so much as these two subjects-the inculcation of conduct in life and the Messianic doctrine that Christ died for all.

This combined quality of manly sense with practical and charitable spirit, enforced with logical powers less scholastic than South's, but at least as persuasive, and with a vigour not inferior to that of the great Oxonian, though far less harsh-was probably what captivated the always acute intellect, and the often not ignoble sympathies of Charles II. Of actual graces of style Barrow, as hinted above, has not very many, though he has some, and those no mean ones, when he chooses. In general character and complexion his style is more modern than South's, less so than Tillotson's. His most archaic trick is the arrangement of antithetic similes from natural or other history, somewhat in the manner of Lyly's famous parallellisms, though of course infinitely less fantastic in substance and form. His vocabulary is not very peculiar, though occasionally we come across obsolete classicisms like "evanid" (for 66 evanescent,") or the serious use of words which have now become familiar or even slangy, such as colloguing," or the employment of exotic forms like "scribatious" and "discost" (the opposite of "accost," and meaning "to part company with"). He has a quaint phrase now and then as when he speaks of "a shining earthworm, a well-trapped ass, a gaudy statue, a theatrical grandee," or describes the Pope's supposed duty of feeding all Christ's sheep as "a vast and crabbed province." But he is on the whole very little noticeable in these easy and trivial respects. His great characteristic is a steady flow of nervous English, rising occasionally to higher things, examples of which will not be found missing in the extracts given here. It is impossible to read Barrow long without coming across some weighty, and so to speak doubleshotted sentence, which abides in the memory. Here he will contrast "these shallow plashes of present inconvenience" with the abysses of future weal or woe; there he will describe how in the case of ill-regulated life "every day our mind groweth more blind, our will more resty, our spirit more faint, our appetites more fierce, our passions more headstrong and untameable,” a sentence by the way which shows a strong intuitive appreciation of cadence and proportion. He has a particular inclination to what may be called the sustained interrogatory—a common trick of orators, but not often carried off so well as in the extract given below, and in not a few other passages of Barrow.

His best composition is to be looked for in his Sermons not in his treatises. The Treatise on the Pope's Supremacy and the Discourse on the Unity of the Church are, with a few cases of connected argument or discourse, one of which I have selected, rather immensely learned stretches and strings of scriptural and patriotic authorities bearing on the points of dispute, than instinctive and inventive compositions. In his Sermons also he is not infrequently what Milton calls a "quotationist," though assuredly not one of " narrow intellectuals" (as that great but ill-tempered poet describes) such persons; and it may be suspected that it was by the use of quotation that he spread his sermons out to a length so terrible. But as they are printed they do not exhibit this peculiarity to a very faulty extent as a rule; and the serried but not too formal argument in which he delights has fairer play than in the treatises. Nor is it by any means superfluous to compare his Latin style, of which we have abundant examples, with his English. The verse, especially the lyrical verse, is not very good; nor can even the prose be pronounced elegant as a rule. But it strongly resembles, and may be thought to have had no small influence upon, his English manner in its clear and strong simplicity, sometimes almost rugged, and never much adorned, but still furnishing a thorough workman's style, fit to exhibit premises and drive conclusions home.

GEORGE SAINTSBURY.

AS WE WOULD BE DONE BY

WHEREFORE for information concerning our duty in each case and circumstance, we need only thus to consult and interrogate ourselves, hence forming resolutions concerning our practice.

Can any

Do we not much esteem and set by ourselves? Do we strive to maintain in our minds a good opinion of ourselves? mischances befalling us, any defects observable in us, any faults committed by us, induce us to slight or despise ourselves?——— This may teach us what regard and value we should ever preserve for our neighbour.

Do we not sincerely and earnestly desire our own welfare and advantage in every kind? Do we not heartily wish good success Are we unconcerned or

to our own designs and undertakings? coldly affected in any case touching our own safety, our estate, our credit, our satisfaction or pleasure? Do we not especially, if we rightly understand ourselves, desire the health and happiness of our souls?—This doth inform us, what we should wish and covet for our neighbour.

Have we not a sensible delight and complacency in our own prosperity? (Do we ever repine at any advantages accruing to our person or condition ?) Are we not extremely glad to find ourselves thriving and flourishing in wealth, in reputation, in any accommodation or ornament of our state? Especially if we be sober and wise, doth not our spiritual proficiency and improvement in virtue yield joyous satisfaction to us? Are we not much comforted in apprehending ourselves to proceed in a hopeful way towards everlasting felicity?—This may instruct us what content we should feel in our neighbour's prosperity, both temporal and spiritual.

Do we not seriously grieve at our own disasters and disappointments? Are we not in sad dumps, whenever we incur any damage or disgrace? Do not our diseases and pains sorely

afflict us? Do we not pity and bemoan ourselves in any want, calamity, or distress? Can we especially, if we are ourselves, without grievous displeasure apprehend ourselves enslaved to sin and Satan, destitute of God's favour, exposed to endless misery? -Hence may we learn how we should condole and commiserate the misfortunes of our neighbour.

Do we not

Do we not eagerly prosecute our own concerns? with huge vigour and industry strive to acquire all conveniences and comforts to ourselves, to rid ourselves of all wants and molestations? Is our solicitous care or painful endeavour ever wanting towards the support and succour of ourselves in any of our needs? Are we satisfied in merely wishing ourselves well? are we not also busy and active in procuring what we affect? Especially, if we are well advised, do we not effectually provide for the weal of our soul, and supply of our spiritual necessities; labouring to rescue ourselves from ignorance and error, from the tyranny of sin, from the torture of a bad conscience, from the danger of hell?—This showeth how ready we should be really to further our neighbour's good, ministering to him all kinds of assistance and relief suitable to his needs, both corporal and spiritual.

Are we so proud or nice, that we disdain to yield attendance or service needful for our own sustenance or convenience? Do we not indeed gladly perform the meanest and most sordid offices for ourselves? This declareth how condescensive we should be in helping our neighbour, how ready even to wash his feet, when occasion doth require.

Do we love to vex ourselves, or cross our own humour? do we not rather seek by all means to please and gratify ourselves? -This may warn us how innocent and inoffensive, how compliant and complacent we should be in our behaviour toward others ; endeavouring to please them in all things, especially for their good to edification.

Are we easily angry with ourselves, do we retain implacable grudges against ourselves, or do we execute upon ourselves mischievous revenge? are we not rather very meek and patient toward ourselves, mildly comporting with our own great weak- · nesses, our troublesome humours, our impertinences and follies; readily forgiving ourselves the most heinous offences, neglects, affronts, injuries, and outrages committed by us against our own interest, honour, and welfare?—Hence may we derive lessons of meekness and patience, to be exercised toward our neighbour,

in bearing his infirmities and miscarriages, in remitting any wrongs or discourtesies received from him.

Are we apt to be rude in our deportment, harsh in our language, or rigorous in our dealing toward ourselves? do we not rather in word and deed treat ourselves very softly, very indulgently? Do we use to pry for faults, or to pick quarrels with ourselves, to carp at anything said or done by us, rashly or upon slight grounds to charge blame on ourselves, or to lay heavy censures on our actions, to make foul constructions of our words, to blazon our defects, or aggravate our failings? do we not rather connive at and conceal our blemishes? do we not excuse and extenuate our own crimes?

Can we find in our hearts to frame virulent invectives, or to dart bitter taunts and scoffs against ourselves; to murder our own credit by slander, to blast it by detraction, to maim it by reproach, to prostitute it, to be defloured by jeering and scurrilous abuse? Are we not rather very jealous of our reputation, and studious to preserve it, as a precious ornament, a main fence, an useful instrument of our welfare?

Do we delight to report, or like to hear ill stories of ourselves? do we not rather endeavour all we can to stifle them; to tie the tongues and stop the ears of men against them ?—Hence may we be acquainted how civil and courteous in our behaviour, how fair and ingenuous in our dealing, how candid and mild in our judgment or censure, we should be toward our neighbour; how very tender and careful we should be of anywise wronging or hurting his fame.

Thus reflecting on ourselves, and making our practice toward ourselves the pattern of our dealing with others, we shall not fail to discharge what is prescribed to us in this law and so we have here a rule of charity.

(From Sermon Of the Love of our Neighbour.)

THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN

BUT especially (that which as reason enables us, so due gratitude obliges us, and prompts us especially to observe) there is an evdient regard (so evident, that even Pliny, a professed Epicurean, could not forbear acknowledging it) which all things bear to man, the prince of creatures visible; they being all as on purpose