the spirits, the exultation of a tickled fancy, or a pleased appetite. Joy, was then a masculine and a severe thing; the recreation of the judgment, the jubilee of reason. It was the result of a real good, suitably applied. It commenced on the solidities of truth, and the substance of fruition. It did not run out in voice, or indecent eruptions, but filled the soul, as God does the universe, silently and without noise. It was refreshing, but composed; like the pleasantness of youth tempered with the gravity of age; or the mirth of a festival managed with the silence of contemplation."

The name of Barrow is known to us as being associated with that of the illustrious Newton, in his contributions to the advancement of science. His sermons also give him a claim to be ranked among the most eminent preachers and divines of the English church. He is said to have devoted more than usual attention to the perfecting of his style, and his freedom from some prevailing faults, gives evidence that his efforts of this kind were not in vain. Not only are there passages of great power and beauty, which indicate an elevated mind and refined taste, but in his writings generally, there is a purity of diction, a correctness of construction, and a richness and copiousness of language, which are rarely surpassed. And of the theological writings of this period, it may be safely said, there are none read with more interest and profit at the present day, than the sermons of Barrow: The following extract is from a discourse on Devotion :

"Frequency is indeed necessary for the breeding, the nourishment, the growth, and improvement of all piety. Devotion is that holy and heavenly fire, which darteth into our minds the light of spiritual knowledge, which kindleth in our hearts the warmth of holy desires; if therefore we do continue long absent from it, a night of darkness will overspread our minds, a deadening coldness will seize upon our affections. It is the best food of our souls, which preserveth their life and health, which repaireth their strength and vigour, which rendereth them lusty and active: if we therefore long abstain from it, we shall starve or pine away; we shall be faint and feeble in all religious performances; we shall have none at all, or a very languid and meagre piety.

"To maintain in us a constant and steady disposition to obedience, to correct our perverse inclinations, to curb our unruly passions, to strengthen us against temptations, to comfort us in anxieties and distresses, we do need continual supplies of grace from God; the which ordinarily are communicated in devotion, as the channel which conveyeth, or the instrument which helpeth to procure it, or the condition upon which it is granted. Faith, hope, love, spiritual comfort and joy, all divine graces are chiefly elicited, expressed, exercised therein and thereby; it is therefore needful that it should frequently be used; seeing otherwise we shall be in danger to fail in discharging our chief duties, and to want the best graces.

"It is frequency of devotion also which maintaineth that friendship with God, which is the soul of piety. As familiar conversation (wherein men do express their minds and affections) mutually breedeth acquaintance, and cherisheth good-will of men to one another; but long forbearance thereof dissolveth, or slackeneth the bonds of amity, breaking their intimacy, and cooling their kindness: so is it in respect to God; it is frequent converse with him which begetteth a particular acquaintance with him, a mindful regard of him, a hearty liking to him, a delightful taste of his goodness, and consequently a sincere and solid good-will towards him; but intermission thereof produceth estrangement, or enmity towards him. If we seldom come at God, we shall little know him, not much care for him, scarce remember him, rest insensible of his love, and regardless of his favour; a coldness, a shyness, a distaste, an antipathy towards him, will by degrees creep upon us. Abstinence from his company and presence will cast us into conversations destructive, or prejudicial to our friendship with him; wherein soon we shall contract familiarity and friendship with his enemies (the world and the flesh), which are inconsistent with love to him, which will dispose us to forget him, or to dislike and loathe him."

Of an entirely opposite style to this forcible and impressive manner of writing, are the sermons of Bishop Tillotson. Drake has thus happily contrasted these two contemporary writers; whilst richness, vehemence and strength, characterize the productions of Barrow, simplicity, languor and enervation, form the chief features in the diction of Tillotson. To the former belong a fervid fancy and a poetic ear, glowing figures and harmonious cadences; to the latter, perspicuity and smooth

ness, verbal purity and unaffected ease. If Barrow be occasionally involved, harsh, or redundant, Tillotson is too generally loose and feeble, and he seldom displays much either of beauty or melody, in the arrangement or construction of his periods."

The following passage is a favourable specimen of the style of Tillotson :

"Give me leave to recommend to you, this new commandment, that ye love one another; which is almost a new commandment still, and hardly the worse for wearing; so seldom is it put on, and so little hath it been practised among Christians for several ages.

"Consider seriously with yourselves; ought not the great matters wherein we are agreed, our union in the doctrines of the Christian religion, and in all the necessary articles of that faith which was once delivered to the saints, in the same sacraments, and in all the substantial parts of God's worship, and in the great duties and virtues of the Christian life, to be of greater force to unite us, than difference in doubtful opinions, and in little rights and circumstances of worship, to divide and break us?

"Are not the things, about which we differ, in their nature indifferent? that is, things about which there ought to be no difference among wise men; are they not at a great distance from the life and essence of religion, or rather good and bad as they tend to the peace and unity of the church, or are made use of to schism or faction, than either necessary or evil in themselves? And shall little scruples weigh so far with us, as by breaking the peace of the church about them, to endanger the whole of religion? Shall we take one another by the throat for a hundred pence, when our common adversary stands ready to clap upon us an action of ten thousand talents?"

This passage has more vivacity than is usually found in the writings of Tillotson. The extract found in the school books on the Advantages of truth and sincerity, is perhaps a fairer specimen of his style.

If we now turn from these dignitaries of the English church, to the Non-conformists of this reign, we find a class of writers of different, but not inferior claims to our consideration. I refer to such men as Howe, Bates, Baxter, and Bunyan, men, who for intellectual vigour, for richness and originality, and, I may add, for poetical beauty of

fears, nothing that can disturb or annoy us. To eye God in all our comforts, and observe the smiling aspects of his face, when he dispenses them to us; to eye Him in all our afflictions, and consider the paternal wisdom that instructs us in them; how would this increase our mercies and mitigate our troubles? To eye Him in all his creatures, and observe the various prints of the Creator's glory stamped upon them; with how lively a lustre would it clothe the world, and make every thing look with a pleasant face! What a heaven were it to look upon God, as filling all in all; and how sweetly would it, erewhile, raise our souls into some such sweet seraphic strains, holy, holy,—the whole earth is full of his glory."

Bates, in a Sermon on "Heaven," thus speaks of the pleasures that spring from knowledge in the regions of the blessed :

"When the soul opens its eyes to the clear discoveries of the first truth, in which is no shadow of error, and its breast to the dear and intimate embraces of the supreme good, in which is no mixture of evil, and beyond which nothing remains to be known, nothing to be enjoyed, what a deluge of the purest and sweetest pleasure will overflow it? We cannot ascend in our thoughts so high, as to conceive the excess of joy, that attends those operations of the glorified soul upon its proper object. But something we may conjecture.

"Those who are possessed with a noble passion for knowledge, how do they despise all lower pleasures in comparison of it? How do they forget themselves, neglect the body, and retire into the mind, the highest part of man, and nearest to God? The bare apprehension of such things, that by their internal nature have no attractive influence upon the affections, is pleasant to the understanding. As the appearance of light, though not attended with any visible beauties, refreshes the eye after long darkness; so the clear discovery of truths, how abstract soever, that were before unknown, is grateful to the intellective faculty.

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"But here are many imperfections that lessen this intellectual pleasure, which shall cease in heaven. Here the acquisition of knowledge is often with the expense of health; the flower of the spirits, necessary for natural operations, is wasted by intense thought. How often are the learned sickly? As the flint, when it is struck, gives not a spark, without consuming itself; so knowledge is obtained by studies that waste our faint, sensitive faculties. But there our knowledge shall be a free emanation from the spring of truth, without our labour or pains. Here we learn by circuit, and discern by