Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

fection and advancement of our reason, to the enriching and ennobling of our souls. Secluding that, we have nothing in the world to study, to affect, to pursue, not very mean and below us, not very base and misbecoming us, as men of reason and judgment. What have we to do but to eat and drink, like horses or like swine; but to sport and play, like children or apes; but to bicker and scuffle about trifles and impertinences, like idiots? what, but to scrape or scramble for useless pelf; to hunt after empty shows and shadows of honour, or the vain fancies and dreams of men? what but to wallow or bask in sordid pleasures, the which soon degenerate into remorse and bitterness? To which sort of employments were a man confined, what a pitiful thing would he be, and how inconsiderable were his life! Were a man designed only, like a fly, to buzz about here for a time, sucking in the air, and licking the dew, then soon to vanish back into nothing, or to be transformed into worms; how sorry and despicable a thing were he! And such, without religion, we should be. But it supplieth us with business of a most worthy nature and lofty importance; it setteth us upon doing things great and noble as can be; it engageth us to free our minds from all fond conceits, and cleanse our hearts from all corrupt affections; to curb our brutish appetites, to tame our wild passions, to correct our perverse inclinations, to conform the dispositions of our soul and the actions of our life to the eternal laws of righteousness and goodness: it putteth us upon the imitation of God, and aiming at the resemblance of his perfections; upon obtaining a friendship and maintaining a correspondence with the High and Holy One; upon fitting our minds for conversation and society with the wisest and purest spirits above; upon providing for an immortal state, upon the acquist of joy and glory everlasting it employeth us in the divinest actions, of promoting virtue, of performing beneficence, of serving the public, and doing good to all: the being exercised in which things doth indeed render a man highly considerable, and his life excellently valuable.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

us: in pursuing which, we greatly better ourselves, and improve our condition; we benefit and oblige others; we procure sound reputation and steady friendships; we decline many irksome mischiefs and annoyances; we do not, like those in the Prophet, spend our labour for that which satisfieth not, nor spend our money for that which is not bread for both temporal prosperity and eternal felicity are the wages of the labour which we take herein.

It is an employment most constant, never allowing sloth or listlessness to creep in, incessantly busying all our faculties with earnest contention; according to that profession of St. Paul, declaring the nature thereof, Herein always do I exercise myself, to have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man. Whence it is called a fight, and a race, implying the continual earnestness of attention and activity, which is to be spent thereon.

It is withal a sweet and grateful business: for it is a pious man's character, that he delighteth greatly in God's commandments ;2 that the commandments are not grievous to him; that it is his meat and drink to do God's will; that God's words (or precepts) are sweeter than honey to his taste; that the ways of religious wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. Whereas all other employments are wearisome, and soon become loathsome; this, the farther we proceed in it, the more plea sant and satisfactory it groweth.* There is perpetual matter of victory over bad inclinations pestering us within, and strong temptations assailing us without: which to combat hath much delight; to master, breedeth unexpressible content. The sense also of God's love, the influences of his grace and comfort communicated in the perfor mances of devotion and all duty, the satisfaction of a good conscience, the assured hope of reward, the foretastes of future bliss, do season and sweeten all the labours taken, and all the difficulties undergone herein.

In fine, the bare light of nature hath discerned, that were it not for such matters as these to spend a man's care and pains upon, this would be a lamentable world to live in. There was, for instance, an emperor great and mighty as ever did wield sceptre upon earth, whose excellent virtue, coupled with wisdom (inferior, perhaps, to

It is an employment most proper to us as reasonable men. For what more proper entertainments can our mind have, than to be purifying and beautifying itself, to be keeping itself and its subordinate faculties in order, to be attending upon the management of thoughts, of passions, of words, of magis juvarent. - Quint. i. 12. actions depending upon its governance?

It is an employment most beneficial to

*Non potest cuiquam semper idem placere, nisi rectum. Sen. 20.

Dedit hoc providentia hominibus munus, ut honesta

Isa. lv. 2.

y Acts xxiv. 16. 1 John v. 3. b John iv. 34.

d Prov. iii. 17.

Psal. cxii. !.
Psal. cxix. 103.

*

none that any man ever, without special inspiration, hath been endowed with), did qualify him with most advantage to examine and rightly to judge of things here; who, notwithstanding all the conveniences which his royal estate and well-settled prosperity night afford (the which surely he had fully tasted and tried), did yet thus express his thoughts: Τί μοι ζῆν ἐν κόσμῳ κενῷ θεῶν, ἢ govoías xe; What doth it concern me to live in a world void of God, or void of Providence? To govern the greatest empire that ever was, in the deepest calm; to enjoy the largest affluences of wealth, of splendour, of respect, of pleasure; to be loved, to be dreaded, to be served, to be adored by so many nations; to have the whole civil world obsequious to his will and nod: all these things seemed vain and idle, not worthy of a man's regard, affection, or choice, in case there were no God to worship, no providence to observe, no piety to be exercised. So little worth the while common sense hath adjudged it to live without ligion.

to resort in need; upon him he may, he ought to discharge all his cares and burdens.

It consequently doth engage all creatures in the world to be our friends, or instruments of good to us, according to their several capacities, by the direction and disposal of God. All the servants of our great Friend will, in compliance to him, be serviceable to us: Thou shalt be in league with the stones of the field, and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee: so Job's friend promiseth him, upon condition of piety. And God himself confirmeth that promise: In that day, saith he in the Prophet, will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and with the creeping things of the ground. And again, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the re-flame kindle upon thee. And, The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder, the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot. They shall take up scorpions, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them: (so our Lord promised to his disciples.) Not only the heavens shall dispense their kindly influences, and the earth yield her plentiful stores, and all the elements discharge their natural and ordinary good offices: nor only the tame and sociable creatures shall upon this condition faithfully serve us; but even the most wild, most fierce, most ravenous, most venomous creatures shall, if there be need, prove friendly and helpful, or at least harmless to us; as were the ravens to Elias, the lions to Daniel, the viper to St. Paul, the fire to the three children."

V. It is a considerable benefit of piety, that it affordeth the best friendships and sweetest society. Man is framed for society, and cannot live well without it: many of his faculties would be useless, many of his appetites would rest unsatisfied in solitude.† To have a friend wise and able, honest and good, unto whom upon all occasions we may have recourse for advice, for assistance, for consolation, is a great convenience of life and this benefit we owe to religion, which supplieth us with various friendships of the best kind, most beneficial and most sweet unto us.‡

It maketh God our friend, a friend infinitely better than all friends, most affectionate and kind, most faithful and sure, most able, most willing, and ever most ready to perform all friendly offices, to yield advice in all our doubts, succour in all our needs, comfort in all our troubles, satisfaction to all our desires. Unto him it ministereth a free address upon all occasions; with him it alloweth us continually a most sweet and pleasant intercourse. The pious man hath always the all-wise God to counsel him, to guide his actions and order his steps; he hath the Almighty to protect, support, and relieve him; he hath the immense Goodness to commiserate and comfort him: unto him he is not only encouraged, but obliged

[blocks in formation]

But especially piety doth procure the friendship of the good angels, that puissant host of glorious and happy spirits: " they all do tenderly love the pious person; they are ever ready to serve and do him good, to protect him from danger, to aid him in his undertakings, to rescue him from mischiefs. What an honour, what a blessing is this, to have such an innumerable company of noble friends (the courtiers and favourites of heaven) deeply concerned and constantly vigilant for our welfare!

It also engageth the blessed saints in

• Prov. xii. 2; Psal. xxxiv. 15; xxxiii. 18; cxlv. 19; Xxxvii. 28; Job xxxvi. 7. f Job v. 23.

g Hos. ii. 18.

h Isa. xliii. 2.

1 Psal. cxxi. 6.
Psal. xci. 13.

I Mark xvi. 18; Deut. xxviii. 12.

m1 Kings xvii. 6.

Psal. xxxiv. 7; xci. 11; Heb. i. 14.

glory, the spirits of just men perfected, the church of the first-born, to bear dearest affection to us, to further our prosperity with their good wishes and earnest prayers, mightily prevalent with God.

It rendereth all sorts of men our friends. To good men it uniteth us in holy communion; the communion of brotherly charity and hearty good-will, attended with all the good offices they are able to perform: to other men it reconcileth and endeareth us; for that innocent and inoffensive, courteous and benign, charitable and beneficent demeanour (such as piety doth require and produce), are apt to conciliate respect and affection from the worst men. For, Vincit malos pertinax bonitas;* men hardly can persist enemies to him whom they perceive to be their friend: and such the pious man in disposition of mind, and in effect when occasion serveth, is toward all men ;f being sensible of his obligation to love all men, and, as he hath opportunity, to do good to | all men. It assureth and more strictly endeareth our friends to us. For, as it maketh us hearty, faithful, constant friends to others, so it reciprocally tieth others to us in the like sincerity and fastness of goodwill.‡

It reconcileth enemies. For, when a man's ways do please the Lord, he maketh his enemies to be at peace with him. It hath a natural efficacy to that purpose, and Divine blessing promoteth it.

By it all conversation becometh tolerable, grateful, and useful. For a pious man is not easily disturbed with any crossness or perverseness, any infirmity or impertinency of those he converseth with: he can bear the weaknesses and the failings of his company; he can by wholesome reflections upon all occurrences advantage and please himself.§

In fine, piety rendereth a man a true friend and a good companion to himself; satisfied in himself, able to converse freely and pleasantly with his own thoughts. It is for the want of pious inclinations and dispositions, that solitude (a thing which sometimes cannot be avoided, which often should be embraced) is to most men so irksome and tedious, that men do carefully shun themselves, and fly from their own thoughts; that they decline all converse

[blocks in formation]

|

*

with their own souls, and hardly dare look upon their own hearts and consciences: whence they become aliens from home, wholly unacquainted with themselves, most ignorant of their own nearest concernments, no faithful friends or pleasant companions to themselves; so for refuge and ease they unseasonably run into idle or lewd conversation, where they disorder and defile themselves. But the pious man is, like Scipio, never less alone than when alone: † his solitude and retirement is not only tolerable, but commonly the most grateful and fruitful part of his life: he can ever with much pleasure, and more advantage, converse with himself; digesting and marshalling his thoughts, his affections, his purposes, into good order; searching and discussing his heart; reflecting on his past ways, enforcing his former good resolutions, and framing new ones; inquiring after edifying truths; stretching his meditations toward the best and sublimest objects, raising his hopes and warming his affections towards spiritual and heavenly things; asking himself pertinent questions, and resolving incident doubts concerning his practice: in fine, conversing with his best Friend in devotion; with admiration and love contemplating the divine perfections displayed in the works of nature, of providence, of grace; praising God for his excellent benefits and mercies; confessing his defects and offences; deprecating wrath and imploring pardon, with grace and ability to amend; praying for the supply of all his wants. All which performances yield both unconceivable benefit and unexpressible comfort. So that solitude (that which is to common nature so offensive, to corrupt nature so abominable) is to the pious man extremely commodious and comfortable: which is a great advantage peculiar to piety, and the last which I shall mention.

So many, and many more than I can express, vastly great and precious advantages do accrue from piety; so that well may we conclude with St. Paul, that Godliness is profitable for all things.

* Nemo est, cui non satius sit cum quolibet esse, quam secum.— Sen. Ep. 25.

Ενιοι τον ίδιον βίον, ὡς ἀτερπέστατον θέαμα, προσιδείν οὐχ ὑπομένουσιν, &c. Plut. τιςὶ Πολυτς, Ρ. 916. Ζητοῦσιν οἱ μοχθηροί μεθ' ὧν συνημερεύσουσιν, ἑαυτοὺς δὲ CityOUT - Arist. ix. 4.

Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus. Acquiescit sibi, cogitationibus suls traditus.— Sen. Ep. 9.

Sapiens nunquam solus esse potest, habet secum omnes qui sunt, quique unquam fuerunt boni; et animum liberum quocunque vult transfert; quod corpore non potest, cogitatione complectitur; et si hominum inops fuerit, loquitur cum Deo. Nunquam minus solus erit, quani cum solus fuerit.- Hier. ada Jocin. i. 28.

It remaineth that, if we be wise, we should, if we yet have it not ingraffed in us, labour to acquire it; if we have it, that we should endeavour to improve it, by constant exercise, to the praise of God, the good of our neighbour, and our own comfort. Which that we may effectually perform, Almighty God in mercy vouchsafe, by his grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom for ever be all glory and praise. Amen.

SERMON IV.

THE REWARD OF HONOURING GOD.

|

Yea, it often prevails over the love of life itself, which men do not only frequently expose to danger, but sometimes devote to certain loss, for its sake. If we observe what is done in the world, we may discern it to be the source of most undertakings therein: that it not only moveth the wheels of public action (that not only for it great princes contend, great armies march, great battles are fought;) but that from it most private business derives its life and vigour : that for honour especially, the soldier under. goes hardship, toil, and hazard; the scholar plods and beats his brains; the merchant runs about so busily, and adventures so far ;

1 SAM. ii. 30.- For them that honour me yea, that for its sake the meanest labourer

I will honour.

THE words are in the strictest sense the word of God, uttered immediately by God himself; and may thence command from us an especial attention and regard. The history of that which occasioned them is, I presume, well known; neither shall I make any descant or reflection thereon; but to take the words separately, as a proposition of itself, affording a complete instruction and ample matter of discourse. And as such, they plainly imply two things: a duty required of us to honour God; and a reward proffered to us, upon performance of that duty, being honoured by God. It is natural for us, before we are willing to undertake any work, to consider the reward or benefit accruing from it; and it is necessary, before we can perform any duty, to understand the nature thereof. To this our method of action I shall suit the method of my discourse; first endeavouring to estimate the reward, then to explain the duty. Afterward I mean to show briefly why in reason the duty is enjoined; how in effect the reward is conferred.

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

and artificer doth spend his sweat, and stretch his sinews. The principal drift of all this care and industry (the great reason of all this scuffling for power, this searching for knowledge, this scraping and scrambling for wealth) doth seem to be, that men would live in some credit, would raise themselves above contempt.*

In such request, of such force, doth honour appear to be. If we examine why, we may find more than mere fashion (or mutual imitation and consent) to ground the experiment upon. There is one obvious reason why no mean regard should be had thereto; its great convenience and usefulness: for that a man cannot himself live safely, quietly, or pleasantly, without some competent measure thereof; cannot well serve the public, perform offices of duty to his relations, of kindness to his friends, of charity to his neighbours, but under its protection, and with its aid: it being an engine very requisite for the ma naging any business, for the compassing any design, at least sweetly and smoothly; it procuring to us many furtherances in our proceedings, removing divers obstacles out of our way, guarding a man's person from offences, adding weight to his words, putting an edge upon his endeavours: for every one allows a favourable ear to his discourse, lends an assisting hand to his attempts, grants a ready credence to his testimony, and makes a fair construction.

Ιδοις δ ̓ ἂν καὶ τῶν ἰδιωτῶν τοὺς ἐπιεικεστάτους, ὑπὲς ἀλη λου μὲν οὐδενὸς ἄν τὸ ζῆν ἀντικαταλλαξαμένους· ὑπὲς δὲ τοῦ τυχεῖν καλῆς δόξης, ἀποθνήσκειν ἐθέλοντας. — Isocr, Orat. ad Philip.

tum æquissimo animo appetitur, cum suis se

1. For itself, it is honour; a thing, if valued according to the rate it bears in the common market, of highest price among all the objects of human desire; the chief reward which the greatest actions and which the best actions do pretend unto, or are capable of; that which usually bears most sway in the hearts, and hath strong-laudibus vita occidens consolari potest.-Cic. i. Tusc. est influence upon the lives of men; the desire of obtaining and maintaining which doth commonly overbear other most potent inclinations. The love of pleasure stoops thereto for men, to get or keep reputation, will decline the most pleasant enjoy-air ments, will embrace the hardest pains,

- Laudis avidi pecunize liberales erant, gloriam ingentem divitias honestas volebant; hanc ardentissime dilexerunt, propter hanc vivere voluerunt, pro hac et

mori non dubitaverunt. Cæteras cupiditates hujus

unius ingenti cupiditate presserunt, Aug. de Ĉic,
Dei, v. 12.

Αἱ γὰρ δυναστείαι καὶ ὁ πλοῦτος διὰ τὴν τιμήν ἐστιν
Arist. Eth, iv. 3.

gloria, &c. - Cic, Tusc. Quest. 1.

Honos alit artes, omnesque incenduntur ad stul

of his doings, whom he esteems and respects. So is honour plainly valuable among the bona utilia, as no small accommodation of life; and as such, reason approves it to our judgment.*

But searching farther, we shall find the appetite of honour to have a deeper ground, and that it is rooted even in our nature itself. For we may descry it budding forth in men's first infancy (before the use of reason, or speech;) even little children being ambitious to be made much of, maintaining among themselves petty emulations and competitions, as it were about punctilios of honour.† We may observe it growing with age, waxing bigger and stronger together with the increase of wit and knowledge, of civil culture and experience; that the maturest age doth most resent and relish it; that it prevails most in civilized nations; that men of the best parts, of the highest improvements, of the weightiest employments, do most zealously affect it and stand upon it; that they who most struggle with it, do most feel its might, how difficult it is to resist and restrain it, how impossible it is to stifle or extinguish it. For the philosopher, with all his reasons and considerations, cannot dispute it down, or persuade it away; the anchoret cannot, with all his austerities, starve it, or by his retirement shun it; no affliction, no poverty, no wretchedness of condition, can totally suppress it. It is a spirit that not only haunts our courts and palaces, but frequents our schools and cloisters; yea, creeps into cottages, into hospitals, into prisons, and even dogs men into deserts and solitudes; so close it sticks to our nature.‡ Plato saith, it is the last coat which a wise man doth put off. But I question whether he could show us that wise man who had done it, or could tell us where he dwelt, except perhaps in his own Utopian republic. For they who most pretend to have done it (who in their discourse most vilify honour; who talk like Chrysippus, that a wise man for reputation sake will not so much as stretch out his finger; § or like Seneca, that we should do every thing purely for conscience sake, without any regard to men's opinion;

[blocks in formation]

| who make harangues and write volumes against glory*) do yet appear by their practice, sometimes, by so doing, to aim at it: even as men do usually complain of and eagerly quarrel with that which they most affect and woo. Chrysippus wrote, as we are told, above 700 books, most of them concerning logical quirks, and such as one can hardly imagine what other drift he could have in composing them, besides ostentation of his subtilty and sharpness of wit. Seneca, if history do not wrong him, and the face of his actions do not misrepresent him, was not in his heart exempt from a spice of ambition. Yea, that excellent emperor M. Aurelius, who would often speak like a Stoic, could not but commonly act like a man; more by his practice commending honour, than he disparaged it in his words. For story represents him very careful and jealous of his credit, very diligent to preserve it and to repair it. Tertullian calls such philosophers negotiatores fama, merchants for fame :§ and it is perchance some part of their cunning in that trade, which makes them strive to beat down the price of this commodity, that they may more easily engross it to themselves. However, experience proves that such words are but words (words spoken out of affectation and pretence, rather than in good earnest and acaccording to truth;) that endeavours to banish or to extirpate this desire are but fond and fruitless attempts. The reason why is clear: for it is as if one should dispute against eating and drinking, or should labour to free himself from hunger and thirst: the appetite of honour being indeed, as that of food, innate unto us, so as not to be quenched or smothered, except by some violent distemper or indisposition of mind; even by the wise Author of our nature originally implanted therein, for very good ends and uses, respecting both the private and public benefit of men; as an engagement to virtue, and a restraint from vice; as an excitement of industry, an incentive of courage, a support of constancy in the prosecution of worthy enterprises; as a serviceable instrument for the constitution, conservation, and improve

Nihil opinionis causa, omnia conscientiæ faciam. -Sen de V. B. Nil sit illi cum ambitione famaque commune, sibi placeat.-Epist. 113.

Justum esse gratis oportet. Ib.

Id. de Ira, iii. 41.

+ Laert.

Erat famæ suæ curiosissimus, et male loquentium dictis vel literis vel sermone respondebat. - Capit. § Tert. Apol.

Ut quidam morbo aliquo et sensus stupore suavitatem cibi non sentiunt; sic libidinosi, avari, facinorosi veræ laudis gustum non habent.Cic. Philipp. 2.

« ElőzőTovább »