Theological Eloquence of England and France-The Civil War-Persecution of the Clergy-Richard Hooker-His Life and CharacterTreatise on Ecclesiastical Polity—Jeremy Taylor-Compared with Hooker-His Life-Liberty of Prophesying-His other Works— The Restoration-Taylor's Sermons-Hallam's Criticism-Taylor's Digressive Style-Isaac Barrow-His immense Acquirements-Compared to Pascal-The English Universities.

In the department of Christian philosophy, and particularly in that subdivision of theological literature which embraces the eloquence of the pulpit, England has generally been considered inferior to many other European nations, and to France in particular. So splendid indeed are the triumphs of reasoning and of eloquence which are recalled to the remembrance of every cultivated mind at the mention of such illustrious names as Pascal, as Bossuet, as Bourdaloue, that the general reader (above all, the Continental one) is apt to doubt whether the Church of England has been adorned by any intellects comparable to these bright and shining lamps of Catholicism. We hope that we shall not be considered presumptuous if we endeavour to show that Great Britain does possess monuments of Christian eloquence equal or at least not inferior to the immortal productions of these great men, and, at the same time, if we attempt to explain how it has happened that the triumphs of English divinity are not so generally known and appreciated as those of the great French theologians. This latter circumstance will be found to proceed not only from the much more universal study throughout Europe of the French language as compared to the English (a partiality which, it must be confessed, is now daily wearing away), but also in some measure from the points of difference in many matters of religious belief and ecclesiastical discipline existing between the Anglican Church and that of Rome.

There is, in short, a much greater apparent accordance, in these points, between the opinions of most of the Continental Churches and those of Rome, than exists between Romanism and the Church of England. Add to this, too, the more imposing and dazzling character of the French style, particularly that of the French pulpit, at the splendid epoch so brilliantly adorned by these admirable productions, and we shall not be at a loss to attribute to its real cause the comparative neglect experienced by the works of Hooker, Taylor, Barrow, South, and Stillingfleet.

In instituting a general comparison between the productions of the French and English intellect, few persons have failed to remark one very striking point of dissimilitude, if not even of contrast; and this is, that the former will be found to possess their chief and characteristic beauties externally, while those of the latter are not to be perceived or appreciated without a greater degree of study and examination. We do not mean, by the use of the word “external,” in any way to imply that the productions of French genius do not possess merits as real and as solid as those which adorn any literature in the world; we wish to express that those merits lie nearer to the surface and are brought more prominently forward in the great trophies of French intellect than in those of the British mind. Whether we examine the drama of the two countries, their eloquence, or their poetry, we shall almost invariably find that, while the merits and peculiar graces of the Gallic intellect are conspicuously and prominently placed as it were in the foreground of the picture, the British Muse is of a coyer and more retiring temper, and only yields herself to ardent and persevering pursuit

"With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay."

This deep and internal character of our literature arises in a great measure from that Teutonic element which plays so important a part in every development of English nationality.

in the literature of the country, in its language, in its social condition, and in its political institutions. The regular and beautiful forms of classical literature-simple, severe, intelligible as the proportions of the Grecian architecture-which

the

the French have generally made their models, are certain at very first view to strike, to please, and to elevate; while the English literature—and no portion of it more justly than the one now under our consideration—may rather be compared to the artful wildness, the studied irregularity of some Gothic cathedral. Its proportions are less obvious, its outline less distinct; its rich and varied ornaments can only be understood, and its multiplicity of parts can only be harmonized into a beautiful and accordant whole, by the spectator who will pass some time and exert some patience in studying it, and whose eye must first overcome the mysterious gloom which pervades the solemn fabric.

But these remarks will be better substantiated by a comparison of the great works of theologic eloquence which we are about to examine in detail. Those qualities which we have already spoken of as characterising all the literary productions of the period of Queen Elizabeth will be found impressed upon no part of that literature with greater distinctness than upon this. Richness, fertility, universality are stamped upon all the writings of this unequalled era; and richness, fertility, and universality are the distinctive features of the style of the three great divines whom we have selected from a very large multitude as embodying in the highest degree the peculiar merits of their era—an era which, it is proper to remark, extended from the middle of Elizabeth's reign down to the period of the Restoration, and even some time beyond it.

The innumerable discordant sects into which the nation was split during the Commonwealth were much more calculated to encourage wild speculations in doctrine and fantastical innovations in practice than to promote the true interests of religion; and, with that narrow and persecuting bigotry which so strongly contrasted with their professions of universal toleration, the fanatics united all their efforts against the established Church of the country. Bitter as were their enmities towards one another, the thousand sects could at least find one point in which they were all agreed; and this was the annihilation of a Church whose riches and dignity excited at once their envy and their rapacity, while the learning and virtue of its most distinguished defenders must have been felt by them-bigots

at once and fanatics as they were as a tacit reproach upon their own blatant ignorance and plebeian ferocity.

A multitude of the regular clergy were driven from their pulpits, and persecuted with every ingenuity that triumphant malice could devise: many men, venerable for their virtues and illustrious for their learning, were hounded like wild beasts from the tranquil retreats of their universities and the industrious obscurity of their parishes. The Church of England underwent a fierce and unrelenting ordeal, and, in passing through that fiery trial, showed that all the severities of a tyrannical and fanatic government might indeed oppress, but could never humiliate it. It was in imprisonment, in exile, and in poverty that that Church strung its nerves and strengthened itself for its noblest exploits; it was when crushed beneath the armed foot of military fanaticism that it gave out, like the fragrant Indian tree, its sweetest odours of sanctity and its most precious balm of Christian doctrine; and let it be recorded to the glory of these much-tried and illustrious victims, that when the storm of tyranny had passed away, and the Anglican Church was once more restored to its holy places, it used its victory mercifully, as it had supported its affliction patiently. It had suffered persecution, and it had learned forgiveness.

The three great men whose works we propose to examine occupy a period extending between the years 1553 and 1677, or rather more than a century—a century filled with vicissitudes of the gravest import to the fortunes of the English Church. We should not have ventured to take à view of this part of our subject embracing so long a period of time, and necessitating the consideration of so many, so various, and so important works, but from the reflection that these men and their productions bear one stamp and possess a singular resemblance in mode of thought and tone of language; they all belong, intellectually if not chronologically, to the Elizabethan era.

Hooker.

The first of them in point of time is Richard Hooker, born near Exeter in 1553, and enabled, by the wise benevolence of the venerable Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury, to study at the University of Oxford, where he speedily distinguished himself for his vast learning and in

dustry, no less than by a simplicity and purity of character almost angelic.

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Having attracted the notice of Bishop Sandys, he was made tutor to that prelate's son, who, together with Cranmer, a descendant of the archbishop, enjoyed the benefit of Hooker's superintendence, and who ever afterwards retained for his wise and simple preceptor the warmest veneration and respect. After occupying for a short time the chair of Deputy Professor of Hebrew, he entered into holy orders, and married. This last important act of life was productive of so much affliction, even to his pious and gentle spirit, and was entered upon with a guileless simplicity so characteristic of Hooker's unworldly temper, that we cannot refrain from giving the anecdote as related by his friend and biographer Walton. Arriving wet and weary in London, he put up there at a house set apart for the accommodation of the preachers who had to deliver the sermon at Paul's Cross. His hostess treated him with so much kindness that Hooker's gratitude induced him to accept a proposition made by her of procuring him a wife. This she accordingly did in the person of her own daughter, a silly clownish woman, and withal a mere Xantippe," whom he accordingly married, and who appears to have inflicted upon her simple and patient husband an uninterrupted succession of such penance as ascetics usually exercise upon themselves in the hope of recompence in a future existence. When visited, at a rectory in Buckinghamshire to which he was afterwards presented, by his old pupils Sandys and Cranmer, Hooker was found in the fields tending sheep and reading Horace, possibly contrasting the sweet pictures of rural life painted by the Venusian hard with the vulgar realities which surrounded him. On returning to the house the guests "received little entertainment except from the conversation of Hooker," who was disturbed by his wife's calling him away to rock the cradle. On their departure the next morning Cranmer could not refrain from expressing his sympathy with Hooker's domestic miseries, with his poverty and the obscurity of his condition. "My dear George," replied this Christian philosopher, "if saints have usually a double share in the miseries of this life, I, that am none, ought not