а outwardly proceed from Him; secondly, to show that God did then institute a law natural to be observed by creatures, and therefore, according to the manner of laws, the institution thereof is described as being established by solemn injunction. His commanding those things to be which are, and to be in such sort as they are, to keep that tenure and course which they do, importeth the establishment of nature's law. This world's first creation, and the preservation since of things created, what is it but only so far forth a manifestation by execution, what the eternal law of God is concerning things natural? And as it cometh to pass in a kingdom rightly ordered, that after a law is once published it presently takes effect far and wide, all states framing themselves thereunto; even so let us think it fareth in the natural course of the world: since the time that God did first proclaim the edicts of His law upon it, heaven and earth have hearkened unto His voice, and their labour hath been to do His will. "He made a law for the rain, he gave his decree unto the sea, that the waters should not pass his commandment." Now, if nature should intermit her course, and leave altogether, though it were but for a while, the observation of her own laws; if those principal and mother elements of the world, whereof all things in this lower world are made, should lose the qualities which now they have; if the frame of that heavenly arch erected over our heads should loosen and dissolve itself; if celestial spheres should forget their wonted motions, and by irregular volubilities turn themselves any way as it might happen; if the prince of the lights of heaven, which now as a giant doth run its unwearied course, should, as it were through a languishing faintness, begin to stand and to rest himself; if the moon should wander from her beaten way; the times and seasons of the year blend themselves by disordered and confused mixture; the winds breathe out their last gasp; the clouds yield no rain; the earth be defeated of heavenly influence; the fruits of the earth pine away as children at the withered breasts of their mother, no longer able to yield them relief; what would become of man himself, whom these things now do all serve? See we not plainly that obedience of creatures unto the law of nature is the stay of the whole world? Notwithstanding, with nature it cometh sometimes to pass as with art. Let Phidias1 have rude and obstinate stuff to carve, though his art do that it should, his work will lack that beauty which otherwise in fitter matter it might have had. He that striketh an instrument with skill may cause, notwithstanding, a very unpleasant sound, if the string whereon he striketh chance to be incapable of harmony. In the matter whereof things natural consist, that of Theophrastus taketh place: "much of it is oftentimes such as will by no means yield to receive that impression which were best and most perfect." Which defect in the matter of things natural, they who gave themselves unto the contemplation of nature amongst the heathen observed often; but the true original cause thereof, The most famous of the Athenian sculptors. SUPERSTITION AND ITS TWO CAUSES. 73 divine malediction, laid for the sin of man upon those creatures which God had made for the use of man, this being an article of that saving truth which God hath revealed to His Church, was above the reach of their merely natural capacity and understanding. 3. SUPERSTITION AND ITS TWO CAUSES, ZEAL AND FEAR. ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY," BOOK V. 3.) Two affections there are, the forces whereof, as they bear the greater or lesser sway in man's heart, frame accordingly the stamp and character of his religion,—the one zeal, the other fear. Zeal, unless it be rightly guided, when it endeavoureth most busily to please God, forceth upon Him those unseasonable offices which please Him not. For which cause, if those who this way swerve be compared with such sincere, sound, and discreet, as Abraham was in matter of religion, the service of the one is like unto flattery, the other like the faithful sedulity of friendship. Zeal, except it be ordered aright, when it bendeth itself unto conflict with things either in deed, or but imagined to be, opposite unto religion, useth the razor many times with such eagerness, that the very life of religion itself is thereby hazarded; through hatred of tares, the corn in the field of God is pluckt up. So that zeal needeth both ways a sober guide. Fear, on the other side, if it have not the light of true understanding concerning God, wherewith to be moderated, breedeth likewise superstition. It is therefore dangerous that in things divine we should work too much upon the spur either of zeal or fear. Fear is a good solicitor to devotion. Howbeit sith' fear in this kind doth grow from an apprehension of deity endued with irresistible power to hurt, and is of all affections (anger excepted) the unaptest to admit any conference with reason, for which cause the wise man doth say of fear, that it is a betrayer of the forces of reasonable understanding; therefore, except men know beforehand what manner of service pleaseth God, while they are fearful they try all things which fancy offereth. Many there are who never think on God but when they are in extremity of fear: and then, because what to think, or what to do, they are uncertain, perplexity not suffering them to be idle, they think and do, as it were in a phrenzy, they know not what. Superstition neither knoweth the right kind, nor observeth the due measure of actions belonging to the service of God, but is always joined with a wrong opinion touching things divine. Superstition is, when things are either abhorred or observed with a zealous or fearful, but erroneous relation to God. By means whereof the superstitious do sometimes serve, though the true God, yet with needless offices, and defraud Him of duties necessary, sometimes load others than Him with such honours as properly are His. The one, their oversight who miss in the choice lie, since; the word occurs in the Scotch version of the Psalms. 1 of that wherewith; the other, theirs who fail in the election of Him towards whom they show devotion: this, the crime of idolatry; that, the fault of voluntary either niceness or superfluity in religion. 4. DEFENCE OF THE ENGLISH SERVICE AGAINST THE PURITANS.— ("ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY," BOOK V. SECT. 34.) Our intermingling of lessons with prayers is in their taste a thing as unsavoury, and as unseemly in their sight, as if the like should be done in suits and supplications before some mighty prince of the world. Our speech to worldly superiors we frame in such sort as serveth best to inform and persuade the minds of them, who otherwise neither could nor would greatly regard our necessities; whereas, because we know that God is indeed a King, but a great King, who understandeth all things beforehand which no other king besides doth, a King readier to grant than we to make our requests, therefore in prayer we do not so much respect what precepts art delivereth touching the method of persuasive utterance in the presence of great men, as what doth most avail to our own edification in piety and godly zeal. If they on the contrary side do think that the same rules of decency which serve for things done unto terrene powers should universally decide what is fit in the service of God; if it be their meaning to hold it for a maxim, that the Church must deliver her public supplications unto God in no other form of speech than such as were decent if suit should be made to the great Turk, or some other monarch, let them apply their own rule unto their own form of common prayer. Suppose that the people of a whole town, with some chosen man before them, did continually twice or thrice in a week resort to their king, and every time they came first acknowledge themselves guilty of rebellions and treasons, then sing a song, after that explain some statute of the land to the standers by, and therein spend at the least an hour; this done, turn themselves again to the king, and for every sort of his subjects crave somewhat of him; at the length sing him another song, and so take their leave; might not the king well think that "either they knew not what they would have, or else that they were distracted in mind, or some such other like cause of the disorder of their supplication." "2 This form of suing unto kings were absurd. This form of praying unto God they allow. When God was served with legal sacrifices, such was the miserable and wretched disposition of some men's minds, that the best of everything they had being culled out for themselves, if there were in their flocks any poor, starved, or diseased thing not worth the keeping, they thought it good enough for the altar of God, pretending (as wise hypocrites do when they rob God to enrich themselves) that the fatness of calves doth bene 1 i.e., the taste of the Puritans. This passage is given as a specimen of Hooker's method of meeting particular objections. 2 These were the very words in which the Puritans expressed their opinions o the service of the Church; Hooker ingeniously retorts their own criticisms upon themselves. THE PSALMS, AND CHURCH MUSIC. 75 fit Him nothing, to us the best things are most profitable; to Him all as one if the mind of the offerer be good, which is the only thing He respecteth. In reproof of which their devout fraud, the prophet Malachi allegeth that gifts are offered unto God, not as supplies of His want indeed, but yet as testimonies of that affection wherewith we acknowledge and honour His greatness. For which cause, sith the greater they are whom we honour, the more regard we have to the quality and choice of those presents which we bring them for honour's sake, it must needs follow, that, if we dare not disgrace our worldly superiors with offering unto them such refuse as we bring unto God Himself, we show plainly that our acknowledgment of His greatness is but feigned; in heart we fear Him not so much as we dread them. 5. THE PSALMS, AND CHURCH MUSIC. (" ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY,” BOOK V. 37, 38.) The choice and flower of all things profitable in other books, the Psalms do both more briefly contain, and more movingly also express, by reason of that poetical form wherewith they are written. The ancients, when they speak of the Book of Psalms, use to fall into large discourses, showing how this part, above the rest, doth of purpose set forth and celebrate all the considerations and operations which belong to God; it magnifieth the holy meditations and actions of divine men; it is of things heavenly an universal declaration, working in them whose hearts God inspireth with the due consideration thereof, an habit or disposition of mind whereby they are made fit vessels both for receipt and delivery of whatsoever spiritual perfection. What is there necessary for man to know which the Psalms are not able to teach? They are to beginners an easy and familiar introduction, a mighty augmentation of all virtue and knowledge in such as are entered before, a strong confirmation to the most perfect amongst others. Heroical magnanimity, exquisite justice, grave moderation, exact wisdom, repentance unfeigned, unwearied patience, the mysteries of God, the sufferings of Christ, the terrors of wrath, the comforts of grace, the works of providence over this world, and the promised joys of that world which is to come, all good necessary to be either known or done or had, this one celestial fountain yieldeth. Let there be any grief or disease incident into the soul of man, any wound or sickness named, for which there is not in this treasure-house a present comfortable remedy at all times ready to be found. Touching musical harmony, whether by instrument or by voice, it being but of high and low in sounds a due proportionable disposition, such notwithstanding is the force thereof, and so pleasing effects it hath in that very part of man which is most divine, that some have been thereby induced to think that the soul itself by nature is, or hath in it, harmony. A thing which delighteth all ages, and beseemeth all states; a thing as seasonable in grief as in joy; as decent being added unto actions of greatest weight and solemnity, as being used when men most sequester themselves from action. The reason hereof is an admirable facility which music hath to express and represent to the mind, more inwardly than any other sensible mean, the very standing, rising, and falling, the very steps and inflections every way, the turns and varieties of all passions whereunto the mind is subject; yea, so to imitate them, that whether it resemble unto us the same state wherein our minds already are, or a clean contrary, we are not more contentedly by the one confirmed, than changed and led away by the other. In harmony, the very image and character even of virtue and vice is preserved, the mind delighted with their resemblances, and brought, by having them often iterated, into a love of the things themselves. For which cause there is nothing more contagious and pestilent than some kinds of harmony; than some, nothing more strong and potent unto good. And that there is such a difference of one kind from another, we need no proof but our own experience, inasmuch as we are at the hearing of some more inclined unto sorrow and heaviness; of some, more mollified and softened in mind; one kind apter to stay and settle us, another to move and stir our affections; there is that draweth to a marvellous grave and sober mediocrity; there is also that carrieth as it were into ecstacies, filling the mind with a heavenly joy, and for the time in a manner severing it from the body. So that, although we lay altogether aside the consideration of ditty or matter, the very harmony of sounds being framed in due sort, and carried from the ear to the spiritual faculties of our souls, is, by a native puissance and efficacy, greatly available to bring to a perfect temper whatsoever is there troubled; apt as well to quicken the spirits, as to allay that which is too eager; sovereign against melancholy and despair; forcible to draw forth tears of devotion, if the mind be such as can yield them; able both to move and to moderate all affections. They must have hearts very dry and tough from whom the melody of Psalms doth not sometimes draw that wherein a mind religiously affected delighteth. II. LORD BACON. FRANCIS BACON was born in London, 22d January 1561. His father, Sir Nicholas Bacon, was Keeper of the Great Seal; and his mother, a lady of distinguished ability, translated Jewel's "Apology" into English. The young Bacon was, at the age of thirteen, sent to Trinity College, Cambridge, where he remained little more than two years. After a brief sojourn on the Continent he returned to London, and applied himself to the study of law; but though his abilities soon became known, though his relations were of high rank, and he himself made a conspicuous figure in Parliament, he was very slow in obtaining promotion. Even the influence of Elizabeth's powerful favourite 1 i.e., the subject, the words of the song. |