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it gave him, in favor of his old associates, the nonconformists, whom he was anxious to bring within the pale of the establishment: but all his efforts, though, perhaps, prompted mainly by benevolent feeling, proved entirely unavailing.

In 1664, Tillotson married the niece of Oliver Cromwell, and by this alliance he became, as we have already observed, connected with the celebrated Dr. Wilkins, the second husband of his wife's mother. In 1666, he took the degree of doctor of divinity, and the same year was promoted to a prebend in the church of Canterbury, and also of St. Paul's church, London; and in 1672, was made dean of Canterbury. His moderate principles as a churchman, and his respectable character, made him the friend and confidential adviser of the princess Anne of Denmark, and her brother-in-law, King William; and he was accordingly raised, soon after the Revolution, to the archbishopric of Canterbury. In this situation he exerted himself to remove the abuses that had crept into the church, and, in particular, manifested a strong desire to abolish non-residence among the clergy. These proceedings, and his settled opposition to the Romish Church, excited great enmity against him, and subjected him to much annoyance. Conscious, however, of the purity of his principles, and the correctness of his motives, the archbishop was not to be swerved from his purpose; and at his death, which occurred on the twenty-fourth of November, 1694, the sorrow of the nation for his loss was more general than had ever been before known to be for a subject. The beneficence of Tillotson's life had been such, that at his death the only property he left his widow was his manuscript sermons. These, however, from the great popularity of their author, were purchased by a bookseller for the large sum of two thousand five hundred guineas; and even to the present time they continue to be held in high estimation, as instructive, rational, perspicuous, and impressive discourses. Though the style is frequently careless and languid, the sentences tedious and unmusical, the words ill-chosen and unskillfully arranged, and the metaphors deficient in dignity, yet there is so much warmth and earnestness in the author's manner, such purity and clearness of expression, so entire a freedom from the appearance of affectation and art, and so strong an infusion of excellent sense and virtuous feeling, that, notwithstanding all their defects, these sermons must ever be attractive to the admirers of sound practical religion and philosophy. Many detached passages might be selected, in which important truths are conveyed with admirable force and precision; but we shall present only the following:

ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH AND SINCERITY.

Truth and reality have all the advantages of appearance, and many more. If the show of any thing be good for any thing, I am sure sincerity is better: for why does any man dissemble, or seem to be that which he is not, but because he thinks it good to have such a quality as he pretends to ? for to counterfeit and dissemble, is to put on the appearance of some real excellency. Now, the best way in the world for a man to seem to be any thing, is really to be what we would seem to be. Besides.

that it is many times as troublesome to make good the pretence of a good quality, as to have it; and if a man have it not, it is ten to one but he is discovered to want it, and then all his pains and labour to seem to have it are lost. There is something unnatural in painting, which a skillful eye will easily discern from native beauty and complexion.

It is hard to personate and act a part long; for where truth is not at the bottom, nature will always be endeavouring to return, and will peep out and betray herself one time or other. Therefore, if any man think it convenient to seem good, let him be so indeed; and then his goodness will appear to every body's satisfaction; so that, upon all accounts, sincerity is true wisdom. Particularly as to the affairs of this world, integrity hath many advantages over all the fine and artificial ways of dissimulation and deceit; it is much the plainer and easier, much the safer and more secure way of dealing in the world; it has less of trouble and difficulty, of entanglement and perplexity, of danger and hazard in it; it is the shortest and nearest way to our end, carrying us thither in a straight line, and will hold out and last longest. The arts of deceit and cunning do continually grow weaker, and less effectual and serviceable to them that use them; whereas integrity gains strength by use; and the more and longer any man practiceth it, the greater service it does him, by confirming his reputation, and encouraging those with whom he hath to do to repose the greatest trust and confidence in him, which is an unspeakable advantage in the business and affairs of life.

Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it out; it is always near at hand, and sits upon our lips, and is ready to drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is troublesome, and sets a man's invention upon the rack, and one trick needs a great many more to make it good. It is like building upon a false foundation, which continually stands in need of props to shore it up, and proves at last more chargeable than to have raised a substantial building at first upon a true and solid foundation; for sincerity is firm and substantial, and there is nothing hollow or unsound in it, and because it is plain and open, fears no discovery; of which the crafty man is always in danger; and when he thinks he walks in the dark, all his pretences are so transparent, that he that runs may read them. He is the last man that finds himself to be found out; and whilst he takes it for granted that he makes fools of others, he renders himself ridiculous.

Add to all this, that sincerity is the most compendious wisdom, and an excellent instrument for the speedy dispatch of business; it creates confidence in those we have to deal with, saves the labour of many inquiries, and brings things to an issue in few words; it is like travelling in a plain beaten road, which commonly brings a man sooner to his journey's end than by-ways, in which men often lose themselves. In a word, whatsoever convenience may be thought to be in falsehood and dissimulation, it is soon over; but the inconvenience of it is perpetual, because it brings a man under an everlasting jealousy and suspicion, so that he is not believed when he speaks truth, nor trusted perhaps when he means honestly. When a man has once forfeited the reputation of his integrity, he is set fast, and nothing will then serve his turn, neither truth nor falsehood.

And I have often thought that God hath, in his great wisdom, hid from men of false and dishonest minds the wonderful advantages of truth and integrity to the prosperity even of our worldly affairs. These men are so blinded by their covetousness and ambition, that they can not look beyond a present advantage, nor forbear to seize upon it, though by-ways never so indirect, they can not see so far as to the remote consequences of a steady integrity, and the vast benefit and advantages which it will bring a man at last. Were but this sort of men wise and clear-sighted enough to discern this, they would be honest out of very knavery, not out of any love to honesty and virtue, but a crafty design to promote and advance more effectually their own interests; and therefore the justice of the divine providence hath hid this

truest point of wisdom from their eyes, that bad men might not be upon equal term with the just and upright, and serve their own wicked designs by honest and lawful

means.

Indeed, if a man were only to deal in the world for a day, and should never have occasion to converse more with mankind, never more need their good opinion or good word, it were then no great matter (speaking as to the concernments of this world) if a man spend his reputation all at once, and ventured it at a throw: but if he be to continue in the world, and would have the advantage of conversation whilst he is in it, let him make use of truth and sincerity in all his words and actions; for nothing but this will last and hold out to the end; all other arts will fail, but truth and integrity will carry a man through, and bear him out to the last.

RICHARD CUMBERLAND, another amiable and learned divine of the church of England, was born in London, on the fifteenth of July, 1632. His classical studies, preparatory to the university, were pursued at St. Paul's school, whence, in 1649, he removed to Magdalen College, Cambridge, where he took his second degree, in 1656. After he was graduated, he, for a short time, turned his attention to medical studies, but abandoning the idea of becoming a physician, he took orders, and was immediately presented to the rectory of Brampton, in Northamptonshire, in the rural retirement of which he thought of little else than his ministerial functions and his studies. In 1672, Cumberland published a Latin work, De Legibus Naturæ Disquisitio Philosophica, or 'A Philosophical Inquiry into the Laws of Nature;' in which their form, order, promulgation, and obligation, are investigated from the nature of things; and in which, also, the philosophical principles of Hobbes, moral as well as civil, are considered and refuted.' This modest and erudite, but verbose production contains many sound, and, at that time, novel views on moral science, together with others of very doubtful soundness. The laws of nature are deduced from the results of human conduct, regarding that to be commanded by God which conduces to the happiness of man.

In 1686, Cumberland wrote a very learned Essay towards the Recovery of the Jewish Weights and Measures, comprehending their Monies, and a translation of Sanchoniatho's Phoenician History. Two years after the publication of this last work, King William raised Cumberland to the see of Peterborough, and in the performance of his episcopal duties he displayed a rare degree of activity, moderation, and benevolence. When his friends expostulated with him on account of the severity of his labors, he replied, I will do my duty as long as I can; a man had better wear out than rust out! He lived, however, to the advanced age of eighty-six, in the enjoyment of such mental vigor, that he successfully studied the Coptic language only three years before his death, which occurred on the ninth of October, 1718. From his Essay' we take the following extract :

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THE TABERNACLE AND TEMPLE OF THE JEWS.

The fit measures of the tabernacle and temple, to the uses of the whole nation of the Jews, demonstrate God's early care to settle his people Israel, in the form of one

entire national church, under Moses, Aaron, and the other priests, who were general officers for all Israel. The church in the wilderness, mentioned by Saint Stephen (Acts vii. 38), was thus national, and is the first collective body of men called a church in the Scripture language, by a man full of the evangelical spirit.

Synagogues for particular neighbourhoods' convenience, in the public exercise of religion, were introduced long after, by the pious prudence of the national governors of the Jewish church and state, and accordingly were all subordinate to them. It is to be observed, also, that this limited place for public national worship was within their own nation, in the midst of their camp in the wilderness, in their own land in Canaan. No recourse from it to a foreign church by appeals, but all difference finally decided within their own nation, and therein all, even Aaron although the high-priest, and elder brother to Moses, yet was subject to Moses, who was King in Jesurun. By these means all schismatical setting up of one altar against another was prevented; national communion in solemn and decent piety, with perfect charity, was promoted; which being no shadows, but the most substantial concerns of religion, are to be preserved in the gospel times.

Hereby is more evidently proved the magnificence, symmetry, and beauty that was in the structure of the temple; and the liberal maintenance which God provided for the Levites his ministers. For if the cubit by me proposed determine the area both of the temple and of the priests' suburbs (as the Scriptures set them both out by cubits), they must be much longer; and if they were set out by so many shorter cubits (suppose cubits of 18 inches), in such proportion as the squares of these different cubits bear to each other, by the 19th and 20th proposition of Euclid's 6th book. But the squares of these different cubits are in foot measure, which is here more convenient, as 3, 82, to 2, 25: the bigger of which is near half as much more as the less. Therefore the areas of the temple, and of the priests' suburbs, are, according to my measure, near half as big again as they would be if determined by that shorter cubit.

Such greatness of the temple Solomon intimates to the king of Tyre to be requisite, as best suiting with the greatness of God (2 Chronicles ii. 5). This reason, alleged by Solomon to a heathen, must be of moral or natural, and therefore perpetual force, continuing to evangelical times; and therefore intimating to us that even now magnificent and stately buildings are useful means to signify what great and honourable thoughts we have of God, and design to promote in those that come to the places of his public worship. And from God's liberal provision of land in the Levites' suburbs, besides other advantages, we are taught by Saint Paul, that even so those that preach the gospel should live of the gospel (1 Cor. ix. 14).

The fitness, safety, and honour of keeping to the use of such indifferent things, as have been determined by law or custom, is clearly proved by the constancy of Israel's using those measures (although others might be assigned as the Greek or Roman measures, to serve the same ends) from the time of Moses, and probably before, to the captivity and after. And this notwithstanding they were used by the Egyptians and Canaanites, which altered not their nature in the least. And this instance proves undeniably that such indifferent practices, as the use of the measures, may be highly useful to the greatest moral duties, the public honour of God, and the preservation of justice among them.

ROBERT SOUTH, reputed the wittiest of English divines, was the son of a London merchant, and was born at Hackney, Middlesex, in 1633. He was educated at Westminster school, under Dr. Busby, where he acquired a large share of grammatical and philological learning; and being a king's scholar, he was, in 1651, elected a student of Christ Church college, Oxford. Having passed through a brilliant career of scholarship at Oxford, until he

was elected public orator of the university, he had an opportunity to attract the notice of the Earl of Clarendon, when that nobleman was made chancellor, and through him obtained a succession of good appointments, amongst which was the rectory of Islip, in Oxfordshire, where, it is recorded to his honor, he gave his curate the unprecedented salary of a hundred pounds, and spent the remainder of his income in educating poor children, and improving the church and parsonage-house. South himself lived at this time at Caversham, near Reading; and though some of his opponents have declared that he was eager after higher preferment, yet it is known that he not only refused an English bishopric, but an archbishopric in Ireland. At the Restoration he took the oath of allegiance, but attained to no ecclesiastical preferment.

In 1693, Dr. South, in his Animadversions upon Dr. Sherlock's' Vindication of the Doctrine of the Trinity,' attacked that writer in the most ac rimonious and indecent manner. This drew forth a reply from Dr. Sherlock, and the violence and personality displayed by both parties on this occasion, gave deep offence to the friends of religion and the church; and at length, after the controversy had raged with unabating violence for some time, the king was induced by the bishops to put an end to it, by ordaining that all preachers should carefully avoid all new terms, and confine themselves to such ways of explication as have been commonly used in the church. Notwithstanding his intolerant and fiery temper, South was fully conscious of the nature of that Christian spirit in which a clergyman, above all others, should act. His life, therefore, affords another proof only, of the trite observation, that even good men are too frequently unable to reduce to practice the virtuous principles which they really and honestly hold. During the reign of Queen Anne he remained comparatively inactive, and his death occurred on the eighth of July, 1716. From his numerous sermons we select the following brief but characteristic passage:

INGRATITUDE AN INCURABLE VICE.

As a man tolerably discreet ought by no means to attempt the making of such an one as his friend, so neither is he, in the next place, to presume to think that he shall be able so much as to alter or meliorate the humour of an ungrateful person by any acts of kindness, though never so frequent, never so obliging.

Philosophy will teach the learned, and experience may teach all, that it is a thing hardly feasible. For, love such an one, and he shall despise you. Commend him, and, as occasion serves, he shall revile you. Give him, and he shall but laugh at your easiness. Save his life; but, when you have done, look toyour own.

The greatest favours to such an one are but the motion of a ship upon the waves; they leave no trace, no sign behind them; they neither soften nor win upon him; they neither melt nor endear him, but leave him as hard, as rugged, and as unconcerned as ever. All kindnesses descend upon such a temper as showers of rain or rivers of fresh water falling into the main sea; the sea swallows them all, but is not at all changed or sweetened by them. I may truly say of the mind of an ungrateful person, that it is kindness-proof. It is impenetrable, unconquerable; unconquerable by that which conquers all things else, even by love itself. Flints may be

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