honey to his taste; that the ways of reli- | no providence to observe, no piety to be gious wisdom are ways of pleasantness, exercised. So little worth the while and all her paths are peace." Whereas common sense hath adjudged it to live all other employments are wearisome, without religion. and soon become loathsome; this, the farther we proceed in it, the more pleasant and satisfactory it groweth.* There is perpetual matter of victory over bad inclinations pestering us within, and strong temptations assailing us without: which to combat hath much delight; to master, breedeth unexpressible content. The sense also of God's love, the influences of his grace and comfort communicated in the performances 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 therein. 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 none that any man ever, without special inspiration, hath been endowed with), did qualify him with most advantage to examine and rightly to judge of things here; who, notwithstanding all the conveniences which his royal estate and well-settled prosperity might afford (the which surely he had fully tasted and tried), did yet thus express his thoughts: Tuo 5yr Ev xóoμọ xɛr Oɛv, agorolas zero; 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, 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 sweat 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 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 promis *Nullius boni sine socio jucunda possessio est.-Sen. Ep. 6. Ut aliarum rerum nobis innata dulcedo est, sic amicitiæ.-Sen. Ep. 9. • Prov. xii. 2; Psal. xxxiv. 15; xxxiii. 18; cxlv. 19; xxxvii. 28; Job xxxvi. 7. f Job v. 23. It rendereth all sorts of men our friends. To good men it uniteth us in holy com munion; 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 ;t being sensible of his obligation to love all men, and, as he hath opportunity, to do good to all men.o 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 fast eth him, upon condition of piety. And 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 glory, the spirits of just men perfected, the church of the first-born, to bear dearest affections to us, to further our prosperity with their good wishes and earnest prayers, mightily prevalent with God. Hos. ii. 18. i Psal. cxxi. 6. h Isa. xliii. 2. Mark xvi. 18; Deut. xxviii. 12. m 1 Kings xvii. 6. xci. 11; Heb. i. 14. 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 *Sen. de Benef. vii. 21. + Qui sibi amicus est, scito hunc amicum omnibus esse.-Sen. Ep. 6. Oi dy aboì hoeïç dλλñλots.—Arist. Eth. viii. 4. § Συνδιάγειν τε οὗτος ἑαυτῶ βούλεται· ἡδέως γὰρ αὐτὸ ποιεῖ. (Aristot. Eth. viii. 4.) Tv Te yap πεπραγμένων ἐπιτερπεῖς αἱ μνῆμαι, καὶ τῶν μελλόντων ἐλπίδες ἀγαθαί. || Quæris quid profecerim? amicus esse mihi " Psal. xxxiv. 7; cœpi.-Sen. Ep. 6. • Gal. vi. 10. P Prov. xvi. 7. 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. to most men so irksome and tedious, that | ances yield both unconceivable benefit men do carefully shun themselves, and fly from their own thoughts; that they decline all converse 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 It remaineth that, if we be wise, we man is, like Scipio, never less alone than should, if we yet have it not ingraffed in when alone :† his solitude and retirement us, labour to acquire it; if we have it, is not only tolerable, but commonly the that we should endeavour to improve it, most grateful and fruitful part of his life: by constant exercise, to the praise of he can ever with much pleasure, and God, the good of our neighbour, and our more advantage, converse with himself; own comfort. Which that we may effecdigesting and marshalling his thoughts, tually perform, Almighty God in mercy his affections, his purposes, into good vouchsafe, by his grace, through Jesus order; searching and discussing his heart; Christ our Lord; to whom for ever be reflecting on his past ways, enforcing all glory and praise. Amen. 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 SERMON IV. THE REWARD OF HONOURING GOD. I will honour. pertinent questions, and resolving inci- 1 SAM. ii. 30.—For them that honour me dent 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; depreciating wrath and imploring pardon, with grace and ability to amend; praying for the supply of all his wants. All which perform-ly, as a proposition of itself, affording a Ζητοῦσιν οἱ μοχθηροὶ μεθ' ὧν συνμπερεύσουσιν, ἑαυτοὺς δὲ φεύγουσιν.—Arist. ix. 4. Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus. Acquiescit sibi, cogitationibus suis traditus. Sen. Ep. 9. Sapiens nunquam solus esse potest, habet secum omnes qui sunt, quique unquam fuerunt boni; et annimum liberum quocunque vult transfert; quod corpore non potest, cogitatione complectitur; et si hominum inops fuerit, loquitur cum Deo. Nunquam minus solus erit, quam cum solus fuerit.—Hier. adv. Jovin. i. 28. THE words are in the strictest sense the complete instruction and ample matter of 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.) 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 managing any business, for the compassing any design, curing 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 of his doings, whom he esteems and respects. So is honour plainly valuable among the bona utila, as no small accommodation of life; and as such, reason approves it to our judgment.* 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 strongest influence upon the lives of men; the desire of obtaining and maintaining which doth commonly at least sweetly and smoothly; it prooverbear other most potent inclinations. The love of pleasure stoops thereto : for men, to get or keep reputation, will decline the most pleasant enjoyments, will embrace the hardest pains. Yea, it often prevails over the love of life itself, which men do not only frequently expose to danger, but sometimes devote to certain loss, for its sake. If we observe what is done in the world, we may discern it to be the source of most 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 But searching farther, we shall find the and vigour that for honour especially, appetite of honour to have a deeper the soldier undergoes hardship, toil, and ground, and that it is rooted even in our hazard; the scholar plods and beats his nature itself. For we may descry it budbrains; the merchant runs about so busi-ding forth in men's first infancy (before ly, and adventures so far; yea, that for its sake the meanest labourer 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 search: ing for knowledge, this scraping and scrambling for wealth) doth seem to be, that men would live in some credit, would raise themselves above contempt.* 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 vivere voluerunt, pro hac et mori non dubitaverunt. Cæteras cupiditates hujus unius ingenti cupiditate presserunt.-Aug. de Civ. Dei, v. 12. Αἱ γὰρ δυναστεῖαι καὶ ὁ πλοῦτος διὰ τὴν τιμήν ἐστιν aiperá.-Arist. Eth. iv. 3. Honos alit artes, omnesque incenduntur ad studia, gloria, &c.-Cic. Tusc. Quæst. 1. * Vide Hier. Ep. ad Celant. Conscientia nobis necessaria est, fama proxima. Qui conscientia fidens, famam negligit, crudelis est.-Aug. Πρὸς Χρείας ἐπιτήδειον ὄργανον ἡ δόξα. Galen. Nec vero negligenda fama est; nec mediocre telum ad res gerendas existimare oportet benevolentiam civium.-Cic. de Amic. Vide Chrys. tom. vi. Orat. 17. ing 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 emperor M. Aurelius, who would often speak like a Stoic, could not but com. 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 im-spice of ambition. Yea, that excellent provements, of the weightiest employments, do most zealously affect it and stand upon it; that they who most strug-monly act like a man; more by his pracgle with it, do most feel its might, how tice commending honour, than he dispardifficult it is to resist and restrain it, how aged it in his words. For story represents impossible it is to stifle or extinguish it. him very careful and jealous of his credit, For the philosopher, with all his reasons very diligent to preserve it and to repair and considerations, cannot dispute it down, it. Tertullian calls such philosophers or persuade it away; the anchoret cannot, negotiatores famæ, merchants for fame :† with all his austerities, starve it, or by his and it is perchance some part of their retirement shun it; no affliction, no pov-cunning in that trade, which makes them erty, 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 concience sake, without any regard to men's opinions; 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 concern 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 according 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 improvement of human society. For did not some love of honour glow in men's breasts, were that noble spark quite extinct, few men probably would study for honourable quali *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. |