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ןןןןה
1
ARTES
LIBRARY
1817
VERITAS
SCIENTIA
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
1
TUEBOR
KI:QUÆRIS-PENINSULAM-AMCE B
CIRCUMSPICE
t
ZMW. Onslow
FRANGAS
NON
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FLECTAS
William Phelps.
WIP
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!
A COMPLEAT
COLLECTION
OF THE
SERMONS,
TRACT S
AND
PIECES of all KINDS,
That were Written by
The RIGHT REVEREND
Dr. WILLIAM FLEETWOOD,
Late Lord Biſhop of ELY.
LONDON:
Printed for D. MIDWINTER, A. BETTESWORTH & C. HITCH, J. & J. PEMBERTON,
R. WARE, T. WARD, C. RIVINGTON, F. CLAY, J. BATLEY and J. WooD,
A. WARD, J. and P. KNAPTON, T. LONGMAN, R, HETT, E. WICKSTEED, and
M. DOWNING. MDCCXXXVII.
BX
5037
.F59-
1937
LIST
}
O F
SUBSCRIBER S.
1
Τ'
the
HE Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of St. Afaph.
Anthony Allen, Efq; Mafter in Chancery.
The Reverend Mr. Archer.
His Grace the Duke of Buccleugh.
The Reverend Mr. Babington.
The Reverend Francis Barnard, D. D.
The Reverend Mr. Barton, Rector of St. Andrew's, Holborn.
The Reverend Mr. Bateman.
The Reverend Dr. Philip Bearcroft.
Dr. Bettefworth, Dean of the Arches.
Mr. William Bonner, Bookfeller in Cambridge.
The Reverend Mr. Thomas Bradbury.
The Reverend Mr. Bull, Rector of Brafted in Kent.
Mr. Burroughs.
The Right Honourable the Earl of Clarendon.
The Reverend Mr. Chandler, Chancellor of Durham.
Mr. John Child.
Samuel Claget, Efq;
The Reverend Dr. Clarke, Prebendary of Weſtminſter.
Mr. Richard Clements, Bookfeller in Oxford.
Mrs. Eleanor Conway.
1
The Reverend Mr. John Cookfey, Fellow of Merton College, Oxon.
The Honourable Frederick Cornwallis, M. A. of Chrift's College, Cambridge.
The Reverend Mr. John Croís, Rector of Long-Stowe, Cambridgeshire.
The Reverend Henry Crownfield, B. D. Vice-Prefident of Queen's College, Cam-
bridge.
The Reverend Thomas Crownfield, M. A. of Doddington, Kent.
Mr. Cornelius Crownfield, Printer to the University of Cambridge.
The Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Derehurſt.
The Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of St. David's.
The Reverend Dr. Denne, Archdeacon of Rochefter."
The Reverend Mr. Eames Davis.
The
LIST of SUBSCRIBER S.
The Right Reverend the Lord Biſhop of Ely.
John Eaton, Efq;
The Reverend Mr. David Evans.
Dennis Farrer, Efq;
Mr. William Fletcher.
Thomas Floyer, of Great Pelham, Hertfordshire, Efq;
Dr. Humphry Foulkes.
The Reverend Mr. Peter Goddard, M. A. Fellow of Clare-Hall.
The Honourable Francis Godolphin, Efq;
The Lady Goodricke.
Mr. George Grafton, Bookfeller.
Mr. John Grant, Junior, of Breadſtreet-Hill.
The Reverend Mr. Green.
George Gregory, Efq;
The Right Honourable the Earl of Halifax.
The Reverend Dr. Herring, Dean of Rochefter.
Edward Haiftwell, Efq;
Jeffery Hetherington, of the Middle Temple, Efq;
John Hetherington, Eſq;
Mr. John Hildyard, Bookfeller, at York.
Mr. Hopkins, Bookfeller, at Cambridge.
The Reverend Mr. Francis Horton of Guilfborough in Northamptonſhire.
Richard Howard, of Hackney, Efq;
The Reverend David Hughes, M. A. Fellow of Queen's College, Cambridge.
Thomas Jenner, of the Inner-Temple, Efq;
Mrs. Jane Griffith Kilken.
The Reverend Dr. George Lavington, Refidentiary of St. Paul's.
Mr. James Lever, of Hackney.
Thomas Lewis, Efq;
The Reverend Mr. Lewis, of Margate, Kent.
The Reverend Dr. Lifter, Archdeacon of Canterbury.
The Reverend Mr. Lloyd.
Mrs. Lloyd.
The Reverend Mr. William Lowth, Vicar of St. Margaret's, Rocheſter.
The Reverend Dr. Lynch, Dean of Canterbury.
The Reverend Dr. Matthias Mawſon, Mafter of Bennet College in Cambridge.
Dr. Richard Mead.
The Reverend Mr. Morfe, Prebendary of Litchfield.
Mr. Richard Mancklin, Bookfeller, at York.
Mr. Samuel Mountfort, Bookfeller, at Worceſter.
His Grace the Duke of Newcaſtle, one of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State.
The Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Norwich,
The
LIST of SUBSCRIBERS.
The Reverend Mr. Nevile, Fellow of Chrift College, Cambridge.
Mr. Henry Newcomb of Hackney.
The Reverend Mr. Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham, Kent.
Mr. John Payne.
Mr. John Piggot.
Mrs. Frances Pitts.
The Reverend Mr. Ken. Prefcot, Fellow of Catherine-Hall, Cambridge,
The Reverend Mr. Francis Pyle, Vicar of Hornchurch in Effex.
The Library of Queen's College in Cambridge.
The Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Rochefter.
Paul Rifley, of Chetwood in Bucks, Efq;
Mr. John Richardſon.
The Reverend Dr., Salter, Archdeacon of Norfolk,
The Reverend Mr. St. Cleir.
Samuel Saunders, Efq;
John Sawbridge, of Olautigh in Kent, Efq;
Mr. Francis Say.
The Reverend Mr. John Swinton, M. A.
The Reverend Mr. Charles Thomas.
The Reverend Mr. William Henry Tomlinfon.
Mr. Townſhend, of Cheapfide, London.
The Reverend Mr. Trant, Fellow of Chrift's College, Cambridge.
Mark Thurſton, Efq; Accomptant-General, and Mafter in Chancery.
Mr. William Thurlbourn, Bookfeller in Cambridge.
The Right Honourable the Earl of Warrington.
Sir Nicholas Williams, Bart. of Edwinsford, Carmarthenshire.
The Reverend Mr. Wanly, Fellow of Chrift's College, Cambridge.
The Reverend Jofeph Ward, of Over-Peover, A. M.
The Reverend Dr. Watkinſon, Lecturer of St. Bennet's, Paul's Wharf.
The Reverend Mr. Watkins, Minor Canon of the Cathedral Church of Ely.
Mr. John Watſon, of Whitchurch in Shropſhire.
The Reverend Dr. John Wilcox, Mafter of Clare-Hall, Cambridge,
The Reverend Mr. Hugh Wyat, Prebendary of St. Paul's.
Mr. Evan Wynne.
Mr. Thomas Wall, Bookfeller in Chicheſter,
1
·
PREFACE.
M
ANY Gentlemen having expreffed a Defire to have all Bishop
FLEETWOOD'S Writings collected together in one Volume, fe-
veral of which would otherwife be in Danger of being loft in a
few Years, most of them being very ſhort Difcourfes, and many without
his Name to them; the Bookfellers intereſted in the feveral Copies refolved
to gratify the Curious in fo reaſonable a Defire, being perfuaded, that in
doing fo, they at the fame Time gratify the Publick, and do a Service to
their Country; the Writings of this worthy Prelate being, many of them,
upon Subjects in which the publick Welfare is greatly concerned, and all of
them in general extremely uſeful in the Conduct of private Life, and for
the Good of Society; all written in a most beautiful Style, and most engaging
Manner, and in a Way almoft peculiar to their Author, who was fo excel-
lent a Perfon, and ſo eminent in all good Qualities, that his Name alone
must make thoſe who are as yet unacquainted with his Writings, conceive a
high Opinion of them; there being no one who has more ſteadily and uni-
formly fhewn himself through the whole Courſe of his Life, and in every
Station of it, as well as in his Writings, in the true Intereſt of his
Country, and as the only Way to fecure it, for the Proteftant Succeffon,
and the House of HANOVER; a hearty Friend himſelf to the whole Con-
ftitution in Church and State; and thofe who are fo, he always thought
the trueft Friends to the preſent happy Settlement.
To preferve the Writings of fo fine a Pen, and of a Perſon of ſo excel-
lent a Character, is the Defign of this Collection; which coming to the
Knowledge of a Gentleman who had the Honour to be many Years intimate-
ly acquainted with the Biſhop, and retains the greateſt Veneration for his
Memory, he thought it would not be unacceptable to his Readers to have
Some ſhort Account of his Life prefixed to his Works, and accordingly fent
this following.
T
on
HE Excellent Prelate, whofe Writings are now firft collected to-
gether into One Volume, was born in the Tower of London o
New Year's Day 1656, defcended from an ancient Family in Lanca-
fhire, where he had an Eſtate, now in the Poffeffion of his Son: He
was educated at Eton School, and from thence elected into King's Col-
lege, Cambridge, 1675. About the Time of the Revolution, He en-
tred into Holy Orders, and commenced a celebrated Preacher at his
firft
I
ij
PREFACE.
firſt ſetting out: Having preached the Anniverſary Sermon on the Foun-
der's Day before the Univerſity in his own College, Lady-day 1689,
it fell to his Turn to preach before them on the Sunday following at St.
Mary's, when the Vice-chancellor and Heads of Colleges did him the
Honour to defire him to print both Sermons: but he declining one Part
of that Honour, printed only the firft of them. He was foon after
made Chaplain to King William and Queen Mary; and by the Intereſt
of his worthy Friend Dr. Godolphin, late Provoft of Eton, and Dean of
St. Paul's (at that Time Vice-Provoſt of one, and Refidentiary of the
other) he was made Fellow of that College, and Rector of St. Auſtin's,
London, which is in the Gift of the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's.
His own great Merit brought him ſoon after into the Lecture of St. Dun-
ftan's. Theſe were all the Preferments he had during King William's
Reign, having received no Recompence for his long Service and Atten-
dance as Chaplain, till within a Week of that Prince's Death, when he
was nominated by the King to a Canonry of Windſor, at the Recom-
mendation of the late Lord Godolphin. The Grant having not paffed
the Seals before the King's Death, the Houſe of Commons addreffed
the Queen to give that Canonry to their Chaplain; but that Affair ha-
ving been opened to the Queen by the Lord Godolphin, fhe was pleaſed
to fay, If the King had given it to Mr. Fleetwood, he fhould have it.
It often puzzled his Friends to find a Reaſon why he was ſo long neg-
lected by the Biſhops and thoſe great Men, who were entruſted with the
Difpofal of the Ecclefiaftical Preferments in that King's Reign. Per-
haps from his retired Manner of Life, and his appearing ſeldom or ne-
ver in Places of publick Refort, they had conceived fome Doubt of his
Principles in relation to the Government, as it afterwards appeared fome
in the City had done for no better Reaſons; of which he takes notice
in his famous Preface: But let the Cauſe be what it will, it is moft cer-
tain he never entertained any Notions againſt the Intereſt or Liberty of
his Country. He was hearty and zealous for the Conſtitution, in which
the Revolution and the fubfequent Settlements of the Succeffion to the
Crown left the State, (as his firft Preface to the Sermon on the Duke of
Gloucefter's Death, and his two Sermons on the 30th of January, fhew:)
And as for the eſtabliſhed Church, his three ſeveral Charges to his Cler-
gy do fufficiently atteft his Attachment to that. He was for the Pro-
teſtant Succeffion's taking place in its due Time, (witneſs his Defence of
Lay-Baptiſm, and afterwards his famous Preface.) He was for ſupport-
ing the Houſe of Hanover on the Throne, when they were come to it,
(as his Sermon at Ely-Houfe on the Thankſgiving' for the Suppreffion of
the Rebellion, teftifies.) He stood firm to the Exclufion our Laws had
2
made
PREFACE.
iij
made of Papiſts from the Throne, and was always quick to obſerve and
to expoſe the Attempts, whether covertly or openly made to conciliate
the Nation to that Line, (as befides thoſe I have mentioned, his Preface
to the Life of St. Wenefrede, and other Pieces, written at proper Sea-
fons, fhew.) In ſhort, he never had but one and the fame Judgment
of Matters with Relation to the Government, as will very fully appear
by a Paffage taken out of one of his Sermons, preached before the Lord
Mayor fo early as 1692. The Paffage runs thus: "Here likewife are
"the Laws and Government ſo famous over all the World for Liberty
" without Licentiouſneſs, for Monarchy without Tyranny, and for
66
Subjection without Slavery: Here are the Fortunes and Eſtates the
"beſt ſecured that can be, not ſubject to the Affeffment or Taxation of
"an arbitrary lawleſs Prince alone, whoſe Vanity or Folly, bad Deſigns
or Wantonnefs, might drain the labouring induſtrious Subject; nor
yet ſo much the private Maſter's own, as that he ſhould deny the Uſe
"of what the Publick finds is neceffary to diſcharge its Duty. Here,
laftly, are the Cities of our God, the beſt Religion in the World,
"founded and built upon the Laws of God, and eſtabliſhed by thoſe of
"the Land.
""
(C
""
If this be Difaffection, may it increaſe under the Shelter of his
Name, and fhed its kindly Influence over all the Nation! But two of
thoſe Biſhops, if they once thought not fo well of him as he deſerved,
lived long enough to ſee their Miſtake; they acknowledged his great
Merit, and gave him frequent Teſtimonies of a fincere and valuable
Friendſhip to the End of their Lives: Dr. Tenifon in particular, late
Archbiſhop of Canterbury, whofe uniform Life and ſteddy Principles
have endeared his Memory to every good Proteftant, took much
Pains to fix him in the See of Ely, upon the Death of the late Queen,
1714.
About the Year 1705, he took a Reſolution to retire from the Noiſe
and Hurry of the City, much to the Grief and Concern of his Friends
and Admirers there: His Parishioners of St. Auftin's were fo fenfibly
affected at the Thought of lofing him, that they made very moving Ap-
plications to him, to continue longer among them: They offered to
keep a Curate for him at their own Expence, and to come into any Mea-
fures that would make him eaſy; but nothing could divert him from a
Reſolution that had been long and deeply grounded in his Mind: He
gave up his Preferments in the City, and withdrew to Wexham, a ſmall
Rectory of about 60 l. a Year in Buckinghamshire, where he enjoyed
the Eafe and Sweet of that Privacy he had fo much longed for, in a neat
commodious Houſe and Gardens; and that which made his Retirement
I 2
more
iv
PREFACE.
more agreeable to him, was its Nearneſs to his beloved Eton. But this
humble Man did not long enjoy his pleafing Retreat; the good Provi-
dence of God would not fuffer fo much Merit to lye buried in fuch Ob-
ſcurity; but called him out again into the World, into a higher Station,
the Biſhoprick of St. Asaph, to which he was nominated by the Queen
without any Knowledge or Solicitation of his own. He was but juſt gone
out from waiting as Chaplain, when Biſhop Beveridge died; upon
which, one of the Ladies of the Bedchamber asking the Queen, whom
ſhe intended to make Biſhop of St. Asaph, Her Majefty replied, "One
“whom you will be pleaſed with, whom you lately heard preach, I
" intend it for Dr. FLEETWOOD; and immediately ordered him to
be ſent for to Court. It was this Circumſtance, his having been called
to that Biſhoprick by the Queen's own Choice, that greatly contributed,
as himſelf ſaid to fome of his Friends, to conquer the Averfion he had
expreffed againſt returning again into the World: He thought he
faw the Hand of God in it, and fo fubmitted, and was confecrated
June 6. 1708.
وو
Here he had a very difficult Part to act, coming into this Dioceſe but
juſt before that Spirit of Rage and Madneſs broke out in 1710, which
continued to the End of the Queen's Reign, when Party-Rage ran high-
er, and the Spirit of Jacobitifm was more infolent and barefaced, than
in any former Time, fince the Revolution; and more in that Part of
the Kingdom than in moſt others; yet his great and clear Reputation,
his uncommon Abilities and unblemiſhed Life, which ſet off the Epif-
copal Character with much Luftre; his obliging and eafy Deportment,
free from the leaft Tincture of Pride, or fhew of Superiority, did not on-
ly place him above all indecent Treatment, which was a great Point gain-
ed in thoſe unequal Times, but procured much Reverence and Af-
fection to his Perſon from a Clergy, that almoſt to a Man differed from
him in Principle.
When that unhappy Change was made in the Queen's Meaſures, that
blaſted all the Glories and the Triumphs of the eight preceding Years, our
Biſhop, who was a ſteddy Friend to the Old Miniftry, becauſe he faw
they had ſerved their Country well and faithfully, could not be drawn
to give any Countenance to the Meaſures of the New One, though En-
deavours had been uſed, and Intimations given by the Queen herſelf,
who had a great Value for him, how pleafing his frequent Coming to
Court would be to Her. But his Sentiments will beft appear from his
own Words, in a Letter to a Friend, to whom he uſed to ſpeak and
write his Mind freely. "When my Duty to the Queen, and the Good
"of my Country will permit it, my Gratitude will never let me vote
againſt
<<
PREFACE.
V
ત
(c
CC
againſt my Friends; when I have faved my Conſcience, I give my-
"felf up to what I call my Honour; and therefore under all the Dif
"couragements I can be, I fhall always be on the Side of the late Mi-
niſtry, becauſe I know they ſerved the Queen and Nation ſo well,
"that I am morally affured they never will be ferved better; and when-
ever they are, I ſhall certainly be on their Side who do that Service:
"I think I may be allowed to act as clear and difintereſted a Part as
any Man of our Order; for fure, if I could ſhift my Side, I might
"be well accepted, confidering what Relation I have had to one,
(the Earl of Rochester) who governs all, and who is very civil to me
upon all Occafions; but the Meaſures we are in are by no Means
pleafing to me, as what will never do the Nation's Buſineſs; and I
"foreſee that all our Millions and our Blood ſpent for theſe twenty
"Years paſt, will end in a deſpicable Peace, which yet we muſt pitiful-
ly fue for too". When he was asked about two Years after this, his
Opinion of the Situation of our publick Affairs, his Anſwer was,
(C
(c
'
66
c
""
cr
« have been, and am ftill in fo ill Humour with relation to them, that
"I hardly can endure to think of them. We were in the greateſt Ho-
"nour abroad of any Nation in the Earth, we are now the Scorn of
"all People: Our Friends hate us, and our Enemies laugh at us. We
"ſhall neither have a good Peace nor a good War; France will not give
us the firſt, and we ourſelves have cut off the Means of the laſt. The
Difgrace of the Duke of Marlborough was worth a Million at leaſt, and
yet
I do not hear we got a Farthing by it; which I impute not to our
Honeſty and Virtue, but to our Folly, Malice, Infatuation, and the
great Haſte we are in to be undone. The Parliament has paffed fuch
८८ Cenfure
a
the Duke, that I dare aver no equal Number of Men
upon
« in all the World, of what Nation or Religion foever, would have
"done. But the laying him aſide is ſo ſtrange a Thing, that People
are put to all their Shifts to account for it; and to make it
go down
with the World, muft invent, exaggerate, and fay and do any Thing,
"to make him appear worthy of fuch Uſage; but I expect it will turn
to his Enemies Miſchief, as it certainly does to his Honour, that
"after ſo keen and malicious an Inquifition into his Conduct, their
great Maſter ſhould be able to accuſe him of nothing, but of doing
"what all Generals have done before him, and what King William
always did."
"C
ડૂડ
In May 1712, he publiſhed four Sermons with that famous Preface
before them, which was ordered to be burnt by a Vote of the Majority
of the Houſe of Commons: A Vote, that it is hardly poffible to believe
any other Set of Men but thoſe who had thrown off all Regard to the
2
Honour
vj
PREFACE
Honour of their Country, could have been brought into; but not at all
to be wondred at by any one, who knows it was paffed by thoſe very
Men who gave a Sanction to thoſe deſtructive Meaſures that produced
the diſhonourable Peace of Utrecht; a Name that, as often as it is men-
tioned, cannot fail to raiſe a due Degree of Indignation in every honeſt
Breaſt againſt thofe Hands and Heads that treated away the Liberties
of Europe. But take his Senſe of theſe Matters in his own Words, in
a Letter of his to Biſhop Burnet, a Copy of which his Son Thomas Bur-
net, Efq; lately obliged me with.
I
MY LORD,
June the 17th, 1712.
Received the Favour of your Lordship's Letter, and took it, as I know
it was intended, very kindly. The Manner of my receiving the In-
dignity put upon my Preface, was neither like a Chriftian nor Philofo-
pher, but like a very worldly Man. I knew the whole Procefs, and knew
it to be a Piece of Revenge taken by a wicked Party, that found them-
felves forely ftung; and it affected me accordingly, i. e. very little. I am
not one that love to be the Talk of the Town, and in this Part I confefs I
was uneafy, although I think the Talk was very much in my Favour. The
Complaint was made by Hungerford, and feconded by Manley, (People
that ſhould indeed have been ordered to have burnt it) and thirded by
what we call the Court, and carried by Numbers, without a wife Word
faid against it. Sir Peter King, Sir Jofeph Jekyl, Mr. Lechmere, and
others of the Robe, were very ftrenuous Advocates in its Behalf, and fo
were other Gentlemen, but to no Purpofe, for the Court divided 119,
and my Friends but 54. If their Defign was to intimidate me, they have
loft it utterly; or, if to fupprefs the Book, it happens much otherwife, for
every Body's Curiofity is awakened by this Ufage, and the Bookfeller finds
his Account in it, above any one else. The Spectator has conveyed above
14,000 of them into other People's Hands, that would otherwife have ne-
ver feen or heard of it. In a word, My Lord, when I confider that thefe
Gentlemen have used me no worse than I think they have uſed their own
Country, the Emperor, the States, the Houſe of Hanover, and all our
Allies abroad, as well as all the Braveft, Wifeft, and Honefteft Men we
have at Home, I am more inclined to become vain, than any Ways depref-
fed at what has befallen me, and intend to ſet up for a Man of Merit
upon this very Stock. But Pleafantry apart, my Heart is wounded with-
in me, when I confider feriously whereabouts we are, and whither we are
tending. The Court Party do now own publickly, that except the Allies
accept of the Conditions that are offered them, King Philip is not to make
any Renunciation; and certainly the Allies cannot accept of thofe Condi-
2
tions,
PREFACE.
vij
tions, unleſs they are diſtreſſed to the laft Degree. We muſt and ſhall have
a Separate Peace in Spite of all that can be faid, and that muſt be without a
Renunciation on the Part of France, and without a Guaranty from the
Allies; and what a Peace is that like to be? It is now faid that England
is to constrain the King of France to content the States with a Barrier to
their liking, and that the reft will come in, or ftand out without any Dan-
ger; but I am afraid England has loft all her conftraining Power, and
that France thinks he has us in her Hands, and may use us as fhe pleafes,
which I dare fay, will be as fcurvily as we deferve. What a Change has
two Years made? Your Lordship may now imagine you are growing young
again, for we are fallen, methinks, into the very Dregs of Charles the
IId's Politicks; faving that then they were more reasonable, becauſe our
Enemy was then in fo full Power and Luftre, as might both terrify and
dazzle a poor luxurious Prince, that would not be disturbed, nor ſeem to
care much what became of England after he was gone. The prefent Times
may put you in Mind of thofe, with this bad Difference ftill, that now the
ruinous Effects of thofe Advices feem to be taking Place after an Interval
of five or fix and twenty Years; and after fuch an Interruption, as one
would have thought ſhould have quite baffled and deſtroyed them. I find,
my Lord, upon reading my Letter, that I have entred upon deep Mat-
ters, which, confidering the Times, and the Spaw Waters I have taken,
I ought not to have done. You will, I hope, excuse me, for methought I
was talking with you, who, I believe favour me. I have, I thank God,
an entire Truſt in his Goodneſs, and know he has hitherto preſerved us be-
yond all reaſonable Hopes, without and against all our Defervings; but
will be ftill go on to fave us against our Will, and in the Midſt of our
Endeavours to deftroy ourselves? I hope he will, for elfe I think we
are a loft People. I pray God to preſerve your Lordſhip and all your
Family. I am,
My Lord,
Your Lordship's moſt humble Servant,
W. ASAPH.
The Revenge which the Biſhop points at in his Letter, was dealt out
to him in Remembrance of the Sermon which he had publiſhed a few
Months before, against thoſe that delight in War; in which he had
fet the baſe and ungenerous Treatment of the Braveft General, and
the trueft Patriots this Nation was ever bleffed with, in a Light
that caft much Infamy and Reproach upon their inſolent Perſecu-
tors.
I b
When
viij
PREFACE.
When he ſaw that happy Change take Place, happy to this Church
and Nation, that blaſted at once thoſe dark Schemes that had been laid
for our Deſtruction, by bringing Home to us the Proteftant Succeffion,
he had a true and warm Senſe of that great Bleffing, and adored the
good Providence of God that had at laſt placed our Civil and Religious
Liberties upon
ſo ſtrong and fure a Foundation; "and though neither
you, nor I, (was his faying to a Friend) are to look for any Amend-
"ment of our Fortunes, yet we have now the Satisfaction, that
fhall enjoy our little Properties in Quiet and Security, and tranf
"mit them fafe to our Children. Such was his eaſy and contented
Mind, never afpiring after, or folicitous for a Change; yet he was foon
confidered, as he well deferved, being tranſlated to the Biſhoprick of
Ely, in which Station he lived almoft nine Years, the fame fteddy
Man, a conftant Friend and Defender of the eſtabliſhed Laws of
his Country.
<c
we
""
But it is high Time to anſwer the Expectation of the Reader, and
ſhew more particularly what Sort of a Man our Biſhop was, without
detracting from his real Worth, or adding to it. This, I am ſenſible,
requires a much abler Pen than mine; it is not eafy to do Juftice to
fo much Merit, and ſet ſo amiable a Character in the Light it deferves
to be ſeen in. There was fomething fo fine in his Compoſition, ſo much
above the common Make, ſo much Spirit and Life in the whole Man-
ner of him; fomething ſo pleaſing and captivating in every Thing he
faid or did, that it calls for the moſt maſterly Hand to draw fuch a Pi-
&ture as ſhall not fall very much ſhort of the Original.
He lived an uſeful, ftudious, exemplary Life, fo conftantly employ-
ed in the good Way of his Profeffion, that no Man had fewer idle Hours
to anſwer for. He had a juft Senfe of the Duty of his Office, and li-
ved up to the Dignity of it. He was conftant in Preaching, which
Duty he diſcharged for many Years three Times a Week: It
may be
truly ſaid, he was the moft celebrated Preacher of his Time: I need not
fay how uſefully he employed his Talent, or with how much Elo-
quence; his Sermons fully ſpeak it; which he fet off with fuch a Sweet-
nefs of Voice, and fuch a graceful Delivery, that he charmed his Hear-
ers into the warmeſt Attention, and left a laſting Impreffion on their
Minds; and that which made his Sermons more uſeful, was the fine
Vein of Cafuiſtry that ran through moſt of them; wherein he diſplayed
a peculiar Talent in making Things plain and eaſy, which feemed to
many difficult, and gave Diſturbance to weak and honeſt Minds: He
informed the Judgment, and then fet the Mind at Reft. To which
may be added, what many of his Auditors have often ſaid, that they
feldom
2
1
PREFACE.
ix
feldom heard him preach, but they learnt fomething from him that
they had never obſerved or heard before. He was a diligent Vifiter of
the Sick, and a skilful Healer of the Wounds of Confcience; for the
Cure of which fad Malady, he was often applied to by many who were
not properly under his Care; to whom he was a willing and a wife In-
ftructor. And theſe good Offices he diſcharged in ſo affectionate and
tender a Manner, that befides the inward Satisfaction he had of doing
much Good, many of thoſe who had applied to him, expreffed the
grateful Senſe they had of this his Labour of Love, which he beſtowed
upon them, by kind Legacies bequeathed to him; ſome of which came
to his Hands after he was a Biſhop.
In this Station, he did not ceafe to be a Preacher; he was a con-
ftant one at St. Asaph, where the Choir was well fuited to his Voice;
not fo at Ely, where the Church was much too large for it; but in his
own Chapel at Ely-houfe, fo frequent in the Diſcharge of that good
Part of his Office, though in the cold Seafon of the Year, that he
has fometimes preached four and twenty Sermons in the Space of fix
Months. He was a great Lover of Antiquities, eſpecially of thoſe of
his own Country; but that did not caſt a Ruſt upon his Parts, or ſpoil
his Stile; an Effect it often has upon thoſe, whofe Genius leads them
early into that Kind of Study. He was a uſeful Antiquarian, and at
the fame Time a fine Preacher. The filling of the Churches in the
Dioceſe of St. Asaph, where he was almoſt the General Patron, with
virtuous and worthy Men, was what lay near his Heart: He often ex-
preffed the great Satisfaction he had in beſtowing Preferments on worthy
Clergymen, and was extremely pleaſed when upon Experience and Ob-
ſervation he found that the Care of their People was Matter of Confci-
ence to them; "So may it always be, he uſed to fay, and with
"Increaſe, for without that there was no Living, but he was fure, no
Dying with Comfort. He paid little or no Regard to the impor-
tunate Solicitations of the great Men of that Dioceſe, if the Perſon re-
commended was not found upon due Enquiry, to be of an unblemiſhed
Life;
and though he could not have the Satisfaction he wiſhed, of fill-
ing his Churches with Men he thoroughly approved in other Reſpects,
yet
he took much Pains to fill them with Men of Virtue; and if ever
he was moved beyond his ufual Temper, it was when he found he had
been deceived by Teſtimonials that had little or no Truth in them.
had a generous Heart; his Hands were always open to thoſe in Want,
eſpecially to the poorer Clergy, to whom he often gave Money, or Books,
befides the Remiffion of their Fees. He was a liberal Encourager of
every charitable Deſign that came in his Way, never fhewing any De-
cr
>>
He
fire
X
PREFACE
fire to be rich, except in good Works; and he was much pleaſed when
he heard that any rich Man had left fomething to good Ufes; faying
fometimes upon that Occafion, "It were almoſt reaſonable there fhould
"be a moderate Purgatory for fuch as live and die fo wealthy, without
"doing any good to any Body but their Children, when there was fo
"much Want and Mifery in the World." He was much concerned
to ſee ſo much Paffion and Uncharitableneſs raiſed by Difference in Opi-
nion in Matters of Religion; and thought that mere Miſtakes, and
fuch Differences as did not influence Practice, were to be born with.
He looked upon the Schifm Act as a cruel Impoſition upon the natural
Rights of Mankind, and as Perfecution in the worſt Shape it could al-
moſt appear in;" for if to deprive Parents of the Right of educating
"their Children in the Way they thought beft, was not Perfecution,
«he ſaid, he knew not whas was; and that the Way to judge of fuch
"Matters was, to bring the Caſe home to ourſelves, and to ſuppoſe that
"others believe themſelves to be as much in the Right as we do. He
was modeſt and humble almoſt to a Fault, Qualities rarely to be found
in a Breaſt ſo replete with Knowledge as his was; and as he fled from
his juſt Praiſes, and was always uneafy under them, fo was he back-
ward to cenfure others. His Temper was fweet and even, calm and
meek, fo that hardly any thing could diſcompoſe him; no Paffion, no
Refentment, no partial Mixtures could find a Place in his Breaft. To
this happy Temper of Mind was joined a good Degree of cool and fe-
date Courage, which he did not fail to fhew whenever a proper Occaſi-
on called for it. And to crown all his other good Qualities, fo much
Innocence of Life, Integrity of Heart, and Sanctity of Manners, hard-
ly ever met in any one Man in a fuller Meaſure than they did in him.
In a word, this good Biſhop excelled in every Virtue that conſtitutes a
wiſe Man, and in every Grace that diſtinguiſhes a Chriſtian.
""
After a Courſe of many Years fo virtuouſly and ſo uſefully employed,
he died in 1723, and was buried in the Cathedral Church of Ely,
where a neat Monument has been erected to his Memory, with the
following Infcription.
H. S. E.
Gulielmus Fleetwood
Hujus Ecclefia, olim Afaphenfis, Epifcopus,
Pridie Non. Auguft. A. D. MDCCXXIII°,
Sue Etatis LXVIIm
Nondum pervectus obiit, gravi jam fene&tute innumeris
Laborum ftudiis approperata;
I
Quorum
¡
PREFACE.
+
Xj
Quorum fanè recenfioni neque ulla fatis patet Tabula;
Nec Morum fanctimoniam, candorem Ingenii, rerumque
Divinarum et Humanarum fcientiam, Hic commemorare
Opus erat; neque verò ineluctabilem (fuaviffimæ tamen)
Eloquentiæ vim, Religioni Patriæque, Sacramento
Semper fido, militantis; nec Robur illud Pectoris ultrò
Sævientibus formidolofa Potentiæ Minis atque Flammis
Oppofitum, pro Domo nunc Regia, Hoc eft, pro Legibus
Ipfaque Populi falute, et civili et fempiterna;
Ifta enim ad omnem memoriam Ipfe quam plurimis
Confignavit, expreffitque Monumentis fuis;
Qualia non ponimus fuperftites.
Sed hoc teftari Conjux dilectiffima fuam Unicique Filii
Venerationem voluit, et Defideria atq; luctus infanabiles folari.
But I must not conclude this Account of the Bishop's Life, without
ſaying ſomething of his Writings, which are here now firſt brought to-
gether. I have already obſerved what is the Spirit of thoſe Pieces that
relate at all to Politicks and Government, which abundantly prove that
he was a true Englishman, and fincerely well affected to the eſtabliſhed
Church. The other Pieces fhew how willingly he laid hold of all Occa-
fions to engage Men to acquit themſelves worthily of all Sorts of Duties
in private Life, religious and moral.
There is no need of ſpeaking to every particular Tract; the Occafi-
on of each of them, the Reader will preſently diſcover from the Tract
itſelf. It is fufficient here to fay, that they came from the fame mafterly
Pen, and as ſuch carry their own Recommendation along with them.
He that reads over any one of theſe Tracts with due Attention to the
Style and Manner of Writing, will himſelf eaſily diſcover the fame
Hand in every one of them; fome Peculiarities, (as the Biſhop himſelf
faid to a Friend, after the Publication of his Vindication of the 13th
Chapter to the Romans, which he had not fufficiently diſguiſed) ma-
king the Author, tho' he had induſtriouſly concealed his Name, gueſſed
at by moft, and eafily known to many. They who do not know the
Hiſtory of thoſe Times, may wonder perhaps to ſee a Sermon on a Faſt-
day against those that delight in War, publiſhed without his Name,
when he was Biſhop of St. Aſaph; but their Wonder will ceaſe, when
they are told that this Sermon was to have been preached before the
Houfe of Lords, to which Office he had been appointed by that Houſe ;
but that the new Miniftry, who fhortly after did him the Honour to
burn his Immortal Preface, fearing he had drawn his Pen againſt their
Inglorious
I C
xij
PREFACE.
The
Inglorious Peace, deprived him of the Opportunity of Preaching it, by
adjourning the Houſe defignedly beyond that Day. But the Biſhop
would not be altogether diſappointed: He publiſhed what he was not
fuffered to preach, under the Name of a Divine of the Church of England,
but was foon known by every Reader to be the Author of it.
World has it now, as it was firft delivered, with thoſe Paffages infert-
ed, which the Printer, who then knew not the Author, had omitted,
from a juft Dread of feeling fome of that ſevere Treatment, which
thoſe Arbitrary Minifters dealt out in full Meaſure to all, who had the
Courage to expoſe their Conduct.
It
may be proper to take Notice, in relation to his Eſſay upon Mira-
cles, that it has been often affirmed, and paffes with ſome for a certain
Truth, that the Biſhop, in a Letter to the Rev. Mr. Hoadley, (the preſent
Biſhop of Winchester) who had written a fhort Anſwer to that Effay,
had given up his Scheme. But this, the Reader may be affured, is a
Report altogether falfe. Nor is the Biſhop's not replying any juſt
Ground for fuch a Surmife: For it was almoſt a Principle with him ne-
ver to enter into Controverfy, to which he had an extreme Averfion;
the Acrimony with which Diſputes were too often carried on, being not
at all agreable to the Calmneſs and Meeknefs of his Temper, for which
Reafon he would not be drawn to defend what he had written. "I write
my own Senſe as well as I can", was his faying upon fuch Occa-
fions, "If it be right, it will ſupport itſelf; if it be not, it is fit it ſhould
fink." I could not omit this Opportunity of doing this Piece of Juſtice.
to the Biſhop's Memory.
CC
The
The CONTENTS of this Collection of
Biſhop FLEETWOOD'S Writings.
N. B. Thofe Pieces which were published without his Name, are di-
finetly fet down fo in this Lift.
1689.
A
Sermon preached before the Univerſity of Cambridge, in King's College
Chapel, on the 25th of March 1689, being the Anniverſary for Com-
memoration of King Henry VI, the Founder.
Page 1
1691. A Sermon preached before the Honourable Houſe of Commons, Nov. 5.
1691.
12
1691. A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church, before the Governors of that Hofpital,
on St. Stephen's Day, 1691.
23
1692. A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen at St. Mary le Bow,
April 11. 1692.
38
49
59
1692. A Sermon preached at Guildhall Chapel, Dec. 11. 1692.
169. A Sermon preached before the Queen at Whitehall, Feb. 12. 1692-3.
1694. A Sermon againſt Clipping. Preached before the Lord Mayor and Alder-
men, at Guildhall Chapel, Dec. 16. 1694.
69
1696. A Sermon of the Education of Children. Preached before the Lord Mayor
and Aldermen at Guildhall Chapel, Nov. 1. 1696.
79
1693. A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, before the Lord Mayor and Alder-
men, Jan. 30. 1698-99.
93
104
1700.
A Sermon preached before the King at Whitehall, Nov. 5. 1700.
1701. A Sermon preached before the Gentlemen educated at Eton College, Dec. 6.
1701.
1701. An Eſſay upon Miracles.
1704.
114
125
The Reaſonable Communicant; or, an Explanation of the Doctrine of the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, in all its Parts, from the Communion
Service. Without his Name.
173
1704. A Sermon preached on Sept. 7. 1704. being the Day for the Thankſgiving.
1705.
197
The Relative Duties of Parents and Children, Huſbands and Wives, Maſters
and Servants; confidered in Sixteen practical Difcourfes; with three Ser-
mons upon
the Cafe of Self-Murther.
207
1705. A Faft Sermon, preached before the Queen at St. James's, April 4. 1705.
362
37I
1705. A Sermon preached before the Queen at Windſor, June 17. 1705.
1707. Chronicon Pretiofum; or, an Account of English Money, the Price of Corn,
and other Commodities, for the laſt 600 Years. In a Letter to a Student
in the Univerſity of Oxford. Without his Name.
379
1708. A Thankſgiving Sermon preached before the Queen at St. Paul's, August 19.
1708.
435
17.
1709. A Sermon preached before the Queen at St. James's, April 17. 1709.
A Sermon preached before the Lords, Jan. 30. 1709-10.
444
453
1710,
The Contents of this Collection, &c.
1710. The BP of St. Asaph's Charge to the Clergy of that Dioceſe in 1710. Page 463
1710. The 13th Chapter to the Romans vindicated from the abufive Senfes put upon
it. Without his Name.
17.
484
A Sermon preached before the Society for the Propagation of the Goſpel in
Foreign Parts, Feb. 16. 1710-1I.
495
17. A Sermon on the Faft-Day, Jan. 16. 1711-12. againft fuch as delight in
War. Without his Name.
1713.
506
1712. The Judgment of the Church of England in the Cafe of Lay-Baptiſm and of
Diffenters Baptifm. In two Parts. Without his Name.
515
1712. Four Sermons. I. On the Death of Queen Mary, 1694. II. On the Death
of the Duke of Gloucester, 1700. III. On the Death of King William,
1701. IV. On the Queen's Acceffion to the Throne, preached in 1703.
Which Four Sermons were publiſhed together in 1712: With a Preface. 557
1713. The Life and Miracles of St. Wenefrede, together with her Litanies. With
fome Hiftorical Obfervations made thereon. Without his Name.
593
A Funeral Sermon on the Death of Mr. Noble, who was executed at Kingſton,
for the Murther of a Gentleman with whofe Wife he had criminal Conver-
fation. Without his Name.
658
1715. The Counſellor's Plea for the Divorce of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F. Without his
Name.
667
1716. A Thankſgiving Sermon preached at Ely-Houfe Chapel, June 7. 1716. 681
1716. A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Dioceſe of Ely at Cambridge, Aug.
7. 1716.
693
1717. Papifts not excluded from the Throne upon the Account of Religion. Being
a Vindication of the Right Rev. the Lord Biſhop of Bangor (Dr. Hoadley's)
Preſervative, &c. in that Particular. Without his Name.
705
A Sermon preached before the King in the Chapel Royal at St. James's on
March. 2. the first Sunday in Lent, 1717.
1717.
710
1717. A Letter from Mr. J. Burdett (who was executed at Tyburn for the Murder
of Capt. Falkner) to fome Attorneys Clerks of his Acquaintance, written
6 Days before his Execution. Without his Name.
718
1717. A Letter to an Inhabitant of the Pariſh of St. Andrews Holborn, about new
Ceremonies in the Church. Without his Name.
1718. The Juftice of paying Debts. A Sermon preached in the City.
1720. A Defence of Praying before Sermon, as directed by the LVth Canon.
out his Name.
1721. A Sermon upon Swearing. Without his Name.
1722. A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Dioceſe of Ely in Aug. 1722.
2
722
728
With-
737
761
770
A SER
A
SERMON
R M
Preached before the Univerſity of Cambridge, in
King's College Chapel, on the 25th of March,
1689. being the Anniverſary for Commemora-
tion of King Henry VI. the Founder.
2 COR. IX. 12.
For the adminiftration of this fervice not only fupplieth the want of the
faints, but is abundant alfo by many thankſgivings unto God.
A
FTER St. Paul had been exhorting the Corinthians to a liberal and ſpeedy
Contribution to the poor Saints at Jerufalem, from abundance of Topicks
general and particular; fuch as the Excellence of the Nature of the Work
itſelf, the Example of the Macedonians, and the Expectation that Church
had; the Reaſonableneſs of this, that as they had abounded in every thing, fo they
ſhould alſo abound in this Grace; from the Forwardneſs of others, from the Example
of Chrift, who for their Sakes became Poor, that they through his Poverty might be
made Rich, from the Expediency and Profitablenefs of perfecting a good Work they
had already begun, and from their own Forwardneſs which had made it in a manner
fuperfluous for him to write to them, which take up the eighth and ninth Chapters of
this Epiſtle, he enforces it by this at laſt, that this their Charity would cauſe thankf
givings to God, ver. II. and in the Text with an Addition ----for the adminiſtration of,
&c.
ne ** 1 2
By the adminiſtration of this fervice we muſt underſtand, the Diſtribution of Alms,
the Liberality of communicating, the exercifing Acts of Charity; Alms being a Part
of the fpiritual Service under the Goſpel, and call'd in ritual and pontific Terms, an
odour of a fweet smell, a facrifice acceptable, well pleafing to God, Phil. iv. 18. and ſo in
Heb. xiii. 16. To do good and to communicate forget not, for with fuch facrifices God is
well pleafed; and its Commendation here is, that it not only fupplies the want of the
Saints, but it is an Obligation and Incitement to theirs and others Gratitude to God; it
occafions Prayers and Thankſgivings, and the Name of God is thereby glorified. As
therefore the Text will not justly allow, fo I think the Occafion of this affembling will
require no more at my Hands, than the treating of theſe two Heads in the firſt place,
and of applying them to our preſent Purpoſe in the ſecond.
To fupply the Neceffities of fuch as are in want, is a Work of fuch acknowledged
Excellence in its own Nature, carries fuch Sweetneſs and Complacence with it in its
Practice; is ſo agreeable to all Mankind, and of fuch pleafing Odour before God, that
it were a kind of Injury to any here, to fuppofe them fo entirely loft to all the Princi-
ples of good Nature, of improv'd Reaſon, and reveal'd Religion, as to think they
wanted Conviction, or indeed Perfuafion in this Cafe. It is to be just to the Text, that
I infift a little on theſe Heads.
Firſt then, It is a Work of great Excellence in its own Nature, it is perfecting hu-
man Nature, and advancing it as far as it can go; in nching do we more reſemble and
draw
I A
2
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
tune;
draw near the Godhead than in that Largeneſs of Heart, and generous Diſpoſition of
Soul, from whence the Works of Charity proceed: and what is exprefs'd in St. Luke by
Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father alfo is merciful; is in St. Matthew
Be ye
therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect. "Tis honouring our
Maker. "Tis, in a manner, and by his Permiffion, mending the Works of God, and
bettering the Creation: For he, in his all-wife Diſpoſal of Affairs, has ordered Matters
fo, that there ſhould ſeem to be a great many Defects in Nature, a great deal of Partiali-
ty in the Diſtribution of the Things of this World, and Inequality in the Gifts of For-
and hath ſubmitted all the World to the Dominion of what we call Chance and
Accidents. And this not through any Impotence of Power, Defect of Forefight, or
Good-will to Man; but moſt eſpecially for the Exercife of the Wiſdom and the Virtue
of his Creatures. And therefore he that beſt repairs theſe Breaches, fupplies theſe De-
fects, makes up theſe Inequalities, and beft provides againſt theſe evil and unhappy Ac-
cidents; improves the human Nature moſt, and beſt deſerves of it, does the moſt ex-
cellent and beneficial Work, acts the moſt reaſonably and moft conformably to the di-
vine Will, he beft accompliſhes the Works of God and the Defigns of Providence. It
is hard to conceive an Attempt more Noble, or a Work more Excellent than what the
Heathens call'd the conquering Fortune, and giving to Man a new Fate; but we muſt
ſay, than the rescuing human Nature from that Contempt and Miſery into which our
Sins firſt threw it, and under which they keep it ſtill in Bondage; which is done (and
never better done than) by the Exercife of Charity. 'Twas Sin that firft debafed our
Kind, and firſt fubjected it to Pains and Sickneffes, Infirmities and Wants, and all the
Sorrows and Diftreffes under which we fee and feel it labours, and to whatever makes us
the Objects of one another's Pity and Compaffion. And God by his uſual Methods
(full of aſtoniſhing Love and Kindness) hath dealt fo graciouſly both for and with us,
that we may (like himſelf) work good from evil; and by a rare Reverſe of Provi-
dence, hath both enjoined and enabled us, to make theſe fad Effects of Sin, Occafions
of new Righteouſneſs, and of deſtroying Sin itſelf; and in our own, and one ano-
ther's Miſeries, hath given us, as it were, fo many Opportunities of exercifing greater
Graces, of practiſing more Virtues, of raiſing the Soul to a nobler Pitch, and afpiring
to a better Immortality, than otherwiſe, for any thing we know, we could or fhould
have had. He therefore that is practiſing Beneficence, feeding the Hungry, cloathing
the Naked, vifiting the Sick and in Priſon, relieving the Diſtreffed, and doing Good,
is at the ſame time rifing as it were from Adam's Fall, vindicating human Nature, af-
ſerting his Original, exalting and ennobling of his Soul, and in a manner triumphing
already over Sin, and Death, and Hell.
Yet after all, this Work of Love is not more excellent in its Nature, than (to our
Comfort) it is, Secondly, Both fweet and pleaſant in its Practice: And in good truth,
'tis very happy for us that it is fo, confidering 'tis fo frequently, fo earnestly, fo inex-
cufably enjoin'd and made our conſtant Duty. Our Souls are ſo united to our Bodies,
fo cloſely tack'd and faſtned to their Matter, and clogg'd with their Corruption, that
tho' they can make ſhift to diſcern the Reaſonableneſs and Neceffity of performing their
Duty, yet they are difficultly mov'd to Practice, unleſs ſome ſenſible Impreffion of De-
light, accompanying the Duty, be made appear, and they be not only fed with future
Hopes and Expectations. Proportionable therefore to this Neceffity and ftrict Injun-
ction of this Duty, hath God in his Goodneſs made the Pleaſure and Delight that con-
ſtantly attends it. There is that Sweetneſs and Complacency in doing good to thoſe
that want, that even the bare Defires and Wiſhes of it, when it is beyond our Power to
do it, give us a good Degree of Peace and Quiet and Content within; and we can ſa-
tisfy our Scruples with the Sincerity of our Deſigns and Purpoſes: but if we bring thoſe
Purpoſes to good Effect, there is then fuch a Spring of Joy and Contentation riſing in
the
I
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
3
ty
the Soul, the Spirits overflow ſo pleaſingly, and the Heart fwells with fuch fweet Gaie-
and Pride, that it is hard to find a Name for the delightful Paffion, and we can
fooner feel than can expreſs what'tis we mean. And though theſe Ecftafies abate in
time, and languiſh by degrees, yet the Delights of doing good purfue a Man as long as
the Remembrance of it lafts. It is impoffible to call to mind a Man's good Deeds, or
view the Objects of his Charity, without abundance of Content and folid Satisfaction.
I make no doubt, but the devout and humble Soul returns God frequent Thanks for
his exciting and affifting Grace; but I doubt very much, whether 'tis poffible in hu-
man Nature not to reflect Honour and Pleaſure on one's felf withal; they do fo natu-
rally flow, fo unavoidably reſult from the Remembrance of thofe Acts of Charity and
kind Beneficence. And Seneca had never more Reaſon, than when deſcribing this Vir-
tue, he ſaid it was, Actio benevola tribuens gaudium, capiénfque tribuendo.
Thirdly, 'Tis agreeable to all Mankind We are frequently forced, when we would
recommend a Virtue to our Audience, to tell them, 'tis approv'd and practiſed by all
the Wife, and Good, and Sober Perſons of the World; which tho' it is not ſo, yet it may
look like begging of the queſtion, becauſe we are already prepoffefs'd in favour of that
Virtue, and conſequently may be thought to call and judge thoſe Perfons Wife, and
Good, and Sober, barely from the Practice of it. But when a Man can ſafely ſay that
all the World approves a thing, that High and Low, Rich and Poor, Young and Old,
Good and Bad agree to it, and have been always of the Opinion; when they who
cannot practiſe it, ftill wiſh they could; and they who do not, are aſham'd, and make
what Shew they can, as if they did; when no Man's Confidence or Wit hath ever
carried him fo far, as to difpute its Excellence, or praiſe its Oppofite, a Man muſt be
forfaken quite of Senfe, and Reaſon, and good Manners; he muft do ſtrange Violence
to all the Powers of his Soul, whom the Reverence that is due to the fo general Judg-
ment of the World, cannot impreſs upon, or move to the Belief and Practice of this
noble Duty upon all Occafions.
Fourthly, 'Tis acceptable in the Sight of God; it muſt needs be fo, he would not
otherwiſe have charged it on us with fuch Earneftnefs, commanded it fo pofitively, and
call'd upon us for Performance fo inceffantly, and threatned its Neglect fo terribly,
throughout the Scriptures. It muſt needs be acceptable, becauſe we are thereby kind
to him himſelf, in relieving his Friends; for fuch is his Goodneſs, that he hath made
the Cauſe of thoſe that want, his own, and reckons up the Good we do to them, done
to himſelf, and will accordingly reward it. It muſt needs be acceptable, becauſe we
thereby exerciſe an Act of Faith and Confidence in his Truth and Goodnefs, we give
him ſomething fure and in Poffeffion, for the Reverfion of Rewards we know at pre-
fent little of; we give becauſe he bids, and truſt becauſe he ſays that he is faithful. And
the Scriptures place a great deal of the Merit of Abraham's Faith, in obeying when he
was called to leave his Country and his Father's Houſe, and going out altho' he knew not
whither he went; that is, in ready Confidence and in implicit Faith: It muſt needs be
acceptable, becauſe we thereby honour him in obeying his Commands, are juſt in own-
ing him the Lord and true Proprietor of all we have, and paying this Acknowledg-
ment, and by ſhewing ourſelves grateful, and in ſome meaſure worthy of his Mercies.
And to conclude, in a great many other Ways, not needful to recount at preſent.
But if the Works of Charity are thus excellent and fweet, thus acceptable both to
God and Man, when exercis'd on thoſe that only want; they are yet more excellent
and ſweet, and more agreeable, when exercis'd on thoſe that want, and that deſerve
them at the ſame time. It is a great Improvement of the Argument, when the Ad-
miniſtration of this Service fupplieth the Want of the Saints. Not but that to ſtand
in need of Charity, is, ſtrictly ſpeaking, to deſerve it, and is the firſt and moſt imme-
diate Cauſe and Motive both of Giving and Receiving: ſo that he that asks and receives
upon
4
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
upoii prefumption of his Want, and yet wants not, is at the beſt but a Deceiver and a
Cheat; and he that gives without Preſumption of that Want, may be munificent or
liberal, good-natured, vain, or whatever elſe he pleaſes, but not charitable. But when
both Want and Merit meet, the Practice of this Grace is much more fatisfactory to
one's felf, and more agreeable to God and Man. It is a complicated Act of Goodneſs
then, it is approving and rewarding Virtue, encouraging Religion, Induſtry and Ho-
nefty, and whatever elſe may be the Merits of the Receiver, as well as pitying and re-
lieving his Diſtreſfs. Let us try (faid one of old with admirable Reaſon) how to make
our Benefits moſt lafting and moſt ſerviceable, and fuch as may never turn to Evil, and
that will be by carefully and wifely chufing where to place them moſt deſervedly; I will
never give Money to a Man qui adultera numerabit, I won't be fo far acceffary to his lewd
Acts or Purpoſes; I will if I can reclaim him; but if not, I don't intend to encourage
or promote his Wickedness; with a great deal more to good purpoſe, and agreeable to
theVoice of right Reaſon, which adviſeth us to aſſociate Prudence with Beneficence, and
whilſt we are fuccouring human Nature, to diſcountenance Vice and Immorality with-
al, to encourage Virtue and Religion, and ferve the Interefts of the Commonwealth.
And to tie this Duty clofer, it is now become an Obligation of Reveal'd as well as Na-
tural Religion, and we muft, as we have opportunity, do good to all men, but especially to
thofe that are of the houshold of faith. And amongst other Duties fumm'd up in Rom.
xii. one is, diſtributing to the neceſſities of the faints; and St. Paul makes a Journey on
purpoſe to Jerufalem, to minister to the faints, and raiſes the Character of the Macedo-
nians, from their making contributions to, and that of the house of Stephanas, from ad-
dicting themſelves to the miniftry of the faints. And tho' in all thoſe Places, by the
Saints we are to underſtand Believers, Chriftians in general, falfe as well as true; yet we
muſt underſtand withal, that they were honour'd with that Name, from the Sanctity of
their Profeffion, their holy Doctrine, and their prefumed holy Practice, as well as in
Contradiftinction to the unbelieving Jews, and the profane unhallowed Gentiles. So
that as a Man must take all due Care in the Choice of fit and proper Objects of his Cha-
rity, and ſee that they be good and truly Saints if poffible; yet he muſt not abſtain
from doing good, purely upon the account of his Uncertainty, whether his Works will
be beſtowed deſervedly or no. A Man muſt not frequently make the Suſpenſe of his
Mind, a ground for with-holding his Hand: The Pretence will always laſt, and with-
out great Care will prove a Snare to Virtue; it will put him upon little Tricks and difin-
genuous Shifts of pleading caufelefly againſt Mens Merits; it will make him
argue
nicely and ill-naturedly, and fubtilly diſtinguiſh the Poor out of Relief, and himſelf
out of Charity, and engage him by degrees into Hardneſs of Heart, and an inhuman
Temper. Let every one but do his best, and guide himſelf by the moſt probable Ap-
pearances and outward Shews, (of which he only can be Judge) and leave the Iffue
and Event to God- -To God, who has made it a Duty to be charitable, but has not
withal given us a Spirit of Difcernment, to fever Hypocrites from the fincere and ho-
neſt Chriſtians; and therefore cannot reaſonably be thought to require this great Exact-
neſs at our Hands; and is much too juft and kind, not to reward our good Intentions
for the fake of another's undiſcoverable Malignity. It is therefore good and neceffary,
it fhews our Hope and Confidence, our Faith and our Obedience, that we fow our Seed
at peradventure; but it is better that it fall on good Ground; it is good that we intend it
well, but it is better thoſe Intentions find their good Effects. It is a great Commenda-
tion of Charity, that it fupplies the Neceffities of fuch as want; but it is a greater yet,
when it fupplies the Neceffities of Saints, and truly good Chriftians.
But, Secondly, It is abundant alfo by many thanksgivings towards God. Whilft by the
experiment of this adminiſtration (as St. Paul fays in the following Verſe) they glorify
God.First, for their profefs'd Subjection to the Gofpel of Chrift. Secondly, for their
liberal
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689. 5
liberal Diſtribution to them and to all Men. And, Thirdly, by their Prayers for
you.
If there wanted Arguments to advance the Praiſe and Honour of this moft excellent
and uſeful Grace of Charity, one might, without being too minute, and forcing things
unreaſonably, deduce a very certain and well-grounded one from hence, that the Works
of Charity are here made the Marks of our profeffed Subjection to the Gospel of Chrift:
That though there are other Ways of appearing Chriftians, ſuch as being baptized into
the Church's Faith, frequenting its Affemblies, partaking of its Sacraments, and fub-
mitting to its Diſcipline; yet that the cleareſt Tokens, the certaineſt Indications, the
openeſt and moſt avowed Profeffion of our Chriſtianity, is the Practice of good Works,
in purſuance of its holy Doctrine and Commands.
But fince there is no great need of this, I have only to obferve at preſent, First, that
their Charity adminiftred Occafion of glorifying God, and honouring the Chriftian Re-
ligion; Secondly, that they who were, and were to be, relieved, were grateful to God
by returning him Thanks for the Liberality of their Benefactors; and Thirdly, grateful
to their Benefactors by praying to God for them.
Firft, It occafioned the glorifying God and honouring Chriftianity. For as it is in
human Intercourſes, where when one Man by Counfel or Perfuafion of another per-
forms fome brave and generous Action, Part of the Praiſe and Glory, where it is known,
will both deſervedly and unavoidably refult upon the Encourager and Setter on; fo is it
in the Caſe of Charity betwixt God and Men. It muſt needs be, that with confidering
People, the Merit and the Glory of thoſe Benefits muſt fall eſpecially on God, who firſt in-
fpir'd thofe Principles into the Souls of Men, from whence thofe gracious Acts proceeded.
But farther, their Works of Charity were Occafions of honouring Chriſtianity, of
preferring that particular Oeconomy to both the Gentile and the Jewish Difpenfation.
Let Men contend never ſo long, fo warmly and fo wifely about the Preference of the
feveral Theologies, about the Excellency of their Doctrines, and the Properneſs of their
Natures, to exalt the Underſtandings, to refine the Powers and Faculties of the Mind,
and raiſe the Souls of Men to a nobler Pitch, and cloſer Union with the Godhead: Yet
after all, that Doctrine that is fitted beft for the general Welfare of Mankind, and beſt
confults its publick Benefit and Intereſt in this World (not excluding that of another)
will certainly prevail and carry it above the reſt, when once it is truly fcann'd and under-
ftood. So that had the Chriftian Dogmata been as fuitable to the Wiſdom of the
World, and as agreeable to its Way of reaſoning, as its practic Precepts were to the Con-
venience and Benefit of human Life, it had not ſtood in need of Miracles, it had ob-
tain'd that by its own Reaſonableneſs and natural Force, which it did by fupernatural
and divine Affiſtance; it was ſo calculated for the general Good, confulted fo the Weal
and Comfort of the World. Nay, it difpofed the Minds of Men fo fweetly to the
Practice of Humanity, Compaffion, Charity, Beneficence, and, in a word, to all
good Nature, that even where Miracles were wanting, both obftinate and fullen Jews,
and vicious hardned Gentiles, were by them often charmed into Converſion, and always
into Admiration of thoſe generous Doctrines: and even in ſpight of all the indigeſtible
Difficulties of the Chriftian Creed, they could not chufe but love the Chriſtian Pra-
Etice. So that doing good and multiplying Acts of Charity, was the moſt natural and
ready Way of heaping Honours on their Inſtitution, of conciliating the Efteem and
Favour of the World, of winning Profelytes, and gaining upon thoſe that were with-
out, and of fecuring and confirming thoſe that were already in.
Secondly, Thofe that were relieved were grateful to God, by returning him Thanks
for the Liberality of their Benefactors. They glorify God, fays St. Paul, for your libe-
ral diftributions to them and to all men.
However it is that God impreffes on the Minds of Men, and moves them to good
Works of Charity, whether by ſtirring and impregnating thoſe Seeds of natural Pity
I B
he
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A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
45
he hath fown in all our Hearts, or moving us by Hopes or Fears, by Promiſes or
Threats, Rewards or Puniſhments, or by fome ſpecial Act of quickning and exciting
Grace, fome fudden fweet Illapſes from above, or fome illuminating Viſion and divine
Monition; or whether Men are moved themſelves, by the Vanity of their own Hearts,
by the Decency and Comelineſs of thofe Works, by the Ambition of Fame, and the
Reputation of being called Benefactors, by the Delights of Praiſe whilſt living, and
the Defires of Glory when they are dead, or from what other Motive certain or un-
known, thoſe who receive the Benefits are moſt undoubtedly obliged to make their due
Acknowledgments to God by their Returns of Praiſe and Thankſgiving. For let the
Cauſe and Motives, and the Inftruments be what they will, yet the kind Fruits and
good Effects will certainly require, and certainly deſerve it at their Hands. The Goods
are equally the Gifts of God, and the Diſpenſers of them equally his Stewards (with
refpect to the Receivers) as if they had had immediate Charge there to beſtow them.
And God must not lofe his Praiſe, though the Givers do; though they too fhould be
Lofers only in the Day of Recompence. We must not do as fome Men do, who fee
no farther than the Hand that reaches, and only mind the next immediate Caufe that
miniſters to their Relief; like fome (but few) abfurd Idolaters of old, that deified the
viſible and flowing Streams, but never thought upon the hidden Springs from whence
they came; they entertain with Joy and Thankfulnefs to Men, the Pleaſures and the
Benefits that they receive, but never think of looking up to God, the Fountain and
Original of all their Happineſs. But it was not fo with thofe of whom St. Paul treats;
they made the kind Benevolence of their Benefactors an Occafion of praifing God, and
honouring his moſt holy Name, and by feeing and by feeling mens good works, they learnt
(as all of us fhould do) to glorify their Father in heaven.
+
་
Thirdly and lastly, They were grateful to their Benefactors by praying to God for them.
"It cannot fairly be denied, but that there is a ftrong Propenfion in us all, to Self-fuffici-
ency and Independence one upon another. No Man can fay, but he had rather want
no Help, than be obliged to others for it; but fince this cannot be, the next thing we
have to do, is to contrive how to be even and on the fquare again with our Obligers; and
the nearer we come to it, the freer we think ourſelves, and certainly are more contented
and at eafe: But fince the State of Affairs in this Life will not admit of equal Gratitude
in Kind, or indeed in any tolerable Proportion, God in his Goodneſs hath prepared for
the Poor the Comfort and Relief of Prayer, and hath annexed fuch Promiſes to the due
Performance of that Work, as may quickly equal the moſt confiderable Advantages they
can receive from any of their Benefactors; and hath made it their religious Duty, as
well as their natural Defire, to pay their Debts and Obligations, and hath commandéd
them to follicit him, by earneſt Prayers and by inceffant Cries, to fhower down Favours
on their Benefactors Heads; and as there is an unaccountable Venom in their bitter Cries
and Curſes, ſo have their Prayers a marvelloufly penetrating Power and Force. And of
this the World hath been in every Age fo well affured, that there have not wanted Men
of all Conditions and Degrees, Sons of Peace and conquering Heroes, high and migh-
ty Princes, Clergy, Laity, Learned and Ignorant, that have exchanged their Gold' and
Silver, Lands, Jewels, rich Donations, ample Settlements, ftately Structures, Colleges
and Hoſpitals, for the bare Purchaſe of theſe Prayers, and thought it no ill Bargain:
That have looked upon their following Victories and Triumphs, the profperous and
fucceſsful Iffues of their Undertakings, as fo many Returns and Anfwers of theſe Pray-
ers, fo many Bleffings forced from Heaven, by the fweet Violence of their importu-
nate Addreſſes to the Throne of Grace. So that praying for Benefactors hath not been
more eſteemed a Duty on the Receiver's Side, than it hath proved a Motive and Encou-
ragement to giving. And it may be it is better to ftop here, than proceed to tell the Ex-
travagancies to which the exceffive Confidence that Men repofed in theſe kind of Pray-
ers and Services, tranfported many a good, but indifcreetly zealous Soul. And firice
I
there
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
7
there is now no Danger from the Examples, let us rather chufe to cover, than excufe ör
condemn, the Faults (fhall I fay) or rather the Miſtakes of our Forefathers.
And now, having done what Right I could be well allowed to do the Text, I am
come, in the ſecond place, to apply what I can to our preſent Purpoſe.
And Firſt, If St. Paul fo earneſtly exhorts to, and commends a Piece of private, ca-
fual, temporary, tranfient Charity; how much is due, what might be faid of fuch a
publick, fo deliberately defigned, and fuch a lafting one (an everlaſting one I hope)
as I ftand here the grateful Subject of? A private man may caft his bread upon the waters
in hopes to find it after many days, and give a portion to feven and also to eight, because he
knoweth not what evil ſhall be upon the earth. And if notwithſtanding this Defign, and
theſe ſelf-intereſted Principles, the Work is excellent and acceptable both to God and
Man; it muſt needs be infinitely more fo, when a Prince becomes the Donor, under
whofe Confideration, none of thofe Hopes or Fears can reaſonably be thought to fall.
And if the relieving private and ſome few Perfons, want not its Praiſe and Glory, they
muſt both of them rife as the Merit does, where the Publick is obliged, and all may
put-in equal Claim and Title to the Benefaction, that will be content with his Way of
Education. The Story is well known to Us, be fure; but he that would record the
virtuous Qualities and fair Endowments of our glorious Founder, to thofe that are
without, or to Pofterity, could not by any means forget that moft remarkable and no-
ble Inſtance of his large and comprehenfive Soul, in generouſly rejecting one of our
firſt Governors, for his too partial Fondneſs to his native Country, and endeavouring
to appropriate all the Royal Bounty to it only; confidering with himſelf, that though
a private Man might do the fame with Reaſon enough and Juftice too, yet that a Prince
ſhould both in this and every thing befides, approve himſelf a Father of the Publick.
Secondly, A formed, premeditated and deliberate Work of Charity has certainly the
Advantage of a cafual, accidental one; this may be wreſted only by the Importunity
of ſome that want, Compliance with the Cuſtom of the Place, forced by the Exam-
ple of the Company, and Shame of being fingular, or expreft from Men by the la-
mentable Moans and Prefence of fome piteous Object: and Men are often feen, upon
Rémoval of thoſe Objects, and the going down of thoſe mechanick Springs of Ten-
derneſs, to harden and return again to their ill-natured Tempers, and frequently repent
them of the Good they did, wiſhing themſelves again Poffeffors of their Riches. But
he that acts deliberately, that forms his Deſigns before-hand, without any preſent arti-
ficial Motives, and certainly intends them for a laſting Benefit to all Poſterity, muſt be
prefumed in Reaſon and in Juſtice to build upon the beſt and ſureſt Grounds, to pro-
ceed upon the nobleſt and moſt perfect Principles. It cannot indeed be faid, that this
Foundation was the Defign of many Years before, for the King himſelf was then but
twenty-three at the moſt, an Age moſt commonly of little thinking with Great Men,
or at beft, of little elfe, than how to pass away that Spring of Life in Gaiety and Plea-
fure. But yet it was his carlieſt Undertaking and Defign, and had for fome confidera-
-ble time been the whole Employment of his Thoughts, and his Heart was ſo intent up-
on the Matter, that he had little Reſt, till he had brought it to a hopeful Proſpect, and
to fome Degrees of its Perfection. It was no fudden accidental thing that moved him;
it was not the Effect of his relenting Thoughts, after the fhedding fome innocent Blood,
by the Rage of his own Hands, or by the hafty Execution of ſome furious Order; för
he was meek and merciful, fparing of Blood, and tender to his Ruin: of ſuch a gen-
tle and forgiving. Difpofition, that when a rude and impious Soldier ftruck him know-
ingly in Priſon, he afterwards upon the Throne rebuked him only with a Piece of Scrip-
ture, told him, he should not ftrike the Lord's anointed. Nor was it an Effect of his Re-
pentance' upon the cooling of his youthful Blood, nor of the Injunction of his Confef-
for, fer fome Extravaganciès common to that Age. For what was faid of virtuous Gra-
C
tian
8
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
tian, may be faid of him with equal Truth, not Vefta's Altar, Pontifex his Bed, nor Fla-
men's Pillow was more pure and holy than his Chamber.. No honourable Wife, no no-
ble Virgin, private Maid, or confecrated Spouſe of Chrift, called at his Hands for Sa-
tisfaction to their injured Honour. He was of fuch white Innocence, and fuch unful-
lied Sanctity in that behalf, that he could not bear thofe Liberties and Freedoms, that
fince make up
up the very Innocence and Modeſty of Courts.
This Virtue was in truth fo much his own, and fo peculiarly engroffed up by him,
that he ſeems to have carried her to Heaven along with him; and not to have left fuc-
ceeding Kings the very Virtue of Hypocrify, no not ſo much as the Grace to diffem-
ble any kind of liking to that Purity. Nor was it an Atonement for fome loud Op-
preffion, Violence, Injuftice, or fome Sacrilege. It is (faid one of old) the laft De-
fence of wicked Kings, to take away from Some to give to Others, and deprecate the En-
vy and the Odium of their prefent Rapines by fome large Works of Bounty to Pofterity.
But it was not fo with him; for though his Reign were long and troubleſome, and its
Years might have been named and numbred from fome remarkable Calamity befalling
his Perfon or his Government, his Affairs perpetually embroiled by the prevailing Fa-
ction of his powerful Rival and Competitor for Sovereignty, and by the Paffions of his
own imperious and intriguing Queen, by the rude Works of War abroad, and by the
Miſeries of a worſe at home, and confequently a great deal of Injuſtice muſt be done,
yet no Man ever had the Hardineſs to charge the King with any Evil; and that not
for good Manners or Reſpect, but for the Truth and Juftice fake. And it is fo little
likely he would cement our Euildings with the Blood or Tears of the Oppreffed, that
when he was in want of Money to expedite his Intentions, and was ſhown the way,
by ſeizing to that Uſe the Eſtates of fome that had forfeited them by Treaſon, he ge-
nerouſly rejected their Advice, and could not bear the Thoughts, that any one in Af-
ter Times ſhould curfe our Walls, and call with Bitterneſs and Anguiſh of their Souls
for their Forefather's Patrimony.
It is not without Deſign (I own) that I have choſen to recommend our Founder and
Foundation from theſe Topicks. For they who are converfant in the Hiſtories both
of our own and other Nations, (and I am fenfible where I am) know very well, that
Blood, and Luft, and Violence, have laid the Bottoms of more Abbies, Monafteries,
Nunneries, more Chantries, Priories, more Hofpitals and other Charitable Houfes,
than any other Three much better Principles. And though the good Effects may have
atoned for their bad Cauſes, the goodly Children anſwered for the ungracious Parents;
yet no one (ſure) can be ſo partial to the Fruits, as not to wiſh they had ſprung from a
more creditable Stock. And I cannot but think we have ſome Advantage in having ſo
merciful, ſo chaſte and righteous a King our Founder, and moved by no other Princi-
ples than thoſe of Honouring God, and Benefiting Mankind.
Thirdly, The Excellence and Merit of the Bounty we are Sharers of, rife yet much
higher than that commended by St. Paul, by its Advantage of Duration and Continu-
ance. That was a temporary tranfient Act, but This has all the Eternity that human
Things admit of. That called for new Supplies within a while, This only wants that
Men would have the Fear of God before their Eyes, and would with-hold their Hands
from Sacrilege and Robbery. Farther, That but fupplied the bare Neceffities, This
both the Eaſe and the Conveniences of Life. That made Life tolerable, This might
make it eligible; it were not for the Honour of theſe Kind of Works to ſay they went
much farther: to ſay they furniſhed us with a luxurious Table, an overflowing Bowl,
or miniſtred to our Exceſs in any kind. It is enough that they indulge to fomewhat
more than is required by parfimonious uncorrupted Nature, by fober well confidering
Reaſon, and by the Aufterities of Chriſtian Diſcipline.
The laſt and greateſt Advantage that arifes to us from this Sort of Bounty, is, that it
ſupplies the Neceſſities of the Mind and Soul, it gives us Opportunities of improving
the
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689. 9
the Powers and Faculties of the One, and confulting the true and everlaſting Inte-
reft of the Other.
We are here at perfect Eaſe and Liberty, free from all other Cares
and Troubles than what we feek, or draw upon, or plunge into ourſelves: entirely
vacant to the Purfuits of Wiſdom, and the Practice of Religion: have all the Helps,
and all the Encouragements that we can want or wish for. Here we confult with dead
Authorities, and living ones; may underſtand the Rules of Wiſdom by the Examples,
and learn the Precepts from the apparent Practice of every Grace and Virtue. Here
we have Opportunities of frequent Sacraments, and more than daily Prayers; a kind of
Force and moſt agreeable Neceffity of being good, or of appearing fo, or being fingu-
lar in Evil, of Proof againſt the Injunctions of our Governors, the Force of Cuſtom,
and the Influence of good Examples, and confequently fin without Excufe. In a word,
if we would meaſure our Felicities by the Judgment and Opinion of the World with-
out, by our own Longings and Defires after this State of Life before we have attained it,
or by the Torments and Vexations that attend the Remembrance of having left a while,
or loft, or ill improved it, we muſt conclude that we have Opportunities of being learn-
ed, honeft, fober, good and happy Perfons; and that it is in our Power, by co-opera-
ting with the good Grace of God, to fulfil the Words of the Text in their moſt literal
Senfe, and fhew that the Adminiſtration of this Service fupplies the Neceffities of the
Saints, fuch as are truly fo.
gene-
It remains, in the fecond place, that it be abundant alfo in many thankſgivings unto
God, and that in the former Method. First, By ordering Matters fo, that the Diſtributions
of our Benefactors may be an Occafion of glorifying God and our Religion. Secondly,
That we thank God for our Benefactors; and Thirdly and laftly, That we pray for them.
First, We muft order Matters fo, that by the Diſtributions of our Founders, the
Name of God and Chrift be glorified. We live not indeed amidft the Jews or Gen-
tiles now, and confequently cannot either profit them by our good, or fcandalize them
by our bad Examples, or glorify God by their Converfion. But it
But it may be we live
amidſt as fullen and perverſe, and as ill-natured a Generation as either of the former.
For notwithſtanding what I faid of the Judgment and Opinion of the World in
ral about our Happiness, yet there want not ſome that are weak and apt to be offend-
ed at, others rejoycing in, our Failings, and watching curioufly for our Miſcarriages,
fome cauſeleſly complaining of our Way of Education, ſome of our Want of Zeal
and true Devotion, (one may gueſs what they mean;) fome of our ſheltering Igno-
rance and harbouring Idleneſs, ſome of our Uſeleſneſs and Infignificancy to the Com-
monwealth; moſt of them meaning all the while we are too rich and happy, and
calling for a Reformation to the priſtine Purity, becauſe they think it will bring the
priſtine Poverty along with it. So that we have need to walk with all the Care and
Circumfpection in the world; redeeming the Time (for indeed the Days are evil) lo-
fing no Opportunities, but improving our Talents to all Advantages on all Occaſions;
both fearing God and regarding Man, approving ourſelves to ourſelves, and providing
things honeft in the fight of others. Letting our Light fhine before Men, adorning
our Profeffion, and living up to the Rules of our Inſtitution; and by theſe Means,
when Men fhall fee us thus induftrious in our Way, thus happily employed in praiſing
and in practiſing the Rules of Wiſdom, Virtue and Religion ourſelves, in countenan-
cing and teaching others, in cultivating, watering and improving all thoſe generous
and noble Plants they ſend us hither, and returning them fair and flouriſhing in all that
is good and excellent, when they fhall find the Benefit and Comfort of thoſe ſweet
living Streams that overflow from this immortal Spring, they will be tempted ſure to
change their Minds, diſcharge their Hearts of their Malignity, glorify God and Chriſt,
and bleſs the Bounty and the Hand that miniftred to ſo much Good.
Secondly, We must be thankful to God for our Benefactors. For though the glorify-
ing God both in our Bodies and Spirits, which are God's, and reflecting Honour on his
holy
1 C
1
10 A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
holy Name, by a religious fober Ufage of their Benefits, be both the beſt and trueſt
Way of thanking him; yet it is not of itſelf ſufficient, we muſt expreſs our Gratitude
in Ways befitting reaſonable and honourable Creatures, agreeable to God, and ufeful to
the World; fuch as Rejoycing, Praiſing and Thankſgiving, fuch as may alſo edify the
Hearers and Standers-by, and may excite them to the Imitation of thoſe Virtues and
Excellencies they hear and fee extolled in others. And though I did, in reckoning up
the Benefits we receive, lay down fo many Grounds of our Thankſgiving, and have
already mentioned fome peculiar Virtues of our Royal Patron; yet I ſhould ſcarce ac-
quit myſelf of what I owe to my Society, unleſs I offer, in its Name, peculiar Thanks
and Praiſe, Honour and Glory to the Eternal Inexhauſted Spring of Bounty, for all
the Advantages we in particular receive: and fure I ſhould but ill become this Place,
anſwer but ill the Purpoſe of this Day, if I ſhould fuffer Works of fuch Magnificence
to lie in common Heaps of Charity, and be content with general Commendations,
paffing the good King Henry over together with the Crowd and Multitude of Founders.
His Honours ſhould no more be common, undiſtinguiſhed ones, than were his Merits;
his Praiſes ſhould at leaſt equal his private Virtues, if they may not riſe up to his Roy-
al State and his Magnificence. And though each of them fingly were a Task, and
when conſpired and met in one, might rather cauſe one to deſpair of being Juft, than
fear the falling into fervile Adulation or Extravagance; yet not to pay down ſomething
were intolerable, and to imitate the Iniquity of bad Debtors, that chufe to be unjuſt to
all their Creditors, for fear of being fo to fome. And as for Fame, I count a Parfimo-
of it here were next to Sin; it can be never better ſpent, it never can be better
loft, and no good Man but will fay as Mamertinus did to Julian-Mallem eloquentiæ
Laudem, quam Pietatem officiúmque meum defiderari.
ny
In Compliance therefore with the Text, I thank the Immortal God for that Munifi-
cence, by which two Royal Great Societies were founded and endowed: which not-
withſtanding all the Depredations they have undergone, do yet ſubſiſt in fair and ho-
nourable Manner, and are, if not the Envy, yet at leaſt Part of the Praiſe and Glory
of their Neighbours; for making a King, a young and mighty King, the Inftrument
of fo much Good; for inſpiring into his Soul fuch Chriſtian and fuch generous Purpo-
ſes; inſtead of all thoſe vain, ambitious, towering Imaginations, thoſe wicked, wan-
ton and luxurious Thoughts, that fill the Heads and Hearts of common Princes; for
giving us a Founder, whoſe Bounty makes us not more happy Men, than his Example
would, if followed, happy Chriftians: for the Advantage of all thofe excellent Graces
and illuſtrious Virtues that adorned his Life, and fhone fo eminently in him: for his
early Zeal and Piety, his ardent and unparallel'd Devotion towards God: for his inno-
cent and uncorrupted Youth; for his Sanctity, Sobriety and Temperance in every kind;
for his great Love to Learning, and greater yet to good Morality and true Religion: for
the firm and ſteddy Virtues of his Manhood: for his Care of all his Life; and that in-
credible Watchfulneſs over all his Thoughts, and Words, and Works; infomuch that in
twelve Years time, his Confeffor found no occafion to enjoin him any fort of Penance:
for his ready Refignation to the Will of God in all Conditions, for his admirable Pati-
ence under all the Sorrows and Diftreffes, the Dangers and the Difficulties, the Exiles
and Impriſonments, with which his Life was exerciſed for One and fifty Years: and laft-
ly, for his holy End and Sufferings, being found at his Devotions by that inhuman Prince
Richard III. that ſtabb'd him to the Heart, and left expiring out his Soul amidſt his Prayers.
Theſe are the Virtues I can thank God for, without a Bluſh or ſecret Check for flat-
tering or enlarging. Rare, and unfſeen in Kings, and read by private Men with Wonder
and Confufion: ſo that I doubt if moſt of us were left to judge of them by the faint Pur-
fuits and feeble Imitations we have made, there would be great Temptations to conclude
againſt their Truth and Poffibility. Theſe are the Virtues, better far befit the Fame and
Memory of Chriftian Kings, than thoſe of glorious Heroes and triumphant Conquerors,
\
Enlargers
A Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 1689.
II
Enlargers of their Empires, and Terrors of their Generations. For the true Engliſh of
thoſe pompous Titles is, that they have been the Plagues of the Earth, and mighty Mur-
derers of Mankind; that they have made Millions of wretched Widows, Orphans and
Relations; have turned fair Kingdoms into Fields of Blood and Horror, and over-run
the World with barbarous Waſte and Defolation. And though theſe Bears and Tygers,
Wolves and Foxes, are in fome manner neceffary and ufeful in the World, and make
a glorious Buſtle whilft they live, and we are pleaſed with the Relations of their Acts
when dead; (better when dead:) yet no Man in his wits, that can confider, and might
chuſe his State himſelf, but would prefer the Palms of innocent and fuffering Kings, to
all the Laurels and enfanguined Wreaths of thofe renowned Nimrods. Thefe are the
Virtues we can thank God for, becauſe they are ſo uſeful, and ſo edifying to the World;
fo fafe to recommend to all Mankind, but efpecially fo proper for our private Imitation;
fo fuited to our Way of Living, that one would think the godly King had lived on pur-
poſe for our Uſe and Service, and that our Statutes had been copied from his Practice,
with fome Deſign to fhame us into Duty, or make us inexcufable, if we could other-
wife abuſe ſuch Bounty, neglect fuch Virtue, and refuſe to write after ſo fair and good-
ly an Original.
up a
And this is all the Incenſe I will offer to our Glorious Founder. For tho' I fhould
extract the Quinteffence of all the flattering Acclamations of the flaviſh Senate down
from Auguſtus to Auguftulus; the nobleft Flights and moſt exalted Strains of the Panegy-
rifts from Pliny to this Day; the Dedications, the Devices, Mottoes and Inſcriptions of
our neighbouring Kingdom to their vain-glorious Monarch, or from the fervile and de-
generate Spirit of Addrefs at home; and could refine upon them all, and raiſe him
Monument of Praife, as fair and beautiful, and juſt withal, as this I praiſe him in; yet
ens as, if there be any Senſe or Underſtanding of our mortal State; if they above
receive Acceffion of Beatitude from any thing we fay or do below- I know his in-
nocent and righteous Soul will take more Joy, be better pleaſed, if what I have faid can
either move myſelf, or any here, to the Improvement of one Grace, the Exerciſe of
one Virtue, or to the Amendment of one evil Practice.
اد
y
Laftly, We muſt pray to God for our Benefactors. I know very well whither the Ap-
plication of this Part of the Text would have naturally led me, if I had lived when this
great Anniverſary was firſt deſigned, or a hundred Years after it. It was their Way to
fhare the Time allotted to theſe Exerciſes, betwixt the venting trifling and infipid Prai-
ſes of their Subjects; and they were forced moſt commonly, for want of Truth, to feign
their Virtues firſt, like thoſe of Heroes in Romances, and then praiſe them: and be-
twixt the offering Prayers for Reft and Quiet of the Souls of the Departed, and other
fuch Expreffions, as ignorant good Nature, vexed and tormented with Uncertainties,
and Hopes and Fears, and tender Scruples, firſt fuggefted, and afterwards improved to
dangerous and dreadful Superſtition: And the Choice of this moft folemn Dedication-
Day was to have directed me, to whom in Heaven I was to have made my moft par-
ticular Addreſs. But God be thanked, that Task is fpared, thofe Days are gone, and
now paſt Proſpect of Return: the Text means no fuch thing as praying for the Dead.
The good King Henry is, if any one, at reft, and wants no Prayers. The ever glori-
ous, ever bleſſed Virgin, wants nor requires no Service of that nature at our hands. It
is God alone that asks, and that deferves that noble Sacrifice, and to him only let us of
fer it, as is moſt due, with all Humility of Soul; and beg of him, that we, according
to the Example of this righteous Prince, may paſs our Lives here in his Faith and Fear,
and may with him, and all good Souls, be made Partakers of a glorious Reſurrection in
the Life to come, through the Merits and Interceffion of our adored Redeemer Jefus
Chriſt: To whom with the Holy Ghoſt be afcribed all Honour, Praiſe and Glory,
now and for evermore. Amen.
I
A SERMON
I 2
A
RM
SERMON
Preached before the Honourable Houſe of Com-
mons, at St. Margaret's Weftminster, on Thurſday
the 5th of November, 1691.
2ª
JOHN XVI. Part of the 2d and 3d Verſes.
Yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you, will think that he doth
God fervice; and theſe things will they do unto you, becauſe they have
not known the Father, nor me.
T
HIS day is this Scripture fulfilled in your ears: For either we are met to no
purpoſe, or (which is worſe) to a very bad one, to mock and play with
God; or we are met to celebrate with Praiſe and Thankſgiving the Delive-
rance of our Church and Nation, from one of the moſt execrable Attempts
that ever was infpired into the Heart of Man by our great Enemy the Devil, or brought
to light by the good Providence of God; an Attempt of ſuch unuſual Cruelty and
Horror, that nothing but the Diſtance of Time, and a cold Indifference for things paſt
and gone, could let us think thereon without fuch Indignation and fuch Fury, as were
not fit for Chriſtian Hearts to harbour; an Attempt, that nothing but the English Mer-
cy could have forgiven: No Laws, no Nation but our own, but would have purſued
the Authors and Abettors of fuch curfed Principles, with fuch fevere Vengeance, as
would have fully and effectually fecured themſelves from any fecond Fears, or fecond
Dangers from that Side; an Attempt, of which I ſhall fay but a very poor and low
thing, when I ſhall have faid, No Age, no Hiſtory, no Country in the World can
parallel it. If I would raiſe this Attempt as high as Juſtice will permit me, and ag-
gravate the thing according to the Truth, I muſt ſay, it was ſuch an Attempt, as the
Jeſuits themſelves are aſhamed of, and begin, tho' fomewhat faintly, to extenuate and
deny; and then I neither can, nor need to fay more: For if thoſe Men, whom God,
for the Sins of Mankind, hath permitted to compaſs the World, to overturn King-
doms, to diſturb the Peace and Society of Men, to deftroy Morality, to corrupt and
ſtifle Chriſtianity; to fettle Wickedness by Principles, and eſtabliſh Sin by a Law; if
fuch, I fay, once come to extenuate or deny an Attempt, inſpired by Men of their
own Order (and one of them at leaſt Beatified) and to have been acted by their own
Diſciples, there muſt needs be ſo much Hell and Horror in the Compofition of the
Fact, that no good Man can well exprefs it or conceive it: and yet, to come to my
Text, It was done by men, that thought they thereby did God fervice.
}
•
Our Lord being about to leave this World, and to go unto the Father, thought good
to prepare
his Diſciples for that fad parting, by telling them beforehand what he him-
ſelf muſt ſhortly undergo, by the Rage and Fury of the wicked Prieſts and Governors,
with the Neceffity and Benefits of thoſe Sufferings; and afterwards what they them-
felves muſt look for, if they would take up his Croſs, and be his Difciples. Remember
the word that I have faid unto you, the Servant is not greater than his Lord: if they have
perfecuted me, they will also perfecute you and afterwards fums up the whole in theſe
Words,
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691. 13
на
છે
Words, They shall put you out of the Synagogue, that is, they fhall excommunicate you;
yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you, will think he doth God fervice; rò real-
MC CUAGES & TWS DEE άpéonov, faith St. Chryfoftom on the Place, a mighty religious Mat-
ter, and a thing that will pleaſe God: An expiatory Offering, as the Original may im-
port, and a Sacrifice that will atone for Sins: And theſe things they will do unto you,
be-
cauſe they have not known the Father, nor me. So that we ſee our Saviour affigns the
Jewish Ignorance of God and of himſelf, to be the Cauſe and Reaſon of all the Evils
and Barbarities himſelf and his Difciples were to meet withal: Theſe things will they
do unto you, because they know not the Father, nor me.
To know, or not to know the Father, and Chrift, is taken in a great many different
Senfes in the Holy Scriptures, too many, and of too little Ufe at preſent, to recount:
Thofe only that are pertinent to the Deſign in Hand, and our Saviour's Words, muſt be
fuch Senſes and Acceptations, as would influence the Jews to the Cruelties and Perſe-
cutions foretold in this Place. The Jews could not be faid, not to know God, in fuch a
Senfe as to deny his Being; for never People knew him better, never was God ſo preſent
to a Nation, as to theirs; The Lord thy God hath chofen thee ( faith Mofes in Deut. vii. 6. )
to be a ſpecial people to himſelf, above all people that are upon the face of the earth: There
was fuch frequent and familiar Commerce betwixt God and them, by Voices, Vifions,
by Angels and inſpired Prophets, and by other Ways, that it would be the impropereſt
Way of ſpeaking in the World, to fay of the Jews, they knew not God, with reſpect
to his Effence, or their acknowledging a Deity: Nor could it be faid, with any Colour
of Truth, in our Saviour's Time, that the Jews knew not God, in the Senſe it is often
uſed in Scripture, to reproach the World with forfaking the only true God, and ſerving
other Gods: for the Jews were never freer from Idolatry, than in our Saviour's Days ;
nay, and had been for many Years before; and that good Humour has continued fince
for almoſt Seventeen hundred Years; and amidſt all their great Impieties, their wide and
wonderful Difperfions, and their deplorable Calamities, they have ſtill retained the
Worſhip of One and the True God, with greater Simplicity, than Abundance of the
Chriſtian World for many Ages, to its great Shame. Not to know God, therefore in this
Place, muſt in all Reafon fignify, not fo to know him, as to conceive right Notions of
him, or form a Judgment fuitable to the excellent extenfive Goodneſs of the Divine
Nature; and not to know the Father, is, not to attend to, or comprehend fufficiently
the Diſpenſation and Oeconomy of God the Father, in faving them and all Mankind,
by fending his Son Chrift Jefus into the World; and not to know the Son, is, not
to receive and believe on him that was thus fent, for their Deliverance. Thefe Heads I
ſhall inſiſt on in the firſt Place; and in the ſecond, try to fhew how fuch Barbarities
and cruel Ufages as are here foretold, may proceed from the aforefaid Heads; and laſtly,
apply myſelf to the Buſineſs of the Day.
gave
First then, the Jews may properly be ſaid, not to know God, as not conceiving aright
of his extenfive Goodneſs towards all the World. They were certainly a People of the
moft groſs Capacity, moſt ſenſual Apprehenfion, fleſhlieft Heart, and floweſt under-
ſtanding in the World; and God in Compliance to this ſtupid Temper, dealt with them
accordingly, wrought Miracles continually amongſt them, and
them almoſt every
Day ſome fenfible Token or other of his favourable Preſence; and if he flackned but his
Arm never fo little a while, he was fain to be at the Expence of fome new Miracle, or
fome great Judgment, even to convince them of his Goodneſs, or his Power again. The
whole 78th Pfalm, which is an Epitome of their Hiftory, may confirm the Truth of
what I have faid. Now God by this material, as it were, and fenfible familiar Way of
treating and converfing with them, came to be thought, in Time, their Local God,
their proper and peculiar Deity, and was called and accounted by themſelves, as well as
by the Nations round them, the God of the Jews, the God of Abraham, and their God,
I D
in
14
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691.
in a hundred Places, and our God, in as many or more, not only in Contradiftinction
to the Gods of the Heathen, or that he favoured them infinitely above all the Nations
of the Earth befides; for the firſt was very reaſonable, and the ſecond very true; but
by way of Exclufion to all the World befides, as though he had no Care of, or Regard
to any other Part of Mankind, and only exerciſed his Vengeance on their Enemies, now
and then, as he or they faw fit. Now this was a narrow Notion of God's Providence,
and far unworthy the immenſe Benignity of the divine Nature, which loves and governs
all the World, though not (we think) with equal, yet with great Care and Tender-
neſs, and Wiſdom; proportioning his Favours not to Peoples Merits, but their Necef-
fities, and to his own Mercies. Now though this Jewish Selfiſhneſs and Humour of
appropriating God's Goodneſs to themſelves, may feem of itſelf to be of little Confe-
quence or Moment, yet I believe it will appear, that the Fruits of it, were not only the
being obftinate and proud themſelves, but the fcorning, and the hating all Mankind be-
fides: for fo light and unbalaſted is the Mind of Man, that even a Guſt of Favour from
an earthly Prince, drives him away and toffes him he knows not whither, and makes him
proud and infupportable, and fets him on defpifing, and it may be, trampling on the
World about him: and though the Reaſon be not the fame, yet the Effects are much
alike in the Cafe of God's Favours: The Infolence of fpiritual Pride is extravagant
and infufferable, and an overweening Conceit of being extremely high in God's Love
and Favour, and one of his peculiar Saints and Creatures, is the moſt dangerous Rock a
Soul can daſh againſt; and has oftentimes proved more fatal, than fome downright Vice;
it is the Parent of intolerable Arrogance, ftand by thyself, come not near to me, for I am
holier than thou, If. lxv. 5. It is the Mother of Scorn and ill Nature; God I thank thee
that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican,
Luke xviii. II. and the Paffage from this Spirit of Pride and Contempt, to that of
Hatred and Violence is fhort and eafy, the Line that divides them almoſt imper-
ceptible.
Again, God had prohibited their Commerce, in a great Degree, with any of the Na-
tions round about, which they obeying, became, in ſome Time, churlish, ill-natured and
untractable, (for nothing poliſhes and evens ſo the Roughneſs of Mens moroſe Tempers,
as Trafficking and Converfation) and not attending or obferving, that the Reaſon of
God's Prohibition was from the Proneneſs of their Hearts to Idolatry, and falling fo
eafily into the Worſhip of the People they converſed withal, they thought it was only
becauſe thoſe Gentiles were profane, hated of God, and an Abomination in his Sight;
which though it were true of all their evil Practices, and finful Cuſtoms, yet it was by
no means true of their Perfons: but of all Things in the World ill Nature is the worſt
Diſtinguiſher, it will not ſeparate Sin from Sinners, nor abſtract the Perſon from his
Faults. God has declared his Hatred and Abhorrence of a great many particular Crimes,
and is Wife, and Juft, and Merciful enough to love and pity an Offender, even whilſt
he hates and puniſhes the Offence: but an impotent malicious Man, can do nothing of
all this, yea thinks himſelf obliged to hate and perfecute to Death, thoſe whofe Offences
God declares againft: but fure the Reaſon is as weak as the Malice is ftrong. For what
if God ſhould hate a Man, how does it follow I muft hate him too, unleſs commanded?
It is true, God is the beſt Example I can follow, but his Judgments are unſearchable
and his Ways paſt finding out," and he has always Reaſons, but yet not always fuch as
may juſtify my Imitation. But as unreaſonable, and undue a Confequence as this ap-
pears, yet it is a very frequent Slip; and all Men think they have a Right, as well as the
Jews, to fay with David, Do not I hate them that rise up against thee? yea I hate them
right fore, as though they were mine enemies. Which though it be reaſonable and necef-
fary to apply to the Wickedneſs and evil Practices of Men diſhonouring and defaming
God and his Worſhip, yet the Compliment would go too far, from Civility to God,
I
to
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691 1691
Is
to Cruelty and Hatred of our Neighbour. Farther, as God continually was pouring down
his Benefits and Favours on the Jews whilft they continued firm and conſtant in his Ser-
vice, ſo he purſued their light Apoftafies, their Startings and their Revolts, with Puniſh-
ments as cloſe and conftant: And the Nature of Man which is much more querulous
than grateful, more fenfible of one Evil than of an hundred Benefits, and always prone
to conclude on the worfe Side, prompted the Jews to look on God, as on an angry and
vindictive Being, and one that feemed delighted in Juftice, rather than forgiving; and
ſeeing he required Obedience with fuch Exactneſs, and puniſhed their Offences with
Rigor, they eafily imagined they muſt be as zealous in his Service, and as jealous of his
Honour, as poffibly they could, and confequently muſt revenge all fuch Affronts and
Indignities done to his mighty Name and holy Majefty, with all Severity; and though
this may be good to a very great Degree, yet there is Danger it may paſs into an ill Ex-
treme; and ignorant and impotent Man knows no Mean, but finding that to be in fome
Meaſure his Duty, which is partly his natural Inclination, he runs with all his Might,
and never thinks of ſtopping, and that is the Reaſon that a great deal of Zeal degene-
rates very eaſily into Anger and Cruelty; it is only adding Fuel to a little and a gentle
Flame kindled before, fuch as is Zeal, and it will in Time, a little Time, become a
fpreading and confuming Fire.
I am very fenfible that theſe Productions and Effects, may ſeem at firſt too mighty
for the Cauſes affigned; but to one that well and thoroughly confiders human Nature,
with all its Folly, Malice and Imperfection, I am afraid they will appear too adequate
and juft. A little Spring fends out a mighty Stream, and a ſmall Seed grows up into a
tall and fhady Cedar. A Mean, and at firſt, unheeded Principle, becomes in Time
the Bottom and Foundation of a marvelous Superstructure, and brings forth Fruits and
Confequences not eaſily prevented or avoided afterwards. Let any Man but call to
mind, what a little Matter it was at firft, that biaffed him to incline to fuch a Cauſe or
Party, and how that Inclination carried him to wiſhing well, and that to Affection,
and Affection to fiding with it, and that to Zeal, and Zeal to the promoting and ad-
vancing it, and that to oppoſing all its Hindrances, and Oppofition to Vexation, and
that to ill Will, and ill Will to Miſchief, and that to Hatred, and thence to Violence
and Outrage, and Cruelty, and Perfecution. Let a Man, I fay, but trace his own
Heart at fuch a Rate as this, and he will find a little inconfiderable Caufe, fufficient to
produce the moſt aſtoniſhing Effects. And of all Cauſes, none fo fruitful and produ-
ctive as thoſe that border on Religion, and call in God into their Intereſts and Party; no
Miſtakes fo fatal and ſo deſperate in their Confequences, as thoſe that are built on mifap-
plied Scripture, falfe Conceptions of God's Nature, with unworthy and diſhonourable
Thoughts of any of his Attributes. For, as I intimated before, Man thinks himſelf
naturally obliged (and is undoubtedly fo, where he can with Reaſon) to imitate and draw
as near to his God as poffibly he may: and therefore will, as near as can be, conform his
inward and his outward Behaviour, to the Notions and Conceptions he has of God's
Nature. Some barbarous Gentiles of old, conceived God to be an angry fanguinary
Being, and the Confequence was, they were inhuman in their Manners, and worſhipped
him with horrid Rites, and human Sacrifices: and others gentle and benign, becauſe they
thought their Deity was Merciful and Good. And therefore it is of mighty Uſe and Be-
nefit in all Reſpects, that Men ſhould be taught to conceive nothing of God, but what
is juſt and honourable, merciful and good. And he may very properly be faid not to
know God, that conceives any hard unworthy thing of him.
Secondly, The Jews are faid, Not to know the Father, becauſe they did, or rather
would, not know and underſtand the Diſpenſation and Oeconomy of God the Father,
defigning to ſave the World by fending his Son Chriſt Jeſus into it; they were ſo ſtrongly
perfuaded that their Law was to laft for ever, that they could not entertain fo much as a
Thought
16 A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691.
Thought of its Aboliſhment. The Paffover was to be kept a feast to the Lord throughout
their generations. You shall obferve this thing, faith Mofes, for an ordinance to thee and to
thy fons for ever. Exod. xii. 13, 17, and 24Verfes, and Ch. xix. 9. And fo for the offering
of a ſweet Savour; One Ordinance ſhall be both for you of the Congregation, and alfo for the
Stranger that fojourneth with you, an ordinance for ever in your generations. Numb. xv.
15. The fame of the Heave-Offering by an Ordinance for ever. Numb. xviii. 8. And
fo for the Continuance of the Priesthood in the Houſe of Levi. The Lord thy God hath
chofen him out of all thy tribes, to stand to minister in the name of the Lord, him and his
fons for ever. Deut. xviii. 5. And of the Temple, I have hallowed this houfe which thou haft
built, to put my name there for ever, and mine eyes and my heart shall be there perpetually,
faith God himſelf to Solomon, 1 Kings ix. 3. 2 Chron. vi. 6, 7. and 16. with Abun-
dance of other Places, that they thought promiſed an Eternity to their Conſtitution.
And being of a grofs Underſtanding, and taking all things literally, they could never
be brought to think of parting with their Legal Difpenfation. Their Fathers had re-
ceived it from God himſelf, who engraved their Tables with his own Hands at firft,
and afterwards had dictated to Mofes, and delivered his Commands, and executed his
Decrees by the frequent Miniſtry of Angels; and this muſt needs enhance the Price and
Value of the Law. Moreover, they had before their Eyes fo many noble Inſtances,
fo many great and extraordinary Examples of Patriarchs, and Prophets, Kings and va-
liant Heroes, that had been born and bred up in this Way, and pleaſed God, and were
his Favourites, and the Sons of his Grace, by walking ſteddily therein, that it was not
eaſy to imagine ſuch a Law could now at laſt diſpleaſe him fo as to renounce and to ab-
rogate it: and beſides, themſelves had fucked its Precepts with their Mothers Milk, had
been initiated into its Rites with Pain and Blood, and therefore could not lightly give it
over; and the Law and the Prophets were full of Cautions and fevere Threatnings
againſt ſuch as ſhould violate it themſelves, or attempt to perfuade others; and all this
will naturally beget in Men a very ſtrong Tenacity of Opinions, and an obſtinate Refo-
lution to maintain them againſt all Oppofers: And three or four Confequences of rough
unruly Nature, will without great Care, and the Grace of God, bring them to a revenge-
ful and exterminating Temper. Had not our Saviour done fuch mighty Works amongſt
them as never had been done by Mofes or Elias, or any other of the Prophets, and fuch
as could be wrought by no mortal Power, but carried with them evident Tokens of an
Almighty Hand, and fulfilled their Prophecies fo exactly, the Jews had been not only
excufable, but highly commendable in rejecting him. But this is not at preſent ſo much my
Bufinefs, as it is to fhew, that even honeſt and zealous Men that did not believe the Do-
&trines of our Lord, might, as St. Paul himſelf did, degenerate into Hatred, Cruelty,
and Perfecution, both of Him, and his Diſciples: not to extenuate their Guilt, ſo much
as to fhew the Force and Power of human Nature, biaffed by fuch natural and acciden-
tal Prejudices. And as to the Chief Prieſts and Rulers, to whom our Lord immediately
refers, as to their not knowing the Son, and therefore perfecuting him to Death and all
his Followers; the Account is this: They were now in full and peaceable Poffeffion of a
Religion made up of glorious Outfides, and external Shews, pompous Sacrifices, and
glittering Ceremonies, with which the trifling World is raviſhed and ſurprized, the
Hearts of the Worſhippers exalted with vain Pride, and the Beholders dazzled and ama-
zed. And here was Jefus, and they knew not who, came to diſturb them in their Way
of Worſhip, preaching up grave and ferious Matters, talking of wonderful, unheard-of
and unpractiſed Morals, difcourfing of Judgment, Righteouſneſs, of Faith and Chari-
ty, and other weighty Doctrines and Commands, together with an unavoidable Neceffi-
ty of Repentance from dead Works. And this was a mighty Change, and grievous to
Fleſh and Blood. To give up Shews and Ceremonies, of which Nature is very fond,
for the Simplicity and Plainneſs of ſerving God in Spirit and in Truth, with which Men
áre
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691. 17.
are foon tired, to exchange fome eafy corporal Geftures, and artificial Motions, for the
fober Exerciſes of the Mind by Prayer and Contemplation, and the Painfulneſs of
cloſe Attention: To give up the eafy Commutation and Atonements of Sins and
Trefpaffes, by the Lives and Sacrifices of brute Beafts, for the bitter Sorrows of Repen-
tance, and the moſt ſolid and expenſive Sacrifice of Prayers, and Tears, and Satisfa-
Єtion, ſeemed to the Scribes and Pharifees, and Sadducees and Priefts, a very hard Ex-
change, and an intolerable Bargain: And therefore it is no wonder, that Men fo fenfu-
ally affected and tied to the Things of this World, fhould oppofe themſelves with fo
much Might and Vigor, to the Preachers of fuch mortifying ſpiritual Doctrines: And
that rather than be diſturbed in their Purſuits, than loſe what they liked and loved, and
accept of what they could not endure to think on, they fhould confpire the Death of
our Lord the Author, and his Difciples the Promoters of them. Again, theſe Prieſts,
theſe Scribes, and Doctors of the Law, had corrupted the Jewish Religion to a prodi-
gious Height: They had darkened all the Prophecies of the Meffiah's coming in fuch
meek and lowly Manner as he came: The Sadducees, a mighty and a prevailing Sect, de-
nied the Refurrection of the Dead, the Exiſtence of Angels and Spirits, and yet were
good Jews ftill, and fome of them came to be High-Priefts; and all of them by their
vain and wicked Traditions, ungracious Comments, and ungodly Gloffes, had al-
moft killed Morality at the Root. And our Saviour boldly reprehending this ungodly
Practice, and laying open before all the People their enormous Villanies herein, fo ftir-
red their Indignation, that they reſolved upon his Death. The Reputation of Sinceri-
ty and Honeſty is a tender Point, and like the Eye, will not endure the leaſt Touch:
Tell a Man he is Vicious, and he will laugh; fay he is a Sot, and Lewd, and an unkind
Relation, and he will forget it quickly; but tell him he is a Villain and a Knave, a Cheat
and Impoftor, and you fill his Heart with Rage and Rancour, and treaſure
up Wrath
againſt an Opportunity to deſtroy your felf. What? tell the High-Prieſt, the in-
fallible High-Prieſt, the prophefying High-Prieſt, the Succeffor of Aaron and of Mofes
too at this Time, the Man to whom were committed the Oracles of God; tell him,
that in Cathedra, with his Conclave, nay with his Sanhedrim, that he had grofly erred
in interpreting Scriptures, in darkning Prophecies, in corrupting Morality, and cheat-
ing the People, is not to tempt a Danger at a Diſtance, but boldly enter on De-
ſtruction, when you have to deal with Men that neither will, nor think they can amend.
Laſtly, Theſe Men were in preſent Poffeffion of the higheſt Honours, and Places (it
is no doubt) of Intereſt and Advantage. And our Saviour's Doctrine ſeeming to over-
throw their whole Oeconomy, and put an End to all the ceremonious Part of Mofes
his Law, and all the civil Power, as much as depended thereon, it is not to be wonder'd
at if they grew jealous and afraid of the rooting and fpreading of Chrift's Doctrine,
and took the moſt effectual Means, in human Policy, to rid themſelves of the threat-
ning Danger, by putting him to Death. For as naturally as Men abhor from ſhedding
of Blood, fo, or more naturally do they love their Honours and their Intereſt; and if
theſe cannot be ſecured without that, they feldom or never ſtick or ſtartle at it.
And now having fhewn, as the Time would let me, in what Senfes the Jews might
be faid not to have known God, not to have known the Father nor the Son,
and how thoſe Kinds of Ignorance came to produce fuch barbarous Fruits, and
bloody Ufage of our Saviour and his Followers, and done what Right I could
to the Text: I am come in the third and laſt Place to apply it to the Bufi-
neſs of this Day. But oh! how far from the Deſign of Chriſt in ſpeaking
theſe Words, from the Intention of the bleffed Spirit dictating, and from the cha-
ritable Saints that left them to us in his Goſpel. Who in the World that hath ever
heard or read the Conflicts, Torments, painful Agonies, and Deaths of all the Apoftles
but St. John, would not have hoped the Prophecy in my Text had received its full and
laft Completion in their Martyrdoms? But who at leaſt would not have hoped 300
I E
Years
18 A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691.
Years had been fufficient Time, and that the Jews and Gentiles only fhould have been
its barbarous Executioners and Fulfillers? Had not our Saviour been all-knowing God
himſelf, one would have ventured to fay he could not poffibly forefee, that Chriftians
ſhould in Tract of Time become the moſt exact and literal Accompliſhers of this his
Prophecy, that ever ſhould be in the World, and that to none but Chriftians? The time
cometh that whosoever killeth you, will think he doth God fervice; and this will they do, becaufe
they have not known the Father nor me. That is the Text. What an abfurd Comment
would this be The Time cometh when my Religion fhall prevail over the Jews and Gen-
tiles Rage and Perfecution, and most of the World fhall have given their Names to me, and
become Chriftians; then whosoever killeth you Chriftians, will think he doth God and me his
Chrift Service; and this will they do, because they, and they alone are infallibly certain they
know the Father and me, and are refolved that no body shall dare to know the
Father and me, in any other Way, or Mode, or Form of speaking but their own.
And yet as abfurd as this Comment ſeems, and truly is, yet it is juſt in every Syllable;
for it is not I that made it, but the Practice of the chriftian World for fome hundreds of
Years paft; and the preſent Age hath refined upon the Abfurdity in great Meaſure, and
writ the wicked Nonfenfe in Characters fo large, that he that runs may read. Who
was it that butchered moſt inhumanly the Albigenfes, and the Poor of Lyons, with ſuch
Barbarity, that though the Relations come from Monks, yet they would move a Heart
of Stone? Who was it totally extinguiſhed Proteftantiſm in all Moravia, Silefia and Bo-
hemia? Who was it that barbarouſly diſperſed its Flocks, and more than barbaroufly
uféd its Minifters, and laid its Temples wafte and defolate in Hungary? Who was it maf
facred the Hugonots in France in 1572. and have taken effectual Care of later Days,
that we ſhall never more reproach their Cruelty, by leaving there no more to maffacre?
Who were the Kindlers of thoſe fierce devouring Flames in our Queen Mary's Days,
that confumed ſo many living human Sacrifices; and who were Authors of the Iriſh
Maffacre? Chriftians! What were the Wretches that were treated thus but Chriftians?
And wherefore, but that they thought they did God Service in fo ufing them? If we
ſhould yet proceed to enquire upon what Grounds and Reafons Chriftians go, when
they purfue each other to Death, and find it is, becauſe fome know the Father and the
Son in one, and others in another Way; and the ſtronger will impoſe his Way of
knowing on the weaker, or elfe he ſhall not know at all; a confidering Man muft ftand
amazed, and have a very mean Opinion both of human Reafon and the chriftian Infti-
tution: And yet the Cafe is neither better nor worſe than fo. One knows the Father and
the Son in Pomp and ceremonious Oftentation of external Worſhip; and another in
Plainneſs and Simplicity: One ferves him by the means of Images and gorgeous Repre-
ſentations; another worſhips him in Spirit and in Truth: One takes his neceffary Do-
&trines from Tradition's Mouth; another from the Oracles of God alone: One forms
his Notions of a Church, from what his Fancy tells him were convenient it ſhould be;
another takes it as he plainly finds it, and is content with the Wiſdom of God, which
often ſeems but Fooliſhneſs to Man: One intereffes Saints and Angels in his behalf to
God the Father, together with the Mediation of the Son; another thinks that God
the Son is fufficient of himſelf, being as powerful as willing to fave to the utmoſt all
that call upon him. One will have all the Sacrament in both Kinds, as it is certain
Chriſt diſtributed it, and his Diſciples, and the Church after them for many Ages:
Another gives but half, but fays it is the whole to all Intents and Purpoſes, arguing
with Subtilty and much Diſtinction in a Matter wholly of Inftitution and Revelation.
One takes that Sacrament, and believes it is a Myftery, and certainly made what our Lord
defigned, and what the Words effect with Prayer: Another takes it, and believes that
God hath made himſelf, which yet deftroys the very Notion and Nature of a God, by
confounding the greateſt Proof we have of fuch a Being, as neither had nor can have
a Beginning: And that when he is thus made anew, Man takes him in his Mouth, and
fwallows
I
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 5. 1691.
1691. 19
fwallows down into his Stomach the Son of Man, of thirty three Years of Age, and
the eternal Son of God, by whom he made, by whom he redeemed the World; with
Abundance of other plain diftinct Doctrines as any in the World; yet calls it, after
that, a Myſtery. And what is the Event of all this Contrariety? Why, that they who
know the Father and the Son one Way, fhould not endure that any one ſhould know
them in another Way, and live. It is in vain to tell them, that you guide your felf by
the Light of Nature, and make the beft Ufe you can of your Reaſon, and call in the
Aids of Learning and an honeſt Mind, and ſubmit to whatever appears to be plainly re-
vealed: This will not do; you must believe, or diffemble, or die; if you have not Faith
or Knavery, you muſt have Patience and Courage, to attend to the laft Reaſons of Fire,
and Sword, and Halters. Sure it is impoffible that Chrift our gracious, merciful, ado-
rable Redeemer, fhould leave the Bofom of the Father, where he reigned in everl.:fting
Love and Unity, to come and fow the Seeds of Strife and Difcord upon Earth! That he
fhould take upon him human Nature, to diveft it for ever after of the Bowels of Com-
paffion! That he ſhould defcend to inſtruct the World in new unheard-of Leffons of
Barbarity! That he ſhould defign to abrogate the Sacrifice of Beafts, and ſpare their Lives,
to ſubſtitute the Lives of Men, and fatiate his incenſed Father, with the horrid Steams
of human Blood, and let his own be ſhed, to teach us how to pour out one another's on
the Ground, like Water! He fhould not have been born of fuch a fweet and gentle
Maid, nor fucked the Breaſts of any human Female; he found the World in better
Order, and ruled by milder Principles: And if thefe Things be fo, he will give us leave,
as there is Reaſon, to ſay with reſpect to the Concerns of this Life, good had it been
for Men he never had been born. But God forbid Things ſhould be fo! Heaven is not
farther diſtant from the loweſt Hell, the Purity of GOD himſelf from the Pollutions
of the vileft Sinner, than bloody Principles and Practices are from Chrift's Religion.
Of all the Conſtitutions and religious Difpenfations, and Oeconomies, that ever were
contrived by Men, or revealed by God, there is none fo little able to fupport the deadly
Weight of Inhumanity, as the Chriſtian is. The very Incarnation of our Saviour preaches
up Love and Goodneſs, in the loudeft Tone, and moſt affecting and furprizing Manner
in the World. The Angels fang not only glory be to God on high, but peace on earth, and
good-will towards men; and that not only in refpect of God, but of one another. Ne-
ver was Life more full of Sweetneſs and Humanity! His Doctrine was all Peace, and his
Practice one continued Act of going about and doing good. Love was his old, his new,
his firſt, his middle, and his laſt Command; Love was his living Exerciſe, and Love his
dying Legacy. It was the Badge and Cognizance of thoſe that truly followed him, By
this ſhall all men know that ye are my difciples, if ye love one another. And to be ſure he
did not mean Men ſhould diſtinguiſh fo exactly as they do, the Love of their Neighbours
Souls, from that of their Bodies. It had been wretched trifling and unworthy of our Lord,
or any good Man, to have ſo frequently preffed the Duty of loving one another, if he
intended only loving of their Souls. By this fhall all men know that ye are my difciples, if you
love one another's fouls, though ye torment their Bodies Days and Years, by Tortures,
Racks, and Engines, by burning, ftrangling, and blowing up, or any other exquiſite
ingenious Way of murthering them: This I fay, had been unfit for Chriſt, or any
good and fober Perſon to intend; and only worthy of the villanous Subtilty and tender
Nicety of the Fathers of the Inquifition, who whilft the Eye-balls of the Sufferers in
that fanctified Hell, are rolling in Death, and ſtarting from their Orbs, and their Souls
expiring amidſt the Torments, ftand kindly by, and with wondrous Charity befeech
the Executioners, by the tender Mercies of God, and by the Bowels of our Lord, to
take
great
heed they ſhed not a Drop of chriſtian Blood. As if the tender Mercies of
our God, and the Bowels of our Lord, were not an Adjuration ſtrong enough to move
Compaffion for the Body as well as the Soul, and for other Ways of killing as well
as ſhedding Blood. No, if the Spirit of Chriſt and his Religion be to be diſcovered
1
in
20
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691.
in the Goſpel and the facred Writings of the Apoftles, let Men pretend never ſo much
to know the Father and the Son, yet if their Principles and Practices tend to Blood
and Cruelty, and let them be never fo firmly perfuaded in their Minds that they do
God fervice, we may as certainly conclude they do not know the Father nor the Son, as
we may that there are fuch Perfons in the Godhead.
If then, for the Credit of Nature, for the Honour of human Reaſon, and
for the Truth and Sanctity of Chrift's Religion, we muſt acquit them of all
Blood and Barbariſm, where muft we lay, on what muſt we diſcharge the Horrors of this
Day? To what muſt we attribute thoſe perpetual Plots and dark Contrivances, to trouble
the Felicities, and rob the Nation of the precious Life of our immortal maiden Queen;
who, though her Reign were long as it was glorious, yet might have almoſt marked
and counted every Year, by fome Attempt of fome ungodly Meffenger from Rome, or
Factor for their Partizans? It were endleſs, and uſeleſs too, to dwell on the particular
Diſturbances, and ftrong Concuffions, that this Nation in efpecial Sort, hath felt from
that ambitious, reftlefs, and blood-thirſty Party. My Defign is rather to repeat in ſhort
the Grounds from whence they all proceed. 1. The Decrees of general Councils.
The Bulls of Popes againſt whole Nations, or particular Perfons. 3. The private Do-
ctors Writings and Authority. 4. The Encouragement the Attempters find, if they fuc-
ceed, in this World; if they miſcarry, in the next.
2.
Whether the Councils I intend, and that are fo frequently cited for this Purpoſe, do
decree the Extirpation of Hereſy, in ſo abſolute Terms as to lay a Neceffity on Princes
and Governors to perform, is a Diſpute I need not engage in; it is enough, and even
too much in Confcience, if they have left the Matter in fuch looſe uncertain Terms, that
they whoſe Intereft, mifguided Zeal, or fanguinary Tempers, fhall incline them to fuch
Attempts, may find their Excufe, and take their Sanctuary in thofe Terms. The Go-
vernment of Tunis, Tripoli, of Salle, Argiers, are far from making any Laws exprefly
to command their Subjects the Exerciſe of Piracies and Robberies; yet they are practifed
every Day, and an honeft Man would go near to die, that fhould reproach them with
it; and yet no Man can clear them of the Injuſtice and Violence. And that ſome
Councils have gone farther than this, it is agreed upon by all our own Writers, and taken
amifs by a great many of our Adverfaries if queftioned, and denied with a very ill
Grace by any of them. And if Councils which have obtained amongſt them the greateſt
Veneration, and which if well and rightly managed, would deferve, and find it too
from us, and all the fober World befides, if they ſhall but feem to countenance, much
more command, fuch cruel and unnatural Things; the greater their Authority is, the
greater will the Mifchiefs be, the worſe the Confequences; and who ſhall deliver their
Souls from them?
Secondly, That Popes, to gratify their Spleen, Ambition or Revenge, have by their
Bulls, excited Princes to exterminate their Subjects, and Subjects to rebel and rife
againſt their Kings; and thereby caufed horrible Devaftations, inhuman Maffacres,
and overflowed the World with Seas of chriſtian Blood, is fo plain and manifeft, that
it is as often confeffed with glorying in the Power, as denied with Abhorrence of the
Fact. And it is but turning to the Chronicles of any Nation in the World, to find the
exorbitant Power, and ill-got Credit of theſe Sovereign High-Prieſts, have been the
Cauſes of as many Evils, publick and private, as any Thing in the World befides.
A third Occafion or Ground of theſe Diſturbances and barbarous Practices, is the
Writings and Authority of the Doctors in Requeſt. A Profeffor of Lovain wrote a
Book of late, on Purpoſe to prove, that abundantly more had written in Defence and
Maintenance of the depofing Doctrine, than againſt it; afraid, one would think, we
ſhould be miſtaken, and think it poffible for the true Roman Catholicks to be good
Subjects. But there is an Order of Men, fo famous for theſe Sort of Writings and accur-
fed
A Sermon preached before the House of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691.
21
fed Labours, and for the Guidance of Men's Confciences, and confequently governing
the World, that ſeem in fuch peculiar Manner to have appropriated the Power and
Principles of Blood and Miſchief to themſelves, that it were a Kind of Treſpaſs and
Affront to their Wit and Policy, their Pride, Ambition, their Malice, and Revenge, to
attribute any of our publick Evils to any other primary Cauſe, and firſt Original. It
cannot be that a Prophet perish out of Jerufalem, faid Chrift: It cannot be that any
mighty Mischief, any Mafter-Piece of Wickedness, ſhould be done without that Order, ſays
all the Chriſtian World. I came not to fend peace, but a fword, faid our Lord, that is,
by Accident, and fore againſt his Will, but theſe Men give us fuch a Scheme of Chriſti-
anity, as makes the Sword feem natural, defigned, and neceffary. Be ye wife as ferpents,
faid our Lord, and innocent as doves; but thefe Men have refined on Wiſdom, and
the Cunning of the World, to that Degree, that they ſeem to have underſtood our Sa-
viour, as exhorting to the Imitation of the old Serpent, and the red Dragon, bending
their Studies wholly to the Confufion of the World. My kingdom is not of this world,
faid Chrift. All kingdoms of the earth, fay they, are Chrift's; and in his Name will we
tread them under, that rise up against us. To be ſhort, whilſt theſe Men's Writings are in
Vogue, and the Confciences of Men committed to their Guidance, the Chriftian World
muſt never look for Peace; and if God, in Pity to the World, prevent not the Growth
of their abominable Doctrines and Deſigns, when the Son of Man cometh, he ſhall nei-
ther find Morality nor Faith on Earth.
The laſt Foundation of our Dangers, and Disturbances, that I will mention, is the
Encouragement the bold Attempters meet withal, if they fucceed, in this Life; if mif-
carry, in another. Riches and Honours are fuch powerful Motives and Temptations,
that fometimes the reputed wife and brave and generous Souls, are vanquished by them:
But when they meet with needy and ambitious ones, they find them ready and prepared
before-hand for the Wickedness; or if theſe are not for the turn, there are others of a
dark and clouded Soul, eat up with deſperate melancholy Thought, and overwhelmed
with Zeal and Sadneſs; which Tempers moulded artificially by raviſhing Deſcriptions
of the Joys of Heaven, and worked into a lively Hope, nay Certainty, of once pof-
feffing them, are fit for all the Impreffions in the World, and ſtick at nothing for the
gaining them. And then, if Poiſoning, Stabbing, or cutting of Throats, be repre-
fented meritorious of Heaven, they will quickly find, or make an Opportunity, al-
though the Way leads to the Paths of certain Death, with Torments. And that theſe
Courſes have been taken, amongſt a hundred other Witneſſes, the dark Contrivance of
this Day ſhall riſe in Judgment and atteſt.
Theſe are,
I think, the chief, though not the only Arguments that have all along in-
fluenced the Sons of Violence to our Deſtruction more or lefs, and always will, till God
give them the Grace to renounce the wicked Principles they build upon, and inftruct
them truly in the Knowledge of himſelf, and of our Lord and Saviour Jefus Chrift.
For without this mighty Operation of God's Spirit on their Underſtanding and their
Wills, to think that they who never failed of being cruel where they could with Safe-
ty, who never ſpared a Nation or a Country yet, will now, or any time grow merci-
ful and kind, is to hope the Ethiopian may change his ſkin, and the leopard his fpots, and
they do good who are accustomed to do evil.
Let us then (to conclude) be juſt to the Memory of this Day, and keep it from the
Fate of obfolete and antiquated Things. It was of late endeavoured to be laughed
and frowned out of Countenance and Credit; and had not God in his all-wife Difpofal
of Affairs, marked it anew with a peculiar and moſt ſignal Providence, and made it
memorable once again, by bringing on it, to our Shoars, our brave and generous Prince,
to ſave us from the fame (though now more open and more manly) Enemies; this Day
had, doubtleſs, by the imperious Sway of fome, the vile and criminal Compliance of
others, and by the Acquiefcence and the cold Indifference of the reft, been wholly ra
I F
zed
22
A Sermon preached before the Houfe of Commons, Nov. 5. 1691.
żèd from out our Kalendar, and in a little time denied as confidently by them all, as it
has been of latter Days by fome. But if fuch Matters of Fact, ſo publickly and noto-
riouſly atteſted, are to be diſbelieved, and diſcredited ſo ſoon, that the Aſhes of our Fore-
fathers, the defigned Sacrifices of this Day, are ſcarcely cold in their Graves; what Faith
ſhall be given to theſe Men's Hiſtories of paſt or prefent, or of Times to come? Let us then
be juſt to the Mercies of God, doubled this Day upon our Heads, and gratefully remem-
ber theſe Deliverances paft, and ſtudy to walk worthily for the Time to come; that we
tempt him not by Infidelity, Unthankfulneſs, or Wickedness, to deliver us over into
the Will of our Adverfaries. Let us be just to our Religion, and that Knowledge of
the Father and the Son, to which we have already attained by the Light and Under-
ſtanding of the Gofpel. Let us have the Principles of Blood and Miſchief in all the
Abhorrence and Abomination in the World, as becometh thoſe that profeſs the Goſpel
of Chrift. Let us hinder them from taking Effect, by all the lawful and the honeſt
Means allowed us: Let us fay of them and their Religion (as far as it is not Chriſtian)
what dying Jacob faid of his two Sons, Simeon and Levi: Inftruments of cruelty are
in their habitations: O my foul, come not thou into their fecret, unto their aſſembly, mine
honour, be not thou united: For in their anger they flay men, and in their felf-will dig down
walls: curfed be their anger, for it is fierce, and their wrath, for it is cruel. But let us
withal, put in Practice all thoſe Leffons of Peace, and Love, and Gentleness, of Mer-
cy, and Compaffion, and Forgiveneſs, that our Religion urges and obliges us to: Let us
heap Coals of Fire and fervent Charity upon their Heads; and let them fee and know
we are not more reformed from the Corruptions of their Doctrines, and their fuperſti-
tious Practices, than from their Doctrines of ill Nature, and their Practices of Cruelty
and Blood. We ſhall in vain pretend to diſtinguiſh our felves by Name and Party, if we
change not Nature and Condition: We must not think to exclaim on their Uncharita-
bleneſs and Cruelty, to exerciſe our own. Tumults, and Rage, and Fiercenefs, and
Deſtruction, are as innocent and chriſtian in Romish Hands and Hearts, as they are in
Proteftants; and it may be ſo much the more, by how much the leſs we pretend to them:
and wretched are we if we condemn in them what we approve and what we allow of in
our felves. If then we would convince the World and them, that we know the Father
and the Son as we ought to know, we muft purfue the Things that make for Love, and
Peace, and Unity. Which the God of Peace grant we may all of us do, for the Sake of
him who came to preach it to us: To whom, with the bleffed Spirit, be all Honour and
Glory, Might and Dominion, now and for ever.
A SER-
23
A
SERMON
R M
Preached at Chrift-Church, before the Governors
of that Hoſpital, on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
To the Right Worſhipful Sir JOHN MOOR, Knt.
and Alderman, Prefident of Chrift's Hoſpital,
London; To the Worſhipful MATTHEW
HAWES, Efq; the Treaſurer; and to the reſt
of the Worshipful Governors of the faid Hofpital.
I
GENTLEMEN,
Twas with great Readiness that I undertook the preaching of this Annual Sermon, and
it is not with any great Reluctance that I fubmit to the Printing it: I propose the fame
End, and entertain the fame Hopes, of doing good by it now, as I did then; and fomewhat
the more I promise my felf, by how much farther it may chance to spread. I am loth to
fay, that the Abfence of a great many Perfons whom I looked for, whom Cuftom, and the
Obligation of their Truft ſhould call together on theſe folemn good Occafions, might furniſh
me with an Excufe for making publick this Difcourfe, if otherwife I wanted one: For if it
be neceſſary Men ſhould hear thefe Things, we must purfue them when they fly from us, and
give them Opportunities out of Courſe, when they will not take them in the appointed Seafons.
But I hope there is no need of any Excufe for doing this. It is an excellent Subject I have
taken in Hand, and greatly concerns us all, but thoſe eſpecially whom God hath bleſſed with
great Eftates. Whether I have treated it well or no, will beſt be ſeen by its Effects; for if
that be the best Sermon which brings forth the beft Fruits, it will depend entirely upon You,
whether this fhall be a good one or no. Make it, I intreat you in the Name of God, as good
as poffibly you can; and let the Poor and Needy in their feveral Kinds, both fee and feel that
you like and love to practife, as well as read, a Sermon upon Charity.
The God of Mercy and Compaffion keep and bless you, for your Care and Faithfulness, in
the diſcharging that good Truſt repoſed in you, and raiſe you up continually Benefactors, to
Support the conftant great Expence that you are at, to the Glory of his Great Name, the
Honour of our Holy Church and Nation, and this great City in efpecial Manner, and to the
Comfort of his poor and needy Servants.
I am,
GENTLEMEN,
Your moſt Affectionate, and
moft Humble Servant,
W. FLEETWOOD.
24 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
GALAT. VI. 10.
As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially
unto them who are of the houshold of faith.
S
AINT Paul being about to conclude his Letter to the Galatians, and having
I
ye
heard (it is very likely) that the Paftors of that Church were much neglected,
exhorts them to the exerciſe of due and decent Liberality towards the Miniſtry;
in the 6th Verſe, Let him that is taught in the word, communicate to him that
teacheth, in all good things. Agreeable to what he faith, 1 Cor. ix. 11. If we have foun
unto you ſpiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall reap your carnal things? Do
not know, that they which minifter about holy things, live of the things of the temple;
and they which wait at the Altar, are partakers of the things of the Altar? And, left
any one ſhould object, that this refers to the Jewish Practice, and concerneth not the
Chriſtians; he adds in the 14th Verfe, Even fo hath the Lord ordained, that they which
preach the Gospel, fhould live of the Gospel.
And foreſeeing what Excufes and Pretences Men would make; fome, That their
Families were to be maintained; others, that they had not wherewithal; and all of
them ſhifting it off, as well as they could; he proceeds in the 7th, Be not deceived, God
is not mocked; Do not think it fuch a light and trifling Matter, this that I have mentio-
ned: God will not fuffer himſelf to be defpiſed and mocked in the Perfons of his Mini-
ſters: Luke x. 6. He that defpifeth you, deſpiſeth me; and he that deſpiſeth me, deſpiſeth
him that fent me; i. e. God, faith our Saviour. And though he may for a while defer
his Judgments, yet he will one Day, in its proper Seaſon, puniſh the Contempts and
Injuries that are poured upon his Servants. And left they ſhould think that all that goes
befides their own Hands, were loft, and fo fhould be with-held from contributing, as they
ſhould, and ought to do; He tells them, That whilſt they were doing good, they were,
in a manner, ſowing, what in Time would rife up to a plenteous Harveft: That it was
not thrown away, that they advanced to this, or any other good Purpoſe; that they ſer-
ved a very righteous and a faithful Mafter, one that would not forget their Labour of
Love, in miniſtring to good Ends, and good People; One that was able, and engaged
by frequent Promiſes, to make them good Amends, and fair Returns, for all the Ex-
pences they ſhould be at, on his Account: And one that on the other hand would take
a ftrict Account, how it was they ſpent the Stock he made them Stewards of in this
Life, how they employed the Talents he committed to their Truft: For what a man
foweth, that shall be reap: For, He that foweth to the flesh, He that confiders nothing
but the Neceffities, "Conveniencies and Pleaſures of this Life, without Regard to, or
Provifion for the next; he that feeketh his own only, and looks after nothing but him-
felf, and mindeth neither God, nor God's Servants, fhall of the flesh reap corruption:
The Harveſt ſhall be anfwerable to the Seed fown, he fhall heap together what ſhall
come at laſt to nothing. Whereas he that foweth to the ſpirit, he that liveth a ſpiritual
Life, whoſe Heart is with God, whofe Thoughts are above, and who mindeth heaven-
ly Things, and whofe Actions confequently are guided by God's Rule, and accordingly
does all the good he can; this Man fhall, from this fpiritual Seed, reap life everlaſting.
And then by Way of Encouragement he adds, And let us not be weary of well-doing; whilſt
we are here on Earth, let us be doing all the good we can; let us with Chearfulneſs and
Readineſs of Mind be exercifing our Charity to good People, and fowing to the Spirit
all we can; for in due time we shall reap. The Apoftle perfifts in his Metaphor ſtill,
and diſtinguiſhes the Seaſons of fowing, and of reaping; Now is the Time of fowing
whilſt we live, now is the Seafon of doing good, whilſt Chriſt in his Goſpel ſhines up-
on
A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 25
on us in this Life; and the Time of reaping is that to come. Solomon ſays, that he who
obferveth the winds, ſhall never fow; Eccl. xi. 4. And he that will, in like manner, wait
till the World goes well with good Men, and all Things fucceed to the Defires of the
charitable and bounteous Perfon, before he will do good, fhall never do any good at all;
for Men will always be unthankful, and the World will always return evil for good:
And therefore, that we ſhould not be weary of well-doing, the Apoſtle propounds the
greateſt Reward imaginable, but in the other World, and that too upon fuppofal of
Perfeverance to the End, if fo be that we faint not: For they who perfevere not to the
End, are like thoſe fooliſh Huſbandmen, who, when they have plowed and ſowed,
proceed no farther, take no care to cover it from the Fowls, or from the nipping Froft,
or fcorchings of the Sun; they have thrown their Seed, and Time and Pains away to
bad purpoſe; and fo do they who begin in ſowing to the Spirit, but faint before the
Time of reaping come. In Hopes then of this glorious Harveſt, Let us, whilft we have
opportunity, do good to all men, but especially to them who are of the houshold of faith,
to God's domeftick Servants in efpecial Manner. In which Words we have theſe
Things to confider.
I. The Duty exhorted to, of doing good; Let us do good.
II. The Extent of this Duty as to Perfons, to all men in general, but eſpecially to
God's domeſtick Servants, especially to the houshold of faith.
III. The Time of doing it, whilst we have opportunity.
IV. and Lastly. The Reward we are to fet continually before our Eyes, to the ſtir-
ring us up to the doing good, implied in the Word therefore: He had faid in the
foregoing Verfe, We shall reap in due time; and in the Text, Therefore, whilſt we
have opportunity, let us do good to all men.
Of theſe in their Order: And
It, Of the Duty exhorted to, Let us do good.
To do good, is a Phraſe of a large and comprehenfive Signification, and takes in the
whole Duty of a chriſtian Man, to which we are undoubtedly exhorted in the general;
but in this Particular, to do good, fignifies to do acts of charity and beneficence. And in-
deed it is hardly poffible to do good with reſpect to one's Neighbour, but that good
muſt be a Kind of Charity, a Relief or Succour to them in fome particular or other,
where they wanted it, or elſe it could not deſerve the Name of good, which muſt have
relation to fome Evil or Inconveniency they would otherwiſe have ſuffered; and it has
obtained by Cuſtom, that doing good, and being charitable, are Phraſes of the ſame Im-
portance. And fo it is frequently in the New Testament, Is it lawful to do good on the
Sabbath-Day? faith our Saviour, when he was curing Diſeaſes, Mark iii. 4. Ye have
the poor with you always; when you will, you may do them good, Mark xiv. 7. Charge the
rich, that they do good, 1 Tim. vi. 18. But to do good, and to communicate, forget not,
Heb. xiii. 16. And that doing good in this and in all Senfes, indeed, is the general Du-
of us all, is not only plain from Reaſon and Scripture, but acknowledged and confeſ-
fed by all the World.
ty
When a Man is the Object of this Charity and good himſelf, then he fees nothing fo
clear and evident, as that all Mankind are by Nature obliged, and urged by Reaſon,
and compelled by Scripture, to fhew that Charity, and do that good he finds he wants;
and he thinks the Man injurious to him, that refufes him what he ſtands in need of,
and the other could fupply without his Detriment and Lofs. And when the Scene
changes, and he himſelf becomes the Party applied to, he does not plead that he is not
obliged to relieve the diftreffed Supplicant, but makes Excufes of his Inabilities, and
feems concerned that he wants the Power to anſwer to his Will. And whether Men's
Excufes are good or bad, whether their Wants be true or pretended ones, is no great
I G
Matter
!
26 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
Matter here; they ſerve alike to ſhew, that in Reaſon and Conſcience all Men are, and
hold themſelves obliged to do all the good they can. So that there needs no proving the
Reaſonableneſs and Neceffity of Mens complying with the Exhortation in the Text,
Let us do good.
One might alſo, if there were Occafion, enforce this Matter farther, from the Con-
fideration of the Pleaſure, and the Profit too, that attends the Practice of doing good.
There is nothing fills the Mind with more Content and Satisfaction, than acting agree-
ably to natural Light, and to the Rules of Reafon: There is a fecret Joy, moreover,
fprings up in the Heart, at helping of a Fellow-creature, in reſcuing human Nature
from the Wrongs and Miſchiefs that it fuffers in our Brother: There is an innocent
and pleafing Kind of Pride in being fuperior to the Evils that afflict another; and it
makes up a Triumph in the Mind, to free that other from them. There is nothing,
a word, that is more pleafing in Contrivance and Defign, nothing more grateful
and delightful in the acting, nothing that leaves a ſweeter Odour after it, and raiſes
more Complacence in the Mind, and glad Remembrances, than doing good. Nei-
ther is the Profit any whit inferior to the Pleaſure, as might be ſhewn at large from fe-
veral Heads, if it were neceffary. I rather chufe to paſs on to the Second thing to be
confidered;
II. The Extent of this Duty of doing good, which is to all men.
The Galatians were in danger of Judaizing in their Practices as well as Doctrines,
i. e. of loving none but themſelves and Countrymen. The Jews were grown fo fa-
mous for this churlish and uncharitable Temper, that the Heathens took great notice
of it. They would not ſo much as direct a wandring Paffenger into the right Way,
nor fhew a thirſty Traveller a Fountain where he might refreſh his Thirſt, unleſs he
were a few or a Profelyte. And our Saviour feems to hint at this, when he tells them
who their Neighbour was, Luke x. 30. where he difcovers this ill-natured Practice, by
the Prieſt's and Levite's paffing by the Stranger, who were both of them Jews, and in-
forms them, they muſt leave off thoſe unneighbourly, ungenerous, and narrow Noti-
ons, and muſt do good to all Mankind, as it came in their way; and not imagine that
the Jews alone were the Neighbours intended by God, when he commanded them
to love their neighbours as themselves. And it is with this Proſpect that St. Paul adviſes
the Galatians to do good unto all men; not to fuffer themfelves to be led away by the
Example of the cloſe and narrow-hearted Jews; but to account that all that wanted
their Affiftance had a Right to it, by vertue of that Title of Want: That our Saviour
had commanded them, not only to do good to thoſe they loved and were beloved by,
but to thoſe that curfed, hated, and defpitefully uſed them; That they might be the chil-
dren of their Father which is in heaven, who maketh the fun to rise upon the evil and good,
and ſendeth rain on the juſt and unjust. Not that they ſhould make no Difference and
Diſtinction in their charitable Acts, but give promifcuouſly, and alike to all; for that
cannot be the Meaning of the Place, which is contradicted in the next Words, but efpe-
cially to thofe of the houshold of faith; but that no Nation, Party, or Religion, fhould
exclude Men from their Charity, if their Wants had made them Objects of it: That
all Mankind was fitted for their Love and Pity, and was to partake of it in Time and
Place convenient, notwithſtanding his Opinions in Religion, Difference of Nation,
Practice, or Belief: That People's Wants made them Objects of Charity, and not
their Agreement in Opinion, or their being of ſuch a Party. And therefore he that
would be charitable, muft relieve the Wants of the Neceffitous, whoever they were, as
it came in his way. When therefore he exhorts us to do good to all, he only means
that no one ſhould be abfolutely excluded and incapacitated from receiving Benefit,
when his Condition calls for it, and ours will bear the doing it. He does not hereby
make
A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 27
make void the Difference and Diſtinction that the Laws of Nature, Nations, and Re-
ligion have already made, and ſuch as are certain; nor fuch as by unfortunate Acci-
dents, or unforeſeen, or unavoidable Calamities, are become fuch. The Calls of Na-
ture muſt and will be heard firſt, and no Laws can or will fuperfede them: And the
pofitive Laws of God are to be heard next, and next to them the Laws of the Land;
and after theſe are fatisfied, Men are left to govern themſelves by the Rules of Prudence
and Diſcretion, by the Affections of their Minds, and the Examples of wife and good
People. It would be tedious to recount the Particulars that are to be preferred in doing
good; I will only give a word or two, to the Inftance St. Paul ufes here, especially to
thofe that are of the houshold of faith, becauſe ſome Men are not fo well fatisfied in this
Particular, as in the reft. But the Reaſonableneſs of this will appear, 1. From the
Practice of all Times and Nations, conforming to each other, and agreeing in this,
That the Priesthood was to be provided for apart, and that it was to be maintained in
Honour and Eſteem: Where-ever there has been People, there has been Religion, ſuch
as it was; where-ever there has been Religion, there have been Perfons confecrated and
fet apart from fecular Employments to attend its Service; and where-ever it has been ſo,
there was a Maintenance provided for them at the publick Charge. 2dly. It was fo by
God's Appointment with the Jews. 3dly. It was fo by Chrift's Appointment under the
Goſpel, as appears from the Paffage before cited by St. Paul, 1 Cor. ix. 14. Even fo bath
the Lord ordained, That they who preach the gospel, ſhould live of the gospel. And though
St. Paul himſelf worked for his living in a fecular Employment, and ſome perhaps at
that Time with him; yet the Cafe was fingular, and he chofe to do fo for particular Ends
and Purpoſes he had, and argued ſtrongly in behalf of others Provifion, though he made
no Uſe of it himſelf: And there has been no other Inftance fince his Time, of
Churchman that hath taken up a profeffed Employment or Trade to live by, with-
our great Scandal to the Church, and againſt its Rules and Canons. No People, till of
late, ever thought it decent to remove from the Shop to the Pulpit: None from the
Days of Corah, Dathan, and Abiram, till fome Years ago, have dared to fay with
them, Numb. xvi. 3. That all the congregation were holy, every one of them, and the
Lord among them, in the Senſe of thoſe deplorable Sufferers. 4thly, The Canons of the
Church have not only forbid them taking up any Trade or Calling, but the Laws of the
Land have made it highly penal for them ſo to do,* even to the taking of a Farm to
rent, which yet is one of the moſt innocent, and leaft fcandalous Ways of living,
amongst us. Laſtly, Though this ſhould be permitted them, yet the Way of Educa-
tion that is abfolutely neceffary to the accompliſhing and fitting People for the Miniſtry,
does perfectly unqualify them for any other Employment; and the Time that is necef-
farily fpent in the due difcharging of that Office, will afford them but little Leifure to
attend any other gainful one. Theſe Reaſons, whofe Heads I have only mentioned,
with a great many others that eafily occur to any thinking Perfon, may be fufficient to
fhew the Reaſonablenefs and Equity of St. Paul's remembring the Galatians, That in
their doing good to all men, they should have a more especial regard to fuch as are of the
boufhold of faith.
A
any
But though the Apoftle's Argument do neceffarily require, that by the Houshold of
Faith, be here eſpecially meant the Paftors of the Church, and them that teach; yet
thoſe Terms do alſo comprehend the whole Chriſtian Church, all the Body of Belie-
vers, as oppoſed to the prophane Gentiles, and to the unbelieving Jews; and then the
Words are to be taken in this Senfe; You are in Danger to be taught by the Jews, with
whom I find you frequently converfe, that all your Charity is to be tied to one Nation,
and confined to People of the fame Perfuafion; but this is too narrow a Notion of the
chriſtian Charity, which is defigned to enlarge Men's Hearts, and to extend their Love
*
21 Hen. VIII. cap. 13.
and
28 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
and Kindneſs over all the World; the Commands of Chriſt, and confequently his
Apoſtles Exhortations are, that Chriftians ſhould do good to all men; but that where a
Preference can be made, without Offence to Charity, it be made in behalf of Chriſt's
Servants; If there come a Competition betwixt a Jew, a Gentile, and a Chriftian, and
the Merits and the Wants be equal, the Preference ſhould be made in Favour of the
Chriſtian, in Honour of our Lord, and to the Encouragement of his Religion. And
the fame Reaſon there is, that in our Diftributions among Chriftians, refpect be had to
thoſe that are the beſt, that behave themſelves more devoutly towards God, and care-
fully and honeſtly towards their Neighbours, where the Diſtreſs is equal, and the Ne-
ceffities alike; for the better People are, the nearer Relation they have to God, and
the higher Offices they bear, as it were, in God's Houfhold, and confequently have a
better Title to the Benefits exhorted to in the Text, To them efpecially that are of the
boushold of faith.
ye
Thirdly, Here is the Time expreffed of doing this good, namely, whilst we have op-
portunity. Yet a little while is the light with you, walk while ye have the light, left dark-
neſs come upon you; for he that walketh in darkneſs, knoweth not whither he goeth: While
have light, believe in the light, that ye may be the children of light, faith our Saviour,
John xii. 35. Give glory to the Lord your God, faith the Prophet, Jer. xiii. 16. before
be caufe darkness, and before your feet ſtumble upon the dark mountains, and while ye look
for light, he turn it into the shadow of death, and make it grofs darkness. I must work
(faith the Lord of Day and Night himſelf, John ix. 4.) the works of him that fent me,
while it is day; the night cometh when no man can work. There is a Light, and a Day,
and a Time given us all, to work out our Salvation in, to do the Will of God, to per-
form his Commands, and to perfect the Buſineſs in, he fent us hither for. And behold
(as St. Paul fays, 2 Cor. vi. 2.) now is the accepted time, behold now is the day of falvation.
The Light and the Day is this Life, and the Place is this World, and it is now, and it is
here, that we muſt walk in the Ways of God, and do the Works of his Command-
ments. Now while we live, is the Time of making Matters fure; now is the only Op-
portunity of doing good, which if once let flip, there is no more recovering it: For
there is no wiſdom in the grave, faith Solomon, Eccl. ix. 10. and he that goeth down thi-
ther, ſhall come up no more to his houſe, neither ſhall his place know him any more, faith Job,
vii. 9. Since then it is agreed upon all Hands, that it is all our Duties to do all the
good we can, as we have Opportunity, and we have no Opportunity of doing it be-
yond this Life: Why is not doing good, the Confequence of theſe two Premifes? How
comes it that Men know the Neceffity of doing it, and the Benefit of it when done,
and the Time allotted them to do it in, and yet there is fo little done? The Reaſon,
I think, is this, that Men promiſe to themſelves ſtill better Opportunities than the pre-
fent Time they think affords them: They put the Execution of their good Purpoſes
off from day to day, and imagine that a more convenient Seaſon will preſent itſelf;
that to morrow and the next day may produce fome new Matter, and change the Cir-
cumſtances of things to their Advantage; and waver about in theſe Uncertainties, till
Life itſelf, the great Opportunity, is unexpectedly cut off, and all their Thoughts pe-
riſh: Whereas if they were as wife in this, as in other Matters, they would rather ar-
gue thus; I find I am obliged by Nature, Reaſon, and Religion, and (God be thank-
ed) by my own Inclinations, to do all the good I can; and I know affuredly withal,
that the Good to be done by me, is to be done in this Life, while it pleaſes God to con-
tinue me in this World; and becauſe I cannot poffibly tell how long I have to live,
and what is like to be the Number of my Days, and that every Day produces fome
ſtrange Inſtance of the Uncertainty of Life, and the Suddenneſs of Death, therefore
I muſt put my Deſigns of doing good in Execution prefently, for fear I fhould be pre-
vented;
A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 29.
vented; my Defires and Refolutions may prove abortive, if I defer them any longer;
therefore my Purpoſes ſhall be, as foon as poffibly they can, Performances. Can any
Premiſes be plainer? Can any Confequence be juſter and more reaſonable than this? I
muſt do good whilft I have Opportunity, but I cannot tell how long this Opportunity
may laſt, or when it will end: I am only fure of the prefent Time, that which I have
in Poffeffion is only mine; therefore if I will fecure myſelf, I muſt do all the good I
can immediately, and whilft the Time is in my hand; the Time to come is none of
mine; I am not Mafter of the enfuing Year, nor can command the Month that's en-
tring: If I bid the Morning haften, or the Evening flacken its Pace, becauſe that I
intend to do fome good, they neither hear nor mind me, but proceed according to Ap-
pointment, and each of them may find me cold and fenfelefs, and incapable of either
doing or receiving any farther good in this World. And therefore when St. Paul advi-
fes to do good whilst we have opportunity, he adviſes us to do it as foon as poffibly we can,
and that we loſe no Opportunity by Delay: It may otherwiſe happen to us, as it did
to the
poor Man that promiſed himſelf fuch Eaſe and Pleaſure in the Enjoyment of
the Fruits and Riches he had treafur'd up; Thou fool, this night fhall thy foul be required
of thee, and then whoſe ſhall those things be, which thou haft provided? We frame a great
many fine Projects in our Heads, contrive abundance of good Defigns, and intend to
do the Lord knows how much Charity; but the Sentence paffes out from God upon
us, and cuts us off in the midſt of all our Purpoſes, and what is then become of all
our good Intentions? We are gone to a Place where great Account will be had of all
the Good we actually have done, and would have done, if we had but Opportunity;
but little or none at all will be had of that which vanifhed in Defign, and went no
farther than the Brain. But that may not be the worst in fome Cafes, where we ſhall
give account for all the Abilities and Opportunities we had of doing good, but over-
flipt or quite neglected.
But Secondly, There is an Opportunity of the Will, as well as Time, which muſt be
taken hold of; for though the Opportunity of Time may be continued to a Man, yet
the Will and Inclination may be changed. The Will, we know, is very uncertain,
and tacks about with every new Variety of Accidents; the Inclinations alter with and
without Reaſon, as they fee convenient; and he that promiſes to himſelf at this time,
that fix Months hence he will have the Mind and Inclination to do ſuch and fuch things,
underſtands his Temper but a little, and is but indifferently acquainted with the In-
conftancy of human Nature, and the Deceitfulneſs of his own Heart. He may be
fure enough indeed, that if he be then of the fame Opinion he is now, that he ſhall
do the Things he now refolves on; but, for ought he knows, his Mind may be then
averſe from the Purpoſes he now makes; and therefore if they are good, he had beſt
fulfil them in their propereft Seafon, which is Now, when Time and Inclination meet
and are agreed. The Mind (I fay) is humorous and fantaſtick, toffed up and down in
great Uncertainty, and even the graveſt, ſobereſt, and moſt neceffary Reſolutions are
oftentimes perverted by the moſt inconfiderable and trivial Accidents; and therefore
we muſt ſtrike in with the Inclinations preſently, and not permit the Deſigns of doing
good to cool and grow remifs.
Sometimes it happens that the Mind is warmed with fome unuſual fupernatural
Heat, and is ardently inflamed with the Defire of doing good, and it looks like an
Impulſe from Heaven; but if it be not preſently complied with, it returns no more,
but vaniſhes. Sometimes a Man returns from Church, and the Sacrament; and fome-
times riſes from his Prayers, or from reading or hearing an affectionate Diſcourſe;
ſometimes is ſeized upon the fudden, with a Heart full fraught with godly Purpoſes,
charged with good Intentions and excellent Reſolves; he finds himſelf ſenſibly affected
with what paſſed, ſees the Reaſonablenefs and the Neceffity of changing his Courſe,
1 H
and
30 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
!
and doing all the good he can, whilft he continues in this World; but returning to
his Bufinefs and Employment, entertaining his Friends and Guefts, repeating the
News, giving Orders to his Servants, refolving to proſecute one Affair to-morrow, and
another the next day, and ſo on, the Deſigns of doing good begin to wear out of his
Mind, and all thoſe Thoughts periſh; and if by accident they are again revived the
next good Opportunity, they have ſtill the fame Fate to die abortive, for want of be-
ing preſently complied with, and exerted into good Acts. So that he who intends to
follow St. Paul's Advice, of doing good whilft he has Opportunity, muft by all means
reſolve to attend to the Motions of his Heart, and to take himſelf, as it were, in the
good Humour.
Thirdly, There is alfo an Opportunity of Power, to be complied withal, and with-
out which the others fignify but little; for Men may have both Time and Will to do
good, that have not the Opportunity of Power. And indeed it is often ſeen, that
when Men have Time and Power, they want the Will; and when they have Will
and Time, they want the Power: If therefore they would be fecure, they muſt do it
when they are able. Not that any one ſhall be blamed or puniſhed for not doing good,
when he has no Power of doing it, but for omitting it, whilſt he had the Power; for
not doing it before he was diſabled. And the Reaſonableneſs of complying with the
Exhortation in the Text, whilft we have Power, depends eſpecially on the Uncer-
tainty of human Affairs, and the Inſtability of all Conditions. If a Man will patro-
nize the Innocent, protect the Weak, defend the Poor and Fatherleſs, and fee that
fuch as are in Need and Neceffity have right; if he will correct the Diffolute, reſtrain
the Oppreffor, and profecute the wicked and malicious Perfecutors of the injured Poor,
he muſt do it whilft he is a Judge and Magiftrate, and has the Power and Opportunity
in his Hands, for elſe his Pity comes too late, when his Power is gone: And his Love of
Juſtice, and Deſigns of doing it, end in imperfect Wiſhes. And fo it is in the Deſigns
of Charity of all forts; They muſt be brought to Effects, they muſt be accompliſhed
while we have Abilities; for many are the Ways, and ſudden are the Accidents, that
difable Men from doing good. As every Element contributes to the enriching, ſo it
does to the impoveriſhing of People; and every little thing that makes for, does alſo
ſometimes make againſt a Man; and it is hardly poffible for an Accident that is exceed-
ing favourable to one, but it muſt alſo have an ill Aſpect on another, or that one King-
dom ſhould flouriſh mightily without fome others decaying. So that the Uncertainty
of Men's continuing in a profperous State, fhould be an Argument to haften them on
to doing good, whilſt it continues, and not as it is commonly made, a Pretence for
with-holding Charity; Men make it an excuſe for doing none at all. They ſee ſo many
fad Accidents, ſo many Families reduced to beggary and want,fo many Storms and Tem-
peſts on the Seas, ſo many Inundations and Fires at Land, that though they are at
preſent enabled to do good, yet they cannot tell how long it will be fo with them, and
therefore they forbear. Whereas for this very Reaſon, they ſhould do what good they
could immediately. Their Eftates, they fay, are expoſed to a great many fad Chan-
ces: Yes, they are; therefore, fay I, fecure fome Part of them from all Chance; fe-
cure them in the Bowels of the Poor; fecure them with the Bleffing of God; put
them into his Protection, and then they will be fafe: Make him your Bondſman, and
he will be reſponſible. Had you rather truft the Seas with all you have, than God with
a very little Part? Is it fafer in a Board two Inches thick, within a Yard or two of the
devouring Sea, and expofed to the Fury of a Storm, than under the Protection of the
Almighty? Is it fafer, think you, where it may become a Prey to Fire and Thieves,
than where no Accidents or Men can reach it? But what if Peoples Fears ſhould come
to paſs? What if all they had ſhould indeed be confumed by Fire, or taken
away by
Villains? Would the Lofs be greater, for having given away ſome Portion of it to the
في
!
Poor?
A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 31
you in
you,
Poor? Would it not rather comfort one, to think that ſome was faved, and ſaved fo
well? But what lamentable Excufes muſt a Man be forced to make on theſe Ac-
very
counts? I would do no good when I could, becauſe I was afraid I might, by chance,
be difabled from doing it. Why, what's the Difference betwixt chufing to be diſabled,
and being made unable by Accident? but that one is a Fault, and the other a Misfor
tune; and you chuſe the Fault, and are fallen into the Misfortune? I would do no
good when I could, becauſe I was afraid; Of what? that I might come to want my
felf. Then put theſe things together: I was afraid of relieving others wants, left I
fhould come to be relieved myself. Well, but now you are become an Object of Charity
by fome of the Accidents you ſo much dreaded, and who ſhall help you? Who ſhall
afford you that Relief that
that Relief that you denied to others, for very fear you fhould be forced to
ask yourſelf? Do you not perceive that the Judgment of God hath overtaken
this matter, and that you are caught in your own Snare; and that the very Fear of fal-
ling into Miſery yourſelf, ſhould have made you charitable to another, which yet you
made the Reaſon why you were not fo? I refuſed to do good, when I was able; but
now I would, and cannot: this is the beſt that can be faid by you. But how are you
affured of this, that you would, if you could, do good? You remember the Time
when you could, and would not; and you remember the Reaſon which hindred
7.e. the Uncertainty of Men's Conditions, and the Inſtability of human Things; and
fince that Reaſon is not like to mend upon your hands, why fhould you think your
Mind would not be the fame again, in the fame Condition? And therefore he that re-
fuſes to do good, becauſe he is afraid of evil Times and fad Miſchances, is a miſerable
Man, whether thoſe Times and Chances overtake him or not. If they do not, he is
a miſerable Man, that does no good when he is able: and if they do overtake him,
then he is miſerable with a witneſs; firft, in being deprived of what he loved fo dear-
ly; fecondly, in the ſad Remembrance, that whilſt he had his Riches, they were uſe-
lefs to him, and he did no manner of good with them. Whereas, on the contrary,
if the charitable Man, by God's Permiffion, fall into Misfortune; if he, that has in
his Time been good to thoſe that wanted, come by fad Miſchance to want himſelf, he
does not only find Mankind ready to pity and relieve him, but he has the greateſt Eaſe
and Satisfaction in the World about him, in his Mind: He remembers that whilſt he
was Poffeffor of his Wealth, he did what good with it he could, and that the Needy
ſhared with him. He can rejoice with Job in his Affliction, Job xxix. 12. Because I
delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him; the blef-
fing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caufed the widow's heart to fing
for joy. It entitles him to the Hopes of receiving Benefit from others; it makes his
State not half fo troubleſome, in freeing him from the Remembrance that would
plague him, if he had neglected doing good whilſt he had Opportunity: But now be-
ing well ſecured of that, he is able to fay with Comfort, Whilſt I had it, I uſed it as
I ſhould; and now it is gone, no more will be expected; The Lord gave, and the Lord
hath taken away; bleſſed be the name of the Lord. Theſe are the Senſes in which this
Phraſe, Whilst we have opportunity, is to be underſtood: We muſt do good, whilſt we
have Time, when we have Will, and whilſt we are able: Before God cuts us off by
Death, whilſt our Inclinations are bent that way, and for fear we fall into Misfortune,
and become unable.
IV, and Laftly, To the encouraging us to the doing all the good we can, we have
the Reward we are to fet continually before our Eyes, implied in the word therefore.
Let us not be weary of well-doing; for in due feafon we ſhall reap, if we faint not : There-
fore, whilſt we have opportunity, let us do good to all men. The Practice here exhorted
to, is pleaſant, profitable, and neceffary: the Time we have to do it in is very ſhort,
the
32 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
the Will inconſtant, and the Opportunities not many. It is a thing we like exceed-
ingly whilſt doing, and as well when done: We ſhall all of us wiſh one day, we had
attended to this matter; and they that have done moft, will wish they had done yet
more; and they who have done little or none, will wish they had done nothing elſe.
It is that which makes us think on the Time paſt with Eaſe and Comfort, and on the
Life to come with Hope and Pleaſure. The Day of Trouble, and the Day of Death,
are the two proper Times to try the Ufe and Excellence of Things and Friendſhips in ;
and in both theſe Times there is nothing ſtands a Man in more and better ſtead, than
the Remembrance of his charitable Acts. The Soul is then exceeding bufy, and looking
out continually for what may give it Eafe and Quiet; and finding all external Succours
fail, turns and deſcends into itſelf, and there revolves the Actions of the Life paſt, to
find what has been done that it can faften on, and can abide by: what it can feed up-
on at prefent with Content, and what afford a comfortable Proſpect for the future. The
Splendors of the Life paft, the pompous gay Appearances the Man hath made, the
mighty Friendſhips and Dependencies contracted, the honourable Vifits given, and
had; the great Entertainments, the numerous Train of Servants and Attendants, with
all that goes along with, and that follows a magnificent luxurious Fortune, do then
afford but little Satisfaction to the Mind upon Reflection: It rather wiſhes that thoſe
Things had never paſt: There is Fear at leaſt, and ſome Sufpicion, due to the mena-
gery
of that Life; it was a State of Danger, liable to the Diſorders of Exceſs and Wan-
tonneſs, and to a great deal of Folly and Vanity at the beft; and if it eſcaped theſe
Evils, yet it is gone, and a Man is never the better for all that is paft. Even the necef-
fary Proviſions made for Children, Wife and Family, do but barely content the Mind
at preſent, and free it from the Perplexity that would arife from the Thoughts of leaving
thoſe it loved, in Want: But the recollecting this, creates no new or extraordinary
Complacence in the Mind: theſe are not the Things it cares to dwell on long, or feeds
upon with Pleaſure. But the Remembrance of its Acts of Charity is that it lives upon,
that it perpetually rolls about, and that it turns to every Moment. The Tables that
have been ſpread for the Poor, the Portions that have been ſent out to the Hungry,
the Drink that has relieved the miſerable Thirfty, the Cloaths that have been made for,
and beſtowed upon the Naked; the Counſel, Vifits, and the Helps that have ſupport-
ed thoſe in Priſon; theſe Things are fed on with Delight, theſe fill the Heart with
Pleaſure and Contentment, thefe cool the Ragings of the Fever, and fupport the Weak-
neſs of Confumptions, and abate the Pains of our acute Difeafes, and make Men's
Beds in all their Sickneffes. So that there is no one thing befides, that is fo much its
own Reward in this Life, that begets a Man more Good-will, that makes more Friends,
that creates a greater Efteem, that fits Men for the Affiftance both of Strangers and the
Neighbourhood, that ftirs and provokes the Prayers of all that want, and all that ſee
and hear of it, and pulls down Bleffings from the Throne of Grace, than this kind,
benign Difpofition of doing good to the Poor; nothing that is fo faithful an Affiftant
in the Days of Sorrow, and of Sickneſs, and the Hour of Death, as the doing Acts of
Charity, and the fhewing mercy to the Needy. The very Pleafure and the Profit of
doing good, are of themſelves an Argument of mighty Force, to draw Men to the
doing of it; but when we have the Promiſes of God, the Hopes of Heaven and ever-
lafting Happineſs, propofed for our Encouragement, what is there that can fway againſt
theſe powerful Motives?
I have now done with the Text, and have ſhewed the Reaſonableneſs and the Necef-
fity, together with the Benefits of complying with its Exhortation. It remains that I
ſet before you an Example too, and then conclude.
am perfuaded, Gentlemen, that the Memory of this Lady, upon whofe Account
we now meet, is much more dear and precious in your Mind; and that I do her
greater
A Sermon preached at Chriſt-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 33
greater Honours, when I tell of her good Works of Charity that ſhe hath done, than
if I could, without thofe Works, recount abundance of her other Qualities and Titles.
It would be, methinks, but a very poor thing for me to be able to tell you, that ſhe was
defcended of great Anceſtors, and married very honourably, and had a great many
lovely Children, and kept a mighty ſumptuous Table, made moft magnificent Enter-
tainments, and wore a world of fine Jewels, and went in the richeſt Habits of her
Time, kept I don't know how many Coaches, and Liveries without Number. I am
ignorant of all, and any of theſe Particulars; but were they all true, I ſhould be no-
thing forward to recount them: I ſhould think I dealt more kindly by her Memory,
and better anſwered her Intentions in our meeting here, to ſay ſhe left a Shilling to the
Poor, nay
but a Penny to relieve fome hungry Creature. But greater was her Charity,
and greater be her Praiſes.
be her Praiſes. I am to read
A (Long and Glorious) Catalogue of the charitable Gifts of the Lady Mary Ramſey,
which are yearly paid by the Governors of Chrift's Hoſpital, out of Means which ſhe
bestowed upon it, for theſe godly Uſes.
I fhall not ſo much as ask of you the Patience of hearing it. It would affront
Goodneſs and Religion to miſtruſt it.
your
Thus it begins:
1. S. d.
To the Mafter of Peter-Houfe in Cambridge, towards the Maintenance
of Two Fellows and Four Scholars, yearly,
Towards the Maintenance of Twelve Scholars, Six in Cambridge, and Six
in Oxford, yearly,
40 00 00
40 00 00
per-
Theſe two Particulars may look perhaps to fome, rather like Works of Munificence
than Charity: If it were fo, they are full as uſeful, and full as neceffary as the other:
But indeed they are Works of great Charity, greater than you can eaſily at the firſt
ceive. There's many a very hopeful Man loft, for want of better Maintenance at
the Univerſities; for want of Means to ſubſiſt there longer than their poor Allowances
will let them; for want of Books, and other neceffary Encouragements of Study;
without which the Mind is cramped, and forced into a narrow and illiberal Way of
thinking; and all that generous, ſprightly Vigor of Soul, which might have formed
and compaſſed noble Purpoſes, finks into little trifling Aims of getting Food and Rai-
ment, and juſt living. And had there been but more fuch Benefactors to thofe Places,
like this Lady, I may venture to ſay, a great many Churches, at a Diſtance, would
be better ferved; and many who are now Objects of Pity and Reproach, might have
become the Ornaments and Honours of the Nation.
Towards the Maintenance of a Free Grammar-School at Halſtead in EL-
fex, befides Repairs, yearly,
Towards the Maintenance of a Free Writing-School in Chrift's Hofpital,
yearly,
1. s. d.
20 00 00
20 00 00 .
The Benefits of Education are too great to be quite forgotten here, and too well known
to be infifted long upon. Nature brings forth the Creature, but Education makes the
Man: We are born reasonable, but whether we ſhall reafon well or ill, depends upon
our bringing up, and upon that the whole Felicity of our Life. It is not to be expect-
ed, that whilſt we are Children, we ſhould love theſe advantageous Gifts, and praiſe
their good Defigners and Beſtowers; but it would be very hard, ungrateful, and un-
kind,
I I
34 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
1
kind, if when we are Men, and feel the Benefits, we fhould be backward to recount
theſe Works with Praife and Honour.
Towards the Curing of maimed Soldiers in the Hoſpital of St. Bartholo-
mew; yearly,
1. s. d.
10 00 00
This is truly, and moſt properly to be, with Job, eyes to the blind, and feet to the
lame. What can be nobler? What more juft? than that they who have hazarded their
Lives and Limbs for the Safety and the Honour of their Country, and brought a man-
gled Body Home, the Ruins of a Man, fhould find fome Place of Comfort to retire
to, to affwage the fmarting of their feſtering Wounds, and have Wine, or Oil, or
Balm poured on them by fome good Samaritan? She is this good Samaritan, that hath
compaffion on theſe ftript and wounded Creatures; that brings them to this Inn, and
here takes care of them. I fay, with our Saviour, to you every one, Go and do thou
likewife.
Towards the Relief of the poor Priſoners in Newgate, Ludgate, Wood-
ftreet, and the Poultry Counters; yearly,
1. s. d.
IO
10 00 00
Whatever People now-a-days may think of this Piece of Charity, as needleſs, or as
ill beſtowed, yet when the Son of man fhall come in his glory, and all the holy Angels with
him, and ſhall fit upon his throne, and before him all nations ſhall be gathered; then they
ſhall change their Mind, but change it to no purpoſe. Then fhall the King fay to them
on his right hand, Come ye bleffed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you, from
the foundation of the world: For I was an hungry, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty,
and ye gave me drink; naked, and ye cloathed me; I was fick, and ye vifited me. Prifo-
ners, alas! have all theſe Needs, and in a very great Degree, and therefore are included
certainly, but not included only, but particularly mentioned; I was in priſon, and
ye came unto me: Where by coming, muſt be meant coming to purpoſe, coming to
cheer the afflicted, comfort the diftreffed, raiſe the difconfolate, by good Advice, and
friendly Admonition; but certainly coming to relieve them in their feveral Neceffities, as
is plain from the Reaſon of the Thing it ſelf, as alfo from the Duties and good Offices
it is joined with. To thoſe who think theſe Offices of vifiting, and comforting, and
helping Priſoners, ill beftowed, and Time ill ſpent, I leave the reading of the reft of
that Chapter, Mat. xxv. from the 41ft to the 46th verfe; where they fhall meet with
that left-hand Sentence that at laft will overtake them.
}
Towards the Releafing of poor Men and Women out of the ſeveral Prifons"
in London, and Borough of Southwark; yearly,
1, s. d.
000 00
$30
This was a Wife as well as a good Lady; the knew this Gift was much more profita-
ble to the Commonwealth, than the other, and therefore trebled it. When Men's
Misfortunes have reduced them to that lamentable Place, it is great Charity to
keep them there from periſhing by Cold and Hunger; but it is greater far, to get them
out again, both to the Publick, and Particulars. The King has loft a Subject, the
Government a Hand, the Corporation, perhaps, an uſeful Member; but to be fure,
the Family has loft the Means of its Subfiftence; the Wife has loſt her Head, and the
Children a Parent and Provider; and Five or Six, perhaps, are bleft in a Releaſe, where
One alone is profited by Alms in an Impriſonment. I will not doubt but ſhe had alſo a
regard in this, to the Priſoner's fpiritual Concern, to the Benefit of his Soul alſo; for I
fear the Nature and Condition of thofe Places of Confinement, were in her Days too
like
A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 35
like to what they are in ours; the little Images of Hell, not only in their Chains and
Darkneſs, but in thoſe dreadful Oaths and Execrations, thoſe raging Blafphemies and
Prophanations of all things facred, with all the curfed Train of Lewdneffes and hor-
rid Immoralities imaginable. O! it is a fearful Uſe they make of their Afflictions:
There is many a Man, they fay, goes in both juft, and honeſt, and religious, but un-
fortunate, that comes out, or abides therein, after fome time, a Fiend incarnate, a
Devil in human Shape, prepared for every Sort of Villany; and therefore, even in this
reſpect, it is a mighty Piece of Charity, to releaſe a Prifoner betimes, to lead him out
of that Temptation, and deliver him from that Evil.
1. 5. d.
Towards the Maintenance of Ten poor aged Men, and Ten poor Widows,}60 00 00
with their Apparel, yearly,-
When Tabitha, full of good Works and Almfdeeds which ſhe did, was dead, and
Peter was ſent for to her, the Widows ſtood by him weeping, and fhewing him the
Coats that Dorcas made, whilft fhe was with them. Theſe Widows were themſelves
the living Monuments of Dorcas's Charity, and thought the Coats and Garments ſhe
had made, and ordered to be made for them, and other Poor, the moſt prevailing Ar-
gument to move the Apoſtle to Compaffion, and the moſt honourable Mention they
could make of their deceaſed Miſtreſs; and fo indeed it was. It was neceffary in
thoſe Days to magnify the Power of Chriſt in his Apoſtles, and to confirm the Truth
of his Doctrines by Miracles, and therefore Tabitha muſt be raiſed from the Dead.
We cannot raiſe this Tabitha from the Dead: We are not the Apoſtles Succeffors in
Miracles and mighty Works, but only in the ordinary ſtanding Miniſtration of the
Word and Sacraments: But we can tell you, She ſhall live for ever; this is the Way
to Heaven, and this the Gate of Righteouſneſs, by which, through Faith in Chriſt,
and by the Grace of God, fhe made her Paffage to eternal Happineſs, and God fhall
raiſe her up glorious and immortal, to live and reign with him for ever. Nor fhall
her Memory fail on Earth; you living Monuments, Succeffion of her Charity, ſhall
raiſe her from the dead in all Mens Praiſes and Eſteem, and you ſhall cauſe this righ-
teous One to be had in everlaſting Remembrance.
Towards the Relief of the Parish of Chrift-Church, yearly,
To the Poor of the Parish of St. Peter's Poor, yearly,
To the Poor of St. Mary Wolnoth's, yearly,
To the Poor of St. Andrew Underſhaft, yearly,
l. s. d.
02 10 00
04 00 00
03 00 00
03 00 00
I hope fome of you
will think theſe are ſmall Sums, and that the Neceffities of the
Poor require and call for greater: they do ſo, and when you have thanked and praiſed
God for this Lady's Gifts, then add your own, and make up what is wanting.
For two Sermons to be preached, yearly,
1. s. d.
-02 00 00
It will not become me here to fay much to this. I have already faid ſomething in
explaining the Text, which it ſeems the deceaſed Lady both underſtood and practi-
fed.
1. s. d.
Paid more by the ſaid Governors out of the Means by her given this Year,} 80 00 00
above
The total Sum paid yearly by the faid Governors,
324 10 00
I have
36 A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690.
I have now done with this good Catalogue: I wiſh it would have held, at this rate,
an Hour longer. I have read it by Defire, and in Courſe, according to the Cuſtom,
on this Day, on which the Church celebrates the Martyrdom of Stephen, whoſe ſtand-
ing Office was the Miniſtration of Charity, and providing for the Poor. But, I hope,
you do not come here to hear it only in Courſe and Cuſtom. There is no body can
think a Lady of ſuch Goodneſs could be fo vain, as to appoint two Sermons, purely to
get a Crowd of People round, to tell the Charities, and fing the Praiſes of her. No,
there was Charity defigned by that, but it was Charity to thoſe that ſhould be Hearers.
She was in hopes that her Example would excite fome others to the fame good Works,
for Examples are of mighty Force; we fee too much of it in bad ones, and furely the
good may have fome Influence. She was in hopes, that fomething might be faid, by
Chance, or by Deſign, that might awaken ſome to the Exerciſe of that good Grace,
which all Men think ſo excellent and neceffary, and all Men like fo well in others. Do
not then defeat fuch good and reaſonable Hopes; but if what I have ſaid ſhall nothing
move you, yet let her great Example ſpeak, and ſpeak to purpoſe. Order the matter
fo, that this laſt Gift may be as well beſtowed as any of the reft, according to her
good Intentions, which cannot be, without your Imitation of her in ſome kind or
other. Take home this Catalogue with you, and try to copy after it. You will hard-
find a wifer. It will become your Wills and Teftaments much better, than a great
many Items that are there. You give your Souls in your Imprimis, generally, to a very
good Place, but you take no care to provide good Works to help them thither: You
beſtow your Bodies very decently, commonly, but fome of thefe Particulars would
make them ſmell much fweeter, and ſend out a more fragrant Odour.
We could ftrew much fweeter, and much finer Flowers upon the Dead, if their
Wills were better filled than cornmonly they are; if they would take ſome care, to have
fomething of Religion in them more than bare Words. How can the Rich and Weal-
thy of this World, begin their Teftaments fo folemnly, In the name of God, and ne-
ver think upon
him afterwards? How can a Chriſtian Man beſtow a hundred thouſand
Pounds upon
his Son, upon his Nephew, or the Lord knows who, and little or no-
thing on the Poor? The Wife must be left with a mighty Jointure, all her Jewels,
Plate, and Abundance of ready Money, by which ſhe learns to forget him fooner, and
becomes the eaſier Prey. The Daughter muft have a prodigious Fortune, that ſhe
may fall into the Hands of luftful Villains, and make it worth their while to venture
upon Violence, and Death; or elſe be married purely for her Money, and be for ever
miferable. The Son muſt have wherewithal to reproach his Father's Meannefs and Fru-
gality, and make him aſhamed to own his Lineage and Deſcent; but enough be fure,
to ſpoil his Care and Induſtry, and enough too frequently to make him die a Beggar.
And if theſe are wanting, the Nephew muſt have all, that the Parent (no, the Uncle)
may not be faid to have taken all thoſe Pains, and made himſelf a Slave, and miſera-
ble, for nothing, without an Heir to leave it to. For what a lamentable Thing
would that be to the poor Man's Aſhes, if it ſhould not be faid by the Neighbourhood,
that fuch a one left his Nephew forty, fifty, or a hundred thousand Pounds, although he
neither wanted nor deſerved it; but nothing to the Poor, though they did both? There
muſt be Families, I know, and must be Diftinctions, and there must be Provifion
made for all theſe Particulars; but the Poor must not be fo forgotten as they are; they
muſt come in for a Share, or all the reft will want its Bleffing. And do not you think
it is much fafer, and much better, to fecure the main, by beſtowing a little well? Be-
lieve it, Gentlemen, you are not fo much Mafters, and abfolute Lords of your Eftates
and Wealth, as Stewards of God's Houfhold: Now Stewards must be found faithful, as
St. Paul ſays, and muſt diſpenſe theſe Goods according to their Maſter's Will, which he
hath oft expreffed, ſhall be, in Part, among his poor and needy Servants; and then I
leave the Application to your felves.
Remem-
A Sermon preached at Chrift-Church on St. Stephen's Day, 1690. 37
Remember (to conclude) that our doing Acts of Charity, is neceffary; remember
that the Time of doing them is fhort, but the Reward of them when done eternal.
We cannot fow long, but we ſhall reap the Fruits of it for ever; we cannot always do
good Acts of Charity, but we ſhall always be receiving everlaſting Recompences. For
the beſtowing of a little fading Riches here, we ſhall lay up Riches in Abundance for
the Time to come; we ſhall exchange the Treaſures that are here ſubject to a thouſand
Chances, for thoſe in Heaven, fecure in God's Hand; for the Want of a little Conveni-
ence, or fome Superfluities of Life, we ſhall be ſatisfied with more than we can aſk or
think of. I will end all with the Charge of St. Paul to Timothy, 1 Ep. vi. 17.—and in
Timothy to me, and all the Miniſters of God's Word, Charge themand in Obe-
dience to that Saint's Command, 1 Cor. iv. 2. -I do charge them that are rich in this
world, that they be ready to give, and glad to diſtribute, laying up in ftore for themſelves
(fure you like that) a good foundation against the time to come, that they may attain eter-
nal life. Which God of his Infinite Mercy bring us all to, for Chrift's Sake, who for
our Sakes became poor, that we through him might be made rich. To whom, &c.
I
I K
A SER-
28
A
SERMON
Preached before the Right Honourable the Lord
Mayor and Court of Aldermen, at St. Mary-le-
Bow, on Friday the 11th of April, 1692. being
the Faſt-Day.
2 SAM. x. 12.
Be of good courage, and let us play the men for our people, and for the
cities of our God: And the Lord do that which feemeth him good.
W
HEN Joab had ſet his Army in Array againſt the Syrians, and had given
his Orders to Abishai to do the like, with thofe under his Command,
againſt the Ammonites, and mutually engaged the Affiftance of each other
on Occafion, in the 11th Verfe; he prepares both himſelf, his Brother,
and the Army for the Fight, with this ſhort Speech in the Text, Be of good courage,
&c. In which Words we have theſe three Things to confider: First, The Exhortati-
on of the General, Be of good courage, and let us play the men. Secondly, The Occa-
fion and Neceffity there was of doing fo; the Concern they had at Stake was very
great; it was, For their people, and for the cities of their God. Thirdly, The Refigna-
tion and Submiffion of the Iffue and Event to God's good Pleaſure and Diſpoſal; And
the Lord do that which feemeth him good. Of theſe I intend to ſpeak in the firſt place;
and in the ſecond, make what Application may be proper. And,
The Safe-
First, Of the Exhortation; Be of good courage, and let us play the men.
ty and Succefs of an Army does, in great meaſure, depend upon the Concord and A-
greement of Commanders, and the good Underſtanding there is betwixt them; and
Joab prudently confidering this, left the unequal Diviſion of the Bands ſhould offend
Abishai, [for whether the Syrians were indeed the better Soldiers, and more formida-
ble Enemies; or whether the Ammonites were ſuppoſed by Joab to be weakned by their
Guilt, (as a few might well furmiſe) being the Authors and Occafion of this War, by
having villainouſly treated David's Ambaffadors; and therefore, that the weakeft Men
of Ifrael would be a Match for them; or whatever was the Occafion of Joab's taking
all the chofen Men to ferve under him,] he makes his Agreement before-hand with him,
to come and fuccour him, if he ſhould find himſelf diftreffed, and requires the like of
him again. But becauſe the People bear too great a Share, either in Rout or Victory,
to be overlooked, he does, as wife and valiant Captains always uſed to do, addreſs him-
felf to the Army likewiſe, in the ufual Words of Exhortation, Be of good courage,
and let us play the men. Be of good courage,- faid Mofes, to the Men he fent out to ex-
plore the Land of Canaan, Numb. xiii. 20. Be ftrong and of a good courage, faid the
fame Mofes both to Joshua and the Ifraelites, when he was about to leave them to en-
counter with their Enemies, Deut. xxxi. 6, 7. Be ſtrong and very courageous be not
afraid, neither be thou difmayed, faid God himſelf to Joshua entring upon his Com-
mand, Joſh. i. 6, 7, 9. Be strong and of good courage, faid this Joshua too, to the
Ifraelites,
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
29
Ifraelites, x. 25. And fo faid David to his Son Solomon, 1 Chron. xxii. 13. Chap.
xxviii. 20. And ſo ſaid Ezra to the Jews, x. 4. Which does not only fhew, that
no Attempt of any Moment or Importance, of our own Contrivance or Deſign, can
be hopefully undertaken by us, without the exerting thus our Strength and Courage to
the utmoſt; but that it is alſo neceffary fo to do, even in Enterprizes begun by God's
fpecial Order and Command, and where the Undertakers were his peculiar Favourites,
as is obfervable in all the above-mentioned Inſtances. There is nothing fo fure, as that
where the Heart is faint, the Hands are feeble and hang down; the one does ftrange-
ly influence the other: Men are commonly ftrong or weak, according to their Cou-
rage, not their Nerves and Sinews; they are almoſt whatever they defire to be; and
Power dwells near the Will, as well as near Neceffity. Some by this Heart and Cou-
rage have atchieved fuch great and marvellous Things, as few but they who are alike
inſpired, and heated with their Fire, can eafily fancy or believe, more than indeed
themſelves could at firſt propoſe; or in their fober, cautious, reaſoning Mood could
hope for. Others, for want of this, have loft their lucky Opportunities, and blafted
many a fair and hopeful Enterprize, when every thing, befides themſelves, confpired
to crown them with Succefs and Honour. Many, whoſe Hearts have robbed their
Heads of their triumphant Wreaths, and loaden both themſelves, and (which is more
to be lamented) others, both with Chains and Infamy, that with a little of this gene-
rous Warmth, a little ſhaking off their Fear and Sluggiſhneſs, were fitted to be Con-
querors, and happy. And therefore, there is great Neceffity in all Attempts of Weight,
of raifing up
the Heart, and calling all the vigorous active Spirits up to our Affiftance;
and not of this alone, but of provoking others with our Exhortations and Incitements,
to be of good courage alfo. There is a noble Emulation in the Souls of moft, which
oft lies dormant for a while, until it be awakened by Example, or Upbraiding, or En-
couragement; till either Praiſe or Shame diſcover what they can, as well as what they
fhould do. And this is moſt remarkable in War; where many times a quick Oration,
or a brave Example of fome one or few Particulars, has given fuch Life and Strength
to the whole Army, that from a fearful and inglorious Flight, they have returned to
Victory and Spoil, and bravely have defaced and croft the Footſteps of their Shame:
And on the other hand, fome have been quite intimidated into Rout and great Diſor-
der, by the Deſpondency of fome great Officers, and cowardous Example of their Fel-
lows, whoſe Fear did perfectly infect their Neighbours. So that in all Attempts of
Moment, it is not only neceffary to quicken and animate ourſelves, and raiſe our Hearts
as high as can be; but to give Life and Soul to others alfo, and to take what Care and
Pains we can, that they, as well as we, may be of good courage. The other Part of
the Exhortation is, Let us play the men; which is but the fame thing expreffed in other
Words. Be strong, and quit yourſelves like men, and fight, ſaid the Philistines to each
other, 1 Sam. iv. 9. Be strong therefore, and shew thyself a man, faid David dying, to
his Son, 1 Kings ii. 2. And ſo faith St. Paul in the Cafe of ſpiritual Warfare, 1 Cor.
xvi. 13. Quit yourſelves like men, and be strong; ufing the very Words by which the
LXX. have tranflated the Exhortation in the Text, avdicede & Negrad. And where
this Hiſtory is again repeated, in 1 Chron. xix. 18. it is
I
Let us behave ourſelves va-
liantly, inſtead of, Let us play the men; the one importing and fuppofing the other.
And this the Heathens underſtood of old, when they began their Exhortations to the
Fight with 'Avéges ise píno, and Fite Viri, &c. Do but remember you are Men, and
act accordingly; imagining that they who would but think upon themſelves, would ne-
ver do a Thing unworthy of their Nature, and the noble Name by which they were cal-
led. They looked upon the Name of Man as a Prefervative and powerful Charm againſt
both Treachery and Cowardiſe; a perfect Contradiction to whatever is eſteemed vile
and infamous, and comprehending every thing that is great, and brave, and honourable.
But
40
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
But left the Confideration of the Excellence and Dignity of human Nature ſhould not
of itſelf balance the Love of Life and Fear of Death, the general and prevailing Paffions of
Men's Hearts; there are alfo added, in the Second Place, The Motives and Incitements
to the ſhewing forth this Courage, fome Reafons and Inducements why they ought to
quit themſelves like Men; it was not for themſelves alone they were to fight, but for
their people, and the cities of their God. By People, we are to underſtand all that were
left behind at home, all the Relations and Dependants that they had, their Fathers, Mo-
thers, Wives and Children, Friends and Servants; and all the Civil and Judicial Laws,
the Ties and Bonds that make a People, and diftinguiſh them each from the other; for
all theſe are implied in the Word People; and when Men fight for their People, they
virtually fight for all thefe, becauſe that theſe are all in Danger to be loft by being con-
quered. And by the Cities of God, we are to underſtand not only their particular Ci-
ties, but all the Villages and Country, and all their Eſtates and Habitations, all their
Subſiſtance, and their Livelihood; becauſe whoever maſters the Cities of a Country, is
preſumed to be Maſter of all befides; the one does naturally take in all the other; it
muſt be ſo in Reaſon, and we ſee it is fo by Experience. But becauſe theſe Cities are
alfo Cities of God, we may very well imagine their Religion alfo is included in thoſe
Terms: For whatever Grace and Favour God is faid, in many Paffages of Scripture,
to fhew to Ifrael, and Jerufalem, and Sion, to love her Buildings and her Towers,
and to take delight in her Palaces, with the like, we may be fure it is for the Sake of
his Laws and Worship therein: In Jewry is God known, and his name is great in Ifrael;
at Salem is his tabernacle, and his dwelling in Sion. And this is the Foundation of his
Love. He fheweth his word unto Jacob, his ftatutes and ordinances unto Ifrael: He hath
not dealt fo with any nation, neither have the heathen knowledge of his laws. Pfalm cxlvii.
19. Here was the Habitation of his Houſe, and the Place where his Honour dwelt
and it was on this Account that it was called the Holy City, and the Holy Place: and it
is in this reſpect (making Allowance for a greater Holineſs and greater Favours) that
the Church of Chrift is called, The City of the Lord, Ifa. lx. 14. Mount Zion, and the
City of our God, in Heb. xii. 22. And the ſame in Revelations is faid of Heaven itſelf,
iii. 12. So that by Cities of God, we are not to underſtand only the Walls and Houſes,
but the Worſhip and Religion of thofe Places. And then, To be of good courage, and
play the men for their People, and for the cities of their God, is neither more nor leſs, than
to fight and do valiantly for their Lives, and Laws, and Fortunes, and Religion; the
fame which the Ancients called fighting pro Aris & Focis. This Place would give
me Opportunity of ſaying ſomething in Defence of War in general, and in the Juſtifi-
cation of each of theſe particular Occafions; but the Confideration of theſe Matters at
large would lead me too far, and hold me too long; it may be more convenient to take
the Matter, as it is in the Text, for granted, as Joab did undoubtedly, concluding the
Defence of his Country and Religion a very juſtifiable Ground of War; eſpecially if
we remember withal, that this their behaving themselves valiantly for their people, and
for the cities of their God, was notwithſtanding, an offenfive War on Ifrael's Side, inva-
ding Ammon for their vile, unmanly Ufage of the King's Ambaffadors. And if fuch
infolent injurious Dealing with Ambaſſadors be (as it always was accounted by the
World in general) a juft Occaſion for a War offenfive, we may conclude fafely enough,
That the Defence of Lives, and Laws, and Fortunes, and Religion, are each of them
fufficient Warrant for the drawing of the Sword. And though in private Caſes, the
Principles of Chriſtianity are very peaceable and tender, and regardful of Men's Wel-
fare in this World as well as the other, and lay greater Reſtraint on Peoples Inclinations
to Contention and Diſturbance than any other Laws whatever, and would, perhaps, if
heedfully attended and obeyed, prevent moſt Wars; yet where Men will not hearken
to good Reaſon, nor the Chriſtian Doctrines, where there is no Redreſs of Injuries to
be
on a Publick Fast, 1692.
41
*
be expected from the Laws (as in national Affronts and Wrongs there cannot be) where
the contending Parties will admit of no Arbitrator betwixt them, whofe Sentence ſhall
be decifive, and from whom there ſhall be no Appeal; there certainly the Sword of
War becomes neceffary, there Chrift hath left the Publick to confult its Welfare and
Defence, and to purfue its Peace and Safety by fuch Methods as are proper, juſt, and
honourable. He hath left no Rule in theſe Extremities for the Publick to govern itſelf
by, but neither hath he barred it fuch Defence as the common Reaſon of Mankind
fuggefts in all fuch Cafes. He hath not indeed commanded War; but neither hath he
fo forbidden it, as that it ſhould not be both juſt and lawful, when it is abfolutely ne-
ceffary. And abfolutely neceffary to be fure it is, when either Lives, or Laws, or For-
tunes, or Religion, are at Stake, and cannot otherwiſe be well preſerved. What End
and Purpoſe of Religion can be ſerved, by letting fifty, fixty, or an hundred thouſand
People be killed, for the enlarging fuch a one's Dominion, or for the enriching fo
many Plunderers with the Booty? What Tendency has fuch a Slaughter to the pro-
moting of either Piety or Virtue? And therefore to think that Chriſtianity commands
fuch Patience, Sufferance, or fuch Cowardife as this, is to think it not only a very
weak Religion, but a Religion countenancing and encouraging Oppreffion, Infolence,
and Violence, and Cruelty, and Blood; for this would naturally happen, thro' the Infi-
delity of fuch as are not Chriſtians, and the Malice and Perverſeneſs of ſuch as are very
bad ones. What Uſe would fuch a People as the Tartars are, make of fuch a Doctrine, as
the Unlawfulness of War among the Chriftians? One might juftly fay, that fuch a Do-
Atrine would be the Occafion and Cauſe of all the Ravages and barbarous Devaſtations,
of all the Rapes and Murthers fuch a People would commit. And to ſay that Chri-
ſtianity encourages to fo much Evil, is to give it an abominable Character; and yet
they fay as much, who ſay that War is abfolutely forbidden to Chriſtians; for were it
fo indeed, both Infidels and wicked Chriſtians would commit a thouſand greater Evils
than they daily do; and how far Chriſtianity would be chargeable with them, by ſuch
a natural Provocation and Encouragement, as the difarming Chriſtians were, is not
hard to determine. It is but a poor Defence to fay, I did not kill Caius, nor provoke
Sempronius to his Murther; but only took
but only took away his Sword and Weapons of Defence,
and left him to the Fury of his Adverfary, who only watched for fuch an Opportuni-
ty. The Caſe of private People's fuffering Injuries without Retaliation, is much ano-
ther Thing than this of publick War; though even in that, the Redreſs of Law is by
no means abſolutely forbidden; and the Permiffion of Redreſs by Law for private In-
juries, is not fo different from Permiffion of Redreſs by War for publick Wrongs, as
People commonly imagine: the Reafons differ not in Kind, but in Degree. And if
Martyrdom itſelf, i. e. the fuffering Death for the Sake of Chrift and of the Goſpel,
be not fo commanded, but that it may and is to be avoided, where the Honour of
God and of the Chriftian Name can be fecured without it; we may be fure, the fuf-
fering Death, and other Evils, where neither God's Honour, nor the Truth of the
Goſpel, nor any End of Chriſtianity is ferved, is not commanded us, and confequent-
ly that War is not forbidden by the Chriſtian Law. But leaving theſe Diſputes, and
taking it for granted, that every one of thefe Occafions of War is juft and lawful; the
Text ſuppoſes that they are every one of them good Motives and Encouragements to
Men to behave themſelves valiantly in the Fight; Let us be of good courage, and let us
play the men, for our people, and for the cities of our God; which, as I tried to fhew,
implied our Lives and Laws, our Eſtates and our Religion.
That People's Lives are worth contending for, need not be proved, for every one's
own is almoſt worth a War to him; but when the Lives of all his Civil and his Na-
tural Relations too are equally concerned, then not to venture bravely for them, is to
I L
prove
¡
42
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
!
prove his Life indeed was hardly worth the Living; a Life that well deferved to be
caft away. And what can be faid of Men who in fuch Extremities will tamely yield,
but that they act at once the Fool and Madman, and die indeed for Fear of Death?
There is little Hope, that the Prefervation of the Laws and Liberties of a Nation
ſhould prevail with thofe, whom the Confideration of their own, and others Lives,
cannot incite to Courage, and incline to behave themſelves like Men; but however,
this has all along been efteemed, of all brave People, a Confideration of the laft
Importance; and they have freely ventured the one in behalf of the other, account-
ing Life itſelf a Burthen, when they loft the other. There is fomething in the
Frame and Conftitution of each Government, fo fitted and peculiar to the Genius
and the Tempers of a People, that it is not to be altered by violent Confpirators at
home, nor by a foreign Enemy, without the greateſt Inconveniencies, and the moſt
fearful Confequences poffible; and the Laws of each particular Nation confult-
ing moſt eſpecially the Benefit and Welfare of their own Subjects, it is no won-
der if they are tenacious of this Kind of Government, and of thefe Laws, and
find it worth their while to refift unto Blood in their Defence and Maintenance.
It is the Properneſs and the Fitneſs of theſe Laws to the Country and the Subject, that
gives each People the Happineſs they have; and fince it is impoffible for a Nation to be
abfolutely conquered, without breaking the Laws and Conftitutions of its Govern-
ment, and bringing others in, more beneficial to the Conqueror and his Country, and
confequently prejudicial to the conquered, there is nothing in this World that better
deferves to be defended to the utmoſt of Men's Power, than the Continuance of their
Laws and Government: And this the rather, becauſe the overturning of the Laws,
does alſo overthrow Men's Fortunes and Eftates, without which Men would live but
hardly and uncomfortably; and that is the leaſt, and one of the moſt gentle Effects
of being conquered by a ravaging and greedy Enemy; the being reduced to Mifery,
and the greateſt Evils of Want and Slavery, is an inſeparable Companion of being over-
come; the Hope of Prey and Spoil is the Life and Soul of an Army, and the Fear of it
ſhould alſo prove as ſtrong a Spur to Valour, to defend one's felf againſt it. That Religion
(Laftly) fuffers conftantly in War, is very certain, and as certain that the Prefervation of it,
in its Purity and Truth, is as worthy an Employment of Men's Strength and Couragé,
as any other Cauſe whatever. Cum loca capta funt ab hoftibus, omnia definunt effe facra,
was a Maxim of old. When once a Place is taken by the Enemy, there is no farther
Difference made betwixt Things facred and prophane. Wars and Victories (faith Ter-
tullian, Apol. c. 25.) are made up of Cities taken and overthrown, which cannot be
without offending the Gods; the military Fury at the fame time indifferently aſſaulting
the City Walls and Temples; Slaughters involving Priests and Citizens, without Diftin-
Etion; and the Soldier, greedy of his Prey, no more regards Things facred than prophane
So many Conquests, fo many Sacrileges; fo many Triumphs over Nations, fo many Tri-
umphs too over the Gods. And this was looked upon fo certain, that the Greeks
eſteemed it as a Law and Rule, That whoever conquered the Country, conquered the
Religion of it alſo; and they did accordingly furrender both together: And upon this
account it was, that all the ancient Generals, in their Speeches to their Armies, con-
ftantly reminded them of their Religion, Gods, and Altars, left at home, as well as
Wives and Children, which were fure to be the Prey and Plunder of their Conquerors;
and thought at the fame time, that if the Love and Fear, and the Regard they had
to them, would not excite their utmoft Courage, nothing elfe could do it. Whether
it be lawful to carry War into another Country for the Vindication of God's Honour,
which we think is injured and affronted by the barbarous or ridiculous Worſhip of that
Country, and for the Propagation of the true Religion, is what may bear fome ſhort
Diſpute, perhaps; but the Conclufion will in all likelihood be, That it is not lawful,
fince
on a Publick Fast, 1692.
43
fince God is his own beft Avenger, and can vindicate his Honour, and promote his
Truth, in Times, and Ways, and Methods, as he fees convenient, without the Help
of Man; which he, in fuch Cafes, requires not. But whether it be lawful to car-
ry War into another Country, for the Defence and Preſervation of the true Religion,
which is otherwife in Danger and great Likelihood of being ruined and deftroyed
at home, will bear no manner of Difpute; becauſe if it be lawful to be defend-
ed at home, (as all Men muſt allow) it will be alfo juft to be defended abroad;
for the carrying the War into another Country, is only to avoid thofe Evils we
muft otherwiſe neceffarily endure, if we ſhould fuffer our Enemies to bring the War
home to us: And this makes no Alteration of the Juftice of the War at all; for the
Cauſe of that is ſtill the fame, whether we fight abroad, or defend our felves at home;
and Men chuſe the one or the other, according to their Strength, and the Situation of
their Country, and for a great many other natural or accidental Reaſons. But whether
it be lawful to carry War into another's Country, even an invaſive War, in the Defence
not only of the true Religion, but of the Profeffors of that true Religion, though ano-
ther's Subjects, has born Diſpute a great while. The Example of Conftantine the
Great's invading of Licinius for the Chriftians Sake, the Subjects of Licinius, might
(with the Approbation of the Chriftians at that Time) ſerve in fome Meaſure, one would
think, to determine this Matter in behalf of the Lawfulneſs of ſo doing. Conftantine
and Licinius had ſhared the Empire betwixt them, and were confequently independent
each of them upon his Fellow; each was Auguftus, and each of them had made his
Son Cæfar; and the Subjects of theſe Princes owed no Manner of Obedience, but to
each their Maſter. The Emperors had each of them decreed at Milan,* That the
Chriſtian Religion fhould be tolerated through the Empire; but Licinius afterwards
ſuffering himſelf to be perfuaded otherwiſe, betook himſelf, by all the Arts and Me-
thods he was Mafter of, to break this Edict; and fearing the Zeal and Power of Con-
ftantine, was forced to practiſe ſecretly and cunningly at firſt the Overthrow of Chriſti-
anity; not appearing in the Thing himſelf, but acting by his Prefidents and Governors,
who made their Court to him by fuch Compliance with his cruel Purpoſes, well know-
ing they could recommend themſelves no Way fo effectually, as by fulfilling his De-
fires, without expecting his Commands: But in a little time, this Modeſty or Fear was
overcome, (ſuch zealous Superftition is impatient of Reſtraint) and he began to open
his Deſigns with falling firſt upon the Biſhops, (all Perfecutions ever did the fame; the
very Heathens knew, as well as did the Chriftians, that the Church of Chrift could
never be undone without their Ruin; and therefore took the readieſt Way, by fal-
ling upon them at firſt ;) next he diſmiſſed the Chriſtians from all Employments at
Court, cafhiered them from the Army, and turned them out of every Office; then
feized on their Eſtates, and fell at last upon the Clergy, killing fome Biſhops for pray-
ing for Conftantine. Thus he continued perfecuting for ſome good Time, defigning
nothing less than the utter Subverfion of Chriſtianity; which Eufebius † (who lived
at the fame Time) fays, He had undoubtedly effected, had not God, the Protector
of his People, prevented it, by raiſing up his Servant Conftantine, and leading him as
it were by the Hand to their Deliverance; who, after having exerciſed more Patience
than was neceffary with this brutal Prince, and all to no purpoſe, made ready at laſt
to fuccour theſe diſtreffed Sufferers, concluding it a holy and religious Thing to remove
one Man, and fave thereby a Multitude of People. In truth, Eufebius tells this Story
in fuch Manner, that one might reaſonably think, the Chriſtians of Licinius's Empire
fent to Conftantine for fome Relief; and there are fome Phraſes that would incline one
to gueſs fo: But there is no Occafion of going any farther than we are fure; and
that
* Eufeb. Eccl. Hift. lib. x. cap. 5.
+ Eccl. Hift. cap. 8, 9. & de Vit. Conft. lib. 11. cap, 2, &c.
44
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
that is, That Conftantine did certainly make the Sufferings of the Chriſtians one
of his Pretexts of War at this Time; and that the Expedition was fo well li-
ked, that many * Clergymen attended him as Chaplains; and he thought, if
ever he had need of Prayers, it was now, and took them accordingly with him very
gladly. And, laſtly, That the whole Church, as well the Weſtern as the Eaſtern one,
rejoiced exceedingly at the Deliverance God was pleaſed to work by him, and expref-
ſed it in all the Demonſtrations poffible of Love, and Gratitude, and Honour; and
with one Accord fubmitted to him, as the great and glorious Inftrument of God's
Mercy and Goodneſs towards them, and filled the World with his Commendations:
And of this mutual Satisfaction in each other, the great and many endearing Kind-
neſſes and Compliments that paffed between the Emperor and the Council of Nice,
are ſo many ample Teſtimonies, though they were moſt of them Licinius's Subjects,
and the Council was called but a Year after his Defeat, 325. This Approbation of
the ancient Chriſtians of this Act of Conftantine, might ſerve, I ſay, to fhew that
they eſteemed it not only juſt and lawful, but honourable and religious, to carry War
into another's Country for the Defence of the true Religion, and the Preſervation of
the Lives and Liberties of its Profeffors, which had been otherwiſe in danger of be-
ing quite loft: For the Victor neither made Pretence of propagating the true Religi-
on, nor forcing People to forfake the falfe one by the Sword; but only of fecuring
and defending them who were before Chriftians. And the whole Conduct of our
Queen Elizabeth, (one of the beſt and happieſt Princes that we ever had, and one
who loved and beſt confulted both the Honour and the Welfare of our Nation) her
whole Conduct, I fay, with respect to all the Proteftants abroad, approved of and re-
warded both by Parliaments and Convocations, might make this Cafe a little more de-
fenfible, than it is commonly held to be by a great many People. Theſe Princes (and
a great many others) did not only think themſelves obliged to be of good courage, and
behave themſelves valiantly, for their own people, and for the cities of their God at
home; but made the Cities of God extend to all Places where the fame God was wor-
ſhipped in the like Purity, Simplicity and Truth. They went indeed farther than Jo-
ab here did, becauſe he had no Occaſion to go farther; but his Principles would have
carried him to the Defence of the Cities of God, if they had been either in Ammon's
or in Syria's Territories; and we need not queſtion, but he would have made the Re-
ſcue and Deliverance of their perfecuted Brethren, a quickning Motive and Encou-
ragement to the behaving themſelves valiantly, and quitting themſelves like Men.
The laſt Thing we have to confider in Joab's Conduct, is, his Refignation and Sub-
miffion of the Iffue and Event to God's good Pleaſure and Difpofal; and the Lord do
that which feemeth him good. He had made what Preparations he could, or thought
convenient to his Purpoſe; he had gathered a great Army, and felected all or moſt of
the choſen Men to oppoſe to the Syrians, and committed the reft to Abiſhai's Ma-
nagement, to order as he ſaw Neceffity againſt the Ammonites; and had agreed to do
what was fit in caſe of each other's Exigence, and he had made his final Speech to all
of them; and done, in a word, all that a wife and valiant General had to do, and
then commits the Event to God. It is in vain to think of doing any thing well with-
out God; but it is as vain to think that God will do any thing without us, that lies in
our Power to do. God is, in all our Wants, our Help and Succour; but not unleſs
we will co-operate with him, and join our Forces to thoſe which he affords us: He is
indeed the beſt Ally that can be; but he will never fight our Battels by himſelf,
whilſt we ftand idle by, and unconcerned: He is indeed the Author and Beſtower
of every good and perfect Gift; but he beſtows them all upon our Induſtry and Vigi-
lance; he makes his Bleffings ſtill the Recompences of our Care and Labour; he gives
Succefs
* Valefius calls them Bishops.
on a Publick Fast, 1692.
45
;
Succefs, and Wealth, and Honour, and Wiſdom; but he gives them to us by our
felves, and gives them to our Diligence and Induſtry, to Labour and much Study; he
gives us Virtues, but it is by Pains and Habits; he gives us many Graces, but it is by
frequent Exerciſes and good Ufes of them; it is in vain to ask him any thing we can
beſtow upon ourſelves; for that is the Way he has already taken to beſtow it on us;
it is but mocking God, to beg of him what we think not worth our while or labour
to obtain. By Vigilance, Activity, and looking wifely after Things, they all
go well
but when you give yourself to Sloth, and Laziness, and Cowardife, you shall in vain im-
plore the Affiftance of the Gods; for they are angry and incenfed with fuch, faid a Hea-
then* of old of his fictitious Deities; and we may fay as much of ours, the true
and only everlaſting God: For although we are commanded to pray to God for our
daily Bread, yet we muſt work for it, if we will have it; and St. Paul concludes we
ſhall make ourſelves unworthy of it, if we will not. We must indeed caft all our
Care on God, and truft to his good Providence, and be over-anxious for nothing at
all; but we muſt not ſo truſt him, as to tempt him, by neglecting the Means which
he hath put within our Power; we muſt do what we can for ourſelves in every Caſe,
and pray to God to bleſs and proſper our Endeavours, to make thoſe Means effectual
to the attaining of their End, and to fupply, by his abundant Goodneſs, what is
wanting: And when we have done all we can, all that is fit for us to do, we muſt
refign up all to God, and try to be contented with the Iffue he ſhall give to our At-
tempts, let it be what it will; and fay with Joab, The Lord do that which feemeth him
good. By this we acknowledge both his Being and his Providence; by this we own
him for the fupreme Governor and Arbiter of all Affairs; that he both overlooks and
over-rules them all; that we put no Truft or Confidence in our Strength or Skill alone,
without his Bleffing; that all our Cunning and Abilities are but his Inftruments, and
the Means by which he brings to pafs his glorious Purpoſes; that the Preparations we
make, are neither made in Oftentation of our Strength and Excellence, nor in Doubt
or Diſtruſt of his Almighty Power, nor in Defiance of it, to be fure; but that we
do therein, as reaſonable Creatures ought to do, make fuch Provifion, as that Reaſon
fays we ſhould, and fuch as is proportioned out to our Abilities and our Neceffities;
but know withal, that they will fignify nothing without his Pleaſure and Permiffion;
that all our Expectations and Defires are, That theſe our reaſonable and natural Means
may attain the End for which they are provided; but ſtill with this Suppofal, that it
is agreeable to him; ftill it muſt be, As it feemeth good to him. But this is not all we
do not only by this Refignation and Submiffion own him for the Mafter and Difpo-
fer of all Events, but we prepare ourſelves thereby againſt them; let the Iffue be what
it will, we are thereby fitted for it: If it be profperous, and as we wiſh it, we know
it is, nevertheleſs, an Effect of God's Kindneſs towards us, although we were our-
felves the Inftruments of working it; and we have then this Satisfaction, that God co-
operates with our Deſigns, and bleffes our Endeavours. They who have perfect Con-
fidence in God's Goodneſs, and are perfectly refigned themſelves to his Diſpoſal, have
every Bleffing doubled that befals them; they have all the Happineſs that the Bleffing
of itſelf can naturally afford, to be fure; but then the Thoughts of having it from
God, of confidering it as an Effect of his peculiar Favour and Benignity, that it is the
Difpofal of unerring Wiſdom; theſe Thoughts advance the Bleffing to a mighty
Height, and make it dear and valuable indeed: If it be croſs, and other than we wiſh-
ed and hoped for, yet this Refignation to the Will of God makes it go down a great
deal better; it puts us upon thinking it was neither neceffary nor convenient for us,
fince it was denied by him, who gives to thoſe who truft entirely to him, not only
I M
more,
* Saluft.
46
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
inore, but better Things than they can ask or think themſelves; or elſe it drives us to
confider with ourſelves what we have done that called for and deferved ſuch Puniſh-
ment, and conſequently gains the End of every one of God's Inflictions, namely,
Self-examination and Amendment; it never drives us from, but towards God; and
makes us fee his Mercy in his Juſtice, his Goodneſs in our Puniſhments. But (ab-
ftracting the Confideration of our Sins being the Cauſe of our Miſcarriages, as they
are not always fo) when we know we have done all that we ſhould and could do; and
after that, have given up the Event to God, let it be what it will; we have this Satif-
faction, That neither our own Hearts, nor other People, can reproach us juftly with
Neglect or Cowardife. When we have done our utmoſt, and performed what lay in
us, the Diſappointment leaves no Sting or Torment in the Mind; it is not vexatious to
reflect on our Miſcarriages, that happened through no Fault of ours, but were invifi-
ble, and not to be prevented; the Trouble is, where we look back, and ſee our Fol-
ly, or our Wickedneſs, the Cauſes of our Sufferings: That Recollection is uneafy and
intolerable, and fills the Soul with Pain, and with Confufion; but when we have dif
charged our Duties, been of good courage, and behaved ourselves as men; then we can
fay before, with Chearfulneſs, The Lord do that which feemeth him good; and bear it
handſomely after, be it what it will. We may be then unfortunate; but ſtill we ſhall
be innocent, and neither be accuſed nor condemned by our own felves, or others: We
acted prudently and well, but were not Maſters of the Event; that was in God's
Hands, and he hath done that which feemed him good.
The Application I intend to make of all theſe Matters to our felves, will be both
ſhort and plain. We are, we know, involved in War alike with all the World;
though the Occafion of it is not the fame with that of David's, yet it is full as great
and neceffary: The Hanun that we have to deal withal, does not deſcend to treat
Ambaladors villainouſly, but their Masters; deals with them all as Vaffals, or as Chil-
dren; does not cut off their Garments to the middle, but divefts them of the whole,
with mighty Scorn and Infolence; and cuts not off their Beards, but pares them to
the Quick; is not at War with all his Neighbours only, but with Faith and Honour,
Truth and Juſtice, and Religion; who knows no Diſtinction betwixt Right and
Wrong, but makes his Pleaſure and Convenience the Standard of his private and his
publick Actions: That has enraged the whole World againſt him, and like a ravenous
Wolf called all the Neighbourhood out to hunt their common Enemy; that notwith-
ſtanding all his open Force and Strength, and all his fecret Charms, hath kept no
active Ally or Confederate with him, but the publick and profeſſed Enemy of Chriſti-
anity; and that too by fuch Arts and Methods, as both good Chriftians and good
Turks abominate: One that befides theſe publick Evils, hath, by theVices and Impurities
of his private Life, finned himſelf into a dreadful Fear and Superſtition; and has been
labouring for fome Years to appeafe and placate God by human Sacrifices, by Cruelty
and great Barbarity, by the Deſtruction of his own Subjects, and by exhorting and
affifting other Princes to do the like. One, in a word, that has almoſt all the evil
Qualities of all the ancient and renowned Sons of Violence, without the Shadow of
their Virtues, or Pretence to any of their Merits: This is the Enemy I would exhort
you to be of good Courage againft; and fay with Joab, Let us play the Men. For
though theſe Words were ſpoken to an Army, ready to engage in Fight, yet they are
full as fit and proper for a peaceful Auditory; for we, as well as Soldiers, are concerned
in all the Events of War: We are the Body, of which they are the Hands to defend us;
and if we do not quit ourſelves like Men, it will be to little Purpoſe what they do:
If we by our Defpondency or Fear, by our Divifions and undue Heats, by our Remif-
nefs or Neglect of publick Concerns. by our Rapaciouſneſs or Parfimony, where there
is
on a Publick Fast, 1692.
47
:
is no need, or any other Methods, ftarve or difcourage them abroad, we fhall in vain
think to be fafe our felves at home; for whatever be the Event, We fhall be fure to feel
the worſt Effects of it. Here are the People and the Cities of our God; Here are the
Lives we have to lofe ourſelves, and thofe we value equally with our own; Here are
the Laws and Government, fo famous over all the World, for Liberty without Licen-
tioufness, for Monarchy without Tyranny, and for Subjection without Slavery: Here are
the Fortunes and Eſtates the beſt ſecured that can be, not ſubject to the Affeſsment or
Taxation of an arbitrary, lawleſs Prince alone, whofe Vanity or Folly, bad Defigns
or Wantonneſs, might drain the labouring and induſtrious Subjects; nor yet fo much
the private Maſter's own, as that he ſhould deny the Uſe of what the Publick finds
is neceffary to diſcharge its Duty. Here, laftly, are the Cities of our God, the beſt
Religion in the World, founded and built upon the Laws of God, and eſtabliſhed by
thofe of the Land: And if all theſe Confiderations are not ſtrong enough to perfuade
us to be of good courage and play the men in their behalf, there is nothing left to do it,
we ſhall deſerve to loſe them all. The very Apprehenfion of the Lofs of any one of
theſe, though ſometimes in Imagination only, and ofentimes at great Diſtance, has
frequently alarmed us to great Care and Watchfulneſs, and raiſed our Hearts and Re-
folutions; and if all of them together, in moft apparent Hazard, by a ftrong and
fubtle Enemy, will not encourage us, nay, force us to a brave Defence, and quitting
of ourſelves like Men, we ſhall be miſerable to Extremity; but ſhall be miſerable with-
out Excufe or Pity. When Men's Misfortunes come apparently from God's Hand,
from fome unlucky Accidents, that neither all their Wiſdom could foreſee, nor all
their Power and Care prevent; then, as I faid, they become the Objects of Compaffion :
But when their Folly or their Careleſneſs, their Cowardiſe or Falfhood, are the Occa-
fions of their Sufferings, the World around muſt laugh at and deſpiſe them, and their
own Hearts reproach and condemn them. If after we have gone thus far, and made
fuch fair and towardly Advances to a thorough Deliverance of ourſelves from many
certain, and more threatned Evils; and of the rest of Europe, from the Chain
provided for them, we ſhould not now go on, behave ourſelves like Men, and
fecond with our Hearts and Hands, and all the Affiftance that we can, the great and
generous Purpoſes of our King abroad; if we fhould either by Diffenfions, or ill-
timed Frugality, weaken his Hands and Heart, or thoſe of his Allies; we ſhould de-
fervedly become the Hiffing and the Scorn of all the Earth; our Chains would then
become our Necks, and Slavery fit gracefully upon us, becauſe we took fuch Pains for,
and becauſe we did fo well deſerve it: And where ſhould we look for Pity and Com-
paffion then, when our own Hearts would load us with Reproach and Infamy, and
great Confufion? But far be fuch Sufpicion from us; far be the Omen of theſe Miſe-
ries; we have a much more lightfome, comfortable Profpect of Affairs; the Caufe is
juſt and honourable, fo is the End, and fo are the Means; it is not Joab now, but
David, that exhorts to be of good courage, to play the men; not thoughtleſs Fools, or
trifling Children, but the men, for our people, and for the cities of our God. And let
us therefore hearken to him; let us both animate ourſelves and others with the Confi-
deration, that all we have that is near and dear to us is at Stake, and that we owe our
beſt Endeavours to them; and when we have done all that lies within our Power, let us
with Joab fay, The Lord do that which feemeth him good; for then it will be Time, and
not before: Then let the Event be what it will, we fhall be fatisfied; then we can
anſwer it to ourſelves and all Poſterity, although we are in Chains and Bondage; we
did what we could and ſhould; we took the Courſes that we judged moſt reaſonable
and fit; we were not wanting to ourſelves; but God is above us all, and knows what
we deſerve, and what is moſt convenient for us; he is the Arbiter and wife Difpofer
of
48
C.
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
of our Perfons and Affairs; he is the Mafter of Events, and gives us out the Lots
that beſt befit our Circumftances; and we muſt be contented with them, be they what
they will; and fay with Joab here, and good old Eli in another place, 1 Sam. iii. 18.
It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good.
A SER-
鹭
​49
į
SERMON
R M
Preached at Guild-Hall Chapel, December the
11th, 1692. before the Right Honourable the
Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen,
:
ECCLES. VI. 11, 12.
Seeing there be many things that increaſe vanity, what is man the better?
For who knoweth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his vain
life which he ſpendeth as a ſhadow? for who can tell a man what ſhall
be after him, under the fun?
T
HE great End and Defign of King Solomon in this Book, is, To fhew
wherein confifts the true and lafting Happineſs of Mankind; which he in
ſhort compriſes in the fearing God, and keeping his commandments. But know-
ing the World was old, and had been long in full Poffeffion of another fort
of Notions and Conceits of Happineſs than what he came to teach, he found it necef-
fary, firſt to undeceive it of its Errors, correct its wide Miſtakes, and root up its ill-
founded Prejudices and Prepoffeffions in this Matter. And to this end, the Preacher
(as he calls himſelf) well knowing it was as hard a Task to unlearn an old Miſtake, as
to take up a Leffon of new Truth, fpends half his Sermon in diſcovering to the World
the Emptiness and Vanity of thoſe four great Ends in which the Generality of Man-
kind had concurred to place their chief Felicity, namely, in Wisdom, Pleafures, Ho-
nours, or in Riches; on each of which he argues from particular Miſchiefs and Diffa-
tisfactions, and irreſiſtibly concludes, That each of them was vanity and vexation of
Spirit.
He was the fittest Man to pafs this decretory Sentence and decifive Judgment, that
ever yet was born into this World, of human Parents. For though there have been
Princes of as diffolute a Soul, and as unbounded Luxury as Solomon; although there
have been Princes that have raiſed their Slaves and Bondmen to Dignities and Wealth,
that far furpaffed the Glory and the Riches of the Kings of Ifrael and of Judah both
together; yet none of them were ever fitted equally with Solomon, to give a true Ac-
count and Character of either Pleaſure, Wealth, or Honours, becauſe they wanted
Wiſdom with the reft, and conſequently neither underſtood the Ufe and Worth, nor
yet the Vanity and Emptiness of thoſe Enjoyments. When we ſee a Man over-run
with Pleaſures, or behave himſelf with Infolence in Honour, or employ his Wealth to
evil Purpoſes, we preſently conclude the Fault is in his Judgment, and that the Things
themſelves, and in their own Natures, are fuch as Men of Wiſdom and Underſtanding
may both place and find therein abundance of true and folid Happineſs. But Solomon's
Experience, and the Sentence that he paffes on them, is fufficient (one would think)
to filence all Suggeſtions of that nature. He was the richest and most glorious King
that ever ruled in Ifrael, and made his Wealth and Power fubfervient to his Pleaſures.
And to all this, the moſt confummate Knowledge that a human Heart and Head is ca-
pable
I N
50
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
pable of bearing, was beſtowed upon him; beſtowed upon him at the firft, and in an
Inftant too; not acquired by Art and Induſtry, nor laboured out by long Experience;
which Kind of Wiſdom is commonly bought with a great deal of Time, and a great
many Miſcarriages and fad Miſtakes. And if a King, wife as the Oracles of God,
and wife before he entered on his Wealth, and Power, and Pleaſures, (which never
Man befides him was;) if he pronounce this Judgment, both from the perfect Know-
ledge and the full Enjoyment of them all, That they are vanity and vexation of ſpirit ;
there is enough, without recurring to the Infallibility of Scriptures, to be certain of the
Conclufion; for what he fays elſewhere, is very applicable here; What can the man do
that cometh after the king, but that which hath been already done? The King hath tried
and done all, and that with greater Affiftances and more Advantages than any Man
befides hath done; and yet declares, That all is vanity and vexation of ſpirit. And
what can any Man do after him, but try the fame, and make the fame Conclufion
too, if he be wife; or rather make the fame Conclufion without the Trial, and be con-
tent to be wife at Solomon's Expence ?
The Text is the Sum and Conclufion of all Vanities, the Epilogue of all theſe falſe
Felicities. Seeing there be many things that increaſe vanity, what is man the better?
It may be fome one might object, What though a Man do not find his Account in
Wisdom; it may be, the Purſuits of it are painful without Benefit, exceeding hard to
get at all, and yet of very little Uſe when gotten; and it may be that Conclufion is ve-
ry true, That in much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaſeth knowledge, increaseth
forrow. Yet there are other things in which a Man may ſeek and find his Happineſs in
this Life, fuch as it may be, Pleaſure, Honours, or Poffeffions; and that if one ſhould
fail a Man, another may be fure to make him good amends for his Miſtakes in Judg-
ment, or his Labour loft in Practice. Solomon, therefore, (aware of this to be fure)
concludes them all, upon Experiment, under the fame condemning Sentence; tells his
Hearers, That certain Happineſs was not to be found in any thing of this Life: That
it was never the better for Men, that there were many things and different Objects in
this World to place their Happineſs upon, fince all thofe many things and different
Objects carried their many and their differing Vanities along with them, and multipli-
ed Vexations to their Purfuers and Poffeffors. What is it better for a Man to have more
Occafions to employ his Care and Induſtry upon, fince he thereby has but the more
Defeats? What is it better for a Man to have Diverſity of Objects to fix his Hopes
upon, and raiſe him more and greater Expectations, fince he thereby has only more
and greater Diſappointments?
This Verſe is capable of, and hath had other Meanings put upon it; but this feems
both the beſt and propereft, and connects it with what went before, and what follows.
-For, who knoweth what is good for man in this life? Though there be many Things,
never ſo many Things, (which yet may be ranked under thoſe four heads) yet
what is Man the better as to the attaining true Felicity in them, fince they are all
of them in vain, and have no true Felicity belonging to them? But if they had, Man
were as far from getting it as ever, fince he is ignorant wherein it does confiſt, and
what it is would make him happy in this Life. Who knoweth what is good for man in
this life? The moſt exalted Underſtanding in the World, the cleareſt Forefight and
the ſtrongeſt Reaſon, with the moſt mature Judgment, is commonly as much miſta-
ken in its Choice of what is good for Man in this Life, as he that commits it to the
Chance of a Pair of Dice, or the Arbitration of fome thoughtless Child: And that
becauſe of the Uncertainty of future Events, which human Wiſdom cannot poffibly
foreſee; and the Inftability of Things prefent, which human Power cannot poffibly
fix and faften. And fince it is not worth the Name of Happineſs, that is expofed
to fo much Chance, and of fuch ſhort and uncertain Duration, it is impoffible for
Man
at Guild-Hall Chapel, December 11. 1692.
51
Man to know and chuſe what is good for him in this Life, and where to find his truë
Happiness; For who can tell a man what ſhall be after him? Who is there knows what
Time to come will bring forth? whether to Morrow's Event will not ſpoil to Day's
Happineſs, and quite unravel the beſt knit Plots, and fruftrate the moſt probable De-
figns that can be.
The Words in general thus explained, will afford us Three Propofitions to confider:
I. That though there are many Things, and great Diverſity of Objects for Men to
buſy themſelves about, and ſeek their Happineſs and Satisfaction in; yet it is never the
better for them, becauſe they all increaſe Vanity, they are all of them vain, and it is
in vain to think of finding our true Happiness in any, or in all of them.
II. That though theſe ſeveral Things would really much conduce to the bettering
Men's Conditions, and procuring to them Happineſs; yet it were never the better for
them, they would be never the nearer Happineſs, becauſe no Man knows what is
truly good for him in this Life, and moſt convenient to the attaining of that End.
III. That though a Man ſhould be ſo fortunate, as to light upon what was good for
him at preſent, yet he would have no great Reaſon to exult, becauſe his Good may be
fhort-lived, and change its Nature in a little time; For who can tell what shall be after
him?
Of theſe in their Order. And, First, That the Diverſity and Multitude of Objects
are all of them vain, they all increaſe Vanity. And this cannot better be demonftra-
ted, than by confidering in fhort the Vanity of thofe Four Heads, of Wisdom, Plea-
fure, Riches, and Honours; to which the World in general is devoted, in which
they think to find their Happineſs, and to which all other Things are eaſily reduced.
And,
It, Of Wiſdom; I had gotten (fays Solomon, chap. i. ver. 16.) more wisdom than all
they who have been before me in Jerufalem; yea, my heart had greater Experience of wisdom
and knowledge; but, in the very next Verſe he ſays, I perceived that this alfo was
vexation of spirit; for in much wisdom is much grief, and he that increafeth knowledge, in-
creafeth forrow. Not to ſpeak much of the Difficulties of acquiring Wiſdom here, and
getting but a tolerable Share of Knowledge; how many Years are ſpent in providing
the Memory with Words and Images; how many in applying Words to Things; how
many more in fitting them to underſtand Coherences, and making them attend to
Confequences and Connections? And when the Mind is thus prepared with neceffary
previous Elements, what work is there, to diſpoſe it to ſee the Convenience and Necef-
fity of its purſuing Wiſdom? How much of Life is over-flipt, before it thinks there
is any
Need of farther Underſtanding, and before it can be brought to fet about that
Buſineſs in good earneſt? And when it is convinced and refolute, what Pains, what
Trouble and Perplexities are there in laying down one fingle Prejudice and Prepoffef-
fion? What Labyrinths and Intricacies do we wander in, when we would folve
fome new or old Effects of Nature? How deep and dark are her Receffes? How hid-
den and obſcure are all her Cauſes and her Operations? How fubtle and entangling are
the Nets of Error? How hard is it to ſeparate it from Truth; and how involved is
Truth itſelf in Controverfies and Diſputes? What a world of ſtaggering Probabilities
on both Sides? And if a Man be ſettled with ſome fair Appearances and ſpecious A-
muſements to-day, he is, perhaps, awakened by ſome ſharper and feverer Truths to-
morrow; and the next Day's Thoughts put him again into a State of new Diſtraction
and Irrefolution. To name no more, How hard is it to fix on any Point, and to pur-
fue
52
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
fue it cloſely to the End? What infinite Labours, and almoſt inſuperable Difficulties,
does our inquifitive and curious Itch of new Varieties put us upon; fo that we paſs our
Lives away in our Diverfions and Excurfions after collateral Things, and loſe the very
Sight and Scent of our main Purpoſe and Defign? Not to dwell, I fay, long on theſe,
and on a thouſand, and ten thouſand other Difficulties that attend the Acquiſition of
Wiſdom, and the getting a little more than ordinary Underſtanding. Not to enlarge
too far upon the Troubles of poffeffing Wiſdom; its moſt inſatiable and voracious Ap-
petite; its never being filled with any Addition to it. Thirſt after Knowledge is like
that of Riches, and increaſes with it. It is (as one hath well expreffed it) like Drink
to a Man in a Fever, which inflames the Appetite to a more impetuous craving; which
is a very painful and uneafy State, and fhews the Vanity and unfatisfying Emptiness of
Knowledge, and brings abundance of Vexation with it. Not to infift on the reſt of
the Diſquiets that attend it: The unreaſonable Fears it infuſes into the Soul, by ſcaring
it with fantaſtick and imaginary Dangers, which may come to paſs; and perhaps
would, if this World were governed according to the Rules of human Wiſdom, and
an uninterrupted Train of reaſonable Caufes: The vaſt Defires it fills us with, as well
from the Confideration of the Capacity and Comprehenſiveneſs of the Soul, as from
the good Opinion it cheriſhes in Men of their Abilities: The Jealoufies it fubjects Men
to, from the fame Reaſon, of making them felf-conceited, and imagining ſufficient
Honours and Reſpects are not paid them; with other Doubts, Impatiencies, and reſt-
lefs Emulations, which are, if not the neceffary, yet the ufual Fruits of Wiſdom in
Poffeffion: Befides the fowring and corrupting all that Gaiety of Heart, and chearful
Temper, Men would otherwiſe be of; there being nothing more obferved to make
Men peevish, fretful and morofe, impatient of Oppofition, and imperious in Conver-
fation, than a retired and ſtudious Life, and a cloſe, ſevere way of thinking and ex-
amining Matters.
Not to inſiſt, at laft, upon the Danger there is of parting with this Knowledge Men
have had in their Poffeffion, in a very little time, by the Treachery of an unfaithful
Memory, by the Accident of fome ftrong Diſeaſe, by the Drinefs and Defects of old
Age; or, laftly, by the Stroke of Death; after which, there is no more remembrance of
the wife man than of the fool; feeing that which now is, in the days to come ſhall be forgot-
ten. Not to infiſt at large on all theſe, the Painfulneſs of getting, the Trouble of pof-
feffing, and the Fear of lofing Wiſdom, all which do moſt abundantly argue its Va-
nity: We may fuppofe a Man, infpired as Solomon, with natural Wiſdom, and fully
affured of keeping it till Death; yet it would not much contribute to his being happy
in this Life.
There is no Man, let him place his Happineſs in what he will, but either wants an
Acceffion of ſome new Thing he defires, or the Removal of fome old Inconvenience,
or elſe a firm Continuance of the State he is already in; all which depending moſtly
on the Wills of other Men, or on Accidents in Nature, which are varying every Day,
uncertain, unſecure to be relied upon, not poffible to be foreſeen; or, if foreſeen,
to be prevented; it is not the Wiſdom of this World that can make or keep Men
happy.
What if the wifeft Man on Earth wants, to compleat his Happineſs, a new Ac-
ceffion of Eſtate, or an Inheritor to what he has, or Virtue, Wiſdom and Sobriety
in that Inheritor; which Way fhall Wiſdom and Underſtanding make Proviſion of theſe
Things? Since, as Solomon tells us, Prov. ix. 11. That bread is not to the wife, nor yet
riches to men of underſtanding, nor yet favour to men of ſkill; but time and chance happen-
eth to them all. But if he ſhould have an Eſtate, and want an Heir, he would, it
may be, do like Solomon, Chap. ii. 18. Hate all his labour which he had taken under the
fun, becauſe he was to leave it to a stranger after him. But if it were a Son, Who
knoweth
at Guild-Hall Chapel, December 11. 1692.
53
knoweth whether he shall be a wife man, or a fool? Yet he shall have rule over all my labour,
wherein I have laboured, and fhewn myself wife under the Sun: And furely, this is alfo
vanity. And let no Man think it is unworthy of a wife Man, or below him, to de-
fire, or fet his Heart upon fuch things as thefe; or want them, to compleat his Happi-
neſs: For Solomon's Experience, and a very little Infight into human Nature, will af
fure him it is otherwiſe.
What if the wifeft Man living want to remove fome Bar and Hindrance to his Hap
pineſs, (for it is with wife Men fometimes, as it was with proud Haman; who,
though he was the fecond Perfon of an hundred twenty-feven Provinces, and received
the Bows and Adorations of all the Princes in the East; yet was not quiet for the Stiff-
neſs of Mordecai, one inconfiderable Jew;) they want fome little Matter or other in
their way to be removed, that troubles all their Peace and Quiet: And their Wiſdom
commonly is as little able to help them out, as Folly itſelf would be; whether the
Bar be put by natural Accidents, or by the Obftinacy and Oppofition of ſome reaſon-
able Agents.
For the firſt, Of Accidents: It is acknowledged, that no Wisdom is a Match for
Chance: But for the latter, Oppofition of Men; one might think, that Wiſdom might
deal well enough with that; but the contrary is commonly feen: For, What if a Man
know both the Tempers, and the ſeveral Intereſts of Men, and underſtand the whole
Art of Buſineſs, and the Management of practical Affairs? fince it happens very fre-
quently, that the Paffions and Inclinations of Men do apparently prevail againſt their
true Intereſt, ſo that, to deal with them in the way of Reaſon, is to lofe one's La-
bour on one hand: And fometimes Intereft prevails againſt the ſtrongeſt Inclinations,
and the Bent of all their Paffions; fo that to deal with them in the way of Nature, is
to loſe one's Labour on the other fide; and fometimes fome unreaſonable Pet, fome
trifling Jealouſy, and fome ill-grounded Error, prevails againſt Men's Intereſt and In-
clinations, and frequently their Judgments too. So that if a Man's Happineſs depend
upon his being able to deal with others, (as it often does) it is, at leaſt, an even Lay,
that the fuperior Wiſdom ſhall not be fuccefsful; and if he chance to light upon one
that is as wife as himſelf, there is fome Reaſon ſeen why he does not gain his Point,
but no great Comfort in the Confideration.
But if, in the third place, a Man's Happineſs require a Continuance in the State he
is already in, it is not all the Wiſdom of the World that can fecure it to him. What
Wiſdom is it that fecures Men from ſetting their Affections on the periſhing Things of
this Life? Where is the Philoſophy that can hinder a Man from loving his Eſtate, or
his Friends, immoderately? What Art or Underſtanding calls Men off from doting
on their Children, from liking even every thing they fay or do, from finding Wit in all
their Words, and Grace and Comelineſs in every Action? So that when Death de-
prives them of their Friends, their Favourites, or their Children, their Sorrows are
then multiplied, according to their fooliſh Fancies; and they have then a Number of
moſt ſolid, true, fubftantial Torments and Regrets, equal to that of their imaginary
and conceited Pleaſures; and in this Cafe they loſe much more than ever they truly
had: For, wretched is the After-game that wife Men play, as well as Fools, on theſe
Occafions; and there is no greater Miſtake, than to think that the Wiſdom of this
World (of which I have all along been ſpeaking) is a Prefervative againſt the Miſ-
chiefs of unreaſonable and unruly Sorrows. For, whether it be, that wife Men think
they know the Value of their Loffes better than the reft; or whether their Senfes are
refined by Speculation, and they become thereby more fufceptible of theſe fad Impref-
fions; or from what other Reaſon: they are commonly more ftricken with thoſe Ac-
cidents than other Men, and more impatient and untoward under them. So that, up-
on a ſerious Recollection, it is an hard thing to find the Advantage of worldly Wif
I O
dom
}
54
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
;
dom above the Plainnefs and Simplicity of common Men: It contributes as little to
Men's Happineſs; it is alfo vanity and vexation of spirit.
And if it be thus with Wiſdom, (as might be proved from endleſs Inftances) which
is, without Contradiction, and without Compariſon, infinitely fuperior to either Plea-
fure, Honours, or Riches, there will be lefs need of enlarging much on any of them,
or proving them improper for the procuring or preferving Men's Happineſs: But be-
cauſe the World is in Poffeffion of other Opinions of thefe Things, and more Men
live by Example than by Rules of Reaſon, and are more fenfible of Pleafures, and the
reſt, than capable of being wife; a word or two of each of them.
2dly, Therefore of Pleaſures: It is certain, that the Happineſs of this Life is that
(and no other than that) which Men eſteem their Happineſs; ſo that Men are never
the more or leſs happy for placing their Content and Pleaſure in Things folid or light,
ridiculous or grave, fuperfici or ſubſtantial; becauſe it is the Opinion Men have of
Things, and not the Things themſelves, that make Men happy. He that is worth
100,000l. yet thinks it is too little for his Purpoſes and Ends, is not happier than he
that is Maſter of an 100%. and thinks it is enough for him: He that has all the
World, befides the particular Thing he wants, is ftill unhappy, if he place his Happi-
nefs in what he wants. So that it is falfe and fooliſh too, to deny the Happineſs of
this Life to confiſt in Pleafure, if by Pleaſure we would only mean a State of being
pleafed, a Reft and Acquiefcence of the Mind in the Condition Men are in. And Epicu-
rus, fairly underſtood, was in the right, before the Oracles of God declared the con-
trary; if they too did not rather only change the Particulars, in which Men ought to
ſeek and place their Pleaſures and their Happineſs, and determined them to Things cer-
tain, conſtant, folid, and more durable, than the Light of natural Reafon could diſcover
to them. And therefore, when King Solomon declaims againſt Pleaſures; and fays, they
are vanity and vexation of Spirit; he means eſpecially Men's criminal Delights, their
wicked and unlawful Pleaſures, and thoſe polluted Joys that ruin both the Soul and
Body; and which, by way of Eminency, have gotten the Name of Pleaſure fixt
peculiar to them. But when he ſpeaks of the Vanity of other innocent Diverſions
and Delights, it is then with reſpect to their Shortneſs and Uncertainty; their Empti-
neſs, and diffatisfying Nature; the difproportionable Returns they make to Men's De-
fires, the Pains they are at to compaſs them, the Diſquiets and Impatiences of waiting
for them, and the ſpeedy Flights they take from them: So that it is hard to fay, or
name the Point of Time, in which they exiſt. And as little can be faid in behalf of
Honours, or of Riches. They are indeed, both of them, exceeding uſeful, and exceed-
ing neceffary to the World; but they are much more ſerviceable to others, than to
their own Maſters; they are commonly the laſt People they make happy, if at all.
What ferves the Pomp and Honour of a Coronet, the Veneration of a Mitre, and the
Terror of a Judge to themſelves? They are ſerviceable to the keeping Dignity and De-
cency in the Commonwealth, to the preſerving Unity and Order in the Church, and
to the Security of Men's Lives and Families, and Reputations and Eſtates; but all the
Benefit their Maſters find in them, is from the Reflection of thofe Honours from the
meaneſt and moſt miſerable People: And if their Servants and Dependants are not hap-
py, or refpected, it is manifeft, they think themſelves difhonoured and abuſed; and
conſequently their Happineſs, which is placed in theſe Things, is exceedingly preca-
rious, and in every Man's Power to interrupt and ſpoil. And befides, the Happineſs of
being honourable, or very rich, is much abated by the Reſtraint that is laid upon Men,
of owning or confeffing it: For whatever other Men, or whatever a Man thinks of
himſelf, yet it is not come to that paſs yet, that Men dare publickly boaſt themſelves
happy for either Honour or Riches: They rather chufe to pafs fome fober, mortify-
ing Sentence on thoſe States, and deprecate the Miſchiefs that do commonly attend
them.
Now
•
i
at Guild-Hall Chapel, December 11. 1692.
55
Now though Men underſtand them pretty well, yet it is fome kind of Trouble. to
conceal their Happineſs, and not tell in what their Vanity and Folly do moſt abound.
Not to enumerate the Dangers and Misfortunes thefe two States fubject Men to, of
being infolent, oppreffive, vain, luxurious, thoughtleſs, and Abundance of other Mif-
chiefs that confpire againſt Men's Happineſs in theſe Conditions; few are the Inſtances
of thoſe whom Wealth and Honours have made happier than they were before, and
many
of thoſe whom thoſe two States have betrayed and ruined. But,
II. Although theſe ſeveral Things would really much conduce to the bettering Men's
Conditions, and procuring to them Happineſs; yet Man would be but little better for
them, becauſe no Man knows what is truly good for him in this Life, and moſt conve-
nient to the attaining of that End. Though all of them fhould in their own Natures,
and in the Opinion of the World, be very good and fitted 8 make their Maſters happy;
yet
the Circumſtances of Men's Affairs are fo different and intricate, and the Tempers
of Men fo humourfome and uncertain, and the Accidents of Fortune ſo ſtrange and
many, that, it may be, that which would make ten thouſand People happy, ſhall
contribute to one Man's Mifery: That which would make a Man happy this Day,
ſhall To-morrow, perhaps, undo him. Nay, That in which Men have been happy
many Years, is that which will at laſt turn to their great Grief and Mifery. So fhort
is our Forefight, and fo vain and weak all our Endeavours, either to wish for, to pur-
fue, or to preſerve what is truly good for us in this Life.
What wilt thou give me, (faid Abraham to God) ſeeing I am childless? When God
had hardly made an End of promifing to be his field, and his exceeding great reward:
As if it had hardly been in God's Power to make him happy any
other way, than by
giving him an Heir, inſtead of Eliezer of Damafcus. But when the Day of Trial and
Temptation came, and this fo longed-for Heir was to be facrificed and killed by him
himſelf, there is no doubt but the Torment of that Thought did far exceed all the De-
lights that he had ever taken in that Son; and he was fo far from thinking a Son would
make him happy, that he found it was the only thing that could reduce him to the ex-
tremeſt Miſery a mortal Man is capable of.
What could be more honourable for Jephthah, than from a wretched and deſpiſed
Outlawry, to be intreated by the Elders of his People to return, and take the Rule of
Ifrael into his Hands? What Vows and Prayers could ſeem more proper and conveni-
ent, both for Ifrael and himſelf, than Vows and Prayers for Victory? Who is there,
that, in thoſe his Circumſtances, can (even in Fancy) think, that any thing was half
fo neceffary to compleat his Happineſs, as Conqueft over Ammon? And who but
would have thought, that grateful Offer which he made to God, before his going out
to fight, might have been a kind of Tye and Obligation to have both gotten and fecu-
red him Happineſs? Yet all was contrary: He had better have continued a deſpiſed
Exile, or periſhed by the Sword of Ammon; for the Sun that rofe upon his Victory,
and ſaw not an happier Man in all the Hoft of Ifrael, nor a more glorious and trium-
phant Conqueror elſewhere, yet ſhut not in at Even, a more deplorable and wretched
Creature.
One Man fancies, that if he had but an Eftate, he were compleatly happy; he
would uſe it with great Temperance himſelf, and do abundance of good to others. He
finds himſelf diſpoſed to do a great many hofpitable and generous Things, but wants
Supplies agreeing to the Largeneſs of his Heart: He finds his Bowels yearn at Objects
of Compaffion, and would relieve them if he could: He only feeks for Riches, to
oblige Mankind, and conciliate the Favour of God, and be entirely happy. But if,
by Accident or Induſtry, he does grow rich, his Heart and Purpoſes are commonly
changed with his Condition, or his Defires grow even with his Subſtance, and he is ſtill
as
56
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
as unable to do the good he defired to do, as before; the Poor are ftill as poor and
empty as they were, though his Bowels ſtill yearn on, and the Man perfuades himſelf
he longs to be doing good, but, to his great Diſcomfort, wants Ability. This is the
beſt of the Cafe, that a Man with his Riches does no harm, although he does no good;
but it ſeldom reſts here, he is either tempted to forget God, and facrifice to his own
Drags, or falls by degrees into a State of Luxury and all Exceſs, and makes the
Things that ſhould have been for his Good, an Occafion of his falling; and is to his
Coft convinced, that it is better to continue poor, with good Defires, than rich with-
out them; or with them, when they come alone; and that he was not made to be
happy by Riches, but was miſtaken in the Means of compaffing his End.
Another Man believes a Place of Honour and Authority would make up all his
Wants, and compleat his Happineſs; and thinks withal, he ſhould be capacitated to
do a great deal of Service to his Country in it; he ſhould right the wronged, and re-
lieve the oppreffed, and do Juſtice to the poor and needy, with Abundance of other
notable good Turns: But when he is in Honour and Authority, he grows, it may be,
proud and infolent, regards not Right or Wrong fo much as Favour and Convenience;
uſes his Intereſt and Power to private Ends and evil Purpoſes; and is, inſtead of being
happier in that higher Station, but more involved in Troubles, and perplexed in Mind:
And when he turns him to his Infide, fees he was not made for Honours and great
Places, and that his clambring upwards brought him not to Happineſs, but to the Dan-
ger
of
a great Fall, and an uneafy Seat in the mean while.
Another thinks, his good might be procured by Oratory and the Power of Eloquence,
and ſpends his Lamps and Nights, in reading the Works of the great Maſters of that
Faculty, and turning over Cicero and Demofthenes; but had better ſpend an Hour or
two in reading of their Lives and Ends: To fee to what unworthy Purpoſes thoſe
mighty Parts were oft abuſed, what foul and wicked Acts thofe Streams of Eloquence
were to wash away; what Emulations, Strifes, Contentions and Debates they were per-
petually engaged in, and how fatal it was to both, to speak beyond Compariſon.
The beſt Tongues have the moſt Cauſes, but they have commonly the worſt too;
and if they get greater Eſtates, they get the more Ill-will and Odium with them. And
it is hardly poffible for them to thrive exceedingly, but to the Wrong of ſome, and
the Undoing of others. And who can think of being happy at the Expence of Truth
and Juſtice, with any Comfort? Befides, that an eloquent Tongue and fluent is an Al-
lurement to talking much, and holding up a Controverfy, which engages Men (in Op-
pofition) to ſay a great many unkind things, and a great many fooliſh, and a great
many falſe; and if true, yet a great many vain and unneceffary things: It puts Men
on the Rack, and often ſharpens the Wit to a degree of Keenneſs, that ends, without
great Care, in Spitefulneſs and Ill-nature; and, rather than want an Anſwer, or the
making an handſome Period up, the Men of Wit and Fluence either chuſe, or hap-
pen, to loſe a faſt Friend, to diſoblige a great Man, and create a powerful Enmity. It
is like a fharp and double-edged Knife; for one Piece of Service it does its Maſter,
it cuts his Fingers twice: and is fo far from being fitted to make Men happy, that, as
hardly one in a thouſand attains to it, fo it is hardly fit for one of an hundred thou-
fand.
Another Man has a brave Heart, and ftrong Sinews, and fancies he is fitted for the
Camp, and is defigned for Happineſs by Victories and Triumphs: But theſe are com-
monly the Dreams of Men at Eafe, and the gay Refults of Wine and good Company.
He thinks not on the Toils and Hardſhips of that Life he meets withal upon Experi-
the Straits of inconvenient Lodging, unwholſome Diet, and inclement Seaſons
the perilous Attempts, the Infolence of Superiors, and Inferiors Mutinies; the ſpiteful
Emulations, the baſe and infamous Detractions; the wicked Notions of Religion, Mo-
ence;
rals,
at Guild-Hall Chapel, December 11. 1692.
57
rals, and true Honour; with the ridiculous Punctilio's of falfe: The fevere revengeful
Profecutions of their idle Quarrels, the frequent Perjuries, the raging Blafphemies, the
horrible Enormities, Injuftices, Rapes, and Beftial Villanies, that commonly attend
that way
of living. And yet even this, and all the reft of the particular Conditions I
have mention'd; and a great many more I have omitted, are in the Opinion of the
World, fitted to make Men happy, with the Happiness of this Life; and moſt of
them, it may be, in their own Natures, would in fome wife conduce to it, if it were
not for our Blindneſs in feeking, our Ignorance in ufing, and our Folly in abufing
them. But,
III. Though a Man fhould be ſo fortunate as to light upon what was good for him
at preſent, yet he would have no great Reaſon to exult, becauſe his Good may be ſhort-
liv'd, and change its Nature in a little time. For who can tell a Man what ſhall be after
him?
This Head does in fome meaſure fall in with the other; and therefore, the leſs will ferve
to fhew its Truth: And there is no need of proving this by Arguments or Deductions
of Reaſon; there is only need that Men fhould open their Eyes and Ears, and attend
to the Inſtances that meet them every Day, of private and of publick Perfons, Fami-
lies and Kingdoms, of Friends and Enemies, of Strangers and Acquaintances; how
varying and uncertain all the Conditions of human Life are; how little any Man can
promiſe to himſelf, or any elfe, the Continuance of the State he is already in; what
fudden Turns of Fortune thruft Men out of their Felicity, which they imagined
would have lafted them their Lives long; how many little unforeſeen, unthought of
Accidents difturb, and quite unfettle the moſt fixt and fteddy Courfe of Happineſs?
How one unlucky lowring Day rifes, and interrupts the Peace and Joy of our whole
Lives, and makes them fet in Sorrow and Deſpair. Boaft not (faith Solomon) of to-mor-
row, for thou canst not tell what a day may bring forth, Prov. xxvii. I.
Emilius Paulus was the greateft and the happieſt Roman in his Time, for many
Years; he had four Sons of great Hopes, and thinking two of them enough to propa-
gate his Name, he gave the other two to be adopted into the braveſt and the nobleſt
Families of Rome. And having conquer'd Perfeus, and his Kingdoms, (the Foil of
four preceding Generals) he brought the King and all his Children Captives, to grace
his Triumph and victorious Entry into Rome. But mark, how Fate with them, and
with us the Providence of God, difpoſes of Events. The King defign'd for Miſery,
had all his Children then about him, the greateſt Comfort that his bad Eſtate could
then bear; and the triumphant Victor loſt his eldeſt Son a few Days before his glorious
Entry, and his youngeſt three Days after. And though all Men thought before, that
Perfeus was the greateſt and faddeft Inſtance of the Uncertainty of human Happineſs,
yet then the Scene was changed, and all the Pity fell upon the old and miſerable Con-
queror.
There is no body, fcarce, whofe Knowledge, or whofe Reading does not furniſh
him with Inſtances enough, and too many, of this Nature, to confirm him in the O-
pinion, that the Happineſs of this Life is of a very ſhort and uncertain Continuance;
and that no Man can have reaſon to exult, or be fecure in his preſent State, whilſt lia-
ble to ſo many lamentable Accidents, and furrounded with ſuch Hazards.
Since then, (to conclude) all theſe Things are fo; fince all is Vanity, and Vexation
of Spirit; fince there is no true Happineſs to be found in any of thoſe Things, in
which Men chiefly place it, What muſt become of us? Are we brought into this
World, to be perpetually deluded with the Hopes of being happy; yet nothing in it
for to build thoſe Hopes upon? Muft we wander up and down, like poor bewildred
Strangers, in queft of what we are never likely to obtain? Nature has planted in us all,
I P
we
58
A Sermon preached before the Lord Mayor, &c.
we find, Hopes and Defires of being happy; but we are left, it ſeems, to ſeek it where
we can; and to feel it out, like hood-winked People, in perpetual Maze and Wind-
ing.
And is there then no Anſwer to thefe Queſtions in the Text?
Yes, there is: And he that put theſe Queſtions, gives himſelf a full and fatisfying
Anſwer to them all; but it is fo far from my Text, that I muſt but juſt repeat it; for
it is the very laſt Sentence in the Book: Hear the conclufion of the whole matter: Fear
God, and keep his commandments; for God ſhall bring every work into judgment, with every
Secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil.
If you defire to know what is good for Man in this Life, I will tell you: Fear God,
and keep his commandments: That is good for Man in this Life; All the days of his vain
life which he spendeth as a shadow. Though there be many things that increaſe vanity,
yet there is ſomething he may faften on, that has no Vanity, nor carries any Manner
of Vexation with it; and that is, fearing God, and keeping his commandments.
Time and Chance make mighty Work and Alteration in every other State, but have
no Power to interrupt and ſpoil the Peace and Happineſs of this.
··
And, as the Ignorance and great Uncertainty of what may happen, argues the Vani-
ty of all theſe other States, and is a great Diſcouragement to the purſuing them fo
warmly, and ſo zealouſly; (For who can tell a man what ſhall be after him?) ſo the
Certainty of what will follow the Neglect or the Performance of this our Duty, fear-
ing God, and keeping his commandments, is as great an Encouragement on the other
hand, to the doing it: And that is, the Certainty of Judgment; For God fhall bring
every work into judgment, with every fecret thing, whether it be good or evil.
So that now we know what ſhall be after us: And knowing what is good for Man
in this Life, is alſo good for him in another; we have our Anſwer to the Queſtions in
the Text: And fince we are convinced of the Vanity of all Things elſe, let us, at
laſt, attend to this Divine Conclufion of the whole Matter, and fear God, and keep his
commandments.
A SER-
59
SER
R
A
MON
Preached before the QUEEN at White-Hall,
February the 12th, 169.
EZEKIEL xxxIII. 31.
And they come unto thee as the people cometh, and they fit before thee as
my people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them: For
with their mouth they fhew much love, but their heart goeth after their
covetousness.
T
HESE Words are part of God's Complaint to and by the Prophet, of the
People's Non-Proficiency under the Miniftry of Ezekiel, and the other
Meffengers of God's Word; notwithſtanding all the Shew and fair Appear-
ance that they made, notwithſtanding all the Forwardnefs they came with
to the Houſe of God, the attentive Diligence they fat with, and the Love and Liking
they pretended to the Sermons of the Prophets.
The Deſcription of this is very plainly laid down in the Text; and it fhall be my
firſt Buſineſs, to confider it as plainly, and my fecond to affign fome Reaſons, as well
as I can, why both the Prophets heretofore, and now our Miniſtry, is fo unedifying
and ineffectual.
Son of man, (faith God to the Prophet, in the Verfe before the Text) the children of
thy people still are talking against thee, by the walls and in the doors of the houses. By
talking against the Prophet, is here meant about the Prophet; for it appears both from
this, and the following Verſes, that they liked the Prophet mightily; but becauſe they
acted contrary to his Inftructions, they are faid to talk against him, though in Words
they talked in his Commendation: And Speak one to another, every one to his bro-
ther, faying, Come, I pray you, and hear what is the Word that cometh forth from the
Lord.
There could not, one would think, be a better Difpofition in the World than this;
they were not only careful and ready to hear the Word themſelves, but zealous alſo of
their Neighbour's good. They invited each his Brother with great Tenderneſs, Come,
I pray you, and hear what is the word that cometh forth from the Lord, Such a good
Forwardneſs was very pleaſing heretofore to David; I was glad, (faid he, Pfalm cxxii.
1.) when they ſaid unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. But it ended not in
Invitations, for they came accordingly.
They come, (faith the Text) as the people cometh, i. e. in great Bands and Companies;
they reſort to the Houſe of God in fuch Multitudes, that it looks like the going forth
of a Nation to fight, or the gathering together of a People to fome mighty Purpoſe;
to ſpeak in the modern Phraſe, the Place was thronged exceedingly where-ever this
Ezekiel preached or prophefied. And,
2dly, They fit before thee, faith God, as my People. They come and fit as People
that profeſs to belong to God peculiarly; as People that would be fignaliz'd and known
by their Relation to him, as diftinguiſhed from the whole World. They fit as gravely
and
60
A Sermon preached before the QUEEN,
1
and demurely in the Houſe of God, they liften and attend as heedfully, as is imagina-
ble; fo that you could not chufe but take them for God's People. There is all the ex-
ternal Tokens and Geftures of Attention and Devotion poffible to be fhewn; and there
is no Man but would think they met to good Purpoſe. And,
3dly, They hear thy Words; they did not make this Noiſe and Invitation of each o-
ther, and reforting to the Houſe of God themſelves in fuch great Companies, for no-
thing but to gaze about, or fleep, or talk impertinently, or worfe; but to hear the Pro-
phet; and they heard him. They came with full defign and purpoſe to hear what was
the Word that came forth from the Lord; and that was their Errand and Intention,
to be inſtructed in the Will of God, to know his Precepts and Commands from the
Mouth of his Meffenger and Prophet; and that they heard.
But, Lastly, they did not only hear, but like, approve, and love the Word of God:
With their mouth they fhew much love. And lo, (faith the Verſe following the Text)
thou art unto them as a very lovely fong, of one that hath a pleaſant voice, and can play
well on an inftrument: They did not only like the Song, it ſeems, but the way of fing-
ing it, the Grace and Air with which he fet it off; they did not only approve the Mat-
ter of the Prophet's Sermon, but the Manner of its Delivery too; the comely Mien
with which he ſpoke, his graceful Way of Elocution, and the harmonious Cadence of
his Voice. He had all the external Accompliſhments, as well as internal, that a Man
could want or wiſh for; and the People took great Notice of it, and had him in Eſteem
accordingly. But notwithſtanding all theſe advantageous Ornaments in the Prophet,
and all this Forwardneſs to hear, and favourable Difpofition in the People towards him;
yet it happened to his Sermons, as it does to lovely Songs, they pleaſed the Ear, and
ftruck the Fancy for the prefent, but made no deep and fenfible Impreffion on the
Mind and Underſtanding; they did not influence them to practiſe any whit, what they
fo long'd to hear, and liked when heard and uttered by him; for fo it follows in the
Text: They hear thy words, but they will not do them. With their mouth they ſhew much
love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness. This people (as is elſewhere faid) bo-
noureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Which is the ſecond Thing
I am to ſpeak to, and if I can, affign fome Reaſons how the Prophet's Sermons here-
tofore, and now our Miniftry, is fo unedifying and ineffectual: And,
First, One Reaſon of fome People's Non-Proficiency, may be this very Curiofity
here deſcribed, this Itch of hearing one that preach'd fo foftly, and fo fweetly, and
with ſo good a Grace, That his words were to them as a very lovely fong, of one that hath
a pleaſant voice. They came to hear the Word of the Lord, becauſe it founded ſweetly
from his Mouth: Becauſe his Voice was tuneable; his Geſtures and Deportment manly,
comely, and excelling; his Periods round and flowing, and his Elocution fweet and
powerful. And when Men only come to take in Sound, they will unavoidably return
empty: When they only hunt for Words, they must not think of catching Things of Sub-
ftance; and they who are intent upon the Manner only, muft let flip the Matter. Not
that all theſe Qualifications are not very defirable and advantageous both to Prophet and
to People too; and that the one may wish for, and the other labour to attain theſe good
Accompliſhments, to the better carrying on the Work, and the greater Edification;
but that there is Danger of laying too much Streſs upon theſe Matters: The People find
themſelves moved and affected for the prefent, and are thereby tempted to regard no far-
ther Edification, or to think they have already edified fufficiently; miſtaking oft, the
moving of their Fancies, for Operations on their Judgments and their Underſtandings;
and the Prophet is thereby in Danger to be tempted to proceed in Ways ſo eaſy, and fo
acceptable, if he have not a good Share of Grace, and Honeſty, and Prudence.
It cannot well, indeed, be otherwiſe, that Men who come with a light and trifling
Spirit, prepared, and, as it were, refolv'd to be pleaſed with nothing but external Garbs
and
і
at White-Hall, February 12th, 1692-3.
OI
and Modes of ſpeaking, fhould come to any Purpoſe, or return the wifer, or the better,
let the Prophet ſay whate'er he can. It is in this Cafe that Men feldom find any more
than they ſeek for; and 'tis very natural to think, that Men that only come to gratify
their Curiofity, to hear fome new Things, fome fine delightful Notions, and ſome fan-
ciful Diſcourſe, and to obſerve the Method and the Style, and Way of Preaching,
ſhould go away diffatisfied, if they meet not with theſe Things, and perfectly unedify'd
if they do.
Another Reaſon of the People's Non-Proficiency, may be, their having no Opinion,
or Conceit at all of the Prophet's Abilities; this is a worſe Extream than the other; very
diſcouraging of the Prophet, damps his Spirits mightily, and checks the Vigor of his
Thought, and cauſes him fometimes to flacken his Endeavours. But whatever Effect
it has on him, it cannot poffibly have any good one on the People: They are thereby
pre-diſpoſed to meet whatever ſhall be offered them, with Neglect or fupercilious Con-
tempt: They have pre-judged his Performances already, and all he fays, feems but as
idle Talking. When once Men entertain a Prejudice againſt Men's Perſons or Abilities,
it is not eafy to be reconciled, or to attend to what they ſhall deliver. Either they will not
let themſelves be perfuaded, that what is faid, is true and reaſonable; or Truth itſelf be-
comes unacceptable from them: Men hear, and fee, and judge, by their Affections. When
once we have debaſed a Man in our Opinion, his very Looks become unlovely, his Actions
are ungraceful, and all his Wiſdom ſeems as Fooliſhneſs; the Spirit of Contradiction feizes
on us, and we are ready to do Violence to our own Reafon, rather than allow of his.
The Complaint is of long ſtanding, that moſt Men mind more who it is that ſpeaks,
than what it is that is ſpoken. So that fince 'tis plain, Affections difference People's
Perfons, 'tis alſo plain they biaſs and corrupt Men's Judgments; and as the Exceſs cor-
rupts them in their Favour, fo want of Love corrupts them to their Prejudice. But, as
I faid, this is the worſe Extreme of the two; for a good Opinion will improve the
meaneſt Performances, fome way or other, to its own Advantage; whereas a bad one
will not edify under the ableſt Miniftry: So true it is, that light and idle People bring
the Satisfaction along with them, which they think they come to feek for in theſe
Places. They come, they think, to be pleaſed; but, indeed, they are pleaſed before
with Fame, or ſomething elſe, and therefore come. One may fay on this, as St. James
fays on another Occafion, My brethren, theſe things ought not ſo to be.
A third Occafion of People's Non-Proficiency may be, their having by their Choice,
or Accident, or Education, taken up ſome odd Opinions and peculiar Fancies in Reli-
gion, contrary to what is commonly and authoritatively taught; and Men are frequent-
ly fo fond of their own Conceits and private Notions, that they do not only entertain
with great Diſlike the Doctrines that oppoſe them, and the Reaſons that confute them;
but for their Sakes, they frequently reject and caft by all befides; they will not abide
what they have nothing to object to, for the fake of fomething that diſlikes them; that
is, a Man muſt be of my fide altogether, before he can talk acceptably; and if he do
not agree with me in this or that Particular, then I will diffent from him in any other;
which ſhews more Love to ourselves than Truth, and that we rather like to be humour-
ed than convinced. This is a very weak Occafion of Non-Proficiency; but as weak as
it is, it is too common; and befides, I am affigning Reaſons for fuch Effects as few or
no Cauſes are fufficient for.
No, not even that which I am next in the Fourth Place to affign, (i.e.) the evil Life
and vicious Practice of the Prophets; for though the wicked Converſation of the Prieſt,
be the moſt horrible Reproach imaginable, and minifters Occafion to the greateſt Scan-
dal poffible, and ſhall be puniſhed with the moſt intenſe Degree of Torment; yet it will
by no means juſtify any Imitation of his evil Practice, or excufe the Neglect or Con-
tempt of his Doctrines, that are agreeable to Reaſon, and confirm'd by Scriptures: Be-
де
caufe
62
A Sermon preached before the QUEEN,
more.
cauſe it is certain, all Men are obliged to live by Rule, and not Example. And though
the Prieft be indifpenfably obliged by all the Ties of Reaſon and Religion, to be him-
felf the Example of the Rules of good Living, yet his Apoftacy will cover no one's
elfe from Blame or Puniſhment. Whether Priefts, the more immediate Minifters in
God's Service, are not tied to greater Sanctity and Strictnefs of Life, than other People,
by God's Laws, may furniſh Matter for Difpute, becauſe the Laws of Virtue and the
Precepts of Morality are general and common to all Mankind, together with the Prieſts;
and all Men are obliged to be as good as poffibly they can, and the Prieſts can be no
But rather than conteft this Matter now, I fhall take it for granted, that
Priests have a clofer Obligation to live well and virtuouſly than other People, and that
Vice as ill becomes them, as Corruption of the Law does a Judge, though all Men are
alike obliged to Juſtice and Impartiality; or as want of Honour and Reſpect to a Prince
becomes a Courtier, though all Men are alike obliged to pay them all they can, and all
that is due, and neither Judge nor Courtier can do more. Yet notwithſtanding this
their clofer Obligation to live holily and well, than other People's, their Relaxation of
the Reins of Difcipline, and living in Contradiction and Defiance to their Doctrines,
as they cannot encourage any elfe to follow them in Practice, fo they ought not to pre-
judice the Truth or Virtue of thofe Doctrines, or to hinder the Operation of them to
the Amendment of Men's Lives. They do, indeed, too commonly and too eafily
do it; but it is with no Reaſon; there is no tolerably inferring from one Man's evil
Practice to another's evil Practice, and much leſs his Unbelief; there is no concluding
the People's Security from the Wickedneſs or the Self-Condemnation of the Prieſt.
The Scandal that is given by wicked Minifters, fhall heat their Furnace feven Times
hotter than the reſt; but the Scandal taken ſhall not leffen any one's Degree of Puniſh-
ment; whoever offends by Example, ſhall be as guilty, and liable to as great an In-
fiction as the Crime itſelf deferves, and ſhould have had, had there been no Example
given; fuppofing that there be a Rule to walk by. For it is rule we are to live, and
fhall be judged by, and not example. An Example is, indeed, of uſe, to fhew us that
the Rule is practicable, and to excite us to Imitation; but every one in truth is
bound to be himſelf the Example of the Rule. It is impoſſible, our Saviour ſays, but
that offences ſhould come; and wo to that man by whom they come; it were better for him
that a milftone were hanged about his neck, and he thrown into the fea. This will un-
queſtionably be the Fate of evil Paftors, that by vicious and diforderly Living, give
Occafion of Offence and Falling to weak Chriftians; but the falling thus, and being
thus offended, is not hereby leffened or excuſed; their Misfortunes do not grow the
lighter. As the one ſhould not give, and ſhall be puniſhed for giving, fo the other
ſhould not take, and ſhall be puniſhed for taking that Offence, againſt a plain Rule
and poſitive Command to the contrary.
In very dubious and uncertain Matters, an Example may be as reaſonable and juſtifi-
able a Biaſs as any elſe whatever, if it be of one that is of prefum'd Integrity and Under-
ſtanding; becauſe the following fuch an Example, is following the beſt Reafon we
have, and acting according to the beft of our Underſtanding; which is, in dubious
Matters, or fuch as lie beyond our reach, chufing the beſt for ourſelves we can. But
in Matters of Morality and plain Practice, where every one's Underſtanding is his
Rule, and a fufficient one too, there, not an Hundred, nor a Thouſand Inftances, are
fufficient to acquit a Man (no, not even to himſelf) offending againſt a known Rule;
for it is not Number, but Truth that we must follow. Methinks I need not argue
much in this behalf, to fhew that People ſhould not follow the Steps of wicked Pro-
phets, whoſe Example they do commonly (and, truly, moſt deſervedly) defpife and
hate. But the Commonneſs of the Excufe that People make, that they cannot pro-
fit under an evil Miniſtry, will do more than juſtify what has been faid on this Ac-
count:
at White-Hall, February 12th, 1692-3.
63
count: But it is, indeed, too near to flattering of ourſelves, to feek for Cauſes at fuch
diſtance, which lurk at Home fo near us, even in our Hearts. And though the Para-
ble of the Sower of Seed were primarily intended by our Saviour to fhew the Impedi-
ments that would obftruct the Propagation of the Gofpel at its firft Preaching; yet
it is very proper, and well fitted to exprefs the feveral Caufes that obftruct its Influence
on the Minds of Men, in its Progreffion, even in every After-Age and Generation:
And to fome Enquirers of the Non-proficiency of Hearers under the Miniftry, we may
affign this fifth Caufe:
5thly, Some are Hearers by the way fide, where the word is fown; but when they hear,
Satan cometh immediately, and taketh away the word that was fown in their hearts. Some
hear by Chance, and it is more than fo, that they edify not at all with it. They ſtroll
about like Vagrants, and light upon the Word of God, as on a Thing they thought
not of, and part with it as eafily. They come without Defign, without
any Confide-
ration, or Preparation of the Heart; and as the Sower cannot ſcatter with fo even an
Hand, but fome will fall by the Way-fide, befides the Furrows and prepared Ground;
fo the Voice and Word of the Prophets will reach ſome that are as ill prepared to hear
it, and who make fo fhort and little ufe of it, that they can hardly fay they loft it. It
is no Difficulty for Satan to fnatch that away, they found at unawares, and cared fo
little for, and held fo weakly, and fo flightly. It is true, indeed, that theſe unthinking
Stragglers are fometimes caught by fomething accidentally delivered to them; and from
a wavering and uncertain Faith, and looſe Morals, are fuddenly reclaimed and fixed,
both in their Judgment, and a fteddy Courſe of Virtue and Obedience; but this is fuch
an extraordinary, unufual Operation of the Spirit of God upon the Mind, that as there
is no Promiſe of it made to any one, fo there ought to be no Expectation of it. The
leaft that any one can bring towards his Edification, is an Intention and Defire of be-
ing edified; no one in Reafon can expect to be fo benefited againft, or without their
Will and Inclination. But neither is a previous, bare Intention only, to be edified,
fufficient; for many come with this, and yet return as empty as they came: It is alfo ne-
ceffary, that fome after-Care fucceed; for, Satan, like a Bird of Prey, cometh imme-
diately, and takes away the feed, fcarce covered over, that was fown in their hearts; di-
verts them preſently, and will not fuffer them to meditate, or think deliberately on
what they heard. He hates Confideration in the Sons of Men, and knows it is his
mortal Enemy, and in a little time would overthrow his Kingdom, and therefore uſes
all his Art and Cunning to prevent it.
Another fort there are, our Saviour tells us, of Auditors that are reprefented by the
Seed falling on the ftony Ground; Thefe hear the word, and anon with joy receive it;
but having no root, endure but for a time; for when perfecution or affliction ariſeth becauſe
of the word, they are prefently offended. Abundance of People come to Church with
very good Deſigns and Purpoſes, and behave themſelves well and devoutly there; liften
attentively, and are very much affected with what they hear, and ſtedfaſtly purpoſe to
put in practice what they find fo applicable to, and what concerns themſelves. But
when they come to make the Experiment, and put their good Refolves in Execution;
the Hold that Eaſe and Pleaſure have taken on them is not eafily let go; the Difficul-
ties and Severities of Virtue and Religion ftare them in the Face, and appear fo formi-
dable and unacceptable to human Nature, that they immediately give up their better
Reſolutions, and fall again into their ufual Courſes. They hear with Joy, and receive
with Joy, and apply with Joy, and refolve with Joy to profit themſelves of what they
hear; but the Afflictions of Repentance and Obedience, of Mortification, and the
Want of what they have fo long been uſed to; the Profecutions of Delights and Plea-
fures, that continually purſue and haunt the Mind; in a word, the leaving off delight-
ful Things, and taking up unuſual and unacceptable ones, is a great Cauſe of Non-Pro-
ficiency.
54
A Sermon preached before the QUEEN,
ficiency. The Doctrine is agreeable to Reaſon, they ſee its great Convenience and Ne-
ceffity, indeed, but the Difficulty of the Practice ſpoils all, and fets them back again,
and leaves them as their Reſolutions found them; they would be admirable Chriſtians,
if nothing but Confent of Reaſon and Judgment were wanting; if they might live as
they defire and do, without forfaking what they like, and taking up with what they
like by no means: If believing what we fay, and firmly purpofing to act accordingly,
were to edify, they would edify moſt abundantly; but as to practifing what they hear,
they fay with Naaman, The Lord pardon them in that thing.
Another fort of unprofiting Hearers, are repreſented by our Saviour, by the Seed that
fell among the Thorns, -Such as hear the word, and the cares of this world, and the
deceitfulness of riches, and the lufts of other things entring in, choak the word, and it be-
cometh unfruitful. The former would have profited, but for Pleaſure; theſe would be
edified, but that Gain and Buſineſs hinder them. They hear right, and underſtand
and apply right, but their Minds are eſtranged and carried off, by their intenſe Deſires
of growing Rich, and by the Multiplicity of their Concerns, and Clutter of Affairs.
The World has taken fuch hold and faſtning on their Hearts, that when they find
themſelves moved by any thing we ſay, and are inclined to loofen and relax, to mind
their better and more lafting Intereft; it ftill throws out fome Bait or other to detain and
keep them, fome weighty Thing or other interferes, and either voids their Reſolutions
quite, or elfe defers them to a more convenient Seafon; which gives another like Tempta-
tion, Means and Opportunity to enter, and obtain its Day of hearing; and fo the Life is
loft in a Circle of Refolutions and Defeats, in Promiſes and ſtedfaft Purpoſes, and cold
Complaints for want of Opportunities. As the Prophet accufes in the Text; With their
mouth they ſhew much love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness. They are fenfi-
bly affected with what they hear and learn, and like it very well, and expreſs their Li-
king in Defires and Reſolutions to obferve and practiſe it; but their Hearts, when they
come to Tryal, fail them and deceive them, and cannot be difentangled from their Bu-
fineſs, and the Profecution of their gainful Callings and Deſigns. When their Minds
afpire to heavenly Things, this fatal Poife and Tendency to worldly Wealth, clogs
them, and drags them downwards ſtill, although againſt their Reaſon and Reſolutions;
and if this Son's Preferment, and that Daughter's Fortune were fecured, they could at-
tend on God without Diſtraction; they would then forfake a vain and finful World,
and its deceitful Riches, and lay up better, and more lafting Treaſures, in a better Place,
where neither moth nor ruft doth corrupt, and where no thieves break through and fteal;
but before this comes to pafs, the Man grows old, and fees his little Images in Chil-
dren's Children, and Nature quickens him again to greater Fondneſs, and they muſt
have their Portions from new Toils and new Anxieties; and the Cares of this World
begin again, and the Deceitfulneſs of Riches choaks the Word that hath ſo oft been
heard with Joy and Gladneſs; and notwithſtanding all his Approbation and his Re-
folutions to improve, yet it becomes unfruitful.
I know not well, how proper you may think it to affign fuch Cauſes of Men's Non-
proficiency under the Miniſtry of Preaching, when the Pretence and End of Preach-
ing is to remove thoſe Cauſes and Impediments: It looks as if Phyſicians ſhould excuſe
their ill Succeſs, by affigning fuch and ſuch Obſtructions to the Energy of their Medi-
cines, when it is the proper Buſineſs of their Art and Calling to remove thoſe
very Ob-
ftructions: It may rather ſeem to betray the Weakneſs of the Word of the Lord, to ſay
that the Lufts and Pleafures, the Cares, and Love of Riches, hinder it from being fruitful,
when it is that Word itſelf that is to mortify thofe Lufts, fubdue thofe Longings, re-
move thoſe Cares, and kill that Love of Riches at the very Root. To this we muſt
ſay, that however powerfully and ſtrongly the Spirit of God may fometimes operate on
the Souls of Men, work off their Hearts and Inclinations from the Riches or the Plea-
fures
at White-Hall, February 12th, 1692-3.
65
fures of this Life, and change them unaccountably, and almoſt in an Inſtant; which
no one can deny has fometimes, in fome Cafes, happened; yet this is extraordinary,
and no where promiſed, and therefore no where to be looked for, or depended on; it is
like mighty, unexpected, undeferved Favours, to be accepted with all Joy and Thank-
fulneſs, and to be carefully improved to all Advantage; but it is what no one elſe muſt
look for, though in the fame Condition, and the fame Neceffity. The ordinary and
ufual Way is, arguing and enforcing People's Duties, by their proper Motives; fhewing
the Reaſonableneſs, Convenience, and Neceffity of their performing them; which muſt,
for its Effect, depend upon the Grace of God, and on the Will, Capacity, and Teach-
ableneſs of the Hearer: So that in the ordinary Converfion of a Sinner from the Evil of
his Ways, theſe Three are unavoidably concerned.
First, The Minifter muſt do his Part; which is to fhew the Unreaſonableneſs of the
Ways of Sin, the natural Turpitude, and unagreeable Deformity there is in Vice, how
oppofite it is to the natural Light within, and to the Dictates of our Confcience; how
prejudicial to them as they are Men, and live in this World, with refpect to bodily
Health, to Reputation and a good Name, and to their thriving in their Callings. Next
to the Reaſonableneſs of Virtue and Obedience, he can only fhew the Convenience
and Neceffity of complying with the Will of God; the Peace and Pleaſure, and Con-
tent of Mind that conſtantly attend the doing it, together with the ineffable, eternal
Recompence that follows it hereafter. Or, on the other hand, the Pain, Uneafineſs,
and terrible Anxiety of Heart, the Affliction of a fearful and fufpicious Mind, the Re-
proaches of Reaſon, the Remorfe of Confcience, and that Hell on Earth that con-
ſtantly attends the guilty, and the obftinately diſobedient, together with a fearful look-
ing-for of Judgment, that will certainly confign them over to Pains and Sorrows, that
will know no Meaſure, nor no End. This is all the Miniſter can do, to urge Men to
their Duties by their Fitneſs, by Promiſes and Threats, and by whatever other Motives
are contained in Holy Scriptures, to preſs them in, and out of Seaſon, and to contri-
bute all he can to their producing their Effect. And though there may be mighty
Difference in the Way and Manner of propofing Things, that fome Men do it much
more forcibly, and clearly, and convincingly than others, and in a much more ac-
ceptable Way; yet even the beſt of them can do no more than juſt propoſe, and lay
theſe Things before them; Paul may plant, and Apollos water, but it is from God that
the increaſe muſt come; there is both need of his preventing and affifting Grace, and
it is from him we muſt expect the Bleffing. It is certain, that without Him, of our-
felves we can do nothing; but it is as certain, that he never fails to give what Grace
is neceffary and fufficient for that Purpoſe, if Men will uſe their beſt Endeavours, and
employ his Gifts as he ſhall order and direct them. Where-ever any thing depends,
for its Effect, on God and Man, in Conjunction and Co-operation together, we may
be ſure that God is never wanting to perform his Part, if Man will but do his: and
though it may be difficult (in many Cafes utterly impoffible) for any one to know,
or to deſcribe the Methods and the Meaſures of God's Grace, in working on the
Hearts and Minds of People to Converfion; yet of this we may be ſure, that work
it does, unleſs we ourſelves put fome Hindrance or Impediment in its way; and of
this we may be alſo full as fure, that the Operations of his Grace and Holy Spirit, do
not at all depend upon our Knowledge or our Underſtanding, how and when they ope-
rate: And that therefore, there is no expecting or attending till it operate, that we
may ourſelves begin; for Grace, like the Kingdom of God, comes not by Obſerva-
tion; but we muſt do our Duty all that poffibly we can ourſelves, and God will not
be wanting. So that no one can excufe or cover his Continuance in Sin, upon Pre-
tence that the Grace of God will not help him out; that, for his part, he is very wil-
ling, and uſes his utmoſt Endeavours to extricate and diſentangle himſelf; but that
the
I R
66
A Sermon preached before the QUEEN,
up-
the Grace of God is wanting to him, without which he cannot ſtir. That is true,
that without the Grace of God he cannot extricate himſelf, but it neither is, nor can
be true, that, if he be himſelf willing, and uſes his utmoſt Endeavours, the Grace of
God will fail; for it is by God's Grace that he is willing, and by God's Grace that he
endeavours thus to free himſelf; for naturally, and of ourſelves, we are told, we can
neither will, nor do any thing of that kind; and the applying all fuch Arguments and
Motives to our Duty, as it hath pleaſed God to reveal to us, and the ufing all thoſe
Means and Inftruments which he diſcovers to us, and deſigns for thoſe good Purpo-
fes, is uſing and improving the Grace of God, that Grace that is ordinarily requifite
and neceſſary to Converfion: So that the Guilt at length will unavoidably devolve
on the Offender only. God cannot poffibly be wanting; the Prophet cannot eaſily,
(i.e.) fo far as to excufe the Offender; and therefore Men themſelves are only charge-
able, and they muſt look at home for their Converfion, or their Condemnation.
From all which it will appear, that though the Objection be fo far true, that it is the
Work of God's Word, and proper Buſineſs of the Preacher, to cure thefe Evils, to
remove theſe Obſtacles, and to fubdue theſe Lufts and evil Appetites that hinder the
Word of God from taking its Effect, and to reduce the diſobedient, and reclaim the
wandering Sinner from his evil Ways; yet it is by no means true, that it is derogato-
ry to the Grace of God, that it works. not forcibly and irreſiſtibly upon the Minds of
Men to their Converfion; nor to the Power of God's Word, in the Mouths and
Sermons of his Meſſengers and Prophets, that their Preaching and Endeavours prove
fo ineffectual and unedifying; fince all the Force they either do or can uſe, is natural
and moral Suafion; they can but ftir the Paffions and Affections, and work upon the
Reaſon and Underſtanding of People by fuitable and proper Arguments; and whether
they ſhall do that, depends very much upon the People themſelves; but whether,
when that is done, it ſhall prove effectual, (i, e.) ſhall influence them to Practice,
depends entirely on them: They can but, like Phyficians, preſcribe a true and proper
Medicine, and tell the Dangers of continuing in that evil State; but ſtill the Uſe and
Application of this Remedy depends, and will depend upon the Patient.
It remains, that I make an Inference or two from what hath been faid, and fo con-
clude. And,
First, Since it is plain from the conftant, ordinary, and ufual Method of God's
pro-
ceeding in the converting and changing the People's Minds, that they muſt, to make
them blameable and puniſhable by him, be at Liberty, whether they will receive In-
ſtruction or no, and practiſe afterwards what they ſhall be convinced becomes their Du-
ty; fince it is plain, I ſay, they muſt be at their Liberty, it is alſo plain, that the Fault
muſt lie upon themſelves, and that they have it in their Power to mend: And fince
all the Cauſes that either have been, or that can be reaſonably affigned for People's
Non-Proficiency, under the ordinary and ſtanding Miniftry of preaching, are fuch
as do entirely depend upon the People themſelves, there is no longer Time allowed for
their Enquiries why, and their Complainings that they do not edify and profit more:
For now the Power is in their Hands, and fuch a Power as may be for their Edifica-
tion, or Deſtruction: Life and Death is fet before them; the Bread of Life, the Word of
God, that, as they chuſe and uſe it, will be fure to prove either the Savour of Death
to Death, or elſe the Word of Everlaſting Life and Health: And therefore, there is
need of all their Care and Diligence in hearing and attending, treaſuring up, and
practiſing their Duties, that they may not come together for the worſe, but better.
As therefore every body owns they come to Church with a Deſign to hear, and be in-
ſtructed in what they know not; or to be put in mind of what they knew, but had
forgotten, and to be moved to practiſe it; fo the leaſt that they can do in common
Kindneſs to themſelves, is, to fee they do not loſe their Labour: But when it is more-
over
at White-Hall, February 12th, 1692-3.
67
over a Buſineſs of the greateſt Moment and Importance in the World they are about, they
are obliged undoubtedly to hear to purpoſe, and, to that End, to come with Minds
prepared to hear the Truth, and to receive it kindly, though it thwart their neareſt In-
tereſts, or their deareſt Inclinations; to lay afide all Prejudice and Prepoffeffion, either a-
gainſt Men's Perſons, or their Doctrines, and to attend alone to what is faid, and weigh
its Reaſonableneſs with Candour and Impartiality, according to the Truth, and its Con-
formity with Holy Scriptures. Men muſt not judge of either Prophets, or their Do-
ctrines, by their own Affections or Defires: They muſt not do as Ahab did by Micaiah;
I know, faith he, there is one Micaiah, the fon of Imlah, by whom we may enquire of the
Lord;
but I hate him, for he doth not prophefy good concerning me, but evil. The weak
Prince had no regard to theTruth at all, but had rather be deceived, than not pleaſed; and
hated him, becauſe he prophefied unacceptable Things. Men muſt not look to be in-
dulged in Things unlawful, and forbidden by God; or that his Meffage fhould not be
delivered openly and plainly, though it would wound their Ears, and pierce their
Hearts with many Sorrows. He ill becomes his Character, and little underſtands the
Nature or the Dignity of his Calling, that will for Intereft or Ambition, Fear or Fa-
vour, Love or Hate, diffemble in theſe Matters; and he is lamentably over-run
with Fondneſs to himſelf, that would be for the prefent cheated into Peace and falfe
Security, and knows it cannot laſt; but that his Dream will quickly end, and he shall
wake in laſting and ſubſtantial Mifery.
As it is the Prophet's Part to fay with that Micaiah, (when he was tempted to de-
lude the King with foft and pleaſing Prophecies) As the Lord liveth, what the Lord
faith unto me, that will I speak; fo is it to be the People's Part to anſwer, as the Chil-
dren of Ifrael did to Mofes, when he had been telling them all the Words and Judg-
ments of the Lord, All the words which the Lord hath faid, will we do, and be obe-
dient.
You are not to confider, whether what we fay be acceptable to Fleſh and Blood;
whether the Doctrines we deliver, be confiftent with your Profit, or your Pleaſure; whether
they croſs your Intereft, or your Inclination, nor any thing befides; but whether God
hath ſpoken by us; whether the Things we ſay be ſo, or no, in Holy Scriptures; whe-
ther the Duties we exhort to, be fo much your Intereft and Concern to follow and
perform as we perfuade; whether fuch Peace and Satisfaction here, and fuch eternal,
excellent Rewards hereafter, are affigned and promiſed to your Faith and
your Obedi-
ence; and whether ſuch amazing Puniſhments and Pains in everlaſting Fire are treaſu-
ed up againſt the Day of Wrath and Retribution for the Ungodly, Unbelievers, and
Impenitent. And if you find theſe Things are fo, you will make the Inference with
St. Peter; What manner of perfons ought you to be in all holy converfation and godliness?
And ſee the great Neceffity of complying with St. James's Advice, To lay a-part all
filthiness and fuperfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted Word,
which is able to fave your fouls. To be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your
own felves.
Secondly, If it was thus even with Ezekiel, and the other Meffengers of God, with
Mofes and the Prophets, with Chrift himſelf and his Difciples; if they had Reafon
to complain of their unkind Reception in the World, of the Hardneſs of People's
Hearts, and Unbelief, and of the little Fruit they found of all their Care and Labour
in Performance of their Offices; if Men were deaf to all their Charms, charmed
they never fo wifely, warmly, and affectionately; there is lefs need that any now a-
days, the faint and feeble Imitators of their Zeal and Virtue, ſhould complain of their
hard Fortune upon theſe Occafions. It is, in truth, a very great Diſcouragement
in itſelf, to fee fuch ardent Longings after People's Benefit, fuch zealous Profecutions
of it in fuch painful aud induſtrious manner, prove fo ineffectual as they oft-times do.
But
+
68
A Sermon preached before the QUEEN, &c.
But though it may be Matter of Complaint and Sorrow, yet it is none of Fear, or
of Repentance, when they do their Duty: They have theſe great Examples ſet before
them, as well for their Comfort, as their Imitation, that they ſhould follow them in
the careful and conſcientious Diſcharge of their great Office, and leave with them the
Iffue in the Hands of God; well knowing, that whatever be the Event, they ſhall be
judged with righteous Judgment, and ſhall receive a glorious Recompence at God's
Hand, for all their good Deſigns, and good Endeavours, although the Folly, or the.
Obſtinacy of ungodly People, may have fruſtrated them both.
The Labours of the Prophets have a Threefold End.-The Firſt, and beſt, and
moſt deſigned by God, is, The effecting his good Purpoſes in bringing People to Re-
pentance and Salvation. The Second is, The diſcharging of their Duties, and the
exemplifying their Obedience in the ſeveral Inftances of his Commands, and the ſaving
of their own Souls. The Third and laft, and the moſt lamentable one, is, The jufti-
fying God in his Judgments, and vindicating him in his Inflictions; that all Pretence
of Ignorance, and Inability, and Forgetfulneſs, may be deſtroy'd by their Inſtructions,
Admonitions, and Reproofs, and by their frequently repeated Cries and Calls, both in
and out of Seaſon, to Repentance, that Men may carry Condemnation in their Bo-
foms to the Day of Doom, and acquit their Judge before the World of Men and An-
gels. That they (as St. Auſtin ſomewhere fays, with which I will conclude) who will
not glorify God's Mercy in the Amendment of their Lives here, may glorify his Justice in
their Punishment hereafter.
A SER-
69
A
M
SERMON
Againſt Clipping, preached before the Right Ho-
nourable the Lord Mayor and Court of Al-
dermen, at Guild-Hall Chapel, on December
16th, 1694.
GENESIS XXIII. 16.
And Abraham weighed to Ephron the filver which he had named, in the
audience of the fons of Heth, four hundred ſpekels of filver, currant
money with the merchant.
A
FTER a generous Conteſt betwixt Ephron the Hittite, offering freely as a
Gift the cave of Machpelah, and Abraham handfomely refufing fo to take it,
but defiring earneſtly to purchaſe it for a poſſeſſion of a burying-place amongſt
them, at an appointed Price, it was agreed, That he should pay four hundred
Shekels of Silver for it. And Mofes tells us in the Text, That Abraham weighed to E-
phron, &c. Of which Words, the Ufe that I intend to make, at prefent, will be this,
to take occafion from them to confider, Firſt, The Uſe and Neceffity of Money to
the carrying on the Trade and Commerce of the World. Secondly, The Miſchiefs of
corrupting and debafing Money, the coining of bad Metal, or the clipping and ſteal-
ing from good. Thirdly, The Reaſonableneſs and Juſtice of the Laws that puniſh
fuch Offenders.
First, Of the Ufe and Neceffity of Money to the carrying on the Trade and Com-
merce of the World.
Men finding it, at firft, impoffible to fubfift of themſelves, and by the immediate
Product of their own Labours, were conſtrained to have recourſe to one another, to ſup-
ply their Wants: They carried what they had the greateſt Plenty of, and beſt could
ſpare, to purchaſe what they needed moſt, at another's Hands; who gave them what
they came for, in Confideration of what they brought, if he found it valuable with o-
thers, or uſeful to himſelf.
This was, it is agreed, the Way Men took at firſt, in the Infancy of Time and
Trade, to furniſh themſelves with the Neceffaries, and fome of the Conveniencies of
Life, by bartering and exchanging one Commodity for another.
But this was found to be very inconvenient, upon the Account of its being difficult
to agree upon the Price and Value of what each had in his Poffeffion; and the
Trouble of carrying and tranſporting Goods and Cattle from Place to Place, and
lofing oftentimes their Pains and Labour, by reaſon that no one wanted what they
brought, nor would exchange, unleſs they would part with it to their great Lofs.
And therefore, to prevent theſe Inconveniencies, it was agreed upon (we know not
when, nor how, exactly) that ſomething ſhould be uſed in common by them all,
with which they ſhould be able to purchaſe every Thing they wanted, from another;
I S
and
१०
A Sermon against CLIPPING,
and by which they might rate and value all Things that they had themfelves:
To fet up (in a word) fome one particular Thing, to be the common Meaſure of the
Worth and Price of every Thing befides: And this was to be fomething that was por-
table, for Eaſe and Convenience; fomething durable, that it might not by conſtant
Uſe wear foon away; and fomething not over-fcarce, nor over-common; and fome-
thing, laſtly, that was beautiful. All theſe Qualities concurring in Metals, ſuch as Braſs
and Copper, Silver and Gold, they were each of them pitched upon, by feveral Nati-
ons, according to the Plenty, or the Scarcity they had of them, to ferve to all the above-
named Purpoſes: And this great Thing that was to counter-balance (and as the Preach-
er fays it does, Eccl. x. 19.) to answer all things elfe, was what we now call Money.
How long this Thing has been in Practice in the World, is of no great Uſe to en-
quire; the mention of it in the Text, is older than we can find in any Book beſides,
by at leaſt ſeven hundred Years, and yet there is no doubt but Money was uſed before
the Days of Abraham. But what is to our purpoſe to obferve, is, That it was valued
both by the Buyer and Seller, according to its Weight; and all the Money that was re-
ceived, was firſt weighed, as being the only Means to remedy the former Inconveni-
encies; for by this, a Man was fure that he received fo much Money as he rated his
Goods at, and with which he might purchaſe as much of what he wanted, as he could
have had in Exchange for his Goods, without the Trouble and Hazard of carrying
them up and down. For Money is the common Pawn or Pledge, that one Man takes,
in hopes of parting with it to another, for what he wants, whenever he fees fit. But
this could never be, unleſs its Weight were certain and determined. It is therefore
fure, that Weight is Men's Security, and the true intrinfick Worth of Money.
But becauſe it was too troubleſome, and took up too much Time, to carry Scales,
and weigh whatever they received, Men found it convenient to have a Stamp or Mark
ſet upon every Piece, to fignify its Weight and Value; by which Men knew what they
received or paid away, with little or no Trouble.
Yet ſomething ſtill was wanting to ſecure the Truth of Payments: Men might be
fraudulent and falſe, and bring their Money, truly marked and ftamped, and of a juft
Weight, but of fomewhat a baſer Metal, and more Alloy than it ſhould truly be; by
which a Trader ſhould receive as much for Quantity and Denomination as he ought,
but not of equal Fineneſs and Goodneſs with the current Coin. To guard Men therefore
againſt all theſe Miſchiefs, and to keep them from doing and receiving Injuries, and
from impofing upon one another, and to fecure Trade, it was judged abfolutely necef-
fary to intruſt the Kings and Governors of Nations with the Care and Charge of Coining
all the publick Money. For who are ſo fit as they, who are prefumed to be the Fathers
of their People, the Men of greateſt Honour and Integrity, who are the moſt concern-
ed, and have the moſt to win or lofe, and who are appointed and ſet up by God and
Man, for no other End and Purpoſe than to confult, procure, and conferve the
gene-
ral Good of their reſpective People? Who are fo fit as they to have this Charge com-
mitted to them, that is of fuch Importance; and fo univerſal a Concern? So that now
we have the publick Faith and Confcience, Intereſt and Honour, all engaged to ſecure
to the Receiver the Weight and Fineness of every fingle Piece of Money. The Heads
of Princes are not only ſtamped for Ornament and Honour, and to declare who are
and have been Governors of fuch a Nation, but publickly to vouch the true intrinfick
Worth of every Piece, and tell Men that they there receive ſo much Silver, and of fuch
a Fineneſs, and that that Image warrants it: And for this Cauſe it has been always
highly penal to counterfeit the publick Stamp, and to coin Money, though of equal
Weight and Goodneſs with the King's: Not that any great Evil is hereby done to any
Man, but that if this were indulged to private People, the World would fall again in-
to Diftruft and Fear, into Sufpicion and Uncertainty about their Money, and return
anew to weighing and trying all they took.
This
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Decemb. 16. 1694.
71
This is the ſhort Account and Hiftory of Money. Neceflity (which
grows continu-
grows
ally, and will do ſo to the World's End) first introduced the Uſe of it; and it could not be
ufeful but by being the common Standard and Meaſure of the Price and Worth of every
Thing befides; and it could not be this, but by being of fuch a certain and determined
Weight and Fineness; and of this we could not be fecure, without much Pains and
Trouble, but by entruſting the Coinage of it to Kings, and fuch as they commiffio-
nate and appoint, to fee that the Commonwealth receive no Damage.
II. We are now, in the Second Place, to fee the Miſchiefs of corrupting and deba-
fing Money, the coining bad Metal, and the clipping and ftealing from good.
The coining even of good Metal and full Weight, is (we have ſeen above) of ill Ex-
ample, and of ill Confequence, when done by private People, and without Authori-
ty, becauſe it lays the Way open to Deceit and Fraud, and takes away the Truft and
Security Men have in the Prince's faithful and honeft dealing with them, and brings
them again to a State of Jealoufy and Caution each of one another. But, to be fure,
the coining of bad Metal muſt be miſchievous: Juſt ſo much Miſchief and Injury
muſt needs be done to every individual Man that takes it, as there is wanting of the
ufual Weight and Fineness in each fingle Piece. Suppofe, for Inftance, Men fhould
mix one third of baſer Metal with their Silver, and put it off for good and true, and
fuch as it pretends to be; it is manifeft, that every one receiving ſuch a Piece would
be impofed upon, and loſe one third of what he ought to have: For the publick Faith
engages, that every Man receiving a Piece of fuch a Mark and Denomination, ſhall
receive in it ſo much Silver and of fuch a Fineness; and here a Man receives but twenty
Pence for Half a Crown, whoſe Stamp proclaims it is to go for thirty. The Cafe in-
deed is not fo well as I put it, for they who coin falfe Money, give us neither a fifth
nor fixth
part of good Silver; and all that is wanting is ſo much Cheat and real Injury:
So that that impudent Demand of who is hereby wronged? can find no Place; for
one is wronged that takes this Money, and every one is actually a Lofer, more or leſs,
by reaſon it quickly ftops, and is not current: Here every body fees and feels the In-
jury; and if it falls upon the poor and labouring Man, he loſes, it may be, his Day's
Work, and the Family its Subfiftence and Proviſion: But I put the Caſe ſo fair, that I
may not multiply Particulars, but join the Clipping of good Money with the Coining
of bad, and mixing bafer Metal with Silver: For if Half a Crown be clipped
to twenty Pence, it is equal to Half a Crown not clipped, that has but twenty Pence of
Silver in it; and the Injury to private People is the fame; and therefore I confider
them as one and the fame Offence, in that they both alike defraud the Receiver of what
is his due, for there the Injustice lies: That is the Sin at the Bottom; there is ſo much
ſtolen from every Man, as there is leſs given him than he ſhould receive.
+
every
And this adminifters occafion to People, either Strangers or Natives, to cheat us
even with true Silver; for they may fecretly coin us (as it is probable they do) a great
deal of true Silver, but not of full Weight, and putting it off under the fhelter of
clipped Money, do gain thereby at leaſt one third. Now no one gains but what ano-
ther loſes in fuch Bargains. By this the Foreigners (that are but dextrous and will ven-
ture) have opportunity of purchafing what Commodities they pleaſe, and paying us
with little Money, for which they muſt otherwiſe (were there no Money clipped) give
us good Silver, and full Weight, either of theirs, or our own Coin.
Thus Clipping lays us open to the Cheats and Injuries of all the World, as well as of
our own People. I do not fay that Strangers do, but that they may improve the Villany
and Injuſtice of our own Clippers, to their own Advantage, and to our farther Miſchief;
and it is a Wonder if they do not: For it is not very likely that one Nation ſhould raiſe
the Value of its Money above its true intrinſick Worth (which is indeed its Weight and
Fine-
72
A Sermon against CLIPPING,
Fineneſs) but that its Neighbours will have ſome Advantage by it, by importing Money
of the like Weight with that which goes current. Now the paffing of Money clip-
ped, for Money of juſt Weight, is, in effect and truth, raifing our Money, and ma-
king that to go for Thirty Pence, which is indeed but worth Twenty. And therefore
there is, at leaſt, fome hazard of Foreigners coining and importing Money of equal
Weight and Fineneſs with our own, which cannot poffibly be done, without our great
prejudice: Now this could never come to paſs without our clipping, for that alone it
is that gives them opportunity; that is the Handle they may take their hold of: And
if we do not fee Money of this kind paſs commonly about, it is no Argument that
there is none imported from Abroad, nor coined at Home; for a little Art is fufficient
(they fay) to cover that Deceit, and make it pafs for old.
Well, but the Money paffes ftill for good and currant Coin, and where is then the
Miſchief? a little Shilling buys as much as a great one, and the Name and Character of
Pieces are as good a Standard and Meaſure of the Price and Worth of all things elfe, as
if they were full Weight, and anfwered to their Name and Character; and
therefore where is the Offence and Injury? Who is hereby wronged? This
indeed is the laft Refort of all the Patrons of this Practice; the Refuge to which
the Guilty fly themſelves, and the Confideration that ftirs the People's Pity at
their Sufferings; they think that hereby none is injured; but this is a Miſtake,
for every one is injured more or lefs by Clipping, The Merchant that exports leſs
Goods from Home, than he imports from abroad, muſt unavoidably diſcharge the Over-
balance with good Money; this he can never do with clipped, for it is not Cæfar's Face
and Titles, but Weight and Goodness that procure Credit: And if a Foreigner Import
more of his Country Goods than he carries away of ours, the Over-balance muſt be
paid in weighty Money, for the clipped will not go abroad: Now, if the Exporta-
tion of our weighty Money (which is only now the milled) be a Miſchief to the Na-
tion, we ſee it is occafioned chiefly by the clipping: for if the old were of the fame due
Weight with the new (as it is before theſe Thieves ſteal from it) the new and old would
be exported alike; and then the Complaint would only be of the Exportation of Mo-
ney in general; which whether it be good or evil to a Nation, I have nothing to ſay:
Only one cannot help feeing, that as there is Law on one fide, fo there is unavoida
ble Neceffity on the other, if we import more foreign Goods than we carry out of our
own Kingdom. I am only concerned to fay, that if exporting our new Money be a
Miſchief, it is owing eſpecially to the clipping of the old; and that therefore clipping
is injurious. And if we do not give theſe Foreigners our weighty Money in Exchange
for their Commodities, becauſe we cannot get it, yet we muſt give them Goods pro-
portionably more or better; they will not be Lofers by our clipping: They will either
contract for Money of full Weight (if they be to carry Money home, or to another
trading Country) or for proportionable Allowance, in the Goods they take for what
they bring. And what is the Conſequence of a Merchant's paying more for what he
buys of a Foreigner, but that he will aſk a better Price of the Retailer? And the
Confequence of that muſt needs be, that every one that buys muſt make amends for
the Defect of clipped Money. And thus the Injury is univerfal; all that confume
Commodities of foreign Growth or Make, are affected more or lefs by this firft Injury;
but becauſe the Miſchief is fo general, and diffuſed, and at ſuch diſtance and remove,
Men either think not at all, or but flightly of it.
An Inſtance, it may be, will make the Matter plain to every one. Suppoſe then
hat a Foreigner import (and it is the fame Thing as if we fetched) from abroad, Goods
to the Value of thirty thouſand Pounds; but it is Silver only, and not Goods, that he
will have in Exchange for what he brings: You are therefore fure, that he means not
thirty thouſand Pounds in clipped Money, for that he fees is no more worth than twen-
ty;
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Decemb. 16. 1694.
73
ty; and you may call it how, or what you pleaſe, at home, but it is not, as the Text
expreffes it, money currant with the merchant; i. e. with one that trades abroad, unleſs it
be of full Weight. The Commerce therefore is at an end, unleſs you can procure him full
Money; which being impoffible, (we may well enough fuppofe it fo, for fo it will
fhortly be, without all peradventure) it muſt be made up of the clipped, and then he
receives what is but as Thirty to him, but it may be very near Forty from us.
And
who muſt make up this, but we that buy theſe Goods at fecond, or third, or farther
hand? The Merchant will not fell that for Thirty which coft him Forty, we may be
fure; and therefore it is evident, to a Demonſtration, That every one pays proportio-
nably more for what he buys, by reaſon of clipping, and therefore every one is cheat-
ed by it, and cheated conftantly, although he mind not the Particulars.
This Evil is indeed avoided, where Foreigners will take our clipped Money, in affu-
rance of putting it off again, for Goods they want to carry Home; but it is only a-
voided for the prefent; the Nation will unquestionably feel it, e'er long, to their great
fmart; the Puniſhment is indeed deferred, but every one knows that that is no Ac-
quittance.
Suppoſe a little farther, that a Company of ill-defigning People ſhould buy up all
the Plate`in London, and pay for it in clipped Money; the Goldfmiths will by theſe
Means give more away than they receive, by at leaſt one third of Sterling Silver. This
opens the way to their prodigious Lofs; for if the Money ſhould be called in then,
(and why not then, as well as any time after or befides?) they muſt undoubtedly be
Lofers fo much by it; and why ſhould any Body of Men be fo expoſed to Ruin, by
fuch Villany? Well, but they are content to traffick at this rate; yes, and ſo muſt e-
very one befides, by a ſtrong Neceffity; but it is ftill in Hopes that they fhall pafs a-
way what they receive, at the fame Price: But will not this Hope periſh ſome time
or other? Yes, unquestionably; but becauſe we know not when, we do not value
it.
of Time, an Injury and
never fear a Miſchief for
What makes Men plant,
But is not Clipping, notwithſtanding this Uncertainty
Piece of Theft? Becauſe we do not feel at preſent, do we
the future? We think not fo weakly in any other Cafe.
in their Eſtates, the Trees, they know that they ſhall never reap the Fruits of? What
makes them build the Houfes, that will laft for many Generations after they are dead
and gone, but the Care and Concern they have for their Pofterity, that it
may be
well with their Children, and with their Childrens Children after them? We fee Men
guard, in all their Contracts, as much againſt Evils to come, as thoſe that are pre-
fent, or near at hand. If a Man fhould undermine our Houfe, we fhould not be
content and eaſy, although the Men of Skill ſhould affure us, it would laſt and ſtand
our Time, with all Security; we ſhould be fearful that it might not do fo; or if it
fhould, we ſhould be careful for our Children.
Whoever lays the Foundation of our Miſery, does then begin to make us miſerable,
though we may not feel it for ſome time after. So when we decline towards old Age,
we often find ourſelves pained and diſeaſed, with the Strains that happened in Youth,
and vigorous Exerciſes, which then were over-looked and quite neglected. No one
can tell exactly when this Miſchief will break out, and what the Effects will be; but
let them be as kind as they can, they will be very heavy to the Nation. When once
the Sufpicion of calling in this Money fhall appear, there will unavoidably be a fud-
den Stop of Trade, among Retailers, for fome time; for no one will receive what he
is fure to loſe by; and this, though it be ſhort, will yet be hard and grievous to mean
People, and fuch as live by the Day, who will not know how to find themſelves
and Families with Neceffaries for fome Space of Time, till Money get into its old
Current,
I T
This
74
A Sermon against CLIPPING,
This Miſchief may appear fhort and inconfiderable; but be it fo, what is the Good
that counter-balances it? What need is there of any Miſchief? Why ſhould theſe
Villains hazard the Diſtreſs and Mifery of poor and labouring People, though it were
but for a Week? The common People then, will fee and feel the Injury and Mif-
chief that is done by Clipping, which now they cannot underſtand, or will not well
confider. They will find that the little Money they then have, will not go for more
than its juſt Weight; and be convinced by Hunger and Thirſt, that Clippers are as
truly Thieves and Robbers, as thoſe they find upon the Highways, or breaking up
their Houſes, and do as well deſerve their Chains and Halters.
And who can tell whether every fingle Perſon muſt not bear his own Burthen, and
ſtand to the Lofs of all that is wanting of due Weight, of all the Money he is Maſter
of? And if he muft, the Cry will be like that of Egypt, loud and univerfal, for
every Family will be a Lofer: But it will fall fevereft on the Poor, who from a little
can ſpare none.
One of our Hiftorians [W. Hemingford, Anno 1180.] tells us, that in Henry the IId's
Time, the Money of the Kingdom was fo corrupt, that it was fain to be changed and
called in: It was indeed neceffary, but it fell exceeding hard upon the Poor and Coun-
try-People. So it was alſo in the Time of Henry the IIId upon calling in the old and
clipped Money [M. Paris, Anno 1248.] by Proclamation, the People were more di-
ftreffed than if Corn had been at half a Crown a Buſhel (which was then, I believe,
equal to twelve or fourteen Shillings now) for the new Money was not yet come to
their great Towns; and when it was, they received no more new, than their old came
to by Weight; paying alfo, over and above, thirteen Pence in the Pound for Coinage;
fo that befides the Lofs of Time, and the great Charge they were at, to come to the
ſeveral Places of Exchange, they were fent away with hardly twenty Shillings, for
every thirty that they brought along with them. Artabatur Populus non mediocriter
damnificatus. The People were ſtraitned, and received no ſmall Damage; they loſt,
you fee, one third. The Poor ftill fuffered moſt, and ſo it will always be; for a ſmall
Weight is heavy to the weak and faint; and a little Lofs grievous to fuch as have but
little.
Neither, lastly, is the Evil far removed, although the Publick bear the Lofs, for eve-
ry Man is Part and Parcel of the Publick.
And if the Mint receive the little Money in, and deliver out good and full, yet muſt
it needs be that theſe Particulars muſt fill the Exchequer, in return for what they
have received of new Money. That is, a general Tax muſt anſwer for the Robberies
of theſe Villains; the good and innocent, the careful and induſtrious People, muſt
contribute to the making up the Loſs the Publick ſuſtains by the Injuſtice and Theft
of Clippers. And how ſoon this will be, no one can tell; but by the haſte that is made
to make it neceffary, it cannot well be far off.
I have ſpoken exceeding modeftly and moderately, when I fuppofed we were only
cheated of one third. I did it to make the Caſe plain; for every one fees, that near
to half is taken away, which opens the Paffage to a Sufpicion, that Covetousness as
well as Luxury, is at the Bottom, in the Crime of Clipping; and that ſome People
will grow Rich thereby, as well as others feed their Vices and Neceffities: For it does
not ſeem very probable that ſo much Money ſhould be ſpent by thoſe poor and mean
Wretches, who are commonly diſcovered to live by this unjuſt and wicked Practice:
The Sum is much too big for them; and one cannot well account, how almoſt all the
old Silver that circles round the Nation, ſhould come into theſe Clippers Hands in the
Compaſs of a few Years.
But with this I have little to do. It is enough to anfwer my Deſign and Purpoſe,
if I have fhewn you with any Clearneſs, the Miſchiefs of corrupting and debafing Mo-
ney,
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Decemb. 16. 1694.
75
ney, the coining bad Metal, and the clipping and ftealing from good; for then the
Way is open to the Juftification of the Laws that are made to puniſh fuch Offenders:
which was the Third and laft Particular.
III. Nothing can juſtify the Severity of legal Puniſhments, but their Neceffity; and
nothing evidences this Neceffity, like the Sight and Knowledge of thoſe Evils and Mif-
the
chiefs the Laws defign to prevent as well as puniſh: And therefore the laying open
Injuries and Miſchiefs of Clipping and Coining, is the readieſt Way to clear the Reaſon
and Juſtice of fuch Laws, as doom to Death fuch Malefactors.
This I have been already trying to do; and though there is no doubt, but the Men
of Skill and Experience inTrade and Money-matters, can ſee more Miſchiefs than I men-
tion, rifing from theſe Practices, yet certainly thefe mentioned are fufficient to acquit
our Laws from being cruel or unjuft. For what can Laws do lefs, than fecure the Ho-
nour of the Nation (which is much concerned in the Goodneſs and Weight of its cur-
rent Coin) with reſpect to Foreigners, and juſt and righteous Dealing with one another at
home? And if nothing less than Death will ferve to theſe good Ends, then putting
Men to Death for Clipping and Coining is neither cruel nor unjuft. And though
more Pity ufually attends thefe Criminals than others, yet the Laws have not therefore
leſs of Reaſon and Equity, that condemn them; nor is their Fault lefs heinous in its
ſelf, or miſchievous to others. But our Pity ariſes from hence, That we fee Men go-
ing to fuffer Death for a Crime, by which we know of none that are undone, or great-
ly injured; the Evil is unfixed and undetermined, and we cannot put ourſelves into
their Condition who are hurt by theſe Offenders, as we can and do in other Cafes,
which excites our Indignation. Thus when a Thief breaks in upon a Houſe and
ſteals, we are immediately ſenſible both of the Fright and Injury which a particular
Perfon feels; and the Concern we have for him and his Family, that may be undone
by the Robbery, counter-balances our Pity for the Criminal. Self is more nearly
touched, for this may be the Cafe of every honeft Man, and therefore Fear for our
Selves and Families, as in danger of being ruined by the like Villany, outweighs our
Pity to a Felon. But in the Cafe of falfe Coinage or Clipping, we think immediate-
ly only of a Damage to the Treafury, which we efteem above our Pity: Or we
conceive a Damage publick and general, which excites no pitiful Reſentments in us,
becauſe we have our Eye on no particular Man as ruined or undone thereby.
But the Remembrance of what hath been aboveſaid, of the Miſchiefs that are truly
done, both to the Publick, and to almoſt all Particulars, will change this ill-placed
and miſtaken Pity, and transfer it to thoſe, that fuffer Want and Miſery by theſe ill
Practices, although we do not know them in particular; for it is impoffible that fo
much Miſchief ſhould be done, but ſome or other muſt ſuffer by it.
But to fhew you that our Laws are neither cruel nor unjuft in this Affair, it is fuf-
ficient to ſay, that they agree with the Laws of almoſt all Nations, which ſeldom do
confpire in bloody and inhuman Executions.
a
The Romans confidered this Crime of Clipping and Coining, generally ſpeaking, as
High-Treafon: They made exact Enquiries after theſe Offenders: They tortured Men
to confeſs their Accomplices: They allowed Rewards and Privileges to fuch as would
impeach
L. II. 9. Th. Cod. Tit. 21. Conftantinus ad Januarium.
a Quoniam nonnulli Monetarii adulterina moneta, clandeftinis fceleribus exercent, cuncti cognofcant, ne-
ceffitatem fibi incumbere hujufmodi homines inquirendi, ut inveſtigati tradantur Judiciis, facti conſcios
per tormenta illico prodituri, ac fic dignis fuppliciis addicendi. 2. Accufatoribus etiam eorum immunitatem
permittimus; cujus modus, quoniam difpar cenfus eft, a Nobis per fingulos ftatuetur. Servos etiam qui hoc
detulerint, Civitate Romanâ donamus, ut eorum domini precium à Fifco percipiant. 3. Si quis autem Mili-
tum hujuſmodi Perfonam fufceptam, de cuftodia exire fecerit, Capite puniatur. 4. Appellandi etiam pri-
vato licentia denegetur, fi vero Miles aut Promotus hujufmodi crimen incurrit, fuper ejus nomine & gradu ad
nos referatur. 5. Si dominum fundi vel domus confcium effe probabitur, deportari eum in infulam oportebit,
cunctis
76
A Sermon against CLIPPING,
impeach; if they were Slaves, they were fet at Liberty, and the Exchequer paid their
Ranfom to their Mafters: If one of theſe Offenders efcaped out of Cuftody, his Keeper,
if privy to it, certainly died for him: If the Mafter or Owner of the Houſe or Place
where fuch Offence was committed, were confcious to the Thing, although not
actually employed himſelf, he forfeited his Houſe, Goods, and Eſtate, and was him-
ſelf tranſported; and if he knew nothing of the Matter, yet he forfeited his Houſe,
unleſs he made himſelf the firſt diſcovery to the Magiſtrate (to oblige them, I fuppofe,
to greater Caution whom they trufted in their Houſes.) All Servants, Helpers, and
Affiſtants, were alſo condemned to die, as well as the principal Agent: And the Death
they often underwent, was being burnt. And yet the Romans b were as fparing of
Blood, and as merciful in their Executions as any Nation whatever.
C
The Laws of the Wifigoths puniſhed theſe Kind of Offenders, if they were Slaves,
with the Loſs of their Right Hand; if they were Freemen, with the Lofs of half
their Eſtates, and being made Slaves to whom the King pleaſed.
The Laws of our own Country in King Athelstan's d Time, puniſhed them (as
above) with the cutting off their Right Hand, and fixing them over the Place where
they committed the Offence. In King Ethelred's Days they were to undergo the
Treble Ordeal (i. e. to carry a red-hot Iron of three Pound Weight in their Hands fuch
a determined ſpace of Ground) and if they miſcarried there, they were to die. In
• Henry the Ift's Time they were condemned to lofe, fome their Hands, and ſome their
Eyes:
C
cunctis ejus rebus protinus confifcandis: Si vero eo ignaro crimen commiffum eft, poffeffionem aut domum
debet amittere in qua id fcelus admiflum eft. Actor fundi, vel fervus, vel Incola, vel Colonus qui hoc mini-
ſterium præbuit cuin eo qui fecit, fupplicio capitali plectetur, nihilominus fundo, vel domo fifci viribus vindi-
canda. 6. Quod fi Dominus ante ignorans, ut primum repperit, fcelus prodidit perpetratum, minime pof-
feffio vel Domus ipfius profcriptionis injuriæ fubjacebit: Sed auctorem ac miniftrum pœna Capitalis excipiet.
Dat. 12. Kal. Decemb. Rom. Crifpo. 2. & Conftantino. 2. CC. Coff. [321.]
L. I. Cod. Th. Tit. 22. Imp. Conftantinus, Leontio, P. P.
b Omnes Solidi in quibus noftri vultus ac veneratio una eft, uno pretio æftimandi funt atque vendendi,
quanquam diverfa formæ menfura fit: Nec enim qui majore habitu faciei extenditur, majoris eft pretii; aut
qui anguftiore expreffione concluditur, minoris haberi credendus eft, cum pondus idem exiftat. Quod fi quis
aliter fecerit, aut capite puniri debet, aut flammis tradi, aut alia puena mortifera. Quod ille etiam patietur,
qui menfuram Circuli exterioris adraferit, ut ponderis minuat quantitatem: Vel figuratum folidum adultera
imitatione in vendendo fubjecerit. Dat. 7. Kal. Aug. Gallicano & Baſſo Coſſ. [317.]
C
< Rerum Hifpanic. Tom. III. Pag. 957.
a Si monetarius reus fuerit, amputetur ei manus, & ponatur fuper monetæ fabricam. Si inculpatio fit, & fe
purgare velit, eat ad Ferrum calidum, & adlegiet manum ad Canfaram (candens ferrum) quod non falfum
fecit. Si in Ordalio reus fuerit, fiat ei quod fupradictum eft. Leg. Athelftani, R. Jo. Brompton. p. 843.
Et omnis Monetarius qui accufabitur quod falfum fecit, poftquam interdictum fuit, adeat Triplex Ordalium,
& fi culpabilis fit, occidatur. Leg. Ethelredi, R. 11, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30. p. 898.
eam.
De correctione Pecuniæ, ut una moneta per totas has nationes fine omni falſo teneatur, & nemo repudict
Et qui pofthac falfabit manum, perdat unde fecerit; & nec argento, aut auro, vel ullo modo redima-
Si præpofitus accufetur quod ejus licentia quis falfum fecerit, purget fe triplici lada; quod fi purgationem
fregerit, inde judicium habeat quod qui falfum compofuit. Leg. Canuti, R. 30. p. 923.
tur.
Quicunque falfam Monetam, fe fciente fecerit, aut ftudiofe expenderit, tanquam Maledictus, & Pauperum
Oppreffor, & Turbator Civitatis à Fidelium Confortio feparetur. Concil. Roman. A. D. 1123.
Monetam quoque corruptam & falfam fub tanta animadverfione corrigi ftatuit, ut nullus qui poffet depre-
hendi falfos denarios facere, aliqua redemptione, quin Oculos, & inferiores Corporis partes perderet, juvari
valeret. Simeon Dunelm. A. 1108.
Joh. Brompton (p. 1000.) places it in Anno 1103. and fays they were to lose both their Eyes; ſo does H.
de Knyghton. 2377.
Chron. Saxon. An. 1125.
• Hoc anno, mifit Rex (Hen. I.) ante Chrifti Feftum, de Normannia in Anglorum Terram, & juffit omnes
Monetarios qui erant in Anglia, privari membris; ſcilicet quemque dextra manu, & teſticulis; quod factum
eft, quoniam qui habuit Libram, non potuit ullam rem mercari uno iftius denario, in quovis foro. Tunc Ro-
gerus Epifcopus Sarisburienfis mifit per totam Angliam, & juffit eos omnes intereffe Wintonia ad Chrifti Feftum.
Cum eo perveniffent, fevocati fuerunt figillatim, & præciffa erat cuique dextra manus ac tefticuli. Totum
hoc factum eft intra duodecim feſti Natalium dies, & quidem jure Optimo, quippe damnum maximum intu-
liffent toti genti tantam vim metalli vitiofi coemendo.
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Decemb. 16. 1694.
77
Eyes: And fome (in Allufion to the Word) who were found to adulterate the King's
Coin, were fo puniſhed as if the Laws intended to prevent Adultery it felf: As appears
in our Hiſtories of thoſe Timesf. Theſe Puniſhments were after changed into the Mo-
dern Executions 8, and have fo continued ever fince, although it is probable that Puniſh-
ments of greater Pain and conftant Shame, ſuch as they heretofore were, would fecure
us better, than putting Men to a fhort and eafy Death.
Thus much I think may fuffice to vindicate our Laws from the Reproach of being
cruel or unjuſt; and (if Men will but well confider) to wean them from that foft
per-
nicious Tenderneſs, that fometimes certainly reſtrains the Hand of Juſtice, flackens
the Care and Vigilance of Magiftrates, keeps back the Under-Officers, corrupts the
Juries (for Paffions and Affections bribe as well as Gifts) and with-holds the Evidence,
both from appearing and from ſpeaking out, when they appear. Theſe are the ill
Effects of a weak and undue Compaffion, fhewn eſpecially to theſe Kind of Offenders,
which help (it is more than likely) to increaſe their Number, and the Mifery of
honeſt People, and therefore ſhould be better thought upon by fuch as are fo concer-
ned.
And now, if I have fhewn you (as I thought to do) that this Offence is fruitful of
Miſchiefs; that it diſhonours the Kingdom, and does apparently damnify every parti-
cular Man, and will do more and more fo, and fall at laſt with a moft deadly Weight
ſomewhere or other, and, to be fure, with greater Violence on the Poor and Mean,
who are leaſt able to endure it; if this be manifeft, our Laws and Executions are not
only cleared from all their Imputations, but I have alfo found out, for theſe Wretches,
a fufficient Ground and Bottom for Repentance, which they, it ſeems, are generally ig-
norant of: They can fee they have offended againſt the Laws and Statutes of the King-
dom, and can acknowledge that their other Sins and Offences have betrayed them to
theſe Practices, but they cannot fee the Juftice of thofe Laws, nor the Wickedneſs
of theſe Practices: They can be forry for their great Misfortune, but they know not
how to repent of Clipping and Coining, as Sins againſt God or their Neighbour; and
therefore however guilty they may be in other refpects, yet the Senfe of theſe Offences
affects them little or nothing. All this pretended Innocence depends (as I have fhewn)
on this Miſtake, that No One is injured hereby; and they prefume that no one is injured,
becauſe they deſign the Injury of no particular one, nor know of any that is injured by
it: The Evil that is done is unfixed and undetermined to Time, or Place, or Perfon,
and therefore they conclude that none is truly done. If theſe were not their private
Conceits, why ſhould not they conclude themſelves as guilty of Theft and Fraud, and
I U
Matth. Paris. A. 1248. H. 3.
of
f Ipfis quoque diebus Moneta Anglia, per deteftabiles Tonfores & Falfarios adeò intolerabiliter eft corrupta,
quod non Indigenæ vel etiam Alienigenæ eam Oculo recto, vel illæfo corde poterant intueri. Circum-
cidebatur enim fere ufque ad interiorem circulum, limbo literato totaliter vel deleto, vel enormiter deturpato.
Præceptum eft igitur voce Præconiâ, in Civitatibus, Burgis, Nundinis & Foris, ex parte D. Regis [H. 3.]
nequis denarius nifi legitimi ponderis, & circularis formæ acciperetur, nec quoque modo a vendente vel emen-
te vel commutante acceptaretur, punirenturque hujufmodi præcepti tranfgreffores. Adhibita eft etiam diligentia,
ut memorati falfarii invenirentur, ut de tanto fcelere convicti, condigna poena judicialiter punirentur. Facta
igitur diligentiffima inquifitione, inventi funt in hoc facinore culpabiles Judei, Caurfini infames, & quidam
Mercatores lanarum Flandrenfes. Juffit etiam D. Rex Francorum omnes tales in Regno fuo compertos pa-
tibulis laqueatos vento præſentari.
There is fomething remarkable in this Paffage, namely, that it was made Penal for any one to take or receive
any clipped Money; which, if we had obferved fome Years ago, we had not been in the deplorable Condition we are
now in, in that refpect.
Hen. Knyghton. p. 2463. A. 1282. Ed. I.
8 Rex tenuit Parliamentum fuum Londoniis, & fecit mutare monetam Regni, quæ illo tempore fuit viliter
retonfa, & abbreviata, unde Populus Regni graviter conquerebatur, & Rex veritatem inde inquirens, & verita-
tem comperiens, trecentos & plures, de illo delicto & felonia publicè convicit, quorum quidam fuerunt ſuſ-
penfi, quidam diftracti & fufpenfi, fecundum delicti qualitatem & quantitatem,
78
A Sermon against CLIPPING, &c...
:
of Injuſtice, as much as any other Robbers, and confequently repent as throughly and
fincerely of them? But it will not follow, that becauſe a Man either forgets or knows
not whom he has injured, that he has therefore injured none, nor needs to repent or
make amends. For if a Man ſhould, in the Courſe of his Calling, ſet aſide the Fear
of God, and all Regard to Honefty and Juſtice, and make his Advantage of People's
Ignorance and Simplicity, their Eafinefs, or Want of Underſtanding, and cheat them
all he could, without intending to cheat any one Particular more than another, it will
not follow that he has cheated none, becauſe he intended to cheat no Particular; nor
will it follow that he has cheated no more than he remembers to have cheated; nor
will it follow that he is obliged to repent of no more Injuſtice than he can call to
mind done to Particulars; nor will it follow that he is not obliged to Reftitution and
Amendmemt, becauſe he has cheated more than he remembers. The Man knows
very well that he defigned his own Advantage all the while, and had no Confideration
of the Means; and knows that a great deal of Wrong muſt needs be done, and that he
did it; and knows that a great deal of Wrong calls for a great deal of Sorrow, and a
great deal of Satisfaction. And this is certainly the Coiners and the Clippers Caſe, which
requires as full and true Repentance as any other Robbery whatſoever, in as much as it is
equal to any Theft of the fame Value, with refpect to private People, and with reſpect
to the Publick much above it.
And what is ſaid of theſe as Principals, is alſo true in its Proportion of all that are
Acceffaries; all that are any Ways concerned in this Affair, fuch as knowingly provide
or make their proper Inftruments; fuch as go up and down, whether in City or Country,
to procure broad Money; fuch as fell theſe People broad Money for great Gain, which
cannot poffibly be done without a ſtrong Sufpicion of the Purchaſer; and fuch as are
employed to vend and put off theſe Pieces fo corrupted and debaſed; and laſtly, ſuch
as eafily receive and purchaſe the Clippings and Filings of Silver, at the Hands of
juſtly-to-be ſuſpected Sellers. I know not how they can (any of them) acquit them-
felves (not to the Laws and Statutes of the Kingdom only, but) to God above, and
to their own Confciences, who are in any fort Partakers with theſe Robbers of the
Publick.
And upon this Account, a Diſcourſe of this Nature may be (I hope) in this Place,
as juftifiable, as any one elfe upon the Eighth Commandment: And I will believe I
fpeak to Magiftrates, not only careful of the Dignity and Honour of our Laws, but of
the Welfare and Security of innocent and honeſt People: And who will therefore
take what care they can, to bring to Light, and Puniſhment, thefe Offenders. And
if there appears but little of Chriſtianity in fuch Sermons, it will be to fuch as confider
not how great a Part, Juſtice and Honeſty, and fair and righteous Dealing make
up of
this Divine Religion; and how great Care the Doctrines of the Goſpel take, not
only of Men's Souls in the World to come, but of the Good and Welfare of their
Bodies here. An honeſt Man and a good Chriſtian will never be two diftinct Things
in a Chriſtian Kingdom; for the chief Deſign of our Religion is to make us good
and honeſt Men in this World, and to propofe Rewards to fuch as will be fo, in the
World to come. And therefore, if I have convinced any one of the Fraud and Vil-
lany, the Injustice and the Theft of Coining and Clipping, and thereby fhall deter
them from entering on, or perfifting in thoſe evil Practices, or ſhall reclaim them
from them, and occafion their Repentance and Amendment, I fhall make no doubt of
having ferved the Intereft and Deſign of Chriſtianity, in a great many Particulars. And
in this Hope I will end this Sermon, leaving it to the Blessing of God Almighty,
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft: To whom be all Honour, and Glory, now and for
ever.
A SER-
79
À
SERMON
Of the Education of CHILDREN:
Preached before the Right Honourable the Lord
Mayor and Court of Aldermen, at Guild-Hall
Chapel, on Sunday, November 1. 1696.
To the Inhabitants of the United Pariſhes of
St. AUSTIN and St. FAITH.
H
AVING frequently intended with my felf, fomething of this Nature for your par-
ticular Ufe and Service, to whom, you know, I am more immediately related; it
was the easier to me, to comply with their Defires who were willing to have this Dif
courfe published; because I knew Ifhould thereby fatisfy in part my own Intentions and De-
fign of doing you good in this Inftance; and therefore though it be now Common, yet I de-
fire you earnestly to make it more particularly Yours, by a cloſe Application of it to your
Jelves.
I cannot tell how a Minifter can promife himself any Success in his Endeavours, if the Pa-
rents will not believe themfelves obliged (as certainly they are by God's Commands) to educate
their Children well, and bring them up in the Fear and Nurture of the Lord; and by their
Care at home in private, fit them for thofe farther Inftructions they are to receive in pub-
lick, at the appointed Opportunities. They are to fow the Seeds of Chrift's Religion in the
Children's Minds, and He must wifely cultivate, improve, and nourish them; They are
to lay the first Foundations in their Hearts, and He must build thereon, as God enables
bim.
That this might not be a Work of Difficulty, either to Parents or to Children, nor either
of them left at an Uncertainty, the one of Teaching the other of Learning what they ought,
the Church, in her great Wisdom, hath collected in her Catechifm a fhort, but full and
comprehenfive Summary of whatsoever a Chriftian is to believe and practife to his Soul's
Health, which all her Children are to learn, remember, and confider, according to their
Age and Underſtanding. This is delivered in fo clear a Method, in Words and Senfe fo eafy
and intelligible, that it is not above a very mean Capacity; and yet the Matter is fo folid and
fubftantial, that it is fit for the ſtrongeſt Understanding; the oldeſt Chriſtian in the World
need know no more, than what he is to learn there in his Youth, though he will know it bet-
ter and more fully, the longer he confiders it; fo that the Parent, whilft he is inftructing the
Children in it, will be himself a gainful Learner; more and more edified, and grow conti-
nually in the Knowledge of his Faith and Duty.
The Neglect of this prefcribed Courfe, has been one great Occafion, I believe, of that wide
Difference there appears of private People's Judgments and Opinions in Matters of Reli-
gion; they have taken in different Principles in their Youth, and therefore as their Age
advanced, have drawn different Conclufions from them, the Effects of which have been
exceedingly mischievous. I do therefore advife and defire you all to teach your Children this
judicious, found, and truly Chriftian Catechifm, that favours nothing of a Party or pri-
vate Spirit, but is what they may, and muſt depend upon to their Lives-end,
When
80
The PREFACE.
When this good Ground-work is well laid, you may with much more Eafe, form and fa
Shion them to Virtue and Religion, by putting them in Mind of the Covenant they have
made with God in Baptifm, by which they ftand obliged to give themfelves entirely up to
Chrift; to look upon him as their only Lord and Lawgiver, their Saviour and their Judge;
to believe whatever he reveals, and to fulfil whatever he commands. There also you will
find the two Tables that contain their Duty towards God, and towards their Neighbour,
and both of them explained with the cleareft Brevity that can be found; from whence you
are to take occafion of exciting them to a moft diligent Performance of them; as alfo to re-
buke and punish the Neglect or the Tranfgreffion of them. There also they will learn the
Lord's-Prayer, the Prayer that Chrift himself, the Son of God, (who knew the Father's
Will, and Man's Neceffities, the best of all Men living) taught his Followers to use; and
therefore it is fuch, you may be fure, as is beſt fitted for our Purpoſe, and fuch as is, both
for the Matter and the Manner, acceptable to God the Father. After this follows a
Short, but full Account of the two Sacraments, of Baptifm, and the Lord's-Supper; by
which they learn the Manner how they themselves (and all true Chriftians ever fince our Sa-
viour's Inftitution of it) were initiated into Chrift's Religion, namely, by being baptized
in Water, in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, according to Chrift's
Command, explained by the univerfal Practice of the Church; infomuch that they who
have at any Time denied or refufed the Matter and the Form of this Sacrament, have not
been accounted Chriftians. Here they fee alfo what is fignified by being thus baptized in
Water, namely, the dying unto Sin, and living a-new to Righteouſneſs, i. e. the repent-
ing of, and forfaking all their past Sins, and living for the Time to come, a righteous and
a boly Life; which is also the Meaning of becoming a New Man, a New Creature, a
Regenerate Perfon, and the like; all which is engaged for by every one at his Baptifm, and
is to be remembred and performed for ever after. Here, laftly, they will come to fee the
End of the Inftitution of the Sacrament of the Lord's-Supper, the Cause and Purpofe of
its being ordained, namely, For the continual Remembrance of the Sacrifice of the
Death of Chriſt, and of the Benefits which we receive thereby, i. e. to put them con-
ftantly in Mind, that Chrift the Lord was crucified upon the Cross; that this his Death
was an attoning, expiatory Sacrifice, and accepted by God as fuch; that for its Sake and
Merit his Anger is appeafed, he is now reconcileable to all that will repent them of their
Sins, and forfake them, and obey the Gospel; he will forgive them the Penalty they had in-
curred, and will moreover crown them in the World to come with everlaſting Happiness.
The Remembrance of this falutary Death and Sacrifice, and the great Benefits derived to
us from and by it, is the End of this Sacrament's being inftituted by Chrift: And there-
fore to answer the End of this Inftitution, they must come to the Sacrament; and when they
come, the Bread broken is to remind them of the Body of Chrift, torn and fuffering on the
Cross, and the Wine poured out is to remind them of the Blood of Chrift that was there
Shed; and then they are to call to mind the inexpreffible Benefits of this Death, the Pardon
and Forgiveness of all the Sins which they repent of and forfake; the Hope and good
Affurance of which Pardon, and Peace, and God's Favour, is as much the Life, the
Strength and Comfort of the Soul, as Bread and Wine are the Support and Comfort of the
Body.
Upon this Knowledge of the End of the Inftitution, and of the Benefits that we receive
by Chrift's Death, it remains only that the young ones be acquainted with the Preparation
that is neceffary to their coming to the Lord's-Supper; which they will find in the Anfier to
the last Question of the Catechifm, which contains the whole of what they are to do. They
are to examine themſelves, whether they repent them truly of their former Sins; whether
they ſtedfaſtly purpoſe to lead a new and better Life for theTime to come-whether they
have a lively Faith in God's Mercy, through Chrift, i.e. Whether they verily believe
that God was fo exceeding merciful and gracious to Mankind, that for the Sake of Christ's
Obedience,
..
The PREFACE.
81
Obedience, Death and Sufferings, he will certainly forgive the Sins of fuch as fhall repent
and leave them; and whether in full Perfuafion of this Mercy and thefe gracious Promifes,
they fet about Repentance: Whether they thankfully remember Chriſt's Death, i.e.
Whether upon the Confideration and Remembrance of the mighty and amazing Miſeries to
which their Sins expofed them, and from which the Death of Chrift alone has freed them,
they do not call to mind this great Deliverance with the greateſt Joy and Thankfulneſs, and
blefs and magnify the Name of God, who hath wrought this wonderful Redemption for them
by the Death of Chrift, his dear and only begotten Son. And, Laftly, Whether they are
in Charity with all Men.
This is the Preparation (and all the Preparation) that is neceſſary to the coming to the
Lord's-Supper. And if People would be content to learn wherein this Duty confifts, in the
Shorteft, plainest, and the fureft Method, they would go no farther than the Church-Cate-
chifm; or if a little farther, it should be but to the Communion-Service; in which they
will be fure to find all that is needful or convenient for them to know or do before, and at,
and after this Holy Sacrament.
I have neither Authority nor Intention to difcommend or difallow the Ufe of other Books
that treat of thefe Matters; but you will take it on my Word, I hope, that the shortest and
the plainest Rules of Direction are fill the best; that wherein foever other Books differ from
this, they are not to be depended on; and that Multiplicity of Books is apt to beget Confu-
fion. As far therefore as you will let my Judgment weigh with you, I recommend it to your
"Care, that you let the Church-Catechifm be the Ground and Foundation of what your
Children are to know of the Chriftian Religion; and that other good Books be called in as
Helps to their Devotion only, or to explain the Particulars contained therein, if they be
difficult.
Whilft you are teaching, and your Children learning all thefe Things, you must be fure,
of all Things in the World, to go before them with a good Example; that is, to recommend,
impreſs, and make your Leſſons credible: They will understand, believe, and practiſe bet-
ter, if they ſee you live as you teach them to live. Let them know that you pray to God
conftantly with your Family; that you love and exercife Truth, and Honefty, and Justice,
in all your Dealings; let them hear and fee you chide your Servants and Dependants for
every Lye they tell, and every Fraud and Falfhood they are guilty of; let them never hear
you fwear or curfe, or speak any Thing difrefpectfully of God, or Providence, or Holy
Scriptures, or any Thing of Religion; and they will then believe you are in earnest, and
be more careful of doing as you bid them, and more fearful of offending. Let them fee you
go your felf to Church upon the Lord's-Day, and as many of the Family as can be spared
with your Convenience, and there behave themselves as becomes the Servants of God in his
own Houſe, and more immediate Prefence; and let them never fee, even in the After-part
of that good Day, any Thing light, extravagant, or rude; but fomething of Respect and
Honour fhewn to the good Exerciſes that are over, and to the Day devoted by the Church of
Chrift to God's Service. Away with that fevere, fullen and morofe Religion, with which
fome Judaizing and mistaken Chriftians pass that Day on one hand; and that prophane,
contemptuous, Court-like Obfervation of it on the other; but let a decent, Chriftian, and
good-natured Carriage, temper thefe Extreams; that your Children may neither dread
the Approach of Sunday above other Days, nor yet long for it, as a Day of Sloth and
Idleness.
I hope I may, without Offence, take this occafion to defire fuch of the Separation as are
within my Parish, to take all the Care they can, that both their Children and their Ser-
vants go along with them to the Places where they ferve God themselves, or to fome other
certainly; and require an Account of their fo doing; that the Liberty of abfenting them-
felves from their Parish-Churches, indulged to them by Man's Law, be not turned to
the Libertinifm of ferving God no where, and Irreligion and Prophaneness find thoſe
People
I X
82
The PREFACE.
People whom the Church lojes. We must, indeed, on all fides, be folicitous left he who fows
Divifion amongst us, reap the Fruit thereof, and be the greatest Gainer; of this, in ear-
neft, there was never greater Need than now; for Chriftianity and good Morality had ne-
ver more, or greater Enemies; and therefore all our joint Endeavours will be little
enough to oppoſe the foft Infinuations of their fecret Underminers, and the moſt impudent and
bold Attacks of their avowed and open Adverfaries. I am forry we can date the mighty
Growth and Progreſs of theſe Miſchiefs within the Compass of fo few Years, when we were
hoping ſtill for better Things: But let this evil State provoke us to a greater Care and
Zeal in the Defence of Virtue and Religion for the future.
You must all of you help to make this ugly Digreffion pertinent and uſeful, by taking all
imaginable Care to breed up a Generation better than the prefent, and fuch as may do theſe
wicked Days all the Difgrace and Shame they can, by a moft firm Adherence to the Chri-
ftian Faith, by a lively Senfe of Virtue and Religion in the Soul, made manifeft by a most
virtuous and religious outward Practice.
I have done, you fee, an unusual Thing in fixing a Preface to a Sermon; but it was to
make the Sermon more yours than any one's elfe; and if the Sermon be better read for the
Sake of the Preface, or if the Preface gains its End without the Sermon, I fhall obtain
the Point I aim at, and will answer for the Abfurdity or Newness of the Method. You
know I am every way your Debtor in religious Matters, and I affure you I am
otherwife,
Your Affectionate,
Humble Servant,
W. FLEETWOOD.
83
1
PROV. XIII. 24.
He that fpareth the Rod, hateth his Son: But he that loveth him,
chafteneth him betimes.
T
HE Education of Children is, and hath always been accounted, a Thing of
fuch Importance, that all who have at any time difcourfed or written of
Government, have found themſelves obliged to dwell particularly on that
Subject. Ariſtotle thinks it a Matter of fuch Moment, that he poſitively
determines it ought not to be left to the Parent's Choice; but that the Publick (whofſe
eſpecially the Children are) ſhould be entruſted only with that Charge. And Plato
lays down fuch fevere Rules, that it is a Queſtion whether they were ever practicable,
or only fitted to his fancied Commonwealth. And, indeed, confidering that they are
the Seed of Empires, Kingdoms, Corporations, and Families, that the Good and
Welfare of them all, depends entirely on them, there cannot be too much Care em-
ployed about their bringing up. There are ſo many Hazards from the fenfible and
tender Diſpoſitions of theſe nice Plants, from noxious Airs, inclement Seaſons, and
their own natural Luxuriancy, that it requires a great deal of Skill to cultivate them as
they ſhould be, and as they well deſerve. And it is with this Profpect, (and a larger
one befides, the World to come) that the Spirit of God hath inferted fo many pofitive
Commands, and fo many wife Rules of training Children up, into the Holy Scrip-
tures: For though One were enough, when found there, to make it our Duty, yet
there are Many to enforce it farther; and though the Spirit of God inſpired alike the
Herdſman's Son, with Solomon the King's, and made them alike infallible in what
they ſhould deliver to the World; yet in Compliance (may be) with our Weakneſs,
and the fond Conceits we have of human Reaſon and Underſtanding, it is fo contri-
ved, that there are more Precepts concerning Children's Education found in Solomon
alone, than all the Scriptures elfe; that they who take no Notice of the Inſpiration,
might yet be moved by the Authority of the greateſt Wiſdom, and the beſt Experi-
ence, and the Thing however done. I am to confine myſelf to that of my Text,
which is as comprehenfive as any; and will,
First, Explain the Terms of it; And
Secondly, Shew the Truth of the Propofitions contained therein; And
Laſtly, Make what Application may be ſeaſonable and uſeful.
And, First, Of the Terms. To fpare the Rod, in the firſt Claufe, being oppoſed to
chaftening in the ſecond; by the Rod muſt needs be meant, not only that particular
Inftrument of Puniſhment, but every thing befides that may prove the Means of our
Correction and Amendment. And fo in Job xxxiii. 19. He is chaftened with pain
upon his bed. And fo in Pfalm lxix. 10. I wept, and chaftened my Soul with fafting.
And fo in Ifa. liii. 5. The chaftifement of our peace was on him; by which is meant the
Miſeries, Afflictions, Pains, and Torments that our Lord endured both in Life and
Death for our Sakes; and fo in a great many other Places. So that by Chaſtiſement is
here intended every Inftrument of Correction, every Means of effecting what we in-
tend by chaſtifing. And to spare the Rod, is, not to uſe thoſe Means, not to employ
thoſe Inſtruments for the correcting and amending what we fee amifs in Children,
which are proper for their Age, fuited to their Difpofitions, and proportioned to their
Faults; whether it be Reproof and ſharp Admonition, Reftraint of Liberty, Difap-
pointment
84
Of the Education of CHILDREN,
pointment of their Wills, or corporal Puniſhment: To do (in a word) whatever is
neceffary, convenient, or becoming the Children and the Parents in their reſpective
Circumſtances, is to chaften; and to neglect the doing it, is to fpare the Rod. Let us fee,
in the next place, what is to love and hate one's Son, which are the reſt of the Terms.
By loving and by hating, is not here meant the exerting actually thofe Paffions in
the Heart, for then the Text would be untrue: It is by no means likely, that an in-
dulgent Parent ſparing of his Child, fhould actually hate it in his Heart; or that the
puniſhing it, ſhould be the Effect or Sign of natural Love; for the contrary to this
is moftly true: The fparing of it is the Fruits of natural Fondnefs and Affection,
and the correcting it is not the Choice of the Heart, but the Effects of a Neceffity,
impoſed by Prudence and Confideration, and Hopes and Fears of what may come to
pafs. By loving and by hating therefore is to be underſtood, the acting agreeably to the
Reafon, and not the Blindness of thofe Paffions; the producing fuch Effects as are in
God's Account and wife Men's too, and in our own, when freed from partial Preju-
dices, the Conſequence and Fruits of Love and Hatred acting regularly; fuch as are
commonly eſteemed the Effects of thoſe two Cauſes, whether they indeed proceed
from them or no: So that to love and hate one's Children, is to behave one's felf fo to-
wards them, that they and others may be convinced we love or hate them, by fuch
Fruits as reaſonably and ordinarily are the Products of thoſe two Paffions, whether
thoſe Paffions actually poffefs the Heart or no, of which we can convince none but
ourfelves.
From the Terms thus explained, it will not be difficult to fhew, in the fecond place,
the Truth of the Two Propofitions, how and in what Senſe he may be faid to hate his
Son, that ſpares the Chaſtiſement of him; and how he loves him who chaſtiſeth him
betimes: For if we are to reckon of Love and Hatred by the Effects, then it is eaſy
to diſcern when Parents hate their Children, namely, when either through Neglect or
Fondneſs, they permit them to enter on at firft, or afterwards continue in fuch Cour-
fes, as will bring them to inevitable Ruin; when by their Want of Care, Inſtruction,
or Correction, thofe Children fall into fuch Miferies, as the utmoſt Hatred of their
moſt profeſſed inveterate Enemies, could neither wiſh nor make them greater; what-
ever Love there may be at the Bottom. What fignifies the crowning of a Victim
with a Garland, when it is ſtill dreft up to Death? That Mother is as much a Mur-
thereſs who ſtifles her Child in a Bed of Roſes, as the that does it with a Pillowbear.
The End and Miſchief is as great, though the Means and Inftrument be not the fame:
And where two Caufes will produce the fame Effect, with equal Certainty, it is no great
Matter which of them it is, nor whether you give it a hard or gentle Name. It is all
one as if a Parent truly hated his Child, if through his Default, he fall into thoſe
Evils which will naturally work his Miſchief or Undoing; that Fault has the fame
Effect that downright Hatred would have had. And then for the Will, though he
cannot be faid to will downright the Evil of his Children, yet if he will the Means
which have a natural Tendency to produce that End, he is underſtood, in the Aç-
counts of Reaſon, to will the End, and to be guilty of the Evil in a great Degree.
And ſo we are ſaid to will a great many Things in Scripture, not that we will them
properly, but that we do thofe Things, from whence the others naturally and neceffa-
rily follow. So God expoftulates, in Ezek. xviii. 31. and xxxiii. 11. Why will ye die,
O boufe of Ifrael! Not that the Ifraelites willed or defired to die, for that is a Thing
incredible, if not impoffible, in the hardeſt Senſe of that Word; but that they willed
fuch Things, as would unavoidably bring that Death, and moſt inevitably ruin them.
So in Pfalm cvi. 24. Yea, they defpifed that pleafant land. Not that they deſpiſed or
rejected the Land of Canaan itſelf; but rejecting the only Means God had appointed to
bring them thither, which were Faith and Truſt in him, and Patience and Obedience
to
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Nov. 1. 1696.
85
to his Laws, they are faid to defpife the Land itſelf. So in Prov. xvii. 19. He that
exalteth his gate, feeketh deftruction, i. e. He that liveth above his Fortune and Condi-
tion, or that openeth wide the Flood-Gates to Iniquity, feeketh Deſtruction; the
Meaning is, that ſuch a one ſhall find Deſtruction, he is as one that feeks and makes
Enquiry after it, and he ſhall ſurely find it: So that Men are not charged with the Mif-
chiefs only they intend directly, but with fuch alſo as are like to follow, whether they
intend them or not; nay, though they ſhould intend the contrary. He who takes
the natural and ready Means to any End, is ftrongly guilty of the evil Confequence, al-
tho' he ſhould not only not defign that End and Confequence, but hope and wiſh it might
not come to paſs; becauſe neither Hopes, nor Wiſhes, nor Defigns, can hinder natu
ral or moral Cauſes from producing natural and moral Effects. But neither is it only fo
in acting, but in permitting alfo; he is faid, upon the fame Account and Reaſon, to be
guilty of the Evils that enfue, whofe Duty it was, and in whoſe Power it was to have
prevented them, but did not: It were cruel and unjust, to charge a Man with all the
Evils he ſhould by Duty prevent, but could not for want of Power; and it is not al-
ways reaſonable to charge a Man with the Evils he could by his Power have prevented,
but did not, becauſe he was not obliged in Duty; becauſe the Signification of Power, in
fuch a Cafe, is to be determined by the Convenience of Time, and Place, and Perſon, and
a great many other Circumſtances, of which a Man is only able to judge himſelf:
But where Power and Duty meet together, there the Obligation is unqueſtionable, and
the Neglect of doing what we ſhould and could, is inexcufable. The Application of
theſe Rules to the Cafe in Hand, is, I think, as evident as the Reaſon of thofe Rules.
It is plain from the Light of Nature, and the Uſe of Reaſon, as well as God's Deter-
mination in Scripture, that a Parent is obliged to educate his Children in the beſt and
moſt religious Manner poffible, to inſtruct them in all that is good, and warn them of
all that is evil; and it is as plain from the Corruption of our Nature, the Perverſeneſs of
our Wills, and from lamentable Experience, that unleſs this Care be taken, Children
will unavoidably be ruined; and therefore he who neglects this Education, which he
might, and ſhould look after, is properly enough faid to undo his Children; and as he
who ſhould defignedly ruin his own Children, would deſervedly be faid to hate them,
fo may he alſo who neglects their Education, if fuch Neglect be the natural and ready
Way to Ruin, though he do not deſign that Ruin; and though that Neglect do not
proceed from Hatred, yet he is faid, and properly enough, both to undo and hate them.
Now the Evils that proceed from a carelefs, or from bad Education, from want of
good Inftruction, of Reproof, Reſtraint, or of due Chaſtiſement in any kind, are in-
finite and pernicious, they are numberless, and they are intolerable. I believe it were
hard to reckon up any confiderable Calamity that has befallen a Kingdom, City, Fa-
mily, or private Perfon, but might be juſtly charged upon this Head in fome Mea-
fure.
The Reaſoning of Plato is both juſt and excellent upon the Education of Cyrus and
his Son Cambyfes, Darius and his Son Xerxes, and the following Kings of Perfia; and
fhews the exact and perfect Correfpondence betwixt the Ways of bringing up thoſe
Princes, and the Quality and Fortune of their Government and Kingdoms whilft
they lived.
Cyrus having been brought up ftill in painful and laborious Exerciſes, and in a hand-
fome kind of Equality of almoſt all Things betwixt himſelf and his Companions, his
Reign was full of Glory and Succefs, and every Thing that is good and laudable. But
whilſt himſelf was reaping Palms and Crowns of Victory, he left the Education of his
Son to the Ladies, who brought him up in the luxurious Softneſs of the Medes, where
no body durſt ſpeak a word of Truth or Honeſty, for fear of wounding his Ears,
which were uſed to nothing but to Compliment and Flattery. And hence it came,
I Y
that
86
Of the Education of CHILDREN,
that the Reign and Government of this foft Prince was full as infantous and unfortu-
nate both to himſelf and People, as that of his brave Father had been glorious, wife,
and happy unto both. Darius Hyftafpes afterwards afcended the Throne, and as his
Education had not been in the Delights of a Court, but hard and rough, in Labours
and Fatigues; fo his Reign reſembled, in a manner, that of Cyrus, both for Glory
and for Conqueſt: But whilſt he and his Compeers were ſpreading every where the
Perfian Honour by their Gallantry and brave Atchievements, Xerxes his Son was left
in Women's Hands, and from them had juſt fuch another Education as Cambyfès had;
and reigned accordingly, leaving whereever he came, the ſhameful Marks of a prodi-
gious Power, put into the Hands of an ambitious Madman.
Darius was, indeed, a great deal more to blame than Cyrus, becauſe he availed not
himſelf of ſo notorious an Example of Miſcarriage, nor procured a better Education
for his Son; but that is not the only Uſe that we may make of theſe great Inſtances
one cannot chuſe but fee, and lament too, that the Fate and Fortune of great Empires,
the Welfare and Ruin of fo many hundred thouſands, ſhould depend upon the Care
and the Neglect of a Parent, upon the Improvement, or the Sottiſhneſs of one Bo-
dy: But this would not touch us ſo near, we think, if it were not alſo true in leffer
Matters, and as fatal to private Families. The good or evil Education of Children,
does not only affect themſelves, but all the Stock and Kindred, more or leſs; there is
hardly any body ſo inconfiderable, but fomebody may be bettered, and ſomebody pre-
judiced by him; there is no body ſtands ſo fingle and remote, but if he falls, there is
fome one hurt befides himſelf, directly or indirectly; which, as it is a Motive to induce
every Relation to ſee after the Improvement of Children, as it falls in their Way; ſo it
is a ſpecial Argument to Parents, to attend more heedfully to the well educating of
their Children, becauſe the Welfare and Prejudice of ſo many other People does in a
great Meaſure, depend thereon. But fuppofing the Evil were fingle, that neither
Commonwealth, nor Family, nor Parent, were endamaged (as they all are) by want
of Education; yet the Evils that befall the Children are ſo intolerably many, and per-
nicious both to Soul and Body, that thoſe may well be ſaid to hate them, that do not,
when they might and ſhould, prevent them.
Can we ſee a Man that has wholly renounced Truth and good Faith, fo entirely
poffefs'd with the Spirit of Falfhood, Lying and Deceit, that one knows not how to
believe a Word he ſays, nor how to truft him with the leaſt Concern? Can we ſee a
Man fo ignorant of God and Goodneſs, of Religion and his Duty, and of all Things
Spiritual, that one would think he were newly born into the World, and had not yet
attained the Uſe of Reaſon, nor, indeed, the Ufe of Speech and Language; and ano-
ther ſo exceeding ſkilful in thoſe Matters, and of ſo ſharp a Wit and penetrating Judg-
ment, that he knows very well, that there is no fuch Thing as God and Soul, or any
thing but groſs, ſubſtantial Matter, modified with great Variety? Can we hear ano-
ther talk ſo loudly, and fo frequently of God, that his Mouth is filled with nothing
elſe; and yet at laſt, it ſhould be all in his Diſhonour and Defiance, in wounding
Oaths, in raging Blafphemies, and dreadful Imprecations, without Temptation, with-
out Pleaſure, without Profit; and at laft, without his Knowledge and Defign? Can
we ſee another verſed in all the Species of Intemperance, practiſed in all the Arts of
Luxury and Wantonneſs, and devoted wholly to Excefs, a perfect Slave to his voraci-
ous Appetite, and whoſe Heart and Soul is in his Diſh? Another ſo intoxicated with
the Love of Drink, that if it were poffible to drown himſelf he would; devoting both
the Day and Night to that Excefs, having no other Buſineſs, nor other Pleaſure and
Diverfion than Intemperance, neglecting all Concerns, forgetting all his Duty both to
God and Man; a Reproach to Nature, Scandal to Religion, uſeleſs to all the Ends
and Purpoſes of Living; and not only fo, but by his bad Example, and the curſed
Confequences
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Nov. 1. 1696.
87
Confequences of thoſe Courſes, ruinous to himſelf and Family, and a moſt pernicious
Creature to the Commonwealth. And another ſo enfeebled by his Lufts, fo debilita-
ted both in Soul and Body, by his exorbitant Indulgence to thoſe brutal Longings, that
he is ſcarce the Shadow of a Man; dull of Apprehenfion, weak in Imagination, fail-
ing in Memory, and moaped in his Underſtanding; in a word, as impotent of Mind
as Body, and whoſe Soul is as looſe about him as his Limbs.
Can one fee, I fay, theſe, and a Thouſand other Evils and Diſorders, with all
their ugly Confequences, reign and rage about the World continually, and know at
the ſame time, they are the natural Confequences of a looſe and careleſs Education;
and might, in a great meaſure, have been prevented by Advice, Reſtraint, and Puniſh-
ing betimes; can one fee and know this, and doubt at the fame time, whether our Pa-
rents hated us or no, who fhould and could, but would not fave us from them? What
could our greateſt Enemy have done befides? He would have taken the fame Courſes:
For one that he exerciſes as he did Job, with Sorrows and Afflictions, he ruins a Thou-
fand by Indulgences; it is the End he aims at, which is our Deſtruction, and it is no
matter by what means he comes about it. If Eutrapelus's Prefents are fure to prove as
fatal to a weak Mind, as a Dagger in a Man's Heart, or a Glaſs of Poiſon in his Bowels,
what fignify the Shews of Love, and the Pretence of Friendſhip, which prove as dead-
ly as the Affaults of open Enmity? What fignifies it, that the Child is the Delight of
its Parents Eyes, and the Idol of their Hearts; the perpetual Object of their Thoughts,
and the perpetual Theme of their Diſcourſe; that they diſcern new Beauties daily in it,
fecret Charms and Excellencies undiſcoverable to all the World befides; hear Mufick in
his Voice, and Wit in every Word, and Grace and Comelineſs in every Action? If Care
be not taken to render him as excellent indeed and to himſelf, and as amiable to others,
by Virtue, Goodneſs, Sweetneſs and Humanity, as he is to them by an abuſed Fancy;
all other Demonſtrations are but Demonſtrations of their own Fondneſs to, and Love
of their own felf, and end in their own Complacence and Delight. If you would con-
vince another of your Love, it is he that muſt feel the Effects of it in and upon himſelf,
as well as you. It is otherwiſe, like the Charity of good Words, the wiſhing of Alms,
and Food, and Raiment, with which a Man may be ſtarved with Cold and Hunger.
The Love that terminates in Fondneſs, and the little trifling (if no worſe) Effects of
that, can no more properly be called the Love of one's Children, than the bidding the
Hungry be filled, the Thirſty be ſatisfied, and the Naked be cloathed, without fup-
plying thoſe Neceffities, can be called relieving them. But the Parallel will hold no
farther; for he that relieves not the diftreffed, does them at leaſt no Harm or Injury;
whereas the Parent, that with all this Dotage, takes not care to educate his Children
virtuouſly and well, does them the greateſt Injury and Miſchief in the World; mif-
fpends the only proper Time and Seafon of their Improvement, deprives them of all
the Advantages and Opportunities of becoming uſeful to the Publick, a Support to the
Family, a comfortable Relation, and happy People themſelves; and not only ſo, but
expoſes them defenceleſs, deftitute and naked to abundance of Hazards and Tempta-
tions; to a contagious Air in the moſt ſenſible and tender Age; to a vicious World with
vicious Inclinations; to combat with thoſe Foes, with whom our Hearts do naturally
confpire; to meet thofe Dangers we rejoyce to run into; to vanquish thoſe Temptations
which we feek and hunt for; to refift thoſe Evils we had rather ſhould prevail than be
fubdued: To be left, in a word, to ourſelves, to the Naughtiness of our own Hearts,
and the Dictates of unruly, heedlefs Nature, to engage with fo many Sins, and ſo ma-
ny Snares, as are commonly a Match fufficient for the greateſt Care, and greateſt
Watchfulneſs, and greateſt Prudence, together with the ordinary Supplies of God's
Grace, is to be ruined and undone without peradventure. And if theſe are not true
Effects of Hatred, if theſe are not the Tokens of the greateſt Ill-will, and the moſt
im-
88
Of the Education of CHILDREN,
improved, refined Malice, we are yet to learn what thofe Words mean. And this, I
hope, is fo evident from the Senſe of the Thing, from the Reaſon of the Words, and
from the Experience of the World, that there is little occafion to prefs you with the
Authority of the Text, and to infift upon it, that it is King Solomon, infpired by God,
that fays, That he that spareth the rod, hateth his fon. It will be fomewhat clearer, by
confidering the other Clauſe in the Text, and feeing what are the Effects of Love, which
is early Chaſtiſement. He that loveth his fon, chasteneth him betimes.
I have already made appear, that Love and Hatred, in theſe Cafes, can only be fe-
curely judged of by the Effects; not by the Feelings, Motions, and Affections of the
Parents Hearts, but by the Fruits and Confequences, of which the Children muſt be
fenfible themſelves, and all the World be Judges. For the Ground of all this Mif-
chief is, that Parents commonly confult with no body but themſelves, to know if they
love their Children; and finding quickly by the Reply their Hearts make, that they
love them as they love their Eyes, they reft contented with the Anſwer, and uſe them
indeed as tenderly; whereas they ſhould enquire of Strangers, and of wiſe Men, im-
partial and unprejudiced; they fhould take their Informations from Reaſon and good
Senfe, from the Experience of the Aged, and fuch as ftudied more particularly this
Affair; and they would fhew them by the Effects alone, whether they loved or no;
the Marks and Tokens of Affection would be vifible in Manners and Inſtruction, be-
yond the Power of being deceived; and if this be too much, let them learn the Truth,
from the Pity of fome, and from the Reproach of others, and from the common Ru-
mours of the Neighbourhood. Every body but themſelves, will tell them, that Love
of Children muſt appear by its Effects and Fruits; and no other Thing can poffibly
convince another of that Love, though they themſelves are never fo perfuaded that
they do; and to confirm it, could be content to die. But of this, enough alrea-
dy, and alſo what it is to chaften; It remains, that I fay a Word or two of the
pro-
per Seaſon, and that is betimes; He that loveth him, chasteneth him betimes; either be-
times with reſpect to his Age, or with refpect to his Faults.
Firſt, with respect to his Age. It is in every Thing, of great Importance how we
begin, what Grounds we lay, and what Foundation it is we build
upon : If this be
not right, the reſt is but Time and Pains mif-ſpent, and will end in Lofs and Diſap-
pointment. It is as a Man that fets out falſe; every Step that he proceeds, is fo much
out of his Way, and he muſt return, and begin again. And ſo it is with the Jour-
neyings of Life; if in our early Youth we ſet out falſe, fall into evil Practices, or be
corrupted with pernicious Maxims, it is either a great Chance that we never ſee our
Error at all, but blindly ftill proceed at all adventure; or if we do, we find ourfelves
conſtrained to begin a-new, to return to the Place from whence we firſt ſet out, to our
intolerable Trouble and Vexation. What a deal of human Life is ſpent, not in wea-
ving a new Web, but in unravelling the old; not in learning new Leſſons of Truth
and Virtue, but in unlearning thoſe of Vice and Falfhood; in forgetting of evil Prin-
ciples, and laying down old Prejudices; in ſtripping ourſelves of our accuſtomed Ha-
bits, in parting with our old Acquaintances, in forfaking our old Friends, and in a
Manner tearing out our Vitals, and rending of our Hearts afunder? All which might,
in great meaſure, be prevented, by an early Seaſoning in the Ways of Goodneſs. It
was in profpect of this, that one of the Ancients would have Children accuſtomed to
love and praiſe with Delight all virtuous Actions, and deteft all Vices, even before they
attained the Ufe of Reaſon; he would have them conſtantly obſerve them, know them
compleatly, and form in their Minds perfect Ideas of them; and obſerving that Chil-
dren are firſt of all affected with the Senfe of Pleaſure and of Pain, he would have
them uſed, though never fo little and young, to take or think there is no Pleaſure but
in Goodneſs, Virtue, Temperance, Juſtice, and the like; nor feel or think there is any
great
?
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Nov. 1. 1696.
89
great
Pain but in thoſe Things that are truly evil, Vice and Sin. The Thing is car-
ried certainly too high, and the Leffon too refined and fubtile to be put in Practice;
but the Thing he means is this, That the Preventions and Prepoffeffions of Virtue,
Goodness and Religion, fhould anfwer at leaſt the Prejudices of our natural Corrup-
tion, and that Propenfity and Inclination to Folly and to Sin, we bring along with us
into this World; that the artificial Principles of Education might be of equal poiſe with
our original Corruption, till the Uſe of our Underſtanding bear down the Scale on the
right Side; and if it be better to prevent, than cure an Evil, to fave from Danger,
than deliver out of it; then it is better to begin betimes with chaftening of our Chil-
dren, to make them wiſe at our Expence, to let them know no Sin but by Deſcription;
to hinder them from making an Experiment fo very unprofitable at beft, and fatal in
the Event moſt commonly.
But, Secondly, betimes is alſo to be underſtood with refpect to the Fault; the firſt
reſpecting Age, would, if it were poffible, prevent the Evil; this latter is to put a ſpeedy
Stop to it, to hinder it from growing any farther; the firſt Advice is, to take all Care
imaginable, that no corrupt or noxious Weeds ſhould ſpring up in that pure and tender
Soil; the fecond is, to root them out betimes, if once they come: So that to chaften
betimes, is to fee, that Puniſhment do conftantly attend the Crime, before it be for-
gotten, and before an evil Habit be contracted by the frequent Repetition of evil
Acts.
..!
First, Before it be forgotten; as well that it may not appear to proceed from a De-
light in Puniſhment, or to be the Effects of ſtudied and deliberate Cruelty; as alfo,
that the Fault being freſh in Memory, the Juſtice and Reaſonableneſs of the Infliction
may the better appear, and make the deeper Impreffion on the Mind, and raiſe the
greater Averfion and Abhorrence of the Thing; that Impunity may not breed Secu-
rity in Sin; and that Children may not argue as older People often do, that because Sen-
tence is not speedily executed against an evil work, therefore their hearts should be fully fet
in them to do evil. It is a falfe and vicious Way of arguing; but becauſe it is obvious,
natural, and too eaſy, it ſhould be filenced quickly, and convicted of its Falfhood,
that it may not impoſe on them a ſecond Time.
the
But, Lastly, and moſt eſpecially, for fear of evil Habits being contracted;
Dread of Puniſhment is the moſt natural Reſtraint upon the Mind, it is the moſt pow-
erful Motive to Obedience, the very Life of all Laws, and without which they would
be but a dead Letter. And all the Reaſon in the World they ſhould be fo; for who
would obey againſt his Intereft, or who would practiſe againſt his Inclination, without
Fear? And who would fear without Puniſhment? According therefore to the Degrees
of Impunity which Men can find or fancy, will their Obedience to the Laws, or
Difobedience prove. And fo it is, even in the ſmalleſt Matters that relate to Children;
they naturally incline the wrong Way, and are kept ftrait by forcible Coercion; the
Dread of Puniſhment is the Reftraint that lies moft powerfully upon them, it is the
Confideration of that, that is their Motive to Obedience, and the Difcouragement that
keeps them from offending; and he that removes that Bar, lays them expoſed and
open to every Danger and Temptation. But nothing does this more effectually, than
fuffering them to fin at firſt without Reproof and Puniſhment; this ſtrangely leffens
the Guilt and Horror of their Faults within their own Minds, gives them Degrees of
Confidence in Wickedneſs, and makes them think it no fuch heinous Matter, and
venture on it frequently and freely, till it at laſt becomes habitual, and is rooted firmly
in them; and then the Danger is a thouſand Times the greater, and the Pains of re-
medying all theſe Miſchiefs infinitely more: So that allowing that they must, fome-
time or other, root theſe Evils out, free them from the Bondage and Captivity of their
Lufts and Paffions, and rid them of all their bad and fooliſh Principles, and fet them
I Z
in
90
Of the Education of CHILDREN,
in the Ways of Virtue and Sobriety again; allowing, I fay, that this muſt needs be done,
that they cannot poffibly be fafe or happy without it; nay, that they muſt be miſerable
here, and more than ſo hereafter; allowing of all this, it is demonftrable, that it is
not only a Piece of the greateſt Wiſdom to fet about it betimes, but of the greateſt Mer-
cy and Compaffion in the World, even in the Judgment of the tendereſt and moſt
pitying Mother. It is like putting One to Death, to fave a Hundred by the Terror of
the Example; which may be Juſtice to the Offender, but is, in Truth, a Kindneſs to
the reft. If one Reproof and Admonition will prevent the Occafion of twenty more,
each one as ſharp and terrible, it would be Cruelty to fpare it. If an early Reſtraint of
undue Liberty, will prevent Licentioufnefs hereafter, which must be reftrained with
Chains and Dungeons, who would not think it a Mercy to be reſtrained betimes? It is
better, fure, to break us of our Wills betimes, and to deny us our Satisfactions in ſmall
and trifling Things, before we can have fet our Hearts upon them, than to let our
Wills and Inclinations gather Strength, and our Affections fettle and grow firm, and
then begin to fall upon us; the one is only as the bending, the other as the breaking of
an Arm. A little Pain and Trouble, and Uneafinefs, will ferve at firft to fet us right a-
gain; when a continuance in our evil State, and a contracted Habit, will require a
great deal of Patience, and put us to a great deal of Torment. A little Care, and a
little Strength, will ferve to keep a young and tender Graft in Uprightneſs and Order;
which, if permitted to grow awry for ſome time, muſt fuffer Violence and great Diftor-
tion, before it will be ftrait again. The older we grow in evil Practices and evil
Maximis, the older they grow too, and take the fafter hold, and root the deeper in us,
and confequently are removed with greater Difficulty: So that allowing, that there is
an abfolute Neceffity of their being removed at length, it is plain and manifeft, be-
yond Denial, that it is not only better both for Parent and for Child, that it be done
betimes, but that it is a Piece of Cruelty both in the one, and to the other, to defer it
till the vicious Habit is contracted; and confequently that the Truth of the Propofi-
tion in the Text does viſibly appear, that he that loveth his fon, chafteneth him betimes.
And having done with that, I am now to make Application of what hath been ſaid,
and it ſhall be to the Parties here concerned.
First, The Parent.
Secondly, The Children; and to both in fhort.
First, To the Parent. To fhew you the Neceffity there is of bringing up your
Children under an early and fevere Diſcipline; the Spirit calls the doing of it Love,
which is a Term fo fit and fo expreffive, that Nature feems to have appropriated it to
Parents in fuch Manner, that they are fond of the Name, even when they have not
the Thing; they would be thought to love even when they do not; it looks fo like
their own, and what they ſhould do; and the Neglect of this he calls Hatred, a Term
from which all Parents naturally abhor. But that you might not be deceived, and
make your Judgments from the Paffions and Affections of your own Hearts, he de-
ſcribes this Love and Hate by fuch Effects, as are not ufually the Products of thoſe Paſ-
fions in the Hearts of Parents, but fuch as are fo in God's Accounts, and wife Men's,
and Children's themſelves, when they grow up to Years of Underſtanding; and there-
fore that you ſhould not fet the Movings of your Hearts, and your own fond Opi-
nions and Conceits of Kindneſs, againſt the Reaſon, Judgment, and Experience of
the whole World, and oftentimes your own: But freeing your felves as much as may
be from the Partialities of Nature, and your parental Prejudices, deal with
your own
as freely and as wifely as you would with the Children of a Foreigner and Stranger;
believing there is need of equal Care, and equal Rigour in treating with your own, as
you can viſibly difcern there is in treating with another's. This is the only true and
lafting Kindneſs you can do them; all other Tokens of your Love, but that of good
Dif
preached before the Lord Mayor, &c. Nov. 1. 1696.
gr
Diſcipline, will die with you, or may be taken from them by fundry Chances and
Misfortunes. This is the only Treaſure and Poffeffion you can leave them, of which
they cannot be deprived by Thieves and Robbers; out of the Power of Chance, and
above the Reach and Malice of the fubtileft and moſt formidable Enemy. This alone,
without any other Acceffion, often proves the Foundation of a laſting Happineſs; but
all other things, without this, fignify at leaſt nothing, but are moſt commonly the
Inftruments of greater Miſchief, and the Occafions of greater Falling. And though
it cannot be done without Reluctancy, and ſome Uneafineſs on both Parts, yet it muft
needs be done however; it is but like removing Knives and Inftruments of Danger out
of their Way, for Fear of hurting them, notwithſtanding all their Cryings and Impa-
tience after them; or like the adminiftring fevere Phyfick, to prevent a growing Sick-
neſs, notwithſtanding all their Loathings and Reſiſtance: Your Fondneſs feldom hin-
ders you from this, and yet fevere and early Difcipline is but an equal croffing of their
Wills, an exercifing of their Patience, and applying as uneafy Remedies to Evils
much more dangerous, and to effect a Good much more confiderable than that of
Health itſelf. It is not eafy to determine how far Children's Faults are chargeable upon
their Parents; there are too many, and too intricate Circumſtances to be confidered,
before one can decifively pronounce on fuch Matters; but neither of them are the ſa-
fer for this Uncertainty and Doubt. The Children fhall unquestionably fuffer for their
own Sins, and the Parents as unquestionably for their Neglect: They have both of
them Guilt enough, and both of them fhall have enough of Puniſhment; the one for
not doing what they ſhould, the other for doing what they fhould not. Not that
after all the Care, and Diſcipline, and early Chaftiſement, the Parent is fecure of
the Event, but ſecure of himſelf, and his Defign: He has done his Duty, and muſt
leave the Iffue in the Hands of God; he has taken the natural, ready, reaſonable, and
uſual and appointed Means; and if the Strength of Temptations, and the Violence of
the Children's Paffions, or the Perverſeneſs of their Wills, obftruct and hinder theſe
Means from attaining their good End, he has freed his Soul: The Parent may be af
ter that, fad and unfortunate, but has removed his Guilt and Puniſhment; and, next
to the effecting what we would, is the fatisfaction of having done what one ſhould. And
fo much for Application to the Parent.
A Word or two to the other Party, and I have done; and that, not to perſuade you
that Reproof, Refſtraint, and Puniſhment are Things eligible, or no fuch grievous and
uneafy States as they are fancied; for they are undoubtedly uneafy States, and juſt as
bad as you experience them to be; there is no arguing againſt Senſe, or perfuading a-
gainſt Feeling; but that you would believe, fince they proceed from People of the
greateſt Love and Tenderneſs, and fore againſt their Inclinations, that they are the moſt
natural and neceffary Means of effecting the greatest Good, and preventing the great-
eſt Evils in the World, and fo defigned by thoſe that do inflict them. It is true what
St. Paul obferves in another Cafe, Heb. xii. 11. That no chastisement for the preſent
Seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruit
of righteoufness unto them which are exercised thereby. You cannot love Cor-
reption and Reſtraint; but when you ſhall hereafter fee and feel the Effects of all this
careful Difcipline, in the Fear of God, in the Government of your Paffions, in Tem-
perance, in Chaſtity, in Patience under Evils, in bearing Diſappointments, in the
Joys of Innocence, and the Comforts of a good Conſcience; then
will bleſs your
Parents and Inſtructors, who, by their Admonitions, ſeaſonable Reproofs, and early
Chaſtiſements, delivered you from the Snares of Sin and Death, from the Plague of a
guilty Mind, from an uneafy Remembrance of what is paſt, and a fearful looking-
for of Evils to come, which you will then defire to have avoided, though with the
utmoſt Pain and Torment, and curfe the Indulgence that prevented it. You will have
you
other
92
Of the Education of CHILDREN, &c.
other Notions and Opinions of the Love of Parents and Inftructors than you now
have; and therefore in the mean time, let the Reaſon, Wiſdom, and Experience of
all Ages convince you, that the Courfes taken to make you good and happy, are not
only fit and fuited to your Age and Tempers, but neceffary and unavoidable, though
for the preſent they appear fo grievous and unacceptable; and therefore be not ſo haſty
and impatient under them, nor covet ſo to be delivered from them; be not ſo fond of
immature Manhood, only becauſe you think it is a State of Freedom from the Bon-
dage of your Diſcipline. That Age has no fuch Charms in it as you imagine; and
when afpired to fo ambitiouſly, and fo unfeaſonably, it is only to perfect your Deſtructi-
on, and compleat your Mifery the fooner; it is according to the good or ill Improve-
ment of this your Seaſon of Diſcipline, that Manhood ſhall prove more or leſs com-
fortable; the Ground is now a cultivating, the Seed is now a fowing, that ſhall ſpring
up to laſting Honour and Advantage, or to your laſting Shame and Ruin: And there-
fore though the Heats of Fancy, the Vigour of your fpringing youth, and Fervour of
Complexion, may ſuggeſt both ſtrange and forward Things; yet truſt them not, nor
liſten to them; it is but like the Gaiety that ſprings up from the Fumes of new Wine,
that warm and delight Men for a Moment, but foon evaporate, and leave the Heart in
greater Damps and Melancholy. You will quickly find the Miſchiefs of forfaking Diſ-
cipline, and all thoſe gay Expectances will vaniſh and conclude in lamentable Difap-
pointments; but the Trouble is, that then Repentance comes too late, the Time is ir-
recoverable, and the Evil is irremediable. And therefore, to conclude, learn to be wiſe
in this your Hour, the Wiſdom at leaſt of fuffering others to be wife and careful for
you, in Things of which you have as yet no Knowledge or Experience; and yet ſo ne-
ceffary to you, that thereupon depends the Welfare and Felicity of all
your Lives.
A SER-
93
A
SERMON
Preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, January 30.
169 before the Right Honourable the Lord
Mayor and Court of Aldermen.
I SA M. xxVI. 10, 11.
David faid furthermore, As the Lord liveth, the Lord fhall fmite him, or
his Day fhall come to die, or he fhall defcend into Battel, and perish.
The Lord forbid that I ſhould ſtretch forth mine hand against the Lord's
Anointed.
Τ'
Hough one muſt needs be fenfible, that Arguments and Inferences fetched
from the Jewish Government, cannot by any means conclude with cer-
tainty another Nation, and a different Conftitution; and that the Scripture-
Inſtances themſelves, without ſome general pofitive Command to follow
them, can oblige no farther than they carry Reaſon and Convenience along with
them; yet becauſe the World is governed moftly by Examples, and Scripture-Exam-
ples chiefly urged, and fitteſt for our Imitation; it may not be improper to confider in
this Hiſtory the Provocations Saul had given to David, and the Opportunities that
David had to avenge himſelf, and take away his Life: This I will do in the first place;
and in the ſecond, confider the Reaſon David here affigns for his Proceedings; It is the
Lord's Anointed: And in the third and laft place, apply myſelf a little to the Occafion of
this Day's Affembly.
I. The Perfons here concerned are Saul and David, the King of Ifrael and his Ser-
vant, the Father and the Son-in-law; and the State in which the Text ſhews us theſe
Two, was that of Enmity; it was the ſecond Time that Saul, with a premeditated
formed Defign, had hunted after David to deſtroy him; and it was the ſecond Time
that God had put the former in the latter's Power, and given his Life into his Hands;
which he was tender of the ſecond Time, and ſpared it with his old and uſual good
Expreffion, God forbid that I should stretch forth my hand against the Lord's Anointed.
A noble Inſtance this, if it were alone, of a moft excellent forgiving Nature, of firm
and ſolid Virtue, of ſteddy and unſhaken Loyalty; but when confidered with its Cir-
cumſtances that attended it, the Provocations Saul had given, and the Advantages that
David had, it will appear an Act fo brave and generous, that it would be flattering up
ourſelves in vain, to hope to fee it ever parallel'd throughout.
Confider therefore, First, The Prince that was his Captive now, and at his Mercy,
had fomewhile fince defcended fo below himſelf, as to become the Envier and De-
tractor from his Praiſe, was poorly jealous of the Honours he had purchaſed, and tried
to blaſt the Laurels he had gathered at the Expence of fo much painful Toil and
Hazard; and it is no little Share of Grace and Goodneſs, that can reſtrain a young
afpiring Hero, from taking Vengeance on the Maligners of his Praiſe, and from remo-
ving all Impediments in his Purſuit of Fame and Glory.
I A a
Confider,
94
A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, Jan. 30. 1698-9.
Confider, Secondly, This was the Prince that had attempted twice to murther him
himſelf, had thrown his Javelin twice to fix him to the Wall, and chofe to make
himſelf the Executioner of his own Choler and Revenge, hearkening ungratefully to
the Suggeſtions of that Evil Spirit, which the good Youth was at that preſent labour-
ing with his Mufick to appeaſe and charm; and when Men's Lives are fo apparently
ſought after, they ufually lay all Reſpects afide, and liſten to the Dictates of unruly
Nature.
Thirdly, He was a falfe perfidious Prince; under Pretence of honouring and advan-
cing him, he had removed him from himſelf, and made him Captain over a Thou-
fand; and ſtill to make the Matter lefs fufpicious, faid unto him, Behold my elder
Daughter Merab; her will I give to thee for a wife; only be valiant for me, and fight
the Lord's Battels. But what follows? For Saul faid, Let not mine hand be on him, but
let the band of the Philistines. Nothing affects a generous Mind ſo fenfibly, as being chea-
ted under Shew of Friendſhip; and Treachery is never viler, than when it is covered
with the Mask of Godliness.
But, after all, it came to pass, at the time when Merab, Saul's Daughter, ſhould have
been given to David, that he was given to Adriel the Meholathite to wife; an Affront
in its own Nature very great undoubtedly; but fuch as, according to the Maxims of
our modern Gallantry, were never to be pardoned. But worfer yet; When Michal's
voluntary Love had amply fatisfied the Diſappointment he had had in Merab, the un-
righteous Father, hardened in his Cruelty, would make his Daughter inftrumental in
the murthering of his Son-in-law, would have the Left Hand cut the Right one off,
the Wife conſpire againſt her Lord and Husband, and betray the Life ſhe loved and
prized above her own. And when a Man has thus apparently attempted to debauch
the Loyalty, and break the Union of the Marriage-bed, to diffolve thofe facred Bands,
to interrupt the ſweeteſt Commerce of Man's Life, and violate all the Ties of Nature,
Reaſon, and Religion, by a Practice of fuch horrid and unnatural Wickedneſs, there
is hardly any Exceſs of Fury fo exorbitant, but ſeems at firſt excuſable, in a thus inju-
red and abuſed Huſband. But God forbid, faid David, notwithſtanding all this, that
I ſhould ſtretch forth my hand against the Lord's anointed. The Villany of this Attempt,
the Wickedness of Saul, and David's Virtue, might yet be raiſed, by confidering
what were the Effects of this his Rage and Diſappointment; he was ſo cruel, that he
took the Princeſs from her Huſband, broke off the Comfort of her Life, and fent her
to a Stranger's loathed, unhallowed Bed; and even when Jonathan himſelf, his nobleſt,
beſt beloved Son, the Prop and Comfort of his Age, the Light and Joy of Ifrael,
the Glory of his Houſe, and the Support of his Kingdom, came but to intercede in
his Friend's behalf, and to excufe his Abfence, Saul's Anger was fo enkindled at him,
that he caft a Javelin at him, to have nailed him to theWall; a Piece of Rage and bru-
tal Violence that Nature wants a Name for, but a fure Indication that fuch a fettled
Wrath was never to be appeaſed, and therefore never to be ventured more; and there-
fore now fecured for ever.
But farther, he was perjured, he had but lately taken a folemn Oath before the Lord
and Jonathan, that David ſhould not be flain; when behold, upon the firſt awaken-
ing of his evil Spirit, even whilft his Vows were warm upon his Lips, he threw him-
felf the ſecond Javelin at his Heart, and threw away all Faith and Honour with it.
And when a Prince hath thus abandoned common Honeſty, broken the facred Cords
that knit Societies, and keep up Governments and mutual Correſpondences together,
with Relations natural and civil, and by his Perjuries provoked the Vengeance of
God, and is delivered into the Hands of thoſe whofe Innocence and good Credulity
he had impoſed on, and abuſed almoſt to their Deſtruction: Oh! what a mighty
Meaſure
before the Lord-Mayor and Court of Aldermen.
95
Meaſure of God's Grace muft fill the Heart of him, that then could fay, The Lord for-
bid that I ſhould ſtretch forth my hand against the Lord's anointed.
There are ſome Things befides our Lives and Perfons, in which, if we are touched,
we think ourſelves extreamly injured; and they are eſpecially our Friends, our For-
tunes and Religion; and David was in every one of theſe affected more or leſs by Saul's
implacable Purfuit, and hunting after him. He was conftrained to change his Habita-
tion, carry his Father and his Mother, and his whole Family, into a ſtrange Country,
aged and feeble, as they needs muft be. Now to be forced, when one is growing old, and
ſtooping with Infirmities, to forfake one's native Place, the Dwelling of one's Ance-
ſtors, the Comforts of good Neighbourhood, the ufual Profpects and familiar Objects
of one's Sight, with all the old Conveniences of Life, in the way one is in; for a
ſtrange Country, barbarous Neighbours, new Laws and Ufages, and Tongue unknown.
muſt needs be hard and troubleſome to human Nature, and an Oppreffion ſcarce to be
endured: yet this was David's Cafe, who felt theſe Evils in himſelf, but much more
fenfibly in the Diftreffes of his Parents, who, by the Fury of the King, were driven
to Mifpeh of the King of Moab.
And then for his Eſtate, it could not otherwiſe be, but he muſt ſuffer much in that
reſpect, it was impoffible to remove his whole Effects: Kings have long Hands, and
piercing Eyes, and by their Officers can reach and fee at mighty Diſtance. And Saul
had Harpies in his Court undoubtedly, as well as other Kings, ready to beg and ſeize
upon the Eſtates of fuch as by their Crimes or their Misfortunes, were obnoxious to the
King's Difpleaſure.
Lastly, For his Religion, Although he ſuffered nothing for or by it, yet much he
fuffered for the want of it; to be driven away into a wicked and idolatrous Country,
and be debarred the Exerciſe of his Religion; to be hurried from God's Temple, and
the communicating in the appointed daily Service of that Holy Place, was little
lefs than painful Martyrdom to one fo zealoufly and fo devoutly bent as David
was.
Let any Man recount the Evils I have mentioned, fum up the Perfecutions and the
Provocations of King Saul, and fet before his Eyes, himſelf, or any one in David's
Cafe, wronged in his Honour, divorced from his Nuptial Bed againſt his Will, de-
ſpoiled of his Eſtate and Property, wounded in the Diftreffes and Afflictions of his
Parents, attempted privately to be deſtroyed, purfued in Publick as an Enemy, and
hunted like a Partridge on the Mountains, and forced to wander like a Fugitive, and
feek his Bread out in defolate Places, and in a manner excommunicated, by being bar-
red the Uſe and Exerciſe of his Religion: Let any Man, I fay, but put himſelf in theſe
bad Circumſtances, and find himſelf in a Capacity of delivering himſelf from out of
them, as David was, and think with himſelf what he would do. No,
it is not
that I would adviſe him to, let him rather think what David here did, The
Lord forbid, that I ſhould ſtretch forth my hand against the Lord's anointed.
There is hardly any one of all theſe fingle Paffages that happens to ourſelves, or
our Acquaintance, but puts us to Extremity, and provokes us beyond all Patience; we
call it an intolerable Oppreffion, and weary Heaven and Earth with our Complaints,
and think ourſelves undone, till we have found our Satisfaction or Revenge. How
reſtleſs are we in contriving Snares, how quick in catching Opportunities, and how
malicious in improving them to our ill-natured Purpofes! Much otherwiſe was it with
righteous David here, who called not to his Mind his paſt Wrongs, nor caſt his Dan-
gers and Oppreffions up, to make a terrible Account; who confulted not with Fleſh
and Blood, nor debated the Matter with thofe ill Adviſers within, his Choler and Re-
venge, who cure one Evil by a hundred worfe: Yet he, as he had moft Reafon, fo had
he moſt Opportunities, and moſt Advantages, to carve out whatever Satisfaction he
might
96
A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, Jan. 30. 1698-9.
might judge fufficient: Which is what for his Honour, and our Inftruction, I muſt
Secondly infift on.
He was, First, The King's Son-in-law, one of the greateſt Honours in the King-
dom, and an Advancement that muſt needs draw after it a great many Friends and Fa-
vourers, and make him ſtrong Alliances at Court; and though thoſe Friendſhips com-
monly live but like Flies, while the benign and quickning Influences of the Sun con-
tinue, and dye upon the Frowns and Lowrings of their Prince; yet it were too hard
a Reflection on the Lightneſs of thofe Places, to think fuch folid Virtue, and unque-
ſtioned Merit, as eminently ſhone in David, had not acquired him a confiderable Par-
ty, and a well-grounded Intereft at Court.
But, Secondly, he was a mighty Man of Valour, he fought the Lord's Battels, he
was the Sword and Shield, the Horſemen and the Chariots of Ifrael: He was the
Scourge of the Philistines, and indeed of all the idolatrous Nations round; the great
Defender of the Jewish Faith, and the Supporter of God's Worſhip. And it is hard
to think a Man thus qualified, ſhould fail of bearing Sway amongſt the Soldiery, and
being gracious in the Camp; and all Men know how far that tends to the promoting
and ſecuring any great Deſigns.
very
Thirdly, This David was beloved of all the People, the Favourite of his Country,
the Idol of the Crowd. His Youth, his Beauty, his attractive Grace and popular
Deportment, together with his Virtue and Valour, had ftolen the People's Hearts,
and charmed them fo to Love and Admiration, that he became the Theme of their
perpetual Talk; their Songs and Dances were compofed in Honour of his great At-
chievements, and all their Inftruments of Joy and Muſick, were tuned to his invidi-
ous Praiſes. How harſh and rude muſt thofe Expreffions of their Pleaſure be, how
unmannerly and ill-natured a Triumph, to have the Women come to meet the King
himſelf, and grate him with the Burthen of their Song, Saul hath flain his thouſands,
and David his ten thousands. I do not wonder much, when I confider human Nature,
that Saul (as it follows in the next Verfe) was very wroth, and the faying displeased
him; and then upon a Repetition of that Sentence, it was very natural to infer, What
can be have more but the kingdom? It is fatal to a Prince to loſe himſelf, or fuffer any
elfe to get the Affections of his People. A King may be as wroth as Ahafuerus was,
and may decree terrible Things, and Priefts may preach up Patience and Obedience
long enough; but it will not do, unleſs the Affections of the Subjects go along there-
with. He that hath never gotten thefe, or loft them once, may find to his Coft,
when ever he comes to try, that the Ties of Duty are not half ſo ſtrong as the Bands
of Love; nor the Service of the Body comparable to the Affections of the Mind;
whereas he that hath gained the Heart, will certainly be Mafter of the Hand and Ser-
vice on Occafion. And this was it that Saul forefaw and dreaded fo; and this was it
that David was already in Poffeffion of. But notwithſtanding all this, great as he
was in Court, great as he was in Camp, and greater yet in Favour of the People, he
would not venture on the impious Fact; ftill it was, The Lord forbid, that I should
Stretch forth my hand against the Lord's anointed.
The Lord forbid; yet David knew it was this very Lord that had rejected Saul from be-
ing King, that rent the Kingdom from him, and that repented he had ever made him
King at all. Nay, David knew himſelf the Man defigned by God to be his Succef-
for, and had accordingly been anointed King by Samuel, at the Town of Bethle-
bem.
It is furely with Ambition, as with other Paffions, the fantaſtick and imaginary
Joys are greater than the experienced and ſubſtantial ones: The Hopes and Expecta-
tions far exceed the Pleafures of Poffeffion. Whatever Cares belong to Crowns, they
lye
before the Lord-Mayor and Court of Aldermen.
وق
lye concealed within their Circles, and are more feldom feen than felt; and therefore
more engage in their Purſuits, than are contented when they get them. But this
Temptation found no Place with David; young, and gay, and vigorous as he was,
and even fo near the Crown, that by conniving at Abishai's Blow, he might have been
in full and fure Poffeffion of it; yet he ſuffered not himſelf to be tranſported beyond the
Bounds of rigid Honefty and Loyalty; and ftill cries out, The Lord forbid
Now, to conclude, and to compleat this Character, add, Laftly, to theſe great Ad-
vantages of being Son-in-law, a mighty Man of Valour, and accepted in the Sight of
all the People, of knowing Saul rejected, and himſelf defigned for Succeffor, the greateſt
yet
of all Advantages, and that is Opportunity; that, without which all others fignify
but little; and that, with which alone Men ferve their Turns, and make up the De-
fects of all the reft; that Pandar to all Sin, and fatal Snare of Virtue! That has ruined
many thouſand Souls, and betrayed them into moft deteftable Commiffions; fome-
times againſt the beſt Convictions of their Underſtandings; nay, and fometimes againſt
their Vows and Refolutions: Opportunity, that few have Virtue, few have Strength
fufficient to withſtand! And of all Opportunities, none are fo ftrong, and work fo
powerfully upon the Minds of Men, as thofe that look like Providential ones, and
ſeem to come from God. Yet this was David's Opportunity, and yet withſtood. Be-
hold, faid the Men of David to him, Chap. xxiv. and ver. 4. Behold the day, of which
the Lord faid unto thee, Behold I will deliver thine enemy into thine hand, that thou mayeſt
do unto him as ſhall feem good unto thee. And again, in the Chap. of the Text, and ver.
8. Then faid Abishai to David, God hath delivered thine enemy into thine hand this day;
now therefore let me fmite him, I pray, with the fpear unto the Earth at once, and I will
not fmite him the fecond time. As if he had ſaid,
As if he had faid, "Look round you, noble Youth, and
"ſee how Heaven and Earth confpire in your Advancement; mark how the Provi-
"dence of God hath ordered every Thing in your behalf, contriving every Circum-
"ftance to concur in fetting the Crown upon your Head. How many Pfalms have
you compofed, how many Vows, how many earneſt Prayers have
you put up, that
"God would vifit your Afflictions, confound your Enemies, and redeem you from
"Diftrefs? Behold then, in this Opportunity, your Prayers are anſwered, and your
"Vows returned. This is the Day, this is the Time, of which the Lord faid, I will
« deliver thine enemy into thine hand. Is it not he, and he alone, hath wrought this
great Salvation for thee? With his own Right-hand, and with his holy Arm, hath
"he beſtowed on thee this Victory. What could our few and feeble Troops have done
againſt a Royal Army, had not the Finger of God been viſible in all this Action;
"had not his gracious Providence difpofed of all Events in Favour of
cc
cr
<<
<<
your Claim?
“It is the Lord's doing, and marvellous in all our eyes; improve it therefore to his Ho-
nour, and the advancing his Deſigns, in fetting you over his chofen People. Will
cc you withſtand the Purpoſes of God, or will you not concur with his good Provi-
"dence? God hath delivered Saul into your Hands, and do not tempt the Lord, by
flighting or neglecting of his Times and Seafons; it were Madneſs and Impiety to
"let him eſcape: You muſt not think the Lord will work out fuch Deliverances e-
very Day; to-day you are a Conqueror and a King, if you but pleaſe; to-morrow
you may be a Rebel and undone, and who fhall pity you? You fhall not need to im-
"brue your own Hands in his Blood; you fhall not need to incur the Odium of com-
manding fuch a Thing to any elfe; I will fpare your Fame the Guilt of both; per-
"mit me only, by myſelf, to be the Minifter of Providence, the Executioner of
"God's Defigns." This was the Senfe and Purport of Abishai's Speech, and carried fo
much Force and worldly Reaſon with it, that none but one that had the Fear of God
continually before his Eyes, could poffibly withſtand it, or fay with David, The
Lord forbid, that I should stretch forth my hand against the Lord's Anointed.
<c
<<
I B b
And
98
A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, Jan. 30. 1698-9.
And now having done what Right I could to the particular State and Circumftan-
ces of Saul and David, King and Subject, and fhewed fuch Provocations on the one
hand, and fuch Temptations and Advantages on the other, as it may be never did be-
fore, or never will again hereafter happen:
I am to proceed, and confider, Secondly, The Reafon David gave for his Refufal of
Abishai's, and the Soldiers Proffer, It is the Lord's anointed.
By the Lord's anointed is here meant, the Man that was by God's Defignation and
Appointment anointed King or Captain over all the People, which was done by the
Ceremony of pouring a Vial of Oil upon his Head, and kiffing him: So that the a-
nointed of the Lord, fignifies no more than an ordinary King with us. David therefore
would not ſtretch forth his Hand againſt Saul, becauſe he was his King: He would
fly from before him, though he was his King, as he did from Keilah; and he would
gather up
600 Men to guard him from the Violence of (I will not fay the King, but)
his illegal and blood-thirſty Servants that purſued him: But he would not touch the
King's Life; and becauſe he has expreffed no other Reaſon, than that he was the
Lord's anointed, that is, a King, we muſt either conclude, that the Laws of God, or
the fundamental Conſtitutions of the Nation had guarded the Perſons of their Kings
from any Violence; or elſe that David abſtained out of a Principle of Tenderneſs;
or from the Unreaſonableneſs of the Thing itſelf; or from the Infamy that always
waited on that wicked Practice. The Law of God did certainly fecure the Lives of
Kings as well as other Mens, if it did not more. And it appears by the very Name
of Treaſon, that the Civil Conftitution had preferved the Royal Perfon facred and invio-
lable; and if we take our Meaſures from the abfolute and arbitrary Sway of all the
Eastern Monarchs, we cannot but conclude the Cuftoms of Judæa, amongſt the reſt,
muſt have conciliated a mighty Awe and Reverence to their Princes. And for the
Unreaſonableneſs of ſuch Attempts, it is plain, that a Government cannot poffibly ſub-
fiſt for any time, where any kind of Violence is allowed againſt the Magiftrate. We
fee what wicked Work is made in fome unhappy States, where private Executions of
Revenge betwixt Particulars are indulged, or frequently connived at. But Govern-
ment is at end, where Rulers are expoſed to popular Affaults, or private Aſſaſſinations:
Befides, there is a great Indecency in the Nature of the Thing; to fee the Lord and
Maſter of a Nation reduced to wretched Villany; to fee the Man whom all the King-
dom honoured and adored, deſpiſed and trampled on; but moſt of all, to find a Sove-
reign Arbiter and Diſpoſer of his Subject's Lives, to be defpoiled of his own. But, Laſtly,
it is, and has always been, and always will, I hope, be infamous to ſhed their Blood.
Although Mankind has generally a Reliſh of Liberty, and has for every Age re-
eived the Mention of its brave Affertors with Reverence and Eſteem; yet, I know
not how, where-ever it has been vindicated by the Blood of Kings, (though they were
truly very bad) it gives fome kind of Shock to human Nature, and blemiſhes the
Glory of the Action.
Never, perhaps, was any Man more fitted for the vindicating the antient Liberties
of Rome, than M. Brutus was; a fober, virtuous, honeft, and difintereſted Man, freed
from all Imputation of Revenge or Malice by his Enemies, and one that had no other
Proſpect in the World, than the redeeming of his Country from its Slavery; and yet
becauſe he could not compaſs his Intent, but by the Death of its brave Raviſher, his
Virtues and moſt noble Qualities have all been loft under the Infamy of Parricide and
Traytor: So natural an Abhorrence have all Men for ſhedding of Princes Blood, and
taking away their Lives.
But what then, Is the World provided for no better than fo? Hath God indeed ſub-
jected all Mankind to the tyrannick, impotent, and arbitrary Sway of fome few Men,
who have ſometimes leſs Wiſdom, and frequently lefs Virtue than their Neighbours? It
fares
before the Lord-Mayor and Court of Aldermen.
99
#
fares but ill, it ſeems, with us, when our Eftates and Properties, our Lives and Per-
fons, Wives and Daughters, our Liberties and our Religion too, are put into the
Hands of fome weak, wicked, or perverfe, yet uncontroulable Humour; will not this
Impunity breed greater Licentiouſneſs in Princes, and augment the Slavery of the
Subjects to fuch Degree, as it can go no lower; and fo the Sacredness of one Man fhall
be the Ruin of many thoufands? In anfwer to this, we muſt acknowledge, that ac-
cording to Nature and good Reaſon, there feems to be a great deal of Iniquity and
Partiality in theſe Caſes; but we muſt ſay withal, that Religion is neither chargeable
with theſe Hardſhips, nor anfwerable for them; God hath declared himfelf in Favour
of no one fort of Government, with reſpect to all the World, nor laid it by Command
on all People: Our Saviour faid, his kingdom was not of this world, and did indeed con-
cern himſelf with nothing of it. St. Peter and St. Paul did preſs Obedience and Sub-
jection on the Chriſtians, as they found Occafion; but then it was Obedience and Sub-
jection to the Laws and different Conftitutions of the different Governments they lived
under, and did not thereby change, or think of changing them.
There were, no queſtion, in the Apoſtles Days, very different Forms of Govern-
ment in the World, fome abfolute, and fome limited; fome made their Will the
Law, and others governed according to known and fettled Laws; fome fucceeded by
way of Inheritance, and others were elected to the Rule: Now, if when St. Paul and
St. Peter prefs the Chriftians they wrote to, to Submiffion and Obedience, they only
mean, that thoſe particular Chriftians ſhould obey the particular Governments they
lived under; then there arifes no Obligation to any other Chriſtians to obey their Go-
vernors, by virtue of any thing faid by theſe Apoſtles. But if all Chriftians are here-
by underſtood to be exhorted to Obedience to their Governors (as moſt undoubtedly
they are) then are all Chriſtians exhorted to pay fuch Obedience to their Governors, as
the particular Conftitution of the Government they lived under called for and required.
And then the Chriftians who lived under an abfolute Monarch, were to pay fuch Obedi-
ence as that Government required; and the Chriſtians who lived under a limited and
mixed Monarchy, were to obey as that Government required; and fo of all the reſt,
they were all to ſubmit themſelves to the ſeveral Governments they lived under. For it
is not to be prefumed, that St. Peter and St. Paul, by their preffing and commanding
Chriſtians to fubmit to and obey their Governors, changed the feveral Forms and Con-
ftitutions of Government, and required the Chriftians of a limited and mixed Mo-
narchy to obey their Superiors in the fame Manner, Meaſure and Degree, as thoſe of
an abfolute one did theirs; but Chriſtianity required fuch Obedience as the Laws and
Cuſtoms of the Country called for, and exacted at their Hands: And, truly, it would
be ſtrange to imagine that Chriſtianity ſhould prefs Men to obey, in Inſtances where the
Laws of the Country require no Obedience; fince every Country is prefumed to un-
derſtand and confult its own Intereft beft, and to fecure fuch Obedience from the Sub-
jects, as would beft procure and continue ſuch their Intereſt. And therefore if one
Country had liked and approved of fuch a Form and Conftitution of Government,
and found it beft and fitteft for it, with refpect to its Situation, and its Neighbourhood,
and to the Temper and the Genius of its People and Inhabitants; if it had pitched up-
on fuch Laws as it found by Experience moſt convenient for it; if fuch and ſuch were
the Powers and Prerogatives of the Superiors, and fuch and fuch the Privileges and Im-
munities of the Subjects, Chriſtianity did not intend to alter this, and fay, that the
Superiors ſhall have more Power and a fuller Authority over the People, and the Peo-
ple ſhall have leſs and fewer Privileges than what are already agreed to on both hands;
neither did it come to fet the People higher, and the Princes lower than they were. Chri-
ſtianity did not meddle with theſe Matters, nor fay any thing on either fide; but coming
to ſettle Peace and Quiet, Truth and Honeſty, Juſtice and Religion, in the Hearts of all
Men,
100
A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, Jan. 30. 1698-9.
Men, and to make the whole World eafy and happy, it commanded Governors to exerciſe
their Power with Juſtice and Uprightneſs, with Clemency and Prudence, and all Sub-
jects to obey with Reverence and Submiffion, with Patience and Contentedneſs; but it
came not to alter Conftitutions, nor to give either Governors or People more Power
and Authority than they had before: For if it had, it had brought a Sword along
with it, it had come to ſet the Princes of the World at Variance with the People,
and the People with their Princes; to prejudice Men's Civil Rights and Liberties, and
put them in a worſe Condition, as to this World, than they were in before, by over-
throwing fettled Laws, by undoing Compacts and Agreements, the only Preſervatives
of Civil Society. In a word, there would be no End of the Miſchiefs that would en-
fue
upon underſtanding Chriftianity to oblige all People of the World alike to Obedi-
ence and Submiffion to their Rulers, without refpect to the different Laws and Confti-
tutions of different Kingdoms and Governments; and it would be a very bad Account
and Character of that Religion: Whereas, if Chriſtianity came to urge Obedience to
the Laws of every Country (not barbarous, obſcene, nor impious, nor any ways ex-
ecrable) it came to fecure that Country in the Way and Manner it thought the beſt
and fitteft for its Intereft and Happineſs, and brought a Bleffing with it; and fhewed
both to Prince and People, what was the Meaſure and the Rule of the one's Power,
and of the other's Obedience; a Thing moft neceffary to be known, where the Event
is of fo great Importance, both in this World and that to come. Since therefore Chri-
ſtianity came not to make the Laws that Subjects must obey, but to urge the Subjects
to obey the Laws made by the Legiſlative Power, where-ever that refides: there is no
Reaſon why it ſhould be charged with any of the Miſchiefs or the Inconveniencies of
a Government too abfolute, or too much limited: And therefore, (to bring the Mat-
ter home) the unlimited Extent of Power, placed in the Prince's Hands, or the Sacred-
neſs of his Perfon, or his being unaccountable to any one for his Proceedings, are
Things that depend entirely on the civil Conftitution, and we muſt know them from
the Laws, and the continued Ufages and Cuftoms of the Country, immemorial, or
agreed upon.
No doubt but Kings may take up Crowns on pitiful and wretched Terms, as well as
Subjects willingly ſubmit their Liberties to the Will of Princes; and each of them
muſt ſtand to the Conditions, though very inconvenient ones, till they can honeftly
obtain better. I know no better, and no other certain Rule for all the World to con-
fider than this, Look to the Conftitution, look to the Laws and Customs of a Country, if
you would know the Prince's Power or Peoples Privilege. It is not to the Men of
great Reaſon, and much Reading, the fineſt Speculators and Effayers, one ſhould be
referred to upon
thefe Occafions; but to Hiftories and Records, the Laws and Statutes,
Cuſtoms and Ufages that are accepted in a Nation; and therefore, where by thefe, we
find the Lives and Liberties of Princes are held facred and inviolable; it is to no pur-
poſe to object the Inconveniencies, both real and imaginary, that may ariſe from fuch
Impunity. Look to the Laws and Conftitution. I fee, in fuch a Cafe, no Way is left,
but to ſay with David, in the Text, The Lord fhall fmite him, or his day ſhall come to
die, or he fhall perish in the battel; but God forbid, that I should stretch forth my hand a-
gainst the Lord's Anointed.
The Lord ſhall ſmite him, or his day ſhall come, or be ſhall perish in the battel; that is,
I leave him to God's Difpofal; let God, the Judge of all the Earth, do with him as he
pleaſes. And though we think the leaving wicked Kings to God, is the lighteſt and
the kindeft Expreffion of nothing in the World that can be; yet we would quickly al-
ter our Opinions, and be of David's Mind, if we would give ourſelves leave to confider,
First, That he hates Injuftice more,
Secondly,
before the Lord-Mayor and Court of Aldermen.
ΙΟΙ
Secondly, That he is much more ready, And,
Thirdly, Much more able to puniſh it, than we can be.
Firſt, He hates it more: He hates it purely for the Malice of its Nature, and its in-
trinfick Evil; we only for our own and Intereſts fake, becauſe we either feel or dread
its Miſchiefs. He hates Oppreffion, Tyranny, and Cruelty, becauſe they are the
Contradictions of his own Divine, and the Corruptions of our human Nature: They
are directly oppofite to his moſt glorious Attribute of Juftice, to his moſt gracious
ones of Mercy and Compaffion. He looks with Indignation on thoſe haughty Sons
of Violence and Injuſtice, that abuſe the Power that God intrufted them, and the
great Titles that he honoured them withal, for the Uſe and Benefit, to the Deſtructi-
on and Confuſion of the World, only to fatisfy their cruel Rage, or vain Ambition.
There is not a Groan nor Murmur of the poor oppreffed, but makes its Way to Hea-
ven, and finds Acceffion to the Throne of Grace; he numbers all our Sighs, and counts
our Tears, and notes down our Afflictions in his Book, and treaſures them in Wrath,
againſt the Day of Wrath. And if we would be ſtrong and patient for a while, and
tarry
but the Lord's Leifure, we ſhould certainly fee, he is a God that hates and pu-
niſhes Iniquity.
Secondly, He is much more willing to puniſh wicked Governors than we can be.
Not that the Goodneſs of God is fo ready to afflict or grieve the Sons of Men, as they
are to deſerve it; or that the human Fury does not fometimes anticipate the divine
Vengeance; but that it is more preſent to his Nature, and more immediately his Will
to puniſh Sin, than it can poffibly be with us. The Love of Juſtice, and the Hate of
Sin, is fo effentially united to his Being, that one may fooner fancy no Divinity at
all, than that it is not willing to reward the proud Oppreſſors after their defer-
vings.
Men may be bribed by Paffions, Intereft and Affections, fome from purfuing, o-
thers from adminiftring, the Juftice due to great Offenders. The Fears and Threat-
nings of Difpleafure, the Hopes of Favour and Advancement, the Charm of foft
Words, and the natural Pity of Mankind, have oftentimes diverted the moſt reſolved,
and laid the Fury of the moſt enraged. But God, as he ſees not with Men's Eyes, fo
neither is he moved with human Motives; but is inflexible in his Decrees, which are,
to puniſh great Delinquents with great Wrath; and has declared, that nothing but fin-
cere Repentance can prevent his Judgments.
And, Laftly, He is much more able. He is able to punish them in this Life,
and in the next: He can puniſh them in this Life, by defeating all their Enterprizes,
and blaſting all their Purpoſes; by infatuating their Counſellors, and turning the
Wiſdom of Achitophel to Folly and Deſtruction; by fuffering the Enemy to fow
Diffenfions, Strife and Diſcord in their Nations; by alienating the Affections of
the People; by ſcattering the Spirit of Fear and of Diſtruſt throughout their Ar-
mies, and caufing them to turn their Backs upon their Enemies; and by reducing
themſelves to Mifery and great Diftrefs; and fometimes fuffering them to periſh
by the Sword, or fome more ignominious Death, as well as common Men. But if
this be not enough, let them know, that he is able, after he has deftroyed the body, to
caft both foul and body into hell fire. Tophet, faith Iſaiah, the xxxth and the 33d, is
prepared for the king, he hath made it deep and large: the pile thereof is fire, and much
wood; the breath of the Lord, like a ftream of Brimstone, doth kindle it. Hear therefore,
O ye kings, (in the vith of the Wisdom of Solomon) and understand; learn ye that be judges
of the ends of the earth; give ear you that rule the people, and glory in the multitude of Na-
tions; for power is given you of the Lord, and fovereignty from the highest, who shall try
your words and fearch out your counfels; because being minifters of his kingdom, you have
ICC
not
102
A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Cathedral, Jan. 30. 1698-9.
not judged aright, nor kept the law, nor walked after the counfel of God; horribly and
Speedily fhall be come upon you; for a sharp judgment shall be to them that be in high
places; for mercy will foon pardon the meanest, but mighty men ſhall be mightily tormen-
ted.
And is it not a fearful Thing to fall into the Hands of the Living God, thus fhar-
pened and prepared to execute full Vengeance on ungodly Governors? It is not there-
fore fo unreaſonable and trifling a Thing as is commonly reputed, to ſay, that wicked
Princes muſt be left to God; it is faying, they are left to one that hates them with a
perfect Hatred; to one that will and can pour out the Vials of Wrath upon their
Heads, as neither Eye can ſee, nor Tongue expreſs, nor Heart of Man conceive, and
that to all Eternity.
And having thus gone through my Text, I ſhould in the last place, apply myſelf to
the fad Occafion of this Day's affembling; but having been ſo free in handling the firſt
Parts, I ſhall ſcarce be allowed to do right at full to this; and there is, I hope, the
lefs Occafion for it, becauſe the fad Hiſtory is ſo well known, and ſo fufficiently re-
gretted and deplored by honeft Men; and the Defign efpecially of this Anniverſary
being more for the Ufe, Inftruction, and Advantage of the living Subject, than for
the Praiſe and Honour of the dead King; the Difcourfe I have raiſed from the Text,
will, if attended to, anſwer the greater and the better End; and there is little need to
meddle with the ſecond and the leſs.
That Prince's Praiſes ſpeak themſelves aloud; and though Misfortunes add great
Luftre to Mens Virtues, and fet them off to great Advantage, (as Tears fhew fome
fair Faces yet more beautiful) yet Charles the First might well have paſt for one of
our moſt excellent Kings, although he had not had the Exerciſe of fuch Afflictions as
he met withal, but had been always fortunate. But having had the Advantage of
thoſe Trials, and thereby practiſed many other Virtues, rare and unſeen in Kings, I
know not now whom to prefer before him; and God forbid I ſhould be thought to
put him under the Diſadvantage of repreſenting Saul in the Compariſon. He was (and
that is as much as I can fay) no more like Saul, than any of his Murtherers was like
David. If there was fome Mifgovernment, and ſome unhappy Male-adminiſtration
in his Reign (as who can be fo ignorant and partial to deny it) we muſt, if we will
be juſt to the Truth, diſcharge his Perſon, in great meaſure of it, and lay it where it
ought to lye, much of it on fome of his indiſcreet and zealous Servants, who were
unqueſtionably Men of better Meaning than Abilities, and who appear (at leaſt at ſo
much Diſtance) not to have underſtood fufficiently the Ground they ſtood upon, the
Times they lived in, and the Men they had to deal withal; and ſomewhat on the
Paffions of her, who, though fhe could intend no ill to him, yet through her Fondneſs for
her Party, (that conftant Miſchief to this Nation) embroiled him firft with his di-
ftempered People. But having taken this Liberty, I ought to add, that never were
Miſcarriages improved to fuch a Height, nor aggravated with more Malice: Their Ad-
verfaries got fome Truths, and uſed them, as the Devil does the Scriptures, always
perverfely, and to bad Purpoſes; they mingled them with odious Calumnies and Slan-
ders, and treacherous Infinuations; and made them help to make the ſtronger Poiſon,
and to diſperſe it more effectually into the Peoples Veins.
As to the Perfonal Virtues of this Prince, Envy itſelf hath never yet found any
Thing to fay againſt them: Sober and temperate to a wonder, chafte to his Queen,
and faithful to his firft Vows; of fo pure Innocence, and fuch unfpotted Sanctity in
that behalf, that Calumny hath never fixed fo much as a Sufpicion on his Reputa-
tion. And for his Zeal to God, and his Devotion to his Service, his conftant Atten-
dance and good Behaviour in his Prayers, his firm Adheſion to the Church, not out of
Prejudice or pertinacious Obftinacy in what he had been educated, but true and folid
under-
before the Lord-Mayor and Court of Aldermen.
103
underſtanding of her Conſtitution, with his great Care and Love to all her Miniſters,
as they were made his Crimes and Accufation by his Enemies, fo by his Friends they
have been made an Objection to God's Providence, in fuffering fuch a righteous Prince
to fall into the Hands of fuch abominable People; and fuch an Objection as muſt
ſtay (they think) to be ſolved by that great Day, when all fuch Arguments will cer-
tainly be fully anfwered, and all fuch Clamours filenced, and all the World fhall fee
and feel that God is juft, and no Unrighteouſneſs dwells with him.
And yet we cannot ſtrictly ſay, this Day's Offence hath been hitherto unaccounted
for, and unavenged. No Man (I think) can affign any one Head, to which we may
fo properly aſcribe the continual Troubles and Alarms that have for many Years diſtur-
bed this Nation, the vaft Calamities and moſt amazing Diftreffes it has laboured under,
as to the atrocious and moſt execrable Action of this Day, and its moſt curfed Confe-
quences, the debauching both the Morals and Religion of our Princes and great Men.
Had not our Sins increaſed with our Afflictions, I ſhould have hoped, this Day's Of
fence had now been fully expiated, by that long Train of Miſchiefs that have followed
by way of Confequence, if not Retaliation. But if there yet remain any Dregs of
Wrath for us to drink, I know of nothing that can poffibly prevent them, or fupport
us under them, but true fincere Repentance, which through the Merits of the Blood
of Chrift, will wash away all paft Offences, reconcile us again to God, and fit us
for what future Favours we ſhall want, either as private People, or a Nation, and
he in his abundant Wiſdom and Goodneſs fhall fee expedient for us.
}
A SER-
104.
A
RM
SERMON
Preached before the KING at White-Hall, on
Tuesday, Nov. 5. 1700.
MATTHEW XXIII. 15.
Wo unto you Scribes and Pharifees, Hypocrites; for ye compass fea and
land, to make one Profelyte; and when he is made, ye make him two-
fold more the child of hell than your felves.
O
par-
UR Saviour being fent of God, to reform the World in general, and in
ticular the great Corruptions that had overfpread the Jews, his own People,
both in their Practice and Opinion, found the greateſt Oppofition to his
good Defign from the Scribes and Pharifees, who being in great Reputation
with the common People for their fcrupulous, precife Obfervance of all the Traditions
of the Elders, and a ſeeming Auſterity of Life and Manners, led them where-ever
they pleaſed, and prejudiced them exceedingly against his Doctrine and his Perfon.
He therefore fets himſelf to undeceive thefe People, and let them know what falſe
and wicked Men theſe their Guides and Directors were, and how unworthy of their
Admiration and Eſteem; that they were not in the leaſt the Men they would appear
to be; but endeavoured, in all their Actions, to make a fine Shew of Zeal and Holi-
neſs, without any Truth or Subſtance at the bottom; and covered very bad Defigns
under theſe Maſks and fair Pretences. Upon this Account it is, that in all his Denunci-
ations of Wo and Wrath to the Scribes and Pharifees, he alfo adds, that they were
Hypocrites. He fays, They bound heavy burthens, and grievous to be born, on other people's
boulders, but would not themselves move them with one of their fingers; laid heavy Pe-
nances on others that offended, and told them a world of Things were abfolutely ne-
ceffary; but lived themſelves at eafe, free from that Difcipline; that all they did, was
to be Jeen of Men, and to receive their Praife and Honour, living wholly to the World,
and its Applauſe and Intereft, without any good Deſign in any Thing they undertook.
Amongſt other Reproofs, this of the Text is one: That the very Zeal which they
ſhewed in converting Gentiles to the Jewish Faith, was at the bottom ſtark naught,
and tended only to the greater Miſchief of thoſe poor People who were converted by
them. Wo unto you Scribes and Pharifees, Hypocrites; for ye compass fea and land, to
gain one profelyte; and when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell, than
yourſelves.
Which Words we will, First, Confider in themſelves. Secondly, See what Uſe we
may make of them: And, Laftly, Make what Application may be proper to this pre-
fent Occafion.
I. Of the Words in themſelves. To make a Profelyte, is to gain one over to our
Party or Opinion; and for a Jew to make a Profelyte, was to convert a Gentile from
his Belief and Worſhip of many Gods, to the Belief and Worſhip of the One and
only true God, and called by the Jews the God of Ifrael. Some there were, who
were thus converted, and went no farther; others were perfuaded to embrace the
Jewish
at White-Hall, on Tueſday November 5. 1700.
105
Jewish Faith in all its Branches; to be circumcifed, and to keep the whole Law of
Mofes, and to be made thereby Partakers of all the Bleffings promiſed by God to Abra-
ham's Children. The firſt of theſe were indeed Profelytes to Senfe and Reaſon, and
returned to Natural Religion, rather than Profelytes to the Jewish Faith; any farther
than that the Belief of one God was the chief Article of it, and that a Jew became
the happy Inſtrument of bringing them to Reaſon. It is therefore very probable, that
the Profelytes of which our Saviour ſpeaks in this Place, were of the latter fort, ſuch
as were circumcifed, and ſubmitted to all the Laws of Mofes, and whatever elſe of
Rites and Ceremonies, Cuſtoms and Traditions, were then held neceffary at home,
and preached abroad by theſe new Miffionaries. To compafs fea and land, is, to take
great Pains, to labour hard, and to go a great way, to undergo much Difficulty, and
much Hazard, as they who make great Voyages by Sea, and Journeys by Land, are
wont to do. To make one twofold more a child of hell than himself, is, to leave him in a
worſe Condition than you found him by a great deal; to make him wickeder, and con-
fequently much more liable to Puniſhment.
We muſt ſee a little into the Meaning of this. The bringing Gentiles from the
Worſhip of many Gods to the Worſhip of One and the True one, was certainly a
good Work, and therefore is not here condemned, we may be fure, by Chrift; and
the bringing them to the Jewish Faith, to the believing all that Mofes and the Pro-
phets had faid, was ſtill better; for thither our Saviour himſelf remits the Jews,, when
they would know, who, and what he was: Search the Scriptures, faith he, for in them
ye think ye have eternal Life, and they are they which testify of me. This was the beſt
Preparation they could make to receive him as the Meffiah, promifed by God to the
Fathers, and ſpoken of by Mofes and the Prophets. Here the Particulars both of his
Life and Death were to be found; and upon this Account, the Jews, who had theſe
Scriptures in their Hands, and were obliged to read them carefully, are much more
faulty in rejecting the Meffiah, than others could be, who heard of no fuch Writings,
nor received them as infpired Books; and therefore knew of no fuch Promiſes or Pre-
dictions to be fulfilled. The converting therefore of Gentiles to the Belief of Mofes
and the Prophets, was the beſt Difpofition they could put them in for entertaining the
Meſſiah, when they ſhould fee him coming; and therefore the Zeal of theſe converting
Miffionaries, as far as it intended and effected this, was good, and was not condem-
ned by Chriſt, we may be confident. And becauſe the Jews were themſelves circum-
cifed by God's Appointment and exprefs Command, and could not otherwife be called
Fews, nor enter into Covenant with God, nor be Partakers of the Bleffings and pecu-
liar Privileges promiſed them as fuch; it is very probable, they muſt induce the Con-
verts they intended to make, that they might be Partakers of the fame Promiſes, to
enter into the fame Covenant, by the fame Way the Jews did, namely, by being cir-
cumcifed; and confequently they muſt become debtors to the whole law, and conform
exactly to its own Rites and Ceremonies, as the original Jews did. Nor does there
appear any thing blame-worthy in all this; for befides that Chrift himſelf fubmitted to
Circumcifion, and obferved the Law of Mofes, we find not any where, that he con-
demned any one for doing the like. And though he intended to abrogate that initia-
ting Sacrament, and all the ceremonial Law of Mofes, in its proper Time, and might
therefore think fuch Converfions to Judaifm at fuch a Time, and fo near the Period he
would
put
to it, not very ſeaſonable or neceffary; yet it is not to be thought, he would
condemn with fuch Severity and Sharpneſs, the Zeal of fuch as ſhould attempt to
convert the Gentiles to perfect Judaism, which they thought neceffary, and he himſelf
had not as yet declared againſt, or diſapproved.
Since then the Scribes and Pharifees were not themſelves the Children of Hell
for their being Jews, and for believing Mofes and the Prophets, fubmitting to Circum-
I D d
cifion,
106
A Sermon preached before the KING,
ciſion, and obſerving the whole Law; we are not to think their Profelytes and Con-
verts became Children of Hell, by becoming Jews; and much leſs doubly fo, and
worſe than their Converters. But we muſt needs remember, that the Scribes and Phari-
fees are every where repreſented by Chriſt, as the great Corrupters of the Jewish Faith;
they had fo gloffed and commented upon the Scriptures, that Truth was obfcured and loft
under them; they had fo darkened Prophecies, that they had wholly laid afide the Expe-
ctation of their Completion at their proper Times and Seaſons; or applied them ſo to o-
ther Matters, that the People were diverted to Objects they had nothing to do with,
and could not look to the Things that moſt concerned them; they had fuperinduced fuch
a world of Rites and Ceremonies to thoſe that Mofes had commanded them, (which
one would have thought had been enow) that Mofes would himſelf have hardly known
his own Inftitution; and they were intolerably troubleſome, by a moſt fanciful Signi-
ficancy, and became through Weakneſs and ſuperſtitious Fear, fo neceffary in the moſt
common Actions of Life, that they were looked upon as Parts of their Religion; and
Men became defiled and abominable by Neglect of them, and pure and holy by a
nice Obfervance of them; they had made fuch an Expofition on the Commandments,
that a Man might almoſt keep every one of them in breaking them. Our Saviour tells
them, they had made them of none effect, through their traditions; and a great part
of
his Buſineſs was, to bring them again to their old Senſe and Signification; his Ser-
mons were divided betwixt Ye have heard of old, and but I fay unto you other-
wife.
In a word, the Corruptions that reigned, and had done fo a great while before
amongſt the Jews, were incredibly great, and moft deplorable: And, in truth, their
Practice went hand in hand with them; their Doctrines were exactly calculated for Eaſe
and Liberty, and for Indulgence to Vice and all Enormities. Our Saviour hated Sin
with the moſt mortal Hatred, becauſe he knew the Miſchief that it did to thoſe he lo-
ved, and knew what it at length would coft him; but never did a holy Prophet treat
Sinners with more Mildnefs, Pity, and Good-nature, with lefs Upbraidings and Re-
proaches than he, where he diſcerned the leaſt relenting Tenderneſs, or Inclination to
Goodneſs. And therefore one may eafily believe, that where he is moved to ſpeak the
ſharpeſt and ſevereſt Things, and to denounce fuch Woe and Wrath, there was the
greateſt Cauſe, and juſteſt Provocation for it that could be; and therefore we may con-
clude, the Scribes and Pharifees were certainly the worſt and wickedeft of Men.
This we may take for granted, becauſe the Goſpels are ſo full of it.
But what is the Connexion betwixt their being fo wicked, and their Profelytes being
as bad, or much worfe? With fome Probability this, -That they who were them-
felves fo tainted and corrupted both in Principles and Practice, would infufe the fame
corrupt Principles into their Diſciples, and form them to the fame Practice with them-
felves: They would deliver them the Law of Mofes, the Leffons of the Prophets, and
the Sum of the Jewish Faith, as they themſelves had learnt it, with all the falfe Gloffes,
trifling Comments, unwarrantable Additions, wicked Diſtinctions, Relaxations, Dif
penfations of Duty, Commutations for Neglect; and in a word, with the whole cor-
rupted Maſs of their Traditions, which made the Jewish Church, at this Time, fuch
an Abomination to Chrift. There was all the Likelihood in the World, that People fo
very looſe and wicked, would propagate their Errors and Corruptions; and the Difci-
ples then muſt needs be as wicked as their Maſters.
To fay the Profelytes would be twofold more the children of hell, than they who made
them Profelytes, is an exaggerating Speech, and rather condemns the Mafters than
the Scholars: They who pretended fo much Zeal, would teach the Gentiles fuch a
Doctrine as would leave them worfe than it found them; it would
pervert their very.
natural Principles: and that which true Reaſon would inſtruct them in, and urge
them
at White-Hall, on Tueſday, November 5. 1700.
10
them to do, would be defeated by Traditions of their Maſters, and falfe Expofitions
of Commandments which came indeed from God.
I will give an Inſtance or two of this, becauſe it is of Moment. We are made by
God, by ſtanding in need of one another's Affiftance, to love one another, and to
do each other all good Offices; in this we are inftructed by the Light of Nature, and
when we are fecure ourſelves, we need no Command of God to carry us to the helping
others in Diſtreſs; we do it of our own Accord, and condemn ourfelves in the Neg-
lect of it, if we cannot make fome good Excufe. This natural Obligation the Jews
delivered themſelves from, by expounding fome Commands of God, which forbad them
clofer Commerce than ordinary with idolatrous Nations, for fear of being infected
with their abominable Practices, to fuch a rigorous and unreaſonable Extremity of
keeping Diſtance, that they would not ſo much as do the common Offices of Huma-
nity to any but Jews; they would fee a Heathen periſh for want of Neceffaries, rather
than ſupply him with them; they would not ſo much as look kindly, nor ſpeak a
good Word, much leſs beſtow a Benefit on any one but Jews. They were remarkable
for their morofe, and fullen, and ill-natured Manners, and were equally hated and de-
ſpiſed by all the World that knew them. This was not owing to Nature, nor to
God's Commands, if rightly underſtood, but to a falfe and corrupt Expofition of them,
begun in Error, and continued on by naughty Cuftom, and became in Time a vene-
rable Tradition.
That which follows is much worfe. The Light of Nature teaches all the World,
without a poſitive Command of God, to fuccour and fupport our Parents Neceffity;
whether driven to it by Age, Infirmities, by Loffes or Misfortunes, it is certainly our
common Duty to do it, and nothing can diſpenſe with it, according to our Abilities;
but the Jews determined, that if a Man had devoted his Eſtate to the Ufe of the
Temple, or any Part of God's Service, he was then acquitted of his Duty to his Pa-
rents; and if they came to him in never ſo great Diſtreſs, and begged his Help, he might
anſwer them, No, it is Corban, that Eftate with which I might have profited you,
is dedicated now to God by Vow, and I can do you no farther Service. Thus, faith
our Lord, have ye made the commands of God of no effect or Obligation, by your tradi-
tions. Theſe are plain Inftances how the Light of Nature may be extinguiſhed by
pretended Revelation; and as plain Proofs, that ſuch a revealed Religion (i. e. corrupt-
ed fo) is worſe than Gentilism; corrupting their natural Notions of Good and
Evil, and putting them on Practices that Reaſon, whilft untainted, would abhor.
But if theſe Words are to be understood exactly in the Letter, that the Profelytes
would become much worſe than they who gained them over, (of which I think there
is no Neceffity) then we may fay, that fo our Saviour faw it would actually be,
though he affigned no Reaſon why it would be fo: But this we alfo may ourſelves ob-
ſerve, that ſo it ſometimes happens, that People exceed their Maſters and Corrupters
in their own wicked Way; and outdo their Originals, becoming themſelves Examples
and great Models of Perfection in corrupt and finful Practices. But as it is eaſier much,
fo it is more probable to think, our Saviour intended, by this fevere and angry Scheme
of Speech, to fay the Scribes and Pharifees, notwithſtanding all their Zeal for Con-
verſion of Gentiles, had better have let them alone; for that being themſelves ſo abo-
minably corrupt, they could not but make their Profelytes more wicked than they
found them, and as bad as themſelves, and confequently make them liable to grea-
ter Wrath and Puniſhment than they had been, had they continued in their Igno-
rance and Darkneſs.
II. Let us fee, in the Second Place, what Uſe we may make of theſe Matters.
And that will be, at this Time, to obferve theſe Two Things: First, That wicked
Men
108
A Sermon preached before the KING,
Men may be as full of Zeal as good ones, to propagate their Errors and Corruptions.
And Secondly, That therefore Zeal is not of itſelf to be regarded, but with reſpect to
the End it aims at, the Means it uſes to accompliſh the End, and the Effect that is
like to follow.
First, Wicked Men may be as full of Zeal as good ones, to propagate their Er-
rors and Corruptions. Theſe Scribes and Pharifees, ſo often called upon by Chriſt,
(and always for their Faults) were full of Zeal for converting Gentiles; and this is more
obfervable, in that there is no Command in all the Jewish Law, obliging the Jews to
labour for the Converfion of the Gentiles; a certain Sign this Law was not intended to
be the ſtanding Rule, and the Religion of the whole World. There is indeed Provifi-
on made in feveral Places of the Law, how to receive and uſe Strangers, in caſe they
were willing to become Jews; and in the lxth of Iſaiah, there is a large Prophecy,
that Kings, and Nations, and many People ſhould be gathered to them; which may
partly be applied to the Jewish State before Chrift's Coming, though much more pro-
perly and truly to the Church of Chrift. But there was no Command of God to ſet
the Jews upon this Work of gaining them; and therefore the Zeal of doing it was fo
much greater, in being voluntary; and moreover, this their Zeal was accompanied
with many Difficulties and Hazards, it coft them Time and Pains, and much Mo-
ney; fuch Undertakings require them all; They compass fea and land to gain a Profe-
lyte. No Dangers frightned them, they left their native Country, their Parents and
Relations, their Eafe, Eftate, and all Conveniencies of Life, to enter on a ſtrange Cli-
mate, unuſual Diet, and a new way of living; they ventured on unknown Countries,
People of a new Tongue, new Cuſtoms, and new Manners; and it may be, where
there were inhoſpitable Laws and rigorous Edicts againſt Foreigners, and Death itſelf
denounced to fuch as would dare to decry the Religion, Gods, and Worſhip of the
Country, and introduce a new Superftition. But neither the Storms and Tempeſts in
their Paffage, nor Death in all its frightful Shapes at Sea, nor all the Hazards of their
Landing, and continuing in a ſtrange Country, could hinder them from coming to
convert them: No Confiderations could abate their Zeal; the Defire they had of doing
them the greateſt Good imaginable, carried it above their Security and Self-love, and
private Intereft, and all their Fears of Death and Danger.
Here is one among us that pretends to preach up Reformation, and exclaims upon
the great Corruption of Faith and Manners that prevails among us, and eſpecially his
Superiors, the Scribes, and Pharifees, and Elders: He pretends, above all others, that
his fole Aim is the Glory of God, and the Good of Mankind. But, Do the Pains he
takes, the Hardſhips he fuftains, his tedious Journeyings by Land, or his perilous Voy-
ages by Sea, do theſe give Teſtimony to his Zeal and good Deſigns? Are theſe like the
laborious and hazardous Undertakings of the Scribes and Pharifees, who compaſs Sea
and Land to make a Profelyte, who think that all is well beftowed, if they can ga-
ther up but one poor ftraying Sheep into the Fold of God's Church?
This was the Zeal of thoſe againſt whom the Woe in the Text is denounced; they
were, with all this Zeal, moſt wicked and corrupt People; and I think, I need not
ſpend much Time in ſhewing that Zeal is common to all Men, of all Parties and Con-
ditions, and is never, in itſelf, a Token of either a good or a bad Man, or of a good
or bad Cauſe, or Defign; it is a natural Fervour and Warmth of Temper, raiſed higher
than ordinary by fome particular Confiderations; and apt to be fo raiſed by that Readineſs
the Spirits and Blood are always in to Motion. And it has always been obſerved, that
the worſt Cauſes and Defigns have been purſued with the greateſt Degrees of Zeal, by
the worſt of Men. Whether it be, that good Men truſt too far to the Truth and Juſtice
of good Cauſes, believing their natural Force and Power to be much greater than they are;
or that they think they are fo much the Care and Protection of God's Providence, that
they
!
at White-Hall, on Tueſday, November 5. 1700.
109
they may flacken their own Diligence, and leave it to him to fecure, who loves their
Caufe, and is very able to look after it, and very much obliged, they think, in Juſtice
and Honour to do it. Whatever it be that occafions it, it is commonly enough ſeen,
that good People fall into Languors, Lukewarmneſs, and Indifference, and proſecute
a good and righteous Cauſe with more Remiſsneſs, and leſs Zeal than is truly reafona-
ble, or than becomes them; and that wicked People purſue their unjuſt Deſigns and cor-
rupt Intereſts with fuch Intention of Zeal, fuch Application, Diligence, and earneſt
Solicitation, that nothing can ftand before them. Zeal therefore, of itſelf, though
never fo painful and laborious, and running never fo great Hazards, is not to be re-
garded.
But, in the Second Place, reſpect muſt needs be had to the End it propoſes, the
Means it pitches on, and the Effect that is like to follow.
Firſt, We muſt look to the End that Zeal propoſes, whether it be good or bad,
or mixt. The Pretence may be God's Glory, and the Salvation of Souls; the bring-
ing People to the Knowledge of the Truth, and the correcting their bad Manners:
This is an excellent and noble End, and worthy of all the Zeal, and Pains, and Ha-
zard, that a Man can take and run; but this muſt be well looked into, for this is ge-
nerally pretended to by all Undertakers of Converſion, and makes their Way clear be-
fore them; and there is no doubt but the Scribes and Pharifees recommended them-
felves to their intended Profelytes by theſe Pretences, when yet, if we believe our Savi-
our, they thought of nothing leſs: They had other Purpoſes, and were excited by
other Motives than God's Glory, and the Good of Souls; they had their own Intereſt
and Vain-glory, and the making Parties. I feek not yours, but you, faith St. Paul to
the Corinthians. But there are Miffionaries of another Mind, that feek not Souls, but
Gain, or Men for their Eſtates Sake; and this is always to be well confidered. Look
well about, what Sort of Countries theſe great Zealots chufe for Conquefts; if it be
Tyre, or Sidon, or Damafcus, rich and trading Cities; or fome obfcure and poor,
though populous Inland Places; and to what fort of People they apply themſelves;
whether the noble, generous, and wealthy, or to the poor and meaner ones.
if their Children flock to Swedeland, Denmark, Norway, Lapland, Ruffia, or to the
poorer Quarters of America, with ſo much Haſte, and in fuch Numbers, as to Mexi-
co, Peru, the Eastern Indies, and to England. See if the Glory of God and the
Good of Souls make ſo much Noiſe in the cold and barren North, as they do in
warmer, and richer Climates, where Men reward as well as God; and yet where
Souls are full as valuable and dear to him, as in the Land of Havilah, where there is
Gold and Bdellium, and the Onyx-ftone. Look therefore well to this, before you fo
commend the Zeal of thoſe who compafs Sea and Land to make a Profelyte; fee if
there be no Intereft at the Bottom.
Mark
Another End that Men may have and ferve by theſe Converfions, is, Vain-glory,
the Pride and Pleaſure of being thought and reported fo zealous of propagating the
Converſion of the World. It is not to be thought, without fearching carefully into
the Bottom of one's own Heart, and obferving narrowly the Principles and Practices
of other People, what ſtrange and difficult Things a Man's Vain-glory and Thirſt of
Fame and Commendation will put him upon, and make him undergo; what Pains
and Labour he will be at, what Hardſhips he will ſuſtain, for the Reward of empty
Praiſe and Admiration? The Glory of excelling other People, of being eminently
fingular, and diſtinguiſhing one's felf from the common Maſs, hath occafioned Men to
run a thouſand Hazards both at Sea and Land, to do a thouſand Wonders, and has
written at leaſt a hundred thouſand Books. Let us make good uſe of every thing we
can; but this light Fancy is a great Ingredient in almoſt every human Compofition.
When we go to reaſon and think in earneſt, we can hardly have the Confidence to
I E e
charge
110
A Sermon preached before the KING,
charge any one, that he takes great Pains and runs great Hazards to fatisfy his Vain-
glory, and to obtain the Praiſe of doing ſomething that other People do not, without
intending any other better End; when yet, if the Man would fpeak his Mind freely,
this Principle is furely at the bottom. I make no other Ufe of this fad Truth at this
Time, than to ſuppoſe that Men may be ſtirred, even to undertake the beſt Deſigns,
by the Defire of Praife and Glory, Approbation and Eſteem, and to be thought fo
zealous of God's Honour and Man's Good, as to venture Life and Liberty to promote
them without intending them in earnest. I fee no Reaſon to conclude better of the Miſ-
fionaries concerned in the Text, their whole Defign being to make a good Appearance,
and to fhew well to the World, and to be praiſed of Men; and the taking fo much
Pains, and running fo much Hazard, by compaffing Sea and Land to make a Profe-
lyte, was as likely to make a Shew of true Zeal, and gain them the Admiration of
the World, as any thing elſe, thoſe Things being the Tokens that Men are truly in earneſt.
The making Parties is alſo another End that defigning People may poffibly aim at,
even in making Converts. This indeed does ufually follow, whether Men defign it
or no; the Profelytes do generally adhere to their Converters Intereſt and Party with
great Good-will, with the utmoft Zeal and Pertinacity; and are evermore the war-
meſt in defending their new Choice, and in promoting it, and in withſtanding and
bearing down all its Oppofers. This was found true in the Apoſtles Days, and Juftin
Martyr complains. of it in his; and all Men have cbferved, that the new Converts are.
ftill the forwardeſt and moſt preſumptuous, flaming with Zeal, as if they were to re-
deem the Time of their Ignorance paſt, make an Atonement for their former Oppo-
fition, or Neglect of Truth; and by fomething extraordinary, convince the World of
the Sincerity and Earneft of their Converfion, making fuch quick. Advances, and fuch
forward Paces, that they may never think of cooling and retiring. This Temper is
exceeding fit for Parties, and a rare Spirit for purſuing worldly Intereſts; and therefore
they who have Deſigns of fuch a fort to ſerve, cannot do better than to make as many
Profelytes as they can to their Religion, who are thereby engaged moft deeply in
their Interefts.
1
Next to the End of Zeal, we are to confider the Means it uſes to attain it: For.
true Religion will not be beholden to Evil, to obtain the Good it aims at; it acts moſt
uniformly with itſelf, and pitches upon Means exactly juft and honeft; it pretends not
to fanctify, by ufing them, Means that are in themſelves unhallowed and abominable;
but takes the Courſes that are before acknowledged to be juft, and reaſonable, and
lawful, to compaſs its End by. If the Glory of God and the Good of Souls be the
true End of thoſe who would convert and make Profelytes, the Means must not be
fuch as would diſhonour God, and prejudice a Soul difintereſted and reaſonable, againſt
them. There muſt be nothing of Falfhood, Cruelty, Impurity, or Impiety in them;
for each of them are unworthy of God, and unbecoming a good Religion. There
muſt be nothing contrary to our natural Notices; nothing contrary to our Senſes;
nothing contrary to the common Notions all Men have of good and evil. Whoever,
in a word, to bring a Man to his Religion, will ufe fuch Means as that Religion does
itſelf abhor and forbid, is not acted certainly by the true Spirit of that Religion, but
by miſtaken Zeal at leaſt, if not fome worſe Principle: But becauſe a Man, before he
be a Profelyte, will hardly underſtand thoroughly what that Religion forbids, or ad--
mits of, he will be fafe enough in rejecting that Religion that countenances Falfhood,
Inhumanity, impure Practices, or any thing that ſtands condemned by the Light of
Nature, and the common Reafon of Mankind.
And ſo one may fay, in the laft Place; if the eafy, natural, or common Effects of
the Principles of Religion be like to be diſhonourable to God, and unworthy of fo goodi
a Name, we may conclude againſt it, and condemn the Zeal that would promote it;
for
1
at White-Hall, on Tueſday, November 5. 1700.
iii
for true Religion never can in itſelf, or juſt Confequence, either diſhonour God, of
do Miſchief to Mankind.
In paffing our Judgment therefore upon Zeal, we muſt not barely regard the Pains
it takes, nor the Hazards it runs in compaffing Sea and Land to make Profelytes; but
ſeriouſly reſpect the End it truly aims at, (not what it pretends) the Means it uſes to
compaſs that End, and the Effects that are likely to follow. All theſe Things muſt
be confidered, when we would underſtand, whether the Zeal of making Profelytes be
truly good and laudable; for if either the End be naught, or the Means unlawful, or
the natural Effects of fuch Converfion be the Corruption of good Manners; the Pains
and Labours of the Miffionaries, and the Hazards they run, are no good Arguments
in their behalf: For the Scribes and Pharifees took all thefe Pains, and ventured all
thefe Hazards, and yet were Hypocrites; they compaled fea and land to make a Profelyte,
and all they did by it, was, that they made him worſe than he was before; and worſe,
if it could be, than themfelves. This is the Ufe we may make at this Time of theſe
Words of Chrift.
III. The Application of what has been faid to the Occafion of our prefent Meeting,
may be this. We are to give God Thanks for the Deliverance of this Nation here-
tofore, from the Contrivance and Defign of wicked Papifts, to murder King and
Prince, Biſhops and Judges, Lords and Commons, met in Parliament, all at one
Blow; a Work of the moſt devilish and deliberate Malice, quickeſt Execution, and
moft dreadful Confequence that can be thought upon. And, in the next place, to
give God Thanks for a Deliverance of the Nation, of a freſher Date, from the De-
figns of the fame Party, to deftroy the eſtabliſhed Church, (for they pretended Kind-
neſs to the reſt, and they believed them) to overturn our Laws, and govern by a Force
that we were Strangers to. Of theſe two Deliverances, the Firft was accomplished on
this Day, by the Discovery of the Powder-Plot: The Second was begun by the King's
Arrival on our Shoars, in order to preferve our Church, to ſettle and confirm our
Laws, and to have us governed by them. Theſe two Deliverances happening on the
ſame Day, we are to give God Thanks for both of them at the fame Time. Now
both thefe dangerous Seafons, and all that came between them, were entirely owing
to that intemperate, reftlefs Zeal for our Converfion, with which theſe Children of the
Scribes and Pharifees inceffantly purfue us; and for which they compaſs Sea and Land.
And fince there is no Plea that fooner makes them Way, and gains them a more fa-
vourable Admiffion, nothing that prepoffeffes Peoples Minds with kinder Prejudice,
than ſeeing the Voyages and Journeys that they take from Foreign Countries, their
Perils by Water, and Perils by Land, their Perils from Strangers, and Perils from their
own Countrymen, from Clamour and Ill-will, and Penal Laws, and all to gain a
Soul to God, and the true Religion; I thought it not amifs to fhew you, what a Zeal
the Scribes and Pharifees had to make Profelytes in the like manner, and what Pains
they alſo took to compafs Sea and Land for the fame Purpoſe, and yet they were Hy-
pocrites themſelves, and Corrupters of thofe they would convert; and that therefore
Zeal alone was not to be regarded, without the Confideration of the End, the Means,
and probable Effects of fuch Converfions. Let us, to fave a little Time, ſuppoſe
theſe Emiffaries, who are, in proper Time and Place, as fharp and avaricious as the
Jews, or Banian Merchants, the Maſters of Sedition, Turbulence, and Faction, and
the greateſt Self-admirers in the World; let us ſuppoſe them, for once, to be, with
reſpect to us, the moſt difintereſted, undefigning, open, modeſt, humble Men, that
can be; and to have no other Aim or End, than the Glory of God, and the Salvation
of Engliſh Souls; yet what ſhall we do to juftify the Means they take to compaſs this
End by? Will the good End fanctify Falfhood, Villany, and Treachery, the Deſtru-
Єtion
112
A Sermon preached before the KING,
ction of all our Liberties and Civil Rights, the Overthrow of all our Laws, and the
delivering us up a Prey to the Infolence of arbitrary Power? And if this cannot be
brought about by civil Means, by artful Management, and Methods of Perfuafion;
will it juſtify fuch wicked Courſes, and fuch inhuman Cruelties, as were defigned this
Day, to put an End to ſo many great and precious Lives among us? Was this the way
to fave the Souls of thofe intended Victims, had they been purified by this ftrange
Fire, and fitted for the Mercies of the Almighty? The End, I doubt, muſt be for-
gotten here; and this muſt be their Way to bring their Children unto God, however
ill it go with the poor Parents. But will the Children be inclined to think theſe Means
are proper for Converfion, and for begetting a good Opinion in them of the Reli-
gion to which they were invited? What Sort of God is it, that is delighted with theſe
human Sacrifices? Does fuch a fanguinary Doctrine fuit with Chriſt, who claims from
God his Father, and from a ſoft and tender Virgin-Mother? Will Children be induced
to leave the merciful good Principles of Natural Religion, for theſe moſt violent and
brutal ones of a pretended Revelation? Can theſe abominable Cruelties make
any other
Impreffions on Standers-by, than thoſe of Hatred and Abhorrence, and a Refolution
of flying from them as foon as poffibly they can? The Nero's and the Maximins, the
Decii and the Diocletians, thought this the Way, and took theſe Methods to extirpate
Chriſt's Religion: They were moft happily miſtaken. But who would think that
Chriſtians, knowing this, ſhould fall in with the fame Courſes, with juſt the contrary
Defign? Who would fufpect Religion ſhould be planted, ſettled, and confirmed by
Violence, by its great Friends, when its great Enemies uſe the fame to root it up and
deſtroy it? And yet we may defy the whole World to give us an Example (one Ex-
ample) where Popery could, with its own Security, have ruined and deſtroyed fuch as would
not ſubmit themſelves to it, and did not. Popery is really an Ufurpation on Chrifti-
anity, and like Ufurpers, lives within its Guards, Inquifitors, and Dragoons; it fettles
and fupports itſelf by Gibbets, Axes, Halters, by Fire and Sword, and all the Inftru-
ments of Death, and cruel Executions. As I know there is no Encouragement to
theſe Proceedings from Chrift's Religion; fo I would only aſk them Reparations for the
great Scandal and Diſhonours they do hereby to Natural Religion, and to the common
Principles of Reaſon and pure Humanity.
Let us fee, in the last place, if the Effects be anfwerable to the Pains that are taken
for our Converfion, when they take Place. How is the Matter mended with us? How
is the Glory of God promoted, or the Good of Mankind, or the Salvation of Souls fur-
thered? Do they tell us any thing of God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoſt, that is con-
tained in the Scriptures, which we did not believe before? Have they one Article of
Faith, of Chrift's making, that we receive not equally with them? Or, in the Point
of Duty and good Morals, is there one Command of Chrift that he enjoins us to do,
but we acknowledge we ſhould do it; or one Thing he prohibits us, but what we own
we ſhould abstain from? To what new Rule muſt we fubmit and turn? If that
be not true Chriſtianity, to believe all that our Lord enjoins us to believe, either by
himſelf or his Apoftles, to do whatever he commands, and to omit whatever he pro-
hibits, to make the Word of God the Rule of Faith and Manners, to live in Union
and Communion with our Paftors, Biſhops, Prieſts and Deacons, rightly ordained,
(even by our Adverfaries themſelves at firft, if that will pleaſe) and in Love and Cha-
rity with one another; if this be not true Chriſtianity, and indeed enough, where are
we like to learn what is? And if it be, to what are we converted but Party? Is God
more honoured by praying to Saints and Angels, than to him alone? Do we as much
glorify our Lord, by making a Thouſand Mediators of Interceffion for us, as well as
He? Do we honour and much Pleaſure to a jealous God, to pray to any of his Ser-
vants for the fame Favours and like Graces that we aſk of him? Does he regard us
more
at White-Hall, on Tueſday, November 5. 1700. 113
more for kneeling down and offering up our Prayers, not to ſay Incenſe, before an Idol
or an Image? Does he delight rather to hear his People pray in an unknown Tongue,
than with their Underſtanding? Or is he better pleaſed with the retrenching of the
Cup, than with his own Inftitution? I have neither Mind nor Leifure to fpeak to the
Particulars in which we differ, the Diminutions and the Additions they have made from
and to Chriſt's Religion, in both which true Popery confifts. It is only to my preſent
Purpofe, to ſay, that there is not one Point of true Popery, that can make a Man a
truer Believer, or a better Man than he was before in our Communion: And therefore,
to what are we to be converted? What have we to believe, or what to practiſe, but
what we own ourſelves obliged to do before?
How long then, ſhall we bear theſe Scribes and Pharifees among us, that are not on-
ly unneceffary, but pernicious to us? One would have thought, that the Contrivance
of this Day had ſo juſtly provoked our Anceſtors, that they would never more have
ſuffered fuch Incendiaries amongft us; but have executed conftantly the Laws they
had juſtly made againſt them. It is better indeed to repent of Mercy fhewn, than of
Severity; but it is not good to repent of that too often. Inftead of Quiet and Securi-
ty gained by this Relaxation and Remiffion of Penal Laws, the Nation gave
this Faction Breath and new Spirit. Unfeaſonable Condefcenfions do ſometimes pro-
voke to greater Infolence; and Mercy ill diſpenſed, i. e. to vile, ungenerous Spirits, is
looked upon as Fear, and encourages to bolder Undertakings. It is now fome Ninety
five Years fince this Confpiracy was to have taken Place; yet from that Day to this, they
have not loft a Foot of Ground among us in their general Intereft; yet from that Day
to this, they have been digging down our Walls and Fences, and undermining our
Security; contriving the Deſtruction both of Church and State. The Nation was de-
livered on the Fifth of November, and on the Sixth we may well prefume they began
again to carry on the fame Defign of ruining our Peace by other Methods, which they
have purſued, even to this Day. Our Hiſtories and our Memories are full of the Di-
ſturbance they have given us; they have contributed no less than all they could to the
Misfortunes both of Prince and People; they occafioned a world of Troubles to one,
and terribly embroiled another; and to a Third, their Kindness, Favour, and Affift-
ance, were as fatal, as their Malice and Oppofition could have been, had they carried
them never ſo high. Then did this lucky Day ſhine bright again, and brought a new
Deliverance to the Nation; but would they make it only a Deliverance from a preſent
Storm of Violence that was ready to pour upon us? Our Enemies live again, and are
mighty; it thundred for a Day or two, and they were frightned, and retired into their
dark Receffes; but when the Noife was over, they returned again to their old Buſineſs,
our Converſion; and have fince that, been bufy at it, in deſpite of all our Laws and
Statutes; we are indeed delivered from their open Infults, we would be alfo from
their ſecret Underminings, from their Seduction of our People, their leading captive filly
women, and fuch as are laden with divers lufts. What do they here, in a Place, where
they acknowledge no King, no Church, no Chriſtians, but themſelves and Party, un-
leſs it be to give us all theſe Things, they think we want? Why do they haunt our Sick,
frequent our Priſons, and creep into Peoples Houſes, raife falfe Reports, detract from
our Advantages, exaggerate our Misfortunes, and reproach our Government? In a
word, to compleat our Deliverance, we would intreat thoſe Sons of Zeal, to return a-
gain unto their Holy City; and both for ours, and for their own Sake, to ſpare their
painful compaffings of Sea and Land, to gain a Profelyte, fince they make him
thereby a worſe Chriſtian, and a worſe Subject than they found him.
I Ff
A SER
114
À
SERMON
Preached before the Gentlemen Educated at
Eton-College; at St. Auftin's Church, London,
on December 6. 1701.
To my Worthy FRIENDS,
Humphry Gore, Efq;
Fran. Pemberton, Efq;
Philip Percival, Efq;
Will. Cradock, Efq;
Thomas Betts, Efq;
John Eekins; Efq;
Mr. Thomas Pellet.
Mr. Henry Hoare.
Mr. Godf. Woodward.
Mr. Edward Progers.
Mr. James Ford.
Mr. Joſeph Williams.
STEWARDS
S
INCE, Gentlemen, it is at your Requeſt alone that I make this Sermon publick,
it will lye upon you to make it as useful as you can to your felves and Acquaintance, by
following the Advice it gives you yourfelves, and encouraging them to do the like. Nothing
can do greater Honour to Eton School, than that the World fhould fee thofe who are educa-
ted there, diſtinguiſh themſelves by Virtue and good Manners, as well as Learning. If this
Difcourfe fhall contribute any thing to this good Purpoſe, it will be worth your while to have
aſked it of me; if not, I ſhall have lost my Labour, though not my good Intentions of doing
you Service. I am, Gentlemen,
}
1
Your Humble Servant,
W. FLEETWOOD.
A Sermon preached before the Gentlemen, &c.
II
JOB XXVIII. 28.
And unto Man he faid, Behold, the Fear of the Lord, that is Wisdom,
and to depart from Evil is Underſtanding.
O B is, in this Place, endeavouring to perfuade his Friends, that they were mif-
taken in their Accounts of God's Providence; that this was not the Courfe he
took in governing the World, that the Good ſhould always flouriſh, and the
Wicked always fuffer in this Life; that it was the worſt Way of judging either of
Men or Cauſes, by Events; fince God had not appointed any certain and invariable
Rule to act by, but acted always well and wifely to be fure; but yet by Counfels un-
fearchable, and by ways paft finding out. That, though he had made Man very curi-
ous and inquifitive, given him a large and comprehenfive Soul, endued him with Abi-
lities and Powers of great Extent, and that he was a wife, fagacious, underſtanding
Creature, and could fearch very deep and wide into the Caufes and Effects of Nature;
yet that the Providence of God in governing the World, in ordering and diſpoſing of
Men's Perſons and Affairs, was what they never could arrive at, a Thing removed be-
yond their Reach, a Secret not imparted to the World, but referved to the Knowledge
of God alone. This is the Connexion of this Chapter to the Twenty Seventh going
before. You would, perhaps, know, why God puniſhes fome Men, and not all;
with the like Queſtions; but all the Wit and Learning of the World cannot tell you
why. Surely there is a vein for the filver, and a place for the gold where they find it.
And then he proceeds to fum up feveral Difficulties, wherein the Wit and Induſtry of
Men had fucceeded in their curious and laborious Searches; but Verſe 12. where ſhall
wiſdom be found? and where is the place of understanding? Poor Man may tire and lofe
himſelf in painful and folicitous Enquiries after the Reaſons of God's Government, but
never fhall be able to find the Bottom of that Secret. And to fhew it was not to be
purchaſed by him, (the ſeven next Verſes are employed to ſpeak the Praiſes and the Va-
lue of this Knowledge; and at laſt, to put a Stop to all our Hopes and farther Searches,
he tells us, Verſe 23. God underſtandeth the way thereof, and knoweth the place thereof.
He underſtands, and none but He, the Way and Method of his own Providence;
He only knows the Place where Wiſdom dwells, which only is within himſelf; and
fince he is not pleaſed to communicate this Knowledge, it is our fafeſt and our wiſeſt
Way to reft ourſelves content without it; to make no farther Searches after what is
hidden on purpoſe from us, either becauſe it would be uſeleſs to us, or elfe be
cauſe we are too weak to bear it. But then, that he might not feem to refuſe
us any thing that is truly excellent and ferviceable to us in this mortal State,
he imparts to us a Secret more defirable, and better worth our knowing by
a great deal; and that is, how to govern and behave ourſelves amidst the va-
rious and unequal Diſpenſations of his Providence; that however the World might
go, we might be fafe if we would; telling us, that if our Searches were in earneſt
after Wiſdom and Underſtanding, he would direct us fo infallibly, that if we would
but take the Courſe preſcribed, we ſhould not fail of arriving to what we aimed at.
And unto man he faid, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to de-
part from evil is underſtanding.
Secret things belong to the Lord, (faith Mojes, Deut. xxix. 29.) but thoſe which are re-
vealed belong to us, and to our children, that we may do all the words of this law. How
God difpofes of his Creatures, and how he orders all Things here, is a fecret of the
Lord, and will be fo; and we, with all our Reaſon, cannot fathom that Abyſs, and
therefore it belongs not to us to enquire or know: But what he has revealed, belongs
entirely to us, and was revealed for that very purpoſe, that we might underſtand and
practiſe it. And that in ſhort is this, That to fear the Lord is wisdom, and to depart
from
116
A Sermon preached before the Gentlemen
from evil is underſtanding. This it is given to Man to know, this is enough to make
him happy; this is fufficient, this is proper for him, this anfwers all the Ends of all
the Wiſdom and the Underſtanding in the World: Nor can the Knowledge of God's
Providence, or Way of governing the World, nor the Knowledge of any thing, or
every thing befides, compare with this, nor contribute near fo much (if any thing at
all) to true Happineſs; this indeed is Happineſs itfelf; that which gives us Eafe and
Peace of Mind, perfect Tranquillity and Reft within, whilft we live here, and fills us
full of good Affurances and comfortable Expectations for the future, and frees our
Hearts of Fear, that troubleſome uneafy Paffion; all which together make up perfect
Happineſs.
By the fear of the Lord, may be underſtood the whole of Religion; it being uſual
enough in the Scriptures, to exprefs the whole of our Duty, by fome remarkable and
neceffary Part of it: Or elſe it may fignify that Principle of Fear on which we act,
the very Bottom of all Religion, and without which, there would be no fuch Thing
as Religion in the World: And it is here expreffed by departing from evil, which are
Terms that fignify the fame Thing; and fo are Wisdom and Understanding. So that
though there be two Sentences in the Text, yet they mean but one and the fame
Thing; for he that feareth the Lord, will unavoidably depart from Evil; and there
are Cafes wherein Men would not depart from Evil, unleſs the Fear of God prepoffeffed
their Minds. And he that feareth the Lord, fo as to depart from Evil, or that departeth
from Evil, becauſe he feareth God, is a wife and underſtanding Perfon: So that turn it
on which fide we will, the Propofition ſtill comes out the fame, That to be religious,
to fear God, to depart from evil, is a man's wisdom and understanding. And this will ap-
pear more evident from thefe following Confiderations. First, It is that in which
all Sides and Parties are agreed, and therefore has the faireft Plea to Wiſdom that can
be. Secondly, It is that without which all other Points of what we call Wiſdom, will
fignify little or nothing. Thirdly, It is that which of itſelf, and without the reſt, is
fufficient to denominate a Man wife and underſtanding. Lastly, It is that alone
which God appoints and defigns us to be wife in, and therefore, we may be fure, it is
the best and trueſt Wiſdom.
First, It is that in which all Sides and Parties are agreed, and therefore has the
faireſt Plea to Wiſdom. All other Parts and Points of Wiſdom are controverted; and
Men argue with equal Heat, and equal Confidence, and almoſt equal Reaſon, one
againſt the other, in Defence of what they like themſelves, and in fubverting what
they diſapprove in others. That which is accounted Wiſdom in one Nation, is ac-
counted Folly in another, and fometimes little leſs than Madneſs; and that which
has obtained in one Age with all Affurance poffible, becomes in the next a Matter of
Diſpute at leaſt, and appears in another contradictious and abſurd; and Men begin to
wonder how their Fathers could be fo perfuaded, how they came to take
up with ſuch
weak and ill-grounded Principles, and build fuch fenfleſs Superſtructures on them;
how they could mifs fuch plain and reaſonable Conclufions as appear at firſt Sight, and
dwell fo long in Ignorance and Error; nay, and the Opinions that have reigned for
many Ages abfolute and uncontrouled, become at length, by fome unlucky towring
Genius rifing up in Oppofition, the Matter of as much Derifion and Contempt, as
they were formerly of Wonder and of Veneration. With what an arbitrary Sway
did Ariftotle rule the World for near two thouſand Years? And all the Schools of
Europe, Afia, and of habitable Africk, fwore into his Words without Premedita-
tion. They did no more fufpect his Skill, than they would have done, had Jove
himſelf (according to their Fancies) dictated from Heaven: And yet the Wiſdom of
this Oracle is now become the Theme of Declamation, and it is made a Doubt
whether
}
Educated at Eton-College, Decem. 6. 1701.
117
1
whether he underſtood himſelf or no; and Boys admire at the Succeffion of his Schools,
and at the Number of his Followers; and conclude the World was cheated, or afleep
for fo many Centuries of Years; and though his Philofophy be the greateſt, yet it is not
the only Inſtance of Peoples Levity of Judgment, and Inconftancy of Opinion in the
Matters of Wiſdom. Others have had their Reigns as well as he, and fwayed the Ge-
nerations that they lived in by the Truth, or by the Reputation of their Wiſdom and
their Learning; and yet we can recover little of theſe Men beyond their Names, and
thoſe we owe too chiefly to the Confutation of their Wiſdom and Philofophy by others;
who, either by Revenge or Wantonnefs, have undergone the fame Fortune from fuc-
ceeding Generations. So that the Hiſtory of Learning is made up moftly of a conti-
nued Series of Confutations of former Opinions, and of new ones fubftituted in their
Rooms, to be in Time and Order ferved as they were. And fo it is in other Matters;
the former Politicks are now out of Countenance and Credit, and it is thought a Won-
der how the World was governed by them; the former Customs appear ridiculous, and
improper to their Purpofe; and generally fpeaking, all Particulars in which Men are
ſuppoſed to exerciſe and ſhew their Wiſdom and Underſtanding, are either antiquated
by Time, and laid afide, as Things ufelefs, or baffled by new Experiments; either onë
Age confutes the Wiſdom of another Age, or one Party controverts the Wiſdom of
another in the fame: And even the Science that pretends to Certainty itſelf, is fubject to
this Variation; and Men write Books of Demonftration against each other, and fhew,
(they think) by undeniable Conclufions, the Truth of different and contrariant Pro-
pofitions. And all theſe Things have happened, not from fooliſh and perverſe Gainſay-
ers, from Men of little Underſtanding and great Confidence, from Men that know
nothing, and oppoſe every thing; but from Men of great Abilities, of deep Search and
Thought, and equalling, in all Refpects, the Parties whofe Opinions they difpute
againſt, and whofe Judgments they oppofe. But it is not fo with fearing God, and
departing from evil; in this, all Ages, Times, and Places are agreed, all Parties have
concurred in this, that this is Wifdom, this is Underſtanding; even they who differ
from each other almoſt in every thing, and one would fometimes think for very diffe
ring's Sake, yet are agreed in this; even they whoſe Practice is ftark naught and every
way abfurd and wicked, yet give their Judgment and their Voice in Favour of this Wif
dom; nay, they whofe Judgment is as corrupted as their Practice, will give their loud
Opinion and their publick Voice in behalf of Virtue and Religion, and conclude that
it is Wiſdom, that they may not be accounted fooliſh and unreaſonable themſelves:
They will concur in Appearance at leaſt with the Reft of Mankind; which ſhews, that
that is the general and prevailing Notion of the World, in which alone it is agreed on
all hands; and therefore certainly it has the faireft Plea to be accounted Wiſdom, and
to be looked upon as Underſtanding. If upon propofal of feveral Opinions of feveral
People, we conclude that to be the likelieſt and moſt probable, in which the moſt con-
center and agree, we were fure to gain the Point in behalf of Virtue and Religion; for
they, as yet, have carried it without Conteſt. This indeed is Matter of Judgment or
Opinion only; for if we muſt conclude by Practice, we are as much undone on the
other fide, and fure to loſe the Cauſe by almoſt as many Voices; but this is not the
to judge of Wiſdom. But yet this Contradiction of Men's Practice, and Defiance bid
to their Judgment, make much for the Truth that I am trying to eſtabliſh; for if nei-
ther a continual Habit of ill Practice, nor the Force of ill Examples all around, nor the
Profit, nor the Pleaſure of Sin, can fo far corrupt Men's Judgments, (in the general)
as they ſhall pass them in favour of it; but that notwithſtanding all this, and all their
other Differences and Difagreements, they concenter all, and terminate all in this,
That to fear the Lord, is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding: The leaſt we
can conclude from hence is, that abſtracting from its being told us fo in Scripture, it
1 G g
way
has
118
A Sermon preached before the Gentlemen
!
has in Reaſon and fair Conſtruction, the fulleſt Plea to paſs for Wifdom in the
World.
Secondly, It is that, without which all other Points of what we call Wiſdom, will
fignify little or nothing. Not that other Points of Wiſdom are not uſeful and con-
venient; for they are more than ſo, they are abſolutely neceffary to the conducting us
in our Affairs, and to the attaining of thoſe Ends, which we are bound to purſue, i. e.
fuch Things as we cannot live without, and which yet we cannot attain, without be-
ing wife in many Particulars; but this is hereby meant, that even the being wiſe in
many, or in all Inftances befides, without being virtuous and religious, will fignify
little or nothing to the making People happy, which yet is the Aim and End of Wif
dom: So that nothing is hereby detracted from Wiſdom and Underſtanding in any
good and lawful Kind, if it be in Conjunction with the Fear of God, and Love of
Virtue; but without this Conjunction, all other Wiſdom is unprofitable, and contri-
butes little to the making People happy; for to be happy, it is neceſſary to be at
eaſe both in Body and Mind; in Body as far as it is poffible, but to be fure in Mind.
And though the being virtuous and religious will no more fecure a Man againſt the na-
tural and certain, or the accidental Evils and Misfortunes of Life; though they will
neither make a Man of a ſtronger Conſtitution to bear, nor help: to prevent moſt of
the Evils that befal the Body, any more than any other particular fort of Wiſdom
will do; yet Virtue and Religion will make any or all the evil States and Conditions of
Life more eafy and fupportable, than any other Wiſdom of any other fort will do.
What Eafe or Confolation is adminiftred to a Man that lies under the Torture of ſome
ſharp and violent Pain, or fome vexatious lingring Sickness, from the Confideration
and Remembrance of having read a thouſand Volumes, of knowing all the great re-
markable Events of every Nation, of underſtanding all their Regiments, their Wi-
dom, and their Failings? To have fearched into the inmoſt and moſt ſecret Receffes of
Nature, and have purſued her through all Difficulties and all Obfcurities, to have
fought out Countries unknown, and to have travelled far and wide throughout the
Univerſe, and have converſed with them in all their feveral Languages; to have out-
done the greateſt Maſters in their feveral Faculties, and have exceeded them in each
his Excellency;
all this affords a Man in his Extremities but little Comfort, no
Joy or Satisfaction rifes from any fuch Remembrances or Confiderations: And yet
theſe ſeveral Attainments are each of them accounted Parts, and confiderable Parts of
Wiſdom. So that the Wiſdom of Religion contributes more to the making People
happy, than all the Wiſdom of the World befides, as it makes the evil States and the
calamitous Conditions of Life more eaſy and ſupportable than all the reft can do. But
then for the other Part of Happineſs, which confifts in the Peace and Quiet of Mind,
and without which Health itſelf, and every other Bleffing, is as nothing; Religion is
infinitely fuperior to all other Wiſdom, both as to getting it, and keeping it: For
fince to be truly happy, it is neceffary to be at eaſe, to be void of all Sufpicion, and
freed from Fear of Danger of any Evils that may happen after Death, and that no-
thing can fecure Men from theſe Fears but Virtue and Religion, it is evident that they
contribute all to the making People truly happy, and that all other Wiſdom fignifies
but little. It is impoffible but that all Men fhould be confcious of their Guilt, con-
ſcious of offending God; and they muſt alſo know, that Puniſhment is always due to
Guilt, and therefore that they are to look for Puniſhment: This is an unavoidable Con-
cluſion, and the Mind will make it, in ſpite of all Oppofition. And though the De-
lights of Sin, and the Variety of Diverfions, call Men off from thinking on theſe
Matters feriouſly, and give them frequent Interruptions, fo as to hinder them from
making cloſe and ſerious Applications; yet it is not poffible for them always to decline
:
theſe
Educated at Eton-College, Decem. 6. 1701.
119
theſe Kind of Reflections; they will return, and take their Opportunities, and leave
their Sting and Torment in the Mind. This is that which ſpoils the Happineſs of
wicked Men, and embitters all their Pleaſures; there is fomething that perpetually
haunts them, and purfues them with unwelcome Remembrances; and in the midſt of
Joy, often dejects the Countenance, and fills the Heart with Sadneſs: And this, no
Wiſdom of the Earth can long prevent, or ever remedy; this can be done alone by In-
nocence and Virtue, and Religion, by the Wiſdom that is from above, the Wiſdom of
fearing God and departing from evil. This can only keep the Mind at Eaſe and Quiet,
this only frees it from thofe Jealoufies, and fad Diftrufts, that naturally attend Men's
evil Practices, and from the Dread of Puniſhment that Reaſon tells them muſt be con-
fequent of Guilt. It is too dangerous a Thing to make the Experiment one's felf, and
therefore let another be adviſed withal that has; let him be aſked, Whether the Re-
membrance of having been as wife and cunning in his Dealings, (of having under-
ſtood the Intereft of all Nations, and efpecially his own, of having read all Books,
and travelled all Counrries, and fpoken all Languages,) as any one whatever, if
any fuch Remembrances as thefe afforded any Quiet to his Mind, if they van-
quiſhed any Fears, or gave him any Hopes, that his Guilt was wafhed a-
way, that the Puniſhment of his Iniquity fhould not overtake him, that he might
lie down in the Grave with Peace, and rife again to any Joy or Recompence.
If the Reflection on any paft Felicities, the Acquifition of a fair Eſtate, the bear-
ing many honourable Offices, the having contracted great Relations, Friendſhips,
and Dependencies, the having lived a Life of Mirth and Luxury, and having had the
World at Will, has been able to lay the leaſt Rifing of his Confcience, to prevent the
ſmalleſt Pang, or cure the lighteſt Jealoufy and Diffidence of Heart? And
yet Men
think themſelves, and the World accounts them very wife, that have ſo ordered their
Affairs, as to be Maſters of thefe Matters, and attain to theſe Abilities. They are,
in Truth, ſo far from adminiftring any Eafe or Comfort to the Mind in its Diftrefs,
that either they are never thought upon at all in fuch a State or Seafon, or thought upon
with Trouble and Concern: But Virtue and Religion feed the Mind perpetually, and
cauſe it to forget all its Afflictions; the Joy of Innocence raiſes the Soul above Op-
preffion; and a lively Senfe of Gbil's Favour relieves Men under the foreft Evils and
Diftreffes of this Life. Now if it be impoffible to be truly happy without this Eaſe
and Peace of Mind, and that this Peace is moſtly wanted, and moſt ſerviceable in the
Days of Trial, in Trouble, Sorrow, Need, Sickneſs, or other Adverfity; and that all
other Parts and Points of Wifdom, fingle or combined, can in no Meafure or Degree
afford it, and this religious Wifdom can; it muft needs be evident, that this is that
without which all other Parts of Wifdom fignify little or nothing, i. e. contribute lit-
tle or nothing to the making People truly happy. And fince it is the End and Aim of
Wiſdom to make Men happy, that which contributes little to the attaining of that
End, will hardly deferve fo good a Name; at leaſt, it will never come in Competition
with that Wiſdom which attains its End infallibly, as does the Wiſdom of fearing
God, and departing from Evil. But
1
}
Thirdly, It is that which alone, and of itſelf, is fufficient to denominate a Man wife
and underſtanding, without any other Qualifications; and that with as much Reaſon as
any other particular Thing does, in that it aims at a certain End, and purfues it by
Means, proper and convenient; therein is our Wiſdom chiefly feen and exerciſed, in
chufing this End, and in proportioning out and pitching upon proper and fuitable
Means to the attaining it. And this makes a Man a wife Scholar, and a wife Statef
man, and a wife Merchant, and a wife Trader; for Wiſdom is not tied to any one
Thing alone, but is exerciſed in any, and in every one; only according as the End de-
1.
figned
120
A Sermon preached before the Gentlemen
ſigned is more or leſs excellent and deſirable, and the Means of compaffing it better of
worſe, more or leſs fitted to the attaining it, fo is the Wiſdom to be accounted greater
or leſs: And therefore the Wiſdom of fearing God, and departing from Evil, is on the
ſquare with any other Part or Point of Wiſdom, with refpect to pitching on its End
and Means; yet becauſe that End is infinitely the beſt and nobleft End, and becauſe
thoſe Means are much the ſureſt Means of compaffing their End, therefore the Fear-
of God, and the departing from Evil is much the beſt, the fureft, and the trueft Wif
dom. And if any one, although but tolerably good End, and good Means pitched
upon, and compaffed by them, be fufficient of itſelf to denominate a Man wife and
underſtanding, the pitching on the beft of Ends, and beft of Means, muft certainly be
fufficient to the fame purpoſe. Shall a Man be accounted wife becauſe he knows how
many Kings governed in fuch a Country, and what great Accidents befel the States un-
der their ſeveral Reigns? Or becauſe he can number up the Confuls in their Order, and
can, it may be, prove in many Sheets, that fuch a one's Name is miſtaken a Syllable
more or lefs, and his Year affigned him too foon by three or four? Shall a Man be ac-
counted wife, becauſe he knows what Signification fuch and fuch a Word bore in the
Days of Ennius, and how it changed in Auguftus's, and decayed in Trajan's, and was
perfectly loſt in Conftantine's? Shall a Man be almoft adored, that can tell where the
Politicians of old were found defective, and where they acted prudently and fafely for
the State? Or eſpecially if he himſelf can foreſee a Storm arifing, and can prevent its
falling there, by otherwife diverting it, or flying from it? Shall a Man be accounted
wife, for having by Frugality and Induſtry, and by indifferent Infight into Buſineſs,
ordered his Affairs fo well, that he is able to live handſomely, and keep a good Houſe,
and leave his Children and Dependants well provided for, or having feen them well
diſpoſed of in his Life-time; for having amaffed a great Eftate, by pleading handfome-
ly, or trading cunningly, or venturing luckily by Sea? Shall a Man, I fay, be accounted
wife for having fucceeded well in any of thefe Particulars; and not be much more
ſo for having done the beſt Thing in the World, in the beſt Manner? For having fe-
cured an everlaſting Intereſt, by fearing God, and departing from Evil? by making
himſelf as happy here, as Peace of Mind, and a good Confcience, and Security from
every Evil and Danger of the other World, and the Hopes of everlaſting Happineſs can
make him? which is more than any, or all the other Inftances of the Wisdom of this
World can do. And though there are feveral Exigencies when Men may ſtand in
need of, and defire very earneſtly to be wife in fuch or fuch a particular Inftance; yet
when Men come to die, when they begin to think of giving an Account to God, how
they have paſt the Time of their fojourning here on Earth, there is then no Want, no
Defire of any other Sort of Wiſdom than that of having feared God, and departed
from Evil. And yet this is the greateſt Exigence, this is the greateſt and the trueſt
Trial of the Excellence and Uſefulneſs of any fort of Wiſdom that can be: And there-
fore that which affords the Mind the greateſt Comfort, and when it is moſt wanted
is certainly enough to denominate its Mafter and Poffeffor wife and underſtanding
of itſelf.
But, Lastly, It is that alone which God defigns and appoints us to be wife and un-
derſtanding in; and then we may be fure it is the beſt and trueſt Wiſdom. It is that
alone which he commands us to feek and to attain; that alone which he has promiſed
to reward; and that alone whoſe Neglect he will puniſh, and therefore is the only ne-
ceffary Wiſdom. He hath not any where commanded Men to employ their Time,
and Pains, and Study, in the Searches of any Sort of Wiſdom but this. He hath
given them natural Abilities, and beftowed upon them all the Faculties that are uſe-
ful and convenient to the attaining any fort of Wiſdom; but it is with Deſign that
they
3
Educated at Eton-College, Decem. 6. 1701.
12 £
they ſhould all contribute and be ſerviceable to this main Point, that they ſhould all
promote this heavenly Wiſdom of fearing him, and keeping his commandments. He
hath no where enjoined Men to be great Scholars, and wife Stateſmen, excellent Law-
yers, and dextrous Traders, or any other fort of Calling; but he permits them to be
all, or any of theſe; permits them to be wife in their Generations, and approves
their Care and Induſtry, and bleſſes them in their Studies, and in the Proſecution of
theſe ſeveral Ends and Points of Wiſdom, provided they will firſt be wife
towards God, and will firſt ſeek and fecure the Kingdom of Heaven. This
is the only Wiſdom he commands. And this is, 2dly, The only Wiſdom
which he will reward. He will indeed reward the Effects of any other Wif
dom; but then it is fo far only as thofe Effects contribute to, and ferve the Ends of
this divine Wiſdom. He will reward the Wiſdom of a Stateſman, as far as it admi-
nifters to the Glory of God, and the Good of Mankind. He will reward the Wif-
dom of a Judge, as far as it contributes to the doing Juſtice to all, to the fuppreffing
Injuries, and helping thoſe that ſuffer wrongfully. He will reward the Wiſdom of a
Pleader, as far as it contributes to the extricating Truth out of the Entanglements of
fraudulent and cunning People, and fetting it in its proper Light, and reſtoring to
every one his own. He will reward the Wiſdom of a Trader, as far as it contributes
to the employing and relieving the Poor, and the diſcharging honeftly the Duty that he
owes both to the Publick, and his private Relations. There is no Point of Wiſdom
that ſhall go without Reward, if it be well employed; but it is the being well employ-
ed, i. e. to good and righteous Purpoſes, that can alone challenge this Reward, and to
which alone it is engaged. So that here is no Difcouragement to any honeſt kind of
Wiſdom, if it will be fubfervient to the nobleft, beſt, and moſt ſuperior Wiſdom in
its feveral Inſtances; but ftill the Reward is to it only as it is a Part of this religious
Wiſdom. And as no other Wiſdom is to be rewarded, ſo neither will the Want of any
other Wiſdom but this be punished. A Man fhall fare never the worfe in the other
World, for having frequently miſcarried in his Buſineſs here for Want of Underſtand-
ing; for having little Reach, flow Apprehenfion; for frequently miſtaking, judging
amiſs, and without Confideration; and for having been a weak Man: But he fhall be
forely puniſhed for the want of this Religious Wiſdom; there will be no Excuſe or
Plea that fhall avail in his behalf; this kind of Ignorance will be unpardonable; and
this appears
moſt reaſonable and juſt, becauſe it is that of which all the World is capa-
ble; it is in every one's Power to be wife towards God, for otherwiſe it had not been
made a general Duty. The obligation of fearing God, and of departing from Evil,
had not been laid on all the World, if all the World had not, by God's Affiftance,
and their own Endeavours, been able to perform it. It had been hard indeed, if God
had made any other kind of Wiſdom abfolutely neceffary to be attained by all the
World, and given no other Helps than what we ſee he ordinarily does. If every
If every Man
had been bound under the Penalty of everlaſting Death, to be a great Scholar, a great
Mathematician, or read in general Hiftory, or wife in any one particular Inftance; we
ſhould have been at a ſtrange Lofs. If all Men were obliged to be rich and wealthy,
and to attain to honourable Office and Employment in the Court, the Camp, or City;
theſe would have been extremely hard Terms as the World goes, and Men would have
thought themſelves unkindly dealt withal in ſuch a Covenant. But that is not the Cafe
with us; we are obliged to be wife in Matters only that are within our Compafs; we
are tied to fuch a Kind of Wiſdom as every one is capable of getting, and getting as
much as is required of us- -and that is, fearing God, and departing from evil. Thefe
are the Confiderations that may ſerve to eſtabliſh the Truth laid down in the Text by
Job, repeated again by David in the Pfalms, and dwelt upon perpetually by Solomon
in all his Writings, whoſe Authority, in this Point, is fuperior to all others, in that he
would
I Hh
122
A Sermon preached before the Gentlemen
would not (though divinely taught) believe, without a thouſand vain Experiments,
that true Wiſdom, and true Happineſs, were only to be found in fearing God, and
keeping his commandments.
I will not allow my felf to make a tedious Application of thefe Articles; they are
eaſy, plain, and apply themſelves as ſoon as mentioned. The Purpoſe of Meet-
your
ing is, to do fome Credit to your felves, and the Place of your Education, and to re-
new thoſe Friendſhips you contracted in your younger Age. You can do nothing
better to the anſwering all theſe Ends, than ftudying to be virtuous and religious Men;
this will make you happy your felves, uſeful to one another, and reflect the greateſt
Honours on your School.
and
Fame and Praiſe indeed will follow Learning without Virtue; but Fame and Praiſe
are far from making People happy; they have made fome People very miferable, filling
their Heads and Hearts with Pride and Vanity, and Self-conceit, and perfectly over-
fet them. They have fometimes undermined the very Ground they ſtood upon, and
cauſed them to neglect thofe very Parts that raiſed them; by which we have feen Men
of the greateſt Hopes, end in Contempt and nothing. Nothing but Virtue can make
Learning uſeful, and nothing elſe can make the learned happy. See you a Man of
great Abilities, whoſe Mind is not ſeaſoned with the Fear of God and good Principles,
you ſee him in a Difpofition and Capacity of being a miſchievous and perilous Crea-
ture, unfit for private Confidence and Friendſhip, or for Society and publick Truſt.
And as for doing Honour to the Place of your Education, it is impoffible, without
the being virtuous and religious; that Second Mother can neither give it to, nor yet re-
ceive it from degenerate Children. She taught you Languages, and formed you firſt to
Induſtry and Diligence, to Application and Attention, to Truth and Juſtice, to Mo-
defty, Submiffion and Obedience, and every Virtue proper to your Age; She trained you
in the Fear of God early; She made you wait upon him frequently, and bid you do it
with all the Decency and Seriouſneſs you could, compofing your external Behaviour to
thoſe great Notions you would one Day have (She knew) of the great Majeſty you
were before. She taught you to obferve the Diſcipline and Orders of the Church, and
to revere that Conſtitution, that is Rival to the pureft Ages of Chriſtianity, and the
Reproach to, and immortal Hatred of the prefent Corruption. And what will She
not expect from a Soil fo carefully and feaſonably cultivated? She will expect all that is,
wife, and virtuous, and religious. And you will give it Her; you cannot otherwiſe
do her the Honour you intend by theſe Affemblings. The King, whoſe Birth glo-
rified this Day, has in a publick Inftrument declared, that he defigned this School
ſhould be Magiſtra omnium Scholarum. I dare engage one of his Ends was never bet-
ter anſwered, than it has been within our Memory, ſtill is, and ſtill is like to be; all
Things concur to make and keep it flouriſhing. It has excelled all that that Prince
could ever hope or wish for, in the Point of Learning, already; (he died before the
very Dawn of New Learning) but for his other End, good Morals and Religion, his
Hope and Wiſh will never be exceeded; for being a Prince himſelf of exemplary Piety
and Virtue, he aimed at nothing leſs than making others fo, and ſo to the laſt Gene-
ration; ſo that we cannot anſwer fully to his Aims, without directing all our Studies to
the Advancement of God's Glory, and the Good of Mankind, and that is our own
Happineſs. There is I know not what kind of pleafing Pride, in reading that ſuch a
one, famed for his Learning, Wiſdom, Piety, and Goodneſs, was bred in the fame
Place, where we ourſelves were bred; it cafts, we think, fome fort of Honour on us,
and breeds a kind of noble Emulation in our Minds; it should do fo; we owe it to
Poſterity, to leave them as fine Examples, as we found, and better yet, if it be poffi-
ble. And I will not fo compliment our Predeceffors, as not to think the prefent Age
will furniſh out a Number that will fhine to future Generations, in all great Qualities
† Henry VI.
and
3
Educated at Eton-College, Decem. 6. 1701.
123
:
and good, equal to any that have
gone before you. You promiſe this, and you will
make it good, by Learning, Virtue, and good Manners. I will make an End with-
out affuming any Liberty to direct you what to do, or what to let alone on theſe Oc-
cafions; your Matter lies before you; you will only give me Leave to fay, that though
this Day is given to Joy and Friendſhip, yet it will need a little Care to let it go
no farther. We have begun with God, and muſt not end in any thing that will dif-
pleaſe him: It will not become Men of Education, to let To-day's Exceſs furniſh out
Matter of Repentance for To-morrow; the Pleaſure we propoſe to find in theſe Affem-
blings, would be too dearly paid for at that rate. Nor do I prefs thefe Things as Fears
or ftrong Sufpicions, but as Cautions, that may not unbecome me in this Place. I ſhould
have difmiffed with the Words of Nehemiah to the Jews-Go your way, eat, and
drink, and ſend portions to them for whom nothing is prepared;———but that I am
pre-
vented by the good Cuſtom that has conftantly prevailed with you, of making fuch
Collections as become your Qualities, and Liberal Education, and are indeed the Jufti-
fication, and the Honour of fuch Meetings. I have, therefore, nothing left to do, but
to bleſs you in the Name of God, and to befeech him to fulfil you with the Riches
of his Grace, to make you wife with the Wiſdom that is from above, the Wiſdom of
fearing him, and keeping his Commandments; that you may become eminent in all
good Qualities, adorn your feveral Callings and Profeffions, do Honour to the Place of
your Education, be uſeful to one another, and to all Mankind; and after a Life made
happy here by Piety and Virtue, be fo for ever in the World to come,
you
1
AN
125
A N
ESSAY
UPON
YA
MIRACLES.
In Two DISCOURSES.
то
HENRY GODOLPHIN, D. D.
You
And Provoſt of ETON-COLLEGE.
to
•OU know (my honoured Friend) that I pretend to have thought a good while upon
the Subject of the Book I offer you; and that I have been free enough to blame thoſe
who have gone before me, whether Ancients or Moderns, without Diftinction or Re-
Spect to any Name, how great foever; fome, for their downright begging the Queſtion in De-
bate; others for their Neglect, or flight Solutions, of confiderable Difficulties; others
for attributing fo great a Power to the Devil, as feemed, to me, utterly inconfiftent with
the Maintenance of Christianity upon the Foot of Miracles; and most of them for leaving
us Schemes very defective in fome Parts, and very indefensible in others.
I have tried to do otherwife, and if I fay, I think better, it is that I may not pay you
Jo ill a Compliment, as to preſent you with what I had not a good Opinion of my
Self.
However, becauſe I may feem to walk in By-paths, and know my felf as fubject to Mi-
Stakes as other People, I do here publickly acquit you of any Concern a Dedication may
lay you under, to give me any Countenance, if I am charged with either Novelty or Error;
I own I only am anfwerable for my own Faults; and indeed I will fo anfwer for them, as
to amend them prefently, upon the first Discovery of them.
I have no other Ufe to make of your Name, than by its Means, to tell every body elfe, as
well as your felf, that I have an Affection and Efteem for you, equal to the Obligations you
have laid upon me, which yet are greater than all the World befides bath laid upon me:
I will leave it to others, to speak of the good Spirit you keep us in at Eton, with relation
to the Repairs of the College, and the discharging, in all Points, the Truft repofſed in us;
by our Religious Royal Founder; of the Pains you have taken in folliciting the Affiftance
of Benefactors, where the Burthen was much too heavy for us; and of the great Exam-
ple you fet us, in contributing your felf to the re-edifying God's Houfe, where he is
ferved in the most beautiful Simplicity and Plainnefs I ever faw; as far as a Material
Temple can be fo, it is, I think, the exact Refemblance of the Church of England. Thefe
and a great many other Things may be ſpoken of to your Honour, but not by me, in the Man-
ner they ought; at least not at this Time; and I dare fay, you will be content I leave this
Subject,
I li
126
EPISTLE DEDICATORY.
Subject, to come to the Occafion of making thefe Papers publick; for an Account of that
is, as we fee, faſhionable enough.
1
I was, fome few Years fince, thought fit, by my Superiors, to undertake the Defence of
Religion against its Adverfaries of all Denominations, in the fame Place and Manner you
have often heard it done fo much to your Satisfaction, by worthy Men appointed for that
Purpose, who have indeed done great Right to the Subjects they undertook, great Honour
to their Noble Founder; and not without great Reputation to themſelves. But I was
not, (as it pleafed God) at that Time, in a Capacity of undertaking any fuch Charge;
however, I refolved to give fome Proof, fome time or other, that I did not decline that Ser-
vice, either to ſpare my Pains, or fave my Credit. And as I then pitched ( in my Mind)
upon this Subject, ſo I have fince (according to my Leifure) profecuted it, till I brought it
to what you now fee. And I find fince, that I have not been fufficiently prevented by the
Labours of any of thoſe Learned Gentlemen; who, though they have, fome of them, touch-
ed upon the fame Subject, have yet left room for me, or a better Hand, `to dwell more ex-
prefly on that great Proof of our Religion.
As to the Work itſelf, I have taken more Pains to bring it within this ſmall compass,
than would have ſerved to make it a great Book; and to that End, I have made ufe of no
Citations or Authorities, but fet them by, on Purpoſe; contenting myself with Reafon and
Revelation; excepting in a few of the laft Pages, where it was abfolutely needful; and yet
the Nature of the Work led me, I thought, to use a good deal of Repetition, fo that I could
not attain to the Brevity I aimed at.
I have made very fair War with fuch as are Adverfaries to revealed Religion, allowing
them all that they can ask in the Matter before us. I have made fuch Conceffions, as by
unconfidering People will, it may be, be fufpected fooner than approved; but I have ever
thought this was the Way of dealing with them, or, if not fo, that I at least, was not a
Man to deal with them.
If any one ſhall think it worth his while, to confider what I have written, and ſhall
(in a Manner becoming him and me) fhew me my Faults, and give more probable Soluti-
ons of the Difficulties that occur in confidering this Article of Miracles, he shall find how
quickly I can change Sides; and that I ſeek the Truth with fuch Sincerity, that I care not
who it is makes the Discovery, provided I may have a Sight of it. Nay, I shall part (I
hope) contentedly with a little Credit, to gain to the unbelieving World the Satisfaction
that it thinks it wants, from any other Hand, which it may not receive from
mine.
You will excufe me, Sir, for having mentioned thefe Things in a Letter to you; which
had, it may be, better made up a Preface to the Reader; but it was to fave a little
Trouble. I am with all the Respect in the World,
Your moft Affectionate and
moft Humble Servant,
W. FLEETWOOD.
127
An ESSAY upon MIRACLES.
In Two DISCOURSES.
A.
Y
DIALOGUE I.
O U were pleaſed to tell me, Sir, not many Months ago, that you would
find a Time to talk with me, at large, concerning Miracles. I have with
fome Impatience, waited for it, and hope I have found you now at Lei-
fure, to free your ſelf of that Engagement.
B. You have; and I am now at Liberty, to give you all the Satisfaction that I can,
in that Point.
A. Will it not then be neceffary, that you ſhould tell me what it is
Miracle?
you call a
B. An extraordinary Operation of God, against the known Courfe, and fettled Laws of
Nature, appealing to the Senfes.
A. Then I perceive that I muſt know what are the ordinary Operations of God,
what is the known Courſe, and what are the fettled Laws of Nature, before I can be
capable of knowing which are Miracles.
you
B. Yes certainly; for how can you know which are Exceptions to a Rule, unleſs
know the Rule firft? God works no Miracles with reſpect to his own Power, for
all Things are alike hard or eaſy to him; but with reſpect to his Laws, and to the
Courſe of Nature fettled by him.
A. How muft I come to know the Rule in this Cafe?
A Work of God, bei
But, unleſs we know
B. By your Experience, Obfervation, and by the Ufe of your Senfes, concurring
with the Experience, Obſervations, and Senſes of other People. The Operations that
are conſtant, certain, and expected, are thoſe we call the Ordinary Ones. And that is
the known Courſe of Nature, which is the common and the ufual one, with which
we are well acquainted, and which creates no Wonder in us; and thoſe are the fettled
Laws, by which Things have been all along governed. I am content you fhould re-
member Mr. Hobbs's Definition of a Miracle,He ſays it is
He fays it is
fide his Operation by the Way of Nature, ordained in the Creation.
his Operations by the Way of Nature, and how Things were ordained in the Creati-
on, we can never come to know, which and what a Work of God is befide ſuch na-
tural Operation; this we can only learn, by obferving how Things have all along gone,
and how other People have alſo obſerved them to go. For as Miracles are extraordina-
ry Operations of God, befides and out of the Way of Nature, ordained in the Creati-
on, and Appeal to the Senſes; fo it muſt needs be that the Senfes muſt be the ſole and
proper Judges of what the Way of Nature is, that was ordained in the Creation,
which only can be known by Obſervation and Experience.
A. Let me take you right at the Beginning, I pray, that I may give you the leſs
Trouble hereafter. Miracles, you fay, being fo many Appeals to our Senfes, thoſe
Senfes cannot otherwife judge of them, than by comparing their preſent Obſervations and
Experience, with their paft ones; and if they find that Things are juſt the ſame that
they have always been, and that nothing new has happened; then they conclude, there
is no Miracle. This fhews me plainly, that antecedent Obfervations of the Courſe of
Nature, are neceffary to the finding out what Operations are miraculous: And I think
it will follow from hence, that nothing new, ftrange, prodigious, and aſtoniſhing,
can be accounted properly miraculous, unleſs it thwart the common Courfe of Nature,
and
128
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
and overthrow fome fettled Law of the Creation: And therefore, although I wonder
never ſo much at it, having never heard or feen the like, nor, it may be, any one elſe,
yet I account it no Miracle, becauſe I know of no eſtabliſhed Law of Nature that is
fubverted by it. By this Diſtinction, I ſhall ſave you the Trouble, in our future Dif-
courſe, of giving an Account of any Thing, but what is properly miraculous. As for
that Part of your Deſcription of Miracles, which ſays, they are Appeals to our Senfes,
I am fo well fatisfied with it, that I know not what can be objected to it; nor can ima-
gine how it is poffible to judge of Miracles, but by our Senfes; and ſhall therefore take
it for granted, that where the Senfes are not convinced of a Miracle, there neither is
nor can be any Miracle. But is it quite fo fure that all Miracles are the Operations of
God? Can no created Being work a Miracle?
B. Not by its own inherent Power and Virtue, but by a delegated Power it may.
The Courſe of Nature being fettled by divine Power, can be unſetled by no lefs: But
God can yet commiffionate the meaneft of created Beings, with fuch a Power, if he
ſo pleaſe: But then you fee they are but God's Inftruments, which he makes uſe of in
his working Miracles; and therefore a Miracle wrought by the moft fuperior Angel, is
no more his own Work, than a Miracle wrought by the meanest Man living, would
be his. Each is the Work of God alike, whatever Difference there may be betwixt
the Inftruments.
A. How can you tell but ſpiritual Beings (good or bad) may, by the Laws of their
Creation, be Maſters of fuch Force and Subtlety, as to be able to fufpend or interrupt
the common Courſe of Nature, to overthrow its fettled Laws, and work Miracles?
And if they be endued with fuch a Power, how can we know whether, or
when they exerciſe it? Or how can we diftinguiſh their Operations from thoſe of
God?
B. I have ſaid already, that no Power leſs than that of God, can unfettle that eſta-
bliſhed Courſe of Nature, which no Power lefs than his could fettle and eſtabliſh: and
that for theſe Reaſons. 1. Becauſe it would argue a Defect of Power or Wiſdom, to
leave the Laws of his Creation at the Will and Mercy of created Beings; this would not
be, to be the Supreme Director, Lord, and Governor, but to have Rivals, Checks, nay,
and Controllers of his Will and Empire. 2. Becauſe there could, indeed, no Uſe be
made of Miracles, if any one but God could work them, independently on him, and
at their Pleaſure. They could not manifeft a Divine Power, if any lefs could work
them; nor could they atteft to any ones being fent of God, if any other than God
could exercife fuch Power, becauſe they might proceed from one as well as the
other. You could not know I came from, and was fent by fuch a Prince, by my
bringing his Seal along with me, if other People had the fame Seal, and would lend
it to others to uſe as they faw fit. This I fhall have occafion often to inſiſt on ; and you
will find it fojuſt a Conſequence hereafter, that I think you will never be able to deny
it; and therefore if you confider the Nature, Ufe, and Intent of Miracles, you will
either find, that none but God can work them of his own inherent Power and Virtue;
or if created Spirits had that Power given them by God, yet that they could not exer-
cife it, but by Permiffion and Appointment; which, whether, and why, it may
fometimes be given them, may be Matter of Enquiry, in the Proceſs of our Talk.
Let it fuffice at this Time, that I affirm, that none but God can work Miracles, but
ſtill by what Inftruments and Agents he ſees fit.
proper to
prove
A. May it be ſeaſonable to aſk in this Place, whether it be
the Being
of a God by Miracles, to fuch as believe there is no fuch Thing in the World?
B. Miracles do certainly prove the Being of him who works them, becauſe nothing
can act that does not exist. But properly fpeaking, I think they rather fuppofe, than
prove the Being of a God: They fuppofe his Existence, and prove his Power. If you
could
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
129
1
could not convince an Unbeliever of the Being of God, from the Works of the Crea-
tion, produced with ſo much Wiſdom and Contrivance, and preſerved in fo much Re-
gularity and Order, according to fettled Laws and certain Rules, you would hardly do
it from the Interruption of this Order, and from the Overthrow of theſe eſtabliſhed
Laws. But however I will not deny, that they may in fome Cafes, and to fome fort
of People, be properly produced, to prove the Being of a God.
A. But what is the principal and undeniable Ufe of Miracles?
B. Saving all other Ufes, and denying none that may be made of them, I think
the principal one is, the atteſting to the Miffion of any Meffenger of God, and giving
him Credit with thoſe to whom he is fent, i. e. the Man who fays he comes from God,
and works Miracles to confirm the Truth of what he delivers, is for their Sake, to be
believed; becauſe, if none but God can work Miracles, we may well believe he will
not exerciſe ſuch Power, but to the atteſting what is true, nor fuffer this his Seal to be
put to any thing that is falfe. This is the principal Ufe of Miracles, they give Credit
to them who ſay they are God's Meffengers, and we believe them upon their
Account.
A. Will clear
you
this Matter a little farther, for you threaten, methinks, to
up
build a great deal upon it?
B. I will; and will uſe the two great Inftances of Mofes and Jeſus Chriſt, and defire
you to make what reaſonable Exceptions you can to any thing I ſhall ſay.
When
God had fignified to Mofes, his Purpoſe of ſending him to the People of Ifrael, to let
them know, that he intended to deliver them from their Bondage in Egypt, and alſo to
bid the King of Egypt let them go: Mofes anfwered and faid to God, Exodus iv. 1.
But behold they will not believe me, nor hearken unto my voice, for they will fay, the Lord
hath not appeared unto thee. I am to go by thy Command, and tell the People, that
the Lord hath appeared unto me, and fent me to prepare them for the great Deliverance
he is now about to work for them. The Meffage will undoubtedly be very acceptable
to them, a People wearied with intolerable Oppreffions; but how fhall I convince them
of my Truth, and fhew them that I was indeed fent from God upon this Errand?
Suppoſe that they ſhould fay, as probably they will The Lord hath not appeared un-
to thee: What must I ſay or do, to prove I came from God? And the Lord faid unto
him, What is that in thine hand? and Mofes faid, a Rod. And God faid, caft it on the
ground: and he caft it on the ground, and it became a ferpent, and Mofes fled from before
it. And the Lord faid, Put out thine hand, and take it by the tail; and he put forth his
hand and caught it, and it became a rod in his hand. That they may know, that the Lord
God of their Fathers, the God of Abraham, Ifaac, and Jacob hath appeared unto thee:
The turning a dead Stick into a living Serpent, and the returning of that Serpent to a
Stick again, is a Thing fo extraordinary and miraculous, that no Power but God's is
able to effect it. When therefore the Children of Ifrael fee fuch a Miracle wrought by
thee, they will immediately conclude thou cameſt from me, and will believe I have ap-
peared to thee. This is evident, that the Power of working Miracles which God in-
truſted Mofes with, was given him to teftify his Miffion, to witneſs to the Hebrews
that he came from God, and was to lead them from their Place of Bondage, and great
Mifery, and conſequently, that they must obey him.
A. I readily affent to all you fay; but muſt we not alſo add, that this great Pow-
er was given to Mofes, to convince the King of Egypt and his Subjects, that he was
fent from God, and that therefore he muft let the People go, and facrifice in the
Wilderness?
B. Yes certainly; for fo God fays himſelf, Exod. vii. 9. When Pharoah fhall speak
unto you, faying, fhew a miracle for you: then thou shalt fay unto Aaron, take thy rod,
and caft it before Pharoah, and it ſhall become a ferpent. .
1 K k
A. Then
130
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
A Then I must take it for granted, that the Power of working Miracles was gi-
ven to Mofes, to give him Credit both with the Jews and with the Egyptians; and
both of them were obliged, by virtue of theſe Credentials, to acknowledge he came from
God, and confequently to believe what he faid to them. But to this, methinks, there
lies a plain Objection, that will hardly be well anfwered: Namely, that Jannes and
Jambres, Egyptian Sorcerers and Enchanters, when they were called before the King
and Court, to ſee what they could do, threw down their Rods, which were alſo tur-
ned to Serpents: You know it is faid, they alſo turned Waters into Blood, and alſo
brought Frogs upon the Land, in the fame Manner that Mofes and Aaron did before
them. Now their Intent and Purpoſe in thus doing, being, I fuppofe, to convince
Pharoah and the Standers-by, that there was no need of believing Mofes, or of letting
the People of Ifrael go, becauſe of the Miracles they faw him work, fince they them-
felves did alſo work Miracles, and yet declared, that neither was Mofes to be believed,
nor the People fuffered to depart: Things I fay, being thus, how could Mofes's Mira-
cles prove his Miffion from God, when the Magicians wrought the like, and ſaid, in
effect, that he came not from God? Why is Mofes more to be believed than the Magi-
cians, fince they each of them wrought Miracles.
B. I will give you what Anſwers are generally thought beft; but to deal freely, I
think they are not fully fatisfactory. First then, it is faid, that the Rods of the Egyp-
tian Sorcerers were not turned into real, but appearing Serpents; and that the Devil,
who is a powerful and a fubtile Spirit, helped his Servants in this Cafe, and ſo impoſed
the Senfes of the Standers-by, that to them the Rods appeared to be Serpents,
upon
though indeed no real Change was effected.
66
A. Let me fay, as I think an Egyptian might, to fuch an Anſwer, that this is really
what we call begging the Question. What if one of Pharoah's Courtiers fhould reply
after this manner; "You fay, that Mofes his Rod being turned into a Serpent, gives
an affured Teſtimony to his Miffion, and fhews convincingly, he came from God,
"and ought to be believed: But here you fee, that our Jannes and Jambres deny his
Miffion, and have turned their Rods into Serpents as well as he, and therefore are
to be believed as well as he. You tell us that our Senfes are deceived, and impo-
"fed upon by Diabolical Illufions; we fay the fame of Mofes, and do affirm that your
"Senfes are as fubject, and as like to be impoſed upon as ours.
You judge by your
(<
cc
<<
<c
Senfes, that Mofes's Rod was turned into a Serpent, becauſe it appeared to be a Ser-
pent by its Colour, Shape, and Motion: The Egyptians uſe their Senſes as well as you,
"and to them, their Sorcerers Rods are turned into Serpents, as they judge by the
"like Colour, Shape, and Motion." I do not know what could be anſwered to this
Courtier, in favour of Mofes, that he would not honeſtly apply to Jannes and Jambres
alfo: And therefore I am of the Mind to think them all true Serpents alike, but am
ftill ready to be better informed.
B. Secondly, the Devil, it is faid, did fecretly ſteal away the Sorcerers Rods, and in
their ſtead, as fecretly convey true Serpents.
A. What if he did? might he not as well do ſo with Mofes's Rod too? or at leaſt,
it is as eaſily faid by an Egyptian, that he did ſo to Mofes, as by an Hebrew, that he ſer-
ved the Egyptians fo; and I am afraid this Anſwer gives us no Advantage. But where
were the Hebrews and Egyptians Eyes all this while, that they made no Diſcovery of
this Fraud? Can the Devil fo impofe upon the Senfes, as that, if Men attend, they
ſhall not difcern his Cozenage, and fee when he removes Rods, and fubftitutes Ser-
pents in their place? If ſo, how is it poffible to judge of Miracles by the Senſes? and
if the Senfes may be fo deceived, how are we fure that Mofes's Rod was turned indeed
into a Serpent?
B. Why, that ſeems plain, by his eating up all the other Serpents.
A. Not
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
131
A. Not plain at all, if the Senfes are not to be trufted: For he that can remove a
Rod from before my Eyes, and bring a Serpent in its ftead, and I not fee him do it,
though I look on all the while, can as eafily make me believe he eats that Serpent up,
though he really touch it not; it is but deceiving the fame Senfe. To fpeak what I
think, I wonder much, that fo many Learned Men ſhould take pains to folve this Mira-
cle of the Rods, when there remain two others, as hard to be accounted for as that;
namely, the turning Water into Blood, and the bringing Frogs upon the Land, as Mo-
fes did before them; for this the Scripture affures us the Egyptian Sorcerers did. And
any one fay, this Water was not turned into true Blood, nor real and ſubſtantial
Frogs brought up, but that the Senſes of the Egyptians were all this while impoſed on
by the Craft and Dexterity of the Devil? If any one fhall affirm this, the Egyptian
Courtier will again require, how it came to pafs, that his Countrymens Senfes were
only to be impoſed upon, and thoſe of the Hebrews remained clear, and not to be
deceived? and I am fure I could not give him an Anſwer that ſatisfies my felf.
will
B. But you ſee that Jannes and Jambres turned but a little Water into Blood, and
brought up but a few Frogs; whereas Mofes's Performances of theſe Kinds were mar-
velouſly great.
afk
A. I do not ſee that very clearly; but I will take it for granted that fo it was, and
you, whether it is not, in Nature, as eaſy to turn fix hundred Gallons of Water in-
to Blood, as fix Quarts? and to bring up a Million of Frogs, as four and twenty?
Out of the Way of Nature, all things feem to me, alike impoffible, or alike poffible.
Bring me a Man or Spirit, that can make a Fly, by his own Power, and I will fhew
you one that can make an Elephant. I believe you will own, that had the Water-
pots at the Marriage-Feaft of Cana in Galilee, held but two or three Pints apiece, the
Miracle of Chrift the Lord had been as great, as it was (in turning the Water into
Wine) when they contained each of them, two or three Firkins.
B. I agree with you; and therefore think, as you do, that all fuch Solutions of
Difficulties had better be fpared, fince they fatisfy none that fearch Things throughly.
But what do you fay to this, that the Sorcerers could not remove the Plagues they
brought upon the Land, which Mofes did? and therefore you fee that Mofes wrought
the greater Miracles.
A. Excuſe me, Sir, if I can only fee that he wrought more than they: For that
thoſe he wrought were greater than thoſe the Sorcerers wrought, is not eaſy for him
to fee, who believes it requires as much Power to make a little Serpent, as a great one
that can eat him up; to turn fix Spoons full of Water into Blood, as fix Quarts; and
to bring up ten Frogs, as ten thouſand.
B. You are then of Opinion, that there is no Difference betwixt great and little Mi-
racles; but fure, more Miracles will argue a greater Power, than a few will. What
ſay you to that?
A. I have already faid, that out of the Way of Nature, all Things are alike poffi-
ble; and that he who can make an Eel, can make a Dragon if he pleafe; he who by
his own Power can give Ears and Hearing to the deaf, can as eaſily reſtore Sight to the
blind, if he think fit. And as for more Miracles arguing a greater Power than a few,
I must, by my Principles, be perfuaded, that more Miracles do not argue a greater
Power than a few, but argue a longer Ufe, and more frequent Exercife, of the fame
Power: Thus, to turn Water into Blood, is a Miracle, and fo it is to turn that Blood
into Water again; I know not which is the greateft; but he who does them both,
works two Miracles; but he who works but one, has as great a Power as he who has
wrought two, becauſe he has the fame, though not ſo long continued, or if you will,
not ſo often renewed to him. And though the working many Miracles, will natu-
rally gain greater Authority; yet that is, becauſe more People are concerned, and come
to
132
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
to the Knowledge of them; and they who have ſeen more, are better affured that their
Senfes were not impoſed upon, than if they had ſeen but one; for if they were certain-
ly perfuaded, that one was certainly wrought, without Fraud, the feeing more wrought
by the fame Perfon, would give him no greater Authority with them, than he had be-
fore. Thus, if you or I fhould have ſeen our Child raiſed from the Dead, we ſhould as
fully believe the Perſon who did it, as if we ſhould ſee the ſame Man raiſe alſo fivé
more Children from the Dead; but then this Perfon would gain more Authority with
other People, who were related to theſe five Children, or were Spectators of theſe
great Works. You fee I take the Liberty you gave me, of making what Objections I
can; but it is, that I may receive the greater Satisfaction from your Anfwers, for it is
Truth alone I ſeek. What Credit therefore could the Miracles of Moſes give him,
when the Magicians wrought the fame, in Oppofition to his Authority, if three Mi-
racles argue as great a Power as thirty, and thoſe three were attefted by the fame Sen-
fes that the thirty were?
B. I cannot, I affure you, get over all thefe Difficulties, with as much Eafe as other
People do, or rather think they do. If thoſe, which the Sorcerers wrought, were
true Miracles, they were either wrought by the Power of God, or of the Devil. If
by the Power of God, then God wrought true Miracles to confront the Authority of
Mofes, whofe Authority he, at the fame Time, eſtabliſhed by other true Miracles, and
fo will be found acting in Oppofition to his own Defigns. If by the Power of the
Devil, then can the Devil work true Miracles in Oppofition to God; and how ſhall
we come to know which are of God, and which are of the Devil? and confequently,
how ſhall they atteft to the Truth of any Doctrines, if Powers to oppoſite can work
them? And on the other hand, if the Miracles wrought by the Sorcerers, were only
Cheats and meer Illufions of the Senfes, how fhall we do to diſtinguiſh betwixt true
Miracles, and appearing ones only, fince the Senfes, by which alone we can judge,
may be ſo eaſily impofed upon, as to take Appearances for true and real Miracles?
Either of theſe Suppofitions, carry Difficulties along with them. I can only promife
to do my beſt to clear what I can of them. I maintain then, in the first place, that
the Devil himſelf cannot work a true Miracle independently on God, or by his own
innate Power; and this, for Reaſons before laid down, Page 128. Secondly, I affure
my
ſelf, that he can impofe no falfe ones on our Senfes, if we exerciſe them as we may
and ſhould, and take that Care, and uſe that Circumfpection that it is in our Power
to do: Becauſe it would be the fame Thing, for God to permit the Devil to work falſe
and cheating Miracles, and by them to impofe upon our Senfes, rightly exerciſed, as
to let him work true ones: But of this, I ſhall have occafion to ſpeak more hereafter.
Thirdly, I believe that when the wickedeft of Men work Miracles, they never do it
by a Power derived from the Devil, but are the Inftruments which God is pleaſed to
ufe, and have their Power from him alone; for if the Devil cannot himſelf work Mi-
racles, he cannot commiffionate another to do them, nor communicate a Power that
belongs not to him. However, I believe that Men are, through their Folly, Ignorance,
and great Wickedneſs, ſo ſeduced, as to believe the Devil has fuch a Power himſelf,
which he can alfo communicate to them; and that whenever they do any great Matters,
they think they do them by a Power derived from that bad Spirit, and that they are
affifted by him: And becauſe the End theſe People aim at, is always evil, and the
Effects mifchievous, the World is alſo inclined to attribute all fuch Works to the Pow-
er of the Devil: Not thinking, perhaps, that this would be to erect a Power equal,
and corrival with that of God Almighty; and forgetting, that God may have his Ends
to ſerve, in permitting very wicked Men to be his Inftruments, and to work Mira-
cles, though they know nothing of him, nor intend him any Honour, but think, at
that Time, of ſerving another Maſter, and that they act by another's Authority. If
my
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
133
my first Propofition be true, that the Devil cannot of himſelf work Miracles, this third
will follow unavoidably, that others cannot, by any Power derived from him. But
this does not hinder me from believing, that God may fometimes ufe both wicked
Spirits and wicked Men, as his Inftruments, and work Miracles by them both, if he
pleaſe. Upon theſe Principles I find myſelf obliged to believe, that theſe Egyptian
Sorcerers turned their Rods into Serpents, the Water into Blood, and brought up Frogs
upon the Land, by the Power of God alone, whatever they might think, or by whoſe
Power foever they believed they acted.
A. I am very loth to think otherwife, for the Sake of Confequences that I cannot
endure: But upon this, I muſt aſk you two Queſtions. First, If theſe Sorcerers did
not believe they could work fuch wondrous Changes, how came they to be called by
the King to do them, and how came they to attempt it? One would be inclined
to think, that their former Succeffes in this kind, had prepared the King to expect it,
and emboldened them to attempt this great Work. Secondly, What Account can you
give of God's working theſe Miracles by the Hands of theſe Egyptians, to confront
the Authority of Mofes, and in Oppofition to his own Defign, which was, by
Miracles, to give him Credit with the Court of Egypt, and with his own Peo-
ple?
B. If I could anſwer theſe Queſtions fatisfactorily, all Difficulties elfe, I think,
would vaniſh: But you muſt be content with the beſt I can, at preſent, do. In Anfwer
therefore to your firſt Queftion, I fay, that the Egyptians were, of all Mankind, the
moſt addicted to Enchantments, Sorceries, Predictions, and all that fſtrange and idle
Trade of dealing with the World of Spirits and Powers invifible: I pretend not to
know how it came to paſs, that they were bufied more about theſe Things than other
People; but ſo we find in all our Hiſtories, that it was in Fact; and all the World,
efpecially the East, endeavoured to learn theſe Matters of them. And Moſes being
learned in all the Learning of the Egyptians, was, I believe, accounted a Magician al-
ſo, among them: as Daniel afterwards, and the three Children, by being brought up
in the Palace of the King of Babylon, and taught the Learning of the Chaldeans,
(Dan. i. 4.) came in time to be reckoned up with, and accounted amongſt the reſt of
the Magicians, Sorcerers, and Aftrologers of the Realm, and were accordingly conful-
ted upon great Occafions, Chap. i. 20. ii. 18. iv. 9. v. 11. Mofes, I fay, being
brought up in Pharaoh's Court, and, (as St. Stephen ſays) learned in all the Wisdom of
the Egyptians, which ran exceedingly to Mathematicks, Hieroglyphicks, and fublime
Sciences, was very probably accounted a Magician, even before he made theſe great
Experiments.
A. This I never confidered before; but when I find that he was forty Years old, be-
fore it came into his Heart te vifit his People, and that he was all that while bred up
at Court, and in the Egyptian Manners and Learning, I am inclined enough to think,
he differed very little from other Egyptian Students. It is not at all plain what Notions he
had of God himſelf, till God appeared to him; or at leaſt, till he fled from Egypt,
when being come to Years, (which were forty, by comparing Exod. ii. 11. with Acts
vii. 23.) he through faith refuſed to be called the fon of Pharaoh's Daughter. Confider-
ing all theſe Things, I think it not improbable, that the Magicians who knew Moſes,
his Education, Maſters, Studies, and Learning in all the Egyptian Wiſdom, ſhould
think him like one of themſelves: But I know not what Uſe you will make of this, fup-
pofing it all to be true.
B. No other Ufe than this, that Pharaoh ſhould think the Magicians of his Court
equal to Moſes, and ſhould therefore fend for them, to ſee what they could do; and
that the Magicians ſhould believe ſo too, and thereupon attempt to do as he did: They
had probably heard, that Mofes's Rod was turned into a Serpent, to convince the Chil-
dren
I LI
13.4
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
dren of Ifrael of his Miffion, before he practiſed in the Sight of Pharaoh; and there-
fore when called by him to do the like, they came prepared with Rods, and with their
muttering Incantations, threw them on the Ground, in the fame Manner that Mofes
did: And in their other Performances exactly imitated him, as appears from their
Stretching out their Rods, and fmiting the dust of the land, to bring forth Lice, juſt as
Mofes did before them. So that I do not fee there is any Neceffity, that their antece-
dent great Performances, ſhould have diſpoſed the King to expect they ſhould work
Wonders now, nor have emboldned them to attempt the doing the like again, whenever
called upon to do it. But, that thinking themſelves in all points as great Men as Mo-
ſes was, they ſhould hope to do all that he did. This I think may be ſufficient to ac-
count for the Boldneſs of their Attempt; I would I could as eafily account for the Suc-
ceſs of it. It is no great Matter for Men of a forbidden Curiofity, ignorant of the
Ways of God, and brought up in a dreadful Superftition, and Perfuafion of the Pow-
er of Spirits and Demons inviſible, to believe they can do great Things by their Invo-
cation, and abominable Rites uſed towards them. But how it comes to paſs that God
permits them, by fuch wonderful Events, to continue in their Delufion, is a Thing not
eafy to folve; but yet I will attempt it, in Anſwer to your fecond Queſtion, which
was; Why God ſhould work three great Miracles by the Hands of Jannes and Jam-
bres, to confront the Authority of Mofes, which he eſtabliſhed by great Miracles;
acting as it were in Oppoſition to himſelf and to his own Deſign, which was, to give
him Credit with the Hebrews and Egyptians? I must then premife, in the first place,
that if no ſufficient Reaſon could be alledged, why God ſhould permit theſe wicked
Sorcerers to work three great Miracles, it would not prejudice the Cauſe in hand; it
would not follow from our Weakneſs, that he did not actually permit them; the
Matter of Fact is certain. Nor would it follow, that they wrought them by the Pow-
er of Satan, and his Affiſtance; for that I take for granted, believing firmly, that if God
had given the Devil that Power at large, no Miracles could be of uſe to teſtify the Mif-
fion of his Prophets. But this would only follow certainly, that God can do himſelf,
and permit others to do many Things, of which we can give no Account, and for
which we can affign no fufficient Reafon; a Confequence we need not be aſhamed
of. But, fecondly, we may conjecture, that God might permit theſe Sorcerers to work
three Miracles, the better to convince them, that there was a Power fuperior to all
others, to that of Nature, or whatever Spirits or Demons they had before truſted to,
or thought themſelves affifted by; for we may well believe, they had never wrought
fuch Miracles before, if any at all; and this Power they might find to be the fame
that affifted Mofes, and thereupon might conclude, that this Power was able to de-
liver the Hebrews out of Pharaoh's Hand, and therefore might perfuade the King,
(who adviſed with them, and truſted much to them) to let the People go, and facri-
fice, as required. I do not find there is any thing hard or abfurd, in fuppoſing theſe
Magicians convinced, by the Miracles they wrought themſelves, of a Divine Power,
fuperior to any they had tried or known before, and that this Power was the fame by
whofe Affiſtance Mofes wrought his Miracles, as they did theirs; and this being laid,
the reft might follow eafily.
A. But, when they came to turn the Duft into Lice, as Mofes had done, and found
they were not able to do it, they cried out, that this was the finger of God: Does not
this fignify, that they did not, till now, fee or believe the Hand of God was in it?
and confequently, were not convinced, that God wrought theſe three Miracles, either
by Mofes or themſelves; but that they came to paſs by Art Magic, or they knew not
how.
B. There is an Appearance of Truth in what you fay; but in my Opinion, a little
Reafon and Obfervation might fuffice to fhew them, that the Hand of God was full as
great
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
135
great in turning Rods into living Serpents, Water into Blood, and bringing up Frogs
upon the Land, as in turning Duſt into Lice, whofe Matter may feem much more
prepared for fuch a Change, than that of the other Bodies for the Changes which they
underwent. Can any one imagine, there is more appearing Difficulty, in turning
Duft into Lice, than a little Wand into a Serpent? or can one find, that the doing
the firſt ſhould fhew the Finger of God vifible, and the latter require no fuch great
Power to effect it? I do therefore think, that now was the Time they went to Pharaoh,
to tell him, that the God who wrought theſe Miracles, was certainly the moſt pow-
erful of all Beings, and therefore that his Servant Mofes must be hearkened to, and
the Hebrews ſuffered to depart; after they were fufficiently convinced themſelves, that
the Power by which theſe Miracles were wrought, was able to do what he pleaſed,
they endeavoured to perfuade the King; but the Text fays, that he bearkened not unto
them. They found indeed, that they could work no more Miracles; were they there-
by convinced, that thoſe they had already wrought, were not wrought by God? then
muſt they alſo think, that thoſe of Mofes were no better than their own, and confe-
quently were not wrought by God. If they had feen any great Difference betwixt the
Miracles of Mofes and their own, they would have ſeen at firſt, that the Finger of
God was in it; but feeing no fuch Difference, they might well conclude they were
both wrought by the fame Power, and came to acquaint the King with it. When
therefore they fay—this is the finger of God, I would not underſtand them to mean,
this turning duft into lice is the finger of God, in contradiftinction to the other foregoing
Miracles, as if they fhewed no fuch Finger or Power of God -but- this whole
Tranfaction, all this powerful Operation, all theſe Miracles together, evidently de-
monftrate, that the Hand of God is in this whole Matter, and that none but he could
bring fuch mighty Things to paſs, and therefore it were beſt to yield to this invincible
Neceffity.
A. So that you imagine, God permitted theſe Enchanters to work fome Miracles,
in order to convince them of his Almighty Power.
B. I do fo, and cannot tell how any Man could reſiſt ſuch Evidence: And I think
their Diſappointment in attempting the fourth Miracle, ſerved the better to perfuade
them, that the foregoing ones could not be wrought by Art Magic; for if they could,
they might have ſtill gone on; for I fay again, that to turn Duft into Lice, has nothing
greater, nothing more apt to deter from undertaking it, than the turning Rods into
Serpents, or Water into Blood. But the being ſtopped, might only convince them,
that the Power which had hitherto affifted them, would no longer do it.
A. Methinks, you quickly turn theſe Magicians into very good Men.
B. Not fo faſt, I befeech you: for there is no need of thinking better of them, than
that coming with impious and diabolical Intentions to overthrow the Authority of Mo-
fes, they were foon convinced both by his, and their own Miracles, that the great
God was the Author of them, and went and told the King as much: I know not of
any
farther Influence theſe Things had upon their Minds. And we find Chap. ix. 11.
that theſe Magicians were themſelves plagued with the Boils, and could not ſtand be-
fore Moſes, ſo that though they acknowledged the Power of God, yet they were not
thereby made the better Men. You know it is no new Thing, for God to ſerve him-
felf of his Enemies, and to conſtrain them to confeſs his Power and Majefty. But this
is all the Difference betwixt me and other People, that they make thoſe Enchanters
acknowledge the Power and Finger of God, in the turning Duft into Lice; and I
make them acknowledge them for that, and all the Works that went before it; for
thoſe they wrought themſelves, as well as thoſe that Mofes wrought. And you muſt
ftill remember, that I call all this but a Conjecture, and am only gueſſing what Reaſons
might move God to fuffer theſe Enchanters to work three Miracles: And this I thought
might
136
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
might paſs for one, that they might thereby be convinced of his Almighty Power, and
Superiority over all the Laws of Nature, that Mofes might find Credit with them, and
the Hebrews be ſuffered to depart, as God commanded. But if this Reaſon be diſplea-
fing or unfatisfactory, let us fee what we can make of another, which I will alfo call
but a Conjecture; and that is, that God might permit theſe Sorcerers to work theſe three
Miracles, to harden Pharaoh's Heart, and make him ſtill more obftinate in his Re-
fiftance and Refufal to let the People go.
A. To tell you the Truth, I fhould be very much troubled, that you ſhould make
this good, it looks fo ftrangely (to fay no worfe) on God's Part: But I know not how
to reject a Truth, (if it can be plainly made out) for the Sake of an untoward Confe-
quence.
B. It is not for you or me, to make what Truths we like, but to make the beſt Uſe
we can of what we find made to our Hands. Let us look into the Hiſtory as care-
fully as may be. Egypt was certainly the Spring and Fountain of Idolatry, the very
Sink of all impure Abominations both in Worſhip and in Practice; you cannot read
of it in facred or profane Hiſtories, but you will find this Character made good. The
King of it, to all his other Wickedneſs, added the moſt violent and cruel Oppreffion
of the Hebrews, who were his born Subjects; and certainly, nothing can more pro-
voke a merciful and juſt God to Anger, than to ſee a Prince who is appointed by him
to do Juſtice, and ſhew Mercy to all his People, and to make them happy under a wiſe
and righteous Adminiſtration; to ſee him exerciſe his Power in plaguing them, and
making them moſt miſerable, by moſt exorbitant Exactions, and a moſt rigorous and
unjuſt Oppreffion of their Liberties. This was the Caſe of Egypt and its King, with
refpect to Ifrael, as you may fee Exod. i. 13, 14, 16. For thefe Reaſons, God
did juſtly refolve both to puniſh Egypt, iii. 7, 8, 9. and refolve moreover to
make his Puniſhment remarkable, and his Judgments moft notorious, that all the
neighbouring World might fee, and dread the Example. He was now alſo about to
execute his Promife made to Abraham, Ifaac, and Jacob, to give their Seed the Land
of Canaan, to eſtabliſh them a People, and fet up his Name amongſt them. To make
them the more remarkable in the Sight of all the Nations round, he reſolved to bring
them out of Bondage, with an high Hand and ſtretched-out Arm, that every one
might ſee the fingular Favour he bore to them. And to this End he intended to work
great Miracles, which he forefaw Pharaoh would harden himſelf againſt, but
which would make the Deliverance more confpicuous, in the Eyes of all the
World.
A. I muſt then allow, you think, that when a Nation has, by its crying Sins and
Wickedneſs, made itſelf fit for God's Judgments, he may, with Juftice, execute them
upon it, in fuch a Manner as ſhall tend moft to his Glory, the Difcouragement of Sin,
and the fhewing forth his Hatred of it, even by giving them more Opportunities of
offending againſt him, and oppofing his Will, although he know they will make that
uſe of his Judgments and Inflictions.
B. You muſt; and I hope you fee there is no Iniquity in fuch a Proceeding, fup-
poſing theſe Judgments are juſtly due, and a Puniſhment but equal to their Offences.
Now all thefe Miracles that were wrought in Egypt, produced thofe Judgments that
were to puniſh its Offences; and though God certainly knew that they would have no
Effect on Pharaoh, but hardened him the more to a Refufal of complying with his
Will, yet were they but juſt Expreffions of his Anger, and a juſt Puniſhment of their
Wickedness. Confider thefe Plagues by themſelves, and you will find them due to
he Sins of Egypt; confider them as wrought miraculouſly, and then they were to let
the King and People know, that God was the Author of them, and intended thereby
to puniſh them, and to obtain his Will of them, in cafe they would not hearken to his
Servant Mofes.
A. But
་ ་ ་
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
*37
A. But God's foreſeeing that theſe miraculous Judgments would not move the King,
but harden his Heart farther, and yet continuing to multiply them, makes it look, as
if he defigned to harden him the more, to make him fitter for more Judgments.
B. I think not; and if you confider well what has been faid, you will find, that
God brought upon Pharaoh theſe miraculous Judgments, not to harden him the more;
but to fhew his Hardness the more to the World. They were juſt Puniſhments for
paſt Offences, and Cautions againſt farther Obftinacy; and God's knowing that Pha
raoh would be but the more hardened by them, does not fhew that God intended there-
by to harden him the more; nor did the Ufe that God knew Pharaoh would make of
his Judgments, make it more reaſonable for him not to inflict them, when due.
A. I am glad of this, that God did not harden Pharaoh's Heart on Purpoſe, by
working Miracles; but that he wrought them for other juftifiable Ends, though he
knew Pharaoh would indeed be hardened by them: I may fay then, that theſe mira-
culous Judgments, were the Opportunities of fhewing Pharaoh's Heart intolerably
hardened, who would not be moved by them: And I may fay, that this is the Rea-
fon why God, in many Places of Scripture, is faid to harden Pharaoh's heart, though
in as many more, Pharaoh is faid to harden his own heart. But pray what is all this
to his fuffering the Sorcerers to work their Miracles? I am not very clear in the Con-
nexion of theſe Matters: Let it be allowed, that Mofes's Miracles were wrought for
theſe Ends, and God's Proceedings juftified in dealing with this wicked King and
People; yet what does this relate to the Magicians doing fo great Miracles?
B. The Order and Connexion of Things is this. I was conjecturing, that God;
it may be, might permit the Egyptian Enchanters to work three Miracles, (as he per-
mitted Mofes to work eleven) that Pharaoh's Heart being thereby the more hardened;
he might carry his Refiſtance higher, and God might gain the greater Glory by the
Deliverance of his People, with more aſtoniſhing Signs and Wonders, and the World
take much greater Notice of his Power and Majefty. At this you were uneafy, that
God fhould be thought to work Miracles, on purpoſe, as it were, to harden Pharaoh's
Heart; and I was endeavouring to fhew you, that there was no Iniquity in this Pro-
ceeding on God's Part, becauſe theſe miraculous Judgments were but juſt Puniſhments
of Pharaoh's great Wickedness, and impious Obftinacy; and that although God knew
he would but harden his Heart the more under them, yet it would nevertheleſs be juſt
to inflict them, and God would ſerve himſelf of this Hardneſs, to great Purpoſes.
And if this might be allowed of, with refpect to Mofes's Miracles, it might alſo be al-
lowed with refpect to thoſe of the Enchanters, whofe working Miracles did alſo har-
den Pharaoh's Heart, as appears, Exod. viii. 19. Then the Magicians faid to Pharaoh;
This is the finger of God; and Pharaoh's heart was hardned, and he hearkned not unto
them. He was neither moved at the Miracles they wrought, nor at the Confeffion they
made, that they were wrought by the Finger of God, and the Stop they found to their
working any more. He hardned his Heart under every thing that was ſaid or done,
by them, or Moſes. I look upon their Cafe to be much the fame with that of Moſes;
fo that if God might, with Right and Juſtice, work Miracles by Mofes; to harden
Pharaoh's Heart (in the Senſe before mentioned) he might do the fame by the Magici-
ans; and it ſeems to me, a great Aggravation of his obftinate Impiety, that when his
own Servants (who came with Minds as ill difpofed as his ) came and told him that the
Finger of God was in all thefe Operations, and that they were themſelves convinced of
the Truth of Moses's Miffion, that he ſhould not hearken to them, but hardén his
Heart the more for what they ſaid to him.
A. I yield you that, that Pharaoh was a very wicked Prince; but we are now, me-
thinks, come to the Force of the Objection that I firſt made that Pharaoh could
not be ſo much to be condemned, for not being convinced by the Miracles he faw
1 M m
wrought
138
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
1
wrought, by reafon he faw them wrought in Oppofition to each other. Mofes's Mira-
cles were to convince the King that he came from God: Let us fee (fays the King)
what our own Magicians can do, before we give this Man Credit, and let them firft be
called. You know, that when they came, they did as Mofes did: Why is Mofes now
to be believed more for his Miracles, than the Magicians?
B. Becauſe the Magicians came themſelves to the King, and confeffed, that Mofes
wrought his Miracles by the Finger of God.
A. Did they at the fame Time confefs, that they themſelves had but cozened and
impofed upon him and his Court, and had indeed wrought no Miracles, all the
while he thought they had? This Ingenuity might have had fome good Effect upon
him.
B. Pharaoh, you may be fure, was Judge of that; had they not wrought true Mira-
cles, he could not have hardened his Heart under them, as the Scriptures fay he did.
The beſt of your Objection is, that the Miracles the Magicians wrought were true
Miracles, and therefore how could the Miracles of Mofes convince them, when the
Magicians wrought true Miracles in Oppofition to him? He must therefore believe
neither. And the beſt Anſwer to this, that I can think on, is this, that the Magici-
ans did as good as confefs, that the Miracles they had themfelves wrought, were
wrought by the fame Power of the fame God, and to the fame Intent that Mofes's
were wrought, namely, to punifh Egypt and its King, and to convince them that Mo-
Jes was to be hearkned to, and the Hebrews fuffered to depart, as God required. For
though the Magicians came with wicked Difpofitions, to fet themſelves againſt Mofes,
and uſed all their wicked Arts and Incantations, Mutterings, and diabolical Ceremonies,
to work Miracles equal to thofe of Mofes, and might perhaps think at first, that they
did, what they did, by the Affiftance of Spirits and Demons, contrary to the God of
Moſes; yet afterwards they might come to fee and know, that it was not ſo, but that
they acted by the fame Power that Mofes did, and were only made inftrumental to pu-
niſh Egypt the more. And (as I have already faid) their confeffing the Finger of
God to be in all this Matter, does as good as confefs, that they were now convinced of
the Power of God, and of the Truth of Mofes's Miffion, and therefore that the
King muſt let the People go. But the King would now hearken no more to them,
than to Moſes.
A. Why ſhould he? methinks they deferved equal Credit.
B. So they did, and he ſhould have believed them both, atteſting the fame Truth,
by Miracles much alike; namely, that Mofes was fent of God, and wrought Miracles
to atteft his Miffion, and was to be hearkned to.
A. You have given, I confefs, a new Turn to this Affair, to make the Miracles of
the Magicians to atteft the Truth of Mojes's Miffion, and to make the King more
faulty for not believing what his own Enchanters faid to him.
B. You ſee the Bottom I go upon; the Scriptures fay, that the Magicians confeffed
to Pharaoh, that the Finger of God was in this Matter; and the fame Scriptures ſay,
that Pharaoh's Heart was hardened, and he hearkned not unto them; which is a plain
Condemnation of fuch his Obftinacy and Deafness. So that we are not now to con-
fider the Miracles of the Enchanters, as wrought in Oppofition to Mofes, (whatever
they themselves at firſt intended) but in Confirmation of the Truth of his Miffion,
as the Event juftified, namely, the Confeffion of the Enchanters themfelves.
t
A. I perceive that this Thing lies at the bottom of your Heart, viz. that none but
God, and thoſe commiffioned by him, can work true Miracles; and therefore you
have been at all theſe Pains, to fhew what might move God to permit theſe Enchan-
ters to work three mighty Miracles: And whether you have hit upon the true Cauſe or
no, I know not; but the Effect I cannot chufe but be pleaſed withal, namely, the
Confeffion
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
139
Confeffion and Acknowledgment of God's Power by the Magicians themſelves, and
the Uſe God made of it, viz. the hardning Pharaoh's Heart the more; or rather, the
Opportunity offered by it, of fhewing his Heart the more hardned; which God ferved
himſelf of, to gain to himſelf the greater Glory, and to make his Power the better known,
in bringing forth his People; a Thing he always had in his View.
B. You take me right; for I can never believe the Devil, or any other, by his Affi-
ſtance, can work true Miracles, in Oppofition to God; nor can I believe that any falfe
ones can be wrought by the Devil or his Agents, fo as to impofe upon the Senſes of a
ſober, prudent, and attentive Perſon, where Truth is concerned. Upon theſe Grounds
I deny, that the Devil wrought thefe three Miracles by the Magicians; and deny his
Power fo to impofe upon the Senſes of Pharaoh and all his Court, as to make them be-
lieve they were true Miracles, when indeed they were but mere Deceptions and Illufi
ons.
And from thence I concluded, that God permitted the Magicians to work three
Miracles, of which he made this Ufe, to extort from them a plain Confeffion of his
fupreme Power; and this other, that Pharaoh's Heart was hereby the more hardned,
and his Reſiſtance carried higher; which illuftrated the Power of God more, and the
great Favour that he bare unto his People, in delivering them with a ſtretched-out
Arm, and with great Judgments, as he himſelf is pleaſed to expreſs it, Exod. vi. 6.
26
A. You would have me then, upon the whole Matter, believe, that God wrought
theſe great Miracles by the Egyptian Sorcerers, to give Mofes's Miffion Credit, (as in-
deed their own Confeffion fhews they did) though he made other Ufe alſo of them :
So that we muſt not attend fo much to the Mind and Purpoſe with which theſe Magi-
cians entred (as it were ) the Lifts with Mofes, to confront him, nor to the Imagina-
tions they might have of the great Power by which they wrought fome Miracles, as
to the Event of them, which was their Confeffion, that the Finger of God was in this
Matter. This, you think, attefts to Mofes's Miffion, which is the very End of Mira-
cles firſt laid down, which was (you faid) to give the Meffengers of God Credit
you
with thoſe to whom they were ſent in his Name. But, Sir, you know it has been all
along the Opinion of all the World, that the Egyptian Enchanters wrought their Mira-
cles by the Power of the Devil.
B. I know it very well; and I grant, you fee, that the Enchanters might at firſt
believe fo too: But I would have the World undeceived, as well as I think the En-
chanters themſelves at laft were. And pray, when you meet it, will you aſk the
World theſe few Queſtions, which you and I have had between us. ft, Whether it
does not think, that the Finger of God was as much feen in Mofes's turning the Rod in-
to a Serpent; the Waters into Blood; and bringing Frogs upon the Land; as in turning
Duft into Lice? 2dly, Whether the Enchanters did not think that they themſelves had
turned their Rods into Serpents, the Waters into Blood, and brought Frogs upon the
Land, as certainly as Mofes had done? and confequently, whether they did not fee the
Finger of God as much in their own Works, as in thoſe of Mofes? 3dly. Whether the
Enchanters would have attempted to have turned Duft into Lice, (as it is plain they did
attempt) if they had thought the Finger of God more neceffary to performing that Mira-
cle, than the three foregoing ones? 4thly. Whether therefore, upon the whole Matter,
when they acknowledged the Finger of God in the Works of Mofes, they did not alfo
effectually acknowledge, that the fame Power had wrought by themſelves, thoſe three
great Works, altho' they knew it not, nor owned it, till they were diſappointed in their
laft Attempt? Theſe Queſtions will take in the whole of what we have been talking con-
cerning the Enchanters. And now I come again to you, to afk you concerning the
Power of the Devil, by which you ſay the World has hitherto ſuppoſed that thefe
Enchanters wrought their Miracles. Do you ſo underſtand it, that the Devil has an
inherent Power of his own to work Miracles independently on God, and can commit
that
140
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
that Power to other Agents? If you do, you muſt ſhew me what Difference there is
betwixt God and the Devil, in reſpect to Miracles; and how I fhall know which of
them acts: Or if this cannot be fhewn, (as I doubt it much) then we muſt be to feek
of what Uſe Miracles can be; and I think you will find them to be of none at all.
A. No; but God may permit the Devil to communicate his Power to wicked
Agents, who fhall work Miracles.
B. Pray what need we go fo much about, when the Way is fo ftrait to the fame
Place? Is it not much eafier, and much more reaſonable to ſay, that God may fee fit
to make wicked Men his own Inftruments, in working Miracles; than that he per
mits the Devil to make them his? I affirm pofitively, that if the Devil has any Power
to work Miracles, he has it from God, and can only exerciſe it, when God permits
him; and I affirm moreover, that if at any Time, the Devil can give Commiffion to
Men to work Miracles, he can never do it but when God permits him, and for Pur-
poſes permitted by God. And pray then is it not as fit, and likely, that God fhould
give the Magicians Power to work Miracles, as that he ſhould give the fame Power to
the Devil, and let the Devil give it to the Magicians? For my own Part, I think God's
Honour, Juſtice, and Goodneſs, are all as fafe, when Men are his Inftruments, as
when he uſes the Devil.
A. But is it not as bad, that God ſhould permit wicked Men to work Miracles, for
wicked Purpoſes of their own?
B. Not quite fo bad, becauſe the World is not fo ready to believe wicked Men act
by their own Power, as that the Devil does; nor confequently fo liable to be feduced
by one of their own Fellow Creatures, as by that powerful fubtile Spirit. But be that
as it will, I would have you henceforwards make but little reckoning of the Inftru-
ments God uſes in working Miracles, whether good or bad Men, for he has ſometimes
uſed both; and affure your ſelf, that whatever Purpoſes wicked Men may have, true
Miracles can never ferve any other Purpoſes than thofe of God: And let the Magici-
ans come with what Purpoſes they will, it is no great Matter, they ſhall be able to do
no more than God permits them, to ferve his own Deſigns.
A. But at this rate, the Devil may be an impotent and harmleſs Spirit, and wicked
Men the Inftruments of all Wickedness.
B. The Devil can never be harmleſs, becauſe his Intentions are evermore malicious,
and bent on the doing Miſchief to Mankind: He goeth about feeking whom he may de-
vour. And for his Power or Impotence, it depends entirely on God, how far he will re-
ftrain or limit him; we do not know, how great his Natural Powers, in which God
created him, were; nor how much he loft, by falling from his Innocence and Obedi-
ence; nor confequently how much is, fince that, left to him. I am inclined to think,
that the fupremeſt Angel, even in his native Innocence, was not created with a Pow-
er of changing the Courſe of Nature, and fubverting the known eſtabliſhed Laws of
the Creation, without the Purpoſe and Appointment of God, (and with God's Leave
and Order a Fly may do it); and though the Devil's Rage may increaſe, yet fure his
Power is not increaſed by his Rebellion and Apoftacy. The Scriptures that attribute
great Matters to him, (which yet by being ill underſtood, are made much greater
than they are) do yet inform us that he is abſolutely under God's Command; and there-
fore let his Power be never fo great, it muſt be exerciſed as God permits, and limited,
and determined to what Purpoſes God pleafes. And will it not from hence follow,
that he can no more work a true Miracle, than You or I, of his own accord? And
why then will you think, that wicked Men can work Miracles by the Power of
the Devil, i. e. fufpend, change, fubvert the Courſe of Nature? for I am now fpea-
king to Miracles alone, according to our Definition, and not to any other Operation,
ftrange, fubtile, and amazing, which are faid to be wrought by him.
A. Your
An Eſſay
141
:
.
Effay upon MIRACLESA. You would therefore have me believe, that it is full as reafonable to fay, that
Jannes and Jambres (whatever they themſelves intended or believed) wrought their
Miracles by God's Permiffion, Power; and Appointment; as that God gave this Pow-
er to the Devil, and the Devil gave it to Jannes and Jambres.
B. I would; and promiſe to be anſwerable for any Confequences that mày follow
from this Conceffion, which would not follow from allowing the Magicians to derive
their Power from the Devil, and the Devil his from God. And thus I have, as well
as I could, endeavoured to fhew you, that the End of Mofes's Miracles was, to gain
Credit to his Miffion, that Pharaoh and his Subjects, feeing him act by a Power plain-
ly divine, might believe he came from God, and might hearken to the Meffage he
came upon, and comply with it. This would have been without Difpute, had Mofes
only wrought Miracles; but when the Magicians of Egypt alſo wrought Miracles, in
Oppofition to Mofes, then it grew doubtful whether Mojes or they were to be believed,
or neither. And the Way to decide this Affair was not, as I conceive, to fay (with
fome) that the Magicians were affifted by the Devil, who came and took their Rods
fecretly and invifibly away, and ſubſtituted true Serpents in their ſtead; nor (with o-
thers) that there was nothing real done by them, but that, by their Sorceries and
Enchantments, they deluded the Spectators, and impofed upon their Senſes all the
while. Theſe Solutions I thought, created more and greater Difficulties than they
pretended to anſwer to, and were really nothing less than downright begging the Questi
on in hand, for feveral Reaſons laid down before at large. I have therefore tried to de-
cide this Matter, by affirming, that the Magicians (whatever they themſelves thought
or intended ) did really work true Miracles, and were permitted, nay affifted by God,
to do ſo, for Reaſons before mentioned, and not to be repeated here; and tried to fhew
that even theſe Miracles attefted to Mofes's Miffion, and in the Conclufion, did not
harden any Egyptian's Heart, fo as to make him think the Egyptian Sorcerers wrought
Miracles by a Power diftinct and oppoſite to that by which Mofes acted, which was
the only Snare the Egyptians could fall into, and from which the Sorcerers own Con-
feffion manifeftly delivered them.
A. I thank you for the Pains you have been at, to clear thofe Difficulties that ſtood
in the Way of my Belief: I am now perfuaded that Mofes's Miracles ought to have
gained him that Credit with the Egyptians, which God intended him, notwithſtanding
the Oppofition which he was alſo pleaſed the Magicians ſhould ſeem to make to him,
by permitting them to work Miracle's alfo'; fince they themſelves who wrought them,
came before the King and Court, and acknowledged the Finger of God, and his Pow-
er, in all the Operations foregoing; the Confequence of which was plainly this, that
Mofes was fent of God, and muſt be hearkned to, in whatever he delivered by virtue
of his Miffion: For though he delivered all he had to fay, to Pharaoh, before he
wrought his Miracles, (which is the fairest way) yet all theſe Miracles were to gain
him Belief with the Children of Ifrael, in what he was afterwards to fay and do among
them. I muſt freely own, that the Way you take is lefs liable to Objections, than any
I have ever yet met with; and I would now give you fome Refpite, were it not for
that Paffage in Deut. xiii. 1,&c. which ſticks ſo with me, that I ſhall have no quiet, unleſs
you pleaſe to tell me what I muſt do with it.
a dreamer of dreams, and giveth thee a fign or
pass, whereof he spake unto thee, faying
If there arife among you a Prophet, or
wonder, and the fign or the wonder come to
Let us go after other Gods, which thòu
haft not known, and ferve them: Thou shalt not hearken to the words of that Prophet, or
that dreamer of dreams; for the Lord your God proveth you, to know whether
love the
ye
Lord your God, with all your heart, and with all your foul. Should it not appear from
hence, that God may fometimes permit a falſe Prophet to give a Sign or Wonder that
may come to paſs, in order to try whether his People would be tempted to Idolatry?
and
IN n
142
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
and if he does, how is it that they muſt not hearken to him? Shall a Miracle confirm
the Belief of One God, and not confirm the Belief of more Gods than One, if wrought
for that Purpoſe? If this be fo, a Miracle, in my Judgment, muft go for nothing;
but I muſt believe One God, or more Gods, according as my Reafon leads me; for a
Miracle, I fee, proves both alike.
B. You have objected right; but fuppofed amifs, that the Sign or the Wonder here
ſpoken of, was a Miracle; for no fuch Thing appears. To give a fign or wonder, is,
in this Place, to foretel fome wonderful Thing to come to paſs, and then it runs thus
-If a Man fhould pretend to have a Meffage from God delivered to him in a Vifion,
or that God had appeared to him in a Dream, and revealed his Will to him, and, to
gain to himſelf Credit, fhould foretel fome ftrange and unexpected Thing, and the
Event ſhould confirm his Prediction, and the Sign or Wonder come to pafs; and upon
this, fhould perfuade the People to forfake the Worſhip of One God; he ſhould not
however be believed; the Accompliſhment of his Prediction ſhould not gain him fo
much Credit, as upon his Perfuafion to fall into the Worſhip of many Gods. For though
God could prevent the Accompliſhment of this Prediction, yet he may not always fee
Reaſon ſo to do, but may fuffer this Sign or Wonder to come to paſs (which would
have come to paſs without any fuch Prediction) to ſee whether People would be fo ea-
fily feduced into the groffeft of Errors, becauſe a Wretch has foretold ſome ſtrange
Thing, that God had purpoſed ſhould come paſs, whether foretold or no. For you
have no Reaſon at all, to believe that God permits this Sign or Wonder to come to
paſs, only to fulfil the Prediction, and try the People's Faith and Conftancy; but, that
this Sign or wonderful Event is intended by God, and that he will not put it by, though
it be foretold by one who pretends to be warned of God, and will prove an Occafion
of tempting People to Idolatry. I take this vifionary Dreamer here mentioned, to be
but a meer Gueffer, and to predict Events of his own Head, fome of which may
poffibly come to paſs. But if we ſhould fuppofe him a true Prophet, and that God
inſpired him with the Knowledge of future Events, which he predicted, and which
came to paſs; yet if he ſhould perfuade the People to Idolatry, he were no longer to
be truſted, becauſe we may be fure, the Spirit of God muft then depart from him,
for God cannot contradict himſelf, nor do any thing to perfuade Men to forfake him,
and give his Worſhip to another. This is the plain Meaning of the Thing, that if a
Prophet whom God had fome time fince honoured with an Inſpiration or two, ſhould
afterwards, upon the Credit of his former Infpiration, perfuade to Idolatry, the Peo-
ple ſhould not remember what he had been, but confider what he now was, and put
him to Death, becauſe it is impoffible he ſhould have been infpired of God, to fuch a
Purpoſe as this. And if we ſhould (with ſome) ſuppoſe this Sign or Wonder to have
been, the working a Miracle, yet this is the Solution of the Matter, that no Man,
though he had formerly wrought Miracles, ſhould upon the Credit of them, be belie-
ved when he talked abfurdly, or be followed, when he perfuaded to any thing plainly
wicked: Which was the Cafe of Judas, and perhaps fome others, who had fome-
times wrought Miracles by Chrift's Commiffion, and yet did after renounce him, and
apoftatize from the Faith. Their having been uſed by God as his Inftruments and Mef-
fengers, did not authorize them for ever after to be accounted fuch, nor was to give
them Credit, in every Thing they ſaid or did.
A. I muſt not therefore (you fay) underſtand this Paffage in Deut. xiii. ſo, as if
God at any Time, purely to try his People's Faith, and Adherence to his Worſhip,
would infpire a Prophet with the Knowledge of fome great Event, which he ſhould
foretel, and which ſhould come to paſs, and then ſhould perfuade them to fall from
his true Worſhip; and much leſs that he ſhould let him work a true Miracle, in order
fo to tempt the People.
B. By
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
143
B. By no means; for this would be to tempt People to fall from God, by the fame
Methods he uſed to keep them upright; and to confirm the Belief of Idols, by the fame
Courſe he took to perfuade them of the Unity of the Godhead, namely, by Miracles;
which would be building and pulling down with the fame Hand. You ſee what a mon-
ftrous Abfurdity there is in this, that the One and only true God, fhould let a Man
work a Miracle, to perfuade Men there were many Gods. They who think that
God would ever ſo tempt his People, will be at a Lofs to find how it is poffible for
him ever to undeceive them: A Miracle cannot do it, for it was a Miracle led them into
Error, and unhinged them from the true Belief of one God. I will be bold to ſay, that
this is a Temptation, from which there is no way to eſcape. And therefore they who
explain this Paſſage after this Manner, muſt neceffarily give up all Miracles, as good for
nothing, that is, to prove nothing. For if a Miracle prove the Unity of the God-
head, it can never prove Plurality of Gods; and if it can prove Plurality of Gods, it
can never prove the Unity.
A. But wherein then, may God be faid to tempt that People, by this falſe Pro-
phet?
B. By permitting that Sign or Wonder to come to paſs, which was foretold by him
(though, it may be, not foreknown by him) upon whoſe Credit he ſhall try to per-
fuade to Idolatry: This God could prevent if he faw fit, and by not preventing, fuf-
fers this Temptation to be laid for fuch as will be fo fooliſh and ſo abfurd as to fall into
it. God, I have faid, does not lay this Snare for any one, but the Courſe of his Pro-
vidence may not, perhaps, fuffer him (much lefs will Juftice conftrain him) to re-
move it, although he ſee that wicked People will be feduced by Occafion of it. He
had given them fufficient Proofs of the Unity of his Godhead, fufficient Cautions
againſt Idolatry, and he will now try, if a lucky Guefs, or a fagacious Præviſion, or
an impudent Pretence of Prophecy, coming to paſs, and notably fulfilled, ſhall over-
rule all Reaſon, and pofitive Command, and be able to feduce them to Idolatry. If
this be a Temptation, God will venture it, as well he may; He will permit this Sign
or Wonder to come to paſs, and will not go out of his appointed Courſe to hinder it,
that he may ſee, whether his People will remember and obey his Warnings and his
Precepts. I do not fee there is any great Matter in this Paffage: Nor do I fee how Mi-
racles are at all concerned in it. For I can never think that God ſhould enable a
Man to work a Miracle, and then appoint him to be put to Death for doing it, as we
find it Deut. xiii. 5'•
A. No, Sir, he is not to die for working a Miracle, but for enticing to Idolatry,
by virtue of having wrought that Miracle: It is for the bad Uſe he makes of it.
B. You ſay right, but he could not have had fuch a powerful Pretence to feduce to
Idolatry, had not God enabled him to work that Miracle. And you know this Paf-
fage is brought to ſhew us, that God to try his People, permits a Man to work a Mira-
cle, in order to feduce them, if they will be fo feduced. If it be, as you fuggeſt, that
God, for fome other good and wife End, permits a Man to work a Miracle, and he
perverts it to this wicked Purpoſe, and makes Ufe of the Authority it gives him to draw
Men to the Worſhip of Idols, then is there no Trial or Temptation on God's Part, but
an Abuſe of a Miracle by a very wicked Man; which feems to be contrary to the Senfe
that is generally put on this Paſſage in Deut. xiii. which is, you know, that God to
try his People, permits a Man to work a true Miracle. But now if this Miracle were
wrought for any other Purpoſe than to give this Man Credit, God could not be faid to
his People by it, although his People would indeed be accidentally tried by it; i. e.
try
the falfe Prophet would take occafion from this Miracle to ſeduce the People to Idola-
try; a thing which God intended not, but which was an accidental Uſe of it after it
was over. If God indeed, after this Prophet had endeavoured to entice the People to
Idolatry,
|
144
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
Idolatry, had given him the Power of working a Miracle, he had in fome Senſe tertipt
ed his People by that Miracle; for then his Miracle had given him Credit, in what he
ſhould afterwards deliver as his Doctrine: Whereas to work a Miracle firſt, and then
to build any Doctrine or Worſhip on the Credit of it, is always liable to Sufpicion; be-
cauſe the Miracle might have been wrought for other Ufes, and you endeavour, with-
out any good Proof, to put it to this, which is for your preſent Purpoſe. For it is my
Opinion, that the Doctrine, in general at leaſt, ſhould always be firft laid down, and
then the Miracle be wrought to give the Meffenger Authority and Credit to eſtabliſh it in
People's Minds; which would prevent all manner of Abuſes of any accidental Mira-
cles. But I foreſee that, when I come to ſpeak to the Miracles of our Lord Chriſt, I
ſhall be under a Neceffity of handling this Matter more at large, and therefore, if you
pleaſe, we will refer it to that Place; for I have already, I fear, offended too much in
Repetition of the fame Matter.
A. Sir, I account myſelf obliged to you, as much for that, as any thing elſe, and
hope I underſtand things much the better for it, and ſhall the better keep them in my
Mind. You will be pleaſed, at fome convenient Time, to let me renew this Con-
verfation, and hear the reft.
B. You will be very welcome when you pleaſe: Only remember, that you take
not what I ſay on Truſt, till you have both examined and digeſted it, and are through-
ly fatisfied. I am, you may be fure, proud of the Reſpect you have for me; but
you muſt be no Lofer by it, nor let it hinder you from bringing all the Objections you
can muſter
from all Quarters.
up
}
An
145
An ESSAY upon MIRACLES
In Two DISCOURSES.
A.
I
DIALOGUE II.
AM come, Sir, if it be ſeaſonable, to take the Advantage of your laſt Offer;
of ſpeaking to the Miracles of Christ our Lord, in the manner you ſpake to
thoſe that were wrought by Moſes; and to aſk of you the fame Liberty you then al-
lowed me, of making what Exceptions I could to any thing you faid, and aſking what
Queſtions I thought were pertinent.
B. It is feaſonable enough; and the greater Liberty you take, the greater is like to
be your Satisfaction, if it be in my Power to give it you. The Method I fhall take,
if
you approve it, will be this:
First, to fhew you, That it was expected that
the Chrift, or the Meffiah, fhould work Miracles. Secondly, That Jefus did actually
work Miracles. And, Thirdly, Speak to the End for which, he ſaid himſelf, he
wrought them. Under one or other of theſe Heads, you will find room for what Ob-
jections ſhall occur to your Mind. First, therefore, I will fhew you, that it was expect-
ed the Chriſt ſhould work Miracles. Upon our Saviour's feeding five thouſand Men
with five Barley Loaves and two fmall Fiſhes, it is faid, John vi. 14. Then thofe men,
when they faw the miracle that Jefus did, faid, Of a truth, this is that Prophet that
ſhould come into the world. It was not ufual for every Prophet, who was fent of God,
to work Miracles; nay, very few of them wrought any; fo that to expect a Prophet
that ſhould work Miracles, was to expect a great Prophet indeed; and greater much
than
any they had ſeen, excepting Mofes and Elijah and Elisha. And it were eaſy to
ſhew, if it were needful, that this Expectation of the Jews is a Proof, that they look-
ed for that particular Prophet, foretold by Mofes in Deut. xviii. 18. that promiſed a
Prophet that ſhould be like to him, as in many other Particulars, fo eſpecially in work-
ing Miracles; for he could be like him in nothing more to the Honour, and to the Pur-
poſe of a Prophet. The Jews therefore, becauſe they expected a Prophet like to Mo-
fes, concluded from Chrift's Miracles, that he was that Prophet that should come into
the World. This Expectation of Miracles appears alſo from thoſe many Demands the
Jews made to Chrift, of fhewing them fome Signs. Mafter, we would fee a fign from
thee, Matth. xii. 38. And John vi. 30. What fign fheweſt thou then, that we may fee, and
believe thee? What doft thou work? This was occafioned by Chrift's telling them, v. 29.
that they ſhould believe on him, whom God had fent; but they required fome Sign in
proof that God had fent him. This fignifies that they expected fuch an Exercife of
divine Power, in him who ſhould be fent of God. And fo Chrift tells the Jews, Ex-
cept ye fee figns and wonders, ye will not believe. Thus, John vii. 31. Many of the people
believed on him, and faid, When Chrift cometh, will be do more miracles than theſe which
this man hath done? And Matth. xii. 23. when he had reſtored the Blind and Dumb
poffefs'd, to Sight and Speech- -the people were amazed, and faid, Is not this the Son of
David? Theſe are full Proofs that the Jews expected Chriſt, or the Meffiah, when-
ever he appeared, ſhould work Miracles. The Anſwer he made to the Diſciples of
John Baptift, is a Proof that this Expectation of the Jews was well grounded, being
raiſed by a Prophecy. John was now in Priſon, and there had heard of the Works
that Chriſt did, and fent two of his Difciples, who faid to Chriſt, Art thou he that
Should
I O o
146
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
fhould come, or do we look for another? It appears, that John Baptist knew Chrift very
well before he baptized him; that he ſaw and bare Record, that he was the Son of God;
that he called him the Lamb of God, which taketh away the fins of the world; that he
faw the Spirit of God defcending on him like a Dove, and abiding on him; and heard
the Voice from Heaven that faid, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleafed. All
this was done before John was caft into Priſon; and therefore it is not to be thought he
fent for Information, as though he had not known himſelf that Jefus was the Chriſt,
or any ways doubted of it. But he fent this Meffage by fuch as wanted Confirmation
of their Faith, and would not (it is likely) take their Maſter's bare Word, that he
whom John baptized was the Meffiah. Their Mafter was a Prifoner, and in danger
of dying a violent Death; would the Meffiah fuffer that? Was that the Favour his
Forerunner muſt expect? Was it likely the Meffiah fhould be fuch a one as Jefus?
Theſe Doubts, or the like, might vex the Minds of John's Difciples; and therefore to
deliver them from them, and to give them truer Notions of the Perfon and Office of
the Meffiah, to fatisfy themſelves and others they ſhould meet withal, he fends them
to Jesus himſelf with the forefaid Queſtion· i. e. to enquire, whether he were
the Perſon that was to come, or whether they must look for another? To which our Lord
anfwers- Go, and fhew John again thoſe things which ye do hear and fee—the blind
receive their fight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleanfed, the dead are raiſed up, and
the poor have the gospel preached unto them. All theſe Particulars are found in Ifaiah
xxix. 18. xxxv. 5, 6. lxi. 1. and are fo many Prophecies of the Works of the Meffi-
ah; for it is to be obſerved, that the Satisfactorinefs of our Lord's Anfwer to thefe Dif
ciples confiſts in this, that it had been foretold and expected, that He who was to come
Thould do theſe Miracles. You come from John to learn whether I am He who was to
come-Go back, and tell him of the Works you fee me do, and hear that I have
done: and if theſe Works betoken and delineate Him that was to come, let him judge
of me as he fees fit. This fhews that the great Mark of him that was to come, was,
that he would work great Miracles.
A. I agree, Sir, to all this; but what Ufe am I to make of it?
B. To obferve, and remember, upon Occafion, that it was foretold by Prophets,
and expected by the Jews, that whenever Chrift, or the Meffiah, came into the
World, he ſhould work great and many Miracles. The like Thing never happened to
any Man living befides. It was never foretold by a Prophet, of any particular Per-
fon, nor expected by any People, that fuch or fuch a certain Man, fhould work Mira-
cles, when he came and lived in the World: This Honour was peculiar to our Lord
Jefus.
A. I will reſerve this Obfervation, for the Jews, when I meet them, for I think it
is good there; but, as yet, I do not fee what to do with it, to fuch as believe the Old
Teftament no more than they do the New. Will you be pleaſed to go on, to fhew how
he fulfilled theſe Prophecies, and fatisfied the Expectations they had raiſed
among the
People.
B. This Matter will not need much Proof; thoſe on whom Jefus wrought Miracles,
did freely, and openly, and gratefully acknowledge their Benefactor, and owned they
received their Sight, or Hearing, their Health, or Strength, from him that was called
Chrift; and fo did many of their Relations: And fome of the Jews, for the Sake of
theſe great Works, did own he was the Chrift: But becauſe that was not fafe for them
to do, many that did not, or would not know he was indeed the Chrift, yet owned
the Benefits received, to have been bestowed by him, who was called Chrift, and
Jefus of Nazareth: They bore witneſs to the Perſon, though they might not know
who that Perfon was. Thus far we may be fure, that the Jews, who were the Sub-
jects of our Saviour's Miracles, and many of their Relations, would go, they would
teſtify
I
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
147
teſtify that he actually wrought Miracles. This was alfo confeffed by his greateſt Ene-
mies; thoſe who were grieved, and angry to think he had fuch Power, yet could not
deny but that they knew he exerciſed fuch Power. What do we, faid the Prieſts and
Pharifees, in Council, for this man doth many miracles? And even their blafphemous
attributing them to the Prince of the Devils, and his Affiftance, does as fully prove the
Matter of Fact, namely, that they were done, as if they had believed he wrought
them by a Divine Power, and had fo acknowledged it. For the Queſtion is not here,
whoſe Power he wrought them by, but whether they were wrought or no, by him as
the Inftrument; and therefore the blafphemous Calumny, is as good an Evidence,
that Miracles were wrought by Jefus, as any his own Diſciples could have given. It
appears therefore, from the Teſtimony of his Followers and Diſciples, and of thoſe
who were neither, but only cured and reſtored by him, and of thoſe who hated him,
and perfecuted him to Death, that Jeſus Chriſt did truly work great Miracles; which
was the Second Thing I propoſed to ſpeak to.
A. I acknowledge, Sir, that I know not how any matter of Fact can be better
proved, than this, that our Saviour wrought Miracles. But would you have me be-
lieve, and (if called upon ) maintain, that every great Work our Saviour wrought, was
properly miraculous?
B. I fee no Reaſon to believe otherwife; but becauſe we have defcribed a Miracle,
as a Work of God, fubverting, changing, or fufpending the known Courſe, and fet-
tled Laws of Nature, and appealing to the Senſes and that fome Works our Sa-
viour wrought, may not appear to us to come up fully to this Deſcription; it may be
fit, perhaps, not to maintain that they were every one of them properly miraculous,
though we indeed believe they were. I can believe that of Chrift, which I cannot of
another Man, although I fee the fame Effect produced; becauſe the ſame Effect may
proceed from different Powers and Cauſes. And becauſe another Man may feem to
do, without a Miracle, what Jefus Chrift really did by Miracle; therefore I need not
maintain to an Adverſary, that every Work he wrought was properly miraculous, al-
though I verily believe it was. The Miracles which I would moſt infift
upon, ſhould
be his turning Water into Wine; his walking on the Seas; his feeding five thousand
People with five Loaves and two ſmall Fiſhes; and his raiſing up the Dead; and fome
fuch like.
A. I allow that theſe are inconteftable Proofs of a divine Power; but I cannot, me-
thinks, afford to part with
any
other Miracles of Chrift, though feemingly much leſs.
B. Nor I neither; let us part with nothing but our Miſtakes. Were you ever at Sea,
and obferved how fuddenly the moſt furious Winds have been laid, and how almoſt in
an Inſtant a Calm has fucceeded to a great Storm?
A. Yes.
B. And what if fome bold Paffenger had, at that Inftant, rebuked the Winds; and
bid them ceaſe, and they had ceaſed immediately? would you have concluded preſent-
ly, that fuch an Event was miraculous? or would you have thought the Man had ſpo-
ken audaciouſly and luckily?
A. Audaciouſly and luckily, fince the Winds might have then ceaſed, though he
had held his Tongue.
you
B. But if you had ſeen our Saviour Chrift do the fame thing, in the fame manner,
would have concluded He had exerciſed a divine Power; and yet the Event is alike
in both Cafes: but you know how different Perſons they were. When therefore you
diſpute with Unbelievers about Miracles, I ſhould not adviſe you to infiſt upon any fuch
Events as might naturally have come to paſs, although you are fully perfuaded that thoſe
particular ones were truly miraculous. Make ufe rather of fuch as are fubject to no
Exceptions, and where Chance can have no room. Do you now underſtand, that I
would
148
An Efay upon MIRACLES.
would have you believe, that all the great Works that Chrift wrought were truly mira-
culous, but that you need not try to prove them to be fo, to fuch as will deny it?
This is all I mean, by diftinguiſhing fuch Works of Chrift as both appeared and were
miraculous, from fuch as were miraculous, but might not appear to be fo.
A. I apprehend you; and defire you to proceed to the Third thing you intended to
fhew, namely, the End and Purpoſe for which Chriſt ſaid himſelf he wrought Mira-
cles.
B. The End for which Chrift wrought Miracles was plainly this, That for their Sake
he might be believed to come from God, and that what he ſhould deliver as God's Will,
was certainly fo. The Bottom of all which, you know, is this, That a Miracle being
a Work that none can do, unleſs God be with him, it is not believed that God will en-
truſt this miraculous Power with one that ſhould abuſe it, to the deceiving or hurting
any innocent Perſon: And therefore where we hear a Man declare he comes from God
to teach his Will, and ſee him, in Confirmation of fuch his Miffion, work Miracles,
we believe, not only that he comes from God, but alſo that what he declares to be the
Will of God, is truly fo. The Miracles of Chrift were wrought to teftify he came
from God, and that the World might believe what he delivered from him. Let us
hear him himſelf appealing to the Miracles he wrought, as to fo many Evidences of
his Commiffion. I have, faith he, greater witness than that of John, for the works
which the Father hath given me to finiſh, the fame works that I do, bear witness of me,
that the Father hath fent me, John v. 36. and in x. 24, 25. when the Jews came
round about our Lord, and faid to him, How long doft thou make us to doubt? If thou
be the Chriſt, tell us plainly: Jefus anfwered them, I told you, and ye believed not; the
works that I do in my Father's name, bear witness of me. And John xv. 24. If I had
not done amongſt them the works which none other man did, they had not had fin. And in
John x. 37, 38. If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not; but if I do, though
you believe not me, believe the works, that ye may know and believe that the Father is in
me, and I in him. See alfo John xi. 15. and xiv. II. Thefe are the Places where
Chriſt himſelf declares, that this was the End for which he wrought his Miracles, that
Men might believe by them that God had ſent him; and that without theſe Works the
Jews might have had fome Excufe for their Infidelity. You fhall now fee him fhew
you the Uſe of Miracles, in a Cafe that will be worth your remembring. In Mark ii.
3, &c. And they came unto him, bringing one fick of the pally, which was born of four;
and when they could not come nigh unto him for the preſs, they uncovered the roof where he
was; and when they had broke it up, they let down the bed wherein the fick of the palfy lay.
When Jefus faw their faith, he ſaid unto the fick of the palsy, Son, thy fins be forgiven
thee. But there were certain of the Scribes fitting there, and reaſoning in their hearts
Why doth this man thus fpeak blafphemies? Who can forgive fins, but God only? And im-
mediately when Jefus perceived in his fpirit, that they fo reaſoned within themſelves, he
faid unto them, Why reafon ye these things in your hearts? Our Saviour does not here
blame them for thus reaſoning with themſelves; for certainly they reaſoned right, that
none but God could forgive Sins; and it was no great matter to miſtake, and think that
Chriſt attributed fuch Power to himſelf, by pronouncing fo abfolutely that his fins
were forgiven him; and fuch a Power they never knew committed to any Man: He
does not therefore blame them for fo reaſoning, but takes occafion from thence to
ſhew them who he was, and the Power he had committed to him, and for what pur-
pofe; and therefore he goes on Whether is it easier to fay to the fick of the pally,
Thy fins are forgiven thee; or to fay- Arife, take up thy bed, and walk? But that
you may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive fins, I fay unto thee
[fpeaking then to the Sick of the Palfy] Ariſe, take up thy bed, and go thy way unto
thy houſe. Confider with your felves this Matter. You heard me lately tell this fick Man,
that
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An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
149
?
that his Sins were forgiven him, and thought immediately that I had spoken impious
and blafphemous Words, attributing to my felf a Power plainly divine, and incommu-
nicable, i. e. of forgiving Sins. That God alone can forgive Sins committed againſt
himſelf, is certainly true; but if you think he cannot communicate this Power, you
are miſtaken; for I affure you, that the Son of Man, even I who fpeak to you; have
Power on Earth to forgive Sins, and I was exercifing this good Power upon this mifera-
ble Paralytick, which was, you know, the Occafion of your inward reafoning, and
concluding me to have blafphemed. And what think you? You fee this poor Crea-
ture, how impotent and weak he lies before you, how altogether unable he is to ſtir,
and help himſelf. Do not you believe it is as eafy for God to give me the Power of
forgiving Sins, as it is to give me the Power of working miraculous Cures? May I not
fay as eafily- Thy fins are forgiven thee- as I can fayArife, take up thy bed.
and walk? If I, without any Application of proper Means, or any manner of Pre-
ſcription, ſhall cure this Man of his Diftemper by the bare Word of my Mouth, by
faying only, Rife, take up thy bed and walk, will you not believe that I have alfo Power
to forgive Sins, fince one is full as eafy as the other? Now, that you may know affured-
ly that I, the Son of Man, have Power on Earth to forgive Sins, you ſhall fee that I
have Power to cure this Paralytick preſently I say unto thee then, thou lame and
helpleſs Creature, Ariſe, take up thy bed and walk, and go thy way unto thy houfe. Whe-
ther his Sins be truly forgiven him, according to my Word, is what you cannot poffi-
bly diſcover; but whether I have Power to cure this Man's Diſeaſe, the Effect will ſhew
immediately, and you will viſibly diſcern. And immediately be arofe, took up the bed,
and went forth before them all; infomuch that they were all amazed, and glorified God,
faying, We never faw it on this fashion. Here is an Act of great Mercy fhewn to a poor
miferable Man; but it is plain, that Chrift's Defign was now to fhew the Jews the
Truth of that Doctrine, That the Son of Man had power to forgive fins. That was the
thing the Jews ftumbled at, and this was the Way Chrift took to fet them right; the
Miracle was to procure Attention and Belief; the viſible Effect of a divine Power was
to convince them, that what he ſaid was true, although the Effect (namely, the For-
giveneſs of Sins) was, and muſt be invifible. This Inference is, you ſee, of our Sa-
viour's own making, and is a lively Demonſtration, that true Miracles are deſigned by
God, to bear Teſtimony to the Miffion of his Meffengers and Prophets, and to eſtabliſh
and confirm the Truth of what they deliver by virtue of fuch Miffion. You now fee,
by an Inftance, how our Lord himſelf appeals to his own Miracles; and fure you will
believe he knew the true Ufe that was to be made of them.
A. There is no want of farther Authority, where we have that of Chrift; But if
you pleaſe, let me alfo be remembred of what the Writers of Scriptures fay upon this
Head.
B. St. John then fays, xx. 30, 31. Many other figns truly did Jefus in the prefence of
his difciples, which are not written in this book, (i. e. St. John's Gofpel) but theſe are
written, that ye might believe that Jefus is the Chrift, the Son of God; and that believing,
ye might have life in his name. St. Luke alfo, in Acts ii. 22. reports St. Peter's Words
to the Jews
Te men of Ifrael, hear these words, Jefus of Nazareth, a man ap-
proved of God by miracles, and wonders, and figns, which God did by him in the midst of
you, as ye your felves alfo know. You fhall hear alfo what is faid of the Apoſtles, be-
cauſe it tends to the fame purpoſe, namely, that God intended to give their Doctrine
(the fame that Chrift taught) Credit, by the Miracles he enabled them to work. Thus
then St. Mark xvi. 20. And they went forth, and preached every where, the Lord work-
ing with them, and confirming the word with figns following. Thus Act xiv. 3. Long
time therefore abode they, Speaking boldly in the Lord, which gave teftimony unto the word
of his grace, and granted figns and wonders to be done by their hands. Thus, Heb. ii. 4.
I Pp
God
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An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
God alfo bearing them witness, both with figns and wonders, and with divers miracles,
and gifts of the Holy Ghoft. See alfo Acts viii. 6, 7.
A. Methinks there can be nothing plainer in the World, than that God purpoſed to
give his Son Jefus, and his Apoſtles, Credit with the People to whom they were ſent,
by giving them the Power of working Miracles, i. e. God intended the People ſhould
believe Chriſt and his Apoftles declaring the Will of God, upon the Account of the
Miracles they faw them work; which Works no Man could do, excepting God were
with him. Let us hear, if you pleaſe, what was the Iffue.
B. Mind not what was the Iffue, but what in reafon ſhould have been, when God
beſtowed this Power of Miracles, on purpoſe to atteft to the Miffion of his Son. The
Iffue was, that many believed on him, when they faw the Miracles he did; but a great
many more believed not. When Elijah, 1 Kings xvii. had reftored by his Prayers
the Woman's dead Child to Life again, fhe faid, Now by this I know that thou art a
man of God, and that the word of the Lord, in thy mouth, is truth. And thus St. John
ii. 11. This beginning of miracles did Jefus in Cana of Galilee, and manifefted forth his
glory, and his diſciples believed on him. And vi. 14. Then thoſe men, when they had ſeen
the miracle that Jefus did, faid, This is, of a truth, that Prophet that ſhould come into
the world, i. e. they believed him to be the Chriſt, as hath been before obſerved. And
ix. 32. Since the world began, was it not heard, that any man opened the eyes of one that
was born blind: If this man was not of God, he could do nothing; i. e. he could do no
fuch mighty Miracles. And thus upon his raifing up the Widow's Son of Nain from
the Dead-- Luke vii. 16. There came a fear on all, and they glorified God, Saying, That
a great Prophet is rifen up among us, and that God hath vifited his people. But yet you
know that much the greateſt Part of the Jews continued unbelieving, notwithſtanding
all theſe Miracles; fo that you muſt rather look to the intended Iffue, than that which
really followed.
A. Pray can you poffibly account for the Jewish Infidelity, under the Manifeſtation
of fo much Power as Chrift exerciſed, and notwithſtanding ſo many Miracles wrought
among them?
B. A great many Reaſons might be affigned, though none fufficient; but that which
feems the ſtrongeſt, and which is moſt to the purpoſe in hand, ſeems to me to be
this: That the Pharifees and leading Men among the Jews, had ſpread it abroad
among the common People, that he difpoffeffed Demoniacs by Beelzebub the Prince
of the Devils: This was the Judgment, you know, they paffed upon his healing one
poffeffed with a Devil, blind and dumb, infomuch that the blind and dumb both ſpake
and faw, Matth. xii. 22. And in all likelihood, they paffed the like Judgment on his
other miraculous Works; for it was a conftant Tradition with the Jews, that Jeſus
was a great Magician; and I wish it were at this Day altogether worn out of the Minds
of that poor People. Now if the Jews were made to believe that he wrought his Mi-
racles by the Affiftance of the Devil, it is plain his Miracles could never give him any
Credit with them: if once they were perfuaded that he acted by Commiffion of God's
declared Adverſary, how could his Miracles atteft to his Commiffion from God? if Jefus
in Combination with evil Spirits, fhall reſtore the Dumb to Speech, and the Blind to
Sight, it will be to no Purpoſe to tell them he comes from God, and in Witneſs of his
Miffion ſhall cure the Blind and Dumb. The very Means he uíes to convince the Peo-
ple he comes from God, are turned upon him, and perverted to the utter difcrediting
of all he fays. This afcribing to the Power of the Devil the Miracles he wrought by
the Spirit of God, he calls himſelf, the finning against, and blafpheming the Holy Ghoft.
It is true, the Malignity of the Pharifees Sin did lie, in pronouncing thus publickly,
that he acted in Concert with the Devil, though they were inwardly perfuaded other-
wife, as People think: But to believe the Devil could indeed affift any one, in reſtoring.
to
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
15i
to the Dumb their Speech, and Sight to the Blind, and do other ſo great Works, was
the firſt Snare they fell into, and would eafily throw them into the other; and the
People could never have been induced to believe that Jefus wrought great Works by
the Affiftance of the Devil, unless they had been firft taught, that the Devil could
work great
Works himſelf, and alfo communicate fuch his Power to Men. This was
the fundamental Error with which their Minds were firſt ſeaſoned, and which prepa-
red them for the other blafphemous Opinion of our Lord's being affifted by that wick-
ed Spirit. If this be a Digreffion, you owe it to your Queſtion, whether I could ac-
count for the Jewish Infidelity under fo many Miracles, and fo evident a Demonftra-
tion of the Spirit.
A. I am content with it; and defire you would now take the Pains to recapitulate,
as you have heretofore done, what hath been already ſaid upon the whole Matter,
touching the Miracles of Christ our Lord.
B. The Sum then of what I have been trying to prove, is this; That it was foretold
by the Prophets, that he who was to come, the Chrift, or the Meffiah, fhould work great
Miracles, and that it was expected by the Jews he ſhould do fo. This, I faid, was
peculiar to our Lord, and what never happened to any one elſe. Next, That Jeſus of
Nazareth did actually work great Miracles, and by them proved himſelf the Chriſt,
and was received as fuch, by thoſe who cloſely attended to his Works. And laſtly,
That Jefus himſelf told the Jews, that God had given him the Power of working Mi-
racles, on purpoſe to convince the World that he came from God, and was the Chriſt,
and was to be believed, in what he ſhould deliver touching God, Himſelf, and the Life
he would have Men lead; that Miracles were his Credentials, and that, upon their
Score, he required them to look upon him as the Meſſenger and Prophet of God, and
his Ambaffador, for the Purpoſes he fhould declare and communicate to them.
A. I do not know that any thing can be plainlier proved from Scripture, than theſe
three Points; and must I not hereupon make this Confequence, That the Doctrine of
Jefus Chrift is true, and ought to be believed, becauſe it was proved, eſtabliſhed, and
confirmed by Miracles?
B. That Confequence is unavoidable, and makes itſelf.
A. I have always made it in my Mind; but I have ſo often ſeen it overthrown by
Writers of all Sorts, both ancient, middle-aged, and modern, very good Chriftians all,
and doubtleſs very learned, that I know not what to think of it. What (for Exam-
ple) muſt I do, when I am told, that I must not judge of the Truth of a Doctrine
by the Miracles that are wrought in Confirmation of it, but muft judge of Miracles by
the Doctrine they would eſtabliſh? Is not this downright begging the Question? Is it not
a Maxim directly contrary to what Jefus Chrift eſtabliſhed? Did not he affirm, that
his Miracles were to atteſt to the Truth of what he ſhould deliver? Did he not cure
the Paralytick (as you fhewed) on purpoſe to fhew, that what he had faid of the Son
of Man's having Power to forgive Sins, was true, and ought to be believed?
B. I agree
agree with
you, that that Maxim is not folid; and that if it were fo, Miracles
would prove nothing that was doubtful or unknown before. We muft judge, it ſeems,
whether the Doctrine to be eſtabliſhed, be true, and reaſonable, and fit to be believed,
before we can believe a Miracle could be wrought to eſtabliſh it. This Miracle can
give this Doctrine no Credit, but rather receives it from the Doctrine; it is, as you
call it, begging the Question.
A. What must I do moreover with thoſe People, who affirm that the Devil can al-
fo work great Miracles, and can affift wicked Men alfo in working them, i. e. can
communicate his Power to them? For, to tell you what I think, this Power, to a
Man of my Simplicity and Plainneſs of Underſtanding, feems to make void the Pur-
pofe of our Saviour, and the End for which he faid he wrought Miracles, i. e. to
gain
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An Effay upon MIRACLES..
gain Belief to his Doctrine. For if the Devil can work Miracles, as well as Jefus
Chrift; and Men affifted by the Devil, as well as Chrift's Difciples; what Proof can
Miracles make that a Doctrine is from God?
B. Why, that will bring you back again, to confider the Doctrines to which thefe..
Miracles pretend to atteſt.
A. So it will; but then Miracles will fignify nothing, nor determine me one way
or other; but I fhall confider whether this Doctrine be reaſonable, and fit to come from
God or no, and fhall believe, according to the beft of my Reaſon and Judgment,
without regard to Miracles. I think I have heretofore learned thus much from you;
and the more I confider this Matter, the more fully perfuaded I am, that we are in the
wrong, to think the Devil can work true Miracles, or help any one to do fo. But
though I am thus affured, when I confider things naturally, and according to the beſt
of
my Reaſon; yet there are two Paffages in the New Teftament, that, when they
recur to my Mind, put me very hard to it; and if you pleaſe to let me object them,
and whatever elſe my Mind fhall fuggeft from them, and give me your Solutions, I
fhall be obliged; for they ſtart the fame Difficulties in the Cafe of Chrift's Miracles, as
the three Miracles wrought by the Magicians did in the Cafe of Mofes's.
B. The firſt, I gueſs, is that Paffage, Matth. xxiv. 24. where our Lord fays
There ſhall arife falfe Chrifts, and falfe Prophets, and fhall fhew great figns and wonders,
infomuch that, if it were poffible, they shall deceive the very elect. And if this be ſo, you
will fay, unleſs Men can diſtinguiſh betwixt the Miracles of theſe falſe Chrifts and
thoſe of the true one, how ſhall they do to diſcern the true Chrift and his Doctrine,
from the falfe Doctrine of the falfe Chrifts?
A. I fhall indeed fay fo, and I fhall aſk that Queſtion. For if by great figns and
wonders here mentioned, I muft underſtand great and true miracles; then does our
Lord appear to me to fay- I, by working great and true Miracles, have proved
my felf to be the Chrift, the true Meffiah; the Time will ſhortly come, when others
fhall arife, and call themselves Chrift, and to prove they are fo, fhall work great and
true Miracles: But I give you warning beforehand, not to mind them, or believe
them, for I only am the true Chriſt, and have ſo proved my ſelf, by great and true
Miracles. Would you have me believe that Chrift meant thus, and that he fo plain-
ly begged the Queſtion in hand? and yet I know not how to avoid this, if by great
Signs and Wonders, we muſt underſtand great and true Miracles. This it is that ſticks
with me; and therefore pray tell me, what I muſt do.
B. Why, you muſt ſtill maintain, that by great Signs and Wonders, we are not to
underſtand great and true Miracles; for if Miracles will prove one Man to be Chriſt,
the like Miracles will prove another Man to be fo too, i. e. they will prove neither of
them the Chriſt. Nor is there any great Matter in foretelling that falſe Chriſts and falſe
Prophets would arife, and work Wonders; this is not enough to keep us from regard-
ing, or believing them, if they truly work Miracles; becauſe it is ſo eaſy a matter
for any one that fets up a new Doctrine, to bid his Followers beware of any one that
ſhould oppoſe it, though with never fo fpecious Doctrines; and to tell beforehand that
fome would certainly rife up, and contradict fuch Doctrines, would be but a very rea-
fonable and likely Guefs, becauſe we fee it has been, and continually is, the Fate of
all Philofophy and Doctrine, to find Adverfaries that would fupplant and overthrow
that of another, to fubftitute their own Opinions. Let us therefore fee how fuch an
Argument would operate, where Reafon only, and not Miracles, fupports the Do-
ctrine. One Man eſtabliſhes a Sect upon Principles that appear to him exceeding fine,
and reaſonable and uſeful, and bids his Followers be fure to adhere to them, even unto
Death; and never to depart from them, although (as he eafily forefees) there may arife
a Set of Men, that will oppoſe them with equal Reafon. Every body fees that this
Defire
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An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
153
Defire, is only to continue to himſelf the Honour of a Sect; for if Men follow him on-
becauſe his Principles appear reaſonable, why are not others Principles to be attend-
ed to, if they alſo then appear as reaſonable, or more fo? I look upon our Lord to be
as well the Wiſdom as the Power of God, and therefore, out of Reverence dare nct
think he argues on this manner.. Let us put out the word Reaſon, and put in its Place
the Word Miracles, and fee how it will do then. Here is a Man that fays he comes
from God to teach the World his Will, which to follow is the only Way to Happi-
nefs: The World is fufficiently defirous of being happy, but it may be, diflikes the
Way and Method propoſed, and thereupon diſtruſts the Meffenger, and calls upon
him to prove the Truth of his Miffion. The Meffenger hereupon exerciſes a Power
plainly Divine, and works fuch mighty Miracles, as none can do, excepting God be
with him, and does thereby affure the World, that he came from God, and ought to
be believed; but having Occafion to remove, he tells his Followers, that they muſt by
all means perſevere in the Faith they had received, which they had ſeen eſtabliſhed
upon Miracles, (fuch as curing thoſe who were born blind, walking upon the
Waters, feeding thouſands of People with a few Loaves, and raiſing the Dead to Life
again) notwithſtanding that the Time would come, when falfe Chriſts and falſe Pro-
phets ſhould arife, and preach up themſelves and their own Doctrine, in Oppofition to
him and his; and to pervert them the fooner and the furer, ſhould alſo work great Mi-
racles, (cure the born-blind, walk upon the Seas, raiſe the Dead, &c.) Would the
foretelling theſe great Miracles ſhould be wrought, be ſufficient, of itſelf, to ſpoil the
Credit of them when they were wrought? Would it be enough to ſay they muſt be
falſe, becauſe they were foretold? I believe you will not think fo. And what would
be the Judgment of an unbiaffed Man upon fuch a fore-warning, but this? that
if Miracles give one Man Credit, the like Miracles will alſo give another Man the like
Credit, and that will come (as I faid) to this, that if they are wrought in Confirmati-
on of Doctrines, or the Truth of Meffengers, oppofite to one another, they will give
Credit to neither; for it is impoffible they ſhould, both of them be true. Do you then
think, upon the whole Matter, that when Chriſt foretels of falſe Chriſts ariſing, and
ſays they ſhall ſhew great Signs and Wonders, he means they ſhall work great and true
Miracles, fuch as he himſelf had often wrought?"
A. I believe no fuch Matter. It can never enter into my Mind, that God fhould
permit either evil Spirits, or evil Men, to work as great and true Miracles, to over-
throw the Chriſtian Faith, as Chrift and his Apoſtles wrought to plant and propagate
it.
B. But what if he ſhould permit them to work Miracles in Appearance, and ſuch as
would deceive the Skill, the Caution, and the beſt Attention, that an honeſt Man could
give and fhew, although they were not true and real Miracles?
A. That, Sir, is all one and the fame Thing to me; for that which I with all my
Skill, my Caution, and Attention, cannot diſcover to be a Delufion, and a Deception,
will never be fo to me, but will be true and real. Can you tell me, what this I hold
in my
hand is?
B. A Cane.
A. Then you know it is not an Eel. If you can tell which is a true and real Mira-
cle, you can tell which is an appearing one, and a Delufion, if you examine them
alike: If upon equal Examination they appear alike, they will continue ſo, till ſome
new Diſcovery be made to fhew the Difference betwixt them. But I befeech
you take your Place again, and let me be the Enquirer, as I defire and want to be
the Learner.
B. Away with your Refpect; if we can find out the Truth betwixt us, no Matter
who inſtructs or who learns. Iafk you therefore, are there not Abundance of extraor-
aſk
·
I Qq
dinary,
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An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
dinary, ftrange and wonderful Things that come to paſs, which we can give no Man
ner of Account of; fome of which it may pleaſe God to permit evil Men, or Evil Spi-
rits to bring to pafs, by which they ſhall endeavour to feduce unwary People?
A. A thoufand, and ten thouſand, without all Queſtion: But I value them not at
all, if I cannot underſtand them to be properly Miracles. A Centaur, Hippogryph, and
a Flying Dragon, are Things that were never feen; but if I fhould chance to fee a do-
zen of them together, I ſhould reckon it no Miracle; and yet no living Man, perhaps,
could give an Account of their Generation. Where I can ſee no known and fettled
Laws of Nature changed, fufpended, or fubverted, there I can fee no Miracle; let the
Event be never ſo ſtrange, new, and aftoniſhing. The Sun, you know, journeys
from Eaft to Weft, that is the Courfe that God appointed him to run; this I call the
fettled Courfe of Nature. Now, in itſelf, it is no greater Thing, to journey from
Weft to Eaſt, than from Eaſt to Weft; but we ſhould account it a miraculous Thing
to ſee him ſtep but fix Paces backwards, from Weft to Eaft. And I think we ſhall ne-
ver be at any Certainty, in difcourfing on thefe Matters, till we make the known, con-
ftant, fettled Courfe of Nature, the Rule by which we are to judge of Miracles. I
affure you, I account the turning Water into Wine, or a Wand into a Serpent, a greater
Miracle, than the walking of a huge Mountain for two Miles together, becauſe I know
not what the Power of feveral Cauſes in Nature may be; and greater than if I ſhould
know fome Spirit threw that Mountain two Miles at a Caſt, becauſe I know not what
the Force of Spirits may be. This Hint you gave me, as I remember, early, and I hope
may with Reaſon.
I improve it no farther than I
B. I think you are right;
and by theſe means, you need not be troubled to account
for a World of ſtrange Relations of moft marvellous Things; for they are nothing to
the Matter in hand, if the known Courſe of Nature, and its fettled Laws be not fub-
verted or fufpended.
A. What uſe would you have me make of all this?
B. Why, when our Saviour fays that falſe Chriſts and falſe Prophets ſhall arife, and
fhall fhew great Signs and Wonders -as you are not to underſtand thereby great
fo, let them fhew never fo great Signs and Wonders, and do
and true Miracles
the moſt aſtoniſhing Things that can be thought upon, you are not to be feduced by
them, whilſt you perceive no fettled, known, and certain Laws of Nature fufpended,
changed, or fubverted, by them, i. e. whilst you perceive no true Miracles wrought
by them. I may ſee a thouſand Events that amaze me, and confound me, but they'
may not be miraculous to me, properly fpeaking, unless they come within the Rule
before fet down, and thwart the eſtabliſhed Courſe of Nature that is known to us. If
you had ſeen the Angel convey Habakkuk through the Air, and known he was an
Angel, you would have gazed, and wondred mightily, but would not have` thought
the Angel wrought a Miracle, becauſe for ought you knew, the natural Powers of
Angels were fuch as would fuffice for that, or a greater purpoſe. But if
you ſhould
fee a Man bear up another Man, and carry him through the Air, you would, I believe,
conclude the Action were miraculous, becauſe you know, (as well as you know any
Thing) that Man is not endued with any fuch Powers. We know more of true Mi-
racles, than of strange Accidents; and can, I imagine, give a better Account of
them.
A. Well, but to perplex me more, we are told, that God, to try our Faith, and to
ſee whether we will forfake a Doctrine confirmed by true undoubted Miracles, may
permit the Devil or wicked Men to work true undoubted Miracles alſo. This, Sir,
is maintained by as learned Men of all Ages, and all Sides, as ever lived-
fuch as
·
B. Hold, Sir, I intreat you, of all Love, do not choak me with your great Names
and
3
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
155
and Authorities. As much of Revelation as you will, and as much of theſe great
Men's Reaſon, as you can bring: But fince we have hitherto ſpared all Names, either
with, or against us, let us go on, without offending either the dead or living. Can you
bring me an Inſtance, where God did ever permit a true undoubted Miracle to be
wrought, by one that would feduce the People from Chriftianity, on purpoſe to try
their Faith?
A. I know of none; but if theſe Seducers did at any Time work true Miracles, and
would by them ſeduce from Chriſtianity, the Thing is the fame.
B. I grant it to be ſomewhat like it. And what do they tell us we muſt do in fuch
a Cafe as this? for, I affure you, it is a hard one.
A. Why, they tell us, that as the Jews were to reject all Miracles, how great fo-
ever, if the Scope and Intent of thoſe who wrought them, were to carry them from.
the Worſhip of the only true God, to Idolatry So are the Chriſtians to reject all
Miracles how great and true foever, if they who work them pretend to contradict the
Worſhip of God through Jeſus Chriſt, and the Goſpel he preached among Men. The
Law of Mofes was the Standard by which the Jews were to judge of Miracles, and the
Goſpel is the Standard by which the Chriſtians are to judge of the like.
B. This is but bringing us back again to what we have difcourfed of before
We are, it ſeems, to judge of Miracles by the Doctrine they would eſtabliſh, and not
of the Doctrine by the Miracles that would eſtabliſh it; only this goes a little far-
ther, and will not let us believe upon the Account of Miracles, although we allow them
to be true.
A. What need was there of any Miracles at all?
B. O, take it right. Chriftianity was to be eſtabliſhed by true undoubted Miracles
at firſt; and ſo eſtabliſhed by them, that nothing but the moſt perverſe and wicked
Creature living, could hold out againſt it. And might not a Doctrine fettled thus by
Miracles, be again ventured to a Miracle? Might not a Man be tried even with a Mi-
racle, to fee if he could depart from a Religion thus eſtabliſhed?
A. Let us ſpeak plain, Sir, and aſk another Queſtion- Is it poffible for a Man
to loſe his Certainty of any Thing, by the fame means by which he got that Certain-
ty? If it be, then may a Man part with his Chriſtianity, upon the Score of Miracles
wrought to prove it falſe, as fairly as he took it up upon the Score of Miracles that were
wrought to prove it true. True Miracles can beget no more Certainty of the Truth of
Chriſtianity, than true may beget Uncertainty of it, if wrought in Oppofition to it. I
never durft for my Heart, believe that God could permit true Miracles to be wrought
by any one attempting to feduce a Soul from Chrift, when I remembred that Chrift's
Religion was eſtabliſhed by true Miracles.
B. But is not the Cafe of the Chriftians the fame with that of the Jews? If the
Jaws muſt reject true undoubted Miracles that are wrought to draw them to Idolatry;
maft not the Chriftians reject the like Miracles that are wrought to draw them to Apo-
ftacy?
A. Yes certainly; but as I remember, you taught me to fay, that the Jews had no-
thing to ground this Maxim on, but Deut. xiii. which you ſhewed me, neither did, nor
could ſuppoſe that God would ſuffer a falſe Prophet to work true Miracles, to tempt
the People to Idolatry, and I have ever fince been of that Opinion: So that now, I do
nót fay, I muſt reject Miracles that are wrought in Oppofition to the Worſhip of One
God but I fay- that none fuch are, or can be wrought, to tempt Men to Ido-
latry. And by the fame Rule I alſo affirm, that no Miracles, true and undoubted ones,
were, or can be wrought to tempt Men to Apoftacy from Chrift's Religion. And as
Deut. xiii. will not fupport this Rule of the Jews, making the Law of Mofes the Stan-
dard by which they are to judge of Miracles, ſo neither will this Paffage in St. Matth.
xxiv.
156
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
xxiv. 24. nor that 2 Theff. ii. 9. bear out the Chriftians making the Goſpel of our Lord
their Standard: Becauſe, at this rate, both Law and Gofpel beg the Queftion in hand,
and preſuppoſe their own Truth. I do not fay, but that both Law and Gofpel may
ſtand upon other Bottoms, and be fupported by other good and certain Proofs; but I
fay, that with reſpect to Miracles, they beg the Queſtion in hand, if they tell us we
muſt reject true undoubted Miracles, becauſe, or if, wrought in Oppoſition to them,
fince they were firſt eſtabliſhed upon true undoubted Miracles. For if you ſhould tell
me to-Day, that fuch a Propofition is true, and tell me to-morrow it is falfe, I fhould
believe it neither true nor falfe, upon your Authority, but judge as I found Reafon.
But pray will you be pleaſed to confider thoſe Words following- -infomuch that if
it were poffible, they should deceive the very Elect.
B. I confider, that our Lord relates the Matters of this Chapter, to his Diſciples,
on purpoſe to make them cautious of being deceived by theſe falſe Chrifts and falſe
Prophets, who fhew great Signs and Wonders. I infer therefore from hence, that
theſe great Signs and Wonders, muſt be of fuch a Nature, as that they may be diſcove-
red and diſtinguiſhed by the Elect, from thoſe true mighty Miracles that were wrought
by Chriſt, in Favour of the Goſpel, ſo that if they ſhall uſe their utmoſt Care, and
Diligence, and Skill, they ſhall not be deceived by them. Why did our Saviour, o-
therwiſe, forewarn his Diſciples of theſe Signs and Wonders, and bid them beware of
thoſe that wrought them? this had been to no purpoſe, if with their utmoſt Care, Di-
ligence, and Skill, they could not have diftinguiſhed theſe falſe Chriſts, and their Won-
ders, from the true Chriſt, and his Miracles.
A. But might they not have been deceived, had they not been the Elect?
B. The Elect are here, converted Chriftians, and fuch as had been fo for fome time,
and were now rooted and eſtabliſhed in the Faith. And the meaning is, that without
all Care, and Attention, and the Ufe and Exerciſe of their Faculties, the very oldeft
and the foundeſt Chriſtians, might be feduced by theſe pretended Chriſts and Pro-
phets, who would make fuch uſe of the Signs and Wonders that ſhould
go before the
Deſtruction of Jeruſalem, and play ſo many Tricks of their own, and be ſo confi-
dent in their Boaftings, that it would ftagger a modeft and diftruftful Man, to fee and
confider them. They must therefore beware, examine Things, and ſtand upon their
Guard: For the Underſtanding and the Senfes of good Men, are no better than thoſe
of their Neighbours; the Elect may be as foon cheated as other People, if they will
not look after themſelves. I take theſe Words to be a good Proof, that by Signs and
Wonders, we are not to underſtand true undoubted Miracles, for there is no Way of
guarding againſt true undoubted Miracles; they carry all before them, when once we
are convinced that they are true.
A. Be pleaſed then to make as fair a riddance of the Difficulties that ſeem to ariſe
from that Paffage of St. Paul, 2 Thef. ii. 9. Even him whofe coming is after the
working of Satan, with all power, and figns, and lying wonders; and I fhall be entirely
fatisfied.
B. This is a Defcription of the Coming of Antichrift, and tells us that Satan fhall
at that Time work as powerfully and fubtilly, as poffibly he can, to withdraw Men
from Chriſtianity, and make them believe a Lye.
A. What do lying Wonders fignify?
B. Either Tricks of Slight, and appearing Wonders, or Miracles that are to fup-
port a Lye, and falſe Doctrine; the Words may import both theſe Senſes, if the criti-
cal Men may be trufted; but I rather truſt to our Tranflators, who have rendred it
lying Wonders, i.e. falfe and deceitful Tricks, Things that may make us won-
der, till we examine and diſcover them. I will not deny but that Spirits may forefee
many Events that lie hid in their natural Cauſes, which are concealed from us, but
not from them; becauſe I do not know the extent of their intellectual Powers: And
from
1
I
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
157
from this Forefight, they may diſcover to Men a great many Secrets, who may upon
this Intimation, prefage notably. I will not deny them to be Creatures of great Force
and Subtlety, and able to do a World of aſtoniſhing Things, and able alſo to affiſt Men
to the performing many great and marvelous Works. I know but little of theſe Beings,
and the leſs I know, the lefs I am able to deny their Power to do fo and fo. But fince it
hath pleaſed God, to fend his Son into the World to reveal his Will, and to ſhew to us
the Way to Happineſs, and in order to our believing and being perfuaded by him, to
give him the Power of working Miracles; I cannot fee how he ſhould gain his Point
upon our Hearts, if the Power of working Miracles were common to any Being elſe
with him; and he fhould fuffer Evil Spirits and Evil Men to work true Miracles, in
Contradiction to fuch Doctrine as Chrift himſelf built and eſtabliſhed on true Mira-
cles. I underſtand, as well as can be, the Scriptures that tell me, Chrift did real-
ly work mighty Miracles; and I underſtand as well thofe Paffages that tell me he
wrought them to gain Belief and Credit with Mankind. But I do not underſtand half
fo well, fome Paffages that ſeem to ſay that wicked Spirits and wicked Men, may alſo
work great Miracles, in Contradiction of Chrift's Religion. Shall I therefore give up
what I do underſtand, for what I do not? Shall I part with Premiſes from whence I
conclude my Belief of Chrift's Doctrine is reaſonable and good, and take up an Opini-
on that deftroys thofe Premifes, fince I am not able to reconcile them? I think that
clear Places are to interpret obfcure ones, rather than that obfcure ones fhould perplex
the clear. It may be, you may think, that this is rather cutting than untying Knots.
I will fay in ſhort, that had it not pleaſed God to build and eſtabliſh the faving Truths
of his Son Jefus, upon Miracles, it had fignified nothing, if every Man living had
been permitted to work them, whenever he pleaſed: But fince he hath uſed and ap-
pointed them as the Means of Conviction, in Matters of the greateſt Moment, I can-
not but wonder at the unaccountable Eafineſs of Chriftians, in believing they may be
wrought by every wanton or malicious Spirit.
A. But what would you have People do, when the Scriptures feem to countenance
fuch an Opinion?
B. The Scriptures ſhall not only ſeem to countenance fuch an Opinion, but they ſhall
fay it downright, before I believe it. Shall the Scriptures tell me, that Jefus proved
himſelf the Chrift, the holy one of God, by Miracles? and fhall the Scriptures alfo tell
me, that Devils and wicked Men ſhall work Miracles to prove that Jefus was not Chrift,
nor fent of God? who will believe it? They do moft Honour, and moft Right, to
the Scriptures, who clear them beſt from Contradictions and Abfurdities, and Confe-
quences that would overthrow their own Authority. And for this Caufe, I will under-
ſtand this Paffage to the Theffalonians, in any other Senſe, than fuch a one as would de-
feat the whole Purpoſe of the Gofpel. For, if by lying Wonders we muſt mean true
Miracles, then fhall Antichrift do as much for the Support of a Lye and Wickedneſs,
as the true Chriſt did for Truth and Virtue, nay, he ſhall do the very fame.
A. No, the Miracles of falſe Chriſts and falſe Prophets, ſhall not be ſo great, nor
many, as thoſe of our Lord.
B. Who told you fo? or what Reafon have you to think fo? will they differ in Kind,
or in Degree and Meaſure? I have before given you my Opinion, touching the Great-
neſs and the Multitude of Miracles, and will not repeat it here: Let it fuffice to ſay,
that much muſt not be built on thoſe Diſtinctions of greater and lefs, more and fewer,
for they will not bear much Weight. One Miracle appears greater than another, be-
cauſe of its greater Confequences, and becauſe it affects our outward Senfes more; but
it really requires no lefs Power to make a Butterfly, than an Army of Eagles:
Nor leſs to reſtore Sight to four Blind, than to fourfcore or a hundred. Our Sa-
I Rr
viour
158
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
Eſſay
viour wrought a hundred Miracles, Mofes fifty, (let me fuppofe that Number for Ex-
amples Sake) is the Goſpel therefore fo much truer than the Law?
A. But will you not allow that Simon Magus did fome Miracles?
B. I will not deny Miracles to have been wrought by Men, that were neither Jews
nor Chriſtians; but I deny that any were ever wrought to prove that Mofes was an Im-
poftor, or to prove that Jefus was not the Chrift. I fhall, if you defire it, find Time
to give account, why it might pleaſe God to work Miracles by feveral Men out of
the Pale of the Church, for feveral wife and good Purpoſes; but I maintain, at preſent,
that he hath ſuffered none to be wrought, in direct Oppofition to the Truth of either
Law or Goſpel. As for what you fay of Simon Magus, to whom all the people of Sama-
ria gave heed from the leaſt to the greatest, faying, This man is the great power of God———
I verily believe he wrought no true Miracles; becauſe he was himſelf converted and bap-
tized, and continued with Philip, and wondred, beholding the miracles and figns which were
done, Acts viii. 13. And I think, if he could have wrought Miracles himſelf, before he be-
came a Chriſtian, Miracles would not have converted him to Chriftianity, nor would
he have ſo wondred at Philip who wrought them. As for the many Stories related of
great Feats, I take leave to ſuſpend, although they would not prejudice the Cauſe
I take in hand, though allowed as true as other hiftorical Narrations of that kind
his
are.
A. You would have me then, upon the whole Matter, believe, that fince Chrift
actually wrought mighty Miracles (as was foretold he ſhould) and fince he faid him-
ſelf, that the End for which he wrought them was, to gain Belief and Credit, with the
World
that neither Men nor Devils can work true Miracles in Contradiction to
the Gospel. You would not have me deny that Spirits, being of great Sagacity,
Force, and Subtlety, can foretel many Things, that are certain in their natural Caufes;
nor fay they cannot do moft ftrange and aftoniſhing Things, nor affift Men in the Per-
formance of amazing Works You would not have me deny any Thing of this
Nature; but only ſtand to this, that they cannot bring true Miracles, when they
would draw Men from the Worſhip of one God, or bring them to apoftatize from
Chriſtianity. This, I think, is what you would have me infift on, becauſe you ſay,
that Miracles are the Foundation, upon which it hath pleaſed God to build and eſta-
bliſh the Religion taught by his Son Jefus Chrift: And that fince theſe Things appear
plain throughout the whole New Teſtament, beyond all Contradiction, you would not
have me depart from the Belief of them, although there may be fome few Paffages in
the fame New Teſtament, that appear to ſay, that Evil Spirits, or Evil Men, ſhould
in Time to come, endeavour to fubvert the Truth of the Goſpel, and to that purpoſe,
ſhould be enabled, or permitted to work true Miracles: This Senſe of thoſe few Paffages,
you would by no Means have me admit, becauſe you think it confifts not with the other
Scriptures, nor with Chrift's purpoſe, nor indeed is reaſonable: And tho' I may not be able
to fay, what is the certain and determinate Senſe of them, yet I may well affirm that that
is not their Senſe, which would make the Miracles of Chriſt of no Effect. And what-
ever notable Stories are told of Simon Magus, or other Enemies of Chriſt, you think
they can none of them prove fufficiently, that true Miracles were ever wrought by any
one, that intended by them to overthrow the Goſpel of our Lord Jefus Chrift. This
I believe is the Sum of what you have endeavoured at large to inform me of: For
which I thank you heartily: But yet I muſt defire to trouble you a little farther. Sup-
poſe I yield, that neither evil Men, nor evil Spirits fhall ever be permitted to do any
true Miracles, in direct Oppofition to the Goſpel of Chrift: Yet how are Miracles a
proper Way of attefting to the Truth of any Meffenger or Prophet of God
when Miracles have been certainly wrought, in all Ages, by Men that were no Pro-
phets,
3
An Efay upon MIRACLES.
159
phets, nor pretended to come from God? What must I do with all the Miracles that
were wrought by Gentiles before the Coming of Chrift, and by Gentiles fince his Co-
ming?
B. Whatever God is pleaſed to do, he does for wife and good Purpoſes, but he
does not always difcover them to Men. When he works Miracles without declaring
his Purpoſe, his Purpoſe is effected though we know it not; and when he works them,
and declares the End for which he works them, they alſo attain their End, and we
know it. God works fome Miracles, we know not why, but he does; and fome he
works, and tells us it is to give Credit to them by whom he works them, and for thoſe
Works Sake, we do give Credit to thoſe Meffengers.
A. If I fhould therefore ſee a Man work many Miracles, without knowing or hear-
ing from him, that God gives him that Power, in order to gain him Credit, and that he
may be believed in what he fays, I need not regard him, or believe him, notwithſtand-
ing his working Miracles.
B. You muſt and would regard a Man, that ſhould work Miracles; and whether he
faid much or little, you would ſtrongly incline to believe him; becauſe, believing that
none can work Miracles, excepting God be with him, you would be ready to believe
him favoured by God, with whom he entruſted that great Power, and confequen ly,
think that Perſon worthy Credit; but I agree with
you, that
you are under no Obliga-
tion of Neceffity, to believe all that a Man ſhall ſay, who works Miracles, without de-
claring he is fent of God, and telling you, that God has given him that miraculous
Power, in order to obtain Credit with you.
A. You think it then neceffary, that a Prophet ſhould declare he is commiffioned
from God, for fuch and fuch Purpoſes, and that this Power is the Seal of that Com-
miffion?
Shew a Miracle for you,
B. I do; and that for this plain Reaſon, that we hear of a World of Miracles, that
have been done in all Ages, by Men that have pretended to no Commiffion from God,
nor to be fent at all by him. And alſo to prevent all Abuſes that might be made of ac-
cidental Miracles, which it pleaſes God to work now and then, we know not why,
and by Agents or Inftruments that knew nothing of the Matter, before the Miracle.
And therefore, I pray, obferve and remember continually, that Mofes and Jefus Christ,
delivered the Sum, and general Purpoſe of their Meffages, before they wrought any
Miracles to atteft that they were ſent of God, and were to be believed. Thus Mofes
told the King and Court of Egypt, Exod. iv. 22, 23. Thus faith the Lord, Ifrael is
my ſon, even my firſt-born, and I fay unto thee, let my ſon go, that he may serve me, and
if thou refuse to let him go, behold I will flay thy son, even thy firſt-born. This
was his Errand, this his End: Upon delivering this Meffage,
God told Mofes
and Aaron, vii. 9. that Pharaoh fhould fay to them
i. e. fhew me ſome convincing Token that you come from God upon this Errand
then thou shalt fay to Aaron, take thy Rod, and caft it before Pharaoh, and it shall become a
ferpent. This was a fairer Way by much than it would have been, to have wrought
his Miracle firft, and then to have made Ufe of its Authority to gain Belief to what he
ſhould afterwards deliver; becauſe, perhaps this Miracle might have been accidental,
and then it need not have been thought wrought to give him Credit; and the King
might have replied- -You only take the Advantage of this ſtrange Event or Tranf-
mutation, and think to recommend your felf to us, on its Account; how does this
prove you came from God? I have only your bare Word for it: Had you firſt ſaid
you came from God, and to convince me of it, had told me God would work a
Miracle, to witneſs your Commiffion; this Miracle had been a Seal of it; but now
I may as well fay, you take Occafion from this Event, to come upon your own Errand,
as you fay, it teftifies you came from God. Mofes therefore firft delivers his Errand,
and
160
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
and then, upon Demand, proves his Miffion from God upon that Errand, by undeni
able Evidence. And thus it was with our Lord Jefus. The firſt Time of his publick
Manifeſtation, when he entred on his Office -He began to preach, and to fay, Repent,
for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Or as it is, Marki. 16. Repent ye and believe the
gospel. And Matth. iv. 23. Jefus went about all Galilee, teaching in their fynagogues,
and preaching the gospel of the kingdom; and healing all manner of fickness, and all manner
of difeafe among the people. He firft declared the Purpoſe of his coming, and laid down
his Pretences in the general, and then convinced them by Miracles, he was the Per-
fon he ſaid he was, and was to be believed. I do not mean, that he took this Courſe
on every particular Occafion he found to work a Miracle, but that he took it at his
firſt ſetting out, which was the faireſt Way that he could take.
A. I had not obſerved this enough, before this Time; but the more I think on it,
the more I like it, becauſe (as you obſerved) it prevents and excludes all Manner of
Abuſes, and undue Advantages, that crafty and pretending People might make of ac-
cidental Miracles, or if you will, providential ones.
B. If it might be allowed me, I would fain diſtinguiſh all Miracles into providential
and evidential ones: thofe fhould be evidential ones, which God enables Men to work
in order to gain Belief, and which they know before-hand they fhall work; theſe are
fuch Miracles as Mofes and our Saviour wrought, and other Prophets, and ſuch as we
have all along been ſpeaking of. And thoſe providential ones, which are wrought we
know not certainly why, neither did the Inftruments that wrought them, know
thing of them, before they were actually done, as I before faid.
any
A. But what do you fay to my Queſtion, about Miracles wrought, as is faid, by
Heathens, both before the Days of Chrift, and fince? Would you have me believe
they were wrought indeed? and if ſo, what muſt I think they were wrought for?
ſince ſome of them were wrought by very wicked Men, who could intend no good?
B. You will excuſe me, if in Anſwer to theſe Queſtions, I fhall repeat ſomewhat of
what I have faid before. And first, it is very probable, that God hath in all Ages
wrought fome Miracles, without Regard to bearing Teſtimony to any particular Truth,
or Meffenger; but meerly to atteft his Providence, his Care, Protection, and Government
of the World. When Natural Caufes ftill produce their natural Effects, according to
the ſettled and eſtabliſhed Laws of the Creation; and Men purſue their Inclinations
and Defires, according to their Powers and Opportunities, and every Thing proceeds
uninterrupted in its uſual, regular, expected Courſe; the World of Standers-by grow,
in a manner, fleepy, dull, and unaffected at what paffes; and either reaſon little, or
amiſs, and are too often tempted to attribute all to ſecond Cauſes. This is not rightly
reaſoning, you know; but Conftancy and Regularity, to unconfidering People, oft
appear like Fate and ſtrong Neceffity, without any Interpofition of the Will or Un-
derſtanding of the Agent. And therefore God fometimes fees fit to produce fome
ſtrange, unuſual, and unnatural Effects, that ſhall aſtoniſh the Beholders, and thereby
draw them to Attention and Confideration, and as it were, awaken them from their
Stupidity and Dulneſs, and cauſe them to lift up their Eyes and Thoughts to God, in
Admiration, Praiſe, and Adoration of the Author of fuch mighty Works; ſo that this
alone may be a fufficient Account of many Miracles that have happened in the World;
that they atteſt to God's Providence, and keep up the Senſe of his Being, Power, and
Goodneſs in People's Hearts. Secondly, it may pleaſe God fometimes to work Mira-
cles, purely for the Benefit of fome particular Perſons, without any Reſpect had to the
Confirmation of any Truth, or Meffage. It is in his Nature to be merciful and good
to all Creatures, and there are many Cafes that may happen, that may call for a mi-
raculous and ſtrange Affiſtance at his Hands; not that can properly deſerve fuch Fa-
vour from him, but fuch as he, in Pity, may fee fit to relieve in a miraculous Man-
I
ner,
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
161
ner. I fee, as yet, no Reafon to diſtruſt all the Relations of theſe Sort of Miracles,
where it has pleafed God to reſcue Innocence, and fave the oppreffed, and cure
the afflicted and difeafed, by Means and Methods properly miraculous. It is not
to be thought that all theſe Hiſtories of fuch ſtrange Deliverances and Cures reported
by the Heathens, are meer Lies and Fictions, although no doubt but too too many of
them are. God who is Lord and King of all the World, hath not fo tyed himſelf to
either Jew or Chriftian, but that he often hath, ftill does, and always will difpenfe
great Favours to the Gentiles alfo, and where he finds Occafion, work great Wonders
for, and with them; and therefore there is no need of denying Miracles to have been
wrought among the Heathens. Theſe I call all of them providential Miracles, but
they fignify nothing to the Confirmation of any other Truth, than that there is a good,
a merciful and powerful God, that governeth the World, and loveth Man-
kind.
A. But granting this, yet what ſhall we fay to Miracles faid to be wrought among
and by the Heathens, even after the Coming of Jefus Chrift, when they might rather
do Miſchief?
B. I do not fee, why God ſhould not be favourable to Heathens, even after Chriſt's
Coming, and by permitting Miracles to be now and then wrought, keep up the Senſe
of his Being, Power, and Goodneſs among them: If you think theſe Miracles would
rather hinder them from entertaining the Chriftian Doctrine, by affording them an
Anſwer to the Chriftian Preachers and Apoftles, namely. that they had alfo Mi-
racles wrought among them- -I anfwer, that all theſe were providential Miracles,
and were not wrought either in Oppoſition to, or Confirmation of any Doctrine, or
Way of divine Worſhip, and therefore could be of no Advantage to the Heathen
Caufe, nor Diſadvantage to the Chriftian. But let me obferve to you, upon this Oc-
cafion, that many more Miracles have been diſcourſed of, and pretended to be wrought
by and among the Heathens, fince our Saviour's Days, than before them; which is a
Sort of Evidence to the Truth of Chrift's Miracles, a Confirmation I mean, of the
Truth of the Matter of Fact, that Miracles were wrought by Chrift, and a Confir-
mation that Chriftians infifted much upon that Argument to prove their Doctrine
For this it was that occafioned the cunninger Sort of Gentiles to fpread abroad
among
the Vulgar, that other People wrought Miracles, as well as Chriſt, and Chri-
ftians; and therefore that the Pretence of Miracles, was not fufficient to withdraw
them from their ancient, univerfal Worſhip of many Gods. They could not deny
that Chriſt, and Chriſtians, wrought both great and many Miracles, nor could they de-
ny the natural Force of fuch an Argument, unleſs they could oppoſe Miracles wrought
by their own People, to the Miracles of Chrift and Chriftians; for then they muft
fignify nothing on either Side, or as much on theirs, as on the Chriſtian Side. And
therefore the Temptation to invent a great many ſtrange Stories, was too great for
them to withſtand, and they fell into it. And therefore, as I faid, there is a great
deal more to do about Miracles, among the Heathen, fince the Days of Chrift, than
before.
A. But if the Chriftians had allowed that Miracles were and might ſtill be wrought
by and among the Heathens; had they not wanted an Anſwer, if the Heathen ſhould
have faid -you Jay we must believe the Chriftian Doctrine upon the Score of
Miracles wrought by Chriſtians; We fay we may continue Heathens ftill, fince Mi-
racles have been, and are, and may be ftill wrought, by and among the Heathens;
what would a Chriſtian have had to reply to this?
B. A Chriſtian might have ſaid "I do not fay that the Doctrine of Chrift is
"true, becauſe it has pleafed God to work Miracles by, and among Chriftians; for
* then I could not fay, the Gentile Worship is falfe, fince I allow that it hath plea-
I Sf
fed
162
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
(c
،
fed God to work Miracles alſo by, and among the Gentiles: But this I ſay, that
"the Doctrine of Chrift is true, becauſe he faid he came from God, and was to teach
"his Will; and in Confirmation of the Truth of his Coming from God, and of what
cr
he fhould deliver, he faid he had Power to work great and many Miracles, and he
"did accordingly work great and many Miracles. And I fay, moreover, that the
"Gentile Theology, and Way of Worſhip, are not built on, or fupported by, the
Miracles that have been wrought by and among the Gentiles, becauſe they who
wrought them, pretended not to be fent of God, nor came to fet up any particular
"Way of Worſhip, nor knew that they ſhould be able to work any Miracles, nor af-
firmed, at any Time, upon the Credit of thoſe Miracles, that Chriſtianity was
not the true Religion." All this I think, a Chriſtian would, or might have faid; at
leaſt I venture now to lay it down, as the fureft and moſt reaſonable Way of defending
Chriſtianity againſt all Exceptions, I mean as far as the Argument of Miracles is con-
cerned to defend it, which I confefs, goes a great Way with me.
<<
xc
(c
4. You make no great account then, it ſhould ſeem, of many wonderful Things
paffed among the Heathens, becauſe you ſay they were providential Miracles, not evi-
dential ones. But what will you fay to the Blind and Lame that were both of them
healed by Vefpafian the Emperor, as Suetonius and Tacitus relate the Matter, both of
them Men of great Credit. Theſe two People came, you know, to Vefpafian,
and told him, the God Serapis had fhewed them, in their Sleep, that he might
"reſtore Sight to the Blind, by ſpitting on him, and Feet to the Lame, if he would
"but touch him with his Foot. Vefpafian believed nothing of the Matter, and there-
"fore durft not ſo much as try; but being encouraged by thoſe who ſtood about him,
"he at laſt attempted, and had the Succeſs that had been foretold." What ſay you to
this?
B. Why, I fay to it, First, that it looks as if it had been in part tranſcribed from
Mark viii. 23. and other Places, where our Saviour uſes the fame Actions in curing the
Blind, Secondly, It appears an Artifice of Vefpafian's Friends and Followers, to raiſe
his Credit with the World: Suetonius fays, he was fo obfcure, and rofe to be a Prince
ſo unexpectedly, that he wanted Majefty, and ſomething to give him Authority with
Mankind, and that this Accident did very luckily do it: It looks fufpiciouſly, that he
ſhould be importuned by his Followers to do what he was aſhamed himſelf to attempt;
it looks as if the Matter had been laid by his Friends, and that they would warrant
the Succeſs. But Thirdly, believing the whole Relation upon the Credit of ſo good
Authors, I fay it affects not the Caufe in Hand; Vefpafian according to the Forms
preſcribed, was inftrumental in reſtoring a Blind and Lame Man; He was fo far from
knowing himſelf endued with any fuch Power, that he did not believe it, when told
him from Serapis; he durft not ſo much as try to follow the Forms preſcribed him to
perform theſe Works; he pretended to eſtabliſh no Truth, or Way of Divine Wor-
ſhip, when he had actually performed them; in a word, he made no Confequences,
nor defired any to be made, but that which would naturally follow, that the People
fhould hold the Man in great Honour, who was fo favoured of the fupreme Power, or
(in their Language) of the Gods. Do you not plainly perceive that this was a provi-
dential Miracle, that God was pleaſed to work by Vefpafian, without any Knowledge
of, or Pretences to fuch Power beforehand, and without any Inferences drawn from
the Exerciſe of it, afterwards?
A. I acknowledge what you intimate, that the Truth of Chriſtianity is not preju-
diced, nor the Miracles of Chrift difgraced, by any fuch providential Miracles wrought
by and among the Gentiles. But fure, the Worſhip of Serapis would, by fuch an ac-
cidental Advantage, be ftrangely encouraged, and how will that confiſt with the Wif
dom and Goodneſs of God, who has the Abominations of the Gentiles in fuch Ab-
horrence?
B. I
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
$63
·
B. I did not undertake to account for all the Permiffions of Providence: You may
lay this Difficulty down, if you pleafe, for one Reaſon why you ſhould not believe this
Relation; but my Buſineſs is to fhew, that fuppofing it to be true, it makes nothing a-
gainſt Chriſt's Miracles. However, I fay, that no Miracle could well be wrought in a
Country given up to Idolatry, but it might ferve to confirm them in their Miftakes,
fome Way or other, by a falfe Application; and it is not an uncommon Thing, to find
the Gentiles attributing thefe Sort of Vifions, and falutary Admonitions, to Serapis,
Ifis, and others, (according to the Country, and the Deities they worshipped) which
yet might well proceed from the true God, the Father of Spirits. But this is not much
to our prefent Purpoſe.
A. But pray, what fhall we do with Apollonius Tyaneus? the Accounts of that
Man's wonderful Works, they fay, are ftrange and furprizing; and he is, you know,
often compared with Chriſt Jefus.
B. You fay true: Great Things are faid of that Man; and Hierccles, who was him-
ſelf a confiderable Man, compared him to Chrift, and wrote a Book to that Purpofe;
which Eufebius anfwered; he who reads Philoftratus's Life of him, will find Caufe to
believe that he had read the New Teftament, and intended Apollonius fhould be very
like Chriſt. But Philoftratus wants Vouchers very much, and his Hiftory is fo writ-
ten, that I dare truft any fair ingenuous Heathen with it, and make him judge whether
the Life and Miracles of Apollonius be to be compared with the Life and Miracles of
Chriſt. But this is not the Thing in Hand; let Philoftratus's Credit be in this Cafe
good. Let it be granted that Apollonius wrought Miracles, what will follow? that
Apollonius's Religion is true? What was it? Where is it to be found? Give us an Ac-
count of the Theology he taught, and defigned to plant and propagate. No fuch
Thing appears, even in Philoftratus; He was a ſtrict Difciple of Pythagoras, and alto-
gether favoured that Sect: But did he ever tell the World, that they muft all of them
follow Pythagoras? Was that the Way, indeed, of any of the ancient Philofophers?
They made to themſelves Parties, and gained Profelytes, and had certain Opinions pè-
culiar to their Sect, which they maintained themſelves, and would have others alfo
embrace; but they ſtill applied to Men of Learning, and reſorted to the publick Schools.
Do you find any of them preaching to the Common People, and telling them, that
unleſs they change their Opinions, and follow Pythagoras, Zeno, Epicurus, or fuch
like, the Gods will never favour them, nor bleſs them? This was not their Way, nor
the Way of Apollonius; He went up and down, in a ſtrange Habit, and (as he had
Occafion) he corrected People's Errors, and blamed their vicious Practices; and faid
many good and wife Things; and talked to great Princes with a Freedom that became
a true Philofopher, that valued not the World, and all it could offer; but he fet
up for
no Religion, he amended the Ceremonies of feveral People, but he left them other-
wife, in the Way he found them. He facrificed himſelf, to Jupiter, to Hercules, tô
the Sun, and other Deities, according to the Places he came to, though not with any
living Creatures, for that was againſt his Maſter's Rule, to ſhed the Blood of any living
Creature; and if you will believe Philoftratus, he wrought many Miracles, fome con-
fiderable ones; but he valued himſelf nothing upon their Account, but attributed them
all to God, and fays no more, than that fo many People, as were the Subjects of his
Miracles, were benefitted by him: He wrought none of them to teftify that any
God had fent him; and he drew no Confequences in Favour of any Thing he had faid,
from any Thing he had done; he called not on his Works, to prove the Truth of
his Miffion, or his Doctrine; and is it not pretty ftrange, that People fhould at-
tribute more to a Man upon the Account of his Miracles, than he himself affumes?
Is it Modeſty in fuch a Cafe, not to own you came from God, with Commiffion to
declare his Will, and with a Power that will teftify to that Commiffion, when indeed
you
૫
164
An Effay uopn MIRACLES.
Eſſay
you are ſent of God, and are entruſted with that Power? Is it not rather to be want-
ing to your Duty? I wonder much to fee Men make more of Apollonius, than he
made of himſelf. A Philofopher is to be modeft; but a Prophet or Meffenger from
God is to be faithful to his Truft, to tell his Errand, and to bring his Vouchers; he
that comes from God, muſt ſay ſo, and muſt prove it. This was the Way that Mofes
and our Saviour took: Let them fhew us Apollonius making theſe Pretences, and con-
firming them by Miracles; let us fee what Sort of Divine Worſhip he eſtabliſhes, in
Oppofition to what was before in the World; or laftly, let us hear if he ſpeaks a Word
in Oppofition to Chriſt's Religion, which was then planted, and had taken Root in
many Places whither Apollonius came. You fee I allow as much to Apollonius, as his
Hiſtorian gives me leave; and yet Chriſtianity ſhall receive no Prejudice: His Miracles
will neither eſtabliſh his own Religion, nor fubvert the Religion of Chriſt, for they
were wrought for neither of thoſe Purpoſes: And ſo I will take my leave of him, when
I have obſerved, that nothing ſo ill becomes the Mouth of a Deift, as reproaching to
Chriſtians the Miracles of Apollonius; for if they are true, and to be built upon, it is
not Deiſm, but Polytheism is eſtabliſhed, for he facrificed, in his Way, to the Gods all
round, as their Temples occurred to him. As to the laſt Branch of your Queſtion,
what you muſt ſay to Miracles that are faid to be wrought by very wicked Men, I have
already told you, you muſt not much mind the Inſtrument that God ufes, for he ſees
good Reafon fometimes to uſe bad ones; Balaam prophefies, and Caiaphas prophefies,
without the Spirit of a Prophet; and Judas was an Apoftle, and was fent by Chriſt a-
mong the reſt, to preach the Goſpel, cure Diſeaſes, and work Miracles. And our Sa-
viour will fay to fome at the laft Day, who have wrought Miracles, and done great
Things and mighty Works, in his name, and by his power, I know you not, depart from
me, ye workers of iniquity. And therefore, the Conclufion is not infallible, fuch a
one wrought great Miracles, and was therefore a moſt holy, righteous Perſon; for God
may exerciſe his Power, and convey his Favours to other People, by Means and Inftru-
ments, unworthy (to our thinking) fuch Employment.
A. But though the People need not all be good and holy, by whom God works Mi-
racles, yet fure the Religion they profefs muſt needs be true.
B. Then have we been talking, all this while, to no Purpoſe. Why, Friend of
mine, the Chriſtian Religion itſelf, is not true, only becauſe Miracles have been and
are, and may be, wrought by and among Chriſtians. For, by that Argument, all
the Religions that ever were in the World muſt be true, unleſs we can difprove all the
Hiſtories and Accounts that have been given us, and ſay that no Relations but thoſe in
the Scirptures are true; a Taſk I would not have you undertake. But I fee
But I fee your Drift;
tell therefore thoſe confident Boafters of Miracles, that Suetonius, and C. Tacitus are
much more credible Authors, than a thouſand of their Legendary Writers; and that
if the Popish Religion be therefore true, (as diſtinguiſhed from the Reformed one ) be-
cauſe that Miracles are wrought by Papiſts, ſo was Vefpafian's Religion true, becauſe
he cured the Lame and Blind; tell them Philoftratus's Life of Apollonius is a true Hiſto-
ry, compared with the Lives of a hundred of their Saints; and that if Popery be true,
becauſe theſe Saints liv'd and died in the Profeffion of it, who yet wrought Miracles-
then may we offer Sacrifice to Hercules, to Jove, and to Apollo, becauſe Apollonius did fo,
and yet wrought Miracles. I will not be flow to ſay, that the Miracles of the one are
full as credible as thofe of the other, and have really done Chriftianity as little harm,
when believed. But of this Matter you may fee enough in all our English Writers.
Say only to theſe People; Lay down the Doctrines beforehand, which you tell us are
neceffary to be believed, as Parts of the Chriſtian Religion (and not believed by the re-
formed Churches) and tell us beforehand that God, to teſtify to the Truth of theſe
Doctrines, hath given you Power to work true Miracles, and then work them, as
Chriſt
I
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
165
Chriſt and his Apoſtles wrought theirs, in the Prefence of thoſe who are to be convin-
ced of the Truth of what you ſaySay this to them, and hear their Anſwer, and
till that Time, mind not any Thing they fay concerning Miracles, for all the reſt will
be but idle talk.
;
I ſuppoſe our Buſineſs now is drawing to a Conclufion, and I hope, I have diſchar-
ged myſelf of my Engagement, to your Satisfaction.
A. You have, Sir; and I have nothing left to ſay, if I may not trouble you, once
more, to recapitulate what has been lately faid.
•
}
B. I fay then, that it makes a remarkable Difference betwixt fuch as work Miracles,
that one ſhall know and declare beforehand, that he ſhall be enabled to work them.
Our Lord bad Philip furniſh out a Table for five thousand Strangers; but the Gofpel
fays- that he did it but to prove him, for he himself knew beforehand what he would
do, John vi. 6. So Mofes was before inftructed of God, that he ſhould do fuch and
fuch Miracles, which he foretold he would do; whereas the Magicians were fent for,
to ſee what they could do, and knew not that they ſhould do any Thing, till God per-
mitted them to try, and (for wife Reaſons of his own) permitted them alfo to do three
Miracles. They knew not when to begin, nor when to make an End; for (encoura-
ged by three Succeffes) they attempted to go on, and bring lice upon the land, and could
not; a certain Token that they were ignorant of any Power they had to do Miracles;
for had they known what they could do, they might have alſo known what they could
not do, and confequently, never have attempted it: For, it was full as eafy, to have
brought Lice upon the Land, as to have turned a Wand into a Serpent, Water into
Blood, and brought up Frogs upon the Land, which God had before fuffered them to
do. But theſe Magicians knew not they should do the one, nor knew they ſhould not
do the other. And this I take to be the Café of all, befides Mofes, Elijah, Chriſt, and
his Apostles, and fome of their Followers, who were all God's true Meffengers. This
is the Cafe of all befides them, that they either pretended to work Miracles, and could
not, by which they betrayed themſelves for falfe Prophets; or elfe they were permitted
to work Miracles, without pretending to it, or knowing that they ſhould work any.
To the first Head we may refer all falfe Prophets, and all the Stories of Miracles that
are told us, without good Proof: We have not fufficient Authority to believe them;
the Credit of the Relaters thakes; the Circumftances of the Story difcover the Cheat,
and a wife obferving Man cannot believe them. Under this Head I place a great many
Hiftories of Miracles done by Heathens, eſpecially ſuch as happened after Chrift's Time,
for then Miracles began to grow upon the World, in answer to the Chriftian Pretences,
for which much muſt be allowed to them: And under this Head I rank a thouſand
Fooleries and vain Pretences to Miracles among the Chriftians, who in this Matter
outlied the Heathens a great deal. Under the fecond Article, of fuch as have wrought
Miracles without pretending to it, or knowing they had any fuch Power, I rank all
the Hiftories of Miracles done among either Heathens or Chriftians, whofe Credit is
good, and related by Authors of Honefty and good Account. There is no need of de-
nying many Miracles to have been wrought among and by the Heathens. God is a God
that worketh wonders, and fheweth his power among the people. And as there are many
Caufes and Occafions of working Miracles, befides the giving Credit to his Meffengers
and Prophets, fo we need not doubt, but God takes hold of them, and uſes them to his
own Glory, and the good of Mankind. Nor is there any need of denying many true
and great Miracles, to have been wrought by and among Chriftians of all Ages. But
as the Miracles wrought among and by the Heathens, were no Proof of the Truth of
their Religion; no more are they of the Truth of the Chriſtian Religion, by being
wrought by and among them. That Confequence is not neceffary, becauſe God has
more Ends to ferve by Miracles, than the Confirmation of the Truth of a Religion.
{
I Tt
And
166
An Effay upon MIRACLES.
And when we hear of Miracles, wrought by Heathens, and by Chriftians, without
any Fore-knowledge of the Parties that wrought them, or without any Declaration of
thoſe People, to what End and Purpoſe they were wrought; we need not be concerned
to difprove the Relation, or to difcredit the Matter of Fact. Let it be fo, the Miracles
were wrought; what then? Is the Religion of the Country therefore of God? if fo, ap-
ply it to the Heathens, who have, without all Queſtion, had many great and true Mi-
racles wrought among and by them. If this do not follow there, neither will it follow
here. Let not Chriftians build any Part of their Faith upon fuch providential, acciden-
tal Miracles: But let them reft on the Foundation of Mofes and the Prophets, confirmed
by certain, plain, foreknown, and foretold Miracles; and on the Superſtructure raiſed
thereon by Christ the Lord, who knew he had the Power of Miracles, and foretold
what he would do, and to what End and Purpoſe he would do them, namely, to gain
Belief by them. God may reftore Sight to the Blind, by the Hands of a Man, who
knoweth not that he ſhall be the Inftrument of conveying fo great a Bleffing; and Peo-
ple will love, eſteem, and honour this Man; but it will not follow from hence, that
all this Man fhall fay, ſhall be believed as Revelation. But if a Man ſhall ſay he comes
from God, and is to declare his Will, and be believed; and to fhew he does fo, tells
them he has Power from God, to reſtore Sight to the Blind, and actually performs his
Word, and works that Miracle; the People will then be obliged to believe what he de-
livers them from God, not only for the Sake of his miraculous Work, but for the
Sake of his foreknowing and foretelling he ſhould work it. The Reaſon of this is,
that the Miracle is not accidental, but foreſeen. Had it been accidental, it had had
no neceffary Confequence; the Inſtrument might have been honoured; but being foreſeen,
the Inftrument had been alſo a Prophet,and therefore deſerved the Belief he wanted,and
wrought that Miracle to obtain. This Foreknowledge of Chrift (let me here obſerve,
fince I forgot to mention it in its Place) differed from that of his Apoſtles, Mofes, and
all other Meffengers of God, very much. Chriſt knew he could at all Times work
what Miracles he pleaſed; and that his Power was under no Reſtraint or Limitation;
and though he did not all the Miracles he could, yet he did all he would, and his Will
was governed by his Reaſon. Mofes, and Chriſt's Diſciples (even after all Power was
committed to them by Chriſt juſt ready to afcend) could not work what Miracles they
pleaſed; but ſtill they always knew what they ſhould be able to do, and therefore ne-
ver attempted any Thing in vain: The Foreknowledge of what they intended to do,
was common to both. For though it is faid Matth. xvii. and Mark ix. that the Dif
ciples could not diſpoſſeſs the Lunatick, yet you know that when they aſked our Lord
privately why they could not caft out that Devil, he upbraided them with want of Faith,
and faid it was because of their Unbelief. Now Unbelief fignifies here, the not believing
that they ſhould, by the Power of Chriſt intruſted with them, be able to do that Work
(as might be proved at large, if it were needful.) If Unbelief therefore hindred them
from cafting that Devil out, then it is plain they did not believe that they ſhould caft
him out; and why ſhould you think then they attempted it, who believed they ſhould
not effect it? I think it much more likely, that finding themſelves diſtruſtful of the
Event, and wanting Faith, they would not venture the Succeſs. This I think, is the
only Inftance, that ſeems to gainſay what I have laid down, and this, were there a
good Occafion, might be otherwiſe accounted for, if what is faid be not fufficient. And
to ſpeak what I think, this ought to make the Difference between Workers of Mira-
cles, above all other Things whatever. This Confideration fhews, that though all Mi-
racles have their Uſe, yet that thoſe alone can atteſt to the Miffion of a Prophet, which
he foreknows he fhall be enabled to do, and fo foretells to others; leaving no Room
for Suſpicion, that he intends to make Uſe of what accidental Miracles may happen to
be wrought by him, to gain Belief to what he fays. But I forget myſelf, and doubt
I have
2
•
An Eſſay upon MIRACLES.
167
1
I have rather been repeating than recapitulating what we have lately faid. But you will
pardon me, if the Zeal I have for the Cauſe in hand, hath made me tedious; and out
of a great deal faid, you may afford to forget a great deal.
A. I will ſtudy to forget nothing of what I have heard from you; for methinks,
am better able to defend my Religion on this Bottom, than I was before without it.
But whatever elſe I forget, I will not forget my Obligations to you, for your Pains and
Patience with me.
>
A
J
CON-
168-172
CONTENTS of the First Difcourfe on MIRACLE S.
M¹
Iracle, what it is,
Page 127
How diftinguished,
128
That this was no greater a Miracle than the fore-
going ones,
135
Who can work it,
ib.
Another Conjecture why God might let the En-
Whether Spirits can,
ib.
chanters work three Miracles,
136
Why none but God,
ib.
The Cafe of hardning Pharaoh,
137
How Miracles prove the Being of God,
ib.
The Force of the Objection,
ib.
The chief Uſe of Miracles,
129
The Enchanters own Confeffion,
138
The Hiftory of Mofes's,
ib.
How the Enchanters Miracles are to be confider-
Of Jannes and Jambres,
130
ed,
ib.
The common Solutions unfatisfa&tory,
ib.
Sum of the Whole,
Of Miracles, few or many,
131
Questions to be confidered,
139
ib.
Whether Mofes or the Enchanters wrought grea-
ter Miracles,
ib.
The Devil can work no true ones independently on
God,
Nor falſe ones that may not be detected,
Wicked Men work them by God's Power and Com-
miſſion, if at all,
No worfer Confequences from allowing the En-
chanters to derive their Power from God, than
from the Devil,
If the Diviner only gueffed,
140
132
ib.
No Egyptian was deceived by them,
Deut. xiii. confidered,
141
ib.
142
ib.
If he had formerly been infpired,
ib.
133
ib.
If he had formerly wrought a Miracle,
God permits not a Miracle to be wrought,
fuade to Idolatry,
ib.
to per-
143
How God tempted the Ifraelites,
The falfe Prophet was to be ſtoned,
ib.
ib.
Jannes and Jambres wrought three Miracles by
the fame Power that Mofes did,
How they might come to attempt it,
Mofes, Daniel, and the Three Children ac-
counted Magicians,
ib.
Conjecture why God might let the Enchanters
work three Miracles,
134
ib.
Of turning Duft into Lice,
I
The Doctrine to be eſtabliſhed is to be laid down in
general, before the Miracles are to be wrought,
CONTENTS of the Second DISCOURSE.
T was foretold that Chriſt ſhould work Mira-
cles, and expected,
Page 145
This was peculiar to the Lord Jefus,
That Jefus anfwered this Expectation,
filled thefe Predictions,
Whether all his Works were miraculous,
The End for which Chrift wrought Miracles,
The Cafe of the Paralytick at large,
The Ufe of Miracles deſcribed,
An Account why Miracles prevailed not,
Whether we must judge of Miracles by the Do-
Etrine, or of Doctrines by Miracles,
What would follow on the Devils working Mira-
cles as well as God,
144
Prophets are to tell the Sum of their Meffage be-
fore their Miracles,
Miracles providential, or evidential,
146
and ful-
Whether Simon Magus wrought true Miracles,
158
Of Miracles wrought by Gentiles both before
and fince Chrift's Coming,
159
ib.
147
Whether all People working Miracles are neceffa-
rily to be believed,
ib.
ib.
148
ib.
Mofes did fo,
ib.
149
150
So did Chrift,
160
ib.
151
152
ib.
Why Miracles might be wrought by Gentiles ib.
And that after the Coming of Christ, 161
More talked of fince, than before Chriſt, ib.
The Sum of what a Chriſtian has to fay in Defence
of Christ's Miracles,
ib.
162
ib.
The Hiftory of Apollonius Tyaneus,
Allowing all that is faid of him true, it makes no-
thing againſt Chriſtianity,
163
ib.
164
ib.
The Religion of Men that work Miracles, never
the truer for that,
ib.
155
What to be faid to the Papifts,
ib.
156
Sum of what was faid,
165
ib.
Difference betwixt Chrift and all others,
166.
What the Meaning of that Paffage, the Diſciples
157
could not cure,
ib.
THE
Matth. xxiv. 24. confidered at large,
Signs and Wonders are not true Miracles, ib.
Abfurdities that would follow upon allowing them
to be ſo,
Alike Miracles give Credit alike,
Strange Events no Miracles,
ib.
153
154
Whether People may be tempted by true Miracles,
Whether Scripture-Doctrines are the Standards of
true Miracles,
What is meant by deceiving the Elect,
2 Theff. ii. 9. confidered,
More Miracles, or greater, not to be infifted on,
Of the Cures wrought by Vefpafian,
This no Objection to Chrift's,
Apollonius was an Idolater,
173
THE
REASONABLE COMMUNICANT
O R,
An Explanation of the Doctrine of the Sacrament of the
Lord's Supper in all its Parts, from the Communion-
Service.
In a Difcourfe between a Miniſter and one of his Páriſhioners.
The PREFACE.
H
AVİNG been often call'd upon, both by my Office and the Rules of Cha-
rity, to affift good People, who were willing to understand and do their Du-
ty, in their Preparation for the Sacrament; I never failed of explaining the
latter Part of the Church-Catechism, which relates to the Lord's-Supper,
by the Communion Service, and recommending it to their frequent Reading, and moft
Serious Meditation; as well knowing that it contain'd the Whole of what the Church of
England requires from her Communicants, both to underſtand and practiſe: And be-
ing moreover affured, that whoever will speak on this Subject with Authority and Cer-
tainty, muſt ſpeak from thence; it being the publick and allowed Explanation of that
Doctrine, and the very Standard by which all other Explanations are to be meaſured,
and accordingly to be either admitted or rejected.
To fave my felf the Labour of very frequently repeating thefe Things, I thought of
İ
putting them together, in as ſhort and plain a Method as I could, and Printing them,
that I might have them to offer eafily to fuch as fhould think fit to advise with me on
thefe Occafions.
Whilft I was thus digeſting theſe things, and putting them in order, there occur'd to
mÿj Mind (and naturally I thought) fome few Particulars, which altho' they are not
abfolutely neceſſary to the underſtanding the Doctrine of the Sacrament, yet I believed
they might prove useful to fome fort of Chriftians; and therefore I thought it not unrea-
Jonable to intermix them in their proper Places; having found, in the Courfe of my
Experience, that many People had made the fame Objections, and aſked the fame Que-
ftions; and therefore that others alſo might be glad enough to find fuch Anfwers and So-
lutions as are herein given.
The Reader will, undoubtedly, find this little Book to differ from many that are writ-
ten on the fame Subject; and it would be ſtrange if it ſhould not, for they differ much
from one another. But I ftill refer to the Standard, in all things where that speaks: And
where that is Silent, I refer to the Reasonableness of what is faid by me; having had
my Eye continually upon the Holy Scriptures, and not being deftitute of Authorities for
moft Particulars, if there had been either need or use of producing them.
Some, it is likely, will conclude, I have made the Duty feem too easy, and thereby
have encouraged both the Careless, and the Over-bufy People of the World to come to
the Lord's Table with leſs Preparation than otherwise they would have done. To theſe
People I only fay, that I intended nothing like it, and have no Reaſon to think, that any
2 A
fuch
174
The PREFACE.
}
Such thing will follow: Men, I hope, will always come to the Sacrament with a true
penitent Heart and lively Faith, and then I am fure they will come Worthily. And
the eaſier this is to be done, 'tis fo much the better certainly. He who repreſents a gene-
ral. Duty difficult, does his Mafter neither Honour nor Service; but difcourages many
from Attempting to perform it, who would both Attempt it, and Perform it, were it
but reprefented eafy, in any measure. And 'tis demonftrable, that no Duty fuffers more,
on this Account, than that of coming to the Lord's Table; abundance of People not
daring to approach it, for the imaginary Difficulties they think attend it, to One who
comes with light and mean Apprehenfions of it. However, he who reprefents things
fairly, can neither be faid to make the Duty eaſy nor difficult, but to fhew it as he
finds it.
I have not adventured to fubjoin any Devotions, Prayers, or Meditations, to this
little Book; as well becauſe I intended it not for the Church, but the Cloſet; as alſo
because there is fuch Plenty of Books of that kind, as may very well spare any one elſe
that Labour; the Generality, indeed, of Writers on this Subject, having rather made it
their Business to raise the Devotion, than inform and fettle the Underſtanding of their
Communicants; in which thing I found no manner of need to follow them.
The Inftructions at the End, or Rules of Behaviour during the Solemnity, are to
recommend themſelves to the Reader by their pure Reaſonableness and Fitneſs; for there
is no Authority, befides the Rubric, in fuch Matters, that can enjoin any thing. But I
have always thought, that nothing external could be more edifying and useful, on theſe
Occafions, than a grave, difcreet, and proper Carriage; and have therefore infifted
much on fome fuch Particulars, as I thought would be most ferviceable to that purpoſe.
For, the Truth of it is, we are fuch weak and imperfect Creatures, that very little
Matters unfix our Attention, disturb our Prayers, and ftrangely difcompofe our Minds,
in the midst of our most ferious Performances; and therefore every one is to be careful
that he neither diforder himself, or Neighbour, by any thing abfurd, unufual, or indecent.
Having given the Reader an Account of theſe things, I muſt deſirè him, in any doubt-
ful Cafe, not to take my bare Word, but to confult fome faithful and diſcreet Spiritual
Guide upon the Matter, that he may either fee Reafon to alter his Judgment quite, or
ftand the more confirmed in it.
THE
x75
THE
REASONABLE COMMUNICANT.
Par.
Have, Sir, thought upon your laſt Words, "That it behoved every Chri
"ſtian of Age and Underſtanding to come to the Lord's Supper, or to
provide themſelves with fuch an Excuſe as they think will fatisfy Chriſt
"the Judge, when he fhall afk them at the Laft Day, Why they did
"not comply with that Command of his, the Night before he died, to Do this
"in Remembrance of him? And the more I think upon it, the lefs able I am to
find out any ſuch Excufe as, I believe, will fatisfy that Judge. And therefore I
refolve to loſe no more Time, in looking out for an Excufe of my Neglect and
Diſobedience, but to fet about what I believe my Duty, and make Excufes needlefs.
I am indeed of Age more than fufficient, but being of a flow Underſtanding, and
of a very mean Capacity, tho' I have read much upon this Subject, I entreat you,
in your Inftructions, to confider me as one very Ignorant, and bringing nothing
with me, but a Defire to learn, and do what I am bound to do.
4
Min. I am very glad it hath pleaſed God to bring to your Mind what I faid,
and to inſpire you with ſo wholeſome a Refolution as this, of fetting about your
Duty, is. Affure your felf, you would have lived and died without Excufe, had
you neglected it. For, this Command of Chrift being given to none but the
Apoſtles in Perfon, will either oblige none elfe, or neceffarily take in all Chri-
ftians of Age and Underſtanding: And that the Apoftles underſtood it to oblige
all other Chriſtians, as well as themſelves, appears from the Practice immediately
following, (which is always the beſt Expounder of a Law) which was, that the
Apoſtles and other Chriftians met together in Religious Affemblies, and partook
alike of the Lord's Supper. And that this was the Cuſtom of the Churches, where
the Apoſtles were not Preſent, appears from the Hiſtory of the Corinthians abu-
fing this Sacrament, 1 Corinth. Chap. xi. as alſo from the Argument which St. Paul,
from the Chriftians communicating in Bread and Wine, frames, in 1 Cor. x. in
order to deter them from eating Things offered to Idols. Now this Communica-
ting being made, by St. Paul, in that Argument, a Badge of their belonging to
Chriſt, as the Eating Things offered to Idols was the Token of an Idolater, 'tis
plain he ſuppoſes all Chriftians obliged, at Time and Place convenient, to commu-
nicate. And if it had not been, in his Time, the Custom for Chriftians to come
to the Lord's Table, his Argument had had no force at all in the 10th Chapter.
And if it had not been their Duty to come to the Sacrament, he ſhould not in the
11th Chapter have reproved them for coming in fo irreverent and diſorderly Man-
ner, but have forbidden their coming at all; for why ſhould they Commemorate
Chriſt's Death unworthily, and to their great Peril, fince there was no Obligation
on them to commemorate it at all? Since therefore he bids them examine them-
felves, and come; he knows it abfolutely neceffary that they ſhould come; and
this Neceffity could only arife from Chrift's Command given to the Apoſtles at
his laſt Supper, and repeated to St. Paul himſelf by Chrift: From all which you
may fee, that all Chriftians are certainly obliged to come to the Lord's Table; and
that no one ſhould exempt himſelf from obeying this Command, whom Chrift
hath not exempted: Let them therefore look well to it, who feldom or never
partake of the Lord's Supper. God be thanked, this will be no longer your Fault:
And, I dare fay, it muſt have been a Trouble to you, to have been negligent fo
long.
:
176
The Reaſonable Communicant.
you
long. As to the Inftructions you require, I know it is my Duty to do ali
the Service I can, in that Particular; but what I fhall give you, will be none of
Mine, but the Church's, of which you are a Member. I do not think I have Au-
thority enough to fay much, of my own Head, in this great Matter; nor will
you be any Lofer by that; for the Church will fay enough, and what it ſays
will be authentical, and of great weight, which is more than I can promiſe of
any private Man, any further than he agrees with the Church in her publick Of-
fices. And, for your Underſtanding, I would not have you diftruſt it overmuch;
for the Matter we are upon, requires no Subtilty or fine Parts; as you may well
imagine, when you confider, that this Command of coming to the Lord's Table,
obliges all Chriſtians, High and Low, Rich and Poor, Learned and Ignorant, and
therefore muſt needs be plain and eaſy to the meaneft Capacities. If therefore
you fhall know, ift, What a Sacrament is. 2dly, Why the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper was ordained. 3dly, What are the Benefits. whereof we are made Partakers
thereby. And lastly, What is required of them who come to the Lord's Supper, you
will know all that you need to know, and all that the Church requires of you.
And this you are to learn from the Church Catechiſm, and the Communion-Ser-
vice, which, as it is the plaineft and the eafieft, fo it is, doubtlefs, the fafeft
Method of Inftruction, and what you may moſt depend upon.
Par. I fee a great deal of Reaſon in what you fay, and a great deal of Security
in following the Church's Directions, and will therefore feek for no other Help,
for Information of my Judgment and Underſtanding; tho' I may, perhaps, have
recourſe to other Helps for expreffing my Wants in Prayer, and raifing my De-
votion. Let me therefore know, ift, What you mean by the Word Sacrament.
Min. I mean an outward vifible Sign, of an inward and spiritual Grace, given
unto us: Ordained by Chrift himself, as a Means whereby we receive the fame, and a
Pledge to affure us thereof. So that there are two Parts in a Sacrament, an outward
and vifible Sign, fomething that you can fee; and fomething fignified, which you
cannot ſee; that is to fay, an inward and ſpiritual Grace, which God gives to us.
And this outward and viſible Sign is inſtituted and ordained by Chriſt himſelf, as a
Means by which we receive this inward and ſpiritual Grace; it is the Inftrument,
or Conduit, thro' which the Grace of God is conveyed and derived to the Souls
of Men. And moreover, this outward and viſible Sign is as a Pledge to affure us
of that inward Grace; that is to fay, we are as fure to receive this inward and
fpiritual Grace, if qualified as Chrift requires, as we receive the outward and vifi-
ble Sign. And, fince it is the fame Chrift, who inftituted the outward Sign, who
is to beſtow this inward Grace, the duly partaking of the outward Sign muft needs
be as a Pledge to affure us that we fhall receive that inward and fpiritual Grace.
Thus, for Inftance, in the Sacrament of Baptifm there are two Things, 1ft, The
outward and vifible Sign, or Form, which is Water, wherein the Perfon is baptized,
in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, inftituted by Chrift. 2dly, The
inward and spiritual Grace, which is a Death unto Sin, and a new Birth unto Righ-
teousness: for being by Nature born in Sin, and the Children of Wrath, we are, by
being baptized, made the Children of Grace. Here the outward and viſible Sign,
or the being baptized in Water, in the Form preſcribed, is the Means, by which
the Party baptized (if rightly qualified by Faith and Repentance) receives the Grace
of having his Sins forgiven, and of being adopted one of God's Children. And
his being thus baptized, is as a Pledge to affure him of receiving the Forgiveneſs
of his Sins, and being made a Child of God, and Partaker of all the Grace and
Favour that belongs to the Relation of a Son.
Par.
The Reafonable Communicant.
177
Par. But may I not here enquire, whether the Death unto Sin, and new Birth
unto Righteouſneſs, before mentioned, do not intimate the Conditions upon Man's
Part, on which he enters into Covenant with God in Baptiſm?
Min. Every one indeed, who is baptized, does thereby engage and ſtipulate to
die to Sin, and to live to God; that is, to ceafe from Sin, and live a Life of Righ-
teouſneſs. But the Grace of Baptifm, is fomething beſtow'd and promis'd by God
on his Part, and therefore a Death unto Sin, does here fignify the Pardon of paft
Sins to him who is duly baptized; and a new Birth unto Righteouſneſs, is the
Promiſe of God's Grace to affift the Baptized in living righteouſly for the Time to
come. For every one who is duly qualified, by Faith and Repentance, to come
to Baptiſm, and is duly baptized in the Matter and Manner preſcribed by Chriſt,
is actually forgiven all his paſt Sins, and in a State of Grace, and regenerated by the
Holy Spirit. And yet, after Baptiſm, he is alſo obliged to die to Sin, and to live
to God: to crucify the old Man, continually to mortify all his evil and corrupt Af-
fections, and daily to proceed in all Virtue and Godliness of living. We are by Na-
ture born in Sin, and Children of Wrath, that is, under God's Difplea fure; but be-
ing baptized we are made Children of Grace; that is, our paft Sins are forgiven,
and we are put under God's Favour, and we engage in that Covenant to continue
fo; which cannot be, but by dying to Sin, and living to Righteouſneſs, for the
Time to come, which, without God's Grace, cannot be done by any of us.
Par. I am very well fatisfied with what is faid; and, if you pleaſe, would now
come to the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper; in which, I fuppoſe, there muſt be
alſo two Things; the outward and viſible Sign, and the inward and ſpiritual Grace,
the Thing fignified. What is the outward Part, therefore, or Sign of the Lord's
Supper?
Min. Bread and Wine, which the Lord hath commanded to be received; that is, to
be eaten and drank by all fuch as come to his Table.
Par. What is the inward Part, or Thing fignified by this Bread and Wine?
Min. The Body and Blood of Chrift, which are verily and indeed taken, and re-
ceived by the Faithful in the Lord's Supper.
Par. I can eafily underſtand that the Bread broken, ſhould fignify the Body of
Chriſt, broken on the Croſs; and that the Wine poured out, ſhould fignify the
Blood of Chrift, fhed at his Crucifixion: But, in good Truth, I cannot compre-
hend how this Body and Blood ſhould be verily and indeed taken and received by
the Faithful in the Lord's Supper: Thoſe Words found as if we were to eat the Na-
tural Body, and drink the Natural Blood of Chrift; I tell you, Sir, theſe Words
puzzle all plain People; what muſt I do with them, and how muſt I underſtand
them?
Min. The Church of England, in the laſt Rubrick of the Communion-Service,
declares, that the Natural Body and Blood of Chrift are in Heaven, and not here;
it being against the Truth of Chrift's Natural Body to be, at one Time, in more Places
than One. And therefore muſt declare, that we cannot eat and drink Chrift's Na-
tural Body and Blood in the Sacrament; fo that the Real Prefence, maintained by
the Church of England, is not the Prefence of Chrift's Natural Body, but of his
Spiritual and Myftical one; that is, a Real Prefence of Chrift's invifible Power
and Grace, fo in and with the Elements of Bread and Wine, as to convey Spiritual
and Real Effects to the Souls of fuch as duly receive them as the Church is cal-
led the Body of Christ, becauſe of his Spirit quickning and enlivening the Souls
of Believers. And ſo the Church of Chriſt did heretofore pray, in the Prayer of
Confecration, That the Spirit of God coming down upon the Elements of Bread and
Wine, might make them the Body and Blood of Christ, so that they who received them
might
2 B
178
The Reaſonable Communicant.
might be filled with the Grace of his Spirit. Now the cloſeſt and the neareſt Union
of the Spirit of God, with the Elements of Bread and Wine, that can be imagined,
can never make them the Natural Body and Blood of Chriſt: (For if there be but
One Natural Body of Chrift, nothing elſe can be that Body:) But the Deſcent of
God's Spirit upon, and Union with the Bread and Wine, may make thoſe Elements
as communicative of the Grace of Chriſt, and of the Efficacy of his Spirit, as his
Natural Body was, whilſt he lived upon the Earth: And this is what the Church
requeſted in that Form of Prayer.
Par. What therefore would you have me believe diftinctly of this Matter?
Min. That after the Confecration, fuch a Divine Power and Efficacy doth ac-
company the Holy Sacrament, as makes the Bread and Wine become the Spiritual
and Myſtical Body of Chriſt. And to affure your felf that the Church of Eng-
land knows no Corporal Prefence, nor any Change of the Bread and Wine into the
Natural Body and Blood of Chrift, you may obferve, that in the Firſt Exhortation
of the Communion Service, fhe tells us, That God did not only give his Son Jefus
Chrift to die for us, but alſo to be our Spiritual Food and Sustenance in that Holy Sa-
crament. Now Spiritual Food and Suftenance is, doubtlefs, the Food and Sufte-
nance of the Spirit; becauſe, when it is aſked in the Catechiſm, What are the
Benefits, whereof we are made Partakers by the Sacrament? The Anfwer is, The
Strengthening and Refreshing of our Souls, by the Body and Blood of Chrift, as our
Bodies are by the Bread and Wine: Whereas, if the Natural Body of Chrift were
in the Sacrament, what ſhould hinder it from being as much the Natural Food
and Suftenance of our Bodies, as any other Meat and Drink in the World; and fo,
in the Third Exhortation, we are told, That, if with a true penitent Heart, and
lively Faith, we receive that Holy Sacrament, then we Spiritually eat the Flesh of
Christ, and drink his Blood. Now, to eat and drink Spiritually, is a figurative Ex-
preffion, and fignifies, the Feeding upon Chrift's Body with our Heart, by Faith; and
fo the Church explains it, when the Miniſter delivers the Bread to the Communi-
cant, as you may fee in that Place. We are therefore as verily and indeed filled
with the Grace of Chrift's Spirit, by duly receiving thefe Elements, which he calls
his Body and Blood, as we ſhould be by eating and drinking his Natural Fleſh and
Blood; he calls the Bread and Wine his Body and Blood, and he makes them ſo
to all ſpiritual Intents and Purpoſes. And farther than this, there is, I think, no
going confiftently with the Declarations of the Church of England, both in the
Office of Communion, and after it. To fay the Bread and Wine after Confecra-
tion, become the true natural Body and Blood of Chrift, is to deftroy the very
Nature of the Sacrament, and to make the Sign, to be the Thing fignified; for if
the Bread and Wine be tranfubftantiated into the Body and Blood of Chrift, then
is the Sign loft, becauſe there is no Bread nor Wine remaining: Which is not on-
ly contrary to Senſe, but to the Definition of a Sacrament, which is made up of
an outward and vifible Sign, as well as of an inward and fpiritual Grace. As
therefore, in the Sacrament of Baptiſm, the Water remains ftill True and Natural
Water after its Sanctification to the myſtical waſhing away of Sin, fo do the Ele-
ments of Bread and Wine remain ſtill true and natural Bread and Wine, after the
Confecration of them to the End and Uſe appointed by Chrift our Saviour. But
as in Baptiſm the Water, when fanctified to that peculiar Ufe, and uſed in the
Manner preſcribed by Chriſt, differs from other common Water, in that it is made,
by Chrift's Bleffing and Appointment, the Inftrument and Means by which he con-
veys Forgiveneſs of Sins paft to the truly faithful Penitent, and regenerates him to
Newnefs of Life, for the Time to come; fo in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper,
the Elements of Bread and Wine, after Confeoration, differ from other Bread and
Wine,
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179
Wine, in that they are called the Body and Blood of Chriſt, and are the Means
and Inftruments by which Chrift conveys the Grace of his Spirit to the worthy
Communicant. And be affured, my Friend, that you can be no Lofer by this ;
for Bread and Wine (or any thing elſe which it had pleaſed Chriſt to have cho-
fen) may, by the Bleffing and Appointment of God, be as communicative of
Grace, as the true Natural Fleſh and Blood of Chrift it felf can be: For even that
(if you could indeed eat it with your Teeth) would no more communicate Grace,
or any Bleffing to the Receiver, without fuch Inſtitution and Appointment of God,
than any other Food in the World that you can eat.
Par. The Sacraments, therefore, being Matters of meer Inſtitution and Appoint-
ment, I am concerned to know no more, either what they are, or how they ope-
rate, than it hath pleaſed God to reveal in the Holy Scriptures. And it will be
fufficient, you fay, to believe that the Confecrated Elements are both called, and
made, the Body and Blood of Chrift, fo verily and indeed, to all Spiritual Intents
and Purpoſes, as to convey to the Faithful Receiver whatever Grace and Bleſſing
Chriſt hath annexed to the due Performance of theſe Holy Rites,
Time to afk, Why was the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper ordained?
It is now
Min. For the continual Remembrance of the Sacrifice of Chrift's Death, and of the
Benefits which we receive thereby.
Par. I fuppofe then, that at this Time we are moſt eſpecially to remember that
Chrift died for our Sins; and that the Bread, which fignifies his Body, and the
Wine his Blood, do put us in Mind that his Body and Blood were broken and
fhed for us upon the Crofs. This is a very eafy Thing; is there any Thing elſe
in it?
Min. No, nothing elfe; Chrift, when he inftituted this Sacrament, faid only,
Do this in Remembrance of Me: So all the Evangelifts tell us, and mention no other
End of this Inftitution. And fo St. Paul, repeating what Chrift faid to himſelf,
1 Cor. xi. 24, 25. tells us, ---- that of the Bread he faid, Take, eat, this is my
Body, which is broken for you; this do in Remembrance of Me. And of the Cup,----
This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in Remembrance of Me. And then explains himſelf
in the Verfe following, after this manner, For as oft as ye eat this Bread, and
drink this Cup, ye do fhew the Lord's Death till he come. After this, it will be no
wonder if the Church of England neither declares nor intimates any other End or
Ufe of the Inftitution of the Sacrament, than The Commemoration of Chrift's Death;
for how fhould any one know the Will of Chrift, but by his Words? and what
they are, you have ſeen. But now attend to what the Church fays. 1st, In the
first Exhortation before the Communion Office; On fuch a Day (fays her Officer)`
I purpoſe, by God's Affiftance, to administer to all fuch as ſhall be religiously and de-
voutly difpofed, the most comfortable Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ, to be
by them received, in Remembrance of his meritorious Crofs and Paffion; whereby alone
we obtain Remiffion of our Sins, and are made Partakers of the Kingdom of Heaven.
Then in the Second Exhortation: And as the Son of God did vouchsafe to yield up his
Soul by Death, upon the Cross, for your Salvation; fo is it your Duty to receive the
Communion, in Remembrance of the Sacrifice of his Death, as he himself hath command-
ed. And in the Third Exhortation, thus: And to the End that we should always re-
member the exceeding great Love of our Mafter and only Saviour Jefus Chrift, thus
dying for us, and the innumerable Benefits which by his precious Bloodshedding he hath
obtained to us, he hath inftituted and ordained Holy Myfteries, as Pledges of his Love,
and for a continual Remembrance of his Death, to our great and endless Comfort. And
fo in the Prayer of Confecration; ---- Who did inftitute, and in his Holy Gospel com-
mand us to continue a perpetual Memory of that his precious Death, until his coming
again.
180
The Reaſonable Communicant.
again. And three or four Lines after; ----According to thy Son, our Saviour Fefüs
Chrift's Holy Inflitution, in Remembrance of his Death and Paſſion: And when the
Miniſter delivers the Bread to each Communicant, he fays; Take; and eat this, in
Remembrance that Chrift died for thee. And of the Cup, drink this, in Remem-
brance that Chrift's Blood was fhed for thee.
Par. Since then the Scriptures, the Church Catechiſm, and the Communion-Office,
ſpeak of no other End of Chrift's Inftituting the Sacrament, than for the Remem-
brance of his Death; I need not be concerned either to enquire after any other
End, or to believe there is any other, whatever private People may offer in their
Diſcourſes on this Subject.
Min. You take me right: There is no other End declared by Chriſt, nor by the
Church of England, of the Inftitution of the Sacrament, than to come to his Ta-
ble, to take and eat Bread, and drink Wine, (made to the faithful Receiver Chriſt's
Body and Blood) in Remembrance of Chriſt's Death and Sufferings; but this muſt
not hinder you from doing all that is previouſly neceffary to qualify you to com-
memorate this precious Death worthily.
Par. That I apprehend: Nor muft I commemorate this Death, barely as the
Death of Chrift, but as he was a Sacrifice for Sin; that is, if I underſtand it right,
his Life was offered up to God, upon the Croſs, for the Expiation of the Sins of
the World, and for the Attonement of God's Anger; juſt as the Lives of Beaſts were,
under the Mofaical Difpenfation, offer'd for the Expiation of fuch and fuch Of-
fences, upon which the Party offending was acquitted of whatever Legal Guilt he
had contracted. When therefore I commemorate the Death of Chrift, I muſt re-
member not only that he died, but that his Life was offered up to God a Sacrifice,
and was accepted of him for the Sins of the whole World. This the Scripture
affures us of, in many Places; and this the Church expreffes in the Prayer of Con-
fecration, thus: That God, of his tender Mercy, gave his only Son Jefus Christ, to fuf-
fer Death upon the Cross for our Redemption; who made there (by his one Oblation of
himself once offered) a full, perfect, and fufficient Sacrifice, Oblation, and Satisfaction,
for the Sins of the whole World. This I underſtand, by Commemorating Chrift's
Death as a Sacrifice, or the Sacrifice of Chrift's Death; and I hope this is fufficient;
for I do not care in how ſmall a Compaſs my Belief lies, provided it be all that is
truly neceflary.
Min. You have read the Communion-Service well, and made good Ufe of it;
and indeed you need to go no farther: For all you have to do, is to remember and
believe, that Chrift died, and that his Life was offered up a Sacrifice to God, for
the Forgiveneſs of the Sins of all the World, and was fufficient for that Purpoſe.
Par. But what are the Benefits whereof we are made Partakers by receiving this
Sacrament? for though I come to it, becauſe commanded, and do there (as I am
alſo bid) commemorate the Sacrifice of Chriſt's Death, yet what Advantage is it fo
to commemorate Chrift's Death?
Min. The Benefits of Chrift's Death are numberlefs and ineftimable; it is the
Fountain and Foundation of all God's Mercies, which he either beftows on Men in
this Life, or promiſes in the other. And, doubtleſs, the Benefits of duly comme-
morating this Death are alſo very great; and therefore the Church's Anſwer to this
Queſtion is, The Strengthening and Refreshing of the Soul by the Body and Blood of
Chrift, as our Bodies are by the Bread and Wine. The Death of Chriſt, is as much
the Life of the Soul, as Bread and Wine are the Life and Suftenance of the Body.
Bread, you know, is the Staff of Life, and Wine is that which cheareth the Heart
of Man, and ſupporteth his Spirit; and they are put here to fignify the whole Suf-
tenance of Man's Life. As therefore a Man's Body cannot be fupported and main-
tained
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18
+
tained with Strength and Vigour, without the Sufteriance of Bread and Wine; fo
does the Life of the Soul confift in Faith on the Son of God, and would without
it languiſh away and die. Theſe you fee, are figurative Expreffions, and muſt be
fo, by reaſon the Soul cannot properly be faid either to eat or drink. But it is eaſy
enough to underſtand, that as Man's Body lives by Meat and Drink, fo does his
Soul by Faith in God, and Hope in his Promiſes; and that, as when the Body is
faint and languiſhing, it is fupported and revived by Bread and Wine; fo is the Soul
of a poor penitent Offender, (when fainting under the Weight of its Guilt) ftrength-
ened, refreſhed, and quickened again to Life, by remembring what Chrift has
fuffered for his Sake; how he died to redeem his Soul, to make Satisfaction to God,
for all his Sins, and reconcile him to him. And therefore to commemorate the
Benefits of Chriſt's Death, muſt needs be the Refreſhment, Comfort and Support
of a Man's Spirit, and the very Life of his Soul. But you will have a fuller View
of all theſe Spiritual Advantages, by Reading the fecond Prayer after the Receiving
of the Sacrament, wherein the Communicants give thanks to God (by the Mouth
of the Miniſter) for that he vouchsafes to feed thofe, who have duly received thofe
holy Mysteries, with the Spiritual Food of the most precious Body and Blood of Chrift;
and does affure them thereby of his Favour and Goodness towards them, and that they
are very Members incorporate in the Mystical Body of his Son; which is the bleſſed Com
pany of all Faithful People; and are alfo Heirs, through Hope, of his everlafting King-
dom, by the Merits of the most precious Death and Paffion of his dear Son. In which
Words, the Church numbers up the Benefits that accrue to the worthy Receiver.
ift, They are fed with the Spiritual Food of Chriſt's Body and Blood. 2dly, They
are affured thereby of God's Favour and Goodneſs towards them. 3dly, They are
Members of Chrift's Mystical Body, i. e. the Church, of which Chrift is the Head?
And, 4thly, Heirs of Salvation. Now, though we are made in Baptiſm, Members
of Chrift, Children of God, and Inheritors of the Kingdom of Heaven; yet was
it for the Merit of Chrift's Death and Sufferings that God was pleafed to enter
into Covenant with us in Baptiſm, and thereby gave us a Right to all thoſe Be-
nefits and Privileges. And therefore we have ſeen that the Sacrament was ordain-
ed for the Commemoration of the Sacrifice of Chriſt's Death, and for Commemoration
of the Benefits that we receive by that Death; and the Commemoration of theſe Be→
nefits is, in truth, the Strengthening and Refreſhing of the Soul, as Peoples Bodies
are refreſhed by Bread and Wine. To think, remember, and believe, that by duly
Receiving theſe bleffed Elements, we are fed with the Spiritual Food of Chrift's Body
and Blood, that we are thereby affur'd of God's Favour, Members of Chrift's Church,
and Heirs, through Hope, of everlaſting Salvation; to remember, I fay, theſe Honours
and Advantages, muſt Strengthen and Refreſh the Souls of humble Sinners, as much
as Bread and Wine can do their Bodies. You must bear with the Repetition of
theſe Matters, in order to your better underſtanding them, and their being the bet-
ter impreffed on your Mind.
66
Par. I thank you, Sir, and perceive I am no Lofer by the frequent inculcating of
the fame Thing. Let me now, if you pleaſe, give you a fhort Summary of what
you have difcourfed of, that you may fee, whether I have underſtood and taken
you right. "I find my ſelf indifpenfably obliged, by Chrift's Command, to come
to the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and I do not fee what can excuſe me
"from doing ſo, being of Age and Underſtanding, and having convenient Oppor→
tunity. When I come there, I am to do as Chrift bad his Diſciples do, take the
"Elements of Bread and Wine, and eat the one, and drink the other, in Com-
"memoration of Chrift's Death. The Bread, I underſtand, is, by the Appoint-
"ment of Chriſt, to fignify his Body, and the Wine his Blood. And when I eat
"the Bread, I am to remember that Chrift's Body was cruelly uſed, nailed to the
2 C
❝ Crofs,
66
66
:
182
The Reaſonable Communicant.
ઃઃ
"Crofs, wounded, and pierced. And when I drink the Wine, I am to remember
"that his Blood was fhed and poured out upon that Crofs. This Death of Chrift,
"I am to look upon as an Expiatory Sacrifice, which he offered up to God upon
"the Crofs, for the Sins of all Mankind, and for mine in particular amongst the
Reſt, if I take Care to qualify my felf as he requires. This Bread and Wine,
"thus bleffed and confecrated to this particular Ufe, I am not, you fay, to confi-
"der as common Bread and Wine; nor yet to think they are at all changed in
"their Nature; but to call them the Body and Blood of Chrift, and to believe they
"will (if worthily received) convey to me the Benefits of Chrift's Death and
"Paffion." This Virtual Prefence of Chrift's Body and Blood I can underſtand, and
it is Real as to all ſpiritual Intents and Purpoſes; for God, I am ſure, can as well
convey his Grace to my Soul, and make me a Partaker of the Benefits of Chrift's
Death, by theſe Elements, which, being bleffed, fignify and repreſent his Body and
Blood, as by his Natural Fleſh and Natural Blood, if I could eat the one, and drink
the other. Farther than this, I am glad to hear you think the Church of England
does not go. But fince all theſe great Advantages and Spiritual Benefits accrue only
to him who comes to this Table of the Lord, duly and worthily prepared, it is moſt
neceſſary that I aſk, in the laſt Place,----What is required of them, who come to the
Lord's Supper?
Min. To examine themselves, whether they truly repent them of their former Sins;
fredfaftly purpofing to lead a new Life, have a lively Faith in God's Mercy through
Chrift, with a thankful Remembrance of his Death, and be in Charity with all Men.
Par. A great Work, I affure you, if every Thing be confidered particularly.
Min. Be not frightned; it is no more than what all Chriſtians are always obliged
to, as well when they come not to the Sacrament, as when they come to it.
Par. What is it truly to repent of all my former Sins?
Min. I will tell you, in the Words of the Church, in her First Exhortation.
It is, To examine your Life and Converfation by the Rule of God's Commandments:
And whereinfoever you shall perceive your felf to have offended, either by Will, Word,
or Deed, there to bewail your own Sinfulness, and confefs your felf to Almighty God,
with full purpoſe of Amendment. Nothing can poffibly be plainer. You must be-
think your felf, how you have ſpent your Life paft, and what Commands of God
you have tranfgreffed, and what you have neglected; what you have done which
was forbidden by God, and what you have not done which was commanded. This
your Conſcience (if you be in earneft) will, upon fome fhort Reflection, bring to
Memory: And for this you muſt implore God's Mercy, and befeech him, for
Chrift's Sake, to forgive you.
Par. Is it enough then to confefs my Sins to God, and to be unfeignedly con-
cern'd and forrowful for having offended him? Is this to have repented ?
Min. You must remember, that our Sins are againſt God, and againſt our Neigh-
bour: And that Repentance implies not only Sorrow for Sin, but an Endeavour to
undo, as far as we can, whatever we have done amifs. Now, in all Sins that are ſo
done, as nothing of them can be undone, nor any amends made for them, there
to confess them, and be forry for them, is fufficiently to repent of them, becauſe it is
all that a Man can do; where a Man can do more, more will be expected from
him: For Repentance is the undoing, as much as we can, what we have done
amifs. And if you remember this, you will eaſily ſee what Repentance will ſuffice
for almoſt all Sins. It is therefore for fuch Sins (whether againſt God or Man, or
both) as cannot be undone, nor other amends made for them, that the Church calls
upon you, to bewail them, and confefs your felf to God with full Purpose of Amend-
ment. But for other Offences, the Church directs you otherwiſe. If (faith_ſhe)
you ſhall perceive your Offences to be fuch, as are not only against God, but alſo against
your
The Reaſonable Communicant.
183
your Neighbours, then you shall reconcile your felf unto them, being ready to make Re-
ftitution and Satisfaction, according to the utmost of your Power, for all Injuries and
Wrongs done by you to any other; and being likewife ready to forgive others that have
offended you, as you would have Forgiveness of your Offences at God's Hands.
Par. But what if I am able to make no Reftitution, or Satisfaction at all, for
the Injury I have done my Neighbour? Muſt I not come to the Sacrament, provided
I acknowledge and confeſs my Sin to God, and promiſe, in my Mind, to make
amends, whenever I am able?
Min. Yes certainly, for this is all the Repentance you can fhew, under your In-
ability of making Satisfaction; and fuch a Reſolution of being Juft and Honeft, is
fufficient till
you are able to put it in Execution.
Par. But, fuppofing I have wrong'd a Man, (as for Inftance, my Mafter, when
I was his Servant, and truſted by him) by defrauding him of Goods or Money, or
any Thing valuable, and am now convinced of my Fault in doing fo, and would
make him Reſtitution if I could, but find I am not able; am I obliged to confefs my
Fault to him, before I come to the Sacrament? Does Repentance certainly include
Confeffion to the Party injured? The Cafe, I doubt, is common; but I know it
was my own Caſe certainly: And what would you adviſe in it?
Min. If your Confeffion would do your Mafter, or any one elfe any Service, I
would not only adviſe it, but enjoin it to you. As for Example, if your Confefſion
would fhew your Maſter fome particular Cafes, where his Servants, or others whom
he Truſts, may over-reach or defraud him, of which he is not aware, and under-
ſtands not, there, you fee, your Confeffion would be of ufe to him, and preferve him
from others Injuries; and there, I would adviſe you to give him Information, that
he
may be more fecure for the Future. But this may be done under-hand, and in
generals, without diſcovering your ſelf, and your particular Frauds; becauſe, as the
Cafe may happen, fuch Diſcovery may do him no Service, and your felf much Mif-
chief; and where no Good can come to the Party injur'd by a Confeffion, there I
can fee no need of it.
Par. May I alfo make Reftitution when I am able, without diſcovering my Name
to the Party injur❜d?
Min. You may, where the Injury done is fully fatisfied by Reftitution. As for
Example: You have wrong'd fuch an one of fifty Crowns, or to the Value of that
Sum; the Injury here, is the Loſs of ſo much Money; when therefore this Lofs is
made up, the Injury is removed; what Good would it do, to let the Party know who
it was that wronged him? It might do you fome Miſchief, but I think it could do
him no Service. If he fufpected and impleaded you at Law, and you were caft, you
would be obliged to pay the Cofts, and alfo to confefs your Fault, becauſe you
would here clear your Adverſary of falſe Accufation, and juſtify the Sentence of
Judges, which is a great Good to the Common-Wealth.
your
Par. I fee the Reafon of what you fay. But what was the other Cafe, where I
ſhould be obliged to confeſs my fecret Fraud, though I could not, at that Time,
make Reftitution ?
Min. If your Mafter did either publickly accufe, or very strongly fufpect another
Perfon, of doing him that Wrong, which you indeed did him; here you would be
obliged to clear that Innocent Perſon, and free him from the Trouble and Injury of
being falfly accuſed, or ill thought of; and alfo your Mafter would be freed from
doing Injury, by falfly accufing, or unjustly fufpecting an innocent Perfon. Here,
you perceive, you would do Juftice, and a great deal of Good, by your Diſcovery
and Confeffion. But in Cafes where no Good would come, but Miſchief, by Con-
feffion of your Fault to the injured Party, there, I imagine, you may reſt ſatisfied
with Confeffion to God, and a Purpoſe of Reftitution when you are able.
Par.
184
The Reaſonable Communicant.
Par. I thought Confeffion had been always neceffary; but I perceive, that where
it would anſwer no good End, there it may be better ſpared, and without Sin. And
therefore let me put the Cafe, that I had polluted my Neighbour's Bed, and thereby
injured three Parties moſt notoriouſly; Him, his Wife, and My own: I muſt not,
by this Rule, confefs my Offence to them.
i
Min. Confider how much Miſchief fuch a Confeffion might do to your Neigh-
bour, and to your own Wife, and how little Good; and then you will fee the Rea-
fon of the Rule. You would break the Peace and Happineſs of two Families dur-
ing their whole Lives, and, it may be, occafion a World of Miſchief, from the
Rage of Jealouſy, and the Senſe of ſuch great Injuries. But miſtake me not quite;
I diſcharge you from confeffing this Sin either to the abuſed Huſband, or to your
own abuſed Wife; but I ſhould lay it ftrictly on you to confefs your Sin to your
wicked Partner, and let her know, (but with all Secreſy) how much you are con-
cerned at your Tranfgreffion, and how fincerely you repent of it; and how you wifh
that ſhe would do fo too. This Confeffion I would never excufe you from, becauſe
it would be the likelieſt Method to reclaim your finful Partner, and undo the Mif-
chief you have done; and truly, I cannot fee how you could repent in earneſt of this
Sin, without endeavouring to amend thoſe whom you had been fo inftrumental in
corrupting and undoing. And yet I would excufe you even from this, if there were
manifeſt Danger of the abuſed Huſband's diſcovering the Falfhood of his Wife, by
your Confeffion. You fee, I make the good Effects of Confeffion, to be the Rea-
fon of making it; and therefore where a greater Miſchief would probably enfue
from it, I cannot think it Neceffary. But it muſt then be made to God, with
Sorrow and Concern, if it be poffible.
greater
Par. But what if I fhould have finned with common Proſtitutes, and fuch as
make a Trade of it, and who cannot be prefumed ignorant of their Sin ?
Min. The Cafe is fomewhat otherwiſe there; and you muſt judge what Likeli-
hood there is of your Advice's fucceeding with fuch People; for where you think
they know their Way is Sinful, and Counſel would have no Effect; there, I believe,
you are under no Obligation to give them Warning.
Par. The Sum therefore of what you fay is, I think, this - That Confeffion
and Reſtitution are the two external Tokens of Repentance--and that the Rule
and Meaſure of Confeffion (to the Parties injur'd) is, the Benefit and Good that
would come by it. And the Rule and Meaſure of Reftitution is, a Man's Ability
of making it. So that where Miſchief, and no Good, would come by Confeffion,
there I may Repent without Confeffion, except to God. And where I am able to
make no Reſtitution, there I may Repent fincerely without it; and fo may come
to the Holy Sacrament, though I have done much Wrong and Injury. I wish I
could ſupply theſe great Defects with a proportionable Share of Sorrow for my Sins:
Can
you tell what is proper to excite and raiſe it in me? For methinks I am too
cold and unconcerned in this Matter.
py,
Min. Endeavour to poffefs your Mind with a true Senſe of the Heinouſneſs of Sin,
by confidering, That God who gave you Life and Being, and made you to be hap-
is fo diſpleaſed with Sin, that he refolves, for its Sake, not only to deprive you
of the Happineſs he intended for you, but to make you miferable beyond Expref-
fion, and that for ever in the World to come. Think with your felf, who Chriſt the
Lord was, and what he has done and fuffered, to redeem you from the Guilt and
Puniſhment of Sin; and you will have another kind of Notion and Opinion of the
Heinouſneſs of Sin, than you can have from either its natural Turpitude, or from
the Miſchief it does in the World, though both thoſe Things are confiderable. The
whole Oeconomy of Chriſtianity were a very ftrange Thing, unleſs Sin be the moſt
heinous
The Reafonable Communicant.
185
heinous and abominable Thing that can be before God. And therefore when you
would work in your felf, a true Senfe of the Heinouſneſs of Sin, you muſt con-
fider what is threatned to it, and what was done by Chrift, (the Eternal Son of
Gop) to fave you from it.
Par. But this kind of Sorrow looks (methinks) rather like Sorrow for the Effects
of God's Difpleaſure, which are Lofs and Puniſhment; than Sorrow for the Occafion
of that Diſpleaſure, which is Sin. I own, Sir, I am very forry for my Sins, when
I confider what a Lofer I am like to be by them, and how much I muſt fuffer for
them; but this is being forry wholly for my own Sake.
Min. Be content, Sir, to do what you can, and as well as you can. It would
take up a World of Time, to perfuade you to be exceeding Sorrowful for
your Sins,
if your Sins would do you no Miſchief, and procure you no Puniſhment.
Par. I think fo too. But yet I have I know not what kind of Concern about
me, that
my Sorrow for Sin ſhould proceed from no nobler and better Principle than
the Fear of Puniſhment. And you muſt know, much better than I, how all forts
of Writers and Difcourfes decry the Repentance that proceeds from Fear of Puniſh-
ment.
Min. Never think of fetting up for a Man of Honour in Religion; truſt to the
Principles that God hath implanted in you, which are, Hope, and Defire of Good,
and Fear, and Hate of Evil: And truft to the Rules that God hath ſet you in his
holy Word, to guide and direct your felf by. If God exhort you to fuch and fuch
Things, and promiſe you to reward your Performance of them with fuch and fuch
Bleffings, think with your felf, whether you may not fet about thoſe Actions, in
view of thofe Rewards, and for the Sake of thoſe Bleffings. If God prohibit you
fuch and fuch Things, and tell you, if you venture on them, he will puniſh you
in this and that Manner, think with your Self, whether you may not abstain from
thofe Things for fear of being ſo puniſhed. Theſe are plain Things, let them never
fo
flip out of your Mind. Nor let the Reverence of any Man (though it were St. Auſtin
himfelf) cauſe you to forget, that the Scriptures are made up of Promiſes and
Threats, both which would fignify nothing, if Men might not be moved by them,
both to perform their Duty, and obtain their Recompence, and to avoid both Guilt
and Puniſhment. Now the fame Promiſes being made to Repentance, which are
made to Innocence and Obedience, and the fame Threatnings denounced to Impe-
nitence, which are denounced to Sin and Wickedness; it is evident, that Men may
repent and turn to God upon the fame Principles, by which they might have con-
tinued Innocent and Obedient, viz. the Promiſes of Bleffings, and the Threats of
Miſchief, Pain and Mifery; the one to excite their Hope, the other to awaken their
Fear, and both to fecure their Obedience. But if you can repent upon any better
or (as you call them) nobler Principles, you may. I am only trying to fhew you,
that the Repentance proceeding from Fear of Punishment is fafe, and will be ac-
ceptable with God, as being both natural and reaſonable. I would have
you only
diftruft that Fear, that drives Men from their Duty, not that which urges them to it.
Par. I can, and do confider Sin, as a Thing offenfive before God, unworthy of
my ſelf, againſt my Reaſon and better Knowledge, and againſt exprefs Command;
and upon theſe Accounts, I am fomewhat troubled for having committed it; but
this Sorrow, I confefs, does not ariſe ſo high, as the Confideration of the Danger it
expoſes me to carries it; and therefore I am very glad to hear it is ſo juſtifiable
and fafe; and indeed my Reafon cannot difprove any Thing you have faid in its
Excuſe; I will try henceforwards not to be diſcouraged by any one's Authority,
affirming the contrary, if it be againſt Reaſon and without Scripture; and in the
mean Time, by the Grace of God, will try to fortify my Refolutions of Obedience
2 D
and
186
The Reafonable Communicant.
and Repentance, with the beft Confiderations I can, befides the Fear of Puniſhment.
This Sorrow therefore for having offended God, and Reftitution where I am able to
make it, and the Purpoſe of making amends when I am able, will, I hope, include
the whole of Repentance of my Sins paſt. The next Thing required of me is,
you ſay, stedfaftly to purpose to lead a new Life: And that refers to the Time to come.
The meaning of this is, I imagine, that I refolve in great carneft to amend in all
Particulars, wherein I have found my felf, upon Examination, Faulty. If I have
Stollen, I will Steal no more: If I have been guilty of Lying, Slandering, Swearing,
Blafpheming, Drunkenneſs, Intemperance, and Impurity, I will henceforward Stu-
dy to ſpeak the Truth, and to avoid thoſe Sins, and all Occafions of falling into
them, and be continually upon my Guard againſt all the Natural and ufual Temp-
tations to them. But what, if when I have made theſe Reſolutions of falling no
more into thefe Sins, I fhould be fo wicked as to break them; What muft I do
then? I have Reafon enough (God knows) to apprehend with Fear, that this
(which is fo common) may be my Cafe; and with what Heart can one, who has
often refolved againſt his Sins, and often broke his Reſolutions deliberately, reſolve
again to keep them?
Min. Affure your felf, that you have nothing elſe to do, in fuch a Cafe, but to
refolve again to keep thofe Refolutions you have often broken. The Breach of good
Refolutions is certainly as pardonable as other Sins, and, if repented of, will cer-
tainly be pardoned; and therefore let not your frequent failing difcourage you from
attempting again and again, till you have gained your Point. Remember there is
nothing elſe to do; it is abfolutely neceſſary you ſhould reſolve, until your Refolu-
tions take Effect.
Par. The Third Thing requifite to the coming worthily to the Sacrament, is, to
have a lively Faith in God's Mercies through Chrift. What may the meaning of that be?
Min. To believe in great earneſt that God was fo exceedingly gracious and mer-
ciful to Mankind, that he gave his only Son to die for the Redemption of them,
and to purchaſe the Pardon of all the Sins, which they ſhall truly repent of, and
leave.
Par. Is it then abfolutely neceffary that I, and every one who comes to the Sa-
crament, ſhould certainly believe our Sins are forgiven upon Repentance?
Min. Not only at the Sacrament, but at any other Time, whoever truly repents
of his Sins, thall certainly, for Chrift's Sake, be forgiven. The Promife of Forgive-
neſs of Sins is made by God, in Jefus Chrift, to Repentance; if therefore you be-
lieve you have truly repented, you cannot poffibly diftruft the Performance of Cove-
nants on God's Part. But it is poffible you may distrust the Performance of your
own Part, and the Truth and Sincerity of your Repentance; and then you cannot
but diftruſt the Forgiveneſs of your Sins on God's Part. And that is not want of
Faith, nor any Fault, for God only promifes Forgivenefs to Repentance. As far
therefore as you diftruft the 'Sincerity of your Repentance, fo far will you diftruft
your Forgiveneſs; but you ſee that ſuch a Diſtruſt charges God with neither want
of Truth, nor want of Mercy or Goodness; and therefore is no way Faulty with
refpect to Him.
Par. But may I come to the Sacrament with a Diftruft of the Truth of my Re-
pentance, fince in the first Exhortation I find thefe Words---It is requifite, that no
Man fhould come to the holy Communion, but with a full Trust in God's Mercy, and with
a quiet Confcience. Now, though I have no Manner of Diftruft of God's Mercy in
general, yet if I cannot apply it to my felf in particular, how Thould I have a quiet
Confcience? And I can never apply God's Mercy to my felf by Faith, whilſt I diſ-
truft the Truth and Sincerity of my own Repentance.
Min.
The Reaſonable Communicant.
187
Min. A quiet Confcience does, indeed, entirely depend upon the Opinion a Man
has of his Repentance being fincere, and accepted of God: But becaufe a Man may
miftake his Cafe, a quiet Confcience is not always a fecure State with refpect to God:
For if a Man believe he has repented truly, and yet has not, he is never the nearer
Pardon for thinking himſelf pardoned; and if he be fearful he has not repented as
he ought, he may yet have done fo, notwithſtanding his Fear, and confequently
be pardoned of God, although he think he is not pardoned. So that it is plain a
Man may have a quiet Confcience, when he is really in great Danger; and a troubled
Confcience, when he is indeed forgiven, and fecure of God's Favour; and you can
never believe that God will judge Men finally by their prefent Affurance, or Defpon-
dency, but by the Truth and the Sincerity of their Repentance. The Church does
not therefore underftand by a quiet Confcience, a full Affurance in every one that
his Repentance is ſo perfect and fufficient, that it muſt certainly be accepted of God;
but fuch a truſt in God's Mercy, as that if a Man be duly qualified, he fhall be cer-
tainly accepted of him, and forgiven. Some Mens Sins may be of fuch a Nature,
as that they fhall be forely perplext to underſtand what fort of Repentance is ne-
ceffary to the obtaining Forgiveneſs; and to this End, they are called upon to advife
with their Spiritual Guides, who are prefumed to be able to inftruct them, and ſet
them Right. Others are fo overwhelmed with the Senfe of their Sins, that they
think they are too great for God's Pardon; and thefe People are alſo adviſed to come
to their Paſtors, that they may learn the true Extent of God's Mercies in Jefus Chrift,
and what it is will qualify them for Forgiveneſs of their Sins. This is the quiet Con-
Science that the Church requires of her Communicants; a Confcience well informed
of the Nature of God's Promifes and Threats, and of the Nature of Repentance,
and of its own State and Condition.
Par. If I underſtand you Right, you fay, that the Quiet of a Man's Confcience
depends upon his Opinion and Perfwafion; but his Safety and Security, upon his
Practice; God accepts him, not according to what he believes of himself, "but ac-
cording to what he does, and truly is. If, therefore, upon a ferious Examination
of my Life paſt, I find I am in earneſt very much concerned for having offended
God, and ſtedfaſtly purpofe to do fo no more, and, by the Affiftance of his Grace,
refolve to lead a new and better Life for the Time to come, and firmly believe that
if I do fo, God will, for Chrift's Sake, accept of my Repentance, and enable me
more and more to walk carefully before him: If I do thus, I may, you ſay, come
to the Sacrament, although I may be ftill afraid of the Deceitfulneſs of my own
Heart, and of the Truth and Sincerity of my Repentance, having often broken my
good Reſolutions before, and fallen again into my old Sins: This Fear and Doubt-
ing of my felf will not prejudice me at all.
The Thing that follows is, to hear a thankful Remembrance of Chrift's Death:
That is, I fuppofe, that when I commemorate the Death and Sufferings of Chrift,
in the Sacrament, I muſt lift up my Heart to God, and thank him for giving his
Son Jeſus Chriſt to die for me; I fee a great deal of Reaſon for fo doing; for if he
had not died, I muſt have periſhed, I can never therefore Remember his Death,
without remembring the Deliverance I obtain by it: And as I value that, fo I fhall
certainly be thankful.
Min. You fay Right: Remember by what Means you have eſcaped Death, and
ſhall obtain Life and Happineſs everlaſting, and that will raiſe your Gratitude to God,
this
who hath done fo great Things for you. The Church lays mighty Stress upon
thankful Heart, as there is great Reafon, and it will be to your Ufe to obferve it.---
In the first Exhortation---She fays, It is our Duty to render most humble and hearty
Thanks to Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, for that he hath given his Son our Sa-
vicur
188
The Reaſonable Communicant:
viour Jeſus Chriſt, not only to die for us, but alſo to be our Spiritual Food and Sufte-
nance in that Holy Sacrament. And in the Third Exhortation; Above all Things you
must give moſt humble and hearty Thanks to God the Father; the Son, and the Holy
Ghoft, for the Redemption of the World, by the Death and Paffion of our Saviour Chriſt,
both God and Man. And at the End of the fame---To him therefore, with the Father,
and the Holy Ghoft, let us give (as we are most bounden) continual Thanks: And in the
Service--the Prieſt exhorts, Let us give Thanks unto our Lord God and the People
anſwer-It is meet and right fo to do.---So when the Bread is delivered Take and
eat this, in Remembrance that Chrift died for thee, and feed on him, in thy Heart, by
Faith with Thanksgiving. And when the Cup,--Drink this, in Remembrance that
Chrift's Blood was ſhed for thee, and be thankful. And in the Prayer after, we defire
of God, that he would Mercifully accept our Sacrifice of Praife and Thanksgiving, and
heartily thank him for that he does vouchsafe to feed us, &c. From all which Paffages,
you will eafily conclude, the Lord's Supper to be a Feast of Joy and Gratitude. And
therefore I ſhould be glad you would come to it without thofe Fears and dreadful
Apprehenfions that appear ſo viſible in the Countenance and Behaviour of many
good, devout People, who, I dare fay, have no true Cauſe for ſuch a Concern.
Par. I fuppoſe it proceeds from their Humility, and a deep Senſe of their Un-
worthiness, and I hope there is no Harm or Danger in it; it is as like to be my
Cafe, as any Body's elfe.
be
Min. No, none at all: I do not blame it by any Means: But if you will be ad-
viſed by me, you ſhall endeavour to avoid it; for Fears diſtract the Attention, and
the Mind is bewildred by them, and confiders not the Work it is about, fo well as
it defires to do. Think, that though you are a grievous Sinner, yet God is infinitely
merciful: Think, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whofoever believeth on
him, ſhould not Periſh, but be faved: And you are now commemorating that Death
that has made Attonement for the Sins of the whole World. Thefe Confiderations
may difpel all your Fears; but if they do not, there is no harm in them; it will
your Misfortune to want thoſe Comforts that you might well have; but there
is neither Fault nor Danger in wanting them: The Heart is as fecure, but not as
eafy, under Fear, as under Joy and good Affurance. Repent but truly of your Sins,
and leave them, and the Work is done; the Reft is to be left to God, in whoſe
Hands you never will miſcarry, how fearful foever you may be of your Condition.
Par. God be thanked, that our Safety depends not on our Hopes or Fears,
but upon his infinite Goodneſs, accepting what he himſelf enables us to do.
Let us come, if you pleaſe, to the last Thing requifite; and that is, the being in
Charity with all Men. What if my Friend prove Falſe, Injurious, and Endeavour
to undo me? Muft I ftill truft him, love him, and favour him, as I uſed to do?
What if he ſeek to take away my Eſtate, to hurt my Reputation, or affault my
Perfon? Muft I endure this patiently, and feek no Remedy, but treat him in the
friendly Manner I was wont?
Min. No, nothing of all this: Chriſtianity obliges you to hate no Man; to do
no Man any Injury; to feek no Revenge; nor to take any, though it might be
done with Secrecy and Safety: Nay, it obliges you to pray to God for the For-
giveneſs of fuch as may have injured you in the higheſt Meaſure, and obliges
you to deny them nothing that is due in Juſtice, in Humanity, and Mercy. Their
Enmity and ill Ufage will never excuſe you from doing them any fort of good
Turns that are due to them, as Men or Chriftians. But this will not hinder you
from defending your ſelf from any Injury or Violence; from recovering what is your
own; nor from bringing upon them whatever Miſchief the Laws will inflict upon
Tranfgreffors. Chriſtianity will not hinder you from breaking off Friendſhip with
one,
!
The Reafonable Communicant.
189
one, who has fhewed himſelf unworthy of it; much lefs will it require you to
continue him in that Confidence and Truft, he has heretofore been in, but for
feited by Falfhood and ill Ufage. In a Word, you must not hate, but you may
diflike, any one that injures your Reputation, Fortune, or your Perſon. You
may ceaſe your Friendſhip, but not your Readineſs to do all good Offices: If
you have injured any one, you muſt be reconciled and make amends; and if any
one has injured you, you muſt pray to God to forgive them, and fo forgive them
your ſelf, as to return them no Evil for Evil, nor take any Advantage againſt them
to their Prejudice. And if your Adverſary be unreaſonable, and will not be re-
conciled to you, it is enough that you defire it, and fhew your felf difpoſed to it.
It would be difficult and endleſs to tell you, what you fhould do in as many
Cafes as may eafily happen; if you find your felf at a ſtand, you had beſt Com-
municate your Caſe to ſome prudent and good ſpiritual Guide, who will eafily tell
you what is to be done in the Matter. Remember only, that to be on the for-
giving Side, is Wiſdom, and Pleaſure, and Superiority; it is to do bravely, and to
be a good Chriſtian.
Par. And this, you fay, is all I have to do.
Min. You ſee the Catechiſm ſays fo; and the First Exhortation before the Com-
munion fays fo. And fo does the Third, which is always read-Fudge therefore
your felves, Brethren, that you be not judged of the Lord-Repent you truly for your
Sins paſt-have a lively and ſtedfaſt Faith in Chrift your Saviour---Amend your Lives
---and be in perfect Charity with all Men--fo ſhall you be meet Partakers of thoſe boly
Myfteries. And when this Exhortatory Prayer is done---the Church begins again
---Ye that do truly and earnestly repent you of your Sins,---and are in Love and
Charity with your Neighbours---and intend to lead a new Life, following the Command-
ments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy Ways---Draw near with Faith,
and take this holy Sacrament to your Comfort. And I pray, obſerve that there is no-
thing New required of you, but what you were before obliged to, by Virtue of
your Baptifinal Covenant: And whether you receive the Sacrament or no, you muſt
repent, amend, truft in God's Mercies, and live in Love and Charity with all Men,
you muſt do them always, and you are call'd upon eſpecially to do them now.
Par. You will now give me leave to aſk you a few Queſtions, in the General,
and I ſhall make an end of this Trouble. How much Time muft I take, to come
to the Sacrament prepared, as you have been deſcribing?
Min. No certain Time can be affign'd for that; and I would not have
you fcru-
pulous about it: Since this is the firft Time, you ſhall do well to examine your
Confcience throughly, and look carefully back into your Life paſt, and fee wherein
you have been faulty, or neglectful; confider eſpecially the Sins of your Inclination,
and thoſe to which your particular Calling, and way of Living, expoſe you moft;
confider well the Temptations that draw you to them; that you may refolve with
good Affurance againſt them, for the Time to come, as well as truly repent of
what is paſt. Do this very well at firit, and then, a Sober, Virtuous, and Religi-
ous Life, will keep you conftantly prepared, and fit to come to the Lord's Table.
You may take as much Time as you pleaſe to prepare your felf before-hand, by
Reading, Prayer, and Meditation; but I dare not ſay, that this or that Portion of
Time is ſo neceffary to it, as that you ſhall offend if you ſpend it not in thoſe
good Exerciſes. The Church has made no fuch Rules, but fuppofes, that if you
live like a good Chriſtian, a little Time will fit you for the Sacrament. And truly,
as you are a Man of Bufinefs, do you but fay your Prayers conftantly, live virtu-
ouſly, and exerciſe your Calling honeftly and confcientiouſly, and I do not fee but
you may be in your Shop on Saturday, and be a good Communicant on Sunday
Morning,
2 È
190
The Reafonable Communicant.
!
Morning. To be heartily humbled before God for our Sins paft, is an act of the
Mind. To refolve ftedfaftly to live better for the Time to come, is an act of the
Mind. To believe that Chrift died for our Sins, and to be thankful to God for that
infinite Mercy, are Acts of the Mind. And fo it is, to forgive all that have injured
us. All theſe preparatory Things are Acts of the Mind, and quickly performed.
And therefore take but Care to live well, and you fhall always be duly prepared
to come to the Communion. And when you confider how frequently the Pri-
mitive Chriſtians went to the Sacrament, and yet were Lawyers, Tradefmen, Mer-
chants, and followed other Employments, you will conclude that an innocent and
virtuous Life muſt fit one for the Sacrament, without a Week's, a longer, or a fhorter
Sequeftration from Company or Bufinefs. I do not fay this, to blame any one who
takes theſe Courſes before the Sacrament; for fometimes it is neceffary, and fome-
times good and fitting: but that you fhould not think your felf always obliged to
take the fame Courfe; or abftain from the Sacrament, becaufe you have not had
that Time to ſpend in holy Exerciſes. It is a Misfortune that one can give no Rules
that will fit all Chriftians; and that the beſt Rules will hurt fome or other, if clofe-
ly followed. Difcretion is the beſt Director in the World.
Par. Would you have me to come to the Sacrament Fafting, or may I do
otherwife?
Min. If you confider the Inſtitution, nothing of that Kind is neceffary; for it
was inſtituted after Supper. Nor has the Church of England made any Rule about
it. Where therefore neither the Laws of God, nor thoſe of our Superiors, have
obliged us, we muft ufe our Prudence, and do what we find beft. If
you find
that Faſting makes you more Devout and Serious, and gives you a better Frame
of Mind, you will certainly chooſe to go to the Sacrament Fafting. Or if it be
indifferent, and you are much the fame, whether you faft, or not, and find it
makes no Change at all in you, then you will chooſe to faſt in Decency, and with
regard to ancient Practice. But if you have, by Custom, contracted fuch a Habit
of Eating or Drinking fome light Matter every Morning, that you fhould be un-
eafy, or difordered without it, then you will chooſe to do as you used to do; be-
cauſe the purpoſes of Fafting (which are to raiſe the Mind to God, and put it
into a better Frame) are better anſwered by moderate Refreſhment, than by wholly
abſtaining: I do not ſuppoſe that any one makes a full Meal in a Morning, that
is not going to ſtrong Labour, much leſs upon Sunday. And I take the Meaning
of your Queſtion to be, Whether you may eat or drink never fo little, on the
Morning you come to the Sacrament? And to that I fay, that neither God, nor the
Church, has appointed the contrary: But yet I would advise it, where the Incon-
veniency of doing it is none; but not adviſe it, if there be any Inconveniency in
abſtaining. Only Remember, that whether you abftain, or not, you do it without
Scruple your ſelf, and without cenfuring what another Perſon does, though contrary
to what you do. Do in this, and in all other indifferent Cafes, what you believe
will tend moft to your Spiritual Edification your ſelf, without Regard to what other
People do.
Par. Will you give me any particular Directions how to behave my felf during
the Solemnity?
Min. When the Offertory begins, open your Common Prayer Book, and with your
Eye (not Voice) read along with the Minifter, and make what ſhort Application you
can to your felf, of what is read; there you will find you are reminded of being Charita-
ble, in general, to all that ſtand in Need ; and, in particular, of being Just to thoſe who
are your ſpiritual Guides; and giving them at leaſt what the Laws and Cuſtoms of the
Place have allotted them. And if you find you have been wanting either in this Cha-
rity
The Reafonable Communicant.
i gi
rity or Juſtice, you will refolve to make up thofe Defects, for the Time to come; for,
affure your felf, you will be highly unjuft, if you detain from them, what is their
due, both in Law and Confcience, as much as any Debt is due to your felf. When
thefe Sentences are over, then follows the Prayer for the whole Eftate of Chrift's
Church, with which you muſt be fure to join in Heart and Spirit; and never pretend
to uſe any other Prayers or Meditations of your own, or out of any other Book,
whilſt the Minifter is praying the Prayers of the Church; for thefe are the beft and
propereft for the prefent Purpoſe, and you muft join with the Congregation in their
Attention, and fay the Amen with them, that you may reap the Advantage of that
common Fervency, with which thofe Prayers fly up to God. When this Prayer is
done, then follows the Exhortation, (which I have ftill called the Third Exhortation)
to which you muft moſt ſeriouſly attend, for it is full of excellent Information and
Inftruction; it fhews you the great Benefits of coming worthily (i. e. with a true
penitent Heart, and lively Faith) unto this Holy Sacrament: And the great Danger
of coming unworthily, i. e. without repenting of your Sins, and without truſting
in God's Mercies, through Chrift. And pray Remember, that there is no other Senfe
of the Words, worthily and unworthily, than coming with, or without Faith in Chrift,
and fincere Repentance of Sin; and that whoever comes worthily, that is, repenting
truly of his Sins, and believing that God, for Chrift's Sake, will certainly forgive all
fuch as Repent and Leave their Sins---whoever comes thus, comes worthily; and
whoever comes worthily, receives the Benefits of Chrift's Body and Blood, and dwells
in Chrift, and Chrift in him, and is one with Chrift, and Christ with him, whatever
thoſe Phraſes fignify, and whether you underſtand them throughly or no.
And to
your Comfort, moreover, whoever comes worthily, efcapes all thofe Dangers and
Miſchiefs whatſoever they be, that are expreffed by---being guilty of the Body and
Blood of Chrift our Saviour-eating and drinking our own Damnation---not confidering
the Lord's Body---kindling God's Wrath againſt us---and provoking him to plague us
with divers Difeafes, and fundry kinds of Death. Theſe are hard Things all of them,
and ſome of them hard to be underſtood; but, whatever they fignify, however
grievous and hazardous they are, to the Souls and Bodies of Men,---they are all
avoided and eſcaped, by coming worthily, i. e. by Faith in Chrift's Merits, and re-
penting of our Sins. And therefore, if there were a thouſand more fuch terrible
Expreffions, (as I could wish there were fewer than there are) let them not frighten
you, or give you any Trouble. Repent, and believe, and all is well. When this
and the next Exhortation are ended, you come to the Confeffion of Sins, in which
you muſt join with the Miniſter both in Heart and Voice, for you are much
concern'd in it; but when the Abfolution (which is next to it) begins, then
hold your Peace, and attend to the Minifter with all your Heart; the Cuſtom
is, in fome Places, for the People to ſay a ſoft Amen, at the End of every Sen-
tence, and there is nothing indecent in that Practice. But for any one to repeat
the Abfolution, Word for Word, with the Miniſter, is fo abfurd, and fhews fuch
Ignorance, that one would wonder any one ſhould fall into that Practice: Abſo-
lution is the Work of God's Minifter, and belongs to him alone, in God's Name.
The Peoples Part is to be filent, and attend, and to fay nothing but a moft earn-
eſt Amen to that excellent Prayer. And, pray, believe me, once for all, that no-
thing fixes the Attention like Silence; and let me warn you to obferve in all
your Publick Prayers, that you join with the Minifter where you are bid, and at all
other Times be filent; attend and make it your own, by faying a hearty Amen.
The obſerving Order and Decency in Prayers, tends much to Edification; whereas
the contrary begets Diftraction, and difturbs both your felf, and your Neighbours;
it offends devout and underſtanding People mightily, to hear Men and Women fay
their
192
The Reasonable Communicant.
their Prayers abfurdly and indecently, holding their Tongues where they ſhould
fpeak and join, and joining with the Minifter aloud, where they ſhould only hearken,
and fay Amen; but what can be more improper, than to hear them promifcuouſly
abfolve themſelves and one another, and taking the Prieftly Office on them, in a
Part of it, which is one of the moſt diſtinguiſhing he has? When the Abfolution
is over, attend moft diligently to the Sentences of Scripture which the Miniſter is to
read; and when he bids you lift up your Heart to God, you muſt be fure not only
to do it in Word, but in Deed, and great Earneft. When the Prayer of Confe-
cration is over (and not before) you will have ſome Time before the Bread and
Wine are brought to you, which you must employ as well as you can, either
in Prayer, or reading fomething proper to meditate on, on that Occafion; and to
this purpoſe you may
you may furniſh your ſelf out of fome good Book of Devotion. But
be not much diſcouraged if you cannot fill up all that Space with regular Devo-
tion, or with intenſe Meditation; do as well as you can: Remember your own Of-
fences with as much Sorrow as you can; and the Mercies of God to you in Jefus
Chriſt, with as much Love, and Joy, and Gratitude; refolve in earneſt to amend
in what Particulars you find your felf moſt faulty; and aſk of God the Grace and
Power, to put theſe good Refolves in Execution; and that the Merits of this faving
Sacrifice which you are now commemorating, may be extended and applied to
you, in the Forgivenefs of your Sins, and all other Benefits of Chrift's Paffion.
Recommend to God's Mercy your Parents and Relations, Friends, and all the
World: Do any Thing that is good and proper to fill up the Time, and em-
ploy your Thoughts till the Miniſter come to you, to give you the confecrated
Bread and Wine.
·
Par. And then, I fuppofe, you would have me raiſe my Devotion to the higheſt
pitch I can.
my
Min. Yes, I would have you very intent upon what you are about: But take
good heed, left, while you are ſtriving to raiſe your Heart, you be not loſt and
bewildred. Strive rather for a Serious and compofed Mind; let your Devotion be
rather regular and equal, than exalted and transported: Attend gravely to what the
Miniſter fays; and when he has repeated that excellent Prayer---The Body of our
Lord Jefus Chrift, which was given for thee, preferve thy Body and Soul to everlast-
ing Life---be fure you fay foftly a moft hearty Amen. For, is not that the Thing
you come for and defire? When he has faid,---Take, and eat this, in Remembrance
that Chrift died for thee, and feed on him in thy Heart by Faith with Thankſgiving-
take it, and whilſt you are eating it, make fome fuch Prayer as this---Grant, O
Lord, that the Senfe of this thy infinite Mercy, fhewed to Man in fo much Mifery,
may never depart from my Mind! Let me, from henceforth, die to all my Sins, and
corrupt Affections, and live alone to Righteousness and Virtue! I ftedfaftly believe thou
diedft upon the Cross, to fave me from the Guilt and Punishment of Sin, O give me but
the Grace to walk with a thankful, honeſt Heart before thee! Accept of my imperfect
Sorrow and Repentance, imperfect Faith, imperfect Refolutions, and let the precious
Merits of my Lord fupply the Reft, and make up what thou feeft is wanting! When the
Minifter delivers the Cup, and fays---The Blood of our Lord Jefus Chrift, which was
ſhed for thee, preferve thy Body and Soul to everlasting Life---be fure you fay Amen;
for there it is moft proper, and there it was formerly placed. When he has faid
Drink this, in Remembrance that Chrift's Blood was fhed for thee, and be thankful
---take it, and drink very moderately, regarding neither Thirſt nor Pleaſure in that
Draught. And after you have done, you may make fome fuch fhort Prayer, as
you did after the Bread---O let my Soul be washed and cleanfed in the Blood of Jefus,
that was ſhed for me! and let me never be unmindful of this Mercy, but give thee
Thanks,
The Reaſonable Communicant.
193
Thanks, not only with my Lips, but Life, by giving up my ſelf to thỷ Service, and
walking before thee in Holiness and Righteousness all my Days, through Jefus Chrift my
Lord; to whom, with thee, O Father, and the Holy Ghost, be all Honour and Glory,
now and for ever! But let me remind you, that you do not pretend to repeat,
either aloud or foftly, the Words which the Miniſter uſes, in delivering the Bread
and Wine; your Buſineſs is to attend foberly to what he fays, and to ſay Amen.
I tell you this, becauſe an idle Cuſtom has prevailed, of Peoples repeating what
the Prieſt ſays; to the Diſturbance of the Prieft, and to the Hindrance, I dare fay,
of their own Devotion, which would be furthered by a grave and filent Attention.
which I take all Occafions to recommend to you. And that
And that your Mind may be
employed, whilſt the Reft are communicating, you will chooſe to fay fome good
Prayers, or read ſome ſhort Diſcourſe, ſeaſonable and proper; and if that do not
hold out to the End, you may liften to the Miniſter delivering the Bread and
Wine to the Communicants, and fay a hearty Amen to each of them, for that
is praying for the greateſt Bleffing God can beftow upon them---the Prefervation
of their Body and Soul to everlasting Life. And when all have received, and the Mi-
nifter returns to his Prayers, be fure you be not unready to join with him; nay,
though you ſhould not have ended your private Devotions, yet break them off,
though in the middle, and join with the Publick ones, for that is better, and
your Duty; and ſo go on with him, in Heart, till he have made an End. After
which, you will, in a fhort Ejaculation, afk of God the Forgiveneſs of all your
Coldneſs, Wandring, and Indifference, or worfer Thoughts, during the whole Per-
formance; befeeching him to preferve in you, a lively Senſe of his infinite Mer-
cies fhewn to Man in Chrift Jefus, and that you may go home more and more
confirmed in Virtue and holy Refolutions, and abide in his Favour to your Life's
End.
Par. I thank you, Sir, for your Care in thus preparing and conducting me,'
from the beginning of this Solemn Performance to the End of it; and in parti-
cular, for thoſe Hints of Things, that to wifer People may appear little, and
needleſs, but to me, uſeful, orderly, and tending to Edification, if I rightly ob-
ferve them. When all is over, I fuppofe, I fhall return home, mighty well fa-
tisfied, full of Unction, Joy, and holy Confolation, affured of God's Favour, the
Forgiveneſs of my Sins, and everlaſting Happineſs.
Min. It may be not: One may be in God's Favour, without being aſſured of it;
one may have his Sins forgiven, without knowing or believing it; and one may
be (in the Purpoſe of God) everlaſtingly happy in the World to come, and yet
be miſerable and defponding here. Thefe Things, I think, we have already ſpo-
ken to, and agreed in them. In this you may be fully fatisfied, that if you truly
repent you of your Sins, they fhall certainly be forgiven; and you fhall certain-
ly be happy; but that is in the World to come; and whether you ſhall have
the Comfort of believing your Sins forgiven, at fuch a certain Time, at, or after
the Receiving the Sacrament, is not quite fo fure. No fuch Joy, or Confolation is
annexed, by any Promiſe of God, to the worthy Reception of the bleffed Sacra-
ment; the Benefits are indeed fecured by God's Promiſe to the worthy Receiver,
from whence that Joy may reafonably refult; but the Party may, by fome Indif-
pofition of Mind, not be filled with it; and let me now adviſe you, not to expect,
or depend upon any fuch unufual Lightfomneſs or Confolations; but if they follow,
it is well; if not, there is no Harm or Danger in the Want of them. Prepare
your ſelf by true and fincere Repentance, and come with Faith, and as well dif-
poſed as you can, and leave the Reft to God; you will have the Satisfaction of
having done your Duty in the beſt Manner you could, and with that you muſt be
2 F
content,
194
The Reasonable Communicant.
content, for the Reft is not in your Power. I have known many good People dif-
confolate upon this Occafion, by being difappointed of fuch Expectations as their
own warm Imagination had only raiſed in them, without any Reaſon, or Promiſe
made on God's Part. They came away cold and little affected from the Sacrament,
and thought their Hearts muſt have been filled with devout Tranſports; and becauſe
of this, they fell into deep Concern, and believed they had not prepared themſelves
as they ought to have done, although upon examining their Hearts, they could
not justly charge themſelves with any confiderable Omiffions, or Negligence in
that Work. And therefore be not diſcouraged, if you find not that Content and
Pleaſure after your coming from the Sacrament, which you may hope, and wiſh
for before. Go on ſteadily in the Ways of Virtue, and do your Chriſtian Duties
conftantly; and whether you feel the fenfible Warmths and Comforts of Religion
or no, yet you ſhall never want, at length, the juſt Rewards of it; thoſe depend up-
on Uncertainties, theſe upon God's Goodneſs, and Truth, which cannot fail.
may
Par. How oft, Sir, do you think it neceſſary for me to come to the Sacrament?
Min. No body can anſwer that Queſtion better than your felf: You muſt confi-
der where you live, and what Opportunities you. have of doing it, and what Rea-
fons you
ſhall have not to communicate, where you have Opportunity. But be not
however very ſcrupulous in the Matter; do not think you offend God, if you do
not lay hold of every Opportunity offered you, by the Place you live in; nor think
it fufficient, that you Communicate thrice a Year, (as the Law requires) when you
do it every First Sunday in the Month, according to the Cuſtom of the City
where you live. Fail not to obſerve the Law of the Land; and be fure to have
regard to the Cuſtom of the Place; and think upon the Advantages of ferving God,
and coming to this holy Ordinance, and then your Piety and Difcretion will direct
you, how oft you are to communicate; let not little Occafions hinder you, nor
great ones pleaſe you; do not look upon it as a frightful or dangerous Duty, but
éaſy, ſafe, and beneficial. And I give you
And I give you theſe Cautions now, that you may begin
with right Apprehenfions of the Matter; for the firft Impreffions generally laft,
and People go on and End, much as they enter on this Duty.
Par. I thank you, Sir, for this Warning, and good Advice, which I will make
the beſt Uſe I can of: But I wonder much to hear you tell me, that this is not
a frightful and hazardous Duty, when the Communion Service is ſo full of dread-
ful and amazing Threatnings, that I have known both underſtanding and religious
People much difcouraged and perplexed by them. We are told in the fecond
Exhortation, that the Danger is great, if we Receive unworthily, even eating and
drinking our own Damnation. And in the firſt -- that to come unworthily, is but
thereby to increase our Damnation--and, that the Devil will enter into us, and fill
us full of Iniquities, and bring us to Destruction both of Body and Soul. There is
hardly any Thing able to ſupport a Man's Spirit under fuch Apprehenfions. I fup-
poſe theſe Things are all of them exactly true, and not Exaggerations: And if
they be, I leave you to confider, whether a Man may not as well venture not to
come to the Sacrament, as venture the Hazards of coming unworthily, and thereby
increaſe his Damnation.
Min. Remember (what I have obferved before) that to come unworthily, is to
come without any Repentance or Sorrow for paſt Offences, and without any Re-
folutions of Amendment for the Future. And fuch a coming as this, muft ne-
ceffarily increaſe a Man's Damnation, becauſe he does apparently defpife his Savi-
our, and infult his Holy Ordinance; the whole Deſign of which, and almoſt every
Word of which, fuppofes Sorrow for his Sins paft, and purpoſes of Amendment
for the Time to come. It is like a Jew's coming to be baptized, who hates
Chriſtianity
1
The Reafonable Communicant.
195
i
i
Chriſtianity in His Heart, and intends to affront that Sacrament, but comes to
ferve fome fecular Intereft and End: Or if he comes not with Contempt and Ma-
lice, yet he makes a moft folemn Profeffion of a great many Promiſes, none of
which he has any defign of keeping. Now fuch a one muſt certainly be in a worſe
Condition, than if he had never been baptized, and his Baptifm muſt certainly in-
creaſe his Damnation. And muſt it not be the fame, with thoſe who come to the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and there pretend moft folemnly to repent and be
forry for their Sins paft, and to vow all holy Obedience for the future, and yet do
neither, but purpofe to continue in their grievous Sins? Or if they do not pofitively
purpoſe to continue in their Sins, yet have no Intention to leave them. Such coming
muſt unavoidably increaſe Damnation, becauſe here is a new and moſt provoking
Sin, of mocking Chriſt's Ordinance, added to his old Impenitence. But, truly, I
believe, as well as hope, that not one Sinner in à hundred thoufand comes to the
Sacrament without a general Repentance, and ſome fort of Reſolution of forfaking his
Sins, though it be faint, and loofe, and ineffectual. And of fuch, I know not how to
conclude that they thereby increaſe their Damnation, any otherwife than they, who,
without coming to the Sacrament, make fuch kind of Refolutions frequently, and yet
forget and break them, may be faid alfo to increaſe their Damnation; fince every
new Sin does certainly add to our Mifery, and more and more endanger our Souls.
I will therefore yield to you, that to come unworthily, is a greater Venture, than to ſtay
away; if by Unworthily, you mean a pofitive Intention not to leave your Sins, but
ſtill to continue in them. But if by Unworthily you mean fuch a Repentance, and
Reſolution of leaving Sin, as though when it is made, is hearty and fincere, yet
afterwards proves ineffectual, then I will not yield, that to come Unworthily is more
dangerous than to ſtay away; becauſe the breaking a good Refolution (not intend-
ed to be broken when it is made) is not a greater Offence, than not to make that
Refolution, although you were obliged to make it. Caius, a great Squanderer, owed
me a hundred Crowns, and upon my Demand, promiſed to pay that Sum at fix
Months End, according to his Obligation; the Day came, but not my Debtor; for
though when he made that Promiſe, he was in great earneſt, and ſeriouſly intend-
ed to take up, and diſcharge himſelf, yet he fell into his old loofe Courſes, and
was thereby diſabled from approving himſelf an honeft Man. Titius, another
Squanderer as great as he, owed me the like Sum, under the like Obligation, but
when I called upon him, made me no Anfwer, affirming afterwards that he
would not Promife, becauſe he intended not to leave his ill Courfes, which would
certainly diſable him from paying his Debt. Am I more obliged to Titius, for
not promifing, becauſe he intended not to perform, than to Caius for promif
ing, and intending to perform? Do I owe him more Favour, who refuſes to pro-
mife what he is in Reafon obliged to promife, and in Juftice to perform; than I
owe to him, who promifes in good Earneft, and intends at that Time to per-
form, though afterwards he forgets and fails? Put thefe two Men under equal Obli-
gations, and equal Abilities of difcharging them, and you will fee, to which of
them moſt Kindneſs is owing from the Creditor. To promife, with a purpoſe of
not paying, is to deceive me, and abuſe me; and to promife with a purpoſe of
paying, though he do not Pay, is only to difappoint me. I fay, therefore, (to
make a fhort Application) that to come to the Sacrament, with a general Sorrow
and Concern for Sins paft, and a general Refolution to live better for the Time
to come, although Men afterwards fall into Sin again, and forget their good Refo-
lutions, is not a worfe and more hazardous Thing, than to ftay away from the
Sacrament, without any Repentance at all of paft Sins, or any Refolutions of li-
ving better, but going on ftill in their old Courfe of Wickedness. If it were, in-
deed,
1
196
The Reaſonable Communicant.
་
}
deed, a voluntary Thing, and left at Peoples Liberty, whether they would come
to the Sacrament, or ftay away, then it were fafer not to come: But fince it is
a Duty laid upon Men by Chrift's Command, and all Men are obliged to come,
by Virtue of the Obedience they owe to their Saviour, I can fee no Safety in re-
fufing to come; and this refufing to qualify themſelves and come, muft as certainly
increaſe their Damnation, as coming lefs qualified than they ought to be. I
would not encourage any one to come Unworthily, i. e. without Repentance, with-
out Faith, and without Charity; for certainly fuch coming muſt be hazardous.
But I can fee as much Hazard in diſobeying Chrift, in refufing to come as he
Commands, becauſe Men live (and ſtill reſolve to live) without Repentance, with-
out Refolutions of Amendment, without Faith, and without Charity. In a Word,
there is no Safety but in Repentance and Obedience, both of which, by the Grace
of God, are in every Chriſtian's Power. And to that Grace I leave you, befeeching
him who is the Author of that, and every other good and perfect Gift, to beſtow
them, in ſuch Meaſure, on us all, that we may moſt religiouſly diſcharge both
this, and every other Chriſtian Duty, in the Manner that we ought, to the Glory
of his Great Name, and the Salvation of all our Souls in the Day of our Lord
Jefus.
A SERMON
*
197
A
SERMON
Preached September the 7th, 1704, being the Day ap-
pointed for the Thankſgiving.
I
TO THE
READER.
T is fomewhat ftrange, that I, who have been forward enough to fubmit to
the Orders of my Superiors, and comply with the Requeſts of my Friends, in
publishing many Sermons, fhould now be constrained to publish one against my
Will, without Command, and without Requeft. But ſo it is, that a certain Perfon,
(unknown to me) who took this Sermon from my Mouth, in Characters, must needs
think himself obliged to print it, without my Confent; and was refolved, it feems, to do
fo, if I would not take care of it my felf. He had, indeed, Honefty enough, to give me
Notice (by another Hand) of his Intentions; but not enough to keep him from inva-
ding his Neighbour's Right; which I must needs blame in him, though I have Reafon to
think his Purpoſe proceeded from no ill Principle, or Difrefpect to me. It is to this
fecret Violence I give this Sermon up; and rather chufe to publish it from the Original,
than let it come from a Copy which cannot poffibly be perfect; thinking it much bet-
ter to prevent Miſtakes, than to be at the Pains to correct them afterwards; though
very much dislike the being under a Neceffity of doing either.
I
1 KINGS xx. 11.
Tell him, Let not him that girdeth on his Harness, boast himself,
as he that putteth it off.
T
HESE Words contain the wife Reply which the King of Ifrael made
to the moſt infolent and unreaſonable Demands of Benhadad the King
of Syria: That Prince had beſieged Samaria, and reduced it to great
Straits; and having fent his Meffengers (upon Ahab's Defire, we may well
prefume) to agree upon the Terms either of Peace, or of Surrender, they told him,
that his Gold and Silver, his Wives and Children, even the goodlieft of them, fhould
be at the Diſpoſal of the King of Syria. The King of Ifrael not knowing how
to help himſelf, ſent him a civil and fubmiffive Anſwer, that all he had ſhould
be at his Difpofal, and fignified he would become tributary to him, and hold, as
it were, all he had from him. This Eafinefs and tame Submiffion of Ahab, did
but provoke the Syrian King to greater Infolence; and by his next Meſſenger, he
demanded Things abundantly more extravagant and hard than at firft. Then, it
feems, he would not be content with the King's Treaſure, but would fend his
2 G
Servants,
198
A Sermon preached September 7, 1704,
Servants, and rifle the whole City of whatever he found ſhould pleaſe him in it;
Upon this, Ahab adviſes with his Elders and Counſellors (who were now concern-
ed as much as he) what to do in this Extremity; for now it is plain, the Syrian
fought not for Sovereignty alone, but intended their utter Ruin and Deftruction.
His Council adviſed him unanimouſly, not to hearken to any fuch unreaſonable,
extravagant Demands, but rather venture all that could happen, fince worfe than
what was aſked could hardly happen to them. Upon which Advice, the King
takes Heart, and fends the Syrian Word, that what he had first engaged for, he
would ſtill make good, but he could go no farther. Upon which Benhadad fent
again to him this proud imperious Menace, The Gods do fo to me, and more alſo,
if the Duft of Samaria fhall fuffice for Handfuls, for all the People that follow me.
He threatens him, that though Samaria were a large City, yet ſhould it not be
able to afford a handful of Duſt to every one of his Soldiers, he would bring ſo many
up againſt him. To which the King of Ifrael anfwers only in this wiſe Maxim,
or Proverbial Speech, Tell him, I fay, Let not him that girdeth on his Harness,
boaft himself, as he that putteth it off. Tell him from me, the Iffue of War is very
uncertain; it is Time enough to boaſt, when that appears fuccefsful: There is
many a one girds on his Armour in great Gaiety and Pride, that has it pull'd off
by his Enemy to make a Trophy of. It is good to kill the Beaft, before we part
his Skin; the Booty muſt be taken long before it is divided; bid him be wife, and
fee the End of Things, before he threaten fuch Destruction; he that puts off his
Harneſs, is affured of Victory, whilft he who puts in on, has many Things to
fear. This is the Meaning of the King of Ifrael's Anfwer; and in it, as it was
occafioned, there are theſe Things obfervable to our Advantage. First, That great
Power and Command makes Men ufually infolent in their Behaviour, boundleſs in
their Defires, and very extravagant in their Demands. But, Secondly, That a
wife Man, who ſeriouſly confiders what the Event of Things may eaſily be, by
the great Variety of Accidents not forefeen, or not to be prevented, will mode-
rate his Defires, purfue Ends that are reafonable, and live in Juftice, whatever
Hopes of Succeſs his preſent Advantages may give him.
Firſt, Great Power and Command makes Men ufually infolent in their Beha-
viour, unreaſonable in their Deſires, and extravagant in their Demands. All Men
have it in their Will to govern, and be abfolute; few confider the true Uſe of
Power, or uſe it rightly when they have it. The true End of Power, is to ob-
tain their Will; but then their Will is evermore to intend fome general good, or
fomething that is good for themſelves, but by no means inconfiftent with the Ge-
neral one: And therefore, when more (who fhould be benefited) are prejudiced
by any particular Exerciſe of Power, than are benefited by it, it is manifeft that
Power is there abuſed. There is no Man living can be vefted with a rightful
Power of doing Injury and Miſchief; it is contrary to the very End and Nature
of it; for all Power is of God, and he himſelf has none of doing wrong. The
moſt arbitrary Prince in the World, is as unjuſt when he exerciſes his Power to the
Prejudice of his Subjects, as the moſt limited one, when he tranfgreffes exprefs
Laws made for their Security: For the good of Subjects is as much intended and
ſuppoſed in arbitrary, as in limited Governments; only the Means of Redreſs are
not the ſame, but differ according to their Conſtitutions. The Subjects have tied
themſelves not to withstand the Power that is certainly exerciſed to their Mif-
chief in one caſe; but the Prince is nevertheleſs faulty, though unaccountable:
The End of Government, is the Good of Mankind, and that is the Obligation of
all Rulers; and whoever diſcharges not that, offends againſt both God and Man,
though God alone may punish him. An Exemption from Puniſhment, does not
alter
being the Day appointed for the Thankſgiving.
199
alter the Nature of Offences. A Prince may be as great a Tyrant in Turky as in
England, though the one governs by his Will, and the other by known Laws; be-
caufe the End of both Governments is the fame, namely; their Good: And Laws
are but as fo many particular Determinations of People, to procure the Publick Good
by fuch and fuch Means; which, in arbitrary Governments, is left to the Will of
- their Princess and whom they pleaſe to ufe. So that it is manifeft, there neither
is, nor can be, any Power committed to any Man, but what is intended for the
Publick Good, and ſuppoſes that will follow.
But be the End of Power what it will, and never fo good, we fee by Obfervation
and Experience, the more uncontrouled Power any Prince has, the more Mifchief
he generally does with it; the worfer he uses his own People, the readier he is
to injure and infult his Neighbours: So that the Abuſe of Power is almoſt as na-
tural as the Defire of it; there being very few that look beyond themſelves, and
the Gratifications of their own Defires; accounting that to be the Publick Good
which they aint at, and own publickly, though never fo deſtructive of it.
But the Mifchief refts not at home; it were well enough if they alone; who are
unhappily fubjected to this lawleſs Government, were miſerable by themſelves, and
wore the Bonds they tamely chofe to put upon their own Arms: But it fpreads
like Infection, and is the Caufe of all its Neighbours Mifchiefs; it makes War cheap,
which is the Parent of all Evils. It is in the Hands of à Man that is Cholerick,
Proud, and Haughty, Covetous, or Ambitious, under the Dominion of one, or
many, fooliſh or wicked Paffions; it is in this Man's Hands to raiſe Armies,
and maintain them as long as he pleafes; it is in his Power to opprefs, pillage,
and rob his own Subjects, in order to the oppreffing, pillaging, and ruining of thofe,
whom either his vain Ambition, Cruelty, or Revenge, has made him call his Ene-
mies. This is one of the faddeft Effects of Arbitrary Power, that it makes War
cheap, and reſolves it eaſily into the Determination of every Paffion a weak or
wicked Prince may be fubject to; it puts it into his Power to diſturb his own
Country, and every one's elfe befides; for if he were not abfolute at Home, he
could do no great Miſchief Abroad. It is not certain, that the growing abfolute
of one Prince, would juftify another Prince's making War upon him to prevent it;
but it is certain that Nine in Ten of the Occafions of Princes warring with one
another, are not fo truly reaſonable as this. It is more fufpicious, and more hazar-
dous, than building either new Forts, or Store of new Ships, or raifing new Armies;
he has it in his Power to do what Miſchief a whole Nation is capable of doing.
And this is one of the Excellencies of our own Government, that though for
wife and good Reafons, the Power of making War and Peace is put into our
Prince's Hands; yet they can neither be lafting, nor of great Moment, unleſs the
Wiſdom of our Nation find them uſeful and neceffary; by which Means, we are
neither arbitrarily to be oppreffed at Home, nor eafily brought to make unjuſt Wars
Abroad, to fupport Ambition, Vain-glory, Revenge, or Cruelty; none of which
Miſchiefs are to be avoided under Arbitrary Governments, where the Will of one
determines all
There is nothing to be faid to all this, but that Arbitrary Princes have Reaſon
and Underſtanding like other Men, and that it is their Intereſt to have their Sub-
jects Rich, and to ſpare their Lives; and therefore, that without Neceffity, they will
neither deprive them of their Wealth, nor throw away their Lives cheaply. And
to this, the Experience of the whole World to the contrary, oppofes itfelf; there
being nothing plainer, than that they are extravagantly lavish both of the Lives
and Fortunes of their Subjects. They never care to have their People Rich, (as
Riches make them happy, and live eafily) but that they may be enriched with their
Spoils,
200
A Sermon preached September 7, 1704,
Spoils, whenever there is occafion. And in all fuch Countries, it is almoſt as dan-
gerous to be very Rich, as to practiſe againſt the Government, and frequently as
fatal; it has coft many a Man his Life in the Eaft. And let a Man in France, that
neither retains to Court or Camp, be known to be wealthy, and he fhall quickly
be conſtrained either to lend, or give, till he be brought to the Size of other Peo-
ple. Whereas with Us, a Man may be known to abound in Money, Goods, and
Eſtate, to the greateſt degree, and fare no worſe than the poorest Man in all the
Neighbourhood, in his Proportion: We have no fuch Thing as giving or lending
against our Will, which is a great, but juſt Piece of Liberty. In a Word, all the
Advantages of Arbitrary Government, may be numbered up in a fhort Line; but all
the World can ſcarcely hold its Miſchiefs. It is this that impoverishes its own
Country, and troubles the Peace of its Neighbours; to this we owe fo many unjuſt
Invafions, Defolations of Kingdoms, and all the Barbarities of War, that fill the
World with fo much Miſery and Miſchief.
When a Prince finds himſelf obliged (as in all limited mixt Governments it is)
to live by the Rules of Honour and true Juftice, to advife with Men difintereſted,
and difpaffionate, in all Affairs of Moment, and tied to govern by known Laws
(the happieſt Force a Man can poffibly be under) he quickly fees his Intereſt lies
at Home, to make himſelf and People happy; and is under no Temptation of un-
neceffary Wars, either to employ his bold and active Spirits that might otherwiſe
diſturb his Reign, or turn his Subjects Eyes from marking his Miſcarriages at Home;
for he who governs righteouſly and legally, has nothing to fear from his People.
But when a Prince is entirely at Liberty; confults his own Inclinations only, or
with fuch Counſellors alone as know them well, but dare not diſapprove them;
has no regard to Juſtice or Honour, but thinks himſelf the Rule and Standard of
both, and ſees his Subjects Lives and Fortunes at his Foot ---- every Paffion this Man
has, (it is evident) may ſtand for Reaſon, raiſe Taxes, and ſend out Armies, when
and where-ever thoſe blind Guides direct them.
I account my felf never out of the Way, when I am ſpeaking againſt a Go-
vernment that is only to be trufted in the Hands of God Almighty, whoſe infinite
Goodneſs, unerring Juſtice, and all-ſeeing Wiſdom, make him incapable of inju-
ring any of his Creatures; but which, in Man's Hands, is fruitful of a Million of
Diſorders, Miſchiefs, and all fort of Evils; and which has troubled us, and all Eu-
rope, for a great while; and hath, at the Bottom, occafioned all the Expence of
Treaſure and Blood we have been at for more than Forty Years, either in affiſt-
ing our Neighbours, or defending our felves.
Whilft France was governed by its Kings and Parliaments (as ours) it was as quiet
and inoffenfive a Neighbour as any other; but when it loft its Liberties, and came
entirely into the Diſpoſal of its Princes, it became juſt as troubleſome and vexati-
ous to its Neighbours, as the Humour of its Princes pleaſed to make it; and has
ever fince been inftrumental only to Blood and Rapine; a formidable Power, fent
out to execute the Orders of whatever evil Paffion governs its Prince; fometimes
to conquer Countries, to which he vowed with all Solemnity before God in Hea-
ven, and God (he thought) upon the Altar; before all Saints, and in the Face of
all the Courts of Juſtice, that he would make no Claim, but renounced all Right
he ever might have had to them; and ſometimes to chaſtiſe a whole offenceleſs
Country for fome imaginary Affront, or for retarding him in his Race of Glory;
fometimes to ruin more than a Million of his own People, becauſe they could not
fee with his Eyes, and underſtand with his Underſtanding, in Matters of everlaſting
Confequence, and where the Example of all the Kings of the World will juſtify
no Man's Error. Theſe, and all other his Attempts, as well as that at preſent, are
owing
being the Day appointed for the Thankſgiving.
201
;
owing purely to that boundleſs Power he finds he exerciſes fafely among his own
People; for were the Government lodged in any other Hands that were to deter-
mine theſe great Matters, it were utterly impoffible that fo much Miſery ſhould
be endured at Home, or fo much Miſchief done Abroad. No Ten wife Men in
all that Kingdom, were they at their Liberty, would either adviſe, or affiſt ſuch
Enterprizes, as empty all their Treaſures, and deſtroy the Lives of fo many good
Subjects continually, for nothing but to gratify the Ambition, or the Revenge of
their Monarch; it is all the Effect of Arbitrary, uncontrouled Power, unhappily
placed in the Hands of a vain Man, and nouriſhed by a Train of unaccountable
Succeffes. This is the Parent of that Infolence with which he treats the World
of thoſe extravagant Demands he makes; and of thofe unbounded Defires with
which he purſues the Enlargement of his Dominion. And this I was led to ſpeak
to, from the Example of that haughty and vain-glorious Prince concerned in the
Text, whoſe Power exalted him to Infolence and Madneſs; and made him de-
mand Submiffion fo extravagant and fenfelefs, as turned to his Deſtruction: And
I the rather choſe to infift upon the Miſchiefs of this fort of Government, that
we might fee, and better taſte the Happineſs of our own, and be more thankful to
God for it, and the more careful to preſerve it in that due Temperament in which
it ſtands; without endeavouring to exalt, or to abaſe the Princely Power, by which
our Governour may neither be (according to the Fable) a Stork, nor yet a Log, i. e.
may neither be uſeleſs by too little Power, nor miſchievous by too much; the
Extream into which almoſt all the Kingdoms of Europe have fallen, befides our
felves.
Let us now ſee, in the Second Place, to the other Thing, which is fo obfervable
from the Hiſtory, and the Anſwer which the King of Ifrael made to Benhadad;
and that is, That a wife Man who ſeriouſly confiders what the Event of Things
may eaſily be, by the great Variety of Accidents, not forefeen, or not to be pre-
vented, will moderate his Defires, purſue Ends that are reaſonable, and live in Juf-
tice, whatever Hopes his Advantages may at preſent give him.
They who have lived in the World to any Years of Obfervation, muſt needs per-
ceive, (and feel in part) that all Things in it are ſubject to Viciffitude and Change;
that there is fuch Uncertainty in them, that one can intend and defign nothing
future, without foreſeeing a great many Accidents that may defeat our Expectation,
and apprehending many more; that as foon as we have formed any Project, though
never ſo juſt and honeft, our very next Thought is employed, in trying to prevent
a Diſappointment; and that no Care, no Wiſdom is fufficient to fecure our End,
but there will ariſe more than a Probability of our miſcarrying: And therefore,
that all a Man can do in this World, is, to intend Things juft and fitting, honeſt,
and creditable, and to pitch on Means that are in Reaſon right and
proper, and
leave the Iffue in the Hands of God; for, what it ſhall be, no Man living can An-
fwer. We muft indeed intend a certain Iffue, and reaſonable Agents cannot well
do otherwiſe; but a certain Iffue is not in our Power; we are therefore only tỏ
take care, that we neither pitch upon fuch an End, nor try to compaſs it by fuch
Means, as, upon a Diſappointment, will either give us Shame or Grief; our Virtue
fhall not be queftioned for our Defign, nor our Diſcretion for the Ways we took to
bring it about. This is all we have to do, and all that we can do; and whoever
does not this, will be always blamed both by himfelf, and all others.
The only Temptation to forego this cautious, wife and juſt Way of proceeding,
is, that Men now and then fucceed in their moſt unjuſt Enterprizes, and then nei-
ther value nor think of Accidents, Uncertainties, or Change, or Chance: This is
fure, but this is not Ground enough for any wiſe Man's Venture, A Man muſt
2 H
take
202
A Sermon preached September 7, 1704,
take the whole of Things together, to meaſure his Wiſdom or Happineſs by; a Man
may draw blindfold, the Lot he would have chofen with both his Eyes and Un-
derſtanding; but then he owes it to Chance, and values not his Wifdom or Choice
in the Purchaſe, and knows, moreover, that a Lottery is one of the unlikelieft
Ways in the World of growing Rich.
Succeſs indeed in one bad Enterprize, is a Temptation to another; but a Temp-
tation is feldom a good Reaſon, eſpecially if that Succefs itfelf was accidental, as
it uſually is; and I am now ſpeaking of what a Man fhould do, who Reaſons
and Conſiders; and there, I fay, that nothing but what is Juft and Right, ſhould
be depended on; becauſe there are more Difappointments than Succeffes happen to
any Man, and every Man is to provide for what is most likely to befal him.
Now, as War is one of the moſt complicated Affairs in the World, and takes in
the Confideration of an Infinity of Particulars, and confequently muft depend upon
numberless Uncertainties and Accidents; fo it ought to be undertaken with the
greateſt Deliberation, and managed with the greateſt Circumfpection; its Succeffes
are to be uſed with the greateft Moderation and Humanity: its Loffes born with
the greateſt Fortitude and Patience.
Fortune, that governed all, according to the Heathens, was reprefented blind;
and Victory had Wings; and though fome Generals chained her to their Chariots,
yet this was in Picture only, and done with great Vanity; for fhe was never,
willing or unwilling, ftedfaft always to any one Side, but fluttered up and down
with great Uncertainty. We Chriftians know of no fuch Things as Chance and
Fortune; but know that God above governs the World, and difpofes well of all
Events: But Providence, i. e. his way of ordering and difpofing them, ſeems to
us fo varying and uncertain, i. e. we know fo little of it, that for want of a more
proper Name, we call it Chance and Fortune; but we only mean thereby, to fet
forth our own Ignorance of God's Difpofal of Affairs. But, however, the fame
Uncertainty and Inftability of all Things appearing by the Events to us, as did to
them, we are to make the fame ufe that they intended by thofe Emblems; which
was, That People fhould neither wax infolent under Succefs, nor yet Defpair under
Lofs and Diſappointment, fince all Things were fo fubject to change, and might
confequently change from bad to good, as from good to bad. It was a very wife
Saying, and frequently in the Mouth of our late King, That Campaigns do not al-
ways end as they begin. The Obfervation of which kept him fill in good Temper,
neither haughty nor defponding; neither apt to refufe good Terms, nor afk un-
reaſonable ones: A thing fo common, that one may fay, Succefs has hurt more
than it has profited, by elating fo the Mind, that it has overlooked all Reafon; and
by extravagant Demands, has loft its true Advantages, and thrown the Adverſary
upon other Meaſures: For he who demands Things unreaſonable, teaches Men to
deny what might be fit to grant; as he who denies Things reafonable, teaches Men
to afk Things that were not fo before. We need not go out of our own Memory
for Examples of both thefe kinds.
The Turks, not many Years ago, upon the great Succeffes of the German Empe-
ror, proffered fuch Terms of Peace as were exceeding honourable and advantageous
to the Chriſtians; but Succefs had fo exalted them, that they would none of them,
but on Conditions that could not, they knew, be complied with: The following
Campaigns taught them better, and they were glad of Peace upon much worfe
Terms, the Lofs of a very great City, and a great Tract of Country round it, which
they might otherwiſe have kept. It is fit that every thing infulting and unreafon-
able ſhould be ſo ſerved, and that they who are blinded by their good Fortune,
ſhould alſo be miſled by her; and taught to be more wife and moderate by Loís,
and
being the Day appointed for the Thankſgiving.
203
and by Repentance. He who aſks an unreaſonable Rent (to mix fmall Things with
great) for his Houſe, will have it, you know, ſtand ſo much longer empty, which
ufually brings the Matter, though not the Man, to Reaſon.
The other Inſtance is of a Prince, with whom we are just now concerned, who
having Offers made, both ſafe, and honourable, and advantageous, is, by refuſing
them, to all Appearance ruined, at leaſt for fome Years; and (which is worſe by a
great deal) has already ruined moft of his People and Country; though I confefs,
ſuch ſtrange Overfights look rather like juft Infatuations, than the Effects of bare
Inconfiderateneſs; for what can be more reaſonable, than that they who prefer a
private Humour, or a private Intereſt, to the publick Good of their Country, fhould
fuffer all Extremities; but, if it could be, by themſelves? Though now, unhappily,
the Country fuffers more than he; which, were it poffible to be avoided, ſhould.
But that is the Unhappineſs of all Relations, they muſt be puniſhed for another's
Sake, in hopes that the Concern for them, will reftrain Men from fuch Actions
as will bring Miſchief (they know) on thoſe whom they are bound to love, and
look after, and preſerve from all Evil; and the Relation betwixt a Prince and his
Country, being the fame with that of Huſband and Wife, or Father and Children,
the one is intended to be puniſhed in the Afflictions of the other. But (to return)
both theſe Princes, the one in making extravagant Demands, the other in refufing
very fair and reaſonable ones, feem to have little Thought upon, or to have quite
forgotten the Uncertainties of War, and the many little Accidents on which the
Succeſs of Battels depends.
And thus it was with Benhadad, the King of Syria; he had reduced the King
of Ifrael to extremity, and offered him then very hard Terms, which yet were
accepted; but then his Infolence and Madneſs would impofe much harder, and
that reduced him to Defpair; and that Defpair excited more Courage and Refolution,
than any thing reaſonable could do; and God came in, and interpofed, and curbed
the Extravagance of that haughty Prince, and brought him to intercede with
the deſpiſed Adverſary, even for his Life. And then, I fuppofe, he faw the Wif-
dom of King Ahab's Caution, Let not him that girdeth on his Armour, boaſt him-
ſelf as he who putteth it off. A great many Accidents happen betwixt the girding
on, and the putting off a Man's Armour; fometimes he is forced to fly away with
fometimes he is wounded in it; fometimes he is ftripped of it whilst living;
and fometimes dead, and never fees it put off. This is but the Figure, but the
Meaning in general is, (as we have ſeen) that they who begin War, know not
where it will end, and therefore fhould be cautious how they enter, and know
when to put up the Sword in Time, and not be betrayed by a little Succefs to
carry Things on unreaſonably.
it;
We have ſeen, in our Time, (we have feen indeed nothing elfe but) a great
King's Ambition troubling the Peace of all the World, for more than forty Years;
tempted by a moft difaftrous Conjunction of weak, voluptuous, and ill-governed
Princes, his Contemporaries, to raiſe what Armies, and to fend them where-ever
he pleaſed; invading, wafting, and infulting all who were unhappily within his
Reach; infomuch that the whole Chriſtian World, who had for five or fix hun-
dred Years reckoned, and called the Turk the Common Enemy, have of long Time,
with one Confent, tranflated that abhorred Title to Him. And after all, what are
the Fruits of this Perfidy and Violence? So ill a Fame was never gotten for fo
fmall Advantages. What are the Acceffions made to France, that are equal to ſuch
an immenſe Treafure, and fuch a Multitude of his Subjects Lives, as they have
coft him? I think no Hiſtory can readily afford us fuch another Inftance; That a
Prince who was abfolute Maſter of one of the fineſt Kingdoms in the Earth, and
had
204
A Sermon preached September 7, 1704,
had a People fo active, and fo flaviſhly fubmiffive to all his Orders; who hath raiſed
fuch numerous Armies, which have fought fo many Battels, taken fo many Towns,
and waſted ſo many Countries, fhould at laſt have fo little to fhew for it: He
has, like Creatures of voracious Appetite, but ill Digeftion, ſwallowed down much,
but been conſtrained to give it up again. The Emperor, with all his Poverty
and Weakneſs, hath kept five times more Country and Advantages than he, within
the Compaſs of twenty Years; and might have had much more, had he (as I ob-
ferved before) but been more reaſonable in his Demands; and might moreover
have had what he has, without any Danger or Difturbance, had he but learned that
Leffon that is, it feems, fo hard for Princes to learn, (though Reafon, Intereft,
and Conſcience, teach them nothing elfe) namely, to love his People, and leave
them to their juft and ancient Liberties. I cannot think, but that both Friends
and Enemies are equally to be blamed, whofe Subjects live miferably; and I fee an
Inftance alfo here, of what I have before remarked, that they who with-hold and
deny Things reaſonable, put People in the Way of afking Things unreaſonable;
which feems at preſent the Cafe of the Hungarians, with refpect to their Sove-
reign. But this a little by the Way; when I was feeking what were the vifi-
ble Fruits of fuch a long continued Violence of War, as France hath exerciſed
on all her Neighbours; and he who looks into a Map, may quickly fee that every
Foot of Ground hath coft him moft extravagantly dear; it hath coft him the
Impoverishment of his own Kingdom, as well by the Extirpation of a Million at
leaſt of his Proteftant Subjects, as by the Death of fome Hundreds of Thouſands
of his Soldiers; and hath raiſed him up the Enmity and Hatred of all the World
about him; and the End is not yet: He hath not yet put off his Armour, he hath
occafion ſtill to think of Ahab's Maxim in the Text; his Lands require its Tillers;
his Vines their Pruners; and his Trade calls for thoſe labouring Hands that are now
wafting in unprofitable and deftructive Wars.
Let them call this Country Happy, and this Government Good, who meaſure out
a Country's Happineſs by the Splendor of a luxurious Court, the Gliftrings of the
Soldiery, and the Equipage of fome great State Officers, who are, it may be, not
one to five Thouſand of thoſe who live moft miferably and poorly. Strange
Happineſs to us, who think a Kingdom's Happiness confifts in the Happineſs of
Prince and People both together.
This great Oppreffor both of his own, and other People, has at length, it ſeems,
obtained the End he always fought for, the Poffeffion of the Spanish Government.
But is that Peaceable, or like to be fo? Has is not raiſed him ſuch an Oppofition,
that he knows not what to do withal? Were it, in Truth, as much the Intereſt of
the World, to be revenged on Spain, for its ſo pitiful and vile Submiffion to its
Yoak, as it is to ſecure itſelf againſt the Tyranny of France, nothing could be
better done, than leaving that wretched People to enjoy their New Masters; but as
it is, Intereſt, Honour, and Security of themſelves, have raiſed him as many Ene-
mies as the Conjunction of thoſe two Monarchies can make; and what will be
the Iffue, no Man living can certainly tell; but in all likelihood, this unreaſonable
Grafp, which fills his Hands too full, will make his Hold leſs fure by a great deal;
fo that that which he thinks the Crown of all his Labour, is likely enough to weigh
him down, and to compleat his Ruin. And the great Succefs with which it hath
pleaſed God to bleſs his Enemies, (and which occaſions our affembling here at this
Time) is a moft promiſing Preſage, that the Day of his Humiliation is at hand:
He never had ſo much to do, with ſo little Ability of doing it, fince he began
to trouble Europe; nor has he ever received fo great a Blow as now, when he is
leſs than ever able to bear it. If that good Spirit, Unity, and Conduct, that has
lately
being the Day appointed for the Thankſgiving.
205
lately appeared, go on with us a little farther, the oldeft of us all may live to fee
the Foundations of fuch a Peace and Security laid, that it fhall not be in the Power
of this ambitious Prince to difturb it.
He hath loft (by utterly undoing him) the only Prince that could be brought to
fight under his Banners; his Friendſhip is as fatal as his Enmity; and that, I hope,
will be a lafting Fruit of this great Victory, that all the Princes of the World will
open their Eyes upon the fad Examples his deftructive Alliance has lately made, and
let him fight his unjuſt Battels by himſelf. One may very well apply on this Oc-
cafion, the Meffage of the King of Affyria to the King of Judah, to thofe undone
Princes, who have unhappily joyned Hands with, and depended on the Power of
France. What Confidence is this wherein thou truſteſt? Thou fayeft (but they are but
vain Words) I have Counsel and Strength for the War. Now on whom doft thou truft?
Behold thou truſteſt upon the Staff of this bruised Reed, even upon Egypt, on which if
a Man lean, it will go into his Hand, and pierce it; jo is Pharaoh, King of Egypt, to
all that truft on him. I believe it is as plain to all confidering People, that he was
the Ruin of our late unhappy King, as it is viſible to Men that have their Senfes, that
he has now ruined the Two Electoral Brothers, though not by the fame Methods,
yet by the Confequences of a like Alliance, Conjunction and Friendſhip with him.
Some are dazzled with the Luftre of that Power that ruling by an Army gives,
and like the Example ftrangely; others are caught by the Profufion of that Wealth
that arbitrary Princes only can afford, becauſe they feel not, or regard not the Mi-
ſery of their People, whoſe Lives and Labours muſt ſupply that Bounty. But fuch
Examples ſhould, methinks, have fome Inftruction alfo in them; and the Conclu-
fion make the laſt Impreffion on the Mind, and what that is, the whole World fees,
and wonders at: Three Examples in one Reign, one may well hope, will be all.
If I have fhewn, that arbitrary Power has been the curfed Root, from whence
moſt of the Wars that have afflicted Europe during our Time, have ſprung; by
enabling a Prince of unmeaſurable Ambition, to raiſe what Armies he thought fit,
and to maintain them, by laying what exorbitant Taxes he thought fit upon his
own People, to invade what Countries he pleaſed, to defolate what Provinces, to
fack what Cities, to infult what States, his Vain-glory or Revenge fuggefted to him,
and to make what high, extravagant Demands he would; and that by a natural
fort of Juſtice, all this has turned to his diſadvantage, difabled his own People from
affording the Affiſtance he at laſt wanted, and arm'd the mightieſt Powers of
Europe againſt him, who have already broken his greateſt Strength to pieces, and
are in the Way of gathering more and more Fruits of this great Victory: If I
have done this, I have done what I principally intended, namely, proved to you,
that nothing but Juſtice, Honeſty, and true Honour, can be laſtingly depended
on; that nothing befides can make a Victory reliſh well, or bear Defeats and Dif-
appointments; and the fame that Juftice and true Honour are to Kingdoms and
great States, are Virtue, Honeſty, and Fair-dealing, to private People. The Power
of doing Miſchief and the Opportunities of gaining by Injustice, are but fo many
infidious Ways, by which vain Men are tempted to Deſtruction; but he that is
Wiſe and Honeſt, overlooks them all, and will confider what may happen; not
truſting to Succeſs, but to the End he aims at, and to the Means he pitches on,
whatever be the Iffue; for the Iffue makes neither Man nor Cauſe the better,
but only happier, or unhappier, with reſpect to the Affairs of this World. And Í
ſhall not think I have quite forgotten the Buſineſs of this Day, if I have fhewed
you, by the Way, the Occafion of this War, the Grounds of our Confederacy, the
Importance of this Victory, and the great Likelihood of our gathering more and
more Fruits from it; for by theſe Means, you will have feen what Reafon we
2 I
have
206
A Sermon preached September 7, 1704, &c.
have to give God Thanks for it: And I am the lefs concerned, becauſe we are only
to do this Day, by Authority, in Publick, with one Confent, what I dare fay every
good Engliſhman hath done already in his Heart over and over by himſelf of his
own accord, namely, returned God Thanks for the great Succeſs he hath been
pleaſed to give us.
We have neither Friend nor Enemy Abroad, that will once imagine any Eng-
lifhman, of the Reformed Religion, can be difpleafed at fuch a Victory; and they
would wonder much, if we at Home fhould let them know we had, eſpecially when
King William had no Hand in it; for that, perhaps, with them, might have di-
ſturbed the Joy of any Triumph.
They are indeed very unfortunate, who mourn on theſe Occafions, which pro-
miſe an Eſtabliſhment to the Religion of the Country, the Securities of our Laws
and Liberties under the beſt of Conftitutions, which lay Foundations of a lafting
Peace, that we may reap the Fruits of a wife and righteous Adminiſtration, un-
der the happy Government of a moſt excellent, and virtuous, and religious Prin-
ceſs: That have fo gloriouſly maintained the Honour of the English Arms, dif-
covered to new, and as it were, unknown Countries, fuch Courage and fuch Con-
duct in our General, Officers, and Soldiers; and fo good Difcipline withal, that
they were both amazed and pleaſed, and redeemed at the fame Time. Theſe
Things merit the beſt Sacrifice that we can offer up of Praife and Thankſgiving,
not only folemn, but fincere; for we have truly never had a greater nor more
juſt Occafion in our Memory.
·
·
And as we owe to God Praife for theſe, and all his other Mercies, fo let us
pray him, of his Goodneſs, ſtill to have our Queen under his gracious Favour and
Protection; that her Reign may be a long and laſting Bleffing to theſe Nations; to
preſerve for hers, and all our fakes, our General wife, and brave, and fortunate;
our Officers as valiant and intrepid; and our Soldiers as couragious and obedient,
as they have hitherto been; and bring them home in Honour and in Safety to
their Native Country, there to receive the Bleffings and Rewards of fuch as ven-
ture Life, and all they have, in the Defence of their Religion and their Nation.
I
THE
207
•
THE
RELATIVE DUTIES
Of Parents and Children, Hufbands and Wives,
Maſters and Servants; confider'd in Sixteen Practical
Diſcourſes: With Three Sermons upon the Caſe
of Self-Murther.
To the Inhabitants of the United Pariſhes of St. Auftin,
and St. Faith.
MY GOOD FRIENDS,
A
:
FTER Fifteen Years Experience of your kind Acceptance of my Labours with
you, in the House of God, I have no cauſe to doubt but fome of them will be
alſo acceptable to you at your private Homes: And, of them, I have chofen fuch
as I believed might be of the most spreading and most lafting Advantage, rather than fuch
as might, poffibly, please fome People better; as being very defirous of having my Re-
lation, and Affection to you, recommended to your Minds, in the most useful Manner,
whenever God fhould pleafe to part us from each other.
The Defign of Chriftianity is to make People happy in this World, as well as in ano-
ther: And the Way it takes to do this, is to make them Good and Virtuous whilft they
live, by the Diſcharge of all the Relations they stand in to each other, whether Natural,
Civil, or Contracted; i. e. by performing their Duty to their Neighbour. And there-
fore, if I can help to make you good Relations, you will, I know, be fo far good Chri-
ftians. But of this you will fee enough in the following Difcourfes.
There is, indeed, no want of Printed Sermons in the World, abundance of very learn-
ed and uſeful ones being daily put out: So that I do not pretend to fupply any Defect
of this Nature, or to correct the Miſtakes of any. But I uſe the Liberty I have in
common with other Writers, and give you fome of mine among the Reft. And if I fay,
I believe you will be fomething readier to read mine, than those of others, you know (as
I faid above) the Relation I have long had to you, will fomewhat justify fuch Expecta-
tion, and will a little excufe me, fhould I be mistaken. And there is, moreover, fome-
thing in Variety that is very inviting, which may tempt others to read theſe Difcourfes
as well as you; and I am very fure that whoever Reads them, will be no Lofer by it,
and ſhould be very blameable in putting them out, if I did not think fo. And that
is one great Uſe that we may make of People's Levity, or Want of Judgment, in
liking or disliking this or that Man's Way of Preaching; that, amidſt fo great Va-
riety, they will find ſomething to like, and profit by; which if they do, we are to
account our Labours well employed, and well paid for. To make theſe Diſcourſes more
ufeful, there is fomething Cafuiſtical in most of them; and fuch Rules, I hope, laid
down, as will enable a Man of tolerable Judgment, and honeft Mind, to determine
fafely in moft Cafes that ordinarily happen in Humane Life. In the Firſt Sermon, I
have endeavoured to treat Matters in fo plain and eafy a Manner, that, I hope, even
very young People will fee and understand the Reasons of their Duty: In the reft, I
Suppose
208
EPISTLE DEDICATORY.
Juppoſe
more Years and Confideration to make them useful. And, indeed, in all of
them, I have had efpecial Regard to Citizens, and Men of that Condition, intending
them mostly for their Service; whofe Wants as I thought I beft understood, fo I was fure
I owed them my beſt Aſſiſtance.
And because I thought that one Difcourfe would be as much as would be ufually Read
at any one Time, I have taken care, by a fhort Repetition of its Confequence, and Con-
nexion with the foregoing one, to make it in fome fort compleat by itself, not trusting
much to People's Memories. When I had made an End of theſe Diſcourſes upon Rela-
tive Duties, the Volume, it feems, was found too small for fome Purposes of the Book-
Seller, though big enough for my own, who only intended to treat of them; and there-
fore I was prevailed with to add Three more against Self-Murther, which, I hope,
will not be without their Ufe, fince that abhorred Practice Jeems to gain fome ground
among us.
As theſe Sermons were chiefly intended for your Benefit, so I have chosen to direct
them to you, that they may both appear, and be more yours than any one's befides:
And if you ſhall, on your Part, account yourſelves, in any Meaſure, credited by fuch
an Application to you; I fhall, I affure you, on my own Part, account my ſelf ſuffi-
ciently repaid by the Civility of reading them with Care and Diligence: There being
nothing, but your true and lafting Benefit intended in this Work, by (GENTLEMEN,)
Your moſt Affectionate Friend,
?
and Humble Servant,
W. F
209
+
DISCOURSE I.
EXOD. XX. VERSE 12.
Honour thy Father and thy Mother, that thy Days may be long in
the Land, which the Lord thy God giveth thee.
NTENDING (if it pleaſe God) to treat of the feveral Duties we owe to
our Neighbour, i. e. to one another, in the feveral Relations we ſtand in, to-
wards them; it is but fit to begin with that, which is, in Nature, Reafon,
and God's Appointment, to be firſt practifed: And that is, the Duty of Chil-
dren to their Parents, expreffed in the Words of the Text, Honour thy Father; &c.
In difcourfing upon which Words, I will, Firft, fhew, what is meant by honour-
ing our Parents: And, Secondly, but conjunctly, fhew the Reaſons of our fo ho-
nouring them: And, Thirdly, fee to the Reward here promiſed, That thy Days may
be long in the Land, which the Lord thy God giveth thee.
First, What is meant by honouring our Parents. To Honour fignifies a great
many Things, and takes its Senfe, efpecially, from the Perfon it relates to. To
honour God is one Thing; to honour the King, another; to honour our Superiors,
a third: And to honour our Equals, or Inferiors, is a different thing from all the
reft. And therefore the Word muft not be taken in the fame Senſe, where-ever
we meet it; but the Party, to whom it is to be paid, muſt determine its Meaning
and Extent. And therefore, fince it is the Intent of this Commandment, to fe-
cure the Duty of Children to Parents, the feveral Duties of them, in their ſeveral
Inftances, are comprehended in the Word Honour. When therefore we are com-
manded to honour our Father and Mother, we are commanded to love them, to respect
them, to obey them, and to fuccour and ſupport them all we can. First, we are
commanded to love our Parents: But becaufe, properly fpeaking, it is not in our
Power (whatever we may think) to love or hate, to hope or fear, when, and what,
and whom we will; but according as we apprehend the Thing, or Perſon defire-
able and lovely; and that, upon this account, it will depend much upon the Pa-
rents Management, whether the Children ſhall love with that Affection of the
Heart, which both the Parents and themſelves defire they ſhould: Therefore, by
being commanded to love our Parents, we are eſpecially commanded to take and
keep fuch Courſes, as will moſt probably fecure and increaſe our natural Affection
to our Parents, and to avoid and decline all Things that may any ways diminiſh
it. To love our Parents, is fo natural, fo reaſonable, fo fit, and fo expected, that
few have the Confidence to own the Want of it, even when they know, and
grieve, perhaps, they have it not: And the Want of this Affection being often-
times the Occafion of our denying them that Refpect, Obedience, and Support,
we certainly owe, and ought, unquestionably, to pay to them, it is to be impro-
ved and nouriſhed by all the Confiderations we can raife. How far the Confide-
ration of their being, under God, the Authors and Originals of our Life and
Being, will contribute to the exciting this Affection, is not eaſy to determine.
The Ancients thought it would go a great way, and therefore inſiſted much upon
it. They ſeem to have been very fond of Being, as if it were, of itſelf, a great
Bleffing; whereas, if we confider it throughly, it is, of itſelf, no farther Good,
than as it makes us capable of receiving Good; for if we are in Mifery, our Being
is then far from Good, occafioning us juſt ſo much Evil as we fuffer; and, all that
while, our Being is being miferable.
2 K
If
210
Duty of Children to Parents.
If God himſelf fhould create us, with Defign of being miferable, we could not
thank him, much leſs love him, for giving us fuch Being: Nay, fhould he make
us to be miſerable after this Life, and leave us to be as happy as we could, whilft
we lived here; yet we could neither truly love, nor thank him, for creating us.
The very certainty of being at any Time miferable, by his Appointment, muft
make him dreadfully odious to our Minds: And therefore when we thank God
(as we daily do) for our Creation, it is upon this Account; that he has made us
capable of being happy both here, and hereafter; that he has given us all the
good Things of this World, i. e. Capacities and Powers of getting and enjoying
them, and of attaining everlaſting Happineſs in the Life to come. It is always
for fomething good, paft, prefent, or promiſed for the future, that we thank God:
And that is the fole Foundation of all Love; it terminates all upon ourſelves, and
our own Good; and where we neither have, nor do Experience that, nor have any
Good in hope, or proſpect, it is impoffible to love: And therefore the Love that
Children owe their Parents, upon the Account of receiving their Life and Being
at their Hands, is only fo far due, as the Being they give makes them capable
of receiving and enjoying other Good.
It is true, that the very having given Life and Being to their Children, without
any other Confideration, excites or creates a new and fingular Affection to them,
properly Parental; becauſe we find the like in other Creatures, that are incapable
of
any Confiderations: But yet, I queſtion not but this Parental, Natural, and Ir-
reſiſtible Affection, is greatly heightened and improved in Reaſonable Creatures, by
the Hopes of deriving fome Comfort, Credit, or Advantage from their Children:
So that, although the Parental Love be the moſt diſintereſted of all Loves, yet it is
truly ſelfiſh at the Bottom; propofing to itſelf Pleaſure and Satisfaction, Honour
and Credit, fome Advantage or other from the Objects of its Love. But notwith-
ſtanding this, the fingular and inexpreffible Affection of Parents to their Children,
deferves to be repaid with all the Love they can; becauſe the Parental Love is
hourly diſplaying and exerting itſelf, in all the beneficial Acts of Kindneſs it can
think upon: It fupplies all the Wants of helpless Infancy, fecures from all the
Hazards of heedlefs Childhood, and giddy unthinking Youth: It ſhapes the Body,
preſerves it ftrait and upright, and keeps the ſeveral Limbs in order, and fits them
for their natural Operations, and makes the Perfon beautiful and comely. And, to
do this, it bears with many Troubles, and incommodious Hardſhips; and though
theſe Matters appear but flight, and are but ſeldom thought upon; yet the Defects
and Miſeries that befal, where any of this Care is flackned, or this Love abated,
are not ſmall or inconfiderable; they have, ſome of them, an Influence on us all
our Lives.
But moreover, it is this Affection that informs the Mind, and regulates the Man-
ners; that trains up the Reaſon, exerciſes the Memory, and inſtructs them to argue,
and underſtand their little Affairs; and takes care to educate, and fit them for greater
Matters: It is this, that brings them firſt to God in Baptiſm, and that keeps them
after in the Ways of Goodneſs and Religion, by inftilling into them wife and virtu-
ous Principles; by remembring them conftantly of their feveral Duties; by encou-
raging them in Good, with Kindneſs, Favours, and Rewards; and by reproving,
threatning, and correcting them when Evil, or tending thereto.
Theſe, and a thouſand other, are the Ways that Parents take to make their Chil-
dren happy; befides thofe endleſs and innumerable Labours, Watchings, and Solli-
citudes, that confume their whole Life, to make them happy with the Riches
and good Things of this World; fo that whatever Benefits can be the Ground and
Foundation of Love in Children, the Care and Love of Parents abundantly affords
them.
Duty of Children to Parents.
2II
them.
And though the Parents are obliged, by Natural Inftinct and Affection,
i. e. by Principles of Love and Tenderneſs implanted in their Hearts by God,
to do thefe Things, and take this Care of Children; and though they find their
Pleaſure, and Account, in fo doing (for God, who made this Love, and this Pro-
vifion neceffary, hath alfo, in his Goodneſs, made it eafy and delightful to the Pa-
rent) yet is the Children's Love nevertheleſs due in return for the Parental one;
becauſe that Love is founded upon Benefits received, or hoped for: And whatever
might move the Parents, yet it is certain they defigned the Benefits, and the Chil-
dren find and feel them: And therefore are obliged to take the Remembrance of
them into Confideration, to excite and ftir them up to love their Parents, who
have done ſo great Things for them; and who were not only the Authors of
their Being, but alſo, under God, of their Welfare, and their preſent Happineſs.
And though the Parents Defigns, and Endeavours after Happinefs, fhould not fuc-
ceed according to their Wiſhes, as very often they will not; yet fince there is no
Want of Love and Care in them, the Obligation on the Child is ftill the fame.
And I chufe to make the Senſe of Benefits received, or at leaft intended, and
the Hope of Benefits to come, the Bottom and Foundation of the Filial Love;
not only becauſe it is unquestionably fo in Truth, and the Foundation of all
other Love, and the true Cement of all Relations, and that which truly obliges to
the Performance of all Duties, and makes them to become Duties, antecedently to
all Commands, whether of God or Man; but alſo for the Parent's fake, that they,
knowing on what it is that Love is truly bottomed, and expecting, defiring and
approving nothing more than the Love of their Children, may take the greater
Care to raiſe and fecure this Love, by laying fuch Foundation for it, that it
cannot eaſily miſcarry; for this will fhew them, that although the Fondneſs and
the Blandiſhments of Parents will pleafe and gain the Love of their Children,
whilft they continue childiſh, wanton and unthinking; yet when they put away
childiſh Things, they will want fome other Foundation for them to build their Af-
fection on The Love, that was built upon their Play-things, will vaniſh when
thoſe are thrown away, and broken: And the Love, that fhould fucceed, will
want another Bottom: And that muſt be a wife, a virtuous, and religious Edu-
cation; and fuch a reaſonable and decent Provifion of Things temporal, that the
older the Children grow, the longer they live, the more they advance in Reafon
and Underſtanding, the better they ſhall Love their Parents, the greater Reaſon, the
juſter Cauſe they ſhall fee for their fo Doing; they fhall fenfibly feel the advan-
tageous Effects of their Parents Care. And therefore, upon this account, it is oft-
times much in the Parents Power to fecure the Children's Love, by the Obliga-
tions they may lay upon them: And let all People, when they find occafion to
awaken and excite this Affection to their Parents within them, call to mind the
many Benefits they have received at their Hands, as well as Being.
A Second Duty, Children owe their Parents, is Respect; that is, all external Ho-
nour and Civility. As Love comprizes all internal Honour and Eſteem; all their
Behaviour is to be fubmiffive, dutiful and mannerly, and fuch as becomes Infe-
riors towards their Betters. It is an offence against natural Decency, to fee the
Children bear themſelves upon the fquare with their Parents, to anſwer them rude-
ly or flightly, or to be wanting in Refpect towards them, whether in Looks or
Geſture, in unbeſeeming Words or Actions. And when Parents, through their
Fondneſs or want of Judgment, are content to take off the Reſtraint, to remove
the uſual Bars that kept their Children at due diſtance, and to admit them to Equa-
lity, it is great odds, but they repent it quickly: Few young ones know how to
ufe their Liberty, before their Time. And befides, it makes the Taſk of inſtructing
and
212
Duty of Children to Parents:
and managing them much more difficult; for when the Awe and Check is taken
off, (as it is by too much Condefcenfion and Familiarity) your Counfels make but
faint Impreffions, and your Commands are conftantly difputed. When Parents looſe
theſe Bands of Diſtance and Reſpect, if there be no Mifcarriage on it, it is not
owing to their Diſcretion, but to the Modeſty and Goodness of the Children's Dif-
poſition. But I am ſpeaking now of the Children's Behaviour, where the Parent
has not made way for Diſreſpect, by any undue Relaxation of Diſcipline; it is to
be full of Kindnefs and Good-nature, good Manners and Civility. They are obliged
to ſay Things honourable of them, to pry as little into their Infirmities and Fail-
ings as they can themſelves, and to extenuate and conceal them as much from
others. And for this there is fo much Reafon and Decency in Nature, that it fhocks
us, unavoidably, to hear one reproach his Parents with either Vices or Infirmities,
though what he fays is true, unleſs it be done with great Concern and Tenderneſs,
with Grief and Pity, and that to fuch as will make no ſcorn or mockage of them;
but when they do it with Contempt or Pleaſure in the telling, we cannot help
abhorring fuch Impiety: The Hearts of all Men go along with Noah, in laying
Puniſhment on Cham for his unnatural and profane Derifion; and love the Me-
mory of thoſe Sons, that would not ſee themſelves, nor fuffer others to be Witneffes
of the Miſcarriage of their Father.
There is, in a word, no worfer Token or Prognoftick of a bad Difpofition in
Children, than to fee them wanting in Reverence to their Parents, in any kind:
It is probable they will never make good Citizens and Subjects to the Common-
wealth, or good Relations of any fort, failing in thoſe refpects which are moſt
due, and paid with greateſt eaſe, and accepted the moſt kindly.
And that Children may diſcharge this Part of their Duty better, as it is partly
in the Parents Power, fo it fhould be their Care and Concern. They muſt be care-
ful how they live, and behave themſelves in fight of their Children, and what Ex-
amples they fet them; for if they make themſelves vile and cheap in their Chil-
dren's Eyes, by too much Familiarity, by light and indiſcreet Carriage, either to-
wards them, or others in their fight, they will in vain expect that Reverence and
Reſpect that is due to their Relation. The Foundation of Respect is fome ſuppoſed
Excellence and Worth; and, in this Caſe, ſome kind of Superiority; and when
Parents admit their Children to an Equality, and make them confcious to their In-
difcretions, Follies, and Miſcarriages, they do but invite Contempt, taking away
the
very Foundation and Support of all Reſpect and Honour. The Children ſhould
not, if it could be hindred, be fo much as Witneſſes of any thing indecently faid
or done by Parents: All the domeftick Differences, the idle and unfeemly Quarrels
and Debates, the fimple and unkind Words and Actions, that much too commonly
paſs betwixt the Parents, ſhould be concealed and hidden from Children: For they
obſerve and treaſure up theſe evil Follies; and, fecretly, at leaft, fide with the one,
and learn to hate or to defpife the other, or entertain, too foon, a mean Opinion of
them both; which undermines all manner of Efteem and dutiful Obfervance.
Nay, and ſometimes it comes to paſs, that one Parent will, moſt unadviſedly
and ungodlily, fupport the Children in Contempt and Diſreſpect to the other; and,
to vex and wreak their Anger on each other, will make their Children miferable by
Difobedience. This is a fearful Cafe, and a Thing they ought at no hand to do;
for neither Parent has Authority to abfolve the Children of their Duty to the other.
And though one of them ſhould be of evil Fame, and bad Example; yet is Respect,
and all exterior Honour to be paid them, even when they can be neither loved,
obeyed, or imitated by the Children: For this Part of honouring the Parents is al-
ways in the Children's Power, and always to be done: And therefore though the
Cafe
+
Duty of Children tò Parents.
213
Cafe may fometimes be fo hard, as that the Children ſhall not be able to pay
Obedience to the ſeveral, and, fometimes, oppofite Commands of their Parents; yet
it can never happen fo, that they ſhall not always be able to pay Reſpect and
Honour to them both: And therefore, of this they muſt never fail, for the doing
this can never be an Injury to either Parent.
And if one Parent ſhould be fo unreaſonable as to require the Child to affront
or diſreſpect the other, the Child would be fafe in a reſpectful Difobedience, and
Refufal; becauſe no Parent has a Right of taking away another's Right; and each
of them have equal Right to the Reſpect and Honour of their Children: And there-
fore the Honour and Refpect that one requires at the Children's Hands, is of equal
force to pay it to the other. It muſt indeed be paid to both, by all Children
and it is a moſt unkind and wicked thing, for any Parent to command, require,
encourage, or be pleaſed with any rude, ill-natured and undutiful Behaviour of
the Children to either of the Parents, upon any Provocation or Account whatever.
Children are the Pledges of mutual Love, and the Cement of Affection: The uſe
of them is, naturally to make up Differences; and it is fad, when they become
occafions, or widners of a Breach.
But after all, there can be no fuch univerfally obliging Rules of Honour and
Reſpect, as that all People ſhould alike obferve them: The common Ufages, and
Cuſtoms of the Country, are like to be the beſt Standard and Meaſure of Reſpect and
Honour: And there feems to be a Refpect peculiar to fome Qualities and Condi-
tions, that were not proper to be uſed by others. Only this I think may be ob-
ferved, that the meaner People are, the leſs they look after and require this duti-
ful Reſpect at their Children's Hands: And they commonly fare the worfe for it;
there being abundantly more Inftances of Rudeness, Stubbornneſs, Ill-nature, Dif-
obedience, and Rebellious Carriage among the Children of ordinary and mean
People, than thoſe of better Quality and Condition; which ſhould not be, for the
pooreſt Parents have right to Honour and Reſpect from their Children, as well as
the Rich and High; and they both might and would have it, if they would look
after it in due Time, and require it of them; and it would be a great Advantage
both to themſelves and Children, to bring them up, though never fo mean, in a
reſpectful Awe, and dutiful Regard to their Parents; they would find their account
in ſo doing, and reap more Comfort from their Children than they commonly do.
And what I faid of keeping Children at a Diſtance, is alfo to be underſtood
with Caution and Diſcretion; it does moſt commonly and naturally preſerve Re-
fpect and Honour, and therefore it is generally beft to be obſerved: But the diffe-
rent Circumſtances of Parents, and the different Tempers and Difpofitions of Chil-
dren may make great Alteration; and therefore are to come into Confideration.
Some Children and Young People are of fo Modeft a Temper, and fo diſcreetly
Educated and Behaved, that all the Liberty you give them, does them no Harm;
they ſtill preſerve a lively Senſe of Reſpect, and never go beyond their bounds, but
demean themſelves Decently in the midſt of Favour and Indulgence: Thefe would
be hurt by great Reſtraint and Awe, and the Parent would lofe a great deal of
Comfort and Innocent Delight, by keeping fuch at too much diſtance. Others
grow Wanton, Infolent and Headftrong upon the leaft Indulgence, and know not
how to behave themſelves under Liberty and Kindneſs; and fall from their Re-
ſpect immediately, neither knowing themſelves, nor others. This is the general
Tendency; this is the Humour of moft; and Liberty is hurtful to them: Reſtraint
and Awe is beſt for theſe, and without them they are miſerable.
The Difference of Age is alfo to be confidered, as well as Temper, in the mat-
ter of Diſtance. It would be Weakneſs to expect the fame Regard from the Elder
2 L
as
214
Duty of Children to Parents.
as from the Younger: The Elder muft no more be wanting in Refpect than the
Younger; but they are each to confider what is proper and becoming them to pay;
and fo is the Parent too. No Age, no Quality, no Change of Condition, though
never fo much for the better, can exempt the Children from paying Honour and
Refpect to their Parents; but they will each of them make fome Change and Al-
teration of the Expreffion of that Refpect. This Honour and Refpect of Chil-
dren to their Parents, is not only Handfome and Becoming, but exceedingly uſe-
ful to many good purpoſes in publick Government; and therefore all States and
Kingdoms have taken care to fecure them. And therefore I have chofen, not
only to fhew the Children the Reaſonablenefs, the Decency and Neceffity of it,
and the Obligations they lie under from God's Command; but to excite the Pa-
rents alſo, to endeavour, what they can, to preferve and keep it up in their Children;
having fuch Power, and fo many Advantageous Opportunities, of doing it, which
they muſt not omit, both for their own, and for their Children's Sakes: It would
be better, if they would try to Puniſh, rather than Grieve for the Slights or Dif-
reſpects fhewed by their Children; they would certainly Grieve the lefs, and fel-
domer.
And this would alfo make way for the readier and better Obedience to their
Commands, which is the Third and Principal Thing to be confidered, and cer-
tainly concluded under this Commandment, of Honouring our Parents. And in-
deed, without Obedience, Refpect and Honour would be meer Formality, and
Mockage. There is all the Reaſon in the World, that whilft Children want Un-
derſtanding to direct their Choice and Will, they ſhould have no other Will but
that of their Parents; and therefore ſhould obey whilst they do not Underſtand.
Even Children themſelves fee this, as foon as they come to Reaſon in the leaſt De-
gree: They fee, that if they had been left to themſelves, they had in many Cafes
come to Miſchief; and therefore ſee how fit it was they ſhould obey their Parents
Orders and Commands. And People, fomewhat older, fee as much Neceffity that
they ſhould do fo too; and they themſelves will fee as much, when they have once
outgrown their Childiſh Fancies. They will fee that their Parents Wiſdom, and
Experience, and Capacity, was much greater than their own, and therefore fitter
to Rule and Guide. I believe there are few People in the World, that have, whilſt
Young, difputed and repined at the Commands of their Parents, who have not
afterwards changed their Minds, and found they were truly wifer, better, and
more reaſonable to be complied withal, than their own Wills and Humours; al-
though for the prefent they thought otherwife. It is moſt likely that, having
lived longer, ſtood higher, and obferved Things better, they ſhould be moſt in the
Right, and give the beſt Advice. The Parents muſt needs difcern what is moſt fit
and proper for their Children: And therefore though they may be now and then
miſtaken, yet it is always fafeft to follow their Inftructions and Commands. When
Children obey their Parents, though they afterwards happen to miſcarry; yet they
have this to comfort themſelves withal, that they miſcarried in their Duty and Obe-
dience; that they took the fafeft and wifeft Courſe, and fuch as all good People
approve; and every one is much more ready to pity and help fuch, under their
Misfortunes, than fuch as fell into the like, through Stubbornness, and Self-conceit,
and Difobedience. There is therefore all the Prefumption in the World upon the
Parents fide, that their Advice and Commands are the wifeſt and moſt reaſonable.
And next, there is all the Certainty of the good Intention and Defign that can be.
Who ſhould intend the Benefit of Children fo much as the Parent? Why, they
feem to live for no other End and Purpoſe, than to do them good; they have no
other Aim than their Advantage; all their Care and Study, all their Thoughts are
fixt
Duty of Children to Parents.
215
fixt
upon them. They fuffer a Thouſand Inconveniencies for their Sake, and chooſe
to live, fometimes, penuriouſly, and hardly, that their Children may live at Eafe
and Pleaſure. And who fhould fufpect the Counfels, and Commands of fuch, of
want of Love and Kindness? And there is nothing more proper to perfwade, than
an Opinion that they do it out of Love, and defign our Good thereby. Now no
one can poffibly be fo affured of the Kindneſs and Good-will of any one befides,
as of his Parents; and therefore the Commands of no one ought to be entertained
with a better Opinion of them; and this would help to forward our Obedience
to them. It would be well, if the Young ones would (as they are capable) confi-
der a little with themſelves. Thefe Counfels and Commands come from People
that have lived a great deal longer in the World than I, have made Remarks, and
had Experience: They have had Parents themſelves, and either followed their Ad-
vice, or repented of not doing it: It is true, the Duties enjoyned me are unae-
ceptable to me; they are fuch as I fhould not chooſe, and fuch as I do not like;
but I have often found myſelf miſtaken; and I have now no reaſon to think myſelf
wifer than they, who perfwade me otherwiſe than I am inclined: I am but of
Yeſterday, and know little; I have no Experience; and fure theſe Parents have not
lived fo long for nothing; Old Age has fomething in it good moſt certainly;
Wiſdom, Knowledge and Experience, commonly attend it, and make them fit
for Counſellors: There is all the Prefumption of Wiſdom on their Side that can
be. And then, for their Affection and Good-will, I have equal Reaſon to conclude
on them alſo; there is no Body fo like to wish me well as they; there is no Body
has done fo much for me, no Body grieves at my Mifcarriages like them, or
Studies and Endeavours to prevent them with that Concern and Care: Other Peo-
ple, as it comes in their way, give me good Counſel, and fay the fame Things,
in effect, that Parents do; they warn me of the fame Dangers, and exhort me
to the fame Duties; but I can plainly perceive there is a great deal of Difference
betwixt the Mind and Concern with which our Parents fpeak, and thoſe of other
People, though good Friends. They ſpeak with a lively Senſe and Feeling, with
Force and Affection, in great Earneft, and from the Bottom of the Heart: As if
they were to endure the Evils, they warn us to avoid; and ſhare with us the Mi-
feries we ſhall undergo, if we follow not their Counfels; fo that they ſeem to be
exceedingly intereſted in our behalf: And yet it is evident, they can make no
manner of Advantage of our complying with them; they can get nothing by us
but Content and Satisfaction; all they have already is ours in Defign, and all they
are getting ftill, and intend or defire to get, is for us. So that we can fufpect
them of no Deſign upon us; and all thefe Things fhew us moſt evidently, that
what they fay to us, the Commands they lay upon us, proceed from the trueft,
moſt fincere, difintereſted Affection in the World. They are afflicted and undone
when we miſcarry; let them be never fo wife, or rich, or honourable, our Folly,
Sin and Difobedience, will make them miſerable: Although they loſe thereby nei-
ther their Underſtanding, Wealth nor Places; yet fuch is their Concern for us,
that in all theſe Things they are not happy, unleſs we will confent to make them
fo, by being dutiful and obedient, and taking good and virtuous Courſes: And,
on the other Side, let us be never fo wife, or rich, or honourable, all that our Pa-
rents get by it is Pleafure and Content, for which (inſtead of taking ought away)
they lift up their Hands and Hearts to God, and bleſs us. And can I think the
Counfels and Commands of fuch People are not the beſt that they could think
on, the moſt kindly intended, and fitteft for my Practice and Compliance?
None of theſe Confiderations are above the Capacity and Understanding of
young People, when they come to be capable of receiving and obeying Com-
mands:
216
Duty of Children to Parents.
mands: There is nothing ſo plain and eafy as to confider, that Parents love their
Children dearly, and without Defign; and are older, wifer, and more experienced
than themſelves; and therefore the fitteft to command, and fitteſt to be obeyed.
And though the Commands of the Parents do often croſs the Children's Defires, and
hinder them from purſuing their Pleaſures; yet it is not becauſe the Parents envy
them their Pleaſures, or deny them Satisfaction, to ſhew their Power and Autho-
rity; but becauſe the Profecution of their Defires, in theſe forbidden Inſtances, is
criminal, and would be hurtful to them, although perhaps they ſee it not: They
never command them to do any thing, but the doing it tends to the Children's
Advantage; nor ever forbid them any thing, but what is hurtful in itſelf, or Con-
fequences: And therefore, though the Children fee nothing but Pleaſure in what
they propofe; yet the Parents ftands higher, and fees there is alfo Sin, or Danger
near it; and fees how it will operate at diftance, and what Fruits it will produce.
And as they remember their Parents to have hinder'd them, when they were younger,
from eating feveral Meats, or drinking ſeveral Drinks, and doing ſeveral Things,
which they then liked, and defired to have and do, and grieved and repined at
their Refufal, which, yet, they are now fatisfied, proceeded from no Unkindneſs,
but turned, as it was intended, to their Benefit; fo might they learn to conclude,
that the commanding them Things, for the prefent, uneafy, and forbidding them
Things, for the preſent ſweet and defirable, may be full as reaſonable, and fit to
be complied withal; and that when a little Time is over-paſt, and the Seaſon of
Pleaſure fomewhat ſpent, they will be equally fatisfied with the Care and Wiſdom
of their Parents. And this young People would do well to improve; they are
capable of confidering, and they ought to do it. Let them inquire of all the
Neighbourhood, of all their Acquaintance that are grown up, and older than them-
felves (and the older ſtill the better ;) let them inquire of all, or any of theſe, and
ſee how many there are that will tell them, It is better, fafer and wifer, to follow
their own Humours, than the Advice of their Parents; and how many, upon
Experience, have fucceeded in difobeying their Commands; how many there are
who are not grieved at their Diſobedience, and do not wiſh moſt earneſtly they
had complied with what was adviſed, or required of them: And when they find
that all the World agree, that notwithſtanding the preſent Defires, and the Un-
eaſineſs of complying with the Commands of Parents, yet it is better ſo to do;
that they who have obeyed, are very much fatisfied; and they who have not,
are grieved and troubled, and wiſh they had: They will fee they ought to con-
clude, that however unacceptable fome Commands of Parents may for the Pre-
fent be, yet it is better to yield to them, than to indulge to their own Hu-
mours; and that the united Wiſdom and Experience of the whole World is a
fafer Bottom to proceed upon, than any preſent Longing.
Theſe are ſome of the Grounds and Principles upon which the Obligation of
Children to comply with, and obey their Parents Commands, is built, and de-
pends: There are alſo others; but I rather choſe to mention, and infiſt on theſe,
becauſe they are fuch as young People themſelves, who are principally concerned,
may ſee the Reaſon of, and have Capacity and Parts to confider, that their Obe-
dience may not be altogether blind and implicit; and becauſe it is as probable,
as any thing befides, that they are the Reaſons, at the Bottom, of God's Com-
mand, that Children ſhould obey their Parents: And are alfo the Reaſons why
theſe Children ſhould themſelves, when in time they come to be Parents, exact
and require, and find Obedience at their Children's Hands. This every one ex-
pects, this all are naturally lead to: Where is the Parent that does not think it
reaſonable his Children fhould obey him, even againſt their Inclinations? And
fhould
Duty of Children to Parents.
217
ſhould not prefer his Wiſdom and Experience to their own Will or Underſtanding?
And truft to his Affection, Love and Favour, rather than purfue their own Hu-
mours? And upon the fame Account and Grounds that any one expects Obedience
from his Children, he knows he ought to pay it to his Parents. Now Children
and young People obferving (as they eafily may) that Parents univerfally exact
Obedience at their Childrens Hands, may very well conclude, that they fhall do
fo too, whenever they come to be Parents; and may conclude, that there muft
certainly be good Reaſon in a Practice that all the different Nations of the World
agree and center in. And if they can imagine that all the World could not agree
in any Thing that was not reaſonable and juít, and yet agree in requiring Chil-
dren to obey their Parents, they will quickly fee that it is reaſonable and juſt for
Children to obey their Parents; for the Parents could not reaſonably require it,
if it were not reaſonable that the Children ſhould give it.
But left theſe Reaſons ſhould not prevail, God makes it a Command, and bids
us Honour our Father and Mother: So that he, who is difobedient now, offends
againſt Command as well as Reason; againſt God as well as Man: And to fhew us
how fit it is to comply with, and obey our Parents, God calls himſelf throughout
the Holy Scriptures our Father, and from that Title and Relation calls for our
Obedience. And therefore ftubborn, head-ftrong, difobedient and rebellious Chil-
dren, ought to think upon theſe Things; to confider all the Ties and Obligati-
ons that they have, to be obedient to their Parents; the Reaſonableneſs, the Plea-
fure, and Security of being fo; the Approbation of all good People, and the Blef-
fing of God that goes along with it: And, on the other hand, the Grief, and
Trouble of Mind, the Sorrow and Repentance, at home, the Shame and Infa-
my from abroad, and the Diſpleaſure of Almighty God, that attend and follow
Difobedience to their Parents. They ought, I fay, to think upon theſe Things,
and whatever elfe may forward them in the Performance of their Duty. But
becauſe there are a great many Cafes, in which the Children plead Exemp-
tion from this Rule; and in which they do not actually obey their Parents Com-
mands, and yet defend themſelves as no Tranfgreffors of this Law; it
may be
of ſome uſe to fee in what Particulars they are obliged to obey without Re-
ſerve, and in what they are at Liberty; that the Duty of Children, and the juſt
Authority of Parents, may be both of them ſecured. But of thefe Things in the
following Difcourfes.
DISCOURSE II.
H
EXOD. xx. VERSE 12.
Duty of Children to Parents.
AVING fhewn, That under Honouring Father and Mother, is compre
hended Loving, Refpecting, Obeying, and Relieving them under any
Neceffity, I had only Time to ſpeak to the Motives and Obligations,
Children have to pay their Parents, Love, Refpect and Obedience; and
to excite the Parents to fecure theſe ſeveral Parts of Duty from the Children to
themſelves, by all the Ways and Methods they could think on, as well for their
2 M
Childrens
}
218
Duty of Children to Parents.
Childrens fake, as for their own Comfort: I am now, before I leave this Head,
to confider fome of the Cafes, in which the Children plead Exemption from this
Command; and to lay down fuch Rules as may, moft probably, fecure the Duty
of Children, and the juft Authority of Parents.
And, Firſt, it is certain that all Commands of God muſt be obeyed, before thoſe
of Parents; if ever they interfere, our Duty to God is moſt undoubtedly to be
preferred. The Counfels or Commands of Parents muſt never ſway fo far with
Children, as to caufe them to do what God forbids, or to neglect to do what God
commands; becauſe the Authority of God is firft, and greateſt; nothing is to ftand
in Competition with it; but then the Command of God muſt be plain and evident;
it must not be a doubtful and difputed Thing; but full as certain, as that Obedi-
ence is due to the Commands of Parents: Walk ye not in the Statutes of your Fa-
thers, neither obferve their Judgments, nor defile your felves with their Idols: I am the
Lord your God, walk in my Statutes, and keep my Judgments, and do them; faith God
to his People, Ezek. xx. 18. In wicked and forbidden Inftances, we are not to be
led by, their Example, Counfels, or Commands; but then muft hate our Father,
and our Mother, and follow Chrift; i. e. prefer our Duty and Obedience to God, to
all other Confiderations. Thus if Parents fhould be fo wickedly inclined as to
command their Children to lie, to fteal, to do Violence and Injuftice, the Children
muſt refuſe, but with Refpect; they are not at liberty to obey, they have an ante-
cedent Obligation, they are tied by God to Truth, and Honefty, and Juftice: Chil-
dren obey your Parents, in all Things, for this is well pleafing unto the Lord, faith St.
Paul, Colof. iii. 20. But then it is explained in Ephef. vi. 1. Children obey your Pa-
rents, in the Lord, for this is right; i. e. according to God's Command and Will;
for to obey them against God, can neither be right nor pleafing, and fo we ſhould
have underſtood him had he not explained himself, and fo we muft underſtand
him in all other Places. But of this there is not much Diſpute; People do gene-
rally agree, that God is to be obeyed rather than Man.
But though Children are at liberty to diſobey unjuft Commands, yet are they
not always at liberty to do or undertake even Things that are truly good and reli-
gious, without the Confent, or againſt the Commands of their Parents: That is,
where the Thing to be done or undertaken, is not as certainly commanded by
God, as it is commanded to obey our Parents; we are there rather to obey our
Parents, commanding us not to do fuch Thing, than to do it, though it be truly
good in itſelf: And fuch Obedience to Parents, would not be obeying Man rather than
God; becauſe fuch Thing is not exprefly commanded them by God. The Cafe is
common in the World Abroad, though it concerns us but little. To retire from the
Buſineſs and Temptations of the World, into a Cloyfter, there to devote the Whole
of their Lives to Prayer and Meditation, and the more immediate Service of God,
is certainly (with them) exceeding laudable, and religious; and to avoid Tempta-
tions, by Prayer and Meditation, is certainly commanded by God: But yet this
is not lawful for Children to undertake without Confent, or againſt the Commands
of their Parents; and the Pretences, that are made for fuch a Difobedience, are
not ſtrong enough to bear it out. They ſay, that to ferve God no Man need to
afk Leave: That is very true in the General; but as to the particular Manner of
ſerving him, there may be great Need of aſking Leave, becauſe it may concern
another: It may be to the Parents Prejudice to be defrauded of the Children's Ser-
vice, or otherways hurtful to him.
They fay, that if the Father be Superiour, yet God is the Supreme; and bath
more Right to the Children than the Parents have: This is alfo true; but this Su-
preme hath bounded his Right by Commands, which are firſt to be obſerved, and
after
Duty of Children to Parents.
219
after that the Parents. God hath a Right to be obeyed, and this no Duty tổ
Parents can diſpenſe withal; but then this Right is only to be known by his Com-
mands: The Children cannot fay, This is a good Thing that I am about to un-
dertake, and therefore God hath a Right to my Performance of it, unleſs it be
commanded; for many Things are good that are not commanded exprefly to all
People, but only to be done in Time and Place convenient, and by fit and pro-
per Perfons. And when Children withſtand the Commands of their Parents, up-
on Pretence of pleafing God, they forget that God is beft pleafed with Obedience;
and that they neglect to obey God, commanding them to obey their Parents, whilſt
they think to pleaſe him in doing a Thing that he has left them at liberty to
do or not, and that their Parents would not have them do.
They ſay moreover, That though the Parents have a Right over the Bodies of
their Children; yet that they are to have the Difpofal of their Souls, as being the most
interested and concerned in them: And this is alfo certainly true; but obeying the
Parents Commands will not hurt the Children's Souls; their Souls may certainly be
ſafe without their entring into a Religious Houſe, and devoting their whole Lives
to Prayer and Meditation. To ferve God, and be very devout; to pray much, and
meditate often; are very compatible and conſiſtent with ſtaying in the World, and
obeying the Commands of Parents: But to difobey, and grieve, and it may be injure
the Parents by fuch Retirement, are not confiftent with Religion, and our Duty
to either God or our Parents. So that to do well and wifely, we must obey our
Parents Commands, of which we are certain, rather than certainly diſobey them,
in hopes of pleaſing God, by purſuing our own Inclinations, of which there is no
Neceffity. The Children are indeed to diſpoſe of their own Souls, and all the
Reaſon in the World they ſhould; becauſe they are only concerned in them, and
fhall be anfwerable for them: And therefore if Parents Command their Children
to be wicked and ungodly, or to do any Thing that might deſtroy or hurt their
Souls, they were not to be obeyed, or hearkned to: If they ſhould Command tớ
renounce Chriftianity, or to deſpiſe Morality, it were nothing; they have no Right
to Obedience: But when the Cafe is only of fome particular Mode of ferving God,
the Soul is fecure as well in one as the other; and the Pretence of greater Sanctity,
and the more advantageous Opportunity of living holily, is not a Caufe fufficient
for a Child to withdraw himſelf from his Father's Power, to which he is juftly
ſubjected, and is not Maſter of himſelf, to give himſelf up to other Government,
where his Parents fhall have no more to do with him: And if it be true, that the
Children's Bodies are under the Government and Difpofal of Parents, it will be un-
juſt to deprive them of that Power, under Pretence of taking care of the Soul,
which may alſo be ſecured the other Way. The ancient Chriftians were very ten-
der of the Childrens Duty to their Parents; and therefore would not admit any
one to fuch Retirement, Monaftick Difcipline, or Vow of Celibacy, without the
Confent and Goodwill of their Parents, though Things were then much otherwiſe,
than now, or of late. And yet the Men, who by theſe Vows and Promifes fet
the Children at liberty from their Parents, are fo reſtrained by Senſe, and the Rea-
fon of the Thing, that they will not admit any of the Male Kind to make fuch
Vow of Religious Life till Fourteen or Sixteen Years of Age, nor any of the Fe-
male till Twelve; which does not at all juſtify them, for thofe are not the Years
of Confideration and Difcretion: The Light of Reafon does but then begin to
fhine forth: They have commonly then juſt Wit enough to think they have more
Underſtanding than they have; to be conceited, confident, and eaſily to be impofed
upon by the gay Appearances, and pompous Snares, that are laid for them. A
more mature Age, and a Diſpoſition naturally propenfe to a devout and folitary
·
•
Life,
220
Duty of Children to Parents.
Life, might make fuch Choice more reaſonably to be complied with by the Pa-
rent; for Age and natural Inclination are the Things that moſt excufably emanci-
pate and free a Son or Daughter, from following the Counfels or Commands of
Parents: Though what that Age is, will beſt be determined by Cuſtom and Con-
fent of People. This Cafe is now out of Doors with us; and we have not any
like it, that I can think on, where Men pretend to free the Children from obeying
their Parents Commands, upon the Account of doing a better Thing, the giving
themſelves up to God. I only mentioned it, to fhew, that though the Commands
of Parents are never to be preferred to the Commands of God, yet that thoſe Com-
mands muſt needs be plain and certain; and that Children are not at liberty to
withſtand the Commands of their Parents, upon Pretence of doing Things truly
good and religious, and obeying God rather than Man. When they obey God ra-
ther than Man (whom they ſhould otherwiſe obey) the Command of God muſt
be as evident as the Command of their Parents, i. e. they muſt be certainly God's
Commands.
1
Secondly, It is alſo certain, that the Laws of our Country are to take Place of
the private Commands of our Parents: That is, we are not tied to obey our Pa-
rents when they Command us any Thing contrary to the Laws of the Land;
no more than when they Command Things contrary to the Laws of God. The
Reaſon of which is this, that the Publick Good being greater, and to be preferred
to any Man's private Good, and without which all private Men could have and
enjoy no Good, it cannot be preſerved but by Obedience to fuch Laws as are
made to fecure it: And therefore no one can have Right to fuch Obedience as
would obftruct the Publick Good, which all Laws are prefumed to confult eſpe-
cially: And a Man muſt not compare the Benefits he receives from his Parents,
with the Benefits the Publick would receive by his fingle Obedience to the Laws,
but with the Benefits the Community receives from the Obedience of every ſingle
Subject; and then he will fee that it is more reaſonable the Laws fhould be
obeyed rather than any private Man againſt them; for if one Son may obey his
Parent againſt the Laws, fo may another, and then more: And therefore it is cer-
tain, that none may; for no one's Good is to be confidered in Competition with
the Publick. If a Father therefore ſhould Command his Son to betray his Coun-
try, fet the Capitol on Fire, blow up the Magazine, bear falfe Witneſs, give his
Opinion contrary to the Laws, or be inftrumental to the overthrowing the Confti-
tutions of the Kingdom; he muſt not ſo honour his Father, as to obey any fuch
Commands. He muft fay as Agefilaus faid to his Father, adviſing him to give a
Judgment againſt the Laws; You have your felf, Sir, taught me to obferve the Laws
from my Youth up, and I am now going to obey you, in taking care to keep them.
They are, in all fuch Cafes, to appeal to their Parents better informed; they are to
preſume them always willing, that the Children ſhould do Juft and Honeſt Things;
and not ſo much to mind what they bid them do, when Concerned, as what they
would have them do, when out of that Concern.
Theſe are the two Caſes in which Children are exempted from obeying the Com-
mands of their Parents; when either the Laws of God, or of the Land interpoſe,
we are to hearken to them. And even in theſe Cafes, we are to difobey our Pa-
rents with great Modeſty and Tenderneſs; not with Upbraidings and Reproaches,
with high and ſcornful Refufals; but by declining and avoiding fuch Commands,
with all the gentle Arts, and Methods of Submiffion poffible. Even in a Righteous
Caufe, the Language of the Children must be Humble to the Parents, faith Salvian:
Becauſe they cannot, or will not Obey, they must not therefore Triumph and grow
Infolent. One ſhould not eafily appear to Underſtand that any Wicked and Un-
lawful
Duty of Children to Parents.
221
Unlawful Thing is commanded by our Parents: But at no hand we muſt com-
ply with
any fuch Commands. In other Cafes, of Matters indifferent, Obedience
is the fure Side; and yet there is great Regard to be had to the Age, and to the
Circumſtances of the Parents, before one can well Determine of the Obedience
that is due without confidering theſe, and other Particulars, it will not be eafy
to paſs a true Judgment in the moſt common Cafe, and the moſt neceffary to
be confidered: And that is, the Marriage of Children without, or againſt the
Confent of Parents; whether this be confiftent with the Obedience due to Parents,
and be not a Violation of the 5th Commandment.
It is not indeed exprefly faid in Scripture, that Children ſhall not Marry without
the Confent, or againſt the Will of their Parents; but it is exprefly faid, that they
fhall Honour and Obey them; and it will be hard to reconcile Marrying againſt
Confent, with Honouring the Parents; or Marrying againſt Command, with Obey-
ing them. And, generally ſpeaking, the Inftances and Examples of Marriage, in
Scriptures, are fuch, as fhew the Parents had the chiefeft Hand in making of
them up.
The Stile ſtill was, That fuch a one gave his Son, or Daughter, to fuch a
one in Marriage. So that the Law being given particularly to the Jews, and this
being the general Practice amongſt them, it is not unreaſonable to think, they held
themſelves obliged by this Law, not to marry againſt their Parents Will and Con-
fent: But whether obliged by this Law, or no, the Cuſtom was ſuch, that it was
feldom otherwiſe. It is probable, that, in the Patriarchal Age, Efau might Marry
againſt the Conſent of his Parents; but Efau has all along a bad Character; and
yet it is not certain that he married againſt Command; but only certain that his
Wives pròved very troubleſome and vexatious to Rebeccah.
It is alfo certain, that fuch was the Cuſtom amongſt the Greeks and Romans,
two of the wiſeſt and moſt civilized People of all the World. There would be
no end of Citations, to this purpoſe, out of their Books; they are full of them:
And though there must be many Examples to the contrary, yet are there no
Rules or Precepts in favour of the Childrens Liberty; but when they take it, it is
ftill with Blame. Nay, this Diſpoſal of Children by Parents, is not only a Mat-
ter reaſonable and fair, and approved by wife and good Men among them; and
ftrengthened by Cuſtom uncontrouled and immemorial, but it paffed into Laws
and Statutes. They reckoned there was no Marriage without the Conſent of the
Parents, and the Children were all accounted Baſtards: And Chriſtianity for a
great while made no Alterations in the Matter; the Civil Laws of Chriſtian Em-
perors confirmed the Opinion of the Ancients; and the Sentence of the Church
went along with them: The Canons, and the Judgment of the beſt Writers, are
all on this Side: They ftill make the Conſent of Parents effential to the Contract.
The Laws of our own Nation take no Notice of Conſent of Parents; they trust it,
I believe, to the Reaſon of the Thing it felf, and to the Wiſdom of all Ages, and
to the Cuſtom and Example of almoſt all Nations; but the Canons of our Church
dare not venture that, but pofitively require the Confent of Parents: They [101]
tell us, That it is not lawful for any Children (unleſs arrived to the Age of 21) to
make any Marriage-Contract, without the Confent of their Parents; or, in Cafe they
are dead, of their Guardians and Governors. And that is one good End ſhe pro-
poſes in Publiſhing the Banns of Matrimony, that the Parents and People concern-
ed may know, whether they think fit to agree to their Children's Choice or no.
And, that this End may not be defeated by the Secrecy of Licences, it is required,
that one of the Parties fhould depofe on Oath, that Confent of the Parents is not want-
ing, before they can obtain the Licence. This Care our Church takes, though
much in vain; which fufficiently fhews her Opinion of the Matter, how far fhe
reckons the Confent of Parents neceffary.
2 N
But
222
Duty of Children to Parents.
But to all this, it is but reaſonable to hear and confider what may be antwer
ted by the Children. Marriage is certainly a State and Condition, upon which the
Happineſs or Mifery of Life does very much depend; more than indeed moſt
People think upon before-hand. To be confined to live with one perpetually,
of whom we have no Liking and Eſteem, muſt certainly be a moſt uneafy State:
There had need be a great many good Qualities, to reconcile a conſtant Conver-
fation to one, even where there is fome fhare of Kindneſs and Affection; but,
without Love, the very best of all good Qualities will never make a conſtant
Converſation eaſy and delightful. And whence proceed thofe endleſs and innu-
merable Domeſtick Miferies, that plague and utterly confound fo many Families,
but from want of Love and Kindnefs in the Wife or Hufband? From thence
comes their Neglect, and careleſs Management of Affairs at Home, and their pro-
fuſe extravagant Expences made Abroad. In a word, it is not eafy, as it is not
needful, to recount the Evils that arife, abundantly, from the want of Conjugal
Affection only. And fince this is fo certain, a Man or Woman runs the moſt
fearful Hazard that can be, who Marries without this Affection in themſelves, and
without good Affurance of it in the other. And fince it is impoffible for any
one to love with another's Affections, but with their own, the Parents muſt con→
fider this eſpecially, how they engage their Children to Marry, where, at the leaſt,
a hopeful Proſpect of this Love doth not appear; left, whilſt they are endeavour-
ing to make their Children happy, they make them of all Creatures the moſt
miſerable; and make them irremediably fo. If there be Reaſon, that
young Peo-
ple ſhould be left in any Thing to themſelves, and to their own Liberty, it ſeems
to be in the Choice of thofe, with whom they are to live and die; with whom
they are to venture being happy or unhappy all their Days. It is, without doubt,
in nothing fo neceffary as in Marriage. Do you not know (faith one of old) that
Marriages belong to us our felves, and must be matter of our Choice? Our Affections
are our Maſters, not our Servants; and you cannot with all your Power and Might,
nor by your frequently reiterated Orders and Commands, caufe me to Love or Hate
where you ſhall fix; nor is it in my Power to Obey you if I would. Then is Marriage
like to be laftingly happy, when both agree in Loving each the other: And therefore
Since I am to have a Wife, the Partner of my Bed, and of all the Joys and Sorrows
that are likely to befal me, whilft I live; I muſt ſeek for one that I can like (I think)
for ever.
I do not ſay, that this is all as reaſonable as it fhould be, but there is
Reafon enough in it, to make the Parents very careful and confidering, that they
urge not their Authority too far, in conſtraining their Children to Marry, not only
where there is no vifible Averfion, but where there is great Likelihood that there
will not be a good Agreement.
As for the Cuſtom and the Practice of the Jews, and all the Eafterlings, together
with the Greeks and Romans, they do, indeed, fufficiently evidence the Power and
Authority that Parents exerciſed in the Diſpoſal of their Children; but they do
not, for all that, fhew the Reaſonableneſs of fuch Authority; nor is it of the Law
of Nature fo to do. And befides, they had fome of them Power of Life and
Death, and did ſometimes expoſe, and might, by Allowance, fell their Children into
Slavery; which are Privileges that do not naturally or reaſonably attend the Pa-
rental Authority and Relation: And therefore there is great Abatement to be made
from all Arguments, that conclude only from Cuftoms and Ufages, though of
wife and civilized People.
The Roman Law-givers, (faith a Gracian, S. Empir) have put the Children, in
the Parents Power, in the fame Capacity with Slaves; the Parents are the Maſters
of them, and all they have, till they are emancipated as Slaves are, which other
People
.
Duty of Children to Parents.
223
People look upon as Tyrannical. The Roman Laws (fays another, Simplic. in Epict.)
having regard, as well to the Natural Superiority of Parents, as to the Care and
Pains the Parents take about their Children; and willing alſo that the Children
ſhould be ſubject to their Parents, without Exception; and truſting alſo, I believe,
to their Natural Affection, gave them, not only Power to fell their Children, but
alſo to put them to Death, if they faw fit. I fee no Reaſon to think, that Pa-
rents are, by Nature, Mafters of the Liberty and Life of the Children; and if the
Laws of any Kingdom make them ſo, they had their Reafons probably for fo
doing, and ought to be obeyed: But there is no inferring that the Children of
other Kingdoms, where no fuch Laws have Being, are obliged to the fame Obe-
dience: And therefore, though the Nations Abroad had abfolutely the Command
of their Children, fo as to difpofe of them in Marriage, how and where they
pleafed; yet is not their Example fufficient to juftify a Parent in doing the like,
any farther than the Thing is otherwife fit among us; and Children, with us, are
not tied to fuch a ſtrict Obedience, in this fingle Point, only becauſe the Children
of the Jews, or Greeks, or Romans might be.
And befides, Regard is to be had to the Customs of the Country. The Jews, as
all the People of the Eaft, fpeaking generally, did not fuffer the Women to go
Abroad as ours do; they went to vifit a Relation, or a near Friend, and that ſpa-
ringly, and mixed not with common Company; which, with the Modeſty pecu-
liar to that Sex, deprived them of the Opportunities of difpofing of themſelves;
fo that their Parents only muft or could difpofe of them; and when they were
once Married, they kept very much at Home, and faw but little ſtrange Company.
The Greeks and Romans feem to have had more Liberty; but yet, as well as I can
gueſs, not near ſo much as ours have. This, I take it, ought to make ſome little
Difference; for if the Cuſtoms of a Country allow the Women Liberty to ſee, and
to be feen of all, both before and after Marriage; they make it fomewhat more
reaſonable for them to chooſe their Partners, with whom they are to live, not in
Confinement, but at Liberty; that they may not afterwards diflike their Partners;
nor be betrayed, by fuch their Liberty, into new Liking and Defires of thoſe they
never can obtain. And, for the Sons of theſe old People, there is yet more Reaſon,
why they ſhould be entirely at the Diſpoſal of their Parents, than the Daughters ;
and that, becauſe Marriage was not half fo grievous to them, for they were al-
lowed more Wives than one; and Divorces were cheap and eafy; and they took
great
Liberties befides, with whom they could: And therefore if they liked not the
Condition or Perſon of a Wife, they either wandred from her Bed, and took un-
lawful Courſes, (which they might do, it was fo common, without much Scandal
or ill Fame) or elſe they quickly found occafion for Divorce. And therefore to
be Married by their Parents, although againſt their Liking, and Confent, was no
great Hardſhip; the Cuſtoms of the Nation, and the Licence of the Times, gave
them a world of Liberty And this made it much more reaſonable for the Sons
to be entirely at their Parents Difpofal, than the Daughters.
S
But the Cafe of Chriſtians is much otherwife; they have no Liberty allowed
of any kind; Chrift hath obliged them to love each other, and no other, even till
Death: Each Chriftian Pair is now reduced to their original Standard, and are to
be, as Eve and Adam were to each the other, faithful and kind, without fo much
as hope of changing. This makes it to be infinitely more the Intereft and Concern
of Chriftians, to look they Marry none but whom they love, and ſtill intend to
love, than of other People, whoſe Laws and Cuſtoms allowed them greater Liber-
ties; And therefore it is not altogether fair, to urge the Inftances and Examples
of theſe fort of People too far in a Chriftian Kingdom; for they might much
more
4:
224
Duty of Children to Parents.
{
more reaſonably (becaufe more eafily) fubmit to the Will and Commands of their
Parents, than Chriftians in fome Cafes of Marriage can. And when Parents re-
member that their Commands are to lay Obligations on their Children, that will
laft when they themselves are dead and gone; and from which they never can be
freed, though all the Evils in the World fhould happen to them; they will be
cautious and ſparing how they lay fuch Commands upon them, againſt their In-
clination and Liking. However, there will always be fome Difference betwixt
Childrens refufing, with all Submiffion and Reſpect, to comply with the Commands
of their Parents, in marrying fuch whom they are fure they do not love; and their
marrying where they will, without the Confent, or againſt the Commands of their
Parents. The Difobedience of the one is much more pardonable and pitiable than
the Diſobedience of the other; becauſe it is much more in People's Power to
keep themſelves free from engaging their Affections, than it is to fettle them
where other People pleafe: And to refufe to marry where commanded, is not fo
likely to do any Injury, or Diſhonour, as to marry againſt Command, is to do both
or either. And yet, in Excufe of fuch Difobedience, as marrying of themſelves,
Reſpect and Confideration are to be had to People's Age and Condition.
The Cuſtoms of the World, and Reafon, confent in giving People ftill more
Liberty, the older they grow: They are not to be Maſters of themſelves whilſt
young, becauſe their Reafon and Underſtanding are imperfect; they have not Judg-
ment enough to confider what is good or evil for them; their Paffions and Affec-
tions are ſtrong and prevalent, and always looking towards Pleafure; and they
have not Confideration enough to correct or check the Diſorders of their Will, and
Defires: And if theſe be the true Caufes why they ought to be fubject to the Will
and Commands of Parents and Superiors, whilft young, it is but fit, that as theſe
wear off, and Reaſon and Underſtanding, and Judgment fucceed, their Chains fhould
alſo wear away, and their Reſtraint be leffened, and they ſhould grow up to full
Liberty. This, we fee, is generally allowed in fecond Marriages: The firſt does ſo
emancipate and free the Children from the Father's Power, that it is not account-
ed Difobedience, when they marry the fecond Time without Confent. Now
this is not, becauſe the Parents are no longer Parents, nor the Children tied to
dutiful Obedience; but becauſe that greater Age and Reaſon make Folks fitter to
confider themſelves, and to look after their own Affairs. It is indeed a Maxim,
That they, who are once emancipated and fet free, do never return to Servi-
tude; and therefore the Children, being once freed from their Parents Autho-
rity by Marriage, come not again under their Power, as to a fecond Marriage:
But, I believe, that Fullness of Age, Maturity of Judgment, Sobriety and Staid-
nefs of Mind and Temper, are better Reaſons for Children's Liberty, and Ex-
emption from fome Commands of their Parents, than their being once married:
For if a Minor marry diſobediently, and be afterwards fet at liberty by his
Partner's Death, whilft he is ftill young and under Age, whatever the Laws
may do, yet Reafon certainly fubjects him to his Parents Power, in the Choice of
a fecond Wife, as it did of the firft: He is not emancipated by his firſt Folly and
Difobedience, he ftill wants the Care and Tutelage of his Parents; fo that it is,
at the Bottom, Age, and Diſcretion, and Ability to look after themſelves, which do
exempt the Children from the Subjection of their Parents in Matters that are fo
perfonal, and ſo much the Childrens own Concern and Intereft. And therefore Pa-
rents are eſpecially to have regard to the Age and Wiſdom of their Children; and
the Childrens Difobedience, in theſe Cafes, will be more or lefs excufable, as
Age and Wiſdom fet them more at Liberty.
And ſometimes it will fo happen, that the Childrens marrying theinfelves, will
be in fome Meaſure excufable by the Parents Neglect and Backwardneſs of taking
fuch
Duty of Children to Parents.
225
fuch Care, as is but neceffary in many of thofe Cafes; and therefore fome Laws
have left the Children wholly at their Liberty to marry at fuch an Age, if their
Parents looked not after it before. Thefe, and many other Things, may be faid
in Behalf of Children, either refufing to marry fuch as their Parents command them
to marry, or that Marry according to their own liking againſt Command. And
there is fo much to be faid on both Sides, and fo many Things to be confidered
particularly on each, that it is neither fafe, nor true, to affirm, that all Parents, in
all Caſes, have a Right to the Compliance and Obedience of their Children; or
that all Children are at Liberty to marry and difpofc of themſelves, without their
Parents; for neither of theſe Propofitions are unexceptionably true. Parents have
a greater Power; but they muſt uſe it, (as truly moft generally they will, and do)
like Parents, i. e. tenderly and kindly: And Children have a great Duty; but they
are not tied like Slaves in all Cafes, and with Bonds that will last for ever: But
when they do not obey, they muſt do it with Unwillingneſs, and great Reluctance;
and it must be in Cafes of great and lafting Moment and Concern, and fuch, as,
when repreſented to fair and equal, wife and underſtanding People, they may find
themſelves both pitied for their Trial, and approved for their Refolution: That
thofe, who would be glad that Children fhould obey their Parents, may ſee it
reaſonable they ſhould not be obeyed in theſe Particulars; for to fay what the Truth
is, the Affections of Parents are generally fo ftrong, and their Intentions fo good
towards their Children, that the Prefumption of Right is generally on their Side;
and the Cauſe of the Children had need be very juft and righteous, and apparent-
ly reaſonable and good, when they difpute or contend with Parents; becauſe the
Biafs of the whole World is, with much Reafon, on their Side againſt the Children,
The Sum of what has been faid, amounts, I think, to this: When the certain
Laws of God, and the Laws of the Land, and of our Superiours, lay their Com-
mands or Prohibitions on them, the Parents have nothing to do but to forward
the Obedience of their Children; they are not to injoin them any thing prejudi-
cial to the Obligations they lie under to God and to their Country, nor to com-
mand them in Oppofition to them: And when they do, they are not to be heard
or underſtood; the Children are to go on fteadily in their Duty to both, and to
miſtake their Parents Orders, with Submiffion and Reſpect, and Tenderneſs. And
in the Cafe of Marriages, the Parents are to take all due Care, to fee their Chil-
dren well diſpoſed of, according to their Age and Quality, and Tempers; remem-
bring they are then laying the Grounds and Foundation of their Happineſs or Mi-
fery; and not to let the Confideration of Fortune and Eſtate ſo preponderate and
over-weigh all other Confiderations of Form and Favour, Birth and Education,
Virtue and good Qualities, as to neglect them all: And when the Parents have
done this, the Children are to obey as far as poffibly they can; the little Ob-
jections of the Fancy, and the Niceties that are commonly made on thefe Occa-
fions, muſt yield to the mature Deliberations of the Parents. It were beſt, and
moſt to be wiſhed undoubtedly, that both the Parents and the Children might
chooſe, i. e. that each ſhould approve the other's Choice: And that, as Homer fays
of Penelope, fhe might be beſtowed by her Father, upon whom he pleaſed, for
otherwiſe they will not both be eaſy: And when that comes to paſs, the Autho-
rity of Parents, and the Duty of Children, are both fecured and reconciled.
But if this will not be, there will go near to be fome Fault on one Side: If
the Parent offer what the Child cannot poffibly affent to, and what the Neigh-
bourhood, and wife and unconcerned Perfons blame, condemn and reject, upon
a competent and reaſonable Information of the whole Proceedings; if fuch Refufal
of the Offer be made with Decency, and great Humility, upon the Childrens Part,
2 O
it
226
Duty of Children to Parents,
it will not fall under the Head of Sinful Difobedience: They may ftand off with
in
Innocence and Safety, and yet may Honour, as they ought, their Father and their
Mother. But if fuch Offer be made by the Parents, as a wife and good Man,
the like Cafe and Circumftances; may make, without Folly and without Injury;
and there be nothing handfome or material to object, and fuch as would fatisfy a
wife and fober, and impartial Man; the Duty of Children fo refufing will not
be Safe; they muft, for ought I fee; obey their Parents in thefe Cafes. And if
Children, who are under Age, and wholly in their Father's Cuſtody and Power,
and Part of his Houſe and Family, will venture to engage themſelves, without the
Confent, or againſt the Commands of their Parents; to their Difhonour, or their
Prejudice, they will be guilty of finful Difobedience, and muſt ſeek the Forgive-
nefs they will want, both at God's, and their Parents Hands. How far Obedience
in thefe Cafes is alfo due to the Mothers, by vertue of this Commandment, both
whilft the Father lives, and afterwards; I intend, if it pleafe God, to fhew, with
other Particulars, in the following Diſcourſe.
DISCOURSE III
H
EXOD. xx. VERSE 12.
Duty of Children to Parents.
AVING fhewn the Neceffity there is, That Children ſhould be obe-
dient to, and governed by their Parents, in all Things, where they are at
Liberty by the Laws of God, and of their Country, and in common
Senſe and Reafon ought to be at Liberty; I am, before I leave this Head,
to ſpeak a little to the Authority of Mothers, and to the Obedience that is due to
them, both whilſt the Fathers are alive, and after they are dead. The Scriptures
make no manner of Difference betwixt the Obedience, Fear or Honour, due to
Parents; the Mother is ftill included, ftill expreffed, with the Father: Honour thy
Father and Mother. He that fmiteth his Father or Mother, fhall furely be put to
Death, Exod. xxi. 15. He that curſeth his Father or Mother, fhall furely be put to
Death, Verfe 17. Ye shall fear every Man his Mother and Father. If a Man hath
a rebellious Son, which will not obey the Voice of his Father, or the Voice of his Mo-
ther, then ſhall his Father and his Mother lay hold on him, and fay, This our Son is
Stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our Voice, Deut. xxi. 18. And, Curfed be he
that fetteth light by his Father or his Mother, xxviii. 16. And, My Son, hear the In-
ftructions of thy Father, and forfake not the Law of thy Mother: And fo in many
other Places, where the fame Duty is required to be paid the Mother with the
Father; and, in Truth, there is equal Reaſon in moft Cafes, why we ſhould do ſo,
and in fome, greater. The Mothers undergo moſt Pain and Sorrow for them, bear
all the Trouble of their Infancy and Childhood, do all they can for them, and in-
tend them much more; have at the leaſt the ſame, but generally a much greater
Affection to them, and the fame Intereft and Concern for their Good and Wel-
fare. And therefore, in Nature, and true Reafon and Gratitude, the Children are
obliged to make no Difference betwixt the Father and Mother, in their Obſervance
and Obedience of, and to them,
But
Duty of Children to Parents.
227
✔
But becauſe the Father is alfo fuperior to the Mother, both in Natural Strength,
in Wiſdom, and by God's Appointment; and that there is no obeying contrary
Commands; therefore the Children are eſpecially to obey the Fathers, in Cafes
where they have Power to command, and where they cannot obey both Parents
together: They must never obey one Parent to the Prejudice of the other: The
Father has no right to command the Children any thing undutiful, diſreſpectful,
or injurious to the Mother; but if it happen that the Inclinations or Defires of Mo-
thers fhould differ from thofe of the Fathers, in the Choice of Trade, or Calling,
or in Matches for the Children, or other things of Moment; fo that the Children
muſt diſpleaſe one Parent by complying with the other; the Father is the fuperior
Authority, and muſt be obeyed; becauſe both the Laws of God and Man have
fubjected the Wife to the Hufband: She is not prefumed to have a Will contrary
to her Huſband's; and therefore the Child difobeys not his Mother, who obeys
his Father's Command, becauſe the Mother is to be obedient alfo: And the Cafe is
not very much altered, although the Father do not lay exprefs Command
upon the
the Child; but is paffive and content, likes and approves the Choice he makes,
although the Mother be wholly averſe to it: In ſuch a Cafe the Father is to be
regarded, for he is the proper Superiour.
•
But when the Mother is the only Parent, then her Authority increaſes, and the
is then folely to be regarded: But the Civil Laws do generally free the Sons at fuch
an Age, fuppofing them the Mafters of the Family; and, by the Advantage of
their Sex and Education, fit to govern, and difpofe of themſelves and their Affairs.
The Daughters are, indeed, kept longer in Subjection, fuppofed to want the Care
and Wiſdom of the Parents longer; but growing up to liberty, as they advance in
Years and Underſtanding. There can, indeed, be no exact Rules in any ſuch Caſes ;
for the Wiſdom of either Parent, or Children, muft neceffarily make fome Alte-
ration in the meaſures of Obedience, in reſpect to fome Commands which relate
fo nearly to the Children, as Marriage eſpecially does.
And even in Cafes where the Sons and Daughters may be reaſonably prefumed
at Liberty, and would otherwiſe take and uſe that Liberty; yet, unleſs it be a
Matter of great Moment, it ſhould not eaſily be ventured on, to the Mother's
great Sorrow; for the Grief of Parents is not to be occafioned cheaply and light-
ly; much will be fuffered by a dutiful good-natured Child, before he will afflict
and grieve his Rarent: And fince this is eſpecially the Infirmity and Feebleneſs of
Mothers, the Children are obliged to greater Care and Circumfpection in their Beha-
viour towards them, to prevent their Sorrows; for every thing that gives them
Grief, is a fort of Difobedience. I will end this whole Matter with forewarning
Children of what will certainly come to paſs; and that is, that they will never
be able to remember any Act of Difobedience to their Parents, without much
Trouble and Remorfe, without great Sorrow and Concern of Mind: It will dwell
continually upon them, and haunt them like an Evil Spirit; they will wiſh a thou-
fand times, they had behaved themſelves more dutifully, kindly, and obediently;
and rather gone without their Defires, than have occafioned any Trouble or Sorrow
to their Parents.
The laſt thing that Children owe their Parents, is Support and Sustenance; and
this is evidently comprehended under the word Honour. God commanded, (faith our
Saviour, Matth. xv. 4.) faying, Honour thy Father and Mother; and he that curſeth
Father or Mother, let him die the Death. But ye fay, Whosoever shall fay to his Fa-
ther or Mother, it is Corban, i. e. a:Gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by
me, and Honour not his Father and his Mother, he ſhall be free. And ye fuffer him no
more to do ought for his. Father or his Mother, as it is in St. Mark vii. 12. God com-
manded
228
Duty of Children to Parents.
•
+
manded the Jews to honour their Parents: But the Scribes and Pharifees, their
Tradition, had fometimes made the Command of no Effect, by teaching the Peo
ple, that if once they had devoted their Eſtate to God's Service, or to the Service of
the Temple, either to purchaſe Wood, or Frankincenfe, or Doves, or any thing
uſed about the Altar, if they had confecrated their Eſtate to Holy Uſes, they were
thereby diſcharged from fuccouring their Parents, when they came to ſtand in
need; ſo that if either Father or Mother came to want their very Bread and daily
Suſtenance, the Children might refuſe it them, and fay --- No, it is Corban; that, by
which thou mighteſt have been profited by me, is a Gift: The Eftate, wherewith
I might have fuccoured and fupported you, is Corban, it is devoted to the Service
of God and his Temple; and I may not facrilegiouſly take away ought devoted to
Holy Uſes; to feed my Parents: And thus, faith Chrift, you make void a certain
Command of God, by a Tradition of your own, and ſet the Children free from
honouring their Parents: Which he expreffes in St. Mark, Thus ye Juffer them not
to do ought for their Father and Mother. From whence it appears very plainly,
that to Honour Parents, comprehends the fuccouring and fupporting them, under
their Burthens and Neceffities; and that this fifth Commandment certainly enjoyns
the doing ſo to all Children. So the word Honour is taken in the 1 Tim. v. 3, and
17 Verjes.
Honour Widows, that are Widows indeed; i. e. Let the Widows, who are
in want, and behave themſelves foberly and diſcreetly, and chaftly, be relieved and
maintained amongſt you. And let the Elders, that rule well, be counted worthy of
double Honour, eſpecially they who labour in the Word and Doctrine. Let the Mini-
fters, that perform their Duties well and wifely, as they ſhould, be accounted wor-
thy of a Maintenance better than ordinary: Not that the Jews were at all in-
clined to be unnatural to their Parents, or to deny them what they wanted; but
that fuch a Doctrine might conſtrain them to be ſo, if believed: And our Saviour's
Difcourfe is particularly directed againſt the corrupt Gloffes and the falfe Traditions
of the Scribes and Pharifees.
The Jews were remarkably kind and tender to
a common faying with them, you must Honour God
"
it; but you muft Honour your Parents, whether you
their Parents in Diſtreſs. It was
with your Subftance, if you have
have it or no, for you must beg
for them: And more than that, you must work, though it were in the publick Houfes
of Correction, to help your Parents. This, I believe, was the Foundation of the Pa-
rents Power to fell their Children; it muſt be, either when they knew they could
not be maintained but by fuch Sale, or when they could not themſelves maintain
their Children; and therefore fold them, that they might live. The Practice is
too barbarous and unnatural, to be ſupported by any other Ground, or Reaſon;
nothing but fuch extream Neceffity could make it tolerable: Such a Power is not
then ſtrictly Juft; but the Exerciſe of it is excufable, becauſe it is unavoidable.
But all thefe Things are determinable by the Civil Laws of Nations; and there-
fore they differ in feveral Countries: But all agree in exacting and commanding
the Relief and Suítenance of Parents. We must Honour our Parents exceedingly,
faith Hierocles, affording them the Service of our Bodies, and the use of our Wealth
most chearfully. And amongst the Romans, if a Son were quite emancipated and
free from his Father's Government; yet if his Father came to want, and were denied
Relief by his Son, the Son, for his Ingratitude, was to return again into his Father's
Service, and never to be freed again. By Solon's Law, the Son indeed might deny
this Aliment and Suftenance to his Father, in cafe his Father had neglected fo to
educate the Son, as to have put him in a way of making fuch Provifion for his
indigent Parent: If he had neither put him out to any Trade, nor taught him
how to get his Living, it was prefumed the Father had in a Manner expoſed him
to
}
Duty of Children to Parents.
229
to Mifery; and therefore deferved not the Return of Love and Kindnefs he had
never fhewn. But this was only to conftrain the Parent to look after the Educa-
tion of his Children, to make them thereby the more uſeful Members of the Com-
mon-wealth : It exempted the Children from the legal Penalties that otherwiſe might
be inflicted on fuch unnatural Refufal; but it took not away the Obligation the
Children had, by Nature, to provide for their diftreffed Parents. Even this fevere
Law tied not the Children to be cruel and undutiful; but intended to puniſh the
Parents Folly and Neglect, by leaving it to the Children to deal with their Parents
as they pleaſed, which otherwiſe they might not do, but were obliged to provide
for them. For this Support and Maintenance of Parents, is a Thing fo naturally
and neceffarily due, that no Laws can tie the Children not to afford it, according
to their beſt Abilities. It would be due even to a Traitor, and profcribed; that is,
bare Suſtenance would be due from Children to their Parents, in fuch hard Cafes.
Theſe are the Duties Children owe their Parents; Love, Respect or Honour, Obe-
dience and Support of all Kinds, whenever they ſtand in need of it; and all of
them comprehended under Honouring them, all of them injoined to Children in this
Command---- Honour thy Father and thy Mother.
But becauſe the Cafe of going to Law with Parents, is what does fometimes hap-
pen, and yet would not properly fall under any of the forementioned Heads, and yet
deferves to be confidered, it may not be unfeaſonable to ſpeak a little to it, before
I go on to the Promiſe and Encouragement annexed by God, to the Honouring
of our Father and Mother.
If therefore the Inquiry be, Whether it be lawful at any Time, for any Caufe,
for Children to call their Parents into queſtion before the Civil Magiſtrate or Judge:
It is to be anſwered affirmatively; but with many Reſtrictions. It is certain that
Parents have a great Authority, but it is as certain that they may abuſe it: They
are not incapable of doing Injury. It is alſo certain, that Children are to be very
Jubject to their Parents; but as fure alſo, that they are not Slaves, but may receive
Injury. And whoever can fuffer wrong, may alſo be righted: The Laws of God
do no where forbid this; and the Laws of the Land are free and impartial; they
make no Difference of Perſons, and know no Relation; Juſtice is, in this Reſpect,
to be blind: And therefore it is certain, that, in fome Cafes, a Son or Daughter
may, without Offence of God's Law, appeal to the Laws of the Land, againſt
their Parents.
In cafe of Alimony, if the Parent be fo unnatural as to deny the Child its Food
and Rayment, the Remedy at Law may be justly implored; and no one would
charge, with undutiful and diſobedient Carriage, a Child that ſhould implore Af-
fiſtance in fuch Cafe. So if a Parent ſhould fo cruelly uſe a Child as to diſmember
it, or make it lame, or do it any other lafting Miſchief, the Child might very juſtly
make the Caſe known to the Magiftrate, and beg his Favour and Affiſtance. In
theſe, and ſuch like Cafes, the common Senſe and Pity of Mankind would teach
us, that fuch Complaint were not a Breach of Childrens Duty to Parents, but very
confiftent with it. And yet this is one Way of Childrens going to Law with their
Parents. But here, the Occafion must be, we fee, exceeding great and preffing,
and viſibly, to wife impartial People, reaſonable and juft. It is not allowed to
make even theſe Complaints, upon any flight Miſchief; it must be ſharp, and very
near intolerable, before the Children muſt appeal to Magiftrates: For though there
are no pofitive Laws; yet Reafon, Cuſtom, and Confent of People, give fuch Power
of Caſtigation and Correction to Parents, that the Laws forbid to any one beſides;
prefuming always, that the Occafion will be very juft, and the Provocation very
great, when the Parents proceed to much Severity; the Laws ftill truft, as well
they
2 P
230
.
Duty of Children to Parents།་
they may, a great deal to the Parental Kindneſs and Affection: And yet they ſee
fometimes, that there is need of interpofing their Authority, and hindring Paffion
from proceeding to Extremities. And, in all fuch Cafes, the Children are to aſk
for nothing but Relief and Eafe to themſelves; no Hardſhip, Penalty or Puniſh-
ment, is to be fought for, to the Parent, by them; that would be impious Cruelty
indeed: No Thought of Revenge must come into their Minds: They will be mi-
ferable enough in having fuch Parents as will provoke them to fly from them, for
Succour, to a Stranger, without the Trouble and Uneafineſs of ſeeing them mife-
rable, and fuffering any Evil.
any
And as for Matters of Contract, Eftate, Inheritance, or Money, it must not be
for fmall Matter, nor for a light Injury, nor any Thing eafy to be born, that
a Child can implead his Parent; the Hardſhip muſt be near intolerable; the In-
juſtice great and preffing, when a wife indifferent Man, or a Man's own Conſcience
can permit him to go to Law with his Father or Mother. We are obliged, as
Chriſtians, to bear fomewhat at every one's Hands, and little Injuries are the leaft
we can forgive to one another. And common Senfe and Reaſon will tell one, he
is certainly obliged to bear more from a Parent, than from any other: And there-
fore the Provocation and Neceffity must be exceeding great and violent, when it is not
to be paffed over with Patience and Submiffion by the Children. It ſhould there-
fore be plain and viſible to all confidering People, that the Parent is very much
in the Wrong, doing a manifeſt Injuftice, violating the Laws of Nature, and put-
ting off the Parental Love and Tenderneſs, before a Child ſhould publickly conteſt
at Law: The Neighbourhood, and World around, ſhould be convinced of the Pa-
rents Iniquity, and fee the Injury intended, or done, to be intolerable, and ſee withal
the Neceffity of feeking Redreſs at the Hands of publick Juſtice, before the Children
do it. Publick Fame ſhould go before, and prepare the Minds and Ears of all that
ſhall hear it; ſo that every one ſhould pity the Childrens Cafe, in having to deal with
ſo injurious Parents, and be concerned to wiſh them Succeſs: By all which I mean
to ſay, that the Juſtice of the Childrens Cauſe muſt be notorious, and the Injury
done them manifeftly great, and grievous to them, before they are permitted, by
their Duty, Decency, and Religion, to go to Law with their Parents.
The Duty, indeed, is ſomewhat altered in the Cafe of Mothers, when they haſten
to fecond Marriages, apparently prejudicial to their Children.
The Neceffity of
going to Law with them, is more frequent and more urgent than with Fathers, or
with Mothers ftill continuing in the State of Widowhood; becauſe they ſeem to
have tranflated their Affection and Intereft to another Family; and moſt of the
Comforts and Conveniencies arifing from fuch conteſted Money or Eftate, go tơ
Strange People, to whom the Children have no Obligation: And therefore that Piety
in Children, that would permit the Mother to enjoy, in Peace and Quiet, what
was perhaps in Juftice none of her's, need not fometimes be fcrupulous of reco-
vering it from her, fince the herſelf would have the leaft Advantage by it; but it
would go to utter Strangers.
While the continues in a State of Widowhood, ſhe is their Mother ſtill, and they
are all of one Piece and Family; fhe is prefumed to intend nothing but their Ad-
vantage, and all ſhe has is looked upon as theirs: And therefore if ſhe, through
covetous Defire, or through Miſtake, or Peeviſhneſs, will needs retain what does
not properly belong to her, the Children, if it can confift with their Welfare by
any Means, will be content to bear with fo much Lofs, or Diſappointment, for
the Prefent, fince it will certainly be theirs at laft, rather than give their Parent
an unneceffary Grief and Trouble, by going to Law. But when a new Affection,
and a new Engagement intervene, then all the Profpect is diſturbed: They fee
new
Duty of Children to Parents.
23 1
new Intereſts rifing, and the new Wife is fuppofed to make herſelf as acceptable
as ſhe can to her new Choice, by bearing with her all the Advantages of Fortune
ſhe can get together; and in fuch Cafes does, too oft, forget her Children, and
her former Love. In this Cafe the Children are much more at Liberty to purfue
their juft Rights, than otherwiſe they would be; becauſe, as I faid, the Advantages
of forbearing would not accrue fo much to the Parent, as to an utter Stranger, tó
whom the Children have little or no Obligation.
And yet, in this Cafe, the Children must confider well, and take good Care,
that they be not overbiaffed by this cómmon Prejudice, That fecond Marriages are
always prejudicial to the Childrens Rights and Interefts; for it is not always ſo, though
it is too often: And therefore the Injury must be great and fure, as before; that
will juſtify the Children in their contending with their Mother, though ſhe has
now forgot their Father's Houſe and Family. But both in this, and all other Caſes,
when the Reaſon is great and manifeft, and the Occaſion juſt and unavoidable; the
Suit is to be managed with all the Care and Tenderneſs imaginable. Conteſts at
Law are very ſeldom managed with ordinary and common Charity; they are full
of Reproach, and full of Scandal: Few People think of any thing but vexing and
afflicting their Adverfaries; and therefore have their Eyes and Ears continually openi
to the Faults and Afperfions of their Enemies, glad to hear them reprefented ill,
and willing to believe them fo; as if they were themſelves advantaged by it. They
are perpetually contriving and inventing how to leffen one another, and gain to
themſelves Credit, at the other's Expence: This makes the Law very hazardous,
few People go out fo innocent as they enter; they begin with Defire of Juſtice,
and end with a Defire of Miſchief: They begin with Calmneſs, and a tender Re-
gard to their Adverfary; but proceed with Anger, and increaſe to Malice, and end;
too often, with impatient Longings for Revenge. Thus it is moft commonly;
when People, that are Strangers, or little known to each the other, go to Law to-
gether. One would hope that it ſhould not be fo with Friends and Relations; but
that their natural Ties of Love fhould lay Reſtraint upon their Paffions, and keep
them in better Order. But it is rather all the contrary; they try at firft, it may
be, to moderate and keep themſelves in good Temper; but they quickly fly out
into Exceſs, recriminate, complain of, and reproach each other, with more Sharp-
neſs and Ill-will, than other People; and, knowing more of each other, they are
apt to proclaim more Secrets, and confequently meet with much more Credit and
Belief, and confequently do each other much more Miſchief. And it is ſtill worſe,
the nearer thefe Relations are to each the other; when Children and their Parents
ſtrive, there is a world of Danger of ill Confequences.
It muſt needs be uneafy to the Parents, to be fufpected of Injuſtice, and ill De-
fign againſt their own Children, and to be charged in Publick of being fo: And it
muſt needs be uneafy to the Child; to think of ſtriving with the Parent, and to
believe the Parent ill-intentioned towards him: But this Contention does too fre-
quently betray the Child into unkind, undutiful, and hard Expreffions; and often-
times the Parent to angry Curfes, and fearful Imprecations, which both good Chil-
dren, and good Parents, would by all means avoid. The Fear of Injury, and Hope
of Victory, do fo exafperate Peoples Minds, that it is the Senfe of thefe ill Confe-
quences makes the going to Law of Children with their Parents fo affrightful: And
makes it fo much more eligible to endure a great Hardſhip, and confiderable In-
jury, than ſeek for Remedy at Law, to the hazarding fo much Miſchief as does
frequently enfue in fuch unkind Contentions. What Joy of Victory can be to either
Side, when they muſt be afhamed, confounded, and, it may be, much prejudiced,
whom we are tied, of all Folks living, to honour moft, and do the beſt Service to.
But
?
}
232
Duty of Children to Parents.
But after all, let one be never fo much inclined to favour, and fecure the Rights
and the Refpects of Parents, as Nature, Reafon, Decency, the Laws of God and
Man require; yetwhen the Parents put off natural Affection, and have no regard to
Honefty and Juftice; but follow blindly and perverfly their own Humour, and will
not be adviſed by wife and fober, and impartial People, to do that Right to Chil-
dren which both the Laws of God and Man require, and call for at their Hands;
no one can reaſonably condemn the Children that implore the Affiſtance of the
Laws and Magiftrates, to get themſelves redreffed: Provided they do it by Neceffity,
with Tenderneſs, and all the Reſpect and Honour poffible, never aggravating any
thing done, any farther than there is need to their own Vindication; of which
they muſt not yet be over-tender, to the Diſparagement and great Blame of their
Parents: They ought to be exceeding careful to conceal the Faults and the Mif-
carriages of them. I do not fee, but the fame Piety would have endeavoured to
cover Noah's Cruelty, or Injustice, or Perverſeneſs, had he been guilty of them, that
was fo careful to conceal his Nakedness and Folly, for they are alfo the Shame and
Nakedneſs of the Underſtanding; and fuch Infirmities of the Mind no leſs diſho-
nourable than thoſe of the Body, which no one likes to diſcover in their Parents
and Relations.
It remains, in the laft place, that I confider the Promife and Encouragement an-
nexed to the Performance of this Commandment: Honour thy Father and Mother,
that thy Days may be long in the Land, which the Lord thy God giveth thee. It is
certain, that the Land here mentioned was Canaan; and therefore, that this Pro-
mife was particularly made to the Children of Ifrael. And it is alfo certain, that
this Promiſe of long Life was alfo made to them upon the Fulfilling the rest of
God's Commands, as well as this; the Book of Deuteronomy is full of this Promife:
See, faith God, xxx. 16. I have fet before thee this Day, Life and Good, Death and
Evil: In that I command thee this Day to love the Lord thy God, to walk in his Ways,
and to keep his Commandments, and his Judgments, and his Statutes, that thou mayst
live and multiply; and the Lord thy God fhall bless the in the Land, whither thou goeft
to poſſeſs it. So in xxxii. 47. Set your Hearts unto all the Words which I teftify among
you this Day, which ye shall command your Children to obferve, to do all the Words
of this Law: For it is not a vain thing for you, becauſe it is your Life: And, through this
thing, you ſhall prolong your Days in the Land whither ye go over Jordan to poſſeſs it :
And fo in iv. 40. v. 33, Ye shall walk in all the Ways which the Lord your God hath
commanded you, that ye may live, and that it may be well with you, and that you may
prolong your Days in the Land which ye shall poffefs. So in vi. 2. xi. 9. xxv. 15.
other Places; and fo long Life is promiſed to a King that governeth well, in Deut.
xvii. 20. and in xxii. 7. But thou shalt in any wife let the Dam go, and take the
Young to thee, that it may be well with thee, and that thou mayeft prolong thy Days.
And fo, fhort Life is threatned to Idolatry in Deut. iv. 26. and xxx. 18. From all
which Places it appears, that long Life is as well promiſed to the Performance of
other Commands of God, as to this of honouring Parents: But it alſo
appears, that
by long Life is not ſtrictly meant the living a great many Years, but the living
happily and well: Long Life is accounted a Bleffing, and therefore it is put to fig-
nify a Bleffing in the Scriptures; and in all theſe Places, it is as if God had ſaid;
you will live happily, and in my Love and Favour, in the Land to which you
are now going, obferve my Statutes, and keep my Commandments: That will fe-
cure to you all the Bleffings you expect, and I have promiſed to you, in the Land
of Canaan; whilft you do ſo, you fhall continue Maſters of your Enemies, and
live in Peace and Plenty. But if you fall from your Duty and Obedience, then I
will give you over into the Hands of your Enemies, and you fhall no longer live
If
and
in,
Duty of Children to Parents.
233
in, and enjoy this good Land, but be delivered over to Captivity: I denounce unto
you this Day, that
ye shall furely perish, and that ye shall not prolong your Days upon
the Land, whither thou paleft over Jordan to go to poffefs it: Deut. xxx. 18. The
Jews themſelves underſtand it no otherwiſe than of being in general bleſſed; and
where God faw convenient, he bleffed them with long Life in particular: For
long Life is, of itſelf, no Bleffing at all; and ſhort Life is generally no Evil, but
a Deliverance from much Evil. And the fhort Life of Children is not fo much a
Puniſhment to them, as to their Parents; and therefore for Children to be cut off,
untimely, for their Difobedience to their Parents, were to afflict the miſerable
Parents doubly; to cauſe them to loſe their Children, and to loſe them in Diſ-
obedience.
Such Puniſhment would indeed be very proper for the Parent, by whoſe Want of
careful, virtuous, and religious Education, the Child fhould become rebellious and
diſobedient; for then he would bear the Puniſhment of his own Fault; he would
then finart for his Folly, or his Neglect; and be afflicted, firſt, by a Difobedience,
and then by an immature Death, its Confequence; both which he might and
ought to have prevented. But, truly, when a Parent has been very careful to edu-
cate his Children well, and yet ſhall find them diſobedient and rébellious, and love
them notwithſtanding tenderly; for fuch a Parent to loſe theſe Children, would
look like a Hardſhip, and none alive but would conclude the Parent were rather
puniſhed than the Children; for though old Age may be a Bleffing, when attended
with other Bleffings; yet certainly for People to die young, can be no Puniſhment
to them, becauſe they feel no farther Mifery; Death puts an End to all their
Sufferings.
And as for the Pleaſures of this Life, from which they are cut off by Death ;
they, who live to enjoy them, know the Dead have loſt nothing; for (befides,
that it is no Pain to loſe what they never had) the Pleaſures of this Life are, at
the beſt, but just enough to fweeten Life, and make it tolerable: Life were not
worth the living without them; but they who live not, do not want them: And
if it were not for the Comfort, and the Benefit of Relations, and the doing Good
in the World, a fhort Life were a great Bleffing. The Inftance, that is commonly
brought to prove the Heathens alfo were of the Mind, that ſhort Life was a Pu-
niſhment of diſobedient Children, is that of Simoifius in Homer, who died very young,
becauſe he was Diſobedient, and would not ſupport his Parents. But this Inftance
is much miſtaken; for there Simoifius is lamented as one that died exceeding
young, and lived not to make the Returns of good Children to their Parents, for
all their Care and Tenderneſs beſtowed upon him. He made not Returns anſwer-
able to his dear Parents; for he died very young, and was diſabled by Death from
doing what he would otherwiſe have done, if he had lived. It is a common In-
ſtance, and therefore I chooſe to difprove it, becauſe the Heathens were not likely to
make any fuch Judgment of the immature Deaths of diſobedient Children, any other-
wife than by reckoning immature Deaths among the Misfortunes that befel Man-
kind, and a Token of the Divine Diſpleaſure; but, though due enough, yet no
more due to that Crime than any other: And therefore, when St. Paul applies this
Commandment, with this Promife of long Life, to the Chriſtians, in Eph. vi. 2,
3.
&
he ought to be underſtood in general of being bleſſed by God, fome way or other:
Honour thy Father and Mother, which is the first Commandment with Promife; i. e:
the firſt Commandment of the ſecond Table, and hath a Promiſe annexed to it:
Or the firſt Commandment with a ſpecial Promiſe, (for the ſecond Commandment
hath a Promiſe and a Threatning too, annexed to it, in the general) that it may
be well with thee, and thou mayeft live long on the Earth. His Defign is certainly to
encourage Children to honour and obey their Parents, and he repeats the Encourage-
2 Q
ment
234
Duty of Children to Parents.
ment God gave the Children of Ifrael; but he could not repeat it wholly in the
Senſe they took it in, becauſe Chriftians have nothing to do with Canaan: But it
muſt have another Senfe equivalent, and that is, that it may be well with thee, and
thou mayeft live happily, and in God's Favour, and he may bleſs thee with the
Bleffings thou ſhalt moſt ſtand in need of, and will be beft for thee; and, if that
be beſt for thee, that thou mayeft live long on the Earth.
We cannot therefore conclude, from the Promife annexed to this Command-
ment, that long Life will certainly follow upon the Children's Obedience to their
Parents: We must not understand that particular Bleffing to be certainly and uni-
verfally fixed to good Children: Every Day's Experience may convince us of the
contrary; for we fee the moſt obedient, dutiful, and moft refpectful Children,
carried off by haſty and untimely Ends, and fuch as gave the greateſt Hopes ima-
ginable. Neither yet may we conclude, that long Life is not fometimes beftow-
ed upon obedient Children, for it fometimes may be; it is not fixed, but it is not,
to be fure, excluded. Neither can we any ways conclude, that they, who arrive
to old Age, have therefore been obedient Children; for that is not likely to be true;
Experience is againſt it in too many Inſtances; there is a Sinner of an hundred Years
old: And therefore, from thefe Uncertainties, there can be no concluding with
Safety.
any
The Encouragements that Children have from this Commandment, and its Pro-
mife, are, That if long Life be moſt convenient for them, all their Cafe and Cir-
cumſtances confidered, they may expect it; but if it will not prove a Bleffing, (as
truly of itſelf it never will) then is not God unfaithful in this Promife, if he take
to himſelf, betimes, the beſt and moſt obedient Children; for he only promiſed
what would prove a Bleffing, when he promiſed long Life; and the Righteous are
fometimes taken away from the Evil to come; and then, to be fure, in Love and Kind-
nefs; and therefore long Life is not always a Bleffing, and therefore is not always pro-
mifed, for God deſigns to bleſs obedient Children. He will hear the Prayers of
their Parents; he will confirm their Bleffings: He will fometimes blefs them by
extraordinary Means and Methods; and oftner by ordinary, by bleffing their Care
and Labour, promoting their Induſtry, giving them Favour in the Sight of fuch as
ſhall be able to do them Service: He will cauſe their dutiful and good Behaviour to
their Parents, to ftand them in good ftead; and recommend them to the good
Opinion of others; there being indeed nothing that generally makes more accept-
able to all Sorts of People, than fuch obedient Carriage. Nothing becomes the
Rich and Noble better; nothing does fooner recommend the Poor and Mean to Fa-
vour and Employment, to Pity and Relief, than fuch Report of them, that they are
good and helpful to their Parents in Diſtreſs. When the Son of Syrach exhorteth
to be helpful to Parents, he tells the Children, they ſhall find their Accounts in fo
doing: My Son, help thy Father in his Age, and grieve him not as long as he liveth;
and if his Understanding fail, have Patience with him, and defpife him not, when thou
art in thy full Strength: For the relieving of thy Father ſhall not be forgotten; and
inſtead of Sins, it ſhall be added to build thee up: In the Day of Affliction it shall be
remembered; iii. 12. It will undoubtedly be remembredfor Good, both by God and
all good People. God will not only blefs obedient Children here, but he will bleſs
them with the Bleffings of another Country, of which the Land of Canaan, with
all its Beauty and Fertility, was but a poor and empty Shadow; even with the
Bleffing of eternal Life in Heaven, where our fhort Span ſhall be prolonged to ever-
lafting Ages, and where it ſhall be well for ever with us; where it will be our Plea-
fure and Reward to be perpetually loving, honouring, and obeying our eternal Pa-
rent, the great Creator and. Preferver of us all: Whom let us all befeech, in the
Words of the Church, to have Mercy upon us, and to incline our Hearts to keep this Law.
DISCOURSE
235
DISCOURSE IV.
And
ЁРНЕ
PHESIANS VI. VERSE 4:
ye Fathers provoke not your Children to Wrath; but bring
them up in the Nurture and Admonition of the Lord.
H
AVING already treated of the Duty of Children to their Parents, and
confidered fome of the moft proper Cafes, in that Relation: I am now
to ſpeak a little to the Advice that St. Paul here gives to Parents, how
to behave themſelves towards their Children. He had ſpoken to Children
in the Verſe before, Children obey your Parents in the Lord, for this is right: Ho-
nour thy Father and Mother, that it may be well with thee, and thou mayeft live long
on the Earth: And then he applies himſelf to Parents, And ye Fathers, &c:
I take it for a Rule, and granted, that there is no Relation in the World, either
natural or civil, and agreed upon, but there is a reciprocal Duty obliging each Party.
There is no fuch thing as one Man's requiring Love, Refpect, Honour, Service
or Obedience, from another, without being, at the fame time, obliged to do him
ſome good Turn for it, or for having already done it. God is not indeed a Debtor
to any Man, but the Thing at the Bottom is the fame: It is for our Creation;
Preſervation, for all the Bleffings of this Life, and for the Promiſes and Hopes of
a better, that we owe him, and are called upon to pay him, Honour and Service
Praiſe and Thankſgiving. Without thofe, he would have no Right to thefe; we
need not fear to fay fo. We fhould not praiſe him, but for the Good we have
received; nor pray to him, but for the Good we expect to receive from him: Now
though he does not antecedently owe theſe Favours and Bleffings to Mankind;
yet it is neceffary that he do them, before any Obligation can be laid on Mankind,
to pay him Prayer or Praiſe, Honour, Service or Thankſgiving. There is there-
fore nothing more certain than this, that as all Duties and Relations are at firſt
founded upon Benefits hoped for, or already received; fo no one can require any
Thing, as a Duty, at another's Hands, without having obliged him, or intended
to oblige him, by fomething anfwerable to what he aſks. And therefore, though
the Parental Relation may feem, of all others, to be moſt at Liberty; yet the Truth
is this, that all the Right and Claim they have to the Love, Refpect, the Service
and Obedience of their Children, is founded on the Love they fhew them, and the
Good they do them, according to their Underſtanding and Ability: And therefore,
if Parents, out of Cruelty or Wantonneſs, ſhould expofe their new-born Infants to
the Rage of wild Beafts, or throw them into Rivers, and they ſhould afterwards
eſcape by good Providence, they might account thoſe People for their Parents; if
they would; and they might pay them, but they would not owe them, Love, or
Honour, or Obedience: Their barbarous Ufage cancelled the Bond of Nature, and
left them under no other Obligation to their Parents, than to Strangers. No Body
can affign a Reaſon why theſe Parents fhould require or expect any Duty at theſe
Childrens Hands: For, as for the Being they may be faid to give them, they took
it away as foon, and cruelly, as they could.
I only mention this, to make it very evident, that the Obligation of Children'
to love, honour, refpect, and obey their Parents, is founded originally upon the
Parents
236
Duty of Parents to Children.
Parents Love and Care of them; and to fhew, that no one can require any thing
from another as a Duty, to whom he does not alſo owe fomething by way of
Duty. This is neceffarily to be premiſed, not only when we are confidering the
Duty of Parents to their Children, but to be kept in mind, in confidering the
Duties of all Relations elfe, whether natural or civil; for, in all Relations, each
Party is mutually, though differently, obliged to each the other. As therefore
Children are obliged to honour their Parents; fo alfo are Parents obliged to look
after, and take care of their Children. But becauſe, in affigning feveral Reaſons
why Children are obliged to honour their Parents, in all the Senfes of that Word, I
found occafion to inſtance in moſt of the particular Cafes, where Parents are obliged
to fhew their Love to, and to perform, indeed, their Duty to their Children; I am
at Liberty to confider the Words of the Text only, which contain but one Part of
the Behaviour of Parents towards their Children: And that is, Not to provoke their
Children to Wrath, but to bring them up in the Nurture and Admonition of the Lord.
We are therefore to fee, in the first Place, what it is to provoke Children to Wrath;
and in the fecond, why Parents fhould not do fo; and, laftly, what is meant by
bringing them up in the Nurture and Admonition of the Lord.
First, What it is for Parents to provoke their Children to Wrath. To provoke any
one to Wrath, is commonly understood, to irritate and ſtir them up to Anger; whether
the Provocation be juft or needlefs, whether with Reafon oa without it. Now Parents
are not here adviſed never to provoke their Children, or to ftir them up to Anger; for
that may not be in their lower to prevent, and fometimes they will unavoidably do it,
whilſt they diſcharge their Duty to them. It is faid of Adonijah the Son of David, that
his Father had not difpleafed him at any Time, in ſaying, Why haft thou done fo? But this
is no Example for other Parents, unleſs their Children ſo behave themſelves as not to
need Check or Reproof. Solomon was a great deal wiſer than his Father; and he ad-
viſes Parents never to regard the Cries, the Pain, or Grief of their Children, under their
Puniſhments, when there was juft Occafion, or when they were in danger of Mif
carriage. When Parents fee their Children in hazard of falling into evil Courſes,
they are not to ftand confidering, whether what is proper to reclaim them, and
prevent their Mifery, will grieve or anger them, but to venture that, and do their
Duty. They are to have regard to what they intend ſhould, and what in likelihood
will follow, and that is Amendment; and not to how it will be taken at their
Hands. They may herein look up to God the Father of us all, who chaftens us for
our Profit, that we may be Partakers of his Holiness. And yet he underſtands and
knows, that no chaftening for the Prefent feemeth joyous, but grievous; nevertheleſs,
afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable Fruit of Righteousness to them that are exerciſed
thereby. The Good of Children is what the Parent is to regard; and though the
Method of procuring that, may ftir up all the dark and wrathful Spirits that the
Children have, yet it is not to be declined on that Account; the reaſonable Hopes
of its yielding the Fruit of Goodneſs and Amendment, afterwards, to them who
are exerciſed thereby, will juſtify what they do. Such a Reftraint, Reproof, Ad-
monition or Correction, as is in Reaſon and all Probability likely and proper to
procure the Amendment of Children, though it will certainly provoke them to all
the Anger and Impatience poffible, is not here adviſed to be forborn by Parents,
when they are bid not to provoke their Children to Wrath. The Scripture, which
commands fuch Courſes to be taken in many Places, does not, in any, adviſe them
to be forborn: And therefore the juſt Exerciſe of the Parental Power is not re-
ſtrained by any Means, in theſe Words, for fear of making the Children a little
uneafy.
But
Duty of Parents to Children.
237
But becauſe there were fome Parents in St. Paul's Time, as there are fome in all
Times, of a moft hard, inhumane Temper; and others, who think they have, by
Nature, Authority to fay, and do, and uſe their Children, as they pleafe, and
thereupon are perfect Tyrants and Barbarians; and others, who think it always, and
in all Cafes, abfolutely neceffary to deal ruggedly and ſeverely with their Children;
becauſe of theſe People, it neither was, nor is unneceffary to lay fome fuch Com-
mand or Injunction in general on them, as this in the Text, Fathers provoke not
your Children to Wrath: And then, the provoking to Wrath, fignifies the provoking
them by conftant, hard, and evil Ufage, to fuch a Degree of fettled Anger, as will
certainly end in Hatred.
The Parental Yoke is, naturally, of all others, the moſt light and eafy: When
God himſelf would exprefs his Love and Tenderneſs to Mankind, he can do it no
way, more feelingly, than by calling himſelf our Father, and letting us know he
treats us as Parents do their Children: And when we would fet out the Care and
Tenderneſs of one Man to another, to the higheft, we can go no farther than to
fay, he uſed him as a Father would his Son. And indeed, all Admonitions and In-
junctions to Parents, to uſe their Children kindly, and with Gentleneſs, ſeem to be
directed to a very ſmall Part of Mankind: St. Paul ſpake theſe Words, Fathers pro
voke not your Children to Wrath, but to a very few. And I believe that we, who
now and then uſe them on theſe Occafions, can apply them to very few alfo: No,
the Biafs of Nature is to the other way. But to thoſe few, to whom they are appli-
cable, it may be fit to fay---Parents, fhew not your felves too hard, auftere, and
rigorous to your Children: And that for thefe Reaſons (which was the fecond
Thing to be confidered;) Firſt, Becauſe it is unnatural in itſelf; and, Secondly, be-
cauſe of the evil Confequences of ſuch Uſage.
Firſt, Becauſe it is unnatural in itſelf. It is not doing as other People do, nor,
indeed, as moſt other Creatures do: It looks as if you did not belong to Mankind,
not to feel the fame Affections, and to fhew the fame Kindneſs, that other Parents
do. It is manifeft, that your Children are not as happy as their Fellows are; they
are prejudiced by being defcended from you, and do not partake of the common
Lot of Kindneſs with other Children. And what Reafon is there, that they fhould
be more miferable than others, if it lie in your Power to make them as eafy?
A Man is bound to be as good and kind to all the World, as he well can; and it
were a weak thing, to think he has more Authority and Liberty to deal ill with his
Children, than with other People. For though a Man is allowed to do that with his
Children, which he may not do to Strangers; yet that is upon Prefumption always,
that it will tend to the Children's Benefit, and for that Reafon the Laws of God
and Man have left the Children to the Parents, and will not punish them for
doing that to them, which would be puniſhed if done to Strangers: But neither
of thoſe Laws allow the Parents to do any thing, truly injurious to the Children;
and Nature gives them no fuch Power: She only gives them Power to do them all
the Good they can, and only allows them the Liberty of hurting them, and afflicting
them for a Time, in order to their Good. And therefore, where a Parent's Con-
ſcience tells him, that the Affliction he is laying upon his Child, is neither de-
figned, nor likely to do him any Good, it tells him he has no juſt Authority to do
it; it tells him he is unnatural. And though no humane Laws muſt, or ought,
indeed, to prevent or take Cognizance of fuch Severity (unleſs the Commonwealth
be found to fuffer by it) becauſe they would thereby be in danger of hindring
Parents of exercifing a juft Authority, on reaſonable and neceffary Occafions, over
offending Children: Though the Laws, I fay, muft not take notice of theſe unna-
2 R
tural
238.
Duty of Parents to Children.
1
tural Severities; yet the Man cannot chooſe but know, that he is cruelly injurious
all the while, and ufurps a Power which does not naturally belong to him.
A Parent therefore must take Care, that he mistake not the Silence of God's
Word, nor the Liberty that Human Laws muft unavoidably leave to Parents in
the Management of their Children, nor his own fevere and rugged Temper; that
he miſtake not theſe for the Power and Authority that Nature gives him; for he
may be unnatural to his Children, though God's Word prefcribe him no Rule how
far he may proceed, and though Human Laws will allow what he does, and
though his own Temper incline him naturally to cruel and inhumane Courfes;
a Parent may be unnatural for all theſe; and may be puniſhed by our Common-
Parent, for fuch unnatural and cruel Uſage.
But Secondly, Parents are to be warned againſt too great and conftant Severities, be-
cauſe of the evil Confequences of fuch Ufage. First, it difcourages Children ſtrange-
ly, and breaks their Spirits: they have no Heart to fet about any thing; when they
perceive that all they ſay, and all they do, is ill underſtood and ill taken, they
have no Lift or Courage to go on. They find it is much the fame, whether they
endeavour to pleaſe, and do their Duty, or not; they ſtill receive the fame Treat-
ment, and meet with the like unkind fevere Ufage. And therefore when St. Paul
is giving the fame Counſel to the Coloffians, as here he does to the Ephefians, he
fubjoyns this as a Reaſon---Fathers provoke not your Children to Anger, left they be
difcouraged, iii. 21. left the perpetual Faulting, and Reproving, and Correcting them,
reduce them to an utter Deſpair of pleafing them; and thereupon they fink, and
become heartleſs, and faint in Spirit, under their Oppreffion. Oppreſſion will make
a wife Man mad, as Solomon fays; and conſtant Mifery and Painfulneſs of Mind
will break a tender and ingenuous Heart, though the Sufferings of the Body be not
very great.
There is naturally a Defire in all Inferiours, to render themſelves acceptable to
their Superiours; and this is viſible in young People moſt eſpecially, with regard to
their Parents: But this Alacrity and vigorous Defire dies by degrees, when they perceive
all their Endeavours to that purpoſe fruitleſs; it is the Hope of Succeeding, that is the
Life and Spring of all Attempts; and when that fails, Defire itſelf languiſhes.
When young People do all they can to win the Affections of their Parents, and
find them ftill moroſe, and ſharp, auſtere, untractable, and never to be moved; it
it but natural to think, they ſhould be tired, difconfolate, and faint, and give up
all Endeavours for the Future. This is one evil Confequence of a conſtantly ſevere
and rugged Treatment of young People: But it ſeldom ſtops here; it produces very
commonly a flaviſh and a difingenuous Fear of their Parents. They look upon
them as their Tyrants, and dread them, as the Slaves do thoſe that puniſh them;
and, indeed, a ſevere and never-pleafed Parent is no better than a little Tyrant, a
conftant Terror to his People. This puts the Children upon mean and difingenuous
Shifts, to make their Peace, or to avoid his Sight; they are never eafy, but at dif-
tance from him; and therefore fly him upon all Occafions. They can never
pleaſe him with the Truth, and therefore try to do it with Lies and Tricks. But
this kind of Fear is fo near to Hatred, and does fo naturally produce it, that I need
not make them two Confequences of a conftant ill Ufage, for they are commonly
There is nothing more certain, than that thoſe whom we conftantly fear,
we ſhall very eafily learn to hate. Nothing but Love and Kindneſs beget Love; and
nothing is more likely to beget Hate, than to be conftantly ill uſed, becauſe that
looks fo like the natural Fruit of Hatred.
but one.
It is not difficult, even for young People, to diſcern a Difference betwixt a fud-
den, tranfient, accidental Anger, and a continual fettled Difpofition to Severity;
they
Duty of Parents to Children.
239
>
they can make Allowance for Fits, though they return lightly and frequently:
But when Anger becomes habitual, and Parents are not provoked, but always ready
to quarrel, and upbraid, and puniſh; then it is natural for the Children to defpair
of pleafing them, and to conclude they are the Objects of their Hatred and Aver-
fion; and this will too, too naturally beget a Coldnefs and Neglect, mean Thoughts,
evil Sufpicions, Diftruft, Difregard to their Commands, Contrivances to free them-
ſelves from them, and fuch Averfion as will quickly end in downright Hatred ; for
finding that in their Parents, and feeling that from them, which occafions them to
hate others, it will be ftrange if it do not occafion them to hate them. When
others uſe them ill, though they endeavour to deferve well at their Hands, and
take all Opportunities to fhew their Anger, and Diſlike of them, and never let them
ſcape either Blame or Puniſhment, with or without Reaſon, and lead them a Life
vexatious and afflicting, and will not be appeafed by all that they can do, they cafily
conclude, that theſe People hate them, and have taken fuch Prejudice againſt them,
as nothing can remove: And fince this is reaſonable enough to conclude, in the
Cale of any one befides Parents, what is it that forbids Children to make fuch a
Conclufion of their Parents alfo, but a Prefumption in Nature, that Parents cannot
hate their Children? But this is not fufficient, if it were true at the Bottom, as I
doubt it is not; for if Parents could hate their Children, they could exprefs their
Hatred no otherwiſe than theſe People do; and till we can know Folks Hearts,
we ſhall always judge of their Affections, by the Expreffions of Words and Acti-
ons: And therefore unleſs the Children are convinced (as they will in fome time
be, for they have Reaſon and Underſtanding, and know when they do amiſs, and
when they are truly blameable) unleſs they are convinced that the Severities they
undergo are defigned for their Good and Amendment, and have a Tendency there-
to, it will fignify nothing to tell them, that they are not hated by their Parents;
for it is all one by what Name you call it, or by what Title you diftinguish it;
a conftant rugged and auftere Ufage, and an implacable Severity will always go for
Hatred with them who feel the Burthen of it.
And though Children (by which I underſtand thofe of Years and Difcretion, but
under the Tutelage of their Parents) though Children, I fay, will be the laft, in
whom this ill Uſage begets Hatred, yet it will fure enough beget it in them at
laſt; and that is a fearful Confequence of provoking Children to Wrath, both to
the Parents, and the Children. A Man can hardly be eafy under the known Ill-will
of any Relation, or one he has much to do withal; but this Uneafinefs grows
up to Pain and great Trouble, when the Relation is very near: It is impoffible for
either Parents to hate their Children, or Children their Parents, or to think they
are hated by each the other, without great Grief and Trouble; it fits fo hard
upon their Minds, that they are never quiet under it: If they are otherwiſe never
fo happy, yet the Remembrance of this Enmity interrupts their Content, and ſpoils
all; All this availeth me nothing, faith Haman to his Wife, recounting his Felicities,
whilst I ſee Mordecai the Jew fitting at the King's Gate. It is not what we have that
makes us happy, if we think we want fomething befides; that, which a reſtleſs Envy,
and unmeafurable Ambition fpake by him, is fpoken inwardly by Love or Grief,
when near Relations quarrel with each other; all things befides afford no fettled
Peace or Pleaſure, whilft that great Breach continues.
Even where the Mind of one Party (and that the injured and offended one) is
fatisfied with the Reaſonableness and Juftice of his being at Variance, and fees the
Neceflity there is of continuing his Difpleaſure, and that great Mifchiefs would
arife from a Compliance and Reconciliation (and fuch Cafes may very well happen,
and that between Parents and Children) yet is not the Mind at perfect quiet for
all
240
Duty of Parents to Children.
all this; the Voice of Nature is louder than that of Reaſon, and ftrict Juſtice, and
beats importunately at the Heart; and there will be no lafting Reft, till all is over,
and a thorough Reconciliation bring back each Party to their natural Affections,
and place them in the State they were at firft, and always fhould be.
This fore and uneafy Condition the Mind is in, during a State of Enmity, ſhould
be one Motive to the keeping and preferving Love and Friendſhip betwixt Rela-
tions; and fince the Hearts of Parents do fo naturally incline to Children, and
Love, they fay, defcends, it ought to move them to the greater Care, not to irritate
them too far by a cruel Ufage; that they put it not paft the Power of Reconciliation;
for when Hatred is once taken up, and begins to fix and fettle in Peoples Minds,
it is very hard to root it out again. One may fooner be convinced, that our
Averfion to a Perfon is not fo reaſonable and well grounded as it fhould be, and
that we carry our Refentment too far: One may fooner be convinced of this,
than we can lay them down, and amend; we cannot get out of our Miſtakes fo
foon, as we fell into them, nor fo eafily get free from bad Practice. When we
have done, and perfifted fome while in doing, what we are afterwards convinced
we had better have let alone, we are not yet at Liberty; there are more Things
concur to keep us in a Way we are once engaged in, than at firſt to bring us to
it. And therefore it is not good to provoke any one too far, and carry Matters to
extremity; it makes it fo much the harder to foften them again, and bring them
to good Temper, and place them where you found them, though they may fee the
Reaſons of coming back, and have a fecret Defire of doing fo: And, of all En-
mities and Feuds, the fierceft and the moft implacable are thofe of near Relations.
Theſe are ſome of the evil Confequences of Parents provoking their Children to
Wrath, that is, of ufing them ſo ill, unkindly and feverely, as to make them loſe
all Patience, and fly out into Fury and Diſorder, to looſe the Bands of Duty and
Submiffion, to become Refractory, hardned in Contumacy and Rebellion: The
Experience People have themſelves, and the Obfervations they may make from
others, may furniſh them with other Arguments to this purpoſe. I have the leſs
Care and Concern to look after other Reaſons; becauſe it is very probable, that the
Cafe is rare, and ſeldom happens; there being, in all likelihood, throughout the
Chriſtian World, twenty too fond and tender Parents, to one auftere and over-rigorous
one: And as many Children, in the like proportion, rather undone by Softneſs and
Indulgence, than miſcarry by Severity. One need not look for Arguments, or fear the
want of them, where Nature is on our Side; but becauſe St. Paul ſuppoſes ſome,
and all Ages ſupply us with ſome Inſtances of brutal and unnatural People, after they
have heard the Reaſons why Parents fhould not deal fo over-rigorously with their
Children, it is fit they ſhould hear what St. Paul adviſes, and how he would have
them deal with them, and that is, to bring them up in the Nurture and Admonition
of the Lord; which is the laſt Thing to be confidered.
To bring Children up in the Nurture and Admonition of the Lord, is, according to
the Letter, to bring them up in the Chriſtian Religion, to teach them their Duty,
to learn them what they are to Believe, and what to Practiſe; to inftruct them
in the Knowledge of God, and Jefus Chrift; to fhew them in what Condition they
are by Nature, and to what they are advanced by Grace; to how much Miſery
their being deſcended from fo corrupt an Original had reduced them, and how
their actual Sins endangered them yet farther, by expofing them to God's Wrath,
and everlaſting Death; and what Deliverance from them all was wrought by
Chriſt our Lord, with all the reſt of the Particulars of that moſt merciful myfte-
rious Diſpenſation. All this is naturally comprehended under the Nurture and Ad-
monition of the Lord; and no doubt but Parents are here adviſed to bring their
Children
Duty of Parents to Children.
241
Children up in the Knowledge and Practice of the Chriſtian Religion: And it is the
greateſt Teſtimony of their Love, that they can fhew them, in fo doing; the greateſt
Kindneſs they can do them, the greateſt Bleffing, and the beſt Inheritance, they can
beſtow upon them. Without this, it is a little thing to fay, that neither Wiſdom,
Riches, Honours, nor any thing befides, can make them happy; for without this,
they will, with all the reft, be miſerable.
Taking therefore the bringing Children up in the Nurture and Admonition of the
Lord, for the breeding them up in the Knowledge of Chrift and his Religion,
the Connexion may be this. Would you, Parents, have
you, Parents, have your Children Honour
you, and behave themſelves obediently, and as becomes them in all Reſpects? bring
them up in the Fear and Nurture of the Lord; teach them the Chriſtian Law; let
them read and be converfant in the Holy Scriptures; make them apply themſelves
early to that; there they will fee their Duty; there they will find fuch Leffons
of Inftruction, fuch great Encouragements and Promiſes of huge Rewards, as will
ſecure their Honour and Refpect, their Service and Obedience to their Parents. A
better Senfe cannot be found to fit thefe Words; but becauſe the Nurture and the
Admonition of the Lord feems to be ſet in oppofition to the provoking to Wrath; and
becauſe the Words will better bear it, and that a good Religious Education in the
Chriſtian Doctrine does not fufficiently anſwer to provoking Children to Wrath, it
may be ſomewhat more pertinent and proper to underſtand, by Nurture and Ad-
monition of the Lord, fuch a Religious Admonition, and Reproof, and Caftigation
of Children, as is agreeable to the Doctrine, and good Spirit of Chrift the Lord;
becauſe this Senſe will alfo take in the other, and make the Oppoſition perfect.
Would you, who are Parents, be honoured and obeyed by your Children, take
the Courſes that are propereft for that Purpoſe: Do not think of bringing your
Defigns to paſs, by being hard, morofe, and always out of humour with them
by treating them inhumanly and cruelly; by diſcouraging them continually with
Frowns and ill Looks, with Tauntings and Upbraidings, with Threats, and cruel
Chaftiſements: They will not need fo great Severities; fuch flavifh Ufage, fuch dai-
ly Menaces of difinheriting and cafting off, and fuch like rugged and illiberal Treat-
ment as is ſometimes fhewn them: Theſe things do often but inflame them, and
exaſperate them to greater Contumacy, extinguiſh by degrees their natural Piety
and Affections, make them avoid your Sight, fly from you, as from Miſchief; to
dread like an Executioner, ſhake off the Yoak, as foon as poffible they can,
and if not hate, yet never love you more. They will be won with better Argu-
ments than thefe; you may fecure their Honour and Obedience better, by more
natural and gentle Methods; give them fuch good Inſtructions as you find in Holy
Scriptures; remember them of God's Commands, to Honour and Obey their Pa-
rents; admoniſh them, from thence, with the Spirit of Meekneſs, to take good
heed to their Ways, how they trangrefs the Laws of God, by diſobeying their Com-
mands, when juſt and reaſonable; and how they ſhall, one Day, be put to anſwer
for the neglectful or contemptuous Breach of them.
you
;
Lay but, at first, this good Religious Foundation in their Minds, and you may
build upon it for ever after; it will hold when all Things elfe fail, and it will for-
ward all Confiderations befides; it will give Strength to every Argument. This
will be the readieſt Way to convince young People you defign their Good in all In-
junctions and Commands; they will fee that their Parents urge no more than God
commands; and have no other Intereſt to purſue, than their Happineſs. The Re-
ception of
any Argument, the Power that either Advice or Command fhall obtain,
depends, in a great Meaſure, upon the Way and Manner of propounding it:
If you have once convinced the Party, that you deſign his Benefit, you have al-
ready gained a favourable Attention; and every Thing you fay fhall be conſidered:
But
2 S
242
Duty of Parents to Children.
?
But if you give him caufe to fufpect your Kindneſs, he will neglect, or coldly
entertain all you fhall offer. When young ones are convinced of the true Love
and Kindneſs of their Parents, (and it is very eaſy to convince them by gentle
Uſage) they will bear with Decency and Patience a great many hard uneafy
Things; Reproof, and Admonition, nay, and Puniſhments, will find Submiffion
and Obedience, when they can come to think, it is in order to their Good, or
at leaſt deſigned for that Purpoſe. It is not to be thought, that any manner
of Reſtraint, or Puniſhment, fhould be, for the Prefent, eafy or well taken; a
Parent is not to look for this, nor to have any great Regard to it; but he is
fo to order them, that, upon Confideration and Reflection, they may find, that
all was well intended towards them, that all their Admonitions and Reproofs, Re-
ſtraints and Puniſhments, were natural and moderate; fuch as were proper for their
Age, Condition, and Offence; fuch as were likely to effect Amendment, and pre-
vent or cure an Evil; fuch as other Parents wife and tender might make uſe of,
on the like Occafions; fuch as Religion would adviſe and juſtify. Such Nurture and
Admonition, fuch Inftruction and Reproof, and Chaſtiſement as this, would look
as if it came from the Lord; who never grieves us willingly, or for his Pleaſure,
but for Neceffity, for our Amendment, and our laſfting Good; and fuch as this would
fecure the Honour and Reſpect, the Service and Obedience of Children to their
Parents.
many
I have before obſerved, that when we diſcourſe of this Matter, we fpeak but to
a few, who are nearly concerned: Small is the Number of cruel and unnatural
Parents, and therefore few are the Children who fuffer at their Hands; and there-
fore it will not be reaſonable, that many ſhould apply what has been ſaid, too cloſe-
ly to themſelves, or think it their own Cafe, whether Parents or Children: The
Children are not to think the Parents cruel or unnatural, becauſe they have been
conſtantly reproved for their evil Words or Practice; and cloſely reſtrained from
doing any thing hurtful to themſelves or others, or fharply puniſhed for having
done it; for theſe are all of them Duties in Parents, and cannot therefore be
their Faults. And befides, it may very well happen, that Parents may be angry
foon, and retain it long, with great Reaſon and Juſtice, when the Children think
otherwiſe; becauſe they underſtand things better, ſee the natural Tendency of
of their Actions and Humours, and the Confequences they may draw after them,
and the Hazards and finful Courfes they may engage them in; and a world of
things befides, which Ignorance, and Thoughtleſſneſs, and Inexperience, keep the
Children from confidering. And they are too much concerned in their own behalf,
to paſs a true impartial Judgment on the Severities they undergo; too apt to juſtify
their own Conduct, and to conclude themſelves, if not entirely Innocent, yet not
deferving fuch Reproof or Puniſhment. And after all that can be faid, it were
much better for the World, and more reaſonable, all things confidered, that more
Children fhould fuffer from the Rigours of their Parents, than do, (or ever will
do) than that Parents, out of Fear of offending on this Side, ſhould be reſtrained
from ufing fuch Severities, as they (who know their Childrens Humours and In-
clinations beft) ſhall think convenient, and moſt proper; or that Children ſhould
difpute, conteſt and quarrel their Right, or ſhould withdraw themſelves from their
Obedience, upon any fuch Pretence: Of the two Evils, this, beyond Compariſon,
would be the greater; and therefore, however hard and heavy the Dominion of
fome Parents may be, I know no Remedy or Way to cafe the Children, whilſt
they continue under them, but a Submiffive, Meek, and dutiful Deportment to-
wards them: Patience, and quiet undergoing what is laid upon them, will ſooneſt
bring the Parents to Confideration and Reaſon, and mollify and break their Fury,
and fometimes their Hearts; when a perverfe and contumacious Obftinacy will
but
Duty of Parents to Children.
243
but exafperate to greater Anger and Severity: And Time at length will either van-
quifh their Aufterity, or fet the Children at their Liberty; fo that they have not
long, or much to fuffer. And therefore though the Text is, Fathers provoke not
your Children to Wrath: yet I will make an end with the Command foregoing,
Children obey your Parents in the Lord, for this is right.
DISCOURSE V.
I TIMOTHY V. VERSE 8.
But if any provide not for his own, and specially for thofe of his
own Houfe, he hath denied the Faith, and is worse than an Infidel.
A
MONGST other Duties incumbent upon Parents, that of making Pro-
viſion for their temporal Livelihood is certainly one; and here commended
and injoined by St. Paul, in Words of great weight and moment: If any
provide not, &c. In fpeaking to which, I intend to confider, in the firſt
Place, the Terms here ufed; and, in the Second, fay fomething to the different Pro-
portions of Provifion for Children; becauſe to provide, is an indefinite Phraſe, and
muſt be determined by ſeveral Confiderations and Reſpects: And, thirdly, confider
the Cafe of difinheriting Children, for whom Parents are fo obliged to make Pro-
vifion, as far as it relates to us, and becomes a Cafe of Confcience.
First, Of the Terms here uſed: To provide, is to take Care of, and make Provi-
fion for the Maintenance, the Livelihood, and Subfiftence, proper to the Age, Con-
dition and Quality of any one. To provide for our own, is to provide for fuch as
have any Relation to, and Dependance on us; fuch as are more ours than any
other's: And to provide eſpecially for thoſe of our own Houſe, is to provide for our
Kindred and Family, and thoſe who are nearly related to us, and, in this particular
Place, eſpecially our Children. To deny the Faith, was accounted the greateſt Sin
a Chriſtian could commit: Apoftacy was thought to be much more heinous than
Infidelity; as a Renegade is inuch more odious than an open Adverſary, made ſo by
Accident, and not by Choice: And therefore, to deny the Faith, is a Phraſe of great
Exaggeration, and fignifies the being as bad a Man, and the doing as bad things
as poffibly he can; though he do not actually deny the Faith, nor become truly an
Infidel. For it is certain, that a Parent may be very negligent and careless of, and
very cruel to his Children, without renouncing his Belief of the Chriftian Doc-
trine ;
the Meaning therefore of denying the Faith, is the acting in Contradiction to
it, the neglecting or defpifing its Commands.
They, who profeſs themſelves Chriftians, own and acknowledge Jeſus Chriſt to
be their King and Lawgiver; they have given up their Names to him in Baptiſm;
they are to do as he enjoyns them; they are to guide and govern themſelves by
his Directions, to do whatever he commands, and to leave undone whatever he
forbids. This all Chriftians are obliged to, by vertue of their Baptiſm; and they
profefs themſelves obliged to do it, by owning themfelves to be Chriftians: And
therefore, when they practiſe in oppofition to this Faith, they are faid to deny it,
and to become Infidels, although they do not formally and folemnly deny their
Chriſtianity.
244
Duty of Parents to Children.
Chriſtianity. It is as St. Paul expreffes, Tit. i. 16. They profess that they know God,
but in Works they deny him, being abominable and difobedient, and to every good Work
reprobate, or void of Judgment: And the doing thus, is therefore faid to be worse
than being Infidel, and doing the like, becauſe the Unbelievers have not the fame
Light, Knowledge, and Underſtanding of theſe Duties that Chriſtians have; nor is
the Performance of them injoyned, under fo great and weighty Penalties, nor with
fo great Encouragements to Infidels, as to the Chriftians in the Gofpel.
The Meaning therefore of the Words of the Text, as applied to Parents in
particular, is this: If any Parent, who profeffes and calls himſelf a Chriſtian, neg-
lects or refuſes to make a due and fitting Proviſion for his own Children, according
to his Underſtanding and Abilities, he is really a bad Man; he does in effect deny
the Faith; he lets it have no Power over him; he withdraws himſelf from the
Obedience he owes, and ought to pay, to Chrift's Commands, which enjoyn all Pa-
rents to provide for their Children; and he is fo much worſe than an Infidel, by
how much he is more obliged to make fuch Provifion for his Children, than Un-
believers are, who have not the fame Commands and Laws, the fame Encourage-
ments, nor are tied by the fame Penalties that Chriftians are.
any
From the Terms of the Text thus explained, it may not be amifs, before I
go on
to the other Heads, to obferve theſe two Things; First, that the Faith of Chrift
does always include Obedience to the Laws of Chrift. Secondly, that all natural Du-
ties are tied moſt ſtrongly upon Chriſtians, by the Faith of Chriſt, i. e. by their
pro-
feffing Chriſtianity. First, that the Faith of Chrift does certainly include Obedience
to the Laws of Chrift; For if People are faid to deny the Faith, by acting in op-
pofition to it, by not performing its Injunctions and Commands, and to keep, and
bold fast the Faith by living up to its Rules, and conforming to its Precepts, it is
plain, that barely believing the Goſpel, is not the Faith that will ſtand us in
ſtead of it ſelf; and yet it is certain, that diſowning externally the Belief and Pro-
feffion of Chriſtianity, is denying the Faith, though Men ſhould live in the Practice
and Obedience of moſt of Chriſt's Commands. It was not only poffible, but prac-
tiſed often, in the primitive Ages of Chriſtianity, for Men to deny themſelves to
be Chriſtians in publick, and before the Magiſtrates, to fave themſelves from Star-
ving, Baniſhment, or Priſons, or Death with Torments; yet, underhand, both thought
themſelves to be Chriftians, and lived as Chriftians: But this was a huge Miſtake,
and guarded frequently againſt by our Saviour himſelf; who tells his Difciples, that
they who denied him before Men, (whatever they might think of themſelves, and know
of their Adherence to his Laws in Heart and Practice) ſhould be denied by him be-
fore his Father in Heaven, with all his holy Angels; and gives them in charge to con-
fefs him openly, when they were called upon to do it: And St. Paul affures us, that
with the Mouth, Confeffion (that Jefus is the Son of God) is made unto Salvation. Now
it mattered not, what theſe People thought within themſelves, nor how innocently
and virtuouſly they might otherwiſe live; they did, by thus verbally diſowning them-
ſelves Chriſtians, and diſclaiming that Profeffion, they did, to all intents and pur-
poſes, deny the Faith, and renounce Chriſtianity. The Scandal and Offence they
gave to the Chriſtians was exceeding great, and mischievous; the Scorn, and Tri-
umph, they afforded to the Jews and Heathens; the Impediments and Stops they
put in the way of Converts, and doubting People, were all great, and occafioned
as much Miſchief and Dishonour to the Chriftian Name, as if they had at the
fame Time renounced all their virtuous and religious Practice. And fince who-
ever embraced Chriſtianity, engaged to prefer the being called a Chriftian, and the
profeffing that Belief, to all the Good or Évil this World could afford, to all the
Profit, Pleaſure and Advantage he might any ways reap, and to all the Pain and
Mifery
Duty of Parents to Children.
245
Mifery he might any ways undergo; fince the undertaking Chriſtianity implies all
this, fince this is truly the Doctrine of the Cross, that all Chriftians make Profeffion
of in Baptiſm; it is evident, that he who, to fave himſelf from either Shame or
Pain, denies himſelf, in Word, to be a Chriftian, denies the Faith, and renounces
Chriſtianity, in a moſt large important Article, and fhall have no Advantage from
Chrift's Promiſes, although he live a good and virtuous Life in other Reſpects.
Now though this alone, and, of it ſelf, is more than enough to hazard a Man's Salva-
tion; yet is not the bare Profeffion of Chriſtianity, no nor the Belief of all its Ar-
ticles, enough to fecure a Man from denying the Faith; becauſe it is evident he
may deny it in Works, though he believe in his Heart, and confefs with his Mouth,
that Jeſus is the Son of God: And the Reaſon of that is this, that every Chriftian is
obliged, by vertue of his Profeffion, not only to believe with the Heart, and make
Confeffion with the Mouth of the Faith of Chrift, but to evidence this Faith in all
his Actions, to ſhew it in his Life and Converſation; and that all theſe Things are
abfolutely neceffary, and all together make the Faith of a good Chriſtian : And there-
fore, that neither the one, nor the other (but all together) will ſerve a Man's turn,
or ſtand him in any ſtead. In a Word, if a Man can be properly faid to deny the
Faith, by neglecting and refufing to do his Duty; it is evident that Faith includes
Obedience to the Laws of Chrift, and is, without thoſe Works, both vain and
dead.
The Second Thing to be obſerved is this; that all our Natural and our Civil Du-
ties are ſtrongly tied upon us, by vertue of our Profeffion of Chriſtianity. It is very
much to the Honour of our Religion, that it is wholly taken up in providing for
the Security and Benefit of Mankind, even in this World; its general Bent and
Tendency is to fet Men at eaſe, and make them happy; its great Endeavour is to
fecure the Duties of all Relations to each the other, from want of which proceed
all the Miſchiefs in the World. It does not leave Men to be moved by fuch Con-
fiderations alone as Natural Reafon will fuggeft; but furniſhes them with better,
and lays the powerful Commands of God upon them, with the Sanction of great
and fearful Penalties to fuch as diſobey, and with the great Encouragements of end-
lefs Happineſs to Men's Obedience. Now nothing can be more to the Advantage
of any Man, than that all the People with whom he has to deal, to whom he has
any Relation, or upon whom he has any Dependance, ſhould be commanded by
God above, to fhew him Mercy; and to do him Juftice; to do him all good Offices;
and to ſuffer none to do him Injury; and ſhould be encouraged to all this, by Pro-
miſes of the greateſt Bleffings, and threatned, upon neglect, with the moſt fearful
and amazing Evils: Nothing is more likely to fecure a Man's Peace and Happineſs,
than ſuch a Fence as this; and yet this is the Fence that Chriſtianity provides for
every ſingle Perſon in the World, by laying its Commands, extending its Promiſes
and Threats to every ſingle Chriftian, to oblige them to perform their feveral Du-
ties to their ſeveral Relations throughout the World. This ought to recommend the
Chriſtian Religion to all confidering People, above all other Laws and Difpenfations
whatſoever; for though indeed it muſt be owned, that natural and civil Duties fare
no better, or at leaſt not very much, under Chriſtianity, notwithſtanding all this
Care, than under Judaiſm, or Mahometifm, or Paganiſm; yet this is not for want
of any thing in Chriſtianity, but of good Senfe and Confideration in Mankind. The
Religion is not any where defective, but its Profeffors; that is ftill excellent and
moſt divine, but we are fottiſh, wicked, and worſe than Infidels. It will, one Day,
be more tolerable for Heathens, Jews, and Turks, than unbelieving diſobedient Chri-
ftians. There is no Religion in the World was ever framed to make Men happy,
even in this Life, like that of Jefus Chrift, if it were thoroughly purſued: A Man
2 T
cannot
246
Duty of Parents to Children.
cannot poffibly be made uneafy, or miſerable, or fuffer any Evil at another's Hands,
without the Violation of fome Chriſtian Command; which, if obeyed, would have
fecured him.
Having therefore premifed thefe Things; which fhew fufficiently the great Obli-
gation Chriftian Parents lie under, to make Provifion for their Children, it is Time
to come to be more particular, and to fee what fort of Provifion they are to make;
which was the fecond Thing to be confidered.
To determiue with any manner of Exactnefs, or to any Ufe and Purpoſe, the
Proportion of Provifion Parents are to make for Children, it will be neceffary to
have confideration and refpect to their Age, Condition, and Capacity. Reſpect
muſt needs be had to their Age, becauſe there is a Time when Children are fo
helpleſs, that all they want, and can enjoy, muft be provided for them, and it can
lie on no body fo well as Parents to do it: And in this Cafe, Prouifion includes every
thing that Children ſtand in need of; this Nature teaches, and I need not farther
infift on it. As they grow up in Years, their Quality and Condition, their Capa-
city and Abilities both of Body and Mind, are to come into confideration; and
they muſt be more and more inured to Labour, Diligence, and Induſtry. It is
not to be thought, that Parents are obliged only to provide for their Children, Mo-
ney, Lands, and Houſes, and then have done their Duty; but they must provide
them with Abilities of Body and Mind, both to obtain, preferve, and uſe the Be-
nefits they intend to beſtow upon them: They muſt accuftom them, whilſt young,
to application and attention to Buſineſs: Theſe Things are neceffary both to Poor
and Rich; and, without them, the Poor will never be rich, and the Rich will be
quickly poor. It is certain, that the Poor can never diſcharge the Duty of Parents
well to their Children, without inuring them to Labour and Hardſhip; that is the
Provifion they are only capable of making for them, and that they are obliged to
make. God gives their Children Health and Strength, and they muſt ſee them well
employed and uſed; that is the Portion God enables them to give them; and the
fooner they begin with them, and the clofer they purſue them to Labour, Dili-
gence, and Induſtry, the kinder they will be to them, the better they will provide
for them. It is certain that the pooreſt Parents in the World are obliged to pro-
vide for their Children, according to the beft of their Abilities; and as certain, that
they can provide for them no otherwiſe, than by accuftoming them to Labour,
and Induſtry; and therefore it is certain, that they are obliged to provide thus for
them.
It looks, at firſt, like doing them no harm, to let them continue lazy, idle, and
doing nothing; and many poor People are extremely guilty of this way of Educa-
tion, imagining it a piece of Kindneſs to their Children, to let them rather beg
their Bread, than put them to labour for it; a Miſtake not only miſchievous to the
Commonwealth, but of moſt pernicious Confequence to their Children, the un-
kindeſt thing that they can do to them; for though it pleaſe them for the Preſent,
yet it entails on them perpetual Mifery, and very often untimely Death, by engage-
ing them in wicked Courſes, the fure and ready Road to Ruine; whereas the bring-
ing them up to Labour, and continual Buſineſs of ſome kind or other, keeps them,
at leaſt, in a mean Sufficiency, if not in Plenty, and puts them into a Capacity of
emerging out of their Difficulties, and bettering their Condition. So that I do not
ſee, but that poor People do really offend God, as well as injure their Children, by
keeping them idle, by not inuring them moſt conſtantly to fuch Labours as God
enables them to bear. We know that God ties them to do what they can for their
Children, and they are capable of doing nothing but this for them; and therefore
God hath tied them to this; and if they will not do this for their Children, St.
Paul will tell them, they deny the Faith, and. are worse than Infidels.
As
Duty of Parents to Children.
247
As for the richer and the better fort of People, their Quality and Condition is
alfo to be confidered in determining what kind of Proviſion is to be made for
their Children. Cuſtom and the Ufages of the Country make things decent and
fit, which otherwife would be indifferent; and Diftinction of Quality and Condi-
tion is abfolutely neceffary to the keeping up Quiet and Order in the World: It is
impoffible for Mankind to live in Peace, without a due Subordination of one Con-
dition to another: And therefore, though thefe Things, confidered by themſelves,
appear neither Moral nor Religious, but Matters of Ceremony, Decency and Form;
yet whofo fets himſelf to confider Things throughly, will find, that theſe Things,
in Conjunction with one another, are fo abfolutely neceffary to the fecuring Peace
and Order; that, without them, neither Religion nor Morallity could live and flouriſh
in the World: And therefore they, who think meanly of theſe Things, and that
Mankind is above them, are, it may be, miſtaken in Mankind, and underſtand not
Human Nature enough; and they, who endeavour to fubvert and overturn them,
are not aware of the Evils that would enfue. It cannot be told, in what Rank of
Virtues, Decency, and Honour, and Diſtinction of Quality and Condition ſtand;
but yet it is eaſy to fee, that, without theſe Things, there would be nothing but
Confufion and Diſorder in the World. It is therefore poffible for one Man to do
that, by reaſon of his Quality and Condition, with Reaſon and Innocence, which
another cannot do, by reaſon of his Condition, without Offence and Blame. It is
poffible for a Man of good Quality to make fuch Provifion for his Children, as may
be truly faulty, which if a meaner Man had made, he had done well and laudably.
And therefore, till Men find a better Rule to walk by, in thefe Cafes, than De-
cency, and Cuftom, and good Fame, they will not do either well or wifely, to neg-
lect and overlook them, though I cannot affign them the particular Command of
God which they offend againſt in ſuch Neglect.
Upon theſe Accounts, it may be utterly impoffible for any one elfe to preſcribe
to a Parent a Rule of Provifion for his Children, either as to Kind, or Quantity; but
it will not be difficult for himſelf to do it, taking theſe Things into Confideration.
Only let him not be unmindful of theſe two Things. First, that he never educate
his Children above the Provifion he defigns to make for them: And, Secondly, that
whatever Provifion he defigns to make for them, he inure them to Labour, Dili-
gence, and Induſtry, to Attention, and Application, as they are capable of bearing.
This is common to all Qualities and Conditions; this muſt go along with all Chil-
dren; the pooreſt are not too mean for theſe Qualities, nor the richeſt above them.
First, A Parent is to take good heed that he never educate his Children above the
Proviſion he defigns to make for them; as well becauſe it will flacken their Dili-
gence and Induſtry, upon Prefumption there will not be ſo great Occafion for them,
as alſo that the Diſappointment will be great and troubleſome, without any manner
of Advantage; it being much more eaſy to bear with a mean Condition conſtantly,
than to fall into it from a Plentiful and Good one; which is the Caſe of People
better educated than provided for: The ſoft and tender Ufage of People, whilſt young,
and capable of undergoing Labour and more Hardſhip, is truly a Diſkindneſs to
them, without an anſwerable Provifion for them afterwards; for whenever they are
left to ſhift for themſelves, they are no better than expofed naked, as it were, and
defenceleſs, unable to procure themſelves a Livelihood, and in much worſe Condi-
tion than their Inferiours. This is the Misfortune frequently, of being born of an
ancient and genteel Family, or of Parents prefumed to be much richer than they
truly are: Their Name, and Quality, and Reputation, entail upon them Mifery and
Want; they muſt be bred as if they were all to inherit great Eſtates, when they are
to inherit nothing but a Name that does them Miſchief: This is not defigned a
Kindneſs
248
Duty of Parents to Children.
Kindneſs to the Children, but generally proceeds from Pride and Vanity; which
make the Children mean and miferable indeed, for fear the Parents ſhould be thought
fo. It is one of the unkindeft Things a Parent can do to breed his Children up in
Delicacy, and Softnefs, whilft they are young and ftrong, and then to leave them
to themſelves to work their Fortune out of Weakneſs and Folly: It is very ill for
the richeſt Parents that are, to deal too tenderly with their Children, let them leave
them as well provided as they can; but it is great Cruelty in Parents, that are able
to leave them little or nothing, to leave them Pride and Lazineſs, and an Incapacity
both of Body and Mind to do themſelves any Service; as if the Reproach and Blame,
that muſt unavoidably fall on theſe unkind Parents, were not more to be reſpected
and feared, than the Reputation of having a ſmall Eſtate, and being unable to leave
them a confiderable Fortune. This is apparently preferring their own Fame to the
true and lafting Benefit of their Children, in a material Point, which is a very ill
way of providing for them.
And theſe People, of appearing Faſhion and Quality (though to be pitied more)
are as much to be blamed, as the poorer fort, who will not inure their Children to
Labour and cloſe Application; for their Inability to provide for them, according to
their Quality and Condition, will not excufe them for neglecting to do as they are
able. The Effects of this unadviſed way of Education are fo remarkably bad, that
it is a wonder Men fhould need any Caution againſt it: The Men-children either
fall into the Meannefs of Servitude, the Refuge of the idle and uninftructed part of
Mankind, or betake themſelves, in deſpair, to the Wars abroad, or to Robberies at
home: The Women fall too often into the Hands of wicked Tempters, through
want of Ability to employ themſelves in honeſt Courſes, and an utter Incapacity of
maintaining their Condition; their Poverty making them unfit for their Equals,
and their foft expenfive Education making their Inferiours afraid to match with them,
beſides the Hazard of bringing the Spirit of a good Family along with them.
Theſe are ſome of the ufual Miſchiefs of a Parent's educating his Children much
above the Provifion he is able, or willing, to make for them, and leave them; fuf-
ficient to diſcourage any one from doing it, confidering how much eafier it is to
advance and riſe above our Hopes, than to fall from our Expectations; and how
much kinder it is, to leave our Children Satisfaction and Content, if not Surprize
and Pleaſure, than Grief and Shame upon their Diſappointment.
There is alſo the oppofite Extream that is not to be forgotten; and that is, a mean
and fordid Education, when they defign to leave, or cannot help the leaving them,
a great Fortune. I am not directly to charge this Humour with a Sin; but it is
a huge Indecency, and piece of Indifcretion; a Thing that has often had very ill
Confequences, and cannot eafily have good; for the young People, either ſeeing
good reaſon to hope, or finding for certain, that they fhall one Day fucceed to
a Fortune fuperior to the Condition they are educated in, do either begin to deſpiſe,
or to neglect their Buſineſs: They think themſelves above their Calling, or ima-
gine they ſhall ſtand in little need of its Affiſtance; and, upon either account, ſlacken
their Care and Induſtry, withdraw their Minds from their proper Concerns, and
become very quickly bad Servants; and, as foon as they come to Liberty and their
Eſtate, fall into all Extravagance, and make a very ill Uſe of both. In a Word, a
mean and fordid Education, with the Profpect of a plentiful Condition to follow,
will hardly eſcape one of theſe two Extreams; either by uſe contract a mean and
fordid Spirit, and, in the midſt of Plenty, live a wretched and penurious Life, ſo
that a mean Eſtate had been fufficient and moſt proper; or elſe there will ſo much
fo
Time be loft in the Way they are in, and they will ſhake off their Condition, and
betake themſelves to loofe and profufe Courſes, and be undone by too great Plenty.
A prudent
Duty of Parents to Children.
249
A prudent Parent will therefore carefully avoid both theſe Extreams, of educa-
ting his Children much above, or much below the Proviſion he deſigns to make for
them; and that this may not ſeem to be out of the way, it is, if well confidered, the
ſureſt means of rendring the Proviſion they make, moſt ſerviceable and uſeful to their
Children: For, by theſe means, the Children have Encouragement to proſecute their
Bufinefs with Induftry and Application, knowing their Parents will take Care to
farther them, and help them according to their Beginnings; and that fuch Help and
Affiftance, of it felf, will not fuffice, without their own great Care and Induſtry,
which will alſo be a Spur on that Side. They muſt not be wanting to themſelves,
no more than their Parents will be; and then their Affairs are likely to fucceed:
For, if they either perceive their Parents unable to go through as they begun, they
are diſcouraged, grieved and ſhamed, and thereupon grow defperately careless; or
able to do above what their preſent Condition requires, they grow, as was before.
obferved, intolerably negligent, weary of their way, and longing after Liberty; which,
being unfeaſonably obtained, is commonly uſed intemperately.
This is therefore one Thing that Parents will obferve in making Proviſion for their
Children, to fit them with an Education fuitable to it, to keep a Mean, without
either over or under-doing the Matter; for fince they are obliged in Duty to make
Proviſion for them, they ought in Reaſon and Prudence to take all Care they can
to render fuch Provifion the moſt ſerviceable and uſeful to them.
The other Thing, a Parent ſhould not be unmindful of, is this; that whatever
great Proviſion he intends to make for his Children, he do by all means inure them
to Diligence and Induſtry, to Application and Attention of Mind: Theſe Qualities
may chance to make fome amends for the defect of Money or Eſtate, but no Pro-
viſion will fufficiently fupply the defect of them: Many emerge, by theſe, out of
great Difficulties and Straits, and make their way to Plenty and Proſperity; and many
more, for want of theſe, decline from Plenty to much Mifery; fo that no Fortune
is above, or can continue well without them. There can be no better Reaſon affign-
ed, why fo many People of Faſhion are diftinguiſhed as much by their Vices, as their
Birth and Quality, from their Inferiours, than that they are fo foftly educated, and
fall into the worft of Hands, i. e. their own, fo foon: There is a great deal of Care,
and Time, and Money, oft expended on them; but it does not fucceed fo well with
them, becauſe they must not be preffed to any thing; they muſt take what they will,
and never be conſtrained to any thing laborious and difficult. A cloſe Attention and
Application would break their Spirits quickly, and they would never love their Bu-
finefs again. This is the Opinion of fond and ignorant People together, and quickly
agreed to by the young ones, who are always afraid of being overcharged, as well as
their Parents, and think their Hearts will break a great deal fooner than they will:
A Miſcarriage of this kind does feldom or never happen, if things are well inquired
into; the Miſcarriages are generally for want of this Attention and cloſe Applica-
tion. Theſe fort of People will unavoidably have Liberty enough betimes, and there-
fore well bear with Reſtraint and Labour, before-hand, for a Seafon; and if they
are not taught how to employ their Time in fomething fit and worthy of them, whilſt
they are young, they will never know how to do it, when they grow up, and are
wholly Maſters of it; ſo that the Parents, who are only careful to provide Eſtates
for their Children, do truly forget half of their Buſineſs; which is, to fit their Chil-
dren for their Eſtates.
may
Now fince it is not either fit, or decent, or at leaſt not cuſtomary, to put theſe
People of Quality to Trades or fettled Callings, it muſt needs be worfe with them,
than their Inferiours, if they have not fomething equivalent to fuch Employments,
to quicken their Induſtry and Diligence, to keep them bufied and amuſed as profitably
2 U
as
250
Duty of Parents to Children.
as they can, to inure them to the Labours of the Mind, and fit them for Services
that may, in Time, be proper for them.
There is no Body, but is born and obliged to ferve his Country in fome Capacity
or other; and they, who are most at Liberty from their natural and domeſtick Ne-
ceffities, whofe Bodies are not tied to labour, and earn the Suftenance of a Family,
and to provide for their Relations, by following fome Vocation or Employment, are
moſt obliged to give their Service to their Country, becauſe they have moſt Leiſure,
and fewer Avocations; and this the moſt profuſe and negligent, the moſt voluptu-
ous, idle and unſerviceable Creatures of Quality that are, know not how to deny :
They are always ready to own their Obligation to ſerve their Country in Offices of
Honour and Advantage: But then it is certain, that they ought to be fit and qua
lified to diſcharge thoſe Duties to the Publick; which they can never be, unleſs
they are bred up, whilft young, in a moft diligent induftrious Purſuit of fuch At-
tainments as will qualify them for fuch noble Services.
If Parents were as much obliged to ſeek their Childrens Miſchief, as they are to
provide well for them, and were to ftudy long for it, they could not find a more
effectual Way of doing it, than by breeding them up in Idleneſs and Softneſs, leav-
ing them to themſelves, and to their natural Liftleffneſs; neither charging their
Memory, nor quickning their Intention, nor trying their Judgment, nor putting
them to any Strait or Difficulty: They would, without any farther Trouble, be un-
done; for, under all theſe Prejudices, the Soul will ſtill be active, and, not being
under any good Direction, will be active to Miſchief: The natural Inclinations will
unqueſtionably ſway; for there is neither Reaſon nor Employments to hinder them,
which are the only Things we have to oppofe to the Importunity of Temptations.
How can I do this Thing, and Sin against God? is an Argument of great Religion;
but to be well employed, and full of honeft Bufinefs, is a much greater Security, in
as much as it is better to be deaf, than parly with the Devil, when he is laying
Snares, and trying to corrupt us. By doing nothing, you fhall quickly learn to do
Evil, it is the Stair below it, and you cannot miſs of ſtepping on it. The Senfes
are awake to every thing that calls; ready to entertain all evil Motions and Sug-
geſtions, comply with all Defires; and, in a Word, to fall into all the Snares that
are laid for them.
Now though theſe Matters do not look, at firſt, as if they any ways belonged to
making due Proviſion for Children: yet Experience will quickly fhew, that all Pro-
vifion elfe, without this Care, will either be to none, or to little purpoſe: A great
Fortune will only prove a great Temptation to Folly and Extravagance, unleſs the
Mind be fitted to it, and prepared to uſe it well and wifely: It will only ferve to
expoſe them to the greater Scorn and Contempt, and fhew their Weakneſs more
confpicuouſly; So that the Kindneſs, Parents are fo forward to exprefs in amaffing
great Eſtates and Fortunes for their Children, will not be fo truly beneficial to them
as they deſign it, unleſs they alſo take more Care about their Education, by inuring
them to Diligence and Induſtry, by accuſtoming them to cloſe Application and At-
tention to whatever they are about, though mean and inconfiderable; for by theſe
means they will contract good Habits, and be fitted for Bufinefs of greater Moment,
when it comes upon them, and fitted to repair the Breaches Chance may make in
their Eftates. And that muft certainly be the beft Provifion for Children, which
will ſtand them in beft ftead in all Conditions; which will help them to raiſe
themſelves from Meannefs to Sufficiency, or Plenty, and help them to improve a
Good one to better, and help them to prevent a Fall, or to bear it well, and to re-
cover it again. This is the Benefit of a good Education, being accuſtomed to pains
and labour both of Body and Mind, whilft young and pliable, and fufceptible of
Impreffions:
Duty of Parents to Children.
251
Impreffions: And therefore this fhould be provided for eſpecially, and in the firſt
Place: This is to be the Bottom and Foundation, and upon this we may build
whatever Good we will, for it will bear it; and, without it, all the reft will fall to
nothing.
I ſhould come, in the next Place, to confider how this Duty of Parents, to pro-
vide for their Children, comes to be fo frequently difpenfed withal, by difinheriting
of Sons, and depriving Daughters of their Fortunes; how thefe Proceedings are re-
concileable with Reafon, Nature, and good Confcience, and the Laws of our Re-
ligion: But this will deferve to be confidered apart, and by itſelf.
DISCOURSE VI.
I TIMOTHY V. VERSE 8.
But if any provide not for his own, and Specially for thoſe of his
own Houfe, he hath denied the Faith, and is worse than an Infidel.
H
:
AVING fhewn already, from thefe Words, the Obligation Parents lie
under to make Proviſion of Things temporal for the Livelihood and Sub-
fiftence of their Children, according to their feveral Ages, Quality, and
Capacities; and laid down ſome Directions withal, how to make fuch
Provifion more ferviceable and uſeful to them, by a prudent Education of them;
and ſhewn alſo, how Chriftians, neglecting fo to do, are faid to deny the Faith, by
not fulfilling, but acting in oppofition to, the Commands of Chrift, which injoin
all Parents to make a due and fitting Proviſion for their Children, and become
thereby worse than Infidels; i. e. than fuch as believe not the Gofpel of Chrift, and
confequently have no other Motives to the diſcharging the Duty they owe their
Children, than what bare Reaſon, and natural Affection, and the civil Laws of their
Country, fuggeſt and offer: Whereas the Chriftians have, moreover, the pofitive
Commands of God, the common Parent of us all, the great Encouragement of
Promiſes of endleſs and ineftimable Recompences, and the Threatnings of everlaſt-
ing Death to the Neglect, or the Contempt of God's Commandments, to ſtir them
to Obedience. I am now to fhew, how this Duty of Parents, to provide for their
Children, comes to be fo frequently diſpenſed withal, by the difinheriting of Sons,
and denying or depriving Daughters of their Fortunes; how thefe Proceedings are
reconcileable with Reafon, Nature, and good Confcience, and the Laws of our
Religion, and then to make an End of this Subject.
That Children ſhould fucceed to their Parents, and inherit their Eftates and Goods,
is agreed, on all Hands, by all Nations that were ever civilized, and governed by
Laws; and the Reaſon is, that no one hath a better Right or Claim to them, whe-
ther we confider the Labour of the Parents in acquiring them, or their Affection to
their Children: For fince they love no Body like their Children, and have a Right
to the Fruits of their own Induſtry and Labour, this Love entitles them beſt to their
Eftates, when they are dead, and have done with them: And therefore the civil
Law, (which is the Publick Reafon) gives to the Children the Eftate of their Pa-
rents, though they die inteftate, and without any Signification of their Will and Plea-
fure;
252
Duty of Parents to Children.
fure; prefuming, that they, who make no Declaration to the contrary, do always
intend to go along with Reaſon and natural Affection, which both beſtow the Eſtates
of Parents on their Children.
But though this be very certain, yet the Manner of proportioning out this Eſtate
to the Children, how it is to be divided among them, is, and hath always been
very uncertain; moft Kingdoms of the World differing from one the other, and
moſt of them, from themſelves, at different times: And indeed, it ſeems to be a
Matter properly determinable by the Laws and Conſtitutions of every Country: For
though we are importuned by many loud and noify Pretences of a Divine Right of
Succeffion, in favour of the eldeſt born; yet, if examined well, the Right of Suc-
ceffion will be found to be built upon prudential Confiderations only, backed with
the Authority of God's Commands to his own People the Jews. When a Child is
born, the Parent fees there is one to inherit what he has, and to fucceed to all his
Labours; and feeks no farther for an Heir. Thus far is natural, that this Child
ſhould enjoy whatever the Parent leaves, and build up his Name and Family, be-
cauſe there is no one elſe to do it: But when, in time, the Parent comes to have
more Children; then the Neceffity of the Eldeft fucceeding grows fomewhat lefs,
becauſe there are more Children that can anfwer to the fame Defign and End, and
build up the Name and Family, as well as the Eldeft; and then the Neceffity is
changed into Decency and Conveniency. It is then moſt decent, that the Elder ſhould
be preferred to the Younger, becauſe he was before him, and has done nothing to
deſerve the being caft behind him: It is Reaſon enough that he ſhould fucceed to
all the Advantages, if there be no Reaſon to the contrary. To be born the firſt,
is, as it were, the lucky Chance that God hath given him; the Lot, by which the
Differences that might arife betwixt the Children of the fame Parents, is decided;
and this is that which I call the Conveniency of the eldeſt Children's fucceeding to
the better Part of their Parents Eſtates: For where that is found Neceffary to the
raiſing and preſerving Families, that the better Part of an Eſtate ſhould go along
with him who is defigned to build up the Name of the Tribe and Houfe, there can
be no Determination made with lefs Exception, or Blame, or occafion of Difpute
and Quarrel, than that the Eldeft fhould fucceed; becaufe, that he fhould be the
Eldeft, was the Determination of God, and not the Artifice or Deſign of any Man.
Add to this, that the Elder may well be prefumed to be the Wifer, and confequent-
ly fitter to be the Head and Father of the Family; and, I believe, there will appear
but little more of Divine Right in the Succeffion of the Eldeft, than of any other,
excepting what is fetched from the Commands of God to his own People the Jews.
That the Eldeſt amongst the Jews were born to many Privileges and Honours,
above the rest of their Brethren, is evident from abundance of Places in the Old
Teſtament; and that they were to inherit their Fathers Poffeffions, appears both
from Command, and from Examples. So in Deut. xxi. 15. If a Man hath two
Wives, one beloved, and another hated, and they have born him Children, both the belo-
ved and the hated: And if the firſt-born Son be her's that was hated; then it shall be,
when he maketh his Sons to inherit that which he hath, that he may not make the Son
of the beloved, Firft-born, before the Son of the hated, which is indeed the Firft-born:
But he shall acknowledge the Son of the Hated for the First-born, by giving him a dou-
ble Portion of all that he hath: For he is the Beginning of his Strength, the Right of
the First-born is his. So Jacob fays, Gen. xlix. 3. Reuben, thou art my Firft-born,
my Might, and the Beginning of my Strength; the Excellency of Dignity, and the Ex-
cellency of Power. As if the Right of the Firſt-born were built on this. From whence
alſo it appears, that the Right of the Firſt-born was a Right to a double Portion of
the Father's Eſtate. Which is feen alfo, 1 Chron. v. 1. Now the Sons of Reuben the
Firft-
*
Duty of Parents to Children.
253
Firſt-born of Ifrael, (for he was the Firft-born, but forafmuch as he defiled his Father's
Bed, his Birth-right was given unto the Sons of Jofeph, &c. Not that the Sons of
Jofeph had the Dignity or Principality above their Brethren; but that Jofeph's Chil-
dren were the Heads of two Tribes, which was a double Portion, the Right of the
Firſt-born. So Solomon bids his Mother aſk for Adonijah the Kingdom alfo, for he was
his elder Brother: And ſo it is ſaid of Jehofaphat, 2 Chron. xxi. 3. that he
gave his
Sons great Gifts of Silver and of Gold, and of precious Things, with fenced Cities in
Judah; but the Kingdom gave he to Jehoram, because he was the Firft-born. So that
it need not be doubted, but that, amongst the Jews, the Firſt-born fucceeded to
at leaſt a double Portion of all that the Father had, by God's Appointment and
Command; and might lay claim to it by a Divine Right: But how any one elſe,
but Jews, can make fuch claim to fuch Succeffion, is not yet fo manifeft. But how
then can the difinheriting of Children become a Cafe of Confcience, if fo be that
the Laws and Commands of God to the Jews, in theſe Matters, affect not Chri-
tians? In anſwer to which, we ſay, that a Command of God to the Jews, nei-
ther is, nor ought to be, the Rule of Conſcience to Chriſtians, any farther than ſuch
Command is agreeable to the Light of Nature, and good Reafon: And they who,
through Weakneſs, and an undue Application of fuch Command to themſelves,
think themſelves thereby obliged, are under a Miſtake, and bring upon themſelves
a new Yoak; for a Command to the Jews, obliges Jews only: But when a Com
mand of God to the Jews carries its Reaſon, Decency and Conveniency along with
it; when the wife and civilized People of moſt Nations adopt it into their own
Country Laws, and when the Ufages and Cuſtoms of ones own Land run the
fame Way, and there is nothing better and more reaſonable to object to it; then
fuch Command of God to the Jews, begins to look as if it affected Chriftians alfo:
It looks, I fay, as if it did, but indeed it does not; for it is, in truth, the Weight of
theſe other Confiderations that enforces fuch Command: And becauſe it has had the
Honour of being commanded by God, Men prefer it, and make it a Rule to them-
ſelves, which yet, for its own fake, and without thoſe other Confiderations, they
never would: as appears from our paffing by a great many Commands of God to
the Jews, without any Manner of regard had to them, only becauſe we do not find
them reaſonable in themſelves, nor convenient for us.
The difinheriting of Children therefore becomes a Cafe of Conſcience, upon thefe
Confiderations, to Chriftians: The Chriftian Law commands all Parents to make
a reaſonable and due Proviſion for their Children; but becauſe this is general and
indefinite, and a Man is as much to feek, as before, what Quantity and Proportion
of Provifion he is obliged to make, therefore he looks out for a more particular
Rule of Direction in this Matter: And finding that the Laws of wife and civil Na-
tions have, at all times, generally agreed to prefer the Firſt-born to a confiderable
Share of the Father's Eftate, beyond the reft, for the raifing and preſerving Fami-
lies, and for the avoiding many Miſchiefs, and for other good Reafons; and that
the Laws of God himſelf to his own People were the fame, and that the Laws
and Cuſtoms of his own Country agree to it, and that there is nothing reaſonable
or material to object, or oppofe to fo doing, the Confcience cannot find a better
Rule to walk by; and fince it will walk by fome or other, it will moſt reaſonably
chooſe the beſt, and that which is leaſt liable to exceptions and inconveniencies.
Since therefore theſe are the Reaſons and Confiderations, that induce an Obliga-
tion on the Confciences of Parents to make fuch a particular Provifion for their
eldeſt Children, by leaving them the better Part of their Eftates, they will unavoida-
bly feel Concern and Trouble when they offend againſt this Rule, without fufficient
Cauſe and Reaſon; ſuch Cauſe and Reaſon as wife and civil Nations affign and
allow of by their Laws and Customs.
2 X
The
254
Duty of Parents to Children.
The Cauſes, that are commonly affigned to justify Parents difinheriting their Chil-
dren, are a great many: I will only mention the moſt confiderable. And, Firft,
the ftriking of Parents has been all along eſteemed a fufficient Cauſe for the difinhe-
riting and caſting off Children: There feems to be fo much Undutifulneſs and Im-
piety in fuch Violence, that one cannot hear of fuch an Action, without defiring
and affenting to its Puniſhment. The Ancients allowed but of two Excufes for
this Crime; the one was, when they could not poffibly avoid a huge Miſchief from
their Parents without ftriking them: It muſt be in defending themſelves; and that
not from a ſmall Correction, or a little Suffering, but from fome Blow that might
endanger them; fome Evil, that could not be prefumed to be intended by a Parent
to a Child, but might be the Effect of a blind and unadviſed Rage: In fuch a Caſe
it was excuſed, rather than allowed, if a Child ſhould ſtrike his Parent: They did
not, for this Misfortune, think he deſerved to be undone, and difinherited; becauſe
they believed the Parent himſelf, when he recovered his Sobriety of Mind, and
uſual Calm, would be glad to find a great Miſchief prevented by fuch Oppoſition.
The other Excuſe, of Children wounding or ſtriking Parents, was; if it were done
in fighting for, and defending their Country: The Ancients preferred the Liberties
and Safety of their Country to all other Confiderations whatſoever: If we do not
ſo too, it is not that we have either more Reaſon, Honour, or Religion, than they
had; but a more contracted, narrow Mind, and Intereft to think on. If it had
happened that a Father took Part with the Enemies of his Country, and in Fight
were met and wounded by his Son: the Father afterwards might not, for this, be-
ſtow his Birth-right on another; he was not hereby prefumed undutiful or impious,
nor to be puniſhed as fuch: The Duty he owed his Country was antecedent to, and
greater than what he owed his Parent; and the Parent was in a wrong Place when
he fuffered at his Hands. And yet, for any Caufe befides, or upon any other Ac-
count than theſe two, the Children might not touch the Hair of the Parents Head,
nor lift up an Hand againſt them, without falling from all the Right and Advan-
tage their Birth and Defcent might entitle them to.
Another Caufe, that juſtified the Parent's difinheriting his Child, was, the be-
ing found to have contrived his Death by Poiſon, or other fecret Method
the having laid Snares to intrap him into any Miſchief: He was defervedly thought
unworthy to receive any Benefit from the Parents, who had contrived, or was
privy to any Deſign of doing them any Miſchief, not only to the taking away
their Life, but to the hurting them in Body or Eftate. Nay, if the Children did
but accuſe their Parents of any Crime, by which they were brought into hazard of
either Baniſhment, or Mutilation, or of lofing their Lives, and the Parents were ac-
quitted, if the Children did this voluntarily, and without Conftraint, the Parents
might juſtly diſinherit them, and caft them off, although this Accufation were of
a Crime committed againſt the State: And that, without Contradiction to what has
been ſaid before; for a Child is only authorized to oppoſe the Parent, even to his
Miſchief, when he is openly and manifeftly in War againſt his Country; but not
when the Matter is only fufpected, and not proved, as in Accufations it is not:
For Children are prefumed to think the beſt of their Parents, and to conftrue every
thing in their favour, and not to be convinced, when it is againſt them, but by
plain and evident Matter of Fact: And therefore an Accufer of his Parents has
been all along looked upon as a malicious, odious Creature, and therefore
to be cut off from all their Favour.
very fit
Theſe Things touch the Parents Perfon, and are immediately the Effects of the
Childrens ill Intentions; they are concerned in them: There are other Cauſes that
juſtify the Parent difinheriting Children, when they are only negligent of their Duty,
either
Duty of Parents to Children.
255
either carelefly or defignedly; when the Parent falls into Frenzy, or any fuch Dif-
ability; when he is taken Captive by Enemies abroad, or impriſoned at home; if the
Child neglect either to look carefully after him, and to make due Proviſion for him;
or to get him ſet at Liberty, if it be in his Power: All theſe Cafes afford the Parent,
when he recovers his Underſtanding and his Freedom, juft Occafion of difinheri
ting, and throwing by fuch Child; for every Body fees he was unnatural, and de-
ferves no Favour. It is but fit that he ſhould be, in his turn, neglected and expo-
ſed, who ſuffered his Parent to be ſo ſerved, when he could, with his Eaſe, have
hindered it. With his Eafe, we muſt add; for we muſt not haftily conclude, that
all Children offend againſt their Duty, who do not pay their Parents Debts, and de-
liver them from Bonds and Imprifonment: For fometimes the Children are juſt able
to live themſelves, and have Families of their own to maintain; and, if they ſhould
diſcharge their Parents Debts, muft contract new ones of their own: And fome-
times Parents are fo extravagant, that there would be no end of paying for them.
And therefore all things muſt be well confidered, before we condemn the Children
who fuffer their Parents to lie in Priſon or Captivity: And we muſt ſay, at preſent,
that they who can, with Eafe, or with no great Diſeaſe and Inconveniency, deli-
ver them from any Hardſhips, are fo much obliged to do it, that the Neglect thereof
is juſtly puniſhable with difinheriting, whenever the Parent recovers to an Ability
of leaving them, or depriving them of, any Eſtate.
The other Cauſes, that are affigned to juſtify the difinheriting Children, are ſuch
as concern not the Parent's Perfon, but his Fame and Reputation in fome Reſpects:
When their Faults are ſcandalous, and reflect Diſgrace and Infamy upon the Parents
and the Family; when they are extremely wicked and immoral, and give no hopes
of Reformation and Amendment, but are, to all Appearance, irreclaimable. Vice
and Virtue are of as much Importance, and therefore as much to be confidered by
Laws, as Right and Wrong, in the building and preſerving Families and Tribes:
And it tends exceedingly to the Advantage of a State and Government, that Virtue
in Children have the Encouragement of hoping to fucceed to their Father's Eſtate,
and that notorious Vice ſhould receive the like Difcouragement. There is no Body
thinks, that the Compaffions of Nature (which are oftentimes its Weakneſs) ſhould
it above the Confiderations of Virtue and Goodneſs, i. e. that a Child ſhould,
without difpute, fucceed to all the Advantages of Honour and Eſtate, let him be
never fo vicious and immoral, and every way unworthy of his Birth and Educa-
tion, only becauſe he happened to be born of ſuch Parents. A Parent has not a
Method more likely to fucceed, nor any Reſtraint more powerful over the infolent
or vicious Tempers of Children, than the Power of putting them by their Eſtates,
when they make themſelves unworthy of them: And therefore it is the greater
Wonder, and the greater Pity alſo, to fee fome Parents fo unadviſedly diveft them-
felves of this Power before their time, by putting their Children in full Poffeffion of
what they have before their Death.
carry
The Cafe indeed may ſometimes happen, when it may be fit and reaſonable, and
profitable fo to do; but it is but very feldom, and the Neceffity ought to be preſ‐
fing, and the Advantage very great and certain before it is done; becauſe the Events of
fuch a Practice have been often mischievous, and very pitiable. The Children thank
them once for all; they thank them once for that, whoſe Hope would have kept
them in a dutiful Dependance all their Lives long: This forward, and intended
Kindneſs of the Parents has made many Children ungracious and unnatural, that
would have been, at leaſt to all Appearance, both dutiful and obfervant, if they
had held them ſtill in Hope and Expectation. There is a huge Difference to be made
betwixt a fordid and unnatural Clofenefs, that will part with nothing to Children
before
256
Duty of Parents to Children.
before Death, and fuch an open and profufe Folly, as will part with every Thing,
and lay the Parent at the Mercy of the Child. In ſuch a Caſe, the Parent lets go
the hold he has upon his Children, and lofes one of the moſt effectual Means of
keeping them dutiful and good, and virtuous and obedient: For when there is no
more Expectation, there will be no more Dependance; and then it will be well, if
they only grow neglectful, and not alfo infolent and unnatural.
But this a little by the by, when I was fhewing how reaſonable and juſtifiable it
is in Parents to difinherit Children, whofe Immoralities and Wickedneſs cry loud to
Heaven, and reflect Shame and Diſhonour on the Family, and exclude all hope of
Reformation, or of being an uſeful Member of the Commonwealth: And there-
fore if a Daughter were, at any Time, found to have tranfgreffed the Laws of Ho-
nour and Virtue, ſhe was, without any farther Confideration, left to the Pity of her
Parents, and could lay claim to no Proviſion, either by the Laws of God or Man.
You fee that all theſe Caufes are fo reaſonable and preffing, that, at the first hearing
and confidering them, they juſtify the Parents difinheriting their Children: They
leave no matter of Complaint or Murmuring behind them: When once we are
convinced the Children are guilty of any of thefe Things, we acquit the Parents
caſting them off; and the Parents are acquitted by themſelves; their Conſcience
makes them no Reproaches of Cruelty, Injuſtice, or want of natural Affection, to
their Children. In all theſe Caſes, the Childrens Offences difpence with the Parents
Duty, and remove or fet afide their Obligation to make Provifion for them; and,
without theſe Faults, a Parent will neither be eafy nor innocent in cafting off his
Children: He muſt not therefore adviſe only with his own Paffion or Humour, but
with the Laws and Cuſtoms of his Country; he muſt have ſuch Reaſons as other
People will approve, and fuch Cauſe as will juſtify him to fuch as know the Cafe,
though Strangers to him: Nay, though the Laws and Cuſtoms may leave a Man to
act very Arbitrarily, yet it will not be long Satisfactorily, unleſs there appear good
Reafon at the Bottom. A Parent will not be eafy after the fit of Anger is over, in
cafting off his Child; unleſs there be better Reaſon for fo doing than appears to
the World, or Reaſon enough appearing, to juſtify him to others, in what he does.
A Man can never deſpiſe the Opinion of the World, or bear a hard Cenſure with
Eafe, unleſs he know fomething more of the Matter than the World knows, or
think himſelf injured by ſuch Cenfure; and therefore a Parent muſt know of more
Offences and Provocations than other People know of, to be eaſy in rejecting his
Child, or other People muſt know enough to juſtify him. Theſe Things are not
well enough confidered by all Parents, who exerciſe this fupreme Authority over
their Children, and difinherit them, and caft them off, for weak and trivial Cauſes.
Sometimes, for no better Reaſon than fome Unfightliness or ill Shape, as if the Pa-
rents Fancy (unnaturally nice) were to pafs for Judgment, and the Children muſt be
puniſhed for what they cannot help, and for what the Parents are themſelves to
blame too often. Sometimes for a defect of Parts and Abilities, not fuch as would
fuffice for the Plain and Honeft purpoſes of Life; but fuch as are to render them
accompliſhed and agreeable, which are often too near to forwardneſs and vanity, and
confidence, and might be better ſpared. Sometimes for fome Perfonal Diflike, which
is really at the Bottom unaccountable, and therefore blameable; for Parents never
must pretend Antipathy and natural Averſion to their Children; the Subject will not
bear it, and whatever Parent feels it, he ought to fufpect himſelf of ſomething much
amifs, and it will never paſs for a good Excufe for neglecting Children. Some-
times they throw them off for fmall Miſcarriages, and little venial Faults, that
might be pardoned to a tolerably good Servant, and fhould be overlooked in Children,
It is plain, from many pofitive Commands, and many Prohibitions, in Holy Scrip-
tures,
Duty of Parents to Children.
257
tures, as well as from Experience and Examples; that Parents can be hard and
unnatural to their Children, and do them great Injury; or elſe it would be ftrange
to tell them, that they ought to confider and make Allowances for the Miſcarriages
of their Children, to remember they are heedleſs, wanton, and unmindful of the
Confequences of their Actions, and deferve Forgiveneſs, even when fome fits of Ob-
ſtinacy will not, for the preſent, let them aſk it; and that it would be over-rigorous
to take Advantage of them.
Sometimes it alſo happens, that the Children are difpoffeffed, firſt of the Father's
Love, and then of all their Hopes of Succeffion, by wrong Surmife or falſe Sug-
geſtion; they are unhappily miſtaken of ill Deſigns by the Parents themſelves, or
fecretly accuſed by others of fomething that will make them odious to their Parents,
and unworthy of their Favour. Sometimes the fecond Wife is to make way to the
Inheritance for her own Children, by falfe and foft Infinuations, to the Prejudice
of the Children of the firſt Marriage, and fometimes by downright Accufation of
them; and ſometimes this ill Province falls to the fhare of other Kinſmen and Re-
lations, whofe Proſpect of fucceeding is not very diftant. Nothing can well be
more malicious and wicked than this, and the leaſt that a Parent can do, will be
to confider, who, and whofe Friends they are, that come to provoke and fet him
againſt his own Children; he ought in Reaſon to ſuſpect ſuch as ſhall certainly be
Gainers, if his Diſpleaſure take effect, and proceed to difinheriting: He is obliged
very cautious how he admits of Accufations, and to weigh all things well, be-
fore he believe: for the Peace of his Mind will very much depend upon the Care
and Diligence he ufes to get good Information. And here it is, that it feems proper
to meet with an Obfervation, which, they fay, [Biſhop Sanderfon's Serm. 14. ad Aul.
p. 199.] is grounded upon manifold Experience, that where the right Heirs have been
difinherited, upon almoft whatſoever Pretence, the Bleſſing of God hath not usually fol-
lowed upon the Perfons, and feldom hath the Eftate profpered in the Hands of thoſe that
have fucceeded in their rooms. It is with this Obfervation, I believe, as with most
others, (where the Judgments of God are called in to execute Vengeance) that one
or two Examples either make a Rule, or confirm it, if made before; and a hundred
others go for nothing, or are overlooked, that do not fall in with fuch a Maxim,
eſpecially when it is on the Side of Juftice and Religion, to all Appearance.
to be
A Parent may moft certainly difinherit his Son, for good Caufes, fuch as Ï have
been already mentioning, with the Confent of Reaſon and Senfe, the Laws and Cuf
toms of wife Nations, and the Examples of the beſt Men, and with the Approba-
tion of God's Law, and his own Confcience, as certainly as he may do any thing
elſe: And when this guilty Perfon is removed, why the next Heir may not fucceed
without any Terror on his Mind, or Apprehenfion of God's Anger and Judgments
to follow, one can never ſee a Reaſon. What Place can the Anger of God, or his
Judgments have, where neither the Parent nor the Succeffor have finned? If, in-
deed, the Parent do wilfully, furiouſly, and without juſt Cauſe, difinherit the eldeſt
Son, God may, if he ſee fit, (and that is all) puniſh the Injuſtice of the Parent, in
bringing to miſery the appointed Heir; or if the appointed Heir has, by unjuſt and
wicked Means, by Lies and falfe Suggeſtions, abuſed his Parent, and excited him
to difinherit the true Heir, he may be Debtor to God's Juſtice in this World, and
be puniſhed for fuch wicked Fraud, either in his Perſon or Eftate, or both, as God
pleaſes: But when a Man comes innocently, and without his fault or feeking, to in-
herit an Eſtate, there can be no Reaſon to fear God's Anger, or apprehend his Judg-
ments, or the want of his Bleffing, if he do not otherwſe provoke him. The truth
of it is, Mankind is very prone to Superftition; and entertains very greedily fuch
Maxims and Obſervations as have a face of Piety and Juftice, and cloſe with the
2 Y
Fondneſs
258
Duty of Parents to Children.
Fondneſs of natural Affections, though in truth there be no good Reafon at the
Bottom, if well examined: And then, when a Man falls into any Misfortunes,
(as there are few who do not, and have not their Lives more than chequered with
them) the Eyes of People are upon him; and if he be before marked out by any
of theſe Rules, and in a Condition capable of having them applied to him, his Mif-
fortunes fhall undoubtedly be afcribed to his Condition, and be called the Effects
of God's Judgments due to him upon fuch Accounts, and for fuch Reafons. A
very falſe, and hazardous, uncharitable Way of judging.
This is what I thought convenient to fay upon the matter of Peoples difinheriting
and rejecting their Children, who are yet obliged, by the Chriftian Religion, to
make all due and fitting Provifion for them: Theſe are the Reaſons that juſtify
the Parents in cafting them off, and difpence with all their Obligations; and what-
ever Parent will act arbitrarily, and without them, will never be able to be at quiet
in his own Mind, or perform the Duty he owes to his Children; he muſt needs
be ſelf-condemned, and, with St. Paul, worse than an Infidel.
I will make an End of this Subject, when I have made this one Obſervation more;
that the Parents, who confume their whole Eftate, with which they ſhould provide
for their Children, in Gaming, Drinking, Riot, Luxury, and finful Pleaſures, are
in no better Condition, nor do any better diſcharge their Duty to their Children,
than they, who, for little or no Caufe, Anger, Folly, or Humour, difinherit their
Children, and cut them off from their Eſtates. There is, indeed, great Difference
betwixt the Minds and Affections of thefe two Sorts of Parents, but the Effect to
the Children is the fame: And fince the Commands of God to Parents, to make
Provifion for the Children, are given for the Childrens fakes; if theſe Commands.
take not Effect, it is all one to them what it is that hinders it: They are full as
deſtitute and helpleſs by their Parents Neglect, as they could be by their Diſpleaſure;
and they become as miferable when the Parents Luxury and Vice deprive them of
their Maintenance, as when they are difinherited through cauflefs Anger, and by
falfe Suggeſtions. And a Parent, who is thus abuſed into the wronging of his Chil-
dren, is much more innocent and pitiable, than he who riotously, vainly, and vi-
ciouſly ſpends the Eſtate that might and ſhould contribute to his Childrens Sufte-
nance and Welfare; becauſe this Man does willingly deprive himſelf of the Means
of doing his Duty: And the other, who is abuſed, is under a Force and Conſtraint,
acting reaſonably to himſelf, though miſtaken through the Faults of other People.
And therefore, theſe luxurious fooliſh Spenders, when they come to die, or are by
Mifery reduced before-hand to confider, cannot fatisfy themſelves with knowing,
and remembring, that they never had any Thought or Intention to wrong their Chil-
dren, but loved them infinitely, and wiſhed them all the Happineſs imaginable : They
cannot fatisfy themſelves with this, whilft, through their Folly, and their Negli-
gence, they ſee thoſe Children miferable, that might and ſhould have been provided
for: And it is not enough for them to grieve, as they will naturally do, at the
Misfortunes of their Children; but they ought to repent, and aſk God's Pardon, for
they have trefpaffed againſt him, by the Neglect of their Duty; for that, I have fhewed
you, is the Way which the Chriſtian Religion takes to make all People in the World
happy: It binds the natural and civil Duties upon all related and concerned, with
ſtrong and ſtrict Commands of God, under fevere Penalties, and huge Rewards; fo
that whatever Chriſtian now neglects the Performance of them, he ſhall not only be
accounted heedlefs, ill adviſed, and unnatural; but highly finful and provokng, and
fhall, without Repentance, be feverely puniſhed. He is eſteemed to deny the Faith,
and to be worſe than an Infidel: And therefore it will be more tolerable for them in
the Day of Judgment, than for him.
DISCOURSE
259
DISCOURSE VII.
I PETER III. VERSES I, 2.
Ye Wives, be in Subjection to your own Husbands; that if any obey
not the Word, they also may, without the Word, be won by the
Converſation of the Wives: While they behold their chaft Con-
verfation coupled with Fear.
T
HE Scripture does, in a great many Places, lay moſt exprefs Commands
on Wives, to live in Subjection to their Huſbands; but I chooſe, in treat-
ing of this Duty, to ſpeak to this Paſſage in St. Peter, becauſe it contains not
only the Command; but one of the good Effects of fuch Submiſſion, which
is a great Encouragement to the fulfilling it; for when a Law carries its Reafon
with it, it is more likely to find a good Acceptance and Compliance, eſpecially
with quick and difputing People, than when it comes armed only with its own
Authority and Power. The Command in the Text is to Wives, to be in Subjection.
to their Husbands. The Encouragement to Obedience is the great Likelihood of
good Effects to follow, the winning over the unbelieving Huſband; that if any
obey not the Word, they may, without the Word, be won by the Converſation of the Wife:
Which Converſation is to be chaft, and with Fear; while they behold their chaft Con-
verfation coupled with Fear. Which laſt Words, (as alſo the three Verſes following)
are either an Explanation of what it is, to be in Subjection to Husbands; or a De-
fcription of fuch Qualifications as will make a very good Wife to her Huſband, and
acceptable to God; and will therefore come, in Time, to be confidered at large.
In the mean Time, let us fee a little, in the firſt Place, to the Command; Wives,
be in Subjection to your own Hufbands.
It is impoffible for any Company of People to ſubſiſt any while together, with
out a Subordination of one to the other. Where all will command, none will obey;
and then there will be nothing done but Miſchief. We fee, when People meet,
who have no Pretenfions one upon another, they are fain to agree among them-
felves to allow a Preference, and ſome kind of Superiority to fome of the Compa-
ny, that Buſineſs may be done; they govern themſelves either by known eſtabliſhed
Rules and Cuſtoms of Honour and Ceremony, or elſe they confider Age, Capacity,
or Experience: Something or other there is, that determines their Choice, becaufe
they find it abfolutely neceffary to filence the Pretences of every Man, by preferring
fome or other, that they may obtain the End of their affembling. Even among
Friends and Equals, where the leaſt Pretence to Pre-eminence would diffolve the
Friendſhip, and break up all the Intercourſe, yet is there a Neceffity that one ſhould
yield it to the other; and fo they do, to make the Converfation ufeful: And the
longer People are to live together, the greater is the Neceffity of Subordination and
Subjection one to another; becauſe there will unavoidably riſe ſtill more and more
Occafions of Divifion and Difference, which will require the greater Unity: Now
there can be no fuch thing as Unity, where two Parties contend for, or pretend
to fuperiority, or fuch Equality as will not yield. All this is evident in Kingdoms,
Provinces, Cities, and private Corporations, either great or little. And this fhould
1
help
260
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
1
help to convince the Wives, who are now going to make up a Family, that there
is an abfolute Neceffity of Government, which ſuppoſes Subjection fome where or
other: They muſt needs fee, that every Family (the Original, indeed, and Madel
of Bodies Corporate, Cities, and Commonwealths) muſt have its proper Superiour,
whom all the reſt muſt needs obey.
And when they are convinced of this great Article, the next Enquiry is to be,
whether this Superiority, that is ſo unavoidably neceffary to the Support of Rule and
Order, is well and rightly placed in Hufbands, rather than in Wives: And for this,
they are to confider; ft. Where Nature has defigned this Sovereignty: 2dly. Where
Uſe and Cuſtom have placed it: And, laſtly, what the Laws of God fay to the
Matter. ft. They are to confider where Nature has defigned this Sovereignty:
And that we may well prefume to be, where the has given the greateſt Strength
and Abilities; where fhe has made the Body and the Mind fitteft to undergo the
Toils and Labours that are abfolutely neceffary to the Being and Well-being of the
World; to the carrying on Buſineſs at home, and Trade abroad; to the defending
one's Country from foreign Foes, and to the adminiftring Juſtice to one another:
Now where we perceive Nature has beft qualified her Creatures for Performance
of theſe Functions, that are fo neceffary, that the World cannot ſubſiſt in Peace
and Order without them, we may very fafely conclude fhe defigned to place the
Superiority. Now, whether Women have naturally Strength and Abilities of Body
and Mind to go through theſe Things, if Men ſhould for a while neglect them,
need not be queſtioned: It is demonftrably certain that they have not; and if they
have not, who ſhould do them but Men, whom Nature hath fitted for it? And in as
much as Nature hath made Men neceffary for theſe Works, ſhe hath made them
fuperior to fuch as are not able to do them; for where People are in other Reſpects
equal, Strength of Body and Capacity of Mind will undoubtedly make them Su-
periour. We find it is fo in all the Creatures of the World befides. And though
there are a great many Inſtances of the contrary, yet they will never avail to the
overthrowing the vifibie Defign of Nature: Though there be many Women fupe-
riour to many Men in Strength of Body, and Abilities of Mind, in Finenefs of
Parts, Greatneſs of Capacity, Soundneſs of Judgment, and Strength and Faithfulneſs
of Memory; yet the Number of fuch neither is, nor ever was, nor ever will be,
great enough to fhew, that Nature intended to give that Sex the Superiority over
the Men: And though Uſe and Education might make fome Alteration in the Caſe,
yet
all the Uſe and Education in the World would never fit them for the Perfor-
mances of the great Buſineſſes, above-mentioned, of Trade and Merchandize, and
making Wars abroad, and executing Juftice at home: The Abilities of managing
which, are evident Indications of Nature's intending to make the Men fuperiour to
the Women.
And, agreeable to this manifeſt Deſign of Nature, have been the Uſages and Cuf
toms of all Countries in the World, at all times; which was the fecond thing to be
enquired after. Theſe indeed have been fo much to the Diſadvantage of that Sex,
that, without all doubt, they have done it manifeft Injury, and have not had fo great
Regard to it, as in all Reaſon and Senſe they ought to have had: So far from dif-
puting the Priority with them, that they have placed them but a little above their
Slaves, or menial Servants, contrary to reafon and decency, and the Deſign of Na-
ture, who intended them for Friends and Companions in all their Fortunes. Even
the Nations, that have been accounted wifeſt and moſt civilized, have yet allowed
them to be only made for the Solace of Mankind, the Care of fome domeſtick
Matters, and the Continuance of the World, and would let them bear no other Part
in it; fo that the Searches after the Ufages and Cuſtoms of all Times, will be but
ſhort, and do them little Service.
They
Daty of Wives to Husbands.
261
They have only, in the Third and laſt Place, to enquire, what help Religion and
the Laws of God afford, the Sanctuary of all the Weak, and which provide Secu-
rity againſt Oppreffion and Injuſtice. When St. Paul is giving Rules to the Women,
1. Tim. ii. he ſays, amongſt other Things, v. 11, 12. Let the Women learn in filence';
with all Subjection: But I fuffer not a Woman to teach, (i. e. in publick) nor to ufurp
Authority over the Man, but to be in Silence: And then ſubjoins theſe Reaſons, For
Adam was first formed, then Eve: And Adam was not deceived, (i. e. firſt) but the
Woman being deceived, was (firſt,) in the Tranfgreffion. From whence it appears,
that he makes the Creation or Formation of Eve after Adam, to be one Reafon of
her Subjection: And this Reaſon would have held good, if both had continued
innocent, for it was a Reaſon before they tranfgreffed; and therefore St. Paul urges
the Subjection of all Women to their Huſbands, upon that Account, becauſe the
firft of Men was before the firft of Women. But the fecond Reafon of the Wo-
man's Subjection, is fetched from Eve's being firſt in the Tranfgreffion: She was
deceived firft, and then deceived her Hufband; fhe was undone by diſobeying God,
and he undone by following her; ſhe muſt therefore Rule no more: It was Part of
her Curſe and Puniſhment, that her Defire ſhould be to her Hufband, or ſubject to
her Husband, and he ſhould Rule over her. Well, but how could this Subjection
of the Woman to her Hufband be a Part of the Curfe and Puniſhment for her
Tranfgreffion, when it is plain ſhe was to be in Subjection; even in Paradiſe, and
State of Innocence, by vertue of Adam's being first formed, and then Eve? which is
St. Paul's Argument. To reconcile theſe Things, we muſt know, that Subjection
in Paradife would have been no Taſk or Burthen; it would have been more eaſy
and delightful to obey in that State, than it can be now to command: It would
not indeed have been Obedience, but the doing all they liked and loved themſelves:
Man would have then had no Folly, Vanity, Pride, Self-conceit or Ill-nature, from
whence proceed all idle, harſh; ungrateful, and imperious Orders: But all his
Thoughts, Words and Defigns, would have been wife and reaſonable, juſt and
kind, regular and orderly, fo that the Execution of them would have been
moſt eaſy and delightful; they would have carried their Conviction along with
them; they would have all appeared fo uſeful, fo becoming, and fo neceffary
to their Good, that Women would have haftned, with great Pleaſure, to perform
them: They would themſelves alſo have wanted that extraordinary good Opinion
of their Worth and Abilities, which makes them frequently perverfe and difputa-
tious, when any thing is enjoined them; and confequently, would not have found
that Rifing and Refiſtency within, which now they do: In a Word, all things elſe,
as well as themſelves, would have been much otherwiſe than now they are; and
therefore Subjection would have been no Burthen to the Women, nor the Command
have given any great Authority to the Men. To make Subjection therefore Part of
the Curfe, and Puniſhment affixed to Eve, and her Pofterity of the fame Sex; it muſt
needs be, that Subjection ſhould be in things difficult and unacceptable, againſt their
Will and Defire, a Subjection to many vain and idle, to many froward and un-
kind, to many injurious and auftere Commands, which the fooliſh, fevere, impe-
rious Humours of the Hufbands lay upon them: To have their Defire to their Huf
bands, fignifies here, to be fubject to their Wills. You fhall not be Miſtreſs of your
felf, nor have any Defire fatisfied, but what is approved of by your Hufband; you
ſhall be wholly under his Power and Tutelage, he ſhall command you many Things
that you diflike, and yet you fhall obey: As unreaſonable and extravagant as his
Defire ſhall often appear to you, yet it fhall govern you; and you fhall have no
other to take Place, but when he finds it fit to yield it to you.
2 Zi
It
262
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
It is impoffible to make lefs of a Puniſhment and Curfe, than this; and fince St.
Paul founds this unacceptable Subjection of the Wives to their Husbands, upon this
Place in Genefis, wherein God lays it on them as a Puniſhment for Eve's being firſt
in the Tranfgreffion, it is impoffible any way to avoid it; and as manifeft it is, that fo
it has been commanded by God, from the Beginning of the World. This Subjection
is not therefore founded only on the Power and Strength and fuperiour Abilities, with
which it pleaſed God to endue Men, above the Women; nor on the Uſages and
Cuſtoms of the World, (which Power and Strength will always have upon their
Side) but moſt eſpecially on God's Commands, laying it as a Puniſhment on the Sex,
for the forward Tranfgreffion of their firſt Mother; and that it might not be evaded,
as a Curſe and Puniſhment, which all People may avoid as much as they can, the
fame Thing is commanded over and over again in the New Teftament, as in Coloff.
iii. 18. Wives, fubmit your felves unto your own Huſbands, as it is fit, in the Lord. So
in Eph. v. 22. Wives, fubmit your felves unto your own Hufbands, as unto the Lord;
for the Huſband is the Head of the Wife, even as Chrift is the Head of the Church; and
concludes, let the Wife fee that fhe reverence her Husband: And fo in many other
places, as well as in the Text. But becauſe to be in Subjection, is a Phrafe of in-
definite and uncertain Senfe, fince all Inferiours are commanded to be fubject to the
higheſt Powers, and Children to their Parents, and Servants to their Maſters, and
Men to one another, as well as Wives to their Huſbands; it will be needful for
them to know, in what Particulars the Wives must be in Subjection to their Huf-
bands; for a Subject cannot obey his King, a Son his Father, nor a Servant his Ma-
fter, in all Things; but each Superiour has his proper and peculiar Sway, and each
Inferiour has a limited Subjection: There is fomething that fets out the Bounds of
every one's Power, and every one's Obedience, and the Tranfgreffors of them be-
come on one fide Tyrants and Ufurpers, and on the other diſobedient Rebels: And
ſo it is with Wives and Huſbands; the one may exerciſe a Power that belongs not
to them; and the other refuſe Submiffion where it is due, and ſhould be paid. It
is therefore certain, that a Wife owes no Subjection to her Huſband, againſt the
Laws of either God, or Man: Religion and good Morals claim the firſt place in
her Obedience; and though, I think, the Laws, or rather Cuſtoms, of the Land
are very tender to Women offending in the Company of their Huſbands, as prefu-
ming them under Command and fome kind of Conſtraint from them, yet Religion
has no fuch Confideration, but includes them all under Sin, who commit any finful
Actions; and no Command or Example of a Huſband will excufe a Wife offending
againſt a known Law of God, or doing any thing immoral. She owes him no
Subjection in ſuch Matters; he is himſelf a Rebel to their common Lord and Ma-
fter, whilſt commanding any fuch unlawful Action. But in other Matters common
and indifferent, their Difobedience will be faulty, where Reaſon, and Diſcretion,
allowed of Cuſtom, Decency, and good Fame, will not make their Excufe. Where
Men's Commands are evidently unreaſonable, ſhamefully indiſcreet, unuſual and
unheard of, infamous, or unbecoming their Age, their Credit, Quality and Condi-
tion, they may be fafely paffed by; omitted, rather than neglected or defpifed: And
becauſe it will be afked, who fhall be Judges in fuch Cafe; the Wives muſt take
good Care, that the Commands which they comply not with, may be ſuch as will
juſtify them to any wife impartial People; fo that, who will be Judges, they may
reaſonably excuſe their Non-compliance, and condemn the Men that gave fuch Or-
ders: It will not be enough for Wives to oppoſe their Wills to the Wills of their Huf-
bands, nor Reaſons to Reaſons, unleſs apparently unequal; becauſe, in both theſe
Cafes, they do evidently contend for Maſtery; for if the Will and Reaſon of one
be equal to the other's, it is ſomething beſides that muſt determine who ſhall yield;
and then we muft recur to what hath been before faid, to know who is Superiour.
The
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
263
The Truth of it is, the People, who ought to confider thefe Things beſt; arë
they who never trouble their Heads about them; fo far from enquiring where, and
when they must obey, and in what Cafes they are at Liberty, that they are evermore
at Liberty, and never are in Subjection at all, though in the moft reafonable and
handſome Caſes that are; but forget their Duty and their Sex together. They con-
fider not Subjection and Submiffion, in theſe Inftances, as concerned in Religion or
Confcience at all; as if they were not commanded by God as certainly, as Obedi-
ence of Subjects to their Princes, of Children to their Parents, and Servants to their
Maſters: Subjection, in all theſe, looks like religious, and relating to the Confci-
ence, and obliging thofe concerned by vertue of God's Command; and why the be-
ing in Subjection to their Husbands ſhould not concern the Confciences of Wives as
much, they will never be able to give a Reafon: I have already fhewed them, that
the Laws of God do pofitively charge it on them.
But becauſe Subjection, in this Place and Argument, does not only fignify bare
Submiffion to the Will and Pleaſure of Hufbands, but includes alfo other Qualifica-
tions, fuch as may make them acceptable both to God, and Men; they alfo are to
come into Confideration, when we are treating of the Duty of Wives: And the firft
that is here mentioned, is a chaft Converfation coupled with Fear. By Converfation,
is underſtood the whole courfe and way of Living, all the exteriour Management
and Behaviour; and therefore a chaft Converfation requires not only the Purity and
Cleanneſs of the Heart, but fuch an outward, innocent and decent Carriage, as
may denote that inward Purity: It is what the Huſband may fee, becauſe he is to
be won by it, and gained over, and it is faid to be coupled with Fear; becauſe the
Fear of God is the fureft Prefervative of Chaſtity in the Heart; and the Fear of Man,
of Laws, of Infamy and Shame, and ill Report, the great Security of a chaft and
honourable Converfation without. There is no need of faying much in Commen-
dation of this great Virtue to Wives; they cannot chooſe but know, that, without
it, they are Wives no longer, the Band of Wedlock is immediately diffolved before
God; and before Man, as foon as the Hufband pleaſes to afk the Affiftance of the
Law: But this is not without the Breach of the moſt folemn and tremendous Vow
and Promiſe that can be thought on; the Guilt of fuch a Perjury, as cannot ever
be atoned for in this World, and of fuch horrible Injuftice, as can never be repaired,
either to Huſband, or to Children. In other Cafes, a Perjury may
In other Cafes, à Perjury may take away a Man's
good Name, or his Eſtate; but there may be fome amends made him for both of
them, by Repentance: His good Name may be recovered by a Recantation and
Denial of what was fworn to his Prejudice; and his Eftate may come again, by
force of Law, or voluntary Surrender. If the Life of a Father be taken away by
Perjury and Injuſtice, fome Compenfation may be after made to his unhappy Chil-
dren. But the Perjury and Injustice of an Adulterous Wife, are fuch Offences, as
can receive no Reparation or Amendment; even a Confeffion of their Crime to the
injured Party, may make him yet more miferable, and do him farther Injury; and,
as for Satisfaction, it is not in their Power. How ftrangely hard is it, for fuch to
make a good and true Repentance; how long and bitter fhould their Sorrow and
Compunction be before God, fince they have fo difabled themſelves, from doing any
thing befides? Sure, by their flexible and tender Conftitution, and theſe Confidera-
tions, no People in the World can Sin, with ſuch a fenfible and painful Self-con-
viction, as falfe Wives: And therefore, there is the lefs need of enlarging any far-
ther on this firſt Inſtance of Subjection to Huſbands: The Matter is ſo plain and
reaſonable, ſo juſt and honeft, that they, who will not be fubject in this Point, will
not (need not, I think) regard the being fo in any other.
But
264
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
But it is not refraining from adulterous Practice only, that is enough to denomi-
nate a Converſation chaft: The outward Carriage muſt be alſo honeſt and inoffenſive,
void of Sufpicion as well as Blame: And this it will be, if it be coupled with Fear, i. e.
tender Regard of Reputation and good Fame, as well as Fear of offending the Huf-
band: They must provide Things honeft, not only in the fight of the Lord, but in the
fight of Men. The Scriptures do not only call on People to fecure their Hearts to
God, but are exceeding careful to urge them to ſet forth a good Example to all the
World of Standers by They are by their good Works to glorify their Father, who
is in Heaven; they must not only be acceptable to God, but approved of Men. I will
praise the Lord with my whole Heart, fecretly among the Faithful, and in the midst of
the Congregation, faith the Pfalmift. So St. Paul exhorts the Theffalonians and Phi-
lippians to feveral Chriſtian Duties, and good Works, that the Name of the Lord Je-
fus might be glorified in them. And fo St. Peter would have the Chriftians have
their Converfation honeft among the Gentiles, that they might, by their good Works, which
they should behold, glorify God in the Day of Vifitation. So in other Places, We are
to adorn the Doctrine of God our Saviour in all Things; to have our Converfation wor-
thy of the Gospel; and to walk worthy of the Vocation wherewith we are called, and as
becometh Saints; to give no offence in any thing, that the Miniflry, i. e. the Gofpel Dif
penſation, be not blamed. Let as many Servants as are under the Yoke, count their
own Mafters worthy of all Honour; that the Name of God, and his Doctrine be not
blafphemed: And more nearly to the purpoſe of the Text, Tit. ii. 5. Let Women be dif
creet, chaft, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own Hufbands, that the word of God
be not blafphemed. And again, I will that younger Women marry, and keep the Houfe,
give no occafion to the Adverſary, i. e. to any Enemies of the Chriftian Religion,
to speak reproachfully; that is, to reproach the Holy Religion; as though, after all
its good Leffons, in all refpects, Men lived no better than they did before, the Ser-
vants were no better Servants, nor the Women better Wives, than they were before
they were converted, which were much to the Difgrace of Chriftianity. So that it
it not, ruly, enough for a Chriftian to be indeed virtuous and good, if he do not alfo
appear fo; becauſe a good Example is of great ufe, not only to filence the Re-
proaches, Obloquies, and Blafphemies, of evil Speakings, of fooliſh, ignorant or ma-
licious People, who, for appearing viſible Miſcarriages in Management, are ready to
charge Religion as a uſeleſs infignificant thing, but for the good Effect and Influence
it has upon all that take Notice of it; for as a bad Example turns to the Difcredit
and Reproach of the Profeffion, fo does a good one to its Honour and Advantage,
and gains infenfibly upon the moſt obdurate Minds.
And that is (in the fecond Place) one of the Motives and Encouragements St. Peter
propounds to the Wives; to live in a holy, careful, and religious Subjection to their
Huſbands; that if any obey not the Word, they also may, without the Word, be won by
the Converfation of the Wives; whilst they behold their chaft Converfation coupled with
Fear. It is much the fame Advice with what St. Paul gives, i Cor. vii. that if an
Unbeliever, either Woman or Man, were married to a Believer, the Chriftian fhould
not think of parting upon that ſcore; but ſtay the rather, to win, by a kind, good-
natured Chriſtian Converſation, the unbelieving Party over to the Faith; How knoweft
thou, O Wife, whether thou shalt fave thy Huſband; or thou O Man, whether thou
ſhalt fave thy Wife? ver. 16. They both of them ſuppoſe, that a virtuous, ſober,
and religious Example, may be likely to prevail, when the Word of God it ſelf,
from the Mouth of a Preacher, is of no force or value: And great indeed is the
Power of a good Example, well managed, eſpecially where it is always preſent,
as, in the Cafe before us, is fuppofed; it is an Argument that is always operating
fome Way or other, a Man cannot help attending to it: He fees, for instance, his
Wife, by vertue of the Chriftian Doctrine, leading a ſober, chaſt, religious Life,
fetting
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
265
fetting the Fear of God continually before her Eyes, and practifing the Commands
of Chrift, not only abftaining from Adultery, and open Falfhood and Abomination,
which the Laws, and Vengeance of her injured Partner might feverely punish;
but alſo from all Appearance of Evil, out of the Reach of all Sufpicion, guided in
all her Words and Actions by the Rules of a ſtrict and ſevere Virtue; fo careful
of fulfilling his Defires, and fatisfying to her Duty in all Particulars, and living in
fuch a handſome free Subjection to his Will, that 'tis impoffible he ſhould not have
fome liking to the Religion and good Principles that influence her to fuch Obedi-
ence and fuch Virtue: He fees the Power of Chriſtianity in ſuch defirable Effects,
that he will certainly conclude, it is a uſeful and moft holy Difpenfation, a Reli-
gion honourable for God, and ſerviceable to Mankind.
very
And there is nothing fooner likely to convert a Man to a Religion, than feeing
it fit to be a Religion, by its Principles, and finding thofe Principles opera-
tive and effectual to the producing what it aims at.
Such an Example will perpe-
tually reproach and diſturb him, and give him no Peace, till he comply with it; it
is a powerful Method in the Hands and Management of a prudent Woman, and
will prevail fooner than all the fame Reaſons of Religion together, ranged into Or-
der, with the Noife of Oppofition and Difpute.
And if a fober, chaft, religious Converfation, coupled with Fear, i. e. with a be-
coming Carefulneſs of not offending, and a familiar, eafy, free Submiffion, be the
moſt likely Method of converting an unbelieving Husband to the Faith of Chrift;
there is a great deal of Probability, that the fame wife and good Courfes will alfo ob-
tain, to the winning over Husbands, who are already Chriftians, from many idle or
finful Practices, and curing them of many fooliſh and perverſe Humours; which
alfo be a Motive and Encouragement to fuch a Subjection as the Apoſtle pre-
may
fcribes, although the Women have not unbelieving Husbands, i. e. fuch as are not
Chriſtians in Profeffion. Unleſs a Man be brutalized to a great degree; and in a
manner forfaken of God, and left entirely to himſelf, the meek and quiet, chaft and
fober Converſation of his Wife will win and gain upon him. Few Men but have
their times of thinking and confidering; and when they ſhall remember and reflect
upon the Carriage and Converſation of their Wives, and find, that, inftead of fal-
fifying their Vows of Faith and Chaſtity, they have moft carefully and religiouſly
obſerved them; 'not made them fuch Requitals as their Perjury and Falfhood, ac-
cording to the Maxims of the World, required and called for, and would juſtify;
but have been wary to a Scruple, managed themſelves ſo nicely, virtuouſly and well,
that they have given them neither fecret Jealouſly within, nor Shame and Infamy
abroad, and born their fenfible and wounding Injuries, to the Eye of the World, as
though they had been treated honeftly and kindly: A Man muſt be of a horribly hard,
inflexible Ill-nature, whom fuch Reflection will not foften into Love and Pity; the
Remembrance of fuch Kindneſs, and good Qualities, and fuch a Converſation, is as
likely to effect a Cure, and to reduce a wandring Huſband, as any thing befides:
He will fee and admire the Power of Virtue and Religion, and the huge Difference
betwixt the Choice his virtuous and deliberate Love made, and that which his im-
petuous finful Paffion fince has thrown him on How frugal, ferviceable, and cre-
ditable the one has been, and how extravagant, expenfive, miſchievous and ſhameful
the other: How deep a Debtor the Allurements of one have made him to God's
Juſtice, and to what Deſpair and Mifery they have reduced him, whilſt the Prayers,
and Tears, and Interceffion of the other may have preſerved him for Repentance
and Forgiveneſs. This may not only fill him with good Idea's of Religion, but
prove a Motive to his Converfion; it may turn his Heart, and bring him to the
Ways of Goodneſs; he may fee how reaſonable it is, that he fhould be as faithful
2 A a
to
266
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
to his Vows, and true to his Engagements, for the future, as ſhe has been; and, in
a generous and religious Gratitude, may fet about a Reformation, and redeem his
paſt Miſcarriages by After-conftancy and Kindneſs.
It is not indeed certain, that thefe, or any other Methods, will reclaim a vicious
and a faithleſs Hufband; but it is certain, that theſe are the moſt likely to do it,
and beſt fitted for it; but at leaſt that every Woman is obliged to take theſe Courſes,
whether they prove effectual or no: It is that which they both firſt, and laſt, and
all the while, muſt practiſe, and with which no evil, falfe, injurious Ufage can dif-
pence: There must be no Requital in thefe finful Inftances, one's Sin will never
make excuſe for another's; and 'twere a fad Revenge that would fall, at laft, upon
their own Souls. They muft ftill perfift in the Performance of their Duties towards
God and Man; if their chaft and religious Converfation prevail, they have gained
their Point, and proved the Inſtruments of the greateſt good in the World, to thoſe
they love the beſt, and to whom they owe it moſt: And if they prevail not, they
have the Satisfaction of knowing they have done their Duty all the while; and ta-
ken the Courſes that were likelieft to effect what they defired and wanted; they are
excufable both to God and Man, and fhall not fail of their Reward. Whereas, by
a light and idle, wanton and fufpicious Carriage, they do not only give offence to
fober, virtuous People, and great Encouragement to vicious impudent Attempters;
but do Religion great Miſchief, weaken it much in the Minds of their ill-diſpoſed
Partners, who ſee it has not any of its boafted Power and Efficacy, and ftrangely
alienates their Affections from them, and hardens them in their unlawful Practices:
For the moſt deſperately vicious and ungodly Huſbands in the World would have
their Wives even fcrupuloufly virtuous, and religious, and make the Want of thoſe
good Qualities and Graces, Pretences for their holding out themſelves againſt them;
and therefore Wives are inexcufable that will not try fo to reclaim them, efpecial-
ly when 'tis their Duty fo to do, let the Event be what it will. This is the firſt,
and greateſt Inſtance of that Subjection which every Wife muft live in to her Huf
band; and we fee that it is not without its Encouragement, even in this Life, name-
ly, the Likelihood of reclaiming him to Faithfulneſs and Conftancy, which bring
their Reward with them.
DISCOURSE VIII.
I PETER III. VERSES 3, 4.
Whofe adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the
Hair, and of wearing of Gold, or of putting on of Apparel:
But let it be the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which is not
corruptible, even the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, which
is in the fight of God of great Price.
S
T. Peter, defigning to make all Women as good Wives, and good Chriftians,
as they ought to be, lays down this general Rule, in the firft Place, that
they must be in Subjection to their own Hufbands: The Reaſonableneſs and
Neceffity of which, I have tried to fhew, ft. From the vifible Defign of
Nature, which hath denied to them, and given to Men, the Strength and Abilities
of
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
267
of Body and Mind, which are abfolutely requifite to carry on the neceffary Bufi-
nefs of the World. 2dly, From the Ufages and Cuftoms of the World, at all Times,
which have rather been to their Prejudice than Advantage. And, 3dly, From the
many Commands of God to the contrary, in holy Scriptures. And then he de-
fcends to particular Injunctions, in order to the fame good End, of rendring them
acceptable to God, and to their Huſbands: One, and a very great one, was, to have
their Converfation chaft, and coupled with Fear; i.e. not only pure and clean Hearts,
but a diſcreet Reſervednefs, and modeft Carriage outwardly; a careful nice Regard
to Fame and good Report; fuch a fober, virtuous and prudent Management, as will
denote the Fear of God within, and that the Mind is governed by good Principles,
and influenced by the Laws of Chriftianity; fo that they, who behold this chaft and
good Converfation, fhall glorify God; and the Hufband, if there be need, fhall be
won and gained upon by it, to the Converfion of his Soul, the Reformation of his
Manners, and Increaſe of Virtue. He is now proceeding to lay down other Rules
and Inſtructions; ſuch as will very much forward his Deſign of making the Wo-
men good Wives, and good Chriftians. First, Negatively, by fhewing them, that
the Ways of the World were not fuch as he would advife, or thought fit either to
commend them to God, or their Husbands: Whofe adorning, let it not be that out-
ward adorning of plaiting the Hair, and of wearing of Gold, or of putting on of Ap-
parel. But, Secondly, Affirmatively, he fhews them what it is he would advife, and
why: But let it be the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which is not corruptible,
even the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, which is in the fight of God of great
Price. I am, first, to fpeak to his Advice, which is negative, relating to the out-
ward adorning of the Body: And it is very near the fame with what St. Paul deli-
vers, 1 Tim. ii. Verfes 9, 10. In like manner alſo, that Women adorn themſelves in mo-
deft Apparel, with Shamefacedness and Sobriety; not with broidered Hair, or Gold, or
Pearls, or coftly Array; but (which becometh Women profeffing Godliness) with good
Works. St. Chryfoftom underſtands theſe Words, as if St. Paul were directing the
Women how to appear in Publick, when they came to Church, and not to be gi
ving any Rules of habiting themſelves in general; and therefore he inlarges on them
in this manner: Do you (faith he) come to pray to God, cloathed in Gold and with
Embroideries? Are you not rather come to dance, or to make up the Number at a
Wedding, or to fee fome fine Sight? There your Gold, there your Embroideries, there
your plaited Hair, and there your coftly Apparel, may be feaſonable: But here, at
Church there is no need or use of any fuch Things: You are come hither to intreat and fup-
plicate for Pardon of your Sins, and intercede for your Offences; to address to God, and
render him propitious to you, and do you then adorn your felf? Are these the Tokens,
this the Habit of a Supplicant? How can you figh, or weep, or pray with Fervency,
whilft thus arrayed? It will but look like Acting and Hypocrify; for fuch Attire and
Sorrow fuit but ill together. With a great deal more to the like Purpoſe, fuited ve-
ry well to the Cuſtoms of his own Times, and, it may be, to the Lent-feafon in
particular. But fince the Ufages of Chriftian Countries have long while been other-
wife, and that putting on the beſt Apparel was defigned to do fome Honour to the
Lord's-Day, and that it might be obſerved with all the external Tokens of Reſpect,
as well as with the internal Honour and Eſteem, and Worſhip of the Mind; it is
not only as lawful to be cloathed with the moſt ornamental Attire on this, as on any
other Day; but it would be an idle, weak Perverfenefs to change or oppofe the Cuf-
tom. And whatever St. Paul's Advice might refer to, there is no Reaſon to think
St. Peter, in the Words of the Text, had any eye to the Women's habiting them-
felves particularly on Sundays, or at the Publick Service of God, otherwiſe than on
other Days in other Places.
*
But
268
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
But becauſe theſe two are the only remarkable Paffages in the New Teftament,
that fay any thing concerning the Habit of Chriſtian Women; and upon which
they, who amongſt us affect a notorious Plainnefs and Simplicity of Apparel, ground
and approve their Practice, and may be tempted to condemn the reft of the World
of Pride and finful Vanity, and of living in Contradiction to the Advice of St. Paul
and St. Peter in the Text; it may not be amifs to join them together, in confidering
this Matter: And to fhew, First, what is not the Meaning of them: And, Secondly,
what is.
3.
First, What is not to be underſtood by thefe Words: And that is, that neither
St. Peter, nor St. Paul, are to be underſtood in the grofs and literal Senfe, as utterly
forbidding the Women to wear any Gold about them, either in Ear-rings, or about
their Cloaths; either in Lace, or interwoven or embroidered; and all plaiting of Hair;
all Pearls and Jewels, Necklaces, or Bracelets; and all forts of Cloaths, either Linen,
Silk, or Woollen, that come to a great deal of Money, and are costly: They are not
to be underſtood in the ftrict and literal Senfe, for thefe Reafons: it. The Nature
of the Thing requires it not: Nor, 2dly, the Way and Manner. of Expreffion: Nor,
3dly, the End and Defign of the Apoſtles: And yet, the Patrons of this great Sim-
plicity of Habit, whilst they ground their Practice and Opinion of its Neceffity upon
theſe fingle Paffages, taken in the literal Senfe, will not be able to excuſe them-
felves from contradicting the Apoftles, if either the Linen, Silk, or Woollen, which
they wear, coſt confiderably; for they are as much forbidden coftly Apparel, as Gold;
and Pearls, and broidering of the Hair, by theſe Apoſtles: And fine Linen and fine
Woollen are equally, coftly, with relation to, and in compariſon of, coarſe Linen and
coarſe Woollen, as Gold and Pearls are, with relation to fine Linen and fine Woollen,
in their feveral degrees:
Not that theſe People are blameable, in any wiſe, for this their Plainneſs of At-
tire, (for Men and Women are entirely at their Liberty to habit themſelves as
plainly as they pleaſe) but that they ought not to ground the Neceffity of doing ſo
upon theſe Texts; and much leſs ought they to accuſe and condemn of Pride, and
finful Vanity, fuch as go, to appearance, in more gay and coftly Cloathing: If they
avoid theſe two Offences, the Neceffity of going fo plain themſelves arifing from
the Scriptures, and the condemning of others who do not ſo attire themſelves, they
may do as they ſee fit in this Matter: And though the miſtaking theſe Scriptures
will, of itſelf, do them no harm, yet the cenſuring other People will; and that does
fo eafily follow from miſtaking the Scriptures, that it were better they would through-
ly confider them; and then they would find, that neither they themſelves do, nor
elfe can,
conform in Practice to the literal Senfe of the Words of St. Peter and
any
St. Paul.
But fince Ì am not fpeaking to them, but to fuch as underſtand them better;
and yet (I hope) are full as good Wives, and much truer Chriftians: I will now
go on to fhew, that theſe Advices and Inſtructions are not to be literally underſtood.
And, Firſt, the Nature of the thing requires it not; no Body can difcern any
greater Danger and Malignance in Gold and coftly Apparel, than in any other Me-
tal, other Stones, or coarfer Garments. Whether it be the Wiſdom, or Folly, or
the Fancy of People, that has fet a greater Value on theſe things than on others,
is no matter; there is certainly no greater Evil in one than another; they are
all, in their own Natures, alike innocent: And though they prove fometimes
the Occafions of great Miſchiefs, yet they are never properly the Causes of them;
but the Paffions and Defires of People towards them, who, to compaſs them, will
take Courſes which must confequently produce mischievous Effects. They are, in
this Cafe, not unlike to good Countries that border on the Kingdoms of two mighty
Princes,
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
259
!
Princes, who, finding their Convenience, fall to Wars about them, although the
Countries gave no Provocation or Encouragement to either. If the Weight, or
Luftre, or their Rarity, give theſe things any extraordinary Excellence above others,
the Delight and Pleaſure People take therein is but reaſonable; and whatever Evils
follow thence, are by no Means chargeable upon thoſe inanimate things themſelves,
but on the Men that cauſe them: And theſe things naturally are no worſe than
Light and Luftre in the Sun, Shape and Comelineſs in a Tree, or Beauty, Fragrance,
and Variety of Form and Colour, in the Flowers and Herbs; they are all of them
God's Creatures, and confequently good.
But fuppofing they acquire their Value and Efteem from the Opinion of the
World, and Peoples Fancies, and that this be ill-grounded, and run out into a blame-
able Excefs; yet it is not reaſonable to think that they are all of them abfolutely
prohibited, becauſe Men entertain falſe Notions of, and are deceived in them: For,
firft, Men have as much true Reaſon to value thefe, as any other material things
whatever: If we can judge of Beauty, or of Uſefulneſs, they are as ufeful and as
beautiful, as any other Parts of God's Creation. But whatever they are in them-
ſelves, and however Men may be miſtaken in their Judgments of them; yet as the
World was formerly, is now, and always will be ordered, it is abfolutely neceffary
that ſome things fhould be accounted of greater Excellence and Value than others:
There could be otherwiſe no living in the World; no Trade or Commerce could be
entertained, without fuch Change and Bargain. And if the Wiſdom of all the
World, in all Ages, has centred in this, that fuch and fuch things ſhould be ac-
counted beft, and valued higheft, it is a great Prefumption that they are truly the
moft excellent and valuable things of the Creation; but it is a downright Demon-
ſtration, that it is neceffary to account them fo: And that ſuch Opinion is well
enough grounded, becauſe it is abſolutely neceffary that fomething ſhould be reckon-
ed beft, and better than another; and nothing has, at any time, prevailed above
theſe things, in civilized Countries.
And though it ſhould be objected, That the Indians parted with their Gold and
Pearls, for Glafs and Trifles, to their firſt Diſcoverers; yet it would not from thence
follow, that what the common Efteem of Mankind makes valuable, is not truly fo:
For though Glaſs and Gold are of equal Value to a Man that neither uſes, nor knows
how to make uſe of either, yet to one that does both, they are very unequal; And
when the Indians knew how much their Traders valued Gold, and what a deal of
Glaſs, and other gaudy Things were purchaſable by a little Gold, they grew wiſer,
and learned the Excellency of it; though, at the fame time, we muft own, that if
all the World ſhould fet a Stamp of Value upon Glaſs, or any Thing befides, it
muſt be as valuable as Gold itſelf: Which fhews, that theſe Things are not here.
forbidden by St. Peter or St. Paul, either becauſe they are worthleſs in their own
Nature, or becauſe we have ſet too great a Value on them: They are as good and
innocent as any other Things: and therefore there is nothing in the Nature of them,
from whence we may conclude they are abfolutely prohibited.
Nor, Secondly, from the Way and Manner of Expreffion here uſed, although it
ſeem to be abſolutely negative; for ſo it is in a World of Places in the Scriptures:
So Matth. vi. 19. Lay not up for your felves Treafures upon the Earth, where Math
and Ruft doth corrupt, and where Thieves break through and fleal; but lay up for your
felves Treafures in Heaven. Here, though the Expreffion be very pofitive, or abfo-
lutely negative; yet the Meaning of theſe Words is not abfolutely to prohibit People
the laying up Treafures here on Earth, for the Neceffities and Duties of Life do
make it unavoidable: There can be no Provifion made for Families and Children,
without fuch treaſuring; there can be no fuch Thing as Stock, or Subſtance; no
2 B b
fuch
270
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
fuch Thing as Trade and Commerce, unleſs fome People do it to be ready at an
Exigence: And unleſs we can imagine Chrift intended to forbid the Merchandize
and Traffick of the World, or the Proviſions for Families and Relations, we muſt
not think he abſolutely prohibited the laying up Treaſures here on Earth, although
the Injunction be expreffed in very abfolute and pofitive Terms. But the Meaning
is, that Chriſtians fhould be more intent upon the fecuring everlafting Happineſs to
themſelves, than the fhort and perishable Riches of this World: That they fhould
not lay out fo much Time and Care, and Pains in gathering Treaſures here, that
are fubject to ſo many Changes, and of which they can at beft be Maſters but a ve-
ry little time, to the Neglect of Heavenly Things; in whofe Poffeffion there is not
only everlaſting Happineſs, but in whofe Lofs there is eternal Mifery: There is no,
manner of Compariſon betwixt theſe two Treafures; and therefore lay not up the
one, until you have fecured the other. And fo St. Matth. ix. 13. I will have Mercy,
and not Sacrifice. Which, being ſpoken by God under the Jewish Difpenfation, can-
not be underſtood of God's abfolutely refufing and difliking Sacrifices, which he
himſelf ſo frequently commanded, in the Law of Mofes, to be offered conftantly and
folemnly before, and to him: But the Meaning is, I will have Mercy rather than
Sacrifice, if they ſhould come in Competition; I will not be defrauded of one, un-
der Pretence of the other; I will have them both in their proper Seafons:: But
ſhould there be an Occafion of Preference, the fhewing Mercy is more agreeable to
Me than Sacrifice; I like the fulfilling of that Command of mine, which does an
Act of Love and Kindneſs to another, better than fulfilling that Command which
only fhews an Inftance of Obedience to Me, and has no other Good belonging to
it. And fo it is in Hofea vi. 6. from whence it is taken; I defired Mercy, not Sacri-
fice; and the Knowledge of God, more than Burnt-offerings; where not, in the firſt
Place, is explained by more in the fecond. And fo our Saviour underſtands it in the
Application, for I came not to call the Righteous, but Sinners to Repentance. They
had objected to him, his eating and converfing with Publicans and Sinners; and he
tells them, that his chief Defign was to convert all fuch from the Evil of their
Ways; that his Errand was rather to them than others; they wanted his Affiſtance
moſt, and therefore they ſhould have it: Not but that he came to call thoſe he
names Righteous, as well as thoſe whom they called Sinners; for there were no fuch
People as Righteous, for all Men wanted him, and all Men muſt come to him by
Repentance; but the more the Sins, the more the Sinners want him: So Matth. x.
28. Fear not them which kill the Body, but are not able to kill the Soul. It is impof-
fible not to fear ſuch as can kill the Body; but we muſt not fear the one in Com-
pariſon with the other, who can make us miſerable for ever. So Luke xii. 29. Seek
ye not what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; which is impoffible to be underſtood
pofitively, by at leaſt three Quarters of the World, who muſt neither eat nor drink
at all, unleſs they feek it, and feek it in earneſt too, with Toil and great Pains:
But the Meaning is, they muſt not ſeek the Things of this Life with more Anxiety
than they are worth, but rather ſeek the Kingdom of God. So 2 Cor. xii. 14. St.
Paul fays, The Children ought not to lay up for the Parents, but the Parents for the
Children; which must not be underſtood generally, and without Referve: For in
many Cafes Children are unquestionably obliged to lay up for the Parents; where
they are quite difabled by Age, or Feebleness, or other Caufe, from taking care of
themſelves. The Meaning is, it is more ufual and more natural for Parents to pro-
vide for Children, than the contrary; and not at all to forbid it, where it is necef-
fary, decent, or convenient. So Prov. xx. 13. and xxiii. 4. Love not Sleep; Labour
not to be rich; i. e. do nothing of that kind exceffively; do all Things moderately :
Shew your
ſelf a diligent and careful Man; but be not a Slave to Eafe and Idleneſs,
nor
¡
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
271
nor yet to Labour and extream Pains for the periſhing Goods of this World. And
fo, laſtly, 1 John ii. 15. Love not the World, neither the Things that are in the World:
This is a very abfolute Injunction in Words, but altogether impoffible to be practiſed
in the literal and firſt Senſe of them; for Men cannot help loving themfelves, and
ſeveral other Things that are in the World: But the Meaning is, that Men muſt not
love any Thing in this World comparatively with God; i. e. fo as not to part with
it, if he commands us; fo as not to prefer our Obedience, and the Duty we owe to
him, before all other worldly Things befides, though never fo uſeful and advanta-
geous, never ſo delightful to us. So that from all theſe Paſſages, which I have ta-
ken occafion to explain, and from many others I omit, it appears, that though a
Prohibition or Command may be expreffed in general, and very pofitive Terms, yet
it is not always fo to be underſtood, without Exception and Referve: There is a
Senſe of Reaſon and Equity to be inquired after, which the Circumſtances of Time,
and Place, and Perfon, muft determine.
And if there be any one general Rule to know, when this negative Particle not
is to be univerfally exclufive of all Degrees whatever, belonging to the Thing pro-
hibited, it may perchance be this, where-ever the Things prohibited are naturally
and in themſelves unlawful. So Rom. xiii. 13. Not in Rioting and Drunkenness, not
in Chambering and Wantonness, not in Strife and Envyings. Here the Things are in
themſelves unlawful and abominable, and therefore there is no Exception to be made;
no Degree of them is lawful, or to be admitted; they are all, and every of them,
ſtark naught, and therefore certainly prohibited in general, and without Reſerve.
But where the Matter of the Prohibition is in its own Nature innocent, and perfect-
ly indifferent, and becomes prohibited becauſe of fome Abuſe of it; there, though
the Words of the Prohibition be general, yet the Thing can be no farther underſtood
to be prohibited than it is abuſed, or as far as may guard it from Abufe. So though
St. Peter, and St. Paul, prohibited Women plaited and broidered Hair, and Gold
and Pearls, and coftly Array; yet are they not neceffarily to be underſtood to pro-
hibit them the Uſe and Ornament of any of thoſe Things in general, though the
Injunction be expreffed in very poſitive Terms; becauſe there is nothing, in their
Natures, evil; but what is evil, is by Abuſe, and accidentally becomes fo; and becauſe
we have ſeen a great many Places of Scriptures expreffed as generally and abfolute-
ly as theſe, and yet to bear Exceptions and Reſerves, and a more limited Senſe.
Nor, Thirdly, is it abfolutely neceffary that all theſe Things ſhould abſolutely be
forbidden, from the Deſign and Purpoſe of theſe two Saints and Apoftles, which
feems principally the recommending fuch Things to the Women, as would make
them good Wives and good Chriftians, Good Works, and fuch as became People pro-
feffing Chriſtianity (as we ſhall ſee in due Time) and fecondarily fuch decent, grave,
external Habit, as would anſwer and become thoſe good Works; but fuch eſpeci-
ally as would give no Scandal and Offence, nor miniſter Temptations to another.
Now fuch Deſign is no way obftructed by a moderate and well-regulated Ufe of all
of theſe Ornaments; and therefore there is neither Need nor Reafon to con-
clude that all, nor any of theſe Particulars here mentioned, are univerfally abſolutely
forbidden to Women, either from the Nature of the Things themfelves, or from the
Way and Manner of Expreffion; or laftly, from the End propoſed both by St. Peter
and St. Paul: All theſe are fecured, although the Words be taken in a laxer and
more moderate Senſe.
or any
But though it may be reaſonable enough to think theſe Words of both Apoſtles
(which I join together, becauſe they are fo like to, and explain, one another) are
not to be underſtood literally and ſtrictly; yet ſomething is undoubtedly forbidden
thereby; and what that is, it may be fit to know; which was the fecond Thing I
intended
}
272
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
intended to confider; after having fhewn what ſhould not be underſtood by thefe
negative Inſtructions concerning outward Ornaments and Habits.
And, first, we may reaſonably conclude, that St. Peter and St. Paul would be
underſtood to forbid all fuch Gaiety and Coftlineſs of Attire, as certainly miniſter to
Pride, and fofter Vanity. There is no Body doubts but every thing finful, and tend-
ing to God's Dishonour, is here prohibited; and if either Newneſs, Rarity, and Coft-
linefs of Habit, occafion Pride and Vanity, it is certainly here condemned. The
Truth of it is, it feems difficult to conceive what kind of Pride it is, that can be
raiſed in Peoples Minds on theſe Accounts; how they can come to think more high-
ly of themſelves than others, and than they ought to do, becauſe they have other
Cloaths, and are otherwife dreft than they are. But whatever it is, it is evident,
that the Effect, and not the Cauſe, is here prohibited, fince the Cauſe is every thing
by which the Fancy is blown up: And it is not only Gold and Pearls, and coftly
Apparel, that occafion this difordered Fancy, and this fooliſh Vanity of Heart, but
any thing that People put a Value and Eſteem upon, and think it raiſes them above
their Neighbours: For it is not the Richneſs of a thing that is always the Ground
of its Eſteem: If a thing of leffer Price be more faſhionable, it is more defired,
and more valued by the Wearer; and if looſe and flowing Hair were modiſh, it would
then occafion more Pride and Vanity, than the plaiting or the broidering it would
do. This is fo well known to all, that I need not infift upon it; that the things
that coſt moſt, do not pleaſe beſt, if they be not alſo faſhionable; and if they do
not pleaſe, and are not faſhionable, they are not fo apt to create that fecret vain
Complacence in the Mind, which ariſes from the Conceit, that what they wear be-
comes them beſt, and fets them, in a Rank above their Neighbour. So that it is
manifeſt this kind of Pride, whatever it is, is not grounded upon Coftlineſs or Worth,
but upon Decency and Modiſhneſs; ſo that People would be proud of Toys and
Tinfel, Straws and Ruſhes, if the Court and City brought them into fashion, and
would uſe them publickly. And fince it is Pride and Haughtineſs, and vain Con-
ceits of Mind, which the Scriptures intend to forbid and check, it is manifeft that
Gold and Pearls, and coftly Array, and plaited Hair, are not the Things particular-
ly ſpoken against, any farther than they prove the Occafions of that Pride and Va-
nity. And fince other meaner things, if faſhionable and in ufe, occafion them as
commonly and certainly as the more coftly Things; and that fomething or other
muſt be uſed and faſhionable, it follows very near demonftrably, that Pride and
Vanity are the Effects, and things that are prohibited; and neither Gold, nor Pearls,
nor broidered Hair, nor coftly Attire.
And what is faid for the Matter and Subſtance of Attire, is alſo as true for the
Manner or Faſhion of it, that no one particular Mode either is, or can poffibly be
forbidden or preſcribed, as that which neceffarily and unavoidably either occafions
or prevents this Pride and Vanity; becauſe it is not this or that particular Faſhion or
Dreſs that only occafions Pride or Vanity, for another Dreſs does the ſame thing
when it is become the Faſhion: And it is a weak Thing to imagine, that ſuch a
Faſhion is the proudest Fashion that ever was, for People are alike proud in all Faſhi-
ons: And few or none were ever proud of their Attire and Drefs, if at the fame.
Time they thought it out of Faſhion, or did not wear it in fpite and oppofition to
the Faſhion: And therefore it is reaſonable enough to conclude, that what Pride
ariſes on the account of Dreffing, is owing chiefly to the Opinion People have, that
what they wear is modiſh and becoming; and therefore all Faſhions are very near
alike hazardous, one as the other, and as apt to raiſe the Pride and Vanity of weak
and trifling Spirits. If Faſhion, then, be the moſt obvious and apparent Ground of
Vanity, and the Foundation of this fooliſh Pride, it muſt certainly be reaſonable,
if
Duty of Wives to Husbands:
273
if not abfolutely neceffary, to avoid Conformity and Compliance with the Faſhion.
So one would think indeed at firft; but when you come to confider it, it is other-
wife, and would fignify nothing at all; for what is abfolutely neceffary to fome;
upon this Account, is as neceffary to all: For if one must not be proud and vain,
neither muſt another be fo; and if one muft avoid the common and the ordinary oc-
cafion, fo muſt another, and fo muft all. But now it is impoffible for all to avoid
the Faſhion; for if all avoid it, how could any thing be the Faſhion? And that
which all, or moſt agree in, and conſent to, will be neceffarily the Faſhion; ſo
fo
that all People's avoiding the Faſhion, would be only fetting up another Faſhion, if
they all agreed or fell into one and the fame; or leaving every one to their own
Devices and Imaginations; which would occafion as much (and it is probable a
great deal more of) Pride, than their all agreeing in one. Upon the whole Matter,
the Confent in general of moft Wearers makes a Drefs or Habit faſhionable; and
when that has once prevailed, it unavoidably becomes the Standard and Meaſure of
Decency: And when we think a Faſhion aukward or unbecoming, it is becauſe we
have not long enough been uſed to it, or do not find it generally approved, or be-
cauſe it has long been laid aſide: But to think it finful to follow a Faſhion becauſe
new, and conform to Cuſtom in theſe Cafes, is, to fet up our own Imaginations
againſt the whole World's, not only of our own Time, but of all foregoing Gene-
rations, whofe Modes and Garbs have all along been very different: And though
ſome appear more antick and extravagant than others, yet that proceeds rather from
a Fondness for our own Conceits and Cuſtoms, and a liking to what we have been
uſed to, in our own Nations and Times, than from any true Grounds in Nature or
in Reaſon. But to conclude that one Faſhion is more proud and finful than another,
argues fome fort of Weakneſs of Judgment, or Want of Confideration. Not that
ſome ſort of Faſhions do not miniſter more to Wantonnefs and Immodefty than
others, and take up much more time, and hinder People from doing the Good they
would otherwiſe do (which I fhall afterwards confider) but that one Faſhion is
prouder than another, is not at all evident, though it is commonly thought fo.
It is not for us to appear as Advocates for any of theſe Matters; but when things
are generally decried, without any Reaſon or good Foundation, even good and honeſt
People come to be ſcandalized at they know not what, nor why: And Scruples are
begotten in ſome weak Minds, which they cannot afterwards get eafily rid of; and
when ſome have miſtaken themſelves into a Compliance with the literal Senfe cf
theſe Injunctions, they fall (as I faid) into an uncharitable Cenforiouſneſs of ſuch
as are not like minded. Till therefore People can diſcover the Unreaſonableness,
or the Unlawfulneſs of complying with the Cuſtoms of the Times, which are not
in themſelves finful, or till they can diſcover a better Standard of Decency than the
general Conſent of People, I fee no reaſon to judge otherwiſe, than that the common
and accuſtomed Garb and Attire is innocent and fafe. It may, indeed, become the
occafion of Peoples Pride and Vanity, but fo may any thing befides; and therefore
when People find themſelves exalted by fuch Trifles, and cured by their removal,
they are obliged to leave, and change them preſently: For even the beſt Endow-
ments both of Body and Mind, are no fufficient Plea, or reaſonable Excufe, for an
extraordinary Conceit of our felves, or for Contempt of others; and much leſs any
vain and gay Attire, that is truly none of ours, but borrowed from the Earth and
Sea, and Birds and Beaſts, and little ugly Infects, and only ferve to cover and con-
ceal our Imperfections and Deformities.
And truly, Virtue and good Qualities muſt needs run very low, when People
feek for Honour and Eſteem from fuch poor Vanities as thefe; and fcorn, and in-
jure too, perhaps, their Neighbours, for the Want of them; of which, if they had
2 Cc
but
274
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
but little more, they would envy them; and, if a great deal, hate them downright
Not that every Act of Complacence in Apparel, or every Thought that ſuch and
fuch a Thing becomes them better than another, and liking it, on that account, is
therefore a Sin, or finful; but the Excefs of fuch Complacence, and the ſetting a
greater Eſteem upon themſelves, and a lefs on others than is due upon theſe fimple Ac-
counts, which elate the Hearts of foolish Creatures with idle Fancies, vain Imagina-
tions, and Conceits of Dignity and Honour, and withdraw them from more grave and
ferious Objects, on which they might and fhould be better employed. It appears,
therefore, from the whole, that the Apoſtles do not defign to forbid to Women al-
together the Ufe of Gold, or Pearls, or coftly Attire, the broidering or the plaiting
of the Hair; neither from the Nature of the Things themſelves, which are not evil,
but indifferent, and either innocent or evil as they are uſed; nor from the Manner
of Expreffion, though it look like negative and univerfal, fince a great many other
Paffages are full as abfolute and univerfal, that yet muſt needs be taken in a reſtrain-
ed and equitable Senſe: Nor, lastly, from their main Defign; which is to let the
Women know, what are the trueft Ornaments and Honours of their Sex, Good
Qualities, and Good Works; and that their firſt and principal Care fhould be, to ſe-
cure that main Point, which will recommend them both to God and Man, and
make them uſeful in their Generations; that whatever Value and Efteem the idle
and the inconfiderate Part of Mankind may have put upon Attire and Drefs, yet
that there is no true Worth in any fuch Appearances: That it is indeed become
neceſſary to do as is commonly done; but that the Commendation that arifes thence,
is not at all defirable, or any ways beneficial; and that, of all Things in the World,
they have the leaft Reaſon to be proud and vain on thefe Accounts, fince even the
Beauty, and the Comelineſs they aim at in theſe Dreſſes, (if they ſhould really at-
tain it) were no fuch mighty Prize; a fickly Creature of the Fancy, born and nou-
riſhed unaccountably, and loft by Humour, or a thouſand Accidents.
The first Thing, therefore, that is meant, is, that no one ſhould be proud of their
Apparel; and that whoever finds herfelf exalted to undue and unufual Conceits of
her own Worth, or inclined thereby to Scorn, and to defpife another, becauſe not
clad fo well or richly as herfelf, offends againſt the Apoftles Rules, and is obliged
to Repentance; and to make the Experiment, whether a meaner Garb, and other
Dreſs, will not abate her Haughtiness, and cloath her with Good-nature and Hu-
mility, and other fuch good Qualities and Graces, as become thoſe who profefs God-
linefs. What is farther underſtood to be prohibited the Women, in the Apoftles
Rules, and what moreover are the Things here recommended to them, in order to
their pleafing God, and thoſe they are obliged to pleaſe of Men, will require ſome
other Opportunity to fpeak to: In the mean time, let them remember, that the
Bufinefs of Apparel is not ſo inconfiderable, but that the Apoſtles both of Jews and
Gentiles, thought convenient to give their Advice and Rules concerning it, when
they were treating of the Duty of Wives to their Husbands; which is the Defign I
have now in hand, and ſhall profecute in the following Difcourfes.
DISCOURSE
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
275
DISCOURSE IX.
I PETER III. VERSES 3, 4.
Whofe adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the
Hair, and of wearing of Gold, or of putting on of Apparel : But
let it be the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which is not corrup-
tible, even the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, which is in
the Sight of God of great Price.
H
I
AVING fhewn already, both from the Nature of the Things themſelves,
and from the Way and Manner of Expreffion, and the Defign both of
St. Peter here, and of St. Paul in 1 Tim. ii. 9. that Women neither were,
nor well could be, abfolutely forbidden the Uſe and Ornament of all the
particular Things mentioned by them; but that they were left indifferent to People,
and to be regulated by them, as they fhould fee convenient, both as to the Matter
and Manner, to Subſtance and to Faſhion, by Prudence and Diſcretion, ſo as never
to become, by either Deſign or natural Neceffity, the Inftruments or Occafions of
Sin: I had only Time (in fpeaking to the Second Head; which was to fhew, what
was to be understood by theſe Rules of both Apoſtles concerning Ornament and Ha-
bit, I had only Time) to mention one Particular; and that was, that they were
undoubtedly forbidden the being Proud and Vain, and Self-conceited, and the de-
fpifing, and treating others injuriouſly upon the account of Cloaths, and Drefs. I
am now to proceed to other Particulars, which we may reaſonably prefume the Apo-
ftles intend to prohibit to Chriftian Women, and good Wives.
1
In the fecond Place, therefore, all fuch Attire as ferves to Loofenefs and Immodefty,
is here forbidden; and this, not only if it be defigned to ſerve fuch wicked Purpoſes,
but alſo if it have a natural, an eaſy, or an ufual Tendency that way. First, to be
ſure it is forbidden, if deſigned to fuch an evil Purpoſe; becauſe the Defign itſelf
is ſo abominable, the heating of the Fancies, and inflaming the Hearts of heedleſs
and impetuous Youth, and kindling and exciting thoſe impure Defires, that will at
laſt conſume both Soul and Body. To dress with this Defign, is, to be ſure, not
only blameable, but damnable, without Repentance; it is the worst they can do, and
all they can do, for nothing is wanting, on their Side, to compleat the Sin. And
as the Defign's taking effect does not at all depend on them, fo neither will its mif-
fing its effect excuſe them, or diminiſh ought of either Guilt or Puniſhment.
But what ſhall be determined of them, who do not dreſs with this abominable
Purpoſe, but only with Deſign of appearing Gracious and Lovely in the Sight of
People, and to gain Affection and Good-will? Why, the Rule in general may be
this; that the defigning any thing, in Mind and Wiſh, is more or less innocent, ac-
cording as the Thing defigned is more or leſs innocent in it felf, and would be, fhould
it take effect; fo that if to appear Gracious and Lovely, be in it felf good, or bad,
or indifferent, the defigning to appear fo (whether it take effect or no) will be
good, or bad, or indifferent, accordingly. And therefore whoever would know,
how far ſhe may innocently Dreſs with this Defign, muft afk her felf what ſhe in-
tends, what ſhe defires that Grace and Comelineſs for, and what ufe fhe deſigns to
make of Peoples Approbation, or their Admiration of her; and according as that
is better or worſe, fo will her Dreffing and Adorning of her felf be more or lefs
Innocent.
Some
·
276
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
1
Some of the Ancients (S. Cl. of Alex. l. 3. 11. Tertul. de Cult. Fem. 2. 4.) ſeem to
allow the Wives a greater Liberty in Dreffing, than to other fingle People; but they
fay, it ſhould be only where it is fairly probable, at leaſt, that the Affections of the
Huſbands cannot otherwiſe be eafily retained; but they do at the fame Time re-
proach the Folly and the Lightneſs of thofe Men, who confidered fuch Appearances
more than the true and only Ornaments, the Virtues and good Qualities of Women:
And they reſtrain the Wives appearing handſomer than ordinary to the Huſbands
only; which may indeed be done in the Defign, but not as to the Effects which
will have influence upon other People alfo. But though there may be fomething of
Reaſon in fatisfying fome Defires; yet it cannot be a Rule of any great Security or
Prudence; becauſe ſome Huſbands may be light, and wanton, and fantaſtical them-
felves, and their Fancies prove but weak and fimple Guides: And though they ſhould
be permitted to take a greater Liberty with refpect to their Huſbands, and the plea-
fing them; yet becauſe they live and converſe with other People, they are prohibi-
ted (as well as other Women) fuch Dreſs, as, though they ſhould deſign to hurt
or pleaſe no Body at all; yet may have, in it ſelf, a natural, eaſy, or an uſual
Tendency to Evil, and minifter Temptations to another.
not.
It is prefumed that all Men act upon fome Grounds, and that our Reaſon and other
Faculties are given on purpoſe to direct and govern us in all our Actions, and to con-
fider with them Caufes and Effects, Actions and Events, natural and neceffary, pro-
bable and accidental, fuch as are like to be, and fuch as may poffibly be; and from
theſe Abilities of confidering, judging and determining, arifes the Guilt and Con-
demnation of Precipitancy, Heedleffneſs, and Acting inconfiderately. And as a Man
is pitied reaſonably, that falls into Misfortunes which he could not poffibly foreſee,
nor poffibly prevent; but blamed and condemned, that fuffers what he neither need-
ed, nor ſhould have done: So is a Man or Woman excuſed, for what Events are ac-
cidental and unuſual from their Acts, but blameable and chargeable with fuch Events
as might be reaſonably expected; and were both natural and eafily confequential of
fuch their Actions, although they thought not on them, or at leaft defigned them
When Men take the proper, natural and ready Means to the attaining of an
End, and ſuch as could not probably miſcarry, and fuch as they muft needs have
taken, had they purpoſely defigned that End; it will be ſtill prefumed that they
intended it, whether they did or no. And fo it is in the Matter before us; although
a Garb and Faſhion ſhould not be at all defigned to ferve to any evil and immodeſt
Purpoſes; yet if it naturally did fo, if it were fuch as eafily might miniſter Temp-
tations to unwary forward Hearts, to heated and depraved Imaginations, and raiſe
unclean Ideas in the Minds of ill-difpofed People, it were undoubtedly unlawful:
Such Garb and Faſhion muſt unquestionably be forfaken: There, neither Multitude,
nor Quality, nor Cuſtom could Excuſe: There it would be, that we must not followi
a Multitude to do Evil: There, no Examples would avail to an Excufe: There, it
would be to no purpoſe to ſay, they defigned no Evil, for it is not enough not to
defign, but they muſt give no manner of juft Occafion of it; and though the Par-
ties take not this Occafion as a Thing that's offered them on purpoſe, yet if it may
be eaſily and naturally (according to the wicked Inclinations and Propenfities of
People) taken and laid hold on, it is to be prefumed and looked upon as given. It
is true indeed that he is in fault, and ſhall be puniſhed, that takes the bad Occa-
fion not defigned to be given; but it is alfo true, that ſhe is to be blamed and ſhall
be puniſhed, that miniſtred ſo proper and ſo eaſy a Temptation.
But if the Garb or Drefs be fuch as cannot eafily and naturally tempt, then let
the Event be what it will, the Party gave it not, and fo is innocent. The ſhort
of the Matter in this particular is this; to defign an evil Thing is Sin, although you
do
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
277
•
do not Effect it, becauſe you have done all you could; and therefore, to dreſs with
a Deſign of enfnaring weak and finful Hearts, and to ferve immodeft Purpoſes, is
moſt undoubtedly a Sin, whatever be the Effect: And to effect an evil End, may be
a Sin, although you do not defign it, becauſe you took the proper and the uſual
Courſes to effect it; and becauſe the Effect depends not on Defigns and Purpoſes,
but upon natural and proper Mediums; and becauſe
and becauſe you knew, or ought to know,
that that was very likely to be the Effect and Confequence of that your Action.
But, after all, it is not eafy to determine what kind of Garb and Drefs does na-
turally and eaſily, and ufually produce theſe bad Effects; for Modefty, and Shame
it ſelf, is, in many Cafes, fomething relative, and depends upon Ufages and Cuſtoms
of Places, and the Confent of fuch a People: And that, which is accounted Mo-
defty in fome Countries, is lighty regarded in another; and the Opinions of the
fame Nation alter by Time and Circumftances, fo that People may paſs too hafty
and unkind a Cenfure upon thefe Occafions, unless they give themſelves leave to
confider: And yet, for all that, the Parties moſt concerned are not left in fuch Un-
certainties, but that they may, if they will fet about it, guefs pretty tolerably, and
fafely to be fure, whereabouts the Danger lies, from whence the Occafion of Temp-
tation riſes; and are, according to their Knowledge, and the beſt of their Guefs,
obliged to remove the Occaſion, to ſtop thoſe fatal Inlets of Temptations, whatſo-
ever they be; or elſe they will moſt certainly offend againſt the Apoſtles Rules,
which do at leaft forbid fuch Garb and Drefs to Chriftian Women, as either natu-
rally or defignedly ferve to Immodefty and Loofeneſs in themſelves, or miniſter
Temptations to another.
Thirdly, All fuch Attire and Dreſs, as ſpends and takes up too much Time, may
reaſonably be prefumed to be forbidden, becauſe our Time is given to better Pur-
poſes; it is not, properly ſpeaking, our own; but fo much is to be expended on
Things abfolutely neceffary, and ſo much on Things profitable and convenient for
us, and none at all on Things hurtful.
The Confideration of the great Work that every one has to do, of the uncertain
Continuance of the Time we have to do it in, of the Diverfions and Impedi-
ments we daily meet with, from the neceffary Buſineſs, the Corruptions of our
Hearts, and the Temptations of this World, have wrought ſo powerfully and deep-
ly on the Hearts of many People in all Ages, that they have quite abandoned all the
World, fequeftred themſelves from all Company and Buſineſs, and given themſelves
entirely up to God, devoting themſelves to Prayers and Praiſes, and Repentance:
Now as many of theſe People are not over-haftily to be condemned, ſo neither are
they over haftily to be imitated; for it hath pleaſed God to make the Duties, and
the Buſineſs of Life, the Inſtances of our Obedience; and whilſt we are diſcharging
them, with Care and Honefty, we are truly ferving God, and fulfilling his Com-
mands. And when People fly from the Affairs of the World to Solitude and Con-
templation only, they only fhew that their Opinion is, that the Theory of Virtue is
equal to the Practice of it, which is certainly a Miſtake: And though there may
be more Pleaſure to one's felf in Speculation, than in Action; yet certainly the Ex-
ercife of Virtues is much more beneficial to the reft of Mankind, and better an-
fwers all the Purpoſes of Religion, which are, to honour God, and profit one ano-
ther.
The Ufe that I would make of this Confideration is, that the more thoughtful
and confidering People are, the mighty and momentous Work of their Salvation
will the more be laid to Heart; and the lefs Time they will be fure to fpend in
trifling and in needleſs Matters: And though, it may be, all the Art and Skill of Man
cannot lay down certain, general, or particular Rules, how much Time is abfolutely
2 D d
neceffary
378
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
neceffary for the diſcharging fuch a Duty, and how much may fafely and innocently
be beſtowed upon fuch and fuch Purpoſes, what is fufficient for Diverfion, and re-
laxing of the Mind, and when Leifure becomes criminal; though it be impoffible
to determine with Exactness in any of theſe Particulars for another, yet it is not fo
hard for any one, that is but tolerably careful, and inclinable, to do it in their own
Cafe; and yet they ſhould not uſe too great Exactnefs and Nicety in weighing
thefe Matters, fince there is no need, and Scruples may too eafily arife, which are
of great Trouble, and no Ufe. Let People confider that they have much to do, and
that is abfolutely neceffary to be done; and much, that is more confiderable than
this they are about; and that too little Time, expended on adorning and ſetting out
themſelves, is much more tolerable and fafe, than too much, and they will want
no great Advice in thefe Cafes, nor much offend by fuch a Negligence: They muſt
needs determine for themfelves in all theſe Matters; and they may do it ſafely on
the better Side, to be fure; fo that the Rule, in this Cafe, is both ſhort and eaſy.
It is unlawful certainly to beſtow that Time on dreffing and adorning one's felf,
that is due to God and Religion; that ſhould be ſpent in worſhipping and ſerving
him, and that is given on purpofe to us, to fecure our everlaſting Intereft with him;
or that which is owing to our Neighbours, our Relations, or our felves, in the ſe-
veral States of Life, and in the different Refpects we have to them all. So that
not only the Time that is taken from God, but from any one elſe we are obliged to
ferve and care for, is mifpent, and ill bestowed on thefe unprofitable Exercifes. And
though a Woman may be conftant in her Prayers, and Reading, or what other Spi-
ritual Exerciſes ſhe may be put upon; yet it is not enough, if the employ thoſe
Hours on tricking and adorning her felf, that are due to the Diſcharge of the Office
of a good Wife, or Parent, or the Miſtreſs of a Family. For theſe are all of them
Duties, and muſt be paid, and will not be excufed, whereas the other might be
better fpared: It is not only an Imprudence, but a faulty Neglect in any Woman,
to give that Time to Idleness and Vanity, and dreffing up her felf; which might,
and ought to be employed, in looking after the Concerns of her Hufband and Fa-
mily, her Children and her Servants; which is the End and Bufinefs of her Rela-
tion, as a Wife.
Fourthly, We may reaſonably prefume, that both St. Peter and St. Paul forbid
fuch Dreſs, as by its Coftlineſs prevents and hinders People from doing that Good
which they might otherwife do, by Charity, in its feveral Inftances: Not that what-
ever Money is expended on Things, that are only pleaſant and delightful, is ill fpent,
or ought to have been bestowed on Charitable Ufes: For that is an Opinion that
has neither Truth nor Reaſon in it; for many Things, that are neither abfolutely
neceffary, nor yet ſo ſtrictly convenient, but that one may well be without them, are
yet exceeding lawful, and indifferent to be uſed, or let alone, as People fee fit.
Otherwife it would be unlawful to do any thing in the World almoſt but Alms
no one muſt purchaſe any thing, but what was abfolutely neceffary, becauſe the Su-
perfluity might be better employed: And even of things abfolutely neceffary, no
one muſt take the better, when the worſe will ferve, becauſe the Surplufage of Price
might ſerve to Charitable Ufes; and the Mind would be perpetually perplexed. And
fometimes the innocent and lawful Pleaſures of this Life, are in a Manner neceffary
to the fweetning of Mens Cares, to the relaxing of their Minds, and to the making
Life it felf go down with any tolerable Reliſh; but it is the Exceſs of any thing of
this Nature that is blameable, it is the Extremity of things that is to be avoided.
And in the particular Matter before us, it is that exceffive Coftlinefs of Apparel, that
difables People from expending any thing on good, Uſes, that ought to be condem-
ned: When the Woman carries the Fortune of a Family about her, and almoſt
labours
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
279
labours under the Weight and Preffure of her Ornaments, and is really in fome Pain
her felf, for the fantaſtick and imaginary Pleafures of thinking fhe is acceptable to
another. This muſt needs be blameable, becauſe it is chooſing to do that, which
is, at leaſt, neither neceffary, nor convenient, nor commanded, before that which
is both excellent, and neceffary, and their Duty: Such as the doing Acts of Chari-
ty, i. e. Acts of Kindneſs in their ſeveral Relations, and according to their ſeveral Qua-
lities and Abilities; for fince Charity and doing Good is the very End of God's be-
ſtowing Riches upon People, and the Pretence and Ground of their defiring them,
and the beſt and trueft Uſe they can poffibly make of them; they muſt needs be
ſelf-condemned, that hinder themſelves from putting Riches to this good Ufe, by
laying them out fo very extravagantly and unprofitably upon themſelves; that, to
pleaſe a vitiated Imagination of their own, and attract the Eyes of others, they, in
fome Senſe, defraud fo many poor and needy Creatures of the true and folid necef-
fary Comforts of this Life; that ſweep the Ground with that, whoſe Purchaſe would
have cloathed the Naked, fed the Hungry, fatisfied the Thirsty, and comforted the
Hearts of many Sick, and Prifoners.
I do not chooſe to urge this Matter with the many Inftances and Examples of fa-
mous Saints of old, who parted with their Garments, fold their Ornaments and
Jewels, to feed and cloath their Saviour, in his needy Servants; for though they are
glorious Inſtances, burning and fhining Lights; yet they are rather hung to fhew
where Folks may go, than to direct them where they must. Whatever any one
does in this kind, is unquestionably very good, but yet not neceffarily to be imi-
tated by thoſe that are not, nor thoſe that are in the fame Circumftances; but
they may ſerve to fhew, that, certainly, thefe excellent and charitable Chriftians
would have thought it an unpardonable Fault, to have beftowed any exceffively fu-
perfluous Coft upon themſelves, when they thereby fhould be difabled from com-
plying with ſo many noble and good-natured Precepts of their Lord and Saviour,
in behalf of Charity.
Lastly, We may reaſonably prefume, that the Apoſtles intended to forbid all fuch
Coftlineſs of Apparel, as exceeds the Quality and Ability of the Wearer. First, Be-
cauſe this is an Offence againſt Decency, that natural and becoming Order, which
both the Wiſdom and the Cuſtom of all Times and Places have agreed upon, as
moſt convenient to diſcriminate and difference People one from another, and, in
the matter of Quality, to prevent all Difrefpect, Diſorder and Confufion. And
though an Offence of this kind, barely thus confidered, be not a Sin, indeed, againſt
God; yet, in wife and civilized Nations, this kind of Luxury has more or leſs been
frequently reſtrained by Penal Laws; which fhews not only fome Inconvenience,
but fome kind of Deformity, and natural Indecency to belong to it. But Secondly,
It frequently occafions Poverty to the Family, it exhaufts the Gain and Labour of
the Calling moft unconscionably, when that, which ſhould maintain the Houſe,
and keep the Children, and fupport the Trade and Credit of Men, is trifled off in
Shew and gay Appearance, not only to the Shame and great Difgrace, but to the
Ruin (often) of the Hufbands. It breaks the Heart of Induſtry, to ſee its Fruits
fquandered fo lavishly away, fo fimply, and ſo ſoon, by light and wanton Fancies:
And when Men fee the End of all their Toils ſo near, they are frequently tempted
to a careleſs and a deſperate Ill-huſbandry: Beſides the Neceffity there is of con-
tracting Debts, and entring into new Engagements to fupport the Vanity, which
occafion them a thouſand Mifchiefs, and which are almoſt unavoidable, where Peo-
ple will go beyond their juſt Abilities and proper Qualities. It is impoffible for any
Woman to be a good Wife, without confidering this; it is a wrong Courſe that
People take, to be always thinking on their Family, or Fortune, and forget their
Hufbands
280
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
Huſbands Quality and Eſtate, by which alone they are to govern themſelves in theſe
Matters. They call their Marriage, changing their Condition; they ſhould remem-
ber, among other Senfes of thofe Words, that they change their Condition for that
of their Huſband, be it what it will, better or worfe, and fuit their Minds to that,
and then the reft will follow as it: fhould.
But Thirdly, It cannot eaſily be, but that the Occafion of this exceffive Coftlineſs
and Gaiety muft be, at the Bottom, Pride. It is very poffible, and very frequent
(I hope) for People to bear as good and humble Minds, under the richeſt and moſt
coftly Attire, as under the moſt coarfe and mean; and it is fome kind of Defence,
when People go according to their State and Quality, that they are not therefore
proud and haughty: But it is almoft impoffible, when People will exceed their Qua-
lity and Eſtates, to father fuch a Vanity on any thing but Pride; one cannot tell
where to lay it elſe. And this ſhould be conſidered by all Women as well as Wives,
fince others are as guilty of this Extravagance as they.
Theſe are the Things that we may reaſonably prefume, the Apoſtles intended to
forbid the Chriſtian Women: First, All Pride and Vanity, Self-conceit, and Con-
tempt or Scorn of others. Secondly, All fuch Habits and Faſhions as may (whether
defigned or no to do it) ferve to wanton and immodeſt Purpoſes, and prove Occa-
fions of falling. Thirdly, All fuch Dreffing as confumes that Time that is due to
God, their Neighbours, and their felves, and hinders them from carefully and fo-
berly diſcharging all the Duties that they owe, in their feveral Relations, to Huf-
bands, Children and Servants. Fourthly, All fuch Coftlineſs of Habit as difables
them from doing good in their Generations, and from exercifing fuch Acts of Cha-
rity, as they otherwiſe ſhould, and, may be, would perform, but cannot, through
their laviſh and extravagant Expences on themſelves. And, Laftly, all fuch Coftli-
nefs of Habit, as is above their Qualities, and juſt and reaſonable Abilities; fuch as
> appears an Affectation of greater Wealth and Honour, and Superiority, than is truly
due to them. Theſe are Things that no confidering Body can ſuſpect are not for-
bidden; becauſe, with retaining thefe, the Women can neither be good Wives, nor
good Chriftians. And they, who keep within theſe Bounds, cannot reaſonably fear
offending either in the Matter, or the Manner of their Drefs.
I have only to remark, that the Rules of this or any other Thing whatever,
though never ſo ſtrictly and cautiouſly laid down, will be fubject to Mifconftruction
and Miſtake, (and confequently the Practice to Miſcarriage) without fome Care and
Diſcretion in confidering and applying them: In every one of thefe Particulars be-
fore-mentioned, there are fome Niceties and Difficulties, that if People will not
confider Things and Circumſtances, they will fall upon, and argue obftinately, and
cenfure confidently and uncharitably. There are Exceptions to be made, and fome
Allowances in each Particular: For, Firſt, that may be accounted Pride and Haugh-
tineſs, which is, it may be, unhappily the natural Air and Mien of People; and
that may be truly Pride in fome, that is but decently affuming in another. And,
Secondly, fome heated and corrupted Hearts may make a Drefs, which is neither
naturally nor defignedly immodeft, ferve to inflame them to impure Defires, and
make to themſelves Temptations of every thing. And, Thirdly, fome Dreffings on
Occafions, which every one cannot know or judge of, may expend more Time than
others, and more than is ordinarily taken by themſelves, and cauſe them to neglect
fome greater Duty for the prefent, which After-diligence may well repair. And,
Fourthly, there may happen fome accidental Occafions that may require more coftly
Habits, than is well-confiftent, for the prefent, with doing Good to others; every
thing has its Seaſon. Lastly, There may be Occafions, where it may be lawful anḍ
expedient both, to exceed themſelves in Habits, and forget their Qualities and
Stations,
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
281
ㅏ
​Stations, which they may afterwards as ſeaſonably remember, and return in Sober-
neſs and Conftancy again to themſelves. And therefore People are not to be over-
fcrupulous themſelves in any of theſe Matters, nor hafty in their cenfuring another.
There are too many Things to be confidered, to determine quickly. One may with
much more Eaſe acquit or condemn one's felf, in all or any of theſe Particulars,
becauſe we know ourſelves much better, and can frequently recover, to our Me-
mory the Principles we go upon, and know their Firmneſs, or their Failings. A
little Underſtanding, with a great deal of Sincerity and good Intention, will be able
to direct fufficiently and fafely in any of theſe Matters.
Having therefore fhewn in what Senſe theſe Words of St. Peter, confidered with
thoſe of St. Paul, are not to be underſtood: And, Secondly, in what they were moft
probably to be taken, I ſhould now proceed to fhew, what Ornaments the Apoſtles
adviſe the Chriſtian Women more eſpecially to provide and look after; to recom-
mend themſelves to God, and to their Huſbands. But becauſe that Subject will take
up more Time, than is now left us, to ſpeak to it, I will, for the preſent; add a
few farther Confiderations concerning Habits, and conclude.
And, Firſt, although theſe Rules are moſt eſpecially directed, and relate to Wo-
men; yet are the Men alſo concerned in them, and may offend againſt them: The
Reaſon of the Injunctions extends to them; and if they Tranfgrefs in any of
theſe Particulars, no queftion but they are to blame; and fo much more than Wo-
men, by how much they account themſelves the more reaſonable and fuperiour
Creatures of the two. It is true, that St. Peter and St. Paul addrefs their Inftructi-
ons to the Women, warning them againſt the Weakneffes and Failings that have
all along been reckoned properly their own, and more peculiar to their Sex: But it
is as true, that they would have thofe Imperfections cured and taken away where-
ever they appeared; and therefore, if they miſtake the Sex, they are yet right in
their Deſign and Purpoſe, and undoubtedly forbid to Men, whatever is as reaſonable
and fit to be forbidden them, as to Women: And therefore Pride and Vanity, and
Self-conceitedneſs, upon the ſcore of Garb and Dreſs, all vicious and loofe Defigns,
all intolerable Waft of Time, all extravagant Expence, and all undecent Habit, un-
befitting their Condition and Eſtate, are as much prohibited to Men, as Women,
by the Scriptures, and are truly more ſhameful and contemptible in them.
Secondly, All other Women are concerned, as well as Wives, in theſe Injunctions;
all, that are capable of offending againſt Rules, are capable of obferving them in
greater or lefs degree, and are therefore fo far concerned in them: And fince the
main Deſign of the Apoftles is, to make the Women good Wives and good Chriſtians,
the Obſervance of their Rules is fure to make them good Chriftians, and to diſpoſe
and fit them to be good Wives, againſt they come to that Eftate.
It is a great Reproach to the Wiſdom, Sobriety, and Confideration of the Men,
to fee the Women reckon themſelves fo fure of gaining their Deſigns and Ends up-
on them, by the Care and little Arts they uſe in dreffing and adorning themſelves.
They fay, in effect, theſe wife and noble Creatures, that are fo much our Mafters
by defign of Nature, Cuſtom, and God's Commands, and fo fuperiour in Abilities
of Body and Mind, are yet enfnared by little Fineries and Deceits, and caught by
Baits as filly and fallacious, as the fimpleft Birds and Beafts, and Fiſhes. They fay
a great deal more than this, in truth and in effect, when they put on their fine
Attire, with full account of their Defign's fucceeding; and Men deſerve this ſcorn-
ful Impofition, who look no farther than Appearances, and are governed by their
Fancies, not their Judgment or Underſtanding. Theſe kind of Frauds do com-
monly come home to their Artificers, and are returned again to their Diſappoint-
ment, and ſometimes to their great Mifery; for the People that are thus enfnared,
by theſe poor Arts and Deceits, do oftentimes awake from their delufive Slumbers,
and fall into a ſtrange incurable Averſion to ſuch as have ſo cheated them; and uſe
2 Ee
them
282
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
them as Amnon did abufed Tamar, whofe Hatred wherewith he hated her, was greater
than the Love wherewith be loved her. The Remembrance of their Folly engages
them in Cruelty and Injuſtice, by which they would revenge their grievous and vex-
atious Diſappointments. This is intolerably wicked on the Men's Part; but fuch
Miſchiefs happen too often not to be obferved by the Women, who might learn
from hence how light and inconftant that Affection is, which is kindled and in-
creaſed by little Shifts and Artifices, and how foon it is extinguiſhed; and into how
much Sorrow and Affliction, it may throw them.
It is very plain, that the Qualities which fhould recommend People to one ano
ther, who are to live always together, fhould be fuch as will laſt, and continue with
them; not fuch as pleaſe them only for a little while; but fuch as will bear Deli-
beration before, and a fatisfactory Reflection afterwards. The Fancy is a very Wea-
ther-cock, and varies upon every Turn, and little Accident; and it is too great a
Riſk to run, to build the Hopes of being happy upon any thing fo uncertain. The
only wife way, therefore, is to make provifion of fuch Qualifications, as when Peo-
ple are ſober, and in their thinking and confidering Moods, they fhall earnestly de-
fire and value, and know are fit and neceffary for their purpoſe; fuch as will not
only recommend them, at firſt, to Favour and Goodliking, but fuch as will alſo
keep them in eſteem all their Lives long: This is the likelieſt way to make their
Condition happy. Now theſe good Qualifications are not the beautifying and adorn-
ing themſelves with Gold and Pearls, and plaited Hair, the dreffing looſely and im-
modeftly, the devoting a World of Time, and moſt of their Eftate, to the ſetting
themſelves out, to all appearance, much above their Fortune and their Qualities.
Theſe Things will commend them to neither good, nor wife, or fober People; but
fuch good Qualities and Virtues as the Scriptures defcribe and injoin to them, and
which will recommend them to the Favour both of God and Man.
Thirdly and lastly; There is fomething in Habit peculiarly decent, proper and be-
coming to every Age, as well as Quality, which ought to be obferved. The Cuf
toms of all wife and civilized Nations, in conformity to Nature and good Reaſon,
have all along made Difference betwixt the Habits of old and young People, and
fet a Mark of Lightneſs upon fuch as would not feem to know when they grew
old, though all the World about them knew and faw it. This Humour is not, of
itſelf, to be charged as finful, but wonderfully vain and weak; againſt the Rules of
Reaſon, which injoin to all People, as far as can confift with their Conveniency,
whatever Things are honeft, lovely, and of good report. It argues a Mind intent, and
fixed too faſt upon the little inconfiderable Trifles of this World, and too, too little
thoughtful of the great momentous Matters of the other: The older People grow,
the more they ſee the Emptinefs and Vanity of all the Things they heretofore de-
lighted in; and they refuſe them now, although they uſed them innocently then :
Age and Experience have convinced them, that ſuch Things are not Entertainments
for confidering Minds: They are glad to excuſe thoſe vain Amuſements paſt, with
the Giddineſs and Thoughtleffneſs of Youth, the Cuſtoms of the Times, and Con-
verfation of the Neighbourhood. But now, another Age requires another Way of
Living: It is Time to look a little Forward, and think of putting off the Body it-
felf; but before that, all the Mind's corrupt and vain Affections, all its Follies, Weak-
neffes and Failings, amongſt which, certainly, the careful and follicitous Concern for
Habit and Attire may well be reckoned: And therefore, for People, well ftricken
in Years, to mind theſe filly Matters, is to forget the Rules of Decency, and to
neglect the Warning God and Nature give them: And, laftly, to afford fome little
ground to Sufpicion, that they want thoſe true and real Ornaments and Beauties,
which adorn the Souls, and render moft agreeable the Converfation of good Women,
fuch as the Apoſtles, we fhall fee, defcribe and recommend in the following Diſcourſe.
DISCOURSE
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
28.3
DISCOURSE X.
I PETER III. VERSE 4:
But let it be the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which is not
corruptible, even the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, which
is in the Sight of God of great Price.
H
AVING ſpoken at large to the negative Advice of St. Peter and St. Paul,
what fort of Ornaments they would not have the Women follicitous about;
I am now come to their affirmative and pofitive Injunctions, which ſhew
with what kind of Ornaments they are defirous all Chriftian Women
fhould adorn themſelves: But let it be the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which is
not corruptible, even the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, which is in the Sight of
God of great Price: In fpeaking to which, I will, firft, confider the Terms here uſed,
and then the Things intended by them.
;
By the hidden Man of the Heart, is meant, the Heart which is hidden in a Man.
There is mention made in the Scriptures of the Old Man, and the New, or renewed
Man, and of the New Creature: By which are understood the State of Nature, and
the State of Grace; a State of Sin and Corruption, and a State of Regeneration, or
Renovation of Life, entered upon by Baptiſm, and continued in, by leading a Vir-
tuous, Godly and Religious Life, according to the Laws and Commands of Chrift
ſo that all baptized Chriſtians, living honeſtly and well, have put off the Old Man,
and are become New Creatures, renewed and regenerated by the Holy Spirit: And
may therefore know their Condition and its Security, although they may not un-
derſtand the Meaning of the Terms, Old and New Man, Regeneration or Renovation.
A Man is alſo divided into the outward and inward Man, in the Scriptures; which
may alſo be taken fometimes for the Old and the New Man; but more generally
for the Body and the Mind; for that which outwardly appears, and for that which
is fecret and undiſcovered; for that which is open and fèen, and that which is
hidden; for Actions and Affections, for Practices and Principles; the firſt being at-
tributed to the Body, the latter to the Mind: And therefore the hidden Man of the
* Heart, is the Heart of every one that lies hidden: And this it is the Apoſtles would
have beautiful and adorned; they would have the Minds of Chriftian Women filled
with good Principles; their Hearts. fhould be ſtored with ſuch good Qualities and
Virtues, as are truly their Grace and Ornament, and cauſe them to appear as lovely
and defireable, as all exteriour Garb and Dreſs can make their Bodies; and this
adorning is to be in that which is not corruptible: Gold and Pearls, and coſtly rich
Apparel, are all of them perishable Things; Things that corrupt, confume, and
wear away in Time; Things that are eaten up with Ruſt, and Moth, ſubject to
Thieves, and many Accidents: The Things that ferve the Body, either for Ufe or
Ornament, arë, like the Body, corruptible and wafting: But the Mind, immaterial
and immortal, requires and looks for Ornaments fuited and proper to it. Amongst
which, one confiderable one is a a meek and quiet, good and gentle Temper; a lowly
modeft Opinion of themfelves, together with a filent, quiet and contented Mind
under their Condition: And becauſe thoſe Ornaments are moſt valued that are moſt
coftly;
284
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
coftly; therefore, to recommend this meek and quiet Spirit the more, the Apoſtle
adds, that it is in the Sight of God of great Price; i. e. commanded and approved,
and valued highly by him. From the Terms thus explained, it appears that the
Thing the Apoſtle would fay, is this; that the readieſt way for Chriſtian Women
to recommend themſelves to God, and to their Hufbands, is to ftock themſelves
with Virtues and good Qualities, with inward Accompliſhments, fuch as are laſting,
and will be of greateſt Uſe and Service both here, and hereafter: This will appear
from confidering the Particulars injoined. First, the hidden Man of the Heart is
to be adorned, i. e. the Mind.
The Mind, or Soul, is certainly the fuperiour Part, and better half of Man, as
being that which is to guide and govern the other, and that which makes him a
reaſonable and religious Creature, the greateſt Privilege and Honour he is capable
of enjoying; and therefore certainly it deferves to be equally taken Care of with the
Body, and to be cultivated and improved. To be follicitous for fetting out the
Body to advantage, and neglect the cultivating the Mind, is as if a Man ſhould be
at great Expence to build the Walls and Outfide of his Houſe exceeding fine and
ſtately, and fhew no manner of Contrivance in the Infide of it; regarding neither
Beauty nor Convenience, nor intending any Furniture: This would be building for
the Sight and Pleaſure of People paffing by, and wanting in the mean Time an
Habitation for himſelf. No doubt but every one would blame fuch a Man for
neglecting that which is moſt properly the Houſe, and ought to be moſt ſerviceable
and convenient, for the Sake of appearing well to Strangers, without any farther
ufe. They are no wifer, nor leſs to be condemned, who ſpend their Time and
Pains to appear externally fine and handſome, while the Mind within is fuffered to
lie waft, and wild, and unimproved. This is, indeed, to be wanting to their own
Defign and Aim, which is to make at leaſt a good Shew; for the Mind is the Prin-
ciple of that Life and Motion, which is to give true Grace and Ornament to all
their Actions: So that however well the Body may be framed by Nature, however
fine and handſome it appear; yet if the Mind be weak or filly, the firſt Motion
fhews it: they can no fooner ſpeak or ftir, but they diſcover their Defects: They
are like fine Statues, whilſt they ſtand motionleſs and filent; but when they fhew
they are alive, by Speech and Motion, they turn to aukward and irregular Figures,
and loſe their Comelineſs immediately. This fhews from whence the Beauty and
the Grace of all exteriour Geſture and Action proceeds, even from the Mind; which,
being in its ſelf accompliſhed inwardly, does govern and direct the outward Carriage
and Behaviour of the Body, fo as to make it handſome and becoming; ſo that,
on this Account, they who defire Favour, Acceptance, and Goodwill upon the fcore
of Beauty, and a good Appearance, would never find their Labour loft, in adorning
and improving of their Minds; it will both anſwer that, and a great many better
Ends. The Heart or Mind of Man is, of it felf, invifible and hidden, but fo is God
himſelf, and yet acts all: There is nothing diſcovers it ſelf more, or ſooner, in
almoſt every Look and Geſture; fo that no Care or Pains can be too great about this
firſt Mover, this mighty Spring, that communicates Life and Motion to all the reſt.
Now the Mind (and here I ſpeak of Men as well as Women) is to be improved
by reading, thinking, and confidering: People come to obtain good Qualities of the
Mind, as they come by feveral Habits of the Body, by Uſe and Cuſtom, and taking
the proper Courſes; fo they come to Virtue and Religion, Wiſdom and Diſcretion.
They find that they are born with Powers and Faculties, different from, and fupe-
riour to thoſe of other Creatures; they find that they can call to mind Things paſt,
can confider Things prefent, and compare them one with another, and know their
Difference, and can determine what to do in time to come; they can inquire into
their
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
285
1
曾
​their own Original, and find their Species has not been from all Eternity, but was
in time created by a Being, exiſting neceffarily it felf, and voluntarily producing
all Things elſe: They find this powerful Being has created them with fo many
Wants, that they muſt needs depend upon him for Supply, which brings them,
by Neceffity, to worſhip him by Prayer; and yet hath crowned them with fo ma-
ny Bleffings and good Things, that natural Gratitude excites them to return him
Praiſe and Thankſgiving: By which they unavoidably become Religious Creatures :
They evidently ſee that God hath made them and defigned them to be fo, by
giving them Abilities and Powers of worſhipping and ferving him by Prayer and
Praiſe, which are denied to all the Creatures of the World but them: For,
finding it exceedingly juft and reaſonable, that a Being ſo beneficent and good, as
to make them what they are, and to give them what they have, and moreover fo
powerful as to ſupply them with what they ask and want; that fuch a Being
ſhould be worſhipped, honoured and revered; and finding that no part of the Cre-
ation is capable, befides Mankind, of paying him this Worſhip and Religious
Honour and Service, they cannot help concluding, that it lies on them to do it,
and that it is one, and a mighty End of their Creation.
Thus, by a little eafy thinking and confidering, the Mind is filled with the
Knowledge and Belief of God, the good and powerful Author and Creator of it,
and all Things elfe; and fully convinced of the Neceffity of worſhipping and ſerv-
ing him, and that every Man and Woman in the World is defigned, by God, to be
a Reaſonable, and therefore a Religious Creature. This is the firft Improvement
of the Mind.
The next Improvement of it, is, to the Exerciſe of Virtue. Without Religion,'
People will never be Virtuous; but when that good Foundation is once laid, the
other follows eaſily. When we confider God in all his Excellencies and adorable
Perfections, we find him in himſelf Eternal, and Almighty, and All-wife, and Pure,
and Holy; and, with respect to Us, and all his Creatures, Juft and Righteous,
Merciful and Good: And finding theſe to be the Perfections of the moſt perfect
Being, we conclude, that the nearer we approach to theſe Perfections, the more
perfect Creatures we our felves are, and the more loved and valued by this perfect
Being. Theſe are the two Bottoms, upon which the reaſonable Defire of being
Virtuous is originally founded, the Defire of being as excellent and perfect as
our Nature is capable of, and our Abilities and Faculties are fitted to make us; and
the Defire of rendring our felves moſt acceptable to God, who is the Rewarder of
fuch as endeavour to be like him, and to pleaſe him. Upon thefe accounts, we
are excited to be pure and holy, chaft and clean, and to preſerve our felves fpot-
lefs and undefiled; becauſe we know this Sanctity and Innocence is greatly per-
fective of our Nature, keeps us in the Rank and Order God hath placed us;
whereas Pollution and Impurity degrade and fink us below our ſelves, and ſet us
on the fquare with Beafts that have no Underſtanding; and becauſe we know this
Virtue is altogether Heavenly, and of fweeteft Odour before God, and will be re-
compenced by him, with the moſt pure, fincere and undiſturb'd Pleaſures in Hea-
ven, the Seat of Holiness it felf: Upon theſe accounts, we are excited to be juft
and righteous to one another in all our Dealings; becauſe we know it is fo ex-
cellent and reaſonable in it felf, and fo becoming us, and neceffary for us; that
when we depart from it, we do, in a manner, difclaim all farther Converfation
with Mankind, not being willing to be govern'd by that everlaſting Rule of Righ-
teouſneſs, of doing by others, as we would think reaſonable, in the like Caſe,
to be dealt withal our felves; but fetting up our private Will and Humour in its
ſtead, and ſtudying our Conveniency and Pleaſure only.
2 F f
There
286
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
There is nothing more Natural, than that every one ſhould confult his own Eaſe
and Benefit in the first Place: But becauſe that which belongs to every one, is real-
ly no Priviledge to any one; therefore every one muſt depart from his natural Right
in fome Cafes, and fubmit to Rules that are unexceptionable, and impartial, and fa-
vour all the World alike; amongſt which, none is like that Rule of Reaſon and
Religion above-mentioned, of dealing with others, as we would think it juſt we
ſhould be dealt withal our felves. There is no Body can efcape feeing the Reafon-
ableneſs of this Rule, and the Neceffity of obſerving it, to the Security both of our
Being, and of all we have; and the clofer we keep to it, the better and more per-
fect we are in our felves, and the more uſeful to others; it gives us Pre-eminence
and Superiority above all that neglect or overlook it: And farthermore, it gives us
Favour with God; we refemble him very much, and are exceedingly approv'd of
by him, in being juft and righteous. He cannot indeed be otherwiſe, there being
nothing to fway or move him from his Eternal Rectitude; but we are capable of
being biaffed and corrupted by the Temptations both of Pleaſure and Advantage;
and that is the Foundation of our Merit (in its fober Senfe), from thence arifes our
Ability of exercifing Virtue, and the Opportunity of pleafing God, by preferring
the being perfect in our Nature, as he intended us, and choofing rather to refem-
ble him in his adorable Attribute of Juft and Righteous, than to be pleaſed or
profited, to his Dishonour, to our own Shame and Infamy, and to the Injury and
Detriment of others: Upon thefe accounts it is, we are alfo excited to be com-
paffionate and good; the fhewing Pity, and the being kind to ſuch as ſtand in
need of our Affiftance, is without doubt an Excellence, and great Perfection of
our Nature. To pardon fuch as have offended us, and fuch as are not only lia-
ble to our Diſpleaſure, but to our Puniſhment; to fatisfy the hungry and the
thirſty Souls, to cloath the Naked, vifit the Sick and, Prifoners, to comfort the
Diftreffed, to fhelter the Weak and Innocent from the Power of Infolent and
great Men; to right the Injured and Oppreffed; in a word, to do good, in any
kind, by Money, Counfel, and Affiftance, by Favour or Authority, does natural-
ly give Men an uncontrouled, indifputable Power and Superiority: The Benefac-
tor will be always uppermoft, in the Praiſe, and Honour and Eſteem of all that
fee and know, as well as of fuch as feel his Goodneſs: And hereto are we alſo
mov'd, by confidering, that, by doing good, and fhewing Mercy, we reſemble
moſt our Heavenly Father, the Author and Giver of all good Things; and who
beſtows his Favours and his Bleffings upon Men, with this Deſign, that they
fhould alſo favour and do good to one another, and be themſelves a Bleffing to
their Generation: And hath alfo promiſed, in a thouſand Places, to recompence
moſt amply fuch as prefer the being like to him, and doing all the good they
can, to any little private Intereſt and Advantage of their own. There is, I think,
no Queſtion to be made, but that the Defire of being excellent and perfect, as
we are capable of being, and the Defire of rendring our felves acceptable with
God, and being favour'd by him here, and recompenced by him hereafter, are the
Bottom and Foundation, upon which are built both the Defire and Aim of be-
ing Virtuous; which was the fecond Thing to which the Mind was to attend, and
be improved.
The third Improvement is, to Wiſdom and Diſcretion; by which I underſtand
not only the Knowledge and Dexterity of being Religious, and exercifing Virtue
with Advantage; but alſo an Ability of behaving themſelves prudently and decent-
ly, on all Occafions, towards all People. It is poffible to be both Religious and
Virtuous, without Difcretion; but neither Virtue nor Religion are credited or pro-
moted by fuch People: They are good themſelves; but their Good is not at
all
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
287
all edifying, but rather hurtful: The Extravagance of their Zeal, the indifcreet Ma
nagery of their Devotion, the Indecency of their unuſual Way and Gefture, are fo
far from promoting and inviting to Religion, that they rather give occafion of Pity
to wife and good People, occafion of Offence and Trouble to weak and little-con-
fidering Folks, and occafion of Scorn and Mockage to light and profane one's;
whereas a fober, unaffected, grave and diſcreet Deportment, both of Voice and Gef-
ture in the publick Worſhip of God, is not only handſome and becoming in it felf,
but does infenfibly and unaccountably provoke the Zeal of others to Imitation, and
excites in them religious and devout Thoughts. And fo it is with the Exercife of
many Virtues, which lofe much of their Power and Efficacy, for want of prudent
and difcreet Conduct. Thus one may lofe fome Part of Reſpect to Justice, by fee-
ing a Criminal treated inhumanly by either Judge or Council, or elfe by feeing him
condemned with unfeaſonable Sarcaſm, and in a Vein of Lightneſs; and yet he
fhall deferve his Sentence, and be justly punished: But yet this Juftice, thus admi-
niftred, ſhall not have fo good Effects upon the Minds of Spectators, as it would,
if they difcerned fuch Gravity, fuch Calmnefs and becoming Evennefs of Temper,
as would fhew neither Diſpleaſure at the Offender's Perfon, nor Unconcernednefs at
his Offence; but a due Mixture of Zeal for the Security of Laws and Government,
and of Humanity and Pity for the Miferable; for that is the Work and Bufinefs of
Diſcretion, to attain one's End, by Means not only juft and righteous in themſelves,
but alſo well approved of, and beft liked by others; to do what ſhould, and muft
be done, but in the moſt becoming and moft acceptable Manner.
Thus Clemency and Lenity may be fo indifcreetly exerciſed to fome Delinquents,
with refpect to the Manner, and fo unfeaſonably, with refpect to Time and Oppor-
tunity, that it ſhall rather feem a Difregard to Juſtice, and an Encouragement to
Villany, than an Effect of Mercy and Compaffion: And though Nature ftrongly
inclines to Pity, and the Heart of Man yields eafily to Acts of Mercy; yet when
it is unfeaſonably and improperly fhewn, it miffes its Effects upon Men's Minds,
and is neither approved nor praiſed.
It is fo, I think, with every thing befides of Moment; where Prudence and Dif-
cretion do not ſway and manage, the beſt of Virtues lofe their Power and Efficacy:
i. e. there is no Compariſon betwixt the Good they do under a weak imprudent
Management, and what they would do, if wifely and difcreetly ordered: And if
Diſcretion gives ſo great Advantage to Religion and Virtue, which are able of them-
felves to bear themſelves out, it muſt be altogether neceffary, in other Matters of
leſs Moment, to make them paſs tolerably. The Truth of it is, without Diſcretion,
neither Man nor Woman are converfable with, nor can they do any Thing accept-
ably; it is that which gives Grace and Ornament to all they fay and do, nor is it
to be neglected in the ſmalleſt Matters.
It is hard to tell how it is to be acquired; but yet the Want of it is fenfibly dif
cerned on all Occafions, and appears in all the Follies and Abfurdities that People
commit. It is, as I faid, a Dexterity and Ability of behaving one's felf prudently
and decently to all People on all Occafions; and it is fo very uſeful and becoming
every Body, that it ought to be ftudied much more carefully, than it ufually is;
fince every Body is the better for it themſelves, and the more ferviceable to others.
It may be, Solomon intended to deſcribe it in Part, when he tells us, Ecclef. iii. 1.
that there is, to every Thing a Seafon, and a Time to every purpose under Heaven: a
Time to break down, and a Time to build up; a Time to weep, and a Time to laugh; a
Time to get, and a Time to lofe; a Time to keep, and a Time to caft away; a Fime to
keep filence, and a Time to speak: That is, there is a Seafon and Time fo
proper and
convenient for all Purpoſes, that they, who obferve it not, will infallibly fall into
great
288
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
great Abfurdities, and commit a World of Errors and Indecencies; and they, who
do obſerve theſe proper Times, ſhall ſhew themſelves wife and confiderable Peo-
ple, effect their Purpoſes much better, and live in more Eſteem: Regard to Time,
is undoubtedly a huge and neceffary Part of Diſcretion; but to that muſt alſo be
joyned a due Regard to the Age, and Place, Perſon, and Quality of thoſe we have
to deal withal: The more general and extenfive our Confideration and Obſervation
of theſe Things are, the likelier is our Conduct to be prudent and diſcreet, the lefs
Offences and Abfurdities we ſhall commit, the more becoming and more uſeful will
our Converſation and Behaviour be. And I infift the more on this, becauſe it is
probable, that more domeſtick Evils and Uneafineffes, that trouble Families, ariſe
from want of Diſcretion, than want of either Virtue or Religion: And therefore,
when I was ſhewing how the hidden Man of the Heart was to be adorned; i. e.
how the Mind was to be cultivated and improved; I made no doubt of adding
Wiſdom and Diſcretion to Virtue and Religion, as Things neceffary. For fince the
Apoſtle's Purpoſe is, that Chriſtian Women ſhould be good Wives, as well as Vir-
tuous and Religious, and that it is their Duty to be one as well as the other, it
muſt needs be convenient to urge the providing fuch Qualities, as are neceffary
to the diſcharging that Duty, next to Virtue and Religion: And fince, without a
competent Share of Prudence and Diſcretion, it is not poffible to be either good
Wives, or good Mothers, or good Miftreffes of Families, it is to be no little Part of
their Concern to get as much of Prudence and Diſcretion as they can.
The next Part of the Deſcription of this Ornament of the Mind, is, That it is
to be in that which is not corruptible. Whatever we can poffibly adorn the Body
with, is corruptible, and wears away with Time; and all the Beauty, and the Come-
lineſs it gives, is ſhort and periſhing. Sometimes it happens, that theſe coſtly Orna-
ments, and gay Attire are fo far from adding any Grace or Beauty to the Parties,
that they are rather to their Diſadvantage, and expoſe them to Derifion, and deceive
none but themſelves: But granting they obtain their End, and render them as lovely
as they would appear, how long does ſuch a vain Deluſion laſt, and what is the
Uſe of being ſo pleaſed? How many hundred Accidents, how many fore Diſeaſes,
quite deſtroy this Creature of the Imigination in a little Time? And if it ſcape theſe
Hazards, how ſtrangely do a few Years diſguiſe the faireſt Face, ſo that an abſent
Friend fhall hardly know it when he comes again? Sure fo fantaſtick, uſeleſs, and
fo periſhing a Thing as this, cannot be worth the Care, and Pains, and Coft, that
People are at about it; the Praiſe and Pleaſure of it, whilft it lafts, is inconfiderable
and empty; and when it is gone (as it is quickly gone) it leaves either Shame or
Grief, or both, to fuch as have over-rated it whilſt they had it, and valued them-
felves upon that weak Account: They are puniſhed in fome proportion to the vain
Eſteem they held themſelves in.
But now, the Mind, when that is cultivated and improved, anfwers fufficiently
for all the Care, and Time, and Pains, that are beſtowed upon it; the Ornaments
of that, are fuch as anſwer to their End; they repreſent it always beautiful and love-
ly, to all People. It does not depend upon the Humour or the Fancy, whether
Religion, Virtue and Diſcretion, ſhall find Favour and Acceptance; for they will
always find it, and their Force is irreſiſtible: Whilſt Men have Reaſon and Under-
ſtanding, they cannot help approving and defiring thoſe Accompliſhments of the
Soul; nay, we may truft them with their Paffions alfo in this Cafe; for though
their own Practice be againſt them, (guided by their inordinate Defires) yet is their
fecret Judgment always on the Side of Religion, Virtue, and Diſcretion; and they
always like them in others, how much foever they neglect them in themſelves:
The looſeſt People in the World would have their Mothers and their Wives, their
Daughters
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
289
Daughters and their Sifters, and all their Relations, religious, virtuous and diſcreet,
rather than beautiful; thofe whom they love the beft, they would have beſt provi-
ded; and therefore 'tis the fettled Judgment of Mankind, that theſe are the beſt,
the trueft, and moft lafting Ornaments of Women. 'Tis true, that when Beauty
alſo meets, and joins with thefe good Qualities, they give a mutual Luftre to
each other, and fet each other off, to great advantage: This adds a Grace and
Comelineſs to them, and they prefent the greateſt Beauty yet more beautiful; but
theſe are Ornaments when that is gone, and where it never was; theſe are incor-
ruptible, and laſt as long as the Mind itſelf, which they adorn and beautify.
Theſe are of great Ufe and Service; theſe deſerve the greateſt Praiſe and Honour,
and theſe will ſtand them in ftead, when all things elfe are gone and fail them.
All Beauty, and external Ornaments are of very little Ufe and Service, either to
fuch as have them, or fuch as only look on: Whereas Religion, Virtue, and Dif-
cretion are of general Ufe and Benefit; they are ferviceable to every one; they do
not only make thofe, who poffefs them, good; but they make them do good to all
that are concerned, or have to deal with them. Beauty and Wit, and Birth and
Quality, and fine Attire attract the Eyes and Admiration of People: But 'tis another
fort of Admiration that is rais'd by Virtue and Religion; 'tis always attended with
Eſteem, and ſecret Veneration: The one is the tranfient Wonder of a fine Sight,
fomething that glifters, and dazzles the Eyes, and works a little on the Fancy,
and then gives way to other Novelties, that ftill occafion the like Wonder. The
other is the ſtanding Admiration of fome great and noble Work of Nature; which,
by its Beauty, and its Uſefulneſs, begets Eftecin and Liking in the Mind immedi-
ately, and which continue there, and are excited every time the Object, or Idea of
it, rifes or appears. There is therefore no compariſon betwixt the Ufefulness of
Beauty, and the Body's Ornaments, and thofe good Qualities and Graces that are
the Ornaments and Beauties of the Soul; and no compariſon betwixt the Praiſes,
Honour and Efteem, that all good, wife and fober People give and have for virtu-
ous and religious Women, and that ſhort Gaze and Compliment, that vain and
idle Spirits pay to Beauty and fine Habits. Favour, faith one that knew, is de-
ceitful, and Beauty is vain; but a Woman that feareth the Lord, he shall be praiſed.
Favour and Beauty have their Praiſe, vain and deceitful as they are; but it is alſo
vain, and commonly deceitful; i. e. beſtowed with purpoſe of enfnaring and cor-
rupting; but they who fear the Lord in Wiſdom and Virtue, are prais'd in earneſt,
and honoured and eſteemed with all Sincerity.
The Choice then of thefe different Ornaments and Beauties is not difficult; the
one are uſeleſs, the other good and ferviceable; the one are lov'd, and had in
Veneration and Efteem by all good People; the other valued, for a time, by
young and giddy Fancies.
But, lastly, and eſpecially, theſe Ornaments and Beauties of the Mind will ſtand
them in good ſtead, when every thing befides will fail them, and be gone. The
Favour and Affection, which are only built upon good Features, Colour,
Shape, or Dreſs and Ornament, muft neceffarily fall to the Ground, when theſe
decay and die; and therefore this Affection depends upon Diſeaſes, Accidents and
Humour, for its Life and Being: Now this is not fufficient to fecure the Peace
and Happineſs of married Woinen; for, not having it in their Power to ſecure
themſelves againſt Diſeaſes, Accidents, and change of Humour, the Affection, that
is to make and keep them happy, is exceeding precarious, and dependent, and un-
certain: And therefore, fince it is fure and certain, that they ſhall ſtand in need of
fuch Affection and Good-will, as is to keep them eafy and contented all their Lives
long, and longer much than they can hold their Beauty and their Comelinefs; they
2 G g
are
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Duty of Wives to Husbands.
ATT
are obliged in common Prudence, to fecure the Affection of their Husbands, by a-
dorning themſelves with fuch good Qualities, as will render them for ever accepta-
ble to wife and fober Men, even when the Ruins of their Beauty are defaced;
and thoſe are Godliness, and Virtue, and Diſcretion: Where theſe appear, there
will be little want of any thing befides; or if there be, theſe will excufe it, or fup-
ply it: Where Men difcern the Fear of God, and a good Senfe of Religion pre-
vailing in their Minds, and influencing them to the Exercife of all the Virtues that
are proper to them, according to their Opportunities and Abilities; and fee thein
manage their Affairs with Care and Wiſdom, and Difcretion, and diſcharge the
Duties of every Relation, whether Mother, Wife, or Miſtreſs of a Family, with
Diligence and Prudence; they will deſpiſe the Entertainments of a light and idle
Fancy, with refpect to theſe moſt ſolid, uſeful, and moſt lafting Accompliſhments
of Mind: Such Qualities as theſe will give them Grace and Comelineſs throughout,
and render them moſt lovely in the Eyes of all that know them, and (which is
infinitely more) will give them Grace and Favour in the Sight of God. And this
is that which they muſt principally mind; for what would it avail them to be ami-
able to all the World, if under God's Difpleaſure ?
The time will come, fhortly perhaps to fome, and not long hence to moſt,
when they, who have mif-ſpent their Life in thefe, or other idle and unprofitable
Exerciſes, though not directly finful, yet have thereby neglected to improve their
better Part, to dreſs up, and adorn their Souls, and cloath themſelves with Virtues
and good Works, fhall fee the Folly of their Choice, and find how naked and de-
fenceless they ſhall ſtand before the Throne of God, when they muſt give account
how they have paſt their Lives in this World. And they, who have been holy
and religious, conſtant and fervent in their Prayers and Praiſes, frequent in read-
ing of the Scriptures and good Books, and meditating on the Promiſes and Threats
they find therein; and who have all along been careful to be rich in good Works,
bufied in the Exerciſe of Virtue, and conſtantly doing the feveral Duties of their
Life; ſhall find the Advantage alſo of having thus improv'd their Time, their
Talents and Abilities; for they ſhall fee that this was trimming of their Lamps,
and living in a Readineſs and Expectation of the Bridegroom's calling them:
This was the adorning of the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which was not cor-
ruptible; and this they ſhall foon find, is in the fight of God of great price. What
is alfo to be underſtood by the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, here parti-
cularly named, will deferve to be confider'd by itſelf, in the following Difcourfe.
DISCOURSE XI.
I PETER III. VERSE 4.
But let it be the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which is not
corruptible, even the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit,
which is in the fight of God of great price.
S
T. Peter having told the Women, in general, what kind of Ornaments would
beſt become them, the adorning the hidden Man of the Heart, in that which
is not corruptible; i. e. the improving of their Minds in Religion, Virtue and
Diſcretion, which will recommend them to the Favour both of God, and
wife and good Men, and will laſt when all other Ornaments corrupt and periſh;
he
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
201
he comes to one particular Ornament, even that of a meek and quiet Spirit, which,
he tells them, is in the Sight of God of great Price. We have therefore, in the First
Place, to fee what is meant by a meek and quiet Spirit: And, Secondly, to fhew,
how ornamental and becoming it is: And, Thirdly, upon what account it is in the
Sight of God of great Price. First, What is meant by a meek and quiet Spirit. By
thefe Words we eafily and naturally underſtand a ſoft and gentle Temper, a peace-
ful, calm, and patient Mind, oppoſed to Anger, Pride and Fiercenefs, Noifinefs,
Impatience, and a reſtleſs Diſcontent. This kind of Temper is the greateſt Happineſs
that can befal any one: It is that which keeps them eafy themſelves, and makes them
fo to all the World about them. Moft of the Troubles and Misfortunes that befal
Men, are more or lefs uneafy and afflicting, as their Minds are more or lefs prepared
to entertain them; fo we ſee the ſame Evil, that oppreffes and overwhelms one Man,
makes very little Impreffion upon another. One Man grows loud and paffionate
upon the leaſt Occafion; a Look of Slight, a doubtful or an angry Word fets him
on fire immediately; whilſt another bears the moſt apparent Inſults, and heavieſt
Injuries, with great Evenneſs and Patience.
Evenneſs and Patience. One Man is calm and eafy under great
Loffes, whilſt another ſtorms and rages under little Diſappointments: So that a meek
and quiet Spirit does moft evidently give the Advantage to fuch as have it, and
delivers them from many Sufferings to which the fierce and angry, haſty and im-
patient People are fubject; and is therefore, in itſelf, the moſt deſirable Temper that
can be, in a Life, that is the Scene of fo much certain Mifery and Trouble.
But fince the good Qualities we are exhorted to poffefs ourſelves of, and the Things
we are commanded to do, muſt needs be in our Power to get and do; and that a
gentle Temper, a meek and quiet Spirit, are not Things that we can make or get of
ourfelves, but fuch as God gives us, and we bring into the World with us, how
can a Man or Woman be exhorted to adorn themſelves with a meek and quiet Spirit?
It is what every one defires, and every one would have, if he could get it. In
anſwer to this, it muſt be acknowledged, that the Seeds and Principles of all our
Paffions and Humours are born into the World with us; and that there is generally
a Predominancy of fome one Humour, that from our Infancy bears fway above the
reſt, and ſhews itſelf confpicuouſly, and which peculiarly marks out, and denomi-
nates a Man ſo tempered: And it is fure, this mechanical Propenſity of Nature is
not by any Care or Pains, by any Art or Diligence, to be extinguiſhed quite, or al-
together changed in Education: There will be evermore a Tendency and Biaſs to
that fide, as all Men feel. But it is as fure, that Care, and Pains, and Art, and Di-
ligence, and Time, and Ufe, and Cuſtom, and good Confideration will gó a véry
great way to the changing and correcting any Temper whatſoever; and Ufe, we
fay, (with Reafon enough) is a ſecond Nature; and we ſee that People, by habituating
themſelves, do almoft become any thing they will. And therefore, though People
have it not in their Power to change their Tempers altogether, yet they always have
it in their Power to change them as far as God requires them to do it, i. e. as far
as he enables them by Reaſon, and Uſe, to change them, and that is, certainly, to
all miſchievous and evil Effects that flow from them: Thus St. Peter ex-
prevent
horts the Women to adorn themſelves with a meek and quiet Spirit; that is, not to
put off their natural Temper, and put on a New one preſently, but fo to govern
themſelves, as to be meek and quiet upon all Occafions; that, by Reaſon, and Con-
fideration, they reſtrain themſelves from falling into Bitterneſs, Impatience, Mutiny,
and Clamour.
It cannot be, but that, in the Courſe of their Lives, and the Management of their
domeſtick Concerns, a great many croſs perverſe Accidents muſt happen, and they
muſt meet with many Diſappointments, many Provocations, and fevere Trials; and
292
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
if they do not arm themſelves againſt them, with a Patient and a Prudent Spirit,
their Sufferings will be almoft doubled on their Heads. Now they are not called
upon, to be infenfible and ſtupid under what befalls them; but fo to prepare and
behave themſelves, that they may do nothing that mifbecomes them: Herein they
are to exerciſe their Reafon and beft Abilities: Thefe are the Proofs of their Obe-
dience, Patience, and Difcrétion.
It would be of uſe to them, to confider with themſelves, that Matters are ſeldom
mended with them by all the Nolfe and Contention that is raiſed; they are oft-
times made worſe, but very feldom better; neither the Folly nor Perverſeneſs of
Men are cured, nor any miſchievous unlucky Accidents remedied, by Fury and
Impatience: But the Things, which, of themſelves, would have done but little hurt,
do, by an indifcreet and hafty Management, become the occafions of great Mif-
chief: Sometimes, even for a ſmall and inconfiderable matter, they fall into fuch
exceſs of Anger and Diſorder, that they thereby hazard all the Peace and Quiet of
their Lives, even the Affection of their Husbands, of which they ought to be moſt
tender, knowing their Happineſs muſt end, when that is alienated and loft from
them. There are few People in the World that are upon the fquare, and indepen-
dent one upon another, that can compare the Provocations and Occafions of their
Anger and Contention, with the Events and Confequences, with any tolerable Reſt
and Satisfaction, they find them fo unequal and unreaſonable, as well as mifchie-
vous; and much lefs comfortably can People, fo near related, reflect on their Con-
tentions with their Partners and Superiours, to whom they owe Silence at leaſt, and
fome Submiffion. But generally, the Event declares, that nothing could be more
their Wiſdom and their Intereſt, than a meek and quiet Spirit: It would be bet-
ter much, if they would let their Reafon and Confideration teach them beforehand,
(as it might) what the Event will ſhew them afterwards, too late; for the Learn-
ing People get by fuch Experiences, is commonly too dearly paid for; for they
only find, that they have weakly loft, what they can hardly again recover.
old Time, the Holy Women
When St. Peter has done with his general Exhortation to the Wives, to adorn
themſelves with good Qualities, and in particular with a meek and quiet Spirit;
he afterwards enforces his Advice, with telling them, that after this manner, in the
who trufted in God, adorned themfelves, being in Subjection
to their own Hufbands: Even as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him Lord. From
whence we may reaſonably conclude, that a meek and quiet Spirit will eafily in-
fer, their being in Subjection to their Husbands, the obeying them in things rea-
ſonable, and the uſing civil and reſpectful Terms to them, as Sarah, their great Ex-
ample, uſed to Abraham. And Saraḥ indeed had occafion, upon ſeveral accounts,
to exerciſe a great deal of Patience and Submiffion; fhe was to leave her native
Country, and Relations, and follow her Huſband to a ſtrange Land: It did not
appear his Intereft, and, by a difputatious and complaining Woman, might eafily
have been adjudged an unreaſonable Humour, and unaccountable Extravagance,
and not to be complied with, to leave a place where they were eaſy, fettled, and
in great Profperity, to go they knew not whither, upon pretence of I know not
what divine Appearance, Dream, or Vifion; for ſhe had only Abraham's Word
to warrant it. When People are not difpofed to fuch Submiffion, as becomes them,
to the Will of their Superiours, they are full of Scruples and Objections, and making
Arguments of every thing, whilst they, who underſtand, and are refolved to do
their Duty, obey without Difpute, and comply with Calmnefs and great Readi
neſs, even under Doubt, Sufpicion, and Uncertainty of what will follow.
There may be many Cafes, where a nice and curious Search after Caufes and
Reaſons for ſuch and fuch Proceedings, may not be half ſo uſeful, commendable
1
and
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
293
and convenient, as an implicit Truft, and ready Compliance: No doubt but
Sarah had this Confidence in Abraham, and therefore readily forfook her Coun-
try, and her Kindred, and her Father's Houſe, to follow him into a Land God was
to fhew him. Another Inſtance of her mighty Patience and Submiffion, was the
yielding up her only Son to the Diſpoſal of his Father, who was commanded, and
refolved to offer him up a Sacrifice; not yielding him without the greateſt Sorrow
and Reluctance in the World, but yielding him, notwithſtanding them. The
Child of fo many Promiſes on God's part, and fo much Expectation and Defire on
her's, and the only Child of her old Age, muſt needs be dear beyond Expreffion:
And where is the Mother in the World, that would believe her Huſband had receiv-
ed ſo hard and ſtrange a Command from God, as to offer up an innocent and only
fo
Son, or that would yield it to him, were the fo perfwaded? Abraham indeed ac-
counted God was able to raiſe him up, even from the Dead; and therefore might
offer him up with more Content, and leſs Reluctance, becauſe he knew that God
had promiſed, that in Ifaac ſhould his Seed be called; and therefore Ifaac muſt be
raiſed again, though from the Dead, to make the Promiſe good : But whether this
was Sarah's Faith, does not appear; her Heart, moft probably, was not ſupported
by fuch Hope, but left to ftruggle with thoſe Difficulties, that tender Mothers only
can be fenfible of, on fuch Occafions.
The infolent Behaviour of her Maid, under the Favour of her Huſband, might
have afforded her another Opportunity of exercifing her Patience, and ſhewing a meek
and quiet Spirit; but ſhe was not quite fo exemplary there; but uſed her cruelly and
hardly, and drove her to extremity, which was not of a Piece with that unufual
Part that ſhe had played, in offering up her Servant to her Huſband's Bed. But I
intend to make no other uſe of her Example in this Cafe, than to take occafion from
it, to confider how a Woman is obliged to behave her felf, when ſhe is fure her Huf-
band wanders from her Bed, (a Cafe that happens much too commonly) how far
ſhe is concerned to exerciſe a meek and quiet Spirit, on fuch Falfhood and ill Ufage.
Some of the ancient Chriftians, and of the moſt confiderable, were of the Opinion,
that it was utterly unlawful for either a Man or Woman to cohabit with each
other, notoriouſly falfe. It is indeed faid, Deut. 24. 4. that if a Man put away his
Wife, be may not take her again, after he is defiled: And if this Reaſon hold good, it
will follow as well, that if ſhe have committed Adultery, ſhe may not be en-
tertained; becauſe, in this Cafe, ſhe is much more defiled, than one divorced is by
a fecond Marriage. But in anſwer to this, it is to be obſerved, that when it pleaſes
God to give a Reaſon for his Commands, the Commands can oblige no farther,
than the Reaſon carries them, any other People, but thoſe to whom the Commands
are particularly given: This Command would have obliged the Jews, without the
Reaſon annexed to it; but this Command obliges no one elfe any farther than
this Reaſon will oblige them, which is very little or nothing: It is very viſible that
the Reafon obliges no one without the Command, and therefore only thoſe to whom
the Command is given, and therefore Jews alone were tied by it: But neither is it the
fame Cafe, for a Man to keep a falſe Adulterefs, without ever parting from her, and to
take her to Wife again, after ſhe has been once divorced and married to another, from
whom he is again freed, either by Death, or by Divorce. Neither is that Infer-
ence good, that a Man muſt not live and cohabit with an Adultereſs Wife, becauſe
ſhe was adjudged by the Law to be ſtoned to Death. For tho', if ſhe were legally con-
victed of Adultery, fhe was to die; yet the Huſband was not at all obliged to
profecute her, or to accufe her: He was at liberty to conceal her Shame, and to for-
give her Treſpaſs, if he pleaſed; or he might put her away privately, as Jofeph
intended to do with the moſt pure and ſpotless Virgin Mother. As for the Folly,
Scandal,
2 H h
294
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
Scandal, or Indecency of fo cohabiting together, they are Confiderations that may
make it accidentally, and fometimes unlawful fo to live together: But there is no
divine Command, nor any natural Turpitude or Uncleanneſs in it, that may fhew
it unlawful for the faithful and innocent Party ftill to continue with the falſe and
guilty one. It muft needs be lawful for the innocent and injured, to be patient
and forgive, to love and live with, if they can or will, thofe that have wronged
them. And if this be true of Men, with reſpect to faithlefs Women, it is certainly
true of Women, with refpect to falfe adulterous Hufbands; they are undoubtedly at
Liberty, by the Laws of God, to live and cohabit with them: But as they are at
Liberty to do this if they will, fo are they at Liberty, by the Reafon of God's Law,
to forbear all Commerce with them; the Band that tied them is diffolved and bro-
ken; and the Huſband, without her Confent, has in that kind no farther right to
her. The innocent Wife is neither bound to forfake her adulterous Huſband, nor
bound ſo to continue with him; he hath fet her free, and the is at her Liberty to
do as fhe will. But yet this Liberty is neither to be humourfome nor lafting; if the
again cohabit with her Huſband, and live with him as fhe was wont, he is pre-
fumed to have forgiven his Sin, and to have agreed with him; his former Trefpafs
will not be a juft Occafion for her leaving him, when the thinks fit; but new
Tranfgreffions, give her new Liberty: She may endure his Falfhood as long as ſhe
pleaſes, but ſhe is not obliged to endure it for ever. Here therefore is room for her
Religion and Diſcretion to fhew themſelves: She is undoubtedly obliged to procure
the Converfion of her Husband from his evil Ways, by all the Methods the can
take, likely and apt to compafs it; but fhe is not obliged to hurt herself, for nis
fake. If, by her foft and gentle Admonitions, or if by ſharp and quick Reproaches,
fhe can bring him to a Senfe of his ungrateful and injurious Ufage, and occafion
his Repentance and Amendment, they will be either of them well beftowed; and
The will be obliged to try them. If it be probable, that the Reproofs of wife and
ſhe
fober People, either fpiritual Guides or grave Relations, will prevail to his Converfion,
The muſt endeavour it, with all the Secrecy and Ten le nefs imaginable; ſhe muſt
not fuffer Sin, when the can easily remove it; and Love and true Concern will
make her very diligent, and very willing to effect fo. good a Work. But if the be
as probably affured that the Man is of churliſh Nabal's Humour (as too many Huf-
bands are) fuch a Son of Belial, that he cannot be ſpoken to ; but the very Difco
very of his wicked Folly will make him impudent and ſhameleſs, and harden him
in his Sin; or if it will, in likelihood, provoke him to uſe her cruelly, as fome of
brutal Tempers are inclined to do, and cauſe her to live unhappily the reft of her
Time with him, ſhe is not, in that Cafe, obliged to endeavour to reclaim him; for
no Man is prefumed fo ignorant of his Duty, as not to know he muſt not violate
the Marriage Bed, and therefore there's no need of her teaching him that: And fince
it is the Hope alone of reclaiming a wandring Huſband, that can make fuch an
Attempt reaſonable and convenient, and that fuch Hope is vain in the before-fup-
poſed Cafes, there lies no Obligation on the Woman to attempt it: She is then at
Liberty to confult her Peace and Quiet, her Eaſe and Happineſs in the beſt man-
ner ſhe can think on. If the take care that her Connivance, or diffembled Igno-
rance, her Compliance and Cohabitation, her Silence, or her Patience and Sub-
miffion; if the take care that none of thefe give any Countenance or Encourage-
ment to her unkind and wicked Partner, to continue on and profecute his unlawful
Love, ſhe is without Blame; he is not obliged to make herſelf miſerable by any
Act of her own, but to live as ecly as fhe can in that Condition.
The Connivance of a Wife at the ftolen Pleaſures of her Huſband, will hardly
be looked upon as countenancing Sin, or any other than an Act of ftrong Neceffity,
and
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
1
295
and to avoid fome greater Evil: The Prefumption will be always on their Side, that
that they will never eafily endure a Rival in the Affection of their Huſbands, if
they could remove her. Sarah indeed, before the Birth of Ifaac, out of a ſtrong
Defire of ſeeing the Child born, that was promiſed to Abraham with ſo great Pro-
ſpect of Felicity and Bleffing, gave him her Handmaid Hagar; but in this fhe has
been almoſt fingular; and of this, it feems, ſhe foon herſelf repented, and returned
to the true Wife again. In a Word, a Wife may very innocently permit what ſhe
cannot prevent or hinder; and, by fuch Permiffion, keep Poffeffion of her Rights,
and defend herſelf from Wrongs: She may endure her Huſband's open Falfhood
and Adultery, without any Sin or Blame on her Part, if the cannot hinder him;
and, by this Sufferance and Compliance, (not confenting or agreeing to his Sin) may
lawfully enjoy all the Eafe and Advantage fuch Cohabitation can afford her, and
avoid all the Miſchiefs and Afflictions that would attend and follow a Separation :
Neither Religion nor Difcretion prohibit an innocent and virtuous Woman, the
living with a falfe and wicked Hufband.
And when the Women find themſelves in fuch Condition, that Separation would
undo them quite, or make them at leaſt extreamly miferable (which is the Cafe
of moft) as they have truly all the need imaginable of a meek and quiet Spirit, fo
nothing in the World can ſtand them in better ſtead. When Injuries fo quick as
this, and Provocations of this Nature fall upon a violent and hafty Diſpoſition;
they generally make an everlaſting Breach, cut off all hope of Reconcilement, and
ftop the Way, fometimes, to true Repentance, which mild and prudent Manage-
ment might have effected. Nothing fo wins upon the obftinate, and melts the firm-
eſt, moſt obdurate Minds, like foft and gentle Ufage; even Silence, when it fhews
Submiffion, and not Sullennefs, is apter to perfwade, than angry Arguments pro-
duced in Oppofition. All Men love Power and Superiority, and a meek and quiet
Spirit ſeems to yield it to them, even when it takes it from them, and difarms them:
Difpute begets. Difpute, and Oppofition Oppofition; but Silence and Submiffion van-
quifh without Fighting or Refiftance. There is an unaccountable Force in Meek-
nefs, Patience, and Forbearance; they cut off all Reply, remove all Matter of Con-
tention, and leave Men to confider with themſelves the Injuries they have done:
They excite in Men a Senfe of Shame, and Gratitude, and Honour, and furniſh
them with all the Arguments that can be thought upon, and urge them in the
Favour of the Innocent. There is nothing, in a Word, fo likely to prevail upon a
falſe Huſband, as a meek and quiet Spirit, a patient and diſcreet Submiffion under
thoſe heavy Injuries. And if it is fo likely to fucceed in this great Matter, it will
certainly be of huge Ufe in all the lefs Concerns of Life: There is, indeed, no
living for a Wife, without a tolerable Portion of this meek and quiet Spirit. The
Folly, and the Wickedneſs of Men, and the perverſe unlucky Accidents, that are ſo
frequent in the Courſe of Affairs, do furniſh ſo many Occafions for the Exerciſe
of Patience and Submiffion, that ſhe can never think to live with any Peace or
Comfort, that will not prepare herſelf againſt them.
St. Peter uſes, moreover, the Example of Sarah, in calling her Huſband Lord,
to teach the Women to profefs their Subjection, and acknowledge the Superiority of
their Huſbands: The ufing civil and reſpectful Terms, is what becomes all People,
and Wives eſpecially; but what they are, depends upon Cuſtom and Agreement, and
of themſelves they are of little Value; where Love and true Refpect do not produce
them, they are only decent and of good Example: And becauſe that Anger and
Impatience do ufually occafion hard Terms and unbecoming Language, her giving
of her Huſband ſoft refpectful Titles, may intimate her to be of a meek and quiet
Spirit, which keeps People, we fee, within the Bounds of Decency, and always gives
good
296
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
good Words, there being hardly any furer Sign of any one's loofing their Temper,
than their flying out into Paffion, and giving hard Language.
Theſe are ſome of the Ufes that Wives may make of Sarah's Example: And to
diſpoſe them to the getting a meek and quiet Spirit the fooner, the Apoſtle ſays it
is an Ornament; which is the next Thing to be confidered, in a Word or two. The
Uſe of Ornaments is to ſet the Wearer off to advantage, and recommend them to
the Favour and Eſteem of ſuch as fee them; it is fomething that becomes them
in the Judgment of other People: And in all theſe Senſes, a meek and quiet Spi-
rit is a great Ornament to Wives; it fets them off to great advantage, and recom-
mends them to the Favour and Efteem of all that know them, and converſe with
them, and does moft fenfibly engage the Affections of their Husbands; and it is
that which becomes them in the Opinion of all wife and good and virtuous Peo-
ple; it is truly a Beauty of the Mind, and pleaſes all that fee it.
It is often ſeen, that all the Things, that Wives intend for Ornaments, are ill-placed,
and give them neither Grace nor Comeliness, whether they be of Gold, or Silver, or
Embroideries, or other Things, never fo rare or coftly: Whereas this good and
gentle Temper, this meek and quiet Spirit, never fails of giving Favour and Accept-
ance; it pleaſes People when they are wife and fober, grave and thoughtful, and
confider beft; it captivates the Judgment: Whereas the reft depend upon a light and
giddy Fancy.
But, lastly, and to crown all, it is in the Sight of God of great Price. It is Coft-
liness, it feems, that makes all outward Ornaments efteemed and valued; and if
they are of great Price, they think them more becoming, and find themſelves the
more refpected for them: By a Train of idle Confequences, Folks come to make
theſe vain Conclufions; and it is better to yield them than difpute them: The Apo-
ftle ſeems inclined to make good Uſe of ſuch a Fancy, and hopes to recommend
a meek and quiet Spirit, by telling them that it is of great Price, highly eſteemed
by God: And certainly he is the wifeft and fitteft Judge of what is proper and be-
coming all his Creatures; and if his Creatures underſtand their Intereſt, they will,
of all Things in the World, endeavour to recommend therufelves to his Good-liking
and Eſteem. The Beauty and the Comelineſs, that all the Coft and Ornaments in
Nature can afford, are of no Value when the Show is over: There has been a great
deal of Noiſe and Hurry, Trouble and great Confufion, to little purpoſe: The Plea-
fure refults from the Gaze and Talk of idle, wanton People, whom they fhall hardly
ſee again: who half of them, perhaps, diſlike, what the other half approve and
praife; and if a Fit of Sickness comes, or a few Years ſteal on their Heads, then
all the reft are loft. The Praiſe of Men, on fuch Accounts, is but a poor Temp-
tation, and Reward, for fuch Sollicitude and Care as many of that Sex beftow on
outward Ornaments. Half of it, taken in recommending themſelves to God by
Virtues and good Qualities, would do it moit effectually, and keep them for ever
in his Favour.
But upon what Account is it, that a meek and quiet Spirit ſhould be of great,
Price in the Sight of God? First, Becauſe it is acting according to Reaſon: And,
Secondly, becauſe it is obeying God's Commands. First, It is acting according to
Reafon: Reafon is the Guide that God hath given to every Man to conduct him
in his Courſe of Living; and when they act according to good Reaſon, they
do as they ſhould; they anſwer to the End of their Creation, and that is always
pleaſing to the great Creator; he fees the Work of his Hands profper. Now to
be meek and quiet under Injuries, and hard Uſage, that is not otherwiſe to be
avoided or removed, is acting with Reaſon; it is making the beſt of a bad Buſineſs,
endeavouring to be eafy under their Sufferings; it is doing what People would
willa
Duty of Wives to Husbands.
29
1
wiſh to do, even when they find they cannot: For all Afflictions (we have feen
before) are more or lefs afflicting, as the Mind is more or lefs prepared to bear
them; And therefore Injuries and Croffes, and hard Ufage, are not fo oppreffive to
meek and quiet Spirits, as they are to violent and furious Tempers; and therefore,
it is the wifeft and moſt reaſonable Thing that Folks can do, to be as calm and
gentle as they can, to break the Force of their Misfortunes by Patience and Sub-
miffion. The wild Birds beat themfelves almoft to pieces, in the fame Cage, where
tame ones fit and fing; and yet the Priſon is the fame, one is as near to Liberty as the
other. The Wives, that have the hardeſt Fortune, ſeldom mend it by Contention,
Clamour and Impatience; they often lay new Miſeries upon themfelves by fuch a
Management; whereas a gentle foft Forbearance gives at leaft no new Provocation
to farther ill Uſage, and bears the old with leſs Difficulty: It is the Wiſdom of
every Wife to get this meek and quiet Spirit, in order to her Eafe and Happineſs;
and upon that account it is alfo commanded them by God: For God, defigning
nothing but the Happineſs of all his Creatures, commands them every Thing that
may procure it; and every thing that he commands, has certainly fome Tenden-
cy that way, and would, if rightly purfued, conduce to it: This is plain of a meek
and quiet Spirit. As the Affairs of this World are managed, and as Men govern
themſelves, there will be fo many accidental and undefigned Provocations to Anger
and Impatience, that People would be extreamly miſerable, if God did not injoin
them, by all Means, to fit their Minds againſt them, to bear them quietly and
meekly when they came: And therefore it is in Kindneſs to us, that he lays theſe
Laws and Commands upon us: And becauſe he is delighted in our Benefit, and
Eaſe and Happineſs, therefore he is delighted with our Compliance and Obedience ;
and therefore a meek and quiet Spirit is, in his Sight, of great Price: The hap-
pier our Obedience to him makes us, the more delighted God is with it; it is
by fo much the more acceptable to him.
But neither does his Goodneſs and Benignity end here; his Aim is alfo our
eternal Good; the happier our Obedience to his Commands makes us in this World,
the happier it will alfo make us in the World to come. The Commands that
carry their Reward with them, whilſt we obey them here, have alſo a Reward
annexed by Promiſe to them, in the other Life: And therefore, there is ftill the
more Encouragement to fet about our Duty in theſe Matters. A meek and quiet
Spirit does not only pay itſelf better than moſt good Qualities befides, whilft it is
exerciſed; but fince it is in the Sight of God of great Price, it will undoubtedly
be amply recompenced with everlaſting Peace and Reft, and Quiet in the World
to come.
DISCOURSE XII.
COLOSSIANS III. VERSE 19.
Husbands Love your Wives, and be not Bitter against them.
Have fhewed you already, in general, that all Duties and Obligations to Love
and Service, of any fort, arife either from the Senfe and Remembrance of Be-
nefits and Favours paſt, and already received; or from the Hope and reaſona-
ble Expectation of Benefits and Favours to come, and to be received; and that
this is the Foundation and Bottom of our Obligation to pray to, or to praiſe even
2 li
God
298
Wives.
Duty of Husbands to
God himself; for it is for Bleffings only that we praife and pray to him: So that
the great Creator has no other Right or Title to the Love, or Honour, Worship, or
the Service of his Creature, than what his Benefits or Favours, bestowed and 'pro-
mifed, give him; It is for our Creation, Prefervation, and all the Bleffings of this
Life, and for the Hopes and Promiſes of another, that we are bound to blefs and
worship God. Our Duty to him is not founded on his inward Excellence, his glo-
rious and adorable Perfections; but on his Mercy and Benignity, his Goodneſs and
his Loving-kindneſs fhewn on all Occafions to us, and evermore expected by us:
We love God, because he first loved us, and gave his only begotten Son for us.
And if this be the Cafe of the Relation betwixt the Creator and his Creature, it
is certainly more fo in the Relations, one Creature has to another. It is impoffible for
one of them, to have any Obligation to another, either to fhew Love or to do Ser-
vice, but it muſt arife either from Gratitude, and Thankfulnefs for fomething good
received, or from the Hope and Profpect of fomething good to be received. Al
Duties of Mankind do therefore mutually infer one another: The Duty of a Sub-
ject to his Prince does certainly infer the Prince's Duty to his Subject, ſomething i. e.
he owes his Subject, call it what, or how you will: he muft lay fome Obligation or
other on him, or he can ask no. Duty from him; it is for the fake of what one gives,
that the other is obliged to give. Thus I have fhewn it is in the Relation of Parent
and Child; there is an Obligation laid by one, as the Foundation of the other's
Duty; and though thefe Duties are made Duties by Command of God, yet they are
truly Duties in Nature, and Reaſon, antecedently to any Laws or Commands of
God: They are therefore inforced by God's Commands, becauſe they are in them-
ſelves ſo reaſonable and fit, and fo neceffarily to be obferved for the good and quiet
of Mankind. God has laid no Obligations on any one to love and ſerve another,
but for the fake of fomething equivalent to be received at the other's Hands, all
Things confidered and put together. And indeed, there is no Relation commanded
by God to diſcharge its Duty to its Correlative, but has its Correlative commanded
to diſcharge its, Duty on the other hand: Princes are as much obliged to difcharge
their Office to Subjects, as. Subjects are to their Princes; and Parents are obliged as
certainly to do their Part and Office to their Children, as Children to their Parents :
The Duty of Princes and Parents is different from the Duty of Children. and Sub-
jects, no doubt; but the Duty of one is as much a Duty, as is that of the other.
And fince each Party is by Nature and Reafon equally obliged to perform its Duty,
and equally commanded by God fo to do; 'tis not eafy to fee, how one fide comes
to look for and expect the Performance of Duty from the other, without diſcharging
its own part: But yet this is the Cafe moſt commonly of that fide, that accounts it
felf, and is with Reafon enough accounted by others, the Superiour fide. Thus
Princes, Parents, Maſters, and Governours remember only the Reaſons, and Com-
mands, that give them Power and Authority, and that exact Obedience, Love and
Service to them; without remembering the Reaſon and Commands that oblige
themſelves to diſcharge their feveral Obligations to their Subjects, Children, and
their Servants, the very Reaſon and Bottom of the others Duty; and oftentimes
diſpence with themſelves againſt both Reaſon and Command, yet think it very hard
and unjuſt, that their Correlatives ſhould, at any time,, relax of their Performance
of their ſeveral Duties. And thus it is too frequently with many Huſbands, who
are full of Dominion, morofely Imperious, and fometimes Cruel and Tyrannical;
ever remembring the Submiffion, Duty, Honour and Obedience, that their Wives are
tied by Reafon and God's Command to pay them; but feldem or never thinking of
what they owe, themſelves, to thoſe their Wives, by the fame Reafon and God's
Commands. St. Paul here makes no difference; but having faid, in Werfe 18. Wives
Submit
Duty of t
290
Husbands to Wives:
+
ſubmit yourſelves to your own Hufbands, as is fit in the Lord; he adds immediately in
Ver. 19. in the Words of the Text, Hufbands Love your Wives, and be not Bitter a-
gainst them. Leaving it as much a Duty on the Hufbands to Love their Wives, as
on the Wives to fubmit themfelves to their own Hufbands: And indeed it is ſo well.
and wifely ordered by God Almighty, that whofoever obeys his Commands, in dif
charging the Duty of his Relation, does thereby make the fureft and the readieſt
Way to the receiving what is due to him from his Correlative. A good Prince is
the most likely to find good and obedient Subjects; and good obedient Subjects
will most likely engage a Prince to fhew himſelf good and affectionate, and care-
ful of his Subjects: And fo the good and careful Parents and Mafters are the moft
likely to make or find the most obedient, diligent and faithful Children and Ser-
vants : And dutiful obedient Children are the moft likely to fecure the Care and
Affection of Parents to them; and the moft diligent and honeft Servants are the
moſt likely to find their Mafters kindeft, and moſt careful of them; fo that by dif
charging every one his Duty, the World in general would be happy, and each Par-
ticular be eafy in their Station and Relation. And this is alfo the Bottom of that
common Saying, which is alfo true and reaſonable, that good Hufbands make
good Wives, and good Wives good Hufbands, i. e. there is nothing fo likely to
engage one Partner to perform his Duty, as the others performing his. There is no
readier way for Huſbands to have good Wives, affectionate, obedient, careful and
faithful, than by following the Dictates of Reafon, as well as the Commands of
God, to Love them, and not be Bitter against them. We have therefore, in the firft
Place, to fee, what is understood by Husbands Loving their Wives; and, in the
fecond, what it is, not to be Bitter against them.
There is a Love peculiar to every Relation, that a Man can ftand in by Nature,
or can contract by Choice, and it is truly diftinct from every other Affection. Thus
there is a Love of Honour and Efteem due to Virtue, Excellence and Perfection ;
and this is commonly the Love we pay to Princes, great and brave People of all
forts, and commonly our Superiours. There is alſo a Love of Friendſhip due to
Merit and good Qualities, either real or imagined, generally paid to our Equals.
There is alfo a Love of natural Relations, different from the reft, and which grows
up with us, infenfibly, from our Infancy. And the mutual Love of Marriage is
diftinct from all the reft; and therefore when People are called upon to Love, they'
are called upon to pay that Affection that is peculiar to the Relation they ftand in
to ſuch a Party. Now the Love of Huſbands to their Wives, is chiefly ſeen in theſe
three Things. First, in being kindly affectioned to their Perfons: Secondly, in
being faithful to their Vows: And Thirdly, in taking Care of, and making all due
Provifion for them.
First, It is feen in being kindly affectioned to their Perfons. This indeed is what
is fo properly called Love, that nothing befides is thought fo; and it is fo effentially
neceffary to the making Marriage eafy and happy, that nothing elfe can do it:
And where Men marry without liking of the Perfon of their Wives, if they do
not intend to be miſerable themſelves, yet they may reafonably be prefumed to in-
tend to make their Wives fo, becauſe it is the likelieft thing in the World to make
them fo; and there are very few Women in the World, that would, upon fuch Sup-
pofal, marry; becauſe they know, that tho' a Liking of their Perfon will not o
it felf make them happy, yet, that without it nothing elſe will. It is certain that
Religion, Virtue, and Diſcretion, and good Qualities, and Birth, and Education,
and Fortune, and Eftate, are all to be confidered, in their feveral Meaſures and
Degrees, to make a married Life truly and laftingly happy; but yet, without a
Love and Liking of the Perfon, there will be no fuch thing as true and lafting Hap-
pineſs
3.00
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
pineſs: All the other things will not effect this End, unleſs this alſo be added to
them; they will make Men civil, and of good Behaviour; and confequently the
Wives fhall not be cruelly and brutally uſed; they fhall not be miferable, nor
pitiable to Strangers and Standers-by; but they ſhall not find themſelves happy for
all that. It is not Honour, and Reſpect, and perhaps Efteem, that will make the
Wives happy; but a Tenderneſs of Affection, which they had rather have, than all
things elfe; and without which, the reſt are vain Formality, and an infipid Court-
ſhip, a Sacrifice without a Heart, and mere Hypocrify.
Virtue, good Qualities, and the other Confiderations above-mentioned, are not
only very defirable, and of great Service, in themſelves; but are alfo
very uſeful,
as they recommend the Perfon to Favour and Acceptance; and if they do not that,
they contribute little to making the married Life happy; they help to make it not fo
miferable, as it would be without them, but of themſelves they never make it happy.
I would not, by all this, be underſtood to recommend a Face or Shape, or
Mien and Figure; or fay, that no Man ought to marry without Form or Beauty;
but underſtood to fay, that no Man ought to marry, where fomething or other does
not recommend the Perfon to his Liking and Acceptance; becauſe, without this
Liking and Affection, he will never make his Partner happy, nor himſelf; which
he is certainly obliged to do, as much as in him lies. God hath not tied Men to
Reaſon ſtrictly in theſe Matters, nor to fhew a found unerring Judgment in their
Choices; theſe Affections are under the Dominion of the Fancy, and the Choice is
innocently governed and directed by Imagination; and whatever any Man thinks beau-
tiful and comely, graceful and taking, is certainly fo to him, whatever it is to other
People. There is fomething moft divinely wife in this Contrivance and Diſpoſal,
by which a World of Miſchief and Confufion is avoided, that would undoubtedly
ariſe on theſe Occaſions, but for this great Variety and Strength of Fancy and Ima-
gination, by which Men fee at firſt, and are ftill held on ſeeing, and are pleaſed
with Beauties, and good Qualities,, that are not ſo well diſcerned by others, nor ac-
ceptable to them. Uſeful are all the Faculties that God hath given us; even thoſe
that often cheat us, fometimes do us Service. Whoever therefore marries, without
this fanciful Affection in fome Degree and Meaſure, can never make his Partner
happy; becauſe it is that in which the chiefly places her Happineſs, and without
which ſhe does not find herſelf happy; and after all that can be ſaid, no one is,
or can be happy in this World, but they who think, and find themſelves to be fo.
Few Women are ſo weak as to think they can be happy with the Affection of the
Mind only; but they all of them know, that where that is wanting, all befides is mere
Shew and Appearance of Eaſe and Happineſs: They know that Wealth and Eſtate
gives them not quiet and contented Minds; and they know that Religion, Virtue,
and Diſcretion, and a World of good Qualities are loſt and infignificant, where the
Affection of Perſon does not recommend and ſet them off: Sometimes they are not
ſeen at all, nor any Complacence taken in them, where the Party that exercifes
them is not acceptable, or finds no Favour in the other's Eyes: So that it comes to
país, that many Men are counted happy, and might indeed be ſo in the good Qua-
lities, and Virtue, and Difcretion of their Partners, who yet are otherwiſe, for want
of this Affection of the Heart, through which the rest are loft, and undiſcerned,
and which (if there) would make them both happy: This Affection will fupply
many Defects, and make amends for many Failings; this will cover many Faults,
and make a World of Evils and domeſtick Inconveniencies lighter and eafier: So
that, in Kindneſs to himſelf, a Man of Wiſdom and Diſcretion will be careful ne-
ver to marry where he cannot literally comply with God's Commands to Huſbands,
to Love their Wives.
}
The
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
301
The Love of every other Relation may be exerciſed and ſhewn in kind and pro
per Effects, without this inward and fincere Affection to the Perfon : as that of Pa-
rents to their Children, and Children to their Parents; Brothers and Sifters to each
other; Friends and Neighbours, and Acquaintance, Maſters and Servants, Superiours
and Inferiours; each may diſcharge their feveral Duties to each the other, in Acts
of Kindneſs becoming, and required of their Relation; and yet, through fome Mif-
fortune and Miftake, Difguft and Provocation, may not truly love their Perfons,
and that, as it may happen, without Blame, and Things may ftill go on fairly
and decently on either hand: But this Relation calls for Perfonal Love and Tender-
neſs, and is not fatisfied with all the Expreffions and Effects of Love and Kindneſs
that can be ſhewed, but muſt be fecure both of the Heart and Principle, or elſe
it languiſhes and dies. In a Word, it is a vain Thing for any Man to marry with
Hopes of being Happy and at Eaſe himſelf, or making his Partner fo, without fome
liking of her Perfon; and therefore they, who look upon this Matter as Religious,
and intend to lead a virtuous and a fober Life, will never fuffer any, or all the
Confiderations in the World, to induce them to marry, where there is any fort of
Averſion, or great Indifference to a Perſon, or where, at leaſt, there is not great
probability of loving.
The Peace and Acquiefcence of the Mind is certainly to be preferred to all other
Confiderations whatever, as being indeed the End of all the Labours and Purſuits
of Life; every Thing we endeavour, or do, being in order (we intend and hope)
to the attaining Quiet and Content. Now this a Man can hardly have, that is not
eafy at his own home; and that a Man can never be, that lives in conſtant view
of an unacceptable Object, and converſes with one whom he either hates, or deſpiſes,
And it is a huge Miſtake to think, that either Portion or Alliance, or any other
fuch Convenience, will make Men Compenfation and Amends, and give that Eaſe
and Quiet which mutual Love and Tenderneſs will give. All thoſe Conveniencies
can only furniſh out a better Table, more Attendance, and finer Garb: Whereas
both Men and Women find they are, and can be very miſerable and diſcontented
in the midſt of all fuch Plenty, whilſt they are ſure that, in the mean Time, they
want that Kindneſs and Affection of Heart, that only makes a great Fortune
eaſy and uſeful to them, and that would make a meaner Fortune reliſh much
better.
Confidering therefore, how much the Peace and Happineſs of a Man's whole
Life depends upon his Choice, he can neither anſwer it to God, nor Man, nor to
himſelf, that marries where he does not, or cannot Love. And therefore, fince a
Man is commanded by God to love his Wife, and that he cannot love where and
when he pleaſes, he muſt needs be underſtood to be commanded, Firſt, Not to
enter upon Marriage, where he does not Love: And, Secondly, when he is married,
to continue his Love, and take all Courſes that are proper to confirm and ſtrengthen
that Affection, and to avoid all manner of Occafions that may weaken and decay
it in his Mind.
First, A Man is certainly obliged by God's Command to love his Wife; and be-
cauſe this is not to be done whenever a Man pleaſes, he is therefore obliged not to
enter upon Marriage where he does not Love: A Man is not obliged we know, to
marry, but he is obliged to love when married; and fince that can hardly be, if
he does not Love before, he is certainly obliged not to marry, if he cannot Love,
It may not be reaſonable for a Man to enter upon fuch or fuch an Office; but it is
very reaſonable he ſhould not enter on it, with an utter Incapacity of diſcharging it
as he ought. And therefore, the contracting of Children, young and uncapable of
knowing what themſelves and Partners are, or ſhall be; and ſetting the Years of
Confent
2 K k
302
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
Conſent very forward to each Party, whatever other good Ends it may ferve, or
prevent Evil, yet it is certainly of evil Confequence with reſpect to the Peace and
Happineſs of the fucceeding Life, if Love and mutual Liking do not follow. That
Practice aims moſt commonly at fecuring an Eſtate and Fortune: But it were bet-
ter, generally, if let alone; becauſe the attaining of that End is not the principal
and beſt Deſign of Marriage, but fomething in order to it: It will make thofe,
who are already at eaſe, much eaſier; but it will not give Agreement, Union of
Affection, Eafe and Satisfaction of Mind, which is to be the Bottom and Founda-
tion of Peoples Happineſs: Upon this Account it is alſo probable, that ſo many
People of great Degree and Rank are made miſerable, and more miferable than
their Inferiours, by their imprudent Choices. Refpect is generally had to nothing
but Birth and Quality, to Fortune and Alliance, without regard to Perſon, Shape and
Figure, to Virtue and good Qualities, and other Endowments proper to engage and
hold the Affections: And hence they become fplendidly and exemplarily unhappy,
as if it were the Sport of Fortune to level all Mankind; and, by fome odd Diſaſter,
or their own Folly, to reduce the greateſt People to an Equality of Mifery and Trou-
ble with their Inferiours; that all the World might be alike happy, all Things con-
fidered and compared together.
There can, indeed, no good be reaſonably expected, where Affection does not firſt
engage, before Religion ties the married Pair together. A Chriftian, truly, cannot,
with a good Confcience, nor with common Honefty and Truth, make ſuch a folemn
Promiſe of Affection, as the Form of Marriage calls for and requires, when he is
Conſcious to himſelf that he has nothing of it in his Heart; but finds, it may be,
an Averſion and Diſlike, but yet goes on for other Reaſons and Confiderations: He
cannot anſwer it to God; for he is then deceiving, and, it may be, ruining one,
whom at that Time he ſeriouſly profeffes, before God, that he will Love, and make
as happy as he can. There are, in a Word, a thouſand Reaſons why every Man
ſhould take all heed of marrying where he finds he cannot Love; and none at all
againſt ſuch Caution: And therefore, fome Parents would do well to confider feri-
ouſly, before they prefs their Commands too cloſely on their Children, to marry
where there is no likelihood of loving, or of being beloved. They have a great Au-
thority, no doubt, in theſe Affairs, (as I have fhewn you already, at large, in treat-
ing of the Filial and Parental Duties) but no one has Authority enough to make
an innocent Party miferable; and if a Parent had, he would undoubtedly forego it.
And therefore, it is not good to be over-rigorous, where it may reaſonably be thought
the Childrens Refufal proceeds from fome unaccountable Difguft, or an incurable
Averfion. The Parent may confider, that, in fuch a Cafe, the Obedience and Com-
pliance of a Child may make her much more miferable, than Difobedience and Re-
fufal would make her faulty; but when a Man is at his Liberty, and under no
Conftraint, for him to marry without Love, is inexcufable. From all which, it ap-
pears exceeding plain, that, for Hufbands to comply with God's Commands, and
St. Paul's Advice, to love their Wives, it is abfolutely neceffary that they make fuch
Choice as may engage their Affection: And that they never marry where they can-
not like, for any wordly Intereft whatſoever.
But to comply with this Command, it is not enough to chooſe at firſt, where Men
can like for they are alfo bound to continue this their Love to their Lives End;
i. e. as long as they are Huſbands; and therefore they must needs be obliged to
take fuch Courſes as are proper to confirm and ftrengthen their Affection, and to
avoid all Manner of Occafions that may wear it out, or weaken it. Some of the
ancient Chriſtians (as we have feen) would allow the Wives to employ more Art
and Coft in decking and adorning of themſelves, than other fingle Women; be-
caufe
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
303
becauſe they judged it abfolutely neceffary to the Peace and Happiness of their Lives,
to preferve and fecure to themſelves the Affections of their Hufbands, and therefore
indulged that to them, which they denied to others: And it is no lefs neceffary, to
the fecuring this their Peace and Happineſs, that Men fhould take more care than
ordinary, ftill to continue their Affection to them; and ſhould not ſuffer Errors and
Miſtakes, Mifcarriages and light Offences, Infirmities and heedlefs Indifcretions, or
the like, to alienate their Hearts from them, or give them a flight and deſpicable
Opinion of them; for that will quickly grow to Coldneſs and Indifference towards
them, and then they are not far from perſonal Diſlike, and an Averfion, although
fecret.
ny
·
They who cannot bear with many Failings and Defects, and make a great ma-
Allowances, are not well fitted for Society and Friendſhip, even at large, and
much leſs for Society fo conftant and continued, as the married State requires
And therefore, if Men will not confider with themſelves the Imperfections of hu-
man Nature; if they will not remember their own Miſtakes and Miſcarriages; if
they will be unreaſonable, and take Advantages, and make ill-natured Obfervations
and Reflections on the Follies and Weakneffes of their Partners, and treaſure them
up in Memory, and referve them to feed their ill Humour, and make them Oc-
cafions of Diſtaſte, and Topicks of Upbraidings and unſeerly Revilings; they will
quickly fee an end of Peace and Quietnefs, and find their Affection cool and lan-
guiſh. When once Men fall into this Perverfneſs, and take any Eafe in entertaining
fuch Surmifes and Conceits, as will (although infenfibly) beget a cheap and vile
Opinion of them, they have laid the Foundation of future Difcontent and Difcord,
and are in Readineſs and Difpofition for Averfion and Hate to follow; and then the
greateſt Care and Circumfpection, the moft obfervant and difcreet Behaviour of the
Women, is not able to regain their good Opinion and Eſteem. When once the
Heart is cold, or alienated and eſtranged, it is a Work of mighty Difficulty to
bring it on again, and warm it into new Affection: And therefore every thing, that
tends to fuch eſtranging of it, is to be carefully avoided by all that would themſelves
be eafy, and make their Partners fo alſo.
The Women are prefumed, becauſe it is fo much their Intereft, as well as Duty,
to attend this Matter carefully, to preferve the Affection and Eſteem of their Huf-
bands, by all the fair and virtuous Methods they can take, but that will not fuffice,
unleſs the Men will make it eaſy to them by Prudence and Good-nature: They muſt
be always difpofed to think well of, and take in good Part, the Endeavours of the
others; for it is not enough, that a Thing be well done, unleſs it be alſo well taken :
Without this Confideration and Goodneſs of Difpofition, there would be no fuch
thing as Love and mutual Kindneſs: For all Creatures are Imperfect, and ſtand in
need of Patience and Forgiveneſs at one another's Hands: And in a conftant Con-
verſation, and the Management of many and various Family Affairs, there will un-
avoidably ariſe many Occafions of Difagreement, and Diſtaſte; and if, on both Sides,
there be not a Readineſs to make the kindeft Conftruction of each other's Actions,
to believe the beſt; and lay the Faults upon unlucky Accidents, and difregard a great
many Inconveniencies, and paſs them over patiently and gently, the conjugal Affec-
tion will be quickly loft; for it only lives by kind Forbearance, mutual Condefcen-
fion, and a good Efteem of each the other.
And when a Man confiders, that it is his Intereſt and his Eafe, as well as Duty,
to love his Partner, and that he ceaſes to be quiet and happy when he begins to dif-
like, or be averſe to her; he will find it worth his while to take fome Care and Pains
to feed, and to continue his Affection: It will not be thought ſo indifferent a Thing
to like or dislike, even with refpect to this World, that it fhould be a matter of
Humour,
304
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
}
Humour, and not Choice, to be a good Hufband; for it is the wifeſt and moſt
uſeful Thing that he can do, and that which will contribute moſt to his Content
and Quiet; and therefore for his own fake, a tolerably prudent Man, confidering
he can never change it, will make the beſt of his Condition; which will be by ma-
king it moſt eaſy and delightful to them both; fince, in all likelihood, of the many
Millions of married People in the World, a very few are happy and at eaſe, whoſe
Partners are not fo in like meaſure with them.
I have dwelt thus long upon this Subject; becauſe, though it deſerve the moſt ſe-
rious Confideration, yet it ſeldom has it. It would not be out of the Way, to ſay,
that moſt Men in the World (at leaſt in thefe Parts) are happy, or unhappy, ac-
cording to the Choice they make of their Wives. So far at leaſt is certain,
that a bad Choice will trouble all the reft of their Felicities, and hinder Men
from being eafy with them: And therefore, fince it is of fo great Confequence, it
wants, and ought to have a great and fober Deliberation. It is the Means and Me-
thod God hath pitched upon, to continue on the World, till he fees fit to put an End
to it; and tho' he hath implanted in Men fuch Defires as are conducive to the End
he hath deſigned; yet he hath given them Reaſon, Judgment, and Underſtanding
to direct and guide them in their Choice, and to give the Check to their Imagina-
tion in ſome meaſure, and diftinguish them from all inferiour Creatures. They are
not, like thoſe Creatures, at their Liberty to wander up and down as common to the
whole Species; but they muſt fix on one particular and proper Object, and fettle
there: As their firft Father had but one Eve, fo are his Children to content them-
ſelves with fuch like Choice, and there abide till Death ſhall ſet them at their Liberty.
This is the original Appointment of Marriage, even in Paradiſe, when Man was
high in God's Favour.
he
Now, becauſe it is impoffible, were there are two Perfons and two Wills, but
there will be Difpute in Matters of Debate and Doubt, which ſhall be uppermoſt
and fuperiour, God hath decided it, as well by natural Indications, as by pofitive
Commands, that Man fhall reign and govern, and therefore Women are to be obe-
dient and fubmiffive: But in return for this Submiffion and Obedience, Man is
to love his Wife, and to affect her, above all the World. This he is commanded by
God to do; and becauſe it is not in Man's power to love and like whom, and where-
ever he will, he is in Reaſon obliged to marry no where but where he can love;
cannot otherwiſe comply with God's Commands: The Reaſonableneſs and Neceffity
of this, I have been trying to fhew from many great Inconveniencies and grievous
Miſchiefs, that are likely, and do ufually ariſe from marrying otherwiſe, upon mere
worldly Confiderations. Not that many other Things, befides Affection to the
Perfon, are not to be well confidered and fought after; for they are undoubtedly,
and Men without them never will nor can be happy, eſpecially religious Education,
virtuous and difcreet Behaviour, and other good Qualities, as well as Birth and For-
tune: But that all other Confiderations are of little uſe to make a Marriage happy,.
where Affection to the Perfon is found wanting; all Advantages imaginable will
not make a Woman eaſy, where the Affection of the Heart is wanting: And fince
the Wife is to be made as happy as ſhe can by Marriage, a Huſband cannot anſwer
it to God, nor her, nor to himſelf, that marries with Averfion and Diſlike.
And it is yet more reaſonable, that when the Men are married, they ſhould ſtill
continue on their Love; and, in order to that, ſhould take all Courſes to confirm
and ſtrengthen their Affection, and avoid all manner of Occafions that may weaken
and decay it. Becauſe, without this perfonal Love, they will be in great danger of
not continuing true and faithful to their Vows; and of not making fuch Provifion
for them as is fit and reaſonable, which are the other Particulars in which the Love
of Huſbands is required to fhew itſelf, of which, &c.
DISCOURSE
Duty of Husbands to Wives:
305
DISCOURSE XIII
COLOSSIANS III. VERSE 19.
Husbands Love your Wives, and be not Bitter against them.
H
AVING fhewn you, that the Laws of God, enjoyning the Performance.
of fuch and fuch Duties to Parties fo and fo related, are all in Conformity
to right Reaſon and the Laws of Nature; and exact and require no other
Performances than what are neceffary to the fair and due Diſcharge of
all thoſe ſeveral Duties: And that all the feveral Duties of Relations of all forts (none
in the World excepted, no not that between the great Creator and his Creature) do
mutually infer each other, and are therefore due, and paid for the fake of each the
other: And that, in the particular Cafe before us, God having made it firft in Na-
ture and Reaſon, and, afterwards, by pofitive Command, the Duty of Wives to be
fubmiffive, fubject, and obedient to their Husbands, had alſo, first in Nature and Rea-
fon, and after, by exprefs Commands, made it the Duty of Hufbands to love their
Wives. And having fhewn, that the Love of Huſbands to their Wives confifted in
theſe three Particulars: First, In being kindly affectioned to their Perfons. Secondly,
In being faithful to them, in keeping to their Promife and Engagement. And,
Thirdly, In taking Care of, and making all due Provifion for them: I had only
Time to ſpeak to the firft Particular, and to try to fhew the abfolute Neceffity of the
Wife's Perfon being acceptable in the Sight of her Huſband, (let it be upon what
Account it will) and that, without fuch favourable Prepoffeffion, the Man will nei-
ther be himſelf eaſy, nor make his Partner happy as ſhe ſhould be. This I infiſt-
ed on, for a World of Reaſons and Confiderations, fuch as all Men know and feel
the Force of, whether they act against them, or comply with them: And upon this
Account, that Hufbands are commanded to love their Wives, yet have it not in their
Power to love where, and whenever they pleaſe, it is but reaſonable to think, they
are commanded not to marry where there is any fecret Diflike, and much more
where there is any Averfion; becauſe this puts them into an utter Incapacity of
ever diſcharging their Duty, and obeying God's Commands; and moreover, that
when they are married, they are obliged to take all reaſonable and prudent Courſes
to fettle and confirm, and continue in their Love, and carefully to avoid all manner
of Occafions, that may weaken and decay it in their Minds.
To all this I have already ſpoken at large. I am now to go on and confider the
other Particulars, in which the Love of Hufbands is to be fhewn towards their
Wives: And the next is, the being faithful to them, the being true to their En-
gagements, Promiſes, and folemn Vows. This mutual Fidelity is fo effentially necef-
fary to Marriage, that the Breach and Violation of it, fucceeding notoriouſly, does
not only diffolve the moft religious Contracts, and moſt folemn Promifes of Marri-
age, and fet the innocent Party at full Liberty, but it diffolves the Marriage Band
it felf immediately before God. It is indeed the Bottom and Foundation of all
thoſe Promiſes and Contracts, the very Reaſon on which they proceed, and the Sup-
pofition upon which all fuch Engagements are built, although not verbally expreſſed.
And therefore, when this Suppofition fails, when this Ground and Foundation of
the Contract and Engagement is removed and overturned, the Contract is it felf no
2 Ll
longer
}
306
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
longer binding to the innocent and unoffending Party : They may proceed in their
Engagements if they pleaſe, and chooſe; but the Tranfgreffion of the other fide
fets them at Liberty, notwithſtanding the moſt ſerious and moft folemn Promifes ;
the Tranfgreffion (that is to fay) that fucceeds and follows, not that which goes be-
fore the Contract: There is no retroſpect to be had, no looking back to Offences
committed heretofore; the greateſt Guilt of that kind poffible diffolves no following
Obligation, becauſe the Offence muſt have relation to the Party contracted with,
who is hereby ſuppoſed to be extreamly injured and abuſed; and therefore Regard is
only to be had to thofe Offences that do Violence to fuch Contract, which must be
only fuch as follow after fuch a Contract.
And what does all this fhew, but that the Nature of a Chriftian Marriage is fuch,
that it does unavoidably require mutual Fidelity, and the Performance of their Pro-
miſe made to forfake all other Perfons, and to adhere to each the other, fo long
as they both fhall live? This is fuppofed and implied in all Contracts; and verbally
expreffed, and actually engaged for in all compleated Marriages: And to this Fide-
lity the Men are equally obliged with the Women, how little foever they obferve,
or think of it. They make the fame Promiſe; they are tied by the fame Reaſon,
and by the like Command of God: And if there be fome difference betwixt the
Offence of one Party, and of the other, with refpect to Reputation, and the Confufion.
of Families, it is not what concerns the Confcience, it falls not properly under our
Confideration. It is (we have feen) the Bottom of all Contracts: Fidelity is what
the Men engage for, on their Part, and the true Reafon of the Women's engaging for
the fame, on theirs. And therefore in the Violation of it, there is Falfhood and In-
juſtice, they break a folemn Promiſe, and they do a great Injury: Let any one
confider whether thofe be not great Matters, and not to be flightly paffed over :
Whether it be not what himfelf expects from her, and is not, for the Violation of
it, ready to call for Fire from Heaven for Vengeance: But if a Man be ſo far
fo gone
in favour to himſelf, as not to think very heinoufly of his own Offences in this In-
ſtance, let him, to get a truer fight of the Matter, and to pass a better Judgment
on it, let him remove it from himſelf, and confider it in the Cafe of his Mother or
his own Daughter; whether he would not think them injured in the higheft Man-
ner, if either of their Husbands fhould prove falfe, and wander from their Beds, in
purſuit of unhallowed Pleaſures: And juſt as he imagines they would take the Falf-
hood and Injuſtice of their Huſbands, let him imagine that his own Wife takes his,
and bears it with the fame Concern and Heaviness. It is juft as reaſonable and fit
that his own Father, or his Son-in-Law fhould injure and afflict his Mother and his
Daughter, as he ſhould injure and afflict his Wife, by fuch his Falfhood. And if
the Senfe of their injurious grievous Treatment move him either to Rage or Pity, it
may fufficiently inftruct him, what deep Wounds his own vile Perjuries are dealing
daily to his Partner.
The deep Refentment of this Injury by the Wives, is therefore a farther Aggra-
vation of its Heinoufnefs: This Breach of Faith is not a Piece of Falfhood and In-
juſtice of little or no Moment, and which is eafily paffed by, and born; but one
of the ſharpeft Injuries that can be done, and the worſt taken by thoſe that are con-
cerned: God has fo ordered it, that, of all Wrongs, it fhould be the moſt grievous
and afflicting, and felt moſt fenfibly; to make Men, certainly, moft careful to avoid
the doing it. And therefore, tho' all Falfhood of this Nature be exceeding finful,
yet certainly thoſe Huſbands are yet more unpardonable, who to their Falf-
hood, add an impudent Contempt of Decency and good Fame, and openly af-
flict and grieve their Partners by an abominable Commerce. This Unkindneſs is
not neceffary even to the Profecution of their wicked Purpoſes, and therefore the
more
:
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
307
more cruel and inhuman: It is not only in Defiance to Religion and good Morals,
and to the Reproach of good Laws, and the Scandal of a Kingdom, but in it felf
unneceffarily barbarous and provoking; it were more manly, juft and honourable
to be a good Hypocrite, and not to give fuch publick Offence and Grief, where
they are bound to give all Eafe and Happineſs. This is a great Aggravation of
Falfhood, and makes it cruel, as well as impudent and injurious.
Not but that the moſt concealed and ſecret Violations of the Marriage-Faith, are
alfo in effect unkind; and alienate infenfibly, and by degrees, the Hearts and Af-
fections of Huſbands from their Wives. A great many Accidents occafion Diffe-
rences and Conteſts, as well as a Diverfity of Humours; and the Society is, notwith-
ſtanding them, eafy enough, and to be born with tolerable Satisfaction; but that
great Change and Eftrangement of the Mind, that ufually arifes from the Huſband's
Falfhood, and adulterous Thefts, is to the Wife remarkably confpicuous and uneafy :
That Coldneſs and Indifference that fucceeds, in fpite of all their Art, and faint
Endeavours to conceal it, by Civilities and formal Kindneſs, is eaſily and foon di-
ſtinguiſhed and difcerned. And therefore upon this Account it was fo neceffary,
to infiſt fo long upon the first particular Inftance, the being kindly affectioned to the
Perfon; becauſe it is the fureft and moft likely Way to prevent Men's falling into
thefe adulterous and abominable Snares; and becauſe the giving Way to theſe cor-
rupt Affections, is the moft fure and ready Way to diffolve and break the ftrongeſt
Marriage-love that ever was: And therefore, if it be fo abfolutely neceffary for Huf-
bands to love their Wives, as God Commands, there is nothing in the World fo like-
ly to retain their Affections, as being faithful to their Vows.
When Men give Way to new Engagements, it is but reaſonable to conclude, the
Old ones are wearing out; they will indeed wear out, in fpite of all Deſigns and
Refolutions to the Contrary: Men are not fo much Mafters of themſelves, as they
imagine, upon fuch Occafions; they do not understand their Power and Strength
fufficiently, when they intend to be good Huſbands, and yet frequent the Company
of wicked Women; the virtuous Love declines as faft, and far, as the diforderly
and criminal Affection gains Ground: Thofe Paffions feldom or never meet in one
Man; a Man may think they will, but the longer he Tries, the more he will find
himſelf deceived. He may intend and purpoſe, that, notwithſtanding all his Follies
and Tranfgreffions, he will ſtill retain his old Affection to his Partner; but it is not
in his Power; it is loft infenfibly, and by degrees, by wandring new Defires. It
ends, at beſt, in ceremonious, formal, cold Civilities; but much more commonly in
fecret Hatred and Averfion, in outward Quarrel and Conteſt, churlish or brutal
Ufage; nay, and fometimes in very Tragical Events. The wifeft Hufband in the
World cannot foreſee the Confequences of his Falfhood, nor know where it will
End in this World. And therefore, if a Man be fenfible and convinced, that very
much of, if not all the Peace and Quiet of his Life, depends upon the Mind and
Affection he bears to, and the good Opinion and Efteem he has of his Partner, he
will, of all Things in the World, keep faithful to her; for fo we find it is, (and
wifely ordered too) that the Affection of the Wife makes not the Hufband happy,
unleſs the Hufband alfo Love the Wife: It is the mutual Kindneſs of each Party
that bleffes the Relation; it is not the receiving Love and Favour from another, that
is truly pleafing and delightful, unless our Minds are alfo well affectioned to them;
and we find ourfélyes as well difpofed as they, to make as kind Returns.
So Parents do not feel the Joy and Pleaſure of their Relation, in receiving Love
and Honour and Obedience from their Children, unleſs they find themſelves pof-
feffed of that Affection, Tenderneſs and Care towards their Children, that is pro-
perly Parental; half at leaſt is wanting, to compleat their Joy and Happineſs, where
their
308
Duty of Husbands to Wives:
their own Hearts are not prepared with ſuch Affection as is truly Parental, and pe-
culiar to that Relation:
1
It muſt be much more fo; certainly, in the Relation betwixt Wife and Huſband;
it will be impoffible for either of them to be happy fingly, either in the Affection of
their Partner, or in their own; they muſt unite their Minds, or be uneafy: We can-
not poffibly be well and eaſy in the World, unleſs that other People will diſcharge
the feveral Duties which they owe us; but the greateſt Pleaſure and Content arifes
from the diſcharging well the Duties that we owe to others; that it might always
be more in our own Power to make our felves happy, than in any one's elſe to hin-
der us from being fo. Let never Man or Woman think of being happy in the Af-
fection of each the other, unlefs they are themſelves as tenderly affectioned to the
other, as the other is to them. And therefore it is a vain Miſtake, for any Huſband
to think he ſhall live eaſily and kindly with his Partner, be her Affection never fo
ſtrong and true to him, whilft he is, in his Heart, indifferent, or cold to her. And
upon this Account, whoever would be truly happy (as far as Men can be in fuch Re-
lation) muſt certainly be faithful to his Vows, and never wander.
Were not Religion any ways concerned in this Difpute, were there no Obligation
on the Conſcience urging this Fidelity; yet common Prudence and Experience would
preſcribe it, as the likelieft Method of fecuring that Affection of Huſbands to their
Wives, that is truly neceffary to the Diſcharge of that Relation, and to the promo-
ting and maintaining Domeſtick Peace and Happineſs, in the Manner that is need-
ful. I fhall therefore need only to mention the Command of God, enjoyning this
Fidelity, which, added to the former Reaſons, makes the Tranfgreffor inexcufable.
It is truly ſo much a Man's Interest to be true and faithful to his Vows and Promiſes,
that it is enough barely to fay, it is his Duty alfo. It is one of ten Commandments,
which argues its Importance moft convincingly. All married People are forbid
Adultery; and, in order to fulfilling that Command, are bid to love each other; for
they, who love each other, will be faithful to each other; and they who are not
faithful to each other, will not, cannot long continue loving each other as they
ought.
To all theſe Reaſons and Commands the Men of Liberty have nothing to oppoſe
in Earneſt, but the Examples of ſome Men in Scripture, high in God's Favour; who
yet had more Wives than one, or at leaft had many Concubines. But to this it
may be anſwered, that Example is not the Rule. of Life, but Precept: A great
many good Men have done very ill Things; and when the Scriptures recount their
evil Actions, without Blame or Cenfure, they do not thereby juſtify and approve
them: If there be a Rule in Scripture cenfuring and forbidding fuch and fuch Ac-
tions, it is enough; thofe Actions are fufficiently condemned by fuch a general
Rule, though not particularly blamed in the Recital of them. We fhould have
known Murder and Adultery to have been great Sins in David, by their being ex-
prefly prohibited by God's Commands, although the Scriptures had told us an hun-
dred Times, that he was a Man after God's own Heart, and had not mentioned
God's being highly diſpleaſed at them in Particular. His being a Man after God's
own Heart, would not have made us believe that Murder and Adultery were inno-
cent and allowed in him, whilft we found them condemned by God's Word in ge-
neral; but we ſhould have concluded, that David was, except in theſe Matters, a
careful Worshipper of God, and, for many good Qualities, dear to him. But how-
ever, ſome of theſe Liberties might be permitted in thofe Days and Places, for
Reaſons proper and peculiar to them, which would not be fit for other Folks,
at other Times. And lastly, it is moſt reaſonable to look to the firſt Inftitution of it
which was in Paradife, where Adam had but one Eve: And in the Reſtoration of
the
•
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
309
the World by Noah and his Sons, after the Flood, where each of them had but one
Wife: And yet, at theſe two Seaſons, there was the greateſt Occafion of multiply-
ing People to inhabit the World, that ever yet has been; and whatever Permiffions,
or Indulgences followed afterwards, it is certain that our Saviour Chrift reduced it
to its firſt Appointment and Inſtitution, and fo the Chriftian World has ever fince
maintained it.
.
The other Particular, in which the Hufbands are to fhew they Love their Wives,
is, in taking Care of, and making all due Provifion for them: To maintain them
as becomes their Partners, whilft they live, and to leave them wherewithal to fub-
fift, according to their Eftate and Condition, in Cafe they happen to furvive them.
They are, according to good Senfe and Reaſon, and to the Cuftoms of our Coun-
try, Friends and Companions to their Husbands, not Slaves, nor Menial Servants,
and therefore are, in Decency, to be their Partners in their Fortunes. They will
unavoidably partake of all their Troubles and Afflictions; and therefore it is but
juft, that they ſhould ſhare of their Felicities: A Huſband cannot fall into Decay
and Poverty, nor hardly any fort of Calamity, but he will certainly have his Wife
involved therein with him; they are infeparable Companions in Miſery and Mif-
fortune: And therefore what can make amends for this, but the Certainty of par-
taking in all their good Fortune alfo? Neither is this any more, than what is ex-
prefly promiſed and agreed to in the Matrimonial Contract, by which it is provided,
that the Wife is endowed with all the Hufband's worldly Goods; that is, fhe is to have
the Uſe of every Thing belonging to him, that is neceffary, convenient, and de-
lightful; to be as eafy and as happy, as his worldly State and Condition can mak❤
her. She bargains for it upon her Part, and he engages for it upon his, and is unjuſt,
as well as unkind, if he deny it.
Neither is this Care to end here; it is not enough to let them partake of all
the Bleffings of this World in common with them, whilft they live together; but
it muſt alſo extend it ſelf to the providing for them, after they themſelves are dead,
if they ſurvive; and that according to what is feemly and becoming, according to
the Quality and Condition they have lived in (if there be Ability) and according to
the Cuſtoms of the Place. It is indecent, as well as hard, that they ſhould fall
from Plenty and Eſteem, into a State of Poverty and Vilenefs. And therefore, the
churlish and ill-tempered Men are not only to blame, who deny their Wives, whilſt
living with them, what is handſome and convenient for them; but even the kind-
eſt and beſt natured Men alive, who take no Care of their Support and Mainte-
nance, in Caſe they overlive them: Theſe are properly the bad Hufbands, who, by
their Folly and Profufenefs, or by Neglect and Idleneſs, by Gaming, or Intempe-
rance, or other evil Courſes, leave them (as they call it) to the wide World, ex-
poſe them naked, and unprovided, to Want and Mifery, and great Calamities.
Men will in vain pretend to Love and Kindneſs, that are careleſs in this Parti-
cular, and make not a reaſonable Proviſion for their Widowhood, as they are able
but rather chooſe to live at large, and leave them deftitute and helpleſs; as if the
Sorrows of their folitary State were not fufficient. Where neither Men's Eſtate,
Calling, nor Induſtry can competently furniſh them with Maintenance, it is excu-
fable, though pitiable: But where it proceeds from Careleffneſs and Negligence, from
Waftefulneſs and Ill-hufbandry, or from any Cauſe and Occafion, in a Man's Power
to hinder and prevent; there, the not making due Provifion for their Maintenance
and Eaſe, is both indecent, and unkind, and moſt exceedingly blameable. A true
and virtuous Love will thew it felf in outward kind Effects, as well as in the inward
Movings of the Heart: And they, who are the Parties moſt concerned, muſt be
able to witneſs their being well beloved, by fuch good Fruits and Confequences as
2 M m
that
310.
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
that kind Paffion ufually produces; one of which, is certainly a due Regard to the
Relation, and Affection, the Quality and Condition of Wives, whilft they lived
with them, and a proportionable Maintenance for them.
Theſe are the three Particulars, in which the Hufbands are to fhew the Love which
God Commands them to their Wives. They are to be kindly affectioned to their
Perfons; they are to be true and faithful to them, and to maintain them decently
and handſomly in all Reſpects, whilft they live with them; and to take all due
Care, according to their Condition and Ability, to leave them eafy, when themſelves
are dead and gone. Neither is the Duty of the Relation of Huſbands to be fuffi-
ciently diſcharged, by any one or two of theſe Particulars, but by all together:
- They are indeed fo chained and knit together, that whöever, upon good Principles,
obſerves to fulfil one, will ſeldom fail of diſcharging all: He will fee the fame Rea-
fon, and the fame Command of God, for all, as much as one. And whofoever con-´
fiders Matters ſeriouſly, and intends to fhew himſelf a fober, virtuous, and religious
Man, in this Relation of a Huſband, and does not marry with a wild and fenfual,
heedleſs, inconfiderate Spirit, will certainly oblige himſelf to take all Care imaginable
to make a wife and prudent Choice at firft, fuch as may laudably engage his Af-
fections, and as reaſonably retain them; for when that Point is well ſettled, the reſt
will follow eafily, and not without it. Affection will engage Men to Fidelity, and
make them duly careful and follicitous of making fit Provifion for them, both in
Life and Death. And truly, without this Foundation, it will be
hard for any
very
Hufbands to comply with St. Paul's Advice, to love their Wives; or with the other
Part of it, in the Words of the Text, not to be bitter against them; which are in
the laft Place to be confidered, and that in a few Words.
;
The Phraſe ſeems to be taken from the Offence and Diſguſt that bitter Things
give when tafted, and not liked. And the Advice is, that Huſbands ſhould not,
by a peevish and morofe, a churlish and ill-natured Carriage, make themſelves as
uneafy and unagreeable to their Wives, as bitter Things are diſtaſteful to the Palate
or, that they ſhould not be provoked to Anger and Diſtaſte, and hard unkind Words
or Actions, by the Failings, Heedleffneſs, and Imperfections of their Wives; as the
Palate or Stomach is provoked to diſguſt and loathing, by the Taſte of any Thing
very bitter. In ſhort, they are not to uſe, neither in Word nor Deed, any Ungentle-
neſs, or Rigour towards them.
There is a Bitterneſs of Language that every one underſtands, and Words that
wound to the Quick; and, as the Pfalmift fays, are very Swords: But that, which
gives them ufually their Point and Edge, is the Confideration of the Perſon that
ſpeaks, and the Relation he ſtands in to us: The Words of Strangers, weak or
ignorant, though never fo bad, are in a manner Idle, and affect us little; The
Words of a malicious Adverfary make no very deep Impreffion, becauſe we com-
monly expect no better from him: But the hard Words of Friends and Neigh-
bours, Acquaintance and Relations, occafion us Grief and great Concern. The ill
Ufage of others ſtirs us to Anger and Indignation, but it is againſt them; but the ill
Uſage we receive at the Hands of thoſe we Love, and from whom we looked not
for it, occafions Sadneſs and much Trouble, Pain and Uneafineſs within. It is the
Defeat of our Expectation and Defire that hurts us moſt, on theſe Occafions: We
know we love, and we would be beloved; we try to oblige by all means, and we
would be again obliged in our turn; we Favour them, and would be recommended
to their Favour; and, failing of theſe Returns, expected and defired by us, we are
the more afflicted and difconfolate. Our Concern, under any Diſappointment, is
ftill proportioned to the Hopes we had conceived of another kind of Event. It is
this Account, that harsh and bitter Words become fo grievous to near Relations,
becauſe
upon
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
31 1
becauſe they are fo little looked for and expected; the Mind is full of other Hopes;
and is furprized to find them fo deceived: This, of all other Things, makes bitter
Words from Huſbands fo afflicting to the Wives; they are in Reaſon and Nature to
look for all Forbearance, Gentleneſs and Patience, for Affability and Condefcenfion,
and every Thing that can proceed from Confideration and Good-nature; and they
meet with all the Contrary, Moroſeneſs, Peeviſhneſs, Impatience, no Allowances,
Clamour, Revilings, and ungenerous Upbraidings: And this, to foft and tender Dif-
pofitions, is a cruel and afflicting Uſage, fits heavy on the Mind, and wounds the
Heart moſt fenfibly; makes them paſs their Hours uncomfortably, and oftimes ends
their Life in Sorrow.
And upon theſe Accounts this Bitterneſs is forbidden; it is truly unmanly and
unjuft, and becoming neither a religious nor a reaſonable Creature. We are oblig
ed to make the Life of every one as eafy and delightful as we can; and therefore
are commanded to be as kind and good to all the World as poffibly we can, con-
fiftently with the promoting and fecuring of our own Eaſe and Happineſs, and that
of thoſe who are related to us in a nearer or remoter Degree; and therefore are moſt
ſtrictly tied to do nothing Cruel and Unjust to any one: And therefore, when we
make thoſe Miſerable, whom God and Nature have obliged us to make Eaſy and
Happy, altho' it be by Words only, we are highly to blame; for if a little Mat-
ter will do the fame Hurt to one, which a great one will but do to another, we are
as much obliged to abstain from the fmall, as from the great Offence: And if
the Bitterneſs of Words be fo grievous to tender and good-natured People, it is be-
cauſe the kindeſt and moſt gentle Language is their due; they have a Right to look
for it, which ſhould not be defeated: And whofoever ſhall confider to what extraor-
dinary Difficulties and Sufferings, God, by his Order and Appointment, hath moſt
unadvoidably ſubjected and expoſed the Women above Men, as well by their own
natural Frame and Make, as by a great many fad, but uſual Accidents, will fee
himſelf obliged in common Pity to deal gently with them, to help, by Patience
and Forbearance, to make their Burthen lighter, and to ſuſtain them under their In-
firmities.
There is alfo a being Bitter that is carried beyond Words, and proceeds to perfo-
nal Outrage, Violence, and Hurt; a thing unworthy any good and honeſt Man,
nor juſtifiable, without a great Neceffity, betwixt a Maſter and his Slave, much
leſs to be endured from any Huſband to his Partner and Companion, who is of equal
Dignity. This Practice, truly villainous, was of fo ill Sound and Fame, fo very
unbecoming the Relation, that the Civil Laws did, in fome Cafes, allow it a juſt
Ground for a Divorce; and indeed, when People (at leaſt of any Education, or
Faſhion) come to that paſs, they ſeem not fit to live together: But yet when they
ceaſe to be Friends and kind Companions, they do not preſently become Slaves.
is
I have now done with the Duty of Hufbands, contained in this Command, to
love their Wives, and not be Bitter against them: In which, there is nothing but what
very reaſonable and fit to be complied withal by every good and honeſt Man ;
nothing but what will truly tend to the procuring and promoting his own Peace
and Happineſs, and to the Comfort of his Life. And fo indeed it is, with the
Diſcharge of every other Duty: We vainly feek for Eafe and Happineſs in Liberty,
and Difengagement from our Duties; whereas, to fober and confidering Minds, it
is evident, that as this World is ordered, it is impoffible to be at Eaſe, but by a faith-
ful due Diſcharge of all the feveral Obligations laid upon us, by the feveral Relations
we contract to one another. When we ceafe to be good Fathers and good Sons,
good Subjects and good Hufbands, good Mafters and good Servants; how can we
poffibly be happy? Whom ſhall we love and honour, and by whom ſhall we be
loved
312
Duty of Husbands to Wives.
loved and honoured? Whom ſhall we gratify and ferve, by whom ſhall we be grati-
fied and ſerved? Whilft we are fociable Creatures, we muſt have all the focial Vir-
tues; we can receive no Duty whilft we pay none. And though, when all is
done, we ſhall never be very happy in this World of Mifery; yet we ſhall never
be fo, in any tolerable Meaſure and Degree, without a good Intention, and a hear-
ty reaſonable Endeavour to diſcharge with Faithfulneſs and Care the feveral Duties
that we owe to all the World; and which is truly the End and Purpoſe for which
we are fent into it, and continued in it; and of which we fhall, one Day, give a
ſtrict Account to God, and ſhall receive a Reward or Puniſhment, according to our
Diligence, or our Neglect of the Performance of thoſe Duties.
DISCOURSE XIV.
COLOSSIANS III. VERSES 22, 23, 24.
Servants, obey in all Things your Mafters according to the Fleſh; not
with Eye-fervice, as Men-pleafers, but in Singleness of Heart,
fearing God: And whatfoever you do, do it heartily, as unto the
Lord, and not unto Men: Knowing that of the Lord ye shall re-
ceive the Reward of the Inheritance; for ye ferve the Lord Chrift.
T
HESE Words do plainly contain in them, First, A Command to Ser-
vants to obey their Mafters according to the Flesh, in all Things. Secondly,
A Caution about the Manner of performing their Duty, and the End
they ſhould propoſe to themſelves in doing it: They ſhould not ſerve
with Eye-fervice, as Men-pleafers, but in Singleness of Heart, fearing God; and what-
ever they did, they ſhould do it heartily, as unto the Lord, and not unto Men. They
ſhould not only ſerve their Mafters well, whilft their Hand and Eye was over them,
as if the pleafing them were the only Thing they aimed at ; but they ſhould always be
exactly Diligent and Faithful in their Service, whether their Maſters were abfent or
preferit, and could diſcover them or no; they ſhould be, indeed, at all Times, and
on all Occafions, as Honeft and as Careful in their Maſter's Buſineſs, as they would
appear to others, and to them, whilft looking on them. They fhould obey in Single-
ness of Heart, ſerve fincerely, and without Diffimulation: fearing God, looking up
to him, and knowing they are always in his Sight; and whatever they do, they
fhould do it as to the Lord; as obeying Him, and defirous of making themſelves ac-
ceptable to Him, as well as to Men, either their Maſters or others. Thirdly, Here
is the Reafon, Ground and Foundation of the Servants paying all Obedience, and
due Service to their Mafters, and of their doing it to the Lord, or in Obedience to
the Lord; Knowing that of the Lord; ye shall receive the Reward of the Inheritance
for ye ferve the Lord Chrift. The Service and Obedience of Servants ſhall not go un-
rewarded in the other World, however it fare with them in this; and therefore there
is no want of a fufficient Encouragement of their Faithfulneſs and Diligence; they
Shall receive the Reward of Inheritance; they fhall be treated in Heaven as God's
Children: And this Reward they fhall receive of the Lord, and therefore there is
need
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
313
need of looking up to him, and fearing him, and accounting him their Sovereign
Maſter, for they ferve the Lord Chrift. Their earthly Maſters, or Maſters according
to the Fleſh, may overlook, neglect, or evilly intreat their utmoſt Labours, Care
and Honeſty; but Chrift their heavenly Maſter, whoſe they are, and whom they
ferve, will not fo uſe them; but feeing from above their faithful, diligent, and
honeſt Labours in their Maſters Service, will moft unquestionably deal with them
as good and honeſt Servants, and cauſe them, in due Time, to enter into the Joy
of their Lord. So St. Paul expreffes the fame Thing, in Ephef. vi. 8. Knowing
that whatſoever good Thing any Man doth, the ſame ſhall be receive of the Lord, whe-
ther he be bond or free. Of thefe Things in their order.
And, Firft, of the Command; Servants, obey in all things your Mafters, accord-
ing to the Flesh. To obey in all Things, is a Command of very great Extent, and
repeated in the like Terms, Titus ii. 9. and fo the Children are to obey their Pa-
rents in all Things, in ver. 20. of this Chapter; and the Wives are to be ſubject to
their Huſbands in every Thing, Eph. v. 24. And yet you may take it for a Rule,
that neither Father, Huſband, nor Mafter, nor any Superiour whatfoever, is to be
obeyed in all Things: Obedience, without Reſtriction or Reſerve, belongs to no
mortal Man: And therefore, let Commands be never fo exprefs and full, never ſo
general and extenfive, there will be always room, and neceffity for Limitations and
Reſtrictions, arifing from the Reafon of the Command, and the Nature of the fub-
ject Matter, from the pofitive Command of God, and from the Laws of the King-
dom, or fome other Confideration not to be omitted. And though, in ſpeaking
to the other Relations, I have confidered theſe Exceptions; yet it will not be amifs
to take Notice here alfo, in what Particulars neither Maſters can require, nor Ser-
vants owe, or ought to pay Obedience.
And, First, the Laws of God are certainly to be preferred to all the Commands
of Maſters, Miſtreffes, and all Superiours: If God Command one Thing to be done,
and prohibit the doing another, no Maſter can diſpenſe with his Servant's neglect-
ing the Command, or venturing on the Prohibition: The Servant is there to obey
God rather than his Mafter.
And fo it is, Secondly, with the Laws of the Land; they alſo are to be preferred
to all the Commands of Mafters and Superiours, becauſe they are above them, and
were before them. Even in things not naturally diſhoneſt and immoral, but fuch
as it would be innocent and lawful to do, if they were not actually forbidden by
Law; even in fuch Things as theſe, a Servant is not to obey his Mafter, becauſe
he has not Power to do thofe Things himſelf, nor Power to bid another do them.
The Laws of the Land are fuperiour to all Maſters, and are always prefumed to
enact upon Reaſon and good Grounds; and therefore, though Servants are to obey
in all Things, yet it is only in all Things where they are at Liberty to obey, by
either the Laws of God, or by the Laws of the Land: For the Good of the Commu-
nity, (which is preſumed to be confidered and confulted in all Laws, whether it be,
or no) being greater and fuperiour to the Good of Servants obeying their Maſters, it
is but reaſonable the Laws fhould be confidered and obeyed, rather than any private
Orders of a Maſter, though what is ordered to be done, were otherwiſe innocent
and lawful to be done, if it had not been prohibited. This puts it paft all doubt,
that a Servant never muſt obey his Mafter commanding him any Thing immoral,
or againſt any pofitive Law of God. Thus if a Maſter take his Servant out with
him, and order him to fet upon another, and take away either his Money or
his Life, his Command is to go for nothing; he has no Authority to lay fuch a
Command upon his Servant, nor muſt any Servant pay Obedience to fuch Orders or
Commands. The Obligations that all People, Servants as well as Maſters, lie under
2 N n
to
314
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
to be juſt and honeft, and do no Hurt or Violence, or leffer Injury to any one, are
antecedent to, and greater than any Obligations that a Maſter can lay upon his Ser-
vant; and therefore, till a Maſter can fet his Servant at Liberty from the Obedi-
ence he owes to God's Laws, pofitive or moral, and free him from the Penalties of
Difobedience, he can lay no Orders of his own upon the Servant contradictory to
God's. The Servant muſt ſay with himſelf, what virtuous Jofeph faid under a
great Temptation, How can I do this Thing, and Sin against God? How can I pof-
fibly comply with fuch a Command of my Maſter's to be unjuft or wicked, and
know at the fame Time I am forbidden by God the doing it? God is the Mafter
of us all, and with him there is no reſpect of Perfons; bond or free are alike
obliged to obey his Laws, and no Power lefs than his own can diſpenſe with any
one neglecting or deſpifing them; and much leſs will the Command of a Superiour
here on Earth excuſe a Servant, or Inferiour, offending againſt God in pure Obe-
dience to his Mafter.
The Authority of Mafters over Servants is very useful to the Good and Order
of Mankind, and to the Welfare of the World; and accounted fo reaſonable,
that a great many fmall Offences are excufed in Servants, under Authority, and
acting by Command, becauſe they are under fome Conſtraint and Awe, and becauſe
a great many Inconveniencies would follow upon the ſcrupulous Difpute of Servants,
weighing and examining the Orders and Injunctions of their Maſters. But this
can only be underſtood in Things indifferent, or in Matters wholly above the Ca-
pacity of Servants: In all fuch Cafes, Submiffion and Obedience beſt becomes them;
but where the Cafe is plain and evident, and the Execution of the Command muſt
certainly be hurtful to them, as oppofing fome Command of God, there they muſt
needs difpute and difobey: There no Body excufes them for acting by Authority,
for no one has Authority againſt Juſtice, Honeſty or Truth; and there is no Capa-
city too mean to underſtand their moral Duties, that is fufficient to deliberate,
and to execute Defigns that overthrow them.
But neither are all Servants alike obliged to obey their Mafters in all Things,
though innocent and lawful, or indifferent; becauſe that all are not alike Servants.
The State of Servitude is very different in one Country, from what it is in another;
and in the fame Country it is differenced by the Variety of Contracts and Agree-
ments: And the Duty and Obedience of Servants is to be meaſured by thofe Con-
tracts, and thoſe different Cuſtoms. And therefore, when St. Paul exhorts the
Coloffian and Ephefian Servants to obey their Mafters in all Things; if fome of them
were Captives and downright Slaves, and others only Servants by Agreement, and
hired out themſelves to labour in their Calling for fuch and fuch Advantages of
Wages and Protection, and upon certain Terms; though both theſe forts of People
might be properly called Servants by St. Paul, and both exhorted to perform the
Duty of Servants to Mafters; yet were it evident, that St. Paul did not hereby
make the State of their Servitude alike, but faid the fame Words to them, in dif-
ferent Senfes, according to the different Condition of their Servitude. To the Slaves
and Captives he would fay, Obey your Maſters in all Things, as becomes your fad Con-
dition, and make your Chains as eafy as you can, by your Compliance and Submiſſion :
But to the hired Servants he would be underſtood to fay, Obey your Maſters in all
Things, according to your Contract and Agreement; behave your felves as diligently and
faithfully, as you have promiſed them to do, or by the Cuſtom of the Place are prefumed
to have promiſed them: He might exhort the Slaves to obey their Maſters even at
the Oar, and in the Mines; but it were not reaſonable to think he ſhould thereby
exhort the hired Servants to fubmit to be fent under-ground, or to the Labour of
the Gallies, if their Maſters ſhould command them thither. Neither the Cuftoms
•
of
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
315
}
of the Country, nor the Contract gave the Mafters any fuch Authority over the hired
Servants; and therefore they owe no fuch Submiffion or Obedience. And St. Paul
does not bring them into any new Bondage; but exhorts and commands them to dif
charge the Duty that they owe, by Vertue of their Choice and Undertaking, to ſerve
their Maſters in fuch a Capacity, on fuch Condition.
It is therefore evident, that Reſpect muft needs be had to the different State of
Servitude of different People, to know in what Particulars a Servant is at Liberty
from complying with fome Commands of Mafters, that yet are Innocent and Law-
ful enough in themſelves. Now, if upon fuppofal of thefe fort of Servants, either
at Ephefus, or at Colofs, the Exhortation muſt be differently understood, with reſpect to
each of them; it is plain it muſt be alſo underſtood according to the Ufages and
Contracts of all the different Countries of the World: For here is no new Servitude
induced, nor old one abrogated, but Servants are left by Chriftianity juſt in the State
it found them; their Condition is not at all altered; but not for the Worfe to be
fure. And if this were well confidered in the higher Inftances of Princes and Sub-
jects, as well as in thofe of Maſters and Servants, a great many weak and undue In-
ferences and Arguments from the State of Jewish or Roman Government and Sub-
jection, to that of other free and brave Nations, had been avoided, which only ferve
to perplex well-meaning People. But that which I would chiefly fhow hereby, is
this, that all Servants, not being alike Servants, but of different Sorts and Degrees,
are not alike obliged to obey their Maſters in all Things, but are at Liberty in fome
Particulars, according to their Contracts and Agreements; and are therefore only
obliged to ferve and obey their Maſters in all Particulars, wherein they have engaged
to pay
them Service and Obedience, either exprefly, or implicitly, by the Nature of
their Undertaking and Employment. And that being the Cafe and Condition of all
Chriſtian Servants with us, is the only Cafe that is to be confidered by us, in ſpeak-
ing to the Duty of Servants.
Every Servant is therefore commanded by God to diſcharge the Duty and Service
which his Station or Agreement require of him; he muſt anſwer the End of his
being Entertained, and fulfil the Conditions upon which he is admitted to Service.
This is the Subftance and Matter of the Command. The Second Thing to be con-
fidered, is the Caution adjoined about the Way and Manner of performing their
Service, and the End they ſhould propoſe to themſelves in doing it: They should not
Serve with Eye-fervice, as Men-pleafers, but in Singleness of Heart, fearing God; and
doing whatever they did, not as to Men, but as to God. They muſt not only appear to
be good and careful Servants, by being Diligent, and ſeeming very Juft and Honeſt,
whilſt their Maſters are in Sight, or when they are fure it will reach their Ears by
others Information; but they muſt be indeed always fo, both in their Abfence, and
when it is likely they ſhall never hear or know they are indeed fo Diligent and Ho-
neft, but by the good Effects and Confequences: They must be fo upon religious
Principles, becauſe it is their Duty, both by God's Commandment, and their own
Engagement; they are tied by both to ſerve Diligently and Honeſtly, in Singleness of
Heart, without Diffimulation and Hypocrify: They muſt be, in Truth and Sub-
Lance, as good Servants as they would ſhew and appear to be to Strangers, or their
Maſters, fearing God. They ſtand continually in God's Sight, although not always
in their Maſter's Eye; and they ſhould ſet his Fear before them, who fees them con-
ſtantly, and knows moft certainly, whether they are as Diligent and Honeſt in their
Maſter's Ignorance and Abſence, as when he ſtands by, and fees them doing Ser-
vice. Whatever they do, they ſhould endeavour to approve themſelves to God, by
doing it in fuch a Manner, that is, by being fo Diligent and Honeſt in their Service,
as that God ſhall certainly approve them, whether Men do or no.
A Maſter may
be
316
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
!
be pleaſed, becauſe he is deceived with Eye-ſervice, and with a feeming Diligence
and Honeſty; but God is not fo pleaſed, becauſe he is not to be fo deceived: but
knows the Heart, and fees the Falfhood at the Bottom. And when a Servant pleaſes
God, (as all do that are Juft and Faithful, Diligent and Careful in their Bufinefs)
they feldom fail of pleafing Men. They may, by fome Misfortune or Miſtake, or by
Perverſeneſs, fail of pleaſing Men, even when they pleaſe God; but then they have
the Satisfaction of knowing they defigned to pleaſe Men, and took the likelieft
Courſe to do it. For Servants are not here forbidden Eye-fervice, and pleafing
Men, as it imports the doing well and carefully under the Maſter's Eye, and whilſt
he is in Sight, for that is but reaſonable and their Duty ; but they are forbidden the
being only Eye-ſervants, and the endeavouring to pleaſe their Maſters whilſt they are
in Sight And are commanded to behave themſelves as well, to be as diligent and
juft and true, at all Times, as in their Maſter's Prefence: And if a Servant would
but take that for his Rule, he would hardly ever fail of pleafing both God and
his Maſter; but be as Diligent and Honeft at all Times, as his Mafter fees he is
whilſt he is with him, and as he would have his Maſter believe he always is. This
would prevent all Sloth, and unreaſonable Waſte of Time, and all Neglect of Bufi-
nefs, and all Deceit, and fecret Thefts. A Servant never Cares to appear Slothful
to his Maſter, becauſe he knows it is a Quality that will never recommend him,
and therefore chooſes to exert his Vigour and Activity while he is by: He knows
then what it is will pleaſe him, and what it is that is his Duty; and therefore he ought,
according to his Strength and Abilities, to be as active in his Abſence. A Servant,
when he enters into Service, gives up his Time and Labour, by Agreement, to his
Maſter, in Confideration of what Wages, Keeping, and Protection he expects from
him: And therefore he would be unjuſt to waſte that Time, and fpare that Labour,
that is truly none of his; they are his Mafter's by his Contract, and his Mafter
ought to have the Advantage of them: It is defrauding of People of what is their
due; it is keeping back Part of what is already fold them, and agreed for; and it
would be full as juſt for a Maſter to detain Part of his Servant's Wages, contracted
for, at the Year's End, as it is for a Servant to waſte a great deal of that Time,
and ſpare a great deal of that Labour, that was his Mafter's by Agreement: Be-
cauſe a Servant has no more Right to his Maſter's Money, than the Maſter has
Right to his Servant's Time and Labour; the one does not ſtand to his Bargain ; and
therefore, and thereby, he fets the other at his Liberty. Juftice is the rendring to
all Men what is their due, and Injuftice the detaining from any one what is their
due.
Now whatever is due by Contract and Agreement from one Party to another, is
generally due upon fulfilling ſuch Terms and Conditions; and if one Party fulfill
the Terms and Conditions propofed by the other, he has a Right to all that is promiſed
and engaged for on thoſe Terms, and the other is unjuſt if he deny it. This makes
it evident, that if a Servant Contract with a Maſter to give him all his Time and
Labour, for ſuch a ſpace of Days or Weeks, or Months, or Years, and be as good
as his Word, and ftand to his Bargain; he has an undoubted Right to whatever
Wages or Advantage his Mafter agreed to let him have, and his Mafter would be a
very wicked and unjuſt Man to deny him it; becauſe he earned it, and deſerved
it, and it was his due by Contract and Agreement. This is evident on the Servant's
fide; but then it is as evident on the other Hand, that the Servant will have no more
Right to his Maſter's Promiſe and Engagement, than he gains by performing the
Conditions on which that Promiſe and Engagement ftand; and that the Maſter
would not be unjuſt or wicked in refuſing to pay him the Full, in Caſe it were ful-
ly proved, that he had not given that Time and Labour to his Service that he ought.
This
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
317
This is but Juftice; and if the Laws do not allow or countenance fuch Defalcati
ons, and Detentions, it is, becauſe they fuppofe and put the Servants fo much into
the Hands and Power of their Maſters, that they may make, and ſee them fulfill
their Contracts; and they are prefumed to bear with, and indulge fuch waſte of
Time, and ſparing of Labour, as would have been fufficient for their Buſineſs; and
they muſt bear the Miſchiefs and Inconveniencies, which they would not, though
they might, prevent, either by conſtraining them to labour and perform their Duty,
or by difmiffing them, and having no more to do with them. It is not fit the
Law ſhould make the Mafters Judges, whether the Servants fhall have their Wages
contracted for, when the Maſters were at Liberty to contract, and might fee
whether the Servants could deſerve them; and, in great Meaſure, make them earn
them. But yet the Servants cannot help ſeeing, that it would be but juſt and
reaſonable for the Maſters to deny them Part of their Wages, if they denied, and
wronged their Maſters of that Time and Labour to which their Wages were only
due. And therefore idle and flothful Servants know they are unjuſt and falſe to their
Agreement, when they miſ-ſpend their Maſter's Time, and give him not that La-
bour which they owe to his Service.
And that they may not be to feek, or troubled with much Scruples and Un-
certainty, about the ſpace and proportion of Time and Labour to be beſtowed
upon the Maſters Service, let them confider a little, what they do in Eye-ſervice,
and when they would pleafe Men: And though it would not be reaſonable to ex-
pect they ſhould continually exert fuch Vigour and Activity on all Occafions, as
they do when they would fhew themſelves to beſt Advantage; yet it were fit to
mend their Pace, although they made fome tolerable Abatements: They know
very well, there is a Difference betwixt the Extremities of Slothfulneſs, and the
Quickneſs of Eye-ſervice; and that the middle Way between them is moſt rea-
fonable, and would fuffice. A moderate and continued Labour has Advantages that
Servants do not always think on; it makes their neceffary Service, in Time, grow
eaſy to them: It is fo in all other Caſes; continued and repeated Acts beget Habits,
and Things habitual become eafy and familiar to us; and conftant and continued
Labours do the like, if done with any fort of Moderation. When Strength and
Pains are duly and diſcreetly proportioned out, they beget a Sort of Activity in Peo-
ple, that will not long bear Reft and Idleneſs, but puts them upon Labour and
Employment: And therefore it is truly for the Eafe and Intereft of Servants to
beſtir themſelves, as well as to the Profit of their Maſters, and the Diſcharge of
their own Duties to them. It makes their Pains and Labour grow, in Time, eafy
and well to be endured by them, and begets in them fuch an habitual Activity,
as will in good Time ftand them in great ftead, when they come to be at Liberty,
and at their own Difpofal. Then they will fee and feel the Benefit of having
been good Servants; they will reap the Fruits of all that Induſtry, and Care, and
Labour, which they exerciſed in the Service of their Maſters; i. e. they will now
be Induſtrious, Careful, and Laborious for themſelves, and in their own Concerns,
by having long been uſed to be ſo in their Maſters. It will fometimes be otherwife
but this is the moſt natural and moft ufual Confequence.
They, who have ſerved their Maſters with the greateſt Induſtry and Diligence,
will certainly ſerve themſelves the beſt, when they come to it: They will not only
begin with greater Intereſt and better Credit, but, in all likelihood, they will go on
with more Succefs: There is all the Reaſon in the World to think they fhould :
That Application of Mind, and Difpofition of Body to labour and take pains, which
they have long exerciſed, will not now forfake them, but rather be increaſed and
raiſed by the Confideration, that the Fruits of them will now be gathered by them-
200
felves
1
318
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
ſelves, and come home. The Defire of thriving and fucceeding in their Callings,
is not fo fure and near a Way to the doing fo, as the being Laborious and In-
duftrious in them is; for the Defire of thriving can only quicken Men, and put
them upon Induſtry and Labour; it ſhews them the Means that are neceffary to that
End, but they may ſtill know this, and ſtill defire, without obtaining it; whereas
the Men, that are already both Induftrious and Laborious, feldom want the Defire
of ſucceeding, and find they are already in the right Way: This partly gives Ac-
count why many Servants, when they become Mafters, fucceed fo ill, notwith-
ſtanding their Defires and Aims of growing rich, and thriving, becauſe they have
not uſed themſelves to induſtry and labour, and cannot take thoſe Pains that are
truly neceffary to the doing well. They may have Skill and Artifice enough, and
may be frugal and good Huſbands; but thoſe Things will not do, without great In-
duſtry and Labour in their ſeveral Ways; which will not come when they are cal-
led for, and found neceffary, but muſt have been laid up before by Uſe and Cuſtom :
Experience therefore teaches this, as well as Reafon, that the better Servants any
People are to their Maſters, the better they will certainly fucceed, when they come
to manage their own Concerns: And one would think, this very Confideration
fhould prevail with young People, to be as Careful and Induſtrious as they well can,
whilft with their Mafters, that they may find the Advantage of it in good Time
themſelves.
There is an abfolute Neceffity of being Careful, Diligent, Induftrious and Labo-
rious, if Men have any Aim at living eafily and well, and thriving in the World;
and thefe Qualifications are never to be attained by any one, but by Ufe and Cuſtom,
and being trained up to them by a conſtant and continued Practice; which is to
be begun when People are Young, their Minds ſuſceptible of Impreffions, and pliable
to Heedfulneſs and Application, and their Limbs flexible to labour: This is the Time
and Seaſon of making Induſtry and Labour habitual to them. All the Care they take,
and the Pains they are at, are truly for their own Service at the laft; all the Skill
and Underſtanding they get, is a Treaſure for themſelves: And if their Maſters
ſhould permit them to continue Ignorant and Slothful, it would be ſo much to
their Lofs and Miſchief; they would not only ferve them much the Worſe, but
they would be ſo much Sufferers themselves; they would loſe their Time, and be
unfit for their Employments: And therefore too indulgent and remifs Maſters do
never make good Servants, and they will never deſerve to find them thankful for
fuch Eafineſs. For when the Servants come to be neceffitated to induſtry and
labour, by ſome unufal Urgencies, or by the Neceffity of their Condition, they
perfectly to ſeek, and at a Loſs what to do. Theſe are ſome of the Inconveniences
of Eye-fervice, of Idleneſs and Sloth, and Waſte of Time, which every Servant
fhould do well to think on. They are injurious to themſelves, make them inca-
pable of anfwering the Defigns of their Parents or Friends, in putting them to Trades
and Callings, and of their own Deſigns of living handſomely and ſuitably to their
Condition in the World; and occafion them, at the fame Time, to be bad Servants,
and to defraud their Maſters of that Time and Labour which is truly due to them,
and which they have agreed themſelves to give them; and therefore they are falfe
and unjuſt, when they deny or take them from them. And though the Maſters
have a Power, by Puniſhment and by Reſtraint, to make the Servants do their
Duty and their Buſineſs, and do not exerciſe it on them, and might be therefore
(as they are in Law) prefumed to reſt contented with what is done; yet ought not
this to fatisfy the Conſcience of the Servant, who knows he is remifs and negligent
in his Mafter's Concerns; for his Mafter is all the While deceived, either believing
his Buſineſs well done, when it is not; or knowing it is not done, when he
might
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
319
+
might reaſonably expect and require it fhould be done by the Servant; by either of
which Ways, the Servant is deceitful and unjuſt. And though the Mafter does not
or will not take Notice of fuch Neglect, the Neglect and Offence is nevertheleſs in
the Servant; he has not done his Duty, and he is bound to do better for the Time to
come: He was to do his Duty, not in Eye-fervice, but in Singleness of Heart, in all
Sincerity, and fearing God, without Regard had to what Notice his Mafter might
take of his Performances; but remembring what Obligations he lay under by his own
Contract or Agreement, and knowing that he was evermore in God's Sight, who is
the God of Juftice, and who loves Truth and Sincerity. And there is nothing more
likely both to make and keep Servants Good and Careful, than to confider that God
commands them to be fo, and will take Account whether or no they are fo. And
therefore, it fignifies little to diffemble with Mafters, and pay them with Eye-fer-
vice, when God difcerns and fees their Deceit and Falfhood, knows their Hypocrify
and counterfeiting Care and Diligence, when at the Bottom they are truly negligent
and careleſs of their Mafters Bufinefs.
It would not be true, to tell them that every Fit of Idleneſs and Sloth were faulty
before God, and that all Lofs of Time were Sinful; for it is not fo, fomething of
that kind is unavoidable: But they muft needs indulge as little as poffible to them;
it will in Time become a Fault, and lead to Sin, that, feldom practifed, may be
innocent enough; and no way better to prevent it, than remembring, that in the
Main, their Induſtry and Diligence, and Labours are contracted for, and hired out;
and that too great a Waſte and Confumption of Time, either in Negligence, or
minding other Matters than they ſhould, is fo much Lofs and Injury to thoſe, whoſe
Buſineſs fhould employ and take it up. This Principle ſhould be fettled in the Minds
of Servants; but it ſhould be in General, and without Scruple, fo as the Mind ſhould
not be made too nice and tender by it; but fo as to quicken them to make Amends,
by new and greater Care and Diligence at one Time, for what is wanting at another,
by the Surpriſe of Sloth, and Fits of Liftlefnefs; that, in the whole, they may be
fatisfied that they have done no Injury, but will diſcharge the Duty of their Office,
and the Truſt they undertook. This is alfo the Cafe, in great Meaſure, of the hired
Servants; as well as of thofe of the better Sort, who are alfo Servants, but tied with
other Bonds. Theſe ought to know, becauſe they are not always Young, and Heed-
lefs, but of Years, Staidnefs and Experience: They know, or ought to know, that
all the Time and Labour that is due to the Diſcharge of what they undertake, is
certainly theirs, who pay them for it; and therefore are obliged in Reaſon and Juſtice
to give it them. Neither do they want Encouragements to excite their Induſtry and
Labour, for they fubfift by Credit and good Fame; and nothing gives it, or fecures
it, like the being Diligent and Careful, Induftrious and Laborious in their Service.
This appears even by Eye-fervice, which gets them the good Name they ſeek for,
and by which they Live, till they are laid open and diſcovered: The Appearance even
of Care and Induſtry is profitable to them; and therefore, to be fure, the Thing it
ſelf would ſerve them moſt effectually, and recommend them to fuch Favour and
Good-liking as they want in their Condition.
And let them alfo add to all theſe natural Rewards, the Hopes of pleafing God by
fuch their confcientious Induſtry and Labour, and they will want no more Encourage-
ment to ſet about it; and that is certainly the Truth of the Matter: The Promifes
of God's Favour here, and, in due Time, Reward hereafter, are affixed to the Dif
charge of the Duty of Servants, as fully as they are to the Diſcharge of the Duty of
other Relation whatſoever, either Natural or Civil; they ferve the Lord Chrift,
and are adviſed to do what they do, as to the Lord; knowing that of the Lord they fhall
receive the Reward of Inheritance. And this they would do well to keep in conftant
any
Memory;
320
Duty of Servants to Maſters.
Memory; for this will amply Recompence the greateſt Labour, Care, and Induſtry
that they can take. But of this I am to ſpeak at large, when I have ſpoken to
Truth and Faithfulneſs, and other good Qualities that are required of Servants.
DISCOURSE XV.
COLOSSIANS III.
VERSES 22, 23, 24.
Servants, obey in all Things your Mafters according to the Flesh; not
with Eye-fervice, as Men-pleafers, but in Singleness of Heart,
fearing God: And whatſoever you do, do it heartily, as unto the
Lord, and not unto Men: Knowing that of the Lord ye fhall re-
ceive the Reward of the Inheritance; for ye ferve the Lord Chrift.
H
AVING fhewn, that Servants were commanded by God to obey their
Maſters, in all Things, where they were at Liberty by his own Laws, and
by the Laws of their Superiours; and to perform their feveral Contracts and
Agreements, to diſcharge all that they undertook to do, with Care, and Di-
ligence, and Faithfulneſs, and Honeſty; and to be in all Refpects as good Servants, as
they would ſometimes fhew themſelves, and appear to be to their Maſters; knowing
they were always in God's Sight, who will as certainly puniſh falſe and bad Servants,
as he has promiſed to reward the Good and Faithful: I had only Time to fhew the
Servants, that having given their Time and Labour to their Maſters, by Agreement,
for fo much Profit and Advantage, Wages, Keeping, and Protection, as they thought
them Worth, or they could get; they would be unrighteous and unjuſt to waſte
that Time unprofitably, in Idlenefs and Sloth, and to be unreaſonably fparing of
that Labour, that were truly none of theirs, but their, Mafters, who paid them for
them; and added fome few Motives farther to their Diligence and Induſtry, and
Labour. I am now to proceed, and fhew them, that they are alſo to diſcharge their
Duty, and their Undertaking, with all Faithfulneſs and Honefty, with all the
Truth and Juſtice in the World. They are hereby obliged to be as frugal and good
Huſbands for their Maſters, as they can with Innocence and Honefty; and they are
obliged to defraud them of Nothing.
Firſt, Servants are obliged to be as frugal and good Huſbands for their Maſters, as
they can with Innocence and Honefty, becauſe they are to be every way as
uſeful to them as is poffible. This is the End and Intention of all Maſters in enter-
taining Servants: They cannot do all Things neceffary themſelves, therefore they
truſt others to do what is wanting; they cannot always be at Home, and yet their
Buſineſs muſt not be neglected: They cannot always be abroad, and yet their
Buſineſs may require Attendance; therefore they entertain others to ſupply their De-
fects, that nothing may be wanting. But none of all theſe Ends are anſwered,
where Faithfulneſs and Honeſty are wanting: The Maſter's Abſence is not at all fup-
plied, where the Servant does not act as the Maſter would if he were preſent; and
the Maſter ſtays at Home to his Lofs, if his Servant, he employs Abroad, be falfe
and faithlefs. It is therefore evident, that the very Reafon of being entertained as
2
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
321
a Servant, implies a faithful, juft, and honeft Mind, one that can be trufted with
the Maſter's Concerns, and tranfact in his Behalf as far as he permits him to go.
He is to repreſent his Mafter when abfent, and to be as follicitous for his Advan-
tage, as it is prefumed he would himſelf be; and when he is not fo, he fails in
Part of his Duty, he does not fo well diſcharge his Truft as he fhould.
No Servant is to be unjuft, or hard, or unreaſonable in Behalf of his Mafter;
he is not, for his fake, to impofe upon the Ignorance, Simplicity, or want of Skill
of thoſe he deals with: He muſt no more think of recommending himſelf to his
Mafter's Favour by over-reaching and deceiving others, than he muſt deceive or be
unfaithful to his Master: He is bound to be as uſeful to him as he can; but he
muſt continue innocent and honeft himſelf, he muſt reconcile the being ſerviceable
to his Maſter with his own Good. And therefore, no Maſters muſt encourage fuch
a Humour or Miſtake in Servants, by fhewing themſelves pleaſed, or content with any
unjuſt Advantages they may have made in their Abſence; but muft give them leave
to deal no otherwife than they would deal themſelves: They must not countenance
or cheriſh ſuch Proceedings in their Servants, as they would be ashamed of in them-
felves, and would not appear to have a Hand in; becauſe they encourage thereby
Injuſtice in another, and by Connivance make it their own Act and Deed. And
if a Servant be wife, he will, for his own fake; make his Mafter's Rule his Rule of
demanding; for if that fhould be unreaſonable, yet it is none of the Servant's
Fault; he is not guilty of the Hardſhip or Injuftice, it is his Mafter's; whereas,
if Servants take a Liberty to fet a higher Price than their own Maſters fet, who
know their Buſineſs beſt, they may, as it may happen, draw an unneceffary Guilt
upon their own Heads, and be unjuft and exacting to their Mafters Profit, and
their own Hazard: They must therefore be as good Hufbands for their Mafters,
as they can with Innocence and Honeſty be; but no farther.
In the next Place, a Servant is obliged to be as little waſteful and profuſe of his
Maſter's Goods and Subſtance, as is poffible: He is tied to do him all the Good
he can, and therefore, to be fure, no Miſchief: Now all Waſte and Profufion unne-
ceffary, is ſo much Lofs and Damage, and therefore to be avoided; it is juſt ſo much
Injury done to thoſe who fhould be rather profited by them. And to keep them-
felves right in this Matter, let them confider how they would behave themſelves
in Eye-fervice, and whilſt trying to please Men. Let them, in the Abſence of their
Maſters, behave themſelves as carefully and frugally, as they would if they were
prefent; or be as waſteful and profufe under the Sight and Knowledge of their Ma-
ſters, as they are when they are ignorant and abfent, and they may take their Ap-
probation for Confent. But to appear frugal and careful in their Maſters Sight, and
in their Abſence to be wafteful and profuſe, is not only Eye-ſervice and Hypocrify,
but Falſhood and Injuſtice. It is doing their Maſters Miſchief, whilst they believe
they are well ſerved. This is a Matter Servants are not ſo much aware of as they
fhould be: They think it well enough, if they do not directly and plainly defraud
their Maſters of their Money, or their Subſtance; whereas there is little difference
betwixt a luxurious and profuſe Waſte of their Maſters Goods, which is not allowed
them, and defrauding them of fomething pöfitively: The Mafters are fo much
poorer, and are forced to be at ſo much greater Charge, than they expected to be;
the Servants allow themſelves more than the Maſters think they can, or fhould
afford them, and the Mafters pay for that Profufion; and if it be unreaſonable, it
does not want much of a Civil fort of Theft. If indeed it be fo, that a fordid
Spirit will not make fuch Allowance as is fit and reaſonable to be made, it will be
innocent enough to take what is Convenient, though it be reckoned Waste and
Profufion by incompetent Judges; though it were better to forfake fuch Service,
2 Pp
than
322
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
than act againſt the Mafter's Will and Order: But in all fuch Cafes, where there
is no neceffity of this Nature, Waſte and Profufion are faulty, and againſt the Du-
ty of good Servants; it is what they never think fit to diſcover, but diffemble and
conceal; they know it is not pleafing to any Maſter, and confequently know it ought
not to be done by them.
Laftly, All Servants are to be exactly, Juft and Honeft, and neither to take away
their Maſters Money, or their Goods, any farther than they are reaſonably prefumed to
low them. It is of all Thefts the worst, becauſe it carries with it a Breach of Trust:
From Violence and Fraud Men are to guard themſelves with Weapons, and their
Wits; they are to look after themſelves; they are threatned, and are bound to
be aware, and wakeful. But neither of theſe ſort of Robbers have engaged eſpecial-
ly to ferve you Faithfully and Truly, or to do you no Injury, and therefore you
depend not on them; if they ſteal from you, they are only Violent and Unjust, they are
not Falfe and Treacherous: Whereas the Servants, having given their Faith, their
Promiſe and Engagement to be juſt and honeſt, are therefore truſted and employed
by Maſters; and therefore all their Thefts are alfo Treacheries, and are aggravated
by the Truſt that is repofed in them. They are greater Villains than other People
that ſteal more, becauſe they have bound themſelves to be exactly Honeſt, and ſe-
cure their Maſters, to the beſt of their Abilities, from other People, and are the
more confided in on that Account.
If a Servant kill his Mafter, or a Wife her Huſband, or a Prieft his Biſhop, it
is not accounted by the Laws a fimple Murther, but a fort of Treaſon, becauſe theſe
Parties owe Faith and Allegiance to the other: Their Crimes are raiſed proportiona-
bly to the Obligations they lay under to thoſe Superiours, and their Cruelty as great
and provoking, as the Truft and Confidence repofed in fuch Relations was reaſonable
and juft. It is much the fame Thing in leffer Inftances; the Falfhood and Perfidi-
ouſneſs of Friends, Relations, and fuch as are entruſted, raiſes their Injuſtice to as
great a Height, as the Expectation of Faith and Honefty in them had been juſtly
raiſed. And therefore, upon this Account, there is more Wickedness in the Theft
of Servants, than in that of Strangers; becauſe it is (as is evident) accompanied
with Breach of Tuft, Falfhood and Treachery, againſt which there is no guard.
Let therefore Servants, who at any Time find themſelves under the Temptation
of defrauding their Maſters, Miftreffes, or any elfe that truft them, confider but
theſe few Things: First, That the Practice they are about, is evidently in itſelf very
wicked. Secondly, That it is yet more wicked in them, becauſe they are entruſted.
Thirdly, That a Diſcovery of it here, is like to be their Ruin. And, Laftly, That,
whether diſcovered or no, it will lie as a Burthen on the Confcience, and will re-
quire Repentance and Satisfaction: or, without them, be forely puniſhed, and aveng-
ed by God. First, The Practice they are venturing on, is evidently in itſelf wicked:
It is Injuſtice to take from their Mafter what is his, and appropriate it to themſelves,
who have no Right to it. The first Principle of common Honeſty, and indeed of
all humane Converſe, is that which our Saviour hath laid down in St. Matth. vii, 12.
having firſt laid it down in all Men's Hearts, Whatſoever ye would that Men ſhould do
unto you, even fo do to them. Now Theft is a manifeft Violation of this Principle;
it being certain, that no one can be willing that another ſhould either take away, or
detain from him what is his due, and to which the other has no Right. In this
efpecially confifts the Pravity of Theft, as indeed of all other human Acts, the đơ-
ing that to another Knowingly and Willingly, which he believes is grievous and in-
jurious to him, and which he would think unreaſonable to fuffer at the other's Hands:
For here the Man does Miſchief to another, againſt his own Confcience; he de-
frauds his Neighbour of fomething that he likes, and knows at the fame Time he
fhould
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
323
fhould not do fo; which is an Offence against his Brother's Good, and againſt that
Light that God hath placed in him, and every Man, to guide and direct his Practice
by. So that whatever can make an Act wicked, is found in Stealing; and it is not a
Sin only becauſe it is forbidden by God; but it is forbidden by God, becauſe it is di-
rectly a Sin againſt the Good and Quiet of Mankind, and would deſtroy all Right,
and fubvert the Order of the World. As little therefore as People think of it, when-
ever they invade another Man's Right, either privily or openly, by taking away his
Subſtance or his Money, they are undermining and fubverting the Foundation of
every Man's Security, deftroying mutual Truft and Confidence, injuring their Neigh-
bour, finning againſt their own Confcience, and offending againſt both Divine and
Human Laws, and therefore needs must know that they do wickedly. Secondly,
Servants, thus defrauding their Mafters, are yet more wicked than other People do-
ing the fame Things, becauſe they alſo betray a Truft, as I have before fhewn
you. They could not have an Opportunity of doing Miſchief, but by the greateſt
Diffimulation and Treachery imaginable; they counterfeit Juftice, Truth and Ho-
neſty, and other good Qualities, by which they come to be truſted and confided
in, and by this Truſt and Confidence they are enabled to do Miſchief, and do it.
By how much the leſs ſuch Villany is expected from them, fo much more villanous
fuch Practice is in them: But of this before. The Third Thing Servants fhould
confider, when under any Temptations to ſteal, either to fatisfy their covetous De-
fires, or feed their Wantonnefs and Luxury, is this, that a Difcovery of it here is
like to be their Ruin. Their very Livelihood does oftentimes depend upon their
Credit; their Faithfulneſs and Honeſty are better to them, than their Hands and
Feet; and all their Skill and Induftry, their Strength and their Abilities, would figni-
fy little, if they were famed for Falſe and Unjuſt; their other good Qualities would
make them more fufpected and avoided, rather than recommend them to Employ-
ment, if People could not truſt them.
Maſters will bear with many Defects of Skill and Diligence, where they are
fure the Servants are exactly juſt and honeft; but where they know them falfe
and unjust, they will have no Regard to induſtry and labour; becauſe they muſt
be always on the Watch; they muſt be looking ſtill, that what they get them
by their Induſtry and Labour, they ſhould not lofe by their Thievery; they
muſt be always on their guard againſt thoſe, whoſe Buſineſs it is to ſecure them
from thofe Fears. There is nothing fo neceffary to a Servant, as the Reputa-
tion of being juſt and honeft; nothing more certain to undo them, to all in-
tents and purpoſes, than a bad Fame, and the Sufpicion of falſe dealing with
their Mafters: And therefore, if they acted only upon. prudential Confiderations,
and confulted their own Benefit, they fhould of all Things in the World be honeſt;
when a Servant fteals, he undermines the very Ground he ftands upon; thinks he is
only taking ſomething from his Mafter, whilft he is taking away from himſelf the
Means of his own Subfiftence; for when his Frauds are once diſcovered, he is ab-
folutely ruined. It were therefore well, if fuch a Confideration as this were pre-
fent to the Minds of Servants, under their Temptations to injuſtice and deceit: That
there is all the Danger in the World of a Diſcovery of their Thefts, fome Time or
other; and that whenever that is made, they fhall, probably, be undone: And there-
fore, though their Wants and their Defires of what is none of theirs be very
great and preffing, for the prefent, yet had they better go without it, even in point
of Profit; becauſe the Knowledge of fuch Fraud and Theft will quite difable them
from ever making an Advantage more, by making them incapable of farther Ser-
vice; for who will entertain a Thief and Villain? This is fo fure a Confequence
of Falfhood in a Servant, that they have nothing to depend upon, but the Hopes
of lying concealed, and that their Thefts will never be difcovered; which Hopes
are
324
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
↑
are yet ſo often difappointed, that very few, who have for any Time been guilty
of this Practice, do altogether eſcape the Notice of their Maſters: The Reputation
of Servants is fo dear and valuable, that many Mafters will not charge them down-
right with that Sin, who yet are well enough affured themſelves that they are
guilty of it: And others have all Caufe to fufpect, but for prudential Reaſons never
will accufe: And others fee it well enough, but would not irritate too far, and make
their Servants defperate by the Publication; hoping it will proceed no farther, but
that the Grace of God will influence them to honefty and juftice, and they will
fee the Folly and Naughtiness of all fuch Courſes. Few Servants of any Note, or
Continuance, walk fo inviſible and in the Clouds, in any of theſe wicked Practices,
as they imagine; the Eyes of their Superiours are often on them, when they
little think of it. And they will be deceived, if they think that all are ignorant,
who are filent; and that they are fecure and unfufpected, becauſe they are not
charged or accufed. This is the Rule that hired Servants may reaſonably enough
meaſure their Safety by: Theſe Methods of Indulgence and Forbearance would not
be altogether fo difcreetly uſed by Maſters, with reſpect to them who are ſo move
able and fugitive, and ought not to be born with for a Moment in their wicked
Frauds; but they are proper enough with refpect to Servants of a better Rank, and
who are tied by Covenants to abide with them for Years. It is fometimes a Piece
of Charity, to endeavour, by a prudent Connivance and Concealment of their Faults
of this kind, to reclaim them; becauſe the divulging of them is likely enough to
ruin them for ever, either by hardning them in Sin, or taking away their Credit,
fo that they never can be trufted or employed by any other. But this Conceal-
ment is to be fo prudently managed, that it ſhall not by any means encourage them
to proceed in any fuch wicked Ways; it would be well that Light enough ſhould
be let in upon the Servants, to let them fee, it is poffible their Maſters have
fome Notice of their Practice, and yet not enough to convince them, that they
actually know all: The Certainty of being diſcovered, may either harden them,
and make them impudent, or may difcourage them too much, and kill their In-
duſtry and Vigour quite; whereas a light Sufpicion may promote that Induſtry and
Vigour, and give new Life, and fet them on endeavouring, with new Diligence and
Honeſty, to make indeed amends for what is paſt, and to remove all Caufes of Suf-
picion (as the Servants fancy) for the Future: And to the helping on this good De-
fign, the Maſters must not fail of frequently commending to thofe Servants, Faith-
fulneſs and Honefty, and true and juft Proceedings; for, by thefe means, they do
their Duty, and tell the Servants of their Faults at the fame Time.
may
But, Lastly, Let the Servants confider, that whether or no this Diſcovery be
made to Men of their Injuſtice and Falfhood, yet God fees them continually; they
are always open to his Eye; and their falſe Practice will always be a Burthen on
their Conſcience; they muſt repent and make amends, or they will certainly be
puniſhed in the other World: This Confideration would prevent all Frauds and
evil Practices in Servants, and keep them Juft and Honeft. What will it fignify to
conceal your Thefts and Falſhood from your Maſters, and appear Honeſt, when
your own Heart affures you, you are falſe and wicked; and when your Conſcience
tells you, that God, who is to judge you at the laſt Day, knows you exactly; and
that you cannot ſtray, even in a Thought, but he difcerns, and marks it down?
Try to conceal your Falfhood from your felf, and to corrupt your Memory from
giving Evidence againſt you, that you may be at Peace and Quiet whilſt you rob
your Maſter: Uſe all your Art and Diligence to make your felf believe, that what
you
take from him is yours, and that you have a Right and Title to it; that not-
withſtanding you dare not let him fee you take the leaft Sum of Money, or ſmalleſt
Quantity of Goods that is, yet he is willing you ſhould do all that you do, and is con-
fenting
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
325
fenting: Do but try to make theſe Things eaſy to you, before you begin, and
then you will not ſo much Regard whether God fees or no, nor be ſo apprehenfive
of him, if he do.
But it is a Madneſs for you to venture upon ftealing, purely in hopes of lying
hid from one Man's Eyes, when at the fame Time you know your ſelf you are
falfe, and know that God fees and knows fo too; and that the Torment of Guilt
arifes from a Man's own Conſcience, and the Fear of Puniſhment from God's being
Witneſs, as he is to be the Avenger of your fecret Villanies. With the Fruits of
your Injuftice, you may gratify fome vain or wicked Longing for the prefent; but
when that is over, the Mind is immediately concerned, vexed, and difquieted at
what is done; wishes it had been let alone, is afraid of Shame and Diſcovery, and
knows that Fact must be repented of: This is much more uneafy than the Dif
appointment and Denial of thoſe vain Defires had been at firft. To have the Mind
perpetually burthened with the Remembrance of its Guilt, to live under conftant
Reproaches of Confcience, for having wronged and defrauded one's Mafter, who
deſerved no fuch Ufage, muft needs be a greater Trouble, than it could be to have
wanted that Content and Satisfaction which was purchaſed by thofe Thefts. And
therefore, it is but a fad Bargain that a falfe Servant drives, that for fo little Profit
gives away the Peace and Quiet of his Mind. He knows that God fees him, and
knows that he hath threatned to puniſh Falfhood and Injuftice with fevere Puniſh-
ment; yet this he alſo ventures.
He is, and with Reaſon enough, afraid of the
Shame or Puniſhment, that might follow a Diſcovery of his Sins, from his Mafter
here on Earth; but is not terrified enough, even with the Certainty of God's dif
cerning him continually, and Refolution of puniſhing all fuch wicked People. It
were but fit he ſhould be more afraid of him, who can caft both Soul and Body
into Hell-fire.
Theſe are ſome of the Confiderations that would ſtand Servants in the greateſt
ſtead, if they were prefent to their Minds; they would fhew them the Bafe-
nefs and Unworthiness, as well as the Wickedness and Danger of being faithlefs
and diſhoneſt Servants; and that would be the likelieft Means of keeping them juft
and exact. The Third and Laft Thing to be fpoken to, is the Reaſon, Ground,
and Foundation of the Servants paying all Obedience, and due Service to their Ma-
fters; Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the Reward of the Inheritance; for
ye ferve the Lord Chrift. A good Servant may not only promiſe himſelf the Natural,
and the ufual Rewards of an induſtrious, careful, juſt and faithful Service from his
earthly Mafter, and the reft of the World; but alſo the Reward of the Inheritance
at God's Hands, for he ferves the Lord Chrift; one who, in the Form of a Servant,
difdained not to live and die for the meaneft of Mankind; who hath promiſed
God's Favour, both here and hereafter, to fuch as do their Duties in the meaneſt
Stations faithfully and truly; and one who is enabled to perform his Promifes to
them. Good Service does, like other good Performances, pay itſelf in great mea-
fure; it carries its Reward with it; it gains the Favour and Eſteem of all People.
Care and Diligence, and Faith and Honefty, make their Service very acceptable,
and confequently very eaſy to themſelves, and recommend them upon all Occafions:
Thofe good Qualities raiſe them above their Fortune, and give them Reputation and
Good-will, that make amends for the Meanneſs of their Condition. They give
them Credit, moreover, with all that know them; they, who have ferved their
Maſters honeſtly and well, have laid to themſelves a good Foundation for their
own Self-Subfiftence, when they have occafion: The Neighbourhood will remember
ftill their Diligence and Honefty, and promote their Good, by giving a good Re-
port
of them; they will be forwarded by all, and trufted more than others of
2 Qq
greater
326
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
greater Skill, and deeper Infight. Faithfulneſs and Honefty give Servants better Cre-
dit, than Induſtry and Labour; becauſe that People naturally expect a Bleffing
ſhould attend them; they think, and not without fome Reaſon, that God is intereſt-
ed in their Favour and Behalf; they will rather leave room for Providence, and truft
to honeſty and juſtice, than favour the Skilful and Induſtrious, although they know
no harm by them, but are not certain of the other good Qualities: But when
they are all joined, there is then no Queftion of their doing well.
Theſe are Confiderations that may help to alleviate their Misfortunes, and make
their Condition eaſy to them. And, in truth, it is fo well and wifely ordered by
God, that every Condition of Life has fomething to make it not only tolerable,
but comfortable enough, if People be not wanting to themſelves; but will be Care-
ful, Honeft and Religious, and diſcharge the Duties of it as they ſhould. The
State of Servitude is accounted the Meaneft and the moſt Miferable of all others:
but yet it is to be made eaſy, though not eligible. Servants may have more of the
Labours of Life, but then they have lefs of the Cares, than other People; their
Bodies are more fatigued and exerciſed, but their Minds are lefs perplexed: They
are only concerned in one Matter, to do the Work that lies before them, whilſt
others have a World of Things to think on, and look after. They have their Ma-
fters only to pleaſe; their Maſters, may be, are to court and humour all they deal
with: They, generally ſpeaking, have themſelves alone to provide for; their Ma-
ſters have Wives and Children, and Relations. Whatever Scarcity or Dearneſs hap-
pens, they find but little Alteration; whatever publick Miſchiefs oppreſs a Nation,
they feel but little of them: Changes of Government affect not them, that, may
be, quite undo and overthrow their Maſters: They contribute little to the ſupport-
ing of the Publick, pay no Rates nor Taxes; lofe no gainful Employments, fuffer
nothing by the Malice, or Infolence of Parties, undergo no Odium, Calumny or
Slander: In a Word, they are leſs diftreffed and itraitned, fuffer lefs Hardſhips and
Misfortunes, than any fort of People elfe above them. Theſe are Conveniencies
that generally attend Servants of the loweſt Condition; and which they would do
well to reflect on, now and then, as well to keep them the more Eaſy, as to make
them the more Thankful, and that they might the better difcern the Kindneſs of
God's Providence in ordering Matters fo, that, with theſe Advantages, their Con-
dition, however mean and low it is to all Appearance, is yet upon the Square, for
Eafe and Happineſs of Mind, with that of many of their Maſters.
But when, to all theſe natural Rewards, and theſe Advantages, fome of them
uſual, and ſome infeparable from their Condition of Life, we alſo add the Reward
of their Inheritance promiſed by God to the Careful and Induftrious, the faithful,
juft, and honest Diſcharge of the Duty of Servants, there can be nothing wanting
to excite them to a due Performance of it.
Let them, therefore, for their Comfort and Encouragement, think upon thefe
Things. The State of Servitude is abfolutely neceffary, by the Order and Appoint-
ment of the wiſe Creator and Diſpoſer of all Things: The World could not be go-
verned and maintained without it; and it is fallen to their Share, to be inftrumen-
tal to the publick Good in that Station; not for their own, nor for the Sins of their
Fathers, but by that Uncertainty of Affairs that God, for wife and good, but un-
diſcovered Reaſons, permits to be in the World: It is no Token of his Anger and
Diſpleaſure, for he is willing they ſhould avoid and fly that Fortune by their In-
duſtry and Care; and bleffes them with Opportunities, and gives them the fame
Abilities, and natural Faculties, he gives the Governors and Princes of the World:
It is not, therefore, any Sign of his Diſpleaſure, that they are born, or became Ser-
; but ſo it happens, that they are ſo, and may free themſelves from being ſo
vants
as
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
327
as foon as they can : He only commands them, that whilft they continue fo, they
ſhould behave themſelves as becomes their Condition, with all Submiffion and all
Humility, with all Obedience, Diligence and Induſtry, with Truth and Juſtice,
Faithfulneſs and Honefty; which will make their Condition eafy to themſelves,
and cauſe them to be well ferved by others, whenever they emerge and get above it.
But to fhew how acceptable it is to him, and (becauſe it is fo neceffary and uſeful
to the World) to encourage it, he promiſes, that they, who behave themſelves well
in this Life, as Servants, fhall be looked upon, and treated as Children, in the Life
to come; they ſhall have the Reward of Inheritance, which is, what properly be-
longs to God's Children. They may make themſelves as happy as they can in this
World, and the doing their Duty well is the moſt likely means of being fo, But
however that happen, God will not fail of making them Happy hereafter; if they
perform their Duty here, he will reward their Labours with eternal Reſt and Quiet,
and their Faith and Honeſty with Rewards that never fail; they ſhall be happy in
the glorious Liberty of the Sons of God, whatever Hardſhips, Trouble and Uneafi-
nefs they undergo, whatever want of Neceffaries or Conveniencies they fuffer
whatever Severities or cruel Inflictions they endure here, by the undue Rigour of their
Maſters and Superiours; there they ſhall have Amends and Satisfaction made them
in moſt ample Manner: When once their Service is accompliſhed, they ſhall receive
double at the Lord's Hands for all their Sufferings, and their undeferved Misfortunes.
Let them ſupport themſelves, under the Worſt of their Condition, with this Hope
and Expectation, and make it but a reafonable Hope, and a well-grounded Expecta-
tion, by diſcharging their Duty carefully and honeftly as they ſhould, and then
they will live eafily; they will have the Earneſt of Heaven in a good Confcience
before-hand, and Live and be more Happy than their Mafters, if they are not alſo
good Men.
OB
There are two Things in this Divine Conduct worthy the Remarking: First,
That no Duty of Life, if well diſcharged, will go without Reward: It is not
enough, that to be a good Relation in all refpects, will make Men happy natural-
ly, if all the World would do their Duty; for if all Men did their Duty to each
other, all Men would be Happy: But becauſe ſome People will be Fooliſh and Un-
reaſonable, fome Ill-natured and Perverſe, ſome obftinately Wicked and Unjuſt;
and by theſe means a great many Duties be neglected, flighted and defied, to the
great Damage and Miſchief of others, to their Misfortune and great Suffering;
and that it is but natural, and feems reaſonable, for one Party to neglect and omit
the Duty which they owe to others, when they can fee no tolerable Returns of what
Duty is due to them from others: Becauſe of this, becauſe that ſuch Omiffions and
Neglects are prejudicial to the Peace and Welfare of the World, God promiſes Re-
wards in another Life to the faithful and religious Difchargers of their Duties
here, that will make amends for what is denied them here by Men's Unreaſonable-
neſs or Malice, their Ingratitude or their great Wickedneſs; ſo that no one need to
be diſcouraged now, as though his Labours would be in Vain. Good Subjects may
have lawleſs Governours, and good Children unnatural Parents, and good Wives un-
kind and faithleſs Huſbands, and good Servants hard and unreaſonable Maſters: And
ſo on the other Hand, theſe ſeveral Superiours may have their correſponding Inferi-
ours all as naught: But the Good of Mankind requires, that all theſe mutual Duties
ſhould be well performed; and yet to do Good for Evil, is a huge Difcouragement,
and all theſe Duties would not be performed, unleſs Men had a hopeful Proſpect
of fome Recompence, fomewhere or other, to excite them to diſcharge them, and
fupport them whilſt fo doing. This Proſpect God lays open to all the World, by gi-
ving them the hopes of Heaven; that happy Country, of which, they who will be
་
his
328
Duty of Servants to Mafters.
his Children, in Obedience, fhall, for Reward thereof, be made Inheritors, and
Heirs for ever.
The other Thing worthy Remark, is this, that whatever Difference and Diſtinction
God commands or permits to be amongſt Men, yet the greateſt Favours and Bleffings,
the trueft Dignities and Honours are common to all; and thofe are Graces and Vir-
tues here, and Happineſs in Heaven hereafter. All Men cannot poffibly be Great
and Honourable, nor be poffeffed of Places of Advantage; all Men never can be
rich; all Men cannot be Governours and Maſters, nor great Traders, nor remarkable
in any Faculty: But all Men may be Juft and Honeft, Virtuous and Religious;
all Men may live in God's Favour in this World, and may thereby be Happy in
the other: All Men cannot have Houſes or Lands, Eftates and Honours here; but
all
may have their everlafting Dwellings, Houfes not made with Hands, eternal in
the Heavens. All Men may be Partakers of thofe Bleffings, which God, who
knows us beft, knows fitteft for us; which he affures us are the trueft Bleffings,
which make and keep us Happieſt here, and which he has defigned to Crown us with
hereafter. This is no little Thing for Servants to confider, that however Mean and De-
fpicable their Condition may appear in the Sight of Men; yet that, in God's Eyes,
who underſtands the Value of his Creatures beft, they are of equal worth with the
Great and Noble; that he has given them Bodies full as beautiful and uſeful, Fa-
culties of Mind as fine and good; made them as capable of being Virtuous, and
exercifing Graces, has redeemed them by the fame precious Blood of Chriſt, open-
ed the fame Gates of Heaven, and prepared for them the fame Glory. Only they
muſt behave themſelves wifely and well in their Condition, and as becomes thoſe
that ferve the Lord Chrift, i. e. who profefs themſelves Chriftians. He is the com-
mon Maſter of the whole World, and it is to him his Servants muſt look
up: Him
they muſt firſt and principally obey; and, under him, their ſeveral Maſters and
Superiours, as he gives them Order and Command: It is he to whom the Father has
committed all Power; the Difpenfation of Rewards and Puniſhments is in his Hands;
and it is by his Commands and Rules, that he will judge the World in Righteouſneſs:
Accordingly as Men obey his Laws, and diſcharge the feveral Duties of this Life,
in their diſtinct Relations, they ſhall fare in the other, whether they be High or Low,
Great or Small, Rich or Poor, Bond or Free, Mafter or Servant; for with him there
is no respect of Perſons.
>
DISCOURSE XVI.
COLOSSIANS IV. VERSE I.
Mafters, give unto your Servants that which is juft and equal, know-
ing that ye alfo have a Mafter in Heaven.
S
T. Paul, in delivering the Duties that Superiours owe to their Inferiours, is
very careful to preſerve the Decorum of Things; and generally uſes ſuch
Terms as might ſeem to imply, that the Diſcharge of their Part is a Matter
of mere Grace and Favour, rather than of Debt or Juftice: Rulers are not a
Terror to good Works, but to the Evil. Hufbands, love your Wives. Fathers, provoke
not
}{
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
329
not your Children to Wrath. Mafters, give unto your Servants that which is Just and
Equal. Whereas, to all Inferiours he fpeaks in a commanding louder Tone, Let
every Soul be fubject to the higher Powers: Wives fubmit your felves to your own Huf
bands: Children obey your Parents in all Things; and Servants obey your Masters in
all Things. But yet it would be a wrong Inference, that any one ſhould make from
hence, that therefore St. Paul intends to bind Inferiours to their Duties clofelièr
and ſtronglier than Superiours to theirs; for his Purpofe is to bind them both alike
to the Diſcharge of all they owe: Only, the Nature of their feveral Duties requires
a different Carriage and Behaviour in the Manner of difcharging them; and in-
deed, the Way and Manner is fometimes Part of the Duty.
There is nothing more certain than that Superiours are obliged as much in Rea-
fon and Juſtice, and by God's Commands, to diſcharge what they owe to their
Inferiours, as Inferiours are to diſcharge what they owe to their Superiours. For
every Relation being built, and depending on a Contract, either ſuppoſed in Na-
ture and Reaſon, or actually agreed upon and made betwixt the Parties related,
upon what Terms they found Convenient; it muſt needs be, that each Party is
equally obliged to perform his Part of the Contract, upon which the Relation
ftands For Juftice and Religion know no Difference of Parties or Relations; with
Them (as with their everlaſting Fountain) there is no Reſpect of Perſons: They
only have Regard to what the Agreement is, and how it is performed. Thefe
Things have been fully fpoken to, in confidering the feveral Relations People ſtand
to one another in; and therefore, having urged the Duty of Servants to their Ma-
fters, from Reaſon and God's Commands, it is but fit the Mafters ſhould be put in
Mind of what they owe their Servants, and that I chooſe to do from the Words
of St. Paul in the Text; Mafters, give unto your Servants that which is Just and
Equal, knowing that ye also have a Mafter in Heaven. In which Words we have to
confider, First, What is to be understood by Juft and Equal. Secondly, The Rea-
fon here affigned, why Maſters ſhould give to their Servants that which is Juſt
and Equal; and that is, the Knowledge they have, that they also have a Maſter in
Heaven.
;
It is not indeed neceffary,
fame Senfe and Signification
First, What is to be understood by Juft and Equal.
that when two or more Epithets of pretty near the
are attributed to one and the fame Thing or Perfon, there ſhould be a different
Senſe fought out for each Epithet: The Scriptures ufe a great many Words to fig-
nify the fame Thing, but to fignify it with more Force, and to make the deeper
Impreffion on the Mind of the Reader; and fo do all other Books as well as
that and fo do all Men in their common Converſation, and cannot poffibly
avoid it: It does not fignify that they intend to fay different Things, when
they ſay that fuch a one is an Honest and a Good Man; they make no Dif-
ference in their Minds betwixt an Honest and a Good Man, but they would only
have it believed that he is either; and either of them ferves their turn; and
the uſing of both, is only to fhew they are in earneſt. And fo there is no
abfolute Neceffity, that to deal justly and equally, fhould fignify different Things,
but only very justly or very equally: But if there be any Difference intended by
St. Paul, then it may be reaſonable to think, that when Maſters are bidden to be
juſt, or to give that which is juſt to their Servants, they are bidden to give them that
which is theirs by Contract and Agreement, that which is due in Law, as being
bargained for, upon fuch and fuch Terms: And when they are bidden to give them
that which is equal, they are bidden to deal fairly, honeſtly, and kindly with them,
to give them what is their due in Reaſon and Conſcience, although they have not
formally contracted with them; to uſe them as well as other People, merciful and
juft, are fuppofed to use theirs, and as well as it may be fuppofed the Servants
2 Rr
would
•
330
Duty of Masters to Servants.
would have agreed for, had they fufpected otherwiſe: In a Word, to look upon
themſelves as much obliged in Reafon and Confcience, as they would be by Bond
and folemn Contract.
It is plain, there may be a great deal of Difference betwixt Juftice and Equity,
if Men fo pleaſe: Whilft they make their Contracts and Agreements the Meaſure
of Justice; and Reaſon and Confcience the Rule of determining what is equal. In
this Difference, we may well confider the Duty of Mafters as fomewhat different.
in being just, and being equal: And first, they are commanded to be just, to ſtand
to their Agreements, to give their Servants what they have contracted for, whether
it be Inftruction, Wages, Maintenance or Cloathing, or whatever elfe is bargained
for. Undoubtedly, whatever is agreed for, is in Juſtice due; and therefore, what-
foever Information or Inftruction is requifite to qualify a Servant for the Calling and
Profeffion he pretends to, is to be given him, as his due, and cannot be with-holden
from him; it is the End which Servants of that fort propofe and aim at, and the
very Reaſon of putting themſelves into a State of Servitude: It is that for which eſpe-
cially they Contract; for which they give their Money, Time, and Labour; and
therefore it is a Piece of great Injustice, to conceal the Skill that properly belongs
to them, and is to make them Mafters of their Calling: They cannot answer to
their Contract, without the letting their Servants into the full Knowledge of their
Bufinefs, according to the Meafure of their Underſtanding and Capacity; it is as
much their due, as their daily Food, and detained with equal, if not greater Injury.
A Maſter therefore is both faithlefs and unjuſt, that either, through Deſign, Envy
or Careleffneſs, fuffers his Servant to continue ignorant and unfkilful in the Way
of his Profeffion, which he agreed and covenanted to make him underſtand; he
breaks his Covenant, and anſwers not his Truft, by keeping back the Skill that is
neceſſary to make his Servant what he aims at. The Servant is all the while de-
ceived, and lofes the only Thing he bargained for, expected, and defired, and for
which he pledged his Faith and Service. This is one way of refufing to give to
Servants that which is Juft, and that a very great and mischievous one.
Another is of denying them their Wages, the with-holding back the Price and
Reward of their Service, that which they bargained and agreed for; which is as
much the Servant's due, as any Thing the Maſter has is his own; he has already
paid for it, and to defraud him of it, is to rob him of juſt as much. It is indeed
in the Maſter's keeping, but it is no more his, than any Stranger's: The Maſter fold
it for ſo much Time and Labour, as the Servant and he agreed for, which being paid
for by the Servant's Work, it is then his own. A Mafter may as well agree for
Goods with any Cuſtomer, and receive the Price of them beforehand, and after
that detain the Goods alfo, as take his Servant's Time and Labour firft, and then
deny him his appointed Wages. There is nothing plainer, and better understood,
than the Reaſonableness and Juſtice of ſtanding to Agreements, fuch eſpecially as
were deliberately made, and which have been performed without Fraud on the
one Part; and yet there is Reaſon to think this Part of Juſtice is very ill practiſed
by many
Maſters to their Servants, as if they did not owe the fame to them, as
to their Betters. Some fuch idle Fancy muft poffefs them, that Superiours are not
equally obliged by contracting with Inferiours, as they are with Equals; for other-
wife they would be as juſt to Servants, as to any one elſe. That which may
make one eafily conjecture thus, is, that the higher we go, the better Quality and
Faſhion People are of, the more they are obferved to offend againſt this Part of
Juſtice, the leſs Regard they have to the Diſcharge of what is due by Contract to
their Servants. So that that, which ſhould be both to their Honour and Advan-
tage (the ferving great People) turns to their greater Lofs and Miſchief; they are
thereby
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
331
thereby only more injured and oppreffed: For this additional Guilt the Honour and
great Quality of Maſters add to Injustice, that they make it alſo Oppreffion. It is
Injustice to deny what is the Servant's due; but when the Servants cannot, by the
legal common Courfes, obtain that due, through the great Power and Titles of
their Maſters, then are they alfo oppreffed as well as wronged. It were fome Shame
to ſay, that either Law, or Cuſtom ſhould encourage, or ſhould juſtify Oppreffion;
for Juftice is to fit the Higheft in the World.
It might contribute to the doing this Sort of Juftice, to confider, that they who
are backwardeft to do it, are commonly the Worſt ſerved; they are often met with,
though in a very faulty Manner: For whilft the Servants live with them, they com-
monly live upon them; i. e. they find out ways to pay themfelves with Intereſt
but it is by Frauds and Villanies, by allowing great Rates to fuch as deal with
them, by being Ill-huſbands for them, by going Shares with thofe that gain from
them, and by a World of little Courſes that are falfe and wicked: One Injuftice
begets another: And though an unjuſt Maſter will not excufe a falfe and wicked
Servant, yet he oft Occafions it, by fhewing him the Way, and putting him upon
fome kind of Neceffity of living by fuch Shifts: And therefore the fureft Way of
being well ferved, is to be very juſt, to ſtand exactly to Agreements, and to give
them their own; that makes them diligent and faithful, and gives them no Temp-
tation to be otherwife: Whereas, when that which of Right belongs to them is
denied them, they first imagine they may do themſelves Juftice, and then, by De-
grees, they give themſelves great Reparations. Thus, by being ill ufed, they be-
come wicked. Againſt this Injustice, God, in the Scriptures, gives Men frequent
warning. Thus in Lev. xix. 13. and Deut. xxiv. 14. Thou shalt not oppreſs an hired
Servant, that is poor and needy, whether he be of thy Brethren, or of thy Strangers
that are in thy Land within thy Gates. At his Day thou shalt give him his Hire,
neither ſhall the Sun go down upon it; for he is poor, and jetteth his Heart upon it,
left he cry against thee to the Lord, and it be Sin unto thee. The Hardſhip is indeed
the greater, in detaining the Wages of poor Men who daily fubfift by their Labours;
but the Injuſtice is the fame, whether you bargain by the Day or Year, in detain-
ing their Hire from them. So in Jer. xxii. 13. Woe unto him that buildeth his
Houfe by Unrighteoufness, and his Chambers by Wrong; that ufeth his Neighbours Ser-
vice without Wages, and giveth him not for his Work. Undoubtedly, this Woe be-
longs to all that defraud their Servants of their Wages, for they are Neighbours in
the Scripture Senſe of that Word; and they receive the Profit and Advantage of
their Work and Service, and therefore ought to pay them for the fame. So faith St.
James, v. 4. Behold, the Hire of the Labourers, who have reaped down your Fields,
which is of you kept back by Fraud, crieth; and their Cries have entred into the
Ears of the Lord of Sabbaoth. The keeping back the Hire of other, and all Labourers,
as well as Reapers, will cry unto God, and enter into his Ears; the Cruelty and Injuſtice
is all alike, and the Offence the fame: And therefore they, who make Conſcience of
paying the Day-labourers, ſhould alſo know they are obliged to deal as juftly by their
Menial-fervants, who alfo labour for them Day by Day. It is the fame Cafe with Food
and Rayment, with any Profit or Convenience that the Servant has contracted for; it is
in Juſtice due to him, and muſt not be with-holden from him. When he has earned
it, it is his, and his Inability of recovering it, by Might, or Law, makes it not leſs
his due, than if he were actually poffeffed of it. And the Injuſtice of detaining from
Inferiours, weak and helpless, is raiſed and aggravated by that Confideration, be-
cauſe there is Infolence and Unmercifulneſs joyned with it. When they havë
nothing to oppofe or anſwer to the Right and Justice of the Servants and Inferiours
Claim, they have recourfe to Power and Might; they are richer, greater, and have
:
more
1
332
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
more Friends and Intereft, and by their help they trample over Juftice: Nothing
can betray a worfer Mind than this, to opprefs the Weak and Helpleſs, either be-
cauſe they are ignorant of the Means of recovering their Dues, or unable to go
through the Trouble, or bear the Charge of doing it: This is to take the Advan-
tage of Mens Weaknefs, which ought much rather to provoke their Pity and Com-
paffion, and make them Friends and Patrons,
Theſe, and whatever elſe Particulars are due to Servants by Contract and Agree-
ment, may well be thought meant and intended by St. Paul, when he commands
the Maſters to give to their Servants that which is Juft.
The other Part of what he commands, is to give them that which is Equal, i. e.
to deal fairly, honeftly, and kindly with them, to give them that which is their
due in Reafon and Confcience, although they have not formally contracted for it:
And this may include all the Particulars abovementioned, which were due in Juftice,
and recoverable by the Force of Law; for a Man may be as unjuft in detaining
that which the Law would not compel him to deliver, as that which it would
force from him, and give to the true Owner. It is the Reafon and Benefit of the
Contract, that makes it at firſt binding, and obliges the Confcience to make it good,
before the Penalty of Laws come to be confidered: If one Man borrows Mo-
ney of another, he knows he is obliged in Confcience to repay him, although he is
not under formal Bonds to do it; the Benefit he receives he knows is naturally con-
ditional, and requires the being anſwered in the like kind, which he on his Part pro-
miſes, and the other expects: The Bond, that afterwards fucceeds, is to conſtrain
him to do that Juftice, which his own Confcience told him he muſt do, without
Conftraint. It is therefore evident, that where the Reafon and Benefit of a Con-
tract appear, there the Conſcience is equally obliged to ftand to it, and make it good.
as if it were never ſo formally made in Words, and tied by Penalties: For tho' all
Contracts naturally fuppofe mutual Promiſes and Engagements, yet the Bottom and
Foundation of thoſe Promiſes is the Senſe of ſome Benefit received, or the Hope
and Preſumption of fome to be received; and therefore that is the Obligation at the
Bottom. And therefore, there is a prefumed Contract, wherever the beneficial Ef-
fects of one appear, although there be no formal one actually made. If therefore a
Maſter receive the Advantage of his Servant's Time and Labour, he is obliged in Con-
ſcience to make him a fufficient Recompence, although there were no Bargain for-
mally made between them: This the Conſcience fays is equal, becauſe the Reaſon
and Benefits of a Contract vifibly appear. This Rule is not only applicable to Ma-
fters with regard to their Servants, but indeed to all Mankind with refpect to one
another. The Mind may be in Chains and Fetters, where the Body is, and muſt
be free; the Conſcience often is obliged, where the Forms of Juftice can take no
hold on him, ſo that there are more Priſoners than we fee or think of: Many that
walk at Liberty, and ſeem to be as free as the Air they breath in, that yet know
within themſelves, that they are truly Priſoners, and due to Juſtice, though they
elude it by fome Slight or Falfhood. They know they are obliged in Reaſon and
Juſtice, and good Confcience, to diſcharge a great many Debts, which yet no
Evidence, no Judge or Jury can extort from them: Their Credit, may be, was fo
great, that they gave no Bond: Their reputed Honefty was fuch, that Men were
glad to deal with them upon their own Terms: Or elfe they mortgaged doubly,
gave falfe Security, or fo contrived their Obligations, that they ſhould be infigni-
ficant when tried. The Juftice of the Laws purſues with Hatred and Abhorrence
all theſe wicked Proceedings; but the Subtilty of wicked and defigning People is too
much for them; they triumph in her Weakneſs and their own Skill, and in con-
tempt of her, walk at great Liberty: But it is the Liberty of Body only; for the
Mind is all that while in Bonds, and knows its Obligations, knows what is truly
juſt
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
333..
juſt and equal, with reſpect to Reaſon and Conſcience, however it eſcapes the Cog-
nizance or Penalties of Laws.
But by Equal is alſo to be underſtood fuch Ufage and Treatment as is fair, good-
natured, and humane; to make their Lives as eafy as we can, confiftently with the
Performance of their Duty, and our Buſineſs; and therefore not to purſue them
with perpetual Contumely and Reproach, nor uſe them as we do our Beafts of Bur-
then. It is one of the worſt ways in the World of fhewing our Superiority, by gi-
ving ill Language, and Words that become no body to receive. The Condition of
Servitude is of itſelf grievous enough, without the additional Evil of being, on all
Occafions, treated with Contempt and Scorn: And if the Truth were known, the
Service is not the better performed for fuch perpetual Chidings and Upbraidings,
eſpecially in fo unfeemly a manner. The Nature of our Country is not fo vile
and difingenuous, as always to want fuch galling Spurs, and ſharp Excitements to
the Performance of the Servants Duties. Good Words at leaft fhould be the firſt
Experiment that all Superiours ſhould make, and be as long continued as they can,
they are ſo handſome and becoming reaſonable and religious People; and to be fure
thoſe Servants that perform their Duty, do it better with good Words, and live more
comfortably; and without doubt thoſe Means are fitteſt to be uſed, that beſt attain
their End, with the Eafe and Pleaſure of both Parties.
To this Comfort of good Words, muſt alſo be added good Uſage; Maſters muſt
not be over-rigorous in their Puniſhments, when Servants are faulty, but ſhould in-
flict them with Deliberation, good Intention, and Compaffion. Anger produces of-
ten fad Effects, even where it prompts the Parents to correct the Children; and there-
fore muſt be carefully attended to, where that Affection is not preſent to reſtrain
them from exceeding the Bounds of Moderation: This is alfo to give them what is
Equal. The Maſters owe their Servants Admonition and Reproof, when they are
found faulty, and Puniſhments proportioned to their Guilt. To this Moderation,
Maſters alſo are to have Regard in their Commands and Impofitions; they muſt
not opprefs them with immoderate Tasks and Labour, but are to have a merciful
Reſpect to the Capacity, Ability and Strength of Servants. It was one Occafion
of the Inſtitution of the Sabbath to the Jews, that Servants might be relieved, and
not confume a miferable Life in conftant and continued Labours.
It is true, that the Servant's Time and Labour are the Mafter's, and he is to give
them to no one's Uſe beſides: But yet they are to be exacted with Equity and Rea-
fon. Men muft not wear out the Heart, nor make all waſte they can of what is
truly let out to them, although it be not exprefly covenanted againſt; becauſe it is
prefumed in Reaſon and good Senſe, that others are to fucceed in the Poffeffion of
thoſe Lands. A Servant is not fo to be confumed with Toil, as to be made unfit for
other, or for farther Service: He is not prefumed to conſent to fuch a Bargain,
though all his Time and Labour ſtill belongs to his Mafter. They are therefore
very much to blame, that have no Confideration of their Servants, that never think
they do enough, but are continually charging them with new Tasks, without any
Reſt or Intermiffion: This is not dealing equally with them.
But furthermore, under this Head may well be comprehended all other Care that
is fit to be taken of them, both in their Health and Sickneſs; the giving them good
Advice, and ſetting them a good Example, affording them Opportunities of ferving
God, both at home and abroad; the Inftructing them according to their Leiſure and
Abilities in the common Rules of Honefty and Juftice, Truth and Faithfulneſs
exciting them to Diligence and Induſtry, and encourageing them therein; and, in
a Word, to make them Virtuous and Religious, that they may be as uſeful in the
World as they can; and to fee, in Cafe of Sickneſs, that they want not what is
2 S f
fitting
334
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
:
fitting their Condition: Theſe are Courſes that are likely to make good Servants,
and to encourage fuch as are fo, and to oblige them to ferve their Mafters with the
greateſt Care and Affection poffible; there being none of fo low and abject a Spirit,
but who will ſtrive to make Amends for kind, good-natured Uſage.
All theſe Particulars may well be understood to be injoyned by St. Paul, when
he would have the Maſters give their Servants that which is just and equal.
The Reaſon here affigned, why they ſhould do ſo, is next to be confidered; and
that is, knowing that ye alfo have a Mafter in Heaven. To make which Words a
binding Reaſon to Mafters, they are to contain either a Promiſe of Encourage-
ment to fuch as give to their Servants that which is just and equal, or Threatning to
fuch as fhall neglect the doing it. And confidering who this Mafter is, the Lord
Chrift; he that ſhall judge the Quick and Dead, with whom there is no refpect of
Perfons, who is to puniſh and reward: Confidering this, it is certain that the Words
intend them both; namely, an Encouragement to thoſe that ſhall comply with the
Command, and Threatning to fuch as fhall neglect it. As they contain an En-
couragement, they may be underſtood thus: Mafters, give to your Servants that
which is just and equal, knowing, or remembring, that ye have also a Master in Hea-
ven: One from whom you expect the juſt Performance of all thoſe great and precious
Promiſes, which, of his Grace and Goodneſs, he at any Time hath made to you:
And one from whom you look for all the Mercies, and Benefits, both Temporal
and Spiritual, that are either fit for him to give, or for you to receive: And one
who hath promiſed to be a bounteous Mafter to all his faithful and obedient Ser-
vants, to ſhew Mercy to fuch as fhew Mercy to others: He took upon himſelf the
Form of a Servant, and lived a mean precarious Life, depending, for ought that
appears, upon the Charity and Friendſhip of good People for his Subfiftence, and
on the Entertainments his Doctrine gained him; and therefore hath exempted that,
and mean Condition, from Contumely and Reproach among
and every other poor
Chriſtians, and made them rather, for his fake, Objects of great Pity and Compaf-
fion. Behold, faith our Saviour, I am among you, as he that ferveth, not only to give
his Diſciples an Example of Humility and Condeſcending, now and then, on juft
Occafions, below their outward State and Quality, when it is to be ſerviceable to one
another; but to fanctify all Conditions of Life, and to fhew the World, that God
looks not with Man's Eyes, that he has no refpect to Perfons, that he regards
not Birth and Fortune, Quality and Title; but that the meanest People in the
World are acceptable with him, if they obey his Laws, and do his Will: That
it is Goodneſs, Virtue and Religion, that recommend Men to his Favour, and no-
thing elſe, of which the Poor and Servants of this World are full as capable, as the
Rich and Mighty, and moſt honourable Mafters. And as he hath made them Par-
takers of the fame Grace here, and capable of the fame Glory hereafter, fo he
commands them to be treated here with all the Mercy and Humanity that their
Condition is capable of receiving; upon this Principle, no doubt, that all the
World fhould be as happy as they can: And this is that, that every ſingle Perfon
in the World ſhould govern himſelf by, to make each fingle Creature in the
World as eafy and as happy as he can, in the Condition he is in; not to moleſt,
afflict, or injure any one; but to do all Juſtice, and to fhew all Mercy we are able,
confiftent with our own Benefit, and that of thoſe to whom we are more immedi-
ately related. Our Mafter, that is in Heaven, hath, by his Laws, confulted better
the Eafe and Benefit of all Inferiour Relations of Men, than either Jewish, Greek
or Roman Lawgivers have ever done; their Condition is much more happy under
Chriſtianity, than any other Diſpenſation. The State of Subjects under their Princes,
the Subjection of Wives to their Husbands, of Children to their Parents, of
Servants
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
335
Servants to their Mafters, is abundantly more eafy by the Rules and Principles of
that Religion, than to any People elfe, i. e. Chriftianity hath provided better for
their Eafe and Comfort, if thofe that are concerned will follow its Directions.
Chriſtianity does not barely leave theſe Things to the Civil Laws and Cuſtoms of
the Country, but it gives new Orders in their Favour; where Laws and Customs
are unrighteous, cruel, and unreaſonable againſt them, it mitigates them, and com-
mands its Profelytes to change them for good-natured, juſt, and reaſonable one's
In a Word, Chriſtianity is the beſt Religion that ever was, for the Good of Man-
kind; it beſt ſecures the Rights and Honours, Privileges and Advantages of all
Superiours, and beſt confults the Eafe and Happineſs of all Inferiours, by the moſt
ftrict and indifpenfable Obligations it lays on all Men, to be exceeding juft and
merciful, and to difcharge their feveral Duties to each other with the utmoſt Care
and Faithfulneſs that can be. And this is does, beyond all other Difpenfations,
by Promiſes of Grace and Favour here, and mighty Recompences in the World
to come, of which our Lord and Mafter is to be the Judge and fole Difpenfer.
This End it alfo aims at, and purfues, by the Threatnings of the greateſt Pu
niſhment to ſuch as fhall neglect their ſeveral Duties; for that is alfo implied in
the Words of the Text, Knowing that ye also have a Mafter that is in Heaven. Do
what becomes you to your Servants; give them that which is juft and equal, re-
membring that ye alfo have a Maſter in Heaven, that Commands
you fo to do, and
who will alſo, one Day, take Account how ye have done it. With this your Ma-
fter there is no reſpect of Perfons; the Bond and Free are all alike to him; the
meaneft Servant is as dear to him, as the moft honourable Mafter: All fhall be
judged alike, and moſt impartially: The falfe and difobedient Servants fhall be
puniſhed, and ſo ſhall all unjuſt and cruel Mafters.
Now what can fhew the Excellence and Ufefulneſs of the Chriſtian Religion bet-
ter, than the Care it takes to fecure the Happineſs of all the World, by fecuring
the Duties of all Relations, Natural and Civil, by fuch Rewards and Puniſhments?
Be but a juſt and good Prince, and you ſhall be beloved and feared by all your
Sub-
jects; be an obedient Subject, and you ſhall live fecure; if not, expect the Rods,
and Axes. Be a good Father, and you ſhall have obedient Children, and receive
great Comfort from them: Be a good Son, and you ſhall be beloved by your Pa-
rents, and all that know you: Be diſobedient and rebellious, and you ſhall be re-
jected, difinherited, impriſoned, and, it may be, puniſhed farther. Be a good Huf-
band, and you ſhall live eafily, and be beloved and honoured by your Wife; be
an unkind or falſe one, and you ſhall be hated and ill fpoken of. Be a good
Wife, and you ſhall be beloved and praiſed; be a bad one, you ſhall be ill uſed,
or elſe divorced. Be a good Maſter, and you ſhall be well ferved; be an unjuſt and
cruel one, and all ſhall hate you, and fly from you. Be a good Servant, and you
ſhall be well uſed; be a bad and faithlefs one, and expect the Mill, the Mines, or
a Halter. Theſe are the Hopes, and theſe the Fears, that other Laws and Dif
penfations hold out; theſe are the Promiſes, and theſe the Threats that are to bind
Men to their ſeveral Duties, and to deter them from neglecting them: But what Se-
curity is this, to what the Chriſtian Doctrine offers; when to the faithful, juſt, and
true Diſcharge of all Mens Duties, it offers all the natural Advantages of doing
well, and everlaſting Life in Happineſs befides? And to the wilfull Contempt and
Neglect of all theſe ſeveral Duties, to all the natural Inconveniencies and Miſchiefs
of doing ill, it threatens endleſs and amazing Puniſhments? What ſtrange Encou-
ragements to good Morality are theſe? What ſtrange Diſcouragements to bad? Al-
low it but (as well you may) that the true and honeft Diſcharge of every Man's
Duty to each other, in the Relation they ſtand in, is the fureft Way of making
and
1
336
Duty of Mafters to Servants.
and keeping all Men eaſy and happy throughout the World, and you will fee that
nothing ever fo confulted the Good of all Mankind, even in this Life, as the Chri-
ftian Religion. For had the Legiſlators, and the Moralifts of all Countries and all
Ages, delivered the fame Leffons with thoſe of Chrift; yet, not being able to bring:
to light this Immortality of Life in Pleaſure, or in Pain, they muſt have talked
but finely to little purpoſe; and all their Laws have wanted the moſt powerful
Sanction. This alſo fhews how great a Part (almoſt indeed the Whole) of true
Religion, good Morality makes up, to which the Rewards diſcovered by eſpecial
Revelation are affixt, and to the Neglect of which the Puniſhments revealed are
all threatned. Let no one, therefore, think it fo indifferent a Thing, whether they
well or ill diſcharge the Duties of their ſeveral Relations; for if Religion were di-
vided into Parts, the Duties that we owe to one another, would make up five of fix;
and Heaven and Hell, we fee, are to reward their good Performance, and puniſh
the Neglect of them. And let a Man take Care to have a due Regard to Juſtice,
if a Magiſtrate, and live in obedience to the Laws as a good Subject, approve himſelf
a dutiful Son to his Parents, and a good Parent to his Children; a faithful and good-
natured careful Huſband to his Wife; a juft and equal Maſter to his Servants, and
a good, diligent and honeft Servant to his Mafter; let him difcharge with Care
and a good Conſcience the Duties of his different Relations, and fee how much
he will want of being a good Chriſtian: If theſe were well performed, the reſt
of our Religion would go down with eaſe; the Scruples and Objections made to
Doctrines would go near to vaniſh, if our diſorderly Affections and our Will were
once fubdued to Reaſon, and we were truly juft and honeſt Men; and, to ſpeak
in faſhion, Men of great Probity, and good Morals: For that indeed is the very Life
and Subſtance of Chrift's Religion; and in the Senſe and full Perfwafion of this,
I have been fo long infifting on the feveral Duties that we owe to one another, and
with which I have now done.
THREE
:
337
#
THREE
SERMONS
•
ON
SELF-MURTHER.
¡
SERMON I
د.
II SAMUEL XVII. VERSE 23.
t
And when Ahithophel Jaw that his Counfel was not followed, he
Jaddled bis Afs, and arofe, and gat him home to his House, to
bis City, and put his Houfbold in order, and hanged himself,
and died, and was buried in the Sepulchre of his Father.
T
HESE Words contain a plain Account of what happened to a moſt
unfortunate and wicked Man; and to make them as uſeful as I can, I
think it will be beſt to treat of them in this Order. First, To ſpeak to
the difaftrous End Ahithophel came to, he hanged himself, and died. Se-
condly, To the Occafion of it, he faw that his Counsel was not followed. Thirdly,
Something previous to his Execution, he arofe, gat him home to his Houfe, to his City,
and put his Houshold in order: And Fourthly, to what followed, he was buried in
the Sepulchre of his Father.
Firſt, The diſaſtrous End that Abithophel came to, was, that he banged himſelf.
This was a Death of Infamy, and allotted by the Laws to great Malefactors: And
therefore it is faid, Deut. xxi. 23. He that is hanged, is accurfed of God; not for
dying, but for deſerving to die in that manner. It was his Crime, not Puniſh-
ment, and made him accurfed of God: His being hanged on a Tree, was to de-
note fome great Offence that deferved that Puniſhment, and for which he had in-
curred the Divine Diſpleaſure. And fo, when our Saviour is faid to be made a
Curfe for us, by dying on the Croſs (which St. Peter, in Acts x. 39. calls hanging
on a Tree) it is with reſpect to this Sentence of the Law in Deut. He bare our Sins,
and was put to the like Death, and underwent the like Ignominy with thoſe Offen-
ders, who, under the Law, were accurfed of God. This Death Abithopbel underwent,
not by any Sentence of Law, but by his Choice, upon fome private Confideration;
and tho' he avoided the Ignominy of fuch a Sentence, yet the Ignominy of the
2 T t
Death
338
Against Self-Murther.
•
·
'
-
Death was not to be avoided; becauſe it was accounted an ignominious and accurfed
Death, and was appointed for notorious Malefactors. But the Uſe we may make of
his chooſing this particular, rather than any other Way of dying, is very little, in-
leſs we may obferve, how far the wifeft Men are blinded by their Paffions, when,
to avoid ſome Shame, they run into Courfes that directly lead to it. The Thing to
be principally confidered, is, not why he died in this Manner, but why he died at
all; what Right he had to put an end to his Life, by hanging himſelf: For, to do
this, without blame, a Man muſt be at perfect Liberty both by the Laws of God
and Man, and independent on them both: There must be no Obligation on him,
either from the Law of Nature and right Reaſon, or from the revealed Law of God,
or from his lawful Superiours upon Earth: For if any of theſe with-hold his Hands,
he cannot innocently lay them on himſelf. Now, as to the Law of Nature con-
demning this Practice, I do not fo much appeal to that innate Love of Life,`· and
Fear of Death, which is generally implanted in all Men's Hearts (for theſe Men,
being freed from theſe Affections, will deny their Power) as to that general-Abhor-
rence that all Nations of the World have had that Practice in: And the more
Wiſe, more Civil and Polite thofe Nations have been eſteemed, the more they have
condemned it; which if it be not a Proof of the Reaſonableness of any Doctrine,
we ſhall never find what is. And though there be a great many Examples, both
of Greeks and Romans, even in their beſt Times, that fell by their own Hands, up-
on fome preffing Extremities; yet their Rules, their Laws, and their Reaſonings,
were all againſt it. And thoſe Examples againſt their Rules, are of no more Au-
thority to countenance ſuch a Practice, than the Example of Men committing any
other Wickedness, will countenance fuch other Wickedneſs, againſt their Reaſon,
and againſt expreſs Command of God. Their Rules, and their Laws were againſt
Adultery, and Rapes, and Violence, Oppreffion, Exaction and all Injuſtice; and yet
their great ones were guilty of them all, when they found their Opportunities :
And their Hiſtorians often mention them without Reproach or Blame; and ſome
were ſtill found, that would call their impure Liberties, Gallantries, and fine Free-
doms; and their Oppreffions, Conquefts; and their unjuft Invafions of Kingdoms,
glorious Ambition, and Enlargement of Empire. But a Man would be much mif-
taken, if he thought that this was the Judgment of their wife and fober Writers,
or of the grave and ferious Part that governed them; or that ſuch Practices were coun-
nanced by their Laws, and Rules of living. This I mention, to obviate that Ob-
jection, that many Paffages are found in the Writings of theſe People, in Com-
mendation of ſuch, as, to avoid fome great Calamity, have put an End to their
Lives by their own Hands; for that will always happen, that Men of looſe Prin-
ciples ſhould have falſe Notions of Liberty, and Honour, and great Courage, and
ſhould accordingly commend fuch Practice as is conformable to fuch looſe Principles.
And we, who live in an Age, where every. Thing is juſtified by fome poor Writer
or another, though never fo extravagant, impious, and unreaſonable, ſhould not be
hard to believe, that fo it has been heretofore with other People, and fo will be here-
after: And yet we ſhould be loth to have Pofterity believe, that this was the Senſe,
the Reaſon, the Underſtanding, and the Judgment of our Age, in the general. We
muſt conſult the wife, the fober, and the ſerious Writers of the Times, the Laws,
the Rules, and Reaſonings of the grave and governing Part of a Nation, to un-
derſtand their true Senfe of Matters of Moment: And from them we ſhall learn,
that Self-Murther was evermore an abhorred Practice among them; that whatever
pretence it made to great Honour, Magnanimity and Courage, it was indeed but an
Effect of Cowardife and Fear, and a Mark of a poor impatient Spirit, that funk
under the common Calamities of Life, and knew not how to bear Misfortunes
¿
3
{
that
Against Self-Murther,
339
•
that it was Diſobedience and Impiety, to defert the Station that their Supreme-
Commander gave them to maintain, and act apparently againſt their Sovereign's
Order. I trouble you not with the Particulars, becauſe there is no need: "Tis cer-
tain, the confidering, virtuous, and religious Part of Mankind, have all along been
of this Opinion, and condemned the Practice of thoſe, who, to free themſelves
from fome Misfortunes, have ended their Days, before their Time, by Violence;
and it would be no great Wonder, if more Examples, and more Defenders of this
Practice were found among the Gentiles, than there are; becauſe, they were, many
of them, Atheiſts, or Believers in ſo many Gods, that it almoſt came to the fame
Thing: And to them, who acknowledge no Supreme Power who governs the
World, and to whom Men are accountable for what they do, it is a vain Thing to
talk of the Laws of Nature, and right Reaſon; for let them be never ſo plain and
clear, they will go for nothing, where they may be tranfgreffed without Fear of be-
ing vindicated by any Power, or Puniſhment. And doubtleſs, if a Man believes he
has no Body hereafter to account to, he will fear no Maſter or Superiour here, from
whom he knows he can eſcape fo eafily, by Death. But we are now fuppofing the
Belief of God, and upon that Bottom affirm, that a Man cannot be ſo much Ma-
fo
fter of his Life, as to throw it away at pleaſure, without regard to that Will of
his, which appears to be written in our Hearts, forbidding fuch a Practice; of
which, the concurring Confent of the wifeft Lawgivers, and Writers of the wifeft
and moſt civilized People, of all Ages, is, I think one very good Proof.
1
As to any Declaration of the Will of God, in this Particular, in the written Re-
velation; it is not to be expected there fhould be a fingle Prohibition of every fin-
gle Sin, that a Man can commit; it is fufficient, if there be general Prohibitions
that include them all. And fuch is, in this Caſe, that general one, of, Thou shalt
do no Murther; which fecures the Life of every Man and Woman in the World,
whofe Life is not obnoxious, by fome other Command, to be taken away: As,
the Laws, for Inſtance, puniſh Theft, and other Crimes with Death, notwithſtand-
ing the fixth Commandment; becauſe Men commit other Offences, to which Death
is due by other Laws of equal Force with the Law against Murther. But it is
Murther ſtill, to take away any one's Life, and an Offence againſt the fixth Com-
mandment, if that Life be not forfeited by fome other Law of equal Force and
Obligation with this againſt Murther.
But theſe Commands do all reſpect our Neighbour only; and they, who murther
themſelves, know and confefs they are tied by the fixth Commandment, not to
murther any one elſe. To this it may be anſwered, that this is downright to beg
the Queſtion in hand; for if the Letter and the Senfe of the Command will reach
a Man's felf, as well as his Neighbour, why ſhould not the Commandment include
our felves? A Man is murthered, when he murthers himſelf, and the Command
prohibits Murther: And though the Commandments of the fecond Table do eſpe-
cially refer to our Neighbour, yet not exclufively of our felves: We may not
bear falſe Witneſs againſt ourſelves, no more than againſt our Neighbour; becauſe
the Truth is hurt thereby, and fome Wrong done by ſuch a Teſtimony; fo that
where it is poffible for the Commandments to take in our own Cafe, there they
will do fo, as well as our Neighbour's. But to make the Matter plain, let it be
taken for fuppofed, that both the Sixth and the rest of the Commandments of
the ſecond Table refpect our Neighbour only; and we may afk, whether by
Neighbour, is not to be underſtood any one that is truly injured by our Offence,
as well as the Party moſt immediately concerned? The ſeventh Commandment,
for Example, is, Thou shalt not commit Adultery. When a wicked Man falls into
this Commiffion, and abuſes his Neighbour's Bed, does he only offend againſt the
Partner
340
Against Self-Murther.
Partner of his Sin, the adulterous Woman, or alfo against the injured Husband?
Does he not alfo offend against his own Wife, if he have one? Does he not offend
againſt the Parents and Relations alfo of his wicked Accomplice, dishonouring their
Name, and Houſe; and filling the Family with Grief, and Shame, and much Con-
fuſion? When a Man fteals, againſt the Eighth Commandment, does he only offend
againſt the Party whom he immediately wrongs, or alfo against thoſe who fuffer
by that Wrong? When one bears falfe Teftimony, against the Ninth Commandment,
and thereby defeats a Man's Title to his Eſtate, his Office, or Employ, does he not
offend againſt the Wife and Children of that Man, who lived by that Eftate, or
Office, or Employ, as well as against the Man and Maſter of that Family? You
ſee then that the Commandment refpects more than one Party, under the Notion
of Neighbour, even all that are injured by that Tranfgreffion. Now I alk, whe-
ther this does not happen alfo, in breaking the Sixth Commandment, by murther-
ing one's Neighbour? Are not the Wife and Children, and the Family, made very
miferable by ſuch a Death? And I aſk again, whether the fame Miſchief does not
follow to one's own Family, by a Self-Murther, as to another Family, by the Mur-
ther of another? And if it do, it is certain that the Sixth Commandment forbids
Self-Murther, as fure as it does the Murther of another; becauſe it forbids the Con-
fequences of Self-Murther (which are Shame, and Grief, and Lofs, and Pain, and
Injury, and all forts of Miſchiefs) as certainly as it forbids the Confequences of
murthering any one befides; becaufe a Man is no more at Liberty to injure and
afflict his own Houſe and Relations, than the Houſe and Relations of a Stranger.
If therefore he offend againſt his Neighbour, even all that are injured by his Of-
fence, as well as the fingle Party injured more immediately; it is manifeſt he alfo
offends againſt his Neighbour, even all his own Houfe, Relations, and Dependants, by
taking away his own Life; fince (as I faid) the Confequences are the fame, and full
as calamitous, to my own Family, by fuch a Stroak, as they would be to another
If therefore a
Family, if I fhould, by a Murther, deprive it of a like Relation.
Man were at full Liberty, as to any exprefs Command of God, to do that Violence
to himſelf; yet he would be obliged to with-hold his Hand, by many other Com-
mands of God, which forbid the doing fo much Miſchief to other People, as fuch
a Violence does always do. There is therefore nothing gained to this Cauſe, by
alledging the Sixth Commandment does not forbid Self-Murther, as relating to
our Neighbour only, i. e, to other People; becauſe it is manifeft, our Neighbours,
other People, are exceedingly miſchiefed by the Breach of it in Self-Murther. The
Miſtake in all theſe Caſes ſeems to be this, at the Bottom, the thinking the Com-
mands of the ſecond Table refer to one Neighbour only, namely, the Party concern-
ed immediately in the Injury, whereas they do undoubtedly refer to all Neighbours
that are, by a natural and eaſy Confequence, concerned and injured: As the Wife
in the Huſband, the Huſband in the Wife, the Parents in the Children, and the
Children in the Parents; and fo in all Relations, more or lefs. And therefore if the
Commands of God, prohibiting Adultery, Theft, and Falfe-witneſs, are underſtood
to prohibit not only the fingle Acts, but alſo the miſchievous and wicked Confequences
of thofe Acts, which are natural and unavoidable; it is plain the fixth Command-
ment does the like, and therefore forbids Self-Murther, unleſs it can be ſeparated
from all thoſe mifchievous and wicked Confequences that unavoidably follow that
Practice.
And, that theſe Conſequences are equally intended by God the Lawgiver, and are
to be as much regarded by Men, as the prime Miſchief and Occafion of them,
may appear farther from hence, (as well as the Guilt of Self-Murther) that though
a Man were never fo weary of his Life, and fought as willingly for Death, as People
in
Against Self-Murther.
341
you
in Pain for Eafe, and wearied Labourers for Reft and Sleep; yet were it utterly un-
lawful to give that Man the Satisfaction he defired, by killing him; not only be-
cauſe it would be murthering of that ſingle Man (notwithſtanding his defire of dy-
ing) but becauſe of the Miſchiefs following to the Family, by fuch Death: First,
It would be Murther to kill a Man, though he were very defirous of dying, and
requeſted it, as a Kindness, at your Hands: Murther therefore does not barely con-
fift in Violence that is offered to one, against his Will; but, in taking away a Life
which you have no Right to take away, by the Laws of God or Man. But why
have you no Right to do that which he defires of you, fince Wrong is done to no
one who is willing, and he conveys his Right to you, by his defiring you to kill
him? The Reaſon is, he has no Right himſelf, and therefore can convey none to
another. If he were Maſter of his own Life, ſo as to lay it down at pleaſure, by God's
Law, I do not fee but he might make you Maſter of it, if he pleaſed; and by full
Confent. Whatever he can lawfully do to himſelf, he can, if he will, empower
to do to him; and whatever he cannot empower you to do to him, he cannot
do himſelf. Now he cannot empower you to kill him; and the Reaſon is, he has
not Power (I mean by God's Law) to kill himſelf: For if he had Power by God's
Law to kill himſelf, he would not offend againſt God's Law, by commiffioning you
to do fo: Taking it therefore for granted, that to kill a Man, though willing and
defirous to be killed, would yet be Murther before God, it will follow; First, That
a Man has really no fuch Conſent to give, his Life is not in his own Power to throw
away (for if it might be given, it might be taken.) Secondly, That Miſchief may
be
done to one that is willing and confenting to it; and therefore, that Self-Murther is
not the leſs miſchievous and injurious, becauſe a Man confents to it. And, Thirdly,
that Murther (as well as other Crimes) has eſpecial reſpect to the Injuries and Mif-
chiefs that other People fuffer, as well as to thofe inflicted immediately on the Party
concerned. For if Murther be a Crime, becauſe it deprives a Man of what is fo
valuable as Life (although not valued by this Man, who willingly parts with it) it
is alſo a Crime, becauſe it deprives other People of the Affiftance, Help, and Com-
fort which that Life either did, or might afford them. And that which another
Man's Life is to his Relations, Kindred and Dependants, that is
Life to your
your
Relations, Kindred and Dependants; and therefore no more to be caft away by you,
than his is to be taken away by any other Man.
I have repeated theſe Things, that you might fee the plainer, how a Man's Life
is not his own to do as he pleaſes with it; but, that could he be ſuppoſed to be at
Liberty, with reſpect to his fingle ſelf, to throw it away at pleaſure; yet that his
Duty and Obligation to his Relations (not now to ſay the Publick) would conſtrain
him not to do it: And this by the Law of God, even by the Sixth Commandment
which forbidding the Injuries and Miſchiefs confequential upon Murther, as well as
the Murther itſelf, muft alfo be underſtood to include the mischievous Confequences
of Self-Murther, as well as any elſe. And if the Confequences are prohibited, the
Cauſe and Occafion of them alfo is prohibited.
I alledge, in the next Place, that both the Jews and Chriftians, few or none ex-
cepted, have all along condemned this Practice, and thought it was condemned by
the Sixth Commandment in general, as well as by other Paffages in Scripture, by
natural and unftrained Confequence. Although, to do them right, they never fail-
ed to affirm, that to do violence to one's own Life, was to act againſt Reafon and
Natural Religion, withdrawing our Obedience from our Supreme Commander,
withſtanding his Will, diftruſting his Care and Providence, and betraying an impo-
tent and effeminate Mind; fhrinking from beneath the common Accidents of Life,
and able to bear nothing uneafy; together with thofe other Arguments which are
2 Uu
every
34:2
Against Self-Mürther.
•
every where to be met withal, and which, therefore, I meddle not with at prefent'
being content your thould only obferve, that this Practice hath been all along com
demned by People of all-Religions, and purfued with great Abhorrence, and all manket
of Diſcouragements, and by the Chriſtian Religion eſpecially with dreadful Sen-
tences: And therefore, let every ofte confider feriouſly what Obligations the Con-
fent, that is ſo general, and fo reaſonable, muſt lay upon them. To think it is Hot
forbidden by God to destroy the Work of His Hands, becaufe Self-Murther is not
named exprefly, is to leave yourſelf at Liberty to commit a Hundred other hateful
Crimes, that are not fpecified in particular, but are concluded under general Heads,
When God fays to Noah in Gen. ix. 6. Whofo fheddeth Man's Blood, by Man hall his
Blood be ſhed, for in the Image of God made be Man; It is plain, that whatever the
Meaning of the laſt Words are, in whatever Senfe Man is faid to be made in the
Image of God; the Reafon of the Prohibition holds as ſtrong and good againſt Self
Murther, as againſt the Killing any other Man. For, if I must not ſhed the Blood
of another Man, becauſe he is made in the Image of God; I must not ſhed the Blood
of my own felf, becaufe I alfo am a Man, and made alike alfo in the Image of God,
as he is. That Reaſon, I ſay, (whatever it is) reſtrains Self-Murther juſt as much
as it does the Murther of any other Man. But I will alſo add (and which I would
you ſhould remember) a Reaſon, why Self-Murther is not, any where, exprefly pro-
hibited by its Name; and that is, that whatever Sins and Offences God, as a Law-
giver, prohibits, he prohibits with a Penalty; he affixes fuch a Puniſhment to
fuch a Crime, and he who commits that Crime, is to undergo the determined
Puniſhment in this World, whether it be Reftitution, lofs of Limb, or of Life it
felf. Now this can never happen in the Cafe of Self-Murther, which prevents all
Puniſhment, and therefore prevents all Threatnings, and all Laws. When I fay,
that God.prohibits no Offence, without affixing a Puniſhment to its Tranfgreffion;
I do not mean, that he always did it himself, but that it was always done by his
Appointment, Order and Decree; though for the moſt part the Puniſhment is named
by him himſelf. But neither God, nor Magiſtrate, can prohibit Self-Murther with
any Penalty that can affect the Criminal himſelf; becaufe, by his very Crime, he
eſcapes all temporal Puniſhment in Perfon; he is dead before you can take any Cog-
nizance of his Offence. You fee 'then, what Reafon there is, why Self-Murther
was not exprefly prohibited by Name, by God, or Mofes by Command of God.
No Law can be enacted, to any purpoſe, without a Penalty; where therefore there
can be no Penalty, there can be no Law: Now Self-Murther prevents all Penalty,
and therefore wants no particular Prohibition: It muſt therefore be included under
general Commands, and forbidden only as Sin, of which God only can take Cog-
nizance, and that in another World. This Satisfaction was owing to that common
Objection, that Self-Murther was no where exprefly forbidden by God by Name,
tho' abundance of Matters of much lefs Moment were in the Holy Scriptures.
But I muft fay, upon this Occafion, that Scripture Silence is true Silence, and fays
nothing either for, or against any Practice: And that when, in this Relation of
Abithophel, as alfo that of Judas's fad End, there is neither Blame, nor Commen-
dation beſtowed on what was done by either; we must judge by fome other Rule,
whether they did well or amiſs, and not by the Relation; which neither blames by
not commending, nor commends by not blaming what is related. It is moft certain
'that Self-Murther is forbidden by God in general, and by confequence in many Places
of the Holy Scriptures: And is really utterly irreconcileable with that Patience un-
der Afflictions, that Refignation and Submiffion to the Will of God, in all Conditions
of Life, however fad and calamitous, that the Chriftian Religión certainly requires of
its Profeffors. And to think it is no Sin 'to deſtroy one's felf, is one of the fatalleſt
Miſtakes
}
3
Against Self-Murther.
343
}
:
·;
i
+
Miſtakes a Man can fall into, and fruitful of all ill Confequences, and utterly con-
demn's all the Wildom, and all the Religion that ever was eſteemed, in the World.
But I will, at preſent, only infift on your confidering what has been ſaid, concern-
ing the Miſchief and the Injury done, by theſe fudden Stroaks, to our Neighbour,
¿. e. to other People. There is fometimes a great Loſs to the Publick, by throwing
away a valuable and ufeful Life: Always Scandal and Offence taken by good, but
weak People; and fome are milled by fuch Examples. But who can exprefs the
Pain and Grief, the Shame and the Confufion of all the innocent Relations that
furvive? Even natural and eafy Deaths create a World of Sorrows, and make a
deal of human Life (fhort as it is) tedious, and full of Trouble: Sudden and acci-
dental Deaths affect us yet deeper; and if they have any thing remarkably cala-
mitous and fad in them, it is worſe ſtill. But when it is violent and deliberate,
then are they perfectly oppreffed and overwhelmed. Is this the Care Men are to
take of thoſe who love them beft, and who are, often, beft beloved by them?
Does this look any thing like Piety to Parents, or Kindneſs to Wife and Children?
Yet this is the Return that theſe unnatural Children make to Fathers and to Mo-
thers, if alive, this is the Dowry that theſe Hufbands leave their Wives; and this
the Patrimony Fathers convey to their Defcendants. It is true indeed, theſe miſe-
rable People intend not thefe Misfortunes and Afflictions to their Friends and Kin-
dred; they have it not in their Hearts to entail fuch Mifery upon thoſe to whom
they with all Happiness: But fo it is, they fee, in other People's Cafes; and fo,
they know, it must be in their own: And it is no Matter what they purpoſe, when
what they do will have its natural Operation, and occafion all thefe Miſchiefs. I
think, if any Confideration that is purely human, could reftrain theſe cruel Vió-
lences, it fhould, and would be this, of faving fo much Pain and Sorrow, and Con-
fùfion, as they unavoidably occafion to the beft and nearest Friends they have in
the World, by parting in fuch manner from them. Is it fo hard for you to bear à
little. Poverty, a little Shame, Reproach or Infamy, or even the Fear and Apprehen-
fion of thefe Things? So hard, that you will rather die than venture them, or
than endure them? And yet you will entail them on your Kindred and your Fa-
mily, who have done nothing to deferve them: You will leave them to the Re-
proaches and Revilings, and the ill Uſage of a pitileſs, infulting, and uncharitable
World; who will be fure to load them with the Infamy, and the Diſhonours that
you leave them. But, above all, with what perplexing Doubts and Fears, with
what amazing and distracting Thoughts, do you fill their Minds, concerning your
Condition in the other World? That Concern, indeed, touches even Strangers; all
that hear of fuch fad Accidents: But that is an eaſy tranfient Trouble, in Compa-
rifon with that which Kindred and Relations feel on fuch Occafions, whofe Grief
is equal to their Love, and lafting as is their Life.
Sometimes it happens, that the Confideration of doing Miſchief or Difhonour to
thofe they love, and to whom they owe all Duty, will reſtrain People from doing what
they incline ftrongly to do; and from doing which, the Confideration of their
oton Honour, Intereft, and Duty will not reftrain them. And therefore, it were
well if theſe unhappy People, when they forget God and themſelves, would yet
permit the Senfe of the Duty they owe their Neighbour, even their beſt Friends,
and neareſt Relations, to dwell upon their Minds, and have its Work
upon them
that they would be content to live, at leaft till they can die without doing Wrong
or Miſchief to other People. This is what the Confideration of Abithophel's End
led me to ſay, in Oppofition to a Practice that prevails too much among us, of
Peoples deſtroying themſelves, as he did. When the Jayler (who had received fo
ftrict a Charge of fecuring Paul and Silas, and knew that he muſt anſwer Body
for
344
Against Self-Murther.
for Body for his Prifoners) found the Prifon-doors open, he drew out his Sword, and
would have killed himſelf, if Paul had not cried out with a loud Voice, Do thy felf no
barm, for we are all here, Acts xvi. 27. But this Jayler was a poor Gentile, an ig-
norant and unlearned Roman, in all likelihood; and therefore it is no great Won-
der, to fee him forward to diſpatch himſelf in fuch a Manner; who only had it
in his Mind to avoid, perhaps, a lingring and tormenting Death, for letting his
Priſoners ſcape, by one more quick and eaſy, by his own Hand; and knew, it
may be, nothing of any other Life than what he was leaving: By fuch People one
can hardly expect the Laws of Nature, or the Dictates of Reafon, or the Opinions
of wife Writers, fhould be confidered; they live by Senfe, and are governed by
their Paffions. But better Things might be expected of Abithophel; a few, a Man
of better Education, a Man of Birth, the King's Counfellor, and accounted fo wife,
that whoever adviſed with Abithophel, it was, in thofe Days, as if he had enquired
at the Oracle of God; and therefore fo much feared by David, when he heard he
was with Abfalom, that he prayed exprefly to God, that he would defeat the Counsel
of Ahithophel, before he knew what it was; as knowing it would be ſhrewdly
miſchievous, if followed. That one thus qualified fhould dare to die in fuch a
Manner, is ſtill more ſtrange and unaccountable; yet even Ahithophel's Self-Murther
was not near fo wicked and audacious, as fuch an Attempt muft needs be in an
understanding educated Chriftian; to whom the Will and Commands of God are
revealed with equal Certainty, but with much greater (at the leaſt much plainer) Ar-
guments and Motives, both to deter from all Offence, and to encourage to Obedi-
ence. A Chriſtian, that believes in God, the Immortality of the Soul, and the
Life of the World to come, fo much, that he could not be a Chriftian without
fuch Belief; nor indeed a wife Man in being a Chriſtian; one that believes, that
the Wrath of God is now revealed againſt all Unrighteouſneſs; that without Re-
pentance no Man's Sins can be forgiven; that after Death there is no Repentance;
but that as the Tree falls, fo it will lie: That fuch a Man as this, profeffing the
Faith of Chrift crucified, and covenanting with God, in Baptiſm, to take up the
Croſs, and bear it, if need be, to Death, fhould, in the Impatience of his Soul,
and preffed by fome Calamity a little more than ordinary, deliberately chooſe to
throw this Burthen off, by committing what he knows a Sin, of which he knows
he never can Repent, and venture the moft dreadful Confequence of that to ever-
lafting Ages, is what no Body could ever Reaſon themſelves into the Belief of, if
the frequent Practice of fome moft unhappy People did not convince us, it might be
done by letting us fee it was: But it is, in truth, a great Reproach to Reaſon and
Chriſt's Religion, that fo it is; and not a little Diſhonour is alſo caft upon our Na-
tion hereby, as furniſhing more Examples of this fort of Violence than any other,
though much larger: Though that Reproach may help a little to fave the Honour
of Religion, as cafting this bad Practice, fomewhat, on our Climate, Diet, Liberty,
Complexion, and Way of living. But I would make no manner of Excufe for it;
it is a Practice to be abhorred and condemned with all our Zeal, to be purſued with
all Pity; and to be guarded againſt with all our Care and Prudence, all our Reaſon
and Religion, our walking in the Ways of God with all Stedfaſtneſs, and pouring
out our conftant Prayers for his preventing and affifting Grace, that his Fear may
ever be before us, and that no Temptations to fuch Impiety may ever prevail upon
us. Of the rest of the Particulars contained in the Text, in the Manner already
laid out, you will read in the Difcourfes following.
3
SERMON
Against Self-Murther.
345
SERMON II.
II SAMUEL XVII. VER SE 23.
And when Ahithophel Saw that his Counsel was not followed, be
faddled his Afs, and arofe, and gat him home to his Houfe, to
his City, and put his Houfbold in order, and hanged himself,
and died, and was buried in the Sepulchre of his Father.
H
AVING already taken Occafion from theſe Words, to confider the Caſe
of Self-Murther, and fhewn that Abithophel had no Right to difpofe of
his own Life, in the Manner he did; nor any Man elſe to offer Violence
to himſelf: But that all Men were reftrained from fuch Attempts, by
the general Law of God, contained in the fixth Commandment forbidding Mur-
ther; which being grounded on the Reaſon given by God in Gen. ix. 6. that Man
was made in the Image of God, did as certainly take in Self-Murther, as the Murther of
any other Man, every Man being himſelf made in the Image of God, as much as
his Brother: And fhewn moreover, that the Confequences of Murther, Adultery,
Theft, and Falfe-witneſs, being as certainly forbidden by God, as the prime Acts
themſelves, it would unavoidably follow, that the Confequences of Self-Murther
were as certainly forbidden, as the Confequences of any other Murther: And there-
fore that the fixth Commandment, though eſpecially relating to the Duty we owe
our Neighbour (i. e. to one another) did as certainly prohibit Self-Murther, by
prohibiting its Confequences, as any other Command prohibited the prime Act, by
prohibiting the mischievous Effects that follow from it unavoidably; and anſwered,
as the Time would let me, the common Objections that are raiſed; in Juftification
of theſe forts of Violence: I am now, without farther Repetition, to proceed to the
Second Thing I was to ſpeak to, namely, the Occafion of Abithophel's Self-Murther
which was, that he faw that his Counsel was not followed. The Hiftory of that matter
is, in fhort, this: Abfalom, by his popular Demeanour and artful Management,
had eſtranged the Hearts of the Jews from the Love and Obedience they owed to
David his Father; and there was fo great a Defection, that it is, really, unaccount-
able, from what appears in the Hiftory: In this, Ahithophel was deeply concerned,
and was accounted the very Life and Strength of the Confpiracy: And being called
to give his Avice what Abfalom had to do, he took Care, in the firft Place, to
make the Breach irreconcileable betwixt the Father and the Son. In this thing
Abfalom followed his Directions cloſely, as you may fee, in 2 Sam. xvi. 20. But
advifing farther, Chap. xvii. to purfue David clofely, with a Body of Men that
might certainly furprize him, he was, in this Point, oppofed by Hufhai the Ar-
chite, another very able Counsellor, and fent by David, on purpoſe, to go over to
Abfalom's Party, to defeat the Counſel of Ahithophel; and he did it effectually:
For his Counſel was the more plauſible (though not ſo good for the young Prince)
and was accordingly followed, both Abfalom and all the Men of Ifrael faying, The
Counsel of Hufhai the Archite, is better than the Counsel of Ahithophel. I leave you
to read yourſelves the different Counfels of theſe two Stateſmen; it is only to my
purpoſe to obferve, that the Diſtaſte Abithophel took at his Advice's being rejected,
2 X x
;
was
!
346
Against Self-Murther.
1
was the Occafion of his Ruine; When he faw his Counsel was not followed, be arofe,
and went home to his Houfe, fet his Houshold in order, and hanged himself, and died.
There were two Things efpecially, that gave him this Difcontent; the First, to
ſee his Counſel not followed, but that of another Man preferred before his; a Dif
grace that a great Stateſman knows not how to bear, or put up: His Counſel was
(you will find in his Hiſtory) had in ſo great Account, that to adviſe with Abithophel,
was, in thoſe Days, as if one had enquired of the Oracles of God: And this Efteem
makes a Diſgrace fit fo much heavier on the Mind. But, Secondly, he faw the
Confequences of his Counfel being rejected; he faw his new Choice, and the Party
he had turned to, would be ruined, by the Advice of Hufbai the Archite: He knew,
that Abfalom would not be able to hold it long against his Father; he had loft
his Opportunity, and given to David Time and Breath, which was the only Thing
he wanted; and Leifure to the People of Ifrael to confider their Revolt, and to repent,
and timely to make their Peace with their old King, by returning to their Duty
and Obedience: This was the fatal Mifcarriage of Abfalom's Affairs, that Abitho-
phel faw clearly, and faw it was not to be retrieved, and faw, perhaps, the Trea-
chery of Hubai, and his Defign in giving fuch Advice. And he knew very well
where David's Wrath would light, with all his Vengeance, when he fhould be re-
ſettled on his Throne again, namely, upon the Evil Counsellors, of which he was
himſelf the Chief. He faw, the Heart of a good old indulgent Father, would (if
he fcaped with Life in Fight) quickly pafs by, and fpare the Rafhnefs of a
young and giddy Prince, his beloved Son; and difcharge his Fury on the wicked
Inftruments that had feduced him to Rebellion: And you may fee by the Tender-
nefs and Care that David took of Abfalom, in his Charge to Joab, before the Bat-
tle, and the Grief he felt upon his Lofs; you may fee by this, how rightly and
truly Abithophel judged of Matters, and how well he knew where the Storm at laft
would fall, even chiefly on himfelf, who had given fuch mischievous Counfel, that
had it been purſued, David had certainly been loft. For this, he knew, he muft
pay down his Life, when David fhould return with Victory; there was no Pardon
for one fo able, and deep engaged in the Confpiracy as he: And therefore he re-
folves to prevent the Stroak of David, by one of his own. So that here is the Senfe
of a Difgrace paft, in having his Counfel rejected, and the Fear of farther Shame
and Pain to come (the Confequence (he faw) of his Counſel's not being followed)
that occafioned him to fall into this defperate Refolution, of laying violent Hands
upon himſelf.
+
When Men engage in any wicked Practice, as Abitbophel here did, and find them-
felves diſappointed, and their great Purpoſes defeated, and they are brought to Shame,
or into Danger, their Minds are not equal to their Burthen; their Stomach is fo
high, their Pride fo great, that they know not what to do with that fingle Imagi-
nation, of what the World will think or fay of them. All Men, they fancy, are
Obfervers of their Actions, and have their Eyes upon them; and when they have mif-
carried, all Men cenfure, and reproach them, and condemn them. So that though
they can bear the Guilt themſelves, yet they cannot bear the Shame it occafions
them with others; this oppreffes and confounds them. I think one may obferve,
that in almoſt all theſe deadly Reſolutions that People take againſt themſelves, there'
is fomething worldly at the Bottom, that meets with fome naughty Paffion or other,
that prevails againſt their Reaſon, and fets them on this bad Work. And what
can one infer better, from this Example, than that every one fhould be extreamly
careful, how they engage themſelves in Matters of great Difficulty, or Danger, left
the Diſappointment be too great for them: And that not only in Matters certainly
wicked and forbidden, but even in all others, where the Event, if not fucceſsful,
is
Against Self-Murther.
347
is like to be of great, but ill Confequence to them; for few People underſtand them-
felves throughly, or know the Strength or Weakness of their Minds, in great Trials;
and therefore fhould not eafily put themfelves
upon them.
But fince the Accidents of Life, that are neither to be forefeen, nor prevented,
trouble us as much as the Mifcarriages of our own Defigns deliberately laid; the
next uſeful Caution may be, to have our Minds fo prepared, and our Affections fo
fubdued, and kept in fo good Order, that the common Calamities of Life, though
they may furprize, yet may not quite confound us: That we may not be ſo loft and
deftitute of Succour from our Reafon, as to give our felves up to the Guidance of
our prefent Paffion, and follow where that leads: For this, indeed, is the common
Lot of thoſe who fall into the deſperate Refolutions we are ſpeaking of: Their Paf-
fions are always high, never controuled or checked, evermore indulged and yield-
ed to; fo that when grievous Accidents befal them, they know not whereabouts
they are, nor whither to turn themſelves: They can bear no Lofs or Difappointment,
nor fall from the Condition, in which they formerly were, but abandon themſelves
entirely to Sorrow and Defpair. The Bottom of this Miſchief is, that they place
their whole Happiness in the Attainments of this World, in the poffeffing, Riches,
the enjoying Honours, and in the Praife and Approbation of Men: And therefore
when the firſt make to themfelves Wings and fly away, the Hearts of theſe People
fail with them: when they fall from their Honours, and lofe their Dignities, they
know not how to breath in any other Air, nor how to want the Courtship and Re-
fpects that were wont to be paid their Power and Intereft, not their Perfons. When
they lofe their Credit and Efteem, and fink in their Reputation, whether deſervedly.
or no, they are dejected to the loweft Ebb, they are afraid that every Eye that looks.
upon them, views them with Contempt, and that every Tongue is evermore re-
proaching them, which makes them afhamed of Light, and weary of Living.
Riches indeed are of great Ufe to the making Life eafy; but the Happineſs of
Man's Life does not depend upon Abundance of Wealth.: Some are Happy in a lit
tle, and all may be happier in less than they imagine: But, not to, philofophize too.
much upon this Head, get what you can with Innocence and Honefty, with Vir-
tue, and the Fear of God; and keep what you can with Juftice to your Neighbour,,
and Charity to the Poor. That Poverty which I have now in my Eye, and which
is fometimes the dreadful Occafion of the mischievous Defigns Fam ſpeaking againſt;
that Poverty is not, ufually, the Want of Riches, which we never could obtain,
but which we once were Maſters of, and have loft, either by Accident, or viciouſly
mif-fpent. It is the Remembrance of our former Affluence, that makes our preſent
Want' fo hard and infupportable, even when we are undone by unforeſeen Calamities,
and had no faulty Hand in bringing ourſelves into theſe Streights. Yet fuch a Po-
verty as this, tho attended with all Men's Pity, and no Reproach or Blame, is
fometimes fo laid to Heart, that the Man will not endure to live under it than
which there can be no Refolution more weak and unreaſonable, tho' it were not fin-
ful. Can one think the Life of Man fhould lie fo much at the Mercy of every Ac-
cident, that may deprive one of one's temporal Eſtate? The Mifery, ſhould ſeem much
greater, where our own Vice has brought this Poverty upon us, and our Ill-huſbandry.
reduced us to Extremity; for there we reflect upon our own Folly, and find it. was
we ourſelves that did ourſelves this Mifchief; and as we bare the Smart, fo we bare
the Blame alone: When the Providence of God afflicts us, we fubmit to that; when
the Malice of Man afflicts us, we lay the Fault there, and think of doing ourſelves
Right, too often, by fevere Revenges. And when we afflict ourſelves, we can no
more help condemning ourſelves, than others; and fometimes take, we fee, as ſe-
vere Revenges on ourſelves, as we would on others. We must therefore take as
:
much
348
Against Self-Murther.
ค
>
much Care not to bring ourſelves to theſe Extremities by ill Management, and vici-
ous Courſes, as we muſt not to provoke others to do us as great Miſchiefs; becauſe
the Suffering is generally the fame, and the Confequence, fometimes, m uch worſe,
and the End is Self-deſtruction. The Reproaches Men's own Hearts make them,
when they have ruined themſelves and their Families by Folly and wicked Courſes,
are often fo ſharp and painful, that, with all the Spirit and Courage they can get,
they cannot bear up under them: And this is an Effect fo fure and conftant, that
when it does not end in fuch deadly Violences, yet it ends in all manner of ſottiſh,
looſe, and wicked Courſes: And therefore Care, Sobriety, and frugal Courſes are the
beft, if not the only Prefervatives, againſt that furious Outrage, or that violent Grief,
that the Senſe of fuch a faulty Poverty throws Men oft into. A little Wiſdom,
moderate Reſolutions, and ftrength of Mind, will keep a Man right at firſt, and
hold him in the Ways of Goodneſs and Virtue; when a great deal of every one
will be neceffary to recal him, when he once has wandered. You do not know
what a Change of Mind, a Change of Fortune, fo much to the worſe, will work
in you, nor how you will be able to ftruggle with fuch Difficulties. Take Care
therefore, in Time, to avoid the dangerous Experiment: The Reflections on your
wicked Extravagancies will not make fuch Impreffions, it may be, on your Mind,
whilſt you are able to feed, and continue them on, as they will, when all is gone;
and you have nothing to divert you, but are left to be confumed, and eaten up (as
it were) by them.
One is almoſt aſhamed to warn People of falling into Poverty, occafioned by
their Vice, for fear of Self-Murther; but that fuch Poverty is, now and then, the
Occafion of fuch Violence, and the Fear of Want, the Parent of fuch defperate Re-
folutions. It is eaſy to ſee what muſt be faid on theſe Occafions, when People have
brought themſelves to a Morfel of Bread; namely that it is an ill Way of repairing
their paſt Folly and Wickedneſs by one to come, that will exceed them all, as much
as Heaven is higher than the Earth: That the Mifery they endure will end in
Death at laſt, and it may be it will come quickly; and that the Sins that brought
them to that Mifery, will be forgiven upon Repentance, be they never fo great and
many: Whereas the Courſe they pitch upon to relieve themſelves, is a Sin that ad-
mits of no Repentance, and configns them to Pains and Sorrows that will have no
End. Theſe are Arguments that cannot poffibly be anſwered; but for fear they
ſhould come too late, when Men are deaf to Reaſon, and the Mind is obftinately
bent upon its wicked Purpofe ( as deep Woes do ftrangely fix the Reſolution ) it were
much better that they ſhould prevent their coming into fuch Neceffities, as lay them
open to theſe Temptations, by living in Sobriety, Temperance, and fuch Good-huf-
bandry, as well befits their Eftate and Condition.
Pre-eminence, moreover, Dignities, and Offices of Honours, are not only uſeful,
but abfolutely neceffary to the good Government of the World; and without them
there would be no Peace, no Order, no Society, or Civil Commerce among Men ;
and therefore they are, all of them, the Matter of a very lawful, laudable Ambi-
tion: And he who defireth an Office and Employ of Honour, provided he intend
to diſcharge it well, and to do the Good that Office requires, does nothing but
what he
may Honeftly do, altho' he alſo have his Eye upon the Recompence that
goes along with it, and without it, would not undertake it. But then Men fhew the
Weakneſs of their Minds, when they have tied themſelves ſo cloſe and faſt to theſe
Employs and Honours, that when they come to part with them, it is as if their
very Hearts were rent afunder; and they are full of deep Refentment, or a Sadneſs
that is never to be removed, and oft precipitates their Death, and fometimes too by
Violence. And though it does not often happen, that Men, who fall from their
Honours
Against Self-Marther.
349
Honours and great Employs, do thefe cruel Violences to themfelves, yet it fome
times does: And I am ſpeaking now to a Practice that, God be thanked, never can
be common; but yet which happens much too often, even as often as it happens.
And to make this Head more ufeful, it is certain that People of leffer Fortune
and Figure are as much tranfported with Rage and Refentment, and take as mifchie-
vous Refolutions at their little Diſappointments and low Falls, in their low Stations, as
the greateſt do at theirs, that make more Noiſe by falling higher: And therefore
have equal need of taking Care, that the Love of Superiority, and Preference; and
Diſtinction, take not fuch faft rooting in their Minds; but that if the Time of
yielding come, they may do it without Impatience, Rage, and deep Reſentment.
Credit, Efteem and Reputation, are alfo, in the laft Place, fo ufeful to the Well-
being of Men, that all imaginable Care is to be taken to gain them, and fecure
them. There is not that Man in the World, but would be in the good Opinion
of all he knows, and all that know him; nothing is eaſier to the Mind, nothing
more uſeful to him, in all his Affairs, than that all Men fhould think well of him.
Even the Conſcience of our Innocence, and the full Certainty we have that we have
not deferved an ill Reputation with this or that Man, cannot fo fortify our Minds,
but fome Concern will arife in us, when we think thereon; and we had rather
much ſtand right in their Opinion, though we have nothing to fear from them,
nor any thing to hope for at their Hands. We are made ſo to depend upon one
another, on purpoſe that we may do each other all good Offices: And the Bottom
and Spring of all good Deeds being the good Opinion of their Deferts to whom
they are done, it is neceffary we ſhould think well of other People; and as necef-
fary to be well thought of by them, in order to receive their Favour. Upon theſe
Accounts it is, that we fee all Men fo extreamly careful to preferve and defend their
Reputation and good Name: And therefore it is no Wonder, if the Lofs, or Dan-
ger of it, affect Men very much, and fenfibly afflict them: A Man, without it,
thinks he lives amongſt a Band of Enemies, who are only reſtrained by Fear, from
doing him all manner of Miſchief; or, if not this, yet that he is the Subject of
their daily Scorn, which is falling lower, than if he were the Subject of their An-
ger or Revenge, becauſe he would be thereby reckoned more confiderable:
It is hard, that that which is fo uſeful and delightful to every Man, fhould be
loft fo very eafily; but fo it must needs be with a Thing that is not in our own
keeping, but in every Body's elfe, to give or take away, as Intereft or Humour
pleafes. But though this be true in the general, that our Reputation depends upon
other People; yet (to do the World Juftice) a Man's Reputation with his Friends
and Acquaintance, and fuch as know him pretty well, is very much in his own
Hands, and will depend, in the Main, upon his Virtue and Difcretion; the firft of
which is his inward Guide, and directing Principle; the latter, to govern his exte-
riour Carriage and Behaviour. And therefore, an honeſt and prudent Man will
keep up his Reputation with thoſe who know him: His Honefty will make his
Actions good and honeſt, and his Prudence will provide they fhall be done in the
beſt Manner. And when both Infide and the Appearance are right, a Man will
hardly be in Danger of lofing his Reputation with thoſe he values moft, and would
be beſt eſteemed by; although he may with fuch as know him not, and take
up every Thing on truft. But indeed, the Infamy, Difgrace, and Shame that drive
Men to thoſe wicked Practices we are now efpecially intending to divert Men
from, are generally grounded, not on Malice or Miſtake, (though much of both
is ſeen in all great Accufations) but upon Facts that are truly infamous and wicked:
Men have done fomething that is either exceedingly unworthy of themſelves, or
miſchievous to others, which excites both Amazement and Abhorrence in thoſe
who hear of it, and raiſes fo loud a Cry againſt the Actors; that, ftriking firſt
2 Y y
upon
350
Against Self-Murther.
upon
the Imagination ſtrongly, is never after out of their Ear; they think they hear
of nothing but their Infamy, and that all Mouths are full of their Reproaches, and
that every Look and Geſture fpeaks Contempt and Indignation at them: And
fancying themſelves to be thus unacceptable to all Abroad, and feeling themſelves
guilty at Home, there arifes in their Minds fuch a Mixture of Grief and Shame,
Vexation, Fear, Remorfe, and other different Paffions, that they are almoſt ſtrang-
led with the rifing of their own Thoughts: And, to deliver themſelves from that
infupportable Oppreffion, run headlong into Death, by the firft Way their poor dif-
ordered Fancy prompts them to. The only Way therefore to avoid theſe dread-
ful Miſchiefs, is, to continue in the Ways of Reaſon and Virtue, to be guilty of
no Extravagancies, nor any fuch Practices, as draw the Hatred or Contempt of the
World after them. And it is eaſier far to preferve our felves from theſe notorious
Crimes and Follies, than, when they are committed, to guard our Minds againſt
the wicked Suggeſtions they may offer. A Man in Innocence has a mighty Com-
mand over himſelf, above what he has, when Guilt, and Shame, and Fear have
taken a full Poffeffion of him, bewildered his Thoughts, diffipated all his Recol-
lection, and enfeebled his Judgment.
I am ſtill for preventing Miſchief, rather than remedying it, becauſe it is both
more eaſy, and more fafe. And although there is no Reaſon, but is ſtrong enough
to difparage and baffle all that can be faid in the Behalf of theſe violent Attempts
againſt our felves, when we are ſafe, and well, and free from any fuch Fears,
and in no Danger of theſe Temptations: Yet when Men come into thoſe perillous
Hours, and fall into thoſe Straits and Trials, they are generally deaf to all Reaſon
and Argument, and liften only to the Suggeſtions of their prefent Paffions; they
do not answer, but they do not hearken, to what is faid: So that if they be not
prepared before-hand to withſtand fuch Affaults, they feldom do it, when the Dan-
ger comes. Abithophel could much more eafily have avoided practiſing againſt his
King, and entring a Confederate with rebellious Abfalom, than, being once entred,
could avoid giving the moſt pernicious Counſel to make the Breach between the
Father and the Son irreconcileable, and, to cut the War fhort, by the Surprize of
David, to fecure himſelf and Party: He could more eafily have ſtayed at Home,
and been concerned with neither Party; than, being once engaged, to bear another's
Counſel being preferred to his, and ſee himſelf neglected: He could more eaſily
have followed David, and fhared with him in the worſt Fortune that could befal
him (even though it had been to die with him) than, having made him his Enemy,
to think of falling into his Hands, and dying the Death of Traytors. Here were a
great many Things for him to chooſe, more fafe and honourable than what he
chofe And it was much more eaſy for him to chooſe any of them, than, having
choſen amifs, and involved himſelf in great Dangers, to bear up, like a Man, un-
der them, and not to be overcome with Shame and Fear, and take fuch deſperate
Reſolutions, as he did. By all which, I mean to fay, that Men have it much more
in their Power to keep themſelves Innocent, and out of Difficulties and great Straits;
than, being once guilty and involved, to deliver themfelves (not from their Dan-
gers, but) from the diſtracted Counfels, and Suggeſtions, their Minds in fuch Con-
fufion offer them; although they be fuch, as they themſelves, when ſafe and ſober
minded, would have ſtartled at and abhorred. They think it a Point of Wiſdom,
in their Straits, to embrace fuch Counſel, as would have been accounted mad, and
fenfeleſs, in Proſperity. One Argument, therefore, to perfwade Men to preſerve
themſelves innocent and upright, and not to engage in Things hazardous and dif-
ficult, for fear the Difappointment fhould be too much for them; and their dif-
tracted Mind ſhould put them upon miſchievous and wicked Refolves: One fuch
Argument,
Against Self-Murther.
35 I
Argument, I fay, is better, and like to prevail more than Twenty very fair and rea-
fonable ones, when the Judgment is perverted, and the Underſtanding almoft loft,
and the Man is overwhelmed with Mifery, neither inclined to ask, nor capable of
taking Counſel, when it is offered him.
And thus, in Cafes, where Religious Melancholy is the prevailing Humour, and
drives poor People to theſe fad Extremities; how much eafier and fafer is it, to fecure
them at firſt from taking in fuch Principles as occafion thefe difquiet and perplexing
Thoughts; than, having taken thém in, to fecure them againſt the Power and In-
fluence of thoſe Thoughts? Can any Thing be more reaſonable to believe, than
that God is the very beſt of Beings? That he tranfcends all other Beings, as much
in Goodneſs, as in Power and Wiſdom? That that Notion is formed as foon in our
Minds, and enters as much into the Compofition of the Deity, as any other? That
a Being thus abfolutely, and thus neceffarily good, can never intend any Thing un-
merciful or cruel; that it would be cruel and unmerciful for him, to make a Crea-
ture, with deſign of making it unfpeakably miferable; that therefore this neither is,
nor can be done by him; that therefore no Man was ever defigned by God, origi-
nally and primarily, to be miſerable in the World to come; but only made capable
of being ſo, by finning voluntarily and deliberately; and upon that Suppofition,
of being puniſhed, and confequently miferable. But this will fhew Men faulty,
and God juft, in puniſhing Offenders: That, whereas they think they ground this
hard Opinion of God upon his revealed Will in Scripture; they might confider,
that if any fuch Thing appeared Literally, yet that that could hardly be the Senſe.
of the Place, which would deſtroy our natural Notions of the Godhead (as this
Pre-ordination to eternal Mifery would deftroy the natural Notions we have of God's
Juftice and Goodnefs:) And next to that, might remember, that when Man fell
into Sin, and muſt have periſhed in it, God was fo tranfcendently Merciful, as pre-
fently to promife, and in his own due Time effected, the fending his only Son into
the World, that the World through him might be faved: That this his Son did actual-
ly come into the World, and live for our Example and Inſtruction, and die for our
Redemption, and made Satisfaction to God for all the Sins of the World; and, for
the Merit of theſe Sufferings, was advanced to God's right Hand in Heaven, and
made the Head of the Church; who before his going up to Heaven, commiffioned
his Apoftles to preach to all the World, and teach them, that if they repented of
their Sins, would believe in Jefus Chrift, and be baptized in Matter and Form, as
he required, and live in Obedience to God's Word, they ſhould certainly be forgiven
and faved. That theſe Invitations and Calls to Faith, to Repentance and Baptiſm,
and to Rewards upon Conditions, were all of them inconfiftent with, and contra-
dictory to all manner of Predeftination to Wickedneſs and Puniſhment: And that
the whole Deſign of the Goſpel is overturned by ſuch a Scheme of Cruelty, and
horrible Injuſtice; and that fuch Notions do utterly root out the Love of God from
all Men's Hearts, and reprefent him worſe, than one can do his Adverſary; in as
much as Revenge is ſomewhat better, than deliberate, unprovoked, and undeſerved
Cruelty. It is eaſier, I fay, to perfwade People, that God neither has, nor can pre-
deftinate any one to Mifery; than, when they are once prefwaded of ſuch Doctrine,
to divert them from the Confequences of it, that naturally may, tho' they do not al-
ways follow, either Careleſneſs under the Security of their Predeſtination to Life, or
Deſpair under the Certainty of being loft for ever. I cannot tell how Men come
to be perfwaded to believe fuch hard Things of God, who is Goodneſs it ſelf, as
they never did or could believe of any Man living, though very bad, and their
greateſt Enemy : But it is eaſy to fee, that when they do believe theſe Things, they are
capable
{
352
Against Self-Murther.
capable of no Advice, or Comfort, if once they apply them to themſelves, and take
the dark Side.
Tell a Man, who labours under the Senſe of much and frequently repeated Sin,
and is ready to die under God's Difpleafure; and is feeking out forbidden Means;
tell him, that the Mercies of God in Jefus Christ are infinite, and that though
his Sins be never fo heinous, both for Weight and Number, yet they will all be par-
doned on Repentance and Amendment, and his Soul be purified by the precious Blood
of Chrift; and he may turn his Heart to God; repent him of his Sins, and fall from
his cruel Refolutions, and become a new Mah. But bid him throw away that In-
ſtrument of Death, he has fo carefully provided, when he believes he lies under the
Sentence of God's Wrath, and fealed to Death by a Decree that is not to be re-
verſed; and you do but talk to the Waves of the Sea, or the Winds, that hear as
little. I know no Argument that can wreft away the Sword, that fuch a Perfwa-
fion puts into a Man's Hand. And, that fuch hard Opinions have no worſe nor fre-
quenter ill Confequences, is owing all to the Grace and Goodneſs of God. They
are fitted to do more Miſchief, but God is ftill the Governour of all, and loves us
better than we do ourſelves, or think he does, and prevents us from doing ourſelves
Miſchief, by our reaſoning falfly againſt him, becauſe he ſees us ignorant, and not
malicious.
The Occafion Abhithophel took of deſtroying himſelf, led me to confider the Oc-
cafions that other People take to follow him in that bad Practice. And we may fee,
I think, in every one of them, (and as many others, as any one can reckon up)
that fome unlawful Paffion or other is at the Bottom, that, meeting with ſome
heavy Diſappointment, gives this naughty Counſel. Pride, that difdains to be con-
trouled; Self-conceit, that will endure no Preference, fcarce Equality; the Love of
unlawful Pleaſure, that effeminates the Mind, and makes it unable to bear any
Hardſhip or Calamity; fuch Love of Riches as makes Men fraudulent, or violent
Oppreffors, and puts them on fhameful and unjuſt Courfes, which, being detected,
give them unfpeakable Confufion both of Face and Heart; fuch Ambition of
Honours, as puts Men on unlawful Courſes to obtain them, or preſerve them,
and which they wear with Infolence, and ufe to the Hurt, and not the Defence of
their Inferiours; fo that they beget Envy and Malignity in People's Minds, and
make them wiſh for their Fall, and rejoice when it comes: The Senfe of which
makes theſe haughty Minds, when fallen, the moſt abject, pitiful, and poor ſpirited
Things that can be; well knowing that they, who have made no Friends in the
Time of their Authority, will find none when they come to lofe it ; but be treated
with the Scorn, and ill Ufage they governed others with: For no Man who hath
gained his Honours honeſtly, and uſed them moderately, and well, but will find
Reſpect and Safety when he lays them down: And Shame, and Infamy, and Dan-
ger belong only to fhameful, infamous, and injurious Practices: They who have
done no Evil, will be afraid of none. Do but live in the Credit and Eſteem, that
virtuous honeſt Practices will give, and you will never fly to Death to deliver you
from Difgrace and Infamy, from Men's Reproaches, and deſpiteful Uſage.
I do not however affirm, that in all Refolutions of the bad kind we are fpeak-
ing to, fome vicious Paffion is at the Bottom : But in general, it is, I believe, ſo:
They may proceed alfo from great Weaknefs of Mind, falfe Principles, and from
Miſtakes in Religion; which though they are not Sins, yet produce moſt fad Ef-
fects, and are only to be prevented by thinking as well of God, as they do of any
good Man they know. Nor have I taken any Pains to fhew, how little any of
theſe Cauſes or Occafions can juſtify or excufe the fad Effects of them: for having
fhewed you, I hope, before, that this Practice was forbidden of God, and confe-
quently
Against Self-Murther.
353
quently finful, I had no need to prove, that nothing can excufe a downright Sin;
but rather warn you, to avoid thofe dangerous Paths that have, we think, led
others to Deſtruction: For, he who does not look to the Temptation and the Snare,
fhall, in vain, refolve againſt the Sin and Danger to which they lead.
SERMON
II SAMUEL XVII. VERSE 23.
III.
And when Ahithophel faw that his Counfel was not followed, he
Saddled his Afs, and arofe, and gat him home to his Houfe, to
his City, and put his Houfhold in order, and hanged himſelf,
and died, and was buried in the Sepulchre of his Father.
H
AVING already (in confidering theſe Words) ſpoken, in the First place,
to the diſaſtrous End Ahithophel came to, namely, that he hanged himself
and died; and fhewed how unlawful an Act that was in him, and would
be fo in any one befides: And, in the Second, to the Occafion of it,
namely, becauſe he faw his Counsel was not followed; and fhewn from thence, that
it is evermore fome naughty Paffion at the Bottom, meeting fome Difappointment,
that irritates the Mind to fuch unreaſonable and defperate Refolutions, of which
we ought to take great Care: I am now to go on, and confider, Thirdly, that which
was previous to this Fact; He arofe, gat him home to his Houfe, to his City, and put
bis Houſhold in order: And, Laftly, what followed, he was buried with his Father.
In the Third place then, He arofe, gat him home to his Houfe, to his City, and put
his Houfhold in order. He could not long endure that Place and Company, where
the Scene of his Difgrace lay (as he thought) eſpecially: And yet, if he had rea-
foned right, he had found, that the longer he had tarried there, the more he had
been refpected; the more deftructive and unreaſonable his Rival's Advice had ap-
peared; and every Hour had. difcovered how wife and neceffary his own was, at
that Juncture: And he had feen Hufhai either flighted as a weak Counſellor, or
fufpected as a Treacherous one, and himſelf again the Oracle. But to be Second
is, it ſeems, with Statefmen, to be no Body; his Rage and Ambition would not
let him confider, nor wait for an Event that would juſtify his Wiſdom and Fore-
fight to Abfalom, and all the hafty Council of War. But this was not all; his wife
Counſel was not only defeated, but that Defeat, he faw, would prove the utter
Ruin of Abfalom, and all his Party: So that Ahithophel's Fear would no more per-
mit him to ſtay in the Camp fecure, than his Ambition would let him fit in the
Council-Chamber contented. Upon theſe Principles, He arofe, gat him home to his
own Houſe, and fet his Houshold in order. In which Words, there is nothing ob-
fervable, but that he acted very deliberately: Had he been warned of God, that he
ſhould ſhortly die, as King Hezekiah was, he could have done no more, nor other-
wife than he here did: He would have rifen, and hafted home, and have fet his Houfe
in order.
2 Zz
Here
354
Against Self-Murther.
Here is one Man in the World, at leaft, that feems to have deftroyed himself
with Deliberation, and without any viſible Marks of Diſtraction. This Thing, we
know, feldom or never happens in our own Country: Here, every one is downright
mad, that makes away himſelf by any manner of Means; he could not, elfe, act
fo againſt the Principles of Self-prefervation, the Laws of Nature, Revelation, his
own Intereſt and Honour. Theſe are the Arguments, our Pity, rather than our
Reaſon makes upon theſe ſad Occaſions; and Pity rather to the Living than the Dead.
And ſhould the Laws of the Land take no Cognizance of theſe Violences, fhould
ſuch a Death have no Confequence with refpect to the temporal Eſtate of the
furviving Relations; ten People, I believe, to one, now, would be found to be Self-
Murtherers; and the publick Judgment would (were there to be one made) be
much the fame with that of private People.
Is it not manifeft, in all Cafes befides this one, that People can and do delibe-
rately do themſelves the greateſt Miſchiefs, without any manner of Sufpicion of
having loft their Reaſon and Senfes, as thofe Words are, in this Cafe, underſtood
to fignify? Do not Men daily venture to provoke God's Vengeance, by the moſt
daring Impieties, with as much Underſtanding and Sobriety, as they fhew in any
other faultleſs Action of their Lives? Do they not venture Liberty and Life by a
thouſand Villanies, which they commit againſt each other, every Day, by a Malice
moſt perpenſe and ferious, and with moſt ſtudied Artifice, although they know
that, if diſcovered, they fhall furely pay down their Heads for what they do? Do
not Men, by Riots and Exceſs of every kind, hazard their Health and Life almoſt
évery Day they live, although they ſee the Miſchief that will follow unavoidably,
not at a Diſtance, but in View before them? Is Man fo wife and fo confiderate a
Creature, that he will not knowingly, and refolutely defy the Juftice of God and
Man, and all the Effects of Vice and Wickedneſs, and moſt audaciouſly hazard
Soul and Body, Health and Reputation, both in this World, and that to come?
And do we ſay, theſe People are distracted, and excufe them by lofs of Reafon
and Underſtanding? I am not ſaying hereby, that Self-Murtherers are no more
mad than all theſe other deſperately wicked People are: But I fay, that to conclude
a Self-Murtherer is therefore mad, becauſe he acts fo like a Madman, againſt
Nature, Reaſon, Religion, and Self-preſervation, is not a right Way of concluding:
becauſe, by the fame Rule, all the enormouſly wicked ones of the World might
be judged mad, with as much Reaſon as the others, fince, doubtleſs, they act as
much againſt all Principles of Reaſon, and Self-ſecurity, as they. And yet the
World does not conclude theſe wicked People mad; they think it is not quite
fo well with them: their Reaſon, Senfe, and Underſtanding make them account-
able to God and Man, and will most certainly condemn them.
The People, who truly want their Senfe and Underſtanding, do indeed often fall
into Miſchief, and often do great Violence to themſelves; but, generally ſpeaking,
they ſeek not Miſchief as their End, but fall into it accidentally, as blind Men
do into a Pit: They do not make it their Deſign, nor pitch upon the Means that are
moft fure and proper to effect fuch Purpofe; one may commonly fee ſome notable
Failure in their Projects: But in theſe forts of Violence there is a fixt Defign, an
End moſt ſtedfaſtly purſued; and Means moſt ſuitable and proper pitched upon,
and renewed with a moſt obſtinate Reſolution and Firmneſs, again and again, upon
a Diſappointment; there is hardly any Action of their Life carried on with more
Contrivance, than that which is to put an End to it: And if the Deſign were
right, they would be counted rather cunning Men, than mad or ſenſeleſs; ſo that
it is plain theſe People make their Judgment from the Event only, which is doubt-
lefs very wrong: For though the End be never fo naught, unreaſonable and
wicked
Against Self-Murther.
355
wicked; yet a Man is not therefore mad when he choofes it, but naught, unrea-
fonable, and wicked. A Man, indeed, is in fome fenfe mad, when he is under
the Dominion of any of his Paffions, and out of the Government of Reafon: But
becauſe a Man's Reaſon is given him by God, to govern himſelf withal, and to
keep his Paffions in good order; therefore Men do not excuſe the mifchievous Ef-
fects of any of thefe Paffions, by faying the Man was mad. And when one Man
kills another with equal Deliberation, with as much Preparation and Contrivance,
as fome Men ſhew in diſpatching themſelves; he is not commonly acquitted by
making it Man-flaughter, but found guilty of Murther: And there can be no Rea-
fon for this, but that in Self-Murther no Body elfe receives Damage, for whom the
Jury might be concerned; which fhews they rather confider the Miſchief that is
done, than the State and Difpofition of Mind with which it is done.
Neither do I, by this, intend to fay, that they who commit theſe Violences on
themſelves, are not deprived of their Senſe and Reaſon; but that it is not always ſo :
It were indeed to be wiſhed much rather, that all Self-Murtherers were truly diſtract-
ed, than that any ſhould be fo with Reaſon and Senfe entire and found. But all
the World fees the Contrary; there are many of them go about this Bufinefs as re-
gularly, leiſurely, and deliberately, as Ahithophel here did, They rife, get them to their
own home, and fet their Houfhold in order, juft as he did; they refolve on it a good
while before, they purſue it ſteadily; they fometimes juſtify this Practice, and de-
fend it by Principles; ſo that, upon ſome preffing Calamity, one may expect ſuch
an Iffue from them before it actually comes to paſs: And yet, when it comes to
paſs, it is all one; it is as if they had been ſuddenly ſeized with Frenzy, and they
had been diſtracted but an Hour before: The Jury and the Coroners fee nothing
but the fad Event, and, in Commiferation to the furviving Relations, if any thing
be to be faved to them, declare them diſtracted; and no Man but a mad Man would
deſtroy himſelf, is all that is faid to juſtify fuch a Sentence. Which is what is by
no Means true, and what they know the Contrary to, in almoſt every fingle Cafe
but this. And in this they are, as I faid, only mifguided by their Pity; they fpare
the Dead, to do fome Kindneſs to the Living; and fince no Body elfe but the Re-
lations fuffer by fuch a Violence, they fhall fuffer no more than they needs muft,
by the natural Confequences of ſuch a Lofs.
Too much Pity cannot, indeed, be fhewn to thoſe who are made fo miferable
by theſe violent Deaths: But who can tell but lefs Pity would be needful, if lefs
Pity were ſhewn, on fuch Occafions? The ſtricteſt Diſcipline, in Camps, is attend-
ed with fewer Executions than if it were more remifs: And a fevere exacting Juf-
tice, in Execution of the Laws, prevents abundance of Offences in the Civil State.
And there are fewer Duels in France than England, although the Country is, with-
out compare, much larger, and the Humours of that People much more volatile,
and eaſy to be moved than ours: And this, for a Reafon very obvious, and re-
proachful to us, namely, that few or none are ever pardoned; but Juftice is there
as blind and relentleſs, as the Rage of Men, that makes work for her, is here.
Who can tell, but a feverer Sentence paſt upon Self-Murtherers, would make fewer
of them? And the utter Ruin of fome few Fatherlefs and Widows, prevent a great
many more from being Fatherleſs and Widows? The Laws of almoſt all wife Na-
tions, have had that in their Eye, in enacting Penalties: They have punished
Wife and Children, and undone whole Families, for the Offence of a fingle Per-
fon, the Head of them, not for want of knowing how innocent they were, but
with Intention of reftraining thofe Heads within the Bounds of Duty, for fear of
hazarding and hurting thoſe who were fo innocent, and whom they loved, and
were obliged to love, and to fecure from Want, and Shame, and Mifery, and
make
356
Against Self-Murther.
make as happy as they could: Following herein the Example of God himself, Wo
will vifit, he ſays, the Children to the third and fourth Generation of them who hate
him; i. e. who keep not that Commandment of abhorring Idols, with no other pur-
pofe, than to keep the Fathers faithful to his Service.
It were therefore to be wiſhed, that an Experiment of this Kind were now and
then made, to ſee if it might not be more uſeful to the preventing theſe Misfor-
tunes, than the merciful Courſes that are now generally taken, to bring in all Dif
tracted, and ſo abſolve them all from any legal Suffering, and puniſhing neither the
Dead with Infamy, nor the Living with any Lofs of Eſtate or Goods.
The Confideration of difgracing and undoing Wife, and Children, and Family,
is intended, we ſee by the Laws, to reftrain the Fathers of Houſes from offending,
who would be more at Liberty, if they themſelves were only concerned, and were
not to involve thoſe near Relations in Ruin: Why ſhould not this have its Influence
alſo, to prevent fome Self-Murthers, if the utter undoing of Wife and Children (as
far as Lofs of all temporal Eftate will do it) were fure to follow fuch a Violence?
The Laws intend it ſhould; and it is reaſonable to hope fome good Effects would
follow, if fuch Laws were duly executed. And can any one tell, whether they, who
will always fhew Mercy, when Juſtice is due, do not encourage thofe Misfortunes by
their Pity, and make Men eaſier to deſtroy themſelves, becauſe they ſee it will have
no worſe Confequence to their Relations, than if they died a natural Death? Theſe
Things are furely of fome Confideration. And if fome Examples were wifely made,
they might deter a great many raſh and wicked Enterprizes of this Nature.
And ſo might alſo the Confideration of what I am about to ſay, under the fourth
and laft Head, concerning what followed this wicked Fact of Ahithophel; and that
is, that he was buried in the Sepulchre of his Father. Jofephus fays indeed, (De B. J.
1. 3. c. 14.) that if any amongſt the Jews kill themſelves, it is decreed, that till the
Sun go down, they ſhall be unburied. This does not appear any where in the Law
of Moſes; and the Example of Abithophel, in the Text, is againft it; for he, we ſee,
was buried, and that in the Sepulchre of his Father: So that this Decree was made
in After-times, by Civil Authority, and it reached no farther than not burying by
Day-light; as if Self-Murther were to be counted a Deed of Darkneſs, and treated
accordingly.
Among the Greeks, Ariftotle fays, it was generally received, that the dead Bodies
of Self-Murtherers ſhould be diſgraced fome way or other; and they could find no
other way to do it, than by denying them Burial. So when an unaccountable Fren-
zy had ſeized the Milefian Maids, and they hanged themſelves in great Numbers,
the Magiſtrates knew not how to repreſs, and put a ſtop to this growing mad Hu-
mour, but by ordering them to be carried out to Burial naked, with the Cords about
their Necks, which they had uſed to that bad purpoſe: And the Senſe of this Dif-
honour had, by good Fortune, the intended Effect; for the reft were ſo moved at
the ſhameful Spectacle, that they fell into their old Sobriety and Order again, and
made no more Attempts of that kind: And yet, Gellius fays, from Plutarch, that
theſe poor Creatures were under the Power of a Diftemper; but the Fear of fuch
an infamous Burial, brought them to their Senfes again: And fo we may obferve, I
think, that in moſt of theſe light Diſtractions, the Reaſon is not ſo entirely loſt, but
that the Parties are capable of fome fort of Arguments, and reſtrained by ſome par-
ticular Confiderations, and Motives, of Love, or Fear, or Shame, or Honour.
The Chriſtians alſo have thought fit (to fhew in what Degree of Abhorrence they
had this Practice) to deny them Chriftian Burial, who have laid violent Hands upon
themſelves; and (not to trouble myſelf, or you, with what hath been the Practice
heretofore of the antient Chriftians, or is now of other Churches) it is directed fo,
in
!
357
Against Self-Murther.
in the first Rubric, before our Burial-fervice; which is, you know, confirmed by
Act of Parliament; by which it becomes a Law of the Land, as well as of the
Church. They are there ranked with Perfons Unbaptized, and fuch as die Excommu-
nicated; by which we may conclude, the reckons not Self-Murtherers among the
Number of the Faithful; nor accounts them to be true Chriftians, and therefore
cannot have that Hope of them, as ſhe has of other Believers, who die in the Faith
of Chriſt, and with Repentance, (for ought that appears ;) and therefore cannot fay
the fame Things of them in her Publick Prayers.
And as the Church denies them Chriftian Burial, fo the Civil Government did
heretofore appoint they fhould be put into the Earth, and left there with a lafting
Mark of Infamy; They were to have a Stake driven through them, which was not to
be removed.
•
But notwithſtanding both theſe Penalties, intended both by Church and State, to
deter all others from the like unnatural and wicked Attempts, by theſe Difgraces and
Diſhonours done to the Dead, they are now buried as other good Chriftians are, be-
cauſe they are brought in Distracted. And if it be indeed fo, there is no Reafon
why either the Civil Power ſhould mark them with any Infamy, or why the Church
fhould not have good Hope of them, who, tho' unfortunate, are yet as much in
God's Favour, as thoſe who are vifited with any other Diftemper, and happen to die,
(as many do) without their Reaſon, and Senfes. No Body can, with any Reaſon,
conclude ought to the Prejudice of People that are truly Diftracted; for they are
not Mafters of themſelves, nor confequently accountable for what they do, or omit
to do: For Revelation being the Rule by which they are to walk, with reſpect to
God, and Reaſon being the Faculty or Power by which they are to apply that
Rule, their Rule muft needs be unapplied, by their Defect of Reafon. Now if the
Civil Power has placed it in the Hands of a Jury, to determine whether fuch a
Self-Murtherer were Diſtracted or no, and made them the proper Judges; I do not
fee but that, as the State does, ſo muſt the Church acquieſce in ſuch a Judgment,
as thoſe legally impowered Men think fit to give. As Judges themſelves give Sen-
tence, not always according to their private Perſwaſion or Belief, but according to
the publick Verdict of the Jury. This I fay the rather, becauſe it is, perhaps,
the proper Juftification of the Clergy, when any of theſe Self-Murtherers are buri-
ed according to Form. They are directed by the publick Judgment, and not by
their private Opinion: For fhould a Man be accidentally found dead, and the Jury
ſhould think fit to bring him in guilty of Self-Murther, the Miniſter, tho' he believed
the contrary never fo firmly, muſt not yet bury that Man according to Form; be-
cauſe the Law is his Rule of Acting, and not his private Belief. The Law fays,
that Self-Murtherers, or thoſe who lay violent Hands upon themſelves, fhall not be
buried in fuch a Manner; but the Law does not fay, who are Self-Murtherers, but
leaves that to ſuch and fuch particular People; the Miniſter of the Law is therefore,
in this Point, to know who are Self-Murtherers, from their Mouth, not from his
own, nor yet from the Opinion of the Publick. Now if a Miniſter may not bury
the Dead, which are brought in guilty of Self-Murther, tho' he believe verily they
died a natural Death, only becauſe the Law fays, Self-Murtherers fhall not be fo
buried; how ſhould he be obliged to refuse burying the Dead, which are by Law
brought in Diſtracted, altho' he may well fufpect they died by Violence, and with
Deliberation? i.e. Why fhould not the Law be his Rule in one Caſe, as well as it is
in the other? if the Scruple be, that the Rubric does not determine whether theſe
People be diſtracted or not, in their Senfes, or out of them: But only whether they
laid violent Hands on themſelves, or no? The Anſwer is, That a violent Death is
oppoſed to a natural one, which is not chofen, but unavoidable; but People may
2 Aaa
be
!
358
Against Self-Murther.
}
be poiſoned through Ignorance and Miſtake, and they may fall from a Precipice j
and they may ſhoot themſelves accidentally and the Event is the fame as if they
had choſen theſe Deaths, but not the Fault; and there muſt be ſome, who are to
judge whether they were Voluntary or Cafual. And it is not to be prefumed the
Church would condemn fuch as died theſe Deaths, tho' violent, yet accidentally,
nor deny them the Favour of her Chriftian Offices; ſhe muſt therefore truſt fome
People to judge, whether theſe People died Voluntarily or Cafually, and her private
Miniſters muſt be determined by this Judgment: And fince true Diftraction is as
innocent and blameleſs, as any other Ignorance or Miſtake can be, ſhe will no more
deny her Chriſtian Offices to one, than to the other: And therefore if a Chrittian,
truly Diſtracted, lay violent Hands upon himſelf, fhe may as well hope well of him,
as of one who died a violent Death, by Poiſon, falling from a Precipice, or acci-
dental Shot, and confequently bury him in Form, as fhe does, I think, the other.
And in this Cafe ſhe trufts the fame People with judging and determining, who
they are that lay violent Hands upon themſelves, that the Civil Power trufts; and
ſhe acts according to their Judgment, and not according to the private Judgment of
her ſeveral Minifters, Ecclefiaftical or Civil. This, I think, will juftify the Clergy,
from contracting any Irregularity, by burying in Form thofe who are brought in
Diſtracted, as well as it will the Civil Officers, for not feizing on the Eftate and
Effects of the Deceafed, which are forfeited by Law, if they were not Diftracted;
altho' both Civil and Ecclefiaftical Minifters may be perfwaded, that the Parties de-
ceaſed were indeed Self-Murtherers; becauſe the Laws do not truſt them to judge,
but to execute according to the Judgment of other People. You fee then, that the
whole Matter devolves upon the Jury; and therefore, if the conſtant Mitigation of
the Rigours of the Law againſt Self-Murtherers, be any manner of Encouragement
to fall into that Practice, it will behove the Jury to confider well, whether the
favourable Verdict they generally bring in, be always fo Righteous and ſo Seaſon-
able as they imagine: Whether, fince the Wiſdom of the Laws intends, that the
Confiſcation of Eſtates, the Undoing a Family, the ſhameful Burial ſhe appoints,
and the Denial of Chriftian Offices, fhall deter Men from theſe horrible Attempts,
the Mercy that defeats all theſe Intentions fo conftantly, be not more likely to con-
tinue on, than to repreſs theſe cruel Violences. This is what I faid will deferve to be
better confidered, than it commonly is : For fuch is the natural Affection a Man bears
to his Wife and Children, Family and Dependents; fuch is the Reſpect he has to his
own Fame, ſuch the Kindneſs he bears even to his own dead Body, that were he
fure his Eftate would be forfeited, and his Effects carried from his Family; were he
fure he ſhould be buried in the Highway, and with a Stake driven through him as
a Mark of huge Infamy, and fure he ſhould not be buried like a Chriſtian, with
thoſe laſt Offices, perhaps he would give way to calmer Counfels, and be content to
bear his Shame, or Pain, or Lofs, till God faw fit to put an End to all his Sufferings
by natural Means. And therefore an Inftance or two of ſuch Severity as is legal,
well and wifely chofen, might prove a greater Prefervative againſt theſe Violences,
than ſuch a conftant and expected Mercy, as we always find, on theſe Occaſions:
For Men have now no Fear of Laws; and when they have laid afide the Fear of
God, they go about this Bufineſs with great Readineſs, they are ſure of Favour in
this World, and they will venture the other.
may
1
And if it be thought, that the Men who will venture God's Diſpleaſure, will
be little moved with any leffer Confideration of this Life, every Day's Experience
convince us of the Contrary, and fhew us, that God is offended much more
cheaply, and eafily, than any Neighbour we have, and that we really value his An-
ger, and his Threatnings lefs, than the leaſt legal Penalties: However, it were good
•
to
Against Self-Murther.
359
to try, how and then, whether the Execution of the Laws made to deter Men
from Self-Murther, would not have better Effect, than the Courſes that are generally
taken, we ſee, have. And the Examples fhould be made (if one might chooſe)
of fome fuch as have lived very riotoufly and looſely, and ſpent almoft all their
Subſtance; and fuch as have juftified and defended, in their Lives, the like Practice
in other People, maintaining it by Principles. The riotous and loofe Livers would
deferve this Ufage beft, and they would find the leaft Pity from the ferious Part
of Mankind; and fuch a Puniſhment might be a Check to others, and keep them
within bounds, and make them better Huſbands, which is a Thing of more Con-
quence than People imagine, Frugality being the Parent of many Virtues, and a Re-
ſtraint to many Vices and Enormities. And if they, who have been known to
juſtify theſe Practices by Principles, whilst they lived, were fure to be made Ex-
amples above others; it might help to reftrain others from taking fuch Liberties
in Diſcourſe, and from encouraging, thereby, thoſe who would not, it may be,
be fo forward, without thofe bad Inftructors. Such People will beft deſerve to be
difgraced, and treated with all Rigour, becauſe they do not only do this Wicked-
neſs themſelves, but endeavour to propagate their deſtructive Principles, and fuch
would meet with leaſt Compaffion; which Thing is always to be heeded in ma-
king Examples.
There will be room enough for Pity, and a tender Regard, to fuch whofe
unhappy Conſtitution, Make, and Frame, wrong Education; falfe and miftaken
Principles; with great Weakness both of Body and Mind; long and continued
Pains, and dreadful and amazing Calamities, have driven to thefe Extremities.
If Laws and Rules are ever to be broken, it were for fuch whofe Miferies intitle
them to all the World's Pity, and who have lived a regular, a fober, virtuous, nay,
and a religious Life. There, one has room to think, theſe violent Deaths might
proceed from incurable Melancholy, and true Diftraction; and not from fudden,
defperate, and impious Refolutions, which are ufually the Fruits of a Life paffed
in luxurious, vicious and ungodly Courſes; when at laft Men find themſelves over-
taken with dreadful Poverty, or fee the Infamy and Ruin that has long been owing
to them, come upon them with a Force that is not to be withſtood by ſuch as
have abuſed their Reaſon, and neglected all Religion. And indeed, without Re-
ligion, both Reaſon and Virtue will be found deficient, under theſe Temptations,
if Reaſon and Virtue ever can be found without Religion. Take away the Belief of
God, and the Life of the Soul, and of Rewards and Puniſhments in the other World,
and the Miſeries of human Life may fometimes be fo preffing, that all the Confi-
derations this World can afford, will hardly make it tolerable. But when a Man
confiders himſelf to be a Creature of God's making, and ſubject to his Laws and
Government by all the Reaſon in the World, and to the common Difpenfations of
his Providence, and confequently not at Liberty to withdraw himſelf from the
Service appointed to him; and tied, moreover, by Command, and, if a Chriſtian,
by voluntary Undertaking, to ſubmit to the Will of God, in all Conditions of Life;
to accept the Evil with the Good, to be thankful for the one, and to improve un-
der the other, by making good Uſe of it: When he confiders this, and that there
is alſo a Life to come, where it will be impoffible to fly from God, (though we
fhould do it here) and that the Miferies, our Diſobedience and Impatience here would
entail upon us, are in no fort to be compared with thoſe which we eſcape by Death
(which, tho' exceeding fharp, are yet not capable of being very long) when theſe, and
fuch like Confiderations, as Religion will fupply the Mind with, come to Mens
Affiftance in their Streights, they will, with the Grace of God, vanquish the ſtrong-
eft Temptations to thefe Violences. We must therefore oppofe the Will and Com-
mand
360
Against Self-Murther.
mand of God, to the Defires of preſent Eaſe we have, in our Diſtreſs, and the fu-
ture Miſchiefs of his Diſpleaſure, to the preſent ones we labour under, whether of
Fear, or Pain, or Shame. And we fhall then fee, to whether Side it is fitteft to
incline; whether the fhort Afflictions which are here, as it were but for a
Moment, may be compared with the Wrath of God, which abideth for ever.
In a
Word, unleſs the Mind be fortified with Arguments of Religion, and Confidera-
tions of the other Life, our natural Fortitude and Patience will yield to many vio-
lent Temptations, that befet Men in this Vale of Mifery. And therefore, few At-
tempts of this kind are made, till either Religion is wholly maſtered, and its Impref-
fions quite effaced, or Men are ſo mifguided, as to think theſe Miſchiefs may be
done, and Religion (as not concerned) be ſafe notwithſtanding. But it is more con-
fiftent with Reafon to lay afide all Religion, and disbelieve the whole, than,
allowing the Juſtice of God, and the Life of the World to come, to think theſe
Self-Murtherers are not to account feverely for the Violences they have offered to
themſelves, if they are not indeed (what they are commonly reputed) quite loft to
Reaſon, and diſtracted; of which God will judge much better than we can do.
As for thoſe unhappy People, who lying under the dreadful Apprehenfion of
God's Anger, accounting themfelves Veffels of Wrath, and fitted for Deftruction;
and not being able to live under the Torment of that Thought, put an End to their
miferable Lives; as they are moſt to be pitied whilft alive, ſo there ſeems to be
the greateſt Reaſon for ſparing them when dead, fince nothing in the World can
look ſo like Diſtraction as that Diftemperature of Brain, which makes them reaſon
and act ſo ſtrangely: For if they are, indeed, Veffels of Wrath; Is this the Way
to give them any Eafe? If they believe themſelves configned to Pain and Miſery in
the other World, what do they get by throwing themſelves into that Place of Tor-
ment before their Time? This is to die for fear of Death, and indeed a great
deal worſe.
When condemned Criminals prevent their legal Puniſhment by diſpatching them-
felves, they think they fave themfelves the Shame of dying publickly by infamous
Hands: Vain Imagination that! But what can theſe poor People propoſe to them-
felves, by falling into the Hands of the Living God a great deal fooner than (even
according to their own Fears) they need to do, if they would live as long as God
would let them? Can any Thing be liker Madneſs than this, under ſuch Perſwa-
fion? But fuch Perfwafion is, itfelf, the Maddeft that a Chriftian can be filled
with. Theſe People are, very frequently, very good People; or if they have been
Sinners, they have long repented, and amended. It is the Senfe of their Guilt that
lies fo heavy on them; they would give all the World to be forgiven; they believe
in God, and in Jefus Chrift, the Refurrection, Life everlaſting, and the World to
come: They believe that Chrift died to fave Sinners: They do not know one Sin-
ner in the World, befides themſelves, for whom they do not think that Chriſt died,
if that Sinner would repent, and believe the Gofpel. Is it not near to Madneſs, to
believe that Chrift died for fuch as repent, and believe the Gofpel, and yet to diſtruſt
he died for me, who am fo forry for my Sins, that I would give the World (if it
were mine) I never had committed them? and would not, for any earthly Thing,
commit the like again? And would purchaſe the Favour of God with my Blood,
and who am quite oppreffed with the Dread of his Diſpleaſure? If this be not re-
penting and believing, no one can fay what is; and yet this is the Cafe of many of
theſe unhappy People. Nothing therefore can be liker, or nearer to Diftraction,
than ſo to believe, and fo to repent, as both to forrow and amend, and yet conclude
themſelves Veſſels of Wrath, and under God's Diſpleaſure: For nothing is fo contrary.
to all Senfe and Reaſon, and the whole Tenor of the Goſpel, as to believe that God
is
Against Self-Murther.
30 €
is not reconciled to all penitent Believers in Jefus Chrift; and, without this, Chrif
tianity would fall to the Ground. Theſe People, therefore, fhut their Eyes to all
the Light that can be opened on them; and by making fuch Conclufions as muſt
be falſe, if Chriftianity be true, are not only Miferable, but give fuch Marks
of a wrong Turn in their Head, that to conclude they are near Diftraction, is
not only Charitable, but Reaſonable. Thefe Things I have been led to fay, in
confidering the Cafe of Self-Murther, which, from the Whole, will appear not only
a huge Misfortune; but alfo, where Men have their Senfe and Reaſon, a great and
crying Sin; and which, according to the Gofpel-Covenant, excludes our Hope, by
cutting off Repentance, upon which it is grounded. If there be any Room for Cha-
rity, it is, that though all we fee is wrong, yet we may not fee all that truly is in
the Condition of theſe poor People; but God does, and he is infinitely Merciful, and
doubtleſs will Confider, with his uſual Goodneſs, all that can poffibly deſerve his Pity
and Forgiveneſs. And tho' he is juft, yet is his Juſtice tempered with fuch Mercy,
that even the moſt provoking Sinner may defire, with David, rather to fall into the
Hands of God than Man.
2 B b b
}
A
}
A Sermon Preached before
362
A
SERMON
Preached before Her Majefty at St. James's, on Wednef
day, April 4. 1705.
DEUTERONOMY XX. VERSE 1.
When thou goeft out to Battle against thine Enemies, and feeft
Horfes and Chariots, and a People more than thou, be not
afraid of them; for the Lord thy God is with thee, which
brought thee out of the Land of Egypt.
N fpeaking to thefe Words, we have to confider, First, The Command or
Counſel here given to the Jews, Not to be afraid of the Horſes, Chariots, and
fuperiour Number of their Enemies, when they went out to fight. Secondly,
The Reaſon here affigned, For the Lord thy God is with thee, which brought thee
up out of the Land of Egypt. And Thirdly, To fee how this Advice is applicable to
us, as Chriftians.
First, Of the Command or Counſel here given; When thou goeft out to Battle
against thine Enemies, and feeft Horfes and Chariots, and a People more than thou, be
not afraid of them. If there were any Difpute of the Lawfulneſs of Wars invaſive
and offenfive, where there is equal Reaſon and Neceffity, as of defenfive ones, theſe
Words would conclude much in their Favour; for, going out to Battle against their
Enemies, looks as if they rather went to prevent Invafion, than to repell it: But fince
no Body doubts the Juftifiableness of the Jewish Wars, we have only to fee to the
Counſel here given, not to fear Horfes, Chariots, or fuperiour Numbers; for all theſe
Things are naturally dreadful.
The Jewish Army confifted wholly of Infantry or Foot, and for a great while
they had no Horfe at all; the Country it ſeems bred none, and they were forbid
to go down to Egypt to provide themſelves of any. Egypt was famous for furniſhing
Horſes; and whether it were, that the Jews were forbid to go to Egypt, for fear
their Commerce with that idolatrous Country ſhould endanger their Manners, and
cauſe them to incline to the Worſhip of many Gods, as the reft of the Nations did,
and to which they were ſtrangely prone on all Occaſions; or whether it were, that
the Jews ſhould always remember the Deliverance God had wrought for them, in
bringing them out of Egypt, with a high Hand, and ſtretched out Arm, notwith-
ſtanding the infinite Multitude of Horſemen and Chariots with which their Ene-
mies purſued them to the Red Sea; whether this, or any undiſcovered Reaſon ſtood
in the Way, it is manifeft the Jewish Army had no Horſe, and conſequently no
Chariots of War, as other People had, at leaſt for a great while, even to the
Days
Her Majefty, April 4, 1705.
363
Days of King Dad. It ſeems indeed, as if God intended to diftinguish the
Jewish Armies from all other Armies, as well as the People from other People, in
moſt Particulars; and would let both them, and all the World perceive, that they
were not to be defended by the ufual Means, but by his Power alone, who had
brought them out of Egypt in ſo ſtrange a manner. And therefore, when that per-
verſe People grew weary of God's Government, and defired a King, and to be go-
verned like the Heathen round them, God ordered Samuel to tell them, that among
other Inſtances of the hard Government their Prince would fet up, He would take
their Sons, and appoint them for himfelf, for his Chariots, and to be his Horfemen, 1 Sam.
viii. 11. which Thing they alfo did; fo that in Time, Chariots and Horfemen came
in uſe among them, and fignified the Strength and Defence of a Kingdom among
the Jews, as well as other People: And therefore the King calls the dying Prophet,
My Father, my Father, the Chariots of Ifrael, and the Horsemen thereof, 2 Kings ii.
12. i. e. their Strength and their Security. But it was not thus from the beginning;
they had neither Horfe, nor Chariot; which being judged fo ferviceable in War,
as appeared by their general Ufe, no wonder if they ftruck Terror into the Minds of
thoſe who either wanted them, or were forbidden to uſe them. This
This may be an
Account why the Jews are bid in particular not to be afraid of their Enemies
Horfe and Chariots; but in the general, thofe Words do only fignify the Warlike
Provifions of any kind, made uſe of by their Enemies against them. And fo we
are to underſtand Pfal. xx. 7. Some put their Truft in Chariots, and fome in Horfes, but
we will remember the Name of the Lord our God. This appears alfo, from their being
commanded not to be afraid of a fuperior Number: When thou feeft a People more
than thou, be not afraid of them. So that the Jews are counfelled here, that when
they went out to fight, and faw their Enemies fuperior in Provifion, Strength, and
Number, they ſhould not be afraid of them.
But how is this to be avoided, fince thefe Advantages will naturally, and very rea
fonably cauſe Fear, even in the wifeft and the ſtrongeſt Hearts? The Chances (as they
call them) of War are ſo many, and the Turns fo ſtrange and fudden, that even
when all Things are more than equal on their Side; yet can neither the oldeft, the
braveft, nor the moſt experienced Warriours, forbear fearing for the Event. There
muſt therefore be ſomething particular in the Reafon affigned, to make it poffible
for the Jews to comply with fuch a Command, as not to fear their Enemies, with
fuch Advantages upon their Side.
And fo, in the fecond Place, there was; the Reafon carries great Force with it,
and ſeems to be able to bear down all before it,--- For the Lord thy God is with
thee, which brought thee up out of the Land of Egypt. The Lord God, in Oppofition
to the Gods of the Nations round, which were but Idols, and could neither help
themſelves, nor others; and the Lord thy God, as in Covenant with them, and diftin-
guiſhing them from the rest of the World, by moft peculiar Favours and Bleffings
beſtowed upon them, and known eſpecially to them, and all the Nations round, by
having brought them up, out of the Land of Egypt, in a Manner the moſt glorious
and aftoniſhing, and in all its Circumſtances remarkably memorable to all Pofterity.
They had therefore on their Side One to depend upon, who not only could, but who
had already done the greateſt Things for them; they did not only know He was
All-powerful, but had lately feen Him exerciſe that Heavenly Power on their Behalf
on all Occafions: They had feen that both the Chariot and Horfe were fallen; and
that nothing could prevail againſt thoſe whom God would help, but that whom he
bleffed, were and must be bleffed. This therefore was the Reafon why they were
not to be afraid of their Enemies, although fo ftrong and well provided; they had
the Lord for their God, one who was Almighty in Power, and whofe Goodneſs they
•
had
!
!
364
A Sermon Preached before
had long experienced, both they and their Fathers; who had pught them up out
of Egypt, and who had covenanted to bleſs them in all their righteous Undertakings,
and profper all their righteous Wars againſt their Enemies, provided they kept the
Law that he gave them, and ferved no other Gods but him. Upon theſe Condi-
tions, God would be their God, and they ſhould be his People; and whilft they
obſerved theſe, they were fure of Succefs; no Sword, no Weapon, that was formed
againſt them, could prevail; they needed not to be afraid of either Horſes, Cha-
riots, or a People more than they. This was God's Conduct with refpect to his Peo-
ple Ifrael; and therefore it required but an Act of the eaſieſt Faith imaginable, to
go out againſt their Enemies in righteous Wars, undertaken by his Command or
Approbation, with all the Confidence poffible, and full Affurance of Succefs; they
knew their Captain was Almighty, the Lord of Hofts; they knew it was as eafy for
him to fave by few, as by many; they had experienced this, in his delivering them
from a People infinitely more than they, and well provided with Horſes and Chari-
ots, whom they had ſeen troubled from Heaven, and overthrown in the Red Sea :
And they had the fame Promiſe of Succeſs, by the fame Affiftance, in all their
righteous Undertakings. Such Counſel therefore, or Command, as this in the Text,
Not to fear Horfes and Chariots, or a People more than they, might very well be com-
plied with, by confidering, faithful People, when the Lord their God was with them,
who had brought them up out of the Land of Egypt, out of the House of Bondage.
But what is this to thoſe who have not theſe Encouragements, nor any fuch fure
Promiſes? How far can We, or other Chriftians, make Application of fuch Paffages
to our ſelves, or in what fort depend upon them? This is the Third and Laft Thing
to be confidered. And,
First, It muſt be confeffed, that we are not under the fame Diſpenſation with
the Jews at this Time, and for fome Hundreds of Years after thefe Words were
delivered by Mofes from God. He was pleafed to train up the Jews in Obedience,
by Promiſes of temporal Bleffings of all forts, as well in War as Peace; this is not
ftipulated for in the Chriftian Covenant, and therefore not to be depended on, as
promiſed. It ſeems indeed to have been but temporary with the Jews themſelves;
after they had made a general Forfeiture (as it were) of God's Favour, by their
Apoftafies, and foul Idolatries, the Promiſes of Succefs in Wars feem to have ended
on God's Part, and they were brought under the common Providence; for though
they were far from Idolatry, and worshipped God alone with all Simplicity, and were
(for ought that appears) as virtuous in their Manners as ever; yet before our Savi-
our's Time, they were conquered by the Romans, and reduced into a Province,
and fo continued till their final Overthrow by Vefpafian, and his brave Son: They
could not therefore certainly depend on Victory for many hundred Years, by virtue
of God's Promiſe made to them at firft, although they continued to worſhip the
Lord their God, and him only, and were obfervant of the Law of Mofes. There
is therefore the lefs Reafon for Chriftians to expect the fulfilling of fuch Promiſes
to them, which though made to the Jews at firft, and forfeited by them, were
not afterwards conſtantly and certainly either expected, or fulfilled to them. But,
Secondly, Although we are not under the fame Difpenfation with the firſt Jews; yet
we are under the Providence and Government of the fame wife, and good, and
powerful Being; we have the fame Lord for our God that they had; we are equally
in Covenant with him in our Saviour Chrift, and for his Sake, much more beloved
by him; and have the Hopes and Promiſes of Bleffings infinitely greater in another
World; and therefore have no Reafon to complain, if God would only blefs us with
eternal Life and Happineſs in Heaven, and leave us to make our Paffage to it our
felves as eafy and commodious as we could, with Innocence and Virtue, without
engaging
>
Her Majefty, April 4. 1705.
365
engaging to bless us in particular upon any Terms and Conditions. But this he has
not done; for Godliness, under Chriſtianity alſo, hath the Promiſes both of this Life,
and that to come; but then they are general, and fulfilled in what Kind, and what
Manner, and at what Time it pleaſes God; which Determinations, though they
make the Bleffings look lefs certain, and more accidental, and lefs needful, than if
we ſhould obtain what we defired and wanted, when we thought fit; yet when we
confider how wife and good He is, who is to give, we ſhall ſee it much better to
leave it to God, than to chufe for our felves. We have therefore Leave, as Ch
ftians, by virtue of God's Promiſes in general, and of his Love to Man in Chrift
Jefus, to wish for, feek for, hope for, and expect, whatever temporal Bleſſings we
truly ſtand in need of, that are proper for us in our Cafe, and fitting for God to
give, as he is the wife and good Governor of all the World, and confidered in the
fame Relation to other People, as to us; for even in favour of the Jews themſelves,
he could not do any thing unjuſt or unbecoming himſelf. To qualify us there-
fore for God's Favours and temporal Bleffings, we muft, in the first Place, ſtand in
need of them; they must be truly neceffary to us, according to our Apprehenfion;
God does indeed oft-times beftow (fuch is his Goodneſs) more than we aſk or
think of; but we have neither Reaſon to aſk nor to expect of God what is not
truly needful for us, every Thing confidered. Secondly, We muſt afk them of God;
we muſt not afk for what we think not needful, but we muft afk of God, al-
though he knows it needful before; as well to acknowledge him the Lord and Giver
of all Things, and our Dependance on him, as alſo becauſe he requires this Service
at our Hands. Not but that God does oft-times give us what we pray not for, be-
cauſe He fees it needful or convenient for us, though we do not; but that we have
no Right or Reaſon to expect what we do not ſeek for at God's Hands, by humble
Prayer and Petition. Thirdly, We must endeavour to deſerve theſe Bleffings a
God's Hands; not ſtrictly ſpeaking, for that is never to be done; but ſo to qualify
and fit our ſelves for the Bleffings we ftand in need of, as we are able by the Grace
of God to do, i. e. by feriously repenting and amending of our paſt Sins; which,
as they are the only Things that diſpleaſe God, and provoke his Judgments, fo is
there no other Way to pacify his Wrath, and to prevent or put an End to them,
but by Repentance and Amendment: And this feems very reaſonable, that when
we are aſking Favours of God, we ſhould be trying not to undeſerve them at the
leaſt. And of this we are ſo fenfible, that we know not how ſo much as to pray
for
any temporal Bleffings, with any Hopes or tolerable Affurance of receiving them,
till we have firſt reſolved in our Hearts to reconcile our felves to Him, by promifing
Repentance, and becoming a new Creature. Some preſent Neceffities are generally
the Parents of theſe ſhort-liv'd Refolutions; which, fhort-liv'd as they are, yet ſhew,
that we know of no better Way to qualify us for God's Bleffing, temporal as well
as fpiritual, than by repenting of our Sins paſt, engaging in Holy Purpoſes, and
promiffing Amendment. Fourthly, When we have afked of God, what we ap-
prehend truly needful, and have endeavoured to remove the only Impediments that
ſtand in the Way of his Mercy, we muſt employ our whole Abilities, do all we can
our felves to compaſs what we aſk and want of God. We muſt be watchful, diligent,
moſt careful and laborious, and uſe our Reaſon, and exerciſe all our Faculties in the
beft Manner that we can. We must act as if all depended on our felves, even
when we know we can do nothing but with God's Affiftance; for fo it is, that the
giving us Abilities, and bleffing us in ufing them aright, is generally the Means
by which he beſtows his greateſt Bleffings on us; as he preferves us from falling
into Pits and Snares, by giving us Eyes and Underſtanding to direct our Steps, as
well as by a general Providence. Thus qualified, we have a Right, as Chriftians
2 Cc c
and
366
A Sermon Preached before
and his Creatures, to afk of God whatever temporal Bleffings we truly ftand in need
of, and to expect them from his Bounty and Goodneſs, and from his boundlefs
Love to us in Chriſt Jeſus.
Let us therefore fee to the Application of theſe Rules, to our preſent Cafe.
1
We are called upon by publick Order to affemble in thefe Places, to aík of God
Succeſs in our Undertakings, and Profperity to our Arms by Sea and Land, both
for our felves, and thoſe that join with us; and this we apprehend (in the Firſt
Place) to be both just and neceſſary, or otherwiſe we could not afk it of God. We
may not aſk him to fucceed in any cruel or vain-glorious Enterprize. Ambition,
Avarice and Injuftice, are Things he hates, and therefore nothing of them muſt
be in the Deſigns which we would have him bleſs. Our Armies are not gathered
to invade an innocent and quiet Prince, nor to extend our Empire and Dominion;
but to fecure the Rights of injured People, and to prevent the Defigns of an Am-
bition that hath for many Years troubled the whole World, and hath been ham-
mering out the Chains that were to bind us in perpetual Servitude. It hath ſo pleaſed
God, that thoſe Deſigns ſhould take Effect by Artifice, which open Force had not
been able in Forty Years to bring about; and that he who hath hitherto always
been the Aggreffor, fhould now be the Defender of his ill acquired Poffeffions.
The haughtieſt People in the World have apparently fold themſelves into the Hands
of their greateſt Enemies; and the Nations who have all this Time preſerved them
from this Miſchief, with their Good-liking, are now endeavouring to redeem them,
too much againſt their Will. Not, that if they could wear their Chains alone,
they would not both deferve them, and become them well; but that the Mif-
chief is, they cannot eafily be miſerable alone: The enflaving a Country is like the
firing a Houſe, the next to it always fuffers much, if it be not equally deſtroyed;
and if every Neighbour be not equally careful, it is not to much Purpoſe for one
or two to be fo. This indeed is the true and proper Juftification of theſe ſort of
Wars, and of one Nation's intermeddling with the Affairs of another. Their In-
tereſts do ſo hang upon one another, and are ſo linked together, that it is oft-times
impoffible for one of them to be undone, or greatly miſchieved by itſelf, without
involving its Neighbour in great Misfortunes: Its Neighbour therefore has a Right
(even that of Self-prefervation) to take what Care it can to fecure that one from
Dangers, that in Time will reach itſelf; and if neither Warning nor Advice will
prevent its deftructive Courfes, it may juftly prevent them, if it can, by Force. So
that Nations, how independent foever they are on one another, yet are not ſo with
refpect to the Whole, whofe Interefts are to be confidered. If a Man, becauſe he has
purchaſed a Piece of Ground, and is the independent Owner of it, fhould therefore
think himſelf at Liberty to let it run to naught, no Body would diſpute his Power
of doing himſelf that Miſchief: But if he ſhould pretend a Right to cut its Banks,
and let in the Sea upon it, every one would perceive he was not fo Maſter of his
own, as by deſtroying it, to endanger another Man's; and they would ſee the Rea-
ſonableneſs of hindring that Man, by downright Force, from doing what was ſo
like to be a general Miſchief to the Neighbourhood, without denying him to be
the Owner and true Proprietor of his Ground, if he were indeed fo. Let a Man
pretend to let the Wolf into his Flocks, becauſe they are his own, and the Field his
own, and fee if the neighbouring Shepherds will not hinder him, if they can, from
doing fo mad and miſchievous a Thing at firft; or, if it be too late, will not com-
bine againſt that Enemy and Deſtroyer, that is like to prove fo bad a Neighbour. In
thefe Cafes, it is plain, that no Propriety or Dominion over our own, can justify
our difpofing of it to general Miſchief, or to general Hazard. No Man is fo Ma-
fter of any Thing, as to hurt another by it, whom he ſhould not hurt; the Bottom
of
Her Majeſty, April 4, 1705.
357
of which is this, That no Man has a Right to do Evil, and if he will affume
fuch Power, others have Right to hinder the Exerciſe of it, becauſe every Man has
a Right to Self-defence, if he has not departed from it by Agreement. And the Rea-
fon of Things being the fame in great Matters as in ſmall, it is evident that Nations
may prevent Dangers that are great and fure, though not immediately imminent,
but at fome Diſtance; becauſe it may be all too late, when the Evil is at the Door.
And though the Occafions of War ſhould certainly be as few and clear as poffible,
yet without theſe Allowances, there could be no fuch Thing as Peace, and Liberty,
and Freedom of Commerce maintained in the World.
The Power of determining War, is not in the Subjects, but for good Reaſons,
placed in better Hands; but nothing can hinder them from judging of its Reaſon-
ableneſs and Neceffity; nor is any Thing of better Ufe, than that they who fight
Abroad, and they who pray at Home, and they who contribute to it, ſhould all
of them judge it reaſonable and neceffary; and that is certainly the Cafe in Hand.
We ftay not to be fwallowed up the laft, for that our Situation would, it
may be,
give us ; but we affift our Neighbours, that neither they nor we may be fwallowed
up at all. We would not become a pillaged Province under an Univerſal Monarchy ;
but the Platform of that Edifice is already drawn out, and its Foundations deeply
laid by the deftructive Falfhood, or the weak Submiffions of a great People, and
thereby our Neighbours are every way endangered; and when they loſe their Liber-
ties, ours are in Jeopardy, and therefore we engage in their Affiftance, as being next
to them in Danger. In our laſt Wars, we fought for that which has been loft in
Peace; and we now fight for that which we believed depended on the Lofs or Safety
of that Country, and that is, the Liberty of theſe Parts of the World. What we
have loft, may therefore teach us how to value what we have to lofe. We therefore
fight to fave our felves from all that is evil and miſchievous, and for all that is de-
firable in Human Life, the Prefervation of our Country's Liberties, our Lives and
our Religion; Success in fuch a Caufe, is what we apprehend moſt needful.
Secondly, We muft ask it of God. It is he that giveth Victory to Kings, and deli-
vereth his Anointed from the Peril of the Sword. This is to fignify, that we acknow-
ledge our Dependance on him, attribute all Power to him, and adore him in his
Providence and Government of the World, in Oppofition to thoſe prophane Spirits
who know no God, and think that all Things come by Chance, and are under the
Direction of no intelligent Power; but that Victory evermore inclines to the fupe-
rior Strength, the better Diſcipline, and the moſt numerous Hoft: All which Par-
ticulars are overthrown by Obfervation of the contrary in Inftances innumerable,
and fo unaccountably ftrange, that they demonftrate plainly an over-ruling Power,
with a moft wife Government. We must therefore ask Succefs of God, and it is
for that purpoſe, that we are here this Day affembled together in this Place before
him.
Thirdly, We must not only ask of God, but we muſt alſo qualify our felves to re-
ceive this much defired and wanted Bleffing of Succeſs. Our Wants are indeed the
firſt Motives of our applying to God; but fince we may come to want thro' our
Faults, and for them may deſerve to continue in thoſe Wants, we muſt endeavour
to deſerve to have thoſe Wants fupplyed. The Cauſe of Liberty and Religion is
certainly the beſt that can be named; but even this may juſtly miſcarry in wicked
Hands, that deſerve not the one, and flight the other. Popery and Proteftantiſm are
now, in the Main, but different Names, to fignify different Parties, different In-
terefts, and different Opinions in Religion. One would think that different Opinions
ſhould produce different Practices, and that the Reformation of Manners ſhould fol-
low, upon Reftitution of the Goſpel to the Liberty of being known again, and
3
read,
368
A Sermon Preached before
९
read, and underſtood by the People: But every one, I believe, obferves, that good
Principles are never fo fure of their Confequences as bad ones. Popery is truly a
very great Corruption of Religion as ever any was; and corrupt Practices
Practices may and
do follow very plentifully from their corrupt Principles. The Reformation ſets us
right in our Notions, Principles, and Underſtanding of the Word of God, but ve-
ry little elſe follows that ſhould; our Practice is equally naught with theirs; ſo that
we only incur the greater Condemnation, and whilft we have the Light, will
walk inDarkneſs, and therefore ſtumble without Excuſe or Pity. In Truth, the ſeeing
how unedifying Lives the Reformed World live, and what ill uſe they make of
their ſpiritual Advantages, has fo cooled the Zeal of fome, and hardened others in
their old Errors, that there is now no Call after Reformation of Corruptions, no
demanding the Cup in the Lord's Supper, nor any farther Defire of having the Scrip-
tures in the vulgar Tongue, for the Uſe of the Common People; all which were
heretofore the Demands of good, fincere, and underſtanding People in Popiſh Coun-
tries, themſelves the while Papiſts: They think they fee no good Effects of our
Pretences to a purer Worſhip of God; we only change Sides, and live as we did
before; and therefore they purſue theſe Requeſts no farther. And indeed, there is
a ftrange Coldneſs and Indifference for Religion as Reformed, even in the Reformed
Countries; both High and Low feem to ſet but little by it, and concern themſelves
no farther for it, than it turns to their particular Account and Intereft. That
Chriſtian and becoming Zeal that heretofore flamed in the Hearts, and Tongues,
and Lives of its Profeffors, ſeems to be quite extinguiſhed; and all the Cries againſt
the Popish Church, proceed rather from Cuſtom and habitual Averfion, than from
a true Senſe of her Abominations, and a Zeal that is judicious, and founded on a
right Underſtanding of thoſe mighty Corruptions that overfpread her Face: So that
we ſeem not only to have denied the Confequences of our good Principles, but even
to flight thoſe very Principles, as they diſtinguiſh and denominate us Proteftants.
Theſe are but ill Preparatives for the Expectations of Bleffing and Succeſs, againſt
a People who can hardly be more immoral than our felves, and who have indeed
a worſe Religion, but a truer Zeal for it. That we may therefore ask of God
with any fort of Confidence, we muſt amend thoſe evil Practices that are the Scan-
dals of Religion, and the Impediments to God's Favour, and live as becomes the
Profeffors of the Reformed Religion, in all Godliness and Honeſty; adorning a
good Profeffion with good Manners, and trying to ſpeed a good Cauſe, with the
Prayers of a good People; and that is alſo the purpoſe of our meeting here at this
Time to humble our ſelves before God, to repent fincerely of our paſt Offences, to
intreat for the Forgiveneſs of them, to promiſe all Amendment and Obedience for
the Future, and to ask the Affiftance of his Grace to put theſe good Reſolves in Exe-
cution. God often does give good Succefs to the Defigns of unreformed and unrepen-
ting People; but that is what they can neither ask nor expect from Him: He has
wife Purpoſes of his own to ſerve, that we know nothing of, and always acts with
the greateſt Reaſon; but that this ſhould turn to our Advantage, we can never hope
with Reaſon. When we intreat for Bleffings out of Courſe, we ought either to
ground our Prayers on general Promifes, or to prefent our felves in fuch a State of
Innocence, or true Repentance, as that there may be no Obſtructions in the Way
of God's Mercies. There is no coming to him with Hope of Favour and Accep-
tance, but coming qualified as he requires, and that is, coming truly humbled,
and fincerely penitent.
When thus prepared and qualified to ſeek for Bleffings at God's Hands, we muſt
in the Laft Place, take all the Care, ufe all the Diligence, and follow the Courſes
that Reaſon, Prudence, Obfervation, and Experience fhall fuggeft, as fitteft to attain
3
the
Her Majesty, April 4. 1705.
369.
the End we aim at. We ask of God the Preſervation of our Life and Health; but
we our felves muſt take all Care about our Meat and Drink, our Cloathing and our
Exercife, which are the Means of its Prefervation. We ask of God our daily Bread,
but we our felves muft plough, and fow, and cultivate the Ground, and take all
other neceffary Pains to reap the Fruits of it. We do not fo much as mean, when
we ask the Bleffings we want, that God ſhould give them us immediately from
Heaven, without the Employment of thoſe Faculties and Powers, both of Body
and Mind, that he hath given us. We must therefore mean, that he would give them
to our Induſtry and Care, our Diligence and Labour to attain them, and bleſs the
righteous Means we uſe to fucceed in righteous Undertakings. And thus in the Cafe
before us, Horfes and Chariots were found to be of great Ufe in War; and there-
fore the Jews would naturally and reafonably be afraid of wanting them themſelves,
and of ſeeing their Enemies abound with them; this was no Fault, nor was fuch
Fear to be removed, but by particular Charge of God Not to fear them, which in-
cluded a Promife of Affiftance and Defence againſt them: Where therefore there
is no fuch Promiſe or Engagement, that Fear is reaſonable, and therefore Men are
left to make fuch Provifion as they find neceffary. And fo the Superiority of Num-
ber is truly an Advantage in War, and hardly to be furmounted; and a lefs Army
will naturally be afraid of a greater, and Men do naturally, as our Saviour adviſes,
confider whether they with Ten Thoufand, can meet an Enemy with Twenty
Thouſand; and find it is impracticable. They must therefore, if they be wife, and
act reaſonably, increaſe their Numbers, or fall from their Pretenfions, i. e. without
a particular Promiſe of God, (which is not now his Method) they muſt make ſuch
Proviſions of Things neceffary, as Reaſon and Prudence fhall fuggeft fufficient for
their Purpoſe. We come to ask of God Succeſs againſt our Enemies, and preſent
him, we believe, a juſt and righteous Undertaking; but we ask him to bleſs our
Fleets and Armics, the Inftruments that are made Uſe of to obtain the Satisfaction
and Security that is wanted. We ask him, that the Conduct of our Leaders, and
the Courage of our Soldiers may anfwer the Juſtice of the Cauſe they take in Hand;
and that our National Offences, and all our fecret Sins, may be fo overlooked, as
not to provoke him to blaſt our righteous Enterprizes, and cauſe us to fall from the
Hopes he has himſelf been pleaſed, by his former Bleffings, to raiſe in us.
We ask him, moreover, (Laftly) to give us Peace and Unity at Home; and that
the Hearts of all our People may amicably confpire in promoting the publick Wel-
fare; that the Zeal of all Parties may ſpend itſelf in Reality, as it always does in
Pretence, in doing the Nation Service; for all that does not tend to that, will quick-
-ly be found to-be-but-Faction, Craft, and taking Vengeance; either the Infult and
Retaliation of a domineering Party on the one Hand, or the Attempt of a diſoblig-
ed or diſappointed one on the other. This we ask, becauſe we apprehend it to be
abfolutely neceffary; but this we muſt not only ask of God, but endeavour to effect
our felves.
For though it is God that maketh Men to be of one Mind in an Houſe;
yet it is by means that he hath put within their Power, namely, by Confideration
of the Uſefulneſs, Convenience, and Neceffity of fuch good Union and Agreement.
We ſhall by our Divifions weaken our felves, and hurt each other; but we make
both thereby an eaſier Prey to the Common Enemy: It is better for Him, we fhould
deſtroy our ſelves by the Hands of one another, than by his Means and at his Coſts.
One Party (which you will) fhall, with his good-liking, obtain the Pleaſure of Re-
venge, fuch as it is, but he alone fhall reap the Advantage of fuch Victories. It
Awere better far, that he ſhould do his Work himſelf by fair and open War, and if
it muſt be ſo, by Wounds that we ſhall never be aſhamed of. Concord at Home,
and good Agreement, are always neceffary to all Nations, and they cannot long ſub-
2 Ddd
fift
379
A Sermon Preached, &c.
fift without it. Our Saviour fays it, and our Réafon and our Experience fay italfo,
and we believe them all; but fomething is too much for all; Men's privatel Paffions :
carry it against their private and their publick' Judgment; and 'their angry Réfent-
ments are (it ſeems) too much for all Authority, and all Arguments. In vain hath.
it pleaſed God to blefstus with fucha Centre of Union and Agreement, as through;
Misfortune. or Miftake, the Nation feems not to have had for many, many Years;.
and fuch as all Parties (if I muſt not everinore except the Popish one)., not only
may, but ſeriouſly profefs they do:unanimously meet.in, to love and Honour as they
ought to love and honour; in vain, if for Her fake, they will come no nearer to
each other.
?
If the Place be proper, the Timès do not look as if they would make it unfea-.
ſonable for me to conclude with praying again for Unity among our ſelves; and the
laying afide all Fears and unreaſonable Sufpicions of each other, that Men would,
each in his Sphere, attend alone to the Common Good, to ftrengthen their Friends
Abroad, and to ſecure Tranquillity and Peace at Home. Without theſe Studies and
Endeavours, all our Prayers to God will be but as fo many idle Wiſhes ; but when
we do our Part, he never fails of doing his. Let us therefore, all of us (for no body
is too grea no body is too little for their Duty) do what will become good Protef-
tants, go. Engliſhmen, and good Subjects; and leave the Iffue, as we must, to
God; befeeching him, of his Goodneſs, to hear what we have asked, and to grant
us what he, in his Wiſdom and Mercy, fhall find is beft, and moſt expedient
for us.
-
A
37 i
·
•
•
03
A
10
SERMON
Preached before the Queen, at Windsor, June 17. 1705
{
$
2.SAMUEL XII. Part of the 5th and 7th VERSES.
And be faid to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the Man that hath
>
•
done this Thing ſhall furely die: And Nathan ſaid to David,
Thou art the Man.
T
2
1
>
}
HESE Words are the Reprefentation that Nathan made to David, by
way of Parable, to convince him of his great Wickedness, in the Matter
of Uriah the Hittite; and contain in them, Firft, The Judgment Da-
vid paffed againſt the rich Oppreffor, As the Lord liveth, the Man that
bath done this Thing, fhall furely die. And, Secondly, The Application Nathan here
made, Thou art the Man. But fince the Hiftory and the Parable are fo well known,
and the Righteoufnefs of the Judgment here paffed, and the Fitnefs of the Appli-
cation, fo allowed of, and affented to by all; it will be, I believe, of lefs Benefit
to ſpeak to them, than it will be to fee what Ufes we may make. of fuch a
Judgment, and fuch an Application, in the Manner they were here paffed. And,
First, We may obferve, that the readieft Way to pass a true Judgment upon
any Occafion, is, to be one's felf difintereſted and unconcerned, and to remove the
Cauſe to a Third Perfon. David here confidered the Cafe of a rich Man taking
by Violence from his poor Neighbour a Lamb, that was his fingle Treafure and
Delight, to fpare his own innumerable Flocks; and could not once imagine it was
poffible for him himſelf to have, at any Time of his whole Life, done the like:
His generous Temper freed him from all Sufpicion of fuch Avarice; nor had he
ever entertained a Traveller at any poor Man's Coft, or grieved him in fuch man-
ner; the Circumftances of his Life were never fuch, nor fuch at any Time his
Difpofition. And therefore he is very, free to confider narrowly, how much In-
juſtice, and how much Cruelty, were feen in this one fingle Act of Oppreffion;
and viewing it in all its most unfightly Colours, as freely could condemn it. Keep
but your Conſcience clear, and your Underſtanding will generally be fo too; our
Paffions´ and our Guilt corrupt our Judgment ftrangely, our Wiſhes and Defires
caufe us to argue ftrongly in their Favour; and our Averfion fhews us every Thing
amifs in fuch as are the Objects of it. The Reaſon why we refer our Caufes to
the Arbitrement of a Third Perfon, is not becauſe he underſtands them better than
our félves, (for that is not always fo) nor that he loves Juftice better,, but becauſe
he is an unconcerned, indifferent Man, and has no Intereft or Inclination to corrupt
and biafs him one way or other, but will judge according to Reaſon, and what
appears.
372
A Sermon Preached before
appears. It is the fame Cafe with our felves, when either Love or Hate, Hope
or Fear, or any other Paffion poffeffes us; we are too much prejudiced to judge
exactly righteous Judgment; every Inclination or Averfion drives us from that
Firmneſs and Steddinefs of Mind which is requifite to the being impartial; every
little flight Appearance is an Argument, when our Good-will is on its Side; and
the moſt folid, weighty Reaſons, are light as the Duft of the Balance, when urged
againſt our Intereft & ou Humour: So that to be a fair and equal Arbiter, we
muſt diveſt our felves of all Concern and Intereſt. This was the Blindneſs of
the Antients Justice; fhe was to fee no Party, know no Perfon, but to hear Rea-
fon and Proof of Allegation, and to feel which Scale weighed heavieſt, and de-
termine for it.
It is certainly one of the hardeſt Things in the World to be indifferent, and
to ftand exactly poiſed; but yet to form a right Judgment, it is abſolutely ne-
ceffary; for juſt as much as the Mind inclines one without Reaſon and Proof, juſt
fo much Wrong we are inclined to do, and to determine without Truth.
Every Man and Woman looks well enough in their own Glafs, but that is
not the Way to judge of Beauty; we ftand too near our felves, to ſee our felves
exactly. In à Word, we love our felves too well, to cenfure hardly; and the Voice
of Stander is the other Extream; fo that the common Judgment ofteneſt hits the
Truth, i. e. in judging of our publick Actions. This Unconcernedness it is, that
occafions us to judge more hardly of the Sins of other Men, to which we are
not liable by Difpofition or Temptation, than of our own; not that we judge
more hardly of other Peoples Sins than they deferve, but that we find our felves
'at Liberty, by our Innocence, to view them in their proper Colours, and to judge
impartially of them, and condemn them as they ought to be condemned; whereas
our own Guilt and Fear, or our Self-love, will not let us see our own Offences
in fo good a Light, nor fuffer us to condemn them with fuch Rigour.
That we may therefore know our felves the better, and judge impartially of
Offences, we may obferve the prudent way of Parables, which the Spirit of God
ufes throughout the Scriptures, to bring Men to a Senfe of their Condition, and
an Acknowledgement of their Offence, by transferring the Cauſe to another Per-
Yon, and fhewing Men themſelves in another's Image; which is a Second Ufe we
may make of Nathan's treating David in this Manner.
21.
Our Saviour, who was exceeding tender, where he could find the deaft Degree
of Modefty, uſes this Way of Parables moft frequently, inftructing and reproving
the Jews in the Perfon of a Stranger, (no Body could tell who, or where, or when)
without any Mortification or Reproach; fo that hearing, they might not hear,
and feeing, they might not perceive; and yet be converted and healed, i.e. they
´might hear what he faid in Parables, as faid of other People, to whom the Hifto-
ry related, and not as ſpoken to themſelves; and yet might both confider what
was faid, and apply it to themſelves, and reap the Benefit of it. The End our
Saviour drove at, was not their Shame, but their Amendment; and therefore if
they would but apprehend his Meaning, he would prefs no farther. Not but
that he alſo made the other Ufes of Parables to which they are fitted; as fome-
times to convey his Senfe in a Figure, which he could not think fit to do in plain
Words, for many good Reafons; and at other Times, to do as Nathan here does,
drive them to accuſe and condemn themſelves, in a Third Perfon, which they
would not have done in their own. When the Lord of the Vineyard cometh (faith
Chriſt, Matth. xxi. 40.) what will be do to thofe Husbandmen, who had beaten
and ftoned his Servants, and killed at laſt his Son? They fay unto him, He will
miferably destroy thofe wicked Men, &c. Thus, by this Parable, he brought them
to
the Queen, June 17, 1705.
373
to acknowledge the Juftice of God in deftroying the Jewish People, for their
great Infidelity and Cruelty fhewn to himſelf, the true Meffiah, and the Son of
God; a Thing they had hardly ever done, had he faid the Thing in ſo many
plain Words; becauſe we can difcern the Faults, and affign the Puniſhment of
all the World, fooner than our own. Had Nathan come to David, and told him
of a certain Prince in the World, who having Abundance of Wives and Concu-
bines of his own, would not yet, in a Fit of Diffolution, fatisfy thoſe Inclina-
tions where he might without Offence or Injury; but would needs fend to one,
who was his Neighbour and a Nobleman, to have his Wife, who had but one,
and whom he loved moft tenderly, and with whom he lived in the beſt Manner
that could be; and accordingly debauched her from her Nuptial Bed, bereaving
the Man of all the Joy and Satisfaction of his Life: Had Nathan addreſſed to
David with this Story, the King had found out his Drift immediately; but the
rude Application would have given him fuch Diftaſte, that though he might
have been convinced of his Guilt, yet probably he would not fo freely have con-
feffed himſelf guilty. The Bluntnefs of Reproof does not well fuit with the
Modefty of human Nature; and downright coming upon a Man, puts him up-
on his Guard, into whoſe good-liking you might have infinuated your felf, and
gained your Point by artificial foft Approaches. They who will hear your Wif-
dom, and attend to your Reproofs, whilft you are fpeaking of another Man, if
you affault themſelves with Accufation, will avoid you with Contempt, or hear
you with a fullen Silence; nay, when a Man is fure you come with purpoſe of
reproving him, he will endure better through another's Side, and by the Way of
Parable, than by immediate Application, though he himſelf will certainly apply
it as intended. And People who defign the Good and Benefit of thoſe they
would reprove, will be as careful as they can to do it in the moſt acceptable
Manner; their chiefeft Aim is to fecure their End, and their next Point of
Wiſdom is to uſe fuch Methods as are eaſieſt and moſt uſeful; and this eſpecially
ſhould be obſerved in dealing with perverfe Tempers, or with great Superiors.
And this is the more remarkable in the Inftance before us, becauſe the Mef
fage came immediately from God, and was to be delivered without Regard to
any Thing that might happen; he was to tell David how wicked a Man he
was, and had committed the worit Adultery, and the worst Murther that could
be, as they were circumftantiated and dreffed, and that God was exceedingly
diſpleaſed with him for it. This he muſt ſay, let David take it as he would
but yet he took the Liberty to prepare his way by Methods the moſt prudent,
by introducing his Meffage, with this Parable which fhewed the King the In-
juſtice and the Cruelty he had been guilty of, and cauſed him to condemn him-
felf, by condemning the like Offences in another Man, he knew not whom
and when he was, by this prejudging of himſelf, difpofed to bear it, the Pro-
phet then ſpeaks out, Thou art the Man. The Prophet muſt diſcharge his Duty,
and deliver his Meffage, if it come from God, let the Event be what it will;
that he agrees to, when devoted to his Service, and knows his Recompence: But
ftill it will be left to the Difcretion of the Prophet, to pitch upon the Manner
of doing it, and therein is his Wiſdom to be exerciſed, by ftudying well the
Men he has to deal withal. John Baptift openly rebukes the Prince, and tells
him that he muft not have his Brother Philip's Wife, and is a great Example of
the Freedom that a Meffenger of God may take, when gentler Courſes fail him.
St. Paul, the perfecteft Model of a wife Ecclefiaftick that is left us, will talk to
Felix in Generals, and preach of Temperance and Righteoufnefs, Virtues to which
that
2 Eee
;
374
A Sermon Preached before
}
that Governor was every way a Stranger, and leave him to make the Application
himſelf; which he did, it ſeems, with Trembling and Diſorder. Both of them
did, I doubt not, what they found moft proper, confidering Time, and Place, and
Perfon. And we want not other Inftances in both the Teftaments, of different
Ways of managing different Perfons, with more or lefs Refervednefs. And there-
fore, great Difcretion is to temper Zeal, to prevent its Exceffes; and Zeal is to
come in, and hinder our Difcretion from degenerating into Fear and Cowardice,
and being corrupted by our Intereft or Self-love; for no Example can be an ade-
quate fufficient Rule in all Cafes, to all People. Our Saviour's frequent uſe of
Parables, feems to beſtow the Preference on the foft and gentle Way of treating
with Mankind, and bringing them to Conviction by Reaſon; though he fome-
times ufes more Severity and Sharpnefs, according as the Cafe required. Nathan
here takes the fame Courfe, and with good Effect. David was again caught
into a Condemnation of himſelf, and a Revocation of Abfalom from Baniſhment,
by a like Parable, by a wife Woman, fuborned by Joab for that Purpoſe: She
told him a mournful Story of her being a Widow, and having two Sons, the one
of which was killed by the other, and the furviving one purfued to Death by
her Relations, and by theſe Means her Houſe and Name ſhould be extinguiſhed
quite. The King takes Pity on her fad Condition, and promifes no further Pro-
fecution ſhould be made for her Son's Blood; and then the fhews how much it
was his own Cafe, who had for ever baniſhed Abfalom for the Murther of his
Brother Amnon; a Thing that could not now be remedied, nor bettered by ano-
ther's fuffering; upon which he took the like Pity on himſelf, hearkned to the
Defires of all his People, and recalled his Baniſhed. We can ſee that in another's
Cafe, which our Concern will not let us fee in our own, even when it is fome-
times to our Advantage.
Thirdly, We may obferve from hence the great Partiality and Blindneſs of
Self-love, that will not let us fee how heinous our own Offences are, nor fuf-
fer us to condemn them with the Rigour they deſerve, when we do fee them.
If the cruel Oppreffion of this rich Man in the Parable deſerved Death, in the
Opinion of David, what would the Violation of the Marriage-bed deſerve? And
what the Murther of the Hufband? But David knew of no fuch Man as yet;
till Nathan took the Glaſs, and fhewed him the Man that had done that Wick-
edneſs, and that (according to his own Judgment) deſerved to die for it. When
one would do Justice, one ſhould remove the Cauſe to a Third Perſon, and be
wholly unconcerned; but when we would fhew Mercy, then let us bring it home,
and put our felves in the Condition. But let us take King David at his Word,
That the Man that hath done this Thing fhall furely die, or deferves to die; and
we may ſee how tranfcendently great the Mercies of God are to Men, above
what Men can afford with Reaſon to one another. Violent Theft is worthy of
Death, fo is Adultery, and fo is Murther; they are Offences that deſtroy the
Peace and Happineſs of Mankind, and overthrow Society and good Order; fo
that there is no living where they go unpuniſhed, and therefore every one con-
demns them with all the Reaſon he has. Now all theſe Sins are no leſs hei-
nous in the Sight of God, than they are miſchievous to Men; and yet God
pardons them upon Repentance. It is true, no Sin can give him any Diſturbance,
or do him any real Miſchief; as neither can any Virtue make Acceffion or In-
creaſe of Happineſs to him: But if Vice and Virtue are any Thing but Names,
if Good and Evil are not Things that belong to this Life only, then muſt Sin
diſpleaſe him and offend him greatly; if there be another Life, and any Truth
in
}
the Queen, June 17. 1705.
375
in the whole Body of Revelations, the Mercy of God is infinitely great in for-
giving Sins to Men upon Repentance; and fo great, that if Men fhould extend
the like to one another, the World could not long ſubſiſt.
The Prophet having brought the Prince to condemn an Act of cruel Violence,
in another Man, and thereby prepared him to do as much for himſelf, if it
were juft, pulls off his Difguife, and difcovers himſelf to him, tells him in
plain Words, Thou art the Man, and gives him the Hiſtory of his ill-contrived
Adultery and Murther at length. The Parable referred to his Adultery only,
becauſe That was the principal Fact in Purpoſe and Defign, and the Murther
only followed, as it were by Accident; but now he charges him with both,
the wicked Cauſe, and the more wicked Effect: Thou art the Man that didſt
debauch the Wife, and kill the Hufband.
There are ſome Things relating to this Murther of Uriah, too confiderable
to be overlooked; and therefore let us fee to them under this Head, Thou hast
killed Uriah the Hittite with the Sword, and haft taken his Wife to be thy
Wife, and haft flain him with the Sword of the Children of Ammon. Here he
is plainly charged with the Murther of Uriah, and faid to have killed him,
though he fell by the Sword of the Children of Ammon, at the Siege of Rabbah.
The Reaſon is, becauſe he fent to Joab to place Uriah in the Fore-front of
the Battle, and then to order his Companions to retire from him, that the
Enemy might the better fall upon him and kill him. Here is a plain Defign
of murthering him, and laid in the moſt likely manner to effect it. David had
had the Guilt of Murther, had Uriah eſcaped by Valour or by Accident, becauſe
he intended the Thing, and pitched upon the ſureſt Means of doing it. Joab
the General was involved in this Murther alſo, becauſe he was confcious of
the King's Deſign, and had not the Honefty to put it by, or refuſe to be the
Inftrument of fuch a Piece of Villany; and no Compliance with his Prince's
Orders can excuſe him: The moſt arbitrary Monarch on the Earth can have
no Power to do Injuftice; and he who has no Right to Command, can have
no Right to Obedience. Had Joab been as brave as he was valiant, and good
as he was cunning, he might have eaſily preferved Uriah's Life; for which
the King in fober Humour, would have thanked and bleſſed him: But the
leaft he ſhould have done, had been to have refufed the vile Employment;
but chufing rather to comply with ſuch unjuſt and murtherous Commands, (though
of his King) he was certainly involved in the Guilt of Uriah's Murther. As
for the Men who retired from him in Battle, it is not certain whether they
were let into the Knowledge of this Defign, but might retire according to
Orders, and that is moſt likely, confidering the Numbers that muſt otherwiſe
have been acquainted with this wicked Project: It is fure, that as many as
defignedly retired from him, when the Enemy preffed upon him, were de-
fignedly guilty of this Murther, and betrayed a brave Man to Death. It is a
true Plague, this Wickedneſs! A Man infects all he converſes with, and gives
them Death, but dies himſelf alſo. David makes Joab guilty of Uriah's Death,
and many other Officers and Soldiers; but is himſelf, after all that, the Man
that kills Uriah. The Children of Ammon killed him fairly, though David
killed him treacherouſly, by their Hand; the Scriptures fay, that David killed
him with the Sword of Ammon; but the Reproaches of the Prophet fignify,
that Ammon murthered him by David's wicked Order, by Joab's wicked Obe-
dience, and by the baſe Deſertion of his Fellow Soldiers. The Hand alone
that killed this worthy Soldier, was entirely innocent and free from the Guilt
of
376
A Sermon Preached before
pre-
of Blood, killing him only as an Enemy; and the Men that touched him
not, were guilty of his Death; that is the Force of wicked Purpoſes, pur-
fued with wicked correfpondent Orders.. Men muft not therefore think they
avoid the Guilt of many Crimes, by avoiding the being concerned immedi-
ately in Perſon in committing them; there is a murthering Men by other
Peoples Swords than our own
own; and a ſwearing People out of their Eftates,
by other Men's Perjuries; and a doing Violence by other Peoples Hands, of
which we may our felves be guilty, and for which we fhall one Day anfwer,
as well as our Inftruments. A Man may contract Guilt, even by Intentions,
Wiſhes, and Defires, although they never take Effect; they are Matter of
Command on God's Part, and of Obedience on ours, as far as it is in our
Power to order or reftrain them, and no farther; but when we have expreffed
thoſe Thoughts and Defires to other People, they are no longer ours alone,
but will take Effect according to the Influence or Command we have over
thoſe to whom they are communicated; and according to the Meaſure of `
that Power, fhall we be guilty of the Miſchiefs that follow. If one Man
per-
fwade another, his Equal, to a Piece of Wickedneſs, he will be guilty of that
Wickedneſs himſelf, though it be not plain how far, nor in what Degree or
Meaſure; but if he Command, or ufe Authority with Arguments to his Son,
or Servant, to commit the fame Wickedness, he will be, in fuch Cafe, more
guilty, proportionably to the Power and Influence a Father or a Maſter is
fumed to have over a Son or Servant, which he uſes to fo bad purpoſe. If
David the King, or Joab the General, command a Common Soldier to retire
from Uriah in the Heat of Battle, and leave him to perish, they will be fome-
what more guilty of Uriah's Death, than a common Officer would be, though
counſelling the fame Thing; becauſe the Authority and Influence of the for-
mer was ſo much greater, and more like to take Effect; and the Soldier is
prefumed to be more at Liberty to refufe his Compliance with fuch unjuft and
villainous Commands, when they come from one who is nearer to him, and
whoſe Diſpleaſure he dreads not fo much, nor hopes fo much from his Fa-
vour. Thus there are many ways of doing Miſchief and committing Wicked-
neſs, befides the being actually and perfonally concerned in doing it; and let
the Means be what they will, we fhall be anfwerable for them, as far as
they are ours, and for the Force we give them by our Command or Threats,
by Counſel and Perfwafion, by our abetting, and Encouragement and Appro-
bation; nay, by our very Looks and Geſtures, and fometimes our Silence.
Whatever Way we take defignedly to influence any one to what is Wicked,
no doubt we ſhall be anſwerable for; for this is our Ability and Power, and
this we uſe to Miſchief, and forbidden Purpoſes. Let the People therefore that
are bufied in this bad Work of fetting others upon wicked Actions, confider
this, That however Innocent they appear to the World, and unconcerned, how-
ever wary to avoid the Cenfure of the People, and the Puniſhment of the
Laws, by keeping out of Sight, and at a Diſtance; they are nevertheleſs guilty
before God, according to the Power and Influence they have had over the In-
ftruments of Wickedness that they employed; and that it will avail them lit-
tle at the Day of Judgment, to have kept their Tongues from Perjury, and
their Hands from Blood, or other Violence, when their Hearts have been deep-
ly concerned in willing and defiring, and contriving and refolving, and their
Tongues employed in infinuating, perfwading, threatning, or commanding Wick-
edneſs to other People.
This
the Queen, June 17. 1705.
377
5
This Ufe we may well make of this Circumftance of the Matter of Uriah
David is charged with killing him, although he perished by the Sword of Ammons
His Heart was in the Matter, he uſed his Authority with Joab, and he his with
other People, and fo the Man perished. The Fountain of this Wickedness was
David; it was he that killed Uriah.
When David role up from his Bed, and fell into the Snare that was not laid
for him, but for which his Sloath and Fulneſs moſt unhappily difpofed him,
(and which ought to warn us all, the great ones moft efpecially, of the great
Dangers of luxurious Idlenefs) how little did he think of all theſe Confequences!
O turn away mine Eyes, left they behold Vanity I was a Prayer that ſhould not then
have been forgotten. That curious heated Gaze, will cost you all your Inno-
cence and Virtue; you will debauch the Loyalty of the Wife, abuſe the braveſt
Subject that you have, and murther him at laft, and imbrue in his Blood the
Hands of a great General; and it may be, of many other, innocent as yet, and
honeſt Officers and Soldiers. Had thefe Things been foretold, they had fcarcely
been believed; but yet they came to paſs, and not unnaturally or ftrangely: One
Sin engages us in more, and when once we leave the right Way, we know not
whither we ſhall wander. This is a Leffon that we ought for ever to remem-
ber; and could we fee, as fure as we fhall feel the Confequences of our Actions,
we ſhould be conftantly upon our Guard; and we might fee, as well as need
to be, would we confider human Nature, and our felves, and obferve how it
has generally been with other People; for where the Paffions of Men are at
the Bottom, and the great moving Springs, we may reaſonably expect the like
Effects and Fruits in all Men, and in all Ages.
ز
Another Ufe that we may make of Nathan's Application, may be, to uſe his
Words our felves upon Occafion; to be in earneſt, and to let our Confciences
pronounce theſe Words diftinctly to us, Thou art the Man, when there is Rea-
fon. A Prophet will not always be at Hand, to tell us when we have offended;
but every one's own Heart will be to him a Prophet, and ſpeak it plainly to
him, if he will but hear it. We do not want a very faithful and exact Re-
membrancer within, of God's own Appointment, if we will give our felves
but leave to meditate and recollect. And this indeed is the true Ufe we are to
put our Memories to, when we read or hear the Word of God, or Books of hu-
man Compofition and Authority, Religious or Hiftorical, or hear Difcourfes in
thefe Places. We may, by an honeft Application, make good ufe of all we hear
or read
find our felves often reprefented and deferibed; often ſpoken to, ex-
horted and reproved, commanded, threatned, and encouraged, in the Perfon of
other People; it is fpoken in general; we our felves muſt bring it home; it is
faid of a certain I know not who; the Confcience is to fay, Thou art the Man;
our publick Labours elfe would be to little purpofe. We do, and muſt direct
our Difcourfes to the World of Hearers in general, and fpeak of Duties, and in-
fift upon Commands and Prohibitions, and on moft Points, in general; and dwell
not on private Cafes, or particular Occafions, of which we know little or nothing;
it is the Part of every fingle Hearer, to make a faithful and exact Application
of what belongs to him, himſelf: This Command is general, and obliges me; this
Prohibition takes in me; this is a Duty I have long neglected, a Fault of which I
have not yet repented; fo as to forego it; this is a general Sin, in which I am invol-
ved;
this Offence is laid to David's Charge, but yet my Conſcience tells me too, I am
the Mar The Man that has abufed his Neighbour, and defiled his Bed, and
thrown a fpurious Iffue into his Poffeffions; the Man that has deprived his Neigh-
2 Fff
bour
378
A Sermon Preached before
bour of his Fame and Honour, by fecret Lies and Slanders, fent abroad into the
World by other Peoples Folly and Credulity; deprived him of his Eftate by Per-
juries and forged Deeds, of People hired to it by my Contrivance and Suggeftion,
and Rewards. Some fuch way as this it is, that what we hear or read muft operate;
it is thus that Mofes and the Prophets, Chrift and his Evangelifts, Apoftles, and other
Miniſters, though Dead, yet ſpeak to us; and thus we muſt avail our felves of their
Inftructions, Exhortations and Corrections; our Hearts will never fail of reminding
us what Applications will be proper, unless we corrupt them by wicked Principles,
continual Pleaſures, or Sottifhnefs uninterrupted.
It was a ſtrange Lethargy that David fell into for the Space of at leaft Tem
Months; and one can hardly tell how a Man fo quick and tender as he was,
could poffibly continue fo long unmolefted. The Liberties of Princes and great
Men in the Eaft were always very great, and fo continue to this Day; and no-
thing puts fo ſtrong an Impediment in the Way of the Goſpel, as that one Ar-
ticle of Women; but yet Adultery was fo pofitively forbidden and puniſhed by
Mofes's Law, that David, an underſtanding Jew, could not excufe himſelf to
himſelf by any fuch Eastern Indulgences: And as for the Murther, David knew
better than all the World befides, that he was guilty of it; the World concluded
he fell in open Battle, by the Hand of a declared Enemy; but David knew his
own Intentions and his Orders. We are therefore at Liberty to think, that
David was not, for Ten whole Months, perfectly ignorant and unconcerned,
and without all troubleſome Reflection on what had paft; but that he was, like
People half afleep, alarmed with a fort of diftant Noife, but not enough to waken
them throughout; he lay as it were in pleaſing Slumbers, and was afraid of rifing
to a full Recollection of what he had done, and yet not quite able to fhake it
off. In the Ignorance we are in of what could give him full Security under the
Burthen of fuch Sins, we may reaſonably enough conclude he was not altogether
undiſturbed, though he was but now awakened thoroughly. It is no new Thing
for People to live ſecure and unrepenting of great Sins, for as many Years as David
did Months; but their Confcience is not all that Time afleep, their Hearts do all
that while their Office, and rebuke them often; but they are neither heard, nor
attended to as they ſhould be; and that, it is probable, was David's Cafe, till
Nathan came from God, and brought him fully to his Senfes.
But be that as it will; let a Man but deal fincerely, and be true to himſelf,
I think his Confcience will never fail of doing its Office, of giving him good
Warning of offending, and of reproaching him with his Offences, and telling him,
without Diſguiſe, He is the Man. When I fay, therefore, that a Man ſhould uſe
theſe Words of Nathan, and be a Prophet to himſelf, I mean that he ſhould uſe
no Shifts or wicked Arts, to ftifle his Remembrance of his former Life; but let his
Confcience do its Part, in reflecting on what is paft, and in applying faithfully
what is heard or read, proper to his Condition; and I make no doubt but he
would often hear it fay with Nathan, thou art the Man. And truly, unleſs a
Man will do his Heart this Right, as to let it fpeak freely, rebuke, admonish,
and remind, upon fit Occafions, without endeavouring to choak or filence it by
vicious Habits, and a conftant Succeffion of Buſineſs or Diverfions, it will be hard
for him ever to be again renewed to Repentance; a Prophet is not ready always
to make ſuch ſeaſonable Applications as a Man's own Confcience will, which tra-
vels always with him, nor prefs Particulars fo home; and if there ſhould be one,
he might not, poffibly, be heard; for when a Man has hardened himſelf againſt
the Reproaches that his own Heart makes him, and baffled it by frequent Slightings
and
the Queen, June 17. 1705.
379
and Rejectings, it will naturally flacken, grow by degrees lefs fenfible, and let the
Man go on unchecked and uncontroulled, and then the Prophet never can be heard;
and this is the natural way of hardening the Heart, till, in Time, it come to be
wholly unaffected with what it reads or hears, and all Inftruction, Exhortation,
and Rebuke, is loft upon it; the fearfulleft Condition a Man can fall into, and
hardly to be avoided by any one who flights this faithful Monitor, which is placed
by God in him, to guide him, and direct him.
Theſe are ſome of the Uſes we may make of this Tranfaction betwixt the Pro-
phet and the King. And when ſo good a Man as David falls into fuch horrible
Offences, the reſt of the World had need be much upon their Guard. But this is
no Encouragement to either good or bad People; they have nothing to imitate of
this Example, but the Readineſs of hearkning to the Voice of God, either ſpeaking
to their Hearts by fecret good Suggeſtions, and Remembrances of their Offences,
or to their Ears, by the Reproofs of his Holy Word, or by his Prophets warning
them to Repentance and Amendment. And they who will do this, and with
Sincerity and true Contrition humbly confefs their Sins before God, refolve to leave
them preſently, and by his Grace, live in his Fear, and a careful Obedience for the
future, fhall hear the Word of God pronounced to their Ears by the Prophet Nathan,
and confirmed to their Hearts by Faith in the Blood of Jefus Chrift, The Lord hath
put away thy Sins, thou shalt not die.
The
The PREFACE to the READER.
W
HEN I had fet down, in the First Chapter, the Reafon and Occafion of
writing this little Book; and, in the following Ones had given the Proofs
of my
Determination; and, in the Laft, had fewn the Up and Appli
tion of them, I thought I had made an End of my Buſineſs.
But the Bookfeller, it feems, is of the Opinion, that I ſhould not ſher myſelf Respect-
ful enough to you, unless I introduced you, by the way of Preface. To comply, therefore,
with his Defires, I must needs think of faying fomething, though it be but to difcover
Jome of the Imperfections of this Book.
*
The Chapters then, of Money, might have been much more compleat; by the Addition
of five, or fix Plates of the feveral Coins we have had, fince the Conqueft. Of the
Golden Ones, I defpair of ever feeing a Collection, of any tolerable Antiquity; fince
they who are best, as I hear, provided of theſe Treaſures, can rife no higher than Ed.
III. And for my own Part, I have never feen any one Piece, older than H. VI. and
that was, I believe, a French one too: And I am confident, that to a common Curio-
fity, a Piece of Gold, older than the laft Edward, will appear a very great Rarity.
And yet, for full Five hundred Years fince the Conqueft, one may well imagine, that
moſt of the great Payments must have been made in Gold ; fince (as I think, I have made
appear) for three hundred Years after that Time, there were no other Silver Pieces coined,
than Pence, Half-Pence, and Farthings: and for one hundred and fifty Years next of-
ter, there were no other than a Groat and Half-Groat. Henry VII. being the firſt that
ever coined a Shilling, and that too at the latter end of his Reign, and but a very few
of them: So that when you read (out of that Paſſage of Gervafe of Tilbury, cited at
large by Mr. Lowndes, and whom I have, by Miftake, in Page 399, cited as writing
in the Time of H. I. instead of H. II.) fub omnium Oculis effundit in Scaccario xxiiii
Solidos, quos de Acervo fumptos prius fignaverit. And a little after, Reliquos vcrò
xxiiii Solidos mittit in Loculum. When, I fay, you read thefe Paffages, and others like
them, in ancient Writers of the Engliſh Affairs, you are not to conclude that there was
then any fuch Piece as a Shilling coined, no more than you would conclude there was fich
a Coin as a Pound, though you often meet with the word Libra. Upon the whole Mat-
ter, till about 1544, the Silver Money of England confifted of Groats, Half-Groats,
Pence, Half-Pence (called, of old, Mails) and Farthings: In any, or all, of which
Pieces, it muſt have been very troubleſome, to have paid five, or ten thousand Pounds :
which makes it ſomewhat strange, that no more Gold of Ancient Kings ſhould be
ferved among us. But fo, the Antiquaries tell us, it is with Grecian and with Roman
Pieces, there being forty Medals preferved, for one Piece of Currant Coin, that we can
be fure of. So that the beft Reafon, why we have fo few old Gold Coins remaining with
us, feems to be, because they were (as we call them) Currant, i. e. they might be easily
Spent.
pre-
But this that has been faid, makes it appear, that a ſmall Plate or two would hold
the Coins of Silver, of five hundred Years. For the Coins of W. Conq. W. II. H. I.
Stephen, H. II. R. I. John, H. III. Ed. I. Ed. II. were only Pence, Half-Pence,
and Farthings. The Coins of Ed. III. R. II. H. IV. H. V. H. VI. Ed. IV. R. III.
were only Groats, Half-Groats, Pence, Half-Pence, and Farthings. H. VII. (as is
above-faid) added to this Number, the Shilling, which is, I believe, hard to meet with¸
H. VIII. added no new Species, but, in his later Life, debafed all the old ones. Ed. VI.
debaſed them yet more, but in his laft Year, made great amends, and added, Crowns,
Half-Crowns, Six-Pences, and Three-Pences, (ſo that I have mistaken, Page 391. in
Saying Three-Pences were first coined by 2 Elizab.) As to the Coins of the Princes
following, they have been in almost every Bodies Hands: But yet the Memory of their
Weight, Fineneſs, and Compaſs, ought to be preſerved to Pofterity, much better than
'tis like to be. And we fee the Neceffity of the late new Coinage, hath almost oblits-
3 A
rated
* In his Efay.
The PREFACE to the READER.
rated the Names of E. VI. 2. Mary, 2. Eliz. Jac. I. and C. I. already. So that an
hundred Years bence, it will be hard to know, what fort of Money was coined by Them;
which would be great Pity, fince they coined excellent Money, both for Weight and Fine-
ness, which is both to the Advantage and Honour of a Nation. This Evil, I once
thought to have remedied; but the Trouble of procuring, rather than the Charge of cut-
ting a fingle Piece of each Prince, fince the Conqueft, was, I found, too great for fuch
a One as I am: and whoever attempts it, must be obliged to abundance of curious Per-
fons, who have thefe Coins in their private Cabinets. And I here befpeak their Favour,
if I should ever have Time and Power to undertake it:
I have alfo, in the Second Chapter, omitted all Quarter-Pieces of Gold, of whatever
Denomination, because they will be eaſily known, by knowing the whole: as alfo the
51. and the 21. Pieces of Gold of Ch. II. and the 3 1. Pieces of Ch. I. and fome other
Juch like, because they rather feem to have been Medals than Currant Coin.
As to the Chapter of Prices, it will be in every Body's Power, to make it more còm-
pleat, by reading the old Computus's, that he ſhall chance to light upon, and inferting
what he finds wanting, or differing from the Accounts, that I have given: but moſt
especially the Gentlemen of each Univerfity, will have it in their Hands, to make what
Amendments they ſhall fee good, out of their old Rolls, and Burfars Accounts; which I
look upon as the most fure Guides, in Enquiries of this Nature, becauſe our General Hif-
tories do moſtly give us the Prices of Things, which are extraordinary, either for Cheap-
neſs, or for Dearneſs. Whereas the College-Accounts, deliver faithfully the ordinary
and common Price of moft Commodities, and Provifions.
One Thing more I must obferve to you; That the Nature of the Work obliged me, I
thought, to fet down the Names of the Authors, out of which I collected the Materials
of this Book; as well to justifie my felf, as that you may recur to the Originals, when-
ever you please, in the particular Years: as alfo to avert, a little, that Scorn, with
which fome, in their fupercilious Gravity, may purſue the Collectors of fuch light and
trivial Matters; when they shall find, that no Engliſh Hiſtorian, of any tolerable
eſteem among us, bath failed to make Obfervations of the like nature. Nay, fome con-
fiderable Ones, have made it ſo much their Business, that they feldom conclude a Year
without informing us, whether it were, a dear, or a cheap one.
This Remark will also help to remove the Oftentation of much Reading, because
there is no need of reading an Author throughout, to find what I have here diſcovered;
the Method of many of them, making it easier to do fo, by fetting down (as I faid) the
Price of Corn, and other Provifions, at the End of every Year. But fo far I muſt
needs oftentate my Reading, as to affure you, that I have viewed with my own Eyes,
and tranſcribed from all the Originals, whatever I have fet down; even many Particu-
lars, which I have been content to give you very often, in honeft Mr. Stow's Engliſh.
I
But, after all the Care I could take, I am fenfible, there must needs be many Faults,
and many Miſtakes, in a Work of this Nature; and One I have already found, which
I think my felf obliged to retract, in this Place, becauſe it is too late to do it in its pro-
per One; and that is, a Cenfure I paffed on Mr. Speed's giving us fo many Two-
Pences, and Three-Pences of Saxon Kings, and fome others, fince the Conqueſt.
was led into it, (as others have been) by thinking he intended to mark Two-Pences,
and Three-Pences by the Figures of 2 and 3, which, I am now fenfible, he intended for
another Purpoſe. And therefore, as it would be an Error in any One, to think thoſe
Pieces were coined fo early, ſo I must needs acquit Mr. Speed, either of being in that
Error himſelf, or of leading any others into it by Defign, altho' thofe Figures are placed
over the Coins I there mentioned in Page 392. I have made fome fort of Amends howe-
ver, for theſe Errors, by taking more than ufual Care, that you ſhould have as few Er-
rata's of the Printer, as is poffible in a Work of this fort, and which you will find at the
Beginning of the Book.
CHRONICON
379
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM:
O R,
An ACCOUNT of ENGLISH Money,
Corn, &c.
T
CHA P. I.
The CASE.
HE Statutes of a certain College (to the Obſervation of which, every one
is fworn, when admitted Fellow) vacating a Fellowſhip, if the Fellow has
an Eſtate in Land of Inheritance, or a perpetual Penfion, of Five Pounds
per Ann. I defire you would be pleaſed, to give me your Anſwer to theſe
following Queſtions; when I have firſt told you, that the College was founded be-
tween the Years 1440, and 1460.
#
I. Whether He who is poffeffed of an Eſtate, of that, or greater Value, may make
it over in trust to his Friend, and then fafely fwear to the Obfervation of ſuch
Statute, amongſt the reſt?
}
II. Whether He who has not an Eſtate of that Value, when admitted Fellow, may
keep his Fellowſhip though he afterwards come to an Eſtate of that, or much
greater Value.
III. Whether He who is actually poffeffed of an Eſtate, of Six Pounds per Ann. as
Money, and Things go now, may fafely take that Oath, upon prefumption, that
VII. now, is not worth what V . was, when that Statute was made.
}
The Anſwer to your First Queſtion, may be eafily had, by your aſking your ſelf
another, viz. Whether that Eſtate, though made over to another, be not ſtill yours,
as to the Profits of it, for the preſent, and as to the Diſpoſal of it, for the future? If it
be, How can you ſafely fwear it is not yours, when you have it to all Intents and
Purpoſes? A Man may have a legal Title to an Eſtate, and yet not be Poffeffor of
it, nor receive any Fruits of it; he may be outed by Violence; it may be entirely
mortgaged; or fequeftered for payment of Debts; and during fuch Violence, Mort-
gage, or Sequeftration, he may ſafely fwear, he is worth but fo much as he truly and
indeed receives, and nothing more, let the Eftate be never fo great in it felf. And
ſuch an Oath as yours has not Refpect to the Title alone, but to the Title with the Pro-
fits of an Eſtate. And fince the making over your Eftate, does not (nor do
you in-
tend it ſhould) defeat you of either, How can you fave your Oath, by making over
the Title of it, and that, it may be, only for the prefent? No Man but He who has
a Mind to it, can be deceived by fuch Collufion. If an Act of Parliament ſhould dif-
charge all Debtors, who would fwear they were not worth five Pounds, would you be-
lieve
I
380
CHRONICON PREGIOSUM
up
lieve your Debtor an honeſt Man, who ſhould take fuch an Oath, when you knew he
had an Eſtate fufficient to diſcharge his Obligations to you, but had made it over to
another only to defeat his Creditoks? Affure yourself, fuch making, over your Eftate,
would not preferve you from the Guilt of Perjury, neither before God, nor good Men,
though you would fwear true according to the Letter. We lately heard of a Man, who,
to ſave himſelf from paying a certain Summ, aſſeſſed by Act of Parliament, made o-
ver a great Treaſure to his Neighbour (ignorant of the Matter) and locked him fafely
in his Cloſet, till he came into the Court, and took his Oath he had not fo much
Money in the World; and then came back, fet his Neighbour at Liberty, and took
his Treaſure again into his own Poffeffion. All who heard it, faid he was a perjured
Villain, and though he had eluded the Law, yet he remained a Debtor to God's Juf-
tice, which would certainly find him out. This was the extremeft Impudence. that
could be practiſed; but affure your ſelf, all Collufions of this kind, are as great Propha-
nations of an Oath as his was. They who make over the Titles of an Eſtate, and yet
reſerve the Profits, are in the fight of God (as well as their own) as much Maſters of
thoſe Eſtates, as if they had the Titles of them alfo in their Cabinets.
Your Second Queſtion feems to require more Pains to anſwer it, than the Firſt. But
it only feems fo, for there is in Truth, but little Difficulty in it, if you confider never fo
little, the plain and viſible Intention of your Founder; which was, that no Body worth
five Pounds per Ann. ſhould be Fellow of his College: Why elſe ſhould he-require
you, to declare, under an Oath, you would obey that Statute? It is manifeft, that if
you had an Eſtate above that determinate Value, you could not take that Oath; and, if
you could not take that Oath, you could not be admitted Fellow. The having that
Eſtate therefore, muft of neceffity hinder you, by the Founder's viſible Intention, from
being admitted Fellow; Will not the fame Intention, therefore hinder you from continu-
ing Fellow? I do not, however, directly charge with Perjury, fuch Continuation, un-
lefs you deny, or do induſtriouſly conceal, your having fuch an Eſtate; becauſe I am
not fure you are obliged (by Virtue of your general Oath) to vacate, of your own ac--
cord, your Fellowſhip, but to ſubmit to the Directions, or Injunctions of
Superiours, and the Judges appointed in fuch Cafes. But yet
tion of that Statute, as I would not counſel you to venture on.
ther Cafe, not much removed from this, may better clear up
it appeared to be the Purpoſe of your Founder, that no married Man fhould be Fellow
of his College, and that before Admiffion, every one were required to fwear he was not
married; Might One be married after ſuch an Oath, and continue Fellow, honeftly,
and with a good Confcience? I believe you will not think he might; but will rather
conclude, that the Force of that Oath was, by the Founder intended to fecure his main
Purpoſe, of having none but fingle Men Fellows of that Society; and that that Cir-
cumſtance which would have prevented his Admiſſion, would alſo, at any time after,
exclude him. Thus, I believe, you would determine in any other's Cafe, and without
any Bias on your Mind; and yet ſuch Oath does not, in Terms, directly take in future
Time; but only fays, I am not married: I am not worth fo much, &c.
your lawful
I think it fuch a Viola-
And, it may be, ano-
this Queſtion. Suppoſe
Your Third and laft Queftion will coft me more Pains, and you more Patience, be-
fore we come to the Conclufion; if we can come to any ſatisfactory one at laſt. The
Queſtion would certainly need no Anſwer, if it were aſked in grofs, Whether he who
kas VI Pounds per Ann. may fafely fwear he has not V? When a Pound is, in both
Places (and has been fo for more than fix hundred Years) XX s. but as you have qua-
lified it, by diſtinguiſhing the Times, it will require both a good Cafuift, and a pretty
good Hiftorian, to anfwer it abfolutely, and to your Purpofe; which is (as I take it)
I
to
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M. 181
to know, of what Value you may hold án Eſtate, with fafety to your Confcience,
which is charged with the Obfervation of that Statute, which vacates the Fellowſhip of
One who has an Eſtate of Inheritance, or a perpetual Penfion of C s. or V I. per Ann.
A better Cafuift, I own, you might have eafily found. But, it may be, you
be, you could
not ſo eaſily have found One, who hath in his Readings, made more Obfervation on
the Price of Corn, and other Commodities, at different Times, than I have done, as
you will perceive by reading this long Letter. So that, for ought I know, my Dili-
And
gence may make you Amends for what want of Judgment may be found in me.
I do not ſay this in Vanity and Oftentation of my Labour, but becauſe without a good
ſhare of Knowledge in theſe Matters, the beſt Cafuift in the World can never anfwer
your Queſtion fatisfactorily. And indeed, as the World now goes, the greateſt (though
I will not think the beſt) part of Readers, will be rather apt to defpife, than to com-
mend the Pains that are taken in making Collections of fo mean Things, as the Price
of Wheat, and Oats, of Poultry, and fuch like Provifions: Though, I hope, before İ
have done, to fhew you, that the Obfervation of theſe little Things, may be of good
uſe, in the Confideration of great Affairs. And when you ſhall find, that many a
fingle Line, of this Letter, has coft me the looking over a great Book, you will rather
think fit to commend my Induſtry, than to difparage fo many good Authors, out of
whom I have gathered theſe Materials: At leaſt, you will think I wanted no Good-
will to do you Service, who have taken fuch Pains to ſatisfie your Queſtion, that if any
ancient Greek or Latin Writer had taken the like, and left us fuch Collection, you
would have had the Salmafius's, the Grævius's, and the Gronovii almoft out of their
Wits for very joy. But I am now come to your Queſtion, and muſt premife, before
I ſpeak to it, that whereas you fay your Statutes were made betwixt the Years 1440,
and 1460. I muft, to fave Labour, call this Space, the Reign of H. VI. though his
Reign began eighteen Years fooner.
I do affirm then, with the beſt Judgment I have, that I am ſeriouſly perfuaded, that,
although you are actually poffeffed of an Eſtate of VI Pounds per Ann. as Money and
Things go now, you may fafely take that Oath, upon Prefumption that VI Pound
now, is not worth what V I. was then, when the Statute was first made. Becauſe
whoever fwears, fwears to Things that are fignified by Words, and not to mere words.
When a Word fignifies the fame Thing now in effect, which it fignified two hundred
and fixty Years ago, then he who fwears to Words, fwears to the Things they ſignifie;
but when different Things are fignified by the fame Word, then he who knows that
difference of Things, cannot help giving fuch Word, its proper and intended fignifica-
tion. A Pound (for inftance) will buy either more, or lefs Corn (take it which way
you will) now, than it would in H. VI. timé. A Pound is therefore of more or less Va-
lue now, than it was then; and the Value of a Pound is truly a Pound, and not its
mere Name. It is not therefore the fame Thing now, that it was in H. VI. time.
I wiſh, I confefs, with all my Heart, that all Oaths were ſo contrived and ſo word-
ed, that they might be taken with the utmoſt plainneſs and fimplicity; and that no
Room or Occaſion could be left for any mental Reſervation, or Exception in the Mind:
But I think it can never be; almoſt all Words are Equivocal: And it is impoffible to
fix a determined Senſe, on the Denominations of Coin, when all Things purchaſable
with Money, are fo changeable and uncertain. I do not mean, that a Pound, a Mark,
and a Shilling, might not be always fixed, ſo as to fignifie XX s. XIII s. IV d. and
XII d. but that it never can be fo ordered, in this World, that a Man ſhould always,
two hundred Years ago, and now, and two hundred Years hence, purchaſe the fame
Quantity of Corn, the fame Number of Chickens, and as many Yards of Cloth, at
one Time as another, with a Pound, a Mark, or a Shilling. And if this cannot be,
then
3 B
382
CHRONICON PRECIOS U M.
then I maintain, that a Pound, a Mark, and a Shilling, is not how the fame Thing
with a Pound, a Mark, and a Shilling, two hundred Years ago. And therefore I may
fafely take my Oath, that, although I am worth VII. as Money and Things go now,
yet I am not worth V I. as Money and Things went two hundred and fixty Years ago,
in the Days of H. VI. And if it be faid, that I muſt needs take the Words of my
Oath in their Plain, Literal, and Grammatical Senfe; I anfwer, That fo I muſt,
wherever I can; but in this Cafe, the Plain, Literal, and Grammatical Senfe of Five
Pounds, is not the fame, with what it was two hundred and fixty Years ago. What
fhall I do then? Shall I prefer the Plain, Literal, and Grammatical Senfe of
Words at this prefent, before the Plain, Literal, and Grammatical Senfe of the fame
Words as it ſtood two hundred and fixty Years ago; which, I am fure, was the Senſe
of the Founder? I grant, that if it were a Cafe in Law, I fhould be determined by the
Senſe which the Words do bear at prefent; but as it is a Cafe of Confcience, I do round-
ly affirm, that V Pound, is not the fame Thing, at prefent, that V I. was in the Reign
of H. VI.
And that I may very honeftly have Regard to the Value of V I. two hundred and
fixty Years ago, will, I believe, appear evident from what I am going to fay; That
the Founder intended the fame Eafe, and Favour to Thoſe who fhould live in his Col-
lege two hundred and fixty Years after his Deceaſe, as to Thoſe who lived in his own
Time. Now, they who lived in his Time, might, with V Pounds, purchaſe ſo much
Bread, fo much Drink, Meat, Cloth, Firing, Books, and other Neceffaries, or Con-
veniencies: I know not exactly how much, nor is it material: I only fay, the Foun-
der intended I might keep fuch an Eſtate, as would fuffice to procure the fame Bread,
Drink, Meat, Cloth, Books, &c. as the other might have procured for V Pounds, two
hundred and fixty Years ago. But this I cannot poffibly do with VI Pounds, as Things
go now; nor it may be, with four Times as much. I may therefore have Regard
(though in an Oath) to the Value of Pounds at that time; and, unleſs I have, I fhall
be in a much harder Condition, than he who lived fo long ago; which is what the
Founder neither did, nor could intend. This Argument in general feems, to me, un-
anfwerable; and if you apply it to Particulars, you will fee its Force more clearly. Ufe
it, for Example, in the Buſineſs of taking Degrees in the University, to which you
know you are obliged, and without which a Fellowſhip muſt needs be vacated. A De-
gree might be taken two hundred and fixty Years ago, at five times lefs Charge, than
it can be at this Day; and if a Fellow muft loſe his Fellowſhip for want of a Degree,
may it not very eafily come to paſs, that he ſhall not be able to pay for that Degree, if
he may not be worth more than V Pounds per Ann. as Money goes now? Some
Founders have, in Cafes of extream Poverty, made Allowances, for indigent and virtu-
ous Scholars, towards the taking their Degrees: but if you look into thofe Statutes, you
will find that thofe Allowances are (as Money and Degrees go now) fo very
rable, that they fignifie little or nothing towards it, which yet in thoſe early Days,
would, (with a little help of Friends) have been fufficient to the intended Purpoſe.
This is a clear Proof, that Regard both may and muſt be had, to the different Value
of Money, at different Times; and that the Founder's viſible Intention is better anſwer-
ed by fuch Regard, than it would be by a strict and obftinate Adherence to the bare
Letter of the Statute.
inconfide-
This Inconvenience (you may poffibly object) will follow, from departing from the
preſent Value of a Pound, and having regard to what it was formerly; namely, That
hereby too great a Liberty will be taken in Oaths of this Nature: Some will be apt to
run the Matter too high, and (by reaſon of the uncertainty we are in, what Proportion
a Pound at preſent bears to a Pound in H. VI. time) may pretend to keep their Fellow-
ſhip, with an Eſtate of great Value. And to this I anfwer, That, for ought I know,
I
it
CHRONICON PRECIO SÚ M.
383
it will now and then happen,' as you furmife; nor is there any one Rule that is not fub-
ject to Abuſe. And therefore I do not preſume to ſet out, with any Exactneſs, or Cer-
tainty, and much leſs to determine Pofitively, how great an Eſtate is, at preſent, equi-
valent to an Eſtate, of the fame Denomination, two hundred and fixty Years ago. I
leave that to Others, to gather from the particular Accounts of Things that I ſhall give
them, from our Hiftorians. And they who are concerned, ought ſeriouſly to confider,
that although a Pound in H. VI. Time, might be worth four or five, or more, in our
own Times, yet it was not worth twenty or thirty. And therefore the uncertainty of
its Value cannot encourage any reaſonable Man, to advance it to an extravagant height.
They who are the Guardians of your College-Statutes, cannot (I believe) tell you ex-
actly, how much Land of Inheritance, or how great a yearly perpetual Penfion, will
now-a-days anſwer to V Pounds in H. VI. Reign: but yet they can tell you that 60 or
70l. per Ann. will be too much to keep together with a Fellowſhip, if it be Land of
Inheritance, or a perpetual Penfion. And furthermore (which is an Anſwer to all Ob-
jections of this Kind, and a fufficient Reſtraint to all Exorbitance) thefe Guardians of
your Statutes, have it in their Power (if it be fit to have it in their Will) to judge ac-
cording to the Letter, and to determine that V Pounds, as Pounds do now go, fhall be
the limited Summ, which ſhall not be exceeded. For the Letter is the Judge's Rule,
and the Senſe he pleaſes to put upon that Letter, is that by which you are to be deter-
mined, without Appeal or Remedy, unleſs he ſays that V I. is any thing lefs than an
Cs. And though I believe they never will determine, in any fuch Cafe, without re-
gard to Equity, and Reaſon, and comparing of Times, yet if they ſhould, you would
be obliged to abide by their Judgment. And therefore all I have. faid, or can fay on this
Head, is only to fhew you, what I think may be fafely done with refpect to Equity,
and a good Confcience: Not to exempt you from the Jurifdiction of your lawful Su-
periours, but to fhew you what you may do as an honeſt Man, though what you do,
does not agree exactly with the Letter of the Statutes, to which you arc obliged, nay
(if you will) to fhew you, what you may innocently do, even when you may be pu-
niſhed for fo doing.
But fince I have faid, that great regard is to be had to the Founder's Intention, where,
and as far as it appears, you may perhaps defire to know, from whence it comes to
paſs, that a Fellow is, without diſpute, allowed to enjoy the Interest of Money, or the
Profits of a Leafe to a much greater Value, than that of V Pounds per Ann. when the
Intention of the Founder feems to be plainly defeated by fo doing? I anſwer you, That
the Intention of the Founder does not feem plainly to be defeated, by holding a Leafe,
or by receiving the Interest of Money; becauſe of the uncertainty of this Proviſion:
Your Money may be loſt by many Accidents; and if it ſhould, then you are quite de-
ſtitute and undone: And a Leafe is generally for a Term of Years, which you may
chance to outlive, and then you may be in as ill a Condition: But Land of Inheri-
tance, and a perpetual Penfion, are as certain a Proviſion, for Futurity, as the ſtate of
human Affairs will allow of. This, you fee, makes a great difference. But more-
over, I do not fay, that you are to feek for the Founder's Intention any farther than it
plainly appears in his Statutes; nor that you are obliged, in many Cafes, to argue from
a Parity of Reaſon. Money was put out to Intereft, and Leafes were made, in the
time of H. VI. and your Founder, who lived in his Reign, knew this very well, and
therefore had it in his Power, to have mentioned, and excepted Intereſt and Leafes, in
his Statutes, had he ſo pleaſed; and not having made any fuch Exceptions, you have
no Reaſon to preſume, that his Intention was to except them, but to enjoy the Liberty
The leaves you at. Where Law-givers are at Liberty to oblige and bind their Subjects,
and may uſe what Terms and Words they pleaſe, to fignifie fuch Obligation, their
Words
384
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
Words are prefumed to include no more than they exprefs: their Silence neither profits;
nor hurts any one, it is their expreſs Words that do both.
Suppofing therefore, that you are convinced, that you may innocently fwear to the
Obfervation of the Statutes, and yet intend to keep your Fellowship, although you
have an Eſtate of VI Pounds për Ann. upon Prefumption that VI Pounds now-a-days,
are not equal to V Pounds two hundred and fixty Years ago:
Suppofing, I fay, this; I am now at Liberty to proceed to an Hiſtorical Account of
Money, and of the different Price of Corn, and other Commodities; that by under-
ſtanding both, and comparing one with the other, you may be the better able, to de-
termine what Proportion, a Pound, a Mark, a Shilling, or a Penny, now; bears to the
fame Denominations many Years ago. For this Account of Money, you will be ob-
liged to Fabian, and to Stow's Chronicle, to Sir H. Spelman, and others, but eſpecially
to Mr. Lowndes's Eſſay; I have only taken Leave and Pains to put Things into a Me-
thod which I thought better for my Purpoſe, and more for the Reader's Satisfaction,
than any of theirs would be. And firſt, of the feveral Names that you will often find
in reading over our Hiftories, both Latin and English. The Gold I have put Alphabe-
tically, that Recourſe may be had more eafly to them; the Silver, as better known,
Í ſpeak of gradually, beginning at the higheſt, which is a Pound, and coming to a
Farthing, which is the loweſt Engliſh Coin we have; and of which we have had none
made of Silver (that I can find) fince the 36 H. VIII. i. e. fince 1542; and thoſe were
certainly very bad, fince out of fix Ounces of fine Silver; (together with fix Ounces of
Allay) there were made two thouſand three hundred and four Farthings, the Pound (as
then moft abuſively called) going at 48 s. All the Denominations of Gold, were actu-
ally coined, at the Times I have fet down (and not ſooner, that we can find.) But for
the Silver, moſt of them were mere Names, and were never coined; which they were,
I obferve as I go along.
CHA P. II.
An Account of the Gold Coins.
were doubtleſs ſo called at firſt, from an Angel impreffed on one Side of
the Piece. And their Value was, at different Times:
Angels, was,
1.
S.
Angels.
1 H. 6.
00
VI
d.
VIII
I H. 8.
34 H. 8.
VII
VI
VIII
Half-Angels.
6 E. 6.
5 E. 4.
I H. 8.
34 H. 8.
X
oo
oÒ
III IV
III IX
Ŏo
IV
6 E. 6.
V
8 8
The Reader may perceive by this, that when he meets, in Hiftory, with the
word Angels, Half-Angels, Farthing-Angels, or with any other Coin, he muſt obſerve
what King's Reign he is in, to underſtand exactly what the Summ amounts to: for
otherwiſe he will miſtake. This I obferve to him, once for all, and go on.
$
Angelets.
1
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
385
1
1.
S.
d.
Angelets.
i H. 6.
34 H. 8.
III
IV
IV
6 E. 6.
oo
V
28.8
From hence it appears that Angelets, were the fame with Half-Angels.
Crowns of the Double Rofe. i H. 8.
1.
S.
d.
V
00
Britain Crowns.
I Jac. I.
V
00
9 Fac. 1.
V
VI
Double Crowns.
1 Jac. I.
9 Jac. I.
Oo
XI
Thistle Crowns.
I Fac. I.
IV
9 Jac. I.
IV
IV
ob. q.
Florens.
18 E. 3.
OÓ
VI
They were fo called, becauſe firſt made by Florentines, as Mr. Cambden fays. Fabian
fays, that theſe were not of fo fine Gold as his Nobles, and Half-Nobles were. But
that which is more obfervable is, that he calls the Floren, a Penny, value VIS. VIII d.
The Half-Floren he calls a Half-Penny, value 11s. IV d. The Quarter-Floren he
calls a Farthing, value Is. vIIId. And thefe Words you will often meet with in old
Hiſtories and Accompts, applied to feveral Coins, as Rials, Angels: Where you are to
underſtand, by Denarius, the whole; by Obolus the half; and by Quadrans, the fourth
Part, or Farthing.
Thus, 1344, about this time, the Noble, Obolus, and Farthing of Gold, began to
go about, faith H. Knyton.
Forty-Pence-Pieces.
1.
S.
d.
i H. 8.
III
IV
ΟΙ ΟΟ
oo tho' they pass for 11. 1s. 6d.
V
Oo
Guineas. 22 C. 2.
Moton, 1358, a French Piece of Gold, at
Oo
Noble. So called, becauſe made of the nobleft and pureft Gold.
Noble.
18 E. 3.
5 E. 4.
26 Eliz.
1.
S.
d.
888.
VI VIII
X
XV
Oo
George Nobles.
I H. 8.
VI
00
Double Nobles.
26 Eliz.
ΟΙ
X
0.0
Kials, or Kopals.
{
1 H. 6.
Oo
x
1 H. 8.
ao
XI
III
2 Eliz.
oo
XV
Rofe Rials.
Spur Rials.
3 Jac. 1.
ΟΙ
X
XV
8 8.8.
[
There is, in Dr. Kennet's Parochial Antiquities, mention made of Spurarium Aureum,
in Ann. 1292, or Spur Royal; but whether it were an Engliſh Coin or not, does not
appear.
3 C
Scute
386
CHRONICON PRECIOSU M.
Scute, a French Coin of Gold, 1427.
2.
S.
d.
III
IV
Sovereigns.
I H. 8.
ΟΙ
II
VI
34 H. 8.
ΟΙ
Oo
4 E. 6.
ΟΙ
IV
6 E. 6.
ΟΙ
X
oo old Stand.
ΟΙ
OO
00 22 Car. fine. 2 Car.Allay.
2 Eliz.
the fame in both Cafes.
Dnites.
1Jac. I.
ΟΙ
Oo
OO
10 Jac. I.
OI
II
Oo
Note, In 9 Jac. 1. by a Proclamation, Gold was raiſed 2 s. per Pound. Ch. the
Firſt brought it again to the Standard of 1 Jac. 1.
The following Table is collected out of Mr. Lowndes's Accounts, which, though
they differ in fome Points from Mr. Stow's, who alfo cites Records for fome of them, I
cannot chuſe but prefer, becauſe of his Abilities and Opportunities of giving them moſt
perfect. Premifing firſt, that a Pound of Gold, Troy-Weight, was divided into twenty-
four Carats; and each Carat into four Grains: And that the old Standard of England
was, twenty-three Carats, three Grains and a half of fine Gold, and half a Grain of
Allay, which might be Silver or Copper.
Fineness. Allay. Make in Silver.
car. gr. ca. gr
gr.\ca. 1. S.
Years.
18 E. 3.
23 3
23 31-
20 E. 3.
---
23 3 —
d.
[ત ક્ષિ ન ત
15 Oo
00 The fame Year.
I
13
03
04
14
* It ſhould
be 39 H. 6.
27, 30, 37,
46 E. 3.
18 R. 2.
23 3/1/20
- ત
15
Oo
Oo
9
H.
3 H. 4.
5. 23 3-
16
I H. 6.
23
•
4 H. 6.
23
3 =
49
* H. 6.
23
3=-=
5
E. 4.
23 3-=-=
તીત ભાત [ત ભૌત
22
16
13
ΙΟ
04
13
04
22
10
Oo
22
10
OO
8, 11, 16.
22 of E. 4.
I R.
23 3/1/1
22
ΙΟ
OO
3.
9
H. 7.
I H. 8.
The fame Year.
34 H. 8.
36 H. 8.
37 H. 8.
I
23 3-1
22 002
23
22
OOI O
002
2 2 2
27
25
28
1500
02 06
16
30
20
O
0014
30
I
E. 6.
20 004
30
3
E. 6.
22
002 0
34
4
E. 6.
23 3-
128
+8
88
16
Oo
6 E. 6.
23
3
133 1/12/1
36
6 E. 6.
22
00 2
33
I Mary
23 3 -/-/
36
2 Eliz.
23 3
36
2
Eliz.
22
002
33
Oo
19
Eliz.
23 3-
43
Eliz.
23 3
[ત = {a
36
Oo
Oo
36
IO
bo
1
Fineness.
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
387
Fineness. Allay. Make in Silver.
Years
43 Eliz.
car. gr. ca. gr.
1. S. d.
22
002 O 33
IO
Ι
I Jac. I.
22 002
37
IO
00
3
Jac. I.
23
3/1/2
30
10
Jac. I.
23
30
10
Jac. I.
2 2
Car. I.
12
I
Car. 2.
Jac. 2.
Car. I.
002
23 3/1/
002
002
22
HIN WIN O
40
ΙΟ
Σ
༧
44
OO
40
18
04
22
22
O 2 N
Z
44
IO
4I
44
ΙΟ
Q. Anne.
}
22 00 2 O
44 ΙΟ
W. and Mary
So that the fame Pound of Gold which in 18 E. 3. 1344, was worth 13, or 14, or
15 Pounds in Silver, is rifen, by degrees, to go for 44/. 10s. ood. and the Gold not
quite ſo fine neither. But if a Penny then, was worth our Three Pence, and XX s.
worth our LX s. then Gold and Silver have kept, pretty near, the fame Proportion to
each other; for three times 157. makes 451. which is but Xs. more than a Pound of
Gold now goes at.
CHA P. III.
An Account of Silver Money.
A XX s.
Pound, Libra, contains twelve Ounces; and though now it fignifies
(when applied to Money) which is but the third Part of a Pound in Weight, yet
it is becauſe XX s. did heretofore weigh a full Pound, or twelve Ounces. Each of theſe
Ounces contained ſo many Solidi or Shillings, and fo many Denarii or Pence, as they
who governed the Money-Matters thought fit; fometimes more, and ſometimes fewer.
Dr. Hicks, in his moſt learned, uſeful, and laborious Work (much to his own, and to
the Nation's Honour) tells us, pag. 111. Differt. Epiftol. that the Saxon Pound contained
LX Shillings. For this, he cites a Paffage out of the Textus Roffenfis; Ceorles Wergyld
is Myrcnalage CC Scill. Thegenes Weregyld is fix fwa micel; that byth XII hundred
Sill. Thonne bith Cyninges anfeald Wergyld, fix Thegena Wergyld, be Myrcanalage;
that is XXX thufend Sceata; that bith ealles CXX Punda. The Engliſh of which is,
A Churles Weregyld is, by Mercian-Law, 200 Shillings. A Thaines Weregyld is fix
times as much, i. e. 1200s. And the King's fingle Weregyld is as much as the Were-
gyld of fix Thains; that is 30000 Sceata. Which is in all 120 Pounds.
The very fame Words we find at the End of King Æthelftane's Laws, put out by
Mr. Lambard; and afterwards by Mr. Whelock at Cambridge, 1644. pag. 56. except-
ing that it is faid here, that a Ceorles Weregyld is 266 Thrimfæ, which make 200s. and
then goes on, as above; now if a Churles Weregyld be 200s. and a Thaines 1200s. and
a King's fix times as much, i. e. 7200s. and this laft Summ make but CXX 7. it will
follow, that there must go LXs. to the Pound, becauſe 120 multiplied by 60, pro-
duces 7200s. But if, as it is here faid, 266 Thrimfæ make 200s. and (as is ſaid in the
ſame place, pag. 55.) that a King's Weregyld is among the English 30000 Thrimfa:
then there will be found in 30000 Thrimſæ, juſt 22400 s. and 208 Thrimfæ remaining,
which will make above 373 1. though you ſhould allow 60s. to the Pound; which is
near to three times the Sum it ought to be. And if Thrimfa be (as that learned Perſon
concludes) 4 d. of Saxon Money, then 30000 Thrimfa will make 400/. allowing 60s.
3
to
388
CHRÓNICON PRECIOSU M.
1
to each Pound, which is more than three times 120 l. fo that nothing can be done
with Thrimfa, if 266 of them make 200 s. Now if we will allow but of a liftake
(not great in it ſelf) of CXX for CL, all things will go well, and the Saxon Pound
will continue, as it has all along been counted, to be made
up of 48 s. for 150 multi-
plied by 48, makes juft 7200 s. which is the King's Weregyld. There is alfo Reafon
to believe, that in King Cnute's Time (who reigned from 1017, to 1035,) the Saxon
Pound continued at 48 s. becauſe in his third Law, it is faid that he who breaks the
King's Peace in a Head Church, is to forfeit V I. If in a Second Rate Church, 120s.
If in a lefs Church, (but where there is a Church-Yard or Burying-Place) 60 s. If in a
Country Church (Feld Cyric) where there is no Church-Yard, 30 s. Here you fee
there is a gradual Diminution of the Mulet, VI. 120, 60, 30s. from whence I con-
clude that VI. was juft double to 120 s. that is, it was 240 s. which will make V I. at
48 s. the Pound; and it will not be double to 120 s. by any other Reckoning. To this,
let me add, that Mr. Cambden, Sir H. Spelman, in his Gloſſary, and Mr. Lambard in
his, do all of them agree, that the Saxon Pound was made up of 48 s. and give no In-
timation that it was ever otherwiſe, either more or leſs. I do not pretend, however,
that Dr. Hicks has not other Authorities, befides what is above cited, for what he af-
firms; for he is fo well ſkilled in theſe Matters, and has taken fo much Pains in them,
that he is not likely to fay a Thing that ſeems ſo new, without good Reafon. Let it
then be ſaid, that a Saxon Pound, did fometimes contain LXs. but generally 48 s. and
each Shilling contained 5 d. fo that a Pound, or Libra Anglo-Saxonica, contained 240d.
How long it continued thus, I cannot tell exactly, but in the Laws, which are called
King Edward's, 31. it is faid, In Danelega, the Forfeiture for Breach of Peace, was
VIII. which was raiſed by the Hundred. Of this VIII. the King received 100 s. the
Sheriff
50s.
and the Biſhops Decanus (in whoſe Deanry the Peace was broken) the
other 10 s.
From whence it is clear, that VIII. contained 160 s. which is 20s. per
Pound. But becauſe it is manifeft, from the third Law, that this Collection of Ed-
ward's Laws was made after W. Rufus's Time (fince there is mention made of him,
by Name, in it) it will be better to ſay, that the Pound contained XXs. in William
the Conqueror's Time; becauſe in the IVth of his Laws, In Lege Danorum, foris factura
eft VIII lib. XX Solidi pro Capite, & VII libræ Regi. In Danelagh, the Forfeiture is
81. 20s. for the Head, and 7 l. for the King. And in 79 of H. 1. Infractio Pacis
Regis V lib. in Anglorum Lege. Media Ls. & adhuc minoris, ubi parva Parochia eft,
& Atrium cum fit XXV s. & Campeftris Capella, ubi non fit Atrium, XII s. VI d.
which is King Cnute's Law (above-recited) turned into Latin, and the Rates reduced
to the Money then currant : which confirms my Conjecture, that V I. was, there, dou-
ble to 120 s. becauſe it is here double to 50 s. And whoever looks into the Laws of
King Ina, Alfred, and others, and finds the fame Proportions of 120, 60, and 30s.
ſo oft obſerved in the Fines or Forfeitures of Offenders, will be apt to conclude
that the Pound was then 48 s.
There is alſo ſome diſpute, whether the Pound was made up of twelve, or of fifteen
Ounces. In the 30th of King Ethelred's Laws (as they are in J. Brompton) you will
find theſe Words; Let thoſe who overlook the Ports, fee, that every Weight at the Mar-
ket, be the Weight by which my Money is received, and let each of them be marked, ſo that
15 Ora make a Pound. And in Sir H. Spelman's Gloffary, you will find that Ora fig-
nifies Uncia, and fo in other learned Authors. But the fame moſt learned Knight tells
us, that Ora was alſo a Piece of Money, valued 16 d. for which he cites this Paffage.
Plac. coram Rege T. Mich. 37 H. 3. Rot. 4. The Men of Berkeholt, Com. Suffolc. Say,
that in the time of King Henry, the Grand-Father of our prefent Lord the King, they
had a Cuftom, that when they would marry out their Daughters, they were wont to pay,
for Leave fo to do, 2 Ora, which are valued at 32d. Now 15 Ore make juſt a Saxon
Pound,
I
CHRONICON PRECIOS U M.
389
Pound, 48 s. or fifteen times 16 Ora make 240 d. There is therefore no need of fay-
ing that Ora fignifies an Ounce in King Ethelred's Law, nor in the fame Law renewed
by King Cnute, (but which ought to be corrected by the Law of Ethelred, for inftead
of ad Mercatum, it is corruptly written admetatum.) Mr. Somner indeed (to whoſe
Judgment great regard is to be had in all theſe Matters) is of the Opinion, that there
was never any fuch Piece of Money as an Ora, but that it always fignifies an Ounce,
of which he ſays there were two forts, the one containing 16 Denarii, the other 20, (of
which there is ſo frequent mention made in the Dooms-day-Book) which was called the
greater Ounce. But then he agrees that there were but twelve Ounces in the Pound,
which can hardly be reconciled with Ethelred's Law. For if 15 Ore are to make a
Pound, and Ora be an Ounce, there will unavoidably be fifteen Ounces in the Pound.
And befides, he afterwards obferves (from Mr. Cambden, out of Regiftr. Burton) that
20 Ora are faid to be of equal value with 2 Marks of Silver. Now a Mark is 8 Ounces,
(when XX s. make a Pound in weight) and 2 Marks are 16 Ounces (which he values
at XXVI s. VIII d.) and if 20 Ora be 20 Ounces (as they muft, if Ora be neceffarily
an Ounce) then 20 Ounces are of equal value with 16 Ounces; which may be true
of the Pence that are made of an Ounce, but can hardly be true of the Name or De-
nomination of an Ounce. 12 Ounces, indeed, of 20 d. are equal to 15 Ounces of 16 d.
But he who ſays that 12 Ounces are equal to 15 Ounces, muſt underſtand ſomething
which his words do neither expreſs nor imply. It will never therefore be true, that Ora
ſhould always fignifie an Ounce; that there ſhould be 15 Ora in a Pound, and yet that
there ſhould be but 12 Ounces in the Pound. Whenever therefore it is faid, that there
are 12 Ora in a Pound, there Ora is 20 d. Whenever there are 15 Ora in a Pound,
then Ora is 16 d. Verelius in his Lexicon Scandicum, fays, Ore, Solidus, & tertia
pars Solidi. And Dolmerus (as he is cited by Du Frejne) fays, Ora, vernacule Aura,
Danis Ore, fuit olim genus monetæ, valens 15 Minuta. Which would make one think
it a Denomination of Money, rather than of Weight.
Oræ
It was a good Law of King Edgar, that there ſhould be the fame Money, the fame
Weight, and the fame Meaſures; throughout the Kingdom: but it was never well ob-
ferved. What can be more vexatious and unprofitable, both to Men of Reading and
of Practice, than to find, that when they go out of one County into another, they muſt
learn a new Language, or cannot buy or fell any thing? An Acre is not an Acre; nor
a Buſhel a Buſbel, if you travel but ten Miles. A Pound is not a Pound, if you go from
a Goldsmith to a Grocer; nor a Gallon a Gallon, if you go from the Ale-houfe to the
Tavèrn. What Purpofe does this Variety ferve, or what Neceffity is there, which the
Difference of Price would not better anfwer and fupply? It is impoffible to fix the Price
of an Acre of Land, or of a Quarter of Wheat, becauſe Land is much better in one
County than another, and becauſe the Price of Corn will depend upon the Plenty or the
Scarcity of it, and that upon the Goodneſs or the Badnefs of the Soil and Seafons. But
it is poffible to determine how many Feet, or Yards, length and breadth, an Acre ſhall
contain, in all Places alike; and poffible to determine how many Quarts a Bufhel, and
how many Bushel a Quarter fhall contain, ſo that every Body ſhall know theſe Things
alike, and neither be miſtaken nor impoſed upon. Theſe things, I know, have (fome
of them) been determined by Laws; but Cuſtom and Folly have made thoſe Laws
uſeleſs. And the Trouble that fuch Variety hath often given to me, as well as others,
will juſtifie this Digreffion. From which I now return to ſpeak of Libra Anglo-Nor-
manica, which contained XX s. and each Shilling contained, fometimes 16 d. but ge-
nerally 20 d. made out of an Ounce. The Libra Denariorum, and the Libra Sterlin-
gorum are the fame; their Ounce containing 20 d.. and in that they agree with the
Saxon Pound, though they differ in the Number of Shillings. M. Du Frefne (not to
be named without Honour) in Libra Gallica, fays, a Penny is the 20th Part of an
3 D
Qunce;
390
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
Ounce; and that 12 d. make a Shilling, and 3 Ounces make 5 s. It is therefore the
fame with Libra Anglo-Normanica. You will fee hereafter in the Table, how the
Pound differed, by being divided into more or fewer Shillings. I need not obſerve to
you, I think, that there was never any coined Piece of Silver, that either weighed, or
was called a Pound.
I
The next Denomination of Money, you will often meet with, is a mark, which
the Saxons call Marcus, Mancufa, Mearc, &c. and amongst them it came to XXX d.
which was, of their Money, VIs. Thus in the Laws of H. 1. c. 35. it is faid, XX
Mancæ quæ faciunt Solidos L. Now you will wonder that twenty times 6's. (i. e.
120s.) fhould make but 50 s. unleſs you remember that the 120 are Anglo-Saxonic
Shillings, and the 50 are Anglo-Normanic ones, and that each of them contain alike
600 Pence. Thus C 69. Debent reddi, fecundum Legem, XXX §. ad manbotam; idem
hodie quinque Marca. Here both the XXX s. and the quinque Marca are Saxonic. for
there are 5 times 6 in 30. And fo again, De Twelfbindo, i. e. Thaino, 120 s. qui fa-
ciunt 20 Marcas. In c. 34. Erga Hundredum XXX s. & V Denar. qui faciunt V
Marcas, ut Solidus den. XII. computetur. Which brings the Mark to VIs. 1d. In
the 76 c. a Mark is but 4 s. 6d. but I doubt not but it is a miſtake; and, indeed,
thofe Laws, as we have them now, are full of miſtakes: It is great pity Mr. Somner's
Corrections, Annotations, and Gloffary upon them, are not publiſhed, but lie obfcurely
in a private Library: the Labours of fo faithful and judicious an Antiquary are well
worth the Coft that any noble Lover of this fort of Learning would be at in making
them Publick, and would pay him with ample Praiſe and Honour. When a Mark
came to be valued at XIII s. IIIId. I cannot tell with any exactnefs, but M. Paris in
the Life of Guarinus Abb. of St. Albans, in Ann. 1194; and in 1235, tells us that a
Mark was then (1194) 13 s. 4 d. and fo it has continued to this Day, without any
variation: how long before that, appears not. I muft alfo obferve here, that there ne-
ver was any ſuch Piece of Silver as a Mark coined; and I cannot find any mention
made of any fuch Piece of Gold, fince the Norman Conqueft; though probably there
was, before, among the Saxons, with fome Mark or Signature upon it, for the English
word to mark, does probably come from it; or that from the Verb.
Angel. There was never any fuch Piece of Silver coined; but becauſe the Golden
Piece of that Name, was valued at X s. therefore X s. is called an Angel. And fo it is
with the word
Noble. Which goes for VIs. VIII d. in Accounts: but there has not been any fuch
Piece of Gold coined, at that Price, fincé the 9 H. 5. and when they were firſt coined
by E. 3. 1344, they feem not to have been very acceptable to the Nation, for thus
H. Knyton, p. 2484. reprefents the Matter. About this time the Noble, Obolus, and
Ferthing of Gold, began to go about, in the Kingdom; upon which, the Parliament or-
dained, that none of the Commons should be compelled in any Payments, to take above XXs.
of this new Money. This was not, becauſe the Gold was not good (for it was very fine,
and of the Old Standard) but becauſe (as I imagine) poor People could not get it eafily
changed into Silver, and fo would be diſtreffed; fòr at this time there were no Silver
Coins, but Pence, and Half-perce, and q s. it being at the fooneft, five Years before
there were any Groats or Half-Groats coined: which was about 1349. I fhall lofe
half a dozen Lines of my Common-Place-Book, if I may not, under this Head, tell you,
that in Ann. 1389, there were feven Coiners condemned and hanged, for bringing a
Noble (not to nine Pence, but) to Xs. making thefice fix Quadrantes, or Farthings.
A Noble of right contained 80 d. the Obolus, or Half contained 40 d. and the Quadrans
or Farthing contained 20 d. But by theſe falfe Coiners, a Noble was brought to 120d,
the Ob. to 60 d. and the Qu. to 30 d. ſo that there were two Quadrantes, above the four
good ones; which was their Profit. Ed. 4. raiſed the Noble from VIs. VIII d. tỏ X s.
3
which,
CHRONICON PRECIOS UM 391
which, though it was good Gold, and called by another Name (a Rial) yet was not
well accepted, but thought to be to the Prejudice of the Commonwealth; but for what
Reafon I know not.
A Crown. The firft Silver Coin of the value of V s. (that I can obferve) was in
Ed. VI. Days; the Name is old, but then it was always Gold.
Half-Crowns. Of the fame Date with Crowns, and never before.
Shilling, Solidus. The Latin word is of moft uncertain fignification, and to be
determined by every particular Nation: but the word Scylling of Shilling, never figni-
fied in England, but 5 d. with the Saxons, and 12 d. ever fince: when it went for 12 d.
at firſt, is hard to fay. But, as common as this word is, in all Books, and all Ac-
compts, yet there was never (that appears) any Piece of Silver of that Denomination
coined in England till the Year 1504, when Fabian fays, A new Coin of Silver Groats,
and Half-Groats, and Shillings with half-faces, was made. Stow fays, in the fame
Year, A new Coin was by Parliament appointed, i. e. Groat and Half-Groat, which
bare but half-faces. The fame time alfo was coined a Groat, which was in value 12 d.
but of thefe but a few were coined. He does not call them Shillings, but Fabian does,
and he lived at that very time, and was an obferving Citizen. However, the Name
does not appear, in Mr. Lowndes's Accounts, till a great while after. But Stow fays,
6 E. 6. there were coined, a Piece of Silver of Vs. a 2d. Piece of II s. VId. a 3d.
Piece of a Shilling; a 4th VId. and of fmaller Money, a Penny of the Double Rofe, not
Sterling but bafe; a Half-Penny of the Single Rofe; and a Farthing with a Portclofe.
Alſo in 34 H. 8. there were coined Teftons of 12 d. but not called Shillings, 13 d. ob.
9d. and 4d. ob. were all Pieces that came from Scotland in the Reign of Jac. 1.
(though fome of them were coined in England) and therefore I meddle not with
them.
Teltons. Or, as we commonly call them, Testors, from a Head that was upon
them, were coined (as is before faid) 34 H. 8. Sir H. Spelman fays, they are a French
Coin, of the value of 18 d. and he does not know, but they might have gone for as
much in England. He fays it was Brafs, and covered over with Silver, and went in
but 1 Ed. 6. it was brought down to 9 d. and then to 6 d. (which
and in Ann. 1559 to 4 d. ob.
H. 8. Days for 12 d.
ftill retains the Name)
I
Stow fays there was a fecond fort
of Teſtons, which in 1559 was cried down to 2 d. q. And a third fort that was made
unpaffable at any Rate. It is certain there were very good ones coined in E. 6. Time;
and they have ftill continued under all Princes, under the fame Name, and are the uſe-
fulleft Pieces we have.
G20ats. See of them, under a Penny. Groffus fignifies great; and a Groat was a
great Piece with refpect to a Penny, which was but a 4th Part, and the greateſt Piece
(in all likelihood) then coined.
Three-Pence. No mention made of them, till 1561, when Queen Elizabeth
coined them, with 6 d. 4 d. 2 d. 1 d. 1 ob. and ob. q. Pieces, and called in all the baſe
Money in the Kingdom; and fet our Coin upon that noble Foot on which it now
ftands; which, becauſe it was of the greateſt Benefit to the Nation, is one of the
greateſt Glories of her Reign; for thoſe are the trueſt and moſt laſting Honours, that
are built upon the Publick Good, procured or preſerved by Princes.
Penny, Denarius, was the first coined Piece of Silver we have notice of, and, for
many Years the only one; in H. 1. Days it is certain there were Half-Pence; and
9 Ed. 3. cap. 3. it is enacted, That no Sterling (i. e. Penny) Half-Penny, nor Far-
thing, fhould be melted down by the Goldſmiths; which is a good Proof, that there
were, at that time (which was Ann. 1335) no other Pieces of Silver coined. And
H. 4. it was enacted, That one Third of the Silver coined, fhould be coined into
Half-Pence, and Farthings. A Penny was indeed fo much the Whole of the currant
4
1
Coin
392
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
Coin of the Kingdom, that Denarius was the fame thing with Nummus, or Money :
And therefore Simeon Dunelm. 1126, fays, the Men that were found to have made
falſe Money, i. e. Denarii not of pure Silver, were hanged. And (when it is any de-
termined Summ that is fpoken of) Nummus does generally fignifie a Penny, So M.
Weſtm. Ann. 1095, fays, that though there were more than 300000 Men marching to
the Holy Land, yet Provifion was fo plentiful, that a Ram was fold at a Penny (uno
Nummo) and an Ox at (12 Nummis) 12 d. Dr. Hicks (in his Differtatio Epiftolaris,
p. 109.) fays, that the Anglo-Saxons had but one Silver Coin among them, and that
was a Penny. So fays Mr. Cambden, Sir H. Spelman, and moſt of our good Antiqua-
ries. And therefore when we find the honeft and induſtrious Mr. Speed, in his Chro-
nicle, gives us the Three-Pences of fo many Saxon Kings, from Cheuline and Egbert,
Ann. 562, down to Ed. the Confeffor, the Two-Pence of Harold; and again, the
Three-Pences of W, Con. W. 2. H. 1. Stephen, H. 2. John, H. 3. and a Two-Pence
of R. 1. and that from the Treafury of that noble Antiquary Sir R. Cotton; we crave
leave (for many Reaſons) to think him miſtaken; fince in our Hiftories we find no men-
tion of any fuch Pieces as Three-Pences, before the beginning of Eliz. The Prefent
State of England (which is an excellent Book, and to whofe Perfection every One
ſhould contribute, becauſe it gives an Account of all our Affairs, both to Foreigners, and
Natives) is alfo to be corrected in this Particular, when it fays, that in Ed. I. time 4 d.
3d. and 2d. were coined, which certainly is not true. But all the Obfervations I ſhall
make on the Penny, will be beftowed, in fome few Notes, upon a Paffage, which I
have tranſcribed from Mr. Stow in the Year 1279, as follows.
"Whereas, before this time, the Penny was wont to have a double Crofs with a
Creft, in fuch fort that the fame might be eafily broken in the midft, or into four
ic quarters, and fo to be made into Half-Pence, or Farthings; which Order was taken
" in the Year of Chrift 1106, the 7 H. 1. It was now (a) ordained, that Pence, Half-
"Pence, and Farthings, fhould be made Round; whereupon were made thefe Verfes
"following.
cc
<<
« Edward did fmite Round, Penny, Half-Penny, Farthing,
<c
The Croſſe paſſes the bond of all, throughout the Ring :
"The Kings fide, was his Head and his Name written (b)
"The Croffe fide, what City it was in coyned and fmitten.
"To Poor man, ne to Priest, the Penny frayfes nothing,
"Men give God, ay, the leaft; they feaft him with a farthing.
« A thouſand, two hundred, fourſcore years, and mo,
"On this Money men wondred, when it firft began to goe.
"And befides theſe Moneys, there was coined Groats (c) containing 4 d. the Piece
(for what follows, he quotes Regiftr. of Bury) the Pound of Efterling Money, at this
time, containing 12 Ounces; to wit, fine Silver (fuch as Men make into Foyle or
Leaves, and is commonly called Silver of Gutherom Lane) 11 Ounces, 2 Efterlings
(d) and one Ferling (e) and the other 17 d. ob. q. to be Allay. Alfo the Pound ought
re to weigh of Money XX s. and III d. by Accompt: fo that no Pound ought to be
"above 20 s. 4 d. nor less than 20 s. 2 d. by Accompt. The Ounce is to weigh 20d.
"the Penny to weigh 24 Grains (ƒ)."
Thus far Mr. Stow; to which let me add to the Paffages that are marked, as follows.
(a) It ſhould ſeem by theſe Words, that Pence and Half-Pence were not Round,
before this Year 1279, but they were certainly Round in H. 1. time. For in 1108,
Sim. Dunelm fays, the King appointed the Pence and Half-Pence should be all Round.
And in 1180, Philip Aymary of Tours was fent for, to new coin the Money;
which
was
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
393
was done, and made all Round, as faith Radulf de Diceto. But, it may be, that Ed. 1.
was the firſt that appointed Farthings fhould be coined (like Pence and Half-Pence)
Round. Tho. Walfingham 1280. and H. Knyghton, p. 2678, agree with M. Weftm. in
1279, to ſay the fame thing; that becauſe the Penny was broken in half, to make two
Oboli, and the Oboli again broken in halves, to make four Quadrantes or Farthings,
it was ordained to coin the Oboli, and Quadrantes, Round; fo that the Opportunity of
cutting from each Ob. or Quadr. was taken away. And yet the fame T. Walfingham in
1278, repreſents Matters as if the Obolus had been diftinctly coined, before this, in the
Shape of a Semicircle. Obolus qui prius formam habebat Semicirculi, tanquam pars De-
narii in medio divifi, fit rotundus. Whereas, in truth, whenever it was in this Shape,
it was certainly one half of a Penny, broken in ſunder.
(b) Name written. The Name of the King was indeed written, whether Will.
Henricus, Ricardus, or Edvardus: But no Body, from thence, can tell whether it
were W.1. or II. Hen. I, II, III, IV, V, VI, or Ed. I, II, III, IV, and, as far as I could
ever find, H. VII. was the firſt that was to be certainly known by that Diſtinction,
whoſe Name I have ſeen marked on a Silver Groat, Henric. VII. But in this I
be miſtaken, having not feen all Coins, and yet enow to venture this Remark.
may
(c) Groats. This is the firſt time, that I have feen Groats mentioned to be
coined, in 1279. And though I never fufpect Mr. Stow's Faithfulneſs, or Induſtry,
yet I believe he was here miſtaken; as well, becauſe in 9 E. 3. no mention is made of
them, when Pence and Half-Pence are forbidden to be melted by the Goldſmith, fince
the fame Reaſon would have forbidden the melting down Groats (as afterwards was
done 17 R. 2.) which forbad the melting the others; as alſo becauſe that Coin appears
not in Mr. Lowndes's Accounts, before the 27 E. 3. which was in 1353, though Tho.
Walfingham mentions them in 1351, but he ſeems not to have known there were ever
any fuch Pieces before that Year: For in that Year, he fays, that, William Edington
Biſhop of Winton, and Lord Treaſurer, a Man of great Prudence, but one who con-
fulted more the King's Profit, than that of the Kingdom, found out, and coined new Pieces;
i. e. Groffum et dimidium Groffi. Groats and Half-Groats, but of less weight than
they ought to have been. i. e. I fuppofe, they weighed not as much as four Pennies.
After this, we meet with the Name often, and moſt commonly applied to 4 d. though
(as I think) fometimes to more than 4d. You may alſo ſee that 2 d. was not called by
the name Two-Pence, but a Half-Groat, or Half-Groz. And in 19 H.
7. Half-
Groats are called Pence of Two-Pence. H. Knyghton mentions Groffa in 1378, and fays
it was 4d. and fo much was given to the King for every Man and Woman.
(d) Efterlings. Here Sterling fignifies a Penny-weight, becauſe it fignifies a Penny
of fine Silver, which is now called Standard. And I have never, but once, ſeen
Sterling (when it fignifies a Piece of Money) ſtand for any thing but a Penny, and
that is, in Monafticon Angl. 2 Vol. p. 471, where it fignifies a Half-Penny: For there
it is faid, that Hens were a Sterling a-piece; not in exprefs Words, but by Confe-
quence; for it is there ſaid, that Wheat was 2 s. the Quarter; and that the 6th Part of
a Buſhel of Wheat was valued at a Sterling; now the Bufhel is valued at 3d. (when
the Quarter is at 2 s.) and the 6th Part of 3 d. is a Half-Penny; and fo Sterling must be
there a Half-Penny. This was occafioned by Ed. 1. calling in Pollards, Crocards, or
Cocodones, and Rofaries; all which were coined, and brought into England by Foreigners,
and underhand went for Sterlings, (i. e. for Pence,) but in the Year 1301, were fuf-
fered to go but for Oboli, or Half-Pence; and that not long neither: for at Chriftmass
they were called in, and made Oboli; and at Eafter following they were cried down
quite: But Corruptions are not fo eafily parted with; they went currant among the
People longer, and retained ſtill the name of Sterlings, though they went for but Half-
Pence. H. Knyghton, p. 2493.
3 E
(e) Ferling,
394
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
(e) Ferling, is a Farthing, or the 4th Part of a Sterling.
(ƒ) The Penny-weight is here faid to contain 24 Grains; and ſo it does to this Day.
Yet Tho. Rudborn, in Hift. Maj. Winton. Anglia Sacra, Vol. I. p. 257. fays it was de-
termined by W. Conq. 1083, that a Penny Sterling, round and unclipped, was to
weigh 32 Grains. However, we are fure it was fo determined by Act of Parliament,
51 H. 3. and ſo again, 12 H. 7. That every Sterling ſhall weigh 32 Grains of Wheat,
that grew in the midst of the Ear of Wheat; and a Standard for the King's Treaſury is
to be made according to this Affize. To reconcile this Difference, it is probable, that
24 Grains, as they are Weights to weigh by, may be truly as heavy, as 32 Grains of
Wheat; which is as much as the Acts of Parliament require; and it would have been
troubleſome, to have made a Braſs Weight, no heavier than the 32ª Part of a Penny.
Obolus. Signifies an Half-Penny, or (as you have feen before) the half of any
Thing. And as Denariatus Terræ fignifies a Perch of Land (or let it be
Meaſure, or Quantity) fo Obolatus Terræ fignifies half that Land; and a Farthing
(called alfo Fardella, Fardingdela, Farundel, and other Names, which you may fee
in H. Spelman's Gloſſ.) fignifies a quarter of it. So Acra, an Acre of Land, contains
(like a Mark in Money) 160 Den. 320 Ob. and 640 Quadrantes. I cannot find,
when Obolus, Half-Penny, was firft coined: but we may imagine it was coined, as
be
early as ever we can find it mentioned,becauſe it is not a Denomination, which may
anſwered by other Money (as a Pound by 20s. if there had been any Shillings, or a
Mark, by 13s. 4d. or a Shilling by 12 Pence) but it muſt be a diſtinct coined Piece.
And fo for
any
other
Ferlingus, or Farthing. I fhall make an end when I have obferved to you, that
when you meet, in old Donations, with fuch words as Librata Terra, Marcata, Soli-
data, or Denariata, and the like, you are to underſtand as much Land as will yield
the Rent of a Pound, a Mark, a Shilling, or a Penny, by the Year.
Here follows a TABLE, by which you will perceive into how many Shillings,
a Pound-weight of Silver has, at feveral times, been coined; together with its
Allay, and what the Ounce was worth in common Eſtimation.
Years.
Finen. Allay.
Shillings.
oz. dw. oz. dw.
S.
d. l.
The Ounce
worth.
s. d.
28
E. I.
II 2
18 xx
1110 1 81
20
E. 3.
II 2
18 XXII
VIO I 101
And thus it
continued all
the Reign of
E. 3. R. 2. H.
27
E. 3.
II 2
O
18 XXV
9
H. 5.
II 2
18 XXX
4, till 9 H. 5.
1 H. 6.
II 2
4 H. 6.
II 2
O
O
18 XXXVII
18 XXX
24 H. 6.
II 2
18 XXX
O
O
2 I
02 6
VIO 3 I
2 6
26
Fabian fays, 23 E. 3. that he coined Groats and Half-Groats that wanted 2s. 6d.
of the Old Standard, in a Pound Troy. This was in 1349, or 1350, but it is a Year,
or two, too foon.
Years.
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
395
Years.
Finen. Allay.
Shillings.
The Ounce
worth.
oz. dw. oz. dw.
S.
d. l. s. d.
49 (39) H. 6. | 11
II 2
18 XXXVII VI
VIO 3 1/24/1
5, 8, 11;
16,
24.
E. 4.
II 2
18 XXXVIL
VI O
3 1/1/1/0
I R.
-
1
R. 3.
9 H. 7.
1 H. 8.
34 Н. 8.
10 O 2
I-I
2
18 XXXXV
0 39
O XXXXVIII
o
4 0
36 H. 8.
60 6
O XXXXVIII
4 0
In reality fine Silver, 45 94.
half-penny the Ounce.
In reality to 8 s. the Ounce.
37 H. 8.
I E.
E. 6.
4
4 0 8
Q8
O XXXXVIII
0 4 0
In reality to 125. the Ounce.
Q XXXXVIII
0 4 0
In reality to 12s. the Ounce.
3 E. 6.
60 6
OLXXII
o 6 o
In reality to 12 s. the Ounce.
5
E. 6.
3
9
OLXXIF
o 6 o
In reality to.17.45. theOunce
6 E. 6.
II I
19 LX
5 0
Q. Mary
II a
I
OLX.
5.
0
2 Eliz.
II 2
18 LX
O. 5 0
19 Eliz.
II 2
18 LX
5 0
43 Eliz.
II 2
18 LXII
a
5 2
Jac. I.
Car. I.
Car. 2.
Jac. 2.
II 2
18 LXII
• 5
5 2
W. and M
Q. Anne.
I cannot leave this Head, till I have taken notice of one or two Specialties relating to
Coin. The firſt is, that when Sir Rob. Cotton was called to deliver his Opinion, touch-
ing the Alteration of the Coin, before the Lords of the Privy-Council in 2 Car, I. he lays
great
3
396
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
great load on the Reign of H. VI. for miſmanagement of this Affair of Money, as if
it had fuffered ſome extraordinary Debaſement in his Time, and done him great Dif-
honour, and great Miſchief in the Minds of his Subjects, and afforded his Rival (Rich.
Duke of York) an Occaſion of high Complaint. And that when my Lord Treaſurer
Burleigh, and Sir Thomas Smith, were called upon by Queen Elizabeth, to deliver their
Opinions about the change of Money, they adviſed her to reduce the Standard to the
ancient Parity and Purity of her Great-Grand-Father King Edward IV. Upon this,
I cannot but obſerve, that H. V. in the 9th of his Reign (according to Mr. Lowndes's
Accounts) had raiſed the Money to XXXs. the Pound; and that H. VI. in the firſt of
his Reign, advanced it to XXXVII s. VId. but keeping ftill to the Old Standard of
Fineneſs (without a change of which, all other Changes feem to be but merely nomi-
nal; for 37 s. and 6 d. will buy no more Wheat, than 30 s. will do, when once People
come to know there is no more fine Silver in 37 s. 6d. than in 30 s.) but even this
Change continued not long; for 2 H. VI. c. 13, upon Complaint made in Parliament,
that there was a ſcarcity of white Money, by reaſon that Silver uncoined was bought
and fold at XXXIIs. the Pound Troy; whereas it was of no more value, when coined,
than XXXIIs. (12 d. abated for the Coinage) it was enacted that none ſhould buy or
fell
any Silver uncoined for above XXX s. the Pound Troy, befides the Faſhion. I will
not anſwer for the Reaſonableneſs of this Act; but it proves clearly that the Pound did
not long contain 37s. 6d. and it appears evidently, that 4 H. VI. it came again to
XXX s. and fo continued to the very laſt Year of his Reign, when it was again ad-
vanced to 37 s. 6 d. and ſo continued for near fifty Years. So that the greateſt Debaſe-
ment of King H. VI. was juſt equal to, and indeed the fame with, the Parity, and
Purity of King Edward IV.
The greateſt Debaſement of Money, is the greateſt Allay, or Mixture of bafer Metal
with Silver (and that is only bad, becauſe People are deceived by its looks, and know
not how much fine Silver there is in fuch or fuch a Piece) and that was in 5 Ed. VI.
when 9 Ounces of Allay were added to 3 Ounces of fine Silver, and coined into 72
Shillings; ſo that a Pound of fine Silver, at that rate of Mixture, was coined into 288 s.
or 141. 8 s. ood. and the Ounce into 24s. which was intolerable; and when in the
Year following, this Bafe Money was called down, the People fuffered extremely by it.
I have by me, now, an Account of that Time, wherein, by the firft Proclamation
(dated July 9.) a College loft (out of an 118. 6s. 11 d.) 29. 11s. 8d. ob. q. And
by the Second Proclamation (dated Aug. 17. immediately following) out of 45%. 35.
the College loft 157. 1s. which was a 4th and a 3d Part of every One's Cafh, in the
Space of two Months. It will be much for the Honour of the late Reign, to have re-
medied the greateſt Abuſe of Money, that was ever known in England, at a time of
the greateſt Danger and Expence, with very little Grievance of the People. But, fure,
it is better to prevent a moderate Miſchief, than redreſs a very great one; and, perhaps,
a Proclamation of three or four Lines, forbidding any clipped Money to be received into
the King's Exchequer, in 1690, would have prevented the clipping and ſpoiling five
Millions. The fecond Thing I would obferve, is, That an Hiftorian who lived in the
Days of H. VI. and Ed. IV. tells us, that ſuch was the Enmity of the Houſe of York,
to that of Lancaster, that when Ed. IV. came to the Crown, not only all that was
given and gotten, under the three foregoing Reigns of H. IV, V, VI. was taken away;
but that the Money alfo, as well Gold, as Silver, was changed and coined a-new, that
the Name of Henry might be no more remembred. Sed & Moneta tam in Auro, quam
Argento, ut Nomen in ea prorfus deleatur Henrici, fimiliter mutata eft, & denuo fabri-
cata. Continuatio Hift. Croyland, An. 1461. But Time hath made all even again, and
left us as many Coins of the Henry's, as of Edward the IVth,
3
The
CHRONICON PRECIOSU M
397
The laſt Thing I would obferve to you is, That though (as you fee in the Table)
the Pound was fometimes 22s. 6d. 25s. 30s. 37s. 6d. 45s. 48s. 72s. 60s. and
62s. as it now ftands. Yet, in Accompts, it always fignified 20s. juft, and neither
more nor leſs. When the Pound contained (for Example) 30s. he who owed ano-
ther Man Five Pounds, did not pay him 150s. but an 100. And it is as certain that
an roos. fignified five Pounds at that time, and no lefs, as it does now. This muſt
have been ever fince XXs. came to weigh, and to be called, a Pound. And fo it was
with the Saxon Pound, that was always 48 s. And he who owed five Pounds, before
the Norman Times, did certainly pay 240s. which was, both in Weight and Denomi-
nation, five Pounds: Whereas five Pounds are now only fo in Name, and not in Weight.
Let me end this Chapter, with giving you the Names (from Mr. Cambden) of ſeveral
falſe and ſmall Pieces, that were heretofore in uſe among our Fathers. In the Time of
E. III. Crocards, Pollards, Rofaries, Cocadones, Stepings, and Staldings, were cried
down. Gally-Half-Pence, which were brought hither by the Genoefe Gallies, cried
down by H. IV. Sufkins and Dodkins by H. V. and Blanks by H. VI. There were
alfo little Pieces coined by H. VII. called Dandypratts, which, I fuppofe, were little
and contemptible Things, becauſe that Word has fince been uſed to fignifie fmall and
worthlefs People,
CHAP.
İV.
Of the Price of Corn, and other Commodities, for fix hundred Years
H
laft paft.
AVING difpatched, with what exactneſs I could, the Chap-
ters of Moneys, I am now come to ſpeak to the Price of Corn
and other Commodities; which is (whether you know it, or not) the
readieft way to the Solution of your Third, and moſt material Queſtion.
For, your Buſineſs is to know (as near as you can) what Eſtate or Summ
of Money will now-a-days be equal, or equivalent to five Pounds (let
that be the ſuppoſed Summ in this Difcourfe) in the Reign of H. VI.
and to this End, your Care will be, to find out how much Meat,
Drink, or Cloth, might be purchaſed in H. VI. Reign, with V I. and
then to find out, how much of the Money now current, will be re-
quired to purchaſe the fame quantity of Meat, Drink, and Cloth. For,
fince Money is of no other ufe, than as it is the Thing with which we
purchaſe the Neceffaries and Conveniencies of Life, it is evident, that if
V l. in H. VI. Days, would purchaſe five Quarter of Wheat, four Hogf-
heads of Beer, and fix Yards of Cloth, he who then had VI. in his
Pocket, was full as rich a Man, as he who has now XXI. if with that
XXI. he can purchaſe no more Wheat, Beer, or Cloth, than the other.
I do not mean hereby to pre-judge this to be the Proportion; but uſe
this Inſtance to let you fee, that this is the propereft way of coming to
know, what Eſtate is now moſt anſwerable to an Eſtate of Vl. per
Ann. two hundred and fifty Years ago. And though the comparing the
Reign of H. VI. with your own Times, would be fufficient for your
particular Purpoſe; yet fince I have made the fame Collections, for the
Years foregoing, and for thoſe which follow the Reign of H. VI. it
will be (I believe) neither ungrateful nor unprofitable, to give them to
the Reader; eſpecially fince other Colleges, which may be under the
3 F
like
398
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
like Obligations, were founded, fome before, and fome fince, the Reign |
of H. VI. It will be moft for the Reader's Uſe, and Eafe, that I fet
down the Particulars in Order of Time; and if he fhall chance to judge
many of them to be trivial (as fome perhaps may judge them all to be)
as ſtanding by themſelves, I defire him to confider, that, in conjunction
with the reſt, they may be of fome Moment; and that others may
like to ſee thoſe very Particulars which he fo little eſteems. As to the
Year of our Lord, (into which I change the Years of the Kings Reigns)
I will not pretend to be moſt exact; as well becauſe I think it not
much to the Purpoſe to be fo, as alſo becauſe each Year of a King's
Reign, does unavoidably fall into two Years of our Lord, and if I hit
either of them, or come very near them, it anfwers Intention.
my
In King Ina's Laws, which were made betwixt 712, and 727, it is
faid, Ovis cum Agno fuo valet unum Solidum, ufque ad XIII Noctes poft
Pafcha. A Ewe, with her Lamb, is worth one Shilling, till thirteen
Nights after Eafter. Brompton, Chr. 766. but instead of thirteen, it
ſhould be fourteen, as it is in the Saxon of Mr. Lambard.
Between the Years 900, and 1000, Ednoth bought two Hides of
Land at Stapleford (in Bedfordſhire) for C Shillings of the beſt Silver,
and gave them to Ramfey Abby. D. Gale's Hift. Ramf. 415. and
p. 471. Hift. Elienf. a Palfry was at Xs. which was about the Year
966. And p. 473, an Acre of Land was purchaſed at Is. and a Hyde
at C. s. from whence one might think, that a Hyde contained 100)
Acres, but it contained 120 Acres. And, once for all, you will do
well to remember, that a Hyde, a Yard-Land, and a Knight's Fee, con-
tains no certain Number of Acres, but differs according to different
Places; as you may fee in the Gloffaries.
In the Senatus Confulta de Monticolis, in the Time of King Ethelred,
about the Year 1000, if a Horfe be loft, the Compenſation muſt be 30s.
A Mare, or Colt of a Year old, 20s. A Mule or young Afs at 12s.
An Ox at 30 d. A Cow 24d. A Swine 8d. A Man 17. A Sheep
I S. A Goat at IId. Note, That this is Saxon Money, 5d. to the
Shilling. and 48s. to the Pound. Whelock, p. 96.
In 1043, Chron. Saxon. Corn was ſo dear, as no One ever remem-
bred it; infomuch that a Sefter of Wheat was fold for LXd. H. of
Huntingdon explains this Sextarius, by faying it was as much as would
load a Horfe; and fo does Rob. de Monte, in 1041. and both of them
fay it was fold for V Sol. And both of them lived about the Year 1140.
A Seſter or Sextarius was what we now call a Quarter, or a Seam,
containing eight Bufhels. So Sir H. Spelman. And in Confirmation of
it, cites Huntingdon, L. 6. Circa hoc tempus (fcil. Ed. Confeff.) tanta
fames Angliam invafit, quod Sextarius Frumenti, qui Equo uni folet effe
oneri, venundaretur VSolidis, & etiam plus. Theſe two Authors that
wrote in Latin, and lived an hundred Years after, in the Norman Times,
tranflated LXd. into V Sol. becauſe in their Days the Shilling con-
tained 12 d. But in the Saxon Times, i. e. when this Famine or Scar-
city happened, 1043, the Shilling contained but 5d, fo that LX d. with
the Saxons was XII Sol. So the Fragment of Elfric Grammaticus
(cited by Mr. Somner) who died, as Mr. Wharton thinks, in Ann. 1051,
Anglia Sacr. P. I. Libra on Leden is Pund on Engliſc, Fif Penegas
gemacigath ænne Scillinge. & XXX Penega ænne Mancs, i, e. Libra in
1
3
Latin
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
399
Latin is a Pound in Engliſh. Five Pennies make one Schilling, and 30
Pennies a Mark. A Mark was therefore VI Sol, as I have before ob-
ferved, becauſe there are 6 times 5 in 30.
And it will not be amifs, to hint to you, on this Occafion, the Ne-
ceffity there is of remembring how near your Author lived to the
Times he writes of; becauſe moft Men are apt to ſpeak of Ages paſt,
according to the Ways and Cuſtoms of their own. Thus, in the Laws
of King Athelstan, as they are tranflated by John Brompton (inter X
Scriptores) pag. 847. an Offender is to forfeit for his firft Fault, XXXd.
for his fecond, LX. and for his third, Xs. Now this could not poffi-
bly be in King Athelstan's Time, when LXd. made XIIs. but in John
Brompton's Timė, (who lived under Edw. III.) Xs. was double (as it
ſtill is) to LX d. and was a treble Mulet for a third Offence, as Reafon
required. And thus in L. 59, of King Ina, He who wounds or
maims the Horn of an Ox, is to pay Xd. [Brompton¸ſays V d.] of a
Cow, 2d. [B. fays V d.] Who cuts off the Tail of an Ox, is to pay
IV d. [B. fays V d.] of a Cow, V d. Who puts out the Eye of an Ox,
is to pay V d. of a Cow, Is. [Brompton fays 12 d.] Now, though a
Shilling in Brompton's Time had in it 12 d. yet in Ina's Time, it had
but 5d. I could give you many Inftances of this Nature, if it were
uſeful; but theſe (which are not alien from my Deſign) may fuffice to
juſtifie the Caution I gave you, of minding your Author's Age. But,
leaving you to take part, either with my Conjectures, or with the two
above-named Authors, Rob. de Monte, and H. Huntingdon. I fet down.
the Price of a Quarter of Wheat, in 1043, at
In 1125, a Sextar or Quarter of Wheat, at
So fay Annales de Margin (put out by Dr. Gale) there was fo great a
Famine. But H. Huntington in the fame Year fays, p. 382. Vendebatur
Onus equi frumentarium, VIs. And Rob. de Monte, in the fame Year,
fays it was the dearest Year in England, that was ever known; for a
Horfe-load of Wheat was fold at VI Sol. This, upon the Credit of
theſe two Writers, feems more likely, than the Price fet by the An-
nalist, of 20s.
If the Liber niger Schaccarii, were written in the Time of H. I. as
fome affirm, it ought to be noted down, in the next place, (fince he
began 1100, and ended 1135.)
1. Pro Menfura Tritici ad Panem Centum Hominum.
2. Pro Corpore Bovis Pafcualis.
S.
d.
OO
60
ΟΙ
00
00
OI OO
ΟΙ Oo
Pro Præbenda XX Equorum.
3.
Pro Ariete vel Ove.
1. This was the Exchange made by the King; that inftead of Pro-
vifions for his Houfhold, he might have fome ready Money to defray the
Expences of his Court, and pay his Soldiers. Inftead, therefore, of
Bread for a hundred Men (for one Meal, I fuppofe) the Tenant was
to pay a Shilling.
2. Inſtead of a ſtalled Ox, the Tenant was to pay a Shilling. Mr. Sel-
den, in his Notes on Eadmer, fays it was five Shillings. But Sir H.
Spelman (in v. Firma) who faw the Book, and tranſcribed this Paffage,
puts it down Solidum unum; and him I follow. He fays, it is a Book
on which the Sun does feldom fhine; meaning, that it is rarely feen
and hard to come at. He had the Opportunity of tranferibing many
оо 04
QQ
04
Pieces
400
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
Pieces of it, which he has given, in ſeveral places of his Gloſſary; and
fo has Mr. Lowndes tranfcribed a good deal of it, in his Eſſay. But
this is all that I could find to my preſent Purpoſe.
3. By Provender for Horfes is always meant Oats. And inftead of
bringing Oats for XX Horfes (for a Night, I imagine) the Tenant was
to allow 4 Pence.
In the Laws of H. I. cap. 76. Forty Sheep are valued at
About the Year 1145. the Tenant of a Place was to pay yearly XX s.
or VII Oxen, each worth III s. M. Paris, p. 1013.
In 1185. The Tenants of Shireborn, are by Cuftom, to pay either
2d. or 4 Hens, which they will. And by the Cuſtom of Beleſhall,
they are to have a Ram, or VIIId. (and in the Preface to King Athel-
ftan's Laws, a Ram was at 4d. Vel unus Aries, qui valeat IIII Dena-
rios) Monaft. Vol. II. p. 528.
In 1196. So great a fcarcity of Corn that, at Salisbury, a Sema of
Wheat was fold at
In 1197. A Sema of Wheat (i. e. a Quarter) at
Tho. Wikes, Chron. D. Gale (to whom we are obliged for the Edition
of this, and other Hiftorians) put his Note under the word Sema qua-
tuor modios. Which, furely, is not fo; for Sema is a Quarter, or 8
Bufhel. And fo Sir H. Spelman, Seam VIII modiorum menfura; fic de
Frumento dictum, quod unius Equi fit Sauma, i. e. Sarcina. So that
with him, a Quarter of Wheat is a Horfe-load. And, doubtlefs, a
Quarter is a quarter or fourth Part of fome Load or Weight; for fo
quarta, quartalis, and quartalium, fignifies a Peck or the fourth Part
of a Bufhel and a Quart is the fourth Part of a Gallon.
In 1199. King John ordered that a Tun of Poitou-Wine, fhould
be fold for no more than
A Tun of Anjou-Wine at
No French Wine above
Unleſs ſo very good, that One would be glad to give, per Tun
No Sextarium, of Poitou-Wine, to be fold above
Nor any White, dearer than
But the Merchants could not bear this Afife, and fold the Red for
6 d. and the White for 8 d. the Gallon. And the Land (as the Hifto-
rian obferves) was filled with Drink and Drunkards. Annales Burto-
nenfes. Ann. 1199. Mr. Stow mentions no Meaſure, but a Gallon,
for Sextarius. And Sir H. Spelman fays, that at Paris, a Modius Vini
holds 36 Sextarios, and that a Sextar is 8 Pints. At this rate Tonellus
Vini will hold but about 60 Gallons, which is the neareſt to our
Hogfbead. Mr. Stow calls the Poitou Wine, Wine of Rochel: And
for the French Wine he ſays the Affife was 11. 6s. 4d. by the Tun.
And fays, p. 165. that they who fold by the Tun, Hogfhead, or other-
wife, contrary to this Affife, were to be puniſhed. But, if we are to
underſtand in this place, a Tun of English Meaſure (which is 252 Gal-
lons) by the word Tonellus, then cannot a Gallon of Poitou Wine,
come to 4 d. no, nor to 1 d. fince in XXs. there are but 240d. I fuf-
pect that Sextarius is more than a Gallon: for I do not think, that fo
long ago as 1199, Red Wine at 1d. ob. and White at 2 d. the Quart,
would have filled the Land either with Drink or Drunkards; efpecially
when Anjou, and Poitou were in the Engliſh Hands; it muſt be cheaper
I
1.
ΟΙ
S.
d.
00 00
oo
13 04
18 08
OI OO
ΟΙ 04
ΟΙ
05
ΟΙ 06 08
Oo GO
00
04
oo 06 ·
much,
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM
401
much, to make that Obfervation good. And though the Rochel Hog-i
fhead be but 46 Gallons, yet it will not do.
In 1202. So great a Scarcity (occafioned by continual Rains) that a 1.
Quarter of Wheat was fold for more than (Annales Waverl.)
In 1205.
There was fo great a Froft, laſting from January 14. to
March 19. that Wheat was at (M. Paris.) the Quarter.
Mr. Stor fays the Ground was fo hard, that it could not be tilled,
and a Quarter of Wheat was fold the Summer following for a Marc;
which in H. II. Days, had ufually been at Is. Beans and Peafe, by the
Quarter 6s. 8d. And Oats, that were wont to be at 4 d. the Quarter,
were now at 3 s. 4 d. Fabian puts Wheat, now, at 15s.
In or about 1217,
rius of St. Albans loft
when the King came to Redbourn, the Camera-
three good Horfes, two Affes, and a good new
Cart: all which were worth, at leaſt, 50s.
When Fulco de Brent came to Langley, the Camerarius loſt three
Houſes, that were burnt, and 35 Hogs, which all came to at leaſt XI.
and a Plow that coft Xs. (which is a miſtake for Xd.) And when
the King of France's Marechal came, he loſt many Oxen, Cows, Sheep,
and other Things, and 24 Horfes, valued, at leaſt, at 40 Marks, i. e.
261. 135. 4d. M. Paris, p. 1059. The Camerarius was the Re-
ceiver of the Rents, and who provided Clothes for the Monks.
In 1223. Wheat was very dear, and fold per Quarter, at (Stow, in
7. H. III.)
About 1232. The Abbot of St. Albans, going a Journey, and at-
tended with fix Efquires on Horſeback, agrees, that if the Horſes die
on the Way, he will give for each Horfe Xs. and the Horfes are to be
ftrong and handfom; decentes, & fortes ad portandum. M. Paris,
p. 1051.
In 1237.
Wheat was by the Quarter,
Barly,
Oats,
Antiq. Peterborough, p. 304. Where I muſt obferve, that I reduce
all Meaſures to a Quarter, for Uniformity's fake. Here I meet with
the Word Sceppe, which the Gloffaries forget; but it fignifies a Bufhel,
as appears by caſting up the Summ here mentioned, where XXVIII
Quarter, and one Sceppe of Wheat are valued at 41. 13 s. 9d. which is
juſt 5d. the Bushel.
If you chance to meet with any young Companions of yours, who
flight theſe ſort of Studies, you may acquaint them, that the preſent
excellent, moſt learned, and moſt uſeful Biſhop of Ely, put out, with
no ſmall Labour of his own, the Antiquities, out of which I have told
you, what Price Wheat, and Barly, and Oats bear, in or about. 1237.
Or (as Dr. Kennet) 1240.
In 1243, and 1244. Corn fo plentiful, that Wheat, and Peaſe were
each of them by the Quarter (M. Paris in Annis.).
In 1246. A Quarter of Wheat (fo dear) at (Tho. Wikes.)
S.
I 2
00 12
00 12
d.
00
00
Oo
03
02
04
OO OI
OO
Oo
02
16
OO
In 1247. A Quarter of Wheat (ſtill dear) at (Tho. Wikes.)
In 1257. A Quarter of Wheat (exceffively dear) at (Fabian)
In 1258. So great a Famine, that many People were ftarved, fo that
a Quarter of Wheat was fold at
13 04
01 04
16
8 8
3 G
So
402
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
So Walter Hemingford. Which makes me fufpect, that Fabian
was miſtaken in his Accounts of the foregoing Year, which make
Wheat one third dearer. Mr. Stow fays, it was XVs. nay XXs. the
Quarter.
In 1270. Wheat was fo dear, that it was fold at, the Quarter
And ſometimes at 16s. the Bufhel, which makes it at 67. 8s.
So the Author of Antiq. Britan. in Vita Joh. Pecham, who fays
that Proviſions were ſo ſcarce, that Parents did eat their own Children.
But, I hope, we need not believe him; it is only an Expreffion of the
greateſt Want imaginable.
In 1286. Wheat was at, the Quarter,
But fuch a Storm of Rain, Thunder, and Lightning, fell on St.
Margaret's Night, that Wheat came by degrees to, the Quarter
And this Dearneſs continued off and on for about forty Years, fo
that ſometimes it was fold at London for 41. the Quarter. H. Knyghton,
P. 2468.
In 1287. Wheat was fo cheap, that it was fold at, the Quarter,
In 1288. So great the plenty of Corn, and ſcarcity of Money, that
Wheat was fold, by the Quarter, at
The Waverly Annals fay at 2s.
(though the hotteſt Summer that
4d. in other Parts of England, at
So Angl. Sacr. Annales Wigorn.
Mr. Stow fays, that Wheat was fold
was remembred) at London for 3 s.
Is. 8d. and Is. 4d. and Is. nay, in the North, and Weft Parts, at
8 d. the Quarter. Barly at 6d. and Oats at 4d. and Peafe and Beans
And yet Fabian fets it down this Year at 9s. 4d. which
very cheap.
is very dear. But it is eaſie to be miſtaken in fetting down one Year
for another. And therefore when H. Knyghton ſays, that great Dear-
neſs continued off and on, for forty Years, we muſt underſtand him
candidly; for now and then, it was, in that ſpace of Time, exceed-
ingly cheap.
In 1289. Walfingham fays Wheat was fo cheap, that in fome Places
it was fold, the Quarter at 1 s. 8d. in others at Is. 4d. and in others
at Is. which does certainly belong to the Year foregoing. Fabian
makes this a dear Year, and fays Wheat was by the Quarter, at 12s.
and fays it went on increaſing till it came in Ed. II. Time to 2/. the
Quarter.
It may be, Mr. Dugdale's Account, in his Warwickshire Antiq. may
be the more likely, as being between the Extreams, of Walfingham and
Fabian, as follows.
Wheat, the Quarter, at
Rye,
Barly
Beans and Peaſe,
A Swan at
Oats,
A Duck at
Mr. Stow's Account of this Year is, that by reaſon of great Hail, and
Rains, Wheat rofe from 2 s. the Quarter, to Xs. 8d. and, by degrees
came to XXs. the Quarter.
I
1.
16
S. d.
00
4 16
Oo
02
08
00 16 Oo
Oo
03 04
01 06
OO
oo 06 00
Oo 05
Oo
03
02 08
02
03 04
00 QI
In
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
403
S. d.
00 16 00
In 1290.
Tho. Walfingham, and from him the Author of Antiq. Bri-
tan. in Vita. Joh. Pecham, fays, that Wheat, which had been at 2 s. 1.
the Quarter, rofe (by reafon of great Rains and Storms) to
Which Scarcity continued off and
In 1294. Wheat (dear) by the Quarter. (Fabian)
on, for
many Years.
And fometimes XXs. as H. Knyghton.
In 1298. At Scarborough in Yorkshire, the Price of an Ox,
A Cow at
A Heifer at
8888
16
Oo
06 08
05
Oo
02 00
A Sheep at
OQ
ΟΙ
Monafticon, Vol. II. p. 403.
In 1299. This Year, was made an Act of Common-Council, for
Prices of Victuals to be fold at London, by Confent of the King and
Nobility And as to Poultry, it was as follows. Stow.
A fat Cock,
Two Pullets,
A fat Capon,
A Gooſe,
A Mallard,
A Partrich,
A Pheaſant,
A Heron,
A Plover,
A Swan,
A Crane,
Two Woodcocks,
A fat Lamb, from Christmass to Shrovetide,
The fame, for all the Year after,
In 1302. In Dugdale's Hift. of St. Paul's, p. 32. Wheat, by the
Quarter, at
Malt ground, at
Peaſe, at
|
00 01/1/
OO 011/1
Oo
Oo
OO
OO
Oo
02/1
04
00
OI
00 011/
Oo
04-
Oo 06
OO
OO
OO OI
03 OO
OO IO Oo
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00 011
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00
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04
04.
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02 об
Oats, at
A Bull, at
A Cow, at
A fat Mutton, at
An Ewe-Sheep, at
A Capon, at
A Cock or Hen,
In 1309. Will. Thorn (inter X Scriptores) in his Chron. p. 2010.
gives us an Account of the Feaft which Ralf de Born, Prior of St.
Auguftine's Cant. made on his Inſtallation Day: In which it appears
that he paid very great Rates for many Particulars of his Bill of Fare,
confidering the Times. I have given the whole, but computed the
Price of each Particular, that the Reader may fee a little of the Spirit
of that Age, and alſo what Proportion Commodities then bore, to what
they do at this Day. And it will not be amifs to give him the Preface
which William Thorn makes to this Bill of Fare. Becauſe (fays he) the
prefent Times (1380) may not, by any means, be compared with the fore-
going ones, for plenty and abundance of all fort of Things, I have thought
it convenient, to give the following Account of this Feaft, not that Po-
OO 02
Oo 07 04
Oo
Oo
Oo
06
OO
ΟΙ
OO
08
Oo
02
00 01
fterity
404
CHRONICON PRECIOSU M.
fterity might imitate this Coftliness, but rather might admire it. And
thus it was.
Of Wheat, 53 Quarters, Price XIX /. [So that a Quarter came to-00
Of Malt, 58 Quart. Price XVIII. Xs. [A Quarter at
Of Wine, II Tun, Price XXIIII. [A Tun at or about
Oats for the Gueſts, as well within, as without the Gates of the City,
20 Quarter, Price IV I. [So that a Quarter came to
For Spice (pro Speciebus) XXVIII 7.
1. S.
d.
07
02
06
02
03
07/12/
07을
​OQ
04
OO
00
06/1/1
For CCCI. of Wax, Price VIII. [So that a Pound came to near-00
Almonds, D. Price IIII. XVIII s. [So that a Pound came to above-oo
XXX Ox Carcaffes (pro Carcoifis Bóum) Price XXVIII. [Each
came to
Of Hogs, C. Price XVI. [So that each Hog came to about
Of Muttons, [de Multonibus] CC. Price XXXI. [Each came to —
Of Geefe [de Aucis] M. Price XVII. [Each Gooſe about
Of Capons and Hens, D. Price VII. Vs. [Each Fowl came to
Of Pullets, [de Pulonibus] CCCCLXXIII. Price III. XIVs. [Each
Of Pigs, [de Porcellis] CC. Price VI. [Each Pig at
Of Swans, 24. Price VIII.
Of Rabits, 600. Price XVI.
[Each Swan came to
[Each Rabit came to
De Scentis de Braun, 16. Price IIII. Vs. Each Shield of Brawn
(and therefore Mr. Somner gueffes right, that it ſhould be read Scutis)
came to
Of Partrich, Mallards, Bitterns (Butores) and Larks, XVIII 7.
Of Earthen Pots, M. Price XV s.
Of Salt, 9 Quart. Price Xs. it is 9 Summas. But it is, without
doubt, a miſtake, for Salt was never fo low, as Three-Half-Pence the
Buſhel.
De Sciphis, M. CCCC, Mugs, I believe, or Wooden Cans, to drink
in, or it may be Black Jacks.
Diſhes and Platters, [Platellis] or Trenchers, M. M. M. C. C. C.
De Scopis & Gachis. Price VIII I. IVs.
ſom, and, by its uſe, a Penitentiary Diſcipline.
what Gachis fignifies, I know not.
Scopa, is a Broom or Bee-
But what it is here, or
Of Fiſh, Cheeſe, Milk, Onions, &c. Price III. X s.
Eggs, 9600, Price IVI. Xs. Which are about 9 for
Of Saffron, [Crocus] and Pepper. Price II. XIV s.
In Coals, and [Doleis] fetting up Furnaces. Price III. VIII s.
In CCC Ells of Caneum, Canvas, or Flax. Price IV.
In making up Tables, Treffels, and Dreffers. Price II. XIV s.
Given to the Cooks and their Boys, VII.
To the Minstrels, or Mufick III 7. Xs.
The Sum total is CCLXXXVIII. VII s. ood. taking in the Preſents
and Gratuities. At this Feaft there were 6000 Guefts that fat down at
the Tables, and they had 3000 Meffes. And therefore inſtead of quo
refpondentes (at the End of this Account) I would read Correfpondentes:
anfwering to, or fitting Oppofite to each other. And fo there was a
Meſs to each Couple. I obferved above, that this Prior paid dear for
many Particulars, and if you will compare this Account with the fore-
going ones, you will find his Corn of each kind, his Beef, and Mutton,
3
00 OI
01/
оо 18
OO 03 024
00
03
OO
OO 03/23/
Oo
OO
03
011/
OO
об
05
10
00 об
04 003
and
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM
405
Swans, to be at a high Rate; and as for the Article of Rabits, I am
almoſt fure there muſt be ſome miſtake in it, for they could never be
fo dear (fo long ago) as 6 d. a-piece.
In 1309. A pair of Shoes, (Spelm. Gl. v. Vatarius) at
In 1314. Antiq. Oxon. Upon the Chancellor and Proctors Com-
plaints to the King, (E. II.) that the Market of Oxford ran unreafon-
ably high, ſo that poor Scholars could hardly live, the King ſent down
his Mandate, to regulate this Affair. But fince the Parliament took
the fame Thing (with reſpect to the whole Nation) into Confideration,
it will be better to give the Rates they thought fit to ſet upon Provi-
fions, eſpecially fince there is no difference, or but a little, betwixt
theſe two Accounts. Thus therefore Mr. Stow fets it down.
A ſtalled, or Corn-fed Ox, at
A Grafs-fed Ox,
A fat ftalled Cow,
An ordinary Cow,
A fat Mutton, unfhorn (Corn-fed, the Oxford Antiq. fay)
A fat Mutton, ſhorn,
A fat Hog of two Years old (the Antiq. fay it fhould be ovis bima.
But, I think, the Price does not fo well agree with that) at
A fat Gooſe, in the City, 3 d. but every where elfe, at
I
A fat Capon, in the City, 2 d. . elſewhere at
I
A fat Hen, in the City, 1 d. 1. elfewhere, at
I 2
2 Chickens, in the City 1 d. 1. elſewhere, at
4 Pigeons (in the City but three Pigeons) for
24 Eggs (in the City but 20) for
But, notwithſtanding this Act of Parliament, Things could not be
purchaſed at theſe Rates, for People would not bring them to Market
(and that is a thing that Parliaments cannot remedy) and fo the King
was fain to revoke the former Act, and leave People to fell as they
could (for a Trade will do as it can, and never be forced, one way or
other) and (as Walfingham tells us, in 1315, and 1316,) the Price of
Peaſe, and Beans, and of Wheat was, by the Quarter, at
Malt, at
Salt, at
Nay, (by the Rains in Harveft) the Dearth was fuch, that Wheat
came to 30, and 40s. the Quarter. And Good Ale was at the Gallon
(per Lagenam, from whence the word Flaggon, which uſed hereto-
fore to hold 4 Quarts, is derived)
The better fort, at
And the beſt of all, at
So that a Proclamation was fain to be iffued out, that a Lagena of
Ale, fhould be ſold at
And that no Wheat ſhould be malted (imbrafiatum,) which the Lon-
doners had ufually done, to the great confumption of Corn, and fold it,
at (the Flaggon)
And the viler Ale, at
In 1316. Wheat exceedingly dear (Fabian) at the Quarter,
In 1317. So great a ſcarcity of Corn, that at Leiceſter, on a Satur-
day, Wheat was fold at (per Quarter)
1.
Oo
S.
OO
01 04
16
00 12
d.
04
888
Oo 10 00
ΟΟ ΟΙ 08
01 02
Oo
03
04
021/
Oo 00 02
Oo ΟΟ ΟΙ
ΟΟ ΟΙ
OO
QO
OO ΟΙ
Oo
ΟΙ
ΟΙ
OO
Oo
13 04
OI 15
00
Oo
02
Q0
00
03
00 04
OO OO OI
00 011/
ΟΙ
OI 12 00
And the Friday following, at the fame Place, at 14s, the Quarter.
02
04.00
1
3 H
So
406
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
So H. Knyghton; but there is a miſtake in his ſaying, the Scarcity
continued for two Years, and was general throughout all England. Fa- 1.
bian puts it this Year,
And yet of this very Year 1317, Stow tells us, that the Harveſt was
in fo early, that all was houfed before St. Giles's Day, which is Sep-
tember 1. and Wheat, that was before at IVI. the Quarter, was now
at VIS. VIIId. and Oats, that was before III. IV d. now at Vs.
IV d. which makes what Knyghton fays probable; for what he fays,
was but a decreaſe of two thirds: Whereas Mr. Stow's decreaſe is ele-
ven in twelve.
In 1326. 1 Ed. III. at Tunbridge in Kent, Inquifitio unum Capitale
Meffuagium LXX Acres of Arable Land, worth per Ann. XXXV s.
12 Hens, at
A Cock and thirteen Hens, at
8 Porkers and a half, at
80 Acres of Arable, at XX s. i. e. per Acre,
20 Acres of Pafture, each Acre at
14 Acres of Meadow, each at
18 Acres of Arable, each Acre at
02
S. d.
13 04
00 01 06
OI 07
Oo
15
Oo OO
03
OO OI
OO OO 04
27 Acres of Arable, each at
2 Acres of Meadow, each Acre at
A Cock,
3 Hens,
OO Oo
03
04
ΙΟ
ΟΟ ΟΙ
Oo
00 04/
Mr. Lambard's Perambulation of Kent, p. 541. You may fee from
hence, that you can make no certain Computation, from the Rates of
Acres, becauſe of the difference of the Grounds.
In 1336. Such plenty of Corn, and ſcarcity of Money, that Wheat,
was at London, by the Quarter,
A fat Ox at
So H. Knyghton, and Fabian adds,
For a fat Sheep VId. and at moſt
6 Pigeons for
A fat Gooſe, at
A Pigg,
And fays it was occafioned by King E. III. gathering up all the Mo-
ney he could get, to carry on his Wars, in France and Scotland.
In 1338. Wheat, the Quarter, at
Barley, at
Peaſe and Beans, the Quarter, at
Oats, the Quarter, at
I
In 1339. Several Undertakers promiſe to deliver at the Town of
Berwick, and in Leith-Road, 10000 Quarter of Wheat and Malt,
each Quarter at
88 9
02
06 08
00
08
ΟΙ
02
00 ΟΙ
Oo
Oo
03 04
00 IO
Oo
ΟΙ ΟΟ
ΙΟ
Oo
09
Oo
Oats, Beans, and Peafe, each Quarter at
Oo
05
Sir R. Cotton's Abridgm. Records. This was a high Price.
In 1343. Two Oxen, Price of each,
Oo
08 Oo
OO
05
Oo
In 1344. One Cow, at
Dr. Kennet's Paroch. Antiq.
In 1348. H. Knyghton fays, that in the Peftilence, Things were
fold almoſt for nothing. A Horfe worth 40s. was fold for
A good fat Ox, at
3
Oo
OO
06 08
04
Oo
A Cow,
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
407
A Cow, at
An Heifer, or Steer, at
A fat Mutton, at
An Ewe, at
A Lamb, at
A Hogg, at
1.
S.
d.
ΟΙ
00
06
00
04.
Oo
03
OO
00 02
00 05
A Stone of Wool, at
The Hiſtorian fays upon this Matter, Erat leve precium cunctis, præ
mortis timore, p. 2599. they were not only afraid of the Cattles dying,
but of their own, for, otherwife, Wool need not have been ſo cheap.
In 1349. Corn fo plentiful, and other Proviſions, that Wheat was,
by the Quarter, at
A fat Ox at London, for
Antiquit. Britann.
In 1359. Wheat, very dear, a Quarter, at (Fabian)
In 1361. Wheat fo cheap, that a Quarter was at (Monaft. V. II.)
Two Hens for a
In 1363. A Widow is to pay 4 Hens, or in Money,
12 Hoggs at XVIIIs. each Hogg at
Dr. Kennet's Paroch. Antiq.
Yet Wheat ſo dear, that Walfingham fays a Quarter was at -
In 1369. Walfingham fays there was fuch a Dearth, that Wheat was
fold, by the Quarter, at 1l. 4s. according to Stow,
Barly, at
Oats, at
fo
In 1379. Wheat ſo cheap, that the Quarter was at
White Wine was fold by the Gallon, for
Red Wine by the Gallon, at (Stow)
In 1382. A Tun of Wine not to exceed, (Stow)
In 1387. Barley, at Leicester, fold by the Quarter, at
Wheat, by the Quarter, at
and
Barley, in the fame Year, by the Quarter, at
Peaſe, by the Quarter, at
Siliginis, (which, what it is, I know not) per Quarter, at
In 1390. Wheat at Leiceſter, by the Quarter, at
4s. and
S.
13s. 4d. And Wool was fo cheap (by reaſon of a Law
that forbad Men to carry it but to fuch and fuch Places, for Stranger-
Merchants to fetch it, and might not export it themſelves) that it was
fold, by the Stone, at
and at 2s. and at 1s. 8d. H. Knyghton, who lived at Leicester.
In 1401. Wheat very dear, the Quarter at (Fabian)
In 1407. In a Computus, relating to the Prior and Canons of Bur-
cefter, Oxf. are found theſe following Particulars, to our preſent Pur-
pofe, which I have tranſcribed out of Dr. Kennet's Parochial Antiqui-
ties; which Book, if you will read it, will pay you for your Time and
Pains; being full of many curious, learned, and uſeful Obſervations, in
way of Learning.
this
For a Cow,
For the Calf of that Cow,
For a Calf of a Cow that was fomewhat weak, debilis,
00
Oo
OO 09
02 00
06 08
ΟΙ
06 03
02 OO
00 ΟΙ
04
Oo
ΟΙ
об
15 00
ΟΙ ΟΟ Oo
OO
16 04
08
04
06
04
04 00 00
OO ΟΙ 00
Oo
02
02
00
Oo
ΟΙ ΟΟ
00 10 00
16 08
00 03
OO
16
OO
07
OI 08
00 ΟΙ
For
408
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM
For 5 Calves, (each at 2s. 1 d.. very near)
For 5 Bufhels and a half of Salt,
For a Cowèle or Cooler, in Brewing,
For a Cow and her Calf,
For 2 Bushels of Wheat,
For a Man threſhing for V Days,
For 2 Oxen,
For one Ox,
For a new Plow,
For II Bushels of Sowing-Wheat, (the Quarter near 4s. 4d. 2.)
For 18 Bushels of Sowing-Oats, (the Quarter at 2s.)
For a Dung-Cart, and all that belonged to it,
For a pair of Cart-wheels,
For R. P. working XII Days, (at 3 d. per Day)
For J. B. working one Day,
For a Calf,
In 1416. Wheat very dear, the Quarter at (Fabian)
In 1423. Wheat cheap, the Quarter at (Fabian)
Malt, at
Wheat at 8s. the Quarter, was not, for thofe Times, cheap; but it
was cheap, with reſpect to fome dear Years foregoing.
A Ram, at
A Cheeſe at
From fuch Articles as this laft foregoing one, where neither Weight,
nor Goodness is expreffed, nothing can be concluded,
In 1425. In another Computus of the Prior, and a Canon of Bur-
cefter, Oxf. in Dr. Kennet's Par, Ant.
For a Colt fold,
For 10 Quarter of Peafe, (each Quarter at 2s. 2 d.) at
For 18 Quarter and 2 Bufhel of Peaſe (about 3 d.
Bushel) at
For 5 Ox-Hides,
For 2 Cow-Hides,
For 3 Cow-Hides,
For 16 Calve-Skins,
For 21 Lambs,
1.
S. d.
ΙΟ
08
03 04/12/2
OO OO 09
.00 07 06
00 IQ
Oo
Oo IO
ΟΙ
06 .08
00 I I
об
OO
OQ 10
Oo
05
10
OQ
04 06
OO OI 02
OO
03 02
03
Oo ΟΙ
16
OQ 08
Oo
05
03
07
Oo
OQ
Oo
08
00 94
00
08
Oo
OI OI 08
Σ
ठ
. per
OI 17 07
12
02
07
04 08
02
Oo
04
09
Oo
IQ 18 06
Oo
05
Oo
04 10
For 26 Sheep-Skins, of 2 Years old,
For 23 Tod of pure Wool, (at 9s. 6d. the Tod)
For 19
Ells of Cloth for Napkins,
For 132 Flaggons and a half of Ale, at
I have obferved before, that Lagena (a Flaggon) holds 4 Quarts.
Now an 132 Flaggons muft, at that Rate, make 528 Quarts, for which
there was paid but 58 Pence: which will bring it to 9 Quarts a Penny,
and 6 will remain befides. Now this cannot be allowed; there is there-
fore a Miſtake, either in fetting down the Number of the Flaggons, or
of the Money paid for them. And fuch Miſtakes are very eafie. A
Flaggon of Ale, or a Gallon, was (at or near this time) valued at Id.
I
or 1 d. 4. or 1 d. 1. And if you compute at this laft rate, and reckon
XVs, inſtead of IV, it will come pretty near the Matter.
3
OQ
For
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
409
For 32 Flaggons of Red Wine, at 8 d. the Flaggon,
For 3 Flaggons and 3 Quarts of Sweet Wine, at Is. 4d. the
Flaggon,
This is a manifeſt Proof, that Lagena holds 4 Quarts; for if it had
held 3> there had been 4 Lagenæ; if it had held 2, there had been 4
Lagene and 1 Quart. A Quart came to 4 d.
1. $.
d.
ΟΙ ΟΙ 04
To W. H. a Stone-cutter, for 4 Days work (4d. the Day,)
To J. C. and 2 Servants, Tyling for 4 Days (between 3d. and 4d.) 00
To 2 Sawyers working X Days (4 d. the Day)
For 20 Pullets,
For a quarter of an Ox to ſalt,
For a Cade of Red Herrings (720 the Cade)
For a Frail of Figgs,
For 12 Pound of Raiſins,
For a great Fleſh-Ax,
For 2 Yards of Ruffet Cloth for the Shepherd,
00
8
Ô5 öö
OI 04
03 04
06 08
ΘΟ ΟΙ 08
ÔỞ of 04
Oo
08
Oo
QO 03 04
ΟΟ ΟΙ ΟΙ
QO ΟΙ
04
OQ
02 02
For 4 Quarters of Wheat to be malted, (it is, pro 4 quarteriis 00 16 OO
Frumenti pro Brafio faciendo) each Quarter at
For a Bay Horſe, for the Prior's Stable,
For 2 Colts,
For 30 Pair of Autumnal (Winter) Gloves for the Servants,
To the Baker's Servant for 10 Days,
For threſhing a Quarter of Wheat,
For 8 Woodcocks, for a Prefent,
For 12 Pair of Gloves to the Biſhop of Worcester's Servants,
For one Man, plowing and harrowing 12 Days,
Vacca Pretium, (Maddox Formul. p. 144.) at
In 1426. 5 Oxen, each appraiſed at
6 Cows, each at
3 Horſes, each at
Sir H. Spelman, Gloffary V Graile,
In 1434. The Autumn was fo wet, that for almoft two Years fol-
lowing, in many Places of the Kingdom, Wheat was fold, the Quar-
ter, at
And yet at the end of the Year following it came again to (Hift.
Croyland Continuatio,) 5s. 4 d. therefore feems to have been the ufual,
common Price of a Quarter, about that time.
In 1439. Stow fays there was ſuch ſcarcity, that Wheat was fold at
Il. the Quarter. Fabian at
In 1440. The Scarcity continued, Wheat was, the Quarter, at
Malt, the Quarter, at
04 Oo
ΟΙ
06
08
09 00
04 Oo
ΟΙ
Op
OO 00 03/12
Oo
ΟΙ
05
OO OI
08 00
Oo
03 04
Oo
02 08
03
OI
06 03
Oo
05 04
01 06 08
or
04
Oo
13
00
OO
05 04
Oats, the Quarter,
Wine, by the Gallon,
Bay-Salt, by the Buſhel,
If I am not miſinformed, the Statutes of a College, that was founded
much about the fame Time with yours, fay, that the weekly Allow-
ance, for every Fellow, Chaplain, and Scholar, fhall be, Is. 4d. and
in Times of Scarcity, 1s. 5 d. and 1s. 6d. But if Corn ſhould be (and
continue for 20 Days) above 2 s. the Bushel, then their Allowance ſhall
be 1 s. 8d. the Week, and no farther. Wheat therefore at XVIs. the
3 I
00 OI 00
OI OO
Quarter
410
CHRONICON PRECIO SÚ M.
it
Quarter, muſt be accounted exceedingly dear. And yet in Ann. 1440,
was, at the loweſt reckoning of Mr. Stow, at 20s. the Quarter.
But, indeed, from that Year, to 1466, I have never found Wheat at
above 8's. the Quarter, and therefore 2 s. the Buſhel might well be ac-
counted a very high Price. And here, if it would avail me any thing, I
might juſtly bemoan our want of Hiſtory for theſe laſt two hundred and
fifty Years, and upwards, (I mean of Latin Writers) there having been
very few, that have tranfmitted any thing (as of their own Knowledge)
of the Reigns of H. IV, V, VI. Ed. IV, V. Rich. III. except what
Sir Thomas More has left us of the two laft. But, as to the Purpofe in
hand, I have had the good Fortune to meet with the Computus's of
nine or ten Years, that will exactly fit you, in this Inquiry, and they
are of very great Credit, and fhall go under the Name of E. C. but I
will firft give you an Account of the Price of Things, which I re-
ceived from a private, but a very creditable hand, of the Year 1444.
For 100 Quarters of Wheat, 217. 13 s. 4d. each Quarter at
For 2 Bushels of Wheat, (I fuppofe for Seed)
1.
OO
S.
d.
04 04
OO OI Oo
For 2 Bushels of Peaſe (for Seed alſo)
For Quarters of Peaſe, 15s. each Quarter at
5
For 50 Quarters of Malt, 10l. each Quarter at
For 6 Calves, 12s. each Calf at
For 8 Porkers, 1. 4s. each at
befides (i. e. without) the Head.
For 40 Geefe, 10s. each Goofe at
For
3 I Dozen of Pigeons, 10s. 8d. each Dozen at about
For 15 Dozen of Pigeons, 7 s. 6d. each Dozen at
For 100 Dozen of Pigeons, each Dozen at
For an Ox,
For 8 Cignets, of young Swans, each
For a Flitch of Bacön,
Fof 4 Oxen, (young, I fuppofe, and lean) 52 s. each at
For 26 Warp of Ling,
For 100 Stock-Fiſh,
For a Barrel of Herrings, (i. e. 30 Gallons fully packed)
For 2 Plough-Oxen,
For a Quarter of Oats,
For 3 Bushels of Green Peaſe, (for Seed)
At this Time it appears that Mafter Traders wrought by the Day for
3 d. and their Labourers or Servants at Id. But then, I believe, they
had their Meat and Drink. The yearly Wages were, fome 11. 6s. 8d.
others 17. For this, See hereafter, Chap. 5.
In 1445. 7 Quarter and an half of Wheat came to XXXs. which
is, each Quarter, at
Oats, by the Quarter, at
12 Flaggóns, or Gallons of Ale at Is. 6d. each Gallon at
Hay, by the Load,
For 3000 Red Herrings,
24 Bullocks and Heifers, 61. each Head at
Cloth for Surplices for Scholars, the Ell, at
ΟΙ
Oo
OO 03
Oo
04
00
QO
02
03
оо 03
Oo
00 04/5/55
Oo 00 об
OO OO 05/11/
OI II 08
03
ΟΙ
08
13
OI IO 04.
Oo
17 06
ΟΙ
Oo
ΟΙ
03 OO
ΟΟ ΟΙ
08
Oo 02 03
Oo
OO
04 06
02 Oo
Oo OO 011
Oo
03 0612
ΟΙ
I I
Oo
05
00
Oo
I
08
And,
CHRONICON PRECIOS U M.
411
1
1?1
And, that you may not think this Cloth to be very coarfe, I affure
you it was the fame with the Napkins uſed at the Altar; and that, if
you
know the Religion of thoſe Days, was certainly fine. E. C.
In 1447. Wheat, by the Quarter, E. C.
Oats, the Quarter,
In 1448. Wheat, by the Quarter,
Oats, the Quarter,
A Cade of Red Herrings,
A Barrel of White Herrings, E. C.
In 1449. Wheat, by the Quarter, E. C.
A Cade of Red Herrings,
A Barrel of White Herrings,
15 Sheep, at 17. 16s. 10d. each Sheep at (within 1.)
7 Hogs, at 13s. 8 d. each Hog at (within 4.)
In 1450. Oats, the Quarter,
Beans, the Quarter,
In 1451. Wheat, by the Quarter, at
Oats, the Quarter,
26 Gallons of Ale, (here the word Galo is uſed for Lagena) at
3 s. each Gallon at.
Beans, the Quarter,
For a Cade of Red Herrings,
For a Barrel of White Herrings, E. C.
In 1453. Wheat, by the Quarter,
Ale, per Gallon,
A Cade of Red Herrings,
80 White Herrings, E. C.
In 1454. Oats, by the Quarter,
In 1455. Wheat, very cheap, the Quarter at
Malt, the Quarter, (Mr. Stow) at
In 1457. Wheat, by the Quarter,
Oats, the Quarter,
A Gallon of Ale, at
1.
S.
d.
OO 08
Oo 02 014
OO
06 08
02
05 08
03
00 09
'00 05
Oo
06
Oo
ΙΟ
03
02 05/1/
OI II/1/
OI IO
OO
02
06
08
Oo
OI 10
011/1
03 04
OO
07 04
13 07
05 04
1
01/14/
07
об
OO ΟΙ ΟΟ
OO OI 101
OO
OO
ΟΙ 02
ΟΙ 05
07 08
01 091/
Oo Oo ΟΙ
A Cade of Red Herrings, at
92
White Herrings, E. C.
In
I
5 I H. III. it was determined by Authority, that when a Quarter
of Barley was fold at 2 s. then Ale might be afforded 4 Quarts for 1 d.
And when Barley was at 2s. 6d. the Quarter, then Ale was to be 7
Quarts for 2 d. and fo to increaſe and decreaſe, after the Rate of 6d.
the Quarter. But no Rules can always hold for Trade: as you may
fee, by comparing the Price of Barley and Ale, in theſe and other
Accompts.
In 1459. Wheat, by the Quarter, at
Oats, the Quarter,
A Gallon of Ale, at
A Cade of Red Herrings, at
92 White Herrings, at E. C.
In 1460. Wheat, the Quarter, at
Oats, the Quarter,
A Gallon of Ale, at,
A Cade of Red Herrings, at
Oo
06 08
OO OI oo
OO 05 Oo
OO 08 IO
OO ΟΟ ΟΙ
07
10/1/1
ΟΟ ΟΙ
08
02
OO
ΟΙ
07
OO
192 White
412
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
192 White Herrings, at Ë. C.
Here my private Guide, for a while, leaves me; but not before it
has made my Obfervation good, that from 1440, to 1460 (the Time
you inquire after) Wheat was never above 8s. the Quarter, notwith-
ſtanding the Sword was drawn betwixt the Houſes of York, and Lan-
cafter, which uſually cuts down Corn, as well as Men.
In 1463. It was enacted in Parliament, That no Corn fhould be
imported, if Wheat were not above 6s. 8d. Rye 4s. Barley 3 s. the
Quarter; which fignifies thoſe Prices to be high.
In 1463. At London, Wheat was, by the Quarter
Barley, the Quarter,
Peaſe, the Quarter.
1.
S.
d.
02
00
02 OÒ
00
ΟΙ ΙΟ
0.0
Oats, the Quarter,
At Norfolk the fame Year, Wheat, the Quarter,
Barley
03
04
OI 02
ΟΙ
08
ΟΟ ΟΙ 00
Malt,
Oats, Mr. Stow,
bo
ΟΙ 08
ΟΙ ΟΟ
In 1464. White Wheat was fold by the Quarter, (Sir R. Cotton's
Records.)
06 08
OI IO
In 1475. Oats, the Quarter, at
A Load of Hay, at
Oo
06 08
This is from a private Computus, P. C.
In 1486. Wheat, very dear; and Bay-Salt the fame Price. Fabian.
ΟΙ
04
In 1489. Oats, the Quarter, P. C.
Oo 02 OO
In 1491. Wheat, the Quarter, Fabian.
14
08
02
03
04
"
04
03
04
Oo 03
04
ΟΙ Oo
In 1493. Oats, the Quarter,
Beans, P. C.
In 1494. Wheat (cheap, and Bay-Salt the fame) Fabian.
In 1495. Wheat, Fabian.
White Herrings, the Barrel, Fabian.
In 1497. Wheat (very dear) Fabian.
Oats, the Quarter, P. C.
In 1498. A Load of Hay, P. C.
1
Mr. Stow fays Hay was uſually at 5s. but now it was 10s. or 12s.
In 1499. Wheat, per Quarter,
Bay-Salt, the Quarter,
A Tun of Gascoign Wine, at, Mr. Stow.
It is not for want of Pains, that you have no fuller Accounts of theſe
foregoing forty Years; for, I think, few publick Books have eſcaped
my Diligence; and my private ones have proved as barren. And fo
it will be for the forty Years and more that follow; our Chroniclers
wanted the Care and Obfervation of their Predeceffors; and fetting up
for Politicians, quite neglected (as they thought them) leffer Matters.
And, by a ſtrange Fortune, I have read the Computus's, or Accompts,
of a Publick Body, where there was always good Houſe-keeping, and
have not yet been able, for the Space of forty Years, to find what Price
a Quarter of Wheat bore, though they spent a great many every
Month. Your College-Books may fupply thefe Wants, if will
now and then relax from Studies of more Attention, to inſpect theſe
you
Oo 02
08 02
OO
04
Oo
OO
02 08
02
Oo
00
I
lighter
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM
413
lighter Matters, which will not make you a leſs uſeful Member of your
Society.
In 1504. Antiq. Canterb. Appendix, p. 27. Wheat the Quarter, at
Red Wine, per Dolium,
Claret Wine, per Dolium,
White Wine, elect
1.
.S..
d.
00..05 08
04 00.00
!
0313 04
03 06 08
Malvefy, a Butt,
Ale of London, per Dolium,
Ale of Canterbury, per Dolium,
Beer, per Dolium,
04 Oo
ỐI. IO
ΟΙ
OI. 05
ΟΙ
03 04
Dolium, I believe, does here fignifie a Pipe, or Butt, which con-
tains 126 Gallons. So that the Ale of London comes to very near 3 d.
the Gallon. The Red Wine at 7 d. 1.
In 1505. A Load of Hay, at
Oats, by the Quarter, at
In 1506. Oats, by the Quarter, at
Beans, the Quarter, at
In 1507. Oats, the Quarter,
Beans, the Quarter,
A Hogfhead of Red Wine,
In 1508. Oats, the Quarter,
In 1510. Oats,
A Load of Hay,
In 1511. A Load of Hay,
Beans, the Quarter,
Oats,
In 1512. Oats, the Quarter,
Beans,
In 1513. Oats,
In 1515, Beans, P. C.
In 1521. A Dearth. Wheat was by the Quarter (Mr. Stow)
In 1526. Oats, the Quarter,
Oo
об
Oo
03
Oo 02
OO 03
08
02
03 06
ΟΙ
06
08
Oo
Or 10
OO 02
OQ
09
00 05
00 03 04
02
OÒ 02
oo 04
Oo
་
02
04
04
02
OI 00
03
Beans, at
In 1530. Oats, the Quarter,
Beans, the Quarter,
In 1532. Oats, the Quarter,
Beans
In 1533. It will not be amifs, to infert a little Piece of Hiſtory, out
of honeſt Mr. Stow, to our preſent Purpoſe, under this preſent Year.
CC
CC
"It was this Year enacted, That Butchers fhould fell their Beef, and
Mutton, by Weight: Beef for a Half-Penny the Pound, and Mut-
"ton for Three Farthings: Which being deviſed for the great Com-
modity of the Realm (as it was thought) hath proved far otherwiſe.
"For at that time, (i. e. 1533.) fat Oxen were fold for 26s. 8 d. fat
"Weathers for 3 s. 4d. fat Calves of the like Price. A fat Lamb for
The Butchers of London fold Penny-Pieces of Beef, for the re-
"lief of the Poor; every Piece two Pound and an half: fometimes
"three Pound for a Penny. And thirteen, fometimes fourteen of theſe
"Pieces for I s. Mutton 8 d. the Quarter. And an hundred Weight
"of Beef for 45. 8d. What Price it hath grown to fince, it needeth
"not to be fet down. At this Time alfo, and not before, were Fo-
3 K
<. I S.
·
04 02
04
Oo
05 04
02 081
OO
05 04
cc
reign
414
CHRONICON PRECIO SUM.
1.
S. d.
00
02
08
Oo
03
04
об Oo
03 04
06
08
08
05 Or
00
08
Oo 08
05
Oo
12
Oo
"reign Butchers permitted to fell their Fleſh in Leaden-Hall Market of
"London."
I fuppofe by Foreign Butchers, he means fuch as lived not, or had
not ferved their Apprenticeſhip, in London.
In 1535. Oats, by the Quarter, at
In 1537. Oats the Quarter,
Beans, the Quarter,
In 1543. Oats,
Beans,
In 1551. Wheat, by the Quarter,
Malt, at
2 Quarts of Malmſey,
Oats the Quarter,
A Load of Straw,
A Load of Coals,
Whenever you meet with Coals, in old Accounts, you are to under-
ſtand thereby Charcoal, not Seacoal; which has not been in common
ufe (as well as I can gueſs) one hundred and fifty Years; at leaſt not in
London: Though I find them, in M. Paris under the Name of Carbo
Marinus, in the Time of H. III. in Additament.
In 1552. Barley, the Quarter,
In 1553. Wheat,
Malt,
A Tun of Wine,
Muſcadel the Quart, at
Malvefy, the Quart,
Red Wine, the Quart,
In 1554. Wheat, the Quarter, at
Rye, the Quarter,
Malt, at
In 1555. Wheat, the Quarter, at
Rye, the Quarter,
Malt, the Quarter,
In 1556. Wheat, the Quarter,
Malt, the Quarter,
Beans, the Quarter,
In 1557. Wheat the Quarter,
Rye, the Quarter,
Malt, the Quarter,
Oats, the Quarter,
For threſhing a Quarter of Wheat,
い
​Οὐ
05
do
08
Oo
05
00
05
об
OO
Oo
05
Oo
03
08
06 08
OO 05
OO
08
Oo
об
Oo
05
08 OQ
05 ÓO
00
06 08
08
OO
08
00 05
OO
10
For threſhing a Quarter of Rye,
For threſhing a Quarter of Barley,
Mr. Stow fays that in this Year, before Harveſt, Wheat was, per
Quarter,
Malt, per Quarter,
Beans and Rye, per Quarter,
But after Harveft Wheat was at London, per Quarter,
Peaſe, per Quarter,
Malt, per Quarter,
Rye, per Quarter,
ΟΟ ΟΙ ΟΙ
00
ΙΟ
Oo
00 05
02 13 04
02 04 OO
02 00 Oo
02 06 08
อว
OO
05
06 08
00 03
04
But
CHRONICON PRECIOS U M.
415
Só'
d
σα
04 00
00
00
04 08
02 08
But in the Country Wheat was, per Quarter,
Malt per Quarter,
Rye,
1 1
So that a Penny-Wheat-Loaf, which before Harveft was 11 Ounces;
was after Harveſt 56 Ounces. My Private Computus takes no No-
tice of theſe Advances and Falls, to which I return, and fhall only in-
fert, now and then, what Mr. Stow fays.
In 1558. Wheat, the Quarter,
1.
Rye,
Barley,
A good Sheep,
In 1559. Wheat,
Rye,
In 1560. Wheat,
Rye,
Barley, at
For a Load of old Hay,
For a Load of (I ſuppoſe New) Hay,
Oats, the Quarter,
In 1561. Wheat, the Quarter,
Rye,
Malt, the Quarter,
Oats, the Quarter,
In 1562. Wheat,
Barley,
For a Load of Hay,
For a Load of Straw,
For a Hogfhead of Claret-Wine,
In 1563. Rye, the Quarter,
Oats, the Quarter,
| | |
I would not have been weary of tranſcribing ſuch Accounts as theſe,
if I had judged the Knowledge of them, any thing to your Purpoſe;
but I perceive the Way was now, and had been fo for fome Years be-
fore, as well as many that follow, to fettle the Price of Corn betwixt
the Landlord and Tenant, without regard to what it truly was. Wheat
was generally fixed to 8 s. the Quarter, and Malt and Oats at 5. But
finding it ſo for twenty, thirty, or forty Years together, you may rea-
fonably conclude, that was not the true Market-Price, becauſe it is not
in the Nature of the Thing poffible, that Corn fhould be fo long at the
fame ftand. But yet if you take Things for twenty Years together, it
is likely that fuch a Price might be equal enough, betwixt the Landlord
and the Tenant, and therefore well agreed upon. When, therefore,
I have given you an Obſervation or two, of Mr. Stow's, relating to the
Publick, I will ſhut up this long Chapter, with an Account of the Price
of Corn for thefe laft fixty Years, fuch as was indeed, the real Price,
and not of Compofition or Agreement; of which you are to make the
beſt Uſe you can, in order to the Satisfaction you require.
In 1574. Such a Dearth at London, that Wheat was, the Quarter,
at
Beef (at Lammas) fo dear, that a Stone came to
!
08
08
00
OO
00 05
00 .02
10
Oo 08
00
08
OO
00 08
Oo
08
Oo
05 02
12
06
06 08
05
Oo
08
00 08
Oo
00. 05
Oo
05
08
00
OQ
05 00
13 04
06
02
ΙΟ
oo
Oo
13 04
00
05 00
02
16 O◊
OQ
ΟΙ ΙΟ
And
416
CHRONICON PRECIOSU M.
:
And Herrings, (fo dear)
ら
​Bay Salt (never fo dear) the Buſhel fold at
After Harveſt Wheat was, the Quarter,
and fo continued about a Year.
In 1587. Wheat was, at London, by the Quarter,
and in other Places at 10s. 12 s. and 13 s. the Bufhel. This was oc-
cafioned by exceffive Tranſportation.
1. S.
d.
00
02
06
ΟΙ
04
OO
03
04
Oo
In 1594. Wheat, the Quarter, at
Rye,
In 1595. Wheat, (by much Tranſportation) the Quarter, at
A Hens Egg, at
Or, at beſt, 3 Eggs for
A Pound of fweet Butter,
02 16
02 оо
OQ
02
13
04
Oo
ΟΟ ΟΙ
02
OO
07
Our Sins, (as Mr, Stow fays) deferving it.
In 1596. Wheat (by reafon of great Rains) the Quarter, at
Rye,
Oat-meal, by the Buſhel,
In 1597. Wheat fell from 51. 4s. the Quarter, to
Rye, from 9s. the Buſhel to 6s. and then to 3 s. 2 d. and then roſe
again to the greateſt Price. Bp. Goodwin in his Annals, 1557, fays
that in this Year 1 597, Wheat was 13s. 4d. the Buſhel.
In 1598. Pepper, fo dear, that a Pound was fold at
Raifins, at
Gaſcoign Wine, the Gallon, at
Sweet-Wine, the Gallon, at
}
04
୦୦
Oo
02
08
Oo 08
04
Oo
Oo
08
Oo
06
02
08
04
Now follows the Account, I promiſed you, of the true Market-Price of Wheat,
and Malt, for fixty Years laft paft.
Years.
Wheat, Quarter.
Malt, Quarter.
1646
02
08
ΟΙ
09
47
03 13.
08
ΟΙ
17
48
· 04
05 Oo
02
49
04
8.
Oo
02
02
8 8 8 8
1650
03
16
08
ΟΙ
18 06
51
03 13
04
ΟΙ
09
52
02
09
об
ΟΙ
08
53
ΟΙ
15 06
ΟΙ
08
54
· ΟΙ
06
ΟΙ
.55
ΟΙ
13
04
ΟΙ
8 8
08
56
02
03
Oo
ΟΙ
04
8 8 8
8 8
Years.
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
417
Years. Wheat, Quarter.
Malt, Quarter.
1657
02 об 08
ΟΙ
08 04
58
03
05
ΟΙ
09
04
59
03
об
02
08
08
1660
02
16
об
ΟΙ
12
08
61
03
ΙΟ
OI.
13
04
62
03
14
Oo
02
02
63
02
17
Oo
ΟΙ
12
08
64
06
ΟΙ
10
65
09
04
OI
08
04
66
16
ΟΙ
06
16
ΟΙ
02
08
67
68
69
1670
71
1672
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
1680
81
82
83
སྟྲ 8 བུ བུ 8 8 8 8 སྟྲ་ 8 ཊུ 8 8 8 8 8 ་
Oo
ΟΙ
04
Oo
04 04
ΟΙ
07
04
ΟΙ 08
ΟΙ
об
06
02
ΟΙ
05
ΟΙ
OO
ΟΙ
02
06
08
ΟΙ
04
08
08
ΟΙ
14
04
08
ΟΙ
14
18
ΟΙ
об
02
ΟΙ 08
* 8 8 8 8 8 8
04
19
ΟΙ
08
08
Oo
00
ΟΙ
об
08
05
ΟΙ
02
08
об
08
ΟΙ
04 08
04
Oo
ΟΙ
08
Oo
02
Oo
Oo
ΟΙ 08
08
3 L
Years.
418
CHRONIC ON PRECIO SU M.
Years.
Wheat, Quartet.
Malt, Quarter.
84
02
04
Oo
ΟΙ
05
04
85
02 об
08
ΟΙ
08
OO
86
ΟΙ
14
ΟΙ
0.5
04
1687
ΟΙ
05
02
ΟΙ
04
88
02
об
OO
ΟΙ
02
Oo
89
ΟΙ
IO
ΟΙ
Oo
Oo
1690
ΟΙ
14
08
OO
19
04
91
ΟΙ
14
Oo 17
04
92
02
об
08
ΟΙ
04
04
93
03
07
08
ΟΙ
IO
94
03
04
00
ΟΙ
12
{
95
02
13
00
ΟΙ
12
Oo
t
96
03
11
Oo
ΟΙ
08
OO
97
03
OO
OO
ΟΙ
08
98
03
08
04
ΟΙ
12
99
03
04
ΟΙ
19
04
1700
02
Oo
ΟΙ
04
1701
ΟΙ
17
08
ΟΙ
04
OO
1702
ΟΙ
09
06
ΟΙ
08
1703
ΟΙ
16
Oo
ΟΙ
༠༢
04
1704
02 06
об
ΟΙ
08
1705
ΟΙ
ΙΟ
OO
ΟΙ
06
8 8
In this Computation, you are to know, that in every Year there are
two Prices of Corn, the one of Lady-day, the other of Michaelmafs;
both which I put together, and take the half, for the common Price of
that whole Year. Of the firſt twenty Years of theſe laſt ſixty, the com-
5d.
mon Price of Wheat was 27. 17s. 5 d. 4. the Quarter,
Malt was 17. 12s. ood. the Quarter.
The
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM 419
The common Price of the fecond Score of Years was,
Wheat at 21. 6s. 3 d. 2. the Quarter.
Malt at 11. 5s. 3 d. 4. the Quarter.
The common Price for theſe laſt twenty Years paſt was,
3
Wheat at 21. 55. 9 d. 2. the Quarter.
Malt at 11. 51. 5 d. 4. the Quarter,
From whence it appears, that, one Year with another, for theſe laft 1.
S. d.
fixty, Wheat has been, the Quarter, at
02
09
10/1/1
And Malt (abating the Fractions) at
ΟΙ
07
07/1
07호
​Which is, 6s. 2 d. ob. q. the Bufhel of Wheat, and 3s. 5d. q. the
Buſhel of Malt, and fomewhat above.
Though I ought to acquaint the Reader, that the Market I have
computed by, is fomewhat higher than thoſe at a very great diſtance
from London; in which, if we allow Wheat to have been at 40 s. and
Malt at 24s. the Quarter, we ſhall come nearer to the Truth, in ge-
neral.
CHA P. V.
Of Stipends, Salaries, Wages, Jointures, Portions, Day-labour, &c.
IN
N the Council held at Oxford, 1222. It was decreed, That where the Churches had
no greater Revenues than V Marks per Ann. they ſhould be conferred on none,
but ſuch as ſhould conftantly refide in Perfon, on the Place. Spelman, Conc. Angl.
Tom. II.
A fingle Prieſt might therefore ſubſiſt on V Marks, but he could not afford to
keep a Curate.
Accordingly Ste. Langton, A. B. Cant. in the fame Year decrees, That the Perpetual
Vicar fhall have V Marks affigned him, i. e. as much as may be farmed out for V
Marks. Except in Wales, where by reaſon of the ſmallneſs of the Livings (and plen-
ty, I ſuppoſe, of Provifions) the Vicars are contented with lefs Stipends. Ibid.
In 1287. Peter Quivil, B. of Exon, in Synodo Exonienfi, decrees, That in
every Pa-
rochial Church, the Perpetual Vicarage fhould be endowed with at leaſt V Marks per
Ann. that he may, in fome Meaſure, keep Hofpitality; and in cafe he grow old, fickly,
or impotent, may be thereby ſuſtained. This muſt be done, if the Living be really
worth XL Marks per Ann. But if it be of better value, the Vicar's Portion muſt be
increaſed.
And as for a Curate (whom he here calls (a) Parochialis Sacerdos) he decrees the
Rector fhall pay him 40s. për Ann. for his Stipend: and ſays, if the Rectors think
themſelves aggrieved by this, they may do their Work themſelves, and fave that Mo-
ney. He alſo mentions Sacerdotes Auxiliarii, (b) and decrees, that they ſhall have
50s. per Ann. at leaſt; and if they have agreed for leſs (c), fuch Agreement to be void.
Concil. Ang.
(a) I ſhould have thought, that Sacerdos (joined efpecially with Parochialis) ſhould
have fignified a Pariſh-Priest, Rector, or Vicar, as diftinguiſhed from his Capellanus,
or Curate; but he ſeems to be here, a mere Stipendiary Curate, and removable, when-
ever the Rector will do his Bufinefs himſelf. (b) Why an Auxiliary, or Affiftant-
Prieſt, ſhould have 50s. per Ann. when the Curate had but 40, I cannot fee: But
there
I
420
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM
there is very good Reaſon, why ſuch under-hand Bargains (c) ſhould be made void,
which were fo much to the Prejudice of poor Curates. And therefore (before this
Conftitution) in 1253. among the Articles of Inquiry, for all the Dioceſes of England,
one was, Whether any Rectors had made a Bargain with their Curates, that, befides
the Stipends they received from the Rectors, they might receive from others, Annualia,
et Tricennalia; becauſe this permitting of the Curate to be a Mas Prieft, and to per-
form Annualia et Tricennalia, was to fave the Rector from giving fo fair and reafon-
able a Stipend, as he ought. Annal. Burton, in 1253. Note, That Annualia were fuch
Oblations, as were made by the Relations of the Deceafed, upon the Day the Party
died, every
Year: which Day, our Fathers called the Years-Day, or Years Mind, and,
upon it, Mass was celebrated with great folemnity, by one of the moſt confiderable
Clergymen that could be procured, according to the Quality of the Deceaſed. Tricen-
nalia were called Trentals, from Trigintalia, and in English, a Months-Mind, becauſe
the Service lafted a Month, or thirty Days, in which they faid fo many Maffes. As
M. Du Frefne obferves on the word Tricenarium, Officium XXX Miffarum, quod toti-
dem diebus peragitur, pro Defunctis, vel Obventiones quæ obveniunt Sacerdotibus, ra-
tione ejufdem Officii.
In 1289. Gilb. Ciceftr. decrees, the Curates, in poor Churches, muft have V Marks
for their Stipend; in richer Churches, they muſt have more.
In 1306. W. Grenefeld, A. B. Ebor. decrees the fame thing, Concil. Angl.
In 1308. Rob. de Winchelfea, A. B. Cant. decrees, that no Curate fhall ferve under
5 Marks per Ann. Idem, ibid.
In 1348. H. Knyghton fays, that the great Peftilence had ſwept away fo many Prieſts,
among other People, that a Chaplain could hardly be gotten to ferve a Church, un-
der 10 Marks, or 10 Pounds per Ann. whereas before, they might be had at 5 or 4
Marks, nay at 2, together with their Diet: and Men would hardly accept of a Vica-
rage of 20 Marks or 20l. per Ann. p. 2660. This I fuppofe was, becaufe Vicars
were thought to be obliged to ftricter Refidence, which, in Peftilential Seafons, was,
doubtless, hazardous.
In 1360. J. Thoresby, A.B. York, decrees the fame thing with his Predeceffor Grene-
feld in 1306. Concil. Ang. V. 2.
In 1362. Simon Ifelip, A. B. Cant. decrees, that Chaplains Annalia Celebrantes, and
having no Cure of Souls, fhall be content with 5 Marks per Ann. and they who have
Cure of Souls, with 6 Marks, unleſs the Diocefan, for good Caufe, fhall order more.
But Mr. Stow obſerves upon it, that it occafioned many of them to turn Robbers.
p. 265.
The fame A. B. the Month after, complains that the Priefts grew wanton, and were
not content with reaſonable Stipends, for ferving Parish Cures; but went about, rather
chufing to ſay Maſſes, for the Living and the Dead, and get what they could that way,
than fix in any certain Place: and therefore orders and appoints the fame Salaries above-
named; and if any One took any more, under any Pretence whatever, they ſhould be
puniſhed. Concil. Angl. This had been highly unreaſonable, unleſs 5 or 6 Marks had
been, at that Time, thought a ſufficient Maintenance for a ſingle Perſon. And ſo ac-
fo
cordingly about that Time we find it was the ufual Salary.
In 1371. In Stipendiis unius Capellani, o2l. 13s. 4d. Burton Ant. Leiceſt. 87.
In 1378. Simon Sudbury, A. B. Cant. repeats the Decrees of his Predeceffor Simon
Ifelip, and makes the fame Complaints. And decrees, that every fuch unfixed Mas-
Priest, fhould content himſelf with 7 Marks per Ann. either all in Money; or with
Diet and 3 Marks in Money. And he that takes a Cure, to content himſelf with 8
Marks, or with 4 Marks and his Diet. And all this, under Pain of Excommunication.
Concil. Angl.
I
This
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM
421
This Matter ſeemed to be of fuch importance, that the Parliament, in 39 E. III:
made Rules about it, in theſe Terms, c. 8. "If any Secular Man of the Realm, pay
tr
any more than 5 Marks, to any Prieſt yearly, in Money, or in other Things; to
"the value; or if he pay to fuch Prieſt retained to abide at his Table, above two
"Marks for his Gown, and his other Neceffaries, (his Table accounted to 40 Shillings)
" and thereof be attainted, He ſhall pay to the King, fully as much as he paid to the
"faid Prieſt." And this was renewed in 1414, 2 H. V. St. II. c. 2. in the following
manner.
"No yearly Chaplain, within the Realm, fhall take, from henceforth; more for his
"whole Wages, by Year (that is to fay, for his Board, Apparel, and other Neceffaries)
" but 7 Marks. Nor the Pariſh-Prieſts which be, or ſhall be retained to ferve Cures,
"ſhall take, from henceforth, for their whole Wages, by Year (that is to fay, for the
Things aforefaid) but 8 Märks: unleſs it be by Licence of the Ordinary. So that
"the whole Summ pafs not 9 Marks." And in 27 H. VI. a Pardon was paffed for
fuch Prieſts as had offended againſt theſe Acts.
cc
In 1421. H. Chichely, A. B. Cant. at the very importunate Inftance of his Clergy,
in Convocation, does, with the Conſent and Advice of his Suffragans, confirm and ra-
tifie the Decree of his Predeceffor, S. Sudbury in 1378, repeating the very Words of it:
Idem, ibid.
And in 1439, (which is very near to the Time you are inquiring after) the fame A. B.
Chichely, in Convocation alfo, decrees, That Vicarages fhould be augmented (by the
Rectors, or Appropriators) to 12 Marks per Ann. if the whole Benefice be worth fo
much, to fupport the Burthens incident to Vicarages. Idem, ibid.
Vicarages were at firft, free from all Incumbrances and Burthens; but by the Arti-
fice of the Monks, and Religious; the Favour they found at Rome, the Compliance of
the Biſhops, and by other Means, they came, by degrees, to bear almoſt equal Charges
with the Rectors, though much leſs able to do it. And therefore, though it was very
well, and wifely done by this Archbiſhop to augment Vicarages to i2 Marks, yet con-
fidering the Charges and Burthens incident to Vicarages, they were not much advan-
taged by it; for a Vicarage of 12 Marks, with its Burthens, may not be ſo good as a
Curacy with 7 or 8 Marks, without Incumbrance.
And therefore, even in 1439, (which is very near to the Time of the Foundation of
your College) a fingle Man was thought to be provided for, by a Stipend of 8 Marks,
which is but 6s. 8 d. above the Summ you are inquiring about. You may therefore
very reaſonably conclude, that, about that Time, a fingle Man might live cleanly and
decently, with good Management, with 5l. per Ann. becauſe it is not to be preſumed,
that an Archbishop, at the Head of his Clergy, and at their Requeſt too, fhould de-
cree fuch an Allowance for officiating Clergymen, as would not keep them (if vertuous
Men and fober) decently and cleanly.
Let us ſee alſo, a little, to the Allowance of Chantry-Priests, and fuch like.
In 1237. H. III. gives 81. out of the Exchequer for three Chaplains, to do Duty
daily in the Temple-Church, London, which is 4 Marks per Ann. each. In Monafticon
Angl. V. II. p. 521.
In 1242. Alexander B. Cov. and Lichf. erected an Office of Chanter in that Church,
and allowed for his Salary 61. 10s. Ang. Sac. P. I. p. 446.
In 1313. E. II. ordained and commanded, that his Chapel of St. Edward, in the
Caftle of Windfor, fhould be kept and ferved in the manner following.
First, To the Honour of God, of our Lady, and St. Edward, for him and his An-
ceſtors, it is ordained there be four Chaplains, who fhall be Men of good Condition,
and Diſcreet; of which one ſhall be Head-Chaplain of the Chapel, and the other three
fhall be his Seconds, or Affiftants.
3 M
2. Alfo
422
CHRÒNICON PRECIOSUM.
2. Alſo two Clerks, of good Condition, and that chant well, and in all Points atten-
dant on the Head-Chaplain, and on the others, as oft as there fhall be occafion for the
Service of the Chapel.
3. Each of the aforefaid Chaplains, fhall fing Mafs every Day, without fome good
Cauſe to the contrary; fo that every Morning there be two Maffes, by Note, the one
of our Lady, the other of the Day: the other two of Requiem, for the Souls of the An-
ceſtors of our Lord the King.
4. The Head-Chaplain, to defray his whole Expence, is to receive io Marks per
Ann. Each of the other Three an Cs. the two Clerks, each of them Ls.
5. And the King's Chancellor, whoever he be, becauſe he is the Head of the King's
Chapel, ſhall make, once every Year, a Journey thither, if he can be diſpenſed with
by the King, to fee that the faid Chapel be ferved with Ornaments, Library, and
Chantry, in the above-appointed manner; and make out his Breve de Liberate, for the
faid Miniſters, to be paid their Wages, duly, twice a Year.
6. And if any of the above-faid fix Chaplains, or Clerks fhall die, or be removed,
the ſaid Chancellor ſhall put a fufficient Perſon in his Place. The Title of this Record
is, De Providentiis pro Capella Windefore: and it is in Mr. Rymer's 3d Vol. of Fe-
dera, &c.
It appears (5.) that the Chancellor was the Head of the King's Chapel; and in the
Life of Thomas Becket (Chancellor to H. II.) written by one who lived at the fame
Time with him, that it was part of the Chancellor's Office, ut Capella Regia, illius
fit difpofitione & Cura. This feems to be the Reaſon of the Lord Chancellor's being
(although no Clergyman) the Viſitor of the College of Dean and Canons of St. George
in Windſor Caſtle, founded by Ed. III. his Son, which is the King's Free Chapel, who
was alſo born at that Place, of which there is this Memorandum, in the fame Vol. III.
1312. which, it will not be much out of my Way, to tranſcribe in this Place.
"Memorand. Ifabella the Queen was brought to Bed, in Windfor Castle, on Monday
"the next after the Feast of St. Martin, in Winter, in the Year of Grace 1312, the
"6 E. II. of her firſt-born Son; and in St. Edward's Chapel in the fame Caftle, he
<<
<<
ΚΕ
was chriſtned the Thurſday following, by the Cardinal St. Prifca. His God-fathers
were A. Pictavienfis Chamberlain to the Pope; J. Biſhop of Bath and Wells; W.
Biſhop of Worcester; Lewis Count d' Eureux; John of Brittany Earl of Richmond;
Aymary de Valence E. of Pembrook, and Hugh le Defpenfer."
In 1315. Two Chanters were appointed in the Church of Lichfield, and had, each
for his Salary 57. 15s. Angl. Sac. P. I.
In 1332. Elizabeth de Burgh makes an Agreement with the Prior and Convent of
Anglefey in Cambridgſhire for 20l. per Ann. which ſhe gives that two Chaplains ſhall be
maintained, with each a convenient Manfe, or Dwelling-houſe, and Diet, and 20s.
for Robes and other Neceffaries: or elſe to allow them 12 Marks, to find themſelves in
all Things; unleſs the Prior and Convent can agree with them for leſs. And in 1335,
ſhe diſcharges the Prior and Convent of one of thoſe Chaplains, upon their paying to
Rob. de Spalding, an Annual Penfion of an Cs. and gives them moreover a Rent-Charge
of IIS. IId. Monaft. Vol. II. p. 259.
Theſe Chaplains therefore were thought able to live, each upon 6 Marks, i. e. 4 l.
per Ann.
Between 1345, and 1381, Thom. of Hatfield, Biſhop of Durham, founded a Col-
lege for eight Monks, and ſeven young Men, to ftudy the Liberal Sciences; and allow-
ed to each Monk 41. and to each Student 5 Marks. Angl. Sacra.
In 1350. Two Prieſts, to officiate alternately, during the whole Year, every Day,
at the Church of Sherifhoton in the Dioceſe of York; to pray for the Souls of R. Nevil,
Lord Raby, &c. for Marks between them. In Mr. Maddox's Formula, p. 459.
7
I
In
CHRONICON PRECÌOSU M.
423
?
In 1373, The Maſter of the Hofpital of Foffe-gate in Yorkshire is to be a Clergy-
man, of good Fame and Diſcretion; and is to have for his whole Maintenance, the
Summ of 10 Marks per Ann. And if the Revenues increaſe upon his Management;
he is to get another Chaplain to affiſt him, who, for his Pains, is to have 7 Marks per
Ann. And they muft, both of them, conftantly refide, and conftantly officiate, on the
Place. Monaft. Vol. III. p. 99:
In 1400. John Plumtree of Nottingham, erected two Chauntries, with two Chap-
lains to attend daily to each of whom he allowed an Cs. or 51. per Ann. Monaft
Vol. II. p. 448.
In 1408. Fabian fets it down, that the Stipend of a Maſs-Prieft, was Marks.
And, not to multiply Inftances of this kind, of which you cannot fail of meeting
many, in all our Hiftories; There is a College in the University of Cambridge, founded
about the Year 1450, in which the ſtatutable Allowance of each Fellow, is 5l. per Ann.
to find him in Diet, Clothes, and all other Neceffaries.
You muſt now be content with Miſcellanies, the order of Time however being ob-
ferved.
Betwixt 871, and 900, King Alfred left by Will, to each of his Daughters, an
Hundred Pounds in Money. Mr. Cambden (in his Remains) fays 400l. But it appears
by the Will, printed at the end of Alfred's Life at Oxford; that the 400/. was divided, →
betwixt his three Daughters, and one Alfwith: But the Reader muſt not think that
this was the whole of their Portion, for he had fettled Lands on each of them before,
but this was all he left them in Money.
In 1087. When W. Rufus came to inquire into the Treaſure his Father had laid
up,
at Winchester, he found it by weight 60000 /. of Silver, befides Gold and Jewels. He
gave by his Father's Order, and for the good of his Soul, to each Great Church, (i. e.
Abbey, Convent, or Cathedral) 10 Marks. To each lefs one 5 Marks, to every Parish-
Church 5 s. and to the Poor of every County an Cl. Thus Ingulfus, who lived at the
fame Time.
In 1101. The Compofition betwixt H. I. and Robert his elder Brother, was, that
Robert ſhould have 3000l. per Ann. in Weight. Pet. Blafenf. Contin. The Words, in
Weight, are put in, to fignifie that the Money ſhould not be clipped; for a Pound by
Tale was at this Time, and long after, moſt certainly a Pound in Weight.
In 1135. When King Stephen was crowned, he feized the Treafure which H. I.
had left, which came to 100000l. befides Gold and Silver Veffels, with other Jewels
ineftimable. Tho: Rudborn, Hift. Winton. p. 284.
In 1193.
The Ranſom of R. I. was an 100000 Marks in Silver. Rad. de Diceto,
fays they were Pounds. But Mr. Rymer's Volumes are of greater Authority, than any
private Writer's Works, being made up of Records.
In 1201. King John agreed to pay Berengaria, the Dowager Queen of R. I. a 1000
Marks per Ann. for her Dowry, which he increaſed, in 1215, to a 1000 Pounds per
Ann. Mr. Rymer, in Anno.
In 1207. Amph. Till. being taken Priſoner by King John, was put to Ranfom, at
10000 Marks, in part of which he is to pay 10 Horfes, at the rate of 30 Marks a-
piece, or in lieu of them 300 Marks. Who this Man was, I cannot find, but his
Horſes were certainly as high-prized as they could well be.
C
In 1221. Joan, eldeſt Daughter to King John, married to Alexander King of Scot-
land, had a Dowry of 1000l. per Ann. Rymer:
In 1226. H. III. confirms the Dowry of Iſabella his Mother; and fays it was the
fame that Elianor his Grandmother had, and makes the fame to Elianor his own Wife,
the Earl of Provence's Daughter, in 1235, with whom he was to have 20000 Marks
for Portion. But the private Inftructions were, to accept of 15000, or 10000, or
7000,
424
CHRONICON PRECIÓ SU M.
7000, or 5000, or 3000. Nay, fhe was to be brought away, though they could get
nothing at all with her. Rymer.
In 1236. Iſabella, Sifter to H. III. was contracted to the Emperor Frederic, with
30000 Marks. Idem:
In 1254. Edward, the Son of H. III. promiſes a Dowry of 1000 l. per Ann. to
Elianor the King of Caftile's Daughter, whilſt he is Prince; but ſays, when fhe comes
to be Queen, he will add 500 Marks per Ann. more. And upon this Marriage, H. III.
fettles 15000 Marks per Ann. on the Prince. Idem.
In 1278. E. I. gives, with his Daughter Joan, contracted to Hartman, Son to the
King of the Romans, 10000 Marks Sterling; which are to be returned in cafe that
Hartman die before her, together with what Prefents the faid Hufband fhall ever make
to her. Idem.
In 1294, E. I. took into his hands, all the Eftates of the Priories-alien, allowing to
every Monk 1s. 6d. per Week, which comes to, 3. 18s. by the Year. And there-
fore, I fuppofe, a Monk might live tolerably well on that Allowance. For the King
was not angry with the Monks; but theſe Priories were Cells to Monafteries in France,
(with which Nation the King was now at open War) and whatever Surpluſage there
was, after the Charges of the Cells at Home were defraid, it was fent to the Monafte-
ries, or principal Houſes abroad; which was indeed feeding the King's Enemies,
In 1299. Ed. I. contracts with Margaret Daughter to the King of France: 18000l.
Turonenf. (four of which make one Pound Sterling) being agreed upon for her Dowry.
This in English Money came to 4500l. per Ann. But in 1315, he increaſed it to
50001.per
5000l. per Ann. Rymer.
In 1301. The Widow of Edmund Earl of Cornwal (Son to the King of the Romans,
and Nephew to H. III.) was, at the requeſt of ſeveral Lords in Parliament, endowed
with a Jointure of 500l. per Ann. by E. I. Tho. Walfingham.
In 1302. E. I. promifes, to Ifabella Daughter to the King of France, contracted to
his Son Edward, 4500l. per Ann. Rymer.
In 1306. E. I. leaves to his Son Thomas 10000 Marks, to his Son Edmund 7000
Marks per Ann. and to Eleanor his Daughter for her Portion 10000 Marks, and 5000
to buy her Apparel. Idem.
In 1307. E. II. confirms the Grant his Father E. I. had made to his Sifter Mary a
Nun at Ambrofebury, of 200l. per Ann. 40 Oak-Trees for firing in her Chamber, and
20 Dalia (or Hogfheads) of Wine, as long as fhe continued in the Nunnery, and lived
in England. And the Reader will not, I believe, be diſpleaſed, to ſee the Care that
was taken in thoſe Days, for the Suftentation of the Daughter and the Sifter of a King
of England, in 1313. Rymer.
CC
CC
c
re
The King, to the Sheriff of Wiltes, Greeting.
For
OR as much as we are indebted to our deareft Sifter Mary, a Nun of Am-
brofbury, in the Summ of 121. 75. 3 d. as well for Hay, Oats, Litter, and
Shooing, as for her Servants Wages, whilſt ſhe tarried at Windſor, in the Month of
"December laſt paſt, as alſo for her Expences in travailling from Windſor to Ambrof-
bury, as in a Bill of our Warderobe, delivered by our Sifter into our Chancery, ap-
pears more at large. We willing to fatisfy our Sifter, in this Particular, with all
"the ſpeed we may, Do hereby command you to pay to our faid Sifter, or her law-
"ful Attorny, the faid Summe, out of the Iffues of your Bailifry, without delay; and
We, in your Accounts at our Exchequer, fhall make all due Allowance for the fame.
cr
tr
Witneſſe the King, at Windfor, Jan. the 1ft.
By a Bill of the Warderobe.
CHRONIGON PRECIOSUM
425
In 1309. The Penfions allowed by the King to the Cardinals, and great Officers of
the Pope, who were, as it were, retained by the Court of England, were, to fome, an
100, but to moſt of them Marks per Ann.
50
In 1310. William de Morene of Saunford, Kt. being taken Priſoner by the Scots,
had allowed him by E. II. for his Wages, 4d. the Day; and for his Robe, 20s. the
Year. The better fort of Priſoners had 3 d. ordinary ones 2 d. the Day.
In this fame Year, A Man at Arms was allowed 10d. a Baliftarius (a Croffe-bow-
man) 3 d. an Archer or Bow-man, 2 d. the Day. And the Price the King paid for a
Balifta, was 3 s. 8d. Mr. Rymer's Collections in Annis.
In 1311. When the Order of Knights-Templars was to be deſtroyed, their Perſons
impriſoned, and their Eſtates confiſcated; many of their Servants, Chaplains, and De-
pendants, were, to be fure, utterly deftitute and undone : The King, E. II. thought
himſelf obliged to make fome Provifion for them. Some of the Knights were commit-
ted to Monaſteries, there to do Penance for their Offences; and to them the King al-
lowed 4 d. a Day, which feems to have been their ufual Allowance, becauſe in the
Mandate to the Biſhop of Bath and Wells to make this Allowance to four Knights, it
is there faid, Sicut prius percipere confueverunt. To the Great Mafter, William de la
More, 2 s. To feveral of their Chaplains, the King allows (as the Knights did formerly)
3 d. a Day, for their Diet, and 20s. for their Stipend, which is, by the Year, 67. 11s. 3d.
To other Servants 2 d. and to inferior ones 1 d. and 5, or 10s. for their Stipend,
or Livery. And for this, they were to do the fame Service, they had done to the
Knights, whilſt the Lands were in their keeping. Rymer's Collection.
In 1314. Elizabeth, Wife of Robert Bruce (King of Scotland) being Priſoner in
England, is allowed, for herſelf and Family, 20 s. by the Week. To Rob. Wychard
Biſhop of Glafcow, and William de Lamberton Biſhop of St. Andrews, Priſoners, is al-
lowed, each of them 6d. a Day, to a Valet 3 d. to a Chaplain 1 d. ob. and to their
ordinary Servants 1 d. ob. Idem.
I
In 1316. Ed. II. gives to Theophania, a French Lady, a yearly Eftate of 500l. for
ever, becauſe ſhe had been Nurſe to Ifabella his Queen. Idem.
In 1330. Joan of Oxford, Nurſe to the Black Prince, had a Penfion of 10l. per
Ann. and Maud Plumpton a Rocker had 10 Marks. Dr. Kennet Paroch. Antiq.
In 1326. Edward II. being depofed, had an 100 Marks by the Month allowed to
maintain him; which is at the rate of 800l. per Ann. Walfingham.
In 1495. When the Lady Anne, Daughter to Ed. IV, and Sifter to Queen Eliza-
beth, Wife of H. VII. was married to Tho. Lord Haward, eldeſt Son to the Earl of
Surry, it was agreed, that ſhe ſhould be allowed, for her Suftentation, and convenient
Diet of Meat and Drink, 20s. by the Week. And for two Gentlewomen, a Woman
Child (i. e. a Servant) a Gentleman, a Yeoman, and three Grooms, (in all eight People)
51%. 11s. 8d. by the Year. And for Suſtentation of ſeven Horſes, 161. 9s. 4d. i. e.
for each Horſe, 21. 7s. od.. M. Maddox Formul. p. 109.
In 1091. All the Men of Croyland, that will have any Turfe out of the Abbot's
Marsh, muft either work a Days-work, or give Three Half-Pence for one to cut Turfes
for Croyland-Court. Ingulfus.
The Serjeant of the Infirmary, fhall, for his looking after the Sick, receive for his
Reward (if the Party die) a Coat, or 4 s. and every one that watched with the De-
ceaſed, ſhall have 2 d. for every Night. Idem ibid.
A Coat is reaſonably valued at 4s. but 2 d. a Night, for watching, was an extraor
dinary Recompence. This Serjeant of the Infirmary was to have his Livery of Meat,
Drink, and Bread, and 4 s. per Ann. for Stipend. Idem.
3 N
In
426
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
In 1225. Magna Charta, C. 22. No Sheriff or Baily of ours, fhall take the Horfes,
and Carts of any Man for Carriage, except he pay the old Price limited i. e. for
Carriage with two Horfes 10d. by the Day: and for three Horfes 14d.
In Antiq. Conftitut. Admiralitatis (but of what Age appears not) it is thus appointed.
Si l' Admiral foit Bacheler, il prendra la jour, pour lui meme, fur la Mer, IVs. Si foit
Baron, VIs. VIIId. & s'il foit Count, XIIIs. IV d. Bacheler, is here, a Knight. And
I gueſs, as well by the Language, as the Wages, that this Conftitution is not very an-
cient. S. H. Spelman, in V. Admiral.
In 1329. Alſo they fhall barrow for three Days, or ſhall pay three Pence, i. e. a
Penny for a Days-work. It must not however, I think, be always concluded, from
fuch Paffages as thefe, that Men worked for a Penny by the Day: becauſe it feems to
have been the Cuſtom, in ſome Places, for ſome ſort of Holders, to be obliged to per-
form ſuch and ſuch Works, for the Chief Lord, at fuch and ſuch a Price. So in the
word Sefonis, in S. H. Spelman's Gloffary. Extenta Manerii de Garinges. He is to
work a Days-work, every Week, from Michaelmaſs, to the firſt of Auguſt, and for it,
he is to receive for each Day, Three-Farthings. And from the firſt of Auguſt to Mi-
chaelmaſs, he is to receive a Penny-Half-Penny; excepting the Winter-Seafon. Excepta
Sefone hiemali. See alfo the word Lanceta, where you will find much fuch another
Cuſtom.
In 1293. The Parcarii of the Earl of Cornwall, were to have two Meals, or 2 d.
by the Day, but the Earl would needs have 3 d. which the Inhabitants complain of.
Sir H. Spelman, in V Putura.
I will, in the next Place, give you (out of Sir W. Dugdale's Origines Juridicales)
fome Account of the Judges Fees or ſtated Salaries, but it is very imperfect, and only
better than none at all.
In 1226. The Fee of a Juftice was, per Ann.
In 1239. A Juſtice of the Common-Pleas, had
X Marks.
XX Lib.
In 1243. A Baron of the Exchequer, had
XL M.
And in the fame Year, a Baron of the Exchequer, had but
XX M.
In 1259. A Juftice of the King's Bench, had
XL L.
In 1260. A Juftice of the Common-Pleas, had
C M.
And in the fame Year a Judge of the Common-Pleas, had
XL L.
In 1262. Chief Juftice of the Common-Pleas, had
A Juſtice of the Common-Pleas,
C L.
XL L.
XL L.
C M.
In 1265. A Baron of the Exchequer, had
In 1269. Chief Juſtice of the King's-Bench, had
In 1281. Chief Juftice of the Common-Pleas, had
A Juſtice of the Common-Pleas, had
In 1299. Chief Justice of the King's-Bench, had
Chief Justice of the Common-Pleas, had
Chief Baron of the Exchequer, had
川
​XL L.
XL M.
L M.
CM.
XL L.
The Juſtices of Both Benches, and Barons of Exchequer had each
In 1302. A Juſtice of the King's-Bench, had
In 1364. Chief Baron, and the other Barons of the Exchequer had
each
In 1367. A Juſtice of the Common-Pleas, had
Chief Justice of the King's-Bench, had
A Juftice of the King's-Bench, had
In 1382. A Juftice of the Common-Pleas, had
In 1399. Chief Baron of the Exchequer, and other Barons had
XX L.
LXXX M.
XL L.
XL L.
CM.
XL. L.
XL M.
XL M.
Chief
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
425
1
Chief Juſtice of the Common-Pleas, had
A Juftice of the Common-Pleas, had
In 1402. Chief Juftice of the King's-Bench, had
In 1408. A Juftice of the Common-Pleas, had
XL L:
XL. M.
XL. L.
LV M.
In 1440. Upon a general Complaint of all the Benches, and of the Attorney General,
of the ill Payment of their Fees, there was an Inquiry made, what they had ufually re-
ceived for the laſt ten Years paſt, and what the Crown was indebted to them; by
which, and by the Anſwer that was made to it, it appears, that the ſtanding Fee
of each Chief Justice was 401. per Ann. but that by private Letters Patent, the Chief
Juftice of the Common-Pleas was allowed 180 Marks per Ann. And the Chief Justice
of the King's Bench was allowed 140 Marks per Ann. beſides their Fees. And for their
Winter Robes, 51. 6s. 11d. 4. And for Summer Robes, 31. 6s. 6d. The Fee of the
Justices of both Benches was 40 Marks per Ann. their other Allowance was 110 Marks.
The Fee of a Juftice of Affife was 20%. the Fee of the Attorney General was 10l. per
Ann. and what their other Allowance was, does not appear. The Allowance to the
King's Serjeants, and the Attorney, for Robes was 1 7. 65. 11 d.
In 1545. The Chief Justice of the King's Bench had an Addition of 30l. to his
Fee and each Justice of the fame Bench, and of the Common-Pleas had an Addition
of 201. And indeed, at the very beſt, their Rewards feem to have been far from equal
to the faithful Diſcharge of their moſt painful and moſt uſeful Office and yet it hath
ſo pleaſed God to blefs their Labours, that I do not think I miſ-reckon, when I ſay,
That the Law hath laid the Foundation of Two Thirds of all the Honours, and great
Eftates in all England.
Let us now fee a little to the Wages of Workmen and Servants, which has ever been
accounted of ſuch Importance, that the Parliaments themſelves have thought fit to take
cognizance of it, and to regulate it, according to the Rules following; though, I think,
with no great fuccefs.
In 1351. Workmen were to take their Wages in Wheat, at the rate
of 10 d. the Bufhel, which is 6 s. 8 d. the Quarter.
Sarclers (that is Weeders) and Hay-makers, by the Day,
Mowing Meadows, 5d. the Acre, or by the Day,
Reapers of Corn, in the firſt Week of Auguft, by the Day,
In the ſecond Week, and third, and fo on to the end of it,
Without Meat, Drink, or other Courteſy demanded.
For threſhing a Quarter of Wheat and Rye,
For threſhing a Quarter of Barley, Beans, Peafe, and Oats,
A Mafter-Carpenter, Mafon, or Tyler, by the Day,
Other Carpenters, Mafons, or Tylers,
Their Servants, or Boys,
Plaifterers, Workers of Mud-walls and their Knaves, or Servants,
at the fame rate, without Meat, or Drink, demanded.
1.
S. d.
ΟΙ
OO
`00 05
02
00 03
OO
02/1/
I
00 011/
03
02
OO
00 01/
Oo
In 1360. Mafter-Carpenters,
Others,
Their Servants,
In 1389. The Bailiff for Huſbandries yearly Wages,
together with his Clothing, once by Year at moft, and his Diet, which
is fuppofed in the following Cafes.
The Mafter Hind, or Chief Huſbandman labouring,
The Carter, and the Shepheard, each by the Year,
The Oxheard,
04
03
Oo Oo 02
ΘΟ 13 04
Oo
10 00
IO
об 08
The
I
428
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
The Cowheard,
1.
S. d.
06 08
ΙΟ
The Swineheard,
06
The Woman Labourer,
об
The Dayry-Woman,
The Plough-Driver, at moſt,
07
In 1446. The Wages of a Bailiff of Huſbandry,
ΟΙ
03 04
His Cloathing (Diet ſtill ſuppoſed)
OO
05
The chief Carter, and chief Shepheard,
ΟΙ
Oo
Their Cloathing, each
04
A common Servant of Huſbandry,
15
OO
His Cloathing,
03 04
Oo
IO OO
A Woman-Servant,
Cloathing,
04
Oo
об
03
Oo
An Infant (i. e. one under fourteen Years of Age)
Cloathing (with Diet)
The Servants of Hoſtlers (i. e. Innkeepers) Victuallers, and Arti-
ficers, at the fame Rates.
From Eafter, till Michaelmaſs,
A Free-Maſon, or Maſter-Carpenter, with Diet, by the Day,
Without Diet,
A Maſter-Tyler, Slater, Rough-Mafon; a mean Carpenter, and
other Artificers, building by the Day, with Diet,
Without Diet,
Other Labourers, with Diet, 2 d. without Diet,
From Michaelmafs to Eafter, they had a Penny by the Day leſs,
the Days being then ſhorter.
But in time of Harveſt a Mower had, with Diet,
Without Diet,
A Reaper, and Carter, with Diet, 3 d. without Diet,
A Woman-Labourer, and other Labourers, with Diet,
Without Diet, by the Day,
In 1514. A Bailiff of Huſbandries yearly Wages,
His Cloathing (Diet fuppofed)
Chief Hind, Carter, and Shepheard, each
Cloathing (with Diet)
Common Servants of Huſbandry,
Cloathing,
Women Servants yearly Wages,
OO
04
00 051
OO
Oo ༠༢
00 041
00 031/1
00 04
Oo
06
Oo
OO
05
02/
OO
00 04/12/1
ΟΙ 06 08
05
Oo
ΟΙ
00
05
Oo
16 08
OO
04
00 10
Cloathing,
A Child (i. e. a Servant) within 14.
Cloathing,
From Eafter to Michaelmafs, the daily Wages of
A Free Maſon, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
A Maſter Carpenter, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
A Rough Maſon, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
Oo
Oo
04
06 08
04
об
Oo 06
Oo 06
Oo Oo 06
A Bricklayer, with Diet, 4 d. without Diet was
A Tyler, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
A Plummer, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
00
об
OO
Oo
об
A Glafier, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
I
100
Oo
об
A Carver,
་
CHRONICO
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M
A Carver, with Diet, 4 d. without Diet was
A Joyner, with Diet, 4d. without Diet was
From Michaelmafs to Eafter, with Diet, 3 d. without Diet,
A Shipwright's Wages, was from Candlemass to Michaelmafs,
1. A Maſter Carpenter, with Diet, 5d. without Diet.
2. A Hewer, with Diet, 4d. without Diet,
3. An able Clincher, with Diet, 3 d. without Diet,
4.
A Holder, with Diet, 2 d. without Diet,
5. A Maſter Calker, with Diet, 4d. without Diet,
6. A mean Calker, with Diet, 3 d. without Diet,
A Calker labouring by the Tide, with Diet,
From Michaelmafs to Candlemass, their Wages were,
11
429
1.
S.
d
Oo
06
06
05
00: 00
Oo
07
00 06
05
04
06
05
Oo
04
With Diet,
Without Diet,
d.
d.
I.
4
6
2.
3
5
3.
21/1
4.
1 -/-/
N/H N/M
3
5.
3
5
6.
2호
​42
Other Labourers, from Eafter to Michaelmafs, except in Harveſt-
time, had by the Day allowed, with Diet, 2 d. without it,
༡
From Michaelmafs to Eafter, with Diet Id. . without it,
In Harveſt-time, a Mower, with Diet, 4 d. without it,
A Reaper, and a Carter, with Diet 3 d. without it,
out it,
A Woman-Labourer and other Labourers, with Diet, 2 d.. with-
Oo
04
Oo
03
Oo
06
Oo
00. 05
OQ
00 04/1
The Reader is not to think that theſe Rules were every where obferved; but no
Body could demand, or fue (I ſuppoſe) for greater Wages, than were here allowed: and
yet
the different Cheapnefs or Dearneſs of Provifions in feveral Countries, muſt be al-
lowed to make amends for different Wages; and therefore theſe Rules could not be uni-
verfally reaſonable.
T
CHA P.
A P. VI.
The CONCLUSION.
O apply the Chapter of Corn, and make it uſeful to your prefent Purpoſe, you
muft, in the firſt Place, remember, that, during the whole Reign of Henry VI.
excepting the firſt and laft Years of it (which contains feventeen Years above the Time
of your Enquiry, which is from 1440 to 1460,) there were 30s. in the Pound;
whereas there are now (and have been for above an hundred Years) 62 s. The Ounce
of Silver was then, at 2s. 6d. it is now at 5s. 2 d. So that the 57. (which is the Summ
1
30
you
430
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
1
you are concerned about) did then contain 40 Ounces; and 51. now, does not contain
above 19 Ounces From whence you may ſafely conclude, that 57. in the Reign of
H. VI. was of fomewhat better value, than 10%. now-a-days is. In the next place, to
know ſomewhat more diftinctly whereabouts an Equivalent to your ancient 5 will
come, you are (as I before hinted) to obſerve how much Corn, Meat, Drink, or Cloth,
might have been purchaſed two hundred and fifty Years ago, with 51. and to fee how
much of the modern Money will be requifite to purchaſe the fame quantity of Corn,
Meat, Drink, or Cloth, now-a-days. To this End, you muſt neither take a very dear
Year, to your Prejudice, nor a very cheap one, in your own Favour, nor indeed any
fingle Year, to be your Rule; but you muſt take the Price of every particular Commo-
dity, for as many Years as you can (twenty, if you have them) and put them all toge-
ther; and then find out the common Price; and afterwards take the fame Courfe with
the Price of Things, for theſe laft twenty Years; and fee what Proportion they will bear
to one another; for that Proportion is to be your Rule and Guide.
A
Thus, if for twenty Years together (from 1440, to 1460,) the common Price of
Wheat were 6s. 8 d. the Quarter; and if from 1686, to 1706, the common Price of
Wheat were 40s. the Quarter; it is plain, that 57. in H. VI. Time, would have pur-
chafed 15 Quarter of Wheat; for which you muſt have paid, for thefe laft twenty
Years, 30. So that 30l. now, would be no more than equivalent to 5 in the Reign
of H. VI. Thus, if Oats, from 1440, to 1460, were generally at 25. the Quarter,
and from 1686, to 1706, were at 12s. the Quarter, it is manifeft that 12 s. now,
would be no more than equivalent to 2 s. then, which is but a fixth Part of it. Thus if
Beans were then 5s. and now 30s. the Quarter, the fame Proportion would be found
betwixt 5% and 30%. But you muſt not expect that every Thing will anſwer thus ex-
actly. Ale, for Inftance, was, during the Time of your Founder, at Three-half-pence
the Gallon; but it has been, ever fince you were born, at 8 d. at the leaft: which is
but 5 times more, and a little over. So that 57. heretofore (betwixt 1440, and 1460,)
would purchaſe no more Ale, than fomewhat above 25%. would now. Again, Good
Cloth, fuch as was to ferve the beſt Doctor in your University, for his Gown, was
(between, 1440, and 1460,) at 3s. 7d. ob. the Yard; at which Rate 51. would have
purchaſed 27 Yards, or thereabouts. Now, you may purchaſe that quantity of fine
Cloth, at ſomewhat lefs, I think, than 25%. So that 25k now, would be an Equiva-
lent to your 51. then, two hundred and fifty Years fince, if you pay about 18s. the
Yard, for your Cloth.
Cloth. I think I have good Reafon to believe, that Beef, Mutton, Ba-
con, and other common Proviſions of Life, were fix times as cheap in H. VI. Reign,
as they have been, for theſe laſt twenty Years. And therefore I can fee no Cauſe, why
28, or 30l. per Ann. fhould now be accounted a greater Eſtate, than 57. was here-
tofore, betwixt 1440, and 1460.
Sir H. Spelman (a very competent Judge and Æftimator of theſe Matters) complains,
That the Laws have not fufficient regard to the different Price of Things, when they con-
demn People to death, for ſtealing things to the value of twelve Pence; for though that
is according to Law, yet that Law was made when twelve Pence would have purchaſed,
as much as you muſt now-a-days give 20, 30, nay 40s. for. And he inſtances in a
Quarter of Wheat, which in the Affife of Bread, 51 H. III. was rated at twelve Pence,
but, in his Time, was often fold for 40s. and upwards. It is certain, the Laws do never
condemn any One to death, for ſtealing to the value of one, no, nor three or four Shil-
lings: but it is certain, that many die for ſtealing Things of lefs value than 20 Shillings.
And therefore, I think, I have very fufficient Reaſon, (not to determine, but) to con-
jecture, that 51. two hundred and fixty Years ago, was equivalent to 28, or 30%. now.
And confequently, that he who has an Estate of Inheritance, or a perpetual Penfion,
of that value, now-a-days, may as honeſtly hold a Fellowship with it, as he who lived
3
two
CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
431
two hundred and fixty Years ago, might have held it, with 99s. per Ann. Nor does my
Kindneſs and Concern for you, biaſs my Judgment in this Affair; for I have thought
the fame Thing, long before your Queſtion was put ; and, indeed, ever fince I could con-
fider the difference of Times, and the different Prices of Corn and all other Commodi-
ties. And I had rather put your Confcience on this Bottom, whofe Reaſon is clear,
and founded upon Matter of Fact, and Hiſtory not to be controlled; than upon the
common Prefumption, that your Founder did certainly intend, his Scholars fhould live
like other Scholars of the Univerfity; and that theWay of living being now much changed
(do not offer to fay improved) from what it was fo long ago, you muſt needs be at liberty
to live in the fame Manner; for I dare fay, that neither your Founder, nor any other
Founder, if he were now alive, would admit of many expenfive Articles, which the cor-
rupt Cuſtoms of the Times, and multitude of Examples, have made young People think
neceffary; and which, I am perfuaded, muſt, ſome time or other be reformed, as
Things neither uſeful nor creditable to the Life of a Student. But of this, you will
think I have faid at leaft enough.
The Application of the Chapter of Stipends, to your Purpoſe is this; That if, about
your Founder's time, 7 or 8 Marks was judged a competent Provifion for a fingle
Clergyman, and 8 Marks do not much exceed 57. then 57. was a tolerable Maintenance
for a fingle Student. And if ſo, then if 28, or 30%. be now-a-days, but a fufficient
Maintenance for a fingle Student (ſober and virtuous) it can be preſumed to be no
more now, than 7 or 8 Marks heretofore was, and therefore may be enjoyed with the
fame Innocence and Honeſty, together with a Fellowship, according to the Founder's
Will.
I have now diſcharged my Engagement, and given fuch Anſwer to your Queſtion,
as I think is reaſonable, and Honeſt: and might here take my Leave of you, if I did
not think it would be acceptable enough, both to you, and other Readers, to acquaint
you, that fince I was employed in writing an Anſwer to your Queſtion, I had another
put to me, concerning the Oath which the Sheriff of a County puts to fuch as are Elec-
tors of Parliament-Men, if he thinks fit; viz. Whether they have Lands or Tenements
to the yearly value of 40s. ultra Reprifas? i. e. Whether they have 40s. per Ann.
clear; All certain and neceffary Charges being abated and deducted; for though a
Man may receive 87. a Year for his Eſtate, yet if his Quit-Rent, or any other certain
Payment, be 13s. 4 d. that Man has not an Eſtate of 81. ultra Reprifas, becauſe there
is 13s. 4d. to be reprized, or taken back again, which is, I think, the meaning of the
word. Now this Act of Parliament was made, 8 H. VI. when 40s. per Ann. clear of all
Encumbrance, was at leaſt equal to 81. per Ann. now-a-days, (I put it fo low, to avoid
all cavil and difpute.) When a Freeholder therefore, does now take his Oath, that he has
an Eſtate of 40s. per Ann. it is manifeſt he does not mean 40s. as it was valued when
that Act of Parliament was made (1430) but as 40s. go now in 1706. Is it not there-
fore manifeſt that he does not fwear to the Purpoſe and Intention of the Law-givers,
and only ſwears true to the Denomination of 40s. per Annum? To this I anſwered,
That doubtleſs, the Purpoſe and Intention of the Legiſlators, in 1430, was defeated by
fuch an Oath, when he who fwears has really but 40s. per Ann. as Money and Things
But
go now.
yet that fuch an Oath was honeftly taken, and without any perjurious
Fraud, or Reſervation, becauſe taken according to the literal Senfe of the Words of it,
and becauſe taken in the Senſe of thoſe who adminiſter it, and (as is moſt reaſonably
prefumed, though not declared) in the Senfe of the Legiſlative Power, which accepts,
and juſtifies fuch Proceedings, and which has equal Power and Authority, to put what
fignification it pleaſes on Words, with the Parliament that made that Act, in 1430.
Theſe Things, when put together, may look, at firſt fight, ſomewhat odly; that one
Man may fwear he is not worth 51. per Ann. according to the Statute that requires ſuch
Oath,
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CHRONICON PRECIO SUM.
!
Oath, when he is really worth more than 10% or 20l. per Ann. and another may
fwear he is worth 40s. per Ann. when he is really not worth 10s. per Ann. according
to the Statute that firſt impoſed that Oath. You fee then how neceffary it is to di-
ftinguish Times.
Whether the Legiſlative Power, in 1430, did well, and wifely, in reducing the
Number of Electors to fuch as were worth 40s. per Annum, (which cut off many hun-
dred thouſand Voices, and confequently many occafions of Tumults and Diſorders) is
not to be doubted over-much; nor yet is to be over-confidently affirmed, becauſe if it
had been ſo wife and uſeful an Ordinance, it would have ſtill been kept up, in its due
Proportion, according to the difference of Times; although the Changes of fuch Mo-
ment are not to be frequently and lightly made. But in theſe Affairs, it is not fit for
private People to meddle.
I have but one Thing more to offer to your Confideration, from the Accounts I have
given of the different Price of Corn, and other Commodities, and then I will put an
end to this long Letter: And that is, That if ever you defign to take Orders, and ob-
tain any Rectory, Vicarage, or higher Dignity in the Church, you be, above all Things,
careful, how you make any Compofition or Agreement, for any long Space of Years,
to receive a certain Price of Money, for the Corn that is due to you, although for the
preſent it may ſeem a tempting Bargain, and a profitable Exchange, and rid
fome Trouble. You know not what Time may bring forth, nor what
tions may happen, nor what great Miſchiefs you, unwittingly,
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may do
may your Succeffors.
But I cannot better reprefent my Meaning, nor fhew you the ill Confequence of fuch
Agreements, than in the Words of Dr. Kennet, in his Parochial Antiquities; out of
which, I will, with his Leave, and for your Sake, and for the common Benefit, tran-
fcribe a Page or two, to our preſent Purpoſe, p. 604.
"For the Miſchief of a dead
"and unimproved Allowance in Money, there is a good Inſtance cited in a Charter to
"the Church of Peterborough (See Gunton's Hift. put out with great Additions by
Biſhop Patrick) by Walter de S. Edmundo, about 1240, where the Abbot does
grant, for God's Sake, and in reſpect to Peace, that inſtead of the Affize for Corn,
"which the Cellerarius paid him out of Belaffife, he would hereafter accept of an
Equivalent in Money, viz. for 28 Quarter and one Schepe (¿. e. a Buſhel) of Wheat,
" he ſhould receive 41. 13s. 9d. by which Computation each Quarter was then va-
"lued at 3 s. 4d. Had the Abbey continued, what an unhappy Bargain had it proved
3s.
by this Time, when the Rent muſt have kept ſtanding at 41. 13 s. 9d. whereas
"the preſent value of the Corn, would have been ſeldom leſs than Fifty Pounds. Such
"like Prejudice was done to the Church of Sulthorn (now Souldern) Com. Oxon. the
"Rector whereof uſed to receive from the Abbot and Convent of Ofeney, one Acre of
Bread-Corn, growing on their Demefn of Mixbury, and four Pence from their De-
"mefn of Fulewell, till about the latter end of Hen. III. Robert de Hay, Rector of that
Church, agreed to receive One hundred Shillings from the faid Abbey, to purchaſe
"to himſelf and Succeffors, the Annual Rent of five Shillings, in full Compenfation
"for the faid Acre of Corn. So when Maud de Chefney had given to the Prior and
"Canons of Burcefter 5 Quarters of Bread-Corn, out of her Mannor of Heyford; (now
Heyford Warine) Com. Oxon. to be delivered yearly to them, on Condition they
"ſhould find Hofts, or confecrated Bread at the ſaid Church of Heyford; when this
"Mannor and Church were conveyed to New College in Oxford, Tho. Banbury Prior
"of Burceſter and his Convent did, in 2 H. VII. A. 1486, releaſe the ſaid Rent-
Charge of Corn, for the Confideration of fix Shillings and eight Pence, yearly in Mo-
ney; which, by this time, would have born no greater Proportion to that quantity of
"Wheat, than I does to 30. When Pariſh-Churches were firft appropriated to Re-
ligious Houſes, they were fupplied by Secular Prieſts, who were ftipendiary Curates,
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CHRONICON PRECIOSUM.
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with the Salary of 5, or at beſt, but 10 Marks; and when by the Ordination of
Vicarages, this Stipend was exchanged into a ſtanding Portion of Tithe and Glebe,
"and Manfe, fuch Endowment was generally proportioned to the Pecuniary Rate of 5
or 10 Marks, fo that the Alteration at that time, was no Benefit to the Prieft, only
it bettered his Title, and made him a Perpetual Vicar, inſtead of an Arbitrary Cu-
CC rate. But confider, if the Portion of the Vicar had been allotted in fuch a certain
"Summ of Money, what Mendicants muft our Country-Vicars now have been!
"Whereas the Affignation being made in improveable Land and Tithe, by this means
(the value of Money abating, and the rate of Land and Commodities advancing) ſome
"Vicarages, which at the firſt Ordination, had no greater Endowment than what was
equivalent to 5 Marks, do now afford the Maintenance of 50l. per Ann. Hence the
Memory of Sir Thomas Smith is highly to be honoured, for promoting the Act in
"18 Eliz. whereby it was provided, that a third Part of the Rent upon Leaſes made
by Colleges, fhould be referved in Corn, payable either in Kind or Money, after the
" rate of the beſt Prices in Oxford, or Cambridge Markets, on the next Market-Day
"before Michaelmafs and Lady-Day. This worthy Knight is faid to have been en-
gaged in this Service, by the Advice of Mr. Henry Robinson, foon after Provost of
Queens College, Oxon. and from that Station advanced to the See of Carlisle. And
"Tradition goes, that this Bill paffed the Houſes, before they were fenfible of the good
Confequences of it. We know, in the latter Times of our Confufion, a Project was
"carried on, of deftroying the ancient Right of Tithes, and converting that pious
"Maintenance of the Clergy, into fettled Portions of Money. How fatal this Innova-
"tion would have been in time, is ingenioufly urged by two ingenious and learned
"Writers, (Mr. Stephens Preface to Sir H. Spelman of Tithes; and Dr. Comber, Hiftor.
"Vindication of Tithes, P. II. C. X.) We have had fome Benefices in England, al-
"tered by fuch Method, by Decrees in Chancery, with a certain Summ in Money,
"allotted in Compenfation of all Tithes: This may ſeem an Eafe, and perhaps an Ad-
vantage, upon the firſt Eſtabliſhment of it. But, unleſs the Incumbent be inveſted
" with a Power of Revocation; and as the Reaſon alters, can re-affume his Right of
Tithing, I am fure, in an Age or two, the Succeffors will fuffer extreamly by fuch
a Bargain. For a Living now, of One hundred Pounds per Ann. in Compofition-
Money, will, in a future Generation, by this ftinted Revenue, not exceed another
Living, that is not, at prefent, of half the value, in Glebe and Tithe. And it will
"then (too late) appear, that the Predeceffor, who complied with fuch a Change,
"did not confult the Intereft of the Church; and that fuch a Decree did not become
a Court of Equity. It is very obvious to confider, that nothing has been a more un-
juſt Diminution of ſmall Tithes, than the Cuſtom of a Rate in Money, inſtead of the
" titheable Thing in kind; though ſuch Rate, no doubt, when firſt impoſed was equi-
"valent to the Things commuted for it, whereas they now bear but ſmall, or no Pro-
portion to it. As, for Inftance, in one of the old Saxon Laws (confirmed by
"the Conqueror) it is provided, That if a Man have one or two Colts, he fhall pay
"for the fall of each, one Penny, and the like for Calves; which was a juft Proportion,
" when the beſt Colt or Calf was not valued above 10d. But the Iniquity is, that this
Cuſtom does ſtill obtain in many Pariſhes; and the like minute Confideration, for
"Wool and Lambs, where, for Cuſtom fake, the Trifle muſt be taken, without any
Allowance for the much advanced value of them: by which means, the modus De-
"cimandi is a growing Injury, and calls for a Relief by Law, when it ſhall pleaſe the
Wiſdom, and the Juftice of our Governours. Thoſe eight Men of Quality and
Learning, who were appointed at the beginning of the Reformation, to collect fuch
"Ecclefiaftical Canons, as ought to remain in force, did freely declare their Judgment,
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434
CHRONICON PRECIO SU M.
“That theſe Cuſtoms ought to be abrogated. And the learned Dr. Cowell has profeffed the
"fame Opinion, that it is reaſonable to take away all fuch Customs, as do, leffen the
"Tenth Part, due to the Church of God. (the Interpreter in the word Tithe.)" Thus
far that learned and experienced Perfon, to whofe Authority I can add nothing,
fince what he ſays is plain and reaſonable, and confirmed by Matter of Fact. And I
do heartily concur with him, in wiſhing the Gentlemen of the Clergy would ſeriouſly
confider theſe Matters, wherever they have occafion. And thus, you fee, that the Con-
fideration of theſe fmall Matters, may be of Ufe, in Things of great importance. I have
only to add, That I fhall think my felf well paid for my Pains, if I have given you
the Satisfaction you defire, and any little Encouragement to look your felf into the An-
tiquities of your Native Country, according to the very laudable Example of many ex-
cellent Perfons of your Famous
Famous Univerfity.
}
A THANKS-
435
A THANKSGIVING
SERMON
Preached before the QUEEN at
St. Paul's, August 19. 1708.
EZEKIEL Chap. XXXVI. Ver. 32.
Not for your Jakes do I do this, faith the Lord God, be it known unto
you: Be ashamed and confounded for your own ways, O Houſe of
Ifrael.
T
HE Prophet is, in this Chapter, commanded by God to comfort the People
and Land of Ifrael with the News of the Deftruction of the Heathen, who
fpitefully uſed them, and infulted over them, in their Misfortunes; and
with the Bleffings of God, promiſed unto them: And to tell them, more-
over, That as they had been rejected for their Sins, fo they ſhould be restored without
their Deſerts: And lastly, what Uſe they ought to make of theſe his Favours. Thus
faith the Lord God, Because the Enemy hath faid against you, Aha, even the ancient
High Places are ours in. Poffeffion; therefore prophesy and fay, Surely in the Fire of my
Jealousy have I spoken against the Refidue of the Heathen, which have appointed my
Land unto their Poffeffion, with the Joy of all their Heart, with defpiteful Minds, to
caft it out for a Prey. I have lifted up my Hand; furely the Heathen that are about
you, they shall bear their Shame. But ye, O Mountains of Ifrael, ſhall ſhoot forth your
Branches, and yield the Fruit to my People of Ifrael, for they are at Hand to come; for
behold, I am for you, and I will turn unto you, and will multiply upon you Man and Beaft;
and they shall increaſe and bring forth Fruit, and I will fettle you after your old Eftate,
and will do better with you than at your Beginnings, and ye shall know that I am the
Lord. But becauſe Men are exceeding apt to over-value themſelves; left the Jews
fhould vainly imagine that God removed thefe Evils from them, and promiſed them
thefe Bleffings for their own fakes, the Prophet is commanded farther to undeceive
them, and tell them plainly, ver. 17. That God punished them, and
gave them up to
their Enemies efervedly, and for their Sins, which they forſook not in their Sufferings,
but profaned his Holy Name among the Heathen; and therefore could not in Reaſon
think, that they deſerved to be delivered by him. But, left they ſhould, he tells them,
ver. 22. Thus faith the Lord God, I do not this for your fakes; and then goes on to tell
them what Bleffings he will farther beftow upon them; and in ver. 31. tells them
how they ſhould improve theſe Favours. Then fhall ye remember your own evil ways;
and your doings that were not good, and shall loath your felves in your own fight, for your
Iniquities, and for your Abominations. And then follow the Words of the Text,
which feem to comprize the whole Matter again: Not for your fakes do I do this, faith
the Lord God, be it known unto you: Be ashamed and confounded for your own ways, O
Houfe of Ifrael. Of which Words, the Uſes we may make at this Time, are theſe.
First, To confider, that though God never puniſhes a Nation, but when it deſerves it
at his Hands, yet he often bleffes a Nation when it does not deferve it. Be it known
I
unta
436
A Thankſgiving SERMON preached
unto you, faith the Lord God, not for your fakes do I this, i. e. deliver you from Evils,
and promiſe you Bleffings. Secondly, That the Senſe of theſe undeferved Favours ſhould
work upon Mens Hearts, and ftir them up the rather to Repentance—Bë aſhamed
and confounded for your own ways, O Houfe of Ifrael.
.t
I. That God does never puniſh or afflict a Nation, but it deferves it at his Hands, is
agreed upon moſt univerfally; becauſe no Body can conceive otherwife, without con-
ceiving him unjuſt, which contradicts both the natural and revealed Notions we have
of him, which ſet him forth as the most perfect, excellent, and ufeful Being; and
therefore one that can have no Temptation to Injuftice, much lefs can arbitrarily be un-
juft, or puniſh without Cauſe and Provocation; which would not only deftroy the Na-
ture of Juſtice, but even the End and Deſign of Puniſhment, which is not only to
afflict Offenders, but to terrify and difcourage People from offending. God's Puniſh-
ments are always for a good End, for Illuſtration of his Power, to declare his Hatred
of Sin, and to deter others from finning. Now the Power of God is manifeſted in pu-
niſhing; but to ſhew his Hatred of Sin withal, he muſt only fhew his Power in pu-
niſhing Sinners; and if the Exerciſe of this Power is to deter others from finning, it
can only do it by puniſhing Sinners. Every thing helps to fhew, that a Nation or Peo-
ple is never puniſhed by God, but it deferves it at his Hands; for God can do nothing
unjuſt, nor puniſh undeſervedly; nor have we any other way of judging of his Power,
than by our natural Notions of his Juſtice and Goodneſs, with the concordant Declara-
tions of his Will in Revelation.
But God does often bleſs a Nation and People, when they deſerve it not; which is
the other Part of the Propofition, and full as certain as the firft. To this we can all of
us bear full Teſtimony, and evidence its Truth, by the many and great Favours we
continually receive at God's Hands, which we may well acknowledge undeferved, not
out of our Humility and Modefty, but in great Truth and Juſtice; and unleſs it were
fo, there could be no room for Mercy and Favour. To deferve Evil, and receive Good,
is as neceffary to the Illuftration of God's Mercy, as to deferve Evil, is to the Juftifica-
tion of his Righteoufnefs when he puniſhes. A Man can no more be pardoned, than
he can be punished, without Fault : And therefore, as our Offences vindicate God's
Juſtice, fo do they alſo illuftrate his Mercy and Forgiveneſs. And though we muſt not
therefore fin, that Grace may abound, yet without Sin, it is fure that Grace could not
abound; for there would be no need of it, as it is taken for God's free Mercy and For-
giveneſs of our Sins, by the Blood of Jefus Chrift.
And as it is, with regard to our Spiritual Concerns, to the Gifts and Graces of God,
and the Forgiveneſs of our Sins; fo is it alfo with refpect to our Temporal ones, to the
Bleffings and Favours he beſtows on Men in this Life; they are all of them undeſerved;
Marks of his Goodneſs, not the Rewards of any Merit on our part. Not for your fakes
do I this, faith the Lord God, be it known unto you. And though there is no doubt but
God hath fecret Reaſons, ftrong and good, for thefe Proceedings, yet need we not be
follicitous of knowing what they are; for every one is fatisfied, no one difputes or mur-
murs about Favours; both God and Man may fhew Compaffion without Reſtraint,
and on what Terms they pleaſe; for no one is thereby injured; no one is free to do
another the leaſt Miſchief, but all the Good he can, or will. Acts of Justice are al-
ways neceſſary, and therefore under Laws and Rules; and Men cannot ſhew as much
or as little as they pleaſe, but as much as is reaſonable and fit in the Cafes before them;
but Acts of Favour are always voluntary, and therefore left at large for Men to do them
as they pleaſe, either more or lefs. And therefore, there is no Difficulty of underftand-
ing, and affenting to what God fays to Mofes, (as it is cited by St. Paul, Rom, ix. 15.)
I will have Mercy on whom I will have Mercy, and I will have Compaffion on whom I
will
I
before the QUE EN at St. Paul's.
437
will have Compaffion; for no Body is hurt by as much Mercy and Compaffion as can be
ſhewn Here is no exerciſe of a Power that People tremble under, but of one that all
Mankind rejoices in, and cares not how far it is extended.
:
We are all of us fit for undeferved Favours; and if God fhould deal with us accord-
ing to our Righteouſneſs and Innocence in his Eye-fight, though one Man would be
happier than another, yet even the beſt would be but miſerable.
But becauſe the Text efpecially refers to Bleffings National and Common, and we
are met by publick Order, to commemorate with Thankfulneſs to God the Bleffings
that we have received, all other private Confiderations muft give way on this Occafion.
The Text would very well allow me to recount the many great Deliverances that
God hath wrought for us, in the feveral Days of our Diſtreſs; and the many amazing
Succeffes he hath bleffed us with from time to time, for many Generations, as well
againſt our Enemies abroad, as the Diſturbers of our Peace at home.
The Reformation of Religion at the firft, from fo much Superftition and Corruption,
as had over-fpread its Face-The awakening of the Nation to the Light and Truth
of Chrift's Gofpel, after fo long and fo profound a Sleep in Ignorance and Error
The Restoration of the Royal Family, and of the Government both in Church and
State, after a long unnatural War, and the total Subverfion of them both, and fettling
all Things on their old Foundations-The Revolution, that fecured again our Church
and State, when their Foundations were again fhaken-Thefe fo great and univerfal
Bleffings, would not be here improperly infifted on, when we are counting up the In-
ſtances of God's Favour and Mercy to our Nation; and when we ſet our felves to con-
fider, we never can forget them; nor remember them without great Gratitude and
Praiſe. But theſe would call for much more Time and Patience than I can look for
upon this Occaſion; I know not if I ſhould be now permitted to number up diſtinctly
the Bleffings of even ſo ſmall a Part (I hope) of the Preſent Reign, as is already paffed:
They have been many in their Weight and Number, and have been each of them con-
fidered in their proper Seaſon; and if the Mention of them now may but excite one
ſhort and tranfient Act of Praiſe and Thankfulneſs to God within your Minds, I fhall
not think I have neglected them.
Nor does the preſent Year want to recall the former ones, to furnish us with Matter
for Thankſgiving both for Deliverance, and for Victory : Sufficient to it are the Bleffings
of it.
The infolent Attempt of France upon the Nation in the Spring, was fo foon and
eaſily defeated, that it hardly gave us time to apprehend any Danger from it: And even
upon the fobereſt Recollection, if we might judge only by what appears, it ſeems to
have deſerved the general Scorn it was received withal. To fee a Prince grown old in
artful Wiles, and deep Contrivances, forming a Project of fo vaft Extent, and of the
moſt momentous Confequence to all Europe, -and feconding it with Means fo dif-
proportioned, and ill fitted to their End- -yet fo affured of its Succefs,is one of
the moſt amazing Tranſactions of the Age we live in; which yet has been exceeding
fruitful of Strange Things.
To think a Kingdom of ſo great a Compaſs, wealthy beyond all Imagination, flou-
riſhing in Trade, powerful in Fleets and Armies, moſt tender of its Liberties, tenacious
of its Laws, and Cuſtoms, and Religion, and (for their fakes, as well as for her own)
almoſt an Idolizer of its Queenſhould tamely, on the fudden, furrender all theſe
Bleffings and Advantages in Exchange for a detefted Superftition, Poverty, and Chains,
under the Rule of One, whom they neither love, nor fear, nor know————and this to
be effected by a Force which heretofore would ſcarcely have reduced an Engliſh Noble-
man-may pafs, upon the Reputation of the former Winter-Councils, and the ufual
Precaution of its great Contriver, for a well-laid Defign: But fure, with Us, who know
зе
Our
438
A Thanksgiving SERMON preached
our Selves, our Intereſts, and our Inclinations, and who have ſeen the Iffue, it muſt for
ever paſs for a moft vain, ill-grounded Undertaking..
See if I muſt not treat it in this manner, or be obliged to lay an unfupportable and
everlaſting Weight of guilt and infamy on fome of our Fellow-Subjects, who muſt
encourage, and invite, and promiſe to affift this ſtrange Attempt.
·
may
And it not as foon be believed, that a Prince, declining faft in Years; wafted,
perhaps, a little in Underſtanding, by a long, cloſe, and fixed Attention to Affairs of
great Importance and Variety, and by moſt conftant Labours of the Mind, as well as
by a long luxurious Courſe of Living- -vain and ambitious beyond all Example
pleaſed to hear, and capable of believing the groffeſt Flatteries—is it not full as eaſy
to imagine, that ſuch a Prince might be, for once, infatuated, and form moſt wild De-
figns- as that a Multitude of Men, (for without Multitude the Attempt would be
but Madneſs) born in a Country of Great Liberty, profeffing the Reformed Religion, and
bound to their Sovereign by many facred and tremendous Oaths, fhould now, againſt
Humanity and Honour, againſt all Senfe of Confcience, Duty, and Religion, join with
our implacable and moſt inveterate Enemy, to bring them all to Defolation and De-
ſtruction, and fill the Land with Miſery and Blood?
It would be Matter of Thanksgiving, to have been delivered from fo much Miſchief,
as even ſo ſmall an Army might have done amongſt a People ſo defenceleſs, and ſo ill-
provided to withſtand them; and to have diſappointed an Attempt, that muſt have
taken up
Time, and Men, who would have been employed much better in another
Place; and which might poffibly have interrupted the Publick Operations for a Seafon,
and confequently have prevented even the Occafion of affembling here this Day. But
to give Thanks for a Deliverance from within our ſelves, from Men of ſuch unnatural
Wickedneſs, and Malice very near infernal, as thoſe muſt needs have been, who called
for and encouraged this Attempt, is a thing that would have entered laſt into one's
Thoughts, and it may be, not at all, had we not been authentically taught to think ſo.
We have indeed a Party of good Catholicks within us, from whom we neither do, nor
ought to expect leſs than a fecret Inclination to our Enemies at all times; nor leſs than
open Combination with them, when it is ſeaſonable and fafe. But theſe profeſs their
Enmity, and We, in our abundant Lenity, forgive and fuffer them; becauſe they hate
us upon Principles, and muſt deſtroy us when they can; and we are well aware of it :
But that our Liberties, Eftates, Religion, and our Lives, fhould be offered
up by fuch
as profeſs themſelves Reformed, and live among us as our Friends, is a Thing that is, in
Theory, almoſt incredible.
One would, in truth, be fomewhat flower to believe fuch villanous Deſigns could
enter into Peoples Hearts, that this Attempt might not take Effect in any Branch of it;
one of which was, doubtlefs, to create as many Fears, and Jealoufies, and mutual Dif-
truſts betwixt us, as could be towards one another; that we might not know who were
our Friends, whom to converſe withal, nor where to place any Truft or Confidence.
But we muſt blot out all our charitable Schemes, when once we are aſſured in Fact,
that there were many from within, that muſt invite, encourage, and abet theſe Ene-
mies of God, our Queen, and Government, our Laws and our Religion: Upon this
Score, the Bleffing of God upon our Publick Councils, in diſappointing this Invasion,
is made deſervedly a Matter of Thankſgiving.
Our Enemies were, furely, in good earneſt, when they ordered Publick Prayers,
and expoſed their Holy Sacrament in all their Churches, to implore a Bleffing on this
Undertaking; and their High-Priest himſelf thought fit to offer up his Interceffions
with Solemnity, to intereſt all the Saints and Angels in the Enlargement of his Em-
pire, and returning us. again to Spiritual Bondage, by virtue of a Temporal Conqueſt;
of which, it ſeems, they doubted but a little. Want of Succeſs is never fingly to de-
termine
before the QUE EN at St. Pauls
439
termine of the Virtue of Men's Prayers; let God alone (as He alone is worthy) be the
Object, and let the Matter of them be but fit and lawful, and the good Mind intenfe
and fervent in delivering them; the Prayers will then be good, whatever be the Iffue.
But every thing convinces us, theſe Prayers have not; afcended up to God with Favour
and Acceptance; however, I could wish, that, we would learn from them, to be as
zealous in a better Caufe; and be as hearty in our Thanks for our Deliverances, as They
were in earneſt in their Prayers for our Deſtruction. Let them give Thanks whom the
Lord hath redeemed, and delivered from the Hand of the Enemy.
Let us now turn a little to the other Reafon of Thankſgiving, for which we are
affembled here this Day.
X
We had, indeed, formed (at our Eafe) fo many fine Schemes, and drawn fo many
gay Conclufions from the Succeſs that had ſo often attended our victorious Arms, that
finding them flipt away (as it were) from between our Hands, without their imaginary
Fruits, we began to fink into I know not what Spirit of Defpondency; and grew un-
eafy, if not fearful. It is a great Misfortune to a People, this, that they cannot only
not withdraw their Eyes from one unhappy Day, in fo many happy Years; but cannot
be content with doing nothing, (as they wrongly call it) although they in the mean time
fuffer nothing. This Temper may, fome time or other, coft them dear, by forcing
wife and brave Men to precipitate Affairs, againſt their Judgment, and the Reaſon of
Things, whatever the Iffue is like to be.
The Year, the People think, is quite loft, that does not bring the Queen to this
good Place, to render up her Thanks to God for fome great Victory. That, to be fure,
is the Defire of Her's, and all our Hearts; but wife Men mingle with their Zeal and
Prayers, the Confideration of the Uncertainties of War; the ftrange and unexpected
Turns that now and then Affairs take; the many, Accidents (and fometimes very fmall
and inconfiderable ones) that overthrow Defigns laid with the greateſt Prudence, Se-
crecy, and Caution; and break the beſt-concerted Meaſures in the World; and thank
God heartily for what Succefs he gives, but are not over-much furprized, nor grow
impatient at their Diſappointments. All that the wifeſt of the Sons of Men can do, is,
to deſign with Reaſon and Probability; and pitch on Means moſt ſuitable, and likely
to attain their End; but for the Event, that is not in their Hands, nor are they anſwer-
able for it.
The Poſture of our Affairs at prefent, God be praiſed, wants not this, nor any fuch
Apology; the Event has anſwered fully to the End and Means propoſed and uſed:
But had it not, the Overflowings of this froward Humour had not, I doubt, been ſtop-
ped by theſe Excuſes; which yet, are fuch as Reaſon, Experience, and moſt conſtant
Obſervation, furniſh all Men with, that give themſelves leave to conſider.
Theſe Murmurs will be now, it is likely, drowned in the triumphant Noiſe and Joy
of Victory; and many Difcontents, and ill Affections, quieted by our Succefs. But
they who love their Country, would be better pleaſed to ſee Men act upon more rea-
ſonable and noble Principles; that the Eaſe of Governours, and Peace of Governments,
might not depend on any fuch Uncertainties; nor They who with inceffant Labours,
watch for our Security at home; nor They who with the greateſt Toils, and utmoſt Ha-
zard, fight for us abroad, owe all their Praiſe, their Honour, and Reward, if not their
Safety, to fuch doubtful Iffues as the Defeat of Armies, and the taking ftrong Towns,
needs muſt be. In a word, they are unhappy Miniſters of Peace and War, who pleaſe
not by their Prudence, Vigilance, and admirable Management; by their Activity, their
Courage, Conduct, and all other proper Qualities, without Events aftonishingly happy.
Let us ſend home thefe barbarous Maxims to the Eaſt, from whence, in an evil Hour,
we fetched them.
I
Not
440
A Thankſgiving SERMON preached
Not to fatisfy our Impatience, or any looſe, ill-grounded Expectations, but to fulfil
fome great good Purpoſe of his own, it hath pleaſed God, this Summer, to crown Her
Majefty's Arms, and thoſe of Her Allies, with great Succefs, againſt an Army, ftrong
and numerous, and made up of the Flower of Armies, with all the Advantages of
Ground and Situation, under a General of great Fame and Honour, excited to make
good the mighty Hopes conceived of him, by the Preſence of the moſt illuſtrious Sons
of France, who were to owe their future Glories to his wife Leffons, and his brave Ex-
ample; no fmall Encouragement to great and noble Undertakings.
To meet theſe Difficulties, nothing. under God, but British Forces, were believed
fufficient. And what will not they perform, infpired with a good Caufe, and with the
Love and Honour of their Queen and Country, and led by a Commander whom they
love to follow, ſtill to reſcue from the extremeft Hazards? And gladly they will hazard
every thing, to preſerve a Life with which each Soldier of the Army thinks his own is
faſt bound.
By lucky Accident, they were at this time more in heart than uſually in other Bat-
tles, by having at their Head a Princely Captain, whom both in giving Orders, and in
'Heat of Fight, they might, not unhappily, miſtake for their own; fo that they ſeemed
to have their General always in their Sight, when yet that General was, as ufually, in
every Place of Danger.
It is no great Wonder, when we hear fuch Forces, fo Commanded, under fuch Ex-
citements, ſhould march to meet their Enemies with as much Speed as others fly from
them; and when they had overtaken them, ſhould quite forget their painful Day, and
fight as if they had rifen from Sleep, and all Refreſhment. Had not the Sun gone down,
Exceſs of Courage had deftroyed them like an Enemy; no Human Strength could have
ſuſtained fuch Toil much longer; too many of them muſt have funk under the La-
bours of Purſuit and Slaughter: The Darkneſs was as needful to thoſe brave Men, as
to the Fugitives before them.
Let the Vain-glorious Enemy now diſpute the Victory: The Princes, and the Ge-
neral, and the Army fled, except a few that ſtood, to make the others Flight ſecurer.
Thofe Princes would not have begun their Race of Honour with miſtaking of the Goal,
and running backwards, had Victory been with them; nor would the General's Orders
have been dated from a Place, where neither Friends nor Enemies expected him, but
by Neceffity; nor will the wiſeſt After-game convince us, that his Flight was not pre-
cipitate and forced; nor will the Army be diminiſhed leſs than many Thouſands of their
Morning-Number; nor fhew any other Spoils and Enfigns of a Victory, than what will
rather look like bought or ftoln, than won in Field of Battle.
May all your Enemies, GREAT QUEEN, for ever be Victorious, in this
manner.
The Place I ſtand in, forbids me all Approaches even to fufpicious Praiſe, much more
to any thing beyond: nor am I under any manner of Temptation to fupply, with want
of Truth, what ſhould be fitly faid on this Occafion. I fhall be greatly wanting to my
Subject; but that, at this Time, is more like to opprefs than fail me: But, happily for
me, the Nation has prevented me; I cannot ſay a Word upon this great Occafion, but
I'muſt borrow it from fome of our moſt zealous, faithful Fellow-Subjects. Whether it
were to felicitate her Majefty, upon the Unanimity of her Army; which, though made
up of many Nations, did yet, with an ambitious Emulation, all confpire in trying who
ſhould do their Duty beſt, and merit moſt her Favour: Or whether, in particular, to
give due Honour to that High-born Prince, who, by his noble Ardour, and adventrous
Courage, hath convinced them, He deferves to be the Hope (but diftant Hope) of Great
Britain;
3
before the QUEEN at St. Paul's.
44i
Britain; and who (they promiſe to themſelves) ſhall Forty, Fifty Summers hence, lead
forth their Armies, if this Triumphant Reign fhall leave their Children any Enemies
Or whether it were to repeat the important Labours of Her moſt valiant, wiſe, and
fortunate Commander, crowned with freſh Laurels every other Year; becauſe, it ſeems,
they wither fafter in our unkindly Climate, than elſewhere: Or, the incredible Ala-
crity with which the Officers and Troops advanced to fight the Enemy; the Strength
and Fury with which they fought; and their Humanity, in fparing thoſe that could be
fpared. How, in a word, Her High Allies, as well as Her brave Subjects, have be-
haved themſelves, just as they would have done, could but Her Majesty (encompaffed
with good Angels) have been by, to look upon, to animate, to praiſe them, and re-
ward them.
I fhould but very faintly reiterate what the Publick Voice hath faid already on this
glorious Action; but it becomes me juſt to mention theſe Particulars, becauſe they were
the happy Inſtruments it pleaſed God to uſe, in giving that Success, which brings us to
His Temple at this Time, to render him our hearty Praiſes for it.
Happy for us, in the next Place, if we could as clearly difcern, that we had
put our
felves into the Way of deferving thefe great Favours, as that we wanted them, and
have received them! But there the Text will ftill be true, and truly applicable, as in
its firſt Inſtance—Not for your fakes do I this, faith the Lord God, be it known unto
you. We may, perhaps, imagine, that theſe Bleffings are the Rewards of our Deſerts;
when we forget our felves, we may imagine fo; but when we look about, to ſee where
theſe deferving People live, whether in Court, or Camp, in City, or in Country, we
ſhall change our Minds, and find we are preſerved, as Sodom and Gomorrah might have
been, by fome few righteous Ones among us; or bleffced, when we are bleſſed, not to
Reward, but to Encourage us to do our Duty.
Did ever Fair Example ſhine at Court with fo fmall Influence! where every body
praiſes what they will not imitate; as if they were fo dazzled with its Luftre, that they
rather loft their Way, than were directed by it; fo that it ferves only for greater Con-
demnation. Was ever leſs Devotion in Peoples Hearts, if we may judge by its Ap-
pearance in their outward Geſtures in the Houſe of God, where even good Breeding
will not now fecure that good Behaviour, Silence and Attention, which Confcience of
the Heavenly Prefence, Reverence of the Place, and Company, and Hope of Benefit,
did heretofore fecure? I ftand not on Externals, though I know Externals muſt pre-
ſerve the Subſtance of Religion; Religion is itſelf much out of Countenance, and lofes
Ground continually : Mens Practices, though very naught, do hardly now belye their
Principles, their Principles are fo corrupted. The moſt important Truths of Chrifti-
anity, are attacked with Infolence and great Rudeness by every petulant and idle Wri-
ter; its Ordinances all decryed, and huge Contempt poured daily on its Minifters. This
impious Licence may, for the preſent, pleaſe a ſceptical and looſe Generation; but it
can never long go well with ſuch a People. Was ever Infidelity and Breach of Matri-
monial Contract more avowed, and lefs regarded? Theſe perjured People are not now
at the Trouble of concealing their Falfhood from their injured Partners; it ſeems to
make part of their Pleaſure and their Greatneſs, to wrong them openly, in Defiance
both of God and Man: It is Modeſty, and almoſt Virtue in this Age, to be a little
fecret in thefe bad Affairs.
It may be, it is not thought a Fault with fome, to paſs away the whole Life, as it
were, in one continued Revel; nor that Excess is any thing, becauſe it is the Work of
every Day; nor that intemperate Gaming will be reckoned for, though it confume more
Time than all the Bufincfs of their Life befides takes up; and more Money than ever
was expended by them on good Uſes; nay, though it hinder them from giving up
thofe Hours they owe to God, and ſerious Recollection, and doing thoſe good Deeds,
which
3 R
442
A Thanksgiving SERMON preached
which they would otherwife incline to do, and which their Abilities and Condition
would require of them. This is a growing Miſchief with us, and daily waftes up
many noble Patrimonies, defrauds the Servant of his Wages, and the Labourer of his
Hire, i. e. occafions much Injustice, by difabling Men from paying their juft Debts,
and doing what becomes them, even to Wives and Children, and Relations, and De-
pendants. The
great Oppreffion and Corruption of Offices and Officers, will be a leſs
difputed Matter of Complaint, for the Cry thereof is great and general; nor does it
much avail us, that the Maſters are as honourable and virtuous as Elisha, if their Re-
tainers are as greedy and corrupt as Gebazi was.
The Time would fail me to ſpeak to theſe, and many more Abominations, that al-
moſt over-run the Kingdom: But I may not make it a Day of Reproach and Shame,
which is a Day of Gladnefs and Thankſgiving. Only behold the Difpofition we are in
to receive theſe mighty Favours at God's Hands! And think how truly it is faid, Not
for your fakes do I this, faith the Lord God, be it known unto you.
But what we thus deny to our unworthy felves, we may, I hope, in part, attribute
to the Cauſe that we defend. We cannot be too little affured of our own Deferts, nor
yet too much, that we have Juftice on our Side; for without this, we could not feek
the Bleſſing of God, nor hardly thank him for Succeſs. But if a Cauſe can be juſt,
without any Scruple or Exception, fure, it muſt be the Maintenance of the Common
Liberty; and an Attempt to hinder haughty and ambitious Spirits from being in a Con-
dition to oppreſs the World about them, and enſlave them at their Pleaſure: And all
the World has Reafon to be concerned for a Caufe that pleads its Liberty, and to re-
joice in the Succeſs that lays Impediments in the Ways of fuch deſtructive and unjuſt
Defigns. And I do not know that God can be invoked to affift an Enterprize more
pleaſing in his Sight, than the refcuing People from this dreadful Yoke, or the prevent-
ing them from coming under it. If any one thing be more his Hatred and Averfion
than another, it muſt needs be the Author of unjuſt deſtroying War, that diſturbs the
Peace of Mankind, and brings fuch Deſolation on the Earth, and fuch an endleſs Train
of all forts of Evils with it. Succeſs againſt fuch Undertakings, is what we may moſt
reaſonably aſk at God's Hands; as reaſonably expect, but yet not claim as due by Pro-
miſe, or in Juſtice; and when it follows, may as reaſonably prefume it comes from God,
as any thing befides; and confequently may with all Sincerity return Him Thanks for
it: And could our Gratitude but equal the Favours we have indeed received at God's
Hands, we ſhould, in this Point, be a very happy People.
But all that we can do, with refpect to what is paft, or to prepare our felves for
what we farther want, and pray for -will be, to attend to what the Prophet fays in
the following Words, Be aſhamed and confounded for your own Ways, O Houfe of Ifrael,
and let the Senfe of all theſe undeferved Favours, lead us to Confideration, and Repen-
tance, and Amendment.
II. We ſhould, if we confider Matters rightly, be content rather to be reclaimed from
Sin, and delivered from its Puniſhment by rigorous and fevere Inflictions, and the heavieſt
Judgments, than not at all. But we ſhall be without Excuſe, if we neglect to uſe his
Mercies to this End and Purpoſe; and take Occafion from them to reſolve to qualify
and fit our ſelves a great deal better for them, than we heretofore have done. This is
fo plain and fitting for us to do, that I will truft it to the Reafon of every one who
hears me, without any farther Exhortation; and conclude, as I believe you will be all
well pleaſed to do with me, with offering up moſt earneſt Prayers to God, That He
would blefs the QUEEN, and Us, with a long and profperous Reign over Us;
Crown her with his Goodneſs; mark out her many Years with Triumphs and Succeffes,
I
like
before the QUEEN at St. Paul's.
443
;
like to this, as long as War fhall be found neceffary; and with all the ſweet Felicities
of Peace, when Peace fhall be our Bleffing: That He would favour all the good De-
figns She has to make us happy, in Love and Unity with one another, in promoting
Piety and Virtue, difcouraging Profanenefs, Immorality, and all ungodly Licenſe; in
the Diſtribution of equal and impartial Juftice, the Exerciſe of Clemency and Mercy
in their proper Seafons; in fecuring our Trade Abroad, and encouraging it at Home.
And that all Her Subjects Care may be, to ſecond theſe fo good.Deſigns, by doing each
their Duty in their feveral Stations, by laying afide all Enmities and Differences with
one another, renouncing to all Parties, and uniting to promote the Publick Welfare,
in which all private People will be fure to find their Account at laft. And all this for
the fake of our adorable Redeemer: To whom, with the Father, and the Bleffed Spirit,
be all Honour and Glory, now and for evermore. Amen.
A SERMON
444
{
A
SERMON
Preached before the QUEEN, at
St. James's, on SUNDAY, April 17. 1709.
St. MATTH. Chap. XXVII. Ver. 24, 25.
When Pilate faw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a Tu-
mult was made, he took Water, and washed his Hands before the
Multitude, faying, I am innocent of the Blood of this just Perfon;
See ye to it. Then anſwered all the People, and faid, His Blood be
on us, and on our Children.
T appears from thefe Words, and from the other Evangelifts, that Pilate had really
taken fome Pains, and uſed fome Art, to deliver Jefus from the Perfecution of
the Prieſts, and the Rage of the People, who fought, he knew not why, his
Death; or at leaft, to acquit his Hands of him. He heard his Accufation, and
found it frivolous, and therefore bad them-take him, and judge him according to
their own Law, John xviii. 31. He examined himſelf this dangerous Criminal, and
yet declared—he found no Fault in him, even after he had owned he was a King,
Luke xxiii. 4. He put them in Mind himſelf of the Cuſtom they had, to have a Pri-
foner, whomſoever they defired, delivered to them at the Feaft of the Paffover; and
would have had them chofen this Jefus, King of the Jews, to be the Man, John
xviii. 39. He puts Barabbas in Nomination with him, one that was a Murderer and
a Robber, in hopes (it is likely) to determine them, by fuch an odious and abhorred
Compariſon, to pitch on Jefus. There were, no queftion, many Malefactors in their
Priſons; Barabbas had many Accomplices that lay bound with him (Mark xv. 7.) for
Inſurrection; but he alone had committed Murder in that Infurrection: This Villain,
above all, he fixes on, to ſee if that could move them to prefer Jefus of Nazareth to
him, for the Priſoner that he muſt deliver. He took occafion of fending him to Herod,
from hearing he was a Galilean, to rid his Hands of him; and when that would not
do, he again befpeaks the Rulers and the People, Luke xxiii. 14. You have brought this
Man unto me as one that perverteth the People, and behold, I having examined him be-
fore you, have found no fault in him, touching those things whereof you accufe him; no,
nor yet Herod : for I fent you to him, and lo nothing worthy of Death is done unto him;
I will therefore chaſtiſe him, and releafe him. No Judge could fhew more Marks of a
Difpofition to acquit a Priſoner, than Pilate here fhewed: One may ſee him almoſt
partial in the Matter, not againſt Juftice, (for he knew there was no Caufe of Death
found in him, and knew befides they had delivered him for Envy) but againſt the out-
rageous Clamours of the Priefts and Multitude. It is not unlikely, that his very fcourg-
ing him was with a merciful Intention of fparing his Life: He would proceed to fuch
a Puniſhment, to countenance their Accufation, or to appeaſe their prefent Rage;
thinking, it may be, they would now be fatisfied, and in fome little Space of Time re-
lent,
the QUEEN at St. James's.
445
lent, and fall from their violent Refolution of having him crucified. He fuffered him
to be crowned with Thorns, and expofed in a Purple Robe, and with a Reed for a
Sceptre; and to be treated with all the Scorn and Infolence, and cruel Contempt, that
a Pretender to thoſe Honours might expect from a mad Multitude and common Sol-
diers, encouraged to it by their Governors and Leaders. This Ufage, and this Sight,
he thought might fatiate their Ill-nature, and move fome Pity in them; and when he
found it would not operate that way, but that they cried out Crucify the louder, he
faid (what he ſhould have remembred) Take ye him, and crucify him, for I find no
fault in him: but then they were more inftant than before, and cried out
be Crucified.
-Let him
,
>
When Pilate faw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a Tumult was made-;
when he faw that all the artful Pains which he had taken, all the Excufes he had
made, the Arguments he had uſed, the Diverfions and Delays he had fought out, and
the downright Denials he had given them; when he faw that nothing of all this
would do, but that the Multitude was more incenfed, and that inftead of hearkning
to him, and remitting ſomewhat of their Claim, they were rather like to force him
from his Hands, and fall into Sedition, and fet the City in an Uproar-
he fubmitted to thoſe Fears that fometimes fall, in fome degree, upon a brave and
conftant Man, that has to deal with Multitudes-
; he yielded to the fad Ne-
ceffity of giving up the Life of a private Perfon to the Tranquillity and Safety (as
he imagined) of the Publick. But that he might do it with the better Grace-
He took Water, and washed his Hands before the Multitude, Jaying, I am innocent
of the Blood of this juft Perfon; fee ye to it. He would intimate hereby, that as that
Water cleanfed his Hands from any Foulneſs they might have contracted, ſo ſhould
the Proteftation of the Force and Fear he was under, declare him innocent, and
acquit his Confcience of whatever Guilt might be contracted by the Death of that
juſt Man, who ſtood before him, and whoſe Blood they refolved to have. He, for his
part, declared him Innocent, and was willing to let him go; they, by their Clamours,
dreadful and importunate, and threatning Tumult and Confufion, would not let him
act as Reaſon and Juſtice bid he ſhould; let it therefore lie on them; let them, who
by their mutinous Rage, obftructed Juſtice, anſwer for it-See ye to it. There is
therefore in theſe Words, First, A Declaration of Chrift's Innocence, and of his own;
and a throwing the Guilt of his Condemnation on the Prieſts and People———I am in-
nocent of the Blood of this just Perfon; fee ye to it. Secondly, The Prieſts and People
take this Guilt upon themſelves, His Blood be on us, and on our Children.
Firſt, Pilate here acknowledges Chrift's Innocence, in calling him a juſt Perſon.
Judas, who had attended on him during his publick Miniſtry, came and acknowledged
he had finned, in betraying the innocent Blood. Pilate's Wife had ſent to him, when
fitting in Judgment, to warn him of having any hand in puniſhing that just Man, and
now himſelf declares he was a juft Perfon. Thus St. Peter reminds the Jews, That
they denied the Holy One, and the Juft, and defired a Murtherer to be granted to them,
Acts iii. 14. Thus St. Stephen tells them- they had flain them which shewed before
of the coming of the Just Onc, of whom they had been the Betrayers and Murtherers,
Acts vii. 52. And thus faith Ananias to Saul-The God of our Fathers hath clofen
Thee, that thou shouldſt know his Will, and fee that Just One, and ſhouldft bear the Voice
of his Mouth, xxii. 14. Pilate, it is likely, by juft Perfon, underſtood no more than
a Man that was innocent of the Crimes of which he was accufed; but his Wife muſt
uſe that Word providentially; and furely by divine Appointment, fince you ſee the
Scripture-writers uſe it ſo remarkably, and with particular Diftinction, as including the
whole Character of Chrift: And thus St. Peter, Chrift hath once fuffered for Sins, the.
Just for the Unjust, that he might bring us to God. Nor did the Malefactor know how
3 S
great
446
A SERMON preached before
hath done nothing amiſs-
great a Truth he spoke, when he faid of Christ, then dying by his SideThis Man
nor did he understand how neceflary it was, that what he
faid ſhould be exactly true. He did not know his Neighbour-Crofs was then the Altar,
on which the Prieft was offering up himfelf a Sacrifice to God for the Sins of all Man-
kind; that this his Fellow-fufferer was the Lamb of God (fpotlefs and innocent) that
taketh away the Sins of the World: And that fuch an High Prieft became us, was in-
deed not only fit, but abfolutely neceffary for us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, and
feparate from Sinners not feparate from them in his Life; for he converfed moft
freely with them, and came to call them to Repentance; nor feparate from them in
his Death, for he was numbred with them; but ſeparated fo, as never to be tainted or
defiled with Sin. Such an High Prieſt befitted our Condition; we ftood in need of
fuch an Holy One, to offer up fuch a ſpotlefs Sacrifice, not for his own, but for our
Sins, to propitiate. God, procure our Pardon, to enter into Heaven, and there to make
continual Interceffion for us; which he could not have done, had he at any time
done any thing amifs; had he not been in all Refpects, what Pilate could but mean in
Somea juft Perfon.
But if he were thus Juft, why will this Governor condemn him? How can he join
thefe two Things, I am innocent of the Blood of this just Perfon, when he is going to
doom to Crucifixion that juft Perfon? If he be Juft, why must he die? If he muft
die, though Just, how fhould the Man be innocent who condemns him to Death?
He was not innocent, his Declaration only fhewed he would be innocent if he could:
A little would ferve to wafh his Hands, but all the Waters in the World could not
clear his Confcience of all Guilt, who being a Judge, would yield to the Clamours of
an incenſed Multitude, and condemn a Man he thought was innocent, and could not
forbear declaring fo with all Solemnity. A Magiftrate is certainly obliged, though un-
der never fo great Conftraint and Fears, to do what he fhould do were he at perfect
Liberty. This appears from hence, that a Man's Heart reproaches him with having
preferred his own Security, against Juftice, to that of an innocent Perfon. He has
faved himself, but he has loft another, whom he was certainly obliged to fave: He
has bought his own Security, at the Expence of another's Ruin; this he likes not, this
he wiſhes had not paffed. This is a hard Leffon to learn, to prefer another's Safety
before our own; but they who undertake great Offices, and to do publick Juftice, to
right the Wronged, and to help the Oppreffed, muft undertake them on thefe Hazards:
They are not exprefs Conditions, but still implied, becauſe the End of their Inftitution
could not conftantly be anſwered without fuch Venture. But what muft Pilate do in
fuch Diſtreſs? Muft he hazard, for the fake of a poor defpifed Stranger, the Peace
and Quiet of his People, the Confufion of his Government, it may be Lofs of it, and
Cafar's Favour, rather than yield to the united Defires of the Rulers and the People to
give that Stranger up? It is eafy for People that are at Liberty, and unconcerned, to fit
at home and determine what is juft and right, and fit to be done, and to pronounce
decifively upon
the Matter. But it is another thing to find one's felf under Fears and
great Conftraint, encircled with Crowds of a mad, enraged People, excited to Clamour
and Importunity by their leading Maſters and Rulers, both Secular and Spiritual, whofe
Skill and Judgment they depend upon, and whoſe Authority is facred with them. A
firmer Man than Pontius Pilate might in fuch Circumftances go aſide out of the way
of ftrict Justice, and be patient of fubmitting to what his Confcience could not chufe or
like, were he at Liberty: His Cafe will therefore always meet with Pity, though with
Blame alfo. The Jews, he had tried upon more Occaſions than one, were the moſt
furious, obſtinate, and mad Multitude he had ever ſeen; quickly provoked, diſpoſed to
Mutiny, and ready to take Arms, and hard to be appeafed and quelled when up: And
he now faw them in a Difpofition to tumult; the moſt forward, kindled into a ſtrange
Rage,
I
the QUEEN at St. James's.
447
Rage, and ready for Revolt upon their Leaders Call, which a little farther Provocation
might endanger. And how would he anſwer that to Cæfar, to endanger the fetting
on Fire a whole Province, for the fake of a little Injuftice, or keeping his Confcience
quiet? Would thofe Excufes do at Rome? Would they not bid him learn of Caia-
phas That it was expedient that one Man fhould die, rather than the whole Nation
be endangered? I do not mean by this, to excufe this Man for complying with the un-
reaſonable and wicked Importunities uſed with him, to condemn a Perfon whom he
declared juſt and innocent; for he fhould have ventured himſelf in fuch a Cafe. And
if Governors and Magiftrates fhould be intimidated by Threats and Clamours, or great
Hazards, to do what a Crowd of People fhould demand of them, without Regard to
the Rules of Right and Juft; if they ſhould not be obliged to undergo all Hardflaps in
executing their Offices, every body fees there would be an end of Order, Peace, and
Government, and all Juftice. If once the Multitude could find their Decrees fubmitted
to, either to the ſparing, or taking away the Lives of Men, they would never want
Occafions of affembling, there would never be wanting wicked and defigning People
to ſtir them underhand to make their Clairns, according as they found it to their Pur-
pofe. The greateft Criminals might go unpunished, and the greatest Innocence might
not be fafe. Barabbas here was to be pardoned, and Christ must be condemned, only
becaufe the Multitude will have it fo. Theſe are the unavoidable Confequences of a
Magiftrate's yielding to the Clamours of a Rout, against his Rule, and against his Con-
fcience; and if they have not oft appeared, it is becauſe the Magiſtrates have not often
yielded: Whenever they do, it will be fo; and there can be no greater Demonftration
of their Obligation to venture all Extremities, rather than condemn the Innocent, or
acquit the Guilty, than the Certainty of this Confequence, That without fuch Venture,
the Multitude will always govern, and no Man could, though never fo innocent and
deferving, call his Eftate, or Liberty, or Life his own, But this is alſo an equal De-
monſtration of the Excellence and Ufefulness of Government, and that juſt and ſteddy
Magiftrates do very well deferve the Honours and the Recompences that are beſtowed
upon them.
Why, what
Crucify him.
Nothing can be of worfer Confequence either to Governors or private People, than
that the Affemblings of the Multitude for any publick Purpoſes ſhould be encouraged.
The Noife of the Waves, and the Madneſs of the People, are alike dreadful, and alike
dangerous, where they are let in; and deaf alike to all that you can offer -I find no
fault in this Man. No matter what you find, let him be Crucified.
Evil bath be done? Then they redouble but their Cry,Crucify him,
Some cunning People have fometimes ferved a prefent Turn by theſe Affemblies, and
done no great Miſchief; and when they are (as we call it) on our Side, we apprehend
no Danger: But all the Odds in the World are on the other Side; nor can the wifeft,
the moſt artful, powerful, and moſt popular Managers, warrant Security and Quiet for
an Hour, their Heads are fo quickly turned, and their Paffions raiſed ſo eafily. They
are therefore to be repreffed by all the Means imaginable, and the Men that practice on
them, to be held in the greateſt Sufpicion; they ſhould be treated like thoſe who break
up Damms, let in the Seas, and drown a Country.
The Rulers and the Priefts who ftirred up the People to afk Barabbas, and deftroy
Jefus, were certainly much more to blame than the People themſelves, who made
themſelves their wicked Inftruments. But the People were not without Fault, to be ſo
ftirred up; they have Reafon and common Senfe, as well as their Betters; and there-
fore fhall anfwer to God for the Neglect or Abufe of it; they know they have nothing
to do with publick Matters; they know they may not lie, nor accufe wrongfully, nor
bear falfe Witneſs againſt their Neighbour; and yet they put themfelves in the way
of doing all theſe Things, when they fuffer themſelves to be excited by crafty and de-
figning
?
448
A SERMON preached before
figning Men, to appear in Crowds, and publickly accuſe, defame, and call for Juſtice
againſt Perſons that may, for ought they know, be innocent and blameleſs, and only
traduced by common Fame and uncertain Rumours. What did thefe People know of
Christ our Lord, but what was worthy of their Love, Efteem, and Admiration ?. That
he taught Men to ferve God, and love one another; that he cured Difeafes, healed
Sickneſſes, caft out Devils, and ſpent his publick Life in going about and doing good.
But becauſe the Priefts and Rulers were againſt him, perfecuted him, and fought his
Life; and told them I know not how many frightful Stories of the hazardous Condition
their Church and State was in, and what a dangerous Man this Jefus of Nazareth was,
and that Things could never poffibly go well whilſt he was ſuffered to preach and live
they ſwallow all, and join their Voices with their Leaders, and defire his Crucifixion;
although they knew themſelves no Harm of him, and heard the Roman Governor (who
had no Intereſt in his Life or Safety) tell them again and again-be found no fault
in him.
.
The Accufations of the Priefts and Rulers would not have moved Pilate, it is likely,
to condemn Chrift; nor was it what the Multitude affirmed or proved, that moved
him; but it was the Rage, the Importunity, the Madneſs of their Cries, that threatned
Mutiny, and Tumult, and Confufion of all, that conſtrained this fearful Governor to
give him up, even when he was determined to let him go. Shall not the People an-
fwer for this? Shall all this go for nothing? All this fhall not excufe the Governor;
but it ſhall make the People guilty, in part, of Chrift's Blood. They fhould have had
their ſhare of Guilt, had they not willingly cried out- -his Blood be upon us; they drew
it on themſelves, by calling for his Death, becauſe their Leaders bid them. See ye to it
will not excufe Pilate; but yet the People muft fee to it. I have (faid Judas to the
Prieſts) betrayed the innocent Blood-What is that to us, faid the Priests to Judas, fèe
thou to that. But yet it was to them, and a great deal too, to have encouraged, dealt
with, and agreed to hire that treacherous Servant. Miftake not; all that have their
Hands in Wickedneſs, muſt fee to it; but fome have more, and fome have leffer ſhare
in it; but every one too much by all, and every one muſt anſwer for it. It is not fo
eafy to waſh out Guilt, as to contract it, or excufe it lightly. Pilate may fay,-I
was conſtrained by Fears of Tumult and Diſorders, that might poffibly have occafioned
the Death of many People; But that will not excufe him, even to himſelf. The Peo-
ple may fingly plead, they were but in the Crowd, and did as others did, call out for
Crucifixion, without Malice, but as they were bid. Our Saviour told Pilate, that he
who had delivered him into his Hands, had the greater Sin; but he, it feems, had
fome; and therefore was not excufed for yielding to the Importunities of the Prieſts and
People, againſt his Confcience; nor could the People be excufed for calling for his Cru-
cifixion, and putting that Force on Pilate. Thus Men bring Guilt on one another,
but do not clear themſelves. What therefore may be learned in general from hence, is,
that as Magiſtrates, and fuch as undertake to do Juſtice, are to hazard their own Secu-
rity, in order to diſcharge their Duty, and are not to be diverted from the right way,
by Hope or Fear, by Favour or Affection, nor will be excufed by Threats and dreadful
Apprehenfions-ſo neither muſt the People be excited by ſubtle and deſigning Men
to gather into Routs; nor when they are there, be inſpirited to meddle with publick
Matters, defame, complain of, or accufe the Names that are put into their Heads, nor
call for Juſtice, or the Removal of they know not whom; for, however little Miſchief
they intend, they will be partly guilty, and partly anfwerable for what follows: They
make themſelves Inftruments of mutinous, unjuft, and cruel Spirits, and muft give Ac-
count, as far as they are concerned, in bringing their ill Deſigns to paſs. There is no-
thing better for all private People, than to ſtudy to be quiet, and do their own Buſineſs,
and let the publick Affairs be managed by thoſe who are to look after them, and muſt
I
be
the QUEEN at St. James's.
449
be anfwerable for their Miſcarriage. For fee, in the next place, into how great Mif-
chief theſe poor People of the Jews were plunged, by being fo unneceffarily bufied, and
underhand excited by their Leading Maſters, this Day to destroy Jefüs. The Governor
would fain have let him go; this they are bid to exclaim againſt moſt furiouſly;
and when this would not do, he calls for Water to waſh his Hands of the Blood of that
juft Perfon
-and in a very folemn Manner (fince Guilt muft lie fomewhere) would
lay it upon Them, whofe Importunity forced him, unwilling, to condemn him-See
ye to it. This they immediately took upon them. -His Blood be upon us and our
Children- -the Guilt and Puniſhment be ours, if there be any due to this Defire of
his Crucifixion; let us, and our Pofterity, bear the Smart, and the Burthen of this
Fault, if it be any. This was a great deal more than they intended, when either Zeal,
or Idleneſs, or Curiofity, drew them out in the Morning: They came, it is poffible,
only to be Spectators of what would happen that Day; but there, by Artifice, they
were drawn in to be Petitioners, that Chrift might die; this they fubmitted to: And
now when Pilate would not be guilty of the Blood of one whom he thought innocent,
they will needs fubſtitute themſelves and their Pofterity in his ſtead. This, you ſee,
was plainly what they came not to engage in ; but fell into by a moſt unfortunate Op-
portunity, by being in ill Company, and in a Place where they had nothing to do. But
what a ſtrange and dreadful Imprecation was it? Their Law had told them, God
would certainly require the Blood of innocent People at the Hands of thoſe who ſhed
it. And did the Man whofe Blood they were about to fhed, appear as yet guilty?
They knew they had fought out Witneffes, and had fuborned them to fwear againſt
him; but after all, their Witneffes did not agree, fo that he could not legally be found
guilty; and every Man is innocent, till he be legally found otherwife. What is it then
but Murther, to defire his Death, even when the Laws acquit him? And yet theſe
Rulers who fuborned theſe Witneſſes, (which yet could not come home) call for the
Guilt of Blood upon themſelves and Children. Well! it is a fatal Thing to engage
at firſt in any bad Deſign; for Men are uſually fo proud and ſtomachful, that they
will ſtick at nothing, rather than that Defign fhould be defeated, and their Credit
loft. They will make good one Calumny by another, rather than be accounted
Liars and Defamers; they will follow an Accufation with Subornation, rather than
fall from their Point, and are more careful of their Honour than their Confcience
They could not at firft believe they ſhould hazard ſo much to bring about their
Purpoſes; but when they are once in, they will hazard all, rather than not go
through.
But, fuppofing the Prieſts and Rulers were truly perfwaded, that Jefus deferved by
their Law to die, and fo would take it on themſelves, although they wanted legal Evi-
dence; yet, how could the Common People be thus fure that he deferved to die? And
yet they take his Blood upon their Heads, as if they had, every Man of them, known
him truly guilty. One may believe the Judge is uncorrupt, the Jury very honeſt, and the
Witneffes true and faithful; and yet a Spectator would be loth to take the Blood of a con-
demned Perfon upon his Head, for fear fome Fraud, or fome Miſtake, might be com-
mitted. What Madneſs is it to concern our felves in Cafes that belong not to us? But
why, of all Things in the World, will Men engage their Children and Pofterity in
Curfes, upon Suppofition? Why will they venture and defy the Vengeance of God up-
on themſelves and Children, upon the Certainty of the Guilt of a Perfon, whom nei-
ther Witneffes could prove, nor the Judge would pronounce-Guilty? Man is a ſtrange
Creature when enraged! A ftrange Creature, when under the Power of any Paffion!
He thinks of nothing but the preſent Inclination, whether to love or hate; and he will
gratify it, at what Expence or Hazard foever. Theſe People mean not certainly the
3 T
Mifchief's
450
A SERMON preached before
i
Miſchiefs that they imprecate, but only mean to be believed in what they then affirm
but they ſpeak to one who hears; they call on God, who will not be fo dealt with,
but who will ſometimes take them at their Word, and hear and grant thofe Prayers
that will undo them; but evermore with Juftice. He will visit the Sins of the Fathers
upon the Children, to the third and fourth Generation of them that hate him, and he will
fhew Mercy to Thouſands of them that love him, and keep his Commandments. This is a
plain Proof, that there is ſuch a Relation betwixt one Generation and another, that
Good or Evil is derived from one to the other, i. e. temporal Profperity or Misfortune;
(for it touches not the Soul, we may be fure) and both thefe Things are for the Encou-
ragement of Virtue and Religion, and grounded on that ſtrong Affection Parents bear
to Children, and to the inextinguiſhable Defires they have of doing them good, and
warding them from Miſchief. You love your Children, and your Childrens Children,
and even as far as you can fee in Wiſhes; and would do almoſt any thing to procure their
Welfare- -Keep the Commands of God, and live virtuoufly, and walk holily before
him; for, He ſhews Mercy to Thousands of them that love him, and keep his Command-
ments: And if you would not bring Evil upon their Heads, nor caufe them to be vifi-
ted in Wrath, ſee that you live your felves in all Obedience to his Laws
-for he will
vifit the Sins of the Fathers upon the Children, to the third and fourth Generation of them
that hate him.
We may well preſume upon
the Juſtice of God, in thefe Proceedings, without ſtay-
ing to ſpeak to it now; and therefore it need not ſeem ftrange, if God did really pu-
niſh the Children of theſe enraged Petitioners for Chrift's Death, as they defired, and
deferved he ſhould. The fore Calamities That People endured for many Years, both
before and after the Deſtruction of Jerufalem, might every Day affure them, that God
heard the dreadful Imprecation of their Parents and Anceſtors-His Blood be on us,
and on our Children. And truly, whoever will confider the Fortune of that
poor Peo-
ple, from that unhappy Hour to this, throughout the World, will think that Cry is
ftill, as it were, in God's Ears. They have been miferable beyond Expreffion; they
have been for more than Sixteen Hundred Years without City, without Temple, with-
out High Prieſt, without Sacrifice, without Prince; fcattered through all the Countries
of the World, and low, depreffed, and in Subjection every where: They own them-
felves, that they are under God's Difpleafure; but they fee or acknowledge not the
Cauſe. They are as obftinate, and fierce, and virulent againſt the Name of Chrift, as
their Forefathers were againſt his Perfon; fo that they vindicate the Juftice of God's
Inflictions, by continuing on the Cauſe, and by their outrageous Infidelity, will not let
his Anger ceaſe from them: They tread in their Father's Steps, they are not only as
wicked and immoral as they were, but by continued Blafphemies and Impieties, ftill
perfecute and crucify the Son of God, and draw his Blood upon their Heads: They are
the moſt inveterate Enemies of Chriſt and his Religion through the World. All Peo-
ple elſe are Enemies by Intereſt and by Accident; but the Jews by Principle and
Choice. The Followers of Mahomet fpeak moſt reſpectfully of Ifa, i. e. Jefus, and
fay, that he ſhall fave his Followers, if they are fincerely faithful, and obedient to his
Precepts, (and he who ſays otherwiſe, ſays wrong.) The Jews blafpheme and curfe
his facred Name on all Occafions, not mentioning the ſame with Decency or Patience.
Should we not reckon this one of the heavieſt Curfes that can fall upon them? Is not
this Blood moft fearfully upon them and their Children? Let us learn at leaſt from
hence, not to give way to Rage, nor in our Madneſs, involve our Children and Pofte-
rity in dreadful Curfes and Misfortunes. Let every Generation bear its own Burthen;
fufficient to the Day will be the Evil thereof; our Sins will entitle them to enough of
God's Vengeance, if he be not very merciful: Remember not Lord our Iniquities, nor
the
the QUEEN at St. James's.
451
the Iniquities of our Forefathers, neither take thou Vengeance of themis what we
afk daily of God. We must not therefore afk him by our Imprecations, to remember
us in vifiting our Children: But this we do, when we devote them to his Wrath, if
fuch and fuch Things are not true; which yet, perhaps, are falſe, at leaſt uncertain;
or if we are not innocent, when perhaps our Hearts affure us we are guilty, but we will
ſay theſe Things to ſerve ſome preſent Turn, and fave our Credit...
Theſe Uſes we may make of this Part of the Relation of our Saviour's Paffion. Each
Day of the following Week, will furniſh us with more and more Confiderations of the
like Nature; nor can we uſe the Time and Hiſtory better, than to confider the Parti-
culars attentively, and make as proper Applications as we can of each of them to our own
Condition.
Few People but approve of Pilate's Care and Purpoſe to acquit our Lord, becauſe
he thought him innocent; and all condemn his falling from that Purpoſe, though un-
der Force and Fear, and apprehenfive of great Dangers. And who is there among us
all, that has not made as honeſt and becoming Refolutions of diſcharging well his
Duty in this and that particular Occurrence; yet has not fainted upon Trial, yielded,
if not to Fear, yet to fome other Paffion that has overborn his Reaſon, and made him
act againſt his ſettled Judgment? And yet has faintly tried to waſh his Hands in Inno-
cency, by ſome poor Plea or other, in Excufe of what he did; that hardly ſatisfies
himſelf, much leſs impartial Standers-by. As cafily as we part with it, we are very
much made for Innocence; we would have every body think us in poffeffion of it; we
are perpetually trying to recover it to our felves, by framing Excuſes for what is paſt,
that will, we think, diminiſh from the Guilt; and I believe, whatever be the Purchaſe,
we think we have given up too much for it. Hear the Conclufion of this Man. Theſe
very Jews, to whofe outrageous Cries he gave up Chrift, within a few Years, com-
plained of his Government to Vitellius, then the Prefident of Syria, who put him out,
and fent him to Rome to anfwer for his Mifdemeanours: But before he reached that
Place, Tiberius Cæfar died, and his Succeffor fent him, by way of Baniſhment, to
Vienne, a City of France, upon the Rhone; where he lived deſpiſed and miferable
for five or fix Years, and then diſpatched himſelf by his own Hands. I dare not ven-
ture to affirm how far the Divine Vengeance was concerned in purſuing this unhappy
Man; but I dare venture to affirm, that had he followed but the Dictates of his Rea-
fon and Confcience in releafing Chrift, whom he thought innocent, the Accufa-
tions of the Jews of other Faults, had been lefs burthenfome to his Mind; Cæfar's
Diſpleaſure, and his Baniſhment, would have been born much better. Let but an
exiled Man carry his Innocence and a good Confcience with him, and he will find his
Native Country, Wife and Children, Friends and Comforts, wherefoever he fhall go,
i. e. he ſhall be happy in the Approbation of God above, and of his Heart within,
which will be to him every thing he ftands in need of. To make an end-
end-What-
ever we think of Pilate, we are fure that we our felves at leaſt are innocent of the
Blood of this juſt Perfon; and are amazed to think how dreadful a Curſe theſe People
laid themſelves under, by calling for the Blood of Christ upon their Heads. But nei-
ther are we innocent our felves of the Blood of this juſt Perſon; for they were cer-
tainly our Sins, the Sins of the World, that did not only want, but occafion the Death
of Chrift; nor do we lefs than call for the Blood of Chrift upon our Heads, when we
are impious and incredulous, and obdurately impenitent. The Scriptures fpeak of ſome,
and Chriſtians too, that crucified the Son of God afreſh, and put him to open ſhame;
that trod him under foot, counted the Blood of the Covenant an unholy thing, and did de-
Spite to the Spirit of Grace, Heb. vi. 6. x. 29. when yet that Son of God was feated
on his Throne in Heaven, out of the Reach of human Infolence and Injury. In a
word,
İ
452
A SERMON preached before, &c.
word, that Blood will be upon our Heads, whether we call for it or no, if (as the Scrip
ture ſpeaks) our Hearts are not beforehand sprinkled with it, from an Evil Confcience,
i. e. without a Figure: That precious Blood of Chrift which was fhed upon the Crofs,
to merit and obtain Redemption and Forgiveneſs of our Sins, upon Diſcharge of the
Condition called for at our Hands, namely, our Faith, Repentance, and Amendment;
will be fo far from doing it, without Diſcharge of thofe Conditions, that it will raife
our Guilt and Condemnation to the higheſt Pitch, and make it much more tolerable
for Pilate, and theſe Priefts and Governors, and poor unhappy People, in the Day of
Judgment, than for us.
:
1
A SERMON
(
453
A
SERMON
Preached before the Right Honourable the LORDS
Spiritual and Temporal, on January the 30th 17%.
at Westminster-Abbey.
2 KINGS, Chap. VIII. Ver. 13.
And Hazael faid, But what is thy Servant, a Dog, that he should do
this great Thing? And Elifba anſwered, The Lord hath fhewed me,
that thou shalt be King of Syria.
T
HE King of Syria being Sick, and hearing that a Prophet of the Lord
was at Damafcus, fent his Servant Hazael with a very liberal Preſent to
him, to enquire of God, by him, whether he ſhould recover of his Diſeaſe.
To this great Meffenger, the Prophet anſwers- Go ſay unto him—Thou
that he shall furely die.
Lord fhould live, when
Or does he rather ſay,
may'ft certainly recover; howbeit, the Lord hath fhewed me,
Would the Prophet here have Hazael tell a Lie, and fay his
he was certain he would die, being told fo by the Prophet?
You will hardly be fo ill a Courtier, as to tell the King, that he ſhall die; you will
leave fo unwelcome a Meffage to any other, and rather chufe to fay, Thou may'ft cer-
tainly recover, although I know very well he never ſhall recover, and tell you fo, from
God. This Senſe is natural and eafy enough; but the Words do not ſay it expreffly
enough. Or, does he bid him ſpeak what is certainly true, if ſupplied with ſomewhat
that Eliſha knew very well? Go and fay to your Prince, Thou may'ft certainly recover,
i. e. from this Diſeaſe, which in itſelf may not be mortal, Howbeit, the Lord hath
Shewed me, that he fhall furely die, i. e. by another Hand, after another manner; the
former Part Hazael was to ſay to Benhadad, the latter Elifba faid to Hazael, and each
of them was true; for Benhadad might have recovered, had not Hazael murthered
him. If therefore we refpect the Distemper only, it was true that the Prophet bad him
ſay- Thou mayft certainly recover; but if we refpect the Event, which God ſaw,
and diſcovered to the Prophet, it was alſo true, that the King ſhould certainly die.
What the Prophet faid, was certainly true in this Senfe, and we ought to take the
Words in any other Senſe, than ſuch a one as would make a holy Prophet the Author
of a Falfhood. When he had ſpoken theſe Words, the Prophet fettled his Counte-
nance ſo ſtedfaſtly, looked fo long and fo intenſely upon Hazael, that he was perfectly
confounded; and the Prophet himſelf burft into Tears. Hazael afked him, What it
was that occafioned ſuch a ſtrange Emotion, and why he wept? The Prophet told
him, it was to ſee, and confider, what mighty Miſchiefs he, in time, would bring up-
on Ifrael, how he would fire their ſtrong Holds, flay their young Men with the Sword,
daſh in pieces their poor Infants, and rip up their Women with Child. To whom Ha-
zael replies, in the Words of the Text-But what is thy Servant, A Dog; that he
ſhould do this great Thing? How is it poffible that I, fo mean and inconfiderable a
Perfon, ſhould ever attain to the Power of doing fo great Matters, as you mention? But
3 U
had
454
A SERMON preached before
1
had I now the Power, how were it poffible I ſhould commit fuch barbarous and fuch
brutiſh Outrages? Account me not, I pray thee, a Dog, and fo inhuman. But Elisha
anfiered The Lord hath fhewed me, that thou shalt be King of Syria. Thou wilt,
by that Means, have the Power of doing all this Evil, and thou wilt change thy Mind
with thy Condition; and then thy Will, will be the King of Syria's Will, which is, to
increaſe their Power, and to opprefs their Neighbours to the utmoft; the inveterate En-
mity that has long reigned betwixt the Syrians and the Jews, will be revived, and car-
ried by thee to Extremity.
This is the Meaning of the Text, as in Conjunction with the Hiftory. The Ufes
of which, that I intend to make at prefent, will be theſe
First, To obferve how little we know our own felves.
Secondly, To confider whether this Prediction of the Prophet, that Hazael ſhould
be King, will in any fort excufe the Means he uſed to make himſelf fo. And,
Lastly, To make what Application may be proper.
First, It is very obvious to obſerve from hence, how little we know our own ſelves.
There is no Reaſon to think that Hazael was not in good earneſt, when he would not
have the Prophet (nor could himſelf) believe he ſhould, in time, commit fuch Cruel-
ties as were foretold. But Man is a reaſonable Creature, and as God has made him
capable of doing it, fo he has obliged him to confider the Confequences of his Actions,
and how naturally one thing follows from another. He who breaks down the Banks
of a great Water, occafions the Overflow, it may be, of a great deal of Ground, the
Fall of a Houfe, the Death of a Child, and the Drowning of many Cattle. Who would
have thought it? is a Fool's Excufe, when things follow naturally, clofely, or eafily:
And I intended no fuch Miſchief, is as idle, where Miſchief was likely to follow, though
ſhould intend never fo well. Men muſt intend well, and do well, if they would
be fafe, where Intentions have no immediate Influence on the Action or the Agent.
you
Now if a Man who actually intends well, fhall yet be anfwerable for the Mifchief
that is done, by an unreafonable and fooliſh Choice of Means improper and unfit, we
may conclude, he fhall be accountable for the Evil he does, without any good Inten-
tion: If therefore I intend to do no Miſchief, I muft not put my felf in the way of
doing any; I muſt avoid the Occafion and Temptation of entring into Evil, if I would
be innocent. A Man knows his own Mind and Purpoſe at prefent; and fees how he
ſtands determined by his preſent Circumſtances; he is now innocent, and likes the be-
ing fo; and finding it fo full of Eafe and Satisfaction, he refolves fo to continue: Let
him then take heed of falling into any fuch Courſes, as will infenfibly draw him off
from theſe good Purpoſes, and put him, by degrees, on Practices he now abhors. He
is now poffeffed with a religious Fear of God, and fanctifies his Name, and reverences
his Word, and will prophane neither; and fhould you tell him, he will be a common
Swearer, an impious, execrable Man, and great Blafphemer, he would think it ſtrange,
if not impoffible; his Heart abhors ſuch Thoughts, he trembles at the Mention of fuch
wicked things, and would account himſelf a Dog, if he ſhould do them. But in a
little time, he falls into fuch Company, as make no Difficulty of theſe Matters, and
accuſtom him to bear them patiently, at leaſt in others; and he himſelf ventures a little,
and then draws back with fome Confufion; remembers the good Principles that his
religious Parents at firft inftilled into him, and which his good Inftructors after culti-
vated carefully; and thefe Rebukes keep him fome time in tolerable Order; he will
not refolve to leave the Company, but will not be infected by it, nor be led by their
Example: But theſe Reſolves laſt not long in full Force, but yield, 'by little and little,
to Cuftom and Example; he takes in time the Manners of his Company, and becomes
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455
1.
the Man, whoſe Image frightened him not long ago. So People ftare at new Fashions,
and are, at firſt, amazed. to fee things fo fantaſtical and odd; but, by degrees, they
fall into them, and become in a little time Standards themſelves. There is no trufting
to one's preſent Mind and Reſolution, though never fo reaſonable and good, unleſs we
will take all Care to avoid the Occaſions and Temptations that will naturally change
them. It is no great matter, to refolve never to fall into the greatest Sins that Men can
poffibly commit; the very Apprehenfion of thoſe huge Enormities, is hard and painful
to the Mind; but, however, a Man is not fecure, who puts himſelf into the Way that
leads thither, though it be at great Diſtance: The prefent Defigns of Men have, it
may be, no Eye or Tendency to fuch and fuch a Confequence; but, however, Men
muſt look to it; for when we are once out of the right Way, every Step we take, leads
us but into farther Wandrings, and we know not whither we are going. If one had
afked of David, Whether he, when he firſt gazed on Bathfecha, in her Retirements,
intended to murther the braveſt Man he had in his Kingdom, in the most vile and
treacherous Manner, with all the Circumſtances of Baſeneſs, Folly, and huge Wick-
edneſs, that can attend an Action? Doubtless, he would have thought it utterly im-
poffible, that fuch a Villany ſhould have ever found any Place in his
great Heart. But
yet we fee, that that adulterous Look ended in that ſtrange Murther, and left a lafting
Blemiſh upon his Life and Honour. In vain do People think of going just to fuch a
Pitch of Wickedneſs, and no farther; either their Hopes of gaining ſome farther Secu-
rity, or their Fears of falling into greater Danger, engage them in new Deſigns, whoſe
Confequences they attend not to: And when a Man is gone but half way, he looks
back, and wonders often how he got fo far; but new Neceffities arife, and carry him
on he knows not whither; he commits a new Offence to juſtify a former, and this will
require another to fecure itſelf. A Man no more knows where to ſtop in Sin and
Error, than he can afcertain his Charge in either Law or Building; he is trained on by
new Emergencies, beyond what he at firft propofed or defigned, and all is loft, he
thinks, if he goes not through with it; and at laſt, he finds himſelf almoſt undone,
who at firſt intended a little Pleaſure or Convenience only, or to do himſelf fome Juf-
tice, or his Adverſary a fmall Ill Turn. We find how we are carried unaccountably
from Things good and innocent, to Things indifferent, and from thence to Things fuf-
picious, and that want Juſtification; and from thence to fuch as will not bear it; and
much more certain are theſe wicked Confequences, when we begin with Things un-
lawful; the wiſeſt Man alive cannot tell where he is to end. The Heart is deceitful
above all Things, who can know it? We have therefore no Security againſt our falling
into the very Depths of Hell, but our great Care and Watchfulneſs to keep within the
Bounds of Innocence at firft, and to confider well the Confequence of every Action and
Undertaking, and to truft but little to our preſent Mind and Reſolutions, which every
little Accident can and will alter. One may fafely fay, no wicked Man did ever intend
to arrive to the Pitch he is now at of Wickedness; but gradually, and by Progreffion,
one Sin drew on another; and he has loſt his firſt Views; the Purpofes of his Heart
were daily changed by new and fatal Opportunities, that, from one Commiffion to a
nother, drew him to the miferable Point he is now at. A Man can hardly think he is
capable of doing what, in a little time, he will glory in having done; and juſtify to
Death, what he once would have chofen to die, rather than do. So little do moſt Peo-
ple know what they are made of; or rather, what their Paffions may in time make
them, without the greateſt Care, Jealoufy, and Watchfulneſs over their own Hearts
poffible; fo little do they obferve (till it be too late) how they are trained from one
thing to another, till they are loft, out of their Depth, and paſt returning.
It cannot enter into Hazael's Heart, that he ſhould ever have the Power of doing
all theſe mighty Miſchiefs, that the Prophet read in his bad Lines and Features with a
!
Flood
456
A SERMÓN preached before
Flood of Tears; or, that, fuppofing he were able, he should ever incline to commit
fuch cruel and unheard-of Outrages: Rip up the teeming Women, and daſh againſt
the Stones the innocent and unprovoking Children; forgetful of his Mother, and the
Pledges of his Love at home! How can fuch inhuman Thoughts be harboured in a
Heart of Fleſh, which is the Seat of Pity? The Prophet told him, That he ſaw he
would be King; and home he goes and kills his Maſter, reigns in his ſtead, and is pro-
vided of the Power, to do the great foretold Miſchiefs. Had the Prophet told him,
That his Sorrows broke out at his Eyes in the violent manner he faw and was con-
founded at, to think how treacherouſly he would murther his Prince, that truſted him
with the Care and Confervation of his Health and Life, it is probable he would have
bid him look for better Things from him, and not account him ſuch a faithleſs Villain;
and yet there were not many Days betwixt his doubting how he could attain the Power
of doing fo much Miſchief, and his attaining it, by murthering of his King. When
mounted on his Maſter's Throne by theſe bad Means, what fhall he do to turn the
Peoples Minds from confidering how he came to fit there, but divert them by a War
abroad, revive the ancient Enmity betwixt the Syrians and the Jews, renew their an-
cient Claims, and fhew the greateſt Zeal to recover the Honour they had lately loft by
Benhadad? And to this purpoſe, he muſt breathe nothing but Slaughter, the total ruin
of the Jews, the firing their Strong-holds, daſhing their Infants on the Ground, rip-
ping their Women up with Child, and putting all their young Men to the Sword, to
extirpate utterly the Race of Ifrael, and rid the Syrians of their old inveterate Ene-
mies. And thus his Power infpires him with the Will of doing what he could not
bear to think on, when the Prophet told him what would come to paſs; and this hard
Will is neceffary now, he fancies, to maintain his Power. His Ambition at firſt dipped
his Hands in his Maſter's Blood; and then to wash out that foul Stain, he muſt do
fomething popular; he muſt be cruelly zealous againſt his Countries Enemies, to di-
vert his People from enquiring after their Prince's Death; and make Atonement for his
Treachery, by barbarous War, and by prodigious Slaughters. Thus does one Depth of
Sin call for another, and he who trufts his Heart with one unlawful Paffion, will find
it will make way for many other Gueſts; fuch as he never thought of entertaining.
Let his Example therefore inſtruct us to look to our felves, whilſt we are innocent;
never ſo to truſt the Refolutions of our Mind, though reaſonable and calm, as to neg-
lect the natural and the neceffary Means of preferving our felves in that good Temper;
never to think our Opinions will not alter with our Circumſtances; believing our felves
Temptation-proof, only becauſe we know we ſhould be fo, and intend to be fo; but
carefully avoiding all fuch Opportunities as may betray us into thofe Commiffions,
which we now abhor; and never to believe it is within our Power to ſtop at this Of-
fence, or this Degree of Sin, and go no farther. If we will make this Ufe of Hazael's
Example, we may go on to confider, in the Second Place, Whether this Prediction of
the Prophet, that Hazael fhould be King, and ſhould commit thefe Cruelties, will in
any fort excuſe the Means he took to become King, or the Cruelties he committed
when he was fo.
1
There is Reaſon enough to think, that his having been anointed by Elijah, (or de-
figned for King by God's Appointment, with that Ceremony) and his being now told
by Elifba that he would, one Day, be the King of Syria; there is Reaſon enough to
think, that this preparatory Unction, and this Prediction, did indeed occafion Hazael
to diſpatch his Mafter. Ambitious Minds, void of the Fear of God, are forward enough
of themſelves to undertake the greateſt Wickedneſs, to attain their Ends; but when
they have the Countenance of Infpiration on their Side, then nothing can diſcourage
or reſtrain them; they look upon themſelves as called by God, to execute his Purpoſe
and
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457
and Decree; and Negligence is Difobedience, and Delay is Sinful; they do not think
they are to wait for God's Time, or expect that He ſhould bring his Purpoſes to paſs,
by Means and Methods of his own; but will precipitate Events, and fancy every thing
is lawful, that conduces to the End declared by God. Jehu was thus anointed by a
Prophet, and told by him, what he ſhould do to all the Houfe of Abab; but this was
all, not by the way of foretelling what Jehu would incline to do, and do, when he
was King; but by the way of Command, to inform him what God exacted of him, and
expected from him. Thus faith the Lord God of Ifrael, I have anointed thee King over
the People of the Lord, even over Ifrael; and thou shalt fmite the House of Ahab thy
Mafter, that I may avenge the Blood of my Servants the Prophets, and the Blood of all
the Servants of the Lord, at the Hand of Jezebel. There is no reading this without the
ſeeing a Commiffion from God, to put his Orders in Execution; and he accordingly
deſtroyed the Houſe of Ahab, and became King in his ſtead. And though he was not
himſelf a good Man, yet he was God's Inftrument, to avenge the Blood of his Pro-
phets; and fince he received ſo poſitive and expreſs Orders to do what he did, I do not
ſee, but he was ſo far blameleſs, as he performed the Will of God, without going be-
yond his Commiffion; if he exceeded that, and indulged any thing to his Ambition,
cruel Inclinations, or particular Revenge, he will want to be juſtified, though what he
did might alſo tend to the bringing about the Purpoſe of God, in rooting up the Houfe
of Ahab. As Men may certainly be guilty of cruel and revengeful Purpoſes, known
to their own Hearts, though they are profecuting a juft Caufe, by juft and legal Me-
thods. But this, I imagine, was not Hazael's Cafe; the Prophet had anointed him for
King, or he was told by him, that he ſhould certainly be King of Syria; the Mean-
ing of which, was one of theſe two Things; either that God had pofitively defigned
he ſhould be King; or forefaw what Courſes he would take to make himſelf ſo, and
foretold the Event, that ſo it would be, without declaring the Means. If the Prophet
anointed him King, and defigned he ſhould be fo; yet he did not bid him take the
Courſes he took to become King. He anointed him beforehand; but he was to ex-
pect God's Time, and to wait till it could innocently come to pafs. But if God only
thewed the Prophet, that Hazael would be King of Syria, (which the Prophet alfo
told to Hazael) then can we only conclude fafely, that God well knew, and forefaw
that Hazael would take the Courſes to become King, which he after took, without di-
recting, or approving them. And as God's Prefcience did not by any means neceffitate
or conſtrain him to fuch Murther of his Maſter, fo neither will the Prediction of the
Prophet juſtify his coming to the Crown by any fuch Means; any more than Chriſt's
foretelling Peter's Denial, and Judas's Treachery, either compelled them to it, or will
excuſe them for it. God (who fees whatever Motives can occur to our Minds, and fees
how they will influence and move) gives us our Liberty to chufe; and knows which
way we ſhall incline, and what our Choice will be, and can communicate the Event
without conſtraining, or having conſtrained our Wills to make fuch Choice; and hav-
ing this Foreknowledge, can determine theſe Events to ferve fuch and fuch Purpoſes,
as he ſees fit; and yet the Blame ſhall lye upon the Inftruments, if they either propoſe
a wicked End, or pitch on wicked Means to compafs a good End by. We know that
God intended to puniſh the Revolts and Apoftacies of his People, and that by the
Hand of Hazael, who, when King of Syria, would commit unheard-of Cruelties,
and execute the fevereſt Vengeance on the Jews. How eaſily may this be turned?
That God foreſeeing what Courſes Hazael would take to become King, and when ſo,
would turn his Arms on Judah with the greateſt Violence; whofe Sins and Provoca-
tions were ſo high, that he would fuffer them to fall into his Hands, and let them fee
and know he uſed him as an Inftrument to puniſh their Offences. This he might
justly do, yet Hazael be exceeding faulty, as well in the Courſes he took to become
King,
3 X
458
A SERMON preached before
King, as in the Cruelties he would exerciſe againſt the Jews, when he was fo. It is
worth our while to obſerve what God fays, Ifa. x. 5. O Affyrian, the Rod of mine An-
ger, and the Staff in their Hand is mine Indignation. I will fend him againſt an hypo-
critical Nation, and against the People of my Wrath will I give him a Charge to take
the Spoil, and take the Prey, and to tread them down like the Mire of the Streets. How-
beit, he meaneth not fo, neither doth his Heart think fo, but it is in his Heart to deftroy,
and to cut off Nations, not a few. And in Ver. 12. Wherefore it fhall come to pass, that
when the Lord hath performed his whole Work upon Mount Zion and Jerufalem, I will
punish the Fruit of the flout Heart of the King of Affyria, and the Glory of his high
Looks. From whence we may conclude, That God fometimes makes ufe of Inſtru-
ments to bring his purpoſe to effect, who yet know nothing of it, but are guided by
Motives of their own, and ſhall be puniſhed for fo doing: They fhall account to God
for the Means they choſe to attain their End, though both the Means and End were
effectual to bring about his Will. The Prefcience then of God, and the Prediction of
the Prophet, will not excufe Hazael for murthering his Mafter, to become King, nor
the Cruelties he committed, when fo, although thofe Cruelties were the Executions of
God's juft Anger. Let us call to Mind the Example of a much better Man than either
Hazael, or Jehu, and that is David. This Man had alſo been anointed King by Sa-
muel, the ſtanding Prophet of his Time; and that before a great Company, and Saul
was known to be rejected of the Lord; and yet he would not put his Hand to forward
his Advancement to any thing unlawful; though he had all the Advantages and favou-
rable Opportunities that any Man could wish for, to put him in Poffeffion of God's Pro-
mifes: Saul was his declared Enemy, and fought his Life on all Occaſions, by ways
unworthy of him, and fuch as would, if any could, have juftified Revenge; and God
had twice delivered Saul into his Hands; but David ſtill neglected all his Opportuni-
ties, and would not become a King by any Means that were not ſtrictly juſtifiable.
He left it to God, to fulfil his own Promiſes, by his own Methods, and at his own
appointed Time. If God defigned him for a Crown, (as by his Unction, certainly he
did) let him fo place it on his Head, as it fhall fit fecure and eafy. He will be inftru-
mental to fulfil the Will of God, in making him a King, no otherwiſe, than by doing
what was fit to do, had there been no fuch Promiſe. The Lord fhall fmite him, or his
Day fhall come to die, or he shall defcend into Battle and periſh- But God forbid that
I ſhould fmite the Lord's Anointed. See how a Man of God fulfils a Prophecy! The
Words and Anointing of Samuel were as certain, pofitive, and determinate to David,
as the Unction of Elijah, and the Prediction of Elisha, were to Hazael, that he
fhould be King. But the different Heart makes different Application: The Grace and
Fear of God, and Senſe of Duty and of Honour, ſuggeſts to David, he muſt ſtay for
God's appointed Seaſon, who beſt knows how, and when to accompliſh his own Pro-
miſes; whereas the other takes the Word juft from the Prophet's Mouth, and gives it
to his own ambitious Heart to read and explain; that Heart replies immediately,
The God that gave this Oracle, had given him now the Opportunity of making it
good. He fhall be King of Syria- -How can that be, whilft his Mafter lives?
When is his Mafter nearer Death, than when exceeding fick? And how much leſs of
Life could he ever loſe than now? He muſt not now be wanting to himſelf. Go tell your
Maſter, the Prophet ſays, from God, that He shall live; but then remember that he
fays, You ſhall be King, i. e. He is to live as long as you pleaſe. Is not this to fulfil
the Will of God, fince it is impoffible you ſhould be King, whilſt your Maſter lives?
Let any Paffion that we have, pretend to explain God's Promiſes, and it ſhall certainly
give them its own Turn; it will fulfil the Will of God, according to its own. A Pro-
miſe therefore of fomething to come, without a pofitive Command of God, to execute
it in ſuch a certain manner as is expreffed, will never juſtify a Man's fulfilling it by any
other
the HOUSE of LORDS.
459
other Methods than what are ſtrictly lawful, and juſtifiable of themſelves. Which
brings me again to this Conclufion, That the Prediction of Elisha, that Hazael fhould
be King of Syria, will not juſtify the wicked Courſes he took to become King; nor
the being foretold what Cruelties he ſhould afterwards commit when King, juſtify thoſe
Cruelties.
Let us fee, in the Laft Place, What Ufe may be made, by the way of Application,
of what hath been faid on theſe Heads. This Day reminds us of the huge and num-
berleſs Calamities the People of this Kingdom underwent from a long, unnatural War
amongſt our felves; and reminds us of an everlaſting Stain laid on the Honour of the
Engliſh Nation, by adjudging their King to Death, againſt all Reaſon, all Law, and
all Example of our Anceſtors. Nor did our Miſeries end here; that execrable Day
concluded only the Misfortunes of that Prince; neither his Friends nor Enemies ceaſed
to ſuffer with him. Such an atrocious, impious Fact, muſt (as it did) call for a world
of Lives, and Liberties, and Confiſcations of Eftate, and other cruel and vexatious Op-
preffions of our Countrymen; and laid the Foundation of fuch an Enmity, as is, I
fear, to laſt for ever. Had any one foretold what Miſeries theſe unhappy People would
bring upon their Nation, I make no doubt, they would have foon returned, with Ha-
zael, But what is thy Servant a Dog, that he fhould do theſe great Things? Yet many
now alive remember well they did them. I fee no Reafon to believe, that any fingle
Man, or Party whatever, could intend, at firſt, the Evils they afterwards effected; but
I do not fee that this is fo much an Excufe for Them, as a great Matter of Caution to
Others, how they at firſt embroil Publick Affairs, and enter on the weighty Matters of
reforming Church or State, though with a good Defign enough; but yet by Methods.
illegal and untryed. It is only God can fay to the Waves, Hitherto fhall ye go, and no
farther; and fo it is with the Madness of the People; a little Matter will inflame a Mul-
titude, when a Hundred Men that can render a Reafon, fhall not be able to difmifs
it peaceably: Small are the Beginnings of the greateſt Miſchiefs. But Men are at their
Liberty to act, and ſhall anſwer for their Actions; and they are capable of ſeeing, and
confidering Confequences, and therefore are accountable for the Neglect of doing ſo,
when Miſchiefs follow probably, and eafily, and commonly. The good Intentions of
the Heart will fecure the Heart; but I am not able to fay, with Certainty enough,
how far they will authorize the Executions of the Hand; even thofe that follow im-
mediately, and are in Nature and Reaſon fitted to obtain the End of thoſe Intentions:
But in this I will be confident, that the firſt good Intentions will not reach all fubfe-
quent Acts that are not good. Let fome, of all Conditions, be preſumed to enter on
our Wars with good Intentions, and others with no bad ones; (and I think he muſt be
much a Stranger to our Story, that will not allow of this) though we may ſee, perhaps,
that the Virtue and Innocence of theſe People's Intentions may go far to juſtify thoſe
Actions that were immediately influenced and governed by thofe Intentions; (although
thoſe People ſhould have been miſtaken;) yet who can fee, that thoſe prime Intentions
are to juſtify all the Actions that followed, with all their ſeveral Confequences? I hope,
with my
whole Heart, that all who had occafion to re-confider the Share they had in
bringing fo many dreadful Miſchiefs on their Country, when they thought of repent-
ing, fought not for Juftification from their firſt honourable and good Intentions, but
had Recourſe to the fure Sanctuary, the Mercies of God in Jefus Chrift. I own it, I
would rather cover, if I could, than exaggerate the Offences of our Fathers, with re-
ſpect to the Wars that occafioned fo much Mifery to this Nation, and laid the Foun-
dation of that fatal Tragedy, that makes this Day fo hard to be forgotten, and fo hard
to be remembred. But I would not that any one ſhould think he came off innocent,
becauſe he entered on at firſt with laudable Deſigns and good Intentions; without con-
fidering
I
460
A SERMON preached before
cx
confidering how many intervening Acts were cruel and outrageous; and how he was
trained on by flow, inſenſible Degrees, to be inſtrumental in abundance of barbarous
and brutal Facts; to embrue his Hands, at laſt, in innocent and facred Blood, and to
the enflaving of his Country. Whoſo ſhould then have faid" You are now angry
"with ſome needlefs Ceremonies, which yet are fewer, and more decent, than ever
"were in uſe in any Chriſtian Church, protected by the State, for thirteen hundred
Years, and without which no Chriſtian Church did ever yet ferve God in Publick,
"that we know of: Angry to have a Form of Publick Prayer preſcribed, proper and
"fuited to the Wants of all Chriſtians, though you may uſe what Liberty you will in
<< your retired and Family-Dovotions betwixt God and you: And to get rid of theſe fo
eafy Impofitions, you will pull down all the Fences that fecure the Chriſtian Faith
"and Difcipline, and let in Wolves and Foxes, that will prey upon the Chriſtian Flock,
"and bring in Herefies, and all licentious Errors, and drive away the Shepherds that
"ſhould feed them and fecure them; extirpate an Order that is as old as Chriſtianity
" within this Kingdom, and put a Thouſand and a Thouſand Families to feek their
"Bread in defolate Places. You are now jealous and tenacious of your Liberties; but,
by the Courſes you are taking to fecure them and enlarge them, you, in time, will
come to take them away from every one befides, and loſe them your felves at laſt :
"You will raiſe Armies, and become their Subjects; make to your felves Captains of
"Thouſands and Ten Thoufands, and fubmit your Necks to their imperious Orders;
cr
τε
cc
"
cr
cc
involve your Country in Defolation, and much Blood; trample down ancient Honour
"and Nobility; diſperſe your Princes into Foreign Countries, where they ſhall take
xc up Manners that you hate, Maxims deftructive of your Liberty, and a Religion you
"abhor: Vanquish your King; deprive him of his Friends and Servants; diſtreſs him
to Diſtraction; force him to fly into the very Arms of Miſchief, from whence you
"will redeem him, like a Slave, to caft him into Fetters of your own; defpoil him of
"his Regal Honours; ſtraitly impriſon him; and put him to the Sword at laſt, (Horror
<c to think
upon !) with all the Circumſtances of Scorn and Ignominy poffible. Theſe
are the Things that you will do to fecure your Chriftian and Civil Liberties." Whofo
ſhould thus have Prophefied, ſhould certainly have had my Text returned
upon him-
What is thy Servant a Dog, that he fhould do thefe great things? Yet theſe great Things
were done; and in a manner worſe than I expreſs them. Theſe great Things are paſt
and gone; and I have no worſe Purpoſe in remembring them, than to adviſe, that all
who had no Hand therein, fhould be as careful to avoid all manner of Occafions of
Evil, as they, we think, ought to have been, who were the moſt concerned in them.
I apprehend no Cauſe of Fear, and therefore know not how to give any Caution of fal-
ling into thoſe enormous Crimes, that make this Day the blackeſt in our Kalendar, ex-
cepting One, with which I never dare compare it: But there is need of all imaginable
Caution, that People do not readily engage in Matters of Importance, eſpecially relating
to the Publick, trufting to good Intentions only, and to the Mind they are at pre-
ſent in, without confidering what may follow. Mens Heats are Heats of Zeal at firſt,
benign and gentle; but little Accidents may raiſe them to a hot confuming Fire, that
may, in time, deſtroy their Neighbours and themſelves. It was the turbulent and reſt-
leſs Humour of private People, and the Conceit of their Abilities, thruſting themfelves
into publick Matters, and ftirring up their Neighbours to complain, and fhew them-
felves uneafy, that contributed a great deal to the Misfortune of thoſe Days that brought
this Anniverſary amongſt us, fo grievous both to Friends and Enemies. And can we
do a better Thing upon it, than adviſe all Men to study to be quiet, and do their own
Buſineſs; to keep within their proper Compaſs; reform themſelves, and all that are
within their Care; but leave the publick Matters to the Hands to which they are en-
truſted; give no Diſturbance to their Management, nor diftract them from attending to
the
I
the HOUSE of LORDS.
461
the great Affairs, on which depends our very Civil Life and Being, by little private Dif-
ferences, and poor Debates, that may be very fafely laid afide for ever; or, at the leaſt,
fufpended for a while, and eafily refumed again, (if there be need) when the
great
Struggle of the World is over, and the Fortune of us and our Poſterity decided.
The Application of the latter Part of the Text, to the Buſineſs of this Day, would
carry me farther than I have either Time or Will to go. Thoſe wicked Men had no Pro-
phet ſent to Them from God, to tell them what great Things would befal them; but
yet there were not wanting Men that undertook to lead them, by the Word of God, to all
the miſchievous Deſigns imaginable. They were not tempted to engage in theſe Affairs,
by any fuch Prediction as Elisha uttered to Hazael; but they found Men, in Prophets
Cloathing, that both excited them, and promiſed them Succefs, in the Name of the Lord.
The Word of God, I own, was never worfer ufed, by furious, ignorant, mifguided
(but ftill I hope, not prophane) Spirits. The Word of God can never contradict his
Will, which is, that Peace and Righteouſneſs, Truth and Goodneſs, fhould for ever
flouriſh on the Earth, and that Men ſhould live in Quiet, Order, and good Govern-
ment, and enjoy the happy Fruit of that good Stock. And whenever you find the
Scriptures leading Men into any Evil, or doing any Miſchief to Mankind, eſpecially to
Government, you may be fure, they are mifapplied, perverted and abuſed.
I fear I have already been too long; but yet muſt aſk the Patience of two or three
Minutes more, to ſay Two Things; which, if the Text ſhould not, the Day will cer-
tainly bear me out in. The firft is this This Day is, through the exceffive Partia-
lity of fome of both Sides, become a Day of great Trial to the Preachers; Talk of the
Duty, Honour, and Obedience of the Subject to the Prince, and you are thought by
fome, to preach away the Peoples Liberties, and make them Slaves; Talk of the Peo-
ples Liberties, and you are opening preſently a Door to Mutiny, Difloyalty and flat
Rebellion, with fome others. They are both of them, God be thanked, in the wrong;
and the Truth is (like our happy Conftitution) betwixt them. The Crown has many
and excellent Prerogatives, and will, I hope in God, never have lefs or fewer. The
People have great Liberties, and will, I hope, deſerve them, and enjoy them, whilſt
they are a People. Who are thefe People but our felves? All but the Prince are com-
prehended in that Word. The Prieſts muſt preach up, Tribute to whom Tribute is due,
Fear to whom Fear, and Honour to whom Honour. And muft affirm all that St. Peter
and St. Paul have ſaid, of Peoples being fubject to the Powers that are fet over them, for
Good. They cannot elſe diſcharge their Duty; nor the People elfe enjoy the Benefits of
a good Government. But may it not be lawful alfo for the Prieſts to tell the People, in
proper Seaſon, of their Liberties; and ſhew them wherein they are ſo happy, above all
the People of the Earth beſides? That they may underſtand, know how to value, be
careful to preſerve, and to continue to Pofterity, and thank God for, theſe ſingular in-
eſtimable Bleffings. May not theſe Things be faid, without incurring the odious Brand
of ſtirring up Sedition and Rebellion? I know not where theſe Things will end; but it
is plain, they make it harder, than it need to be, for honeſt and fincere Men to do their
Duty on theſe Occafions.
That the Obfervation of this Day is
The other Thing that I would ſay, is this-
become (like the Fifth of November to the Papifts) exceeding grievous and diftafteful to
all Diffenters; as well for the Licence that (they fay) is taken upon it, of inveighing
againſt them; as for the Praiſes that are fo liberally beftowed upon King Charles, which
look, to fome of them, as fo many Exprobrations and Reproaches. As for the Licence
that is taken upon this Day, of inveighing againſt Diffenters, let them who do it,
juſtify themſelves; I am no Advocate for any of them: It was not, certainly, appointed
to become a Day of Wrath and Provocation of our Fellow-Subjects; and, I dare fay,
thofe Liberties have done no Service; nor are they fitted to do any; but, confidering hu-
3 Y
man
462
A SERMON preached before, &c.
•
man Nature, they muſt needs have done fome Miſchief, by Irritation, and the hardning
of Mens Hearts. And though we do not fee fuch Courſes have been taken, by thofe
who were moſt concerned and touched, as wife and good Men might have taken, to
filence theſe Reproaches, and to cauſe theſe Provocations, in great part, to ceaſe; yet̃
ftill theſe furious, bitter Spirits will not be excufable. I verily believe, (and fo do all of
you) that more Men have been shamed by gentle Ufage, than reviled into Repentance
by thoſe they thought their Enemies.
As for the Praiſes that are beſtowed upon King Charles, I know not who ſhould
envy them; nor how a Church of England Minifter can honeftly decline them: He
muſt know nothing of that Prince's Hiftory; He muſt have little Senfe of Juftice,
Gratitude, or Honour, by whom his Memory is not held moft precious. It were a
fmall Thing to fay, no Prince (although his Father was a very Learned one) but I
will fay, no Private Gentleman, did ever underſtand the Conftitution of our Church
better, defend it with ftronger Arguments, adhere to it with more Judgment, adorn
it with better Manners, live up to its good Principles with more Virtue; nor, in Per-
formance of its Offices, fhew more devout and exemplary good Behaviour (I will not, in
thefe Things, except the Queen upon the Throne, nor that Bleffed Saint in Heaven, her
Sifter) than did King Charles the Firſt. No Prince did ever fhew more perfonal Favour
to its Minifters, nor give more Countenance and Credit to its Difcipline and Orders.
And muft I fay, no Prince, but He, did ever die in its Defence, to juftify the high
Efteem we have Him in? I may; becauſe it is ſo true, that they who envy him the
Glory of that Title, upon all Accounts befides, will yet allow he fell a Martyr for the
Church of England. Would not that Church be moſt deſervedly the Hatred and Re-
proach of all the World, that ſhould be ſparing of her Praiſes, and beft Incenſe (but let
it ever be unhallowed Incenſe) to his Memory? Let them (to make an end) take heed,
left fome degree of Guilt be thought to make thofe People cver tender, who are foon
offended with the Praiſes of King Charles the First. And let even Us our felves take
heed, that fuch our Praifes may appear fo well defigned, and be managed with that
good Temper, Sobriety, and modeſt Truth, that they provoke thofe Men to nothing
but Compunction, and Relentings, and Repentance, where thefe Things are wanting;
and both our felves and them, to the Imitation of all thofe excellent good Qualities,
thoſe Civil Virtues, and thofe Religious, Chriftian Graces, that made him appear fo
highly exemplary both in Life and Death.
THE
463
THE
Biſhop of St. Asaph's CHARGE
TOTH E
CLERGY of that Diocefe, in
1710. And
And now
made Publick by his LORDSHIP's Permiffion.
Y
The Tenour of the Oath to be adminiflred to the Church-wardens and Side-men.
OU ſhall Swear, That you will diligently Enquire, and true Preſentment make,
of all Defaults and Offences committed in your Pariſh, againſt the Eccleſiaſtical
Laws of this Realm, to the beſt of your Skill and Knowledge.
So help you God.
&°C.
ARTICLES of ENQUIRY,
To the CLERGY of the Dioceſe of St. AS A P H.
NTENDING, if it pleaſe God, to viſit my Dioceſe this Summer enfuing, I have ſpent a little
Time in confidering how to make fuch Vifitation eaſieſt to my ſelf and Clergy, and beſt to anſwer the
Purpoſes and Ends of it. The Bifhop's Charge, I have obſerved, has ufually been a tireſome Thing
to him himſelf, and taken up much more Time than could be well allowed on fuch Occafions. This
Trouble I have ſpared both my ſelf and you, by fending to you before-hand, what I ſhould have moſt
inſiſted on, had I tarried till the Time of delivering it by Word of Mouth. By this Method, I fhall alſo
avoid the frequent Repetition of the fame Things, in feveral Places, which is truly tedious and uneafie: And
fhall not run the Hazard of faying many Things unfeaſonably, by ſaying them every where, which would be
only pertinent and proper, in this or that particular Deanry. Thus, you fee, I have confulted my own Eaſe;
but not, I hope, without your Convenience alfo. I have faved my felf the Trouble of connecting the parti-
cular Obfervations I have made, which in a general Diſcourſe I muſt have done; but then I have alfo made
it eafy for you to apply what I have faid, to the right Place; and given you more Time to confider and di-
geft, with your Church-Wardens, the Prefentments proper to be made. In a Word, the Method I have
taken, I judged would be moſt convenient for our Common Service, without confidering how it would be
received, as fingular, and unuſual. And yet (that I may not be thought to have chalked out a Way peculiar
to my felf, and to affect unbeaten Paths) the antientest Form of an Epifcopal Vifitation, that, I believe, is
extant, and which Baluzius hath printed at the End of his Notes upon Regino, Pag. 602. manifeftly fhews,
that the Biſhop did not always read his Charge (which is there called his Admonitio) himſelf, but delivered it
to a Deacon to read it aloud, in the Biſhop's Name and Stead, to the Clergy that were then and there affem-
bled. It is above nine hundred Years old, and therefore it may be worth the while, to give you the Title,
and the Beginning of it-the Title is. Admonitio Synodalis antiqua, à Diacono poft Evangelium legen-
da; Epifcopo, et ceteris in ordine fedentibus. They had no Sermon then, but Prayers, Pfalms, Epiftle, and
Gospel. And then followed the Admonition, of which this is the Beginning. Fratres Presbyteri, et Sacer-
dotes Domini, Cooperatores Ordinis noftri eftis. Nos quidem, quamvis indigni, locum Aaron tenemus.
autem locum Eleazari, et Ithamaris. Nos vice duodecim Apoftolorum fungimur. Vos ad formam Septua-
ginta Difcipulorum eftis. Nos vero Paftores Veftri fumus. Vos autem Paftores animarum vobis Commiſſarum.
Nos de Vobis Rationem reddituri fumus, Paftori Domino noftro Jefu Chrifto. Vos de Plebibus vobis coñmiſſis :
et ideo, Cariffimi, videte periculum veftrum. Ammonemus itaque, et obfecramus Fraternitatem veftram, ut quæ
vobis fuggerimus, memoria commendetis, et opere exercere ftudeatis. And then follow the particular Injunctions
he lays upon them, which are too long for this Place. I only tranfcribe thus much, to juftify the Method
I take For I think it full as good for every Clergyman to read my Charge at home beforehand, as to hear a
Deacon read it, or Myself, at our Meeting; eſpecially fince by theſe Means, he may read it again and again
at his Leifure, as I hope, and ought to hope, he will. The Articles of Enquiry (which the Antients alfo
called Inquifitio) are, generally, the fame with thofe of my Honoured Predeceflor, Dr. Beveridge, excepting
that fome new Occurrences have occafioned fome few Additions, and fome little Alterations. They will be,
on that Score, as more familiar, fo more acceptable to you; and I am truly glad to find the Memory of fo ex-
cellent a Man, both for his Piety and Learning, fo precious with you. May we all of us profit cur felves of
his good Example!
3
Vos
TITLE
464
The Bishop of St. À SA PH's
TITLE I.
Concerning the Clergy.
1. Doth your Miniſter refide upon his Benefice?
1. The Refidence of a Clergyman upon his Benefice, appears fo reaſonable and fit, that whenfoever it is,
for any confiderable Time, interrupted, a good Man does not (I believe) fo often recur to the Difpenfation
of his lawful Superiors, for the Satisfaction of his Mind therein, as to his own Confcience, to know whether
that Diſpenſation be duly and rightly applied. He doubts not of the Reaſonableneſs and Juftice of ſuch a
Power, to make fuch Laws, and to diftribute fuch Indulgencies, where needful, but he will make himſelf
the Judge, whether he is himſelf a proper Subject of ſuch Favour; and if he find not his Neceffities of Ab-
fence and Non-Refidence, to be juſt and true, and very preffing, his Heart reproaches him, even when he
has his Seals and Licence in his Cloſet: He knows the Law is there ill uſed, the Judge miſtaken, and him-
ſelf faulty, and accountable to his great Lord and Maſter, though diſpenſed with here on Earth, and freed
from Puniſhment. The very Nature of his Undertaking fhews him this; the Obligations he has laid himſelf
under, with fuch Solemnity, to God in his Ordination, and to his Biſhop at his Inftitution, have ftrictly
bound it on his Soul: And from this Burthen, nothing but good Reafons, and true Neceffities can difengage
him.
A Clergyman's Pariſh is, in fome Sort, his Houſe and Home; there is his Bufinefs, there his Family;
there all his Time, his Care, his Pains and Diligence fhould be expended: And I call every Man's Heart to
Witneſs, whether, the more Months he lives in his Parifh, the more Duty he performs in it, the more Care
he takes of it, he does not think himſelf the more approved of God and of all good Men, and of his own
Conſcience, and does not think he ſhall give a more joyful Account of his Charge in the Day of Júdgment.
I would therefore intreat all thoſe with whom I am concerned, to confider ſeriouſly, what Profit, or what
Pleaſure, can ballance the Satisfaction of approving themſelves to God, their own Confciences, and all good
Men, by living among their People, as much as poffibly they can, and doing them what Good lies in their
Power, both by their Doctrine and Example. And I hope no Body, for the future, will either, without my
Leave, abfent themſelves from their Gures, for any long Time; or obtain my Leave, by falfe Excuſes, and
fuch Pretences, as they know are groundleſs, though I cannot fee through them; And I the rather fay this,
becauſe, I doubt, there are fome Rectors who think themſelves at Liberty to abfent themſelves, becauſe not
tied, by Oath, to Continual Refidence, as Vicars are. I affure them, this is but an imaginary Liberty; and
the 21 H. VIII. cap. 13. may inftruct them better.
2. Doth he dwell in his Parfonage or Vicarage-Houfe?
2. Refidence doth ordinarily ſuppoſe the Miniſter to live in his proper Houfe: But this Enquiry ſuppoſes it
may be otherwiſe. I am forry to hear that fome of the Clergy of this Dioceſe have no Houſe at all of their
own to live in; and that others have ſuch as cannot poffibly receive their Families, and are therefore con-
ftrained to live in hired ones. I can think of applying no other Remedy to theſe Evils paft, but warning
thoſe who are concerned, to take more Care for the future of their Houſes; that they fuffer them not, for
want of a little Charge and Care at preſent, to grow daily worſe and worſe, till at laft they come to fuch a
Pafs that they deſpair of mending them; and the next Succeffor finds them on the Ground, and is neither
able to build them himſelf, nor to recover any Thing towards the doing it, from a poor helpleſs Widow, or
inſolvent Executor. By thefe Ways, a tolerable Houſe becomes a mean one, and a mean one falls into
Ruine. Wherever therefore the proper Houfe is not fufficient to receive the Incumbent and his Family, I
ſhall expect, and will exact with more than ufual Strictneſs, that the Houſe be kept in very good Repairs.
But where it is poffible, I hope to find every Incumbent in his proper Houfe, and taking all due Care both to
ſuſtain it and amend it. This is what the Clergy owe in Juftice to their Succeffors, becauſe they either re-
ceived it from their Predeceffors, or thought themſelves injured in not receiving it.
3. If he be not there himſelf, hath he a Curate allowed of by the Biſhop, always
refiding among you ?
3. The Refidence of a Miniſter on his Benefice is ſo neceffary, that whenever his Bufinefs calls and keeps
him from it, his Abfence is to be ſupplied with a Curate, who is in all Refpects to diſcharge the Office of the
Incumbent, and is to be allowed of by the Bifhop, i. e. he is not to be Curate, unleſs allowed of by the
Biſhop. There are ſome Reaſons for which a Biſhop may, with Safety, reject a Clerk preſented to him by
the Patron; but there are many other Reaſons for which a Biſhop would reject a Clerk, if he could do it
without Trouble and Danger of the Law. But a Curate is ſo abfolutely within the Bishop's Power, that
none can be admitted as fuch, or entertained, without his Approbation or Allowance; not his Connivance cr
Permiffion only, but his Examination and his Licence. And therefore when the Laws allow of Pluralities
and Non-Refidence, for fear of what Miſcarriages and Miſchiefs might enfue from thence, they leave it in
the Biſhop's Power to prevent all Damage to the Church, and to fupply all Defects of Abfence, by putting
in fuch Curates as they fhall judge faithful and able to diſcharge the Office of Incumbents, and alſo have em-
powered them to appoint thofe Curates their Rewards.
4. Doth he read the whole Prayers of the Church diftinctly and devoutly every
Sunday, and every Time the People are affembled for that Purpoſe.
4. A Miniſter is not at Liberty to uſe, or to refufe, what Prayers he pleaſes, in the Publick Service, but
must be governed by the Rubrick : Men may, and maft, be left to their Difcretion, in Things doubtful;
but
I
CHARGE to his
465
his CLERGY.
but where there is a Rule, a modeſt Man will not be wife above it, and much leſs against it. But there are
few, I hope, that want this Caution. I would to God there were as few concerned in the next Part of this
Enquiry, which is, Whether they read the Prayers diftinctly and devoutly? I have often wondered how it
fhould come to paſs, that ſo great a Part of the Miniſterial Office, as Reading Prayers in Publick is, fhould
take up fo little of our Care and Study as it feems to do, and be fo little confidered by Us, which, were it
well performed, would tend as much to our own, and to the Edification of our Audience, as any Thing we
can do, which is, I dare fay, the Defire and Aim of every good Clergyman. I own, that a good Voice,
ſweet Cadence, and a graceful Manner, in Reading, fall not to every Body's Share; nor are they to be ac-
quired by Art and Study; they are rather Gifts of Nature, and improveable by Care and Obfervation; but
many who have them, either totally neglect them, or mifufe them ftrangely by an Excefs of Affectation.
But they who have them not, can yet read Prayers diftinctly and devoutly; in this we afk nothing but what is
in every one's Power to do, with a little Care and Attention; and I am fure it is their Duty. The Minifter,
in the Publick Service, is, as it were, the Mouth of the Congregation. His Voice is to reach the Ears, and
to direct the Hearts of all his Audience, to their proper Object at that Time; and I will venture to affirm,
that much of their Devotion will depend upon the Way and Manner of his uttering forth his Prayers and
Praiſes. The Pfalms, and Hymns, and Chapters, are clearly other Things, when read diftinctly and de-
voutly, from what they are when read in Hafte and unattentively. Much of their Efficacy will, I know,
depend upon the Temper and good Difpofition that Men bring along with them to Church on thefe Occa-
fions; but ftill, I fay, the People will not fail of being more or lefs affected with this Service, as it is more
or leſs diftinctly and devoutly uttered and performed by the Miniſter. And therefore all their Care will be
well employed, in ftudying to do it in the beſt Manner that is poffible. To read too loud, is to difturb the
Devotion of the Audience, and draws them only to gueffing what is the Matter, and what is the Occafion
of exerting above what is needful: Men, in great Noifes, cannot think at all, but àre unfixed, and in much
Confufion. To read too low, is to loſe the End of Reading, which is to be heard and underſtood; it ftrains
the Attention too much, and when Men have long liſtened to little Purpoſe, they preſently give themſelves
up to think of other Matters. To read too fast, is to loſe one's own Attention, and to outrun all other Peo-
ple's; the Mind has not Leiſure to confider and dwell on what is faid; the Ear does only take in Words and
Sound, but nothing is communicated to the Heart; there is not Time for it, and then you may be fure there
is no Devotion; for Devotion is, in this Cafe, the affenting of the Heart to what is heard by the Ears, and
the being pleaſingly moved with it. It is as if a Meſſenger ſhould deliver his Errand whilſt he is riding Poft
by you; you hear him fay fomething, but what it is you know not, and fo it is as if he had ſaid nothing at
all. This quick Diſpatch of Prayers gives great Offence in many Kinds: It makes thoſe who diflike our
Forms, continue in their Prejudice againſt them: They fancy there is no Devotion in the Speaker, and they
are fure the Hearers cannot edify by them, not being able to attend to them duly, and go along with them
in the grave Manner that they ſhould. It looks like Difrefpect to the Congregation, as well as to the Service
it felf, to ſee Men haſtning to an End of it in ſo unſeemly a Manner, as if they longed to have it over, and
had ſomething better to do afterwards. The reading Prayers too faft, is the Fault that is moft generally
charged upon the Clergy; and therefore I infift upon it moft, in order to its being mended; becauſe it
cannot, in Truth, be done either with Diftinction. or Devotion. But there is alfo fomething amiſs in reading
too flow, which is the other Extream, but which not many, in Compariſon, fall into. The Attention, if
it is not duly fed and entertained, is loft: When People know beforehand what you are to ſay, they are im-
patient till it is delivered; and if you ftay beyond your Time, their Expectation becomes uneafy; they run
before you in their Minds, but their Devotion is hereby diſturbed and ſcattered. You may utter your Ser-
mons with what Degree of Slowneſs and Deliberation you fhall think fit, becauſe, not knowing what you
have to ſay, Men will expect with Patience. But in reading Prayers, with which they are well acquainted,
you muft, generally ſpeaking, keep that decent middle Pace to which they are moftly accuſtomed, or elfe
you will be in Danger of having your Audience either over-run you, or not overtake you, either of which
quite fpoils the End of publick Prayer. I would not multiply Rules and Obfervations of this Kind; moſt
People will do beft in following Nature in their Voice and Utterance, confulting Reafon in Accents and in
Cadence, and common Custom in the Quantities of proper Names, and Words that are of doubtful Pronun-
ciation. But then a Clergyman will read the Prayers beft, when he perceives he reads himſelf and his Au-
dience into a ſerious and devout Attention to the good things delivered by him.
5.
Doth he preach every Sunday, either in the English or Britiſh Tongue?
5. Cuſtom, I hear, has, in fome Places of this Dioceſe, prevailed, to the Difufe of weekly Sermons,
fo that they have Preaching but once in a Fortnight or three Weeks. Such Cuſtom, I am fure, muſt have pro-
ceeded from the Faultinefs or Negligence of former Incumbents, and I hope the preſent ones will not indulge
it any longer. I do utterly diſclaim the encouraging any fuch ill Practice; nay I require it at the Hands of
all that are concerned, to change it quickly, as they efteem my Favour or regard my Authority. I muſt
leave it to the Minifter's Difcretion, whether this Sermon fhall be in the English or the British Tongue; but
a Sermon there muſt be in one of them, on every Lord's Day, in every Parish Church throughout the Dioceſe,
unleſs there be great Cauſe to the contrary, Can. 45. I will not fo far diftruft the Reaſonableneſs of this In-
junction, as to add any Arguments in Favour of it; becauſe I can foreſee nothing material to be objected to it;
but let me take this Opportunity of adviſing the Miniſters ſo to divide their English and their British Sermons,
as may moſt tend to the general Edification of their People. In fome Places I underſtand there is now and
then an English Sermon preached, for the Sake of one or two of the beſt Families in the Pariſh, although
the reſt of the Pariſh underſtand little or nothing of English, and thofe few Families underſtand the British
perfectly well, as being their native Tongue: I cannot poffibly approve of this Refpect and Complaifance to
a few, that makes the Minifter fo uſeleſs to the reft, and much the greateſt Number of his People. I fhould
very glad (for my own Sake) that there were but one Language common to us all, and that one were En-
glish; but till that wiſh can be accompliſhed, I heartily defire the Language of the Minifter may be always
fuch as will beft inftruct, and edify his People moft; and that no Civility fhould come in Competition with
his Duty', much leſs take Place of it. I know that the Religion and Good-breeding of the Gentry, will
eafily
be
3 Z
{
466
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
eafily part with a reſpectful Cuſtom, when it is prejudicial to their poor Neighbours. What is it for a Mini-
fter to be a Barbarian, and to ſpeak in an unknown Tongue, but to preach in a Language that is not under-
ſtood by thoſe who hear him? And if I were to give you Rules of Preaching, whatever the Language were,
English or British, the firſt ſhould be, to ſpeak to the greatest Part of your Congregation, i. e. to thoſe who
make up the Body of your People. Confider their Neceffities and Manners, and fuit the Matter of your Ser-
mons to them; confider their Capacities and Underſtandings, and fuit your Language and Expreſſion to
them ; and I dare warrant you will beft diſcharge the Office of a Preacher. I do not mean that you ſhould
uſe the Market Phraſe, and fall into the Expreffion of the loweſt of the Vulgar; but ſuch a Plainneſs of
Speech as is fuited to the Capacity of all Men in general, which yet is clean and pure, and fuch as the moſt
elegant and well-bred People may and do uſe: All Manner of Words and Expreffions that have any thing
baſe and vile in them, that excite any fordid or impure Images in the Mind, or that are by Ufe become am-
biguous, and of double Meaning, are to be carefully avoided in our Compofitions for the Pulpit; that Place is
facred to Severity, and will admit no fort of Levities in Language. Let but your Words be plain and pro-
per, and they will be received, and underſtood, and approved by all the Congregation, though made up of
great Variety of People. A Preacher cannot anſwer it to his Audience, if what he fays be proper only to
a few, or intelligible to here and there a Man. Would that be thought a civil Entertainment, where more
than half the Gueſts muſt riſe from the Table, and go away with Nothing? The Cafe is not unlike, where
many Controverfial Points are handled, new Notions ftarted, and new Books confuted, and Authors called
upon, in Places where the People (Nine of Ten) have never ſo much as heard of fuch an Error, fuch a Per-
fon, fuch a Book, or Name, or Thing: They profit nothing by ſuch Means; Difcourfes of this Kind are
wholly loft upon them; and fo indeed are many others made on odd and antiquated Subjects, Things that
are true perhaps, but fo much out of the common Way, that they fignify but little, and edify lefs, though
handled very learnedly, and very well underſtood. In a Word, I afk no more under this Head, than that
every Preacher would, whilſt he is defigning and compofing his Sermon, confider the Nature and Condition
of his Audience, their fpiritual Wants, and the Reach of their Understanding, and treat them in fuch a
Manner as ſhall moft probably affect the greatest Part of them. He fhould (and would if he could) inftruct
and affect them all; but the Diverſity of Age and Capacity making that impoffible, his next beſt Aim muſt
be to inſtruct and affect the moſt, which is certainly beſt done by plain Senſe in plain Expreffion.
6. Is he and his Curate of an unblemiſhed Life ?
6. I have been making fome Obfervations upon reading Prayers, and Preaching in fuch Manner as may
tend moſt to the Edification of the People; but neither will be done as it ought to be, unleſs the Anfwer to
this Enquiry be in the Affirmative. If a fober and unblemished Life do not adorn the Minifter, he will not be
able either to pray or preach to any great Purpoſe: The People will not fail, in the Midft of his beft Per-
formances, to remember his Diſorders and Irregularities; they will be evermore applying to him what the
Pfalmift fays,in the Name of God-Why dost thou preach my Laws, and takeft my Covenant in thy
Mouth? whereas thou hateft to be reformed, and hath caft my Words behind thee? It is a dreadful Objection
People make to all that we can fay in Behalf of Virtue and Religion, if we live loofly and diforderly
Why does this Man confute his Doctrine by his Practice? Why does he heap up Arguments to ftir us to So-
briety and Temperance, that have no Power upon himſelf? I own theſe Reaſonings are not good; nor does
it follow that the Miniſter believes not what he fays is true, becauſe he lives in Contradiction to it. The
Rule is the fame to both the Minifter and People, and each fhall anſwer for themſelves for the Breach of it:
But the Miniſter is obliged to fhew the People that the Rule is practicable. He is to go before them, by Ex-
ample, in the Ways of Righteouſneſs, and fhew the People thoſe Ways are paffable, and fafe, and eaſier
than they apprehend them to be. He is not only to preach up Temperance, and Sobriety, and Chaſtity,
and Juftice, and Mercy, and every thing that is Praife-worthy- but alſo to let them fee, that the Ar-
guments and Motives by which he perfuades his People to the Exerciſe of all theſe Graces and Virtues, are ſuch
as thoroughly convince and perfuade himſelf, ſo that they ſee his Practice correſpond to his Inſtructions.
I know not (as I faid) of one Precept in all the Scriptures, commanding any thing good, or prohibiting any
thing evil, that does not as much oblige every Man and Woman living, as it does the Priest or Minister of the
Pariſh; but yet I fee his Condemnation for Offences of the fame kind, muſt needs be greater than theirs.
Whence can this be, but from the Nature of his Office and holy Calling, which is to teach all Truth, and
to live in the Exercife of it? From the Solemnity of his own Engagements, when he was feparated from the
World to God's Service, by which he willingly bound himſelf, to go before his People both in Doctrine and
Example? From the Expectation of all the World, which is, has been, and will for ever be, that the Prieſt
fhould live a Life according to his Rules, and in moſt exemplary Manner? And from the mighty Scandal that
he gives, when he walks contrary to theſe Engagements, Obligations, and Expectations? No Body's Crimes
exciting more Abhorrence, Rage, and Deteftation in the Hearts of all Men, than theirs who are devoted to
the Service of the Altar; nor do any one's Offences equally wound Religion with theirs; not when Men
reaſon well and judge impartially, but when Men of corrupt Minds and wicked Practice reaſon and judge, as
they have always done, aud will, I doubt not, always do. They conclude againſt the Truths of Revelation,
from the little Effect they fee they have upon the Practice of the Priests, its domeftick Servants, Votaries,
and Defenders. Vain Men, it is not fo! You want more folid Arguments against the Truths that trouble
you, than any you can find: You want Objections to the Precepts of the Gofpel, that enjoin you Holiness
of Life, and Virtues of all Kinds; and you expect to find them fooner, and more plentifully, from the
Practice of weak imperfect Men, and fubject to the fame Paffions, Inclinations, and Affections with your
felves, than any your Wit and Invention can furniſh you with, or any you can fetch from the Defect of
Reaſon in thoſe Rules and Precepts, or of Authority in thoſe who gave them and enjoyned them. But how
can you be ſtrengthened in Infidelity, or fettled in wicked Practice, from the corrupt and depraved Manners
of the Prieſts, when the Queſtion is about the Truth and Reaſonablenefs of the Rules and Precepts you are
to walk by, and their Authority, and not about the Effect and Influence they have? when even thofe Priefts,
as well as you, are obliged to walk by Rule, and will be judged by Rule, and certainly condemned for their
tranfgreffing it? Let us defire thefe Gentlemen not to defer fo much to our Example, unless they will con-
clude
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
46.7
clude as well in Favour of Truth and Virtue, from the Practice of fuch among us as walk honeftly and care-
fully, as they do against them, from the Practice of thoſe who walk contrary to both.
But with how much Reaſon and Strength foever I think I could argue against thofe Men, who flight and
difcredit Virtue and Religion for the Wickednefs-fake of fome bad Minifters-
-yet does my Heart fail
me, when I confider how it is in Fact, and to what Degree thoſe good Things ſuffer in the World, from
any of our notorious Failings: Then have I little Joy in thinking that Men make falfe Conclufions in thefe
Cafes, when I remember they have made, and will, to the End of the World, make juft the fame Conclu-
fions. Then have I little Regard to all that can be offered to theſe Gainfayers of the Truth; and rather
turn my felf to you, my Brethren and my Friends, with the moſt ſerious Exhortation of St. Paul to Titus ii.
7, 8. That you would in all things fhew your felves Patterns of good Works, that he that is of the contrary Part
may be ashamed, having no evil thing to fay of you; and giving no Offence in any thing, that the Ministry may not
be blamed, 2 Cor. vi. 3. You fee how early Men began to take Exceptions to the Sacred Office, for the fake
of fome who behaved themſelves ill in that Character.
7. Doth he diligently upon Sundays, openly in the Church, Inftruct and Examine
fo`many Children of his Pariſh, fent unto him, as he thinks convenient, in fome
Part of the Church-Catechiſm ?
7. The Excellence and Uſefulneſs of Catechifing young People, and inftructing them in the Principles of
their Religion, is ſo manifeftly great, that I know not what to ſay in its Defence: Things that are plain,
do neither want, nor bear any Illuftration. Religion is, in this, like all other Arts and Sciences; it muſt be
learned whilft People are young, and fufceptible of good Impreffions, or very little Proficiency will be made
therein; and I ſee moſt Clergymen are of this Opinion, by the innumerable Multitude of Catechifms that
have been, and are daily put out by them, for the Ufe of young Beginners in the Knowledge of Religion;
not that they differ in their Principles, or Expofition of great Truths, each from the other; but that each of
them has Regard to fome particular Sett of People, to which they have, or have had Relation, to whofe Ne-
ceffities, and Capacities, they fuit their Inftructions: This is the true Caufe of their Variety for they all of
them comment on the fame Text, namely, the Church Catechifm, which is, in truth, fuch a Summary of
the Chriſtian Faith and Duty, delivered with fuch Brevity, and yet fuch Perfpicuity, that, as far as I can
judge, no Church of any Age or Place hath ever produced its Equal; and you fhall in vain feek for the like,
in the Works of any one, either Greek or Latin, Writer. And as this Variety of Catechifms demonftrates
the Concurrence of the Common Judgment in the Ufe and Neceffity of Catechifing; fo it has made it very
eafy for others to do the fame good Work after them; and therefore I hope you will every one of you attend
to it, and breed up a Generation that will fhame the prefent one, both in its Knowledge and fincere Practice
of Chriftian Duties. And that which ſhould the rather invite you to difcharge this Part of your Duty to
your Pariſhes, is this, That the Elder People, who have either never learned, or quite forgotten the Princi-
ples of their Religion, will be hereby inftructed, or reminded of them: I never yet heard Catechifing in the
Church, where I did not fee the Oldeft and the Graveft People attend as feriously as any elfe; and I dare
fay they were as much edified, and more pleaſed to be fo, than the Younger. I was once in a Church (which
I have ever fince remembred with fome Pleaſure) where I heard Men and Women, fome fifty, fome fixty,
and others upwards of thofe Years, repeating their Catechifm before the Congregation, as Children commonly
do, in other Places. A good Chriftian had, it feems, left fo many Loaves, to be difpofed of to fuch poor
People (of what Age foever) as fhould publickly fubmit to be inftructed in the Church-Catechiſm, and pub-
lickly rehearſe the feveral Parts of it; which they did very readily, without any Shame or Shinefs. Who
knows but theſe poor People would, without this Motive and Encouragement, have lived and died in utter
Ignorance of the Faith and Duty of a Chriftian? And was ever any Bread diftributed with more Charity,
that fed the Soul (as it were) as well as the Body? But though Old People will not (without the Loaves) be
brought to rehearſe their Catechiſm among you, yet I dare fay the Oldeft will not be afhamed to learn it, and
remember it, from what they hear the Young-ones fay, and what is ſaid to them.
8. Doth he adminifter the Sacrament of Baptifm publickly at the Font in the
Church, and not elſewhere, except in caſe of Neceffity, when there is Caufe to
fear the Child may otherwiſe die without it?
9. Doth he, in that Cafe, ufe only the Office for Private Baptifm; and afterwards,
if the Child recover, receive it publickly into the Church, as the Law requires?
8, 9. Theſe two Articles are Points of Difcipline; and in all fuch Caſes, the Rubrick is the Guide. The
Font was uſually placed at the Entry of the Church, to fignify that no body could be a Member of Chrift's
Church, but he who was initiated into it by Water-Baptifm, and the bringing Children to publick Baptifm in
Churches, was, among other Reaſons, required, to the Intent, that every one of the Congregation, hearing
the Stipulations and Engagements made for the preſent Infant, might be put in mind of their own, and ac-
cordingly endeavour to reform their own Defects, and faulty Negligences. The Injunctions of the Antient
Chriſtians of this Kind, had more and other Reaſons to proceed upon, than the late or modern ones had, or
can have. But the Church of England had, and hath Authority enough, and Reafons enow, to enjoyn what
The enjoyns of this Nature; and I muſt alſo add, that the hath Goodneſs enough to connive at the Relaxation
of fuch Rules of Difcipline, as cannot strictly be obferved without great Danger, or extream Inconvenience,
upon fome Occafions, and in fome Places; not to fchifmatical, or careless, or prefumptuous Heads, regardleſs
of all Rule and Order; but to fuch modeft, prudent, and confiderate Men, as finding themfelves in great
Straits, do rather venture an Irregularity of their own, than an apparent Mifchief to the Church.
ro. Doth
468
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
1
10. Doth he adminifter the Sacrament of the Lord's-Supper fo often, that all his
Parishioners may receive at leaſt three times in the Year?
11. Is he always ready to Adminiſter it, when there is a fufficient Number of his
Parishioners duly prepared and defirous to Communicate with him?
12. Doth he on the Sunday or Holy-day before the Communion, give Notice
thereof in the Church, and read one of the Exhortations fitted to that Purpofe in
the Common-Prayer-Book?
10, 11, 12. Both Laws and Cuſtom have fo fecured this Point, that I do not expect to hear of one Pariſh
in the Dioceſe, where the People have not the Opportunity of communicating, three times at leaft in every
Year; but oftner, if they fignify any Difpofition to do fo, and have fufficient Numbers to join with them.
I doubt not but the Minifters will be fo far from neglecting the Opportunities required by Authority, that
they will ſeriouſly and earneſtly invite their People to communicate more frequently than they are com-
manded to do: And will difpofe them to it by fuch Difcourfes as will fhew them, that the Duty they are
called to, is none of thofe they think the Burthens of Religion, but rather a great Privilege, an Honour, and
Advantage; a Feaft of Love, and Joy, and Thankſgiving for the Deliverance of our Souls from Death, for
the Forgiveneſs of our Sins, and for the Satisfaction made to God by the moft meritorious Sacrifice of Chrift
upon the Crofs, which we then and there commemorate. They will endeavour to abate the Horror, and
moft dreadful Apprehenfions which fome of St. Paul's Expreffions (ufed alfo by our Church in its Exhorta-
tions) ill applied and underſtood, are apt to excite in many People's Minds: By fhewing them what St. Paul
meant by then, in the particular Cafe of the Corinthians; and what the Church now means in the general
Application of them to all her Children; which furely cannot be the fame, where there is not the like Occa-
fion given, the fame Abuſes not to be committed, nor any Circumftance appear common with theirs,
which firft occafioned that Diſcourſe, and which can beſt inſtruct us in its Senfe and Meaning. They will
infift upon a penitent Heart, a lively Faith, and a forgiving Temper; and that will ſcatter all their, Fears, and
fill them with good Hope when they approach to the Lord's Table, and bring them home again with Peace
and Satisfaction. See if the whole Communion-Service tends not to this Purpofc; if it fuppofes any other
Preparation to the coming to the Sacrament, to the Eating and Drinking Worthily, and to the avoiding that
Damnation that it threatens to the Unworthy Receiver; whatever it means by theſe Expreffions.
13. Is he careful to Vifit the Sick, and to prepare them for the Holy Communion,
and for their Departure into the other World?
13. This is ſo tender a Part of the Office of a Parish-Priest, that even good Nature and Compaffion are
as ready to excite him to the due Diſcharge of it, as the Senſe of Duty, and the Injunctions of Authority
can be: But when they join, no Confiderations can be wanting to enforce the carefulleft Attention to this
good Part of Vifiting the Sick. Surely Men are never more in Earnett, never more truly ſenſible of their
everlafting Concern, that when they lie upon the Bed of Sicknefs, and believe they are going to give an Ac-
count to God of all their paft Life. Then therefore is the Time when they will gladlieft hear your Prayers,
attentively confider your Advice, bear your Reproofs, and hearken to your Admonitions, Exhortations and
Inftructions; then are they readieft to confefs their Sins, promife Amendment, and Submiffion to the Laws
of Christ. Then therefore is the Seafon of applying to them, with moft Succefs, in fuch Diſcourſes as you
find moſt proper to their State and Condition; whether it be to bring them to a Senſe and Acknowledgment
of their paſt Offences, to work in them fuch Shame and Sorrow as befits them; fuch Purpoſes of Satisfaction
and Amends, (where it can poffibly be done) as will teftify they have brought forth Fruits meet for Repen-
tance, and fuch firm Refolutions of Amendment for the future, that they and you may have great Comfort
in them, whether they live or die: Or whether it be to ftrengthen them in their Faith, clear up their Doubts,
and encourage them againſt all cauſeleſs Fear, diftruft of their Condition, and Defpondency.
I would not have the Clergy to be Bufy-Bodies, nor Medlers with other Peoples Matters, especially their
Temporal and Domeſtick Concerns, becauſe it gives Men great Diſtaſte, and does Differvice to them in
the main: But yet, unleſs they be moſt diligent and heedful Obſervers of the Lives and Manners of their
People, they will neither preach pertinently to them in their Churches, nor difcourfe properly in their Houſes,
nor rightly apply to them on their Sick Beds. To do theſe Patients the beſt Service, one muſt throughly
know, and be well acquainted, with their Condition. If Shame, or Pride, or Vanity, or other Reaſon
fhould cauſe them to conceal their State, and talk in Generals only (as the Cafe too often happens) yet your
Acquaintance with their Practice will help you to ſpeak plainly to them, and your Duty will oblige you to be
particular, in all Points that are neceffary. Whereas if the Sick be filent, or conceal himfelf, and the
Minifter be ignorant how Things have paffed, the Vifit will be meer Formality and uſeleſs to them
both. I would not therefore have the Practice of fending for a ſtrange, or neighbour Miniſter, on theſe Oc-
cafions, encouraged beyond what is neceffary. The Parish-Prieft is much the fitteſt Perſon to be uſed in this
Service, becauſe he is prefumed to know the Parties beft, and conſequently can beft fit his Exhortations to
the preſent Neceffities. In Cafes, indeed, where the Sick have fomething fecret to impart, and would un-
burthen their Confcience, and receive either Satisfaction of fome Doubts, or Abfolution; I cannot but be-
lieve they are at Liberty to fend for whom they pleaſe, and the Clergy at Liberty to go, and ferve them to
their utmoſt. But in all other Cafes, which are ordinary, where neither Secrecy, nor greater Skill, are re-
quired, I fhould be glad the People would always fend for their own Minifters, and that the Clergy fhould
make fome Scruple of invading their Brother's Office, on theſe Occafions, when they know he is in the Way,
and within Reach, and ready to do his Duty. They will, I hope, be ever tender of each other's Credit,
and
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
469
and will contribute nothing (which they can avoid) to the bringing any Difrefpect on any one; nor ſhould
the People be encouraged in the Opinion, that One Man's Service is fo preferable to Another's, in Matters of
this Nature, where all depends upon the Grace of God, and the good Difpofition of the Recipients, or the
Parties adminiftred to; and nothing at all upon the Goodness of the Minifter, though he were holy as Johr
the Baptift. But can I flip this Opportunity of faying, that, though I know this is an Error of the People,
and with the Prejudice were wholly rooted up out of their Minds, yet I believe it never was, nor ever will
be otherwife? The Clergy who live beft, will not only evermore be beft efteemed of by all Men; (that is
their Due, and always will be paid) but Men will always think their Minifterial Service to be much more.
efficacious, than that of Others, and will be always more defirous of it; and in the Times of Sickneſs more
than any other. I know not how to rectify this Error, but I know how it may be turned to Good, and
and made fubfervient to the beſt of Purpoſes, and that will be by living holily; for then the People will defire
our Prayers, and covet earneſtly our Spiritual Service, and believe us more effectually when we apply to them;
and though they fhould be miſtaken, yet we fhall be the better, and reap the Fruits and Rewards of being ſo.
But where will thofe unhappy Minifters appear, who, by their wicked and licentious Lives, have given
fuch Scandal and Offence to their Congregations, that they abhor the Sacrifice of the Lord; and know not
how to fend for them, or afk their Prayers; who have themfelves lived, as it were, without God in the World?
What a Difcouragement muſt it needs be, to poor People, from calling for the Minifter to difpoſe them for
Death, when they have known him live, as if there were no After-reckoning to be made? But with what
Face, what Heart, can he prepare them for the Sacrament, by exhorting them to a lively Faith, and moſt
fincere Repentance, who feems, to them, to have no Senfe of either? The People are, in truth, too flack
in calling for the Affiftance of their Paftors, upon theſe Occafions, even when they are Sober, Virtuous,
Godly Men, and every way qualified to do them Service; But who can bear the Burthen of that Guilt, that
makes it ſeem ſo reaſonable for People not to fend for, or admit that Service? Some few there are, I doubt,
of this bad Claſs; God, of his Goodneſs, fhorten, every Day, their Number, by giving them the Grace of
true Repentance, that they may fave themſelves and thofe that hear them. But where the People are flack
and negligent, there I adviſe the Minifter to find his Opportunity, and vifit without being fent for, for fear
he ſhould not be fent for at all, or fent for, as the Manner often is, when it is too late.
is too late. The Friends and
Relations of the Sick are indeed obliged to give the Minifter Notice, when it is moft convenient he ſhould
come; when are the Intervals of greater Eafe, from Pain or Sickneſs; when they are moft awake and fenfi-
ble; and when the Operations of Medicines beft permit; want of this Information may make a Vifit trouble-
fome, if not entirely uſeleſs; befides the Lofs of Time and Pains, which in ſome Cafes, is not inconfiderable.
I do not therefore judge a Minifter to be always in fault, when fome of his Parishioners have died without his
vifiting them; it may be he has had no Notice of their Illneſs, or was not called by thofe who ſhould have done
that good Office for their Friend or Relation. He must be always ready and difpofed to go; and he muſt do
it freely, without asking, and without expecting any manner of Reward; for fear that Confideration ſhould
hinder poor People from requiring his Prayers and Affiftance in their laft Extremities, which they want, and
would be glad to have, but cannot bear the Charge of. This is an Age of fuch Corruption, that though I
hope, nothing like it has reached fo far as Wales, yet I cannot chooſe but give Warning of it, to all with
whom I have any thing to do. As to the Buſineſs of Abfolution, in this Office, as it is a Matter of great
Moment, fo is it alſo thought of fome Difficulty to know when it is to be applied. The Conditions of it,
are the truly repenting, and unfeignedly believing the Goſpel. The Difficulty of applying it, arifes from
the Difficulty of knowing when Men truly repent, and when they unfeignedly believe. And I muft needs
fay, that it is not in any Man's Power to know, with any Certainty, when this is truly done: We muſt
take Men's Words for it, and depend upon the Profeffions they make; and though we may paſs a wrong
Judgment, and pronounce a Sentence that will not ſtand, before the great Judge; yet we ſhall do it without
Hazard to our felves, provided the fick Penitent make, at that Time, a fpecial Confeffion of his Sins, and
humbly and heartily defire the Prieft or Minifter to give him Abfolution. Thefe are the Directions the Church
gives in the Rubricks of this Office, which if carefully read and well obſerved, I know not what great Diffi-
culty the Prieft will find about pronouncing the Abfolution. I will end this Article with remarking, That
the Performance of this Office, with ſuch a ſerious, grave, and compaffionate Concern, as the fick Perfon's
Cafe requires, does ufually draw with it a greater Degree of Efteem and Love, from thoſe who behold and
hear it, than the Performance of other Offices is wont to do: And I have known it engage Men in a very
ſerviceable Friendſhip to their Miniſter, for ever after. Under this Head, I think it proper to ſay, that the
Miniſter remind fuch People as have in their Sickneſs defired the Prayers of the Congregation, to return their
Thanks as publickly to God, for his reſtoring them to their Health.
14. Doth he ever celebrate Matrimony without Banns being firſt Publiſhed Three
feveral Sundays, or Holydays, in the Parish Church where the Parties dwell; un-
lefs he have a ſpecial Licence to do it?
14. To prevent Incestuous, Shameful, and Unequal Matches, the Church has all along been careful to
ordain that none ſhould be clandeftinely married, without Banns being first published, or without ſpecial Li-
cence obtained, and between the Hours of eight and twelve in the Morning. To this Purpoſe it has been
made highly penal by the Canons, for any Clergyman to marry otherwife than was allowed and publickly
approved. The 62d Canon made in 1603, ordains Sufpenfion ipfo facto for three Years, to any one offending
in this kind. We muſt indeed own, that all the Evils and Mifchiefs of Clandeftine Marriages, how great
and many foever they be, are juftly chargeable upon the Clergy, fince, without their Concurrence, there
could be no fuch things; and therefore no Severities can be too great, to be inflicted on thoſe wicked Men,
who for the fake of a little Profit more than ordinary, bring fo much Shame, and Sorrow, and Subſtantial
Mifery, upon whole Families; undo young_thoughtlefs Creatures; diffolve the Ties of Childrens Duty and
Obedience to their Parents, and of Parents Care and Affection to their Children; nothing being more apt to
alienate their Hearts, and provoke them to many raſh and hard Reſolutions, than the ftrange and unaccount-
able Choices their Children often make; which yet they could not compafs, without the Affiftance of fome
3 A a
mercenary
470
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
*
mercenary Wretch abufing his good Office. Ought not a Clergyman, above all others, to confider, the
Strength of Parents Love to their Children; their conftant Care and Thoughtfulneſs to do them Good;
their Charges in their Education; the Toils they are at, the Pains and Labours they undergo continually, to
make Provilion for them; the Deſigns they have laid to make them happy; the Hopes they have treaſured up
in them, and the Pleaſure they have already conceived in having them well beftowed? Thefe Things are all
fo natural, that they come within the compaſs of every Bodies Thought; and how can any Ciergyman for-
bear to put himſelf in fuch a Parent's Cafe, and fee how he could endure the Difappointment of all fuch
Love, fuch Hope, fuch Expectations, and Defire; and, in their Stead, to find himſelf covered with Con-
fufion and Difgrace, by the moſt difagreeable, unequal, if not ſhameful Match, of his extravagant and dif-
obedient Child? And all this, by Means of a Man who muſt tranfgrefs all the Rules of Reafon, and Com-
mands of God and his Superiors, to bring it to pafs. I know not how a Man can make himſelf more juftly
hated, than a Clergyman does, by theſe clandeftine and forbidden Marriages; nor draw more Execrations,
if not Vengeance, on his Head, from Families fo provoked and injured. I doubt the Laws themſelves,
though executed carefully by all the Clergy, would not be able to prevent all manner of Miſcarriages of this
Nature: The Bufinefs of Licenfes is fubject to much Abufe: But this is what the Clergy cannot help, and
therefore are not to anſwer for; what they can help, I hope they will.
Thus I have gone through all the feveral Articles contained under the First Title, which relate to the
Clergy in particular; and though the Enquiry is made to, and the Anſwer expected from, the Church-war-
dens; yet I conceived it beft, to direct the Confideration of all theſe things to you, My Brethren, who are
indeed the moſt concerned in them, and whoſe Practice is to furniſh the Church-wardens with proper An-
ſwers to the ſeveral Queſtions. I hope you will, all of you, ſeriouſly_read, and think upon them; and if
any thing is, or hath been amifs, that you will fet it right again, that I may come and meet you (as both my
Wiſh and Inclination is) in Love and with the Spirit of Meekness.
I
TITLE II.
Concerning the Parishioners.
T will not be amifs, I believe, that the Church-wardens fhould remember, and be told, 1. That they
are Officers of the Pariſh, in Ecclefiaftical Affairs. 2. That when they enter on their Office, they take
an Oath to diſcharge that Office, well and truly. 3. That by Virtue of this Oath, they are obliged, at
Vifitations, to make Prefentments of ſuch things as are amifs in their Pariſhes, according to the Articles deli-
vered to them. 4. That if they knowingly neglect, or refuſe to make fuch Preſentments, the Ordinary has
Power to proceed against them, as wilful Breakers of their Oath. Theſe things it is fit they fhould under-
ftand; and, I doubt, the Education, Way of Living, and Capacity of moft of them, will make it needful
for the Miniſter to inftruct them in their Duty, and remind them of the Obligations, and help them to make
their Prefentments, in ſuch manner as ſhall beft anſwer to the End and Purpoſe of their appearing at Vifita-
tions, which is, in truth, to be aiding and affiſting to the Ordinary, in the Exercife of what Church-Difci-
pline is left within his Power. And I hope the fhort Remarks I ſhall make upon each Head as I go along,
will convince Men of the Reaſonableneſs of making Prefentments of Offenders in theſe Particulars.
1. Are there any in your Pariſh, who commonly abſent themſelves from Morning or
Evening Prayer, upon the Lord's Day?
1. As it was God alone who fanctified this Day, and ſeparated it to a holy Reft, in Commemoration of
his Benefits and Mercies; So it is he alone who can excufe a Man, abſenting himſelf entirely on this Day,
from performing his Devotion in publick with the Congregation, i. e. a Man muft needs be difabled from
coming to Church by Age, or Pain, or Sickneſs, or Indifpofition, or extreamly bad Ways and Weather (all
which are Excufes of God's own making) who ordinarily and commonly abfents himſelf, Morning and
Evening, from the Church or Congregation, where he pretends to worſhip God. I have ever thought it a
great Differvice to Religion, to carry the Common Duties of it, beyond the Common Powers of thoſe who are
to practice them; or ftretch Commands to an unreafonable Extent. And upon this Score, have wondred
much, and not without much Diffatisfaction, to ſee ſo many worthy People in the Days of our Fathers, preſs
the Obſervation of the Sabbath (as they called it, by which the Chriftian Church for fifteen hundred
Years did ever mean Saturday) in fo rigorous and precife a manner, as would have been a Burthen even to
Jews. But I would not, for all that, have their Miftakes fo rectified, as to run us into the contrary Ex-
tream, of a looſe and negligent Obfervance of that Day. That Day ſtill is, and ever muſt be, holy to the
Lord: And when it ceaſes to be fo, there will be an End of our Religion. Obferve the People that neglect
the ſerving God upon that Day, and I believe, you will find them good for nothing; they ferve him very
careleſsly at all times elſe; nay, we may well fufpect they ſerve him not at all; for wherever Christianity has
got any Footing, it has been allowed, that the Lord's Day ſhould be the Day of Publick Worſhip for all Sorts
of People, and they who have neglected it, have generally been reckoned Men of no Religion: Or if they
are not fo by Principles, they will foon become fo, by this Practice of abſenting ordinarily from Church on
the Lord's Day. It is the frequent Return of this Day, and what is faid and done thereon, that keeps Reli-
gion alive in People's Hearts. They would forget the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments,
if they came not to Church, to hear and repeat them there on Sundays. It is on thefe Occafions, that even
good and ferious Chriftians are glad to be put in Mind of many uſeful Truths, and important Duties, which
they had, in a manner, forgotten or neglected: All People do not come to Church to learn what they never
heard or knew before, but to be exhorted to put in Practice what they knew, and to be reminded of what
they underſtood, but had not well enough attended to. And I queſtion not, but most of us owe what Share of
Virtue, and Religion we have, to the Improvements we make, by the Grace of God, of thefe Weekly
·Opportunities of meeting together and ferving him in Publick. Let the Church-wardens therefore look about,
3
and
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
471
and fee who they are, that commonly (not feldom, or now and then, for moft People have Occafion fo to
do, and muft not be called upon for that) abfent themſelves from Morning and Evening Service on the Lord's
Day: And prefent them at the Vifitation, that Care may be taken, to admonifh and inftruct them better,
or, if there be good Reafon, to puniſh them and make them Examples. As to Diffenters who are known to
refort to their own Affemblies, and to have qualified themſelves as the Toleration-Act requires (i. e. who have
taken the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy, and fubfcribed the Declaration mentioned in a Statute made
30 Car. II.) fuch Diffenters, I fay, are not to be prefented. But if you know of any fuch, as under Pre-
tence of being Diffenters, abftain from going either to Church, or to feparate Affemblies, you may well pre-
fent them, and put it upon them to prove that they have qualified themfelves, as is required. And this,
without Offence even to Diffenters, if they are good and ferious People: For the Law was not made to en-
courage Irreligion, but for the Eafe of Tender Confciences; not to tolerate Men that would not worſhip God
at all, but fuch as could not be brought (Unhappy People they !) to worſhip Him, in the Way of the
Church of England. I cannot chooſe but thank God, that I have not many Diffenters within my Dioceſe;
And yet I fhould be glad to hear their Numbers were encreafed, by the Addition of all fuch, as conftantly
paſs away the Lord's Day, either in doing nothing, or in doing their private and domeftick Affairs, or in
walking about their Grounds, or in what they call Good-fellowship; that is, I had rather they were of fome,
than of no Religion; and would worſhip God in any Congregation, by Law permitted, if they will not do
it, in our good Way, by Law established.
2. Are there any who follow their Callings, or other worldly Employment, upon
the Lord's-Day?
2. If the Covetouſneſs of Gain, and the Hard-heartedneſs of many Men, were not ſtrangely great, ſuch
an Enquiry as this, could not, in a Chriſtian Country, be, in any Degree, neceffary. The Mercy of the
Fourth Commandment was to extend, we know, to all the Family, even to the Servants, and the Cattle
without Doors, for fear they ſhould be over-wrought. And becauſe the Servants were, heretofore, much in
their Maſter's Power, it was ordained (in the Days of our Saxon Anceſtors) that if a Mafter commanded his
Slave to work on Sunday, the Slave was to be at Liberty, and the Mafter puniſhed by Fine: And if he
wrought upon that Day, without Command, he was to be publickly fcourged. And that there might be
no Pretence of Neceffity for doing any other worldly Buſineſs on this Day, but what was charitable, or need-
ful for the Life and Eafe of Man, not even for killing and providing Victuals for the Family, it was or-
dained, that Saturday fhould generally be the Market-Day for all Chriftians; and it has, accordingly, been
ſo, in moſt Countries, for upwards of nine hundred Years, as appears from our Books: Though other Days
are alfo Market-Days in many Places, for fome particular Reaſons. Now if the Laws, both of God, and
of the Land, prohibit Men the following their Callings, and other worldly Employments on the Lord's-
Day, not only for the Servants and the Cattle's fake, that they might reft from their Labours; but alſo to
diſtinguiſh it from other Days, and to give all People Opportunities and Leiſure of ferving God, and look-
ing after the Concerns of Religion, and fecuring their eternal Intereft, by offering up their Prayers and
Praifes, by hearing, and attending to, God's Word, and taking their Lives into Examination: If thefe,
and the like, are proper Exerciſes for the Lord's-Day it is to be hoped, that the People will be brought
to think, that not their worldly Labours, and the following their proper Callings only, will be Hindrances
and Impediments to theſe good Sunday-Works; but all fuch rude and boisterous Playings, Games, and Exer-
cifes, as quite tranfport the Mind from ferious fober Confiderations; confume abundance of their Time;
tempt them to fwear and curſe; and either end in Quarrels, or in drunken Affociations, and looſe Appoint-
ments. Theſe, and the like ungodly Works of Riot and Excefs, are of much worfe Confequence, and
more profane the Lord's-Day, by a great deal, than the following lawful Callings and Employments would;
and, certainly, the Ways that naturally lead to them, fhould be moſt carefully avoided. The Book of Sports
it felf (which was but a Declaration put out by James I. and afterwards unhappily revived in the Days of
King Charles his Son) as odious, and licentious as it was eſteemed, did yet preſcribe ſuch Rules, as I ſhould
be glad were now obferved, in fome Places, in Honour of the Lord's-Day. No Liberties were allowed (by
that Proclamation, or Declaration) but with theſe Conditions and Reſtrictions: 1. That the Men and Wo-
men fhould have been at Divine Service. 2. At their own Parish-Churches. 3. To have no Liberty till
after Evening-Service was ended. 4. The People that belonged to One Parish were not to join in Recreation
with the People of Another Parish, but each to keep to their own Company.
I confeſs, I cannot fee, but, if innocent, modeft, and moderate Recreations, are to be allowed upon the
Lord's-Day, that any better Limitations, and Conditions can be fet to Peoples Liberties, than thefe. And
therefore till the People can be brought to confider Things better, and betake themfelves to wifer Counfels,
let Care be taken that thefe idle Hours be paffed with as little Offence as can be, to Virtue and Religion:
And that if any thing be done, at fuch Times, as the Laws and Canons will take hold of; let the Offenders
be certainly taken notice of, and purſued to Extremity. The Laws forbid all Swearing, Curfing, Drunken-
neſs, and Revelling; it will be hard for thoſe who meet (to take their Paftimes) on theſe Occafions, to avoid
the falling into fome of thefe Offences. Let not a Man of them be ſpared; make the fevereſt Examples of
them, that the Laws will allow; make it a shameful, or a painful, or a chargeable thing, to fwear an Oath,
to utter a Curſe, or to be Drunk, or to ufe any wanton Dalliance, on thefe Occafions, and you will quickly
*fee an End to thefe Affemblings: It will be fo uneafy a thing, to be upon the Guard, fo long, in a fufpected.
Company, that they will either refufe to meet at all, or will foon break the Meeting up; and, either Way,
be inoffenfive. I think the Laws that puniſh theſe Offences, may, by this means, be made as uſeful, as if
they did directly threaten and forbid fuch Meetings, which are the Occafions of them, and Incitements to
them. And thofe will be to be blamed, who fhall not contribute to put them in Execution, when there is
good Reafon.
There is another innocent and artful Way of cutting short at leaſt, if not preventing, thefe unfeaſonable Re-
creations. And that is, of not going ſo foon to Evening-Prayer, as ordinarily is dore, and lengthening out
the Time, when there, by Catechizing the young People. A prudent Man may, by theſe means, fteal an
Hour
472
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
Hour from theſe diſorderly Folks, and give it them again, in ſomething better for them. But how much
happier would it be, both for the Minifter and for themſelves, if these young People would be brought to
confider feriouſly, that theſe their idle Hours (as they account them) are, generally fpeaking, the only Hours
they have, of all their Life, to ſpend in good Reflections and Religious Meditations; to bethink themſelves
of what is paft, and to refolve upon Amendment for the future. The Excufe they make, is, that they have
no other time for Recreations, but the Sunday-Evenings. I doubt it is not true; I have not heard, the Peo-
ple of our Countries are fo famed for Diligence, and painful Labours, all the Week long. But, if we take
them at their Word, let us alſo aſk them what time they have, befides the Sunday-Evenings, for attending
to their Spiritual Concerns? When elſe they recollect their paſt Miſcarriages? When they confider to what
purpoſe they were fent into this World? In what manner they have led their Life in it? And whither they
are haftening every Day? And what Account they fhall be able to give to God, when he fhall fummon
them, by Death, to appear before him? They are, daily, called up early in the Morning by their Labours ;
and they return late from them, in the Evening; and very weary we may well prefume. The reft of their
Time is fpent in Eating, Drinking, and Refreſhing of themfelves; after which, as foon as their Fathers, or
their Maſters will permit, they halten them to Bed, and fall to Sleep immediately. Hear, O Father of un-
bounded Mercies, and incline thine Ear to all who pray for thoſe that pray not for themſelves; who let the
Sun rife every Day, and fet upon their Heads, without remembring their Creator, their Redeemer, and their
Judge! And is not this the daily and the weekly courfe, of moft Uneducated, Poor, and Labouring Poople?
And how much ought they, then, to value Sunday, which gives them eafy Opportunities of praying to God,
and praiſing him, of hearing and attending to his Word, of confeffing their Sins, imploring his Forgiveneſs,
and of afking every thing they ftand in need of? How little a part of fuch a Day, can they afford to lofe,
who have taken fo little Care, the fix foregoing ones? I am not, I muft own, for preffing a precife and ri-
gorous Obfervation of this Day, nor for filling Peoples Heads with falfe and fewish Notions of its Sanctifica-
tion. But I would have it carefully obferved; the Time allotted for the Church, with Gravity, with Seriouf-
nefs, and all Devotion; part of the reft, in fober Recollections, good Inftructions of our Families, and read-
ing fome good Book; the other part, in fuch Difcourfe, Vifit, or Friendly Entertainment, as is confiftent
with Sobriety, and Virtue, and Religion. Chriſtianity is a moſt ſweet, good-natured Inſtitution, and will
allow all eafy, inoffenfive Freedoms, even upon its higheſt Festivals, or its moft Solemn Fafts. But let all
Rude and Riotous Affemblings; all Clamorous Sports, and boisterous Exerciſes, and all undecent Liberties
both of the Hand and Tongue, be banished from this Day of Reft, and Holiness. The Article forbids a Man,
to work his own Works, on this Day, much more the Works that lead fo eafily to Sin, and moſt of all, the
acknowledged Works of Darkness.
3. Are there any who refuſe or neglect to ſend their Children and Servants to be in-
ſtructed in the Principles of the Chriſtian Religion, by the Miniſter of your Pariſh,
every Lord's-Day, at Evening Prayer?
3. It is the Duty of Parents, and of Maſters, to fend their Children, and Servants, to be inſtructed in
the Principles of the Chriftian Religion; nor can they do either them, or themſelves, any greater Service,
than in fo doing. They make them thereby wife to Salvation; and put them in the way of being uſeful
here, and happy hereafter. The Children that are beſt inſtructed, are like to be moſt dutiful and obe-
dient to their Parents; and the Servants that are beſt taught, are like to be moſt juſt and honeſt to their Ma-
fters. Why ſhould they not therefore, take all care, to have them well inftructed in the Chriftian Duties?
Children and Servants are very apt to give falſe Anfwers, to conceal Truths, and invent Lies, to fave them-
felves from Blame and Puniſhment. They are very apt to take what is none of theirs, to gratify fome pre-
fent longing they have; very apt to mifpend their Time, either in Idlenefs or Vicious Pleaſures, to feed
which, they often defraud their Superiors, either by felling their Goods underhand, or by keeping back part of
the Price they have received, or by buying too dearly for them; and by many other ways making Advantage
of their Ignorance. Now there is no way fo likely to keep Children and Servants, from falling into theſe
Offences, and to make them Juft, and True, Honeft, Faithful, and Confcientious, as the inftructing them,
and cauſing them to be inſtructed, in the Principles of the Chriftian Religion, which forbids all thefe wicked
Practices, and fecures to all Parents, the Duty and Obedience of their Children; to all Maſters, the juſt
Gains of their Servants Time and Labour; and to all People, the Truth and Honefty and Juftice of each
other. And nothing but Religious Principles can make Men truly honeft, at all Times, and in all Cafes.
And if People are not taught theſe Principles when young, they hardly ever learn them to good purpoſe. This
is the Reaſon the Church infifts ſo much upon the fending Children and Servants to be Catechifed; it is for the
publick Good, as well as for their own; the whole Parish is the better for dutiful Children and honeft Ser-
vants; and much the worſe for Difobedient, Falfe, Lying, and Thievifh Ones. Such therefore as neglect,
or refuſe to ſend their Children and Servants to be Catechifed, are very fit to be prefented, in order to their
Reproof and Puniſhment.
4.
Have
you any in
your
Pariſh not yet Baptized?
5. Are there any who have been Baptized, and likewiſe inftructed in the Church-
Catechifm, and yet have not been confirmed by the Biſhop?
6. Are there any Confirmed, and above Sixteen Years of Age, who do not Receive
the Sacrament of the Lord's-Supper, at leaſt three times in the Year, and particu-
larly at Easter?
4, 5, 6. I ſuſpect none can come under this 4th Article, but the Children of Quakers, and Anabaptifts
(if their Parents died whilft they were young) but if there be any others not Baptized, they ought to be dif-
covered,
CHARGE to
to his CLERGY.
473
covered, that due care may be taken to have them inftructed, and then Christened. After this, when they
come to Years of Underſtanding, they are to be Confirmed by the Biſhop, and if above Sixteen Years of Age,
are obliged to communicate three times in the Year at least. The Children of Believers enter into Covenant.
with God, by Chriſt, in Baptiſm, before indeed they underſtand what any Covenant means, or what is re-
quired of thofe who are to be Baptized; and they are made, thereby, Members of Chrift, Children of God,
and Inheritors of the Kingdom of Heaven, without knowing there are any fuch Perfons, Things, or Place.
This is a Wonder of Mercy upon God's part; for the Church affures us that- It is certain by God's-
Word, that Children, which are Baptized, dying before they commit actual Sin, are undoubtedly faved. In
lieu of this, the Children promife on their parts, but promiſe by their Sureties, without knowing it, to re-
nounce the Devil and all his Works, to believe in God, and to ferve him, (i. e. they promife Faith, Repen-
tance, and Obedience) which Promife, when they come to Age, themſelves are bound to perform. This
coming to Age, is coming to Years of Difcretion and Underſtanding; as foon as they come to difcern be-
tween Right and Wrong, Good and Evil, and know what is commanded and what forbidden. A Child's
Knowledge and his Duty grow together. His Underſtanding is not to be meaſured by his Years, nor by his
Memory, but by his fenfe of things, and apprehenfion: And fome young ones, we fee, will fooner by much
than Others, find out their Obligations to God and Man, and fet about diſcharging them. It is then the
apprehending what Vows and Promiſes of Faith, Repentance, and Obedience, their Sureties have laid them
under, that is indeed the coming to Age, which binds theſe young People to perform them : i. e. as ſoon as
they underſtand their Chriftian Duties, they muſt needs engage to diſcharge them. Now the Buſineſs of Con-
firmation on the Childrens part, is the renewing and confirming with their own Mouth, the Promiſe and
Vow which was made by their Godfathers, in Baptiſm; and acknowledging themſelves bound to believe
and perform, what was then undertaken for them. I fhould therefore be glad that none were brought to
Confirmation, but fuch as may be well ſuppoſed to have ſome Senſe and Underſtanding of what they under-
take, and not be able barely to anſwer to the Queftions of the Catechifm. I hope that no Body will think
himfelf not bound to perform his Baptiſmal Vows, becauſe he has not folemnly undertaken to do ſo, by be-
ing confirmed: Whether People are confirmed or no, they are under the fame Obligations to perform thoſe
Vows. Confirmation is by no means neceffary or effential to Baptifin; nor completive of it. It is an excel-
lent Inftitution of the Church, and ferves to very good purpoſes, but it is no Sacrament; and therefore thoſe
who have not flighted, and neglected it, but wanted it, either through Ignorance, or lack of Opportunity,
need not be much concerned, although they have received the Lord's-Supper, without being Confirmed. It
is fufficient (in the want of Opportunity) that Men be ready for it, and defirous of it, where and when it
may be had. And for ſuch as have received the Lord's Supper without it, they are preſumed to have done
already all that Confirmation ſuppoſes they ſhould do, and therefore are not proper Subjects of it. Such there-
fore as have received the Lord's Supper, fhould not come to Confirmations. But when things go Regularly,
the Children that have been Baptized, are to be brought to Church and there Catechized, and inftructed in
the Principles of the Chriſtian Relig on, and when they have a Reaſonable Senſe and Underſtanding of them,
are to be brought to the Biſhop and Confirmed, and, after that, are, at convenient Opportunities, to receive
the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The Church fuppofes them capable of this, at fixteen Years of Age;
fome are ſo, before, and others not, even Years after that Age: But a certain time is to be named, and
fixteen is as likely an Age as any other. And they are called upon at that Age, becauſe if they enter not,
whilft Young, they put it off for many Years, and fometimes do it not at all, till they come to die; where-
as by entring early on this Duty, they engage betimes in a Courſe of Virtue and Religion, which ftrengthens
them againſt the Temptations to which that warm Age is moſt liable, and fecures them all their Lives after.
This fuppofes alfo, that all young People fhould receive the Communion (the firſt time at leaft) from the
Hands of their proper Miniſter, in their own Parish Church, which is a' thing I would have obferved; he
is indeed the beſt Judge of their Capacity, and of their due Preparation.
7. Is
any Part of the Stock of the Church, or any Legacy Bequeathed to Pious or
Charitable Ufes, perverted, or concealed, or otherwife employed than was in-
tended by the Donor, and is it in fuch Hands as are eſteemed Reſponſible? And
do you know of any Augmentations of Vicarages or Curacies? When were they
made, and by whom? Are they Regiſtred, and made as Records, as the Law
requires ?
7. A Man cannot falfify his Truft, with more Injuftice and Wickedneſs in any Inftance, than in pervert-
ing and concealing the Legacies, bequeathed by good People, to the Benefit of Pariſhes, and Charitable Ufes;
nor does any thing fo difcourage the Living, from deſigning and performing theſe good Works, like the ſee-
ing the Charitable Benefactions of the Dead, abuſed or mifemployed, if not converted to private Ufe. No
Man can therefore exerciſe his Zeal, or take Pains on a better Occafion, than in feeing all fuch Gifts and
Legacies employed and put to the Ufes intended by the Donors; and in detecting all fuch Works of Dark-
nefs, as would fruftrate and make void the good Intentions of thoſe Pious Benefactors. The Church-wardens
muſt therefore beſtir themſelves, and fee that in every Pariſh, there be a good Book, wherein the Names of
their Benefactors are enrolled: The Time when they died; the Claufes or Parts of their Wills, by which they
bequeathed either Money, Land, or Houfes, carefully tranſcribed, and well attefted; together with a full
Account where thoſe Houſes and Lands lie; and what they are truly worth; how bounded, and in whoſe
Hands they are, and were. But they must take ſpecial care of Money (which is more periſhable, and liable
to loſs than either Land or Houſes) that it be put into fuch Hands, as are fecure and moft refponfible; they
muſt truſt no Man's Word or Promife, but muft have Bond; they must let it continue in no Man's Hand,
for fear, or Friendſhip, without fuch Security as the Laws allow, and require. All theſe things fhould be
fairly written, that they may be known to all that are concerned, and be Inftructions to the fucceeding
Trustees, and indeed to all Pofterity. Theſe things are to be well looked after, and the Church-wardens
3 B b
muft
474
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
muſt preſent according to the particular Branches of this Article; And, if they ſhould be negligent, the
Clergy will, I hope, diſcover what they know of theſe Particulars; that we may, all of us, ufe our beſt
Endeavours, to diſcountenance all Unrighteous Dealings, and fecure the Benefactions of thoſe who are gone
before, according to their good Intentions, and encourage Others to do the like.
8. Are there any Wills of Perfons Deceaſed, Concealed, or Unproved?
9. Are any Goods of Perfons Dying Inteftate, Adminiftred without lawful Au-
thority?
!
8, 9. The Concealing, and not proving of Wills, will always make it fufpicious, that fome Injury is in-
tended to be done to fome Parties, that are concerned: For he who intends honeftly, cometh to the Light;
and what he does will bear the Light. The Deceaſed had a Right to diſpoſe of what was theirs, to what
Perſons, and in what manner they faw fit. It is therefore a piece of great Injuftice to deprive them of this
Right, and it is downright ſtealing from thoſe to whom the Deceaſed had left any thing, to deprive them of
that advantage, by concealing a Will, and to transfer it to other People who have no Right to it; this is
robbing both the Dead and Living. The not proving a Will, does not always intend or do the fame Mif-
chief as concealing it, for the Parties concerned, may have the Advantages intended them in the Will, though
the Will is not proved, to fave Charges. But though this may fometimes happen, yet the Law would leave
no place for fraud and underhand dealing, and therefore knows no difference betwixt concealing a Will, and
not proving it: And how ſhall any one come to know, whether he is, or is not concerned in fuch a Man's
Goods or Eftate, but by the Probate of his Will, which is a Publick Act, and done by a Publick Officer, to
which all People may recur, without enquiring of an Heir or Executor, whofe intereft it may be to keep
them ignorant? There is alſo room for great Injuſtice to be done, by Perfons taking upon them to Adminifter
the Goods of fuch as die without Wills, who have no Authority to do fo; this the Law would remedy, by
putting it into the Hands of the Ordinary and his Officers to give out Letters of Adminiſtration, to fuch as
have moſt right to them, and who are likelieft to adminiſter with moft Juſtice and Honefty. And the Laws
making theſe Officers accountable for their Male-adminiftration, there is a great deal of Reaſon, that no
Body elſe ſhould take upon them to do their Work, without Authority. To do all Right therefore, both
to the Living and the Dead, the Church-wardens are to prefent all fuch, as they know, or hear, by common
fame, have either concealed any Will, or have not proved any Will, or have adminiftred the Goods of any
one who died without a Will, without lawful Authority, empowering them to do it.
10. Are there any who refufe to pay their Rates to the Repair of the Church, and
providing Books and other Neceffaries for the Service of Almighty God ?
10. There is no need of fhewing the Reaſonableneſs of all Peoples contributing to the bearing a Common
Burthen, it is of it ſelf fo plain; there fhould not therefore be fo much Trouble given to the Officers, as
I hear there is in collecting theſe Duties: But fince nothing elſe will make theſe People wifer, Preſentments
muft.
11. Are there any in your Pariſh, whom you know to be common Swearers, Curſers,
or Drunkards, or to live in Fornication, Adultery, or Inceft, or to lie under the
common Fame of fuch horrid Crimes?
11. Few or no People want to be convinced, that theſe are great and odious Sins, and fit to be punished, as
Fob fays, by the Judge. The Guilty do not, that I hear of, defend their own Practices; nor is there any
Advocate appears in their Behalf; the Judges, I believe, Ecclefiaftical and Secular, are ready and inclined to
puniſh, and the Laws have taken all Care imaginable to give them Power. From whence, then, can pro-
ceed the Impunity of thefe Offenders? Why, only from the want of Accufers. This is part of the
Church-wardens Office, and I know not how they will acquit themſelves of a great deal of Guilt, and of
partaking of other Peoples Sins, but by preſenting ſuch as they know are guilty of theſe provoking Offences;
or fuch as by common Fame lie under fuch Imputations. Great indeed is the Envy and Malice of fome Peo-
ple; and great is the Careleſneſs of others, in their Behaviour; and others are of weak Judgment, and over
credulous, and apt to take up things by Halves, and to mifconftrue many others, and willing to find out
Faults. And from theſe Springs ariſe a great many Calumnies and Slanders, that ſpread an evil Fame on
many People that are innocent: And therefore Care is to be taken that Credit be not given to loofe and idle
Reports, nor every thing that is faid to Peoples Prejudice, be looked upon as common Fame, or a Ground of
Accufation: But when there is fo much Reaſon, as moves good and honeft People to believe and report fuch
things of their Neighbours, who are not otherwiſe apt to take up Slanders, and ill Speeches againſt them,
there is then Reaſon enough to prefent upon Common Fame. For, Scandal and Offence are apt to rife where
ſuch Reports go current, without Controul or Notice taken, by fuch as are concerned to look after fuch Of-
And after all, as bad as the World is, there are but few, who are reputed Common Swearers, Curfers,
or Drunkards, or who are faid to live in Fornication, Adultery, or Incest, that are altogether wronged by Com-
mon Fame: The Conduct of ſuch People muſt be very faulty indeed, that gives Occafion to fuch Reports,
when there is no true Caufe for them; and even for that, they are refponfible.
I
TITLE
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
475
X
I.
TITLE III.
Concerning Church-wardens and Pariſh-Clerks..
RE your Church-wardens chofen every Year, according to the Law, and
Cuftom of the Pariſh?
AR
1. The Office of a Church-warden, if well difcharged, is not only of great Ufe, but carries a confiderable
deal of Trouble with it; and therefore, except fome few Priviledged Perfons, no one is, ordinarily, ex-
empted from bearing it. They are chofen every Year, that no one fhould be too long burthened with it;
and though fome Men hold it for two, or three, or more Years, yet they are to be fworn anew into it,
every Year, and if they are not fo, are not legal Church-wardens. They must be chofen every Year in
Eafter-Week, by the Minifter and Parishioners; but if they cannot agree, or if the Cuftom has been other-
wife, the Minifter chooſes one, and the Pariſh another, and in fome Places, both are chofen by the Parifh.
2. Have the former Church-wardens given up their Accounts, and delivered the
Money, or what elſe they had belonging to the Church, into the Hands of the
preſent Church-wardens?
2. That the old Church-wardens fhould give up their Accounts, and deliver what Money and Church-
Utenfils they have, into the Hands of their Succeffors, is very reaſonable, not only to fhew they have been
honeft and faithful Stewards for the Pariſh, but that the Parishioners may fee how the Rates and Sums of
Money gathered from them, have been expended and laid out; and know, either what they ſtill owe, or
what is left over and above for the new Church-wardens. Theſe Accounts are for the Satisfaction of the
Pariſh, for the Credit and Diſcharge of the Old Officers, and for Help and Information to the New: And
where they are neglected to be given up, the People will have great Reaſon to think themſelves cheated and
ill uſed.
3. Is fine White-Bread, and wholſome Wine provided againſt every Communion,
according to the Number of the Communicants, by the Curate and Church-war-
dens, at the Charges of the Pariſh?
3. I underſtand that in fome Places of this Dioceſe, there hath been a Cuftom, that the Minifter fhould
be put to provide Bread and Wine for all the Communicants at Eafter, which are probably more, than
communicate all the Year befides, to his very great Expence. I am fure there could be no Reafon good
enough to introduce fuch a Cuſtom at firft, nor is there any good enough to continue it on; and therefore
I refolve to have it altered, as being exprefsly against the Rubrick, and the Laws of the Land. I have reafon
to think the Cuſtom is not of long Date or Standing; but be it of what Date it will, it is, and always was
Oppreſſion; why muft the Clergy of thofe Places, be fo ill diftinguiſhed from the reft of their Brethren
throughout Her Majefty's Dominions? For fuch a Cuftom prevails no where elfe.. I wonder how the Clergy
came to fuffer, or ſubmit to it, at first, and did not uſe the Remedy that God had put into their Hands,
namely, the Law, to repel fuch an Injustice: But it muſt be fuffered no longer; the laft Law is not yet fifty
Years old, that (by confirming the Rubrick) exprefsly fays, The Bread and Wine for the Communion, hall
be provided by the Curate, and the Church-wardens, at the Charges of the Parish. And the Rubrick juft be-
fore fuppofes the fame thing- And if any of the Bread and Wine remain unconfecrated, the Curate fhall
have it to his own Ufe. If the Curate (which in all theſe Places is the Rector, or Vicar to whom the Cure of
the Pariſh is committed) were ſuppoſed to find the Bread and Wine at his own Charges, how improper had
it been, to have given him what no one elſe could have any Right to? Whereas it is now given him, al-
though it was indeed the Parish's, who paid for it. And if it be affirmed, that this Cuftom only relates to
the finding the Bread and Wine at Eafter, let it be anſwered, that the Law makes no Difference betwixt
Eafter and Whitfuntide, or any other Time: For, the very next Rubrick that follows fays, And Note,
That every Parishioner fhall communicate, at the leaft, three times in the Year, of which, Eafter to be one; and
therefore commands the Bread and Wine to be furniſhed at the Charges of the Parish, at Eafter as much as
any other Time. The Church-wardens therefore will, I hope, be quickly convinced, how unrighteous
ſuch a Practice is, and how directly contrary to the Law of the Land; and do herein as they ought to do,
and as all the Parishes in England do, and always have done : And if they will not, muſt expect to be pro-
ceeded againft, according to Law, with all Severity.
4. Have you a Pariſh-Clerk of the Age of twenty-one Years, of Sober Life, and
well qualified for his Office?
5. Is he paid his accuſtomed Salary, Dues, and Perquifites, belonging to his Place?
6. Doth he keep the Church clean, and carefully look to the Books, and all Things
committed to his Charge?
7. Doth
476
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
7. Doth he Open and Shut the Church-Doors at due Times, and Toll the Bell,
or Bells, at the uſual Hours before Prayers, that People may have fufficient Warn-
ing to come to Church?
4, 5, 6, 7. It is very fit that all who any ways relate to the Church, be of fober Life, and rightly quali-
fied for their Office. The Parish-Clerks were heretofore in fome low fort of Orders, and had their Part in
aſſiſting at the Divine Service, and they ſtill keep the Name of Clerici, and ought to be of exemplary and
good Behaviour. And if they diſcharge their Office well, eſpecially that Part of it, of keeping the Church
clean, they will deſerve and ought to have their Salary duly paid, and none of their accuſtomed Perquifites
withheld. But if they are negligent, or flovenly in their Churches, or live not foberly, they are to be pre-
fented, and, if they are found incorrigible, they are to be removed from their Places, to make Room for
thoſe who will live, and do their Buſineſs better.
TITLE
IV.
I.
I
S
Concerning the Churches and Chapels, with their Poffeffions and Utenfils.
Church on with the Chancel,
your Church or Chapel, with the Chancel, and Tower, or Steeple, in good
Repair, and decently kept within and without ?
2. Is the Roof well covered, the Windows well glazed, and the Floor kept well
paved, plain and even ?
1, 2. The Building, Repairing, and Adorning Churches, was heretofore eſteemed fo meritorious a Part
of Religion, that our Forefathers had but little need of being conſtrained to look after it, by Laws and In-
junctions. I do believe they ſometimes placed too much Confidence in fuch Works, and looked upon the:n
as Atonements for great Offences. But what then? Is it not ftill an Indication of an excellent Devotion,
and of a Mind that truly honours God, and intends to promote his Service, to lay out Money upon fuch
Occafions? There is nothing draws fo near to Superftition, as an unreaſonable Dread of it. When the Ru-
lers of the Jews would move our Saviour in Behalf of the Centurion's Servant, they come to him and tell
him He loveth our Nation, and hath built us a Synagogue, Luke vii. 5. And any one may foretel, with-
out the Gift of Prophecy, that unleſs this bountiful good publick Spirit, prevail a great deal more among us,
and be more encouraged; an hundred Years will bring to the Ground a huge Number both of our Temples
and our Synagogues. In the mean time, all care imaginable muſt be taken, to keep them up in good Repair;
that Men may ferve, God with Security, with Decency, and Cleanlineſs, and in the beſt Order; which
things contribute, more than People think of, to the raifing and maintaining their Devotion :-There is
one thing, I obferve, in the Churches I have ſeen among you, that wants to be amended; and that is, the
great Unevenness of the Floors, occafioned by the frequent Burials in the Churches. The way to remedy this,
is to make it more chargeable to break up Ground in Churches, than it now is; let ſuch a Rate be ſet upon
it, as will be ſure to pay for the Work of making the Ground even; and this, in time, may repreſs the
Vanity and Pride (for fuch undoubtedly it is, in mean People) of burying the Dead within the Churches;
a thing the Antient Chriftians forbore to do, for more than fix hundred Years, not only out of Reverence to
thoſe Places that were facred to the Service of God, but out of Prudence alfo, that the Dead might not
annoy the Living. However, till inconvenient Cuſtoms can be broken, let us make it as hard as we can to
keep them.
3.
Is your Church-yard fufficiently fenced?
4.
5.
Hath any one incroached upon it, or cut down any Trees that were growing
therein ?
Have any Bells, Lead, Timber, or other Materials of your Church, or Chapel,
been embezelled, and by whom?
3, 4, 5. The Church-yard was firft incloſed, and confecrated, to be the Common Burial-place of the
Dead, and therefore is to be carefully fenced and looked after, that no Indecencies may be committed in it,
by ſuch Beaſts as are apt to root up the Earth, and fometimes uncover Dead Bodies. It is the Freehold of
the Incumbent, and therefore muft not be incroached upon; the Trees are planted there for Ornament, and
Shelter, and for Repairing of the Chancel, and therefore are not to be cut down for any other ufe. The
embezelling of any Church-Materials, is juft as much miſchief and damage to the Pariſh, as they must be
put to, to purchaſe the like, and therefore fuch Injuſtice ought in all Reaſon to be preſented, in order to be
profecuted.
6. Have you a decent Font of Stone in your Church, for the Adminiſtration of the
Sacrament of Baptiſm ?
6. People were at firſt (eſpecially if there was any great number of them) baptized in Rivers, Brooks,
Ponds, or other Waters that they met with accidentally. But if fingle Perfons, or private Families were to
be Baptized, it is very likely it was done in private Houſes, in fome convenient Place, or Veffel. St. Paul
feems
3
1
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
477
feems to have been fo Baptized himſelf, Acts ix. 17. and fo to have Baptized the Converted Jailor, and his
Houſhold, Acts xvi. 33. and in all likelihood, it was generally fo in times of Perfecution; the Chriftians
(though bold to Death, when there was any neceffary Call, and juft Occafion) never cauſeleſsly provoking
their Adverſaries, either Jews or Gentiles, by publickly performing their Offices, when they could do it
privately, with fafety and the fame Advantage. But when God had turned the Hearts of the Governors
towards them, and the Empire was in the Hands of Chriftians, they had liberty to do as they would, and
they built great and coftly Baptifteries (or places to baptize in) fometimes adjoyning to, fometimes near,
the great Churches; and by degrees came to ſet up Fonts in the manner we now have them, within the
Church Doors; they were uſually made of Marble, or the hardest Stone they could get, as well for Cleanli-
neſs, and Preſervation, as that the Confecrated Water ſhould not be fucked up by a Spongy, or leſs ſolid Veſſel.
7.
Have you a decent Table, commodiouſly placed in the Chancel, for the Celebra-
tion of the Holy Communion, with a decent Carpet always over it, and a fair
Linnen-Cloth to cover it when there is a Communion?
8. Have you a Silver Chalice, with a Cover, and a Flaggon of Pewter, or purer
Metal, for the Wine, and alfo a Silver Plate for the Bread, with a fair Linnen-
Cloth to cover the Confecrated Bread and Wine?
7, 8. All People who are ſeriouſly affected with the Matters of Religion, do immediately fall into this
Reckoning, that the greateſt and moſt myſterious Duties of it, are to be performed, not only with the greateſt
Veneration and Awe of Mind, but with the greateſt outward Honour and Solemnity. This Conclufion is, in
it felf, but reaſonable and juft; and yet, unleſs it be reſtrained, with great Prudence, it will grow into great
Extravagance, and wonderful Excels. The indulging to this Thought had (in the Days of our Forefathers)
loaded the Altars of the Churches with Silver, Gold, and Precious Stones; cloathed the Priests with the fineft
and moſt coſtly Linnen, and embroidered Vestments; and filled their Wardrobes with fuch Wealth, that, pro-
bably, the very hope of fpoiling them, was a Temptation to their Adverfaries. In a word, the Blefjed Sa-
crament was attended with fo many gorgeous and furprizingly glittering Circumftances, that the good, plain,
fimple Duty, ſeemed to be loft and fmothered with its own Pomp, and Ornaments. The Reformation ſet
thefe Matters right again; reftored Religion to its liberty, and free breathing, and ordained the Celebration of
theſe holy Myfteries, in fuch a ferious fober manner, fo void of all unneceffary Pomp, and Oftentation, that
a Man muſt have but little ſenſe of decency and fitneſs, that is offended at it, on the ſcore of Ceremony. No-
thing but decency, and cleanlineſs is here injoyned; and I am thoroughly aſhamed to think this cannot be
obtained in many Places. What fhall we fay, when the Veffels of the Lord's Houfe are of ſo coarſe a Me-
tal, that many People of the Pariſh could not eat and drink out of the like, at home? Let David fpeak to
them, as he did to Nathan, 2 Sam. vii. 2. See now, I dwell in an Houfe of Cedar, but the Ark of God
dwelleth within Curtains. He was aſhamed of it, and preſently refolved to build a Temple. Some fuch Re-
ligious Ingenuity, will, I hope, at one time or another, provide becoming Receptacles for the Sacred Symbols,
in places where that care is not already taken. But, what is wanting in Coft, let it be made up in Cleanli-
ness. If the Paten, and the Chalice be not Silver, let them be bright, and fweet, however. Let the Table
be decent; it is, on theſe Occafions, the Lord's Table. Let it be always covered with a decent Carpet;
and when there is a Sacrament, with a fair Linnen Cloth, with a fine Napkin alfo to cover the confecrated
Elements; not to conceal them from the Peoples Eyes, or make theſe things myfterious; but to beget Reſpect,
and a degree of Seriouſneſs in their Minds on theſe Occafions, and to prevent fome inconvenient Accidents.
It is not, I think, enough, to ſay, that People are to approach the Holy Table, with clean Hands, and
pure Hearts-But there is all the need imaginable of raifing up their Minds, quickning their Devotion,
kindling their Affection, and fixing their Attention, at theſe folemn Times, by all the innocent and leaſt art-
ful Methods we can think on; to which I know of nothing that contributes more, than the performance of
thefe Rites, in a grave ſerious manner, in decent order, and with all the care and cleanlineſs that can be uſed.
9. Is there a convenient Reading-Deſk and Pulpit?
10. Is there a comely Surplice provided and waſhed at the Charge of the Pariſh?
11. Have you a large Bible of the laft Tranflation, with Two Common-Prayer-
Books, both in Engliſh and Welſh?
9, 10, 11. As to the reading Prayers in Engliſh, or Welſh, I refer you to what I have faid concerning
Preaching, Tit. I. A. 5. The Edification of the most is ever to be firft in the Minifter's Confideration.
12. Have you a Regiſter-Book in Parchment?
13. Are all Perfons who are Chriſtened, Married, or Buried in your Pariſh, duly
Regiſtred therein from time to time ?
12, 13. The Regiftring Peoples Chriftnings, Marriages, and Burials, hath often proved of great and uſe-
ful Confequence. It hath helped to determine Peoples Age; the Legitimacy of their Birth; and certainty of
their Marriage, which otherwiſe might have been difputed; it hath intitled People to certain Benefits, that
were appropriated for fuch and fuch Places, Towns, Hundreds, or Counties; and it is, if kept with Care,
and according to the Injunctions of the Canons, admitted for good Evidence, in Law: And moreover the
3 C c
Minifter
478
Biſhop of St. ASAPH's
The
!
Minifter knows, by this Book, when People are Old enough to be called upon to prepare for the Communion.
It is in truth of ſo much Uſe, that it is fome wonder how it came not to be publickly injoyned till 1538
or thereabouts. They muſt have had fomething or other like it, before that Time; for, many and notable
Matters could not poffibly be decided, without fuch Certificates.
14. Is the Houſe of your Rector or Vicar, with the Barns, Stables, and all the Out-
houſes kept in good Repair?
14. I have already ſpoken to the keeping the Incumbent's House in good Repairs, Tit. I. A. 2. But I
can pafs by no Opportunity of infifting again upon it; it is fo fit, fo reaſonable, ſo juft, and neceffary a
Tie upon all Clergymen, that if they have any ſenſe of Honeſty, or Gratitude to their Religious Founders
and Benefactors, they will carefully diſcharge their Obligation: And have the fame Regard to their Succeffors,
which their Predeceſſors had, or fhould have had, to Them. By our Ecclefiaftical Law the Bifhops are re-
quired—————To put the Clergy in mind of keeping their Houſes in fufficient Reparations. But what if they neg-
lect to do as they are bid? Why, if they do it not in two Months Time, the Bishop is to take care (by Seque-
ftration of their Benefices) that it be done out of their Profits. Othob. f. 55. 2. But to fave the Biſhop and
the Incumbent this trouble, it were much better, the Clergy would follow the Injunctions of King Edw. VI.
in 1547, and the fame repeated in 1559 by Queen Elizabeth, and fet afide the fifth Part of their clear Re-
venue for this purpoſe, till all were finiſhed, and afterwards to maintain them in good Condition, which a
much lefs proportion would do. It has been refolved by the Judges in the King's-Bench, 12 Jac. I. that
Dilapidation is a fufficient Caufe of Deprivation. I fhould be loth to find a Man fit to be made an Exam-
ple, of this kind; but truly, I intend to look with much leſs pity on this Fault, than on many others; be-
caufe I fee that Pity to the prefent Incumbent, may very eaſily become Cruelty to his Widow, if ſhe be fued
by his Succeffor, and he recovers Damages of her; or great hardship to that Succeffor, if he recovers none,
and finds his Houſe in a ruinous Condition.
Has
15. any Money been left, or paid by any one, to repair the Incumbent's Houſe,
which has not been employed to that Uſe and Purpoſe?
15. A Man would be unpardonable, who fhould fue for Dilapidation-Cofts, and fhould not expend upon
the Premiffes, what he recovered on that Score: He has two Years time allowed to do it in; but, after that,
he forfeits to the Queen double to what was recovered but not applied to the proper Ufe: If any ſuch Fraud
or Negligence be known, the Party guilty of it, is to be prefented.
16. Have you a perfect Terrier in Parchment, ſpecifying all Lands, Meadows, Or-
chards, Gardens, Tenements, and Cottages belonging to your Parfonage or Vica-
rage, and fhewing what Tithes, Portions of Tithes, or other Profits within and
without your Pariſh, do belong unto the fame?
17.
Is one Copy of fuch a Regiſter kept by the Miniſter of your Pariſh, and ano-
ther delivered into the Biſhop's Regiſtry ?
16, 17. The Decay of Houses, Barns, and Stables, is a thing that falls under the Eye and Obſervation
of all People that pafs by them, and is therefore eafily complained of, and may be prevented, or be made
Amends for; but the Incroachment upon Lands, Orchards, and Gardens, may be done ſo inſenſibly, and
by Degrees, that even the Party injured may not be immediately aware of it; or an Incumbent may by
Compact, or at leaſt Connivance, take no notice of it; and fo it paffes from his Succeffors, without Recom-
pence, and without Remedy, if it be not timely difcovered. To prevent theſe Damages, and Diminutions
of the Church's Revenue (whether they be occafioned by the Incumbent's Negligence or Naughtiness) it is
required, that an exact and well attefted Terrier be made of all Lands, Meadows, Orchards, &c. belonging
to the Parfonage or Vicarage; and ſhewing what Tithes, Portions of Tithes, or other Profits within and
without the Pariſh, do belong to the fame. One Copy of this is to be put into the Hands of the Regiſter
of the Dioceſe, and another to be kept by the Incumbent of the Pariſh, and delivered to his Succeffors, for
their continual Ufe and Information. I will take this Occafion to adviſe the Clergy of this Dioceſe, to
write down all the Obfervations they ſhall make, in the Courſe of their Miniſtry, concerning their Houses,
Glebes, Tithes, Modus's, or whatever elſe they think uſeful and fitting to be known, and tranſmit them in
a Book, to thoſe who are to follow them; that they may give them all the Light they can, and prepare them
againſt the Practices of a Sett of Men, that are always apt and ready to impofe on their New Miniſter.
This I only fay by way of Advice; but for the Terrier, I require it without fail, and will not be fatisfied,
till it be delivered to the Register; that all who ſhall hereafter have Occafion to confult that Office, may be
ſure to find their Satisfaction in theſe Matters; that the Clergy may run into no Inconvenience, by making
new unuſual Claims themſelves; nor fuffer the Church to be defpoiled of what appears to have been formerly
its Right, by others. And I hope the Ignorance in which abundance of Incumbents live of theſe Matters,
will convince them how needful it is, to have a Terrier to inform them, and to which they may appeal.
TITLE
CHARGE to, his CLERGY.
479
I.
TITLE V.
Concerning Hofpitals, School-mafters, Phyficians, Chirurgeons, and Midwives.
S there in your Pariſh any Hoſpital, Alms-houſe, or Free-School?
Is
2. What Revenue belongs to each of them?
3. Are they governed, and the Revenue imployed according to the Will of the
Donors ?
1, 2, 3. Something I have faid already on this Head, under Tit. II. A. 7. But that related chiefly to pri-
vate Legacies. Thefe Articles refer to Publick Charities, fuch as Hofpitals, Alms-houſes, and Free-Schools.
The Enquiries are, what is the Revenue belonging to them? And how it is employed? The Way in many
Places of England, is, to have the Names of all their Benefactors written in a fine, large, and fair Hand,
and fet up in handfome Frames, in fuch a Part of the Parish Church, as is moft confpicuous, and eafieft to
come at; where all may read-In what Year, fuch a Perfon died, and left fuch a Sum of Money to ſuch
and fuch Ufes; or, fo much Land, or Houfes, to this or that Purpoſe. By this means, all the Pariſh come to
know their publick Benefactors, commemorate them with Praiſe, and glorify God for them: And by theſe
means, they come to underſtand, who are qualified for Hofpitals and Alms-houſes, and what their Allowance
is to be, and whence it is to come. I think fuch a Cuſtom as this might be followed very uſefully, in Wales,
it being naturally fitted to prevent the Mifapplication, Abuſe, or perverting of Publick Charity. But, what-
ever other Courſes may be taken to fecure the imploying thefe Benefactions according to the Donor's IVill,
the Bishop, as the general Overfeer of all good Works within his Jurifdiction, is to enquire, whether they
are indeed employed, and ufed, as they ought? And to that purpoſe, every honeft good Church-awarden, will
contribute all he can, by making honeft, true and faithful Anſwers to thefe Articles: And fhould they fail
in this their Duty, I queftion not but the Incumbents will do all Juftice to themſelves and Me; and indeed to
all the Dead and Living, that are concerned in theſe Benefactions.
4. Doth any
any one in
your
from the Ordinary?
Pariſh teach School publickly or privately, without Licenſe
5. Doth the School-mafter come to Church himſelf, and caufe his Scholars alfo to
come duly at the Times of Divine Service?
6. Doth he diligently inftruct his Scholars in the Church-Catechiſm ?
7. Do
any in your Pariſh practiſe Phyfick, or Chirurgery, or undertake the Office
of a Midwife, without Licenſe?
4, 5, 6, 7. It is of great Confequence, both to the Parents, and the Children (not to mention here the
Common-wealth) what fort of Men are trufted with the Education of young People. And therefore the
Laws of the Land, which acknowledge, own, and encourage, no other Church-Government, but what is
Epifcopal (though they both tolerate, and defend from Penalties, all that diffent from it, and call themſelves
Proteftants) will have no School-mafter, either publick or private, but what fhall be allowed and licenſed by
the Bishop, 23 Eliz. c. 1. §. 6. and I fam. I. c. 4. and 14 Ch. II. c. 4. and Canon 77. 79. and al-
though theſe Laws are of much elder Date than the Act of Toleration; yet whoever fhall read it carefully,
will find they are not, in this Particular, voided and annulled by it. Statutes are not removed by Conftruc-
tion, Confequences, or imagined Inferences, but by expreſs and poſitive Revocation and Repeal of them. And
therefore no Body has yet leave to teach Scholars, but fuch as fhall be licenſed thereto, by the Bishop; all
others are, and ought to be prefented, and are as liable to Penalties as formerly they were.
I.
H
TITLE VI.
Concerning Church-Officers.
ATH any Church-Officer, Regiſter, Proctor, or Apparitor exacted more
than their ordinary and legal Fees ?
2. Have any of them for any Reward, Excufed, or unduly Difmiffed any Offender
that hath been preſented?
3. Hath any Apparitor cited any Perfon unlawfully, without a Citation firſt had
from the Court?
4.
Hath
any
taken a Reward for concealing any Offence, or avoiding the Puniſh-
ment of the Offender?
7
༢
5. What
480
The Bishop of St. AS A PH's
¿
5. What Commutations have you heard have been paid by Offenders, and to whont,
fince the laſt Act of Grace, in 1709?
1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The Corruption and Exaction of Ecclefiaftical Officers is very carefully to be looked after,
prefented, and purſued to Puniſhment. That thofe who are employed in correcting the Abufes, and Enor-
mities of Others, may by no means efcape themſelves, if guilty. And, to this End, if any one be afraid to
make a publick Preſentment of their Offences, let them take care to give me Notice in as private manner as
they will, (but with all Truth and Certainty) wherein they are aggrieved; that Order may be taken for
their Redreſs, and the Removal of fuch Offenders.
H
AVING gone through theſe Articles in the plaineft and moſt uſeful manner I could think on, I
have now a few things to fay to you diftinctly, my Brethren of the Clergy; they have not, indeed,
any Relation to the Articles foregoing, but I faften them to them, for the better Conveyance of them,
and that you might have them always by you. I have had (and ſhall again have, when it pleaſes God) occa-
fion to ordain Priefts and Deacons, and to Collate and Institute to Benefices, when they fhall be vacant, in my
Diocefe, fuch as I fhall judge to be duly qualified; But I muft, in a great meaſure, depend upon the Teftimo-
nials of the Clergy, for the Virtue and good Behaviour of fuch as come either to be Ordained or Inftituted by
me; becauſe I cannot be preſumed to know them perfonally my ſelf. My Requeft is therefore to you all,
that before you give your Hands to any one's Letters Teftimonial, you would ſeriouſly confider theſe few fol-
lowing Particulars.
•
First, Whether you are perfonally acquainted with the Party to be recommended by you; or only Subſcribe
upon the Credit of thoſe you write under; and think with your felves, if this laft Part be fit to offer to your
Biſhop, either in Confcience, or good Breeding?
Secondly, Whether, if you are perfonally acquainted with the Party, you are truly perfwaded that he is in-
deed what you have repreſented him, in your Certificate; I do not mean in the moſt rigorous and exact Inter-
pretation of Words, according to the Letter, but in fuch a fair and equitable Senſe, as wife and honeft Peo-
ple take them, and uſe them in their Intercourſe with one another ?
•
Thirdly, Although the Party may be honeſtly recommended by you, as a Perfon both of good Learning,.
and good Manners, yet whether you truly think him fitly qualified for the Order of Priesthood, or of a Dea-
con, or for fuch a Benefice, or Cure, as the Letters Teftimonial are defigned to recommend him to. For, cer-
tainly, a Man may be a good Scholar, and a good Man, and yet not fit to be ordained a Prieft or Deacon,
by reaſon of fome Imperfections. And a Man may be a good Priest, and yet not fit for fuch or fuch a
Cure, or Benefice, as it may happen, upon many Accounts. I think you cannot but fee the Reaſonableness
of confidering theſe few Things, when you are fought to, for fubfcribing Teftimonials. And I would have
you (if you pleaſe) imagine I am by, and wanting to be fatisfied in thofe Demands; and that you give by
your Subfcription the fame Account, you would to me in Perfon. But, it were better ftill, if you would
ſeriouſly reflect upon the Miſchief you may do, and on the Guilt you may contract your felves, by leading
me into Miſtakes, and caufing me, by giving Credit to your Names, to put unworthy People into the
Miniſtry, or to prefer unworthy Ones to Benefices, Cures, or Schools. How will you anſwer this to God,
to Me, or to the Places where theſe People muſt officiate, who may be greatly injured by theſe means, and
that for many Years? I intreat you therefore, by the Power of thefe Confiderations, not to fuffer your felves
to be corrupted, by the Facility of your Temper, your Eafinefs and good Nature, by Importunity, by
Friendſhip, or the Fear of any Man, nor by the Hopes of receiving the like Favour, to give your Name to
any one's Certificate or Letters Teftimonial, unleſs you fecretly, and in your Heart, approve of what you fay
therein. I cannot aſk lefs (nor do I aſk any more) than that you would not induce Me to believe of Men,
what you do not your felves truly believe of them. It may be, fome of you will think thefe Terms are hard,
and hinder you from paying Acts of Friendſhip and Civility to one another, by making it fo difficult to fub-
ſcribe your Names, upon Occafion. In anfwering to this, I fay, let Truth and Justice go along with
Friendship and Civility, and then the more of them, the better. But where thoſe things are feparated, Civi-
lity to Men is Rudeneſs, Injury, and Miſchief to Religion; and ſuch a Friendſhip of the World is, as
St. James tells us, Enmity to God. One of my Aims is indeed, hereby to have the Clergy live in friendly
Awe, and Reſpect of one another; that they may fo behave themſelves, both to their Brethren, and their
People, that when there is Occafion for a Character, it may be both unreaſonable and unjuſt, to refuſe a
good one to each other. There will be always Room enough (in ſpite of all the Care that can be taken)
for the Partialities of Acquaintance, Neighbourhood, and Inclination, to take Place, in Letters Teftimonial; and
therefore I have no Apprehenfion of creating any Miſunderſtanding among the Clergy, by requiring this Ex-
actneſs at their Hands. I only hope to ftir up fuch a Jealoufy among them, that, unleſs they live virtuoufly
and ſtudiouſly, they fhall defpair of getting their Neighbour's Hand and Approbation, when they ſtand in
need of it; without which, they will in vain attempt to make their way to any Favours I can fhew them.
I will always pay, you may be ſure, that Deference that is due, to the Characters the Gentlemen of the
Laity think fit to give the Clerks they now and then recommend to me. But I, who am convinced that the
Clergy know each other much better, and in another manner, than moſt Gentlemen can do, ſhall never be
content to take a Clerk on Truft, without the Teftimonials of his Neighbouring Brethren of the Ministry.
And therefore let it be a Rule among you, that you make your felves as valuable as you can, each to the
other; for, certainly, the Eſteem you ſhall derive from thence, will be of greateſt Uſe and Service to you.
I preſs this Matter of an honeft, true, and Confcientious Subſcription of Letters-Teftimonial, with a more
than common Zeal and Fervency, not only becauſe I am obliged to do it, by the Canons and Injunctions of my
Superiour Metropolitan, but from a little Indignation I have alfo had, to find my felf preſented with fome
Certificates, well figned and fealed indeed, but which I thought, had little Regard to Truth in them. I have
forgotten, and ſhall to all Intents and Purpoſes forget, thoſe Names, if they do not refreſh my Memory by
coming again in my Way upon the like falfe Errand: I promiſe my felf they never will; and hope that
whenever you fubfcribe your Name to Letters-Teftimonial, you will not fail to make fome Confcience (as we
fay) of impoſing on your Bishop; who has it in his Heart (and bows his Knees, in Thanks to Him that put
it there) to do you all the Good he can, according to the Meaſure of his Skill and Power.
Another
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
481
Another thing, wherein I would require your Care and Caution, is in the Matter of Titles. A Biſhop is not
allowed by the Canons, to Ordain any one, without a Title, i. e.. unleſs he has a Right to fome means of
Livelihood and Subfiftence, either by an Eſtate in his own Hands, or by way of Recompence for doing Duty.
If He neglect this Rule, he is, it feems, obliged to provide the Party fo Ordained fome Place in the Church,
and to furniſh him with all Neceffaries till he has done it, Can. 33. The Wiſdom of this Rule may ap-
pear, in part, by the Infamy and Scandal, which thoſe few miferable Men bring upon the Church, who
ftroll about the World like Impudent and Vagrant Beggars; and fhew their Orders for a Pafs, to licence
them as it were, to do their Sacred Function all the Diſhonour they can; this Canon would prevent theſe
Scandals, in great meaſure, by forbidding fuch to be ordained, who have no prefent fettled maintenance, nor
are in any near and reaſonable proſpect of one. You know the Biſhop of this Diocefe, is fo great a Patron,
that you can hardly bring a Title, for Ordination, but it muſt be the certainty of fome Curacy within his Pa-
tronage. Now I am very well affured, that not one Third part of the Benefices (I would I could not ſay
Half) within my Jurifdiction, can bear the Charge of keeping a Curate; I would not therefore have the
Rectors, or the Vicars of fuch poor Benefices pretend to give a Title of Curate, when every Body knows they
have much to do to live themſelves, upon their Profits. Age and Infirmities, and long continued Abfence,
muft indeed be evermore confidered, as Reafons for the keeping Curates, even in fmall and poor Parishes;
but thoſe are Cafes that cannot lie concealed from me. Where nothing of this happens, I intend not to ad-
mit fuch Promiſes of Curacies, for Titles. In a word, whatever Titles are offered to me for Orders, fhall
be Real Titles. They who certify to me, that they admit fuch or ſuch a One, to be their Curate, fhall
certainly have him for their Curate, and fhall pay him as their Curate, and that, not for the preſent turn, a
Week, or Month, or Quarter, but as long as I fhall judge convenient. For fince it is this Collufion that
helps, above all other ways, to overſtock the Church with Labourers, I think we cannot guard too much
againſt it, where they are fo little wanted. I defire, therefore, all that are concerned, as well Rectors and
Vicars, as thoſe who fhall come to be Ordained, to take this Intimation for a timely warning, what Certi-
ficates to fend or bring to me; for I have told them what I will accept, and what ſhall find no Place with
me; and after this, they will owe their Difappointments to themfelves, if they come not rightly qualified.
I do alfo require them to give me a Fortnight's Notice before the Ordination Sunday, that I may have Time
to enquire about them; and, together with this Notice, to fend me their Age, Country, College, Degree,
and the Place where they have laft lived, together with Letters Dimiffory, if they belong to any other Dioceſe.
Another thing I have to mention to you, is, That all who are not difcharged by Act of Parliament, from
paying Tenths, fhould do it punctually, every Year, at the Time appointed. It was before an Act of Justice,
and to be paid like other ſtated Taxes: But now it is become (through the unexampled Goodneſs of the
Queen) an Act of Charity alfo to our poor Brethren of the Clergy, to whofe Relief and Comfort it is de-
figned and given. That Royal Bounty is, every Day, preparing, by wife Methods, to be made moſt uſeful
and extenſive. And I gladly take this Opportunity, of acquainting you, in fhort, how that Affair ſtands;
that you may no longer wonder, nor caufelefsly complain, that the Fruits of fo excellent a Defſign have hi-
therto appeared fo fmall. It is, I affure you, through no one's Fault, or Negligence: There is neither want
of good Will, nor of Application, in the Parties concerned, to whom theſe Matters are entruſted; but a
moſt Noble and Religious Zeal appears, to anſwer the good Purpoſes for which they are incorporated. The
yearly Revenue of the First-Fruits and Tenths, did ufually (at a Medium of twenty Years) amount to about
17000l. per Annum. But this was charged with Grants, and Penfions (and many of them for Life) to the
Amount of about 11000l. per Annum, befides an Arrear of upwards of 20000l. which was to be diſcharged,
and has for fome Years laſt paſt been, and is ſtill diſcharging. From this Revenue there has been a Deduc-
tion made of ſomething more than 3000l. per Annum, by diſcharging the Tenths of as many Small Livings
(under 50l. per Annum) as amounted to that Sum. So that the 17000, is reduced to 14000, out of which
the Grants and Penfions must be paid, which, by Death, and other prudent Methods of the Governours,
are now alfo reduced to between 9 and 10000l. per Annum. So that, allowing a Decreaſe of Firft-Fruits,
by the forefaid Diſcharge of Small Livings, the Governours will not have (according to the beft Computa-
tion I can make) above 3000l. per Annum to diſpoſe of, till it pleaſes God to order otherwiſe. This is the
State of the Revenue, when I have added, that there is a Debt of fome Thouſand Pounds to be recovered by
the Governours, in fome reaſonable Time. Now, whoever can confider the Incumbrances that lay, and
yet do lie, upon this Revenue, and can conceive how intricate and perplext, Accounts of fo many Years
ſtanding muſt needs be, and how difficult a Thing it is, to fettle great Defigns of Charity, in fuch a Me-
thod, at firft, as fhall not quickly call for Repentance and AlterationWhoever can put theſe things to-
gether, will eafily account for the Time that has already been ſpent, and for the little Effect this gracious Be-
nefaction of the Queen may feem as yet to have taken. Affure your felves, my Brethren, that where ſo many
different Rules, and Methods, are, and muſt have been offered, and ſo many particular things of weight to
be confidered, before a Settlement can poffibly be made to any purpoſe, the more Time it takes in doing,
the better it will certainly be done, when done. Delays, in this cafe, are not dangerous, but tend to more
fecurity. But, methinks, I need not make an Excufe, for the little that has been done; the Diſcharge of
as many Livings from paying Tenths, as amounts to more than 3000l. per Annum, is the having already
given (at twenty Years Purchaſe) upwards of Sixty thousand Pounds to the Poor Clergy. God, of his Good-
nefs, return it, into her Royal Bofom, Sixty thoufand fold! This I have obferved to you, a little (as it were)
out of my Way. The thing I at firſt intended was, to adviſe you to be punctual in your Annual Payments
of Tenths, becaufe this great and good Deſign will depend very much upon the ready Payment of our Dues at
the appointed Time. And alſo becauſe I intend, neither my Self, nor my Executors, fhall fun any hazard,
by your Delays, or Nonfolvency. Whoever fhall not punctually diſcharge his Tenths, fhall very punctually
be returned Nonfolvent to the Exchequer, and take his Fortune there. I have known fuch ill Effects of Pity,
wrong placed, on theſe Occafions, that I will not venture them. And I hope this warning will fuffice to
prevent all fuch Miſcarriage.
There is another thing, which I am going to defire of you, in which, I will own, my Curiofity has a
great fhare; but which, I hope, may, fome Time or other, tend alfo to the Benefit of fome Pariſhes. I
defire to know the true Names of your Pariſhes, and if there be more Names than One. The Saints tɔ whoſe
Memory they were dedicated, and what Day the Wakes (if there be any) are kept. What Superftitious
Ufages are ftill obferved by the Common People, under the Name of Antient Customs. How many Families
there may be in the Parish, and what the Number of Communicants at Eafter (in theſe things, I look not
3 D d
for
$
482
AS A PH's
The Bishop of St. ASAPH's
And
for exactnefs, but according to a reaſonable way of reckoning, and general guefs.) How many Townships,
what their Names, and to whom the Tythes of them are paid, and their reputed Valuation per Annum.
if you have any remarkable Monuments in your Churches, I fhould be glad you would tranſcribe them for me,
at your leifure. Theſe things, I hope, will not put you to much pains, to write in a Sheet of Paper, and
offer them to me, at the Vifitation; as alfo whatever you fhall think fit to communicate to me, which you
would not publickly prefent or complain of; if you Seal them up, I will take care they fhall be ftill Sealed to
all befides my felf, till it be fit to make them manifeft, and, even then, it ſhall be to no one's prejudice.
I have now a few things to fay to you, in general, and ſhall then put an end to theſe Papers. And,
First, I cannot chooſe but hope that you do, every Day, either at Church, or at your Houfes, offer to
God the continual Sacrifice of Prayer and Thanksgiving, as well for the long Life, and Health, and Prefer-
vation, and Profperity of the Queen, as alfo for the manifold good Gifts, Virtues, and Graces, that we fee
Her exerciſe continually, and daily improving in. This we ſhould, all of us, do, did Confcience of our
Duty only move us; but Her Deſervings towards Us, are fuch, that Gratitude and Senfe of Justice will con-
ſtrain us to add all Zeal and Fervour poffible to our Devotions. God has, indeed, made Her a Nurfing-
Mother to the whole Nation, and given Her the Hearts of all Her People, in a fuller meafure, than He has
to any Prince, within our Memory: But yet her Birth, her Education, her Reaſon, Inclination, and true
Intereſt, muſt needs have filled her Heart with all the favourable Prepoffeffions to the Church of England
(above all) that even that Church could want, or wish for. And therefore, fure the Clergy of that Church
will evermore be trying to diftinguiſh it felf by Acts of Love, and Duty, and Obedience to her, if it be
poffible, above all other Subjects. Not in exalting Her Prerogative above what our Conftitution allows; nor
in afferting a Power, to which the Laws of the Land are Strangers, and know nothing of, (for that, my
Brethren, is as well a Snare to Princes, as an Entanglement to Subjects) but in preffing, upon all Men, a
dutiful and conſcientious Obedience to Her Laws; by which the Honour and the Safety of Her Perſon and
Government are beft preſerved. It is not for Princes to fide with any Party, but to make ufe of all. They
are the Common Parents of their Country, and will difpence their Juftice with an equal Hand to all; but
they who beft deſerve, will ſhare their Graces and their Favours in the greateſt Plenty: And that, I hope,
will ever be the Church of England, properly fo called.
You do, in the next place, pray as conftantly, in courfe, for the Princeſs Sophia, and you know the
meaning of that is, for the Succeffion of the Proteftant Line, in the Illuftrious Houfe of Hanover. There
our Laws have placed the Crown, and there our Prayers and our Endeavours, will, I hope, for ever keep
it. We have had but two Popish Reigns, fince the Bleſſed Reformation of Religion; and both of them were,
God be thanked, of very fhort continuance: But what Alarms, what Disturbance and Diftraction did they
give, what mighty Miſchiefs did they do this Kingdom! The first of them did cheaply pour, like Water on
the Ground, the Blood of a World of innocent and harmleſs People, for no other Cauſe, but that they could
not againſt their Conſcience, comply with Popery. The Laws of the Land were then upon the fide of that
Cruel falfe Religion, and authorized the kindling thoſe devouring Fires, that confumed fo many Proteftants.
Infomuch that if God, in his Mercy, had not fhortned thoſe Days, the Name of the Reformation had been
no more in Remembrance. For it is in the Nature, it is interwoven in the frame and make of that furious
Superftition, never to fpare what it calls Herefy, when it has the Power of deſtroying it: And I challenge
all the World, to give an unexceptionable Inſtance to the contrary. Shall we ever run this Riſk again?
Will you not, all of you, fay with me, God forbid that we should ever try again the Mercy of a Popish Go-
vernment! I ſay the lefs of the other Popish Reign, becauſe I truſt to the Remembrance, and the Senfes, of all
Reaſonable obſerving People. And I fhould defpair of being much heeded, ſhould I give any Caution for
the future, by thoſe who have fo foon forgotten the paſt Fears and Dangers, they were in. But though we
fhould incline to ſpare the Name of a Prince, to whom we once both owed and payed the Obedience of
good Subjects, and who, moreover, was the Father of two fuch Queens, yet let us never fo forget thoſe Days,
as not to thank God heartily, that they paffed away fo foon; and, that the Legiſlative Power hath done
what it could to prevent the like, for the Time to come, by enacting (as by the 14th of Elizabeth, it ap-
pears they might) that no Papift ſhall hereafter be King or Queen of England; and fettling the Succeffion in
the Proteftant Line. God grant it may be very long, before that Act of Parliament take place, but God for-
bid that any thing ſhould ever interrupt the Proteftant Succeffion. This is the Royal Family, that we are under-
ſtood to pray for.
You do, in the laſt place, pray for Biſhops, and Curates, and all Congregations committed to their Charge:
And as I always try to put my own Clergy, in a more particular View, when I either repeat, or hear this
Prayer; ſo I do ſeriouſly defire, that they would always have Me in their Minds, on the like Occafions.
And fince the Providence of God hath placed Me, through the Favour of the Queen, in the higheſt Order
of Church-Minifters, I am fure I have thought my felf the better, for being, in a more immediate manner,
the Subject of fo many good Peoples Prayers, as are daily offered up to God, in our Excellent Publick Service.
We do, indeed, ftand in need of all our Peoples Prayers, and all the Affiftance of the Grace of God, and all
that our Reaſon, Obfervation, and Experience can afford, to direct us in our Ways; for we are, methinks,
encompaffed with unuſual, unexpected Difficulties * Whence comes it that the Times feem fo much more
unequal to fome Men of this Sacred Order, than they are to Others? From what infected Quarter does this
Miſchief rife? Are they not full as Learned, Virtuous, and Religious, as their Brethren, or their Prede-
ceffors? Shew they not equal Zeal for the Glory of God, the Honour of Chrift's Revelation, and for the
Souls of Men, the Purchaſe of his Blood? Walk they not prudently and circumfpectly, fhewing themſelves
Patterns in all good things? What part of Duty is it, that they are defective in? Is Malice ſo reſtrained, as
not to tell them of their Faults? Or are their Enemies ſo tender of their Credit and good Name? And yet
if you ſhould trace theſe Clamours to a Head, you will find they end in this poor, fenfeleſs Accufation, that
they are not good Churchmen. Great God! That Men of the moſt valuable Abilities, and learned in all
kinds; beloved of all that know them, for their Candor and good Nature; famed for their Prudence, and
venerable for their Piety and Goodneſs; of exemplary Charity; affiduous Preachers; conftant Frequenters
of the Common-Prayers; and, in a word, who whilſt they were Pariſh Priests, did every way adorn their
holy CallingThat theſe Men, when they came to be advanced, fhould ceafe immediately to be good
This was in 1709-10, and things are not much mended, fince taat, as I fuppofe.
Church-men!
CHARGE to his CLERGY.
483
Church-men! My Heart, I own it, is too full of Indignation and Difdain, to give a ferious Anfwer to fuch
Calumnies. I rather humbly befeech God, to forgive thoſe Men their great Treſpaſs, who have either in-
vented, ſpread, or cheriſhed them. But be not you, my Brethren, Partakers of their Sin, by harbouring
ſuch ill Thoughts; or countenancing fuch Reports. Speak not evil of theſe Dignities. I know I am the un-
worthieſt of them; but yet I bind it on your Confciences, to entertain a good Opinion of me, till you find
cauſe to do otherwife. I fhall not elfe be able to do any good among you. I fpeak not this, from any Rea-
fon or Suſpicion I have that I am not as much eſteemed by all of you, as I defire to be. But what can I ex-
pect? What have I not to fear, when Men of fo much greater Caution, Prudence, Virtue, and Religion,
fare fo ill? Had Papifts been the Spreaders of thefe Slanders, I fhould not much have wondered, becauſe
they are fuch hearty Lovers of whatever may difcredit us, or weaken our Influence with our People, that,
I account, we are obliged to them, if they only report, and are not the Authors of them. But theſe are not
the Wounds of Enemies, but of Companions, Friends, and Children. But after all, what is the ground and
occafion of this Outcry? If I can guefs aright, it is this. The Bishops, for thefe twenty Years laft paft,
have behaved themfelves with that good Temper, Moderation, and Paternal Gentlenefs, that they have
gained more ground upon the Hearts of the Diffenters, than had been done for an hundred Years before, by
all their Predeceffors: And yet, they have not parted, (that I know of) with one Point of Doctrine; one
Point of Diſcipline; one Church or Chapel; one Line of the Common-Prayer; nor one external Ceremony.
But it may be they would if they could. It is Time enough to anſwer thofe Sufpicions, when better Proof
of their Inclination appears. I have as much Reaſon to ſay, and I do ſay it, that whenever they do part
with any thing, belonging to the Church, my Life for yours, they will have ſomething equal to it, in Ex-
change. They have, as yet, parted with nothing; made no Advances, no Propofals, no Conceffions.
They have only purchaſed the Reconciliation, and Benevolence of thofe People who diffent from our Church,
by a Management that is truly Wife, and truly Chriftian. And I am verily perfwaded, that the best and
wifeft of their Predeceffors would have taken the fame Courfes, had the Situation of Affairs been the fame, and
the like Seaſons and Opportunities concurred.
+
But how does it appear, that the Diffenters have been gained upon, by this good Treatment? Allow them
to be Men, and you will fee fomething of what I fay; for all Men love Humanity, and all Mens Hearts are
won upon by gentle Treatment. But does it not appear by plainer Tokens? Have they not (many of them)
manifeftly changed their Stile, and way of Expreffion? Have they not changed their Manners and Behavi-
our towards Church, and Churchmen? Do their Writings feem to proceed from fuch a furious bitter Spirit
as they uſed to do? Do they infift upon fuch rigorous Terms of Church-Communion as they formerly did?
Do they treat our Service, or our Ceremonies, with the antient Scorn and Contempt? Have they not spoken
decently, and refpectfully of Bishops? I may not infift on all Particulars-I affirm, that fince the Days of
Queen Elizabeth, the Bifhops of the Church of England, were never held in that Efteem and Value by the
Diffenters, as they now are, and have been for theſe twenty Years; and that for doing nothing but what did
always become Wife Men, and good Chriftians to do, fo circumftantiated as they are. And is it not afto-
niſhing, that that which is, in truth, matter of Praife and Honour, fhould be turned into an Accufation?
For (to come to the Point I am upon) I have never feen a better Caufe affigned, why fome Bishops fhould
not be thought good Churchmen, than that they have treated the Diffenters with more Condeſcenſion and leſs
Acrimony, and have been treated by Them, with more Civility, Refpect, and Honour, than was heretofore
the Cuſtom to do, on either fide. And I leave it to all the World to judge, whether the Biſhops are to
change their Conduct, or thoſe who blame them, their Opinion. I meant not, by what I have faid, to
make an Apology for any of my Brethren, and Moſt honoured Collegues, Dead or Living; their good Example
wants not to be justified, but followed by Me. And herein I ſhould but do, as they have done, viz. purſue
the Advice given to the Clergy of his Province, by Archbiſhop Sandcroft in 1688.
"that they have a very tender Regard, to our* Brethren the Proteftant Diffenters: That, upon Occafion
"More eſpecially,
"offered, They vifit them at their Houſes, and receive them kindly at their own; and treat then fairly
"where-ever they meet Them: Perfuading Them, if it may be, to a full Compliance with our Church,
❝or at the leaft, that whereunto we have already attained, we may all walk by the fame Rule, and mind the
fame Thing-And that They warmly and moſt affectionately exhort Them to join with us in daily
"fervent Prayer to the God of Peace, for an Univerfal Bleffed Union of all Reformed Churches, both at
"Home and Abroad, against our Common Enemies."
66
But I have faid theſe things, to fhew upon what poor Occafions, many People, who love the Order, have
yet parted with their Refpect for the Perfons of their Biſhops: And to caution you (for whom I am moſt con-
cerned) againſt the falling in, with any fuch unreaſonable Sufpicions. Take heed of every thing that may leffen
the Refpect you owe to your Superiors; for when that Bond is broken, who can tell but Hatred or Contempt
will follow? And then you know how little good can poffibly be done, by any one. You may make it
your own Cafe, with Refpect to your private Parishes, and think how ineffectual all your beft Labours
would be, if your People were either prejudiced against your Perfon, or fufpected you of any ill Defigns.
I fee I have exceeded the Bounds I had fet my felf; but my Zeal for fo much injured Worth, hath occa-
fioned it, and muft excufe the Length. I neither am, nor have at any time been concerned, my felf, in
any
of thoſe Affairs, or Controverfies, that have occaſioned the Divifions, and Diftinctions, that have ſo long
troubled Us. But I have not been an Unconcerned Spectator of the Miſchiefs they have done; nor can I
help the apprehending, with pain, the Miſchiefs that they will go on doing to the End. And in that View,
I could not refrain from warning every one of you, from having any Hand in cheriſhing and keeping theſe
Divifions up, amongst us.
God of his infinite Goodness, grant, that you and I, and every one of us, may every Day we live, remember
the Relation we bear to each other, and to the Flocks committed to our Care, and fo attend to the Discharge of
our good Office, that when the Shepherd and the Bishop of our Souls fhall call us to account, each for the Other, we
may do it with Joy, and not with Grief.
I am your moſt affectionate Brother,
Weftminster, Febr. 16.
1709-10.
and humble Servant,
W. ASAPH.
* From this Paffage the ordinary Reader will, I believe, conclude that Archbishop Sandcroft thought, both the Dif
fenters at home, and the Proteftants abroad, to be Chriftians at leaft.
3
THE
484
The Thirteenth Chapter to the ROMANS,
Vindicated from the Abuſive Senfes put upon it.
Written by a Curate of SALOP; and directed to the Clergy of that
County, and the Neighbouring Ones of North-Wales; To whom
the Author wifheth Patience, Moderation, and a Good Under-
ftanding, for Half an Hour.
M®
Y Buſineſs having drawn me up to London in the Winter, I had the Oppor→
tunity of Hearing the Trial of the famous Doctor, from the Beginning to
the End: and was thereby informed of abundance of Things, of which
I was before ignorant; and enabled, as I thought, to fet you right alfo,
and to correct a great many Miſtakes, into which I found We had all of us been led.
When I firſt came to Town, it was between the Preaching of his Sermon, and his be-
ing Impeached for it: and I believe, I may fafely affirm, there were not Ten Men of
Senfe and Character, in all the City, but did abfolutely condemn that Diſcourſe, as a
Rhapfody of incoherent ill-digeſted Thoughts, dreffed in the worſt Language that could
be found. They faid it became not a Minister of the Gofpel, for the Spirit with which
it was compofed; nor a Doctor, for the Argumentative Part of it; nor a tolerable En-
glishman, for the Style and Expreffion. In a word; neither the Matter, nor the Man-
ner of the Sermon pleaſed any one. This, I am fure, was then the Untainted Judg-
ment of the Town. The Man was thoroughly deſpiſed, both by his Friends, and Ene-
mies, for this Performance. Upon the Impeachment indeed Matters were much chang-
ed, and the Sermon mended ſtrangely. The High-Church Party took the Sermon, and
the Preacher, into their Protection, and made his Cauſe their own; not changing their
Opinion, nor valuing either at the Price of a Pin, but making it a Handle and Occa-
fion of bringing their loft and abandoned Cauſe into Countenance again, and of playing
their Game anew with more Advantage. They gained at firſt on the devout and ho
nourable Women, who whiſpered back to them, That if they had the Courage to re-
fume the Poſts they had been lately driven from, there never was an Opportunity more
favourable than now: I may not tell you abundance of Things that I then heard from
good Hands: We quickly faw how the Cauſe thrived in its Management, and what
Arts were uſed to make weak People believe, the Church was endangered in that Trial,
and Tried together with her Champion: This was then the Talk of credulous Women,
ſhallow Men, and of young Preachers, and of many of my Countrymen and Fellow
Curates; from whom, I doubt not, our Neighbour * ftole the Thought, and put
into his elegant Addrefs. Whereas to Me, the Church appeared to be no more con-
cerned in This Difpute, than the Mountain, at whoſe bottom my Houſe ſtands. The
Diſpute, I plainly faw, was who ſhould have the good Places, the profitable Poſts,
and Offices of Honour. The Peace was then in View, and both Sides began to beftir
themſelves; the One to keep the Seats they were already in, the Other to remove them,
and place their Betters in; imagining, that as Things fettled at the Peace, there they
would fix and continue. But let them fettle where they will, the Church, I dare en-
gage, will be no whit the better, unleſs we will account that half a ſcore Seditious,
Bold Incendiaries, are the Church. Theſe indeed will be Gainers, as you will ſhortly fee;
and that will be all the Advantage the Church will get by this warm Controverſy.
it
* Sir J. Ra-(1,
on.
There
Vindicated from the Abuſive Senſes put upon it.
485
any
There is nothing ſo conceited as a Man that has lately been at London, and let into
fome Secret Hiftory, and kept Company for an Hour or two, with fome Great Folks above
his Quality. This, I own, was my Condition, and I believed that as foon as I ſhould get
down into the Country, I ſhould carry all before me, and quickly convince you, that
you had wrong Notions of Things, underſtood very little of the Springs of publick Af-
fairs, and were carried away into a Thouſand Errors. That you are ftill as blind as
Beetles, I am very fure; but that you are capable of being convinced, and fet right in
of theſe Matters, is what I now doubt very much; fince I have ſeen you ſo una-
nimous in affirming the Doctor to be a Man of Parts, and great Defender of the
Church, and that the Church's Intereſt and His were infeparable; and that all who
were against Him, were Enemies to the Church, with a great many fuch like fooliſh
and abfurd Propofitions. When I ſaw this, I eafily forgave your counting Six to be
more than Seven, and Fifty-two to be as many again as Sixty-nine: Theſe I thought
might better be maintained, (by oppofing Weight to Number) than the other, which
betrays fuch a Defect of Judgment, as is not to be rectified or remedied. But that
which gave me moft trouble, in all our Bickerings, was, methoughts, that obftinate,
vexatious Citation of The 13th Chapter to the Romans, which was thrown at my Head
upon all Occafions. I could not mention the Revolution, K. William, the H. of C—;
Liberties of the Subject, nor any thing like them, but preſently I was defired to look
into the 13th Chap. to the Romans. I no fooner urged that Sir S. H. and all the Doc-
tor's Council had defended the Revolution and the Refiftance that brought it about, as
ſtrenuouſly and openly, and in as plain Terms, as the Managers themſelves had done;
and that the preſent Archbiſhop of Y. had given up all that they contended for, in
making the Laws of the Land the Meaſure of the Subjects Submiſſion and Obedience; as
good K. Charles the I. had owned the Law to be the Meaſure of his Power, in His De-
claration from New-Market, March 9. 1641. I had, I fay, no fooner urged theſe
things, and others to the like Purpoſe, but that a Bible was brought, which opened of.
it ſelf at the 13th Chapter to the Romans, and I was bid to ſee what I could make of it.
This, as I was a Curate, gave me more Concern than all you faid befides, and fo I
refolved to ſee and read that Chapter through and through, and give you my Thoughts
of it; which I now ſend you in Print, for the Edification of my Country, and good
Neighbours. It coft me the more Pains, becauſe I was to ſpin it (as it were) out of
my own Brains, not being allowed, as it ſhould ſeem, to confult any Commentators, ei-
ther of the Popish or Proteftant Party abroad; fince I was every Day told, that the
Doctrine of Paffive Obedience and Non-Refiftance, was a Doctrine Peculiar to the
Church of England. Now although a Doctrine ſeldom recommends it ſelf to me by
its Peculiarity; yet I thought it would be to no Purpoſe to cite either Proteftant or Pa-
piſt, who would not be believed or truſted in the Matter. And yet, I tell you, it is
no little Prejudice to a Doctrine of fuch Importance, to have both Proteftant and Popiſh
Writers favour it fo little as they do :: Nor is it a little abfurd, to fay a Doctrine is Pe-
culiar to a Church, when it pretends to come from Chrift, to be taught by the Apo-
ftles, and by all the Primitive Writers. I defire after the Example of other Great Au-
thors, that I may firft fuppofe fome few things, as Poftulata, and then make Arguments
and Inferences from them, in the manner following.
}
I. I ſuppoſe that the Epistle to the Romans (of which the 13th Chapter is fo notable
a part) though immediately directed to the Chriſtians of that Empire, was yet intended
by St. Paul, for the Ufe, Inſtruction and Direction of all the Chriftians in the World
befides.
II. I ſuppoſe that, at what time the 13th Chap, to the Romans might be written, there
were as many different Governments in the World, as there are at this Day. I will
name but Four. Ift, An Abfolute Monarchy, fuch as the Roman Empire then was,
3 E e
and
486
The Thirteenth Chapter to the ROMANS,
and the Turkiſh one now is. Where the Will of the Prince was the Law. 2dly, A
limited and mixed Monarchy, as that of the Quadi was of old, and England is now
thought to be. Where the Prince governed by a Body of known Laws, made by him-
ſelf together with a Chamber of Nobles, and a Chamber of Sage and Subftantial Perſons,
chofe out of the Commonalty, to repreſent them. He could make no new Law by him-
felf, nor could he abrogate an old one; nor could he fo explain a doubtful controverted
Paffage of a Law, as to make it pafs for Law, by his fingle Authority. He had the
Power of appointing all fuch as ſhould execute the Laws. He had alſo the Power of
the Sword; he could make War and Peace, but he could not of himſelf, raife any
Money, either to pay the Civil Lift, or to pay the Soldiers; nor could he appoint his
Succeffor. In a word, it was juſt fuch another Government, as that of England is, un-
der a King, a House of Lords, and Commons. And if any of you doubt whether the
Quadi were really and in truth thus governed at that time, I will not refer you to the
Writers of thoſe times for my Juftification, but defire only to fuppofe there might be
fuch a Government; which is not unreaſonable, becauſe you know there actually is
ſuch a one, namely, our own of Great Britain. 3dly, An Aristocratical Govern-
ment, like that of Venice, where the Senators truly govern all, but with a Duke at
their Head, of little Real, but of much Ceremonial Significancy. 4thly, A Common-
wealth like that of the Seven Provinces with a Stadtholder for their Captain General.
Theſe Four Sorts of Government I take leave to fuppofe there were, or at leaſt might
have been, when the 13th Chapter to the Romans was written.
III. I fuppofe the 13th Chapter to the Romans, made no immediate Change of all,
or any of theſe Four Governments; but left them as they found them. Each of them
continued, or might have continued, as it ſtood before that Chapter was written ; nei-
ther of them became more or lefs lawful, innocent, or convenient, than they were before
St. Paul appeared: It gave the Governing Part of each, no more Power than it had be-
fore; nor did it put the Governed Party into any worfe Eftate and Condition.
IV. As the 13th Chapter to the Romans unfettled no Government that was then ſet-
tled; nor made any manner of Change that we know of: So neither did it fettle ọr fix
any Government in fuch a manner, as to make it unlawful for the Legislative Power
(fhould it fee fit) to change or alter it. An Abfolute Monarch might, if he had pleaſed,
have condefcended to govern by known Laws, and might have obliged himſelf to go-
vern by no other Laws; and might have diſcharged the People from obeying him,
whenever he ſhould go about to overthrow thofe known Laws: And of this he might
appoint twelve or more Great Officers to be the Judges, who fhould determine, whe-
ther fuch and fuch Commands, if executed, would overthrow thofe known Laws; and
confequently whether the People were obliged to execute thoſe Orders and Commands.
One may ſuppoſe the 13th Chapter to the Romans would not hinder this Arbitrary
Prince, from making theſe Condefcenfions, nor from obliging himſelf to ſtand to them
when made. Neither would the 13th Chapter to the Romans forbid or hinder a Limited
Monarchy from becoming an Abfolute one, fhould all that are concerned freely confent
to make it fo. In a word, it is but reaſonable to think, that every Eftate and Govern-
ment knows its own Defects the beſt, and beſt knows how to fupply and remedy thoſe
Defects, by changing the Place of Power, and putting it into proper Hands, in what De-
gree or Meaſure it thinks fit, and moft conducive to its own Advantage: For all Go-
vernments have the fame Authority; but differ in the Exercife and Adminiftration of it.
V. The 13th Chapter to the Romans is therefore a much quieter Chapter than moſt
People imagine. It changed no Government: It fettled none unalterably; It made no
Freeman Slaves; It made no Slaves Freemen. It left every Nation to be governed by
its own Laws; and if they could mend thofe Laws, they might: And if they ſhould
Fart with them for worse, it did not forbid them doing ſo. It bids every Soul be fubject
I
to
Vindicated from the Abufive Senfes put upon it.
487
1
to the higher Powers but it does not tell us, who thofe Higher Powers are : It fends
us to the Laws of the Conſtitution, to learn where they are placed. The Higher Powers
at Rome were not, at that time, the Emperor, the Senate, and the People, conjunctly,
but the Emperor alone. The Higher Powers among the Quadi were the Prince, The
Upper and Lower Chambers; in the Legislature, the Power of raifing Taxes, and ap-
pointing the Succeffion; but the Prince alone in Fighting and executing Laws. The
Higher Powers in the Aristocracy, and in the Commonwealth, were much as they now
are in Venice, and the Seven Provinces. This we learn, not from the 13th Chapter to
the Romans, but from the Hiftories of their ſeveral Conſtitutions. The 13th Chapter to
the Romans tells us, that the Powers that be, are ordained of God; therefore it tells us,
that Arbitrary Monarchy, that Limited Monarchy, that Aristocracy, and a Common-
wealth are ordained of God; that they are, each of them, alike the Ordinance of God.
And the fame Chapter fays, that they who refift the Ordinance of God, fhall receive to
themfelves Damnation-Therefore it fays, that whofoever refifteth in an Arbitrary,
or a Limited Monarchy, in an Ariftocracy or in a Commonwealth, fhall receive to himſelf
Damnation, i. e. It fays in fhort, that a Man may be a Rebel in or againſt any Sort,
or Species of Government; and that a Rebel, without Repentance, ſhall be damned.
But does it tell us, what Rebellion is? Or what Sort of Refiftance it is, that makes a
Man a Rebel? This innocent Chapter, to my thinking, fays nothing of the Matter-
it leaves us to learn from the Laws and Conftitutions of each Government, what Obe-
dience is required at the Subjects Hand: What it is to be a Rebel; and what Reſiſtance
is adjudged Rebellion. And fince it leaves each Kingdom to be governed by its own
Laws, (as is above ſhewn) and to change thoſe Laws, as it fees convenient, it follows
manifeſtly, that ſuch, or fuch an Act of Refiftance, may be Rebellion in one Country,
and not in another; and (in the fame Country) at one time, and at another time (when
the Law is changed) it may be no Rebellion; and that which once was damnable, may
now be innocent and juftifiable. We may therefore learn from the 13th Chapter to
the Romans, that Rebellion is at all times damnable; but we cannot learn from thence,
what is Rebellion. That the Laws of the Land muſt teach us: The Chapter forbids
Refiſtance, but, truly, the Laws muſt tell us what Reſiſtance is, and in what Cafe it is
forbidden.
VI. The 13th Chapter to the Romans commands Submiffion to the Higher Powers.
The Laws of the Empire may fay, that this Submiffion (with Reſpect to the Roman
Emperor) muſt be Submiſſion without Referve: The Chapter therefore may fay, that the
Submiffion of the Roman Subjects, was Submiffion without Referve. But does the 13th
Chapter to the Romans fay the fame thing to the Subjects of the Quadian Monarchy,
with reſpect to their King? When the Laws of their Government tell them, that their
King, is not a Roman Emperor, nor has the fole Legislative Power lodged in his Hands,
nor can raiſe a Penny of Money, without both Chamber; Does this Chapter tell the
People, that they muſt ſubmit without Referve, to what Laws the Prince ſhall think fit
to make of his own Head? And must pay whatever Taxes fhall be laid upon them by
him, without Conſent of both Chambers? Does the Chapter bind thern, where the
Laws have freed them? If not, it is manifeft, the Laws of the Land are to inſtruct
us, what Submiffion is required from the Subject to the Prince, and in what Cafes it
ought not either to be asked or paid. The Higher Powers, in the Aristocracy of Venice,
are the Duke, and the Senators: The 13th Chapter to the Romans bids the Subjects of
that State ſubmit themſelves to the Duke, and Senators. But does that Chapter bid them
pay
the fame Submiffion to the feparate Orders of the Duke, as to the Decrees of the
Senators convened with him in the Great Council, if fo be that the Laws of that State
forbid the Subjects to pay Obedience to fuch ſeparate Orders of the Duke, unleſs con-
firmed by the Decrees of the Senate, in due Form? Will any Man fay, the 13th Chap.
į
to
488
The Thirteenth Chapter to the ROMANS,
•
to the Romans commands the Subjects to pay fuch Acts of Obedience, as the Laws of
that State diſcharge them from paying, and require them not to pay? The Duke is to
be obeyed, where the Laws fay he is to be obeyed, and not otherwife. And if a Man
ſhould fay, St. Paul required the contrary, they would ſtop his Mouth with St. Mark;
They would put him into a Sack, and throw him into the Adriatick Gulph.
VII. It is not therefore to be endured, that the 13th Chapter to the Romans fhould be
fo flandered, as it has of late been: Since it only requires fuch Obedience and Submif-
fion, as the Laws of every Government require at the Subjects hands, neither more nor
leſs; for if it required either more or less, it would alter and unfettle Governments; it
would change the Power of the Rulers, and the Liberties of the People; it would make
the one more or less abfolute, the other more or leſs free, and quite fubvert Eſtabliſh-
ments, and turn the whole World upfide downwards: The contrary to all which has
been ſhewn above, and in its way demonſtrated.
VIII. I do not therefore intreat you, Not to be Slaves to your ſelves; nor intreat you
hot to court Oppreffion, Tyranny, and Arbitrary Power; nor intreat you, not to abuſe
your Fellow Subjects for maintaining the Liberties and Privileges which the Laws of
their Country have allowed them, I do not now ſo much intreat you in theſe Matters,
as I intreat you, not to abuſe the Word of God; not to traduce St. Paul; not to ſpeak
evil of the Chriftian Doctrine; as though theſe did not only barely favour, but en-
courage, and command, the Slavery of the Subject, and the Prince's Arbitrary Power,
if he ſhould pleaſe to affume it. Let the Scriptures alone, and make not them fubfervient
to the bafe and villanous Defigns of wicked Men that would enthrall their Country.
If they in whofe hands the Legislative Power is lodged, fhall now, or hereafter, give
up the Liberties and Privileges we now enjoy as Engliſhmen, it will be time enough
then to fubmit to our accurfed Fortune. That is a Power, we know not how to dif
allow, or disobey. There, we ſhall fee and feel the Weight of St. Paul's Authority,
preffing Submiffion to the Lawful Powers, and calling for Obedience to the Rulers, that
are fet over us. Refiftance in that Cafe, fhall be accounted damnable. Let the Laws of
our Country firſt bind our Hands, and then St. Paul will bind thoſe Laws upon our
"Confciences. But do not wrong that Saint, by ſaying that he hath made us Slaves, be-
fore the Laws of our Country have made us fo. In this, I intreat you to ſpare the 13th
Chapter to the Romans.
•
1
IX. But, it may be, you will fay, the 13th Chapter to the Romans, preffes Submif
Tion on the Chriftians, to a Prince that was the very Worft of Men, a Monſter of all
Tyranny and Cruelty. And therefore that it is not now perverted or abuſed, when
brought to enforce Submiffion to the like Commands of other Princes. To this I an-
fwer, that it is not to be proved, with any certainty, in whoſe Reign, or at what time,
the Epistle to the Romans was written. But let the Paffive Doctors take it for granted,
that it was written when Nerò reigned; and (if they like it the better for that) juft
when caufed the City of Rome to be fet on Fire, and ftrung his Harp on that Occa-
fion: Or when he gave his Orders out to have his Mother killed; or in what Fit of
Enormous Wickedness they pleaſe to place Him. What, I would know, is all this,
to the Other Parts of the World, who were governed by Milder Princes, and lived un-
der Laws both Juft and Merciful? Where it was not allowed to the Prince to Govern
by his own Will and Pleaſure, but by known and fettled Rules of Wiſdom and Equity?
Were the Subjects of thefe Other States and Kingdoms obliged, immediately upon the
Writing this Epistle to the Romans, to conform themſelves to the Example of the Sub-
jects of the Empire, and pay their Princes the fame Obedience and Submiffion, that
were paid to Nero? If not, what fignifies it who was then Emperor; or whether He
were good or bad? And would it not be a fort of Blafphemy againſt the Chriſtian Doc-
trine, to fay, the Subjects of other States and Kingdoms were Free by the Laws of their
Country,
3
Vindicated from the Abufive Senfes put upon it.
489
Country, but, by their Converfion to Chriſtianity, became immediately Slaves to the
Will and Pleaſure of their feveral Princes, in the fame Meaſure and Degree, that the
People of Rome were Slaves to Nero? When I intend to Renounce Chriſtianity, I
may ſay this thing of it, but not before. But if theſe States and Kingdoms were not
obliged (by their becoming Chriſtian, and receiving the Epistle to the Romans for the
Word of God) to conform their feveral Governments to that of Rome, to become them-
ſelves Slaves, and to make their Princes abfolute as Nero was; Why then is the 13th
Chapter to the Romans urged to make thofe People Slaves, after the Example of the
Romans, whofe Government was never like the Roman Government? Why may we
not as well hold fast our Legal Liberties, after the Example of thoſe Other Kingdoms,
who continued to be Free, notwithſtanding their becoming Chriftians, and receiving
the Epistle to the Romans for the Inſpired Word of God? How fhould it enter into any
ferious Man's Belief, that, becauſe the Romans were to fubmit themſelves to Nero, who
was an Arbitrary Prince, in Inftances of great Tyranny and Cruelty; therefore the Quadi
muſt ſubmit themſelves to Cotylas their Prince, in the like Inftances of Tyranny and Cru-
elty: although by the Laws of that Kingdom, Cotylas was not an Arbitrary Prince, but
bound by his Oath, to Govern by known Laws, which expreffly faid, The People were
not to be treated in fuch a manner? Suppofe St. Paul had lived about thirty Years ago,
and had taken occafion to write to the Chriftians at Conftantinople, living under the Tur-
kiſh Emperor; and ſhould have thought fit to have ſaid, in expreſs Words, Let every Soul
be fubject to the Higher Powers; for there is no Power but of God; The Powers that be,
are ordained of God; and He that refifteth the Power, refifteth the Ordinance of God; and
they who refift, ſhall receive to themſelves Damnation, &c. Had it been reaſonable for
Clergyman to have argued from hence, that the Subjects of Great Britain, Venice, and
Holland, must have paid the fame Obedience, in all Regards, to the King, the Duke,
and Prince of Orange, which the Subjects of the Turkish Empire paid to the Grand
Seignior? There is hardly a Man living but fees the Abfurdity of fuch a Confequence;
and yet, we have Men of all Orders and Degrees amongſt us, that do every Day, with
great Gravity, make the fame Conclufion, from the Subjection of the Romans to their
Emperor; and infer, that the reſt of the World are obliged to pay the fame to their
Reſpective Princes; and grow very angry, if we yield not quickly to them. The Su-
preme Power is, indeed, in all Places, and at all Times, the fame, and must have the
fame Submiffion paid to it, that is paid to the Turkish Emperor now, and was hereto--
fore paid to the Roman One. But we muſt firſt know certainly where the Supreme
Power is lodged; and that, I am fure, we ſhall never know from the 13th Chapter to
the Romans, which mentions not a word of England, Venice, or the Seven Provinces. For
that I have faid, we muſt have Recourfe to the Laws and Conftitutions of thoſe ſeveral
Countries.
any
X. Let me then intreat you once more, not to lay fo heavy a Load upon this Chapter,
or any other Piece of Scripture. What need is there of charging God with all the
Miferies and Misfortunes that afflict Mankind, under a State of Slavery, by making
them the Effects of his Commands; which muft not be withſtood, although the Laws
ſay otherwiſe, or leave Men, at leaſt, at Liberty? Have Princes any need of being
courted to become the Tyrants and Oppreffors of their People? Is not the Exorbitance
of Power, the Prize they are ſometimes aiming at, and contending for, and the thing
that ſeems to pleaſe them more, than the true Luftre of the Crown, which they con-
ſtantly wear with Innocence and Juftice? What if it is not fo with us at preſent?
Who can anſwer for Futurity? If a good Prince be complimented with more Power
than belongs to him by the Conſtitution, who ſhall be able to with-hold it from a Bad
One? And if you tell a Good Prince, He has it from God, a Bad One will tell himſelf
as much, and become his own Flatterer. Look round the Neighbouring World, and
think what France is now, what Spain, what Germany, what Italy, what Swedeland,
and
3 F f
490
The Thirteenth Chapter to the ROMANS,
and what Denmark is; and remember they were once as Free as you are now, and
thought themſelves as little likely to put on the Chains they now groan under. The
Clergy, I must own, had but too great a fhare, in bringing on thofe bad Changes;
there was no doing fuch great Things without them; they forwarded the cruel and
ambitious Aims of Princes; the Villanous Deſigns of Wicked Counsellors, and the baſe
Treachery of their Fellow-Subjects, and helped to offer up the Liberties of their
Country, to the Will and Pleafure of their Kings. Only, the 13th Chapter to the Ro-
mans had no hand in theſe bad Bufineffes; The Explanation of that Chapter to theſe
Purpoſes, is, it ſhould ſeem, peculiar to the Church of England. Excuſe me, Brethren,
if I am ſomewhat Zealous to remove this Scandal; I ever did, and ever fhall account
it a Reproach, to have it faid, that the Churchmen here, are Enemies of Liberty, and
Favourers of Arbitrary Power: and, inconfiderable as I am, I always took the liberty
to fay, We loved our Nation as well as the Diffenters did. But yet I cannot help ex-
cepting at leaſt a Dozen that are not content to be reckoned of the Church, but call
themſelves the Church of England, who by their Principles are Slaves themſelves, and
(which is worſe) would have all others to be fo.
XI. I have now done with the 13th Chapter to the Romans, and have fhewed you,
that it requires of no People, any more Submiffion to the Higher Powers, than the Laws
of their feveral Countries require: That it exacts no other Obedience than the Laws
exact: That it forbids no other Refiftance, than the Laws of that Country forbid: And
that it Damns no Man, for making fuch Refiftance as the Laws of his Country allow
him to make, be it more or lefs. And after all this, I have the Prefumption to ſay,
that there is not a better Subject in all the Queen's Dominions, than I am : I tell my
People that She is the Lord's Anointed; that She poffeffes the Throne, as well by the
Act of Settlement, as by an Hereditary Right, as being the Daughter of King James;
the Title and the Hopes of the Pretender (be they what they will) having been extin-
guiſhed by an Act of Parliament; fo that no Body can, or ought to come between the
Crown and Her. I fhew them moreover, that to preferve the Proteftant Religion
(which would be utterly fubverted, ſhould any Papift come to Reign over us) an Act of
Parliament has quite cut off the Hereditary Right of more than Twenty feveral People,
(all of them Papifts) to fettle the Crown upon the House of Hanover, and given to them
as long as they continue Proteftants) an Hereditary Right alſo. I tell the People alſo,
that Government is the Ordinance of God, fo beneficial to the World, that, without it,
they could not live in Peace, nor have any Property, nor enjoy any good thing of this
Life; nor call either Houſe or Land, or Meat or Drink, or Cloathing, their own; but
that every thing would be taken from them, by fuch as were cunninger, or ſtronger
than they: And that they cannot love or thank God fufficiently for fuch a Bleffing, as
fecures all others to them; and this convinces them how reaſonable it is, to pay Taxes
and Aſſeſſments, to enable the Government to protect them from Violence and Injuſtice,
and Fraud at home, and from their Enemies abroad. I take this Courſe to make them
in Love with Government, which, I affure them, was ordained of God purely and only
for the People's Good; and there is not a Man in the Parish but believes it, becauſe it is
fo much for his Intereft; and it is not truer that God is in Heaven. I never drefs
up
Cafar like a Hangman, a Ravisher, and a Publick Robber, and then tell them He is
God's Vicegerent, and is not to be refifted; but I fhew them the difference betwixt an
Arbitrary Prince, and one that governs by Law, and tell them how happy the People
of England are, above what the Romans heretofore were, and moſt other of the Na-
tions of the World now are; whofe Rights and Properties are as much fecured by Law,
as the Prerogative of the Crown is: That they are fubject to no Will and Pleafure of
a fingle Perfon, but to known Laws made in part, by Reprefentatives of their own
chuſing; and that they are not to pay a Penny of Money, but what the Parliament lays
upon
Vindicated from the Abufive Senfes put upon it.
491
1
upon
them publickly. This makes them value their Conftitution, and reſolve to main-
tain it; which I alſo tell them they are as much obliged to do, as to defend the Rights
and Perſon of their Sovereign. As to the Doctrines of Paffive-Obedience and Non-Refift-
ance, I feldom meddle with them, becauſe they always fuppofe fome very hard Pro-
ceedings of the Crown, fome notorious Infringement of the Liberties of the People, or
violent Invaſion of their Right and Property; there can be no pretence for Paffive Obe-
dience, but where the Commands are Unlawful, unreaſonably Hard and Cruel, and fo
inſupportable, that they cannot be actively obeyed, and complied withal; which is an
Odious Cafe to put to the People, againſt their Prince. And fo is the Bufinefs of Non-
Refiftance; there is no fpeaking to it, without fuppofing things are come to that Ex-
tremity, that the Subject cannot have his Remedy, or Security, in Concealment, by
Flight, by Petition, nor by Courfe of Law; it neceffarily fuppofes a forcible Invaſion
on the Prince's fide, which the Subject is not (it ſeems) to refift. Theſe I ſay, are very
hard and odious Cafes, for Preachers to put againſt their Princes, though the Conclu-
fion always is in Favour of the Prince. And indeed I have feldom heard theſe Cauſes
managed in the Pulpit, with that Succefs that ſhould encourage one to do the like. The
Prince has generally loſt more Ground in the Affections of the Audience, than he has
gained on their Reafon and Understanding. Nay, where the People have gone away
convinced that they muſt not reſiſt, yet were they full of Wrath and Indignation, to
think they muſt endure, fo tamely, fuch infupportable Oppreffions, as the Preacher had
ſuppoſed, and, in his Paffive Scheme, had laid down. For thefe and other Reaſons I
feldom touch upon theſe Doctrines in the Pulpit, and really think I do my Prince more
Service by my Silence, than if I ſhould urge them in the common manner. But whenever
I am aſked my Opinion of theſe Matters, out of the Church, I never am aſhamed to tell
them what it is; it is what I have fet down at the beginning of this XIth Section. I
fay with King Charles the First, that the Law is the Meaſure of the King's Power. And
I ſay with the preſent Abp. of Y——————, that the Law is the Measure of the Subject's Sub-
miſſion. And I think I may fay of my felf, from both of them, that a Subject is not
obliged by Law to fubmit to the Command of his Prince that is directly against the Law.
And this I think will ſay it ſelf, whether I ſay it or no. But I add moreover, that in
fome Cafes where the Law leaves me at Liberty (to avoid all Scandal and Offence) I
may be obliged to obey a Command that brings not an intolerable Miſchief on me: To
difobey in light Cafes, would fhew too great a flight of Power, and a diſreſpect to the
Perſon of the Governor, which ought moſt carefully to be confidered, and avoided if it
can. In a word, I never preach upon the 13th Chapter to the Romans, but I endeavour
to make the People underſtand the Bleſſing of Government, to love their Prince, and pay
their Taxes readily: By which means I bring them to obey for Confcience Sake, much
rather than for Wrath; becauſe that Government is ordained of God for the good of
Mankind, and Princes are appointed of him, to ſecure this End, and to ſee it anſwered
by the Execution of good Laws; and for this Cauſe we pay Tribute. And thus the
People ſee they have a very good Bargain of it-The Prince fells them Security and
Protection from all Injustice at Home, and Enemies Abroad, for the Rates and Affeff-
ments which they agree (by their Reprefentatives) to pay him at fuch certain times. But
for your Axes, Halters, Fire and Sword, Death and Damnation, if they diſobey; they
know it as well as I, and pray me to ſpend my time better. And yet I take my Op-
portunity to let them know, that Diſobedience to the Laws is Damnable in the other
World, becauſe it is deftructive of the Peace and Security of Mankind in this; which is
the
very End of Government, the very Reason of God's Inftitution of it.
XII. It is high time you will think to put an end to this Commendation of my own
Way of Preaching: I think ſo too; but I did it, to let you fee that there is other uſe
(and much more ferviceable to the Crown) to be made of the 13th Chapter to the Ro-
3
mans,
492
The Thirteenth Chapter to the R OM A N S,
:————
mans, than what is commonly made of it, by mcft young Preachers, whofe Un
derſtanding is not, generally, equal to their Heat and Zeal; and who run away with
the Words and Letter of a Text, and leave the true Senfe and Meaning of it behind
them. Would it not vex a Man a little; to hear a young Divine preaching upon that
Saying of Chriſt, Render to Cæfar the things that are Cæfar's, and to God the things that
are God's To tell his People that from the Divifion of the Text, it was plain, that
whatever was not God's, muſt needs be Cafar's, for no one elſe was concerned; and
then to back it with that pretty Fancy, Divifum Imperium cum Jove Cæfar habet.
This however had done no great harm, if he had not in the Application told us, that
All Kings and Queens were the fame things with Cafar, and inveſted with the fame
Powers; and confequently that all we had in the World, belonged to them, if it were
not pre-engaged to God. By this we perceived that nothing was left to us; the Tythes
were God's, and all the reft was Cæfar's. Is this to be endured in an English Audience,
if the Ears of every Man in the Pariſh were not bored through? And I would fain learn
how much the Doctrine of thoſe greater Men differs from that of this Young Curate,
who tell us, that all Magiftrates, as well the Subordinate, as Supream, are ſo of God,
fo much his Ordinance and Inſtitution, that they are not in any Cafe, or upon any pre-
tence whatever, to be refifted, not only in the Execution of the Laws (which every one
allows) but even in the moft outragious Violation of the Laws? So that a Petty Con-
ſtable ſhall break my Houfe open, abuſe my Wife and Children, ranfack my Coffers,
take what Plate, Money, or Goods he pleaſes, provided his Staff be painted with the
Queen's Arms; only becauſe theſe Venerable Gentlemen have ftamped the Divine Autho-
rity upon all Subordinate Magiftrates. I know they will wipe their Mouths, and ſay,
they have fuppoſed no fuch Extream Cafes. I fay, we are never the more obliged to
them for their Silence; for fuch Extream Cafes will fuppofe themſelves, and will come
firſt into every Bodies Mind and Confideration. Say that all Subordinate Magiftrates are
the Ordinance of God, and the whole Pariſh will fay their Conftable is fuch a Magi-
ſtrate. Say that Magiftrates are by no means to be refifted, though doing never fuch
violent illegal Acts, and what ſhall hinder a needy Raſcal got into an Office, from at-
tempting to do them, protected for the prefent, not only with the Royal but Divine
Authority? And all theſe Doctrines, and their dreadful Conſequences are, it ſeems, to
keep the People from Rebellion! As if it were Rebellion to oppofe illegal Violences!
As if it were a damnable Sin to reſiſt a Conftable, or (if you will) a Justice of Peace,
committing Outrages against the Laws, fuch as deferve Impriſonment, Fine, or Death!
Yet theſe are the eafie, natural, and unavoidable Confequences of the Doctrine of theſe
worthy Writers, who ſeem to have little Regard to the Country wherein they live, and
little to the Laws that protect them from thoſe Inſults and Violences, which they invite
and tempt Men to commit, by making their Perfons facred; for by this new Divinity,
we are about to confecrate Four or Five Thouſand of the Queen's Officers at Home, and
all the Regiments in Engliſh Pay abroad. Let theſe Learned Men look to it, for there
is not one of the Foot-guards, but, if fent by his Officer (whofe Commiffion runs ftill
higher and higher) is a Subordinate Magiftrate, and is upon that Account irreſiſtible.
You may be fure I ſay theſe things with great Scorn; but yet theſe filly wicked Confe-
quences are not to be avoided, if you will take theſe Doctors Word for the Premiſes.
How freely do they part with Peoples Eſtates and Liberties! How cheap do they make
Damnation! To be damned, will, in a little time, come to fignify no more than to be
excommunicated in a Spiritual Court, for not appearing upon Summons, or for not pay-
ing Coſts of Three or Four Shillings! Surely, my Brethren will awake fome time or
other from theſe Dreams; although I know my Voice is much too low to reach them.
But Courage, Countrymen! For whilft I was writing, under great Agony of Mind,
the laſt Period, I received in the Gazette, the Address of the Clergy of London and
Weſtminſter, with their Biſhop at their Head: Who tell the Queen, "They acknow-
ledge
3
Vindicated from the Abufive Senfes put upon it.
493
ledge the moſt illuftrious Houfe of Hanover, as the next Heirs in the Proteftant,
"Line, to have the only Right of afcending the Throne, and indifputable Title to our
Allegiance. We thank God (continue they) from the bottom of our Hearts, for the
"Legal Provifions in this Regard made to fecure us from Popery and Arbitrary Power;
"which we once, through the Divine Affiftance, vigorously and fuccefsfully withſtood,
"when they were breaking in upon our Conftitution: Nor fhall we fail to manifeft an
equal Zeal againſt them, whenever, and by what Means foever, they fhall meditate
"a Return." From whence I do with great Satisfaction obferve, 1. That the Bishop
and the Clergy of London and Weſtminſter do openly acknowledge, to the Queen's
Face, that an Act of Parliament can transfer the Hereditary Right of Succeffion from
one Perſon to another, and from one Houfe to another, and that fuch a Title is indif
putable. The Proof of this, is, that the House of Savoy, and other Houſes, are ſet aſide,
in favour of the House of Hanover. This I am fure, the Clergy of London were far
enough from venturing to fay, when the Bill of Exclufion was on foot; then the Right
of Succeffion was De Jure Divino, indefeafible, unalienable, unalterable, and I know
not what. They did not pretend it to be barely unreasonable, and hard, and inconve-
nient, but abfolutely unlawful to exclude the Duke of York. They altered their Mind,
belike, when he was King James. 2dly, They thank God heartily, for the Legal Pro-
viſions made to fecure the People from Popery and Arbitrary Power. And ſo do I, to
fee this Declaration come from them, becauſe it will help to acquit them of the Scan-
dal of being Friends to Arbitrary Power; and becauſe I hope they mean what they
fay. Now I would fain know how any Men can thank God, that the Laws are on their
Side, in this or that Regard, who acknowledge at the fame time, that if thoſe Laws
ſhould be invaded, violated, and quite fubverted, even to the utter Mifery and total Ruin
of the People, they have no manner of Right to defend them, by any forcible Oppofition
whatſoever, although the Perfon that thus fubverts thofe Laws, has no fuch Power com-
mitted to him? What Security to a Subject is a Law againſt Arbitrary Power, when it
is forbidden the Subject (by a Superior Law) to put that Law in Execution againſt that
Arbitrary Power? What are Privileges worth, what are Liberties good for, that can-
not be maintained and fecured, by fuch means as are only proper, only able to ſecure.
them and maintain them? How would it read, fhould fuch a Speech have been left as
this, fpoken to the King of the Quadi, by the High-Priest of Mars, at the Head of his
Sodality?" We thank the Immortal Gods, moft Noble Prince, that we have Laws
"and Statutes to fecure us againſt Arbitrary Power, that bind you, by the Share you
"had in making them, and by the Oath you took to govern by them, neither to hurt
our Perfons, nor deprive us of our Liberty, nor take our Money from us, but in fuch
a manner and proportion as is ſettled by our Conftitution; theſe Laws and Liberties,
the World around, admire and envy to us. But yet we are obliged to tell
jects, (as we often tell your Majeſty) that whenever you pleaſe to break through theſe
Reſtraints, to invade theſe Liberties, and to fubvert thefe Laws, their Hands are
tied, they have no other Remedy, but to implore your Mercy and Forbearance, and
"beſeech the Heavenly Powers to divert your Purpoſe, and infpire you with a better
"Mind. We tell your Majesty, you have no Moral Power, nor yet Political, to
« do theſe cruel and deſtructive Things; but if you will go on, the Gods may call you
"to an Account hereafter: But as for us, and all your People, we are devoted to eter-
«nal Snakes and Furies, if we lift up a Hand against you; for you are irreſiſtible, not
only in your Sacred Perfon, but in all your Minifters that act fubordinately under you."
<c
<c
CC
<s
cr
cc
your Sub-
I ftay not to conjecture what Remarks fo grave a Man as Tacitus would make on ſuch
a Speech. I only fay, That if the Prince abſtain from Violence, after this, he is a
very good Prince, and will deferve all Thanks and Praiſe imaginable; but what Claim
or Title to fuch folemn Thanks, the Immortal Gods fhould have, paffes my Reach and
3 G g
Underſtanding;
494
The Thirteenth Chapter to the ROMANS,
+
Underſtanding; becauſe (as I fhould think) thofe Gods were the very People (if you will
pardon that bold Figure) that hindred theſe good Laws from being any Security to the
Subject, by impofing an after-Law, that tied his Hands from maintaining them. And
if the London Addreffers, when they come to explain themſelves, fhould mean thus, I
fay, they cannot compliment their Prince too highly, for the Prefervation of thefe Laws
from Violence; but I ſhall be to feek, for what it is, they thank God fo from the bottom
of their Hearts. For a Hundred Laws are not worth a Chip, if he, against wkom
thoſe Laws are expreffly defigned, has it in his Power to fubvert and confound them
when he will; becauſe thoſe Perfons, for whofe Safety thofe Laws were expreffly de-
figned, are reſtrained from oppofing him with any forcible Refiſtance whatſoever. Had
this Doctrine been true, and believed, how little had all the Laws againſt Popery
fignified in the Reign of King James, had the Subordinate Powers at Hounflow-Heath
ſtood by their Mafter, and joined with him in the Executive Part? 3dly, I am glad to
obferve, that the Biſhop and Clergy take occafion to reprefent to her Majefty, and all
the World, how vigorously they have oppofed Popery and Arbitrary Power, and how
vigorously they will again oppofe them, if ever they offer to return and make head.
How vigorously and fuccessfully they oppofed Popery, is vifible and legible to all
the World, to their everlafting Honour. But their vigorous Oppofition to Arbitrary
Power, in that unhappy Reign, has the Misfortune not to be fo well known to the
Kingdom, unleſs they mean the Hand they had in bringing about the Revolution. The
Noble Head of theſe Addreſſes had indeed fuch a Share in that Tranfaction, that it ne-
ver ought to be forgotten; and he oppofed Illegal Arbitrary Power, by all the ways a
brave Man, and a Lover of his Country could; but furely the Followers of him will
not affume this Honour. Let them make out their Claim to this great Merit, and all
Men living will be glad to own it. But till it appear, that they did heretofore vigo→
rouſly oppoſe Arbitrary Power in their Prince, the Promiſe of doing the like, with
equal Zeal hereafter, will and muſt be fallacious, or of little Ufe and Service; unleſs it
be, to let us fee, that they, who fay they have oppoſed Arbitrary Power, and fay they
will again oppoſe it, muſt needs believe it Lawful for other People to do the like. But
if they only mean (as I am afraid they do) by Oppofition, the Preaching up the Prince's
Obligations to keep his Oath, and not to exercife any Illegal Arbitrary Power; what
will it fignify, if, at the fame time they tell their Audience, that St. Peter and St. Paul
have tied their Hands, made all Laws ufeless, and all Nations defenceless, in Cafe the
Prince will not regard his Oaths and Obligations, but will fubvert the Laws, invade the
People's Rights, Eftates and Lives, and in a word, undo the Kingdom? Let them but
fay this plain thing-That it is not forbidden to this Nation, by any Law or Command
of God, to fave it felf and its Pofterity, from imminent and utter Ruin by Refiftance, and
we will afk no more. And if it still be aſked, who ſhall be Judges when this Ruin is
fo near, that it will want Refiftance to prevent it? I anfwer, every Lord, and every
Commoner in Great Britain.
:
}
But after all, I am come back to ſay, that whenever the Legislative Power ſhall
enact, that the Prince's Proclamations fhall be accounted Sacred as the Roman Edicts
were: That they ſhall do juſt what they pleaſe, and what they pleaſe ſhall be accounted
Legal: That to refift them, or those whom they ſhall Commiffion under Hand and Seal,
though violating the known Laws, fhall be Rebellion: Whenever this or more fhall be
done by the Legiflature, I freely own I fhall be bound by it; and own moreover, that
St. Peter and St. Paul will bind me to it. For that is the meaning of all I have been
faying, That the Word of God obliges all Subjects to fuch Obedience, and no other, as the
Laws of their Country have obliged them to: And has forbidden fuch Refiftance, and
no other, as the Laws of their Country have forbidden,
A SERMON
495
A
SERMON
Preached before the Society for the Propagation of the
Gofpel in Foreign Parts, at the Parish-Church of
St. Mary-le-Bow on Friday the 16th of February 17
Being the Day of their Anniverſary Meeting.
IÓ
II-
ACTS XXVI. Ver. 18.
To open their Eyes, and to turn them from Darkness to Light, and
from the Power of Satan unto God; that they may receive forgive-
neſs of Sins, and an Inheritance among them which are fanctified by
Faith that is in me.
S
}
T. Paul is in this Chapter, giving an Account of his Converfion, to King A-
grippa, Feftus, and a numerous Audience of Attendants, Jews and Romans
and amongſt other things he tells them, that Jefus Chrift, who appeared to
him, told him he would deliver him from the People, i. e. the Jews, and
from the Gentiles, to whom he was now ſending him. The Errand he now fent him
on, was this, expreffed in the Words of the Text; to open, &c. In which Words we
have, Firſt, a Deſcription of the State the Gentile World was then in; their Eyes were
ſhut, they lived in Darkness, and under the Power of Satan. Secondly, The change
that Chriſtianity was to make in them; it was to open their Eyes, to turn them from
Darkness to Light, and from the Power of Satan unto God. Thirdly, The end of this
Converfion, that by Faith in Chrift they might receive forgiveness of their Sins here,
and an Inheritance hereafter in Heaven among the Saints, or them which are Sanctified.
Firſt, Here is a Defcription of the State and Condition the Gentile World was then
in, expreffed by Blindness and Darkness, as the moſt comfortleſs, fo the moſt hazard-
ous Eſtate of Life; and by being under the Power and Dominion of Satan, the declared
Enemy of God and Man; the great Ufurper of God's Honour, and a great Tyrant
over all his Vaffals. Thefe Expreffions are all of them Figurative, and put to ſhew
how deplorably funk the World was,, in Worſhip and in Practice; plunged into all
Idolatry, and into all fort of Wickedneſs, into which they fell, being blinded in their
Understanding. Their Idols (faith the Pfalmift, 135.) are Silver and Gold, the Work of
Men's Hands; they have Eyes, and fee not; Ears, and hear not; Nofes have they, and
Smell not: They that make them are like unto them, and ſo are all fuch as put their Truſt
in them. The Man who diſcerns not the Vanity of Idols, is as blind, with reſpect to
Reaſon, which is the Eye of the Soul, as the Idol it felf is, which feeth not, though
it look as if it could. And as for Sin, it is every where repreſented as a State of Blind.
neſs, and all its Works are accounted Works of Darkness, as well becauſe Men cannot
fall into them, before they have extinguiſhed the Light that God hath placed in them
to guide and direct their Steps; as alſo becauſe they are generally afhamed of them,
3
and
496
A SERMON preached before the Society for the
and feek Concealment and Obfcurity; and becauſe they lead to Mifery and Puniſhment,
which the Scriptures call a place of outer Darkneſs.
The Power of Satan implies, 1. The Idolatry in which the World was then, and lọng
before held; all Worſhip befides that of the true God, terminating in Him, who is
therefore called the God of this World. 2. The Power and Poffeffion he had in, and
over Mens Bodies, to afflict and torment them with Diſeaſes and ſtrange Sufferings;
which God for fome fecret Purpoſes, but efpecially for the greater Manifeftation of the
Power and Glory of His Son Jefus Chrift, permitted thoſe bad Spirits to exerciſe in
greater Degree and Meaſure, about, and at the time of Christ's appearing in the Fleſh,
and for about Two Hundred Years after, than ever He did before or fince. And 3.
it implies (and that moſt commonly in Scripture) the Power and Dominion of Sin; Sa-
tan being in ſome fort the proper Author of Sin, the firſt Sinner himself, and the firſt
Seducer of his Fellow-Angels; the firft tempter of Mankind to Sin, the great encou-
rager of it ever fince, and the defigned Executioner of God's Vengeance on it in the
World of Mifery to come. For theſe Reaſons, all Sin is in a manner referred to Him,
as to its firſt Principle; and all Sinners are called his Children, his Subjects, and his
Servants: Not that he is indeed a Father, a Prince, and Master of the World, (as
ſome too eaſily conclude from theſe and ſuch Expreffions) but becauſe they do his Works,
they follow his Example, and imitate this apoftate Spirit, in his Wickedneſs and Dif-
obedience; and are therefore faid to be under his Power and Dominion as well when
they follow the wicked Devices of their own Hearts, as when they are actually led by
his Suggestions, and truly tempted by him.
$
From this Ignorance of the true God, from this Blindnefs of their Understanding,
from theſe Works of Darkneſs, and from this Power of Satan; the Apostles, as the
Miniſters of Christ, were to deliver the Gentile World: Which was the Second thing
I was to ſpeak to; for ſo faith Christ himſelf: I ſend thee to open their Eyes, to turn
them from Darkneſs to Light, and from the Power of Satan unto God, i. e. Chriſtianity
was to overthrow Idolatry, root out the Worſhip of many Gods, and to reform the
wicked World in all Inftances: It was firſt to introduce the Worſhip of one, and the
true God into the World, and then to conform the Reaſon and Manners of it, to his
Will, to engage Men to live with one another, like Children of the fame common Fa-
ther, and Subjects of the fame Prince, and Servants of the fame Mafter. Theſe were
the two great things that Chriftianity was to do, to convince the World that there was
but one God, and that the way to pleaſe Him, was to live well with one another, to
do Juſtice, fhew Mercy, live Virtuously, and diſcharge Honeftly the Duties of our na-
tural, and our civil Relation.
Our Saviour preaching to, and living with the Jews, who were now free from all
Idolatry, does not often take notice of this great End of his coming, to let them know
there was but one God: But the Apostles, who were to go into the Gentile World, are
full of this Doctrine, and always infift upon this Article. They muft indeed, as they
did evermore, begin with it; for Chriftianity fuppofes it, and without that Bottom can-
not ſtand. Revealed Religion pretends to be the Will of God declared to Mankind;
but if there be more Gods than One, then there may be more Revelations, and con-
trary to this that is now brought: And a Man may be as much obliged to receive them,
as this, and that in the end comes to nothing; for contrary Obligations, if equal, void
each other, and leave Men at their Liberty. One may fee, by all the Writings of the
Apoſtles, and by all the Apologies of Old, in Behalf of Chriſtians, and their Faith, that
nothing was to be done with the Gentiles, till they believed there was but One God.
This alfo made good Way for the Reception of that pure Morality, that Chrift com-
manded to be taught: for, as the idolatrous Worſhip of the Gentiles was generally ac-
companied
3
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.
497
companied with Rites, either cruel or obfcene; fo the returning to the Worship of the
true God, aboliſhed naturally thoſe bad Cuſtoms. And as Men think they ought to
endeavour to reſemble, as well as they can, the God they worship; fo by having God
repreſented to them, juſt and true, holy, merciful, and good, they would naturally
conform their Manners to thoſe Notions. Which is one Reaſon why the Chriftian Mo-
rality exceeds all others; becauſe the Chriftian Revelation diſcovers a more excellent
and perfect fupream Being, than any other Inftitution or Religion.
Theſe Diſcoveries of the true God, who is fo holy, juft, and pure a Being, and of
the way of worſhipping Him acceptably, by addreffing to Him in, and through the
Mediation of his Bleſſed Son, together with the abfolute Neceffity of leaving all our
Sins, and of endeavouring to be holy, juft, and true, and merciful our felves, as he en-
ables us to be:- Thefe Things, I fay, are implied in Opening the Eyes of the Gentiles,
and turning them from Darkness to Light, and from the Power of Satan unto God.
To live in Ignorance and Error is no uneafy State, becauſe no Condition of the
Mind is any farther Evil than it is apprehended fo; and whilſt Men are ignorant of
the Truth, they feel no real want of it: nor can they well defire it, whilſt they do not
know they have it not. But to live under the Power of Satan, i. e. under the Domi-
nion of Sin, is really grievous and uneaſy, a Thing that reaſonable Men do truly fuffer
under, and complain of. They find themſelves vexed and difquieted with their own
Paffions, and are neither at Reft under the Importunity of many of their Defires, nor
yet
with their Indulgence and Satisfaction: They feel a Sort of War within themſelves,
betwixt their Appetites, which are tumultuous and diſorderly, and their Reaſon, which
would fain reſtrain them; And although they know not naturally how to deny them-
felves, yet they are fecretly convinced they should and ought, are pleaſed when they can
and do, and grieved and afhamed of their Weakness when they yield. Thus far the
Reaſon and natural Confcience of fome Men have carried them, without the Aid of
Revelation: And therefore wife and reaſonable Men would be glad to be delivered from
this Bondage they are under, to their own corrupt Affections, confidering them as trou-
bleſome, though not finful, and to be redeemed to ſuch a noble Liberty, as Reafon tells
them they might and ſhould enjoy. But when, moreover, they confider, that their
diſorderly Affections do not only fhew them to be weak and imperfect Creatures, but
by yielding to them, make them falfe, unjust, cruel, impure, and mischievous, and
confequently odious in the Sight of God, and obnoxious to his Anger, and what Ven-
geance may be justly due to thofe Offences When they confider this, they find
their Sins not only burthenfome, but hazardous, and fuch as give them Fear as well as
Trouble.
From this Fear and from this Hazard, Chriſt's Religion only can deliver Men; that
is the End of their Converfion, that they may receive Forgiveness of Sins, which is the
Third Thing to be ſpoken to.
By Forgiveness of Sins, is properly meant the Remiffion of that Punishment that is
due to Sin; for, if Sin were not puniſhable, it were not to be forgiven: And look what
Apprehenfion People have of their Danger; juſt ſo they value their Deliverance and
Eſcape: And therefore forgiveneſs of Sins, is a Matter of infinitely greater Confequence
with Chriftians, than it could be with the Gentiles, or feems to have been with the
common Jews; becauſe the Christian Revelation opens a much fadder Scene of Mi-
fery to wicked and impenitent People, than common Reafon could diſcover to the Gen-
tiles, or the Law and Prophets did to the Jews, at leaſt with any clearness: The Wrath
of God is now Revealed against all Unrighteoufnefs, and the Effect of it, is endleſs Pu-
niſhment, in Pains moft exquifite: Deliverance from which, is now included in the
Forgiveness of Sins: And fo St. Paul faith, 1 Thef. i. 1o. That Jefus delivereth us
from the Wrath to come. And Heb. ii, 14. From him who hath the Power of Death,
3 H h
i. e.
498
A SERMON preached before the Society for the
i. e. the Devil. There is no way of diſcovering the Mercy and Goodneſs of God, in
fending His Son to die for the forgiveneſs of Sins, like fhewing the aſtoniſhing Danger
to which thofe Sins had certainly expofed us; and whoever will truly understand, in
order truly to value Chrift's Redemption, muſt firſt confider the Captivity in which He
lay, the Chains He was laden with, the Darkness in which He fat, and the Puni-
ment to which He was referved. Confider what that Saviour and Redeemer faith him-
felf, Matt. xxv. 41. Depart from Me, ye Curfed, into everlasting Fire, prepared for the
Devil and bis Angels: And ver. 46. Thefe fhall go away into everlasting Punishment,
but the Righteous into Life Eternal. Confider what St. Paul fays, 2 Thef. i. 7. When
the Lord fhall be revealed from Heaven with his mighty Angels in flaming Fire, taking
Vengeance on them that know not God, and obey not the Gafpel of our Lord Jeſus Chriſt,
·who fhall be puniſhed with everlaſting Deſtruction. Let us find as many Figures as we
will, in theſe and fuch like Paffages, the Truth muft needs be, that the Puniſhment
affigned to wicked and impenitent People, in the other World, would certainly be
-great and endleſs; which thews us alfo what the Mercy is, of having our Sins forgiven;
and what a mighty Saviour and Deliverer Chrift was, who was, as the Angel faid, to
• fave us from our Sins.
But the Goodneſs of God is like Himfelf, Infinite. He does not only fave us from
our Sins, but crowneth us with Mercy and Loving Kindness. The Defign of fending
Chriſt into the World to live and die for us, was not only that we might thereby re-
ceive the forgivenefs of Sins, but alſo an Inheritance among the Saints, or them which
are Sanctified: Whom He will Justify, them He will alfo Glorify. It is with Men, we
fee, one thing to Pardon, and another to Reward; but with God, it is the ſame; they
whofe Sins fhall be forgiven, fhall alfo be Inheritors of everlafting Happineſs. The
Reaſon of that is, that the Purpoſe of God was, that Man continuing Innocent and in
Obedience, was to be for ever Happy, and nothing but Sin could poffibly defeat this
gracious Purpofe, and put him under God's Diſpleaſure; but Sin intervening did it;
the Mifchief therefore had been endleſs and irreparable, had not God in his boundleſs
Mercy, fent his Son to die for the Forgiveneſs of our Sins: So faith St. Paul, 2 Cor.
v. 20. For he hath made Him to be Sin for us, (i..e. He dealt with Him, as if He had
been a Sinner) who knew no Sin, that we might be made the Righteouſneſs of God in
Him. The only thing therefore that caft Man out of God's Favour, being thus re-
moved and taken away, He became Reconciled to God, received again into His Fa-
vour, and returned, as it were, to his former State of Happineſs. Thefe means of
Grace brought back with them, the hopes of Glory which were loft by Sin..
I have not, I fee, been able, within the Compaſs I have taken, to ſpeak to the
Words of the Text, with near that Clearneſs and that Fulneſs which they very well de-
ſerve. I choſe them upon THIS OCCASION, becauſe they contain in them, the
fhort, but very lively Deſcription, as well of the fad Eftate and Condition of the Gen-
tiles, with refpect to the Worſhip of the true God, the Knowledge of Jefus Chrift,
their Vaffalage to Satan, and their Slavery under Sin; as alſo of the Remedies that God
in his boundleſs Goodneſs hath provided for thefe Evils, Faith in his Son, Repentance
of their Sins, and Obedience to His Laws; together with the inestimable Favours, Privi-
leges, and Mercies that attend the Converfion of them to Chriſtianity, forgiveneſs of
Sins, and an Inheritance among the Saints, in everlaſting Happineſs.
-
7
For theſe Reaſons it was, that I choſe theſe Words to ſpeak to; and becauſe the Ap-
plication of them to our prefent Meeting is fo eafie and fo proper. For if the end of
my appearing here be (ás I think it is) to excite the Zeal of every one that hears me,
to contribute all that in them lies to the Advancement of the Kingdom of Chriſt, the
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts: What fingle Motive can I name, what
Argument or Reaſon can I bring to effect this End, that is not properly reducible to
fome
Propagating of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.
499
fome of thefe forementioned Heads? The World with which we are concerned, ftill
fits in Darkness and the fhadow of Death: The People as ignorant, as vicious, and ido-
latrous as then. The Gofpel brings as glad Tidings of Peace and Salvation to Thefe, as
Thofe Their Wants are much the fame, fo are the Remedies. And if the Miffion be
not now fo Perfonal and immediate, as St. Paul's in this Cafe was, from Chrift him-
felf; yet I am fure the Miffion is fo general, and the Command fo binding, that I believe
it would be hard for any fingle Chriftian in the World, to find himself exempted fron
complying with it, according to the meaſure and degree of his Abilities and Opportuni-
ties. Go, faith our Lord, and make Difciples in all Nations, Baptizing them in the
Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost Teaching them to obferve
all Things whatſoever I have commanded you: And lo! I am with you alway, even unto
the End of the World.. The Work is to laft as long as there is Occafion; and though it
put into the Hands of his Apoftles, and all that fhall fucceed them to the World's
End, in all the neceflary Parts of their Miniſtration, and fuch as are peculiar to their
Office'; yet does the Reafon of the Command oblige all other Chriftians to be as Service-
able, Uſeful, and Inftrumental to the fulfilling it, as they are able. No Chriſtian is
exempted from contributing to the beſt of his Power, to the fpreading and enlarging
the Kingdom of Chrift, the giving Him the Heathen for his Inheritance, and the utmoft
parts of the Earth for His Poffeffion: Not that every Chriftian or every Church-Man is
hereby obliged to leave his Country to convert the Infidels, but that fuch be fent, to
whom fuch Work is proper, and encouraged and affifted in their Undertakings, with
all the Advantages and Powers, that Governments are able to afford them; and that all
private Chriftians forward and affift them by all the Means and Methods they are ma-
fters of, doing whatever in them lies towards a Work of fuch unspeakable Compaffion
and true Charity.
be
Now taking this for granted, that all Chriftians, both by the Nature and Reaſon of
the Thing, as well as Chrift's Command, ftand.obliged to contribute to the bringing the
whole World to the Knowledge and Faith of Christ, as they have Opportunity and
Abilities of doing it-Taking this for granted, it will be very hard to find Excufes
for thoſe Chriftian Governments, or thoſe private Chriſtians, who are not content barely
to paſs by, and neglect the Opportunities of bringing many thouſand Souls to Chrift,
who died to fave them all; but who really diſcourage fuch as, animated with true and
godly Zeal, would undertake that godly Work.
That I may not loſe my ſelf in Generals, nor be encumbred with too many Parti-
culars, I will at this time, with your Patience, confider only the Cafe of fuch, as will
not permit their Slaves to be inftructed in the Faith of Chrift, and brought to Baptiſm:
A thing fo common in all our Plantations abroad, that I have reaſon to doubt, whether
there be any Exception of any People of ours, who cauſe their Slaves to be Baptized.
What do theſe People think of Chrift? What of their Slaves? What of themselves?
What do they think of Chrift? That He who came from Heaven, to purchaſe to
Himſelf a Church, with his own precious Blood, fhould fit contented, and behold with
unconcern, thoſe who profeſs themſelves his Servants, excluding from its Gates thoſe
who would gladly enter if they might, and exercifing no lefs Cruelty to their Souls (as
far as they are able) than to their Bodies? One may afk with Indignation indeed, what
fuch People think of Chrift? But it is more proper to ſay, they think not at all of
Him: For if they would confider him in any Quality or Capacity whatever, as Savi-
our, Law-giver, Head of His Church, or Judge, they would no more venture to lay
an Impediment in any one's way to Converfion, than they would throw themſelves into
the Fire deliberately. It would be as hard for them, to give an Account of what they
think of thoſe unhappy Creatures, whom they uſe thus cruelly: They fee them equally
the Workmanſhip of God, with themſelves; endued with the fame Faculties, and in-
tellectual
1
500 A SERMON preached before the Society for the
tellectual Powers; Bodies of the fame Fleſh and Blood, and Souls as certainly immor-
tal: Theſe People were made to be as Happy as themſelves, and are as capable of be-
ing fo; and however hard their Condition be in this World, with refpect to their Cap-
tivity and Subjection, they were to be as Juft and Honeſt, as Chaſte and Virtuous, as
Godly and Religious as themſelves: They were bought with the fame Price, pur-
chafed with the fame Blood of Chrift, their common Saviour and Redeemer; and in
order to all this, they were to have the Means of Salvation put into their Hands, they
were to be inſtructed in the Faith of Chrift, to have the Terms and Conditions fairly
offered and propoſed to them. Let any of thefe cruel Maſters tell us, what part of all
theſe Bleffings were not intended for their unhappy Slaves by God, purchaſed for them
by the Blood of Chrift, and which they are not equally capable of enjoying with them-
felves? What Account then will theſe Maſters give of themselves, who were the Occa-
fion and the Inftruments of bringing theſe unhappy People, from a Country where the
Name of Chrift is never heard, or called upon, into a Country where Chriftians govern
all, and Christ is called their Lord and Maſter, and yet will not permit theſe Slaves to
be Inftructed, and become the Servants of this heavenly Mafter? Who bring them, as
it were, into Sight of the Waters of Life, and then with-hold them from receiving any
Benefit from them! They hope, it is likely, God will be Merciful to theſe unhappy
Creatures, though they themſelves will not be fo: Their Hope is good; but they have
Reaſon to fear God may deny that Mercy to themſelves, which they deny to others:
And no Man living can affign a better and more juſtifiable Cauſe, for God's with-hold-
ing Mercy from a Chriftian, than that Chriftian's with-holding the Mercy of Chrifti-
anity from an Unbeliever. If theſe Men ever read the Scriptures, and meet with ſuch
a Queſtion as this—Lord, are there few that be Saved? What a ſtrange puzzle
muſt they be at to make an Anſwer? I for my own particular part hinder, as much as
poffibly I can, fome Fifty or an Hundred, it may be many more, from being Saved.
I can be certain only of the Salvation of Chriftians, and therefore am my ſelf a Chri-
ftian: I know it is impoffible for any one to become a Chriftian, without being in-
ſtructed in the Knowledge of Chrift, and being afterwards baptized with Water, in the
manner and form preſcribed by Chrift himſelf; and I know I hinder all theſe People
that are under me, from being Inftructed and Baptized; go on-Therefore I know
I hinder them, as much as in me lies, from being Saved. I dare not for all the World
renounce to my own Baptiſm: I would not venture my own Salvation on God's un-
but
promiſed, unrevealed Mercy, without the being made a Chriftian, as I ſhould;
yet
I have nothing to depend upon, but that unpromifed Mercy for theſe poor Creatures;
and now, it is in my Power to feal that Mercy to them certainly, by Means and In-
ſtruments of God's own Appointment, and yet I refufe to do it. The Scriptures will
read ſtrangely with fuch Practices as theſe; and a Chriftian hindring others from be-
coming Chriftians, muſt needs be a ſtrange Creature, even to himſelf, when he confiders.
To theſe and other heavy Objections that lye to this inhumane Practice, there are
but two or three poor Pretences that muſt anſwer, which I will now confider in a few
Words. The First is, that were their Slaves Chriftians, they would immediately, upon
their Baptifm, become Free. The Second is, that were their Slaves Chriftians, and ftill
to continue Slaves, yet they ſhould be obliged to treat them with more Humanity and
Mercy, than the nature and neceffity of their Service would admit of, to make their
Maſters Gainers. And the Third is much of the fame kind, that were their Slaves
Chriftians, they could not fell them, it being Unlawful, they fay, to fell Chriftians.
To the Firſt of theſe Pretences, namely————That ſhould they fuffer their Slaves to
be Baptized, they would immediately become Free-We may Anſwer, that were
this true, the Miſchief of it would be no greater in our Plantations abroad, than it is
at home, where there is no fuch thing as Slavery, but all our Work is done by hired
Servants;
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.
501
(
་
Servants; for good Wages and good Ufage will always invite Servants, even to the
hardeſt Labours: And if this would not turn to a good Account, it were better the
World ſhould pay much dearer for the Pleafures and Conveniencies thofe Places afford,
than purchaſe them fo cheaply at the expence of fo much Mifery, fuch Cruelty and
hard Treatment of Men, as good as our felves, and at the hazard of their Souls. But
allowing this would be fome Inconvenience to the Civil Government, with refpect to
Trade, is there any Queftion, whether the Bleffing of God upon their Piety and good
Deſigns in furtherance of his Glory, in the Salvation of Mens Souls, would make an
ample Compenfation for all the Inconveniencies and Lofs it might fuftain, by making
their Slaves, or letting them be made Chriftians? But after all, what confidering Man
would run the hazard of being under God's Difpleafure, by hindring others from be-
coming Chriftians, for all the Profit, Honour, and Advantage in the World? But Se-
condly, there is no fear of lofing the Service and Profit of their Slaves, by letting
them become Chriftians: Their Avarice and Cruelty are grounded on a certain Mif-
take: They are neither prohibited by the Laws of God, nor thofe of the Land, from
keeping Chriftian Slaves; their Slaves are no more at Liberty after they are Baptized,
than they were before. There were People in St. Paul's time, that imagined they were
freed from all former Engagements, by becoming Chriftians; but St. Paul tells them,
this was not the meaning of Chriſtian Liberty; the Liberty wherewith Christ had
made them Free, was Freedom from their Sins, Freedom from the Fears of Death,
and everlaſting Mifery, and not from any State of Life, in which they had either volun-
tarily engaged themſelves, or were fallen into through their Misfortune. Let every Man
(fays He, 1 Cor. vii. 20.) abide in the fame Calling, wherein he was called. Let every
Man know, that his being called to the Faith of Chrift, does not exempt him from
continuing in the fame State of Life he was before; it makes no alteration of his Con-
dition in this World; the Liberty of Chriſtianity is entirely Spiritual. Art thou called,
being a Servant? care not for it; but if thou mayst be made free, uſe it rather. Art
thou Baptized and made a Chriſtian, being a Slave? mind it not; be not much con-
cerned at it; but if thou canst obtain thy Liberty, by fair and honeſt Means, uſe it ra-
ther, take the Opportunity: If Liberty comes legally, or by the Favour of thy Patron,
accept of it by all Means; thou mayft thereby be better enabled to ferve God, when
thou art at thine own Difpofal. Brethren, let every one wherein he is called, therein
abide with God. In a Word, the Law of Christ made no changes of this Nature,
but left Men under all the Obligations and Engagements that it found them, with
reſpect to Liberty or Bondage: Nor do the Laws of the Land hinder People from being
Slaves when they become Chriftians. Chriſtianity has fo long prevailed in theſe Parts of
the World, that there are no Advantages or Privileges now peculiar to it, to diſtinguiſh
it from any other Sect or Party; and therefore whatever Liberties the Laws indulge to
us, they do it to us as English-Men, and not as Chriftians. If therefore it be lawful in
our Country, to have or keep any Slaves at all, it is equally lawful to have or keep them
fo, though they are Chriftians: The Laws do not diftinctly favour Christianity in this
Point: And if they ſhould ſee fit to do it here at home, where there is no Occafion for
fuch Slaves, what need were there yet of doing it abroad, where there is great Occafion
for them? And fuppofing Christianity did (by the favour of Laws, and by the Indul-
gence of Princes) immediately emancipate and free all Slaves receiving Baptiſm, yet
fince it would be fo much, either to the Difhonour of God, the Prejudice of Chrift's
Religion, or to the prejudice of Trade and Civil Government at home; who could de-
fpair of obtaining Laws, to reconcile theſe Intereſts, in an Age fo free and fruitful of
Laws as ours is? I would not have any one's Zeal for Religion (much leſs my own) ſo
far outrun their Judgment in theſe matters, as to cauſe them to forget that we are a
People who live and maintain ourſelves by Trade; and that if Trade be loft, or over-
3 I i
much
502
A SER MOŇ preached before the Society for the
much diſcouraged, we are a ruined Nation, and fhall our felves in time become as
very Slaves, as thofe I am fpeaking of, though in another kind: I would not therefore
be underſtood, in what I have already faid, or in what I am to fay farther, to plead for
any other Liberties or Privileges, than what are reconcileable with Trade, and the Na-
tion's Intereft, though a little perhaps abated.
But this, I ſay, is a Miſtake common to Maſters and to Servants, and occafions the
latter to feek for Baptifm purely for the fake of Liberty, without Regard to the true
unfpeakable Advantages of Chriftianity; and occafions the former to hinder them, by
all Means, from being Baptized, for fear of lofing their Service; and with as little re-
gard to the Spiritual Privileges, which they thereby with-hold from thoſe unhappy Peo-
ple: Whereas if both were undeceived, the Maſters would be no lofers, and the Ser-
vants the greateſt gainers in the World.
The Second Pretence is this, That ſhould their Slaves continue Slaves after their Bap-
tiſm, yet they ſhould be obliged to uſe them with lefs Rigour, than the nature and ne-
ceffity of their Service will admit, if their Maſters muſt be Gainers by them. This in-
deed is ſomewhat for the Honour of Chriſt's Religion, that it commands the Exercife of
all Compaffion, Kindneſs, and good Nature towards Chriftians; but this, I think, is
common to moſt Religions with it, which equally favour their particular Profeffors;
and Christianity diſtinguiſhes it ſelf from them, by commanding Mercy and Compaf-
fion to be ſhewn to all the World alike, without refpect to Sect or Party, unleſs where
there is an unavoidable Occaſion of Preference. We are commanded to follow His
Example, who is rich in Mercy towards all, whether Jew or Gentile, Bond or Free.
Should fome Neceffity compel us to deal hardly with either Jew or Chriftian; our Love
to Chrift, and Honour to His Name, would foon determine where the Hardſhip were
to fall; but where there is no occafion for any Preference, the Chriftian Religion does
as ftrongly and certainly oblige to fhew Mercy and Compaffion to Jews and Gentiles, as
to Chriftians. The Commands of Chrift do certainly bind us to pity all Mankind, to
do to all Men, indiſtinctly, all the good we can, and not to Chriftians only; for that
would be to fall into the Partiality of the Jews, who would only fhew Kindneſs to
Jews, which Christ himſelf reproves, and condemns as a ftraitneſs and narrowneſs of
Mind, and falling very ſhort of His extenfive Charity: So that to deal more rigorouſly
with an Infidel than with a Chriftian, is to compliment our Saviour with Difobedience;
to do fome Honour to His Name, which He would have us pay to His Nature, in
ſhewing Kindneſs to our Fellow-Creatures: It is therefore a great Miſtake at the bot-
tom, to think themſelves at Liberty, to treat a Savage, and an Infidel, with Inhuma-
nity and Rigour; but it is a ſtrangely cruel and moft wicked Abfurdity that is built on
this Miſtake: I may not uſe a Christian Unmercifully, therefore I will not let this Sa-
vage be a Chriftian, for fear I may not uſe him afterwards unmercifully. What a
Mockery would it be, to pretend that I cannot relieve a Man, becauſe he is not quali-
fied for my Charity, when I know at the fame time, that I hinder him from being
qualified, leaſt I fhould find my felf obliged to relieve him? What is this, but to hinder
him, as much as in you lies, from being happy for ever, for fear he ſhould be a little
more at Eaſe in this Life? Be true to your Religion, and go through with it; it obliges
you to fhew all Pity and good Nature, even to the Bodies of your Slaves; and then
when that is fettled and believed, you will find your felves difpofed to fhew all Mercy
to their Souls; fince the beſt Reaſon you can find for being cruel to their Souls, is
fetched from the Fears of being afterwards difabled from being cruel to their Bodies.
Were one talking to good Chriftians on this Subject, we ſhould only need to ſay to
them-Here is an Opportunity of being merciful both to the Souls and Bodies of
your fellow Creatures, for whom Chrift died, as well as you, and both whofe Soul and
Blood He will require at your Hands, at the laſt Day, as far as you were inſtrumental
in
Propagating of the Gofpel in Foreign Parts.
503
ļ
in Tormenting the one, without Occafion, and moft just Neceffity; and in hindring
the other from coming to the Knowledge and Faith in Chrift, that was to fave it.
The Third and laft Pretence, is built upon the fame Bottom, i. e. that of Intereft:
For, fince they bought their Slaves for Money, they fhould be Lofers by permitting
them to be made Chriftians, fince after that, they could not part with them for Money;
it being, they fay, Unlawful to fell Chriftians.
Away with all theſe Honours, that are fo hurtful to our Lord! I dare engage He
parts moſt freely with them: He well remembers, how he who betrayed Him, gave
Him firft a Kifs; and could never fince endure, that a feeming Refpect fhould do Him
Miſchief, and debar Him of a real Advantage. A Chriftian muft not, it feems, be
Sold; but then he fhall not be a Chriftian, becauſe he may not afterwards be Sold.
This is too like to Hail King of the Jews, and Buffetting Him, bowing the Knee
before Him, and then Spitting at Him. If Christ might be the Advocate for thefe poor
People, He would confent, He would intreat they might be Sold, condemned to Bonds,
to Stripes, Imprifonment, and Death, rather than live the Slaves of Sin, and Unbe-
lievers, the freeft and moſt arbitrary Princes of their Country. He was Himfelf both
Sold and Bound, and loves a virtuous and religious Slave, rather the better for his Chains
or Clogg. Let but the Soul be free from Sin, and the Hands clean from all Unrighte-
ouſneſs, and He regards not how the Body is incumbred with its Weights, nor how
thoſe Hands are worn with Bonds and Labours.
But after all, it is far from certain, that the Laws forbid a Chriftian to be Sold:
If Men had truly a Propriety in their Slaves before they were Baptized, and could
diſpoſe of them as they do of other Goods and Cattel for Money, or its worth, I
dare be pofitive the Laws of Clarift will not deprive them of this Property; and I am
very fure the Laws of the Kingdom take not away the Right of fuch a Sale, upon re-
ceiving Baptiſm, if it were juſtifiable before.
But did the Laws indeed pretend, in fuch a fort, to honour Chrift's Religion, it could
be no hard matter to convince our Lawgivers, how prejudicial all fuch Favours were to
Chriſtianity; and to defire them no longer to honour Chriftians already, with fuch Pri
vileges as put a Stop to the Propagation, and farther growth of Christianity; but let the
Chriſtians (as was faid above) be Sold, and Bound, and Scourged, condemned to Bonds
and Impriſonment, to endure all Hardships and Difgrace, and to enter into Heaven,
Blind, and Halt, and Maimed, rather than having two Eyes, and Hands and Feet en-
tire, to periſh Miſerably. That is the Sum of all I have been faying, (and which may
fhame one to recount) that were theſe Reaſons and Pretences, for with-holding Bap-
tifm from our Slaves in our Plantations abroad, juftifiable and true, they ought to be
removed: And all that can confider feriouſly thefe Things, will certainly confent, nay,
and be glad, that Slaves, though Christians, might be Bought and Sold, and ufed like
Slaves, rather than ftill be Bought and Sold, and ufed like Slaves, and not permitted to
be Chriftians. And one may wonder how a Chriftian Government can look
upon it
felf as unconcerned in this Affair; and only confider thefe unhappy Wretches, as Crea-
tures that fave the Kingdom the Charge of tranfporting Horfes, and Beafts of Carriage,
for the Islands Service, without reflecting on their Shape and Form, and intellectual
Powers, and without looking up to. Chrift their common Mafter, the Saviour and Re-
deemer of us all.
This unconcernednefs of the Publick it is, moft probably, that encourages a great
many private People at home amongst our feltes, to keep thefe Africans, or Indians,
in their native Ignorance and Blindneſs, and to continue them Infidels in the midst of a
Chriftian Kingdom. Thefe People ought to think what anfwer they will make to
Christ, when He fhall afk them; why they would not help to increaſe His Kingdom,
and to make their fellow Creatures as Happy, as they hoped themſelves to be, by being
called
504
A SERMON preached before the Society for the
called by His Name? Such Queftions will be aſked them, with Severity enough, and
will require a better Anſwer than, I fear, the fubtileft Chriſtian in the World can
make: And therefore, fure, it were better to prevent them by removing the Occafion.
Thus I have done with the fingle Cafe, that I propoſed to confider at this Time.
The Excellent Labours of my Honoured Brethren, who have gone before me, in this
Exerciſe, have truly made it almoſt neceffary for me, to confine my ſelf to ſome ſuch
fingle Subject: They have, with ſo much Learning, Piety and Prudence, and fo dif-
creet a Zeal, handled all the general Heads; that whether I fhould have tried to
fhew the Excellency and Uſefulneſs of fuch an Inftitution and Society, as ours is: The
general Obligations all Chriftians, and in particular, all in holy Orders, lye under, to
promote this Charitable Work of bringing Souls to Chrift; or whether I ſhould have
ventured to preſcribe and lay down Rules for the conducting our felves and others in this
Affair; or have propofed fome proper Means, for the better carrying on this great De-
fign; or fhould have ſpent my Time in returning Thanks and Praiſe to God, for the
Grace He hath given to thoſe who, all along, have fhewn an Exemplary truly
Chriſtian Fervency, in promoting, and contributing to this good Work; or in Encou
raging, Exhorting, and Perfuading others to the like: Whatever of this kind I ſhould
have undertaken, my beſt Endeavours had, I find, been happily fuperfeded.
But that which chiefly inclined me to fpeak to this particular Cafe, at this Time,
was-That it is really, now, our own Cafe; a thing, in which we are all of us here,
that belong to this Society, fo perfonally concerned, that it behoves us, every one of us,
to think of it. We are now, by the Munificence of a truly Honourable Gentleman *,
our felves become the Patrons of at leaſt Three Hundred Slaves, who are to Cultivate,
and be Maintained upon the two Plantations he hath left to this Society, for the pro-
moting Learning and Religion.
>
The Name of this our Noble Benefactor will certainly be held, by this Religious Cor-
poration, in everlaſting Honour and Remembrance. And though the conſtant good
Effects of this his Bounty, will ſpeak his Praiſes to Pofterity; yet fome good Hand, I
hope, will fooner pay due Honours to his Memory, and recommend his great Example
to fuch as fhall be found able, in ſome Degree, to follow it. For, give me leave to
affure you, (you that know it not) that after all that hath been done, the Illues, and the
neceſſary Charges of the Society, do double, very near, the certain and the fettled Yearly
Income of it, and that too, but just as certain and as fettled as the Life of Man: And
therefore it requires that others alſo, like this our good Araunah, ſhould give as a King.
I fee, and cannot but adore, the gracious Hand of God, in thus fupplying our Necef-
fities, by cafual unexpected Charitable Benefactions: Nor have we any Reaſon to dif
truſt the Continuance of His Goodneſs, whilſt we fincerely feek His Glory, and the
Good of Mankind. But He Himself, who, for a Seaſon, bid the Ravens feed the
Prophet, and then commanded a Widow Woman to fuſtain him, (her ſelf the while
fuftained by Miracle) 1 Kings xvii. 4, &c. yet, after, left him to fubfift, as others did,
by common Providence, and ufual humane Methods- -But I forget my ſelf——————The
thing I was to ſay, was this, or fomething like it; That if all the Slaves throughout
America, and every Iſland in thoſe Seas, were to continue Infidels for ever, yet ours
alone must needs be Chriftians: We muſt inſtruct them in the Faith of Christ, bring
them to Baptiſm, and put them in the way that leads to everlaſting Life. This will
be preaching by Example, the moſt effectual way of recommending Doctrines, to a
hard and unbelieving World, blinded by Intereſt, and other Prepoffeffions.
And this, it may be, will weigh more, and operate better, with thoſe who are con-
cerned, than the Example both of French and Spaniards will, who all along have
*Colonel Codrington.
brought
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.
505
brought their Slaves to Baptifm. Who could endure fo abfurd and wounding a Re-
proach objected with Cauſe, as thisThat thoſe poor Men, the Profit of whoſe never-
ceafing Labours is beſtowed by a Chriftian Gentleman, on a Society erected and eſta-
bliſhed by a Chriftian King, (of ever glorious Memory) to propagate the Chriftian
Faith, fhould not themſelves be fuffered to be Chriftians? How would that merciful
Command of God, in Deut. xxv. 4. rife up in Judgment and condemn us all-Thou
ſhalt not muzzle the Mouth of the Ox, that treadeth out the Corn, i. e. Thou shalt not
ſtarve the Creature, whilft he is preparing Bread to feed his Mafter. That Text, I un-
dertake to ſay, ſhall never be applied to this Society, with any manner of Reproach.
The Servants of this Society fhall be, affuredly, the Lord's Free-Men, whatever elſe
their Condition ſhall be in this World; and yet, I hope, even that will be changed a
good deal for the better: They muſt be Chriftians, and they will be treated too as ſuch,
i. e. with all the Mercy and good Nature that can well be fhewn, confiftently with
their continuing Uſeful and Laborious Servants, which certainly are things that may be
tolerably reconciled. And yet, with all the warmeſt Wiſhes and Defires that a zealous
Heart can have, to fee this matter take Effect, it will be very difficult for a confider-
ing Man, not to conclude, it muſt, and ought to be, a Work of Time, and the matu-
reft Counfels: It will require, and will employ the ableft Heads we have, and Men of
the moſt comprehenfive Views amongst this great Society, to find out fuch a Bleſſed
Medium. And to their beſt Deliberation, Circumfpection, utmoſt Caution and Difcre-
tion, but moſt eſpecially to God's Bleffing, it is that we muſt leave it; to whom be
aſcribed, as is moſt due, all Honour, Glory, Praiſe and Dominion, now and for ever.
3 K k
A SERMON
506
A
SERMO
MON
On the FAST-DAY, January the 16th 17, againſt
Such as Delight in War. By a Divine of the Church
of England. Now reprinted exactly from the Ori-
ginal, with fome Additions which were omitted by
the Publiſher of the former Impreſſions.
·
PSALM LXVIII, Ver. 30.
Rebuke the Company of Spearmen, the Multitude of the Bulls, with
the Calves of the People, till every one fubmit himſelf with Pieces of
Silver. Scatter thou the People that delight in War.
D
AVID having brought the Ark of God up to Jerufalem, and prepared a
noble Tabernacle for its Reception, was in hopes that God would be more
favourable to him, for its Sake and Prefence; and having already obtained
fome great Advantages over his Enemies, and being again engaged in fome
new War, he compofed this Pfalm, wherein, as he returns his Praifes for his former
Succeſs, ſo he implores anew the Affiſtance of God in his preſent Expedition; and en-
courages himſelf to hope for it, from the many fignal Favours he had heretofore ſhewn to
his People, in bringing them out of Egypt, fufcaining them in the Wilderneſs, and ſet-
tling them in the Land of Canaan; And the Words of the Text are a kind of Prayer
of Imprecation againſt his Enemies, that all the Hindrances of Peace might be re-
moved, and all the Inftruments of War confounded; Rebuke the Company of Spearmen,
the Multitude of the Bulls, with the Calves of the People, till every one fubmit himſelf with
Pieces of Silver. Scatter thou the People that delight in War. Of which Words I will,
in the first place give a fhort and eaſy Explanation; and in the fecond, fee what Ufe
we may make of them.
Firſt, Of the Terms here uſed. By the Company of Spearmen, we naturally under-
ſtand Soldiers, that being a Weapon generally uſed in all Armies; and by rebuking
them is meant humbling their Pride, and ſtopping them in their Carreer. By the Mul-
titude of Bulls, are meant Kings and Princes, Generals and great Officers; thofe Crea-
tures being put, in Scripture, to denote the great Men of the World, fierce and wild,
head-ſtrong and violent, ranging about the Grounds and Paſtures, not to be bounded or
reſtrained. So in Pfal. xxii. 12. Many Bulls have compaſſed me, ftrong Bulls of Bafhan
have fet me round. So in Ifa. xxxiv. 7. Ezek. xxxix. 18. Amos iv. 1. Hear this
Kine of Baſhan, that are in the Mountains of Samaria, which oppreſs the Poor and cruf
the Needy; which ſay to their Maſters, Bring, and let us drink. In all which Places are
underſtood, infolent and wanton great Men, that rome about lawleſs and uncontrolled,
and take the World before them to be all their own. By the Calves of the People may
be underſtood the Common Soldiers, who follow their Leaders, as thofe Creatures do
the Chief of the Herd; led by Sight and by Example, without any confideration of their
own. Theſe and their Commanders David prays may be rebuked, and brought ſo
ye
low,
A SERMON on the Faft-Day, &c.
50%
low, that they may come and fubmit themſelves, and bring their Tribute in their
Hands, which is the Meaning of humbly bringing pieces of Silver with them, becaufe
they paid their Tribute and their Ranfom in them. So that hitherto the Words of the
Text are a Prayer of King David, that God would utterly fubdue, and bring to nought
his Enemies, both Prince and People, Generals and their Armies. They are not to be
underſtood of any of his own People either Civil or Military; for that had been a little
below his Princely Dignity, who was entirely Maſter of his own Affairs, and the fole
Judge of Peace and War, himſelf. Nor are they to be understood of any Nation,
Prince, or People in Alliance with him, for he was in none at this Time, that we
know of; but they are to be underſtood of thoſe his Enemies, who were actually in
War againſt him, and the following Words are more particular, and tell what kind of
Enemies theſe were, and fhew withal the Juftice and the Reaſonableneſs of fuch a Prayer.
Scatter thou (he offers it to God) the People that delight in War, the Kings and People
that do not go to War unwillingly, and upon abfolutely juft and neceffary Grounds and
Occafions, and fuch Affronts and Injuries, and Provocations, as are not to be endured
with any Safety to the Publick; but fuch as make Occafions when there are none; and
fuch as take the leaft Occafions, and lay hold upon the ſmalleſt Injuries, and ſlighteſt
Provocations: Such as go to War to fatisfy their Vain-glory, their Ambition, their Co-
vetouſneſs, and their exorbitant Defire of Rule and Riches: Such as delight in War, for
the Power of Miſchief and Revenge-Sake, and for no truly good and honeft Caufe.
Theſe are the People David begs of God to ſcatter and confound. And this is a Prayer,
that every good and wife Man joins with him in, and cannot help faying Amen in ear
neft to it. Let us fee to the Thing it felf, after this Explanation of the Terms.
Peace is, undoubtedly, the State, in which God made, and with which he defigned
to blefs the World; as well becauſe he intended we fhould all of us be happy (which
out of Peace we cannot be) as alſo that the Violation and Breach of it always proceeds
from Evil, and is occafioned through fome Fault or other, which is contrary to God's
Purpofe and Deſign, and againſt fome general or particular Command. One of the
Parties either does to the other what God forbids him to do, or refufes to do what God
commands. All War arifes either from pofitive Injury done, or from Denial of doing
Juftice. Theſe things demonftrate evidently, that War is contrary to God's Defign,
and that Peace is the State and Condition which he approves; and in which Men can
be only univerfally happy; for God defigns that all Men fhould be happy even in this
Life;
and he commands that no one ſhould do Injury to his Neighbour: Now War oc-
cafions Miſchief to Mankind, and Injury generally is the Occafion of War.
:
But although God's primary. Intention and Defign, was to make and keep Men
happy, and that Peace would certainly effect it, in its proper Inftances; yet is not War
therefore unlawful, upon that Side where it is juft and neceffary; but is equally ap-
proved of God, with Peace it felf, as being the only way of compaffing the Ends of
Peace; it was the neceffary means of regaining that Security and Eafe, which was loft
by Injury and Injustice; and it is not to be endured, when it is not in Order to a true
and lafting Peace. The Commands of God are, certainly, that all Men fhould live in
the conſtant exercife of Juftice, Truth, and Charity to each other; and therefore it is
as much his Will, that a Man fhould fuffer no Injury from another, as it is that he
fhould do none to another; fo that whatſoever is abfolutely neceffary to the preferving
or reftoring Eafe and Security to Mankind, muft needs be approved of God, becauſe it
is the way and means by which they only can arrive at that happineſs, which God in-
tends Originally to blefs them with; for the conftant fuffering of one Nation at the
hands of another, does not beget or procure Peace, but rather invites repeated Injuries.
There would be, otherwife, no reconciling the Lord of Hofs, with the God of Peace;
i e. the Diflike he has of all Violence and Mifchief offered by one Man, or one Nation
to
508
A SERMON on the Faft-Day, Jan. 16. 1711-12.
to another, with the many Commands he gives himſelf, to His own People, to war
againſt ſeveral Nations, and his raifing up feveral Nations againſt his own People, fome-
times almoſt to their Extermination and Excifion. And thus it is, we are to under-
ſtand the many Precepts and Exhortations to follow Peace, and to the avoiding Quarrels
and Contentions, in the Gofpel. Our Saviour is indeed the Prince of Peace, and the
Gofpel is the Gospel of Peace, and Chriftians are to be the Sons of Peace, even in the
literal Senfe. And it is certain that if the Precepts of our Lord were obſerved, as they
ought to be, there would be neither private Quarrels nor publick Wars: Becauſe that
every thing that may either occafion, or prevent Debate or War, is certainly commanded
or prohibited by Chriſt, ſo that Chriſtianity is profeffedly and defignedly the Doctrine
of Peace, and they who obferve it carefully, will purfue nothing but Peace. And in this
Senſe it is true, that War is againſt both the Deſign and Doctrine of Chrift; and if all
Men were good Chriftians, there would be no fuch thing as War in the World. But it
will not from hence follow, that all Wars and Contentions among Chriftians, are un-
lawful, becauſe that the Doctrines of Chrift would (if attended to) prevent them: No
more than it follows that all Penal Laws, and all Judicial Oaths, are unlawful among
Chriſtians ; becauſe they are commanded every One, To love his Neighbour, and to
Speak the Truth, and to do no wickedness. If all People would ſpeak nothing but Truth,
and all the Truth they were required to fpeak, an Oath would be needlefs, and the Te-
ſtimony of God be called upon in vain; it would neither be wanted to the Confirma-
tion of Truth, nor to the making an end of any Difference, becauſe the Truth would
be as well diſcovered without it, and the Difference be as well decided, And fo, if all
Men would be Juft and Righteous, as Christ commands them to be, there would be
no occafion for Magiſtrates to puniſh them with Death, or Baniſhment, or Confiſcation
of Eſtate. But it does not from hence follow, that when the Truth cannot poffibly be
diſcovered, without a Solemn and Judicial Invocation of God, as a Witneſs and Aven-
ger, nor the Diſputes and Differences of Men be otherwiſe determined, that then an
Oath ſhould be unlawful, although Chriftians are commanded not to Swear: Nor that
evil Doers, and wicked and unjuſt People, are not to be puniſhed and put to Death, al-
though all Chriſtians are commanded in the Gofpel, to be merciful, and not to kill. The
Occafion both of Oaths and Puniſhments is fomething Evil, and undoubtedly forbidden
by Chrift; but when this Evil is committed, and this Occafion given, Chrift does not
command Men not to puniſh evil Doers, nor to fecure themſelves againſt the like, or
greater Miſchief for the future. And fo it is in the Cafe of War, if People would be
juſt and true, and good Chriftians, there would be no fuch thing as War
among them;
but if they will be falſe, and covetous, and cruel, and ambitious, and offend againſt
the Laws of Christ, they muſt be puniſhed for their being fo; or at leaſt Chriſtianity
does not hinder the injured and afflicted from endeavouring to fecure themſelves from
fuffering more Evil, and from repairing the Miſchiefs they have already fuffered. It can
ferve no End or Intereſt of Religion, to command a People to undergo whatever Evils
a wanton, ambitious, or malicious Adverfary can fee fit to inflict. For the true Rea-
fon why any one private Perfon is counfelled in the Goſpel, rather to ſuffer patiently,
than retaliate an Injury, is, to prevent a greater Miſchief than that which he fuffers,
which private Revenge would certainly occafion to him; for there is, really, no intrin-
fick Worth in fuffering, nor is it a thing that God delights in: But it is for the Peace
and good of Mankind, that they ſhould have their Paffions in Subjection, and be Ma-
fters of themſelves, and ſubdue thoſe violent Inclinations moft Men have to vindicate
ſeverely the leaſt Affronts and Injuries that are offered them; which ſtill beget new
Quarrels, and occafion greater Miſchiefs. But now this End would not be anſwered by
tying up
the Hands of one Party only: And it had been to deliver up Chriſtians (as faft
as they became fuch) into the Will of their Enemies, with their Hands and Feet fettered
and
against fuch as Delight in War.
509
and bound; and would have prevented the Converfion of the Heathen World; for what
Kingdom would have turned Chriftian, if they had been thereby expofed to the Infults
of all their Neighbours, and must have been tied to make no manner of Refiftance?
This would have put a moſt effectual Bar to the fpreading the Doctrine of the Gofpel.
And therefore the evident and unavoidable Miſchiefs and Abſurdities that would follow,
make it demonftrable, That War, when it is juſt and neceffary, is not unlawful and for-
bidden to Chriſtians. It is not on any fuch Account that David curſes, in a manner,
all the Inſtruments of War: Rebuke the Spearmen; and ſcatter thofe that delight in War.
For he was himſelf a great Warriour, and fought the Lord's Battles, as they are called,
becauſe they were in Favour of his chofen People, and becauſe they were profpered by
him: But the Streſs of the Prayer is bent againſt ſuch as took delight in War, and made
it their Choice, without a very juſt Occafion, and moſt abſolute Neceffity.
There are few People in the World, fo barbarous by Nature, or who have by Cuſtom
and cruel Practices acquired fo inhuman a Temper, as to take a Delight in the Mife-
ries of Mankind, that are the ufual and almoſt unavoidable Conſequences of War. The
horrible Waſte and Defolation of fair and fruitful Countries, the Sacking and Burning
Rich and Populous Cities, the Mutilations, Wounds, and Deaths of the Men of Arms,
the Cries and Lamentations of the miferable Sufferers of all forts, are things that the
moſt inſenſible and hardened People cannot poffibly delight in. But if they will neg-
lect, and overlook, and venture the bringing all thefe Miferies and Evils upon Peoples
Heads, although they fee and know them unavoidable, rather than forego the Satisfac-
tion of their vain, ambitious, covetous, or cruel Defires, then they are properly ſaid to
delight in War, and the evil Confequences of it, let them pretend to never ſo much Care
and Tenderneſs of Peoples Lives and Fortunes.
upon the
It is the hard Fortune of Mankind, that they cannot poffibly live without a ſtrict
Subjection to fome Governors; and that they who are intrufted with that Government,
muſt of Neceffity have a very great Power, which they may alſo abuſe, if they will,
to Purpoſes directly contrary to the very Ends of Government. They muſt have a
very great Power, or elſe they can do no great Good; for a little Power can do but
little Good, or prevent but little Evil; and therefore it is in vain to expect any confide-
rable Matters from a too-cloſely limited and reſtrained Power. And yet where there is
a great Power of doing great Matters and much Good, there is alſo a Power of doing
great Miſchief, if it be miſapplied: And that muſt needs depend very much
Will of thoſe who have that Power. Thus, for a great many good Reaſons, the Power
of Peace and War is, in moft Nations, lodged in the Hands of Princes; and therefore
we ſee that Peace or War, depend much more upon the Temper, Humour, Will and
Diſpoſition of Princes, than on the true and juft Neceflities of their Kingdoms. Some-
times a Prince is by Nature fearful and fluggiſh, or elſe given up to Luxury and Soft-
nefs, and therefore will not be alarmed by the moſt infolent and loudeft Provocations,
and by the greateſt and moſt laſting Injuries and Affronts; but will endure beyond all
Reaſon, both Infamy and Lofs, rather than be diſturbed. This is a Patience that is
neither Chriſtian nor Princely, nor indeed Manly, but ſuch as frequently entails great
Mifery, as well as great Diſhonour on a Nation : For the Blood of a People does fome-
times, like ſtanding Waters, ftagnate, putrify, and breed corrupt and dangerous Hu-
mours; and though a long and ignominious Peace, be eafy to that prefent Generation
which enjoys it, yet it breaks out on their Pofterity with greater Violence and Hazard.
And therefore fuch an obftinate Reſolution of maintaining Peace whatever happens, is
really no Kindneſs to a Nation at the long-run; and fuch a Prince has the Power of the
Sword committed to him to no purpoſe, when the juft Occafions and Neceffities of his
People will not prevail to the drawing it out, in their Defence. There is certainly an
Excefs on this Hand, as well as on the other; and this Extreme is alſo faulty.
1
3 L 1
But
510
ASERMON on the Faft-Day, Jan. 16. 1711-12.
But it happens but very feldom, and therefore is the lefs regarded. The Evils that
opprefs the World, do generally proceed from the contrary Tempers and Refolutions of
Princes. Sometimes a little Injury is deeply refented, and fome trivial Satisfaction or
Demand being denied, is laid to Heart, and made the Occafion of a War: Sometimes
a Fortreſs, City, or a little Country lies conveniently for ſuch a Prince, and, if it were
in other Hands, would greatly incommode him; the Want of this is not to be endu-
red, and an Opportunity of gaining it muſt needs, at any Rate, be found and taken
hold of: Sometimes a Miſchief very diſtant and uncertain is ſtrongly apprehended, and
muſt needs be guarded againſt; and ſuch unreaſonable Precautions oft occaſion Wars :
Sometimes one Prince has an Advantage in his Hands of greater Force, of Money,
Arms, and Men, and only wants an Opportunity of ufing it againſt another; and
therefore fets himſelf to ſeek an Occafion of invading him, which any the ſmalleſt Mat-
ter gives him, there being little wanting where both the Will and Means are ready:
Sometimes the very Hope of Spoil, and rich Rewards brings War into an inoffenfive
Country; and fometimes the Ambition of a great Name, the Honour of a Triumph,
the Glory of finding out new Enemies, and conquering ftrange Countries, have en-
gaged great Kingdoms in great Wars.
All theſe things, and many other fuch, mean and unworthy as they are, have been
the Occafions of bringing mighty Calamities and Miſeries upon the World. Not a
fingle Paffion of thoſe great Men, though never fo unreaſonable and extravagant, but is
gratified at the Expence of a prodigious Treaſure both of the Blood and Money of their
Subjects. This, I ſay, is the hard Fortune of Mankind; but yet it is almoſt inevitable,
for the Power of Peace and War is, to prevent a world of Inconveniencies that would
otherwiſe ariſe, moſt wiſely placed in Princes; and yet if it is not exerciſed with the
greateſt Prudence and Goodneſs imaginable, it is liable to the greateſt Abuſe, and to be-
come the Inftrument of every evil Affection and Suggeſtion. So eaſy is it to find out
Excuſes, and that under the pretence of the Publick Good, and of a juſt and abſolute
Neceffity, to gratify the moſt vain-glorious Humour, the moſt ambitious, covetous, or
cruel Inclinations.
There is none but Good Angels who have the Power of doing Good and no Evil. All
mortal Creatures that are capable of doing Good to Men, are, by the fame Power, en-
abled alfo to do them much Miſchief; and they who are by God's Appointment, and
by the Nature of their Office, to be the Inftruments of great Good to Mankind, may
by the fame Means be, as they often are, their great Plague and Miſchief: And there
is no one way of being fo miſchievous to the World, at one Time, as taking delight in
War.
It was not without fome Wit as well as Reaſon, that Philifcus adviſed Alexander,
whilſt he was feeking Glory and Immortality of Fame, that he ſhould take good heed
that he did not make himſelf a Plague or Peftilence; intimating that great and forward
Soldiers were, in Truth, no better than infectious ravaging Diftempers, wafting whole
Countries, and defolating Cities: That thoſe Diſeaſes were indeed recorded to Pofterity,
and lived in Fame, but were both horrible and odious to all that heard of them or read
them. And indeed, if there be any Difference betwixt thefe Plagues, it is to the Ad-
vantage of thoſe meerly Paffive ones that are the Inftruments of God's Providence, in
puniſhing the World, themſelves without any Malice or Defign; and David, under
the hard Neceffity of choofing one, chofe the deftroying Angel of God, rather than
the Sword of War, to puniſh his Offences; knowing that the infinite Compaflions of
God fail not, but that he, in the midſt of Wrath, thinks upon Mercy; whereas the
Fury of enraged victorious Men is deaf, and obftinate, and unrelenting.
Theſe warlike and ambitious Leaders make good Pictures when they are dead: They
make a ſhining Figure in our Hiftories, and fill our Chronicles with great variety of
Events,
against fuch as Delight in War.
511
•
Events, they flore the Childrens Memories with brave Exploits, and entertain them
with Delight and Pleaſure; and raiſe fantaſtick high Conceits in the Minds of their
Countrymen, as though they were enobled by the Valour of their Anceſtors, and that
their Victories reflected Praife and Glory on their late Defcendants. Theſe are the
mighty Benefits that many of theſe Heroes of Antiquity conferred upon Pofterity, and
worth, no doubt of it, that vaft Expence of Blood and Treaſure theſe great Conqueſts
coft them! What is the Peace and Quiet of the World, the Lives, and Liberties, and
Fortunes of a great many hundred thouſand Subjects, in Compariſon with the Name of
Conqueror? Nothing is certainly too dear, to have it faid, that fuch a Prince extended
his Dominions to fuch a Sea or River, fo many Leagues beyond their former Bounds:
This is exceeding fine, although at the fame Time it is fo many Leagues beyond all
Faith, and Truth, and Reafon, and Confcience; and that it is certain, that when he
broke through fuch a Country, he alſo broke through Juſtice, Honour, and Religion,
through the moſt folemn Leagues and Contracts, confirmed with Vows, and Promifes,
and Sacred Oaths, in the moſt ſerious and tremendous manner, and that he valued nei-
ther God nor Man equally with a good Frontier.
This is the Way theſe Princes take to Fame, and their Poflerity Praife their Saying,
without confidering how much Mifery they brought upon their Generations; How
many innocent People fuffered both of their own and other's Subjects; How many
thoufands died; How many more were reduced to the extremeft Mifery, and the
whole Nation brought almoſt to Beggary. It is a wrong Way the World is in, to crown
thoſe Actions with their Praiſe and Admiration, that ſhould rather be charged with In-
famy and Curfes. I know not by what ſtrange Delufion it is, that Pofterity reads, with
the greateſt Pride and Pleaſure, the Events and Actions of thofe Reigns, that were un-
doubtedly the moft oppreffive of their Anceſtors; not with the Joy of People faved
from fuch a Shipwreck, and fecure themſelves, but with a wild Ambition and Defire of
riding in the like Storms. But fure the peaceful and the quiet Reigns were much the
eaſieſt to the Subject.
But fince the Character of taking Delight in War is fo truly infamous and odious in
the Sight of God and all good Men; It is but reaſonable and juſt that we ſhould take
great Heed of fixing it, where it is not certainly deſerved, and ought to ftand. A State
of War is contrary to that of Peace; but one is full as lawful as the other; and the
Spirit of God affures us by the wifeft of Men, That there is a Time for one as well as
for the other, Ecclef. iii. 8. The greateſt Princes of the World have fometimes been
the greateſt Captains, conſtrained by the Neceffity of their Affairs to be continually en-
gaged in Wars, either repelling Force, or vindicating Wrongs, or gloriouſly afferting
Liberty. Would it be well to treat the Memories of thoſe Princes ignominiouſly, as
taking Delight in War, by whom alone it came to paſs that any one could take Delight
in Peace with Liberty? Were this a ſuitable Return for ſuch a reſcued miſerable op-
preffed People from all the Infolence and Violence of either Civil or Religious Tyranny?
Would it be well to brand the Generals thus who fought their Princes and their Coun-
tries Battles, at the conftant Hazard of their Lives, only becauſe they reaped the Ho-
nours and Advantages which their great Services deferved, and which their Stations
would have claimed, had they been neither wife nor valiant, nor fuccessful !
Would it be well to lay this heavy Charge upon the meaner Officers, or even upon
the common Soldiers, who live in Arms, defend their Country, and annoy the Enemy,
although they had no other Motive to it but their Pay? If their Employment be not
honeſt and allowed, they fhould be told fo; but if it be, they can no more be faid to
delight in War, i. e. in all the Miſeries and mischievous Effects of War, than they who
carefully look after People's Health, to take Delight in their Diſeaſes and their Sufferings;
or they who plead the Cauſes of their Clients, to take Delight in People's Injuries and
Oppreffions;
512
A SERMON on the Faft-Day, Jan. 16. 1711-12.
Oppreffions; or they who are the Miniſters of Juftice, can properly be faid to take Delight
in the fevereft Executions of it; although they all of them are well rewarded for the
Pains they take, and would not undertake thofe Offices without it. This were too
thankleſs and injurious a Treatment of thoſe brave Men, by whom we enjoy our Safety
and our Eaſe; and who, befides the Hopes of Recompence, may be prefumed to act
upon as worthy and as honourable Principles, as thoſe who are the readieft to difarm them.
Theſe are the Fallacies the Men of Craft would put upon the People, who have been
long accuſtomed to be fed with Words inſtead of Things. PEACE is the happy Sylla-
ble that every Body likes, and thinks he underſtands, and fanfies it contains a thouſand
Bleffings, which yet, in truth, belong not to it. But be it as full of Bleffings as it will,
it is not however true, that all who live in War, nor all who gain by War, fhould
take Delight therein. That is too hard a Character to be mifapplied and fixed without
great Certainty, on any one.
Nor is it leſs unjuſt and miſchievous, that all who judge not right of the Neceffity of
War, fhould be reproached as Enemies to Peace: That is another Artifice of the dark
Maſters and Promoters of all Slander, by which they delude the unwary and inconfi-
derate ones. The military Men who ſtand in their Way, muſt by all Means be faid to
take Delight in War, becauſe it is their Trade; the Civil who would fain be fafe, and
fly for Refuge to the Camp, muſt all of them be repreſented as Enemies to Peace.
Theſe are the odious Skins in which Men cloath their Enemies, before they think of
hunting them: But is this Ufage honeft, juft, or Chriftian-like? Is it not poffible for
Men to be miſtaken without Malice? Or to judge amifs without Deſign of hindring
any Good, or doing any Evil? Methinks in Matters that at leaſt are doubtful, and
where the Event alone can rightly determine which of the contending Parties judged
the beſt, a little better Quarter might be given, and a more favourable Cenfure paffed.
Are the People who ſeem to be afraid of an unſecure Peace, ſo deſtitute of all Defence,
as to deſerve immediately to be eſteemed its Enemies? Can Men upon the fudden fall
into Confidence and good Opinion of a Prince, whom never Creature trufted yet but
was deceived? Or are we at length become a Match in Fraud and Fineſſe for that
Court, fo that we need to apprehend no Danger from it? Has it been long a Fault to
be ſuſpicious of French Menagery? How comes it that all the Princes of the World
abroad concur in the fame Diftruft and Diffidence of this their common Enemy; and
ONE eſpecially, who if he means well to himſelf, means certainly as well to us? But
fince Authorities and great Names are Arguments that rather filence than convince, and
fince Respect ſtops many a Reply that Reaſon has in readineſs, I leave this facred Shel-
ter, and betake my felf to common Senfe, and only defire to know, whether the Men
themſelves who are on this fide the Queſtion, are not as fit to Judge, and as capable of
Judging as their Neighbours? Is it becauſe they underſtand not fo well the fituation of
Affairs abroad, or thoſe at home? Do they want Skill, or Obfervation, or Experience?
Are they much leſs acquainted with the Riches or the Poverty, the Strength or Weak-
neſs of the Enemy, or of their own Country than other Folks? Or know they nothing
of the Powers and Intereſts of other States and Princes, or how to ballance them? Or
have they no Eſtates or Fortunes of their own at home to fave or lofe? Do they not
equally contribute to the Publick Charge, and are they not Affeffed like other Men?
Is not the Service of the War by Sea and Land, Is not the Civil Lift, and every Branch
of the Revenue, affifted by their Payments in proportion to their Powers, as much as
by thoſe who differ from them? Are they leſs Hoſpitable, leſs Beneficent, leſs Chari-
table than their Fellow-Subjects? Are they lefs fenfible of Grief or Lofs, than other
Folks? Does not the War deprive them of their Relations, Kindred, Friends, and Ac-
quaintance? And does it not abridge them of many great Conveniencies and Pleafures?
And, in a word, do they not fuffer equally with any People in the Kingdom? In what
Refpects
against fuch as Delight in War.
513
Reſpects can War be advantageous to Them? In what can Peace be prejudicial more
than each will be to others in common with them?
I could to theſe add numberleſs Inquiries. more, and make Recriminations without
End, if they would ferve to any good and honeſt Purpoſe. But our Diffenfions want
no Irritation; what I have faid may be fufficient to fhew (where People will
open their
Eyes or Ears) that there is neither Senfe nor Reaſon, nor Juftice, in calling thofe who
are afraid of an infecure One, Enemies to Peace.
And thus, having ſhewn whom David meant, and whom he meant not, in his Prayer
to God, to ſcatter thoſe who delighted in War: And alſo fhewn, what Reaſon and
Juſtice People have to deteſt ſuch Men as truly deſerve that infamous and hateful Cha-
racter; as alſo, whom we ought not to charge therewith, or with the being Enemies
to Peace: I have, I find, but a little time left, for an Exhortation to Repentance, and
the humbling our felves before Almighty God, in order to the obtaining Pardon of all our
great and manifeft Tranfgreffions; the averting of thofe heavy Judgments which our Pro-
vocations have deferved; and for imploring a Bleſſing on the preſent Treaty, that thereby
may be produced, an honourable, fecure and lafting Peace, to us and our Allies; and alſo
to beg his Bleſſing on our United Arms, till fuch a Peace ſhall be ſubmitted to. Great
things indeed, but not too great for Him, of whom we come to aſk them! But oh,
let not the Lord be angry if we humbly pray Him, that we may not want theſe mighty
Bleffings, till he can give them to our Humiliation and true Repentance! But let us
owe them quickly to his undeſerved and boundleſs Mercy!
The War we are engaged in, is acknowledged to be juft, and the Succeffes God hath
crowned it with, have been aſtoniſhingly great. And therefore they who now tell us,
that we entred wrong into it, are thoſe I doubt, who would have us go wrong out of it.
Or if they mean that we have been at too great Charge, it is manifeft they know not
how to value thofe Succeffes. But I would fpeak to Englishmen. Thefe great Succeffes,
it is plain, have not been over-bought, becauſe we are told—It is by them, that the
Enemies have been fo far reduced, as to make Proposals for treating of a general Peace.
Would they have done it then, without theſe great Succeffes? Or could we have
obtained theſe great Succeffes at a leſs Expence? I am as glad to confront ſo ſenſeleſs a
Slander, with fo great an Authority, as I am to ſay, that our Enemies have been at as
great an Expence at leaſt, to loſe their Country, Cities, and their Armies, as we have
been to win them, take them, and overcome them: And that their Children, and
their Children's Children will be paying Debts (if Arbitrary Governments pay Debts)
contracted by Diſgraces, Loffes and Defeats, which left them fighing ftill in Chains and
Slavery, while our Pofterity ſhall be diſcharging Debts contracted by their Fathers, to
leave them the Proteftant Religion, a Proteftant Succeffion, and (which muſt keep them
both) their Liberties.
The Bleſſing that we are to afk upon this Treaty, is, I conceive, in other Words-
That We may have the Wiſdom and the Refolution to demand, and to infift upon, and
that the Enemies may have the Juftice and the Grace to yield up, what we have hi-
therto been fighting for; as well becauſe it is to be an honourable, fecure, and lafting
Peace (which otherwiſe we think it could not be) to Us and our Allies (who are to
judge of it, as well as We) as alſo becauſe we are to beg the Divine Affiftance on our
United Arms, till the Enemies fhall fubmit to fuch a Peace, as we would have, by Treaty.
Now furely, there is little need of fighting and continuing on a War, to obtain a Peace
that would have none of thoſe good Epithets belong to it; and therefore the Peace we
beg for as a Bleſſing, muſt needs be fuch a one as we have been all along wiſhing for;
it muſt be ſuch as will be honourable, fecure and lafting. And there are none, I hope,
in all the Queen's Dominions, that will not heartily pray for fuch a Peace, or readily
contribute to fuch a War.
Our
3 M m
514
A SERMON on the Faft-Day, Jan. 16. 1711-12, &c.
Our Enemies themfelves will hardly have the Malice, or the Confidence to fay, this
Nation is an Enemy to Peace, or that whatever could be done, has not been done, in
order to the obtaining it. But we fhall alfo give them Caufe, I hope, to fay, that al!
that caff be done in order to the carrying on the War, is alfo done. The firft, without
the laft, would only give them a Pleaſure that we owe them not, and make us their
Scorn, who have been hitherto their conftant Terror. But let us not fo much as pre-
fage the leaſt Evil! I know very well, in whofe Hands, under God, we are.
This is a
Peace or War, that is not like any other Peace or War that we or our Fathers have
feen. It is one of the greateſt Misfortunes that could befal this Nation at this Time,
that People's Confideration fhould be fo fhort and flight, as to think this Treaty will de-
termine only whether they fhall fave a little Money by Peace, or ſpend a little more
by carrying on the War; whereas it will determine, in all likelihood, whether they
ſhall ever have Abilities and Power again, of giving or refufing. I do not mean that
we ſhould Article for or againſt a new Religion, a new Government, and a new King.
But I mean, that unleſs the Peace be good, thofe things will certainly follow, in their
Time, without and againft all Articles: And therefore no Man can be too follicitous
about this great Event, that will determine the Fortune of Europe for many Years, and
it may be for many Ages; and for our own particular, determine, in its Confequence,
of all we have. And therefore, they who are in earneſt zealous for the Glory and Safety
of the Queen, the Prefervation of the Proteftant Religion, and the Proteftant Succeffion,
and for the English Laws and Liberties, will certainly beg of God, fo to direct, guide,
and affift thoſe whom the Queen employs in this moſt nice and perillous Affair of
Treating, that fuch a Peace may be obtained, as will fecure them all, to us and our Po-
fterity: Or (fhould the War be ftill found neceffary) that He would go forth with our
Armies, in the moft glorious and furprifing Manner he hath hitherto done, and raiſe us
up (He only can) a General, wife, and brave, and fortunate, as was our laft.
Thefe are the Bleffings that we want, and come to afk of God. But when I look at
Home, and fee the Ufe that we have made of thoſe we have already had; the Slight
that we have put upon Ten Years Succefs; the fervile, baſe, degenerate Spirit that is
growing upon us; the tame Submiffions, fhameleſs Flatteries, and unexampled Profti-
tutions of Honour and Confcience to the Mammon of Unrighteoufnefs: When I con-
fider how the Sorceries of France prevail, and with what Contempt the Proteftant In-
tereſt and Religion abroad are treated by many among us; and with what Tenderneſs
and ill-concealed Content a great many People ſpeak of One, who if ever he comes,
will bring a fure Deftruction to this Church and State, along with him: And what a
marvellous Stillneſs and Security there is, with refpect to Popery; nay, how fufpicious
a thing it grows for People to open their Mouths with any degree of Warmth, againſt
that Superſtition:
When I confider thefe, and many other things of the like kind, that cannot but oc-
cur to a Serious Man that looks about him, it makes it hard for me to hope, that the
Prayers of fuch a People fhould be heard. But when I look to God, and know he is
the Fountain of Goodneſs, Mercy, and Forgivenefs, and that he deals with Men ac-
cording to their Wants and to his Boundleſs Compaffion in Christ Jefus, then I take
Heart, and humbly pray him to beſtow the Bleffings on us we have been imploring at
his gracious Hands; and that for Jefus Christ's fake. To whom with the Father and the
Bleſſed Spirit, be all Glory, Honour, &c.
The
515
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND in
the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
PREFACE to the READER.
T
HE Author of a Book, whofe Title is, The Invalidity of Lay-Baptiſm-
having found ift, That no one could validly baptize, but he who is com-
miffioned by Christ to do it; and 2dly, That no one is commiffioned by
Chrift to do it, but he who is Epifcopally ordained; and, 3dly, That the
Man who baptized him, was not Epifcopally ordained, but a Diffenting Teacher:
This Author, I fay, tells us. very fairly, that he procured himſelf to be baptized by an
Epiſcopal Miniſter. And Dr. Hicks, in a long Letter to the Author, prefixed to this
Book, thus compliments his great Performance, P. 12. "It is againſt the Authority
"of the pretended Minifters of this [Presbyterian] Miflion, who were never duly autho-
rized, and therefore cannot adminifter truly valid Baptifm, that you have written
your excellent Book, with great Strength and Perfpicuity, as well as Modesty, and
confirmed your Doctrine with your Practice, i. e. he had been rebaptized.”
cc
tt
J
As I knew this could not regularly and lawfully be done by any Parish Priest of the
Church of England, without acquainting the Bishop of the Dioceſe therewith, as the
Rubric commands, it being a new, and (as I take it) an extraordinary Cafe; fo find-
ing it to have been actually done, I concluded with my ſelf, that the Biſhop had been
confulted with, and had given way to the folemn rebaptizing an adult Perfon, who
had before been baptized by one of the Presbyterian Ordination, in or with Water,
and in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. It did not at all become me, nor
was I concerned, to inquire, which of the Bifhops it was, that gave way to, nor who
the Preſbyter was that performed, this new Work: But I fet my ſelf in great Earneft
to confider; what the Doctrine and Practice of the Church of England was in this Cafe.
Could I have trufted either the Doctor or his Friend, I needed to have gone no farther
than this little Book; for there I found they were, both of them, very fully perfwaded,
that the Church of England does abfolutely nullify and invalidate all Baptifm conferred
by any one who is not Epiſcopally ordained; and confequently, requires all fuch as
have not been baptized by Epiſcopal Hands, to be rebaptized, fince Baptiſm is held
neceffary by her, where it can be had. But having ſeriouſly confidered the Offices of
Baptiſm, and the Rubrics, and compared them with the ſubſequent Practice of the
Epiſcopal Minifters, I could not find theſe two Writers had convincingly proved what
they intended. And not thinking my ſelf, at prefent, concerned in the main Matter
difputed, viz. Whether Lay-Baptifm be invalid, or whether all the Prefbyterian Mi-
niſters are meer Lay-men, but only to know what the Opinion of the Church of Eng-
land was in the Matter; I have, in the following Papers, only taken Notice of what
theſe two Writers alledge, as from the Church of England, in Favour of their Point :
Leaving the reft of the Book to be confidered by others, who are at Leifure, and think
it worth their while. I wondred indeed, that none of the Church of England-Clergy
had taken any Notice of this Book, and the Doctrine endeavoured to be propagated
it, efpecially the Parish-Priests of London; for if this Doctrine be true, I dare engage
there is not one of them but has a confiderable Number of his Parishioners, who are
not baptized, nor confequently Christians, and yet have lived in conftant Communion
with him, and have frequently received the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper at his
Hands; which thing ought not to have been done, if they are not Chriftians.
He muft, at this Rate, look to all the People who are upwards of fifty Years of
Age; for it is twenty to one, but that they who were baptized before the Year 1660,
were
516
PREFACE to the READER,
were baptized by Diffenting Teachers, and are confequently not baptized at all. He
muſt alſo place all fuch as have left the Separation fince 1660, and come over to the
Church, of what Age foever, in the Rank of Unbaptized, becauſe it is moſt likely they
were baptized by Diffenting Teachers. Nay he muſt look to many who were baptized
by Church of England Minifters: For fome of them were the Children of Diffenters,
and baptized by Diffenters; and though they afterwards took Orders of the Church of
England, yet not having been validly baptized themſelves, they could not validly bap-
tize others; for their being Miniſters of the Church of England did not make them
Chriftians; their Ordinations did not give them true Baptifm, if they had it not before.
What Work is here for a London Miniſter! and yet I averr that every Word of it, is,
and muſt be true, if Diffenting Minifters Baptifm be invalid, according to the Doctrine
of Dr. Hicks, and his Friend: And yet, I profeſs ſeriouſly, that though I am acquain-
ted with many of theſe excellent Perfons, and have often been at their Churches, yet
did I never hear one of them tell his People, that if they had not been baptized by an
Epiſcopal Miniſter, they muſt be baptized again, for they were not Chriftians.
<c
cr
For the Sake of theſe Confequences, I fay, I wondred not a little that the Church-
Clergy had not taken fome Notice of theſe Doctrines, which are written, printed,
preached, and recommended in Publick. They will, I affure them, when they grow to
any Head, give them more Trouble, than they now ſeem to be aware of. But it may
be they are frightned by what the Doctor fays in his Letter, P. 17. "In the fame
"Place, Sir, you ſay you hope that none veſted with this Divine Authority, will fight
againſt it, &c. which if any Clergyman ſhould do in the Manner you there mention
(i. e, appearing publickly in Oppoſition to the Subject of this Effay, of the Invalidity
of Lay-Baptifm, P. 120.) I could not but ſuſpect that he was one of thoſe, who
"took Gifts, and Preſents of the Diffenters, to let the Names of their Children, who
"had no other but Schifmatical Lay-Baptifms, be regiſtred among the true Baptiſms of
"the Church or at leaſt of another Sort, who to court the Favour and Applauſe of
"the Diffenters, either never preach in Defence of the Church againſt Them; or if
they do, they do it no otherwiſe than barely to fhew, that the Church of England
"is a fafe Communion, and that thoſe who through Miſtake ſeparated from it, would
"be in no Danger of Damnation, if they returned to it. But to fhew that Separation
<C
<C
" from it is Schifm, and by Conſequence a damning Sin; and that the Separatiſts of all
"forts from it, are, without the extraordinary Mercy of God, in great and apparent
Danger of Damnation; theſe Gentlemen love not to touch upon that Point, nor riſe
"to that Height. It was, I fuppofe, a Reflection upon theſe Men, and the Indigna-
"tion he had againſt their double Practices, which provoked a Divine [Dr. Birch]
not very many Years fince, to utter a Sarcaſm upon them, from the Pulpit, in Words
to this Purpoſe, That fome (at the Time he ſpoke it) were become Fathers of the
Church, who never were her true Sons.
(C
(c
6C
I have tranſcribed this Paffage more at large than I needed to have done, on purpoſe
to gratify the Doctor, who was fo pleaſed with it, that I think he went a little out
of his way, to fetch it in; and I am afraid he has made the filly and uncharitable Sar-
cafm, his own, by his Allowance of it. I have ventured to put down the Name of that
Divine, that People may know what Value to fet upon that Sarcafm. He was himſelf
born and bred a Diſſenter (and therefore the Doctor will not know well what to ſay of
his Baptiſm) and was brought over to the Church of England, by the Care and good
Pains taken with him, by that moſt excellent Biſhop of Oxford, Dr. Fell: But he (as
the of weak and warm Heads is) did not know where to ftop. I fay no more,
way
becauſe the Man is dead; and ſhould hardly have faid this, had not the Party, princi-
pally aimed at by the Indignation of that poor Divine, been Doctor Tillotson the Arch-
biſhop of Canterbury, whofe Name will live for ever, increaſing in Efteem with all
good
PREFACE to the READER.
517
good and wife Men, when a Thoufand of his pitiful Detracters fhall foon be quite
forgotten, or be remembred for a ſcore or two of Years, only for fome poor, peeviſh,
and unchriſtian Sayings.
But muſt it indeed be fo, that if a Clergyman of the Church of England, ſhould
write againſt this notable Eſſay, he muſt be one of theſe two ſorts of Clergymen, whom
the Doctor repreſents in fuch an odious Manner, that I hope there are not above
Twenty fuch in the whole Kingdom? Cannot a Clergyman, who fees and dreads the
Confequences fuch a Doctrine will draw after it, endeavour to perfwade his Friends that
fuch a Doctrine is not true, and try to prove it falſe by the beſt Arguments he can,
without being ranked in the Number of fuch as deſerve the Pillory and Deprivation?
P. 18. Cannot an honeft Clergyman defend the Validity, though not the Regularity
and Larefulness of Baptiſm, adminiſtred by Diffenting Teachers, without being falfe to
his facred Truft, if he believe himſelf warranted fo to do, by Scripture, and Authority
of the Church-Practice, both Antient and Modern? Muſt a Clergyman magnify his
Office, at the Expence of Truth and Charity? Or is he obliged to fuffer, patiently and
filently, the unchriflianizing not only fo many Hundred Thoufands of his own Coun-
trymen, Friends, Acquaintance, and near Relations, but all the Proteftants that are,
and have been, for almoſt two hundred Years, throughout the World, as were not, and
only becauſe they were not, fo happy as to be baptized by Men Epiſcopally Ordained?
Is he, I fay, obliged to fuffer this, and hold his Tongue, rather than by his ſpeaking
to diminish the Sacredness of his own Divine Authority, and to encourage fuch as Se-
parate, to go on in their own way? I put the worft of the Cafe, as thefe People will
fuppofe it may be; and yet no wife and learned Clergyman, will find himſelf reſtrained,
from oppofing what he accounts a miſchievous Error, and defending what he thinks an
ufeful Truth, for fear of fuch Confequences as he knows he does not defign, and knows
they are not Neceſſary, nor will follow with People that can confider foberly, and reafon
juftly. But we are fallen, God help us, into Times, when to be a good Churchman,
means nothing lefs than living up to her Doctrine, conforming to her Rules and Orders,
communicating conſtantly with her in Prayers and Sacraments: But it means, the being
loud and contentious in the Church's Quarrel; the being exceeding mad againſt all that
are not like-minded with us; the talking furiouſly for her Authority; and the decrying
every thing that looks like Moderation and good Temper towards fuch as differ from
And therefore whilft this Ferment lafts, whilft the Nation is under this Inchant-
ment, this ftrong unnatural Violence, and the Sufpenfion, as it were, of Reaſon, and
calm Deliberation, I will ceafe to wonder, that fome of the Clergy of the Church of
England, appear not againſt a Doctrine, that, if it be true, has peopled Hell with
many Millions. I will, I fay, ceaſe to wonder for a while; becauſe I know not whe-
ther Reaſon, Judgment, Learning, Perfpicuity, and all the Qualities that a good
Writer ought to have, would fignify much, if once the Word were given out, among
the Holy Brotherhood, that fuch a Book was written against (what they are pleaſed to
call) the Church. And indeed, this Argument is ſo ſtrong, that I my felf am forced to
fubmit to it. As free as I am from any of the aforefaid Reſtraints, under which the
Clergy lie; as little as I have to hope for, or to fear, on fecular Accounts; yet do I not
dare to own my ſelf, the Writer of this Paper, by fetting my Name before it. The
Deſign I have, is as good as the Heart of Man can frame: The Cauſe I plead for, is
that of the Church of England, of which I ever was, and am, and ever ſhall be, by the
Grace of God, a very faithful and fincere Member; and I am, I think, retained in this
good Caufe, by Juftice and great Charity; and I believe I have maintained it well, and
like an honeſt and a reaſonable Man: But yet I own, the Dread of drawing down the
Indignation of the Church-Rabble upon me, is fo great, that I will not have it ſo much
as whifpered, where I live, nor of what Profeffion I am. My Reaſons and my Argu-
2 N n
us.
ments
518
PREFACE to the READER.
ments have fo far favoured the Diſſenters, that (whatever my Intentions were) they
have proved them to be Chriftians, in the Opinion of the Church of England; and that
I perceive will not go well down, nor be digeſted well (the more is the pity) by abun-
dance of Smatterers, and young Students in Divinity, who would give more Credit to
Doctor H. in this Cafe, recommending a Layman's Treatife, that condemns them all,
than to a hundred other Lay-Mens Treatifes, endeavouring to make them Chriſtians,
though they ſhould come into the World, with the Approbation of the Majority of the
Bishops. And this is another Cauſe of my Concealment, becauſe I have no Heart to
engage with fuch a wrathful Generation.
And here I put my Pen into the Inkhorn, and fell into a ſtrong and deep Amuſe-
ment, revolving in my Mind, with great Perplexity, the amazing Change of our Af-
fairs, both Civil and Religious, within the compaſs of two Years! And whilſt I was
going, from the Fulneſs of my Heart, to utter ſtrange things, I was as it were awakened
and relieved, by the Vifit of an old Acquaintance, that in his Time, had been con-
fiderable in Doctors-Commons. To him, after the ufual Salutations paſt, I could not
forbear reading (ſuch was our Friendſhip) this Preface, as far as I had gone in it-
Upon which, after a little Pauſe, he replied, in his grave Manner, to this Purpofe;
“Your Zeal, I find, has raiſed you a little above your ufual Temper: I know not,
"till you ſhew me, what Arguments you have made uſe of, to prove the Diſſenters to
"be Chriftians; but I can furniſh you with one, if it has fcaped your Memory, from
"Doctors-Commons: And that is, that all the Profecutions, Excommunications, Fines
"and Penalties, that the Diffenters have undergone from the Days of Old Elizabeth,
to the preſent Times, are ſo many Proofs of the Church of England's owning them
"to be Chriftians: For the Court-Christian has nothing to do with any one but Chri-
ftians. And it would be a great Abfurdity to excommunicate a Perſon that had no
Right to Church-Communion; and he who is not baptized, has certainly no Right to
"Church-Communion."
<<
<<
"
Here my good Friend ended; and fo will I, when I have defired the Reader to
place this, as a fourth Proof of my Pofition (which I think is a very fenfible
one, and
next to Demonſtration) and when I have adjured the Diffenters, as I heartily do, both
Teachers and People, by all that is dear and valuable to them, to fulfil my Joy, in
coming, and returning, to the Communion of the Church of England; That I may
not only ſay I have proved them to be Chriftians, but that they are in this, and all
other good Reſpects, not only almoft, but altogether as I am, fincere and conftantly-
conforming Members of her.
!
1
THE
519
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND in
the Caſe of Lay-Baptiſm and of Diffenters Baptiſm.
The General Pofition is,
That the Church of England bath, by no Publick Act of hers, made or
declared Lay-Baptifm to be invalid.
I. PROOF.
T
HIS will appear from the firſt Book of Common-Prayer, which
was finished and confirmed by Act of Parliament in the 2 and
3 Edward VI. in 1548, and printed in 1549, of which Book
the Act fays,That it was, by the Aid of the Holy Ghoft,
with uniform Agreement, concluded by the Compilers. And from the fecond Book of
Common-Prayer put out in the 5 and 6 Edward VI, in 1552.
-Let
In theſe two Books, in the Office of Private Baptiſm, the Rubrics are,
them that be prefent, call upon God for his Grace, and fay the Lords-Prayer, if the
Time will fuffer. And then ONE of them ſhall name the Child, and dip him in the
Water, or pour the Water upon him, ſaying these Words, -N. I baptize thee in the
Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghoft. 1. Book.
To the Intent the Priest may examine and try whether the Child be lawfully baptized
or no-he is to afk thefe Queſtions of thoſe who bring the aforefaid Child to Church.
<<
I. By whom was this Child baptized?
2.
"Who was prefent when the Child was baptized ?
3. "Whether they called upon God for Grace, and Succour, in that Neceffity?
"With what thing or matter did they baptize the Child?
4.
ள்சம்
"With what Words was the Child baptized?
6. "Whether they think the Child to be lawfully and perfectly baptized?
Theſe things are in the 1st and 2d Books of Edward VI.
Now the Anſwer to the first Question, might well have been in Edward VI's Days-
John Lawrence the Uncle; or Jane Lawrence the Midwife, or George Hays a Neigh-
bour and Gentleman. Becauſe in Cafes of Neceffity, the Baptifm of Lay-men was al-
lowed to be uſed in the Days of Popery; and Midwives were expreffly ordered to be
taught the Form of Baptizing, in Latin. And it does not appear that the firſt Re-
formers changed this Practice. The firſt Rubric does, without any Strain or Violence,
ſuppoſe the Child to be baptized by a Lay-Perfon. The Words are general, Let them
that be preſent—and then-let one of them
-and then-let one of them-do fo and foi. e. baptize it.
I will not trouble the Reader with proving this at large, in this place; both Doctor and
Student agree, that in this Rubric Lay-Baptifm was fuppofed and allowed, but that it is
now well mended: instead of one of them, it is now the lawful Minifter. See the Doc-
tor's Letter to the Author of Lay-Baptiſm invalid, pag. 24. and the Author, pag. 112.
The ſecond Queſtion is aſked for the Satisfaction of the Miniſter and the Congregation.
For Witneſſes are not effentially neceffary to Baptiſm, but the Miniſter cannot be ſure
the Child was before baptized, unleſs it be atteſted by Witneffes.
I
The third Question may be anſwered by faying Nothing, and the Baptifm would not
be at all affected by it. For though People ſhould and ought to call upon God for
Grace and Succour, in that and all other Cafes of Neceffity, yet if they ſhould omit
or forget to do fo, through Hafte, and Fright, and Hurry, the Child might, notwith-
ſtanding that, be rightly baptized. But to call upon God for Grace, is, in this place,
to
520
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
to ſay the Lords-Prayer; as is alfo evident from the Catechism in the Words of the Ca-
techist juſt before that Prayer. And no body will affirm that the Lords-Prayer, or any
other Prayer, is fo Effential to Baptiſm, as to make it invalid, if omitted:
The fourth and fifth Queſtions muft be pofitively anfwered-With Water; and
in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Or elfe the Child
muſt be unavoidably baptized again. The Matter and Form are fo effential, that there
is no true Baptifm without them.
The fixth Queſtion to the People who bring the Child to Church, after it has been
thus baptized in private, is-Whether they think the Child to be lawfully and perfectly
baptized? To which I ſuppoſe the Anfwer may well be, Yes.
Does it not therefore follow, both from the Queſtion and the Anſwer, that a Child
baptized by a Lay-Perfon, in due Matter and Form, is lawfully and perfectly bap-
tized? Does it not follow, I fay, from Edward VI's Common-Prayer-Books, that the
Church of England then did ſo believe? I aſk, at preſent, no more: But I think it
will alſo follow clearly from hence, that lawfully and perfectly, were Words that did
not then refer to the Administrator of Baptiſm, but to the Matter and Form, and Cir-
cumſtantial Ceremonies of it. And, becauſe I may have little Credit and Authority
with the Reader, I muſt tell him, that in the Notes printed by Dr. Nichols, at the
End of his Common-Prayer (to whoſe great Care and Pains I own my felf very much
obliged, and fo I believe would others, if they would but read him) and which
go under
the Name of Dr. Overal, the Remark that is made upon the fourth, fifth, and fixth
Queſtions, is this—As the fourth and fifth Questions refer to the Subftance of Baptiſm, ſo
the fixth and laſt refers to the due Ceremonies and Circumſtances that are to be uſed there-
in, and to be fupplied in the Church, if through hafte they were omitted at home. And
if the Author of the Invalidity of Lay-Baptifm, had better confidered theſe things, he
would have ſeen that this fixth Queſtion was not quite fo flight and needleſs as he makes
it. He would have known, it may be, that perfectly was applied to the Matter and
Form; and lawfully applied to the other Particulars required by the Law, in the Ru-
brics. And I think he would not have made the following Conclufion, as he does in
Page 112. "And therefore it is no wonder that the Church of England, upon a more
"exact Review of her Liturgy, expunged this Queſtion (i. e. the fixth) out of the Ru-
bric, and alfo for very weighty Reaſons took away the Liberty of Lay-Baptizing in
"her preſent Liturgy, by requiring even in Caſes of Neceffity, that Baptiſm ſhould be
"adminiftred by the Minister of the Parish, or any other lawful Minifter that can be
procured. Which is a fubftantial Anſwer to all Objections that may be raiſed from
"her (i. e. the Church of England's) former Practice."
<c
ર
I fet down this out of the Book, Page 112, which is alſo agreed to, as a good Con-
clufion, by the Dr. in his Letter to him, Page 25.
The Church did certainly leave out the ſixth Queſtion, but certainly not for the Rea-
fon affigned by theſe Writers, but probably, becauſe ſhe ſaw there was no Neceffity for
it, and not for any Miſchief it did. She alſo left out the third Queſtion, but neither
theſe Writers nor I know why; but fo it was, and I doubt not but for fome good Rea-
fon or other. And, whether the Church did truly take away the Liberty of Lay-Bap-
tizing in her preſent Liturgy, by requiring even in Cafes of Neceffity, that Baptifm
ſhould be adminiſtred by the Minister of the Parish, or any other lawful Miniſter that
can be procured Whether the Church hath done this or not-I am now come to
confider. The Period of Time affigned for this Change and Reformation of the Ru-
bric, is 1603, the 1ft of King James I. in the Conference at Hampton-Court.
But before I come to it, I defire the Reader to remember, that I have been in Pof-
feffion of my Point, from the Year 1548 to 1603, which is fifty-five Years. Which
take in the Reigns of Edward VI, Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth. In all this
Time,
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
521
Publick
Time, the Church of England (whether Proteſtant or Popiſh) did never by any
Act of hers, make or declare Lay-Baptifm to be invalid. Now I go on, to fee whe-
ther ſhe has condemned her former Practice or not.
As for the Account of the Conference held at Hampton-Court, between the Bishops
and ſome of the Puritanical Minifters, before King James I. and all the Privy-Council;
I muſt at preſent be obliged to Mr. Fuller for it, in his Church Hiſtory. Cent. XVII.
Book IX. Page 8. The Conference began January 14. 1603.
<c
c
“Private Baptifm (ſays the King in his Speech) is the third thing, wherein I would
be fatisfied, in the Common-Prayer. If called Private from the Place, I think it
cc agreeable to the uſe of the Primitive Church; but if termed Private, that any, befides
a lawful Minifter, may baptize, I utterly diſlike it." [And here (fays the Hiſtorian)
His Majefty grew ſomewhat earneſt in his Expreffions againſt the Baptizing by Women
and Laicks.] Page 9.
<<
1
<<
<c
Archbishop of Canterbury, Whitgift.
To the Point of Private Baptifm, the Adminiſtration thereof by Women and Lay-
Perfons, is not allowed in the Practice of the Church, but enquired of and cenfured
by Biſhops in their Vifitations."
King James.
"The Words of the Book, (i. e. the Common-Prayer) cannot but intend a Permif-
"fion of Women and private Perfons to baptize."
CC
Biſhop of Worcester, Babington.
"The doubtful Words may be preffed to that Meaning; yet the
Compiliers of the Book did not ſo intend them, as appeareth by their
contrary Practice. But they propounded them ambiguouſly, becauſe
otherwiſe, perhaps, the Book would not then have paffed the Parlia
"ment."
cc
Bishop of London, Bancroft.
"Thofe Reverend Men intended nöt, by ambiguous Terms, to de-
"ceive any; but thereby intended a Permiffion of private Perfons to
baptize, in Cafe of Neceffity. This is agreeable to the Practice of the
«Antient Church. Acts ii. when three Thouſand being Baptized in a
"Day, (which for the Apoſtles alone to do, was at the leaft impro-
bable) fome being neither Priests nor Bishops, muſt be prefumed im-
"ployed therein. And fome Fathers are of the fame Opinion." [Here
he fpake much and earnestly of the Neceffity of Baptifm.]
King James.
To this he
cited the Te-
ſtimony of
the A. B. of
York.
Here he pro
duced Letters
of fome of
thofe first
Compilers.
"That in the Acts was an Act extraordinary, and done before a Church was fettled
"and grounded; wherefore no found Reaſoning thence to a Church eſtabliſhed and
flouriſhing. I maintain the Neceffity of Baptifm, and always thought the Place,
John iii. 5. Except one be Born again of Water, &c. was meant thereof.
"It may feem ftrange to you, my Lords, that I think you in England give too
"much to Baptifm, feeing, fourteen Months ago in Scotland, I argued with my Dzim
"vines there, for attributing too little unto it: Infomuch that a pert Miniſter aſked
xc me,
if I thought Baptifm fo Neceffary, that, if omitted, the Child ſhould be dam-
"ned? I anſwered, No, but if you called to baptize a Child, though privately, re-
fuſe to come, I think you ſhall be damned.
"C
cc
"But this Neceffity of Baptifm I fo underſtand, that it is necessary to be had, if
lawfully to be had, that is, miniftred by lawful Minifters, by whom alone, and no
"private Perfon, in any Cafe, it may be adminiftred.
be adminiftred. Though I utterly diſlike all Re-
baptization on thoſe whom Women or Laicks have baptized."
(c
Biſhop of Winton, Bilfon.
300
"To
522
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
σε
"To deny private Perſons to baptize, in Caſe of Neceffity, were to croſs all Anti-
quity, and the common Practice of the Church; it being a Rule agreed on, amongſt
"Divines, that the Minifter is not of the Effence of the Sacrament."
،،
King James.
<c
Though he be not of the Effence of the Sacrament, yet is he of the Effence of the
right and lawful Miniſter thereof, according to Chrift's Commiffion to his Diſciples-
"Go, Preach and Baptize, &c.
"The Refult was this, to confult, whether in the Rubric of private Baptifm, which
"leaves it indifferently to All, theſe Words, Curate, or lawful Minifter may not be
"inferted."
This is all that is left us of this Conference, with Relation to the Point in hand; and
according to this Reſult, the Rubric was mended, and the Words lawful Minifter were
inferted. But before I fet done theſe Changes, I defire I may make a few Remarks on
what paſſed in this part of the Conference.
I. From what Archbishop Whitgift ſays, it ſhould ſeem that Baptiſm by Lay-Perfons
or Women, was not fo allowed, as that it ſhould be thought an indifferent thing whe-
ther a Child were baptized by a Lay-Perfon, or a lawful Minifter. He fays the Biſhops
in their Vifitations inquired after fuch Baptiſms, and cenfured them. I make no doubt
but what this Excellent Archbishop affirmed, was literally true. The Biſhops might
cenfure both the Baptifm and the Baptizers, of this fort. But does the Archbiſhop
ſay, that ſuch Baptiſms were invalid? Did the Biſhops then give Order to have ſuch
Children as had been baptized by Women, or Lay-Perfons, baptized again, by a lawful
Miniſter?
The good Archbishop had a Mind to fay, that the Common-Prayer-Book did not ſo
much as permit Women, or Lay-Perfons, to baptize. But the King (and I think with
great Reafon) was perfwaded of the Contrary, and therefore would have it mended.
II. Biſhop Babington, who had been the Archbiſhop's Pupil, would not, after what
the King had faid, affirm that the Book did not intend to permit Lay-Baptiſms, but
that (however ambiguous the Words might be) the practice of the Bishops was, not to
permit them; but to inquire after them, and cenfure them. But ftill this does not
Thew that he intended to ſay fuch cenfurable, and cenfured Baptifms, were invalid.
III. Dr. Bancroft the Biſhop of London, though he ſaw, by the King's earneſt way
of ſpeaking, to which fide of the Queſtion he inclined; yet very honeſtly and frankly
defended the first Reformers; tells the King what they certainly intended, namely to
permit private Perfons to baptize; and the Reafon withal why they intended this Per-
miffion, namely, becauſe it was the Practice of the Antient Church, &c. And his
ſpeaking ſo much and earneſtly of the Neceſſity of Baptifm, is a plain Proof of his Judg-
ment in the Matter, and of his Approbation of private Perfons Baptizing; becauſe the
Practice of the Antient Church was indeed founded on their Opinion of the neceffity of
Baptiſm in order to Salvation. This Biſhop fucceeded Dr. Whitgift in the See of Canter-
bury (who died about fix Weeks after, on Feb. 29. 1603) and was principally concerned
in altering the Rubric, and putting in the Words lawful Minifter. And yet I hope I may
reaſonably prefume; that, although a lawful Minifter be the proper and only allowed,
only required, Adminiftrator of Baptifin, yet the Archbiſhop did not fo far change his
Mind, as to judge all Baptiſms not adminiftred by a lawful Minifter, to be invalid. But
of this, more by and by.
IV. I muſt leave it to the Reader to judge, how fatisfactory the King's Anſwer is to
what the Biſhop of London faid, and indeed how confiftent it is with it felf. His Ma-
jeſty declares that he maintains the Neceffity of Baptifm, and that he always thought the
Place of St. John iii. 5. to be meant thereof; but then he is pleaſed to fay, that he only
means it to be neceffary, where it can be had at the Hands of a lawful Miniſter; and
that
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
523
that no private Perfon may adminifter Baptifm, though in a Cafe of the extreameft Ne-
ceffity. By which it ſhould feem, that his Majefty put the Neceffity of Baptifm upon
the fame foot, with the Neceffity of Receiving the other Sacrament of the Lord's Sup-
per; which few People have ever judged fo neceffary to be received, as to call for it, or
take it from an improper, unauthorized, unconfecrated Hand; no not even thoſe who
believed that Infants (upon the Peril of their Souls) were to receive the Sacrament of the
Lord's-Supper. The Neceffity of Baptifm maintained by the King, is fo little urgent,
that he thinks the Infant may as well die unbaptized, as baptized by an unlawful Hand.
My Undertaking does not oblige me to difpute against the King's Opinion (which is
contrary to that of the antient Church) but to fhew what I think it was. But mark the
Inconſiſtency of it. He is utterly againſt Re-baptizing fuch as had been before bap-
tized by Laicks. But is not this to allow their Baptifm to be valid? And is it as well
for a Child to die unbaptized, as baptized by a Laick, whofe Baptifm must not be rei-
terated? If Lay-Baptiſm be invalid, how can it poffibly confift with the Belief of the
Neceffity of Baptifm, to deny the Re-baptizing Infants fo baptized? Men may make
Premiſes if they will, but Confequences make themſelves. If Baptiſm be abſolutely neceffary
from a lawful Hand, and a Lay-hand be not a lawful Hand, then Lay-Baptifm is not
the Baptiſm that is abfolutely neceffary: It must therefore be had from a Hand that is
lawful. If therefore the King will not, by any means, allow of Rebaptizing fuch as
were baptized by Lay-bands, other Folks will infer, for him, either that fuch Baptifm
is valid, or that Baptifm is not abfolutely neceffary. Thus far, however, the King is
clear in, that fuch as were baptized by Laicks, muft not be re-baptized: And there-
fore the Rubric (as far as the King is concerned in it) that makes the Adminiftrator of
Baptiſm to be a lawful Minifter only, does not neceffarily infer the Re-baptizing of
fuch as were not baptized by a lawful Minifter. I fhall, only add, in this place, that
the Minifters whom King James mentions, and whom he calls his Divines, were Pref
byterians, and of Presbyterian Ordination: And therefore their Baptifm was, according
to the modern Dialect, but Lay-Baptifm. But King James did neither think fo, nor
fay fo.
}
V. Biſhop Bilſon is intirely of the fame Opinion with Biſhop Bancroft, and fays it is
a Rule agreed on amongſt Divines, that the Minifter is not of the Effence of the Sacra-
ment, i. e. that if Baptiſm be conferred in the Matter and Form prefcribed by Christ, it
is effectual to all the Purpoſes of Baptifm, let what Chriftian foever confer, or admi-
niſter it.
To this the King replies, that though the Minifter be not of the Effence of the Sa-
crament, yet he is of the Effence of the right and lawful Miniſtry thereof, according to
Chrift's Commiffion-Go, preach and baptize, &c. i. e. if I rightly underſtand it, that
the Sacrament of Baptiſm cannot be rightly and lawfully adminiftred, without a Mi-
nifter commiffioned by Chrift to do it. Which is what his Majefty had faid before, in
Subſtance, to the Biſhop of London.
܂
No one can poffibly imagine, that theſe two learned Biſhops did not very well know,
that thoſe whom Chrift commiffions and fends to baptize, are the only Right and Law-
ful Adminiſtrators of Baptiſm; and that when fuch can be had, none elfe fhould un-
dertake to baptize. But the Queſtion now in hand was, whether Baptifm was not ſo
neceffarily to be had, that, rather than the Child ſhould die without it, it might be
adminiftred by One who was not commiffioned to do it, nor confequently had Autho-
rity given him to do it: And whether, when it was once adminiftred and conferred by
this unauthorized Hand, it was fo valid as not to be repeated or reiterated again? This
was the Queſtion. The King was for having the Child baptized by none but by a law-
ful Commiffioner: But in Cafe it had been baptized already by an uncommiffioned
Hand, he utterly difliked the Re-baptizing fuch a Child. The Biſhops (with the beſt
Antiquity)
524 The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
Antiquity) maintained, that the Neceffity of the Cafe made the Adminiſtrator of Bap-
tiſm (though in all Reſpects befides an unlawful Hand) a lawful Minifter, in this Per-
formance; and were not for Re-baptizing any one who had been ſeriouſly baptized by
any Chriſtian with Water, and in the Name of the Father, of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghoſt. And thus the Matter ſtood between them.
Theſe Remarks I thought might be for the Reader's Service, before he comes to con-
fider the Changes made in the Rubric. And though he may eafily perceive, that I am
with the Biſhops, againſt the King, in this Matter; yet I could not but think it fair,
to let him fee, that the Rubric was amended and changed according to the King's
Pleaſure, and that inſtead of that general, indetermined Expreffion of One of them, the
Words lawful Minifter were inferted, as they now ftand.
After this manner then the Rubric was changed in 1604.
1604. "First, let the lawful Minifter and them that be prefent, call upon God for
"his Grace, and fay the Lords-Prayer, if the Time will fuffer: And then the Child
being named by fome one that is preſent, the faid lawful Miniſter ſhall dip it in Wa-
ter, or pour Water upon it, faying thefe Words, N. I baptize thee in the Name of
"the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghoſt.”
cc
<c
cc
1661. [In the Review of the Common-Prayer in 1661, this Rubric was thus
changed, and now ftands, "Firſt, let the Minister of the Parish, or in his Abſence,
any other lawful Minifter that can be procured, with them that are preſent, call
upon God and ſay the Lords-Prayer, and ſo many of the Collects appointed to be
"faid before in the Form of Publick Baptifm, as the Time and preſent Exigence will
"fuffer. And then the Child being named by fome one that is preſent, the Miniſter
"ſhall pour Water upon it, ſaying theſe Words, N. I baptize thee, &c.]
<c
1604. "And let them not doubt but that the Child fo baptized, is lawfully and
fufficiently baptized, and ought not to be baptized again. But yet nevertheleſs, if
"the Child which is after this fort baptized, do afterward live, it is expedient that it
"be brought into the Church, to the Intent that if the Priest or Miniſter of the fame
"Pariſh did himſelf baptize that Child, the Congregation may be certified of the true
"Form of Baptiſm, by him privately before uſed.
1661. [The Rubric is the fame with the foregoing one, only the Words But and
Priest are left out; and after the Words before ufed is added, "In which Cafe he
"fhall fay thus,-
--I certify you, that according to the due and preſcribed Order of
"the Church, at fuch a time, and at fuch a place, before divers Witneffes, I baptized
"this Child.]
1604, and 1661. "Or if this Child were baptized by another lawful Minifter,
"that then the Miniſter of the Pariſh, where the Child was born or Chriſtned, ſhall
"examine and try, whether the Child be lawfully baptized or no.
"In which Cafe, if thoſe who bring any Child to the Church, do anſwer that the
"fame Child is already baptized; then ſhall the Miniſter examine them farther, ſaying,
1. By whom was this Child baptized?
2.
"Who was prefent when this Child was baptized?
"Becauſe ſome things eſſential to this Sacrament, may happen to be omitted through
"Fear, or Hafte, in fuch Times of Extremity; therefore I demand farther of you,
3. "With what Matter was this Child baptized ?
4.
"With what Words was this Child baptized?"
The first thing I would obferve to the Reader, upon thefe Changes of the Rubric, is,
that they were made by the King's fole Authority and Command. They had neither
Act of Parliament, nor Act of Convocation, to countenance them. This was a Stretch
of Power, but becauſe it troubled no Body, it was eaſily ſubmitted to. However,
though
1724
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
525
though the Alterations were very reaſonable and good, yet they were not legal, till made
fo by the Legiſlative Power in 1661.
But, Secondly, taking them, as they now are, to be both good and obligatory, the
Queſtion is, Whether the Church of England does hereby declare, that Lay-Baptiſm is
invalid? To which I reply,
1. The Church of England does certainly call for, and require a lawful Minifter to
be the Adminiſtrator of Baptiſm.
2. The Church of England does certainly (at leaſt ſince 1661 or 1662) by a lawful
Minifter, mean and intend a Miniſter Epifcopally ordained.
3. The Church of England neither allows, nor permits, any other than fuch as are
Epifcopally ordained, to adminifter Baptiſm.
4. The Church of England does hereby (implicitly at leaſt) forbid any other than
thoſe of Epiſcopal Ordination, to baptize.
5. The Church of England inquires after, cenfures, and punishes (where the can)
fuch as adminiſter Baptiſm, if they are not qualified lawfully to do it.
But after all, I must own, that I do not think the Church of England does, by any,
or all theſe Rubrics, intend to make or declare Lay-Baptifm to be invalid. She calls for
none but lawful Miniſters; it is true; all Churches in the World do the fame thing; it
is not to be expected they ſhould do otherwife. She does, by her Rubrics, allow or
permit no other; that is alfo certain; Can any Church, by a Rule, allow a thing ſhe
thinks irregular? Even the Rubric of King Edward's Book, was fo worded, as to leave
it difputable and doubtful whether the Church allowed or intended to allow of Lay-
Baptifm, in Cafes of Neceffity; infomuch that Archbiſhop Whitgift and Biſhop Bab-
ington contended, that it did not permit fuch Lay-Baptifm. And much lefs can it be
expected that a Rubric, that was changed on purpoſe to remove fuch doubt, fhould
permit or allow of Lay-Baptifm. But none of theſe things do either in themfelves nul-
lify and invalidate Lay-Baptiſm, or fignify that the Church does look upon it as invalid,
when once it is adminiftred or conferred by a Lay-Hand. For if it did, it would cer-
tainly and expreffly order fuch Children to be re-baptized. Why ſhould it not, fince it
maintains the Neceffity of Baptifm, where it can be had? The Church of Rome, in all
the Rubrics of its Form of Baptifm, fuppofes the Adminiſtrator of that Sacrament to be
always a proper and an authorized Perfon: It fays in every Place, that the Prieſt is to
do fo and fo, and the Priest is to fay thus and thus; and in none of its publick Forms
does it allow or permit any other to officiate: And yet we know the Doctrine of that
Church allows and approves of Lay-Baptifm. We know that, in Fact, when a Prieft
is not preſent, that it allows a Deacon to baptize; when a Deacon is not to be had, it
allows a Subdeacon (which is as much in holy Orders as a Waterman upon the Thames)
to baptize; when a Subdeacon is not prefent, it allows a Lay-Man to baptize; when
a Lay-Man is not there, it allows a Woman to do it; nay, if a Lay-Man be utterly ig-
norant of the Form, or Words, it allows the Midwife before him, to baptize the Child.
This we know is the Doctrine, this we know is the Practice of the Church of Rome
and yet in all the Rubrics of its Office of Baptifm, it only mentions the Priest, the Sacer-
dos; and it tells us in none of them, that it permits or allows of any other but a Sa-
cerdos. Who can expect it ſhould? it is not a proper Place for it. And therefore I do
not by any Means think it a conclufive way of arguing, to fay the Church of England
has, by its Rubrics, invalidated Lay-Baptifm, becauſe, by its Rubrics, it requires only
a lawful Minifter to baptize, and forbids all others to baptize, and blames, and con-
demns, and puniſhes fuch as baptize, who are not lawfully qualified to do fo. This
only fignifies that ſhe would not have it done; but it does not fignify, that it is not
effectually done, when it is actually done. For if it did, fhe muft order it to be done
again, if the judged it abfolutely neceffary to be done at all. I do not pretend to enter
3РР
';
into
26
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
<c
into the Merits of the Caufe, nor to diſpute whether Lay-Baptifm be valid, or invalid;
nor whether it be lawful or unlawful to re-baptize ſuch as have been baptized by Lay-
Hands. This is not at prefent my Undertaking: But my Aim is to fhew, that the
Church of England has not, by theſe Rubrics, declared Lay-Baptifm to be invalid; or,
(in other Words) that a lawful Miniſter is fo effential to the Validity of Baptiſm, that
Baptiſm adminiftred by a Lay-Hand is null and void. Nay, I am going about to try to
fhew the Reader, that the Church of England hath, in theſe very Rubrics, declared her
Judgment to be, That (in the Words of Biſhop Bilfon) the Minifter is not of the Eſſence
of the Sacrament.
The Way I take to do it is this.
When the Child that was privately baptized, is brought to the Church, in order to
have the reſt of the Ceremonies and Service performed and compleated, although it
were baptized before, by a lawful Minifter, yet is the Minifter of the Pariſh, for his
own Satisfaction and that of the Congregation, to aſk theſe following Queſtions.
1. By whom was this Child baptized?
2. Who was prefent when this Child was baptized?
The Miniſter of the Pariſh is to know who was the Adminiftrator, and who were
Witneſſes to the Baptiſm adminiſtred: He could not otherwiſe be affured the Child had
been baptized. Now becauſe theſe Queſtions are aſked, in this place, as well as the
two following ones, concerning the Matter and Form, it is concluded by fome, that
the Church of England looks upon the lawful Minifter to be as eſſential to Baptifm, as
the Water and the Words. But if fhe does, how comes fhe to place fo notable and dif
tinguiſhing a Clauſe, betwixt the two firft and the two laft Queſtions, as this is;
"Becauſe ſome things eſſential to this Sacrament may happen to be omitted through
"Fear, or Hafte, in fuch Times of Extremity, therefore I demand farther of you,
"With what Matter was this Child baptized ?
3.
4.
"With what Words was this Child baptized ?'
Can any one read this Clauſe, thus inferted in the Middle of (and as if it were to part)
theſe Queſtions, and believe the Church of England thought the Adminiſtrator and the
Witneſſes as effential as the Matter and the Words, to the conferring Baptifm? Had the
Church believed a lawful Miniſter to be as effential to the making a Baptifm valid, as
fhe did the Matter and the Words-fhe muft and fhe would have faid thus
"Becauſe ſome things eſſential to this Sacrament may have been neglected or omitted,
through Hafte, or Fear, I muſt aſk you By whom was this Child baptized, with
"what Matter, and what Words was it baptized," &c. i. e. was it baptized by a law-
ful Minifter, and with the Matter and Words preſcribed by Chrift? But, to aſk firſt-
by whom? And ſecondly -before whom? And then to fufpect ſomething effential to
Baptiſm might have been omitted, and to mention thofe Effentials in the third and
fourth Queſtions, is, in my Opinion, to intimate that the two firft Queſtions did not
contain things Effential to Baptifm. And that it may appear what Reafon I have to
think fo, I defire the Reader to confider the following Rubric, which is the laſt in the
Office of private Baptifm
"But if they which bring the Infant to the Church, do make fuch uncertain An-
*fwers to the Prieſt's Queſtions, as that it cannot appear that the Child was baptized
"with Water, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghoft,
(which are effential Parts of Baptiſm) then let the Prieft baptize it, in the Form be-
"fore appointed for publick Baptiſm of Infants, faving that at the dipping the Child in
"the Font, he fhall ufe this Form of Words- -If thou art not already baptized, N.
"I baptize thee, &c."
Why does not the Church fay here, if it cannot appear that the Child was baptized
by a lawful Minifter, let it be conditionally baptized? Why does not the Church here
tell
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
527
tell us (and could there be a fitter place to tell us?) that a lawful Miniſter is eſſential to
a valid Baptifm? When it is reckoning up the effential Parts of Baptiſm, could it forget
the Miniſter, if that were alſo an effential Part? I am perfwaded it neither could, nor
would. And I therefore think I have proved, that, in the Judgment of the Church of
England (what the Biſhop of Winchester affirmed was a Rule agreed on amongſt Di-
vines) The Minifter is not of the Effence of the Sacrament of Baptifm.
And thus I have gone through all the Offices of Baptiſm, and the Rubrics that relate
to this Matter; and having conſidered them with all the Care and Impartiality I could,
I do not find that the Church of England hath, in any of them, declared Lay-Baptifm
to be invalid, and yet they are the Places, and the publick Acts, where one would look
for and expect fuch Declaration, the moſt properly.
ter.
II. PROOF. The ſecond Proof of the general Propofition, is fetched from the Si-
lence of the Church of England in this Particular. She hath in no publick Act of hers,
ordered fuch as have been baptized by Lay-Hands, to be re-baptized by a lawful Mini-
fter. I have already had Occafion to make this Obſervation in another place before.
But it is, indeed, a clear and diftinct Proof of the Judgment of the Church in this Mat-
Had fhe been of the Mind, that Lay-Baptifm was null, invalid, and ineffectual,
her Care and Tenderneſs for all the People of this Kingdom, would have obliged her to
command the Re-baptizing by lawful Minifters, all fuch as had not had a valid Bap-
tiſm, if they could be brought to it. But ſhe has no where intimated, no where fug-
geſted, much leſs expreffed, or plainly fignified, any fuch Purpoſe, or Deſign to have
it done. If it be faid, that from 1604 to 1661, the Church had either no Occafion, or
Opportunity, of declaring her Judgment in this Point; yet all the World will acknow-
ledge fhe had both, in a great degree, at the Time of the Restoration of King Charles II.
when the might very reaſonably fuppofe there were, in England and Wales, no fewer
than two or three hundred thouſand Souls, baptized by fuch hands as are now called
Lay-Hands, and were then eſteemed and held unlawful and un-authorized Hands.
May we not fairly enough compute, that Six Parts in Ten, of all the People of the
Kingdom, who were fourteen or fifteen Years Old, when King Charles II returned to
his Throne, had been baptized by fuch as the Church will not acknowledge for lawful
Minifters? And what was there done with all this Number? What Care was taken by
the Church to fecure their Chriſtianity? If the Church accounted them already to be
validly baptized, the Queſtion is given up. If the accounted their Baptiſm to be in-
valid, what Provifion was there made, to have them re-baptized? I anfwer, None at
all. And I ſay ſo with the greater Affurance, becauſe I ſee that Dr. Hicks, though
very able, and keenly edged to this purpoſe, hath not been fo lucky as to produce one
good Reaſon to make us believe, that the Office of Miniftration of Baptifm to fuch as are
of riper Years, was intended for ſuch as had been invalidly baptized by unlawful Mini-
fters; although he thinks he has Reaſon to ſay it was. He does not, I own, affirm it,
in any peremptory, magifterial Manner: But becauſe he fays it at all, and becauſe his
Authority (even in Matters of Conjecture) is much greater with thoſe for whoſe fake I
take theſe Pains, than I could wish it were, in Matters where I think he is much mif-
taken; becauſe of this, I fay, it lies upon me, to confider what he has faid upon this
Point.
Thus then the Doctor fpeaks in his Letter to the Author of the Invalidity of Lay-
Baptiſm, p. 21.
"You have well obferved, That our Church hath provided no Office of Confirmation
" for thoſe who receive Baptifm from Lay-Baptizers. And indeed it would have been
ſtrange, that ſhe which allows of no Baptifm but by a lawful Minifter, fhould have
provided fuch an Office to confirm or ratify the Baptifm of thoſe, who (truly fpeak-
ing) were sprinkled or washed, but not baptized. But I think you might, with Rea-
[C
<c
"<fon
528
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
<c
ΚΕ
«fon enough, have farther obſerved, that he hath provided an Office for their true.
"and lawful Baptiſm. I mean, Sir, The Miniftration of Baptifm to fuch as are of
riper Years. This new Office was made preſently after the Reſtoration, and is part
"of the Liturgy that now is confirmed by Act of Parliament: And I do not think it
was intended only for Heathens, Jews, and Mahometans, who ſhould be converted
to Chriſtianity, or for fuch converted Hereticks among us as reject Baptifm; but alſo
"for thoſe who had been invalidly baptized; of which there were great Numbers at
"the Time of the Reſtoration, and now alaſs, are many more.
Ifubmit this Obfer-
"vation to your Thoughts, and the Confideration of all who ſhall read it: And if
Opinion, as to this Office, is wrong, I hope my Error is pardonable, becauſe it is not
"hurtful to the Church, nor cafts the leaſt Diſhonour upon her learned and pious Bi-
ſhops and Prieſts her Repreſentatives, who made that Office, which before was
"wanting."
cc
The Remarks I would make upon this Paffage, are theſe :
my
1. I defire the Doctor and his Friend, to make a little Inquiry into the Matter of
Fact, and to examine, whether the Biſhops after the Restoration in 1660, did not go
about their ſeveral Diocefes, and confirm many Thouſands of fuch as had been baptized
by unlawful Minifters, and not by the Form in the Common-Prayer? And whether
they made, or tried to make, any Diſtinction between fuch young People, as had been
baptized by Orthodox Minifters, and fuch as had been baptized by Men who were not
Epifcopally ordained? Did they declare or intimate that ſuch as had been baptized by
the latter, were not baptized lawfully, and therefore could not be confirmed? Did
they reject any one on this account? Or did they uſe any other Office of Confirmation,
than the preſent one, to confirm all that were brought to them? I verily think, that
upon Enquiry, it will be found, that not a fingle Biſhop in the Kingdom, did then re-
fuſe to confirm any one, upon Pretence of their not being lawfully baptized, by a law-
ful Minifter. Let the Doctor and his Friend then confider, whether this Practice of
the Biſhops at that Time, be not an implicit Declaration of their Judgment, Firſt, That
there was no need of a new Office of Confirmation, for fuch as had been baptized by
Lay-Baptizers; and Secondly, That fuch as they confirmed, were held by them to have
been validly baptized. If a Biſhop ſhall confirm a Thouſand People, who (he knows, or
might know) had been baptized by one that was not Epiſcopally ordained, with the
fame Words and Ceremonies, with which he confirms another Thouſand People who
had been baptized by an Epiſcopal Minifter; will not every one conclude, that this Bi-
ſhop thinks the Baptiſm of both theſe Thouſands to be equally and alike valid, though
neither regularly, nor orderly, nor lawfully at firſt conferred? Now whether this was
not the Practice of the Biſhops at that Time, I leave to the Doctor and his Followers to
inquire, remember, and confider.
2. I agree with the Doctor, that it would have been a ſtrange thing for the Convoca-
tion (had they been of his Mind) to have made a new Office of Confirmation for ſuch
as had been baptized by Lay-Baptizers. It had certainly been very abfurd to confirm ſuch
People, as they thought had never been validly baptized. But is not the Conclufion as
good on the other hand, that ſuch as were confirmed by the old Office, muft needs be
thought to be validly baptized, by fuch as confirmed them? A. B. was baptized in
1650, by a Miniſter of the Presbyterian Ordination; and A. B. was confirmed in
1662, by a Biſhop of the Church of England, according to the Office appointed for that
Purpoſe. Will not moſt People conclude, from hence, that the Biſhop held the Bap-
tiſm of A. B. to be valid? This I think is as plain, as if it were deduced from Defini-
tions, Axioms, and Propofitions, &c.
3. As to what the Doctor fays, That he thinks the Church hath provided an Office
for the true and lawful Baptiſm of fuch as had been invalidly baptized, it is very much
to
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
529
to the Purpoſe, if he can make it good. It would utterly fubvert the Objection that is
in every body's Mouth, viz. That had the Church held the Baptiſm of unlawful Mi-
nifters (i. e. fuch as were not ordained by Epifcopal Hands, and are confequently held
as mere Laicks) to be null and invalid, fhe muft and would have ordered all fuch Peo-
ple to be re-baptized by lawful Minifters. To this the Doctor fays, that the Church
hath adjudged all fuch Baptifms to be invalid, and that fuch People were only fprinkled
or washed, and not baptized, and hath provided a new Office for the true and lawful
Baptiſm of them, namely,—the Miniftration of Baptiſm for fuch as are of riper Years.
This Office he fays was intended for ſuch as had been invalidly baptized, as well as for
Heathens, Jews, Turks and Hereticks. When I first read this Paffage, I could not for-
bear repeating to my felf, How hard a Saying is this? And it was not without Con-
cern, that I remembred it came from a Man, now venerable for his Years, as well as
for his Virtue, and his Learning. But with what Reaſons does he fupport this his Affer-
tion, or Conjecture? Thofe he brings in this Place (as the Reader may fee) are, that
this Office was made new after the Reſtoration; and that, at that Time, there were
many People who had been invalidly baptized. This Office was indeed new; but is it
not rather to be wondred at, that there was not, long before this Time, a Form of
Baptiſm for adult Perfons, in a Church ſo well eſtabliſhed as ours was? My Guefs is,
that in the Days of Edward VI. Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth, and King James,
and the greateſt part of King Charles I. there were very few People in England, that
expreffed any diſlike of Infant-Baptifm; the Doctrine and the Cuſtom was all in its Fa-
vour, and therefore there was no very viſible need of a Form for baptizing People of
riper Years. But in the Times of Civil War, and Anarchy, theſe wicked Tares grew
up in great Plenty; and this part of Anabaptiſm, as well as the other of Re-baptizing,
prevailed very much; fo that betwixt the Years 1640 and 1660, there were a great
many young People that had never been baptized at all; enow to juſtify the Wiſdom
of the Church in compofing a new Form, that might ferve for them, as well as all
others whom the Doctor reckons up. This is but my Conjecture; but I dare fay, the
impartial Reader will incline to think, that the Convocation, which compofed this new
Office, had full as much Regard to theſe People, as to the invalidly baptized. The great
Number of theſe laft, is the other Reafon which induces him to think that this new
Office was intended for them. But, in my Opinion, this is taking the thing in Que-
ſtion, for granted. He fuppofes the Church to account all fuch as had been baptized by
unlawful Miniſters, to have been invalidly baptized: But has the Church made any
fuch Declaration? I have been trying to prove (and I hope I have proved) that he has
not. The Fundamental Miſtake, I think, is this, that becauſe the Church requires a
lawful Miniſter to be the Adminiſtrator of Baptiſm, in her Rubrics; therefore ſhe ac-
counts all Baptiſms not conferred by a lawful Miniſter, to be null and invalid. This
is by no means a neceffary Conſequence: She has no where faid fo; and her Practice
is clearly otherwiſe, as I have fhewn, by the Biſhops Confirmations in 1661 and fince,
and by her ordering none of them to be re-baptized. Which I ſtill infiſt on, to be a
good Proof, and which is not at all weakned by theſe two Reaſons of the Doctor, of
which I leave the Reader to judge. But it may be he is better provided, two or three
Pages off; for there he refumes the fame Argument, whether out of Confidence or
Diſtruſt of what was faid before, I will not determine; but thus he ſays, p. 24.
Sir, From theſe Obfervations" [viz. that no new Office of Confirmation was pro-
vided for fuch as were baptized by Laicks; that the Office of Baptiſm for fuch as were
of riper Years, was intended for fuch as had been invalidly baptized; that Baptifm was
abfolutely neceffary to Salvation, was an erroneous, though innocent and pious, Opi
nion; and that fuch happy Alterations had been made in the Liturgy]." From theſe
Obfervations, Sir, I think I may conclude, First, That the abfolute indifpenfable Ne-
3 Qg
ceffity
"
<<
530
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
re
ceffity of Baptiſm is not the Doctrine of the Church of England. Secondly, That fle
approves of no Baptifm, or thinks no Baptifm duly and validly adminiftred, but
"what is miniftred by duly authorized and lawful Minifters, and confequently that
"fhe rejects all Lay-Baptifm. Thirdly, That fhe cannot count thofe duly authorized
" and lawful Minifters, who take upon them the Miniftry, within the Pale of her Ju-
"rifdiction, in Contempt of, and Oppofition to, her Epifcopat, and Epifcopal Miflion,
or Power of Ordination; and by Confequence, that the must look upon Baptiſm ad-
"miniftred by fuch Miniſters, as null and void, from the Beginning.
<<
"From theſe Conclufions, and the Confequences iffuing from them, I have farther
"Reaſon to think, that the Office of the Miniſtration of Baptifm to fuch as are of riper
Years, was intended for Perfons invalidly baptized by fuch unlawful Miniſters among
us, as were never duly authorized, as well as for converted Heathens, Jews, Maho-
metans, and fuch modern Manicheans, and Seleucians among us, as held it unlawful
"to baptize with the Baptifm of the Church."
cc
cc
As I take this Paffage to be but a Repetition of what he had faid before, a little en-
larged; fo I acquaint my Reader, that I ſhall be conſtrained to repeat, in my Reply, a
great deal of what I have faid before.
1. Whether it be an erroneous Opinion, That Baptiſm is abfolutely neceffary to Sal-
vation, is not proved by him, but affirmed. Whether the indifpenfable Neceflity of
Baptiſm be the Doctrine of the Church of England, or be not, I am not able to deter-
mine, I acknowledge, with full Certainty. He who fays that fuch an Opinion is errone-
ous, will fay, among us, that it is not the Opinion of the Church of England: And
I, who incline to think it is the Opinion of the Church of England, do ſo far think it
not to be erroneous. And becauſe I am perfwaded that the does not hold Lay-Baptiſm
to be invalid, I am alſo fo far perfwaded that ſhe holds Baptifm to be indifpenfably
neceffary, where it can poffibly be had: She will have Lay-Baptifm, in the want of a
lawful Miniſter, rather than none at all.
2. I muſt repeat again, that it does not neceffarily follow, that the Church rejects all
Lay-Baptifm, or accounts all Baptifm conferred by Men not Epiſcopally ordained, to
be null and invalid, becaufe fhe does in all her Offices and Rubrics call for and require
a lawful Minifter to confer Baptifm. This, the Doctor knows, is not a certain Confe-
quence in the Church of Rome, which in her Office of Baptifin requires a Prieft,
a Sacerdos only, (See before, p. 525.) to adminifter that Sacrament. And I would aſk.
him, if he thinks that the Church of England, when the changed her Rubric in 1603,
from thoſe indefinite Words Let one of them into a Lawful Minifter,
them————into—
whether ſhe did thereby intend to invalidate and utterly annul all Baptifms that had
been before conferred by Lay-Hands? or whether the baptized again, by a lawful Mi-
nifter, fuch Lay-baptized? What if I ſhould acquaint the Doctor, that in all the Of
fices of Baptifm, whether Publick or Private, that of Infants, or that of adult and
grown-up Perfons, there is not fo much as the Word Deacon to be found in them
throughout? And that both Minifter and Curate, which are uſed in them, do fignify
a Prieft, and nothing but a Prieft. This I affure him, is Matter of Fact, and exactly
true, as he will find upon Examination. Will he give me leave to conclude from hence,
that a Deacon may not baptize a Child, becauſe he is not mentioned or required in
of theſe Offices, or their Rubrics? He will, it may be, fay, that a Deacon, when
he is ordained, has it in his Commiffion, to baptize Infants in the Abfence of the Priest.
I know he has; but let him go to that Office, and fee if the Adminiftrator of Baptifm
is not always to be a Prieft, or Minifter, or Curate, which, I fay is but one and the
ſame Man, viz. a Prieſt: And let him reconcile the Rubric which calls for a Prieſt,
with his Commiffion of a Deacon, which allows him to baptize in the Prieft's Abfence.
I would not be thought to make this a parallel Cafe, it is not exactly fo; but I would
any
make
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diſſenters Baptifm.
531
make this Uſe of it, that to infift too rigidly upon the Letter of the Rubric, when the
customary Practice of the Church allows of Relaxations and Abatements, is to be over-
wife, or over-fcrupulous. The Church, in all her Rules, and Orders, muft call for
and require, what ſhe thinks beft, and would moft gladly have; but whilſt ſhe is made
up of frail, imperfect Creatures, and ſubject to numberless Accidents, ſhe muſt be con-
tent with the beſt Performances the can obtain. And, if fhe can fecure the Effentials
of Religion, will bear with the Want of many convenient and expedient Circumftan-
tials, till it pleaſes God to make her eafy with them alfo. The Church, in her Rubric,
calls for a lawful Miniſter to baptize the Child; and calls for no body elfe; and would
gladly have no body elſe; but, in the Interim, another Perfon comes, called only by
Neceflity, or called perhaps through Fondneſs of the Parent, or through miſtaken Judg-
ment, but is by no means the Perfon called for and intended by the Church: However,
he performs the Office, and baptizes the Child, in the fame Element of Water, and
with the fame Words of Chrift, who was the bleffed Inftitutor of this Sacrament. The
Church is offended at this Proceeding; cenfures, blames, condemns, and puniſhes, the
Intruder and Ufurper on the Holy Office (unleſs it were in a Caſe of pure Neceffity.)
But after all, ſhe fees the Sacrament eſſentially adminiftred, the Matter and the Words
of Chriſt were ſeriouſly uſed, and though the Voice and Hand that adminiftred, were
both unhallowed, yet will fhe not invalidate, or difannull this Work. The Doctor very
well knows this was the way of reafoning in the Antient Church; and (becauſe I have
proved it) I am bold to fay it is the way of reaſoning in the prefent Church of England.
And as ſhe never has, ſo I believe ſhe never will depart from that good Standard, in this
Particular. The Laws, with very good Reafon, have appropriated the Coinage of all
the Money current in the Kingdom, to the Prince; and they have made it highly cri-
minal for any Man elfe but fuch as are fubftituted and appointed by proper Officers,
under the Regulation of the Crown, to have any Hand in the work of Coining: And
the numberless Miſchiefs that would enfue upon permitting every private Man to coin,
if he could, do very well juſtify the reſtraining it to ſuch and fuch elected and appoin-
ted Perfons, and puniſhing, even with Death, all that tranfgrefs this Law, although the
Pieces they coin fhould be of equal Weight and Finenefs, with the Standard, and
though the Image, Arms, and Superſcription, ſhould be as right and good, and to all
appearance the ſame with thoſe that were coined in the Tower-Mint, by the Queen's
proper Officers. But yet thefe Pieces would be current ftill, the Prince would not re-
coin them, nor would the People refuſe them: becauſe of their intrinfic Worth, and
their external Form. The Hand that made them might be deſervedly cut off, but the
Piece is effentially good; the Weight and Fineness, Head and Arms demonftrate it to
be fo.
3. Although the Church ſhould not count the Diſſenting Miniſters, to be duly autho-
rized and lawful Minifters, yet fhe need not, of Confequence, look upon Baptifm ad-
miniſtred by them, as null and void from the Beginning. This is begging the thing in
Queſtion, and not proving it. The Church may (though I do not take upon me to ſay
fhe does, but fuppofing fhe may) count all the other Parts of the Miniſtration that are
performed by Diffenting Miniſters, to be null and void; yet it would not neceffarily fol-
low, that ſhe ſhould therefore count their Baptifms to be null and void. This is the
fingle thing contended for. Abundance of People, I doubt, are eafily led to think their
Baptiſms to be invalid, becauſe they think if their Baptiſms be allowed, the reſt of their
Miniſterial Performances muſt be alfo valid. But this was held to be no Confequence
by the Antient Church of Chrift; nor is it a Confequence held by the Church of Eng-
land. It is Baptifm alone that is not invalidated and made null, though conferred by an
unlawful Miniſter, or a meer Lay-Chriftian. And therefore a hundred Paffages cited
either from the Antient or Modern Writers, to nullify and invalidate all the Miniſterial
Performances
532 The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
Performances of unconfecrated and unlawful Minifters, are infignificant to the Point in
Hand, unleſs they fay expreffly that Baptifm adminiftred by fuch is invalid; which I
dare fay they will never be able to produce, provided they mean Baptiſm adminiftred
in the Matter and Form prefcribed by Chrift.
Upon the whole Matter therefore, I cannot fee, that the Obfervations the Doctor
has made are right, nor the Conclufions he has drawn from them to be juſt and good;
nor confequently can I find he has any manner of Reafon to think, that the Office of
the Miniftration of Baptifm to fuch as be of riper Years, was made and intended for
fuch as had been invalidly baptized, by unlawful Minifters. And therefore I am ftill
of the Opinion, that the Church of England hath by no Act of hers, made or declared
Lay-Baptifm to be invalid.
III. PROOP. And I will add but one Argument more, in Proof of this Pofition,
and that ſhall be alfo fetched from the Silence of the Preachers and the Writers of the
Church of England in this Point, from the Year 1660 till the Year 1700.
Did any of my Lords the Biſhops in their primary Vifitations, after the Restoration
of King Charles II (the propereft Seafon certainly) give it in Charge to their Clergy, to
inform their People, either by Preaching, or Writing, that fuch as had been baptized
by unlawful Nonconforming, unepifcopal, Minifters, were not Chriftians, having not
been validly Baptized, and therefore that all fuch muſt be baptized anew? Does any one
remember fuch Inftructions given about that Time, or fince? Did the Writers of Con-
troverſy who were many, and for many Years, among other Points debated, did they,
I fay, infiſt on the Invalidity of the Diffenters Baptiſm, in any of their Books? Did
the London -or the Country Minifters, who were the moſt zealous to bring their
People to Conformity, and a good liking of the Church-way, and to reſcue them from
Schiſm and Separation, and the Miſchiefs of it, did they begin with this, that they
muſt conſider they were not Chriftians, and wanted true Baptifm? Does any one call to
Mind, that any fuch Arguments as theſe were uſed to perfwade their Flocks to enter
into Chrift's Fold, by the Gate of Baptifm? Did they pretend to convert the Diffenters
to Chriftianity? Or to leave the Separation, and come over to the Church? Is it not a
very modern Thing, is it not of Yeſterday, to hear it ſaid, that the Diſſenters are not
Chriftians, having been baptized with Water, in the Name of the Father, Son, and
Holy Ghoſt? And yet, will any reaſonable Man tell us, that it was not the Duty of
the Biſhops to have given theſe things in Charge to the Clergy? Will any one fay, it
was not the proper Buſineſs of the controverfial Writers, to have infifted mainly on this
great Point? Or could the Pariſh-Prieſts have done any thing better, more pleafing to
God, or more uſeful to the People, than to have told them, they must become Chri-
ftians and be Baptized? Was there an utter Neglect of this great Duty among all forts
of Parties concerned, at a Time when nothing could have been more proper? Who
can eaſily come into this Belief? If this Silence of the Ecclefiaftical Governours, of the
Pariſh-Prieſts, and of the Writers of Controverfy, be not a Proof of the Church of
England's Judgment in the Matter; I muft defpair of knowing what can be one.
And thus I have gone through the little Work I undertook: Which was not to prove
the Validity of Lay-Baptiſm; nor to prove the Baptiſm of Diffenters to be good and
valid, in Oppoſition to the Author of Lay-Baptifm's Invalidity, or in Oppofition to
Dr. Hicks his Abetter and Encourager; this was not my Defign; but to make good my
Pofition- That the Church of England hath by no publick Act of hers, made or de-
clared Lay-Baptifm to be invalid. Both thofe Writers had affirmed that the Church of
England accounts Lay-Baptifm, and the Baptiſm of Diffenting Miniſters, to be invalid;
as far as they affirm that, I have concerned my felf with them, and no farther. But
becauſe I could not difprove their Allegations in this particular, without diſcovering my
Opinion in the general, of the Matter in difpute, every Body will fee I am of a very
different
1
APPENDIX.
533
different Judgment from thoſe Writers. The only thing I would leave with the Reader,
is to confider, whether I have not made good my Pofition, from the particular Proofs I
have brought; from the Confideration of the Offices of Baptifm and their Rubrics; from
the Confirmations of the Biſhops after 1660; and from the Silence of the Clergy, and
Church-Writers, for upwards of Forty Years, in a Matter wherein every Body will fee.
they were highly concerned to have ſpoken. And if the Church of England has not de-
clared Lay-Baptifm, and Diffenters Baptifm, to be invalid, I cannot chooſe but think
it a very great Prefumption for any private Member of her Communion, to do fo. As
for what the Author of the aforefaid Book, fays of the 23d and 26th Articles; he may
know that thoſe Articles were made in 1552 (as well as 1562) by many of the fame
People who made the Office of Baptifm and Rubrics in 1548 and 1552: And that
therefore the Allowance of Lay-Baptiſm, was not thought to claſh, or be inconfiftent
with thoſe Articles. But he may alſo know, that the Church, by requiring a lawful
Miniſter to Baptifm, does not, by neceflary Confequence, invalidate a Baptifm con-
ferred by an unlawful Minifter. The Reader will, I hope, be content, that, in Af-
firmance of my Pofition, I prefent him with fome Citations, out of Mr. Hooker, and
Mr. Thorndike; the one before, the other fince the Change made in 1603.
APPENDIX.
TH
•
HE famous Thomas Cartwright, Lib. 1. Pag. 143. faith "that private Bap-
"tifm firſt roſe upon a falfe Interpretation of St. Joh. iii. 5. Unless a Man be
"born again of Water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of
"Heaven. Where certain do interpret the Word Water, for the material and ele-
"mental Water; whenas our Saviour Chrift taketh Water there, by a borrowed Speech,
"for the Spirit of God, the Effect whereof it fhaddoweth out."
CC
To this, Mr. Richard Hooker, Lib. v. §. 59. replies-
"To hide the general confent of Antiquity, agreeing in the literal Interpretation,
they cunningly affirm, that certain have taken thefe Words, as meant of material
"Water; when they know that of all the Antients there is not one to be named, that
ever did otherwiſe either expound or alledge that Place, than as implying external
Baptifm.
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Tho. Cartwright, Lib. I. 146. The Orders which God hath fet are, that it
"ſhould be done in the Congregation, and by the Minifter. And I will further fay,.
"that although the Infants which dye without Baptiſm, fhould be affuredly damned
(which is moſt falfe) yet ought not the Orders, which God hath fet in his Church,
"be broken after this fort."
66
cc
To this Mr. Hooker replies at large, Lib. V. §. 61. but I will only fet down a few Lines.
"To acknowledge Chrift's Inftitution to be the ground of both Sacraments, I fup-
pofe no Chriſtian Man will refufe: For it giveth them their very Nature, it ap-
pointeth the Matter whereof they confift; the Form of their Adminiſtration it
teacheth; and it bleffeth them with that Grace, whereby they are to us, both Pledges
" and Inſtruments of Life. Nevertheleſs, ſeeing Chriſt's Inſtitution containetḥ, beſides
"that which maketh compleat the Effence or Nature, other things that are only Parts,
"as it were, of the Furniture of Sacraments; the difference between theſe two muſt
“unfold that which the general Terms of indefinite Speech would confound." [I affure
the Reader, that Mr. Hooker was of Biſhop Bilſon's Mind, that the Minister was not of
the Effence of Baptifm.]
3 R r
Rr
T. C.
534
APPENDIX.
T. C. Lib. I. Page 144.
"On this Point, whether be be a Minifter or no, dependeth not only the Dignity,
* but the Being of the Sacrament. So that I take the Baptiſm of Women, to be no
more the Holy Sacrament of Baptiſm, than any other daily or ordinary washing of
"the Child.”
*c
Mr. Hooker, Lib. V. §. 62. which I defire the Reader to look carefully over, if he
has the Book by him. I only tranſcribe fome Parts of it, for the fake of thoſe who
have not.
And little could any body have thought, that the Arguments which Thomas
Cartwright, a principal Puritan Minifter, produced above an hundred Years ago, againſt
the Doctrine, Practice, Service, and Minifters of the Church of England, in the Point
of Lay-Baptifm; fhould now be again produced by Doctor Hs, and ſeveral Church
of England Miniſters, againſt the Diſſenting Minifters, to prove their Baptiſm to bẹ
Lay-Baptifm, and altogether invalid, null, and void; ſprinkling, and waſhing, if you
will, but not baptizing any one. And that, at the fame time, the Arguments of
Mr. Hooker ſhould be produced to prove their Baptifms valid. But we have lived to ſee
ftrange Things: And if theſe Humours may go on, and be received, encouraged, and
applauded by the young Students and Divines, we may ſee ſtranger yet. But God for-
bid! Let this Digreffion be forgiven, and I
(c
[6
Lib. V. §. 62. Page 231.
go on.
"The Reaſon whereupon they ground their Opinion, viz. That Baptiſm by Wo-
men is no more a Sacrament, than any other ordinary waſhing or bathing a Man's
Body, is fuch, as making Baptifm by Women void, becauſe Women are no Mi-
"nifters in the Church of God, muft needs generally Annihilate the Baptiſm of all un-
to whom their Conceit fhall apply this Exception, whether it be in regard of Sex, of
Quality, of Infufficiency, or whatſoever. For if want of calling do fruftrate Baptiſm,
they that baptize without calling, do nothing, be they Women or Men."
(c
<c
6x
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tc
(C
CC
Page 232.
"To Womens Baptiſm in Private, by Occaſion of urgent Neceffity, the
"Reaſons that only concern ordinary Baptiſms in Publick, are no juft prejudice: Nei-
"ther can we by force thereof difprove the Practice of thofe Churches, which (neceffity
requiring) allow Baptiſm in private, to be adminiftred by Women. We may not
" from Laws that prohibit any thing with Reſtraint, conclude abfolute and unlimited
"Prohibitions: Although we deny not but they which utterly forbid fuch Baptiſm,
may have, perhaps, wherewith to juſtify their Orders againſt it. For, even things
"lawful are well prohibited, when there is fear leaſt they make the way to unlawful
more eaſy. And, it may be, the liberty of Baptiſm at fuch Times by Women, doth
"fometimes embolden the raſher fort to do it, where no fuch neceffity is. But whe-
"ther of Permiffion, befides Law, or in prefumption against Law, they do it, is it
thereby altogether fruſtrate, void, and as though it were never given? They which
"have not at the firſt, their right Baptiſm, muſt of neceffity be re-baptized, becauſe
"the Law of Chrift tyeth all Men to receive Baptifm. Iteration of Baptifm once given,
"hath been always thought a manifeſt Contempt of that antient apoftolick Aphorifm,
« One Lord, one Faith, one Baptifm: Baptiſm not only One, in as much as it hath every
"where the ſame Subſtance, and offereth unto all Men the fame Grace; but One alſo,
"for that it ought not to be received by any one Man above once." [This Argument
he purſues in a convincing Manner; and goes on to give the Hiftory of Re-baptizing
maintained by St. Cyprian and the African Church, whom he affirms to have been
miſtaken: And makes this wife Remark upon him-
People's Trial, harder and heavier by fo much to bear,
greater that miſperfwadeth them—And after a great deal faid on this Head, worthy,
every Line of it, to be thoughtfully peruſed by our new-fangled Minifters, he ſays]
"Since the Church of God hath always hitherto conftantly maintained, that to re-
That the Teacher's Error is the
as he is in Worth and Regard
CC
baptize
APPENDIX.
535
CC
<<
<<
<<
CC
CC
ત
baptize them which are known to have received true Baptifm, is unlawful: That if
Baptifm be ſeriouſly adminiftred, in the fame Element, and with the fame Form of
Words, which Chrift's Inſtitution teacheth, there is no other Defect in the World
"that can make it fruftrate, or deprive it of the Nature of a true Sacrament: And
laftly, That Baptifin is only then to be re-adminiftred, when the firft Delivery
"thereof is void, in regard of the forealledged Imperfections, and no other: Shall we
now in the Cafe of Baptifin, which having both for Matter and Form, the Subftance
"of Christ's Inftitution, is by a fort of Men voided for the only Defect of Ecclefiaftical
Authority in the Miniſter; fhall we, I ſay, think it enough, that the Puritans blow
away the Force thereof, with the bare Strength of their very Breath, by faying-
"We take fuch Baptifms to be no more the Sacrament of Baptifm, than any other ordinary
Bathing to be a Sacrament? It behoveth generally all Sorts of Men, to keep them-
"felves within the Limits of their own Vocation. And feeing God, from whom Mens
«feveral Degrees and Præeminencies do proceed, hath appointed them in his Church,
"at whoſe Hands His Pleaſure is, that we ſhould receive both Baptifin, and all other
"publick medicinal Helps of Soul, perhaps thereby the more to fettle our Hearts in the
"Love of our Ghoftly Superiours; they have fmall Caufe to hope, that with Him their
voluntary Services will be accepted, who thruſt themſelves into Functions, either above
"their Capacity, or befides their Place, and overboldly intermeddle with Duties, where-
"of no Charge was ever given them: They that in any thing exceed the Compafs of
"their own Order, do, as much as in them lieth, to diffolve that Order which is the
Harmony of God's Church. Suppoſe therefore, that in theſe and the like Confide-
rations, the Law did utterly prohibit Baptiſm to be adminiftred by any other, than
"Perſons thereunto folemnly confecrated, what Neceffity foever happen; are not
many things firm being done, although, in Part, done otherwiſe than poſitive Rigor
"and Strictneſs did require? Nature, as much as is poffible, inclineth unto Validities,
"and Preſervations: Diffolutions, and Nullities of things done, are not only not fa-
"voured, but hated, when either urged without Caufe, or extended beyond their
Reach. If therefore at any Time it come to paſs, that in teaching publickly or pri-
vately, in delivering this bleffed Sacrament of Regeneration, fome unfanctified Hand,
contrary to Christ's fuppofed Ordinance, do intrude it felf to execute that, whereunto
"the Laws of God, and his Church hath deputed others; which of theſe two Opini-
ons ſeemeth more agreeable with Equity, Ours [of the Church of England] that dif
"allow what is done amifs, yet make not the Force of the Word and Sacraments, much
« leſs their Nature and very Subſtance, to depend on the Miniſter's Authority and Cal
ling; or elſe Theirs [the Puritants heretofore, but now Dr. H -s, and many
young Clergymen's] which defeat, difannul, and annihilate both, in Reſpect of that
one only perfonal Defect; there being not any Law of God, which faith, that if the
"Minifter be incompetent, his Word ſhall be no Word, his Baptifm no Baptiſm R.”
And p. 239
"The Grace of Baptifm cometh, by Donation, from God alone: That
"God hath committed the Miniſtry of Baptiſm unto ſpecial Men, it is for Order's fake
" in his Church, and not to the end that their Authority might give Being, or add
"Force to the Sacrament it felf. That Infants have right to the Sacrament in Baptifm,
we all acknowledge. Charge them we cannot as guileful and wrongful Poffeffors of
that, whereunto they have Right by the manifeſt Will of the Donor, and are not
"Parties unto any Defect or Diſorder in the manner of receiving the fame. And if any
fuch Diſorder be, we have fufficiently before declared, that Delictum cum Capite
femper ambulat, Mens own Fauls are their own Harms."
<5
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And laft of all. "Whereas general and full Conſent of the godly-learned of all
Ages, doth make for Validity of Baptiſm; yea, albeit adminiftred in private, and
even by Women; which kind of Baptiſm in Cafe of Neceffity, divers Reformed
"Churches
536
APPENDIX.
re
"Churches do both allow and defend; fome others, which do not defend, tolerate:
Few, in Compariſon, and they without any juſt Cauſe, do utterly difannul and anni-
"hilate Surely however, through Defect on either fide, the Sacrament may be with-
“out Fruit, as well in fome Caſes to him which receiveth, as to him which giveth it;
yet no Diſability of either part can ſo far make it fruftrate and without effect, as to
deprive it of the very Nature of true Baptifm, having all things elfe, which the Or-
"dinance of Chrift requireth."
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દર
Mr. Thorndike in his Rights of the Church in a Chriftian State; in the Year 1649.
p. 107. hath theſe Words.
"If the Charge of Baptizing given the Apoſtles, had been meant of the Office of
"Miniftring, not of the Power of granting it, what Reafon could there be, that
"St. Peter, having converted Cornelius and his Company, ſhould not baptize them in
"Perſon, but command them to be baptized? Acts x. 48.
<c
"And if the Apoſtles employ their Deacon St. Philip, to preach and to baptize, is
"it not by Confequence, that the Governours of particular Churches employ their
"Deacons about the fame? In the Synagogue it cannot be faid, that the Office of Cir-
cumcifing ever required any higher Quality than that of a Perfon circumcifed: And
"therefore in the Church, if there can be any Queſtion, whether a Perfon is to be
"admitted to Baptiſm or no, it is the chief Power of the Church that muſt determine
"it. Or if the Occafion require Solemnity, which may argue him that officiates it, to
"be the Chief in the Church, no Deacon or Presbyter muſt preſume to do it before the
Biſhop. But becauſe Baptiſm is the Gate, as well of the invifible Church, as of the
"vifible: And becauſe the Occafions are many and divers which endanger the prevent-
ing of fo neceffary an Office by Death; in this Regard the Practice of the Primi-
"tive Church, alledged by Tertullian De Bapt. c. 18. must not be condemned, where-
by Baptifm given by him that is only baptized, is not only valid but well done.”
Mr. Thorndike in his Epilogue, 1659. p. 150. Lib. III.
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66
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"When the Power of Confirming, proper to the Biſhop, evidenceth, that he alone
granteth Baptiſm (either by particular Appointment, or by general Law, in which
"his Authority is involved) but a Lay-man fometimes may minifter it; we ſee what
"St. Paul means when he fays, 1 Cor. i. 17. God fent me not to baptize, but to preach
"the Gospel: Our Lord having faid, Matth. xxviii. 19. Go preach and make Difciples
of all Nations, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft:
“To wit, that the Power of appointing it, not the Miniſtry of doing it, is
proper to
"the Apoſtles and their Succeffors. Which Reaſon will hold in fundry Particulars,
concerning Ordination, concerning Abſolution and Pennance, concerning Confirmation
"and others. In all which this being once fecured, that no Man act beyond the
Power, which he receiveth, it will be no Prejudice to the Unity of the Church, that
"fome Orders do that, by particular Commiffion from their Superiors, which their
"Order inables not all that are of it, to do. Becauſe in fuch Cafes, it is not Authority,
"but Miniftry which they contribute."
xc
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Idem. Lib. III. p. 67.
"But a great many Witneffes ſpeak not ſo much, as the Law, the Rule, the Cuf-
tom, of giving Baptifin by any Man that was a Chriftian in that Cafe of Neceffity,
(i. e. rather than any one ſhould die unbaptized) For, out of that Cafe of Neceffity,
"the Office of Baptizing belonged to the very higheſt in the Church; to wit, fo as
might ſtand with the more weighty Imployments of their Office: For otherwiſe, a
"little common Senſe would ſerve to inform them, that thoſe Offices which required
more of their Perſonal Knowledge, Skill, Wiſdom, and Goodneſs, were to be pre-
"ferred before the Office of Baptizing; which, though it concerns Salvation, yet re-
quires no fuch Qualities. Can any Man then imagine any Reaſon, why all Chriſtians
tr
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are
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
537
<<
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<<
are licenfed, or rather commanded to baptize in that Cafe, but the Neceffity of the
Office? And that no Infant fhould go out of the World unbaptized? And this
chokes all the Exception that is made from the Cuftom of giving Infants the Eu-
«charift, in the antient Church. For, as I have fhewed before, that it was not held
neceffary to Salvation, as Baptifm was; fo here I must alledge, that it cannot be faid,
"that the Eucharift was celebrated, and that all Chriftians might celebrate the Eu-
charift, in this Cafe of Neceffity, to the Intent that Infants might not go out of the
"World, either unbaptized, or without the Eucharift."
<<
Mr. Thorndike. Juft Weights and Meafures. 1662, p. 114.
"As for the Sacrament of Baptifm; that, as the Bishop only allows it, in any Cafe
"that may be queftionable; fo the Miniftring of it may come to a Deacon, in the
"Prieft's Abfence, nay to a Lay-Man, rather than that any Child fhould dye un-
baptized."
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28.
ALKU Y 3..
E. ?
3 S f
An
538
66
An Additional LETTER" From Dr. John Cofin,
afterwards Bishop of Durham, to Mr. Cordel, who
fcrupled to communicate with the French-Proteſtants,
upon Some of the modern Pretences."
(6
66
D
R. Ifaac Bafire, Arch-Deacon, of Northumberland, in his Account of Biſhop
Cofin, (annexed to his Funeral Sermon) in Page 58 hath theſe Words.
"This Truth is confeffed by ſomebody (otherwiſe a good Man) who yet
"feems no great Friend to our Biſhop; but being convinced by the Reality
"of theſe his Actions, efpecially abroad, hath thefe Words. [This must be reported
<<
C:
C:
<:
to the due Commendation of Dr. Cofin, that when he was in France, he neither joined
with the Church of French Proteftants at Charenton, nigh Paris, [Dr. Bafire here
"inferts the Word falſe] nor kept any Communion with the Papiſts therein; but confined
himself to the Church of old Engliſh Proteftants therein, where by his Pious living, and
conftant Praying and Preaching, he reduced fome Recufants to, and confirmed more
"Doublers in the Proteftant Religion. Many were his Encounters with Jefuits and
Priests, defeating the Sufpicions of his Foes, and exceeding the Expectation of his
Friends, in the Success of fuch Disputes. Church-hiſtory, by Mr. Thomas Fuller,
"Cent. XVII. Book XI. Sect. 38. p. 173.] His many Miftakes about Mr. Peter
"Smart's Profecutions (or rather Perfecutions) of our Biſhop, are confuted by the Bi-
fhop's own exprefs Letter, to Mr. Waring and Dr. Reeves; April 6. 1658. In
<which Letter alfo our Bifhop cenfures at large Mr. Fuller's Calumny, wherein he -
"affirms that Dr. Cofin did not join with the French Proteftants at Charenton; againſt
" which Affertion the Doctor declares to all the World, that he never refuſed to join
"with the Proteſtants there, or any where elſe, in all things wherein they joined with
"the Church of England. And that our Doctor was conftant in this his Judgment,
may further appear by former full Letter of his from Paris, February 7. 1650.
"written to one Mr. Cordel, then at Bloys, who ſeemed fhy to communicate with the
"Proteſtants there, upon this very Scruple of their inorderly Ordination, &c. as Dr. Cofin
"ftiled it; who there and then determined the Queſtion in the Affirmative, for our
"Communion with them. Salvo femper fure Ecclefia Anglicana."
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a
I tranſcribe this whole Paffage; as well to certify the Reader that fuch a Letter was
written by Dr. Cofin, as to let him fee the Occafion of it. The Letter follows.
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"To Mr. Cordel at Blois.
I
Paris, Feb. 7. 1650.
Lyke your Moderation well, in giving fo Fayre and Calm an Anſwer to Monfieur
Teſtard's Motion for Communicating in theyre Church; which truly (to ſpeak
my Mind freely to you) I would not wifh any of ours abfolutely to refuſe, or
"determine to be unlawful, for fear of a greater Scandal that may thereupon arife, than
"we can tell how to anſwer or excufe: Efpecially if any of us fhould renounce it,
upon theſe Two Grounds which you alledge for them; 1, That they have no
"Priefts; 2dly, That they have no Confecration of the Elements.
"I. For as to the firft, though we may fafely fay, and maintaine it, that theyre
"Minifters are not fo dulye and rightly ordayned as they ſhould be, by thofe Prelates
"and Biſhops of the Church, who, fince the Apoſtles time, have only had the ordi-
،،
nary Power and Authority to make and conſtitute a Prieft; yet that, by reafon of
"this
An Additional LETTER from Dr. John Cofin, &c.
539
"this defect, there is a Total Nullity in theyre Ordination, or that they be therefore
<<
no Prieſts or Minifters of the Church at all, becauſe they are ordayned by thofe only
"who are no more but Prieſts or Minifters among them; for my part I would be lonth
66
•
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to affirme and determine it againſt them. And theſe are my Reaſons.
cr
"Ift, I conceive that the Power of Ordination was reftreyned to Biſhops, rather by
Apoftolical Practice, and the perpetual Cuftome and Canous of the Church, than by
any abfolute Precept, that either Christ or his Apoſtles gave about it. Nor can I yet
meet with any convincing Argument to fet it upon a more high and divine Inſtitu-
"tion: From which Cuſtoms and Laws of the univerfal Church, (therein following
"the Example of the Apoſtles) though I reckon it to be a great Prefumption and Fault,
"for any particular Church to recede, and may truly fay that fieri non oportuit, (when
"the College of meere Preſbyters fhall ordeyne and make a Prieft,) yet I cannot fo
peremptorily ſay that factum non valet, and pronounce the Ordination to be utterly
voyd. For, as in the Cafe of Baptifine, we take juſt Exceptions againſt a Lay-man,
or a Woman, that prefumes to give it; and may as justly punish them by the Cen-
"fures of the Church wherein they live, for taking upon them to do that Office, which
was never committed unto them; yet, if once they have done it, we make not
theyre Act and Adminiſtration of Baptifme voyd; nor prefume we to iterate the Sa-
crament after them: So may it well be in the Cafe of Ordination. And the Mini-
❝fters of the reformed Congregations in France, who are lyable to give an Account,
"both to God and his Church in general, for taking upon them to exerciſe that Power,
"which by the perpetual Practice and Laws of his Church, they were never permitted
to Exerciſe, and may juſtly be faulted for it, both by the Verdict of all others who
are Members of the Catholique Church, (as we are, that adhere to the Laws of it
more ſtrictly and peaceably then they do,) and by the Cenfures of a lawful Meeting,
or general Councel in that Church, which at any time ſhall come to have Authority
over them. And yet all this while, the Act which they do, though it be diforderly
"done, and the Ordinations which they make, though they make them unlawfully,
"ſhall not be altogether null and invalid, no more than the Act of Baptizing before
mentioned, or the Act of Confecrating and Adminiſtring the Eucharift by a Prieſt
"that is ſuſpended, and reftrayned from exercifing his Power and Office in the Church.
Therefore if at any time a Miniſter ſo ordeyned in theſe French Churches, came to
incorporate himſelfe in ours, and to receive a publique Charge, or Cure of Soules
among us, in the Church of England, (as I have known fome of them to have fo
"done of late, and can inftance in many other before my Time,) our Biſhops did not
reordeyne him before they admitted him to his Charge; as they muſt have done, if
"his former Ordination here in France had been voyd. Nor did our Lawes require
"more of him, than to declare his publique Confent to the Religion received amongſt
us, and to ſubſcribe the Articles eſtabliſhed. And I love not to be herein more wife,
or harder than our own Church is, which becauſe it hath never publiquely condem-
"ned, and pronounced the Ordinations of the other reformed Churches to be voyd, as
"it doth not thofe of the unreformed Churches neither among the Papifts, (though I
"heare that the Miniſters here in [See at the End A.] France and Geneva ufe fo to do,
"who will not admit a Papiſt Prieſt himſelfe to exercife the Office of a Miniſter
among them, till they have re-ordained him;) for my part, as to that Particular, I
"dare not take upon me to condemn, or determine a Nullity of their own Ordina-
"tions againſt them; though in the interim I take it to be utterly a Fault among them,
" and a great Prefumption, deſerving a great Cenfure to be inflicted on them, by fuch
a Power of the Church as may, by the Grace of God, be at any time duly gathered
"together hereafter againſt them, as well for the Amendment of many other Diſorders
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<<
" and
540 An Additional LETTER from Dr. John Cofin, &e.
"and Defects in their Church, as for this particular inorderly Ordination and defact of
Epifcopacy amongſt them.
65
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<<
<<
2dly, Befides that, this theyre Boldnes, Prefumption and Novelty (in fetting up
themſelves, without any invincible Neceffity that they had ſo to do, againſt the Apo-
ftolical Practice, and perpetual Order of God's Church till their Dayes,) was alwayes-
"faulted, and reſerved for farther Cenfure, in due time, which they have justly me-
"rited. There have been both learned and eminent Men, (as well in former Ages as
"in this; and even among the Roman Catholiques, as well as Proteftants) who have.
"held and mainteynd it for good and paffable Divinity, that Prefbyters have the intrin-
"fical Power of Ordination in Acțu primo; though for the avoyding of Schiíme, (as
"St. Hierom ſpeaks) and preſerving Order and Diſcipline in the Church, they have been
reftreyned ever ſince the firſt Times, and ſtill are, (but where they take a Liberty to
" themſelves, that was never duely given them) from exercifing their Power in Actu
fecundo: And therefore, that however their Act of Ordayning of other Preſbyters,
fhall be voyd according to the Strictneſs of the Canon (in regard they were univerfally
prohibited from Executing that Act, and breaking the Order and Diſcipline of the
Church;) yet that the ſame Act ſhall not be fimply voyd in the Nature of the thing,
"in regard that the intrinsical Power remayned, when the Exerciſe of it was fufpended,
" and taken from them. Of this Opinion and Judgment in old Time, were St. Hie-
rom and his Followers, alleadged by Gratian, dift, 93. and
of later Times:
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<<
« The Maſter of the Sentences, Lib. IV. Diſt. 24. Bonavent. ibid. 93. Art. 2. with other
Schoolmen, as Aureol. ibid. Art. 2. and Anton. de Rofellis, de Poteft. Imper. & Papali
"Part IV. C. 18. and in this latter Age not only Armachanus in Sum. ad quæft. Art.
"1. 11. c. 2. 3, &c. & c. 7. Alphonf. a Caftro (verb. Epifcopus) Mich. Medina. De Sacr.
"hom. orig. Lib. I. c. 5. among the Roman Catholiques; but likewife Caffander, in
"Confult. Art. 14. befydes Melancthon, Clementias, Gerardus and Calixtus, amongſt
"the Proteftants; and Bishop Jewel (Def. 2. p. c. 3. d. 1. &c. 9. dis. 1.) Dr. Field,
"of the Church, Lib. III. c. 39. Hooker Ecclef. Pol. Lib. III. §. 3. ult. and Mafon
(C among the Divines of our own Church. All which Authors are of fo great Credit
" with you and me, that though we are not altogether of their Mind, yet we would
"be loath to let the World fee, that we contradict them all, and condemn their Judg-
ment openly; as needs we muſt, if we hold the contrary, and fay, that the Mini-
«fters of the reformed French Churches, for want of Epifcopal Ordination, have no
"Order at all.
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1
3dly, If upon this
this ground we renounce the French, we must for the very fame
"Reaſon renounce all the Miniſters of Germany befides, (for the Superintendents, that
"make and ordeyne Miniſters there, have no new Ordination, beyond their own Pref-
bytery, at all) and then what will become of the Proteftant Party?
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4thly, If the Church and Kingdom of England have acknowledged them (as they
"did in admitting of them when they fled thither for Refuge; and placing them by
publique Authority in diverſe of the moſt eminent Cityes among us, without Prohi-
"bition to any of our own People to goe and communicate with them) why fhould
"ve that are but private Perfons, utterly difclayme their Communion in their own
"Country?
CC
5thly, S. Cyprian's Errour, in re-baptifing Heretiques, was as fcandalous to other
"Churches abroad, as the French Errour is in their Ordeyning of Minifters here; and
CC yet thoſe other Churches abroad did not renounce Communion with him; but Cor-
"nelius and his Clergy could well agree with him and his Followers, notwithſtanding
"the Difference between them in that particular; which is a fayre Pattern for our-
ſelves, though they in the mean while be in the wrong, as S. Cyprian then was, (and
"C
·
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“ વ
An Additional LETTER from Dr. John Cofin, &c.
541
ંદ
"fo we may tell them, without diſclayming their Communion) and we in the right,
as Cornelius then was.
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6thly, Somewhat it is, that they do not abfolutelye difclayme Epifcopacy, nor
ever did; but ſay and hold, That their Prefbyters are Biſhops, efpecially the chief
Preſbyters that preſyde at their Ordinations and their Courts of Jurifdiction: So that
"the true Queſtion between us and them, is not fo much, whether there ought to be
Biſhops in the Church, or no; as whether theyre Preſbyters be true Biſhops; where-
"in I thinke they will have more to doe, to defend themſelves for want of Subordina-
"tion then of Ordination it felfe. For where the Clergy are any great Multitude, Or-
"der doth neceffarily require that they be diſtinguiſhed by Degrees: and therefore as
they have ever been, fo we hold (and, as I believe, we hold moft truly,) there ever
ought to be at leaſt two forts of Ecclefiaftical Perfons, befydes Deacons, the one fub-
"ordinate to the other, as inferiour Minifters were to the Apoftles at the beginning,
"and to the Biſhops always fince: Which we find plainly fet forth in the Scripture,
"and in all Ecclefiaftical Records that followed after. Thus by all that I have faid in
"this firſt Point, you fee my Mind; wherein I ſeek the Ways of Peace with others,
without prejudice to the Truth and Right that we have among our felves. And there-
"fore under that Proteftation (See at the End B.) which Monfieur Teftard offers you a
permiffion to make, and confidering there is no Prohibition of our Church againſt it,
(as there is againſt our communicating with the Papists, and that well grounded upon
"the Scripture and Will of God;) I doe not fee but that both you, and others that are
" with you, may (eyther in Cafe of Neceffity, when you cannot have the Sacra-
ment among your felves; or in regard of declaring your Unitye in profeffing the fame
Religion, which you and
they do) go other whiles to communicate reverentlye with
"them of the French Church. Only I could wish, that as you fhall be admitted to
your Proteſtation, before you do it; fo you may be likewiſe admitted to receive that
" bleſſed Euchariſt devoutly, upon your Knees, and have the Words pronounced to
you, when they deliver it, which, even in Scotland, they omit not; and which in
"Effect the Minifters here in France fay before, both in their Exhortation or Declara→
"tion to the People, and in their Prayers to God. [Prenez, mangez les viandes Sa-
"crees de noftre Seigneur Jefus Chrift, qui nous veut vraiment faire participans de Son
Corps & de Son Sang: le pain celefte pour vous repaiftre & nourir a vie eternelle: la
"Communion de Jefus Chrift noftre Seigneur livré pour nous a mort, & nous donne en
“viande & nouriture de vie eternelle; en certaine foy que nous jouiffons de Son Corps et
"de Son Sang voire de Luy tout entierement. Jefus Chrift eftant vray Dieu & vray
homme, eſt veritablement le Sainct pain celefte pour nous vivifier.] Any of which Sen-
"tences (being their own already) if you could obteyne to be particularly fayd to you,
"when you receive the Sacrament in both Kinds, it would be more agreeable to the
"Inftitution and Nature of that holy Action and Service, and more efficacious to the
elevating of your devout Souls at that inſtant Time, then barely to pass by, and have
nothing fayd to you, but what was generally fayd before in the Declaration to all the
"People.
Nor know I any Reafon, why they may not as well fatisfy your Defyres in
"theſe two Particulars, (without alleadging the Order of their Church againſt it) as
"fuffer you to make your Proteftation, which is no leſs againſt their Order, than the
"others are: Though we hold not eyther of them fo material, as that without them
"there may be no Communion at all.
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"II. Now as to the ſecond Point of Confecrating the Sacrament: I ſhall need to ſay
no more, but that whether you take it after the way of the Greeke Church, by
Prayers and Invocation; or after the way of the Latine, by Repeating the Words of
our Saviour in the Inftitution of the Sacrament, it cannot be denyed, but that theſe
"French Churches have them both; as you may fee in their publique Books appointed
3 T t
66
"" for
542 An Additional LETTER from Dr. John Cofin, &c.
"for that purpoſe, though difpofed after another Order than ours is. And if it be Idem,
"though it be Idem alio modo, it alters not the Subftance or Nature of the thing it felfe
"which is as much as at the prefent I can fay to both your Demands: And which
you may communicate to whom you pleafe, (to Monfieur Teftard and all, if you will)
"but fpecially to my noble Friend Sir Ralphe Verney, whofe Servant I am, as
lykewife truly yours.
>>
てく
​I am
J. C.
"Monfieur Teftard will do you and me a fpecial Favour, and he will do fome good
"Service in it befydes to our King, to our Church, and to his own Partye, if at your
"inftant Requeſt (which I pray make to him) he will be pleafed (according to the
Proteftation, which he will permit you to fubfcribe) to give his direct Anſwer to thefe
two Queſtions, which you may prepare ready for him in a fayre Paper written alone
by themſelves, viz.
τε
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1. Whether the French Churches here reformed, hold and urge fuch an abfolutely
Neceffity of Preſbytery, as that all other Churches are bound to receive and eſtabliſh
"it among them?
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"2.Whether Epifcopacy, or the Government of Churches by Bishops (eſpecially being
"affifted by Prefbyters, as ours are by theyre Deans and Chapters) be not a lawful
"Order and Government in God's Church.
"Sure I am, that not only the Reformed Churches in Germanye, both in their Con-
"feſſion of Auſpurg, in their Apologie for that Confeffion, Cap. de Ordine Ecclefiaftico,
" & Cap. de Poteft. Ecclefia, theyre other Colloquies at Wormes and Ratispon, and
" in divers of theyre Bookes befydes, but lykewife Mr. Calvin (who fubfcribed to the
"Auguftane Confeffian) in his Booke de Neceffitate. Reformanda Ecclefiæ ad Sadoletum
"Cardinalem, his old Friend, and in his Epiftles to Archbishop Cranmer, and Bishop
Ridley, and in his Inftitutions, Lib. IV. Cap. IV. §. 4, &c. and with him Mr. Beza
rr too, in his Booke, de Diverfis Grad. Minifterii, Cap. XXI. §.-2. and Cap. XVIII.
§. Sure I am, (I fay) that all theſe acknowledge Epifcopacye and the Government
by Biſhops to be lawful; and therefore I doubt not, but Monfieur Teftard, and as
many more Minifters of the French Church as be neere him, (but himſelfe howfo-
ever) may well fubfcribe his Hand and Seale to both the Questions propounded.
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A.
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Monfieur Teftard can tell you, whether this be true, or no: And if it be true,
"I know not how they will be able to juftifye it.
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B. Which was, not to recede in any wife, from the Doctrine and Difcipline of
"the Church of England; nor thereby to approve this Difcipline of the French Churches
"for a Rule to others; or to joyne with them that renounce Epifcopacye, and Con-
"demne the Proceedings of our owne Church, or the Lawes of our owne Kingdome.'
·
THE
543
}
The SECOND PART
Of the Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptiſm and Diffenters Baptifm.
The PREFACE.
T
put a Stop to the Practice of Re-baptizing fuch People as were in Communi-
on with the Church of England, but made to doubt (by troublefome and over-
bufy Innovators) of the Validity of their former Baptifm, becaufe it had been
conferred by Diffenting Teachers (who in all theſe Diſputes are called Laymen)
there was a little Book written to fhew (and therefore called) The Judgment of the
Church of England, in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and Diffenters Baptifm: Which
Judgment was (as the Author believed,) that ſuch Perſons as had been before baptized
with Water, in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost (although their Baptifm
were irregular for want of a proper Adminiſtrator) ought not to be baptized again.
This Book, in a little Time, received an Anfwer of fome Length, by a Man who
writes apace, and under the Prejudice (though he may think it none) of defending his
own unuſual Practice; having been (as it is faid) re-baptized by an irregular Curate,
who acquainted neither the Miniſter of the Pariſh nor the Biſhop with the true State of
the Caſe: And this I fay to correct a Miſtake in the former Book, wherein I had fup-
pofed the Biſhop to be truly informed, that the adult Perfon had been before baptized
by a Diſſenting Teacher; whereas he had been only afked to permit an adult Perfon to
be baptized, to which he eafily gave Leave. I would not therefore have this Example
ſhrowded under the Authority of that excellent Prelate, as though he had permitted the
Re-baptizing a Man, who had been before baptized by a Diffenting Teacher, after he
knew it was fo.
I have carefully read this Anfwer, and do, in the following Papers, take Notice of
fome Particulars in it: But the following Papers are not intended for a Reply to that
Anfier (that may be done perhaps by fome body elfe, if it be thought neceffary) but
for Confirmation, or a fort of Illuftration, of the former Book; of which fome Parti-
culars are here explained, and ſet forth more at large, and others are added to them;
and put into a Method, better fitted to the Apprehenfion of that fort of People that is
likelieft to be difturbed by thefe New Teachers, whom I venture to call (for Brevity's
Sake, and not in Obloquy) Rebaptifts; and think my felf juſtified by the 19th Canon
Concil. Nice which orders the Paulianifts to be re-baptized, although it thought thoſe
Hereticks had never been baptized at all, becauſe they were not baptized in the Form
preſcribed by Chrift, i. e. In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
I have called this Book The Second Part of the Judgment of the Church of England,
not becauſe it is altogether new, and different from the former, but becauſe indeed I
would not be at the Pains of modelling a-new the firſt Part, and working into it the
Particulars that are here fupplied. And I hope the Reader will not think his Patience
hereby abuſed, or that he is put to an unneceffary Charge in purchafing this Part, if he
has the former. He will rather give me leave to anſwer an Objection that may be
made to both thefe Books, and that is, that the endeavouring to fhew the Validity of
Lay-and of Diffenters Baptifm, will encourage the Diffenters to continue in their
State
544
The PREFACE.
State of Separation from the Church of England, and tempt ill People to defpife the
Prieſtly Office, if thoſe who are no Prieſts may be allowed to make Chriftians. To this I
anfwer, First, That by endeavouring to fhew what is the Judgment of the Church of
England in theſe Caſes, I do no farther encourage either of thoſe Miſchiefs, than I ap-
prehend the Church of England encourages them, and fo far I fhall always go, without
fear of going wrong. Secondly, If any of theſe Miſchiefs fhould follow, to whom
ſhould they be imputed? To thoſe who terrify the Minds of honeft People, by filling
them with Doubts and Scruples about the Validity of their Baptifin? Or to thofe who
tell them their Baptiſm is good and valid, according to the Judgment of the Church in
whoſe Communion they live? Shall it be permitted to every audacious private Man,
by Writing, Preaching, and Difcourfing, to diſturb the Peace of the Church, unfettle
Peoples Minds, and cauſe them to doubt of their very Chriſtianity, and not be lawful
to let thoſe People know how little Caufe they have to be diſturbed, unfettled, or to
doubt of their Chriſtianity, by fhewing them, that the Church admits of, and accounts
their Baptiſm to be good, although it were adminiftred by People who were not lawful
Minifters according to the Church of England? But, thirdly, I do not conceive what
miſchief fuch Books will do, with refpect to the Diffenters, nor how they will receive
any Encouragement to continue in their Separation, if even the Church fhould make
an open Declaration, that the Baptiſms which their Teachers confer (which we fuppofe
to be Right in the Matter and Form) are fuch as ought not to be reiterated. What
Ufe would the Diffenters make of fuch a Declaration? Why, they would know thereby
that the Church of England accounts them to be Chriftians; a great Matter! But have
they not always known this? Has the Church ever declared otherwife? Were they ever
given to underſtand that the Church believed them to be no Chriftians? Has any Bi-
ſhop, Prieſt, or Deacon of the Church of England told them, at any Time, either pub-
lickly or privately (till within thefe few Years paft,) that they were not Chriftians?
Have we not all along called them our Chriftian Brethren, and our Diffenting Brethren?
Have we not conftantly treated them as Schifmaticks? What Senfe is there in that
Word, unleſs they be Chriftians? Do we not daily reproach them with their needleſs
Separation from the Church, and with the Miſchiefs that follow thence? And could
we do this reaſonably, unleſs we fuppofed them to be Chriftians? So that whether we
give them good or bad Words, whether we treat them as Friends or Enemies, we all
along ſuppoſe them to be Chriſtians. And would a Declaration then, that the Church
allows not of Re-baptizing ſuch as come over from the diffenting Congregations, to the
Communion of the Church, would this (I afk) tell them what they did not know be-
fore? Or would it encourage them to continue where they are? Will they be readier
to come over to the Church, when they are told they muſt be firſt Re-baptized? Will
they the rather ſtand out, becauſe the Church has made the way to their Return eaſier?
What Temper are thefe People of, that fly ſtill farther from you, the nearer you
endeavour
to approach them? Tell them they are as Jews and Gentiles, and they will liften, and
draw near, and, with a little more ill Ufage run into your Arms: But, own them to
be Chriſtians, tell them the Doors of our Church are always open to them, and that
they only want to enter and communicate with us, in all the Ordinances of our common
Lord, to make themſelves and us the happieſt People in the World, and away they
run, it ſeems, like fo many wounded Deer. I profefs I can hardly treat this Matter
feriouſly, fince I can ſee fo little Cauſe to apprehend any Inconveniencies from fuch a
Declaration, or any Manner of Encouragement the Diffenters would receive from it.
Their Baptiſms it is faid would thereby be authorized, and receive a Sort of Sanction
which they now want. I grant, that as far as declaring againft re-baptizing fuch Peo-
ple, is authorizing their Baptiſm, fo far the Church would authorize their Baptiſm by,
fuch Declaration; but that is very little, if any Thing at all. As for the Party that
baptizes
The PREFAC E.
545
baptizes thus without Commiffion, and againſt all Rule and Order, and againſt Com-
mand of lawful Superiors, he is by fuch a Declaration left in the State he was, he is
not hereby excuſed nor juftified, nor is his Fault (whatever it be) in any Degree extenu-
ated or leffened, he muſt anſwer it to God and to the Laws; let the Baptifm be never
fo good, he is never the more innocent Man, nor leſs obnoxious. But for the Baptiſm
it felf, that is thus conferred upon an innocent and altogether unoffending Perfon, what
is the Harm of ſo far Authorizing that, as to declare, that fince it is done, it muſt not
be undone? And when the Church will not admit fuch Perfons to be re-baptized,
does it not do the fame Thing to all Intents and Purpoſes? The Father brings his Child
to his Pariſh-Minifter, and tells him he is twelve Years old, but he hears from fome
People, that the Child is not a Chriftian, becauſe he was baptized by a Diffenting
Teacher; but there he ſtands, and if he be not a Chriſtian, he defires he may be made
one. The Miniſter, as is his Duty, acquaints the Biſhop with it, and humbly defires
to know what muſt be done. The Biſhop tells him, that the Church allows him not
to re-baptize fuch Child. The Miniſter acquaints the Father with it, and fo the Mat-
ter ends. Now I would fain know, if the Father can think any otherwife than that
his Child was rightly (though not regularly) baptized, and that this refufing to re-
baptize the Child, was as effectual a Declaration, that fuch Baptifm ought not to be
reiterated, as if it had been expreffly declared in fo many Words; fuch Declaration
would have faved his Scruple and Inquiry, but fuch a Refufal tells him fully what the
Church's Judgment is. And will not the Diffenting Teacher who baptized it, be of the
fame Opinion? I think therefore, that the Church's Declaration, in fuch a Cafe, would
have no worſe Effect upon the Diffenters, than the Silence of the Church hath, and
will have, fuppofing it be known and taken for granted that the Church will not (as fhe
never has done yet) allow her Miniſters to re-baptize. But after all, the Perfons that
are likelieft to be re-baptized, are not Diffenters, but fuch as have left them, fuch as
have forfaken them, and joined themſelves in Communion with the Church: Thefe
are the People who are to be filled with Scruples, and brought to doubt of the Validity
of their Baptiſm, and therefore all the Diſturbance is among the Church-Members,
and the Diffenters, I imagine, feel no Inconveniency by theſe new Doctrines, nor think
themſelves concerned with theſe Diſputes, and will, we may be confident, be the more
backward to confider fuch Things, when they foreſee that if they ſhould go over to the
Church, they muſt be re-baptized. It is therefore much for the Sake of fuch as are con-
verted to the Church, for the Quiet of their Minds and Settlement of their Confcience
in their new Choice, that ſuch a Declaration were to be defired; and I know not if a
Tenderneſs for fuch as are of our Communion, ought not to out-weigh the Fears of
fuch Inconveniencies as fome may apprehend may arife from fuch a Declaration. Add
to this, that fuch a Declaration againſt re-baptizing, feems to me the only Way now
left, to repreſs the forwardneſs of ſuch young Students, as not having fufficiently con-
fidered the Doctrine of the ancient Church, and that of their own, with the Principles
they proceeded upon, are ready at all Adventures to maintain the neceffity of re-bap-
tizing, and which are indeed the true Occaſion of all this Miſchief and Diſturbance in
the Church. As to ill Peoples being tempted by ſuch a Declaration to deſpiſe the
Prieſtly-Office, if thoſe who are not Prieſts can be allowed to make Chriftians, I do
not foreſee that any ſuch Uſe can be made of it, when thoſe ill People fhall fee fuch
uncommiffioned Hands under all the Prohibitions, Diſcouragements and Reſtraints, that
the Laws either of Church or State can lay them. Ill People will always deſpiſe the
Prieſtly-Office, and not the leſs, I doubt, for the Priest's magnifying it to any Exceſs.
I am afraid to meddle with any ſuch Arguments; and therefore to Objections of this
Kind ſhall only fay, that the Popish Church (however defective in Evangelical) has
certainly as much of worldly Wiſdom as a Church need to have, and certainly car-
3 Uu
ries,
546
The PREFACE.
ries the Prieſtly Dignity as high as it can well be carried, and underftands, claims and
maintains the Privileges, Honours and Advantages of the Sacerdotal Powers, as well as
any Man in England can; and yet is not afraid of declaring that Lay-Baptiſm conferred
in the Manner ſhe preſcribes is good and valid, and ought not to be reiterated, nor yet
afraid that the Prieftly Power will be thereby deſpiſed, or any Ways debaſed by being
communicated (in this particular Part of it) to others who are not Prieſts, upon fuch and
fuch Occafions and Emergencies. I have no Authority of my Own to preſs the Rea-
der with, but I have as good Intentions, and as much Sincerity as Archbiſhop Whitgift
had, when he wrote againſt the old Puritans upon this very Subject, and therefore I
will end this Preface with his Words. This and the other little Book I have written,
Not to bring Confufion into the Church (for let Men take heed that they ufurp not an
Office whereunto they be not called, for God will call them to an Account for fo doing ;)
but to teach a Truth, to take a Yoke of Doubtfulneſs from Mens Confciences, and to refift
an Error not much differing from Donatifm and Anabaptifm.
1
The
547
The SECOND PART
Of the Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptiſm and Diſſenters Baptiſm.
T will be for the Reader's Service, that I divide the whole Time that has paffed
from the Reformation to this prefent Year 1712, into three diſtinct Periods, each
of them containing fifty Years. The firſt fifty will take in the Reigns of King
Edward VI, and Queen Elizabeth. The fecond fifty will take in the Reigns of
King James I. and King Charles I. and the Ufurpations, till the Restoration of King
Charles II. The third fifty will begin in 1660, and End in 1712. I fay then,
İ. The Articles of Religion, and the Book of Common-Prayer with its Rubrics, were
made in 1552, and the fame Perſons were employed in making both.
II. The Articles of Religion, which were made in 1562, were reviewed, changed,
and approved by the fame Perfons (though there were many more) who had reviewed,
changed, and approved the Book of Common-Prayer that was ſet forth three Years be-
fore, viz. in 1559.
It is therefore very probable, that the Rubrics and the Articles (being made, near the
fame Time, and by the fame Perfons,) do not contradict or overthrow each the other,
but are confiftent, and agree very well together. When therefore the Rebaptifts cannot
forbear owning and confeffing, that by the Rubric of the Office of private Baptifm,
Lay-Baptiſm was allowed, and held to be valid, for the firſt fifty Years of the Refor
mation, and yet will not forbear alledging, that by the Articles Lay-Baptifm is con-
demned and nulled, and declared void; What do they fay, but that the Rubric and
the Articles contradict and overthrow each the other? But let the Reader remember,
that every one of the Men who made the Rubrics, and the Articles, believed Lay-bap-
tiſm to be valid, and allowed it in Cafe of Neceffity.
III. The Church of England was, for the firſt fifty Years, a truly reformed Apofto-
lical Church; the Rebaptifts will not, I think, deny it, and yet this Church allowed of
Lay-Baptiſm all that while. It is not therefore inconfiftent with a truly reformed
Apoftolical Church to allow of Lay-Baptifm: Whatever the Confequences are, of al-
lowing Lay-Baptifm, they are all of them to be charged on the Church of England,
which allowed it for fifty Years. Let therefore the Rebaptiſts ſpend as much Time and
Pains as they pleaſe, in urging and exaggerating the Inconfiſtencies, the Inconveniencies,
the Miſchiefs, the Unlawfulneſs, and Sinfulneſs of Lay-Baptifm, their Arrows will
every one of them light upon the Church of England. That truly Apoftolical Church
did, for full fifty Years, allow of a Practice (and never thought of mending it,) which
according to our modern Innovators was abfolutely finful, and againſt the Law of Chriſt.
IV. The Church of England did, (for fifty Years,) fay of a Child, though baptized
by a Lay-Hand, (if baptized with the Matter and Form preſcribed by Chriſt,) theſe
very remarkable Words in the Rubric-And let them not doubt but that the Child fo
baptized, is lawfully and fufficiently baptized, and ought not to be baptized again. The
Church of England did therefore for fifty Years, think and affirm, that a Child might
be lawfully and fufficiently baptized, although it were not baptized by a lawful Minifter,
but by a Lay-Hand. How could the Church allow her Miniſter to ſay theſe Words,
even when he ſtood by the Font, and had the Child within his Reach, had ſhe ac-
counted Lay-Baptiſm to be invalid? Why ſhould not the Sponfors then have faid to
him, as the Eunuch ſaid to Philip, Here is Water, what hinders the Child to be baptized,
if it had not been fo before? See the Rubric of all the Common-Prayer-Books before 1603.
V. Again,
548
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
V. Again, The Church of England did, for fifty Years, fay thus alfo in her Rubric-
And if the Minifter fhall prove by the Anfwers of fuch that brought the Child, (i. e.
brought it to the Church, after it had been baptized by a Lay-Hand at Home,) that all
Things were done as they ought, then ſhall not be Chriften the Child again, but shall re-
ceive him as one of the Flock of the true Chriftian People, Jaying thus,
-I certify you,
that in this Cafe ye have done well, and according unto due Order, &c. Now certainly,
the Church of England could not think her Miniſter had proved that all Things were
done as they ought, if ſhe had reckoned Lay-Baptifm to be invalid. Nor could the al-
low her Miniſter to ſay to the Parents, Friends, or Sponfors of the Child, who brought
it to Church, ye have done well, and according unto due Order, if the had reckoned a
commiſſioned Adminiſtrator as eſſential to valid Baptiſm, as Water and the Form pre-
ſcribed by Chriſt. Why ſhould not the Child be chriftned by the Minifter in the
Church, if it had not been chriſtned by a private Lay-Hand at Home? Why fhould
fuch a Child be received as one of the Flock of true Chriftian People, if it were not truly
chriſtned by that Lay-Hand? And why ſhould that be faid to be done well, which (ac-
cording to the Rebaptifts Opinion,) was not done at all? Now if the Church of Eng-
land allows, and requires her Miniſter to fay all theſe Things of a Child that was bap-
tized in haſte, and in Time of Neceffity, by a Lay-Hand, as certainly as fhe allows
them to be faid of a Child that was baptized in hafte, and in Time of Neceffity, by a
Minifter of Epifcopal Ordination, is it not plain that fhe accounts Lay-Baptifm to be
good and valid, and that ſhe will not have Baptiſm reiterated upon fuch a Child? And
therefore all the Objections that Men in their hafty Zeal and indifcreet Warmths make
againſt the Practice of Lay-Baptiſm, as inconfiftent with theſe Rubrics, as calling on
the Miniſters to certify Untruths, and the like, they all of them lie very ſtrong againſt
the Church of England, for the first fifty Years, for ſhe did certainly, for all that Space
of Time, allow of Lay-Baptiſm; and when Children fo baptized were brought to
Church to have that Office compleated over them, theſe Rubrics were then uſed, this
Certification was then made by the Miniſter, and he declared that in fuch Cafe, all had
been well done, and according unto due Order: i. e. in Cafe of Neceffity, all was well
done, if the Child had been baptized with Water, and in the Name of the Father, Son,
and Holy Ghoft, and it ought not to be baptized again. Thefe Things were not at that
Time thought to be inconfiftent with the Articles; but now each Puny Writer rifes
up with
great Authority againſt that Church of England in King Edward's Days, and
thoſe of Queen Elizabeth, condemns its Judgment and its Practice, and needs will
enter on the Merits of the Caufe.
VI. The Church of England did, for fifty Years, fay in the last Rubric of private
Baptiſm; But if they which bring the Infant to the Church, make fuch uncertain
Anfwers to the Priest's Questions, that it cannot appear that the Child was baptized with
Water, in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, (which are effential Parts of
Baptifm) then let the Priest baptize it, &c. faying, If thou art not already baptized,
N. I baptize thee, &c. which is a plain Proof that ſhe accounted not the Adminiftrator
to be effential to Baptiſm; for this was the Rubric, when the Child had been baptized
by a Lay-Hand, and this was the Rubric fifty Years before the Words Lawful Mini-
fter were inferted by King James; and therefore there is no telling us, that a lawful
Miniſter had been provided for before. The Rebaptifts mind not enough thefe Diffe-
rences, but think the Rubrics were heretofore as they now ftand, and make their Infe-
rences accordingly. An Hiftorical Account therefore of theſe Changes would help, I
thought, to fet them Right in ſome Particulars: And thus much may fuffice for the
first fifty Years, all which Time (there is no denying it,) Lay-Baptifm was fo allowed
by the Church, as to be thought as valid (though not as Regular,) as the Baptiſm that
had been adminiftred by the Pariſh-Prieft, and was no more to be reiterated than his.
This
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptiſm and Diſſenters Baptiſm.
549
This was the Opinion of all the Archbishops, Biſhops, and Clergy of the Kingdom,
during that ſpace of Time; and it does not appear that any of them thought this
Practice contrary to the Articles, Rubrics, or Canons then in being, but concordant
with them all, and with the Practice of the Catholic Church of Christ, and accounted
it no Piece of Popery that wanted Reformation; and therefore I cannot chuſe but won-
der to hear the modern Innovators throw out (with equal Infolence and Ignorance) all
the hard Words they can invent againſt this Practice, without remembring that it was
allowed by the Church of England, for fifty Years together, and condemned by none
but the Puritans. The Force of this Authority hath appeared fo great, that ſome of
the Rebaptifts have thought fit to tell us, that the Lay-Baptifms, during theſe firſt fifty
Years of the Reformation, were not the Baptifms now condemned, and contended
againſt, as having been authorized by the Church; nay, even commanded by the Ru-
bric, which fays— Then one of them SHALL Name the Child, &c. fo that theſe
Lay-Baptizers feem to be thereby impowered to officiate for that Time and Circum-
ftance. I did not really think this would have been faid, but every Thing is welcome
to me that juſtifies the Church of England. But then I hope that the Men who can
fay and come into this, will alſo yield that it is in the Power of the Church to authorize
Lay-Baptiſm, in fuch Cafes as it fees convenient, and that ſuch Lay-Baptiſm is as valid
and good as if the Pariſh-Prieſt had adminiftred it, and that fuch Baptiſm muſt never
be reiterated. I hope they will alto yield, that a Lay-Baptizer, fo authorized, for that
Time and Circumſtance, is alſo a rightly commiffioned Adminiſtrator of that Sacrament:
And alſo that fuch an Authorizing of a Lay-man is not inconfiftent with, contradictory
to, nor deſtructive of the 23d Article; no, nor of the Commiffion that our bleffed Lord
gave to his Apoſtles, Go ye and teach all Nations, baptizing them, &c. Theſe Things,
I hope, will be allowed, becauſe I think they naturally follow, from allowing the Lay-
Baptiſms in the firſt fifty Years to be valid, becauſe they were authorized. But now,
it ſeems, the Cafe is altogether altered, the Lay-men and Diſſenters are utterly deſtitute
of this Plea; there is no fuch Thing as authorizing Lay-Baptifm now-a-days; the Al-
teration of the Office of private Baptifm has taken away this Power from all but lawful
Minifters, and the Diffenters who baptize without, and in Oppofition to the Epifcopal
Authority, do Nothing now (they will tell you,) but wash or fprinkle. Their Baptifm
is no Baptifm, it is to all Intents and Purpoſes null, invalid, and of no Effect; and all
fuch as have been Baptized by unepiſcopal Hands are no Chriftians, but whenever they
have a Mind to become fo, they muſt be re-baptized by a lawful Minifter. All theſe
marvellous Things were effected, by blotting out a few Words, and putting in fome
others, of which I am now going to give you ſome Account.
I. In the fecond fifty Years, at the beginning of them, in 1603, King James I. by
his own Authority (but not without adviſing with ſome of the Biſhops and other learned
Men,) changed the Rubric of Private Baptifm; and thinking the former one did
allow, permit, and countenance Lay-Baptiſm (of which he declared his utter diflike)
he commanded the Words, then one of them ſhall, &c. to be altered for theſe, the Law-
ful Minifter fhall, &c. fo that, after this Year 1603, the Lawful Minifter was the only
Adminiſtrator of Baptiſm, that was named in that Office. And ſo the Change conti-
nued till the Year 1661, upon no other Authority, than what the Kings of England
have in fuch Cafes. This Remark was made in the Judgment of the Church of Eng-
land, p. 524. and would not have been repeated here, had it not been ſaid, by R. L.
in his Anſwer to that Book, p. 30. The Opinions delivered there, (i. e. at the Conference
held at Hampton-Court) do not amount to any publick Act of the Church of England;
and p. 33. what can any one learn from all this, (the fame Conference) concerning the
Judgment of the Church of England? and p. 50. I know of no other Voice of the Church
of England, but that in Convocation, and p. 66. The Church's publick Acts can only be
found in her Determinations, agreed on by a Lawful Convocation. Now if this be ſo,
3 X x
and
550
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
and that R. L. and his Followers will abide by this Declaration, that the Church of
England ſpeaks only by Convocation, then I must tell them, that neither the Office of
Publick, nor of Private Baptiſm, were ever (that we know of) in, or before, any Con-
vocation, till 1661, The Communion Office and the Forms of Ordination were made in
a Convocation, but no other Parts of the Common-Prayer. And thereupon I fay
II. If the Voice of the Church of England be only to be heard in Convocations, then
the Rubric of Private Baptifm from 1603 to 1661, (which appoints a Lawful Mini-
fter) was not the Rubric of the Church of England, but the Rubric of King James
only, and a few private Biſhops. The Church of England then muſt be confidered as
ſpeaking only by Act of Parliament for the firft fifty Years, without a Convocation,
(except as before excepted) and for the next fifty Years, as fpeaking neither by Act of
Parliament, nor by any Convocation; and that looks like ſpeaking with no Authority at
all. It had therefore been but fair dealing for R. L. and his Followers, to have faid plainly
that a Lawful Minifter was only required Authoritatively by the Rubric, fince 1661.
III. But becauſe, it may be, others will not fay, that the Church of England is only
to be heard and hearkned to, when ſhe ſpeaks in Convocation; I will, in this diſpute,
take it for granted, that the Church of England, by order of King James I. made the
Rubric of Private Baptiſm, as it ſtood from 1603 to 1661, and then ſay, in January
1603 the Conference was held at Hampton-Court, and the Words Lawful Minifter were
inferted into the Rubric of Private Baptifm; and upon the Fifth of March following
the King put out a Proclamation, in which were theſe Words
<<
(c
"But we cannot conceal that the Succeſs of that Conference was fuch, as happeneth
"to many other things, which moving great Expectation before they be entred into,
"in their Iffue produce fmall Effects; for we found mighty and vehement Informa-
tions, fupported with ſo weak and flender Proofs, as it appeareth to us and our Coun-
cil, that there was no Caufe, why any Change fhould have been at all, in that which
was moſt impugned,- -the Book of Common-Prayer, containing the Form of
"the Publick Service of God here eſtabliſhed, neither in the Doctrine, which appeared
"to be Sincere, nor in the Forms and Rites, which were juftified out of the Practice
"of the Primitive Church. Notwithſtanding, we thought meet, with the Conſent
"of the Biſhops, and other learned Men there prefent, that fome fmall things might
" rather be explained than changed. Not that the fame might not very well have been
"born with, by Men who would have made a reaſonable Conſtruction of them, &c."
Now how could King James call this a ſmall thing, and rather an Explanation than
a Change, if he had built ſo much upon the Words Lawful Miniſter, as the Modern
Rebaptifts do? Did he account it a ſmall thing whether a Man were a Chriſtian or
no? For according to thefe New Teachers, no one can poffibly be a Chriſtian, who is
not baptized by a Lawful Minifter, Epifcopally Ordained. I do therefore bring theſe
Words of the Proclamation, in Proof that King James did not think he had done fuch
a wonderful Matter, nor made a Change of fuch Importance, by inſerting the Words
Lawful Miniſter into this Rubric, as theſe People fancy: And Dr. Barlow, who put
out the Conference in 1604, by Command of Archbiſhop Whitgift, and who bore a
part in it himſelf, fays, that this Change was not much stuck at by the Bishops, ſo that
neither King nor Biſhops (for any thing I can fee) did ever imagine fo much Weight
would be laid upon this Alteration, or that it would, more than an hundred Years after,
be brought to Unchriften the whole Proteftant World abroad, and the Twentieth Part
(I doubt) of the Subjects of England, under the Reign of his Glorious Great-grand-
daughter.
IV. But I fay farther. If the Church of England, from 1603 to 1661, by adding
the Words Lawful Minifter, did declare Lay-Baptifm to be invalid, null, and of no
effect, then the Church of England in the ſecond fifty Years, condemned the Church
of
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and Diffenters Baptifm.
551
of England for the firſt Fifty, and in effect declared it not to be a truly Reformed Apo-
ftolick Church, during King Edward's and Queen Elizabeth's Days. Let this be ho-
neſtly and plainly faid, and we ſhall know where abouts we are.
V. Again. If the Church of England, by requiring a Lawful Miniſter to confer
Baptiſm, intended only a Miniſter Epifcopally Ordained, and did thereby condemn all
other Baptiſm, as invalid, null, and of no effect, then did the Church of England con-
demn the Baptiſm of the Church of Scotland, as invalid, null, and of no effect; and
confequently condemned the Baptiſm of Prince Henry, Prince Charles (afterwards King
and Martyr) of Princeſs Elizabeth (the Mother of the Princeſs Sophia,) who together
with her Son the Elector of Hanover, and his Son alfo the Electoral Prince, and all the
Branches of that Royal Family, are all in the fame fad Condition, for want of Epifcopal
Baptifm) and of all King James's Children, who were, every one of them, Baptized
by Preſbyterian Hands, who had only Prefbyterian Ordination. I do not make this
Confequence, to create any ill Will to theſe Teachers of new Doctrines, but to fhew
them, how unlikely a thing it is, that King James (who was the Man that added the
Words Lawful Minifter) fhould intend thereby, only a Man Epifcopally Ordained,
when he knew, by a near and unavoidable Confequence, that, if that Doctrine were
true, none of his own Children were, or could be Chriftians, unless they were Re-
baptized, which he did not allow of, even when Women had baptized Children. And
who can think the Bishops, (the Biſhops who, I affure the Reader, at that Time, did
not want the ſtrongeſt Inclinations Men could have, to court the good Opinion of their
new King, and bind him to the Church) who, I fay, can think the Biſhops would not
have told the King the Confequence of fuch a Change, had they believed thoſe Words
(a Lawful Minifter) imported fuch a Change, as the Rebaptifts now think they do?
I believe it would not have mif-become any one of thofe Biſhops to have faid;-
Sir, if your Majeſty will have us inſert into this Rubric, the Words Lawful Mini-
fter, and intend thereby fuch only as are Epifcopally Ordained, and mean to ſay that
none but ſuch can Adminiſter Valid Baptifm, confider, we intreat you, what will
"be the Confequence? Whether you have a Child now in the World, that is validly
Baptized? Thoſe who Baptized your Children were themſelves both Baptized and
"Ordained by mere Presbyters, and therefore were not Lawful Miniſters, and if none
« but Lawful Minifters can confer Valid Baptifm, none of the Royal Infants have that
"Valid Baptifm."
CC
<<
<c
<<
I do not know why any one of them ought not, in Honefty and good Confcience,
to have ſaid theſe things, but that not any one of them (it is probable) believed them
to be true. Not one of them could think a Lawful Miniſter was intended to exclude
all others from being Lawful Minifters, but fuch as were Epifcopally Ordained, (that
was not the Doctrine of thoſe Days) nor did one of them believe that Baptiſm conferred
by an Unepiſcopal Hand was null, invalid, and of no effect. Theſe Doctrines were re-
ſerved for the Days we live in, when the Divine Right of Epifcopacy is carried to the
higheſt Pitch that Words can raiſe it, but the Biſhops themſelves ſo uſed as never Bi-
ſhops were, fince the Days of the Apoſtles; in this, indeed, they fare alike with thoſe
great Saints, that they are defpifed, reviled, defamed, made as the filth of the World, and
the Offscouring of all things. God forgive thoſe Men who ſet this bad Example firſt
and thoſe who have thought fit to follow it! The thing I would leave upon the Reader's
Mind here, is, that it is not at all likely, that either King James, or the Bishops, in-
tended by inſerting the Words Lawful Minifter, in this Rubric, to fay that they meant
thereby a Miniſter Epifcopally ordained only, exclufive of all others not ſo ordained;
or to ſay that Baptiſm adminiftred by one that is not a lawful Minifter, was null, in-
valid, and of no Effect, provided it were feriously adminiftred by one that uſed the
Matter and the Form preſcribed by Chrift. For this I alſo offer the following Article
to be confidered.
VI. If
552
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
VI. If the Church of England, by inferting the Words lawful Minifter, meant thereby
only one Epiſcopally ordained, then ſhe muſt contradict her own Orders, and over-
throw her own Doctrine and Defign, by admitting and inftituting, and inducting into
Pariſhes fuch Perfons as had not been Epiſcopally Ordained. But this was certainly her
Practice, during the Reigns of King James and King Charles I. and to the Year 1661.
We had many Minifters from Scotland, from France, and the Low-Countries, who
were Ordained by Presbyters only, and not Biſhops, and they were inftituted into Bene-
fices with Cure, and accordingly Baptized the Children of their ſeveral Pariſhes, and did
all other Offices of the Miniſtry, and yet were never Re-ordained, but only fubfcribed
the Articles; and both thofe Kings (who well underſtood our Church) allowed this,
and the Biſhops inſtituted them into theſe Livings, notwithſtanding the Thirty-nine
Articles, notwithſtanding the Rubrics, and notwithſtanding the Canons. How will the
Church of England anſwer this? I know not how ſhe will anſwer this, to theſe new
Guides, and thoſe who blindly follow them, but I believe all ſerious thinking People,
will imagine that the Church of England, did not by Lawful Minifters intend only ſuch
as were Epiſcopally Ordained, though principally fuch, no doubt of it. She knew,
and acknowledged fuch as were Epifcopally Ordained, to be Lawful Minifters, in the
beft Senſe, and in all the Senſes thoſe Words can bear, and would moſt heartily rejoyce,
and give God Thanks, that there were no other; and would do every thing fit and
proper for her to do, to bring that bleſſed Work to paſs. But, by her Practice, by her
Allowance, and by her Inftitutions to Pariſh Cures, of ſuch as had not been Epiſcopally
Ordained, it appears that ſhe did not exclude them from being Lawful Minifters, nor
confequently difannul, and make void the Baptifms they had conferred; which is the
thing I am contending for. And I defire thofe warm Gentlemen who are for Un-
chriſtening all People who have not been Baptized by Epiſcopal Hands, to fancy they
had lived in any Year betwixt 1603 and 1648, and known that King Charles I. was
baptized by no Epiſcopal Hand; and ſeen the Biſhops inftituting into Pariſh-Cures,
ſuch as had been ordained and baptized by mere Prefbyters, and thereby putting them
into a Neceffity of baptizing Multitudes of Children; and then think, whether they
ſhould have judged King Charles to be no Chriftian, and the Biſhops to have acted con-
trary to the Articles, Rubrics, and Canons; which is now the Charge upon all that
will not Re-baptize.
I. In 1661, which begins the laſt Period of fifty Years, there was no material Change
made in the Office, or the Rubrics of Private Baptifm, but they continued near the
fame with what they had been from 1603, only now they were authorized, and re-
ceived a new Sanction both from the Parliament and Convocation. So that now the
Church of England ſpeaks very loudly and plainly by them.
II. As for the Office of Baptizing thofe of riper Years, the Church made it entirely
New in 1661, and the Preface to the Common Prayer gives this following Account of it.
"Which (Office) though not ſo neceffary, when the former Book was compiled, yet
by the growth of Anabaptifm, through the Licentioufnefs of the late Times crept in
amongſt us, is now become neceffary; and may be always uſeful for the baptizing
"of Natives, in our Plantations, and others converted to the Faith."
cc
cc
This plainly ſhews that the Church of England had no Thoughts of Re-baptizing
the Diffenters, when it compofed this Office; but of baptizing fuch as had never been
baptized, at home, and fuch as were to be converted to Chriſtianity, in our Plantations
abroad: Theſe were the People ſhe employed her Care and Compaffion on; but for
the Diffenters, he never thought in the leaſt of making them Chriftians, but of in-
viting them into Union and Communion with the Church. She exhorted and intreated
them to leave the Separation; and fuch as did fo fhe received into her Arms with gentle-
neſs and love; ſhe received them without any Renuntiation of their Schiſm, or formal
deteftation
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptifm and Diffenters Baptifm.
553
+
!
deteftation of their Error or Offence in leaving her; fhe trufted their Sincerity of Heart,
and
put them to no confufion of Face: She received their Children to Confirmation
without exception or diſtinction, juſt as ſhe did the Children of ſuch as had been bap-
tized in her Bofom, and had never ftrayed from it. This was the Temper of the Bi-
ſhops then, and then, if ever, was the Time the Biſhops fhould have ſpoken out, and
ſhould have told the Diffenters, and ſhould have ordered their Clergy to have told the
Diffenters, both from the Pulpit and the Preſs, both at Church and at Home, that they
wanted the very Foundation of Chriſtianity, both they and their Children, namely Bap-
tiſm: They might indeed have been washed or sprinkled, but they had never been bap-
tized. They who pretended to Baptize, were no Lawful Miniflers, they had not been
Epifcopally Ordained, they were as errant Laicks, as the Shopkeepers; nor were their
Baptiſms authorized, as having been conferred not only without, but in Oppofition to the
Church, and in a State of an unwarrantable Exclufion of the Sacred Order of Biſhops;
therefore their Baptiſm was not valid; therefore they muſt begin their Race of Chrifti-
anity again, and ſet out at the proper Place, namely at Baptiſm. Will
Will any Man in the
Kingdom fay, that the Baptifms conferred by diffenting Teachers, (Ordained by Pref
byters alone) from 1650, to 1660, were not as unauthorized, and as Antiepifcopal Bap-
tiſms, as any now-a-days can be? And yet the College of Biſhops fhould not fay a
Word to the Matter; not one of that venerable Body open his Mouth againſt them,
nor order any of the Lower Clergy to convince the Diffenters, that for want of valid
Baptiſm, they were in a State of uncovenanted Mercy! I for my own part, have fo
good an Opinion of the Learning, Virtue, and Religion, of that Sett of Biſhops, that I
think they muſt and would have declared againſt the Validity of thoſe Antiepiſcopal, un-
authorized Baptiſms, had they believed them to be indeed null and invalid; and it muſt
needs be one of the hardeſt and moſt unkind Reflections on their Memory, to fay they
were afraid of ſtirring up bad humours again, and had * the Fate of Archbishop Laud
before their Eyes, and dreaded the Fanatic Rage, that made fuch Work before on leffer
Occafions than this; that they might be intimidated, as St. Peter, and carried away
like Barnabas, with the like Excufes. This is a very bad Account of the Behaviour of
the Biſhops, after the Reftoration, and makes not at all for their Honour. Whether a
Man, living in the midſt of a Chriſtian Kingdom, be a Chriſtian or no, is not a light
Matter, but of the greateſt Moment in the World, his everlaſting ſafety depends upon
it, and the Miniſter to whoſe charge he properly belongs, is certainly obliged to ac-
quaint him with his danger, in cafe he know it not; and could you fay a worſe thing
of this Miniſter, than that he knowingly fuffered a Man to live and dye unbaptized,
without ſo much as warning him of his Danger? The Diffenters believed their Children
(who had been baptized between 1650, and 1660) to be indeed Chriftians; and when,
at the Reſtoration, the Biſhops were alſo reſtored to their Sees, and the Epifcopal Clergy
filled all the Pariſh-Churches in England, was it not then the Time to have expected to
hear from one, or the other, or both, that their Children were not Chriſtians, and muſt
be made fo by lawful Miniſters of Epiſcopal Ordination? And hearing nothing on this
Head, and feeing thofe Children admitted to Confirmations by the Biſhops, how could
they help concluding their Children had been rightly baptized? If this general Silence
of the Church, this Acquiefcence of the Clergy, and this fubfequent Practice of the
Biſhops, in confirming the Children indiftinctly, be not a good proof of the Church's
believing fuch unauthorized Baptiſms to be valid, it will be hard to find out what can
be a Proof. This Defence I could not refuſe to the Memory of thoſe Biſhops, but the
Point I aimed at, was to fhew that the New Form of Baptifm for grown-up Perfons, was
defigned for fuch as never pretended to have been baptized, and not for the Diffenters.
Nor is it for the Diffenters fake, that I take theſe pains; (for they neither care for, nor
* Diffenters Baptiſm null and void, p. 52.
3 Y y
make
$54
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
make uſe of this Defence, but account their Ordinations and their Baptifms equally good
with thoſe of Biſhops;) but it is for the Church of England's fake that I now Write,
that never did, nor would admit, much lefs injoyn, her Clergy to Re-baptize fuch as
had been before baptized with the Matter and Form preſcribed by Chriſt, upon pretence
that Baptiſm had not been conferred by a Lawful Miniſter.
III. In 1661, a great Change indeed was made in the Preface to the Forms of Ordi-
nation, of which thefe Innovators have made much uſe in their Diſputes about Lay-
baptifm. The Reader muſt firſt ſee how the Preface ſtood from 1559, to 1661, and
then how it was changed, and what was added in 1661.
<<
<c
<c
Thus then it ſtood for one hundred and two Years.
"It is evident unto all Men diligently reading holy Scriptures, and Antient Authors,
"that from the Apoſtles Time, there hath been theſe Orders of Miniſters in Chriſt's
Church, Biſhops, Prieſts, and Deacons, which Offices were evermore had in fuch
reverent Eſtimation, that no Man [by his own private Authority] might prefume to
execute any of them, except he were firſt called, tried, examined, and known to
"have fuch Qualities, as were requifite for the fame, and alfo by publick Prayer,
"with Impofition of Hands, approved and admitted thereunto by Lawful Authority.
"And therefore to the intent theſe Orders And therefore to the intent that theſe Orders
"fhould be continued, and reverently ufed may be continued and reverently used, and
"and eſteemed in this Church of England, esteemed in the Church of England, no Man
"it is requifite that no Man (not being at ſhall be accounted, or taken, to be a lawful
"this preſent, Biſhop, Prieft, or Deacon) Biſhop, Prieft, or Deacon, in the Church
"ſhall execute any of them, except he be of England, or fuffered to execute any of the
called, tried, examined, and admitted, faid Functions, except he be called, tried, exa-
according to the Form hereafter fol-[mined, and admitted thereunto according to
lowing.
(c
<<
Note, the Words within the Crotchets [ ]
were left out in 1661.
the Form hereafter following, or bath had for-
merly, Epifcopal Confecration or Ordination.
All that is Printed in Italick, was the
Change made in 1661.
The Uſe which the Rebaptifts make of this Preface, thus altered, is this-The
Church of England requires a lawful Minifter to be the Adminiftrator of Baptifm: The
Church of England calls no one a lawful Minifter, but him who is Epifcopally ordained:
Therefore the Church of England declares the Baptiſm of all Perfons not adminiftred
by Epiſcopal Hands, to be invalid, null, and of no Effect.
IV. To this Argument, I think, the following Anſwer may be made out of what has
been before faid. 1. The Church of England did, for her first fifty Years, allow of
Baptiſm, adminiftred by neither Biſhop, Prieſt, nor Deacon: And faid a Child fo bap-
tized, was lawfully and fufficiently baptized, and ought not to be baptized again.
2. The Church of England did, in her next fifty Years, call for a lawful Minifter to
baptize Children; but ſhe did not fay, all that while, that they who were not Epifco-
pally ordained were not lawful Minifters: For fhe admitted, and inſtituted into Pariſh-
Cures, fuch as had not been Epiſcopally ordained, and conſequently admitted their Bap-
tiſms to be good and valid; or elfe ſhe was very unfaithful to her Lord, and cruel to her
Children. But (3.) It is not a due, nor juft, much lefs a neceffary Confequence, that
becauſe the Church of England calls for a lawful Minifter to baptize, and calls none in
the Church of England a lawful Minifter but him who is Epifcopally ordained, the
ſhould therefore account no Baptiſm valid but ſuch as is adminiftred by an Epiſcopal
Hand. It will indeed follow, that ſhe would fain have no other Baptiſm but that: She
afks, fhe wiſhes, for no other but that: She calls no other lawful but that, becauſe the
Laws
in the Cafe of Lay-Baptiſm and of Diffenters Baptifm.
555
Laws of the Church and of the State have appointed and commanded that, and none
but that; and that is moſt agreeable to the Rules and Practice of the antient Church
from the Time of the Apoſtles. But ſhe does not therefore account all other Baptifm
to be invalid, null, and of no Effect: She takes what Care ſhe can of her own Chil-
dren, and would by all Means keep them in the Ways of Regularity and Order; but
ſhe does not thereby condemn all others that walk not by her Rules. She will have no
Man accounted a Prieft or Deacon, but who is or has been ordained by Bishops, but
this is in the Church of England: They fhall not exerciſe the Functions of either Prieſt
or Deacon, but this is in the Church of England. This excludes the Presbyters of
France, Germany, Scotland, Holland, and of all other Proteftant Countries, from hold-
ing any Benefices, Dignities, or Promotions, and from exercifing the Functions of Preſ-
byters, in the Church of England, unleſs they be, or have been ordained by Biſhops of
the Latin, or Greek, or of our own Church. She would heretofore, in voto, in Defire,
have had no other Paſtors and Curates, but fuch as were Epifcopally ordained; he was
in the Right of it; that was according to the antient Rule and Practice; but ſhe did
not condemn all others not fo ordained, nor exclude them from exercifing the Functions
of Preſbyters, even in the Church of England. The Cafe is now fomewhat altered;
the now excludes them all, but ſhe does not thereby condemn them. She will have none
of them baptize in England, but does the thereby diſannul (in her Judgment and Opi-
nion I mean) the Baptiſms of all thoſe Countries that are adminiftred by Prefbyters?
Was it ever underſtood, that if a French, Helvetic, German, Scottiſh, or Dutch Pref
byter ſhould defire to communicate with the Church of England, he was to be firſt bap-
tized? If he defire to be a Clergyman, and hold a Benefice, or obtain a Dignity in the
Church of England, he muſt indeed be ordained, according to the English Form, or
by fome Epiſcopal Hand elſewhere, for that has been the Law ever fince 1661; and
no one fince that Time can be accounted a lawful Minifter, but fuch a one. But does
it follow from hence, that all the Children they had formerly baptized, were not Chri-
ftians? This is a Confequence indeed made by theſe Rebaptifts, but this Confequence is
not made by the Church of England: She may make what Laws and Rules fhe thinks
fit for thoſe of her own Communion, and may appropriate her Revenues, and all her
Secular Advantages to whom the pleaſes, and upon what Terms and Conditions ſhe
will; but ſhe cannot pretend to invalidate the Orders and the Miniſtrations of other
People, with whom ſhe has nothing to do: Nor did the ever pretend to null
any of
their Baptiſms, which is the thing I am ſolely concerned about. Has not my Lord
Biſhop of London, have not ſeveral other Biſhops, both heretofore and lately, ordained
feveral Protestants from abroad, and ſeveral of our own Diffenting Miniſters at home;
have they not, I fay, ordained thefe People, without baptizing them a-new? They
would not admit them to be Minifters in the Church of England, without ordaining
them by the English Form, (becauſe the Laws both of Church and State have forbid it,
ever fince 1661,) but they took them to be Chriftians (though baptized by Prefbyterian
Hands) or elſe they would not, I prefume, have ordained them; for when was it heard,
either of old or late, that a Man could be ordained a Prieſt, who had not been Bap-
tized? Orders fuppofe a Man to be a Chriſtian already, but they do not make him one;
for if they did, a Man might be a Chriſtian without being baptized with Water, and-
without being baptized in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoſt, and (which
it ſeems is full as bad) without having the Matter and Form applied by an Epiſcopal
Hand, i. e. without any one of the three Effentials of Baptifm (according to the new
Scheme) a Man might be a good Chriſtian. I have heard of People's being baptized in
their Blood, i. e. made, or rather accounted, Chriftians, by fuffering Martyrdom for
Chriſt but I have never heard that the Rites of Ordination did ever confer the Sacra-
ment of Baptifm. That remains for our Rebaptifts to urge in Favour of fuch Clergy-
men,
556
The Judgment of the Church of ENGLAND
t
men, (either old or new Profelytes) as were fo unhappy as to be baptized by Diffenters,
but put into Holy Orders by the Biſhops, without baptizing them a-new. But though
there be no End of extravagant Abfurdities, which will multiply every Hour, upon theſe
new Teachers, and that it would puzzle the wiſeſt Head in the Kingdom to tell us how.
far theſe Ecclefiaftical Projectors will carry us, and where they will ftop; yet fince they
have not as yet afferted openly that Epifcopal Ordination will fupply the Defect of valid
Baptiſm, fince, I ſay, they have not yet proceeded thus far, I defire them to call upon
theſe worthy Biſhops, who have at any Time ordained diffenting Teachers, or any People
elſe who were baptized by Diffenters, and humbly afk their Reaſons why they did not
firſt baptize them, and make them Chriſtians before they ordained them, and invefted
them with the Power to baptize and make others Chriſtians, and all this in Contradiction
and Defiance of the Articles, the Rubrics and the Canons, which are, it ſeems, fo plain
in Favour of Re-baptizing all fuch as were not baptized by Epifcopal Hands? When
the Biſhops have given their Reaſons for this Practice of theirs, we fhall be able to judge
whether the Bishops or the Rebaptifts are in the Right, and govern our felves accordingly.
But till I ſee their Lordships change their Practice in this Particular, and refufe to ordain
either Foreigners from abroad, or Diffenters at home, without baptizing them a-new;
till I hear they refuſe to confirm the Children of Diffenters, who were baptized by Dif-
fenters; till I hear they order their Clergy, both by Preaching, Writing, and Difcour-
fing, to tell their Congregations, that unleſs they have been baptized by Epifcopal Hands,
they are not Chriftians, they must not come to the bleffed Sacrament, they ought not to
be married by the appointed Form, which fuppofes both Parties to be Chriftians, nor
can they, or ought they, to have Chriftian Burial, the Rubric (confirmed by Parlia-
ment and Convocation) exprefly excluding unbaptized Perfons;. till I hear they order
their Chancellors, Officials, Surrogates, and all that belong to the Court-Chriftian, to
leave off excommunicating Diffenters that never were baptized, i. e. to leave off a
a Practice ridiculous, fcandalous, and almoſt blafphemous, namely, the folemnly cut-
ting off from the Body of Chrift, fuch as they fay were never Members of it; the ex-
communicating People who never could have been in their Communion, for want of
that which is to initiate all Men into Chrift's Church, i. e. Baptifm; till I hear the Gen-
tlemen of Doctors Commons have Orders to excommunicate Jews, Turks and Infidels,
(which they may do as well as Diffenters, if they are not really baptized :) In a Word,
till I hear the Biſhops fay and do in theſe Cafes, what certainly becomes Church-Go-
vernours of Learning, Virtue, Conſcience, and Religion, to fay and do, were they in-
deed perfwaded that the Diffenters were not Chriſtians for want of Epiſcopal Baptiſm :
Till I can hear and fee this, I will ftill believe that it is the Judgment of the Church of
England, that Lay-Baptifm feriously conferred in Matter and Form preſcribed by Chriſt,
is not to be reiterated, although it was irregular for want of a proper Adminiftrator.
And when I fee it is well proved, that the Church of England is of another Judgment,
it will be Time enough to enter into the Merits of the Caufe. At preſent I am humble
enough to depend upon the Church's Judgment, collected from her conftant Practice in
fome Cafes, and from her as conftant Silence in others; and do believe in my Heart that
both of them are concordant with the Judgment and the Practice of the Catholic Church
of Chrift, and very confiftent with her own Articles, Rubrics, and Canons.
Four
557
Four SERMONS: I. On the Death of Queen
MARY, 1694. II. On the Death of the Duke of
GLOUCESTER, 1700. III. On the Death of
King WILLIAM, 1701. IV. On the QUEEN'S
1703.
Acceffion to the Throne, in
PREFACE.
T
HE publiſhing a few Sermons, whilft I live, the lateſt of which was
preached above eight Years fince, and the firſt above Seventeen, will make it
very natural for People to inquire into the Occafion of doing fo: And to fuch
I do very willingly affign theſe following Reaſons.
First, From the Obfervations I have been able to make, for theſe many Years laſt
paſt, upon our publick Affairs; and from the natural Tendency of feveral Principles
and Practices, that have, of late, been ftudiouſly revived, and from what has followed
thereupon, I could not help both fearing and prefaging, that theſe Nations would, fome
Time or other, if ever we ſhould have an enterprizing Prince upon the Throne, of
more Ambition than Virtue, Juftice, and true Honour, fall into the Way of all other
Nations, and loſe their Liberty.
Nor could I help foreſeeing to whofe Charge a great deal of this dreadful Miſchief,
whenever it ſhould happen, would be laid, whether juftly or unjustly was not my Bufi-
neſs to determine; but I reſolved, for my own particular Part, to deliver my ſelf, as
well as I could, from the Reproaches and the Curſes of Pofterity, by publickly decla-
ring to all the World, that although in the conſtant Courſe of my Miniftry, I have ne-
ver failed, on proper Occafions, to recommend, urge, and infift upon, the loving,
honouring, and the reverencing the Prince's Perfon, and holding it according to the
Laws, inviolable and facred, and paying all Obedience and Submiffion to the Laws,
though never ſo hard and inconvenient to private People: Yet did I never think
my
felf at Liberty, or authorized, to tell the People, that either Chrift, St. Peter, or
St. Paul, or any other holy Writer, had, by any Doctrine delivered by them, fubverted
the Laws and Conftitutions of the Country, in which they lived; or put them in a
worſe Condition, with reſpect to their civil Liberties, than they would have been, had
they not been Chriftians. I ever thought it a moſt impious Blafphemy againſt that
Holy Religion, to father any thing upon it, that might encourage Tyranny, Oppreffi-
on, or Injuſtice, in a Prince; or that eaſily tended to make a free, and happy People,
Slaves, and miferable. No : People may make themſelves as wretched as they will;
but let not God be called into that wicked Party. When Force, and Violence, and hard
Neceffity, have brought the Yoak of Servitude upon a People's Neck, Religion will
ſupply them with a patient and fubmiffive Spirit under it, till they can innocently ſhake
it off: But certainly Religion never puts it on. This always was, and this at prefent is,
my Judgment of theſe Matters: And I would be tranfinitted to Pofterity (for the little
Share of Time ſuch Names as mine can live) under the Character of one who loved
his Country, and would be thought a good Engliſhman, as well as a good Clergyman.
3 Z z
This
558
PREFACE.
This Character I thought would be tranfmitted, by the following Sermons, which
were made for, and preached in a private Audience, when I could think of nothing
elfe but doing my Duty on the Occafions that were then offered by God's Providence,
without any Manner of Deſign of making them publick: And, for that Reaſon, I
give them now, as they were then delivered. By which I hope to fatisfie thofe People
who have objected a Change of Principles to Me, as if I were not now the fame Man
I formerly was. I never had but one Opinion of thefe Matters; and that I think is fo
reaſonable and well grounded, that I believe I never can have any other.
Another Reaſon of my publiſhing thefe Sermons, at this time, is, that I have a
Mind to do my felf fome Honour, by doing what Honour I could to the Memory of
two moſt excellent Princes, and who have very highly deferved at the Hands of all the
People of theſe Dominions, who have any true Value for the Proteftant Religion and
the Conftitution of the English Government, of which they were the great Deliverers,
and Defenders. I have lived to ſee their illuſtrious Names very rudely handled, and the
great Benefits they did this Nation, treated flightly and contemptuously. I have lived
to ſee our Deliverance from Arbitrary Power, and Popery, traduced and vilified by
fome who formerly thought it was their greateſt Merit, and made it Part of their Boaft
and Glory, to have had a little Hand and Share in bringing it about: And others who,
without it, muſt have lived in Exile, Poverty, and Mifery, meanly difclaiming it, and
ufing ill the Glorious Inftrument thereof. Who could expect fuch a Requital of fuch
Merit? I have, I own it, an Ambition of exempting my felf from the Number of un-
thankful People. And as I loved and honoured thoſe great Princes living, and lamented
over them when dead, fo I would gladly raiſe them up a Monument of Praiſe, as laſt-
ing as any Thing of mine can be; and I chooſe to do it at this Time, when it is fo
unfaſhionable a Thing to ſpeak honourably of them.
The Sermon that was preached upon the Duke of Gloucester's Death, was printed
quickly after, and is now, becauſe the Subject was fo fuitable, joined to the others.
The Lofs of that moſt promiſing and hopeful Prince was, at that Time, I ſaw, un-
fpeakably great; and many Accidents fince have convinced us, that it could not have
been over-valued. That precious Life, had it pleafed God to have prolonged it to the
ufual Space, had faved us many Fears, and Jealoufies, and dark Diftrufts, and prevented
many Alarms, that have long kept us, and will keep us ftill, waking and uneafy. No-
thing remained to comfort and ſupport us, under this heavy Stroke, but the Neceffity
it brought the King and Nation under, of fettling the Succeffion in the Houfe of
HANOVER, and giving it an Hereditary Right, by Act of Parliament, as long as it
continues Proteftant. So much Good did God, in his merciful Providence, produce
from a Misfortune, which we could never otherwiſe have fufficiently deplored.
The fourth Sermon was preached upon the Queen's Acceffion to the Throne, and in
the firſt Year in which that Day was folemnly obferved (for by fome Accident or other,
it had been over-looked the Year before) and every one will fee, without the Date of
it, that it was preached very early in this Reign, fince I was able only to promife and
prefage its future Glories and Succeffes, from the good Appearances of Things, and the
happy Turn our Affairs began to take; and could not then count up the Victories and
Triumphs that, for ſeven Years after, made it, in the Prophet's Language, a Name,
and a Praife among all the People of the Earth. Never did feven fuch Years together
paſs over the Head of any English Monarch, nor cover it with fo much Honour: The
Crown and Sceptre feemed to be the Queen's leaft Ornaments. Thofe, other Princes
wore in common with her: And Her great Perſonal Virtues were the ſame before, and
fince. But fuch was the Fame of Her Adminiftration of Affairs at home; fuch was
the Reputation of Her Wiſdom and Felicity in chooſing Minifters; and fuch was then
eſteemed their Faithfulneſs and Zeal, their Diligence and great Abilities in executing
Her
PREFACE.
559
Her Commands: To fuch a Height of military Glory did Her Great General and Her
Armies carry the Britiſh Name abroad: Such was the Harmony and Concord betwixt
Her and Her Allies: And fuch was the Bleffing of God upon all Her Counſels and
Undertakings, that I am as fure as Hiſtory can make me, no Prince of Ours was ever
yet ſo profperous and fucceſsful, fo loved, eſteemed, and honoured, by their Subjects
and their Friends, nor near fo formidable to their Enemies. We were, as all the World
imagined then, juſt entring on the Ways that promiſed to lead to fuch a Peace, as
would have anſwered all the Prayers of our religious Queen, the Care and Vigilance of
a moſt able Miniſtry, the Payments of a willing and obedient People, as well as all the
glorious Toils and Hazards of the Soldiery; when God, for our Sins, permitted the
Spitit of Difcord to go forth, and, by troubling fore the Camp, the City, and the
Country, (and oh that it had altogether ſpared the Places facred to his Worſhip!) to
fpoil, for a Time, this beautiful and pleafing Profpect; and give us, in its Stead, I
know not what- -Our Enemies will tell the reft with Pleafure. It will become me
better to pray to God to reſtore us to the Power of obtaining ſuch a Peace, as will be to
his Glory, the Safety, Honour and the Welfare of the Queen and Her Dominions, and
the general Satisfaction of all Her High and Mighty Allies.
MAY 2, 1712.
1
1
1
་
A SERMON
560
A
SERMON
Preached on the Death of Queen MARY, at St. Au-
ftins, in 1694.
2 CHRON. Chap. XXXV. Part of the 24th and 25th Verſes.
And all Judah and Jerufalem mourned for Jofiah, and Jeremiah la-
mented for Jofiah.
T
HE Mourning for this good Prince was fo great, fo univerfal, and unfeign-
ed, that it became a Pattern to the future Times, and the Standard, as it
were, for publick Sorrows; infomuch that when the Spirit of God would de-
ſcribe the greateſt Mourning, by the Prophet Zachariah, chap. xii, after he
has faid―They ſhall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only Son, and ſhall be in
Bitterness for him, as one that is in Bitterness for his Firſt-born: As if this were yet
too little, the Prophet adds in the 11th Verfe, In that Day, there fhall be a great Mourn-
ing in Jerufalem, as the Mourning of Hadadrimmon in the Valley of Megiddon, which
was the Place where good Jofiah received his Death's Wound. The Foundation of
this is laid down in the Words of the Text, And all Judah and Jerufalem mourned for
Jofiah, and Jeremiah lamented for him. All in a Word, of whatſoever Place, City or
Country, State and Quality, that either loved their Nation or Religion, monrned for
Jofiah. Jofiah was the good Son of a very bad Father, a young and vain Creature, that
fold himſelf to Wickedness, that facrificed to all the carved Images, and trefpaffed more
and more, and was cut off untimely by his own Servants, whofe Death was indeed
moft justly revenged by the People of the Land, but not lamented. Jofiah, contrary to
all this, while he was yet young, began to feek after the God of David his Father (not of
his Father Amon) and did that which was right in the Sight of the Lord, and declined
neither to the right Hand nor to the left; He deſtroyed Idolatry, and took Order for the
repairing of the Temple of God. The King alfo ftood in his Place, and made a Covenant
before the Lord, to walk after the Lord, and to keep his Commandments and his Teftimo-
nies and his Statutes with all his Heart and with all his Soul, to perform the Words of
the Covenant which are written in the Book. And leaſt his own Example fhould not
be of Influence enough, he uſed his Regal Power, and caufed all that were prefent at
Jerufalem and Benjamin to ſtand to it. And the Inhabitants of Jerufalem did according
to the Covenant of God, the God of their Fathers. And Jofiah took away all the Abomi-
nations out of all the Countries, that pertained to the Children of Ifrael, and made all
that were preſent in Ifrael, to ferve, even to ferve the Lord their God. And all his Days
they departed not from following the Lord the God of their Fathers. Thefe were the
good things Jofiah did; he was exceeding virtuous and religious himſelf, and he endca-
voured,
A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY. 551
voured, not only by Example, but by his Power and Authority, to make his People and
Subjects fo allo. This moved them fo unfeignedly and univerfally to mourn his Lofs: But
this was not all, for the People knew that God had threatned dreadful Evils to all the
Nation, and refpited them only for Jofiah's Sake. Behold, faith the Lord, I will
ga-
ther thee to thy Fathers, and thou shalt be gathered to thy Grave in Peace, neither hall
thine Eyes fee all the Evil that I will bring upon this Place, and upon the Inhabitants of
the fame. And knowing this, they could not chooſe but be concerned exceedingly for
his Death. They were greatly bleffed and benefited by his Life, and were like to
fuffer greatly by his Death. No Wonder therefore, if Jeruſalem and Judah, Fere-
miah, and all good People, mourned and lamented for Jofiah. A good King is of
ineſtimable Value: And the Truth of it is, theſe poor People had had ſo many bad,
or at leaſt indifferent ones, that a worfer Prince by a great deal than Jofiah, would
have made a good Figure, and have been both beloved whilft living, and bewailed
when dead. For it was with Judah, as it is with other Nations; fuch as the King is,
fuch will, generally, the People be. Under an idolatrous Prince, the People uſually
inclined to be idolatrous; and when a Prince did that which was right in the Sight of
the Lord, the People generally conformed and did the fame. This fhews, of what
Advantage and Importance it is, to have a virtuous and religious Prince upon the
Throne. It is, in a Manner, crowning Virtue and Religion with him; for they will
alſo reign as well as he. Even they who are truly good and virtuous upon Principles,
and would be fo, in ſpite of all Diſcouragement, of Cuſtom, and Example, of Scorn,
Diſhoncur, and, it may be, to their great Lofs, even theſe are bettered by a good
Example from above; they proſecute their good Deſigns, they continue in their vir-
tuous Courſes, with much more Joy, more Heart and Life, when fo encouraged.
The Cold, the Lukewarm and Indifferent, are heated often, by a great Example, into
a generous Emulation, and riſe up to a Pitch above themſelves. Even they who are
by Inclination wicked, rude, and irreligious, do yet learn Decency, Civility, and
fome good Manners, from a great Example. The Countenance that Piety and good
Morality find from great Superiours, reftrains a great many brutal Outrages that would
be offered to them both, by vile Inferiours, and keeps fome Men from impudent and
fcandalous Offences; fo that the Face of Honefty and Goodneſs is kept up, where
there is nothing of the Subftance left; which good Appearance is not wholly uſeleſs.
No one can fay (I doubt) that a good Example is of equal Power and Influence with
a bad one for the Corruption of our Heart is great, and ſtronger are our Inclinations
to Evil than Good, and it is eaſier much to diffemble being virtuous and religious,
than to be truly fuch; but a good Example does not want much of the Power and
Influence of a bad one, as to Mens external and publick Behaviour; They will be
as careful to appear religious (if Religion be encouraged by the Example and pub-
lick Practice of the Prince) as they would be ready to be indeed wicked, were the
Prince fo, and would encourage them to follow him. So that next to the being truly
virtuous and religious, it were for the Good of a Nation, that a Prince would out-
wardly at leaſt appear ſo, even for Example's Sake, and I mean his own Good as well
as that of his People, even the Profperity of his Affairs. And if the very Counte-
nance, and Face of Virtue, and Religion be of fuch Ufe, what would the Truth and
Subſtance of them do? It is on this Account, I think, that we are bid ſo often to
make Prayers and Supplications for Kings and Governours, the Welfare of the World
depends fo much in general on their Virtue and Goodneſs. It is not for a Compli-
ment of Honour, nor for their Sakes alone, that we are bid to pray continually, that
God would fo repleniſh our Princes with the Grace of his holy Spirit, that they may
always incline to his Will, and walk in his Way; that he would endue them plenteouſly
with his heavenly Gifts, and enrich them with his Grace. It is not for their Sakes only,
3 A a a
but
562 A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY.
but for our own alfo, that we thus pray. For it is by theſe his Gifts and Graces, we
hope they will be enabled to make both themſelves and us happy; that under them we
may lead our Lives in all Godliness and Honeſty, in Peace and Quiet. And what a
fearful Condition are the People in, when they to whom they are entruſted, have not
the Fear of God before them? When they who are ordained of God to be a Terror
to evil Works, are a Terror to the Good? When they who by Appointment are the
Minifters of God to us for Good, and Revengers to execute Wrath upon him that
doeth Evil, and are ordained of God to attend continually upon this very thing, fhall
think of nothing lefs, but give themſelves to all Injuftice, Violence, and Oppreffion,
and live as if the World of Subjects were their Slaves, and were not to be treated with
Humanity and Equity? As if they utterly forgot, or rather never had thought upon,
the very End of their Inſtitution and Appointment, which is the Preſervation of the
World in Peace and Order, for they are fent, faith St. Peter, 1 Epiſt. ii. 14. for the Pu-
nishment of evil Doers, and for the Praiſe of them that do well. It is undoubtedly, a
heavy thing for People to fall into fuch Hands of Wickedneſs: To be governed by
fuch Princes, as know not why they are the Princes of fuch a People, but becauſe
they were born of Princely Parents; and know no other uſe of Wealth and Power,
but living vainly and luxurioufly, and tyrannizing over innocent and quiet People:
Such Princes do but ill refemble God, whofe Minifters and Vicegerents they are on
Earth; for he appoints them for the beſt of Ends and Purpoſes, the Good of their re-
ſpective People; and when they leave confidering and confulting that, they forget the
principal End of God's Ordinance and Inſtitution of Government.
It is the greateſt
Praiſe and Honour we can pay to a religious, juft, and virtuous Prince, to repreſent
how odious both to God and all good Men, how mischievous to Mankind, and how
deſtructive of the End of Government, a wicked and ungodly Prince is; for one is the
Foil to the other, and fets him off with all Advantage: He is, as it
were, the
the guardian
Angel of his Kingdom, ſtill watching over it for good, and ſtill defending it from Mif-
chief; whereas the other is but as an evil Spirit, powerful only to do Miſchief, and
doing it, moſt commonly, where he ſhould do moft Good, to innocent and honeſt
People. The Confideration of theſe evil Governours, cannot chufe but raiſe the Cha-
racter and Value of good ones; and by the univerſal and unfeigned Mourning for Jo-
fiah, we may conclude, without all Doubt and Scruple, that he was a good King, as
well as a good Jew, that he was juſt and faithful to his Charge, a Lover of his Na-
tion, and a true Father of his People, as well as a devout religious worshipper of God,
and zealous for his Honour. For though whilſt Princes live, and are in Power, the
People are reftrained by Fear, and Penal Laws (and that exceeding reaſonably and
juſtly) from ſpeaking Evil of them; from outwardly expreffing either their Hatred or
Contempt of wicked and unrighteous Governours; although (I ſay) they are with-
held from this (which would indeed deſtroy and put an End to all good Government)
whilſt Princes are alive, and well, yet when they come to die (as die they will, and
fall like other Men) then it is utterly impoffible to keep the Tongues of People in, or
hinder them from fhewing what they thought before: They will diffemble then no
longer; Death equals them in this as well as other Reſpects, with every Body elſe;
Men freely fay their Minds of them, and give them Fame and Reputation as they
think they have deſerved. And I believe there is no certainer Indication of the Juftice
or Violence of a Reign paſt, than the Concern that is fhewn at the Prince's Death,
not by the external Garb and Faſhion, the Colour, and Solemnity of Pace, and Coun-
tenance, but by the Voice and Sorrows of the People, which never will be univerfal
and unfeigned, but when there is a true Occafion offered them, when they have loft
a true Friend, a juft, affectionate, and careful Governour. Such, I believe, there is no
doubt, but that the univerfal Mourning for Jofiah, fhewed him to be: When Judah,
and
A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY.
563
and Jerufalem, and Jeremiah lamented for him, it will amply prove he was a good
Prince, and one that ſtudied much the Welfare of the Nation, and the City, as well as
that he laid the Intereſts of Religion and God's Service and the Prophet, clofely to his
Heart; and this will alſo help to prove he was a good King. For there is nothing like
Religion and the Fear of God, that makes Men careful of advancing and procuring the
general Good and Benefit of Mankind; nothing inclines Men to confider more the
Ends they are defigned to anſwer and fulfil; nothing difpofes them better to Juftice
and Mercy, to Temperance and Moderation, and all good Qualities that help to make
good Governours. Religion does not always make Men wife with the Wiſdom of this
World, but yet Religion fets Men upon getting as much of that as they find neceffary
to the well diſcharging of their feveral Duties, and is confiftent with Religion; and
more than that will never be neceffary; Religion will not make a King, nor fuffer him
to be, flothful and neglectful of the Means and Methods that are juſt and fit to pro-
cure the Advantage of his People. Religion will not barely permit, but it will excite
him to fuch prudent and diſcreet Management as will fuffice to make himſelf and Peo-
ple happy. As for that crafty Over-reach, that extraordinary Refinement upon Poli-
ticks, that Readineſs of promifing every thing that is demanded, and that Eafinefs of
breaking all the Bonds and Oaths that tye Society, and keep this World in Peace and
Órder, I own Religion is an Enemy to this, and will not let a Prince engage in
in any
ſuch ungodly Wiſdom. But few, if any, are the Kings that have miſcarried through
the Tenderneſs of being falfe to God or Man; of doing Violence to common Honeſty,
and Juſtice and Religion. This wicked Wiſdom of this wicked World, has fometimes
ſerved a preſent Turn, it has fometimes delivered from a prefent, or impendent Mif-
chief, and gained fometimes a wanted and defired Advantage. But this is for the pre-
fent only: It does not ſerve them long; a little Time difcovers the Deceit; and the
reſt of the World are but thereby the more alarmed, and cautioned into a Jealouſy
and Watchfulneſs againſt them. It is with Princes, as with private Men; one may
deceive another, by Pretences of Sincerity and Truth, by fair and fpecious Promiſes,
and by Appearance of great Honefty and Juſtice; he may deceive his Neighbour, cre-
dulous, and open-hearted, to his great Damage, it may be, his Undoing. But after
all, this is not Wiſdom, this is but a Fetch for the preſent, this Skill will fail him, in
the next Experiment; all that have heard of his Dexterity, will fhun the dealing with
him; and apprehend themſelves unfafe in fuch Man's Company, or they will treat with
him with fo much Watchfulneſs, fuch Sharpneſs and Sufpicion, that he ſhall find him-
felf diſcovered and laid open, unable to procure the Advantages he otherwiſe might rea-
ſonably have looked for, and be counted as a common Enemy. It is no otherwiſe (as
far as fuch as we can fee) with Kings and Princes: They who have fhewn themſelves
unjuſt and violent, faithlefs and perjured once; are never truſted more, without Secu-
rity and Pledge; they are looked upon as always ready to do what they have once
done; and therefore all their Neighbours grow fufpicious, deal with them conſtantly as
if they were defigning nought but Miſchief, endeavouring to deprive them of the Power
of doing it, whoſe Will they think is always bent that Way, and nothing wanting but
the Opportunity. So that upon the Whole, a juſt, a virtuous and religious Prince, is
like to find much better Terms, be better truſted and believed by all his Neighbours, in
Confidence of fuch his Probity and Honour, than others, that have falfified their Faith,
upon
the moſt tremendous Oaths, on the moft facred folemn Ties and Obligations, by
which a Man can bind his Soul, although he alſo give up cautionary Pledges with them;
fo advantageous a Thing is the very Reputation of Juftice and Religion in a Prince.
And therefore it is very rarely feen, that undiffembled Virtue and Religion in a King,
is not of great Advantage alſo to the People; by influencing him to Care and Tender-
nefs, to Juſtice and to Mercy, and by reminding him, that he muſt alſo give Account
to
564 A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY.
to God, how well or ill he hath diſcharged his Duty. Be wife now therefore, O ye
Kings, and be inftructed ye that are Judges of the Earth, fays the Pfalmift, ii. 10. and
that they might not be to feek, what Wiſdom and Inftruction here is meant, he bids
them, ver. 11. Serve the Lord with Fear. For the Fear of the Lord is truly Wiſdom,
and to depart from Evil is Understanding, as well, or rather more in Kings, than other
Men; becauſe their being Good, is of fuch infinite Concern to all the World. The
thing I have been ſhewing you, is this, that Jofiah was, in all Probability, a good, a
juſt and virtuous Prince, as well as a religious one; and though it is not fo expreffed,
yet being fo remarkably religious, I could not help concluding he was therefore juſt and
virtuous; becauſe Religion and the Fear of God do fo naturally, and almoſt neceffarily,
excite Men to the Practice of thofe, and all other Virtues, that are requifite to the full
and due, Diſcharge of all their feveral Obligations to Mankind; and from that univerfal
and unfeigned Sorrow and Concern fhewed by the Nation at his Death. The Lofs of
this good Prince was alſo made much heavier, by the Confideration of the Rarity and
Scarcity of good Princes; Judah indeed fared better in this Point than Ifrael, much;
but Judah had but little Cauſe of boafting. Auguftus, it is faid, defigned Tiberius for
his Succeffor, that all the World might want him, and lament his Death; which they
both did, and had great Caufe to do, for many Years. It is a fharp Reproach to any
preſent Age, to hear Men call for, and commend the former. This Miſchief even
good Princes do occafionally; by bleffing fo their own, they make the Times to come
leſs tolerable. This alfo it is that gives them a ſecond Fame and Reputation; this
makes their Loſs ſo great and heavy. All Sorrows (if we mark it) both begin and
end at home in Self-Love: All our Concern proceeds from apprehending a Lofs of
fomething Good, or from Fear of fomething Evil; and Good and Evil to our felves,
though may be, at fome Diſtance, for our Pofterity is alfo Part of our felves. In the
Inftance before us, it is evident that the fearful Confideration of the Evils to come,
threatned from God by Huldah the Prophetefs, and refpited alone for good Jofiah's
Sake, muſt needs increaſe their Sorrow for his Death; they loft the Pledge of their Se-
curity and Preſervation in him: Upon his fingle Life hung all their Hopes of Safety.
How ſtrong a Motive ſhould this be, to make and keep a Prince juſt, virtuous, and
religious, when for the Sake of fuch, God will fufpend at leaſt, fometimes remove, his
Judgments juſtly threatned to a wicked People? And how great Reaſon does this afford to
People, to wiſh, and pray, their Kings may be juſt ſuch as God deſcribes them; 2 Sam.
xxiii. 3. The God of Ifrael faid, the Rock of Ifrael fpake to me, He that ruleth over Men,
muſt be just, ruling in the Fear of God. And how great Cauſe of Sorrow and Lament-
ing does the Loſs of fuch a Prince afford? And I believe it will be no ill Gueſs, nor
far from Truth, to think the Spirit of God recorded, by the Author of theſe Books,
the folemn and the general Mourning of the Land and its Inhabitants, for this good
King, with ſome Defign of provoking other Kings to imitate his good Qualities. I am
fure it is a Uſe that they ſhould make of fuch a memorable Paffage. For befides the
great Advantages (that I have mentioned) which both themſelves and Subjects reap
from their being good and virtuous and religious, it is alſo the readieſt and the ſureſt
Way to Fame and Immortality of Honour here in this World. And this is a Confi-
deration that, more or lefs, prevails with all Princes. And indeed they have ſuch a
Share of Fame, among Pofterity, that they ought to take good heed what kind of
Fame it is. For after fuch a Number of Years are paft, and Men forget Particulars,
the general Good or Evil of the Times they lived in, mark their Reigns for Good cr
Evil; and Men, to eaſe their Memories, call them the Happy or Unhappy Reigns of
fuch and fuch Kings. Now nothing gives, nothing eſtabliſhes a better Reputation to
a Prince, than Juſtice, Virtue, and Religion. Great Victories, and glorious Triumphs
over conquered Nations, give the Life of Fame; but this is a Fame Men make Ex-
ceptions
A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY.
565
Exceptions to; Poſterity will call in Queſtion thefe Proceedings; the conquered Na-
tions call them Tyrannies, and Ufurpations, unjuſt Invafions, mighty Robberies, and
Princely Villanies; there will be ſtill diſputing about the Fame and Reputation of theſe
great Names, and ftill the juft, the quiet, the fober, and the unambitious Part of Man-
kind will be inclined to pity the Diſtreffed, and to condemn the bold Diſturbers of the
Quiet and Repofe of Kingdoms. Whereas the Fame of being juſt, and virtuous, and
religious, is affented to by all; is undiſputed, forwarded, increaſed, admired, and loved
by every one; it gains all Parties, makes Amends for great Miſcarriages, is talked of,
and remembred with Delight and Satisfaction. The Way to the Temple of Honour,
lay, of old, through the Temple of Virtue; and ſo I believe and hope it will always
do: The Fame of being virtuous and religious, as it is better grounded, fo it is furer,
and will laſt much longer, than that of being any thing befides, and is much eaſier to
be purchaſed. This Princes would do well to think on; as they defire to be deli-
vered to Pofterity, ſo they muſt e'en behave themſelves to the preſent Age they live in :
For however ready People are to flatter and applaud the Acts of living Kings, yet few
regard the Dead; or are afraid to ſpeak the Truth of fuch as neither can reward nor
puniſh. This is a Uſe that Kings may make of this ſo general undiffembled Sorrow
for the Death of a good and godly King, recorded fo particularly in holy Scriptures;
who, fince they are ambitious generally of a good Fame, as well as great, may find
the readieſt and the neareſt Way to it, lies by Juſtice, Virtue, and Religion.- I have
been all this while defcribing a Prince of extraordinary Qualities, one that ſet out ex-
ceeding early in the Ways of Goodneſs, and held that Courſe to his Life's End; one
that deſtroyed the Worſhip of carved Images, and took great Care to repair the Temple
of the true God; one that redeemed the Law, and reſtored it to its old Dominion
that made a Covenant with God, himſelf, to live as became a good Prince, and one
that uſed his Regal Authority to caufe his Servants and Subjects to do the like, if his
Example wrought not with them: And one, that when he died, was univerfally and
moſt unfeignedly lamented by all Judah and Jerufalem, and Jeremiah; by all the
City, and the Country, and by the Prophets of the Lord. And, I believe, I am pre-
vented in the Application, by almoſt every one that hears me. The Parallel is fo exact,
that whilſt I have been talking of Jofiah, I know you have been thinking of the
QUEEN. Edward the VI. has been moft generally called the Good Jofiah. And
there was indeed a great Refemblance betwixt them for the Years that Edward lived.
But he died betimes: And there is great Difference betwixt a very promifing and hope-
ful Prince of Sixteen, and one that lived to a mature Age with the free Exerciſe of
Regal Power. And befides, his Innocence, his fweet and cafie Temper, became a
Prey to a moft facrilegious and rapacious Generation of Men, which in fome Meafure
helped to mitigate the Univerfal Sorrow that his Death occafioned; although that fatal
Breach let in a Sea of Blood and Mifery upon this poor Kingdom, and gave it
fuch a Taſte of the fevere Vengeance that a fuperftitious Worſhip of God re-
turning home in Triumph, from a fix Years Exile and Ejectment, both re-
quired and took, that I heartily hope it never will forget. But there is a more exact
Conformity betwixt Jofiah, and the prefent Subject of our Sorrows, than any Prince
befides we have ever had. Her Heart, like his, was early fet to feek God; and we have
feen in Her, the Truth of what that God tells us, that they who seek him early, find
him. For the has never yet deceived the Hopes that a feverely virtuous and religious
Education gave us; nor once occafioned a fufpicious Fear in any of her Friends. But
on the contrary, fhone out, continually, a fair and great Example to the whole Nation,
of a moft firm, fincere, and unaffected Piety towards God. Nor was fhe fatisfied to
do her Duty fingle and alone, but, as the Miſtreſs of a large and numerous Family,
took
3 Bb b
;
566 A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY.
on,
took Care that all who any ways depended on her, fhould worship God, as well as ſhe
herſelf; She did not only give them her Example, and Opportunity of Place and Time,
but laid Reſtraint upon them, ufed her Authority and Power to make them at leaſt
appear, as frequent at, and ferious in Devotions, as they truly ought to be. She took
away the Scandal and Reproach that long had lain upon the Court, the Want of good
Example in a Prince. I ſhould be loth to raiſe her Character at any one's Expence or
Coft: Befides, Her Virtue and Devotion ſtand in need of no Advantage, by Compa-
riſon. I dare not think that fuch Degrees of Goodneſs are fo' abfolutely neceffary to
every private Chriſtian, much leſs to every Prince, that without them, they may not
be, through God's Mercy, both good and happy People. And therefore I have no De-
ſign to repreſent her otherwiſe than imitable by every private Chriſtian; I am not in-
clined to fay one Word, but what I think you all believe before-hand. The Place we
ſtand in, and the Men we are, forbid us to invent, or ſpeak Uncertainties, or any thing
that will not ſome ways tend to Edification. Nor is there Need of any thing beſides;
for we are able, with good Affurance, to prefent to all her People, a young, a beautiful,
and powerful Queen, a perfect Pattern for their Imitation, in all that is exactly vir-
tuous or religious. Her Station was fo much maligned, that, hearing nothing of this
Head, from the moſt fcrupulouſly Curious nice Obſervers of her Life, we ought in
Reaſon to conclude her truly holy and unblameable to all the World; and God alone
can fee into the Heart. The External of a Man, is only known to Man, and that
alone can be propoſed to Imitation. And therefore, e'er I leave this Head, I wish I
might effectually recommend her publick outward Carriage in the Houſe of God, to
all this Audience, and efpecially to thoſe of her own Sex. It was fo decent, unaffect-
edly devout, ſo grave, ſo ſerious, and compofed, that it is fit for every one to think
and to reform that light and gay Behaviour that is much too common in theſe Places.
She knew the Eyes of all were oft intent upon her, and therefore took all Heed to give
a good Example; but knew moreover the herſelf was more immediately in God's Pre-
fence, and therefore fo behaved herſelf, as beft becomes an humble Supplicant, before
the Throne of his adorable all-powerful Majefty. Theſe things become us to commend,
becauſe they are fo fit for private Imitation; frequent Attendance upon God's Service,
and a religious grave Deportment there, are Duties by Command; and it is not much
to hope they may be greatly promoted by fo extraordinary an Example. But thefe,
and a great many more good Qualities that I may not now concern my felf, or you
withal, fhew us how great and univerfal our Lofs is; and greater yet is like to be, if
we will make no uſe of her Example, for then we have loft her quite. The Imitation
of the commendable Qualities of the Dead, is all the Advantage that the living ones
can make of them: And it is but common Wiſdom to provide and fee, that they do
not leave us Sorrow and Affliction only, when they have done their beſt to leave us
Virtue and Religion alſo, if we will purſue them in their Steps. But here I hope the
Parallel will end, and that our Sorrows have but one Foundation; whereas the Sorrows
of the Jews had two, and the latter very dreadful. Jofiah was an excellently virtuous
and religious Prince, and did a World of Good while he lived, which ended with him:
The Remembrance of this, might well occafion great and univerfal Mourning for him;
the Death of a good and godly Prince is an ineftimable Loſs, and inexpreffible. But
then his Death let in a World of Mifery, it let in old Idolatry and fearful Superftition,
it let in a moſt woeful Deſtruction of the City, and a long and fad Captivity of the
People. This frightful Profpect both the Prophet and the People had, and knew that
God had ſpared them whilft Jofiah lived, but then refolved to execute his Vengeance
to the full; this made his Life fo dear and valuable, and this occafioned him when
dead, to be lamented with fuch Bitterneſs and Anguiſh. Here we are full of Hope the
Parallel will break off and fail. Our Profpect forward is not, God be praiſed, fo black
and
A SERMON preached on the Death of Queen MARY.
567
and dreadful. Our Sorrows are as juſt and due for what is loſt and gone, as thoſe of
Judah and Jerufalem, but not our Fears for what we have in View. We are not fo
bewildred and entangled yet in our Affairs, but we can ſee our Way out, though ob-
fcurely and by a glimmering Light, if we provoke not God to ſtrike us deeper. Our
Cafe is hazardous enough to give us Fears, not faint, nor very diftant, nor uncertain;
but ſtrong and reaſonable, and near enough to make us careful, diligent, and watchful,
to fet us upon thinking, and providing againſt threatned Evils; but moſt eſpecially to
ftir us up to Union and Agreement, to fettle Peace and Quietnefs at home, that we
may have but one thing to attend to, one Danger to eſchew, and to provide againſt,
namely, the common Enemy; who, without Queſtion, makes Account to improve the
fad Occafion of our Mourning, to his Advantage, and our utter Ruin. But let us fhew
him we are fully fenfible our Lofs is great enough, without any Augmentation he ſhall
make; and that we will not help him, as he hopes, by our Divifions, to make our
felves more miferable than we now are, or need to be. God does not, that we know,
intend our Ruin, but Amendment; we ftill have Pledges of his Love remaining with
us; and therefore have no Cauſe to doubt his farther Favours; if we will fet about de-
ferving them. All we have therefore left to do, is to humble our felves under the
mighty Hand of God, to deprecate his farther Anger and Diſpleaſure, to make the Uſe
that he intends by this Infliction, to call to Mind our evil Ways, our Sins, and Provo-
cations, to repent us truly and fincerely of them, and fhew we do fo, by our leaving
them, and taking up with better things for the Time to come, and to implore the Af
fiſtance of his Grace to put theſe good Deſigns in Execution.
)
SER
A
MON
On the Death of the moſt hopeful Prince W I L L I A M
Duke of GLOUCESTER.
The PREFACE that was prefixed to this SERMON, when
it was firſt publiſhed by itſelf.
I
Give this Sermon up to the Defires of a great many good People of the Parishes of St. Auſtin,
and St. Dunstan in the Weft, to whom I can deny nothing of this Nature, which they ſhall
find reafonable to afk of me: But not to their Defires only, but also to the Hopes I have, that,
from fomething or other hinted at in it, other Wife and Virtuous People may be put upon confider-
ing, whereabouts we are; and on contributing all that lies in them, to the preventing whatever
Evils we may apprehend from the great Lofs we have fustained in the Death of the most Noble
and moft Hopeful Prince, the Duke of GLOUCESTER. I know, I have no other Aims
than thefe, in making this Sermon Publick; and they who know me well, will, I believe, think fo
too: I undertake not therefore to defend the Irregularity of ſome of my Thoughts, nor the Order in
which they are ranged. They were produced in Grief and deep Concern, and that, I think, may
in fome fort, excuse them with tender and good-natured People. I am only careful of guarding
against Two Sorts of Men; Firſt, Such as will needs call this great Misfortune, a Judgment of
God, for what bath paſſed amongst us. Secondly, Such as will certainly try to make it one, as
foon as ever they can. To the first, we must freely own, we have deferved God's greatest Judg-
ments,
568
A SERMON preached, &c.
ments, but not for the Cauſes they aſſign; and freely own, that this Misfortune has the Face of
one, and is as heavy as a Judgment; and therefore I hope all People will improve under it, and
make as good use of it, as if it were indeed a Judgment. But till they shall produce fome
certain and impartial Rules by which they proceed in forming Cenfures, and in applying them to
Nations, or to private People, they will give us leave, I hope, to fufpend. And to the Second
Sort, who think to turn a Kingdom into a Commonwealth, I can only say, that I hope, the
Extent of our Dominions, the Number of our Nobility, the Honour of our Gentry, the Genius of
our People, and the whole Current of our Laws, will always provide us with a ready Answer to
an impudent and clamorous Faction. God, I hope, will evermore preferve us from a Species of
Government, as ill fitted for our Nation, as Popery is for our Religion.
i
PSALM CXLVI. Ver. 3, 4, 5.
!
O put not your Truft in Princes, nor in any Child of Man, for there
is no Help in them.
For when the Breath of Man goeth forth, he shall turn again to his
Earth, and then all his Thoughts perish.
Bleſſed is he that hath the God of Jacob for his Help, and whofe Hope
is in the Lord his God.
W
E know not who it was, that compoſed this Pfalm, nor what it was that
occafioned it. But the Providence of God furniſhes all People, with Occa-
fions more than enow, of applying theſe Words to themſelves, but too
too pertinently. It hath furnished Us with one, not many Years ago, fo
very proper, that it gives freſh and lively Pain, to every one that remembers it with
half the Confideration it deferves. It furniſhes us now with another, of which no living
Man, perhaps, can ſee the Confequence at full, but every one can ſee enough to drive
him to Sorrow and Amazement, and cauſe him to fay, with the Pfalmift, The Lord is
King, the Earth may be glad thereof, yea the Multitude of the Ifles may be glad there-
of: Glad, that their Affairs are in the Hands of him, who has all Power, and is all
Wiſdom, and all Goodneſs; who bringeth Light out of Darkneſs, Good out of Evil,
and can turn every thing to their Advantage, who ſerve him truly.
great
Whether it were, that the Pfalmift here directs himſelf againſt the common Incli-
nation of Men, which is, to build great Hopes upon the Promiſes of Princes and
Men, and rather to depend on them, than on God above, who keepeth his Promiſe
for ever; or whether the Death of fome great Prince, had given the Jews, in their
Captivity, fome mighty Diſappointment; whatever it was, that occafioned the com-
pofing this Pfalm, it is plain the Words of the Text adviſe us, Firft, Not to put our
Truſt in Princes, nor in any Child of Man: And that for this Reaſon, There is no
Help in them, because when the Breath of Man goeth forth, he shall turn again to his
Earth, and all his Thoughts perish. Secondly, They direct us where we are to place
our Truſt and Confidence, and that is in God; Bleſſed is he that hath the God of Jacob
for his Help, and whofe Hope is in the Lord his God.
I. Of the Perfons in whom we are not to place our Truft and Confidence, and they
are Princes; Put not your Truſt in Princes, i. e. in no Body, no Child of Man; for
if you might in any Body, you might in them, becauſe they have moſt Power, and
more Opportunities, of anſwering to your Confidence, than any Men befides. I fee
no Reaſon to think that any thing is here faid to the Diſparagement of Princes, as
though they were to be trufted less than other Men, for Falfhood, or Forgetfulneſs of
Promiſes;
A SERMON preached, &c.
569
..
Promiſes; and therefore to truſt, is not here put for believing: But they are rather
here conſidered, as the faithfulleft, as well as the most powerful Managers of human
Affairs, of the beſt Inventions, as well as greateſt Abilities, both to defign and execute
great Matters: And yet, not to be entirely depended on, for other Reaſons. It is
much the fame that is expreffed in Pfalm cxviii. 8, 9. It is better to trust in the Lord,
than to put any Confidence in Man. It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put any
Confidence in Princes, i. e. the chiefeft and the beſt of Men: And the Reafon here
affigned, why they are not fo to be trufted and depended on, namely, becauſe they are
ſo fubject to Death, delivers them from all Sufpicion of Blame. To put our Truſt there-
fore in Princes, does in this Place fignify, to think the Settlement of their Affairs fo
ſtrong and fure, that nothing can diſturb them; to truſt ſo to the Wiſdom of their Ma-
nagement, their Valour and their Might, their good Intentions, and their great Abili-
ties, as to be quite fecure, and to fufpect no Change can happen; it either fignifies this
Confidence, which is innocent, though inconfiderate; or this Confidence with Impiety,
truſting in the Arm of Fleſh alone, and vaunting with the fooliſh Man, who faith in
his Heart, Tush, I shall never be moved, no Harm shall happen to me, If the Truft
that is here diffuaded from, be contrary to, or exclufive of, that Truſt we always ought
to put in God, then to be fure it is condemned, and finful; but if it be only a weak
and groundleſs Truft, then there is lefs Offence than Folly in it, and the heavy
Diſappointments it muſt needs meet, will punish it fufficiently. Sometimes we ſee a
Prince truly noble, juft, and merciful, wife and brave, a Father of his Country, a
Lover of his People, careful of all their Interefts and their Honour, and born, as it
were, to the Good of Mankind: It would be impoffible not to put great Confidence
in fuch a Prince, and to hope a Nation will be happy under fuch Adminiftration,
whilſt he lives; this fort of Truft is reaſonable, becauſe it is built upon ſo good Ground.
Another Time, we ſee a Prince of beauteous Afpect, lovely Difpofition, inclined to
Learning, Virtue, Piety, and full of all good Qualities; it would be Stupidity not to
hope well of him, and to promiſe our felves a Harveſt anſwerable to a Field of fo fair
Shew Such hope and Confidence as this, becomes us, as we are reaſonable and con-
fidering Creatures; and it would be a kind of Ingratitude to God, from whom we ac-
knowledge all theſe Gifts and Graces come, not to conceive fuch Hopes as fuch excel-
lent Endowments promife. A Man muſt ſhut his Eyes on Providence, that will not
make his Obfervations on what paffes, and collect what is moſt reaſonable and likely.
For fince God acts by reaſonable Caufes, and procures our Peace and Happineſs by In-
ſtruments that are in Nature proper for that purpoſe, we owe it to him, to expect it
from them where they are fo promifing. This is properly to truft in God; for to look
for Grapes from Thorns, or Figs from Thiftles, is to hope againſt Nature, and againſt
Reaſon, and not to be excufed by any Reverence we pretend to God, or Dependance
on his Power, though he is truly able to produce thofe Fruits from thoſe unnatural
Stocks. The Men of no Religion, and no Thought, are fo intent upon thefe fecond
Cauſes, that they ſee no first, nor will acknowledge any fupreme Power, that over-
looks and governs our Affairs, but governs them by Nature and by Reaſon: But they
who truft to one, ftill in Subordination to the other, in conftant Dependance on him,
and always in his Power to change and fufpend, as he fees fit, do truly put their Truſt
in God, even when they put their Truft in Princes. They look for Reft and Security
in Peace, where Kings are virtuous, wife, and watchful, and the People are at Unity;
for Victory in War, where Generals are brave and wary, the Soldiers healthy, numerous,
obedient, and courageous, and well paid, i. e. they promiſe to themſelves the natural
Effects of Wiſdom, Strength, and Concord; but all from God, who is to bleſs the fe
natural and theſe moral Cauſes. They look for plenteous Harveſts, where the Fields
are full and flouriſhing, but know, it is God that made them ſo, and he that is to bring
them
3 C c
:
570
A SERMON preached on the Death
them in. This Confidence he does himſelf raiſe in us, and therefore never is offended
with it, becauſe it is built upon the Confidence we have, that he will fuffer things to go
on orderly and naturally, unless we provoke him to change or fufpend the common
Courſe of them. And though our Difappointments are very great, and very many, yet
might our Hopes and Expectations be very reaſonable and just, and are not to be con-
demned by an unhappy Iffue. If our Truft in Princes exclude not our Truft in God,
we need not be afraid it will be faulty: Nor does the Pfalmift here condemn fuch
Truft, for its Impiety, but rather, (for the avoiding troubleſome and heavy Difappoint-
ments) would diffuade us from putting fo much Truft in Princes, whofe Lives are ſo
uncertain, and look up to God more ardently and frequently, whofe Mercy, and Good-
nefs, like himſelf (they are himself) endure for ever. I think, it is a kind Advice,
not to raiſe in our Minds, Hopes that are fo eafily defeated, and when defeated, fo
vexatious and afflicting. Put not your Truft in Princes, nor in any Child of Man, for
there is no Help in them. There is no Help in Man, in many Cafes; a thouſand and
ten thouſand Evils befall us, wherein the Wiſdom, Skill, the Riches, and the Strength
of all Mankind, can give no Help, afford no Comfort. If we want Rain, or have too
much of it, can all the World procure a Shower, or hinder it from falling? Can it pro-
cure a favourable Wind, or hinder a contrary one from blowing? Can it recover Health,
where it is wanting, to the Good of Thouſands; or reſtore a precious Life, that is,
like David's, worth ten Thoufand? The utmoſt of human Power, for ought that
appears, is but an Ability of doing huge Miſchief; and the beſt of it, is an Ability of
hindring one another from doing Miſchief. But when we want Affiſtance, in moſt of
our Extremities, oh how unable is this World to give it! The wifeft, richest, and moſt
powerful Men want Help themſelves, and neither can afford it to themſelves, nor
others; there is indeed no Help in them. For when the Breath of Man goeth forth, he
fhall return again to his Earth, and then all his Thoughts perish. The very beſt is here
fuppofed of the very ableft of them, that they may be full of good Intentions, form
great and good Deſigns, have their Hearts wholly bent on honouring God, promoting
Virtue, and profiting Mankind, feeking the Intereft of their People, doing Juftice,
fhewing Mercy, and imitating him, whofe Miniſters and Subſtitutes they are. Happy
for them, that they are full of theſe Deſigns! No better Thoughts can poffibly poffefs
their Hearts, or employ their Hours; the King of Kings, the mighty Maſter of them
all, fhall blefs them, and reward them, whom he finds fo doing. But this is, much
too often, all they do; they form a Multitude of brave Defigns, and live to effect but
few! I have faid ye are Gods, but ye shall die like Men, and this they find, and we find
alſo. Poor Princes, poor People: They raiſe our Hopes, and they deſtroy them fud-
denly. We gather up all our Truft, and place it on their Lives, and in a Day or two,
thofe Lives are ſpilt like Water on the Ground. They are, as the Prophet calls them,
the Breath of our Noftrils: And Nations fometimes feem to live in them, and only to
breathe their Breath; and yet their Breath goeth forth, like other People's Breath, and
they return again to their Earth, (their Earth as well as ours) and then all their
Thoughts periſh, and all our Thoughts too, with them: But not our Thoughtfulneſs;
that ſtill ſurvives, to trouble every wife confidering Man. Our Thoughts are in this
Place our Hopes, and they expire with the Breath of him who kindled them. His
Thoughts, who raiſed our Thoughts, perish, and therefore ours muſt periſh with them.
Who can enough eſteem thoſe Lives, which by Experience are found ſo uſeful to the
World, to the ſecuring its Tranquillity and Happiness; or thoſe who from their earlieſt
Infancy, have promiſed all the Good that Men can look for, from the moſt virtuous
towardly Difpofition, and whofe precocious Advances, could not fail of giving us fome
jealous Fears, with our moſt lively Hopes! Who can enough eſteem fuch Lives, if
we conſider theſe fine Qualities! And who can value them too little, or truſt too little
in
of WILLIAM Duke of GLOUCESTER.
571
in them, who confiders how foon their Breath goeth forth, and they return again to
Earth, and all their Thoughts perish! What must we do in this Uncertainty? Our
Affairs require a Life as durable as Braſs, and the Laws of our Mortality will admit of
none, but what is ſubject to a thouſand certain, and a thouſand accidental Evils, each
of which may break us all to pieces. Let us do any thing in this Uncertainty, but
blame the Providence of God, who hangs the Good of ſo much People, on ſo ſmall a
Thread: For, righteous are his Ways, and juſt his Government, whatever we may
fear, whatever we endure.
But may I not, unblamed, fay with the Prophet, Jerem. xii. 1. (I know I fay it
with all Deference and Humility) Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee,
yet
let me talk with Thee of thy Judgments: When thou, in Mercy, turnedſt
away the
Captivity of our Zion, we were like them that dream; when our Enemies were juſt upon
us, they ftumbled and fell; then iwas our Mouth filled with Laughter, and our Tongue with
Joy. The greateſt Enemies we had, could not forbear proclaiming, The Lord hath
done great things for them. We could not our felves, in Gratitude, forbear proclaim-
ing; The Lord hath done great things for us already, whereof we rejoyce.
Either to temper thefe Felicities, or puniſh our Ingratitude, Thou ſtoppedft up,
for ever, the Breath of our Noftrils; The anointed of the Lord was taken
away from
us, of whom we faid, Under her Shadow we ſhall live (not among the Heathen, but at
home) in Plenty and Security.
To fhew thou didst intend but to correct, and not to give us over unto Death, thou
didft, by unexpected Inftruments, deliver the Life of the King from Fear of the Ene-
my, and from the Snare of the Hunter; Thou favedft him from Deſtruction, and
crownedſt him with Mercy and loving Kindneſs; and madeſt him Inftrumental in
procuring the Defire of all our Hearts, an honourable Peace; the Opportunity of heal-
ing all our Wounds, recovering all our Loffes, and making up the Breaches our inteftine
Foes, our fooliſh Diſcords, and ill-grounded Animofities had occafioned; the Opportu-
nity of ſettling our Affairs, and looking to the Ground we ſtood upon; of putting them
in fuch a Pofture, that neither Enemies abroad, nor Enemies at home might give us
any great Diſturbance; that the Religion of our Country, and its moſt antient, pro-
pereſt, and beſt tempered Government, might be fecured againſt the Attempts and
Machinations of its old inveterate Enemies, the Sons of Violence and Darkneſs, and
from the Noify Importunities of unexperienced, raw, new-fangled Schematiſts, and
Speculators. But contrary to this, the Spirit of Difcord is gone out among us, and the
fweet Hope of all the Kingdom, is in a Moment, fnatched away from us
had Time to try to move thee, by our Prayers, or Time to apprehend a Stroke fo
painful and fo mortal. Thy former Favours did not promife fuch Conclufion.
But we
will hold our Peace, fince it is thy doing; We are much furer that thou mayeſt in
Juſtice, thus chaſtiſe us for our Sins, than we could be that thou hadſt ſo much Mercy
for fuch Sinners, as we have, all our Lives, experienced from thee. Permit us never
fo long, to talk with thee of thy Judgments, yet muſt we ftill conclude, Righteous art
thou, O Lord, when we plead with thee.
e're we
Such Loffes, and fuch heavy Diſappointments, needs must prove effectual Cures of
all our Confidence in Princes. Never were Hopes more juſtly raiſed, nor placed more
reaſonably, than ours have been, upon two noble Objects; and yet fix Years have quite
defeated them, dried up our Springs, and almoſt defolated a Royal Tribe, one of the
faireſt and moſt fruitful in the World. How fhort is our Profpect now! In what a
little Compaſs is our Kingly Family contained! Two precious Lives make up our whole
Treaſure !
The People of the Eaft, we find in Scriptures, addreffed to their Princes, with
| 0 King, live for ever. It is a vain Compliment to Men of Flesh and Blood, whoſe
Breath
572
A SERMON preached on the Death
Breath goeth forth ſo fuddenly, who dye like other Men, who return again to their
Earth, and whoſe Thoughts all periſh in a Moment; but if it were ever reaſonable,
our Cafe would call for it, and we would ufe it. May God enlarge thefe Borders!
Build to thefe Princes a fure Houſe! And bind up their Souls in the Bundle of Life!
A long one here for our Sakes, and, for their own, an everlaſting one, in Heaven!
II. Let us now withdraw from this uncomfortable Side. The Lives of Princes are,
it ſeems, like Lands of Darkneſs, where, every Step we make, is in Diftruſt and Fear:
They give us little but Alarms, Defeats, and Diſappointments. Let us feek a Country
of more Light and Safety, where Hope dwells, and where we may abide with Confi-
dence. Bleed is he who hath the God of Jacob for his Help, and whofe Hope is in the
Lord his God. This is a Life, and Will, and Power, we may depend upon; Great is
the Lord, and marvellous, worthy to be praised, there is no End of his Greatness. The
Lord is good to all, and his tender Mercies are over all his Works. His Kingdom is an
everlasting Kingdom, and his Dominion endureth throughout all Ages. Theſe are Foun-
dations ſtrong enough for all the Truft and Confidence a Heart can hold. He is of in-
finite Goodneſs to intend the Happineſs of all his Creatures, of infinite Wiſdom to know
wherein it lies, and of infinite Power to effect his wife and good Defigns towards us.
Here, therefore, we may place our Truft, without any Fears or Difappointment:
here we muſt fix our Hopes, for here we can only find our Help.
Were there not fuch a Power above, to overlook and govern Men, and their Affairs,
what a Place of Mifery and Confufion would this World be? What with the Certainty
of natural Cauſes, working many fad Effects, though known before, yet unavoidable;
what with the Multitude of fearful Accidents, never to be prevented nor forefeen; what
with the Folly, Ignorance, Miſtakes, the Malice and Perverſeneſs, and the Rage of
one another's Paffions, how wretched a Thing would the Life of a Man be!
The ways of God, I think, are to permit natural Cauſes to work their natural Ef-
fects, according to the Powers he hath endued them with; referving to himſelf the
Power of altering or fufpending them, as he fees fit, and when he pleafes; and to fuffer
Men to act as free Agents, having given them Reaſon, and revealed his Will to them,
and laid down all fufficient Motives, to reftrain them from what they know is Evil,
and to encourage them to what is truly Good; referving to himſelf, however, the
Power of changing their Inclinations, directing them in their Deſigns, and influencing
them all, as he fees fit. By which Means, neither the Certainty of natural Operations,
nor the Freedom of Man's Will exclude his Government of Men and Nature, nor hin-
der us from addreffing to him, by Prayer, for what we want, and Praise for what
we have received; both which would be in vain, were Nature not to be diverted from
her Way, nor the Will of Man flexible, by fome fuperiour over-ruling Power. Were
Nature's Courſe unalterably fixt, and the Will of Men not to be moved, Prayer would
be infignificant and uſeleſs. Were not Men at Liberty, in general, they could not be
accountable for what they did, they could have neither Vice nor Virtue. Were not the
Laws of Nature fixt, we could not live in any fort of Certainty, we could not under-
take any thing, nor could have any Hope or Expectation of fucceeding. But as it
pleaſes God to govern by theſe two known Rules, and to be ſtill the Maſter of them
both, there is all the Room that can be for our Endeavours, Care and Vigilance, our
Virtue, and our Studies, and all the Reaſon and Grounds for our applying to him, our
truſting in him, and Dependence upon him. Our Hope and Truft in God, muſt there-
fore be directed by theſe fettled and eſtabliſhed Rules of Providence. Theſe are the
known and ſtanding Laws of his wife Government; the reft is Difpenfation, Favour,
Grace, and fometimes Miracle. Difpenfation, Grace and Favour, we may innocently
hope for, pray for, and expect, from his indulgent Goodneſs, where no eſtabliſhed
Law of Nature is fubverted; but for a Miracle, it is much more reaſonable to wish for,
than
of WILLIAM Duke of GLOUCESTER.
573
than expect, one in our Favour. We know that nothing is impoffible with God, but
yet our Hope is never equal to his Power; nor do we ever truft in him for any thing
uncommon, without fome Promiſe in particular. We know it is as poffible for God
to reſtore again the Dead to Life, as Health to a difeafed Man; what is the Reaſon,
then, that we do not importune him with our moſt earneft and united Prayers, to give
us back that dear, ineftimable Life we have fo lately parted with, but that we think he
fignifies his Will and Pleaſure to us, by the known ftated Courfe of Nature, and know
we have no Reaſon to look for Miracles? Death would not give us fuch Defpair imme-
diately, but that we meafure the Power of God, by the common Exercife of it, in
the World. And fo it is with putting our Truſt in him; we can carry it no further
than he gives us Leave, by his common Rules, or by particular Promiſe. When there-
fore the Pfalmift would invite us to hope in God, and put our Trust in him, he would
not have us raiſe in our felves Expectations of Things ftrangely unuſual and unlikely;
nor to believe that God will do for us, or bring to paſs, whatever we expect or wiſh
for, or what we think we want. But we may hope, and truſt in him, for every Thing,
that is in it ſelf reaſonable, and fit for him to give, and for us to receive.
Our Paffions often put us upon aſking, what is not in it ſelf very reaſonable to ex-
pect; no matter, provided it be nothing wicked and forbidden, and nothing to the
Prejudice and Injury of any one elſe. Our Parents, and our Friends, live here, even
beyond the common Term of human Life, and we yet defire of God, they may con-
tinue longer with us, and we may hope that he will hear our Prayers: This does not
ſeem very reaſonable, when we confider the Life of Man, and call to Mind the Years
that are paſt, and obferve how it has always been with other People: But yet it is very
innocent and lawful fo to do; becauſe we know of no ſet Term of Days, beyond
which none ſhall paſs; that is ſtill in the Hands of God, and becauſe the protracting
of that Life, is to us, we think, of Ufe, and to no one's Wrong.
The Child is dying, there, of a malignant Fever, a Train, as it were of liquid Fire,
is running through its Veins, and burning up the Life, that has been the Defire of I
know not how many Years paft, and the Hopes of I know not how many more to
come; the Parents pray to God, in earneſt, you may be ſure, and put their Truſt in
him, and hope he will extinguiſh this unnatural Flame; and this they do, when Reme-
dies are ineffectual, Phyficians found of no Value, and every thing about them bids
them give it up for loft. The Thing they afk is lawful, the Time is not too late, the
Work is not impoffible in Nature, and God is the Mafter of all. The Event alone
could declare, whether it were not fit for God to give this Life, or for the Parents to
receive it. Their Confidence in God was well placed, although their Hopes and De-
fires were diſappointed. If Reaſons were to be fought for, in fuch Cafes, out of, or
beyond what natural Cauſes teach us, we may be fure that God denies us, with as
much Reaſon as he gives us, what we aſk. We must not therefore think our Hopes
were wrong placed, and our Confidence in God ill grounded, and our Prayers in vain,
becauſe we receive not what we aſk fo earneſtly: Becauſe it is the Power and Goodneſs
of God, which juftifies our Hope and Truft in him, and which encourages us to pray;
and this his Power is not diminiſhed by our Diſappointment, nor is his Goodness the
leſs, in his not granting what we thought (not He) convenient for us.
It is impoffible
(as I have before faid) to pray to God without believing him kind to intend our Good,
wife to diſcern what is our Good, and powerful to procure it. Theſe are the very Rea-
fons of Prayer, and the Motives of addreffing to God, for what we think we want:
And theſe are the Foundations of all our Hope and Confidence in him. And yet thefe
are the
very Reaſons, why our Prayers may not be heard, and our Hopes not answered,
and yet God be ſtill as merciful and well-intentioned towards us, as when he grants
our Requeſts. We ſuppoſe him good, to intend our Happineſs, he may therefore be
3 D d d
good
574
A SERMON preached on the Death
We ſuppoſe
good in with-holding from us, what we think is good for us, but is not.
him to be all-wife; and therefore refer it to him to chufe for us. How do we know
he does not exerciſe his great Difcernment, in refufing to us what we think is good for
us, but what he knows is not? Shall we only think he judges right, when he judges as
we judge, and meaſure out his Wifdom by our Affections and Defires? If we believe
him wiſe enough to chooſe for us, the fame Reaſon will ſhew him full as wife in his
refuſing what we aſk of him; yes, and full as kind too, if we would believe that is
good for us to have, which he gives, and that not good, (all Things confidered) which
he with-holds from us. But the Misfortune is, that we meaſure good by our own Af-
fections and Defires; that is good, we think, which we feem to want, and to fet our
Hearts upon, and nothing elſe can fatisfie.
:
Let your Father be Seventy Years of Age, and your Child Seven, the firſt a wife
and virtuous Man, a Life that is neceffary to you, and uſeful to the Commonwealth,
and all that are about him; the other, as the reft of Children are, hopeful enough:
If fome Distemper put thefe two Lives into equal Danger, you will do what you can
for both; and you will pray for them both, and truft in God for both their Healths and
Safety But both of them dye, and Nature fwallows up the Concern for the Parent, in
the Grief for the Child; and becauſe the Biafs of Affection is ſtrongeſt on that Side, our
Hope and Confidence feem more defeated, and our Prayers, we think, lefs heard, in
the one Cafe, than the other. It is plain we confider not the Uſefulneſs of the aged
Life (the Continuance of which was certainly the greater Good) in refpect of the Dear-
nefs of that little Life, which yet we could not tell what it might prove. Thefe Things
fhew us, a little, that we are governed more by our Affections than our Reafon; and
that as they make us pray more earneſtly, and hope more firmly, fo they make our
Diſappointments much more heavy, and occafion us to think our Truft and Confidence
in God were deceived, when they were only not answered according to our Wiſhes. But
wherein, then, ſtands the Bleffedneſs of having God for our Help, and hoping in the
Lord our God, if he will only help us in the Way of Nature, and we may only hope
for what is reaſonable and fit? Why, this is as much as any reafonable Man can look
for, or defire. The utmoſt that a reaſonable Creature can hope for, is to be favoured
and fucceeded by God in all his reaſonable and honeft Undertakings, by Means that are
natural, and common to him with all the World. It is a great Support to the Mind
of Man, to believe himſelf under the Protection of a Power, that is able and ready to
fecure him, whilſt he is acting reaſonably and honeftly; able to continue on the Courſe
of Nature, in its eſtabliſhed Settlement, by which Men live in good Hope, and Expec-
tation of Succeſs; by which they plow and fow, aud hope to reap aud gather in their
Harveſt; by which they ſtudy, labour, venture out to Sea, and hope to gain the Fruits
of each, in its due Seafon : Able to prevent a great many mischievous Events; able to
remove all Hindrance and Impediment in the Courfe of Nature; able to infiuence Peo-
ple's Minds, by diverting them from enterprizing Things that would do hurt to others;
and by throwing little Occafions in their Way of doing good; and able, by a thouſand
and ten thouſand little undifcernible Means, to fecure our Happineſs, and prevent our
Miſery; to turn the Accidents that look as if they would ſwallow us up in Ruine, into
the Means of our Security and Preſervation; to diffipate thofe Clouds of Misfortunes
that are ready to burſt upon our Heads and overwhelm us, and give us Day again, with
Calm, and Safety. I cannot tell how a Man can live in fuch a World as this, with
any Joy, that does not verily believe, and much depend upon the Providence of God;
and that, without expecting Miracles or Favours very much out of Courſe, but only
looking for ſuch as are conſiſtent with his known Rules of Government. What ſhould
we do without this everlaſting Source of Comforts, this powerful Refuge, under all
Diftreffes? How many fore Calamities, publick as well as private, do we fall into, out of
-
which
of WILLIAM Duke of GLOUCESTER.
575
1
which no human Power or Wiſdom can deliver us, nor fhew us any Way out of?
And how muſt this perplex a Man, unleſs there were a Being above, kind and able, to
have Recourſe to? Hope is the Food and Suftenance of the Mind, and Men will live
a great while upon it, and all the while much eafier, though in Miſery; whereas the
fame Afflictions would, without that Hope, opprefs them quite, and drive them to
Deſpair and Madneſs; and this muſt often be the Cafe, were not the World and Men,
and their Affairs, all in the Hands of God, and in his Government, who can do every
thing, beyond what we are able to aſk or think. And who would part with fuch a
fure Foundation of Truſt, and Hope, and Confidence, that is not weary of his Life?
Who would let go this Rock of Ages, for any thing elſe he can lay hold on, in this
World? Oh may we never be forfaken by him! Yea rather, may we never firſt for-
fake him! The Life of Princes is a Mole of Sand; all the Stability of human things,
is the Stability of Wind and Water, changing their Face, fhifting their Places every
Moment; God alone abideth for ever, God alone is worthy of our Truft, and never
will deceive it. It is He alone who can extricate us out of all our Difficulties, wipe
away all our Tears and Sorrows from our Hearts, deliver us from our Enemies, protract
our Princes Lives, fave us by Few as well as Many, give us no more Occafions of Com-
plaint and Lamentation, and turn even this to our Advantage, give us the Spirit of Unity
and Love of one another, of Wiſdom to direct us in our publick Refolutions, and to
improve under all the feveral Difpenfations of his Providence. Is any Rock, like our
God? Who is fo great a God as our God? Be thou exalted Lord in thine own Strength,
fo will we fing and praife thy Power.
A SERMON
576
.
A
SERMO
MON
Preached at St. Auftins, in 1701. upon the Death of
King WILLIAM.
2 SA M. Chap. II. Ver. 7.
Therefore now, let your Hands be strengthened, and be
ye valiant;
For your Maſter Saul is dead; and also the House of Judah have
anointed me King over them.
T
HE Philistines having defeated Saul's Army, and found the Bodies of him,
and his three Sons among the Slain, ftripped them, and uſed them ignomi-
niouſly, cut off their Heads, erected Trophies of their Armour, in their
Idols Temple, and faftned their Bodies to the Walls of Bethſhan. The Senſe
of this huge Diſhonour, touched to the quick the brave and faithful Subjects of Jabefb-
Gilead. And all the valiant ones arofe, and went all Night, and took the Bodies from
the Walls, and came to Fabefh, and burnt them there. And they took their Bones, and
buried them under a Tree at Jabeſh, and faſted ſeven Day. When David was come
up to Hebron, after Saul's Death, in order to be crowned King, as God had promiſed
him, fome body told him what the Men of Jabefb-Gilead had done, and that it was
they who had buried Saul: With Purpoſe, perhaps, of exciting him to Jealouſy and
fome Diſpleaſure, againſt thofe, who, at the Peril of their Lives, had done their laſt
and greateſt Honours to the Perfon and Memory of their dead Prince, and to his Family,
who was accounted David's greateſt Enemy, and who indeed had uſed him very
ill:
Or (if theſe Arts are Strangers at the Courts of new Princes) perhaps with good Deſign
of letting David ſee, how much it was worth his while to court the Service of Men
fo brave and faithful to their Lord both living and dead. With whatever Mind this In-
timation was given, it is plain, that David took it right, and as became a generous and
a noble Prince. He fent Meſſengers to the Men of Jabeſh-Gilead, and faid unto them,
Bleſſed be ye of the Lord, that ye have fhewed this Kindness unto your Lord, even unto
Saul, and have buried him: And now the Lord fhew Kindness and Truth unto you; and
I alſo will requite you this Kindness, becauſe ye have done this thing. There is nothing
envious, nothing fufpicious, in a truly great Mind. David, who knew the Obligation
Saul had laid the Men of Jabesh-Gilead under, could not but be pleaſed to find the
kind and dutiful Return they had made to him. That Prince had faved them when
they were reduced to the greateſt Straits imaginable by the Ammonites; when even their
voluntary Submiffion to Servitude, would not be accepted, nor made the Foundation of
a Covenant, unleſs they might thruſt out all the right Eyes of the Men of Jabeſh-
Gilead, and lay it for a Reproach to all Ifrael. In this amazing Strait, Saul with an
unexampled Zeal and Expedition, comes upon the Ammonites, deftroys them quite, and
faves
A SERMON preached, &c.
577
faves the Men of Jabefb-Gilead. This great good Turn was never, certainly, forgot-
ten; but beſt remembred now, in the great Extremity to which that Prince was re-
duced, and in which he was loft. And this it was, that pleafed David fo well, to fee
a People fo grateful to their Prince who had faved them from Reproach, and Bondage,
and great Miſery, by an Action that might have been miſconſtrued by a Succeffor leſs
generous than David, and at a Time when nothing but true Gratitude, and a right
Senfe of Honour, could have inſpired them with fuch an Undertaking; for the King
they ſerved, was now dead. A Prince that would be well ferved, muft needs like thoſe
who ſerved their Prince well; and they who love Gratitude in others, know how to be
grateful themſelves. What could the Men of Jabefb-Gilead propoſe, but doing as be-
came Men of great Honour, when he, for whom they expofed themſelves, was paft
rewarding and remembring all their Service? But they remembred, loved, and honoured
their Deliverer. One may compliment a dead Prince, when it will pleaſe the living
one, with Intereſt and Defign, and Hopes of finding his Account in it. But David
was to be the Succeffor by God's Appointment; a Man that was maligned and pur-
fued by Saul, to Outrage; and therefore they could look for no Encouragement from
thence, for all the Kindneſs they ſhould fhew to Saul, according to all Appearance.
They could not therefore deſign to flatter, by this their noble Enterprize. Nothing
but Gratitude and Honour could excite them to it. And thoſe are Principles that will
make Men act moft worthily of themſelves, and fay and do what fhould be faid and
done, in fpite of all Difcouragements, and all the poor Precautions, that Fear and
Selfiſhneſs fuggeft. But they had to do, it feems, with a Prince of the fineſt Make
and Temper poffible, and of a Heart as truly generous, as themſelves were brave and
grateful to their Maſter. He gave their Action its right Turn, and fell to bleffing it,
and praiſing it, and promiſing to requite it himſelf, when there fhould be Occafion.
Bleſſed be ye of the Lord, that ye have fhewed this Kindness to your Lord, even unto Saul,
and have buried him, i. e. done all that Men could do, to teſtify the grateful Senſe you
had of your Deliverance by him; redeemed him from the inſulting Enemies, and paid
him all the Honours that you could, and ſaved the Nation from the Reproach of hav-
ing neglected their dead Prince. And now the Lord fhew Kindness and Truth unto you.
God fhall himſelf return thefe Honours on your Head, and heap his Bleffings on a
thankful People: He hates Ingratitude, of all ill Qualities; it is the Parent of Forget-
fulneſs, and all Offence againſt himſelf; and he exclaims with great Earneftneſs againſt
his People, for nothing more, than for forgetting God their Saviour, and the wonderful
Works that he had done for them. Now it is the fame ignoble, inconfiderate Spirit,
that makes Men ſo ſoon unmindful of their heavenly and their earthly Benefactors; and
therefore David thinks, that God is pleaſed with People of Gratitude and Honour, and
prays him to fhew Kindneſs and Truth to them. Nor is it below the Dignity of in-
ſpired Hiſtory, to record with Blame and Blemiſh, the Ingratitude of Ifrael to the Houfe
of Gideon. It is faid in the Book of Judges, viii. 34. That the Children of Ifrael remem
bred not the Lord their God, who had delivered them out of the Hands of all their Ene-
mies, on every Side; neither fhewed they Kindness to the Houfe of Gideon, according to all
the Goodness which he had fhewed unto them. No Wonder if they who can forget God,
ſhould alſo forget his Inftruments, by whom he works Deliverances; and when they
have received the Benefits, fhould flight the Hand that reached them out.
little by the Way. David does not only pray to God to fhew Kindneſs to thoſe grate-
ful Subjects, but affures them he himſelf will never forget them.- And I, fays he,
will also requite you this Kindness, because ye have done this thing. I, who am, by
God's Appointment, to fucceed your Mafter, will take all Care to encourage and re-
ward fuch honourable Service, and will remember thofe, who in Regard to the Reli-
gion of their Country, and the Honour of their Prince, have done brave and becoming
3 Eee
Actions.
But this a
578
A SERMON preached on the
Actions. This Proceeding of David, is indeed fo reaſonable and juſt, ſo wife and pru-
dent, that it would not appear fo great and generous, if we did not more regard the
Paffions and Affections of private Men, and the Intrigues of Court, and what is ordi-
narily done, than what is fit to be done. Taking therefore Mankind as we find it,
David did not only act wifely, but nobly upon this Occafion, in commending and en-
couraging the Men of Jabefb-Gilead, for the Kindneſs they had fhewed to Saul, the
grateful Senfe they had of his delivering them heretofore, their fetching off his dead Body
from the infulting Victors, and taking away the Reproach of Ifrael. Who ſhall
go out
the ſecond Time, and fight the Battles of that State, that fhews it felf unthankful to
its firſt Deliverer? It is an unaccountable Proceeding, that of the Grecian Common-
wealths of old, to baniſh and difgrace their Generals, after great and extraordinary Per-
formances, and faving of their States from utter Ruin. The Fear of their aſpiring af-
terwards to Government, is not a Bafis for that Building. That Maxim in particular,
That they who are able to fupport a finking State, are able alfo to confound and overthrow
it, is a pernicious one, and falfe, and hatched in a villainous and moſt ungrateful
Court: For it is not always fo; and where it is true, that Men are able, yet there they
are not always inclined to do it; and if it fometimes happen, that both Will and Power
agree together, yet it is better venturing that fometimes, than always to difcourage Gal-
lantry and Virtue. To be fubject to the Infults of open Enemies, is worſe than fearing
a ſuſpected Friend. Is it nothing for a Prince to venture all he has, and Life it ſelf, for
the Preſervation of your Peace and Welfare? And if that Prince ſhould have his private
Aims, and might be pufh'd on by Ambition, Love of Glory, and Defire of Fame, or
of enlarging Empire and Dominion; putting the worſt (which may be all Surmiſe) yet
ſtill the Evils and the Dangers he delivers People from, and all the Benefits acquired by
Victory, and Succefs, and confequential Peace, do very well deferve to be rewarded
with Love, and Praiſe and Admiration, and whatever elfe is fuitable for them to pay,
or him to receive. There are fuch Charms in brave Performances and gallant Actions,
that they do not only tye and bind thoſe who are benefited and advantaged by them,
but conquer Strangers, and the Unconcerned, and oft extort due Praiſe and Admiration
from their very Enemies, and make them love the Wiſdom and the Valour that ſome-
times fubdues them. Let any one in reading Hiftories, though never ſo remote in
Time, and unconcerned in Intereft, fee and obſerve, if his Heart do not unaccountably
fide, and go along with brave and noble Leaders; if he does not rejoice in their Succeſs,
and fall again with their Misfortunes; if he is not moved with generous Indignation, to
find a Prince or People partially unkind to brave Captains, and moſt unthankfully neg-
lecting paft Deliverances: If he does not fecretly wish that State and Commonwealth
may come again to need, and to implore that Help they had ungratefully forgotten, or
not fufficiently eſteemed, and recompenced. Which fhews how natural it is to love
and honour the Defenders of their Country, Life, and Laws, and Liberties; and how
uncomely, thankleſs and ungrateful Uſage to them, fhews in other People. But there
was nothing of this in David's Difpofition, or that of the Men of Jabefb-Gilead: The
one knew how to praiſe and to reward, the grateful and the honourable Acts, which
the other knew how to perform. I also will requite the Kindness you have fhewn to Saul.
There is ſomething fo very good in the Character of David, with Refpect to Saul his
Predeceffor, that it diſtinguiſhes him very much. What he here fays to the Men of
Fabefb-Gilead, is exceedingly handfome and becoming him; but the Concern he
ſhewed at his End, was more difintereſted yet, and the Lamentation that he made over
him and Jonathan, is tender above all Expreffion, and fhews how little he maligned
that Prince's Honours, when he himſelf, in the moſt noble moving Manner poffible,
excites the People to expreſs their juſt Eſteem and Honour of their dead King, by all
the Praiſes and the Sorrows they could utter. Theſe things indeed are not in the Words
of
!
i
579
Death of King WILLIAM.
of the Text, but they go before, and belong to them; and they are the Preface, to
that Purpoſe which David opens in the Text. Therefore now (fays he) let your
your Hands
be ftrengthened, and be ye valiant, for your Mafter Saul is dead; and alfo the House of
Judah have anointed me King over them. From whence it appears, that his Defign
was to gain the Men of Jabefb-Gilead to him; Let your Hands be ftrengthened, and be
ye valiant; be not difinayed at your great Lofs, continue ftill to love and ferve your
Country, and look to find one that will honour and reward fuch dutiful and faithful
People. Whilft Saul was living, I aſked not your Service; but now your Mafter Saul
is dead, and now the House of Judah have anointed me King over them. Theſe are the
Reaſons he uſes to engage them in his IntereftsTheir former King was dead, and
Judah had chofen him, or rather anointed him whom God had chofen, King. What
an Encouragement is here, to good and brave People! The King himſelf commends
and bleffes them for what was paft, and courts their future Service. Happy thofe Days,
when honourable and faithful Service performed to their Country, and dead Prince, re-
commended Men to the Love and Favour of his Succeffor! When they were not con-
ſidered or neglected for the Party they had chofen, but for the Good that they had done,
and for the Duty they had honeftly diſcharged! This was reafonable, this was wife;
but this, becauſe unuſual, was accounted brave and noble. No Prince but ftands in
need of good and faithful Subjects, and, without them, ftands but fingle: And noble
and virtuous Actions do not only recommend, but make Men neceflary. To fide with a
Party, and to ſerve a Turn, does but increaſe a Faction; but to confult and to pro-
mote the general Intereſt of one's Country, is the true laſting Merit, and' will gain Ho-
nour, though it may not Offices; but in a virtuous Reign, it will do both. When
David is the Prince, he baniſhes all little Jealoufies, and poor Sufpicions, looks out for
Merit, and the Men of Courage, Honour, and true Virtue, and cares not though he
find them in the Men of Jabefb-Gilead, who had adhered to Saul, with an unfhaken
Firmneſs, though Saul and David were as oppofite as could be, in the People's Opi-
nion. To them he makes particular, and condeſcending Application, and bids them
be of good Courage, and hope to find in him, one that could well diftinguiſh Merit,
and reward it. For now your Mafter Saul is dead. This was not to reproach their Ser-
vice, and Adheſion to that Prince, nor to infult them on that Lofs; but to remind
them, that he, to whom they owed, and to whom they had payed the greateſt and
moſt honourable Service, was now dead; if Mafter fignifies here any more than King,
it is, to be fure, to their Advantage, that Saul is now called their Mafter, to intimate,
that their Affection and Behaviour to him, was fuch as was peculiar to that Relation;
as if their Love and Duty had been ſomewhat perfonal, and lefs indefinite than that
which Subjects pay their Princes, which differs much, we know, from that which Ser-
vants pay their Mafters. It is as if he had faid, you have diſcharged the Duty of Sub-
jects, with the Love and Diligence of menial Servants, and thoſe of the Houfhold ;
but now your King and Maſter is dead; and as he cannot require, fo he is capable of
receiving, no farther Service at your Hands. You have redeemed his Fame, and reſcued
his dead Body, with the fame Zeal and Pains with which you ferved him living; pre-
ſerve thoſe good and faithful Principles, and transfer the Expreffions of them to him,
to whom your Allegiance is now due, upon your Mafter's Death.For now alfo, the
Houfe of Judah have anointed me King over them. The Tribe of Judah was the only
Tribe that unanimouſly adhered to the Choice that God had made of David, to rule
his People; no Queſtion but a great many, of the other Tribes, did alfo concur with
them, i. e. particular People among them; but no Tribe in general faw fo fully into
the Purpoſe and Appointment of God to make him King. The Fame of God's De-
fignation, and his being anointed King by Samuel, the ſtanding Prophet of the Times,
and the Perſecutions he underwent from Saul, upon this Head, muft needs have made
it
580
A SERMON preached on the
it notorious through all that ſmall Country, that David was to fucceed Saul, when it
ſhould pleaſe God to open the Way by Death, to that great Honour. But the Gene-
rality of the Tribes did not plainly underſtand this Buſineſs, but ſtill adhered to the
Houſe of Saul, and thought of fixing the Crown to his Pofterity; which is the Reaſon
of David's thus applying himſelf to the Men of Jabefb-Gilead, and I ſuppoſe to other
People in the like manner. And to induce them to affent, he affures them that the
Tribe of Judah, the Chief and Royal Tribe, from whence the King Meffiah fhould
proceed, had already complied with God's Promiſe, and anointed him King over them.
Whoſe Example, he hopes, the reft will follow, to prevent thoſe dreadful Confequences
that always follow Civil Wars, and States divided.
This is the Hiſtory. And the Application of theſe Particulars will be very proper in
ſome Reſpects; in others not at all. And First, Our Mafter Saul is dead. How are
the Mighty fallen! And the Weapons of War perished. Friendſhip and Honour helped
(I fee) to compoſe that fine exalted Elegy; its noble Strains are moſtly owing to the
unexampled Love that knit the Souls of Jonathan and David, in Bonds, that even in
Death were not to be divided. Whereas our Matter would, in Truth and Juſtice,
fooner opprefs, than fail, the Man that ſhould attempt a Lamentation. There is in-
deed no great Reſemblance betwixt theſe two Princes, nor is there any need of raiſing
the Value of the one, at the Expence of the other. It is enough to the Purpoſe in
Hand, to remember, that what the King of Ifrael was to Fabefb-Gilead, that was the
dead King to all theſe Nations, and in Confequence to others alfo, namely, their great
Deliverer and Defender. Muſt not the Terms of our Submiffion and our Life have
been, to have been Slaves, and to have offered up our Reaſon, and Underſtanding, to
the great Reproach of human Nature? And how much leſs is that, than having our
right Eyes thrust out? Religion and our Liberty were the Conditions of the Covenant
that was to be betwixt us; not that we offered them, but that nothing leſs would make
our Peace, or ferve our Adverſaries Turn. And I am always glad to think thoſe two
Conditions go together, and that they who would be our Lords, will not accept of one
without the other. From theſe hard Terms the King did, at the Kingdom's Call,
deliver us: And if we have not equally efteemed this Bleffing, with the Men of Ja-
befb-Gilead, if we have not received it with equal Gratitude, we know who it is
breaks off the Parallel, and where the Diſhonour lies: We ſhall be found unworthy of
the like Protection, though, if it pleaſe God fo to puniſh us, we may fall again into
the like Hazards. Nor is it yet too late, to make Enquiries of this Nature. For though
He is now no more capable, or fenfible of any grateful Honours that may fall upon his
Perſon; yet, for our own Sake, we ſhould glorify his noble Acts, and ſhould purſue
his Memory, with all the Praiſe and Gratitude that it deſerves; to fatisfy the World
abroad, how much we value our Religion and our Liberties, and how cloſely we will
abide by them, by fhewing how we valued, loved, and honoured him, living and dead,
whom we eſteemed the great Preſerver of them both. It ſhould not, methinks, be
ſaid, that all the World befides, ſhould know how to prize his Life better, than we
who had the Uſe of it. Can all the World befides, admire that Probity, that Juſtice,
and unblemiſhed Honour, that adorned his Life, and we alone be infenfible, who
reaped the Fruits of them? I challenge all our Hiftories, to produce a Prince, in all
refpects, his Equal: I call the differing Humours, Intereſts, and Affections and Reli-
gions of the Rulers of the World to witneſs, whether they ever found a Man to centre
in, like him. With whom they could fo unfufpiciouſly concert their Meaſures, ſo ſafely
truſt their Intereſts, and on whoſe Honour they depended fo entirely. Could all this
Confidence be built, but on the Experience of his great Difcernment, his mighty Know-
ledge how to ballance Powers, and moſt diſintereſted Integrity, and Virtue? Where
are the Bargains that he ever ftruck for his particular Advantage? What Selfiſhneſs has yet
appeared
Death of King WILLIAM.
581
appeared in all his Conduct, for more than thirty Years? He might have raiſed his Seat
upon his Native Country's Liberties; his very Enemies would have fupported him, in
thoſe Pretences; but he affected no Honours but what were freely offered him, there,
or elſewhere: And if the Hands that reached them, would have pulled them back,
his Ambition, that was only uſeful, knew how to wear, as well as to deferve them.
Can theſe, and other his great Qualities, (a few of which ferve to ennoble other Princes)
immortalize his Name abroad, make him the Standard of true Honour, and all Royal
Virtues, and we at home think meanly of them? No Infamy, I think, could fall upon
our Country, equal to this Ingratitude, and Blindneſs; nor more difcourage brave At-
tempts, either abroad or at home, in our Defence, than to forget, or flight, fuch Vir-
tue. I would not ſeem to prefage things fo diſhonourable, and unworthy of a fenfible
and brave People; if all Nations did not abound with poor and impotent, with dark,
malicious, and malignant Spirits, that feed upon Detraction, Calumny, and Lyes, and
are ſet on Fire of Hell; and our own, as much as others, if not diſcountenanced by
Men of Wiſdom, Virtue, and Authority. I will end this Head, when I have wiſhed,
that neither we at home, nor our Allies abroad, may ever feel this Lofs fit heavier on
us, than it does at preſent.
Secondly, Since our Mafter Saul is dead, -We muſt encourage one another as
David did the Men of Jabefb-Gilead.Let your Hands be ftrengthened, and be
ye
valiant. Theſe Words do literally apply themſelves to Soldiers, who are Men of their
Hands, but they are alfo proper enough, to all People, and bid them take good Heart,
forget their Loffes, and refume their Wiſdom and their Courage, and be as uſeful in
their ſeveral Places as they can: Do, what they did for Saul, to David; exert their ut
moſt Powers, in the Defence of their Religion, and their Country; and more (if that
may be) fince more does now feem neceffary. Our Lofs is but too great already, and
we ourſelves ſhall make it greater inuch, if, with the King, we alfo lofe our Hope and
Confidence. This Blow will ſtrike us as deep, as even our Enemies believe and wiſh,
even to the Heart, if it do not excite us to Steddineſs and Unanimity in all our Coun
cils and Proceedings. What a Reverſe of Fortune would that be! If this amazing
Loſs would heal our Differences, confound our Factions, and reconcile us to one ano-
ther! I know of nothing that could make amends for it, but fuch an Ïffue. And fuch
a Lofs is, fure, as ftrong a Neceffity, to bring fuch Union on, as any thing we can
imagine; for how can we unite abroad, if we divide at home? And how can we fup-
ply that Lofs, without a perfect Agreement both with our Friends and one another!
But whither are we driven, to look for fo fair a Day, from a Cloud that darkens al-
moſt all the Country? Well may we wiſh for fuch a Time, but who can expect his
Death fhould produce fuch good Effects, when all the Care and Influence of his Life,
could contribute but just enough to keep us quiet? Let us, however, make the beſt of
it, and believe we cannot quarrel now with fuch Security. Let us ſtay till we have
better Leiſure to difagree, and do one another Miſchief. Let us firft unite againſt our
Common Enemy, and when that Matter is diſpatched, reſume our former Differences,
remembring carefully where we left off. Laſtly, Our Hands muſt needs be ſtrengthened,
and we muſt be valiant, becauſe we have also anointed David King over us. We have
a Princeſs on the Throne, who both deſerves and wants all the Duty and Affection that
Subjects can pay to Her, and under whom, if we be peaceable, unanimous, and obe-
dient, we may, by the Bleffing of God, live very happily. One Female Reign, as it
was long, fo was it the moſt glorious to this Nation, that we almoſt ever had. And
had it pleafed God to have fpared another Life, there was nothing Great and Good
but what we might well have hoped for from it. Nor is our preſent Queen nearer al-
lied to Her in Blood, than in fincere Religion, Virtue, Purity of Life, and all good
Qualities, that can adorn a private Perſon, or fit her for the Throne. Let us remember
3 Fff
She
582
A SERMON preached on the
She is all that God hath ſpared us, of our native Princes, of English Heart, and Pro-
teſtant Religion; and treat Her with that tender Duty and Fidelity, that is requifite to
make a Sovereign eafy, and a People happy. She will be exerciſed with Cares enow,
it is probable, from Difficulties abroad, and therefore all good Subjects will be careful
of diſturbing and perplexing Her Affairs at home. It is a wrong Turn that People give
to Exhortations of Obedience, Duty, and Fidelity to Princes, when they conceit they
only tend to advance the Glory and Advantage of the Governours; it is the Peoples
Peace, and Happineſs, and Plenty and Security, that is intended moſt by fuch Dif-
courſes; and which are beſt provided for, and beſt affured, by being quiet, good, and
dutiful, obedient Subjects. Is it not fo, in all Relations elfe, as well as this? Are not
thoſe Children happieſt who obſerve their Parents beſt, with moſt obſequious Love,
and dutiful Obedience? Do not thoſe Servants live the eaſieſt, who live in conſtant Or-
der, and under the Directions of reaſonable and prudent Maftèrs? Is not the Diſcharge
of every Duty the Way to Praiſe, and Quiet, and Security? Is it not therefore every
one's Advantage, to live in Order and Subjection? Muft not theſe Duties now and then
be preſſed, becauſe they have been ſometimes handled indifcreetly? To flatter Princes
with a Power that belongs not to them, is but to enfiare them to their Ruine, in the
Experiment; and to ſet Subjects looſe from their Obedience to the Laws, is to deſtroy
them by their Liberty. There is no fuch thing as Peace or Safety to be had, but in a
due Subordination of Powers, and paying each the Obedience and Submiffion that is
lawfully required of them. We can no more be happy without Obedience to our Go-
vernours, than we can live without our daily Food. And we have now Occafion,
more than ever, to fhew our felves good Subjects. The Eyes of all the World will be
fixed upon us, to obferve how we behave our felves on this Occafion; our Friends, to
ſee if we be worth their Friendſhip; our Enemies, to find our feeble Part, and make
their Advantage of us. We must therefore fhew them both, that we are much at
Unity with one another, that we centre all in dutiful Obedience to our Queen, and
that our Parties only now contend, who ſhall deferve Her favourable Regards the beſt,
by their Affection and Fidelity to Her Perfon and Government, by Virtue and true
Merit, and ſerving honeſtly their Country. Theſe things will give new Life and Hopes
to the one, and Rage, and Diſappointment, and Deſpair to the other. They have
long faid, with Efau, in their Hearts, The Days of Mourning for my Father, are at
Hand, and then will I flay Jacob. Let us fhew them, that they built more Hopes on
that diſaſtrous Day, than were reaſonable; that though it were a much-lamented Day,
yet that it robbed us not of all our Courage and Refolution; that it gave us Grief more
than enough, but did not leave us deftitute, nor make us careleſs of our Safety: And
that we will not encreaſe our Lofs, by giving them any Advantage, by fhewing any
Weakneſs or Diſtraction. In a Word, we muſt each of us do, within our private
Sphere, all that becomes true Engliſhmen, that love the Liberties and Honour of their
Country, and all that becomes the Profeffors of the Reformed Religion, in Oppofition
to that great Corruption of Chriſtianity, Popery; to the fecuring our felves at home, to
the animating our Friends abroad, and to the defeating the inextinguiſhable Malice of
our Enemies. And to the doing this, let us be fure to call in God into our Party,
make him our Friend, our Patron, and Protector, to which the Way lies always open,
by living in his Fear, by walking holily before him, by being honeft, fober, virtuous
Chriſtians. It is not a Prophet, nor a King, but the Lord of Hofts, that is indeed,
the Chariots and the Horsemen of Ifrael. It is to Him we muſt betake our ſelves, in
whoſe Favour only there is Life, and who will be our fureft Refuge in the Day of
Trouble: It is He alone, who can fupply thoſe mighty Loffes He of late hath multi-
plied upon our Heads. We placed, perhaps, too high a Confidence in Arms of Fleſh.
Never was Life, indeed, fo made to truft in, and deceive a People, as this laft, of
which
Death of King WILLIAM.
583
which we are bereaved! What could we not have looked for, from it? And how
much Earneft did it give us, of Security, of Victory and Succefs, of Peace and Happi-
nefs, and Settlement! And how are all thefe Expectations vaniſhed in a Moment!
Theſe things muſt teach us to depend on Help, that never yet has failed thoſe who
would afk it, and deferve it. Let us therefore (to make an End) intreat of Him, who
is the eternal Source of all true Comforts, that we may, with Truth and Reaſon, ad-
dreſs to him, in the Words of the 44th Pfalm, Verfe 5. Thou art our King, O God,
fend Help unto Jacob; through thee will we overthrow our Enemies, and in thy Name
will we tread them under that rife up against us; for we will not truft in our Bow, it
is not our Sword that ſhall help us : But it is thou that faveft us from our Enemies; and
putteft them to Confufion that hate us: We make our Boaft of God all Day long, and will
praife thy Name for ever.
A SERMON
584
A
SERMON
On the QUEEN's Acceffion to the Throne, Preached
at St. Auſtins, in 1703.
2 CHRON. Chap. IX. Ver. 8.
Bleſſed be the Lord thy God, which delighted in Thee to fet Thee on
his Throne, to be King for the Lord thy God. Because thy God
loved Ifrael, to eſtabliſh them for ever: therefore made he Thee King
over them, to do Judgment and Justice.
W
HEN the Queen of Sheba had proved the Wiſdom of Solomon, and feen
the State and the Magnificence in which he lived, with the fine Order and
Oeconomy of all his Houfhold, there was no more Spirit in her, the fell,
as it were, into an Ecſtaſy of Admiration, and bleffes God, the King, his
Servants, and his People, who were fo happy in each other. Bleſſed be the Lord thy
God, who delighted in Thee, to fet Thee on his Throne, to be King for the Lord thy God:
Then for the People-Becauſe thy God loved Ifrael, to establish them for ever, there-
fore made he thee King over them, to do Judgment and Justice.
In which Words we have to confider, First, The Goodneſs of God to Solomon, in
ſetting him on the Throne of his Father David. Secondly, The Bleffing God intended
for his People, in giving them ſo wiſe and worthy a Prince as Solomon. Thirdly, The
End for which God placed him on the Throne, to do Judgment and Justice, which
was alſo the Means, by which the People were deſigned to be ſo happy under him.
I. Firſt, Of the Goodneſs of God to Solomon in ſetting him upon the Throne,
Bleffed be the Lord thy God, who delighted in thee, to fet thee on his Throne, to be King
for the Lord thy God. Solomon was not the eldeſt Son of David, but was preferred,
by the particular Favour and Appointment of God, before the reft, even before he was
born; and was called, by his Command, the Beloved of the Lord, or one in whom the
Lord delighted, and chofen to fucceed his Father, and (becauſe a Man of Peace) to
build the House of God. His fetting therefore on the Throne, (to the Diſinheriſon of
his elder Brethren) was a peculiar Favour of God. But this Throne is alſo called his
Throne, i. e. God's Throne, and he is faid to be King for the Lord his God. The
Jews, to the Days of Samuel, lived under a Theocracy, or the immediate Govern-
ment of God; and the Queen might perhaps think it was fo ftill, notwithſtanding ſhe
faw they had a King: But it was not fo, for, by afking a King, though never fo
good, God tells Samuel, 1 Sam. viii. 7. They have not rejected thee, but they have rejected
me, that I ſhould not reign over them. Yet ſtill becauſe the People were God's People, in
Covenant with him, and favoured by him, above all the Nations of the Earth, and be-
caufe
t
A SERMON preached, &c.
585
cauſe he ſtill eſpouſed their Cauſe, and they ſtill obſerved the Laws and Statutes which
he
gave them by Mofes, the Throne is called his Throne, and he is faid to be King for
the Lord his God; as alſo becauſe he was chofen by God, like Saul and David be-
fore him, to fit upon the Throne and judge his People. It was yet an Elective King-
dom with Reſpect to God, (as all others are) but with Reſpect to the People, it was,
and was to be hereditary, and the eldeſt Son was to fucceed, as Solomon himſelf declares,
when he bad his Mother ask of him the Kingdom for Adonijah, for he was his elder
Brother: So that the Favour of God was ſtill the more fignal in his Preference. Theſe
are then the Reaſons why the Throne of Ifrael is called the Lord's Throne, and why
Solomon is faid to be King for the Lord his God. And if ever any one might more
properly be called God's Vicegerent, than another, it was Solomon: He was to reign
over God's People, in God's Stead. Who can doubt, after this, but that he was to
be the beſt King that ever reigned? That he was to govern himſelf by the Rule of
God's Word? And his People according to the Laws that God had given them, in all
Particulars where thoſe Laws were plain; and in all others where they were doubtful,
with the greateſt Reaſon, and with his Eye perpetually upon their trueſt Intereſt and
Happineſs? When a Man has ſaid, that a King is God's Vicegerent, he has faid, in
Effect, what God himſelf ſaid, by the Mouth of David, in his laft dying Words,
2 Sam. xxiii. 2, 3. The Spirit of the Lord pake by me, and his Word was in my
Tongue- The God of Ifrael faid-The Rock of Ifrael spake to me-
What was
it, in the Name of Wonder, after all this Preparation? This He that ruleth over
Men, must be just, ruling in the Fear of God. A Speech moft worthy of the King of
Ifrael! Moft worthy of the King of Kings, even God himself! This it is to be God's
Vicegerent; to be King for the Lord his God.
It is a pitiful and ſhameful thing, that Men, either in Ignorance, or Flattery, where-
ever they meet with fuch noble Expreffions of the Kingly Office, as, That his Power
is of God, and, The Ordinance of God, and that He is in God's Stead, and His Vice-
gerent, and the like ſhould either give it a wrong Turn, by giving the Prince,
from thence, a lawlefs and unbounded Power, becaufe that God's is fo; or only en-
force from thence, the Obedience and Subjection of the People; without Referve:
Never concerning themſelves with fhewing the indifpenfable Obligation which all
thoſe noble Expreffions lay upon Princes, to be just, and to rule in the Fear of God,
and, in all things, to repreſent that great Original from whence they derive. They
have their Power from God, no doubt of it; it is therefore only the Power of doing
Good, for God himſelf has no other Power: They cannot then exceed their Princi-
pal; he can give them no other Power than what he is inveſted with himſelf: They
can therefore have no Power from him, to do Injustice, Violence, Oppreffion, or any
Manner of Miſchief. They are in God's Stead, i. e. to do as God would have them
do; as God himſelf would do, were he a King on Earth; and is not that the beſt
in the World for Mankind? Say but The Lord is King -and every one will an-
fwer-The Earth may be glad thereof, yea the Multitude of the Ifles may be glad
thereof. For though Clouds and Darkneſs are round about him, yet Righteoufness and
Judgment are the Habitation of his Seat. We cannot always difcern the Reaſon of
his Difpenfations, nor the Rules of his Providence and Government of the World;
but knowing he is God, we know affuredly that he is always juſt and righteous. And
a Prince cannot be in God's Stead, unleſs he be alſo juſt and righteous. He cannot
be his Vicegerent, but by repreſenting him in thoſe Perfections (according to his con-
fined Abilities and Powers) with which he rules the World.
This is the trueft Ufe of deriving Power from God, and of afferting Government
to be the Ordinance of God. And this is the Honour, Privilege, and Advantage of
3 G g g
Princes,
586
A SERMON preached on the
Princes, that they are in God's Stead, his Subſtitutes, and Vicegerents, to diftribute
Juſtice to Mankind, to keep their Nations in Peace and Order, to encourage and pro-
tect the virtuous and good People, to fecure them from the Malice and Violence of
wicked and ungovernable ones, and to puniſh ſuch as ſtand out againſt theſe Ends of
Government, that are ſo uſeful and fo neceffary to the Being of Society, and the Wel-
fare of Mankind. This is their Glory, and their Happineſs, that they are God's
peculiar Inftruments, by whom he fhowers down upon the World all the Benefits of
good Government, Security from Violence abroad, and Injustice at home, and all the
Advantages of Peace, and Plenty, and Enjoyments of the Fruits of their honeft La-
bours, and of the Bleffing of God upon their Diligence. They have the mighty
Pleaſure of having continual Opportunities of doing Good, which is a great Bleiling,
and a fignal Favour of God. And to make the Diſcharge of this great Truſt, com-
mitted to them by God, more certain and affured, they are cloathed with the greateſt
Honours that People can pay them; they live in the greateſt Affluence that Nature can
provide, and Art improve; they have whatever Satisfaction can be had in the World;
and all their People feem difpofed to give it them, and fet themſelves to do whatever
may be pleafing in their Sight. If there be any Happineſs to be had in receiving or con-
ferring Honours, in ufing or beſtowing Riches, in making and rewarding Friendſhips;
if any Pleaſure in Meat, or Drink, or Ornament; in being fingular, diftinguiſhed, and
fupream; if any thing external can make Princes happy, their high Condition and Eſtate
procures it them. So that they have great Reafon to eſteem themſelves favoured of God,
that are ſo charged with the Bleffings of this World, above other People. All theſe Bleſ
fings are the natural Reſults and Conſequences of the Power and Super-eminence of
their Station: But they are alſo to be confidered as fo many Encouragements to the dif
charging their great Truft, and ſo much Recompence for doing it. They are to do the
greateſt Good to their People, and their People are to return them, in Lieu of it, all
the Honour, Pleaſure, and Advantage that they poffibly can. There is therefore Rea-
fon enough, you fee, for Kings to give God Thanks for fetting them on the Throne;
not only for felecting them, to be the happy Inftruments of all the Good that he in-
tends the World by Government, but alſo for all the natural Recompences of Honour,
Pleaſure, Riches, and Advantages, that attend their Dignity. The Queen of Sheba
ſpoke with good Propriety and Reaſon, when the faid Bleed be the Lord thy God,
which delighted in thee, to fet thee on his Throne, to be King for the Lord thy God.
II. Let us fee, in the fecond Place, to the Bleffing that God intended to his People,
by giving them fo wife and worthy a Prince as Solomon then was. Because thy God
loved Ifrael to eſtabliſh them for ever, therefore made he thee King over them. Be-
caufe God loved Solomon, he made him King over his chofen People; and becauſe
God loved Ifrael, he made Solomon their King: The King muft therefore be happy
in his People, and the People muſt be happy in their King, or otherwife the Love of
God, and the Bleffing he intended to both of them, will be defeated. We muft not
judge of God's Love to either King or People, by the Event, but by the Purpofe and
Deſign of God in this Relation. They were intended to be, and they might be,
happy in each other; and whenever they are not ſo, there is a Fault on one Side.
How will Solomon know, that the Lord delighted in him, when he fet him on his
Throne, but by finding it an eaſy Seat? By feeing his People pay him that Honour
and Obedience, that is proper to make a King happy? And proper alſo to make
themſelves happy? And how will Ifrael know that their God loved them, to eſtabliſh
them for ever, in making Solomon their King, unleſs they find themſelves happy and
eafy under his Government? The Purpofe indeed of God is good, that they ſhould,
each of them, be happy; but that Purpoſe will never take Effect, unleſs each of them
believe
QUEEN's Accèffion to the Throne.
587
believe it is their Duty, to contribute in their proper Place, to make the other happy,
and make it their Buſineſs fo to do. And whether each be happy or no, each will
judge for themſelves, by what they find and feel. The Prince will, certainly, judge
whether he is happy, in all the Inftances of Honour and Obedience due from the
People; and the People will feel whether they are happy in all the Effects and Fruits
of a wife and righteous Adminiſtration. Can any thing be plainer than this, that Solo-
mon will judge, whether God be to be bleffed, for making him King over reel, un
lefs that Ifrael honour and obey him as they ought to do, and he find himself happy
in them? And that Ifrael will judge, whether God loved them indeed, in making
Solomon their King, unleſs they find their King purſue their true Intereft and Happi-
neſs? It is a vain thing to tell either Prince or People, that they are happy in each
other, if they themſelves do not find that they are truly fo. And after all the fine
Diſcourſes that may be made on either Side, there is nothing certain but this, that a
Prince can never be happy in his People, without their Submiffion and Obedience to
the KNOWN LAWS, nor a People happy in their Prince, unless he govern
by thoſe KNOWN LAWS. Shew us a Prince in all the World, that is happy
(as a Prince) where the Subjects are feditious, or at Liberty to break or defpife the
known Laws: Or fhew us a People happy, where the Prince is arbitrary and bound
to nothing, but governs by his Will and Pleaſure.
I do not pretend to determine, that the People who are born in thofe unhappy
Places, where the Princes are moſt arbitrary, are not equally obliged to obey their
Princes, with thoſe who are born under the gentleſt and moſt moderate Governments,
to obey their Princes; but am inclined to think they muft, till they can innocently
mend their hard Condition. But every one can ſee they are not happy: They enjoy
not the true Bleffing of Government: They are not happy in their Prince, however
happy their Prince may be in them: They are not the People the Queen here fpeaks
of; That is not the Government that God intended to be fuch a Bleffing; for that
was, apparently, to blefs them both, and bless them in each other. The King was
to bleſs God for being King of fuch a People; and the People were to blefs God for
having fuch a King: This they could never do, unleſs they were happy in each other
the People must therefore be happy as well as the Prince, if they muſt blefs God for
him. In all good Governments thoſe Matters go together: And when a King and
People are confidered in their publick Capacities, and with Relation to one another,
it is
very hard to think how one fhould be happy, without the other.
I confefs that moſt of the Kingdoms of the World make a fad fhift to divide thefe
Intereſts: And provided the Princes be happy, all is well, and little or no Regard is
had to the People. It is enough for them, it ſeems, if their Princes be rich and
powerful, able to take their Neighbours Towns and Countries; and able to hinder
other Princes from taking theirs; able to do a great deal of Miſchief to other Princes
Subjects, at the Expence of the Lives and Eſtates of their own; and able to protect
their own People, from the Violence of their Neighbours: And---one can go no
farther -for they will not be able to protect them from their own Arbitrary Vio-
lence, Oppreffions, and Exactions. It is Happineſs enough they think, that they de-
fend their Prey from other Lions, to devour it at their own Leifure themfelves. This
is, for ought I fee, all the Happineſs that moſt other Nations of the World enjoy:
They are happy in having Princes rich and powerful, full of Honour and Magni-
ficence, Empires of large Extent, Caſtles and Forts impregnable, Armies innumerable,
and Garriſons in every City. But if this be the Happineſs of a People, it is, furely,
fuch as is not to be envied: The Happineſs of a People, muſt appear in the People,
and be felt by the People. And it is not from the Splendor and Profufion of á Court,
nor
588
A SERMON preached on the
1
nor Glitterings of the Camp, nor the fine Habits of a numerous Guard, nor ftately
Edifices of a few great Men, and their luxurious Way of living: It is not from theſe,
that Strangers ought to form a Judgment of the People's Happineſs (for all theſe things
may be fo much at the People's Expence, that they may be in Truth the more un-
happy, for theſe ſo fine Appearances of Happineſs) but from their Eafe, their Plenty,
and their Liberty: Then it is right; there is the happy Country, where both the Prince
and People too are happy: Not in the airy and fantaſtick Notions of a Prince's Glory
and Renown; but in his wife and righteous Government; his feaſonable difpenfing
Juſtice and Mercy, his Care, Affection, and Encouragement of all his People. Thefe
are the Ways of eſtabliſhing a People for ever; and thefe are the Ways of eſtabliſhing
the Throne alfo : And where they are both eſtabliſhed, there is the Government that
God intends to be a Bleſſing to a Nation. So that whether we treat of a Prince's
being happy in his People, or of a People being happy in their Prince, the Means of
making them fo, is, in the Third Place, the doing Judgment and Justice; which is
alfo the End of God's placing Solomon on the Throne.
III. Bleſſed be the Lord thy God, which delighted in thee, to fet thee on his Throne,
to be King for the Lord thy God! To what End?to do Judgment and Justice.
God delights in no Man's Perfon, Quality, or Condition; but He delights in thoſe
who fuftain their Character and Condition properly, i. e. who diſcharge wifely and
well the Duties of the feveral Relations in which they ftand engaged to one another,
a good Servant, and a good Mafter, a good Father, and a good Son, a good Subject,
and a good Prince: And if he delighted to fet Solomon on the Throne, it was in Or-
der to his fitting there moſt uſefully: His Sceptre is a Sceptre of Righteouſneſs, and
if he put it into any Prince's Hands, it is to be ſtill a Sceptre of Righteouſneſs, and
when it ceaſes to be fo, how is it God's Sceptre? And fo is his Throne, Righteousness
and Judgment are the Habitation of his Seat. He will therefore place no one in his
Throne, but whom he intends and commands to do Judgment and Justice. Theſe
Words are therefore to be added and fupplied to that Part of the Text that refers to
King Solomon, as furely in Reaſon, and Senfe, and God's Purpoſe, as they are found
in that which relates to the People-Becauſe that God loved Ifrael to establish them
for ever, therefore made he thee King over them, to do Judgment and Juftice. God
loved Ifrael, and would eſtabliſh them for ever; the Means he pitched upon, were,
making Solomon their King. How would that do it? By his doing Judgment and
Juftice. That was the Way God took to eſtabliſh his People, by giving them a Prince
that would do Judgment and Juftice.
Do what you can with this great Eastern Complement, turn it which Way you will,
and nothing will be clear but this-That Judgment and Juſtice are the Things, in
which both Prince and People are to be happy. The Prince in the great Honour,
Pleafure, and Rewards, that naturally as well as by God's Bleffing, accompany the
doing fo much good to Mankind: And the People, in the Security and great Advan-
tages they reap from a Righteous Adminiſtration of Juftice. And, indeed, whoever
fays that Government is of God, and that the Powers are ordained of God, muſt ſay
that both the Governors and governed, are intended to be bleffed thereby, for God
intends nothing but Good to Mankind. Natural Reafon fays fo, by the Mouth of
this great Princeſs: And God himſelf fays fo (as we have feen) by the Mouth of King
David. He that ruleth over Men, muſt be juſt, ruling in the Fear of God. He muft
not only fee Juſtice done betwixt Man and Man, and hinder one Subject from inju-
ring and oppreffing another (for this the greateſt Tyrants in the World do, for their
own fake, and to keep themſelves upon their Thrones) but he is alfo obliged to be
himſelf juſt, and not to injure and oppreſs his People; he muſt rule in the Fear of
God;
QUEEN's Acceffion to the Throne.
589
God; that can never be, unless he be himſelf afraid of doing Injuftice. That is the
Difference betwixt an Arbitrary Prince, and one that governs by Known Laws:
They both of them intend to fecure their Subjects from the Violence and Wrongs of
one another; and their publick Courts of Juftice are equally beneficial to their People :
-But the Arbitrary Prince does what he pleaſes with his Subjects Lives, Eftates, and
Liberties; whereas the Prince who governs by Known Laws, knows he can no more
injure his Subject, than he can ſuffer one Subject to injure another. He rules in Ju-
ftice and the Fear of God, and is therefore reſtrained himſelf from doing Evil. And
unless the doing Judgment and Juftice, oblige the Prince himſelf, the People can, at
beſt, be but half-ſecure, and half-happy; fecure from one another, but not from Him
who is the ableft to injure and oppreſs them; which, I fay again, does not anſwer the
End of God's appointing Government: His Ordinance is perfect, and therefore ſecures
from all Injustice whatſoever.
I do not here meddle with what human Reſtraints, Princes of different Countries
may be laid under, from doing Violence, and great Injuftices, or who fhall take Ac-
count of that; I am only concerned to ſay, that, according to the Rules of Reaſon,
and God's Word, the Princes of the Earth are as much reftrained themſelves from
doing Injustice, as they are bound to fee it done betwixt Man and Man: And that,
without it, what David faid would fignify little, and the Queen of Sheba's Com-
pliment, be very imperfect; for, the making Solomon King could not be a Token of
God's loving Ifrael, if the King were not obliged to do Judgment and Juftice to
them.
The New Teſtament fays the fame thing with the Old: And the 13th Chapter of
the Epiſtle to the Romans, is the Place where Princes are to learn the End of their
Inftitution, and the Reafon of their Authority, as well as the People to learn the
Duty of Submiffion, and the Reafon and Ufe of their Obedience. The Powers that
be, are ordained of God, then no Body doubts it is for good Ends. Rulers are not a
Terror to good Works, i. e. they are not intended to be fo, by God's Ordinance; the
Virtuous and the Innocent have therefore nothing to fear from Rulers. Wilt thou
then not be afraid of the Power? do that which is Good, and thou shalt have Praife
of the fame; for he is the Minifter of God to thee for Good. But if thou doeft that
which is Evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the Sword in vain; for he is the Minifter
of God, a Revenger to execute Wrath upon him that doeth Evil. The ſhort of which
is, that the Magiftrate is God's Miniſter to puniſh wicked People, and to encourage
and protect the Innocent, the Virtuous, and Obedient Subject. This is the End of
Government, this is of God, and all of it good; and every Body fees how uſeful an
Ordinance it is, having no other Aim, no Eye to any thing befides the Welfare of
the Subject; which is alſo the very Reaſon of the Submiffion and Obedience of the
Subject. It is altogether for their Profit, There can be no fuch thing as Judgment
and Juſtice adminiftred, without the Obedience of the People. If the lawful Magi-
ftrate, in the Execution of Laws, may be difobeyed, then is Government at an End,
and all the Ufes of it loft, which unavoidably turns to the Deſtruction of the People.
For, Governors (as St. Peter fays) are fent by God, and therefore are to be fubmitted
to, becauſe they are fent by Him, for the Punishment of Evil-doers, and for the Praife
of them that do well; and therefore without Subjection and Obedience, the Wicked
would eſcape Puniſhment, and the Good would be difcouraged, which would deſtroy
the End of Government.
་...
There is not, indeed, a Word in all the Scriptures, relating to Government, but
what agrees with the Compliment which the Queen of Sheba here makes to Solomon;
that the Favour God defigns to a Prince, when he fets him on the Throne, is, th
giving
3
Hhh
1
590
A SERMON preached on the
giving him the Abilities and Opportunities of doing the greateſt Good to Mankind, by
doing Juftice and Judgment, which naturally rewards him here, with Praiſe and ever-
lafting Benedictions, with Honour, and Pre-eminence, with Power, and Wealth, and
all the Advantages this World can give, as well as intitles him, through God's Good-
neſs, to an immortal Crown, and everlafting Happineſs hereafter: And that the Fa-
vour God deſigns to a People, by giving them a good King, is only feen in the
Effects of a wife and righteous Government. This is what the Queen of the South
came to obferve, and what fhe thought fhe faw, in Solomon's Government, and for
which the breaks out into Admiration and great Praiſe, and fays in the Text, Bleffed
be the Lord thy God, bleffed by thee for this thy People, and bleffed by this
People, for giving thee to be their King. There must therefore be Reaſons on both
Sides, to give to God this Bleffing. And becauſe this was the greateſt Compliment
the Queen of Sheba could pay to Solomon, for all the Honour, Satisfaction, and Royal
Entertainment, ſhe received at his Hands, and after all the Obſervations ſhe had made
of his great Wealth, and Splendor, the Wiſdom of his Government, and the moſt
beautiful and orderly Oeconomy of his Houfhold. Becauſe of this, I believed it
would be very proper to the Occafion of our coming here together on this Day,
which is to celebrate the Inauguration of the Queen, and to give God Thanks, for
fetting Her upon the Throne of Her Anceſtors.
Bleſſed therefore be the Lord Her God, who delighted in Her, for ferving him, from
her earlieſt Infancy, with a moft reaſonable and unaffected Piety, and with moſt
exemplary Virtue, and fet Her on His Throne, to rule for the Lord Her God! His
Throne more properly, I hope, than any Throne, this Day, in all the World, not only
for his Chrift's Religion here profeffed, and here eſtabliſhed on the right and ancient
Bottom (ancient as Chriſtianity it felf first fettled by the Apoſtles) but alſo for that
happy Temperament of Government, by which the People live as eafy as their Prince;
which does as certainly pleaſe God, as he is certainly diſpleaſed with Tyranny, Vexa-
tion, and Oppreffion of a People: And on this Throne may She long rule for the
Lord Her God, long to promote his Glory, and the true Religion.
No Prince ſeems more difpofed to remember in whofe Stead She reigns, and whofe
Authority She hath; attending wholly to his Service, and the Benefit of thoſe who are
committed to Her Charge: Affecting no fufpicious Power, nor ufing her acknow-
ledged one, to any Purpoſes but the doing Judgment and Juftice. So that if by our
Submiffion and Obedience, which make a Throne a fecure Seat, and by our Zeal
and dutiful Affection, which make it an eaſy one, we make theſe firſt Words fit
pro-
per
in her Mouth, and give her Cauſe to bless the Lord her God, for placing her on
fuch a Throne, to govern fuch a People; we have all the Reaſon in the World to
hope, and promiſe our felves, that what follows will be alfo true, and
proper for
who are her People, to fay, Because our God loved us, to establish us for ever, therefore
made be her our Queen over us, to do Judgment and Justice.
us,
The Queen of Sheba meant no Diſreſpect to David and his Reign, when ſhe paid
this Compliment to Solomon and his. David was a brave Prince, and valiantly fought
the Lord's Battles, and gained immortal Honours to himſelf and to the Nation: But
David died like other Men, and was gathered to his Fathers: And God ftill loved
Ifrael, and raiſed them up another Prince, that ſhould reign in his Stead, and do, as
he had done, Judgment and Justice: This was continuing on his Mercy to his
People. And without the like Goodneſs fhewed to this Nation, this Day would have
furniſhed us with other Affections than thofe of Joy and Gratitude; for, on this Day,
we lost the King! whofe Life, before his Death, made Way to that Acceſſion to the
Throne,
QUEEN's Acceffion to the Throne.
59£
Throne, from whence we have already reaped many Bleffings and Advantages, and
from whence we hope, and promiſe our felves, a thouſand more.
The Cuſtom of obferving, with Solemnity, the Inauguration of our Princes, is of
old, and was firſt diſcontinued (as I think) by that wicked Civil War, that con-
founded all Obſervances of Decency and Order both in Church and State, which made
it hazardous to give God Thanks (fome Years before he died) for placing King
Charles the Firſt upon the Throne; by fetting up a Lower Houſe of Tyrants, who did
truly oppreſs the People, and overthrow their juft Liberties, more than any two Kings
had done fince the Conqueft; and were never outdone by any but themſelves, when
Part of them became a Court of Juftice, and put their King to Death. The Inai-
guration-Day was ufually the Day, on which the Predeceffor died; but the Thirtieth
of January, having been noted with fuch an execrable Mark, could not have been
obferved with any decent Joy, by any honeſt Subject. Such different Images would
have crowded in upon the Mind, as muſt have occafioned a Confufion horrible and
chocquing to have given God Thanks for fetting the Son upon the Throne, the
Hour his Father's Blood was fhed by Villains! Therefore his Birth-Day was ap-
pointed for the Feſtival, that we might give God Thanks for the restoring our
ancient Government both in Church and State, without the Remembrance of that
Day of Scandal.
The next Reign fet the Inauguration right; but that, I think, was all. It was a
Day of great Sorrow, and little Comfort: It gave us certain Fears, and very uncer-
tain Hopes: We had many things to aſk of God upon that Day, but it could not
be a Day of much Thankſgiving. His peaceable and quiet Entry, and his becoming
Refolutions and Profeffions at the firft, furprized us indeed, into fome faint Hopes,
and ſhort-lived Joys; but in a little Time, that Day became more truly Feſtival, by
being the Birth-Day of our prefent Queen, than for the Honour it was marked with
by his Succeffion to the Throne.
The following Reign was honoured by no fuch folemn Obfervation; as well be-
cauſe there had been no Deceafe, as for the great Unfettlement and Hurry, all Things,
and all People were then in; not that there was not as much Reaſon to injoyn it, and
as ready a Difpofition to obferve it, as at any other Time. For, that Reign will be
as memorable, and welcome to Pofterity, as any we have had, without fuch Mark
to note it by: And heretofore when People aſked why ſuch a Statue was not crowned,
it was thought a greater Honour, than the afking why fuch a Statue was. Let but
a Reign be memorable, for true and folid Benefits defigned and done to a Nation, and
it will eat out all the Teeth of Malice, and live in Praiſe, in Spite of all the Oppofi-
tion of the World. This Day put an End to that great Life, which all the World
of Friends and Enemies knew how to value, except a few poor English Wretches.
And it had been a Day of laſting Sorrow to all true Lovers of their Country and Re-
ligion, had not the Lord delighted in the Queen, to fet Her on his Throne; had
he not loved our Land, to eſtabliſh us for ever, by fetting Her over us, to do Judg-
ment and Juſtice. Her Qualities are truly fuch, and fuch Her Difpofition to Piety
and Virtue, that we, without a Subtlety, Diſtinction, or a fecret Senfe, can heartily
give God Thanks for fetting her upon the Throne. We cannot only pray to him, for
fuch good Gifts and Graces as he fees are needful to the Diſcharge of Her great Truſt,
but we can praiſe him, for what we fee already in Her, and make this Day, a Day
of true Thankſgiving. The State has tafted largely of Her Bounty already, and the
Church is (1703,) going to do the like alfo, by a moft generous Chriſtian Act of
Goodneſs. So that if God ſhall give Her Reſt, and make Her Reign a Reign of
Peace, She will, with Solomon, build up the Houſe of the Lord Her God, which
David
592
A SERMON preached on, &c.
David, though he had it in his Heart, could never do, for the Wars that were every
where round about him. So that if we be as well difpofed, our felves, by peaceable
and dutiful Obedience to Her, by Union and Agreement with each other, as She by
doing Judgment and Juftice, we may, by the Bleffing of God, become a very happy
People; and have great Caufe to praife Him for, and to rejoyce in each the other;
and to pray Him, that this Day may often return, with Honour on Her Head: And,
that after a long and happy Reign, in wife and righteous Adminiſtration, She may
receive a glorious Recompence at the Lord's Hands, and be crowned with everlaſting
Happineſs in Heaven.
THE
THE
LIFE and MIRACLES
O F
St. WE NE FREDE,
TOGETHER WITH HER
WITH HER LITANIE S.
WITH SOME
HISTORICAL OBSERVATIONS made thereon.
B
To the READER.
OLLANDUS the Jefuit, in the third Chapter of his General Preface to
the Acta Sanctorum Januarii, printed at Antwerp 1643, lays down ſeveral
Rules concerning the Credibility of Hiſtory in general; but (as his Work
led him) with a more particular Regard to the Credit of fuch as had writ-
ten the Lives and Miracles of Saints and Martyrs. Theſe Rules I offer to the Rea-
der, and believe he will think them as reaſonable as I have done, to be determined
by, in paffing his Judgment on the Hiftory of St. Wenefrede; and they will be, I
know, the leſs exceptionable to fuch as I would win, becauſe they come from one of
that Order.
"The Firſt Degree of Credit (he fays) is due to fuch as wrote the Lives of Men
"they knew, and ſaw, and lived withal. Thus Poffidius wrote the Life of St. Au-
"ftin ;" and thus, fay I, St. Athanafius wrote the Life of St. Anthony of Egypt; and
thus Sulpicius Severus wrote the Life of St. Martin.
"The Second Degree of Credit is due to fuch Authors, as wrote, not what they
"faw themſelves, but what they received from fuch as were Eye-witneffes. Thus
"Bonaventure wrote the Life of St. Francis, St. Hierom of Hilarion, and a nameleſs
"Author the Life of St. Clarus.
"The Third Degree of Credit is due to fuch as wrote, not what they had feen
"themſelves, nor what they had heard from fuch as were Eye-witneffes, but what
"thofe People told them, who faid they had it from fuch as were Eye-witneffes."
This is what we call the Credit of the third Hand; and thus Pope Gregory wrote his
Dialogues, and in them the Life of St. Bennet; and thus St. Hierom wrote the Life
of Paul the Hermit.
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"The Fourth Degree of Credit is due to fuch Authors as tranſcribe what they re-
late, from Writers that ftand in any of the above-mentioned Degrees of Credit; or
"that make Collections from undoubted Monuments of Donations, Teftaments,
"Tranfactions, or Commentaries, that are within the three firft Rules of Credit."
But this, with the good Father's Leave, need not have been made a diſtinct Rule,
becauſe it is indeed no Rule of itſelf, but the Obfervation of the three others; that is,
he who tranſcribes from any Author of Credit, fhall, if he do it faithfully, be as much
believed, as that Author is himſelf from whom he tranſcribes.
4 A
"And
594
To the READER.
"And all the Writers of theſe Claffes (faith the Jefuit) are to be believed, if they
"are wife and honeſt Men, and if their Writings are pure and genuine, and not at all
"adulterated; for, the Credit of naughty Folks, and fuch as are over-credulous, is
"to be much fufpected." Theſe Conditions and Reſtrictions, of being wife, and
honest, and not over-credulous, do, in my Opinion, render the foregoing Rules very
little uſeful or fignificant; and yet, to do him Juftice, his Conditions and Reſtrictions
are altogether as reafonable, as are his Rules: And whoever fhall be at the Pains to
read the tenth Part of what Bollandus had read of the Saints Lives, tho' written by
Men within the three Rules, will find Reaſon (if he have the Courage) to own, that
all thofe Rules, without thoſe Reſtrictions, are good for nothing; and that the Writers
within thoſe Rules have left us fuch Relations and Accounts of Lives and Miracles
of Saints, as can no more be believed by ferious Papifts, than what they know to be
altogether Fiction and Invention can. The Writer of the Life of Wenefrede was one
who came neither within the Rules, nor the Reſtrictions: He lived not (as I ſhew
hereafter at large) within 500 Years of her Death, nor cites any Author that did fo;
and I dare fay he was not wife, and I am fure he was over-credulous; and he who
will write in theſe Circumſtances, cannot be very honest, I mean in the Quality of an
Hiftorian.
"But there are (as he goes on) fome Saints Lives, that were not written at all, (he
"means by Writers of the three Claffes) or are loft; but their Names and their Mi-
"racles were remembred, and their Lives were written upon common Fame and
"Tradition. Here Judicio opus eft, here is need of Judgment and Diſcernment:
"If what is faid agrees with what is delivered by other creditable approved Hiſtorians,
" 'tis well, and we muſt be content; we could wiſh thoſe loft Lives were extant and
entire; but ---- Sometimes (he fays) their Miracles only are preſerved; but then
they are ſo exaggerated, and fo many new Things added to them, that ſome Peo-
"ple do really look upon them but as fo many old Wives Fables.
<<
CC
<c
But that which follows is much more remarkable and worth obferving: "We often
" meet with Miracles (faith he) which tho' we cannot deny but they might poſſibly
"be wrought, yet there is fuch a Caufe affign'd for them, and they are done in fuch
a Way and Manner, that one may well doubt whether it became the Majeſty of the
"everlaſting God fo to fupply Mens Wants, or yield to their Requeſts, and hear
"their Prayers. But becauſe (fo great is his Goodness) we cannot fully comprehend
"what good things he hath prepared in Heaven for thoſe pure Souls that are beloved
"of him, or how far he will pleaſe to gratify them on Earth, we ſhould not hastily
" condemn fuch Relations as feem exceedingly ſtrange and paradoxical to us, but ra-
"ther receive them with Reverence, as they are faid to flow from the Fountain of Di-
"vine Goodneſs, from whence our whole Happineſs is to be derived and fetch'd. Let
"it be granted, that the things faid to be done, were not indeed done: What then?
"greater things than they might poffibly be done, and were done at other Times, and
« in other Places. Take heed therefore of denying that fuch things were done, becauſe
<< you think they neither could, nor fhould have been done." Poor Father! His Reaſon
and good Senſe conſtrained him to lay down very good Rules, and to ſtrengthen them
with juft Conditions and Reſtrictions; but the Books that lay before him were, every
one of them, Exceptions to thofe Rules, or would admit of none of thofe Conditions and
Reſtrictions. He ſaw himſelf at the Head, as it were, of twenty or thirty huge Folios,
(ſo many he might well imagine they would make, by what himſelf had prepared)
that would every one of them contain a hundred and a thoufand things, fenfelefs, ri-
diculous, incredible, unworthy of God, and thofe good Saints; and what ſhould he
do, but fall to foftening thofe Conditions, and abating of the Rigour of his Rules,
and defiring his Reader's Favour, to take things as he found them, with all their Faults?
But
To the RE A D E R.
595
But as my Buſineſs is not to quarrel with Bollandus, (to whofe Works I am obliged
for ſeveral things) ſo I will only obſerve of him, that all the Advantage his Rules and
Conditions give me, in the Cafe of Wenefrede, his Softenings, Relaxations, and Abate-
ments, would deprive me of; and if I will be perfuaded by him, I muft believe her
whole Legend; but if I follow his Reaſon, as well as my own, I muſt not believe a
Word of it. But we have not done with this good Father yet; what follows con-
cerns us fomewhat nearer, and it is in the 34th Page of his Preface.
CC
"And becauſe that God, in working Wonders, does ufually accommodate himſelf
"to the Simplicity and Faith of Men, therefore (obferve) the Lives of the Irish
Saints, the Scotish, and the British, as well thofe of Albion as of Armorica (i. e.
"of Bretany in France) are (planè portentofa) downright monftrous, and made up
"of Miracles almoſt incredible; either becauſe the Conftancy of Faith was remark-
ably eminent among thofe People, or the Simplicity and Candour of their Lives
exceeding rare and wonderful, or certainly becauſe their Writers were more fimple
"than thoſe of other Nations (aut certè quia fcriptores fimpliciores.)
rr
(c
Here is a very fly and ſmart Reflection on all the Subjects of the Crown of England;
for, let him ſoften it as he will, he means to call us a fooliſh and a credulous People.
I wonder how a Jefuit came to ſay ſo, of either the Writers or Believers of our Saints
Lives; but, indeed, what he fays is generally true. No People have ever ſwallowed
down ſuch ſenſeleſs Legends, as our own fenfeleſs Writers have furniſh'd us withal. I
cannot chooſe but hope that the Papists among us will take notice of this Remark, that
their Credulity is really contemptible, even among fuch People as are of the fame Reli-
gion, and fuch as make their Advantage of it. It is not a Proteftant Writer, but Bol-
landus a Jefuit, that ſays (in the Life of Gildas, Jan. 29.) "That, in the Lives of the
British Saints, there are abundance of things that he could make nothing of, that
"could be brought under no Chronology, and were above all Belief." "Tis Godefride
Henfchenius, another Jefuit, the Partner and Continuer of his Labours, who (in
Menfe Maio, in his Preface to the Life of St. Kellac) fays, "That as to the Story of
"the two Harts, or Hinds, which came uncall'd for, to carry the Saint's Body to
Burial, and ſtopped of their own accord when they were come to the Place; and
"afterwards ferved the Inhabitants for plowing and other Huſbandry-work, like
"tame Cattle, and came every Night when they were unyoak'd, to the Place where
"the holy Body lay, and licked the Sepulchre with great Devotion ---- That as to
"this Story (he fays) he does not know whether he fhould receive it, or condemn it
quite, becauſe there are a world of things full as improbable as this, and more,
"that fill the Acts of the Iriſh Saints, which he thinks were written more to ſet
People a ſtaring and admiring, than to gain Belief." It is no Proteftant, but Father
Mabillon, a Benedictine Monk, whofe Learning, Honefty, and good Qualities we
hold in great Efteem; 'tis he, who (in his Preface to the Acta SS. Ord. Benedict.
Vol. I. 1668. put out at Paris) fays, "There are ſome who have the Vice of feign-
ing or believing any thing, born as it were and bred with them, and which they
"derive (he thinks) from the very Nature of the Soil: And many there are who lay
"this to the Charge of the Armorique and the English Writers of Saints Lives; and to
"this Purpoſe he quotes a Paffage out of Petrus Cellenfis (one that lived about 1 180.) to
"Nicholas an English Monk, where he tells him the Iſland was encompaffed with Wa-
"ters, and the Inhabitants partook of the Qualities of that inftable Element; and were
"turn'd about with every Wind and Fancy, and were ſo fond of their idle Dreams,
"that they compared them to Viſions, nay, and preferr'd them." I cannot chooſe
(I fay) but hope, that the Papifts of our Iflands will confider thefe Accounts and Cha-
racters, that learned Foreigners, Priefts, and Jefuits give of our Countrymen, who
have written the Lives of our Saints; and will hereafter abate fomething of their
cc
CC
<c
Fondneſs
596
To the READER.
Fondneſs and Credulity, and give fuch Authors no more Credit than they deſerve, or
than they would give them, had they written any other Hiftories, and Accounts of
Things or Perfons, and not the Lives and Miracles of Saints.
cr
CC
CC
(c
•
cc
After this ſhort Digreffion, I return to Bollandus's Preface, who thinking, I believe,
that his Reflection would bear a little hard upon our Britiſh Writers, and our Britiſh
Saints, tries, in the next Words, to make us fome amends; "Neither (fays he) can
any one (tho' never fo ill inclin'd) deny that many Miracles have been wrought
<< among thoſe People, (i. e. the Irish, Scotish, Engliſh, Welſh, and Britons of Ar-
morica) fince even at this Day (his Book came out in 1643.) the Places which
"were heretofore devoted to the Honour of the Saints, are famous yet for many
"Miracles wrought at them; altho' the Worſhip of the Saints has long been baniſhed
"and put down among thoſe Hereticks.
thofe Hereticks. There is great Concourſe ftill to St. We-
nefrede the Virgin's Well, in the extremeft Parts of North-Wales, of ſuch as ſeek
a Cure for their Diſeaſes and Diftempers. And a Man of great Quality (Vir Illu-
ftris, and every Gentleman is Vir Illuftris abroad) affured me he hath feen even He-
"reticks themſelves reforting to that Well, to ſeek for Help; and when he aſked them,
why they, who were of the new Religion, which forbad the Invocation of Saints, as
"of Souls that either flept till the Refurrection, or that, if they were in Heaven,
"knew nothing of our Affairs below, why they ſhould fall into the Dotages of the
Papifts, (as they were daily taught by their Miniſters, the Preachers of the fifth
Gospel, to call them) and come to St. Wenefrede's Well for Help? They made him
"this Anſwer, That they neither cared, nor minded, what their Minifters prated
"in the Pulpit; they very well remembred that the Waters of that Well were uſed
"to do Good both to themſelves, and to their Cattle, and to the Cattle of their Fa-
thers, and that they uſed to impute this Benefit either to St. Wenefrede, or to God the
"Author of all Good." The Anfwer of theſe Hereticks to this Perſon of Quality
is fo remarkable, that I muſt not truft my Tranſlation of it to the Reader, without
giving him the Words in Latin: Refpondiffe eos, Quid in Pulpitis illi ganniant, fibi
curæ non effe; meminiffe illius Fontis aquam fibi, fuifque gregibus, ac Parentum fuo-
rum, effe falutarem confueviffe; idque vel Diva Wenefreda, vel Deo boni omnis Au-
Etori, acceptum fcribi.
CC
cc
The Reader will, by this Time, perceive, that I did not concern myſelf with
this Jefuit at meer Adventure, and only becauſe he was a Jeſuit, and put out the
Acta Sanctorum; but becauſe he meddled much with our British Saints, and re-
proaches us very hardly, and makes efpecial Mention of the Saint, whofe Story I am
fearching into: And I defire that, before I leave him, I may make ſome few Obfer-
vations on his laſt Relation, which I think is Jefuitical all over. And Firſt, there is
no need of denying that many Miracles have been wrought in England, Scotland,
Ireland, Wales, and Bretagne in France. No doubt but God hath wrought Wonders
amongſt us, as well as in other Places; and hath made fome of our holy Men and
Women Inſtruments of doing great Things, as well as other People. We are no
Enemies to Miracles, but we defire to be affured that they were wrought, before we
believe them. Secondly, We have no need to deny that Miracles were wrought in
fuch a Place, where fuch a Saint was heretofore honoured, even fince the Reformation.
Let any one prove that ſuch a Miracle has been wrought by God at Holy-well, and
there is no reaſonable Man will deny it to have been wrought at Holy-well. What
would theſe People have? But would it follow preſently, that if a Miracle were
wrought at Holy-well, it muſt needs be wrought by St. Wenefrede, or by God for her
Sake, and at her Interceffion? God, for his Mercy's Sake, and through the Interceffion
of his bleſſed Son, may hear the Prayers of fuch as call upon him faithfully at Holy-
well, and may work Wonders in the Favour of fuch Supplicants; and
yet the Saint
of
To the READER.
597
of Holy-well may have no Share in that good Iffue. I do not, for my own part, be-
lieve, that any Miracles have been wrought at Holy-well, either before or fince the
Reformation, becauſe I fee none proved: But if there had, it would not have followed,
that St. Wenefrede had had any Hand therein. This is a Fallacy that eafy credulous
Souls do often fuffer to be put upon them; who if they happen to pray for Relief in
the Church of fuch or fuch a Saint, and it pleaſes God to give them what they afk, do
immediately impute to the Merits and Interceffion of that Saint, the obtaining
their Requeſt. This falfe Conclufion has been the Rife, the Progrefs, and Continu-
ance of abundance of Superftition. Thirdly, That there is ftill a great Concourfe of
People from all Quarters to Wenefrede's Well, does only prove that there are ſtill a
great many crafty Priefts, who find their Account in fending a great many weak de-
luded People on fuch Errands: It does not prove that they obtain the Remedies they
come to feek, nor the Cures they ſtand in need of. Fourthly, "Tis true that many of
thofe, whom the Jefuit and his Perfon of Quality call Hereticks, do alfo refort to
this Well, to feek Help. 'Tis a very cold Spring, and is good, as other cold Springs
are, in many Cafes; but the Hereticks feek for Help from God, and no body elfe; and
if they find it, by the Means of thoſe Waters, they return God Thanks, and no body
elfe, and bless his holy Name for having given fuch falutary Virtue to that Well; and
I dare fay, that in proportion to the Number of thoſe that uſe thoſe Waters, as many
Proteftants as Papiſts receive Benefit from them. The Papifts come to St. Wenefrede's
Well for Help, and fo do the Proteſtants; the Papiſts expect fome Help from Wene-
frede, the Proteftants none; if the Papiſts receive any Help, they impute it to the
Merits and Interceffion of St. Wenefrede, and are thankful to God and her; if the
Proteftants find any Benefit there, they thank God, and mind not Wenefrede, but
impute it to God's Bleffing and the cold Waters. This had been the right Repreſen-
tation of the Man of Quality to the Jefuit; but this had fignified nothing to the
Honour of St. Wenefrede, which the Man of Quality did certainly intend, and the
Jefuit makes the Story feemingly end fo, but indeed if you confider it well, it ends
juſt as it ſhould when told by a Jefuit, i. e. equivocally; which made me fay the Re-
lation was Jefuitical all over, and moſt of all at the Conclufion. The Man of Qua-
lity charges the Proteftants, with believing that the Souls of the Saints fleep till the
Refurrection: This is a falfe Charge; a Pope indeed hath been condemned and de-
pofed for holding this, among many other falfe Opinions, but the Proteftants hold
none fuch. The Man of Quality charges the Proteftants, with not calling upon the
Saints, becauſe they know nothing of our Affairs below. If the Saints knew nothing
of our Affairs below, the Papifts, I believe, would no more invoke them, than the
Proteftants. But this is not what the Proteftants ſay, that I know of, in Juftification
of their not praying to Saints; but they fay, that they do not know, nor have any
Means of knowing, whether the Saints above know any thing of our Affairs below.
A Man would not pray to God himſelf, unleſs he was fure that God could hear his
Prayers, and knew his Wants, and was able to relieve him, if he faw fit. Now the
very Reaſons that induce a Proteftant to pray to God, muſt hinder him from praying
to Saints and Angels: He does not know that Saints and Angels underſtand his
Wants; he does not know that they can hear his Prayers, if he ſhould make them;
nor does he know that they can help him, in his Neceffities, although they heard
his Prayers. In a word, he knows nothing of Souls departed in the Favour of God,
but that they are happy. When it is made very plain that the Saints above know
our Affairs below; when it is made very plain that they can hear the Prayers of ſuch
as call upon them from all Parts of her Majefty's Dominions at one and the fame
time; and when it is made plain that they can not only hear, but grant our Requeſts,
of what kind ſoever: When theſe things are made plain, the Proteftants will not, I
think,
4 B
598
To the READER.
think, be backward to call upon the Saints. All theſe Powers are manifeſt in God
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft; upon them we are bid to call, and upon them
we call with all Affurance of being heard. God is in every Place, and therefore all
the Ends of the Earth may pray to him at once; God knoweth every thing, and
therefore knows what every one ſtands in need of; and God is able to do what he
pleaſes, and therefore able to grant us every thing we afk, if he fees fit. Let but the
Saints be proved to be Omniprefent, Omnifcient, and Omnipotent, and they will then,
and not till then, deſerve to be the Object of Prayer: And fince we have a God thus
qualified to pray to, what Need have we to feek for any other? But the Hereticks,
it ſeems, do come to Wenefrede's Well, let their Preachers prate as long as they pleaſe
againſt it; and know that both they and their Cattle, and the Cattle of their Fathers,
haye received Benefit from thoſe Waters. What then? fo they do ftill. Theſe Rufticks
were, I think, too much for the Man of Quality, and having pleaſed him with gi-
ving a hard Word to their Minifters, made him believe they had a great Veneration
for his Saint, by faying that they and their Fathers, and both their Cattle, had found
great Benefit from thoſe Waters; which might be faid by thoſe who knew and be-
lieved nothing of Wenefrede's Story: For obſerve the Cheat, they tell him, that this
was conftantly afcribed either to St. Wenefrede, or to God. I cannot but think that
Bollandus laughed to himſelf when he heard and told this Story; for is there a Prote-
ftant in the World who will not own freely, that whatever Benefits any Perſons or
any
Cattle have received by the Waters at Holy-well, they received them either from
God, OR from St. Wenefrede? This is the Way of cheating Children; Children in
Underſtanding as well as in Years. Had they faid, that the World was created either
by God, OR by St. Wenefrede, they had faid what was exactly true; but it had been
too ludicrous a Way of ſpeaking, when that Supreme, Eternal, and Almighty Being
is concerned. And thus I take my Leave of this good Father, defiring my Reader
to turn to thofe Rules of his, and to apply them, when he finds it convenient, to the
Legend of St. Wenefrede; and to give it ſuch Credit as, according to them, it ſhall
deſerve.
It remains now that I give ſome Account of the following Work. I will not be
troubleſome to the Reader in telling him what my Relation to Holy-well is, and how
I came to be engaged in the Deſign of difcrediting the Story of St. Wenefrede in par-
ticular: It is enough that I am a Proteftant, a Member of the Church of England,
and have a Zeal for the Purity of God's Service, and a fincere Defire of undeceiving
the Papiſts in this erroneous and very hazardous Point of Saint-Worship. And as
Wenefrede is held for a Saint of great Reputation among them, and great Refort is
had to Holy-well by Pilgrims (as they call them) from all the different Quarters of
the Kingdom, and even from Ireland too, to pay their Devotions to her in the Place
where ſhe is faid to have fuffered Martyrdom; fo I believed it would be of Uſe to
take her Hiſtory into particular Confideration. To this Purpoſe I ſet myſelf the hard
Taſk of procuring and reading whatever had been written concerning her by any Au-
thor, either in Print or Manuſcript, antient, or modern, that I could get: And if I
were not very fure I had a good Defign in doing it, I fhould be a little afhamed of
having ſpent ſo much of my Time in reading fo much Traſh: But ſo it is, that I am
able (I doubt) to ſay, That I have ſeen more of Her than moſt Men now living have
done; and have moreover looked into almoſt all our Hiftorians to find NOTHING
faid concerning her. The firſt Account I fell upon was the Life of Wenefrede, writ-
ten by an anonymous Author, in the Cotton-Library, Claudius A. 5. which I have
therefore called the Cotton-Life. This was certainly written after the Norman Times,
becauſe the Normans are mentioned therein under the Name of Francorum, which
was the Word then, and fome time after, ufed, to diſtinguiſh the French from the
English
To the READER.
599
English Subjects; but it was not long after, for the Character and Writing feem to be
of that Age; and by the Plainnefs of Style, and Simplicity of Narration, I judge it
to have been written between the Years 1100 and 1200, by fome good Welchman,
who knew nothing of her Tranflation to Shrewsbury, but leaves her buried at Guithe-
rin, and tells of no Miracles done there, or elſewhere, but at Holy-well, which yet he
never mentions by that or any other particular Name.
The next Life I read was written by Robertus Salopienfis, of great Length, and is
to be found in the Bodley-Library at Oxford amongſt Abp. Laud's MSS. L. 21. fol.
140. This Work is dedicated by one Robert the Prior of Shrewsbury to one Guarine
the Prior of Worcester; and at the End of his Work he ſays, the Bones of Wenefrede
were tranflated to Shrewsbury in or about the Second Year of King Stephen, which
was about 1137 or 1138; and between the Years 1130 and 1140 there was one Gua-
rine Prior of Worceſter; and 'tis certain from Ordericus Vitalis, that about the ſame
Time one Herebertus (mentioned by Robert) was Abbot of Shrewſbury, and fucceeded
Godfredus. But altho' the Time and the Name agree very well, yet I am not
without fome Scruples that neither the Life of Wenefrede is quite fo old as 1140,
nor her Tranſlation fo early as 1138; nor am I quite fatisfied that Robert, who
wrote the Life, was the fame Man who wrote the Account of her Tranflation,
though they are now joined together: But as I build nothing upon theſe Suſpicions,
fo I will content myſelf with fetting down, in its proper Place, a Reaſon or two why
I believe her Tranflation was not fo early, without drawing any Confequence from
thence to the Prejudice of Robert's Hiſtory, which I allow to be of its pretended Age,
viz. about 1140.
The next was a ſhort Life of Wenefrede, written by a nameleſs Author, confifting
of Five Chapters, moftly taken out of the Cotton-Life, a little out of Robert, and
the reſt added by the Author himſelf. The Book in which it is, belonged heretofore
to Ramſey-Abby, came afterwards into Sir James Ware's Library, and a Copy from
thence was procured by the late Mr. H. Dodwell for the Uſe of Dr. Humphreys, late
Biſhop of Hereford, who had defigned to have given a full Account of the Riſe and
Progreſs of this fabulous Story; and who by his great Skill in the Antiquities and
Hiſtory of North-Wales, which was his native Country, was very able to have done
it. What diverted him from his Purpoſe I know not, but he ſeems (by what remains of
his) only to have gathered his Materials together in order to it, and juſt to have begun.
The next in Order of Time, was the Abbreviation of Robert of Salop's Life by
John of Tinmouth, about the Year 1366, in his Book called Sanctilogium, as Arch-
biſhop Uſher tells us; and this is the Life of Wenefrede which is found in John Cap-
grave at this Day, the greateſt Part of whofe Legend is but a Tranſcript of Tinmouth's
Work, put into Alphabetical Order for the Uſe and Convenience of the Reader: But
the Expilator's Name being fo much better known than the Man's from whom he
copied, I all along call it J. Capgrave's Life of Wenefrede.
But the Piece that ſhould be, methinks, of the greateſt Authority, is the Account
of her Life in the Nine Leſſons in the BREVIARY fecundum ufum Sarum, which
were read in the Church upon the 3d of November (which was appointed to be the
Saint's-Day) in the fame manner that the Epistles and Gofpels are now read among us.
And tho' thefe Leffons were read in Latin, yet they were alfo put into English, and very
well known among the common People, who held them in great Eſteem, and be-
lieved them without Scruple, becauſe they were commanded to be used and read in
Churches, though in another Tongue for Order and Uniformity's fake throughout the
Catholick Church.
This Capgrave's Life of Wenefrede was abbreviated, and a little altered by Laurence
Surius, a Carthufian, and put into his Work in its proper Month and Day, and from
him
600
To the READER.
"
him abbreviated yet farther by a German Monk, whoſe Name I have not now by me,
though I have read it. 'Tis alfo Capgrave's Life that M. Alford the Jefuit hath tran-
ſcribed into his Annals in the Year 660, and which Crefy tranflated. Her Life is al-
fo to be found in old English Rhime of about 300 or 400 Years ftanding, in the pub-
lick Library at Oxon, fuper Art. A. 72. fol. 189, as alſo in Profe in the English Legend.
But in the Year 1635 it pleaſed one J. F. a Jefuit to tranſlate into Engliſh the Life of
our Saint from the Latin of Robertus Salopienfis, and to add a Preface and a Conclu-
fion of his own; and as this is the moſt authentick Account of her, ſo it is what went
moſt about in Popiſh Families: And upon this Book's growing ſcarce, an unknown Per-
ſon thought fit this laſt Year, in 1712, to give us a Reimpreffion (as he calls it) of J. F's
admirable Life of St. Wenefrede, with an additional Account of fome more modern
Miracles wrought by that Saint. Upon Sight of this laft little Book, I laid aſide the
Deſign I had form'd of putting out the Cotton-Life of St. Wenefrede in English, with
a large Chapter of Hiſtorical Notes added to it, together with a Chapter of the Super-
ftition of Waters, and another of the Growth of Miracles: This Defign, I fay, I have
for a little while laid afide, and thought it better for the preſent to give the Reader
this New Life, with fuch Obfervations upon it, as I thought would be moſt for his
Service, whether Proteftant or Papift. But as I have in feveral Places referred him to
thofe Chapters, I affure him they are in fuch a Readineſs, that he ſhall not, if there
be Occaſion, long be without them. I have, for the Popish Reader's fake, left out
nothing of the Editor's Book.
This is a finall Account of the following Work, for which, as the Times go, I
expect neither Praife nor Approbation; but ſhall be well content if I do any true Ser-
vice to either Proteftant or Popish Reader thereby. The Editor fays in pag. 175.
"That in the Travelling Seafon the Town of Holy-well appears populous, crowded
"with zealous Pilgrims from all Parts of Britain. The Well itſelf receives a Succef-
"fion of Vifitants from Sun-riſe till late at Night.
This, I hope, will juſtify the preſent Undertaking, and ſhew it is not altogether
unreaſonable for a Proteftant to be a little zealous for his Religion alſo, when Super-
ftition has fo many Votaries. I did not indeed think, a few Years ago, that one
ſhould have wanted an Apology for ſpeaking or writing againſt Popery, in any Branch
of it. I looked upon it as a conftant Enemy, a ſtanding Force always in Readineſs
to fall upon us, and fworn, in a manner, to our Deftruction; and therefore that we
were, as good Proteftants, obliged to be upon our Guard continually, and to annoy
them all we could. But there has been fince that fo marvellous a Silence, and fo pro-
found a Security in that Reſpect, that to betray any Fears of its returning now, is
not only a Mark, it ſeems, of a weak Underſtanding, and little Inſight into publick
Matters, but alſo (if you will believe ſome Men) of ill Deſign and Difaffection
to the Government. But I confefs I cannot carry my Reſpect fo far to any Gover-
nors, as to believe we are fecure, becauſe fome People tell us fo, againſt the Alarms
our Senfes daily give us to the contrary. I cannot chufe but think that this Security
itſelf is one of our worſt Symptoms. Whether the Wolves bargain with the Dogs to
hold their Tongues, or whether they bark not, out of Fear, or Lazineſs, or Com-
plaifance, the Flock, I think, is not a Jot the fafer. The Enemy we have to
deal with, grows more numerous, is active, vigilant, and daring, daily puſhes on his
Conquefts, is in good Heart and under no Difcouragement but that of Laws, rejoices
in our Unconcernedneſs, confirms us in our Indolence, and tells us, if we ſuſpect them,
we are unreaſonable. And for theſe Reaſons I fhould be glad to fee Men fome-
what more afraid of their inveterate Enemy, talk fomewhat louder againſt Popery both
from the Pulpit and the Preſs, and tell the People, That if that Superftition ever fettles
here again upon the Throne, there is an End of their Religion, Liberty, and Proper-
ty, and
every thing befides, that Life is worth the living for.
THE
THE
Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
"T
IS to you, of what Degree and Condition foever, that I dedicate theſe
"few Sheets. You, in Equity, claim a Right to them above the reſt of
"Great Britain; becauſe with painful, yet chearful Steps, you meaſure
Journies from the remoteft Part of our Iſland, to the miraculous Head
"of the Holy Spring; where you mix with the rapid Current warm Tears of per-
"fect Contrition; and fhivering in the Stream, you look up to that Omnipotent
"Power which raiſed St. Wenefride to fuch eminent Sanctity and Glory.
T
OBSERVATIONS.
HE Author of the following Obfervations does alfo dedicate them, in great earneft, to theſe fame
devout Pilgrims; and prays them to believe, that as he ſeriouſly intended them for their efpecial
Uſe and Service, ſo he does truly mean and wiſh well to them. He alſo thinks they have a better
Claim to them, becauſe they make fuch painful Journies to this Well, from the remoteſt Quarters of the
Iſland. It is to ſave theſe painful Journies, to fuch fincere and well-defigning People, that he hath under-
taken this little Work. He would not, by any means, abate or cool the Fervors of their Devotion, but
he would have them ſpent in a much better Manner, and fixt upon a nobler Object, that both requires
and deferves them all, and in due time will recompence them all. He is no Enemy to Tears, or any other
Tokens of true Contrition; but he believes they are ſhed in a very wrong Place, when fhed at Holy-well,
in Contemplation of St. Venefrede's Sufferings, Sanctity and Glory; becauſe he thinks there are no fuf-
ficient Proofs, that ſhe ever fuffered, that ſhe was a Saint on Earth, or is now glorified in Heaven. Theſe
are the Reaſons why he would not have the Pilgrims take fuch Pains to pay undue Honours to one, who,
for any thing they know, is an imaginary Saint, and of whofe very Being there can be no Proofs brought,
that will fatisfy a reaſonable Man, in any other Point of Hiftory; much leſs in the Cafe of Pilgrimage,
where the Buſineſs is to thank God for his Gifts and Graces beftowed upon the Saint; or to pray to that
Saint for fomething that we want; or to pray to God to hear us for that Saint's fake; or to that Saint to
intercede with God for us. In all which Cafes a Pilgrim ought to have the fulleft Affurance, and the
greateſt Certainty that is poffibly to be had, It, That Wenefrede did once live, as furely as he himſelf now
lives; 2dly, That the was a Saint upon Earth, as furely as he is a Sinner; 3dly, That ſhe had her Head
ftruck off at Holy-well, and miraculouſly ſet on again, as furely as he is now at Holy-well himfelf, and has
his Head upon his Shoulders; 4thly, That ſhe is now glorified in Heaven, as furely as he is now praying on
Earth. I would defire the Pilgrims to this Holy Spring, to confider with themſelves, whether they can or
ought to want any of theſe Points of Certainty, of the Life, and Death, and Sanctity, and Glorifica-
tion of St. Wenefrede, in cafe they are required to thank God for her, or to pray to her; and then, to give
me the Patience of reading the following Obfervations, in which I have endeavoured to fhew, that they
neither have, nor can have, that Certainty and Affurance of her Life and Death, and Sanctity, which
ought to be the Bottom of Praiſe to God for her, or Prayer to her herſelf. This is the Purpoſe of the
following Obfervations; and which I could not avoid repeating often.
<c
"I have ſeen tender Virgins, who would look pale, and tremble at a Northern
"Blaft, finking themſelves under Water, offering their Vows and Prayers with as
great Alacrity, as if they had been partaking of the moſt tranſporting Joys upon
"Earth. The interior Fire of Divine Love got the upper hand of the cold Ele-
"ment, and flaming Petitions mounted up to bring down expected Bleffings.
This is very high indeed. Devotion has its Tranſports certainly; but every body will not eafily be-
lieve that they are either raiſed, or cheriſhed much by plunging into very cold Waters. St. Bennet
rolled himſelf, all naked, in a Bed of Briars and Nettles, for another Purpoſe; and St. Francis made to
himſelf a Mistress of a large Snow-Ball: But I believe they were rather voluntary Penances, than any
great Helps to Devotion at that Time, how uſeful foever they might afterwards prove. And I doubt that
thefe adventurous Virgins muſt be content to hear the Standers-by paſs much the fame Judgment upon
their Undertakings, if they will not be content to own they come, as others do, for Health and for Re-
freſhment. I do, in great earneſt, wifh thefe Waters had more falutary Virtues in them, than I think
they have; 'tis for the Country's Good, and for the Good of every one: But I would not have theſe good
Effects, whatever they are, affigned to fo wrong a Cauſe, as they are by poor deluded Pilgrims, or rather
by thoſe who ought to teach them better.
"No Complaint was heard except this pious one, that they knew little of the
"Merits of the Saint; only that this was the Place of her Martyrdom, and that it
4 C
"" was
602
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
"was famed for miraculous Cures, both of Soul and Body. This valuable Confide-
"ration engaged me to undertake what I here offer unto you, not to gratify Curiofi-
ty, but to promote Piety and Devotion.
cc
Pilgrims are ufually reaſonable enough in thefe Cafes, and complain of little more than of the Hardſhips
of their Journies. The Men that fend them on thefe Errands, and the Men that live upon the Place
to which they are fent, have generally a good Underſtanding betwixt them, and take care to keep up the
Credit of each other; and above all, to magnify the Saint, whofe Shrine they are to vifit. The Pilgrims
to St. Wenefrede's Well were exceedingly fatisfied, it feems, that fhe was a great Saint, and that Holy-
well was the Place where the fuffered Martyrdom, and famous for many wonderful Cures wrought both on
People's Souls and Bodies; but they wanted, belike, to know the Particulars of her Life and Death a little
better; and this Author undertakes, in the following Book, to give them Satisfaction. I have already faid
a little, and ſhall hereafter have Occafion to fay much more, to convince both him and his Filgrims,
that neither can He give, nor They have, the Satisfaction wanted in this Matter. I will only add in this
Place, that I believe no one can produce any Author, either written or printed, who mentions any Pa-
rifh, Church, or Well, to have been in the Place where Holy-well now ftands, beyond the Year 1130.
In Doomſday-Book, which was made between the Years 1084 and 1086, there is no fuch Name to be
found, tho' Gronant, Preftattyn, Diffard, Gulgrave, Mofton, Whitford, Caerwis, Halken, Skeiviog,
and other adjacent Towns, (that now lie in Flintſhire, but were then reckoned in Cheſhire) are to be
found, with little Variation of the Names. This is indeed a negative Argument, and in itſelf not very
concluding, becauſe the not naming a Place, is not a Proof that no fuch Place was then: But to fuch as
know the Nature and Intent of making that Book, which was to be a Survey, as it were, and Terrier of
the whole Kingdom, by which the Kings were to know their Strength, and rate their Wealth in Taxes;
to fuch, I fay, the Silence of Doomſday-Book will be a kind of Proof, that Holy-well was not then a Pariſh
or Place of Note. The Britiſh Name of it is Treffynnon, in English Well-town; but the oldeſt Date of
that, that I can find, is not, I gueſs, much above 400 Years. The Word Haly-well is evidently Saxon,
and the firſt Time it appears to me, is in the Charter of Confirmation made to God, St. Mary, and the
Monks of Bafing werk, in Flintshire, by King Henry III, tho' it has hitherto been thought to be Henry II;
but fince the King there gives the Lands which once belonged to W. Peverell in the Time of King
Henry his Grandfather, and it is certain that Henry II took away thoſe Lands from W. Peverell, be-
cauſe he was found to have poifoned Randle the fecond Earl of Chester, in or about the Year 1154,
therefore 'tis plain that Henry here named muſt have been Henry III, whofe Grandfather Henry II was.
It was this Randle Earl of Chefter that is faid to have founded Bafingwerk, in the Year 1131; fo the
Monafticon, Vol. I. p. 720; but John Brompton in his Chronicon, and Henry Knighton, tell us it was
Henry II, that founded the Monaftery of Bafingwerk, after the Year 1150, tho' they do not agree in
the Year. The Way to reconcile theſe things, is to fay, that King Henry II was the Founder, but Ra-
nulf Earl of Cheſter the great Benefactor, who gave them Haly-well, Fulbrooke, and other Places; not ſo
early as 1131, nor yet fo late as 1154, but fome time between thoſe Years. There is alſo mention made
of Hali-well in the Charter of Confirmation made to the fame Monaftery, by Leweline Prince of Wales
and David his Son, 1240. But let the Well be as old as it will, the Silence of Giraldus Cambrenfis,
who went the Viſitation Circuit with Baldwine Archbiſhop of Canterbury in 1188, is one of the fhrewd-
eft Signs in the World, that the Well was then in no Credit at all; for tho' he ſays they lay all Night at
Bafingwerk, which is not above half a Mile from Holy-well, and to which, as you have feen above, Holy-
well belonged, yet he ſays not one Word of either the Place, or the Well, or the Saint, or of any Cures
or Miracles wrought at that Place by her; and yet there is hardly a Page in all that Itinerarium Cambria,
but has fome one or more ridiculous and fuperftitious Stories in it: Which is a fort of Demonſtration to ſuch as
know the Manner of that Writer, that it was not for want of believing or remembring, but of hearing and
knowing any thing remarkable of Wenefrede, or Holy-well, that he had made no Mention of them.
There is alfo at the End of Nennius, in the Cotton-Library, Vitell. A. 13. a Page or two, with the Title
----- De Mirabilibus Walliæ, in which there is Mention made of other Springs and Waters in Wales,
famous for fomething or other, but not a Word of Holy-well. The Reader, I hopc, will be content
that I endeavour now and then to gratify his Curioſity, in fuch Remarks as thefe, fince the Editor's
Views and mine are very different.
"The Life of St. Wenefride was firft written by St. Elerius, who is frequently
" mentioned in it.
There is no other Proof in the World that ever there was any fuch Man in Being as Elerius, but his
being mentioned in the Life of Wenefrede written by Robertus Salopienfis; and in this Life there is not one
Word faid of his having written any thing about her. 7. Leland in C. 49. De Scriptorib. Brit. gives
this Account of him: "Elerius was heretofore, and ftill is, in great Efteem amongst the Welch. I take
"him to have ſtudied firſt at St. Aſaph, upon the Banks of the River Elwy, and afterwards to avoid the
"Noife and Frequency of the People, to have retired, as it were, into the Defart. This is moft manifeſt,
"that he erected a Monaſtery ſomewhere about the Vale of Clwyd, in which there was a great Number
"both of Men and Women, amongſt whom was Wenefrede, a noble Virgin bred up by Beuno, and
"whoſe Head was afterwards cut off by Caradoc, her furious Lover.
Moſt of this is taken out of the Life of Wenefrede, written by Robert, and has no more Authority
than that can give it: But here is no Mention of any Life written by Elerius, which yet had been much
to Robert's Purpoſe, and would have given him great Credit, if he could have faid that Part of the Ac-
count of Wenefrede was written by Elerius, one that lived at the fame Time with her, and was her Spi-
ritual Father and Inftructor. This was an Advantage that Robert could not have overlooked, but he
knew
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
603
knew nothing of it: And that is an unanswerable Proof that Elerius did not write the Life of Wenefrede
That he ftudied (if ever there was fuch a Man) upon the Banks of Elwy, is faid by Leland, perhaps up-
on as good Ground as if he had faid the Banks of Jordan; and I dare fay the one may be as well proved
as the other can. I do not hereby mean that Leland invented this Story, but that he tranſcribed it out of
fome Manuſcript he met with in his Searches, and fet it down (as his Way was) out of his Author, with-
out believing it any more than I do. That St. Asaph fhould be a Place of great Refort, and a kind of
Univerſity, where, amongſt other Inhabitants, there dwelt 965 Monks, 300 of which looked after the
Cattle and the Plough, and 300 more were bufied in the Offices of the Monaftery, and in providing Diet
and other Neceffaries for the reft; and the remaining 365 were Students and Priefts, and employed in the
Service of God; that thefe People fhould live in the Town of St. Asaph is very amply attefted in the Le-
gend of St. Kentigern, written by Joceline a Monk, and much about the fame time with Robert, and of
full as good Authority; but it would be very ftrange if Leland, or any one who knew the Country and
Place, fhould believe it. One thing more I think fitting to obſerve about Elerius's writing the Life of
St. Wenefrede, and that is, That Dr. Thomas James, formerly Library-Keeper at Oxford, and a very
learned Man, finding the Life of Wenefrede in the Cotton-Library, written by a nameleſs Author, noted
in the Margin theſe Words Per Elerium Britannum Monachum, Anno 660. I doubt not but he was
led into this Miſtake by the ordinary Tradition; for had he read the Life itſelf, he would have found it
written by one who lived after William the Conqueror's Time, which is 400 Years after the pretended
Elerius's Time. There is alfo another Note added to Dr. James's by another Hand, thus ----Vel potius
Robertum Salopienfem, Anno 1140. ut Vir quidam eruditus melius docet. But this is alfo a Miſtake,
for the Life in the Cotton-Library contradicts Robert in fome Places, and is not one fixth Part fo long, as
they who will compare them may fee. Who this Vir eruditus was I know not, but the Perfon who fays
this of him, was the late learned Dr. Thomas Smith in his Account of the Cotton-Library; but neither the
one nor the other had feen the Life written by Robert.
per
<c
"From him (i. e. from Elerius) Robertus Salopienfis collects and fupplies, efpe-
cially what related to the Tranſlation of her Holy Body, he being the chief Agent
in bringing the fame to his Monaftery. This Robert, the worthy Prior of Shrews-
bury (who afterwards, for his great Talents, was chofen Abbot) wrote the
"Saint's Life foon after the Tranflation of that Treafure, which was in the Year of
"our Lord God 1138.
<c
It is indeed faid in Robert's Account, that the Tranſlation of theſe Bones was made in the Second
Year of King Stephen, which falls in 1137-8. But to this I have two or three Objections. First, That
the Life of Wenefrede in the Cotton-Library (which was plainly written after the Norman Kings, as ap-
pears by Diebus quinetiam Francorum: And, In tempore quoque Francorum: And, Pacis jure ubique per
Patriam violato, Francis atque Gualenfibus fe ad invicem oppugnantibus; and more of the like kind,
which evidently refer to the Times of the Norman Princes, of whom King Stephen was the laft :) From
this Life, I fay, it appears, that the Body of St. Wenefrede was even then at Guitherin, the Place where
ſhe lived, and died, and was buried. Locus quidem, quo cum virginibus converfata, Guitherin vocatur;
quo etiam poft vita dormitionem, cum confodalibus virginibus, VIII Kalendas Julii, fepulta requiefcit in
Chrifto. Whoever will read this Life of Wenefrede, will find it was written by a Welchman; and fince
it was written after the Times of the Norman Kings, and no Mention made of the Removal of her Body
or Bones to Shrewsbury, but taken for granted that ſhe ſtill lay buried at Guitherin, it is not very likely
that the Tranflation was fo early as 1138, which was the Second Year of King Stephen; at leaſt the
Writer of this Life had heard of no fuch thing, who, I fay, in all Likelihood wrote after the Days of
Henry I, if not after thoſe of Stephen; becauſe it is not reconcileable with either Cuſtom or common Senſe
for a Writer to fay, In the Days of the Normans; or, In the Norman Times; or, In the Times when the
Normans and the Welch were at Wars, unleſs he wrote at leaſt a little after thoſe Times.
Another Objection to this early Tranſlation of Wenefrede's Bones to Shrewsbury is this: That Orderi-
cus Vitalis fays nothing of this Matter, who was as likely as any Man elſe to do it, if he had heard of it,
becauſe of his near Relation and Affection to this Monaftery at Shrewsbury. The Account he gives of him-
felf is, That he was born in the Year 1074, the XIV Kal. March, and baptized at Attingefham, not
far from Shrewsbury, a Town upon the Severn, by one Ordericus, a Prieſt, who gave him his own Name
and was his Godfather: At Five Years old he was fent to School at Shrewsbury to one Sigward, a Prieſt,
who taught in the Church of St. Peter and Paul, which Church belonged to Odelirius, his Father, and
ſtood by the River Mola: Here he ſtayed till he was Ten Years old, and was thence removed to Utica
in Normandy, where at Eleven he received the firft Tonfure, and was called Vitalis, becauſe it happened
on that Saint's Day; at Sixteen he was made Sub-Deacon, at Eighteen Deacon, at Thirty-three Prieſt,
and fo continued 34 Years, when he made an End of his Hiftory, which was in the Year 1141. Ode-
lirius, his Father, was a great Friend of Roger de Montgomery, who was Earl of Shrewsbury; and it was
at his Exhortation, and by his Affiftance, that Roger built and endowed this Monaftery in 1083, and
fetched his Monks from Sais in Normandy to fill it. In this Monaftery Odelirius lived and died a Monk
himſelf in 1101, and fo did a Son of his, and Brother to Ordericus. Thefe are the Reaſons why Ordericus
is ſo very particular in his Defcription and Account of this Monaftery above any other Writer we have;
it was his native Country, he went to School in the very Church, that was afterwards turned into a Mo-
naſtery of Benedictines; his Father and Brother were Monks in it, and doubtlefs many of his Relations
lived about and near the Place. It is to him (and, for any thing I have yet feen, to him alone) that we
owe the Knowledge of this Foundation, and of the firft Abbots of it, and of other private Occurrences
relating to this Place. It is he who in the Year 1138 (the very Year of the pretended Tranflation of
Wenefrede's
604
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
Wenefrede's Bones) tells us, that William Fitzalan, Municeps & Vicecomes Scrobesburia, who married
Robert the Earl of Gloucester's Daughter, rebelled againſt King Stephen, and held Shrewsbury againſt him
for a whole Month; but that at laft the King took it in Auguſt: And yet this Ordericus, as zealous a
Monk as Robert, but a better Hiftorian, fays not one Word of Wenefrede's Tranflation, though he has
Occaſion to mention the Tranfactions of the very Year in which it was done, in the very Town where it
was done; nay, he continues his Hiſtory three Years or four lower, and yet fays nothing of it. This
makes me fuſpect Robert's Credit a little in his Story of the Tranflation: For although Silence is not a
fure Foundation to build an Argument upon, either for or againſt a Fact, yet I affure the Reader, that
the Silence of a Monk in the Cafe of a Saint's Tranflation to a Monaftery much favoured by him, is
clear another thing than the Silence of other Hiftorians in other Cafes.
In the MS. Life of Sir J. Ware, the Tranflation is faid to have been in Tempore Regis Henrici; and
if he means Henry II, I fhould fooner incline to believe it; but it is not worth the while to give Reaſons
for either Opinion. Robert is not an Hiftorian whom one would be at any Pains to difcredit, if good
People were not moved by his Authority to go on Pilgrimage to a Saint of his making.
"His Sincerity is much commended by Card. Baronius, Surius, Pits, and
« Poffevinus.
I affure the Reader that none of theſe People fay one Word or Syllable of the Sincerity of Prior Robert ;
not one of them ever faw his Book. Whatever Pits fays is tranfcribed from Leland or Bale, with a little
Change of Words, and generally for the worſe. Surius gives us a fhort Life of Wenefrede, but it is but
an Abbreviation of Capgrave. Poffevinus fays, He was a Briton, a Monk, and wrote the Life of
Wenefrede, and lived about 1140. Card. Baronius fays nothing at all of him; but in his Notes on the
Roman Martyrology, on Nov. 3, tells us, That he had heard great Matters of Wenefrede's Well, and
the Miracles done there, from Thomas Goldwell, the Biſhop of St. Asaph himſelf, who was an Eye-wit-
neſs, and worthy of all Credit; but not a Word of Robert. I wiſh the Popish Readers would learn a little
to diſtruſt the Relations and Hiftories which their Prieſts put into their Hands, and be now and then at
the Pains to examine whether the Facts and Accounts they give of Matters be fo as they repreſent them or
The new Editor of this Life of St. Wenefrede in 1712, does but tranſcribe this Paſſage from the
Publiſher of her Life in 1635, but he does not do it honeftly neither; for the Paffage there is, That
Robert was, for his great Sincerity, by Card. Baronius, Surius, CAPGRAVE, Pits, Poffevinus, and
others, worthily commended. Capgrave, it feems, was not thought a Name of fo great Credit as the
reſt, and therefore in this New Edition is left out; but, after all, he was the only Man of all the Company
that ever faw the Life of Wenefrede written by Robert; and it is from his Abbreviation of her Life, that all
the reſt of the Writers ſpeak: Even Alford himſelf, and Creffy his Tranflator, knew nothing of Robert,
but what they found in Capgrave, though both of them wrote after the Jefuit J. F. publiſhed her Life
in English from a Copy of Robert of Shrewsbury in 1635.
no.
"It was penned by him in Latin, and dedicated by him to Guarinus Prior of
Worcester, both being of the Holy Order of glorious Benedict. He tells Guarinus,
"That what he preſents him with, is from the antient and undoubted Monuments and
"Records of fuch Monafteries and Churches as the Virgin is known to have lived in; as
"alfo from the Depoſitions of venerable Prieſts, worthy of all Credit for their Reli-
gious Profeffion, Sanctity of Life, and great Learning.
The Life of Wenefrede written by Robert Prior of Shrewsbury, is dedicated to one Gua---or Warinus,
and fuch a one was Prior of Worcester between the Years 1130 and 1140, who were both Benedictines.
So far is true; but that which follows is not true, viz. that Robert tells Guarinus, That what he pre-
fents him with, is from antient and undoubted Manufcripts and Records of fuch Monafteries and Churches
as the Virgin is known to have lived in. This is indeed what the Jefuit J. F. makes Robert ſay to Guarin
in his pretended Tranſlation of him; and this is what the New Editor in 1712 tranfcribes from 7. F. and
puts upon his poor Pilgrims; but Robert fays no fuch thing: His Words are theſe, Partim per Scedulas in
Ecclefiis Patria, in qua deguiffe dinofcitur, collegi: partim quorundam Sacerdotum relationibus addidici,
quos & Antiquitas veneranda commendabat, & quorum verbis fidem adhibere ipfe Religionis habitus compel-
lebat: In English thus; The Life of the Blessed Virgin Wenefrede, which I have lately made and fent to
you, I have partly collected from the fcattered Accounts I found in Writing in the feveral Churches of the
Country, in which she is known to have converfed and lived; and partly learn'd from the Relations of fun-
dry Priefts, whofe venerable Age recommended them to me, and whofe very Garb and Habit constrained me
to believe what they faid. This is Robert's Account of the Materials out of which he compofed his
Work, and how he came by them: which, in my Opinion, falls very ſhort of ancient and undoubted
Monuments; nor is there one Word about Monafteries, nor any thing to fignify the Sanctity of Life, or
great Learning of the Prieſts, his Informers and Inftructors. They might be very holy, and learned too,
according to the Times; but Robert does not tell us fo. Thofe are the Flouriſhes of 7. F. the Jefuit,
who thought a bare Tranſlation of the Words of his Author would not make ſo much for the Credit of his
Work as he believed it ought to have: But this is what I would have the Popish Readers now and then
complain of to their Prieſts, and tell them that the Proteftants take notice of their Want of Honeſty and
good Faith in Matters of this Sort. Whatever Robert's Sincerity might be in writing this Life, I affure the
Reader, the Tranflator has not fhewn any great Marks of his own; for befides what I have already taken
notice of, he has made other Additions even in the Author's Dedication-Epiftle, which are not in the
Original.
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
605
Original. Robert tells Guarinus, that the fecond Motive to his writing the Life was the Love he bore to
the Virgin; that her great Merits being fet forth, due Honour might be paid her by the Faithful. Se-
cundario, Virginis amor, quo declaratis ipfius meritis, honor ei debitus à Fidelibus impenderetur. This
was too poor and modeft for the Jefuit: He tranflates it thus; The fecond was my efpecial Love and
Devotion to this most renowned Virgin and Martyr of our Country, that by her Sanctity and great Merits,
here by mne declared, fhe might by faithful Souls be the more devoutly honoured, ferved, and prayed unto.
He also tranflates Veridicorum affertione conteftata, by certain and undoubted Relations; the Word Vitam
by eminent Sanctity and Graces. Now this is not to tranflate another's Words, but to write one's own
Senſe; and yet the Popish Readers are made to believe, that Robert wrote theſe things 500 Years fince,
whereas in truth it was J. F. the Jefuit that wrote them in 1635, and I know not who that publiſhed
them again in 1712. But before. I leave this Head, I defire the Reader to confider whether this had not
been a moft proper Place for Robert to have told us, That he had collected fome of his Materials from the
Accounts that Elerius left, had he heard of any fuch Writings?
'
"That Robert omits what is lefs certain, as her Journey to Rome, and other Paf-
fages, not ſufficiently atteſted: So nice and fcrupulous was the good Prior, not to
"recommend any thing to Pofterity, which was not uncontroulable Matter of
"Fact.
Robert fays, he purpoſely left out her Journey to Rome, and other common Stories that went about
concerning Wenefrede, becauſe he found them in no Books, nor handed about by any People whom he
could truft. He had not therefore feen the Life of Wenefrede, above mentioned, written by a nameless
Author, which ſays ſhe went to Rome---Romam, ut memorant, petiit, vifitandi caufa Sanctorum Apofto-
lorum loca. And who can tell us, why a Man fhould fcruple to believe fhe made a Journey to Rome, who
firmly believed that ſhe lived at leaſt fifteen Years, after her Head was cut off, and fet on again? This,
I fear, is ftraining at Gnats, and ſwallowing Camels. When once a Woman's Head was cut off, and
right fet on again, fhe wilt as eafily go from Wales to Rome, as from Holy-well to Guitherin. I ask the
Reader's Pardon for this Levity; but it would raiſe a Man's Indignation or Contempt, to ſee fuch as call
themſelves the Priests of the most High God, telling the moft ridiculous Stories, with a very grave and
ferious. Air; talking about the Scruples of legendary Writers; and giving us for a true Hiſtory, a Rela-
tion that is not quite fo well attefted and authentical as the Hiſtory of Guy of Warwick is.
" "Tis true, he ought to have obferved the Rules of an exact Hiftorian, as to the
"Years of her Life, Death, and Tranſlation, which he omitted. However, out of
"other Claffical Authors, I fet down the Centuries.
The Truth of it is, Robert might as well have fet down the Years of her Birth, Beheading, Removal
from one place to another, and the Time of her fecond Death, with as much Certainty as any thing elſe
he relates, for he knew them all alike. But it feems, that neither the Schedule nor the living Prieſts
had told him any thing about the Time of her Life, or firſt, or ſecond Death. But I rather think, he
was wife enough to be afraid of naming Years, and Kings Reigns, which might be examined into, and if
not well aſcertained, bring fome Diicredit on his Hiftory. In this he fhewed himſelf as skilful a Writer,
as any
I have ſeen of the like Scrt; for, in a Life of fo great Length as this is, (containing 30 or 40
Pages in a fmall Folio, written in a good legible Hand) you will not meet with one Word, or Hint, from
whence you can gueſs when Wenefrede lived or died. This I do not think was an Omiſſion in Robert,
but a wife and artful Concealment, and done with Defign. However, the new Editor is reſolved to fup-
ply this Defect, and to fet down the Centuries, and that out of Claffical Authors too; the Meaning of
which, I confefs, I do not comprehend, having, ever fince I was at School, underſtood that Word
otherwiſe.
CC
<c
"To proceed with greater Security, I alfo take for my Guide, that learned Anti-
quary, and accurate Annalift, the R. F. Michael Alford, S. J. who in his 2d Tome,
printed 1663, treats at large this Subject.
Alford does indeed give us the Life of Wenefrede at large, and makes many Obfervations to his Pur-
pofe, as he goes along, upon it; but ftill it is the Life that Capgrave gives us, for he had never ſeen the
Life that was written by Robert. He takes it indeed for the Life that was written by Robert, and ſo far
he is in the right; for Capgrave abbreviated Robert's Life, and put it into his Legend of English Saints;
and F. Alford is fo ingenuous as to cite it, ---Robert Salop, apud Capgrave; and Robertus Abbas, ut eum
refert Capgravius: Which makes it evident, that he had not, at that Time, feen the original Life,
written by Robert, which is four times bigger than the Abbreviation.
"I likewife read attentively the Church-Hiftory of the R. F. Serenus Crefy, fet
"forth in 1668; who in the Preface acquaints the Reader, that altho' great part
" of his Volume is owing to F. Alford, he has other ancient Records to aſſiſt him
"in carrying on the Work. This religious Author being of the holy Order of St.
"Benedict, I rationally fuppofed that he might have fuch Manuſcripts in Cuftody, as
4 D
<c
came
1
606
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
<s
came not to the Knowledge of other Writers, which poffibly had been ſecured by
"the Body, at the Diffolution of Monafteries. Neither of them vary as to the Re-
"lation of her Life and Death; they only differ in a Name or two, viz. Trebuith for
"Thewith, and Caradocus for Cradocus, who imbrued his Hands in the holy Virgin's
"facred Blood.
Creffy's Church-Hiſtory is a very poor Work, undertaken for the fake of the Engliſh Readers, and to
ſerve inſtead of the old Legendary, which was grown a little out of Faſhion; but it has little or nothing
in it, which is not tranflated from M. Alford; and of the Story of Wenefrede he fays nothing (becauſe
he knew nothing) but what the Jefuit had faid before. As for the Benedictines having fecured any con-
fiderable Manuſcripts, at the Diffolution of Monafteries, 'tis a Fancy that has run in many People's Heads,
but without any good Grounds. The Proteftants would be as glad as themſelves, that they had ſo done;
but fince 150 Years have produced little or nothing of that Kind from thefe Fathers, we muft, I doubt,
be content with what we have at home. As to the exact Agreement betwixt thoſe two Writers, it will
eafily happen, when one of them tranflates from the other; and if they had differed in more material
Points than thoſe mentioned, it had been no great Matter, for they tell but one and the fame filly Story,
from one and the fame Legend.
"Doubtlefs you will obferve, that this Edition of St. Wenefride's Life, is rather to
"be look'd upon as a Re-impreffion, with fome Amendments, of the former Book, fet
"forth in the Year 1635, by J. F. of the Society of Jefus; which he tranflated
" from a very ancient (as he declares) and authentical Manufcript of Robert Prior of
Shrewsbury.
r
'Tis better, I think, to hear what J. F. fays himſelf in his Preface: ---Whoſe Book (meaning Robert's)
copied truly out of an old authentical Manufcript, I have here, in Senfe, faithfully tranflated; ſo that
f. F. tranflated from a Copy, not from an authentical Manufcript itſelf. But that which is more to the
Purpoſe to obſerve, is, that he tells us he tranflated Robert's Book in Senfe; i. e. he did not tranflate it ac-
cording to the Letter, becauſe he ſays, The Author's old Phrafes were ſcarcely expreffible in good English.
I muft own, that it is very hard to tranflate an old Latin Legend, into good, or into tolerable Engliſh; and
therefore many times we muſt be content with the Senfe of the Writer, where his Words cannot be well
turned; but then, in all theſe Cafes, an honeft Man will be obliged to vary as little as is poffible, from
the Senſe which the Words give moft naturally. The Tranflation of J. F. the Jefuit is, in this Reſpect,
very faulty: He varies when there is no manner of Need; and when the Words are plain, and might
be very literally tranflated. His Tranflation is not much above Half what it would have been, had
he tranflated it literally, fo that he has left out a great deal; and in other Places he has added things
of his own Head, which his Author thought not of; and I am confident there is not a Chapter in the
whole Book, where he has not tranflated ſomething very wrong, and made either more or lefs of it, than
the Author intended. Whoever will be at the Pains to compare the Latin with the English, will wonder,
as I do, that he ſhould fay, He had faithfully tranſlated Robert, in Senfe. I have given a Specimen of
his Fidelity in the Preface, and it is really fo, more or leſs, throughout the whole Work. And
And yet, after
all, his Book may much more properly be called a Tranflation of Robertus Salopienfis, than the new Edi-
tion of Wenefrede's Life put out in 1712, can be called a Re-impreffion of J. F. the Jefuit's Book; for the
latter is exceedingly unlike the former.
"The two firft Letters of his Name, and Calculation of the Time when F. Al-
ford lived, brings to my Thoughts, that very probably it was he who engliſhed it:
"For Creſſy tells me in his Preface, that altho' he publiſhed his Tomes under the
"borrowed Name of Alford, aliàs Griffith, his real Paternal Name was John
"Flood.
F. Alford was born in 1585, and died in 1653; and might therefore very well tranflate Robertus in
1635, and put it out, under the Name of J. F. But I have this Objection againſt it, that J. F. tran-
flated Robertus Salopienfis, and therefore faw, and had that Book in his Hands; whereas it appears that
F. Alford never faw Robertus's Life, but cites it out of Capgrave; and yet he lived 18 Years after the
Year 1635, in all which Time he might have amended that Paffage, and very probably would have taken
Notice of Robert's Hiftory of the Tranflation of St. Wenefrede's Bones to Shrewsbury, which he mentions
in his Annals of 1138, but mentions out of Capgrave ftill, who has but a Line or two about it. This
makes me conclude that J. F. was not M. Alford.
<c
"I owe ſo much Deference to the Memory of this learned Man, whoſe Merits
are known by his elaborate Works, and who had the Perufal of the moſt ancient
"Records of Britain, that you will find little more than the Subſtance of your for-
"mer Book: Yet muſt have Leave to ſay, that the Engliſh of it is ſo obſolete, and
"the
1
1
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
607
of
the tackings of the Words together fo much differing from the prefent way
"Writing, that moſt People defired it might appear fomething more poliſhed. I
may add, that'tis a difficult Matter to procure a Copy; and on this Account, thofe
"devoted to our facred Patronefs, languiſhed after a freſh Supply from the Preſs.
•
I have no Purpoſe to detract any thing from the Praiſe of F. Alford, (who is here taken to be J. F.)
I have a Refpect for all Men who endeavour to do what Honour and Service they can to their native Coun-
try. His 4 Volumes of Annals are not generally had in that Efteem that I think they deferve; his In-
duſtry and Diligence are very great, and his Method is very eafy and ufeful. As to the new Edition of
7. F's Book, I know not how it can be called fo; it is by no means the fame Book: It treats of the
fame Subject, but in a very different Manner; fome things are left out, and others are put in, and the
Language much altered; but whether it be mended by polishing, I will not determine. Plain Engliſh, after
all, is the beft Language, and will live longeft-; but plain Engliſh is not very fit for a religious Romance;
and I take thofe People who languifh after a new and polifhed Edition of St. Wenefrede's Life, to be
Lovers of Strange Stories. But, in good earnest, how can any ferious Chriftians call St. Wenefrede, our
facred Patronefs? This is Language proper for the Hiftory of the Seven Champions, where St. George is
for England, St. Andrew for Scotland, St. James for Spain, &c. Countries in which they never fet their
Foot. But is it thus, that St. Wenefrede is Patronefs of Wales? I doubt it is a much more ferious and
religious Matter; and of this I fay that ſerious Chriftians ought to be aſhamed. My Opinion is, that
there are no fuch Patrons or Patroneffes, appointed by God, over feveral Countries; or that take of their
own accord, the Care of fuch a Nation, Region, City, Town, or Diftrict, in particular. But fhould
I ever fall into this fuperftitious Dotage, and grow fond of any Saint's particular Protection, (either
diſtruſting that of God, or, through a falfe Humility, not daring to approach his Throne immediately
my felf) I hope I fhould have the good Senfe and Difcretion left me to chooſe a Saint, of whofe Being,
and Grace, and Virtue, and Religion, I might reft as well affured, as I am that there is any fuch Place of
Happineſs as Heaven, or any Saint therein. I would chooſe the bleſſed Virgin, or an Apoſtle, or fome old
and celebrated Saint and Martyr, Ignatius, Polycarp, or Cyprian, or fome fuch one as all the World
agreed in honouring for their holy Life and Death. I would not chooſe ſuch a Saint as Wenefrede, of
whofe very Being there is no manner of Certainty left to us. I would not pray to one, of whom I find no
Mention made for full 500 Years, after the Time wherein ſhe is ſaid to have lived. I would not go on a
Pilgrimage to a Saint's Well, whofe Hiftory is only told by a poor Monk, that lived fo long after her as
500 Years, and brings no one Writer of Name or Credit to vouch for any thing he fays concerning her
all that Interim, except a few looſe Scraps of Paper or Parchment, in the Church Cheft, or the Rela-
tions of fome honeft old Prieſts, who told him what the Stories of the Country were about her. Such a
Tradition as this, is not Ground fufficient for a Chriſtian to build a Patronage upon. Were I a Papift, I
would not have a Patronefs of Prior Robert's making, who, by being fo much concerned to profit his
Monaſtery at Salop, by bringing thither the Bones of Wenefrede, and thereby more Company, and there-
by more Offerings, might poffibly be tempted to fay things of her, that were not exactly true. But I
would ask for as good Vouchers, and authentick Writers to teftify the Time fhe lived in, the Places fhe
converfed in, the Death fhe fuffered, the fetting her Head again upon her Shoulders, and the fecond
natural Death ſhe underwent, as we have for other Saints, who are honoured without Difpute, and of whoſe
Gifts and Graces no one doubts, nor makes any Queſtion, either of their Life or Death. When a Saint is
the Patronefs of a Country, ought not the Country to have all the Certainty and Satisfaction that is poffi-
ble, whether, when, and how that Saint lived and died? But Wales can never have this Certainty and Satiſ-
faction of its Patronefs, if Wenefrede be the, becauſe there is no Author either in Manuſcript or in Print,
who lived within 500 Years of her Time, that does fo much as name her Name, or fay a Word about
her. But this I have fhewn at large, in a Chapter of Notes, upon her Life; and I only mention it here,
to put the poor Pilgrims in mind, how ill they are ufed, and how their Prieſts impoſe upon their Under-
ftanding, when they ſend them, ſo many Miles, to pray to one, of whoſe Exiſtence, Life, and Death,
they neither have, nor can have, any Certainty. I do not pretend, in this Place, to difpute whether it
be fit for Chriſtians to chooſe their Patrons in Heaven, to pray to Saints, and go in Pilgrimages to their
Shrines; but I fay, if all theſe things were lawful and allowed, nay good and profitable, yet would it be
a fooliſh and unreaſonable thing, to pitch upon a Name, and place her as a Saint in Heaven, whom I have
no fufficient Reaſon to believe ever to have lived upon the Earth; or, if ſhe lived at all, that ſhe lived in the
Fear of God, and died in his Favour; of whom, in a Word, I know no more, than what a Monk hath
told me, in a moft miferable Account of her.
"I have kept myſelf ſo cloſe to the hiſtorical Part, that altho' frequent Oppor-
"tunities invited to enlarge, I abſolutely refuſed to make any Additions of my own.
"I have rather abbreviated when I concluded fome Periods not very material, and
"this to leffen Bulk. A few Occurrences are reduced to proper Places, and ſome
Paffages are added out of holy Scripture, to fet in a truer Light the Virtues of
"St. Wenefrede and others.
r
The Editor of this new Life is well affured, that there are not ten People in all the Queen's Dominions
that can or will compare his Book with the Life written by Rob. Salop. nor many more that will compare
it with the pretended Tranflation of J. F. Jefuit, put out in 1635. But I, who have. read them all,
(and more of this bad Kind) can affure the Reader, that the Additions, Abbreviations, Omiffions and
Changes
60·8
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
Changes made by this new Editor, have made it a very different Book from either of the other; and if Ï
may ſpeak my Mind freely, as I do it without Contempt or Ill-will, I profefs ſeriouſly that Robert's Book
is by much the beſt; i. e. confidering who he was, and when he lived, the moſt excufable of all the
Three. As to the Paffages of holy Scripture, which are here added, they are, I confefs, fo needlefs, and
fo oddly applied, that were there no better Uſe to be made of them, I fhould be inclined to think with the
Papifts, that the People were not much injured, in being debarred from reading them.
"What is faid of St. Beuno's Nobility, I relate out of an unquestionable Manu-
"fcript.
He ſhould have told us of what Authority his Manufcript was, for I have procured a Copy of Beuno's
Life, from an unquestionable MS. in which his Nobility is a little otherwife derived, than it ſeems to be
in his; and till I know the contrary, I fhall take mine to be the more authentical: But I ſubmit it to the
Reader, to judge if any Defcent can be greater than that which follows.
Saint BEUNO's Pedigree.
Beuno the Son of Bugu, the Son of Gwynlliw, the Son of Tegid, the Son of Cadell Drynlluc, the Son
of Categyrn, the Son of Gorthreyrun, the Son of Gorthegyrn, the Son of Kyllegyrn, the Son of Debeu-
wynt, the Son of Eudegan, the Son of Euddegem, the Son of Elud, the Son of Eudos, the Son of
Eudolen, the Son of Afallach, the Son of Amalech, the Son of Belym, the Son of Anna, the Mother of
that Anna that was Coufin-German to the Virgin Mary the Mother of Chriſt.
Thus is Beuno's Nobility unquestionable by any reaſonable Man, confirmed by two ſuch Manuſcripts.
I have printed his Life at the End, that the Reader might fee, that Beuno and Wenefrede were not only
nearly allied, (as this new Life tells us) but that there were many concordant Paffages and Accidents in
their Lives; or, at leaſt, that they who wrote their Legends thought fo: And I fhall be obliged to any
learned Popiſh Prieſt, who will tell me, why Beuno's Life is not as credible, in all its Parts, as that of
Wenefrede.
"And I prefumed, that the Supplement of a few late Miracles would add Fuel to
"the Fire of Devotion.
A true undoubted Miracle, and well attefted, is of great Force and Efficacy, both to beget, confirm,
and increaſe Faith and Devotion; but monftrous Stories, and impertinent Relations, beget Contempt of
Miracles, and prejudice the Chriftian Faith exceedingly.
"You'll find me faithful to the Author; my only Apprehenfion is, that I have
been deficient in the Saint's due Praiſes.
'Tis impoffible to be faithful to Robertus Salopienfis, and at the fame Time to be deficient in the Prai-
ſes of his Saint Wenefrede. My Opinion is, however, that the Author of this new Life has been nei-
ther faithful to the one, nor deficient to the other.
cc
"Some perchance may think I am too liberal in the Elogium; for we are fallen
"into an Age of Infidelity, and we are dreadfully over-run with Deifts, I wiſh not
"with Atheiſts too, who fap the very Foundations of Revealed Religion, and allow
equal Credit to the Alcoran and Talmud, they do to the Old and New Teftament.
"Such as will not believe that the Rod of Aaron commanded Streams from a dry
“Rock, or that Lazarus rotting in his Tomb returned to Life, will droll upon St.
Wenefrede's Well, and her Refufcitation. As if there were no Mean between too
« credulous a Belief, and the Madneſs of believing nothing at all, when ſhocking
our wild Fancy, though back'd with the ſtrongeſt Evidence of Human Autho-
rity.
(c
<<
(c
That there are Atheists in the Kingdom I have Reafon to believe, and Deifts in much greater Num-
ber; but that this wicked Number is fo prodigiouſly great at preſent, and ſo exceedingly increaſed within
theſe few Years, is what I cannot eafily allow, although it is fo much the common Cry, that not to fall
in with it is enough to make one paſs for one of that bad Number with many People. But I know that it has
ferved the Purpoſe of fome defigning Men fo well, to have the Date of the Growth of Infidelity fixed to or
about the Time of the late Revolution, that I very much fufpect the Truth of the Fact upon that very
Account; nor do I at all wonder that the Popish Party does fo readily chime in with that, and all other
Cries that tend to the depreciating that great Deliverance, that might have proved fo fatal to their Intereft.
And yet, of all Men living, none can declaim against the Atheists and the Deifts increafing in England
with a worſe Grace, or can be leſs in earneſt, than the Popish Priests, as well becauſe it is, as it were,
the Rain and Sun-fhine that procures them the more plentiful Harveſt; as alfo, that nothing in the World
does
;
:
The Editor's Preface to the Devour Pilgrims.
609
does more naturally beget, promote, and increaſe Contempt of all Revealed Religion, than the feeing
the groffeft Corruptions of Popery pretend to ftand upon the fame Bottom, claiming the fame Sanction
and Authority, and requiring the fame Belief, and Reverence, and Obedience with the moft plain and
undifputed Articles of our common Chriftian Faith, and our moft neceffary Duties. This is too large a
Field to enter on in general; but who would not be tempted to believe the Fables in the Talmud and the
Alcoran are full as credible as the Relations of the Old and New Teftament, if the Story of Wenefrede's
Head being fet on again, and of the fpringing of her Well juft in that Place and Time, and all the Mira-
cles related of her, must be told with the fame Affurance, believed with the fame Faith, entertained with
the fame Certainty, and compared with the Relations of Mofes's ftriking the Rock, and the Waters
flowing thereupon, and with our Saviour's raiſing Lazarus from the Dead? If Robert of Salop's Hiſtory bë
of equal Credit and Authority with the Accounts of Mofes and St. John, it will not be in any body's Power
to make the Credit of the Old and New Teftament greater than that of the Talmud and the Alcoran;
becauſe the Talmud and the Alcoran are certainly of equal Credit with the Life and Death of Wenefrede.
Such as will not believe the Miracles of the Old and New Teftament, will droll upon Wenefrede's Well
and her Refufcitation; no doubt of it: But they who disbelieve the latter, will not neceffarily disbelieve
the former, unlefs you tell them that they ftand upon the fame Bottom, and have the fame Autho-
rity. If the Story of Wenefrede be as well attefted as the Account of Lazarus, they will deſerve and have
the fame Credit. But he who tells me this, and tells me at the fame time, that the Story of Wene-
frede depends upon the Credit of Prior Robert, tells me (in Truth and in Effect) that St. John is of no
more Authority: And I would fain know who it is, in this Cafe, that faps the Foundations of Revealed
Religion? who it is that brings the Miracles of the Old and New Teftament into Contempt or Diſeſteem?
But to fave himſelf from theſe Confequences, he tells us, There is a Mean betwixt believing too much, and
believing nothing, though back'd with the strongest Evidence of Human Authority. There is a Mean be-
twixt theſe two Extreams without doubt; but then he ſhould have told us what Parts of this admirable
Life we were obliged to believe; which were most credible, which lefs, which not at all. Now this is
not the Cafe of Scripture Hiftories, which are intirely to be credited; and no one Part of the Relation
more than another; and therefore are not, in my Opinion, without Impiety, to be compared with any
Legendary Stories.
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CC
"Others, by the Misfortune of Education (whom I truly compaffionate) will be
fomething out of Humour, when they find undoubted Miracles in that Church,
which they reject.
No confidering Man either does or can deny, that God may work Miracles, whenfoever, wherefoever,
and by whomsoever he pleafes. He has certainly wrought them by Jews, by Gentiles, and by Chriſtians;
and he may do fo ftill, if he pleaſe. I do not doubt but that he does at this Day, according as his Wiſdom
and his Goodneſs leads him, work many Miracles among the Turks, the Perfians, and the Moors, the
Indians, and the Heathens of all Sorts; and with the Proteftants as well as Papifts. And why then
fhould a Proteftant be out of Humour to find undoubted Miracles in the Church of Rome? A Proteftant
would neither turn Turk, nor Jew, nor Gentile, though he ſhould ſee that God wrought Miracles among
them; and why fhould he turn Papift on the like account? I believe he may fafely do it, whenever he fees
undoubted Miracles wrought by God, on purpofe to atteft the Truth of any Point of true Popery, in which
the two Religions differ: But there is no Reafon why a Proteftant ſhould turn Papift, becaufe Miracles
are wrought amongſt Papiſts, (if you will take their Word for it) becauſe they may be wrought to
atteft the Truth of Common Chriftianity, or for fome other good Purpoſe of God, that has no Relation to
the Points in Controverfy. But that which this New Editor means by this, is, that Proteftants will be
out of Humour to find undoubted Miracles wrought by Wenefrede, who was of the Church of Rome. But
I believe there will not be many Proteftants out of Humour upon this Account, becauſe I think there will
be no undoubted Proofs; 1. That ever there was fuch a Woman in Being; nor, 2. That ſhe was of the
Church of Rome; nor, 3. That ſhe ever wrought any undoubted Miracles, either living or dead.
1
"How the primitive Paftors, as St. Beuno, whofe Feaft is celebrated on the 14th
"of January, and St. Elerius's on the 13th of June, exhorted rich, noble, and beau-
"tiful Virgins to renounce the World, and to confecrate themſelves wholly to their
"Bleffed Redeemer by religious Vows.
I am very well affured that Men of more Authority and Worth, and of much greater Antiquity, than
Beuno and Elerius, have, in their Exhortations to Virginity, faid fo many ftrange, exalted, hyperbolical
Things in Commendation of that State, which was never appointed or commanded of God, and to the
Derogation of the Sanctity of Marriage, which was inftituted by God in the Times of Man's Innocence,
and under the Reputation of whofe Holinefs our Saviour was himſelf born (altho' it was impoffible he ſhould
have any other Father but God) that I am fure they can neither anſwer it to God, nor to their own Pa-
rents; and therefore that Beuno and Elerius fhould do the fame, is no Wonder at all, if ever there were
any ſuch Exhortations made by them. But indeed I am not fatisfied that we have any good Proofs of
any thing but their Names left us; and I ſay the fame thing of them that I fay of Wenefrede, that no Au-
thor has fo much as named their Names that lived 500 Years within the Time affigned for their living.
And I believe it is the good Prior of Shrewsbury that muſt vouch for them all, or my Anonymous Writer,
who yet fays nothing of Elerius. And in Affirmance of my Opinion, I have tranfcribed an old British
Calendarium out of the Cotton-Library above 500 Years old. It is in Vefpaf. A. 14. and the Title is,
De Sanctis Wallicis Calendarium. St. Bernard is in it, by which we know it cannot be older than 1153,
4 E
when
610
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims..
when he died, or about ten Years after, when he was Canonized. Now in this Calendarium of Welch
Saints in particular, and written after Robert had written the Life of Wenefrede, there are no fuch Names
as Wenefrede, or Beuno, or Elerius, to be found in it; which is a kind of Demonftration that theſe three
Names were not at that Time in any great Repute for Sanctity, or working Miracles.
"How on this Account St. Wenefrede offered herſelf a Sacrifice to preſerve her
" vowed Virginity; which pure Oblation was fo acceptable to God, that he recom-
penced it with ſuch a ſtupendous Miracle, as neither the precedent (fays Creffy ) nor
fubfequent Ages of the Church (fave that at St. Paul's Decollation) could afford one
"to equal it.
•
<<
Never was fo ridiculous a Legend founded on fo weak a Bottom. Take the whole Story for a certain
Truth. A young Prince one Sunday Morning comes to a Lord's Houſe, and finds his only Daughter all
alone, and immediately falls in Love with her, and tells her, If fhe will but lie with him, he will cer-
tainly marry her afterwards, and make her a Princefs. She being virtuouſly diſpoſed, and having vowed
to be a Nun, makes her Excufe at prefent, and tells him ſhe will wait upon his Highneſs by and by, when
fhe is better prepared for his Reception; and under this Pretence gets out at a Back-Door, and runs as faft as
ſhe can towards the Church, in hopes fhe might be there fecure from his Attempts: The Prince immedi-
ately purſues and overtakes her e'er ſhe could get thither, and asking her once more if ſhe would yield to his
Defires, and being told fhe was already engaged to Chrift, and could not poffibly do it, he was ſo enraged, that
he drew out his Sword, and cut her Head off preſently. Now, I defire to know, where is the extraordinary
Merit of this Virgin in all this Matter? Can one reaſonably fuppofe, that there is any one honeft Maid in all
Flyntſhire that would not do as much as Wenefrede did to avoid a furious Raviſher, and fave her Virtue? and
that too for very Honeſty's fake, without the Obligation of a Vow to become a veiled Nun? I have no great
Opinion of the Virtue of this Author's Devout Pilgrims, as if it were any ways beyond or above the Virtue
of thoſe who ſtay at home: But yet I hope that not a fingle one of all thofe tender Virgins who tremble at a
Northern Blaft, yet fink with fuch Alacrity under the Waters of Holy-well, would behave herſelf any
worſe than Wenefrede here did; fhe would, I hope, reject with Scorn fo fcandalous and wicked a Proffer,
made by a Man of little better Quality than herſelf, and that at the firſt Viſit too. I hope fhe would make
as good Excuſes for Delay, and get away as faft as fhe could from him; and ſhould he overtake her in the
Common or the Street, and tempt her there again, I hope fhe would have the Virtue to refuſe him, and en-
dure the utmoſt that he in his wicked Rage could do to her. Yet this is all that Wenefrede is faid to have
done, taking good Father Robert's Word for the Truth of all that paffed. This is the Virtue, this the
Merit, this the pure Oblation, that was fo acceptable to God, that he muft work fo ftupendous a Miracle
to recompence it, that no Age paft, or to come, could afford one equal to it, excepting that at the Behead-
ing of St. Paul; the Veins of whofe Head and Neck did not, it feems, bleed Blood, but Milk; and whofe
Head, when it was new cut off, made three Leaps, in each of which Places immediately ſprang up a Well
of ſweet Water. But with the Favour of F. Crefy, the Preference is ftill due to Wenefrede; for though
three Springs are more than one, yet did the Head of St. Paul lie quiet at the laft, and was not again
united to its Neck, to live full fifteen Years after (as uſeful a Head as it was) which was the Cafe of We-
nefrede. And to fhew I have no Prejudice to this, or any other British Saint, I affure the Reader I
take the Story of this Rife of Wenefrede's Well, to be full as true as that of St. Paul's three Springs. And
I cannot tell whether I ought not to be aſhamed to be found more knowing in theſe Matters than F. Creſſy,
who thinks St. Wenefrede's Cafe to be only equalled by that of St. Paul; whereas I know a great many
Cafes that are equal, if not fuperior to them both, if it would do any Good to produce them here: He
who would fee them, may look into the Chapter of Miracles, or that of Waters.
<<
"Theſe Men are unwilling to hear, how St. Beuno deſpiſed his Hereditary Patri-
mony and Glory, to become a poor Miniſter of the Gofpel. How in the primitive
"Times the Holy Mafs was offered to the Eternal Father, to apply the Fruits of our
Redemption: How Sacred Reliques were honoured; and praying for the Faithful
departed was practiſed, as St. Elerius confided St. Wenefrede would do for his Soul,
" he being of Opinion that ſhe would furvive him,
(c
<c
'Tis a common thing for the Writers of this low Kind, to mix and confound the Times of which they
write with the Times in which they live; and in ſpeaking of the former, to deſcribe the Manners and
the Cuſtoms of the latter. The Doctrines delivered by Robert in the Life of Wenefrede are certainly the
Doctrines of Robert's Days; but it does not follow that they were the Doctrines of the Days when Wene-
frede is ſuppoſed to have lived. I do not ſay they were not, but I fay that Robert's Authority does not
prove they were; that muſt be proved by Writers of that Age and Century. And yet this is the Fal-
lacy that M. Alford would put upon his Readers; he would have them take for granted, that the Doctrines
in the Life of Wenefrede, written 500 Years after, were the Doctrines of the British Church 500 Years
before; which, were it really true, yet it is not to be proved in that manner to any one's Conviction.
The Time allotted by Alford, Creffy, and thoſe who follow them, to St. Wenefrede's Living, is about the
Year 660 I know they have no good Grounds to go upon, in affigning this rather than any other Time,
for the Time in which fhe lived; for Robert is filent in the Matter, and after Robert comes no body for
above 400 Years, that pretends to tell us when the lived. But I difpute not when ſhe lived; let it be in 660,
as
The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
611
as they pretend to guefs; I only ask by what Figure thofe Times are called Primitive Times, and the
Doctrines then in Fafhion Primitive Doctrines? But, after all, why fhould he think a Proteftant unwilling
to hear that Beuno left a great Eſtate, and all his Honour, to become a poor Miniſter of the Goſpel, when
he is glad to hear that the Apoſtles forfook all and followed Chriſt, and reads with Pleaſure, that
many rich
and honourable Perfons did the like in After-Ages? What Harm is this to a Proteftant? As for offering
the Holy Mafs to the Eternal Father, to apply the Fruits of our Redemption, it is what I do not fufficient-
ly understand, nor I believe this New Editor himself; but of this I am fure, that there is no fuch thing
faid in Robert's Life of Wenefrede: His Expreffions are, the celebrating Mass, and celebrating the Divine
Myfteries; and further he goes not. What Occafion has a Proteftant to be difturbed at hearing that Peo-
ple of old honoured Reliques, when he himſelf would honour them, were he aflured they were the Re-
liques of Chrift's Saints and Martyrs? What a ridiculous Thing is it, to fancy that Proteftants have not
the fame Curiofity, and the fame Affections that Papiſts have in thofe Matters, could they believe they
were not cheated in the Wares? They would not proftrate themſelves before an old Shoe, though they
were fure it were St. Cyprian's; they would not lift up Eyes or Hands to him in Prayer on that Account,
nor rub any Beads upon it; they would do nothing filly, nothing fuperftitious to it, or before it; but I
believe they would give Money for it, they would look often on it, confider its Shape, and Make, and
Matter, preferve it carefully, and would not lofe it for a confiderable Price; and I know not whether they
would not value it equally with his Foot. The Difference betwixt us is, that we are longer in believing
fuch a Relique belonged to fuch a Saint than the Papifts, and do not afterwards think it can work fo great
Miracles as they are apt to think. And, laftly, why fhould a Proteftant be loth to believe, that praying for
the Faithful departed was heretofore practifed, when he knows, (if he be a Scholar) that fome People did
actually pray for the Virgin Mary and the Apostles, and other holy Men and Women, when they were
fure, and owned that they were fure, they were in Heaven and happy? What is all this to the Purpoſe,
unleſs it be made our Duty, enjoined by God, or plain that it is uſeful to the Living and the Dead? Has
not a Proteftant as much natural Affection to his Relations, as much Kindneſs to his Friends, and as
much Compaffion to all Chriftians, as a Papift has? And what ſhould keep him then from praying for
fuch as departed this Life in a leſs fafe Condition than he fears they ſhould, but that he finds no manner
of Ground in God's Word to believe that any thing we do can alter that Condition for the better? That
fince the Holy Ghoft has faid, that every Man muft give an Account to God of his own Works done in
the Fleſh, it would be ſtrange that another's Prayers, or Alms, or Faftings, or Oblations, fhould atone,
or be accepted for my Tranfgreffions, when I am dead. All Men are willing to believe the things that
make for their Security, their Eafe, and Intereft, and therefore Proteftants can have no Prejudice againſt
theſe Doctrines, but that they are perfuaded there is neither Reaſon nor Revelation to fupport them. But
after all, Elerius does not fay that Wenefrede fhould pray for him, when dead; he fays he was glad that
God had fent her to that Place to bury him, when dead; Meique Memoriam poft Obitum meum habitu-
ram, and to make honourable Mention of him after his Deceafe; for fo he explains it afterwards, Qui &
me fepeliret, & hunc incolens Locum poft me, celebrem illum faceret, for which he faid he had prayed to God:
Not but that People did, in Elerius's fuppofed Time, pray for the Dead; and that memoriam habere does
alfo fignify to remember the Dead, by reading in the Diptycks the Names of the Deceaſed, as was the
Cuſtom of much elder Times; but it fignifies here no more than remembring him, when dead, with
Honour.
"If theſe Chriftian Articles are to be fet afide, and antiquated, by Confequence
general Councils, canonized Doctors, and ancient Hiſtories, muſt be fuppreffed
"and repealed, as delivering and encouraging the fame primitive Doctrine.
Voluntary Vows of Poverty, honouring Reliques, and praying for the Dead, tho' they ſhould all of
them be innocent and allowable, yet might be fafely laid afide, not only without Prejudice, but to the
Advantage of Chriftianity. They are, at the beft, great Snares, Occafions of many Errors, and the
Foundation of a world of fuperftitious Practices; they help to fill the Monafteries and Nunneries, and
furniſh out Proceffions and fine Shows; and by feeding the Fire of Purgatory, they provide a good In-
come for the Prieſts. But Chrift's Religion was compleat before theſe Things were thought on; and fo
it would be, tho' all the Councils, Doctors, and ancient Hiſtories that treat of theſe Articles, were at the
Bottom of the Sea, never to riſe again.
<<
Quick-fighted Alford forefaw it expedient, if not neceffary, to folve an Objection
" which ſome captious Criticks might glory in, viz. Why V. Bede makes no Mention
"of glorious St. Wenefrede in his Hiftory: He anſwers, That Bede, Malmesbury, Hun-
c tington, and other ancient Authors, who wrote at large of fome Saints, are filent in
"the Praiſe of our Virgin Martyr, becauſe they only recorded the Acts and Monu-
"ments of their reſpective Saints and Churches. V. Bede in particular declares he
only defigned to write the Hiftory of his own Nation, which was the English Saxon.
"Hence he makes no mention of St. Patrick, St. Urfula, David, Dubritius, Kenti-
<<
<c
CC
gern, who were illuſtrious Lights of the Britiſh Church. Alford adds, that there
being an irreconcileable Separation betwixt the Britons and Saxons, not only as to
"Diſtance of Place, but likewiſe as to Tempers and Affections, all manner of
"Commerce
612 The Editor's Preface to the Devout Pilgrims.
:
"Commerce was interdicted; infomuch that V. Bede, who lived and died in the
"North of England, could not have fuch certain Knowledge of what paffed in the
"Weft, as to infert it in his Hiftory.
I have, in the Chapter of Notes, urged this Objection farther than Alford could think fit to do, and
confidered his Anfwer fo thoroughly, that I will fay but very little to it here, and refer the Reader to
that Chapter, if he require more Satisfaction. V. Bede, as much a Stranger as he was to the Britiſh Af-
fairs, and notwithſtanding all the Enmity betwixt the Nations, yet wrote the Hiſtory of St. Alban, and
of SS. Julius and Aaron, who were Britons, and fuffered at Caerleon upon Usk; and, I believe, if ever
he had heard of Wenefrede, he could not have forborn telling us her Story: So would Stephen Heddius his
Contemporary in his Life of Wilfride Archbiſhop of York, where he has often Occafion to talk of the
Britons, whom he always calls Schifmaticks, becauſe they would not keep their Eaſter on the fame Day
with the Romish Church, nor make any ufe of the Pope's Barbers, but polled their Priefts Heads by a
Pattern of their own. I fay the fame thing of W. Malmesbury, Huntington, Ethelward, Ingulfus, Flo-
rentius Wigorn; of Roger Hoveden, Roger of Wendover, Robert de Monte; Walter Hemingford, Mat-
thew Paris, Matthew Westminster; and, in a word, of all the Writers, good and bad, from Bede to Ra-
nulph Higden a Monk of Chefter, about the Year 1360. There is not one of them has fo much as named
her Name, till the laft put her Stóry into eighteen or twenty monkifh Latin Rhymes, and gave it us, in
a Poem, intitled De Laudabilibus Wallia. The Anfwer to all this is, it feems, that they were all of
them Anglo-Saxons, ignorant or envious Writers, or who had fomething elfe to do, than to take any no-
tice of foreign Saints. But this will never paſs upon any Man, who has ever read all, or any of theſe
Authors. There is not one of them who would not have gone a hundred Miles, as it were, out of his
way, to have told the Story of Wenefrede's Head being fet on again upon her Shoulders; not one of them
who would not fooner have left out a whole King's Reign, than Wenefrede's Refufcitation, had he belie-
ved or heard of any fuch thing. You may be confident, therefore, that the utter Silence of each and all
of theſe Hiſtorians, did not proceed from any Deſign, Spite, or national Pique, but from pure Ignorance
of the Matter. That Bede makes no mention of St. Patrick, Dubrice, David, and Kentigern, is indeed
an Argument to me, (confidering the Temper of the good Man) that he knew nothing of them. But
fuppofing that he had heard of their great Virtues, and yet would make no mention of Men or Things
that were foreign to his Hiſtory, (which yet is not his Way) does any one think it poffible he ſhould have
concealed the Story of Wenefrede, had he known it? The reft of the Saints were very extraordinary Per-
fons indeed, and famous in their Day, but not one of them had his Head cut off, and fet on again, which
makes, you know, a great Difference betwixt St. Wenefrede and them. But the Force of the Objection
does not lie in the Silence of V. Bede alone, but in the Silence of all Writers whatſoever, that treat of our
Affairs, not only Anglo-Saxons, but of Nennius, Affer Menevenfis, Jeffery of Monmouth, Caradoc of Lan-
carvan, and of (one as good as all in this Point) Giraldus Cambrenfis; who were all of them Britons, Hi-
ſtorians, and very good Believers; of whom I have given an Account (as I faid) in another Place, to which
I muſt needs refer the Reader, if he be any ways fcrupulous.
"In this little Undertaking, I looked on myſelf as a Debtor to the Unwife, as
"well as to the Wife; therefore in handling the Subject, I avoided all quaint and un-
common Expreffions, as might require Study in the Vulgar. Plainneſs of Style,
"without Theatre-Drefs, beft becomes thoſe who write to inform and edify the
"meaneft State and Condition.
(C
The Editor of this Book, if he were fo before, is ſtill a Debtor to the Wife, for, furely, he has paid
them nothing in it. I am altogether of his Mind, that plain Language beft becomes thofe, whoſe Pur-
poſe it is to inform and edify plain People; but he who finds himſelf a Debtor to the Unwife, fhould alſo
think he ought to pay them with plain Truths, as well as plain Engliſh; and I am a little afraid that even
the Pilgrims will not go away much edified with this poor Story he has told them.
"I will not detain you any longer (my dear devout Pilgrims;) yet before I take my
"Leave, I moft humbly and earneſtly crave a charitable Remembrance at the holy
"Well; and I faithfully affure you of a grateful Return. We are all of us Paffengers
"in this World, and no more than Strangers and Sojourners upon Earth. Let us
"unite in Prayer, for a happy finiſhing of our Journey, that after this mortal Pilgri-
mage, we may ſafely arrive at the glorious Fountain of eternal Life, where we fhall
"be inebriated with a Torrent of Pleaſure, rendring Thanks, loving and adoring our
"moft merciful and omnipotent God, World without End.
To this I have nothing to ſay, but a fincere Amen, as wishing both the Author and his Pilgrims all true
Happineſs. But I take this Opportunity, to defire the Reader not to cenfure me too eafily, as one who has
taken too much Pains, and fhewn myſelf too much in earneſt, in confuting fo poor a Story as this of
Wenefrede. Holy-well is a Fountain of great Superſtition; and as ridiculous and idle as the Fable may
appear to Proteftants, it does not, as yet, appear fo to the Papifts: And it is for their Sake and Service that
I have taken the Pains thefe Obfervations coft me; and for their Sake would take much greater, if I knew
I could be uſeful to them in fo doing.
THE
ΤΗΕ
LIFE, MARTYRDOM, and MIRACLES
!
O F
:
St. WEN E FRIDE, &c.
M
ANY are the evident Motives of Credibility, clearly diſtinguiſhing the
unſpotted Church of Jefus Chrift from heterodox Perfuafions, which are
built on private Fancy, and for the moſt part on Faction. Among the
reft, confummate Sanctity, and undeniable Miracles, challenge their due
Places. The holy Apostles, before they ſeparated to promulge the Goſpel thro' the
Univerſe, in the Symbol of Faith, inftructed future Ages, that the Spouse of Chrift,
purchaſed with the Effufion of his moft facred Blood, is holy; I believe in the holy
Catholick Church. Other Sects pretending to Religion, lean, or to ſpeak more pro-
perly, lead on to agreeable Liberty, which powerfully invites and brings over vaſt
Crowds of loofe Profelytes. As to Miracles, which fet a Seal on the true Faith, the
immortal Son of God hath affured us, that thofe who believe in him ſhall do greater
Wonders than he wrought himſelf, St. John xiv. 12. The Life of St. Wenefride is
very confpicuous, as to both thefe genuine Marks of Miracles and Sanctity; as it will
more clearly appear by her wonderful Actions, and the feveral Steps by which fhe
arrived at ſo high a State of Perfection.
a
C
In the feventh Age after Man's Redemption, flourished many Saints of both Sexes.'
I ſhall only mention thoſe chiefly concerned in this fhort Hiftory. • St. Beuno, the
glorious Inftrument of St. Wenefride's fecond Life and Sanctity, was born of noble
Parents in Mongomeryshire, at the Fall of the River Rhyw into Severn, therefore
called Aberbyw. His Father Binfi defcended lineally from Cadell, Prince of Glefwig;
and his Mother derived her Pedigree from Anna (who was married to the King of
the Pics) Sifter to the mighty and renowned King Arthur, who departed happily
this Life, and was interred at Glaftenbury, in the Year 542. His Grandfather was
St. Gundeleius, and he was near related to ſeveral eminent Saints; amongſt the reſt,
he was Coufin German to St. Kentigern, Biſhop of Glasgow, who, forced from Scot-
land,
'Tis a new Thing to hear, that Papifts, in great Crowds, turn Proteftants, that they may live
more looſely and more at large than they might have done in their own Communion: It will hardly be
believed by any one who knows how indulgent moſt of their Confeſſors are, and what Allowances they
make. I fear that neither Side has much the Advantage in Reproaches of this Nature, as to Practice;
but certainly the Principles and Rules of Proteſtants allow of no unlawful Liberties in any kind whatever.
b It neither is nor can be literally true, that any one ever did greater Miracles than Chriſt did. The
Apoftles and firft Difciples of Chrift might work more Miracles than their Mafter, and their Miracles
might convert more People to the Faith, and have a greater and a quicker Effect upon their Minds, than
thoſe which our Saviour wrought among the Jews. And in this Senfe the Words were juftified by the
Event; the fpeedy Converſion of ſo great a Part of the World by fo few Hands in fo fhort a Time, as
both the Scriptures and other antient Writers tell us was done, is a convincing Proof that the Servants
were, in this Point, greater than their Maſter, and the Difciples than their Lord. But to imagine that
any of them either did or could work greater Miracles than Chrift did, in curing all Diſeaſes by a Word,
and in his Abfence, and raifing People from the Dead, and the like, is to imagine what no Man living
can comprehend, and what no Hiftory, that can be credited, has ever given us any Inftance or Example
of. But for this I refer the Reader to The Chapter of Miracles, in which I have fhewn, that this of
St. John xiv. 12. is one of thofe abuſed Texts that is laid as a Foundation for the moſt ridiculous and moſt
abfurd Legends in the World: And that I might not want an Inftance of the Application of this Text to
this bad Purpoſe, the preſent Book affords me one. The Miracles of St. Wenefrede are, it ſeems, to con-
vince us, that that Promife of our Saviour was made good in her great Works.
See the Life of St. Beuno, at the End, tranflated from the British MS. in Jefus-College, Oxon, and
which is certainly of equal Credit and Authority with the Life of Wenefrede, and may be of great Uſe
in fixing the Chronology of thefe Saints Lives, which is yet fomewhat doubtful.
4 F
614
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
land, founded the Biſhoprick of St. Asaph, from his Difciple of that Name, whom he
left to govern that Church.
Young Beuno was educated under the Direction of a holy Man called St. Dange-
fius; and he advanced fo faft in Perfection, that he ſpent two or three Days and
Nights in continual Prayer, ſo that he was drawn with Reluctancy to refreſh faint-
ing Nature. He took an early Surfeit of worldly Vanity, he renounced the flatter-
ing Allurements of terrene Pleaſures, and exchanged the glittering Grandeur of an
opulent Fortune for the poor Habit of a Monk; refolving to ſpend the Remainder of
his Days in the Practice of Evangelical Counfels. Being well fettled, and throughly
grounded in the Apoftolical Inſtitute, he obſerved the following laudable Practice to
promote the Honour of his Creator. When he had built a Church and Monaſtery,
and there eſtabliſhed regular Diſcipline, he removed to fome other Part of the Coun-
try to perform the like Duty to God; fo that in few Years he became a common Fa-
ther to numerous Religious, who reſpected him as their holy Founder.
d
This zealous Monk having finiſhed his Monaftery at Clynoc Vawr in Carnarvan-
Shire, found himſelf powerfully infpired to vifit his Relations in Flintshire. 'Tis true,
he had long before bid adieu to all Ties of Flesh and Blood; but he underſtood this
Call as a Voice from Heaven. A rich and potent Lord in that Part of North Wales
where now Holy-Well is, had marry'd the virtuous and noble Lady Wenlo, & Siſter to
St. Beuno. His Name was Thewith; fome write him Trebwith; but a Manufcript
now before me, of one of the eruditeſt Antiquaries of the laſt Age, ſays his Name was
Tyvid. Thefe Parents of St. Wenefride, by an exemplary and truly Chriftian Life,
ſurpaſs'd their high Extraction. They reckon'd folid Virtue as the moſt diſtinguiſh-
ing Quality, and they pitied vicious Potentates, who are contemptible in the Eyes of
the King of Kings. St. Wenefride, the Glory of Weft Britain, was born in the trouble-
fome Reign of King Cadwallawn; and St. Beuno made his Vifit to his Brother-in-
Law's Houſe, in the Reign of King Eluith, the fecond of that Name. The vene-
rable Monk, having with much Humility, and great Modefty, made himſelf known,
he told them, That he was fent by Almighty God to honour him there, as he had
done in other Places; and that he neither expected, nor craved any other Favour,
than a ſmall Parcel of his large Territories, fufficient to build a Church on; where
others, with myself (faid he) will daily pray for your Safety and Happiness.
e
Thewith (I ſhall ſtile him ſo for the future) was not in the miſerable Catalogue of
thoſe thoughtleſs blind Worldlings, who are prodigal in Vanity and Oftentation, but
ſtart and frown at the firſt Propoſal of parting with ſmall Matters for the Advantage
of their Souls. No, he looked forward with other Eyes, towards a more permanent
Being, than here upon fordid Earth; therefore returned the following Anſwer:
With
To fatisfy his complaining Pilgrims, the Editor (or rather Author) of this new Life, is very careful
to give them a very particular Account of Wenefrede's Relations. He tells us, her Mother was my Lady
Wenlo, and that St. Beuno was her Uncle, and her Father's true Name Tyvid: Which are Diſcoveries
that are owing entirely to the MS. that was before him; for Robert of Salop fays no fuch thing, nor the
Oxon Life of Beuno, nor the Cotton MS. nor any other Account, Latin or Englifh, in Verſe or Profe
(for I have all before me, in fad Abundance.) However, I do not queftion the Editor's Sincerity herein;
but only take Occafion from hence to pray theſe Pilgrims to confider upon what Uncertainties they travel,
upon what poor and wretched Bottoms the Lives of their Saints are built.
* The Editor fays, Beuno vifited his Sifter in the Reign of King Eluith the fecond of that Name. I believe
it would puzzle the eruditeft Antiquaries of all Wales, to tell us when, or where, Eluith, either First or
Second, reigned. But fince he copies his Miſtake from 7. F. the Jefuit, I will fet them both right. It
is in Robertus Salopienfis thus Pervenit ad Prædium cujufdam Magni & Potentiffimi Viri, nomine
Theuith, qui filius unius fummi atque excellentiffimi Senatoris, & à Rege fecundi, Eluith nomine. Which
is in Engliſh ----He came to the Manor-Houfe of a certain great and mighty Man, whofe Name was
Teuith; who was the Son of a most high and excellent Lord, and the very next Man to the King, whoſe
Name was Eluith. The Jefuit had, by conftruing wrong, created a new Prince of North Wales, (of
which there was no manner of Need; ) and tho' he be now depofed, yet Wenefrede has thereby got a
Grandfather, even Eluith, the Father of Teuith, who I defire may be hereafter placed in his right Gene-
alogical Order.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
615
With good Reafon, holy Father, I am obliged to give you Part of the Lands I now poffefs,
for his Sake and Service who bestowed them all upon me. You have pleasured me in asking
this Charity, which is more advantagious to me than to you who propofe it: Therefore
from this very Day, I do abfolutely alienate from myfelf, and my Pofterity, this Manor
I now live in, and with Joy I furrender unto you all my Right and Title, and I put
you into Poffeffion. I humbly beg a Favour, that having one only Child, a tender Vir-
gin, who is my ſpecial Comfort, you'll inftruct her in heavenly Documents, that her Life
and Converfation may be holy, pleafing to God, and joyful to her Parents. After this
generous Settlement, the Nobleman made choice of a Dwelling-Seat, not far diftant
from the Place he had given to St. Beuno; where, on a Hill, he could fee the Church
where the Servants of God prais'd their Maker.
As Conftantine the Great, at the Building of St. Peter's Bafilica, diveſting himſelf
of his Imperial Robes, took up the Spade, broke Ground, and carry'd twelve Baskets
of Earth, in Honour of the twelve Apoftles, to caft into the Foundation, in Tefti-
mony of his Devotion to the primitive Princes of Christianity; fo in Imitation of this
heroick Pattern, the noble Lord Thewith fet afide State and Birth, many times
putting his own Hands to the holy Work. This he did to encourage others, and
to contribute in fome fort to the finiſhing of the Fabrick. The Church being
made fit to offer in it the f Divine Sacrifice, he and his Spouſe, with their only
Child, were daily prefent at holy Mass. They had this pious Cuſtom, to place their
Daughter at the Saint's Feet, at the Time of his Exhortations to the People, adviſing
her to give Attention to his excellent Doctrine. This was not neceffary, altho' reli-
giouſly ſuggeſted by pious Parents; for ſhe was ſo much tranſported with a holy Delight
in hearing him preach, that ſhe frequently vifited him alone, to difcourfe of Self-
Knowledge and Chriſtian Performances.
"Twas her Parents Intention to marry her to fome Nobleman of the Country, and
to beſtow on her a moft plentiful Fortune; but her ever bleffed Redeemer, in thoſe
tender Years, was difpofing her ſweetly for his Service. By St. Beuno's frequent Dif-
courſes, the underſtood how great, how good, and how glorious the heavenly Spouſe
was; that voluntary Virgins are like Angels upon Earth; that they follow the Lamb
wherever he goes, Apoc. xiv. that the Honours of the World are vain, and its Plea-
fures ſhort-liv'd; ſo that the very Thought of a terrene Huſband became hurtful unto her.
Wherefore the refolved to keep herſelf & undefiled, and to confecrate her pure Virginity
to the Lord of Heaven and Earth. One main Difficulty occurr'd, how to render her
Parents favourable to this heavenly Call. She burned with the Love of God, and at
the fame time ſhe refolved to fulfil the Commandment of honouring Father and Mother.
In this Struggle betwixt Divine Vocation and Chriftian Duty, the Beftower of all Lights
put her into a Method how to prepare the Way towards her Happineſs, by making
ufe of St. Beuno, as a glorious Inftrument.
This holy Man was honoured as a Saint by her Parents, and by Confequence ſhe
knew very well, that he had great Power and Authority with them, and they would
not reject any reaſonable Requeſt made by him, ſuch as ſhe took hers to be. Impa-
tient of lofing Time, for compleating her Defign, having found him one Day alone,
and at Liberty, ſhe acquainted him with the holy Fruits of his moving Diſcourſes,
and after a very pathetick Manner, humbly petitioned for his zealous Concurrence,
in preſerving the rich Treaſure of her Virginity, which ſhe refolved never to part
with, for all the Offers that the flattering World could make her. St. Beuno was
agreeably furprized at this moſt welcome News; for, as St. Paul, he defir'd all to be
like
f I have already obſerved that this is none of Robert's Expreffions, but of the Editor's own making ;
as most of the Life hitherto is.
& St. Paul's Opinion is, that Marriage is honourable in all, and the Bed undefiled; but the Monk's
Opinion is, that they who would keep themſelves undefiled, muft not marry.
616
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
like unto himſelf, 1 Cor. xi. 1. He had unfhaken Confidence in God's Power and Good-
neſs, that he who had begun the Work, would give it the finiſhing Stroke. Moreover,
being no Stranger to the fingular Piety of thoſe he was to treat with, he chearfully un-
dertook the Task, to the unexpreffible Satisfaction of the expecting Virgin.
We cannot read without flowing Tears, how faithful Abraham, in Obedience to
God's Command, had his Hand lifted up to facrifice his Son Ifaac, his only begot-
ten Son, whom he loved, Gen. xxii. 2. not ſo much as demurring at the firft Intimation
of the Omnipotent; perchance it may move us to Devotion, by a ſerious Confidera-
tion, how the Lord Thewith entertained this unexpected Petition of his dear Child.
Beſides the internal Gifts of Grace, and apparent Virtues, which charmed her devout
Parents, her Stature was well proportioned, her Face was matchlefs, her Modeſty
equalled her Beauty, Qualifications much admired by Mankind. She was the agree-
able Object of their Eyes, the Support of their Family, and the Proſpect of their Hap-
pineſs upon Earth. Yet no fooner had St. Beuno delivered his Sentiments, as to the
1 Nature of the Offering, That it was a fort of Holocauft to facrifice their Affections,
and to bequeath to their God the deareſt Creature in the World, whom they loved
more than they did themſelves, with other perfuafive Reaſons to the fame Effect
the holy Man, I fay, had no fooner ended his Difcourfe, but contrary to the Weak-
neſs of other fond Parents, Tears of Joy came trickling down Lord Thewith's Cheeks,
who, with his Spouſe, broke out in the Praiſes of Jefus Chrift, for ſo highly favour-
ring their only Child. They then called for their Daughter, and gave her full and
free Leave to forfake the World, wiſhing her a happy Progrefs in the Way of Per-
fection. They likewife declared, That the heavenly Spouse having made choice of
her, they intended to make him Heir of what they defigned for her Dowry, by dif
pofing of the fame, to his greater Honour, in pious and religious Ufes. They drew
alſo this Advantage to themſelves, of renouncing the World, fo far as was confiftent
with Perſons in their Station. They entered into a firm Refolution of giving to the
Poor great part of their Princely Wealth, of retiring from worldly Noife and Hurry,
that with an undepending Freedom they might be more abfolute Maſters of ſhort
Time, to provide and ſend before them never ending Treaſures in Heaven.
The pious Virgin receiving this coveted Grant, concluded that ſhe could never re-
turn fufficient Thanks to God for the Favour. She watched whole Nights in the
Church, either kneeling, or proftrate before the Altar, where ſhe imagined to herſelf
that fhe was in her immortal Spouse's Prefence-Chamber. Contemplation raiſed her
up into Admiration of His infinite Perfections; fo that to hear Jefus Christ only na-
med, brought joyful Tears into her Eyes from a flaming Heart. Pure Delights over-
flow'd her Soul, and looking towards Heaven, the World appeared baſe and contem-
ptible. To add Fuel to this pleafing Fire, fhe procured a little Oratory near unto
St. Beuno's Cell, to vifit him with greater Eaſe in the Day-time, and in filent Night
to practiſe her Master's Spiritual Leſſons.
The implacable Enemy of Mankind, fufpecting that fuch high Beginnings of Per-
fection in tender Years, might prove a powerful Invitation to other Noble Virgins of
defpifing themſelves and the World, employ'd one of his incarnate Emiſſaries to defeat
the Defign of the Holy Ghoſt. What Hell cannot effect by its own immediate Sug-
geſtions, it too frequently brings about by the infinuating Arguments of lewd Mortals.
Wherefore, fuch as induce others to forfeit Divine Grace by mortal Sin, are detefta-
ble Inftruments of rebellious Lucifer. As the Devil put into the Heart of Judas If-
cariot to betray the Son of God, John xiii. 2. fo he caft an impure Flame into the
Heart of Cradocus, King Alen's Son, to commit a facrilegious Rape upon Christ's
lovely Spouſe. He was fottiſhly enamoured with the Charms of her Perfon, not caſt-
ing an Eye on the Beauty of her Virtues; fo waited for an Opportunuity to gratify
his
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
617
his brutiſh Paffion, which thus happened. One Sunday St. Wenefride's Parents being
gone to Church before her, and fhe for a fhort Space detained at home on a chari-
table Account, foon to follow after; the Prince having Intelligence, entered the
Houſe, under Pretence of Bufinefs with the Lord Thewith. At first the holy Maid,
not at all fufpecting his Infincerity or Defign, received him courteoufly, with the hum-
ble Apology of her Unworthineſs to entertain one of his Royal Birth: But if you please
(faid ſhe) to repoſe yourſelf in a more convenient Room till Divine Service is ended, my
Father will be at Liberty to ferve you. To this candid and obliging Anſwer of the
baſhful Virgin, Cradocus, now more than ever inflamed with finful Defires, reply'd
in the greateſt Diſorder, That nothing could be more agreeable than to ftay in her
Company, fince it was then folely in her Power to make him happy. If the com-
ply'd with the ardent Defires of a paffionate Lover, fhe might expect all the Happi-
nefs his Power and Quality was capable of beftowing upon her.
Although the Virgin bluſh'd and trembled at the Immodeſty of this wicked Pro-
pofal, yet being perfectly preſent to herſelf in the dangerous Occafion, and fortified
with Divine Grace and Light from Heaven, fhe anfwer'd, That there was not the
leaſt Doubt to be made of enjoying Honours, Wealth, and worldly Happineſs, by
being eſpouſed to ſo noble a Prince; that ſhe was in great Confufion to be ſo fuddenly
furprized in ſuch mean Attire, not becoming his Preſence: Wherefore permit me (ſaid
fhe) to enter my Chamber adjoining to this, to better my Drefs. Cradocus, in the Heat
of his Paffion, unwillingly gave ear to the Virgin's Petition, yet could not refuſe a Re-
queft accompanied with ſo much Modeſty and ſeeming Deference to his Quality. She
no fooner got clear of fo impudent a Gueft, but flipping out privately by another
Door, fhe immediately ran towards the Church, fure of meeting with Protection
there from fo villainous an Attempt. Mean time the Prince, impatient of fo long a
Delay, and not without Sufpicion of what had happened, ruſh'd into the Room to
which ſhe retired; not finding her there he purfued her fo eagerly, that he overtook her
on the Deſcent of the Hill, before fhe could gain the Church. There with a drawn
Sword in his Hand, and with Fury in his Face, he threatens to ſeparate her Head from
her Body, unleſs fhe quickly conſented to his Will.
Here methinks appeared a lively Repreſentation of the Anguifh and Perplexities
on every Side of chaſte Suſanna, whoſe Honour and Conſcience was attempted by the
two lafcivious fudges. If the confented, it was Death to her; and if she did not, fhe
could not escape their Hands, Dan. xiii. 22. The noble Ifraelite came to this final Re-
folution, 'Tis better for me, without the Act, to fall into your Hands, than to fin in the
Sight of our Lord. Oh! that Chriftians had fuch a Horror and Deteftation of mor-
tal Sin, to look upon it as more hideous and frightful than a violent Death. St. We-
nefride was of that ſettled Opinion; ſhe had two Sorts of Deaths waiting for an An-
ſwer, a Separation of the Soul from the Body, or a Separation of the Soul from God: She
did not balance upon the Matter, but undauntedly and heroically reply'd, How, by
her Parents Approbation, ſhe was holily eſpouſed to the Son of God, who infinitely
exceeds all Power and Beauty upon Earth; that ſhe would be faithful and conftant in
her
pure Affections, and rather loſe her Life, than to admit any Corrival.
Corrival. Neither
fhall your Menaces and Terrors (faid fhe) draw me from the Sweetness of his Love, nor
fo over-awe me, as to make me recede in the least from executing what I have promiſed.
As it happens fometimes that deſpiſed carnal Love turns into Rage, fo it fared with
barbarous Cradocus, who feeing himſelf fcorn'd (as he thought) gave fuch a deadly
Blow to the Virgin's Neck, that the firſt Stroke fevered the Head from the Body;
which falling upon the Deſcent of the Hill, roll'd down to the Church, where the
Congregation was kneeling before the Altar. As they were terrify'd with the bloody
Object of her Head, fo they were aſtoniſhed to behold a clear and rapid Spring guſh-
ing out of that Spot of Ground her Head had firft fallen upon, which to this very Day
4 G
is
61.8
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
x
is vifited from all Parts by Devout Pilgrims. The Place of her Martyrdom had be-
fore her Death the Name of the Dry Valley, or Barren Bottom, which was changed
into the Title of Finbon, which in old Welsh fignifies a Fountain or Well. 'Twas alfo
obferved, that the Stones of the Well were tinctur'd with Drops, as it were, of Blood,
to perpetuate the Memory of what he had fhed for the Love of Chrift; and in Pro-
cefs of Time 'twas taken notice of, that the Mofs growing round the Well had a very
fragrant Smell, as an Emblem of the Odour of her Angelical Virtues.
1 st
1
To cloſe the laſt Act of this inhuman Tragedy, and to relate the dreadful Stroke of
Divine Juftice on the cruel Tyrant, we are to premife with Brevity, that the juſt
Grief of the holy Virgin's Parents is not to be expreffed, ſeeing their dear Child ſo
villainouſly butcher'd almoft before their Eyes. St. Beuno's Virtue was alfo put to the
Teft, to bear with true Refignation the Lofs of fo devout a Creature. Tears came
trickling down his Cheeks at the Sight of the horrid Murder. The afflicted People,
with united Voices, called upon Heaven for ſpeedy Execution against him who had
committed that heinous Outrage. Indignation accompanied Compaffion, when they
beheld the unrelenting Alain wiping his bloody Sword upon the Grafs, and glorying
in the deteftable Fact, without any Fear of God or Man. St. Beuno was preparing
to offer the unbloody Sacrifice of our Redemption, but being inſpired by him who de-
clared, Revenge to me, and I will repay it, Deut. xxxii. 35. he left the Altar, and ta-
king the bleffed Martyr's Head into his trembling Hands, he mounted the Aſcent to-
wards Cradocus. He feared not fuch a Blow as was given to the tender Virgin; on
the fame Account, for the Love of Chrift, he would have bid it welcome. Faithful
Servants of God dread nothing, Sin only excepted. Being come up to him, he ſaid,
Thou wicked Man, who, without any Regard to Innocence or Beauty, haft maſſacred
a Princely Virgin, no less nobly born than thyself! Nor doft thou repent, or feem forry,
as thou oughteft to do, for this horrid Sacrilege. I here befeech my Heavenly Lord, that,
for an Example to others, he will pleafe to execute his Divine Judgment against thee,
who haft murdered his Spouse, troubled his People, violated his Sabbath, and befprin-
kled his holy Houſe with Blood, which I confecrated to his Service. As the Earth fwal-
lowed up rebellious and perverfe Corah, Numb. xvi. ſo ſome affirm, that at St. Beuno's
laft Words, Cradocus not only dropp'd down dead, but alſo that the Earth opened to
give Paffage to the luxurious Body to fink towards his monftrous Soul, or that the
Maſter whom he had ſerved, the Devil, carried it off; for it is certain, that the Car-
cafe of the cruel Murderer never, afterwards appeared.
The Faithful glorified God in his Juftice, but could not curb their Grief. St. Beuno
earneſtly exhorted the Parents and People to turn from Lamentations, and to addreſs
the Creator of Souls, and Raifer up of dead Bodies, that as he had commanded back
Lazarus to Life, rotting in his Monument, fo, to his greater Honour and Glory,
and for the Comfort of the forrowful Parents, who had ſo generouſly dedicated this
darling Child to his Service, he would graciouſly vouchſafe to reſtore her to Life. He
then join'd the facred Head to the pale Body, covering both with his Cloak, after
which he offered up the holy Sacrifice of our Salvation.
After Mass was ended, he, lifting up his Hands to Heaven, made the following
Prayer; O Lord Jefus Chrift! for whoſe fake this holy Virgin contemn'd the World, and
languiſhed after Thee; by the tender Bowels of thy Mercy, Love, and Bounty, be graci-
ously pleafed to grant us the Effect of our Vows and Prayers humbly offered unto Thee.
We are fully perfuaded that this Godly Virgin, who lived holily, and died for Thee with
great Conftancy, is now highly exalted, and wants no more the Society of us mortal and
miferable Creatures. Yet to manifeft thy Omnipotence and Supreme Dominion which thou
haft over Souls and Bodies, which are never dead to thy Power of reuniting them; as, al-
fo to multiply the Merits of that Soul, whofe Body lies here before us: We crave a fecond
Life for her, to the end that after a long and plentiful Harvest, laden and enriched with
new
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE
619
new Merits, ſhe may return unto Thee, her Eternal Spouse, and the Beloved of her
Heart, who, with the Father and the Holy Ghoft, ruleft on Earth, and reignet in
Heaven for ever and ever. The pious People, drowned in Tears, having, with Sighs
and moving Sobs, anfwered devoutly, Amen, the Virgin arofe, as newly awaked from
Sleep. She wiped her Eyes and Face to clear away that glorious Duft, which had ſet-
tled on her lovely Head when it tumbled towards her dear St. Beuno. The Decolla-
tion of St. Wenefride is celebrated on the 22d of June.h
Contemplate here (dear Reader) the Joy and Admiration which then transported
all preſent at this wonderful Miracle. Tears burft out more plentifully, but flowing
from a different Caufe. They magnified and bleffed the boundleſs Goodnefs of her
Great God, every one refolving to rife with the Saint to a Newneſs of reforming their
paft Lives. One Particular in this furprizing Refuſcitation is very remarkable, viz.
When her Parents and others fixed their Eyes upon her Neck, they obferved a purè
white Circle, no larger than a ſmall Thread, quite round it, denoting the Place where
the Separation had been made which always after remained. From this the great
Veneration of the People for her, changed her Name, which was Brewa,i into that
of Wenefride. Wen in the old British Tongue fignifies White, and other Letters
were by an Alteration added to this Syllable, to render more agreeable the Sound of
the new Name. In the many Apparitions after her Second Death, when ſhe ſhewed
herſelf to her devout Clients, they always took fpecial notice of the aforefaid white
· Circle, which intimated to them the indelible Mark of her Spouse's Affection, for
fuffering that mortal Wound fo couragiouſly for his Sake.
1
Permit me here to break off for a while the Thread of this Difcourfe, by a fhort,
but neceffary, Digreffion, in order to obviate the Cavils of fome modern incredulous
Criticks, who ſeem now-a-days to entertain ſuch ſtrange Notions of theſe fupernatural
Works of Almighty God, that they believe nothing that ſuits not exactly with the
fanciful Ideas of their own Brain. Thefe Refiners will be apt not only to carp at
what is here related concerning this Holy Virgin's Return to Life, but perhaps alfo
turn to Ridicule what follows hereafter, of her fending Preſents to St. Beuno by the Cur-
rent of the miraculous Fountain, and feveral other wonderful Things contained in the
following Pages. As it would be highly criminal to pretend to fathom the Wiſdom
of God by our ſhallow Capacities, or to confine his Omnipotence to the bounded
Limits of the greateſt Power upon Earth; fo it would be Madneſs in us to believe
every thing, without rational Grounds and fufficient Authority. But when we find
füch Inſtances of the Infinite Power and Goodneſs of Almighty God, as we have here
in this Hiſtory recorded by learned and pious Witneffes, and handed down to
Pofterity
k.
h One MS. fays the 22d, but the Cotton one and that of Sir James Ware fay the 24th. Octavo Ka-
lend. Jul. So that fhe died upon the fame Day both at Holy-well and Guitherin. And I wonder how the
Archbishop of Canterbury, with his Clergy in Convocation affembled, came to appoint her Day to be ob-
ferved on the 3d of November, which they did in 1398, more than 700 Years after her fuppofed Death.
They also appointed Nine Leſſons to be read on her Feftival, which are yet to be feen in the Breviary fe-
cundum ufum Sarum, and which (I mention it for his Credit) are almoſt Word for Word taken out of her
Legend, written by the good Monk Robert of Shrewsbury.
Wen Brewa, Wen Vrewa, Wen Frewa, Wenefreda, as Lanfanfraid, comes from St. Bride, which
is St. Brigit. The Cotton Life takes no notice of the Change of her Name, but fays her Name was
Wenefrede always, and, which is more, calls her Candida Wenefreda; and yet he who wrote it, feems
to have been a Welchman. And the old English Legend of the Saints Lives fays thus, And ever as long
as ſhe lived after, there apiered about her Neck a Rednes round about, lyke to a rede Threde of Silk, in Signe™
and Token of her Martyrdome, which quite overthrows our Criticifm. It matters not much whether the
Circle were white or red, provided there were any; and Robert affures us, that after her laft Departure
out of this World, fhe never fhewed herſelf openly to any one, who did not alſo ſee this Circle, which I
dare fay is true.
:
* I refer the Reader to what has been faid in the Obfervations before-going, and to the Chapter of Notes,
that he may from thence determine who theſe learned and pious Witneffes were, that for 500 Years to-
gether have not fo-much as: named the Name of Wenefrede; and how her Sanctity and Miracles can be
faid to be handed down to Pofterity by an uninterrupted Tradition, when we can find no Mention made
of her during that Space of Time. From the fuppofed Time of Wenefrede to Robert of Salop are 500
Years;
620
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDÉ.
Poſterity by an uninterrupted Tradition for feveral Ages together, and never queftion'd
till theſe our Days; it is the Duty of every rational Man and pious Chriftian, rather
to acknowledge the Goodneſs of God, who appeared wonderful in theſe his Works,
than difpute his Power by cavilling at Facts, only becauſe they ſeem to fhock his
fooliſh Imagination. To condefcend to the Weakneſs of future Ages, Divine Provi-
dence feems to have taken particular Care we ſhould not want undoubted Examples
of this Nature, to facilitate our Belief. We know the Prophet Elizeus called back to
Life the Son of the Sunamite, 4 Kings iv. St. Peter rais'd Tabitha, and St. Paul the
young Man that fell from the Window, Acts ix. 20. Again, when the Sons of the
Prophets were cutting down Wood on the Banks of the River Jordan, the Head of
one of the Axes fell into the Water. The holy Prophet Elizeus cutting a Piece of
Wood, in Form of a Handle to it, caft it into the River. The Iron immediately,
contrary to its Nature, came from the Bottom, and joined the Wood, 4 Kings vi.
If fome of our modern Criticks, who pretend to more Wit than Religion, durft pub-
liſh their profane Notions on this Occafion, as freely as they do in other miraculous
Caſes, not mentioned in holy Writ, they would ask, By what “ Sympathy the
"Iron was moved from the Bottom of the River, to feek for, and by what Art it
"found out the Piece of Wood ſwimming on the Surface of the Waters? Whether
"the Recovery of the loft Head of an Ax was a Matter of fuch Importance, that
"God ſhould think fit to employ his Omnipotence, in working fo great a Miracle
“to find it ?” But to filence all fuch profane Reflections in thoſe who pretend to
Christianity, Almighty God has been pleaſed not only to work this, and the like
Miracles, but provided they ſhould be ftamp'd with Divine Truth, and delivered
down to all Ages to come, in the very Word of God itſelf.
?"
Is it harder to believe, that a little light Bundle ſhould float upon the Sea, and ar-
rive fafe in a Creek, near unto which St. Beuno then lived, without the leaft
Damage, than that the Head of an Ax, a lumpiſh Piece of Iron, ſhould ſwim upon
the Surface of the Waters of the River Jordan, and join a Piece of Wood thrown
in after it, in Form of a Handle? Without Doubt both Facts are wonderful, both
Miracles.
I know
Years; and after Robert, no body, that we know of, fays any thing of her for full 200 Years more.
And is not this a very proper Cafe to talk of Witneſſes in, and of uninterrupted Tradition? As to what fol-
lows concerning Miracles, I refer the Reader to the Chapter on that Head, reminding him now only of
theſe few Things: That Miracles are not to be believed, purely upon the Credit of him who relates them,
unleſs he be an inſpired Writer, becauſe all Men are fubject to be deceived themſelves, and may, if they
will, incline to deceive others. Nor are all Miracles to be believed, meerly becaufe God might and could
have wrought them, if he would; nor are all to be believed, becauſe they are of the fame Kind with
thoſe which God hath already wrought in the Scriptures. In a Word, when the Miracles that are faid
to have been wrought by the Saints in their Legends, have as full Authority and as good Proof as thoſe we
find in the Holy Scriptures, then they may be as certainly believed: Nay, when we are as fure that the
Saints lived at fuch a Time, and wrought fuch and fuch Miracles, as we are that Julius Cæfar lived, and
that Jofephus wrote his Hiftory, we will believe the one as furely as the other. But would one think it
poffible for any Man in his Senfes to compare the Certainty of Julius Cæfar's living, and of Jofephus's
writing his Hiſtory, with the Certainty of Wenefrede's and Beuno's Life and Miracles? Surely the Pil-
grims ought not to endure, without Complaint, fo great a Scorn and Infult upon their Underſtanding.
What is it makes it worth theſe Writers while to expoſe the Scriptures and our common Religion by fuch
unequal and ridiculous Comparifons? We have no Diftruft of God's Power to work what Miracles he
pleafes, and at what Time, and in what Manner; we only want Affurance of the Fact, from Writers of
Authority and Credit, whofe Skill, and Honefty, and Judgment, we may with good Reaſon depend upon.
But muſt we prefently believe, that every first of May, as long as Beuno lived, the Virgin came and
brought a curious Veftment wrapped up in Woollen Cloth, and laid it in the midſt of the Well, which was
from thence carried down into the River, and thence into the Dee, and thence into the Irish Seas, and
thence into the Menai, and from thence to Clynog Vaur, where Beuno lived, and received it ſafe and dry,
as if it had been carried in a Ship; which is a Courſe of at leaſt 50 Miles, and has as many Crooks, and
Windings, and perverfe Turnings, as it is poffible for the Sea and Land to make, in ſuch a Compaſs. Muſt
we, I fay, believe this annual Miracle upon the Credit of a Monk or two, delivering the fame 500 Years
after the Fact, becauſe it was not impoffible to God, and becauſe the Scriptures tell us, that Iron ſwam at
the Prophet Elifha's bidding? And yet this is the Reaſoning of this Writer.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE:
621
I know there is a very wide, and, as I may fay, an infinite Diſparity between
Miracles regiſtered in holy Scripture, and thoſe recommended to Pofterity by learned
and unquestionable Authors: But when Facts are fo fully attefted by a Cloud of
Witneffes, and delivered down to us by the univerfal Belief of all Ages, as in the
Cafe before us, of our Saint's being raifed to Life by the Prayers of St. Beuno, and of
the Manner fhe fent Preſents to him afterwards; it would be as unpardonable in a ra-
tional Man to refuſe his Affent, as to deny that there ever was fuch a Perſon in the
World as Julius Cæfar, or that whatever Jofephus the Hiftorian has left written of
the Jewish Wars, was nothing but a meer Fable. Let then the Atheiſts rally, let the
Incredulous mutter; all good Chriftians know, that the Son of God, who neither
can nor will deceive, has made this infallible Promiſe to his Church, That he will be
with her to the End of the World, Mat. xxviii. 20. and that they who believe in him,
ſhall not only do the Works he did, but even greater than thofe fhall they do, John
xiv. 12. Can the Hand of God be fhortened? or, Can his Goodneſs receive any
Diminution? No, no; your Omnipotence, O Lord, is ftill the fame, and of
your
Mercies there is no End.
Whatever this incredulous Age may think of this great Miracle of our Saint's Re-
turn to Life, it appear'd fo evident to the Weft-Britons, and redounded fo much to
the Honour of God's Church, St. Beuno's Sanctity, and the Power he had with his
Creator, that many Pagan People, remaining in thoſe Parts, came to hear the boly
Man's Inftructions in the Catholick Faith, and to receive Baptifm.
St. Wenefride, according to her former Practice, like Mary at the Feet of Chriſt,
fat on a low Seat before him. She was never fatiated with the heavenly Manna,
which fell from his angelical Tongue. She counted as nothing what ſhe had already
done or fuffer'd, and reſtleſs to be more ftrictly united to her beloved Spouſe, ſhe
afpired to the Height of Perfection. Wherefore the moſt humbly begg'd upon her
Knees to be folemnly veil'd, (according to the Cuſtom of the primitive Ages) that by
entring into a religious Courſe of Life, ſhe might put Hell to greater Confufion, which
had fiercely attempted to diſhonour God and herſelf: But moſtly, that ſhe might
pour forth her Soul in the Preſence of her eternal Spouse, with a flaming and difen-
gaged Heart, entirely his; and ſay, Behold I have left all things, and followed thee,
St. Mat. xix. 27.
St. Beuno, with Tears of Joy, complied with this religious Requeſt, and performed
the Ceremony in a numerous Affembly. He knew to what a Degree of Sanctity the
Spirit of God would raiſe her, for his own Glory, and the Improvement of others;
therefore he ſpent whole Days in cultivating her Soul, in what regarded a religious
State. She, as an apt Scholar, took in fo faft the frequent Leffons, and put them in
Practice fo punctually, that it ftruck her Maſter into Admiration. He finding her fo
far advanced in an interior Life, that ſhe was even able to direct and govern others in
the way to Perfection, one Day he called for her Parents, and after the following
Manner delivered unto them his Sentiments and Refolutions.
As you (ſaid he) have moft liberally beſtowed a Church and Houſe for the Service of
God, and for the Help and Benefit of the Faithful, fo his Divine Majesty has more
than fufficiently requited your Charity, by conferring on you ſpiritual Favours, but more
efpecially on your Child, whom, for the Time to come, you may follow as a fafe Guide,
in our bleſſed Redeemer's Service. I am call'd on by Heaven to another Place; and I
leave you
to the Grace and Goodness of God, and to the rare Example of your Daughter.
Then turning to St. Wenefride, he faid, Our Lord, dear Child, has appointed you to
fucceed in my Labours. March on in the Way of Virtue, as I have taught you, and
guide others on the Road to Eternal Life. Gather in this very Place, for your
heavenly Spouse, many pure and devout Virgins; but know withal, that here you ſhall
not end your Days; for after the Term of feven Years, Spent by you in Prayer and Au-
fterities,
4 H
622
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
1
fterities, for your own Merits, and Edification of others, our gracious Lord will fummon
you to another Place, that Strangers may be inftructed by you, and come to the true
Knowledge and Service of him, for whofe Sake you fell a Victim of Purity.'
When the Antients of Ephefus had heard St. Paul declare unto them, that they
fhould fee no more his Face, Acts xx. 25. they fell upon his Neck, and there was great
Weeping. In like Manner, when St. Wenefride was acquainted by her admired
Maſter, that ſhe ſhould not fee him any more in this World, a lawful Grief feem'd
to overwhelm her. To comfort her in ſuch deep Affliction, St. Beuno took her by
the Hand, and led her to the Chryſtalline Fountain, the Place of her Martyrdom;
where they fitting together on a Stone, bearing to this Day the Name of St. Beuno's
Stone, and which lieth now in the outward Well; You fee (faid he) the Monument
here of your Sufferings. Behold alſo the Stones, as tinctur'd with your Blood, which
was fhed for the Glory of your heavenly Spoufe. Be you therefore attentive, and mind-
ful of what I do foretel you, concerning three fpecial Favours, whereby your glorious
Spouſe Jefus Chrift will hereafter honour yourself, and by your Prayers benefit others.
The First is, That theſe bloody Spots ſhall never be waſhed off from the ſaid Stones,
but ever remain, as triumphant Signs of your Blood, fpilt in Defence of
your Cha-
ftity. The Second is, That any Perſon who fhall devoutly ask Temporal Bleffings,
or Freedom from Spiritual or Corporal Diftreffes, to be obtained by your Merits and
Interceffion, the fame fhall compaís his Requeft, if it be to the Honour and Glory of
God, by paying their Devotions three times at this Well. If what he petitions for, be
not for the Advantage of his Soul, and therefore is not granted; at his Death, by
your Prayers, he ſhall reap more ample Fruit, and in the next World everlaſting
Bleffings. The Third, That after my Departure into a more remote Part of this
Ifland, God will give me a Cell near unto the Sea-Shore; ſo that whenever you fend
Letters or Tokens to me, as I intreat you to do at leaſt once every Year, only
caft them into the Stream of this Fountain, and they will come fafe unto me. Which
Wonders will be gloriously divulged of you, to the End of the World.
any
He then conducted her back to the Church; where he added, Behold this Church,
and Buildings round it, which have been rais'd by the Munificence of your Parents;
theſe I leave unto you, to be converted into a Monaftery of chaste and holy Virgins, who
moved by your pious Inftructions and exemplary Life, may put in Practice thofe divine
Leſſons, which I have often delivered unto you; that is, the Contempt of the World, and
an entire Abnegation of themselves: which are the Foundation of religious Perfection.
Strive therefore, dear Child, in all things, to exhibit yourself as a lively Pattern of
Virtue. As to my poor felf, I will go whither the Spirit of God fhall direct me, and
fhall ever retain in my Heart and Soul, a moft fatherly and loving Memory of you.
To experience the racking Effects of a rational Sorrow, is nothing derogatory to
folid Virtue. The Holy of Holies not only groan'd, but wept at the Tomb of Laza-
rus, St. John xi. 35. and he ſhed Tears upon Jerufalem, St. Luke xix. 41. for the fu-
ture Calamities of that obftinate City, which would not know the Time of its Vifita-
tion. The Royal Prophet, a Man according to God's own Heart, upon taking his laſt
Farewel of his beloved Jonathas, they wept together, but David more, 1 Reg. xx. 41.
It muſt not then ſeem ſtrange, that the tender Heart of this doleful Virgin was ready
to ſplit aſunder with Grief, at the laſt Adieu, in this World. The more he attempted
to ſweeten this bitter Separation, his charming Words caufed her fwelling Sorrow to
float higher; infomuch, that when the faw him, with his Staff in his Hand, ready
to depart, ſhe rated the approaching Lofs as the heavieſt Croſs upon Earth; and could
not forbear expreffing thus herſelf unto him; Now, holy Father, I am to be left
alone, as a poor Orphan Child without a Nurfe, or as a filly Sheep amongſt ravenous
Wolves, without a Paftor to defend me. I was always fafe with you, always joyful in
your Prefence, always inftructed by your Exhortations, and edified by your Example.
Thefe
1
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
623
Theſe Words, attended with flowing Tears, fo much opprefs'd St. Beuno's Heart, that
not being able to utter any Anſwer, he bleffed her with his Hand, and haften'd his
Pace in the beginning of his Journey.
Nothing now could comfort her, ſave only the freſh Remembrance of all his pious
Inſtructions, and an earneſt Defire of executing obediently his Commands. Accord-
ingly, in a ſhort Time, fhe affociated to herſelf many noble and devout Virgins, who
obſerved fuch Rules as ſhe eſtabliſh'd for them. She order'd nothing but what
firſt ſhe practifed herſelf; and Miracles were not wanting to increaſe her Au-
thority, and the Opinion of her Sanctity. Their Love and Reſpect towards her,
caufed each of them to contend who fhould be moſt forward in the Imitation of her
rare Perfections. They naufeated fordid Pleaſures, they undervalued Wealth and
Honours, and they ſeemed to be Inhabitants of a Terreſtrial Paradife, in loving and
ferving their heavenly Spouſe, the Son of God. She governed her Subjects with en-
dearing Commands, fo that they obey'd with equal Merit and Content. She eaſed
them in their Difficulties and Temptations, infomuch that they obferving her rigid
Mortification, her angelical Purity, and knowing the ftrict Union fhe had with God
in Prayer, whatever ſhe declared unto them, was received as Oracles from Heaven.
The ſpreading Fame of St. Wenefride was wonderfully dilated by miraculous Cures
of diſeaſed Perſons. They were frequent and apparent, and divulged through other
Parts of Wales. Many flocked from diftant Places to hear her Diſcourſe, and to re-
ceive Inftructions; whom ſhe fent away with flaming Hearts, and ardent Defires to be
faithful and fervent in the Service of their God. They regretted a Return to their re-
ſpective Habitations; and as the Queen of Saba ſtood aſtoniſhed at Solomon's fingular
Wiſdom, ſo theſe admiring Strangers magnified the conftant Happineſs of the Virgins
fhe govern'd, and bleſſed thoſe who always stood before her, 3 Reg. x. 8. they having
fuch a fecure Miſtreſs, and fo tender a Mother.
;
Gratitude for received Favours is not only a moral Virtue, but the eternal Employ
of Cherubins and Seraphims, who are now adoring, and offering never-ending Thanks
to the infinite Goodneſs of their Omnipotent Creator, who commanded them out of
the Chaos of Nothing. St. Wenefride had a moſt grateful Soul; fhe honour'd St. Beuno
as an eminent Servant of God; fhe loved him as a Father; fhe refpected him as a
Maſter; and could never fufficiently acknowledge her Duty to her greateſt Benefactor,
after him who made her. St. Beuno delivered to her the firft Rudiments of Perfection
he incited her to embrace a religious State; he obtained for her by his Prayers a fe-
cond Life, and poliſhed her Interior, that ſhe was amiable in the Sight of God and
Men. To make ſome ſmall Return, ſhe ſent him every Year a Token, after the
Manner he had preſcribed. In the beginning of May, almoſt a Year after his De-
parture, with the Help of her religious Sifters, the finiſhed a curious embroidered
Veſtment, and wrapping the fame in a Woollen Cloth, ſhe went down with her
Religious,
m
1
¹ The Cotton-Life fays this Prefent was fent upon every Eve of St. John Baptiſt; and ſo it might come
to Beuno upon that very Day, on which her own Head, as well as St. John's, was cut off.
m This Editor tranflates Cafula by Veſtment, tho' it properly fignify a Chafuble, which is fomewhat for the
Prieſt's uſe, in celebrating Divine Service: But I incline to think it was rather an ordinary Veſtment, or a
travelling Coat, for daily uſe, becauſe the Cotton-Life fays, that wherever Beuno went with this Cafula, he
was never wet in it, (that Power it ſeems it was indued withal) and from thence was called Beuno Caful-
feck, or Beuno- drycoat. Now I think fo great a Saint as Beuno would never go abroad in any of the
holy Habits, that were proper to the Priest whilft he was officiating; and moreover, the coming of the
Veſtment dry, after ſuch a Voyage, was not fo proper to denominate the Saint Cafulfeck, as its keeping
him dry when he was going about his religious Buſineſs in rainy Weather would be. And tho' this be ad-
ding Miracle to Miracle, yet it is no great matter, when compared with what the Monk Jocelinus tells
us of good St. Kentigern, in the 35th Chapter of his Life, namely, that whenever he went abroad, whe-
ther in Rain, or Hail, or Snow, there was not a Drop that fell upon him, but difcharged itſelf all around,
and left him dry; nay thofe who went along with him did alfo eſcape thefe Inconveniencies, fo favoured
of God was this great Saint. And left the Reader ſhould incline a little to disbelieve this Account, the
Author bids him remember, that the Ifraelites travelled forty Years, and their Raiment waxed not old;
and
624
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDË.
Religious, and others, to the Well Side, and cafting the Bundle into the Water, ſhe
faid, Holy Father, according to your Command, and my Promife, I fend you this fmall
Token of my Love. To the great Aſtoniſhment of numerous Beholders, it paffed
down the Stream into the River, then into the Sea, and it landed near the Monaftery
where St. Beuno then dwelt, many Miles diftant from the holy Fountain.
The holy Man was then walking on the Sea Shore, and wondered what that Bundle
ſhould be; but opening it, he remembred the Charge he had given to St. Wenefride,
and that, as he had foretold, it came miraculouſly to him, without the leaſt Sign of
Wet or Moiſture. This Veftment he preſerved with great Care in the Church, for
the Celebration of holy Mass. He likewiſe received freſher Lights of her preſent and
future Sanctity; how much Almighty God would be honoured by her, not only at
Finhon, but in other Places whither Divine Providence ſhould direct her to go. The
Virgin never intermitted to fend him a yearly Preſent, till his moſt happy Death was
reveal'd unto her, and the glorious Reward he was crowned with in Heaven.
n
This laſt Paffage may appear to incredulous Drolls the moſt furprizing of all others
in the Hiſtory of St. Wenefride's Life; therefore Divine Providence thought fit to au-
thenticate the Memory of it to this very Day, and after this Manner. In Carnarvon-
fhire, eight Miles diſtant from the Town of Carnarvon, there is a little Creek where
the Sea runs up, called in Welsh Porth y Caffeg, (corruptedly, as I could inſtance in
other Appellations) for Porth y Caful, or the Port of the Veftment. Here the firſt
Preſent of our Saint miraculouſly landed; and the Place retains the Name to this
Day. Near unto this Inlet ftands a large Parish Church called Clynnog, in which
St. Beuno was buried, his firſt founded Monaftery being there. His Tomb is yet ex-
tant, and is had in great Veneration by the Inhabitants. The Hiftory of St. Wene-
fride's Life was curiouſly repreſented in the Glaſs Windows of Clynnog Church, but
has been fo defaced, that little now appears. What can be more perfuafive to obtain
Credit to this Miracle, than fo antient and fo certain a Tradition, even to thoſe who
uſe their utmoſt Efforts to deftroy the Memory of Miracles! The Port of the Veft-
ment folves the Objection from the Year 660 to this of 1712. As Apoftolical Tradi-
tion is the unwritten Word of God, and by it we receive the holy Scriptures, and the
facred
and that nothing was impoffible with God; which fhews what excellent uſe the Monks are apt to make
of Scripture Examples. The Cotton-Life fays, this Bundle that was fent to Beuno, was not thrown into
the Well, but laid upon a Stone in the Well; which Stone failed with its Freight, till it came to Beuno's
Cell, and there delivered it dry into his Hands. And why not, fince nothing is impoffible with God,
and fince we are ſure that Iron fwam, and ſure that the Hand of the Lord is not ſhortened? But as fure as
all theſe things are, there is another full as fure as this, that Monks can invent.
"Porthy Caffeg. The Editor is very much exalted, at this lucky Incident, that there is ſtill a Creek
in Carnarvonshire, that is called Porth y Caffeg, which fhould be Porth y Cafful, or the Port of the Veft-
ment; and thinks it a full Proof of the above-told Story of the Veftment's yearly Voyage from Holy-well to
Beuno's Monaftery at Clynog Vawr; and fays that the Port of the Veftment folves the Objection from the
Year 660 to 1712. By this it appears, that he takes three things for granted; 1. That there is fuch a
Creek as Porth y Caffeg; 2. That this is Porth y Cafful; and, 3. That this has been fo called from 660
to 1712, i. e. for 1052 Years. To the First I fay, there is no fuch Name in any of our Maps; nor is
the Place known by that Name to the Inhabitants thereabouts, as I can learn upon Enquiry. There is
fuch a Place in Monmouthshire, called now Parcaffeg, but in the Monafticon 'tis called Porthcaffeg. To
the Second I fay, that Porth y Caffeg is as likely to be the Name as Porth y Cafful, altho' fuch Changes
are very eaſy and natural. But I demurr to the Third Conclufion altogether; for if this filly Story ſhould
be but of the fame Date with Prior Robert's Legend of Wenefrede, yet might the Place where this famous
Veſtment was faid to land every Year, be called, by the poor ignorant common People, Porth y Cafful,
without riſing to ſuch a Height of Time backwards as Beuno's reputed Age is. But after all, there is no
Mention of Port Cafful, or any Port at all by Robert, tho' he be tediouſly particular in defcribing the
fending, failing, and arriving of this Woollen Veffel, with its rich Freight. The Cotton-Life calls it Port-
Sachlem, with Reference, in all Likelihood, to the Sack or Bag, in which this precious Coat was wrap-
ped up, it being obfervable that that Word Sac fignifies the fame thing in abundance of Languages. The
Life of Beuno alfo is defective in this Point, there being no Mention made therein, of the wonderful Con-
veyance of this yearly Prefent. But fince the Editor fays, That the uninterrupted Tradition from Father
to Son, for fo many Centuries, is a clearer Atteftation of Fact, than if it had been recorded in written Hiftory,
it muſt e'en paſs; for I have nothing to fay to things that are to be believed, whether they be written, or
whether they be not written: This folves all Objections indeed.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
625
facred Interpretation and true Senſe of them, as what regards Infant-Baptiſm, &c.
let it be lawful for me to ſay, that as to Human Faith, uninterrupted Tradition from
Father to Son for fo many Centuries, is a clearer Atteftation of Fact, than if it had
been recorded in written Hiſtory.
After St. Beuno's Deceaſe, St. Wenefride began to feel in her Soul clear Illuſtrations
and ſtrong Impulſes for removing from the Monaftery where he was. She had the
Comfort to fee her Religious fo well grounded in Perfection, that her Prefence was
not neceffary; wherefore in the End of the ſeventh Year of her Government, (as the
Saint had foretold her) fhe took leave of her ſpiritual Children, and of her loving
Parents. 'Tis eafily imagin'd, that as the Virgin Martyr was under a ſevere Trial at
the Departure of St. Beuno, whom ſhe call'd her Father; in like manner theſe noble
religious Virgins had heavy Hearts and flowing Eyes, when they underſtood that
their dearest Mother was fully refolv'd to leave them. To compofe and quiet them,
ſhe declar'd that it was the Will of God, and as they had fubmitted unto her, they
ought to fhew undisturbed Obedience to their heavenly Spoufe; that all things ought
to be welcome, coming from his fatherly Hand, and appointed them by infinite
Wiſdom. So, having compleated neceffary Orders, the embraced each of the Siſters,
and choſe one of them for a Companion in her Journey. Before her Departure, ſhe
went down to vifit the Place of her Martyrdom; where falling upon her Knees in
fervent Prayer, fhe humbly befought the Creator of Heaven and Earth to direct her
in this new Pilgrimage, and likewiſe to increaſe his Bleſſings on fuch, who in a de-
vout Manner ſhould vifit that Well, where for his Honour fhe had fuffer'd the Lofs of
her Life. The many Miracles in fubfequent Ages gave clear Teftimony, that her
charitable Petition had the gracious Affent of him, who is the Beſtower of all good
Gifts.
St. Wenefride having recommended to God her Monaftery of Finhon, her Parents,
and her Friends, ° Divine Providence directed her to the Cell of bleffed Deifer, eight
Miles diſtant from the Holy Well. This Reclufe was much in God's Favour; and
Robert, Prior of Shrewsbury, recounts of him feveral evident Miracles, which for
Brevity
• The Editor of this Life grows fomewhat fcrupulous in this Part of the Work, dares not exprefs him-
ſelf ſo freely as he ſhould, nor do that Juftice to the Saint of Bodvarry, that Robert and the Jefuit J. F.
have done. He talks of Providence directing Wenefrede; whereas the original Work fays, That having
paffed the whole Night in Prayer and Watching, fhe heard a Voice from Heaven, that faid diftinctly to
her, Take thee only one Maid for thy Companion, and go to bleffed Deifer, who lives in a Place that
• is called Bodvarry, and he ſhall tell thee what thou art to do, and whither thou muſt go: For the Man
was great in the Sight of God, and walked in all the Commandments and Ordinances of the Lord
blamelefs; and of him it is faid, that he was mighty in working Miracles, and that among the reft,
he caufed a Well to rife out of the Earth, and ftretching out his Hands over it, he prayed to God,
that whatever fick Perfon fhould wash therein, he might return home fafe and found; which many
• People have experienced to their great Comfort, and had their Healths reſtored by it.
C
C
I confefs, that when I read Monkiſh Relations, I am evermore fufpicious of the Deifer's and the
Deïcola's; but in this Relation I take him for as true a Saint as Wenefrede herſelf, and know not why
his Story ſhould be fmothered, or his Well neglected. I will not however trouble the Reader with the
Miracles faid by Robert to be done by him, but obferve, that altho' Wenefrede was infpired by God to go
to Deifer, yet when the came thither, he knew nothing of the Matter; but told her that he would that
Night confult with God, by Prayer, who might perchance reveal that Matter to him: And fo it came to
pafs, for towards the Morning, a Voice from Heaven directed him to tell the bleſſed Virgin, that ſhe
muſt needs repair to Henllan, where one Saturnus fhould inform her what fhe was to do, and to what far-
ther Place fhe was to go. Saturnus was, it ſeems, better provided for her Reception, and having been
inſtructed of God before-hand, told her (but not before they had paffed the whole Night in Prayer and
holy Conferences) that fhe muft next refort to one Elerius, who was a holy Man, and lived at a Place cal-
led Gwitheryn, where fhe fhould be inftructed fully in the Will of God. What excellent Work is here,
for Infpiration, and Divine Impulfes! Warned of God to go from Holy-well to Bodvarry! warned of God
to go from thence to Henllan! warned of God to go from Henllan to Guitherine! a Courſe, as I gueſs,
of about 16 Miles in Compafs. Wenefrede infpired to go to Deïfer; Deifer, at length, infpired to fend
her to Saturnus; and good Saturnus infpired to fend her forwards to Elerius; and Elerius, at laft, infpired
to tell her ſhe muſt be firſt a Nun, and then, in God's good Time, an Abbefs at Guitherine! I do not fo
much as difpute whether Deifer, Saturnus, and Elerius, be right old Britiſh Names or not, but ſtand
amazed that Pilgrims fhould be taught to think that the bleffed Spirit is thus employed.
4 I
6 zÒ
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
Brevity are here omitted, becauſe my fole Intention is to fet forth the Merits of our
glorious Patronefs of Wales. The holy Man told her, that God had not made any
thing known unto him as to her Journey; but have Patience (faid he) this Night,
and I will inquire after his bleffed Pleafure. St. Deifer ſpending the Night in Prayer,
according to his Cuſtom, heard a Voice towards Morning, which faid, Tell
my dear
Virgin Daughter Wenefride, that ſhe repair forthwith to the Village Henthlant, where
the venerable Saturnus will fully inftruct her as to the Place of her Abode during Life.
Deifer acquainted her with his Commiffion, and likewiſe affur'd her, that this holy
Neighbour (fo he call'd him) would be enabled from Heaven not only to fatisfy her
where to fix, but likewife he would inform her of other things relating to herſelf.
After that, he directed her in the Way to St. Saturnus.
It pleafed Almighty God to honour the Virgin's Progrefs by revealing the fame to
feveral Saints, and the Occafion of her Journey. Amongst the reft was St. Saturnus,
who gave her a charitable Reception at Hentblant. Great Part of that Night they
ſpent together in Prayer and holy Conferences; and to her great Confolation he enter-
tained her with many ſpiritual Lectures. He acquainted her in the Morning, that there
was a Place not far off, call'd Witheriac, (now vulgarly Guitherin) which was en-
riched with precious Reliques of many glorious Saints, who had lived and died there;
and on this Account it was highly reverenced by devout People. This Place (faid he)
is appointed you by Divine Providence for your Temporal Sojourning upon Earth: You'll
find there a holy Abbot, by Name Elerius, who is of fo great Mortification, and of fo great
Union with God in Prayer, that he is entirely dead to the World. I am ordered to fend
you to this Man, and farther to let you know, that you'll experience under his Conduct a
Celestial Tranquillity of Mind. You'll likewife find there a Monaftery of chafte Virgins,
who have been train'd up from their very Infancy in folid Virtue. You are deftin'd by
Heaven to improve them more in Perfection by your Example and Inftructions. In
Process of Time thefe Religious will fubmit themſelves unto you, as to a Mother and
Abbefs, who is fent providentially unto them by their heavenly Spouſe.
St. Wenefride was tranfported with Joy, hearing this agreeable Relation of her Hap-
pineſs ſo near at hand. She moſt humbly begged his Bleffing and Directions how to
finiſh her Journey. The holy Man, out of Refpect and Reverence, accompanied
her himſelf part of the Way. At parting he gave her his Bleffing, and ordered his
Deacon to conduct her to St. Elerius. 'Twas no fmall Comfort to her that ſhe was
travelling towards a Monaftery of pure Virgins, and there to enjoy their Angelical Con-
verfation.
Guitherin is now a Village, whatever it was in former Times, in Denbighshire, near
the River Ciuide, which feparates this County from that of Flint. St. Elerius had
here his Monaftery in a Vale call'd Vallis Clutina, where feveral Religious Perfons of
both Sexes embraced his Inftitute, and followed his Example.
The holy Abbot had a Revelation of her Coming, and of her diſtinguiſhing Merits;
therefore to honour her, he met her at fome Diſtance, and led her to the Church.
After they had pray'd a while together, he took her afide from the Deacon and her
Companion, telling her, that he was no Stranger to that heroical Act of ſuffering a
violent Death to preſerve her Virginity; that the miraculous Fountain was an evident
Teſtimony of it; and that he would chearfully affift her in the Defigns of his Divine
Majesty intended by this her Journey. The Virgin reply'd, That as to herſelf, ſhe had
only this to offer, That as she had been guided by God's holy Spirit to find him out, fo in
the future Course of her Life ſhe would be an obedient Child in hearing and obferving his
Directions.
The holy Abbot was extreamly edify'd at this humble and modeſt Anſwer. He
told her, That if fhe pleaſed, they would fpend that Night in Prayer, for greater
Security in this important Affair. This they did; and he having received clearer
Lights from Heaven, was repleniſh'd with incredible Joy, and told her in the Morn-
ing,
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
627
ing, That Almighty God would not be wanting to increaſe his Fatherly Love towards
her. Without faying more, he led her out of the Church to the Monaftery which
was under his Government, and he spoke thus to the Religious Virgins.
Rejoice, dear Children of God, for that it hath pleafed your Heavenly Spoufe to fend a
New Star of wonderful Brightneſs to ſhine amongst you. He has provided you fuch a
Companion as will enrich your Souls with the Treasure of Religious Perfection, by the
Pattern fhe'll fet before you. This is the renowned Virgin Wenefride, who, as you have
heard, fuffered a glorious Death in Defence of her Chastity. This is fhe whofe Triumphs
are recounted in Churches, and whofe Trophies illuftrate the Province where he lived.
Rejoice therefore, because she is come to remain and end her Days amongst you. Happy
is her Arrival! Preferve carefully this inestimable Treafure. Mark and imitate the
Example fhe'll fhew you, and give Attention to the fpiritual Documents fhe'll deliver, be-
caufe for this Chriſt has fent her. Having uttered this Speech to the Religious in gene-
ral, he addreſs'd the venerable Abbess Theonia with theſe few Words: To you, dear Mo-
ther, after a more special manner I recommend a respectful Entertainment of this facred
Spoufe of Chriſt, who by directing her hither has fignally regarded and regaled your Fa-
mily. After this he withdrew, leaving St. Wenefride amongſt them bluſhing, and as
it were finking under the Burthen of her own Praiſes.
Not only Abbess Theonia, P who was a very holy Woman, but St. Elerius alfo
held frequently private Conferences with St. Wenefride; and difcourfing of heavenly
Myſteries and virtuous Practices, they difcovered her to be fo clearly illuminated in
the firft, and fo folidly grounded in the fecond, that both of them admired the rich
Treafury of her Soul. When the Abbot return'd to his Monks, who lived not far off
in auftere Diſcipline, 'twas his Cuſtom to magnify the Merits of this Stranger, and
feem'd not able to expreſs what was due unto her.
At length the Fame of her Sanctity was fo much divulged, that numerous Crowds
of all Callings flocked to Guitherin to behold a noble couragious Creature, who to ſe-
cure her Virginity had ſuffered the Loſs of her Head, and who after Death, to the
greater Glory of her Spouse, by a holy Man's Prayer, had returned to Life. They
importuned her to fhew the pure white Circle round her Neck, which ſhe induſtriouſly
declined, till at the Requeſt of her Sifters the yielded to their pious Defire, left ſhe
ſhould ſeem to affect Humility. The glorious Scar forced Tears of Compunction from
their Eyes, by reflecting how heroically and with what Fortitude ſhe received the mortal
Wound from the Sword of cruel Cradocus, rather than once to offend her God; and
how often they had ſhewed their Weakneſs in complying with the firſt Suggeſtions of
the Infernal Enemy, and ſhameful Propofals of a wicked Companion.
St. Elerius going one Day to the Monaſtery to viſit the living Martyr, and to con-
fer with her in fpiritual Matters, they entered occaſionally on the Subject of the Hap-
piness of dying well. He told her, That he often took Complacency in the Thoughts
of having her near him when he lay on his Death-Bed, and that after his Departure
her Prayers would afford him Relief for the Repoſe of his Soul. No, Father, (ſaid ſhe
Prophetically) Chrift hath appointed otherwife. You shall live to bury our dear Mother
Theonia, and a few Years after to bury me: Then fome Time being expired, yourself fhall
pass from this tranfitory World, and go to Him, of whofe Kingdom there is no End. All
this came to pafs as the Saint foretold.
Soon after this Prediction, Theonia was vifited with her final Sickneſs, and finding
herſelf near her End, the received from Elerius's Hands the Bleffed Sacrament, as her
Viaticum to conduct her fafely towards Heaven. The Religious were on their Knees
round her Bed, lamenting bitterly the forefeen Lofs, whom fhe comforted after this
manner :
P The Editor conceals from his devout Pilgrims, that the Abbefs Theonia (another Welch Name to be
fure) was the true and natural Mother of Elerius (as Robert affirms more than once) not out of Reſpect,
I fear, to undefiled Marriage.
1
628
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
manner Children! Tears are not to flow for Friends, or for ourselves, unless fome Evil
hath happened, or Misfortune. Our prefent Cafe hath no fuch Countenance: As to my-
felf, I am baftening to my Heavenly Spouse, (as I hope) who calls me to Him. As to
you, Bleſſed Wenefride, a more holy Mother, will fucceed me, who by Words and Works
will improve you in Perfection. Follow her Steps, and you will not wander nor go aftray.
Then being ſpent, ſhe breathed out her pure and precious Soul. Her Obfequies being
folemnly and chriftianly performed by St. Elerius, he appointed St. Wenefride Abbefs,
to govern the Monaftery. Her profound Humility diffuaded her from undertaking
the Charge, but the Obedience ſhe had promiſed the holy Abbot, and the repeated
Petitions of the Sifters, notwithſtanding natural Reluctancy, wrought her at laft into
Compliance.
The nice Art of governing many, whofe Genius's and Conftitutions are as differing
as the Features of their Faces, is attended with fuch vaft Difficulties, that Solomon
being favoured and honoured by the Almighty with that unlimited Offer, Ask what
thou wilt, that I may give it thee, 3 Reg. iii. 5. the confidering King petitioned for
what was moſt neceffary to rule the numerous Ifraelites; he defired not Riches or
Glory, but Wiſdom, a docible Heart. St. Wenefride was naturally prudent, and her
Spouſe beſtowed upon her a more than ordinary Talent of Governing; ſo that wiſh'd-
for Succeſs anſwered Expectation. He bleffed that Head with fupernatural Wiſdom,
which had been facrificed to his Honour. She made ufe of the fame Maxims and
Methods at Guitherin, as before ſhe had done at Finbon. Her Commands were inti-
mated with fuch Affability and Difcretion, that they appeared to her Subjects fo
many Intreaties. She went conftantly before the reft in the most painful Duties of
the Monaftery; and although the Dignity of her Office required due Diſtance, fhe
not only converfed with her Sifters as with Equals, but alfo look'd
herſelf as
the leaſt deſerving in the whole Community. She had the true Spirit of Poverty, and
was fo much averfe to Superfluities, that he would fcarce admit of Neceffaries. She
was moſt rigid in Abftinence, and Patience had taken fuch abfolute Poffeffion of her
Heart, that not the leaft Entrance was allowed to Anger and other inordinate Paffions.
Her Prayer was continual, when not interrupted by Duties of Charity and neceffary
Sleep. She was frequently favoured with Raptures and Extafies. She never dropped
any Word tending to her own Commendation, and was fenfibly afflicted when others
mentioned any thing in her Praiſe.
upon
The Bleffed Martyr inculcated daily to her Sifters to have always before their Eyes
the grand Example of their dear Redeemer, and to copy out fuch Virtues as he exer-
cifed, to inftruct as well as to fave them: That they ought to ſtudy a pure Intention
in all their Actions, to ferve God for his own fake. She earneftly recommended For-
titude and Perſeverance, as ftrong Armour to overcome all Sorts of Temptations:
That they ought not to be diſmay'd in theſe fpiritual Conflicts, for by the Conqueſt
they would obtain the Crown. Prayer (fhe faid) when well performed, did dilate
their Souls, and prepared an Entrance to Divine Grace, which enabled them to un-
dertake noble Actions for their God. "Tis needleſs to mention her Angelical Purity;
the flowing Fountain ſeems to denote, that ſhe would have parted with Streams of
Blood, rather than to have confented to one fingle Thought to the Prejudice of her
confecrated Virginity.
It was obferved, that when ſhe exhorted her Religious, a Depth of Heavenly
Wiſdom appeared in her Words, which inflamed her Hearers with the Love of Jefus.
She was favoured with a ſpecial Gift of diſcovering Temptations, and of applying
proper Remedies to defeat the Enemy. Not only the Laity, but even Religious Men
and Prelates, found great Advantage by conferring with her. Many reforted to
Guitherin from all Parts of the Province. What is yet more, notorious Thieves and
inveterate
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDË.
629
inveterate Malefactors were reclaimed from their evil Courſes by her powerful Advice
and irrefiftible Remonftrances.
Almighty GOD was pleaſed to declare by Signs and Miracles how much St. Wene
fride was in his Divine Favour. Scarce any Day paffed, wherein, by ſudden Cures
of deſperate Diftempers, ſhe did not comfort drooping and defponding Patients:
Her Monaſtery reſembled a common Refuge of the Diftreffed, and ſhe was like a
tender Mother to the Unfortunate. Her heroical Virtues were the univerfal Subject
of Diſcourſe in private Families, and the Fame of her Miracles was heard from the
Pulpits in Churches. St. Elerius, who was beft acquainted with her Merits, declared
openly, That Providence had directed her to Guitḥerin, to honour and benefit them
all: But from human Applaufe, which was abhorr'd by her to the laſt Degree, ſhe
was invited by a Revelation to the immortal Glory of Angels.
The Saint being thus forewarned of her long wiſhed-for Departure, the welcome
News, for whole Days and Nights, threw her into Extafies of Joy. She had made
it her Study to forget, as much as poffible, what ſhe had done or fuffered for her
dear Lord; and therefore, as one who is to undertake a long Journey, fhe made
neceffary Proviſions, as if nothing had been performed during the Courſe of her holy
Life. She redoubled her Fafts and other Aufterities; fhe fatigued herſelf in the pain-
ful Exerciſes of continual Charity towards her Sifters and others. Notwithſtanding
her Angelical Interior, and the uninterrupted Union with her Divine Spouſe, the vili-
fied herſelf as one not worthy of his Prefence. That ſhe might not furprize the
Community, by her leaving them in a ſhort Sickneſs, ſhe imparted firſt to St. Ele-
rius the Summons ſhe had received from her Redeemer, and the fame afterwards to
her dear Sifters, whofe Sorrow was little inferior to thoſe Tranſports of Jubilee the
was abforped in, by the certain Affurance of paffing ſpeedily to her Lord and Maſter.
They wept, they mourned, but ſhe thus comforted them.
Weep not, dear Children, but conform your Wills to your Creator's Pleafure. Doubt
not but that in Heaven (whither through the Mercies of God I am going) I fhall be
more ferviceable to you by my Prayers, than here on Earth by my Prefence. For that
Land of Promife is not a Place of Ignorance, but of clear Knowledge, where the Bleed
understand the Wants of their Friends on Earth; and they being united in the Fountain-
Head of infinite Charity, they are powerful and ready to procure Speedy Helps to fuc-
cour them. This I promife to do for you, my dear Children, after that Chrift fhall
have taken me into his Kingdom. You must not be contriftated like those who have no
Hope. To wicked Worldlings, who by their finful Lives dread the Sight of a terrible
Judge, Death appears like a cruel Executioner, to drag them to a formidable Tribunal;
but to innocent and holy Souls Death is entertained as a welcome Guest; he finds them
ready to embrace him with Joy: They are like to Men expecting their Lord when he
returns from the Marriage, St. Luke xii. 36. and are ready to go with him, as through
God's Mercy, I hope that I am prepared at prefent for the heavenly Journey, to enter
into the Joys of my Lord.
Her concluding Sickneſs took its beginning from frequent and violent Convulfions,
which ſhe endured with unparallell'd Patience. The lively Hopes of feeing her hea-
venly Spouſe ſweeten'd all her acute Pains; yet knowing that the crafty Tempter is
more furious in the decifive Conflict, fhe earneſtly and often befought our Lord, that
he would not permit the infernal Enemy to be frightful unto her in her last Agony.
She exhorted all who came to vifit her, to make early Preparations againſt that dread-
ful Hour, on which depended eternal Happineſs, or never-ending Mifery.
In
a Robert fays, that Elerius heard of it only by Report and Chance, after fhe had acquainted her Nuns
with it, and comforted them concerning it: But the Editor, having made Elerius to be her Confeſſor,
durft not venture her telling any thing of Importance to any one before ſhe had acquainted him with it;
which is of good Uſe for thoſe who trade in fuch Wares, and a right Intimation to devout Pilgrims.
4 K
630
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
In the beginning of November, finding her Strength exhaufted, and that her Diffo-
lution was near at hand, the called for the Saint her Confeffor, and was by him
fortified with the Holy Sacrament of the Church. Beholding the Religious in Tears
upon their Knees, the faid, Dear Children, rather congratulate with me, than grieve
fo much at my approaching Happiness. I hope ere long to enjoy him in Heaven whom
I have ardently loved upon Earth. Preferve inviolably the Promife you have made him :
Undervalue the baſe and fordid Pleaſures of this tranfitory World; reflect that your
Bodies, although beautiful and in their Prime, are no other than loathfome Prifons,
which detain your immortal Souls in clofe Confinement. Take great beed not to defile
them, and never forget this important Leſſon, that the heavenly Comfort and Joy which
pure Souls experience on their Death-Bed, recompences abundantly all worldly Riches,
Pleafures, and Honours which they have defpifed and abandoned for the Service and
Love of Jefus Chriſt.
The Saint, as it were, knowing the very Minute of her Departure, took her laft
Leave and Bleffing of holy Elerius, hoping that they would meet foon in Heaven;
without any Fear of a future Separation. She humbly requeſted that her Body might
be buried near unto Theonia's, her holy Mother; then in a pure Act of intenfe Love of
God, on the 3d of November, ſhe breathed out her thrice happy Soul into her bleſſed
Redeemer's Hands.
Elerius obſerving that ſhe had expired, as the Religious alfo did, who were kneeling
near her Bed, the many deep Sighs publiſhed their Lofs. The holy Abbot found
himſelf obliged to fupprefs his own Grief, that he might more effectually comfort them,
by declaring that ſhe was only removed to Heaven before them, and that they ought
to prepare to follow after her: That ſhe was united glorioufly to her God, and by her
Prayers would powerfully affift them. Her Body was very little alter'd in the Come-
lineſs of it by her Death; and as ſhe had defir'd, it was folemnly interr'd near Theo-
nia's, and many other Saints buried before her in that Place: Amongſt the reſt were
Cheb and Sennan,' the one lying at her Head, and the other by her Side. Both theſe
were renowned for Sanctity and Miracles, and had Churches rais'd to their Memories.
Yet altho' theſe two, and many other Saints Bodies, which had been committed to
that holy Ground, drew thither devout People; yet the Place was moſtly reverenced
and honoured for St. Wenefride's Sepulchre, which was afterwards favoured by a Train
of evident Miracles. Not long after St. Elerius, by a happy Death, finiſhed his Courſe,
and went to receive the eternal Reward of his Apoftolical Labours. His Body was
interred in a Church erected to his Name and Memory, where it pleaſed Almighty
God to work miraculous Cures, in Teſtimony of his Sanctity on Earth, and Power
by his Prayers in Heaven.
The Omnipotent, who has affured Mortals by his Divine Promiſe, that those who
glorify him, he will glorify them, 1 Reg. ii. 30. moſt eminently fulfilled the fame in
St. Wenefride, both living and dead. She glorified her Creator in her tender Years,
by confecrating unto him her unfpotted Virginity. She glorified Him like St. Aga-
tha and St. Agnes, with the chearful Offering of her Head, to preferve untainted Fi-
delity to her Heavenly Spouſe. She glorified Him, by withdrawing noble Virgins
from the prevaricating World, and raiſing their Souls to the pure Love of God, in-
ſtructing them in the true Spirit of Humility and Mortification. In fine, fhe glori-
fied Him through the whole Courſe of her Life, in all Points of religious Perfection,
not only relating to her Subjects, but even the Laity. On the other hand, the Al-
mighty
'Tis an unreaſonable Thing for a Monk to fow any one Church-yard fo thick with Saints, as Robert
has done that of Guitherin, unleſs he intends to remove them in due time. Keby was thought to have been
buried in Angleſey, and Senan in Ireland, where he was Biſhop, by the fame Token that he died the very
fame Day with St. David in 544. But this Thief of a Monk hath brought them both to a Place where
he could come more eaſily at them, to pacify the People of the Pariſh better for the Lofs of Wenefrede, fince
they had ſo many Saints Bodies ftill left with them.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
mighty has glorified her down to the preſent Age, from the Year 660. According
to St. Beuno's Prediction, there has been no Ceffation of Miracles, teſtifying her fig-
nal Sanctity, and how dear her precious Soul is to her Maker. 'Tis true, this humble
Virgin was accuſtomed to bluſh and to ſhed Tears at the firft Sound of her Praiſes,
and therefore defired and obtained that ſhe might abſent herſelf from Finhon, to live
in Obſcurity (as ſhe refolved) out of the frothy Noiſe of Acclamations, which ſhe
could not avoid at the Place of her Martyrdom. This was her pious Contrivance, but
the Deſign of Heaven was to glorify her at Guitherin. As God commanded a Torrent
to flow on that dry Valley, where her bloody Head touched firſt the Ground; fo
at her Sepulchre he did not reject or refuſe any Petition made by her devoted Suppli-
cants.
S
The Hiſtorians of her Life, St. Elerius and Salopienfis, concluded that it would
be an Undertaking to fwell Volumes, if they regiſter'd all Wonders done at her Shrine
and Fountain: They thought it ſufficient to acquaint the Reader, that the Blind, Le-
pers, and other diſeaſed Perfons, were perfectly cured by drinking the Water, or bathing
themſelves in the Holy Well. This became fo famous, that tender Mothers made no
Difficulty of cafting their fickly Children into the Stream, which was a fpeedy Cure.
Such as lived at a great Diſtance, and were tormented with Agues, and hot burning
Fevers, cauſed the Water to be brought to them, and drank of it as a certain Remedy
to relieve them in their Maladies. Thoſe in very remote Places uſed to put one of
the little bloody Stones which was taken out of the Well, into other Spring-Water, and
they were cured. 'Tis faid, that the Virgin Martyr herſelf preſcribed the firſt Uſe of
this laſt Remedy, who foon after her Second Death appearing to many, who in dan-
gerous Distempers devoutly called upon her, fhe directed them, for their fpeedy
Recovery, to apply the Water and Stones of the Well in the aforefaid manner. Such
as had Swellings or old Sores bathed the Part affected, and they found prefent Re-
lief.
At this wonderful Spring almoſt daily Miracles were wrought, according to a
Petition ſhe made to God before ſhe left Finbon, That he would vouchfafe to bleſs
corporally, and fanctify fpiritually, all thoſe who in future Ages fhould devoutly
vifit her Fountain, and there acknowledge the many Benefits with which he had fa-
voured her. Frequent Miracles were likewiſe wrought at her Tomb. Multitudes of
difeafed
any
s I think it fit to tell the Reader again, that Elerius never wrote one Line in his Life about Wenefrede that
one knows of. Robert of Salop, that ought to have known, (and would have told us if he had) fays not one
Word about him as to this Point: And the Editor might as honeftly have faid, that he himſelf had tranf-
lated Elerius's Life, as fay, that Elerius was her Hiftorian. Robert does indeed fay, that the Number
of Miracles wrought at her Shrine and Fountain was exceedingly great. The Anonymous Writer of her
Life (which I have called the Cotton-Life) makes all her Miracles to have been wrought at her Fountain,
and not one at Guitherin, where he leaves her buried. But the Obfervation I would make, both to the
Pilgrim and the Proteftant Reader, upon this Head, is, That whatever Bleffings God beftows up-
on People that pray in Places where there is no famous Saint worſhipped and called upon, he be-
ftows them for his own Goodneſs fake, and for his Mercy's fake in Jefus Chrift, and in Compaffion
to his needy Creatures: But that whatever Bleffing he beſtows in Places where fome famous Saint is wor-
ſhipped and called upon, there they are all, it feems, beftowed upon the Interceffion and for the Merits of
that Saint, if they be fo prayed for and asked; and I believe it will not be denied, that not one Papiſt in
a thouſand does ever ask of God any great Bleffing, but for the Merits, Sake, and by the Interceffion of
fome one or more Saints. Hence therefore it muſt needs be, that the Bleffings which Papifts receive at
God's Hands muſt be generally accounted miraculous, and thoſe the Proteftants receive, mere Mercies and
common Bleffings. This is the Spring of Superſtition, this the Food and Nouriſhment of Saint-Worſhip.
But I defire the ſerious underſtanding Papift to confider and inquire, and then compute as well as he can,
whether the Proteftants or Papiſts of this Kingdom (in Proportion to each other's Number) receive more
or greater Bleffings, more Deliverances from Sickneffes, or Pains, or Dangers from abroad, or fad Accidents
at home. 'Tis certain that they pray alike for all the Good they think they want, and deprecate alike the
Evil which they fear: But it is as certain, that the Proteftant asks what he asks, and deprecates what he
fears, through the Mediation, and by the Interceffion, and for the Merits fake of Chrift only, without any
Mention of any Saint or Angel, or the Virgin Mary, all which, or one at leaſt, are called upon and in-
tereffed in every Papiſt's Prayer, tho' Chrift be not excluded. If therefore the Proteftants receive as many
Mercies and Bleffings, ordinary and extraordinary, at Holy-well (for Inftance) as the Papifts do, how is a
Papiſt ſatisfied that any thing is granted him for the Sake of St. Wenefrede, or through her Interceffion?
632
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
diſeaſed Perfons became perfectly cured by praying and kiffing the Earth, where the
facred Remainder of her was depofited.
The holy Author of St. Wenefride's Life and Death, was not fatisfied with a gene-
ral Relation of miraculous Cures; he defcends to Particulars, that unbelieving Po-
ſterity might be induced to allow Credit to what he had recorded, as to daily Wonders.
I touch two or three with Brevity. From the beginning of the World it hath not been
heard, that any Man opened the Eyes of one born blind, unless this Man were of God,
St. John ix. 32. This declared the Omnipotence of the long expected Meffias; and
the like Favour foon after our Saint's Death, gave Wing to the Fame of her San-
ctity and Power in Heaven, and ſpread the fame through the Western Provinces of
Britain. A poor Carpenter, dwelling not far from St. Wenefride's Well, had a
Daughter born blind. She growing up, and groaning under that temporal Misfor-
tune, hearing the Report of many miraculous Cures wrought at that Fountain, ſhe
importuned her Father daily to be handed thither. This was granted, and being
come to the Place, ſhe bathed her Head in the Water, and was afterwards conducted
to the Chapel, near unto the Well. She ſpent that whole Night in Prayer, befeeching
God, through the Merits and Interceffion of St. Wenefride, who was martyred for his
Love, to beſtow upon her corporal Sight, to the end ſhe might ſerve him better, and
be an Eye-witness of the Wonders wrought in that Place. Towards Morning ſhe fell
into a Slumber, and when the opened her Eye-lids, ſhe found herſelf bleſs'd with per-
fect Sight. This being fo notorious and publick, begat freſh Veneration to the
Holy Well, and was divulged far and near, to his Honour who is glorified in his
Saints.
t
The Saint's Privilege was not confined to her Well and Chapel, the adjacent Pla-
ces were a fort of Sanctuary under her Protection; witness what happened to fome
Thieves, who ſtole a Cow out of a Paſture near unto St. Wenefride's Chapel. The
Robbers forced her over rocky Ways, that they might not be traced, but it happened
otherwiſe; for the Cow fixed not one Step without leaving a deep Impreffion in the
Stones, as if ſhe had been paffing through foft Clay. The Footſteps alſo of the Thieves
ſo viſibly appeared, that the Owner next Morning miffing his Beaſt, he and his Neigh-
bours followed after by the miraculous Track. The Robbers perceiving them near
at hand, made the beſt of their Way to eſcape, and left the Booty to whom it be-
longed. They afterwards obferved at leiſure how the Cow had left the clear Prints
of her Feet as ſhe was carried off, but not the leaft Impreffion after ſhe was retrieved
and returned homewards. Great Crowds of People flocked to behold the faid Prints
in the Stones, and publiſhed the Miracle. The Thieves themſelves, apprehending
leſt ſome ſevere Judgment ſhould befal them to terrify others, came penitently to the
Martyr's Altar: They confefs'd their Sin, and warned all not to commit the like Tref
paſs.
Behold a following Example yet more terrifying. A Meffenger being diſpatched
by a chief Lord of that Country, to give his Neighbours timely Notice of fome ap-
proaching Danger from the bordering Saxons (who continually carried on War againſt
them) was way-laid by Thieves, and purſued to St. Wenefride's Church, whither he
fled as to a ſafe Sanctuary. The Express faften'd his Horſe near unto the Door, which
they took away, not prefuming to purfue him to the Altar, where he ftood for Refuge.
After their Departure the Meffenger came forth, and finding that the Horfe was car-
ried off, he returned into the Church, and, proftrate, made a pious Complaint be-
fore
I confefs, I thought the Editor would not have given us this Miracle, it is fo notable a one; but fince
he has been ſo fair, I cannot chuſe but thank him for his Ingenuity, and will not find any Fault with him
for not expreffing how deep the Impreffion was that the Cow's Feet made in the Rocks every Step fhe
took, which Robert ſays was up to the Knees; which confidering how hard the Welch Rocks are, is very
deep indeed; but what of that? Know we not who it is that clave the hard Rocks afunder? Is any thing
too hard for God?
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
633
1
fore the Saint's Altar, That he indeed had ſuſtained a confiderable Lofs, but it was
ſhe who was highly injured: That the Authors of the Crime deferved exemplary
Puniſhment, to the end others might be deterr'd from violating the Safety of her
Sanctuary, and the Reverence due unto it. His Remonftrance was accepted of by
Divine Juftice; for the Thief, who had untied the Horfe, and had him in actual Pof-
feffion, was ſuddenly feized all over his Body with fuch Extremity of Pains, that he
often called on Death to deliver him from the Torture. After a few Days, his
Right Arm, (which was the Inftrument of his Sin) began to fwell, then to putrify
and rot in a loathſome manner. This Tribulation gave Underſtanding to him, who
had neglected Confcience in time of Health. Wherefore he came to her Church,
and begged, with many Tears, the Saint's Pardon for his Infolence, and the Wrong he
had done her. He became a true Penitent, and this Humiliation fo much deſerved
her Favour, that by Degrees he was cured of his painful Ulcer. He praiſed God for
his Mercy, and St. Wenefride for her Compaffion, preaching to others not to offend
againſt the Sanctity of the Place, nor to give Difturbance to the Saint's Clients, who
in Diftreffes run unto her for Succour.
Take another Inftance in a Paffage which may feem of lefs Moment. A Labourer
prefumed to cut off for his own Ufe a Bough from an old Oak growing near unto
Guitherin Church-Door, which afforded a convenient Shade to devout Pilgrims,
when the Concourſe was ſo great that they were forced to remain without, and to
pray under it. No fooner had he ſtruck his Hatchet into the Bough, than it was
immoveably fixed there; and as Jeroboam's Hand withered, which he had ſtretched
forth to order the Apprehenfion of the Man of God, that he was not able to draw it
back, 3 Reg. xiii. 4. fo this poor Man's Hand and Arm cleaved ſo faſt to the Handle
of the Ax, that with all his Strength he was not able to feparate them. He at-
tempted often in vain to let go his Hold, and finding himſelf in that furprizing
Diſtreſs, he cried out for Help and Affiftance. Some Perfons hard by heard his
mournful Voice, and ran to the Place, admiring at the Wonder. They exhorted him
to repent, and to beg the Saint's Pardon and Prayers, which he did, and at the fame
time they all cried out, Holy Wenefride, take Pity on him! At thefe Words his
Hand and Arm were ſet at Liberty, and were reſtored to their former Freedom. The
Cut in the Branch was fhewed to Robert, Prior of Shrewsbury, when he came to
tranſlate her facred Reliques, of which I am going to give an Account, with the Oc-
cafion of the Removal.
X
In the Reign of King William the Conqueror, a chief Earl of his Court, called
Roger, built a ſumptuous Monaftery in Shrewsbury, to the Glory of God, and the
Benefit of that City, endowing the fame with fufficient Revenues. An Abbot and his
Monks being therein ſettled, they began to lament the Want of holy Reliques in
their new Church, which Wales was ſtored with moſt abundantly, by reaſon that
many eminent Saints of both Sexes had formerly flouriſhed in thoſe Parts, renowned
for Sanctity and the Grace of Miracles. Hereupon they began to confider and con-
fult what Saint's Body might be obtained by them, to bring a Bleffing upon the
Religious Family. During this Deliberation, a Monk of their Monaftery fell danger-
ouſly fick, and moreover was fo diftracted in Mind, that his Brethren, both in
Shrewsbury and Chefter, ceafed not to recommend to Almighty God his Recovery.
One Day, when the virtuous Sub-Prior of Cheſter-Abbey had ended his Prayer for
the miſerable Creature, he dropp'd into an unuſual Sleep, to whom a Woman ap-
peared in glorious Attire, and faid, If you defire the fick Man's Health, let one of you
80
* So far from ſumptuous, that Ordericus Vitalis fays it was but meanly endowed; and W. Malmesbury,
fpeaking of the Founder, fays, ibi Monachos locavit ex Sagio (Says in Normandy) angufto vietu & amictu;
and Robert is as modeft alfo. In After-times it was fumptuous enough.
4 L
634
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
go and offer for him a Mafs in the Chapel near unto St. Wenefride's Well, and he will
preſently recover: After which ſhe vaniſhed out of his Sight.
The Sub-Prior Radulphus (that was his Name) awaked in great Amazement, but
was backward in faying one Word of the Vifion, fearing that it would not find any
Credit. But when he heard that his Brother's Diftemper grew more defperate,
Charity obliged him to declare what he had feen. All the Religious were of Opinion,
that St. Wenefride y herſelf had given thefe Directions. Wherefore they immediate-
ly diſpatched away two of their Company, who celebrated Holy Mass in her
Chapel; and at that very Time, as it was calculated, the Shrewsbury Monk was re-
ftor'd to perfect Health. On this Account both he and the other Monks became more
tenderly devoted to the Virgin Martyr.
Robertus Salopienfis fpends feven Chapters in relating what Methods were taken,
that happy Succefs might anfwer their zealous Intention. I epitomize, yet will not
omit any thing which appears to me very material. The Abbot and Monks of
Shrewsbury perſiſted with great Conftancy many Years in their earneſt Defires and
fervorous Prayers, to obtain the Treaſure of St. Wenefride's facred Reliques. In the
Reign of King Henry the Firſt a Grant was given of them; but by reafon of many
Commotions after the King's Death in that Country, the Bufinefs was not effected
till the fecond Year of King Stephen's Reign, when Abbot Herbert, in a Confult with
his Monks, deputed Robert his Prior, and Richard an eminent Monk of the ſame
Monaſtery, to paſs into Wales to bring back with them the Reliques. To facilitate
the Matter, before their Departure feveral Letters were tranfmitted to Friends in thoſe
Parts. They vifited in their Journey the Biſhop of Bangor, and were directed by
him to a principal Lord, who ruled in that Country, where the bleſſed Body was kept.
The Nobleman underſtanding the Cauſe of their coming, entertained them courte-
ouſly, and ſaid, that Doubtless God and the Holy MARTYR has fent you to tranſlate
her Body to a Place where it will be more honoured. a I not only give my Confent, but
I will also fend my Servants to affist you. Were not I unavoidably detained by Bufiness
of Importance, I would prefume to go with you in Perfon, and with my unworthy
Hands I would deliver unto you thofe facred Pledges of Sanctity.
2
This gracious Speech cheer'd up the follicitous Travellers, who were Seven in
Number, viz. the two Priors of Shrewsbury and Chefter, Richard the Monk, a
godly
y 'Tis ftrange that the Saints, who whilft they live are the humbleft Things on Earth, and fartheft from
affecting Praiſe and Honour, fhould in the other World become the moſt ambitious and defirous of being
known and worſhipped by their Fellow-Créatures; and yet this is the Character of a great Part of them,
given by the Men who write their Lives. They frequently appear to fome good Body or other, who little
thinks of it, and tell them where they have been buried, where they would have a Chapel built, where
their Prayers will be beft heard, and whither they would be removed. Some good Leffon or other they ſtill
give, which evermore ends in their own Honour, though, to be fure, more to the People's Advantage.
7 Robert ſays, that Guitherin was in the Biſhop of Bangor's Dioceſe. 'Tis certainly now in the Dioceſe
of St. Asaph; but in 1138 there was no Biſhop of St. Asaph, and therefore the Bishop of Bangor might
very probably have the Care of that Dioceſe alfo committed to him; though Robert's Words may be fo con-
ftrued as to fignify, that at that Time there was no fuch Dioceſe as St. Asaph; and I am fure that I can-
not prove there was, by any Hiftory that is left us: For the first that appears is Gilbert, who was confe-
crated in 1143.
But whoever was the Bifhop, I wonder with what Confcience he could give way to the
removing fuch a precious Pledge of the Divine Favour out of his Province.
"The Beginning of this Lord of the Country's Speech is this; I do not think that you and your Compa-
nions have taken all theſe Pains without the Appointment of God, and the Good-will of the Bleſſed Virgin : For
it may be, feeing that due Reverence is not paid her by her own Country-men, fhe has a mind to be carried elfe-
where, and to receive that Honour from other Folks which her own refuse to give her, either through Con-
tempt or Negligence. It would be hard to reconcile this Paffage with the great Efteem and Honour which
the Monk fays her daily Miracles had procured her throughout the whole Country; but therefore the Editor
wifely paffed it by, as he has alfo done abundance of Inconfiftencies and Abfurdities befides; which puts me
in fome Hopes that Pilgrims begin to look a little after the Things they are to ſwallow, and may in time
open their Eyes, and fee how they are ufed. And I heartily wifh, that, for their Sakes, ſome one or
other of their own Communion would faithfully tranflate this Prior Robert's Hiftory of Wenefrede's Life
and Death, and Miracles, and Tranflation to Shrewsbury, without either adding any thing, or leaving
any thing out, but giving us the good Monk genuine and entire, as he is in the Bodley-Library, of which
I have feen a Copy or two.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
635
godly Priest born in that Country, and three Attendants. They fet forward towards
the Saint's Sepulchre, and being come near unto Guitherin, they met à Man, who
caft them into Dejection, but not into Deſpair of Succeſs. He acquainted them in
plain and pofitive Terms, that the Inhabitants having Intelligence of their Coming,
and of their Intentions, were abfolutely refolved to oppoſe them: That no Favour
nor Power of any Mortal fhould prevail with them to permit their chief Saint's
Body, Patroneſs of their Country, to be carried away by Strangers.
Theſe few Words did fo much difpirit them, that it ſeemed neceffary to have En-
couragement from Heaven. Prior Robert lay concealed in a Farmer's Houſe, and
fent the Chefter Prior and the other Prieft to Guitherin, they being Men of Birth,
and well known in that Country. Robert rifing up at his ufual Time to fay Mattins,
was certify'd by a devout Man, who was one of his Company, how that Night a
glorious Virgin had appeared unto him, and had ordered him to acquaint the anxious
Prior, that he ſhould profperouſly effect the Affair he came about, and by her Means,
whoſe Honour he had efpoufed. Robert, fomething comforted with this Relation,
after finiſhing Mattins fell into a Slumber, and feemed to fee a former holy Abbot of
his own Monaftery, called Godfrey, who thus revived him; Banish Fear, Brother
Robert, of failing in your Defign. Be of good Heart; for by God's Affiftance we ſhall
defeat thoſe who oppofe us, and we ſhall obtain what for many Years we have earnestly
defir'd. This was more than fufficient to animate him in the Profecution of his
Journey, especially the other Prior having fent an Exprefs to haften them forward,
becauſe God had profper'd their Undertaking.
Being arrived early in the Morning at Guitherin Church, and having prayed fome
time before her Body, the chief Priest of the Pariſh came unto them, who kindly
faluted them. They humbly begged his charitable Affiſtance, of obtaining the Saint's
holy Reliques; which he eaſily granted them, as knowing before they came the Will
of God. For (faid he) on Eaſter-Eve laft, I had a Vifion in this very Place. Compo-
fing myself to Reft, a beautiful young Man appeared unto me, commanding me to arije. I
anfwered, that 'twas not yet the Hour for Mattins; fo he left me. Returning the fecond
Time, when I was more opprefs'd with Sleep, he bid me rife, as before he had done; but
being very heavy I replied, that I would rife in due time; and covering my Head with 772y
Cloak, I returned to Sleep. In the third Vifit he pulled away my Cloak with Violence,
ordering me to follow him without Delay, as I did, very much affrighted. He led me to
the Saint's Shrine, and pointing at it with his Finger, faid, Note well this Place, and
alfo my Words.
Words. I do command thee, that if fome Months hence Perfons come to
open this Sepulchre, and to carry away with them the Saint's Body, that thou hinder
them not in their holy Defign, but affift them to the utmoſt of thy Power; left by
refifting, thou be puniſhed (as I foretel thee) for thy Difobedience, by fome irremedi-
able Sickneſs. After this the Angel vaniſhed away.
The good Paftor was not wanting to his intimated Duty. He difpofed the Owners
of the Village to acquiefce in the Will of God, and ordered the Pariſhioners to repair
to the Church. Prior Robert feeing fuch a numerous Affembly, ſpoke unto them by
an Interpreter in this Manner; I and my Companions are come hither by Divine Appoint-
ment, to obtain of you St. Wenefride's Body, that it may be honoured in our City and
Monaftery, both which are much devoted unto her. The Virgin berfelf (as your Paftor
here prefent knows) hath by Vifions manifefted her Will; and ſhe cannot but be displeafed
with thofe, who are fo bold as to contradict what ſhe defires ſhould be done. Great Atten-
tion was given to what he faid, and they feemed much inclined to grant the pious Re-
queſt: One Man only oppoſed the Motion, and with a clamorous Voice declared,
That they ſhould never be deprived, by his Confent, of ſo great a Treaſure: That the
Saint had lived holily, and departed in that Place; her Reliques were now honoured
by
636
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
by them, as they had been by their Anceſtors; and that Almighty God had approved
of the People's Devotion at her Shrine, by frequent Miracles. This Man was of an
avaritious Temper, and moved to be fo violent, not out of a Motive of Piety, but Lu-
cre. However, after many Conſultations, at laſt they all unanimouſly conſented,
that St. Wenefride's Body fhould be delivered to the Monks, to be tranflated to Shrews-
bury.
b
The Prior and his Companions returned their moſt humble Thanks, and with-
out lofing Time, defired to enter the holy Ifle, where the Saint's Shrine had been vifi-
ted for many Ages by devout Pilgrims. Robert with his Company being come before
the facred Reliques, fung joyfully to Almighty God Pfalms of Thankſgiving. They
wrapped up decently her Bones in the fineſt Linnen, which was brought by them on
that Account; and after a Repetition of grateful Expreffions to the Paftor and to the
Inhabitants, they proceeded that Night towards Shropshire. In the Way homeward
they cured a fick Man, who was tortur'd with a violent Diftemper, by putting into
Water a little of the Earth found in St. Wenefride's Head, and caufing him to drink
of it. This evident Miracle increaſed Veneration to thofe facred Reliques.
Prior Robert gave timely Notice to his Abbot, that they were near at hand with
the defired Treaſure, and he receiv'd Orders to depofit the fame in St. Giles's Church,
which ſtood near unto the Gate of the City, to the end that the Body might be
brought to the Monaftery in greater Splendor, by a folemn Proceffion of the Bishop,
Clergy, and People. During its Stay there, Monks were appointed by turns to pray
Day and Night before the Altar, on which the Virgin's Bones were expofed. Mul-
titudes of the Citizens of Shrewsbury joined with them in Prayer, and mutually con-
gratulated each other for the Happineſs of ſo potent a Patronefs. St. Wenefride was
not backward in requiting this devout Entertainment, fhewing by feveral Miracles
how acceptable the fame was unto her. The following one is very remarkable.
A young Man had lain long in a miferable Condition; for his Limbs were fo con-
tracted, that he could not point a Foot, and his Head ſo much ſettled downwards to-
wards his Knees, that he could not force it upwards, to lift an Eye to Heaven. He
defired to be carried to St. Giles's Church, and to be fet down before the Altar, on
which ſtood the facred Reliques. He ſpent that Night in Prayer, begging of God,
by the Merits and Interceffion of St. Wenefride, that he might be healed. Towards
Morning he dropped into a Slumber, and before the Priest came to celebrate the firſt
Maſs, he awaked, and found himſelf perfectly cured. This aftoniſhed the whole
City, ſeeing him to walk as readily as any of the Inhabitants.
A Day being appointed by the Bishop, to convey the facred Reliques from St. Giles's
Church to the Monaftery, Notice was given both to Town and Country; and withal,
that ſuch who affifted, or were preſent at the Proceffion, would not only receive the
Bishop's Bleffing, but alſo would gain Indulgences, granted on the Account of the
Solemnity. The univerfal Fame of Miracles, and St. Wenefride's Sanctity, drew to-
gether a Throng of People, who appeared in their beſt Apparel to honour that joyful
Day. A little before the proceffional March, the Sky frowned with dark heavy
Clouds, and threatened immediate Rain: This Storm, ready to fall, contriftated
very much all devoted to the Saint, as foreſeeing that many would withdraw them-
felves. The [Salopienf. Lib. ii. Cap. xv.] Clergy and Monks befought earneſtly the
Omnipotent Difpofer of all Times and Seafons, that he would pleaſe to grant dry
Weather, for his own Honour, and of his Spouſe, and for the Confolation of the
congregated
b Robert, and J. F. the Jefuit, his pretended Tranflator, tell us fairly, that they were fain to ftop
this Fellow's Mouth, by giving him Money. The Editor was afraid of this, as thinking it diſgraceful,
that after ſo many heavenly Vifions, of Wenefrede to Ralph the Sub-Prior of Chefter; of Wenefrede to one
of Robert's Servants; of Abbot Godfrey to Prior Robert himſelf; and of an Angel to the Parfon of Guithe-
rin, to further and affift the Tranflation of theſe facred Bones, it ſhould not be effected without Corruption
and Bribery at laſt.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
637
congregated People, at leaſt until the Proceffion was ended. Their Prayers were
heard to effectually, that although violent Showers poured down in other Parts of the
City, and adjacent Fields, not one fingle Drop fell into any Street through which
the bleffed Body was to pafs. The thick Clouds hovered, and hung over their Heads,
as gathered on purpoſe to bring St. Wenefride miraculously to her new Poffeffion of
the holy Benedictine Monaftery.
с
The Streets were lined with an incredible Concourſe of devout People, who on
their Knees fhed Tears of Joy as the Body paffed by, for fo great a Bieffing. Thefe
were the tender Showers, which fell in thoſe Streets, excepted by Heaven from Rain.
The Bishop and Priests brought the Reliques to the Monaftery, which were reve-
rently received from them by the Abbot and his Monks, as ineftimable Jewels. They
were magnificently placed upon the high Altar, which was dedicated to the holy
Apoftles St. Peter and St. Paul, where many Miracles were wrought for the Help
and Benefit of Souls and Bodies. The Name of God be praised for ever and ever.
Hitherto I have followed Robertus Salopienfis, who tranflated St. Wenefride's Body
from Guitherin to Shrewsbury, in the Year of our Redemption Eleven Hundred
Thirty and Eight.
Not only this City, but likewife other Parts of Great Britain, became moſt ten-
derly devoted to the holy Virgin Martyr; which induced Henry Archbiſhop of
Canterbury, in a Provincial Synod in 1420, to appoint the Feast of St. Wenefride to
be folemnly kept all over England, with an Office of nine Leffons, on the third Day
of November. Linderode, Fol. 76. Alford, Anno 1138.
'Tis aftoniſhing, and likewiſe deplorable, to hear fome Perfons decrying Miracles,
and ridiculing them with fo great Boldneſs and Contempt, that in defpite of holy
Doctors of the Church, and religious Writers, they reprefent Jefus Christ as one un-
faithful to his folemn Promiſe to future Ages; and they obftinately maintain, that all
Miracles had a full Period after the Apoſtles Preaching. They affent without Hefi-
tation to Pagan Plutarch, Tacitus, or Suetonius; but demurr, and doubt of the Au-
thority of that eminent Saint and learned Doctor, St. John Chryfoftome, who wrote a
whole Book on the Subject of Miracles, Lib. de Babyla M. whence he infers, againſt
the wilful Heathens, that Chrift is God, who works fuch Wonders by the dry Aſhes
of his Followers. The Miracles regiſter'd by St. Augustin, in his Book of the City of
God; thoſe of venerable Bede in his Ecclefiaftical Hiſtory; what St. Jerome fays of
St. Paul the firft Hermit, and St. Hilarion; and St. Gregory the Great in his Dia-
logues, are Matter of Mirth to thefe profane Drolls. They don't attend what Maſter
they ſeek to pleaſe, by imitating the obdurate Jews, who, to difcredit the Miracles of
the Son of God, gave them a malicious Turn, faying, In Beelzebub Prince of Devils,
be cafts out Devils, St. Luke xi. 15.
Our invincible Heroine, the glorious Virgin Martyr, St. Wenefride, has not met
with kinder Quarter: For after the Plunder of her rich Shrine, and the ſcattering of
her bleffed Bones, her admirable Life muſt be liſted with the Monkish Legends; her
evident
The Biſhop was not there himſelf, but fent them, as Robert fays, full Powers for what they were to
do, and his Bleffing withal; fo that the Proceffion went on as it ſhould, and not a fingle Thread of any of
the Company was wet, tho' it rained very hard in all the Country round: So gracioufly did God incline
to hear the Prayers of the good Monks and Clergy, in Favour of the Show, and of the People's beſt Cloaths!
The Pilgrims may be confident, that no underſtanding Proteftant did ever maintain, that Miracles
ceaſed after the Apoſtles Preaching. They never did, nor ever will ceafe, whilſt God is able to work
them. Let them be well proved, and no body will deny them.
* If the admirable Life of St. Wenefrede be not a Monkish Legend, there never was a Monkiſh Le-
gend in the World. 'Twas Robert the Monk that wrote it, 500 Years after her Death, and is not able
to vouch for the Truth of any Matter of Fact in it. 'Twas John of Tinmouth the Monk that abbreviated
it, and put it into his Legend 200 Years after Robert; and 'twas John Capgrave the Monk, that put it
into his alphabetical Legend, an 100 Years lower ftill: And I do not know a fillier, worfe told Story, in
4 M
all
638
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
evident Miracles are fabulous Narratives; and the ftupendious Cures wrought at her
Well, are nothing else but the experienced Effects of a Cold Bath. To the
greater
Honour of God, who has honoured this Saint to a wonderful Degree, I will inftance
a few late Miracles, and refer it to the truly Chriftian Reader, whether the watry
Element could influence fuch uncommon Changes. I will not travel further back
than the laſt Age, left it be objected, that many things are afferted, happening long
ago, which may rationally be disbeliev'd, but cannot be difproved. The original
Atteſtations at this Moment lie before me; and where I do not abbreviate (ſome
Cures being worded after a prolix Manner, as to Circumſtances) I will deliver what
I offer, in the very Expreffions of the authentick Records. They are taken from
Eye-Witneffes, who were Perfons of tender Confcience and nice Honour, fome-
times given in under their own Hand-Writing.
In the Year of our Lord God One Thouſand Six Hundred and Six, Sir Roger
Bodenham, Knight of the honourable Order of the Bath, after a tedious Quartan
Ague, had a grofs Humour fettled in his Legs, which foon after broke out into an
apparent Leprosy. He made uſe of many able Phyficians, but depended moſt on
Doctor John David Rhes, a Cambro-Briton, who commenced Doctor at Sienna,
profefs'd Phyſician at Padua, was Practitioner in divers Parts of Italy, and afterwards
in England. He was near fixty Years of Age when Sir Roger confulted him. This
learned Man ran through all Remedies that Concern could fuggeft, or Art deviſe,
without any Succeſs or Eafe to the Knight. He therefore adviſed him to lay the
Cafe before the College of Phyſicians in London, which was ftated very faithfully
and learnedly by the aforefaid Rhes, and was carried up by Mr. Thomas Beale,
Steward of Sir Roger's Courts. The College at London being conven'd, the Caſe
was read and debated, as alfo the Practice and Preſcriptions of Doctor Rhes, which
Beale deliver'd to them in Writing. They wrote back to Sir Roger their Opinion,
That his Physician had hit right on his Diſeaſe, and had applied proper Remedies
for a Cure: That he was a Perfon fo eminently learned, that they acknowledged
themſelves his Inferiors, he having been Reader to moſt of them; and if the Method
he took had no Effect, there was not in Nature any Cure for him. The Knight
found not any Satisfaction by the Anſwer, which was penned to the Commendation
of his Phyfician. Doctor Rhes being a Roman-Catholick, adviſed his Patient to re-
move to St. Wenefride's Well, to try, whether by the Saint's Interceffion he might
not obtain a Cure, which was not in the Power of Art to effect. He acquainted him
with the Holinefs of the Place, and what miraculous Favours were there obtained.
Sir Roger, extremely defirous of Health, obeyed his Phyfician, and undertook a pain-
ful Journey, full feventy-eight British Miles from Rotherwas to Holy Well. He
bathed himſelf in the miraculous Fountain, and became as found and clean from all
Scurf and Leprofy as a Child newly born, and afterwards continued fo. This happened
providentially; for as Naaman, Captain General of Syria, was directed to waſh in the
River Fordan, which compleated a twofold Cure, of his Soul as well as of his Body,
4 Kings v. in like manner the Leper, Sir Roger, came to waſh in the Stream of Holy
Well. He was not at that Time a Catholick; but the miraculous Cure, with other
Motives of Credibility, induced him to embrace the true Faith, and he was recon-
ciled to the Church of Chrift; he rendred Thanks and Praiſes to Almighty God for
both theſe Favours. Befides this Relation, which Sir Roger gave to the Lady his
Wife, and to his Daughter-in-Law, Wife to his eldeſt Son, Mrs. Mary Bodenham,
there were other Witneffes, the aforefaid Thomas Beale, William Green and his Wife,
Richard
all his Book, than this of Wenefrede; and I am perfuaded that very few Scholars can be otherwiſe minded
if they read it. And I fay the fame thing of the Miracles ſhe is ſaid to have wrought, by Robert the
Hiftorian; if there be any Rules of judging which Narratives are fabulous, and which not, I appeal to
them in this Difpute.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
639
Richard Bray, John Henley, and many more Attendants on Sir Roger Boden-
ham, f
The Omnipotent is more glorified in his Saints, by attributing fupernatural Effects
to their humble Petitions before his facred Throne, than to natural Cauſes. Some
Unbelievers, (if holy Scripture had not declared otherwiſe) might afcribe the Whole-
fomneſs of the Waters of Jericho to an occult, fudden, and fubterraneous Quality
and Alteration, rather than to the Prophet Elizeus's Miracle, by cafting Salt into the
Fountain, 4 Reg. ii. 19. Worshippers of the great God have different Sentiments, as
will appear by the following Relation. In the Month of December, and the Year
of our Lord One thouſand fix hundred and thirty feven, Mrs. Jane Wakeman, Wife
to Mr. John Wakeman of Rougley, in the Pariſh of Horsham, and the County of
Suſſex, was tormented with a fore Breaft; and having ufed all probable Means for a
Cure, the found no Eafe or Profpect of growing better. The ableft Surgeons con-
cluded, that unleſs her Breaft was cut off, there was not any other way to relieve her
neither would they by that Operation give Affurance of a Recovery, for they verily
believed that her Breaft was incurable, and to attempt the Amputation, might haften
on the Gentlewoman's Death. They declared this to her Friends, but encouraged
her with better Hopes. Mrs. Wakeman regarded not their Opinion, with which ſhe
was privately acquainted, but reſolved to have Recourſe to Heaven, and to under-
take a Pilgrimage to St. Wenefride's Well in Flintshire. She began her Journey from
London in the Month of June, One thouſand fix hundred and thirty eight, accom-
panied by her faid Husband, Mr. Richard Wakeman his Brother, and one Francis
Naſh. She had at that time two great Holes in her Breaft under the left Pap, which
were ſeen both by Catholicks and Proteftants. When the came into Worcestershire,
to a Place called Beeley, ſhe left there behind her all her Salves and Ointments, ha-
ving a ftrong Faith and Hopes in Almighty God's Mercy, and in the Prayers of
bleſſed St. Wenefride, that ſhe ſhould not have any further Occafion of uſing them.
She only applied clean Linnen, to keep her Breaft ſweet; for the Corruption burſt
out in fo great Quantities, that it forced its Way through many Folds, and ran down
into her very Shoes. Her Breaft left off running at her firſt Bathing in the Holy
Well: She ſtayed one Night only in that Town, but went thrice into the Fountain;
and from the very Inftant of finiſhing her Devotions, to her dying Day, which was
five Years after, fhe never found any Pain in that Breaft, nor any Sore, or Sign
thereof, except a little Seam, to fhew the Place where the two Holes were miracu-
louſly cloſed up. She bore afterwards three Children, and in drying up her Milk,
found that Breaft leaſt troubleſome, which before had been ulcer'd. I have this Ac-
count in Mr. Wakeman's Hand-Writing, which he gave, as a perpetual Teſtimony
of the Favour, and alſo of the Paffage which follows. f
•
In the Year One thouſand fix hundred and thirty, the aforefaid Mr. Wakeman of
Rougley, &c. being at Holy Well, faw a Man lying dead, hard by the Well itſelf.
This profane Wretch, the Day before, had much derided and fcoffed at bleſſed
St. Wenefride, who fuffer'd a glorious Martyrdom in Defence of her Virginity; he
alfo gave abufive and uncivil Language in the Prefence of Mr. Wakeman, to the
Pilgrims, who came thither to perform their Devotions. The Coroner was called, á
Jury
f Sir Roger Bodenham was, it feems, cured of a defperately fore Leg, by the Waters of Holy-well; and
Mrs. Wakeman, of a fad fore Breaft that was thought to be incurable. Theſe are therefore good Proofs,
that God worketh Miracles by St. Wenefrede, or at her Interceffion. This Editor is oft complaining
againſt ſuch as are Enemies to Miracles; but let me tell him, the People who vilify Miracles, are thoſe
eſpecially who make them cheap and common. Are all the People that receive any great Benefit at Holy-
well miraculously cured? or if they are, is it St. Wenefrede that does the Work? or is it certainly by
her Interceffion? What Pity it is, that fome great Saint or other hath not taken Poffeffion of the Waters
of the Bath, Tunbridge, Aftrop, Sunning, and other Places? Great Cures indeed are yearly wrought at
thoſe Places, as much Experience witneffes; but not a Miracle among them all, becauſe, forfooth, they
are under the Protection of no particular tutelar Saints, to whom the Afflicted and Diſeaſed addrefs. Sir
Roger turned Papist, therefore we hear of his Cure as miraculous.
640
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
in
Jury impanelled, and the Body was view'd. After mature Deliberation they gave
this Verdict, That God's just Judgment was the Caufe of his Death, for his uncivil
Carriage in that Place. & Thus Mr. Wakeman, an Eye-Witnefs. I could add here
the Names of fuch, who in the Year One thouſand fix hundred and thirty-feven,
ordered the Image of St. Wenefride to be defaced, and the Iron Bars to be taken
away, which fupported the pious Vifitants in the rapid Stream; how both he who
commanded it, and thoſe who executed his Orders, contrary to the Perfuafion of
feveral moderate Proteftants, were ſhortly after exemplarily puniſhed by uncommon
Misfortunes and Diſaſters. Moreover, had I not confined myſelf to the laſt Cen-
tury, I could mention Precedents, more than fufficient, to caution Perfons from being
too forward in their Contempts of St. Wenefride and her Well, which is fometimes
ſeverely taken notice of by him, who has faid, He that touches you, touches the Apple
of mine Eye, Zech. ii. 8. But let us return from this Digreffion, if it may be
called fo.
The infinite Wiſdom of God thinks fit, not to work Miracles by the Interceffion
of his Saints, in all Places, nor towards all Perfons, but as it pleafeth him, St. Aug.
Epift. 137. The greateſt Wonders are wrought at St. Wenefride's Well, but I relate
here a Cure at a great Diſtance, which tends much to the Glory of our Saint. In the
Month of June, and the Year of our Lord One thouſand fix hundred and forty-feven,
the Wife of John Clec, Gardiner in the Suburbs of the City of Worcester, being dif-
eaſed, undertook on foot a Journey to Holy Well, hoping to find there the Recovery
of her Health. Paffing through Kidderminster, in her Way to Flintshire, the called
at her Coufin Anthony Cooke's Houfe. Having refreſhed herſelf, the acquainted her
Coufin with the Occafion of this her Pilgrimage. The long Difcourfe on the Sub-
ject of Holy Well was over-heard by a fick Woman, who lay in the next Room.
This poor Creature had continued bed-rid fix or feven Years; fhe was always lame,
and had been put upon the faid Cooke (who was a Linnen Weaver) to be maintained
at the Charge of the Pariſh. Juft as the Pilgrim was taking Leave, and ready to
fet forwards, the bed-rid Woman cried out to fpeak with her: The Buſineſs was this;
ſhe defired her for the Paffion of Christ, to carry for her a fingle Penny (which ſhe
gave her) to Holy Well, and to beſtow it on the firſt poor Body fhe there happened
to meet, humbly defiring that Party to go into the Well for her, and to pray that
ſhe might have the Ufe of her Limbs. This was promifed and performed.
The poor Widow's two Mites, caft into the Treafury of the Temple, were fo ac-
ceptable to the Searcher of Hearts, that he declar'd fhe had given more than all to-
gether, Luke xxi. 3. for it was her whole perfonal Eftate. The opulent Scribes and
Pharifees might fling in Handfuls of Gold, they found no Want; this poor Creature
beſtowed on her God what feemed neceffary to relieve herſelf, perchance ſhe ſaying at
the fame Time with a flaming Heart, Lord! if I was Mistress of the two Worlds, as
I am of these two Mites, they should be employ'd to your Honour. St. Wenefride ac-
cepted the fingle Penny fent to her Well, with fo great Faith and Devotion; 'twas all
the bed-rid Woman had to prefent her with. Clec's Wife having remain'd at her
Journey's End fix or ſeven Days, returned homewards; and coming to Kidderminster,
ſhe called at her Coufin Cooke's Houfe, where, to her great Aftoniſhment, ſhe ſaw the
lame bed-rid Woman perfectly recovered; and inquiring at what Time ſhe became
found, 'twas computed, that on that Day, and the very Hour when the fingle Penny
was delivered at Holy Well, the bed-rid Woman arofe, walked round the Houfe, and
abroad,
* The Verdict of this Jury was ridiculous and falfe: For tho' no Man ſhould abuſe the Pilgrims, or
ſpeak contemptibly of a true Saint; yet how can any Man ſay that a ſudden Death was judicially inflicted
on a Wretch by God, for giving ill Language? God's Judgments are a great Depth. God is righteous
in all his Ways, and no Man fuffers without deferving it; but it paffes human Skill, to tell when Suf-
ferings are Judgments. But theſe are Stories fit to terrify an ignorant and fuperftitious Generation.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
641
+
abroad, to the Admiration of the whole Parish. This miraculous Change, at fo
great Diſtance, could not be the Product of a Cold Bath. This Paffage was diligent-
ly examined by Mr. James Bridges, who had Anthony Cooke and Clec's Wife before
him, who both atteſted the Truth of what is here related. In Teftimony whereof
Mr. Bridges recorded the fame in his own Hand-Writing. This was the worthy Gen-
tleman, who being Sheriff of Worcester, proclaimed there the King in the Year 1651;
for which he ſuffered much from the Rebels, and with Difficulty eſcaped the Gallows.
A languiſhing Patient perplexes the Phyfician, and Diftempers radicated from In-
fancy, cauſes him to fling afide his Books, and to diſmiſs the Hopes of a Cure. This
feem'd the Cafe of Mrs. Mary Numan, Wife of Mr. Hugh Numan, who was Clerk to
Sir Jeremy Smith, then Captain of one his Majesty's Men of War. At five Years of
Age, by an Ague and Fever, fhe was reduced to that Lameneſs and Impotence, that
for the Term of eighteen Years ſhe was not able to ftand or point a Foot to the Ground.
Her Arm Bones were fo much out of their natural Places, that one reach'd over and
interfer'd with the other; and the Bones of her Legs were ſo diſlocated, that they ex-
tended ſome Inches behind thoſe of the Thighs. Being in this miferable Condition,
and having confiderable Friends at Court, fhe made her Application and Addreſs unto
them. By their Intereſt, ſhe had the Opinion of all the King's Phyſicians, who de-
clared, that naturally he was incurable. Hereupon fhe was touched by the King, but
it pleaſed God not to reſtore her to Health. She was two Summers and one Winter
at the Bath in Somerſetſhire, and at other Places in England famous for Cures, as alfo
at three Wells in Scotland; altho' fhe could not make any other Shift for herſelf, than
with great Difficulty and Pain to crawl a little upon her Knees. She was carried into
France, and was put thrice into the fecond Grape-Prefs, in divers Parts of that King-
dom. She was touched at Paris by the French King: In Flanders the viſited Sichem
and other Places of Devotion; fhe was eighteen Weeks at Aquifgrane: In Holland fhe
had the Advice of an Italian Prince, famous for his Skill in Phyfick. To be brief,
ſhe was conducted to the Baths in Portugal; all which Journies were for the moſt part
at the King of England's Expence, but not to any Effect or Alteration in the Cripple.
"Tis true, ſhe had been formerly twice at St. Wenefride's Well, without any Amend-
ment, yet had an earneſt Defire and ſtrong Impulſe to make a third Pilgrimage. She
was comforted with theſe inviting Thoughts both awake and fleeping; wherefore, to-
wards the latter End of May, in the Year One thouſand ſix hundred and fixty fix,
ſhe began her Journey from London; and arrived at Holy Well on Wednesday in Whit-
Jon Week, being the fixth Day of June, in the fame Year. Going into the holy Foun-
tain, the immediately felt (with much Pain) her Bones to move, and draw to their
right Places; ſo that by the Help of others, namely Mrs. Degg of Wolverhampton (who
with Mr. Paling her Kinſman, and other Pilgrims of Staffordshire, were at that Time
in the Well) fhe was able to ſtand upon her Feet, which ſhe had not done before (as is
already faid) for eighteen Years, and to walk a little in the Water. On Trinity Sun-
day fhe went the fifth Time into the Well, and afterwards walked without any Help
of others, and on Wedneſday following ſhe undertook a Journey towards Ireland. This
Miracle was attefted, with all the recited Particulars, by herſelf, in the Preſence
of John Hughes de Combe, and Robert Price de Aelwyducha, as Witneffes to her
Subſcription. If the Cold Bath had an occult Virtue to reftore her Limbs,
it had been needleſs to return a third Time, being the former Vifits feemed to
be made in vain. She had heard of St. Beuno's Prediction concerning a third
Payment
The Story of this bed-rid Woman's Cure, may be, every Word of it, true, and yet St. Wenefrede
be nothing concerned in it. Are all the Prayers that are put up at Holy-well, offered to God by Wene-
frede? or is all the Good that is done there, rewarded by God for her Sake? Happy Pilgrims! Thefe
are Encouragements indeed. There is nothing wanting but Truth.
4 N
642
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
Payment of Devotion at that Place, and complying, fhe was bleffed with the fur-
prizing Cure. i
On the fourth of April, One thoufand fix hundred and fixty fix, about five of
Clock in the Afternoon, Hugh the Son of Thomas Williams, of the Pariſh of Whit-
ford in the County of Flint, Yeoman, a Boy of eight Years and nine Months old,
having a Body of juft Proportion in each Part to the Height of his Stature, which
was four Foot, and playing with one of his School-fellows near the Mill, which
ſtands but at a little Diſtance from the holy Fountain, he attempted to skip over
the Water, but came ſhort of the other Side, and dropped into the Current, where
'tis moſt impetuous, three Yards from the great Water-Wheel, and was immediately
carried out of Sight. The Standers-by gave him for loft, as prudently ſuppoſing,
that befides the evident Danger of drowning, he would be crushed to Death; for be-
twixt the Wheel and the paved Bottom of the Channel under it, there is not the
Space of two Inches; yet he was fuddenly convey'd into the Ditch beyond the afore-
faid Wheel. His Companion feeing the fad Accident, and knowing nothing of his
Safety, raiſed a mournful loud Cry, which ſo alarmed the Maſter and forty Scholars,
that they all ran out to learn the Occafion of it: The Miller alfo, and others, were
in the fame Fright; but one William Bowen, who was ſtanding with an angling
Rod four Yards below the Wheel, efpy'd him endeavouring to creep out of the
Ditch, and complaining that he had loft his Shoe. The Boy was taken into a
Houfe, and that Moment a Surgeon was called: His Body being examined, the
Youth was found not to have received any Cruſh or Contufion, except a little Skin
ruffled off one Ancle, as a Mark to declare what would have become of him, if he
had not been miraculouſly preſerved.
k
Cornelius,
* If the Cure of Mrs. Newman be to be accounted miraculous, becauſe it was not effected by any of the
Courſes taken with her in England, France, or Portugal, or other Countries to which fhe travelled, no
nor by being twice at Holy-well before, then certainly no Chronical Diftemper can be cured without a Mira-
cle; and the laſt Remedy that is applied muſt be that Miracle; and if applied at a Place where any famous
Saint is worſhipped, then is that wondrous Cure wrought by that Saint. But why was not Mrs. Newman
cured by being twice at Holy-well before, if the Cold Bath be that which does the Feat? Ask your
Phy-
fician, ask your own Experience, if the fame Medicine has not fucceeded at one Time, that would not
at another? and if the fame Means have not been often ufed, without Succefs, which have at last, through
God's Bleffing, proved effectual? But fhe had heard, belike, of St. Beuno's Prediction, concerning a Third
Payment of Devotion at that Place, and complying, fhe was bleffed with the furprizing Cure. Beuno's
Prediction (if it muſt be called fo) was, That whoever ſhould ask to be delivered from any Evil or Diſeaſe
by her, ſhould certainly be delivered at the firſt, or fecond, or third time of asking, if it were for his
Good; but if he were not delivered at the third time from his bodily Sufferings, he might then expect to die
fhortly after, but might be affured of receiving greater Benefits to his Soul, which would be much better for
him, than if he had received the Health or Bleffing he fought for. But who does not fee, that this is a Fetch
of the crafty Monks, and not at all agreeable to the Simplicity of the Times in which Beuno is faid to have
lived? If you do not fucceed at firſt, come a ſecond time, and then a third: The oftner Pilgrims come to
Holy-well, the more the Monks are like to get by them, for I fuppofe they come not empty-handed. But
what if I do not fucceed the third Time? why then, I fhall have a better thing, in another Place; fo
that ſtill it ſhall be worth my while to come three times to Holy-well; and if I think fo in good earneſt,
then I ſhall certainly think myſelf obliged to leave ſomething at the Altar, that the Saint may be the better
ſerved by ſuch as minifter before her.
How the ſtrange Eſcape of this Boy ſhould turn to the Honour of St. Wenefrede, paffes my Skill to
underſtand; unless all the Mercies God beftows upon the People of that Town and Neighbourhood,
muſt be owing to her Interceffions, Prayers, and Merits. But in this Cafe, fhe was not fo much as asked
or fought to: And yet I am willing to make the moſt I can of this Relation, and defire the Pilgrims to
confider, that if St. Wenefrede does thus protect or intercede for fuch as never feek to her, nor know, 'tis
likely, any thing of her, then Proteftants may fare as well in their Ignorance, and tho' they addrefs not to
her, as thoſe who believe her whole Legend, and pray to her every Day; which would be a difcouraging
thing indeed. And, to be ferious, that I take to be the Truth of the Cafe. The Protestants do not pray
to Saints, becauſe they have no Command from God to do fo; which is fufficient for their Juftification,
were praying to Saints never fo innocent. God has left them, by his Silence in the Cafe, at their Liberty;
'tis therefore an indifferent thing, and they have choſen the Part they like.
dare not pray to Saints, for fear of provoking God to Jealoufy: It looks fo
another, (which he has certainly forbidden) that they are afraid of doing it.
is God offended with Miſtakes of fuch a kind as this? Suppofe that God is
to think he is? Can it diſpleaſe the merciful and gracious Creator, to ſee his
But farther, the Proteſtants
like his giving his Honour to
Suppofing they are miſtaken,
not jealous, is there no Ground
Creatures careful of offending
him,
i
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
643
Cornelius, the Son of John Nicholas, of the Pariſh of Tremaine, in the County of
Cardigan, about two Miles diftant from Cardigan Town, being a young Man of
ſeventeen Years of Age, both Fatherlefs and Motherlefs, entred into Service with his
Aunt. On the one and twentieth of December, One thouſand fix hundred and ſeventy
three, a little before Night, he was ftruck with fo great a Weakneſs by a ſudden
Blaft, finding racking Pains from his Knees downwards, that he was not able to go
or ftand. Several Remedies were uſed, as Ointments, Plaifters, Cutting and Lancing
about the Toes and Ancles, to the very Bones. They continued this Method till
towards Eafter, but finding them infignificant, and that they were rather prejudi-
cial to him, 'twas refolved to convey him to St. Wenefride's Well. His Relations
were indigent, and having no other Means, he was recommended to the Charity of
good People, from Door to Door, on a Hand-barrow. The Welsh diftinguish them-
felves from other Nations, by a Chearfulneſs in affifting thoſe in great Neceffity:
They knew whither the Cripple was to be carried, and on what Account; therefore
they lent helping Hands, that he might finiſh a Journey of ninety Miles. He was
brought to Holy Well on the eleventh of June, and early next Morning was put into
the Fountain, being Friday in Whitfun-week. No fooner was he in the Water, than
he found himſelf perfectly recovered; he walked in the Well, out of it, and ever
after continued in good Health, to the Admiration of all thoſe who had been Specta-
tors of his former miferable Condition. Glory be to God, who is wonderful in his
Saints.¹
It carries a fort of Demonftration for Miracles, when thoſe who obftinately op-
poſe them, are conſtrained to own them. Amongst the reft, perchance, there are
none more pofitive in their erroneous Opinions, than thoſe Men called Quakers.
They deny abfolutely the Divine Efficacy of Baptifmal Water, but the flowing Foun
tain of St. Wenefride prevailed with Roger Whetstone to renounce his Herefy, and by
holy Baptifm to become a devout Chriftian Catholick. This Roger, by Education a
Quaker, by Profeffion a Taylor, dwelling in Sidmore, within the Pariſh of Bromeſ-
grave in Worcestershire, at fixty Years of Age, was vifited with a violent Infirmity,
which difabled him to fuch a Degree, that he could not feed himſelf. He was
confined to his Bed feventeen Weeks, after which he found an Abatement of the
fevere Pains, which before ran through his whole Body. He was fo weak, when
able to rife, that he could not put his Hand to any Work, but halting on Crutches,
he
him, by abftaining from fuch things, as neither Reafon nor Revelation command them to do, nor yet in-
vite them to? But will they not be hereby justly deprived of all the Fruits and Advantages that may at-
tend and follow the Prayers and Interceffions of fo many good and great Saints as are in Heaven? To this
I anſwer in a few Words, That if the Saints and bleſſed Spirits above do pray, and make Interceffion for
the People that are on Earth, they do it either from their own Benignity and good Nature; or elfe, becauſe
they are ordered and appointed of God to do fo. If of their own good Nature, then they will do it whe-
ther I ask or no, eſpecially if they underſtand that I forbear asking, becauſe I am afraid of offending God
thereby, or becauſe I believe they are at too great Diſtance to hear me, or believe they have no Power to
help me; which are all of them very innocent Miſtakes, if they be Miſtakes, and fuch as they were liable
to themſelves whilſt alive, and therefore fuch as cannot pervert the Goodneſs of their Nature, and hinder
them from interceding for me, if they did fo before. But if they intercede, becauſe it is the Appoint-
ment and Will of God that they ſhould do fo, then they will never ceaſe their Interceffion till God ap-
point them to ceaſe; and who can fo far diftruft his infinite Goodneſs, as to think he ſhould command
his bleffed Servants not to intercede for thoſe who pray not to them, only becauſe they find no Reaſon
fo to do, nor any Precept fo to do, and think they ſhould offend him by fo doing? So that, upon the
whole Matter, if the Saints do intercede with God, the Proteftants muſt have the Advantage of their In-
terceffion, whatever it is, altho' they do not pray to them; but if the Saints do not intercede, then are the
Proteftants upon the fafer Side, becauſe they do not pray to them. And this I fay of Saints, that are cer-
tainly fo, and as furely now in Heaven, as I am now on Earth, and do from my Heart truly honour
their Memory, and blefs God for their great Virtue, Sanctity, and good Example: But as for Wenefrede,
and Beuno, and Elerius, and fuch like, I look upon them to be fo far from being Saints, that I doubt
much if ever there were fuch Creatures living on Earth, as they are deſcribed to be.
'I leave it to the Pilgrims themſelves, to confider, whether God is more wonderful in his Saints, be-
caufe Cornelius Nicholas was cured at the cold Waters of Holy-well, than he would have been, had Cor-
nelius been cured at the hot Waters of the Bath, where neither Wenefrede, nor any other Saint, is cal-
led upon, or worſhipped in particular,
644
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
he begged his Bread from Door to Door. Having continued three Years in this fad
Mifery, he was told by a Flintshire Man, dwelling in his Neighbourhood, that at a
Place in his Country, called Wenefride's Well, great Numbers of lame Perfons, and
diſeaſed, were frequently, after a miraculous Manner, reftored to Health. It came
into the Quaker's Mind, fuggeſted by a better Spirit than commonly guided him,
that the Lord would help him at that Fountain. In this he was fo confident, that
not the leaſt Doubt occurred to the contrary: Wherefore, in the Year One thouſand
fix hundred and fixty feven, he began his Journey on Crutches, attended by a young
Girl, his Daughter; and after many Days Travel, he came to Holy Well about Noon,
on the twenty-eighth Day of Auguft, in the aforefaid Year. He could not be in-
duced to waſh in the Well, that had a fmattering of Popery and Superſtition; but
fitting at the Side of it, he drank one Cup of the Water, and he became as it were
in a Trance: Returning to himſelf, he defired another Diſh of the fame Water, and
having drunk it off, he threw away both his Crutches, and found himſelf ſtrangely,
fuddenly, and perfectly cured. He walked round the Well, dropping many Tears of
Joy, to join the Stream of that miraculous Spring. The Power and Goodneſs of
St. Wenefride's m heavenly Spouſe, placed the Miracle out of the Reach of Cavil and
Difpute,
m Give as much Glory as you will to Wenefrede's heavenly Spouſe (if that muſt be the Name of Christ)
for the Cure of Roger Whetstone, or any other, and no one will oppoſe it: But, in the Name of God,
what had St. Wenefrede to do, in reftoring this poor Cripple? Did he defire her Interceffion? No, he
was a Quaker. But did fhe intercede with her Spouſe for him? Yes. And did he hearken to her Prayers,
and heal him? Yes. How does that appear? The Prieſts ſay ſo, and he was healed. Whatever the
Prieſts ſay then is true, and whoever is healed at Holy-well, is interceded for by Wenefrede, and healed at
her Interceffion. Are not theſe Conclufions certain, and inconteſtable? Might not a Man fill
up a thou-
fand Pages with Miracles, if theſe are Miracles? But I will not meddle with that; let thefe Cures pafs
for Miracles ---I only fay, (and pray the Pilgrims to take notice of it) that fuppofing there was fuch a
Woman once in Being, that ſhe was a good Nun, that her Head was ftruck off, and fet on again, and
that ſhe afterwards lived a holy Life, and died in the Reputation of Sanctity --- Suppofing all theſe things
of Wenefrede to be true and certain, (as I affirm not one fingle Point of them is, or can be proved by any
Rules of Hiſtory) yet is it not in the Power of any Man living to prove, to any reaſonable Man's Convi-
Єtion, that ſhe does, or ever did, intercede with God, for the Cure of any lame or difeafed Perfon at Holy-
well, or that God did ever heal or reftore any lame or difeafed Perfon, for the Sake or through the Inter-
ceffion of St. Wenefrede. Let any Man try to clear theſe two Points if he can; 1. That Wenefrede
did, at any Time, intercede with God for fuch a Man, or fuch a Woman; 2. that God did, at Wene-
frede's Interceffion, reſtore ſuch a Man, or fuch a Woman, to Health or Soundness. Is it enough to fay
that fuch a Man or Woman came to Holy-well fick and diſeaſed, and made their Prayers to Wenefrede to
intercede with God to reſtore them, and went away reſtored? Is this enough to prove that Wenefrede did
really and indeed intercede with God for them, meerly becauſe they asked her fo to do? What Certainty
can any one have, that as ſoon as he has prayed to all the Angels and Archangels, the Apoſtles, Saints,
Martyrs, Confeffors, and holy Spirits of Men and Women that are in Heaven, they will intercede with
God for him; what Certainty, I fay, can he have that they immediately fall down before the Throne,
and do it? And fo I fay of any one particular Saint of the whole Number; what Certainty can any one have
that he or ſhe either hears his Prayer, or if they hear, that they immediately attend, and grant it? May
they not poffibly demurr? Have they not Liberty to confider the Petition, and fee if it be reaſonable, or
just, or fit to offer? I would not be thought to ſpeak too flightly of things that other People fet great
Value on, and treat in earneft; but I cannot forbear faying, that having ſeriouſly confidered all the Rea-
fonings of the Ancients, and the Improvements of the modern Advocates for praying to Saints, I do not
find they have proved, that the Prayers of People on Earth arrive to Saints in Heaven, with the hun-
dredth Part of the Certainty, that Letters go from one Country to another, (not by the Poft, but) by the
Packet-Boat at Sea, fubject to all the Winds that Blow, and all the Accidents of that uncertain Element.
There is, indeed, no thinking how a Saint in Heaven can hear the mental and the vocal Prayers of all
that call upon him, from all the different Quarters of the World, at one and the fame Time, without fup-
pofing fuch a Knowledge of the Secrets of all Hearts, and of all that is faid upon the Earth, as differs little,
if any thing, from the Omniſcience of God himſelf, which is an Attribute that, if any be, is incommuni-
cable to a Creature, and without which he could not be qualified to be Judge of all the Earth. And yet
without this Knowledge both of all Hearts and all Tongues, how vain would it be to pray to Saints from
all Places? I have never yet feen it well proved that the Saints do intercede with God for Mankind in ge-
neral, or for the Church Militant in particular: But I will give it for granted that they do, if it pleaſes
God; but it does not follow from thence that they either hear what People ask, or intercede for thoſe efpe-
cial things which are asked; any more than it follows, that I know what my Relations in the Indies ask
of God, or want, becauſe I remember them in my daily Prayers, and beg of God to give them what he
fees is moſt expedient for them. Suppofing therefore that Wenefrede were indeed a Saint in Heaven, and that
ſhe did intercede with God, as the reft of the Saints are fuppofed to do, for the Church in general; yet it
would not thence follow, that fhe interceded for me in particular, or that the knew who I was, or what
I wanted,
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
645
Difpute, by healing an old Cripple in a Minute, with two Draughts of Water. Ano-
ther higher Cure was wrought in the Soul of this Quaker; for giving Attention to
the Inſpirations of the Holy Ghost, and an impartial Ear to the Motives of Belief, he
embraced the Roman-Catholick Faith. He and his Son (eleven Years of Age) re-
ceived the holy Sacrament of Baptiſm, at which the greateſt Quality of that County
were pleaſed to ſtand Patrines.
Were it not to offer a needlefs Repetition of what is faid already, I would fet down
at large the Atteftation of Robert Hill, a moſt rigid Quaker, which lies now before
me, concerning the Truth of the aforefaid Miracle. Have Patience at leaſt with ſome
Part of it, as he words it. I Robert Hill, of the County of Worceſter, having lately
been Overſeer of the Poor of the Parish of Bromefgrave, within the faid County, and now
a near Inhabitant of the faid Town, do testify, That I am, and have been well acquain-
ted with Roger Whiſton, alias Whetſtone, of about fixty Years of Age, Taylor, Dweller
in the fame Town; and that I knew him for theſe three laft Years lame and infirm, that
he could not work at his Trade, nor go without Crutches, and fo feeble, that he was not
able to feed himſelf----- (Hill makes a Recital of his ten Days Journey, and of his
ſudden Cure at the Well, as Whetstone related the fame to him; then adds) For my
own Part, I can well fay, that I knew him infirm and lame, often coming, in theſe
late Years, on his Crutches, to beg at my Door; and now being returned from Holy-
well, is very strong, and well able to work at his Trade, to the great Wonder of the In-
habitants of Bromefgrave, fome whereof, preſently upon his Return, being lame and in-
firm, came to Holy-well, in hopes to be alfo cured; and upon their Return they reported
to me, that they were better in Health than formerly, &c.----- In witness hereto I
put my Hand, the fecond Day of October, 1667. ROBERT HILL. In the fame Ac-
count the faid Robert Hill declares, how his own lame Girl, of fourteen Years of
Age, was cured, by only making ufe of Holy-well Water.
I could
I wanted, or knew that I came to ask fomething of her. None of all theſe things follow, from fuppofing
her to be a Saint, and a general Interceffor for all Chriftians. I must therefore have a particular Revela-
tion from God, to tell me that Wenefrede did, at fuch a Time, intercede for me, or elfe how ſhould I
know it? Well, but the Event tells me fhe did; I came to Holy-well fick and lame, and there I fell upon
my Knees, croffled myſelf devoutly, lift up my Heart, my Eyes, and Hands to Heaven, drank of the
Waters, bathed myfelf therein, and prayed to St. Wenefrede to pray to God to reftore me to my Health
and Limbs; and after a due Continuance at the Place, and Repetition of my Prayers, and Uſe of the
Waters, I found myfelf found and well. And is not this fufficient Proof and Certainty, that Wene-
frede did hear my Prayers, did intercede with God at that time for me, and that God at her Interceffion
did reftore me? Does not the happy Iffue and Event verify and prove all this? No, not one Point; for
Roger Whetstone, a Quaker and a Cripple, came to Holy-well, and drank the Waters, and bathed himſelf
in them, and recovered his Limbs as well as you; and fo far from praying to Wenefrede, that it does not ap-
pear he prayed to God himself to be restored. How is it therefore poffible for you to prove that you were
reſtored at Wenefrede's Interceffion, when that poor Man and a hundred more have been reſtored without
her Interceffion, not only fuch as were ignorant of her Saintfhip, but fuch as were downright Disbelievers,
and fuch as only trufted in God? As therefore your praying to Wenefrede, does not fuppofe that ſhe hears
you; nor your defiring her to intercede for you, fuppofe that ſhe does indeed intercede for you; ſo neither
does your obtaining what you ask, fuppofe that you obtain it for that Interceffion's fake. Theſe are all
of them fallacious Confequences, that crafty Priefts delude poor Pilgrims with: And every beneficial Cure
that a Proteftant receives at Holy-well, is a Demonſtration that Wenefrede's Interceffion is both a needleſs
and a uſeleſs Thing, although it ſhould be innocent to ask it, which I am far from thinking it to be; but I
would not enter into any new Controverfy. I have gone thus far, in hopes that what I have already offered,
might make it needleſs to confider the Litanies and Prayers which I fee are printed anew at the End of this
little Book: For if what I have faid in the foregoing Pages, to the difcrediting this Legend of St. Wenefrede,
ſhall not have its Weight, the Pilgrims will go on in their old Way, for any thing I fhall fay farther: But
if it have, then is my farther Labour fuperfeded alfo, and they will go to God and feek their Reme-
dies at his Hands, through the Interceffion, and for the Sake and Merits of Jefus Chrift alone, our com-
mon Lord and Saviour, who ever liveth to make Interceffion for us, and is both able and defirous to fave
to the utmoſt all that come to God by Him.
I will therefore trouble the Devout Pilgrims with no more Arguings, but pray them to confider theſe
few Things following, which I have in feveral Places mentioned before.
Whether they would ever pray, unleſs they were fure there were a God?
Whether they would ever pray to God, unleſs they were fure that God heard their Prayers?
Whether they would pray to God, unless they were fure that he could give them what they asked; and
would, if he faw it fitting and expedient for them?
40
Whether
646
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
I could bring a Cloud of Witnefes (to ufe St. Paul's Expreffion, Heb. xii. 1.) affert-
ing other undeniable Miracles wrought by St. Wenefride's Interceffion, not in an ob-
ſcure Corner, but in the Face of the Sun. I folemnly declare, that I leave behind
twice as many Wonders, happening in the laft Century, of which many were Eye-
witneſſes, at the holy Fountain. Holy-well feems to reſemble, in fome fort, the Pro-
batica Pond, where, in five Porches, there lay a great Multitude of fick Perfons, of
blind, lame, and withered, St. John v. 3. In the travelling Seafon the Town ap-
pears populous, crowded with zealous Pilgrims, from all Parts of Britain. The
Well itſelf receives a Succeffion of Vifitants from Sun-rife till late at Night. The ma-
ny Hand-barrows and Crutches, which have been hung at the Pillars, demonſtrate
the Mercies of God, and the powerful Interceffion of the Virgin-Martyr. They are
foon removed by thoſe who envy the Glory of our Saint. I forbear to recount at large
the Recovery of blindifh Eyes, of barren Women becoming fruitful, of inveterate vi-
olent Convulfions fuddenly ceafing, of deaf Perſons favour'd with hearing, of ſtubborn
Devils caft out of poffefs'd People (certainly the immortal Spirits, who fuffer the eternal
Torments of Hell, could not be forced away by the material Elements of a Cold Bath.)
Thefe, and many others of the laſt Age I omit, not to increaſe the Price and Bulk
of a Pocket-Book, as alſo that it may be ready to wait on thoſe to whom it is dedi-
cated. St. Auguftin, in his xiith Book of the City of God, writing of a blind Man who
received Sight, and of other Miracles, when St. Ambrofe tranflated the holy Bodies of
SS. Gervafius and Protafus, thought it fufficient Conviction againſt the incredulous
fcoffing Heathens, that Immenfo Populo Tefte, res gefta eft, A vaft Concourfe of People
were able to atteſt the Truth of them; which is exactly our preſent Cafe.
I conclude
Whether God has not commanded all Men to come to him by Prayer?
Whether he has not commanded all Men to come to him by Jefus Chrift, their Mediator and Inter-
ceffor?
Whether Jefus Chrift alone be not an able, willing, and fufficient Mediator and Interceffor? or whe-
ther there be Need of any other?
Whether it be as certain that there was fuch a Woman as Wenefrede, as that there is any Man or Wo-
man now living in North-Wales? If not, how can they pray to her?
Whether it be as certain that Wenefrede's Head was cut off, and fet on again, as that any other Saint
heretofore ſuffered Martyrdom? If not, how know they that ſhe was a Martyr?
Whether it be as certain that ſhe is now a Saint in Heaven, as that St. Peter and St. Paul are now in
Heaven? If not, how can they pray to her?
Whether it be certain that all who are in Heaven, hear all the Prayers that are made to them on Earth?
Whether the Saints know diſtinctly and feparately the Prayers of one Man from another?
How is it, that Men on Earth can be ſure that fuch a one is a Saint in Heaven, and that ſhe hears their
Prayers, and intercedes with God for them, unleſs God hath told them fo, either in the Scriptures, or by
other particular Revelation?
Hath God by either of thefe Ways told them, that Wenefrede is a Saint in Heaven, and hears their
Prayers, and intercedes for them? If not, how come they to pray to her?
Is there any Command, any thing like a Command, in the Scriptures, that Men ſhould pray to Saints?
Is there any Encouragement fo to do? And who would venture on fuch a Practice without a pofitive Com-
mand, when they may go to God by Chriſt, which is commanded, and to which there can be no Excep-
tion or Objection, and for whofe fake alone it is that any Prayers are heard or granted?
And now I cannot chufe but hope, that the devout Pilgrims, after confidering all theſe Things, will
require at their Prieſts Hands a more full and fatisfactory Account of the Certainty of the Life, Beheading,
Refufcitation, Second Death, and Miracles of St. Wenefrede, than Prior Robert (500 Years after her
fuppofed Life) hath given them in a poor, miferable, fufpicious Legend; and that they will no longer
addreſs themſelves to one by Prayer (of whofe very Being they are, and can be fo little affured) in Terms
as great, as ftrong, and weighty, as they would uſe to Jeſus Chriſt himſelf. Such are the following ones
in the Prayer to St. Wenefrede: O fingular Hope of all that fly unto thee with Confidence and Humility;
though unworthy, yet we thy devoted Pilgrims make our Addreffes unto thee. O Sanctuary of Piety, look
upon us with patient Eyes, receive our Petitions, accept our Offerings, and prefent our Supplications to the
Throne of Mercy, that through those thy powerful Interceffions, God will be pleafed to bless this our Pilgrimage,
and grant us our Request and Defires, through Jefus Chrift his Son, &c. Think with yourſelves if this
be right, to take a Saint upon Truft, from the Tradition of a poor, ignorant, obfcure, and fuperftitious
Corner of the Land, drefs'd up by a Monk, who was employed to ſteal her Bones, and thereby bring the
Advantage of Oblation to his Monaftery, and give her fuch great Names and Titles, fuch Appellations and
Attributes, in Prayers addreffed to herſelf, as you would give to Jefus Chrift himſelf, the Everlaſting
Son of God, and King of Saints, if you ſhould go on Pilgrimage to any Place devoted to his Name and
Honour, to ask him any Favour. Think with yourfelves, I pray you, for your Good, if this be right
and fitting.
The LIFE of St. WENEFRIDE.
647
1 conclude with the Divine Meffage the Son of God fent to his Præcurfor in Prifon,
to confirm the Diſciples of the Baptift, and to confound the obdurate Jews, which
with profound Humility, and the greateſt Deference imaginable, may be applied to
our glorious Patronefs of Wales, by what you read in this admirable Life; Go and re-
port that the Blind fee, the Lame walk, the Lepers are made clean, the Deafhear, the
Dead rife again, to the Poor the Gospel is preached, St. Mat. xi. 5. The Omnipotence
and Goodneſs of our great God be adored and praiſed, by all Angels and Saints, for
ever. Amen, Amen.
THE
LITANIE S
O F
St. WE NE FRID E.
ORD have Mercy upon us.
Lo
Chriſt have Mercy upon us.
Lord have Mercy upon us.
+
God the Father of Heaven have Mercy upon us.
God the Son, Redeemer of Mankind, have Mercy upon us.
God the Holy Ghoſt have Mercy upon us.
Holy Trinity, One God, have Mercy upon us.
Holy Mary,
Holy Mother of God,
Holy Virgin of Virgins,
O bleffed St. Wenefride,
O humble and mild Virgin,
O glorious Spouſe of Chriſt,
O devout and charitable Virgin,
O fweet Comforter of the Afflicted,
O fingular Example of Chaſtity,
O Radiant Star,
O faireſt Flower of the Britiſh Nation,
O admirable and elected Veffel,
O Mirror of Chaſtity,
O Mirror of Devotion,
O Mirror of Piety,
O bright Lamb of Sanctity,
O Golden Image of Angelical Purity,
O Hope and Safety of diftreffed Pilgrims,
Pray for
us.
That
648
The LITANIES of St. WENE FRIDE.
That we may be delivered from all Iniquity,
That we may be delivered from all difordered Paffions of the Mind,
That we may be delivered from the Deceits of the World, Fleſh, and
Devil,
That we may be delivered from all Occafions of Sin,
That we may be delivered from Plague, Famine, and War,
That we may be delivered from the Wrath of God and Eternal Damna-
tion,
That we and all Sinners may have true Contrition, and full Remiffion of
our Sins,
That all Schifmaticks, Hereticks, and Infidels may be converted to the
Holy Catholick and Apoftolical Faith,
That we may always hate Sin, and overcome all Temptations,
That we may deſpiſe all worldly Vanities and Delights,
That we may ever fear God, and fulfil his holy Will,
That we may have both ſpiritual and corporal Health,
That we may devoutly affect Chaſtity and Purity of Life,
That we may fervently love Humility and Mildneſs,
That we may delight in pious Prayer, Fafting, and charitable Alms,
That we may diſcreetly and fervently continue in the Exerciſe of God-
lineſs,
That we may chearfully and conftantly fuffer for the Love of Chriſt,
That the Souls in Purgatory, and all afflicted Perfons, may obtain heavenly
Confolations,
That our Benefactors, and all that labour to fave Souls, may be bleffed
with abundance of Grace, and everlaſting Life,
That we may enjoy true Peace, and endleſs Felicity,
That God of his abundant Mercy will vouchfafe to bleſs this our Pilgri-
mage,
That by thy pious Interceffion it may be to the perfect Health of our Souls
and Bodies,
That thou wilt vouchfafe to grant our Requeſts,
O bleſſed Wenefride,
Let us pray.
O boly Virgin and Martyr, pray for
us.
ALMIGHTY and Everlaſting God, who haft adorned St. Wenefrede, with the Re-
ward of Virginity; Grant us, we beseech thee, by her pious Interceffion, to fet
afide the Delights of the World, and obtain with her the Throne of everlaſting Glo-
ry; through Jefus Chrift thy Son, who with thee liveth and reigneth in the Unity of
the Holy Ghoft for ever. Amen.
Another Prayer.
LMIGHTY and Everlaſting God, we humbly befeech thee, that bleffed St. We-
nefrede may
obtain for us ſuch ſpiritual and temporal Benefits, as are expedient
for thy holy Service, and our eternal Salvation; through our Lord Jefus Chrift thy
Son, who with thee and the Holy Ghoſt liveth and reigneth ever one God, World
without End. Amen.
The
649
The HYMN of St. WENEFRIDE.
As
S fragrant Rofe in pleaſant Spring,
To God's own Son a Spouſe moſt dear,
And Martyr rare of Chriſt our King,
St. Wenefride did flouriſh here.
Defcended well of BRITISH RACE,
In Faith was firm, in Hope fecure,
With holy Works, and Soul in Grace,
From worldly Filth preferved pure.
Cradock this Sacred Maid did kill,
And him Hell ſwallowed preſently,
Where Tears in vain do run down ſtill,
'Mongft burning Flames inceffantly.
A Token fure of this ſtrange Thing,
Befpotted all with bloody Red,
A Well by God's Command doth ſpring,
Where Tyrant's Sword cut off her Head.
Here Wonders great God's Hand doth work;
The Blind doth fee, the Dumb doth ſpeak,
Diſeaſes which in Bodies lurk,
Are cured where Faith is not weak.
O glorious Virgin Wenefride,
To us the raging Sea appeafe,
And free us fo from Satan's Dread,
That he on us may never feize. Amen.
A Prayer to St. WENEFRIDE.
O Bleffed Wenefride, O pure Virgin and glorious Martyr, fo eſpecially elected, fo
divinely graced, and wonderfully reſtored from Death to Life; O fingular Hope
of all that fly unto thee with full Confidence and Humility; though unworthy, yet
we thy devoted Pilgrims make our Addreffes unto thee. O Sanctuary of Piety, look
upon us with patient Eyes, receive our Petitions, accept our Offerings, and prefent
our Supplications to the Throne of Mercy, that through thofe thy powerful Intercef-
fions, God will be pleaſed to bleſs this our Pilgrimage, and grant us our Requeſt and
Defires, through Jefus Chrift his Son, who with God the Father, and the Holy Ghoft,
liveth and reigneth, ever one God, World without End. Amen.
O
Another Prayer to St. WENE FRIDE.
Bleſſed St. Wenefride, O glorious Virgin and Martyr, who haft admirably beau-
tified with the Purple of thy Blood the rare Purity of thy innocent Life, whom
God has fo eſpecially chofen, fo highly privileged, and fo wonderfully reſtored to
Life again, gracing thee with the Honour of a living Martyr, caufing a Fountain
miraculouſly to fpring, bearing a perpetual Memory of thy Name, for the Relief of
all diſeaſed and diftreffed Pilgrims, who fhall devoutly beg thy powerful Interceffion.
O bleſſed St. Wenefride, hear the Prayers, and receive the humble Supplications of thy
poor devoted Pilgrims, and obtain that by thy pious Interceffion, God of his infinite
Mercy will be pleafed to grant us a full Pardon and Remiffion of our Sins, and a Blef-
fing to this our Pilgrimage; and that we may increaſe and perſevere in God's Grace,
and enjoy him eternally in Heaven. This we beg of thee, O bleffed Virgin and
Martyr, for Jefus Christ our Lord and Saviour's Sake. Amen.
4 P
St. BEINO's
1
A
St. BEIN O's LIFE and MIRACLES.
Tranflated from the
BRITISH
IT ISH MS.
Gentleman lived at Banbenic in Powifland, above the River then called
*Sabrina, but now Hafren. His Name was Bugu, and his Wife was Beren,
Daughter of Lawden. It was an innocent and harmleſs Couple, and
obey'd the Commands of God in all things as blameleſs as they could.
And they had no Son. And they were well ftricken in Years, having paſt the beſt of
their Time. And they had lain together for twelve Years without knowing one ano-
ther, by mutual Confent. And on a Work-day as they talked together, behold an
Angel came to them, and his Raiment was as white as Snow, and faid to them, Be
of good Chear, for God hath heard your Prayers; and the Angel faid to the Huſband,
This Night thou shalt know thy Wife, and ſhe ſhall conceive and bring forth a Son,
and he ſhall be in Favour both with God and Man. And as the Angel adviſed ſo they
did, and Beren conceived that very Night, and brought forth a Son, and called him
Beino. And they brought up the young Child at home till he could walk, and then
they ſent him to a Saint in † Gwentland, called Tangufius. And his Parents had Di-
vine Directions to difpofe of him thus. And with that Saint he lived till, by the Help
of God, he had learned all the Holy Bible. There he learned the Service and Orders
of the Church, and was ordained Prieft. And Ynyr, King of Gwentland, took notice
of him; he was a meek, chafte, and a generous Man, very ready to be adviſed; he re-
ceived Beino honourably and friendly, gave him a Gold Ring and a Crown, and was
a Difciple to and Monk under St. Beino; and he gave him three Eftates in Evas, and
the People alfo in thofe Divifions with their Goods and Chattels. At that Time Bei-
no's Father was fick, and they defpaired of his Life; and he fent a Meffenger to his
Son Beino, and commanded him on his Bleffing to come to him. Then Beino fpoke
to his Friends and Difciples, Stay you here in this Place, while I
go to fee
my Father
now dying. And fo they did. And St. Beino recommended them to the King and
the Gentlemen of that Country. And he went to the Place where his Father was ill;
and his Father, after Communion and Confeffion, made a good End, and died. Then
Beino ſtay'd in his Father's Eſtate, built a Church there, and dedicated it to our Lord
Chriſt. And he planted an Acorn on the Side of his Father's Grave, which
grew to
be a great Oak in Height and Compaſs; and a Branch of that Oak reached to the
very Ground, and from the Ground again to the Top of the Tree. And there was a
Piece of the Branch in the Ground, and always is. And if an Engliſhman go
between
this Part of the Branch and the Root of the Tree, he fhall fuddenly die; but if a
Welchman, no Harm ſhall befal him. And when Beino had lived a long time in his
Father's Townſhip, he left the Place, and he went forwards to Mawn the Son of
Brochwel. He received him very kindly and hofpitably; and then Mawn gave an
Offering to God and Beino for his own and his Father's Soul. And on a Work-day,
as Beino was travelling by the River Severn, he could hear the Voice of an English-
man hollooing to his Hounds, hunting a Hare on the other Side of the River, crying
out as loud as he could, Kergia, Kergia, which in his Language was encouraging the
Dogs. And when Beino heard the Voice of an Englishman, he immediately turned
back to his Difciples, and bid his Sons put on their Cloaths and Shoes, and leave that
Place,
* Severn.
+ Monmouthshire.
The LIFE of St. BEING.
65 £
Mountain, and to
And they did fo.
And they did fo.
Hour of the Day;
kill him, to entertain the
And the Fleſh was put
and it was in the Pot
Place, for I hear the Voice of a Man of another Nation t'other Side of the River hol-
looing to his Dogs, who fhall conquer this Place, and keep it in their Poffeffion. Then
Beino fpoke to one of his Diſciples, named Rithwlint; My Son, fays he, obey me, I
would have thee ftay here, and my Bleffing be with thee: And I fhall leave with thee
a Croſs I have made myſelf. And that Difciple received his Maſter's Bleffing, and
ſtay'd there. And Beino came to the Diſciples at Myvod, and there he ſtay'd with
St. Tyfillio forty Days and forty Nights. From thence he came to King Cynan, the
Son of Brochwel, and begged of him a Place to pray for his own Soul and thoſe of
his Companions: And the King gave him Gwyddelwern, a Place that had its Name
from the Irishman whom Beino raiſed from the Dead there, whofe Wife had been the
Occafion of his Death; and there Beino built a Church. About this Time Cynan's
Nephews came from hunting, and begged fome Meat of him. Then Beino commanded
his Servants to fetch a Runt from the
Huntſmen that begged Meat of him.
into the Pot to be boiled the third
till the Afternoon, and the Men all the while blowing the Fire under the Pot,
and yet
the Water was not warm in the Pot, nor had the Fleſh changed its Colour.
Upon this one of the Laymen faid, This Scholar with his Art hath done this, that
we might have nothing to eat. And when Beino heard this Word fall from his Mouth,
Let him be accurfed, faid he; and he died before the End of that Day. Then Bei-
no difcourfed with the Sons of that *wife Man, and told them, What your Father
has given free to God, will you demand Rent and Service for? May that God whom
I ſerve, and gave me this Grant, cauſe that none of your Heirs enjoy this, and deſtroy
you from this Kingdom, and an eternal one hereafter. And as Beino prayed, ſo he
obtained. Then Beino left that Place, and walked on the Side of the River Dee, to
get a Place to pray to God in. And he found none till he came to Temic, the Son of
Elwyd; and this Temic gave Beino a Town to inherit for ever; and there Beino built a
Church, and dedicated it to God. Within a ſhort time Temic left this folitary Place
to Beino. And on a Work-day Temic and his Wife went to Church to hear Maſs
and Sermon from Beino, and left his Daughter at home to keep Houſe. And behold
ſhe ſaw the King of that Place coming to the Houſe, whofe Name was Caradoc.
She immediately met him, and was civil to him. He asked where her Father was?
She anſwered, At Church; if you have any Buſineſs with him, ſtay for him, and
he will come preſently. I will not ftay, except you promife to be my Concubine.
The Maid anſwered, I'll not be thy Concubine, for you are King, and deſcended.
from Kings, and I am too mean to be your Concubine. But, fays fhe, if you ſtay
till I return from my Chamber, I will do what you pleaſe: And under Pretence of
going to her Chamber, fhe fled to the Church where her Father and Mother were.
The King perceiving her to fly, purfued her, and overtook her as fhe was entring
the Church-door, and with his Sword ſtruck off her Head into the Church, and the
Body fell without. Beino and the Father and Mother faw this: And Beino looked
in the King's Face, and told him, I will beg of God that he fpare not thee any
more than thou haft fpared this good Maid. And in that Inftant the King melted
into a Pool, and he was no more feen in this World. Then Beino took the Maid's
Head, and put it on her Body, and ſpread his own Mantle over the Body, and bid
the Father and Mother that lamented over her, be quiet a little while, and leave her
as fhe was till Mafs was over. Then Beino offered to God; and as foon as Mafs was
over, the Maid was alive, and fhe wiped the Sweat off her Face; fo God and Beino
made her full well. Where the Blood fell on the Ground a Fountain aroſe, which
to this Day cures Men and Cattel of their Diftempers, and the Fountain was called
from the Maid's Name Winifrid's Well. And many faw this and believed in Chrift :
Then Beino offered to God
But
* Selyf.
652
The LIFE of St. BEINO.
But the greateſt Man that believed was Cadvan, King of North-Wales, who gave
Beino a great deal of Land. And when Cadvan died, Beino went to vifit Cadwallawn,
Cadvan's Son, who fucceeded him in the Kingdom of North-Wales: And Beino
begged to have the Land Cadvan had promiſed; for he had there no Place to wor-
ſhip God or to dwell in. Then the King gave Beino a Place in Arvon, called
*Gwaredog. And Beino gave the King a Gold Sceptre, that Cynan, the Son of Broch-
well, had given him at his Death, which Sceptre was worth Sixty Cows. And there
Beino built a Church, and began a Wall about it; and on a Work-day when he was
making this Wall, and his Diſciples with him, behold they could fee a Woman with a
young Child in her Arms, begging of Beino to blefs the Child. Stay, Woman, a little,
ſays Beino, till we finiſh this Work. And the Child cried, and would not be pacified.
Then Beino asked the Woman why the Child cried? Good Saint, anfwered the
Woman, he has good Reaſon. What is that Reaſon, fays Beino? Why, without
doubt the Land which you poffefs and build upon, fays the Woman, is the In-
heritance of this Child. Then Beino bid his Difciples withdraw their Hands from
the Work, while he baptized the Child; and to prepare him his Coach, and we
will go with this Woman and her Child to vifit the King who gave me this Land.
Then Beino and his Difciples fet out with the Woman and her Child, and came
to Caer || Seint where the King was, now called Caernarvon. Then Beino ſpoke to
the King ---- Why haft thou given
Why haft thou given me another Man's Land? Why, fays the King,
who claims it? The Child, fays Beino, that is in that Woman's Arms is Heir of this
Land. And Beino faid, Give the Child his Land, and give me other Land in its
ſtead, or return me the Prefent I gave thee, viz. the Sceptre. But the oppreffing
and proud King anſwered, I will not change the Land, and the Preſent thou gaveſt
me I have given it to another. Then Beino was very angry, and told the King, I
will beg of God that within a while thou mayeft have no Land at all; and Beino
went off and left him accurfed. Now there was one Gwyddeint, Coufin German
to the King, who followed after Beino, and overtook him the other Side of the
River Seint, where Beino fate on a Stone by the River-fide, and he gave God and
Beino for his own Soul and the Soul of Cadwallawn his Coufin-German, the Town of
Celynog for ever, without any Rent or Service accruing out of it, and made a good
Title of it; and there Beino did many Miracles, by the help of God, which no
Man could number. At that Time it happened that one of the Workmen of Aber-
fraw went to the Palace in Gwent, and a handfomer Man could not be ſeen in a
Summer's Day. When the Princeſs in Gwent ſaw him, ſhe fell fo deep in Love with
him, that ſhe could not be without him: And the King her Father hearing of it,
choſe rather to give his Daughter to him, than that ſhe ſhould take him herſelf of her
own accord; preferring ſuch a handſome Man and loyal, to be the King's Son, and
a Nobleman. In Procefs of Time the young Man perfuaded his Wife to vifit his own
Country, and they came to a Place called Pennardd in Arvon, and there they lighted
off their Horſes and reſted; and the Princeſs his Wife, being weary, fell aſleep. While
ſhe was ſleeping, he began to confider with himſelf how he muſt be aſhamed in his own
Country, having a Wife ſo nobly deſcended, and that he had no other way to main-
tain her but to go to the Works where he got his Livelihood before; and there, by the
Devil's Inſtigation, he cut off her Head with his Sword. He went on his Journey to
his own Country with his fine Horſes, and Silver, and Gold; and when he came to
the King, he bought a Place for himſelf to be Steward of the Houfhold. In the mean
time a Shepherd of Beino's found out the dead Body, and told Beino. And Beino
came on the Wings of the Wind to the Corpfe, and fqueezed the Head to the Body,
and fell upon his Knees and prayed thus, O Lord, Creator of Heaven and Earth,
who
* Gwaell.
Segontium.
The LIFE of St. BEINO.
653
ذ
who knoweft all Things, raife this dead Body to Life again: And immediately the
Woman was reſtored to Life, and told Beino all that had happened. Then Beino
fpoke to her, Chufe you whether
you will
go. to your own Country, or ferve God
here. The Woman anſwered, I chufe to ſerve God here with you, who raiſed me
from the Dead. And where the Blood fell to the Ground, a clear Fountain did riſe,
and was called from the Woman's Name Digiw-well. And fome time after a Brother
of the Princefs, Idon, the Son of Ynyr of Gwent, came to Beino to vifit his Sifter
and when he came there, he found his Sifter with Beino ferving God. And he afked
his Sifter whether fhe would come home? She anfwered, that ſhe would not leave
the Place where ſhe had been raiſed from the Dead. And when Idon faw that he
could not prevail with his Sifter, he begged of Beino to accompany him as far as Aber-
fraw, to petition the King there to compel his Sifter's Hufband to restore the
Horſes, Gold, and Silver he had taken from his Sifter. And they travelled both to-
gether to the King's Palace; and Idon foon faw the Man he enquired after, and im-
mediately he drew his Sword, and cut off his Head. Then the King was fore dif-
pleaſed, and ordered the Man that killed his Steward to be apprehended. And Beino
ſaid, Lay not your Hand upon the Man that came with me. Then the King fwore
with great Indignation, that he would immediately order the Man to be deſtroyed,
except Beino would raiſe to Life the Man that was killed: And Beino, without any
Hefitation, trufting in God, raiſed the Man that was killed to Life again. And the
King repented that he had tempted the Saint; and he gave Beino the Palace he now
lives in, called Beino.
Many other things have we omitted to ſpeak of, left the Book fhould grow too
bulky. Here is only a Taſte of Beino's Miracles. And no one knows what God
has done for Beino's Sake, but God alone. And whofoever does Good, it is moſt
certain that God will be his Helper. Every thing that God commanded, Beino
formed. He gave Meat and Drink to the Hungry and Thirsty, Cloaths to the Naked,
per-
Entertainment to Strangers, and he would vifit the Sick, and thofe that were in
Prifon. He would perform exactly every good thing the holy Scripture commanded.
And now Beino's Days were at an End, and the ſeventh Day after Eafter he could fee
the Heavens opened, and Angels deſcending and afcending up again: And then Bei-
no ſpoke; I ſee, ſays he, the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, and Peter and
Paul, * Duidvirion and Daniel, Saints and Prophets, Apoſtles and Martyrs, appear-
ing to me. And I ſee amongſt all theſe, ſeven Angels ſtanding before the Throne of
the Almighty Father, and all the Fathers of Heaven and Singers, faying, Bleffed are
they whom thou haft chofen, and taken to thyſelf to live with thee for ever. I hear
the Voice of Almighty Father inviting me, and faying to me, My Son, throw off thy
Weight of Flesh from thee; now the Time is come, thou art invited with thy Bre-
thren to the everlaſting Feaſt: Let thy Body remain in the Earth, and let the Hoſt of
Heaven, the Angels, carry thy Soul to the Kingdom of Heaven, which thou haft de-
ſerved here by thy Works. And now the Day of Judgment will be greater, when the
Lord fhall ſpeak to his Saints, You bleffed Sons of my Father, come to inherit the
Kingdom that was prepared for you fince the Beginning of the World; where Life
ſhall be without Death, Youth without old Age, Health without Sickneſs, and Joy
without Sadness. The Saints of the firft Degree with God the Father fhall be next
the Archangels, and the Diſciples of Jefus Chrift, next to the nine Degrees in Heaven
of fuch as have not finned; next to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghoſt. Amen.
Let us now beg the Mercy of God Almighty, through the Affiftance of St. Beino,
that with him we may enjoy eternal Life, for ever and ever. Amen.
*Druidion.
4 e
E Cod.
[ 654 ]
E Cod. MS. in Bibl. Bodl. fup. Art. A, &c. 72. fol. 189. a.
V
Seint Vonefrede the holi Virgine.
Onefred was an holy Mayde, ſo ich ondirſtonde,
In the tyme tho Syre Aleyn was King of Ingelonde :
This ilke King was a good Man, fo God 3ef the Cas,
They his Sone was a Fool, thilke tyme nas
5 And that Men feth wel ofte, alſo thinketh me;
Therfore wel is the Child that may I the be Fadir what he be.
This holy Mayde lerned here Byleue tho
With a Preft of the Contre, that men cleped Beuno.
This Mayde he tau3t ever wel to flen al Lecherye,
10 And to kepe here Body clene fram Synne and fram Folye.
And the Mayde him behet myd good wille tho
That 3he wolde clene Mayde byleven everemo.
In a tyme hit byfil that the deuel alone
Acom, after that here Frendes to Chirche weren agone.
15 The Kinges Sone com to Here in his Rebaudye,
And gan here by fechen fafte, to don his Lecherye.
The Mayde him anſwered and fayde anon ry3t
Ich nam nougt to ben thin Hore nouthe I dy3t ary3t:
Ich wole gone to Boure, and come to The anon,
20 And than with my Body thy wil thou my3t done.
For 3he wolde afcapye, the Mayde ſeyde al this,
And for 3he nolde nou3t habbe with him to don I wis.
Tho 3he was withinne a Dore 3he ondede anon,
And fuththe toward Chirche wel gerne 3he gangon.
25 Anon tho this fool Child herof the foth ifay,
That he was bygylid thorow3 that fayre May.
And after here wel quickliche anon he gan to go,
And anon drou3 out his Swerd tho he com here to.
And faſte by the Chirche dore he ſmot of here heved;
And thus was this holy Mayde of here Lyf byreved.
God cheued anon that this dede was nou3t gode,
Therfore with the dede this 30ng Child worth tho wode.
In all his woodhede he lefte tydes thre,
30
And fuththe he deyde fodeynliche, fo the Bok telleth me.
35 The Devel was tho iredy, and Body and Soule nom,
So that no Man nyfte whodyr that he bycom.
In the ftede that the Mayde fo byhevedid was
A fwythe fayr Welle anon Sprong bycas.
And fom men told in fuththe that therby tho ftode,
40 That ther bethin Stonys ifpringed al with blode.
Ther nys fo queinte nother more ne laffe
That mowe the blodis dropis fram the Stonys waffche.
Ac ech Mon bereth witneffe that hem up nom,
That hit is a tokene of here martirdom.
45 Tho
[655]
45
Tho this holy Preſt Beuno ihurd of al this fare,
Sore him of thou3t that he nadde I ben thare:
And for that hit was nou3t the tyme that ghe cholde ben dede,
Therfore a Predycacioun to the Peple he hath ifede.
And in his Predycacioun Ich wot he ſeyde this,
50 Hit ner nou3t tyme that the Mayde 3it partid fram Us,
Ac bende wolde that 3he cholde herafter libbe longe,
And wel fervy Crift, mede to ondirfonge.
Therfore ich 30u bidde, that 3e bidde with Me,
To oure Lord Ihu Crift that is fo hende and fre,
55 That he us fende to day a party of his Grace,
And arere this Mayde to lyve in this Place.
The heved to this Body this holy Preſt gan don
And thorw3 his Love and here, that Mayde aros anon.
Ever therafter aboute here Nekke was as they hit were a Threde
60 In tokenyng of the marterdom that 3he was onfo dede.
Whyter thing ne my3te be than the Threde was.
65
The Peple feyde for joye alle Deo gratias
Thorw3 Beuno his rede, abyte fuththe 3he nom,
And ladde fwyth hard lif and good Nonne bycom.
Beuno in a tyme to here feyde tho,
Wonfred, Ihu Crift it wole that we to party ato.
For into another Contre nede ich mot wende,
And there nedis to dwellin to my lyves end.
Ech 3er thou moſt ſende fom preſaunt, ich the telle,
70 And what thou wolt me fende caft hit in the Welle.
Of that thou doft therinne ne drede the ri3t nougt,
That hit ne chal thorw3 Goddes grace, to me ben well ibrou3t.
And after this, Vij 3er hennes, thou chalt fare,
And thy lyf dayis enden Ich wot ellefwhare.
75 And loke in thyne lyve that thou love Chaftede,
For nedes ich moſt henne no long ne man ich her be.
At the Welle I of fpake the Mayde tho him brougte.
Suththe tornyd here azen and a Chefible him wrou3te,
By here my3t 3he hit made both good and ryche,
80 That nas in all the Londe no Chefible here ilyche.
Tho hit was iredy, thorw work of here honde,
In a whit Mantel the Chefible fhe hit wonde:
3he leyde hit in the Streme, that 3he ifonde ther,
And thorw3 Goddes grace the Strem hit forth ber,
85 Into that ilke felve ftede that Beuno woned tho.
And they hit was from the Well thritty myle and mo;
And therinne my3t wel I fe, how good Crift is,
And that hit was a Merakle eche man may wite, I wis.
After that the Vij 3er wer ibrou3t to ende,
90 Nede mofte Wonefred to other Stede wende.
And for Beuno the holy Preft hit had I feyd before,
Nede moft theſe wordis to foth ben I core.
Thennes for to wende 3he gan her dyзte I wis,
Into a fwythe wilde Stede that Veterat icleped is.
Bothe
[ 656 ]
95
Bothe Monkes and Nonnes this Mayde ifounde tho,
That ladden good lyve, and clene; fo ech man au3t to do.
Bulopius het the Abbot that here Mayfter was there,
Swythe moche he dede his Wille his Monkes for to lere.
A Modir hadde this Abbot that him to man bare,
100 Mayſter of the Nonnes Ich wot that 3he was thare.
By here ryzt name Men cleped here Eufebie
For moche 3he hatyed Sinne and loved Cortefie.
Therfore Women droug to here both for and ner,
For in alle the Londe 3he ne hadde no Per.
105 Thorw3 red of the Abot Wonefred to here droug
Eyther of other is Felechipe was tho glad inou3.
After that Euzebye partyd of this lyve,
Wonefrede dwelled in here Stede 3eres ten and fyve.
Mek 3he was, and of fayr Speche, and fwyth mylde of mode,
110 And thorw here holy Speche 3he brou3te Mony to Gode.
Suththe tho God fent his Grace, to Heven 3he gan wende,
Now Ihu for the love of Here, thedir us bringe at oure ende. Amen.
SINCE the printing off a great Part of this Book, I have feen (by the Favour of Roger Gale, Efq;
the worthy Son of a moft learned Father, the late Dean of York) another MS. Life of Wenefrede,
which was, I gueſs, taken out of Rob. Salop. but has none of his Preface, differs very much in many
Places, is much ſhorter, and leaves off entirely at the Death of Theonia; as does the old Engliſh Legend,
and this Life in Verfe, which I gueſs to be about 400 Years old. Some of whofe Words I have tried to
explain, but many more I underſtand not. According to this above-mentioned MS. Wenefrede's Day
is the 22d of June.
Abyte, Habit of a Nun.
Afcapye, to eſcape.
Ich, I.
Ilk, the fame.
Behet, promiſed.
Bidde, pray.
Byleven, to live.
Ch. for Sh. v. 31, 47.
Fare, go away.
Flen, to flee.
Fool, foul.
Gangon, went.
Libbe, live. The v was written like a b.
Myd, with.
I
3 for g, v. iii; for y, xxxii; for gh, ix; for s, xii.
3ern, carefully, diligently.
Het, was called.
Hende, gentle, good.
Hit, it.
I, added to a Word, makes it fignify no more than
it did before: Ifay, faw; iredy, ready; ifpringed,
fprinkled; ihurd, heard; idy3t, decked.
Nom, took; to nim is to ſteal.
Queint, neat, curious.
Nas, was not; nam, am not; nold, would not;
nyft, wift not; nadde, had not.
o for u, v. I.
Rebaudie, obfcene Talk.
Stede, Place.
Tho, when, and then.
They, altho'.
Wend, go.
Woned, dwelt.
Worth the wode, for, grew mad.
A FUNERAL
A FUNERAL
SER MON
UPON
Mr. NO BLE
2 SAMUEL, Chap. xII. Ver. 5.
And David's anger was greatly kindled againſt the man, and he ſaid
to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing
fball furely die.
A
FTER David had debauched the Wife, and killed the Husband, he
lay, for ought that appears, at leaſt ten Months in a profound Security;
and flept in Death and unrepented Sins, in Murder and Adultery, both
of them aggravated with the fouleft Circumftances thofe Sins can well
admit of. Where is the Man, that, in the Book of Pfalms, appears fo tender, that
he can hardly bear even his own weak Reaſonings, and the Diſorder of his own
Thoughts? The Man that was diſturbed by every little Breath of Wind, now fnores
upon the Top-maft in a Tempeft; as if light Offences, like light Sorrows, were loud
and querulous, and great and fearful Sins did ftupify and keep the Conſcience filent-
The Scriptures ſpeak fo kindly of this Prince, that People think he was only faulty
in the Matter of Uriah. That is not literally and exactly true, but it fignifies that
this was the great and laſting Blemiſh of his Life; and yet this Spot continued long,
without ſo much as his endeavouring to waſh it out by his Repentance and Confeffion;
and might perhaps have ftaid much longer on, had not God, in Mercy to him, fent
a holy Man to ſhew him this diſhonourable Stain, and ſhame him into an Acknowledg-
ment of that Sin; which, becauſe he had committed it in fecret, and had not fince
thought upon it, he might imagine God had forgotten, or had never ſeen it. He talks
of ſome that reaſoned at that rate (in the Pfalms) and he ſeems himſelf to have reaſoned
little better, if we may gueſs of it by this ftrange Negligence and Infenfibility, in which
he lay fo long, and flept fo foundly. From this moft dangerous Security it pleaſed
God, at length, to awaken him, not with his Thunder, but a ftill and gentle Voice
uttered by Nathan, as if the coming on his Heart too angry and quick, might have
confounded and diſmayed him quite. He tells him of an Act of huge Oppreffion,
Cruelty, and Injuſtice, committed by a rich and powerful Man upon his
poor and
helpleſs Neighbour; who, being to entertain a Stranger-Gueft, fpared his own Flocks
and Herds, which were without Number or Diſtinction, and would needs kill the
fingle Lamb, that was the whole Stock and Treaſure, and Delight of his poor Neigh-
bour: And when David heard this, His anger was greatly kindled against this rich
man, and he ſaid to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing
fball furely die; i. e. he is worthy of Death, or deferves to die: For the Law was not fo,
that Theft or Violence, though pitilefs and cruel, fhould be punished with Death;
but the guilty Party was to reftore fometimes two-fold, fometimes four, fometimes five,
and
4 R
658
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
and feven, according to the Quality of the Thing or Creature ftolen by him. But here,
the Infolence and want of Pity joined to the violent Injuftice of taking away a Crea-
ture that was all the Eſtate, and all the Pleaſure of this poor Man, raiſed his Offence,
and David's Anger, to fuch a Pitch, that he expreffes rather what fuch a Crime de-
ſerved, than what the Law would puniſh it with. Let us therefore fee, what Uſes we
may make of this Relation, and the Judgment David paffed on this Occurrence. And
firſt, we may obferve, that he altogether condemns the Injustice and the Cruelty of this
rich Man; and, fecondly, we may fee, that the Way to pass a true Judgment on any
Occaſion, is to be one's felf wholly difintereſted, and to remove the Cauſe to another
Perfon: Which was the Method Nathan here took, to bring David to a Senfe and
Acknowledgment at firſt, and then to the Condemnation and Repentance of his Sin.
First, The Cruelty and Injuftice of this rich Man is here condemned: As the Lord
liveth, the man that hath done this thing fhall furely die, or is worthy of Death; and
he fhall restore fourfold, because he had no pity. The Rich are Mafters of more than the
Poor are; but the Poor have as much Right to what they have as the Richeſt can
have, and therefore it is equally unjuſt to take from either; but becauſe a little taken
from the Poor, who have but little, leaves them quite deftitute and naked, the fame
Injustice done to them is raiſed to Cruelty, becauſe they fuffer more by it, which
would be Injuſtice only, were the Party injured rich. Laws indeed cannot well confider
this, becauſe they have no refpect to Perfons, nor confider Men as good or bad, rich or
poor, high or low, but as lawful Poffeffors of their Goods, whether more or lefs; and
therefore they regard not what is left, but what is loft; nor how able a Man is to bear
his Loffes, but the Right he had to keep his own. But all theſe Things come into
Confideration, when private People judge of Matters of Fact; and though no Circum-
ftances can make Injuſtice more unjuſt, yet they add Hardſhip and Sufferings, and
make Injuſtice more or lefs cruel; and becauſe the Malignity of Offences does moſt
eſpecially conſiſt in the Miſchief that is fuffered by them, a Man will always be more
ready to condemn a Violence offered to the Poor, than to the Rich, becauſe the Poor
are more miſchieved by it, and fuffer more by fuch Injuſtice, and becauſe our Pity will
confider what is left more than what is loft. So that had this rich Man in the Parable
taken away a Lamb with the fame Violence from a rich Neighbour, with which he
took it from his poor one, he had committed the fame Injuftice that he here did; but
that Injustice had not been fo cruel nor fo faulty, becauſe not ſo hard and mischievous.
This muſt not be ſo miſtaken, as if it were a leſs Sin to rob the Rich than it is to rob
the Poor; for the Sin of Injustice is the fame, and confifts of depriving a Man of
what is his by Right; but that he who robs the Poor adds great Cruelty to his In-
juſtice, which is another Sin. But in this, as generally in all other Injuſtices com-
mitted by the Rich againſt the Poor, there was alfo Infolence and much Oppreffion.
Theſe are great Temptations, and always in the Way of powerful wealthy People,
who, if they alſo happen to be hard or covetous, do ſeldom miſs of falling under them.
The Pride and Lordlineſs of great Men makes them fufficiently negligent of all the
Forms of Juftice; but when the Love of Money alſo takes them, then are they
always ready for Oppreffion. Now every body fees the Wickedneſs of this, that
they who are rich ſhould ſpare themſelves, and feed upon the Poor, and they
who are Powerful fhould opprefs the Helpleſs. All Power is to be exerciſed to the
Good and Profit of Mankind; that's the Power of God, and all that would be like
him; the Power of the Devil is ftill employed in doing Miſchief, and whoever fo
uſes his Power, is imitating that bad Spirit, and perverting the Means provided by
God for the Benefit of the World. "Tis a ftrange Thing that great and wealthy Peo-
ple ſhould not have more Regard to Juſtice than other Folks, becauſe they are ſo
much greater Gainers by it; they have more to lofe, and have confequently more
preſerved and fecured to them by Law and Juſtice than other People have, and
therefore
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
659
1
therefore ſhould, of all things in the World, honour and keep them moft ex-
actly. For what would become of all their Wealth and Greatnefs, if the Poor,
ſetting them before them for Example, ſhould think of diſpenſing for a while with
Law and Juſtice, and fall to forcing of their Flocks and Herds, and drive them to
their Cottages? So that if neither Juftice, Generofity, nor Pity will reftrain Men
from invading others Rights, and oppreffing the Poor, their very Gratitude to the
Laws, and the Fears of other People's being as regardleſs of Juftice as themſelves,
might do it. Theſe People ſhould confider, that by fuch Violence and Oppreffion
they overthrow their own Security, and undermine the very Ground they ftand upon;
for if Law and Juſtice ſhould not ftill be uppermoft, what could fecure their Riches
and their Honours? How would they be diſtinguiſhed from the Crowd of poor and
common People? Oppreffion therefore is a very hateful Sin, becauſe. it abuſes the
Power that is given for the Security and Benefit, to the Miſchief, of Mankind, juft
contrary to the Purpoſe and Defign of God in placing it in their Hands; and very
ungrateful in neglecting That, which only can fecure and preferve them; and
and very
blind withal, in fhewing the Way to others, to break up all Incloſures, deftroy Pro-
perty, and lay all Things common, and bring Men back to a State of War; for all
this Injustice and Oppreffion do in Effect and Truth. But the Offence of this rich
Oppreffor in the Parable is alfo aggravated, by confidering the Affection the poor
Man had for his fingle little Creature, and the Tenderneſs with which he cheriſhed
it. His Lofs was raiſed by the Value he had ſet upon it, whether wifely or no; and
Grief is always proportioned to what we ourſelves think we lofe, and not to the
Reaſon or Opinion of other People. Juftice, indeed, can take no Notice of this,
becauſe that Fancy (which is under no Rule) is the Mother of ſuch Affections, and
becauſe no private Eſteem, or Love, adds any true Worth to Objects in the Confidera-
tion of the Publick: But private Reaſon will fee, that the more we love any thing,
the greater Pain it is to part with it; and therefore that he who knowingly deprives
another of what he values highly and loves tenderly, does certainly do him more
Miſchief, and occafions him greater Sorrows, than the bare Lofs would do, without
that Kindneſs and Affection for it. This is the Cafe of an unjuſt and pitilefs Op-
preffion fuppofed in the Parable, and condemned by David prefently, as it needs
muſt be by every body elſe that confiders things rightly. All Men would fay, that
fuch an Act deſerved great Puniſhment. Let us fee, in the next Place, to the
Thing intended by this Parable, the Matter of Uriah the Hittite, whether that
were any thing better: The Husband was honourably employed in fighting for his
King and Country, and the King in the mean time corrupts his Wife; and to enjoy
her quietly and without Diſturbance, contrives his Death, by ſetting him in the
Place of Danger, and then deſerting him ſo that he muſt needs perifh. David is,
in this Parable, the rich Man that had many Flocks and Herds, becauſe he had many
Wives and Concubines: Uriah is the poor Man, who had but one, whom he loved
moſt tenderly, i. e. Bathsheba his Wife. The Stranger-Guest that came unto the
rich Man, was the new Fire that was kindled in David's Bofom, the unlawful Paf-
fion he conceived for Bathsheba, that vagrant Luft that came and took up its Reſt
and Habitation with him; the Entertainment of this Traveller, was the Satisfaction
of this Appetite. The Iniquity was, that he fpared to take of his own Abundance,
and needs would rob Uriah of his fole and fingle Treafure, on which he had placed
his Heart, and with whom he had lived moſt happily. The Murder of Uriah is
not touched on in the Parable, but it is in the Application, as an Effect of his un-
lawful Paffion; and indeed it is a frequent Effect of fuch criminal Engagements;
People are fo befotted as to think of faving themſelves from Shame or Punifh-
ment, or both, by venturing upon other Wickedness, equal at leaſt, and ſometimes
greater than the principal and firſt. Our Courts of Juſtice fee thefe Reaſonings and
theſe
660
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
theſe Conſequences often; that's the Security that Sin continually propoſes; this
Crime will fave you from the Puniſhment of that; if you would not endure the
Diſhonour of Whoredom, you muſt ſtrangle the Infant; if you would not be ac-
counted a Robber, and treated as fuch, you muſt make ſure Work, and kill the
Paffenger; if you are falſe to your Husband's Bed, and fear his Vengeance, or if you
like another Partner in the Way of Marriage, the Way is open to your Eſcape and
Satisfaction by many fecret Inftruments of Death and Diſpatch: Thefe Advices
meet our Obſervations frequently, and People's Fear counfels them as fatally as
their keeneſt Rage and Anger. Luft is a very blind impetuous Paffion, and as it does
itſelf always miſtake its Object, and fix on what is forbidden by Reaſon, as well as
God's Command, fo it does truly make Men think fo fillily, imagine fo vainly, reaſon
fo untowardly, and contrive ſo weakly, and fall into fuch abfurd Commiffions, that
hardly any other Paffion equals it in Folly and Miſcarriage: But, above all, 'tis fruit-
ful of wicked Devices, and takes moſt deadly Reſolutions, either to ſecure its finful
Pleaſures, or revenge its Slights and Diſappointments. And it were well if People,
who are apt enough to remember the Fall of David into Murder and Adultery (to
keep themſelves a little in Countenance) would profit themſelves a little more of his
Example, and remember how this Murder followed this Adultery, and how eaſily
and commonly one Sin feems to call for another, without intending any fuch Matter.
David (one may well prefume) having in an unwary Hour diſcovered and fallen in
Love with Bathsheba, intended and defired only to fatisfy that unlawful Paffion; but
when he had done that, ſhe fent him Word in a little time, that their adulterous
Theft could not lie long concealed from the Eyes of all the World, by Tokens not
to be avoided: Her Huſband was in the Camp, and therefore David fends immedi-
ately for him, in order, by this Vifit, to cover both their Shame and Sin; but the Man
was obftinate, and refolved not to fee his Wife, and gave fuch a Reaſon for it, in the
x1th Ch.and 11th Ver, that might have ſhamed a noble and virtuous Prince to Death:
But David was not now the Man he uſed to be, his Soul was now debaſed to the laſt
Degree, and he betook himſelf to Shifts unworthy of a Man of Honour, or com-
mon Honeſty: He fell fo low as to make Uriah drunk, thinking that in the Rage, or
the Forgetfulneſs of Wine, he might have haftened home; but nothing moved him
from his Purpofe, and therefore David refolved upon his Death, which he effected
in the Manner related in the x1th Chapter, offering up the Life of a brave Soldier, to
his vile Love, and to the Fears of a Diſcovery. Thus you fee how one Sin engages
in another; and I believe 'tis rarely known, that the adulterous Falfhood of a Wife
or Huſband ends in that fingle Injury. And therefore though the principal Deſign of
this Parable was, to ſet forth the great Injuſtice of Adultery itſelf, yet fince it is ſo fre-
quently attended with other Miſchiefs, and was in David's Cafe in particular, it may
not have been out of the way to have reminded you of the uſual Confequences of
giving way to fuch unlawful Affections. Let us fee a little to the Original of theſe Mif-
chiefs, and to the Fountain of theſe corrupt Streams. I do not intend to infiſt much
upon God's firſt Peopling the World with two Perfons only, and they both of them
at full Age; nor on his Preſervation of four Women, each to her Husband only,
from the Flood, when the World was to be peopled a fecond time, and after 1500
Years Experience. Thoſe are unanswerable Proofs of God's intending one Man for one
Woman, whatever Remiffions he might afterwards be pleaſed to make of this prima-
ry Appointment. Theſe Inſtances are eſpecially directed againſt the Multiplicity of
Wives; which though it were allowed, yet would Adultery be never the leſs injurious,
becauſe it is invading another's Right; and in Countries where Men think they have
a Right to many Wives, and actually marry many (in their Way) they think them-
felves as much injured and as much diſhonoured, when any one of them is falfe or
corrupted,
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
661
was,
corrupted, as others do when their fole and fingle Choice (in Chriſtian Countries) for-
fakes her Marriage-Bed, or Loyalty: So that had Uriah violated any one of David's
many Wives, it had been as much Adultery as David's was with Bathsheba, his
only one. The Injury had been the fame to David with refpect to that particular
Wife, and to the Children born of her, that it was to Uriah. The Difference
that David fhewed a more extraordinary unbridled Fury, that was not to be kept, it
feems, in any Bounds; a fearful Degree of Looſeneſs, amidſt fuch Liberties as Cuſtom
had indulged to Eaſtern Princes! But nothing lawful pleaſes Men given up to that
mad Paffion. Let us fee to the Injuries of Adultery, in a few Words, without
concerning ourſelves with more or fewer Wives permitted to one Man. First, That
Union of Affection, without which Marriage is the greateſt Burden in the World,
is utterly broken off; that which every one defires, expects, and folemnly contracts
for, is hereby loft: There is no fuch Thing as Love without Fidelity. When either
Party once grows falſe, the utmoſt Good that is to be expected, is but a formal cold
Civility, a Thing that no one values where fincere Affection is both due and looked
for. I ſpeak not now of what the giddy, careleſs, covetous, ambitious People do; but
'tis fure that wife confidering People, who think of being eafy under Marriage, will
never hope to be ſo without both loving and being beloved of their Partner, which is
impoffible to happen where either of them proves falſe; and therefore to corrupt the
Partner of one's Bed, does apparently deftroy that Happineſs that every honeſt one
propoſes and expects to find in Marriage, and thereby does the greateſt Injury he can.
The Affection of the Mind it is, that beft difcharges the Duty of each Relation;
and therefore he who alienates that Affection, hinders the Duty often from being dif-
charged at all, but always takes away the Joy and Comfort of it, and pays the Rela-
tion with meer ſhew and Ceremony. Thus it is with Children and their Parents,
Maſters and Servants, Prince and Subject; perfuade them not to love each other, and
they will very ill, if at all, difcharge their feveral Duties: But above all Relations in
the World, 'tis fo eſpecially with Man and Wife; take off the Affection there, and
all its Pleaſure and Comforts are at an End: All that is left, is Burden and Misfor-
tune.
This fhews us, that Adultery troubles the Peace of human Life, and ſeparates
the cloſeſt Union and Society, and is as miſchievous as any other Crime whatever.
Secondly, Married People have fuch a Propriety in each the other's Perſon, that it is not
to be communicated: They are ſo much each other's, that they are not properly their
own, and much leſs can they be any one's befides; even the Conſent of both Parties
can give no Right to any Third, to either's Perfon; they have fo ftipulated and con-
tracted with each other for the Power of each other, that no After-confent can part with
it. So that had Uriah been confenting to Bathsheba, and the herſelf had gone willing-
ly to David, the Man and Woman had done an Act void in itſelf, and David had
been notwithſtanding guilty of Adultery; becauſe the firſt Contract took away all fu-
ture Power of making the like with any other, whilft they who made it lived: That
alone diffolves the Contract, which, had it been fuppofed, would have hindered it
from being made, i. e. Falfhood and Looſeneſs. And 'tis upon this Ground alone,
that human Laws have any Power to diffolve Matrimonial Bonds, that were lawfully
made at firſt: No Convenience nor Inconvenience is to come into Confideration, but
Virtue only; if neither Party hath forfeited the Right they had to each other, by
giving themſelves into the Power of any other Perfon, there can be no Divorce or
Diffolution of that Bond. This fhews that the Right which reſults from the Matri-
monial Contract is ftronger, if it may be, than any other Right whatever, being
unalterable, and never to be transferred, but by the Death of either Party. Now as
great as the Right is, fo great is the Wrong done by Adultery, which is the Invafion
and Subverfion of it; and therefore 'tis a mighty Piece of Injustice that is done by theſe
4 S
unwarrantable
662
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. N O BL E.
unwarrantable Liberties; 'tis robbing Men of what is given them in the firmeſt and
moſt folemn Manner that can be, by all the Laws of God and Man. Thirdly, This
Injuſtice draws after it many more Injuftices, by the Confufion and Diſorders it occa-
fions in Mens Families, by bringing in fpurious Children, and caufing Men to be-
ſtow their Affection, Care and Pains, in cultivating Plants that belong not to them,
and leaving them the Fruits of all their Labours and Inheritance, which is to the
Wrong alfo of thoſe who are the true Heirs. I mention not here the Shame and Grief
(which are alſo great Injuries) that theſe Violations of the Marriage-Bed occafion, not
only to the injured Party, but to all the innocent Relations, who are thereby covered
with Confufion. Enough is faid to fhew, that the corrupting another's Wife or Huf-
band is a great Piece of Injuſtice, and an Offence equally mischievous to Mankind, with
any other; and therefore to be equally condemned with the pitilefs, unjuſt Oppref-
fion of the rich Man in Nathan's Parable, taking away the fingle Treaſure and De-
light of his poor Neighbour. The Love that a good and virtuous Man is prefumed to
have for his Wife, anſwers to the Fondneſs the poor Man here had to the Creature he
had cheriſhed and brought up fo tenderly; the Right each had to what he loved, is the
fame. Proportioned to the Love is the fuppofed Concern and Grief a Man would
have, to have the Object of it torn away from him by Violence, or feduced by the as
violent Temptations of Riches, Honours and great Pleaſures, to the Arms of a Stranger.
This Reſemblance is enough to make the Parable intelligible and applicable; and he
who would condemn the cruel Robbery of this rich Oppreffor, would as certainly
condemn the adulterous Violation of Uriah's Bed. The Injustice and the Cruelty
were equally great in both. Nathan defigned by one to ſhadow out the other; and
David fays of himſelf, in the rich Man, The man that hath done this thing deferves
to die. The Jewish Law did not, as we have feen, condemn fuch Theft to Death,
but to ample Reſtitution; 'twas an Excefs of David's Pity and Diſpleaſure, that mo-
ved him to pronounce this cruel Oppreffor deſerved to die. But the Jewish Law did
exprefly adjudge the Adulterer and the Adultereſs to Death; and this obtained to our
Saviour's Days, as appears by the malicious and deſigning Jews bringing before him a
Woman taken in Adultery, whom Mofes in his Law commanded to be ſtoned: And
for ought one knows, the Decifion of our Saviour might determine Chriſtian Law-
givers in future Times, to inflict a leſſer Puniſhment than Death upon Adulterers; for
tho' fome Chriſtian Nations have puniſhed the Offence with Death, yet generally it
has been otherwiſe; and I think, no Nation does at this Day, in the Chriſtian World,
purſue that Crime to that Extremity. Not that the Chriftian Doctrine gives any En-
couragement to fuch Liberties, for it has them in the greateſt Abhorrence in the
World; the Scriptures declare againſt them in moſt ample Terms, denounce the
Wrath of God againſt them, and tell us God will judge Adulterers, and utterly ex-
clude them from Heaven, without particular Repentance; and the Diſcipline of the
Church purſued this Sin with fuch Severity in this World, that one may fee they held
no Sin to exceed it in Wickedneſs. Nor can we find that it is leſs pernicious to the
Peace and Quiet, the Order and good Government of Mankind, than other Offences
which are conſtantly adjudged to be worthy of Death. The Confufion of Families
does not, indeed, ſeem to be ſo miſchievous to other Nations as to the Jews, where the
nice Diſtinction of Tribes was to ferve, as to other Purpoſes, fo efpecially to the furer
Knowledge and Diſcovery of the promiſed Seed, the Meffiab of the Tribe of Judah,
which Certainty would be deſtroyed by the Indulgence of fuch promifcuous Conjun-
ctions; and therefore to guard againſt ſuch Miſchief, the Jews were deterred by the
Fears of certain Death to both the guilty Parties. The faithful Chaſtity of the
married Couple reſembling alfo the pure Service of one God, as the Pollutions of
adulterous Mixtures did the Worſhip of many Deities among the Gentiles, might alſo
be
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
663
be a Reaſon, why God, to fhew his Jealoufy, and the Abomination he had Idolatry in,
might puniſhAdultery with Severity, fomewhat beyond what other Lawgivers thought fit.
Excepting theſe two things, it will be hard to find a Reaſon why Adultery ſhould be
puniſhed with Death among the Jews, and not among the Chriftians; or rather, why
it ſhould not be puniſhed with Death among the Chriſtians, as it was among the
Jews. If our Saviour's Decifion hath inclined any one to condemn this Offence with
leſs Severity than before, 'tis a Miſtake that hath fhewn more Reſpect than Judgment:
For certainly our Saviour does not there determine as a Magiftrate, for then Adultery
ſhould deſerve no Puniſhment at all, but to go home and fin no more, a thing that no
body will venture to fay. But thus it was, they who came to him with this Woman,
came tempting him, that they might, from his Anfwer, have fomewhat to accuſe
him of. The Law of Mofes puniſhed Adultery with Death; but the Romans, in
whoſe Power they were, would not allow them to put that Law in Execution: If
Chriſt therefore adjudge the Adulterefs to Death, then they delate him to the Roman
Magiſtrate as feditious, and one that would excite the Jews to affert their Liberty, and
execute the Laws of Mofes, as they ſhould: If, according to his wonted Clemency, and
as they expected, he fhould judge this Offence not to be worthy of Death, then would
they repreſent him as a Blafphemer of the Law of Mofes to the People, and fo create
him Ill-will on that Part, and Danger enough from fuch as were nicely jealous of the
Honour of their Law-giver, and fate very uneafy under the Romans, who fufpended
the Execution of what Laws they pleaſed that related to the Publick. Our Saviour,
aware of their Defign, determines the Matter fo as to avoid offending them on either
Hand: He undertakes not to judge whether Mofes's Law were reaſonable or not,
nor whether the Jews fhould execute fuch Law in Oppofition to the Romans, or reſt
content with the Sufpenfion it was under from their Force; but he puts their Zeal up-
on a Trial that would cover them with Confuſion: He that is without fin among
you, let him firſt caſt a ſtone at her. You private Men come here to me, a private
Man, to determine a Cauſe already determined by Mofes, as to what might be done,
and by the Romans, as to what is to be done. 'Tis well, perhaps, for moſt of you,
that fuch a Law as this is tied from hurting you; but however, if your Zeal be offend-
ed at this Reſtraint, and you think that Chaſtity and Virtue are hereby too much dif-
couraged, let them who are intirely innocent take upon them the Place and Office of
Witneffes, as Mofes appointed, and let them caft the first stone at her. This is a plain
Way to avoid the Snare that was laid for him, and cannot be the Decifion of a Law-
giver; for publick Magiſtrates do not uſe to acquit guilty People, for the Faults of
Accuſers and Witneffes; becauſe guilty People are puniſhed for their Guilt, and be-
cauſe they deſerve it, which they may do as well when their Accufers are equally guil-
ty with them, as when they are altogether innocent. If unoffending People only
muſt be Witneſſes and Executioners, Offenders would be, generally, out of Danger.
And as to what our Saviour ſays of the Woman herſelf, when left alone with him,--
Neither do I condemn thee, go and fin no more; it only fignifies, that he would not take
upon him the Office of a Magiftrate, who was a private Man. But that which be-
longed to him, as a Prophet and Servant of God, that he performed, and that was
to bid her repent, and live in Chaſtity for the future. So that from what our Saviour
ſays on this Account, no Relaxation of the Jewish Law can be concluded; he ſeems
to ſay nothing to that Matter. But what he ſays to her, he ſays to all who have been
guilty of the like Offence, Neither do I condemn you, but go, repent, and fin no more;
and this he ſpeaks, not with refpect to any national Laws, (which may puniſh this
Offence with Death, if they fee fit, or with a leffer Puniſhment) but with refpect to
the Laws of God, and to the Judgment of the other World. The Laws of God do
certainly
664
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. N O BL E.
certainly adjudge Adulterers to everlaſting Death, (as we have feen before) that is the
ſtanding Rule of Juftice; but Mercy, like the Roman Power, ſuſpends the Execution
of it; and Chriſt, in the mean time, interpofes Pardon upon Conditions, Go and
fin no more: This Goodneſs of God is to lead Men to Repentance. I do not condemn
thee, faith our Lord to the Adulterefs; but neither doth he acquit her, i. e. with rela-
tion to temporal Puniſhment from the Laws; but he condemns Adultery, every where,
till Men repent of it, and mend; and then it is, ---- Neither do I condemn thee; or, to
encourage thee to leave this wicked Practice, Repent and fin no more, and I (to whom
all Judgment is committed by the Father) will not condemn thee for what is
paſt.
And this was the Condition upon which the Prophet fo foon pronounced
the Pardon of David upon Confeffion of his Sin: I have finned, faith David, v. 13.
againſt the Lord; and Nathan ſaid to David, The Lord alfo hath put away thy fin,
thou shalt not die. Is it not very happy for us, that we have to deal with God rather
than Man? The man that hath done this thing fhall furely die, fwore David, prefently,
upon the hearing his Offence: The Man that hath done this thing ſhall live, and ſhall
not die, faith God immediately, upon Confeffion and Repentance. Who would be
backward to confeſs their Sins to God, who knows them better than ourſelves, and
has more Mercy for us, than either Reaſon or the Laws will let us have for one ano-
ther? It has not been amifs obferved, that David, in this Condemnation, was the
Voice of the Law, awarding Death immediately to Sin; and Nathan the Voice of
the Goſpel, proffering Life and Pardon to the Confeffion and Repentance of it. And
this is certain in our Lord's moft merciful and gracious Covenant, that not a Soul who
will apply this Remedy ſhall die: For as theſe horrible Offences committed by Da-
vid, make him a fad Example of the Weakneſs and wicked Difpofition of human
Nature, without the Grace of God preventing and affifting us, and evermore concur-
ring with our greateſt Care and Watchfulneſs; ſo the Forgiveneſs of them in this fpee-
dy Way, is to teach us never to defpair of God's Mercies, provided we confefs our Sins
with all Contrition and Humility, repent in earneſt of them, and forſake them.
Other Uſes remain to be made of theſe Words, but I have been too long already
for one Time: And the Application is ſo eaſy, that I dare fay I am prevented in it.
I cannot have been ſpeaking, all this while, of David's Adultery and Murder, but
you muſt needs have had your Heads filled with the dreadful Inftance of them both,
in a much meaner Man, whom the Juſtice of God hath overtaken, in your Sight; and,
by the righteous Sentence of a moft excellent and upright Magiſtrate, hath called to
Death with Infamy in this World, and to appear before his terrible Tribunal in the next,
to anſwer for thoſe crying Sins. My Heart was full of Pity, and my Eyes of Tears,
upon that Day; but was glad to hear my People flocked in fo great Numbers to that
Execution; and glad it happened on a Day, when Bufinefs and Mens Trade
and Livelihood would cauſe them to refort that Way, as well as Curioſity and fad
Concern. May God, faid I, give to that great Offender, the Grace of true Contrition
and Repentance firſt, and then the Wiſdom and the Happineſs of fo expreffing it by
proper Words and Geſtures, that every fingle Creature of that Multitude may reap
ſome Benefit by that Example! Strike, Lord, upon the Hearts of every Man and Wo-
man in that great Affembly, that they may find thofe Feelings and Affections, that
are fuitable to their Condition and their ſpiritual Wants, raiſed in them. I know not
if my Prayers were heard; but you could hardly fee that Sight, and know the Story
that occafioned it, without revolving in your Minds a Multitude of Thoughts that
would moſt eaſily rife upon it. You could not, I am fure, come home, without
confidering what a Train of Miſchiefs a lawleſs and unbridled Luft draws after
it, how great Misfortunes generally attend the Marriages which Riches and Conveni-
ence make, without a due Regard to Love, or to the Virtue, Health and Temper,
and
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
665
and good Qualities, or Fame and Reputation of the Parents, or the Partners: How
fhort the Paffage is from an Indifference to a Slight, from a Slight to a Contempt, and
from Contempt to Hatred, of a Wife or Hufband; and confequently, how much Care,
Good-nature, and Diſcretion, will be needful to preferve and cheriſh that Affection
in one's own, and in each other's Heart, that is to make the married State eaſy and hap-
py. How many thouſands make their Lives moſt miferable, for want of that In-
dulgence, that Allowance and Forgiveneſs of each other's Indifcretions, Overſights,
and Faults, which they are ready, in Good-nature and Good-breeding, to give to all
the World befides! Nor fhould I mention this, but that I fee 'tis in the Power of a
world of little trifling Accidents to difengage and alienate the Hearts of Wives and
Huſbands from each other, which often ends in fcandalous and finful Liberties on
one or other Side, and fills the Houſe with Infamy and Mifery; and frequently pro-
vokes the Wrath of God to fhew itſelf in fome moft exemplary Vengeance. You
could not help obferving to each other, whilft you were talking on the Way, how
fad a thing it was to fee a lively well-looked Man cut off untimely, in a Moment, in
the full Strength and Vigour of his Age, defeating all his Parents and Relations
Hopes, and Cares, and Charges in his Education, and filling them inſtead with Shame
and Sorrows inexpreffible, and never ceafing. Who can conceive thoſe Sorrows?
What but Death can put an End to them? And this occafioned by another's Death,
the Murder of an innocent unhappy Man, cut off untimely in a Moment alfo, and
God knows how prepared for fuch a fudden Call to Judgment; filling another Houſe
and Family with equal Sorrows alfo, but yet without the Shame, which makes that
Cup abundantly leſs bitter; and both theſe People brought to their untimely Ends by
the means of a whorish woman, whofe houfe was literally the way to hell, going down to the
chambers of death, Prov. vII. 27. What was your Mind, when all theſe Thoughts
came crowding on together? You did not, I dare fay, believe the fhameleſs falfe Adul-
tereſs, who forfook the guide of her youth, and forgot the covenant of her God, was any
ways lefs faulty, or leís odious in his Sight, than he who ſuffered Death for murdering
of her Husband, altho' the Laws have not as yet overtaken her; which ſhe has Reaſon
to fear they will ſome time or other do, by fome new Crime, unleſs the Grace of God
make her Converfion and Repentance as exemplary, as her perjurious Violation of her
Marriage Vows hath made her infamous. And as you could not efcape making theſe
Reflections, or the like, upon that Sight, fo I will hope you made the proper Ufe of
them; calling your own Ways to Remembrance, and either thanking God for his re-
ſtraining Grace, that hath given you a purer Heart and cleaner Hands, and kept you
entire from thoſe Defilements; or praifing him for having delivered you from the Pow-
er of fuch impure Habits, as tended naturally, and might have brought you eafily in-
to the like abominable Commiffions with this unhappy Pair: Or begging earneſtly
the Affiftance of his holy Spirit, to refcue you immediately from the Captivity of
Sin, in which you are ſtill held, and forming thereupon the ſtrongeſt and fincereſt
Refolutions of breaking off thofe wicked Courfes, avoiding that enfnaring Company,
retrenching that Exceſs of Meats and Drinks, abſtaining from thoſe joyous Feaſts of
Mufick, Song, or Dance, or any thing befides that you remember to have fanned or
fed thoſe Fires within, that have confumed your Virtue, and been at any time an
Occafion of your falling into Sin. Even Liberties that have ſometimes been innocent
to yourſelves, and are, and may be, always fo to others, muſt yet be ſhunned and
let alone by you, if you have found your Reaſon and Religion have been maſtered
by them. No one can ſafely meaſure his Strength either of Body or Mind, but by
Experience and Succefs; and therefore nothing can be innocent that hurts, no Ene-
my be held contemptible, that brings us into Bondage.
4 T
•
And
666
A Funeral SERMON upon Mr. NOBLE.
And as I hope you reaſoned thus, and made theſe Reſolutions for yourſelves, ſo I
muſt tell you, Friends, you are obliged to do, each for your Partners, for your
Children, your Relations, Servants and Dependants, and all for whom you are con-
cerned, in their diftinct Degrees and Meaſures. Give them good Inftructions, give
them good Examples; preferve your Intereſt with them by the former, and your
Authority over them by the latter. Never put it out of your Power to admoniſh
and reprove them for their Offences, for fear of being reproached with the like your-
felves. Say what you will, the Liberties they fee you take, will be the Leffons
they will fooneft learn, if Inclination lead that Way. I would I could tell what to
fay, to impreſs thefe things moft deeply on your Minds, or even to preſerve the Im-
preffions that are already made, by what you have heard and feen fo lately. I truſt
them to the Grace of God, and make an End, with Hope that when
hear us,
in his Name, pronounce thoſe two Commandments, Thou shalt do no Murder, and
Thou shalt not commit Adultery, you will pray with more Attention, and more Ferven-
cy, than uſually you do, Lord have Mercy upon us, and incline our Hearts to keep theſe
Laws.
you
THE
667
THE
Counſellor's
PLEA
FOR THE
DIVORCE of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.
T
To the READER.
HE following Plea is to be understood as written by a Gentleman of the Law,
very knowing in his own Profeſſion, but more converfant in Church-Writers
than Lawyers generally are, or need to be: This made him more careful to
obferve what became of the Bill of Divorce, which was lately brought into the
Houfe of Lords, on the Behalf of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.; and he ufed fuch Means as to
get to be prefent, and to hear whatever was faid for or againſt that Bill, from the bring-
ing it in, to the difmiffing it. We who were his Friends, and knew the Calmness and the
marvellous good Temper of the Man, were much furprized to find him return from Weſt-
minſter, one Night, in fuch a fretful ill Mood, that we could hardly get a good Look
from him, tho' he loved us all. At last he told us that the Bill of Divorce was thrown out;
and then we found the Occafion of his Sullenneſs, upon which we rallied him handſomly, and
provoked him, all we could, to tell us how things had gone. But all we could get from him,
was, "Learn to declaim, Friends, learn to declaim; mind not Reasoning clofe; nor be con-
"cerned for Confequences; get fome good Words in your Mouths, and uſe them often; Eyes,
"and Hands, and devout Shrugs, will do more Service than you think for." This put us
fo in mind of Prince Hamlet's way of Talking, in the Play, that we all of us burst into
Laughing, and brought our Friend into the fame Fit with us. But this Effect it had,
that when he was come to himself, he was perfuaded by the Company to make a Plea, up-
on fuch Topicks as he thought would have been proper for that Great Aſſembly, where the
Caufe was to be agitated: And we gave him a Fortnight to do it in, and then to bring it
and read it to us. This was a Way that half a Dozen of us ufed to take to perfect our-
felves in Pleading. Our Friend undertook the Taſk, and performed it in the following
Manner; but we never faw the Face of that excellent Man, after we parted with him;
a fudden Distemper put a fudden End to his Life, and to the Hopes he had raiſed, in all
that knew him, of becoming, one of the eminenteft Men of the Age. We found, by his
foul Copy, that he had added a good deal to what is here faid, and had fallen with fome
Sharpneſs upon the Antient Latin Church-Writers, tho' he had otherwife a very great
and true Respect for their Works; but this he had drawn a Scratch over, and ſo we have
left it out. Our Love to our Friend may make us fomewhat partial in his Favour,
and over-value his Performance; but nothing can make us believe, that it will not be
very acceptable to the Publick; nor binder us from hoping, that from hence it will be
feen, that fomething more was due to this unfortunate Pair than the common Pity.
THE
668
THE
CAS E.
I. G. D. without the Knowledge and Confent of his Father (then alive, but ac-
counted not of found Judgment) was, at the Age of Fifteen, by the Procurement and
Perfuafion of thofe in whofe Keeping he was, married, according to the Church Form,
to M. F. of the Age of Thirteen.
II. This young Couple was put to Bed, in the Day-time, according to Custom, and
continued there a little while, but in the Prefence of the Company, who all teſtify they
touched not one the other; and after that, they came together no more; the young
Gentleman going immediately Abroad, the young Woman continuing with her Parents.
III. G. D. after Three or Four Years Travel, return'd home to England, and
being follicited to live with his lawful Wife, refuſed it, and frequently and publickly
declar'd be never would compleat the Marriage.
IV. Fourteen Years have pass'd fince this Marriage-Ceremony was perform'd; and
each Party having (as is natural to think) contracted an incurable Averfion to each
other, is very defirous to be fet at liberty; and accordingly Application is made to
the Legiſlative Power, to diffolve this Marriage, and to give each Party leave, if
they think fit, to marry elſewhere.
The Reaſons againſt fuch Diffolution are,
First, That each Party was confenting to the Marriage, and was old enough to
give fuch Confent, according to the known Laws of the Kingdom; the Male being
Fifteen Years old, the Female Thirteen; whereas the Years of Confent are, by
Law, Fourteen and Twelve.
Secondly, They were actually married according to the Form prefcrib'd by the
Church of England; the Minifter pronouncing thofe folemn Words uſed by our
Saviour, Thoſe whom God has join'd, let no Man put afunder. They are therefore
Man and Wife both by the Laws of God and of the Land; and fince nothing
but Adultery can diffolve a Marriage, and no Adultery is pretended here, the Mar-
riage continues indiffoluble.
THE
66g
THE
PLEA.
My LORDS,
Intreat you to favour me whilſt I ſpeak a few Words to the Bill that is now
brought before you, notwithſtanding what I hear whiſpered about by the Peo-
ple that ſtand near me, that this is a Matter proper to the Clergy, and that we
are to acquiefce in the Judgment and Opinion of my Lords the Bishops, who
are agreed that fuch a Marriage as this is not to be diffolved. My Lords, the
Biſhops themſelves are (under Favour) not agreed upon this Matter, although the
Majority of the preſent ones is, as I hear, againſt the Diffolution of this Marriage:
But were they all here, and all unanimous in the Point, would that be a binding
Argument? I am a little aſham'd to hear Laymen ſay, that Cafes of this Nature fall
not properly under their Cognizance and Confideration, but are to be decided by the
Clergy only. There are no fuch Difficulties in the Cafe before us, as I apprehend
it; 'tis what we may all of us underſtand, and, I believe, we moſt of us do:
And to defer and yield intirely to Authority, where we are able to hear Reaſon and
to judge, is a Submiffion that is no more due, than, I dare fay, it is expected by
that Venerable Bench. I will therefore, with your Lordſhips Indulgence, ſpeak my
Mind in this Matter freely.
excep-
I hear it is faid, my Lords, that a Marriage that was once good and valid, is for
ever after that indiſſoluble, unleſs in the Cafe of Adultery. I wonder, by the way,
how they came to except the Cafe of Adultery; for tho' our bleffed Saviour has
ted the Cafe of Adultery, yet the Stream of Authority, the Generality of thoſe great
Men, whom we call the Fathers of the Latin Church, together with the Rabble of
Schoolmen and Commentators, have almoſt all to a Man denied the innocent Party
the Liberty of marrying again, altho' divorced from an adulterous Partner; and I
would fain know how much a Divorce is worth, above Six-pence, without leave to
marry again, if the injur'd Party pleaſes? But I only mention this, to let
ſhips fee, whither the Reverence of Authority alone, and great Names, may carry
thoſe who will be led tamely by them, and will not uſe the Reaſon and good Senfe
which God has given them.
your Lord-
I ask your Lordſhips Pardon for this Digreffion, and come to the Point. A Mar-
iage, we are told, is good, where the Parties concerned were at Age and Liberty to
confent, and actually confented, and were actually married by the Form preſcribed
in the Book of Common-Prayer. And fuch a Marriage, we are alfo told, is indiffo-
luble by the Law of God. I will not waſte the leaſt of your Lordſhips Time in need-
lefs Cavils, but take it for granted, that the Man now concerned was Fifteen Years
of Age, and the Woman Thirteen, which are Years of Confent by the Laws of the
Land: And that they were actually marry'd by the preſcribed Form.
But I deny
that the Marriage is therefore indiſſoluble by the Legiſlative Power of the Land, and that
for many Reaſons.
My Lords, The Years of Confent are not fix'd to Fourteen or Twelve either by
Nature, Reafon, or any Law of God; but purely and merely by the pofitive Laws of
the Land, which may change them to-morrow; and if they were changed to-day,
4 U
no
670
The Counſellor's PLEA for the
ment.
no Man in England would, I dare affirm it, be diffatisfied; it feems fo fenfelefs and
unreaſonable to give our Children the Power of difpofing of their Perfons for ever, at
an Age when we will not let them difpofe of Five Shillings, without Direction
and Advice. But I infift not upon that at prefent; the Law is already made, and I
confider it as fuch; but ftill it is but a Human Law, and the fame Power which de-
termines it to bind in the general, may, if it ſeem fitting, determine it not to bind in
this or any fuch particular Cafe; and that without Offence either to God or Man.
The Laws indeed muft fix upon a certain Time, or otherwife the Subject will want
Direction, and a Rule to go by: And let us take it for granted now, that the Time
fixed by the Laws is a reaſonable and fitting Time for 99 People in a Hundred; yet
if the Hundredth Perfon be aggrieved to Death, or worſe than Death, by fuch a Law,
what is the Impediment, what the Danger, what the Miſchief, of declaring the
Hundredth Perſon not to be bound by that Law? If it were poffible for Human Wif-
dom to foreſee all the Inconveniences and Miſchiefs that can 'arife, would not the Le-
giſlative Power provide a Remedy for all? Would it not make its Rules as comprehen-
five as it could, ſo that they might compriſe and take in all Cafes and Perfons poffible?
But this we find was never done, nor ever will be done: No Forefight is fufficient for
all Accidents. But there is room for After-thought; and a Power to cure the Evils
which it could not prevent, becauſe it could not forefee, is lodged in every Govern-
"Tis to that Power we have now recourfe: We pray Relief againſt a Law,
which however juſt and fitting it may be thought in itſelf, and beneficial to others,
binds Us to nothing but Mifery; and truly kills, according to the Letter. The Man
and Woman were at Age, according to the Law, but wanted that Maturity and For-
wardness of Age, which the Law fuppofes and requires in People of Twelve and Four-
teen, when it makes them capable of marrying at thofe Years. They gave Confent
indeed with their Tongues, and pronounced the folemn Words, by which they mutu-
ally delivered up themſelves each to the other, that is, they did as they were bid to
do, and faid juſt as the Parents and Prieſt commanded them to fay. But where was
the Confent of Heart? Where was the Knowledge and Underſtanding that is requi-
fite to the forming a Reſolution of this nature, and to the making fuch a folemn
Contract? My Lords, the Children were entirely paffive in the Matter, and very
obedient to the Orders of thoſe that governed them; and would have given away their
Fortunes and their Liberties, and every thing they had, had they been bid to do ſo,
in the fame manner. I may affirm, becauſe I have taken great Pains to be informed
of the Truth, that this young Couple came together to contract, and to confent to
Marriage, without ſo much as the Defire or Appetite of being married; without ſo
fo
much as knowing what it was they were to bargain and contract for: They confen-
ted to give the Uſe and the Dominion of their Bodies each to the other, as long as
they both ſhould live, without ſo much as underſtanding what they meant when they
faid fo; without fo much as an Ability of making good their Promiſes and Engage-
ments.
This, my Lords, is the Confent this Couple of young and thoughtleſs Creatures
gave; and this Confent the Church, it feems, infifts upon. The folemn Promife
was pronounced in folemn manner by the Prieft, and the Children were bid to fay
after him, and ſaid after him, and then the Knot was tied, that nothing can looſe but
Death. Is there any thing in the World fo like a Charm as this? My Lords, there
is not any Contract in the World but may be utterly diffolved, by the free Con-
fent of Parties, if without Prejudice to any Third. I like a Horſe that is in any
Man's Poffeffion, and he likes the Price I offer for it; we thereupon agree, and paſs
our Words each to the other: His Promiſe then gives me a Right to the Horſe, and
my Promiſe gives him a Right to the Price agreed upon. But in a little time we each
of us bethink ourſelves, and each diſlikes the Bargain he has made, and each´agrees
to
Divorce of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.
67x
{
to fet the other at his Liberty: I have not uſed your Horfe, nor have you gotten my
Money. Here the Contract is utterly diffolved by the Confent of Parties, and no third
Man is hurt thereby. Will any Man fay that we have done amiſs? Will any one
ſay that we have ſo much as broken our Word each to the other? The Word I gave
to him was to fecure his Bargain; the Word he gave to me was to fecure me mine.
If he diſlikes the Bargain, he gives me (as it were) my Word again; and ſo do I to
him; and then we are again at Liberty. My Lords, If we ſhould
My Lords, If we ſhould carry the Matter
farther yet, and to fecure the Bargain we ſeem at firſt ſo fond of, ſhould give our
Oath to each other, in Prefence of a great Company, and with what Solemnity
befides you will, yet I affirm, (and ſo do all the Cafuifts in the World, as I am told by
thoſe who know) I fay, my Lords, that I affirm, that if in this Cafe, after this folemn
Oath, we ſhould both of us freely conſent to break this Agreement off, and no body
elſe be hurt thereby, we ſhould neither of us be guilty of Perjury, or Breach of Oath:
Our Oaths were given to each other, to fecure the Promiſes that were made; and if
we, each of us, fee reafon to confent, and freely do confent, to releaſe each other of his
Promiſe, the Oath can lay no Obligation on us. I promiſed, and I ſwore I would perform
that Promiſe to him; he did the fame to me, but neither of us, after fome time, cared,
or required, to have fuch Promiſe made good to him; our Oaths muſt therefore follow
the Nature of our Promiſes; and when the Promife is releaſed, the Oath is fo alfo.
It may be we both of us did amiſs in calling God to Witneſs (as in an Oath Men are
prefumed to do) in an Affair of fo light Moment; I will not diſpute that now, but I
maintain that fuch an Oath obliges not, if the Promiſe, for whoſe Security the Oath
was given, be mutually releafed, and no body hurt thereby. My Lords, I appeal to
thoſe who underſtand theſe Matters, whether what I fay be not true.
?
Whence is it then, that the Marriage-Contract fhould be indiffoluble, when all
other Contracts, tho' confirmed with folemn Oaths, may be diffolved, if the contract-
ing Perfons agree to fuch a Diffolution, and no third Perfon fuffers by it? How comes
a Promiſe of this Nature to differ from all other Promiſes whatever? Oh, ſay the
Popish Cafuifts, it is becauſe this fame Matrimony is a great Sacrament: No, fay the
Proteſtant Divines with us, it is no Sacrament, but it is the Ordinance of God, infti-
tuted in Paradiſe, in the Time of Man's Innocence, and fignifies to us the myſtical
Union that is betwixt Chrift and his Church; and the Promiſe is made with all So-
lemnity, in the Prefence of God, in the Church, before the Prieft and all the Com-
pany, and confirmed with the Words of Chrift: And therefore a Conſent and Pro-
miſe made in fuch a folemn manner, can never be retracted or diffolved.
My Lords, I intend not to fay one Word againſt the Dignity of Marriage. But
I do not think that the Solemnity of Words, of Place, and Company, in which a Con-
tract is made, adds any Strength or Virtue to fuch Contract, or makes it more
obliging.
A Man indeed will certainly be more afhamed to break a Promiſe made at Church,
and before a great Company, than he will be to break fuch a Promiſe made to his
Friend alone, at his own Houſe. But is he more obliged in Conſcience to keep his
publick Promiſe than his private one? Will any honeſt Man ſay that? The Obliga-
tion therefore does not ariſe from the Solemnity of Words, and Place, and Company,
but from the free and voluntary Promiſe which a Man makes, and the Right he there-
by gives to another. The Scandal alfo and Offence that is given and taken by a Breach
of Promife, made in folemn manner, is indeed greater, than is occafioned by the
Breach of a Promiſe made in private: But the reafon of that is, becauſe more Peo-
ple know of it; for if the fame People were affured that fuch a Promife was indeed
made, altho' in private, they would as certainly condemn the Breach of it, as they
would, had it been made before them all, and they would be as much ſcandalized
at fuch a Breach, as if they had been Witneffes to the making the Promife: Which
}
is
672
The Counſellor's PLEA for the
is a Proof that a Man's Obligation to keep his Promiſe, arifes from his having freely
made it, and not from his having made it in fuch a Place, and before fuch a Company,
and in fuch a particular Form of Words.
The firſt Marriage that ever was made, was made without any Words at all, that
we know of, expreffing their Confent; and it was fo clandeftine, that there was not
fo much as a mortal Man by, no not a Prieſt to join them together: But God who
made them, brought the Woman to the Man, and inftructed them by Reaſon and
natural Principles, that they were made each for the other. There was Conſent of
Heart, and Union of Affections. But I infift not upon the Example; it is too fingular
to be a Rule. Years of Age are neceffary; and Confent, in exprefs Words, mutually
given and taken, is neceffary to make a Marriage-Contract good and valid.
This is the Ordinance of God, this is of divine Appointment, that one Man
and one Woman fhould freely and knowingly give Conſent to be each other's, to all
the Ends and Purpoſes of Matrimony, as long as they both ſhould live, and ſhould not
be allowed to give themſelves to any one's Ufe befides.
1
And all that Chrift added (if indeed he added any thing, or did any more than re-
vive it) to this original Inftitution was, That when either of the Parties brake their
Contract by Adultery, the innocent Party was at liberty to feparate from the faulty
one, and marry another, if it were thought fitting. Since therefore all that is abfo-
lutely neceffary to the making a Marriage-Contract, is, that a Male and Female,
who are at Age, and Liberty to confent, fhould actually conſent to give the Uſe and
Dominion each of their Bodies, to the other; and, exclufive of all others, to live to-
gether faithfully till Death parted them: Since this is fo, I do affirm, that Caius and
Caia, two Heathens, giving their Confent, in the Manner abovementioned, in their
Father's Parlour, are Man and Wife according to God's Ordinance; their Marriage is
as true, as good, and as innocent a Marriage, in the Sight of God, as the Marriage
of a Jew and Jewess, tho' both in Covenant with God, made before the High-
Prieſt himſelf, with all the Ceremonies you can imagine, and in what Form of Words
you will, before a hundred Witneffes, and at the Altar in the Temple of Jerufalem.
I am, my Lords, fo fatisfied of the Truth of what I fay, that I go on to ſay, with
all Affurance, that the Marriage-Contract of this Caius and Caia was as good, as
binding, and as innocent as the Marriage Contract of any Lord in this Affembly,
tho' folemnized in the Church of St. Paul's, according to the eſtabliſhed Form in the
Common-Prayer, by his Grace my Lord Archbiſhop of Canterbury himſelf, repeating
thoſe moſt facred Words of Chrift, Those whom God has joined, let no Man put afun-
der. And I averr, That God did as furely join Caius and Caia, when they con-
fented to become Huſband and Wife for Life, as he has joined any Couple elſe for theſe
Seventeen hundred and fifteen Years. So that I hope, my Lords, you will not fuffer
your Eyes to be dazzled with the Pomp and Glitter of great Words, and awful
Sounds, which fly before good Senſe, and vaniſh when you come to look into the
Reafon of Things.
Caius and Caia muft exprefs their Confent in Words and Signs appointed by
the Laws of their Country; and muſt be married by the Perfons fet apart for ſuch
Service, according to the Rites and Ceremonies of their Religion: So muft the Jewish
Pair, according to theirs; and fo muft Chriftians alfo. But there is fomething com-
mon to them all; and that in which they all unite muſt needs be that which makes
the Marriage-Contract valid and obliging. And what is that, but that a Male and Fe-
male ſhould be at Age to confent, and at Liberty to confent, and ſhould actually
confent, to give to each other the Ufe and Dominion of each other's Body, ex-
clufively to all the World befides, as long as they both ſhall live?
This is properly the Marriage-Contract, and common to all Nations and Religions;
and all beyond this, is Matter of Ceremony, Decency, and Prudence; and ordered
by the Legiſlative Powers of different Countries, as they fee convenient. And I do not
fo
Divorce of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.
673
fo much as pretend to diſpute the Force and Obligation of theſe Laws, to fuch as are
ſubject to theſe different Powers: They are, and may, and muſt be binding as to the
Dowries of the Wives, and the Legitimation of Children, and their inheriting
Eftates and Honours, and in all fuch like Cafes.
My Lords, fo much has been faid in favour of the Solemnity of Words, of Place,
and Perſons, which are, in truth, but Circumstances to a Marriage-Contract, that it
has made me ſpend fo much of your Time, to try to lay afide that Prejudice, and to
confider the preſent Contract itſelf. We were not of Age fufficient for Conſent, al-
tho' we were of Age according to the Letter of the Law. We gave our Conſent to
be married, but it was not the Conſent of Underſtanding, for we knew not what it
was that Marriage meant. We repeated very folemn Words, after the Prieft, as we
were bidden; but it was but the Labour of the Lips; the Heart did not, the Heart
indeed could not go along with them: For whether we take the Heart for Knowledge,
or Defire, there was no Heart concerned in all this Matter: We neither of us knew
the Nature of the Contract we were making; we neither of us had ſo much as the
Defire of doing what that Contract both ſuppoſes and requires. And now, my Lords,
we humbly hope you will not let us be at Age, only to do ourſelves irreparable Mif-
chief; nor call that a Conſent, which is to compleat our Ruin, and which can ſerve no
other End.
We do not deny ourſelves to have been at legal Age; we do not deny that we have
given a verbal Confent; but we deny ourſelves to have been at Years of Underſtanding
to give ſuch a Confent as is reaſonable and fitting in a Matter of fuch Importance. And
we appeal to your Lordships Equity, whether this Age and this Confent ſhall ſtand
good to our Undoing, and to the Advantage of no Creature in the World befides: For
who, my Lords, will be the worſe for ſetting us at Liberty, or who will be the bet-
ter for our being bound? I am exceedingly fenfible, that I have trefpaffed much upon
your Lordſhips Patience, but I am bound in Juftice and in Confcience to beg a little
more of it, to ſpeak a Word or two to the laſt Part of the Objection, That fince the
Parties before you, in Petition, are Man and Wife both by the Laws of God and of the
Land; and fince by the Laws of God nothing but Adultery can diffolve a Marriage,
and no Adultery is pretended here, the Marriage of Confequence continues indiffoluble.
To fave your Lordships Time, I will grant every thing that can be granted; I grant
that by the Laws of God, nothing can diffolve a compleat Marriage but Adultery;
and I grant that no Adultery is pretended in the Cafe; but I deny that this Marriage
before you
is therefore indiffoluble, becauſe I muſt and do deny the Marriage before you
to be a compleat Marriage, by the Laws of God: And I hope, with your Lordships
Favour and Indulgence, to fhew it is not a compleat Marriage, becauſe it never was
confummated.
The Love and the Defire that Men and Women have each of the other, is what
is implanted in the Hearts of all of them, by God himſelf who made them; and is
therefore as innocent an Appetite as any elſe they have; and it has (as every other
Appetite) its proper Satisfaction provided for it by the good Creator: And when it
fixes on its proper Object, is fatisfied as innocently, as the Defire of Meat, or Drink,
or Sleep can be. Marriage, my Lords, is fixing the Defire
upon its proper Object:
And this Defire is never to be fatisfied with Innocence, but in the Marriage-Bed.
The End of Marriage therefore is the Satisfaction of this Appetite. This is the End
and Purpoſe of God in making them Male and Female; this is the Way, the only
Way, of their becoming one Fleſh: And therefore till the End is anſwered, where it
can be anſwered, Marriage is not perfect and compleat. God cannot properly be faid
to have joined thofe together, who never joined themſelves together, in the natural
Way, of his Appointment: And therefore, under Favour, 'tis a great Mifapplication
4 X
of
674
The Counſellor's PLEA for the
of thoſe ſacred Words, to the Cafe before us, where the two Parties never came toge-
ther in the Senſe intended by thoſe Words.
What can be plainer than this Propofition?
The End of Marriage, by God's Inftitution, is, that two ſhould become one Fleſh.
The two before you in the Bill were never yet one Flesh. Your Lordſhips will
make this Conclufion, Those whom God has joined, let no Man put aſunder.
The two before you in the Bill were never yet conjoined by God, in the true Meaning
of thoſe Words; they may therefore as yet be put aſunder by Men, as I hope they
will by your Lordſhips.
My Lords, the Eaſineſs of granting a Divorce in Cafes of Impotence, is a good Proof
that Marriage is not compleat and perfect where the Ends of it are not to be obtained;
'tis a Proof that it was no Marriage, but a Nullity from the beginning, altho' the
Parties were at full Age, altho' they gave a free Confent, and were married with all
Formalities; altho' the Prieſt pronounced them Man and Wife in the Name of the
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and faid thofe facred Words over their Heads, Thofe
whom God has joined, let no Man put afunder, they were not Man and Wife, becauſe
they could not become one Fleſh: They were not joined by God, becauſe they could
not join themſelves together. Your Lordſhips will confider therefore, whether a Mar-
riage not confummated (nor ever like to be confummated) be a compleat Marriage in
God's Sight; fo compleat, I mean, as to be indiſſoluble. I fhall be told, I know,
that in the Cafe before us, there is now no Defect of Power, no Impotence or Inabi-
lity to compleat the Marriage pretended, but want of Will.
I own it, and I only uſe the Inſtance to fhew that a Marriage not confummated, is
not indiſſoluble by the Laws of God; and that an utter Averfion to the Confumma-
tion of Marriage, in both Parties, is as good a Reaſon for a Divorce, as an Inability
in one Party, which never fails of procuring a Divorce. In the one Cafe, the Parties
are each of them untouched, pure and unfullied even in Thought; whilſt in the
other, there muſt paſs ſuch Things, as I have neither Will nor Leave to mention; and
yet a Divorce follows of courfe. My Lords, if ever we had come together in this
manner, I had not had one Word to reply on this Occafion; all I have faid of our
want of Age would have fignified nothing; all I have ſaid of our giving no Conſent had
been ſaid to no Purpoſe; had Confummation followed any time within theſe fourteen
Years, we muſt not have appeared in this Place. But when, to our want of Age,
and want of Knowledge to conſent to Marriage, we can alſo add, that we have never
come together to compleat this Marriage, and that we are as pure from each other,
as we were when born, we humbly hope your Lordships will deliver us from the
Chains which the Laws of our Country only have bound us with.
'Tis faid, my Lords, that Confummation is not neceffary to compleat a Marriage,
becauſe a Man is Maſter of the Woman's Fortune, and the Woman has a Right to her
Dowry, altho' the Man or Woman ſhould chance to die before the Nuptial-Bed
were made ready. My Lords, I grant, that, when the Parties who were at Age, and
Liberty, have given their Confent, and the Prieſt has done his Work, according to
the Form preſcribed, the Law is fatisfied, and looks no farther; and gives each Party
a Right to all the Advantages agreed upon, tho' Confummation follow not: The Laws
ſuppoſe that what is reaſonable and fitting will follow, and only fecures legal Advan-
tages that are contracted for. The other is a Point of Duty and of Confcience. I
only ask, whether there be a Man or Woman in the World, who thinks that the
End of Marriage, as it is God's Ordinance, is fully anſwered, till it be confummated?
My Lords, we come not here to ſay that a Marriage is not a legal Marriage till Con-
fummation; nor to affign a Day, or a Week, or a Month, for fuch Completion: We
prefume not to trifle in that manner in fuch an Affembly as this. We only mean to
ſay, that a Marriage not confummated, nor ever like to be confummated, is diſſolu-
ble,
Divorce of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.
675
ble, without Offence to any Law of God; and that a Marriage of that kind is not a
compleat Marriage in his Sight; the full Purpoſe of his Inftitution is not anſwered till
they become one Flesh. All that goes before is previouſly neceffary to the making fuch
Conjunction innocent, but it is not what is mainly and principally intended by Him
who made them Male and Female. And therefore 'tis but an Impertinence to tell us,
that Adam and Eve were compleatly married before they went into the Bridal Bower:
'Tis fo with every honeft Couple, as well as with our firft Parents: But would they
have been compleatly married, had they never gone into that Bridal Bower at all, and
lived for many Years? What Marriage, I pray, would that have been? They might
have been good Company and good Friends, but they could no more have been faid to
be Man and Wife, with reſpect to what God intended by Marriage, than two Men, or
two Women, living together in Unity and Amity, may be faid to be married together.
I believe it would puzzle the Doctors to prove that Adam and Eve were ever mar-
ried at all, any otherwiſe than by a mutual Conſent to go together; for there was
no Confent of any Superior to ask or obtain; and there could be no need of pro-
mifing to be faithful to each other, for there was no body elſe to go to. I wonder
ſuch an Inſtance ſhould be pitched upon.
But now, my Lords, I come to the great Argument of all, which is brought
to prove a Marriage compleat, tho' its Effect never follow; and that is, that Jo-
Jeph and the Bleſſed Virgin were, and are often called in the Holy Scripture,
Man and Wife, altho' we are fure by Scriptures they never came together till the
Holy Child was born; and, by Tradition, fure they never came together after it was
born.
i
This Example I take to be the Ground and Bottom of all thoſe abfurd Doctrines
and Propofitions that are raiſed, in maintaining a Marriage to be compleat by the
Confent of Parties, and the Benediction of the Prieft, without any other Fruit or Ef-
fect. Jofeph and the Blessed Virgin were certainly efpoufed and betrothed each to the
other; and he thereby became fo much her Husband, that he thought of putting her
away, which ſhews he thought ſhe was his Wife: And he is called her Husband by the
Evangeliſt St. Matthew; and the herſelf calls Jofeph the Father of her Son, Thy Father
and I have fought thee forrowing: And a little before they are called his Parents. There
is not a Word of all this that I either do, or dare deny. Be pleaſed, my Lords, but to
remember and obſerve, that the fame Scriptures that call Joſeph the Husband of the
Bleffed Virgin, do alfo call Jofeph the Father of her Son; and the fame Scriptures that
call Jofeph and Mary Husband and Wife, do alfo call Jofeph and Mary the Parents of
Jefus. And he was in truth as much the Husband of the Virgin, as he was the Father
of her Son; and much in the fame Senfe, and to the fame Purpoſe. My Lords, I have
taken fome Pains to underſtand this Matter; and what I am going to fay, I have from
very good Authority, living as well as dead, for it is fomething out of the
way of
my
Profeffion. It was abfolutely neceffary, by God's Appointment, that the Saviour of the
World ſhould be born of a Woman: And it was, by the fame Appointment, full as
neceſſary that he ſhould not be the Son of Man, in the common Way. To reconcile
thefe Difficulties therefore, he was conceived by the Holy Ghoft, and born of the Vir-
gin Mary. But becauſe this Saviour of the World was to be, in eſpecial manner, the
Meſſiah of the Jews, he was to be born a Jew; to deſcend from Abraham, according
to the Promife, of the Tribe of Judah, of the Houfe and Lineage of David. This
Meffiah the Jews expected ſhould be born as other Men were born; and they would
never have received him as fuch, or heard him as a Prophet and Teacher fent from
God, unless they had believed him to be born in lawful Wedlock; as they certainly did,
or elſe you would have heard of it over and over in the Gofpels, which conceal none of the
Slanders, Contumelies and Reproaches, which the Jews, upon all Occaſions, did ſo
plentifully pour upon our Saviour. Had the Bleffed Mary not been married, what
would
676
The Counſellor's PLEA for the
would the People have faid of her? What would they not have faid of her and of her
Son? It was therefore abfolutely neceffary to the Jews receiving Chriſt for the Meſſiah,
and hearkning to him, that he ſhould be born under the Reputation of Marriage;
which could not be, unleſs ſhe took a Husband in the ufual manner. You ſee what
Entertainment both his Perfon and Doctrine found, altho' he was fuppofed to be born
in Wedlock, and of honeſt Parents, only becauſe of their mean and low Condition;
but what had been his Fortune, had they thought him spurious?
I am almoſt forry I have occafion to ſpeak of theſe Matters; and I reſtrain my-
ſelf from going on, in hopes that enough is faid to fhew, that the Marriage of Jofeph
with the Bleſſed Virgin was all (as I am told the antient Chriſtian Writers call it)
according to Oeconomy. It was to fave Appearances; to cover both the Mother and
the Son from the Reproaches of ignorant malicious People, till it ſhould pleaſe
God, in his own good time, to manifeft the Truth more clearly to the World; and
therefore though it might be wrapped in Prophecies before his Birth, yet it was not
till after his Death that it became an Article of Faith, that he was conceived by the
Holy Ghoft, and born of the Virgin Mary. During the Life of Chrift, Jofeph was
the ſuppoſed Husband of the bleffed Virgin, and the fuppofed Father of her bleffed
Son; and, under the Cover of that Relation, was to take upon him, under God, the
Care and Protection of them both.
Will any Man, after this, pretend to ſay that this was a compleat Marriage, as Mar-
riage is the Ordinance of God? It was compleat to all the Ends and Purpoſes that God
intended by it: It fcreened the Mother and the Son from Blame and Slander; and it
provided for them ſuch Defence and Maintenance as was convenient. But what is this
to God's original Inſtitution? Or how can fuch a thing be drawn into Example? Jofeph
and Mary are faid to be marry'd, although they never did compleat that Marriage, al-
though they never must compleat it; therefore a Marriage-Contract is a compleat Mar-
riage in any one elſe as well as them, although they proceed no farther! That is, (I
humbly pray your Lordships to obferve) there was a Marriage-Contract made, about
fome 1715 Years ago, betwixt
betwixt a holy Man and the moſt excellent and holy Maid
that ever lived upon the Earth; placed in fuch Circumſtances as never happened be-
fore, nor ever will happen again; upon an extraordinary and moſt aſtoniſhing Oc-
cafion: The Contract was, that this Man fhould be called the Husband of this
Virgin, for Reaſons that never happened before, nor ever will happen again; and
this Couple, by God's Appointment, never were to touch each other, in the matri-
monial Way, till the Birth of a Child, that was to be called (becauſe he truly was)
the Son of God. Now this moſt rare, moft fingular, moſt unexampled Inſtance, is
brought to convince your Lordships, that a bare Marriage-Contract makes a com-
pleat Marriage, according to the Laws of God, without proceeding any farther, in
every other Couple that is married: And the Parties for whom I now appear are
faid to be compleatly married, although they never came together, becauſe the bleffed
Virgin and Jofeph were compleatly married, although they went no farther than a
Marriage-Contract, nor ever could go farther, by God's Appointment. My Lords,
if fuch an Example as this can operate fo extenfively and ftrangely, we muſt give
over making Confequences in the way of Reaſon, and attend to the Dictates of our
ſpiritual Maſters, without examining what it is they ſay. I do not know what Form
of Words the Jews made ufe of when they were married; but I know, methinks,
that the Form preſcribed by the Church of England would have been very odd, im-
proper, and abfurd, to have been uſed to that bleffed Couple, when it defcribes the
Ends of Matrimony to be, First, For the Procreation of Children; Secondly, For a
Remedy againſt Sin; and, Thirdly, For mutual Society, Help and Comfort, that
the one ought to have of the other. The Sum of all is this, that the Ends of this
particular Marriage, which God intended, were fully answered, by a Marriage-
Contract
1
Divorce of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.
6777
Contract only; but the Ends of Marriage in general, as it is God's Ordinance, nei-
ther were, nor might be anſwered by fuch Contract only; and therefore 'tis an abfurd
unreaſonable thing to argue from the Compleatneſs of the one, to the Compleatneſs
of any other, that may proceed farther, and that ought to proceed farther, and is
certainly not compleat till it does proceed farther.
Another Argument to prove a Marriage to be compleat, by a Marriage-Contract
only, without proceeding to Confummation, is fetched from the Law of Mofes, Deuts
xxii. 23. where a Woman, betrothed or eſpouſed to a Man, is to be ftoned to Death,
as an Adulterefs, if the admit another to her Bed; which fhews that the Validity of
Marriage proceeds from the mutual Covenant and Confent that two have given to be
each other's.
My Lords, I yield to every Word of this, and to whatever elſe can be faid of the
fame kind. A Marriage-Contract does certainly give a Right to every thing con-
tracted for. As foon as we are married, I have a Right to her Perfon, a Right to her
Fortune, a Right to her Reputation; and if any one injure her in any of thoſe Par-
ticulars, I have a Right to her Vindication; for fhe is really mine, and I am hers:
And I own I am as much married to her the firſt Morning, and ſhe to me, as I fhall
be the Morning or Week after, as to all the Ends and Purpoſes which human Laws
can propoſe or take any Cognizance of. And if ſhe abuſes any one the Hour after
ſhe is married, 'tis I muſt anſwer for it. If the gives away any of her Goods, which
are now become mine, why no body can receive them; I fhall recover them, for
they are mine. And if the give away herſelf, (though I have never yet come near her)
fhe is certainly an Adulterefs; ſhe has given away what was mine, and broken her
Faith and Contract, and is liable to whatever Penalty the Laws of the Country
think fit to inflict upon fuch Offenders. I could moreover anfwer this Law of
Mofes by another Law of the fame Mofes, which fets a Man at liberty from a Maid
he was betrothed to, if fhe pleaſe him not when the time of Marriage comes. "Tis
in Exod. xxi. 8. And the only Difference is, that the Maid betrothed in Exodus
was not free, but a Servant; the Maid betrothed in Deuteronomy was a free Woman.
But though this makes a great Difference in the Laws and Cuſtoms of a Country,
yet certainly 'tis none in Point of Confcience: The Obligation there is alike to Bond
as Free, if other Circumſtances make no Difference. But the anſwering one Ob-
jection with another clears up nothing. I own that the Validity of Marriage pro-
ceeds from the mutual Covenant. But pray what is this mutual Covenant? Is it not
the confenting and agreeing of a Man and Woman to give to each other the Uſe and
Dominion of their Bodies, exclufive of all the World befides, as long as they both
ſhall live? What is it that the Parties contract for? What is it People confent to
upon theſe Occaſions? I know it is faid by Father Ambrofe, Connubium non facit
Defloratio Virginitatis, fed Pactio Conjugalis. And it was faid before him long by
Father Ulpian, Nuptias non Concubitus fed Confenfus facit. And certainly every body
will fay after them, that the Agreement of a Man and Woman to lie together,
does not make a Marriage. But will St. Ambrofe tell us, that a Patio Conjugalis (a
Marriage Covenant) can be fully anſwered without Concumbency, if the Parties live
and are not hindred? In truth I will not anſwer for the Father, who (as the reſt of
them) had Joſeph and Mary always in his Eye: But I will anfwer for the Civil
Lawyer, who, I am fure, would never fay a Marriage was compleat, that was not, if
it could have been, confummated. Hear what Modeftinus fays, Nuptia funt Con-
junctio Maris & Famine, & confortium omnis vita. 'Tis true he was a Heathen
Lawyer, but had he alſo added, that Marriage was ordained to be a Remedy against
Sin, he had talked the Language of our Common-Prayer-Book. For he fays it is for
the Procreation of Children, (Conjunctio Maris & Fæminæ) and for mutual Society,
Help and Comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, and taking each other
for
4 Y
678
The Counſellor's PLEA for the
for better for worſe, which is but the English of Confortium omnis vita. Paulus,
another Civilian, fays, that Nuptia confiftere non poffunt, nifi confentiant omnes, i. e.
qui coeunt, quorumque in poteftate funt. There is no fuch thing as a right Marriage,
where there is not the Confent of all Parties, i. e. the Confent of the two qui coeunt,
and the Confent of Parents or Guardians in whofe Power and Difpofal the young
ones were. All Writers in the World agree, that Confent, Covenant, Contract, (call
it what you will) is fo neceffary to a Marriage, that it cannot be valid without it;
but then they alſo fay, that fuch a Conſent is a Confent to anſwer the Ends of Mar-
riage; that ſuch a Covenant is a Covenant to live together, according to God's Ordi-
nance ; and that ſuch a Contract is a Contract for the Ufe and Dominion of each
other's Body; which is, in effect, neither more nor leſs than what St. Paul has faid
in i Cor. vii. 3, 4. which I repeat not, becauſe it is ſo well known. But they who
think a Marriage is a compleat and perfect Marriage, according to God's Ordinance,
(for as to human pofitive Laws, I conteft it not) although it never be confummated
they I defire may read that Paſſage, and conſider it.
;
My Lords, there is another flight Objection which I will but juſt mention, and
that is, That the Church allows the oldeft People that are, to be married, and accounts
their Marriage good, altho' there is neither Hope nor Likelihood of having Children;
and accordingly appoints the Prayer for that Purpoſe to be omitted and left out; and
therefore a Marriage is compleat by Contract only, without any Confummation.
The Argument, I think, is this, That becauſe a Marriage is a good Marriage which
is not confummated, becauſe it cannot be by reaſon of People's Age, therefore a Mar-
riage is a good Marriage tho' not confummated, which yet may be confummated any
Day in the Year. If this be a right Inference, there is no making a wrong one, for
one can never make a worſe. My Lords, the Church neither does nor can pretend to
determine when People are too old to marry: It meddles with no fuch Matters, but
leaves every one to their Difcretion. She feems to affign three Ends of Marriage,
which I have had Occafion to mention before; and if the first cannot be anſwered,
the ſecond may, and fo may the third, tho' the other two ſhould not.
And now, my Lords, I hope I have fhewn that the Bill before you is a good Bill;
that the Divorce we fue for is very reaſonable and juſt, and that ſuch a Marriage as ours,
made at ſuch an Age, with fuch a Confent as is indeed no Confent, and never confum-
mated, tho' fourteen Years fince, is ſuch a Marriage as may very innocently be diffolved,
without any manner of Offence to the Laws of God. And I defire any Man to affign
any one Law of God that would be hurt thereby, unless we are made to believe that
every Law of the Church, is alfo a Law of God; which when I hear affirmed, I
ſhall not want an Anſwer to it. But I am fure the Laws of God, which are proper-
ly fo called, are to be found in a holy Book, where nothing appears againſt us. For as
for thoſe Paffages which allow a Man to put away his Wife for no Cauſe but that of
Adultery, 'tis certain, to a Demonſtration, that they refer to Marriages that have been
compleated and confummated by Man and Wife. And if your Lordſhips would in-
dulge me fo far, I would venture to fay, that no Man of common Senfe can
read thoſe Paſſages, and think otherwife. My Lords, he muſt be a Scholar, that can
read that Queſtion of the Pharifee's, and the Determination of our Bleſſed Saviour,
about Divorces, and conclude after all, that the Marriages there fpoken of, might be
fuch Marriages as never were confummated, as well as fuch as were. "Tis impoffible
to miſtake fo plain a Cafe, without a good deal of Learning and Study. My Lords,
it ſtirs me to a little Indignation, and gives me a Concern, fomewhat beyond my Fee,
to hear this Marriage-Contract of ours treated like a Marriage of fourteen Years ftand-
ing, where Man and Wife have all along cohabited, and now are weary of each other,
and the common Bed, and ſeeking to your Lordships for leave to look for more agree-
able Companions. Why elfe are all thefe Places of Scripture brought againſt our
Bill,
Divorce of Sir G. D. and Mrs. F.
679
Bill, when not a fingle Line of them is pertinent and proper to our Cafe? If they had
brought the Scriptures to prove, that a Boy of Fifteen, and a Girl of Thirteen, not
born in Paradiſe, or in the Gardens of the Eaft, but in a cold and frozen Climate
of the North, were of Age fufficient to diſpoſe of their Perſons for ever, they had
done fomething to the Purpoſe, for that, my Lords, was our Age. If they had brought
the Scriptures to prove, that a Boy and Girl, of the Years aforefaid, repeating a Form
of Words, after a certain Perfon, in a Church, between the Hours of Eight and
Twelve, had thereby made a Contract that muſt ſtand like Fate, and be irrevocable
as the Hours that paffed a Week ago, by any Power on Earth, they had done fome-
thing to the Purpoſe, for that indeed we did. I have already owned, we ſaid what
we were bid to ſay; we did what we were bid to do: We ſhould have done a great
deal more, and faid a great deal more, had we been ordered fo: "Tis not our Fault
that we did not give it under our Hands, that our Marriage was confummated by the
Words we repeated in the Church; had we been aſked to do fo, we had furely done
it, fuch was our Innocence, fuch was our Ignorance! This, my Lords, had been the
Point they ſhould have laboured moſt to clear; for this they ſhould have brought their
Scripture-Proofs, to fhew that the Words of a Marriage-Contract are, by God's Ap-
pointment, as foon as ever they are uttered, of fo binding a Nature, that neither the
Conſent of Parties, nor all the Powers that are on Earth, can make them null and
void: That it is proper and peculiar to this Contract never to be diffolved, tho' nothing
but Words has paffed. All other Promifes, I muft fay again, all other Covenants, all
other Oaths, are owned to be diffoluble, by the Confent of Parties, where no Injury
is done to any Third. The Marriage-Words, it ſeems, are the only Words in the
World that operate like a Charm, and take effect, in ſpite of all the Reaſon, and all
the new Neceffities, that can arife and be urged againſt it; altho' the Parties fhould
not have ſo much as touched each other's Lips, nor ever fhall. Here Scriptures
would have done exceedingly well, and have obtained the Reverence and Obedience
that is due to their Authority, had they but ſhewn that a verbal Contract, made with
Solemnity, anſwers all the Ends and Purpoſes of Matrimony, as it is God's Ordi-
nance; that it is not only previouſly neceffary, both by the Laws of God and Man,
to make the Conjunction of Man and Woman innocent, but that the verbal Contract
is the thing itſelf, 'tis Matrimony to all Intents and Purpoſes; and is no more to be dif-
folved, than it had been, had the Fruit and Effect of it been half a Dozen Children
now preſented at your Lordships Bar. There is no End of the Abfurdities that ariſe
from treating a Verbal Contract, that has only paffed the Lips, juft as you would a
Marriage confummated, and perfectly compleat; and therefore, tho' I call for their Scrip-
ture Proofs, yet I am well affured none can be brought to prove a Point fo unreafon-
able. But to hear them heap up Scripture upon Scripture, to prove, that Marriage
is God's Ordinance; that Marriages are facred Contracts; that by the Laws of Chriſt,
they cannot be diffolved but for the Cauſe of Fornication, is in my humble Opinion,
to hear them fay nothing to the Purpoſe, unleſs thoſe Scriptures mean that Marriage
not confummated is God's Ordinance; that Marriage-Contracts are facred, altho'
the very End and Meaning of the Contract is not anſwered; and that Marriages
which Chrift there ſpeaks of as indiffoluble (except for the fake of Adultery) are ſuch
Marriages as never were confummated. In fhort, if becauſe the Word Marriage is a
Word that is common to a Marriage before it is confummated, and alſo after, therefore
whatever is applicable to a confummated Marriage, is alſo applicable to a Marriage
not confummated; if this be a Confequence, a reaſonable Man will be aſhamed here-
after of making Confequences. We may as well conclude, that, becauſe Caius is a
Man, and Titius is a Man, therefore Caius and Titius are one and the fame Man.
They tell us alfo, from the Scriptures, that Matrimony fignifies to us, the myſtical
Union
680
The Counſellor's PLEA, &c.
Union there is betwixt Chriſt and his Church; but let them ſay it, if they think fit;
that Matrimony not confummated does, or can fignify this Union: But in this I ſpare
them, and indeed myſelf, not daring to ſpeak with any Freedom on this Subject; and
finding I have already tranfgreffed too far, I humbly defire your Lordships to confider,
whether there ever was fo equitable a Cauſe of Divorce within the Walls of this Houſe.
It is fo fingular a Cafe, that it cuts off all your Fears of its becoming an Example; the
oldeſt Lawyer living never heard the like in all refpects; nor will the youngeſt
ever live to ſee it made a Precedent: But were there Twenty fuch like Cafes now be-
fore you, they are ſo reaſonable and juſt, that they would every one deferve to be re-
lieved by your Lordships; and 'tis below the Dignity of the Legiſlative Power to be
afraid of making Precedents, were there is Reafon, and Justice, and Compaffion on
their Side: To all which we lay as ſtrong a Claim, as ever Parties did that ever were
before this Houſe.
A SERMON
}
681
Á
SERMON
Preached at Ely-Houſe Chapel in Holbourn, on Thurſday,
June 7, 1716. being the Day of Publick Thankſgiving for the
Bleffing of GOD upon His MAJESTY's Counfels and Arms,
in fuppreffing the late UNNATURAL REBELLION.
PSALM CVII. Verſe 2.
Let them give thanks whom the Lord hath redeemed, and delivered
from the hand of the enemy.
I
T is not certain what Deliverance it was that occafion'd the Pfalmift to exhort
the People to Thankſgiving, ſo earneſtly and frequently, as he does in this
Pfalm: It is enough that there was Reafon for fo doing, and therefore the Words
of the Text are general, and as applicable to any other People, as to the
Jews----Let them give thanks, whofoever they are, and wherefoever they live, whom
the Lord hath redeemed, and delivered from the hand of the enemy.
The Redemption from any Evil, that God hath wrought for a Nation, and his
Deliverance of it from the Hand of the Enemy, is certainly a moft fufficient Ground
and Reaſon for Thankſgiving. I will firſt confider this in general, and then apply it
in particular.
First, The Redemption and Deliverance of a Nation from the Hand of the Enemy,
is a moſt reaſonable and juſt Occafion of Thankſgiving to God. The Evils Men eſcape,
are juſtly reckon❜d as fo many Mercies received, and Mercies received are the only pro-
per Subjects of Thankſgiving; and therefore 'tis moſt reaſonable and fit, That they should
give thanks whom the Lord hath redeemed and delivered from the band of the enemy, i. e.
from all the Evils and Calamities of War. Whatever can make Life defirable, is、
hazarded in War; and the beft End that Men propofe by War, is to incline and
force the Adverfary to Reafon and Juftice, to good Terms and a Defire of Peace, by
the Senſe of their prefent Sufferings, and by the Fears of greater. So that the very
End of War is doing Miſchief to Mankind, in order to bring them to Reaſon: And
therefore whatever Miſchiefs a Man can fuffer, with refpect to the free Exerciſe of
his Religion, the ſerving God in Time, and Place, and decent Order; and with re-
ſpect to his Eſtate and Fortune, the enjoying the Fruits of his Labour, or the In-
heritance of his Anceſtors; or with reſpect to the Life and Safety of himſelf and
Friends: Whatever Miſchiefs any one can fuffer, with reſpect to any of theſe Parti-
culars, he may expect them reaſonably from War; there is nothing fo likely to bring
them on him, as the Sword of War: That is the Executioner of God's fevereft Ven-
geance, with refpect to the Community. It fpreads more Miſchief, carries more Mif-
fortunes than any Inftrument of God's Anger. And therefore, to be freed from the
Hand of the Enemy, is to be freed from almoſt all the Evils that a Man can undergo,
and therefore fuch Deliverance well deferves a Thankſgiving.
Now fuch Deliverance is faid to be of God, not only when he affifts in a miraculous
and viſible Manner, and when the Means are apparently Divine, or difproportioned
4 Z
to
682
À Sermon preached at Ely-Houſe Chapel,
to the End they work; but when there appears nothing of God immediately in it,
when nothing extraordinary or unuſual happens, but fecond Cauſes work their na-
tural Effects; and Strength, and Force, and Numbers, Advantage of Ground, Plenty
of Provifion, Wind, and Sun, produce their ufual Fruits and Confequences. God
works Deliverances by thefe, as certainly as by his Miracles. And whofoever reads
the Pfalms of David, and knows his Hiſtory withal, will fee all his great Victories,
and his Eſcapes, attributed to God's Hand in a manner marvellous and extraordinary;
when yet they were brought about, as Victories and great Deliverances are now-a-
days, by great Armies and good Conduct, by Force and Subtilty, by Strength and
Stratagem. Thus in Pfalm xviii. The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and deliverer,
the God of my strength, in him will I truft: he is my ſhield, and the horn of my ſalva-
tion, my high tower, and my refuge, my Saviour, thou faveft me from violence: I will
call upon the Lord who is worthy to be praised; ſo ſhall I be faved from mine enemies.
The forrows of Hell compaffed me about, the fnares of death prevented me: in my distress
I called upon the Lord, and cried unto my God, and he did hear my voice: then the
earth ſhook and trembled, the foundations of Heaven fhook and were moved, becauſe he
was wroth. He bowed the Heavens alfo and came down, and it was dark under his
feet; he rode upon the Cherubim, and came flying upon the wings of the wind. The
Lord thundered from Heaven, and the Most High uttered his voice; he fent out arrows
and ſcattered them, lightning and discomfited them: the channels of the fea appeared,
the foundations of the world were difcovered, at the rebuking of the Lord, at the blaft
of the breath of his difpleasure. He fent from above, he took me, he drew me out of
many waters. He delivered me from my strongest enemy, and from them that hated
me, becauſe they were too mighty for me. God is my strength and power, and maketh
my way perfect. He maketh my feet like harts feet, and fetteth me up on high. He
teacheth my hands to war, fo that my arm ſhall break even a bow of steel. It is God
that avengeth me and bringeth me forth from mine enemies; he is the tower of falvation
to his king, and fheweth mercy to his anointed for evermore.
Without remembring
David's Hiftory, one would imagine that Heaven and Earth were moved on his be-
half, and that the Courfe of Nature had been overthrown; and that his Life was
covered by continual Miracles, from all Attempts fecret and open. And yet the
Title of this Pfalm tells us it was a fong of thankſgiving, that David fang in the day
that the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of
Saul: And by his Hiſtory we know that no Miracle was ever wrought in his Favour,
nothing fupernatural or furprizing done in all his Life, but what great Courage and
great Conduct, with the Bleffing of God, might well have compaffed. But from
hence we may learn theſe few things, 1. That the Hiftory muft ftill be confulted in
explaining the Pfalms. 2. That the Jewish Expreffion, and indeed the Expreffion
of all the People that dwelt Easternly, is full of Pomp and Amplification, of Fancy
and Hyperbole, and is not therefore to be taken in its large and literal Senfe, but in a
fober and reſtrained one. And 3. That whatever God is faid, in all theſe Paffages,
to do, with ſo much Majefty and Might, with fo great Power and Wonder, is done
by human Means and human Inftruments, and in an ordinary and natural Courſe,
by human Strength and Cunning, by Vigilance, Activity, by finding and by taking
hold of Opportunities, by common Armies, by Horfe and Foot, by Bows and Ar-
rows, Swords and Spears, Shields and other Inftruments of Death and of Defence.
All what is here attributed to God, is done by thefe, in the Hands of Men of Courage
and Experience, which is his Arm and Sword. And therefore the Deliverances that
all Men elſe have had from Enemies or other Evils, both may and ought to be aſcribed
to God, as well as thefe; his Hand is ftill the fame, his Power not ſhortned; and
therefore our Gratitude is full as due as theirs, for all the Mercies we receive; it is
from him alone, that all our Bleffings come.
Nor
on Thurſday, June 7, 1716.
683
my
Nor is it only the Deliverance from an Enemy's Army, that David afcribes to God,
but his Deliverances from any Evils or Miſchiefs defigned againſt himſelf in private:
Thus when Saul privately purpofed his Death, and it was diſcovered to him by Jona-
than; and when he alſo ſent Meſſengers to David's Houſe to watch him and to ſlay
him in the Morning, and it was diſcovered and defeated by his Daughter Michal,
David's Wife, who told him-----If thou faveft not thy life, thou shalt be flain to mor-
row,------and helped to convey him ſafe away; he gives the Praiſe and Glory of theſe
Deliverances to God alone, tho' the Diſcoveries were made by People from whom
fuch Kindneffes might reaſonably have been expected, a Wife, and a generous Friend
and Brother-in-Law. And yet, upon this Occaſion he compoſed the 59th Pfalm-----
God is my defence, the God of mercy fhall prevent me, God ſhall let me jee my defire up-
on mine enemies. Unto thee, O my ftrength, will I fing, for God is my defence and
moft merciful God. And therefore 'tis but reaſonable to aſcribe to God Deliverances of
any fort, by any Means and Inftruments lawful and honeft. It was God that deli-
vered David by the Meffengers and Informations of Jonathan and Michal, from be-
ing privately affaffinated, as well as from falling into the Hands of his open Ene-
mies, by his own extraordinary Courage and Conduct, and by the Affections of his
People, and the Valour of his Soldiers; and therefore Praiſe and Thanks are to be aſcri-
bed and given to God as certainly when he employs the leaſt and the moſt inconfi-
derable Inftruments, as when he ufes greater. All theſe things appear fo evident and
reaſonable, that it were but loſs of Time to prove them. There is no Scruple or Ob-
jection to this Exhortation of the Pfalmift; it is affented to, as foon as asked, that They
Should give thanks whom the Lord hath redeemed, and delivered from the hand of the
enemy: We have therefore only to fee, in the Application, what Reaſon we have now
to give God Thanks, by confidering from what Evils we have been redeemed, and
from what Enemies we have been delivered. The Evils we have been delivered from,
are all the Miſeries and Calamities which conſtantly attend a Civil and Inteſtine War.
Theſe we muſt have undergone, as long as any Enemies would have appeared againſt
the King, altho' his Arms had been at laſt ſucceſsful: But had the Rebels prevailed,
the Evils then muſt have been numberless and endleſs; the King muſt have been de-
pofed and murdered, and ſo muſt all his Family that had not fled; the Confequence
of this muſt have been, that no Proteftant Prince muft ever have ruled in this Na-
tion again. The Confequence of that muſt neceffarily be, the Eſtabliſhing a Succeſ-
fion of Popish Princes for ever; and what lefs will follow from thence, than the
rooting out the Proteftant Religion in theſe Kingdoms for ever, and fettling Popery
for ever, in its ftead? And what will then become in time of all our Laws and
boafted Liberties?
Theſe are not Confequences, which the Proclamation, for Obfervance of this Day,
has drawn, and which I repeat from it only for Amplification's fake, and to beget
Aſtoniſhment and Dread in People's Hearts, without Cauſe; but they are fuch as make
themſelves, fuch as are natural and unavoidable; fuch as must follow, if free Agents
may act freely, and Natural Cauſes produce their Natural Effects: Such as are only
poffible not to happen, if God by a wonderful Power intervene not to hinder them;
which becauſe we have no Reaſon to expect, we have no Reaſon to ſuppoſe. And they
are fuch as you yourſelves fhall be Judges of. Had the King's Forces been defeated
either in England or Scotland, you are not to imagine that there had been an End of
the War; more Forces had been raiſed and ſent to their Affiſtance. A King and Par-
liament agreeing, are not fo foon vanquifhed. I believe we have not one Inftance in
all our Hiſtory, of a King overcome by his Rival Adverſary, whoſe Cauſe and Title
the Parliament did heartily eſpouſe, as is the preſent Cafe; and therefore all their Legi-
flative Power, their Intereft, and their Wealth, would certainly have been exerted, in
raifing and maintaining Armies for ſupporting and eſtabliſhing the preſent Govern-
ment, from time to time as there ſhould be Occafion.
Examples
684
A Sermon preached at Ely-Houſe Chapel,
Examples are only as fo many Snares, to flight and inconfiderate People, who on-
ly view them on the Side they like: Becauſe a Revolution in favour of the Proteſtant
Religion, and of the Laws and Liberties of the Nation, was ſo eaſily brought about,
therefore the hot and thoughtless Heads of the Confpirators, imagined fuch ano-
ther might be brought about, with as much Eafe, if they could work the People in-
to Diſcontents and Difaffection to the Government; and a feditious Difpofition by
idle Tales, and groundleſs Calumnies, as ridiculous as they are falſe, and by revival
of that fenfeleſs Outcry of the Church's Danger, of which they were never yet able to
make one tolerable Proof, to the Conviction of any fober, thoughtful, and obferving
Man.
By theſe means, however, they have made ſhift to lead captive abundance of filly,
noify, and outrageous Women, and to ſeduce great Numbers of decayed, idle, and
diſorderly Men, whofe Ignorance makes them credulous, and diſpoſes them to ſwal-
low any
Stories that are told them, tho' never fo improbable; and whofe neceffitous
Condition keeps them in readineſs for Tumult, and to follow the Directions of fuch
as fecretly abet and favour the defigned Change, in hopes of fome Encouragement for
the prefent, and finding their Account in it hereafter. Theſe are the People for the
moft part, that, had the Rebels prevailed a little at firſt, would probably have rifen
in divers Quarters of the Kingdom, and joined them as foon as they could convenient-
ly; and might thereby have made their Army numerous. To theſe we may alſo add,
without doubt, a number of Men of better Quality, fome of unmeaſurable Ambition,
ſome diſcontented and difappointed of their Hopes, others of broken Fortunes, deep
in Debt, and overwhelmed with Mortgage, others obnoxious to the Government,
and deſpairing of Forgiveneſs. A Body thus compofed and formed, muſt needs be able
to do an infinite deal of Miſchief, to defolate and ravage many Countries, to burn and
pillage many Towns and fingle Houſes, to rob, abuſe, to wound and murder many
thouſand People, innocent and inoffenfive in themſelves, but become Enemies by ad-
hering to the Government, and not affifting the Rebellion. Theſe things they muſt
have been forced to do, within a few Weeks after they entered on this Warfare; for
when the little Money of their own had been ſpent, and the little which their Leaders
would have been able to ſupply them with, was alſo gone, what muſt they have done,
but either ſtarved, or fallen to Plunder wherever they came? They had no Fund,
no Taxes to depend upon, nor Credit for Subfiftence, nor regular Pay to look for:
Thoſe are all with the Government, and without them no Army can continue toge-
ther for any length of Time, without depriving every body in their reach of all they
have, and deſtroying all before them. Thus their Numbers would have made them
able, and their Neceffities made them willing, to bring upon the Country all the Ca-
lamities and Miſeries of Civil War, how little foever of theſe Cruelties and Miſchiefs,
they may fay, they intended when firſt they entered on it. Things will have their
natural and eafy Confequences, whatever People may intend, and the beſt Intentions
in the World will excufe no Man for the evil Confequences, if they are natural and
eafy ones, and fuch as are uſually expected. But after all, will fuch a mad, dif-
jointed, unprovided Rout as this, be able to hold out againſt the Wiſdom, and the
Strength, the Wealth and Intereſt of the Nation, united in the King and Parliament,
who have all Power entirely in their Hands, and who can raiſe what Armies, and
what Taxes for their Pay, they pleaſe? I will not exaggerate things in the leaſt Degree,
nor ſay what the meaneft People may not comprehend and think reaſonable to be-
lieve. The Rebels might, upon a little Succeſs at firſt, have increaſed in Number,
and might have killed many thouſands of the King's faithful Subjects, both in the
Field and out of it, and have undone many thouſands more in their Goods and For-
tune. All theſe Evils were prevented, by the Bleffing of God upon the King's Arms
and Counfels, fuppreffing fo foon the Seeds of the Rebellion; all thoſe Lives that
have
1
on Thurſday, June 7, 1716.
685
have been faved, all thofe Eftates that have been preferved from this Deftruction, are
Matter of Thankſgiving: We who are faithful to the King, could not but have la-
mented the Slaughter, or the Ruin of fo many of our Friends and Fellow-Subjects.
Nor would the Enemies of the King have had lefs Cauſe to mourn than we; for cer
tainly his Armies would have made as dreadful a Havock of the Rebels and their Fa-
vourers and Abetters; whoever confiders the Strength, the Courage, and Experience
of old, approved, and regular Forces, well officer'd, well provided for, and well
paid, cannot but think they would have fold their Lives exceedingly dear, and would
have taken ample Vengeance on the King's Enemies and their own, for all the
Deaths, the Loffes and the Abuſes of their Friends. All theſe Evils are alſo prevented,
by the fo ſpeedy Suppreffion of this Rebellion: And therefore here is Matter of
Thankſgiving even for the greateſt Enemies the King has, whether openly or fecretly
fuch; they muſt have loft as many Friends, as there had been Rebels deſtroyed and
killed. The marvellous Compaffion, the ſtrange and hitherto unpractiſed Charity of
publick Prayers and Tears, beſtowed upon the few State Criminals, that have fallen of
late by the Hand of Law and Juſtice, this new and unuſual Tenderneſs, I fay, ſhewn
rather for their Sufferings than their Sins, by fuch as approve their Cauſe, would incline
one to hope, that they would join with us, as they have Reaſon, in Thankſgiving to
God, for putting fo quick an End to this Rebellion, in which fo many of their Huf
bands, Children, Fathers, Brothers, Kindred and Friends, might very probably have
perifhed: The fword, as David faith, devoureth one as well as another, and the Lofs
and Sufferings of their Friends muſt needs have been confiderably great. And all
good Men, who would unquestionably have lamented the Ruin of fo many Families,
on either Side, will certainly agree in thanking God, for the happy Accidents, that
by his Bleffing have prevented fo much Miſchief, and the Death of ſo many Fellow-
Subjects, Men and Chriſtians, whether Friends or Enemies to the preſent Eſtabliſh-
ment. It is not eafy for an unexperienc'd Heart to conceive, much lefs for the Tongue
to expreſs, the Defolations, Miferies, and Calamities of a Civil War. And therefore
the preventing all theſe Evils, is certainly the Matter of a ferious and fincere Thankſ-
giving to Almighty God. That it is indeed fo, I have hitherto fhewed you, upon Sup-
pofition that the King's Arms might (as I think they would) have been victorious and
fuccefsful at the laft. But becauſe the Iffues of War are very uncertain, and abun_
dance of little Accidents may intervene, which wife Men cannot eafily forefee, nor
confequently be prepared againſt, which yet may ftrangely change the Fortune of the
Day, againſt all Reaſon, Expectation, and the Appearances of Things; and becauſe
as the race is not always to the fwift, fo is not the battle always to the ftrong, but Time
and Chance happens to them all---- Becauſe, I ſay, of theſe Uncertainties, let us fup-
pofe the Rebels had prevailed, and they had been victorious in the Field, and fee,
what muſt have been the natural Confequences of this Succeſs, that we may the better
fee, whether the preventing thefe Confequences be truly Matter of Thankſgiving,
which is the End of our affembling here this Day.
The firſt natural Confequence of the Rebels entire Succefs, muſt have been the
Death of the King, and the Deſtruction of the whole Royal Family, if they had
fallen into their Hands. Without this, all other Advantages would have fignified
but little; this is the only wanted and defired Succefs of the Rebellion: Put but this
precious Life, and Family, into their Power, and they will want no more, the reſt
will follow of Courſe. This is fo manifeft a Truth, that it can want no Proof. Not
one who took the Sword but muſt have aimed at it, and intended this: Not one who
ſtaid at home, and wiſhed Succeſs to the Rebellion, but muſt have wiſhed for this
Deſtruction of the King, and of his Houſe, unless they were fo fenfeleſs as to fight
for, and to wish for an Event and End, without intending either the neceffary Means
of compaffing that End, or the neceffary and unavoidable Confequences of ſuch an
4 A a
Iffue
686
A Sermon preached at Ely-Houfe Chapel,
1
Iffue and Event. Who can pretend to fight againſt the King, without intending to
dethrone him, and to place his Rival in his Seat? And who can wifh Succefs to fuch
an Attempt, without intending what will naturally follow upon that Succefs? "Tis
juft poffible to abftract fuch Things in one's Thought, and to feparate them one from
the other; but 'tis hardly poffible to reafon one's felf into a Belief, that fuch and fuch
Things may come to pass without their natural Confequences. And therefore, they
who fecretly wiſhed well to this Rebellion, muft needs have wifhed the natural Fruits
of fuch Succefs, the Death and Ruin of the King, and of his Family. And would not
this be a very ſtrange Return for a People to make to a Prince, whom they called to the
Throne, and placed him on it with great Joy, and have feen him fit thereon for near
two Years, fo inoffenfively with regard to our Laws at Home, fo uſefully with reſpect
to our Trade Abroad, and with fo much Honour with regard to the Princes of the
World, that one would think the Mouth of Calumny itſelf ſhould have been fhut?
There is fomething fo particular in this King's coming to the Throne, that it will
deſerve to be remember'd and confidered by every one of you; for no King ever yet
came in the like manner. He came not in by the Sword, or any Pretence of Con-
queft, as William the First did; nor by briguing with the Biſhops and great Men, as
K.Stephen did; nor was he called to it by the Nobility and Commonalty of the Realm,
to correct and reform the Abuſes of the State, and fupply the Place of fuch as were de-
pofed for Mal-adminiſtration, or had left the Kingdom, as were Edward III. Henry IV.
Henry VII. and the late King William of ever-honoured Memory: Nor did he come
by what they call Hereditary Right, as Henry II. Edward IV. and K. James I. did. But
the Nation of its own accord, neither moved by any Fear of prefent Danger, nor by Gra-
titude for any Benefits or Service paft; awed by no Arm, either near or diſtant; bribed
by no Favours, promiſed or beſtowed; but free, at eaſe, and in a Time of Peace; the
Nation, I fay, in theſe Circumſtances did of its own accord, moft voluntarily offer
to, and fettle the Crown upon the Houfe of Hanover, the Princefs Sophia being the
next of Kin, that was a Proteftant, Grand-daughter to King James I, in purſuance
of a former Act of Parliament which excluded all Papiſts. In this manner was the
Succeffion fettled on the Houſe, of which the King was Heir and Head: In this man-
ner, and without his feeking, was he called to the Throne, by all the Nation, King
and Parliament, and alſo afterwards by Queen and Parliament, if that will pleaſe
ſome People better. So that if it be lawful for a whole Nation to ſecure its Religion,
Laws, and Property, from utter Ruin and Subverfion, by excluding Papiſts from the
Throne, and lawful for them to beſtow their Government where they believe thoſe
valuable Bleffings will be beft fecured, there cannot be a better Title in the World
than what the preſent King has. It is the Gift of a whole Nation to him, unasked
for and unfought by him; and there were fourteen or fifteen Years betwixt the Settle-
ment and its taking Place. So that it was not a raſh and ſudden Thing, but done
with all Deliberation, and there was time enough to fee if it were well done. This
is the Title that is by all means to be defeated, this is the Prince that is to be dethroned
and murdered. This is the Family that is to fly or be deſtroyed. The Nation muſt
unfay what they formerly faid with one Voice; they muſt undo what they formerly
did, in the moſt folemn and deliberate Manner; they muſt break the Promiſes they
voluntarily made, they muft unfwear the Oaths they have often fworn: And all this
they muſt do without any Provocation or Offence on his Part, nay after many Bene-
fits received from his good Government. And would not this have raiſed the Credit
and the Honour of the Nation with the World Abroad, as well as have ſecured it at
Home? But in good earneſt would it not have compleated both our Infamy and
Ruin? Such a Proceeding with our King and with his Family, as muſt have been
the Confequence of the Rebels Succefs, would have made us the Hatred and the Scorn
of all the Nations with whom we have any thing to do. They faw us not long fince
bafely
on Thurſday, June 7, 1716.
687
bafely and wickedly forfake our Allies, and with another fort of Bafenefs court our
Enemies, and give them all the Advantages that God had put into our Hands, by a
long and profperous War; and now they would fee us giving up our Religion, and our
Liberties and Laws, by parting with the King and with his Family, whom we had cho-
fen and pitched upon, for no other Reaſon but for the Preſervation of that Religion,
and the ſecuring of thoſe Laws and Liberties. Were this a Nation to be loved or
feared, truſted or dealt withal? Is all their Zeal for Proteftantifm, all their Outcries
againſt Popery, all their Love of Liberty, and Exclamations againſt Arbitrary Power,
come to this? Who would regard fo falfe, fo foolish, and fo changeable a People?
Who when oppreffed, cry loud for a Deliverance, and when they have obtained it,
flight it and forget it; who dread the Enemy to-day, provide againſt him to-morrow,
and throw away their Fears and Arms the next Day after.
This Nation had been frequently and ftrongly alarmed with the Fears of Popery
in the Reign of King Charles II. who lived a fecret and died a profefs'd Papift. It faw
it enter like an armed Man in the Reign of King James II. and being firft frightened
as it were out of its Wits, and then into its Wits again, it joined the Prince of Orange,
made a Revolution, declared the People's Rights, and placed the Crown upon the
Prince and Princefs's Heads, with certain Limitations; and in the Seffion following,
difabled any Papiſt for the future, from being King or Queen of theſe Kingdoms for
ever after; having found it (as they expreſs it) utterly inconfiftent with the Safety and the
Welfare of it, for this Proteftant Kingdom to be governed by a Popish Prince. And again,
left theſe Limitations of the Succeffion ſhould determine, as indeed they did, with the
late King and the late Queen dying without Children, the King and Parliament made
further Provifion for the Succeffion of the Crown in the Proteftant Line, for the Hap-
piness of the Nation and the Security of our Religion, and fixed it to the Houſe of Ha-
nover, continuing Proteftant. And indeed it was abfolutely neceffary fo to do, for there
are no Proteſtants of that Royal Line of Stuart in the World, but what are of that
Houfe. This made me fay, that the utter Subverfion of the Proteſtant Religion in
theſe Kingdoms, muft be, in time, a natural and unavoidable Confequence of the
Deſtruction of this Houſe: After which fucceeds an endleſs Train of Popiſh Princes:
First, the Perfon that pretends to diſturb our Government at prefent; next the Dutchefs
of Savoy, a Lady growing into Years; then her Son the Prince of Piedmont, fourteen
Years of Age, but very weakly and infirm; after them by the fame Hereditary Right
the preſent King of France; if theſe ſhould fail, the three Children of the late Queen
of Spain claim by the fame Right, and twenty more that are in view, if it were
worth the while to reckon them. This is the goodly Proſpect that the Church of
England has of Princes, that are to be its nurfing Fathers, Heads and Governors,
whenever we ſhall lofe, by War or Treachery, the prefent KING and Royal Fa-
mily! Under which of all theſe Popiſh Princes is the Proteftant Religion like
to live and flourish in theſe Kingdoms? Which of them all will not, muft not,
by his Principles, think himſelf obliged to deſtroy it, as ſoon as he is able? I make
no queftion but Popiſh Princes are, in themſelves, as tender and good-natur'd, as wife
and confiderate, and underſtand their Intereft as well as any Proteftants whatever;
and where their Superftition is not concerned, they give good Proofs that they are ſo:
But wherever that comes in their way, they neither can nor muſt do as they other-
wife would, their fanguinary Zeal is too ftrong for their good Nature and Humanity,
too ſtrong for Reaſon, and even an Over-match for their apparent Intereft: There is
no truſting them; they may promiſe what they will, but they cannot perform what
they will, their Confciences are in another Man's keeping: Whether they ſhall ſwear
or no, is in their own Power, but it is not in their Power whether they ſhall keep thoſe
Oaths or no, if Herefy be concerned. There they may feek for Abfolution from their
Oaths, and there they may obtain it. No Oath can bind to Sin, that is very certain
with
688
A Sermon preached at Ely-Houfe Chapel,
with all Men; but to favour and preſerve the Proteftant Religion, when there is Power
and Opportunity to deftroy it, is certainly with them a Mortal Sin; the Confequence
is plain, it is to be deſtroyed when that Time comes; no Oath muſt hinder it. But
Princes do not always act up to their Principles, nor to the Obligations their Religion
lays them under: Very true. Look into Hiſtory then, and fee how it has been in
Fact. And if they can produce but one ſingle Inſtance of a Popiſh Prince, in all the
World, who did not, as foon as he had Power and Opportunity, fubvert the Prote-
ftant Religion, and do his best to root it out of his Dominions, we will then be con-
tent to diſmiſs our troubleſome Apprehenfions, and lay afide all Fears of fuch an Iffue
and Event. It would be a ſtrange thing, methinks, for a Nation to venture its Religion,
Safety, and Happineſs, upon the Word, the Promiſe, or the moſt folemn Oath of a
Man, whofe Principles will permit him to break that Oath, as foon as he can fecurely
do it; whoſe Intereft it may be to break it, whofe Confcience bids him break it, and
who thinks he ſhall pleaſe GOD, and do his Duty in breaking it. This Man, not-
withſtanding all thefe Encouragements to break it, may yet keep this Oath if he will:
But certainly it is too great a Risk for a Nation to run; and yet this Nation of ours
may run this Risk, if we can find one Inftance, one Example of a Popiſh Prince,
who made and kept fuch Oath inviolable, when he had Power and Opportunity of
breaking it.
Were I in any other Country of the World but this, I need not to have infifted
half ſo long upon a Point ſo plain as this is, that a Popiſh Prince is inconfiftent with
the Happineſs and Safety of a Proteftant People; and that let him lay himſelf under
what Ties, Obligations and Oaths he will, they will not hold him, when he has
Power and Opportunity of breaking through them. For the Papiſts abroad know
it, by Principles, that Herefy (and fo they call the Proteftant Religion) is not to be
fuffered where they can hinder it: And all the Proteftants abroad know it by woful
Experience. But here in England, within theſe five or fix Years laſt paſt, we are put
to prove every thing, even that the Sun fhines at Noon-day, if it make againſt Po-
pery; and after proving it, can hardly be believed, if it make againſt them or their
Friends, by any Confequence. The People of England can believe whatever they
will, if it be againſt the Government, tho' never fo ridiculous, unlikely and abfurd;
but nothing againſt their certain Enemies, who are both fecretly and openly attempt-
ing their Deſtruction, and making them themſelves the Tools and Inftruments of
their own Ruin; tho' this is plain in Reaſon, and evident by Obfervation and Expe-
rience, and true in Fact; i. e. they can be brought to believe that a Popiſh Prince may
both permit and protect a Proteftant Nation, in the free Exerciſe of their Religion,
when it is in his Power to fubvert it and deſtroy it: This, I ſay, is againſt all Rea-
ſon, and all Fact, againſt all Obfervation, and all the Experience of the World.
And therefore if there be any thing good and valuable in the Proteſtant Religion, or
any thing evil and mischievous in the Popish one, we have Reaſon to thank GOD
for the Preſervation of the one, and for our Deliverance from the other, i. e. for our
Succeſs againſt the Rebels, who, had they prevailed, muſt have ſubverted and de-
ſtroyed the one, and fettled the other in its Place; whatever ignorant, mad, beſotted
People may believe, or be taught to ſay, by thoſe who manage them.
Our Laws and Civil Liberties muſt alſo, in a little Time, have run the fame For-
tune with our Religion, had the Rebels prevailed. It is not the Climate, Air, or
Soil of a Country only, that makes a People happy; but the Laws, the Liberties,
and Privileges they enjoy, the Security that People have, to poffefs in Eaſe and Quiet
the Labours of their Hands, the Fruits of their own Induſtry, or the Inheritance of
their Fathers and Relations, without being ſubject to the Pillage and Oppreffion of
their infolent and arbitrary great Neighbours, or to the exorbitant Demands of their
own lawleſs Princes. It is upon thefe Accounts that any Country, but more efpeci-
ally our own, is a valuable and defirable Habitation, whatever other Inconveniences
it
on Thurſday, June 7, 1716.
68g
it may lie under, with refpect to inclement Airs, or to inconftant Seafons: Every body
abroad admires and envies us the Happineſs of our Conftitution; but this, and all the
good things that attend it, we muſt have parted with, had we been thoroughly ſub-
dued by our Enemies. Popery can never thrive under Liberty; nor can a conquered
Nation expect to have its old Laws left them: The Thoufands and ten Thouſands,
that muſt and would have been deſtroyed, in Defence of their King and Conftitution,
would have made it a Matter eafy enough for the Victors to have changed the Laws
entirely; and who indeed fhould oppofe them? It would be abfolutely neceffary to
the Security of themſelves and of their new Choice; the prefent Laws are all againſt
them, and therefore they would be againſt the prefent Laws. And who, as I faid,
fhould hinder them? The People that could and would, are ſuppoſed to be ſubdued;
the reſt are Slaves by Principle, and think they have Scripture for it. Laws that re-
ftrain a Prince, from doing what he will without Controul, are unrighteous Laws and
null in themſelves; Where the word of a king is, there is power, and who may fay to him,
What doeft thou? It would be almoſt Pity that theſe People ſhould not wear the Chains
they ſeem to court, and are indeed fo worthy of, if honefter People could eſcape them.
Theſe are the Evils we have been delivered from, by the Succeſs it pleafed God to crown
the Arms and Counfels of the King with, in fo foon fuppreffing the Rebellion. Theſe
are the natural, uſual, and expected Confequences of fuch a War as this, had it gone on.
They have not indeed, by God's good Providence, happened to us, and ſo we cannot
be ſo ſenſibly affected with them, as we ſhould, had they come in View, and threa-
tened us a little nearer. But in a religious Confideration of Things, the Mercy is the
greater, by how much fooner the Evil was prevented, which would naturally and cer-
tainly have followed. Our King is not depofed or flain, our Army is not routed,
our Friends are not diftreffed or ruined: Our Religion is not changed, nor our Laws
and Liberties fubverted. But had the Rebels gained the Day, theſe things, according
to human reckoning, muſt and would have come to paſs: The preventing them is
therefore a moſt reaſonable Ground and Subject of Thankſgiving to God. Let them,
then, give thanks, whom the Lord hath redeemed and delivered from the hand of the
enemy. And I doubt not, but fuch as can confider Matters thoroughly, and who
are ſeriouſly affected with Religion, who have any Honour and Eſteem for a Prince
and Family endued with all the Qualities that are proper to make a Nation happy,
and who have any true Concern for the Welfare and Profperity of their Country, both
will and do moſt ſeriouſly return their Thanks to God, for this Deliverance. As for
the reſt, it is not looked for at their Hands; they would be Hypocrites, and ſo much
wickeder than they are, by joining with us. They who have openly affifted
the Rebels, they who have fecretly encouraged and abetted them, with Money,
Counſel, or Provifions, or other uſeful Favours; they who have wifhed and prayed
for their Succefs, and they who have lamented their Defeat and Difappointment;
they who have filled the Streets with terrible Outcries upon the Cruelty of the Govern-
ment for executing a few of their Friends condemned by Law, but without any Pity
or Concern at all for more than three times the Number of the King's faithful Sub-
jects, who loft their Lives in the reducing them; they who express their Compaffion
on one fide only, and care not what befals the other----All theſe People ought not,
as 'tis likely they will not, join in a Thankſgiving, for what has difconcerted all their
Projects, and defeated all their treaſonable Hopes, and inſtead of the Sweetneſs of
Conqueft and Revenge, has left them nothing but Rage and Despair. Theſe People
are ſome of the very Enemies we are delivered from; not indeed from their Malice,
but from the Effects of it: The King's Enemies are not only they who appear againſt
him in the Field, but they who fit at home and ftrengthen their Hands, by the
Virulence of their Tongues, by their reviling of the King and Royal Family, by
their inventing, feeding and ſpreading Calumnies and Slanders, by faying any thing
themſelves, and believing to appearance whatever is faid by others, though never ſo
4 B b
improbable,
690
A Sermon preached at Ely-Houfe Chapel,
improbable, if it will contribute to the rendring them either odious or contemptible.
Theſe are the People that deal with the Name and Honour of one of the wifeſt,
beſt, and greateſt Princes in the World, as they would not deal with the Name and
Reputation of a Neighbour, were he of any Worth, Subftance, or Credit. Nor durft
they treat their Equals, or Inferiors, as they treat the Royal Family, refpected,
honoured and beloved, by all the World befides. Thefe People make us fcandalous
Abroad, fhew us not only void of Reafon, good Senſe and Underſtanding, not know-
ing when we are well, or what we would have, choofing and refufing, defiring and
rejecting, all in a Breath; but void of all good Nature alfo, and of all good Breeding,
and of every thing elſe that becomes a civil and polite People. There has been, as I
obſerved before, a very ſtrange Change in the World's Opinion of us; five or fix
Years ago, we were the Glory of all Nations, our Friendſhip and Alliance was
courted by every one, our Enmity was dreaded. We have been fince their Scorn and
Hiffing, and Averfion; they defpife us for our Inconftancy, and hate us for our
Perfidy and Falfhood. They deal with us now, as People do with one another,
whom they muſt by Neceffity deal with, and not out of Choice, with great Coldneſs,
Caution, and all manner of Referve; no Truft or Confidence, no Frankneſs, or
Dependence on our Truth and Honour. The King was the only Prince who was
capable of retrieving our loft Credit, and re-eſtabliſhing our Reputation; his Probity,
his Juſtice, Prudence, Firmness of Mind, and fteady Conduct, are fuch as States and
Princes abroad can truft to, and depend upon; and by a late moft uſeful and moſt
neceffary Act, the Ground of their Confidence and Truft is now moft happily en-
larged; they can now depend upon both King and Parliament. And by theſe
Means, if we be not wanting to ourſelves, we are in the way of becoming again an
happy, flouriſhing and honourable People. But theſe domeftick Enemies of his and
ours, are every Day deſtroying, or endeavouring to deſtroy our Credit, blaſting our
Hopes, dividing us at Home, and rendring us ſuſpected Abroad.
The Succeſs which it has pleaſed God to give the King, and which occafions our
affembling here at this Time, is fuch, as has driven his and the Nation's Enemies,
as far back as the Place from whence they firſt ſet out; they are in a manner to begin
their War anew, and muſt accordingly make the like neceffary Difpofitions, and
Preparations for it. They muft revive the old Calumnies, and muft add fome new
ones to them. They muſt retain again, in Pay, or Promife, or Encouragement, the
common Beggars in the Streets, the poor decayed Traders, the vicious Vagrants, the
profligate Libertines, and all the Proſtitutes of the Town: Theſe muſt again be lifted
into their Service, and have their Leffons of Slander and Reviling repeated to them ;
to theſe muſt be added ſome of the better Faſhion, but not much better Breeding;
of better Fortune, but not much better Judgment and Diſcretion; of more Virtue,
but not leſs Virulence, Rudeness and Outrage. Theſe are the People who are to join
in forming, and in ſpreading all Reports and Stories that may tend to keep alive, and
to renew the Ferment of the People, to irritate, exafperate, and inflame them more
and more againſt the King and Miniſtry, i. e. againſt their own Eaſe, Security and
Happineſs. Theſe are the Means and Methods they have hitherto uſed, to bring about
their mischievous Deſigns, and theſe they are ſtill to continue ufing, till they can find
another Opportunity of trying to put them in Execution: And therefore as we may
expect to hear of all theſe Scandals again and again, fo we may be the better pro-
vided againſt them, and know what Credit they and their Authors ſhall deferve. No
doubt but we ſhall hear, that the Church is again in Danger; do not believe it till
you fee or hear fome good Proof of it; fuffer not yourſelves to be carried away with
Noiſe and Outcries only; call for fome Evidence that may convince a reaſonable Man.
I have the more Ill-will to this unreaſonable Calumny, becauſe it is fo groundleſs and
fo miſchievous, becauſe it covers ſo many villainous Deſigns, and cheats ſo may
may inno-
cent
on Thurſday, June 7, 1716.
69t
cent well-meaning People. I have lived myſelf in and about this City, fix or feven
and twenty Years, and been as diligent and careful an Obſerver how things went,
with relation to the Church, as I could; and was as much concerned in its Welfare
as another; and yet I folemnly profefs, that neither in King William and Queen
Mary's joint Reign, nor in that excellent King's Reign when alone, nor in that of the
late Queen, nor in that of his prefent Majefty, have I been ever able to obfervé or fee,
that the Court or Government had any formed Defign to hurt or opprefs the Church,
either in point of Doctrine, Diſcipline, Ceremony, Privilege, or Profit. It is in pof-
feffion of all the Laws that were firft made for its Eſtabliſhment; it has obtained in
almoſt every King's Reign, new Laws for its Confirmation, Security, and Strength:
It has obtained whatever it has aſked, even to prevent fome of its Jealoufies and Fears.
But ſtill it has its Enemies; no doubt of it; it is in Danger ftill, and always was,
and always will be, to the World's end; but in no more nor other Danger, than
every national Church throughout the World is, always was, and always will be;
from the wicked Men of no Religion, from the Wickedness of many who profeſs
the true Religion, and from all the evil Paffions, Corruptions and bad Principles of
the Men that compoſe the Body of it. Wicked Men of good Abilities will always
be employed in all Governments; the Saints did never yet govern the Earth, nor ever
will. They are the Men of Judgment, Languages, Dexterity and Skill, that know
the World abroad, and all its Interefts, and that throughly underſtand Mankind, that
ever were employed, and ever muſt be uſed by States and Princes, whether they be
virtuous or religious, or no; that is their own Concern, and they must look to it.
Princes and States, if they will be ſecure, muſt have regard to ſuch Abilities and Qua-
lities, as are proper for their Service, and would, no question of it, be very glad to
have them all virtuous and religious; but they muſt often be content without the
latter, if they find the former. In Countries where the Clergy themſelves are Mini-
fters of State, and execute all the great Offices of the Country, why even there, there
is little or no regard had in the chufing them, to their fuperior Learning, Virtue, and
Religion, auftere Behaviour, and a holy Life, but to other Qualities mentioned be-
fore, even fuch and the fame as recommend Laymen to States and Princes, for their
Miniſters: And they do not think the Church is any ways endangered by vicious
Miniſters, if they be otherwife qualified by Faithfulneſs, by Diligence, and Applica-
tion to their proper Bufineffes. I do not mean hereby to yield fo far to the reigning
Calumny, as to fuppofe the preſent Miniſtry to be a vicious one, beyond what has
been before, for I am as fure of the contrary as one can be of any fuch matter.
But
I would fay, that fuppofing it were fo, yet is the Church in no Danger for that;
which yet helps much to make the Outcry greater, and more miſchievous.
I ſhould not make an end to-day, if I muſt ſay, what I could ſay with great
Reaſon, againſt this falſe and ſcandalous Calumny of the Church's being in Danger.
But I will content myſelf at preſent with making a ſhort Obfervation or two upon this
Article. The Firſt ſhall be, That not a Papiſt in all the Kingdom, that opens his
Mouth at all on theſe Occafions, but opens it in joining with this Cry, that the Church
is in Danger. He is as much concerned to have this thing believed, as the moſt ſin-
cere Churchman himſelf. They do not equivocate in this Matter, and mean by
Church, their own Church, but the Church of England, which they would have all
Men believe to be in Danger. And what is the Bottom of all this? Is it from pure
Affection to the Church of England, that they unite in this Cry? Are they indeed
concerned and touched with Grief, to think we are ſo nigh to Ruin? And would they
in earneſt help to fave us from it? Certainly the Matter is not ſo, but plainly other-
wife. They have a greater End to ferve in it. They join in the Cry to make the
greater Noiſe, to gain more Credit to it, to increaſe the Number of the Difaffected,
to make the Populace more inraged and violent, in order to diſpoſe them better to
Tumult
692
A Sermon preached at Ely-Houfe Chapel, &c.
Tumult and Sedition, and laftly, to Rebellion. "Tis for the fame Reaſon that all the
Enemies of the Government befides join in this Cry, and ufe their utmoſt Art and
Induſtry to gain more People to believe it; they add thereby Numbers and Strength
to their Cauſe, which may be uſeful upon Occaſion.
The other Obſervation I will make under this Head ſhall be----That the Cry of
the Church's Danger ceafed intirely for the three or four laſt Years of the late Queen,
when a new ſet of Men were employed in the Miniſtry, ſome of the greateſt of
which are now actually in the Service of the Pretender, and others vehemently fufpe-
cted to have been in the fame Intereft. Under thefe People's Adminiftration the
Church was fafe, it ſeems, and we were no farther alarmed with any Apprehenfion
of its Danger; the Cry and their Fears ended together. Strange Fortune! That the
Church ſhould be only fafe in the Hands of thoſe Men, who had brought the State
to the very brink of Ruin! I leave theſe two Obfervations of the Cry of the Church's
Danger to be ſeriouſly confidered: And only defire, that People would be fo reafon-
able, as never to liſten to, or believe fuch an outrageous Slander againſt ſo truly good
and fincere a Prince, and thoſe whom he intrufts with his Affairs, without fuch
Proof and Evidence as are convincing, plain, and undeniable. He comes to Church
himſelf, and his Behaviour there is handfome, decent, ferious and exemplary; he
has given his Oath, his Promife, and Affurance for Protection and all Favour to it;
and whatever others have done to him, he has in no Particular either falfified his
Word, gone from his Promife, or broken his Oath.
I have not Time to fpeak to the other Slanders which you have heard ſo often, and
which you will certainly hear again; you may rank them in the fame Clafs, for
Truth and Probability, with that which I have mentioned: And I only defire you to
take the fame Courſe with them, i. e. to give them no more Credit than they deſerve,
by the Proof and Evidence they fhall carry along with them. See with your own
Eyes, hear with your own Ears, and truft your own Senſes; think what is reaſonable
and probable, and judge indifferently of Matters; and if the People of England will
do their Duty, I dare anſwer for it, that every Day the KING lives, they will have
more and more Reaſon to bleſs GOD for bringing him to the Throne, and to pray
that he may long fit thereon; and be fucceeded (in his good Time) by a Race of
virtuous and religious Proteftant Princes, as long as we ſhall be a Kingdom of Pro-
teftants, that is, I hope, for ever.
A CHARGE
693
Á
CHARGE
RG
Delivered to the CLERGY of the Diocefe of
Ely, at Cambridge, August 7, 1716. at his Primary VISITATION.
W
HEN by God's Providence, through the KING's Favour, I was (with-
out any fingle Step of mine, direct or indirect) tranflated to this See,
and intended according to Cuſtom, to make my Primary Vifitation, the
firft Year, I could not but think it very fortunate for me, that fince we
had loft the QUEEN, and, with her, all the Hopes that had been laid up
up in that pre-
cious Life, I could congratulate the Clergy of this Diocefe, with the Succeffion of the
House of HANOVER, which promifed, according to human Reckonings, almoſt a
Perpetuity of Proteftant Princes, to govern, patronize, protect and favour the Church
of England. A Profpect, that no Clergyman now living ever had before! For tho'
the Children of King CHARLES the First were many, and five of them lived to fee
the happy Reſtoration of their Family, and of our antient Government both in Church
and State, yet two of them were taken away within the Year, of whofe Religion
we were moſt and beſt affured. The Duke of GLOUCESTER died unmarried; and
the Princeſs of ORANGE, but the Mother of one weakly tender Child, who then was
little heeded in the World, tho' fince, he lived to be our KING; and, if the Nations
round about may be allowed to judge, one of the greateſt Princes that we ever had.
Of the three furviving ones, the Princess HENRIETTA was bred up by her Mother,
and married into France, fo that the Succeffion on that Side was what no Church of
England Man could think upon, with any Comfort. As to the KING himſelf, he was
quickly after married, to a Princeſs of great Virtue, and many excellent Endowments,
but of a wrong Religion for our Good, and from whom the Nation in a little time
had too much caufe to think there would come no Children. This, by the gene-
rality of People then living, was accounted a great Misfortune to this Nation; and ſo it
had certainly been, had that fine Prince, with his many excellent engaging Qualities,
been but fincerely ours: But they who knew him well, knew he was not; and he
himſelf, when all his worldly Views and Interefts were at an end, confefs'd he was not.
Which juſtified what many Men boldly affirm'd, becauſe they knew it fo, before;
what many more did certainly believe, but were more cautious in affirming, becauſe
of Temporal Inconveniences; and what many thouſands more did vehemently fu-
ſpect, namely, that from the time he came among us, his Heart was never truly with
us; altho' the Date of his and our Misfortune in that Point, muft be put a little
higher. So that the Hopes of all the Nation, with respect to the Succeffion, centred
in the Duke of YORK; of whom I need to fay nothing, and of whom indeed I can fay
nothing better, than that he was the Father of two fuch Daughters, both our QUEENS,
as did him Honour that will live for ever. Of theſe two Princeffes, the one both lived
and died Childlefs; the other died fo, tho' fhe was the Mother of many Children,
and of one who was of great Hopes, and of fome Continuance with us.
This was the ſhort and broken Profpect of Succeffion, that the Nation had for ma-
ny Years; a Profpect that afforded little folid Satisfaction, to fuch as truly loved their
Country, and wiſhed well to their Religion, and could look before them. But this
was all that could be had, till it pleafed God, for the better Security of both, to put
tit
4 C c
into
694
A CHARGE delivered to the Clergy
into the Hearts both of the KING and Parliament, to fettle the Succeffion on the firft
Proteftant Branch, of the fame Royal Family of the STUARTS; which has now ta-
ken place, in the Perfon of our preſent King, who ftands in the fame Degree to
King JAMES the First with the late QUEEN, the one by a Son, the other by a Daugh-
ter; the Popish Branches being all cut off, by the fame competent Authority, as ut-
terly inconfiftent with the Welfare of this Nation.
This was the Happineſs, upon which I purpoſed to congratulate thoſe, over whom
I was fet by the divine Permiffion, at my firſt coming to them. And indeed, upon
the QUEEN'S Demife, I thought it was the greateſt in the World that could befal us
all, and that nothing elſe could make that Lofs fit tolerably eaſy, on a Churchman's
Mind. For what Condition ſhould we have been in, had it been otherwiſe?
As matters now ftand, and have long ftood, the fecular Interefts of the Church
are fo involved and interwoven with thoſe of the State, that, as I think it would be
hard to feparate them, without the hurting of them both (as all the Experiments that
have been made that way have ſhewn) ſo I dare fay the one can never flouriſh fingly,
without the other. And therefore, whatever the warm Heads and gay Hearts may
conceive, imagine, wiſh, and talk, the fober and confiderate ones will always find it
to the Church's Advantage, to be as cloſely united to the State, in all its publick Inte-
refts, as it can poffibly be, faving its Loyalty to Chrift the Lord its Head in Heaven,
in Matters merely fpiritual. I did therefore think, and ſtill do, that the Profpect of
a Succeffion of Proteftant Princes of fuch Continuance and Extent, as it has pleaſed
God to ſet within our View, as it was of the greateſt Importance to the State, ſo it
would be one of the welcomeft Subjects a Biſhop could ſpeak on, to a Body of Pro-
teſtant Clergy, who would, I thought, be fooner fenfible than other People, of fo
great a Bleffing. There is nothing more eſtabliſhes the Hearts of all forts of People,
of
every Rank and Quality, of every Order and Degree amongſt Men, than a good
View of what is like to follow: Nothing that ſets them more at eaſe and quiet, than
to think they ſhall themſelves enjoy, and leave to their Poſterity, the fame good Go-
vernment both in Church and State, the fame good Laws, the fame great Liberties
and Privileges, envied by all the Subjects in the World befides. And of all theſe Blef-
fings there cannot be a better, hardly any other, Security and Pledge, than a fruit-
ful Royal Line, of the fame Interefts and Religion with ourſelves. To all theſe
things, I thought, at that time, to have ſpoken at large: But being hindred from
coming among you, fomething by my Attendance on the Parliament, but more by
my Infirmities and bad Health, I had not the Opportunity of doing it; and think it
ſeaſonable, at this time, but juſt to mention it, in the Manner I have done.
Upon this Diſappointment, I was put to bethink myſelf again, on what Subject I
might ſpeak moſt uſefully to you; for as to all other ways of fpeaking, I would not
uſe them if I could. And here the little Acquaintance I had with the Temper and
Difpofition of the People in general, and with the Learning, Manners, and Qualifi-
cations of thoſe who make up the proper Audience, upon
Audience, upon thefe Occafions, would not
permit me to ſpeak as home, and pertinently, as I might do upon a fuller Knowledge
of the Dioceſe. It was therefore left to me, to ſpeak in Generals only, and from the
Excellence and Dignity as well as Difficulties of the Paftoral Office, to frame an Ex-
hortation, both to myſelf and every one of you, to fuch a careful and conſcientious
Diſcharge, each of us, of our ſeveral Parts, as may anfwer the Ends of our holy Inftitu-
tion, and fatisfy the Obligations we have laid upon ourſelves, when firft we under-
took our Offices; fuch, in a Word, ſuch a Diſcharge, as will fupport and comfort us
in the laſt Day, when the great Lord and Maſter of us all fhall call us, every one of
us, to an Account, each of his Stewardſhip.
Of the Dignity and Excellence of our moft holy Calling, the Scriptures have
ſpoken ſo much, ſo plainly, fully, and expreffly, that there is little Need of amaf-
fing
of the Dioceſe of Ely, at Cambridge, Aug. 7, 1716.
695
fing the Paffages together, and repeating them to fuch an Affembly as this. And as
for the Attempts of the Profane, the Scornful, the Witty, and Malicious Spirits of
the Age, to vilify and bring it into Difrepute, they are no other than what have al-
ways been, and always are to be expected. Our Care must only be, that we our-
felves contribute nothing to it, by our Imprudence, or our Negligence, our Ignorance
or Ill-behaviour of our felves. Religion is fo uſeful and fo neceffary to the Well-being
of the World, and fo perfective of human Nature, that it commands the Efteem of
all Men, and obtains it of all that are reaſonable. There never was a Country, in
any manner civilized, without Religion; nor have any of our Travellers, in their
Diſcoveries either of the old or new World, found any populous Town or City with-
out a Temple or Place of publick Worſhip. Nor was there ever any Religion pro-
feffed, without its Prieſts and Miniſters; nor Prieſts and Minifters without their Ho-
nours, Privileges, and Revenues: Nor, I may alfo add, were ever any Prieſts and´
Minifters without their Enviers, Maligners, and Traducers; who yet were never able
to perſuade the World out of their Religion, or the Neceflity of Perfons ſet apart for
the Adminiſtration of its Offices. It is by no means new, or of yefterday's Growth,
that Men employed in facred Offices ſhould be infulted, injured, railed upon, and
evil ſpoken of; Complaints of that Kind are as old as any Accounts we have, and
that in all Places, and under all Religions. But the Men of one Age fuffer for them-
felves, and confequently are more fenfible of the Evil, than they can be of what they
read, as done in former Times: One or two Injuries that a Man himſelf feels, make
deeper Impreffion than twenty Relations of the like, fuffered by others; and his Com-
plaints will be a great deal louder; but his Complaints will not be heard forty Years
hence, if he be dead; or if they ſhould be read in Books, they will not be attended
to as lefs Complaints will be of one who fuffers then. And fo it is with thoſe which
we fee with our Eyes; they affect us much more than thoſe which we hear with our
Ears, tho' credibly reported and believed. Say not thou, What is the cause that the
former days were better than these? for thou doft not inquire wifely concerning this, faith
Solomon, Eccl. vii. 10. Complaints and Accufations of this Kind are older, we fee,
than any Books we have; the People of his Days were inclined to magnify the for-
mer Times, at the Expence, and to the Diminution of their own: The Reaſon is,
we are not fo well acquainted with the former Times, as with our own: Hiſtory is
one thing, and Experience is another; and Things at diftance fhew much leſs than
thoſe which are at hand. And indeed it cannot well be otherwiſe, than that the
Effects fhould be near the fame in all Times, when the fame Caufes are in Being and
in Force. The Paffions of Men are, generally, the fame at all times; the Provoca-
tions that Men give to Injuries are much the fame; and the Handles and Occafions
that Men take hold of, differ not much, at different Times: And fince thefe are, ge-
nerally, the Sources of Mens Sufferings and Complaints, no marvel if the Streams run
very near alike at all times. And after all, it may be, all theſe conftant Railings at,
Injuries, Infults, and Attempts to vilify the Miniſtry, may make one fort of Proof
of the Excellence and Ufefulneſs of our holy Calling; for were it not of great Impor-
tance, it would not be ſo much taken notice of; if it were not very troubleſome to
wicked People, it would not be ſo maligned by them. It is the conftant Check and
Controul that is laid upon Men of unfound Principles, and immoral Practices, by the
good Learning, Virtue, Zeal, and Vigilance of God's more immediate Servants, that
is the true ſubſtantial Cauſe, at the bottom, of much of that Ill-will with which
they are purfued, and of the evil Ufage they find at their Neighbours Hands; which
is to their Commendation here, and will be to the Increaſe of their Reward hereafter.
Theſe things I have been the rather led to fay, that, if the modern Complaints of
this kind ſhould, moſt of them, be true; and Report, herein alone, no Liar; if
Invention had no hand in framing them, nor Malice in improving them, nor any Ar-
tifice
696
A CHARGE delivered to the Clergy
tifice were uſed in fpreading, feeding and fomenting them, they would not yet be
any harder Reflection on the Age, or Prince, or Government, under which they hap-
pen, than Complaints of the like kind were heretofore, in other Times, in other
Princes Reigns, and other Governments. 'Tis what is natural, 'tis what is uſual,
and common to all Ages: It has happened in all KINGS Reigns, in which the oldeſt
of us lived; our Fathers made the fame Complaints; and if we read ftill backwards,
we fhall find the fame thing: Nor is there any Remedy for this Mifchief, that is
effectual: A total Stop to Peoples Petulance and Malice, is what was never yet
found out, nor ever will be. It is not quite the fame thing in Popish Countries, but
it is not much better. As they have naturally and unavoidably more profane and
impious Scoffers at Religion than we have, as having much more Provocation to de-
ride the reigning Superſtition of their Countries, with ſo many folemn Fooleries; fo
they do often fly out, and break through all the Reſtraints of Decency, and Cuſtom,
Law, and Puniſhment, and treat the Clergy with opprobrious Language and Con-
tempt. And even in Countries where they have a Hell on Earth to torment Offen-
ders againſt themſelves in, as well as one to threaten Men hereafter with, which is
not dreaded half fo much ---- even in thofe Places, where the Inquifition rages, the
Tongues of Men will not be totally reftrained, but they will utter their Reproaches,
and their Scandals, tho' with more Caution, Ambiguity, and a more guarded Ma-
lice: Which I mention only to fhew, that no Severity, no Power, no Laws, can
ever totally fupprefs thefe cruel and outrageous Licenſes; and therefore that we are
by no means to think our Cafe fingular, however hardly and injuriouſly we may be
treated by a perverfe Generation. We may fay, I hope, as St. Paul faid of himſelf,
and all true Ifraelites (making all due Allowances) We, brethren, as Ifaac was, are
the children of promiſe : but as then, he that was born after the flesh, perfecuted him
that was born after the spirit, even fo it is now: And I doubt I may alſo add,
(though it is not Scripture) So it will always be.
But after all, I think we cannot help both feeing and acknowledging, that God
hath put it very much into all our Hands, both to conciliate and preferve in a great
meaſure, that Love, Refpect, Efteem, and Honour which is fo due to the Excellence
and Dignity of our holy Calling, by putting it into our Power, to execute our Office
carefully and confcientiously, with as much Prudence and Difcretion as we can. And
indeed, unleſs we do our utmoſt Diligence to fulfil the ſeveral Parts of our Miniftry,
in the moſt ſerious, ufeful, and moft edifying manner we are able, we fhall not con-
vince the World, that we ourſelves do either underſtand fufficiently the Importance
of our Office, or have it in that Honour and Efteem we ought to have, and are
defirous they ſhould have it in. As bad as the World is, Religion has not quite loft
its Power, nor its Minifters their Awe and Influence upon People's Minds, if proper
Applications be but made, in proper Time, and Place, and other feaſonable Circum-
ftances. As bad as the World is, it has certainly fomething to ſay in its Defence ſtill,
which were it exactly true, abundance of Complaints would be better ſpared, than
made with any Noife. If Men accufe us of neglecting to diſcharge our Duties, or
of Ill-management and Indiſcretion in difcharging them; if they accufe us of noto-
rious Infufficiency, reproachful Ignorance and Unfkilfulneſs in matters properly re-
lating to our Calling; but, above all, if they can charge us with immoral Practices,
in giving them a bad Example, we never are to look for that Reſpect, Efteem
and Honour, which are only due to virtuous, learned, and difcreet Clergymen. Let
us look for what we will, the World will ftill have more Regard to our perfonal
Qualifications, than to the Dignity of our Calling; they will not reverence us for
what we ſhould be, but for what they fee and find in us. 'Tis fo in all other
Cafes; let the Profeffions of Law and Phyfick be never fo honourable, becauſe ſo uſe-
ful and ſo neceffary to the Prefervation of our Health, Eftates, and Property, yet
who
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697
who knows how to value and eſteem a Practicer in either of thoſe Faculties, if he
want either Skill or Honefty? if he either does not underſtand our Cafe, or does
not uſe his Underſtanding to our Benefit and Relief? Nor would it alter the Matter
much, if God himſelf had pofitively inſtituted thofe Profeffions; for no Authority,
Command, or Power, can create an Efteem or Love, in People's Minds, of either
Things or Perfons, unless they find, or believe, that there is fomething eftimable or
lovely in them. The outward Marks of Honour and Reſpect may be paid, by vir-
tue of Command, and muſt be if commanded, and are, moreover, ufeful to fome
Purpoſes. But if we would be inwardly eſteemed, we muſt endeavour to deſerve it,
and lay the Foundation of it, in ourſelves, in the Ufe and Exerciſe of thoſe good
Qualities, Abilities, and Powers, that God hath given us, for the Service and Edifi-
cation both of ourſelves and thoſe who are committed to our Care.
It will not be at all to our Advantage, to tell the People, though from Scripture,
with any Air of Exaltation or Authority, that we are Chrift's immediate Servants,
Stewards of his Houfhold, Difpenfers of his Word and Sacraments, his Meffengers,
his Watchmen, and the Shepherds of his Flock, nay more, a Royal Prieſthood, his
Embaffadors, and Angels: Unlcfs we can alfo fay, unleſs the People alfo fee and
know, that we have, in fome good meaſure, fulfilled the Parts belonging to thoſe
Officers, to whom thoſe great Titles do indeed belong. Our Office is then only
rightly magnified, when it is well diſcharged: And we only wear thoſe Honours
creditably, when we have gained them by our faithful Service in this Warfare. This
is the Uſe we are to put theſe figurative Titles to, which are fo frequent in the Scri-
ptures; they are to put us ftill in mind, of being what we undertook to be, when
we were dedicated to God's Service; juft as the Name of Saints was to remind the
Chriſtians in St. Paul's time, of what they ought to be, and what they had, in Bap-
tiſm, engaged to be. And this is the Ufe, which our wife and well-compofed Office,
of Ordering Priefts, calls and requires us to make of them. When it has done ex-
horting us, to have in our Remembrance, into how high a Dignity, and to how weighty
an Office we are called, i. e. to be Meffengers, Watchmen, and Stewards of the Lord,
to teach, and to premoniſh, to feed and provide for the Lord's Family, with other great
things, it makes this Uſe and Application of them-----Have always therefore printed
in your Remembrance, how great a Treafure is committed to your Charge----for they
are the Sheep of Chrift, which he bought with his Death, and for whom he ſhed his
Blood. The Church and Congregation, whom you must ferve, is his Spoufe, and his
Body; and if it ſhall happen the fame Church, or any Member thereof, to take any Hurt
or Hindrance, by reason of your Negligence, you know the greatness of the Fault, and
alfo the horrible Punishment that will enfue. Wherefore confider with yourselves, the
End of your Miniftry towards the Children of God, towards the Spouse and Body of
Christ, and fee that you never cease your Labour, your Care, and Diligence, until you
have done all that lieth in you, according to your bounden Duty, to bring all fuch as
are, or ſhall be committed to your Charge, unto that Agreement in the Faith, and
Knowledge of God, and to that Ripeness and Perfectness of Age in Chrift, that there
be no place left amongst you, either for Error in Religion, or for Viciouſneſs in Life.
You ſee where all our Honours, and Titles, and great Names end; and wherein
does eſpecially confift the Excellence and Dignity of our Office: It is, in being good
ourſelves, and doing all the Good we can to others, whilft we live in this World:
To be continually endeavouring to fave ourſelves, and thoſe who hear us. "Tis, in
behaving ourſelves fuitably to the Names that are given us; and anſwering to the
Parts that are affigned to us, in the great Work of Man's Salvation: 'Tis doing, with
relation to Chriſt, and to his Family, juſt as we think our Stewards and Diſpenſers
of our Goods ſhould do with relation to us and our Houfhold, if we were qualified
to keep fuch Servants: We would expect they ſhould be found faithful, and careful
4 D d
Dd
in
ດ
698
À CHARGE delivered to the Clergy
in their Buſineſs. We look that our Meſſengers fhould go as they are fent, and do
their Errands readily, directly, and exactly as we bid them. Our Watchmen muſt
be wakeful, have all their Senfes quick about them, look too and fro, warn us againſt
our Danger, and alarm us when the Enemy is near Our Shepherds, we expect,
fhould know their Flocks, keep them together all they can, fearch for the wander-
ing ones, and drive them gently to their Folds again, and be exceeding careful of
them all, to preferve them againſt all Beaſts of Prey, and all infectious Distempers.
The very Name of an Embajador puts noble Thoughts into our Hearts, and fills us
with great Images; but tells us plainly, that he muſt be always careful, neither to
fay nor do, what may reflect Difhonour on his Mafter and great Principal.
Thus thefe Titles ferve to inftruct us in our Duty, and excite us to it. And when
they operate thus effectually upon our Minds, they make us what we are called, and
give us a Right to our honourable Names here, as they will, through God's great
Mercies in our Lord, give us a glorious Crown of Recompence hereafter. And I
need not ſay again, that without our Care to deſerve them, and make our Claim
good to them, they will not be barely vain and light Titles, but they will go along
with us to Judgment, accufe, reproach, and condemn us, and weigh us down into
a greater Depth of Miſery.
Having spoken thus much to the Dignity and Excellence of our high Calling,
and to the ways by which they will be beft preferved and kept up, I fhall be
allowed (as indeed there will be leſs Occafion) to ſpeak the lefs to the Difficulties
that attend it. The Form of Ordination joins them cloſely, and makes the ſame
Ufe of the Confideration of the latter, as of the former; and nothing truly can be
better than that Uſe of it. Forafmuch then (fays that good Form) as your Office is
both of fo great Excellency, and of fo great Difficulty, you fee with how great Care
and Study you ought to apply yourfelves, as well that you may fhew yourselves dutiful
and thankful to that Lord, who hath placed you in fo high a Dignity; as alfo to be-
ware, that neither you yourselves offend, nor be occafion that others offend. The Diffi-
culties that attend our Calling may be confidered, either with regard to the Qualifica-
tions that are requifite to the making a good Clergyman; or to the Pains and Care
he muſt be at, to the well-difcharging his Duty; or to the Trouble, Oppofition,
and Ill-will, that may arife, and he may meet with, in and from his well difcharg-
ing it.
As to the Qualifications that are requifite to make a compleat Clergyman, if we
ſhould confult the Writings of fome very famous Chriftian Biſhops, and others, of
old, and be obliged to believe them, without departing from them in the leaft, we
ſhould find them fo great, fo many, and fo hard to be obtained, that as I am fure
for my own part, fo I may reaſonably fear, that many of this Affembly, defpairing
of fuch Attainments, muſt have betaken ourſelves to other Callings, who ve I
hope, ſhall give a good Account to God, each of our Stewardship. I have often
wondred with myſelf, that Men who were as wife and learned, as they were reli-
gious, ſhould write in fo difcouraging a manner; fhould reprefent it fo exceeding
difficult, for a Man to be qualified for holy Orders, that not one modeſt humble
Chriſtian, of five hundred, would prefume to offer himſelf to that Service; nor
many more, if others muſt alſo judge of them according to thofe rigid Rules.
Theſe Men were great Orators in their way; but it is not only a falfe Eloquence,
but a miſchievous one, that, treating about general Duties, raiſes them ſo high, that
they become impracticable: So that what God commands us all to do, and by com-
manding fhews we all can do, thefe Rhetoricians would perfuade us few or none
can do; and inſtead of animating our Hopes, give us Defpair, immediately.
According to the Flights and Exaggerations of theſe devout and over-fervid Spirits,
a very few People, were they ferious, would ever go into holy Orders; which fhould
it
of the Diocefe of Ely, at Cambridge, Aug. 7, 1716. 699
it ever happen, would be very prejudicial to Religion; though over-ſtocking the
Church is alfo not without its Mifchief. There was fomething like this happened,
in the matter of the bleffed Sacrament, which may partly account for it. For the
two or three firft Centuries the generality of Chriftians did frequently, even every
Lord's Day, partake of the Lord's Supper; but this their Frequency did naturally
abate much of their Devotion, in the Performance of that holy Service; which godly
zealous Men perceiving, fet themſelves to write and preach upon that Subject; and,
to raiſe the People's devout Affections, and revive their antient Fervors, faid ſo many
fine exalted things, ufed fo many ftrong and bold Allufions, and lively figurative
Repreſentations, both of the Priest, and Sacrifice, and Prefence, that they quickly
made the Duty of Preparation fo difficult, and the Danger of coming to that Table
fo great and dreadful, that even good People were afraid to venture; and rather
choſe to ſtay away, although invited to that Supper, than come without what was
then made to be the Wedding-Garment. Thus good well-meaning Men do often
cure one Miſchief by another, and till they have tried, they know not which is
greater. Not unlike to this ---- In the Days of Perfecution, and when the Clergy
were firſt ſought after, and in greateſt Danger, as they always were, we may very
well prefume, that they were not abundantly more in number, than might ſerve the
Neceffities of the Church; the Wiſdom of its Governors would find it neceffary to
reſtrain all Forwardneſs that way, and to hazard no more than they needs muſt. But
when the Emperors became Chriftians, and thought they could never be magnificent
and bountiful enough, in building and endowing Churches, and in favouring Church-
men; and when the great Men of the World thought they could make no better
Court to their great Maſters, than by following their Examples; perfuaded alſo of
the Excellence of their new Religion, and that whatever they beſtowed upon the
Servants of Chrift, was very acceptable to him, and would be rewarded by him:
When this was the Condition of the Church, and growing daily better; when it be-
came not only fafe, but honourable, and advantageous too, to be a Clergyman; we
need not doubt, but Men betook themſelves to this Profeffion in great Numbers; as
well thoſe who came with a good Confcience, and moft fincere Intentions of ferving
God in the Miniſtry, let the Times be what they would; as thoſe who were in-
vited to it by the Tranquillity and Peace the Church enjoyed; as alſo thoſe who
had their Eyes upon the Profits and Preferments which they hoped to find. And if,
among them, there were many ignorant, careleſs, and neglectful ones, many ambi-
tious, covetous, and very worldly-minded Men-----as we need not much wonder, fo
we may well imagine, that the Scandal which theſe People gave, and the great Fears
that things would ftill grow worfe and worſe, if not prevented by fome means, might
move the Men of nobler Principles, of better Learning, higher Stations, greater
Sanctity, and more auftere Behaviour, to preach and write about theſe Matters, in
fuch a way, as would, they thought, fooneft repreſs that Forwardneſs of entring into
holy Orders, which was likely to turn to no good Account. And this they would
moſt naturally do, by overftraining every part of Duty, and running every thing to
ſuch a Height, that few could think of reaching it. They would multiply Quali-
fications, and magnify each Particular: Whatever was great and good, would im-
mediately become neceffary; and nothing below Perfection be admitted: The Trea-
fure which was heretofore, in St. Paul's time, had in earthen Veffels, muft now be put
into nothing but Gold and Silver ---- This is, after all, but my Conjecture, grounded
on fome Hints left us in Hiftory; becauſe I would fain find out fome Excufe, for
thoſe Exceffes which appear in theſe great Men's Difcourfes upon the Priesthood and
the Paftoral Office; which were they to be literally and ſtrictly underſtood, would
frighten all, but very wicked impious ones, from undertaking any part of it. And I
doubt I might ſay of the Biſhops and Prieſts of any one Age, what old Theognis with
fome
700
A CHARGE delivered to the Clergy
fome Pleaſantry faid of the perfectly good Men in his
would hold them all.
He thought a Wherry-boat
But 'tis very well for us, that theſe great Men's Examples relieve us, againſt the
Rigour of their Rules and Inftructions; for, after all they have faid, they were them-
felves Biſhops and Presbyters, and though very learned and very good, yet not ſo fu-
perlatively ſo, but that others might and did equal them. Some of them fled indeed
from Ordination, as they would from Miſchief, and hid themselves as from an Enemy:
But they were found at laft, and overtaken, and caught, and ordained, and made,
by a religious fort of Violence, to undergo thofe Offices, and difcharged them
paffing well, from which they had deterred both themſelves and others, by the
Repreſentations and Deſcriptions they had made of their infuperable Difficulties. So
that if any one be fcrupulous and frightned at what St. Chryfoftome, St. Ambrofe, or
St. Gregory, or others have faid upon this Article, they may take heart again, at
what they did and practifed. I do not mean this, or fay it, to the diminution of
their Credit and Authority, in general: But I would have no body fo much Lofers
by their Reverence of Antiquity, as not to reafon themſelves, and confider things in
their own Nature, and with their accidental Circumftances, and judge, as thofe did
who went before them.
The Paſtoral Office was at firſt, as it muſt needs be, in the Hands of a few, and
thoſe fanctified and fet apart to the Work of the Miniſtry by the Holy Ghoſt, and
qualified in an extraordinary and wonderful Manner to diſcharge it: But this was
not to be the conftant Method of chufing and appointing Succeffors. The Gover-
nors of the Church were not long under the immediate Influence and Direction of
the bleſſed Spirit, to fhew them who were fitly qualified for the Offices that were to
be fupplied: But they were left to the Guidance of their Reaſon, and Prudence,
Obfervation and Experience; and chofe, juft as the wife Men of the World would
chufe, to fill up Places of Importance with Men as well qualified and proper for the
Purpoſe as they could get. If they found good Senfe and Underſtanding, there was
no great Inquiry after Learning, becauſe there was then no great Need of it, for they
had generally but one Tongue, and that their Mother-tongue. The Latins, indeed,
looked upon Greek much as we do upon French, the better Sort learned it for Plea-
fure and Accompliſhment; but this, like other Parts of Good-breeding, fpread not
far. It does not appear that the Greeks had that Regard to Latin, even when the
Emperors refided in the Weft, and were moſtly at Rome. So that they were only put
to learn to talk and read gracefully their native Language. In this the antient Clergy,
both of the Eaſt and Weft, had a great Advantage over us, and all who followed
them, who ſpend a great part of our fhort Lives in getting a little Latin and Greek,
and are thought to have no Learning till we have Languages. I cannot chuſe but
think this to be a great Difficulty, and an Impediment in the Purſuit of other uſeful
Knowledge; but yet it is not to be remedied; nor would it be for our Good to re-
move it if we could, becauſe, throughout the Chriftian World, where it is moft re-
moved, there is the greateſt Ignorance and Barbariſm, and the Chriftian Doctrine
moſt corrupted; as appears very much in France, more in Italy, and most of all in
Spain: And in our own Country we all of us feel of how great Service it is to be ac-
counted learned by our People; and that where the Fame is otherwiſe, our Credit is
but little with them. But to return to what I was about ----- As Chriſtianity pre-
vailed in the World, and the Number of the faithful Flock increaſed, the Number
of the Chriſtian Paſtors muſt increaſe proportionably alfo; and he who reckons that
a great Number may be as well qualified as a ſmall Number may be, may think he
reckons with Reaſon, but will furely find he reckons wrong, upon Experience. Now
if ten thouſand People be abfolutely neceffary to the well-diſcharging a great Office,
would it be Wiſdom to require fuch Qualifications in each Competitor, as fcarce a
-
hundred
of the Dioceſe of Ely, at Cambridge, Aug. 7, 1716.
701
hundred of that Number could honeſtly pretend to bring along with them? Nor is
it any more to the Credit or Service of the Church to preſcribe abundance of ſtrict
preliminary Rules, when, if it would be ſerved at all, it muſt admit of as many Relaxa-
tions; or to make a world of things neceffary in Profeffion, when it muſt be content
with the good Obfervance of a few, when we come to Practice and Application.
In this the Wiſdom, Prudence, and Moderation of the Church of England, as in
all other things, appears confpicuous: She does not preſcribe fuch Qualifications as
ſhe can only wiſh and pray might be the Portion of all her Prieſts and Miniſters, but
fuch as ſhe may reaſonably hope they may, and expect they should, bring along with
them; fuch as, with the ordinary Affiftance of God's Grace, and their own Dili-
gence, and Care, and Pains and Study, they may be furniſhed withal. An honeſt
and an upright Heart, above all things, full of fincere and ſerious Refolutions of
ſerving God in the beſt manner we can in our holy Calling, by edifying the People
committed to our Care, both by our teaching and our living. This, with a Compe-
tency of Learning at the firft, Hope of Proficiency, and Promiſe of endeavouring to
increaſe in all the Parts of uſeful Knowledge, as we have Opportunity, the Church
accounts fufficient, and accepts upon thefe Terms her Candidates for holy Orders.
The Difficulties therefore of our Calling, as they imply the Qualifications that are
previouſly required of thoſe who are to enter on it, are not fo great as to diſcourage
Men of honeſt Minds, ferious Difpofitions, well-tempered Zeal, and moderate Abi-
lities, from undertaking it.
As to the Difficulties that relate to the Care and Pains Men muſt be at, to the well
diſcharging the Duties of their Calling; or to the Trouble, Oppofition and Ill-will,
that may ariſe, and they may meet with, in and from their well diſcharging it, they
are not fo great in themſelves, as to frighten a Man of Virtue and Refolution; tho'
accidentally they may be, and fometimes are, exceedingly great and many, partly
through the Folly, Malice, and Perverſeneſs of others, and partly from our own
want of Patience, Temper and Diſcretion in our Management. But be they great or
fmall, few or many---- I have not left myſelf time enough to ſpeak to them now,
becauſe I have one or two more things to leave with you, before I end, which can-
not ſtay for another Time, as the others may, ſhould it pleaſe God to continue us to it.
The firſt is, a Paper of Refolutions, agreed upon at London, which, being to be
communicated by me to the Clergy of this Dioceſe, I have cauſed to be printed, and
diſtributed among you; in hopes you will read it carefully, and confider it, not as a
Paper of courſe only, but indeed of great Moment and Concern to the Well-being
of the Church. The Bufinefs of Teftimonials is what gives us great Trouble; the
Jealoufies we have about them keep us conftantly uneafy: And therefore fince we
muſt ſee and hear, very much, with other People's Eyes and Ears, and judge by
other People's Judgment, we have great Cauſe to require, that all due Care be taken,
in giving them, before they come to us; for afterwards, it is not often in our Power to
examine and difprove them, nor, with reſpect to the Canons, wholly to reject them.
But I remit you to the Paper itſelf.
The other thing that I would fay to you, before we part, is, to defire you, at your
Return home, to take your Time, and Opportunity, to inftruct your People in
their Duty and Allegiance to their KING, and thoſe who are put in Authority under
him. They may be told, that it falls not to their ſhare to determine of Princes
Titles, or to diſpute their Rights: They are much better provided for; 'tis more to
their Advantage, and their Safety, that they are only to obey, where the Supreme and
Legiſlative Power bids them obey. They may be told, that the Obedience of the Sub-
ject is not to be perfonal only, humourfome, or partial, according to their Fancies
or Affections----much to this Prince, more to that, and little to another; but con-
ftant,
4 Ee
702
A CHARGE delivered to the Clergy
1
ſtant, uniform, the like, and evermore the fame, to all Princes, commanding only
what is lawful.
It will unavoidably happen, that one Prince ſhould be lefs beloved, and inwardly
eſteemed than another, fometimes with Juſtice and Reafon enough, fometimes with
little enough, often with none at all, but purely from Fancy, idle Stories, groundleſs
Surmifes, raiſed and fed by artificial cunning People; but all muſt be alike obeyed
and honoured, for that is for the Good and Safety of the whole.
It is neither wife nor convenient, to compare the Living with the Dead; for Sor-
row and Lofs make us as fond and partial to the one, as Joy and Intereſt make us to
the other, and Truth is fomewhat overlooked by both. But as far as a private
Man can judge of Princes Hearts and Inclinations, their Difpofitions, Qualities, and
Powers, I venture to fay it myſelf, (tho' I would not require it of you to fay) that I
think we have hardly ever had a Prince upon the Throne, that came better inclined
or better qualified to make us a happy People, than he who now reigns over us. His
Intereft and politic Views muſt needs diſpoſe him to the fame; but they who know
him well, expect it rather from his great Goodnefs, excellent Nature, Senfe and
Love of Juftice, tempered with much Benignity and Mercy, Strength of Mind,
Firmness of Refolution, great Prudence, and Experience in the Arts of Governing.
But this you may acquaint your People with, becauſe 'tis known to all abroad, that,
before he came to us, there was not a Prince in Europe better efteemed by all his Neigh-
bours, nor better beloved by his Subjects than he was, which, of all the Indications
of a good Prince, is the fureft and the moſt to be depended on. They loved him
there, altho' his Power was bounded by nothing but his Will, becauſe they faw his
Will was ever guided by his Reaſon, and that Reafon was the publick Good. They
loved him there the more, the longer they had felt the Benefits of his good Govern-
ment. They loved him there fo well, as to grieve at his Acceffion to a Crown, be-
cauſe they were to loſe his Prefence by it, and feel the Influence of his Wifdom, and
Goodneſs, at a greater Diſtance. They love him ftill, however, removed as he is,
and diſtant from them, and meditate no Change, not only from the Senſe of their
Oaths and Obligations, but becauſe they know no Change can better their Condition.
Nor do they take the Occafion of his Abfence, to traduce his Minifters whom he em-
ploys; but truſt intirely to his Judgment in their Choice, affured, that he who
means them nothing but Good, and makes their Good his own, will take all Care
both to procure it, and continue it to them, by moft fit and proper Inftruments.
One is a great deal aſhamed, to think that a Prince of ſo much Merit, and of fo
unblemiſhed a Character, throughout the World, ſhould want to be commended to
the People of England; as if we were leſs fenfible, lefs difcerning, and lefs careful of
our Intereſts and Happineſs, than others are. And I am not a little confcious to my
felf, that ſuch a Part as this, is not, without a great Neceffity, a proper Tafk for a
Biſhop at his Vifitation: But great Neceffity makes things improper to become necef-
fary. And is there not an evil lying Spirit gone forth amongſt us, ranging to and fro,
in every Shape, and filling every Corner of the Country with Defamation, Scandal,
and Detraction, inventing things impoffible, furmifing things improbable, uttering
downright Falfhoods, mifrepreſenting Truths, mingling them fpitefully, detracting
from all Advantages, magnifying all the leaſt Miſcarriages or Misfortunes, and giving
every thing a wrong Turn, and all to alienate the Hearts and Affections of the People,
from the King's Perfon, Family, and Government? And as the way of old was, for
the lying Spirit to go forth, and deceive, by the Mouth of the falſe Prophets; ſo, where
that has not happened now, but where the People, notwithſtanding, are deceived,
whence can the Truth proceed with more Advantage, than from the faithful honeft
Prophets Mouth, to meet with, filence, and reprefs, thefe Evil-fpeakings, Lies, and
odious Slanders?
And
1
of the Dioceſe of Ely, at Cambridge, Aug. 7, 1716.
703.
And fince, it is prefumed, I ſpeak to none, but fuch as have already given the
KING all the Security the Laws require, by fundry, and by frequently repeated Oaths,
I know that what I ask cannot appear unreaſonable. It is but what thofe Oaths do natu-
rally require; for, as our Prayers to God for any thing we want, ſuppoſe our beſt
Endeavours going with them, to obtain it; ſo muſt our Oaths be evermore accompa-
nied by fuch a Meaſure and Degree of Activity to the fulfilling them, as is fuitable
and proper to the Office, Place, and Station, we bear in the Commonwealth; which
is, undoubtedly, to fet the People right, in their miſtaken Notions; remove their
Prejudices, and clear them of thofe ill Impreffions, which falfe and wicked Men
have, without and againſt all Reaſon, moft malicioufly made upon their Minds.
"Tis what our true Intereft, as we are an eſtabliſhed Church, calls for, as much as our
Duty; our Enemies fear nothing more than our exerting ourſelves, and our Friends
expect nothing leſs at our Hands. Our very Silence, where theſe Scandals are ſo loud,
will not be looked upon as the Effect of peaceable and quiet Difpofitions only, even
by fuch as are moſt favourable to us, but as Coldneſs and Indifference: But by fuch
as are leſs friendly to our Order, it will be looked on as Connivance and good Will,
reſtrained by Fear and Doubt of the Event: But by our Enemies, it will be conftrued,
as it naturally looks, like nothing less than Favour and Encouragement. And, in
truth, I ſeriouſly believe, that neither our Enemies abroad, nor thoſe we have at
home, have grounded their paſt Hopes, or do ground their preſent or their future ones,
of fucceeding in their Attempts, on any one thing in the World more, than upon
what they have partly ſeen themſelves, and ſtill fee, and on the Repreſentations that
are made to them by others (with great Enlargements we may well prefume) of the
Silence, heartleſs Inactivity, Coldneſs, Indifference, and the languid Zeal, of thoſe
Ecclefiafticks who are, truly, in the Intereſt of the Government on the one
fide; and on the other fide, upon the Numbers, Strength and Influence of fuch as
they believe are hearty Well-wishers, Favourers and Advancers of that Caufe, as far
as is confiftent with their Safety from the Laws. And fhould thefe People reckon
right, there would be Ground enough for much of their Confidence: For every one
has had Experience enough of late, to fhew him, how confiderable the Power of fuch
a Body of Men is; and of how great Uſe and Service it is, when rightly and well ex-
erted, and again, how formidable when ill directed. But it is in the Power of every
one of us, to convince theſe People, that they reckon wrong, and are deceived, at
leaft in one. 'Tis much to their Advantage to have the Calumny believed, and ſpread:
'Tis juſt as much to ours, to fhew it is a Calumny, and that they are miſtaken; by
letting People know (as there is need) that they muſt be, as we ourſelves are, good
Engliſhmen, good Proteftants, and faithful Subjects to the KING, according to the
Laws of God, and of the Land, and the moſt folemn Obligation of their Oaths. And
in this Hope I will take my Leave of you for this Time, befeeching God to bleſs us,
every one of us, in the Diſcharge of our good Office; that when we have gone
through this troubleſome unthankful World, we may give an Account to him, both
of ourſelves, and all committed to our Care, with Joy and not with Grief, and may
receive that Euge, at our Maſter's Hands, which is a thouſand thouſand Times above
all earthly Honours and Preferments, Well done thou good and faithful fervant, enter
thou into the joy of thy Lord.
POSTSCRIPT
704
POSTSCRIPT.
Good Brother, .
B
EFORE theſe Sheets were quite finiſhed at the Press, I received a Letter, from
the Deputies of the Epifcopal Reformed Churches in Great Poland, and Polish
Pruſſia, and of the Epifcopal Betlenian College in Tranfylvania; wherein they earneſtly
intreat me, after the Example of his Grace my Lord Archbiſhop of Canterbury, and
my Lord of London, to recommend the moft deplorable Eftate thofe Churches and
that College are now in, to the charitable Confideration of the Reverend Clergy of
my Diocefe. The Requeſt was fo reaſonable, and the Example fo good, that I com-
plied with it, and followed it immediately; and gladly took the Opportunity of con-
veying my Defires to you, on their Behalf, together with my Charge, as foon as it
could be.
The KING, of his great Goodneſs, hath been moved to grant a general Brief, for
the Relief of theſe diftreffed People, which will give you a full Account of their un-
ſpeakable Sufferings paft and prefent, and what farther Miſeries they are like to under-
go, unleſs fupported by us. This Brief will come amongſt you, about a Month
hence: But I hope and defire you will, in fome of the Interim, uſe your Endeavours
to diſpoſe your People to a more than ordinary Liberality in contributing to the Ne-
ceffities of theſe our Chriftian Brethren, of the fame Houshold of Faith with us.
And I intreat you to take care, to make as good Diſpatch in this Collection as you
well can, becauſe theſe Neceffities are ſo very ſtrong and preffing on the poor Sufferers.
Ely, Aug. 30,
1716.
I am,
Good Brother,
Your affectionate Friend,
and humble Servant in our Common Lord,
W. ELY
705
1
PAPISTS.
Not excluded from the THRONE
Upon the Account of RELIGION.
Being a Vindication of the Right Reverend the Lord Biſhop of
Bangor's [Dr. HOADLEY'S] Prefervative, &c. in that Particular.
Parishioner.
G
OOD-morrow, worthy Sir; having received a great many civil
Favours at your Hands, and profited (as I thought) very much
under your Miniftry, I come to return you my hearty Thanks,.
and to take my Leave of you.
Minifter. You are very welcome, Sir, to any thing I have done, or may do for
you in my Way: But are you then about to leave the Pariſh where you have lived
fo long, and thriven fo well? But every one underſtands his own Buſineſs beſt; I
wiſh you good Succeſs wherever you go.
Parish. No, Sir; I do not leave my Bufinefs, nor my Pariſh; but I must come
no more to your Church.
Minift. I am very forry for that, becauſe you have been hitherto a conſtant Man at
coming, and very well behaved when there: What is the matter, pray ?
Parish. Why truly, Sir, to ſpeak plain, I am now told you are no Miniſter of
Christ, your Sacraments no Sacraments, your Prayers an Abomination: You are a
Schifmatick, and all who communicate with you are involved in the Guilt of that
moft dreadful Sin.
Minift. Is that the Cafe? Hard Fortune certainly, that I, whofe Duty it is, and
whoſe hearty Defire it is, to forward the Salvation of every Soul within my Pariſh,
ſhould be the Cauſe of their Damnation, and yet neither they nor I ſhould know a
word of the Matter!
Pray tell me how I came to be a Schifmatick.
Parish. Why, by holding Communion with the late Biſhop of London, who was
a Schifmatick.
Minift. And how came he to be a Schifmatick?
Pariſh. By holding Communion with Dr. Tillotson, who was an Intruder into the
Archbishoprick, which was full before with Dr. Sancroft, who was unjuſtly deprived
by Act of Parliament for not taking the Oath of Allegiance to King William and
Queen Mary; and there is the whole of the Matter.
Minift. So that, by this Account, all the Bishops in England, who held Commu-
nion with an intruding Archbiſhop, became Schifmaticks; and all the Clergy in Eng-
land, who held Communion with thoſe Biſhops, became Schifmatick's alſo; and all
the People of England, who held Communion with thofe Clergy, were, in like man-
ner, Schiſmaticks. Is not that the Way by which this Leprofy was conveyed through-
out the Kingdom?
Parish. Yes, Sir, it is the very fame; and a fad thing it is to confider it.
Minift. Sadder it may be than you think for. There are in England alone fix and
twenty Biſhops, about twelve thouſand Clergymen, and about ſeven Millions of Peo-
ple; fix of which, at leaſt, are, by this charitable Scheme of yours, involved in the
Guilt of this great deſtroying Sin of Schifm, and in the Confequence of that, not in a
State of Salvation, without repenting and returning to the Church of the Nonjurors.
Pariſh. Sir, I am told that I am not to mind Confequences, let thofe look to it who
will venture them.
Minift. Not mind Confequences, when the Salvation of fo many Millions of our Fel-
low Chriftians is ſo highly concerned? Why is any Doctrine rejected, but for the ab-
furd
4 F f
706
Papifts not excluded from the Throne
furd or impious Confequences, that would follow, were it admitted? And does it not
indeed ſtartle you, that Six Millions of Chriftians fhould lie under the Weight of
God's Eternal Wrath, meerly becauſe the Bishops would hold Communion with
Dr. Tillotson, who was put into Dr. Sancroft's Place, and the Clergy would hold
Communion with thofe Bishops, and the People with thoſe Clergymen? What No-
tions can you have of God Almighty's Juſtice, or his Goodneſs, that can believe he
has made the Salvation and Damnation of a whole Kingdom to depend upon the
wrong or right Judgment they fhall make, who is the true Archbishop of Canterbury,
He who is deprived by an Act of Parliament, or he who is put into his Place? Can
believe in earneſt, that the Souls of my Parishioners ſhould all of them go to Hell
for coming to my Church, joining with me in Prayer, hearing me preach, and re-
ceiving the bleffed Sacrament at my Hands, meerly becauſe I happened to think it
my Duty to honour and obey my old Diocefan, own his Authority, and follow-his
Directions, altho' he held Communion with the new-made Archbishop?
you
Parish. Ay, but he was no Archbishop, there wanted a fufficient Authority to
make him fo.
Minift. Are all the People of the Kingdom then obliged to inquire into, to underſtand
and to determine, on the Peril of their Souls, preciſely what the Rights and Titles of
Princes are? For what Caufes they may fall from their Dignities? Who may take
Cognizance of their Male-adminiſtrations? And who may fill their Seats when they
are empty? Are theſe made any of the Terms of Men's Acceptance with God? Or
may they not be very innocently miſtaken in theſe doubtful Matters, which have, for
fo many hundred Years, both exerciſed and divided the ableſt Writers? Are not King-
doms as much at liberty to fecure themſelves from utter Ruin and Deſtruction, as private
People are to defend themſelves from Violence and Robbery? If a Prince will have
his private Will, to the Subverfion of the Laws, Invafion of the People's Rights and
Liberties, and tearing to pieces the Conftitution, muſt every one ſtand ſtill, and let
him take his Courfe, and finiſh their Deſtruction, without oppofing his unjuſt At-
tempts? I will make ſhort Work of it. If King James the Second was not to be op-
pofed, the Nation muſt have been undone, the Laws and Liberties, and the Religion
of the Country muft unavoidably have been made a Sacrifice to Popery. And has
the good God fo declared it in his Word, that Sixty Hundred Thouſand People muſt
be as miferable in this World as Men can be, if they withſtand not a Popish King's
Deſign to make them fo? Or be condemned to everlaſting Miſery in the World to
come, if they do withſtand him? Can you believe this is the State into which the
great Creator has himſelf put them?
Thoſe who perverted you, did very well to bid you not mind Confequences; for if
you ſhould, they durft not affirm fuch things, as in their eafy Confequences muſt
charge God with being moſt unjuft and cruel. Well, if King James be no longer
King, what muft the Nation do? For a King it muſt and will have.
Parish. Why then they ſhould have chofen his Son, and have preferved the Here-
ditary Right?
Minift. You are, I fee, not thoroughly converted to your Party yet; for, by their
Principles they could not have ſubmitted to the Son, during his Father's Life. But
what was the Reaſon, why King James could be no longer King? Why, it was be-
cauſe he was a Papiſt, and, as fuch, thought he was obliged, and did reſolve in
his Mind, and did accordingly endeavour in all his Actions, to root out the Pro-
teftant Religion; and becauſe the Laws of the Land were all againſt him, and ſe-
cured to the People their Rights and Privileges and fundry Liberties, which ſtood
much in his way, therefore he attempted by all the ways he could, to fubvert and
overthrow thofe Laws; and certainly he would have quite fubverted them, and utterly
ruined the Conſtitution, had he not been hindred and put by: And all this he did as
a Papift,
upon the Account of Religion.
707
a Papift, by Principles common to him with all Papifts elfe. And therefore the new
King, Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and the Commons of England, all in Parlia-
ment affembled, diſabled, difinherited, put by, and for ever excluded all Papifts from
being Kings or Queens of thefe Kingdoms; because being, poffeffed with the fame
Principles, they would, whenever they had opportunity, attempt the fame thing,
namely the rooting out the Proteftant Religion, by fubverting the Laws, and over-
throwing the Conſtitution.
* 1
!
Parish. Why then, by the fame Reafon, a Popish Kingdom might exclude à Pro-
teſtant Line from fucceeding to the Crown for ever, though next of Kin.
I
J
Minift. I make no queftion but they may, if they can alledge the fame Caufes,
with the fame Truth and Reaſon. I doubt not but a Turk may as innocently and
lawfully torture and kill a Chriftian, to make him turn Turk, as a Chriftian may
torture and kill a Turk to make him turn. Chriftian. If the Popiſh Kingdom can
affirm and prove, that the Principles and Practices of the Proteftants are truly fuch,
and have conftantly been fuch, as are utterly inconfiftent with the Peace and Safety
of the Kingdom, the Security of their Religion, Laws, and Properties; if this can
be as juftly and truly affirmed of Proteftant Principles and Practices, as it can of
Popiſh ones, then it is plain that a Popiſh Kingdom may as honeſtly and juftly ex-
clude a Proteftant Line from fucceeding to its Crown, as a Proteftant Kingdom may
exclude a Popiſh Line.
1
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Pariſh. But why ſhould any one loſe his Right, for being of fuch or fuch a Religion?
Miniſt. Why not for Religion, as well as any other Vice, or Defect, if that Reli-
gion threatens as much Miſchief, and does as much as any other Vice or Defect?
How can a Man help being born an Idiot, or how can he help the being a Madman?
And yet you would not think much of excluding fuch People from Government.
Now if a Man's Religion be fuch as makes him either ufelefs as an Idiot, or mifchie
vous as a Madman, why ſhould not Religion be puniſhed by Exclufion as well as Idiocy
or Lunacy? Religion is not only in itſelf the beſt thing in the World, but it is a Word
of ſo good Sound, that 'tis hardly ever mentioned without Approbation and good liking,
till you join ſomething to it that is bad. Leave out therefore the Word Religion, and
let the Queſtion be, Why ſhould a Man lofe his Kingdom, who is perfuaded that he
ought, and is refolved that he will, whenever he obtains that Kingdom, fubvert the
Laws of it, and deſtroy all things that ſhall ſtand in his way, and hinder him from
bringing all his People to think, fay, and do, whatever he himſelf thinks, fays, and
does, in what he calls God's Service, by any violent and forcible means whatever? Put
the Queſtion thus, and you will quickly fee (if this be the Religion of the Prince) why
a Prince may be excluded for his Religion as well as for any other Caufe whatever.
It is, in truth, for the Miſchiefs his Confcience puts him upon doing, for the curfed
Methods his Religion obliges or permits him to take, that he is defervedly excluded.
And after all the Noife and Outcry that is made, What pity it is, that a Man Should
Juffer fuch Lofs for being of another Religion, I believe there is not a Father in Eng
land who would not difinherit his Son, if he ſhould renounce his Chriftianity and turn
Turk, let the Son pretend Confcience never fo much for fo doing, and fay he is perfuaded
that Mahomet's Religion is the trueft; efpecially if this good Son ſhould declare himſelf
obliged, by his new Religion, to perfecute and deftroy his Father, and all the Fa
mily, if they would not do as he had done, whenever he had Power and Opportuni-
ty. So that it is but a meer Cheat of Words that People put upon themſelves and
others, when they ſay that no Man ought to fuffer either in Goods or Perfon for Re-
gion's Sake: unless that Religion be in itſelf pure and peaceable, fuch as will do no
Miſchief to Mankind, nor allow any to be done; it muſt hinder no Justice; it
muſt diſpenſe with no Oaths, nor break any Contracts, nor difturb Society, nor
countenance or abet any Cruelty. For fuch a Religion as this, no body ought
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to
708
Papifts not excluded from the Throne
1
to fuffer, becauſe it does not hurt but promote the Good of Mankind. But when what
a Man calls his Religion ſhall put him upon doing, or allow him (unchecked) to do the
fame, or as bad things, as they who are unjust, unmerciful, feditious and rebellious
do, why ſhould not fuch a religious Man be puniſhed as the others are? Government
is as certainly and as much of God, as Religion itſelf (even the pure and true Religion)
is; and Government may as honeſtly and lawfully over-rule the neceffary Articles of
Faith, as Religion may overthrow the neceffary Maxims of Government. And there-
fòre the Pretences of the one are never to be admitted, to the real Damage of the
other. To do no Injury either by Fraud or Violence, to adminifter Juſtice, to ob-
ferve Oaths, to ftand to Compacts and Agreements, are fuch eternal Rules of Reaſon
and Right, that Religion itfelf can give us no better; and if it gives us any other, to
their Prejudice, we are fure it is not of God, nor ought to be received of Men.
:
Now, if this be the Religion of a Popish Prince with refpect to a Proteftant
Kingdom, or of a Proteſtant Prince with reſpect to a Popiſh Kingdom, ſo that each
of them ſhall think himfelf at Liberty, notwithſtanding all his Engagements, Oaths
and Obligations to the contrary, to break through all their Laws and Liberties and
Privileges, to vex, opprefs, torment and kill thofe Subjects that will not by fair
Means embrace the Religion of their King; if this be the Prince's Religious Perfua-
fion, do you not ſee there is as much Reafon and Juftice for excluding a Prince for
bis Religion, as there would be for excluding a Prince for doing all theſe enormous
Wickednefles without Religion, or any Pretence to it? I never could conſent that a
Bill of Exclufion fhould pafs againft James Duke of York, merely becauſe he held
the Pope of Rome to be the Supreme Head of the Church of England; and believed
Tranfubftantiation, and Purgatory, and prayed to Saints and Angels, and was a
bigotted Papiſt, becauſe I thought that Princes could no more help their Follies and
Miftakes than other People; and becauſe I thought that I myſelf ought not to be
puniſhed for believing and practifing in Matters of Religion, juſt contrary to what
he did. But when I confidered with myfelf, and knew very well, by my Reading and
Obſervation, that, by the Principles of Popery, he muſt and did hold himſelf bound
to uſe all the Means he poffibly could, not only to perfuade, allure and encourage
me, by fait Means, by Hopes and Promiſes of Advantage, to profefs and practiſe as
he did, but by foul ones alfo, by Threatnings, and violent and forcible ways, even
to the putting me to Death by the Torments of Sword and Fire, when once he could
obtain the Power of doing fo, and could uſe that Power, without endangering
himſelf, his Perſon and Dignity; then I readily confented to the Bill of Exclufion,
and would never have had him poffeffed of the Power of undoing me, of forcing
me, and deftroying me, to profeſs Popery, if I would live in my own Country;
becauſe I was morally affured, that when once he had the Power, he must be made
to have the Will to ufe that Power, to the Destruction of the Proteftant Religion.
The Houſe of Lords, indeed, at that Time were of another Mind, and threw out
the Bill, either trufting to his Humanity and good Nature, or elſe perſuaded that
whenever he came to the Crown, his Intereft and his Oaths would affuredly carry
it against his Principles, and the Perfuafions of his Confeffor and Prieſts, who are
ufually the great Incendiaries of Princes on theſe Occafions. Many of thoſe
Lords lived to fee themſelves miſtaken in their Reaſoning, and their good Opinion
óf him; and found by many mifchievous Experiments, that neither good Nature,
nor true Intereft, nor Oaths, are to be trufted againſt Religious Principles and Per-
fuafions, when once they have taken full Poffeffion of the Mind. Good Nature is
reckoned as a Weakneſs, when it thwarts a Religious Principle; and Intereſt is never
"to ftand in Competition with Religion; and never did an Oath oblige to Sin; and
therefore never can oblige a Popiſh Prince to tolerate Herefy, when he can fafely root
it out by Force and Violence: The Lords, I fay, at that Time, would not believe
thefe
upon the Account of Religion.
709
thefe Confequences would certainly follow, from their admitting a Popiſh Succeffor;
but they were convinced by Experience, that they both would and did follow; and
therefore they afterwards agreed with the Commons, that the Throne was vacant, and
to fill it with the Prince and Princeſs of Orange; and in a little Time after, excluded
by Act of Parliament all Papifts from inheriting the Crown for ever, declaring-----
They have found it utterly inconfiftent with the Safety and Welfare of it, for this Prote-
fant Kingdom to be governed by a Popish Prince.
Which is a Demonſtration that the Parliament of Great-Britain believes, judges,
and declares that Popery, with its eaſy, natural and ufual Confequences, does incapa-
citate a Prince for wearing the Crown of a Proteftant Kingdom; for what was it,
I would fain know, that put that Prince upon endeavouring to extirpate and ſub-
vert the Proteſtant Religion, but his Zeal to propagate his Religion that was Popiſh?
What was it that put him upon endeavouring to fubvert the Laws and Liberties of
this Kingdom, but his Zeal for Popery, becauſe thofe Laws and Liberties were the
Security of the People, and hindred him from propagating Popery? For if thoſe
Laws and Liberties were not manifeftly and principally endangered by the Prince's
being a Papiſt, (as fuch) what need was there of an Act of Parliament, exprefly to
exclude the Succeffion of any Papiſt, but rather to exclude any one that ſhould en-
deavour to fubvert their Laws and Liberties, whether Papift or Proteftant? There
was indeed no need of fuch an Act, if they had not taken it for granted, that who-
ever was a Papist, would unquestionably endeavour to fubvert the Laws and Liberties
of a Proteftant Kingdom, as he had Power and Opportunity of doing it. In a
Word, Popish Princes are excluded, not becauſe their Religion is erroneous, fooliſh,
fuperftitious or idolatrous, but becauſe it is a falfe Religion, and a cruel Religion, and
will not permit them to keep the Promiſes they have made, and the Oaths they have
taken to their People, if thoſe People are Proteftants, and thofe Oaths are in favour
of the Proteftant Religion, and they are in a Condition of breaking them, i. e. if they
can break them without running any Hazard. Nor is it only (for theſe Reaſons) a
falfe Religion, but 'tis a cruel and inhuman Religion alfo; it ſpills the Lives of Men,
like Water on the Ground; makes light of putting Men to Death, with the moſt
exquiſite Pain and Torments, who are in all reſpects innocent and harmleſs, except-
ing that they are not Papifts.
So that let Proteſtants be never ſo obedient Subjects to a Popiſh King, let them do
their civil Duties never fo well, pay all their Taxes never fo juftly and exactly, nay,
fight his Battles never fo valiantly and fucceſsfully, and fill their Places in the Com-
monwealth never fo laudably and uſefully, yet if they will not turn Papiſts, the
Church will accuſe and convict them of Herefy, and the civil Magiſtrate muſt execute
them by Fire, or Sword, or Gibbet.
And after knowing all this, how abfurd muft it be to hear People complaining of
the Hardſhip and Injuſtice of putting by a Prince from the Throne, merely for his
Religion?
4 G g
A SER-
710
•
A
SERMON
Preached before the KING, in the Royal Chapel at St. James's,
on March the 2d, the First Sunday in Lent, 1717.
ECCLES. Chap. VII. Ver. 4.
The heart of the wife is in the houſe of mourning, but the heart of
fools is in the house of mirth.
B
ECAUSE the Pleafures and Felicities of Life are very much over-balanced
by its Evils and Misfortunes, the Wiſe Man had ſaid, ver. 1. that the day of
death was better than the day of one's birth; the former delivering us from
all thoſe Vanities and Miſeries to which the latter brings us, and lets us in.
And becauſe when he ſays in the ſecond Verſe, that it is better to go to the houſe of
mourning, than to the house of feafting, 'tis thought he refers in one, to that which
anfwered of old to the chriſtening of Children, with us; and, in the other, to Fu-
nerals; the one being ufually attended with the Sorrows and Mournings of fuch as
are concerned, the other with Feaſtings and Rejoicings; and the Places of each being
properly enough called, the houſes of mirth and mourning: In reference therefore to this,
the Words of the Text import thus much; it is more for a Man's Ufe and Service to
frequent fuch Affemblies as will afford him occafion to confider the Vanity and pe-
rifhing Condition of all things in this World, than fuch as only give him preſent
Mirth and Lightnefs. The heart of the wife is in the house of mourning: Man is made
wifer and better, by being exerciſed about fad and ferious things; and he who is al-
ready wife, will think on, and confider the Miſeries and Misfortunes, the Dangers
and Calamities to which the Life of Man is fubject. Whereas they who are vain and
fooliſh, think only on their prefent Eaſe and Pleafure. The heart of fools is in the
house of mirth; they are intent on nothing elfe; never confidering where, or in what
fort of World they live, nor what may poffibly befal them; and confequently make
no manner of Provifion for themſelves.
But to do right to this, and all fuch general Sentences (of which the Books of Wif
dom are made up) we muſt be ſure never to underſtand them in their ftricteft literal
Senfe, which is feldom exactly true, never ufeful: But we must take them in a fober
and reſtrained Senfe, and fuch as will beft anfwer to the End and Purpoſe, for which
they were unquestionably written; the propagating and promoting Virtue and Reli-
gion. It is not likely to be true, that all who are wife fhould be always meditating
on, or converfing with forrowful Subjects: Nor is it true, that they who refort to
the Houſe of Mirth, fhould be Fools for fo doing. We are made for Joy and Glad-
nefs; the being pleafed and living happily, is the Defign of GOD in his creating us;
a good Being could intend nothing lefs to be the Portion of the Work of his Hands;
for wherefore ſhould he make a Creature to be miſerable? To make a Creature capa-
ble of being miferable, through his own Default and Obftinacy, and foolish Choice,
will
argue neither
neither want of Wiſdom nor Goodneſs, if he is alfo capable of and defigned
for Happineſs: but to intend the Mifery of the Creature, and to create him for that
Purpoſe, is a thing ſo far from being done by GOD, that ſurely he is not capable of
doing
A Sermon preached before the KING, &c.
711
doing it; 'tis a direct Contradiction to the natural Notions we have of the divine Be-
nignity and Goodneſs. Nor is it thus with reſpect to the World to come only, but
to this alfo wherein we live: No Man that has but tolerably worthy Thoughts of God,
can think any leſs, than that he certainly defigned the proper Happineſs of all his
Creatures, and that when they fail of it, there is fome Fault ſomewhere or other, or
fome Misfortune by fome Accident not to be prevented, or forefeen; the Permiffion
of both which detracts neither from the Wiſdom nor Goodneſs of the great Creator and
Conferver of the World. Now, this being owned, that God does certainly intend the
Happineſs of every Man, and that this Happineſs confifts entirely in the Eaſe of Body
and Eaſe of Mind, which we may call Pleaſure and Satisfaction, 'tis certain that God
defigned we ſhould be pleaſed and ſatisfied; and therefore Mirth, as it is the outward
Expreffion of this inward Satisfaction, can neither be fooliſh nor unworthy of a wiſe
Man, nor yet offenfive to GOD. The Preacher fays himſelf, ch. ii. ver. 24. There is no-
thing better for a man, than that he ſhould eat and drink, and make his foul enjoy good in
his labour; this alfo I faw, that it was from the hand of God. And iii. 22. Wherefore I
perceive that there is nothing better than that a man ſhould rejoice in his own works;
for that is his portion, and who ſhall bring him to ſee what ſhall be after him? Our
Saviour did himſelf refort to the Houſe of Feafting, and that to a Marriage, which is
generally of the freeſt ſort of ſuch Affemblings. And, laftly, who can imagine Joy
and Gladneſs to be in itſelf diſpleaſing to GOD, the Defire of which is ſo innate to
Man, that without the Hope and Profpect of it, nothing would tempt him to endure
to live; but above all, fince it is made the Motive and Allurement to the doing our
Duty in this Life, as well as it is to be our everlaſting Recompence in that to come?
And tho' the Pleaſures of the other Life will furely be of another fort and kind than
thoſe of this, yet there is little Reaſon to think, that the Pleaſures of this Life, which
are natural and proper to us, are not as inoffenfive in themſelves, when well and
rightly uſed, as thofe in the other World will be, when we enjoy them. It is not
therefore Pleaſure that is in itſelf unlawful; nor is it in itſelf unlawful, to be always
pleafed and eaſy, were it poffible; if fuch our Pleaſure and Satisfaction do neither hin-
der us from performing any Duty we owe to GOD, our Neighbour, or ourſelves; nor
put us upon doing any thing forbidden by Reafon or Revelation, i. e. no Pleaſure can
become unlawful, that is confiftent with our Innocency. The Lawfulneſs and Innocency
therefore of both our Love and Uſe of Pleaſures, muſt come to be determined of and go-
verned by the Laws of GOD, commanding or forbidding fuch and fuch Particulars: And
whosoever reconciles his Pleaſures with his Compliance and Obedience to thoſe Rules,
fhall have them fafe and innocent, both with reſpect to the Kind, Degree, and Meaſure
of them: He ſhall be fure never to fix on Objects that are not proper and allowed, nor
continue to uſe them any longer than is confiftent with the Diſcharge of all his other
Duties; and when he has fecured theſe Ends, he may refort to the Houſe of Mirth, with-
out the hazarding either his Wiſdom or his Virtue. Now, let it be allowed, that GOD
who made us all, and gave us all thofe Powers and Faculties, by which we are capable
of being pleaſed and entertained, and alſo made thoſe Objects which we find ſo pro-
per to pleaſe and entertain, and with Deſign (for ought that appears againſt it) to
pleaſe and entertain thoſe Faculties and Powers, let it be granted that he does not, as
he need not, envy to us any Pleaſure, and we ſhall quickly fee, how reaſonable it is,
that all ſuch Objects as are forbidden us to purfue and fix upon, ſhould be indeed for-
bidden: We ſhall difcern how improper it would be, how mifchievous and hurtful to
the World, that they fhould be allowed as to the Kind; and as to the Degree and
Meaſure of uſing Pleaſures lawful and allowed, we ſhall alfo fee how fit it is, that the
Exceſs of them ſhould be reftrained by GoD, when it is to the hindrance of things
better and more uſeful, the Diſcharge of neceffary Duties. And in this Senfe, every
one will fee the Meaning and the Truth of what the Wife Man here fays, that the
heart
712
A Sermon preached before the KING,
heart of the fool is in the houfe of mirth. "Tis certainly for want of Reafon and Un-
derſtanding, that People place their Hearts and Affections on Objects unlawful and
forbidden: Or that they purſue things lawful and allowed, in fuch immoderate Mea-
fure, as hinders them from doing what they were otherwiſe obliged to do.
This being then the Cafe with respect to the House of Mirth, and needful to be
prefuppofed, in order to the avoiding many Abfurdities, that would arife from the
general Condemnation of it, it will be eafier, in the next Place, to underſtand the
other Part of the Text, the heart of the wife is in the house of mourning. And firſt,
the Vanities and Vexations of this Life are generally enow, to force the happieſt of
us all, not only to reſort to, but frequent the Houſe of Mourning, i. e. to give us
Sorrows and Afflictions in abundance. The certain, and the accidental Evils to
which we are liable, are almoſt numberlefs; but the Wiſdom of Men being rather
ſeen in ſhunning and delivering themſelves from them, than chufing and continuing
in them, it remains, that the Heart be to be made wife by them, and improve under
them: The Houſe of Mourning is to be the School of Wiſdom; a Place not lovely
and defirable enough for us to chooſe, as being full of Damp, and Shade, and Objects
unagreeable, but fuch as when we are driven to by Neceffity, we may and ſhould
improve to our Advantage.
Our Pains and Sickneffes may teach us many profitable Leffons; they may and
ſhould occafion us to inquire at what Door thoſe Evils entred on us; and if we find
it was by Intemperance and Exceſs of any kind, it may help to reprefs a growing
Luxury, and bring us again to Moderation and Sobriety. And if they came by Ac-
cident, by Negligence, or by the Providence of God, we know not how, yet they
may teach us to compaffionate thoſe who endure the like Miſeries, but without the
like Affiſtances, Support and Comforts, that our Condition may afford us, and cauſe
us to be charitable, and to contribute by Advice, and Help, and ſuitable Supplies,
to the making them as eafy under their Sufferings, as they can be.
The difaftrous Accidents alfo that befal our Eftates, that deprive us of our Offices, our
Places, our Inheritance, or the Fruits of our Induſtry and Labour, and ſend us to the
Houſe of Mourning, may alſo be improved to our Advantage, by caufing us to call
to mind, how we have uſed our Wealth and Power, in our Profperity, whether with
Infolence and Injustice, with Vexation and Oppreffion, or a Neglect at leaſt of doing
any good. They may help us to contract our Defires, and bring them within a rea-
ſonable compaſs; they may ſhew us the Vanity of our inordinate Sollicitude, in ma-
king Provifion for the future, which fo many little Accidents can diſappoint; and
they may
teach us too, with what a little Coft our true Neceffities may be fupplied;
and what a Point of Wiſdom it would be, to be content with what we feel we want,
and not what we but fancy, when we are much at eaſe and wanton.
The Loffes alfo of our Children, near Relations, and Friends, that do fo often
drive us to the Houſe of Mourning, may teach us alſo many Points of Wiſdom,
uſeful and needful to be learned. What pleafing Scenes do we erect in our Imagi-
nations, whilſt we are well, and compaffed with thoſe Objects of our Love! What
mighty Hopes do we conceive, and what great Expectations do we raife within us!
What diſtant Joys and Satisfactions do we propofe and promiſe to ourſelves, and give
them, in our Fancy, Years, and Strength, and Health, and Wit, and Honours and
Employments, and every thing we like and love, which they ſhall never have, but
die
away upon the fudden, unaccountably. There is nothing in which the Imagi-
nation is more befooled, and the weak Heart impofed upon, than by thofe fond
Hopes of future Satisfaction and Delight, which we treaſure up in Veffels fo periſh-
able as human Bodies. A thouſand natural and a thoufand accidental Evils, may,
and do quickly put an end to the moſt valued Lives, and all the vain Amuſements
that reſpected them. This is a thing fo fixt and fure, that few, if any, that were
ever
on March 2, the First Sunday in Lent, 1717.
713
ever capable of being afflicted in this Point, but have indeed been fo: This is the
foreft, but withal the commoneft Evil under the Sun; thefe fort of Sufferings are the
ſharpeft, yet moft unavoidable of all others: No Loffes do fo overwhelm the Mind,
and leave us deftitute of all Relief, as thefe, by bidding us defpair immediately;
whereas the reſt ſtill leave us Hope to live upon, by which we pleaſe and cheat our-
felves into Belief, that things may mend upon our hands. This is the wideft Gate
of all the Houſe of Mourning, and almoſt always open. But 'tis great pity we
ſhould paſs ſo often through it, without confidering and obferving, that much of all
thoſe Sorrows that opprefs us upon theſe Occaſions, is laid upon ourſelves, not by
our natural Tenderneſs and Senfibility, but by our artificial and acquired Weakneſs.
Reaſon indeed plays but the Hypocrite, when fhe pretends to filence, by her Argu-
ments, the Cries of Nature, her juft Compaffions, Sorrows, and Complaints upon
her Loffes; and truly, Religion has not much to do in fuch like Cafes, and is not
the moſt diſcreetly ufed, when brought to ferve fuch Purpoſes. But when this is
allowed, all muſt acknowledge, that to our natural Weakneſs, we alſo often add
an artificial one; we ftrangely increaſe our natural Affections, by ftudied Fondneffes,
unneceffary Kindneſs, and by Cuſtoms of Indulgence: Inſtead of fortifying ourſelves
by fober Confiderations, and prudent Ufages, we give all way to our Inclinations,
and acquire, by Time, a Niceneſs of Conftitution, and a Senfibility that does not
properly belong to us; and by theſe means we come to be more pain'd and miſerable
by much, than we need to be. The Houſe of Mourning is a proper Place to rectify
theſe Errors and Miſcarriages in, in order to prevent the like for the future; for there
we feel the Uneafinefs that our Neglect of what is paſt has given us, and there may
form our Refolutions to be wifer and kinder to ourſelves than we have been, by
placing our Affections, and managing them fo for the time to come, that it
may not
be in the Power of fo many Caſualties, and certain Evils, to give us fuch Diſturbance
and Inquietude, fuch Pain and inexpreffible Concern: Since 'tis fo certain, that ac-
cording to the undue Hopes we have entertain'd, will be our Diſappointment and
Defeat; and our imaginary Pleaſures be followed by moſt real and ſubſtantial Grief
and Mifery.
They who have any thing to loſe, ſhould learn thefe Leffons; for the Heart will
be fad to no Purpofe, if it will not be made wifer by its Sufferings; for it neither is,
nor can be a Point of Wiſdom, to afflict one's felf, or willingly to be afflicted, unleſs
it be in order to fome Good, that is greater than the Eaſe we part with for it. So that
the Heart is to be made wife, and exercife its Wiſdom, in the Houfe of Mourning,
and turn its Sorrows and Misfortunes to the beft account. And the Houfe of Mourn-
ing is fitted, we fee, to give us Opportunities of making theſe Improvements.
But becauſe the Wiſdom that is praiſed by Solomon, in all his Books, and to which
he invites and exhorts all Men in general, is certainly the Wiſdom of being Virtu-
ous and Religious, of fearing GOD and keeping his Commandments (there being
indeed no other Point of Wiſdom, of which all Men are capable, and which is fit
for all) it will be requifite to fee, in the next Place, how the Heart is capable of im-
proving in this holy Wiſdom, in the house of mourning. And firſt, the Occafions
that bring us to that Houſe, do generally give us a ferious Frame of Thought, our
Minds are more compofed and fixed, called home, as it were, and difengaged from
all thoſe pleafing Entertainments, that hindred them from fettling where they often
ſhould: The bufy fluttering Spirits that in our Gaiety and Eafe tranfported us from one
diverting Object to another, are now evaporated and laid, and we are much at leiſure
and diſpoſed to fix our Hearts and Thoughts upon the things that moſt concern us.
And when we are thus reduced to this confiderate Temper and Sobriety of Mind, the
next good thing that we are put to do, is to reflect upon the Conduct of our Life paſt,
to call to mind the Sins and Offences that we have committed. This indeed we are
4 Hh
conſtrained
1
714
A Sermon preached before the KING,
He never
conftrained to do, and cannot eaſily avoid the doing: It would be hard for any one
to recollect the Actions of his Life paft, without the meeting with a great many
Sins and Offences: And then is it a proper time to ſet upon repenting of them, for
then is the Mind humbled and brought low, then is the Heart foftened and made
more fufceptible of Impreffions, then is the Memory more diftinct and faithful, then
is the Confcience more awakened and diſturbed, and then more apprehenſive of its
Danger; all which are natural Difpofitions to Repentance: And therefore Afflictions
are the Inftruments, and Means God often ufes to bring us to it. Whilft Men are
healthy and at eaſe in their Concerns, they are either heedlefs or obdurate, and either
way regardless of their Hazard, and impenitent: But urged by fome fevere and
ſharp Remembrancer, fome painful Lofs, or heavy Diſappointment, they melt and
grow more tractable and more confiderate. When he flew them, then they fought him,
and turned them quickly and enquired after God, faith the Pfalmift of the Jews; the
gentle Methods he had taken, moved them not, but fome of his avenging Vifitations
ſtirred up their Remembrance, and brought them for the preſent to themſelves, and
a Senſe of their Duty: And of himſelf he faith, Before I was afflicted I went aftray,
but now have I kept thy word, cxix. 67. and ver. 71. It is good for me that I have
been in trouble, that I might learn thy ftatutes, i. e. remember them, and learn to
obſerve them better for the future: And 75. I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are
right, and that thou, of very faithfulness, haft caufed me to be troubled.
could have ſaid theſe things of Troubles and Afflictions, unleſs he had improved
under them, and become wifer and better by them; unleſs he had made them the
Opportunities of calling his Ways to Remembrance, and of repenting in earneſt of
his Sins; for doubtless Troubles and Afflictions are in themſelves good for nothing,
but very justly every one's Averfion. No chaftening, faith the Author to the Hebrews
xii. 11. for the prefent, feemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheleſs afterwards it
yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exerciſed thereby. This
is true of all Afflictions, come they from whence or whom they will, and with
whatever End and Purpoſe; they are none of them defirable, but all the contrary:
Unleſs they who are exerciſed thereby bring forth the Fruits of Righteouſneſs, it is no
matter from what hand they come; the Chaftenings of a Father are as the Wounds
of any Enemy: The End and Purpoſe of him who inflicts them does not remove
their Pain, nor make them lefs a Puniſhment. And therefore no body can make
Advantage or good ufe of Afflictions, but by being bettered and amended by them.
It is this Improvement of them that gives theſe Sentences their Truth, that it is better
to go to the houſe of mourning, than to the houſe of feasting, for that is the end of all
men, and the living will lay it to his heart; for if the Living do not take occafion
thence to confider ſeriouſly of Death, and to prepare themſelves for it, their going
to the Houſe of Mourning, is but fo much Time, and Eafe, and Labour, loſt in
fruitless Sufferings and Complaints. Sorrow, he alfo fays, is better than laughter,
becauſe by the ſadneſs of the countenance the heart is made better; but if this do not
follow, that will be hardly true; if the Heart be not indeed made better, Sorrow is
but fo much Trouble, uneafy and unufeful. And theſe things alſo fhew, that when
the Heart of the Wife is faid to be in the Houſe of Mourning, it is meant, that there
is the Heart to be made wife, and there to exerciſe its Wiſdom; and that it never will
be wife, unleſs it make theſe Uſes of its Loffes and Afflictions.
But the houſe of mourning fignifying that State of Confideration, and ferious grave
Reflexion, into which our real Troubles bring us, as well as the Troubles themſelves,
the Heart of them that are already wife, may fometimes chooſe to enter into it, to
the fecuring and continuing, as well as to the increaſing of their Wiſdom. A wife
Man cannot fail of being often ſerious, thoughtful, and confiderate: He will not only
meet with many unavoidable Occafions of being fo, but he will not always try to fhun
them,
on March 2, the First Sunday in Lent, 1717.
715
them, by turning afide into the Houfe of Mirth and Feafting, altho' he may both
enter and abide there innocent. Misfortunes are fo various and ſo frequent, that tho'
a wife Man will not live in conftant expectation of them, yet he will hardly be fur-
prized or fuddenly oppreffed by them; he will be watchful, and fo keep them in his
Mind, as things that may befal him, tho' at diſtance, and in fome meaſure be prepared
againſt them. Our natural Inclination, Bias, and Tendency to Pleaſures is ſo ſtrong,
and the Corruption of our Heart fo great, that if our Care be not proportionably
great, we are in all the Danger of the World, both of indulging to Exceſs thoſe that
are lawful and allowed, to the neglect of our other Duties, and alfo of falling into thoſe
that are unlawful and forbidden, to the exprefs Contempt of GOD's Commands.
The Confines of Innocence are parted from thoſe of Guilt, by a Line that is almoſt
imperceptible, and very quickly tranfgreffed: And therefore unleſs we will be content
to lay a voluntary Reſtraint upon ourſelves, and be wife, without a Law, we are in
too much hazard of mifcarrying. There is indeed, in fuch a World as we inhabit, in
the midſt of ſo many Temptations as we are encompaffed with, and with fuch Hearts
within as are always ready to join our Enemies without, there is all the need in the
World of being fober, thoughtful, and confiderate, careful, diligent, and well em-
ployed, to keep ourſelves in tolerable Innocence, or to reduce us to Repentance,
when we have offended.
འ་
Under the Senfe of this their hazardous Eftate, many good Chriftians did of old
forfake the World, deny themſelves a great many lawful Pleaſures and Conveniences
of Life; betook themſelves to Solitude and clofe Retirement, gave themſelves up to
affiduous Prayer, laborious Watchings, and underwent a great many painful Auſteri-
ties, in macerating Fafts, and other Mortifications. They made to themſelves houfes
of mourning, and dwelt much in them; as well to bewail their paſt Offences, as to fe-
cure their Innocence and Virtue for the future. They did, in a Word, intend hereby
to make their Hearts better, and wife to Salvation. And if they placed no Merit in
theſe things, but only took them up, as Means which they thought uſeful to the attain-
ing their great End, without impofing them on others, they ought to meet with neither
Blame nor Cenfure. Every one is prefumed to ſtudy and to underſtand his own Tem-
per, Conſtitution and Neceffities, beft; to know where they are feebleſt, and in what
Points they ſtand confirmed and ſtrong; and therefore much muſt needs be left for
every body to determine for themſelves; and therefore they who ſpend more Time, and
take more Pains to fubdue their Defires, and keep themſelves in good Order, than
others do, are not rafhly to accufe thofe others of Neglect or Breach of Duty; nor
ſhould thoſe others as rafhly condemn them, of needlefs Scruple and Superftition: For
each may do what they find neceffary for themſelves, in order to the fame good End.
But left our Fondneſs and Self-love, together with that Liftlefsnefs to enter upon
any thing we apprehend uneafy, which moft of us bear about us, fhould hinder or
delay too long our undertaking that moſt neceſſary Work of Confideration, Recolle-
ction and Repentance, our Church itſelf hath fet apart and confecrated a Time and
Seaſon proper for fuch Purpoſe, and hath prudentially prefcribed to all her Children,
Meditation, Prayer and Fafting, as the Means and Method of attaining that good
End, which all of us pretend to aſpire after. She hath erected, as it were, this tem-
porary Houſe of Mourning, wherein ſhe would oblige us annually to enter, and to do
thoſe good Works, fhe fears would not be done without it; the making the Heart
wifer and better; the calling to Mind our paft Offences; the feriouſly bewailing and
repenting of them; aſking of God, with all Humility, his Pardon and Forgiveneſs;
purpoſing ſtedfaftly to lead a new and better Life; to follow the Commands of God,
and from thenceforth to walk according to his Will: Theſe are the Reſolutions and
the Works ſhe would have us entertain ourſelves withal, this fober Seafon. Our Sa-
viour paſſed whole Nights in Prayer, and fafted forty Days and forty Nights, as Moſes
and
716
A Sermon preached before the KING,
and Elias did before him; for wife and uſeful Purpoſes, no queſtion; which yet it hath
not pleaſed God to acquaint us with, or to diſcover to us. We know he did it for
our fake, but not for our Example, becauſe it was a fupernatural and miraculous Per-
formance, and could not be followed by us; as neither were the Jews obliged to try
to imitate their Lawgiver and Prophet, altho' they faſted often, as appears in the New
Teftament, in our Saviour's Days, when the Practice of it became a Pretence and
Shew of great Sanctity, and a Veil of great Hypocrify, covering bad Defigns. But for
the fake of this Example of our Lord, the number of forty Days was certainly pitch'd
upon; and placed on purpoſe, at this Seaſon, before his Reſurrection, to take in the
Time of his Death and Sufferings, that thoſe might be the eſpecial Subjects of our
Meditation. Not that we ſhould ſpend that Time in vain and fruitleſs Sorrows, for
thoſe Wounds and Stripes by which our Souls are healed, and for that Death by which
we are redeemed from Mifery (for we had mourned with Reaſon, had they not been
undergone) but that we ſhould reflect in earneſt on the Occafion and Neceffity our
Sins had made of fuch a Sacrifice, and learn to abhor ourſelves in Duft and Aſhes.
Our Saviour fays to every one, what heretofore he ſaid to fome good tender Women,
Weep not for me, but for yourselves. One cannot be infenfible at the Recital and Re-
membrance of his perfonal Sufferings: But all thofe Sorrows are produced by the meer
Mechaniſm of Nature, and if they go no farther, are theatrical and uſeleſs, tho' very
apt to impoſe upon ourſelves; fince 'tis, we find, the eafier Tafk by much, to diffolve
into Sighs and Tears, and Lamentations for having gratified our finful Defires, than to
ſubdue them, and deny them any farther Satisfaction. The Mourning we are called
to, is a ſerious and compofed Frame of Mind, with which we are to enter into Dif-
quifition, how we have paffed the Time of our fojourning here; what we were ſent
into this World to do, and how we have performed it; to call to Mind, what in the
Heat and Hurry of our Buſineſs we have either forgotten or neglected to do, or what
we have too inconfiderately done; what we have alfo done with Choice, and a
deliberate Malice, with Boldneſs and Prefumption, againſt the fober Dictates of our
Reaſon, againſt the ſoft and gentle Admonitions, or the moſt loud and terrible Re-
bukes of Conſcience: and to confider withal, the fearful and amazing Hazards we
have hereby expofed ourſelves to, the Wrath of God, and what is confequent thereon:
and thoſe amazing Methods he hath alſo taken to cover us from that Wrath, and free
us from thoſe dreadful Confequences; the fending Chrift into the World, to live for
our Example and Inftruction, and to die a painful Death for our Redemption; to offer
up, upon the Crofs, an all-fufficient Sacrifice, to reconcile us to the Father, to make
Atonement and obtain Forgiveneſs, for all the Sins we ſhall repent us truly of, and
leave; and, when this World is at an end, to raiſe our Bodies from the Duft, as
heretofore he did his own, and reunite them to their Souls, never to be again di-
vided, but live in everlaſting Happineſs in Heaven. Theſe are the Subjects, that the
Wiſdom of the Church adviſes us to fix our Thoughts upon, at this particular Sea-
fon, in order to the making the Heart wifer and better. And that we might attend
more freely to theſe Matters, ſhe adviſes Abftinence, and a prudent Retrenchment of
all thofe Superfluities, that minifter to Luxury more than Neceffity; by which the
bufy Spirits are compoſed and quieted; the looſe and ſcattered Thoughts are recol-
lected and brought home, and fuch a ſerious fober Frame of Mind put on, that we
can think with lefs Diftraction, remember more exactly, pray with more Fervency,
repent more earneſtly, and refolve with more Deliberation on Amendment. Theſe
are the beneficial Fruits and Effects of a reaſonable well-governed Abſtinence, as
every one may find by their Experience.
Not that the Church, or any wife Man, thinks, that there is any Virtue, or
great matter, in any one's being thoughtful, fober, and abftemious, for five or
fix Weeks, and then returning to their ufual Liberties, and looſe Practice; but that
both
on March 2, the First Sunday in Lent.
717
both of them are willing to believe and hope, that Men will take that Time to be-
think themſelves in earneft, and call their Ways to Remembrance, and, in it, form
fuch Refolutions of repenting of what is paft, and of amending for the Time to
come, as will certainly hold, and take Effect for ever after. This is the Intent and
Purpoſe of all fuch fort of Preſcriptions and Injunctions: and when they have taken
place effectually, there is an end of them; their primary Obligation ceaſes with their
Neceffity. But till that Work be done, it were adviſeable for all, to take thoſe
Courſes, that their Reaſon and their Experience tell them are moſt proper and moft
likely to effect it. And therefore where the Heart wants to be made wiſer and better,
the Houſe of Mourning, which may well become the Houſe of Wiſdom, ſhould not
be neglected. And 'tis no fmall Encouragement to think, that no one ever yet repent-
ed, either of entring, or continuing in, this Houſe; nor of the manner how he paf-
fed his Time, nor of the Refolutions he made in it; nor of the Fruits of Righteouf-
nefs which they produced.
But, to give theſe Sayings all the Force I can, I will make an End, with obſerving,
That whether they admonish or rebuke, whether they invite or threaten, they are
the Reſult of the greateſt Wiſdom that ever a meer Man was endued with; and found-
ed upon the fulleſt Experience that a rich and powerful Prince (who made his Riches
and his Power fubfervient to his Pleafures) could poffibly have, and therefore well
deſerve to be conſidered. And altho' with all his Wiſdom, he did not, becauſe he
would not, preferve himſelf unſpotted from the World, but poorly fell into the Snares
of both living and dead Idols, and became thereby a very bad Example to the World;
yet has he made us fome amends, (if we will hear him) by his turning Preacher
for his laſt and beſt Judgment, was his Retractation and Repentance, of which this
Book has evermore been thought an ample Evidence and Proof. And no body can
make any better uſe of it, nor hardly any other, than to believe what he fays in it,
to trust to his Experience, and to be wife at his Expence; who, after many vain
Enquiries, and worſe Experiments, to find wherein a Man's true Happiness confifted,
found, with the Lofs of all his Time, his Innocence, and Virtue, that it confifted
not in
any thing he had tried (all which he fays was Vanity and Vexation of Spirit)
and therefore counfels all who would be truly wife, and truly happy, to begin where
he himſelf but ended, with fearing GOD, and keeping his Commandments.
4 li
A LETTER
718
A
LETTER
FROM
Mr. J. BURDETT,
Who was Executed on Friday, February 1. for the Murder of Cap-
tain FALKNER, to fome Attorneys Clerks of his Acquaintance.
Written fix Days before his Execution.
A
S wicked as I have all my Life been, and as hardened as I now am, yet can
I not endure to think that one in Hell fhould fhew more Pity to his
Brethren, and defire that Lazarus from the Dead ſhould be fent to warn
them, left they alſo came into that Place of Torment, than I, who am
alive, ſhould ſhew to you my old Companions in my Wickedness; that you by your
Repentance ſhould avoid that Place, into which (without God's infinite Mercies) I am
about to enter.
my
but
There will not be many Days, betwixt my being what I am, and being Dead;
give me therefore the fame Belief and Credit now, that you would give me ten Days
hence, fhould God permit me to appear to you, and tell you in what a State I am.
Do not, I intreat you, mock at my Advice, and tell me I am turned a Preacher, in
laft Hours: I am fo; but I tell you truly, I can preach no Comfort to myſelf,
yet would fain preach fome Security to you. My Education, as you know, was
good, and I was bred to read the Holy Scriptures carefully; but now, believe me, I
remember nothing of them but what makes againft me: All that occurs, is Terror,
Wrath, and Condemnation. That Holy Book lies open ftill before me, but there
are Scales upon my Eyes, Hardneſs upon my Heart, and a Stupidity on all my Fa-
culties and Senſes; ſo that I neither read nor think, but am amazed and loſt in
Confufion.
my
My Mother and a Sifter fit or kneel continually before me, the very Pictures of
Sorrow in Deſpair: They every Moment lift up their Eyes, their Hands and Hearts
to God, that he would touch me with a Senfe of my Condition, and give me a true
Concern for it; and when their Tears will let them fpeak, they call upon me very
faltringly --- to pray---that is all they can bring out. Nor can I anſwer them a Word
for Tears: My Heart is overwhelmed, and I can only look them and myſelf into new
Tranſports of unutterable Grief. But yet I cannot pray. The very Keeper turned
away his Head the other Day, for Sadneſs, to fee how we were together; which
wounded me fo deep, that had I had an Inftrument of Death by me, I could not
furely have outlived that Moment; to think I had occafioned them ſuch Shame and
Sorrow now, and had entailed it on them for their whole Life! O God! the Pangs
which that one Confideration gave, and ſtill gives me, are fuch as cannot be conceived
by any Heart that is not in the fame Condition with my own. This is the Recompence
fuch Sons as I make to their Parents and their near Relations! But what is this to you?
It is indeed as nothing, if you have neither Parents nor Relations in the World: But
if you have, believe me when I tell you, that the Concern I have for them, and the
Concern they ſhew for me, give me a thouſand times more Grief and Pain of Heart
than all the Apprehenfions I have of Shame and bodily Pain, that may attend me at
the Place of Execution. This is one Warning I would have you take; and could you
apprehend
ALETTER from Mr. J. BURDETT.
719
!
apprehend this Torment feelingly but half an Hour, I know not but it might preſerve
you from feeling it for ever after. But hear the reſt ----I who am, upon all Occafions
elfe, as foft and melting as a Child, yet am not moved at all, either by their Intrea-
ties or Example, to join with them in Prayer, altho' it be for the Salvation of my Soul.
No, not a Thought of mine can tend that way: My Heart is quite infenfible and dead
to all fuch Purpoſes. I wondred at it, that I could not ſo much as ſay Amen to a
Prayer that my poor Mother prayed, and which I thought was the moſt affectionate,
moſt pertinent, and proper to my Cafe, that could be framed; ſo proper, that it
feemed to fit no body's Cafe befides: and yet I could not bring myſelf to ſay Amen to
it. Judicial Hardneſs certainly! That a Man cannot pray for the greateſt Good that
can befal him, nor pray to be delivered from the greateſt Evil!
Not that I do not remember how great a Sinner I have been, or yet how great my
Puniſhment will be; (for thoſe two Confiderations are continually before me) but that
I reaſon, when I think at all, in this Manner: If a more than ordinary Portion of
God's Grace be abfolutely neceffary to the refcuing and reſtoring one of the greateſt
Sinners in the World, to a State of Repentance, and that fuch a one may by his Sins
juſtly provoke the Almighty to with-hold that Grace, what fhall he do, or how fhall
he repent? I know I am that Sinner; and by the Hardneſs of my Heart, I find I have
not that Affiftance. How can I ftir? I feel I do not ftir at all. Diftreffed Condition!
But yet I muſt acquit my great Creator of all Injuſtice in this Proceeding. 'Tis what I
knew before might come, as well as I find it now. 'Tis what I brought upon myſelf:
"Tis the Proceeding of the wifeft and the tendereft Fathers we have with their Sons,
when ſo enormouſly ungracious, wicked, and unreclaimable, by all the Methods they
could take. They caft them off; they leave them to themſelves. So am I left---and tho
I ſay it with my Lips, God help me, yet in my Heart I cannot fo much as hope he will,
my Sins are ſo provoking.
They tell me, that our Saviour's Sufferings were fo meritorious, that they made
fufficient Satisfaction for the Sins of the whole World, tho' never fo many and great.
I have no manner of Diftruſt of that; I always thought, confidering who he was, that
his leaft Sufferings were, and muſt have been of infinite Price and Merit. But what
are they to me, or any one befides, unless applied by Faith and true Repentance? The
Pardon is indeed proclaimed, but I have never had the Heart to fue it out in Form;
fo that I ftand thereby but the more obftinate Offender. The univerſal Ranſom is in-
deed laid down, but none can be a Sharer of it, but upon fuch Conditions as I have
never yet thought of fulfilling. I never could believe that God was wanting to a Man,
but that a Man was always wanting to himſelf, and to the Affiſtances that God af-
forded him, with which he might and ought to have cooperated. And furely 'tis
the Abuſe of Grace, the conftant Neglect of theſe Affiftances, and the continually
repeated Deſpite done to the good Spirit (that will not always ſtrive with Man) that
does, even in our own Opinion, juftify God's withdrawing and with-holding them
from us; and then we periſh irrecoverably. I cannot but condemn myſelf, let me do
what I will. "Tis I that have fhut my Eyes, and brought this Hardneſs upon my
Heart, fo that I neither fee, nor hear, nor underſtand, how to be healed.
They preſs me alfo with the Examples of many great notorious Sinners, both in
and out of Scriptures, who ran a longer Courfe of Wickedneſs, and much more
mischievous, they fay, than mine; who yet at length were turned to God by true
Repentance, and were faved. I doubt it not at all: His Mercy has no Bounds; his
Goodneſs may be as extenfive as his Power: Forgiveneſs always follows timely and
fincere Repentance; but he muſt give Repentance where he finds it not, or elſe For-
giveneſs will not follow, if we will take his word for it; and he who does not find
his Heart ſtirred to Repentance, reaps little Comfort from whatever can be faid of
its moſt bleſſed Fruit, Forgiveneſs. I do not think it is impoffible for God to touch
my
4
720
me,
A LETTER from Mr. J. BURDETT.
my Heart, even yet, and bring me to Repentance: I only know I have out-finned all
reaſonable Expectation of it. And till I feel fome Tokens of that bleffed Difpofition
in the Fountain of Hope ſeems to be quite dried up to me. When I confider in
what manner I have led my Life, for the feven or eight Years laft paft of it; and
recollect how almoſt every Day and every Night thereof has been filled up with
ſtrange Impieties and Profanations of one kind or other, with execrable Oaths, un-
heard of Blafphemies and Curfes, with almoſt a perpetual Drunkenneſs, with Whore-
doms and Adulteries never to be numbred up, and Villanies of every kind that can
be thought upon, and more than can be thought upon by Men who have a Spark of
Honeſty, of Virtue, or Religion left ------When I remember this has been my Life,
and theſe my conftant Habits, how can I think that God fhould change me in an
Inſtant? If peradventure I could point out but one fingle Day, of all thoſe Years
wherein I had not called on God, lightly or earneſtly, in Folly or in Rage, to DAMN
ME, and that good fingle Day would make Atonement for the reft; I verily believe
that fingle Day could not be found in all that Number. What reaſon has ſuch a
Man as this to hope for a miraculous unufual Share of Grace, only becauſe without
it he is loft? No; fuch a Life as this has found the End it righteouſly deferved: It
ended in the killing of a Man; a Stranger, inoffenfive, unprovoking. I ran him
through the Heart, thoughtleſs of Death, impenitent, and unprepared. I gave him
not a Moment's time, to recommend himſelf to God's Mercies; but fent him, with
his Sins all freſh about him, to give his laft Accounts to his great Judge. And would
not this alone deſerve to weigh down any Man to Hell, without the adding to it,
what a valuable and uſeful Life I robbed the Publick of, and how much Sorrow,
Lofs, and Mifery, I heaped upon his Family and Friends? Behold in me the Juftice
of God's Judgments, in bringing me to a violent and ſhameful Death, and leaving
me to reap the bitter Confequence of an impenitent and harden'd Heart!
I roſe betimes this Morning, to write this Letter to you, whilft the Contents of it
were ſtrong upon my Mind. It is the Fruit of all my Night's Study. I drank (ac-
cording to the ways of this accurfed Place) exceedingly hard, that I might fleep, and
think of nothing; but Sleep departed from my Eyes, I was moft ftaringly awake,
and fober to Amazement, and I could think of nothing elſe but what I have fet
down; and never thought ſo ſeriouſly and long together, I doubt, in all my Life:
And fince I came into this Houfe of Horror, I have not had ſo eaſy a Thought as I
now have, upon the reading over what I have written to you. The bottom of that
can only be, the Hope I have, that what I have written may have ſome Weight with
you; and that in the Deſcription of my fad Eftate, you may read a great deal of
your own; and by your Care and timely departing from thofe evil Ways that
brought me hither, may come to live and die happily.
I never gave you good Advice before, nor ever received any fuch from you: We
have hitherto only encouraged one another in all forts of Wickedness, and helped to
make each other as odious to God above, and as mischievous to Man here, as we could.
The Work is finiſhed upon me; but. you have Time before you, and may, if you
will, prevent your final Ruin. You can do me no Service in the World, I can do you
the greateſt, if you will let me be your Counſellor, and follow my Advice.
Advice. Let it
be fo, and let me have the advantage over you in this, that I first moved you to Re-
pentance and Amendment; and you, if moved, may have the advantage over me for
ever. My Time is fo appointed and fo near, that I can count the very Hours I have
to live; and 'tis that Confideration kills me quite, when I but think of forming a
Reſolution of repenting: For what Conviction could I have myſelf, or what Proof
could I give the World, that fuch a Refolution was fincere, when I knew beforehand
I could have but eight or ten poor Days, to bring forth Fruits meet for it, and all that
while under the Expectation of the Sword of Juftice falling on my Head? The mat-
ter
ALETTER from Mr. J. BURDETT.
721
ter is not fo with you; you are not fo condemned; your Life is ftill uncertain, and
your Death removed as far as it pleafes God. Do you but form good Refolutions of
Repentance and Amendment preſently, and your Uncertainty of Life and Death
will be a good Teſtimony to your Conſcience, that ſuch Reſolutions were fincere, be-
cauſe you made them, and reſolved to keep them, whilſt you lived, whether you
lived a great while, or a little.
This makes, I think, a great and very happy Difference betwixt the Reſolutions of
Repentance which are made by one in Health and at his Liberty, and thoſe which
another makes under the Sentence of Condemnation; altho' the former fhould hap-
pen to die within as ſmall a Time as there uſually paffes betwixt the Condemnation
and the Execution of a Criminal; and fhould not have the Satisfaction of knowing
by Experience and long Proof, that his Repentance was fincere, no more than the
condemned Penitent could have. So much there is in Refolutions that are free and
unconſtrained, that if the World were mine, I could, methinks, exchange it readily,
to be in that Condition.
And this is the Reaſon why I believe you have not yet out-ftood all Opportunities of
being faved, as I have done; becauſe you are yet at liberty, and free to chufe, whe-
ther you will continue in your wicked Ways, or will betake yourſelves to better; and
becauſe you have, for ought you know, the Opportunities of proving by Experience
and the Courſe of your future Life, the Truth and the Sincerity of your Reſolutions
to live in the Fear of God, and in Obedience to the Precepts of the Goſpel; which I,
and fuch as I, can never have; who have the Period of my Life determined to an
Hour, and all the Interim have that Hour continually before my Eyes.
Here I am interrupted by a good Man, who comes to bring me ſpiritual Comfort,
if I can receive it: You ſhall be ſure to hear from me again, and know the Iffue of our
Conference, if it be good for you, and I have leiſure to give it. If not, make much
of this, and read it feriouſly, and twice; and ask yourſelves, not one another, what
you think of it? And mind the Anſwer that your Heart gives, and follow the Refolu-
tions that you then incline to make, and think reaſonable. I am, but in a truer
Senfe than I have ever been before,
Your Affectionate Friend,
4 K k
J. B.
A LETTER
722
А
LETTER
ΤΟ ΑΝ
Inhabitant of the Parish of St. Andrew's Holbourn, about new
CEREMONIES in the CHURCH.
SIR,
U
PON your being with me the other Night, and telling me that the Cu-
rate of your Pariſh had told the People, in ſome of his Difcourfes from the
Pulpit, that they muſt needs STAND UP at the reading of the Second Leſſon
when taken out of the Gospels, and alfo at the Singing of the Pfalms, with
other Odneſſes, and defiring me to give you my Opinion of theſe Matters; I ſet myſelf,
when you were gone, to confider them very ſeriouſly: And I have done it in ſuch
a Manner and Method, as will not only fhew you my Opinion, and the Grounds of
it, but may be uſeful to other Purpoſes.
I confeſs that neither the Man, nor the Geſture itſelf, confidered fingly, is worth
the taking any Pains about. But the Spirit of Impofing is both troubleſome and miſ-
chievous, and ought to be carefully watched againſt by all Men. Even Governors
themſelves muſt always have Regard, in all their Orders and Injunctions, to what is
uſeful, edifying, and in fome Degree neceſſary: And they who are the wiſeſt and the
beſt will ever take the greateſt Care they can, to make their Laws and Rules fuch as
ſhall be the moſt eaſily complied withal by plain and honeſt People, as they will cer-
tainly find the moſt Content in fuch Obedience. But that private Men, without Au-
thority, fhould impofe their particular Fancies upon their Equals, is fo far from be-
ing to be justified, that it ought not to be endured.
1. Of all the Epifcopal Churches in the World, antient and modern, of whoſe
Liturgies we have any certain Knowledge, the Church of England, by Law eſtabliſhed,
retains and uſes the fewest Rites and Ceremonies in her Forms of publick Worſhip.
2. She might have uſed and retained more, had ſhe thought fit: For fhe owns in her
34th Article, that every Particular, or National Church, may ordain, change, and
aboliſh Ceremonies or Rites, ordained only by Man's Authority, fo that all things be done
to edifying.
3.
But of this edifying the does not allow or make any Biſhop, Parſon or Curate, to
be the Judge, but has tied them down to certain Rules, which are (without ſome plain
and urgent
Reaſon to the contrary) to be obſerved by all in general who officiate.
Theſe Rules are all contained in the Rubrics of the Common-Prayer, which
are alſo now confirmed by the Laws of the Land.
4.
5. Whosoever obferves the Rules prefcribed in the Rubric, in reading the publick
Offices, does as much as he is required to do, either by the Church, or by the Law
Whofoever does lefs is an Offender; whofoever does more is an Innovator, and does it
without Authority, and is fitter to be punished than followed, and breaks the Unity of
the Church in point of Ceremony, preferring his own Opinion to the Judgment of the
Church.
6. If the Laity conform to the Rites and Ceremonies preſcribed in the Rubrics, they
alfo do as much as is required of them.
7. All
A LETTER to an Inhabitant, &c.
723
7. All the Ceremonies required of the Laity, are kneeling at their Prayers, and
Standing up at the Creed, or Confeffion of their Faith: They who do this, do all that
the Church requires.
8. No Clergyman has Authority to tell the People they must do more than the
Church requires, which ſpeaks by her Rubrics.
9. Altho' the Church allows, in Fact and Practice, more Ceremonies than are re-
quired by the Rubric; yet is the Rubric ſtill the Rule and Law, both to the Governors
and the Governed. The first can neither command nor appoint more; the latter are
obliged to no more than the Rubric injoins.
10. Whosoever therefore tells the People, that it is their Duty to stand up or to kneel,
where the Church requires it not, tells them in effect, that he is wiser than the
Church, and knows what is better for them, than their Governors did, or do, who
have, it ſeems, omitted and neglected to tell the People their Duty.
II. The Ceremonies allowed in Practice by the Church, tho' not injoined by the
Rubric, were fuch as were in ufe in the Church, before and when the Rubrics were
made; and being found reaſonable, and eafy, and becoming, were not inforced by
any new Law, but left in poffeffion of what Force they had obtained by Custom. And
even there, he who complies not with theſe Ceremonies, offends againſt no Law, but
only againſt Cuſtom, which yet a prudent Man will not lightly do, when once it has
obtained in general.
12. This however ought not to encourage (much leſs will it authorize) any private
Perfon, to introduce any new Ceremony into the publick Worſhip, upon pretence that
the new is as much injoined as the old was, and that there is as good Reaſon for the
one, as for the other. For though no Cuſtom that is younger than a Law, ought to
to prevail against that Law, yet where there is no Law, Cuſtom fupported by a ge-
neral Practice of wife and good Men, and not oppoſed by their Superiors, becomes a
fort of Rule, and will not eaſily be tranfgreffed by fuch as love Decency and Order.
And therefore a new Ceremony does not ftand upon the fame Foot with an old one,
becauſe it has not been generally well received, nor been confirmed by Cuſtom and
Ufage, though perhaps there may be as good Reaſon for the new as for the old.
13. It was the Cuſtom at the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's Reign, for the People
to ſtand up at the Gloria Patri, and when the Te Deum, Jubilate, and the other
Hymns were repeated; and the Cuſtom to stand up when the Gospels after the Epiſtles
were read on Sundays and Holidays, and the Cuſtom for the People to fay, Glory be
to thee, O Lord. The Church was in Poffeffion, as it were, of theſe things, and made
no Rule concerning them, but left them to be continued or diſuſed, as it ſhould hap-
pen, and fo they continue to this Day.
14. But it was not then the Cuſtom, nor has been fince, for the People to stand up
whilſt the Pfalms were finging in Parish Churches; nor whilft the Second Leffon
was reading, tho' it were out of one of the Gofpels, either on Sundays, Holidays
or Week-days; and yet if we ſhould go to examine the Reaſon of Things, 'tis very like-
ly the finging Pfalms would be found to be of greater Authority than the Te Deum it-
felf, altho' it be the fineft Hymn that was ever made by Man; and 'tis more than
likely that the Second Leffon is as much Gospel, when read in the first Service, as
when 'tis read in the Second Service after the Epistle. And I hope it will never come
to be difputed, whether the Epistle is not as much the Word of God, and the Dictate
of the Holy Ghost, as is the Goſpel which follows it. And certainly the Lord's Prayer,
when read in the Second Leſſon (as it is fix times in the Year) is as much the Lord's
Prayer, as when it is repeated both by the Miniſter and People in the Daily Service,
when both are obliged by the Rubric to do it on their Knees, which yet they are not
obliged to do, when they hear it read as part of the Second Lefon: Which by the
way, may help to correct that Difturbance, which is occafioned by ignorant People's
getting
724
ALETTER to an Inhabitant of the
getting up from their Seats and ſtanding on their Feet, when that Heavenly Prayer
comes to be read in a Second Leffon, which is neither injoined by Authority, nor re-
ceived by general Cuſtom, and must therefore go for a private Fancy, which ought
to find no Place in publick Affemblies.
15. A Parity of Reaſon is not therefore fufficient to introduce new Ceremonies up-
on, without Authority, Rule, or Cuftom. People are much at their Liberty, in their
Family or Clofet Devotions, but muſt not innovate in Congregations. The Clergy
ought not to lead the People into new Ways, nor ſhould the People follow them, up-
on pretence of better Edification.
16. The firſt General Council that was ever held in the Chriſtian World, and the
moſt eſteemed, was that of Nice; and that decreed in the xxth Canon, that all Chri-
ſtians, every where, ſhould ſay their Prayers ftanding on their Feet (and not kneeling)
every Sunday in the Year, and every working Day beſides, betwixt Eafter-Day and
Whitjunday.
17. The Council affigns no Reaſon for this, (as they need not) but they who lived
then and a little after, tell us it was, that the Chriftians were thereby to fhew, that
they were rifen with Chrift. Now certainly this Reafon, confidered in itſelf, will
hold altogether as good, for ſtanding up at Prayers, every Day in the Year, as on any
Week-day betwixt Eafter and Whitfuntide. But certainly, that Curate would have
been held for an audacious perverſe Creature, who ſhould have exhorted his People,
to ſtand up at their Prayers all the Days in the Lent Seaſon, becauſe there was as much
reaſon to do ſo before Eafter-Day, as after it; and becauſe the Council had not for-
bid the doing ſo, and becauſe that ſtanding up is a Poſture of Reſpect and of Atten-
tion. Private Men have nothing to do, to affign Reafons for introducing Ceremo-
nies, of which there is no need, and for doing which they have no Authority.
18. But what if, after all, theſe Innovations of ſtanding up at the reading the Se-
cond Leſſons and at the finging Pfalms, be not fincerely intended for greater Decency's
fake, and fhewing more Reverence, and exciting greater Devotion, but meerly to
ftart up a new Diftinction, and make a farther Difference betwixt thoſe who come
to the publick Worſhip in the fame Place, and at the fame time, with one another,
but who are of different Parties, with refpect to the King and State Affairs? You
know in what Parish you are, and what fort of People they are who chiefly promote
theſe Innovations, and are moſt forward to diſtinguiſh themſelves by little ceremo-
nious Obfervances; and you alſo know what King it is they incline to.
19. The Low-Church People, as they are called, are content, when they come
to Church, to comply with the Rules injoined by their lawful Governors, and to
ftand, or kneel, or fit, as they are bid to do by Rule and Cuſtom; but 'tis very
likely that they will fcruple to join in any new Ceremony, without Command of
Authority, as well becauſe they care not to be impofed upon by any private Fancy,
as becauſe theſe Innovators are by no means acceptable to them.
They will therefore do as they uſed to do, and fo they will be marked and known
for Low-Church People, which will have fuch Confequences at Church, as other
Marks of Diſtinction have in other Places; the Miſchief of which has been enough,
one would think, already, and needs no Augmentation.
My Advice is therefore, that you do not leave the Pariſh-Church, becauſe of theſe
new-fangled Whimsies; but reſort thither, as timely and as conftantly as you have hi-
therto done; and behave yourſelf as well, as ſeriouſly and devoutly as you uſed to do;
and have no manner of regard to what you fee others do, as to the ceremonial Part, if
it be not appointed by the Rubric, or approved by Cuſtom, which you have hitherto
been guided by in the publick Worſhip. And that you may the better ſee how little
Countenance or Encouragement is to be given, even by private People, to any Innova-
tions
Parish of St. Andrew's Holbourn.
725
tions in the Church: I will fhew you in a few Words, the Rife and Origin of one or
two of the moſt corrupt Practices of the Church of Rome.
Some hundreds of Years had pafs'd, before any Picture, Image or Statue of a Saint
was placed in any Chriftian Church, throughout the World; tho' it is not unlikely
that there were both in other Places for Ornament and Honour. It came at length
into a Painter's Head, to repreſent, in as lively a manner as he could, the Sufferings
of a martyr'd Saint, to which the Church was dedicated, i. e. by whofe Name it was
called; and to hang this Piece in fome confpicuous Place within it. Wife Men were
offended with the Novelty; not at the Picture, but at the ſetting it up in the Church;
but the common People were mightily pleaſed with it, and ſaid that Pictures were the
only Books which they could read; and found themſelves much edified by ſeeing how
the Saints had glorified God, and confirmed the Faith by their Conftancy in fuffering
and enduring Torments for the fake of Chrift: And could fuch good Thoughts, and
noble Refolutions, be better raiſed in them than at Church, where they met ſo often
to worship God? And therefore fuch good Pictures were moſt properly placed in
Churches. There lived hard by a very devout Statuary, who excelled in carving
Images, both of Stone and Wood, who feeing the People fo mightily taken with
the Picture, aſked them one Day, whether an Image of their Patron-Saint, carved
out of fine Marble, and placed in a convenient Niche within the Church, would not
excite the fame good Thoughts, and good Remembrances in their Minds, that the
Picture did, the Colours of which would, in time, fade much, and wear away; and
hearing nothing to the contrary, he fet it up, and was commended for his Zeal and
Benefaction by them: And great gazing there was at it; none of them making any
exception to an Image, which they could not make to a Picture; both feemed alike
innocent, alike uſeful, and alike proper to excite good Thoughts, and devout Affe-
ctions in the Minds of fuch as looked on them.
It was not long after, that a Man of Quality and great Wealth ordered the Statu-
ary to make the fineſt Image he could of Christ our Lord, and fix it on a Cross, with
all the Marks of Sorrow, and moſt painful Agonies that could be poffibly expreffed in
ſuch a Work, and place it in the Eaſtern Light, towards which he faw the People
generally turn in their Acts of Worſhip. This was accordingly done, and the People
were very fond of this new Help to their Devotion. Here was the King of Saints him-
ſelf, they ſaid; here they were hourly put in mind of their Sins, which coft their Sa-
viour all the bitter Pains he underwent upon the Crofs, for their Redemption, which
were fo lively expreffed in this good Image, that they could never view it well, with-
out Compunction of Heart within, and knocking of their Breafts without, and other
Tokens of Repentance. The Gentleman's Wife, and éldeſt Son, befought him,
out of pure Devotion, that our Lord might not be worſe attended in the Church, than
he was upon Mount Calvary; and hereupon there was another Image made to repre-
ſent his moſt afflicted Mother, and placed on his right Side; and another on his left,
namely, his moſt beloved Difciple John, for fo it was found to be in the Goſpel; and
thus the Church was furniſhed with Books for the Laity to read and meditate upon;
and it was not long before they bowed their Heads, incenfed them, and kneeled and
faid their Prayers before them. Under the Statue of the Patron-Saint, was his Tomb
of Black Marble, in which the precious Reliques of this holy Martyr were depofited
i.e. the Bones that were not burnt to Aſhes, together with fome Aſhes of his Body
that had been confumed by Fire. At this Tomb the People chofe to fay their Pray-
ers, rather than in any other Part of the Church, becauſe they had heard that the
Saint himſelf had kneeled in the Place where his Tomb ftood, when he offered up
his Life to God. This Tomb the People prayed at conftantly for whatever they
wanted at God's Hands. One prayed for a fick Child, another for a dying Husband,
and another for the Cure of a Diſeaſe under which ſhe had long laboured: And it fo
pleafed
4 LI
726
A LETTER to an Inhabitant of the
pleaſed God that their Prayers were heard and granted in their feveral Kinds; and
then it came into their Heads, that their Prayers were the rather heard for their
being put up at the Tomb of this good Saint; and that more People had been heard
in what they asked at this Tomb, than in any other Place or Part of the Church:
And when they reaſoned among themſelves how, or why this ſhould be; they were
told, that God might intend thereby to glorify his Saints, and to fhew how precious
their Death was in his Sight: And there were fome, who doubted not to affirm,
that the Saint himſelf did certainly intercede with God, in their behalf: For who
(ſaid they) can think that the Saints in Heaven ſhould fit and do nothing? And can
they do any thing better and more befitting them, than pray for thoſe who live on
Earth, and want all manner of Comfort and Affiftance? And can any Prayers be
more acceptable to God, than fuch as the Church Triumphant puts up for their Fel-
low-members of the Church Militant? And can any Prayers be fooner heard, than
what his favourite Saints, who died for the Truth, put up? And when it was made
ſo clear, by theſe Deductions, that the Saints did undoubtedly intercede with God,
for their Fellow-Chriſtians on the Earth, it was very eafy for the People then to ask
of God, that he would grant them their Requeſts, at and for the Interceffion, more
eſpecially of theſe Saints, his faithful Servants, whofe Merits might prevail for what
their own Unworthineſs had made them neither dare to ask, nor fit to receive. And
when theſe People had, at any time, received at God's Hands what they had asked
through the Interceffion of the Saints, it was very natural, for ignorant unthinking
Heads, to conclude, that God had truly granted what they had asked, for the fake
of that Saint's Interceffion; which yet is no Confequence at all, fince God might
grant it for his own Mercy's fake, and through the Interceffion of his ever-bleſſed
Son; but this the People did not mind, the Saints Interceffion was the Means they
uſed laft; and having found, as they thought, the Effects of it, they looked no far-
ther. But things did not long ftand here; the People were not content to pray to
God, to grant them what they wanted, for the Merits fake, and at the Interceffion
of the Saints, but they prayed to thoſe very Saints themſelves, that they would inter-
cede with God to grant them what they wanted. This was a wide Step indeed, and
a great Change. The Paffage from the one Practice to the other, was not eafy, na-
tural, or confequential; but Superftition got over it quickly, and fancied there was
but a little difference, betwixt People's praying to God to hear the Saints praying for
them, and the praying to the Saints that they would pray to God for them; where-
as there is the wideft difference in the World betwixt thoſe two Prayers; the one is
directed to God, the fole proper Object, omnipreſent and omnipotent; the other to
Creatures only preſent in one Place, and of themſelves able to do nothing. But
theſe were Scruples that never troubled thoſe good People, they had a Faith that ſwal-
lowed every thing, and ſeemed not to value Conſequences at all. To the Tomb they
came, and prayed the Saint to pray to God for whatever good things they wanted ;
and when this Practice came to be conteſted a little, it was juftified, as done out of
pure Humility, becauſe they were unworthy to approach to God by Prayer them-
ſelves in Perſon, and therefore did it by the Mediation of Saints their Interceffors.
Well, in ſome reaſonable time, inſtead of praying the Saint to pray to God to give
them this or that, they came to praying the Saint directly and downright to beſtow
this or that Bleffing on them himself: They thought it was too much round about,
to ſay, O Apollonia, pray to God to cure me of the Tooth-ach; and they ſaid directly,
● Apollonia, cure me, I beseech thee, of the Tooth-ach. But being hard put to it
to defend this Practice, they faid they meant no more but to intreat her to pray
to God for them; and all the good Writers of that corrupt Church, who have any
Senſe or Virtue left, defire to have all the Prayers that are put up to the Saints, to be
underſtood
Parish of St. Andrew's Holbourn.
727
you
underſtood to mean no more than a bare Ora pro nobis, or,----Pray for us; which is,
indeed, impoffible to be done, by People that can read and underſtand. But my
Deſign was not to dispute about any thing, but to fhew how one Practice draws on
another, not near fo innocent as the firft, till at length they come to things ridiculous,
abfurd, and never to be juftified: And therefore that a Stand is to be made at firft
againſt all manner of Innovations in the Publick Worſhip, that are not authorized by
the Governors of the Church, who have the Power of ordering our Behaviour there,
let them be never fo reasonable, fo decent, or convenient. The Curate of the Pariſh
is no more to judge what is reaſonable, decent, or convenient, in the Publick Wor-
ſhip, than the Clerk, or any Lay-man of the Pariſh is; and there is not a Lay-man
in the Pariſh who has not as much Right to oppoſe, as the Curate has to impoſe any
new Rite, Ceremony, or Pofture in the Publick Worship: And whenever he fhews
his Commiffion fo to do, I'll undertake to fhew him yours, to withſtand him.
But you are afraid of being fingular. Where is the Singularity of doing as you always
uſed to do, and as the reft of the Congregation uſed to do, before theſe new Lights
came amongſt you? Why is your Pariſh fingular in doing what the reft of the Pa-
riſhes both in the City and Suburbs do not? But what is the Harm of ſtanding up?
None at all. And what is the Harm of fitting as you uſed to do? Why did the Cu-
rate make the People change that Pofture? There is indeed no Harm in either Po-
ſture, nor any great Good; but there is Harm in yielding to the impofing Spirit of
any private Man, in the publick Worſhip. And whofoever reads with
any Obferva-
tion, will find it was, at firft, the fingle Opinion or fingle Practice of fome private
Man, (and perhaps a very good Man too) that laid the Foundation of all the ſuperſti-
tious Practices that prevail amongſt the corrupt Part of Chriftians, now in the World.
They were at firſt innocent enough, and for a while they continued tolerable; but by
degrees, and adding one thing to another, they came at laſt to the paſs we now fee
them in; and who can tell at what time the Impofitions of private Fancies are to be
withſtood, if not at firft? And can any one tell where they will ſtop, if private Men
may not withſtand them? Who can tell us, why this Curate fhould not, in time,
exhort the Gentlemen of Holbourn, to do as the Gentlemen of Poland do, i. e. draw
out their Swords when they repeat the Creed, to fhew how ready they are to defend
the Faith of Chrift againſt all Oppofers? This is a very fignificant Ceremony, and
makes a fine Show; and I will undertake that he has as much Reaſon, and as much
Authority, to exhort them to the one, as he has to tell them they muſt ſtand
the Pfalms are finging; fince it is neither the Cuſtom of other Churches fo to do,
nor yet injoined by competent Authority.
up when
Since you know me well, I need not tell you, that I have very little Concern ei-
ther for this Pofture, or against the other. I uſe them both as it happens, either for
my Eaſe or Convenience; and I lay no Strefs on either. But I am very zealous againſt
the Pride of Singularity, private Fancies, and Innovations in Matters relating to the
Publick Worſhip of God; and I would have you fo too; and the more fo, becauſe
there is a bold, daring, innovating Spirit, got of late among the young, unlearned,
injudicious part of the Clergy, which if not timely repreffed, and checked, will give
diſturbance both to the Church and State, and therefore I would have them receive
no manner of Countenance or Encouragement, from any one's Submiffion, Imitation,
or Example.
Let us obey God, without Reſerve; the King, according to Law; and our Ecclefi-
aftical Governors, as far as we can with a good Confcience do. But when a private
Man fhall bid us do, what neither God, nor the King, nor the Bishop, requires of us;
it will be very civil, if we only tell him he is impertinent.
The
728
The Justice of Paying DEBTS:
A
SERMON
Preached in the
CITY.
To the Worſhipful and Worthy CITIZENS of LONDON.
I'
T is for your fakes efpecially, that to the foregoing Sermon I add this other,
which I preached, fome Years ago, when I was a Miniſter amongst you. The Fail-
ing of fome eminent Citizens, about that Time, occafion'd me to take this Matter
in band, and to confider it as thoroughly as I could, within the Compass of a Sermon.
And the Management of it was then judged fo feaſonable and proper, as well as juſt and
true, that I was much urged to make it publick: But I did not, at that Time, think
it convenient.
I do it now, of my own accord, upon no other Motive than the Hopes of doing ſome
Service by it, to a People who are, generally speaking, an Example to the Trading
Part of the whole Kingdom, and therefore ought to be a good one. The Relation I
had, was but to one or two Parishes of the City; but my Good-Will, and my Good
Wishes extend to every one; and what I have faid, in this Difcourfe, is equally appli-
cable to all, and may, if it pleafe God, be equally useful. And truly, almost every Year
is made fo remarkable by Mifcarriages in Points of Honefty and Juftice, of Prudence
and Frugality, that it is impoffible for a Sermon of this kind to be long unfeaſonable, if
And, for the prefent Year, I doubt you have an Inftance now before your Eyes,
that will justify this, and any fuch Difcourfe; and make it appear as feafonable, as it
could be in any Year within your Memory: An Inftance, methinks, as much without
Example, as I hope it will be without Followers.
ever.
I am very confident, that you will all agree, that I have affigned the true Caufe of
moſt of theſe Miſcarriages, and conſequently of the Injuftices and Miſchiefs that accom-
pany and follow them: Namely, The living above and beyond your true Abilities.
And therefore you will not want to be told, that it is in all your Powers, in a great
meaſure, to prevent them, by becoming (which is the true and proper Character of
Citizens) a Sober, Frugal, Diligent, and Careful People; and, that this Advice may
the better become me, I must also add, that without your being fo, you will find it hard
to be either Juſt, or Honeſt, or Religious.
in
I may want an Apology, for ought I know, with fome People, for thinking that fuch
a Difcourfe as this may do any Good amongst you. But I am one who have a better
Opinion both of Myfelf and You, than not to make the Experiment. I have often ver-
tured my Credit upon the like Hopes of doing fome Service to fuch as I applied to,
this Way; and I am fure it has not been without fome Success. And I do not at all
diftruft, that this (by the Grace of GOD) will have a good Effect upon many, who
re truly concerned in it, if they will read it feriously, and carefully confider it. And,
in this Hope I leave it with you, and remain,
Your affectionate Friend, and faithful Servant,
W. EL Y.
The Justice of Paying DEBTS.
729
2 KINGS, Chap. IV. Ver. 7.
Then ſhe came and told the man of God: and he ſaid, Go fell the oil,
and pay thy debts, and live thou and thy children upon the reſt.
W
HEN Elijah the Prophet was removed from hence to Heaven, his Ser-
vant Elisha, who had always miniſtred to him (as Joſhua did to Mofes)
fucceeded him in that great Office, and became (as his Maſter had been)
the Head of the Prophets. The Schools of the Prophets were, in thoſe
Days, the Seminaries of Learning and Religion, where fuch as were diſpoſed, were
bred up
in common, in the Knowledge and Service of the true God, as it now ſtood
in Oppofition to the Worſhip of the Calves fet up by Jeroboam, under the Care and In-
ſtruction of wife and religious Maſters, who ſent them out as they faw Occafion,
to convert fuch as had revolted, or to confirm fuch as had perſiſted in the way of
Truth, and to deliver fuch Revelations of God's Will, as he was at any time pleaſed
to make to them. Here they lived with great Frugality and Simplicity, and were under
no Obligation to live fingle, but governed themſelves in that Matter as they faw fit;
for tho' the Sons of the Prophets only fignifies the Prophets (as it is in other Languages)
yet it came to fignify fo, by the Prophets ufually breeding up their Sons, in the fame
Manner they had themſelves been bred, and preparing them by a virtuous and religious
Education, to receive fuch Impreffions as God might at any time be pleaſed to make
upon them, and to qualify them for the Prophetick Office, either in the ordinary or ex-
traordinary Senfe of thofe Words. This is the original Reaſon of the Sons of the Pro-
phets coming to fignify barely Prophets. And therefore they were all at liberty to
marry, or live fingle, as they found it beſt for them to do. Elijah and Elifba were
both unmarried; but others, it is plain, were married and had Children. Of this
School of the Prophets, Elifba was now the Head and Governor. And to him there
came a certain Woman, with a fad Story, that her Huſband, who was one of the Sons
of the Prophets, and one that did fear the Lord, (i. e. who was a Worſhipper of the
true God, and not of Baal, and in the true old way appointed by God, and not of
the Calves fet up in Schiſm, and for Convenience fake) was lately dead, and had left
her, with her Children, very deftitute, and (which was ſtill worſe) charged with a
Debt which ſhe knew not how to pay: That her Creditor bore exceeding hard upon
her, and finding her worth little or nothing, in Subftance, was coming to demand
her two Sons, (as he might by Law, or Cuſtom, do) to be his Bondſmen, or Servants,
i. e. at leaſt, to keep them in his Service till they had wrought out the Father's Debt,
and fatisfied his Claim. So that ſhe had not only loft her Husband, which made her
miferable enough, but ſhould now be bereaved of her Children, which were not only
the Comfort, but perhaps the Support and Suftenance of her Life, and lofe them,
moreover, to a very hard Bondage; for the Creditor, who would take that rigid Ad-
vantage that the Law gave him, was not like to deal very mercifully with them;
which, to a Widow-Mother, muft needs be a Confideration of great Pain and
Sorrow. To this afflicted Woman, the Prophet (moved of God) replied, What fhall
I do for thee? tell me, what hast thou in the house? What is there you can raiſe towards
the Diſcharge of your Hufband's Debt?
There is no greater Act of Kindneſs can be done, than to affiſt the Widow and the
Fatherlefs, with Counſel and Advice in their Diftrefs; to put them in the way of
making up their broken Fortunes, and extricating themſelves out of their Difficulties,
which the Lofs of their Relations bring upon them, and out of which their Unfkil-
fulneſs can find no Way, or their Concern and Sorrows will not let them fee it. In
4 M m
fuch
730
The Justice of Paying DEBTS.
fuch Diſtreſs, a little good Advice and Help is worth a valuable Sum; and he is a
good Man that gives it; the Bleſſing of the Widow and the Fatherless will come upon
him, and that will carry ftill a greater with it, even that of God in his holy Habita-
tion. To this Queſtion of the Prophet, What baft thou in the house? the Woman
anfwered preſently, that she had nothing in the World, but a Pot of Oil: upon which
he bids her to borrow as many empty Veffels as fhe could in all the Neighbourhood,
and when ſhe had done that, to ſhut her Door upon herſelf and Sons, that the might
not be diſturbed by Company, (whofe Curiofity might probably bring them to fee
what ſhe could do with all thofe empty Veffels fhe had borrowed) and then ſhould
fill them all from her own Pot, which ſhould not fail to run as long as there was any
thing left to hold it. The Woman was a Woman of Religion, and of a ſtrong Faith;
and knowing the Power of God to be without Bounds and Meaſure, and that the
Spirit of Elijah reſted on Elisha, obeyed him without Scruple, and went and did in
every thing as he had bid, and found that every thing was anfwerable to what ſhe had
expected: And when ſhe found her Treaſure at an end, ſhe came again to the Prophet,
and told him all that had befallen her, expecting what Directions he would farther be
pleaſed to give her: Upon which he fays, in the Words of the Text, Go, fell the Oil,
and (with the Money) pay thy Debt, and live thou and thy Children upon the reſt.
Oil was a thing of great ufe both in the Service of God and Man, and 'tis faid,
v. 38. that there was a dearth in the land, great Scarcity of Provifions; and that
perhaps would enhance the Price of this poor Woman's new Poffeffion; and fince
The was to pay her Debt, with part of what ſhe was to fell the Oil for, and to live,
herſelf and her two Sons, upon the Refidue, 'tis very likely fhe made confidera-
ble Advantage by the Sale; but whether fhe did, or no, is no great matter to us: It
would indeed the better fhew her, how plenteous in Goodneſs and Mercy God had
been to her; but the Uſes that we, at this diſtance, may beſt make of theſe Words,
will be to confider, that when God had wrought an aſtoniſhing Miracle, (equal and
alike to that which our Saviour wrought in multiplying a few Loaves to the ſatisfying
thouſands of People) the Prophet, by God's Direction certainly, bids her difpofe of
the Money, that ſhould riſe from the Sale of his Mercy, first to the Payment of her
Debt, and fecondly to the Suftenance of herſelf and Children.
First, She muft pay her Debt, Go, fell the Oil, and pay thy Debt: the Debt was
contracted by her dead Huſband, but, by the Law, it became hers, or her Children's,
as we fee by the Diſtreſs ſhe was in. That is a thing that Huſbands fhould confider
better of, than many of them do; they do not only leave their Relations comfortleſs,
but involved in Debts, and loaded which Incumbrances, either to the endangering
their Liberties, or cruelly perplexing them all their Life long. This indeed may
fometimes happen, notwithſtanding all the Care that a good Relation can take to prevent
it; but it happens ſo often, that there muſt needs be either a faulty Negligence, or
fome Unkindneſs at the bottom. 'Twere better to make much lefs Provifion for
them, but to leave it clear and diſentangled, than the Reputation of much Wealth, clog-
ged with fecret Debts and many Diminutions which they think not on, and to per-
petual Claims and Conteſts which they know not how to manage. But whether
this Prophet were to blame, or no, in leaving his Family thus in Debt, it does not
appear; it only appears that his Family was in much Trouble about it, and that fince
God had enabled this Woman to pay his Debt, the Prophet Elisha lays it upon her
to do it in the firſt Place, and that, before he gave her leave to live upon the Refi-
due. I do not meddle with this Example, as it affords us an Inftance of God's great
Goodneſs, in ſo miraculouſly ſupplying the Wants of this poor Family; for it was
a fingular Cafe, and the Affiftance fuch as neither Creditor nor Debtor could ex-
pect or afk, and confequently no one elfe, in the like Condition; but the Love
and
The Justice of Paying DEBTS.
73€
!
and Good-liking that God appears to bear to Justice is very remarkable, in working a
Miracle, that Juftice might be done where it was due; for, the firft Ufe that his Fa-
vour was to be put to, was, that he should pay her Hufband's Debt. The like thing
ſeems to have been done again, by the fame Elifba, Chap. vi, when he cauſed the
Iron to ſwim, againſt its natural Tendency, becauſe the poor Man, from whoſe Hands
it flipped, cried out to him, Alas, Mafter, for it was borrowed! Other Ufes, indeed,
were poffibly intended, and made, of theſe two Miracles; but the recommending
Juftice, and the Diſcharge of our Obligations to fuch as lend to us on Truft, is fuch
Uſe of them as no one can avoid making: 'tis the firſt and plaineſt Uſe that can be
made of theſe two Hiftories.
But I never knew any body want an Argument to convince them of the Juſtice
of paying their Debts, although they never paid them: the very owning them to be
Debts, is acknowledging them to be due and owing to their Creditors; and what is
owing to another Man, is none of their own, and therefore they are not lawful Pof-
feffors of it, whilft the other fuffers by the want of it: but they endeavour to fatisfy
themſelves, as to the point of Juftice, with either their total Inability, or their prefent
Inability of diſcharging their Debts; together with a fecret Purpoſe of doing it when
they are able, or a Referve of Hopes that they fhall meet with fome more favourable
Juncture of doing it, than the preſent is to them.
The Reaſonableneſs of doing Juſtice, and paying due Debts, is fo fettled in moſt
People's Hearts, that few in the World can ftand out in utter defiance of it, but are
fain to impofe, as it were, upon themſelves, the fame Excufes that they make to others,
that they may be a little at quiet within, as well as without, from the Reproaches
of their own Minds, as well as the Importunity of Creditors; and truly neither the
Laws of God or Man can fay more, in behalf of the Juſtice of paying our Debts,
than what every Man's own Heart can, and does fay to the fame purpoſe: they only
enforce the Diſcharge of Juſtice, with Promiſes of God's Favour, and Acceptance,
and Rewards; and the Contempt of it with Threats of his Diſpleaſure, and his Ven-
geance. Every body knows, that what they borrow is no longer, nor any other-
wife theirs, than for the Uſe and Diſpoſal of it, as is agreed, to the Content of both
Parties, and for the Time contracted for; the Right and Property of that, or what
is equal to it, ſtill remains with the Lender, and nothing can, in Conſcience, defeat
it, but his own Conſent and Will to depart from it. This is fo plain, that no body
is miſtaken in it: and yet almoſt every Day brings us accounts of, I know not how
many, fad Families, that are either ruined, or much endangered by the Credit they
have given their Neighbours; in most of which Cafes there muſt needs have been ſome
notable Failure, in Point of Juſtice; for I will not venture to fay it is fo in all.
No great Matters can, perhaps, be carried on, without a great Stock; no extraor-
dinary Advantages, without fome great Hazard; and, to this Purpoſe, Men muſt uſe
the Credit and Wealth of other People, becauſe their own is not fufficient: This is
ordinarily the Cafe, but it does not carry its Juftification with it; for what have you to
do to aim at Matters fo far above your own Sufficiency to carry on? What Reaſon have
you to be follicitous for extraordinary Advantages, at other People's Coft, who ſhall
not ſhare with you, in any Meaſure, tho' the Iffue be fuccefsful; but fhall be fure to
be undone, if you be fo? Let all the Venture and Hazard be your own, as you intend
the Advantage ſhall; undo your own Wife and Children, if you can find in your Heart,
and let not the Cries of other People's fall upon you; flight, if you will, the flow but
prudent Ways of gaining moderate Wealth, by Patience, Diligence, and Induſtry, but
flight them for yourſelf, and fuch as know and like your way of Management; and do
not haften to be rich with the Wealth of other People, who are content with moderate
Profit,
732
The Juftice of Paying DEBTS.
Profit, and would not truft you if they knew you: You are not innocent enough, in
not intending to do any others Miſchief, if the Hazard you run of doing it be very great.
If they are Partners with you, then they chooſe your Hazards, and muſt run your
Venture; but if they are but bare Creditors, you have no right to venture their un-
doing, if you cannot otherwife fecure them. I think it is this haftening to be rich, and
endeavouring to make great Fortunes in a little Time, by moft immoderate and
exceffive Gains, that makes a few Men become the Ruin of many Families, and con-
tract fo great Debts, that it is eaſier to refolve never to pay any, than to think of fa-
tisfying all; and that, we fee, is generally the Conclufion. I know not with wha❤
Patience Men can confider the Poverty and Mifery they have brought upon them-
felves and their own Families, by having ventured and loft their whole Eſtate, in
Hopes of making fome exceffive Profit by the Return, altho' it were all their own:
But one may fee, that this muſt be a great deal eafier, than to think of having ruined
many others, together with themſelves, who looked for no fuch Ufage at their Hands,
nor trufted what they lent upon fuch Bottom.
I own, that one may cafily talk unſkilfully in Matters of Trade; but I cannot fee
with what Honeſty and Juſtice a Man can venture another's Wealth beyond what
he is reaſonably able to anſwer, fuppofing a Miſcarriage, allowing for the common
Accidents of Trade; becauſe if he miſcarry, he knows he cannot do that Man Juſtice
by diſcharging his Obligations to him, and ſo he ventures an Injuſtice, (which is more
than a good Man can do) tho' he do not actually intend it. Our Forefathers gained
their Wealth with much more Certainty and Leifure; but their Eftates wore better,
and continued longer in their Families. Now Men feem vaftly rich upon the fud-
den, ſet up for Greatness preſently, and live profufely, and, in a little time, fink un-
accountably, and carry their Acquaintance with them, to the Bottom.
This living, therefore, after fo extravagant a manner, and fo much above their
Calling and Condition, and their true Eſtate, is another mighty Source of this In-
juſtice. Men will appear much richer than they are, by all the outward Marks of
Wealth, great Houfes both in City and in Country, luxurious Tables, multitude of
Servants, with Furniture and Equipage to Admiration; in order to obtain fuch Credit
as may enable them (they think) to be indeed as rich as they appear. And this
fometimes fucceeds; the Reputation of Wealth has fometimes been the Means of
getting Wealth, the Shadow has drawn on the Subſtance; but this is too great a Ven-
ture for an honeſt Man, if others be much hurt, fuppofing his Miſcarriage; and too
great for a prudent Man, though he alone ſhould ſuffer by it; becauſe the Wealth he
muſt expend in theſe Appearances and Shews of Wealth, would, with Frugality and
Wiſdom, be a ſufficient Bottom for his Induſtry to work upon, and he might live in
Credit equal to his Calling and Condition; he only wants to moderate his Defires,
and to learn to be content with an indifferent Sufficiency, and to live as he fees his
honeft and his fober Neighbours live, which his Eftate would allow. Others con-
tent themſelves (but God knows how) to live with this Extravagance, not with a
greater Defire of being rich, than appearing fo; becauſe the appearing fo anſwers
their chief Deſign, which is to live profufely and luxuriouſly at other People's Coſt.
Here the Reputation of not wanting, is made the very means of fupplying their
Wants; their feeming Abundance gives them Credit, where a much better Bottom,
with good Huſbandry, would hardly find it. Theſe People borrow with a certain
Purpoſe of doing Injuſtice to thoſe who lend, and with as certain a Purpoſe of ſpend-
ing the Fruits of their Injuſtice, in ways forbidden to People of their Condition,
whofe true Eſtate cannot afford them to live with fuch Profufion; and the very Rea-
fon for which theſe riotous Wafters contract ſo many Debts, namely, to live luxuri-
ouſly, is the very thing that difables them from ever paying them: So that at the
:
very
The Justice of Paying DEBTS.
733
very time they enter into Obligations to be juft, and pay their Debts, they cannot
fo much as with a ferious Thought intend it.
Since, therefore, this living above ourſelves, our Fortune and Condition, is found
to be ſo eaſy a Snare, and fo common a Temptation to fall into Injuſtice, and take
undue Courſes to feed that wafteful Humour, it is to be, at firſt, moſt carefully
avoided.
Young Beginners cannot be too often warned againſt this fort of Ill-huſbandry, that
betrays them infenfibly into many Inconveniencies: A fober and a frugal way of
living will be beft for them, in all Refpects, for many Years; at leaſt till they have
overcome all Difficulties, and find themſelves eaſy in their Condition. Young Tra-
ders, now-a-days, begin with living in fuch manner, as their Mafters before them ge-
nerally ended; but the Effect of that is often, that they almoſt end with their Begin-
ning, or linger out a few Years, but in a conftant vifible Decay. They begin, 'tis
true, with much a greater Bottom than their Maſters heretofore did: But then they
fhould confider, that together with the Money, all things elfe are changed; and ſo a
greater Sum, at this time, is but equal to a lefs, fome fifty or fixty Years ago; and
therefore there is need of as much Induſtry and Application, as much Sobriety and
Care, and good Huſbandry, to improve their larger Stock, as their Maſters exerciſed
to improve their fmaller one; and, indeed, without them, no Stock can be fufficient.
The fame Man will ſpend a little Stock fooner than a great one; but different Men
will undo themſelves with much the fame Expedition, becauſe their Laviſhneſs will
be meaſured by their different Stores, and fo they may both of them end together.
Care, and good Huſbandry, and Frugality, are fo much the Qualities of a good
Citizen, fo neceffary to the thriving in the World, the Occafions of fo many good
Things, and the Preventers of fo many bad ones, that you will not think I have been
recommending to you a vile, penurious, fordid way of living, or ſo diſtruſtful an
Anxiety as will not let you live with any Eafe or Comfort, but cauſe you to contract
fo narrow a Habit of Mind, by a long Cuſtom of living fparingly, that when you
ſhould obtain the Power and Means of living handfomly and freely, you ſhould not
yet be able to be willing to do it: This would be neither fit for me, nor good for
you. I am, at preſent, only concern'd to ſay, that fince an expenfive way of living,
above one's true Abilities, is (befides its other Dangers) a great Temptation to that
Injustice I am ſpeaking of, of borrowing, without a reaſonable Profpect of Abilities
to pay again, nothing can better ſecure you from this Snare, than fetting out at firſt
with great Caution and good Huſbandry. Let not your Table, nor your Furniture,
nor yet your Wife and Children, carry you beyond your juft Abilities, upon the
fureft Computation you can make, without fo fair and reaſonable a View of future
Succefs, as will juftify you, even to your Creditors, upon Mifcarriage. The Cenfures
of an idle Neighbourhood will fay, You are a poor Man, and worth but little; but
you your felf can add, that you are honeft too, and all that little is your own: They
will fay, you live but very meanly; and you can add, but very jufily: No body
wants that which you have, no body claims it from you, or has any Title to it.
And judge you which will give you the more Satisfaction, to be thought a fubftantial
Man by others, or to know yourſelf a Man of Honeſty and Juſtice. But you muft
live, you ſay, according to the Reputation you have in the World, or elſe muſt be
deſpiſed, or, it may be, according to the Dignity of your Office and Station: Not, if it
will engage you in Expence above your true Abilities, and run you into Debt: "Tis
better to be thought to live below yourſelf, than to know you live above what you can
honeftly afford for that Expence is not yours, but fomebody's elfe. Your Reputa-
tion is overvalued when you pay down any part of your Honefty to preſerve it; your
Dignity is not to be ſecured at the Expence of Justice; nor indeed is it, when once
we come to know the Debt contracted by fuch Expences: Then one defpifes his
4 N n
Vanity,
734
The Juftice of Paying DEBTS.
Vanity, and the other pities his Weakneſs, that would bring fuch Inconvenience on
himſelf, to make a Sher; and he that is injured feeks his Reparations. So that be-
twixt them all, it had been better to have incurred the Note of either being cove-
tous, or not fufficient for the Charge.
Theſe things I have been led to fay, from the Confideration of the Prophet's Di-
rection to this poor Widow, whom God had fo miraculouſly ſupplied, to pay her
Husband's Debt: Go, fell the oil, and pay thy debt. And fince we may, now, no more
expect than we deſerve, to be miraculouſly fupplied by God, for fuch a purpoſe, the
readieft way to preferve our Honefty, and hinder us from this piece of Injuſtice, will
be, to take all prudent Courfes, not to contract fuch Debts, as we can hardly hope
we ſhall be able to diſcharge. And becauſe the haftening to be rich, aiming at ex-
traordinary Matters, and grafping at more than we can hold, and the living at an Ex-
pence above our true Abilities, are the vifible Sources of this fort of Injuſtice, from
whence the Wrong and Ruin of fo many poor Families are ufually derived, the End
I aim at would, I thought, be beſt attained, by ſpeaking a little, of much that might
be faid upon thofe Articles.
The other Use of this Example is fo vifible and reaſonable, that I hardly need to
mention it, namely, that if ever it fhould pleaſe God to enable Men, Widows, or
Children, either by fome extraordinary Methods, or by fome happy Acceffion of
Eſtate, or by bleffing their Induſtry and Labour, to enable them to pay their Debts,
or thoſe of their Huſbands, or their Fathers, honeftly contracted, they ſhould be fure
to do it: And tho' they may, in their Diſtreſs, have made their Compoſitions with their
Creditors, and are acquitted legally, yet they ſhould think themſelves, in Confcience,
Debtors ftill, till all is fatisfied; and ſhould oblige themſelves, proportionably to their
new Abilities, to make that Satisfaction; by which they would acquit themſelves to
God and to their own Hearts, as well as to their Neighbours, of the true Senſe they
have of doing Juſtice, and give an Example uſeful and edifying to all the World.
This thing, methinks, is very plain; a Man muſt know himſelf a Debtor, tho' he
ſhould give no Bond or Security to him from whom he borrowed Money: And this
he knows is the Cafe, when a Bond is given, but loft, and no Evidence remaining
of it: The Courts of Judicature, perhaps, cannot relieve the Creditor, but the
Debtor knows he is a Debtor ſtill; his Obligation rifes from the Senſe he has of Juſtice,
and the Conſcience of having borrowed and not paid; he knows that nothing can
acquit him but his Payment, or the other's free Releaſe of his Debt. Now every body
knows, that in Compofitions the Releafe is not free, but with regard to Compaffion,
to Neceffity, and to the Diſability of the Debtor; and that if he were truly able to
pay
the whole, he would have no Releaſe without it: When therefore he is able to pay
the whole, his Confcience will oblige him to it, tho' the Law will not, unleſs the
Creditors declare their Satisfaction, tho' they know the Change of his Condition.
Theſe things every Debtor may know, by making himfelf a Creditor in Suppofition.
The other part of Elifba's Directions is, and live thou and thy fons upon the reſt.
What the Debt was, does not appear; but whatever it was, it was to be diſcharged,
and then the Refidue was at her Service: fhe might not diſpoſe of the whole, to her
own, or to any other's Ufe and Service, but muft ftay to fee what was her own,
which could not be done till the Debt was diſcharged; for the Debt was her Credi-
tors, and could not be reckoned in: She could call nothing her own, but what re-
mained to her after the Debt was paid; then fhe was free to uſe the reft. It may be
you may think, that this being God's free Gift, he might difpofe of it as he pleaſed;
but that it is no binding Rule to others, who are not fo dealt with. But, in truth,
this Direction is moſt exactly reaſonable and juft: No body can believe, that what
they have borrowed is their own; no body can compute he is worth a thousand Pounds,
tho'
The Fuftice of Paying DEBTS.
735
tho' he has it by him, who owes five hundred: He and his Children muſt not, there-
fore, live upon that thouſand, but the half of it; and if he lives upon the whole, he
lives upon his Creditors. The Way this poor Woman was enabled by, to pay her
Debts, was, indeed, moft extraordinary; but the Difpofal of the Treaſure, when
ſhe was enabled, is juſt what every Man's Reaſon and Confcience would fuggeft; firſt,
be juſt to others, and then, do what you can for yourſelf. This Text furniſhes us with
no new Argument to inforce the Obligation of doing Juftice in paying Debts, but
gives us, in a proper good Example, an Occafion of confidering what we know al-
ready, and what is written in all Men's Hearts; and when it fays, that when our
Debts are paid, we and our Families may live upon the rest, it fays no new
thing; for then we know, that the reft is truly ours, when no body elfe has any
Claim or Title to it, and not till then; and till then we eat and drink at other Peo-
ple's Tables, and fleep in other People's Houſes, and lie upon Strangers Beds; tho' we
fancy we are never fo much at Home, in our own Houſes, at our own Table, with
our own Furniture, yet this is truly the Cafe, where we owe more than we either
can or will pay.
Much contrary, both to the Example in the Text, and to the Reafon of it too,
do our Debtors now-a-days adviſe and practiſe; their Rule is the reverſe of the Pro-
phet's Directions; Go, and be fure to live, thou and thy Sons, in the first place, and
Let your
Creditors have the reft, even all you cannot hinder them from getting. Some of
them are fo villainous, that when they know they are undone, and in a little time in-
tend to proclaim they are undone, yet they will borrow ftill; in order, they tell us, to
fupport their miſerable Families. Miferable Families indeed, that are to be fup-
ported by fuch Robberies; for neither Violence upon the High-ways, nor breaking
our Houſes open, can have more Falfhood or more Malice in them, than fuch Bor-
rowings have: Dungeons and ftrait Priſons were made for fuch People, and not
fuch ſoft Confinements as allow them, nay, encourage them to ſpend their Spoil and
Booty with great Eafe and Luxury. If theſe People had had a true Compaffion for
their Families, and taken but half the Care they owed them, in wife and honeſt
Courſes, they might not have wanted a Proviſion ſo odious and unjuſt as this, which
will rather bring God's Anger on them, than prove a Bleffing and Support to them.
But if ſomebody's Wife and Children muſt needs be diftreffed, why not yours? who,
tho' they may be innocent and good themſelves, yet have, by their Relation to you,
more reaſon to fuffer with you, than any body elſe that trufted you: Why muſt
your
Children be your Creditors Heirs, in ſpite of their Teeth, and inherit, as from them,
fuch Fortunes as they could not have from you? and fuch, it may be, as thoſe Credi-
tors cannot afford to give their own Children? Live, you and your Children, on your
and leave to others and their Children what is theirs; for they can neither
want it, nor you keep it with your Innocence.
own,
But fince the Priſon itſelf (which is the legal Puniſhment of Debt) allows us Life,
and muſt provide for the ſuſtaining it, is it unlawful, whilſt at liberty, to ſubſiſt our-
felves and Families, tho' if we ſhould pay what we truly owe, we ſhould not be able
to fubfift with what were left? This Enquiry would take up a great deal of time to
anfwer it fully; at prefent therefore I only fay, that they who are fo ftraitened, ought
to live as ſparingly and meanly as is poffible, that they may thereby do the leſs Injury
(fince fome they will be fure to do) and be the fooner able to do Juftice to whom
they owe it: Conveniencies and Eafe belong not to thoſe (and much leſs any Superflu-
ities) who cannot furniſh Neceffaries out of their own; and therefore that would be a
Fault in them, confidering their Condition, which would be innocent, and even
commendable, were their Condition better: They must bear their own Burden, and
the Hardſhips which either the Providence of God, or their own Careleſsneſs, or
Folly,
736
The Juftice of Paying DEBT S.
Folly, Luxury, or Injuftice have laid them under; and their own Families muft
fhare their Fortune with them.
The Text allows me only to ſpeak to the Justice that Debtors owe; but I dare not
leave it ſo, without adding a Word or two, to the Mercy of Creditors. Not only
Chriſtian Charity, but common Prudence will oblige them to confider, whether
more Patience and Forbearance than they fometimes fhew, would not become them,
and be uſeful to them: ſometimes their Haſte and Anger involve their Debtors deeper
in Misfortunes, and perplex them more than there is need of; their Fears and
their Diſtruſts break in with ſo much Violence upon the fufpected People, that not
having time to look about, nor call in that Affiſtance they might hope for from their
Friends, they precipitate their Fall, which Leiſure and Advice might have prevented,
or at leaſt much ſoftened, and ſometimes make them defperately refolve to be as wick-
ed and unjuſt as they are unfortunate. This Cafe indeed is much more oft pre-
tended, than it really happens; but fince it fometimes happens, 'tis not only a Point
of Wiſdom, but of Humanity and Goodneſs, for a Creditor to confider it. When
things are hopeleſs and paſt Remedy, the Rules of Mercy are then plain and more obli-
ging, but ftill may be directed by the Knowledge we have of the Ways and Methods
by which theſe People came to be Inſolvent; for ſome of them are ſuch as will juſtify
great Rigour, others leſs; and others call for all Compaffion and Forgiveneſs, and
will not admit of any thing befides; and that is the ſafe fide for all private Chriſtians:
and therefore I will end with our Saviour's good Words, Be ye merciful, as your Father
who is in Heaven is merciful.
A DEFENCE
737
A
DEFENCE
O F
Praying before SERMON, as directed by
the LVth CANON.
"C
A
Part of a LETTER.
N D, as I very willingly, with your Advice and Approbation, took
<c
holy Orders, and am now, by your Favour, entring on the Mi-
"niſtry to ſerve a Cure, I earnestly defire you would determine for
re me, what uſe I ſhould make of the LVth Canon ; i. e. whether I
"ſhould turn the Heads of it into a Prayer, and fay as fome do, LET US PRAY; or
"uſe it as a Directory only, to tell the People what they are to pray for, repeating
"the very Words of the Canon, either PRAY YE, or YE SHALL PRAY.
Anfw. As to the Requeſt you make about the uſe of the LVth Canon; my Advice is,
that you turn the Heads of it into a Prayer, and fay, as fome do---LET US PRAY.
And that for thefe Reaſons.
I. Becauſe the Intention of the Canon is fully anſwered by this Method.
II. Becauſe there is a feeming Impropriety of Speech in uſing the very Words of
the Canon, which is avoided by making it a Prayer.
III. Becauſe there is a Concurrence of greater Authority in making it a Prayer, than
in uſing the very Words of the Canon.
I. First, The Intention of the Canon is fully anfwered by making it a Prayer. The
Intention of the Canon is plainly this:
Ift, That the People may learn for whom they are to pray, for all Chriftians; for
the Churches of England, Scotland, and Ireland; for the King, Queen, Prince, and
all the Royal Progeny, &c. In this Particular the Canon agrees with all the Injunctions,
or Bidding of Prayers, that were fet forth, and uſed, as well before the Reformation,
as fince, by Henry VIII. Edward VI. and Queen Elizabeth.
2dly, That the People might hear, and recognize the Stile and Title of their Prin-
ces, which they had taken upon them, and were due to them; fuch as Defender of
the Faith, and fupreme Governor in thefe his Realms, and all other his Dominions and
Countries, over all Perfons, in all Caufes, as well Ecclefiaftical as Temporal; a thing
the Papiſts utterly deny, and which many Diffenters fcrupled of old, and many ſcru-
ple ftill to acknowledge; as they alſo did, and ſtill do, to pray for Archbishops and
Bishops, as the Canon requires all Minifters and Lecturers to do.
3dly, The Intention of the Canon was certainly to reſtrain the Preachers from ma-
king any extravagant, impertinent, or tedious Excurfions in Prayer, before their Ser-
The Heads and Matters they were to ſpeak to, were but few, and that the
Canon fays, as briefly as conveniently they may.
400
mons.
Now
738
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
Now the Intention of the Canon in theſe Particulars is certainly very fully anfwered,
by turning it into a Prayer. The People are taught for whom they are to pray, by
the Miniſter's praying himſelf, and exhorting them to join with him in Prayer,
for all Chriftians, &c. And they are alſo taught to recognize the King's Titles, by
hearing the Minifter pray himſelf for the King by thofe Titles, and exhorting them
to join with him in doing the like. And lastly, The Minifters, by turning the Canon
into a Prayer, are as much reſtrained from all Impertinence and Tediouſneſs of Prayer,
as they would be by barely repeating the Words of the Canon; for, Let us pray, is
full as ſhort as, Ye ſhall pray: And if there be any other Intention of the Canon than
what is here mentioned, let it be what it will, it is as fully ſatisfied by, Let us pray,
as by, Pray ye.
II. The Second Reaſon, why I adviſe you to turn the Canon into a Prayer, by fay-
ing, Let us pray, is, becauſe there is a feeming Impropriety of Speech in uſing the
very Words of the Canon, which is avoided by making it a Prayer. There is a
Change of Perfon, without any vifible Neceffity, or indeed without any manner of
Elegance. The Miniſter is to uſe the Words, Pray ye, or, Ye shall pray, five feve-
ral times in the Canon, and then he is to change the Perfon, and take in himself; and
to ſay, Finally, let us praiſe God for all thoſe which are departed out of this
"Life in the Faith of Chrift, and pray unto God, that we may have Grace to direct
"our Lives after their good Example; that this Life ended, we may be made Parta-
"kers with them of the glorious Refurrection in the Life everlafting.
<<
י
Can any one affign a Reaſon, why the People ſhould not be taught and told by the
Miniſter, for whom they are to praise God, as well as for whom they are to pray to
him? Or can any one tell how, or why, the Minifter comes to be more concerned
to join with the People, in praying for Grace to follow the good Examples of the
Saints who are gone before him, and to partake with them in everlaſting Life, than
to join with them in praying for the Catholick Church, the King, the Clergy,
Council, and the Commonalty of the Realm, fince this is certainly as much his Duty
as the other? This, perhaps, may ſeem to ſome but a mere Nicety, but let it be no
more, (tho', for my own Part, I think it a great Impropricty of Language) I fee
not why it ſhould not be amended, when it may fo eafily be done by only faying,
Let us pray, inſtead of Pray ye, or Ye ſhall pray. i. e. by the Miniſter's making him-
ſelf a Party in the Prayer, as well as in the Praife, by joining with the Congregation
as well at the Beginning as at the Conclufion. And tho' I do not think the People are
very good Judges of proper or improper Language, yet fome Regard ſhould certainly
be had to their Underſtanding and Comprehenfion of Things, and they ſhould not
be moved to ftare and ftand amazed, more than they needs muft. It was very obſer-
vable, that when the Canon was lately revived by order of my Lord Biſhop of Lon-
don, that the Generality of the Audience, as well underſtanding as uneducated Peo-
ple, as well the Friends of the Church, as the Indifferent, were aftoniſhed and fur-
prized at the hearing the Change of Prayer; and when, upon Enquiry, they found
that the Order came from above, and was defigned to bring a great many Miniſters of
the Church of England to do their Duty, and to pray for King George, with all his
Titles, the Judgment which the People paffed immediately upon this Order, was,
Firſt, That it was very ftrange, that they who had taken the Oaths to King George,
ſhould want to be reclaimed fo foon to their accuſtomed Duty; but next, and moſt
eſpecially, that the Ufe of the Canon, as it was read according to the Letter, was far
from effecting the End intended by the Revival of it, which was, that the Minifters
ſhould pray
for King George, with all his Stiles and Titles; whereas, as it was mana-
ged,
as directed by the LVth CANON.
739
ged, the People were only told, who was their King, and were bid to pray for him;
and to this Day, the People do not think that the Minifters pray for the King, who
ufe the Letter of the Canon, who ſay, Pray ye, or, Ye shall pray. Now if the
Judgment of the Congregation in this Matter, and the Cenfure that attends it, be
worth the minding, why ſhould it not be mended and made right, when it may be
done, by ſo eaſy a Matter as the faying, Let us pray; by which it will appear to
Men of the loweſt Capacity, that the Minifters do alſo join in Prayer for the King
themſelves, as well as bid the People do it?
In 1637, Dr. Heylin, at the Requeſt of Dr. Curle, Biſhop of Winton, wrote a Brief
Difcourfe touching the LVth Canon, which is printed among his Works. In this
Difcourfe, he hath ſaid all that can well be faid, to prove the Form preſcribed in that
Canon, to be an Exhortation and Direction of the Minifter to the People, to teach them
what, and whom they are to pray for; and not an Invocation, with an immediate
Addrefs to Almighty God. And again in the fame Page 152, he ſays,
"It was not
"the Church's Purpoſe to bind her Minifters preciſely to the Words, which are there
"laid down; but that in that very Form of Words, or other Words to that effect,
they ſhould move the People to be mindful of thoſe particular Heads, for which
they were to join with him, at the Clofe of all, in the Lord's Prayer." By this it
ſhould ſeem, that Dr. Heylin believed the Canon did only oblige the Miniſter to move
the People to join with him in the Lord's Prayer, at the End and Cloſe of all.
CC
When I confider in what Times the Doctor wrote this Difcourfe, and how in-
tolerably great and ſhameful the Abuſe of Pulpit-Prayers became, by bold, and in-
diſcreet, and popular Enthuſiaſts; I do the lefs wonder to find a Man of Dr. Heylin's
Warmth and lively Spirit, to urge things to Extremity: The Provocations were above
moſt People's Patience. But I cannot be of his Mind about this Canon, but truly
think, that the Miniſter, without offending againſt this Canon, may with as much
Reaſon, (and with more Propriety) join with the People in Prayer, at the Beginning,
as at the End and Clofe of all; i. e. that the Canon will allow him, as well to pray
for the Church, the King, &c. together with the Congregation, as to repeat with
them the Lord's Prayer. And the
III. Third Reaſon I have for this Opinion is, That there is a Concurrence of greater
Authority for making a Prayer of it, than for uſing the Words of the Canon, in the
way of Exhortation or Direction only. And I believe, that moſt of the Examples,
brought by Dr. Heylin, will better ſerve my Point than his. I fhall make uſe of
them as they lie in his Difcourfe, obferving the Order of Time a little otherwiſe than
he has.
In 1535, Henry VIII. iffued out an Order in the Form following:
"This is an Order taken for preaching and bidding of Beads in all Sermons to be
"made within this Realm.
<c
¿C
First, Whofoever fhall Preach in the Preſence of the King's Highness, and the
Queen's Grace, fhall, in the Bidding of Beads, pray for the whole Catholick
« Church of Chrift, as well Quick as Dead, and eſpecially for the Catholick Church
" of this Realm: And Firſt, as we be moft bounden, for our Sovereign Lord King
FC
Henry the VIIIth, being immediately, next under God, the only fupreme Head
"of this Catholick Church of England, &c.
Nothing can be more evident from hence, than that the Preacher was injoined to
pray himself for the Catholick Church of Chrift, for the Church of England, for the
King, the Queen, Princess Elizabeth, for all Archbishops and Biſhops, &c.
In
740
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
In obedience to this Order, let us fee how Bishop Latimer prayed in 1536, before
the Convocation.
"
<c
us;
"That all that I fhall fay, may turn to the Glory of God, your Soul's Health,
and the edifying of Chrift's Body, I pray you all to pray with me to God, and
"that alfo in your Petitions you defire that theſe two Things he vouchfafe to grant
firſt, a Mouth for me to ſpeak rightly; next, Ears for you, that in hearing
me you may take Profit at my Hands; and that this may come to Effect, you
"ſhall defire him, unto whom our Maſter Chrift bad we ſhould pray, faying even
"the fame Prayer which Chriſt himſelf did inſtitute. Wherein * we ſhall pray for
"our Sovereign Lord the King, Chief, and fupreme Head of the Church of England
"under Chrift: And for the moſt excellent, gracious, and virtuous Lady Queen
Jane, his moft lawful Wife: And for all his, whether they be of the Clergy, or
Laity, whether they be of the Nobility, or elſe other his Grace's Subjects; humbly
beſeeching Almighty God, that every one of us, even from the higheſt to the
"loweſt, may, in his Degree and Calling, earneſtly endeavour to ſet forth the Glory
"of God, and the Goſpel of his Son Chrift Jefus : That fo, living in his Fear
" and Love, we may, in the end of our Days, depart out of this Life in his
Friendſhip and Favour. For thefe Graces, and what elſe his Wiſdom knoweth
"more needful for us, let us pray, as we are taught, faying,
<<
CC
CC
" which &c.
r
Our Father
No body can read this Prayer, but will find that Biſhop Latimer is as much con-
cerned in it, as any one of his Congregation; and that he does as openly join in the
Beginning of it, as at the End; and as much in every Petition of it, as he does in the
Lord's Prayer. Nor can any one help feeing (who will compare them) that he takes
Liberty to enlarge on the Particulars of King Henry's Order, and keeps not exactly
to the Words of it.
As foon as Edward VI. came to the Crown, he put out a Book of Injunctions, at
the End of which is
The Form of Bidding the Common-Prayers. This is the Title; but the Book of
Common-Prayer was not yet fet forth, for this came out in 1547. The Form
follows:
"You fhall pray for the whole Congregation of Chrift's Church, and eſpecially
"for this Congregation of England and Ireland, wherein, firſt, I commend to your
"devout Prayers, the King's moft Excellent Majefty, fupreme Head, immediately
"under God, of the Spiritualty and Temporalty of the fame Church; and for Queen
"Katharine Dowager, and alfo for my Lady Mary, and my Lady Elizabeth the
King's Sifters.
"C
"Secondly, You fhall pray for my Lord Protector's Grace, with all the reft of the
King's Majeſty's Council: For all the Lords of this Realm, and for the Clergy
"and Commons of the fame, befeeching Almighty God to give every one of them
"in his Degree, Grace to uſe themſelves in fuch wife, as may be to God's Glory, the
King's Honour, and the Weal of this Realm.
cc
Thirdly, You fhall pray for all them that be departed out of this World in the
"Faith of Chrift, that they with us, and we with them, at the Day of Judgment,
may reft both Body and Soul, with Abraham, Iſaac and Jacob, in the Kingdom
"of Heaven.
<<
Theſe Injunctions are to be found in Sparrow's Collections, and other Books; but
I have tranſcribed this Form of King Edward here, that you may fee and compare it
with the Prayers of Bishop Latimer, and Bishop Gardiner, three or four Years after,
and
*In the printed Sermons it is ye.
as directed by the LVth CANO N.
741
and obferve what Liberties they took to vary from the Words of it.
The firſt is
the Prayer that Latimer uſed, in 1550. After he had taken his Text, and propoſed
the Matter of it, he comes (as was then and long after the Cuſtom) to Bidding of
Prayers.
<<
<<
"And that I may, at this Time, fo declare them (i. e. the Points he propoſed to
ſpeak to) as may be for God's Glory, your Edifying, and my Diſcharge, I pray
you to help me with your Prayers; in the which Prayers, &c. For the univerfal
"Church of Chrift through the whole World, &c. for the Prefervation of our
"Sovereign Lord King Edward the VIth, fole fupreme Head, under God and Chriſt,
" of the Churches of England and Ireland, &c. Secondly, For the King's moſt
"honourable Council: Thirdly, I commend unto you the Souls departed this Life
"in the Faith of Chriſt, that ye remember to give Laud, Praiſe, and Thanks to
Almighty God, for his great Goodneſs and Mercy fhewed unto them, in that great
"Need, and Conflict againſt the Devil and Sin, and that gave them in the Hour of
"Death, Faith in his Son's Death and Paffion, whereby they might conquer, and
"overcome, and get the Victory. Give thanks, I fay, for this, adding Prayers and
Supplications for yourſelves, that it may pleaſe God to give you like Faith and
"Grace to truft only in the Death of his Dear Son, as he gave unto them: For as
"they be gone, fo muſt we; and the Devil will be as ready to tempt us, as he was
"them; and our Sins will light as heavy upon us, as theirs did upon them; and we
are as weak and unable to reſiſt, as they were. Pray therefore, that we may have
"Grace to die in the fame Faith as they did; and at the latter Day, to be raiſed
"with Abraham, Ifaac, and Jacob, and be Partakers with Chriſt in the Kingdom
"of Heaven. For this, and all other Graces, let us fay the Lord's Prayer.
<<
cc
That which is moſt obſervable in this Prayer, is, that altho' he keeps to the three
Heads of Prayer mentioned in the Injunction, yet he keeps not to the Words of them,
but enlarges very amply on the laft; and yet I dare fay, he was not thought to of
fend againſt the Injunction. And altho' he uſes the Word of the Injunction, I com-
mend unto you, &c. yet fince, at the Beginning, he prays the Congregation to help him
with their Prayers, for the Univerſal Church, &c. and at the latter End concludes
with we and us, as he did in his Prayer before the Convocation in 1536. I take it for
granted, that he did himſelf pray, as well as exhort the People to do ſo. As we ſhall
alfo fee in the Prayer which Gardiner, Bishop of Winton, made before the King in
the fame Year 1550.
'
"Moſt honourable Audience, I purpoſe, by the Grace of God, to declare fome
"Part of the Goſpel, that is accuftomably uſed to be read in the Church at this Day;
"and that, becauſe without the ſpecial Grace of God, neither I can ſpeak any thing
"to your Edifying, nor ye receive the fame accordingly, I fhall defire you all, that
« we may jointly pray all together, for the Affiſtance of his Grace. In which Prayer,
"I commend to Almighty God, your moft Excellent Majefty, our Sovereign
"Lord, King of England, France and Ireland, and of the Church of England and
«Ireland, next and immediately under God, here on Earth, fupream Head; Queen
"Katharine Dowager, my Lady Mary's Grace, and my Lady Elizabeth's Grace, your
Majeſty's moſt dear Sifters, my Lord Protector's Grace, with all others of your
"moſt honourable Council, the Spiritualty and Temporalty. And I fhall defire
you to commend unto God with your Prayers, the Souls departed unto God in
Chriſt's Faith; and among thoſe moſt eſpecially our late Sovereign Lord King Henry
"the VIIIth, your noble Father. For theſe, and for Grace neceffary, I fhall defire
you to ſay a Pater-nofter, and fo forth.
re
cr
(C
In the fame Year, 1550, died Martin Bucer, at Cambridge, and Dr. Parker (af-
terwards Archbiſhop of Canterbury) preached his Funeral Sermon; towards the Cloſe
4 Pp
of
742
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
of which he began his Exhortation, ad Preces. This was afterwards turned into
Latin, and put into Bucer's Opera Anglicana, where it may be found. Dr. Heylin
has tranſcribed a good deal of it, into his Difcourfe; which no body can read, but
he will fee that Dr. Parker did himſelf pray, as well as exhort the Audience to
do fo.
"Ut velum ignorantiæ Cordibus noftris detrabatur, &c. coram Deo clemente &
mifericorde nos profternamus, & piis precibus ab eo mifericordiam invocemus &c. ut
vocem Chrifti paftores unanimes audiant, & efficiamur unum Ovile &c. Precemur
"etiam pro nobis ipfis, ut &c.
<<
Whenever I find the first Perfon plural uſed by the Miniſter, I am fure the Mi-
niſter does there pray himſelf, as well as exhort others to it: And in my Opinion, the
Difference betwixt a Prayer by way of Exhortation, and one of Invocation, is grea-
ter in Sound than in Senfe. Can any one fee any great Difference betwixt the Mini-
fter's faying,
Let us pray for Chrift's Holy Catholick Church, that God would rule
and govern it in the right Way,
And this, We beseech thee, O Lord God, that
it may pleaſe thee to rule and govern thy Holy Church univerfal in the right Way: Both
Prieſt and People will, I dare fay, be thought to pray, as well in the firſt, as in the
latter Manner.
(c
"It is worth our noting (faith Dr. Heylin) that preſently upon the End of this
Exhortation, or Bidding of the Prayers, ufed by Dr. Parker, there follow in the
"Book theſe Words Hic facta funt tacitæ preces; by which we may perceive,
"that it was then the People's Practice, and is now our Duty, immediately upon
"the Bidding of the Prayers, or on the Preachers moving of the People to join with
"them in Prayer, to recollect the Heads recommended to them, and tacitly to repre-
"ſent them to the Lord in their Devotions, or otherwiſe to comprehend them in
"the Pater Nofter, with which the Preacher is, by the Canon, to cloſe up all.
I doubt not but this was truly fo, as is repreſented; for Cuſtoms of long Continu-
ance are not eaſily parted with, even when the original Reaſon of them ceaſes. Be-
fore the Reformation, the Prayers were all in an unknown Tongue, fo that the People
had little to do at Church, in the Publick Service, even when they were obliged to
be there: This appearing to be very hard and unreaſonable, and a great Abuſe of the
People's Patience, it was in time thought fitting, that the Prieſt ſhould now and
then apply himſelf to them in their Mother Tongue, and tell them for what particu-
lar Perfons and Things they ſhould pray; and when he had done this, he
gave them
a little ſpace of time to do it in, and then proceeded in his Latin Service. One of
the oldeſt Copies of ſuch a Form of Bidding Prayers, is to be found at the End of
Anth. Harmer: But a much better of the fame kind, at the End of Hamon L'Eftrange's
Alliance of Divine Offices, fent to him from the Univerſity Library of Cambridge.
This Cuſtom, I fay, of giving the People a little ſpace of Time to ſay their filent
Prayers in, might reaſonably enough continue till 1550, and it may be a good while
longer; for as the fame Mr. L'Etrange obferves, the Injunctions of Edw. VI. 1
1547,
and even of Q. Elizabeth, 1559, were made before the reformed Liturgy was by
Law eſtabliſhed, by each of thoſe Princes; and even when it was eſtabliſhed by
Law, and Morning and Evening Service were performed, as it now is fettled, yet we
may reaſonably enough preſume that the common People might want, as yet, to be
inſtructed for what and whom they were to pray. But the Princes reigning had
another End to ferve by their Injunctions, and that was (as is fhewn before) to be
pray'd for by their proper Titles, which they had taken upon them fince the Refor-
mation, fupreme Head, &c. which is not recognized or acknowledged in either
Morning or Evening Prayer; and is therefore enjoined to be done in the Pulpit be-
fore Sermons. And were it not to ferve this prudent End of Government, I have
heard
as directed by the LVth CANON.
743
heard fome wife and worthy Men obferve, that they could fee but little Ufe, and
lefs Neceffity for Canon or Injunction, either to make or bid any Prayer at all, be-
fore the Sermon, after fo full and folemn a Service as is juft over, wherein the
Congregation has been as much concern'd as the Preacher. But fince there were, are,
and will be (in all Likelihood) People who will not own and acknowledge their
Princes to be in all Caufes, and over all Perfons, as well Ecclefiaftical as Civil, Su-
preme Heads and Governors, the Canon muſt ftill ftand in its full Force, as the In-
junctions, for their time, did: And that Matter is not now queftion'd; but whether,
fince the Cuftom of giving the People a fhort Time to fay their Prayers in, is ceaſed,
and has not been uſed theſe hundred Years laft paft, for any thing that I can learn,
whether, I fay, it be ftill reaſonable to continue the Cuftom of Bidding Prayers, in
the Way that Dr. Heylin means? For, as for the People's recollecting the Heads re-
commended to them, and tacitly prefenting them to God in their Devotions, or com-
prehending them in the Lord's Prayer,----That is certainly done much better, and
with leſs Trouble, and lefs Danger of Neglect, by the Miniſter's turning the Canon
into a Prayer, and the People's joining with him in every Part and Petition of it, as
well as with the Lord's Prayer, at the Clofe of all. And, after this long Digreffion,
I come again to ſay, that Dr. Parker, by uſing ſo often the First Perfon Plural,----
Noftris---profternamus, invocemus, efficiamur, & precemur --- did certainly pray him-
felf for thoſe Particulars, as well as bid the Audience do fo. And fince Biſhop An-
drews calls upon his Audience to join with him in Prayer, and uſes the Phrafes, In-
vitemus hùc Numen; precemur, & preces offeramus; I ſhall take him to be on my
fide of this Queftion, till I fee more Reafon to the contrary. Theſe Paffages I take
out of Dr. Heylin, for I have not the Opufcula by me. And as to the Paffages di-
rected to in his Book of Sermons, they fhew not, with any Clearnefs, what his Me-
thod was; he might as well fay, Let us pray,---as---Ye shall pray, for any thing that
appears there to the contrary.
But let us fee what Dr. Parker's Opinion was in 1560, when Archbishop. The Vth
Article of Enquiry, in his Metropolitical Vifitation, was, Whether the Parfon and
Vicar pray for the profperous State of the Queen's Majesty, as is prefcribed in her Grace's
Injunctions therein accordingly? Parker's Life, Appendix, p. 18. The Words of the
Injunction are, ---- And herein I require you most especially to pray for the Queen's most
Excellent Majefty, &c. The Article ſuppoſes the Parfon or Vicar to pray himſelf for the
Queen's Majeſty, and obliged to do ſo by the Injunction; whereas the Words I require
you, look as if the Parfon or Vicar were bidding the People to pray for the Queen's
Majefty. The beſt Way of reconciling thefe Things, is to confider the Injunction as
directed to the Parfon or Vicar, bidding him pray for the Queen's Majefty; for how
ſhould it be a Matter prefentable by the Church-Warden, or punishable by the Biſhop,
for a Parfon not to pray for the Queen's Majesty, by Virtue of the Injunction, if the
Injunction does not oblige the Parſon to pray for the Queen's Majefty? As certainly it
does not, if he muft only fay to the People, Pray ye, or, Ye shall pray, for the
Queen's Majefty; for he is not thereby underſtood to pray himself, but to bid others
to pray.
We muſt make, I think, the ſame Conftruction of Archbishop Whitgift's Vifita-
tion Articles in 1589. one of which is, Whether your Miniſter uſeth to pray for the
Queen's Majefty, Queen Elizabeth, by the Title and Stile due to her Majefty, appointed
by the Statutes of this Realm, and her Highness's Injunctions, and exhort the People to
Obedience to her Highness, and other Magiftrates being in Authority under her? Life of
Whitgift, p. 310.
No body can read this Article, but he will find in it that the Archbiſhop has a mind
to know, whether the Minifter of the Pariſh did himfelf pray for Queen Elizabeth,
with the Stile and Title due to her, as he was obliged to do, by her Injunctions? But if
the
744
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
the Miniſter of the Parish keep to the very Words of the Injunction, and herein I
require you most especially to pray for the Queen's most Excellent Majefty, &c. how
will it appear that he prays himself, who only requires the People to pray?
To make theſe Things confiftent, it will not be quite enough to underſtand the In-
junction as directed wholly to the Clergy, commanding them to pray for the Particu-
lars therein mentioned, unleſs we alſo underſtand the Clergy not to be obliged to uſe
thoſe very Words, ---- I require you ---- but to anſwer the End and Purpoſe of them,
by praying himſelf for thofe Particulars, as he certainly does, who ufes the Words,
----Let us pray: For this will make good Senfe, and good English, and reconcile
the Article with the Injunction. And that this may appear as reaſonable to you, as it
does to me, you will do well to look into the Canon, which I will tranſcribe hither,
and place the Latin over againſt the English, that you may fee how they agree, and
wherein they differ.
I.
LATIN.
1. PRecationis Formula, a Conciona-
toribus in concionum fuarum in-
greffu imitanda.
2. Omnes Concionatores & Miniftri,
in aditu cujufque fuæ Concionis, Lecture,
& Homiliæ, Populum hortabuntur, ut fe-
cum in Precibus concurrat in hunc aut
fimilem modum, idque (quantum licet)
fummaria brevitate.
3. Precamini pro Chrifti Sancta Eccle-
fia Catholica, id eft, pro Univerſo Cœtu
Chriſtiani Populi per Orbem terrarum
diffufi & diffeminati, fpecialiter verò pro
Ecclefiis Angliæ, Scotia, & Hiberniæ.
4. Et in his præcipue pro Excellentif
fima Regia Majeftate, Clementiffimo
Domino noftro Jacobo, Dei Gratia, Angl.
Scot. Fran. & Hib. Rege, Fidei Defen-
fore, & fuper omnes Perfonas, in omni-
bus Caufis tam Ecclefiafticis quam Civi-
libus, intra Regna & Dominia fua fupre-
mo Gubernatore.
5. Precamini etiam pro Sereniffima
Regina Anna, Nobiliffimo Principe Hen-
rico, reliquaque Regia Sobole illuftriffima.
6. Precamini etiam pro Miniftris Divi-
ni Verbi & Sacramentorum, tam Archie-
pifcopis & Epifcopis, quam cæteris Paftori-
bus & Curatis.
7. Precamini etiam pro Honoratiffimis
Regiæ Majeftatis Confiliariis, ac Proce-
ribus,
I.
CANON LV.
THE Form of a Prayer to be used
by Preachers before their Sermons.
2. Before all Sermons, Lectures, and
Homilies, the Preachers and Minifters fhall
move the People to join with them in
Prayer, in this Form, or to this Effect, as
briefly as conveniently they may.
3. Ye fhall pray for Chrift's Holy Ca-
tholick Church, that is, for the whole Con-
gregation of Chriftian People, difperfed
throughout the whole World, and especially
for the Churches of England, Scotland,
and Ireland.
4. And here I require you moft efpe-
cially to pray for the King's moft Excellent
Majefty, our Sovereign Lord James, King
of England, Scotland, France and Ire-
land, Defender of the Faith, and Supreme
Governor in thefe his Realms, and all other
his Dominions and Countries, over all Per-
fons, in all Caufes, as well Ecclefiaftical
as Temporal.
5. Ye fhall also pray for our gracious
Queen Anne, the Noble Prince Henry, and
the rest of the King's and Queen's Royal
Iffue.
6. Ye fhall alſo pray for the Minifters
of God's Holy Word and Sacraments, as
well Archbishops and Bishops, as other
Paftors and Curates.
7. Ye fhall alſo pray for the King's moſt
Honourable Council, and for all the Nobi-
lity
as directed by the LVth CAN O N.
745.
ribus, & Magiftratibus hujus Regni uni-
verfis; ut hi omnes & finguli, in fuâ
quifque vocatione, ad Dei Gloriam Popu-
lique ædificationem & rectam adminiftra-
tionem officiis fuis diligenter & fideliter
perfungantur, memores reddendæ olim
Rationis, cum ad Chrifti Tribunal fiſten-
tur judicandi.
8. Precamini etiam pro Populo & Ple-
be hujus Regni univerfo, ut in vera fide,
& Sancto Amore Dei, in humili erga Re-
Obedientia & fraterna erga fe invicem
Charitate vitam fuam inftituant.
gem
9. Poftremò gratias & laudes Deo red-
damus pro illis omnibus qui in Fide Chri-
ſti ex hac vita excefferunt, humiliter Deo
fupplicantes, ut per illius Gratiam, vitam
noftram ad pium eorum Exemplar diri-
gamus, ut ita tandem hac mortali vita de-
functi, refurgamus cum illis in Die Jefu
Chrifti ad cæleftem gloriam & vitam æter-
nam: Semper cum Oratione Dominica
concludentes.
lity and Magiftrates of this Realm, that
all and every of those, in their feveral
Callings, may jerve truly and painfully
to the Glory of God, and the Edifying and
well governing of his People, remembring
the Accompt that they must make.
8. Alſo ye ſhall pray for the whole
Commons of this Realm, that they may
live in the true Faith and Fear of God, in
bumble Obedience to the King, and Bro-
therly Charity one to another.
9. Finally, Let us praife God for thofe
which are departed out of this Life in the
Faith of Chriſt, and pray unto God, that
we may have Grace to direct our Lives
after their good Example: That this Life
ended, we may be made Partakers with
them of the glorious Refurrection, in the
Life everlafting: Always concluding with
the Lord's Prayer.
Upon reading and comparing the Latin Canon with the English one, you may ob-
ſerve that the one is not a verbal Tranſlation of the other, tho' they were made by the
fame Perſons, at the fame Time, and upon the fame Occafion, and printed in the
fame Year 1604: But they are equally authentic; and he who follows the one, does
as well as he who follows the other; and I cannot find out which of them was com-
poſed firſt, the English or the Latin.
In the English it is, ye shall pray.
In the Latin it is, Precamini, pray ye, imperatively.
In the English it is, I require you.
In the Latin, there is no fuch Thing as I require you.
Other Differences there are, but I make uſe of none but the laft; and that ſhall only
be to infer from it, that he who leaves out thofe Words, I require you, complies as
much with the Canon, as he who uſes them, becauſe the Latin is as much the Canon
as the English is.
Another thing I would obſerve to you is, that there is no fort of Preface to the In-
junction; but there is a very remarkable one to the Canon, for the Preachers and Mi-
niſters are bid to move the People to join with them in Prayer. From whence it is evi-
dent, that the Miniſters are enjoined themſelves to pray for the Church, for the King,
and for other Particulars there mentioned, and to move the People alfo to join with
them in praying for the fame; for how can People join in Prayer with the Miniſter,
unleſs the Miniſter himself pray? The Clergy were in truth the moſt ſuſpected People
of the Kingdom, and the moſt averfe to owning the King for Supreme Head; and
therefore the Injunctions of Henry VIII, Edward VI, and (at firſt) of Queen Elizabeth,
were fet out principally for the Clergy's fake, to be, as it were, a Teſt of their Loyalty,
and Submiffion to the Changes that were made, eſpecially that great one of the Su-
premacy, which if the Clergy once acknowledged, there was little doubt but the Lai-
ty would eafily come into; for, I think, as young as you are, you cannot but have ob-
4 Q I
ferved,
746
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
3
ferved, that as the Clergy, generally ſpeaking, are affected to their Governors, fo are
the Laity. It is therefore a great Abſurdity in Politics, to think that the Clergy were
not obliged to pray for the King as Supreme Head themſelves, but only obliged to bid
the People pray for him, as fuch. But I infiſt not upon political Reaſons; I am fully
perfuaded, that the Preface to the Canon does not only juſtify, but was truly the Ground
of the Vifitation Articles of ſo many Biſhops as I am going to produce in behalf of
turning the Subſtance of the Canon into a Prayer. And for the greateſt part of this
Collection, I am obliged to a very eminent and worthy Perſon, of great Exactneſs
and Fidelity, whom you may truft as you would my Eyes, which have alſo ſeen the
greateſt part of them.
In 1603, the Canons were made in Latin and English, and printed by Authority
in 1604.
In 1604, the Biſhop of Oxon in his Vifitation, J. Bridges.
"Whether do your Minifters, in their Sermons, pray for the King's Majefty, &c.
It was the Cuſtom heretofore for the Preacher to take his Text, make his Introdu-
ction, divide it into proper Heads, and then to bring in his Prayer, and then go on
with his Sermon.
In 1604, Archbishop Bancroft.
"Doth your Minifter ufe to pray for the King's Majefty, with Addition of fuch
"Stile and Title, as are due?
The fame Archbiſhop Bancroft, in his Metropolitical Vifitation-Articles, for Ten
Dioceſes, in 1605.
"Art. V. Whether doth your Minifter ufe to pray for the King's Majefty, and for
"the Queen's Majefty, the Prince, and all their Royal Progeny, with Addition of
« fuch Stile and Titles, as are due, and appertaining to his Majeſty ?
Biſhop of Worcester, 1607, Gervafe Babington.
"Doth your Miniſter uſe to pray for the King's Majefty, giving unto him fuch
"Stile and Title as, &c. and alfo in their Sermons pray for Archbishops and Biſhops, &c.
according to the LVth Canon.
<<
<<
Archdeacon of Norfolk, 1608, Richard Stokes.
"If any Miniſter before the Sermon doth not pray for the Church, the King and
Queen's Majeſty?
Archbiſhop Abbot in 1613.
"Doth your Miniſter uſe to pray for the King's Majefty, with Addition of fuch
"Stile and Titles as are due?
Archbishop Abbot, in 1618, hath the fame Article.
Biſhop of Loncoln in 1618, George Mountain.
"Hath your Minifter, or any other Preacher, prayed for Chrift's Holy Catholick
«Church, the King's Majefty, &c.
Biſhop of Oxon, in 1619, John Howfon.
"Doth your Preacher in his Prayer, which he maketh at his Sermon, ufe to pray
"for his Majefty, &c. and in the like manner, doth he then pray for Archbiſhops,
Biſhops, &c.
"
Biſhop
as directed by the LVth CANO N.
747
Biſhop of Norwich, 1619, John Overall.
"Doth the Minifter ufe always to pray for the King's Majefty, &c. giving them
"their full Titles, as in the Canon is required?
(C
Biſhop of Norwich, 1620, Samuel Harfenet.
"Doth your Minifter uſe always to pray for the King's Majefty, the Prince, Cler-
gy, and Council, in the Form of Prayer preſcribed in the Conftitutions, publiſhed
"in that behalf 1603?
Biſhop of Lincoln, 1622, John Williams.
"Hath your Miniſter, or any other Preacher, prayed for Chrift's Catholic Church,
"the King's Majefty, &c. as is preſcribed Can. LV.
Biſhop of Peterborough, 1623, Thomas Dove.
"Whether your Miniſter doth uſe to pray for the King's moſt Excellent Majeſty,
"in the fame Form, and by the fame Stile and Title due to his Majefty, fet down
"and expreffed in Canon LV?
Archdeacon of Sudbury, 1624, Theophilus Kent, A. M.
"Doth your Minifter, before his Sermon, pray for his Majefty, &c. and commend
"his Highneſs, &c. in his Prayer to Almighty God?
Biſhop of St. David's, 1625, William Laud.
"Doth your Minifter, before his Sermon, pray for the King's Majefty, and ex-
"hort the People to Obedience?
Here I would stop a while, becauſe it is at Bifhop Laud, and would ſuppoſe an
honeft, fenfible Church-Warden might offer, with all Modefty, a few fuch Words as
theſe.
cc
r
"If, my good Lord, a Man can properly be faid to pray himself for the King's
Majefty, by bidding other People pray for him, then I can fafely fay, our Minifter
" does pray for the King's Majefty, for he requires it of us every Sunday, before his
"Sermon. But if the Word Pray be taken in the Senfe of us plain and common
People, for addreffing to God by himſelf, or in the Name of the Congregation, then
"I muſt anſwer negatively; for tho' he always concludes with the Lord's Prayer,
"yet that is not praying for the King's Majefty, which was the Enquiry of
Lordship in the Article.
<C
Archdeacon of London, 1626, Thomas Paske.
your
"Doth he uſe the Form of Prayer, before the Sermon, for the King's Majeſty?
Biſhop of Norwich, 1627, Samuel Harfenet.
"Doth your Minifter ufe always to pray for the King's Majefty, as in the Canon
<< is required?
Who would not from hence conclude, that the Canon required the Miniſter himſelf
to pray for the King, and not only to name the King as a Perfon for whom the Peo-
ple were to pray?
Biſhop
748
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
Biſhop of Oxon, 1628, John Howfon, tranflated to Durham this Year.
"Doth your Preacher, in his Prayer which he maketh at his Sermon, uſe to pray
"for the King's Majefty?
Biſhop of Oxon, 1629, Richard Corbet.
"The fame Words with his Predeceffor Howfon.
And if the fame Words, on the fame Occafion, may imply the fame Thing, then
I ſhould think that theſe two Biſhops did not believe the Clergy were ſo ſtrictly tied
up to the Words of the Canon, but that they might make a Prayer of their own be-
fore the Sermon, provided they prayed for the King with his Titles, and for all other
the Particulars preſcribed in the Canon, with all convenient Brevity, which is a Cir-
cumſtance always to be remembred.
Biſhop of Norwich, 1629, Francis White.
"Doth your Miniſter uſe always to pray for the King's Majefty, and giving them
"their full Titles, as in the Canon is required ?
cc
Biſhop of Bath and Wells, 1630, Walter Curle.
"Doth your Miniſter, in his Prayer, before his Sermon, uſe to pray for the
King's Majefty, &c. The ſame again, in 1633, when he was Biſhop of Winton.
Biſhop of Lincoln, 1630, John Williams.
"Doth your Minifter, before his Sermon, Lecture, or Homily, pray for the King's
Majefty, &c. following that Form of Prayer preſcribed in the LVth Canon?
Archdeacon of London, 1632, Thomas Pafke.
"Doth he uſe the Form of Prayer, before the Sermon, for the King's moſt excel-
"lent Majefty, &c.
દર
Biſhop of Oxon, 1632, John Bancroft.
"Hath your Miniſter in his Prayer, before the Sermon, uſed to pray for the King's
Majefty?
Biſhop of Peterborough, 1633, Auguftine Lindfell.
pre-
"Doth your Miniſter obſerve the Form of Prayer, before his Sermon, that is
"fcribed by the LVth Canon, therein moving the People, as they are there directed,
"to join with him in Prayer, for Chrift's Holy Catholick Church, &c. always con-
cluding with the Lord's Prayer?
દ
<<
Archdeacon of Gloucester, 1633, Samuel Burton.
"Doth he uſe to pray for the King's Majeſty, &c. and for all Archbiſhops and
Biſhops, according to the LVth Canon?
Archdeacon of Norfolk, 1634, Robert White.
"Doth your Miniſter, always before the Sermon, pray for Chrift's Holy Catho-
«lick Church, &c. And doth he always conclude his Prayer with the Lord's
Prayer, according to the Canon LV?
<<
Archbishop
as directed by the LVth CANON.
749
Archbiſhop of Canterbury, 1635, W. Laud.
}
"Doth your Miniſter uſe to pray for the King's Majeſty, &c?
Archdeacon of Berks, 1635, John Ryves.
"Doth your Miniſter, before and at the beginning of every Sermon, move the
"People to join with him in Prayer, in fuch Manner and Form, and to ſuch Effect
" as in the LVth Conftitution is preſcribed?
Biſhop of Hereford, 1635, Matthew Wren.
"Doth your Minifter, Preacher, or Lecturer, before his Sermon, or Homily, if
" he read one, ufe any Form of Prayer, of his own inventing or choofing? Or doth
"he contain himſelf within that brief Form only, which is preſcribed in the LVth
"Canon, thereby to move the People to join with him in Prayer for, &c. and doth
"he always conclude it with the Lord's Prayer?
Biſhop of Norwich, 1636, Matthew Wren. Injunctions.
"That the Prayer before the Sermon be exactly according to the LVth Canon,
« mutatis mutandis, only to move the People to pray, in the Words there pre-
"fcribed, and no otherwife, unleſs he defires to interpofe the Names of the two
Univerfities, and of a Patron; and no Prayer to be uſed in the Pulpit after Ser-
86
mon.
Biſhop of Norwich, 1636, Matthew Wren. Vifitation.
"Doth he, before his Sermon, or Homily, uſe any Form of Prayer, which is of
"his private conceiving or collecting, and of his own inventing or choofing? Or doth
"he contain himſelf within that brief Form only, which is preſcribed by the Church
« in Canon LV, to move the People to join with him in Prayer?
\
Here it will be convenient to obferve to you, that in 1641, amongst the many
Articles which the House of Commons fent up to the House of Lords, againſt Biſhop
Wren, part of the XIth Article is,
<<
"That endeavouring to fupprefs the Benefit and Power of Prayer, in 1636, he
enjoined, that no Miniſter ſhould uſe any Prayer before his Sermon; but move the
People to pray, only in the Words of the Lth (it ſhould be the LVth) Canon, made
" in 1603. Rushworth, Vol. IV. p. 352.
<<
The Words of Biſhop Wren's Injunctions are truly cited by the House of Commons.
But if thoſe Gentlemen had had the Candor of fair and equal Judges, they might have
feen, that in 1635, the fame Man, when Biſhop of Hereford, as well as in 1636,
when Biſhop of Norwich, had ufed the Words of the Canon, to move the Peo-
ple to join with him in Prayer, which were left out, 'tis probable, by chance, in his
Injunctions, fince the Injunctions were directed to the fame Clergymen as the Vifi-
tation-Articles were fent to, and preſently after, in the fame Year, and could not
therefore be done with any Deſign to fupprefs the Power of Prayer. But fince the
leaving out of theſe Words,--
----- to join with him in Prayer, became a matter of Ac-
cuſation, (for had thoſe Words been in, they muſt have accufed the Canon itſelf, and
not the Bishop) 'tis plain that the Houfe of Commons believed thofe Words, to join
with him in Prayer, were very fignificant, and did fufficiently authorize the Miniſter
to pray himſelf, and not only to bid the People pray for, &c. But fince thofe People
who are for ſtrictly adhering to the Letter of the Canon, are fuch as will not pay (as
indeed I think they do not owe) any great Reverence to the Judgment of this Houſe of
4 R r
Commons,
750
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
}
Commons, I will not infift upon it, but will make Biſhop Wren himſelf the Judge, whe-
ther it be lawful to pray otherwiſe than the Canon requires, in fome Particulars? If it
be not, how comes he to allow the Miniſter to pray for either University, or both, or
for any private Patron? The Canon mentions no fuch Thing, or Perfon: He had feen
it done in Cambridge, where he was bred; there he might hear Men praying for the
Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Proctors, Taxers, and for particular Colleges, &c. But not
a Word of this in the Canon: The Parliament itself, when fitting, is not mentioned
in the Canon; and therefore if the Canon is to be the Rule from which the Preacher
is not to vary in the leaft, how comes the Parliament, Oxford, or Cambridge, or any
private Patron, to be prayed for, before Sermon? And what Authority has any
fingle Biſhop to allow fuch thing? The true Anfwer to this is, Custom hath authorized
it: And I allow it for a good Anfwer, but you muſt alſo take this along with
you, that
fince this was cuſtomary long before the Canon, and cuftomary when the Canon was
made, and hath been customary ever fince, it is not to be prefumed that the Canon
ſhould ſo ſtrictly oblige Men to adhere to the Letter of it, as not to fuffer the leaft
Variation; and therefore they who over rigidly exact this at the Preacher's hands, do
not enough confider what they do, condemning thereby not only the two Univerſities,
but every fingle Clergyman throughout the Kingdom, who I dare fay has varied from
the Canon, either by adding fomething in his Prayer that was not in the Canon, or
leaving out fomething that was. But enough of this.
(C
Archbishop of Canterbury, 1636, William Laud.
"Doth your Miniſter ufe to pray for the King's Majefty, &c?
Archdeacon of Suffolk, 1636, Robert Pearfon.
"Have your Minifters uſed continually before their Sermons, the Form of Prayer
preſcribed in the LVth Canon?
Archdeacon of Norfolk, 1637, by William Lewin Official.
"The fame Words with Biſhop Wren, in 1636.
Biſhop of London, 1637, William Juxon.
"Doth your Miniſter, in his Prayer before Sermon, obferve the Directions of the
"LVth Canon, as well for Form as for Matter?
Archdeacon of Worcester, 1637, Edward Thornborough.
"Doth your Miniſter, before his Sermon, uſe the Form of Prayer preſcribed by
"the LVth Canon?
Commiffary General to the Archbiſhop of Canterbury.
"Doth your Miniſter uſe to pray for the King's Majeſty, &c?
Biſhop of Oxon, 1638, John Bancroft.
" Hath your Miniſter, in his Prayer before his Sermon, uſed to pray for, &c?
Archbiſhop of Canterbury, 1638, William Laud.
"Doth your Miniſter uſe to pray for the King's Majefty, &c?
Biſhop of Norwich, 1638, Richard Mountague.
"Be his Prayers, before and after Sermon, drawn out at length to equal, if not
"exceed his Sermon ? Or doth he, as he ſhould, conform himſelf to the Prayer
"which is recommended as a Form, Canon LV, confifting of Prayer, Praiſe and
"Thankſgiving?
Theſe
as directed by the LVth CAN Ó N.
751
Theſe Articles were printed at London, but fo faultily, it feems, that the Biſhop dif-
avowed them, and printed them again at Cambridge; and in the Article before us,
made the following Change.
"Or doth he (as he ſhould) conform himſelf unto the Words which are com-
"mended as a Form, Canon LV, confifting of Prayer for all Eſtates of Men, and
"of Praiſe or Thanksgiving, &c?
One great Abuſe of the Pulpit-Prayers, was their infufferable Length and Tedi-
ouſneſs, which the Canon did unquestionably intend to prevent and hinder, by appoint-
ing them to be compofed as briefly as conveniently they may. But from hence we may
alfo conclude, that they who compofed the Canon, did not intend to tie Men ſtrictly to
the Letter of it, or oblige them to uſe no other Words; for if they had intended that,
what need they talk of convenient Brevity, when the very Form was preſcribed? For
how can any Form, from which we muſt not vary in the leaft, be either longer or
Shorter than it is?
Biſhop of Gloucester, 1640, Godfrey Goodman.
"Doth your Minifter, in the Prayer ufed immediately before the Sermon, ufe to
pray for the King's Majefty, &c. and obſerve all other things preſcribed in the LVth
"Canon? And doth he alſo uſe to pray for the Archbishops and Biſhops, &c ?
Biſhop of London, 1640, William Juxon.
"Doth your Minifter, as well before the Homily as before the Sermon, move and
"exhort the People to join in Prayer, according to the Form laid down in the Book
" of Canons? And doth he uſe any other Form than is there preſcribed?
Here I muſt aſk again at laſt, as I did at firſt, whether it be poffible for a Mini-
fter to move the People to join with him in Prayer, for any Perſon or Thing, un-
leſs the Miniſter himſelf pray for that Perfon or Thing? With what Propriety of
Speech can a Biſhop aſk a Minifter, whether he prays for the King, as Supreme Head,
if he only means, do you bid the People pray for the King, as Supreme Head? Or
how can the Miniſter truly anſwer,---- Yes, I do pray for him, by bidding the People
do fo; fince this is not the common and accuſtomed uſe of the Words? The People
are not only to pray for the King themſelves, but they are to join with the Miniſter,
in praying for him. So fays the Canon, The Minifter is to move the People to join
with him in Prayer for the King, &c. Therefore, fay I, the Miniſter muſt himſelf
pray, or elſe I know not how the People ſhould join with him. But it is, it ſeems,
to be according to the Form laid down in the Book of Canons. Very right, according to
the Heads of Prayer laid down in the Canon, but not according to the very Words of
it, but to the fame effect, or, as in the Latin, in hunc aut fimilem modum, in this or
the like manner, and as briefly as you may conveniently. You are to pray after the fol-
lowing Manner, or fomething like the following Manner, and you are to be as ſhort
as you
well may; by which 'tis evident, that you are at Liberty to take your own
Way, and to uſe your own Words, if you preferve the Heads and Subſtance of the
Form, and do it with a reaſonable Concifeness. In the Injunctions of Henry, Edward,
and Elizabeth, concerning Prayers before Preaching, there was nothing faid of the
Miniſter's moving the People to join with him in Prayer; nothing faid of ---- according
to this Form, or to this Effect, or after this or the like Manner; nothing faid of conve-
nient Brevity, or Length of Prayer: But the Words were fet down juſt as they were
to be uſed. But in the Canon all theſe Particulars are mentioned, and are to be ob-
ferved:
752
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
ſerved: The Miniſter is to pray himſelf; and he is to do it in fome fuch Method as
this propoſed; and his Prayer muft not be over long. Theſe things make ſome con-
fiderable Difference betwixt the Injunctions and the Canon, and it will better appear
by looking over the Latin as well as the English.
The laſt Authority that I will add, fhall be of the Bishop of Lincoln in 1641, John
Williams.
"Do you know of any Parfons, Vicars, or Curates, that never pray before the
"Sermon, but bid the People pray?...
The Inference from hence is plainly this, that according to the Bifhop's Judg-
ment, a Miniſter was not thought to pray before his Sermon, who only bid the People
pray; or who uſed thofe Words, Ye shall pray. And will it not from hence follow,
that if this Biſhop, or any other Biſhop, ſhould aſk a Clergyman, whether, before
his Sermon, he prayed for the Church, or King, or Archbishop, &c. he did not mean
to know by the Anfwer, whether the Miniſter did himself pray for thoſe Particulars,
or only bid the People pray for them?
And thus I think I have done what I promiſed you, in fhewing there is greater
Concurrence of Authority, for turning the Subftance of the Canon into a Prayer,
than for ufing the very Words of the Canon in the Form there laid down, by bidding
the People pray: And I cannot help thinking, that whoever will confider thoroughly
the Preface and the Title, which is in Latin, Precationis Formula a Concionatoribus
(not fequenda, nor repetenda, nor ufurpanda, but) imitanda, will conclude as I do,
That the Clergy were left at Liberty to compofe a Prayer of their own, before their Ser-
mons, only taking care to pray for the King with his proper Stiles and Titles, and for
every other particular Perfon, Body, or Thing, prefcribed in the Canon, with all con-
venient Brevity, and concluding all with the Lord's Prayer.
But though I think that this is clear, to a Demonſtration, yet the Liberty I would
adviſe you to take, is only to turn the Canon into a Prayer, by faying, LET US
PRAY, inſtead of Ye shall pray: And fince this little Variation anſwers the Purpoſe
and Intention of the Canon in all Points; fince it makes good Senfe, and good Eng-
liſh; and fince it is juſtified by ſo many great Biſhops, and by a conftant Practice
I am of the Opinion, that nothing reaſonable, or worthy of Confideration, can be
objected to it, but what may very eaſily be anfwer'd. However, fuch Objections as
they are, I will give you my Opinion of them, in as few Words as I can.
And Firſt: A Pulpit-Prayer is faid to be virtually excluded by Acts of Parliament,
2d and 3d Edw. VI. and 1ft Eliz.
•
In theſe Acts the Clergy are faid to be commanded---" to ſay and uſe the Mattins,
Even-Song, and Adminiſtration of each of the Sacraments, and all other common
«and open Prayer, in ſuch Order and Form as is mentioned in the fame Book, (i. e.
"the Book of Common Prayer) and none otherwiſe; and if any fhall refuſe to
"ufe the faid Common Prayers, or to minifter the faid Sacraments, in fuch
"Order and Form, as they be mention'd and ſet forth in the ſaid Book, or ſhall uſe,
" wilfully and obftinately ſtanding in the fame, any other Rite, Ceremony, Order,
Form, or Manner of Mattins, Even-Song, Adminiſtration of Sacraments, or other
open Prayer than is mention'd and ſet forth in the faid Book, ſhall for the firſt
"Offence, &c.
<<
<c
''
Open Prayer, in and throughout this Act, is meant "Prayer which is for others
"to come unto, or hear either in common Churches or private Chapels, or Ora-
tories, commonly called, the Service of the Church.
66
From
as directed by the LVth CANON.
753
From this Explanation of what is meant by Open Prayer, in theſe Acts, it is
fuppofed by fome, that a Pulpit Prayer may be called an Open Publick Prayer in a
Common Church, for others to come unto, or hear, and is confequently forbidden
to be uſed.
But if by Open Prayer be only meant the Common Prayer, or Service of the Church,
(as the Act explains itſelf) or every Office contained in the Book of Common Prayer,
fuch as Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer, the Litany, the Office of Baptifm, the Com-
munion Service, the Office of Matrimony, Vifitation of the Sick, and Burial Office: If
every Office contained in the Book of Common Prayer be meant by Open Prayer,
and nothing elſe meant thereby in theſe Acts, then this Objection is nothing worth.
Now it is but reading the Act to be convinced, that nothing elſe is meant thereby.
Open Prayer in and throughout this Act, is meant Prayer which is for others to
come to, (as it is diftinguished from Private Prayer) commonly called, the Service of
the Church.
Again,----The Clergy are to fay or uſe the Mattins, Even-Song, and Adminiſtra-
tion of each of the Sacraments, and all other Common and Open Prayer, (i.e. any other
Office or Service) in fuch Order and Form as is mentioned in the fame Book, and none
otherwife. Is it not manifeft from thence, that Open Prayer is that which is men-
tioned in the Book of Common Prayer? and therefore is fome Service or other that
is appointed in that Book.
་་
So again: "If any one fhall compel, or cauſe, or otherwife procure or main-
"tain any Parſon, Vicar, or other Miniſter, in any Cathedral or Pariſh Church, or
Chapel, or any other Place, to fing, or fay, any Common and Open Prayer, or
"to Miniſter any Sacrament otherwife, or in any other Manner or Form than is
" mentioned in the faid Book; or that by any means fhall unlawfully interrupt, or
"let any Parfon, Vicar, or other Minifter in any Cathedral, Parish Church, or
Chapel, to fing, or fay, Common and Open Prayer, or to minifter the Sacraments,
or any
of them, in fuch Manner and Form as is mention'd in the faid Book:
"That then, &c.
6C
6c
From all theſe Places, and from all others, where mention is made of Open Prayer
in theſe Acts of Parliament, nothing is meant thereby but fome Office, or part of the
Publick Service, contained in the Book of Common Prayer: And the Purpoſe of
the whole Act, 2d and 3d Edw. VI. and 1ſt Eliz. is to confirm the Book of Com-
mon Prayer, and to tell the Subjects, that no other Morning Service, or Evening
Service, no other Office of Baptifm, of the Communion, of Matrimony, Vifitation of
Sick, or Office of Burial, is to be uſed by any Clergymen, in any Church, or Chapel,
or other Place appointed for the publick Worſhip, but thofe Offices or Services which
are appointed for thoſe Purpoſes in the Book of Common Prayer. And this is manifeſt
from the Preface or Preamble of the 2d and 3d Edw. VI.
ce
CC
Where of long time there hath been had, in this Realm of England and in
« Wales, divers Forms of Common Prayer, commonly called the Service of the
«Church; that is to ſay, the Uſe of Sarum, of York, of Bangor, and of Lincoln,
" and befides the fame now of late, much more divers and fundry Forms and
Faſhions have been uſed in the Cathedral and Pariſh Churches of England and
Wales, as well concerning the Mattins or Morning Prayer, and the Even-Song,
"as concerning the Holy Communion, &c." The King had now appointed one uni-
form Order to be uſed by all Miniſters, and no other, under fuch and fuch Penalties,
&c. But to put it out of all doubt, read the Proviſions that are made. "V. And it
"ſhall be lawful to have the faid Prayers heretofore fpecified of Mattin and Even-
Song, in Latin or any fuch other Tongue, faying the fame privately, as they do
" underſtand. VI. And for the farther Encouragement of Learning in the Tongues,
4 S f
cc
" in
754
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
" in the Univerſities of Cambridge and Oxford, to uſe and exerciſe, in their Com-
"mon and Open Prayer, in their Chapels, (being no Parish Churches) or other
"Places of Prayer, the Mattins, Even-Song, Litany, and all other Prayers (the
Holy Communion excepted) preſcribed in the faid Book, in Greek, Latin, or
"Hebrew.
<c
Nothing can poffibly be more evident from hence, than that nothing is call'd Open
Prayer, but what is contained and preſcribed in the Book of Common Prayer: And
this the Scholars have leave to tranflate and uſe in what Language they pleaſe, except
the Communion-Service, which must be in English.
re
" VII. Provided alſo, that it ſhall be lawful for all Men, as well in Churches,
Chapels, Oratories, or other Places, to ufe openly any Pfalms, or Prayer, taken
"out of the Bible at any due Time, not letting or omitting thereby the Service, or
any Part thereof, mentioned in the faid Book.
''
This laſt Proviſion might with more Reaſon be urged in Juftification of Pulpit-
Prayers, provided the Miniſter take care to uſe Scripture-Expreffion, than any Part
of the Act can be urged againſt them; but I dare fay, the Act intended nothing on
either fide of the Queftion. There is much the fame Prohibition in the Scotish
Canons, (as I find it in Dr. Heylin's Life of Archbishop Laud, p. 300.) "XV. That
"no Presbyter, or Reader, be permitted to conceive Prayers Extempore, or uſe any
"other Form in the publick Liturgy or Service, than is preſcribed, under Pain of
Deprivation from his Benefice or Cure." Whenever therefore you hear of Acts of
Parliament that are urged againſt Pulpit-Prayers, do but turn to thoſe Acts, and
read them carefully, and you will find they fay nothing to the purpoſe for which
they are cited; and that by Open Prayer to underſtand a Pulpit-Prayer, becauſe it
is open to all Comers and Hearers, is, in truth, not to read the Acts with Under-
ſtanding, but to play with the Ambiguity of Words.
""
Another Objection againſt Pulpit-Prayers is, the Ufeleffneſs, Unfeaſonableneſs,
and indeed the Impertinence of them, after we are just come from performing the
full Service of Morning or Evening-Prayer, and nothing intervening but finging a
fhort Pfalm. To this Objection I make no other Anfwer, but that I think in my
Confcience, 'tis full as ufelefs, as unfeaſonable, and as impertinent, to tell the People
for what Things, and for what Perſons they are to pray, after they have juſt finiſhed
their Morning or Evening-Service, as it is for the Miniſter to bid the People join with
him in Prayer for thoſe particular Things and Perfons mention'd in the Canon.
And therefore let thoſe People who railly never ſo pleaſantly, and thoſe who never ſo
tragically exclaim againſt the Pulpit-Prayer, as uſeleſs and impertinent, confider
whether what they fay does not as much affect the Bidding Prayer, as the making a
Prayer of equal Brevity, fuch as the Canon exprefly requires, Summariâ (quantum
licet) brevitate. And if it be faid, that the King's Titles muſt be recognized before
the Sermon, which is not done in either Morning or Evening-Prayer, I ſay ſo too;
but I ſtill ſay, it is no more impertinent to recognize them in a Formal Prayer, than
in Bidding of Prayer.
Another Objection againſt Pulpit-Prayers is, the conſtant Practice of the Univer-
fity of Cambridge, in Favour of Bidding Prayer, according to the Letter of the
Canon. And the ſhort Anſwer to this might be, that it has not been, nor is, the
conſtant Practice of the University of Oxford, always Orthodox, always Canonical!
But fince theſe kind of Anſwers do rather filence than convince, what if I fhould
venture to affirm, that Eight in Ten of thoſe who in Cambridge are for the Bidding
Prayers, do, when they remove from thence, either turn the Canon into a Prayer,
or make a Prayer of their own, before Sermon ? Is it becauſe they quite forget the
Canon, or neglect it, when they leave their Colleges? Or do they read and underſtand
it
as directed by the LVth CANO N.
755
it differently when they come to London, or their Parish Churches, from what they
did whilſt in the University? The Truth, I believe, is, that in each Place they are
governed by Custom and Example; in Cambridge they hear of nothing but Bidding of
Prayer; in other Places it is cuftomary to pray before the Sermon: But I do not hear
that they fo far complement their University-Judgment, as to prefer it before their
Town-Judgment, or think they were better Obfervers of the Canon heretofore, than
they are now. In the University, People's Heads may be fubtil and diſtinguiſhing
enough, to call the LVth Canon "A Form of Prayer, merely becauſe of the Lord's
Prayer, which is at the end of it, and with which all Minifters are obliged to con-
"clude, and in which they are fuppofed to pray for all things mentioned in the
"Canon, as may be gathered from the Form uſed by Biſhop Latimer, Biſhop Gun-
ning, Archbishop Sancroft, and many others, who go off from the Bidding Prayer,
"to the Lord's Prayer, with Words to this Purpoſe,----For all theſe things now
" mention'd, ye fhall fay,----Our Father, &c.
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But when People come out of the University, into the World, they ſeem to talk a
little plainer, and to require fome better Proof of the LVth Canon's being a Form of
Prayer, than merely becauſe it ends with the Lord's Prayer. The Lord's Prayer can
make nothing to be a Form of Prayer, that is not fo without it; it is a moft bleffed
Adjunct, but it changes not the Nature of what it is joined to; and though it is a
moft comprehenfive Prayer, and that in the ufing it we are underſtood to pray (as
our Catechiſm does admirably well explain it) for all things needful both to the Soul
and Body; yet neither Injunction, nor Canon would ever truſt the King's Titles, nor
thofe of Archbishops, to the Lord's Prayer, but mentions them exprefly, and as ex-
prefly requires them to be prayed for by Name, and that too, long before they come
to conclude with the Lord's Prayer. So that it is not the Lord's Prayer that makes
the LVth Canon to be a Form of Prayer. The Title of it is --- The Form of a Prayer,
but it is not of itſelf a Prayer, 'till the Miniſter make it fo, by turning the Subftance
of
into a Prayer, and then moving the People to join with him in it.
Ye shall
pray (fays the Miniſter to the People) for Chrift's Holy Catholick Church, &c. But
is this all? No certainly; the Canon fays, The Minifters fhall move the People to join
with them (Minifters) in Prayer for Chrift's Holy Catholick Church, &c. And now let
the Miniſters ſee how this can be done without their praying for Chrift's Holy Catho-
lick Church, &c. The Injunctions of Henry, Edward, and Elizabeth, did none of
them (as I have before obferv'd) command the Miniſter, in exprefs Words, to join in
Prayer with the People, but only to bid the People pray; but yet the Reaſon of the
thing often conſtrain'd them to do it, without Command. So Biſhop Latimer ;---I
pray you all to pray with me to God, &c. And ſo again,----I pray you to help me with
your Prayers, &c. And fo Biſhop Gardiner,----I (hall defire you all, that we may
jointly pray all together for, &c. But this the Canon of 1603 exprefly requires of the
Miniſter; and indeed without his making himſelf a Party in the Prayer, it is a vain
thing to command him (as the Preface plainly doth) to move the People to join with
him in praying for, &c. As to Biſhop Gunning, I can make no Anfwer to it, having
feen his Vifitation-Articles only, but none of his Prayers. But fince the Authority of
Archbishop Sancroft is cited on this Occafion, I have his Prayer by me, and am con-
tent that the Matter in Debate ſhould be wholly determined by it, and will therefore
tranfcribe it, make fome few Obfervations on it, and leave it to your Judgment.
CC
When he has divided his Text into three Heads, he ſays; "Theſe are the Parts,
[of which, that I may ſo ſpeak, and you ſo hear, and all of us fo remember, and
"fo practice, that God's Holy Name may be glorified, and we all built up in the
"Knowledge of the Truth, which is according unto Godliness, we beſeech God the
Father,
1
756
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
"Father, in the Name of his Son Jeſus Chriſt, to give us the Affiftance of his Holy
Spirit.]
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may agree in the Truth of
More eſpecially let us pray
[that the God of Peace, who
[And in theſe, and all other our Supplications] let us always remember to pray
"for Chrift's Holy Catholick Church, i. e. for the whole Congregation of Chriſtian
People, diſperſed throughout the whole World: [That it would pleaſe Almighty
"God to purge out of it all Schifm, Error, and Herefy, and to unite all Chriftians in
"one holy Bond of Faith and Charity; that ſo at length the happy Day may dawn
upon us, in which all that do confeſs his holy Name,
"his holy Word, and live in Unity and godly Love.]
" for the Churches of England, Scotland, and Ireland,
"maketh Men to be of one Mind in a Houfe, would make us all of one Soul and
"of one Spirit, that again we may meet together and praiſe him with one Heart and
Mouth, and worſhip him with one accord, in the Beauty of Holiness.] To this
"end I am to require you moſt eſpecially to pray for the King's moft Excellent Ma-
jefty, our Sovereign Lord Charles, by the Grace of God, King of England, Scot-
land, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and Supreme Governor in theſe
"his Realms, and in all other his Dominions and Countries, over all Perfons, in all
"Cauſes, as well Ecclefiaftical as Temporal; [that God would eſtabliſh his Throne
"in Righteouſneſs, and his Seed to all Generations.] Alfo for our Gracious Lady
Mary, the Queen Mother; for the moſt illuftrious Prince James, Duke of York,
"and for the whole Royal Family, [that God would take them all into his Care,
" and make them the Inftruments of his Glory, and the Good and Welfare of theſe
Nations.] Farther, let us pray for the Miniſters of God's holy Word and Sacra-
ments, as well Archbiſhops and Biſhops as other Paftors and Curates; for the Lords,
" and others of his Majeſty's moſt Honourable Council, and for all the Nobility and
Magiſtrates of the Realm; that all and every of theſe, in their ſeveral Callings,
<< may ferve truly and painfully to the Glory of God, and the edifying and well
"verning of his People, remembring the Account that they muſt make. [Let us al-
"fo pray for the Universities of this Land, Cambridge and Oxford, that God would
"water them with his Grace, and ſtill continue them the Nurſeries of Religion and
Learning to the whole Land.] Let us pray for the whole Commons of this Realm;
[that remembring at laſt from whence they are fallen, they may repent, and do the
"firſt Works,] living henceforth in Faith and Fear of God, in humble Obedience
"to their King, and in brotherly Charity one to another. Finally, let us praiſe
"God for all thoſe that are already departed out of this Life, in the Faith of Chriſt;
"and pray unto God we may have Grace to direct our Lives after their good Exam-
ples; that this Life ended, we may be made Partakers with them of the glorious
Refurrection, in the Life everlaſting. For which, and for all other needful Blef-
fings, let us fay together the Prayer of our Lord, who hath taught us to fay, ----
"Our Father, &c.
<<
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go-
This is the Prayer of William Sancroft, B. D. Decem. 2. 1660, before his Sermon
preached at the Confecration of feven Biſhops, of which Biſhop Cozens was one, whofe
Chaplain he then was: He afterwards became Dean of St. Paul's, and Archbiſhop of
Canterbury; but I did not think his Authority would ever be brought, in favour of
Bidding Prayer; for as you fee, he does not adhere to the Letter of the Canon, nor
uſe the Words, Pray ye, or, You ſhall pray, but roundly turns the Canon into a
Prayer, and then, with good Senſe and Propriety, he moves the People (as the Ca-
non bids him) to join with him in praying for, &c. And tho' he once fays, ---- I am
to require you, moſt eſpecially, to pray for the King's most excellent Majesty, yet
having made himſelf a Party before in every fingle Petition, as well as in all that fol-
lows, 'tis plain that he alſo effectually joins in praying for the King, in moſt eſpecial
Manner;
î
as directed by the LVth CAN Ó N.
757
1
!
Manner; and no Man can think otherwiſe of him, than that he prays himself for the
King, as well as defires the People to do ſo, if he will confider the whole together.
Let but the Miniſter ufe the first Perfon plural, at the beginning of his Prayer, and
move the People to pray with him, and tho' he ſhould afterwards flip into Ye fhall,
it will be taken for granted that he joins in Prayer with the Congregation, and they
with him.
Another thing obfervable in Archbishop Sancroft is, that altho' he takes in almoft
every Word of the Canon into his Prayer, yet he adds very near as much more of his
own compofing to it, (which I have diftinguiſhed by this [ ] Mark) and yet I do not
believe he has offended one Jot againſt the Canon in fo doing, that Rule eſpecially,---As
briefly as conveniently they may, for I do not find a Word impertinent therein. But
it is no great Matter what I think; I will leave it to you, or any indifferent Perſon
elfe, to judge whether the Preacher himſelf believed he offended againſt the LVth Ca-
non, in making this Prayer before his Sermon. You may be confident he had the Ca-
non before his Eyes, for he tranſcribes it almoſt every Word. You are fure in the next
Place, that he turns it into a Prayer; and as to the Form, he copies exactly from the
Canon, he infifts upon every Head mentioned therein according to the Order and
Method there fet down, for the Catholick Church, the Churches of England, Scotland,
and Ireland, for the King as Supreme, the Royal Family, the Clergy, Nobility, Magi-
tracy, and Commonalty of the Realm, &c. And laftly, he does it with all convenient
Brevity; his Words are pertinent, fignificant, and few. He has, in ſhort, obſerved
the three Rules mentioned in the Preface, as exactly as any Man could wiſh, i.e.
(1.) To pray: (2.) To pray in the like Form with that prefcribed: And (3.) To pray
with a reaſonable Concifenefs. And he who carefully obferves theſe three Rules, in
making his Prayer before Sermon, fhall certainly hit the Mind and Purpofe of thofe
who made the Canon; for if they had not intended a Prayer, what needed the Title
to be, The Form of a Prayer? Why did they bid the Minifter move the People to
join with him in Prayer? And if they indeed intended this Form, and no other, why
did they add,----or to this Effect,--- in hunc aut fimilem Modum, after this or the like
Manner? And lastly, if they intended the very Words of the Canon, and no other,
to be uſed, how abfurd was it to add, ---- as briefly as conveniently they may, Sum-
mariâ '(quantum licet) brevitate? For an unalterable Number can neither be more
nor leſs than it now is; nor a Form of Prayer, from which Men muſt not vary, be
either longer or fhorter than is fet down; as is before obferved.
Another Objection is, that if any Liberty be allowed to vary from the Words of
the Canon, the Men of Vanity, Conceitedneſs, and Indiſcretion, of warm Heads,
and voluble Tongues, will run into all Extravagance, make lamentable Work of it,
and vent the Folly that comes uppermoft, without Controul. The Anfwer to this is,
that there is no Help for it; no Caution is fufficient to guard againſt all Inconvenien-
cies. The Canon does allow fome Liberty, and difcreet Men will ufe it well, and the
indiſcreet will certainly abuſe it; and the fame Objection lies againſt Preaching, as
well as Praying; and no Limitations or Reftraints can poffibly prevent a vain and in-
diſcreet Preacher, from venting vain, falfe, and indiſcreet Matter, let the Rules pre-
fcribed to him be never fo good and reaſonable. Let a Man (as I faid above) but
carefully obferve the Rules prefcribed him in the Canon, in compofing his Prayer be-
fore Sermon, and there will be no place for this Objection: 'Tis the Neglect of theſe
Rules that occafions all the Miſchiefs that proceed from the Abuſe of Pulpit-Prayers.
Of this I will give you a Proof beyond Exception, and it is, The Prayer for the
whole State of Chrift's Church militant here on Earth; which is, in good Truth, but
the Subſtance of the Canon turned into a Prayer, by a moft difcreet and careful Hand;
and if the King's Title of Supreme Head had been added to his Name, in this Ad-
4 T t
drefs
758
A Defence of Praying before Sermon,
drefs to God, it had not been at all improper, nor made it lefs a Prayer than it now
is. And if the Wiſdom of our Governors had appointed this for the Form of Prayer
before Sermons, I wonder who would have been diſpleaſed, or would have exchanged
it for an Injunction to Bid Prayers. But fince it is ordered otherwiſe, the next thing
moſt deſirable is, that a Prayer, as near to this as the Words of the Canon will ad-
mit, ſhould be compoſed, or that the Words, Ye shall, ſhould be changed into the
more comprehenfive ones, and much more proper ones, Let us pray.
The laſt Objection is, that if the Convocation in 1603 had intended a formal Prayer
before Sermon, they could and would have ordered it fo, and not have worded the
Canon as they have done, to leave it under any Doubt. The Anſwer to this is,---
That the Preachers had been accuftom'd to this Way of Bidding Prayers, between
fixty and ſeventy Years, by the Injunctions of Henry VIII. Edward VI. and Queen
Elizabeth, and the Injunction of the laſt had been in ufe for forty-four Years; and
'tis very probable that every ſingle Man in the Convocation there prefent, had either
uſed that Form of Words, or made a Prayer of them with little Variation; and
therefore 'tis no Wonder that they readily took in the Injunction, and turned it into a
Canon, without any great Alteration, and without much Confideration (in my Opi-
nion) how confiftent it would be with the Title and the Preface which they intended
to put, and did actually put to it. The Title to King Edward's Injunction was, The
Form of Bidding the Common Prayers, i. e. the Prayers which the People were to
make, You ſhall pray for, &c. And this Title was very proper, for the Preacher
did bid the People pray, and told them for whom and what they were to pray. So was
the Title to Queen Elizabeth's Injunction,--- The Form of Bidding the Prayers to be used
generally in this uniform Sort: And this was alſo very proper and ſuitable to what fol-
lowed, Ye shall pray for, &c. And if the Convocation in 1603 had made uſe of, and
preſerved the fame Title, as they made uſe of the fame Injunction of Elizabeth, almoſt
Word for Word, there would have been no more Doubt how the Canon was to be
complied with, than there was about the Injunction. But when the Convocation
fixes a very folemn Title to the Canon, The Form of a Prayer to be used by Preach-
ers before their Sermons, Who that reads no farther, would not expect a Prayer
fhould follow? And who that reads the Title in Latin, ------ Precationis Formula
a Concionatoribus, in Concionum fuarum Ingreffu, imitanda, would not expect to find a
Form of Prayer fet down, which the Preacher muſt uſe, or make one like it? And
who can read the Preface of the Canon, either in Latin or Engliſh, who does not na-
turally expect the Minifter himſelf ſhould uſe fome Form of Prayer, in which he is to
move the People to join with him? To reconcile the Canon therefore with its Title and
its Preface, there ought to be a Prayer, in which the Miniſter is to be included and
concerned, and in this Prayer he is to pray for the Particulars mention'd in the Canon
with their proper Titles; and this is to be done with all convenient Brevity; and in
this Prayer the People are to be moved to join, and go along with him, in their
Minds: And lastly, this Prayer is to be concluded and ſhut up with the Lord's Prayer.
Now the ſhorteſt and moſt unexceptionable Way of doing this, is, by turning the
Canon into a Prayer, by ſaying, Let us pray, inſtead of, Ye shall pray, which is
what I adviſe you to do; tho' I dare fay, you fee the Canon gives you much more Li-
berty, if there be any Senfe in either its Title or its Preface, as you will certainly con-
clude there ought to be, when you remember who they were that made them. And
indeed, I am fo reaſonably affured of this Liberty, that were you not juſt now entring
upon the Miniſtry, and confequently not accuſtomed to any Form of your own com-
pofing, or of any other's, I ſhould have left you free, to have taken what Courſe you
ſhould have thought beft, provided you had obſerved the Rules preſcribed in the Ca-
non, with reſpect to the Perfons, Titles, and the Time, againſt which I think your
good
as directed by the LVth CANO N.
759
good Senfe would have kept you from offending. But, it may be, I ſhall not be
thought to have anſwered this laſt Objection thoroughly, without confidering what
was done in the Convocation, in 1640, as it is repreſented by Dr. Heylin, in the Life
of Archbishop Laud, p. 442.
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હૂં
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Many had taken Exception againſt the tying up of Preachers to the Form of
Prayer, appointed to be uſed before their Sermons, Canon LV; for whofe Relief
therein, a ſhort Prayer was drawn, containing all the Heads of that in the Canon;
" and being fo drawn up, it was to have been tendred by the Hands of one of the
Clergy, who would have undertaken, that it ſhould be univerfally receiv'd by all
"thoſe which difliked the others: But the Archbishop chofe rather to adhere to the
"Canon, than venture on any new Experiment; that Canon being founded on the
Injunctions of Queen Elizabeth, and King Edward VI, at the first Reformation;
" and fo the Impofition fell, without meeting farther.
CC
This (faith old Dr. Richard Sherlock) evinceth fufficiently the faid Canon to be no
Prayer; nor yet lawfully to be altered and ufed Prayer-wife. That the Canon is not,
as it ftands worded, itſelf a Prayer, is evinced fufficiently from the Convocation's or-
dering a Prayer to be made out of it, comprizing all the Heads of the Canon, in fhort:
But, that fuch a Prayer as this (fuppofing it well made) might not lawfully be uſed
by the Preacher before his Sermon, is by no means fufficiently evinced from the Arch-
biſhop's chufing rather to adhere to the Canon, than to venture on any new Experi-
ment; nor is the letting fall this Propofition, to be look'd upon as a Determination
of the Clergy in the Cafe of Pulpit-Prayer. Whoever confiders the troubleſome
Times, the evil Difpofition of People's Minds, and the fad Circumftances with which
the Archbiſhop was then furrounded, will fee more Cauſe to wonder that he ven-
tur'd upon any thing, in Convocation, than that he did no more.
He made too
many new Experiments in that unfortunate Affembly, by every one he made; and
had he made a Hundred more, not one of them would have been well taken at his
Hands, he was at that Time fo unpopular. I know not that a Prayer from Heaven
would, in that national religious Frenzy, have gone down with our diftemper'd
Lecturers and People, or would not have been thought a Stinting of the Spirit. And
indeed, the preſcribing a certain Form of Prayer to be uſed by all Preachers before
their Sermons, is undoubtedly a ftricter Limitation and Reſtriction, than the Canon
itſelf is; for in the Prayer, the very Words to be uſed are preſcribed; whereas the
Canon, as Dr. Heylin himſelf obſerves, leaves Men at liberty to uſe their own Words;
----It was not, he ſays, p. 152. the Church's purpoſe to bind her Minifters precifely to
the Words which are there (i. e. in the Canon) laid down, but that in that very Form
of Words, or other Words to that Effect, they &c. The Refufal therefore of the Arch-
biſhop to admit the Canon thus turned into a Prayer, at this time, is, in my Opi-
nion, a Proof of nothing, but that he thought it was unfeafonable. He might more-
over find ſome Fault in the Compofition, and think it was not well altered: He
might diſlike the Parties employ'd in it: He might think it better to leave People
to uſe their own Difcretion, than to confine them to another's Words. He might,
in ſhort, have ſeveral Reaſons to reject the Form offered, of which we know nothing,
without once thinking that it was unlawful to alter the Words of the Canon, or to
turn it into a Prayer: Nor can any one form a reaſonable Judgment from hence, that
the Clergy thought a Pulpit-Prayer unlawful, or not fit to be uſed, becaufe this Pro-
pofal of turning the Canon into a Prayer, did not fucceed in the Convocation. They
muſt be great Strangers to the Methods of proceeding in Convocation, that conclude
what the general Judgment of thoſe Bodies is, from the Miſcarriage of this or that
Order, Motion, or Refolution made by them. It happens, I doubt, in theſe Affem-
blies, as it does in all others, equally numerous, that Chance and Humour make as
many
760
A Defence of Praying before Sermon, &c.
many
Determinations for and againft, as either Reafon or Judgment does. In 1640,
the Archbiſhop did not like the Canon when turned into a Prayer, though other
People did; and fo the Propofal fell: But in 1661, the Propofal was again reviv'd,
and for ought appears, was readily receiv'd; but yet we find no Iffue of it. You
ſhall have the Obfervation, as it ftands in the Firſt Volume of my Lord Biſhop of
Lincoln's moſt excellent and uſeful Codex Juris Ecclef. p. 381.
"In the Year 1661, is this Entry in the Journal of the Upper-Houſe of Convoca-
"tion;* Reverendi Patres unanimi Confenfu & Affenfu in votis dederunt, pro unica
« Forma Precum tam ante quam poft Sermonem, five Orationem prædicatam, ufitanda
"&obfervanda, per Miniftros intra Provinciam Cant. And that this Order was
purſued in Convocation, (though not to Effect) appears from the Minutes of the
"Lower-Houſe, where, Jan. 31, we find a Committee appointed for this (among
"other Purpoſes) to compile a Prayer before Sermon.
re
Here we ſee the Biſhops unanimouſly vote for a ſtated Prayer before and after Ser-
mons, and the Lower-Houſe appoint a Committee to compile a Prayer before (leav-
ing out after) Sermon; but nothing came of it; this Defign, like a great many others,
fell, without any Reaſon that we know of. The Debates that were held betwixt the
Epiſcopal and Preſbyterian Divines in the Savoy, were for and againſt private Per-
fons taking Liberty to make private Prayers of their own, before and after Sermons;
which a ſtated Prayer appointed by the Convocation would certainly have prevented,
and anſwered all Objections: And how it came to miſcarry I know not: I am only
concerned under this Head, to affirm, that this Miſcarriage ought not to be confidered
as a Determination of the Clergy, in favour of the Canon, or againſt a Pulpit-Prayer,
fince moſt of the Clergy here concerned did certainly ufe a Pulpit-Prayer, before their
Sermons, of which I might give a great many Inſtances, if it were neceffary; but I have
hitherto kept within 1604, and 1660, except in the Caſe of Archbishop Sancroft, to
which I was called, as above: And I would not have mentioned Biſhop Hacket, tho'
one that always uſed a Pulpit-Prayer, if it were not to correct a Miſtake or two of
Dr. Plume in his Life of that Biſhop: "Bidding of Prayer before Sermon, he (i. e.
Biſhop Hacket) never uſed, and ſaid, no more did Dr. Ravis, and Dr. Fletcher,
"Archbishop Whitgift's Chaplains, afterwards Biſhops of London, who drew up the
"LVth Canon, whom he knew very well, and often heard preach, and always uſed
"a Form of their own.
<<
That Dr. Hacket never practiſed Bidding of Prayer, may be very true; and it
may be alſo true, that Dr. Ravis and Dr. Fletcher uſed a Form of their own; but it
cannot be true that Dr. Hacket had often heard Dr. Fletcher pray, for he was but
four Years old when Biſhop Fletcher died, which was in 1596, and he was but ſeven-
teen when Biſhop Ravis died, in 1609; but I dare ſay, that if he ſaid he had heard
fo of both, he ſaid true. Dr. Ravis might be in the Convocation in 1604, but Flet-
cher was dead long before that Time, and confequently could have no hand in turning
the Queen's Injunction into a Canon, adding a Preface to it, and a Title, which occa-
fions you and myſelf the Trouble of this long Anſwer to a ſhort Queſtion, which will,
I think, not only give you full Satisfaction in the Point before you, but may alſo ſerve
for a Defence (if it be wanted) of the Practice of the greateft part of the Clergy of the
Church of England.
* Seff. IV. Dec. 9.
A SERMON
761
A
SER MON
UPON
SWEARING.
EXOD. Chap. XX. Ver. 7.
Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the
Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
T were good, that you ſhould often read the xixth Chapter of Exodus, to ſee with
what a dreadful Solemnity the Ten Commandments were delivered by God to
Mofes from Mount Sinai. v. 16. It came to pass on the third day, in the morning,
that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the
voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; fo that all the people that was in the camp trembled.
And Moſes brought forth the people out of the camp, to meet with God, and they ſtood at
the nether part of the mount. And mount Sinai was altogether on a fmoak, because the
Lord defcended upon it in fire; and the Smoak thereof afcended as the fmoak of a fur-
nace; and the whole mount quaked greatly. This was a Sight fo terrible, that Mofes
himſelf ſaid (Heb. xii. 21.) I exceedingly fear and quake: And for the People, they
when they faw the Fire, the Blackneſs, Darkneſs, and the Tempeft, and heard the
Thunder, Trumpet, and the Voice of God ---- removed and flood afar off, and faid to
Mofes, Speak thou with us, and we will hear; but let not God ſpeak with us, left we die.
The Words which God fpake, with this amazing dreadful Preparation, were the Ten
Commandments. Do you therefore think theſe Words were Words to be neglected,
or forgotten? I have repeated a few of theſe Faffages, that what I am going to fay
may make the deeper Impreffion on your Minds.
-
The Words of the Text are part of that Divine Law, that God himſelf uttered,
with all thofe awful Circumftances, before rehearfed: They make up, you know,
the Third Commandment. Imagine therefore that you heard the Voice of God, pro-
claiming loud in all your Ears, from the midft of glorious and yet dreadful Fire
and Smoak, Lightning, Thunder, and the Sound of Trumpets Thou shalt not
take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltleſs,
that taketh his name in vain----Imagine this, and fee, if it is like to be fo cheap a
thing, in the Conclufion, to profane the facred Name of God, by Oaths and Curſes,
Blafphemies, and dreadful Execrations, as is the common Practice now-a-days to do,
on every flight and frivolous Occafion.
To preſerve thoſe who are innocent, and to reclaim thofe who are guilty of this
wicked Practice, I intend, in the firft Place, to confider the Words of the Text, and
next, to make uſe of ſuch Reaſons, and Arguments, as I think proper to diffuade
from it.
To take the name of God in vain, is, in the firſt and literal Senſe, to uſe the facred
Name of God lightly and commonly, to vain and idle Purpoſes, when it is need-
lefs and infignificant, although we do not fwear by it, or call him to witneſs to the
4 Uu
Truth
762
A SERMON upon Swearing.
1
Truth of what we ſay. To have that Name often in our Mouths, upon every little
poor Occafion, is to make it cheap and deſpicable, and fhews we have not that awful
Reſpect for him in our Hearts, that we ſhould have: This is the beginning of Evil,
and generally prepares the way to Swearing: People do not fall to downright Oaths
at firſt, but begin to wear off the Fear and Dread of Swearing, by the little Abuſes
and Profanations of the Name of God; and then they venture by degrees to fwear
by it. Theſe Miſchiefs come by Cuſtom and Habit; and therefore you muſt take
good heed at firſt, and ſtop your Children and young People, from uſing the Name
of God familiarly and commonly, and upon all occafions; and that will beget a
Reverence to it, and keep them from farther abufing it. Remember to check and
puniſh them, if you hear them call on God, either at their Play, or Work, or on
any occaſion but what is ſerious and becoming; and by doing this conftantly, you
will ſtop up one of the commoneft Inlets to this wicked Practice; you will make
them careful of what they fay, and do yourſelves a great deal of good by it. Your
doing your Duty to your Children and Servants in this Point, will put you in mind
of your own Neglects and Failings; you will, in time, be aſhamed of reminding
them of taking the Name of God in vain, when you yourſelves are guilty of it, and
have fet them a bad Example. I wish that the frequent Practice of abufing the
Name of God, in Parents and Maſters and Miftreffes, be not often the occafion of
Children and Servants falling into the like; and often the Reaſon, why thofe Parents,
Maſters and Miſtreffes, will not, or dare not, reprove and puniſh their Children and
Servants for ſo offending. And pray confider, what an evil paſs thoſe poor People
are brought to, that dare not do their Duty to their Children and Servants, when
yet they ſhall be puniſhed forely by God for not doing it. I would they would think
better on this Matter; and though they are exceeding faulty in this Point them-
felves, yet they would ſtill reprove and puniſh thoſe who are under their Care for
the like Offences; they would do but their Duty, prevent a great deal of Miſchief,
and fave the being guilty of other People's Sins.
But to take the name of God in vain, is moſt properly, to Swear, either rafhly,
without juſt and weighty Occafions, without Heed and Reverence, or falsely, with-
out regard to Truth, and to what our Confcience tells us; either without knowing
what we fay to be true, or knowing that what we ſay is not true.
First, of Swearing lightly or rafhly, the Commandment is, thou shalt not take the
name of the Lord thy God in vain. By which it fhould appear, that no Man can be
faid to Swear, that does not uſe the very Name of God in his Oath; this was an old
Miſtake, and yet continues very common amongſt us, and therefore muft needs be
removed, before I can go any further; for People have ſtill fancied, that if they do
not mention the facred Name of God, in their Affeverations, they are not to come
under the Guilt of taking God's Name in vain, altho' they Swear by any Thing, or
Creature, elſe. Our Saviour ſays, Matth. xxiii. 16. to the Scribes and Pharifees,
Woe to you, ye blind guides, which fay ---Whosoever ſhall fwear by the temple, it is
nothing; but whosoever ſhall ſwear by the gold of the temple, he is a debtor, i. e. he is
obliged to perform his Oath---- Ye fools and blind; for whether is greater, the gold, or
the temple that fanctifieth the gold? And whosoever shall fwear by the altar, it is no-
thing, but whosoever fweareth by the gift that is upon the altar, he is guilty----i. e.
guilty if he perform not that Oath: Ye fools and blind; for whether is greater, the
gift, or the altar that fanctifieth the gift? Whoso therefore (faith our Saviour, and
which is the Solution of what I propofe) shall fwear by the altar, fweareth by it, and
by all things thereon. And whofo fhall fwear by the temple, fweareth by it, and by him
that dwelleth therein. And he that fwears by heaven, fweareth by the throne of God,
and
A SERMON upon Swearing.
763
and by him that fitteth thereon -----Add to this, what he ſays in Matth. v. 34. But I
fay unto you, fwear not at all, i. e. in your common Converfation neither by bea-
ven, for it is God's throne----neither by the earth, for it is his footflool----neither by
Jerufalem, for it is the city of the great King ----neither shalt thou swear by thy head,
for thou canst not make one hair white or black. Add, I ſay, this to what is before
faid, and you will find, that the Relation every thing and Creature in the World
has to the great Creator of them all, is ſo cloſe and dependent, that it is affigned as
the Cauſe, why he who ſweareth by the one, ſhould be concluded to ſwear by the
other. He who fwears by the Altar, Offering, or the Temple, fwears by him to whom
that Altar is erected, to whom that Offering is offered, and to whom that Temple with
its Service is devoted---¿. e. to God. He who fwears by Heaven, fwears by him who
governs therein; he who fweareth by the Earth, fwears by him whofe Footstool it is,
and who made and preferves it. He who fwears by Jerufalem, fwears by him whofe
City it was, i. e. by the great God. He who fwears by his Head, which is as it
were the Fountain of Life, fwears by him who made that Head, and in whofe Hands
alone is the Power of Life and Death. This is a Demonſtration (in its kind)
that People may ſwear, without uſing the Name of God; and confequently may
offend againit this Commandment, without taking the Name of the Lord their God
in vain, in the literal Senfe. And therefore, pray remember, that you fatisfy not
yourſelves with any fuch idle Diſtinction; nor think you do not fwear, when you
do not pronounce the facred Name of God, tho' you ſwear by any thing elſe.
I do not fay, however, that it is not better to fwear by any thing that does not
immediately relate to God, than by his facred Name, his precious Blood, and merito-
rious Wounds, and Paffion; becauſe it creates lefs Horror, gives lefs Offence, and is
not of fo bad Example: There is great difference of Oaths; all are bad, but fome
are much worſe than others, and look as if they were more ftudied, and delibe-
rately wicked, and as if they came from Hell.
When I have convinced you of this, that the Guilt of taking God's Name in vain,
may be contracted by ſwearing by any thing elſe that has relation to God, thơ' his
Name be not directly uſed, then you will fee, that you muſt no more ſwear by any
thing elſe, than by the Name of God; and therefore that all forts of Oaths are com-
prehended under the third Commandment, and concluded under theſe Words--- Thou
fhalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. Which Words contain, as I
faid, a Prohibition of all light and raſh Oaths, in our common Converfation, as well
as all falfe Oaths, whether in private Company, or in publick Courts of Judicature, and
before the Magiſtrate. I will only now ſpeak of all light and rafh Oaths, whether
true or falſe, whether mischievous or idle. For the Name of God is deſpiſed and
profaned, by our ufing it upon light and frivolous Occafions, tho' what we fwear be
never fo truc; becauſe the thing was not worthy of fo much weight, as an Oath does
uſually add to what is faid. Now that no one is to fwear in light and trivial Matters,
will appear to you very plainly, when you confider what an Oath is.
An Oath is a moft religious thing, 'tis an Acknowledgment of God's Omniſcience,
and Omnipotence; we declare thereby, that we believe that he knows the
very Se-
crets of our Hearts, and that he can and will puniſh us, if what we affirm be not
true, and if we purpoſe not to perform what we then promife. An Oath is the fo-
lemn calling upon God, to bear witnefs, that what we utter with our Mouths, is
what we believe in our Hearts to be exactly true; and it is alfo the folemn calling
upon God, to puniſh, and take vengeance on us, if we do not ſeriouſly intend what
we fay and promiſe. The Heart of Man lies fecret to all the World; you want to
know whether I fpeak the Truth, and whether I intend to do as I fay I will do.
My bare Word is not fufficient in the Cafe, becauſe all Men are, or may be Liars ;
and
764
A SERMON upon Swearing.
1
and tho' their Words may be with you, yet their Hearts may be far from
you. How
will you do then, to know whether I be a true Man, and ſpeak what I think? Why
then, I take an Oath, I ſwear by the facred Name of God, that what I affirm with
my Lips, is what my Heart believes to be true; by this I call God to witneſs that
my Heart and Mouth agree, and that if they do not agree, then I am underſtood
to defire that God would take Vengeance on me, and puniſh my Impiety to him, and
Falfhood to Man. Can any thing then be more ferious and religious than a folemn
Oath? Affure yourſelves, that every time you take an Oath, let it be by what it
will, that has relation to God, you do at that time call down the great God to wit-
nefs to the Truth of what you fay, and to avenge himſelf on your Falfhood, if what
you fay be indeed falſe.
that
to.
true.
Remember therefore, I defire you, what a ſerious thing an Oath is; and then think,
whether it be fit to apply fo ferious a thing, to fuch light and frivolous Occafions,
as Men commonly fwear upon, though what they fwear to fhould be true. Let this
be the first Reaſon, againſt fwearing lightly, and foolishly, in trivial Things. It is
an awful thing, to call upon the great God of Heaven and Earth, the Maker and
Preferver of us all, upon whofe Will alone we depend for every Moment of our
Lives; to call him to atteft and witnefs, to matters of fo fmall and pitiful Concern,
you would be aſhamed to call even me, or any ferious Neighbour to be witneſs
This ought not to be done, in Decency, though what you swear to, be never fo
An Oath is to make an end of Strife, and for Confirmation of Truth; but
then this Truth is to be a Truth of Weight and great Importance; and this Strife is to
be of matters worth the ſtriving for. Every Oath that is allowed to be taken, by
God, is to be taken, as the Prophet Jeremiah fays, iv. 2. in truth, in judgment,
and in righteousness; with the Heart, with the Underſtanding, and a good Con-
ſcience; and to diſcover the Truth, that Judgment may be righteouſly adminiftred,
and good may be done by it. The Name of God is not to be ſworn by, where none
of theſe good Ends are anfwered. I wish you could but remember all the Oaths you
have heretofore fworn, that you might examine and fee, how few were fworn in
Truth, in Judgment, and in Righteouſneſs; how few tended to diſcover any Truth
of Importance, that wanted to be difcovered; how few of them contributed to the
doing Juftice to any one, or to the promoting Righteoufnefs. I am afraid you would
find, that every Oath, befides what you took before the Magiftrate, was taken
vainly, lightly, rafhly, prefumptuouſly, and wickedly; fo far from doing any good,
that they are, every one of them, matter of Shame, Humiliation and Repentance
before God.
Remember 2dly, that all theſe light, raſh, and prefumptuous Oaths are not only
unbecoming and unfit to be uttered, by reafon of their unworthy Matter, but are
moſt folemnly forbidden by God. 'Tis God himſelf, you fee, that fays, to every
one of us----Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.----- Would
God himſelf deſcend from Heaven, with fuch Solemnity, as you have ſeen, to forbid
you
the taking his Name in vain, if it were not a Matter of the greateſt Moment
and Importance in the World to you, not to take that Name in vain? "Tis for
your fake alone, for your Advantage, here and hereafter, that God inftructs you
in his Will, and tells you what you are to do, and what to leave undoné, in order
to his bleffing, favouring you, and making you happy.
If you ſhould ſpend every Day you live in Oaths and Curſes, Execrations, Blaf-
phemies, and Profanations of God's holy Name and Word, you would not interrupt
his Happineſs, or do him any harm at all: But becauſe it will hurt yourſelves, and
bring
A SERMON upon Swearing.
765
bring you to everlaſting Deſtruction both of Body and Soul, not to do his Will, and
to comply with his Injunctions and Commands, therefore
Remember 3dly, That thefe Oaths will be avenged by God, fome time or other.
-----The Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain. He who from
Heaven forbids us, every one, to take his Name in vain, declares, from Fire and
Smoak, with Thunder, Lightning, Storm and Tempeft, that he will not hold us guiltles
that take his name in vain; and if not guiltless, then to be fure we fhall be held
guilty; guilty of the Violation and Breach of God's Law, and confequently liable
to fuch Puniſhment as is due to fuch Offenders and Offences. What particular Puniſh-
ments they are obnoxious to, in this Life, is not declared; and therefore they are lia-
ble to all; there is not a Judgment, in all the Stores of God's Vengeance, but they
have reaſon to apprehend and fear, their Sin is fo provoking, and prefumptuous, and
has fo little Temptation to it. Because of fwearing the land mourneth, faith the Pro-
phet Jerem. xxiii. 10. i. e. the Land was afflicted with feveral Plagues and heavy Judg-
ments, by reaſon of the Frequency of Oaths and Perjuries among the People. And
I dare fay, that many a Man, amongst us, is afflicted, blafted, and undone, by this
audacious Contempt of God's Name, and Prophanation, who little thinks from
whence the Curfe and fecret Canker comes. How fhould it be otherwife? Can God
be prefumed to blefs, can he be intreated to blefs, thofe People, who daily take his
Name in vain, who defie his Laws, and curfe him to his Face? who call for Ven-
geance on their own, and other People's Heads, almoſt every Word they fay? Can
they expect a Bleffing, who hardly ever mention God, but in the way of Blafphemy?
and make few other Prayers, than for Plagues and Miſchiefs, and Damnation, and
eternal Wrath? How merciful is God, that he does not grant what theſe poor Pea-
ple afk him, with fuch Earneſtneſs?
But be affured, that without fincere Repentance, and Amendment of this Sin, how-
ever he forbear you in this World, he will most certainly, according to your Curſes
and repeated Wiſhes, condemn you, and confound you, in the World to come. Thoſe
Prayers that came from Hell, which pleaſed your Ears, and filled your Mouth ſo
often, ſhall once be heard, and carry you to that accurfed Place of Pain and Sorrow,
and to that Company of curſed Spirits, which you have called upon fo often.
fo often. Re-
member, that it is a fearful thing to fall into the Hands of the living God; who has
declared, he will not hold him guiltless, that taketh his name in vain.
Remember 4thly, That as oft as you come to Church, on theſe Occafions, ſo oft you
folemnly pray to God, that you may eſcape this great Guilt. No fooner has the Minifter
proclaimed in the Name of God, Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in
vain, but the People, every one of them, is commanded to anſwer-----Lord have
mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this Law, And can you go from hence,
and unbeſpeak this Prayer immediately, by falling again into that wicked Practice?
Without the Grace of God, we can do nothing that is good, nor eſcape the falling
into any Evil: We therefore hear this Law of God pronounced, againſt taking his
Name in vain; we hear the Tranfgreflion of this Law feverely threatned, he will not
hold us guiltleſs-----we pray him to have mercy on us, to forgive us all our great and
frequent Violations of this Law, that are paft; and we intreat him, of his Mercy alfo,
to incline our Hearts, for the future, to keep this Law; that he would fill them with
fuch an awful Reverence and Regard to his great Name, that we may never do it
any Violence or Diſhonour, by ſwearing idly, rafhly, or falfely; and there is all the
reaſon in the World, to pray this Prayer moſt ſeriouſly and earneſtly, becauſe 'tis de-
cent, reaſonable, and a thing of fuch Moment, as even our Lives and Souls depend upon
4 X x
it.
766
A SERMON upon Swearing.
it. Now put theſe things together, that have already been laid down---That an Oath
is a moſt ſacred, ferious, folemn Act of Religion, intended by God for the Confir-
mation of Truth, the doing Juſtice and Judgment to all Men, and the putting an end
to Strife-----That it is a moſt unfeemly, unbecoming thing, to apply fuch ſerious
and religious Affirmations, as Oaths are, to light and trivial Words, and matters of
no Weight and Moment----That all fuch Oaths are utterly forbidden by God's exprefs
Command, uttered by his own Mouth; that the Breach of this Command will furely
be avenged by him, as fure as God is true, who has faid it-----And that we make it
our conſtant Prayer, that we may not fall into this Sin, but may incline with all our
Hearts to keep this Law----Put all theſe things together, and ſee if light and common
Swearing be a thing that Men fhould fo cheaply and eafily fall into; if it be not what
we ought immediately to be humbled for, to be fadly aſhamed of, to be moſt ſeriouf-
ly repented of and left. Theſe are all religious Confiderations, and concern us, as
People that pretend to believe in God, that acknowledge the Divine Authority of the
Scriptures, and profeſs and call ourſelves Chriftians.
There is no fuch thing as anſwering any of theſe Arguments; no body once pre-
tends to juſtify their Practice of Swearing, either from Scripture, Reaſon, or Autho-
rity of wife and good Men: The Practice indeed runs againſt all, and is too much
for all of them, in this World; and no body ever yet defended it: Is it not ſtrange,
that what is ſo impoffible to be excufed or juſtified, ſhould yet obtain fo generally?
That that which every one condemns, both in himſelf, and in all other People,
fhould yet be patiently fuffered to prevail, and reign, as it were, without Controul?
{
If theſe religious Confiderations will not prevail, that yet convince the Conſcience
of every fingle Man and Woman in the World---- there is but little Hope, that other
Reaſons of leſs Weight and Moment, ſhould do any great Service, to the diſcounte-
nancing and abating of this wicked Practice. But yet it will become us to try all
Ways and Means to do it.
Add therefore, in the 5th Place, That the Laws of the Land take Cognizance of
this Matter, and make it Penal to take the name of God in vain. It is a fort of Re-
proach to any Chriſtian People, to think that when neither the Fear of offending God,
and incurring his Diſpleaſure, and being puniſhed by him, can reſtrain Men from
Swearing, the Penalty of Two Shillings fhould do it: That Men ſhould rather fear
the paying a little Money, than fear the offending him, who can caft both Soul and
Body into Hell Fire. This, I fay, is a ſort of ſhameful Confideration; but we muſt
take things as we find them, and be very glad if the Fear of any thing will keep
Men in their Bounds, and preferve them in any Degree innocent. Remember,
therefore, that whoever fwears in common Converſation, is liable to the Forfeiture,
if complained of; and that you lie at the Mercy of every one that will inform againſt
you.
I wiſh this Law would take better effect, than it has hitherto done; and that
you would keep one another in awe, by the Power it gives you, to put them to Ex-
pence and Shame, that are guilty of Swearing. The Name of an Informer is, in
fome Cafes, odious, but in this Caſe it is not fo; here a Man gets nothing by it, be-
cauſe the Forfeiture goes to the Poor, which is ſo much good to them who want it :
And it is done for a good End, that God may not be diſhonoured, and that a finful
Practice in our Neighbour may not be fuffered to go on, to his great Miſchief. I
ſhould not be aſhamed myſelf to turn Informer in this Cafe, if it ſhould fo fall out.
But I had rather much, that the Fear of God, and the Senfe of your Duty, ſhould
reſtrain you from doing Evil, than the Fear of fuch Information, and fuch Penalty.
Make this uſe of the Law, however; confider, whether it be worth the while, to
pay down the Wages of a Day or two's Labour, by which your Family ſhould
fubfift, for the fake of Swearing an Oath,----if there were really no other Miſchief
to
A SERMON upon Swearing.
767
to follow. Especially when you remember, in the Sixth Place, that there is nei-
ther Pleaſure nor Profit to be reaped from this ungodly Practice. They who are
moſt addicted to Swearing, know not why they are fo; they can give no Reaſon,
why they fall continually into this abominable Sin; they freely acknowledge, that
they neither propoſe, nor find, any Pleaſure, or Advantage in it. Other Sins have
one or both of thefe Temptations, to induce Men to fall; they either fatisfy fome
fenfual Appetite, or gratify fome covetous Defire of Profit; at leaſt they hope to find
their Account in it. But he who fwears, thinks of neither: So that he truly gives
away his Soul for nothing. Other Sinners fell them at leaſt, but this Man ſquan-
ders his away for that which neither pleaſes him, nor does him any Service. Of all
Offenders in the World, the common Swearer makes the worſt Bargain, gives him-
felf up to everlaſting Pains and Sorrows, for that which no body adviſed him to, no
body tempted him to, no body approved when done; which he himſelf never liked
whilft doing, nor ever remembred when done, with any Satisfaction or Content. Let
any one call to mind the many Oaths, and Profanations of God's Holy Name, he
has been guilty of, and fee what he has gotten by them, whether he be the richer,
the wifer, or more eſteemed, or any ways bettered by them: And will you keep a
Practice ſtill, that never did, nor ever will, bring either Pleaſure or Advantage with
it? What shall it profit a man, indeed, to gain the whole world, and lofe his own
foul? But is it not ſtill ſo much the worſe, to loſe his Soul, and gain nothing?
The fenfual Pleaſures of this Life may bring one to eternal Pain; but yet it is
fooliſher, to endure thofe Pains, for Sins that have no Pleaſure in them. In all
Offences elfe, we confider what Men aim at and intend, what their End and Drift is;
and what the Motives and Temptations to them are; and accordingly we excufe
them more or leſs; but in this we ſee no End, no Temptation, and they themſelves
fay fo; they are therefore felf-condemned, and condemned by every body elſe. What
fhall I fay further? 'Tis a Practice that you hate and abhor, in all People whom
you love, as in your Wives and Children; and a Practice you cannot well endure in
your Servants, and fuch as are related to you. You would, I imagine, ſtand amazed,
be angry, and aſhamed, to hear your Wives and Children anfwer you with Oaths,
fwear loudly upon all Occafions, and mingle Blafphemies and Curfes in their com-
mon Diſcourſes. They have the fame Paffions, the fame Provocations to this Sin,
with yourſelves; you are no more allowed by the Laws of God, or Man, than they;
'tis only Cuſtom makes the difference. Their Modeſty and Virtue has not yet bro-
ken through the Reſtraints of Religion and God's Laws, and I hope they never will:
but if they ſhould, they have as much to fay before God as yourſelves; no Sex, Age
or Degree, can pretend to a Privilege of offending God. But I would gladly hope
'tis Love to thoſe Relations, that would give you both Grief and Shame, to hear them
fall into this wicked Practice; imagine therefore, fince they love you alſo equally,
that thoſe Relations are alike afhamed and grieved to fee you fall fo eafily and frequent-
ly into that wicked Practice; and for their fake, as well as for your own, forbear it.
Think with yourſelf, that as you fell into this Sin, by Example, and hearing others
fwear, by Habit, and by Cuſtom, fo may your Wife and Children (without the
Grace of God, and great Care) be brought, by your Example, and living daily in your
Company, to the fame fhameful, wicked Cuftom: And then, what a Heap of Sin
and Miſchief do you draw upon your Head; by occafioning thoſe to fall, whom above
all the World you were obliged to keep upright? by drawing down God's Vengeance
on their Heads, whofe Innocence and Prayers might have prevailed with him, to
ſpare you, and reſtore you to his Favour. "Tis certain indeed, that neither Wife,
nor Children, will be excufed before God, for following the wicked Example of a
Huſband and a Father; becauſe every body is to live by Rule and God's Law, and
not by any one's Example: but 'tis as certain, that he ſhall be puniſhed by God, for
giving
768
A SERMON upon Swearing.
giving fuch an ill Example to Wife and Children, who are ſo apt and eaſy to follow
it. I would not eaſily ſuppoſe, that Women frequently fall into this accurſed Cuſtom;
but I fay, if they do, the Men are very much to blame for it, by fetting them ſo ill
an Example, and giving them fuch Countenance and Encouragement. And then,
what a fort of a Hell is there in fuch a Houſe, where every one defpifes God, and
tramples under foot his Laws, and no body is left, to ſtand amazed, to reprove, to
grieve, and to intercede with God, for his Mercy and Forbearance to that finful and
loft Family. Theſe are the propereft Arguments that I could think on, to diffuade
you by, from light and raſh Swearing; they are fuch as you have often heard, ſuch
as your own Senſe and Reaſon may and does fuggeſt and furniſh you with, againſt
your daily Practice: Your Condemnation will chiefly arife from hence, that you in
your own Hearts and Confciences know all the Reaſons and Arguments againſt ſwear-
ing, and not one for it, as well as the greateſt Scholars in the World; and therefore
want not to be inſtructed in your Duty by us, but to be remembred and put in
mind of what you knew before.
;
Let me therefore make an end, at this time, with reminding you of fome few
things, and laying fome few Injunctions on you. Let every one, that has been guilty
of this dangerous and wicked Practice, repent fincerely of it, ask God Forgiveneſs
with his whole Heart, and beg the Affiftance of his Grace, to keep him, and pre-
vent his falling again into it. And let him alſo uſe his beſt Endeavours himſelf, to
avoid all manner of occafions, that hitherto have led him to it. Let him carefully
watch over himſelf, that he ſpeak not haſtily and unadviſedly with his Lips. Remember
God is in the Company, and hears you every Word you ſay. Give not way to Anger
upon every little Accident, that croffes your Deſign; this is the Parent of many Oaths
the leaſt thing that is out of the way, and does not do as you would have it, the leaſt
Oppofition of your Judgment, the leaſt Contradiction to your Will, provokes you to
call on God, to curſe, and blafpheme his Name; as if that would any way mend the
matter, or make things go the better. You muft, if given to Swearing, above all
things, avoid Drinking, and Gaming: If the Fear of God depart from you, when
you are fober, ſerious, and have your Senfes about you, and you can hardly then
forbear Swearing; how ſhould you do it, when you have loft that Reaſon, and are
little leſs than mad? Even they who abhor an Oath when fober, do yet outrageouſly
fwear when they are overcome with Drink; you must therefore, by all means, avoid
Exceſs, that does ſo naturally and eafily provoke to Paffion. And as to Gaming, there
are few People in the World that follow it, but ſwear exceffively; there are few that
loſe their Money, but loſe their Patience and their Temper with it; and the little
croſs Accidents that commonly happen, overthrow all Reaſon, and leave the Man
to the Rage of his wild Paffions, and then you know what follows. Gaming is one
of the moſt deſtructive Vices Men can fall into, and provokes to the greateſt Anger.
It undoes moft People at long-run; and 'tis much worfe in mean and poor People,
than in the Rich, becauſe it waſtes their Time exceffively, which poor People can very
ill fpare, from the Care and Labours that are to ſupport themſelves and poor Fami-
lies; and it waſtes their ſmall Subſtance, that ſhould furniſh their Wives and Chil--
dren with Bread and other Neceffaries of Life. But that which I intend againſt it
now is, that it occafions Oaths and Curſes, Blafphemies and dreadful Execrations,
in a moſt fearful Manner; and therefore, whoever would avoid Swearing and taking
the Name of God in vain, muſt be fure to avoid Gaming, though it be for little mat-
ters. Avoid alfo all fuch Company, as are likelieft to minifter occafion to Anger and
Oppofition. Some People are of fo perverſe and thwarting a Temper, that a Man
had need of Patience to converfe quietly with them; they that are apt to be pro-
voked, muſt ſhun this Company. And when you have taken this care of yourſelf,
to
A SERMON upon Swearing.
769
--
to prevent your falling into this wicked Practice
go on to promote the Glory of
God, by doing good to others-----If your Neighbours are apt to fwear, tell them,
calmly, they diſtruſt you too much, and that you would believe them without an
Oath, they have fuch Credit with you. When once they find you deal thus Chri-
ftianly and friendly with them, they will be more upon their guard in your Com-
pany; and fo you will be inftrumental to their Good, and make fome amends for
your own Miſcarriages. But for thoſe who are more immediately under your Care,
and depend upon you, there you may be more free, and there it is your Duty to re-
prove, and puniſh fuch as you find guilty of this way of diſhonouring God. Let
not any of your Children dare to ſwear, without your Anger and immediate Cha-
ſtiſement. You will fave them hereby, from much Miſchief here, and from God's
Anger hereafter. Keep not a Servant under your Roof, that is guilty of this wicked
Practice, their Labours will not be bleffed by God to you. Employ no Workmen
that will not do their Bufinefs without fwearing. Relieve no Poor that are guilty of
thus difhonouring God. You would, in a little time, fee a great Change and Re-
formation of Manners, if you would take theſe Courfes: They ought to want even
Neceffaries, that will not work for them, and enjoy them with the Favour of God;
they would in a little time be very thankful to you, and bleſs God for you, that by
thofe means reclaimed them from thofe curfed Habits. This was heretofore the Sin
of the Rich, the Eafy, and the thoughtleſs great Men of the World; but now, the
poorer People are, the wickeder, and more provoking God; they will not let the Rich
and Great have any Sins peculiar to them, but will come in for their ſhare, tho' it be
but a fhare of Damnation.
Is it not a ſtrange and amazing thing, to hear poor People fwearing at the Plow,
and at their daily Labour, fwearing at their Horfes, Cattle, and any thing that comes
in their Way? People that depend on the Bleffing of God, for their daily Bread, are
daily provoking him, to blaſt and confound them. Ought not theſe People to be
taught by Puniſhments, and all forts of Penalties and Rigors, to be more fenfible of
their Duty, and to pay more Honour to their conftant Heavenly Benefactor? Shall it
be cheaper ftill to defie their Maker, and defpife their good Redeemer, than to fpeak
a diſreſpectful Word of their Superiors, Parents, or their Maſters? Compaffion to
the Poor would make one partial in their Favour, and much more tender of afflict-
ing them than others; but this is true Compaffion, to afflict them for a while, that
they may learn not to blafpheme, and be faved in the Day of the Lord Jefus. Let
no Man therefore be tenderer of them, than of God's Honour, nor by fparing their
Bodies, hurt their Souls. If they will venture to offend God, let them be fure to
provoke the Juſtice and Indignation of Men, and pay whatever Penalty the Law in-
flicts; that if they will not obey for Confcience fake, they may for Wrath, that the
Name of God be not blafphemed.
But let me rather end, with hoping, defiring, and with praying, that the Senſe of
God's Honour, the Senfe of his Command, the Senſe of their Duty, and their great
Danger, may influence them to Confideration, Repentance, and Amendment, more
than the Fear of Man; and that, by all, or any means, they may be evermore re-
ftrained from taking the Name of the Lord their God in vain; and may for ever-
more remember, that he will not hold him guiltleſs that taketh his name in vain.
4 Y y
A CHARGE
770
A
1
CHARGE
DELIVERED TO THE
CLER GY
OF THE
DIOCESE of ELY
In AUGUST, 1722.
THE
PREFACE
W
HEN I had well confidered, and put together, what I
thought most proper and most useful to deliver to the Clergy,
at the approaching Vifitation, I took a little Time to deli-
berate, whether it would be moft for the Eafe and common Benefit of
us all, that I ſhould read it myſelf, as is the ufual Way, again and
again, to the diftinct Affemblies, in the feveral Places where we were
to meet; or, whether I fhould fend it, in this Manner, together with
the Articles, to every fingle Clergyman concern'd, to read at home, be-
fore-hand, or when beft at leifure.
And, having had the Experience of both Ways, I have fixed upon
the latter, as the moſt convenient: And have rather choſen to Spare my
own Pains in Speaking, and your Patience in Hearing, than a little
Expence, in fending this abroad, in the Manner I here do.
THE
1:
771
THE
CHARGE
T
HERE is no Confideration can, I think, be more grievous and afflicting to
the Mind of a truly honeft and careful Miniſter of Chrift, (let him be in
what Station he will) than to find his Labours, Time, and Pains meet
with fuch Entertainment, as is in no Degree anſwerable to the good Inten-
tions with which he employed them, nor to the Hopes he reaſonably conceived of
their Succeſs.
This, however, muft not diſcourage me, nor any one of our Profeffion, from pur-
fuing by the fame, or any other honeft Means that we can think on, the fame good
End we have, and always ought to have, namely, the Edification and Inftruction of
that Part of Chrift's Church, which God, in his good Providence, hath charged us
with. This is proper, and in fome fort peculiar to our good Office, that we muſt ne-
ver change our Aim and End, let the Event be what it will; but must go on, doing
our beſt, and leave the Iffue to God, in whofe Hands alone it is. The Men of other
Callings and Profeffions, may, if they find their Time and Pains loft, or ill ſpent,
and that things do not anſwer their Expectation, either leave off entirely, or betake
themſelves to other Bufinefs. Success is to them of fo great Confequence, that they
have nothing elſe to look after; and if they find it not, after ſome reaſonable Patience
and Perſeverance, they have nothing to do, but to defert that fruitleſs Undertaking,
and look out for fomething more promifing, and hopeful. But this is not our
Cafe. Our Calling is of God, and never is to be forfaken; but that is not all, for we
may keep our Calling and Profeffion, without anfwering the End of it. The End of
our Inſtitution and Appointment is, the bringing People to God, and keeping them
in the Faith, and Obedience to Chrift; by entring them into Covenant with God by
Baptiſm; by inftructing them in the Principles of their Religion; directing them in
the Diſcharge of all their Duties; reminding them of their Omiffions and Neglects;
exhorting them to Stedfaftnefs and Perfeverance in Well-doing; and, in a Word, to
do whatever we can, to bring our People to, and preſerve them in, the Ways of
Peace and Safety. This is the End of our Calling, this is the Reafon of our being
fet
apart and fanctified to God's Service; and this is the Promiſe and Profeffion that
we make, when Ordained to any holy Function; and for this we have our different
Recompences in this World; and fhall, (but with more Certainty, more Equality,
and Juſtice) have them alſo in the next, at the great Day of Retribution.
Now, as this is the End of our Inftitution, and theſe the Means inftituted alfo of
God, for the obtaining this good End, fo we muſt never have this End out of our
Sight, nor ever ceaſe to uſe theſe inſtituted Means, let what will be the Iffue. We are
to preach, and pray, adminifter the Sacraments, and, upon all occafions, to dif-
charge our feveral Duties to the People, in the beſt Manner that we can, tho' we
ſhould do them all in vain, or find but little Fruit of all our Labours. "Tis a very dif
couraging thing indeed, to beſtow one's Time, and Pains, and Study, and good
Meaning, upon a hardned and unprofiting People. But, as we may be, (and I
hope we often are) miſtaken, in judging of the Succefs of our Labours in our Mini-
ſtry; ſo, were we never fo furely diſappointed of our Expectations, yet muſt we per-
fevere, and in patience poffefs our fouls, and only have in view our Orders and Com-
mands on Earth, and our Reward in Heaven. We have to deal with Creatures, that
are, and muſt be free Agents, and therefore whether they will hear, or whether they
will
772
A Charge delivered to the Clergy
1
will forbear, will not depend on us, but on themſelves; and therefore if we do our
Duty, their Deafneſs or Neglect, will never be imputed to us. Paul may plant, and
Apollos water, but 'tis God that giveth the increafe. He that planteth therefore, and
he that watereth, will not be anſwerable for the Increaſe: The planting and the
watering is their Buſineſs, and for the Neglect of that, they may and will be an-
fwerable. Nor is the Reward annexed or promiſed to their Success, but to their La-
bours, and Endeavours to fucceed. They who turn many to righteousness, ſhall ſhine as
the ſtars for ever and ever. But ſo will they, who equal them in Zeal, and Care,
and Diligence, to turn to Righteoufnefs, even thofe, who after all will not be turned.
The Certainty therefore of pleaſing our great Maſter, and of receiving the Reward,
let what will be the Iffue of all our Labours in the Lord, is to fupport us under all
Difcouragements whatever we may meet with, in diſcharging them; and is to
balance that Concern and Grief that the good Huſbandman can never fail of having,
as often as he comes to the Trees he has long and carefully cultivated, and finds no
Fruit thereon.
But after all, altho' we are not anſwerable for the Succefs and Iffue of our Mini-
fterial Labours, yet fince we are anfwerable for our Fidelity, our Care, and Dili-
gence, and our Diſcretion, in the Uſe and Management of all thofe Means that are
appointed of God, or fuggefted by human Reaſon, Obfervation, and Experience, as
fit and proper to attain that excellent End, which is to be (and is I hope) the Aim
and Defire of all our Hearts, namely the Edification and Salvation of all our People;
fince we are anſwerable, I ſay, for all theſe Things, which are the Means by which
(with the Grace of God) we muſt, if ever we do, fucceed; we ſhall have little Joy
in thinking of the Recompence, unleſs our Hearts be firſt affured, that we have done
our beſt Endeavours to obtain it. What is it therefore, that can give us this Affurance,
or good Hope, that we ſhall, one Day, hear that bleffed Euge, from our Maſter's
Mouth, Well done, thou good and faithful fervant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord?
Why, nothing but the Conſcience of our having been thoſe good and faithful Ser-
vants, there mentioned. 'Tis not St. Paul alone can fay, Henceforth there is laid
up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, ſhall give me
at that day; but every Miniſter of Chriſt beſides, if he be able alſo to ſay, as he had
faid before, I have fought a good fight, I have finished my courfe, I have kept the
faith: All which Expreffions refer to the good Diſcharge of the miniſterial Office,
to which he had been exhorting Timothy in the Verſes before, and in this (2 Tim.
iv. 7.) by his own Example. This is a Thing that we are much concern'd to think
upon; fo much, that if we thought on nothing elfe, we ſhould not, at any time,
repent of it. 'Tis now our Honour, and Advantage too, that we are the Stewards
and Diſpenſers of God's Word and Sacraments: But the Time will come, no body
knows how foon to fome, but fhortly to us all, when we ſhall be called to give an
Account of this our Stewardship, to the great Mafter of us all: And happieſt he, who
ſhall be beſt prepared to do it! The readieſt way to be fo, will be, certainly, to re-
collect the Promiſes, the Engagements, and the Obligations, we laid ourſelves un-
der, when firſt we enter'd on our holy Office; and then to fee how we fulfilled
thoſe Promiſes, acquitted ourſelves of thoſe Engagements, and how we have dif-
charged thoſe ſeveral Obligations. For, juft according to the Anſwer that the Con-
ſcience makes to theſe Inquiries, are Men prepared to give an Account of their
Stewardſhip, and no otherwiſe. I know not, therefore, how I fhall more profitably
ſpend the Time, allotted ufually to theſe Occafions, than by confidering plainly and
diſtinctly, the ſeveral Engagements we have voluntarily brought upon ourſelves, by
entering into Holy Orders; that we may fee, what matter of Joy we have, or what
of Sorrow, Reparation, and Amendment: For, in this Stewardship, we have to
deal
of the Dioceſe of Ely, in Auguſt, 1722.
773
deal with ſo compaffionate and good a Lord, that our Accounts will paſs, not only
with Miftakes of Ignorance and Negligence, but of Unfaithfulneſs and Fraud itſelf,
if ſeriouſly acknowledged and repented of, and if redeemed by After-Care and Dili-
gence.
The firſt thing that naturally occurs to a Man, upon Enquiries of this Nature, is,
I believe, with what Mind and Difpofition he firſt entred on this Holy Office, and
how he was qualified to undertake it. For that is the firſt Queſtion that is aſked of
every one that is a Candidate for Holy Orders, Do you trust that you are inwardly mo-
ved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon you this Office and Miniftration, to ferve God, for
the promoting of his Glory, and the edifying of his People? And the Anſwer is, what
the Queſtion ſuggeſts it ſhould be, I truft fo. Now confidering the Age, Condition,
and Circumſtances of the Generality of fuch as enter into Holy Orders, it will be no
Violation of either Truth or Charity, to fay, that the greateſt Part of them by much
intend thereby their better Livelihood and Maintenance; they have it in their Aim and
View to make their Fortune by it; it is the Means they pitch upon, in order to their
End, which is Preferment, and the bettering their Condition in this World. How
is it, therefore, that we are to reconcile this End, with the Anſwer that is made to
this Queftion? For unless we can do this, we ſhall have little Comfort in our Refle-
ctions. If aiming at a worldly Maintenance be not confiftent with our being in-
wardly moved by the Holy Ghoft to take upon us the Miniſtry, what an un-
eafy Struggle muft there be within, when we remember that we made that ſo-
lemn Anſwer, when we had certainly that worldly End in View? Muft we recon-
cile theſe things by Repentance only? Muft we ſay, that we were young and heedleſs,
and preffed by our Relations and Neceffities, and did not enough confider what we
were to fay, and do, when entering on this Holy Calling; but gave the Anſwers
which the Church preſcribes, without examining fufficiently the Queſtions? But that
upon maturer Thoughts, Advance of Years, and more Deliberation, we fee we were
too hafty, adventured rafhly, and now repent, and are concerned we entered into
God's Service, by fo wrong Steps at firſt, ſuch ſelfiſh Motives, and fuch worldly Re-
ſpects; but being in, and finding it a Warfare from which there is no withdrawing,
we have endeavoured, by the Grace of God, to make amends by our after Beha-
viour, Care and painful Diligence in our reſpective Stations.
This indeed is what muſt needs be done, and all that can be done, by fuch as
think they have done amifs, and are concerned for doing fo: And this is the Repen-
tance that is certainly required, and certainly fufficient, where any one finds the Cafe
to be his own, becauſe it is indeed All that can be done in it. But this Repentance,
tho' it reconcile a Man to God, yet does not reconcile our faying, We trust we are
inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon us the Ministry, with our being moved
by worldly Confiderations, if ſo be thoſe two Movements are truly not confiftent,
and cannot dwell together. Repentance only blots our Anfwer out, and tells us we
ſhould not, becauſe we could not honeftly, have made it, when we did: And it tells
us, that were we to begin again, we muſt not do it: Repentance of having done
what we apprehend to have been ill done, does certainly imply our doing it no more,
ſhould we have Opportunity. The Difficulty, therefore, ftill remains upon all others;
for the Church ſtill aſks that Queſtion, and requires that Anſwer, that is inconfiftent
with our aiming at worldly Advantages thereby, if it be not lawful to propofe to our
felves the obtaining a Livelihood and Maintenance, by going into Holy Orders.
And fince the Church has made it one of the neceffary Terms and Conditions of ad-
mitting Men into Orders, and without which ſhe admits none, it will not be amiſs to
ſhew that ſhe wants no Vindication in this Matter, that theſe Conditions are not hard
4 Zz
and
774
A Charge delivered to the Clergy
and unreaſonable, nor incompatible with thofe Defires and Aims, and worldly Pro-
ſpects that People have, and bring along with them, upon thefe Occafions.
The Queſtion is not, whether they who are already in the Miniſtry, may not live
by it; for the greateſt Authority that ever was, hath told us, that the labourer is worthy
of his hire,Luke x. vii. and St. Paul hath faid, that the Lord hath ordained, that they who
preach the goſpel ſhould live by the gospel, 1 Cor. ix. 14. and he himſelf commands him that
is taught in the word, to communicate to him that teacheth in all good things, Gal. vi. 6.
So that this matter is determined beyond all doubt, and the Queſtion only is, whether
the Labourer, who is fo worthy of his Hire, may enter on that Labour in proſpect of that
Hire? Whether a Man may defire to be qualified to preach the Gofpel, in hopes of
living by that Goſpel, fince he finds the Lord hath fo ordained? Whether a Man
may
defire to become a Teacher of the Word, that he may thereby have fuch good Things,
as he defires and wants, communicated to him by thoſe whom he teacheth? This is
the Queſtion, and is neither more nor leſs than this, Whether a Man may defire a
good Office, for the fake of a good Reward (a Temporal Reward) annexed to the Dif
charge of it, by that very Perſon who inſtituted that Office? And ſetting the Queſtion
in this Light, which is indeed the truth of the matter, there can be no difficulty in re-
folving it. It is Christ the Lord, that hath inſtituted the Office of the Miniſtry,
and appointed Men to preach the Goſpel; and it is the fame Lord, that hath appoin-
ted the Reward, and hath ordained that they ſhould live by the Goſpel: The Ma-
fter therefore hath not ſeparated the Office from the Recompence, nor the Labour from
the Hire; nor any where, that I can find, required the Servant fo to do. It is, in-
deed, not only poffible to abſtract theſe things in the Mind, and confider them di-
ſtinctly, but many both of old, and of late, I doubt not, have actually undertaken
the Miniſtry of the Gofpel, without any other Aim than doing good thereby, and
with no manner of reſpect to the Recompence of Reward, in this World: That is not
the thing in hand, whether it can be done by fome, nor whether it has been done; for
certainly it may be done, and has been done, and I dare fay, is now done by many
excellent People in the World; but the Queſtion is, whether it be neceſſary to be done;
whether it be required at our hands; whether All who enter on the Miniſtry are obli-
ged not to have theſe fecular Encouragements in view, but only to defire the Office
for its own fake, and for the fake of doing God Service therein: And to that I ſay,
the remembring that Chrift, who inftituted the Office, did alfo appoint the Reward,
is a ſufficient Anſwer; becauſe it is impoffible that he ſhould annex a Recompence to
the Diſcharge of a Duty, which it ſhould not be lawful to look to, and defire, upon
undertaking to diſcharge that Duty; but very lawful to claim that Recompence upon
diſcharging it, and very lawful to receive it: Nay it is fo much due both in Reaſon, and
by Appointment of God, that it becomes finful for any one to detain it. The matter
would not bear the ftating and repeating, in any other Inftance. The Mafter fays, the
labourer is worthy of his hire. He calls forth Labourers, and fends them into his Har-
vefts, contracts for Wages with them, and fays it is a great Offence for any one to
defraud the Labourer of his Hire. Now would one, after all this, think it unlawful
for this Labourer to go into the Harveſt upon Profpect of this Hire? Does any Man
think it unlawful for a Soldier to lift himſelf into his Prince's Service, for the fake of
Pay? Or to undertake any other Office, in hopes of living by it? In all theſe Cafes,
no body pretends to fcruple at aiming at their worldly Advantage, in their Underta-
kings. And where is the Difference? Why, one is a facred and Spiritual Office,
and the other a Civil one; one is concerned in ferving the Community, the other in
conducting Souls through the Ways of Virtue and Religion, to everlaſting Happineſs
in Heaven. No doubt of it, the Offices are as different as Things can be; they aim
at
of the Diocefe of Ely, in Auguít, 1722.
775
at the moft different Ends; and the Means they ufe are full as different. There is very
little Refemblance betwixt thefe Things. But that does not at all fhew, or make it
reaſonable, that the Reward and Wages of both theſe Offices, and Services, fhould
not be the fame, in this World. And God, who knew the Difference of theſe
Offices better than we, and the excellent Pre-eminence of his Service above other Ci-
vil ones, has yet appointed a worldly Recompence to the Diſcharge of it, of the ſame
Nature with others, tho' not in the fame manner. Reafon, Utility, and the Neceffi-
of Things, have annexed proportionable Rewards to the Difcharge of Temporal
and Civil Offices, which would not be diſcharged without them. And God, foreſeeing
that neither Reaſon nor Utility would fufficiently move Men in their Spiritual Con-
cerns, hath by Command, and pofitive Appointment, annexed a Temporal Recom-
pence to the Diſcharge of Spiritual Offices, which neither would, nor could (without
a conſtant Courſe of Miracles) be otherwiſe diſcharged.
ty
Now put theſe Things together; That the Spiritual Office is of abfolute Neceffity
to the conducting Men to Happineſs; and that it is therefore appointed by God: That
they, who are to undertake and diſcharge this Office, are Men; and ſo many of them,
that they cannot live unleſs they are provided for; and that accordingly God hath pro-
vided for them, by making it the Duty of thoſe who are taught, to communicate their
good Things to thoſe who teach; by telling us that the Labourer is worthy of his
Hire; and that thoſe who preach the Goſpel are to live by the Goſpel: Put, I fay,
theſe Things together, and fee, whether the Office of the Miniftry being a Spiritual
Office, and wholly verſed in Things Spiritual, aiming at a Spiritual End, by Means
altogether Spiritual, namely, the faving Men's Souls, by preaching the Goſpel, and
by adminiftring the bleffed Sacraments to proper Subjects, be yet a Reaſon why Men
ſhould not aim at Temporal Advantages, by undertaking that Office, fince God, who
underſtands the Nature of his own Inſtitutions, and hath inſtituted this Spiritual
Office, hath alſo annexed theſe Temporal Advantages to thoſe who are to adminiſter
this Office, and knows that Men cannot diſcharge it, without fuch Temporal Advan-
tage, and Proviſion, unleſs he give them Food from Heaven himſelf, and preſerve
them in a miraculous manner, which he hath no where faid he would. That Re-
compence therefore which is due in reaſon to the Service; that which is due by God's
Appointment and Command; that which no Man can detain without Sin; and that
without which few or none can enter on the Service, or difcharge it; that Recom-
pence, I fay, may very innocently and lawfully be made a Motive to the entring on
the Service, altho' the Service or Calling be Spiritual.
This, however, will not hinder thoſe who think they can, from acting upon more
difintereſted Principles, and entring on their Holy Office with no other Aim or View,
than doing Glory to God by doing good to Men, in guiding and conducting them to
Heaven. No body would difcourage thofe, whofe fervent Souls and eaſy Fortunes
in this World have diſpoſed them to enter on the Miniſtry, without any other Pro-
ſpect of Reward, than what they expect, and will be fure to find, at God's Hands in
Heaven. I am only concerned for thoſe who neither have theſe Fervours nor Eſtates,
and yet are Candidates for Holy Orders; and concerned to fhew, that it is innocent
and lawful for fuch, to come, and bring along with them the Aim and Purpoſe of
living of and by the Gospel, if they are found fit, and duly commiffioned to preach
the Gospel. Such, we muſt own, are they who make up the Body of the Clergy at
preſent, and I believe thoſe who have been before, and thoſe who ſhall be ſo hereaf-
ter, to the End of Time. And I have dwelt the longer upon it, that we might be
clear and without Scruple in the matter; not entring on our Office, nor continuing in
it, with that Reluctance and Uneafinefs, which we muſt needs have, if we believe
that
776
A Charge delivered to the Clergy
that our Defires, and the Neceffity of our Affairs, have, or will, put us upon doing
what we are not fully fatisfied is lawful to do.
The things that have a great Face of Piety, the Propofitions that feem more fpi-
ritual and exalted, and that are lefs felfifh, are wonderfully taking, and apt to im-
preſs upon devout Minds to the begetting Scruple and Error, where there is really no
reaſonable Ground. Some of the greateft Men of old have, in their Flights, told
us, that Men muft ferve God for his own Sake, and do their Duty out of Love to
Virtue; and that it was a flaviſh and ignoble Thing to be religious either for Hope of
Recompence, or Fear of Punishment, with Abundance of other fine Leffons, which
they would have Men learn in this Life, when in all likelihood they will be the
utmoſt Attainments of pure and perfect Souls in the Life to come. Thoſe, how-
ever, who can, or rather think they can, may act upon fuch generous and noble Prin-
ciples. But to the ordinary Race of Mankind, methinks it ſhould be enough to fay,
that God, who underſtands fufficiently the Importance of Man's Salvation, hath con-
ſulted the Paffions of Hope and Fear, which he implanted in him; and to work upon
them both, hath promiſed everlaſting Happiness in Heaven, to fuch as will believe
and obey the Goſpel; and threatened Unbelievers and the impenitent ungodly ones
with everlaſting Punishment. So that it ſhould not ſeem a flaviſh thing to do one's
Duty, or to turn fom Sin, for fear of God's Diſpleaſure and his Puniſhment; nor
yet below any good Chriftian, to do what God commands, and to repent of
having done otherwiſe, in hopes of reconciling and pleafing him, and being happy.
It will be evermore allowed to do what God would have us do, by Principles he hath
implanted in us, and upon fuch Motives as he hath laid down in the Scriptures to
move us by; let good devout Writers fay what they will.
1
"Tis a fine thing to ſay, that fpiritual Men fhould be moved by none but ſpiritual
Confiderations, to undertake an Office wholly ſpiritual. Let thoſe, to whom it is
given, receive this Saying. But furely 'tis enough to fatisfy the reft, to confider,
that God, who inſtituted our Office, and underſtands its Nature well, and the Powers
of thoſe who are to undertake and exerciſe this Office, hath annexed a temporal Recom-
pence to the Diſcharge of it; and therefore that it muſt be innocent and lawful, for
fuch as preſent themſelves to undergo this Charge, to have their Eye upon
this tempo-
ral Recompence: Which is the thing that I would fhew, and which I have, I hope,
fhewn may be done.
But to this I muſt alſo add another thing, that must be done by all who intend to
enter on this Holy Calling; and that is, that they must bring along with them a full
and ſettled Purpoſe of glorifying God, by doing the beſt and utmoſt Service they can
to Men: This they muſt ſeriouſly and earneſtly intend: This muſt be the preparatory
Difpofition of all their Hearts; this Reſolution muſt be fixed in them, that, together
with their Perfons, they will dedicate their Hearts, their Time, their Labour, and
their beſt Abilities to God's Service. Without this fix'd Intention, ſettled Purpoſe,
and confirmed Refolution, of applying themſelves with all the Zeal, and Pains, and
Diligence they can, to the Diſcharge of all the Parts of their good Office, in
the ſeveral Stations and Degrees to which it ſhall pleaſe God to call them, there is no
coming or pretending to the Miniſtry. They will not be able to make one true An-
fwer to all the Queſtions that the Church, by her proper Officers, makes to them;
nor will they ever think of duly qualifying themſelves for it.
But it is no otherwife in this, than in all other Cafes whatever; and therefore there
is no unuſual Hardſhip in it. He who has not ſteadfaſtly purpoſed in his Heart to dif
charge the Office (Civil or Military) he is about to undertake, with all the Care, Fi-
delity and Skill, that is required, is by no means fit to undertake it; he never will
diſcharge
of the Dioceſe of Ely, in Auguft, 1722.
777
diſcharge it as he ſhould, becauſe he will never be qualified to do it. He has his
Eye upon the Salary and Profits of the Place only, but thinks not of deferving them
by doing honeſtly his Duty; by which means he becomes falfe to his Truft, and mif-
chievously unjuſt to the Community, by defrauding them of the Service which they
want, and of the Pay that was appointed to reward that Service in another. All this
Miſchief, as I ſaid, proceeds from a Man's not ſteadfaſtly purpofing in his Heart, to
execute, with all Fidelity, the Office he undertakes, as Reafon and Juſtice require
he ſhould; becauſe without this previous Refolution, he will never qualify himſelf to
do fo. And it is the fame Cafe with Spiritual and Miniſterial Offices and Officers.
There muſt be this Foundation laid, or nothing good will follow or be built thereon.
This is the End we muſt propoſe, the Glory of God by doing good to Men; and then we
ſhall quickly find, that the only Means of compaffing this End, will be the providing
ourſelves with fuch Abilities and Qualifications as are requifite to the Diſcharge of the
Office we undertake, namely, a good Report for Virtue and Sobriety of Life, and a
fufficient Stock of Learning; of whofe Degree and Meaſure, the Governors of the
Church are held and appointed to be the beſt and moſt competent Judges; who muſt,
however, proceed by Rules prefcribed and reaſonable, and fuch as are well known
to thoſe who offer themſelves as Candidates for Holy Orders.
He therefore that hath ſeriouſly, and in good earneft, purpoſed in his Heart to
take upon him the Office and Miniſtration of a Deacon, or the Order of Priesthood,
with full Intention of ferving God, for the promoting of his Glory, and the edifying
of his People; and in order to it hath lived, and purpoſes to live, a Godly and a So-
ber Life, and to improve in reading and underſtanding the Holy Scriptures, and other
learned Books to fit him more and more for the Diſcharge of his Duty, he who brings
this Difpofition along with him, and this Preparation and good Purpofe of advancing
in Virtue and Knowledge, may very honeftly and truly fay, that he trufts he is in-
wardly moved by the Holy Ghoft to take the Office he is feeking for upon him, as well
becauſe that, in general, every good and perfect gift cometh from above; and that it is
God who worketh in us both to will and to do; and that without him we can do nothing;
and that he it is, who by his fpecial Grace preventing us, does put into our Minds
good Defires: As alfo, in particular, becauſe he is moved to undertake this Office,
by Arguments, Authorities, and Motives, derived from the Holy Scriptures, which
are the Word of God, and Dictates of the Holy Ghost: So that he who is moved by
them, is certainly moved by the Holy Ghoft; as he who is moved by what I fay,
either by Word of Mouth, or Writing, is certainly moved by Me. We have indeed
no other way (ordinary, I mean, and common to us all) of knowing that we are in-
fluenced and acted at any time by the Spirit of God, but by finding that what we de-
fire, and what we do, is what we are willed and commanded to defire and do, by
the Spirit of God in the Holy Scriptures. The Apoſtles indeed, and firſt Chriſtian Mi-
niſters, had another fort of Call, and were moved by the Holy Ghost, in much another
way and manner, to undertake the Miniſtry, than we, or any fince thoſe early Days,
can pretend to: They had Divine Impulfes, Warnings, Admonitions, Invitations,
and Calls to the Miniſtry, fuch as they could not refiſt, and ſuch as they themſelves
were fure came, and muſt come from God; and they were, moſt of them, able to
convince others alfo of their Heavenly Miffion, by fome extraordinary Powers and
Abilities they were endued withal, either of Languages, or Prophecy, or curing Sick-
neſs or Diſeaſes, or fuch like. But as we are fure that theſe extraordinary Calls and
Graces of the Holy Spirit were not promiſed to continue for ever, and fure that in
fact they did not continue long, in the Church; fo we are ſure that this is not the in-
ward Call, and Movement of the Holy Ghoſt, that the Church enquires after, in the
4 A a a
Queſtion
778
A Charge delivered to the Clergy
Queſtion fhe puts to fuch as are Candidates for Holy Orders; for that muſt
be fomething that is promiſed; and fomething that is to continue as long as the
Church is to continue; and that will be always neceffary to its Well-being: And that,
I think, is only fuch a general Influence of God's Spirit, as ſhall incline a Man's Heart
to undertake the Office of the Miniſtry, and fill him with good Purpoſes and Refo-
lutions to execute it faithfully, to the Glory of God, and the Good of Mankind. This
is what is neceffary, this is what is promiſed, this is what we may expect: And he
that is not thus far called, he that does not find himſelf inwardly moved by the Holy
Ghoſt, in this Degree and Meaſure, is very unfit indeed to enter into Holy Orders.
But I both hope and believe, there are very few fuch, as do not come with good In-
clinations, and ſerious Purpoſes to do their Duty, and anſwer their Engagements; al-
tho' I fear there are too many that forget them quickly.
It may not, perhaps, be thought ſo convenient, to have infifted ſo much upon a
Matter that has been ſo long paſt, by moſt of thoſe People who make up the proper
Audience upon theſe Occafions; and to dwell on a Queſtion that has received its An-
fwer fo long ago, by moſt here prefent. But, as my Purpoſe is, if it pleaſe God to
continue my
Life, to confider the whole of our Engagement when we enter on the
Miniſtry, ſo it was neceſſary to ſpeak to the firſt Queſtion and Anſwer that is made,
in a more particular Manner; as well becauſe the Queſtion is put in Terms that run
exceeding high, and are of much greater Sound than Importance, and therefore re-
quires to be very well confidered and underſtood; as alſo becauſe it gave me an Oppor-
tunity of reconciling the being inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to undertake the Office
of the Miniſtry, with the being moved alſo at the fame time by the Hopes of living by
that Miniſtry: Which Difficulty fome learned and good Men have rather puzzled and
perplexed, than removed; and others have been afraid to ſpeak their Opinions clearly
and diſtinctly, for fear of encouraging a Worldly Spirit too much. But all they
have got thereby, has been to beget Scruples in tender Minds, and to make Men
afraid, when the Thing is over, that they have not acted upon right Principles. But
Truth I think, in this Cafe, can have no ill Confequences. "Tis God that inftituted
the Holy Offices; 'tis God that annexed a Reward to the Performance of them: 'Tis
God that puts it into People's Hearts to defire to undertake theſe Offices, and to qua-
lify themſelves for the well-difcharging them. How can it therefore be unlaw-
ful to defire the Recompence together with the Office, when I do feriouſly intend to
deſerve the Recompence as well as I can, by executing and diſcharging the Office as
well as I can alſo? And how ſhould it be difficult for a ſerious honeſt Man, to ſay he
truſts he is inwardly moved by the Holy Ghoſt, to undertake the Office of the Mi-
niſtry, if he does ſeriouſly intend to difcharge it carefully and faithfully; and qualifies
himſelf, in the beſt manner he can, to do fo? Since it is from the Holy Scriptures
alone (the Dictates of the Holy Ghoſt) that he learns there is fuch an Office, and
that it is ſo good and acceptable a thing to God, to teach Men their Duty, and lead
them in the Way that bringeth them to everlasting Life; and fince no good Defire of
doing Good can proceed from any one, but from the Bleffed Spirit, who worketh in
us both to will and to do, according to his good pleasure?
But however, that the infifting ſo long on the clear Solution of this Queſtion, may
not appear to be altogether without its Ufe, even in Affemblies of this fort, made up
of Men who have already given their Anfwer to it, not to be revoked, it may not be
amiſs to obſerve, in a few Words, that the readieft way to find out whether we made
a true and proper Anfwer to this Queſtion, will be, to examine and confider, what our
Conduct in the Miniſtry has been, fince we were called to our good Office. It would
not, perhaps, be eafy for many of thoſe who have been long engaged, to remember
the
I
of the Dioceſe of Ely, in Auguſt, 1722.
779
the particular Frame and Difpofition of Mind, with which they entred firſt upon the
Service: But every body's Heart will tell him, how he has behaved himſelf, in gene-
ral, in that Service; ſo that tho' he ſhould forget his firſt Reſolutions, yet he will cer-
tainly remember how he has fulfilled them, or neglected them, fince they were made.
And it were well, if many of thoſe who have the Satisfaction of remembring that they
entred on the Miniftry with a right Heart, with holy Purpoſes, and with a good
Degree of Zeal to promote the Glory of God, and the Edification of his People, could
not remember alfo with Concern, how many Checks thoſe Hearts have fince given
them, for their Forgetfulneſs, their Careleffneſs, and faulty Negligence, in the Dif
charges of their ſeveral Duties; what Relaxation of their Vigour, and what Abate-
ment of their Zeal they have experienced, in the practic Part, beyond what they in-
tended or could think would ever happen. This, I doubt, is the Cafe of moſt of us,
and even of thoſe whofe Hearts do beft affure them, that they gave a true and proper
Anſwer to the Queſtion, when it was firſt made.
It may therefore be of ufe to all of us, to reconfider a Queſtion, whofe Anſwer
will furniſh us, either with Matter of Thankfulneſs to God, for guiding and preſerv-
ing us ſo long in the good Way; or (which is next to be defired) with Motives to Re-
pentance, and Amendment of our paft Mifcarriages, and the Renewal of our ferious
Purpoſes, and Vows of all Obedience for the future.
N. B.
The following LETTER from My Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, together
with the ORDERS and RESOLUTION S adjoined, were Printed and delivered to
the Clergy of this Dioceſe, in 1716. But, many of them having been either forgotten
or neglected, I have again Printed and annexed them to this CHARGE, and do
again recommend the due Obfervation of them, to all who belong to me, and are
concerned in them.
1
ΤΟ
780
TO THE
Right Reverend Father in GOD
!
THE
Lord Biſhop of EL Y
My very GOOD LORD,
B
EING by the Providence of God called to the Metropolitical See of this Pro-
vince, I thought it incumbent upon me to confult as many of my Brethren, the
Biſhops of the fame Province, as were here met together during this Seffion of
Parliament, in what manner we might beſt employ that Authority, which the
Ecclefiaftical Laws now in Force, and the Customs and Laws of this Realm, have vested
in us, for the Honour of God, and for the Edification of his Church, committed to our
Charge: And upon ferious Confideration of this matter, we all of us agreed in the fame
Opinion, that we fhould, by the Bleffing of God upon our honeft Endeavours, in fome mea-
fure promote thofe good Ends, by taking care (as much as in us lieth) that no unworthy
Perfon might hereafter be admitted into the Sacred Miniſtry of the Church; nor any
be allowed to ferve as Curates, but fuch as fhould appear to be duly qualified for fuch
an Employ; and that all who officiated in the Room of any abfent Miniſters, ſhould
refide upon the Cures which they undertook to fupply; and be afcertained of a fuita-
ble Recompence for their Labours.
In pursuance of thofe Refolutions, to which we unanimously agreed, I do now very
earnestly recommend to you;
TH
I.
'HAT you require of every Perfon who defires to be admitted to Holy Orders,
that he fignify to you his Name and Place of Abode, and tranſmit to you his
Teſtimonial, and a Certificate of his Age duly atteſted, with the Title upon which
he is to be ordained, at leaft Twenty Days before the time of Ordination; and that
he appear on Wedneſday, or at fartheſt on Thurſday in Ember-Week, in order to his
Examination.
II.
THAT if you ſhall reject any Perfon, who applies for Holy Orders, upon the
account of Immorality proved againſt him, you fignify the Name of the Perfon ſo
rejected, with the Reaſon of your rejecting him, to me within one Month; that ſo I
may acquaint the reſt of my Suffragans with the Caſe of ſuch rejected Perfon before
the next Ordination.
III.
THAT you admit not any Perfon to Holy Orders, who having refided any
confiderable Time out of the Univerfity, does not fend to you, with his Teftimonial,
a Certificate figned by the Minifter, and other credible Inhabitants of the Pariſh,
where
A LETTER from the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
781
where he fo refided, expreffing that Notice was given in the Church, in Time of Di-
vine Service, on fome Sunday, at leaſt a Month before the Day of Ordination, of
his Intention to offer himſelf to be ordained at fuch a Time; to the end that any
Perfon, who knows any Impediment, or Notable Crime, for the which he ought not
to be ordained, may have Opportunity to make his Objections againſt him.
IV.
THAT you admit no Letters Teftimonial, on any Occafion whatſoever, unleſs
it be therein expreffed, for what particular End, and Defign, fuch Letters were gran-
ted; nor unleſs it be declared by thoſe who ſhall fign them, that they have Perfonally
known the Life and Behaviour of the Perfon for the Time by them certified; and do
believe in their Confcience, that he is qualified for that Order, Office, or Employ-
ment, to which he defires to be admitted.
V.
THAT in all Teftimonials fent from any College or Hall, in either of the Uni-
verfities, you expect that they be figned, as well as fealed; and that among the Perfons
figning, the Governor of fuch College, or Hall, or, in his Abfence, the next Per-
fon under fuch Governor, with the Dean, or Reader of Divinity, and the Tutor of
the Perfon to whom the Teſtimonial is granted, (fuch Tutor being in the College, and
fuch Perfon being under the Degree of Maſter of Arts,) do ſubſcribe their Names.
VI.
THAT you admit not any Perfon to Holy Orders upon Letters Dimiffory, unleſs
they are granted by the Biſhop himſelf, or Guardian of the Spiritualities Sede vacante,
nor unless it be expreffed in fuch Letters, that he who grants them has fully fatisfied
himſelf of the Title, and Converſation of the Perſon, to whom the Letter is granted.
VII.
THAT you make diligent Enquiry concerning Curates in your Dioceſe, and
pro-
ceed to Ecclefiaftical Cenfures againſt thoſe who ſhall prefume to ferve Cures with-
out being firſt duly Licenſed thereunto; as alſo againſt all ſuch Incumbents who ſhall
receive and employ them, without firſt obtaining ſuch Licence.
VIII.
THAT you do not by any means admit of any Miniſter, who removes from ano-
ther Dioceſe, to ferve as a Curate in yours, without Teſtimony of the Biſhop of that
Dioceſe, or Ordinary of the peculiar Jurifdiction, from whence he comes, in Wri-
ting, of his Honefty, Ability, and Conformity to the Ecclefiaftical Laws of the
Church of England.
IX.
THAT you do not allow any Miniſter to ſerve more than one Church, or Chapel,
in one Day, except that Chapel be a Member of the Pariſh Church, or united there-
unto; and unleſs the faid Church, or Chapel, where fuch a Minifter fhall ferve in
two Places, be not able in your Judgment to maintain a Curate.
X.
THAT in the Inftrument of Licence granted to any Curate, you appoint him a
fufficient Salary, according to the Power vefted in you by the Laws of the Church, and
the particular Direction of a late Act of Parliament for the better Maintenance of Cu-
rates.
4 Bb b
THAT
782
A LETTER from the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
XI.
THAT in Licences to be granted to Perfons to ſerve any Cure, you caufe to be in-
férted, after the mention of the particular Cure provided for by fuch Licence, a Clauſe
to this Effect, or in any other Parish within the Dioceſe, to which fuch Curate ſhall re-
move with the Confent of the Bishop.
XII.
THAT you take care, as much as is poffible, that whofoever is admitted to ſerve
any Cure, do refide in the Pariſh where he is to ferve; eſpecially in Livings that are
able to ſupport a Refident Curate: And where that cannot be done, that they do at
leaft refide ſo near to the Place, that they may conveniently perform all their Duties
both in the Church and Parifh.
THESE, My Lord, were the Orders and Refolutions, to which we all agreed; and
which I do hereby tranfmit to you; defiring you to communicate them to the Clergy of your
Diocese, with an Affurance that you are refolved, by the Grace of God, to direct your
Practice, in thefe Particulars, agreeably thereunto. And fo commending you to the Bleffing
of God in theſe, and all your other pious Endeavours for the Service of his Church, I hear-
tily remain,
WESTMINSTER,
June 5, 1716,
My very Good LORD,
Your truly affectionate Brother,
FINI S.
W. CANT.
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·
BOOKS printed for D. MIDWINTER, A. BETTESWORTH and C. HITCH,
J. PEMBERTON, R. WARE, T. WARD, C. RIVINGTON, F. CLAY,
J. BATLEY and J. WOOD, A. WARD, J. and P. KNAPTON,
T. LONGMAN, R. HETT, E. WICKSTEED, and M. DOWNING.
HE Works of Archbiſhop Tillotson, in three Volumes, Folio.
TH
Biſhop Blackall's Sermons, two Volumes, Folio.
Biſhop Patrick's Commentary on the hiftorical Books of the Old Teftament, 2 Volumes, Folio.
Paraphrafe on the Pfalms, Proverbs, &c. Folio.
Lowth's Commentary on the Prophets, Folio.
Whitby's Commentary on the New Teftament, two Volumes, Folio.
Calmet's Hiftorical, Critical, Geographical, Chronological, and Etymological Dictionary of
the Holy Bible, in three Volumes, Folio.
Bedford's Scripture Chronology, Folio.
Camden's Britannia, reviſed, digeſted, and publiſhed, with large Additions: By Edmund
Lord Biſhop of London, two Volumes, Folio.
Bayle's Hiſtorical and Critical Dictionary, in English, Folio.
Harris's Lexicon Technicum, two Volumes, Folio.
Biſhop Bull's Works, four Volumes, Octavo.
Biſhop of London's Three Paftoral Letters to the People of his Dioceſe, Twelves.
A Defence of Chriſtianity from the Prophecies of the Old Teſtament; in Anſwer to a late
Diſcourſe of the Grounds and Reafons of the Chriftian Religion. By Edward Lord Biſhop of
Durham. Octavo.
A Vindication of the Defence of Chriſtianity, &c. in Anfwer to the Scheme of Literal Pro-
phecy confider'd. By Edward Lord Biſhop of Durham. Octavo.
A Vindication of the Miracles of our Bleffed Saviour; in Anſwer to Mr. Woolfton's Six Dif-
courfes. By Richard Lord Biſhop of Lichfield and Coventry. In two Volumes, Octavo.
Pfalmorum Liber, in Verficulos metricè divifus, & cum aliis Critices fubfidiis, tum præcipuè
Metricis ope, multis in locis integritati fuæ reftitutus. Cum Differtatione de antiqua He-
bræorum Poëfi, aliifque quæfitis, ad Pfalmorum Librum pertinentibus. Ad finem Operis
adjecta funt Poëfeos Hebraicæ Specimina, ex iis quæ ediderunt F. Gomarus, M. Meibomius,
& J. Clericus. Edidit Francifcus Hare, S. T. P. Epifcopus Ciceftrenfis. 2 Vol. Octavo.
Biſhop Stilling fleet's Miſcellaneous Difcourfes. Octavo.
The Reaſonableneſs of Conformity to the Church of England, with a Defence of Epifcopal
Ordination. By Benjamin Lord Biſhop of Winchester. Octavo.
Eighteen Diſcourſes concerning the Terms of Acceptance with God. By Benjamin Lord
Biſhop of Winchester. Octavo.
Sermons on ſeveral Subjects: By Samuel Clarke, D. D. Publiſhed from the Author's MS. by
John Clarke, D. D. Dean of Sarum. With a Preface, giving fome Account of the Life,
Writings, and Character of the Author; by Benjamin Lord Biſhop of Winchester. In
10 Volumes, Octavo.
Eighteen Sermons on feveral Occafions. By Samuel Clarke, D. D. publiſhed by himſelf. In
one Volume, Olavo.
The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Conſtitution and Courſe of Nature.
By Jofeph Buller, LL. D. Rector of Stanhope, and Clerk of the Cloſet to Her Majefty.
The Second Edition. Octavo.
Dr. Butler's
BOOKS printed for D. MIDWINTER, &C.
Dr. Butler's Sermons at the Rolls Chapel. The Third Edition. Octavo.
Dr. Wells's Paraphrafe on all the Books of the Old and New Teftament. In fix Volumes,
Quarto.
Hiſtorical Geography of the Old and New Teftament. In four Volumes, Octavo.
Howell's History of the Bible, with Cuts. Three Volumes, Octavo.
The Practical Juftice of Peace. By Jofeph Shaw of the Middle Temple Efq; In two Volumes,
Octavo. The Third Edition.
Nelfon's Companion for the Feſtivals and Fafts of the Church of England. Octavo.
Biſhop Burnet's Difcourfe of the Paftoral Care. Octavo.
Cafes in Law and Equity, chiefly during the Time the late Earl of Macclesfield prefided in the
Courts of King's-Bench and Chancery. Folio.
Lowthorp's and Jones's Abridgment of the Philofophical Tranfactions. Five Volumes, Quarto.
Sprat's Hiftory of the Royal Society. Quarto.
Shaw's Abridgment of Lord Bacon's Works. Three Volumes, Quarto.
Echard's Roman Hiftory. Five Volumes, Octavo.
Stanhope's St. Auſtin's Meditations. Octavo..
-Thomas à Kempis, Of the Imitation of Chriſt. Octavo.
Puffendorf's Law of Nature and Nations. Folio.
Lilly's Practical Regifter. In two Volumes, Folio.
Practical Conveyancer. In two Volumes, Folio.
Nelfon's 'Rights of the Clergy. Octavo.
Wright's Obfervations in travelling through France, Italy, &c. In two Volumes, Quarto.
The Works of John Locke, Efq; In three Volumes, Folio.
Hooker's Ecclefiaftical Polity. Folio.
Biſhop Burnet's Expofition of the Thirty-nine Articles. Folio.
Abridgment of his Hiſtory of the Reformation. In three Volumes, Twelves.
Brandt's Hiftory of the Reformation in the Low Countries. In four Volumes, Folio.
Cambridge Concordance. Folio.
Homeri Ilias Græcè & Latinè. Annotationes in ufum Sereniffimi Principis Gulielmi Auguſti
Ducis de Cumberland, &c. Regio juffu fcripfit atque edidit Samuel Clarke, S. T. P. In
two Volumes, Oitavo.
A Treatife of Military Difcipline: By Humphrey Bland, Efq; Octavo.
Dr. Adam Littleton's Latin and English Dictionary. Quarto.
A Treatiſe concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality. By Ralph Cudworth, D. D. for-
merly Maſter of Chrift's College in Cambridge. With a Preface by Edward Lord Biſhop of
Durham. Octavo.
r
AI
A Paraphrafe on the Four Evangelifts. By Samuel Clarke, D. D. In two Volumes, Octavo.
T
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