Elijah, &c., to whom it was said, These pilgrims are come from the city of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning: those, therefore, were carried in to the King, who, when he had read them. said, Where are the men? To whom it was answered, They are standing without the gate. The King then commanded to open the gate, 'That the righteous nation' said he, that keepeth truth, may enter in.'

Now, I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate; and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There were also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave to them the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, 'Enter ye into the joy of your Lord.' I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying, 'Blessing, honour, and glory, and power be to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, forever and ever.'

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold the city shone like the sun; the streets, also, were paved with gold, and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal.

There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, 'Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord.' And after that they shut up the gates; which when I had seen, I wished myself among them.

Now, while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw Ignorance coming up to the river side; but he soon got over, and that without half the difficulty which the other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in that place one Vain-Hope, a ferryman, that with his boat helped him over; so he, as the other, I saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only he came alone; neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. When he was coming up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to him: but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of the gate, Whence come you, and what would you have? He answered, 'I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our streets.' Then they asked for his certificate, that they might go in and show it to the King; so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, You have none! but the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two shining ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the city to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I saw on the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction. 'So I awoke, and behold it was a dream.'

From the 'tinker of Bedford' with whom we have so long lingered, and of whose preaching Dr. Owen said to Charles the Second-May it please your Majesty, could I possess the tinker's abilities for preaching, I would most gladly relinquish all my learning'-we pass to notice some of those ornaments of the Church of England of this period, who have, to this day, had no superiors in her communion; such as Barrow, Tillotson, Cumberland, South, Stillingfleet, and Sherlock.

ISAAC BARROW was descended from an ancient family of Suffolk, and

born in London in October, 1630. He commenced his studies at the Charter House school, where he was rather remarkable for a belligerent disposition than for study; but being removed to Felsted, in Essex, he soon made amends for past negligence, and became distinguished for scholarship. He entered Peter-House College, Cambridge, in 1643, but at the end of two years he became a member of Trinity, where he remained to take his degree, soon after which he was chosen to a fellowship. He now designed to enter the church; but perceiving that the theological opinions which then prevailed differed from his own, he turned his views to the medical profession, and engaged in the study of anatomy, botany, and chemistry. After some time thus spent, he resumed his theological studies, devoting also much attention to mathematics and astronomy. In 1655, having been disappointed in his expectations of obtaining the Greek professorship at Cambridge, he went abroad, and passed several years on the continent, visiting France, Italy, Turkey, Germany, and Holland. At Constantinople, where he spent twelve months, he studied, with great delight, the works of St. Chrysostom, which were composed in that city.

Barrow returned to England in 1659, and in the following year obtained, without opposition, the professorship for which he had formerly been a candidate; and to this appointment was added, in 1662, that of professor of geometry, in Gresham College, London. Both these positions he relinquished in 1663, on becoming Lucasian professor of mathematics in the university of Cambridge. After filling the last of these offices with great ability for six years, toward the end of which he published a valuable and profound work on optics, he resolved to devote himself more exclusively to theology, and in 1669, accordingly, resigned his chair, to Isaac Newton. In 1670 Barrow was made doctor of divinity, and appointed one of the king's chaplains; and two years afterwards the king nominated him to the mastership of Trinity College, observing, on the occasion, that he had bestowed it on the best scholar in England.' To complete his honors, he was, in 1675, chosen vice-chancellor of the university; but this last appointment he survived only two years, having been cut off by a fever, in 1677. His death occurred on the fourth of May, and he was buried in Westminster Abbey, with an elegant monument over his remains.

In personal character, Dr. Barrow was distinguished for scrupulous integrity, great candor, modesty, disinterestedness, and mental serenity. His manners and external aspect were rather those of a student than of a man of the world; and he took no pains to improve his appearance by attention to his dress. On one occasion, when he preached before a London audience who did not know him, his aspect on ascending the pulpit, made so unfavorable an impression, that nearly the whole congregation immediately left the church. Though second only to Newton, as a mathematician, it is as a theological writer mainly that he is known to the public. His works, in this department, consist of sermons, Expositions of the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the Decalogue, the Doctrine of the Sacraments, and treatises on the Pope's -N

VOL. II.

Supremacy, and the Unity of the Church. His sermons, though his style is not polished, are, for their depth and copiousness of thought, and nervous eloquence, still held in high estimation. As a writer,' says Stewart, 'Barrow is equally distinguished by the redundancy of his matter, and by the pregnant brevity of his expression; but what more peculiarly characterizes his manner, is a certain air of powerful and conscious facility in the execution of whatever he undertakes. Whether the subject be mathematical, metaphysical, or theological, he seems always to bring to it a mind which feels itself superior to the occasion; and which, in contending with the greatest difficulties, puts forth but half its strength.' Barrow's severe mathematical training led him into the habit of composing with such care, that he generally transcribed his sermons three or four times before their language satisfied him. Hence, his style is less poetical than that of Jeremy Taylor. We select, as examples of this profound writer's style, the following passages:

WISE SELECTION OF PLEASURES.

Wisdom is exceedingly pleasant and peaceable; in general, by disposing us to acquire and to enjoy all the good delight and happiness we are capable of; and by freeing us from all the inconveniences, mischiefs, and infelicities our condition is subject to. For whatever good from clear understanding, deliberate advice, sagacious foresight, stable resolution, dexterous address, right intention, and orderly proceeding, doth naturally result, wisdom confers: whatever evil blind ignorance, false presumption, unwary credulity, precipitate rashness, unsteady purpose, ill-contrivance, backwardness, inability, unwieldiness, and confusion of thought beget, wisdom prevents. From a thousand snares and treacherous allurements, from innumerable rocks and dangerous surprises, from exceedingly many needless incumbrances and vexatious toils of fruitless endeavours, she redeems and secures us.

Wisdom instructs us to examine, compare, and rightly to value the objects that court our affections and challenge our care; and thereby regulates our passions and moderates our endeavours, which begets a pleasant serenity and peaceable tranquillity of mind. For, when, being deluded with false shows, and relying upon illgrounded presumptions, we highly esteem, passionately affect, and eagerly pursue things of little worth in themselves or concernment to us; as we unhandsomely prostitute our affections, and prodigally misspend our time, and vainly lose our labour, so that the event not answering our expectation, our minds thereby are confounded, disturbed, and distempered. But when, guided by right reason, we conceive great esteem of, and zealously are enamoured with, and vigorously strive to attain, things of excellent worth and weighty consequence, the conscience of having well placed our affections and well employed our pains, and the experience of fruits corresponding to our hopes, ravishes our mind with unexpressible content. And so it is: present appearance and vulgar conceit ordinarily impose upon our fancies, disguising things with a deceitful vanish, and representing those that are vainest with the greatest advantage; whilst the noblest objects, being of a more suitable and spiritual nature, like fairest jewels enclosed in a homely box, avoid the notice of gross sense, and pass undiscerned by us. But the light of wisdom, as it unmasks specious imposture, and bereaves it of its false colours, so it penetrates into the retirements of true excellency, and reveals its genuine lustre.

HONOUR TO GOD.

God is honoured by a willing and careful practice of all piety and virtue for conscience' sake, or an avowed obedience to his holy will. This is the most natural expression of our reverence towards him, and the most effectual way of promoting the same in others. A subject can not better demonstrate the reverence he bears towards his prince, than by (with a cheerful diligence) observing his laws; for by so doing, he declares that he acknowledgeth the authority and revereth the majesty which enacted them; that he approves the wisdom which devised them, and the goodness which designed them for public benefits; that he dreads his prince's power, which can maintain them, and his justice, which will vindicate them; that he relies upon his fidelity in making good what of protection or of recompense he propounds to the observers of them. No less pregnant a signification of our reverence towards God do we yield in our gladly and strictly obeying his laws, thereby evidencing our submission to God's sovereign authority, our esteem of his wisdom and goodness, our awful regard to his power and justice, our confidence in him, and dependence upon his word. The goodliness to the sight, the pleasantness to the taste, which is ever perceptible in those fruits which genuine piety beareth, the beauty men see in a calm mind and a sober conversation, the sweetness they taste from works of justice and charity, will certainly produce veneration to the doctrine that teacheth such things, and to the authority which enjoins them. We shall especially honour God by discharging faithfully those offices which God hath entrusted us with; by improving diligently those talents which God hath committed to us; by using carefully those means and opportunities which God hath vouchsafed us of doing him service and promoting his glory. Thus, he to whom God hath given wealth, if he expend it, not to the nourishment of pride and luxury, not only to the gratifying his own pleasure or humour, but to the furtherance of God's honour, or to the succour of his indigent neighbour, in any pious or charitable way, he doth thereby in a special manner honour God. He also on whom God hath bestowed wit and parts, if he employ them not so much in contriving projects to advance his own petty interests, or in procuring vain applause to himself, as in advantageously setting forth God's praise, handsomely recommending goodness, dexterously engaging men in ways of virtue, he doth thereby remarkably honour God. He likewise that hath honour conferred upon him, if he subordinate it to God's honour, if he use his own credit as an instrument of bringing credit to goodness, thereby adorning and illustrating piety, he by so doing doth eminently practice this duty.

JOHN TILLOTSON was the son of a clothier, at Sowerby, near Halifax, in Yorkshire, and was born in October, 1630. His father was a rigid Calvinist, and caused his son's studies, preparatory to the university, to be conducted on strictly Puritan principles. In 1647, Tillotson entered Clare Hall, Cambridge, and such was the success which attended his studies, that in 1654, he took his master's degree, having been previously chosen a fellow of his college. He entered the ministry as a Presbyterian; but on reading 'Chillingworth's Religion of the Protestants,' his early notions became so considerably modified, that at the passing of the act of uniformity, in 1662, he submitted to the law without hesitation, and accepted a curacy. After this he soon became noted as a preacher, and began rapidly to rise in the church. His sermons first attracted general attention while he was lecturer in St. Lawrence church, Jewry, in the city of London; and having thus acquired a position of importance, he endeavored to use the influence which

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,