With such sentiments was the appearance of our Lord in the temple regarded by the pious Simeon, when he blessed God that his eyes had seen that salvation for which he had anxiously and devoutly hoped. As Jesus Christ came into the world thus to save and to bless mankind, well might he be termed, in this sense, a light to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of God's people Israel; and well might the holy man express his ready contentment to die, after so manifest an assurance of the life and immortality reserved for him after death through his incarnate Redeemer,-by faith in whom he should now depart in peace. the mercy of an offended God. To was not dismayed by the prospect estimate the value of this blessing of pain and anguish; he looked conferred on us by the death and rather to the glorious end of his atonement of our Saviour, only think, benevolent sacrifice; for the joy to what a state of ruin and despair that was set before him in saving we were reduced by the curse de- the repentant sinner from eternal nounced against us in the person of destruction, he willingly endured Adam, and how impossible it was the cross, despising the shame. In for us, by our own unassisted endea- order to effect this great purpose of vours, ever to have regained the Pa- divine mercy, his putting on the radise which we had lost through the tabernacle of our flesh was ordained sin of our first parents. For look as the means and preparation. It was to the reason of the thing.-Is it a circumstance necessary, (as far as not plain, that if, while man was as we are able to judge) in order to inyet perfect, fresh from the hand of troduce the heavenly dispensation of his Maker, before he had become pardon and peace into the world. weak and corrupt by the effects of transgression, he could not stand by his own righteousness, and satisfy the justice of God,—it was infinitely less possible for him, when degraded and sunk by his fall, weakened by the entrance of sin into his vital constitution, and alienated in his affections from the love of God, to have done works pleasing to him whom he had at first grossly offended, and to have re-established the slightest claim to that happiness which he had not been able, even in his best estate, to preserve?-The very reason of the thing, therefore, tells us, that of ourselves we could never be saved. The same is the uniform language of Scripture. It is there said, that the natural man cannot please God; that in our flesh dwelleth no good thing; that the heart of man is inwardly deceit. ful and corrupt; that there is none that doeth good, no not one; that in Adam all die. But what we could never have done for ourselves, Christ has done for us. He was made flesh, and came into the world expressly to accomplish the mighty object of man's redemption; to restore our fallen nature, and to reform us according to that divine image in which we were originally created. He knew before hand the bitter cup which he had to drink; he knew the miseries which he should encounter by taking fellowship with our infirm lot; but he In the heartfelt religious joy of the good Simeon, a worthy example is proposed to us of that right impression, which a firm and animated belief in our blessed Lord should make on our hearts and minds. Why he rejoiced, we have already fully seen; it was, because he recognized in Jesus the Divine Author of his salvation. That we may, therefore, feel as he did, we must likewise have a sincere faith in our Lord; a faith according to knowledge, according to the word of God; or in other words, a faith grounded on the sure warrant of Scripture, not according to man's conceits, not according to any single and solitary passages, separated from their context, and capriciously inter preted, but agreeably to the whole But is this the case, my Christian brethren, with you who are here as sembled? Have you so thought of the religion of Jesus, to which you have been admitted by baptism, as to behold in it your sure salvation, your only certain title to eternal happiness, and your full compensation for the protracted hopes and insufficiencies of this present life? I must request you to put this question to your own consciences. If your conscience sincerely replies in the affirmative, if it assures you with truth that you have, to the best of your knowledge and endeavours, adopted your religion in your faith and practice, that you count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, your Lord, happy indeed are you.-I would exhort you to go on from strength to strength, adding virtue to virtue, and grace to grace; bearing up manfully against the poverty, and hardships, and afflictions of whatever kind God may be pleased to send you during your short continuance in this world, not murmuring and repining, but giving thanks even for your severest trials-holding fast the profession of your faith, in spite of the evil counsels or evil examples of bad men, without wavering-remembering, that to those who persevere to the end great is their reward in heaven. Simeon, by waiting patiently for the consolation of Israel, unshaken in his confidence by the apparent delay of the promise, at last was amply gratified by obtaining the object of his hope and faith. So do you persevere with unshaken constancy-so shall you also depart in peace, and in heaven behold the face of him, in whom you have trusted.— But if, on the contrary, your conscience, when closely examined, informs you, that as yet you have thought but little, if at all, of Christ or his religion that you have been accustomed to look for your happiness and your comfort every where else, rather than in the rewards and consolations which your religion holds out to you; in short, that, most unlike Simeon, you are grow ing old and wrinkled with the cares of providing for the flesh, instead of looking forward, as the outer man decays, to the increased strengthening of the inner man by the nearer hope of salvation; then you are, alas! in the bond of iniquity-you are the servants of Mammon and not of God. If there should unfortunately be any so disposed among those whom I now address, to them I would earnestly repeat the Gospel call-Repent. The fancied goods which they now pursue, be they riches, or pleasure, or any of the conveniences and comforts of this life, will profit them nothing. When they come to that solemn period, when they shall be laid on the death-bed, they will find, that all those things which they now prize so highly, will not stay their departure for one instant, nor pour one drop of water on their feverish lip. What madness then is it, to hunt so eagerly after mere trifles, after mere bubbles, which, when caught, only vanish in the air? -Let them then at once begin to place their happiness, where alone their happiness is to be found. Where their real treasure is, there let their heart also be fixed. The world, I know, gives a very different advice. With a plausibility of tone, indeed, it suggests to us the propriety of respecting religion, of being regular in its formal duties, and even bestowing some of our leisure on its serious considerations; but here it stops; it may lead us to the threshold of the temple, but it draws us back again to itself, when we would enter in and dwell there for ever. Thus it is, that, with the generality, the man who is really in earnest about religion,-who reckons it not merely as an occasional and supernumerary employment of his life, but rather as the very business of life, to which all other em. ployments are on the contrary only accessory, is regarded as far too serious and solemn, and as obstructing the free course of lawful enjoy ment. That a man should wear some appearance of religion, can be sufficiently tolerated and even recommended by many, but that he should be seen ever attired in her livery and attendant on her calls, is, unhappily, too often accounted only the mark of a misjudging and melancholy temper. But if we are to believe the Gospel of Christ, let us not be ruled by the opinion of the world. Let us look at things rather as they are in truth, as the Scriptures present them to us. The characters, which before only perplexed and misled, when held up to this glass, become legible according to their right form and meaning. The Gospel accordingly gives us another and a much more just view of the subject. It paints to us our religion in the most attractive colours, as not only to be respected and esteemed, but to be beloved and caressed with the warmest and firmest affection. It recognizes no religion but that which glows with the love of God. The exceptions and reservations of the world are utterly unknown to it. We must be the Lord's entirely, or we are as yet none of his. I repeat, therefore, we must begin at once to feel the joy and comfort of religion; we must endeavour to be, not its disciples only, but its beloved disciplesthat so, having cheered and delighted us while on earth, it may, by a na tural transition, carry us forward to the consummation of its joys in heaven, in the presence of our Saviour and our God. H. ECCLESIASTICAL LIFE. ARCHBISHOP WHITGIFT*. JOHN WHITGIFT was of an an- shire. His grandfather, John Whitcient family, of Whitgift in York gift, gentleman, had many children; * This memoir is compiled chiefly from the life of John Whitgift, Archbishop of Canterbury in the times of Queen Elizabeth and King James I. written by Sir George Paule, Comptroller of his Grace's Household. London, 1699. some whereof he made scholars, others he placed abroad in several courses of life, disposing his father, Henry Whitgift, to be a merchant at Great Grimsby, in Lincolnshire : where he married Ann Dynewell, a virtuous young woman, of good parentage in that town, of whom this our Archbishop came, and was there born in the year of our Lord 1530, being the eldest of his father's sons, who were five in number besides himself. He had an uncle, called Robert Whitgift, Abbot of the Monastery of Wellow, in the county of Lincoln, near Grimsby, who, teaching divers young gentlemen, took like pains also with him; and finding an extraordinary towardliness in him, sent him afterwards to Londou, where he became a scholar in St. Anthony's school, and boarded at his aunt's house in Paul's Church-yard; she being the wife of Michael Shaller, a verger of that church. There he had a narrow escape from the infection of the plague, of which his bed-fellow died. From St. Anthony's school he repaired to Grimsby to his parents, being thrust out of doors by his aunt, because he would not, (as she often required and solicited him by the Canons of Paul's) go with her to morrow mass; imputing all her losses and domestic misfortunes to her harbouring of such an heretic within her doors; and who for a farewell told him, "that she thought at the first she had received a saint into her house, but now she perceived he was a devil." His parents finding that he had much profited in his learning, sent him, by the advice and direction of his uncle, the Abbot, to Cambridge, where he was first of Queen's College; then of Pembroke Hall-Dr. Ridley (afterwards Bishop of London) being there Master, who hearing by Mr. Bradford, his tutor, of his great towardliness and small means, (by reason of his father's losses at sea), made him Scholar, and then Mr. Gurth became his tutor; from thence he was chosen Fellow of Pe. ter-house, (May 1555) Dr. Pearne being then Master there. Whilst he was Fellow of that House, he fell grievously sick, and was by commandment of Dr. Pearne, who much tendered him, in regard of his good parts, carried to an house near the College, whither Dr. Pearne came often to visit him, and willed the woman of the house that he should want nothing for the recovery of his health, saying, that if he lived, he would be able to defray the charge himself; but if he died, the said Dr. Pearne would satisfy her and pay for all things. When it pleased God to restore him to health, he determined to travel beyond seas, to avoid certain Visitors sent in Queen Mary's time to the University-but was dissuaded by Dr. Pearne, who promised so to order the matter, that, if he were only silent, he might continue his religion: for which favour the Archbishop carried a loving, faithful and true heart towards him unto his dying day. He commenced Bachelor of Arts in the year 1553, Master of Arts, 1556; Bachelor of Divinity, 1562; Doctor of Divinity, 1569, at which time he answered the Divinity Act publicly in the Commencement, wherein he maintained this position, Papa est ille Antichristus. After he was entered into the ministry, which was upon the year 1560, being to preach his first public sermon at St. Mary's, he chose for his text, Rom. i. 16, I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, &c. on which occasion he excited the great admiration of the University at such great parts in so young years. From being Fellow of Peter-house, he succeeded Dr. Hutton, late Archbishop of York in the Mastership of Pembroke Hall, 1567, being then Chaplain to Dr. Cox, Bishop of Ely, by whose means he had a prebend in Ely, and the parsonage of Teversam, near Cambridge. He was also chosen Divinity Reader of the Lady Margaret's Lecture, in the year 1563, which he discharged with so great liking of the whole University, that for his sake they increased the stipend from twenty marks to twenty pounds; and afterwards he was made the Queen's Public Professor of Divinity. Whilst he read these two lectures, the Public Schools were frequented with throngs of students in Divinity, young and old-insomuch as many of the precise faction were his daily auditors. His singular and extraordinary gift in preaching caused him, upon the recommendation of Sir Nicholas Bacou, the then-Lord-Keeper of the Great Seal of England, and Sir William Cecill, Principal Secretary, afterwards Lord Treasurer of England, to be sent for, A.D. 1567, to preach before her Majesty, who took so great liking of him, that hearing his name to be Whitgift, she said he had a white gift indeed: and within four months after that he was Master of Pembroke Hall, made him Master of Trinity College, and caused him immediately after to be sworn her Chaplain. In the College, at his first entrance, he found much division, especially among such as laboured at innovation in the Church; but having wisely appeased these stirs, he governed for five years space with great quietness both of the whole company and himself, until Master Thomas Cartwright, a Fellow of that College, his last return from beyond seas, whose seditious writings and proceedings much disturbed the Uni. versity-until Dr. Whitgift, having in vain completely refuted him in controversy, and tried other gentle expedients for restoring peace, expelled him from the University, and being Vice-chancellor, deprived him of the Lady Margaret's Lecture, which he then read. Having continued Master of Trinity College ten years, and being twice Vice-chancellor, he was by her Majesty preferred also to the Deanery of Lincoln, August 2, 1751, which he held for seven years, so long as he remained in Cambridge. By his government in Trinity College he made many excellent scholars, five whereof were in his time Bishops *, that were Fellows of the College when he was Master, and some of them his Pupils. Among his pupils also were the Earls of Worcester and Cumberland, the Lord Zouch, the Lord Dunboy, of Ireland; Sir Nicholas and Sir Francis Bacon, Sir Edward Coke +: all which, together with the rest of the scholars, he held to their public disputations, exercises and prayers, which he never missed. He usually dined and supped in the common hall, as well to have a watchful eye over the scholars, and to keep them in a mannerly and awful obedience, as by his example to teach them to be contented with a scholar-like college diet. The sway and rule he then did bear through the whole University, is testified by the alteration and amendment which he procured of the statutes of the university, by his mere labour, and the credit which he had with her Majesty and the Lord Burleigh, the Lord Treasurer of England and Chancellor of Cambridge. In which kind of affairs all the Heads of Houses were directed and advised by him, as from an oracle. The first wound which those fervent reprehenders received at Dr. Whitgift's hands, and his prudent order of government, together with his singular gift in preaching, made his fame spread, and gained him so. Norwich, Redman-Worcester, BaGolsborough-Hereford, Bennett. bington-St. David's, Rud-Glocester, + It must not be forgotten that Dr. "He Whitgift, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, sent unto his pupil, (Sir Edward Coke) when the Queen's Attorney, a fair New Testament with this message: bath long enough studied Common Law; now let him study the Law of God."Wordsworth's Eccl. Biog, vol. iv. p. 332. note.. |