Turkish Slavery, and rowing chained in their gallyes. How much more then stand we obliged in all duty and service unto our God, who hath redeemed us from being the Slaves of Sathan, from the chaines of darknesse, and everlasting damnation. They have no sense of this Redemption nor no part as yet in it, who are not inflamed thereby to serve God in holinesse and righteousnesse, and to become a peculiar people unto him, zealous of good workes.1 But alas, where shall God our Redeemer finde such zealous servants, amongst millions of men that confesse and professe themselves to be redeemed with his blood? The World and the Flesh have a world of Servants at command; nay the divell himselfe is so well attended, that Saint Cyprian brings him in, thus bragging against our Saviour Christ, and insulting over us silly and sinfull wretches. Ego pro istis nec sanguinem fudi,2 &c. I have spilt no one drop of blood for any of these, I have taken no paines to doe them any good; nay all my study and paines ever was, and ever shall be, to bring them to death, and eternall damnation. Notwithstanding all this; Tuos tales demonstra mihi Christe,3 " O Christ, (if thou canst) shew me so many, so busy, so painefull, so dutifull servants of thine," as I am able to shew unto thee every where of mine. O what a shame is it unto us all that beare the name of Christians, Hæc dici potuisse, & non potuisse refelli: "That such things may truely bee objected against us by the divell, and cannot truely be denied, or confuted by us." O what a griefe is it unto our Lord Christ, that a cursed Murtherer should be able to entise away so many servants, from a blessed Redeemer? This point should rather be prosecuted with teares, then words; nothing now remaines, but that every man heere present, search into his owne heart and life, inquire and finde out his owne proper sinnes, turne speedily from his wicked waies; and that all of us say with a joynt and constant resolution as these Israelites did: 2 Serm. de Eleemosyna. 3 Ibid. 1 Tit. ii. 14. Behold, wee come unto thee, for thou art the Lord, our God. That Almighty God who hath this day called us unto him by his word, draw us unto him by the effectuall operation of his holy Spirit; that so renouncing the service of the World, the Flesh, and the Divell, and returning unto the service of our true Lord; wee may recover his favour here, and enjoy his everlasting favour hereafter. Grant this Most Mercifull Father, for the infinite merits of thy wel-beloved Sonne, to whom with thee and the Holy Ghost, be ascribed all Praise, Power, Majesty, and Dominion, this day and for ever. Amen. FINIS. TROUBLES AS A COURT PREACHER BIRTH OF "I appeal to the moderate men of these times (1651-5) whether, in the height of these woful wars, they have not sometimes wisht (not out of passionate distemper, but serious recollection of themselves) some such private place to retire unto, where, out of the noise of this clamorous world, they might have reposed themselves and served God with more quiet.-FULLER'S History of Abbeys in England, Church History, bk. vi. 263. occasion of a Fast, from the words of Jeremiah iii. 22, which we have given in extenso, as it is the only known extant sermon of our Bishop, and about which the writer of the short sketch of Bishop Davenant's life says: "Of this the editor has vainly endeavoured to procure a sight, and probably there is no copy in existence." After several attempts, the writer of these Memoirs at length had his search rewarded by discovering a copy in the British Museum, which is given at length in a previous chapter. It must be owned that the Bishop did not shrink from stating his opinions on "the Doctrines of Grace" very boldly, and evidently had the courage of his convictions. It contains very unmistakably what might be termed "strong meat," and its doctrinal weight fully comes up to the required standard, "sixteen ounces in the pound." It was strong even for those days of dogmatical strength, and hardly suited the tastes of some of the new rising generation of Churchmen. The Church was passing through a crisis, and a reaction was taking place in men's minds. People had had a good "dose" of teaching on the subjective sidė, or pietetic phase, of religion, and now by the usual reaction were swinging round towards something more objective—a platform more tangible and realistic. Thus it has ever been. Some people's very temperaments incline them either to an internal or external development of Christianity. From the nature of the case it must be so. And when men's minds have been dwelling too much on the Contemplative side of Religion, they will, as with the measured beat of the pendulum, swing over to a more practical exhibition of their principles. Coleridge used to say that all men were born either Platonists or Aristotelians—the men of ideas, i.e. correlated with the platform of private judgment, and the men who acknowledge some outward Controlling Authority, i.e. the Church. Thus in our day the Cambridge movement, which had regard to doctrine, was by a logical necessity followed by the Oxford movement, which took into its purview discipline, the externals of Church observance, which were indeed its supplement. The Cambridge movement was remarkable for its preaching of the Doctrines of Grace, the Atonement, Justification by Faith, the work of the Spirit on the individual soul; whereas that of Oxford brought out more clearly and fully the Dogma and tact of the Incarnation, with the teaching of the Sacraments as its development and extension. It also made its appeal more stringent to the old Catholic Fathers and Doctors, as the former had gone straight to the unerring Word of God. Both movements were necessary. The one was corrective and correlative of the other. Each was required to make a perfect equipoise, both as to doctrine and discipline, and the two together set the Anglican system, viz. Evangelical truth and Apostolical order, before the eyes of Church people. Something of this sort was going on in these days, and men wes passing from a subjective to a more objective way of looking at Divine truth. The school of Davenant and Usher and Hall was merging into that of Laud, Jeremy Taylor, and Heylin. A new king had arisen. Charles I. had succeeded his theologically-minded predecessor, James I., and great changes had taken place in men and measures, in civil and ecclesiastical matters, and greater still were pending. The muttering of the coming storm could even then be heard, and those pregnant commotions were then coming to the birth-the preludings of the final crash-the fall of the Monarchy and the humiliation of the Churchthe destruction of Crown and Mitre-to end with the death of the King and that of his Archbishop. Charles I. had ascended the throne under the most favourable auspices. The new king was known to be scrupulously conscientious and devoutly religious. It was noted that, unlike his father, at the special request of Bishop Laud, he joined in the prayers of the Royal Chapel, instead of expecting the sermon to be commenced immediately upon his entrance. They heard with approval how sternly he rebuked an Irish Romanist noble who interrupted the royal devotions by loud conversation in the ante-room. Men whispered about the story that the prince had said to his favourite bishop that he could never be a bishop, since nothing would induce him to plead the cause of a rascal. Scholars and writers and artists were captivated with a sovereign who was not only a patron, but was also a genuine admirer of all that was beautiful and well written; and who himself was no mean student in literature, “a competent judge in music," and in art an accomplished critic of the styles of the great painters of the Renaissance. Rubens and Van Dyck painted for him; Milton wrote masques and pastorals for his courtiers; Walter Davenant (not the divine, but the poet), Crashaw, and Herbert were among the band of graceful and devotional poets who expressed the feelings and aspirations of the dominant party. Manuscripts of Greek, Arabic, and Hebrew were added to the libraries; and the royal collection of pictures U |