Heaven with millions he has saved," and, in short, serves as a text to show that the keen satirist of Boileau, the charming humourist whose sense delights us as much as his wit elsewhere, could at need write fulsome rubbish to which Boileau would have been ashamed to set his hand. Now to the student of literature it is, though a by no means uncommon, always an interesting thing to turn to books which have been the subject of hyperbolical praise in their own day, and have been nearly forgotten since. Turning thus to the Practical Discourse concerning Death, we shall find it to be very much what might be expected. In another case, the Discourse on Future Judgment, which is also drawn upon here, Sherlock informs us that part of it had been actually preached, and the tone of all these discourses suggests, as well as their form, the pulpit rather than the study as a scene, the hearer rather than the reader as a public. Not that they are extremely rhetorical; but they are eminently exoteric. They are addressed to presumably educated readers, but in their manner there is something of an anticipation of that tone of the modern newspaper article which is reflected in the well-known advice to a commencing journalist, "You must not be too clever." Sherlock, in fact, was not too clever or too learned; he had escaped some inconveniences, though he might have reaped fewer solid benefices, if his share of both these gifts had been greater. But he is competent in learning and in ability, well-bred, persuasive, not too enthusiastic, as the age was already beginning to say, and deeply imbued with that not unkindly but somewhat unheroic and intensely commonsense morality which dominated the religion and the literature of the next century. He has not the polish of the younger generation of those who admired him; but, on the other hand, he has still a touch of the older directness and simplicity. Above all, he is completely free from the somewhat arrogant and insulting preponderance of intellect which made his elder contemporary and enemy, South, not exactly loved, and which made his younger contemporary, Bentley, feared and hated. He was too hardened a controversialist to show traces of the almost too abundant milk of human kindness which flowed in Tillotson; but there is nothing savage or overweening about him. Indeed, it is fair to say that it is greatly to Addison's credit, when rightly considered, that, though the form of that great writer's famous reflections on tombs is his own, the substance is practically Sherlock's. In short, the Master of the

Temple had seized, and to some extent anticipated, the temper and thoughts of the average best men of his age, and had expressed them in competent, if not consummate, manner. This is almost a definition of the secret of popularity.

Thomas Sherlock was superior to his father, both in general intellectual ability and in special literary faculty; and he had the advantages of an almost finished style put ready into his hands. But he paid for this by being the contemporary of more distinguished writers in his own fields, and by the fact that the pulpit, though still powerful, was less powerful than it had been, and that the gradual “taming" process, of which Tillotson had set the example, had brought its exercises close to the uninteresting. As a mere writer he could not vie with Addison or Swift; as a writer in controversial divinity he could not vie with Law on one side or Berkeley on another. Nevertheless, he exhibited the earlier form of eighteenth-century prose in a very good measure, and showed its capacities in the various uses to which he applied it. As has been said above, he marks progress particularly well when he is contrasted with his father. The half century of difference (though indeed there was not that between their births) is perceivable at once. The style of Sherlock the younger is not extraordinarily remarkable; but it is good of its kind. It has not seemed necessary to draw on his Sermons, but the Trial of the Witnesses and the Letter on the Earthquakes have each furnished a characteristic specimen. Those persons who retain the old English delight in a theological argument, conducted on sound logical principles, may be invited to turn from the extract here given from the Trial to the severer and more daring championship of orthodoxy on the same subject by the great antagonist of Sherlock's father, South.

GEORGE SAINTSBURY.

WILLIAM SHERLOCK

PREPARATION FOR DEATH A CURE FOR FEAR OF DEATH

IT betimes delivers us from the fears of death: and indeed it is then only a man begins to live, when he is got above the fears of death. Were men thoughtful and considerate, death would hang over them in all their mirth and jollity, like a fatal sword by a single hair; it would sour all their enjoyments, and strike terror into their hearts and looks. But the security of most men is, that they put off the thoughts of death, as they do their preparation for it: they live secure and free from danger, only because they will not open their eyes to see it. But these are such examples as no wise man will propose to himself, because they are not safe. And there are so many occasions to put these men in mind of death, that it is a very hard thing not to think of it; and whenever they do, it chills their blood and spirits, and draws a black melancholy veil over all the glories in the world. How are such men surprised when any danger approaches? When death comes within view, and shows his scythe, and only some few sands at the bottom of the glass? This is a very frightful sight to men who are not prepared to die: and yet should they give themselves liberty to think in what danger they live every minute, how many thousand accidents may cut them off, which they can neither foresee nor prevent; fear, and horror, and consternation, would be their constant entertainment, 'till they could think of death without fear; 'till they were reconciled to the thoughts of dying, by great and certain hopes of a better life after death.

So that no man can live happily, if he lives like a man with his thoughts and reason and consideration about him, but he who

takes care betimes to prepare for death and another world. 'Till this be done, a wise man will see himself always in danger, and then he must always fear. But he is a happy man, who knows and considers himself to be mortal, and is not afraid to die. His pleasures and enjoyments are sincere and unmix'd, never disturb'd with a handwriting upon the wall, nor with some secret qualms and misgivings of mind, he is not terrified with present dangers, at least not amazed and distracted with them. A man who is deliver'd from the fears of death, fears nothing else in excess but God. And fear is so troublesome a passion, that nothing is more for the happiness of our lives, than to be deliver'd from it. (From A practical Discourse concerning Death.)

CONSCIENCE POWERFUL AND IMPOTENT

A MAN'S own conscience cannot deceive him in this. Every man must know, whether he carefully avoid all known and wilful sins; whether he discharge all essential parts of his duty to God and men; especially, when he does any eminent services for God, and becomes an example of piety and virtue. A man, whose conscience gives this testimony to him, may securely hope and rejoice in God; for whatever other defects the pure eyes of God may see in him, they are all within the Grace and Mercy of the Gospel, and therefore cannot hinder his pardon, or his reward.

Thus we see, that when conscience absolutely condemns, or when without any doubt and hesitancy it commends, acquits, and absolves, its sentence is a Divine oracle, and assures us what our judgment shall be at the last day, if we be then found in such a state. But there is a middle state between these two, which deserves to be consider'd; when men are neither so wicked, as to be absolutely condemn'd by their own consciences, nor so good, as to be acquitted and absolved; which is an uncertain state between hope and fear. This is the case of those men who have been guilty of very great sins, which they had lived in many years; and tho' they are very sensible of their past wickedness, and heartily sorry for their sins, and seriously resolved by the grace of God to forsake them; yet they are not satisfied of the sincerity of their repentance, because they have not (with all their sorrow and resolutions) conquered their inclinations to

sin, nor broken the habits of it; but are guilty of frequent relapses, and fall into the commission of the same sins again; and then repent and resolve again; and as time wears off their sorrow for their last offence, their old inclinations revive, and a new temptation conquers again. Now such men's consciences neither absolutely condemn, nor absolutely acquit them, for the event is doubtful they are not conquerors yet, and it is uncertain whether ever they will conquer; and therefore their consciences cannot yet speak peace to them: And yet they are not perfect slaves and captives to sin, but contend for their liberty, and therefore their consciences do not absolutely condemn them; but as they prevail or yield, so their hopes or fears increase.

And this also is the case of those men, who if they commit no notorious wickedness, yet do very little good, nothing that their consciences can commend them for: who worship God rather in compliance with the custom of the place they live in, than from a vital sense and reverence of God, and therefore are not for any works of supererogation. And little will content them; and they are glad of any excuse to lessen that little; and all men, who pretend to greater devotion, they suspect of hypocrisy, and some secular interests.

(From A practical Discourse concerning a Future Judgment.)