the disposition is to heaven, the centre of blessedness, the stronger will the motion be to break through all difficulties that are in the passage thereunto. Let us therefore get a purifying hope, that we may be fit for the cross. III. Hope doth not only dispose us for the good things to come, but it waits for them unto the end. Hope is a waiting grace; it makes a Christian's life to be a perpetual waiting. "All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come," saith Job. Job had many changes; but he waited for that great one which should bring him into a state of unchangeable happiness. Whatever holy men are a-doing still, they are in a waiting posture. When Jacob was blessing his sons, he did not forget this, but broke out in a sudden, sweet ejaculation, "I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord" (Gen. xlix. 18). Hope makes Christians to wait for the good things to come at all times, but in a special manner in time of suffering. St Paul, speaking first of the suffering saints, and then of the groaning world, expresseth himself thus: "We ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body; for we are saved by hope" (Rom. viii. 23, 24). Here we may observe the true state and posture of the saints. Afflictions make them groan; but the Divine hope, the first-fruits of the Spirit, makes them wait for a better world, in which adoption and redemption shall have their complete perfection. It is the very nature of Divine hope to wait for the good things to come. When the sun of prosperity shines, it waits in a way of obedience. "Lord, I have hoped for thy salvation, and do thy commandments," saith David (Ps. cxix. 166). He waited in a way of obedience to God's commands. And when the storm of persecution comes, it waits in a way of patience. Hence the apostle speaks of "the patience of hope" (1 Thess. i. 3). That hope which, in prosperity, waited in a way of obedience, will, in adversity, wait in a way of patience. Hope would have the Christian to be always waiting for the upper world, but when the cross comes it presseth upon him more vehemently, and will speak after this manner to him: What, hast thou waited for the great reward in heaven in duties and ordinances, and wilt thou not wait for it in sufferings too! Heaven is the same still, and sufferings are not worthy to be compared with it: do but suffer a little, and thou shalt be there. When the martyr Ananias, in the Persian persecution, seemed to tremble at the approaching cross, Pusices spake thus to him: "Paulisper, O senex, oculos claude; nam statim lumen Dei videbis ;" "Shut thine eyes a little, old man, and immediately thou shalt see the light of God." Excellent is that of the apostle: "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal" (2 Cor. iv. 17, 18). Here, it is observable, affliction is light and momentary, but glory is a "weight," and "eternal;" there is no proportion between them. If by hope we look at the invisible and eternal things, this will support our hearts, that it is but a little short suffering, and we shall be in heavenly bliss for ever. Let us therefore labour after a waiting hope, that we may patiently bear the cross. JEREMY TAYLOR: THE POET OF THE PULPIT. OUR readers are already acquainted with that dear old manso devout, so sprightly, so warm-hearted-who offered up his life in the midst of his parishioners at Hadleigh, a martyr of the English Reformation.* The intermediate history of his family is unknown; but in 1613 there was living in Cambridge, a barber, (and according to the usage of the times, he would practise as a surgeon also) who claimed to be the martyr's descendant; and in that year Nathaniel Taylor's third son, Jeremiah, was born. Along with more shining attributes, he was destined to re-exhibit much of the meekness, devotion, and tender affection of his illustrious ancestor. Reasonably learned," as his father was, and pursuing his vocation in a chief haunt of the Muses, it was not difficult for him to obtain for his son a classical education: and accordingly in 1633, and when he was still under twenty-one years of age, we find the name of Jeremy Taylor among the Fellows of Caius College. At the same early age he was ordained, and having been invited by a friend to London to take his place as lecturer at St Paul's, his beautiful countenance and his eloquent discourse, enhanced by his extremely youthful appearance, made a great impression on the audience. His fame reached Lambeth, and he was commanded to preach before the Primate. The same discernment which recognised the great powers of Chillingworth, and which perceived in Hales qualities worthy of preferment, notwithstanding his rationalism and anti-romanism, * See "Christian Classics," vol. i. p. 113. at once detected the genius and the rich promise of the young and precocious preacher. At the earliest opportunity Laud procured for him a fellowship in All Souls', Oxford, and in 1637 he presented him to the rectory of Uppingham in Rutlandshire, Here he married his first wife, Phoebe Langsdale, whom he lost after a union of less than four years, and here he was appointed chaplain to King Charles I. The living of Uppingham being sequestered on account of the incumbent's loyalty, Taylor followed the royal army, and was taken prisoner at the siege of Cardigan Castle in 1644. Soon after he married a natural daughter of the king, Joanna Bridges, a lady who possessed some property in Carmarthenshire, but which in those disordered days probably did not yield its wonted revenue: as for some time we find that, like Milton, Taylor was obliged to maintain himself as a school master. -- But better things awaited him. His noble neighbour, Lord Carbery, opened to him the gates of his mansion, and in the splendid seclusion of Golden Grove, he composed his "Life of Christ," his "Holy Living," and his "Holy Dying," and the greater part of his sermons. These were among his happiest days. "He was surrounded by affectionate friends, who loved and honoured him; the griping fangs of penury were loosened. Rich houses or jewels, Tyrian silks and Persian carpets, he neither possessed nor coveted. But he had entered into the temporal promise of his Lord. Numberless are the passages written about this period, in which his hopeful gratitude breaks into praises of God's providence, and exhor tations to believe that He, who feeds the young ravens when they call upon Him, will also nourish every poor and trusting disciple." In 1654, under the name of "The Golden Grove," he published a devotional manual. It contained some severe reflec * Willmott's "Bishop Jeremy Taylor," p. 134. IMPRISONMENT. PROMOTION.-DEATH. 291 tions on those who had despoiled the churches, and silenced the liturgy; and for these expressions the author was arrested and thrown into prison. But this imprisonment obtained for him the friendship of John Evelyn; and when other sources of supply were cut off, the main reliance of the unbeneficed student was a pension allowed to him by this good old English gentleman. For a short time it would appear that Taylor preached to a congregation in London; but in the summer of 1658 he accepted an invitation from Lord Conway to accompany him to his mansion at Portmore, in Ireland, and conduct a lecture in the town of Lisburn. This migration introduced him to the sister isle, and the land of his adoption was soon to become the scene of his elevation. On the restoration of Charles II., he was nominated to the bishopric of Down and Connor, to which Dromore was added in April 1661. He was also chosen Vice-Chancellor of the University of Dublin. Such honours were never better earned, but they were not long enjoyed. As a devoted son of the Church of England, the good bishop must have rejoiced in the opportunity of serving her in his high office; but there were many things to weigh down the head which wore this mitre. Several of his children had died young, but two sons grew up. Of these the one entered the army, and fell in a duel with a brother officer belonging to the same regiment. The other was intended for the Church, but the seductions of the Court of Charles II. proved too strong for his feeble principles. He became secretary to the Duke of Buckingham, and copied too faithfully the profligacy and follies of his patron. The result was a consumption, of which he lay dying, when his sorrow-stricken father was seized by a fever, and after an illness of ten days," the English Chrysostom," " the Shakspere of Theology," as he has often been styled by his affec |