^gS*Y OF PRI^
BX 5037 ,H3 1808 v.l Hall, Joseph, 1574-1656 Works of the Right Reverend Father
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THE
WORKS '
OF 1 HE
RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD,
JOSEPH "H ALL, D. D
SUCCESSIV ELY BISHOP OF EXETER AMD NORWICH:
NOW FIRST COLLECTED. ;
WITH SOME
ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE AND SUFFERINGS,
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
ARRANGED AND REVISED,
WITH A GLOSSARY, INDEX, AND OCCASIONAL NOTES,
BY JOSIAH PRATT, B.D. F.J. S.
lec'it&ek of tilt united parishes of st. mary woolnotu asd st. marv woolchurch iuw, and lady, camden's Wednesday evening lecturer at the church of st. lawrence jewry, london.
IN TEN VOLUMES.
VOL. I.— CONTEMPLATIONS.
LONDON.
PIUNIED BY C. WHITTINGHAM, Dean Street ;
FOR WILLIAMS AND SMITH, STATIONERS' COURT; J. BURDITT; EYFIELD AND HAWKESWORTH; T. CONDER; J. IIATCHAUD; MATHEWS AND LEIGH; J. NUNN; F. C. AND J. RIVING TON ; L. B. SEELEV; .1. WALKER; J. WHITE; AND VERNOR, HOOD, AND SHARPK.
1803.
TO THE
KIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD,
GEORGE PRE TTYMAN TOMLINE, D. D.
LORD BISHOP OF LINCOLN, AND DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S;
THIS FIRST
COMPLETE COLLECTION
OF THE
WORKS OF BISHOP HALL
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
AS A TESTIMONY OF GRATITUDE FOR HIS EARLY AND WARM PATRONAGE OF THE UNDERTAKING,
BY HIS OBLIGED
AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,
THE EDITOR.
ADVERTISEMENT.
This Edition of the Works of Bishop Hall, will be fol- lowed by similar Editions of the Works of some other great Prelates, whose writings have not hitherto been pub- lished in a collective form. Those of BISHOP HOPKINS are now in the press, and will be comprised in Three large Volumes octavo.
Doughty Street, Feb. 1, 1808.
The following Pieces have been published separately.
Contemplations on the Old and New Testaments, 2 vols, demy, price 18s. boards : royal, 1/. 6s.
Practical Works, 2 vols, demy, price 18s. boards: royal, 1 1. 6s.
Devotional Works, l vol. demy, price 9s. boards : royal, 13s.
The Divine Right of Episcopacy, handsomely printed, price 3s. 6d. sewed.
PREFACE.
The Works of Bishop Hall have never, before the present undertaking, been completely collected. A great part, of them were published during his life, in various , sizes and forms, from quarto downwards : and nearly all those pieces were likewise collected, in two folio volumes ; which are usually called the First and Second Volumes of his works. A third folio was also published by himself, consisting wholly of his Paraphrase on Hard Texts. After those works appeared, he continued to publish other pieces in various sizes : the chief of which were printed, after his death, in what is called the Third Folio : and this was fol- lowed by a collection of some posthumous pieces in a quarto volume, denominated " The Shaking of the Olive-Tree." These with the " Virgidemiarum," the u Mundus Alter et Idem," the " Meditatiunculae Subitaneas," the " He- nochismus," and a few other treatises, constitute the whole of his published works, which the Editor has been able to discover. Some of his writings, which exist only in MS. or are to be gleaned from the w orks of his contemporaries, will appear in the Appendix to his Life, hereafter men- tioned. Among these will be included his Latin Sermon before the Synod of Dordt, never published separately, but printed among the Acts of that Synod.
Besides this advantage of completeness, the present edition will be found superior to any preceding, in Ar- rangement, Revision, and Illustration.
In respect to arrangement, no order whatever has been
Vlll
PREFACE.
observed in preceding editions. In the present, the various works have been classed together according to their sub- jects. The Contemplations form the First and Second volumes: the Paraphrase on Hard Texts, occupies the Third and Fourth : and these, as the Expository part of the Bishop's writings, are placed first in order. The Se?'?nons follow, in the Fifth volume ; arranged according to chro- nological series, so far as that could be ascertained : which order has been also followed in the Devotional Works, forming the Sixth volume ; and the Practical Works, con- tained in the Seventh and Eighth volumes. The Polemical U'orks are all brought together into the Ninth volume, and are arranged under three distinct heads : viz. 1. Those on the Questions between the Church of England and the Church of Rome : 2. Those on the Questions between the Church of England and the Dissenters: and 3. Those on the Five Points : and, under each of these divisions, the chronolo- gical order is observed, as nearly as it could be determined. The Miscellaneous JVorks close the whole, in the Tenth vo- lume : and in these, on account of the dissimilarity of the subjects, it was thought requisite to observe no other order than that of Prose and Poetry.
In the ef,vis;on of these admirable writings, the Editor has endeavoured to present them with every advantage of perspicuitv, which modern taste and good sense have ren- dered so common in the exhibition of a writer's sentiments. In the preceding editions, the paragraphs are sometimes of enormous length, and comprehend a variety of distinct subjects ; and, at other times, a single subject is divided into two or more paragraphs : great attention has been em- ployed to remedy this defect throughout the whole work, bv limiting every paragraph to a distinct subject. The punctuation also has been corrected throughout ; and has been formed on rules, which appear to the Editor conso- nant to nature and to the turn of the Author's mind. The orthography has been conformed to modern practice, ex- cept in the Author's poetical pieces ; where the old spell- ing is retained, both as a specimen of its nature, and be-
PREFACE.
ix
cause it was often rendered necessary to complete either the measure or the rhime. In the Author's style no alte- ration whatever has been made ; even in cases, where the change of public taste may now affix ideas of indelicacy or irreverence to expressions, which conveyed no such feel- ings in the Author's age : and this, because the Editor wished the reader to be fully satisfied that he was in pos- session of his author unaltered ; and he felt it to be im- practicable, if he altered at all, so to do it as not to incur the censure of doing it either too little or too much, ac- cording to the judgment and taste of the reader. The references to scripture throughout the whole work have been verified : and the Scriptures added at the end of each Contemplation on the Old and New Testaments.
In further illustration of his Author, the Editor has given ample tables of contents ; occasional nates, on some chronological and critical points ; a very full glossary of the obsolete or unusual words which occur in these vo- lumes ; and a copious, and he believes, accurate index to the whole series.
Translations of the Author's chief latin pieces are given in this edition. Both the English and the Latin of the " Occasional Meditations" being his own, they are printed in parallel' columns, by way of distinction from those treatises which were translated by others, the English of which is printed under the Latin. Of these, the Sermon entitled " Columba Noae," was translated by his son Ro- bert ; as was his " Inurbanitati Pontificiae Responsio :" but his admirable tract entitled " Henochismus" w as given in a very loose and verbose English dress, by the Rev. Henry Brown, Vicar of Nether-Swell. This last treatise the Editor has revised throughout, and brought nearer to the original. The Editor once intended to give a transla- tion of the " Mundus Alter et Idem ;" taking as the ground-work a singular and humorous version of this piece by John Ilealey, a copy of which is now very rarely to be met with : but he found the translator so often degene- rating into ribaldry, and the original to require so much
X
PREFACE.
delicacy aud elucidation, that he abandoned the design ; not without hopes that some person of leisure and ability may be induced to give this fine piece of Irony a suitable English dress. Of the other Latin pieces, viz. the trea- tise entitled " Pax Terris," and a few Letters among the Polemical Works, the Editor, not finding any translation already made, did not think them of such importance as to require one.
The Editor originally proposed to accompany this edi- tion with a new life of the author : but, finding the ma- terials for such a work accumulate very much in his hands, he has judged it best to limit this publication to the Bishop's own writings ; and has, therefore, prefixed only such memoirs as the Author has left of himself ; reserving whatever else he has been able to collect together for a se- parate volume, to be published hereafter, and to be inde- pendent of the present undertaking. He would only here add to what the Author has said of himself in the " Spe- cialities" of his Life, his " Letter from the Tower," and his " Hard Measure," that he was gathered to his fathers in a good old age ; dying at Higham, near Norwich, Sep. 8. 16.56, aged eighty-two years: and was buried in the church-yard at that place.
GENERAL CONTENTS
OF THE
TEN VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
Some Specialities in the Life of Bishop Hall. Letter from the Tower. Bishop Hall's Hard Measure.
Contemplations on the Old Testament : Books i. to xviii.
VOL. II.
Contemplations on the Old Testament : Books xix, xx, and xxi. Contemplations on the New Testament.
VOL. III.
Paraphrase on Hard Texts : Genesis to Daniel.
VOL. IV.
Paraphrase on Hard Texts : Hosea to Revelation.
Sermons.
VOL. V.
xii
GENERAL CONTENTS,
VOL. VI.
Devotional Works.
Meditations and Vows. Holy Observations. Occasional Meditations. Meditation on the Love of Christ. Selec Thoughts. Supernumeraries.
The Breathings of the Devout Soul. Soliloquies.
The Soul's Farewell to Earth, and Approaches to Heaven. The Great Mystery of Godliness. The Invisible World.
VOL. VII.
Practical Works.
Heaven upon Earth.
The Art of Divine Meditation.
Characters of Virtues and Vices.
Epistles. VI Decades.
A Consolatory Letter to one under Censure.
Letter of Answer to an Unknown Complainant.
Resolutions for Religion.
Henoch ismus.
The Remedy of Profaneness.
Christian Moderation.
Holy Decency in the Worship of God.
The Devout Soul.
The Free Prisoner.
VOL. VIII.
Practical Works, concluded.
Of Contentation. The Peace Maker. The Balm of Gilead. Christ Mystical. The Christian.
Satan's Fiery Darts Quenched.
Pax Terris.
Cases of Conscience.
The Holy Order of Mourners in Sion.
Songs in the Night.
GENERAL CONTENTS.
xiii
VOL. IX.
Polemical Works.
Part I. On the Questions between the Church of England, and the Church
of Rome.
A Serious Dissuasive from Popery. No Peace with Rome. The Honour of the Married Clergy. Letter to the Archbishop of Spalato. The Old Religion. The Reconciler. Catholic Propositions. Inurbanitati Pontificiae Responsio. Letter to a Knight.
On Christ's Presence in the Sacrament.
Part II. On the Questions between the Church of England and the Dissenters,
An Apology against Brownists.
Letter to Mr. William Struthers.
Letter on the Observation of Christ's Nativity.
Certain Irrefragable Propositions.
Episcopacy by Divine Right.
An Humble Remonstrance for Liturgy and Episcopacy.
Defence of the Humble Remonstrance.
Answer to Smectvmnuus's Vindication.
A Modest Offer."
Imposition of Hands.
For Episcopacy and Liturgy.
Part III. On the Five Points.
Via Media : The Way of Peace.
A Letter concerning Falling Away from Grace.
D. Balthasari Willio Epistola.
D. Ludovico Crocio Epistola.
D. Hermanno Hildebrando Epistola.
VOL. X.
Miscellaneous Works.
A Brief Sum of the Principles of Religion. Solomon's Divine Arts.
Answer to Arguments against Bishops sitting in Parliament.
GENERAL CONTENTS.
A Speech in Parliament.
A Speech in Parliament, in Defence of the Canons made in Con vocation.
A Speech in Parliament, concerning the Power of Bishops in Se
cular Things. An Apologetical Letter to a Person of Quality. The Revelation Unrevealed. Mundus Alter et Idem. Quo Vadis ? A Censure of Travel. Metaphrase of some Psalms. Anthems for the Cathedral of Exeter. Virgidemiarum. — Satires, in VI. Books. Glossary. Index.
List of Subscribers. Errata.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
I. Observations of some Specialities of Divine Provi- dence in the Life of Joseph Hall, Bishop of Nor- wich. Written with his own Hand xvii.
II. A Letter sent from the Tower to a Private Friend xlvii.
III. Bishop Hall's Hard Measure liii.
IV. Contemplations on the Old Testament.
BOOKS I. to XVIII. Dedication to Henry Prince of Wales.
BOOK I. Dedicated to Thomas, Earl of Exeter.
The Creation 3 Cain and Abel 15
Man 8 The Deluge 17
Paradise 12
BOOK II. Dedicated to the Lord Stanhope.
Noah 21 Isaac Sacrificed 29
Babel 24 Lot and Sodom 32
Abraham 26
BOOK III. Dedicated to the Lord Denny.
Jacob and Esau 36 Judah and Tamar 46
Jacob and Laban 41 Joseph 49
Dinah 44
BOOK IV. Dedicated to James, Lord Hay.
The Affliction of Israel 58 Moses's Calling 67
The Birth and Breeding of Moses... 62 The Plagues of Egypt 71
Dedication to Prince Charles 80
BOOK V. Dedicated to Henry, Ear l of Huntingdon.
The Waters of Marah 81 The Foil of Amalek ; or the Hand
The Quails and Manna 85 of Moses lift up 94,
The Rock of Rephidin 90 The Law 9g
The Golden-Calf. 102
BOOK VI. Dedicated toTHOMAS, Lord Viscount Fenton.
The Veil of Moses 110 The Searchers of Canaan 123
Nadab and Abihu 115 Corah's Conspiracy 127
Aaron and Miriam 119
BOOK VII. Dedicated to Edward, Lord Denny.
Aaron's Censer and Rod 132 Phineas 147
The Brazen Serpent 136 The Death of Moses 150
Balaam 139
BOOK VIII. Dedicated to Master Robert Hay.
Rahab 155 Achan 16S
Jordan divided 158 The Gibeonites „,.., 17J
The Seige of Jericho 1C2
XVI CONTENTS.
BOOK IX. Ded icated to Sir Thomas, Egerton, KnigHt.
The Rescue of GibeOn 176 Gideon's Calling 190
The Altar of the Reubenites 180 Gideon's Preparation and Victory.. 195
Ehud and Eglon 183 The Revenge of Succoth and Penuel. 199
Jael and S^sera 187 Abimelech's Usurpation 203
BOOK X. Dedicated to Sir Henry Danvers, Knight.
Jephtha 208 Samson's Victory 223
Samson Conceived 213 Samson's End 228
Samson's Marriage 218 Micah's Idolatry 233
BOOK XI. Dedicated to Sir Fulke Greville, Knight.
The Levite's Concubine 238 Hannah and Peninnah 256
The Desolation of Benjamin 243 Eli and Hannah 259
Naomi and Euih 247 Eli and his Sons 262
Boaz and Ruth 251
BOOK XII. Dedicated to the Lord Hay.
The Ark and Dagon 270 The Inauguration of Saul 288
The Ark's Revenge and Return 274 Samuel's Contestation 291
The Removal of the Ark 279 Saul's Sacrifice 294
The Meeting of Saul and Samuel... 282 Jonathan's Victory and Saul's Oath 297
BOOK XIII. Dedicated to Sir Thomas Edmonds, Knight.
Saul and Agag 302 David and Goliah 312
The Rejection of SauJ, and Choice Jonathan's Love, and Saul's Envy.. 319
of David 306 Michal's Wile 323
David called to the Court 310 David and Abimelech 326
BOOK XIV. Dedicated to Philip, Earl of Montgomery.
Saul in David's Cave 331 Ziklag Spoiled and Revenged 348
Nabal and Abigail 334 The Death of Saul 352
David and Achish 339 Abner and Joab 356
Saul and the Witch of Endor 344
BOOK XV. Dedicated to William, Lord Burleigh.
Uzzah and the Ark Removed 361 Nathan and David 380
Mephibosheth and Ziba 366 Amnon and Tamar 384
Hanun and David's Embassadors.. 37 1 Absalom's Return and Conspiracy 388 David with Bathsheba and Uriah... 375
BOOK XVI. Dedicated to Francis, Lord Russell.
Shimei Cursing 393 Sheba's Rebellion 406
Ahitophel 397 The Gibeonites Revenged 410
The Death of Absalom 401 The Numbering of the People 414
BOOK XVIL Dedicated to Sir Henry Mildmay, Knight.
Adonijah defeated 419 Solomon's Choice, with his Judg-
David's End, and Solomon's Be- ment upon the Two Harlots 43 L
ginning 423 The Temple 435
The Execution of Joab and. Shimei 428 Solomon, and the Queen of Sheba.. 439
Solomon's Defection 443
BOOK XVIII. Dedicated to James, Lord Haye.
Rehoboam •. 449 Elijah with the Sareptan 476
Jeroboam 455 Elijah with the Baalites 481
The Seduced Prophet 4 60 Elijah running before Ahab,— flying
Jeroboam's Wife 465 from Jezebel 488
Asa 470
OBSERVATIONS
OF SOME SPECIALITIES OP
DIVINE PROVIDENCE
LIFE OF JOSEPH HALL,
BISHOP OF NORWICH.
WRITTEN WITH HIS OWN HAND.
Not out of a vain affectation of my own glory, which I know how littie it can avail me, when I am gone hence ; but out of a sincere desire to give glory to my God, whose wonderful Providence I have noted in all my ways, have I recorded some remarkable passages of my fore-past life. What I have done is worthy of nothing, but silence and forgetfulness ; but what God hath done for me, is worthy of everlasting and thankful memory.
I was born July 1, 1574, at five of the clock in the morning, in Bristow-Park, within the Parish of Ashby de la Zouch, a Town in Leicestershire, of honest and well- allowed parentage.
My Father was an officer under that truly honourable and religious, Henry Earl of Huntingdon, President of the North ; and, under him, had the government of that Market-Town, wherein the chief seat of that Earldom is placed.
My Mother Winifride, of the House of the Barn- bridges, was a woman of that rare sanctity, that, were it
b
xviii bishop hall's account of himself.
not for my interest in nature, I durst say, that neither Aleth the mother of that just Honour of Clareval, nor Monica, nor any other of those pious matrons antiently famous for devotion, need to disdain her admittance to comparison. She was continually exercised with the affliction of a weak body, and oft of a wounded spirit : the agonies whereof, as she would oft recount with much passion, professing that the greatest bodily sicknesses were but flea-bites to those scorpions ; so, from them all, at last she found a happy and comfortable deliverance. And that, not without a more than ordinary hand of God: for, on a time, being in great distress of conscience, she thought in her dream, there stood by her a grave personage, in the gown and other habits of a physician ; who, enquiring of her estate, and receiving a sad and querulous answer from her, took her by the hand, and bade her be of good com- fort, for this should be the last fit that ever she should feel of this kind : whereto she seemed to answer, that, upon that condition, she could well be content for the time, with that or any other torment : reply was made to her, as she thought, with a redoubled assurance of that happy issue of this her last trial : whereat she began to conceive an unspeakable joy ; which yet, upon her awaking, left her more disconsolate, as then conceiting her happiness ima- ginary, her misery real : when, the very same day, she was visited by the reverend and (in his time) famous Divine, Mr. Anthony Gilby, under whose ministry she lived ; who, upon the relation of this her pleasing vision and the con- trary effects it had in her, began to persuade her, that dream was no other than divine, and that she had good reason to think that gracious premonition was sent her from God himself : who, though ordinarily he keeps the common road of his proceedings ; yet, sometimes, in the distresses of his servants, he goes unusual ways to their relief: hereupon she began to take heart; and, by good counsel and her fervent prayers, found that happy predic- tion verified to her ; and, upon all occasions in the remain- der of her life, was ready to magnify the mercy of her
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
XIX
God in so sensible a deliverance. What with the trial of both these hands of God, so had she profited in the School of Christ, that it was hard for any friend to come from her discourse no whit holier. How often have I blessed the memory of those divine passages of experimental divinity, which I have heard from her mouth ! What day did she pass, without a large task of private devotion ? whence she would still come forth, with a countenance of undis- sembled mortification. Never any lips have read to me such feeling lectures of piety : neither have I known any soul, that more accurately practised them, than her own. Temptations, desertions, and spiritual comforts were her usual theme. Shortly, for I can hardly take off my pen from so exemplary a subject, her life and death were saint- like.
My Parents had, from mine infancy, devoted me to this Sacred Calling, whereto, by the blessing of God, I have seasonably attained. For this cause, I was trained up in the public school of the place.
After I had spent some years, not altogether indiligent- ly, under the ferule of such masters as the place afforded, and had near attained to some competent ripeness for the University, my school-master, being a great admirer of one Mr. Pelset, who was then lately come from Cam- bridge, to be the public preacher of Leicester ; (a man very eminent in those times, for the fame of his learning, but especially for his sacred oratory,) persuaded my father, that if I might have my education under so excellent and complete a Divine, it might be both a nearer and easier way to his purposed end, than by an academical institu- tion. The motion sounded well in my father's ears, and carried fair probabilities : neither was it other than fore- compacted betwixt my school-master and Mr. Pelset ; so as, on both sides, it was entertained with great forwardness.
The gentleman upon essay taken of my fitness for the use of his studies, undertakes within one seven years to send me forth, no less furnished with Arts, Languages, and grounds of Theorical Divinity, than the carefullest tutor
XX
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
in the strictest College of either University. Which that he might assuredly perform, to prevent the danger of any mutable thoughts in my parents or myself, he desired mu- tual bonds to be drawn betwixt us. The great, charge of my father, whom it pleased. God to bless with twelve chil- dren, made him the more apt to y ield to so likely a project for a younger son.
There and now, were all the hopes of my future life upon blasting. The indentures were preparing : the time was set : my suits were addressed for the journey.
What was the issue ? O God, thy Providence made and found it. Thou knowest how sincerely and heartily, in those my young years*, I did cast myself upon thy hands : with what faithful resolution I did, in this particular occa- sion, resign myself over to thy disposition ; earnestly beg- ging of thee in my fervent prayers to order all things to the best, and confidently waiting upon thy will for the event. Certainly, never did I, in all my life, more clearly roll myself upon the Divine Providence, than I did in this business. And it succeeded accordinglv.
It fell out at this time, that my elder brother, having some occasions to journey unto Cambridge, was kindly en- tertained there by Mr. Nath. Gilby, Fellow of Lmanuel College : who, for that he was born in the same town with me, and had conceived some good opinion of my. aptness to learning, enquired diligently concerning me ; and, hear- ing of the diversion of my father's purposes from the Uni- versity, importunately dissuaded from that new course, professing to pity the loss of so good hopes. My brother, partly moved with his words, and partly won by his own eyes, to a great love and reverence of an academical life, returning home, fell upon his knees to my father ; and, after the report of Mr. Gilby 's words and his own admira- tion of the place, earnestly besought him, that he would be pleased to alter that so prejudicial a resolution, that he would not sutler my hopes to be drowned in a shallow
* Anno jEtatis 15.
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE. XXI
country-channel ; but that he would revive his first pur- poses for Cambridge ; adding, in the zeal of his love, that if the chargeableness of that course were the hinderance, lie did there humbly beseech him, rather to sell some part of that land, which himself should in course of uature in- herit, than to abridge me of that happy means to perfect my education. No sooner had he spoken those words, than my father no less passionately condescended ; not without a vehement protestation, that, whatsoever it might cost him, I should, God willing, be sent to the University. Neither were those words sooner out of his lips, than there was a messenger from Mr. Pelset knocking at the door, to call me to that fairer bondage ; signifying, that the next day he expected me, with a full dispatch of all that busi- ness : to whom my father replied, that he came some mi- nutes too late, that he had now otherwise determined of me j and, with a respective message of thanks to the mas- ter, sent the man home empty, leaving me full of the tears of joy for so happy a change.
Indeed I had been but lost, if that project had succeed- ed ; as it well appeared in the experience of him, who suc- ceeded in that room, which was by me thus unexpectedly forsaken.
O God, how was I then taken up, with a thankful ac- knowledgment and joyful admiration of thy Gracious Pro- vidence over me !
And now I lived in the expectation of Cambridge : whi- ther, ere long, I happily came, under Mr. Gilby's tuition, together with my worthy friend Mr. Hugh Cholmley, who, as we had been partners of one lesson from our cradles, so were we now for many years partners of one bed.
My two first years were necessarily chargeable, above the proportion of my father's power : whose not very large cistern, was to feed many pipes besides mine. His wea- riness of expence was wrought upon by the counsel of some unwise friends, who persuaded him to fasten me upon that school as master, whereof I was lately a scholar.
Now was I fetched home, with a heavy heart : and now,
xxii
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
this second time, had mine hopes been nipped in the blos- som, had not God raised me up an unhoped benefactor, Mr. Edmund Sleigh of Derby (whose pious memory I have cause ever to love and reverence) out of no other re- lation to me, save that he married my aunt. Pitying my too apparent dejectedness, he voluntarily urged and soli- cited my father for my return to the University ; and of- fered freely to contribute the one half of my maintenance there, till I should attain to the degree of Master of Arts; ■u hich he no less really and lov ingly performed. The con- dition was gladly accepted.
Thither was I sent back, with joy encrugh ; and, ere long, chosen Scholar of that strict and well ordered College.
By that time I had spent six years there, now the third year of my Bachelorship should at once both make an end of my maintenance, and in respect of standing give me a capacity of further preferment in that house, were it not that my country excluded me : for our Statute allowed but one of a shire to be fellow there ; and, my tutor being of the same town with me, must therefore necessarily hold me out.
But, O my God, how strangely did thy gracious Pro- vidence fetch this business about ! I was now entertaining motions of remove.
A place was offered me in the island of Guernsey which I had in speech and chase. It fell out, that the fa- ther of my loving chamberfellow, Mr. Cholmley, a gentle- man that had likewise dependance upon the most noble Henry Earl of Huntingdon, having occasion to go to York, unto that his Honourable Lord, fell into some men- tion of me. That good Earl, who well esteemed my father's service, having belikely heard some better words of me than I could deserve, made earnest enquiry after me, what were my courses, what my hopes : and, hearing of the like- lihood of my removal, professed much dislike of it ; not without some vehemence, demanding why I was not chosen Fellow of that College, wherein by report I received such
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
xxiii
approbation. Answer was returned, that my country de- barred me ; which, being filled with my tutor, whom his Lordship well knew, could not by the Statute admit a se- cond. The Earl presently replied, that, if that were the hiuderance, he would soon take order to remove it. Whereupon his Lordship presently sends for my tutor Mr. Gilby unto York; and, with proffer of large conditions of the chaplainship in his house, and assured promises of bet- ter provisions, drew him to relinquish his place in the Col- lege to a free election. No sooner was his assent signified, than the days were set for the public (and indeed exqui- site) examination of the competitors. By that time two days of the three allotted to this trial were past, certain news came to us of the inexpected death of that incom- parably Religious and Noble Earl of Huntingdon; by whose loss my then disappointed tutor must necessarily be left to the wide world unprovided for. Upon notice there- of, I presently repaired to the Master of the College, Mr. Dr. Chaderton ; and besought him to tender that hard condition to which my good tutor must needs be driven, if the election proceeded ; to stay any farther progress in that business ; and to leave me to my own good hopes wheresoever, whose youth exposed me both to less needs, and more opportunities of provision. Answer was made me, that the place was pronounced void however ; and, therefore, that my tutor was divested of all possibility of remedy, and must wait upon the Providence of God for his disposing elsewhere, and the election must necessarily proceed the day following. Then was I, with a cheerful unanimity, chosen into that Society; which if it had any equals, I dare say had none beyond it, for good order, stu- dious carriage, strict government, austere piety : in which I spent six or seven years more, with such contentment, as the rest of my life hath in vain striven to yield.
Now was I called to public disputations often, with no ill success : for never durst I appear in any of those exer- cises of scholarship, till I had from my knees looked up to
xxiv
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
heaven for a blessing, and renewed my actual dependance upon that Divine Hand.
In this while, two years together was I chosen to the Rhetoric Lecture in the Public Schools ; where I was en- couraged with a sufficient frequence of auditors : but, find- ing that well applauded work somewhat out of my way, not without a secret blame of myself for so much excursion, I fairly gave up that task, in the midst of those poor accla- mations, to a worthy successor, Mr. Dr. Dod ; and betook myself to those serious studies, which might fit me for that High Calling whereunto I was destined.
Wherein after I had carefully bestowed myself for a time, I took the boldness to enter into Sacred Orders: the honour whereof having once attained, I was no niggard of that talent which my God had entrusted to me ; preaching often, as occasion was offered, both in country villages abroad, and at home in the most Awful auditory of the University.
And now I did but wait where and how it would please my God to employ me.
There was at that time a famous School erected at Ti- verton in Devon, and endowed with a very large pension ; whose goodly fabric was answerable to the reported main- tenance : the care whereof was, by the rich and bountiful founder, Mr. Biundel, cast principally upon the then Lord Chief Justice Popham. That faithful observer, having great interest in the Master of our House, Dr. Chaderton, moved him earnestly to commend some able, learned, and discreet Governour to that weighty charge; whose action should not need to be so much as his oversight. It pleased our Master, out of his good opinion, to tender this condi- tion unto me : assuring me of no small advantages, and no great toil : since it was intended the main load of the work should lie upon other shoulders. I apprehended the motion worth the entertaining. In that severe Society our times were stinted : neither was it wise or safe to refuse good offers. Mr. Dr. Chaderton carried me to London ; and there presented me to the Lord Chief Justice, with
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much testimony of approbation. The Judge seemed well apaid with the choice. I promised acceptance ; he, the strength of his favour. No sooner had I parted from the Judge, than, in the street, a messenger presented me with a letter, from the right virtuous and worthy Lady, of dear and happy memory, the Lady Drury of Suffolk, tendering the Rectory of her Halsted, then newly void, and very earnestly desiring me to accept of it. Dr. Chaderton, ob- serving in me some change of countenance, asked me what the matter might be. I told him the errand, and deliver- ed him the letter ; beseeching his advice : which when he had read, " Sir," quoth I, " methinks God pulls me by the sleeve ; and tells me it is his will, I should rather go to the east than to the west." " Nay," he answered, " I should rather think that God would have you go westward, for that he hath contrived your engagement before the tender of this letter ; which therefore coming too late, may receive a fair and easy answer." To this I besought him to pardon my dissent ; adding, that I well knew, that Divinity was the end whereto I was destined by my pa- rents ; which I had so constantly proposed to myself, that I never meant other, than to pass through this Western School to it : but I saw that God, who found me ready to go the farther way about, now called me the nearest and directest way to that sacred end. The good man could no further oppose ; but only pleaded the distaste, which would hereupon be justly taken by the Lord Chief Justice, whom I undertook fully to satisfy : which I did with no great difficulty ; commending to his Lordship, in my room, my old friend and chamber-fellow Mr. Cholmley : who, find- ing an answerable acceptance, disposed himself to the place ; so as we two, who came together to the University, now must leave it at once.
Having then fixed my foot at Halsted, I found there a dangerous opposite to the success of my ministry, a witty , and bold atheist, one Mr. Lilly ; who, by reason of his travails, and abilities of discourse and behaviour, had so deeply insinuated himself into my patron, Sir Robert
XXVI
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
Drury,- that there was small hopes, during his entireness, for me to work any good upon that Noble Patron of mine; who, by the suggestion of this wicked detractor, was set olf from me before he knew me. Hereupon, I confess, finding the obduredness and hopeless condition of that man, I bent my prayers against him ; beseeching God daily, that he would be pleased to remove, by some means or other, that apparent hinderance of my faithful labours : who gave me an answer accordingly ; for this malicious man, going hastily up to London to exasperate my patron against me, was then and there swept away by the pesti- lence, and never returned to do any farther mischief. Now the coast was clear before me ; and I gained everv day of the good opinion and favourable respects of that Honour- able Gentleman and my worth}- neighbours.
Being now therefore settled in that sweet and civil coun- try of Suffolk, near to St. Edmund's-Bury, my first work was to build up my house, which was then extremely ruinous.
Which done, the uncouth solitariness of my life, and the extreme incommodity of that single housekeeping, drew my thoughts, after two years, to condescend to the necessity of a married estate : which God no less strange- ly provided for me ; for, walking from the church on Mon- day in the Whitsun-week, with a grave and reverend Mi- nister, Mr. Grandidge, I saw a comely and modest gen- tlewoman standing at the door of that house where we were invited to a wedding-dinner ; and, enquiring of that worthy friend whether he knew her, " Yes," quoth he, *c I know her well, and have bespoken her for your wife." When I further demanded an account of that answer, he told me she was the daughter of a gentleman whom he much respected, Mr. George Winn iff of Bretenham ; that, out of an opinion had of the fitness of that match for me, he had already treated with her father about it, whom he found very apt to entertain it ; advising me not to ne- glect the opportunity, and not concealing the just praises of the modesty, piety, good disposition, and other virtues
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE. XXvii
that were lodged in that seemly presence. I listened to the motion, as sent from God ; and, at last, upon due pro- secution, happily prevailed ; enjoying the comfortable so- ciety of that meet help for the space of forty-nine years.
I had not passed two years in this estate, when my Noble Friend, Sir Edmund Bacon, with whom I had much entireness, came to me ; and earnestly solicited me for my company in a journey, by him projected to the Spa in Ar- denna : laying before me the safety, the easiness, the plea- sure, and the benefit of that small extravagance, if oppor- tunity were taken of that time, when the Earl of Hertford passed in Embassy to the Arch-Duke Albert of Brussels. I soon yielded ; as for the reasons by him urged, so espe- cially for the great desire I had to inform myself ocularly of the state and practice of the Iiomish Church ; the knowledge whereof might be of no small use to me in my holy station.
Having, therefore, taken careful order for the supply of my charge, with the assent and good allowance of my nearest, friends, I entered into this secret voyage.
We waited some days at Harwich for a wind ; which we hoped might waft us over to Dunkirk, where our Am- bassador had lately landed : but, at last, having spent a day and half a night at sea, we were forced, for want of favour from the wind, to put in at Queenborough : from whence coasting over the rich and pleasant country of Kent, we renewed our shipping at Dover ; and, soon land- ing at Calais, we passed after two days by waggon to the strong towns of Gravelines and Dunkirk : where I could not but find much horror in myself to pass under those dark and dreadful prisons, where so many brave English- men had breathed out their souls in a miserable captivity. From thence we passed through Winnoxberg, Ypi;es, Ghent, Courtray, to Brussels ; where the Ambassador had newly sat down before us.
That Noble Gentleman, in whose company I travelled, was welcomed with many kind visitations. Amongst the rest, there came to him an English Gentleman, who,
xxviii bishop hall's account of himself.
having run himself out of breath in the Inns of Court, had forsaken his country, and therewith his religion ; and was turned both bigot and physician, residing now in Brussels. This man, after few interchanges of compliment with Sir Edmund Bacon, fell into a hyperbolical predication of the wonderful miracles done newly by Our Lady at Zichem, or Sherpen-Heavell, that is Sharp Hill, by Lipsius Apri- collis : the credit whereof when that worthy Knight wit- tily questioned, he avowed a particular miracle of cure wrought by her upon himself. I, coming into the room in the midst of this discourse, habited not like a Divine but in such colour and fashion as might best secure my travel, and hearing my countryman's zealous and confident rela- tions, at last asked him this question : " Sir," quoth I, " put case this report of yours be granted for true, I be- seech you teach me what difference there is, betwixt these miracles which you say are wrought by this Lady, and those which were wrought by Vespasian by some vestals by charms and spells ; the rather, for that I have noted, in the late published report, of these miracles, some pa- tients prescribed to come upon a Friday, and some to wash in such a well before their approach, and divers other such charm-like observations." The gentleman, not expecting such a question from me, answered, " Sir, I do not profess this kind of scholarship ; but we have in the city many famous Divines, with whom if it would please you to con- fer, you might sooner receive satisfaction." I asked him whom he took for the most eminent Divine of that place. He named to me Father Costerus : undertaking that he would be very glad to give me conference, if I would be pleased to come up to the Jesuits' College. I willingly yielded. In the afternoon, the forward gentleman pre- vented his time to attend me to the Father, as he stiled him ; who, as he said, was ready to entertain me with a meeting. I went alone up with him. The porter, shut- ting the door after me, welcomed me with a Deo gratias. I had not staid long in the Jesuits' Hall, before Costerus came in to me : who, after a friendly salutation, fell into ^
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
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formal speech of the Unity of that Church, out of which is no salvation ; and had proceeded to lose his breath and labour, had not I, as civilly as I might, interrupted him with this short answer : " Sir, I beseech you mistake me not. My nation tells you of what religion I am. I come not hither, out of any doubt of my professed belief, or any purpose to change it ; but, moving a question to this gentleman concerning the pretended miracles of the time, he pleased to refer me to yourself for my answer : which motion of his I was the more willing to embrace, for the lame that I have heard of your learning and worth ; and, if you can give me satisfaction herein, I am ready to re- ceive it." Hereupon we settled to our places, at a table in the end of the hall ; and buckled to a further discourse. He fell into a poor and unperfect account of the difference of divine miracles and diabolical ; which I modestly re- futed. From thence he slipped into a choleric invective against our Church, which, as he said, could not yield one miracle ; and when I answered, that, in our Church, we had manifest proofs of the ejection of devils by fasting and prayer, he answered, that, if it could be proved, that ever any devil was dispossessed in our Church, he would quit his religion. Many questions were incidently traversed by us ; wherein I found no satisfaction given me. The conference was long and vehement : in the heat whereof, who should come in but Father Baldwin, an English Je- suit, known to me, as by face (after I came to Brussels) so much more by fame. He sat down upon a bench, at the further end of the table, and heard no small part of our dissertation ; seeming not too well apaid, that a gen- tleman of his nation, (for still I was spoken to in that habit, by the stile of Dominatio vestra) should depart from the Jesuits' College no better satisfied. On the next morning, therefore, he sends the same English Physician to my lodging, with a courteous compellation ; professing to take it unkindly, that his countryman should make choice of any other to confer with, than himself, who de- sired both mine acquaintance and full satisfaction. Sir
XXX BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
Edmund Bacon, in whose hearing the message was deliver- ed, gave me secret signs of his utter unwillingness to give way to my further conferences : the issue whereof, since we were to pass further and beyond the bounds of that protection, might prove dangerous. I returned a manner- ly answer of thanks to F. Baldwin ; but, for any further conference, that it were bootless. I could not hope to convert him, and was resolved he should not alter me ; and, therefore, both of us should rest where we were.
Departing from Brussels, we were for Namur and Liege. In the way we found the good hand of God, in delivering us from the danger of free-booters ; and of a nightly en- trance, amidst a suspicious convoy, into that bloody city.
Thence we came to the Spadane Waters : where I had good leisure to add a second Century of Meditations to those I had published before my journey.
After we had spent a just time at those medicinal wells, we returned to Liege ; and, in our passage up the river Mosa, I had a dangerous conflict with a Sorbonist, a Prior of the Carmelites, who took occasion by our kneeling at the receipt of the Eucharist, to persuade all the company of our acknowledgment of a transubstantiation. I satis- fied the cavil ; shewing upon what ground this meet pos- ture obtained with us. The man grew furious upon his conviction ; and his vehement associates began to join with him, in a right-down railing upon our Church and Reli- gion. I told them they knew where they were : for me, I had taken notice of the security of their laws, inhibiting any argument held against their religion established, and therefore stood only upon my defence ; not casting any aspersion upon theirs, but ready to maintain our own : which though I performed in as fair terms as I might, yet the choler of those zealots was so moved, that the paleness of their changed countenances began to threaten some pe- rillous issue, had not Sir Edmund Bacon, both by his eye and by his tongue, wisely taken me off. I subduced my- self speedily from their presence, to avoid further provo- cation. The Prior began to bewray some suspicions of
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE. XXXI
my borrowed habit ; and told them, that himself had a green satin suit once prepared for his travels into Eng- land : so as I found it needful for me, to lie close at Namur.
From whence travelling the next day towards Brussels in the company of two Italian Captains, Signior Ascanio Negro and another, whose name I have forgotten ; who, enquiring into our nation and religion, wondered to hear that we had any baptism or churches in England; the con- gruity of my Latin, in respect of their perfect barbarism, drew me and the rest into their suspicion : so as I might overhear them muttering to each other, that we were not the men we appeared. Straight the one of them boldly expressed his conceit ; and, together with this charge, be- gan to enquire of our condition. I told him, that the gen- tleman he saw before us was the grandchild of that re- nowned Bacon, the great Chancellor of England, a man of great birth and quality ; and that myself and my other companion travelled in his attendance to the Spa, from the train and under the privilege of our late ambassador : with which just answer I stopped their mouths.
Returning through Brussels, we came down to Antwerp, the paragon of cities : where my curiosity to see a solemn procession on St. John Baptist's Day might have drawn me into danger, through my willing unreverence, had not the hulk of a tall Brabanter, behind whom I stood in a corner of the street, shadowed me from notice.
Thence, down the fair river of Scheldt, we came to Flushing : where, upon the resolution of our company to stay some hours, I hasted to Middleburgh, to see an ancient colleague. That visit lost me my passage. Ere I could return, I might see our ship under sail for England. The Master had with the wind altered his purpose; and called aboard with such eagerness, that my company must either away, or undergo the hazard of too much loss. I looked long after them in vain; and, sadly returning to Middle- burgh, waited long, for an inconvenient and tempestuous passage.
XXX il
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
After some year and half, it pleased God inexpectedly to contrive the change of my station.
My means were but short at Halsted ; yet such as I oft professed, if my then patron would have added but one ten pounds by year, which I held to be the value of mv detained due, I should never have removed. One morn- ing, as I lay in my bed, a strong motion was suddenly glanced into my thoughts of going to London. I arose, and betook me to the way. The ground, that appeared of that purpose, was to speak with my patron Sir Robert Drary; if, by occasion of the public preachership of St. Edmund's Bury then offered me upon good conditions, I might draw him to a willing yieldance of that parcel of my due maintenance, which was kept back from my not over-deserving predecessor : who, hearing my errand, dis- suaded me from so ungainful a change, which had it been to my sensible advantage, he should have readily given way unto ; but not offering me the expected encourage- ment of my continuance.
With him I stayed, and preached on the Sunday follow- ing. That day Sir Robert Drury, meeting with the Lord Denny, fell belike into the commendation of my sermon. That religious and noble Lord had long harboured good thoughts concerning me, upon the reading of those poor pamphlets, which I had formerly published ; and long wish- ed the opportunity to know me. To please him in this de- sire, Sir Robert willed me to go and tender my service to his Lordship; which I modestly and seriously deprecated: yet, upon his earnest charge, went to his Lordship's gate ; where I was not sorry to hear of his absence.
Being now full of cold and distemper in Drury-lane, I was found out by a friend, in whom I had formerly no great interest, one Mr. Gurrey, tutor to the Earl of Essex. He told me how well my Meditations were accepted at the Prince's Court * ; and earnestly advised me to step over to Richmond, and preach to his Highness. I strongly
* Prince Henry.
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
XXXHl
pleaded my indisposition of body, and my inpreparation for any such work; together with my bashful fears, and utter unfitness fur such a presence. My averseness doubled his importunity : in tine, he left me not, till he had my engagement to preach the Sunday following at Richmond. Fie made way for me to that awful pulpit ; and encou- raged me by the favour of his Noble Lord, the Earl of Essex. I preached. Through the favour of my God, that sermon was not so well given, as taken : insomuch as that Sweet Prince signified his desire to hear me again the Tuesday following. Which done, that labour gave more contentment than the former : so as that Gracious Prince both gave me his hand and commanded me to his service.
My patron, seeing me, upon my return to London, looked after by some great persons, began to wish me at home ; and told me, that some or other would be snatch- ing me up. I answered, that it was in his power to pre- vent : would he be pleased to make my maintenance, but so competent as in right it should be, I would never stir from him. Instead of condescending, it pleased him to fall into an expostulation of the rate of competencies ; affirming the variableness thereof, according to our own estimation, and our either raising or moderating the causes of our expences. I shewed him the insufficiency of my means : that I was forced to write books to buy books. Shortly, some harsh and unpleasing answer so, disheartened me, that I resolved to embrace the first opportunity of my remove.
Now, while I was taken up with these anxious thoughts, a messenger (it was Sir Robert Wingfield of Northamp- ton's son) came to me from the Lord Denny, now Earl of Norwich, my after-most-honourable patron, entreating me from his Lordship to speak with him. No sooner came I thither, than, after a glad and noble welcome, I was en- tertained with the earnest offer of Waltham. The condi- tions were, like the mover of them, free and bountiful. I received them, as from the munificent hand of my God ;
xxxiv bishop hall's account of himself.
and returned, full of the cheerful acknowledgments of a gracious providence over me.
Too late now did my former Noble Patron relent ; and oft'er me those terms, which had, before, fastened me for ever.
I returned home, happy in anew master, and in a new patron : betwixt whom, I divided myself and my labours, with much comfort and no less acceptation.
In the second year of mine attendance on his Highness, when I came for my dismission from that monthly service, it pleased the Prince to command me a longer stay ; and, at last, upon mine allowed departure, by the mouth of Sir Thomas Challoner, his Governour, to tender unto me a motion of more honour and favour than I was worthy of : which was, that it was his Highness' pleasure and purpose, to have me continually resident at the Court as a constant attendant, while the rest held on their wonted vicissitudes: for which purpose, his Highness would obtain for me such preferments, as should yield me full contentment. I re- turned my humblest thanks, and my readiness to sacrifice myself to the service of so gracious a master ; but, being conscious to myself of my unanswerableness to so great expectation, and loth to forsake so dear and noble a patron who had placed much of his heart upon me, I did modestly put it off, and held close to my Waltham : where, in a constant course, I preached a long time, as I had done also at Halsted before, thrice in the week ; yet never durst I climb into the pulpit to preach any sermon, whereof I had not before, in my poor and plain fashion, penned every word in the same order, wherein I hoped to deliver it ; although, in the expression, I listed not to be a slave to syllables.
In this while, my worthy kinsman, Mr. Samuel Barton, Archdeacon of Gloucester, knowing in how good terms I stood at Court, and pitying the miserable condition of his native Church of Wolverhampton, was very desirous to engage me in so difficult and noble a service, as the re-
SOME SPECIALITIES IX HIS LIFE.
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demption of that captivated Church. For which cause he importuned me to move some, of my friends, to solicit the; Dean of Windsor, who by an ancient annexation is patron thereof, for the grant of a particular Prebend, when it should fall vacant in that Church. Answer was returned mc, that it was fore-promised to one of my Fellow-Chap- lains. I sat down, without further expectation. Some year or two after, hearing that it was become void, and meeting with that Fellow-Chaplain of mine, I wished him much joy of the Prebend. He asked me if it were void : I assured him so ; and, telling him of the former answer, delivered to me in my ignorance, of his engagement, wished him to hasten his possession of it. He delayed not. When he came to the Dean of Windsor for his pro- mised dispatch, the Dean brought him forth a letter from the Prince, wherein he was desired and charged to reverse his former engagement, since that other Chaplain was otherwise provided for ; and to cast that favour upon me. I was sent for, who least thought of it; and received the free collation of that poor dignity. It was not the value of the place, which was but nineteen nobles per annum, that we aimed at; but the freedom of a goodly Church, consisting of a Dean and eight Prebendaries competently endowed, and many thousand souls lamentably swallowed up by wilful recusants, in a pretended fee-farm for ever.
O God, what a hand hadst thou in the carriage of this work !
When we set foot in this suit (for another of the Pre- bendaries joined with me) we know not wherein to insist, nor where to ground a complaint : only we knew that a goodly patrimony was, by sacrilegious conveyance, de- tained from the Church. But, in the pursuit of it, such marvellous light, opened itself inexpectedly to us, in re- vealing of a counterfeit seal, found in the ashes of that burned house, of a false register ; in the manifestation of rasures and interpolations, and misdates of unjustifiable evidences ; that, after many years' suit, the wise and ho- nourable Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, upon a full hearing,
xxxvi bishop hall's account of himself.
adjudged these two sued-for Prebends, clearly to be re- turned to the Church, until, by Common Law, they could, if possibly, be revicted. Our great adversary, Sir Walter Leveson, finding it but loss and trouble to struggle for li- tigious sheaves, came off to a peaceable composition with me of forty pounds per annum for my part, whereof ten should be to the discharge of my stall in that Church, till the suit should by course of Common Law be determined: we agreed upon fair wars. The cause was heard at the King's Bench Bar: where a special verdict was given for us. Upon the death of my partner in the suit, in whose name it had now been brought, it was renewed ; a jury empannelled in the county : the foreman, who had vowed be would carry it for Sir "Walter Leveson howsoever, was, before the day, stricken mad, and so continued. We pro- ceeded with the same success we formerly had. While we were thus striving, a word fell from my adversary, that gave me intimation, that a third dog would perhaps come in, and take the bone from us both: which I finding to drive at a supposed concealment, happily prevented ; for I presently addressed myself to his Majesty, with a peti- tion for the renewing the charter of that Church ; and the full establishment of the lands, rights, liberties, thereto be- longing; which I easily obtained from those gracious hands. Now Sir Walter Leveson, seeing the patrimony of the Church so fast and safely settled, and misdoubting what issue those his crazy evidences would find at the Common Law, began to incline to offers of peace ; and, at last, drew him so far, as that he yielded to those two main conditions, not particularly tor myself, but for the •whole body of all those Prebends which pertained to the Church : First, that he would be content to cast up that fee-farm, which he had of all the patrimony of that Church ; and, disclaiming it, receive that which he held of the said Church by lease, from us the several Prebendaries ior term, whether of years, or, which he rather desired, of lives : Secondly, that he would raise the maintenance of every Prebend, (whereof some were but forty shillings,
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
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others three pounds, others four, kc) to the yearly value of thirty pounds to each man, during the said term of his lease : only, for a monument of my labour and success herein, I required that my Prebend might have the addi- tion of ten pounds per annum, above the fellows. We were busily treating of this happy match for that poor Church : Sir Walter Leveson was not only willing, but for- ward : the then Dean, Mr. Antonius de Dominis, Arch- bishop of Spalato, gave both way and furtherance to the dispatch : all had been most happily ended, had not the scrupulousness of one or two of the number deferred so advantageous a conclusion. In the meanwhile, Sir Walter Leveson dies ; leaves his young orphan ward to the King: all our hopes were now blown up ; an office was found of all those lands : the very wonted payments were denied, and I called into the Court of Wards, in fair likelihood, to forego my former hold and yielded possession. But there, it was justly awarded by the Lord Treasurer, then Master of the Wards, that the orphan could have no more, no other right than the father : I was, therefore, left in my former state: only, upon public complaint of the hard condition wherein the orphan was left, I suffered myself to be over-entreated, to abate somewhat of that evicted com- position. Which work having once firmly settled, in a just pity of the mean provision, if not the destitution of so many thousand souls, and a desire and care to have them comfortably provided for in the future, I resigned up the said Prebend to a worthy preacher, Mr. Lee, who should constantly reside there, and painfully instruct that great and long neglected people : which he hath hitherto per- formed, with great mutual contentment and happy suc- cess.
Now during this twenty-two years which I spent at Waltham, thrice was I commanded and employed abroad by his Majesty in public service.
First, in the attendance of the Right Honourable Earl of Carlisle, then Lord Viscount Doncaster, who was sent upon a Noble Embassy, with a gallant retinue into
xxxv in
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
France : whose entertainment there, the annals of that na- tion will tell to posterity. In the midst of that service, was I surprised with a miserable distemper of body ; which ended in a Diarrhoea Biliosa, not without some beginning, and further threats of a dysentery : wherewith I was brought so low, that there seemed small hope of my reco- very. Mr.. Peter Moulin, to whom I was beholden for his frequent visitations, being sent by my Lord Embassador to inform him of my estate, brought him so sad news there- of, as that he was much afflicted therewith ; well supposing his welcome to Wall ham could not but want much of the heart without me. Now the time of his return drew on, Dr. Moulin kindly offered to remove me, upon his Lord* ship's departure, to his own house ; promising me all care-* ful tendance. I thanked him ; but resolved, if I could but creep homewards, to put myself upon the journey. A lit- ter was provided ; but of so little ease, that Simeoiv's pe- nitential lodging, or a malefactor's stocks, had been less penal. I crawled down from my close chamber into that carriage : In qua videbaris mihi efjerri, tanquam in sanda- pild, as Mr. Moulin wrote to me afterward. That misery had I endured in all the long passage from Paris to Die ppe, being left alone to the surly muleteers, had not the provi- dence of my good God brought me to St. Germains, upon the very minute of the setting out of those coaches, which had staid there upon that morning's entertainment of my Lord Ambassador. How glad was I, that. I might change my seat and my company ! In the way, beyond all ex- pectation, I began to gather some strength. Whether the fresh air or the desires of my home revived me, so much •ind so sudden reparation ensued, as was sensible to my- self, and seemed strange to others. Being shipped at Dieppe, the sea used us hardly : and, after a night and a great part, of the day following, sent us back well wind- beaten, to that bleak haven whence we set forth, forcing us to a more pleasing land-passage, through the coasts of Normandy and Picardy : tow ai ds the end whereof, my former complaint returned upon me; and, landing with
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mo, accompanied me to and at my long-desired home. In this my absence, it pleased his Majesty graciously to con- fer upon me the Deanery of Worcester ; which, being pro- mised to me before my departure, was deeply hazarded while I was out of sight, by the importunity and under- hand-working of some great ones. Dr. Field, the learned and worthy Dean of Gloucester, was by his potent friends put into such assurances of it, that I heard where he took care for the furnishing that ample house. But God fetched it about for me, in that absence and nescience of mine: and that reverend and better deserving Divine was well satisfied with greater hopes, and soon after exchanged this mortal estate for an immortal and glorious.
Before I could go down, through my continuing weak- ness, to take possession of that dignity, his Majesty pleased to design me to his attendance into Scotland : where the great love and respect that I found, both from the Ministers and People, wrought me no small envy from some of our own. Upon a commonly received supposition, that his Majesty would have no further use of his Chap- lains, after his remove from Edinburgh, (forasmuch as the Divines of the country, whoreof there is great store and worthy choice, were allotted to every station) I easily ob- tained, through the solicitation of my ever honoured Lord of Carlisle, to return with him before my fellows. No sooner was I gone, than suggestions were made to his Majesty of my over plausible demeanour and doctrine to that already prejudicate people : for which his Majesty alter a gracious acknowledgment of my good service there done, called me, upon his return, to a favourable and mild account ; not more freely professing what informations had been given against me, than his own full satisfaction, with my sincere and just answer ; as whose excellent wis- dom well saw, that such winning carriage of mine could be no hinderance to those his great designs. At the same time, his Majesty, having secret notice that a letter was coming to me from Mr. W. Struther, a reverend and learned Divine of Edinburgh, concerning the Five Points
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HlMSF.f.F.
then proposed and urged to the Church of Scotland ; was pleased to impose upon me an earnest charge, to give him a full answer in satisfaction to those his modest doubts, and at large to declare my judgment concerning those re- quired observations : which I speedily performed, with so great approbation of his Majesty, that it pleased him to command a transcript thereof, as I was informed, publicly read in their most famous University : the effect where- of his Majesty vouchsafed to signify afterwards, unto some of my best friends, with allowance beyond my hopes.
It was not long after, that his Majesty, finding the exi- gence of the affairs of the Netherlandish Churches to re- quire it, both advised them to a Synodieal Decision ; and, by his incomparable wisdom, promoted the work. My un- worthiness was named for one of the Assistants of that Honourable, Grave, and Reverend Meeting : where I fail- ed not of my best service to that woefully distracted Church. By that time I had stayed some two months there, the unquietness of the nights in those garrison towns, working upon the tender disposition of my body, brought me to such weakness through want of rest, that it began to disable me from attending the Synod : which yet, as I might, I forced myself unto ; as wishing tliat my zeal could have discountenanced my infirmity. Where, in the mean time, it is well worthy of my thankful remem- brance, that, being in an afflicted and languishing condi- tion for a fortnight together with that sleepless distemper, yet it pleased God, the very night before I was to preach the Latin Sermon to the Synod, to bestow upon me such a comfortable refreshing of sufficient sleep, as whereby my spirits were revived, and I was enabled with much vigour and vivacity to perform that service : which was no sooner done, than my former complaint renewed upon me, and prevailed against all the remedies that the counsel of phy- sicians could advise me unto ; so as, after long strife, I was compelled to yield unto a retirement, for the time, to the Hague ; to see if change of place and more careful at-
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
Xli
tendance, which I had in the house of our Right Honour- able Ambassador, the Lord Carleton, now Viscount Dor- chester, might recover me. But when, notwithstanding all means, my weakness increased so far, as that there was small likelihood left of so much strength remaining, as might bring me back into England, it pleased his Gracious Majesty, by our Noble Ambassador's solicitation, to call me off; and to substitute a worthy Divine, Air. Dr. Goade, in my unwillingly forsaken room. Returning by Dort, I sent in my sad farewell to that grave Assembly ; who, by common vote, sent to me the President of the Synod and the Assistants, with a respective and gracious valediction. Neither did the Deputies of my Lords the States neglect, after a very respectful compliment sent from them to me by Daniel Ueinsius, to visit me : and, after a noble acknowledgment of more good service from me than I durst own, dismissed me with an honourable re- tribution ; and sent after me a rich medal of gold, the portraiture of the Synod, for a precious monument of their respects to my poor endeavours : who failed not, while I was at the Hague, to impart unto them my poor advice, concerning the proceeding of that Synodical Meeting. The difficulties of my return, in such weakness, were many and great : wherein, if ever, God manifested his special Providence to me, in overruling the cross accidents of that passage ; and, after many dangers and despairs, contriving my sale arrival.
After not many years' settling at home, it grieved my soul, to see our own Church begin to sicken of the same disease, which we had endeavoured to cure in our neigh- bours. Mr. Montague's tart and vehement assertions of .some positions, near of kin to the Remonstrants of Ne- therland, gave, occasion of raising no small broil in the Church. Sides were taken : pulpits every where rang of these opinions : but parliaments took notice of the divi- sion, and questioned the occasioner. Now, as one that desired to do all good offices to our dear and common Mother, I set my thoughts on work, how so dangerous a
xlii
nisiiop hall's account of himself.
quarrel might be happily composed : and, finding that mis-taking was more guilty of this dissention, than mis- believing ; (since it plainly appeared to me, that Mr. Montague meant to express, not Arminius, but B. Ove- rall, a more moderate and safe author, however he sped in delivery of him ;) I wrote a little project of pacification, wherein I desired to rectify the judgment of men, con- cerning this misapprehended controversy ; shewing them the true party in this unseasonable plea : and, because B. Overall went a midway, betwixt the two opinions which he held extreme, and must needs therefore somewhat differ from the commonly-received tenet in these points, I ga- thered out of B. Overall on the one side, and out of our English Divines at Dort on the other, such common pro- positions concerning these Five busy Articles, as wherein both of them are fully agreed. All which being put to- gether, seemed unto me to make up so sufficient a body of accorded truth, that all other questions moved hereabouts appeared merely superfluous ; and every moderate Chris- tian might find where to rest himself, without hazard of contradiction. These I made bold, by the hands of Dr. Young the worthy Dean of Winchester, to present to his Excellent Majesty, together with an humble motion of a peaceable silence to be enjoined to both parts, in those other collateral and needless disquisitions : which, if they might befit the Schools of Academical Disputants, could not certainly sound well from the Pulpits of Popular Au- ditories. Those reconciliatory papers fell under the eyes of some grave Divines on both parts. Mr. Montague professed that he had seen them, and would subscribe to them very willingly : others, that were contrarily minded, both English, Scottish, and French Divines, proffered their hands to a no less ready subscription. So as much peace promised to result, out of that weak and poor en- terprise, had not the confused noise of the misconstruc- tions of those, who never saw the work, crying it down for the very name's sake, meeting with the royal edict of a general inhibition, buried it in a secure silence.
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
xliii
I was scorched a little with this flame, which I desired to quench : yet this could not stay my hand from thrusting itself into a hotter fire.
Some insolent Romanists, Jesuits especially, in their bold disputations, (which, in the time of the treaty of the Spanish Match and the calm of that relaxation, were very frequent,) pressed nothing so much, as a Catalogue of the Professors of our Religion to be deduced from the primitive times ; and, with the peremptory challenge of the impossibility of this pedigree, dazzled the eyes of the simple : while some of our learned men, undertaking to satisfy so needless and unjust a demand, gave, as I con- ceived, great advantage to the adversary. In a just indig- nation to see us thus wronged by misstating the question betwixt us, as if we, yielding ourselves of another Church, originally and fundamentally different, should make good our own erection upon the ruins, yea, the nullity of theirs; and, well considering the infinite and great inconve- niences, that must needs follow upon this defence ; I ad- ventured to set my pen on work ; desiring to rectify the opinions of those men, whom an ignorant zeal had trans- ported, to the prejudice of our holy cause : laying forth the damnable corruptions of the Roman Church, yet making our game of the outward visibility thereof ; and, by this means, putting them to the probation of those newly obtruded corruptions, which are truly guilty of the breach betwixt us. The drift whereof being not well con- ceived, by some spirits that, were not so wise as fervent, I was suddenly exposed to the rash censures of many well affected and zealous Protestants ; as if I had, in a remis- sion to my wonted zeal to the truth, attributed too much to the Roman Church, and strengthened the adversaries' hands and weakened our own. This envy I was fain to take off, by my speedy Apologetical Advertisement ; and, after that, by my Reconciler, seconded with the unanimous Letters of such reverend, learned, sound Divines * both
* 13, Morton. B. Davcnant. Dr. Ptideaux, Dr. Primrose.
xliv bishop hall's account of himself.
Bishops and Doctors, as wnose undoubtable authority was able to bear down calumny itself: which done, I did, by a seasonable moderation, provide for the peace of the Church, in silencing both my defendants and challengers, in this unkind and ill-raised quarrel.
Immediately before the publishing of this Tractate, (which did not a little aggravate the envy and suspicion) I was by his Majesty raised to the Bishopric of Exeter ; having formerly, with much humble deprecation, refused the See of Gloucester earnestly proffered unto me. How, beyond all expectation, it pleased God to place me in that Western Charge ; which, if the Duke of Buckingham's letters, he being then in France, had arrived but some hours sooner, I had been defeated of; and, by what strange means it pleased God to make up the competency of that provision, by the unthought of addition of the Rectory of St. Breok within that Diocese ; if I should fully relate, the circumstances, would ibrce the confession of an extra- ordinary hand of God in the disposing of those events.
I entered upon that place, not without much prejudice and suspicion on some hands : for some, that sat at the stern of the Church, had me in great jealousy for too much favour of Puritanism. 1 soon had intelligence who were set over me for espials. My ways were curiously ob- served, and scanned. However, I took the resolution to follow those courses, which might most conduce to the peace and happiness of my new and weighty charge. Finding, therefore, some factious spirits very busy in that Diocese, I used all fair and gentle means to win them to good order ; and therein so happily prevailed, that, saving two of that numerous Clergy who continuing in their re- fractoriness fled away from censure, they were all perfectly reclaimed: so as I had not one Minister professedly oppo- site to the anciently received orders (for I was never guilty of urging any new impositions) of the Church in that large Diocese.
Thus we went on comfortably together, till some per- sons of note in the Clergy, being guilty of their own neg-
SOME SPECIALITIES IN HIS LIFE.
xlv
Iigence and disorderly courses, began to envy our success ; and, finding me ever ready to encourage those whom I found conscionably forward and painful in their places, and Willingly giving way to orthodox and peaceable Lectures in several parts of my Diocese, opened their mouths against me, both obliquely in the Pulpit and directly at the Court ; complaining of my too much indulgence to persons dis- affected, and my too much liberty of frequent Lecturings within my charge. The billows went so high, that I was three several times upon my knee to his Majesty, to an- swer these great criminations : and what contestation I had with some great Lords concerning these particulars, it would be too long to report : only this j under how dark a cloud I was hereupon I was so sensible, that I plainly told the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, that rather than I would be obnoxious to those slanderous tongues of his misinformers, I would cast up my rochet. I knew I went right ways, and would not endure to live under undeserved suspicions.
What messages of caution I had from some of my wary- brethren, and what expostulatory letters I had from above, I need not relate. Sure I am, I had peace and comfort at home, in the happy sense of that general unanimity and loving correspondence of my Clergy, till, in the last year of my presiding there, after the svnodical oath was set on foot, (which yet I did never tender to any one Minister of my Diocese) by the incitation of some busy interlopers of the neighbour county, some of them began to enter into an unkind contestation with me, about the election of Clerks of the Convocation ; whom they secretly, without ever acquainting me with their desire or purpose, as driving to that end which we see now accomplished, would needs nominate and set up in competition to those, whom I had, after the usual form, recommended to them. That they had a right to free voices in that choice, I denied not : only, I had reason to take it unkindly, that they would work underhand, without me, and against me ; professing, that if they had beforehand made their desires known to
xlvi bishop hall's account of himself.
me, I should willingly have gone along with them in their election. It came to the poll. Those of my nomination carried it.
The Parliament begun. After some hard tugging there, returning home upon a recess, I was met on the way, and cheerfully welcomed with some hundreds.
In no worse terms, I left that my once dear Diocese : when, returning to Westminster, I was soon called by his Majesty, who was then in the north, to a remove to Nor* wich.
But how I took the Tower in my way, and how I have been dealt with since my repair hither, I could be lavish in the sad report ; ever desiring my Good God, to enlarge my heart in thankfulness to him for the sensible experience I have had of his Fatherly hand over me in the deepest of all my afflictions, and to strengthen me for whatsoever other trials he shall be pleased to call me unto; that, being found faithful unto the death, I may obtain that crown of life, which he hath ordained for all those that overcome.
A
LETTER
SENT FROM THE TOWER,
TO A
PRIVATE FRIEND :
AND BY HIM THOUGHT FIT TO BE PUBLISHED.
TO MY MUCH RESPECTED GOOD FRIEND,
MR. H. S.
WORTHY SIR :
You think it strange, that I should salute you from hence. How can you choose, when I do yet still wonder to see myself here ? My intentions and this place are such stran- gers, that I cannot enough marvel how they met.
But, howsoever, I do in all humility kiss the rod, where- with I smart ; as well knowing whose hand it is, that wields it. To that Infinite Justice who can be innocent ? but to my King and Country never heart was or can be more clear ; and I shall beshrew my hand, if it shall have, against my thoughts, justly offended either : and if either say so, I reply not ; as having learned not to contest with those, that can command legions.
In the mean time, it is a kind, but a cold compliment, that you pity me ; an affection well placed, where a man
xlviii bishop hall's account of HIMSELF.
deserves to be miserable : for me, I am not conscious of such merit.
You tell me in what fair terms I stood, not long since, with the world ; how large room I had in the hearts of the best men : but can you tell me how I lost it ? Truly, I have, in the presence of my God, narrowly searched my own bosom. I have impartially ransacked this fag-end of my life, and curiously examined every step of my ways ; and I cannot, by the most exact scrutiny of my saddest thoughts, find what it is, that I have done to forfeit that good estimation, wherewith, you say, 1 was once blessed.
I can secret by arraign and condemn myself of infinite transgressions, before the tribunal of heaven. Who, that dwells in a house of clay, can be pure in his sight, that charged his angels with folly ? O God, when I look upon the reckonings betwixt thee and my soul, and find my shameful arrears, I can be most vile in my own sight, be- cause I have deserved to be so in thine : yet, even then, in thy most pure eyes, give me leave, the while, not to abdi- cate my sincerity. Thou knowest my heart desires to be right with thee, whatever my failings may have been ; and I know what value thou puttest upon those sincere desires, notw ithstanding all the intermixtures of our miserable in- firmities. These I can penitently bewail to thee : but, in the mean time, what have I done to men ? Let them not spare to shame me, with the late sinful declinations of my age ; and fetch blushes, if they can, from a wrinkled face.
Let mine enemies (for such I perceive I have, and those are the surest monitors) say what I have offended. For their better irritation, my clear conscience bids me boldly to take up the challenge of good Samuel, Behold, here I am ! Witness against vie before the Lord, and before his Anointed : zvhose ox have I taken t or zvhose ass have I taken f or whom have I defrauded ? zvhom have I oppres- sed f or of zvhose hand have I received any bribe., to blind- mine eyes therezvith f and I will restore it you.
Can they say, that I bore up the reins of government too hard ; and exercised my jurisdiction in a rigorous and
-HIS LETTER SENT FROM THE TOWER. xlix
tyrannical way, insolently lording it over my charge ? Malice itself, perhaps, would, but dare not speak it ; or, if it should, the attestation of so grave and numerous a Clergy would choak such impudence. Let them witness, whether they were not still entertained by me with an equal return of reverence, as if they had been all Bishops with me, or I only a Presbyter with them ; according to the old rule of Egbert, Archbishop of York, Intra domain 'Episcgpus collegam se Presbyteroram esse cognoscat. Let them say, whether ought here looked like despotical ; or t sounded rather of imperious commands, than of brotherly complying : whether I have not rather, from some be- holders, undergone the censure of a too humble remiss- ness ; as, perhaps, stooping too low beneath the eminence of Episcopal dignity : whether I have not suffered as much in some opinions, for the winning mildness of my adminis- tration, as some others for a rough severity.
Can they say, for this aspersion is likewise common, that I barred the free course of religious exercises, by the sup- pression of painful and peaceable preachers ? If shame will suffer any man to object it, let me challenge him to in- stance but in one name. Nay, the contrary is so famously- known in the western parts, that every mouth will herein justify me. What free admission and encouragement have I always given to all the sons of peace, that came with God's message in their mouths ! What missuggestions have I waved ! What blows have I borne off, in the behalf of some of them, from some gainsayers ! How have I often and publicly professed, that, as well might we com- plain of too many stars in the sky, as too many orthodox preachers in the Church !
Can they complain, that I fretted the necks of my Clergy with the uneasy yoke of new and illegal imposi- tions ? Let them, whom I have thus hurt, blazon my un- just severity, and write their wrongs in marble : but if, dis- liking all novel devices, I have held close to those ancient rules which limited the audience of our godly prede- cessors ; if I have grated upon no man's conscience by
d
i
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
the pressure, no not by the tender, of the late oath, of any unprescribed ceremony ; if I have freely, in the Com- mittee appointed by the most Honourable House of Peers, declared my open dislike in all innovations, both in doc- trine and rites ; why doth my innocence suffer ?
Can they challenge me as a close and back-stair-friend to Popery or Arminianism, who have, in so many pulpits and so many presses, cried down both ? Surely, the very paper, that I have spent in the refutation of both these, is enough to stop more mouths than can be guilty of this ca- lumny.
Can they check me with a lazy silence in my place ? with infrequence of preaching ? Let the populous audito- ries where I have lived witness, whether, having furnished all the churches near me with able preachers, I took not all opportunities of supplying such courses, as I could get, in my Cathedral ; and, when my tongue was silent, let the world say whether my hand were idle.
Lastly a since no man can offer to upbraid me with too much pompj which is wont to be the common eye-sore of our envied profession, can any man pretend to a ground of taxing me, as I perceive one of late hath most unjustly done, of too much worldliness ? Surely, of all the vices forbidden in the Decalogue, there is no one, which my heart, upon due examination, can less fasten upon me, than this. He, that made it, knows that he hath put into it a true disregard (save only for necessary use) of the world ; and of all that it can boast of, whether for profit, pleasure, or glory. No, no : I know the world too well to dote upon it. While I am in it, how can I but use it ? but I never care^ never yield to enjoy it. It were too great a shame for a Philosopher, a Christian, a Divine, a Bishop, to have his thoughts grovelling here upon earth : for mine, they scorn the employment j and look upon all these sublunary distractions, as upon this man's false censure, with no other eyes than contempt »
And noWj Sir, since I cannot, how secretly faulty soever, guess at my own public exorbitances, I beseech you,
HIS LETTER SENT FROM THE TOWER. li
n here you hear my name traduced, learn of mine accusers, whose lyncean eyes would seem to see farther into me than my own, what singular offence I have committed.
If, perhaps, my calling be my crime ; it is no other, than the most holy Fathers of the Church in the primitive and succeeding ages, ever since the Apostles, many of them also blessed Martyrs, have been guilty of : it is no other, than all the holy Doctors of the Church in all gene- rations, ever since, have celebrated, as most reverend, sa- cred, inviolable : it is no other, than all the whole Chris* tian World, excepting one small handfull of our neigh- bours, whose condition denied them the opportunity of this government, is known to enjoy, without contradic- tion. How safe is it erring in such company !
If my offence be in my pen, which hath, as it could, undertaken the defence of that Apostolical Institution, though with all modesty and fair respects to the Churches differing from us, I cannot deprecate a truth ; and such, I know this to be : which is since so cleared by better hands, that I well hope the better informed world cannot but sit down convinced. Neither doubt I, but that, as metals receive the more lustre with often rubbing, this truth, the more agitation it undergoes, shall appear every day more glorious. Only, may the Good Spirit of the Al* mighty speedily dispell all those dusky prejudices from the minds of men, which may hinder them from discerning so clear a light.
Shortly, then, knowing nothing by myself, whereby I have deserved to alienate any good heart from me, I shall resolve to rest securely upon the acquitting testimony of a good conscience, and the secret approbation of my Gra- cious God : who shall one day cause mine innocence to break forth as the morning light, and shall give me beauty for bonds -3 and, for a light and momentary affliction, an eternal weight of glory.
To shut up all, and to surcease your trouble, I write not this, as one, that would pump for favour and reputation from the disaffected multitude; for I charge you, that
Hi bishop hall's account of himself.
what passes privately betwixt us may not fall under com- mon eyes : but only with this desire and intention, to give you true grounds, where you shall hear my name mention- ed with a causeless offence, to yield me a just and chari- table vindication. Go you on still to do the office of a true friend, yea the duty of a just man, in speaking in the cause of the dumb, in righting the innocent, in rectifying the mis-guided ; and, lastly, the service of a faithful and Christian Patriot, in helping the times with the best aid of your prayers ; which is daily the task of
Your much devoted,
and thankful friend,
JOS. NORVIC.
From the Tower, Jan. 24, 1641.
BISHOP HALL'S
HARD MEASURE.
Nothing could be more plain, than that, upon the call of this Parliament, and before, there was a general plot and resolution of the Faction to alter the Government of the Church especially. The height and insolency of some Church-Governors, as was conceived, and the ungrounded imposition of some innovations upon the Churches both of Scotland and England, gave a fit hint to the project.
In the vacancy, therefore, before the summons, and im- mediately after it, there was great working secretly for the designation and election, as of Knights and Burgesses, so especially, beyond all former use, of the Clerks of Convo- cation : when now the Clergy were stirred up to contest with and oppose their Diocesans, for the choice of such men as were most inclined to the favour of an alteration.
The Parliament was no sooner sat, than many vehement speeches were made against established Church-Govern- ment, and enforcement of extirpation both root and branch.
And, because it was not fit to set upon all at once, the resolution was to begin with those Bishops, which had sub- scribed to the Canons then lately published, upon the shutting up of the former Parliament : whom they would first have had accused of treason ; but that not appearing feasible, they thought best to indict them of very high crimes and offences against the King, the Parliament, and Kingdom: which was prosecuted with great earnestness by some prime Lawyers in the House of Commons, and entertained with like fervency by some zealous Lords in the House of Peers every of those particular Canons
liv
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
being pressed to the most envious and dangerous height that was possible : the Archbishop of York (was designed for the report) aggravating Mr. Maynard's criminations to the utmost, not without some interspersions of his own. The Counsel of the accused Bishops gave in such a de- murring Answer, as stopped the mouth of that heinous in- dictment.
When this prevailed not, it was contrived to draw Peti- tions accusatory from many parts of the kingdom, against Episcopal Government ; and the promoters of the peti- tions were entertained with great respects : whereas the many petitions of the opposite part, though subscribed with many thousand hands, were slighted and disregarded.
Withal, the rabble of London, after their petitions cun- ningly and upon other pretences procured, were stirred up to come to the Houses personally to crave justice both against the Earl of Strafford, first ; and, then, against the Archbishop of Canterbury ; and, lastly, against the whole Order of Bishops : which, coming at first unarmed, were checked by some well willers, and easily persuaded to gird on their rusty swords ; and, so accoutered, came by thou- sands to the Houses, filling all the outer rooms, offering foul abuses to the Bishops as they passed, crying out "No Bishops, no Bishops ;" and, at last, after divers days' as- sembling, grown to that height of fury, that many of them, whereof Sir Richard Wiseman professed (though to his cost) to be Captain, came with resolution of some violent courses, insomuch that many swords were drawn hereupon at Westminster, and the rout did not stick openly to pro- fess that they would pull the Bishops in pieces. Messages were sent down to them from the Lords. They still held firm, both to the place and their bloody resolutions. It now grew to be torch-light. One of the Lords, the Mar- quis of Hertford, came up to the Bishops' Form, told us that we were in great danger, advised us to take some course for our own safety ; and, being desired to tell us what he thought was the best way, counselled us to conti- nue in the Parliament House all that night ; " For," saith
HIS HARD MEASURE.
iv
he, " these people vow they will watch you at your going out, and will search every coach for you with torches, so as you cannot escape." Hereupon the House of Lords was moved for some Order, for the preventing their muti- nous and riotous meetings, Messages were sent down to the House of Commons, to this purpose, more than once : nothing was effected ; but, for the present, (forsomuch as all the danger was at the rising of the House) it was ear- nestly desired of the Lords that some care might be taken of our safety. The motion was received by some Lords with a smile. Some other Lords, as the Earl of Man- chester, undertook the protection of the Archbishop of York and his company (whose shelter I went under) to their lodgings. The rest, some of them by their long stay, others by secret and far-fetched passages, escaped home.
It was not for us to venture any more to the House, without some better assurance. Upon our resolved for- bearance therefore, the Archbishop of York sent for us to his lodging at Westminster ; lays before us the perilous condition we were in ; advises for remedy, except we meant utterly to abandon our right and to desert our sta^ tion in Parliament, to petition both his Majesty and the Parliament, that, since we were legally called by his Ma- jesty's Writ to give our attendance in Parliament, we might be secured, in the performance of our duty and service, against those dangers that threatened us ; and, withal, to protest against any such Acts, as should be made during the time of our forced absence : for which he assured us there were many precedents in former Parlia- ments ; and which if we did not, we should betray the trust committed to us by his Majesty, and shamefully be- tray and abdicate the due right both of ourselves and suc- cessors.
To this purpose, in our presence, he drew up the said Petition and Protestation ; avowing it to be legal, just, and agreeable to all former proceedings ; and, being fair written, sent it to our several lodgings for our hands f
Ivi
BISHOP HALL'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
■which we accordingly subscribed, intending yet to have had some further consultation concerning the delivering and whole carriage of it. But, ere we could suppose it to be in any hand but his own, the first news we heard was, that there were Messengers addressed to fetch us in to the Parliament, upon an accusation of High Treason. For, whereas this Paper was to have been delivered, first to his Majesty's Secretary ; and, after perusal by him, to his Majesty ; and, after, from his Majesty to the Parlia- ment ; and, for that purpose, to the Lord Keeper, the Lord Littleton, who was the Speaker of the House of Peers ; all these professed not to have perused it at all : but the said Lord Keeper, willing enough to take this ad- vantage of engratiating himself with the House of Com- mons and the Faction, to which he knew himself suffi- ciently obnoxious, finding what use might be made of it by prejudicate minds, reads the same openly in the House of the Lords : and, when he found some of the Faction apprehensive enough of misconstruction, aggravates the matter, as highly offensive and of dangerous consequence; and, thereupon, not without much heat and vehemence, and with an ill preface, it is sent down to the House of Commons : tswhere it was entertained heinously; Glynne, with a full mouth, crying it up for no less than a High Treason ; and some comparing, yea preferring it to the Powder-Plot.
We, poor souls, who little thought that we had done any thing that might deserve a chiding, are now7 called to our knees at the Bar, and charged severally with High Treason ; being not a little astonished at the suddenness of this crimination, compared with the perfect innocence of our own intentions, which were only to bring us to our due places in Parliament with safety and speed, without the least purpose of any man's offence.
But, now, traitors we are in all the haste, and must be dealt with accordingly : for, on January SOth, in all the extremity of frost, at Eight o'Clock in the dark evening, are we voted to the Tower : only, two of our number had
HIS HARD MEASURE.
Ivii
the favour of the Black Rod, by reason of their age ; which, though desired by a Noble Lord on my behalf, would not be yielded. Wherein I acknowledge and bless the gracious Providence of my God : for, had I been gra- tified, I had been undone both in Body and purse ; the rooms being strait, and the expence beyond the reach of my estate.
The news of this our crime and imprisonment soon flew over the city ; and was entertained by our well-willers, with ringing of bells and bonfires : who now gave us up, not without great triumph, for lost men ; railing on our perfidiousness, and adjudging us to what foul deaths they pleased. And what scurrile and malicious pamphlets were scattered abroad, throughout the kingdom and in foreign parts, blazoning our infamy, and exaggerating our trea- sonable practices ! What insultations of our adversaries was here !
Being caged sure enough in the Tower, the Faction had now fair opportunities to work their own designs. They therefore, taking the advantage of our restraint, renew that Bill of theirs, which had been twice before* rejected since the beginning of this Session, for taking away the votes of Bishops in Parliament ; and, in a very thin house* easily passed it : which once condescended unto, I know not by what strong importunity, his Majesty's assent was drawn from him thereunto.
We now, instead of looking after our wonted honour, must bend our thoughts upon the guarding of our lives j which were, with no small eagerness, pursued by the vio- lent agents of the Faction. Their sharpest wits and greatest lawyers were employed to advance our impeach- ment to the height : but the more they looked into the business, the less crime could they find to fasten upon us : insomuch as one of their oracles, being demanded his judgment concerning the fact, professed to them, they might with as good reason accuse us of adultery. Yet, still, there are we fast : only, upon petition to the Lords, obtaining this favour, that we might have Counsel assigned
Iviii bishop hall's account of himself.
us : which, after much reluctation, and many menaces from the Commons against any man of all the Commoners of England that should dare to be seen to plead in this case against the Representative Body of the Commons, was granted us. The Lords assigned us five very worthy Lawyers, which were nominated to them by us. What trouble and charge it was, to procure those eminent and much employed Counsellors to come to the Tower to us ; and to observe the strict laws of the place, for the time of their ingress, regress, and stay ; it is not hard to judge.
After we had lain some weeks there, however the House of Commons, upon the first tender of our impeachment, had desired we might be brought to a speedy trial ; yet now, finding belike how little ground they had for so high an accusation, they began to slack their pace, and suffered us rather to languish under the fear of so dreadful arraignment : insomuch as now we are fain to petition the Lords, that we might be brought to our trial.
The day was set : several summons were sent unto us ; the Lieutenant had his warrant to bring us to the Bar : our impeachment was severally read : we pleaded " Not Guilty," modo et formd; and desired speedy proceedings ; which were accordingly promised, but not too hastily per- formed.
After long expectation, another day was appointed for the prosecution of this high charge. The Lieutenant brought us again to the Bar ; but, with what shoutings, and exclamations, and furious expressions of the enraged multitudes, it is not easy to apprehend. Being thither brought, and severally charged upon our knees, and having given our negative answers to every particular, two Bishops, London and Winchester, were called in as wit- nesses against us, as in that point, whether they appre- hended any such cause of fears in the tumults assembled, as that we were in any danger of our lives in coming to the Parliament : who seemed to incline to a favourable re- port of the perils threatened j though one of them was convinced out of his own mouth, from the relations him*
HIS HARD MEASURE.
lix
self had made at the Archbishop of York's lodging. After this Wild and GJynne made fearful declamations at the Bar against us ; aggravating all the circumstances of our pretended Treason to the highest pitch. Our Counsel were all ready at the Bar to plead for us, in answer of their clamorous and envious suggestions : but it was an- swered, that it was now too late, we should have another day : which day, to this day never came.
The circumstances of that day's hearing were more grievous to us than the substance: for we were all thronged so miserably in that strait room before the Bar, by reason that the whole House of Commons would be there to see the prizes of their champions played, that we stood the whole afternoon in no small torture ; sweating and struggling with a merciless multitude ; till, being dis- missed, we were exposed to a new and greater danger. For now, in the dark, we must to the Tower ; by barge, as we came : and must shoot the Bridge, with no small peril. That God, under whose merciful protection we are, returned us to our safe custody.
There now we lay some weeks longer, expecting the summons for our Counsels' answer ; but, instead thereof, our merciful adversaries, well finding how sure they would be foiled in that unjust charge of Treason, now, under pretences of remitting the height of rigour, wave their former Impeachment of Treason against us, and fall upon an Accusation of High Misdemeanours in that our Pro- testation, and will have us prosecuted as guilty of a Pre- munire : although, as we conceive, the law hath ever been in the Parliamentary Proceedings, that, if a man were im- peached, as of treason, being the highest crime, the accu- sant must hold him to the proof of the charge, and may not fall to any meaner impeachment upon failing of the higher.
But, in this case of ours, it fell out otherwise : for, al- though the Lords had openly promised us, that nothing should be done against us, till we and our Counsel were
Ix BISHOP HALl's ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
heard in our defence ; yet the next news we heard was, the House of Commons had drawn up a Bill against us, wherein they declared us to be delinquents of a very high nature, and had thereupon desired to have it enacted that all our spiritual means should be taken away : only, there should be a yearly allowance to every Bishop for his main- tenance, according to a proportion by them set down j wherein they were pleased that my share should come to four hundred pounds per annum. This Bill was sent up to the Lords, and by them also passed ; and there hath, ever since, lain.
This being done, after some weeks more, finding the Tower, besides the restraint, chargeable ; we petitioned the Lords, that we might be admitted to bail, and have liberty to return to our homes. The Earl of Essex moved : the Lords assented, took our bail, sent to the Lieutenant of the Tower for our discharge. How glad were we to fly out of our cage !
No sooner was I got to my lodging, than I thought to take a little fresh air, in St. James's Park ; and, in my re- turn to my lodging in the Dean's Yard, passing through Westminster Hall, was saluted by divers of my parliament acquaintance, and welcomed to my liberty : whereupon, some, that looked upon me with an evil eye, run into the House, and complained that the Bishops were let loose : which, it seems, was not well taken by the House of Com- mons ; who presently sent a kind of expostulation to the Lords, that they had dismissed so heinous offenders with- out their knowledge and consent.
Scarce had I rested me in my lodging, when there comes a messenger to me with the sad news, of sending me and the rest of my brethren the Bishops back to the Tower again : from whence we came, thither we must go ; and thither I went with a heavy, but I thank God, not impa- tient, heart.
After we had continued there some six weeks longer, and earnestly petitioned to return to our several charges,
HIS HARD MEASURE.
Ixi
we were upon five thousand pound Bond dismissed ; with a clause of revocation at a short warning, if occasion i should require.
Thus having spent the time betwixt New-year's Even and Whitsuntide in those safe walls, where we by turns preached every Lord's Day to a large auditory of citizens, we disposed of ourselves to the places of our several abode.
For myself, addressing myself to Norwich, whither it was his Majesty's pleasure to remove me, I was at the first received with more respect, than in such times I could have expected. There I preached, the day after my arrival, to a numerous and attentive people : neither was sparing of my pains in this kind, ever since ; till the times, growing every day more impatient of a Bishop, threatened my silencing.
There, though with some secret murmurs of disaffected persons, I enjoyed peace till the ordinance of sequestra- tion came forth, which was in the latter end of March fol- lowing ; then, when I was in hope of receiving the profits of the fore-going half year for the maintenance of my fa- mily, were all my rents stopped and diverted : and, in the April following, came the Sequestrators, viz. Mr. Sotherton, Mr. Tooley, Mr. JRawley, Mr. Greenwood, &c. to the Pa- lace ; and told me, that, by virtue of an Ordinance of Par- liament, they must seize upon the palace, and all the estate I had both real and personal ; and, accordingly, sent cer- tain men appointed by them, whereof one had been burnt in the hand for the mark of his truth, to apprize all the goods that were in the house : which they accordingly exe- cuted with all diligent severity ; not leaving so much as a dozen of trenchers, or my children's pictures, out of their curious inventory. Yea, they would have apprized our very wearing clothes, had not Alderman Tooley and She- riff Rawley, to whom I sent to require their judgment con- cerning the Ordinance in this point, declared their opinion to the contrary.
These goods, both library and household stuff of all
Ixii bishop hall's account of himself.
kinds, were appointed to be exposed to public sale. Much enquiry there was, when the goods should be brought to the market ; but, in the mean time, Mrs. Goodwin, a re- ligious good gentlewoman, whom yet we had never known or seen, being moved with compassion, very kindly offered to lay down to the Sequestrators that whole sum which the goods were valued at ; and was pleased to leave them in our hands for our use, till we might be able to repurchase them : which she did accordingly, and had the goods for- mally delivered to her by Mr. Smith and Mr. Greenwood, two Sequestrators. As for the books, several stationers looked on them ; but were not forward to buy them : at last, Mr. Cook, a worthy Divine of this Diocese, gave bond to the Sequestrators, to pay to them the whole sum whereat they were set : which was afterwards satisfied out of that poor pittance, that was allowed me for my mainte- nance. As for my evidences, they required them from me. I denied them ; as not holding myself bound to deliver them. They nailed and sealed up the door, and took such as they found with me.
But, before this, the first noise that I heard of my trou- ble was, that, one morning, before my servants were up, there came to my gates one Wright, a London Trooper, attended with others, requiring entrance ; threatening, if they were not admitted, to break open the gates : whom I found, at my first sight, struggling with one of my servants for a pistol, which he had in his hand. I demanded his business at that unseasonable time. He told me, he came to search for arms and ammunition, of which I must be disarmed. I told him I had only two muskets in the house, and no other military provision. He, not resting upon my word, searched round about the house, looked into the chests and trunks, examined the vessels in the cellar. Find- ing no other warlike furniture, he asked me what horses I had, for his commission was to take them also. I told him how poorly I was stored, and that my age would not allow me to travel on foot. In conclusion, he took one horse, for
HIS HARD MEASURE.
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ihe present : and such accompt of another, that he did highly expostulate with me afterwards, that I had other- wise disposed of him.
Now not only my rents present, but the arrearages of the former years which I had in favour forborne to some tenants, being treacherously confessed to the Sequestrators, were by them called for, and taken from me. Neither was there any course at all taken for my maintenance. I therefore addressed myself to the Committee sitting here at Norwich ; and desired them to give order for some means, out of that large patrimony of the Church, to be allowed me. They all thought it very just ; and, there . being present Sir Tho. Woodhouse, and Sir John Potts, parliament men, it was moved, and held fit by them and the rest, that the proportion which the votes of the Parlia- ment had pitched upon, v'xt. four hundred pounds per an- num, should be allowed to me. My Lord of Manchester, who was then conceived to have great power in matter of these sequestrations, was moved herewith. He apprehend- ed it very just and reasonable; and wrote to the Committee here, to set out so many of the manors belonging to this Bishoprick, as should amount to the said sum of four hun- dred pounds annually ; which was answerably done, under the hands of the whole Table.
And now I well hoped, I should yet have a good com- petency of maintenance out of that plentiful estate which I might have had : but those hopes were no sooner con- ceived, than dashed; for, before I could gather up one quarter's rent, there comes down an order from the Com- mittee for Sequestrations above, under the hand of Ser- geant Wild the Chairman, procured by Mr. Miles Corbet, to inhibit any such allowance ; and telling our Committee here, that neither they, nor any other, had power to allow me any thing at all : but, if my wife found herself to need a maintenance ; upon her suit to the Committee of Lords and Commons, it might be granted that she should have a fifth part, according to the Ordinance, allowed for the sus- tentation of herself and her family. Hereupon she sends
Ixiv bishop hall's account of himself.
a petition up to that Committee ; which, after a long delay, was admitted to be read, and an order granted for the fifth part.
But still the rents and revenues, both of my Spiritual and Temporal Lands, were taken up by the Sequestrators, both in Norfolk, and Suffolk, and Essex, and we kept off from either allowance or accompt.
At last, upon much pressing, Beadle the Solicitor, and Rust the Collector, brought in an account to the Com- mittee, such as it was ; but so confused and perplexed and so utterly imperfect, that we could never come to know what a fifth part meant : but they were content that I should eat my books, by setting off the sum, engaged for them out of the fifth part. Mean time, the Synodalls both in Norfolk and Suffolk, and all the Spiritual profits of the Diocese, were also kept back : only Ordinations and Institutions continued a while.
But after the Covenant was appointed to be taken, and was generally swallowed of both Clergy and Laity, my power of Ordination was, with some strange violence, re- strained : for when I was going on in my wonted course, which no law or ordinance had inhibited, certain forward volunteers in the city, banding together, stir up the Mayor and Aldermen and Sheriffs to call me to an account for an open violation of their Covenant.
To this purpose, divers of them came to my gates at a very unseasonable time ; and, knocking very vehemently, required to speak with the Bishop. Messages were sent to them to know their business : nothing would satisfy them but the Bishop's presence. At last, I came down to them, and demanded what the matter was : they would have the gate opened, and then they would tell me. I answered that I would know them better first : if they had any thing to say to me, I was ready to hear them. They told me they had a writing to me, from Mr. Mayor, and some other of their Magistrates. The paper contained both a challenge of me for breaking the Covenant, in or- daining Ministers j and, withal, required me to give in the
HIS HARD MEASURE.
Ixv
names of those, which were ordained by me both then and formerly since the Covenant. My answer was, that Mr. Mayor was much abused, by those, who had misinformed him, and drawn that paper from him ; that I would the next day give a full answer to the writing. They moved that my answer might be by my personal appearance at the Guildhall. I asked them when they ever heard of a Bishop of Norwich appearing before a Mayor. I knew mine own place ; and would take that way of answer, which I thought fit; and so dismissed them, who had given out that day, that had they known before of mine ordain- ing, they would have pulled me and those whom I ordain- ed out of the chapel by the ears.
AVhile I received nothing, yet something was required of me. They were not ashamed, after they had taken away and sold all my goods and personal estate, to come to me for assessments and monthly payments for that estate, which they had taken ; and took Distresses from me, upon my most just denial ; and vehemently required me to find the wonted arms of my predecessors, when they had left me nothing.
Many insolencies and affronts were, in all this time, put upon us. One while, a whole rabble of volunteers came to my gates late, when they were locked up, and called for the porter to give them entrance : which being not yielded, they threatened to make by force ; and, had not the said gates been very strong, they had done it. Others of them clambered over the walls, and would come into my house: their errand, they said, was to search for de- linquents : what they would have done I know not, had not we by a secret way sent to raise the officers for our rescue. Another while, the Sheriff Toftes and Alderman Linsey, attended with many zealous followers, came into my chapel, to look for Superstitious Pictures and Relics of Idolatry ; and send for me, to let me know they found those windows full of images, which were very offensive, and must be demolished, I told them they were the. pic -
e
Ixvi bishop hall's account of himself.
tures of some antient and worthy Bishops, as St. Ambrose, Austin, &c. It was answered me, that they were so many Popes ; and one younger man amongst the rest (Town- send, as I perceived afterwards) would take upon him to defend that every Diocesan Bishop wasPope. Iansweredhim with some scorn ; and obtained leave that I might, with the least loss and defacing of the windows, give order for taking off that offence ; which I did, by causing the heads of those pictures to be taken off, since 1 knew the bodies could not offend.
There was not that care and moderation used, in re- forming the Cathedral Church bordering upon my Palace. It is no other than tragical, to relate the carriage of that furious sacrilege, whereof our eyes and ears were the sad witnesses, under the authority and presence of Linsey, Toftes the Sheriff, and Greenwood. Lord, what work was here ! what clattering of glasses ! what beating down of walls ! what tearing up of monuments ! what pulling down of seats ! what wresting out of irons and brass from the windows and graves ! what defacing of arms ! what demolishing of curious stone-work, that had not any re- presentation in the world, but only of the cost of the foun- der, and skill of the mason ! what tooting and piping upon- the destroyed organ pipes ! and what a hideous triumph on the market-day before all the country ; when, in a kind of sacrilegious and profane procession, all the organ pipes, vestments, both copes and surplices, together with the lea- den cross which had been newly sawn down from over the Green- Yard Pulpit, and the service books and singing books that could be had, were carried to the fire in the public market-place; a lewd wretch walking before the train, in his cope trailing in the dirt, with a service-book in his hand, imitating in an impious scorn the tune, and usurping the words of the litany used formerly in the Church. Near the Public Cross, all these monuments of idolatry must be sacrificed to the fire ; not without much Ostentation of a zealous joy, in discharging ordnance, to the cost of some, who professed how much they had longed
HIS HARD MEASURE.
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to see that day. Neither was it any news upon this Guild- day, to have the Cathedral, now open on all sides, to be filled with musketeers, waiting for the Major's return; drinking and tobacconing as freely, as if it had turned ale- house.
Still yet I remained in my palace, though with but a poor retinue and means ; but the house was held too good for me. Many messages were sent by Mr. Corbet, to re- move me thence. The first pretence was, that the Com- . mittee, who now was at charge for a house to sit in, might make their daily Session there ; being a place both more public, roomy, and chargeless. The Committee, after many consultatious, resolved it convenient to remove thi- ther ; though many overtures and offers were made to the contrary. Mr. Corbet was impatient of my stay there ; and procures and sends peremptory messages, for my pre- sent dislodging : we desired to have some time allowed for providing some other mansion, if we must needs be cast out of this ; which my wife was so willing to hold, that she offered, if the charge of the present Committee House were the thing stood upon, she would be content to de- fray the sum of the rent of that house of her fifth part : but that might not be yielded : out we must, and that in three weeks warning by Midsummer Day then approach- ing ; so as we might have lain in the street for ought I know, had not the Providence of God so ordered it, that a neighbour in the Close, one Mr. Gostlin, a widower, was content to void his house for us.
This hath been my Measure ; wherefore, I know not : Lord, thou knowest, who only canst remedy, and end, and forgive or avenge this horrible oppression.
Scripsi May 29, 1647.
JOS. NORVIC.
CONTEMPLATIONS
VPON THE
PRINCIPAL PASSAGES
HOLY STORY.
VOL. I.
TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE,
HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES,
HIS HIGHNESS'S UNWORTHY SERVANT, DEDICATES ALL HIS LABOURS, AND WISHES ALL HAPPINESS,
MOST GRACIOUS PRINCE :
A his work of mine, which, if my hopes and desires fail me not; time may hereafter make great, I have presumed both to dedicate in whole to your Highness, and to parcel out in severals unto subordinate hands. It is no marvel if books have this freedom, when we ourselves can and ought to be all your's, while we are our own and others under you. I dare say, these meditations, how rude soever they may fall from my pen, in regard of their subject are fit for a prince. Here your Highness shall see how the great pat- tern of princes, the King of Heaven, hath ever ruled the world ; how his substitutes, earthly kings, have ruled it un- der him, and with what success either of glory or ruin. Both your peace and war shall find here holy and great ex- amples. And if history and observation be the best coun- sellors of your youth, what story can be so wise and faith- ful as that which God hath written for men, wherein you see both what hath been done, and what should be ? What observation so worthy as that which is both raised from God, and directed to him ? If the propriety which your Highness justly hath in the Work and Author, may draw your princely eyes and heart the rather to these holy spe- culations, your servant shall be happier in this f ivour than in all your outward bounty ; as one to whom your spiritual progress deserves to be dearer than his own life ; and whose daily suit is, that God would guide your steps aright in this slippery age, and continue to rejoice all good hearts in the view of your gracious proceedings.
Your Highness's humbly devoted servant,
JOSEPH HALL
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK I.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THOMAS, EARL OF EXETER,
one or his majesty's most honourable privy council,
ALL GRACE AND HAPPINESS. RIGHT HONOURABLE :
I KNEW I could not bestow my thoughts better than upon God's own History, so full of edification and delight : which I have in such sort endeavoured to do, that I shall give occasion to my reader of some meditations, which perhaps he would have missed. Every help in this kind deserves to be precious. J present the first part to your Honour , wherein you shall see the world both made and smo- thered again : Man in the glory of his creation, and the shame of his fall : Paradise at once made and lost : The first man killing his seed, the second his brother. If in these I shall give light to the thoughts of my reader, let him with me give the praise to Him from whom that light shone forth to me. To whose grace and pro* tection I humbly commend your Lordship, as
Four Honour's unfeignedly devoted
in all observance and duty,
JOSEPH HALL.
THE CREATION.
"What can I sec, O God, in thy creation, but miracles of won- ders ? Thou raadest something of nothing, and of that something, all things. Thou, which wast without a beginning, gavest a be- ginning to time, and to the world in time. It is the praise of us men, it' when we have matter, we can give fashion : thou gavest a being to the matter, without form ; thou gavest a form to that mat- ter, and a glory to that form. If we can but finish a slight and im-
4 CONTEMPLATIONS.
perfect matter according to a former pattern, it is the height of our skill : but to begin that which never was, whereof there was no example, whereto there was no inclination, wherein there was no possibility of that which it should be, is proper only to such power as thine ; the infinite power of an infinite creator : with us, not so much as a thought can arise without some matter ; but here with thee, all matter arises from nothing. How easy is it for thee to re- pair all out of something, which couldest thus fetch all out of no- thing ! Wherein can we now distrust thee, that hast proved thy- self thus omnipotent ? Behold : to have made the least clod of no- thing, is more above wonder, than to multiply a world ; but now the matter doth not more praise thy power, than the form thy wis- dom : what beauty is here ! what order ! what order in working, what beauty in the work !
Thou mightest have made all the world perfect in an instant, but thou wouldest not. That will, whicb caused thee to create, is rea- son enough why thou didst thus create. How should we delibe- rate in our actions, which are so subject to imperfection ! since it pleased thine infinite perfection, not out of need, to take leisure. Neither did thy wisdom herein proceed in time onlv, but in de- grees : at first thou madest nothing absolute ; first, thou madest things which should have being without life ; then, those which should have life and being ; lastly, those which have being, life, reason : so we ourselves in the ordinary course of generation, first live the life of vegetation, then of sense, of reason afterwards. That instant wherein the heaven and the earth were created in their rude matter, there was neither day nor light, but px-esentlv thou madest both light and day. While we have this example of thine, how vainly do we hope to be perfect at once ! It is well for. us, if through many degrees we can rise to our consummation.
But, alas ! what was the very heaven itself without light ? how confused ! how formless ! like to a goodly body without a soul, like a soul without thee. Thou art light, and in thee is no dark- ness. Oh how incomprehensibly glorious is the light that is in thee, since one glimpse of this created light, gave so lively a glory to all thy workmanship ! This, even the brute creatures can be- hold ; that, not the very angels. That shines forth only to the other supreme world of immortality, this to the basest part of thy creation. There. is one cause of our darkness on earth, and of the utter darkness in hell-, the restraint of thy light. Shine thou, O God, into the vast corners of my soul, and in thy light I shall see light.
But whence, O God, was that first light ? The sun was not made till the fourth day ; light, the first. If man had been, he might have seen all lightsome ; but whence it had come he could not have seen ; as in some great pond, we see the banks full, we see not the springs from whence that water riseth. Thou madest the sun, madest the light without the sun, before the sun, that so light might depend upon thee, and not upon thy creature. Thy power will not be limited to means. It was easy to thee to make a hea-
THE CREATION. 5
ven without a sun, light without a heaven, day without a sun, time without a day : it is good reason thou shouldest be the lord of thine own works. All means serve thee : why do we weak wretches distrust thee, in the want of those means, which thou canst either command, or forbear ? How plainly wouldst thou teach us, that we creatures need not one another, so long as we have thee ! One day we shall have light again without the sun. Thou shalt be our sun; thy presence shall be our light: light is sown for the righ- teous. The sun and light is but for the world below itself ; thine only for above. Thou givest this light to the sun, which the sun gives to the world : that light, which thou shalt once give us, shall make us shine like the sun in glory.
Now this light which for three days was thus dispersed through the whole heavens, it pleased thee at last to gather and uuite into one body of the sun. The whole heaven was our sun, before the sun was created : but now one star must be the treasury of light to the heaven and earth. How thou lovest the union and reduction of all tilings of one kind to their own head and centre ! So the waters must by thy command be gathered into one place, the sea ; so the upper waters must be severed by these airy limits from the lower : so heavy substances hasten downward, and light mount up; so the general light of the first days must be called into the com- pass of one sun ; so thou wilt once gather thine elect, from all coasts of heaven, to the participation of one glory. Why do we abide our thoughts and affections scattered from thee, from thy saints, from thine anointed? Oh let this light, which thou hast now spread abroad in the hearts of all thine, once meet in thee : we are as thy heavens in this their first imperfection ; be thou our sun, unto which our light may be gathered.
Yet this light was by thee interchanged with darkness, which thou niightest as easily have commanded to be perpetual. The continuance, even of the best things, cloyeth and wearieth : there is nothing but thyself, wherein there is not satiety. So pleasing is the vicissitude of things, that the intercourse even of those occur- rents which in their own nature are less worthy, gives more con- tentment, than the unaltered estate of better. The day dies into night, and rises into the morning again, that we might not expect any stability here below, but in perpetual successions : it is always day with thee above ; the night savoureth only of mortality : why are we not here spiritually as we shall be hereafter ? Since thou hast made us children of the light, and of the day, teach us to walk ever in the light of thy presence, not in the darkness of error and unbelief.
Now in this thine enlightened frame, how fitly, how wisely are all the parts disposed, that the method of the creation might answer the matter, and the form both ! Behold all purity above ; below, the dregs and Ices of all. The higher I go, the more perfection ; «ach element superior to other, not more in place than dignity ; that by these stairs of ascending perfection, our thoughts might climb unto the top of all glory, and might know thine imperial
6
CONTEMPLATIONS.
heaven no less glorious above the visible, than those above the earth. Oh how miserable is the place of our pilgrimage, in re- spect of our home ! Let my soul tread awhile in the steps of thine own proceedings; and so think, as thou wroughtest : when we Would describe a man, we begin not at the feet but the head : the head of thy creation is the heaven ; how higii ! how spacious ! how glorious ! It is a wonder that we can look up to so admirable a height, and that the very eye is not tired in the way. If this as- cending line could be drawn right forwards, some, that have calcu- lated curiously, have found it five hundred years' journey unto the starry heaven. I do not examine their art; O Lord, I wonder ra- ther at thine, which hast drawn so large a line about this little point of earth : for in the plainest rules of art and experience, the compass must needs be six times as much as half the height. We think one island great, but the earth unmeasurable. If we were in that heaven with these eyes, the whole earth, were it equal- ly enlightened, would seem as little to us, as now the least star in the firmament seems to us upon earth : and, indeed, how few stars are so little as it ! And yet how many void and ample spaces are there beside all the stars ! The hugeness of thy work, O God, is little inferior for admiration to the majesty of it.
But, oh ! what a glorious heaven is this, which thou hast spread over our heads ! With how precious a vault hast thou walled in this our inferior world ! What worlds of light hast thou set above us ! Those things, which we see, are wondrous : but those, which we believe and see not, are yet more. Thou dost but set out these unto view, to shew us what there is within. How propor- tionable arc thy works to thyself ! Kings erect not cottages, but set forth their magnificence in sumptuous buildings : so hast thou done, O King of Glory. If the lowest pavement of that heaven of thine be so glorious, what shall we think of the better parts yet un- seen ? And if this sun of thine be of such brightness and majesty, oh what is the glory of the maker of it ? And yet if some other of thy stars were let down as low as it, those other stars would be suns to us ; which now thou wouldst rather have admired in their distance. And if such a sky be prepared for the use and benefit even of thine enemies also upon earth, how happy shall those eter- nal tabernacles be, which thou hast sequestered for thine own !
Behold then in this high and stately building of thine, I see three stages ; this lowest heaven for fowls, for vapour, for meteors : the second, for the stars: the third, for thine angels and saints. The first is thine outward court, open for all : the second is the body of thy covered temple, wherein are those candles of heaven perpe- tually burning: tiie third is thy holy of holies. In the first is tu- mult and vanity: in the second, immutability and rest: in the third, glory and blessedness. The first we feel ; the second we see ; the third we believe. In these two lower is no felicity ; for nei- ther the fowls nor stars are happy. It is in the third heaven alone, where thou, O blessed Trinity, enjoyest thyself, and thy glorified spirits enjoy thee. It is the manifestation of thy glorious presence,
THE CREATION. 7
that makes Heaven to be itself. This is the privilege of thy chil- dren : that they here seeing thee, which art invisible, by the eye of faith, have already begun that heaven, which the perfect sight of thee shall make perfect above.
Let my soul then let these heavens alone, till it may see, as it is seen : that we may descend to this lowest and meanest region of heaven, wherewith our senses are more acquainted. What marvels do even here meet with us ! There are thy clouds, thy bottles of rain ; vessels as thin as the liquor which is contained in them : there they hang, and move, though weighty with their burden : how they are upheld, and why they fall, here and now, we know not, and wonder. These thou makest one while as some airy seas to hold water : another while, as some airy furnaces whence thou scattcrest the sudden fires unto all parts of the earth, astonishing the world with the fearful noise of that eruption 5 out of the midst of water thou fetchest fire, and hard stones out of the midst of thin vapours : another while, as some steel-glasses, wherein the sun looks and shews his face in the variety of those colours which he hath not. There are thy streams of light, blazing and falling stars, fires darted up and down in many forms, hollow openings, and, as it were, gulphs in the sky, bright circles about the moon and other planets, snows, hail : in all which it is enough to admire thy hand, though we cannot search out thine action. There are thy subtle winds, which we hear and feel, yet neither can sec their substance, nor know their causes : whence and whither they pass, and what they are, thou knowest. There are thy fowls of all shapes, colours, notes, and natures : whilst I compare these with the inhabitants of that other heaven, I find those stars, and spirits like one another; those meteors and fowls, in as many varieties, as there are several creatures. Why is this ? Is it because man, for whose. sake these are made, delights in change ; thou in constancy ? Or is it, that in these thou mayest shew thine own skill, and their imperfection ? There is no variety in that which is perfect, because there is but one perfection ; and so much shall we grow nearer to perfectness, by how much we draw nearer to unity, and uniformity.
From thence, if wc go1 down to the great deep, the womb of moisture, the well of fountains, the great pond of the world ; we know not whether to wonder at the element itself, or the guests which it contains. How doth that sea of thine roar, and foam, and swell, as if it would swallow up the earth ! Thou stayest the rage of it by an insensible violence ; and by a natural miracle confinest his waves ; why it moves, and why it stays, it is to us equally won- derful. What living mountains (such are thy whales) roll up and down in those fearful billows : for greatness of number, hugeness of quantity, strangeness of shapes, variety of fashions, neither air nor earth can compare with the waters.
I say nothing of thy hid treasures, which thy wisdom hath re- posed in the bowels of the earth and sea ; how secretly, and how basely are they laid up ! secretly, that we might not seek them ; basely, that we might not over-esteem them : I need not dig so low
8
CONTEMPLATIONS.
as these metals, mineries, quarries which yield riches enough of observation to the soul ; how many millions of wonders doth the very face of the earth offer me ; which of these herbs, flowers, trees, leaves, seeds, fruits, is there; what beast, what worm, wherein we may not see the footsteps of a Deity ? wherein we mav not read intiniteness of power, of skill : and must be forced to confess, that he, which made the angels and stars of heaven, made also the vermin on the earth ? O God, the heart of man is too strait to admire enough, even that which he treads upon. What shall we say to thee, the Maker of all these r 0 Lord, how wonderful are thy works in all the world I in wisdom hast thou made them all. And in all these thou spakest, and they were done. Thy will is tin- word, andthv word is thv deed. Our tongue, and hand, and heart are different : all are one in thee ; which art simplv one, and infi- nite. Here needed no helps, no instruments ; what could be pre- sent with the Eternal r what needed, or what could be added to the Infinite : Thy hand is not shortened, thy word is still equally ef- fectual ; say thou the word, and mv soul shall be made new again : say thou the word, and my body shall be repaired from his dust. For all things obey thee, O Lord ! why do I not yield to the word of thy counsel ; since I must yield, as all thy creatures, to the word of thy command ? . Gen. i.
OF MAN.
But, O God, what a little Lord hast thou made over this great world ! The least corn of sand is not so small to the whole earth, as man is to the heaven : when I see the heavens, the sun, moon, and stars ; O God, what is man ! who would think thou shouldst make all these creatures for one ? and that one well near the least of all r Yet none but he can see what thou hast done •, none but he can admire and adore thee in what he seeth ; how had he need to do not ling but this, since he alone must do it ! Certainly, the price and virtue of things consist not in the quantity : one diamond is more worth than many quarries of stone, one loadstone hath more virtue Man mountains of earth : It is lawful for us to praise thee in ourselves.
All thv creation hath not more wonder in it, than one of us : other creatures thou madest by a simple command ; man, not with- out a divine consultation : others at once ; man thou didst first form, then inspire : others in several shapes like to none but them- selves ; man, after thine own image : others with qualities fit for service ; man, for dominion. Man had his name from thee ; they hid their names from man. How should we be consecrated to thee ajore all others, since tiiou hast bestowed more cost on us than others !
What shall I admire first? thv providence in the time of our creation ? or thy p iwer and wisdom in the act ? First, thou madest the great house of t.ie world, and fumishedst it : then thou broughtest ui t.'iy tenant to possess it. The bare wails had been too good for
OF MAN.
9
lis, but thy love was above our desert. Thou, that madest the earth ready for us before we were, hast by the same mercy prepared a
f)lace in heaven for us while we are on earth. The stage was first ully prepared, then was man brought forth thither, as au actor or spectator : that he might neither be idle nor discontent ; behold, thou hadst addressed an earth for use, and heaven for contem- plation.
After thou hadst drawn that large real map of the world, thou didst thus abridge it into this little table of man ; he alone consists of heaven and earth, soul and body. Even this earthly part, which is vile in comparison of the other; as it is thine, O God, I dare ad- mire it, though I can neglect it as mine own ; for lo, this heap of earth hath an outward reference to heaven : other creatures grovel down to their earth, and have all their senses intent upon it ; this is reared up towards heaven, and hath no more power to look beside heaven, than to tread beside the earth. Unto this, every part hath his wonder. The head is nearest to heaven, as in place, so in re- semblance ; both for roundness of figure, and for those divine guests which have their seat in it ; there dwell those majestical powers of reason, which makes a man; all the senses as they have their origi- nal from thence, so they do all agree there to manifest their virtue : how goodly proportions hast thou set in the face ! such as though oft-times we can give no reason when they please, yet transport us to admiration. What living glasses are those which thou hast placed in the midst of this visage, whereby all objects from far are clearly represented to the mind ? and because their tenderness lies open to dangers, how hast thou defended them with hollow bones, and with prominent brows, and lids ! And lest they should be too much bent on what they ought not, thou hast given them peculiar nerves to pull them up towards the seat of their rest. What a tongue hast thou given htm, the instrument not of taste only, but of speech ! How sweet and excellent voices are formed by that little loose film of flesh ! What an incredible strength hast thou given to the weak bones of the jaws ! What a comely and tower- hke neck ; therefore most sinewy, because smallest ! And lest I be infinite, what able arms and active hands hast thou framed him, whereby he can frame all things to his own conceit ! In every part, beauty, strength, convenience meet together. Neither is there any whereof our weakness cannot give reason, why it should be no otherwise. How hast thou disposed of all the inward ves- sels, for all offices of life, nourishment, egestion, generation ! No vein, sinew, artery is idle. There is no piece m this exquisite frame, whereof the place, use, form, doth not admit wonder, and exceed it.
Yet this body if it be compared to the soul, what is it, but as a clay wall that encompasses a treasure ; as a wooden box of a jew- eller ; as a coarse case to a rich instrument ; or as a mask to a beautiful face ! Man was made last, because he was worthiest. The soul was inspired last, because yet more noble ; if the body have this honour to be the companion jjf the soul, yet withal it 15
10
CONTEMPLATIONS.
the drudge. If it be the instrument, yet also the clog of that di- vine part : the companion for life, the drudge for service, the in- strument for action, the clog in respect of contemplation. These external works are effected by it, the internal which are more no- ble, hindered ; contrary to the bird which sings most in her cage, but flies most and highest at liberty. This my soul teaches me of itself, that itself cannot conceive how capable, how active it is. It can pass by her nimble thoughts from heaven to earth in a mo- ment : it can be all things, can comprehend all things ; know that which is ; and conceive that which ne^er was, never shall be : no- thing can fill it, but thou which art infinite: nothing can limit it, but thou which art everywhere. O God, which madest it, re- plenish it, possess it, dwell thou in it, which hast appointed it to dwell in clay. The body was made of earth common to his fellows, the soul inspired immediately from God. The body lay senseless upon the earth like itself : the breath of life gave it what it is ; and that breath was from thee. Sense, motion, reason, are infused into it, at once. From whence then was this .quickening breath ? No air, no c*uth, no water was here used to give help to this work : thou, that breathedst upon man and gavest him the Holy Spirit, didst also breathe upon the body and gavest it a living spirit ; we are beholden to nothing but thee for our soul. Our flesh is from flesh, our spirit is from the God of Spirits. How should our souls rise up to thee, and fix themselves in their thoughts upon thee, who alone ereatedstthemin their infusion, and infusedst them in their creation ! How should they long to return back to the Fountain of their being, and Author of being glorious ! Why may we not say, that this soul, as it came from thee, so it is like thee ? as thou, so it, is one, immaterial, immortal, understanding spirit, dis- tinguished into three powers which all make up one spirit. So thou, the wise Creator of all things, wouldst have some things to re- semble their Creator. These other creatures are all body ; man is- body and spirit ; the angels are all spirit not without a kind of spi- ritual composition ; thou art alone after thine own manner, simple, glorious, infinite no creature can be like thee in thy proper being, because it is a creature ; how should our finite, weak, com- pounded nature give any perfect resemblance of thine ? Yet of all visible creatures thou vouchsafest man the nearest correspondence to thee: not so much in the natural faculties, as in those divine graces, wherewith thou beautifiest his soul.
Our knowledge, holiness, righteousness, was like the first copy from which they were drawn. Behold, we were not more like thee in these, than now we are unlike ourselves in their loss. O God, we; now praise ourselves to our shame ; for the better we were, we are the worse; as the sons of some prodigal or tainted ancestors, tell of the lands and lordships which were once theirs. Only do thou whet our desires answerably to the readiness of thy mercies, that we may redeem what we have lost ; that we may recover in thee what we have lost in ourselves. The fault shall be om-s, if our damage prove not beneficial.
OF MAN. 11
I do not find, that man, thus framed, found the want of a helper. His fruition of God gave him fulness of contentment ; the sweet- ness which he found in the contemplation of this new workmanship, and the glory of the author;, did so take him up, that he had neither leisure nor cause of complaint. If man had craved a helper, he had grudged at the condition of his creation, and had questioned that which he had ; perfection of being. But he, that gave him his being, and knew him better than himself, thinks of giving him comfort in the creature, whilst he sought none but in his Maker : he sees our wants, and forecasts our relief, when we think our- selves too happy to complain : how ready will he be to help our necessities, that thus provides for our perfection !
God gives the nature to his creatures : man must give the name ; he that might see they were made for him, they shall be to him what he will. Instead of their first homage, they are presented to their new lord, and must see of whom they hold. He that was so careful of man's sovereignty in his innocency, how can he be care- less of his safety in his renovation ! If God had given them their names, it had not been so great a praise of Adam's memory to re- cal them, as it was now of his judgment, at first sight, to impose them : he saw the inside of all the creatures at first ; (his posterity sees but their skins ever since;) and by his knowledge he fitted their names to their dispositions.
All that he saw were fit to be his servants, none to be his com- panions. The same God, that finds the want, supplies it. Rather than man's innocency shall want an outward comfort, God will begin a new creation : not out of the earth, which was the matter of man; not out of the inferior creatures, which were the servants of man; but out of himself, for dearness, for equality. Doubtless such was man's power of obedience, that if God had bidden him y ield up his rib, waking, for his use, he had done it cheerfully : but the bounty of God was so absolute, that he would not so much as con- sult with man's will, to make him happy. As man knew not while he was made, so shall he not know while his other self is made out of him : that the comfort might be greater, which was seen before it was expected.
If the woman should have been made, not without the pain, or will of the man, she might have been upbraided with her depend- ance and obligation. Now she owes nothing but to her creator : the rib of Adam sleeping, can challenge no more of her, than the earth can of him. It was a happy change to Adam, of a rib, for a helper. What help did that bone give to his side ? God had not made it, if it had been superfluous : and yet if man could not have been perfect without it, it had not been taken out. Many things are useful and convenient, which are not necessary : and if God had seen man might not want it, how easy had it been for him, which made the woman of that bone, to turn the flesh into another bone ! But he saw man could not complain of the want of that bone, which he had so multiplied, so animated.
12
CONTEMPLATIONS.
O God, we can never be losers by thy changes, we have nothing but what is thine : take from us thine own, when thou wilt, we are sure thou eanst not but give us better. Gen. ii.
OF PARADISE.
Man could no sooner see, than he saw himself happy : his eye- sight and reason were both perfect at once, and the objects of both were able to make him as happy as he would. When he first opened his eyes, he saw heaven above him, earth under him, the creatures about him, God before him ; he knew what all these things meant, as if he had been long acquainted with them all : he saw the heavens glorious, but far off": his Maker thought it requisite to fit him with a paradise nearer home. If God had ap- pointed him immediately to heaven, bis body had been superfluous ; it was fit his body should be answered with an earthen image of that heaven, which was for his soul : had man been made only for contemplation, it would have served as well to have been placed in some vast desert ; on the top of some barren mountain •, but the same power, which gave him a heart to meditate, gave him hands to work, and work fit for his hands.
Neither was it the purpose of the Creator, that man should but live : pleasure may stand with innocence ; he, that rejoiced to see all he had made to be good, rejoiceth to see all that lie had made to be well, God loves to see his creatures happy ; our lawful de- light is his : they know not God that think to please him with making themselves miserable. The idolaters thought it a fit ser- vice for Baal, to cut and lance themselves; never any holy man looked for thanks from the true God, by wronging himself.
Every earth was not fit for Adam, but a garden ; a paradise. What excellent pleasures, and rare varieties, have men found in gardens planted by the hands of men ! And yet all the world of men cannot make one twig, or leaf, or spire of grass. When he, that made the matter, undertakes the fashion, how must it needs be, beyond our capacity, excellent ! No herb, no flower, no tree, was wanting there, that might be for ornament or use ; whether for sight, or for scent, or for taste. The bounty of God wrought fur- ther than to necessity, even to comfort and recreation. Why are we niggardly to ourselves, when God is liberal ? But, for all this, if God had not there conversed with man, no abundance could have made him blessed.
Yet behold : that which was man's storehouse was also his work- house ; his pleasure was his task : paradise served not only to feed his senses, but to exercise his hands. If happiness had consisted in doing nothing, man had not been employed ; all his delights could not have made him happy in an idle life. Man, therefore, is no sooner made, than he is set to work : neither greatness nor per- fection can privilege a folded hand ; he must labour, because he was happy ; how much more we, that we may be ! This first la^ hour of his was, as without necessity, so without pains, without
OF PARADISE.
13
weariness ; how much more cheerfully we go about our businesses, so much nearer we come to our paradise.
Neither did these trees afford him only action for his hands, but instruction to his heart: for here he saw God's sacraments grow before him ; all other trees had a natural use ; these two in the midst of the garden, a spiritual. Life is the act of the soul, know- ledge the life of the soul ; the tree of knowledge, and the tree of life, then, were ordained as earthly helps of the spiritual pari: perhaps he, which ordained the end, immortality of life, did appoint this fruit as the means of that life. It is not for us to enquire after the life we had ; and the means we should have had. I am sure it served to nourish the soul by a lively representation of that living tree, whose fruit is eternal life, and whose leaves serve to heal the nations.
O infinite mercy ! Man saw his Saviour before him, ere he had need of a Saviour ; he saw in whom he should recover a heavenly life, ere he lost the earthly : but after he had tasted of the tree of knowledge, he might not taste of the tree of life ; that immor- tal food was not for a mortal stomach : yet then did he most savour that invisible tree of life, when he was most restrained from the other. O Saviour, none but a sinner can relish thee : my taste hath been enough seasoned with the forbidden fruit, to make it capable of thv sweetness ; sharpen thou as well the stomach of my soul by repenting, by believing : so shall I eat, and in despite of Adam live for ever.
The one tree was for confirmation ; the other for trial : one shewed him what life he should have ; the other what knowledge he should not desire to have. Alas ! he, that knew all other things, knew not this one thing, that he knew enough. How divine a thing is knowledge, whereof even innocency itself is ambitious! Satan knew what he did : if this bait had been gold, or honour, or pleasure, man had contemned it : who can hope to avoid error, when even man's perfection is mistaken ! He looked for speculative knowledge, he should have looked for experimental : he thought it had been good to know evil : good was large enough to have perfected his knowledge, and therein his blessedness.
All that God made was good, and the Maker of them much more good j they good in their kinds, he good in himself. It would not content him to know God, and his creatures ; his curiosity affected to know that which God never made, evil of sin, and evil of death, which indeed himself made by desiring to know them ; now we know well evil enough, and smart with knowing it. How dear hath this lesson cost us, That in some cases it is better to be igno- rant ; and yet do the sons of Eve inherit this saucy appetite of their grandmother : How many thousand souls miscarry with the presumptuous affectation of forbidden knowledge ! O God, thou hast revealed more than we can know, enough to make us happy : teach me a sober knowledge, and a contented ignorance.
Paradise was made for man, yet there I see the serpent. What marvel is it if my corruption find the serpent in my closet, in my
14/ CONTEMPLATIONS.
table, in my bed, wben our holy parents found him in the midst of paradise f No sooner he is entered, but he tempteth : he can no more be idle, than harmless. I do not see him at any other tree; lie knew there was no danger in the rest ; I see him at the tree for- bidden. How true a serpent is he in every point ! in his insinua- tion to the place, in his choice of the tree, in his assault of the woman, in his plausihleness of speech to avoid terror, in his ques- tion to move doubt, in his reply to work distrust, in his protesta- tion of safety, in his suggestion to envy and discontent, in his pro- mise of gain !
And if he were so cunning at the first, what shall we think of him now, after so many thousand years' experience ! Only thou, O God, and those angels that see thy face, are wiser than he. I do not ask why, when he left his goodness, thou didst not bereave him of his skill. Still thou wouldst have him an angel, though an evil one : and thou knowest how to ordain his craft to thine own glory. I do not desire thee to abate of his subtlety, but to make me wise; let me beg it without presumption, make me wiser than Adam : even thine image, which he bore, made him not, through his own weakness, wise enough to obey thee ; thou offeredst him all fruits, and restrainedst but one ; Satan offered him but one, and restrained not the rest : when he chose rather to be at Satan's feeding than thine, it was just with thee to turn him out of thy gates with a curse : why shouldst thou feed a rebel at thine own board ?
And yet we transgress daily, and thou shuttest not heaven against us : how is it that we find more mercy than our forefather ? His strength is worthy of severity, our weakness finds pity. That God, from whose face he fled in the garden, now makes him with shame to fly out of the garden : those angels, that should have kept him, now keep the gates of paradise against him ; it is not so easy to recover happiness, as to keep it, or lose it : yea, the same cause that drove man from paradise, hath also withdrawn paradise from the world.
That fiery sword did not defend it against those waters, where- with the sins of men drowned the glory of that place : neither now do I care to seek where that paradise was, which we lost : I know where that paradise is, which we must care to seek and hope to find. As man was the image of God, so was that earthly paradise an image of heaven ; both the images are defaced, both the first patterns are eternal : Adam was in the first, and staid not : in the second, is the second Adam which said, This day shalt thou be with me in paradise. There was that chosen vessel, and heard and saw what could not be expressed : by how much the third heaven exceeds the richest earth ; so much doth that paradise, whereto we aspire, exceed that which wc have lost. Gen. Hi.
OF CAIN AND ABEL.
15
Look now, O my soul, upon the two first brethren, perhaps twins; and wonder at their contrary dispositions and estates : if the pri- vileges of nature had been worth any thing, the first-born child should not have been a reprobate. Now, that we may ascribe all to free grace, the elder is a murderer, the younger a saint ; though goodness may be repaired in ourselves, yet it cannot be propagated to others. Now might Adam sec the image of himself in Cain ; for after his own image begot he him ; Adam slew his posterity, Cain his brother : we are too like one another in that wherein we are unlike to God : even the clearest grain sends forth that chaff, from which it was fanned ere the sowing. Yet is this Cain a pos- session ; the same Eve, that mistook the fruit of the garden, mis- took also the fruit of her own body, her hope deceived her in both; so, many good names are ill bestowed, and our comfortable expectations in earthly things do not seldom disappoint us.
Doubtless, their education was holy % for Adam, though in para- dise he could not be innocent, yet was a good man out of paradise ; his sin and fall now made him circumspect, and since he saw that his act had bereaved them of that image of God, which he once had for them, he could not but labour by all holy endeavours to repair it in them, that so his care.might make amends for his trespass. Plow plain is it, that even good breeding cannot alter destiny !
That which is crooked can none make straight ; who would think that brethren, and but two brethren, should not love each other? Dispersed love grows weak, and fewness of objects useth to unite affections : if but two brothers be left alive of many, they think that the love of all the rest should survive in them ; and now the beams of their affection are so much the hotter, because they re- flect mutually in a right line upon each other : yet, behold, here are but two brothers in a world, and one is the butcher of the other. Who can wonder at dissensions amongst thousands of bre- thren, when he sees so deadly opposition betwixt two, the first roots of brotherhood r Who can hope to live plausibly, and se- curely, amongst so many Cains, when he sees one Cain the death of one Abel ?
The same devil, that set enmity betwixt man and God, sets en- mity betwixt man and man ; and yet God said, / will put enmity between thy seed and her seed. Our hatred of the serpent and his seed is from God : their hatred of the holy seed is from the ser- pent. Behold here at once in one person, the seed of the woman and of the serpent : Cain's natural parts are of the woman ; lys vicious qualities of the serpent : the woman gave him to be a bro- ther, the serpent to be a man-slayer ; all uncharitableness, all quar- rels, are of one author: we cannot entertain wrath, and not give place to the devil. Certainly, so deadly an act must needs be deeply grounded.
What then was the occasion of this capital malice ? Abel's sacri- . ficc is accepted ; what was this to Cain ? Cain's is rejected ; what
16 CONTEMPLATIONS.
could Abel remedy this ? O envy, the corrosive of all ill minds, and the root of all desperate actions : the same cause, that moved Satan to tempt the first man to destroy himself and his posterity, the same moves the second man to destroy the third.
It should have been Cain's joy, to see his brother accepted ; it should have been his sorrow, to see that himself had deserved a rejection : his brother's example should have excited and directed him. Could Abel have stayed God's fire from descending ? Or should he, if he could, reject God's acceptation, and displease his Maker, to content a brother? Was Cain ever the farther from a blessing, because his brother obtained mercy ? How proud and foolish is malice ! which grows thus mad, for no other cause, but because God or Abel is not less good. It hath been an old and happy danger to be holy : indifferent actions must be careful to avoid offence ; but I care not what devil or what Cain be angry, that I do good, or receive good.
There was never any nature without envy. Every man is born a Cain ; hating that goodness in another, which he neglecteth in himself. There was never envy that was not bloody ; tor if it eat not another's heart, it will eat our own : but unless it be restrained, it will surely feed itself with the blood of others, oft-times in act, always in affection ; and that God, which, in good, accepts the will for the deed, condemns the will for the deed in evil. If there be an evil heart, there will be an evil eye ; and if both these, there will be an evil hand.
How early did martyrdom come into the world ! The first man that died, died for religion ; who dare measure God's love by out- ward events, when he sees wicked Cain standing over bleeding Abel ; whose sacrifice was first accepted, and now himself is sacri- ficed ? Death was denounced to man as a curse ; yet, behold, it first lights upon a saint : how soon was it altered by the mercy of that just hand which inflicted it ! If death had been evil, and life good, Cain had been slain, and Abel had survived ; now that it begins with him that God loves, 0 death, where is thy sting ?
Abel says nothing, his blood cries s every drop of innocent blood hath a tongue, and is not only vocal, but importunate: what a noise then did the blood of my Saviour make in heaven ! who Avas himself the shepherd and the sacrifice ; the man that was offered, and the God to whom it was offered. The Spirit, that heard both, says, It spake better things than the blood of Abel. Abel's blood called for revenge, his for mercy ; Abel's pleaded his own inno- cency, his the satisfaction for all the believing world ; Abel's pro- cured Cain's punishment, his freed all repentant souls from punish- ment: better things, indeed, than the blood of Abel. Better, and therefore that which Abel's blood said, was good : it is good, that God should be avenged of sinners. Execution of justice upon of- fenders is no less good than rewards of goodness.
No sooner doth Abel's blood speak unto God, than God speaks to Cain. There is no wicked man to whom God speaks not, if not to his ear, yet to his heart. What speech was this ? Not an accu-
OF THE DELUGE.
17
sation, but an inquiry ; yet such an inquiry as would infer an ac- cusation. God loves to have a sinner accuse himself, and there- fore hath he set his deputy in the breast of man ; neither doth God love this more than nature abhors it : Cain answers stubbornly : the very name of Abel wounds him no less, than his hand had wounded Abel. Consciences that are without remorse, are not without horror : wickedness makes men desperate ; the murderer is angry with God, as of late for accepting his brother's oblation, so now for listening to his blood.
And now he dares answer God with a question, Am I my bro- ther's keeper ? where he should have said, Am not I my brother's murderer ? Behold, he scorneth to keep whom he feared not to kill : good duties are base and troublesome to wicked minds, whilst even violences of evil are pleasant. Yet this miscreant, which neither had grace to avoid his sin, nor to confess it, now that he is convinced of sin, and cursed for it, how he howleth, how he exclaimeth ! He, that cares not for the act of his sin, shall care for the smart of his punishment. The damned are weary of their torments, but in vain. How great a madness is it to com- plain too late ! He, that would not keep his brother, is cast out from the protection of God ; he, that feared not to kill his brother, fears now, that whosoever meets him will kill him. The troubled conscience projecteth fearful things, and sin makes even cruel men cowardly.
God saw it was too much favour for him to die : he therefore wills that which Cain wills. Cain would live ; it is yielded him, but for a curse : how often doth God hear sinners in anger ' He shall live banished from God, carrying his hell in his bosom, and the brand of God's vengeance in his forehead : God rejects him, the earth repines at him, men abhor him; himself now wishes that death which he feared, and no man dare pleasure him with a mur- der; how bitter is the end of sin, yea, without end! still Cain finds that he killed himself more than his brother. We should ne- ver sin, if our foresight were but as good as our sense : the issue of sin would appear a thousand times more horrible than the act is pleasant. Gen. iv.
OF THE DELUGE. The world was grown so foul with sin, that God saw it was time to wash it with a flood. And so close did wickedness cleave to the authors of it, that when they were washed to nothing, yet it would not off: yea, so deep did it stick in the very grain of the earth, that God saw it meet to let it soak long under the waters. So, un- der the Law, the very vessels that had touched unclean water, must either be rinsed or broken. Mankind began but with one : and yet he, that saw the first man, lived to see the earth peopled with a world of men : yet men grew not so fast as wickedness. One man could soon and easily multiply a thousand sins, never man- vol. i. c
IS CONTEMPLATIONS.
had so many children : so that, when there were men enough to store the earth, there were as many sins as would reach up to hea- ven ; whereupon the waters came down from heaven, and swelled up to heaven again. If there had not been so deep a deluge of sin, there had been none of the waters. From whence then was tliis superfluity of iniquity ? Whence, but from the unequal yoke with infidels ? These marriages did not beget men, so much as wickedness ; from hence religious husbands both lost their piety, and gained a rebellious and godless generation.
That, which was the first occasion of sin, was the occasion of the increase of sin : a woman seduced Adam, women betrav these sons of God : the beauty of the apple betrayed the woman, the beauty of these women betrayed this holy seed: Eve saw, and lusted, so did they; this also was a forbidden fruit, they lusted, tasted, sinned, died; the most sins begin at the eyes, by them commonly Satan creeps into the heart : that soul can never be in safety, that hath not covenanted with his eyes.
God needed not have given these men any warning of his judg- ment ; they gave him no warning of their sins, no respite: yet, that God might approve his mercies to the very wicked, he gives them a hundred and twenty years respite of repenting : how loth is God to strike, that threats so long ! He, that delights in revenge, surprises his adversary; whereas he, that gives long warnings, de- sires to be prevented : if we were not wilful, we should never smart.
Neither doth he give them time only, but a faithful teacher. It is a happy thing when he that teacheth others is righteous ; Noah's hand taught them as much as his tongue. His business in building' the ark, was a real sermon to the world ; wherein at once were taught mercy and life to the believer, and to the rebellious de- struction.
Methinks I see those monstrous sons of Lamcch coming to Noah, and asking him, what he means by that strange work ; whether he means to sail upon the dry land. To whom when he reports God's purpose an^ his, they go away laughing at his idleness, and tell one another, in sport, that too much holiness hath made him mad: yet cannot they all flout Noah out of his faith; he preaches, and builds, and finishes. Doubtless more hands went to this work than his : many a one wrought upon the ark, which vet was not saved in the ark. Our outward works cannot save us, without our faith; we may help to save others, and perish ourselves : what a wonder of mercy is this that I here see ! One poor family called out of a world, and as it were eight grains of corn fanned from a whole barnful of chaff: one hypocrite was saved with the rest for Noah's sake ; not one righteous man was swept awav for company. For these few was the earth preserved still under the waters, and all kinds of creatures upon the waters, which else had been all de- stroyed. Still the world stands, for their sakes, for whom it was preserved; else fire should consume that, which could not be cleansed by water.
OF THE DELUGE. 19
This difference is strange : I see the savagest of all creatures, lions, tigers, bears, by an instinct from God, come to seek the ark (as we see swine foreseeing a storm run home crying for shelter), men I see not; reason once debauched is worse than brutislmess : God hath use even of these fierce and cruel beasts, and glory by them : even they being created for man, must live by him, though to liis punishment : how gently do they offer and submit themselves to their preserver ; renewing that obeisance to this repairer of the world, which they, before sin, yielded to him that first stored the world : he, that shut them into the ark when they were entered, shut their mouths also white they did enter. The lions fawn upon Noah and Daniel ; what heart cannot the Maker of them mollify !
The unclean beasts God would have to live, the clean to multi- ply ; and therefore he sends to Noah seven of the clean, of the unclean two : he knew the one would annoy man with their multi- tude, the other would enrich him ; those things are worthy of most respect, which are of most use.
But why seven ? Surely that God, that created seven days in the week, and made one for himself, did here preserve of seven clean beasts, one for himself, for sacrifice : he gives us six for one in earthly things, that in spiritual we should be all for him.
Now the day is come, all the guests are entered, the ark is shut, and the windows of heaven open : I doubt not but many of those scoffers, when they saw the violence of the waves descending, and ascending, according to Noah's prediction, came wading middle- deep unto the ark, and importunately craved that admittance which they once denied : but now, as they formerly rejected God, so are they justly rejected of God. For ere vengeance begin, repentance is seasonable ; but if judgment be once gone out, we cry too late. While the Gospel solicits us, the doors of the ark are open ; if we neglect the time of grace, in vain shall we seek it with tears : God hcLls it no mercy to pity the obstinate. Others, more bold than they, hope to over-run the judgment, and, climbing up to the high mountains, look down upon the waters with more hope than fear : and now, when they see their hills become islands, they climb up into the tallest trees ; there with paleness and horror at once look for death, and study to avoid it, whom the waves overtake at last half dead with famine, and half with fear. Lo ! now from the tops of the mountains they descry the ark floating upon the waters, and behold with envy that which before they beheld with scorn.
In vain doth he fly whom God pursues. There is no way to fly from his judgments, but to fly to his mercy by repenting. The faith of the righteous cannot be so much derided, as their success is magnified: how securely doth Noah ride out this uproar of heaven, earth, and waters! He hears the pouring down of the rain above his head ; the shrieking of men, and roaring and bellowing of beasts, on both sides of him ; the raging and threats of the waves under him ; he saw the miserable shifts of the distressed unbe- lievers ; and in the mean time sit: quietly in his dry cabin, neither feeling nor fearing evil : he knew that he, which owned the waters, would steer him ; tha,t he, who shut him in, would preserve him.
20
CONTEMPLATIONS.
How happy a thing is faith ! What a quiet safety, what a heavenly peace, doth it work in the soul, in the midst of all the inundations of evil !
Now, when God hath fetched again all the life which he had given to his unworthy creatures, and reduced the world unto his first form wherein waters were over the face of the earth, it was time for a renovation of all things to succeed this destruction. To have continued the deluge long, had been to punish Noah, that was righteous. After forty days, therefore, the heavens clear up ; after a hundred and fifty the waters sink down. How soon is God weary of punishing, which is never wearv of blessing ! yet may not the ark rest suddenly. If we did not stay somevvhile un- der God's hand, we should not know how sweet his mercy is, and how great our thankfulness should be. The ark, though it was Noah's fort against the waters, yet it was his prison ; he was safe in it, but put up ; he, that gave him life by it, now thinks time to give him liberty out of it.
God doth not reveal all tilings to his best servants : behold, he, that told Noah a hundred and twenty years before what day he should go into the ark, yet foretels him not now in the ark what day the ark should rest upon the hills, and he should go forth. Noah therefore sends out his intelligencers, the raven and the dove ; whose wings in that vaporous air might easily descry fur- ther than his sight. The raven, of quick scent, of gross feed, of tough constitution ; no fowl was so fit for discovery : the likeliest thing's ahvavs succeed not. He neither will venture far into that solitary world for fear of want, nor yet come into the ark for love of liberty ; but hovers about in uncertainties. How many carnal minds fly out of the ark of God's Church, and embrace the pre- sent world ; rather choosing to feed upon the unsavoury carcasses of sinful pleasures, than to be restrained within the straight lists of Christian obedience !
The dove is sent forth, a fowl both swift and simple. She, like a true citizen of the ark, returns ; and brings faithful notice of the continuance of the waters, by her restless and empty return ; by her olive-leaf, of the abatement : how worthy are those messengers to be welcome, which, with innocence in their lives, bring glad tidings of peace; and salvation, in their mouths !
Noah rejoices and believes ; vet still he waits seven days more : it is not good to devour the favours of God too greedily ; but to take them in, that we may digest them. O strong faith of Noah, that was not weary with this delay ! Some man would have so longed for the open air after so long closeness, that upon the first notice of safetv he would have uncovered, and voided the ark ; Noah stays seven days ere he will open, and well near two months ere he will forsake the ark ; and not then, unless God, that commanded to enter, had bidden him depart. There is no action good without our faith ; no faith, without a word. Happy is that man, which, in all things, neglecting the counsels of flesh and blood, depends upon the commission of his Maker. Gen. vi, vii, viii.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK II.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE LORD STANHOPE,
ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL, ALL GRACE AND HAPPINESS,
RIGHT HONOURABLE :
I DURST appeal to the judgment of a carnal reader (let him not be prejudicate J that there is no History so pleasant as the Sa- cred. Set aside the majesty of the inditer ; none can compare with it for magnificence and antiquity of the matter, the sweetness of compiling, the strange variety of memorable occurrences : and if the delight be such, what shall the profit be esteemed of that which, was written by GO J) for the salvation of Men! I confess, no thoughts did ever more sweetly steal vie and time away, than those which I have employed in this subject, and I hope, none pan equally benefit others : for, if the mere relation of these holy things be profitable, how much more when it is reduced to use J This second part of the World repaired, I dedicate to your Lordship ; wherein you shall see Noah as weak in his tent, as strong in the ark ; an ungracious son reserved from the deluge to his father'' s curse ; modest piety rewarded with blessings ; the building of Babel^ begun tn pride, ended in confusion; Abraham's faith, fear , obedience; Isaac bound upon the altar under the hand of a father, that hath forgotten both nature and all his hopes ; Sodom burning with a double fire, from hell, and from heaven ; Lot rescued from that impure city, yet after finding Sodom in his cave : Every one of these passages is not more full of xvonder than of edification. That Spirit, which hath penned all these things for our learning, teach us their right use ; and sanctify these my unworthy meditations to the good of his church ! To whose abundant grace I humbly com- mend your Lordship.
Four Lordship's unfeignedly devoted in all due observance,
JOSEPH HALL,
NOAH.
No sooner is Noah come out of the ark, but he builds an altar : not a house for himself, but an altar to the Lord : our faith will ever teach us to prefer God to ourselves. Delayed thankfulness is
22
CONTEMPLATIONS.
not worthy of acceptation. Of those few creatures that are left, God must have some ; they are all his ; yet his goodness will have man know that it was he, for whose sake they were preserved. It was a privilege to those very brute creatures, that they were saved from the waters, to be offered up in fire unto God : what a favour is it to men, to be reserved from common destructions, to be sacri- ficed to their Maker and Redeemer !
Lothis little fire of Noah, through the virtue of his faith, purged the world, and ascended up into those heavens, from which the waters fell, and caused a glorious rainbow to appear therein for his security : all the sins of the former world were not so unsavoury unto God, as this smoke was pleasant. No perfume can be so sweet, as the holy obedience of the faithful. Now God, that was before annoyed with the ill-savour of sin, smells a sweet savour of rest: behold here a new and second rest: first, God rested from making the world, now he rests from destroying it : even while we cease not to offend, he ceases from a public revenge. His word was enough, yet withal he gives a sign, which may speak the truth of his promise to the very eyes of men : thus he doth still in his blessed sacraments, which are as real words to the soul. The rainbow is the pledge of our safety, which even naturally signifies the end of a shower : all the signs of God's institution are proper and significant.
But who would look after all this, to have found righteous Noah, the father of the new world, lying drunken in his tent ? Who would think that wine should overthrow him, that was preserved from the waters ? That he, who could not be tainted with the sinful examples of the former world, should begin the example of a new sin of his own ? What are we men, if we be but ourselves ! While God upholds us, no temptation can move us : when he leaves us, no temptation is too weak to overthrow us. What living man ever had so noble proofs of the mercy, of the justice of God ! Mercy upon himself, justice upon others. What man had so gracious approbation from his Maker ! Behold, he, of whom in an unclean world God said, Thee only have I found righteous, proves now un- clean when the world was purged. The preacher of righteous- ness unto the former age, the king, priest, and prophet of the world i-enevved, is the first that renews the sins of that world which he had reproved, and which he saw condemned for sin : God's best children have no fence for sins of infirmity : which of the saints have not once done that, whereof they are ashamed? God, that Jets us fall, knows how to make as good use of the sins of his holy ones, as of their obedience : If we had not such patterns, who could choose but despair at the sight of his sins ?
Yet we find Noah drunken but once. One act can no more make a good heart unrighteous, than a trade of sin can stand with regeneration : but when I look to the effect of this sin, I cannot but blush and wonder : Lo, this sin is worse than sin ; other sins move shame, but hide it ; this displays it to the world. Adam had
OF NOAH.
23
no sooner sinned, but lie saw and abhorred Ins own nakedness, seeking to hide it even with bushes.
Noah had no sooner sinned, but he discovers his nakedness, and hath not so much rule of himself, as to be ashamed : one hour's drunkenness bewrays that, which more than six hundred years so- briety had modestly concealed ; he, that gives himself to wine, is not his own : what shall we think of this vice, which robs a man of himself, and lays a beast in his room ? Noah's nakedness is seen in wine : it is no unusual quality, in this excess to disclose secrets ; drunkenness doth both make imperfections, and shew those we have to others' eyes ; so would God have it, that we might be dou- bly ashamed, both of those weaknesses which we discover, and of that weakness which moved us to discover.
Noah is uncovered ; but in the midst of his own tent : it had been sinful, though no man had seen it : unknown sins have their guilt and shame, and are justly attended with known punishments. Ungracious Cham saw it and laughed ; his father's shame should have been his ; the deformity of those parts from which he had his being, should have begotten in him a secret horror, and dejection : how many graceless men make sport at the causes of their humilia- tion ! Twice had Noah given him life : yet neither the name of a father, and preserver, nor age, nor virtue, could shield him from the contempt of his own. 1 see that even God's ark may nourish monsters : some filthy toads may lie under the stones of the tem- ple. God preserves some men in judgment; better had it been for Cham to have perished in the waters, than to live unto his father's curse.
Not content to be a witness of this filthy sight, he goes on to be a proclaimcr of it. Sin doth ill in the eye, but worse in the tongue : as all sin is a work of darkness, so it should be buried in darkness. The report of sin is oft-times as ill, as the commission ; for it can never be blazoned without uncharitableness ; seldom, without in- fection : Oh the unnatural and more than Chammish impiety of those sons, which rejoice to publish the nakedness of their spiritual parents even to their enemies !
Yet it was well for Noah that Cham could tell it to none but his own ; and those, gracious and dutiful sons. Our shame is the less, if none know our faults but our friends. Behold, how love cover- eth sins ; these good sons are so far from going forward to see their father's shame, that they go backward to hide it. Thecloke is laid on both their shoulders, they both go back with equal paces, and dare not so much as look back, lest they should unwillingly sec the cause of their shame ; and will rather adventure to stumble at their father's body, than to see his nakedness : how did it grieve them to think, that they, which had so oft come to their holy fa- . tlier with reverence, must now in reverence turn their backs upon him ; and that they must now clothe him in pity, which had so often clothed them in love ! And, which adds more to their duty, they covered him, and said nothing. This modest sorrow is their praise, and our example : the sins of those we love and honour,
24
CONTEMPLATIONS.
we must hear of with indignation, fearfully and unwillingly be- lieve, acknowledge with grief and shame, hide with honest ex- cuses, and bury in silence.
How equal a regard is this both of piety and disobedience! be- cause Cham sinned against his father, therefore he shall be plagued in his children ; Japheth is dutiful to his father, and finds it in his posterity. Because Cham was an ill son to his father, there- fore his sons shall be servants to his brethren ; because Japheth set his shoulder to Shem's, to bear the cloke of shame, therefore shall Japheth dwell in the tents of Shem, partaking with him in bless- ings as in duty. When we do but what we ought, yet God is thankful to us ; and rewards that, which we should sin if we did not : who could ever yet shew me a man rebelliously undutiful to his parents, that hath prospered in himself, and his seed ?
Gen. vii, ix.
OF BABEL.
How soon are men and sins multiplied ! within one hundred years the world is as full of both, as if there had been no deluge. Though men could not but see the fearful monuments of the ruin of their ancestors, yet how quickly had they forgotten a flood ! Good Noah lived to see the world both populous and wicked again ; ' and doubtless oft-times repented to have been preserver of some, whom he saw to traduce the vices of the former world, to the renewed. It could not but grieve him, to see the destroyed giants revive out of his own loins, and to see them of his flesh and blood tyrannize over themselves. In his sight Nimrod, casting off the awe of his holy grandfather, grew imperious and cruel, and made his own kinsmen servants. How easy a thing it is for a great spirit to be the head of a faction, when even brethren will stoop to servitude ! And now when men are combined together, evil and presumptuous motions find encouragement in multitudes; and each man takes a pride in seeming fonvardest : we are the cheerfuller in good when we have the assistance of company ; much more in sinning, by how much we are more prone to evil than good. It Avas a proud word, Come, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach to heaven.
They were newly come down from the hills unto the plains, and now think of raising up a hill, of building in the plain: when their tents w-ere pitched upon the mountains of Armenia, they were as near to heaven as their tower could make them ; but their ambition must needs aspire to a height of their own raising. Pride is ever discontented, and still seeks matter of boasting in her own works.
How fondly do men reckon without God ! Come, let us build; as if there had been no stop but in their own will ; as if both earth and time had been theirs. Still do all natural men build Babel ; forecasting their own plots so resolutely, as if there were no power
OF BABEL. 25 to countermand them. It is just with God that peremptory deter- minations seldom prosper ; whereas those things, which are fear- fully and modestly undertaken, commonly succeed.
Let us build us a city. If they had taken God with them, it had been commendable ; establishing of societies is pleasing to him that is the God of order : but a tower whose top may reach to hea- ven, was a shameful arrogance, an impious presumption. Who would think that we little ants that creep upon the earth, should think of climbing up to heaven, by multiplying of earth ?
Pride ever looks at the highest : the first man would know as God, these would dwell as God ; covetousness and ambition know no limits. And what if they had reached up to heaven ? some hills are as high as they could hope to be, and yet are no whit the better ; no place alters the condition of nature : an angel is glo- rious, though he be upon earth ; and man is but earth, though he be above the clouds, The nearer they had been to heaven, the more subject should they have been to the violences of heaven ; to thunders, lightnings, and those other higher inflammations ; what had this been, but to thrust themselves into the hands of the re- venger of all wicked insolencies ? God loves that heaven should be Jooked at, and aiFected with all humble desires, with the holy am- bitions of faith, not with the proud imaginations of our own achievements.
But wherefore was all this ? Not that they loved so much to be neighbours to heaven, as to be famous upon earth ; it was not com- modity that was here sought, Hot safety, but glory ; whither doth not thirst of fame carry men, whether in good or evil! It makes them seek to climb to heaven •, it makes thein not fear to run down headlong to hell. Even in the best things, desire of praise stands in competit ion with conscience, and brags to have the more clients. One builds a temple to Diana, in hope of glory, intending it for one of the great wonders of the world ; another, in hope of fame, burns it. He is a rare man that hath not some Babel of his own, whereon he bestows pains and cost, only to be talked of. If they had done better things in a vain glorious purpose, their act had been accursed ; if they had built houses to God, if they had sacrificed, prayed, lived well \ the intent poisons the action: but now, both the act and the purpose are equally vain, and the issue is as vain as either.
God hath a special indignation at pride, above all sins ; and will cross our endeavours, not for that they are evil, (what hurt could be in laying one brick upon another?) but for that they are proud- ly undertaken. He could have hindered the laying of the first stone ; and might as easily have made a trench for the foundation, the grave of the builders ; but he loves to see what wicked men would do, and to let fools run themselves out of breath : what mo- nument should they have had of their own madness, and his pow- erful interruption, if the walls had risen to no height ?
To stop them then in the midst of their course, he meddles not with either their hands, or their feet, but their tongues ; not by
26 CONTEMPLATIONS.
pulling them out, not by loosing their strings, nor by making them say nothing, but by teaching them to say too much : here is no- thing varied but the sound of letters ; even this frustrates the work, and befools the workmen : how easy it is for God ten thou- sand ways to correct and forestal the greatest projects of men ! He, that taught Adam the first words, taught them words that ne- ver were. One calls for brick, the other looks him in the face, and wonders what he commands, and how and why he speaks such words as were never heard ; and instead thereof brings him mor- tar, returning him an answer as little understood: each chides with other, expressing his choler, so as he only can understand himself; from heat they fall to quiet intreaties, but still with the same suc- cess. At first, every man thinks his fellow mocks him ; but now, perceiving this serious confusion, their onlv answer was silence, and ceasing : they coidd not come together, for no man could call them to be understood ; and if they had assembled, nothing could be determined, because one could never attain to the other's pur- pose : no, they could not have the honour of a general dismission, but each man leaves his trowel and station, more like a fool than he undertook it : so commonly actions begun in glory, shut up in shame.
All external actions depend upon the tongue : no man can know another's mind, if this be not the interpreter ; hence, as there were many tongues given to stay the building of Babel, so there were as many given t o build the New Jerusalem, the evangelical Church. How dear hath Babel cost all the world ! At the first, when there was but one language, men did spend their time in arts, (so was it requisite at the first settling of the world) and so came early to perfection ; but now we stay so long (of necessity) upon the shell of tongues, that we can hardly have time to chew the sweet kernel of knowledge : surely men would have grown too proud, if there had been no Babel ! It falls out oft-times that one sin is a remedy of a greater. Division of tongues must needs slacken any work : multiplicity of language had not been given by the Holy Ghost, for a blessing to the Church, if the world had not been be- fore possessed with multiplicity of languages for a punishment : hence it is, that the building of our Sion rises no faster, because our tongues are divided ; happy were the Church of God, if we all spake but one language : while we differ, we can build nothing but Babel ; difference of tongues caused their Babel to cease, but it builds ours. Gen. xi.
OF ABRAHAM.
It was fit that he, which should be the father and pattern of the faithful, should be thoroughly tried ; for in a set copy every fault is important, and may prove a rule of error. Of ten trials which Abraham past, the last was the sorest. No son of Abraham can hope to escape temptations, while he sees that bosom, in which he de- s res to rest, so assaidted with difficulties.
OF ABRAHAM. 27
Abraham must leave his country and kindred, and iive amongst strangers : the calling of God never leaves men, where k finds them": the earth is the Lord's, and all places are alike to the wise and faithful. If Chaldea had not been grossly idolatrous, Abra- ham had not left it ; no bond must tie us to the danger of in- fection.
But whither must he go ? to a place he knew not, to men that knew not him: it is enough comfort to a good man, wheresoever he is, that he is acquainted with God; we are never out of our way, while we follow the calling of God. Never any man lost by his obedience to the Highest; because-Abraham yielded, God gives him the possession of Canaan : I wonder more at his faith in taking this possession, than ii> leaving his own ; behold, Abraham takes possession for that seed which he had not, which in nature he was not like to have; of that land whereof he should not have one foot, wherein his seed should not be settled of almost five hundred years after : the power of faith can prevent time, and make future things present; if we be the true sons of Abraham, we have already, while we sojourn here on earth, the possession of our Land of Pro- mise : while we seek our country, we have it.
Yet even Canaan doth not afford him bread, which yet he must believe shall flow with milk and honey to his seed : sense must yield, to faith ; woe were us, if we must judge of our futufe estate by the present: Egypt gives relief to Abraham, when Canaan can- not. In outward things God's enemies may fare better than his friends. Thrice had Egypt preserved the Church of God, in Abra- ham, in Jacob, in Christ; God oft-times makes use of the world, for the behoof of his, though without their thanks : as contrariljr he uses the wicked for scourges to his own inheritance, and burns them ; because in his good they intended evil.
But what a change is this ! hitherto hath Sarah been Abraham's wife, now Egypt hath made her his sister: fear hath turned him from a husband to a brother ; no strength of faith can exclude some doubtings : God hath said, " I will make thee a great nation ;" Abra- ham says, " The Egyptians will kill nie :" he, that lived by his faith, yet shrinketh andsinneth. How vainly shall we hope to be- lieve without all fear, and to live without infirmities! Some little aspersions of unbelief cannot hinder the praise and power of faith ; Abraham believed, and it was imputed to him for righteousness. He, that through inconsideratcness doubted twice of his own life, doubted not the life of his seed, even from the dead and dry womb of Sarah : yet was it more difficult that his posterity should live in Sarah, than that Sarah's husband should live in Egypt : this was above nature, yet he believes it. Sometimes the believer sticks at easy trials, and yet breaks through the greatest temptations with- out fear. Abraham was old, ere this promise and hope of a son ; ar.d still the older, the more incapable: yet God makes him wait twenty-five years for performance. No time is long to faith ; which had learned to defer hopes without fainting and hksomencss.
28 CONTEMPLATIONS.
Abraham heard this news from the angel, and laughed ; Sarah heard it, and laughed : they did not more agree in their desire, than differ in their affection : Abraham laughed for joy ; Sarah, for distrust: Abraham laughed, because he believed it would be so; Sarah, because she believed it could not be so : the same act va- ries in the manner of doing, and the intention of the doer. Yet Sa- rah laughed but within herself, and is betrayed : how God can find us out in secret sins! How easily did she now think, that he, which could know of her inward laughter, could know of her conception ; and now she that laughed, and believed not, believeth and feareth.
What a lively pattern do I see in Abraham and Sarah of a strong faith, and weak ! of strong in Abraham, and weak in Sarah. She, to make God good of his word to Abraham, knowing her own bar- renness, substitutes a Hagar, and in an ambition of seed persuades to polygamy. Abraham had never looked to obtain the promise by any other than a barren womb, if his own wife had not impor- tuned him to take another. When our own apparent means fail, weak faith is put to the shifts ; and projects strange devices of her own to attain the end. She will rather conceive by another womb than be childless : when she hears of an impossibility to nature, she doubteth, and yet hides her diffidence ; and when she must be- lieve, feareth, because she did distrust : Abraham hears and be- lieves, and expects and rejoices ; he saith not, " I am old and Weak, Sarah is old and barren ; where are the many nations that shall come from these withered loins ?" It is enough to him that God hath said it : he sees not the means, he sees the promise. He knew that God would rather raise him up seed from the very stones that, he trod upon, than himself should want a large and happy issue.
There is no faith, where there is either means or hopes. Difficul- ties and impossibilities are the true objects of belief: hereupon God adds to his name, that which he would fetch from his loins, and made his name as ample as his posterity : never any man was a loser by believing : faith is ever recompensed with glory.
Neither is Abraham content only to wait for God, but to smart for him : God bids him cut his own flesh ; he willingly sacrifices this parcel of his skin and blood to him, that was the owner of all : How glad he is to carry this painful mark of the love of his Cre- ator ! bow forward to seal this covenant with blood, betwixt God and him ! not regarding the soreness of his body, in comparison of the confirmation of his soul. The wound was not so grievous as the signification was comfortable. For herein he saw, that from his loins should come that blessed Seed, which should purge his soul from all corruption. Well is that part of ns lost, which may give assurance of the salvation of the whole ; our faith is not yet sound, if it have not taught us to neglect pain for God, and more to love his sacraments than our own flesh. Gen. xii.
29
OF ISAAC SACRIFICED.
But all these are but easy tasks of faith : all ages have stood amazed at the next ; not knowing whether they should more won- der at God's command, or Abraham's obedience. Many years had that good patriarch waited for his Isaac ; now at last he hath joy- fully received him, and that with this gracious acclamation ; In Isaac shall thy seed be called, and all nations blessed. Behold, the son of his age, the son of his love, the son of his expectation, he that might not endure a mock from his brother, must now endure the knife of his father : Take thine only son Isaac whom thou loves t, and get thee to the land of Moriuh, and offer him there for a burnt offering.
Never any gold was tried in so hot a fire. Who but Abraham would not have expostulated with God ? " What ! doth the God of mercies now begin to delight in blood ? Is it possible that mur- der should become piety ? or, if thou wilt needs take pleasure in a human sacrifice, is there none but Isaac fit for thine altar ; none but Abraham to offer him ? Shall these hands destroy the fruits of mine own loins ? Can I not be faithful unless I be unnatural ; or, if I must needs be the monster of all parents, will not Ishmael yet be ac- cepted ? O God, where is thy mercy ; where is thy justice ? Hast thou given me but one only son, and must I now slay him ? Why did I wait so long for him ? Why didst thou give him me ? Wiry didst thou promise me a blessing in him i What will the heathen say, when they shall hear of this infamous massacre ? How can thy name and my profession escape a perpetual blasphemy r With what face shall I look upon my wife Sarah, whose son I have mur- dered ? How shall she entertain the executioner of Isaac ? or who will believe that I did this from thee ? How shall not all the world spit at this holy cruelty, and say, ' There goes the man that cut the throat of his own son ?' Yet if he were an ungracious or rebel- lious child, his deserts might give some colour to this violence ; but to lay hands on so dear, so dutiful, so hopeful a son, is incapable of all pretences. But grant that thou, which art the God of nature, mayest either alter or neglect it : what shall I say to the truth of thy promises ? Can thy justice admit contradictions ? Can thy decrees be changeable ? Canst thou promise and disappoint ? Can these two stand together, ' Isaac shall live to be the father of nations and 1 Isaac shall now die by the hand of his father ?' When Isaac is once gone, where is my seed, where is my blessing ? O God, if thy commands and purposes be capable of alteration, alter this bloody sentence, and let thy first word stand."
These would have been the thoughts of a weak heart : but God knew that he spake to an Abraham, and Abraham knew that he had to do with a God : faith had taught him not to argue, but obey. In a holy wilfulness he either forgets nature, or despises her ;
30 CONTEMPLATIONS.
he is sure that what God commands, is good ; that what he pro- mises, is infallible ; and therefore is careless of the means, and trusts to the end.
In matters of God, whosoever consults with flesh and blood shall never offer up his Isaac to God : there needs no counsellor when we know God is the commander : here is neither grudging, nor delibe- rating, nor delaying : his faith would not suffer him so much as to be sorry for that he must do. Sarah herself may not know of God's charge, and her husband's purpose, lest her affection should have overcome her faith ; lest her weakness, now grown importunate, should have said, " Disobey God and die." That which he must do, he will do ; he, that hath learned not to regard the life of his son, had learned not to regard the sorrow of his wife. It is too much tenderness to respect the censures and constructions of others, when we have a direct word from God.
The good patriarch rises early, and addresses himself to his sad journey. And now must he travel three whole days to this execu- tion ; and still must Isaac be in his eye, whom all this while he seems to see bleeding upon the pile of wood which he carries : there is nothing so miserable as to dwell under the expectation of a great evil; that misery which must be, is mitigated with speed, and aggravated with delay. All this while, if Abraham had re- pented him, he had leisure to return.
There is no small trial even in the very time of trial. Now, when they are come within sight of the chosen mountain, the servants are dismissed ; what a devotion is this that will abide no witnesses ! He will not suffer two of his own vassals to see him do that, which soon after all the world must know he hath done ; yet is not Abra- ham afraid of that piety, which the beholders could not see without horror, without resistance ; which no ear could hear of without abomination. What stranger could have endured to see the father carry the knife and fire, instruments of that death, which he would rather suffer than inflict? — The son securely carrying that burden which must carry him ?
But if Abraham's heart could have known how to relent, that question of his dear, innocent, and religious son had melted it into compassion ; My father, behold the fire and the wood, but where is the sacrifice f I know not whether that word, My father, did not strike Abraham as deep as the knife of Abraham could strike his son : yet doth he not so much as think, " O miserable man, that may not at once be a son to such a God, and a father to such a son ;" still he persists, and conceals, and, where he meant not, pro- phesies ; My son, God shall provide a lamb for the burnt offering.
The heavy tidings were loath to come forth : it was a death to Abraham to say what he must do : he knows his own faith to act this, he knows not Isaac's to endure it. But now when Isaac hath helped to build the altar, whereon he must be consumed, he hears, not without astonishment, the strange command of God, the final will of his father: " My son, thou art the lamb which God hath provided for this burnt-oifering : if my blood would have excused
OF ISAAC SACRIFICED. 31
thee, how many thousand times would I rather to give tlicc mine own life than take thine ! Alas, I am full of days, and now of long lived not but in thee ; thou mightest have preserved the life of thy father, and have comforted his death, but the God of us both hath chosen thee: he, that gave thee unto me miraculously, bids me by an unusual means return thee unto him. I need not tell thee, that I sacritice all my worldly joys, yea and myself, in thee ; but God must be obeyed ; neither art thou too dear for him that calls thee: come on, my son, restore the life that God hath given thee by me : offer thyself willingly to these flames; send up thy soul cheerful- ly unto thy glory ; and know that God loves thee above others, since he requires thee alone to be consecrated in sacrifice to him- self."
Who cannot imagine with what perplexed mixtures of passions, with what changes of countenance, what doubts, what fears, what amazement, good Isaac received this sudden message from the mouth of his father, how he questioned, hovv lie pleaded ? But when he had somewhat digested his thoughts, and considered that the author was God, the actor Abraham, the action a sacrifice, he now approves himself the son of Abraham ; now he encourages the trembling hand of his father, with whom he strives in this praise of forwardness and obedience ; now he offers his hands and feet to the cords, his throat to the knife, his body to the altar ; and growing ambitious of the sword and fire, intreats his father to do that which he would have done though he had dissuaded him. O holy emu- lation of faith ! O blessed agreement of the sacrificer and obla- tion ! Abraham is as ready to take, as Isaac to give ; he binds those dear hands, which are more straitly bound with the cords of duty and resolution : he lays his sacrifice upon the wood, which now be- fore-hand burnt inwardly with the heavenly fire of zeal and de- votion.
And now, having kissed him his last, not without mutual tears, he lifts up his hand to fetch the stroke of death at once, not so much as thinking, " perhaps God will relent after the first wound." Now, the stay of Abraham, the hope of the Church, lies about to bleed under the hand of a father : what bowels can choose but yearn at this spectacle ? which of the savagest heathens that had been now upon the hill of Moriab, and had seen, through the bushes, the sword of a father hanging over the throat of such a son, would not have been more perplexed in his thoughts, than that unexpect- ed sacrifice was in those briars ? yet he whom it nearest concerned is least touched ; faith hath wrought the same in him which cruelty would in others, not to be moved. He contemns all fears, and overiocksall impossibilities ; his heart tells him that the same hand, which raised Isaac frcm the dead womb of Sarah, can raise him again from the ashes of his sacrifice : with this confidence was 'the hand of Abraham now falling upon the throat of Isaac, who had given himself for dead, and rejoiced in the change ; when sudden- ly the angel of God interrupts him, forbids him, commends him.
The voice of God was never so welcome, nev«<r so sweet, never
32 CONTEMPLATIONS.
so seasonable as now : it was the trial, that God intended, not the fact; Isaac is sacrificed, and is yet alive: and now both of them are more happy in that they would have done, than they could have been distressed if they had done it. God's charges are oft-times harsh in the beginnings and proceeding, but in the conclusion al- ways comfortable : true spiritual comforts are commonly late and sudden : God defers on purpose that our trials may be perfect, our deliverance welcome, our recompence glorious ; Isaac had never been so precious to his father, if he had not been recovered from death ; if he had not been as miraculously restored as given : Abra- ham had never been so blessed in his seed, if he had not neglected Isaac for God. The only way to find comfort in any earthly ching, is to surrender it, in a faithful carelessness, into the hands of God.
Abraham came to sacrifice, he may not go away with dry hands : God cannot abide that good purposes should be frustrated. Lest either he should not do that for which he came, or should want means of speedy thanksgiving for so gracious a disappointment ; behold a ram stands ready for the sacrifice, and, as it were, prof- fers himself to this happy exchange. He, that made that beast, brings him thither, fastens him there : even in small things there is a great providence. What mysteries there are in every act of God ! the only Son of God, upon this very hill is laid upon the altar of the Cross ; and so becomes a true sacrifice for the world, that yet he is raised without impeachment, and exempted from the power of death : the Lamb of God, which takes away the sins of the world, is here really offered and accepted : one Saviour in two figures ; in the onedving ; restored in the other. So Abraham, while he ex- ercises his faith, confirms it ; and rejoices more to foresee the true Isaac in that place offered to death for his sins, than to see the car- nal Isaac preserved from death for the reward of his faith.
Whatsoever is dearest to us upon earth is our Isaac ; happy are we if we can sacrifice it to God : those shall never rest with Abra- ham, that cannot sacrifice with Abraham. Gen. xxu.
OF LOT AND SODOM.
Before Abraham and Lot grew rich, they dwelt together ; now their wealth separates them : their society was a greater good than their riches ; many a one is a loser by his wealth : who would account those things good which make us worse?
It had been the duty of young Lot to offer rather than to choose ; to yield rather than contend : who would not here think Abraham the" nephew, and Lot the uncle \ It is no disparagement for greater persons to begin treaties of peace. Better doth it beseem ever}- son of Abraham to win with love, than to sway with power. Abraham yields over this right of his choice ; Lot takes it. And behold, Lot is crossed in that which he chose, Abraham is blessed in that which was left him ; God never suffers any man to lose, by an humble remission of his right in a desire of peace.
OF LOT AND SODOMi
93
Wealth had made Lot not only undutiful, but covetous ; be sees the good plains of Jordan, the richness of the soil, the commodity of the rivers, the situation of the cities, and now, not once inquiring' into the conditions of the inhabitants, he is in love with Sodom : outward appearances are deceitful guides to our judgment, or af- fections: they are worthy to be deceived that value things as they seem : it is not long after, that Lot pays dear for his rashness. He fled for quietness with his uncle, and finds war with strangers : now is he carried prisoner with all his substance, by great enemies ; Abraham must rescue him, of whom he was forsaken. That wealth, which was the cause of his former quarrels, is made a pre}'' to mer- ciless heathens : that place, which his eye covetously chose, betrays his life and goods. How many Christians, while they have looked at gain, have lost themselves !
Yet this ill success hath neither driven out Lot, nor amended Sodom ; he still loves his commodity, and the Sodomites their sins: wicked men grow worse with afflictions, as water grows more cold after a heat ; and as they leave not sinning, so God leaves not plaguing them, but still follows them with succession of judg- ments. In how few years hath Sodom forgot she was spoiled, and led captive ! If that wicked city had been warned by the sword, it had escaped the fire ; but now this visitation hath not made ten good men, in those five cities : how fit was this heap for the fire, which was all chad'! Only Lot vexed his righteous soul with the sight of their uncleanness ; he vexed his own soul, for who bade him stay there? yet because he was vexed, he is delivered. He escapeth their judgment from whose sins he escaped. Though lie would be a guest of Sodom, yet because he would not enter- tain their sins, he becomes a host to the angels : even the good angels are the executioners of God's judgment : there cannot be a better or more noble act, than to do justice upon obstinate ma- lefactors.
Who can be ashamed of that which did not mis-beseem the very- angels of God ? Where should the angels lodge but with lx>t > the houses of holy men are full of these heavenly spirits, when they know not ; they pitch their tents in ours, and visit us, when we see not ; and when we feel not, protect us. It is the honour of God's saints to be attended by angels. The filthy Sodomites now flock together, stiried up with the fury of envy and lust ; and dare re- quire to do that in troops, which to act single, had been too abo- minable ; to imagine, unnatural : continuance and society in evil, makes wicked men outrageous and impudent : ft is not enough for Lot to be the witness, but he must be the bawd also. Bring forth these men, th-it we may know them. Behold ! even the Sodomites speak modestly ; though their acts and intents be villanous. What a shame is it iorvthose which profess purity of heart, to speak filthily! '
The good man craves and pleads the laws of hospitality ; and vox,, i. D
i4 CONTEMPLATIONS.
■when lie sees headstrong purposes of mischief, chooses rather to be an ill father than an ill host : his intention was good, but his offer was faulty ; if through his allowance the Sodomites had defiled his daughters, it had been his sin ; if through violence they had de- filed his guests, it had been oulv theirs : there can be no warrant tor us to sin, lest others should sin : it is for God to prevent sins with judgments, it is not for men to prevent a greater sin with a less : the best minds, wiien thev are troubled, yield inconsiderate motions ; as water, that is violently stirred, sends up bubbles : God meant better to Lot, than to surfer his weak offer to be accepted : those which are bent upon villany arc more exasperated bv dis- suasion ; as some strong streams, when they are resisted by flood- gates, swell over the banks.
Many a one is hardened by the good Word of God ; and instead of receiving the counsel, rages at the messenger : when men are grown to that pass, that they are no whit better bv afflictions, and worse with admonitions, God finds it time to strike. Now Lot's guests begin to shew themselves angels, and first deliver Lot in Sodom, then from Sodom ; first strike them with blindness, whom they will after consume with fire. How little did the Sodomites think that vengeance was so near them ! While thev went groping in the street, and cursing those whom they could not find, Lot with the angels is in secure light, and sees them miserable, and foresee* them burning. It is the use of God to blind and besot those whom he means to destroy : the light which they shall see shall be fierv, which shall be the beginning of an everlasting darkness, and a fire unquenchable.
Now thev have done sinning, and God begins to judge- wick- edness hath but a time, the punishment of wickedness is beyond all time. The residue of the night was both short and dangerous. Yet, good Lot, though sought for by the Sodomites, and newly pulled into his house bv the angels, goes forth of his house to seek his sons-in-law : no good man would be saved alone ; faith makes us charitable with neglect of all peril : he warns them like a pro- phet, and advises them like a father, but both in vain ; he seems to them as if he mocked, and they do more than seem to mock him again. " Why should to-morrow differ from other days r Who ever saw it rain fire f or whence should that brimstone come ? Or if such showers must fall, how shall nothing burn but tins valley r" So to carnal men preaching is foolishness, devotion idleness, the prophets madmen, Paul a babbler : these men's incredulity is as worthy of the fire, as the others' uncleanness. He, that believes not, is condemned already.
The messengers of God do not only hasten Lot, but pull him by a gracious violence, out of that impure city. They thirsted at once after vengeance upon Sodom, and Lot's Afety ; they knew God could not strike Sodom, till Lot were gone out, and that Lot could not be safe within those walls. We are naturally in Sodom : if God did not hale us out, whilst we linger, we should be con-
or lot and sodom. 35
demned with the world. If God meet with a very good field, he pulls up the weeds, and lets the corn grow; if indifferent, he lets the corn and weeds grow together ; if very ill, he gathers the few ears of corn, and burns the weeds.
Oh the large bounty of God, which reacheth not to us only, but to ours ! God saves Lot for Abraham's sake, and Zoar for Lot's sake ; if Sodom had not beea too wicked, it had escaped : were it not for God's dear children, that are intermixed with the world, it could not stand : the wicked owe their lives unto those few good, whom they hate and persecute.
Now at once the sun rises upon Zoar, and fire falls down upon Sodom : Abraham stands upon the hill, and sees the cities burning ; it is fair weather with God's children, when it is foulest with the wicked. Those, which burned with the fire of lust, are now con- sumed with the fire of vengeance : they sinned against nature ; and now against the course of nature, fire descends from heaven, and consumes them.
Lot may not so much as look at the flame, whether for the stay of his passage, or the horror of the sight, or trial of his faith, or fear of commiseration. Small precepts from God are of impor- tance; obedience is as well tried, and disobedience as well pu- nished, in little, as in much : his wife doth but turn back her head, whether in curiosity, or unbelief, or love and compassion of the place ; she is turned into a monument of disobedience : what doth it avail her not to be turned into ashes in Sodom, when she is turned into a pillar of salt in the plain ! He, that saved a whole city, cannot save his own wife. God cannot abide small sins, in those whom he hath obliged. If we displease him, God can as well meet with us out of Sodom. Lot, now come into Zoar, marvels at the stay of her, whom he might not before look back to call ; and soon after returning to seek her, beholds this change with wonder and grief : he finds salt instead of flesh, a pillar instead of a wife: he finds Sodom consumed, and her standing ; and is more amazed with this, by how much it was both more near him, and less expected.
When God delivers us from destruction, he doth not secure us from all afflictions : Lot hath lost his wife, his allies, his substance, and now betakes himself to an uncomfortable solitariness.
Yet though he fled from company, lie could not fly from sin : he, who could not be tainted witn uncleanness in Sodom, is over- taken with drunkennness and incest in a cave: rather than Satan shall want baits, his own daughters will prove Sodomites: those, which should have comforted, betrayed him : how little are some hearts moved with judgments ! the ashes of Sodom, and the pdlar of salt, were not yet out of their eye, when they dare think of lying with their own father. They knew that whilst Lot was sober, he could not be unchaste : drunkenness is the way o all bestial affec- tion sand acts. Wine knows no difference either of persons, or sins : No doubt, Lot was afterwards ashamed of his incestuous
S6 CONTEMPLATIONS.
seed, and now wished he had come alone out of Sodom ; yet eveu this unnatural bed was blessed with increase ; and one of our Sa- viour's worthy ancestors sprung after from this line. God's elec- tion is not tied to our means ; neither are blessings or curses ever traduced : the chaste bed of holy parents hath oft-times bred a monstrous generation ; and contrarily, God hath raised sometimes a holy seed from the drunken bed of incest or fornication. It hath been seen, that weighty ears of corn have grown out of the compass of the tilled field : thus will God magnify the freedom of his own choice; and let us know that we are not born, but made good. Gen, xiii, xix.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK III.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE LORD DENNY,
BARON OF WALTHAM, MY SINGULAR GOOD PATRON, ALL GRACE AND HAPPINESS,
RIGHT honourable:-
I KNOW, and in all humility confess, how weak my discourse is, and how unworthy of this divine subject which J have under- taken ; which if an angel from heaven should say he could suffi- ciently comment upon, I should distrust him : yet this let me say, without any vain boasting, that these thoughts, such as they are, through the blessing of God, I have woven out of myself ; as hold- ing it after our Saviour's rule, better to give, than to receive. It is easier to heap together large volumes of others' labours, than to work out lesser of our own ; and the suggestion of one new thought, is better than many repeated.
This part (which together with the Author is your' 's J shall present to your Lordship the busiest of all the patriarchs, together with his trials, and success : wherein you shall see Esau stripped by fraud of that which he willingly sold ; Jacob's hard adventures jor the blessing, and no less hard services for his wh>es and sub- stance, his dangerous encounters ending joyfully , the rape of his only daughter, seconded with the treacherous murder of his sons ; JudaKs wrong to Tamar repayed by his own uncleanness ; Jo- seph's sale, imprisonment, honour, piety ; the sin of his brethren well bestowed, well answered. I so touch at the uses of all these, as one that knows it is easy to say more, and impossible to say enough. God give a blessing to my endeavours, and a pardon to my weakness, to your Lordship an increase of his graces, and per- fection of all happiness.
Your Lordship's humbly
and officiously devoted in all duty,
JOSEPH HALL.
OF JACOB AND ESAU.
Of all the patriarchs, none make so little noise in the world as Isaac ; none lived either so privately, or so innocently : neither know I whether he approved himself a better son or husband. For the one ; he gave himself over to the knife of his father, and
38 CONTEMPLATIONS.
mourned three years for his mother : for the other ; he sought not to any handmaid's bed, but in a chaste forbearance reserved him- self for twenty years' space, and prayed : Rebecca was so long barren : his prayers proved more effectual than his seed. At last she conceived, as if she had been more than the daughter-in-law to Sarah, whose son was given her, not out of the power of nature, but of her husband's faith.
God is oft better to us than we would : Isaac prays for a son ; God gives him two at once : now, she is no less troubled with the strife of the children in her womb, than before with the want of children : we know not when we are pleased ; that which we de- sire, oft-times discontents us more in the fruition ; we are ready to complain both full and fasting. Before Rebecca conceived, she was at ease : before spiritual regeneration there is all peace in the sou! ; no sooner is the new man formed in us, but the flesh con- flicts with the spirit. There is no grace where is no unquietness : Esau alone would not have striven : nature will ever agree with it- self. Never anv Rebecca conceived only an Esau, or was so happy as to conceive none but a Jacob ; she must be the mother of both, that she may have both joy and exercise. This strife began early ; every true Israelite begins his war with his being. How many ac- tions which we know not of, are not without presage and signi- fication !
These two were the champions of two nations ; the field was thejr mother's womb ; their quarrel precedency and superiority. Ei,au got the right of nature, Jacob of grace : yet that there might be some pretence of equalitv, lest Esau should outrun his brother into the world, Jacob holds him fast by the heel: so his hand was born before the other's foot: but because Esau was some minutes the elder, that the younger might have better claim to that which God had promised, he buys that which he could not win : if either by strife, or purchase, or suit, we can attain spiritual blessings, we are happy : if Jacob had come forth first, he had not known how much he was bound to God for the favour of his advancement.
There was never any meat, except the forbidden fruit, so dear bought as this broth of Jacob ; in both the receiver and the eater is accursed : every true son of Israel will be content to purchase spiritual favours with earthly ; and that man hath in him too much of the blood of Esau, which will not rather die than forego his birth-right.
But what hath careless Esau lost, if, having sold his birth-right, he may obtain the blessing ? Or what hath Jacob gained, if his brother's venison may countervail his pottage ? Yet thus hath old Isaac decreed ; who was not now more blind in his eyes, than in his affections : God had forewarned him that the elder should serve the younger, yet Isaac goes about to bless Esau.
It was not so hard for Abraham to reconcile God's promise and Isaac's sacrifice, as for Isaac to reconcile the superiority of Jacob with Esau's benediction ; for God's hand was in that, in this none hut his own : the dearest of God's saints have been sometimes
JACOB AND ESAU. 39
transported with natural affections : he saw himself preferred to Ishmael, though the elder ; he saw his father wilfully forgetting na- ture at God's command, in binding him for sacrifice ; he saw Esau lewdly matched with heathens ; and yet he will remember nothing, but, " Esau is my first-born :" but how gracious is God, that, when we would, will not let us sin ; and so orders our actions, that we do not what we will, but what we ought !
That God, which had ordained the. lordship to the younger, will also contrive for him the blessing : what he will have effected shall not want means : the mother shall rather defeat the son, and be- guile the father, than the father shall beguile the chosen son of his blessing. What was Jacob to Rebecca more than Esau ? or what mother doth not. more affect the elder t But now God inclines the love of the mother to the younger, against the custom of nature, because the father loves the elder, against the promise : the affec- tions of the parents are divided, that the promise might be fulfilled ; Rebecca's craft shall answer Isaac's partiality : Isaac would un- justly turn Esau into Jacob, Rebecca doth as cunningly turn Ja- cob into Esau : her desire was good, her means were unlawful ; God doth oft-times effect his just will by our weaknesses ; yet neither thereby justif}dng our infirmities, nor blemishing his own actions.
Here was nothing but counterfeiting ; a feigned person, a feigned name, feigned venison, a feigned answer, and yet behold, a true blessing ; but to the man, not to the moans : those were so unsound, that Jacob himself doth more fear their curse than hope for their success. Isaac was now both simple and old ; yet if he had perceived the fraud, Jacob had been more sure of a curse, than he could be sure that he should not be perceived.
Those, which are plain-hearted in themselves, are the bitterest enemies to deceit in others: Rebecca, presuming 'upon the oracle of God, and her husband's simplicity, dare be surety for the danger, his counsellor for the carriage of the business, his cook for the diet, yea, dresses Uoth the meat and the man ; and now puts words into his mouth, tile dish into his hand, the garments upon his back, the goat's-hair upon the open parts of his body, and sends him in thus furnished for the blessing ; standing no doubt, at the door, to see how well her lesson was learned, how well her device succeeded. And if old Isaac should by any of his senses liave dis- cerned the guise, she had soon stept in and undertaken the blame, and urged him with the known will of God concerning Jacob's dominion and Esau's servitude, which either age or affection had made him forget.
And now she wishes she could borrow Esau's tongue as well as his garments, that she might securely deceive all the senses of him, which had suffered himself to be more dangerously deceived with his affection : but this is past her remedy : her son must name himself Esau with the voice of Jacob. It is hard if our tongue do not bewray what we are, in spite of our habit. This was enough to work Isaac to a suspicion, to an inquiry, not to an incredulity :
40 CONTEMPLATIONS.
lie, that is good of himself, will hardlv believe evil of another ; and will rather distrust his own senses, than the fidelity of those he trusted. All the senses are set to examine ; none sticketh at the judgment hut the ear ; to deceive that, Jacob must second his dis- simulation with three lies at one breath : / am Esau ; as thou badst me ; my venison t one sin entertained fetcheth in another ; and if it be forced to lodge alone, either departeth or dieth : I love Ja- cob's blessing, but I hate his lie. I would not do that wilfully, which Jacob did weakly, upon condition of a blessing : he, that par- doned his infirmity, would curse my obstinacy.
Good Isaac sets his hands to try whether his ears informed him aright ; lie feels the hands of him whose voice he suspected: that honest heart could not think, that the skin might more easily be counterfeited, than the lungs: a small satisfaction contents those whom guiltiness hath not made scrupulous : Isaac believes and blesses the younger son in the garments of the elder : if our hea- venly Father smell upon our backs the savour of our elder brother's robes, we cannot depart from him unblessed.
No sooner is Jacob gone away full of the joy of his blessing, than Esau comes in full of the hope of the blessing : and now he cannot repent him to have sold that in his hunger for pottage, which in his pleasure he shall buy again with venison. The hopes of the wicked fail tiiem when they are at highest, whereas God's children find those comforts in extremity which they durst not expect.
Now he comes in blowing and sweating for his reward, and finds nothing but a repulse : lewd men, when the}' think they have earned of God, and come proudly to challenge favour, receive no answer, but, Who-art thou ? Both the father and the son wonder at each other ; the one with fear, the other with grief. Isaac trem- bled and Esau wept ; the one upon conscience, the other upon envy. Isaac's heart now told him, that he should not have purpos- ed the blessing where he did, and that it was due to him unto whom it was given and not purposed ; hence he durst not reverse that which he had done with God's will, besides his own : for now he saw that he had done unwilling justice : God will find both time and means to reclaim his own, to prevent their sins, to manifest and reform their errors. Who would have looked for tears from Esau ? Or who dare trust tears, when he sees them fall from so graceless eves ?
It was a good word, Bless vie also, my father : every miscreant can wish himself well : no man would be miserable, if it were enough to desire happiness : why did he not rather weep to his brother for the pottage, than to Isaac for a blessing ? If he had not then sold, he had not needed now to beg : it is just with God to deny us those favours, which we were careless in keeping, and which we undervalued in enjoying. Esau's tears find no place for Isaac's repentance ; except it were that he hath done that by wile, which he should have done upon duty.
No motive can cause a good heart to repent that he hath done well. How happy a thing it is, to know the seasons of grace, and
OF JACOB AND LABAN. 41
notto neglect them ! How desperate, to have known and neglected theiQ ! These tears were both late and false ; the tears of rage, of envy, of carnal desire: worldly sorrow causeth death: yet while Esau howls out thus for a blessing, I hear him cry out, of his fa- ther's store, Hast thou but one blessing, my father ? of his bro- ther's subtlety, l\*as he not rightly called Jacob? I do not hear him blame his own deserts. He did not see, while his father was deceived, and his brother crafty, that God was just, and himself incapable : he knew himself profane, and yet claims a blessing.
Those, that care not to please God, yet care for the outward fa- vours of God, and are ready to murmur if they want them ; as if God were bound to them, and they free. And yet so merciful is God, that he hath second blessings for those that love him not, and gn us them all they care for. That one blessing of special love is for none but Israel ; but those of common kindness are for them that can sell their birthright : this blessing was more than Esau could bo worthy of; yet, like a second Cain, he resolves to kill his brother, because he was more accepted : I know not whether he were a worse son or brother ; he hopes for his father's death, and purposes his brother's, and vows to shed blood instead of tears. But wicked men cannot be so ill as they would ; that strong wrest- ler, against whom Jacob prevailed, prevailed with Esau, and turned his wounds into kisses. A host of men came with Esau, an army of angels met Jacob : Esau threatened, Jacob praved : his prayers and presents have melted the heart of Esau into love. And now, instead of the grim and stern countenance of an executioner, Ja- cob sees the face of Esau, as the face of God. Both men and de- vils are stinted ; tiie stoutest heart cannot stand out against God. He, that can wrestle earnestly with God, is secure from the harms of men. Those minds, which are exasperated with violence, and cannot be broken with fear, yet are bowed with love ; when the ways of a man please God, he will make his enemies at peace with him. Gen. xxv, x.vvi, x.vvii.
OF JACOB AND LABAN.
Isaac's life was not more retired and quiet, than Jacob's was busy and troublesome. In the one I see the image of contemplation ; of action, in the other. None of the patriarchs saw so evil davs as he ; from whom justly hath the church of God therefore taken her name. Neither were the faithful over since called Abiu* hamites, but Israelites. That no time might be lost, he began his strife in the womb ; after that, he flies for his life from a cruel bro- ther to a cruel uncle. With a staff goes he over Jordan alone, doubtful and comfortless1, not like the son of Isaac. In the way , the earth is his bed, and a stone his pillow; yet even there he sees a vision of angels : Jacob's heart was never so full of joy, as when his head lay hardest. God is most present with us in our greatest dejection, and loves to give comfort to those that are forsaken of their hopes.
42
CONTEMPLATIONS.
He came far to find out a hard friend ; and of a nephew be- comes a servant. No doubt when Laban heard of his sister's son, he looked for the camels and attendance that came to fetch his sister Rebecca ; not thinking that Abraham's servant could come better furnished than Isaac's son : but now, when he saw nothing; but a start, he looks upon him, not as an uncle, but a master ; and while h^ pretends to offer him a wife as a reward of his service, he craftilv requires his service as thedourv of his wife.
After the service of a hard apprenticeship hath earned her whom he loved, his wife is changed, and he is in a sort forced to an un- willing- adultery •" his mother had before, in a cunning disguise, substituted him who was the younger son for the eider, and now not long after, his father-in-law, by a like fraud, substitutes to him the elder daughter for the vounger : God comes oftentimes home to us in our own kind : and even by the sin of others pavs us our own, when we look not for it. It is doubtful whether it were a greater cross to marrv whom he would not, or to be disappointed of her whom he desired. And now he must begin a new hope, where he made account of fruition. To raise up an expectation once frustrate, is more difficult, than to continue a long hope drawn on with likelihoods of performance ; vet thus dear is Jacob con- tent to pay for Rachel, fourteen vears' servitude. Commonly God's children come not easily by their pleasures : what miseries will not love digest and overcome ! and if Jacob were willingly con- sumed with h?at in the dav, and frost in the night, to become the son-in-law to Laban, what shouid we refuse to be the sons of God 3
Rachel, when he loved, is barren: Leah, who was despised, is fruitful : how wisely God weighs out to us our favours and crosses in an equal balance : so tempering our sorrows that they may not oppress, and our joys that thev may not transport us ! each one hath some matter of enw to others, and of grief to himself. Leah envies Rachel's beauty and love ; Rachel envies Leah's fruitfulness ; yet Leah would not be barren, nor Rachel blear-eved.
I see in Rachel the image of her grandmother Sarah ; both in her beauty of person, in her actions, in her success : she also will needs suborn her handmaid to make her a mother ; and at last, beyond hope, herself conceiveth : it is a weak greediness in us to affect God's blessings by unlawful means ; what a proof and praise had it been of her faith, if she had staid God's leisure, and would ra- ther have endured her barrenness than her husband's polygamy ! Now she shews herself the daughter of Laban; the father for covet- ousness, the daughters for emulation, have drawn sin into Jacob's bed : he offended in yielding, but they more in soliciting him, and therefore the fact is not imputed to Jacob, but to them. In those sins which Satan draws us into, the blame is ours ; in those which we move each other unto, the most fault and punishment lies upon the tempter. None of the patriarchs d ivided his seed into so many wombs as Jacob ; none was so much crossed in his seed.
Thus, rich in nothing but wives and children, was he now re- turning to his father's house, accounting his charge his wealth
OF. JACOB AND LABAN". 45
But God meant him yet more good. Laban sees that both his fa- mily and his flocks were well increased by Jacob's service. Not his love therefore but his gain mak-S him loth to part. Even Laban's eovetousness is made by God the means to enrich Jacob.
Behold, his strait master entreats him to that recompence, which made his nephew mighty, and himself envious : God, considering his hard service, paid him wages out of Laban's folds. Those flocks and herds had but few spotted sheep and goats, untU Jacob's covenant; then, as if the. fashion had been altered, they all ran into party-colours ; the most and best, as if they had been weary of their former owner, changed the colours of their young, that they might change their master.
In the very shapes and colours of brute creatures there is a di- vine hand, which disposeth them to his own ends. Small and un- likely means shall prevail, where God intends an effect. Little
Jeeled sticks of ha^el or poplar laid in the troughs, shall enrich acob with an increase of his spotted flocks ; Laban's sons might have tried the same means and failed : God would have Laban know, that he put a difference betwixt Jacob and him ; that as for fourteen years he fiad multiplied Jacob's charge of cattle to Laban, so now for the last six years he would multiply Laban's flock to Jacob : and if Laban had the more, yet the better were Jacob's : even in these outward things, God's children have many times sen, sible tastes of his favours above the wicked.
I know not whether Laban were a worse uncle, or father, or master: he can like well Jacob's service, not his wealth. As the wicked have no peace with God, so the godly have no peace with men ; for if they prosper not, they are despised ; if they prosper, they are envied.
This uncle, whom his service had made his father, must now upon his wealth be fled from as an enemy, and like an enemy pur- sues him : if Laban had meant to have taken a peaceable leave, he had never spent seven days' journey in following his innocent son: Jacob knew his churlishness, and, therefore, resolved rather to be unmannerly than injured ; well might he think, that he, whose op- pression changed his wages so often in his stav, would also abridge his wages in the parting ; now, therefore, he wisely prefers his own estate to Laban's love : it is not good to regard too much the un- just discontentment of worldly men, and to purchase unprofitable favour with too great loss.
Behold : Laban follows Jacob with one troop, Esau meets him with another, both with hostile intentions ; both go on till the ut- most point of their execution; both are prevented ere the execu- tion. God make.; fools of the enemies of his Church ; heletstherrt proceed, that they may be frustrated, and when they are gone to the utmost reach of their tether, he pulls them back to their task with shame. Lo now, Laban leaves Jacob with a kiss ; Esau meets him with a kiss : of the one he hath an oath, tears of the other, peace with botli : who shall need to fear man that is in league with God }.
But what a wonder is this ! Jacob received not so much hurt
♦ 4 CONTEMPLATIONS.
from all his enemies, as from his best friend. Not one of his hairs perished by Laban or Esau ; yet he lost a joint bv the angel, and was seat halting to his grave : he,ahat knows our strength, yet will wrestle with us for our exercise, and loves our violence and impor- tunity.
O happy loss of Jacob ! he lost a joint, and won a blessing : it is a favour to halt from God, yet this favour is seconded with a greater. He is blessed, because he would rather halt, than leave ere he. was blessed. If he had left sooner, he had not halted, but he had not prospered. That man shall go away sound but misera- ble, that loves a limb more than a blessing. Surely if Jacob had not wrestled with God, he had been foiled with evils : How many are the troubles of the righteous /
Not long after, Rachel, the comfort of his life, dieth ; and when, but in her travail, and in his travel to his father ! wiien he had now before digested in his thoughts the jov and gratulation of his aged father, for so welcome a burden ! His children, the staff of his age, wound his soul to the death : Reuben proves inces- tuous; Judah, adulterous; Dinah, ravished; Simeon and Levi, murderous; Erand Onan, stricken dead ; Joseph, lost; Simeon, imprisoned ; Benjamin, the death of his mother, the father's right- hand, endangered ; himself driven by famine in his old age to die amongst the Egyptians, a people that held it abomination to eat with him. If that angel, with whom he strove, and who therefore strove for him, had not delivered his soul out of all adversity, he had been supplanted with evils, and had been so far from gaining the nams of Israel, that he had lost the name of Jacob : now what son of Israel can hope for good days, when he hears his father's were so evil? It is enough for us, if, when we are dead, we can rest with him in the land of promise. If the angel of the Covenant once bless us, no pain, no sorrows can make us miserable.
Gen, jcxity xxxy xxxi, xxxii, xxxiii.
OF DINAH.
I find but one only daughter of Jacob, who must needs there- fore be a great darling to her father ; and she so miscarries, that she causes her father's grief to be more than his love. As her mo- ther Leah, so she hath a fault in her eyes, which was curiosity : she will needs see, and be seen ; and while she cloth vainly see, she is seen lustfully. It is not enough for us to look to our own thoughts, except we beware of the provocations of others : if we once wander out of the lists that God hath set us in our callings, there is nothing but danger : her virginity had been safe, if she had kept home ; or if Shechem had forced her in her mother's tent, this loss of her virginity had been without her sin ; now she is not in- nocent that gave the occasion.
Her eyes were guilty of the temptation ; only to see, is an in- sufficient warrant to draw us into places of spi ritual hazard : if Shechem
OF DINAH. 45
had seen her busy at home, his love had been free from outrage ; now the lightness of her presence gave encouragement to his inor- dinate desires. Immodesty of behaviour makes way to lust, and gives life unto wicked hopes ; yet Shechem bewrays a good nature even in filthiness ; he loves Dinah after his sin, and will needs marry her whom lie had defiled. Commonly lust ends in loathing ; Amnon abhors Taniar as much after his act, as before tie loved her ; and beat her out of doors, whom he was sick to bring in. But Shechem would not let Dinah fare the worse for his sin. And now he goes about to entertain her with honest love, whom the rage of his lust bad dishonestly abused. Her deflouring shall be no preju- dice to her, since her shame shall redound to none but him, and he will bide her dishonour with the name of a husband. What could he now do, but sue to his father, to hers, to herself, to her brethren; intreating that with humble submission, which he might have ob- tained bv violence ? Those actions, which are ill begun, can hardlv be salved up with late satisfactions ; whereas, good entrances give strength unto the proceedings, and success to the end.
The. young man's father doth not only consent, but solicit ; and is ready to purchase a daughter either with substance, or pain : the two old men would have ended the matter peaceably ; but youth common!}- undertakes rashlv, and performs with passion. The sons of Jacob think of nothing but revenge, and, which is worst of all, begin their cruelty with craft, and hide their craft with reli- gion : a smiling malice is most deadly ; and hatred doth most rankle the heart, when it is kept in and dissembled. We cannot give our sister to an uncircumcised man ; here was God in the mouth, and Satan in the heart : the bloodiest of all projects have ever wont to be coloured with religion ; because the worse any thing is, the bet- ter shew it desires to make : and contrarily, the better colour is put upon any vice, the more odious it is ; for as every simulation adds to an evil, so the best adds most evil. Themselves had taken the daughters and sisters of uncircumcised men ; yea Jacob himself did so ; why might not an uncircumcised man obtain their sister ? Or if there be a difference of giving and taking, it had been well, if it had not been only pretended. It had been a happy ravish- ment of Dinah, that should have drawn a whole country into the bosom of the Church ; but here was a sacrament intended, not to the good of the soul, but to murder of the body: it was a hard task for Hamor and Shechem, not only to put the knife to their own foreskins, but to persuade a multitude to so painful a condition.
The sons of Jacob dissemble with them ; they, with the people : shall not their jlocks and substance be ovtrs ? Common profit is pre- tended, whereas only Shechem' s pleasure is meant. No motive is so powerful to the vulgar sort, as the name of commodity : the hope of this, makes them prodigal of their skin and blood ; not the love to the sacrament, not the love to Shechem: sinister respects draw more to the profession of religion, than conscience : if it were not for the loaves and fishes, the train of Christ would be less. But
45
CONTEMPLATIONS.
the sacraments of God mis-received, never prosper in the end. These men are content to smart, so they may gain.
And now that every man lies sore of his own wound, Simeon and Levi rush in armed, and wound all the males to death : Cursed be their wrath, for it was fierce ; and their rage, for it was cruel. Indeed, filthiness should not have been wrought in Israel ; yet mur- der should not have been wrought by Israel. If they had been fit judges, which were but bloody executioners, how far doth the pu- nishment exceed the fault ! To punish above the offence, is no less injustice, than to offend : one offendeth and all feel the revenge ; yea all, though innocent, suffer that revenge, which he that offend- ed deserved not. Shechem sinneth, but Dinah tempted him : she, that was so light, as to wander abroad alone, only to gaze, I fear was not over difficult to yield : and if, having Avrought her shame, he had driven her home with disgrace to her father's tent, such ty- rannous lust had justly called for blood; but now he craves, and offers, and would pay dear for but leave to give satisfaction.
To execute rigour upon a submissive offender, is more merciless than just ; or if the punishment had been both just and proportion- able from another, yet from them which had vowed peace and affi- nity, it Avas shamefully unjust. To disappoint the trust of ano- ther, and to neglect our own promise and fidelity for private pur- poses, adds faithlessness unto our cruelty. That they were impo- tent, it was through their circumcision : what impiety was this ; in- stead of honouring a holy sign, to take an advantage by it!
What shrieking was there now in the streets of the city of the Hivites ! And how did the beguiled Shechemites, when they saw the swords of the two brethren, die, cursing the sacrament in their hearts, which had betrayed them ! Even their curses were the sins of Simeon and Levi ; whose fact, though it were abhorred by their father, yet it was seconded by their brethren. Their spoil makes good the others' slaughter. Who would have looked to have found this outrage in the family of Jacob ? How did that good patriarch, when he saw Dinah come home blubbered and wringing her hands, Simeon and Levi sprinkled with blood, wish that Leah had been barren as long as Rachel ! Good parents have grief (though they sustain no blame) for their children's sins. What great evils arise from small beginnings ! The idle curiosity of Dinah hath bred all this mischief ; ravishment follows upon her wandering ; upon her ravishment, murder; upon the murder, spoil : it is holy and safe to be jealous of the first occasions of evil, either done or suffered.
Gen. xxxiv.
OF JUDAH AND TAMAR.
I find not many of Jacob's sons more faulty than Judah ; \t1k> yet is singled out from all the rest to be the royal progenitor of Christ, and to be honoured with the dignity of the birthright, that God's election might not be of merit, but of grace; else, howso-
OF JUOAH AND TAMA?.. 4?
ever iie might have sped alone, Tamar had never been joined with him m this line. Even Judah marries a Canaanite ; it is no marvel, though his seed prosper not : and yet, that good children may not be too much discouraged with their unlawful propagation, the fa- thers of the promised seed are raised from an incestuous bed.
Judah was very young, scarce from under the rod of his father, yet takes no other counsel for his marriage, but from his own eyes, which were like his sister Dinah's, roving and wanton : what better issue could be expected from such beginnings ? Those proud Jews, that glorv so much of their pedigree and name from this patriarch, may now choose whether they will have their mother a Canaanite, or a harlot.
Even in these things oft-times the birth follows the belly. His eldest son Er, is too wicked to live ; God strikes him dead ere he can leave any issue, not abiding any scions to grow out of so bad a stock : notorious sinners God reserves to his own vengeance. He doth not inrlict sensible judgments upon all his enemies, lest the wicked should think there were no punishment abiding for them elsewhere : he doth inflict such judgments upon some, lest he should seem careless of evil. It were as easy for him to strike all dead, as one ; but he would rather all should be warned by one, and would have his enemies find him merciful, as well as his chil- dren, just.
His brother Onan sees the judgment, and yet follows his sins. Every little thing discourages us from good ; nothing can alter the heart that is set upon evil. Er was not worthy of any love ; but though lie were a miscreant, yet he was a brother. Seed should have been raised to him; Onan justly leases his life witli his seed, which he would rather spill, than lend to a wicked brother. Some duties we owe to humanity, more to nearness of blood. Ill de- serving of others can be no excuse for our injustice, for our uncha- ritableness. That which Tamar required, Moses afterward, as from God, commanded ; the succession of brothers into the burren bed : some laws God spake to his Church, long ere he wrote them : while the author is certainly known, the voice and the finger of God are worthy of equal respect.
Judah hath lost two sonj, and now doth but promise the third, whom he sins in not giving. It is the weakness of nature, rather to hazard a sin than a danger ; and to neglect our own duty, for wrongful suspicion of others : though he had lost his son in giv- ing him, yet he should have giv en him : a faithful man's promise, is his debt, which no fear of damage can dispense with.
But whereupon was this slackness ? Judah feared that some tm- happiness in the bed of Tamar was the cause of his son's miscar- riage ; whereas it was their fault, that Tamar was both a widow and childless. Those, that are but the patients of evil, are many times burdened with suspicions ; and therefore are ill thought of, because they fare ill : arflictions would not be so heavy, n they did not lay us open unto uncharitable conceits.
What difference God puts betwixt sins of wilfulness and in fir-
43
CONTEMPLATIONS.
mity ! The son's pollution is punished with present death ; the fa- ther's ineest is pardoned, and in a sort prospercth.
Now Tainar seeks by subtlety, that which she could not have by award of justice : the neglect of due retributions drives men to indirect courses ; neither know I whether they sin more in righting themselves wrongfully, or the other in not righting them. She there- fore takes upon her the habit of a harlot, that she might perform the act : if she had not wished to seem a whore, she had not worn that attire, nor chosen that place. Immodesty of outward fashion or gesture bewrays evil desires : the heart, that means well, will never wish to seem ill ; for commonly we affect to shew better than Ave are. Many harlots will put on the semblances of chastity , of modesty ; never the contrary. It is no trusting those, who do not wish to appear good. Judah esteems her by her habit : and now the sight of a harlot hath stirred up in him a thought of lust ; Satan finds well, that a fit object is half a victory.
Who would not be ashamed, to see a son of Jacob thus trans- ported with filthy affections ! At the first sight he is inflamed ; neither yet did he see the face of her, whom he lusted after : it was enough motive to him that she was a woman ; neither could the presence of his neighbour, the Adullamite, compose those wicked thoughts, or hinder his unchaste acts.
That sin must needs be impudent which can abide a witness ; yea, so hath his iust besotted him, that he cannot discern the voice of Tamar, that he cannot foresee the danger of his shame in parting with such pledges. There is no passion which doth not ior the time bereave a man of himself.
Tamar had learned not to trust him without a pawn : he had promised his son to her as a daughter, and failed ; now he pro- mised a kid to her, as a harlot, and performeth it : whether his pledge constrained him, or the power of his word, I inquire not: many are faithful in all things, save those which are the greatest and dearest : if his credit had been as much endangered in the former promise, he had kept it. Now hath Tamar requited him. She expected long the enjoying of his promised son, and he per- formed not ; but here he perforins the promise of the kid, and she stavs not to expect it. Judah is sorry that he Cannot pay the hire of his lust, and now feareth lest he shall be beaten with his own staff; lest f lis signet shall be used to confirm and seal his re- proach ; resolving not to know them, and wishing they were un- ' known of others. Shame is the easiest wages of sin, and the surest, which ever begins first in ourselves. Nature is not more forward to commit sin, than willing to hide it.
I hear as yet' of no remorse in Judah, but fear of shame. Three months hath his sin slept, and now, when he is securest, it awakes and baits him. News is brought him, that Tamar begins to swell with her conception ; and now he swells with rage, and calls her forth to the flame like a rigorous judge, without so much as stay- ing fur the time of her deliverance, that his cruelty in this justice should bfj no less ill than the injustice of occasioning it. If Judah
OF JOSEPH.
49
had not forgotten his sin, his pity had been more than his hatred to this of his daughter's : How easy is it to detest those sins in others, which we Matter in ourselves ! Tamar doth not deny the sin, nor refuse punishment, but calls for that partner in her punish- ment, which was her partner in the sin : the staff, the signet, the handkerchief, accuse and convince Judah ; and now he blushes at his own sentence, much more at his act, and cries out, She is more righteous than I. God will find a time to bring his children upon their knees, and to wring from them penitent confessions ; and rather than he will not have them soundly ashamed, lie will make them the trumpets of their own reproach.
Yet doth he not offer himself to the flame with her, but rather excuses her by himself. This relenting in his own case shamed his former zeal: even in the best men nature is partial to itself: it is good so to sentence others' frailties, that yet we remember our own ; whether those that have been, or may be : with what shame, yea, with what horror, must Judah needs look upon the great belly of Tamar ; and on her two sons, the monuments of his filthiness !
How must it needs wound his soul, to hear them call him both father and grandfather ; to call her mother and sister ! If this had not cost him many a sigh, he had no more escaped his father's curse than Reuben did : I see the difference not of sins, but of men : remission goes not by the measure of the sin, but the qua- lity of the sinner; yea, rather the mercy of the forgiver: Blessed is the man (not that sins not, but) to whom the Lord imputes not his sin. Gen. xxxviii,
OF JOSEPH.
I marvel not that Joseph had the double portion of Jacob's land, who had more than two parts of his sorrows : none of his sons did so truly inherit his afflictions ; none of them was either so miserable, or so great: suffering is the way to glory.
I see in him not a clearer type of Christ, than of every Christian ; because we are dear to our father, and complain of sins, therefore are we hated of our carnal brethren : if Joseph had not meddled with his brothers' faults, yet he had been envied for his father's affection ; but now malice is met with envy : there is nothing more thankless or dangerous than to stand in the way of a resolute sin- ner. That, which doth correct and oblige the penitent, makes the wilful mind furious and revengeful.
All the spite of his brethren cannot make Joseph cast off the livery of his father's love : what need we care for the censures of men, if our hearts can tell us that we are in favour with God ?
But what meant young Joseph, to add unto his own envy, by reporting his dreams ? The concealment of our hopes or abilities hath not more modesty than safety : he, that was envied for his dearness, and hated for his intelligence, was botli envied and hated tor his dreams. Surely God meant to make the relation of these dreams a means to effect that, which the dreams imported. Wc
VOL. I. E
SO CONTEMPLATIONS.
men work by likely means ; God, by contraries. The main quar- rel was, Behold, this dreamer comzth Had it not been for his dreams, he had not been sold ; if he had not been sold, he had not been exalted. So Joseph's state had not deserved envy, if his dreams had not caused him to be envied.
Full little did Joseph think, when he went to seek his brethren, that this was the last time he should see his father's house : full little did his brethren think, when they sokl him naked to the Lh- maelites, to have once seen him in the thror.e of Egypt. God's decree runs on ; and, while we either think not of it or oppose it, is performed.
In an honest and obedient simplicity, Joseph comes to inquire of his brethren's health, and now may not return to carry news of his own misery : while he thinks of their welfare, they are plotting bis destruction ; Come, let us slaij kim. Who would have expected this cruelty in them, which should be the fathers of God's Church? It was thought a favour, that Reuben's entreaty obtained for him, that he might be cast into the pit alive, to die there. Fie looked for brethren ; and behold, murderers ; every man's tongue, every man's fist, was bent against him : each one strives who shall lay the first hand upon that changeable coat, which was dyed with their father's love and their envy ; and now they have stripped him naked, and haling him bv both arms, as it were, cast him alive into his grave. So, in pretence of forbearance, they resolve to torment him with a lingering death: the savagest robbers could not have been more merciless ; for now besides, what in them lies, they kill their father in their brother. Nature, if it once degene- rate, grows more monstrous and extreme than a disposition born to cruelty.
All this while Joseph wanted neither words nor tears; but, like a passionate suppliant, bowing his bare knees to them whom he dreamed should bow to him, intreats and persuades, by the dear name of their brotherhood, by their profession of one common God, for their father's sake, for their own souls' sake, not to sin against his blood. But envy hath shut out mercy, and makes them not only forget themselves to be brethren, but men. What stranger can think of poor innocent Joseph, crying naked in that desolate and dry pit (only saving that he moistened it with tears), and not be moved ? Yet his hard-hearted brethren sit them down care- lessly, with the noise of his lamentation in their ears, to eat bread ; not once thinking, by their own hunger, what it was for Joseph to be famished to death.
Whatsoever they thought, God never meant that Joseph should perish in that pit ; and therefore he sends very Ishmaelites, to ran- som him from his brethren : the seed of him that persecuted his brother Isaac shall now redeem Joseph from his brethren's perse- cution.
When they came to fetch him out of the pit, he now hoped for a speedy dispatch ; that since they seemed not to have so much mercy as to prolong his life, they would not continue so much cru-
OF JOSEPH.
51
elty as to prolong his death. And now, when he hath comforted himself with hope of the favour of dying-, behold, death exchanged for bondage : how much is servitude, to an ingenuous nature, worse than death ! For, this is common to all ; that, to none but the miserable. Judah meant this well, but God better : Reuben saved him from the sword, Judah from famishing : God will ever raise up some secret favourers to his own, amongst those that are most malicious.
How well was this favour bestowed ! If Joseph had died for hun- ger in the pit, both Jacob and Judah and all his brethren had died for hunger in Canaan. Little did the Ishmaelitish merchants know what a treasure they bought, carried, and sold ; more precious than all their balms and myrrhs. Little did they think that they had in their hands the lord of Egypt, the jewel of the world. Why should we contemn any man's meanness, when we know not his destiny ?
One sin is commonly used for the veil of another : Joseph's coat is sent home dipped in blood, that, while they should hide their own cruelty, they might afflict their father, no less than their bro- ther. They have devised this real lie, to punish their old father, for his love, with so grievous a monument of his sorrow.
He, that is mourned for in Canaan, as dead, prospers in Egypt under Potiphar ; and, of a slave, is made ruler. Thus God meant to prepare him for a greater charge ; he must first rule Potipiiar's house, then Pharaoh's kingdom: his own service is his least good, for his very presence procures a common blessing : a whole family shall fare the better for one Joseph.
Virtue is not looked upon alike with all eyes : his fellows praise him, his master trusts him, his mistress affects him too much. All the spite of his brethren was not so great a cross to him, as the in- ordinate affection of his mistress. Temptations on the right hand are now more perilous and hard to resist, by how much they are more plausible and glorious ; but the heart that is bent upon God knows how to walk steadily and indifferently, betwixt the pleasures of sin and fears of evil, fie saw this pleasure would advance hint ; he knew what it was to be a minion of one of the greatest ladies in Egypt; yet resolves to contemn : a good heart will rather lie in the dust, than rise by wickedness. How shall I do this, and sin against God ?
He knew that all the honours of Egypt could not buy off the guilt of one sin, and therefore abhors not only her bed, but her company: he, that will be safe from the acts of evil, must wisely avoid the occasions. As sin ends ever in shame, when it is com- mitted, so it makes us past shame, that we may commit it: the impudent strumpet dare not only solicit, but importune, and in a sort force the modesty of her good servant ; she lays hold on his garment ; her hand seconds her tongue.
Good Joseph found it now time to fly, when such an enemy pursued him: how much would he rather leave his cloke than his virtue ! and to suffer his mistress to spoil him of his livery, rather
52 CONTEMPLATIONS.
than he should blemish her honour, or his master's in her, or God in either of them !
This second time is Joseph stripped of his garment ; before in the violence of envy, now of lust; before of necessity, now of choice ; before to deceive his father, now his master : for behold, the pledge of his fidelity, which he left in those wicked hands, is made an evidence against him, of that which he refused to do ; therefore did he leave his cloke because he would not do that, of which he is accused and condemned because he left it : what safety is there against great adversaries, when even arguments of innocence are used to convince of evil ? Lust yielded unto is a pleasant madness, but is a desperate madness when it is opposed : no hatred burns so furiously as that, which arises from the quenched coals of love. ,
Malice is witty to devise accusations of others, out of their virtue and our own guiltiness. Joseph either pleads not, or is not heard. Doubtless he denied the fact, but he dare not accuse the offender : there is not only the praise of patience, but oft-times of wisdom, even in unjust sufferings : he knew that God would find a time to clear his innocence, and to regard his chaste faithfulness.
No prison would serve him, but Pharaoh's. Joseph had lain "obscure and not been known to Pharaoh, if he had not been cast into Pharaoh's dungeon : the afflictions of God's children turn ever to their advantage. No sooner is Joseph a prisoner, than a guar- dian of the prisoners. Trust and honour accompany him where- soever he is. In his father's house, in Potiphar's, in the gaol, in the court ; still he hath both favour and rule.
So long as God is witli him, he cannot but shine in spite of men : the walls of that dungeon cannot hide his virtues ; the iron cannot hold them. Pharaoh's officers are sent to witness his graces, which he may not come forth to shew ; the cupbearer admires him in the gaol, but forgets him in the court. How easily doth our own prosperity make us either forget the deservings or miseries of others !
But as God cannot neglect his own, so least of all in their sor- rows. After two years more of Joseph's patience, that God, which caused him to be lifted out of the former pit to be sold, now calls him out of the dungeon to honour. He now puts a dream into the head of Pharaoh : he puts the remembrance of Joseph's skill into the head of the cupbearer ; who, to pleasure Pharaoh, not to re- quite Joseph, commends the prisoner, for an interpreter : he puts an interpretation in the mouth of Joseph : he puts this choice into the heart of Pharaoh, of a miserable prisoner, to make him the ruler of Egypt. Behold : one hour hath changed his fetters into a. chain of gold, his rags into fine linen, his stocks into a chariot, his gaol into a palace, Potiphar's captive into his master's lord, the noise of his chains into Bow the knee. He, whose chastity refused the wanton allurements of the wife of Potiphar, had now given him to his wife the daughter of Potipherah. Humility goes before ho- nour j serving and suffering are the best tutors to government.
OF JOSEPH.
53
How well are God's children paid for their patience ! How happy are the issues of the faithful ! Never any man repented him of the advancement of a good man.
Pharaoh had not more prefered Joseph, than Joseph had en- riched Pharaoh ; if Joseph had not ruled, Egypt and all the border- ing nations had perished. The providence of so faithful an officer hath both given the Egyptians their lives; and the money, cattle, lands, bodies of the Egvptians to Pharaoh. Both have reason to be well pleased. The subjects owe to him theirlives ; the king, his subjects and his dominions : the bounty of God made Joseph able to give more than he received.
It is like the seven years of plenty were not confined to Egypt ; other countries adjoining were no less fruitful ; yet in the seven years of famine, Egypt had corn when they wanted. See the difference betwixt a wise prudent frugality, and a vain igno- rant expence of the benefits of God : the sparing hand is both full and beneficial ; whereas the lavish is not only empty, but in- jurious.
Good Jacob is pinched with the common famine. No piety can exempt us from the evils of neighbourhood. No man can tell by outward event, which is the Patriarch and which the Canaanite. Neither doth his profession lead him to the hope of a miraculous preservation. It is a vain tempting of God, to cast ourselves upon an immediate provision, with neglect of common means. His ten sons must now leave their flocks, and go down into Egypt, to be their father's purveyors.
And now they go to buy of him whom they had sold ; and bow their knees to him for his relief, who had bowed to them before for his own life. His age, his habit, the place, the language, kept Joseph from their knowledge ; neither had they called off their minds from their folds, to inquire of matters of foreign state, or to hear that a Hebrew was advanced to the highest honour of Egypt. But he cannot but know them, whom he left at their full growth, whose tongue, and habit, and number were all one ; whose faces had left so deep an impression in his mind, at their unkind parting : it is wisdom sometimes to conceal our knowledge, that we may not prejudice truth.
He, that was hated of his brethren, for being his father's spy, now accuses his brethren, for common spies of the weakness of Egypt : he could not without their suspicion have come to a perfect intelligence of his father's estate and theirs, if he had not objected to them that which was not. We are always bound to go the near- est way to truth. It is more safe in cases of inquisition, to fetch far about : that he might seem enough an Egyptian, he swears hea- thcnishly : how little could they suspect, this oath could proceed from the son of him, which swore by the fear of his father Isaac ! How oft have sinister respects drawn weak goodness, to disg uise it- self even with sins !
It was no small joy to Joseph, to see this late accomplishment of his ancient dream ; to seethe suppliants (I know not whether more
5* CONTEMPLATIONS.
brethren, or enemies) grovelling before him in an unknown submis- sion : and now it doth him good to seem merciless to them, whom he had round wilfully cruel ; to hide his love from them, which had shewed their hate to him ; and to think how much he favoureth them, and how little they know it : and, as sporting himself in their seeming misery, he pleasantly imitates all those actions reciprocal- ly unto them, which they in despight and earnest had done former- ly to him ; he speaks roughly, rejects their persuasions, puts them in hold, and one of them in bonds. The mind must not always be judged by the outward face of the actions. God's countenance is oft-times as severe, and his hand as heavy, to them whom he best loverh. Many a one, under the habit of an Egyptian, hath the heart of an Israelite. No song could be so delightful to him, as to hear them in a late remorse condemn themselves before him, of their old cruelty towards him, who was now their unknown witness and judge.
Nothing doth so powerfully call home the conscience, as afflic- tion ; neither need there any other art of memory for sin, besides misery. They had heard Joseph's deprecation of their evil with tears, and had not pitied him ; yet Joseph doth but hear their men- tion of this evil which they had done against him, and pities them with tears : he weeps for joy to see their repentance, and to com- pare his safety and happiness with the cruelty which they intend- ed, and did, and thought they had done.
Yet he can abide to see his brother his prisoner, whom no bonds could bind so strong, as his affection bound him to his captive : Si- meon is left in pawn, in fetters ; the rest return with their corn, with their money, paying nothing for their provision, but their labour ; that they might be as much troubled with the beneficence of that strange Egyptian lord, as before with his imperioussuspicion. Their wealth was now more irksome to them, than their need ; and they fear, God means to punish them more in this superfluity of money than in the want of victuals, What is this, that God hath done to us ? It is a wise course to be jealous of our gain, and more to fear than desire abundance.
Old Jacob, that was not used to simple and absolute content- ments, receives the blessing of seasonable provision, together with the affliction of that heavy message, the loss of one son and the danger of another ; and knows not whether it be better for him to die with hunger, or with grief for the departure of that son of his right hand. He drives off all to the last : protraction is a kind of ease in evils that must come.
At length, as no plea is so importunate as that of famine, Ben- jamin must go : one evil must be hazarded for the redress of ano- ther : what would it avail him, to see whom he loved, miserable? How injurious were that affection to keep his son so long in his eye, till they should see each other die for hunger !
The ten brothers return into Egypt, loaded with double money in their sacks, and a present in their hands : the danger of mistak- ing is requited, by honest minds, with more than restitution. It is
OF JOSEPH.
55
not enough to find our own hearts clear in suspicious actions, ex- cept we satisfy others.
Now hath Joseph what he would, the sight and presence of his Benjamin ; whom he therefore borrows of his father for a time, that he might return him with a greater interest of joy. And now he feasts them whom he formerly threatened, and turns their fear into wonder : all unequal love is not partial ; all the brethren are entertained bountifully, but Benjamin hath a five-fold portion : by how much his welcome was greater, by so much his pretended theft seemed more heinous ; for good turns aggravate unkindnesses, and our offences are increased with our obligations.
How easy is it to find advantages, where there is a purpose to ac- cuse ! Benjamin's sack makes him guilty of that, whereof his heart was free: crimes seem strange to the innocent : well might they abjure this fact, with the offer of bondage and death ; for they, which carefully brought again that which they might have taken, would never take that which was not given them. But thus Joseph would yet dally with his brethren ; and make Benjamin a thief, that he might make him a servant ; and fright his brethren #itb the peril of that their charge, that he might double their joy and amaze- ment, in giving them two brothers at once : our happiness is greater, and sweeter, when we have well feared, and smarted with evils.
But now, when Judah seriously reported the danger of his old fa- ther and the sadness of his last complaint, compassion and joy will be concealed no longer, but break forth violently at his voice and eyes. Many passions do not well abide witnesses, because they are guilty to their own weakness. Joseph sends forth his servants, that he might freely weep. He knew he could not say, / am Josephy without an unbeseeming vehemence.
Never any word sounded so strangely as this, in the ears of the patriarchs. Wonder, doubt, reverence, joy, fear, hope, guiltiness, struck them at once. It was time for Joseph to say, Fear not : no marvel if they stood with paleness and silence before him ; looking on him, and on each other : the more they considered, they won- dered more ; and the more they believed, the more they feared : for those words, / am Joseph, seemed to sound thus much to their guilty thoughts ; " You are murdera's, and lam a prince in spite of you : my power and this place give me all opportunities of re- venge ; my glory is your shame, my life your danger ; your sin lives together with me."
But now the tears and gracious words of Joseph have soon as- sured them of pardon and love, and have bidden them turn their eyes from their sin against their brother to their happiness in him, and have changed their doubts into hopes and joys ; causing them to look upon him without fear, though not without shame. His loving embracemcnts clear their hearts of all jealousies, and hasten to put new thoughts into them of favour and of greatness ; so that now, forgetting what evil they did to their brother, they are think- ing of what good their brother may do to them. Actions salved up
56 CONTEMPLATIONS.
with a free forgiveness are as not done; and, as a bone once broken is stronger after well setting, so is love after reconcilement.
But, as wounds once healed leave a scar behind them, so remitted injuries leave commonly in the actors a guilty remembrance ; which hindered these brethren from that freedom of joy, which else they had conceived : this was their fault, not Joseph's ; who strives to give them all security of his love, and will be as bountiful as they are cruel ; they send him naked to strangers, he sends them in new and rich liveries to their father ; they took a small sum of money for him, he gives them great treasures ; they sent his torn coat to his father, he sends variety of costly raiments to his father by them; they sold him to be the load of camels, he sends them home with chariots.
It must be a great favour that can appease the conscience of a great injury. Now they return home rich and joyful, making themselves happy to think how glad they should make their father with this news.
That good old man would never have hoped, that Egypt could have afforded such provision as this ; Joseph is yet alive : this was not food, but life to him. The return of Benjamin was comforta- ble ; but that his dead son was yet alive, after so many years' la- mentation, was tidings too happy to be believed, and was enough to endanger that life with excess of joy, which the knowledge thereof doubled. Over-excellent objects are dangerous in their sud- den apprehensions. One grain of that joy would have safely cheered him, whereof a full measure over-lays his heart with too much sweetness. There is no earthly pleasure whereof we may not surfeit ; of the spiritual, we can never have enough.
Yet bis eyes revive his mind, which his ears had thus astonished. When he saw the chariots of his son, he believed Joseph's life, and refreshed his own. He had too much before, so that he could not enjoy it ; now he saith, / have enough, Joseph my son is yet alive.
They told him of his honour, he speaks of his life: life is better than honour. To have heard tltat Joseph lived a servant, would have joyed him more, than to hear that he died honourably. The greater blessing obscures the less. He is not worthy of honour, that is not thankful for life.
Yet Joseph's life did not content Jacob without his presence ; / will go down and sec him ere I die : the sight of the eye is better than to walk in desires ; good things pleasure us not in their being, but in our enjoying.
The height of all earthly contentment appeared in the meeting of these two ; whom their mutual loss had more endeared to each other : the intermission of comforts hath this advantage, that it sweetens our delight more in the return, than was abated in the for- bearance. God doth oft-times hide away our Joseph for a time, that we may be more joyous and thankful in his recovery. This was the sincerest pleasure that ever Jacob had, which therefore God reserved for his age.
And if the meeting of earthly friends be so unspeakably com-
OF JOSEPH. 57
fortable, how happy shall we be in the light of the glorious face of God our heavenly Father ! of that our blessed Redeemer whom we sold to death by our sins ; and which now, after that noble triumph, hath all power given him in heaven and earth !
Thus did Jacob rejoice, when he was to go out of the land of promise to a foreign nation for Joseph's sake ; being glad that he should lose his country for his son. What shall our joy be, who must go out of this foreign land of our pilgrimage, to the home of our glorious inheritance, to dwell with none but our own ; in that better and more lightsome Goshen, free from all the incumbrances of this Egypt, and full of all the riches and delights of God !
The guilty conscience can never think itself safe: so many years experience of Joseph's love could not secure his brethren of remis- sion : those, that know they have deserved ill, are wont to misinter- pret favours, and think they cannot be beloved : all that while his goodness seemed but concealed and sleeping malice ; which they feared in their father's last sleep would awake, and betray itself in revenge : still therefore they plead the name of their father, though dead, not daring to use their own. Good meanings cannot be more wronged than with suspicion : it grieves Joseph to see their fear, and to find they had not forgotten their own sin, and to hear them so passionately crave that which they had.
Forghe the trespass of the servants of thy fathers God : What a conjuration of pardon was this ! What wound could be either so deep, or so festered, as this plaster could not cure ! They say not, " the sons of thy father ;" for they knew Jacob was dead, and they had degenerated ; but the servants of thy fathers God : how much stronger are the bonds of religion than of nature ! If Jo- seph had been rancorous, this deprecation had charmed him ; but now it resolves him into tears : they are not so ready to acknow- ledge their old offence, as he to protest his love ; and if he chide them for any thing, it is for that they thought they needed to in- treat ; since they might know, it could not stand with the fellow-ser- vant of their father's God, to harbour maliciousness, to purpose revenge ; Am not I under God ? And, fully to secure them, he turns their eyes from themselves to the decree of God ; from the action to the event ; as one that would have them think, there was no cause to repent of that which proved so successful.
Even late confession finds forgiveness : Joseph had long ago seen their sorrow, never but now heard he their humble acknowledg- ment : mercy stays not for outward solemnities. How much more shall that infinite Goodness pardon our sins, when he finds the truth of our repentance !
Gen. xxxvii, xxxix, xl% xli, xlii, xliii, xliv, xlv.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK IV.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
JAMES, LORD HAY,
ALL GRACE AND HAPPINESS.
RIGHT honourable:
M-LL that I can say for myself, is a desire of doing good; which if it were as fervent in richer hearts, the Church, which ?ww we sec comely, would then be glorious. This honest ambition hath carried me to neglect the fear of seeming prodigal of my little ; and while I see others'1 talents rusting in the earth, hath drawn me to traffic with mine in public. I hope, no adventure, that ever I made of this kind, shall be equally gainful to this my present labour, wherein I take God's own history for the ground, and work upon it by what meditations my weakness can afford : the divineness of this subject shall make more than amends for the manifold defects of my dis- course ; although also the blame of an imperfection is so much the more, when itlighteth upon so high a choice. This part, which I offer to your Lordship, shall shew you Pharaoh impotently envious and cruel ; the Israelites of friends become slaves, punished only for prospering ; Moses in the weeds, in the court, in the desert, in the Hill of Visions ; a courtier in Egypt, a shepherd in Midian, an ambassador from God, a leader [of God's people : and when you see prodigious variety of the plagues of Egypt, you shall not know whe- ther more to wonder at the miracles of Moses, or Pharaoh's obsti- nacy. Finally, you shall see. the same waves made both a wall and a gulf in one hour ; the Egyptians drowned, where no Israelite was wet-shod : and if these passages yield not abundance of profita- ble thoughts, impute it (not without pardon) to the poverty of my weak conceit ; which yet may perhaps occasion better unto others. In all humble submission I commend them (what they are J to your Lordship's favourable acceptation, and yourself with them to the gracious blessing of our God.
Your Lordship's in all dutiful observance at command,
JOSEPH HALL,
THE AFFLICTION OF ISRAEL.
Egypt was long a harbour to the Israelites; now it proves a gaol : the posterity of Jacob finds too late, what it was for their fore- fathers to sell Joseph a slave into Egypt. Those whom the Egyp-
THB AFFLICTION OF ISRAEI,.
59
tians honoured before as lords, now they contemn as drudges : one Pharaoh advances whom another labours to depress : not seldom the same man changes copies ; but if favours out-live one age, they prove decrepit and heartless. It is a rare thing to find posterity heirs of their father's love. How should men's favour be but like themselves, variable and inconstant ? There is no certainty but in the favour of God, in whom can be no change; whose love is entailed upon a thousand generations.
Yet if the Israelites had been treacherous to Pharaoh, if disobe- dient, this great change of countenance had been just ; now the only offence of Israel is, that he prospereth : that, which should be the motive of their gratulation and friendship* is the cause of their malice. There is no more hateful sight to a wicked man, than the prosperity of the conscionable. None but the spirit of that true harbinger of Christ, can teach us to say with contentment, He vuist increase, but I must decrease.
And what if Israel be mighty and rich ? If there be war, they may join with our enemies, and get them out of the land. Be- hold, they are afraid to part with those whom they are grieved to entertain : either staving or going is offence enough to those that seek quarrels. There were no wars, and yet they say, If there be wars : the Israelites had never given cause of fear to revolt, and yet they say, Lest they join to our enemies, to those enemies which we may have ; so they make their certain friends slaves, for fear of uncertain enemies. Wickedness is ever cowardly, and full of un- just suspicions ; it makes a man fear, where no fear is ; fly, when no one pursues him. What difference there is betwixt David and Pharaoh ! the faith of the one says, / will not be afraid for ten thousand that should beset me ; the fear of the other says, Lest if there be war, they join with our enemies ; therefore should he have made much of the Israelites, that they might be his ; his favour might have made them firm ; why may they not as well draw their swords for him ?
Weak and base minds ever incline to the worse ; and seek safety, rather in an impossibility of hurt, than in the likelihood of just ad- vantage. Favours had been more binding than cruelties ; yet the foolish Egyptians will rather have impotent servants, than able friends.
For their welfare alone, Pharaoh owes Israel a mischief; and how will he pay it ? Come, let us work wisely : lewd men call wicked policies wisdom, and their success happiness : herein Satan is wiser than they ; who both lays the plot, and makes them such fools, as to mistake villainy and madness, for the best virtue.
Injustice is upheld by violence, whereas just governments are maintained by love. Task-masters must be set over Israel ; they should not be the true seed of Israel, if they were not still set to wrestle with God in afflictions. Heavy burdens must be laid upon them : Israel is never but loaded ; the destiny of one of Jacob's sons is common to all, to lie down betwixt their burdens. If they had seemed to breathe them in Goshen sometimes, yet even there*
60
CONTEMPLATIONS.
it was no small misery to be foreigners, and to live among Idola- ters ; but now tbe name of a slave is added to the name of a stran- ger. Israel had gathered some rust in idolatrous Egypt, and now he must be scowered : the}- had borne the burden of God's anger, if they had not borne the burdens of the Egyptians.
As God afflicted them with another mind than the Egvptians ; (God to exercise them, the Egyptians to suppress them ;) so causes he the event to differ. Who would not have thought, with these Egyptians, that so extreme misery should not have made the Is- raelites unfit both for generation and resistance ? Moderate ex- ercise strengthens, extreme destroys nature. That God, which many times works by contrary means, caused them to grow with depression ; with persecution to multiply : how can God's Church but fare well, since the very malice of their enemies benefits them ? Oh the sovereign goodness of our God, that turns all our poisons into cordials ! God's vine bears the better with bleeding.
And now the Egyptians could be angrv with their own malicious- ness, that this was the occasion of multiplying them whom they hated and feared ; to see that this service gained more to the work- men, than to their masters : the stronger therefore the Israelites grew, the more impotent grew the malice of their persecutors ; and since their own labour strengthens them, now tyranny will try what can be done by the violence of others : since the present strength cannot be subdued, the hopes of succession must be pre- vented ; women must be suborned to be murderers, and those, whose office is to help the birth, must destroy it.
There was less suspicion of cruelty in that sex, and more op- portunity of doing mischief. The male children must be born, and die at once ; what can be more innocent, than the child that hath not lived so much as to cry, or to see light ? it is faidt enough to be the son of an Israelite. The daughters may live for bondage, for lust ; a condition so much (at the least) worse than death, as their sex was weaker. O marvellous cruelty, that a man should kill a man for his sex's sake 1 Whosoever hath loosed the reins unto cruelty, is easily carried into incredible extremities.
From burdens they proceed to bondage, and from bondage to blood ; from an unjust vexation of their body, to an inhuman de- struction of the fruit of their body. As the sins of the concupis- cible part, from slight motions, grow on to foul executions, so do those of the irascible : there is no sin, whose harbour is more un- safe, than that of malice ; but oft-times the power of tyrants answers not their will : evil commanders cannot always meet with equally mischiev ous agents.
The fear of God teaches the midwives to disobey an unjust com- mand ; they well knew, how no excuse it is for evil, " I was bid- den." God said to their hearts, Thou -shu.lt not kill : this voice was louder than Pharaoh's. I commend their obedience in disobeying ; I dare not commend their excuse : there was as much weakness in their answer, as strength in their practice : as they feared God in not killing, so they feared Pharaoh in dissembling ; oft-times those, that
THE AFFLICTION OF ISRAEL.
61
make conscience of greater sins, are overtaken with less. It is well and rare, if we can come forth of a dangerous action without any foil ; and if we have escaped the storm, that some after-drops wet us not.
Who would not have expected, that the midvvives should be mur- dered, for not murdering ! Pharaoh could not be so simple to think these women trusty ; yet his indignation had no power to reach their punishment. God prospered the midwives, who can harm them ? Even the not doing of evil is rewarded with good. And why did they prosper ? Because they feared God ; not for their dissimulation, but their piety. So did God regard their mer- cy, that he regarded not their infirmity. How fondly do men lay the thank upon the sin, which is due to the virtue. True wisdom teaches to distinguish God's actions, and to ascribe them to the right causes : pardon belongs to the lie of the midwives, and remu- neration to their goodness, prosperity to their fear of God.
But that which the midwives will not, the multitude shall do. It were strange, if wicked rulers should not find some or other instru- ments of violence. All the people must drown whom the women saved. Cruelty had but smoked before, now it flames up ; secret practising hath made it shameless, that now it dare proclaim tyran- ny. It is a miserable state, where every man is made an execu- tioner. There can be no greater argument of an ill cause, than a bloody persecution ; whereas, truth upholds herself by mildness, and is promoted by patience. This is their act, what was their is- sue ? the people must drown their males, themselves are drowned : they died by the same means, by which they caused the poor Is- raelitish infants to die ; that law of retaliation which God will not allow to us, because we are fellow creatures, he justly practiseth in us. God would have us read our sins in our judgments, that we might both repent of our sins and give glory to his justice.
Pharaoh raged before ; much more now, that he received a mes- sage of dismission ; the monitions of God make ill men worse : the waves do not beat nor roar any where so much, as at the bank which restrains them. Corruption, when it is checked, grows mad with rage ; as the vapour in a cloud would not make that fearful report, if it met not with opposition. A good heart yields at the stillest voice of God ; but the most gracious motions of God harden the wicked. Many would not be so desperately settled in their sins, if the word had not controlled them. How mild a mes- sage was this to Pharaoh, and yet how galling ! We pray thee let us go. God commands him that which he feared. He took plea- sure in the present servitude of Israel : God calls for a release. If the suit had been for mitigation of labour, for preservation of their children, it might have carried some hope, and have found some fa- vour : but now God requires that which he knows will as much dis- content Pharaoh, as Pharaoh's cruelty could discontent the Israel- ites ; Let us go. How contrary are God's precepts to natural minds ! and indeed, as thv-y love to cross him in their practice, so he loves to cross them in their commands before, and his punishments
62 CONTEMPLATIONS.
afterwards : it is a dangerous sign of an ill heart, to feel God's yoke heavy.
Moses talks of sacrifice ; Pharaoh talks of work. Any thing seems due work to a carnal mind, saving God's service ; nothing superfluous, but religious duties. Christ tells us, there is but one thing necessary ; nature tells us, there is nothing but that needless. Moses speaks of devotion ; Pharaoh, of idleness. It hath been an old use, as to cast fair colours upon our own vicious actions, so to cast evil aspersions upon the good actions of others. The same devil, that spoke in Pharaoh, speaks still in our scoffers, and calls religion hypocrisj7, conscionable care .singularity. Every vice hath a title, and every virtue a disgrace.
Yet while possible tasks were imposed, there was some comfort : their diligence might save their backs from stripes. The conceit of a benefit to the commander, and hope of impunity to the la- bourer, might give a good pretence to great difficulties ; but to re- quire tasks not feasible, is tyrannical, and doth only pick a quarrel to punish; they could neither make straw, nor find it, yet they must have it. " Do what mav be," is tolerable ; but " Do what cannot be," is cruel. Those which are above others in place must measure their commands, not by their own wills, but by the strength of their inferiors. To require more of a beast than he can do, is inhuman. The task is not done ; the task-masters are beaten : the punishment lies whrre the charge is ; they must exact it of the people, Pharaoh of them. It is the misery of those which are trusted with authority, that their inferiors' faults are beaten upon their backs. This was not the fault, to require it of the task-mas- ters, but to require it by the task-masters of the people. Public persons do either good or ill with a thousand hands, and with no fewer shall receive it. E'xod. L
OF THE BIRTH AND BREEDING OF MOSES.
It is a wonder that Amram, the father of Moses, would think of the marriage bed in so troublesome a time, when he knew he should beget children either to slavery or slaughter ; yet even now, in the heat of this bondage, he marries Jochebed. The drowning of his sons was not so great an evil, as his own burning ; the thraldom of his daughters not so great an evil, as the subjection unto sinful de- sires : he therefore uses God's remedy for his sin, and refers the sequel of his danger to God. How necessary is this imitation, for those which have not the power of containing ! perhaps we would have thought it better to live childless ; but Amram and Jochebed durst not incur the danger of a sin, to avoid the danger of a mis- chief.
No doubt, when Jochebed, theraother of Moses, saw a man-child born of her, and him beautiful and comely, she fell into extreme passion, to think that the executioner's hand should succeed the midwife's. All the time of her conception, she could not but fear a son ; now she sees him, and thinks of his birth and death at once,
OF THE BIRTH AND BREEDING OF MOSES.
63
her second throes are more grievous than her first. The pains of travail in others are somewhat mitigated with hope, and counter- vailed with joy that a man-child was born ; in her, they are dou- bled with fear ; the remedy of others is her complaint : still she looks when some fierce Egyptian would come in, and snatch her new-born infant out of her bosom ; whose comeliness had now also added to her affection.
Many times God writes presages of majesty and honour, even in the faces of children. Little did she think, that she held in her lap the deliverer of Israel. It is good to hazard in greatest appear- ances of danger. If Jochebed had said, " If I bear a son, they will kill him," where had been the great rescuer of Israel ? Happy is that resolution which can follow God hood-winked, and let him dispose of the event. When she can no longer hide him in her womb, she hides him in her house ; afraid lest every of hiscryings should guide the executioners to his cradle.
And now she sees her treasure can be no longer hid, she ships him in a bark of bullrushes, and commits him to the mercy of the waves, and, which was more merciless, to the danger of an Egyp- tian passenger ; yet doth she not leave him without a guardian. No tyranny can forbid her to love him, whom she is forbidden to keep : her daughter's eyes must supply the place of her arms.
And if the weak affection of a mother were thus effectually care- ful, what shall we think of him, whose love, whose compassion, is, as himself, infinite. His eye, his hand, cannot but be with us, even when we forsake ourselves. Moses had never a stronger protec- tion about him, no not when all his Israelites were pitched about his tent in the wilderness, than now when he lay sprawling alone upon the waves : no water, no Egyptian can hurt him. Neither friend nor mother dare own him, and now God challenges his custo- dy. When we seem most neglected and forlorn in ourselves, then is God most present, most vigilant.
His providence brings Pharaoh's daughter thither to wash her- self. Those times looked for no great state : a princess comes to bathe herself in the open stream : she meant only to wash herself ; God fetches her thither, to deliver the deliverer of his people. His designs go beyond ours. We know not, when we set our foot over our threshold, what he hath to do with us. This event seemed ca- sual to this princess, but predetermined and provided by God, be- fore she was : how wisely and sweetly God brings to pass his own purposes, in our ignorance and regardlessness ! She saw the ark, opens it, finds the child weeping ; his beauty and his tears had God provided for the strong persuasions of mercy. This young and lively oratory prevailed. Her heart is struck with compassion, and yet her tongue could say, It is a Hebrew child.
See here the merciful daughter of a cruel father ; it is an uncha- ritable and injurious ground, to judge of the child's disposition by the parents, How well doth pity beseem great personages ! and moj t in extremities. It had been death to another to rescue the child of a Hebrew ; in. her it was safe and noble. It is a happy
64
CONTEMPLATIONS.
thing, when great ones improve their places to so much more cha- rity, as their liberty is more.
Moses's sister, finding the princess compassionate, offers to pro- cure a nurse, and fetches the mother : and who can be so fit a nurse as a mother ? She now with glad hands receives her child, both with authority and reward. She would have given all her substance for the life of her son ; and now she hath a reward to nurse him. The exchange of the name of a mother, for the name of a nurse, hath gained her both her son and his education, and with both a recompcnce. Religion doth not call us to a weak sim- plicity, but allows us as much of the serpent as of the dove : law- ful policies have from God both liberty in the use, and blessing in the success.
The good lady did not breed him as some child of alms, or as some wretched outcast, for whom it might be favour enough to live, but as her own son ; in all the delicacies, in all the learning of Egypt. Whatsoever the court or the school could put into him, he wanted not; yet all this could not make him forget that he was a Hebrew. Education works wondrous changes, and is of great force either way : a little advancement hath so puffed some up above themselves, that they have not only forgot their friends, but scorned their parents. All the honours of Egypt could not win Moses, not to call his nurse, mother, or wean him from a wil- ling misery with the Israelites. If we had Moses's faith, we could not but make his choice. It is only our infidelity that binds us so to the world, and makes us prefer the momentary pleasures of sin, unto that everlasting recompense of reward.
He went forth, and looked on the burdens of Israel. What needed Moses to have afflicted himself with the afflictions of others ? Himself was at ease and pleasure in the court of Pharaoh. A good heart cannot endure to be happy alone ; and must needs, unbidden, share with others in their miseries. He is no true Moses, that is not moved with the calamities of God's Church. To see an Egyptian smite a Hebrew, it smote him, and moved him to smite. He hath no Israelitish blood in him, that can endure to see an Israelite stricken either with hand or with tongue.
Here was his zeal : where was his authority ? Doubtless, Moses had an instinct from God of his magistracy ; else how should he think they would have understood what himself did not ? Oppres- sions may not be righted by violence, but by law. The redress of evil by a person unwarranted, is evil. Moses knew that God had called him ; he knew that Pharaoh knew it not : therefore he hides the Egyptian in the sand. Those actions which may be approved unto God are not always safe with men ; as contrarily, too many things go current with men, which are not approved of God.
Another Hebrew is stricken, but by a Hebrew : the act is the same, the agents differ ; neither doth their profession more differ, than Moses's proceedings. He gives blows to the one ; to the other, words. The blows, to the Egyptian, were deadly ; the words, to the Hebrew, gentle and plausible. As God makes a dif-
OF THE BIRTH AND BREEDING OF MOSES. 65
ference betwixt chastisements of his own, and punishments of strange children ; so must wise governors learn to distinguish of sins and judgments, according to circumstances.
How mildly doth Moses admonish ! Sirs, ye air brethren. If there had been but any drachm of good nature in these Hebrews, they had relented ; now it is strange to see, that, being so univer- sally vexed with the if common adversary, they should yet ve.x one another : one would have thought that a common opposition should have united them more, yet now private grudges do thus dangerously divide them. Blows enough were not dealt by the Egyptians ; their own must add to the violence. Still Satan is thus busv, and Christians are thus malicious, that, as if they wanted enemies, they By in one another's faces. While we are in this Egypt of theworl.l, all unkind strifes would easily be composed, if we did not forget that we are brethren.
Behold an Egyptian in the skin of a Hebrew ! How dogged an answer doth Moses receive to so gentle a reproof ! Who would not have expected, that this Hebrew had been enough dejected with the common affliction ? But vexations may make some more mi- serable, not more humble ; as we see sicknesses make some tracta- ble, others more froward. It is no easy matter to bear a reproof well, if never so well tempered : no sugar can bereave a pill of his bitterness. None but the gracious can say, Let the righteous smite vie. Next to the not deserving a reproof, is the well taking of it. But who is so ready to except and exclaim, as the wrong-doer ? The patient replies not. One injury draws on another ; first to his brother, then to his reprover. Guiltiness will make a man stir upon every touch : he that was wronged could incline to reconci- liation : malice makes men incapable of good counsel ; and there are none so great enemies to justice, as those which are enemies to peace.
With what impatience doth a galled heart receive an admoni- tion ! This unworthy Israelite is the pattern of a stomachful of- fender ; first, he is moved to cholcr in himself ; then, he calls for the authority of the admonisher : a small authority will serve for a loving admonition. It is the duty of men, much more of Chris- tians, to advise against sin ; yet this man asks, Who made thee a judge ? for but finding fault with his injury. Then he aggra- vates, and misconstrues, Wilt thou kill mec? when Moses meant only to save both. It was the death of his malice only that was intended, and the safety of his person. And lastly, he upbraid* him with former actions, Thou killedst the Egyptian : What if he did ? What if unjustly ? What was this to the Hebrew ? Another man's sin is no excuse for ours.
A wicked heart never looks inward to itself, but outward to the quality of the reprover : if that afford exception, it is enough ; a a dog runs first to revenge on the stone. What matter is it to me who he be that admonisheth me ? Let me look home into myself : let me look to his advice. If that be good, it is more shame tome to be reproved by an evil man. As a good man's allowance cannot
F
66 CONTEMPLATIONS.
warrant evil, so an evil man's reproof may remedy evil : if this He- brew had been well pleased, Moses had not heard of his slaughter ; now in choler all will out : and if this man's tongue had not thus cast him in the teeth with blood, he had been surprised by Pharaoh, ere he could have known that the fact was known.
Now he grows jealous, flees, and escapes. No friend is so com- modious in some cases as an adversary. This wound, which the Hebrew thought to give Moses, saved his life. As it is good for a man to have an enemy, so it shall be our wisdom to make use of his most choleric objections. The worst of an enemy may prove most sovereign to ourselves. Moses flees. It is no discomfort for a man to flee, when his conscience pursues him not. Where God's warrant will not protect us, it is good for the heels to supply the place of the tongue.
Moses, when he may not in Egypt, will be doing justice in Midian. In Egypt, he delivers the oppressed Israelite ; in Midian, the wronged daughters of Jethro. A good man will be doing good, wheresoever he is : his trade is a compound of charity and jus- tice ; as therefore evil dispositions cannot be changed with airs, no more will good.
Now then he sits him down by a well in Midian. There he might have to drink, but where to eat he knew not. The case was altered with Moses ; to come from the dainties of the court of Egypt, to the hunger of the fields of Midian : it is a lesson that all God's children must learn to take out, To want and to abound. Who can think strange of penury, when the great governor of God's people once hath nothing ?
Who would not have thought in this case, Moses should have been heartless and sullen ? So cast down with his own complaints, that he should have had no feeling of others ? Yet how hot is he upon justice ! No adversity can make a good man neglect good duties : he sees the oppression of the shepherds, the image of that other he left behind him in Egypt. The maids, daughters of so great a peer, draw water for their flocks ; the inhuman shepherds drive them away : rudeness hath no respect either to sex or con- dition. If we lived not under laws, this were our case : might would be the measure of justice : we should not so much as enjoy our own water.
Unjust courses will not ever prosper : Moses shall rather come from Egypt to Midian to beat the shepherds, than they shall vex the daughters of Jethro.
This act of justice was not better done than taken : Reuel re- quites it kindly with a hospitable entertainment. A good nature is ready to answer courtesies : we cannot do too much for a thank- ful man : and if a courteous heathen reward the watering of a sheep in this bountiful manner, how shall our God recompense but a cup of cold water that is given to a disciple !
This favour hath won Moses ; who now consents to dwell with him, though out of the Church. Curiosity, or whatsoever idle oc- casions, may not draw us, for our residence, out of the bounds of
OF MOSES'S CALLING. .61
the Church of God ; danger of life may : we love not the Church if we easily leave it ; if in a case of life, we leave it not, upon op- portunity, for a time of respite, we love not ourselves.
The rirst part of Moses's requital was his wife ; one of those whom he had formerly protected. I do not so much marvel that Jethro gave him his daughter (for he saw him valiant, wise, learn- ed, nobly bred) as that Moses would take her ; a stranger both in blood and religion. I could plead for him necessity : his own na- tion was shut up to him ; if he would have tried to fetch a daugh- ter of Israel, he had endangered to leave himself behind. I coidd plead some correspondence in common principles of religion ; for doubtless, Moses's zeal could not suffer him to smother the truth in himself: he should have been an unfaithful servant, if he had not been his master's teacher. Yet neither of these can make this match either safe or good. The event bewrays it dangerously in- convenient.
This choice had like to have cost him dear : she stood in his way for circumcision ; God stands in his way for revenge. Though he was now in God's message, yet might he not be forborne in this neglect. No circumstance, either of the dearness of the solicitor or our own engagement, can bear out a sin with Go;I.
Those, which are unequally yoked, may not ever look to draw one way. True love to the person cannot long agree with dislike of the religion. He had need to be more than a man, that hath a Zipporahin his bosom, and would have true zeal in his heart.
All this while Moses's affection was not so tied to Midian, that he could forget Egypt. He was a stranger in Midian : what was he else in Egypt ? Surely, either Egypt was not his home, or a miserable one ; and yet, in reference to it, he calls his son Ger- shom, a stranger there. Much better were it to be a stranger there, than a dweller in Egypt. How hardly can we forget the place of our abode or education, although never so homely ! And if he so thought of his Egyptian home, where was nothing but bondage and tyranny ; how should we think of that home of ours, above, where is nothing but rest and blessedness ! Kxo<]L. ii.
OF MOSES'S CALLING.
Forty years was Moses a courtier; and forty years, after that, a shepherd. That great men may not be ashamed of honest voca- tions, the greatest that ever were have been content to take up with mean trades. The contempt of honest callings in those which are well born, argues pride without wit. How constantly did Moses stick to his hook! and yet a man of great spirits, of excellent learning, of curious education; and if God had not, after his forty years' service, called him off, he had so ended his days. Humble resolutions are so much more heroical, as they fall into higher Sub-« jects. J . °
There can be no fitter disposition for a leader of God's people, than constancy in his undertakings, without either weariness or
68
CONTEMPLATIONS.
change. How had he learned to subdue all ambitious desires, and to rest content with his obscurity ! So he might have the freedom of his thoughts and full opportunity of holy meditations, he wil- lingly leaves the world to others, and envies not his proudest ac- quaintance of the court of Pharaoh. He, that hath true worth in himself and familiarity with God, finds more pleasure in the de- serts of Midian, than others can do in the palaces of kings.
While he is tending his sheep, God appeared unto him : God never graces the idle with his visions : when he finds us in our call- ings, we find him in the tokens of his mercy. Satan appears to the idle man in manifold temptations ; or rather presents himself, and appears not. God was ever with Moses, yet was he not seen till now. He is never absent from his, but sometimes he makes their senses witnesses of his presence.
In small matters may be greater wonders. That a bush should burn, is no marvel ; but that it should not consume in burning, is justly miraculous. God chuseth not ever great subjects wherein to exercise his power. It is enough that his power is great in the smallest.
When I look upon this burning bush with Moses, metHnks I can never see a worthier and more lively emblem of the Church ; that in Egypt was in the furnace, yet wasted not : since then how oft hath it been flaming, never consumed ! The same power, that en- lightens it, preserves it ; and to none but to his enemies, is he a con- suming fire.
Moses was a great philosopher ; but small skill would have serv- ed to know the nature of fire, and of the bush ; that fire meeting with combustible matter, could not but consume : if it had been some solid wood, it would have yielded later to the flames ; but bushes are of so quick dispatch, that the joy of the wicked is com- pared to a fire of thorns. He noted awhile, saw it continued, and began to wonder. It was some marvel how it should come there ; but how it should continue without supply, yea, without diminu- tion of matter, was truly admirable.
Doubtless he went oft about it, and viewed it on all sides ; and now, when his eyes and mind could meet with no likely causes, so far off, resolves, / will go see it : his curiosity led him nearer ; and what could he see but a bush and a flame, which he saw at first un- satisfied ? It is good to come to the place of God's presence, how- soever : God may perhaps speak to thy heart, though thou come but for novelty. Even those which have come upon curiosity have been oft taken : absence is without hope : if Moses had not come, he had not been called out of the bush.
To see a fire not consuming the bush, was much ; but to hear a speaking fire, this was more ; and to hear his own name out of the mouth of the fire, it was most of all. God makes way for his greatest messages by astonishment and admiration ; as, on the con- trary, carelessness carries us to a mere unproficiency under the best means of God. If our hearts were more awful, God's messages would be more effectual to us.
OF MOSES'S CALLING. 69
. In that appearance, God meant to, call Moses to come; yet, when he is come, inhibits him; Come not hither. We must come to God ; must not come too near him. When We meditate of the great mysteries of his word, we come to him ; wc come too near him, when we search into his counsels. The sun and the fire w,\y of themselves, " Come not too near;" how much more the light which none can attain unto ! We have all our limits set us : the Gentiles might come into some outer courts, not into the inmost : the Jews might come into the inner court, not into the temple ; the priests and Levites into the temple, not into the Holv of Holies ; Moses to the hill, not to the bush. The waves of the sea had not more need of bounds, than man's presumption. Moses must, not come close to the bush at all ; and where he may stand, he may not stand with his shoes on. There is no unholiness in clothes : God prepared them for man at first, and that of skins, lest any exception should be taken at the hides of dead beasts. This rite was significant. What are the shoes but worldly and carnal affections ? If these be not cast off when we come to the holy place, we make ourselves unholy : how much less should we dare to come with resolutions of sin ! This is not only to come with shoes on, but with shoes bemired with wicked filthiness ; the touch whereof profanes the pavement of God, and makes our presence odious.
Moses was the son of Amram, Amram of Kohath, Kohath of Levi, Levi of Jacob, Jacob of Isaac, Isaac of Abraham. God puts together both ends of his pedigree ; / am the God of thy fa- titer, and of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob. If he had said only, J am thy God, it had been Moses's duty to attend awfully ; but now that he says, I am the God of thy father, and of Abraham, Kc. he challenges reverence by prescription. Any thing, that was our an- cestors', pleases us; their houses, their vessels, their coat-armour; how much more their God ! How careful should parents be to make holy choices ! Every precedent of theirs is so many monuments and motives to their posterity.
What a happiness it is, to be born of good parents ! Hence God claims an interest in us, and we in him, for their sake. As many a man smarteth for his father's sin, so the goodness of others is crowned in a thousand generations. Neither doth God say, " I was the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob ;" but, / am. The pa- triarchs still live, after so many thousand years of dissolution. No length of time can separate the souls of the just from their Maker. As for their body, there is still a real relation betwixt the dust of it, and the soul ; and if the being of this part be more defective, the being of the other is more lively, and doth more than recompense the wants of that earthly half.
God could not describe himself by a more sweet name than this, I am the (rod of thy father, and of Abraham, SCc, yet Moses hides his face for fear. If he had said, " I am the glorious God that made heaven and earth, that dwell in light inaccessible, whom the angels cannot behold j" or, I am God the avenger, jus* and
70 CONTEMPLATIONS.
terrible, a consuming fire, to mine enemies; here had been just cause of terror. But why was Moses so frighted with a familiar compellation ? God is no less awful to his own in his very mercies: Great is thy mercy, that thou mayest be feared ; for to them, no less majesty shines in the favours of God, than in his judgments and justice. The wicked heart never fears God, bu4 thundering, or shaking the earth, or raining fire from heaven ; but the good can dread him in his very sun-shine : his loving deliverances and blessu.gs affect them with awfulness. Moses was the true son of Jacob ; who, when he saw nothing but visions of love and mercy, could sav, Ilow dreadful is this place /
I see Moses now at the bush hiding his face at so mild a repre- sentation : hereafter we shall see him in this very mount betwixt heaven and earth ; in thunder, lightning, smoke, earthquakes, speaking mouth to mouth with God, barefaced, and fearless: God was then more terrible, but Moses was less strange. This was his first meeting with God ; further acquaintance makes him familiar, and familiarity makes him bold : frequence of conversation gives us freedom of access to God ; and makes us pour out our hearts to him, as fully and as fearlessly as to our friends. In the mean time, now at first he made not so much haste to see, but he made as much to hide his eyes.
Twice did Moses hide his face ; once, for the glory which God put upon him, which made him so shine, that he could not be be- held of others ; once, for God's own glory, which he could not be- hold. No marvel. Some of the creatures are too glorious for mor- tal eyes ; how much more, when God appears to us in the easiest manner, must his glory needs overcome us !
Behold the difference betwixt our present and future estate : then, the more majesty of appearance, the more delight : when our sin is quite gone, all our fear at God's presence shall be turned into joy. God appeared to Adam before his sin with comfort, but in the same form which after his sin was terrible. And if Moses cannot, abide to look upon God's glory when he descends to us in mercy, how shall wicked ones abide to see his fearful presence when he sets upon vengeance ! In this fire he flamed and con- sumed not, but in his revenge our God is a consuming fire.
First, Moses hides himself in fear, now in modesty : Who am I? None in all Egypt or Midian was comparably fit for this embas- sage. Which of the Israelites had been brought up a courtier, a scholar, an Israelite by blood, by education an Egyptian, learned, wise, valiant, experienced ? Yet, Who am J ? The more fit any man is for whatsoever vocation, the less he thinks himself. For- wardness argues insufficiency. The unworthy thinks still, " Who am I not ?" Modest beginnings give hopeful proceedings, and happy endings. Once before, Moses had taken upon h m and laid about him ; hoping then they would have known, that by his hand God meant to deliver Israel ; but now, when it comes to the point, Who am 1? God's best servants are not ever in an equal disposition to good duties. If we find differences in ourselves
OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 71
sometimes, it argues that grace is not our own. It is our frailty, that those services which we are forward to, aloof off ; we shrink at near hand, and fearfully misgive. How many of us can bid de- fiances to death, and suggest answers to absent temptations, which when they come home to us, we fly off, and change our note, an4 instead of action, expostulate ! Exod. Hi.
OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT.
It is too much honour for flesh and blood, to receive a message from heaven ; yet here God sends a message to man, and is re- pulsed. Well may God ask, Who is man, that I should regard him ? but for man to ask, Who is the Lord ? is a proud and bold blasphemy.
Thus wild is nature at the first ; but ere God hath done with Pharaoh, he will be known of him ; he will make himself known by him, to all the world. God might have swept him away sud- denly.
How unworthy is he of life, who, with the same breath that he receives, denies the Giver of it ! But he would have him con- vinced, ere he were punished ; first therefore, he works miracles before him, then upon him.
Pharaoh was now, from a staff of protection and sustentation to God's people, turned to a serpent that stung them to death : God shews himself iti this real emblem ; doing that suddenly before him, which Satan had wrought to him by leisure ; and now when he crawls, and winds, and hisses, threatening peril to Israel, he shews him how in an instant he can turn him into a senseless stick, and make him if not useful, yet fearless.
The same God, which wrought this, gives Satan leave to imitate it : the first plague, that he meant to inflict upon Pharaoh, is delu- sion. God can be content the devil should win himself credit, where he means to judge, and holds the honour of a miracle well lost, to harden an enemy ; yet, to shew that his miracle was of power, the otuers of permission, Moses's serpent devours theirs. How easily might the Egyptians have thought, that he, which caused their serpent not to be, could have kept it from being ; and that they, which could not keep his serpent from devouring, could not secure them from being consumed ! but wise thoughts enter not into those that must perish.
All God's judgments stand ready, and wait but till they be called for. They need hut a watch-word to be given them. No sooner is the rod lift up, but they are gone forth into the world ; presently, the waters run into blood, the frogs and lice crawl about, and all the other troops of God come rushing in upon his adversa- ries.
All creatures conspire to revenge the injuries of God. If the Egyptians look upward, there they have thunder, lightning, hail, tempests ; one, while no light at all, another while such fear-
72 CONTEMPLATION'S.
ful flashes as had more terror than darkness : if they look under them, there they see their waters changed into blood, their earth swarming with frogs and grasshoppers: if about them, one while the flies fill their eyes and ears ; another while, they see their fruits deployed, their cattle dying, their children dead: if, lastly, they look upon themselves, they see themselves loathsome with lice, painl'ul and deformed with scabs, biles, and blotches.
First, God begins his judgments with waters. As the river of Nilus was to Egypt, instead of heaven, to moisten and fatten the earth ; so their confidence was more in it than in heaven. Men are sure to be punished most and soonest, in that which they make a co-rival with God.
They had before defiled the river with the blood of innocents ; and now it appears to them, in his own colour. The waters will no longer keep their counsel. Never any man delighted in blood, which had not enough of it ere his end : they shed but some few streams, and now behold, whole rivers of blood.
Neither was this more a monument of their slaughter past, than an image of their future destruction. They were afterward over- whelmed in the Red Sea, and now beforehand they see the rivers red with blood.
How dependant and servile is the life of man, that cannot either want one element, or endure it corrupted • It is hard to sav, whether there were more horror or annoyance in this plague. They complain of thirst, and yet doubt whether they should die, or quench it with blood.
Their fish, the chief part of their sustenance, dies with infec- tion, and infecteth more by being dead. The stench of both is ready to poison the inhabitants •, yet Pharaoh's curiositv carries him away quite from the sense of the judgment : he would rather send for his magicians to work feats, than to humble himself under God for the removal of this plague ; and God plagues his curiosity with deceit : those whom he trusts shall undo him with prevailing ; the glory of a second miracle shall be obscured by a false imita- tion, for a greater glory to God in the sequel.
The rod is lift up again : behold, that Nilus, which they had be- fore adored, was never so beneficial as it is now troublesome ; yield- ing them not only a dead, but a living annoyance : it never did so store them with fish, as now it plagues them with frogs; whatever any man makes his god, besides the true one, shall be once his tor- menter. Those loathsome creatures leave their own element, to punish them which rebelliously detain Israel from their own. No bed, no table, can be free from them : their dainty ladies cannot keep them out of their bosoms : neither can the Egyptians sooner open their mouths, than they are ready to creep into their throats; as if they would tell them, that they came on purpose to revenge the wrongs of their Maker. *
Yet even this wonder also is Satan allowed to imitate. Who can marvel, to see the best virtues counterfeited by wicked men, when he sees the devil emulating the miraculous power of God ? The
OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 73
feats that Satan plays may harden, but cannot benefit. He, that hath leave to bring frogs, hath neither leave nor power to take them away, nor to take away the stench from them. To bring them, was but to add to the judgment ; to remove them, was an act of mercy. -God doth commonly use Satan in executing of judgment, never in the works of mercy to men.
Yet even by thus much is Pharaoh hardened, and the sorcerers grown insolent. When the devil and his agents are in the height of their pride, God shames them in a trifle.
The rod is lift up : the very dust receives life : lice abound every- where, and make no difference betwixt beggars and princes.
Though Pharaoh and his courtiers abhorred to see themselves lousy ; yet thev hoped this miracle would be more easily imitable : but now the greater possibility, the greater foil. How are the great wonder-mongers of Egypt abashed, that they can neither make lice of their own, nor deliver themselves from the lice that are made ! Those, that could make serpents and frogs, could not either make or kill lice ; to shew them, that those frogs and serpents were not their own workmanship. Now Pharaoh must needs see how impotent a devil he served, that could not make that vermin which every day rises voluntarily out of corruption. Jannes and Jambrcs cannot now make those lice, so much as by delusion, which, at another time, they cannot chuse but produce unknowing, and which now they cannot avoid. That spirit, which is powerful to execute the greatest things when he is bidden, is unable to do the least when he is restrained.
Now these co-rivals of Moses can say, This is the finger of God. Ye foolish enchanters, was God's finger in the lice, not in the frogs, not in the blood, not in the serpent ? And why was it rather in the less, than in the greater ? Because ye did imitate the other, not these. As if the same finger of God had not been before in your imitation, which was now in your restraint : as if ye could have failed in these, if ye had not been only permitted the other. While wicked minds have their full scope, they never look up above themselves ; but when once God crosses them in their pro- ceedings, their want of success teaches them to give God his own.
All these plagues perhaps had more horror than pain in them. The frogs creep upon their clothes, the lice upon their skins ; but those stinging hornets which succeed them, shall wound and kill. The water was annoyed with the first plague, the earth with the second and third ; this fourth fills the air, and, besides corruption, brings smart.
And, that they may see this winged arm)' comes from an angry God, not either from nature or chance, even the very flies shall make a difference betwixt Egypt and Goshen. He, who gave them their being, sets them their stint. They can no more sting an Israelite, than favour an Egyptian. The very wings of flies are directed by a providence, and do acknowledge their limits.
Now Pharaoh finds how impossible it is for him to jtand out with God, since all his power cannot rescue him from lice and flies. And
1*
CONTEMPLATIONS.
now his heart begins to thaw a little: Go, do sacrifice to your God tn this land : or, since that will not be accepted, Go into the wil- derness, but not far.
But how soovi it knits again ! Good thoughts make but a tho- roughfare of carnal hearts ; they can never settle there : yea, his very misgiving hardens him the more ; that now, neither the mur- rain of his cattle, nor the blotches of his servants, can stir him a whit, He saw his cattle struck dead with a sudden contagion ; he saw his sorcerers, after their contestation with God's messengers, struck witli a scab in their very faces ; and yet his heart is not struck. Who would think it possible, that any soul could be se- cure, in the midst of such variety and frequency of judgments ? These very plagues have not more wonder in them, than their success hath. To what a height of obduration will sin lead a man, and, of all sins, incredulity!
Amidst ail these storms Pharaoh sleepeth ; till the voice of God's mighty thunders, and hail mixed with fire, roused him up a little. Now, as betwixt sleeping and waking, he starts up and says, God is righteous, I am wicked ; Moses, pray for 14s ; and presently lays down his head again. God hath no sooner done thundering, than he hath done fearing.
All this while, you never find him careful to prevent any one evil, but desirous still to shift it off, when he feels it ; never holds constant to any good motion ; never prays for himself, but care- lessly wills Moses and Aaron to pray for him ; never yields God his whole demand, but higgleth and dodgeth, like some hard chap- man, that would get a release with the cheapest : first, They shall not go ; then, Go and sacrifice, but in Egypt ; next, Go sacrifice in the wilderness, but not far off; after, Go ye that are men ; then, Go you and your children only ; at last, Go all save yaur sheep and cattle. Wheresoever mere nature is, she is still improvident of future good, sensible of present evil, inconstant in good pur- poses ; unable, through unacquaintance, and unwilling to speak lor herself; niggardly in her grants, and uncheerful.
The plague of the grasshoppers startled him a little, and the. more through the importunity of his servants : for, when he con- sidered the fish destroyed with the first blow ; the cattle, with the fifth ; the corn, with the seventh ; the fruit and leaves, with this eighth ; and nothing now left him, but a bare fruitless earth to live upon, and that, covered over with locusts ; necessity drove him to relent for an advantage. : Forgive me this once ; take from me this, death only.
But, as constrained repentance is ever short and unsound, the west wind, together with the grasshoppers, blows away his re- morse ; and now is he ready for another judgment. As the grass- hoppers took away the sight of the earth from him, so now a gross darkness takes away the sight of heaven too : other darknesses were but privative, this was real and sensible.
The Egyptians thought this n;ght long; how could they chusa when it was six in one ! and so much the more, for that no man
OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 75
could rise to talk with other, but was necessarily confined to his own thoughts : one thinks the fault in his own eyes, which he rubs oftentimes in vain : others think, that the sun is lost out of the fir- mament, and is now withdrawn for ever : others, that all things are returning to their first confusion : all think themselves misera- ble, past remedy, and wish, whatsoever had befallen them, that they might have had but light enough to see themselves die.
Now Pharaoh proves like to some beasts that grow mad with baiting : grace often resisted turns to desperateness : Get thee from me ; look thou see my face no more ; whensoever thou contest in my sight, thou shalt die. As if Moses could not plague him as well in absence : as if he, that could not take away the lice, flies, frogs, grasshoppers, could at his pleasure take away the life of Moses, that procured them. What is this, but to run upon the, judgments, and run away from the remedies ? Evermore, when God's messengers are abandoned, destruction is near.
Moses will see him no more, till he see him dead upon the sands ; but God will now visit him more than ever. The fearfullest plagues God still reserves for the upshot : all the former do but make way for the last. Pharaoh may exclude Moses and Aaron, but God's angel he cannot exclude : insensible messengers are used, when the visible are debarred.
Now God begins to call for the blood they owed him : in one night, every house hatli a carcase in it ; and, which is more grievous, of their first-born ; and, which is yet more fearful, in an instant, No man could comfort other : every man was too full of his own sorrow ; helping rather to make the noise of the lamenta- tion more doleful and astonishing.
How soon hath God changed the note of this tyrannical people ! Egypt was never so stubborn in denying passage to Israel, as now importunate to entreat it : Pharaoh did not more force them to stay before, than now to depart : whom lately they would not permit, now t S ley hire to go. Their rich jewels of silver and gold were not too dear for them, whom they hated ; how much rather would they to send them away wealthy, than to have them stay to'be their ex- ecutors ! Their Jove to themselves obtained of them the enriching of their enemies ; and now they are glad to pay them well, for their old work, and their present journey : God's people had stayed like slaves, they go away like conquerors, with the spoil of those that hated them ; armed for security, and wealthy for main- tenance.
Old Jacob's seventy souls which he brought down into Egypt, in spite of their bondage and bloodshe I, go forth six hundred thousand men besides children. The world is well mended with Israel, since he went with his staff and his scrip over Jordan. Tyranny is too weak, where God bids, Increase and multiply, I know not where else the good herb overgrows the weeds ; the Church outstrips the world. I fear if they had lived in ease and delicacy, they had not been so strong, so numerous. Never any true Israelite lost by his affliction.
76 CONTEMPLATION'S.
Not only for the action, but the time, Pharaoh's choice meets with God's : that very ni^ht, when the four hundred and thirty years were expired, Israel is gone: Pharaoh neither can, nor can will, to keep them any longer; yet in this, not fulfilling God's will, but his own. How sweetly doth God dispose of ail second causes, that, while they do their own will, they do his !
The Israelites are equally glad of this haste. Who would not be ready to go, yea to rly , out of bondage ? They have what they wished : it was no staying for a second invitation. The loss of an opportunity is many times irrecqverable : the love of their liberty- made the burden of their dough light. Who knew, whether the variable mind of Pharaoh mioht return to a denial, and, after all bis stubbornness, repent of his obedience ? It is foolish to ha- zard, where there is certainty of good offers, and uncertainty of continuance. They go therefore ; and the same God, that fetched them out, is hoth their guide and protector.
How carefully doth he chuse their way ! not the nearer, but the safer. He would not have his people so suddenly change from bondage to war. It is the wondrous mercy of God, that he hath respect, as to his own glory, so to our infirmities. He intends them wars hereafter, but after some longer breathing, and more preparation, his goodness so orders all, that evils are not ready for us, till we be ready for them.
And as he chooses, so he guides their way. That they might not err in that sandy and untracked wilderness, himself goes before them : who could but follow cheerfully, when he sees God lead him ? He, that led the wise men by a star, leads Israel by a cloud : that was a higher obiect, therefore he gives them a higher and more heavenly conduct ; this was more earthly, therefore he con- tents himself with a lower representation of his presence ; a pillar of cloud and fire : a pillar, for firmness ; of cloud and fire, for visibility and use. The greater light extinguishes the less ; there- fore in the day he shews them not fire, but a cloud : in the night nothing is seen without light ; therefore he shews them not the cloud, but fire : the cloud shekel's them from heat by day ; the fire digests the rawness of the night. The same God. is both a cloud and a fire to his children ; ever putting himself into those forms of gracious respects, that may best fit their necessities.
As good motions are long ere they can enter into hard hearts, so they seldom continue long. No sooner were the backs of Israel turned to depart, than Pharaoh's heart and face is turned after them, to fetch them back again. It vexes him to see so great a command, so much wealth, cast away in one night ; which now he resolves to redeem, though with more plagues. The same ambi- tion and covetousness that made him wear out so many judgments, will not leave him till it have wrought out his full destruction.
All God's vengeances have their end ; the final perdition of his enemies, which they cannot rest till they have attained : Pharaoh therefore and his Egyptians will needs go fetch their bane.
They well knew, that Israel was fitter to serve than to fight ;
OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 77
weary with their servitude ; not trained up to war ; not furnished with provision for a field : themselves, captains and soldiers by- profession ; furnished with horses, and chariots of war. They gave themselves therefore the victory beforehand, and Israel either tor spoil or bondage.
Yea, the weak Israelites gave up themselves for dead, and al- ready are talking of their graves. They see the sea before them ; behind them, the Egyptians : they know not whether is more mer- ciless, and are stricken with the fear of both. O God, howcouldst thou forbear so distrustful a people ! they had seen all thy won- ders in Egypt and in their Goshen ; they saw even now thy pil- lar before them, and yet they did more fear Egypt than believe thee. Thy patience is no less miracle than thy deliverance. But instead of removing from them, the cloudy pillar removes behind them, and stands betwixt the Israelites and Egyptians ; as if God would have said, " They shall first overcome me, O Israel, ere they touch thee." Wonder did now justly strive with fear in the Israelites, when they saw the cloud remove behind them, and the sea remove before them. They were not used to such bulwarks. God stood behind them in the cloud ; the sea reared them up walls on both sides them. That, which they feared would be their de- struction, protected them: how easily can God make the cruellest of his creatures both our friends and patrons !
Yet here was faith mixed with unbelief. He was a bold Israelite that set the first foot into the channel of the sea ; and every step, that they set in that moist way, was a new exercise of their faith.
Pharaoh sees all this, and wonders ; yet hath not the wit nor grace to think, though the pillar tells him so much, that God made a difference betwixt him and Israel. He is offended with the sea, for giving way to his enemies, and yet sees not why he may not trust it as well as the)'. He might well have thought, that he which gave light in Goshen, when there was darkness in Egypt, could as well distinguish in the sea; but he cannot now either consider, or fear : it is his time to perish. God makes him fair way, and lets him run smoothly on, till he be come to the midst of the sea ; not one wave may rise up against him, to wet so much as the hoof of his horse. Extraordinary favours to wicked men, are the forerunners of their ruin.
Now when God sees the Egyptians too far to return, he finds time to strike them with their last terror : they know not why, but they would return too late. Those chariots, in which they trusted, now fail them ; as having done service enough, to carry them into perdition. God pursues them, and they cannot fly from him. Wicked men make equal haste, both to sin, and from judgment ; hut they shall Owe day find, that it is not more easy to run into sin, than impossible to run away from judgment : the sea will shew them, that it regards the rod of Moses, not the sceptre of Pha- raoh ; and now, as glad to have got the enemies of God at such advantage, shuts her mouth upon them, and swallows them up in
78
CONTEMPLATIONS.
her waves ; and, after she had made sport with them awhile, casts them upon her sand, for a spectacle of triumph to their adver- saries.
What a sight was this to the Israelites, when they were now safe on the shore, to see their enemies come floating after them upon the billows ; and to find among the carcasses upon the sands, their known oppressors, which now they can tread upon with in- sult ! they did not cry more loud before, than now they sing. Not their faith, but their sense, teaches them now to magnify that God after their deliverance, whom they hardly trusted for their deliverance. Exod, vii, viii, ix, x, xi. xii.
CONTEMPLATIONS
UPON THE
PRINCIPAL PASSAGES
IN THE
HOLY STORY.
TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE,
CHARLES, PRINCE OF GREAT BRITAIN.
MOST EXCELLENT PRINCE !
-According to the true duty of a servant, I intended all my Contemplations to your now glorious Brother, of sweet and sorrowful memory. The first part whereof, as it was the last book that ever was dedicated to that dear and immortal name of his; so it was the last, that was turned over by his gracious hand.
Now, since it pleased the God of spirits to call him from these poor Contemplations of ours, to the blessed contemplation of himself, to see him as He is, to see as he is seen ; to whom is this sequel of my labours due, but to your Highness, the heir of his honour and virtues ? Every year of my short pilgrimage is like to add something to this Work; which, in regard of the subject, is scarce finite: The whole doth not only crave your Highness's patronage, but promises to requite your princely acceptation, with many sacred examples and rules, both for piety and wis- dom ; towards the decking up of this flourishing spring of your age ; in the hopes whereof, not only we live, but he that is dead, lives still in you : and if any piece of these endeavours come short of my desires, I shall supply the rest with my prayers ; which shall never be wanting to the God of Princes, that your happy proceedings may make glad the Church of God, and yourself in either world glorious.
Your Highness's in all humble devotion, and faithful observance,
JOSEPH HALL.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK V.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
HENRY, EARL OF HUNTINGDON,
LORD HASTINGS, BOTREAUX, MOLINES AND MOILES, HIS MAJESTY'S LIEUTENANT IN THE COUNTY OF LEICESTER, A BOUNTIFUL FAVOURER OF ALL GOOD LEARNING, A NOBLE PRECEDENT OF VIRTUE, THE FIRST PATRON OF MY POOR STUDIES,
/. H.
DEDICATES THIS PIECE OF HIS LABOURS, AND WISHETH ALL HONOUR AND HAPPINESS.
THE WATERS OF MARAH.
Israel was not more loth to come to the Red Sea, than to part from it. How soon can God turn the horror of any evil into plea- sure ! One shore resounded with shrieks of fear ; the other, with timbrels and dances, and songs of deliverance. Every main afflic- tion is our Red Sea, which, while it threats to swallow, preserves us. At last, our songs shall be louder than our cries. The Isra- elitish dames, when they saw their danger, thought they might have left their timbrels behind them ; how unprofitable a burden seemed those instruments of music ! yet now they live to renew that forgotten minstrelsy and dancing, which their bondage had so long discontinued : and well might -those feet dance upon the shore, which had walked through the sea. The land of Goshen was not so bountiful to them, as these waters. That afforded them a ser- •\ ile life : this gave them at once freedom, victory, riches ; bestow- ing upon them the remainder of that wealth, which the Egyptians had but lent. It was a pleasure to see the floating carcasses of their adversaries ; and every day offers them new booties : it is no marvel then if their hearts were tied to these banks. If we find, but a little pleasure in our life, we are ready to dote upon it. Every small contentment glues our affections to that we like : and if here our imperfect delights hold us so fast, that we would not be loosed ; how forcible shall those infinite joys be above, when our souls are once possessed of them ! vol. i. c
82 CONTEMPLATION'S.
\ et if the place had pleased them more, it is no marvel thev were willing to fellow Moses ; that they durst follow him in the wilderness, whom they followed through the sea : it is a great con- firmation to any people, when they have seen the hand of God with their guide. O Saviour, which hast undertaken to carry me from the spiritual Egypt to the Land of Promise ; how faithful, how powerful, have I found thee ! How fearlessly should I trust thee ! How cheerfully should I follow thee through contempt, poverty, death itself! Master, if it be thou, bid us come unto thee.
Immediately before, they had complained of too much water ; now they go three days without. Thus God meant to punish their infidelity, with the defect of that, whose abundance made them to distrust. Before, they saw all water, no laud ; now all dry and dusty land, and no water. Extremities are the best trials of men ; as in hodies, those that can bear sudden changes of heats and cold without complaint, are the strongest. So much as an evil touches upon the mean, so much help it yields towards patience ; every degree of sorrow is a preparation of the next ; but when we pass to extremes without the mean, we want the benefit of recollection, and must trust to our present strength. To come from all things to nothing, is not a descent but a downfall ; and it is a rare strength and constancy, not to be maimed at least. These headlong evils, as they are the sorest, so they must be most provided for ; as, on the contrary, a sudden advancement from a low condition to the height of honour, is most hard to manage. No man can marvel how that tyrant blinded his captives, when he hears that he brought them immediately, out of a dark, dungeon, into rooms that were made bright and glorious. We are not worthy to know, for what we are reserved : no evil can amate us, if we can overcome sudden extremities.
The long deferring of a good, though tedious, yet makes it the better when it comes. Well did the Israelites hope, that the waters which were so long in finding, would be precious \\lren they were found : yet behold, they are crossed, not only in their desires, but in their hopes ; for after three days travel, the first fountains they find arc bitter waters. If these wells had not run pure gall, thev could not have so much complained : long thirst will make bitter water- sweet; yet such were these springs, that the Israelites did not so much like their moisture, as abhor their relish. I see the first handsel that God gives them in their voyage to the Land of Promise ; thirst and bitterness. Satan gives us pleasant entrances into his ways, and reserves the bitterness for the end : God inures us to our worst at first, and sweetens our conclusion with pleasure.
The same God, that would not lead Israel through the Philistines' land, lest they should shrink at the sight of war, now leads them through the wilderness, and fears not to try their patience with bitter potions. If he had not loved them, the Egyptian furnace or sword had prevented their thirst, or that sea whereof their ene- mies drunk dead ; and yet sec how lie diets them. Never any have
THE WATERS OF MARAH.
S3
had so bitter draughts upon earth, as those he lores best : the pa- late is an ill judge of the favours of God. O my Saviour, thou didst drink a more bitter cup from the hands of thy father, than that which thou refusedst of the Jews, or than that which I can drink from thee.
Before, they could not drink if they would ; now, they might and would not. God can give us blessings with such a tang, that the fruition shall not much differ from the want : so, many a one hath riches, not grace to use them ; many have children, but such as they prefer barrenness. They had said before, " Oh that we had any water !" now, " Oh that we had good wter !" It is good so to desire blessings from God, that we may be the better for enjoy- ing them ; so to crave water, that it may not be sauced with bit- terness.
Now, these fond Israelites, instead of praying, murmur ; in- stead of praying to God, murmur against Moses. What hath the righteous done? He made not either the wilderness dry, or the waters bitter ; yea, if his conduct were the matter, what one foot went he before them without God ? The pillar led them, and not he ; yet Moses is murmured at. It is the hard condition of autho- rity, that when the multitude fare well, they applaud themselves ; when ill, they repine against their governors. Who can hope to be free, if Moses escape not ? Never any prince so merited of a people. He thrust himself upon the pikes of Pharaoh's tyranny. He brought them from a bondage worse than death. His rod di- vided the sea, and shared life to them, death to their pursuers. Who would not have thought these men so obliged to Moses, that no death could have opened their mouths or raised their hands against him ? Yet, now, the first occasion of want makes them re- bel. No benefit can stop the mouth of impatience : if our turn be not served for the present, former favours are either forgotten, or contemned. No marvel if we deal so with men, when God receives this measure from us. One year of famine, one summer of pesti- lence, one moon of unseasonable weather, makes us overlook all the blessings of God ; and more to mutiny at the sense of our evil, than to praise him for our varieties of good : whereas favours well bestowed, leave us both mindful and confident, and will not suffer us cither to forget or distrust. O God, I have made an ill use of thy mercies, if I have not learned to be content with thy correc- tions.
Moses was in the same want of water with them, in the same distaste of bitterness, and yet they say to Moses, What shall we drink ? If they had seen him furnished with full vessels of sweet water, and themselves put over to this unsavoury liquor, envy might have given some colour to this mutiny ; but how their lead- er's common misery, might have freed him from their murmurs. They held it one piece of the. late Egyptian tyranny, that a task was required of them, which the imposers knew they could not perform; to make brick 'when they had no straw: yet they say to Moses, What shall -we drink ? Themselves are grown exactors,
84 CONTEMPLATIONS.
and are ready to menace more than stripes, if they have not their ends, without means. Moses took not upon him their provision, but their deliverance ; and yet, as if he had been the common victualler of the camp, they ask, What shall we drink f When want meets with impatient minds, it transports them to fury ; every thing disquiets, and nothing satisfies them.
What course doth Moses now take ? That which they should have done, and did not : they cried not more fervently to him, than he to God : if he were their leader, God was his ; that which they unjustly required of him, he justly requires of God, that could do it ; he knew whence to look for redress of all complaints ; this was not his charge, but his Maker's, which was able to main- tain his own act. I see and acknowledge the harbour, that we must put into, in all our ill weather. It is to thee, O God, that we must pour out our hearts, which only canst make our bitter waters sweet.
Might not that rod, which took away the liquid nature from the waters, and made them solid, have also taken away the bitter qua- lity from these waters, and made them sweet ; since to flow is na- tural unto the water, to be bitter is but accidental ? Moses durst hot employ his rod without a precept ; he knew the power came from the commandment. We may not presume on likelihoods, but depend upon warrants ; therefore Moses doth not lift up his rod to the waters, but his hand and voice to God.
The hand of faith never knocked at heaven in vain : no sooner hath Moses shewed his grievance, than God shews him the iemedy ; yet an unlikely one, that it might be miraculous. He, that made the waters, could have given them any savour : how easy is it for him that made the matter, to alter the quality 1 It is not more hard to take away, than to give. Who doubts but the same hand that created them, might have immediately changed them ? Yet that Almighty Power will do it by means. A piece of wood must sweeten the waters : what relation hath wood to water ? or that which hath no savour, to the redress of bitterness ? Yet here is no more pos- sibility of failing, than proportion to the success. All things are subject to the command of their Maker ; he, that made all of no- thing, can make every thing of any thing : there is so much power in every creature, as he will please to give. It is the praise of Omnipotency to work by improbabilities ; Elisha with salt, Moses with wood, shall sweeten the bitter waters : let no man despise the means, when he knows the Author.
God taught his people by actions, as well as words. This en- trance shewed them their whole journey ; wherein the) should taste of much bitterness, but at last, through the mercy of God, sweet- ened with comfort. Or did it not represent themselves rather, in the journey ? in the fountains of whose hearts, were the bitter waters of manifold corruptions, yet their unsavoury souls are sweetened by the graces of his Spirit. O blessed .Saviour, the wood of thy cross, that is, the application of thy sufferings, is enough to sweeten a whole sea of bitterness. 1 care not how un-
THE QUAILS AND MANNA. 85
pleasant a potion I find in this wilderness, if the power and benefit of thy precious death may season it to my soul. Exoik xv.
THE QUAILS AND MANNA.
The thirst of Israel is well quenched ; for, besides the change of the waters of Marah, their station is changed to Elim ; where were twelve fountains, for their twelve tribes ; and now they complain as fast of hunger.
Contentation is a rare blessing ; because it arises, either from a frui- tion of all comforts, or a not desiring of some which we have not. Now, we are never so bare, as not to have some benefits ; never so full, as not to want something, yea as not to be full of wants. God hath much ado with us ; either we lack health, or quietness, or children, or wealth, or company, or ourselves in all these. It is a wonder these men found not fault with the want of sauce to their quails, or with their old clothes, or their solitary way. Nature is moderate in her desires ; but conceit is insatiable. Yet who can deny hunger to be a sore vexation ? Before, they were forbidden sour bread, but now. what leaven is so sour as want? When means holdout, it is easy to be content. While their dough other cates lasted, while they were gathering of the dates of Elim, we hear no news of thein. Who cannot pray for his daily bread, when he hath it in his cupboard ? But when our own provi- sion fails us, then not to distrust the provision of God, is a noble trial of faith. They should have said; " He, that stopped the mouth of the sea, that it could not devour us, can as easily stop the mouth of our stomachs : it was no easier matter to kill the first- born of Egypt, by his immediate hand, than to preserve us: he, that commanded the sea to stand still and guard us, can as easily command the earth to nourish us : he, that made the rod a ser- pent, can as well make these stones bread : he, that brought ar- mies of frogs and caterpillars to Egypt, can as well bring whole drifts of birds and beasts to the desert : he, that sweetened the waters with wood, can as well refresh our bodies with the fruits of the earth. Why do we not wait on him, whom we have found so powerful ?" Now they set the mercy and love of God upon a wrong last ; while they measure it only by their present sense. Nature is jocund and cheerful, while it prospereth : let God withdraw his hand ; no sight, no trust. Those can praise him with timbrels for a present favour, that cannot depend upon him in the want of means for a future. We all are never weary of receiv- ing, soon weary of attending.
The other mutiny was of some few malecontents, perhaps those strangers which sought their own protection und. r the wing of Israel; this, of the whole troop. Not that none were free: Caleb, Joshua, Moses, Aaron, Miriam were not yet tainted : usually God measures the state of any church or country by the most; the greater part carries both the name and censure. Sins are so much greater,
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
as they are more universal ; so far is evil from being extenuated by the multitude of the guilty, that nothing can more aggravate it. With men, commonness may plead for favour ; with God, it pleads for judgment. Many hands draw the cable with more violence, than few : the leprosy of the whole body is more loathsome, than that of a part.
But what do these mutineers say, Oh that we had died by the hand of the Lord! And whose hand was this, oh 3-e fond Is- raelites, if ye must perish by famine ? God carried you forth ; God restrained his creatures from you : and while von are ready to die thus, ye say, Oh that we had died by the hand of the Lord !
It is the folly of men, that in immediate judgments they can see God's hand ; not in those, whose second causes, are sensible : whereas God holds himself equally interested in all ; challenging that there is no evil in the city, but from him. It is but one hand, and many instruments, that God strikes us with: the water may not lose the name, though it come by channels and pipes from the spring. It is our faithlessness, that in visible means we see not him that is invisible.
And when would they have wished to die r When we sat. by the flesh-pots of Egypt : alas, what good would their flesh-pots have done them, in their death ? If they might sustain their life, yet what could they avail them in dying ? for if the)- were unpleasant, what comfort was it, to see them ? if pleasant, what comfort to part from them? Our greatest pleasures are but pains in their loss. Every mind affects that which is like itself. Carnal minds are for the flesh-pots of Egypt, though bought with servitude ; spiritual are for the presence of God, though redeemed with famine, and would rather die in God's presence, than live without him in the sight of delicate or full dishes.
They loved their lives well enough : I heard how they shrieked, when they were in danger of the Egyptians ; yet now they say, Oh that we had died ! not, " Oh that we might live by the flesh- pots ;" but, Oh that we had died! Although life be naturally sweet, yet a little discontentment makes us weary. It is a base cowardliness, so soon as ever we are called from the garrison to the field, to think of running away. Then is our fortitude worthy of praise, when we can endure to be miserable.
But what ! can no flesh-pots serve but those of Egypt ? I am deceived, if that land afforded them anv flesh-pots save their own : their landlords of Egypt held it abomination to eat of their dishes, or to kill that which they did eat. In those times then they did eat of their own ; and why not now ? They had droves of cattle in the wilderness : why did they not take of them ? Surely, if they would have been as good husbands of their cattle, as they were of their dough, they might have had enough to eat without need of murmuring : for if their back-burden of dough lasted for a month ; their herds might have served them many years. All grudging is odious ; but most, when our hands are full. To whine in the midst of abundance, is a shameful unthankfulness.
THE QUAILS AND MANNA. 87
When a man would have looked, that the anger of God should have appeared in tire ; now behold, his glory appears in a cloud. Oh the exceeding long suffering of God, that hears their murmur- inu-s ! and as if he had been bound to content them, instead of punishing, pleases them ; as a kind mother would deal with a crabbed child, who rather stills him with the breast, than calls for the rod. One would have thought, that the sight of the cloud of God should have dispelled the cloud of their distrust ; and this glory of God should have made them ashamed of themselves, and afraid of him: yet I do not hear them once say, " What a mightv and gracious God have we distrusted !" Nothing will content an impotent mind, but fruition. When a heart is hardened with any passion, it will endure much, ere it will yield to relent.
Their eyes saw the cloud ; their ears heard the promise, the per- formance is speedy and answerable. Needs must they be con- vinced, when they saw God as glorious in his work, as in his presence; when they saw his word justified by his act. God tells them afore- hand what he will do, that their expectation might stay their hearts. He doth that which he foretold, that they might learn to trust him, ere he perform.
They desired meat, and receive quails ; they desired bread, and have manna. If they had had of the coarsest flesh, and of the basest pulse, hunger would have made it dainty : but now God will pamper their famine ; and gives them meat of kings, and bread of angels. What a world of quails were but sufficient to serve six hundred thousand persons ! 'J hey were all strong, all hungry ; nei- ther could they be satisfied with single fowls. What a table hath God prepared in the desert, for abundance, for delicacy !
Never prince was so served in his greatest pomp, as these rebel- lious Israelites in the wilderness. God loves to over-deserve of men ; and to exceed not only their sins, but their very desires, in. mercy. How good shall we find him to those that please him, since he is so gracious to offenders ! If the most gi'aceless Israel- ites be fed with quails and manna ; oh, what goodness is that he ha* li laid up for them that love him! As on the contrary, if the righteous scarce be saved, where will the sinners appear ? O God, thou canst, thou wilt make this difference. Howsoever with us men, the most crabbed and stubborn oftentimes fare the best ; the righteous Judge of the world frames his remunerations as he finds us ; and if his mercy sometimes provoke the worst to repentance by his temporal favours, yet he ever reserves so much greater re- ward for the righteous, as eternity is beyond time, and heaven above earth.
It was not of any natural instinct, but from the over-nffing power of their Creator, that these quails came to the desert. Needs must they come whom GOD brings. I! is hand is in all the motions of his meanest creatures. Not only we, but they move in him. As not many quails, so not one sparrow falls without
ss
CONTEMPLATIONS.
him : how much more are the actions of his best creature, man, directed by his providence !
How ashamed might these Israelites have been, to see these creaT tnres so obedient to their Creator, as to come and offer themselves to their slaughter ; while they went so repiningly to his service and their own preferment ! Who can distrust the provision of the great Housekeeper of the world, when he sees how he can furnish his tables at pleasure ? Is he grown now careless, or we faithless rather ? Why do we not repose upon his mere}- ? Rather than we shall want, when we trust him, he will fetch quails from all the coasts of heaven to our board. O Lord, thy hand is not shortened to give ; let not ours be shortened, or shut in receiving.
Elijah's servitors, the ravens, brought him his full service of bread and flesh at once; each morning and evening. But these Israelites have their flesh at even, and their bread in the morning. Good reason there should be a difference : Elijah's table was upon God's direct appointment ; the Israelites', upon their mutiny : al- though God will relieve them witli provision, yet he will punish their impatience with delay ; so shall they know themselves his people, that they shall find they were nmrmurers.
Not only in the matter, but in the order, God answers their grudging. First they complain of the want of flesh-pots, then of bread. In the first place therefore they have flesh, bread after. When they have flesh, yet they must stay a time ere they can have a full meal ; unless they would eat their meat breadless, and their bread dry. God will be waited on, and will give the consumma- tion of his blessings at his own leisure. In the evening of our life, we have the first pledges of his favour ; but in the morning of our resurrection, must we look for our perfect satiety of the true man- na, the bread of life.
Now the Israelites sped well with their quails ; they did eat, and digest, and prosper: not long after, they have quails with a ven- geance ; the meat was pleasant, but the sauce was fearful : they let down the quails at their mouth, but they came out at their nostrils. How much better had it been to have died of hunger, through the chastisement of God, than of the plague of God, with the flesh be- twixt their teeth ! Behold, they perish of the same disease then, whereof they now recover. The same sin repeated, is death, whose first act found remission : relapses are desperate, where the sickness itself is not. With us men, once goes away with a warn- ing, the second act is but whipping, the third is death. It is a mor- tal thing to abuse the lenity of God ; we should be presumptuously mad, to hope that God will stand us for a sinning-stock, to provoke him how we will. It is more mercy than he owes us, if he forbear us once : it is his justice to plague us the second time : we may thank ourselves, if we will not be warned.
Their meat was strange, but nothing so much as their bread. To find quails in a wilderness was unusual ; but for bread to come down from heaven was yet more. They had seen quails before,
THE QUAILS AND MANNA.
though not in such number : manna was never seen till now. From this day till their settling in Canaan, God wrought a perpe- tual miracle in this food : a miracle in the place : other bread rises up from below, this fell down from above ; neither did it ever rain bread till now ; vet so did this heavenly shower fail, that it is con- fined to the camp of Israel : a miracle, in the quantity ; that every morning should fell enough to fill so many hundred thousand mouths and maws : a miracle in the composition ; that it was sweet like honey-cakes, round like corianders, transparent as dew *. a miracle, in the quality ; that it melted by one heat, by another hardened : a miracle, in the difference of the fall ; that, as if it knew times, and would teach them as well as feed them, it fell dou- ble in the even of the Sabbath, and on the Sabbath fell not : a mi- racle, in the putrefaction and preservation ; that it was full of worms when it was kept beyond the due hour for distrust ; full of sweetness when it was kept a day longer for religion, yea many ages in the ark for a monument of the power and mercy of the Giver : a miracle, in the continuance and ceasing ; that this shower of bread followed their camp in all their removals, till they came to taste of the bread of Canaan, and then withdrew itself, as if it should have said, " Ye need no miracles now ye have means."
They had the types ; we have the substance. In this wilderness of the world, the true manna is rained upon the tents of our hearts. He, that sent the manna, was the manna which he sent: he hath said, / am tne manna that came down from heaven. Behold, their whole meals were sacramental : every morsel they did eat, was spiritual. We eat still of their manna: still he comes down from heaven. He hath substance enough for worlds of souls ; yet only is to be found in the lists of the true Church. He hath more sweetness, than the honey and the honey-comb. Happy are we, if we can find him so sweet as he is.
The same hand, that rained manna upon their tents, could have rained it into their mouths or laps. God loves we should take pains for our spiritual food. Little would it have availed them, that the manna lay about their tents, if they had not gone forth and gathered it, beaten it, baked it : let salvation be never so plentiful, if we bring it not home, and make it ours by faith, we are no whit the better. If the work done, and means used, had been enough to give life, no Israelite had died : their bellies were full of that bread, whereof one crumb gives life ; yet they died many of them in displeasure.
As in natural, so in spiritual things, we may not trust to means ; the carcase of the sacrament cannot give life, but the soul of it ; which is the thing represented. I see each man gather, and take his just measure out of the common heap. We must be industri- ous, and helpful each to other : but when we have done, Christ i3 not partial. If our sanctification differ, yet our justification is equal in all.
He, that gave a gomer to each, could have given an ephah : as -easily could he have rained down enough for a month, or a year,
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at once, as for a day. God delights to have us live in a continual dependence upon his providence, and each day renew the acts of our faith and thankfulness. But what a covetous Israelite was that, which, in a foolish distrust, would he sparing the chai'ges of God ; and reserving that for morning, which he should have spent upon his supper ! He shall know, that even the hread that came dowii from heaven can corrupt : the manna was from above ; the worms and stink from his diffidence. Nothing is so sovereign, which, be- ing perverted, mav not annoy, instead of benefitting us.
Yet I see some difference between the true' and typical manna ; God never meant that the shadow and the body should agree in all things. The outward manna reserved, was poison : the spiritual manna is to us, as it was to the ark ; not good, unless it be kept perpetually ; if we keep it, it shall keep us from putrefaction. The outward manna fell hot at all on the Sabbath : the spiritual manna, though it balks no day, yet it falls double on God's day ; and if wc gather it not then ; we famish. In that true Sabbath of our glorious rest, we shall for ever feed of that manna, which we have gathered in this even of our life, Evod. xvi.
THE ROCK OF REPHIDIM.
Before, Israel thirsted and was satisfied ; after that, they hungered and were filled ; now, they thirst again. They have bread and meat, but want drink : it is a marvel if God do not evermore hold us ^hort of something, because he would keep us still in exercise We should forget at whose cost we live, if we wanted nothing. Still God observes a vicissitude of evil nd good ; and the same evils that we have passed return upon us in their courses. Crosses are not of the nature of those diseases, which they say a man can have but once. Their fir it seizure doth but make way for their re-entry. None but our last enemy comes once for all ; and I know not, if that : for even in living we die daily. So must we take our leaves of all afflictions, tnat we reserve a lodging for them, and expect their return.
All Israel murmured when thev wanted bread, meat, water ; and yet all Israel departed from the wilderness of Sin to Rephidim, at God's command. The very worst men will obey God in some- thing ; none but the good, in all : he is rarely desperate, that makf s an universal opposition to God. It is an unsound praise that is given a man, for one good action. It mav be safely said of the very devils themselves, that they do something well; thev know, and believe, and tremble. If we follow God and murmur, it is all one, as if we had staid behind.
Those distrust his providence in their necessity, that are ready to follow his guidance in their welfare. It is a harder matter to en- dure in extreme want, than to obey a hard commandment. Suffer- ings are greater trials than actions : how many have we seen jeopard their lives with cheerful resolution, which cannot endure in cold
THE ROCK OF REPHIDIM.
9 1
blood to lose a limb witb patience! Because God will have bis thoroughly tried, be puts them to both ; and if we cannot endure both to follow him from Sin, and to thirst in llephidim, we are not sound Israelites.
God led them on purpose to this dry Rephidi:n : be could as well have conducr- 1 them to another Elim, to convenient waterings ; or tie, that gives the waters of ail their channels, could as well have derived them to meet Israel: but God doth purposely carry them to thirst. It is not for necessity tbat we fare ill, but out of choice : it were all one with God to give us beaith as sickness, abundance as poverty. The treasury of bis riches hath more store than bis creature can be capable of : we could not complain, if it were not good for us to want.
This should have been a contentment able to quench any thirst : 11 God hath led us hither ; if Moses out of ignorance had mis- guided us, or we by chance fallen upon these dry deserts, though this were no remedy of our grief, yet it might be some ground of our complaint. But now the counsel of so wise and merciful a God, bath drawn us into this want ; and shall not be as easily find the way out ? It is the Lord, let him do what he will. There can be no more forcible motive to patience, than "the acknowledgment of a divine hand that strikes us. It is fearful to be in the hand of an adversary ; but who would not be confident of a Father ? Yet in our frail humanity, choler may transport a man from remem- brance of nature ; but when we feel ourselves under the discipline of a wise God, that can temper our afflictions to our strength, to our benefit, who would not rather murmur at himself, that, he should swerve towards impatience ? Yet these sturdy Israelites wilfully murmur; and will not have their thirst quenched with faith, but with water. Give us water.
I looked to bear when they would have entreated Moses to pray for thein ; but instead of entreating, they contend ; and, instead of prayers, I find commands ; Give us water. If they bad gone to God without Moses, I should have praised their faith ; but now they go to Moses without God, I hate their stubborn faithlessness. To seek to the second means, with neglect of the first, is the fruit of a false faith.
The answer of Moses is like himself, mild and sweet : Why con- tend you with me ? Why tempt yc the Lord f in the first expos- tulation condemning them of injustice; since not he, but the Lord had afflicted them : in the second, of presumption ; that, since it was God tbat tempted them by want, they should tempt him by murmuring : in the one, he would bave them see their wrong ; in the other, their danger. As the act came not from him, but from God ; so be puts it oif to God, from himself, Why tempt ye the Lord ? The opposition, which is made to the instrument i of God, redounds ever to his person. He holds himself smitten through the sides of his ministers : so hath God incorporated these respects, that our subtlety cannot divide them.
02
CONTEMPLATIONS.
But what temptation is this ? Ls the Lord among us, or no ? Infidelity is crafty, and yet foolish ; crafty in her insinuations, foolish in her conceits. They imply, " If we were sure the Lord were with us, we would not distrust; they conceive doubts of his presence, after such confirmations. What could God do more, to nial\e them know him present, unless every moment should have renewed miracles ? The plagues of Egypt and the division of the. sea were so famous, that the very inns of Jericho rang of them. Their waters were lately sweetened ; the quails were yet in their teeth ; the manna was yet in their eye ; yea, they saw God in the pillar of the cloud, and yet they say, Is the Lord amongst its ? NG argument is enough to. an incredulous heart; not reason, not sense, not experience. How much better was that faith of Thomas, that would believe his eyes and hands, though his cars he would not ? Oh the deep infidelity of these Israelites, that saw and be- lieved not !
And how will they know if God be amongst them ? As if he could not be with them, and they be athirst. Either God must hu- mour carnal minds, or be distrusted : if the}7 prosper, though it be with wickedness, God is with them ; if they be thwarted in their own designs, straight, Ls God with us ? It was the way to put God from them, to distrust and murmur. If he had not been with them, they had not lived ; if he had been in them, they had not mutinied. They can think him absent in their want, and cannot see him absent in their sin : and yet wickedness, not affliction, argues him gone ; yet then is he most present, when he most chastises.
Who would not have looked, that this answer of Moses should have appeased their fury ? As what can still him, that will not be quiet to think he hath God for his adversary ? But as if they would wilfully war against heaven, they proceed ; yet with no less craft than violence ; bending their exception to one part of the answer, and smoothlv omitting what they could not except against. They will not hear of tempting God; they maintain their strife with Moses, both with words and stones. How malicious, how heady is impatience ! The act was God's ; they cast, it upon Moses, Wherefore hast thou brought us ? The act of God was merciful ; they make it cruel, To kill us and our children : as if God and Moses meant nothing but their ruin, who inte nded nothing but their life and liberty. Foolish men ! What needed this journey to death ? Were they not as obnoxious to God in Egypt ? Could not God by Moses as easily have killed them in Egypt, or in the sea, as their enemies? Impatience is full of misconstruction: if it be possible to find out any gloss to corrupt the text of God's actions they shall be sure not to escape untainted.
It was no expostulating with an unreasonable multitude : Moses runs straight to him, that was able at once to quench their thirst and their fury : What shall L do to this people ? It is the best way to trust God with his own causes : when men will be intermeddling with his affairs, they undo themselves in vain, We shall find diftv
THE ROCK OF REPHIDIM.
93
culties in all great enterprises : if we be sure we have begun them from God, we may securely cast all events upon his providence, which knows how to dispose, and how to end them.
Moses perceived rage, not in the tongues only, but in the hands of the Israelites. Yet a while longer, and tliey will stone me. Even the leader of God's people feared death ; and sinned not in fearing. Life is worthy to be dear to all ; especially to him, whom public charge hath made necessary : mere fear is not sinful ; it is impotence and distrust that accompany it, which make it evil. How well is that fear bestowed, that sends us the more importu- nately to God ! Some man would have thought of flight ; Moses flies to his prayers ; and that, not for revenge, but for help. Who but Moses would not have said, " This tw ice they have mutinied, and been pardoned ; and now again thou scest, O Lord, how mad- ly they rebel ; and how bloodily they intend against me ; preserve me, I beseech thee, and plague them." I hear none of this ; but, imitating the long-suffering of his God, he seeks to God for them, which sought to kill him for the quarrel of God.
Neither is God sooner sought than found : all Israel might see Moses go towards the rock ; none but the elders might see him strike it. Their unbelief made them unworthy of this privilege. It is no small favour of God, to make us witnesses of his great works ; that he crucifies his Son before, us, that he fetches the water of life out of the true Rock in our sight, is a high prerogative ; if his rigour would have taken it, our infidelity had equally excluded us, whom now his mercy hath received.
Moses must take his rod: God could have done it by his will, without a word ; or by his word, without the rod ; but he will do by means, that which he can as easily do without. There was no virtue in the rod, none in the stroke ; but all in the command of God. Means must be used, and yet their efficacy must be expect- ed out of themselves.
It doth not suffice God to name the rod, without a description ; Whereby thou smotest the river : wherefore, but to strengthen the faith of Moses, that he might well expect this wonder from that, which he had tried to be miraculous ? How could he but firmly believe, that the same means, which turned the waters into blood, and turned the sea into a wall, could as well turn the stone into water ? Nothing more raises up the heart in present affiance, than the recognition of favours or wonders passed. Behold, the same rod, that brought plagues to the Egyptians, brings deliverances to Israel ! By the same means can God save and condemn ; like as the same sword defends and kills.
That power, which turned the wings of the quails to the wilder- ness, turned the course of the water through the rock : he might, if he had pleased, have caused a spring to well out of the plain earth ; but he will now fetch it out of the stone, to convince and shame their infidelity.
What is more hard and dry than the rock ? What more moist and supple than water ? That they may be ashamed to think, they
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
distrusted lest God could bring them water out of the clouds or springs, the very rock shall yield it.
And now, unless their hearts had been more rocky than this stone, they could not but have resolved them into tears, for this diffidence.
I wonder to see these Israelites fed with sacraments. Their bread was sacramental, whereof they communicated everyday: lest any man should complain of frequence, the Israelites received daily ; and now their drink was sacramental, that the ancient Church may give no warrant of a dry communion.
Twice therefore hath the rock yielded them water of refreshing, to signify that the true spiritual rock yields it always. The rock that followed them was Christ : out of thy side, O Saviour, issued that bloody stream, whereby the thirst of all believers is comfort- ably quenched: let us but thirst; not with repining, but with faith ; this rock of thine shall abundantly flow forth to our souls, and follow us, till this water be changed into that new wine, which we shall drink with thee in thy Father's kingdom. Exod. xvii.
THE FOIL OF AMALEK; OR THE HAND OF MOSES
LIFT UP.
No sooner is Israel's thirst slaked, than God hath an Amalekite ready to assault them. The Almighty hath choice of rods to whip us with ; and will not be content with one trial. They would needs be quarrelling with Moses, without a cause ; and now God sends the Amalekites to quarrel with them. It is just with God, that they, which would be contending with their best friends, should have work enough of contending with enemies.
In their passage out of Egypt, God would not lead them the nearest way, by the Philistines' land, lest they should repent at the sight of war ; now they both see and feel it. He knows how to make the fittest choice of the times of evil ; and withholds that one while, which he sends another, not without a just reason, why he sends and with-holds it : and though to us they come ever, as we think, unseasonably, and at some times more unfitly than others ; yet he that sends them knows their opportunities.
Who would not have thought, a worse time could never have be?n picked for Israel's war than now ? In the feebleness of their troops, when they were wearied, thirsty, unweaponed ; yet now must the Amalekites do that, which before the Philistines might not do : we are not worthy, not able to chuse for ourselves.
To be sick and die in the strength of youth, in the minority of children ; to be pinched with poverty, or miscarriage of children, ui <mr age; how harshly unseasonable it seems! But the infinite wisdom, that orders our events, knows how to order our times. Un- less we will be shameless unbelievers, O Lord, we must trust thee sv iih ourselves and our seasons ; and know, that not that which we re, but that which thou hast appointed, is the fittest time for our sufferings.
THE FOIL OF AMALEK, &C. 9j
Amalck was Ksau's grand-child ; and these Israelites, the sons of J;;cob. The abode of Ainalek was not so far from Egypt, but they might well hear what became of their cousins of Israel ; and now, doubtless, out of envy watched their opportunity of revenge for theirold grudge. Malice is commonly hereditary, and runs in the blood ; and, as we use to say of rennet, the older it is the stronger.
Hence is that foolish hostility, which some men unjustly nou- rish upon no other grounds than the quarrels of their fore-fathers. To wreak our malice upon posterity, is, at the best, but the hu- mour of an Amalekite.
How cowardly and how crafty was this skirmish of Amalek ! They do not bid them battle in fair terms of war, but without all noise of warning, come stealing upon the hindmost, and fall upon the weak and scattered remnants of Israel. There is no looking for favour at the hands of malice : the worst that either force or fraud can do, must be expected of an adversary ; but much more of our spiritual enemy, by how much his hatred is deeper. Be- hold, this Amalek lies in ambush to hinder our passage unto our land of promise ; aud subtlelv takes ail advantages of our weak- nesses. We cannot be wise nor safe, if we stay behind our co- lours; and strengthen not those parts, where is most peril of op- position.
I do not hear Moses say to his Joshua, " Amalek is come up against us ; it matters not whether thou go against him or not ; or if thou go, whether alone or with company ; or if accompanied, whether with many or few, strong or weak ; or if strong men, whe- ther they fight or no ; I will pray on the hill :" but, Choose us- out wen, and go fight.
Then only can we pray with hope, when we have done our best. And though the means cannot eneet that, which we desire ; yet God will have us use the likeliest means on our part to effect it. Where it comes immediately from the charge of God, any means are effectual : one stick of wood shall fetch water out of the rock, another shall fetch bitterness out of the water ; but in those pro- jects which we make for our own purposes, we must choose those helps which promise most efficacy. In vain shall Moses be upon the hill, if Joshua be not in the valley. Prayer without means is a mockery of God.
Here are two shadows of one substance ; the same Christ, in Joshua fights against our spiritual Amalek, and in Moses spreads out his arms upon the hill ; and in both, conquers. And why doth he climb up the hill rather than pray in the valley ? perhaps, that he might have the more freedom to his thoughts ; which, following the sense, are so much more heavenly, as the eye sees more of hea- ven ; though virtue lies not in the place, yet choice must be made of those places, which may be most help to our devotion : per- haps, that he might be in the eye of Israel.
The presence and sight of the leader gives heart to the people;
CONTEMPLATIONS.
neither doth any thing more move the multitude than example. A public person cannot hide himself in the valley; but yet it be- comes him best, to show himself upon the hill.
The hand of Moses must be raised, but not empty ; neither is it his own rod that he holds, but God's. In the first meeting of God with Moses, the rod was Moses's ; it is like, for the use of his trade: now the property is altered ; God hath so wrought by it, that now he challenges it ; and Moses dare not call it his own.
Those, things, which it pleases God to use for his own service, are now changed in their condition. The bread of the sacrament was once the baker s, now it is God's ; the water was once every man's, now it is tiie laver of regeneration. It is both unjust and unsafe to hold those things common, wherein God hath a peculi- arity.
At other times, upon occasion of the plagues, and of the quails, and of the rock, he was commanded to take the rod in his hand ; now, he doth it unbidden : he doth it not now for miraculous ope- ration, but for encouragement : for when the Israelites should cast up their eyes to the hill, and see Moses and his rod, (the man and the means that had wrought so powerfully for them,) they could not but take heart to themselves, and think, u There is the man that delivered us from the Egyptian, why not now from the Amale- kite ? There is the rod which turned waters to blood, and brought varieties of plagues upon Egypt, why not now on Amalek ?"
Nothing can more hearten our faith, than the view of the monu- ments of God's favour : if ever we have found any word or act of God cordial to us, it is good to fetch it forth oft to the eye. The renewing of our sense and remembrance, makes every gift of God perpetually beneficial.
If Moses had received a command, that rod, which fetched water from the rock, could as well have fetched the blood of the Amale- kites out of their bodies. God will not work miracles always ; nei- ther must we expect them unbidden.
Not as a standard-bearer, so much as a suppliant, doth Moses lift up his hand : the gesture of the body should both express and fur- ther the piety of the soul. This flesh of ours is not a good ser- vant, unless it help us in the best offices. The God of Spirits doth most respect the soul of our devotion ; yet it is both unmannerly and irreligious, to be misgestured in our prayers. The careless and uncomely carriage of the body, helps both to signify and make a profane soul.
The hand and the rod of Moses never moved in vain : though the rod did not strike Amalek, as it had done the rock ; yet it smote heaven, and fetched down victory. And, that the Israelites might seethe hand of Moses had a greater stroke in the fight than all theirs, the success must rise and fall with it : Amalek rose, and Israel fell, with his hand falling ; Amalek fell, and Israel rises, with his hand raised. Oh the wondrous power of the prayers of faith ! All heavenly favours are derived to us from this channel of grace :
THE FOIL OF AMALEK, &C. 97
to these are we beholden for our peace, preservations, and all the rich mercies of God which we enjoy. We could not want, if we could ask.
Every man's hand would not have done this, but the hand of a Moses. A faithless man may as well hold his hand and tongue still ; he may babble, but prays not ; he prays ineffectually, and receives not : only the prayer of the righteous availeth much ; and only the believer is righteous.
There can be no merit, no recompence answerable to a good man's prayer ; for heaven, and the ear of God, is open to him : but the formal devotions of an ignorant and faithless man, are not worth that crust of bread which he asks ; yea, it is presumption in himself ; how should it be beneficial to others ? it profanes the name of God, instead of adoring it.
But how justly is the fervency of the prayer added to the righ- teousness of the person ? When Moses' hand slackened, Amalek prevailed. No Moses can have his hand ever up : it is a title pro- per to God, that his hands are stretched out still ; whether to mercy or vengeance. Our infirmity will not suffer any long intention, either of bodvorniind. Long prayers can hardly maintain their vigour; as in tall bodies the spirits are diffused. The strongest hand will languish, with long extending : and when our devotion tires, it is seen in the success ; then straight our Amalek prevails. Spiritual wickednesses are mastered by vehement prayer ; and by heartlessness in prayer overcome us.
Moses had two helps, a stone to sit on , and a hand to raise his ; and his sitting and holpen hand is no whit less effectual. Even in our prayers will God allow us to respect our own infirmities. In cases of our necessity, he regards not the posture of body, but the affec- tions of the soul.
Doubtless Aaron and Hur did not only raise their hands, but their minds with his : the more cords the easier draught. Aaron was bro- ther to Moses : there cannot be a more brotherly office, than to help one another in our prayers, and to excite our mutual devotions. No Christian may think it enough to pray alone : he is no true Israelite, that will not be ready to lift up the weary hands of God's saints.
All Israel saw this ; or, if they were so intent upon the slaughter and spoil, that they observed it not, they might hear it after from Aaron and Hur: yet this contents not God; It must be writtetp. Many other miracles had God done before ; not one, directly com- manded to be recorded : the other were only for the wonder, this for the imitation, of God's people. In things that must live by re- port, every tongue adds or detracts something. The word once written is both unalterable and permanent.
As God is careful to maintain the glory of his miraculous victory, so is Moses desirous to second him ; God by a book, and Mo;es by an altar and a name. God commands to enrol it in parchment; Moses registers it in the atones of his altar ; which he raises not only for future memory but lor present use.
That hand, which was weary of hltijig up, straight offers a sacii- vol. i. " h
CONTEMPLATIONS.
fi.ce of praise to God : how well it becomes the just to be thankful ! Even very nature teacheth us men, to abhor ingratitude in small fa- vours. How much less can that fountain of goodness abide to be laded at with unthankful hands ! O God, we cannot but confess our deliverances : where are our altars ? Where are our sacrifices ? Where is our Jehovah-Nissi ? I do not more wonder at thy power in preserving us, than at thy mercy, which is not weary of casting away favours upon the ungrateful. Exod. xvii.
THE LAW.
It is but about seven weeks, since Israel came out of Egypt; in which space, God had cherished their faith by five several wonders : yet now he thinks it time to give them statutes from heaven, as well as bread.
The manna and water from the rock (which was Christ in the Gospel) were given before the law ; the sacraments of grace, be- fore the legal covenant. The grace of God preventeth our obe- dience: therefore should we keep the law of God, because we have a Saviour. O the mercy of our God ! which, before we see what we are bound to do, shews us our remedy, if we do it not : how can our faith disannul the law, when it was before it ? It may help to fulfil that which shall be : it cannot frustrate that which was not.
The letters, which God had written in our fleshly tables, were now, as those which are carved in some barks, almost grown out ; he saw it time to write them in dead tables, whose hardness should not be capable of alteration : he knew that the stone would be more faithful than our hearts.
O marvellous accordance betwixt the two testaments ! In the very time of their delivery, there is the same agreement, which is in the substance. Th ancient Jews kept our feasts, and we still keep theirs. The feast of the passover is the time of Christ's re- surrection ; then did he pass from under the bondage of death. Christ is our passover, the spotless Lamb, whereof not a bone must be broken. The very day, wherein God came down in fire and thunder to deliver the Law, even the same day came also the Holy Ghost down upon the disciples in fiery tongues, for the propaga- tion of the Gospel. That other was in fire and smoke ; obscurity was mingled with terror : this was in fire without smoke, befitting the light and clearness of the Gospel : fire, not in flashes, but in tongues ; not to terrify, but to instruct. The promulgation of the Law makes way for the law of the Gospel : no man receives the Holy Ghost, but he which hath felt the terrors of Sinai.
God might have imposed upon them a law by force : they were his creatures, and he could require nothing but justice. It had been but equal, that they should be compelled to obey their Maker ; yet that God, which loves to do all things sweetly, gives the law
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of justice in mercy, and will not imperiously command, but craves our assent for tha't, which it were rebellion not to do.
How gentle should be the proceeding- of fellow creatures, who have an equality of being, with an inequality of condition ; when their infinite Maker requests, where he might constrain ! God will make no covenant with the unwilling ; how much less the Cove- nant of Grace, which stands all upon love ! If we stay till God offer violence to our will, or to us against our will, we shall die strangers from him. The Church is the spouse of Christ : he will enjoy her love by a willing contract, not by a ravishment. The obstinate have nothing to do with God : the title of all converts, is, A Willing People.
That Israel inclined to God, it was from God ; he inquires after his own gifts in us, for our capacity of more. They had not re- ceived the law, unless they had first received a disposition fit to be commanded. As there was an inclination to hear, so there must be a preparation for hearing. God's justice had before prepared his Israelites, by hunger, thirst, fear of enemies ; his mercy had prepared them by deliverances, by provisions of water, meat, bread : and yet, besides all the sight of God in his miracles, they must be three days prepared to hear him. When our souls are at the best, our approach to God requires particular addresses ; and if three days were little enough to prepare them to receive the law, how is all our life short enough to prepare for the reckoning of our observing it ! And if the word of a command expected such readiness ; what shall the word of promise, the promise, of Christ and salvation !
The murrain of Egypt was not so infectious as their vices ; the contagion of these stuck still by Israel : all the water of the Red Sea, and of Marah, and that which gushed out of the rock, had not washed it off. From these, they must now be sanctified. As sin is always dangerous ; so most, when we bring it into God's sight : it envenomed) both our persons and services, and turns our good into evil. As therefore we must be always holy ; so most, when we present ourselves to the holy eyes of our Creator. We wash our hands every day ; but when we are to sit with some great person, we scOur them with balls. And if Ave must be sanctified only to receive the Law, how holy must we be to receive the grace promised in the Gospel !
Neither must themselves only be cleansed, but their very clothes: their garments smelt of Kgypt, even they must be washed. Neither can clothes be capable of sin, nor can water cleanse from sin : the danger was neither in their garments, nor their skin ; yet they must be washed, that they might learn, by their clothes, with what souls to appear before their God. Those garments must be washed, which should never wax old, that now they might begin their age in purity ; as those which were in more danger of being foul than bare. It is fit that our reverence to God's presence, should appear in our very garments ; that both without and within we may be cleanly ; but little would neatness of vestures avail us with a filthy
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soul. The God of Spirits looks to the inner man ; and challenges the purity of that part which resembles himself ; Cleanse your hands, ye sinners ; and purge your hearts, ye double minded.
Yet even when they were washed and sanctified, they may not touch the mount ; not only with their feet, but, not with their eyes : the smoke keeps it from their eyes ; the marks from their feet. Not only men that had some impurity at their best, are re- strained, but even beasts which are not capable of any unholincss. Those beasts which must touch his altars, yet might not touch his hill ; and if a beast touch it, he must die ; yet so as no hands may touch that, which hath touched the hill. Unreasonableness might seem to be an excuse in these creatures ; that therefore which is death to a beast, must needs be capital to them, whose reason should guide them to avoid presumption. Those Israelites, which saw God every day in the pillar of fire and the cloud, must not come near him in the mount. God loves at once familiarity and fear ; familiarity in our conversation, and fear in his commands. He loves to be acquainted with men, in the walks of their obe- dience ; yet he takes state upon him in his ordinances, and will be trembled at, in his word and judgments.
I see the difference of God's carriage to men in the Law and in the Gospel : there, the very hill where he appeared may not be touched of the purest Israelite ; here, the hem of his garment is touched bv the woman, that had the flux of blood, yea, his very face was touched with the lips of Judas : there, the very earth was prohibited them on which he .descended ; here, his very body and blood is proffered to our touch and taste. Oh the marvellous kindness of our God ! How unthankful are we, if we do not ac- knowledge this mercy above his ancient people ! They were his own ; yet strangers, in comparison of our liberty. It is our shame and sin, if, in these means of entireness we be no better acquaint- ed with God, than they whicli in their greatest familiarity were commanded aloof.
God was ever wonderful in his works, and fearful in his judg- ments ; but he was never so terrible in the execution of his will, as now in the promulgation of it. Here was nothing but a majestical terror in the e}-es, in the ears of the Israelites ; as if God meant to shew them by this, how fearful he could be. Here was the light- ning darted in their eyes, the thunders roaring in their ears, the trumpet of God drowning the' thunder-claps, the voice of God out-speaking the trumpet of the angel ; the cloud enwrapping, the smoke ascending, the fire flaming, the mount trembling, Moses climbing and quaking, paleness and death in the face of Israel, up- roar in the elements, and all the glory of heaven turned into ter- ror. In the destruction of the first world, there were clouds with- out fire ; in the destruction of Sodom, there was fire raining with- out clouds ; but here were fire, smoke, clouds, thunder, earth- quakes, and whatsoever might work more astonishment, than ever was in any vengeance indicted.
And if the law were thus given, how shall it be required ? If
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such were the proclamation of God's statutes, what shall the ses- sions be ? I see, and tremble at the resemblance. The trumpet of the angel called unto the one; the voice of an archangel, the trum- pet of God, shall summon us to the other. To the one, Moses, that climbed up that hill, and alone saw it, says, God came with ten thousands of his saints ; in the other, thousand thousands shall minister to hivi, and ten thousand thousands shall stand before him. In the one, Mount Sinai only was on a flame ; all the world shall be so, in the other. In the one, there were fire, smoke, thunder, and lightning ; in the other, a fiery stream shall issue from him, where- with the heavens shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt away with a noise. O God, how powerful art thou to inflict ven- geance upon sinners, who didst thus forbid sin ! and if thou wert so terrible a Lawgiver, what a Judge shalt thou appear ! What shall become of the breakers of so fiery a law ? Oh where shall those appear that are guilty of the transgressing that law, whose very delivery was little less than death ? If our God should exact his law but in the same rigour wherein he gave it, sin could not quit the cost : but now the fire wherein it was delivered, was but terrifying; the fire wherein it shall be required, is consuming. Happy are those that are from under the terrors of that law, winch was given in fire, and in fire shall be required.
God would have Israel see, that they had not to do with some impotent commander, that is fain to publish his laws with- out noise, in dead paper ; which can more easily enjoin, than punish ; or descry, than execute : and therefore, before he gives them a law, he shews them that he can command heaven, earth, fire, air, in revenge of the breach of the law ; that they could not but think it deadly to displease such a Lawgiver, or violate such dreadful statutes ; that they might see all the elements, examples of that obedience, which they should yield unto their Maker. .
This fire, wherein the law was given, is still in it ; and will never out: hence are those terrors which it flashes in every conscience, that hath felt remorse of sin. Every man's heart is a Sinai, and resembles to him both heaven and hell. The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law.
That they might see he could find out their closest sins, he de- livers his law in the light of fire, from out of the smoke ; that they might see what is due to their sins, they see fire above, to represent the fire that should be below them ; that they might know he could waken their security, the thunder and louder voice of God speak to their hearts. That they might see what their hearts should do, the earth quakes under them. That they might see they could not shift their appearance, the angels call them together. O royal law, and mighty law-giver ! How could they think of having any other God, that had such proofs of this ! How could they think of making any resemblance of him, whom they saw could not be seen, and whom they saw in not being seen, infinite ? How could they think of daring to profane his name, whom they
102 CONTEMPLATIONS.
heard to name himself, with that voice, Jehovah ? How could they think of standing with him for a day, whom they saw to com- mand that heaven, which makes and measures day r How could they think of disobeying his deputies, whom they saw so able to revenge ? How could they think of killing, when they were half dead with the fear of him, that could kill both body and soul ? How could they think of the flames of lust, that saw such fires of vengeance ? How could they think of stealing from others, that saw whose the heaven and earth were to dispose of at his pleasure ? How could thev think of speaking falsely, that heard God speak in so fearful a tone ? How could they think of coveting others goods, that saw how weak and uncertain a right they had to their own ? Yea, to us was his law so delivered ; to us in them : neither had there been such state in the promulgation of it, if God had not intended it for eternity. We men, that so fear the breach of hu- man laws, for some small mulcts of forfeiture ; how should we fear thee, O Lord, that canst cast body and soul into hell !
Exod. xix, xx.
THE GOLDEN CALF.
It was not much above a month, since Israel made their covenant with God ; since they trembled to hear him say, Thou shall have no other Gods but me ; since they saw Moses part from them, and climb up the hill to God : and now they say, Make us Gods, we know not what is become of this Moses. O ye mad Israelites, have ye so soon forgotten that fire and thunder, which you heard and saw ? Is that smoke vanished out of your mind, as soon as out of your sight ? Could your hearts cease to tremble with the earth ? Can ye in the very sight of Sinai, call for other gods ? And, for Moses ; was it not for your sakes, that he thrust himself into the midst of that smoke and fire, which ye feared to see afar oil' ? Was he not now gone, after so many sudden embassages, to be your leaguer with God ? If ye had seen him take to his heels, and run away from you into the wilderness, what could ye have said or done more ? Behold, our better 'Moses was with us awhile upon earth, he is now ascended into the mount of heaven, to mediate for us ; shall we now think of another Saviour ? Shall we not hold it our happiness, that he is for our sakes above ?
And what if your Moses had been gone for ever ? Must yo therefore have gods made ? If ye had said, " Choose us another governor," it had been a wicked and unthankful motion ; ye were too unworthy of a Moses, that could so soon forget him : but to say, Make us Gods, was absurdly impious. Moses was not your God, but your governor : neither was the presence of God tied to Moses : You saw God still when he was gone, in his pillar, and in his manna, and yet ye say, Make zis Gods.
Every word is full of senseless wickedness. How many gods would you have ? - or what gods are those that can be made ? or, whatever the idolatrous Egyptians did, with what face can ye,
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after so many miraculous obligations, speak of another God ? Had the voice of God scarce done thundering in your ears ? Did you so lately hear and see him to be an infinite God ? Did ye quake to hear him say out of the midst of the flames, I am Jehovah thy God: thou shalt have 110 Gods but Ale? Did ye acknowledge God your Maker, and do you now speak of making of Gods ? If ye had said, " Make us another man to go before us", it had been an im- possible suit. Aaron might help to mar you and himself; he could not make one hair of a man : and do ye say, Make us Gods ? And what should those Gods do ? Go before you. How could they go before you that cannot stand alone r your help makes them to stand, and yet they must conduct you.
Oh the impatient ingratitude of carnal minds ! Oh the sottish- ness of idolatry ! Who would not have said, " Moses is not with us, but he is with God for us ? He stays long : he, that called him, withholds him : his delay is for our sakes, as well as his ascent. Though we see him not, we will hope for him ; his favours to us have deserved not to be rejected : or, if God will keep him from us; he, that withholds him, can supply him ; he, that sent him, can lead us without him ; his fire and cloud are all-sufficient ; God hath said and done enough for us, to make us trust him : we will, we can have no other God ; we care not for any other guide." But behold here is none of this : Moses stays but some five-and- thirty days, and now he is forgotten, and is become but this Moses: yea, God is forgotten, with him; and, as if God^ and Moses had been lost at once, they say, Make us Gods. Natural men must have God at their bent ; and if he come not at a call, he is cast off, and they take themselves to their own shifts : like as the Chinese whip their gods, when they answer them not; whereas his holy ones wait long, and seek him ; and not only in their sink- ing, but from the bottom of the deeps, call upon htm; and though he kill them, will trust in him.
Superstition besots the minds of men, and blinds the eye of reason; and first makes them not men, ere it makes them ido- laters. How else could he, that is the image of God, fall down to the images of creatures ? how could our forefathers have so doted upon stocks and stones, if they had been themselves ? As the Syrians were first blinded, and then led into the midst of Samaria, so are idolaters first bereaved of their wits and com- mon sense, and afterwards are carried brutishly into all palpable impiety.
Who woidd not have been ashamed to hear this answer from the brother of Moses, Pluck off your ear-rings ? He should have said, *i Pluck this idolatrous thought out of your hearts :" and now, in- stead of chiding, he soothes them ; and, as if he had been no kin to Moses, he helps to lead them back agaiti from God to Egypt. The people importuned him, perhaps with threats. He that had waded through all the menaces of Pharaoh, doth he now shrink at ihj threats of his own ? Moses is not afraid of the terrors of God : his faith, that carried him through the water, led him up to the fire of
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God's presence ; whilst his brother Aaron fears the faces of those men, which he lately saw pale with the fear of their glorious law- giver. As if he, that forbad other gods, could not have maintained his own act and agent against men. Sudden fears, when they have possessed weak minds, lead them to shameful errors. Importunity or violence may lessen, but they cannot excuse a fault. Wherefore was he a governor, but to depress their disordered motions ? Faci- lity of yielding to a sin, or wooing it with our voluntary suit, is a higher stair of evil ; but, even at last to be won to sin, is damnable. It is good to resist any onset of sin ; but one condescension loses all the thanks of our opposition. What will it avail a man, that others are plagued for soliciting him, while he smartcth for yielding i If both be in hell, what ease is it to him that another is deeper in the pit?
What now did Aaron ? Behold, he, that alone was allowed to climb up the trembling and fiery hill of Sinai, with Moses, and heard God say, Thou shall not make to thyself any graven image, for J am a jealous God, as if he meant particularly to prevent this act, within one month calls for their ear-rings, makes the graven image of a calf, erects an altar, consecrates a day to it, calls it their god, and weeps not to see them dance before it. It is a miserable thing, when governors humour the people in their sins; and. in- stead of making up the breach, enlarge it. Sin will take heart by the approbation of the meanest looker-on ; but if authority once second it, it grows impudent : as contrarily, where the public go- vernment opposes evil (though it be under-hand practised, not without fear) there is life in that state.
Aaron might have learned better counsel of his brother's exam- ple. When they came to him with stones in their hands, and. said, Give us water, he ran as roundly to God, with prayers in his mouth ; so should Aaron have done, when they said, Give us Gods : but he weakly runs to their ear-rings, that which should be made then- god; not to the true God, which they had, and forsook. Who can promise to himself freedom from gross infirmities, when he, that went up into the mount, comes down, and doth that in the valley, which he heard forbidden in the hill f
I see yet, and wonder at the mercy of that God, which had justly called himself jealous. This very Aaron, whose infirmity had yielded to so foul an idolatry, is afterwards chosen by God, to be a priest to himself : he, that had set up an altar to the calf, must serve at the altar of God : he, that had melted and carved out the calf for a god, must sacrifice calves, and rams, and bullocks unto the true God : he, that consecrated a day to the idol, is himself consecrated to him, which was dishonoured by the idol. The grossest of all sins cannot prejudice the calling of God; yea, as the light is best seen in darkxiess, the mercy of God is most magnified in our un- worthiness.
What a difference God puts between persons and sins ! While so many thousand Israelites were slain, that had stomachfully de- sired the idol ; Aaron, that in weakness condescended, is both
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pardoned the fact, and afterwards laden with honour from God. Let no man take heart to sin, from mercy: he, that can purpose to sin upon the knowledge of God's mercy in the remission of infirmities, presumes, and makes himself a wilful offender. It is no comfort to the wilful, that there is remission to the weak and penitent.
The ear-rings are plucked off : Egyptian jewels are fit for an idolatrous use. This very gold was contagious. It had been better the Israelites had never borrowed these ornaments, than that they should pay them back to .the idolatry of their first owners. What cost the superstitious Israelites are content to be at for this lewd de- votion ! The riches and pride of their outward habit, are they wil- ling to part with, to their molten god ; as glad to have their ears bare, that they might fill their eyes. No gold is too dear, for their idol ; each man is content to spoil his wives and children, of that whereof they spoiled the Egyptians.
Where are those worldlings, that cannot abide to be at any cost for their religion ; which could be content to do God chargelcss service ? These very Israelites, that were ready to give gold, not out of their purses, but from their very ears to misdevotion, shall once condemn them. O sacrilege succeeding to supersti- tion ! of old they were ready to give gold to the false service of God ; we, to take away gold from the true : how do we see men prodigal to their lusts and ambitions, and we hate not to be nig- gards to God !
This gold is riflw grown to a calf ; let no man think that form came forth casually out of the melted ear-rings : this shape was in- tended by the Israelites, and perfected by Aaron : they brought this god in their hearts with them out of Egypt, and now they set it up in their eyes. Still doth Egypt hurt them : servitude was the least evil that Israel receives from Egypt; for that sent them still to the true God, but this idolatrous example led them to a false. The very sight of evil is dangerous ; and it is hard for the heart not to run into those sins, to which the eye and ear are inured : not out of love, but custom, we fall into some offences.
The Israelites wrought so long in the furnaces of the Egyp- tians' brick, that they have brought forth a molten calf. The black calf with the white spots, which they saw worshipped in Egypt, hath stolen their hearts ; and they, which before would have been at the Egyptian flesh-pots, would now be at their de- votions. How many have fallen into a fashion of swearing, scoff- ing, drinking, out of the usual practice of others ; as those, that live in an ill air, are infected with diseases ! A man may pass through Ethiopia unchanged ; but he cannot dwell there, and not be discoloured.
Their sin was bad enough, let not our uncharitableness make it worse : no man may think they have so put off humanity and sense with their religion, as to think that calf a God ; or that this idol, which they saw yesterday made, did bring them out of Egypt ,three months ago. This were to make them more beasts than that
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calf, which this image represented : or if they should have been so insensate, can we think that Aaron could be thus desperately- mad ? The image and the holy day were both to one Deity : To- morrow is the holyday of the Lord your God. It was the true God they meant to worship in the calf ; and yet at best this ido- latry is shameful. It is no marvel if this foul sin seek pretences ; yet no excuse can hide the shame of such a face. God's jea- lousy is not stirred only by the rivalry of a false god, but of a false worship : nothing is more dangerous, than to mint God's ser- vices in our own brain.
God sends down Moses to remedy this sin. He could as easily have prevented, as redressed it. He knew before Moses came up, what Israel would do before he came down : like as he knew the two tableswould be broken, before he gave them. God most wisely per- mits, and ordinates sin to his own ends, without our excuse ; and though he could easily by his own hands remedy evils, yet he will do it by means, both ordinary and subordinate. It is not for us to look for any immediate redress from God, when we have a Moses, by whom it may be wrought : since God himself expects this from man, why should man expect it from God ?
Now might Moses have found a time to have been even with Israel, for all their unthankfulness, and mutinous insurrections ; Let me alone : / will consume them, and make thee a mighty nation. Moses should not need to solicit God for revenge ; God solicits him, in a sort, for leave to revenge. Who would look for such a word from God to man, Let me alone ? As yet, Moses had said nothing ; before he opens his mouth, God prevents his importu- nity, as foreseeing that hoi}' violence, winch the requests of Moses would offer to him. Moses stood trembling before the majesty of his Maker ; and yet hears him say, Let me alone. The mercy of our God hath, as it were, obliged his power to the faith of men : the fervent prayers of the faithful hold the hands of the Almighty. As I find it said afterwards of Christ, That he could do no miracles there, because of their unbelief ; so now, I hear God, as if lie could not do execution upon Israel because of Moses's faith, say, Let me alone, that lmay consume them.
We all naturally affect propriety, and like our own so much better, as it is freer from partners. Every one would be glad to say, with that proud one, / am, and there is none beside vie: so much the more sweetly would this message have sounded to nature, / will consume them, and make of thee a might}/ nation: how many endeavour that not, without danger of curses and uproar, which was voluntarily tendered unto Moses ! Whence are our depopulations and inclosures, but for that men cannot abide either fellows or neighbours : but how graciously doth Moses strive with God, against his own preferment ! If God had threatened, " I will consume thee, and make of them a mighty nation;" I doubi whether he could have been more moved. The more a man can leave himself behind him, and aspire to a care of community 3 the
THE GOLDEN CALF. 107
more spiritual he is. Nothing makes a man so good a patriot as religion. '
Oh the sweet disposition of Moses ; fit for him that should be familiar with God ! He saw they could he content to be merry and happy without him ; he would not be happy without them. They had professed to have forgotten him ; -lie slacks not to sue for them. He, that will ever hope for good himself, must return good for evil unto others.
Yet was it not Israel so much that Mcses respected, as God in Israel. He was thrifty and jealous for his Maker ; and would not have him lose the glory of his mighty deliverances ; nor would abide a pretence for any Egyptian dog to bark against the pow- erful work of God ; Wherefore shall the Egyptians say ? If Israel could have perished without dishonour to God, perhaps his haired to their idolatry would have overcome his natural love, and he had let God alone : now, so tender is he over the name of God, that he would rather have Israel escape with a sin, than God's glory should be blemished in the opinions of men, by a just judg- ment. He saw that the eyes and tongues of all the world were intent upon Israel ; a people so miraculously fetched from Egypt, whom tnesea gave way to, whom lieavenfed, whom the rock wa- tered, whom the fire and cloud guarded, which heard the audible voice of God. He knew withal, how ready the world would be to misconstrue, and how the heathens would be ready to cast impu- tations of levity or impotence upon God ; and therefore s iys, What will the Egyptians say ? Happy is that man, which can make God's glory the scope of all his actions and desires ; neither cares for his own welfare, nor fears the miseries of others, but with respect to God in both.
If God had not given Moses this care of his glory, he could not have had it; and now his goodness takes it so kindly, as if himself had received a favour from his creature ; and for a reward of the grace he had wrought, promises not to do that which he threatened.
But what needs God to care for the speecli of the Egyptians ; men, infidels ? And if they had been good, yet their censure should have been unjust. Shall God care for the tongues of men ; the holy God, for the tongues of infidels? The very Israelites, now they were from under the hands of Egypt, cared not for their words ; and shall the God of heaven regard that, which is not worth the regard of men ? Their tongues could not walk against. God, but from himself; and if it could have been the worse for him, would he have permitted it ? But, O God, how dainty art thou of thine honour, that thou canst not endure the worst of "men should liave any colour to taint it ! What do we men stand upon our justice and innocence, with neglect of all unjust censures ; when that infinite God, whom no censures can reach, will not abide that the very Egyptians should falsely tax his power and mercy ? Wise men must care, not only to deserve well, but to hear well ; and to wipe off, not only crimes, but censures.
There was never so precious a monument, as the tables written
10S CONTEMPLATION'S.
with God's own hand. If we see but the stone which Jacob's head rested on, or on which the foot of Christ did once tread, we look upon it with more than ordinary respect ; with what eve should we have beheld this stone, which was hewen and written with the very finger of God ? Any manuscript scroll written by the hand of a famous man, is laid up amongst our jewels; what place then should we have given to the hand-writing of the Al- mighty ! That, which he hath dictated to his servants the pro- phets, challenges just honour from us ; how doth that deserve ve- neration, which his own hand wrote immediatelv !
Prophecies and evangelical discourses he hath written bv others ; never did he write anv thing himself but these tables of the law : neither did he ever speak anv thing audiblvto the whole of mankind, but it ; the hand, the stone, the law were all his. Bv how much more precious this record was, by so much was the fault greater, of defacing it. W hat king holds it less than rebellion, to tear his Writing, and blemish his seal ? At the first he engraved his image in the table of man's heart ; Adam blurred the image, but, through God's mercv, saved the tablet. Now he writes his will in the tables of stone ; Moses breaks the tables, and defaces the writing : if they had been given him for himself, the author, the matter had deserved, that, as they were written in stone for permanency, so they should be kept for ever ; and as they were everlasting in use, so they should be in preservation. Had thev been written in clay, they could but have been broken ; but now they were given for all Israel, for all mankind. He was but the messenger, not the owner. Howsoever therefore Israel had deserved, bv breaking this cove- nant with God, to have this monument of God's covenant with them broken by the same hand that wrote it, yet how durst Moses thus carelessly cast away the treasure of all the world ; and by his hands undo that, which was with such cost and care done by his Cre- ator r How durst he fail the trust of that God, whose pledge he received with awe and reverence ? He that expostulated with God, to have Israel live and prosper, whv would he deface the rule of their life, in the keeping whereof they should prosper ?
I see, that forty days' talk with God cannot bereave a man of passionate infirmity : he, that was the meekest upon earth, in a sudden indignation abandons that, which in cold blood he would have held faster than his life : he forgets the law written, when he sees it broken ; his zeal for God hath transported him from him- self, and his duty to the charge of God : he more hates the golden calf, wherein he sees engraven the idolatry of Israel, than lie ho- nours the tables of stone, wherein God had engraven his com- mandments ; and more longs to deface the idol, than he cares to preserve the tables, Yet that God, which so sharply revenged the breach of one law upon the Israelites, checks not Moses for break- ing both the tables of the law. The law of God is spiritual ; the internal breach of one law is so heinous, that, in comparison of it, God scarce counts the breaking of the outward tables a breacli of the law. The goodness of God winks at the errors of honest zeal,
THE GOLDEN CALF. 109
and so loves the strength of good affections, that it passeth over their infirmities : how highly God doth esteem a well-governed zeal, when his mercy crowns it with all the faults !
The tables had not offended ; the calf had, and Israel in it. Moses takes revenge on both : he burns and stamps the calf to powder, and gives it Israel to drink ; that they might have it in their guts, instead of their eyes : how he hasteth to destroy the idol, wherein they sinned ! that, as an idol is nothing, so it might be brought to nothing ; and atoms and dust are nearest to no- thing : that, instead of going before Israel, it might pass through them ; so as the next day they might find their god in their excrements ; to the just shame of Israel, when they should see their new God cannot defend himself, from heing either nothing or worse.
Who can but wonder, to see a multitude of so many hundred thousands, when Moses came running down the hill, to turn their eyes from their god to him ; and on a sudden, instead of worship- ing their idol, to batter it in pieces, in the very height of the no- velty ! instead of building altars, and kindling fires to it, to kindle a hotter fire than that, wherewith it was melted, to consume it ! instead of dancing before it, to abhor and deface it ; instead of singing, to weep before it !
There was never a more stiff-necked people ; yet I do not hear any one of them say, " He is but one man, We are many ; how easily may we destroy him, rather than he our god ? If his bro- ther durst not resist our motion in making it, why will we suffer him to dare resist the keeping of it ? It is our act, and we will maintain it." Here was none of this ; but an humble obeisance to the basest and bloodiest revenge that Moses shall impose. God hath set such an impression of majesty in the face of lawful au- thority, that wickedness is confounded in itself to behold it. If from hence visible powers were not more feared than the invisible God, the world would be over-run with outrage. Sin hath such a guiltiness in itself, that when it is seasonably checked, it pulls in his head, and seeks rather a hiding-place than a fort.
The idol is not capable of a further revenge ; it is not enough, unless the idolaters smart : the gold was good, if the Israelites had not been evil : so great a sin cannot be expiated without blood. Behold, that meek spirit, which in his plea with God would rather perish himself than Israel should perish, arms the Levites against their brethren, and rejoices to see thousands of the Israelites bleed, and blesses their executioners.
It was the mercy of Moses that made him cruel : he had been cruel to all, if some had not found him cruel. They are merciless hands, which are not sometimes imbrued in blood : there is no less charity, than justice, in punishing sinners with death ; God de- lights no less in a killing mercy, than in a pitiful justice : some tender hearts would be ready to censure the rigour of Moses. " Might not Israel have repented and lived ? Or if they must die, must their brethren's hand be upon them ? or, if their throats must
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
be cut by their brethren-, shall it be done in the very beat of their sin ?" But they must learn a difference betwixt pity and fondness, mercy and injustice. Moses had a heart as soft as theirs, but more hot ; as pitiful, but wiser. He was a good physician, and saw that Israel could not live unless he bled ; he therefore lets out this corrupt blood, to save the whole body. There cannot be a better sacrifice to God, tiian the blood of malefactors ; and this first sacrifice so pleased God in the hands of the Levites, that be would have none but them sacrifice to him for ever. The blood of 'he idolatrous Israelites cleared that tribe from the blood of the innocent rShechemites. Exod. xxxii.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK VI. — ■ 1 i i — i
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THOMAS, LORD VISCOUNT FENTON,
CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD ; ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNSELLORS; ONE OF THE HAPPY RESCUERS OF THE DEAR LIFE OF OUR GRACIOUS SOVEREIGN LORD, A WORTHY PATTERN OF ALL TRUE HONOUR : /. J I
DEDICATES THIS PART OF HIS MEDITATIONS, AND WISHETH ALL IN- CREASE OF GRACE AND HAPPINESS.
THE VEIL OF MOSES.
It is a wonder, that neither Moses nor any Israelite gathered Hp the shivers of the former tables; every shred of that stone, and every letter of that writing, had" been a relic worth laying up ; but he well tew how headlong the people were to superstition; and how unsafe it were to feed that disposition in them. The same zeal, that burnt the calf to ashes, concealed the ruins of this monument. Holy things, besides their use, challenge no further respect. The break- ing of the tables did as good as blot out all the writing ; and the writing defaced, left no virtue in the stone, no reverence to it.
If God had not been friends with Israel, he had not renewed his law. As the Israelites were wilfully blind, if they did not see God's anger in the tables broken ; so could they not but hold it a good sign of grace, that God gave them his testimonies.
There was nothing, wherein Israel outstripped all the rest of the world ihpre, than in this privilege ; the pledge of his Covenant, the law written with God's own hand. Oh what a favour then is it, where God bestows his Gospel upon any nation. . That was but a killing letter ; this is the power of God to salvation. Never is God thoroughly displeased with any people, where that continues: for, like as those which purpose love, when they fall off, call for their to- kens back again ; so when God begins once perfectly to mislike, the first thing he withdraws is his Gospel.
Israel recovers this favour, but with an abatement ; Hew thee two tables. God made the first tables : the matter, the form was -his ;
112 CONTEMPLATIONS.
now Moses must hew the next : as God created the first man after his own image, but, that once defaced, Adam begat Cain after his own ; or, as the first temple raised, a second was built, yet so far short, that the Israelites wept at the sight of it. The first" works of God are still the purest: those, that he secondarily works by us, de- cline in their perfection. It was reason, that though God had for- given Israel, they should still find they had sinned. They might sec the footsteps of displeasure in the differences of the agent.
When God had told Moses before, / will not go before Israel, but my angel shall lead /hem; Moses so noted the difference, that he rested not till God himself undertook their conduct: so might the Israelites have noted some remainders of offence, while, instead of that which his own hand did formerly make, he saith now, Hew thee ; and vet these second tables are kept reverently in the ark, when the other lay mouldered in shivers upon Sinai ; like as the re- paired image of God in our regeneration is preserved, perfected, and laid up at last safe in heaven ; whereas the first image of our created innocence is quite defaced : so the second temple liad the glory of Christ's exhibition , though meaner in frame. The merciful respects of God are not tied to glorious outsides, or the inward worthiness of things or persons : he hath chosen the weak and simple, to con- found the wise and might}".
Yet God did this work by Moses ; Moses hewed, and God wrote: our true Moses repairs that law of God, which we in our nature had broken ; he revives it for us, and it is accepted of God, no less than if the first characters of his law had been still entire. We can give nothing but the table ; it is God that must write in it. Our hearts are but a bare board, till God by his finger engrave his law in them ; yea, Lord, we are a rough quarry ; hew thou us out, and square us fit for thee to write upon.
Well mav we marvel, to see Moses, after this oversight, admit- ted to this charge again: who of us would not have said, " Your care indeed deserves trust ; you did so carefully keep the first ta- bles, that it would do well to trust you with such another burden !" It was good for Moses, that he had to do with God, not with men : tiie God of mercy will not impute the slips of our infirmity to the prejudice of our faithfulness. lie, that after the misuse of the one talent, would not trust the evil servant with a second, because he saw a wilful neglect; will trust Moses with his second law, be- cause lie saw fidelity in the worst error of his zeal. Our charity must learn, as to forgive, so to believe, where we have been deceiv- ed : not that we should wilfully beguile ourselves in an unjust cre- dulity, but that we should search diligently into the disposition of persons, and grounds of their actions ; perhaps none may be so sure as they that have once disappointed us. Yea, Moses brake the first ; therefore he must hew the second : if God had broken them, he would have repaired them ; the amends must be where the fault was. Both God and iiis Church look for a satisfaction in that wherein we have offended.
It was not long since Moies's former fast of forty days. When
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113
he then came down from the. hill, his first question was not for meat; and now going up again to Sinai, he takes not any repast with him. That God, which sent the quails to the host of Israel, and manna from Heaven, could have fed him with dainties: he goes up confi- dently in a secure trust of God's provision. There is no life to that of faith ; man lives not by bread only. The vision of God did not only- satiate, but feast him. What a blessed satiety shall there be, when we shall see him as he is, and he shall be all in all to us ; since this very frail mortality of Moses was sustained and comforted, but with representations of his presence !
I see Moses the receiver of the Law, Elias the restorer of the Law, Christ the fulfillcr of the old Law and author of the new, all fasting- forty days ; and these three great tasters I find together glorious in Mount Tabor. Abstinence merits not ; for religion consists not in the belly, either full or empty: what are meats or drinks to the kingdom of God, which is like himself, spiritual? but it prepares best for good duties. Full bellies are fitter for rest : not the body, so much as the soul, is more active with emptiness; hence, solemn prayer takes ever fasting to attend it, and so much the rather speeds in Heaven, when it is so accompanied. It is good so to diet the bo- dy, that the soul may be fattened.
When Moses came down before, his eyes sparkled with anger ; and his face was both interchangeably pale and red with indignation : now it is bright with glory. Before, there were the flames of fury in it, now the beams of majesty. Moses had before spoken with God ; why did not his face shine before ? I cannot lay the cause up- on the inward trouble of his passions, for this brightness was exter- nal. Whither shall we impute it, but to his most entireness with God ?
The more familiar acquaintance we have with God, the more do we partake of him. He, that passes by the fire, may have some gleams of heat; but he, that stands by it, hath his colour changed. It is not possible a man should have any long conference with God, and be no whit affected. We are strangers from God, it is no won- der if our faces be earthly ; but he, that sets himself apart to God, shall find a kind of majesty and awful respect put upon him, in the minds of others.
How did the heart of Moses shine with illumination, when his face was thus lightsome ! and if the flesh of Moses in this base composi- tion, so sinned by conversing with God forty days in Sinai, what shall our glory be, when, clothed with incorruptible bodies, we shall converse with him for ever in the highest heaven !
Now his face only shone ; afterwards the three disciples saw all his body shining. The nature of a glorified body, the clearer vi- sion, the immediate presence of that fountain of glory, challenge a far greater resplendence to our faces, than his. O God, we are content that our faces be blemished awhile with contempt, an(J blubbered with tears ; how can we but shine with Moses, when we shall see thee more than Moses !
vol. i. / i
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The brightness of Moses's face reflected not upon his own eres; he shone bright, and knew not of it : he saw God's face glorious, he did not think others had so seen his. How many have excellent graces, and perceive them not! Our own sense is an ill judge of God's favours to us ; those that stand by can convince us in that, which we deny to ourselves. Here below, it is enough if we can shine in the eyes of othei-s ; above, we shall shine and know it. At this instant Moses sees himself shine: then he needed not. God meant not that he should more esteem himself, but that he should be more honoured of the Israelites : that other glory shall be for our own happiness, and therefore requires our knowledge.
They, that did but stand still to see anger in his face, ran away to see glory in it : before, they had desired that God would not speak to them any more but by Moses; and now, that God doth but look upon them in Moses, they are afraid ; and yet there was not more difference betwixt the voices, than the faces of God and Mo- ses. This should have drawn Israel to Moses so much the more, to have seen this impression of divinity in his face.
That which should have comforted affrights them ; yea, Aaron himself, that before went up into the mount to see and speak with God, now is afraid to see him that had seen God : such a fear there is in guiltiness, such confidence in innocency. When the soul is once cleared from sin, it shall run to that glory with joy, the least glimpse whereof now appals it, and sends it away in terror. How could the Israelites now choose but think ; " How shall we abide to look God in the face, since our eyes are dazzled with the face of Moses?" And well may we still argue, "If the image of God, which he hath set in the fleshy forehead of authority, daunt us; how shall we stand before the dreadful tribunal of Heaven ?"
Moses marvels to see Israel run away from their guide, as from their enemy ; and looks back to see if he could discern any new cause of fear ; and not conceiving how his mild face could affray them, calls them to stay and retire.
" Oh my people, whom do ye flee : it is for your sakes that I ascended, staid, came down : behold, here are no anned Levites to strike you, no Amalekites, no Egyptians to pursue you, no fires and thunders to dismay you. I have not that rod of God in my hand, which you have seen to command the elements : or if I had, so far am I from purposing any rigour against you, that I now late- ly have appeased God towards you ; and lo here the pledges of his reconciliation. God sends me to y on for good, and do you run from your best friend ? Whither will ye go from me, or without me ? Stay and hear the charge of that God, from whom ye cannot flee."
They perceive his voice the same, though his face were changed, and are persuaded to stay, and return and hear him, whom they tlare not see ; and now, after many doubtful paces, approaching nearer, dare tell him he was grown too glorious.
Good Moses, finding that they durst not look upon the sun of his face, clouds it with a veil ; choosing rather to hidetke work of God
NADAB AND ABIHU 115
in him, than to want opportunity of revealing God's will to his peo- ' pie. I do not hear him stand upon terms of reputation ; "If there be glorv in my face, God put it there ; he would not have placed it so conspicuously, if he had meant it should be hid : hide ye your faces rather, which are blemished with your sin ; and look not that I should wrong God and myself, to seem less happy in favour of your weakness." But without all self respects, he modestly hides his glorified face ; and cares not their eyes should pierce so far, as to his skin, on condition, that his words may pierce into their ears. It is good for a man sometimes to hide his graces : some talents are best improved by being laid up : Moses had more glory by his veil, than by his face. Christian modesty teaches a wise man, not to expose himself to the fairest shew, and to live at the utmost pitch of his strength.
There is many a rich stone laid up in the bowels of the earth, many a fair pearl laid up in the bosom of the sea, that never was seen, nor never shall be. There is many a goodly star, which, be- cause of height, comes not within our account. How did our true 1 Moses, with the veil of his flesh, hide the glory of his Deity ; and put on vileness, besides the laying aside of majesty ; and shut up his great and Divine Miracles, with, See you tell no man ! How far are those spirits from this, which care only to be seen ; and wish only to dazzle others' eyes with admiration, not caring for unknown riches ! But those yet more, which desire to seem above themselves, whether in parts or graces, whose veil is fairer than their skin. Modest faces shall shuie through their veils, when the vain-glorious shall bewray their shame through their covering.
That God, which gave his law in smoke, .delivered it again through the veil of Moses. Israel could not look to the end of that, which should be abolished ; for the same cause had God a veil upon his own face, which hid his presence in the holy of holies. Nowasth? veil of God did rend, when he said, It is finished ; so the veil of Moses was then pulled off: we clearly see Christ, the end of t;he law; pur Joshua, that succeeded Moses, speaks to us bare-faced : what a shame is it there should be a veil upon our hearts, when there is none on his face!
When Moses went to speak with God, he pulled off his veil: it was good reason he should present to God that face which he had made. There had been more need of«his veil, to hide tiie glorious face of God from him, than to hide his from God ; but his faith and thankfulness servw for both these uses. Hypocrites are contrary to . Moses : he shewed his worst to men, his best to God ; they shew their best to men, their worst to God : but God sees both their veil and their lace ; and I know not whether he more hates their veil of dissimulation, cr their face of wickedness. Exod. xxxiv.
NADAB AND ABIHU.
Tii.\T*God, which shewed himself to men in fire when he delivered hi:, law, would have men present their sacrifices to hira in fire: and
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
this fire he would have his own, that there might be a just circulation in this creature ; as the water sends up those vapours, which it re- ceives down again in rain. Hereupon it was, that fire came down from God unto the altar ; that, as the charge of the sacrifice was delivered in fire and smoke, so God might signify the acceptation of it in the like fashion wherein it was commanded. The Baalites might lay ready their bullock upon the wood, and water in their trench ; but they might sooner fetch the blood out of their bodies and destroy themselves, than one flash out of heaven to consume the sacrifice.
That devil which can fetch down fire from Heaven, either mali- ciously, or to no purpose ; (although he abound with fire ; and did as fervently desire this fire in emulation to God, as ever he desired mitigation of his own) yet now he could no more kindle a fire for the idolatrous sacrifice, than quench the flames of his own torment. Herein God approves himself only worthy to be sacrificed unto, that he creates the fire for his own service ; whereas the impotent idols of the heathen must fetch fire from their neighbour's kitchen, and themselves are fit matter for their borrowed fire.
The Israelites, that were led too much with sense, if they had seen the bullock consumed with a fire fetched from a common hearth, could never have acknowledged what relation the sacrifice had to God, had never perceived that God took notice of the sa- crifice ; but now they see the fire coming out from the presence of God, they are convinced both of the power and acceptation of the Almighty. They are at once amazed and satisfied, to see the same God answer by fire, which before had spoken by fire: God doth not less approve our evangelical sacrifices, than theirs under the law ; but as our sacrifices are spiritual, so are the signs of his ac- ceptation : faith is our guide, as sense was theirs. Yea, even still doth God testify his approbation by sensible evidences : when by a lively faith and fervent zeal our hearts are consecrated to God, then doth his heavenly fire come down upon our sacrifices ; then are they holy, living, acceptable.
This flame, that God kindled, was not as some momentary bon- fire, for a sudden and short triumph ; nor as a domestic fire, to Sfo out with a day ; but is given for a perpetuity, and neither must die, nor be quenched. God, as he is himself eternal, so he loves permanency and constancy of grace in us : if we be but a flash and away, God regards us not ; all promises are to perseverance. Sure it is but an elementary fire that goes out ; that which is celestial continues : it was but some presumptuous heat in us, that decays upon every occasion.
But he, that miraculously sent down this fire at first, will not re- new the miracle every day, by a like supply : itbegan immediately from God, it must be nourished by means. Fuel must maintain that fire which came from heaven : God will not work miracles every day : if he have kindled his Spirit in us, we may not expect he shall every day begin again ; we have the fuel of the word and sacraments, prayers, and meditations, which must keep it in for
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ever. It is from God that these helps can nourish his graces in us; like as every flame of our material fire hath a concourse of provi- dence, but we may not expect new infusions : rather know, that God expects of us an improvement of those habitual graces which we have received.
While the people with fear and joy see God lighting his own fire, fire from heaven, the two sons of Aaron, in a careless presumption, will be serving him with a common flame ; as if he might not have leave to choose the forms of his own worship. If this had been done some ages after, when the memory of the original of this heavenly fire had been worn out, it might have been excused with ignorance; but now, when God had newly sent his fire from above, newly com- manded the continuance of it, either to let it go out, or while it still flamed to fetch profane coals to God's Altar, could savour of no less than presumption and sacrilege. When we bring zeal with- out knowledge, misconceits of faith, carnal affections, the devices of our will-worship, superstitious devotions, into God's service, we bring common fire to his altar : these flames were never of his kind- ling ; he hates both altar, fire, priest, and sacrifice.
And now behold, the same fire, which consumed the sacrifice be- fore, consumes the sacrificers. It was the sign of his acceptance, in consuming the beast ; but, while it destroyed men, the fearful sign of his displeasure. By the same means can God bewray both love and hatred. We would have pleaded for Nadab and Abinu ; "They are but young men, the sons of Aaron, not yet warm in their func- tion ; let both age, and blood, and inexperience excuse them as yet." No pretences, no privileges, can bear off" a sin with God : men think either to patronize or mitigate evils, by their feigned reasons. That no man may hope the plea either of birth, or of youth, or of the first commission of evil, may challenge pardon ; I see here young men, sons of the ruler of Israel, for the first offence struck dead.
Yea, this made God the more to stomach, and the rather to re- venge this impiety, because the sons of Aaron did it. God had both pardoned and graced their father ; he had honoured them ; of the thousands of Israel, culling them out for his altar : and now, as their father set up a false god, so they bring false fire unto the true God.
If the sons of infidels live godlessly, they do their kind: their punishment shall be, though just, yet less ; but if the children of re- ligious parents, after all Christian nurture, shall shame their educa- tion, God takes it more heinously, and revenges it more sharply. The more bonds of duty, the more plagues of neglect.
If from the agents we look to the act itself, set aside the original descent, and what difference was there betwixt these fires ? Both looked alike, heated alike, ascended alike, consumed alike ; both were fed with the same material wood, both vanished into smoke : there was no diftei'cnce, but in the commandment of God.
If God had enjoined ordinary fire, they had sinned to look for ce- lestial : now lie commanded only the fire which he sent ; they sinned
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in sending up incense, in that fire, which he commanded not. It is a dangerous thing in the service of God to decline from his own institutions : we have to do with a power which is wise to prescribe his own worship, just to require what he hath prescribed, powerful to revenge that which he hath not required.
If God had struck them with some leprosy in their fore-head, as he did their aunt Miriam soon after, or with some palsy or linger- ing consumption, the punishment had been grievous; but he, whose judgments are ever just, sometimes secret, saw fire the fit- test revenge for a sin of fire ; his own fire, fittest to punish strange fire ; a sudden judgment, fit for a present and exemplary sin : he saw, that if he had winked at this, his service had been exposed to profanation.
It is wisdom in governors to take sin at the first bound ; and so to revenge it, that their punishments may be preventions. Speed of death is not always a judgment : suddenness, as it is ever justly suspicious, so then certainly argues anger, when it finds us in an act of sin. Leisure of repentance is an argument of favour : when God gives a man law, it implies that he would not have judgment surprise him.
Doubtless, Aaron looked somewhat heavily on this sad spectacle. It could not but appal him, to see his two sons dead before him, dead in displeasure, dead suddenly, dead bv the immediate hand of God. And now he could repent him of his new honour, to see it succeed so ill with the sons of his loins ; neither could he chuse but see himself stricken in them. But his brother Moses, that had learned not to know either nephews or brother, when they stood in his way to God, wisely turned bis eyes from the dead carcases of his sons, to his respect of the living God ; " My brother, this event is fearful, but just; these were thy sons, but they sinned ; it was not for God, it is not for thee, to look so much who they were, as what they did. It was their honour and thine, that they were chosen to- minister before the Lord : he, that called them, just- ly required their sanctification and obedience. If they have pro- faned God and themselves, can thy natural affection so miscarry thee, that thou couldest wish their impunity with the blemish of thy Maker ? Our sons are not ours, if they disobey our Father : to pity their misery, is to partake of their sin ; if thou grudge at their judgment, take heed lest the same fire of God come forth upon this strange fire of nature. Shew now whether thou more lovest God or thy sons ; shew whether thou be a better father or a son."
Aaron, weighing these things, holds his peace, not out of an amazement nor sullecness, but out of patient and humble submis- sion ; and seeing God's pleasure, and their desert, is content to forget that he had sons. He might have had a silent tongue, and a clamorous heart. There is no voice louder in the ears of God, than a speechless repining of the soul. Heat is more intended with keeping in ; but Aaron's silence was no less inward : he knew how little lie should get by brawling with God. If he breathed out discontentment, he saw God could speak fire to him again j
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and therefore he quietly submits to the will of God, and holds his peace hecause the Lord had done it. There is no greater proof of grace, than to smart patiently, and humbly and contentedly to rest the heart in the justice and wisdom of God's proceeding, and to be so far from chiding that we dispute not. Nature is froward ; and though she well knows we meddle not with our match, when we strive with our Maker, yet she pricks us forward to this idle quarrel, and bids us, with Job's wife, Curse and die. If God either chide or smite (as servants are charged to their masters) we may not answer again : when God's hand is on our back, our hand must be on our mouth; else, as mothers do their children, God shall whip us so much the more for crving.
It is hard for a stander-by, in this case, to distinguish betwixt hard-heartedness and piety. There Aaron sees his sons lie : he may neither put his hand to them to bury them, nor shed a tear for their death. Never parent can have juster cause of mourning, than to see his sons dead in their sin ; if prepared and penitent, yet who can but sorrow for their end r But to part with children to the danger of a second death, is worthy of more than tears. Yet Aaron must learn so far to deny nature, that he must more magnify the justice of God, than lament the judgment. Those, whom God hath called to his immediate service, must know, that he will not allow them the common passions and cares of others. Nothing is more natural than sorrow for the death of our own : if ever grief be seasonable, it becomes a funeral. And if Nadab and Abihu had died in their beds, this favour had been allowed them, the sorrow of their father and brethren ; for^vhen God for- bids solemn mourning to his priests, over the dead, he excepts the cases of this nearness of blood. Now all Israel may mourn for these two ; only the father and brethren may not. God is jealous lest their sorrow should seem to countenance the sin, which he had punished : even the learfullest acts of God must be applauded by the heaviest hearts of the faithful.
That which the father and brother may not do, the cousins are commanded : dead carcases are not for the presence of God ; his justice was shown sufficiently in killing them : they are now fit for the grave, not the sanctuary : neither are they carried out naked, but in their coats. It was an unusual sight for Israel to see a linen ephod upon the bier ; the judgment was so much the more remark- able, because they had the badge of their calling upon their backs.
Nothing is either more pleasing unto God, or more commodious to men, than that when he hath executed judgment, it should be seen and wondered at ; for therefore he strikes some, that he may warn all. Lev. x.
OF AARON AND MIRIAM.
The Israelites are stayed seven days in the station o Hazeroth, for the punishment of Miriam. The sins of the governors are
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a just stop to the people ; all of them smart in one ; all must stav the leisure of Miriam's recovery. Whosoever seeks the land of promise, shall find many lets : Amalek, Og, Sehon, and the kings of Canaan meet with Israel : these resisted, but hindered not their passage ; their sins only stay them from removing. Afflictions are not crosses to us, in the way to heaven, in comparison to our sins.
What is this I see ? Is not this Aaron, that was brother in nature, and by office joint commissioner with Moses ? Is not tins Aaron, that made his brother an intercessor for him to God, in the case of his idolatry ? Is not this Aaron, that climbed up the hill of Sinai with Moses? Is not this Aaron, whom the mouth and hand of Moses consecrated a high priest unto God ? Is not this Miriam, the elder sister of Moses ? Is not this Miriam, that led the triumph of the women, and sung gloriously to the Lord ? Is not this Mi- riam, which laid her brother Moses in the reeds, and fetched her mother to be his nurse? Both prophets of God; both, the flesh and blood of Moses : and doth this Aaron repine at the honour of him, which gave himself that honour, and saved his life ? Doth this Miriam repine at the prosperity of him, whose life she saved ? Who \\ ould not have thought this should have been their glory, to have seen the glory of their own brother ? What could have been j a greater comfort to Miriam, than to think, " How happilv doth he now sit at the stern of Israel, whom I saved from perishing in a boat of bulrushes ! It is to me, that Israel owes this command- er ?" but now envy hath so blinded their eyes, that they can nei- ther see this privilege of nature, nor the honour of God's choice.
Miriam and Aaron are in mutiny against Moses. Who is so holy that sins not ? What sin is so unnatural, that the best can avoid without God ? But what weakness soever mav plead for Mi- riam, who can but grieve to see Aaron at the end of somanv sins? Of late I saw him carving the molten image, and consecrating an altar to a false god ; now I see him seconding an unkind mutiny against his brother : both sins find him accessary ; neither, prin- cipal.
It was not in the power of the legal priesthood to perform, or promise innocency to her ministers : it was necessary we should have another high priest, which could not be tainted. That King of Righteousness was of another order ; he being without sin, hath fullv satisfied for the sins of men. Whom can it now offend, to see the blemishes of the evangelical priesthood, when God's first high priest is thus miscarried ?
Who can look for love and prosperity at once, when holy and meek Moses finds enmity in his own flesh and blood ? Rather than we shall want, A marts enemies shall be those of his oxen house. Authority cannot fail of opposition, if it be never so mildly sway- ed : that common make-bait will rather raise it out of our own bo- som. To do well and hear ill, is'princely.
The Midianitish wife of Moses cost him dear. Before, she hazarded his life ; now, the favour of his people : unequal matches
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arc seldom prosperous. Although now this scandal was onlv taken ; envy was not wise enough to choose a ground of the quarrel. Whether some secret and emulatory brawls passed between Zip- porah and Miriam, as many times these sparks or' private brawls grow into a perilous and common flame ; or whether now that Jethroandhis family were joined with Israel, there were surmises of transporting the government to strangers ; or whether this unfit choice of Moses is now raised up to disparage God's gifts in him ; even in sight, the exceptions were frivolous : emulation is cu- rious, and out of the best person or act will raise something to cavil at.
Seditions do not ever look the same way they move : wise men can easily distinguish betwixt the visor of actions, and the face. The wife of Moses is mentioned ; his superiority is shot at. Pride is lightly the ground of all sedition. Which of their faces sinned like Moses ? Yea, let him but have drawn his veil, which of them durst look on his face ? Which of them had fasted twice forty days ? Which of them ascended up to the top of Sinai, and was hid with smoke and fire ? Which of them received the law twice in two several tables, from God's own hand ? And yet they dare say, Hath God spoken only by Moses ? They do not deny Moses's honour, but they challenge a part with him ; and as they were the elder in nature, so they would be equal in dignity, equal in ad- ministration. According to her name, Miriam would be exalted. And yet how unfit were they? One, a woman, whom her sex de- barred from rule ; the other, a priest, whom his office sequestered from earthly government. Self-love makes men unreasonable, and teaches them to turn the glass to see themselves bigger, others less than they are. It is a hard thing for a man, willingly and gladly to see his equals lifted over his head, in worth and opinion. Nothing will more try a man's grace, than questions of emulation1. That man hath true light, which can be content to be a candle before the sun of others.
As no wrongs can escape God, so least of all those which are offer- ed to princes : he, that made the car, needs no intelligence of our tongues. We have to do with a God, that is light of hearing: we cannot whisper any evil so secretly, that he should not cry out of noise ; and what need we any further evidence, when our judge is our witness ?
Without any delation of Moses, God hears and challenges them. Because he was meek, therefore he complained not : because he was meek and complained not, therefore the Lord struck in for him the more. The less a man strives for himself, the more is God his champion. It is the honour of great persons, to undertake the patronage of their clients: how much more will God revenge his elect, which cry to him day and night ! He, that said, / seek not wine own glory, adds, But there is one that seeks it, and judges. God takes his part ever, that fights not for himself.
No man could have given more proofs of his courage, than Moses. He slew the Egyptian ; he confronted Pharaoh in his own
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court ; he beat the Midianite. shepherds ; he feared not the troops of Egypt ; he durst look God in the face amidst all the terrors of Sinai : and yet that Spirit, w hich made and knew his heart, says,, Jfe :c>as the mildest man upon earth. Mildness and fortitude mav well lodge together in one breast ; to correct the misconceits of those men, that think none valiant, but those that arc fierce and cruel.
No sooner is the word out of Miriam's mouth, than the word of God's reproof meets it: how he bestirs him, and will be at once seen and heard, when the name of Moses is in question! Moses was zealously careful for God's glory, and now God is zealous for his. The remunerations of the Almighty are infinitely gracious. He cannot want honour and patronage, that seeks the honour of his Maker. The ready way to true glory is goodness.
God might have spoken so loud, that heaven and earth should have heard it, so as they should not have needed to come forth for audience ; but now, he calls them out to the bar, that they may- be seen to hear. It did not content him, to chide them witliin doors : the shame of their fault had been less in a private rebuke ; but the scandal of their repining was public. Where the sin is not afraid of the light, God loves not the reproof should be smo- thered.
They had depressed Moses, God advances him; they had equal- ed themselves to Moses, God prefers him to them. Their plea was, that God had spoken by them, as well as bv Moses; God's reply is, That he hath in a more entire fashion spoken to Moses than them. God spake to the best of them, but either in their dream, sleeping; or in vision, waking: but to Moses he spake with more inward illumination, with more livelv representation : to others, as a stranger ; to Moses", as a friend. God had never so much magnified Moses to them, but for their envy. We cannot devise to pleasure Gcd's servants, so much as bv (respiting them.
God was angry when he rebuked them, but more angry when he departed. The withdrawing of his presence, is the presence of his wrath. While he stays to reprove, there is favour in his dis- pleasure; but when he leaves either man or church, there is no hope but of vengeance. The final absence of God is hell itself. When he forsakes us, though for a time, it is an introduction to his utmost judgment.
It was time to look for a judgment, when God departed : so soon as he is gone from the eyes of Miriam, the leprosy appears in her face : her foul tongue is punished with a foul face. Since she would acknowledge no difference betwixt herself and her bro- ther Moses, every Israelite now sees his face glorious, hers leprous. Deformity is a fit cure of pride. Because the venom of her tongue would have eaten into the reputation of her brother, therefore a poisonous infection eats into her flesh. Now both Moses and Mi- riam need to wear a veil : the one to hide his glory ; the other, her deformity. That Midianite, Zipporah, whom she scorned, was beautiful in respect of her.
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Miriam was stricken, Aaron escaped: both sinned; his priest- hood could not rescue him ;, the greatness of his dignity did but add to the heinousness of his sin : his repentance freed him ; dlusy ■my Lord, I beseech thee lay not this sin upon us, which zoe have foolishly committed. I wonder not to see Aaron free, while I see him penitent ; this very confession saved him befoi'e, from bleed- ing for idolatry, which now preserves him from leprosy, for his en- vious repining. The universal antidote for all the judgments of God is our humble repentance. .
Yea, his sad deprecation prevailed, both to clear himself and to recover Miriam : the brother sues for himself and his sister, to that brother whom they both emulated: for pardon from himself, and that God which was offended in him. Where now is that equality which was pretended ? Behold, he, that so lately made his brother his fellow, now makes him his God : Lay not this sin upon us ; Let her not be as one dead : as if Moses had imposed this plague, and could remove it. Never any opposed the servants of God, but one time or other they have been constrained to confess a superiority.
Miriam would have wounded Moses with her tongue ; Moses would heal her with his, 0 Lord, heal her voxu : the wrong is the greater, because his sister did it. He doth not say, " I sought not her shame, she sought mine ; if God have revenged it, I have no reason to look on her, as a sister, who looked at ine, as an ad- versary :" but, as if her leprosy were his, he cries out for her cure.
0 admirable meekness of Moses ! His people the Jews rebelled against him ; God proffers revenge ; he would rather die, than they should perish : his sister rebels against him ; God works his revenge ; he will not give God peace, till she be recured. Behold a< worthy and noble pattern for us to follow. How far are they from this disposition, who are not only content God should re- venge, but arc ready to prevent God's revenge with their own !
God's love to Moses suffers him not to obtain presently his suit for Miriam : his goodnature to his sister made him pray against himself. If the judgment had been at once infiictedand removed, there had been no example of terror for others : God either de- nies or defers the grant of our requests, for our good : it were wide for us, if our suits should be ever heard. It was fit for all parts, Miriam should continue some while leprous. There is no policy in a sudden removal of just punishment: unless the rain so fall that it lie, and soak into the earth, it profits nothing. If the judgments of God should be only as passengers, and not so- journers at least, they would be no whit regarded. Num.xii.
THE SEARCHERS OF CANAAN.
1 can but wonder at the counsel of God. If the Israelites had gone on to Canaan without inquiry, their confidence had possess- ed it ; now they send to espy the land, six hundred thousand ot them never lived to see it : and yet I see God enjoining them to
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send ; but enjoining it, upon their instance. Some things God allows in judgment ; their importunity and distrust extorted from God this occasion of their overthrow. That, which the Lord moves unto, prospers ; but that, which we move him to first, sel- dom succeedeth. What needed they doubt of the goodness of that land, which God told them did flow with milk and honey ? What needed they to doubt of obtaining that, which God pro- mised to give ? When we will send forth our senses, to be our scouts in the matters of faith, and rather dare trust men than God, we are worthy to be deceived.
The basest sort of men are commonly held fit enough for in- telligencers ; but Moses, to make sure work, chooseth forth the best of Israel, such as were like to be most judicious in their in- quiry, and most credible in their report. Those, that ruled Israel at home, could best descry for them abroad : what should direct the body, but the head ? Men can judge but by appearance : it is for him only that sees the event, ere be appoint the means, not to be deceived. It had been better for Israel to have sent the offal of the multitude : by how much less the credit of their persons is, by so much less is the danger of seducement. The error of the mighty is armed with authority, and in a sort commands assent : whether in good or evil, greatness hath ever a train to follow it at the heels.
Forty days they spent in this search ; and this cowardly unbe- lief in the search shall cost them forty years delay of the fruition. Who can abide to see the rulers of Israel so basely timorous ? They commend the land, the fruit commends itself, and yet they plead difficulty : We be not able to go up. Their shoulders ai-e laden with the grapes, and yet their hearts are overlaid with unbelief : it is an unworthy thing to plead hardness of achieving, where the benefit will more than requite the endeavour. Our land of pro- mise is above ; we know, the fruit thereof is sweet and glorious, the passage difficult. The gigantic sons of Anak (the powers of darkness) stand in our way : if we sit down and complain, we shall once know, that without shall be the fearful.
See the idle pleas of distrust ; We arenot able : they are stronger. Could not God enable them? Was he not stronger than their giants ? Had he not promised to displace the Canaanites, to settle them in their stead ? How much more easy is it for us to spy their weakness, than for them to espy the strength of their adversaries ? When we measure our spiritual success by our own power, we are vanquished before we fight. He, that would overcome, must nei- ther look upon his own arm, nor the arm of his enemy, but the mouth and hand of him that hath promised, and can perform. Who are we flesh and blood, with our breath in our nostrils, that we should fight with principalities, powers, spiritual wickednesses in heavenly places ? The match is too unequal: we are but like grasshoppers to these giants ; when we compare ourselves with them, how can we but despair? when we compare them with God, how can we be discouraged? He, that hath brought us into
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this field, hath promised us victory. God knew their strength, be- fore he offered to commit us.
Well might they have thought, " Were not the Amalckites stronger than we ? Were not they armed, we naked ? Did not the only hand of Moses, by lifting up, beat them down ? Were not the Egyptians no less our masters ? Did not death come running after us in their chariots ? Did we not leave these buried in the sea, the other unburied in the wilderness ? Whence had the Ana- kims their strength, but from him that bids us go up against them? Why have the bodies of our forefathers taken possession of their Hebron, but for us?" But now, their fear hath not left them so much reason, as to compare their adversaries with others, but only with themselves : doubtless, these giants were mighty, but their fear hath stretched them out some cubits beyond their stature. Distrust makes our dangers greater, and our helps less than they are, and forecasts ever worse than shall be ; and if evils be possible, it makes them certain.
Amongst those twelve messengers, whom our second Moses sent through the land of promise, there was but one Judas ; but amongst those twelve, which the former Moses addressed through the same land, there is but one Caleb ; and yet those were chosen out of the meanest, these out of the heads of Israel. As there is no society free from some corruption, so it is hard, if, in a com- munity of men, there be not some faithfulness.
We shall wrong God, if we fear lest good causes shall be quite forsaken : he knows how to serve himself of the best, if the fewest; and could as easily be attended with a multitude, if he did not seek his own glory, in unlikelihoods.
Joshua was silent, and wisely spared his tongue for a further ad- vantage : only Caleb spake. I do not hear hiin say, " Who am I to strive with a multitude ? What can Joshua and I do against ten rulers? It is better to sit still, than to rise and fall:" but he re- solves to swim against this stream, and will either draw friends to the truth, or enemies upon himself. True Christian fortitude teaches us not to regard the number or quality of the opponents, but the equity of the cause; and cares not to stand alone, and chal- lenge aJl comers ; and if it could be opposed by as many worlds as men, it may be overborne, but it cannot be daunted : whereas popularity carries weak minds, and teaches them the safety of err- ing with a multitude.
Caleb saw the gigantic Anakims and the walled cities, as well as the rest ; and yet he says, Let us g'o up and possess it : as if it were no more, but to go, and see, and conquer. Faith is cou- rageous, and makes nothing of those dangers, wherewith others are quailed. It is very material with what eyes we look upon all objects. Fear doth not more multiply evils, than faith diminish- eth them ; which is therefore bold, because either it sees not, or contemns that terror, which fear represents to the weak. There is none so valiant as the believer.
It hud been happy for Israel, if Caleb's counsel had been as
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effectual as good. But how easily have these rulers discouraged a faint-hearted people ! Instead of lifting up their ensigns and marching towards Canaan, they sit them down and lift up their voice and cry. The rods of their Egyptian task-masters had never been so fit for them, as now, for crying. They had cause indeed to weep for the sin of their infidelity ; but now they weep for fear of those enemies they saw not. I fear if there had been ten Calebs to persuade, and but two faint spies to discourage them, those two cowards would have prevailed against those ten solicitors : how much more now ten oppose, and but two encourage \ An easy rhetoric draws us to the worse part ; yea, it is hard not to. run down the hill. The faction of evil is so much stronger in our na- ture than that of good, that every least motion prevails for the one, scarce any suit for the other.
Now is Moses in danger of losing all the cost and care, that ever he bestowed upon Israel : his people are already gone back to Egypt, in their hearts ; and their bodies are returning. O ye re- bellious Hebrews, where shall God have you at last ? Did ever Moses promise to bring you to a fruitful land, without inhabitants ? to give you a rich country, without resistance ? Are not the graves of Canaan as good as those of Egypt ? What can ye but die at the hands of the Anakims ? Can ye hope for less from the Egyp- tians r What madness is this to wish to die, for fear of death ? Is there less hope from your enemies that shall be, when ye go under strong and expert leaders, than from the enemies that were, when ye shall return masterless ? Can those cruel Egyptians so soon have forgotten the blood of their fathers, children, brothers, husbands, which perished in pursuing you ? Would ye rather trust the mer- cy of known enemies, than the promise of a faithful God 5 Which way will ve return ? Who shall divide the sea for you ? Who shall fetch you water out of the i*ock ? Or can ye hope that the manna of God will follow you, while ye run from him ? Feeble minds, when they meet with crosses they looked not for, repent of their good beginnings, and wish any difficulty rather than that they find. How many have pulled back their foot from the narrow way, for the troubles of a good profession !
It had been time for the Israelites to have fallen down on their faces before Moses and Aaron, and to have said, " Ye led us through the sea, make way for us into Canaan. Those giants are strong, but not so strong as the rock of Bephidim: ye struck that, and it yielded. If they be tall, the pillar of God is higher than they : when we look on ourselves, we see cause of fear ; but when v.e "consider the miraculous power of you our leaders, we can- not but contemn those men of measures. Leave us not therefore, but go before us in your directions ; go to God for us in your prayers."
But now contrarily Moses and Aaron fall on their faces to them, and sue to them, that they would be content to be conducted. Had they been suffered to depart, they had perished ; Moses and his few had been, victorious I and yet, as if he could not be happy
corah's conspiracy. 127 without them, he falls on his face to them, that they would stay. We have never so much need to be importuned, as in those things whose beneht should make us most importunate. The sweetness of God's law and our promised glory is such, as should draw all hearts after it ; and yet if we did not sue to men, as for life, that they would be reconciled to God and be saved, I doubt whether they would obey ; yea, it were well, if our suit were sumcient to prevail.
Though Moses and Aaron intreat upon their faces, and Joshua and Caleb persuade and rend their garments, yet they move no- thing. The obstinate multitude, grown more violent with oppo- sing, is ready to return them stones for their prayers. Such have been ever the thanks of fidelity and truth ; crossed wickedness proves desperate, and instead of yielding, seeks for revenge. No- thing is so hateful to a resolute sinner, as good counsel ; we are be- come enemies to the world, because we tell them truth.
That God which was invisibly present while they sinned, vhon they have sinned shews himself glorious. They might have seen him before, that they should not sin ; now they cannot chuse but see him, in the height of their sin. They saw before the pillar of his ordinary presence, now they see him unusually terrible : that they may with shame and horror confess him able to defend, able to revenge. The help of God uses to shew itself in extremity. He, that can prevent evils, conceals his aid, till danger be ripe ; and then he is as fearful, as before he seemed conniving. Num. xiii.
CORAH'S CONSPIRACY.
The tears of Israel were scarce dry, since the smait of their last mutiny, and now they begin another. The multitude is like a raging sea, full of unquiet billows, of discontent, whereof one rises in the fall of another. They saw God did but threaten, and therefore are they bold to sin : it was now high time thfy should know what it is for God to be angry. There was never mch a re- venge taken of Israel \ never any better deserved. When lesser warnings will not serve, God looks into his quiver for deadly ar- rows.
In the mean time, what a weary life did Moses lead, in these con- tinual successions of conspiracies ! What did he gain by this trou- blesome government, but danger and despight r Who but he would not have wished himself rather with the shero of Jethro, than with these wolves of Israel ? But, as he durst not quit his hook, without the calling of God ; so now he dare not his sceptre, except he be dismissed of him that called him ; no troubles, np; oppositions can drive him from his place : we are too weak, if we suiler men to chase us from that station where God lath set us. • I see the Levites, not long since, drawing their sA'ords for God and Moses, against, the rest of Israel ; and that fact wins them both praise and blessing. Now they are the forwardest in the rebellion against Moses and Aaron, men of their own tri.be. There is no as-
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surance of a man for one act : whom one sin cannot fasten upon, another may. Yea, the same sin may find a repulse one while from the same hand , which another, time gives it entertainment; and that yielding loses the thank of all the former resistance. It is no praise to have done once well, unless we continue.
Outward privileges of blood can avail nothing, against a parti- cular calling of God. These Reubenites had the right of the na- tural primogeniture ; yet do they vainly challenge pre-eminence, where God hath subjected them. If all civil honour flow from the king, how much more from the God of kings ! His hand exalts the poor, and casts down the mighty from their throne. The man, tha: will be lifting up himself, in the pride of his heart, from under the foot of God, is justly trodden in the dust.
Moses is the prince of Israel, Aaron the priest; Moses was mild, Aaron popular ; yet both are conspired against : their places are no hss brothers, than their persons. Both are opposed at once. He. that is a traitor to the Church, is a traitor to the king.
Any superiority is a mark of envy. Had Moses and Aaron been but fellows with the Israelites, none had been better beloved ; their dispositions were such, as must needs have forced favour from the indifferent; now they were advanced, their malice is not inferior to their honour. High towers must look for lightnings ; we offer not to undermine but those walls, which we cannot scale. Nature in every man is both envious and disdainful ; and never loves to honoui another, but where it may be an honour to itself.
There cannot be conceived an honour less worth emulation, than this principality of Israel ; a people that coidd give nothing ; a people that had nothing, but in hope ; a people whom their leader was fain to feed with bread and water ; which paid him no tribute but of ill words ; whose command was nothing but a burden ; and yet this cignity was an eye-sore to these Levites and these Reu- benites, Ye take too much upon you, ye sons of' Levi.
And this challenge, though thus unseasonable, hath drawn in twohundied and fifty captains of Israel. What wonder is it, that the ten rucrs prevailed so much with the multitude to dissuade them from Canaan, when three traitors prevailed thus with two hundred and fifty rulers, famous in the congregation, and men of renown ? One man may kindle such a fire, as all the world cannot quench. One plaguc-sore may infect a whole kingdom : the infection of evil is much worse than the act.
It is not lik?, these leaders of Israel could err without followers : he is a mean man that draws not some clients after him. It hath been ever a dangerous policy of Satan, to assault the best : he knows, that the multitude, as we say of bees, will follow their master.
Nothing car: be more pleasing to the vulgar sort, than to hear their governors taxed and themselves flattered. All the congrega- tion is holy, every one of them : Wherefore lift ye up yourselves ? Every word is a falsehood. For Moses dejected himself, Who am I? God lifted him up over Israel ; and so was Israel holy, as Moses was ambitious. What holiness was there in so much infidelity,
corah's conspiracy.
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fear, idolatry, mutiny, disobedience ? What could make them" unclean, if this were holiness ? They had scarce wiped their mouths, or washed their hands, since their last obstinacy ; and yet these pick-thanks say, All Israel is holy.
I would never desire a better proof of a false teacher, than flat- tery ; true meaning need not uphold itself by soothing. There is nothing easier than to persuade men well of themselves : when a man's self-love meets with another's flattery, it is a high praise that will not be believed. It was more out of opposition than belief, that these men plead the holiness of Israel. Violent adversaries, to uphold a side, will maintain those things they believe not.
Moses argues not for himself, but appeals to God ; neither speaks for his own right, but his brother Aaron's. He knew that God's immediate service was worthy to be more precious than his government ; that his princedom served but to the glory of his Master. Good magistrates are more tender over God's honour than their own ; and more sensible of the wrongs offered to religion than to themselves.
It is safest to trust God with his own causes. If Aaron had been chosen by Israel, Moses would have sheltered him under their authority ; now, that God did immediately appoint him, his patron- age is sought, whose the election was. We may easily fault in the managing of divine affairs, and so our want of success cannot want sin ; he knows how to use, how to bless his own means.
As there was a difference betwixt the people and Levites, so be- twixt the Levites and priests. The God of order loves to have our degrees kept. While the Levites would be looking up to the priests, Moses sends down their eyes to the people. The way not to repine at those above us, is to look at those below us. There is no better remedy for ambition, than to cast up our former receipts, and to compare them with our deservirigs, and to confer our own estate with inferiors ; so shall we find cause to be thankful that we are above any, rather than of envy that any is above us.
Moses hath chid the sons of Levi, for mutinying against Aaron ; and so much the more, because they were of his own tribe : now he sends for the Reubenites, which rose against himself. They come not, and their message is worse than their absence. Moses is ac- cused of injustice, cruelty, falsehood, treachery, usurpation; and Egypt itself must be commended, rather than Moses shall want re- proach. Innocency is no shelter from ill tongues : malice never regards how true any accusation is, but how spiteful.
Now it was time for Moses to be angry. They durst not have been thus bold, if they had not seen his mildness. Lenity is ill be- stowed upon stubborn natures : it is an injurious senselessness, not to feel the wounds of our reputation. It well appears he is angry, when he prays against them. He was displeased before ; but when he was most bitter against them, he still prayed for them : but now he bends his very prayers against them ; Look not to their offering. There can be no greater revenge, than the imprseation of the
vol. i. K
130 CONTEMPLATIONS.
righteous ; there can be no greater judgment, than God's rejection or their services. With us men, what more argues dislike of the person, than the turning back of his present ? What will God ac- cept from us, if not prayers ?
The innocence of Moses calls for revenge on his adversaries. If he had wronged them in his government, in vain should he have looked to God's hand for right. Our sins exclude us from God's protection ; whereas uprightness challenges and finds his patron- age. An ass taken had made him incapable of favour. Corrupt governors lose the comfort of their own breast, and the tuition of God.
The same tongue, that pra}Ted against the conspirators, prays for the people. As lewd men think to carry it with number, Corah had so far prevailed, that he had drawn the multitude to his side. God, the avenger of treasons, would have consumed them all at once ; Moses and Aaron pray for their rebels. Although they were worthy of death, and nothing but death could stop their mouths ; yet their merciful leaders will not buy their own peace, with the loss of such enemies. O rare and iniitable mercy ! The people rise up against their governors ; their governors fall on their faces to God for the people ; so far are they from plotting re- venge, that they will not endure God should revenge for them.
Moses knew well enough that all those Israelites must perish in the wilderness ; God had vowed it for their former insurrection ; yet how earnestly doth he sue to God, not to consume them at once ! The very respite of evils is a favour next to the removal.
Corah kindled the fire ; the two hundred and fifty captains brought sticks to it ; all Israel warmed themselves by it ; only the incendiaries perish. Now do the Israelites owe their life to them, whose death they intended. God and Moses knew to distinguish betwixt the heads of the faction and the train ; though neither be faultless, yet the one' is plagued, the other forgiven. God's ven- geance, when it is at the hottest, makes differences of men ; Get you away from about the tabernacles oj Corah. Ever before com- mon judgment there is a separation. In the universal judgment of all the earth, the Judge himself will separate ; in these particu- lar executions, we must separate ourselves. The society of wicked men, especially in their sins, is mortally dangerous : while we will not be parted, how can we complain, if we be enwrapped in their condemnation I Our very company sins with them, why should we not smart with them also ?
Moses had well hoped, that when these rebels should see all the Israelites run from them as from monsters and looking affrighted- ly upon their tents, and should hear that fearful proclamation of vengeance against them, howsoever thev did before set a face on their conspiracy, yet now their hearts would have misgiven : but lo, these hold traitors stand impudently staring in the door of their tents, as if the}- would out-face the revenge of God ; as if Moses had never v\rought miracle before them ; as if no one Israelite had ever hied for rebelling. Those- that shall perish are bunded..,
corah's conspiracy. 131 Pride and infidelity obdure the heart, and make even cowards fearless.
So soon as the innocent are severed, the guilty perish : (he earth cleaves and swallows up the rebels. This element was not used to such morsels. It devours the carcases of men ; but bodies informed with living souls, never before. To have seen them, struck dead upon the earth had been fearful ; but to see the earth at once their executioner and grave was more horrible. Neither the sea, nor the earth is fit to give passage: the sea is moist and flowing, and will not be divided, for the continuity of it ; the earth is dry and massy, and will neither yield naturally, nor meet again when it hath yielded : yet the waters did cleave to give way unto Israel, for their preservation ; the earth did cleave, to give wa)"to the conspirators, in judgment : both sea and earth did shut their jaws again upon the adversaries of God.
There was more wonder in this latter. It was a marvel that the waters opened : it was no w onder that they shut again ; for the retiring and flowing was natural. It was no less marvel, that the earth opened ; but more marvel that it did shut again, because it had no natural disposition to meet when it was divided. Now might Israel see they had to do with a God, that could revenge with ease.
There were two sorts of traitors ; the earth swallowed up the one, the fire the other. All the elements agree to serve the vengeance of their Maker. Nadab and ^bihu brought fit persons, but unfit fire to God ; these Levites bring the right fire, but unwarranted persons before him ; fire from God consumes both. It is a dan- gerous thing to usurp sacred functions. The ministry will not grace the man ; the man may disgrace the ministry.
The common people were not so fast gathered to Corah's flat- tering persuasion before, as now they ran from the sight and fear of his judgment. I marvel not if they could not trust that earth whereon they stood, while they knew their hearts had been false. It is u madness to run away from punishment, and not from sin.
Numb, xmu
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK VII.
TO MY RIGHT HONOURABLE RELIGIOUS AND BOUNTIFUL PATRON,
EDWARD, LORD DENNY,
BARON OF WALTHAM, THE CHIEF COMFORT OF MY LABOURS:
/. H.
WISHETH ALL TRUE HAPPINESS, AND DEDICATES THIS PART OF HIS MEDITATIONS.
AARON'S CENSER AND ROD.
"When shall we see an end of these murmuvings and these judg- ments ? Because these men rose up against Moses and Aaron, therefore God consumed them ; and because God consumed them, therefore the people rise up against Moses and Aaron ; and now, because the people thus murmur, God hath again begun to con- sume them. What a circle is here of sins and judgments ! Wrath is gone out from God ; Moses is quick-sighted, and spies it at the setting out. By how much more faithful and familiar we are with God, so much earlier do we discern his judgments ; as those, which are well acquainted with men, know by their looks and gestures that which strangers understand but by their actions ; as finer tem- pers are more sensible of the changes of weather. Hence the seers of God have ever from their watch-tower descried the judgments of God afar off". If another man had seen from Carmel a cloud of a hand-breadth, he could not have told Ahab he should be wet. It is enough for God's messengers, out of their acquaintance with their Master's proceedings, to foresee punishment : no marvel if those see it not, which are wilfully sinful : we men reveal not our secret purposes either to enemies or strangers : all their favour is to fee] the plague, ere they can espy it.
Moses, though he were great with God, yet he takes not upon him this reconciliation : he may advise Aaron what to do, himself undertakes not to act it ; it is the work of the priesthood to make an atonement for the people. Aaron was first his brothel's tongue
aaron's censer and rod, 133
lo Pharaoh, now he is the people's tongue to God: he only must offer up the incense of the public prayers to God. Who would not think it a small thing to hold a censer in his hand ? yet if any other had done it, he had fallen with the dead, and not stood be- twixt the living and dead ; instead of the smoke ascending, the fire had descended upon him ; and shall there be less use, or less regard, of the evangelical ministry, than the legal ? When the world hath poured out all his contempt, we are they that must re- concile men to God, and without us they perish.
I know not whether more to marvel at the courage or mercy of Aaron ; his mercy, that he would yet save so rebellious a people ; his courage, that he would save them with so great a danger of himself : for, as one that would part a fray, he thrusts himself under the strokes of God ; and puts it to the choice of the revenger, whether he will smite him or forbear the rest. He stands boldly betwixt the living and the dead, as one that will either die with them, or have them live with him. The sight of fourteen hundred carcases dismayed him not. He that before feared the threats of the people, now fears not the strokes of God. It is not for God's mi- nisters, to stand upon their own perils in the common causes of the Church : their prayers must oppose the judgments of the Al- mighty : when the fire of God's anger is kindled, their censers must smoke with fire from the altar. Every Christian must pray the removal of vengeance ; how much more they whom God hath appointed to mediate for his people ! Every man's mouth is his own ; but they are the mouths of all.
Had Aaron thrust in himself with empty hands, I doubt whether he had prevailed j now his censer was his protection : when we eome with supplications in our hands, we need not fear the strokes of God. We have leave to resist the divine judgments by our prayers, with favour and success. So soon as the incense of Aaron ascended up unto God, he smelt a savour of rest : he will rathor spare the offenders, than strike their intercessor. How hardly can any people miscarry, that have faithful ministers to sue for their safety : nothing but the smoke of hearty prayers can cleanse the air from the plagues of God.
If Aaron's sacrifice were thus accepted, how much more shall the High Priest of the New Testament, by interposing himself to .the wrath of his Father, deliver the offenders from death ! The plague was entered upon all the sons of men : O Saviour, thou stoodst betwixt the living and the dead, that all, which believe in thee, should not perish. Aaron offered and was not stricken ; but thou, O Redeemer, wouldst offer and be struck, that by thy stripes we might be healed : so stoodst thou betwixt the dead and living, that thou wert both alive and dead ; and all this that we, when we were dead, might live for ever.
Nothing more troubled Israel, than a fear lest the two brethren houJd cunningly engross the government to themselves; If they had done so, what wise man would have envied them an office so little worth, so dearly purchased ? But because this conceit was
134
CONTEMPLATIONS.
ever apt to stir them to rebellion, and to hinder the benefit of this holv sovereignty, therefore God hath endeavoured nothing more, than to let them see that these officers, whom they so much envied, were of his own proper institution. They had scarce shut their eves, since they saw the confusion of those two hundred and fiftv usurp- ing sacrificers, and Aaron's effectual intercession for staving the plague of Israel. In the one, the execution of God's vengeance upon the competitors of Aaron for his sake, in the other, the for- bearance of vengeance upon the people for Aaron's mediation, might have challenged their voluntary acknowledgment of his just calling from God : if there had been in them either awe or thank- fulness, they could not have doubted of his lawful supremacy. How could they choose but argue thus : " Why would God so fearfully have destroyed the rivals that durst contest with Aaron, if he would have allowed him any equal ? Wherefore serve those plates of the altar, which we see made of those usurped censers, but to warn all posterity of Such presumption ? Why should God cease striking, while Aaron interposed betwixt the living and the dead, if he were but as one of us ? Which of us, if we had stood in the plague, had net added to the heap ?"
Incredulous minds will not be persuaded with an}- evidence. These two brothers had lived asunder forty years ; God makes them both meet in one office of delivering >Israel. One half of the miracles were wrought by Aaron ; he struck with the rod, while it brought those plagues on Egypt. The Israelites heard God call him up by name to Mount Sinai ; they saw him anointed from God ; and, lest they should think this a set match betwixt the brethren, they saw the earth opening, the fire issuing from God upon their emulous opposites ; they saw his smoke a sufficient an- tidote for the plague of God ; and yet still Aaron's calling is ques- tioned. Nothing is more natural to every man than unbelief; but the earth never yielded a people so strongly incredulous as these ; and after so many thousand generations, their children do inherit their obstinacy ; still do they oppose the true High Priest, the Anointed of God : sixteen hundred years desolation hath not drawn from them to confess him whom God hath chosen.
How desirous was God to give satisfaction even to the obstinate ! There is nothing more material, than that men should be assured their spiritual guides have their commission and calling from God : the want whereof is a prejudice to our success. It should not be so; but the corruption of men will not receive good, but from due messengers.
Before, God wrought miracles in the rod of Moses ; now, in the rod of Aaron. As Pharaoh might see himself in Moses's rod ; which, of a rod of defence and protection, was turned into a venomous serpent : so Israel might see themselves in the rod of Aaron. Every tribe and every Israelite was, of himself, as a sere stick, without life, without sap ; and if any one of them had power to live and flourish, he must acknowledge it from the immediate power and gift of God.
aaron's censer and rod. 135
Before God's calling all men are alike : every name is alike writ- ten in their rod ; there is no difference in the letters, in the wood ; neither the characters of Aaron are fairer, nor the staff more pre- cious ; it is the choice of GoJ that makes the distinction : so it is in our calling of Christianity ; all are equally devoid of the possi- bility of grace : all equally lifeless ; by nature we all arc sons of wrath : if we be now better than others, who separated us ? We are all crab stocks in this orchard of God ; he may graft what fruit he pleases upon us, only the grace and effectual calling of God make the difference.
These twelve heads of Israel would never have written their names in their rods, but in hope they might be chosen to this dig- nity. What an honour was this priesthood, whereof all the princes of Israel are ambitious ! If they had not thought it a high prefer- ment, they had never so much envied the office of Aaron. What shall we think of this change ? Is the evangelical ministration of less worth than the levitical ? While the testament is better, is the service worse ? How is it, that the great think themselves too good for this employment ? How is it, that under the Gospel men are disparaged with that which honoured them under the law ; that their ambition and our scorn meet in one subject ?
These twelve rods are not laid up in the several cabinefs of their owners, but are brought forth and laid before the Lord. It is fit God should make choice of his own attendants. Even we men hold it injurious to have servants obtruded upon us by others i never shall that man have comfort in his ministry whom God hath not chosen. The great Commander of the world hath set every man in his station ; to one he hath said, " Stand thou in this tower and watch ;" to another, " Make thou good these trenches ;" to a third, " Dig thou in this mine." He that gives and knows our abilities can best set us on work.
This rod was the pastoral staff of Aaron, the great shepherd of Israel, God testifies his approbation of his charge by the fruit. That a rod cut off from the tree should blossom, it was strange ; but that in one night it should bear buds, blossoms, fruit, and that both ripe and hard, it was highly miraculous. The same power that revives the dead plants of winter, in the spring, doth it here with, out earth, without time, without sun ; that Israel might see and grant, it was no reason his choice should be limited, whose power is unlimited.
Fruitfulness is the best argument of the calling of God : not only all the plants of his setting, but the very boughs cut off from the body of them, will flourish. And that there may not want a succession of increase, here are fruit, blossoms, buds ; both proof and hope inseparably mixed.
It could not but be a great comfort, unto Aaron, to see his rod thus miraculously flourishing ; to see this wonderful testimony of God's favour and election : sure he could not but think, ," Who am I, O God, that thou shouldst thus choose me out of all the tribes of Israel ? My weakness hath been more worthy of thy rod
135 CONTEMPLATIONS.
of correction, than my rod hath been worthy of these blossoms. How hast thou magnified me in the sight of ail thy people ! How- able art thou to uphold my imbecility with the rod of thy support, how able to defend me with the rod of thy power, who hast thus brought fruit out of the sapless rod of my profession !" That ser- vant of God is worthy to faint, that holds it not a sufficient en- couragement, to see the evident proofs of his Master's favour.
Commonly, those fruits, which are soon ripe, soon wither ; but these almonds of Aaron's rod are not more early, than lasting : the same hand, which brought them out before their time, pre- served them beyond their time ; and for perpetual memory, both rod and fruit must be kept in the ark of God. The tables of Moses, the rod of Aaron, the manna of God, are monuments fit for so holy a shrine. The Doctrine, Sacraments, and Government of God's people, are precious to him, and must be so to men. All times shall see and wonder, how his ancient Church was fed, taught, ruled. Moses's rod did great miracles, yet I find it not in the ark. The rod of Aaron hath this privilege, because it car- ried the miracle still in itself ; whereas the wonders of that other rod were passed. Those monuments would God have continued in his Church, which carry in them the most manifest evidences of that wnich they import.
The same God, which by many transient demonstrations had approved the calling of Aaron to Israel, will now have a permanent memorial of their conviction ; that whensoever they should see this relic, they should be ashamed of their presumption and infi- delity. The name of Aaron was not more plainly written in that rod, than the sin of Israel was in the fruit of it ; and how much Israel finds their rebellion beaten with this rod, appears in their present relenting and complaint ; Behold, v:e are dead, we perish. God knows how to pull down the biggest stomach, and can extort glory to his own name from the most obstinate gainsay ers.
Num. xvi. xvii.
THE BRAZEN SERPENT.
Seven times already hath Israel mutinied against Moses, and seven times hath either been threatened or punished ; yet now they fall to it afresh. As a testy man finds occasion to chafe at every trifle, so this discontented people either find or make all things trouble- some. One while they have no water ; then bitter : one while no God ; then one too many : one while no bread ; then bread enough, but too light : one while they will not abide their governors ; then they cannot abide their loss, Aaron and Miriam were never so grudged alive, as they are bewailed dead. Before, they wanted onions, garlick, flesh-pots ; now they want figs, vines, pomegra- nates, corn. And as crabbed children that cry for every thing they can think of, are whipped by their wise mother, so God justly serves these fond Israelites.
It was first their way that makes them repine, They were fain
THE BRAZEN SERPENT.
137
to go round about Idumea ; the journey was long and trouble- some. They had sent entreaties to Edom for licence of passage the next way, reasonably, submissively ; it was churlishly denied them. Esau lives still in his posterity ; Jacob, in Israel : the com- bat which they began in Rebecca's belly is not yet ended. Ama- lek, which was one limb of Esau, follows them at the heels ; the Edomite, which was another, meets them in the face : so long as there is a world, there will be opposition to the chosen of God. They may come at their peril ; the way had been nearer, but bloody ; they dare not go it, and yet complain of length.
If they were afraid to purchase their resting place with war, how much less would they their passage ! What should God do with impatient men ? They will not go the nearest way, and yet complain to go about. He, that will pass to the promised land, must neither stand upon length of way nor difficulty. Every way hath its inconveniencies ; the nearest hath more danger, the far- thest hath more pain ; cither or both must be oA'ercome, if ever we will enter the rest of God.
Aaron and Miriam were now past the danger of their mutinies ; for want of another match, they join God with Moses, in their murmurings : though they had not mentioned him, they could not sever him in their insurrection ; for, in the causes of his own ser- vants, he challenges even when lie is not challenged. What will become of thee, O Israel, when thou makest thy Maker thine ene- my ? Impatience is the cousin to frenzy ; this causes men not to care upon whom they run, so they may breathe out some revenge. How often have we heard men that have been displeased by others, tear the name of their Maker in pieces ! He, that will judge, and can confound, is fetched into the quarrel without cause. But if to strive with a mighty man be unwise and unsafe, what shall it be to strive with the mighty God ?
As an angry child casts away that which is given him, because he hath not that he would, so do these foolish Israelites : their bread is light and their water unsatisfying, because their way dis- pleased them. Was ever people fed with such bread or water ? Twice hath the very rock yielded them water, and every day the heaven affords them bread. Did any one soul amongst them mis- carry, cither for hunger or thirst ? But no bread will down with them, save that which the earth yields ; no water but from the na- tural wells or rivers. Unless nature may be allowed to be her own carver, she is never contented.
Manna had no fault, but that it was too good and too frequent : the pulse of Egypt had been fitter for these coarse mouths. This heavenly bread was unspeakably delicious ; it tasted like wafers of honey; and yet even this angels' food is contemned. He that is full despiscth a honeycomb. How sweet and delicate is the Gos- pel ! Not only the fathers of the Old Testament, but the angels, desired to look into the glorious mysteries of it ; and yet we are cloyed. This supernatural food is too light: the bread-corn of our human reason, and profound discourse, would better content us.
13S CONTEMPLATIONS.
Moses will not revenge this wrong, God will ; yet will he not deal with them himself, but he sends the fiery serpents to answer for him : how fitly I Thev had carried themselves like serpents to their gover- nors ; how often had thev stung Moses and Aaron, near to death ! If the serpent bite when he is not charmed, no better is a slanderer. Now these venomous adders revenge it, which are therefore called fiery because their poison scalded to death : God hath a hand in the annovance and hurt of the basest creature ; how much less can the sting of an ill tongue, or the malice of an ill spirit, strike us without him! While they were in Goshen, the frogs, lice, cater- pillars spared them, and plagued the Egyptians ; now they are re- bellious in the desert, the serpents find them out and sting them to death. He, that brought the quails thither to feed them, fetches these serpents thither to punish them. While we are at war with God, we can look for no peace with his creatures : every thing rejoices to execute the vengeance of his Maker. The stones of the field will not be in league with us, while we are not in league with Go d.
These men, when the spies liad told them news of the giants of Canaan, a little before had wished, l\ oidd God -ce were dead in this wilderness : now God hath heard their prayers, what with the plague, what with the serpents, many thousands of them died. The ill wishes of our impatience are many times heard. As those good things are not granted us, which we pray for (without care ; so those evds, which we prav for and would not have, are often granted. The ears of God are not onlv open to the prayers of faith, but to the imprecations of infidelity. It is dangerous wishing evil to ourselves or ours: it is just with God to take us at our word, and to effect that which our lips speak against our heart.
Before, God hath ever consulted with Moses, and threatened eie he punished ; now he strikes, and says nothing. The anger is so much more, bv how much less notified. When God is not heard before he is felt, (as in the hewing of wood, the blow is not heard till the axe be seen to have struck) it is a fearful sign of dis- pleasure : it is with God as with us men, that still revenges are ever most dangerous. Till now all was well enough with Israel, and yet thev grudged: those, that will complain without a cause, shall have cause to complain lor something. Discontented hu- mours seldom escape unpunished, but receive that most justly whereat they repined unjustly.
Now the people are glad to seek to Moses unbidden. Ever heretofore they have been wont to be sued to, and entreated for without their own entreaty ; now their misery makes them impor- tunate : there needs no solicitor, where there is sense of smart. It were pity men should want affliction, since it sends them to their pravers and confesMons. All the persuasions of Moses could not do that, which the serpents have done for him. O God, thou seest how neccssarv it is we should be stung sometimes, else we should run wild, and never come to a sound humiliation : we should never seek thee, if thy hand did not find us out.
OF BALAAM.
139
They had spoken against God and Moses, and now they hum- bly speak to Moses that he would pray to God for them. He, that so often prayed for them unbidden, cannot but much more do it requested ; and now obtains the means of their cure. It was equally in the power of God to remove the serpents, and to heal their stinging ; to have cured the Israelites by his word, and by his sign : but he finds it best for his people (to exercise their faith) that the serpents may bite, and their bitings may envenom, and that this venom may endanger the Israelites ; and that they, thus affected, may seek to him for remedy, and seeking may find it from such means as should have no power but in signification ; that while their bodies were cured by the sign, their souls might be confirmed by the matter signified. A serpent of brass could no more heal than sting them. What remedy could their eyes give to their legs ? Or what could a serpent of cold brass prevail against a living and fiery serpent ? In this troublesome desert we are all stung by that fiery and old serpent : O Saviour, it is to theo we must look, and be cured ; it is thou that wert their paschal lamb, their manna, their rock, their serpent. To all purposes dost thou vary thyself to thy Church, that we may find thee every where : thou art for our nourishment, refreshing, cure ; as hereafter, so even now, all in all.
This serpent, whicli was appointed for cure to Israel, at last stings them to death, by idolatrous abuse. What poison there is in idolatry, that makes even antidotes deadly ! As Moses therefore raised this serpent, so Hezekiah pulled it down : God commanded the raising of it, God approved the demolishing of it. Super- stitious use can mar the very institutions of God ; how much more the most wise and well-'>rounded dev ices of men ! jVww. xci.
OF BALAAM.
Moab and Midian had been all this while standers by and lookers on. If they had not seen the pattern of their own ruin in these neighbours, it had never troubled them, to see the kings of the Amorites and Bashan to fall before Israel. Had not the Israelites camped in the plains of Moab, their victories had been no eye- sore to Balac. Wicked men never care to observe God's judg- ments till themselves be touched : the fire of a neighbour's house would not so affect us, if it were not with the danger of our own : secure minds never startle till God come home to their very senses.
Balac and his Moabites had wit enough to fear, not wit enough to prevent judgment : they see an enemy in then; borders, and yet take no right course for their safety. Who would not have looked, that they should have come to Israel with conditions of peace I Or why did they not think, " Either Israel's God is stronger than ours, or he is not. If he be not, why are we afraid of him ? If he be, why do we not serve him ? The same hand, which gives them victory, can give us protection." Carnal men, that are se- cure of the vengeance of God ere it do come, are mastered with
I4d
CONTEMPLATIONS.
it when it doth come ; and not knowing which way to turn them,
run forth at the wrong- door.
The Midianites join with the Moabites in consultation, in action, against Israel : one would have thought, they should have looked for favour from Moses for .Tethro's sake, which was both a prince of their country, and father-in-law to Moses ; and either now, or not long before, was with Israel in the wilderness. Neither is it like, but that Moses having found forty years harbour amongst them, would have been (what he might) inclinable to favourable treaties with them ; but now they are so fast linked to Moab, that they will either sink or swim together. Entireness with wicked consorts is one of the strongest cnains of hell, and binds us to a participation both of sin and punishment : an easy occasion will knit wicked hearts together in conspiracy against the Church of God.
Their errand is devilish, Come, curse Israel: that which Satan could not do by the swords of Og and Sehon, he will now try to effect by the tongue of Balaam. If either strength or policy would prevail against God's Church, it could not stand. And why should not we be as industrious to promote the glory of God, and bend both our hands and heads to the causes of the Almighty ? When all helps fail Moab, the magician is sought to. It is a sign of a desperate cause, to make Satan either our counsellor, or our refuge.
Why did they not send to Balaam to bless themselves, rather than to curse Israel ? It had been more easy to be defended from the hurt of their enemies, than to have their enemies laid open to be hurt by them. Pride and malice did not care so much for safety, as for conquest ; it would not content them to escape Israel, if Is- rael mav escape them ; it was not thank-worthy to save their own blood, if they did not spill the blood of others ; as if their own prosperity had been nothing, if Israel also prospered. If there be one project worse than another, a wicked heart will find it out : nothing but destruction will content the malicious.
I know not whether Balaam were more famous, or Balac more confident. If the king had not been persuaded of the strength of his charm, he had not sent so far, and paid so dear for it : now he trusts more to his enchantment, than to the forces of Moab and Midian ; and, as if heaven and earth were in the power of a charm- er's tongue, he saith, He that thou blessest is blessed; and he whom thou cursest is cursed. Magic, through the permission of God, is powerful ; for whatsoever the devil can do, the magician may do ; but it is madness to think either of them omnipotent. If either the curses of men, or the endeavours of the powers of darkness, should be effectual, all would be hell. No, Balac : so short is the power of thy Balaam, that neither thou, nor thy pro- phet himself can avoid that curse, which thou wouldst have brought upon Israel. Had Balaam been a true prophet of God, this bold assurance had been but just. Both those ancient seers and the prophets of the Gospel, have the ratification of God in heaven to their sentences on earth. Why have wc less care of the bless-
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ings, and less fear of the curses and censures of God's ministers ? Who would not rather have Elisha's guard, than both the kings of Israel and Assyria ? Me himself, as he had the angelical chariots and horsemen about him, so was he the chariots and horsemen of Israel. Why should our faith be less strong than superstition ? Or why should God's agents have less virtue than Satan's ?
I should wonder to hear God speak with a false prophet, if I did not know, it hath been no rare thing with him (as with men) to bestow words, even where he will not hestow favour. Pharaoh, Abimelcch, Nebuchadnezzar, receive visions from God : neither can I think this strange, when I hear God speaking to Satan in a question no less familiar than this of Balaam, Whence contest thout Satan ? Not the sound of the voice of God, but the matter which he speaks argues love : he may speak to an enemy ; he speaks peace to none but his own. It is a vain brag, " God hath spoken to me ;" so may he do to reprobates or devils. But what said he ? Did he ?ay to my soul, I am thy salvation? Hath he indented with me that he will be my God, and I shall be his I I cannot hear this voice, and not live.
God heard all the consultation and message of these Moabites : these messengers could not have moved their foot or their tongue but in him ; and yet he, which asked Adam where he was, asks Balaam, What men arc these t I have ever seen, that God loves to take occasion of proceeding with us from ourselves, rather than from his own immediate prescience. Hence it is, that we lay open our wants, and confess our sins, to him that knows both better than our own hearts, because he will deal with us from our own mouths.
The prevention of God forbids both his journey and his curse : and what if he had been sull'ered to go and curse ? What corn had this wind shaken, when God meant to bless them ? How many bulls have bellowed out execrations against this Church of God ? What are we the worse ? Yet I doubt, if we had been so much blessed, had not those Balaamitish curses been spent upon us. He that knows what waste wind the causeless curses of wicked men are, yet will not have Balaam curse Israel ; bec ause he will not allow Balac so much encouragement in his opposition, as the conceit of this help. Or perhaps, if Balac: thought this sorcerer a true prophet, God would not have his name, so much as in the opinion of the heathen, scandalized, in usurping it to a purpose which he meant not should succeed.
The hand of God is in the restraint of many evils, which we never knew to be towards us. The Israelites sat still in their tents ; they little thought what mischief was brewing against them : with- out ever making them of counsel, God crosses the designs of their enemies. He, that keepeth Israel, is both a sure and a secret friend.
The reward of the divination had easily commanded the jour- ney and curse of the covetous prophet, if God had not stayed him. Hosy oft are wicked men curbed by a divine hand, even
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in those sins which their heart stands to ! It is no thank to lewd men, that their wickedness is not prosperous. Whence is it, that the world is not over-run with evil, hut from this ; that men can- not be so ill as they would ?
The first entertainment of this message would make a stranger think Balaam wise and honest ; he will not give a sudden answer, but craves leisure to consult with God, and promises to return the answer he shall receive. Who would not sav, " This man is free from rashness, from partiality ?" Dissimulation is craft}-, and able to deceive thousands. The words arc good : when he comes to action, the fraud bewrays itself; for, both he insinuates his own forwardness, and casts the blame of the prohibition upon God, and, which is worse, delivers but halt his answer: he savs indeed, God refuses to give me leave to go ; he says not, as it was, He charges me not to curse them, for thay are blessed. So did Balaam deny, as one that wished to be sent for again. Perhaps a peremptory refusal had hindered his further solicitation. Con- cealment of some truths is sometimes as faulty as a denial. True fidelity is not niggardly in her relations.
Where wickedness meets with power, it thinks to command all the world, and takes great scorn of anv repulse. So little is Balac discouraged with one refusal, that he sends so much the stronger message; More princes, and more honourable. Oh that we could be so importunate for our good, as wicked men are for the compassing of their own designs ! A denial doth but whet the desires of vehement suitors. Why are we faint in spiritual things, when we are not denied, but delayed ?
Those, which are themselves transported with vanity and am- bition, think that no heart hath power to resist these offers. Balac's princes thought they had struck it dead, when they had once mentioned promotion to great honour. Self-love makes them think they cannot be slaves, while others may be free ; and that all the world would be glad to run on madding after their bait. Nature thinks it impossible to contemn honour and wealth ; and because too many souls are thus taken, cannot believe that any would escape. But let carnal hearts know, that there are those who can spit the world in the face, and say, Thy gold and silver perish with thee ; and that, in comparison of a good conscience, can tread under foot his best proffers, like shadows, as they are ; and that can do as Balaam said.
How near truth and falsehood can lodge together ! Here was piety in the lips", and covetousness in the heart. Who can any more regard good words, that hears Balaam speak so like a saint ? A houseful of gold and silver may not pervert his tongue, his heart is won with less ; for if he had not already swallowed the reward, and found it sweet, why did he again solicit God, in that which was peremptorily denied him ? If his mind had not been bribed already, why did he stay the messengers ? why did he expect a change in God? why was he willing to feed them with Lope of success, which hud fed him with hope of rccoinpence ?
OF BALAAM. 143
One prohibition is enough for a good man. While the delay of God doth but hold us in suspense, importunity is holy and sea- sonable ; but when once he gives a resolute denial, it is profane sauciness to solicit him. When we ask what we are bidden, our suits are not more vehement than welcome; but when we beg prohibited favours, our presumption is troublesome and abomi- nable : no good heart will endure to be twice forbidden.
Yet this importunity hath obtained a permission ; but a per- mission worse than a denial. I heard God say before, Go not, nor curse them; now he says, Go, but curse not ; anon, he is angry that he did go. Why did he permit that which he forbad, if he be angry for doing that which he permitted ? Some things God permits with an indignation ; not for that he gives leave to the act, but that he gives a man over to his sin in the act ; this suf- ferance implies not favour, but judgment : so did God bid Balaam to go, as Solomon bids the young man follow the ways of his own heart. It is one thing to like, another thing to suffer : Moses never approved those legal divorces, yet he tolerated them : God never liked Balaam's journey, yet he displeasedly gives way to it ; as if he said, "Well, since thou art so hot, set on this journey, be gone." And thus Balaam took it ; else, when God after pro- fessed his displeasure for the journey, it had been a ready answer, " Thou commandedst me ;" but herein his confession argues his guilt. Balaam's suit and Israel's quails had both one fashion of grant ; in . nger. How much better is it, to have gracious denials, than angry yieldings !
A small persuasion heartens the willing : it booted not to bid the covetous prophet hasten to his way. Now he makes himself sure of success. His corrupt heart tells him, that, as God had relented in his licence to go, so he might perhaps in his licence to curse; and he saw how this curse might bless him with abundance of wealth : he rose up early therefore, and saddled his ass. The night seemed long to his forwardness. Covetous men need neither clock nor bell to awaken them; their desires make them restless. Oh that we could with as much eagerness seek the true riches, which only can make us happy !
We, that see only the outside of Balaam, may marvel, why he that permitted him to go, afterward opposes his going ; but God, that saw his heart, perceived what corrupt affections carried him: he saw, that his covetous desires and wicked hopes grew the strong;-!-, the nearer he came to his end: an angel is therefore stmt to with-hold the hasty sorcerer. Our inward disposition is the life of our actions ; according to that doth the God of Spirits judge us, while men censure according to our external motions. To go at all, when God had commanded to stay, was presumptu- ous; but to go with a desire to curse, made the act doubly sinful, and hitched an angel to resist it. It is one of the worthy employ- ments of good angels, to make secret opposition to evil designs : many a wicked act have they hindered, without the knowledge of the agent. It is all one with the Almighty, to work by spirits" and
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men ; it is therefore our glory to be thus set on work : to stop the course of evil, either by dissuasion or violence, is an angelical service.
In what danger are wicked men that have God's angels their opposites I The devil moved him to go ; a good angel resists him. If a heavenly spirit stand in the way of a sorcerer's sin, how much more ready are all those spiritual powers, to stop the miscarriages of God's dear children ! How often had we fallen yet more, if these guardians had not upheld us ; whether by re- moving occasions, or by casting in good instincts ! As our good endeavours are often hindered by Satan, so are our evil by good angels ; else were not our protection equal to our danger, and we could neither stand nor rise.
It had been as easy for the angel to strike Balaam, as to stand in nis way ; and to have followed him in his starting aside, as to stop him in a narrow path : but even the good angels have their stints in their executions. God had somewhat more to do with the tongue of Balaam, and therefore he will not have him slain, but withstood ; and so withstood, that he shall pass. It is not so much glory to God, to take away wicked men, as to use their evil to his own holy purposes. How soon could the Commander of heaven and earth rid the world of bad members ! But so should he lose the praise of working good by evil instruments. It sufficeth that the angels of God resist their actions, while their persons continue.
That no man may marvel to see Balaam have visions from God and utter prophecies from him, his very ass hath his eyes opened to see the angel, whicli his master could not, and his mouth opened to speak more reasonably than his master. There is no beast de- serves so much wonder as this of Balaam, whose common sense is advanced above the reason of his rider ; so as for the time the pro- phet is brutish, and the beast prophetical. Who can but stand amazed at the eye, at the tongue of this silly creature ? For so dull a sight, it was much to see a bodily object that were not too apparent, but to see that spirit which his rider discerned not was far beyond nature. To hear a voice come from that mouth, which was used only to bray, it was strange and uncouth ; but to hear a beast, whose nature is noted for incapacity, to outreason his master, a professed prophet, is in the very height of miracles : yet can no heart stick at these, that considers the dispensation of the Almighty in both. Our eve could no more see a beast, than a beast can sec an angel, if he had not given this power to it. How easy is it for him that made the eye of man and beast, to dim or enlighten it at his pleasure ! and if his power can make the very stones to speak, how much more a creature of sense ! That evil spirit spake in the serpent to our first parents ; why is it more that a spirit should speak in the mouth of a beast r How ordinarily did the heathen receive their oracles out of stones and trees ! Do not we ourselves teach birds to speak those sentences they understand not ? We may wonder, we cannot distrust, when we compare the act with the Author ; which can as easily create a voice without a body, as
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a body without a voice. Who now can hereafter plead his simpli- city and dulness of apprehending spiritual things, when he sees how God exalts the eyes of a beast, to see a spirit ? Who can be proud of seeing visions, since an angel appeared to a beast ? Nei- ther was his skin better after it than others of his kind. Who can complain of his own rudeness and inability to reply in a good cause, when the very beast is enabled by God to convince his master ? There is no mouth into which God cannot put words ; and how often doth he choose the weak and unwise to confound the learned and mighty !
What had it been better for the ass to see the angel, if he had rushed still upon his sword ? Evils were as good not seen, as not avoided ; but now he declines the way, and saves his burthen. It were happy for perverse sinners, if they could learn of this beast, to run away from foreseen judgments. The revenging angel stands before us ; and though we know we shall as sure die as sin, yet we have not the wit or grace to give back ; though it be with the hurt of a foot to save the body ; with the pain of the body to save the soul.
I see, what fury and stripes the impatient prophet bestows upon this poor beast, because he will not go on ; yet if he had gone on, himself had perished. How often do we wish those things, the not obtaining whereof is mercy ! We grudge to be staid in the way to death, and fly upon those which oppose our perdition.
I do not (as who would not expect) see Balaam's hair stand up- right, nor himself alighting, and appalled at this monster of mira- cles ; but, as if no new thing had happened, he returns words to the beast, full of anger, void of admiration ; whether his trade of sorcering had so inured him to receive voices from his familiars, in shape of beasts, that this event seemed not strange to him ; or, whether his rage and covetousness had so transported him, that he had no leisure to observe the unnatural unusualness of the event. Some men make nothing of those things, which overcome others with horror and astonishment.
I hear the angel of God taking notice of the cruelty of Balaam to his beast : his first words to the unmerciful prophet are in expos- tulating of his wrong. We little think it, but God shall call us to an account for the unkind and cruel usages of his poor mute crea- tures. He hath made us lords, not tyrants ; owners, not tormen- ters : he, that hath given us leave to kill them for our use, hath not given us leave to abuse them at our pleasure ; they are so our drudges, that they are our fellows by creation. It was a sign the magician would easily wish to strike Israel with a curse, when he wished a sword to strike his harmless beast. It is ill falling into those hands, whom beasts find unmerciful.
Notwithstanding these rubs Balaam goes on, and is not afraid to ride on that beast, whose voice he had heard ; and now, posts are sped to Balac with the news of so welcome a yuest. He, that sent
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princes to fetch him, comes himself on the way to meet him : al- though he can say, Am not I able to promote thee ? yet he gives tli is high respect to him as his better, from whom he expected the promotion of himself and his people. Oh the honour that hath been formerly done by heathens, to them that have borne but the face of prophets ! I shame ard grieve to compare the times and men : only, O God, be thou merciful to the contempt of thy ser- vants.
As if nothing needed but the presence of Balaam, the supersti- tious king (out of the joy of his hope) feasts his gods, his prophet, his princes •, and on the morrow carries him up to the high places of his idol. Who can doubt whether Balaam were a false prophet, that sees him sacrificing in the mount of Baal ? Had he been from the true God, he would rather have said, " Pull me down these altars of Baal," than " Build me here seven others." The very place convinces him of falshood and idolatry ; and why seven al- tars ? What needs all this pomp ? When the true God never re- quired but one at once, as himself is one ; why doth the false pro- phet call for no less than seven ? as if God stood upon numbers ? as if the Almighty would have his power either divided or limited ? Here is nothing but a glorious and magnificent pretence of devo- tion. It hath been ever seen, that the false worshippers of God have made more pompous shews, and fairer flourishes of their piety and religion, than the true.
Now when Balaam sees his seven bullocks and seven rams smoking upon his seven altars, he goes up higher into the mount (as some counterfeit Moses), to receive the answer of God. But will God meet with a sorcerer ? Will he make a prophet of a magician ? O man, who shall prescribe God what instruments to use ? he knows how to employ, not only saints and angels, but wicked men, beasts, devils, to his own glory: he, that put words into the mouth of the ass, puts words into the mouth of Balaam : the words do but pass from him; they are not polluted, because they are not his ; as the trunk, through which a man speaks, is not more eloquent for the speech that is uttered through it. What a notable proclamation had the infidels wanted of God's favour to his people, if Balaam's tongue had not been used ! How many ahall once say, Lord, zee have prophesied in thy name, that shall hear, Verily I know you not !
What madness is this in Balaam? He, that found himself con- stant in soliciting, thinks to find God not constant in denying ; and, as if that infinite Deity were not the same everywhere, hopes to change success with places. Neither is that bold forehead ashamed to importune God again in that, wherein his own mouth had testi- fied an assurance of denial. The reward was in one of his eyes, the revenrnnsr angel in the other : I know not whether, for the time, he more loved the bribe, or feared the angel. And whilst he is in this distraction, his tongue blesses against his heart, and his heart curses against his tongue. It angers him that he dare not
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speak what he would ; and now at last rather than lose his hopes, lie resolves to speak worse than curses. The fear of God's judg- ments in a worldly heart is at length overcome with the love of gain. • Numb, xxii, xxw, xxiv.
OF PHINEAS.
Balaam pretended a haste homeward; but he lingered so long that he left his bones in Midian. How justly did he perish with the sword of Israel, whose tongue had insensibly slain so many thousands of them ! As it is usually said of the devil, that he goes away in a stench, so may it be truly said of this prophet of his : according to the fashion of all hypocrites, his words were good, his actions abominable : he would not curse, but he would advise, and his counsel is worse than a curse ; for his curse had hurt none but himself, his counsel cost the blood of twenty-four thousand Is- raelites.
He, that had heard God speak by Balaam, would not look for the devil in the same mouth ; and if God himself had not wit- nessed against him, who could believe that the same tongue which uttered so divine prophecies, should utter so villanous and cursed advice ? Hypocrisy gains this of men, that it may do evil unsus- pected : but now he, that heard what he spake in Balac's ear, hath bewrayed and condemned his counsel and himself.
This policy was fetched from the bottom of hell. " It is not for lack of desire that I curse not Israel : thou dost not more wish their destruction, than I do thy wealth and honour ; but so long as they hold firm with God, there is no sorcery against Jacob ; with- draw God from them, and they shall fall alone, and curse them- selves ; draw them into sin, and thou shalt withdraw God from them. There is no sin more plausible than wantonness. One forni- cation shall draw in another, and both shall fetch the anger of God after them : send your fairest women into their tents, their sight shall draw them to lust, their lust to folly, their folly to idolatry ; and now God shall curse them for thee, unasked." Where Balaam did speak well, there was never any prophet spake more divinely; where he spake ill, there was never any devil spake more despe- rately.
Ill counsel seldom succeedeth not : good seed falls often out of the way, and roots not, but the tares never light amiss. This pro- ject of the wicked magician was too prosperous. Tire daughters of Moab come into the tents of Israel, and have captived those whom the Amorites and Amalckitcs could not resist. Our first mother Eve bequeathed this dowry to her daughters, that they should be our helpers to sin : the weaker sex is the stronger in this conquest: had the Moabites sent their subtlest counsellors, to per- suade the Israelites to their idol sacritices, they had been repelled, with scorn ; but now the beauty of their women is over-eloquent and successful. That which in the first world betrayed the sons of God, hath now ensnared God's people : it had been happy for
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Israel, if Balaam had used any charms but these. As it is the use of God to fetch glory to himself out of the worst actions of Satan, so it is the guise of that evil one (through the just permission of the Almighty) to raise advantage to himself from the fairest pieces of the workmanship of God : no one means hath so much enriched hell, as beautiful faces.
All idols are abominable ; but this of Baal-peor was, besides the superstition of it, beastly ; neither did Baal ever put on a form of so much shame, as this ; yet very Israelites are drawn to adore it. When lust hath blinded the eyes, it carries a man whither it lists ; even beyond all differences of sin. A man besotted with filthy de- sires is fit for any villany.
Sin is no less crafty than Satan himself : give him but room in fhe eye, and he will soon be possessed of body and soul. These Israelites first saw the faces of these Moabites and Midianites ; then they grew to like their presence ; from thence to take plea- sure in their feasts : from their boards they are drawn to their beds, from their beds to their idols, and now they are joined to Baal-peor, and separated from God. Bodily fornication is the way to spiritual : if we have made idols of flesh, it is just to be given up to idols of wood and stones. If we have not grace to re- sist the beginnings of sin, where shall we stay ? If our foot slip into the mouth of hell, it is a miracle to stop ere we come to the bottom.
Well might God be angry, to see his people go a whoring in this doiible fornication ; neither doth he smother his wrath, but himself strikes with his plague, and bids Moses strike with the sword. He strikes the body, and bids Moses strike the head. It had been as easy for him to plague the rulers as the vulgar, and one would think these should be more properly reserved for his immediate hand ; but these he leaves to the sword of human authority, that he might win awe to his own ordinances. As the sins of great men are exemplary, so are their punishments. Nothing procures so much credit to government, as strict and impartial executions of great and noble offenders. Those whom their sins have embased deserve no favour in the punishment. As God knows no honour, no royalty in matter of sin, no more may his deputies. Contrarily, connivance at the outrages of the mighty cuts the sinews of any *tate ; neither doth any thing make good laws more contemptible, than the making difference of offenders ; that small sacrileges should be punisned, when great ones ride in triumph. If good ordinations turn once to spiders' webs, which are broken through by • the bigger flies, no hand will fear to sweep them down.
God was angry; Moses and all good Israelites grieved; the heads hanged up ; the people plagued : yet behold, one of the princes of Israel fears not to brave God and his ministers, in that sin which he sees so grievously revenged in others. I can never wonder enough at the impudence of this Israelite. Here is forni- cation, an odious crime, and that of an Israelite, whose name chal- lenges holiness ; yea, of a prince of Israel, whose practice is a rule
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to Inferiors ; and that with a woman of Midian, with whom even a chaste contract had been unlawful ; and that with contempt of all government ; and that in the face of Moses and all Israel ; and that in a time of mourning, and judgment for that same offence. Those that have once passed the bounds of modesty soon grow shameless in their sins. While sin hides itself in corners, there is yet hope ; for, where there is shame, there is a possibility of grace ; but when once it dare look upon the sun, and send challenges to authority, the case is desperate, and ripe for judgment.
This great Simeonite thought he might sin by privilege ; he goes, as if he said, " Who dares control me f" His nobility hath raised him above the reach of correction. Commonly, the sins of the mighty are not without presumption, and therefore their vetir geance is no less than their security ; and their punishment is so much greater, as their conceit of impunity is greater.
All Israel saw this bold lewdness of Zimri, but their hearts and eyes were so full of grief, that they had not room enough for in- dignation. Phineas looked on with the rest, but with other affec- tions. When he saw this defiance bidden to God, and this insulta- tion upon the sorrow of his people, that while they were wringing their hands, a proud miscreant durst outface their humiliation with his wicked dalliance ; his heart boils with a desire of a holy re- venge ; and now that hand, which was used to a censer and sacri- ficing knife, takes up his javelin, and with one stroke ioins these two bodies in their death, which were joined in their sin ; and, in the very flagrance of their lust, makes a new way for their souls to their own place.
O noble and hcroical courage of Phineas ! which, as it was re, warded of God, so is worthy to be admired of men. He doth not stand casting of scruples : " Who am I to do this ? the son of the high priest ; my place is all for peace and mercy ; it is for me to sacrifice, and pray for the sin of the people, not to sacrifice any of the people for their sin, My duty calls me to appease the anger of God, what I may, not to revenge the sins of men ; to pray for their conversion, not to work the confusion of any sinner. And who aro these ? Is not the one a great prince in Israel, the other a princess of Midian ? Can the death of two so famous persons go unre- versed ? Or if it be safe and fit, why doth my uncle Moses rather shed his own tears, than their blood ? I will mourn with the rest ; let them revenge whom it concerneth." But the zeal of God hath barred out all weak deliberations ; and he holds it now both his duty and his glory, to be an executioner of so shameless a pair of offenders.
God loves this heat of zeal, in all the carriages of his servants ; and if it transport us too far, he pardoneth the errors of our fer- vency, rather than the indifferences of lukewarmness. A these two were more beasts, than any that ever he sacrificed, so the shedding of their blood was the acceptablest sacrifice, that ever he offered unto God ; for both all Israel is freed from the plague, and all his posterity have the priesthood entailed to them, so long as the Je\ya
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were a people. Next to our prayers, there is no better sacrifice than the blood of malefactors ; not as it is theirs, but as it is shed by authority. Governors are faulty of those sins they punish not. There can be no better sight in any state, than to see a malefactor at the gallows. It is not enough for us to stand gazing upon the wickedness of the times (yea, although with tears) unless we endea- vour to redress it : especially public persons carry not their javelin in their hand for nought.
Every one is ready to ask Phineas for his commission ; and those, that are willing to salve up the act, plead extraordinary instinct from God, who, no doubt, would not have accepted that which himself wrought not. But what need I run so far for this warrant, when I hear God say to Moses, Hang up all the heads of Israel ; and Moses say to the under-rulers, every one slay his men that are joined to Baal-Peor ? Every Israelite is now made a magistrate for his execution ; and why not Phineas amongst the rest ? Doth his priesthood exempt him from the blood of sinners ? How then doth Samuel hew Agag in pieces ? Even those may make a carcase, which may not touch it. And if Levi got the priesthood, by shedding the blood of idolaters, why may it not stand with that priesthood, to spill the blood of a fornicator and idolater? Ordinary justice will bear out Phineas in this act : it is not for every man to challenge this office, which this double proclamation allowed to Phineas. All that private persons can do, is either to lift up their hands to heaven for redress of sin, or to lift up their hands against the sin, not against the person. Who made thee a judge ? is a lawful question, if it meet with a person unwarranted.
Now the sin is punished the plague ceaseth. The revenge of God sets out ever after the sin ; but if the revenge of men, which commonly comes later, can overtake it, God gives over the chase. How oft hath the infliction of a less punishment avoided a greater. There are none so good friends to the state, as courageous and im- partial ministers of justice. These are the reconcilers of God and the people, more than the prayers of them that sit still and do no- thing. Num. xxv.
THE DEATH OF MOSES.
After many painful and perilous enterprises, now is Moses drawing to his rest. He hath brought his Israelites from Egypt, through the sea and wilderness, within the sight of their promised land ; and now himself must take possession of that land whereof Canaan was but a type. When we have done that we came for, it is time for us to be gone. This earth is only made for action, not for fruition : the services of God's children should be ill rewarded, if they must stay here always. Let no man think much that those are fetched away which are faithft.l to God ; they should not change, if it were not to their preferment. It is our folly that we would have good men live for ever, and account it a hard measure, that they Were. He, that lends them to the world, owes them a better turn
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than this earth can pay them. It were injurious to wish, that goodness should hinder any man from glory. So is the death of God's saints precious, that it is certain.
Moses must go up to mount Nebo, and die. The time, the place, and every circumstance of his dissolution is determined. That one dies in the field, another in his bed, another in the water, one in a foreign nation, another in his own, is fore-decreed in heaven. And, though we hear it not vocally, yet God hath called every man by his name, and saith, " Die thou there." One man seems to die casually, another by an unexpected vio- lence ; both fall by a destiny, and all is set down to us by an eter- nal decree. He, that brought us into the world, will carry us out according to his own purposes.
Moses must ascend up to the hill to die. He received his charge for Israel upon the hill of Sinai, and now he delivers up his charge on the hill of Nebo. His brother Aaron died on one hill, he on another. As Christ was transfigured on a hill, so was this excel- lent type of his ; neither doubt I, but that these hills were types to them of that heaven whither they were aspiring. It is the good- ness of our God, that he will not have his children die any where, but where they may see the Land of Promise before them ; neither can they depart without much comfort, to have seen it : contra- rily, a wicked man that look;; down, and sees hell before him, how can he choose but find more horror in the end of death, than in the way !
How familiarly doth Moses hear of his end ! It is no more be- twixt God and Moses, but, Go up and die. If he had invited him to a meal, it could not have been in a more sociable compcllation ; no otherwise than he said to his other prophet, Up and cat. It is neither harsh, nor news to God's children, to hear or think of their departure : to them death hath lost his horror, through acquaint- ance : those faces which at first sight seemed ill-favoured, by often viewing, grow out of dislike : they have so often thought and re- solved of the necessity, and of the issue of their dissolution, that they cannot hold it either strange or unwelcome : he, that hath had such entire conversation with God, cannot fear to go to him. Those that know him not, or know that he will not know them, no marvel if they tremble.
This is no small favour, that God warns Moses of his end : he, that had so often made Moses of his counsel, what he meant to do With Israel, would not now do ought with himself, without his knowledge. Expectation of any main event is a great advantage to a wise heart : if the fiery chariot had fetched away Elijah un- looked for, we should have doubted of the favour of his trans- portation : it is a token of judgment, to come as a thief in the night. God forewarns one by sickness, another by age, another by his secret instincts, to prepare for their end: if our hearts be .not now in a readiness, we are worthy to be surprised.
But what is this 1 hear ? Displeasure mixed with love ? and that to so faithful a servant as Moses ? He must but see the Lund of
152 CONTEMPLATIONS.
Promise, he shall not tread upon it ; because he once, long ago, sinned in distrusting. Death, though it were to him an entrance into glory, yet shall be also a chastisement of his infidelity. How many noble proofs had Moses given of his courage and strength of, faith! How many gracious services had lie done to his master! Yet for one act of distrust he must be gathered to his fathers. All our obediences cannot bear out one sin against God : how vainly shall we hope to make amends to God for our former trespasses, by our better behaviour, when Moses hath this one sin laid in his dish, after so many and worthy testimonies of his fidelity ! When we have forgotten our sins, yet God remembers them ; and, al- though not in anger, yet, he calls for our arrearages. Alas, what shall become of them, with whom God hath ten thousand greater quarrels ; that amongst many millions of sins, have scattered some few acts of formal services ! If Moses must die the first death for one fault, how shall they escape the second for sinning always! Even where God loves, he will not wink at sin ; and if he do not punish, yet he will chastise : how much less can it stand with that eternal Justice, to let wilful sinners escape judgment !
It might have been just with God, to have reserved the cause to himself ; and in a generality, to have told Moses, that his sin must shorten his journey : but it is more of mercy, than justice, that his children shall know why they smart ; that God may at once both justify himself, and humble them for their particular offences : those, to whom he means vengeance, have not the sight of their sins till they be past repentance. Complain not that God upbraids thee with thy old sins, whosoever thou art ; but know, it is an ar-
tument of love ; whereas concealment is a fearful sign of a secret islike from God. But what was that noted sin, which deserves this late exprobra- tion, and shall carry so sharp a chastisement ? Israel murmured for water ; God bids Moses take the rod in his hand, and speak to the rock to give water ; Moses instead of speaking, and striking the rock with his voice, strikes it with the rod : here was his sin ; an over-reaching of his commission ; a fearfulness and distrust of the effect. The rod, he knew, was approved for miracles ; he knew not how powerful his voice might be ; therefore he did not speak, but strike, and he struck twice for failing ; and now, after these many years, he is stricken for it of God. It is a dangerous thing in divine matters, to go beyond our warrant: those sins, which seem trivial to men, are heinous in the account of God ; any thing that savours of infidelity, displeases him more than some other crimes of morality. Yet the moving of the rod was but a diverse thing from the moving of the tongue ; it was not contrary ; he did not forbid the one, but he commanded the other : this was but across the stream, not against it ; where shall they appear, whose whole courses are quite contrary to the command- ments of God ?
Upon the act done, God passed the sentence of restraining Moses with the rest, from the promised laiid : now he performs it,
THE DEATH OF MOSES, 153
Since that time, Moses had many favours from God ; all which could not reverse this decreed castigation ; that everlasting rale is grounded upon the very essence of God, / am Jehovah, 1 change not. Our purposes are as om-selves, fickle and uncertain ; his are certain and immutable : some things which he reveals he alters ; nothing that lie hath decreed.
Besides the soul of Moses (to the glory whereof God principally intended this change) I rind him careful of two things; his suc- cessor, and his body i Moses moves for the one ; the other God doth unasked. He, that was so tender over the welfare of Israel in his life, would not slacken his care in death : he takes no thought for himself, for he knew how gainful an exchange he must make ; all his care is for his charge. Some envious natures desire to be missed, when they must go ; and wish that the weakness, or want of a successor, may be the foil of their memory and honour : Moses is in a contrary disposition ; it sufficcth him not, to find contentment in his own happiness, unless he mav have an assur- ance, that Israel shall prosper after him. Carnal minds are all for themselves, and make use of government, only for their own ad- vantages ; but good hearts look ever to the future good of the Church, above their own, against their own.
Moses did well, to shew his good affection to his people ; but in his silence God would have provided for his own : he, that called him from the sheep of Jethro, will not want a governor for his chosen, to succeed him ; God hath fitted him, whom lie will choose. Who can be more meet, than he whose name, whose experience, whose graces might supply, vea revive Moses to the people ? He that searched the land before was fittest to guide Israel into it ; he that was endued with the Spirit of God was the fittest deputy for God ; he that abode still in the tabernacle of Ohel-moed, as God's attendant, was fittest to be sent forth from him, as his lieutenant : but, oh the unsearchable counsel of the Almighty ! Aged Caleb and all the princes of Israel arc passed over, ami Joshua the ser- vant of Moses is chosen to succeed his master : the eye of God is not blinded either with gifts, or with blood, or with beauty, or with strength ; but, as in his eternal elections, so in his temporary, lie will have mercy on whom he will.
And well doth Joshua succeed Moses. The very acts of God of old were allegories : where the law ends, there the Saviour be- gins ; we may see the land of promise in the law ; only Jesus the mediator of the New Testament can brim? us into it. So was he a servant of the law, that he supplies all the defects of the law to us: he hath taken possession of the promised kind for us ; he shall carry us from this wilderness, to our rest.
It is no small happiness to any state, when their governors are chosen by worthiness, and such elections are ever from God ; whereas the intrusions of bribery and unjust favour or violence, as they make the commonwealth miserable, so they come from him which is the author of confusion : woe be to that state that suffers
154 CONTEMPLATIONS.
it ; woe be to that person that works it ; for both of them have sold themselves, the one to servitude, the other to sin.
I do not hear Moses repine at God's choice, and grudge that this sceptre of his is not hereditary ; but he willingly lays hands upon his servant, to consecrate him for his successor. Joshua was a good man, yet he had some sparks of envy ; for when Eldad and Medau prophesied, he stomached it; My lord Moses, forbid them. He that would not abide two of the elders of Israel to prophesy, how would he have allowed his servant to sit in his throne ! What an example of meekness (besides all the rest) doth he here see in this last act of his master, who without all murmuring resigns his chair of state to his page ! It is all one to a gracious heart, whom God will please to advance : emulation and discontentment are the affections of carnal minds. Humility goes ever with regeneration ; which teaches a man to think, whatever honour be put upon others, •* I have more than J am worth}' of."
The same God, that by the hands of his angels carried up the soul of Moses to his glory, doth also by the hand of his angels carry his body down into the valley of Moab, to his sepulture. Those hands which had taken the law from him, those eves that had seen his presence, those lips that had conferred so often with him, that face that did so shine with the beams of his glory, may not be neglected when the soul is gone : he, that took charge of his birth and preservation in the reeds, takes charge of his carriage out of the world : the care of God ceaseth not over his own, either in death or after it. How justly do we take care of the comely burials of our friends, when God himself gives us this example !
If the ministry of man had been used in this grave of Moses, the place might have been known to the Israelites : but God pur- posely conceals this treasure, both from men and devils, ' that so he might both cross their curiosity, and prevent their superstition. If God had loved the adoration of his servants' reliques, he could never have had a fitter opportunity for this devotion, than in the bod\' of Moses. It is folly to place religion in those things, which God hides on purpose from us ; it is not the property of the Al- mighty, to restrain us from good.
Yet that divine hand, which locked up this treasure, and kept the key of it, brought it forth afterwards, glorious. In the trans- figuration, this body, which was hid in the valley of Moab, ap- peared in the hill of Tabor ; that we may know, these bodies of ours are not lost, but laid up ; and shall as sure be raised in glorv, as they are laid down in corruption. We know that when he shall appear, we shall also appear with him in glory.
Num. xxvii, Deut. xxxiv.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK VIII.
TO THE TRULY NOBLE, AND WORTHILY HONOURED GENTLEMAN,
MASTER ROBERT HAY,
ONE OF THE ATTENDANTS OF HIS MAJESTY 's BEDCHAMBER,
A SINCERE FRIEND OF VIRTUE, AND LOVER OF LEARNING J
/. II.
WITH APPRECATION OF ALL HAPPINESS, DEDICATES THIS PART OF HIS MEDITATIONS.
RAHAB.
Joshua was one of those twelve searchers which were sent to view the land of Canaan ; yet now he addresses two spies, for a more particular survey : those twelve were only to inquire of the general condition of the people and land ; these two, to find out the best entrance into the next part of the country, and into their greatest city. Joshua himself was full of God's Spirit, and had the oracle of God ready for his direction ; yet now he goes not to the propitiatory for consultation, but to the spies. Except where ordinary means fail us, it is no appealing to the immediate help of God : we may not seek to the postern, but where the common gate is shut. It was promised Joshua, that he should lead Israel into the promised land ; yet he knew it was unsafe to presume. The condition of his provident care was included in that assurance of success. Heaven is promised to us, but not to our carelessness, infidelity, disobedience. He, that hath set this blessed inheritance before us, presupposes our wisdom, faith, holiness.
Either force or policy is fit to be used unto Canaanites. He, that would be happy in this spiritual warfare, must know where the strength of his enemy lieth, and must frame his guard accord- ing to the other's assaidt. It is a great advantage to a Christian, to know the fashion of Satan's onsets, that he. may the more easily compose himself to resist. Many a soul hath miscarried, through the ignorance of his enemy, winch had not perished, if it had well known that the weakness of Satan stands in our faith.
156 CONTEMPLATIONS.
The spies can find no other lodging but Rahab" s house. She was a victualler by profession, and (as those persons and trades, by- reason of the commonness of entertainment, were amongst the Jews infamous by name and note) she was Rahab the harlot : I will not think she professed filthiness : only her public trade, through the corruption of those times, hath cast upon her this name of reproach ; yea, rather will I admire her faith, than make excuses for her call- ing. How man}' women in Israel, now Miriam was dead, have given such proofs of their knowledge and faith ! How noble is that con- fession, which she makes of the power and truth of God ! Yea, I see here, not only a disciple of God, but a prophetess. Or if she had once been public, as her house was ; now she is a chaste and worthy convert ; and so approved herself for honest and wise be- haviour, that she is thought worthy to be the great grandmother of David's father ; and the holy line of the Mcssias is not ashamed to admit her into that happy pedigree. The mercy of our God doth not measure us by what we were. It would be wide with the best of us, if the eye of God should look backward to our former estate : there he should see Abraham an idolater, Paul a persecu- tor, Manasses a necromancer, Mary Magdalen a courtesan, and the best vile enough to be ashamed of himself. Who can despair of mercy, that sees even Rahab fetched into the blood of Israel and line of Christ?
If Rahab had not received these spies, but as unknown passen- gers, with respect to their money and not to their errand, it had been no praise ; for in such cases, the thank is rather to the guest, than to the host ; but now she knew their purpose : she knew that the harbour of them was the danger of her own life, and yet she hazards this entertainment. Either faith or friendship is never tried, but in extremities. To shew countenance to the messengers of God, while the public face of the state smiles upon them, is but a courtesy of course ; but to hide, our own lives in theirs, when they are persecuted, is an act that looks for a reward. These times need not our favour; we know not what may come: alas! how likely is it they would shelter them in danger, which respect them not in prosperity ?
All intelligences of state come first to the court: it most con-, cerns princes, to hearken after the affairs of each other. If this poor innholder knew of the sea dried up before Israel, and of the discomfiture of Og and Schon ; surely this rumour was stale with the king of Jericho : he had heard it and feared ; and yet, instead of sending ambassadors for peace, he sends pursuivants for the spies. The spirit of Rahab melted with that same report, where- with the king of Jericho was hardened : all make not one use of the messages of the proceedings of God.
The king sends to tell her what she knew : she had not hid them, if she had not known their errand. I know not whether first to wonder at the gracious provision of God for the spies, or at the strong faith which he hath wrought in the heart of a weak woman : two strangers, Israelites, spies (and noted for all these) in a foreign,
OF RAHAB. 157
in a hostile land, have a safe harbour provided them, even amongst their enemies; in Jericho, at the very court-gate, against the pro- clamation of a king, against the endeavours of the people. Where cannot the God of heaven either find or raise up friends to his own causes and servants ?
Who could have hoped for such faith in Rahab ? which con-, temned her life for the present, that she might save it for the future ; neglected her own king and country, for strangers which she never saw ; and more feared the destruction of that city, before it knew that it had an adversary, than the displeasure of her king, in the mortal revenge of that, which he would have accounted treachery. She brings them up to the roof of her house, and hides tliem with stalks of flax : that plant which was made to hide the body from nakedness and shame, now is used to hide the spies from death. Never could these stalks have been improved so well with all her housewifery, after they were bruised, as now before they were fitted to her wheel : of these she hath woven an everlasting web, both of life and propagation. And now her tongue hides them no less than her hand : her charity was good, her excuse was not good. Evil may not be done, that good way come of it : we may do any thing but sin, for promoting a good cause ; and if not in so main occasions, how shall God take it, that we are not dainty of false- hoods in trifles ?
No man will look that these spies could take any sound sleep in these beds of stalks : it is enough for them that they live, though they rest not. And now when they hear Kaliab coining up the stairs, doubtless they looked for an executioner; but behold, she comes up with a message better than their sleep, adding to their protection advice for their future safely; whereto she makes way by a faithful report of God's former wonders, and the present dis- position of her people, and by wise capitulations for the life and security of her family. The news of God's miraculous proceed- ings for Israel, have made her resolve of their success and the ruins of Jericho. Then only do we make a right use of the works of God, when by his judgments upon others we are warned to avoid our own. He intends his acts for precedents of justice.
The parents and brethren of Rahab take their rest : thev are not troubled with the fear and care of the success of Israel, but securely go with the current of the present condition. She watches for them all, and breaks her midnight sleep to prevent their last. One wite and faithful person does well in a house : where all are careless there is no comfort, but in perishing together. It had been an ill nature in Rahab, if she had been content to be saved alone : that her love might be a match to her faith, she covenants for all her fa- mily ; and so returns life to those, of whom she received it. Both the bond of nature and of grace vviil draw all ours, to the partici- pation of the same good with ourselves.
It had been never the better for the spies, if after this night's lodging they had been turned out of doors to the hazard of the way ; for so the pur:. tiers had lighted upon them, and prevented their return with their death. Rahab's counsel therefore was better (hajn
158
CONTEMPLATIONS.
her harbour ; which sent them (no doubt, with victuals in then- hands) to seek safety in the mountains, till the heat of that search were past. He, that hath given us charge of our lives, will not suffer us to cast them upon wilful adventures. Had not these spies hid themselves in those desert hills, Israel had wanted directors for their enterprises. There is nothing more expedient for the Church, than that some of God's faithful messengers should withdraw them- selves, and give way to persecutions. Courage in those that must die is not a greater advantage to the Gospel, than a prudent retir- ing of those which may survive to maintain and propagate it.
It was a just and reasonable transaction between them, that her life should be saved by them which had saved theirs : they owe no less to her, to whom they were not so much guests as prisoners. And now they pass not their promise only, but their oath. They were strangers to Rahab, and for ought she knew, might have been godless ; yet she dares trust her life upon their oath. So sacred and inviolable hath this bond ever been, that a Heathen woman thought herself secure upon the oath of an Israelite.
Neither is she more confident of their oath taken, than they are careful both of taking and performing it. So far are they from de- siring to salve up any breach of promise by equivocation, that they explain all conditions, and would prevent all possibilities of viola- tion. All Rahab's family must be gathered into her house ; and that red cord, which was an instrument of their delivery, must be a sign of hers. Behold, this is the saving colour : the destroying angel sees the door-cheeks of the Israelites sprinkled with red, and passes them over : the warriors of Israel see the window of Rahab dyed with red, and save her family from the common destruction. If our souls have this tincture of the precious blood of our Saviour, upon our doors or windows, we are safe.
But if any one of the brethren of Rahab shall fly from this red flag, and rove about the city, and not contain himself under that roof which hid the spies, it is in vain for him to tell the avengers that he is Rahab's brother : that title will not save him in the street ; within doors it will. If we will wander out of the li- mits that God hath set us, we cast ourselves out of his protection ; we cannot challenge the benefit of his gracious preservation, and our most precious redemption, when we fly out into the bye- ways of our own hearts, not for innocence, but for safety and harbour. The Church is that house of Rahab, which is saved when all Jeri- cho shall perish. While we keep us in the lists thereof, we cannot miscarry, through mis-opinion ; but when once we run out of it, let us look for judgment from God, and error in our own judgment.
Jos. ii.
JORDAN DIVIDED. The two spies returned with news of the victory that should be. I do not hear them say, " The land is unpeopled, or the people are unfurnished with arms; unskilful in the discipline of war ; but, 7'hey faint because of us; therefore their land is ours. Either
JORDAN DIVIDED.
159
success or discomfiture begins ever at the heart. A man's inward disposition doth more than presage the event. As a man raises up his own heart before his fall, and depresses it before his glory 5 so God raises it up before his exaltation, and casts it down before his ruin. It is no otherwise in our spiritual conflicts : if Satan see us once faint, he gives himself the day. There is no way to safety, but that our hearts be the last that shall yield. That which the hea- thens attributed to fortune, we may justly to the hand of God ; that he speedeth those that are forward. All the ground that we lose is given to our adversaries.
This news is brought but over-night : Joshua is on his way by morning, and prevents the sun for haste. Delays, whether in the business of God or our own, arc hateful and prejudicial. Many a one loses the land of promise by lingering : if we neglect God's time, it is just with him to cross us in ours.
Joshua hastens till he has brought Israel to the verge of the promised land. Nothing parts them now but the river of Jordan. There he stays a time ; that the Israelites might feed themselves awhile with the sight of that, which they should afterwards enjoy- That which they had been forty years in seeking may not be seized upon too suddenly : God loves to give us cools and heats in our desires ; and will so allay our joys, that their fruition hurt us not. He knows, that, as it is in meats, the long forbearance whereof causes a surfeit when we come to full feed, so it fares in the contentments of the mind ; therefore he feeds us not with the dish, but with the spoon ; and will have us neither cloyed nor fa- mished. If the mercy of God have brought us within sight of heaven, let us be content to pause awhile, and upon the banks of Jordan fit ourselves for our entrance.
Now that Israel is brought to the brim of Canaan, the cloud is vanished which led them all the way ; and as soon as they have but crossed Jordan, the manna ceaseth which nourished them all the way. The cloud and manna were for their passage, not for their rest ; for the wilderness, not for Canaan. It were as easy for God to work miracles always ; but he knows, that custom were the way to make them no miracles. He goes by-ways but till he have brought us into the road, and then he refers us to his ordinary proceedings. That Israelite should have been very foolish, that would still have said, " I will not stir till I see the cloud ; I will not eat unless I may have that food of angels." Wherefore serves the ark but for their direction ? Wherefore serves the wheat of Canaan but for bread ? So, fond is that Christian that will still depend upon expectation of miracles, after the fulness of God's kingdom. If God bear us in his arms when we are children, yet when we are well grown he looks w e should go on our own feet : it is enough that he upholds us, though he carry us not.
He, that hitherto had gone before them in the cloud, doth now go before them in the ark ; the same guide, in two divers signs of his presence. The cloud was for Moses', the ark for Joshua's time : the cloud was fit for Moses ; the law offered us Christ, but enwrap-
160 CONTE.NfPLATlONS
ed in many obscurities. If he were seen in the clond, lie was card from the cover of the ark. Why was it the ark of the testi- mony, but because it witnessed both his presence and love? And within it, were his word, the Law; and his sacrament, the Manna, Who can wish a better guide, than the God of heaven, in his word and sacraments ? Who can know the way into the land of pro- mise, so well as he that owns it ? And what means can better direct us thither, than those of his institution ?
That ark which before was as the heart is now as the head ; it was in the midst of Israel, while they encamped in the desert ; now when the cloud is removed, it is in the front of the army ; that as before they depended upon it for life, so now they should for di- rection. It must go before them on the shoulders of the sons of Levi : they must follow it, but within sight, not within breathing. The Levitesmay not touch the ark, but only the bars : the Israel- ites mav not approach nearer than a thousand paces to it. What awful respects doth God require to be given unto the testimonies of his presence ! Uzzah paid dear for touching it; the men of Beth- shemesh for looking into it. It is a dangerous thing to be too bold with the ordinances of God. Though the Israelites were sanctified, vet they might not come near either the Mount of Sinai, when the taw was delivered, or the ark of the covenant, wherein the law was written. How fearful shall their estate be, that come with un- hallowed hearts and hands to the word of the Gospel, and the true manna of the evangelical sacrament ? As we used to say of the courtand of fire, so may we of these divine institutions, W e freeze if we be far off from them; and if we be more near than befits us, we burn. Un- der the Law we might look at Christ aloof, now under the Gospel we may come near him : he calls us to him ; yea, he enters into us.
Neither was it only for reverence that the ark must be, not stum- bled at, but waited on, afar; but also for convenience, both of sight and passage : those things that are near us, though they be less, fill our eye ; neither could so many thousand eyes see the same object upon a level, but by distance. It would not content God, that one Israelite should tell another, " Now the ark goes, now it turns, now it stands ;" but he would have every one his own witness. What can be so comfortable to a good heart, as to see the pledges of God's presence and favour ? To hear of the loving kindnesses of God is pleasant, but to behold and feel the evidences of his mercy is unspeakably delectable: hence the saints of God, not contenting themselves with faith, have still prayed for sight and fruition, and mourned when they have wanted it. What a happy prospect hath God set before us, of Christ Jesus crucified for us, and offered unto us !
•Ere God will work a miracle before Israel, they have charge to be sanctified There is a holiness required, to make us either patients or beholders of the great works of God ; how much more when we should be actors in his sacred services ! There is more use of tanctification, when we must present something to God, than wh©p he must do aught to us.
JORDAN DIVIDED.
161
The same power, that divided the Red-Sea before Moses, divides Jordan before Joshua ; that they might see the ark no less effec- tual than the cloud, and the hand of God as present with Joshua to bring them into Canaan, as it was with Moses to bring them out of Egypt.
The bearers of the ark had need be faithful ; they must first set their foot into the streams of Jordan, and believe that it will give way : the same faith that led Peter upon the water must carry them into it. There can be no Christian without belief in God ; but those, that are near to God in his immediate services, must go be- fore others no less in believing, than they do in example.
The waters know their Maker : that Jordan that flowed with full streams when Christ went into it to be baptized, now gives way when the same God must pass through it in state : then there was use of his water, now of his sand.
I hear no news of any rod to strike the waters : the presence of the ark of the Lord God, the Lord of all the world, is sign enough to these waves ; which now, as if a sinew were broken, run back to their issues, and dare not so much as wet the feet of the priests that bear it ; What aileth thee, O sea, that thou Jleddest, and thou Jordan, that thou wert driven back ? Ye mountains, that ye leaped like rams, and ye little hills, like lambs ? The earth trem~ bled at the presence of the Lord ; at the presence of the God of Jacob.
How observant are all the creatures to the God that made them ! How glorious a God do we serve ; whom all the powers of the heavens and elements are willingly subject unto, and gladly take that nature whicli he pleases to give them. He could have made Jordan like some solid pavement of crystal for the Israelites' feet to have trod upon, but this work had not been so magnificent. Every strong frost congeals the water in a natural course ; but for the river to stand still, and run on heaps, and to be made a liquid wall for the passage of God's people, is, for nature to run out of itself, to do homage to her Creator.
Now must the Israelites needs think ; " How can the Canaanites stand out against us, when the seas and rivers give us way ?" With what joy did they now trample upon the dry channel ot Jordan, while they might see the dry deserts overcome ; the promised land before them ; the very waters so glad of them, that they ran back to welcome them into Canaan ! The passages into our promised land are troublesome and perilous ; and, even at last, offer them- selves to us the main hindrances of our salvation ; which, after all our hopes, threaten to defeat us : for what will it avail us to have passed a wilderness, if the waves of Jordan should swallow us up ? Butthesame hand that hath made the way hard hath made it sure : he that made the wilderness comfortable will make Jordan dry ; he will master all difficulties for us ; and those things which we most feared, will he make most sovereign and beneficial to us. O God, as we have trusted thee with the beginning, so will we with the finishing of
VOL. I. M
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
our glory. Faithful art thou that hast promised, which wilt also do it.
He that led them about, in forty years' journey, through the wil- derness, yet now leads them the nearest cut to Jericho : he will not so much as seek for a ford for their passage, but divides the waters. What a sight was this to their heathen adversaries, to see the waters- make both a lane and a wall for Israel ! Their hearts could not druse but be broken, to see the streams broken off for a way to their enemies. I do not see Joshua hasting through this channel, as if he feared lest the tide of Jordan should return ; but, as know- ing that watery wall stronger than the walls of Jericho, he paces slowly : and lest this miracle should pass away with themselves, he commands twelve stones to be taken out of the channel of Jordan, by twelve selected men from every tribe, which shall be pitched in Gilgal ; and twelve other stones to be set in the midst of Jor- dan, where the feet of the priests had stood with the ark ; that so both land and water might testify the miraculous way of Israel, while it should be said of the one, " These stones were fetched out of the pavement of Jordan ;" of the other, " There did the ark rest while we walked dry-shod through the deeps of Jordan:" of the one, " Jordan was once as dry as this Gilgal;" of the other, " Those waves which drown these stones had so drowned us, if the power of the Almighty had not restrained them." Many a great work had God done for Israel, which was now forgotten ; Joshua therefore will have monuments of God's mercy, that future ages might be both witnesses and applauders of the great works of their God. Josh. Hi, iv.
THE SIEGE OF JERICHO.
Joshua begins his wars with the Circumcision and Passover. He knew that the way to keep the blood of his people from shedding, was to let out that Paganish blood of their uncircumcision. The person must be in favour, ere the work can hope to prosper \ his predecessor Moses had like to have been slain for neglect of this sacrament, when he went to call the people out of Egypt; he just- ly fears his own safety, if now he omit it, when they are brought into Canaan : we have no right of inheritance in the spiritual Ca- naan, the Church of God, till we have received the sacrament of our matriculation : so soon as our covenants are renewed with our Creator, we may well look for the vision of God for the assurance of victory.
What sure work did the king of Jericho think he had made ! He blocked up the passages, barred up the gates, defended the walls, and did enough to keep out a common enemy : if we could do but this to our spiritual adversaries, it were as impossible for us to be surprised, as for Jericho to be safe. Methinks I see -how they called their council of war, debated of all means of defence, gathered their forces, trained their soldiers, set
THE SIECE OF JERICHO. 16%
Strong guards to the gates and walls; and now would persuade one another, that unless Israel could fly into their city, the siege was Vain. Vain worldlings think their ramparts and barricadoes can keep out the vengeance of God : their blindness suffers them to look no further than the means : the supreme hand of the Almighty comes not within the compass of their fears. Every carnal heart is a Jericho shut up : God sits down before it, and displays mercy and judgment in sight of the walls thereof ; it hardens itself in a wilful security, and saith, Tush, I shall never be moved.
Yet their courage and fear fight together within their walls, with- in their bosoms : their courage tells them of their own strength ; heir fear suggests the miraculous success of this (as they could not but think) enchanted generation ; and now while they have shut out their enemy, they have shut in their own terror. The, most secure heart in the world hath some flashes of fear ; for it can- not but sometimes look out of itself, and see what it would not; Rahab had notified that their hearts fainted ; and yet now their faces bewray nothing but resolution. I know not whether the heart or the face of a hypocrite be more false ; and as each of them seeks to beguile the other, so both of them agree to deceive the beholders. In the midst of laughter their heart is heavy : who would not think him merry that laughs ? yet their rejoicing is but in the face. Who would not think a blasphemer or profane man resolutely careless ? If thou hadst a window into his heart, thou shouldst see him tor- mented with horrors of conscience.
Now the Israelites see those walled cities and towers, whose height was reported to reach to heaven ; the fame whereof had so affrighted them ere they saw them ; and were ready doubtless to say in their distrust, " Which way shall we scale these invincible fortifications ? What ladders, what engines shall we use to so great a work r" God prevents their infidelity ; Behold, I have given Jericho into thine hand. If their walls had their foundations laid in the centre of the earth ; if the battlements had been so high built that an eagle could not soar over them; this is enough, / have given it thee. For on whose earth have they raised these cas- tles ? Out of whose treasure did they dig those piles of stone ? Whence had they their strength and time to build ? Cannot he that gave recal his own ? O yc fools of Jericho, what if your walls be strong, your men valiant, your leaders skilful, your king wise, when God hath said, / have given thee the city ?
What can swords or spears do against the Lord of Hosts r With- out him means can do nothing ; how much less against him ! How vain and idle is that reckoning, wherein God is left out! Had the captain of the Lord's host drawn his sword for Jericho, the gates might have been opened : Israel could no more have entered, than they can now be kept from entering, when the walls were fallen. What courses soever we take for our safety, it is good making God of our side : neither men nor devils can hurt us against him ; neither men, nor angels can secure us from him.
There was never so strange a- siege as this of Jericho : here was
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no mount raised, no sword drawn, no engine planted, no pioneers undermining ; here were trumpets sounded, but no enemy seen ; here were armed men, but no stroke given : they must walk and not fight ; seven several days must they pace about the walls, which they may not once look over to see what was within. Doubtless, these inhabitants of Jericho made themselves merry with this sight; when they had stood six days upon their walls, and beheld none but a walking enemy ; " What," say they, " could Israel find no walk to breathe them with, but about our walls? Have they not tra- velled enough in their forty years' pilgrimage, but they must stretch their limbs in this circle ? Surely if their eyes were en- gines, our walls could not stand : we see they are good footmen, but when shall wc try their hands ? What, do these vain men think Jericho will be won with looking at? or, do they only come to count how many paces it is about our city ? If this be their man, ner of siege we shall have no great cause to fear the sword of Is- rael." Wicked men think God in jest, when he is preparing for their judgment. The Almighty hath ways and counsels of his own, utterly unlike to ours; which, because our reason cannot reach, we are ready to condemn of foolishness and impossibility. With us, there is no w ay to vic tory but fighting, and the strongest carries the spoil: God can give victory to the feet as well as to the hands; and, when he will, makes weakness no disadvantage. What should we do, but follow God through bye-ways ; and know, that he will, in spite of nature, lead us to our end ?
All the men of war must compass the city ; yet it was not the presence of the great warriors of Israel, that threw down the walls of Jericho. Those foundations were not so slightly laid, as that they could not endure either a look, or a march, or a battery : it was the Ark of God, whose presence demolished the walls of that wicked city. The same power, that drave back the waters of Jordan be- fore, and afterwards laid Dagon on the floor, cast down all those forts. The priests bare on their shoulders that mighty engine of God, before which those walls, if they had been of molten brass, could not stand. Those spiritual wickednesses, yea, those gates of hell, which to nature are utterly invincible, by the power of the word of God, which he hath committed to the carriage of his weak servants, arc overthrown and triumphed over. Thy Ark, O God, hath been long amongst us ; how is it that the walls of our corrup- tions stand still unruined ? It hath gone before us ; his priests have carried it, we have not followed it, our hearts have not at- tended upon it ; and therefore how mighty soever it is in itself, yet to us it hath not been so powerful as it would.
Seven days together they walk this round ; they made this there- fore their sabbath-day's journey ; and who knows whether the last and longest walk, which brought victory to Israel, were not on this clay ? Not long before, an Israelite is stoned to death for but gathering a few sticks that day ; now all the host of Israel must walk about the walls of a large and populous city, and yet do not violate the day. God's precept is the rule of the justice and holi-
THE SIEGE OF JERICHO.
IG5
ness of all our actions. Or was it, for that revenge upon God's enemies is a holy work, and such as God vouchsafes to privilege with his own day ? or, because when we have undertaken the ex- ploits of God, he will abide no intermission till we have fulfilled them ? He allows us to breathe, not to break off" till we have finished. #
It had been as easy for God to have given this success to their first day's walk, yea to their first pace, or their first sight of Jeri- cho ; yet he will not give it until the end of their seven days' toil : it is the pleasure of God, to hold us both in work.£tid in expecta- tion ; and though he require our continual endeavours for the sub- duing of our corruptions, during the six days of our life, yet we shall never find it perfectly effected till the very evening of our last day : in the mean time it must content us, that we are in our walk, and that these walls cannot stand, when we come to the measure and number of our perfection. A good heart groans under the sense of its infirmities, fain would be rid of them, and strives and prays; but when he hath all done, until the end of the seventh day it can- not be : if a stone or two moulder off from these walls in the mean time, that is all; but the foundations will not be removed till then.
When we hear of so great a design as the miraculous winning of a mighty city, who would not look for some glorious means to work it ? When we hear that the ark of God must besiege Jericho, who would not look for some royal equipage ? But behold, here seven priests must go before it, with seven trumpets of rams' horns. The Israelites had trumpets of silver, which God had appointed for the use of assembling and dissolving the congregation, for war, and for peace. Now I do not hear them called for ; but, instead thereof trumpets of rams' horns ; base for the matter, and not loud for sound, the shortness and equal measure of those instruments could not afford, either shrillness of noise, or variety. How mean and homely are those means, which God commonly uses in the most glorious works ! No doubt, the citizens of Jericho answered this dull alarum of theirs from their walls, with other instruments of louder report, and more martial ostentation ; and the vulvar Is- raelites thought, "We have as clear and as costly trumpets as theirs ; ' yet no man dares offer to sound the better, when the worse are commanded. If we find the ordinances of God poor and weak let it content us that they are of his own chusing; and such as whereby he will so much more honour himself, as they in themselves are more inglorious. Not the outside, but the efiicacy, is it that God cares for.
No ram of iron could have been so forcible for battery, as these rams' horns ; for when they sounded long, and were seconded with the shout of the Israelites, all the walls of Jericho fell down at once. They made the heaven ring with their shout; but the ruin of those walls drowned their voice, and gave a pleasant kind of horror to the Israelites. The earth shook under them with the fail ■ but the h carts ot the inhabitants shook yet more : many of them doubt- less were slam with those walls, wherein they had trusted : a man
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might see death in the faces of all the rest that remained ; who now, being half dead with astonishment, expected the other half from the sword of their enemies. They had now neither means, nor will to resist ; for if only one breach had been made, as it uses in other sieges, for the entrance of the enemy, perhaps new sup- plies of defendants might have made it up with their carcases ; but now that at once Jericho is turned to a plain field, every Is- raelite, without resistance, might run to the next booty, and the throats of their enemies seemed to invite their swords to a dis- patch.
If but one Israelite had knocked at the gates of Jericho, it might have, been thouglit their hand had helped to the victory ; now, that God may have all the glory, without the show of any rival, yea of any means, they do but walk and shout, and the walls give way. He cannot abide to part with any honour, from himself : as he doth all things, so he would be acknowledged.
They shout all at once. It is the presence of God's ark and our conjoining prayers, that are effectual to the beating down of wickedness. They may not shout, till they be bidden : if we will be unseasonable in our good actions, we may hurt, and not benefit ourselves.
Every living thing in Jericho, man, woman, child, cattle, must die : our folly would think this merciless ; but there can be no mercy in injustice, and nothing but injustice in not fulfilling the charge of God. The death of malefactors, the condemnation of wicked men, seem harsh to us ; but we must learn of God, that there is a punishing mercy. Cursed be that mercy, that opposes the God of mercy.
Yet was not Joshua so intent upon the slaughter, as not to be mindful of God's part, and Rahab's : first, he gives charge (under a curse) of reserving all the treasure for God ; then, of preserv- ing the family of Rahab. Those two spies, that received life from her, now return it to her, and hers : they call at the window with the red cord ; and send up news of life to her, the same way which they received theirs : her house is no part of Jericho ; neither may fire be set to any building of that city, till Rahab and her fa- mily be set safe without the host. The actions of our faith and charity will be sure to pay us ; if late, yet surely. Now Rahab finds what it is to believe God ; while, out of an impure idolatrous city, she is transplanted into the Church of God, and made a mo- ther of a royal and holy posterity. Jos. vi.
OF ACHAN.
When the walls of Jericho were fallen, Joshua charged the Israel- ites but with two precepts ; of sparing Rahab's house, and of ab- staining from that treasure which was anathematized to God ; and one of them is broken : as in the entrance to Paradise', but one tree was forbidden, and that was eaten of. God hath provided for our veakness in the paucity of commands; but our innocence stands
OF ACHAN. 167
not so much in having few precepts, as in keeping those we have. So much more guilty are we in the breach of one, as we are more favoured in the number.
They needed no command, to spare no living thing in Jericho ; but to spare the treasure, no command was enough. Impartiality of execution is easier to perform, than contempt of these worldly things ; because we are more prone to covet for ourselves, than to pity others. Had Joshua bidden save the men and divide the treasure, his charge had been more plausible, than now to kill the men and save the treasure; or, if they must kill, earthly minds would more gladly shed their enemies' blood for a booty, than out of obedience for the glory of their Maker, But now, it is good reason, since God threw down those walls and not they, that both the blood of that wicked city should be spilt to him, not to their own revenge ; and that the treasure should be reserved for his use, not for theirs. Who but a miscreant can grudge, that God should serve himself of his own ? I cannot blame the rest of Israel, if they were well pleased with their conditions ; only one Achan troubles the peace, and his sin is imputed to Israel: the innocence of so many thousand Israelites, is not so forcible to excuse his one sin, as his one sin is to taint all Israel.
A lewd man is a pernicious creature : that he damns his own soul, is the least part of his mischief; he commonly draws ven- geance upon a thousand, either by the desert of his sin, or by the infection. Who would not have hoped, that the same God, which for ten righteous men would have spared the five wicked cities, should not have been content to drown one sin in the obedience of so many righteous? But so venomous is sin, especially when it lights among God's people, that one dram of it is able to infect the whole; mass of Israel.
O righteous people of Israel, that had but one Achan ! How had their late circumcision cut away the unclean foreskin of their disobedience! How had the blood of their paschal lamb scoured their souls from covetous desires ! The world was well mended with them, since their stubborn murmurings in the desert. Since the death of Moses, and the government of Joshua, I do not find them, in any disorder. After that the Law hath brought us under the con- duct of the true Jesus, our sins are more rare and ourselves are more conscionable. While we are under the Law, we do not so keep it, as when we are delivered from it : our Christian freedom is more holy than our servitude. Then have the sacraments of God their due effect, when their receipt purgeth us from our old sins, and makes our conversation clean and spiritual.
Little did Joshua know, that there was any sacrilege committed by Israel : that sin is not half cunning enough, that hath not learn- ed secrecy. Joshua .was a vigilant leader, yet some sins will escape him : only that eye which is every where, finds us out in our close wickedness. It is no blame to authority, that some sins arc secret- ly committed. The holiest coiit^ region, or family, may be ble- mished with some malductors. It is just blam<;( that 'open sins are
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not punished : we shall wrong government, if we shall expect the reach of it should be infinite.
He therefore, which if he had known the offence, would have sent up prayers and tears to God, now sends spies for a further discovery of Ai: they return, with news of the weakness of their adversaries; and, as contemning their paucity, persuade Joshua, that a wing of Israel is enough to overshadow this city of Ai. The Israelites were so flushed with their former victory, that now they think no walls or men can stand before them. Good success lifts up the heart with too much confidence ; and while it dissuades men from doing their best, oft-times disappoints them. With God, the means can never be too weak; without him, never strong enough.
It is not good to contemn an impotent enemy. In this second battle the Israelites are beaten : it was not the fewness of their as- sailants that overthrew them, but the sin that lay lurking at home. If all the host of Israel had set upon this poor village of Ai, they had been all equally discomfited : the wedge of Achan did more fight against them, than all the swords of the Canaanites. The vic- tories of God go not by strength, but by innocence.
Doubtless, these men of Ai insulted in this foil of Israel, and said ; <( Lo, these are the men, from whose presence the waters of Jordan ran back ; now they run as fast away from ours : these are they, before whom the walls of Jericho fell down ; now they are fallen as fast before us." And all their neighbours took heart from this victory : wherein, I doubt not but besides the punishment of Israel's sin, God intended the further obduration of the Canaanites; like as some skilful player loses on purpose at the beginning of the game, to draw on the more abetments. The news of their over- throw spread as far as the fame of their speed ; and every city of Canaan could say, " Why not we as well as Ai ?"
But good Joshua, that succeeded Moses, no less in the care of God's glory than in his government, is much dejected with this event, He rends his clothes, falls on his face, casts dust upon his head, and, as if he had learned of his master how to expostulate with God, says, What wilt thou do to thy mighty name ?
That Joshua might see, God took no pleasure to let the Israelites lie dead upon the earth, before their enemies ; himself is taxed for but lying all day, upon his face, before the ark. All his ex- postulations are answered in one word ; Get thee up, Israel hath sinned, I do not hear God say, " Lie still, and mourn for the sin of Israel." It is to no purpose to pray against punishment, while the sin continues. And though God loves to be sued to, yet he holds our requests unseasonable, till there be care had of satis- faction. When we have risen, and redressed sin, then may we fall down for pardon.
Victory is in the free hand of God, to dispose where he will ; and no man can marvel that the dice of war run ever with hazard, on both sides, so as God needed not to have given any other reason of this discomfiture of Israel, but his own pleasure : yet Joshua
OF ACHAN.
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must now know, that Israel, which before prevailed for their faith, is beaten for their sin. When we are crossed in just and holy- quarrels, we may well think there is some secret evil unrepented of, which God would punish in us ; which though we see not, yet he so hates, that he will rather be wanting to his own cause, than not revenge it. When we go about any enterprise of God, it is good to see that our hearts be clear from any pollution of sin ; and when we are thwarted in our bopes, it is our best course to ransack ourselves, and to search for some sin hid from us in our bosom, but open to the view of God.
The oracle of God, which told him a great offence was commit- ted, yet reveals not the person. It had been as easy for him, to have named the man as the crime. Neither doth Joshua request it ; but refers that discovery to such a means, as whereby the of- fender, finding himself singled out by the lot, might be most con- vinced. Achau thought he might have lain as close in all that throng of Israel, as the wedge of gold lay in his tent. The same hope of secrecy, which moved him to sin, moved him to confidence in his sin : but now, when he saw the lot fall upon his tribe, he be- gan to start a little; when upon his family, he began to change countenance ; when upon his household, to tremble and fear ;. when upon his person, to be utterly confounded in himself, foolish men think to run away with their privy sins; and say, Tush, no eye shall see me ; but when they think themselves safest, God pulls them out with shame. The man, that hath escaped justice, and now is lying down in death, would think, " My shame shall never be disclosed ;" but before men and angels shall he be brought on the scaffold, and find confusion, as sure as late.
What needed any other evidence, when God had accused Achan ? Yet Joshua will have the sin out of his mouth, in whose heart it was hatched ; My soft, I beseech thee give glory to God. Wnom God had convinced as a malefactor, Joshua beseeches as a son. Some hot spirit would have said, ** Thou wretched traitor, how hast thou pilfered from thy God, and shed the blood of so many- Israelites, and caused the host of Israel to shew their backs, with dishonour, to the heathen ! Now shall we fetch this sin out of thee with tortures; and plague thee with a condign death." But, like the disciple of him whose servant he was, he meekly entreats that, which he might have extorted by violence ; My son, I beseech thee. Sweetness of compensation is a great help towards the good enter- tainment of an admonition : roughness and rigour many times har- den those hearts, which meekness would have melted to repent- ance: whether we sue, or convince, or reprove, little good is got- ten by bitterness. Detestation of the sin may well stand with fa- vour to the person ; and these two not distinguished cause great wrong, either in our charity or justice ; for, either we uncharita- bly hate the creature of God, or unjustly affect the evil of men. Subjects are, as they are called, sons to the magistrate: all Israel was not only of the family, but as of the loins of Joshua. Such must be the corrections, such the provisions of governors, as for
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their children ; as again, the obedience and love of subjects must be filial.
God had glorified himself sufficiently, in finding out the wick- edness of Achan; neither need he honour from men, much less from sinners : they can dishonour him by their iniquities, but what recompence can they give him for their wrongs ? Yet Joshua says, My son, give glory to God. Israel should now see, that the tongue of Achan did justify God in his lot. The confession of our sins doth no less honour God, than his glory is blemished by their commission. Who would not be glad to redeem the honour of his Redeemer, with his own shame ?
The lot of God and the mild words of Joshua won Achan to ac- cuse himself, ingenuously, impartially : a storm perhaps would not have done that, which a sunshine had done. If Achan had come in, uncalled ; and before any question made, out of an honest remorse, had brought in his sacrilegious booty, and cast himself and it at the foot of Joshua ; doubtless, Israel had prospered, and his sin had carried away pardon : now he hath gotten thus much thank, that he is not a desperate sinner. God will once wring from the conscience of w icked men their own indictments : they have not more carefully hid their sin, than they shall one day freely proclaim their own shame.
Achan's confession, though it were late, yet was it free and full ; for he doth not- only acknowledge the act, but the ground of his sin ; / saw, and coveted, and took. The eye betrayed the heart ; and that, the hand ; and now all conspire in the offence. If we list not to flatter ourselves, this hath been the order of our crimes. Evil is uniform; and, beginning at the senses, takes the inmost fort of the soul, and then arms our own outward forces against us. This shall once be the lascivious man's song, " I saw, and covet- ed, and took:" this the thief; this the idolater's; this the glut- ton's, and drunkard's : all these receive their death by the eye. But, O foolish Achan ! with what eyes didst thou look upon that spoil, which thy fellows saw and contemned? Why couldest thou not before, as well as now, see shame hid under that gay Babylo- nish garment ? and a heap of stones covered with those shekels of silver? The over-prizing and over-desiring of these earthly things carries us into all mischief, and hides from us the sight of God's judgments : whosoever desires the glory of metals, or of gay clothes, or honour, cannot be innocent.
Well might Joshua have proceeded to the execution of him, whom God and his own mouth accused ; but as one that thought no evidence could be too strong in a case that was capital, he sends to see, whether there was as much truth in the confession, as there was falshood in the stealth. Magistrates and judges must pace slowly and sure in the punishment of offenders. Presumptions are not ground enough for the sentence of death; no, not in some cases the confessions of the guilty : it is no warrant for the law to wrong a man, that he hath before wronged himself. There is less ill in sparing an offender, than in punishing the innocent.
OF THE CIBEONITES. 171
Who would not have expected, since the confession of Achan was ingenuous, and his pillage still found entire, that his life should have been pardoned ? But here was, " Confess and die." He « had been too long sick of this disease, to be recovered. Had his confession been speedy and free, it had saved him. How dan- gerous it is, to suffer sin to lie fretting into tho soul ; which, if it were washed off betimes with our repentance, could not kill us ! In mortal offences, the course of human justice is not stayed by our penitence : it is well for our souls that we have repented , but the laws of men take not notice of our sorrow. I know not whe- ther the death or the tears of a malefactor be a better sight. The censures of the Church are wiped off with weeping, not the pe- nalties of Laws.
Neither is Achan alone called forth to death, but all his family, all his substance. The actor alone doth not smart with sacrilege ; all that concerns him is enwrapped in the judgment. Those, that defile their hands with holy goods, are enemies to their own flesh and blood. God's first revenges are so much the more fearful, be- cause they must be exemplary. Jos. zu.
OF THE GIBEONITES.
The news of Israel's victory had flown over all the mountains and valliesof Canaan ; and yet those heathenish kings and people are mustered together against them. They might have seen them- selves in Jericho and Ai, and have well perceived, it was not an arm of flesh that they must resist ; yet they gather their forces, and say, " Tush, we shall speed better." It is madness in a man, not to be warned, but to run upon the point of those judgments, where- with he sees others miscarry, and not to believe, till he cannot re- cover. Our assent is purchased too late, when we have overstay- ed prevention ; and trust to that experience which we cannot live to redeem.
Only the Hivites are wiser than their fellows, and will rather yield and live. Their intelligence was not diverse from the rest : all had equally heard of the miraculous conduct, and success of Israel ; but their resolution was diverse. As Rahab saved her fa- mily in the midst of Jericho, so these four cities preserved them- selves in the midst of' Canaan ; and both of them, by believing what God would do. The efficacy of God's marvellous works is not in the acts themselves, but in our apprehension : some are overcome with those motives, which others have contemned for weak .
Had these Gibeonites joined with the forces of all their neigh- bours, they had perished in their common slaughter; if they had not gone a way by themselves, death bad met them : it, may have more pleasure, it cannot have so much safety-, to follow tiie multi- tude. If examples may lead us, the greatest part shuts out God upon earth; and is excluded from God elsewhere. Some lew poor
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Hivites 3Tield to the Church of God, and escape the condemnation of the world. It is very like their neighbours flouted at this base submission of the Gibeonites, and out of their terms of honour, scorned to beg life of an enemy, while they were out of the com- pass of mercy ; but when the bodies of these proud Jebusites and Perizzites lay strewed upon the earth, and the Gibeonites survived, whether was more worthy of scorn and insult ?
If the Gibeonites had stayed till Israel had besieged their cities, their yielding had been fruitless ; now they make an early peace, and are preserved. There is no wisdom in staying till a judgment come home to us : the only way to avoid it, is to meet it half way. There is the same remedy of war, and of danger : to provoke an enemy in his own borders, is the best stay of invasion ; and to so- licit God betimes in a manifest danger, is the best antidote for death.
I commend their wisdom, in seeking peace; I do not commend their falshood, in the manner of seeking it. Who can look for any better of Pagans ? But as the faith of Rahab is so rewarded that her lie is not punished, so the fraud of these Gibeonites is not an equal match of their belief, since the name of the Lord God of Israel brought them to this suit of peace.
Nothing is found fitter to deceive God's people, than a counter- feit copy of age : here are old sacks, old bottles, old shoes, old garments, old bread. The Israelites, that had worn one suit forty years, seemed new clad in comparison pf them. It is no new po- licy, that Satan would beguile us with a vain colour of antiquity, clothing falshood in ra^s. Errors are never the older for their patching : corruption can do the same that time would do : we may make age, as well as sufler it. These Gibeonites did tear their bottles, and shoes, and clothes, and made them naught, that they might seem old : so do the false patrons of new errors. If we be caught with this Gibeonitish stratagem, it is a sign we have not consulted with God.
The sentence of death was gone out against all the inhabitants of Canaan. These Hivites acknowledge the truth and judgments of God, and yet seek to escape by a league with Israel. The ge- neral denunciations of the vengeance of God enwrap all sinners ; yet may we not despair of mercy. If the secret counsel of the Almighty had not designed these men to life, Joshua could not have been deceived with their league. In the generality there is no hope. Let us come in old rags of our vileness to the true Joshua, and make our truce with him ; we may live, yea, we shall live.
Some of the Israelites suspect the fraud ; and, notwithstanding all their old garments and provisions, can say, // may be thou d:rellest amongst us : if Joshua had continued this doubt, the Gi- beonites had torn their bottles in A^ain. In cases and persons un- known, it is safe not to be too credulous : charity itself will allow suspicion, where we have seen no cause to trust.
If these Hivites had not put on new faces with their old clothes, they had surely changed countenance, when they heard this argu-
OF THE GIBEONITES. 175
ment of the Israelites, It may be thou dwellest amongst us ; how then can I make a league with thee ? They had perhaps hoped their submission would not have been refused, wheresoever they had dwelt; but, lest their neighbourhood might be a prejudice, - ' they come disguised ; and now hear, that their nearness of abode was an irremoveable bar of peace. It was quarrel enough, that ' they were Canaanites : God had forbidden both the league and the life of the native inhabitants. He, that calls himself the God of Peace, proclaims himself the God of Hosts ; and not to fight where he hath commanded, is to break the peace with God, while we nourish it with men. Contention with brethren is not more hateful to him, than leagues with idolaters. The condition that he hath set to our peace, is our possibility and power. That falls not within the possibility of our power, which we cannot do lawfully.
What a smooth tale did these Gibeonites tell for themselves, of the remoteness of their country, the motives of their journey, the consultation of their elders, the ageing of their provisions by the way ! that it might seem not only safe, but deserved on their parts, that they should be admitted to a peace, so far sought and pur- chased with so much toil and importunity. Their clothes and their tongues agreed together, and both disagree from the truth. De- ceit is ever lightly wrapped up in plausibility of words ; as fair faces oftentimes hide much unchastity. But this guile sped the better, because it was clad with much plainness ; for who would have suspected, that clouted shoes and ragged coats could have covered so much subtlety ? The case seemed so clear, that the Is- raelites thought it needless to consult with the mouth of the Lord. Their own eyes and ears were called only to council ; and now their credulity hath drawn them into inconvenience.
There is no way to convince the Gibeonitish pretences of anti- quity, but to have recourse to the oracle of God. Had this been advised with, none of these false rags had shamed the Church of God: whether in our practice or judgment, this direction cannot fail us ; whereas what we take upon the words of men, proves ever either light or false wares.
The facility of Israel had led them into a league, to an oath, for the safety of the Gibeonites ; and now, within three days, they find both their neighbourhood and deceit. Those old shoes of theirs would easily hold to carry them back to their home. The march of a great army is easy ; yet within three days the Israelites were before their cities. Joshua might now have taken advantage of their own words to dissolve his league, and have said, " Ye are come from a far country ; these cities are near ; these are not therefore the people, to whom we are engaged by our promise and oath : and if these cities be yours, yet ye are not yourselves. Ere- while, ye were strangers, now you are Hivites born, and dwelling in the midst of Canaan ; we will therefore destroy these cities near hand, and do you save your people afar off." It would seein very questionable, whether Joshua needed to hold himself bound to this oath ; for fraudulent conventions oblige not, and Israel had put in
174
CONTEMPLATION?.
a direct caveat of their vicinity ; yet dare not Joshua and thi? princes trust to shifts for the eluding their oath, but must faith- fullv perform what they have rashly promised.
Joshua's heart was clear from any intention of a league with a Canaanite, when he gave his oath to these disguised strangers ; yet he durst neither repeal it himself, neither do I hear him sue to Kleazar the High Priest to dispense with it, but takes himself tied to the very strict words of his oath, not to his own purpose. His tongue had bound his heart and hands, so as neither might stir ; lest while he was curious of fulfilling the will of God, he should violate the oath of God. And if the Gibconites had not known these holv bonds indissoluble, the}- neither had been so importunate to obtain their vow, nor durst they have trusted it being obtained. If either dispensation with oaths, or equivocation in oaths, had been known in the world, or at least approved, these Gibeonites had not lived, and Israel had slam them without sin : either Israel wanted skill, or our reservers honesty.
The multitude of Israel, when they came to the walls of these four exempted cities, itched to be at the spoil. Not out of a de- sire to fulfil God's commandment, but to enrich themselves, would they have fallen upon these Hivites. They thought all lost that fell beside their fingers. The wealthy citv of Jericho was first altogether interdicted them : the walls and houses either fell, or must be burnt ; the men and cattle killed ; the goods and treasure confiscate to God. Achan's booty shews that city was both rich and proud ; yet Israel might be no whit the better for them, car- rying away nothing but empty victory : and now four other cities must be exempted from their pillage. Many an envious look did Israel therefore cast upon these walls, and many bitter words did they cast out against their princes, the enemies of their gain ; whether for swearing, or for tliat they would not forswear: but howsoever, the princes might have said in a return to their fraud, " We swore indeed to vou, but not the people ;" yet, if any Is- raelite had but pulled down one stone from their walls, or shed one drop of Gibecnitish blood, he had no less plagued all Israel for pcrjurv, than Achan had before plagued them for sacrilege. The sequel shews how God would have taken it ; for when, three hun- dred years after, Saul, perhaps forgetting the vowr of his forefathers, slew some of these Gibeonites, although out of a well-meant zeal, all Israel smarted for the fact with a three years' famine, and tliat in David's reign, who received this oracle from God, It is for Saul, and for his bloody house, because he slew the Gibeonites. Neither could this wrong be expiated, but by the blood of Saul's seven sons, hanged up at the very court-gates of their father.
Joshua and the princes had promised them life ; they promised them not liberty : no covenant was past against their servitude. It was just therefore with the rulers of Israel, to make slavery the price both of their lives and their deceit. The Israelites had them- selves been druJges, if the Gibeonites had not beguiled them, and lived. The oi l rags therefore wherewith they came disguised,
OF THE GIBEONITES.
175
must now be their best suits ; and their life must be toilsomely spent in hewing of wood, and drawing of water for all Israel. How dear is life to our nature, that men can be content to pur- chase it with servitude ! It is the wisdom of God's children, to make good use of their oversights. The rash oath of Israel proves their advantage : even wicked men gain by the outside of good actions : good men make a benefit of their sins. Jos. ix.
CONTEMPLATIONS
BOOK IX.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,
SIR THOMAS EGERTON, KNIGHT,
LORD ELLESMERE, LORD CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND, CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, THE SINCERE AND GRAVE ORACLE OF EQUITY, THE GREAT AND SURE FRIEND OF THE CHURCH, THE SANCTUARY OF THE CLERGY, THE BOUNTIFUL ENCOURAGER OF LEARNING J /. //.
WITH THANKFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF GOD's BLESSING UPON THIS STATE, IN SO WORTHY AN INSTRUMENT, AND HUMBLE PRAYERS FOR HIS HAPPY CONTINUANCE, DEDICATES THIS POOR AND UNWORTHY PART OF HIS LABOURS.
THE RESCUE OF GIBEON.
The life of the Gibeonites must cost them servitude from Israel, and dangers from their neighbours, if Joshua will but sit still, the deceit of the Gibeonites shall be revenged by his enemies. Five kings are up in arms against them, and are ready to pay their fraud with violence. What should these poor men do ? If they make not their peace, they die by strangers; if ' they do make their peace with foreigners, they must die by neighbours. There is no course that threatens not some danger : we have sped well, if our choice hath lighted upon the easiest inconvenience.
If these Hivites have sinned against God, against Israel ; yet what have they done to their neighbours ? I hear of no treachery, no secret information, no attempt. I see no sin but their league with Israel, and their life : yet, for aught we find, they were free- men ; no way either obliged, or obnoxious. As Satan, so wicked men, cannot abide to lose any of their community : if a convert come home, the angels welcome him with songs, the devils follow him with uproar and fury, his old partners with scorn and obloquy.
THE RESCUE OF GIBEON.
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I find these neighbour princes half dead with fear, and yet they can find time to be sick of envy. Malice in a wicked heart is the king of passions ; all other vail and bow when it comes in place ; even their own life was not so dear to them as revenge. Who would not rather have looked, that these kings should have tried to have followed the copy of this league ? Or if their fingers did itch to fight, why did they not rather think of a defensive war against Israel, than an offensive against the Gibeonites ? Gibeon was strong, and would not be won without blood ; yet these Amo- rites, which at their best were too weak for Israel, would spend their forces before-hand on their neighbours. Here was a strong hatred in weak breasts : they feared, and yet began to fight ; they feared Israel, yet began to fight with Gibeon. If they had sat still, their destruction had not been so sudden : the malice of the wicked hastens the pace of their own judgment. No i-od is so fit for a mischievous man as his own.
Gibeon, and these other cities of the Hivites, had no king ; and none yielded and escaped, but they. Their elders consulted be- fore for their league ; neither is there any challenge sent to the king, but to the city : and now these five kings of the Amorites have unjustly compacted against them. Sovereignty abused is a great spur to courage : the conceit of authority in great persons many times lies in the way of their own safety, while it will not let them stoop to the ordinary courses of inferiors. Hence it is, that heaven is peopled with so few great-ones : hence it is, that true contentment seldom dwells high ; while meaner men of humble spirits enjoy both earth and heaven.
The Gibeonites had well proved, that though they wanted a head, yet they wanted not wit ; and now the same wit, that won Joshua and Israel to their friendship and protection, teacheth them to make use of those they had won. If they had not more trusted Joshua than their walls, they had never stolen that league; and when should they have use of their new protectors, but now that they were assailed? Whither should we fly, but to our Joshua, when the powers of darkness, like mighty Amorites, have besieged us ? If ever we will send up our prayers to him, it will be when we are beleagured with evils. If we trust to our own resistance, we cannot stand ; we cannot miscarry, if we trust to his : in vain shall we send to our Joshua in these straits, if we have not before come to him in our freedom.
Which of us would not have thought Joshua had a good pre- tence for his forbearance, and have said, " You have stolen your league with me : why do you expect help from him whom ye have deceived ? All that we promised you was a sufferance to live : en- joy what we promised ; we will not take your life from you. Hath our faithfulness deserved to expect more than our covenant? Ve never promised to hazard our lives for you ; to give you life with the loss of our own." But that good man durst not construe his own covenant to such an advantage : he knew little difference betwixt killing them with hi? own sword, and the sword of an Amo-
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
rite : whosoever should give the blow, the murder Would be his. Even permission in those things we may remedy, makes us no less actors than consent : some men kill as much by looking on, as others by smiting. We are guilty of all the evil we might have ' hindered.
The noble disposition of Joshua, besides his engagement, will not let him forsake his new vassals. Their confidence in him is argument enough to draw him into the field. The greatest obliga- tion to a good mind, is another's trust; which to disappoint were mercilessly perfidiows. How much less shall our true Joshua fail the confidence of our faith ! O my Saviour, if we send the mes- sengers of our prayers to thee into thy Gilgal, thy mercy binds thee to relief : never any soul miscarried that trusted thee : we may be wanting in our trust ; our trust can never want success.
Speed in bestowing doubles a gift : a benefit deferred loses the thanks, and proves unprofitable. Joshua marches all night, and fights all day for the Gibeonites : they took not so much pains in coming to deceive him, as he in going to deliver them. It is the noblest victory to overcome evil with good. If his very Israelites had been in danger, he could have done no more : God and his Joshua make no difference, betwixt Gibeonites Israelited and his own natural people. All are Israelites whom he hath taken to league. We, strangers of the Gentiles, are now the true Jews : God never did more for the natural olive, than for that wild imp which he hath grafted in. And as these Hivites could never be thankful enough to such a Joshua, no more can we to so gracious a Re- deemer ; who, forgetting our unworthiness, descended to our Gi- beon, and rescued us from the powers of hell and death.
Joshua fought, but God discomfited the Amorites. The praise is to the workman, not the instrument. Neither did God slay them only with Joshua's sword, but with his own hail-stones; that now the Amorites may see both these revenges come from one hand. These bullets of God do not wound, but kill. It is no wonder that these five kings fly : they may soon run away from their hope ; never from their horror. If they look behind, there is the sword of Israel, which they dare not turn upon, because God had taken their heart from them before their life : if they look upwards, there is the hail-shot of God fighting against them out of heaven, which they can neither resist nor avoid.
If they had no enemy but Israel, they might hope to run away from death, since fear is a better footman than desire of revenge ; but now whithersoever they run, heaven will be about their heads: and now, all the reason that is left them in this confusion of their thoughts, is to wish themselves well dead : there is no evasion, where God intends a revenge. We men have devised to imitate these instruments of death, and send forth deadly bullets out of a cloud of smoke, wherein yet as there is much danger, so much un- certainty ; but this God, that discharges his ordnance from heaven, directs every shot to a head, and can as easily kill as shoot. is a- fearful thing t to fall into the hands of the living God: he hatb
THE RESCUE OF GIBEON. 179
more ways of vengeance than he hath creatures. The same hea- ven, that sent forth water to the old world, fire to the Sodomites, lightning and thunderbolts to the Egyptians, sends out hail-stones to the Amorites. It is a good care how we may not anger God : it is a vain study how we may fly from his judgments, when we have angered him ; if we could run out of the world, even there shall we find his revenges far greater.
Was it not miracle enough that God did brain their adversaries from heaven, but that the sun and moon must stand still in heaven ? It is not enough that the Amoiites fly, but that the greatest planets of heaven must stay their own course, to witness and wonder at the discomfiture. For. him which gave them both being and motion to bid them stand still, it seems no difficulty, although the rareness would deserve admiration ; but for a man to command the chief stars of heaven, by whose influence he liveth, as the Centurion would do his servant, Sun, stay in Gibeon, and moon, stand still in jijalon, it is more than a wonder. It was not Joshua, but his faith that did this ; not by way of precept, but of prayer ; if I may not say, that the request of a faithful man (as we say of the great) commands. God's glory was that which Joshua aimed at : he knew that all the world must needs be witnesses of that, which the eye of the world stood still to see. Had he respected but the slaughter of the Amorites, he knew the hail-stones could do that alone : the sun needed not stand still to direct that cloud to perse- cute them ; but the glory of the slaughter was sought by Joshua, that he might send that up, whence those hail-stones and that vic- tory came. All the earth might see the sun and moon ; all could not see the cloud of hail, which because of that heavy burthen flew but low. That all nations might know, the same hand com- mands both in earth, in the clouds, in heaven, Joshua now prays, that he, which disheartened his enemies upon earth, and smote them from the cloud, would stay the sun and moon in heaven. God never got himself so much honour by one day's work amongst the heathen ; and when was it more fit than now, when five heathen kings are banded against him ?
The sun and the moon were the ordinary gods of the world; and who would not but think, that their standing still but one hour should be the ruin of nature ? And now all nations shall well see, that there is a higher than their highest ; that their gods are but servants to the God whom themselves should serve, at whose pleasure both they and nature shall stand at once. If that God which meant to work this miracle had not raised up his thoughts to desire it, it had been a blameable presumption, which now is a faith worthy of admiration. To desire a miracle without cause is a tempting of God. O powerful God that can effect this ! O power of faith that can obtain it ! What is there that God cannot do ? And what is there which God can do, that faith cannot do ? Joshua x.
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
THE ALTAR OF THE REUBENITES. Reuben and Gad were the first that had an inheritance assigned them ; yet they must enjoy it last : so it falls out often in the hea- venly Canaan ; the first in title are last in possession. They had their lot assigned them beyond Jordan ; which, though it were al- lotted them in peace, must be purchased with their war: that must be done for their brethren, which needed not be done for them- selves : they must yet still fight, and fight foremost ; that, as they had the first patrimony, they might endure the first encounter.
I do not hear them say, " This is our share; let us sit down, and enjoy it quietly ; fight who will for the rest:" but when they knew their own portion, they leave wives and children to take pos- session, and march armed before their brethren, till they had con- quered all Canaan.
Whether should we more commend, their courage, or their cha- rity ? Others were moved to fight with hope ; they only with love : they could not win more, they might lose themselves ; yet they will fight, both for that they had something, and that their brethren might have. Thankfulness and love can do more with God's chil- dren, than desire to merit, or necessity : no true Israelite can, if he might choose, abide to sit still beyond Jordan, when all his brethren are in the field.
Now, when all this war of God was ended, and all Canaan is both won and divided, they return to their own ; yet not till they were dismissed by Joshua: all the sweet attractives of their private love cannot hasten their peace. If heaven be never so sweet to us, yet may we not run from this earthly warfare, till our great captain shall please to discharge us. If these Reubenites had departed sooner, they had been recalled, if not as cowards, surely as fugi- tives ; now, they are sent back with victory and blessing. How safe and happy it is, to attend both the call and the dispatch of God !
Being returned in peace to their home, their first care is, not for trophies, nor for houses, but for an altar to God ; an altar, not for sacrifice, which had been abominable, but for a memorial what God they serve. The first care of true Israelites must be the safety of religion : the world, as it is inferior in worth, so must it be in respect: he never knew God aright, that can abide any competi- tion with his Maker.
The rest of the tribes no sooner hear news of their new al- tar, but they gather to Shiloh to fight against them: they had scarce breathing from the Canaauitish war, and now they will go fight with their brethren : if their brethren will, as they suspected, turn idolaters, they cannot hold them any other than Canaanitcs. The Reubenites and their fellows had newly settled the rest of Is- rael in their possessions; and now ere they can be warm in their .seats, Israel is up in arms to thrust them out of their own. The hatred of their suspected idolatry, makes them forget either their blood, or their benefits. Israel says, " These men were the. first in our battles, and shall be the first in our revenge : they
THE ALTAR OF THE REUBENITES. 181
fought well for us ; we will try how they can fight for themselves. What if they were our champions ! Their revolt from God hath lost them the thank of their former labours : their idolatry shall make them of brethren, adversaries ; their own blood shall give handsel to their new altar." O noble and religious zeal of Israel ! Who would think these men the sons of them, that danced about the molten calf? that consecrated an altar to that idol? Now they are ready to die or kill, rather than endure an altar without an idol. Every overture in matter of religion is worthy of suspicion, wor- thy of our speedy opposition. God looks for an early redress of the first beginnings of impiety. As in treasons or mutinies, wise statesmen find it safest to kill the serpent in the egg ; so in motions of spiritual alterations, one spoonful of water will quench that fire at the first, which afterwards whole buckets cannot abate.
Yet do not these zealous Isi-aelites run rashly and furiously upon their brethren; nor sav, " What need we expostulate? The tact is clear : what care we for words, when we see their altar ? What can this mean, but either service to a false god, or division in the service of the true ? There can be no excuse for so manifest a crime : why do we not rather think of punishment, than satisfac- tion ?" But they send ere they go, and consult ere they execute. Phineas the son of Eleazar the priest, and ten princes, for every tribe one, arc addressed both to inquire and dissuade ; to inquire of the purpose of the fact ; to dissuade from that which they imagined was purposed. Wisdom is a good guide to zeal, and only can keep it from running out into fury. If discretion do not hold in the reins, good intentions will both break their own necks and the riders' ; yea, which is strange, without this, the zeal of God may lead us from God.
Not only wisdom but charity moved them to this message ; for, grant tfiey had been guilty, must they perish unwarned ? Peace- able means must first be used to recal them, ere violence be sent to persecute them. The old rule of Israel hath been still to inquire of Abel. No good shepherd sends his dog to pull out the throat of his strayed sheep, but rather fetches it on his shoulders to the fold, Sudden cruelty stands not with religion: he which will not* himself break the bruised reed, how will he allow us, either to bruise the whole, or to break the bruised, ov to burn the broken ?
Neither yet was here more charity in sending, than uncharita- bleness in the misconstruction. They begin with a challenge ; and charge their brethren deeply with transgression, apostacy, re- bellion. I know not how two contrary qualities fall into love : it is not naturally suspicious, and yet many times suggests jealous fears of those we affect. If these Israelites had not loved their brethren, they would never have sent so far to restrain them ; they had never offered them part of their own patrimony : if they had not been excessively jealous, they had not censured a doubtful action so sharply. They met at Sbiloh, where the tabernacle was ; but if they had consulted with the ark of God, they had saved both this labour and this challenge. This ca<e seemed so plain, that they
132 CONTEMPLATIONS.
thought advice needless ; their inconsiderateness therefore brands their brethren with crimes whereof they were innocent, and makes themselves the only offenders. In cases which are doubtful and uncertain, it is safe either to suspend the judgment, or to pass it in favour ; otherwise, a plain breach of charity in us shall be worse than a questionable breach of justice in another.
Yet this little gleam of their uncharitable love began at them- selves : if they had not feared their own judgments in the offence of Reuben, I know not whether they had been so vehement : the fearful revenges of their bretiiren's sin are still in their eye. The wickedness of Peor stretched not so far as the plague : Achan sinned, and Israel was beaten ; therefore, by just induction, they argue, " Ye rebel to-day against the Lord ; to-morrow will the Lord be wroth with all the congi'egation." They still tremble at the vengeance passed ; and find it time to prevent then- own pu- nishment in punishing their brethren. God's proceedings have then their right use, when they are both carefully remembered, and made patterns of what he may do.
Had these Reubenites been as hot in their answer, as the Israel- ites were in their charge, here had grown a bloody war out of mis- prision ; but now, their answer is mild and moderate, and such as well shewed, that though they were further from the ark, yet no less near to God. They thought in themselves, *f This act of ours, though it were well meant by us, yet might well be by interpreta- tion scandalous : it is reason our mildness should give satisfaction for that offence, which we have not prevented." Hereupon their answer was as pleasing, as their act was dangerous. Even in those actions, whereby an offence may be occasioned, though not given, charity binds us to clear both our own name and the conscience of Others.
Little did the Israelites look for so good a ground of an action so suspicious. An altar without a sacrifice ! an altar, and no ta- bernacle ! an altar without a precept, and yet not against God 1 It is not safe to measure all men's actions by our own conceit ; but rather to think there may be a further drift and warrant of their act, than we can attain to see.
By that time the Reubenites have commented upon their own work, it appears as justifiable, as before offensive. What wisdom and religion is found in that altar, which before shewed nothing but idolatry ! This discourse of theirs is full both of reason and piety ; M We are severed by the river Jordan from the other tribes ; perhaps, hereafter, our choice may exclude us from Israel : poste- rity may peradventure say, ' Jordan is the bounds of all natural Israelites ; the streams whereof never gave way to those beyond the river : if they had been ours, either in blood or religion, they would not have been sequestered in habitation. Doubtless there- fore these men are the offspring of some strangers, which, by vici- nity of abode, have gotten some tincture of our language, man- ners, religion ; what have we to do with them, what have they to do with the tabernacle of God ?' Since therefore we may not ei-
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183
thcr remove God's altar to us, or remove our patrimony to the altar, the pattern of the altar shall go with us, not for sacrifice, but for memorial ; that both the posterity of the other Israelites may know we are no less derived from them than this altar from theirs, and that our posterity may know they pertain to that altar whereof this is the resemblance." There was no danger of the present ; but posterity might both offer and receive prejudice, if this monu- ment were not. It is a wise and holy care to prevent the dangers of ensuing times, and to settle religion upon the succeeding gene- rations. As we affect to leave a perpetuity of our bodily issue, so much more to traduce piety with them. Do we not see good hus- bands set and plant those trees, whereof their grand-children shall receive the first fruit, and shade ? Why are we less thrifty in leav- ing true religion entire to our children's children ? Jos. xxii.
EHUD AND EGLON. As every man is guilty of his own sorrow, these Israelites bred mis- chief to themselves. It was their mercy that plagued them with those Canaanites, which their obedience should have, rooted out. If foolish pity be a more humane sin, yet it is no less dangerous than cruelty: cruelty kills others, unjust pity kills ourselves. They had been lords alone of the promised land, if their commiseration had not over-swayed their justice ; and now, their enemies are too cruel to them, in the just revenge of God, because they were too merciful.
That God, which in his revealed will had commanded all the Canaanites to the slaughter, yet secretly gives over Israel to a to- leration of some Canaanites for their own punishment. He hath bidden us cleanse our hearts of all our corruptions; yet he will permit some of these thorns still in our sides, for exercise, for hu- miliation. If we could lay violent hands upon our sins, our souls should have peace ; now, our indulgence costs us many stripes and many tears. What a continued circle is here of sins, judgments, repentance, deliverances ! The conversation with idolaters taints them with sin ; their sin draws on judgment ; the smart of the judgment moves them to repentance ; upon their repentance fol- lows speedy deliverance ; upon their peace and deliverance they sin again.
Othnicl, Caleb's nephew, had rescued them from idolatry and servitude : his life and their innocence and peace ended together. How powerful the presence of one good man is in a church or state, is best found in his loss. A man, that is at once eminent in place and goodness, is like a stake in a hedge ; pull that up, and all the rest are but loose and rotten sticks, easily removed : or like the pillar of a vaulted roof, which either supports or ruins the building.
Who would not think idolatry an absurd and unnatural sin ? which, as it hath the fewest inducements, so had also the most di- rect inhibitions from God : and yet after all these warnings. Israel
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falls into it again : neither affliction nor repentance can secure an Israelite, from redoubling the worst sin, if he be left to his own frailty. It is no censuring of the truth of our present sorrow, by the event of a following miscarriage. The former cries of Israel to God were unfeigned, yet their present wickedness is abominable : let him thai thinks he stands, take heed lest he fall.
No sooner had he said Israel had rest, but he adds, They com~ Viitted wickedness. The security of any people is the cause of their corruption : standing waters soon grow noisome. While they were exercised with war, how scrupulous were they of the least intimation of idolatry ! the news of a bare altar beyond Jordan drew them together for a revenge : now they are at peace with their enemies, they are at variance with God. It is both hard and happy, not to be the worse with liberty. The sedentary life is most subject to diseases.
Rather than Israel shall want a scourge for their sin, God himself shall raise them up an enemy. Moab bad no quarrel but his own ambition ; but God meant by the ambition of the one part, to pu- nish the idolatry of the other : his justice can make one sin the executioner of another, whilst neither shall look for any other mea- sure from him but judgment : the evil of the city is so his, that the instrument is not guiltless. Before, God had stirred up the king of Syria against Israel ; now, the king of Moab ; afterwards, the king of Canaan : he hath more variety of judgments, than there can be offences : if we have once made him our adversary, he shall be sure to make us adversaries enough ; which shall revenge his quarrel, whilst they prosecute their own.
Even those were idolaters, by whose hands God plagued the idolatries of Israel. In Moab the same wickedness prospers, which in God's own people is punished : the justice of the Almighty can least brook evil in his own : the same heathen, which provoked Israel to sin, shall scourge them for sinning. Our very profession hurts us, if we be not innocent.
No less than eighteen years did the rod of Moab rest upon the inheritance of God. Israel seems as born to servitude ; they came from their bondage in the Land of Egypt, to serve in the Land of Promise. They had neglected God; now they are neglected of God. Their sins have made them servants, whom the choice of God had made free, yea, his first-born. Worthy are they to serve those men, whose false gods they had served ; and to serve them always in thraldom, whom they have once served in idolatry. We may not measure the continuance of punishment, bv the time of the commission of sin : one minute's sin deserves a torment be- yond all time.
Doubtless, Israel was not so insensible of their own misery, as not to complain sooner than the end of eighteen years. The first hour they sighed for themselves, but now they cried unto God. The very purpose of affliction is, to make us importunate : he that hears the secret murmurs of our grief, yet will not seem to hear us, till our cries be loud and strong. God sees it best, to let the peni-
EHUD AND EGLON, 185
tent dwell for the time under their sorrows : he sees us sinking all the while, yet he lets us alone, till we be at the bottom ; and when once we can say, Out of the depths have I tried to thee, instantly follows, The Lord heard me. A vehement suitor cannot but be heard of God, whatsoever he asks. If our prayers want success, they want heart ; their blessing is according to their vigour. We live in bondage to these spiritual Moabites, our own corruptions: it discontents us ; but where are our strong cries unto the God of heaven ? Where are our tears ? If we could passionately bemoan ourselves to him, how soon should we be more than conquerors' Some good motions we have to send up to him, but they faint in the way. We may call long enough, if we cry not to him.
The same hand, that raised up Eglon against Israel, raised up also Ehud for Israel against Eglon. When that tyrant had revenged God of his people, God will revenge his people of him. It is no privilege, to be an instrument of God's vengeance by evil means. Though Eglon were an usurper, yet had Ehud been a traitor, if God had not sent him : it is only in the power of him that makes kings, when they are once settled, to depose them. It is no more possible for our modern butchers of princes, to shew they are em- ployed by God, than to escape the revenge of God, in offering to do this violence, not being employed.
What a strange choice doth God make of an executioner ! A man shut of his right-hand ! Either he had but one hand, or used but one, and that the worse, and the more unready. Who would not have thought both hands too little for such a work ; or, if either might have been spared, how much rather the left? God sceth not as man seeth : it is the ordinary wont of the Almighty, to make choice of the unlikeliest means.
The instruments of God must not be measured by their own power or aptitude, but by the will of the agent. Though Ehud had no hands, he that employed him had enabled him to this slaughter. In human things, it is good to look to the means ; in divine, to the worker : no means are to be contemned that God will use, no means to be trusted that man will use without him.
It is good to be suspicious where is least shew of danger, and most appearance of favour. This left-handed man comes with a present in his hand, but a dagger under his skirt. The tyrant, be- sides service, looked for gifts ; and now receives death in\his bribe: neither God nor men do always give where they love. How oft doth God give extraordinary illumination, power of miracles, be- sides wealth and honour, where he hates ! So do men too oft ac- company their curses with presents ; either lest an enemy should hurt us, or that we may hurt them. The intention, is the favour in gifts, and not the substance.
Ehud's faith supplies the want of his hand. Where God intends success, he lifts up the heart with resolutions of courage and con- tempt of danger. What indifferent beholder of this project would not have condemned it, as unlikely to speed ; to see a maimed man go alone to a great king, in the midst of all his troops ; to
186 CONTEMPLATIONS.
single him out from all witnesses ; to set upon him with one hand in his own parlour, where his courtiers might have heard the least ex- clamation, and have come in, if not to the rescue, yet to the revenge ? Every circumstance is full of improbabilities. Faith evermore overlooks the difficulties of the way, and bends her eyes only to the certainty of the end. In this intestine slaughter of our tyrannical corruptions, when we cast our eyes upon ourselves, we might well despair : alas, what can our left hands do against these spiritual wickednesses ? But when we see who hath both commanded, and undertaken to prosper these holy designs, how can we misdoubt the success ? lean do all things through him that strengthens me.
When Ehud had obtained the convenient secrecy both of the weapon and place, new with a confident forehead he approaches the tyrant, and salutes him with a true and awful preface to so im- portant an act : / have a message io thee from God. Even Ehud's poniard was God's message : not only the vocal admonitions, but also the real judgments of God, are his errands to the world. He speaks to us in rain and waters, in sicknesses and famine, in unsea- sonable times and inundations : these are the secondary messages of God ; if we will not hear the first, we must hear these to our cost.
I cannot but wonder at the devout reverence of this heathen prince : he sat in his chair of state ; the unwieldiness of his fat body was such, that he could not rise with readiness and ease; yet no sooner dotn he hear news of a message from God, but he rises up from his throne, and reverently attends the tenor thereof. Though lie had no superior to control him, yet he cannot abide to be unmannerly in the business of God.
. This man was an idolater, a tyrant ; yet what outward respects doth he give to the true God ! External ceremonies of piety, and compliments of devotion, may well ba found with falshood in re- ligion. They are a good shadow of truth where it is ; but where it is not, they are the very body of hypocrisy. He, that had risen up in arms against God's people and the true worship of God, now rises up in reverence to his name. God would have liked well, to have had less of his courtesy, more of his obedience.
He looked to have heard the message with his ears, and he feels it in his guts : so sharp a message, that it pierced the body, and let out the soul through that unclean passage : neither did it admit of any answer, but silence and death. In that part had lie offended by pampering it, and making it bis god ; and now his bane finds the same wray with his sin.
This one hard and cold morsel, which he cannot digest, pays for all those gluttonous delicates, whereof he had formerly surfeited. It is the manner of God, to take fearful revenges of the professed enemies of his Church.
It is a marvel, that neither any noise in his dying, nor the fall of so gross a body, called in some of his attendants ; but that God, which hath intended to bring about any design, disposes of all cir- cumstances to his own purpose. If Ehud had not come forth with a calm and settled countenance, and shut the doors after him, all
JAEt AND STSERA. 1S7
his project had heen in the dust. What had it heen better that the king of Moab was slain, if Israel had neither had a messenger to inform, nor a captain to guide them ? Now he departs peaceably, and blows a trumpet in Mount Ephraim ; gathers Israel, and falls upon the body of Moab, as well as he had done upon the head ; and procures freedom to his people. He, that would undertake great enterprizes, had need of wisdom and courage ; wisdom to con- trive, and courage to execute ; wisdom to guide his courage, and courage to second his wisdom ; both which, if they meet with a good cause, cannot but succeed. Judges Hi.
JAEL AND SISERA.
It is no wonder if they, who ere fourscore days after the law delivered, fell to idolatry alone, now after fourscore years since the law restored, fell to idolatry among the Canaanites. Peace could, in a shorter time, work looseness in any people. And if forty years after OthjueVs deliverance they relapsed, what mar- vel is it that in twice forty after Ehud they thus miscarried ? What are they the better to have killed Eglon the king of Moab, if the idolatry of Moab have killed them ? The sin of Moab shall be found a worse tyrant than their Eglon. Israel is for every market: they sold themselves to idolatry, God sells them to the Canaanites: it is no marvel the}' are slaves,, if they will be idolaters. After their longest intermission, they have now the sorest bondage. None of their tyrants were so potent, as Jabin with his nine hun- dred chariots of iron. The longer the reckoning is deferred, the greater is the sum : God provides on purpose mighty adversaries for his Church, that their humiliation may be the greater in sus- taining, and his glory may be greater in deliverance.
I do not find any prophet in Israel, during their sin ; but so soon as I hear news of their repentance, mention is made of a pro- phetess, and judge of Israel. There is no better sign of God's re- conciliation, than the sending of his holy messengers to any peo- ple : he is not utterly fallen out with those, whom he blesses with prophecy. Whom yet do I see raised to this honour ? Not any of the princes of Israel ; not Barak the captain ; not Lapidoth the husband; but a woman, for the honour of her sex; a wile, for the honour of wedlock : Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth.
He, that had choice of all the millions of Israel, calls out two weak women, to deliver his people : Deborah shall judge, Jael shall execute. All the palaces of Israel must yield to the palm- tree of Deborah. The weakness of the instruments redounds to the greater honour of the workman. Who shall ask God any rea- son of his elections, but his own pleasure ? Deborah was to sen- tence, not to strike ; to command, not to execute : this act is mas- culine, fit for some captain of Israel. She was the head of Israel ; it was meet some other should be the hand. It is an imperfect and titular government, where there is a commanding power, without
18$
CONTEMPLATIONS.
correction, without execution. The message of Deborah find** out Barak the son of Abinoam in his obscure secrecy ; and calls him from a corner of Napthali,to the honour of this exploit. He is sent for, not to get the victory, but to take it ; not to overcome, but to kill ; to pursue, and not to beat Sisera. Who could not have done this work, whereto not much courage, no skill belong- ed r Yet even for this, will God have an instrument of his own choice : it is most fit, that God should serve himself where he list, of his own ; neither is it to be inquired, whom we think meet for any employment, but whom God barb called.
Deborah had been no prophetess, if she durst have sent in her own name. Her message is from him that sent herself ; Hath not the Lord God of Israel commanded ? Barak's answer is faithful, though conditionate ; and doth not so much intend a refusal to go without her, as a necessary bond of her presence with him. Who can blame him, that he would have a prophetess in his company ? If the man had not been as holy as valiant, he would not have wished such society. How manv think it a perpetual bondage, to have a prophet of God at their elbow ! God had never sent for him so far, if he could have been content to go up without Debo- rah : he knew, that there was both a blessing and encouragement in that presence. It is no putting any trust in the success of those men, that neglect the messengers of God.
To prescribe that to others, which we draw back from doing our- selves, is an argument of hollowness and falsity. Barak shall see, that Deborah doth not offer him that cup whereof she dare not be- gin : without regard of her sex, she marches with him to Mount Tabor, and rejoices to be seen of the ten thousand of Israel. With what scorn did Sisera look at these gleanings of Israel ! How une- qual did this match seem of ten thousand Israelites against, his three hundred thousand foot, ten thousand horse, nine hundred chariots of iron ! And now in a bravery he calls for his troops, and means to kill this handful of Israel with the very sight of his piked cha- riots ; and only feared it would be no victory to cut the throats of so few. The faith of Deborah and Barak was not appalled with this world of adversaries, which from Mount Tabor they saw hiding all the valley below them : they knew whom thev had believed, and how little an arm of flesh could do against the God of Hosts.
Barak went down against Sisera, but it was God that destroyed him. The Israelites did not this dav wield their own swords, lest they should arrogate any thing. God told them before- hand it should be his own act. I hear not of one stroke that any Canaanite gave in this fight ; as if they were called hither only to suffer. And now proud Sisera, after many curses of the heaviness of that iron carriage, is glad to quit his chariot and betake himself to his heels. Who ever yet knew any earthly thing trusted in, without disap- pointment ? It is wonder if God make us not at last, as weary of whatsoever hath stolen our hearts from him, as ever we were fond.
Yet Sisera hopes to have sped better than his followers, in so sea-
JAEL AND SISERA. 189
sonablc a harbour of Jael. If Heber and Jael had not been great persons, there had been no note taken of their tents ; there had been no league betwixt king Jabin and them : now, their great- ness makes them known, their 'league makes them trusted. The distress of Sisera might have made him importunate ; but Jael be- gins the courtesy, and exceeds the desire of her guest : he asks water to drink, she gives him milk ; he wishes but shelter, she makes him a bed ; he desires the protection of her tent, she covers him with a mantle. And now Sisera pleases himself with his happy change, and thinks how much better it is to be here, than in that whirling of chariots, in that horror of flight, amongst those shrieks, those wounds, those carcases. While he is in these thoughts, his weariness and easy r.-posal hath brought him asleep. Who would have looked, that in this tumult and danger, even betwixt the very jaws of death, Sisera should find time to sleep ? How many world- ly hearts do so, in the midst of their spiritual perils !
Now, while he was dreaming doubtless of the clashing of ar- mours, rattling of chariots, neighing of horses, the clamour of the conquered, the furious pursuit of Israel, Jael, seeing his temples lie so fair, as if they invited the nail and hammer, entered into the thought of this noble execution ; certainly not without some checks of doubt, and pleas of fear: " What if I strike him ! And yet w ho am I, that I should dare to think of such an act ? Is not this Sisera, the most famous captain of the world, whose name hath wont to be fearful to whole nations ? What if my hand should swerve in the stroke ! What if he should awake, while I am lilt- ing up this instrument of death ! What if I should be surprised by some of his followers, while the fact is green and yet bleeding! Can the murder of so great a leader be hid or unrevenged ? Or if I might hope .so, yet can my heart allow me to be secretly trea- cherous ? Is there not peace betwixt my house and him ? Did not I invite him to my tent ? Doth he not trust to my friendship and hospitality ? But what do these weak fears, these idle fancies of civility ? If Sisera be in league with us, yet is he not at defiance with God ? Is he not a tyrant to Israel ? Is it for nothing that God hath brought him into my tent ? May I not now find means to re- pay unto Israel all their kindness to my grandfather Jcthro ? Doth not God offer me this day, the honour to be the rescuer of his peo- ple ? Hath God bidden me strike, and shall I hold my hand ? No, Sisera, sleep now thy last, and take here this fatal reward of all thy cruelty and oppression."
He, that put this instinct into her heart, did put also strength into her hand : he, that guided Sisera to her tent, guided the nail through his temples ; which hath made a speedy way for his soul through those parts, and now hath fastened his ear so close to the earth, as if the body had been listening what was become of the soul. There lies now the great terror of Israel, at the foot of a woman. He, that brought so many hundred thousands into the field, hath not now one page left, either to avert Ins death, or to ac-
190
CONTEMPLATIONS.
company it, or bewail it. He, that had vaunted of his iron cha- riots, is slain by one nail of iron ; wanting only this one point of his infelicity, that he knows not by whose hand he perished.
Judges iv.
GIDEON'S CALLING.
The judgments of God, still the further they go, the sorer they are : the bondage of Israel under Jabin was great, but it was free- dom in comparison of the yoke of the Miclianites. During the former tyranny, Deborah was permitted to judge Israel under a palm-tree ; under this, not so much as private habitations will be allowed to Israel. Then, the seat of judgment was in sight of the sun ; now, their very dwellings must be secret under the earth. The}', that rejected the protection of God, are glad to seek to the mountains for shelter ; and as they had savagely abused themselves, so they are fain to creep into dens and caves of the rocks, like wild creatures, for safeguard. God had sown spiritual seed a- mongst them, and they suffered their heathenish neighbours to pull it up by the roots ; and now, no sooner can they sow their mate- rial seed, but Midianites and Amalekites are ready by force to de- stroy it. As they inwardly dealt with God, so God deals outwardly by them. Their eyes may tell them what their souls have done ; yet that God, whose mercy is above the worst of our sins, sends first his prophet with a message of reproof, and then his angel with a message of deliverance. The Israelites had smarted enough with their servitude, yet God sends them a sharp rebuke. It is a good sign when God chides us ; his round reprehensions are ever gracious forerunners of mercy ; whereas his silent connivance at the wicked, argues deep and secret displeasure. The prophet made way for the angel, reproof for deliverance, humiliation for comfort.
Gideon was thrashing wheat by the wine-press. Yet, Israel hath both wheat and wine, for all the incux'sions of their enemies. The worst estate out of hell hath either some comfort, or at least some mitigation. In spite of the malice of the world, God makes se- cret provision for his own. How should it be, but he, that owns the earth and all creatures, should reserve ever a sufficiency from fo- reigners (such the wicked are) for his houshold ? In the worst of the Midianitish tyranny, Gideon's field and barn are privileged ; as his fleece was afterwards from the shower.
Why did Gideon thrash out his corn ? To hide it ; not from his neighbours, but his enemies : his granary might easily be more close than his barn. As then, Israelites thrashed out their corn, to hide it from the Midianites ; but now, Midianites thrash out corn, to hide it from the Israelites. These rural tyrants of our time do not more lay up corn than curses : He that xrithdrait'cih com, (he people will curse him ; yea, God will curse him, with tliem, and for them.
Gideon's calling. 191 What shifts nature will make to live ! Oh that we could be so careful to lay up spiritual food for our souls, out of the reach of those spiritual Midianites ! We could not but live, in despite of all adversaries.
The angels, that have ever God in their face, and in their thoughts, have him also in their mouths : The Lord is with thee. But this, which appeared unto Gideon, was the Angel of the Covenant, the Lord of angels. While he was with Gideon, he might well say, The Lord is with thee. He that sent the Comforter was also tha true comforter of his Church : he well knew, how to lay a sure ground of consolation ; and that the only remedy of sorrow, and beginning of true joy, is the presence of God. The grief of the Apostles for the expected loss of their master, could never be cured by any receipt but this, of the same angel, Behold I am with you to the end of the world. What is our glory, but the fruition of God's presence ? The punishment of the damned is a separation from the beatifical face of God ; needs must therefore his absence in this life be a great torment to a good heart : and no cross can be equivalent to this beginning of heaven in the elect, 'I'he Lord is with thee.
Who can complain cither of solitariness or opposition, that hath God with him ? With him, nut only as a witness, but as a party. Even wicked men and devils cannot exclude God : not the bars of hell can shut him out: he is with them perforce, but to judge, to punish them ; yea, God will be ever with them to their cost ; but to protect, comfort, save, he is with none but his.
While he calls Gideon valiant, he makes him so. How could he be but valiant, that had God with him ! The godless man may be careless, but cannot be other than cowardly. It pleases God to acknowledge his own graces in men, that he may interchange his own glory with their comfort ; how much more should we confess the graces of one another ! An envious nature is prejudicial to God : he is a strange man in whom there is not some visible good ; yea, in the devils themselves we may easily note some commendable parts, of knowledge, strength, agility : let God have his own in the worst creature ; vea, let the worst creature have that praise which God would put upon it.
Gideon cannot pass over this salutation, as some fashionable compliment j but lays hold on that part, which was most impor- tant ; the tenure of all his comfort ; and, as not regarding the praise of his valour, inquires after that which should be the ground of his valour, the presence of God. God had spoken particularly to him ; lie expostulates for all. It had been possible God should be present with him, not with the rest; as he promised to have been with Moses, Israel : and yet when God says The Lord is with thee, he answers, Alas, Lord, if the Lord be with us. Gideon cannot conceive of himself as an exempt person ; but puts himself among the throng of Israel, as one that could not be sensible of any par- ticular comfort, while the common case of Israel laboured. The main-care of a good heart is still for the public ; neither can it en -
192 CONTEMPLATIONS.
joy itself, while the Church of God is distressed. As faith draws home generalities, so charity diffuses generalities from itself to all.
Yet the valiant man was here weak ; weak in faith, weak in dis- course ; while he argues God's absence by affliction, his presence by deliverances, and the unlikelihood of success by his own dis- ability ; all gross inconsequences. Rather should he have inferred God's presence upon their correction ; for wheresoever God chas- tises, there he is, yea, there he is in mercy : nothing more proves us his, than his stripes ; he will not bestow whipping where he loves not. Fond nature thinks God should not suffer the wind to blow upon his dear ones, because herself makes this use of her own in- dulgence ; but none out of the place of torment have suffered so much as his dearest children. He says not, " We are idolaters ; therefore the Lord hath forsaken us, because we have forsaken him." This sequel had been as good, as the other was faulty ; " The Lord hath delivered us unto the Midianites, therefore he hath forsaken us." Sins, not afflictions, argue God absent.
While Gideon bewrayeth weakness, God both gives him might and employs it; Go in this thy might, and save Israel. Who would not nave looked, that God should have looked angrily on him, and chid him for his unbelief? But he, whose mercy will not quench the weakest fire of grace though it be but in flax, looks upon him with compassionate eyes ; and to make good his own word, gives him that valour he had acknowledged.
Gideon had not yet said, " Lord, deliver Israel:" much less had he said, " Lord, deliver Israel by my hand." The mercy of God prevents the desire of Gideon. If God should not begin with us, we should be ever miserable. If he should not give us till we ask, yet who should give us to ask ? If his Spirit did not work those holy groans and sighs in us, we should never make suit to God. He, that commonly gives us power to crave, sometimes gives us without craving; that the benefit might be so much more wel- come, by how much less it was expected ; and we so much more thankful, as he is more forward. When he bids us ask, it is not for that he needs to be entreated, but that he may make us more capable of blessings by desiring them ; and where he sees fervent desires, he stays not for words; and he that gives ere we ask, how much more will he give when we ask ?
He that hath might enough to deliver Israel, yet hath not might enough to keep himself from doubting. The strongest faith will ever have some touch of infidelity. And yet this was not so much a distrust of the possibilitv of delivering Israel, as an inquiry after the means ; Whereby shall I save Israel ? The salutation of the angel to Gideon was as like Gabriel's salutation of the blessed Vir- gin, as their answers were like : both angels brought news of deli- verance ; both were answered with a question of the means of per- formance, with a report of the difficulties in performing : Ah, my Lord, whereby shall I save Israel ? How the good man dispa- rages himself f " It is a great matter, O Lord, that thou speaker of ; and great actions require mighty agents : as. for me, who am 1 ?
Gideon's calling. 3 93
My tribe is none of the greatest in Israel ; my father's family is one of tlie meanest in his tribe, and I the meanest in his family : poverty is a sufficient bar to great enterprizcs."
Whereby shall 1 ? Humility is both a sign of following glory, and a way to it, and an occasion of it. Bragging and height of spirit will not carry it with God : none have ever been raised by him, but those which have formerly dejected themselves ; none have been confounded by him, that have been abased in themselves. Thereupon it is that he adds ; / will there/ore be with thee; as if he had answered, " Hadst thou not been so poor in thyself, I would not have wrought by thee." How should God be magnified in his mercies, if we were not unworthy ? how should he be strong, if not in our weakness ?
All this while, Gideon knew not it was an angel that spake with him. He saw a man stand before him like a traveller, with his staff in his hand. The unusualness of those revelations in those cor- rupted times was such, that Gideon might think of any thing ra- ther than an angel. No marvel if so strange a promise from an un- known messenger, found not a perfect assent. Fain would he be- lieve, but fain would he have good warrant for his faith. In mat- ters of faith, we cannot go upon too sure grounds. As Moses therefore, being sent upon the same errand, desired a sign, whereby Israel might know that God sent him ; so Gideon desires a sign from this bearer, to know that his news is from God.
Yet the very hope of so happy news, not yet ratified, stirs Tip in Gideon both joy and thankfulness. After all the injury of the Midianites, he was not so poor but he could bestow a kid and cakes upon the reporter of such tidings. Those, which are rightly affected with the glad news of our spiritual deliverance, study to shew their loving respects to the messengers'.
The angel stays for the preparing of Gideon's feast. Such pica- sure doth God take in the thankful endeavours of his servants, that he patiently waits upon the leisure of our performances. Gideon intended a dinner ; the angel turned it into a sacrifice. He, whose meat and drink it was to do his Father's will, calls for the broth and flesh to be poured out upon the stone; and when Gideon looked he should have blessed and eaten, he touches the feast with his staff, and consumes it with fire from the stone, and departs. He did not strike the stone with his staff, for the attrition of two hard bodies would naturally beget fire, but he touched the meat, and brought fire from the stone ; and now, while Gideon saw and wondered at the spiritual act, he lost the sight of the agent.
He, that came without intreating, would not have departed with- out taking leave, but that he might increase Gideon's wonder, and that his wonder might increase his faith. His salutation therefore "waenot so strange, as his farewell. Moses touched the rock with his staff, and brought forth water, and yet a man, and yet continued with the Israelites. This messenger touches the stone with his staff, and brings forth fire, and presently vanishes, that he may ap- prove himself a spirit. And now Gideon, when he had gathered
vol., I. o
19* CONTEMPtATrpNJ,
up himself, must needs think ; " He, that can raise fire out of a stone, can raise courage and power out of my dead breast : he, that by this fire hath consumed the broth and flesh, can by the feeble flame of my fortitude consume Midian."
Gideon did not so much doubt before, as now he feared. We, that shall once live with and belike the angels, in the estate of our impotency think we cannot see an angel and live. Gideon was ac- knowledged for mighty in valour, yet he trembles at the sight of an angel. Peter, that durst draw his sword upon Malchus and all the train of Judas, yet fears when he thought he had seen a spirit. Our natural courage cannot bear us out against spiritual objects. This angel was homely and familiar, taking upon him for the time a resemblance of that Mesh whereof he would afterwards take the substance ; yet even the valiant Gideon quakes to have seen him. How awful and glorious is the God of angels, when he will be seen in the state of heaven !
The angel that departed for the wonder, yet returns for the com- fort of Gideon. It is not the wont of God to leave his children in a maze ; but he brings them out in the same mercy which led them in, and will magnify his grace in the one, no less than his power in the other.
Now Gideon grows acquainted with God, and interchanges pledges of familiarity. He builds an altar to God, and God confers with him ; and, as he uses where he loves, employs him. His first task must be, to destroy the god of the Midianites ; then the idol- aters themselves. While Baal's altar and grove stood in the hill of Ophrah, Israel should in vain hope to prevail. It is most just with God, that judgment should continue with the sin ; and no less mercy, if it may remove after it. Wouldst thou fain be rid of any judgment r inquire what false altars and groves thou hast in thy heart. Down with them first.
First must Baal's altar be ruined, ere God's be built ; both may not stand together : the true God will have no society with idols, neither will allow it us. I do not hear him say, " That altar and grove which were abused to Baal, consecrate now to me ;" but, as one whose holy jealousy will abide no worship till there be no idolatry, he first commands down the monuments of superstition, and then enjoins his own service ; yet the wood of Baal's grove must be used to burn a sacrifice unto God : when it was once cut down, God's detestation and their danger ceased. The good crea- tures of God, that have been profaned to idolatry, may, in a change of their use, be employed to the holy service of" their Maker.
Though some Israelites were penitent under this humiliation, yet still many of them persisted in their wonted idolatry : the very household of Gideon's father were still Baalites, and his neigh- bours of Ophrah were in the same sin ; yea, if his father had been free, what did he with Baal's grove and altar ? He dares not there- fore take his father's servants, though he took his bullocks, but commands his own. The master is best seen in the servants: Qideon's servants, amongst the idolatrous retinue of Joash, are re-
Gideon's preparation and victory. 195
ligious, like their master ; yet the mis-devotion of Joash and the Ophrathites was not obstinate. Joash is easily persuaded by his sons, and easily persuades his neighbours, how unreasonable it is to plead for such a god as cannot speak for himself ; to revenge his cause, that could not defend himself. Let Baal plead for himself. One example of a resolute onset in a noted person, may do more good than a thousand seconds in the proceeding of an action.
Soon are all the Midianites in an uproar to lose their god. They need not now be bidden to muster themselves for revenge. He hath no religion, that can suffer an indignity offered to his god.
Judges vi.
GIDEON'S PREPARATION AND VICTORY. Of all the instruments that God did use in so great a work, I find none so weak as Gideon ; who yet, of all others, was styled va- liant : natural valour may well stand with spiritual cowardice. Be- fore he knew that he spake with a God, he might have just colours for his distrust ; but after God had approved his presence and al- mighty power, by fetching fire out of the stone, then to call for a watery sign of his promised deliverance, was no other than to pour water upon the fire of the Spirit. The former trial God gave, va- nished ; this, upon Gideon's choice and intreaty. The former mi- racle was strong enough, to carry Gideon through his first exploit of ruining the idolatrous grove and altar ; but now, when he saw the swarm of the Midianites and Amalekites about his ears, he calls for new aid ; and not trusting to his Abiezrites and his other thousands of Israel, he runs to God for a further assurance of victory.
The refuge was good, but the manner of seeking it savours of distrust. There is nothing more easy, than to be valiant when no peril appcareth ; but when evils assail us upon equal terms, it is hard and commendable not to be dismayed. If God had made that proclamation now, which afterwards was commanded to be made by Gideon, Let the timorous depart, I doubt whether Israel had not wanted a guide : yet how willing is the Almighty to satisfy our weak desires !
What tasks is he content to be set by our infirmity ! The fleece must be wet, and the ground dry ; the ground must be wet, and the fleece dry : both are done : that now Gideon may see whether he would make himself hard earth, or yielding wool. God could at pleasure distinguish betwixt him and the Midianites; and pour down cither mercies or judgment where he lists ; and that he was set on work by that God, which can command all the elements, and they obey him. Fire, water, earth, serve both him, and, when he will, his.
And now, when Gideon had his reciprocal proof of his ensuing success, he goes on, as he well may, harnessed with resolution, and is seen in the head of his troops, and in the face of the Midianites, If we cannot make up the match with God, when we have our own asking, we are worthy to sit out.
I§£ CONTEMPLATIONS.
Gideon had but thirty two thousand soldiers at his heels ; the Midianites covered all the valley, like grasshoppers : and now, while the Israelites think, "We are too few;" God says, The people are too many. If the Israelites must have looked for vic- tory from their fingers, they might well have said, " The Midian- ites are too many for us ;" but that God, whose thoughts and words are unlike to men's, says, They are too many for me to give the Midianites into their hands. If human strength were to be op- posed, there should have needed an equality ; but now God meant to give the victory, his care is not how to get it, but how not to lose or blemish the glory of it gotten. How jealous God is of his ho- nour ! He is willing to give deliverance to Israel, but the praise of the deliverance he will keep to himself; and will shorten the means, that he may have the full measure of the glory. And if he will not allow lawful means to stand in the light of his honour, how will he endure it to be crossed so much as indirectly: it is less danger to steal an}- tiling from God, than his glory. As a prince, which if we steal or clip his coin, may pardon it ; but if we go about to rob him of his crown, will not be appeased.
There is nothing that we can give to God, of whom we receive all things: that which he is content to part with, he gives us ; but he will not abide we should take ought from him, which he would re- serve for himself. It is all one with him to save with many, as with few ; but he rather chuscs to save by few, that all the victory may redound to himself. O God, what art thou the better for praises, to whom, because thou art infinite, nothing can be added ? It is for our good that thou wouldst be magnified of us. Oh teach us to receive the benefit of thy merciful favours, and to return thee the thanks.
Gideon's army must he lessened. Who are so fit to be cashiered as the fearful ? God bids him therefore proclaim licence for all faint hearts to leave the field. An ill instrument may shame a good work : God will not glorify himself by cowards. As the timorous shall be without the gates of heaven, so shall they be without the lists of God's field. Although it was not their courage that should save Israel, yet without their courage God would not serve himself of them. Christianity requires men ; for if our spiritual difficul- ties meet not with high spirits, instead of whetting our fortitude, they quell it. David's royal band of worthies was the type of the forces of the Church ; all Valiant men, and able to encounter with thousands.
Neither must we be strong onlv, but acquainted with our own re- solutions; not out of any carnal presumption, but out of a faithful reliance upon the strength of God, in whom when we are weak, then we are strong. O thou white-liver ! doth but a foul word or a frown scare thee from Christ ? Doth the loss of a little land or silver disquiet thee ? Doth but the sight of the Midianites in the valley strike thee ? Home then, home to the world ; thou art not then "for the conquering band of Christ : if thou canst not resolve
gideon's preparation and victory. 197
to follow him through infamy, prisons, racks, gibbets, flames, de- part to thine house, and save thy life to thy loss.
Methinks now, Israel should have complained of indignity, and have said, " Why shouldest thou think, O Gideon, that there can be a cowardly* Israelite ? And if the experience of the power and mercy of God be not enough to make us fearless, yet the sense of servitude must needs have made us resolute ; for who would not rather to be buried dead, than quick ? Are we not fain to hide our heads in the caves of the earth, and to make our graves our houses t Not so much as the very light that we can freely enjoy; thetvranny of deatb is but short and easv, to this of Midian ; and yet what danger can there be of that, since thou hast so certainly assured us of God's promise of victory, and his miraculous con- firmation ? No, Gideon, those hearts, that have brought us hither after thy colours, can as well keep ns {rem retiring."
But now, who can but bless himself, to find, of two and thirty thousand Israelites, two and twenty thousand cowards? Yet all these in Gideon's march made as fair a flourish of courage as the boldest. Who can trust the faces of men, that sees in the army of Israel above two for one timorous ? How many make a glorious shew in the warfaring church, which, when they shall see danger of persecution, shall shrink from the standard of God ! Hope of safety, examples of neighbours, desire of praise, fear of censures, coaction of laws, fellowship of friends, draw many into the field ; which, so soon as ever they see the adversary, repent of their con- ditions ; and if they may cleanly escape, will be gone early from Mount Gilead. Can any man be offended at the number of these shriiikers, when he sees but ten thousand Israelites left of two and thirty thousand, in a morning?
These men, that would have been ashamed to go away by day, now drop away by night ; and if Gideon should have called any one of them back, and said, " Wilt thou fly ?" would have made an excuse. The darkness is a fit veil for their paleness, or blush- ing : fearfulness cannot abide the light. None of these thousands of Israel, but would have been loth Gideon, should have seen his face, while he said, " I am fearful ;" very shame holds some in their station, whose hearts are already fled. And if we cannot en- dure that men should be witnesses of that fear which we might live to correct, how shall we abide once to shew our fearful heads before that terrible Judge, when he calls us forth to the punish- ment of our fear ? Oh the vanity of foolish hypocrites, that run upon the terrors of God, while they would avoid the shame of men .'
Mow do we think the small remainder of Israel looked, when, in the next morning-muster, they found themselves but ten thousand left J How did they accuse their timorous countrymen, that had left but this handful to encounter the millions of Midian ! And yet still God complains of too many ; and upon his trial dismisses nine thousand seven hundred more. His first trial was of the va- lour of their minds; his next is of the ability of their bodies. Those, which, besides boldness, are not strong, patient of labour
19S CONTEMPLATIONS.
and thirst, willing to stoop, content with a little (such were those that took up water with their hands) are not for the select band of God. The Lord of Hosts will serve himself of none but able cham- pions : if ^he have therefore singled us into his combat, this very choice argues that he finds that strength in us, which we cannot confess in ourselves. How can it but comfort us in our great trials, that if the Searcher of hearts did not find us ' fit, he would never honour us with so hard an employment ?
Now, when there is not scarce left one Israelite to every thousand of the Midianites, it is seasonable with God to join battle. When God hath stripped us of all our earthly confidence, then doth he find time to give us victory ; and not till then, lest he should be a loser in our gain : like as at last he unclothes us of our body, that he may clothe us upon with glory.
If Gideon feared when he had two and thirty thousand Israelites at his heels, is it in any wonder if he feared when all these were shrunk into three hundred ? Though his confirmation were more, yet his means were abated. Why was not Gideon rather the leader of those two and twenty thousand runaways, than of these three hun- dred soldiers ? O infinite mercy and forbearance of God, that takes not vantage of so strong an infirmity ; but instead of cast- ing, encourages him I That wise Providence hath prepared a dream in the liead of one Midianite, an interpretation in the mouth of another, and hath brought Gideon to be an auditor of both, and hath made his enemies prophets of his victory, encouragers of the attempt, proclaimers of their own confusion. A Midianite dreams; a Midianite interprets. Our very dreams many times are not with- out God : there is a providence in our sleeping fancies : even the enemies of God may have visions, and power to construe them aright. How usually are wicked men forewarned of their own de- struction ! To foreknow and not avoid, is but an aggravation of judgment.
When Gideon heard good news, though from an enemy, he fell down and worshipped. To hear himself but a barley cake troubled him not, when he heard withal, that his rolling down the hill should break the tents of Midian. It matters not how base we be thought, so we may be victorious. The soul, that hath received full confirmation from God in the assurance of his salvation, cannot but bow the knee, and by all gestures of body tell how it is ravished.
I would have thought, Gideon should rather have found full con- firmation in the promise and act of God, than in the dream of the Midianite. Dreams may be full of uncertainty ; God's undertak- ings are infallible : well therefore might the miracle of God give strength to the dream of a Midianite ; but what strength could a Pagan's dream give to the miraculous act of Cod r yet by this is Gideon thoroughly settled. When we are going, a little thing drives us on ; when we are come near to the shore, the very tide without sails is enough to put us into the harbour.
We shall now hear no more of Gideon's doubts, but of his at- chievements ; and though God had promised by these three hun-
THE REVENGE OF SUCCOTH AND PENUEL. 199
dred to chase the Midianites, yet he neglects not wise stratagems to effect it. To wait for God's performance in doing nothing, is to abuse that divine Providence, which will so work, that will not al- low us idle.
Now, when we would look that Gideon should give charge of whetting their swords, and sharpening their spears, and fitting their armour, fie only gives order for empty pitchers, and lights, and trumpets. The ciacking of these pitchers shall break in pieces this Midianitish clay: the kindling of these lights shall extinguish the light of Midian : these trumpets sound no other than a soul-peal to all the host of Midian : there shall need nothing but noise and light, to confound this innumerable army.
And if the pitchers, and brands, and trumpets of Gideon, did so daunt and dismay the proud troops of Midian and Amalck, who can we think shall be able to stand before the last terror, wherein the trumpet of the archangel shall sound, and the heavens shall pass away with a noise, and the elements shall be on a flame about our «ars ?
Any of the weakest Israelites would have served to have broken an empty pitcher, to have carried a light, and to have sounded a trumpet, and to strike a flying adversary. Not to the basest use will God employ an unworthy agent : he will not allow so much as a cowardly torch-bearer.
Those two and twenty thousand Israelites, that slipped away for fear, when the fearful Midianites fled, can pursue and kill them ; and can follow them at the heels, whom they durst not look in the face. Our flight gives advantage to the feeblest adversary, where- as our resistance foileth the greatest : how much more, if we have once turned our backs upon a temptation, shall our spiritual ene- mies, which are ever strong, trample us in the dust ! Resist, and they shall flee : stand still, and we shall see the salvation of the Lord. Judges rii.
THE REVENGE OF SUCCOTH AND PENUEL. Gideon was of Manasseh : Ephraim and he were brothers, sons of Joseph : none of all the tribes of Israel fall out with their victorious leader, but he. The agreement of brothers is rare : by how much nature hath more endeared them, by so much are their quarrels more frequent and dangerous.
I did not hear the Ephraimites offering themselves into the front of the army, before they fight ; and now they are ready to fight with Gideon, because they were not called to fight with Midian : I hear them expostulating after it ; after the exploit done, cowards are valiant. Their quarrel was, that they were, not called it had been a greater praise of their valour, to have gone unbidden. What need was there to call them, when God complained of multi- tude, and sent away those which were called ? None speak so big in the end of the fray, as the fearfullest.
Ephraim Hies upon Gideon, whilst the Midianites fly from him. W hen Gideon should be pursuing his enemies, he is pursued by
200 CONTEMPLATIONS.
brethren ; and now is glad to spend that wind in pacifying of his own, which should have been bestowed in the slaughter of a com- mon adversary. It is a wonder, if Satan suffer us to be quiet at home, while we are exercised with wars abroad. Had not Gideon learned to speak fair, as well as to smite, be had found work enough from the swords of Joseph's sons : his good words are as victorious as his sword ; his pacification of friends, better than his execution of enemies.
For ought I see, the envy of Israelites was not more troublesome to Gideon, than the opposition of Midian. He hath left the envy of Ephraim behind him ; before him, he finds the envy of Suc- coth and Penuel. The one envies that he should overcome with- out them ; the other, that he should say, he had overcome. His pursuit leads him to Succoth ; there he craves relief, and is repel- led. Had he said, " Come forth and draw your sword with me against Z<;ba and Zalmunna," the motion had been but equal : a common interest challenges an universal aid : now he says but, Give morsels of bread to my followers, he is turned off with a scorn ; he asks bread and they give him a stone. Could he ask a more slender recompence of their deliverance, or a less reward of his victory ? Give morsels of bread. Before this act, all their sub- stance had been too small a hire for their freedom from Midian ; now, when it is done, a morsel of bread is too much : well might he challenge bread, where lie gave liberty and life. It is hard, if those which fight the wars of God may not have necessary relief ; that while the enemy dies by them, they should die by famine. If they had laboured for God at home in peace, they had been worthy of maintenance ; how much more now, that danger is added to their toil t Even very executioners look for fees •, but here were not malefactors, but adversaries to be slain : the sword of power and revenge was now to be wielded, not of quiet justice. Those, that fight for our souls against spiritual powers, may challenge bread from us ; and it is shameless unthankfulness to deny it. When Abraham had vanquished the five kings, and delivered Lot and his family, the king of Salem met him with bread and wine ; and now these sons of Abraham, after an equal victory , ask dry bread, and are denied by their brethren : craftily yet, and \inder pretence of a false title ; had they acknowledged the victory of Gideon, with what forehead could they have denied him bread ?
Now, I kno\y not whether their faithlessness or envy lie in their way. Are the bands of Zcba and Zalmunna, in thy hands ? There were none of these princes of Succoth and Penuel, but thought themselvesibetter men than Gideon: that he therefore alone should do that, which all the princes of Israel durst not attempt, they hated and scorned to hear. It is never safe to measure events by the power of the instrument; nor, in the causes of God, whose calling makes the difference, to measure others by themselves : there is no- thing more dangerous, than in holy businesses to stand upon com- parisons and our own reputation ; since it is reason, God should both cliuse and bless where he lists.
THE REVENGE OF SUCCOTH AND PENUEL. 201
To have questioned so sudden a victory, had been pardonable; but to deny it scornfiiily, was unworthy of Israelites. Carnal men think that impossible to others, which themselves cannot do ; from hence are their censures, hence their exclamations.
Gideon hath vowed a fearful revenge, and now performs it. The taunts of his brethren may not stay him from the pursuit of the Midianites : common enmities must first be opposed ; domestical, at more leisure. The princes of Succoth feared the tyranny of the Midianitish kings, but they more feared Gideon's victory. What a condition hath their envy drawn them into ! That they are sorry to see God's enemies captive ; that Israel's freedom must be their death ; that the Midianites and they must tremble at one and the same revenger I To see themselves prisoners to Zeba and Zal- munna, had not been so fearful, as to see Zeba and Zalmunna pri- soners to Gideon. Nothing is more terrible to evil minds, than to i-ead their own condemnation in the happy success of others. Hell itself would want one piece of his torment, if the wicked did not know those whom they contemned, glorious.
I know not whether more to commend Gideon's wisdom and mo- deration in the proceedings, than his resolution and justice in the execution of this business. I do not see him run furiously into the city, and kill the next : his sword had not been so drunken with blood, that it should know no difference : but he writes down the names of the princes, and singles them forth for revenge.
When the leaders of God came to Jericho or Ai, their slaughter was impartial : not a woman or child might live to tell news : but now that Gideon comes to a Succoth, a city of Israelites, the rulers are called forth to death ; the people are frighted with the example, not hurt with the judgment. To enwrap the innocent in any ven- geance, is a murderous injustice ; indeed where all join in the sin, all are worthy to meet in the punishment. It is like, the citizens of Succoth could have been glad to succour Gideon, if their rulers had not forbidden ; they must therefore escape, while their princes perish.
I cannot think of Gideon's revenge without horror ; that the rulers of Succoth should have their flesh torn from their backs with thorns and briers ; that they should be at once beaten and scratch- ed to death: what a spectacle it was to sec their bare bones looking somewhere through the bloody rags of their flesh and skin, and every stroke worse than the last ; death multiplied by torment ! Justice is sometimes so severe, that a tender beholder can scarce discern it from cruelty.
I see the Midianites fare less ill : the edge of the sword makes a speedy and easy passage for their lives, while these rebellious Is- raelites die lingering under thorns and briers ; envying those in their death, whom their life abhorred. Howsoever men live or die without the pale of the Church, a wicked Israelite .shall be sure of plagues. How many shall unwish themselves Christians, when God's revenges have found them out !
The place (Peniel) where Jacob wrestled with God and prevail-
202 CONTEMPLATIONS.
ed, now hath wrestled against God and takes a fall : they see God avenged, which would not believe him delivering.
It was now time for Zeba and Zalmunua, to follow those their troops to the grave, whom they had led in the field. Those, which the day before were attended with a hundred and thirty five thou- sand followers, have not so much as a page now left to weep for their death ; and have lived only to see all their friends, and some enemies die for their sakes.
Who can regard earthly greatness, that sees one night change two of the greatest kings of the world into captives ? It had been both pity and sin, that the heads of that Midianitish tyranny, into which they had drawn so many thousands, should have escaped that death. And yet, if private revenge had not made Gideon just, I doubt whether they had died. The blood of his brothers calls for theirs, and awakes his sword to their execution. He both knew and complained of the Midianitish oppression, under which Israel groaned ; yet the cruelty offered to all the thousands of his father's sons, had not drawn the blood of Zeba and Zalmunna, if his own mother's sons had not bled by their hands.
He, that slew the rulers of Succoth and Penuel and spared the people, now hath slain the people of Midian and would have spared their rulers ; but that God, which will find occasionsto wind wick- ed men into judgment, will have them slain in a private quarrel, which had more deserved it for the public ; if we may not rather say, that Gideon revenged these as a magistrate, not as a brother. For governors to respect their own ends in public actions, and to wear the sword of justice in their own sheath, it is a wrongful abuse of authority. The slaughter of Gideon's brethren was not the greatest sin of the Midianitish kings : this alone shall kill them, when the rest expected an unjust remission.
How many lewd men hath God paid with someone sin for' all the rest ! Some, that have gone aw-2y with unnatural filthiness and ca- pital thefts, have clipped off their own days with their coin ; others, whose bloody murders have been punished in a mutinous word ; others, whose suspected felony hath paid the price of their un- known rape. O God, thy judgments are just, even when men's are unjust !
Gideon's young son is bidden to revenge the death of his uncles. His sword had not yet learned the way to blood, especially of kings, though in irons. Deadly executions require strength both of heart and face. How are those aged in evil, that can draw their swords upon the lawfully anointed of God '.
These tyrants plead not now for continuance of life, but for the haste of their death ; Fall thou upon us. Death is ever accompa- nied with pain, which it is no marvel if we wish short. We do not more affect protraction of an easeful life, than speed in our dissolution ; for here every pang that tends towaixls death, renews it. To lie a hour under death, is tedious ; but to be dying a whole day, we think above the strength of human patience. Oh, what shall we then conceive of that death, which knows no end ? As
abimelech's USURPATION. 203 this life is no less frail than the body which it animates, so that death is no less eternal than the soul which must endure it.
For us to be dying so long as we now have leave to live, is in- tolerable ; and yet one only minute of that other tormenting death, is worse than an age of this. Oh the desperate infidelity of care- less men, that shrink at the thought of a momentary death, and fear not eternal ! This is but a killing of the body ; that is a destruc- tion of body and soul.
Who is so worthy to wear the crown of Israel, as he that won the crown from Midian ? Their usurpers were gone ; now they are headless. It is a doubt whether they were better to have had no kings, or tyrants. They sue to Gideon to accept of the king- dom, and are repulsed : there is no greater example of modesty than Gideon. When the angel spake to him, he abased himself below all Israel ; when the Ephraimites contended with him, he pre- fers their gleanings to his vintage, and casts his honour at their feet ; and now, w hen Israel proffers him that kingdom which he had merited, he refuses it. He, that in overcoming would allow them to cry, The sword of the Lord and of Gideon, in governing^ will have none but the sword of the Lord.
That which others plot, and sue, and swear, and bribe for, Dig- nity and Superioritv, he seriously rejects; whether it were, for that he knew God had not yet called them to a monarchy ; or rather, for that he saw the crown among thorns. What do we ambitiously affect the command of these mole-hills of earth, when wise men have refused the proffers of kingdoms? Why do not we rather la- bour for that kingdom, which is free from all cares, from all uncer- tainty ?
Yet he, that refuses their crown, calls for their ear-rings; al- though not to enrich himself, but religion. So long had God been a stranger to Israel, that now superstition goes current for devout worship. It were pity that good intentions should make any man wicked ; here they did so. Never man meant better than Gideon in his rich ephod ; yet this very act set all Israel on whoring : God had chosen a place and a service of his own. When the wit of man will be overpleasing God with better devices than his own, it turns to madness, and ends in mischief. Judges viii.
ABIMELECH'S USURPATION.
Gideon refused the kingdom of Israel when it was offered. His seventy sons offered not to obtain that sceptre, which their father's victory had deserved to make hereditary: only Abimclcch, the con- cubine's son, sues and ambitiously plots for it. What could Abi- melech see in himself, that he should overlook all his brethren ? If he look to his father, they were his equals ; if to his mother, they were his betters. Those, that are most unworthy of honour, are hottest in the chase of it ; whilst the conscience of better deserts bids men sit still, and stay to be either importuned or neglected.
204 CONTEMPLATIONS.
There can be no greater sign of unfitness, than vehement suit. It is hard to say, whether there be more pride or ignorance in am- bition. I have noted this difference betwixt spiritual and earthly honour, and the clients of both ; we cannot be worthy of the one without earnest prosecution, nor with earnest prosecution worthy of the other : the violent obtain heaven ; only the meek are worthy to inherit the earth.
That which an aspiring heart hath projected, it will find both ar- gument and means to effect. If either bribes or favour will carry i;, the proud man will not sit out. The Shechemites are fit bro- kers for Abimelech : that city, which once betrayed itself to utter depoipulatiaB in j'ielding to the suit of Hamor, now betrays itself arid all Israel in yielding to the request of Abimelech. By them bin!; this usurper made himself a fairway to the throne.
It was an easy question, " Whether will ye admit of the sons of Gideon for your rulers, or of strangers? If of the sons of Gideon, whet of all or one ? If of one, whether of your own flesh and blood, or of others unknown ?" To cast off the sons of Gideon for strangers, were unthankful ; to admit of seventy kings in one small country, were unreasonable ; to admit of any other rather than their own kinsman, were unnatural. Gideon's sons therefore must rule amongst all Israel ; one of his sons amongst those seventy } ana who should be that one but Abimelech ? Natural respects are the most dangerous corrupters of all elections. What hope can there be of worthy superiors in any free people, where nearness of blood carries it from fitness of disposition r Whilst they say, He is our brother, they arc enemies to themselves and Israel,
Fair words have won his brethren ; they, the Shechemites : the Shechemites furnish him with money ; money with men : his men begin with murder; and now Abimelech reigns alone: flattery, bribes, and blood, are the usual stairs of the ambitious. The money of Baal is a fit hire for murderers : that, which idolatry hath gathered, is fitly spent upon treason : one devil is ready to help another in mischief: seldom ever are ill gotten riches better employ- ed. It is no wonder if he that hath Baal his idol, now make an idol of honour. There was never any man that worshipped but one idol.
Woe be to them that lie. in the way of the aspiring : though they be brothers, they shall bleed ; yea, the nearer they are, the more sure is their ruin. Who would not now think that Abimelech should find a hell in his breast, after so barbarous and unnatural a massacre ? and yet behold, he is as senseless as the stone, upon which the blood of his seventy brethren was spilt. Where ambi- tion hath possest itself thoroughly of the soul, it turns the heart in- to steel, and makes it incapable of a conscience : all sins will easily down with the man that is resolved to rise.
Only Jotham fell not at that fatal stone with his brethren. It is a hard battle where none escapes. He escapes, not to reign, nor to revenue; but to be a prophet, and a witness of the vengeance of God upon the usurper, upon the abettors; he lives to tell Abimelech
abimelech's usurpation.
205
that he was but a bramble ; a weed, rather than a tree: a right bramble indeed, that grew but out of the base hedgerow of a con- cubine ; that could not lift up his head from the earth, unless ho were supported by some bush or pale of Shechem ; that had laid hold of the fleece of Israel, and had drawn blood of all his bre- thren ; and lastly, that had no substance in him, but the sap of vain-glory and the pricks of cruelty, it was better than a kingdom to him, out of his obscure bier, to see the tire out of this bramble to consiime those trees: the view of God's revenge, is so much more pleasing to a good heart than his own, by how much it is more just and full.
There was never such a pattern of unthankfulness, as these Is- raelites: they, which lately thought a kingdom too small recompence for Gideon and his sons, now think it too muchfor his seed to live; and take life away from the sons of him, that gave them hoi h Me and liberty. Yet if this had been some hundred of years after, when time had worn out the memory of Jerubbaal, it might have borne a better excuse. No man can hope to hold pace with time : the best names may not think scorn, to be unknown to following generations; but, ere their deliverer was cold in his coffin, to pay his benefits, which deserved to be everlasting, with the extirpation of his posterity, it was more than savage. What can be looked for from idolaters ? If a man have cast off his God, he will easily cast off his friends : when religion is once gone, humanity will not stay long after.
That which the people were punished afterwards for but desir- ing, he en joys. Now is Abimelech seated in the throne which his fa- ther refused, and no rival is seen to envy his peace. But how Jong will this glorv last ? Stay but three years, and ve shall see this bram- ble withered and burnt. The prosperity of the Wicked is short and fickle. A stolen crown, though it may look fair, cannot be made of any but brittle stuff. All life is uncurtain; but wicked- ness overruns nature.
The evil spirit thrust himself into the plot of Abimelech's usur- pation and murder, and wrought witli the Shechemites for both ; and now God sends the evil spirit betwixt Abimelech and the She- chemites, to work the ruin of each other. The first could not have been without God ; but in the second, God challenges a part : revenge is his, where the sin is ours. It had been pity that the Shechemites should have been plagued by any other hand than Abimelech's: they raised him unjustly to the throne ; they arc the first that feel the weight of his sceptre. The foolish bird limes herself with that which grew from her own excretion : who won- ders to see the kind peasant stung with his own snake ?
The breach begins at Shechem: his own countrymen fly off from their promised allegiance. Though all Israel should have fallen off from Abimelech, yet they of Shechem should have stuck close : it was their act, they ought to have made it good. How should good princes be honoured, when even Abimelcchs once set- tled, cannot be opposed with safety ! Now they begin to revolt to
206
CONTEMPLATIONS,
the rest of Israel : yet, if tins had been done out of repentance, it had been praiseworthy ; but to be done out of a treacherous incon- stancy, was unworthy oi' Israelites.
How could Abimelech hope for fidelity of them, whom he had made and found traitors to his father^ blood ? No man knows how to be .sure of him that is unconscionable: he, that hath been un- faithful to one, knows the waj- to be perfidious ; and is only fit for his trust, that is worthy to be deceived ; whereas faithfulness, be- sides the present good, lays a ground of further assurance. The friendship that is begun in evil cannot stand : wickedness, both of its own nature, and through the curse of God, is ever unsteady ; and though there be not a disagreement in hell (being but the place of retribution, not of action) yet on earth there is no peace among the wicked ; whereas that affection which is knit in God is indissoluble.
If the men of Shechem had abandoned their false god with their false king, and, out of a serious remorse and desire of satisfaction for their idolatry and blood, had opposed this tvrant and preferred Jotham to his throne, there might have been both warrant for their quarrel and hope of success ; but now, if Abimelech be a wicked usurper, yet the Shechemites are idolatrous traitors. How could they think, that God would rather revenge Abimelech's bloody in- trusion by them, than their treachery and idolatry by Abimelech ? When the quarrel is betwixt God and Satan, there is no doubt of the issue ; but when one devil fights with another, what certainty is there of the victory r Though the cause of God had been good, yet it had been safe for them to look to themselves : the unworthi- uess of the agent many times curses a good enterprize.
No sooner is a secret dislike kindled in any people against their governors, than there is a Gaal ready to blow the coals. It were a wonder if ever any faction should want a head ; as contrarily, never any man was so ill, as not to have some favourers. Abime- lech hath a Zebul in the midst of Shechem : lightly, all treasons are betrayed even with some of their own : his intelligence brings the sword of Abimelech upon Shechem, who now hath demolished the city and sown it with salt. Oh the just successions of the re- venges of God ! Gideon's ephod is punished with the blood of his sons ; the blood of his sons is shed by the procurement of the Shechemites ; the blood of the Shechemites is shed by Abimelech ; the blood of Abimelech is spilt by a woman. The retaliations of God are sure and just, and make a more due pedigree than de- scent of nature.
The pursued Shechemites fly to the house of their god Berith : now they are safe : that place is at once a fort and a sanctuary. Whither should we fly in our distress but to our God ? And now this refuge shall teach them what a God they have served. The jealous God whom they had forsaken hath them now where he would, and rejoices at once to be avenged of their god and them. Had they not made the house of Baal their shelter, they had not died so "fearfully. Now, according to the prophecy of Jotham, a
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fife goes out of the bramble and consumes these cedars, and their eternal flames begin in the house of their Berith : the confusion of wicked men rises out of the false deities which they have doted on.
Of all the conspirators against Gideon's sons, only Abimelech yet survives, and his dav is now coming. His success against Shechera hath filled his heart with thoughts of victory. He hath caged up the inhabitants of Thebez within their" tower also; and what re- mains for them, but the same end with their neighbours ? And be- hold, while his hand is busy in putting fire to the door of their tower, which yet was not high (for then he could not have dis- cerned a woman to be his executioner) a stone from a woman's hand strikes his head. His pain in dying was not so much, as his indignation to know bv whom he died ; and rather will he die twice, than a woman shall kill him. If God had not known his sto- mach so big, he had not vexed him with the impotency of his vic- tor : God finds a time to reckon with wicked men, for all the ar- rearages of their sins. Our sins are not more our debts to God, than his judgments are his debts to our sins ; which at last he will be sure to pay home.
There now lies the greatness of Abimelech ; upon one stone had he slain his seventy brethren, and now a stone slays hint ; his head had stolen the crown of Israel, and now his head is smitten : and what is Abimelech better that he was a king ? What difference is there between him and any of his seventy brethren whom he mur- dered, save only in guiltiness ? They bear but their own blood; he, the weight of all theirs. How happy a thing is it to live well ! that our death, as it is certain, so may be comfortable: what a vanity is it to insult in the death of them, whom we must follow the same way !
The tyrant hath his payment ; and that time, which he should have bestowed in calling for mercy to God, and washing his soul with the last tears of contrition, he vainly spends in deprecating an idle reproach ; Kill me, that it may not be said he died by a uh>- man: a fit conclusion for such a life. The expectation of true and endless torment doth not so much vex him, as the frivolous re- port of a dishonour ; neither is he so much troubled with " Abi- melech is frying in hell,'1 as "Abimelech is slain by a woman." So, vain fools are niggardly of their reputation, and prodigal of their souls : do we not see them run wilfully into the field, into the grave, into hell ? and all, lest it should be said, " They have but as much fear as wit." Judges ix.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK X.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,
SIR HENRY DANVERS, KNT.
BARON OF DANTESEY, A WORTHY PATTERN OF ALL TRUE NOBILITY*
ACCOMPLISHED BOTH FOR WAR AND PEACE, A MUNIFICENT FAVOURER OF ALL TRUE LEARNING AND VIRTUE;
J. H.
WITH HUMBLE APPRECATION OF ALL TRUE HAPPINESS, DEDICATES THIS PART OF HIS POOR LABOURS.
JEPHTHAH.
Israel, that had now long gone a whoring from God, hath been punished by the regiment of the concubine's son, and at last seeks protection from the son of a harlot : it is no small misery to be obliged unto the unworthy. The concubine's son made suit to them ; they make suit to the son of the harlot. It was no fault of Jephthah that he had an ill mother, yet is he branded with the indig- nity of his bastardy ; neither would God conceal this blemish of na- ture, which Jephthah could neither avoid nor remedy. God, to shew his detestation of whoredom, revenges it not only upon the actors, but upon their issue: hence he hath shut out the base son from the congregation of Israel to the tenth generation, that a transient evil might have a during reproach attending it ; and that after the death of the adulterer, yet his shame might live. But, that God, who justly ties men to his laws, will not abide that we should tie him to our laws, or his own : he can both rectify and ennoble the blood of Jephthah. That no man should be too much discouraged with the errors of his propagation, even the base son of man may be the lawfully begotten of God ; and though he be cast out from the inheritance of his brethren upon earth, may be admitted to the kingdom of Israel.
I hear no praise of the lawful issue of Gilead ; only this mis-be gotten son is commended for his valour, and set at the stern of Is-
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rael : the common gifts of God respect not the parentage of blood, but are indifferently scattered where lie pleases to let them fall. Tht\ choice of the Almighty is not guided by our rules ; as in spi- ritual, so in earthly things, it is not in him that willeth. If God would have men glory in these outward privileges, he would be- stow them upon none but the worthy.
Now, who can be proud of strength or greatness, when he see3 him that is not so honest, yet is more valiant, and more advanced? Had not Jephthah been base, he had not been thrust out ; and if he had not been thrust out from his brethren, he had never been the captain of Israel. By contrary paces to ours, it pleaseth God to come to his own ends : and how usually doth he look the contrary way, to that he moves ? No man can measure the conclusion of God's act by his beginning: he, that fetches good out of evil, raises the glory of men out of their ruin. Men love to go the nearest way, and often fail ; God commonly goes about, and in his own time conies surely home.
The Gileaclites were not so forward to ex pel Jephthah, as glad to recalhim: no Ammonite threatened them when they parted with such a helper ; now, whom they cast out in their peacc^they fetch home in their danger and misery. That God, who never gave aught in vain, will find a time to make use of any gift that he hath bestowed upon men : the valour of Jephthah shall not rust in his se- crecy, but be employed to the common preservation of Israel. Ne- cessity will drive us to seek up all our helps, even those whom our wantonness hath despised.
How justly are the suits of our need, upbraided with the errors of our prosperity ! The elders of Gilead now hear of their ancient wrong, and dare not find fault with their eKprobration ; Didye not hate me, and expel vie out of my father's house % How then come ye now to vie, in time of tribulation ? The same expostulation that Jephthah makes with Gilead, God also at the same time makes with Israel ; Ye have forsaken vie, and served other gods ; where- fore should /deliver you any more? Go and cry unto the gods whom ye have served. As we, so God also rinds it seasonable, to tell his children of their faults, while he is whipping them. It is a safe and wise course, to make much of those in our peace, whom we must make use of in our extremity; else it is but just, that we should be rejected of those, whom we have rejected.
Can we look for an y other answer from God than this ? " Did ye not drive me out of your houses, out of your hearts, in the time of your health and jollity ? Did ye not plead the strictness of my charge, and the weight of my yoke ? Did not your wilful sins ex- pel me from your souls } What do you now crouching and creep- ing to me in the evil day ?'! Surely, O God, it is but justice, if thou be not found of those which were glad to lose thee ; it is thy mercy, if, after many checks and delays, thou wilt be found at last. Where an act cannot be reversed, there is no amends but confession ; and if God himself take up with this satisfaction, He that confesses shall find mercy ; how much more should men
VOL. I. p
210 CONTEMPLATIONS.
hold themselves well paid with words of humility and depreca- tion ! i
Jephthah's wisdom had not been answerable to his valour, ifhehad not made his match before-hand. He could not but know how treacherously Israel had dealt with Gideon. We cannot make too sure work, when we have to do with unfaithful men. It hath been an old policy, to serve ourselves of men ; and after our advantage, to turn them up. He bargains therefore for his sovereignty, ere he win it ; Shall I be your head ? We are all naturally ambitious, and are ready to buy honour even with hazard. And if the hope of a troublesome Superiority encouraged Jephthah to fight against the forces of Amnion, what heart should we take in the battles of God against spiritual wickednesses, when the God of heaven hath said, 2o him that overcomes, will I give power over nations, and to sit •with vie on my throne ? Oh that we could bend our eyes upon the rccompcnce of our reward ; how willingly should we march forward against these mighty Ammonites! Jephthah is noted for his valour; and yet he intreats with Ammon, ere he fights. To make war any other than our last remedy, is not courage, but cruelty and rashness : and now, when reason will not prevail, he betakes him- self to his sword.
As God began the war with Jephthah, in raising up his heart to that pitch of fortitude ; so Jephthah began his war at God, in craving victory from him, and pouring out his vow to him : his hand took hold of his sword ; his heart of God : therefore he, whom the Old Testament styles valiant, the New styles faithful ; he, who is com- mended for his strength, dares trust in none, but the arm of God; If thou wilt give the Ammonites into my hand. If Jephthah had not looked upward for his victory, in vain had the Gileadites looked up to him. This is the disposition of all good hearts ; they look to their sword or their bow, as servants, not as patrons ; and whilst they use them, trust to God. If we could do so in all our busi- nesses, we should have both more joy in their success, and less dis- comfort in their miscarriage.
It was his zeal to vow ; it was his sin to vow rashly. Jacob, his forefather, of whom he learned to vow, might have taught him a better form ; If God will be with me, then shall the Lord be my God. It is well wit;h vows, when the thing promised makes the promise good ; but when Jephthah says, Whatsoever thing comelh out of the doors of my house, shall be the Lord's, or I will offer it for a burnt sacrifice; his devotion is blind, and his good affection overruns his judgment ; for what if a dog, or a swine, or an ass had met him ? where had been the promise of his consecration ?
Vows are as they are made. Like unto scents, if they be of ill composition, nothing offends more ; if well tempered, nothing is more pleasant. Either certainty of evil, or uncertainty of good, or impossibility of performance, makes vows no service to God. When we vow what We cannot, or what we ought not to do, we mock God instead of honouring him. It is a vain thing for to go about to catch God hoodwinked. The conscience shall never find peace in any way, but that which we see before us, and which we know
Jephthah. 211
safe, both in the kind and circumstances. There is no comfort in " Peradventure, I may please God."
What good child will not take part of the parent's joy ? If Jeph- than return with trophies, it is no marvel if his daughter meet him with timbrels : Oh that we could be so affected with the glorious acts of our heavenly Father ! Thou subduest thine enemies, and mightily dcliverest thy people, O God ; a song waiteth for thee in Sion.
Who would have suspected danger in a dutiful triumph ? Well might Jephthah's daughter have thought ; " My sex forbade me to do any thing towards the help of my father's victory ; I can do lit- tle, if I cannot applaud it : if nature have made me weak, yet not unthankful ; nothing forbids my joy to be as strong as the vic- tor's : though I might not go out with my father to fight, yet I may meet him with gratulations ; a timbrel may become these hands which were unfit for a sword; this day hath made me the daugh- ter of the head of Israel; this day hath made both Israel free, my fa- ther a conqueror, and myself in him noble : and shall my affection make no difference i ? What must my father needs think, if he shall find me sitting sullenly at home, while all Israel strives who shall run first to bless him with their acclamations ? Should I only be insensible of his and the common happiness ?
And now, behold when she looks most for thanks, her father an- swers the measures of her feet with the knockings of his breast, and weeps at her music, and tears his clothes, to look upon her whom he best loved ; and gives no answer to her timbrels, but Alast my daughter, thou art one of them that trouble me : her joy alone hath changed tiie day, and lost the comfort of that victorv, which she enjoyed to see won. It falls out often, that those times and occasions which promise most contentment, prove most dole- ful in the issue : the heart of this virgin was never lifted up so high as now, neither did any day of her life seem happy but this ; and this only proves the day of her solemn and pex-petual mourning : as contrarily, the times and events which we have most distrusted, prove most beneficial. It is good, in a fair morning to think of that storm that may arise ere night, and to enjoy both good and evil fearfully.
Miserable is that devotion which troubles us in the performance ; nothing is more pleasant than the acts of true piety ; Jephthahmight well see the wrong of this religion, in the distaste of it ; yet, while himself had troubled his daughter, he says, Alas, my daughter, thou art of them that trouble vie : she did but her dutv ; he did what he should not ; yet he would be rid of the blame, though he cannot of the smart. No man is willing to own a sin ; the first man shifted it from himself to his wife ; this, from himself to his daugh- ter : he was ready to accuse another, which only committed it himself. It were happy, if we could be as loath to commit sin, as to acknowledge it.
The inconsideration of this vow was very rough, and settled ; I have opened my mouth, and cannot go back. If there were just cause to repent, it was the weakness of his zeal, to think that avenv
212 CONTEMPLATIONS.
could bind liim to evil : an unlawful vow is ill made, but worse performed. It wore pity this constancy should light upon any but a holy object. No loan can make a truer debt than our vow ; which if we pay not in our performance, God will pay us with judgment. We have all opened our mouths to God in that initial and solemn vow of Christianity ; Oh that we could not go back ! So much more is our vow obligatory, by how much the thing vow- ed is more necessary.
Why was the soul of Jephthah thus troubled, but because he saw the entail of his new honour thus suddenly cut off? He saw the hope of posterity extinguished, in the virginity of his daughter. It is natural to us, to affect that perpetuity in our succession, which is denied us in our persons : our very bodies would emu- late the eternity of the soul. And if God have built any of us a house on earth, as well ns prepared us a house in heaven, it must be confessed a favour worth our thankfulness; but as the perpe- tuity of our earthly houses is uncertain, so let us not rest our hearts upon that, but make sure of the house which is eternal in the heavens.
Doubtless, the goodness of the daughter added to the father's sorrow She was not more loving than religious ; neither is she less willing to be the Lord's, than her father's : and as provoking her father to that which he thought piety, though to her own wrong, she says, If thou hast opened thy mouth tnito the Lord, do with vie as thou hast promised. Many a daughter would have dis- suaded her father with tears, and would have wished rather her fa- ther's impiety than her own prejudice ; she sues for the smart of her father's vow. How obsequious should children be to the will of their careful parents, even in their final disposition in the world, when they see this holy maid willing to abandon the world upon the rash vow of a father ! They are the living goods of their pa- rents, and must therefore wait upon the bestowing of their owners. They mistake themselves, which think they are their own : if this maid had vowed herself to God without her father, it had been in his power to abrogate it ; but now that he vowed her to God with- out herself, it stands in force. lint what shall we say to those chil- dren, whom their parents' vow and care cannot make so much as honest; that will be no other than godless, in spite of their bap- tism and education ? what, but that they are given their parents for a curse, and shall one day find what it is to be rebellious ?
All her desire is, that she may have leave to bewail that which she must be forced to keep, her virginity : if she had not held it an affliction, there had been no cause to bewail it ; it had been no thank to undergo it, if she had not known it to be a cross. Tears are no argument of impatience ; we may mourn for that we repine not to bear. How comes that to be a meritorious virtue under the Gospel, which was but a punishment under the Law P The daugh- ters of Israel had been too lavish of their tears, if virginity hod T)een absolutely good : what injury should it have been to lament that spiritual preferment, which they should rather have emulated?
While Jephthah/ s daughter was two months in the mountains, she
SAMSON CONCEIVED.
213
might have had good opportunity to escape her father's vow ; but as one, whom her obedience tied as close to her father, as his vow tied him to God, she returns to take up that burden, which she had bew ailed to foresee : if we be truly dutiful to our Father in hea- ven, we would not slip our necks out of the yoke though we might; nor fly from his commands though the door were open.
Judges xt.
SAMSON CONCEIVED.
Of extraordinary persons, the very birth and conception is extra- ordinarv. God begins his wonders betimes, in those whom he will make wonderful. There was never any of those which were mira- culously conceived, whose lives were not notable and singular. The presages of the womb and the cradle are commonly answered in the life : it is not the use of God to cast away strange begin- nings. If Manoah's wife had not been barren, the angel had not been sent to her : afflictions have this advantage, that they occa» sion God to shew that mercy to us, whereof the prosperous are incapable ; it would not beseem a mother to be so indulgent to a healthful child, as to a sick. It was to the woman that the an- gel appeared, not to the husband ; whether for that the reproach of barrenness lay upon her more heavily than on the father, or for that the birth of the child should cost her more dear than her hus- band, or lastly for that the difficulty of this news was more in her conception than in his generation : as Satan lays his batteries ever to the weakest, so contrarily, God addressed) his comforts to those hearts that have most need ; as at the first, because Eve had most reason to be dejected, for that her sin had drawn man into the transgression, therefore the cordial of God most respecteth her ; The seed of the woman shall break the serpcnCs head.
As a physician first tells the state of the disease with his symp- toms, and then prescribes ; so doth the angel of God, first tell the wife of Manoah her complaint, then her remedy; Thou art barren. All our afflictions are more noted of that God which sends them, than of the patient that suffers them: how can it be but less possi- ble to endure any thing that he knows not, than that he inflicteth -it not? He saitU to one, " Thou art sick ;" to another, " Thou art poor j" to a third, " Thou art defamed ;" " Thou art oppress- ed," to another : that all-seeing eve bikes notice from heaven of every man's condition, no less than if lie should send an angel to tell us he knew it : his knowledge compared with his mercy, is the just comfort of all our sufferings. O God, we are many times mi- serable, and feel it not ; thou knowest even those sorrows which we might have ; thou knowest what thou hast done : do what thou wilt.
Thou art barren. Not that the angel would upbraid the poor woman with her affliction ; but therefore he names her pain, that the mention of her cure might be so much more welcome : com- fort shall come un- asfuiably to that heart, which is not apprehen-
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sive of his own sorrow : we must first know our evils, ere we can quit them. It is the just method of every true angel of God, first to let us see that whereof either we do or should complain, and then to apply comforts ; like as a good physician first pulls down the body, and then raises it with cordials. If we cannot abide to hear of our faults, we are not capable of amendment,
If the angel had first said, Thou shalt. conceive, and not pre- mised, Thou art barren, I doubt whether she had conceived faith in her soul, of that infant which her bod)' should conceive ; now, his knowledge of her present estate, makes way for the assurance of the future. Thus ever it pleases our good God, to leave a pawn of his fidelity with us ; that we should not distrust him in what he will do, when we find him faithful in that which we see done.
It is good reason, that he, which gives the son to the barren mo- ther, should dispose of him and diet him, both in the womb first and after in the world. The mother must first be a Nazarite, that her son may be so. While she was barren, she might drink what she would ; but now, that she shall conceive a Samson, her choice must be limited. There is a holy austerity that ever follows the special calling of God : the worldling may take his full scope, and deny his back and belly nothing ; but he, that hath once conceived that blessed burthen, whereof Samson was a type, must be strict and severe to himself ; neither his tongue, nor his palate, nor his hand, may run riot : those pleasures, which seemed not unseemly for the multitude, are now debarred him.
We borrow more names of our Saviour than one ; as we are Christians, so we are Nazarites ; the consecration of our God is upon our heads, and therefore our very hair should be holy. Our appetite must be curbed, our passions moderated, and so estranged from the world, that in the loss of parents or children, nature may not make us forget grace. What doth the looseness of vain men persuade them that God is not curious, when the)' see him thus precisely ordering the very diet of his Nazarites ?
Nature pleads for liberty ; religion for restraint : not that there is more uncleanness in the grape, than in the fountain ; but that wine finds more uncleanness in us than water ; and that the high feed is not so fit for devotion as abstinence. Who sees not a cere- mony in this command ? Which yet carries with it this substance of everlasting use, that God and the belly will not admit of one servant ; that quaffing and cramming is not the way to heaven : a drunken Nazarite is a monster among men.
We have now more scope than the ancient : not drinking of wine but drunkenness with wine is forbidden to the evangelical Naza- rite; Wine, wherein is excess. Oh that ever Christians should quench the Spirit of God, with a liquor of God's own making! That they should suffer their hearts to be drowned with wine, and should so live, as if the practice of the Gospel were quite contrary to the rule of the Lavy !
The mother must conceive the only giant of Israel, and yet
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215
must drink but water ; neither must the child touch any other cup. Never wine made so strong a champion as water did here. The power of nourishment is not in the creatures, but in their Maker, Daniel and his three companions kept their complexion, with the same diet wherewith Samson got his strength : he, that gave that power to the grape, can give it to the stream. O God, how justly do we raise our eyes from our tables unto thee, which canst make water nourish, and wine enfeeble us !
Samson had not a better mother, than Manoah had a wife ; she hides not the good news in her own bosom, but imparts it to her husband : that wife hath learned to make a true use of her head, which is ever ready to consult with him about the messages of God. If she were made for his helper, he is much more hers. Thus should good women make amends for their first offence ; that, as Eve no sooner had received an ill motion but she delivered it to her husband, so they should no sooner receive good than they .should impart it.
Manoah, (like one which in those lewd times had not lost his ac- quaintance with God, so soon as he hears the news, falls down upon his knees. I do not hear him call forth and address his ser- vants to all the coasts of heaven, as the children of the prophets did in the search of Elias, to find out the messenger ; but 1 see him rather look straight up, to that God which sent him ; My Lord, I pray thee let that man of God come again . As a straight line is the shortest, the nearest cut to any blessing is to go by heaven : as we may not sue to God, and neglect means, so we must sue to God for those means which we shall use.
When I seethe strength of Manoah's faith, I marvel not that he had a Samson to his son. He saw not the messenger, he heard not the errand, he examined not the circumstances ; yet now he takes thought, not whether he shall have a son, but how he shall order the son which he must have ; and sues to God, not for the son which as yet lie had not, but for the direction of governing him when he should be. Zachariah had the same message ; and cra- ving a sign, lost that voice wherewith he craved it : Manoah seeks no sign for the promise, but counsel for himself ; and yet, that an- £el spake to Zachariah himself, this only to the wife of Manoah ; that, in the temple, like a glorious spirit; this, in the house or field, like some prophet or traveller ; that to a priest, this to a wo- man. All good men have not equal measures of faith. The bo- dies of men have not more differences of stature, than their graces. Credulity to men is faulty and dangerous ; but in the matters of God, is the greatest virtue of a Christian. Happy are they that have not seen, yet believed. True faith takes all for granted, yea lor performed, which is once promised.
He, that before sent his angel unasked, will much more send him a^ain upon intreaty. Those heavenly messengers are ready, both to obey their Maker and to relieve his children. Never any man prayed for direction in his duties to God and was repulsed ; rather
216
CONTEMPLATIONS.
will God send an angel from heaven to instruct us, than our good desires shall be frustrate.
Manoah prayed, the angel appeared again ; not to him, but to his wife. It had been the shorter way to have come first to the man, whose prayers procured his presence: but as Manoah went directly and immediately to God, so God comes mediately and about to him ; and will make her the means to bear the message to her husband, who must bear him the son. Both the blessing and the charge are chiefly meant to her.
It was a good care of Manoah, when the angel had given order to his wife alone for the governing of the child's diet, to proffer himself to his charge ; How shall we order the child ? As both the parents have their part in the being of their children, so should they have in their education. It is both unreasonable and unna- tural in husbands, to cast this burden upon the weaker vessel alone: it is no reason, that she, which alone hath had the pain of their birth, should have the pain of their breeding.
Though the charge be renewed to the wife, yet the speech is directed to the husband : the act must be hers, his must be the oversight ; Let her observe all I commanded her. The head must overlook the bodv : it is the duty of the husband, to be careful that the wife do her duty to God.
As yet Maiioah saw nothing but the outside of a man, and therefore offers the angel an answerable entertainment, wherein there is at once hospitality and thankfulness. No man shall bring him good news from God, and go away unrecompensed. How forward he is to feast him, whom he took for a prophet ! Their feet should be so much more beautiful, that bring us news of sal- vation, by how much their errand is better.
That Manoah might learn to acknowledge God in this man, he sets off the proffer of his thankfulness, from himself to God ; and (as the same angel which appeared to Gideon) turns his feast into a sacrifice. And now he is Manoah's solicitor to better thanks than he offered. How forward the good angels are to incite us unto piety. Either this was the Son himself, which said it was his meat and drink to do his Father's will, or else one of his spiritual attendants of the same diet. We can never feast the angels better, than with our hearty sacrifices to God. Why do not we learn this lesson of them, whom we propound to ourselves as patterns of our obedience ? We shall be once like the angels in condition ; why are we not in the meantime in our dispositions s If we do not pro- voke and exhort one another to godliness, and do care more for a feast than a sacrifice, our appetite is not angelical but brutish.
It was an honest mind in Manoah, while he was addressing a sa- crifice to God, yet not to neglect his messenger : fain would he know whom to honour. True piety is not uncivil ; but, while it magnifies the Author of ali blessings, is thankful to the means^ Secondary causes are worthy of regard ; neither need it detract any thing from the praise of the agent, to honour the instrument. It
SAMSON CONCEIVED.
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is not only rudeness, but injustice, in those, which can be content to hear good news from God, with contempt of the bearers.
The angel will neither take nor give ; but conceals his very name from Manoah. All honest motions arc not fit to be yielded to : good intentions are not always sufficient grounds of condescension. If we do sometimes ask what we know not, it is no marvel if we receive not what we ask. In some cases, the angel of God tells lius name unasked, as Gabriel to the virgin ; here, not by intreaty. If it were the Angel of the Covenant, he had as yet no name but Jeho- vah : if a created angel, he had no commission to tell his name; and a faithful messenger hath not a word beyond his charge. Be- sides that, he saw it would be of more use for Manoah, to know him really than by words. Oh the bold presumption of those men, which (as if they had long sojourned in heaven, and been acquainted with all the holy legions of spirits) discourse of their orders, of their titles, when this one angel stops the mouth of a better man than they, with Why dost thou ask after my name, which is secret? Secret things to God; revealed, to us and our children.
No word can be so significant as actions : the act of the angel tells best who he was ; he did wonderfully : wondeuful therefore was his name. So soon as ever the flame of the sacrifice ascended, he mounted up in the smoke of it ; that Manoah might see the sa- crifice and the messenger belonged both to one God ; and might know, both whence to acknowledge the message, and whence to expect the performance.
Gideon's angel vanished at his sacrifice, but this in the sacrifice; that Manoah might at once see, both the confirmation of his pro- mise, and the acceptation of his obedience ; while the angel of God vouchsafed to perfume himself with that holy smoke, and carry the scent of it up into heaven. Manoah believed before, and craved no sign to assure him ; God voluntarily confirms it to hiiu above his desire ; To him that hath shall be given ! where there arc beginnings of faith, the mercy of God will add perfection.
How do we think Manoah and his wife looked to see this spec- tacle ! They had not spirit enough left to look one upon another ; but instead of looking up cheerfully to heaven, they fall down to the earth upon their faces ; as' weak eyes are dazzled with that winch should comfort them. This is the infirmity of our nature, to be afflicted with the causes of our jov ; to be astonished with our confirmations ; to conceive death in that vision of God, wherein our life and happiness consist. If this homely sight of the angel did so confound good Manoah, what shall hecome of the enemies of God) when they shall be brought before the glorious tribunal of the God of angels?
I marvel not now, that the angel appeared both times rather to the wife of Manoah : her faith was the stronger of the two. It falls out sometimes, that the weaker vessel is fuller, and that of more precious liquor : that wife is no helper, which is not ready to give spiritual comfort to her husband. The reason was good,
218 CONTEMPLATIONS.
and irrefragable ; If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he. would not have received a burnt offering from us. God will not accept gifts, where he intends punishment, and professes hatred. The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord. If we can find assurance of God's acceptation of our sacrifices, we may be sure he loves our persons. If I incline to wickedness in my heart, the Lord will not hear me ; but the Lord hath heard me. Judges xiii.
SAMSON'S MARRIAGE. Of all the deliverers of Israel, there is none of whom are reported so many weaknesses, or so many miracles, as of Samson. The news, which the angel told of his conception and education, was not more strange, than the news of his own choice : he but sees a daughter of the Philistines, and falls in love. All this strength be- gins in infirmity : one maid of the Philistines overcomes that cham- pion, which was given to overcome the Philistines.
Even he, that was dieted with water, found heat of unfit desires. As his body was strong, notwithstanding that fare, so were his pas- sions. Without the gift, of continency, a low feed may impair na- ture, but not inordination. To follow nothing but the eye in the choice of his wife, was a lust unworthy of a .Nazante : this is to make the sense not a counsellor, but a tyrant.
Yet was Samson in this very impotency, dutiful : he did not, in the presumption of his strength, ravish her forcibly ; he did not make up a clandestine match without consulting with his parents, but he makes suit to them for consent ; Give me her to wife : as one that could be master of his own act, though not of his passion ; and as one that had learned so to be a suitor, as not to forget him- self to be a son, Even in this deplored state of Israel, childrcu durst not presume to be their own carvers ; how much less is this tolerable in a well-guided and Christian commonwealth \ Whosoever now dispose of themselves withoot their parents, they do wilfully unchild themselves, and change natural affection for violent.
It is no marvel, if Manoah and his wife were astonished at this unequal motion of their son. " Did not the angel," thought the}', " tell us, that this child should be consecrated to God ; and must he begin his youth in unholy wedlock r Did not the angel say, that our son should begin to save Isracj from the Philistines ; and is he now captivated in his affections bv a daughter of the Philistines r Shall our deliverance from the Philistines begin in an alliance ? Have we been so scrupulously careful, that he should eat no un- clean thing, and shall we now consent to a heathenish match f " Now therefore, they gravely endeavour, to cool this intemperate heat of his passion with good counsel ; as those which well knew the inconveniencies of an unequal yoke ; corruption in religion, alienation of affections, distraction of thoughts, connivance at ido- latry, death of zeal, dangerous underminings, and lastly, an unholy seed. Who can blame them, if they were unwilling to call a Phi- listine daughter ?
samson's marriage, 2t9
I wish Manoah could speak so loud, that all our Israelites might hear him ; Is there never a woman among the daughters of thy brethren, or among all God's people, that thou goest to take a wife of the uncircumcised Philistines ? If religion be any other than a cypher, how dare we not regard it in our most important choice ? Is she a fair Philistine ? Why is not this deformity of the soul more powerful to dissuade us, than the beauty of the face or of metal to allure us ? To dote upon a fair skin, when we see a Philistine under it, is sensual and brutish.
Affection is not more blind than deaf. In vain do the parents seek to alter a young man, not more strong in body than in will. Though he cannot defend his desires, yet he pursues them ; Get her, for she pleases vie. And although it must needs be a weak motion, that can plead no reason but appetite ; yet the good pa- rents, since they cannot bow the affection of their son with persua- sion, dare not break it with violence. As it becomes not children to be forward in their choice ; so parents may not be too peremp- tory in their denial. It is not safe for children to over-run parents in settling their affections ; nor for parents, where the impedi- ments are not very material, to come short of their children, when the affections are once settled : the one is disobedience ; the other may be tyranny.
I know not whether I may excuse either Samson in making this suit, or his parents in yielding to it, by a divine dispensation in both ; for on the one side, while the Spirit of God notes, that as yet his parents knew not this was of the Lord, it may seem that he knew it ; and is it likely he would know and not impart it ? This alone was enough to win, yea to command his parents ; " It is not mine eye only, but the counsel of God, that leads me to this choice : the way to quarrel with the Philistines is to match with them ; if I follow mine affection, mine affection follows God, in this project. " Surely, he, that commanded his prophet afterwards to marry a har- lot, may have appointed his Nazarite to marry with a Philistine. On the other side, whether it were of God's permitting or allow- ing, I find not : it might so be of God, as all the evil in the city ; and then the interposition of God's deeree, shall be no excuse of Samson's infirmity. I would rather think, that God meant only to make a treacle of a viper ; and rather appointed to fetch good out of Samson's evil, than to approve that for good in Samson, which in itself was evil.
When Samson went on wooing, he might have made the slug- gard's excuse, There is a lion in the way ; but he, that could not be staid by persuasion, will not by fear. A lion, young, wild, fierce, hungry, comes roaring upon him, when he had no weapon but his hand, no fence but his strength : the same Providence, that carried him toTimnath, brought the lion to him. It hath been ever the fashion of God, to exercise his champions with some initiatory en- counters : both Samson and David must first fight with lions, then with Philistines ; and he, whose type they bore, meets with that roaring lion of the wilderness, in the very' threshold of his public
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charge. The same hand, that prepared a lion for Samson, hath proportionable matches for every Christian : God never gives strength, but he employs it : Poverty meets one, like an armed man ; infamy, like some furious mastiff, comes flying in the face of another ; the wild boar out of the forest, or the bloody tiger of persecution, sets upon one ; the brawling curs of heretical pra- vity or contentious neighbourhood, are ready to bait another :- and by all these meaner and brutish adversaries, will God fit us for greater conflicts. It is a pledge of our future victory over the spiritual Philistines, if we can say, My soul hath been among lions. Come forth now, thou weak Christian, and behold this preparatory battle of Samson. Dost thou think God deals hardly with thee, in matching thee so hard, and calling thee forth to so many frays ? What dost thou but repine at thine own glory ? How shouldst thou be victorious without resistance ?
If the parents of Samson had now stood behind the hedge and seen this encounter, they would have taken no further care of matching their son with a Philistine; for who, that should see a strong lion ramping upon an unarmed man, would hope for his Jile and victory ? The beast came bristling up his fearful mane, waiting his raised stern ; his eyes sparkling with fury, his mouth roaring out knells of his last passage, and breathing death from his nostrils, and now rejoiced at so fair a prey. Surely, if the lion had bad no other adversary than he whom he saw, he had not lost his hope ; but now he could not see that his Maker was his enemy : The Spirit (if the Lord came upon Samson : what is a beast in the hand of the Creator? He i that struck the lions with the awe of Adam, Noah, and Daniel, subdued this rebellions beast to Samson: what marvel is it, if Samson now tore him, as if it. hail been a young kid ? If his bones had been brass, and lus skin plates of iron, all had been one : The right-hand of the Lord bringeih mighty things to pass.
If that roaring lion, that goes about continually, seeking whom he may devour, find us alone among the vineyards of the Philis- tines, where is our hope ? Not in our heejs ; he is swifter than we : not in our weapons ; we are naturally unarmed : not in our hands, which are weak and languishing ; but in the Spirit of that God, by whom we can do all things : if God fight in us,, who can resist us ? there is a stronger lion in us, than that against us.
Samson was not more valiant than modest : he made no words of this great exploit. The greatest performers ever make the least noise : he, that works wonders alone, could say, S'ee thou tell no man ; whereas those, whose hands are most impotent, are busiest of their tongues. Great talkers shew that they desire only to be thqught eminent, whereas the deepest waters are least heard.
Put while he concealed this event from others, he pondered it in himself ; and when he returned to Timnath, went out of the way to s» e his dead adversary, and could not but recal to himself his danger and deliverance; " Here the beast met me, thus he fought, thus I slew him." The very dead lion taught Samson thankful-*
samson's marriage. £21 ness : there was more honey in this thought than in the carcass. The mercies of God are ill hestowed upon us, if we cannot step aside to view the monuments of his deliverances : dangers mav be at once past, and forgotten. As Samson lrad not found his honey- comb, if he had not turned aside to see his lion ; so we shall lose the comfort of God's benefits, if we do not renew our perils by me- ditation.
Lest anything should befal Samson wherein is not some wonder, his lion doth more amaze him dead than alive : for lo, tlv.t carcass is matte a hive ; and the bitterness of death is turned into the sweet- ness of honey. The bee, a nice and dainty creature, builds her cells in an unsavoury carcass ; the carcass, that promised nothing but strength and annoyance, now offers comfort and refreshing; and, in a sort, pays Samson for the wrong offered. Oh the won- derful goodness of our God, that can change our terrors into plea- sure, and can make the greatest evils beneficial ! Is any man, by his humiliation under the hand of God, grown more faithful and conscionablc ? there is honey out of the lion. Is any man, by his temptation or fall, become more circumspect? there is also honey out of the lion. There is no Samson, to whom every lion doth not yield honey: every Christian is the better for his evils; yea, Satan himself, in his exercise of God's children, advantageth them.
Samson doth not disdain these sweets, because he finds them uncleanly laid. His diet was strict, and forbad him any thing that savoured of legal impurity ; yet he eats the honeycomb out of the belly of a deatl beast: good may not be refused, because the means are accidentally evil: honey is honey still, though in a dead lion. Those are less wise and more scrupulous than Samson, which abhor the graces of God, because they find them in ill ves- sels: one cares not for the preacher's true doctrine, because his life is evil ; another will not take a good receipt from the hand of a physician, because lie is given to unlawful studies; a third will not receive a deserved contribution from the hands of a usurer. It is a weak neglect not to take the honey, because we hate the lion. God's children have right to their father's blessings,- wheresoever they find them.
The match is now made : Samson, though a Nazarite, hath both a wedding and a feast : God never disliked moderate solemnities in ' the severest life; and yet this bridal feast was long, the space of seven days. If Samson had matched with the best Israelite, this celebration had been no greater; neither had this, perhaps, been so long, if tlie custom of the place had not required it. Now I do not hear him plead his Nazaritism, for a colour of singularity : it is hot!) lawful and fit, in things not prohibited, to conform ourselves to the manners and rites of those with whom we live.
That Samson might think it an honour to match with the Phi- listines, he, whom before the lion found alone, is now accompanied with thirty attendants: they called them companions, but they meant them for spies. The courtesies of the world are hollow and thankless , neither doth it ever purpose so ill, as when it shews
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fairest. None are so near to danger, as those whom it entertains with smiles : while it frowns, we know what to trust to ; hut the1 favours of it are worthy of nothing but fears and suspicion : open defiance is better than false love.
. Austerity had not made Samson uncivil : he knows how to enter- tain Philistines with a formal familiarity. And that his intellectual parts might be approved answerable to his arms, he will first try masteries of wit, and set their brains on work with harmless thoughts : his riddle shall oppose them, and a deep wager shall bind the solu- tion ; thirty shirts, and thirty suits of raiment. Neither their loss nor their gain could be much, besides the victory, being divided unto thirty partners ; but Samson's must needs be both ways very large, who must give or receive thirty alone. The seven days of the feast are expiring, and yet they, which had been all this while devouring Samson's meat, cannot tell who that eater should be from whence meat should come. In course of nature, the strong feeder takes in meat and sends out filthiness ; but, that meat and sweetness should come from a devouring stomach, was beyond their apprehension.
And us fools and dogs use to begin in jest and end in earnest, so did these Philistines ; and therefore they force the bride to entice her husband to betray himself. Covetousness and pride have made them impatient of loss ; and now the}7 threat to fire her, and her father's house, for recompence of their entertainment, rather than they will lose a small wager to an Israelite. Somewhat of kin to these savage Philistines, are those choleric gamesters, which, if the dice be not their friend, fall out with God, curse (that which is not) fortune, strike their fellows, and are ready to take vengeance upon themselves : those men are unlit for sport, that lose their patience together with their wager.
I do not wonder, that a Philistine woman loved herself and her father's family, more than an Israelitish bridegroom; and if she bestowed tears upon her husband, for the ransom of them. Sam- son himself taught her this difference ; 1 have not told it my father or vuj mother, and should I tell it thee f If she had not been as she was, she had neither done this to Samson, nor heard this from him. Matrimonial respects are dearer than natural : it was the law of him that ordained marriage, before ever parents were, that pa- rents should be forsaken for the husband or wife. But now, Isra- elitish parents are worthy of more entireness, than a wife of the Philistines ; and yet, whom the lion could not conquer, the tears of a woman have conquered. Samson never bewrayed infirmity but in uxoriousness. What assurance can there be of him, that hath a Philistine in his bosom? Adam the pcrfectest man, Samson the strongest man, Solomon the wisest man, were betrayed with the flattery of their helpers. As there is no comfort comparable to a faithful yoke-fellow, so woe be to him who is matched with a Philistine.
It could not but much discontent Samson, to see that his adver- saries had ploughed with his heifer, and that upon his own back j
samson's victory. 223 now therefore tie pays his wager to their cost. Ascalon, the city of the Philistines, is his wardrobe : he fetches thence thirty suits, lined with the lives of the owners. He might with as much ease have slain these thirty companions, which were the authors of this evil; but his promise forbad him, while he was to clothe their bodies, to unclothe their souls; and that Spirit of God, which stirred him up to revenge, directed him in the choice of the sub- jects. If we wonder to see thirty throats cut for their suits, we may easily know, that this was but the occasion of that slaughter, whereof the cause was their oppression and tyranny. David slew two hundred Philistines for their fore-skins ; but the ground of this act was their hostility. It is just with God, to destine what ene- mies he pleases to execution. It is not to be expostulated why this man is stricken rather than another, when both are Philistines.
Judges xiv,
SAMSON'S VICTORY.
I can no more justify Samson, in the leaving of his wife, than in the choosing her : he chose her, because she pleased him ; and be- cause she despised him, he left her. Though her fear made her false to him in his riddle, yet she was true to his bed : that weak treachery was worthy of a check, not a desertion. All the passions of Samson were strong, like himself; but, as vehement motions are not lasting, this vehement wind is soon allayed ; and he is now re- turning with a kid, to win her that had offended him, and to renew that feast which ended in her unkindness. Slight occasions may not break the knot of matrimonial love ; and if any just offence have slackened it, on either part, it must be fastened again by speedy reconciliation.
Now Samson's father-in-law shews himself a Philistine, the true parent of her that betrayed her husband ; for no sooner is the bridegroom departed, than he changes his son. What pretence of friendship soever he made, a true Philistine will soon be weary of an Israelite. Samson hath not so many days' liberty to enjoy his wedding, as he spent in celebrating it. Marriage hath been ever a sacred institution, and who but a Philistine would so easily vio- late it? One of his thirty companions enjoys his wife, together with his suit ; and now laughs to be a partner of that bed, whereon he was an attendant. The good-nature of Samson, having forgot- ten the first wrong, carried him to a proffer of familiarity, and is repulsed ; but with a gentle violence, / had thought thou hadst hated her. Lawful wedlock may not be dissolved by imaginations, but by proofs.
Who shall stay Samson from his own wife ? lie, that slew the lion in the way of his wooing, and before whom thousands of the Philistines could not stand, yet suffers himself to be resisted by him who was ouce his father-in-law, without any return of private violence. Great is the force of duty once conceived, even to the 1 most unworthy. This thought, " I was his son," binds the handi
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of Samson ; else how easily might he, that slew those thirty Phi- listines for their suits, have destroyed- this family for his wife ! How unnatural are those mouths, that can curse the loins from which they are proceeded ; and those hands, that dare lift up them- selves against the means of their life and being !
I never read that Samson slew any, but by the motion and as- sistance of the Spirit of God ; and the divine wisdom hath reserved these offenders to another revenge. Judgment must descend from others to them, since the wrong proceeded from others by them. In the very marriage, God foresaw and intended this parting ; and, in the parting, this punishment upon the Philistines. If the Phi- listines had not been as much enemies to God as to Samson, ene- mies to Israel in their oppression no less than to Samson in this particular iftjury, that purpose and execution of revenge had been no better than wicked ; now he, to whom vengeance belongs, sets him on work, and makes the act justice : when he commands, even very cruelty is obedience. ,
It was a busy and troublesome project of Samson, to use the foxes for his revenge ; for riot without great labour and many hands could so many wild creatures be got together, neither could the wit of Samson want other devices of hostility : but he meant to find out such a punishment, as might in some sort answer the of- fence, and might imply as much contempt as trespass. By wiles, seconded with violence, had thev wronged Samson, in extorting his secret and taking away his wife ; and what other emblem could these foxes tied together present unto them, than wiliness combined by force to work mischief?
These foxes destroy their corn, before he which sent them de- stroys their persons. Those judgments which begin in outward things end in the owners. A stranger that had been of neither side would have said, " What pity is it, to see good corn thus spoiled !" If the creature be considered apart from the owners, it is good ; and therefore if it be mis-spent, the abuse reflects upon the maker of it ; but if it be looked upon with respect to an ill master, the best use of it is to perish. He therefore that slew the Egyptian cattle with murrain, and smote their fruit with hail- stones, he that consumed the vines of Israel with the palmer-worm, and caterpillar, and canker-worm, sent also foxes by the hand of Samson, into the fields of the Philistines. Their corn was too good for them to enjoy, not too good for the foxes to burn up. God would rather his creatures should perish any way, than serve for the lust of the wicked.
There could not be such secrecy in the catching of three hun- dred foxes, but it might well be known who had procured them. Rumour will swiftly fly of things not done ; but of a thing so no- toriously executed, it is no marvel if Fame be a blab. The men- tion of the offence draws in the provocation ; and now the wrong to Samson is scanned and revenged : because the fields of the Phi- listines are burned for the wrong done to Samson by the Timnite in his daughter, therefore the Philistines burn the Timnite and his
samson's victory.
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daughter. The tying of the fire-brand between two foxes was not so witty a policy, as the setting of a fire of dissension betwixt the Philistines. What need Samson be his own executioner, when his enemies will undertake that charge ? There can be no more pleas- ing prospect to an Israelite, than to see the Philistines together by the ears.
If the wife of Samson had not feared the fire for herself and her father's house, she had not betrayed her husband, her husband had not thus plagued the Philistines, the Philistines had not consumed her and her father with fire : now she leaps into that flame which she meant to avoid. That evil which the wicked feared meets them in their flight. How many, in a fear of poverty, seek to gain un- conscionably, and die beggars ! How many, to shun pain and danger, have yielded to evil, and, in the long run, have been met in the teeth with that mischief which they had hoped to have left behind them ! How manv, in a desire to eschew the shame of men, have fallen into the confusion of God ! Both good and evil are sure paymasters at the last.
He, that was so soon pacified towards his wife, could not but have thought this revenge more than enough, if he had not rather wielded God's quarrel than his own. He knew that God had raised him up on purpose to be a scourge to the Philistines, whom as yet he had angered more than punished ; as if these therefore had been but flourishes before the fray, he stirs up his courage, and strikes them both hip and thigh with a mighty plague. That God which can do nothing imperfectly, where he begins either mercy or judg- ment will not leave till he have happily finished : as it is in his fa- vours, so in his punishments ; one stroke draws on another.
The Israelites were but slaves, and the Philistines were their masters ; so much more indignantly therefore must they needs take it, to be thus affronted by one of their own vassals : yet shall we commend the moderation of these pagans. Samson, being not mortally wronged by one Philistine, falls foul upon the whole na- tion; the Philistines, heinously offended by Samson, do not fall upon the whole tribe of Judah, but being mustered together, call to them for satisfaction from the person oriending : the same hand of God, which wrought Samson to revenge, restrained them from it : it is no thanks to themselves, that sometimes wicked men can- not be cruel.
The men of Judah are by their fear made friends to their tyrants, and traitors to their friend. It was in their cause that Samson had shed blood, and yet they conspire with the Philistines to destroy their own flesh and blood. So shall the Philistines be quit with Israel, that as Samson by Philistines revenged himself of Philistines, so they of an Israelite by the hand of Israelites. Tiiat which open enemies dare not attempt, they work by false brethren ; and these are so much more perilous, as they are more entire.
It had been no less easy for Samson to have slain those thousands of Judah that came to bind him, than those other of the Philistines that meant to kill him bound : and what if he had said, " Are ye
vol.. I. Q
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"226 CONTEMPLATIONS.
turned traitors to your deliverer ? your blood be upon your own heads ;" but the Spirit of God, without whom he could not kill either beast or man, would never stir him up to kill his brethren, though degenerated into Philistines. They have more power to bind him, than he to kill them: Israelitish blood was precious to him, that made no more scruple of killing a Philistine than a lion. That bondage and usury, that was allowed to a Jew from a Pagan, might not be exacted from a Jew.
The Philistines, that had before ploughed with Samson's heifer in the case of the riddle, are now ploughing a worse furrow with a heifer more his own. I am ashamed to hear these cowardly Jews say, Knowest thou not that the Philistines are Lords over us f Why hast thou done thus unto us? We are therefore come to bind thee; whereas they should have said, " We find these tyrannical Philistines to usurp dominion over us ; thou hast happily begun to shake off their yoke, and now we are come to second thee with our service. The valour of such a captain shall easily lead us forth to liberty. We are ready either to die with thee, or be freed by thee." A fearful man can never be a true friend : rather than incur any danger, he will be false to his own soul. Oh cruel mercy of these men of Judah ! We will not kill thee, but we will bind thee, and deliver thee to the hands of the Philistines, that they maij kill thee. : as if it had not been much worse to die an ignominious and tormenting death, by the hands of the Philistines, than to be at once dispatched by them, which wished either his life safe or his death easy.
When Saul was pursued by the Philistines upon the mountains of Gilboa, he could say to his armour-bearer, Draw forth tin/ sword and kill me, lest the uncircumcised come and thrust vie through, and mock me ; and at last would rather fall upon his own sword than theirs : and yet these cousins of Samson can say, W t will not kill thee, but we wilt bind thee and deliver thec. It was no excuse to these Israelites, that Samson's binding had more hope than his death. It was more in the extraordinary mercy of God than their will, that he was not tied with his last bonds. Such is the goodness of the Almighty, that he turns the cruel intentions of wicked men to an advantage.
Now these Jews, that might have let themselves loose from their own bondage, are binding their deliverer, whom yet they knew able to have resisted. In the greatest strength, there is use of pa- tience: there was more fortitude in this suffering, than in his for- mer actions: Samson abides to be tied by his own countrymen, that he may have the glory of freeing himself victoriously. Even so, O Saviour, our better Nazarite, thou, which couldst have called to thy Father, ami have bad twelve legions of angels for thy res- cue, wouklst be bound voluntarily, that thou mightcst triumph : so the blessed martyrs were racked, and would not be loosed, be- cause they expected a better resurrection. If we be not as well ready to sutler ill as to do good, wc are not fit for the consecration of God.
samson's victory. 227
To see Samson thus strongly manacled, and exposed to then- full revenge, could not but be a glad spectacle to these Philistines j and their joy was so full, that it could not but fly forth of their mouths in shouting and laughter : whom they saw loose with ter- ror, it is pleasure to see bound. It is the sport of the spiritual Philistines, to see any of God's Nazarites fettered with the cords of iniquity ; and their imps are ready to say, Aha, so would we have it : but the event answers their false joy with that clause of triumph^ Rejoice not over me, 0 mine enemy : though I fall, yet I shall rise again.
How soon was the countenance of these Philistines changed, and their shouts turned into shriekings ! The Spirit of the Lord came upon Samson ; and then, what are cords to the Almighty ? His new bonds are as flax burnt with fire ; and he rouses up him- self like that young lion whom he first encountered, and flies upon those cowardly adversaries, who if they had not seen his cords durst not have seen his face. If they had been so many devils as men, they could not have stood before the Spirit, which lifted up the heart and hand of Samson. Wicked men never see fairer pro- spect, than when they are upon the very threshold of destruction. Security and ruin are so close bordering upon each other, that where we see the face of the one, we may be sure the other is at his back. Thus didst thou, O blessed Saviour, when thou wert fastened to the cross, when thou layest bound in the grave with the cords of death, thus didst thou miraculously raise up thyself, vanquish thine enemies, and lead captivity captive : thus do all thy holy ones, when they seem most forsaken, and laid open to the insults of the world, find thy Spirit mighty to their deliver- ance, and the discomfiture of their malicious adversaries.
Those three thousand Israelites were not so ill advised, as to come up into the rock unweaponed, to apprehend Samson. Sam- son therefore might have had his choice of swords or spears, for his skirmish with the Philistines ; yet he leaves all the munition of Israel ; and finding the new jaw-bone of an ass, takes that up in his hand, and with that base instrument of death, sends a thousand Philistines to their place. All the swords and shields of the armed Philistines cannot resist that contemptible engine, which hath now left a thousand bodies as dead as the carcase of that beast whose bone it was. This victory was not in the weapon, was not in the arm ; it was in the Spirit of God, which moved the weapon in the arm. O God, if the means be weak, yet thou art strong : through God we shall do great acts ; yea, I can do all things through him that strengtheneth me. Seest thou a poor Christian, which by weak counsel hath obtained to overcome a temptation ? there is the Philistine vanquished with a sorry jaw-bone.
It is no marvel, if he were thus admirably strong and victorious, whose bodily strength God meant to make a tvpe of the spiritual power of Christ: and behold, as the' three thousands of Judah stood still, gazing with their weapons in their hands^ while Samson alone subdued the Phdistines ; so did men and angels stand look-
22S
CONTEMPLATIONS.
ing upon the glorious achievements of the Son of God, who might justly say, I have trod the wine-press alone.
Both the Samsons complained of thirst. The same God, which gave this champion victorv, gave him also refreshing ; and by the same means : the same bone yields him both conquest and life, and is of a weapon of offence turned into a well of water : he, that fetched water out of the flint for Israel, fetches it out of a bone for Samson. What is not possible to the infinite power of that Almighty Creator, that made all things of nothing ? He can give Samson honey from the mouth of the lion, and water from the mouth of the ass. Who would not cheerfully depend upon that God, which can fetch moisture out of dryness, and life out of death ? Judges xv.
SAMSON'S END.
I cannot wonder more at Samson's strength than his weakness : he, that began .to cast away his love upon a wife of the Philistines, goes on to mis-spend himself upon the harlots of the Philistines ; he that did not so much overcome the men, as the women over- came him. His affections blinded him first, ere the Philistines could do it ; would he else, after the effusion of so much of their blood, have suffered his lust to carry him within their walls, as one that cared more for his pleasure than his life ?
Oh strange debauchedness and presumption of a Nazarite ! The Philistines are up in arms to kill him ; he offers himself to their city, to their stews, and dares expose his life to one of their harlots, whom he had slaughtered. I would have looked to have seen him betake himself to his stronger rock than that of Etam ; and by his austere devotion, to seek protection of him, of whom he received strength : but now, as if he had forgotten his consecra- tion, I find him turned Philistine for his bed, and of a Nazarite scarce a man. In vain doth he nourish his hair, while he feeds these passions. How easily do vigour of body and infirmity of mind lodge under one roof! On the contrary, a weakish outside is a strong motive to mortification. Samson's victories have subdued him ; and have made him first a slave to lewd desires, and then to the Philistines. I may safely say, that more vessels miscarry with a fair gale than with a tempest.
Yet was not Samson so blinded with lust, as not at all to look before him. He foresaw the morning would be dangerous ; the bed of his fornication therefore could hold him no longer than midnight : then he rises ; and in a mock of those ambushes which the Azzahites laid for him, he carries away the gates wherein they thought to have encaged him. If a temptation lias drawn us aside to lie down to sin, it is happy for us if we can rise ere we be sur- prised with judgment. Samson had not left his strength in the bed of a harlot ; neither had that God, which gave it him, stripped him of it with his clothes, when he laid ham down in uncleanness. His mercy uses not to take advantage of our unworthiness ; but
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229
even when we cast him off, holds us fast. That hountiful hand leaves us rich of common graces, when we have mis-spent our better store ; like as our first parents, when they had spoiled themselves of the image of their Creator, yet were left wealthy of noble faculties of the soul.
I find Samson come off from his sin with safety. He runs away lightly with a heavier weight than the gates of Azzah, the burden of an ill act. Present impunity argues not an abatement of the wickedness of his sin, or of the dislike of God. Nothing is so worthy of pity, as sinners' peace : good is not therefore good, be- cause it prospers, but because it is commanded : evil is not evil, because it is punished, but because it is forbidden.
If the holy parents of Samson lived to see these outrages of their Nazarite, I doubt whether they did not repent of their joy, to hear the news of a son. It is a shame to see how he that might not drink wine, is drunk with the cup of fornications. His lust carries him from Azzah, to the plain of Sorek ; and now hath found a Delilah, that shall pay him for all his former uncleanness. Sin is steep and slippery ; and if after one fall, we have found where to stand, it is the praise, not of our footing, but of the hand of God.
The princes of the Philistines knew already where Samson's weakness lay, though not his strength ; and therefore they would entice his harlot by gifts, to entice him by her dalliance to betray himself. It is no marvel, if she that would be filthy, would be also perfidious. How could Samson choose but think, if lust had not bewitched him, " she, whose body is mercenary to me, will easily sell me to others ; she will be false, if she will be a harlot." A wide conscience will swallow any sin. Those, that have once thralled themselves to a known evil, can make no other difference of sins, but their own loss, or advantage : a liar can steal ; a thief can kill ; a cruel man can be a traitor ; a drunkard can falsify : wickedness once entertained can put on any shape : trust him in nothing, that makes not a conscience of every thing.
Was there ever such another motion made to a reasonable man ? Tell vie wherein thy great strength lieth, and wherewith thou maijcst be bound to do thee hurt. Who would not have spurned such a suitor out of doors? What will not impudence ask, or stupidity receive ? He, that killed the thousand Philistines for coming to bind him, endures this harlot of the Philistines to con- sult with himself of binding him; and when upon the trial of a false answer he saw so apparent treachery, yet wilfully betrays his life by her to his enemies. All sins, all passions have power to infatuate a man, but lust most of all. Never man that had drunk flaggons of wine had less reason than this Nazarite : many a one loses his life, but this casts it away ; not in hatred of himself >(,but in love to a strumpet.
We wonder that a man could possibly be so sottish, and yet we ourselves by temptation become no less insensate: sinful pleasures, like a common Delilah, lodge in our bosoms ; we know they aim at nothing but the death of our soul ; we will yitld to them and die.
230 CONTEMPLATIONS.
Every willing sinner is a Samson : let us not inveigh against his senselessness, but our own. Nothing is so gross and unreasonable to a well-disposed mind, which temptation will not represent fit and plausible. No soul can out of his own strength, secure him- self from that sin which he most detesteth.
As a hoodwinked man sees some little glimmering of light, but i not enough to guide him ; so did Samson, who had reason enough left him to make trial of Delilah by a crafty misinformation, but not enough upon that trial -to distrust and hate her : he had not wit enough to deceive her thrice : not enough to keen himself from being deceived by her. It is not so great wisdom to prove them whom we distrust, as it is folly to trust them whom we have found treacherous : thrice had he seen the Philistines in her chamber, ready to surprise him, upon her bonds; and yet will needs be a slave to his traitor. Warning not taken is a certain presage of de- structions; and if once neglected it receive pardon, yet thrice is desperate.
What man would ever play thus with his own ruin ? His harlot binds him, and calls in her executioners to cut his throat ; he rises to save his own life, and suffers them to carry away theirs in peace. W'here is the courage of Samson ? where his zeal ? He that killed the Philistines for their clothes ; he that slew a thousand of them in the field at once ; in this quarrel, now suffers them in his cham- ber unrevenged. Whence is this ? His hands were strong, but his heart was effeminate: his harlot had diverted his affection. Who- soever slackens the reins to his sensual appetite, shall soon grow un- fit for the calling of God.
Samson hath broke the green withes, the new ropes, the woof of his hair ; and yet still suffers himself fettered with those invisible bonds of a bailors love, and can endure her to say, How canst thou say I love thee, when thy heart is not with me ? Thou hast mocked vie these three times : whereas he should rather have said vinto her, How canst thou challenge any love from me, that hast this thrice sought my life ? Oh ! canst thou think my mocks a sufficient re- venge of this treachery ?" But contrarily, he melts at this fire; and by her importunate insinuations is wrought against himself. Weariness of solicitation hath won some to those actions, which at the first motion they despised : like as we see some suitors are dis- patched, not for the equity of the cause, but the trouble of the prosecution ; because it is more easy to yield, not more reasona- ble. It is more safe to keep ourselves out of the noise of sugges- tions, than to stand upon our power of denial.
Who can pity the loss of that strength which was so abused ? Who can pity him the loss of his locks, which after so many warn- ings can sleep in the lap of Delilah ? It is but just, that he should rise up from thence shaven and feeble ; not a Nazarite ; scarce a man. If his strength had lain in his hair, it had been out of him- self; it was not therefore in his locks ; it was in his consecration, whereof that hair was a sign. If the razor had come sooner upon his head, he had ceased to be a Nazarite ; and the gift of God had
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231
at once ceased, with the calling of God ; not for the want of that excretion, bat for want of obedience. If God withdraw his graces, when he is too much provoked, who can complain of his mercy ?
He that sleeps in sin must look to wake in loss and weakness. Could Samson think, " Though I tell her my strength lies in my hair, yet she will not cut it ; or though she do cut my hair, yet shall I not lose my strengtn that now he rises and si lakes himself in hope of his former vigour ? Custom of success makes men con- fident in their sins ; and causes them to mistake an arbitrary tenure for a perpetuity.
His eyes were the first offenders, which betrayed him to lust ; and now they are first pulled out, and he is led a blind captive to Azzah, vrhere he was first captived to his lust. The Azzahites, which lately saw him not without terror, running lightly away with their gates at midnight, see him now in his own perpetual night struggling with his chains ; and that he may not want pain toge- ther with his bondage, he must grind in his prison.
As he passed the street, every boy among the Philistines could throw stones at him ; every woman could laugh and shout at him ; and what one Philistine doth not say, while he lashes him unto blood, " There" is for my brother, or my kinsman, whom thou slewest ?" Who can look to run away with a sin, when Samson, a Nazaritc, is thus plagued ? This great heart could not but have broken with indignation, if it had not pacified itself, with the con- science of the just desert of all this vengeance.
It is better for Samson to be blind in prison, than to abuse his eves in Sorek ; yea, I may safely say, he was more blind when he saw licentiously, than now that he sees not. He was a greater slave when he served his affections, than now in grinding for the Philistines. The loss of his eyes shews him his sin ; neither could he see how ill he had done, till he saw not.
Even yet, still the God of mercy looked upon the blindness of Samson ; and in these fetters enlargeth his heart front the worse prison of his sin. His hair grew together with bis repentance, and his strength with his hair. God's merciful humiliations of his own are sometimes so severe, that they seem to differ little from desertions; yet at the worst, he loves us bleeding; and when we have smarted enough, we shall feel it.
What thankful idolaters were these Philistines ! They could not but know, that their bribes and their Delilah had delivered Sam- son to them, and yet they sacrifice to their Dagon ; and, as those, that would be liberal in casting favours upon a senseless idol, of whom they could receive none, they cry out, Our god hath deli\ •vered our enemy into our hands. Wfaflre was their Dagon, when a thousand of his clients were slain with an ass's jaw ? There was more strength in that bone, than in all the makers of this god ; and yet these vain pagans say, Our god. It is the quality of supersti- tion to misinterpret all events, and to feed itself with the conceit of those favours, which arc so far from being done, that their au-
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thors never were. Why do not we learn zeal of idolaters ? And if they be so forward in acknowledgment of their deliverances to a false deity, how cheerfully shoulcl we ascribe ours to the true ? O God, whatsoever be the means, thou art the author of all our success. Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and tell the wonders that he doth for the sons of men !
No musician would serve for this feast but Samson. He must now be their sport, which was once their terror. That he might want no sorrow, scorn is added to his misery : every wit and hand plays upon him : who is not ready to cast his bone and his jest at such a captive ? So as doubtless he wished himself no less deaf than blind, and that his soul might have gone out with his eyes. Op- pression is able to make a wise man mad ; and the greater the cou- rage is, the more painful the insult.
Now Samson is punished, shall the Philistines escape ? If the judgment of God begin at his own, what shall become of his ene- mies ? This advantage shall Samson make of their tyranny, that now death is no punishment to him ; his soul shall fly forth jn this bitterness without pain ; and that his dying revenge shall be no less sweet to him, than the liberty of his former life. He could not but feel God mocked through him ; and therefore, while they are scoffing he prays : his seriousness hopes to pay them forall those jests. If he could have been thus earnest with God in his prospe- rity, the Philistines had wanted this laughing stock. No devotion is so fervent, as that which arises from extremity : 0 Lord God, I pray thee think upon me ; 0 God, I beseech thee strengthen me at this time only.
Though Samson's hair were shorter, yet he knew God's hand was not , as one therefore that had yet eyes enough to see him that was invisible, and whose faith was recovered before his strength, he sues to that God, which was a party in this indignity, for power to revenge his wrongs more than his own. It is zeal that moves him, and not malice : his renewed faith tells him, that he was destined to plague the Philistines ; and reason tells him, that his blindness puts him out of the hope of such another opportunity : knowing therefore, that this play of the Philistines must end in his death, he recollects all the forces of his soul and body, that his death may be a punishment instead of a disport ; and that his soul may be more victorious in the parting, than in the animation : and so ad- dresses himself both to die and kill ; asone whose soul shall not feel his own dissolution, while it shall carry so many thousand Philis- tine? with it to the pit. All the acts of Samson are for wonder, not for imitation : so didst thou, O blessed Saviour, our better Samson, conquer in dying ; and triumphing upon the chariot of the cross, didst lead captivity captive : the law, sin, death, hell, had never been vanquished, but by thy death : all our life, liberty, and glory, springs out of thy most precious blood. Judges xvi.
233
MICAH'S IDOLATRY.
The mother of Micah hath lost her silver, and now she falls to cursing : she did afterwards but change the form of her god : ier silver was her god, ere it did put on the fashion of an image ; dse she had not so much cursed to lose it, if it had not too much pos- sessed her in the keeping. A carnal heart cannot forego tiiat wherein it delights, without impatience ; cannot be impatieit, without curses: whereas the man, that hath learned to enjoy God and use the world, smiles at a shipwreck, and pities a thief; and cannot curse, but pray.
Micah had so little grace as to steal from his mother, and that out of wantonness, not out of necessity ; for if she had not been rich, so much could not have been stolen from her : and now, he hath so much grace as to restore it : her curses have fetched again her treasures. He cannot so much love the money, as he fears her imprecations. Wealth seems too dear, bought with a curse. Though his fingers were false, yet his heart was tender. Many, that make not conscience of committing sin, yet make conscience of facing it : it is well for them, that they arc but novices in evil. Those", whom custom hath fleshed in sin, can either deny and for- swear, or excuse and defend it : their seared hearts cannot feel the gnawing of any remorse ; and their forehead hath learned to be as impudent, as their heart is senseless.
I see no argument of any holiness in the mother of Micah : her curses were sin to herself; yet Micah dares not but fear them. I know not whether the causeless curse be more worthy of pity, or derision ; it hurts the author, not his adversary : but the deserved curses, that fall even from unholy mouths, are worthy to be feared. Plow much more should a man hold himself blasted with the just im- precations of the godly ! What metal are those made of, that can applaud themselves in the bitter curses which their oppressions have wrung from the poor, and rejoice in these signs of their prosperity f
Neither yet was Micah more stricken with his mother's curses, than with the conscience of sacrilege : so soon as he finds there was a purpose of devotion in this treasure, he dares not conceal it, to the prejudice, as he thought, of God, more than of his mother. AVhat shall we say to the palate of those men, which as they find no good relish but in stolen waters, so best in those which are stolen, from the fountain of God ?
How soon hath the old woman changed her note ! Even now she passed an indefinite curse upon her son for stealing, and now she blesses him absolutely for restoring; Blessed be mi/ son of the Lord. She hatli forgotten the theft, when she sees the restitution : how much more shall the God of mercies be more pleased with our confession, than provoked with our sin !
* I doubt not but this silver and this superstition came out of Egypt, together with the mother of Micah. This history is not so late in time, as in place ; for the tribe of Dan was not yet settled
23
CONTEMPLATIONS.
in that first division of the promised land ; so as this old woman hal seen both the idolatry of Egypt, and the golden calf in the Wilderness; and no doubt, contributed some of her ear-rings to thjt deity ; and after all the plagues which she saw inflicted upon he- brethren for that idol of Horeb, and Baal-peor, she still re- serves a secret love to superstition, and now shews it. Where mis-religion hath once possessed itself of the heart, it is very hardly cleansed out; but; like the plague, will hang in the very clothes, and, after long lurking, break forth in an unexpected infection ; and old wood is the aptest to take this fire: after ail the airing iu the desert, Micah's mother will smell of Egypt.
It had been better the silver had been stolen, than thus bestowed ; for now they have so employed it, that it hath stolen away their hearts from God ; and yet white it is molten into an image, they think it dedicated to the Lord. If religion might be judged ac- cording to the intention, there should scarce be any idolatry in the world. This woman loved her silver enough ; and if she had not thought this costlv piety worth thanks, she knew which way to have employed her stock to advantage. Even evil actions have oft- times good meanings, and those good meanings are answered with evil recompences. Many a one bestows their cost, their labour, their blood, and receives torment instead of thanks.
Behold a superstitious son of a superstitious mother ! She makes a god, and he harbours it ; yea, as the strcamis commonly broader than the head, he exceeds his mother in evil : he hath a house of gods, an ephod, teraphin ; and, that he might be complete in his devotion, he makes his son his priest, and feoffs that sin upon his son, which he received from his mother. Those sins, which nature conveys not to us, we have by imitation. Every action and ges- ture of the parents is an example to the child ; and the mother, as she is more tender over her son, so by the power of a reciprocal love, she can work most upon his inclination. Whence it is, that in the history of the Israelitish kings, the mother's name is com- monly noted : and as civilly, so also morally } <{ the birth follows the belly." Those sons may bless their second birth, that are de- livered from the sins of their education.
Who cannot but think how far Micah overlooked all his fellow Israelites, and thought them profane and godless in comparison of himself! How did he secretly clap himself on the breast, as the man whose happiness it was to engross religion from all the tribes of Israel ; and little can imagine, that the further he runs, the more out of the way ! Can an Israelite be thus paganish ? O Micah ! how hath superstition bewitched thee, that thou canst not see re- bellion in every of these actions, yea, in every circumstance re- bellion ! What, more gods than one ! A house of gods, beside God's house ! An image of silver to the invisible God ! An ephod, and no priest ! A priest, besides the family of Levi ! A priest of thine own begetting, of thine own consecration ! What mousteqp doth man's imagination produce, when it is forsaken of God ! It is well seen there is no king in Israel: if God had been their king, his
micah's idolatry. 235 laws had ruled them : if Moses or Joshua had heen their king, their sword had awed them : if any other, the courses of Israel could not have been so heedless. We arc beholden to government for order, for peace, for religion, Where there is no king, every one will be a king, yea, a God to himself. We are worthy of nothing but confusion, if we bless not God for authority.
It is no marvel, if Levites wandered for maintenance, while there was no king in Israel. The tithes and offerings were their due: if these had been paid, none of the holy tribe needed to shift his station. Even where royal power seconds the claim of the Levite, the injustice of men shortens his right. What should become of the Levites, if there were no king ? And what of the church, if no Levites ? No King therefore, no Church. How could the impo- tent, child live without a nurse ? Kings shall be thy nursing fa- thers, and queens thy nurses, saith God. Nothing more argues the disorder of any Church, or the decay of religion, than the forced straggling of the Levites. There is hope of growth, when Micah rides to seek a Levite ; but when the Levite comes to seek a service of Micah, it is a sign of gasping devotion.
Micah was no obscure man : all Mount Ephraim could not but take notice of his domestic gods. This Levite could not but hear of his disposition, of his mis-devotion ; yet want of mainte- nance, no less than conscience, draws him on to the danger of an idolatrous patronage. Holiness is not tied to any profession. Happy were it for the Church, if the clergy could be a privilege from lewdness. When need meets with unconscionableness, all conditions are easily swallowed of unlawful entrances, of wicked executions. Ten shekels, and a suit of apparel, and his diet, are good wages for a needv Levite. He, that could bestow eleven hundred shekels upon his puppets, can afford but ten to his priest ; so hath he at once a rich idol, and a beggarly priest. Whosoever affects to serve God good cheap, shews, that he makes God but a stale to Mammon.
Yet was Micah a kind patron, though not liberal. He calls the young Levite his father, and uses him as his son ; and what he wants in means, supplies in affection. It were happy, if Chris- tians could imitate the love of idolaters towards them which serve at the altar. Micah made a shift with the priesthood of his own son ; yet that his heart checks him in it, appears both by the change and his contentment in the change ; Now I know that the Lord will be good to me, seeing I have a Levite to viy priest : therefore, while his priest was no Levite, he sees there was cause why God should not be good to him. If the Levite had not come to offer his service, Micah's son had been a lawful priest. Many times the conscience runs away smoothly with an unwarrantable action, and rests itself upon those grounds, which afterward it sees cause to condemn. It is a sure way therefore, to inform our- selves thoroughly ere we settle our choice, that we be not driven to reverse our acis, with late shame and unprofitable repentance.
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
Now did Micah begin to see some little glimpse of his own error : be saw his priesthood faulty ; he saw not the faults of his cphod, of bis images, of his gods : and yet, as if he thought all had been well when he had amended one, he says, Now I know the Lord will be good to me. The carnal heart pleases itself with an outward formality ; and so delights to flatter itself, as that it thinks, if one. circumstance be right, nothing can be amiss.
Israel was at. this time extremely corrupted ; yet the spies of the Danites had taken notice even of this young Levite, and are glad to make use of his priesthood. If they had but gone up to Shiloh, they might have consulted with the ark of God ; but worldly minds are not curious in their holy services : if they have a god, an ephod, a priest, it suffices them : they would rather en- joy a false worship with ease, than to take pains for the true. Those, that are curious in their diet, in their purchases, in their attire, in their contracts, yet in God's business are very indif- ferent.
The author of lies sometimes speaks truth for an advantage ; and from his mouth this flattering Levite speaks what he knew would please, not what he knew would fall out : the event answers his prediction, and now the spies magnify him to their fellows. Micah's idol is a god, and the Levite is his oracle. In matter of judgment, to be guided only by the event, is the way to error : falsehood shall be truth, and Satan an angel of light, if we follow this rule. Even very conjectures sometimes happen right : a pro- phet, or a dreamer, may give a true sign or wonder, and yet him- self say, Let tis go af ter other gods. A small thing can win credit with weak minds, which, where they have once sped, cannot distrust.
The idolatrous Danites are so besotted with this success, that they will rather steal than want the gods of Micah ; and because the gods without the priests can do them less service than the priest without the gods, therefore they steal the priest with the gods. Oh miserable Israelites ! that could think that a god, which could be stolen ; that could look for protection from that, which could not keep itself from stealing ; which was won by their theft, not their devotion ! Could they worship those idols more devoutly than Micah that made them ? And if they could not protect their maker from robbery, how shall they protect their thieves ? If it had been the holv ark of the true God, how could they think it would bless their violence ; or that it would abide to be translated by rapine arid extortion ? Now their superstition hath made them mad upon a god, they must have him ; by what means they care not, though they offend the true God, by stealing a false,
Sacrilege is fit to be the first service of an idol, The spies of Dan had been courteously entertained by Micah ; thus they re- warded his hospitality. It is no trusting the honesty of idolaters : if they have once cast off" the true God, whom will they respect ? It seems Levitcs did not more want maintenance, than Israel
micah's idolatry. 231 wanted Levkes : here was a tribe of Israel without a spiritual guide. The withdrawing of due means is the way to the utter de- solation of the Church : rare offerings make cold altars.
There needed small force to draw this Levite to change his charge ; Hold thy peace, and come, and be our father and priest ; whether is it better, Mc. Here is no patience, but joy : he that was won with ten shekels may be lost with eleven : when mainte- nance and honour calls him, he goes utidrrven ; and rather steals himself away, than is stolen. The Levite had too many gods, to make conscience of pleasing one : there is nothing more incon- stant, than a Levite that seeks nothing but himself.
Thus the wildfire of idolatry, which lay before couched in the. private hall of Micah, now flies furiously through all the tribe of Dan ; who, like to thieves that have carried away plague-clothes, have insensibly infected themselves and their posterity to death. Heresy and superstition have small beginnings, dangerous pro- ceedings, pernicious conclusions. This contagion is like a canker, which at the first is scarce visible ; afterwards it eats away the flesh, and consumes the body. Judges xvii, rviii.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XI.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
SIR FULKE GREVILLE, KNT.
CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNSELLORS; A MOST WISE, LEARNED, JUDICIOUS, INGENUOUS CENSOR OF SCHOLARSHIP ; A -WORTHY EXAMPLE OF BENEFACTORS TO LEARNING J
/. //.
WITH HIS UNFEIGNED PRAYERS FOR THE HAPPY SUCCESS OF ALL HIS HONOURABLE DESIGN ME NTS, HUMBLY DEDICATES THIS MEAN PIECE OF HIS STUDIES.
THE LEVITE'S CONCUBINE.
There is no complaint of a publicly disordered state, where a Le- vite is not at one end of it, either as an agent or a patient. In the idolatry of Micah and the Danitcs, a Levite was an actor ; in the violent uncleanness of Gibeah, a Levite suffers. No tribe shall sooner feel the want of government, than that of Levi.
The law of God allowed the Levite a wife ; human connivance, a concubine: neither did the Jewish concubine differ from a wife, but in some outward compliments : both might challenge all the true essence of marriage ; so little was the difference, that the fa- ther of the concubine is called the father-in-law to the Levite.
She, whom ill custom had of a wife made a concubine, is now by her lust of a concubine made a harlot : her fornication, to- gether with the chapge of her bed, hath changed her abode. Per- haps her own conscience thrust her out of doors ; perhaps the just severity of her husband. Dismission was too easy a penalty for that, which God had sentenced with death.
She, that had deserved to be abhorred of her husband, seeks shelter from her father. Why would her father suffer his house to be defiled with an adulteress, thoogh out of his own loins ? Why did
THE LEVITE's CONCUBINE.
2.19
he not rather say, " What ! dost thou think to find my house % harbour for thy sin ? While thou vvert a wife to thy hushund, thou wert a daughter to me ; now, thou art neither. Thou art not mine; I gave tiiee to thy husband: thou art not thy husband's; thou hast betrayed his bed. Thy fikhiness hath made thee thne, own, and thine adulterer's : go seek thine entertainment, where thou hast lost thine honesty. Thy lewdness hath brought a necessity of shame upon thine abettors: how can I countenance thy person, and abandon thy sin ? I would rather be a just man, than a kind father. Get thee home therefore to thy husband ; crave his for- giveness upon thy knees ; redeem his love with thy modesty and obedience. When his heart is once open to thee, my doors shall riot be shut : in the mean time, know, I can be no father to a har- lot." Indulgence of parents is the refuge of vanity, the bawd of wickedness, the bane of children. How easily is that thief induced to steal, that knows his receiver ! When the lawlessness of youth knows where to find pity and toleration, what mischief can it for- bear ?
By how much better this Levitc was, so much more injurious was the concubine's sin. What husband would not have said, U She is gone, let shame and grief go with her. I shall find one no less pleasing, and more faithful : or, if it be not too much mercv in me to y;eld to a return, let her, that hath offended, seek me : what more direct, way is there to a resolved looseness, than to let her see I cannot want her r"
The good nature of this Lcvite casts off all these terms ; and now, after four month's absence, sends him to seek for her, that had run away from her fidelity : and now he thinks, " She sinned against me ; perhaps she hath repented ; perhaps, shame and fear have withheld her from returning ; perhaps she will be more loyal, for her sin: if her importunity should win me, half the thanks were lost ; but now, my voluntary offer of favour shall oblige her for ever." Love procures truer servitude than necessity : mercy becomes well the heart of any man, but most of a Levite. He, that had helped to offer so many sacrifices to God for the multitude of every Israelite's sins, saw how proportionable it was, that man should not hold one sin unpardonable : he had served at the altar to no purpose, if he, whose trade was to sue for mercy, had not at all learned to practise it.
And if the reflection of mercy wrought this in a servant, what shall we expect from him whose essence is mercy ? O God, we do every day break the holy covenant of our love. We prosti- tute ourselves to every filthy temptation; and then run, and hide ourselves in our father's house, the world. If thou didst not seek us up, we should never return : if thy gracious prolfer did not pre- vent us, we should be incapable of forgiveness. It were abun- dant goodness in thee to receive us, when we should intreat tlu\- ; but lo, thou intreatest us that we would receive thee ! How should we now adore, and imitate thy mercy : since there is more reason,
240
CONTEMPLATIONS.
we should sue to each other, than that thou shouldcst sue to us ; because we may as well offend, as be offended !
I do not see the woman's father make any means for reconcilia- tion ; but when remission came home to his doors, no man could entertain it more thankfully. The nature of many men is forward to accept, and negligent to sue for : they can spend secret wishes upon that, which shall cost them no endeavour.
Great is the power of love, which can in a sort undo evils past ; if not for the act, yet for the remembrance. Where true affec- tion was once conceived, it is easily pieced again, after the strong- est interruption. Here needs no tedious recapitulation of wrongs, no importunity of suit. The unkindnesses are forgotten, their love is renewed ; and now the Levite is not a stranger, but a son. By how much more willingly he came, by so much more unwill- ingly he is dismissed. The four months' absence of his daughter is answered with four days' feasting. Neither was there so much joy in the former wedding feast, as in this ; because then he deliver- ed his daughter entire ; now, desperate : then he found a son ; but now, that son hath found his lost daughter, and he found both. The recovery of any good is far more pleasant than the continu- ance.
Little do we know what evil is towards us. Now did this old man and this restored couple, promise themselves all joy and con- tentment, after this unkind storm; and said in themselves, " Now we begin to live." And now this feast, which was meant for their new nuptials, proves her funeral. Even when we let ourselves loosest to our pleasures, the hand of God, though invisibly, is writing bitter things against us. Since we are not worthy to know, it is wisdom to suspect the worst, while it is least seen.
Sometimes it falls out, that nothing is more injurious than courte- sy. If this old man had thrust his son and daughter early out of doors, they had avoided this mischief ; now, his loving importu- nity detains them to their hurt, and his own repentance. Such contentment doth sincere affection find in the presence of those we love, that death itself hath no other name but departing. The greatest comfort of our life is the fruition of friendship ; the dis- solution whereof, is the greatest pain of death. As all earthly pleasures, so this of love, is distasted with a necessity of leaving. How worthy is that only love to take up our hearts, which is not open to any danger of interruption ; which shall outlive the date even of faith and hope, and is as eternal, as that God and those blessed spirits whom we love ! If we hang never so importunately upon one another's sleeves, and shed floods of tears to stop their way, yet we must be gone hence : no occasion, no force, shall then remove us from our father's house.
The Levite is stayed beyond his time by importunity, the mo- tions whereof are boundless and infinite : one day draws on ano- ther ; neither is there any reason of this day's stay, which may not serve still for to-morrow. His resolution at last breaks through all
THE LEVITE's CONCUBINE. 241
those kind hindrances: rather will he venture a benighting, than an unnecessary delay. It is a good hearing that the Levite makes haste home. An honest man's heart is where his calling is : such a one, when he is abroad, is like a fish in the air; whereinto if it leap for recreation or necessity, yet it soon returns to his own ele- ment. This charge, by how much more sacred it is, so much more attendance it expecteth. Even a day breaks square with the conscionable.
The sun is ready to lodge before them. His servant advises him to shorten his journey ; holding it more fit to trust an early inn of the Jebusites, than to the mercy of the night. And if that counsel had been followed, perhaps they, which found Jebusites in Israel, might have found Israelites in Jehus. No wise man can hold good counsel disparaged, by the meanness of the author : if we be glad to receive any treasure from our servant, why not precious admonitions ?
It was the zeal of this Levite, that shut him out of Jehus ; We will not lodge in the city of strangers. The Jebusites were strangers in religion, not strangers enough in their habitation : the Levite will not receive common courtesy from those which were aliens from God, though home-born in the heart of Israel. It is lawful enough in terms of civility to deal with infidels : the earth is the Lord's ; and we may enjoy it in the right of the owner, while we protest against the wrong of the usurper : yet the less communion with God's enemies, the more safety. If tiiere were another air to breathe in from theirs, another earth to tread upon, they should have their own. Those, that affect a familiar entireness with Jebu- sites, in conversation, in leagues of amity, in matrimonial con- tracts, bewray either too much boldness or too little conscience.
He hath no blood of an Israelite, that delights to lodge in Jebus. It was the fault of Israel, that a heathenish town stood yet in the navel of the tribes, and that Jebus was no sooner turned to Jeru- salem. Their lenity and neglect were guilty of this neighbour- hood, that now no man can pass from Bethlehem-Judah to Mount Ephraim, but by the city of the Jebusites. Seasonable justice might prevent a thousand evils, which afterwards know no remedy but patience.
The way was not long betwixt Jebus and Gibeah ; for the sun was stooping when the Levite was over against the first, and is but now declined when he comes to the other. How his heart was lightened, when be entered into an Israelitish city ! and can think of nothing hut hospitality, rest, security. There is no perfume so sweet to a traveller, as his own smoke. Both expectation and fear do commonly disappoint us ; for seldom ever do we enjoy the good we look for, or smart with a feared evil.
The poor Levite could have found but such entertainment with the Jebusites. Whither are the posterity of Benjamin degene- rated, that their Gibeah should be no less wicked than populous ?
The first sign of a settled godlessncss, is, that a Levite is suffered,
VOL. I. R
212 CONTEMPLATIONS.
to lie without doors. If God had been in any of their houses, his; servant had not been excluded. Where no respect is given to God's messengers, there can be no religion.
Gibeah was a second Sodom : even there also is another Lot ; which is therefore so much more hospitable to strangers, because himself was a stranger. The host, as well as the Levite, is of Mount Ephraim : each man knows best to commiserate that evil in others, which himself hath passed through. All that profess the name of Christ are countrymen, and yet strangers here below. How cheerfully should we entertain each other, when we meet in the Gibeah of this inhospitable world !
This good old man of Gibeah came home late from his work in the fields : the sun was set ere he gave over ; and now, seeing this man a stranger, an Israelite, a Levite, an Ephraimite, and that in his way to the house of God, to take up his lodging in the street, he proffers him the kindness of his house-room. Industrious spirits are the fittest receptacles of all good motions ; whereas those, which give themselves to idle and loose courses, do nbt care so much as for themselves. I hear of but one man at his work in all Gibeah ; the rest were quaffing and revelling. That one man ends his work with a charitable entertainment ; the other end their play in a brutish beastliness and violence.
These villains had learned both the actions and the language of the Sodomites: one unclean devil was the prompter to both; and this honest Ephraimite had learned of righteous Lot, both to en- treat and to proffer. As a perplexed mariner, that in a storm must cast away something, although ptfeciotis ; so this good host, rather will prostitute his daughter a virgin, together with the con- cubine, than this prodigious villany should be offered to a man, much more to a man of God. -
The detestation of a fouler sin drew him to over-reach in the motion of a lesser; which if it had been accepted, how could he have escaped the partnership of their uncleanness, and the guilt of his daughter's ravishment ? No man can wash his hands of that sin, to which his will hath yielded. Bodily violence maybe inof- fensive in the patient ; voluntary inclination to evil, though out of fear, can never be excuseable : yet behold, this wickedness is too little to satisfy these monsters.
Who would have looked for so extreme abomination from the loms of Jacob, the womb of Rachel, the sons of Benjamin ? Could the very Jebusites, their neighbours, be ever accused of such un- natural outrage ? I am ashamed to say it, even the worst pagans were saints to Israel. What avails it, that they have the ark of God in Shiloh, while they have Sodom in their streets? that the law of God is in their fringes, while the devil is in their hearts ? Nothing but hell itself can yield a worse creature than a depraved Israelite : the very means of his reformation are the fuel of his wickedness.
Yet Lot sped so much better in Sodom than this Ephraimite did in Gibeah, by how much more holy guests he entertained : there, the guests were angels ; here, a sinful man : there, the guests saved
THE DESOLATION OF BENJAMIN. 243
the host ; here, the host could not save the guest from brutish vio- lence : those Sodomites were stricken with outward blindness, and defeated ; these Benjamites are only blinded with lust, and prevail.
The Levite comes forth : perhaps, his coat saved his person from this villany ; who now thinks himself well, that he may have leave to redeem his own dishonour with his concubine's. If he had not loved her dearly, he had never sought her so far, after so foul a sin ; yet now his hate of that unnatural wickedness overcame his love to her: she is exposed to the furious lust of ruffians, and (which he misdoubteth) abused to death.
Oh the just and even course which the Almighty Judge of the world holds in all his retributions ! This woman had shamed the bed of a Levite, by her former wantonness : she had thus far gone smoothly awav with her sin ; her father harboured her; her husband forgave her ; her own heart found no cause to complain, because she smarted not : now, when the world had forgotten her offence, God calls her to reckoning, and punishes her with her own sin. She had voluntarily exposed herself to lust ; now is exposed for- cibly. Adultery was her sin, adultery was her death. What smiles soever wickedness casts upon the heart, while it solicits ; it will owe us a displeasure, and prove itself a faithful debtor.
The, Levite looked to find her humbled with this violence, not murdered ; and now indignation moves him to add horror to the fact. Had not his heart been raised up with an excess of desire, to make the crime as odious as it was sinful, his action could not be excused. Those hands, that might not touch a caixase, now carve the corpse of his own dead wife into morsels, and send these tokens to all the tribes of Israel ; that when they should see these gobbets of the body murdered, the more they might detest the murderers. Himself puts on cruelty to the dead, that he might draw them to a just revenge of her death. Actions notoriously villanous may justly countenance an extraordinary means of prosecution. Every Israelite hath a part in a Levite's wrong. No tribe hath not his share in the carcase and the revenge. Judges xix.
THE DESOLATION OF BKNJ.UHX.
These morsels could not choose but cut the hearts of Israel with horror and compassion ; horror of the act, and compassion of the sufferer : and now their zeal draws thein together, either for satis- faction or revenge. Who would not have looked, that the hands of Benjamin should have been first upon Gibeah ; and that they should have readily sent the heads of the offenders, for a second service after the gobbets of the concubine ? But now, instead of punishing the sin, they patronise the actors ; and will rather die in resisting justice, than live and prosper in furthering it.
Surely, Israel had one tribe too many : all Benjamin is turned into Gibeah ; the sons, not of Benjamin but of Belial. The abet- ting of evil is worse than the commission ; this may be upon in- firmity, but that must be upon resolution. Easy punishment is too
244 CONTEMPLATIONS.
much favour to sin ; connivance is much worse ; but the defence of it, and that unto blood, is intolerable.
Had not these men been both wicked and quarrelsome, they had not drawn their swords in so foul a cause. Peaceable dispositions are hardly drawn to fight for innocence ; yet these Benjaminites, as if they were in love with villany and out of charity with God, will be the wilful champions of lewdness. How can Gibeah repent them of that wickedness, which all Benjamin will make good, in spite of their consciences ? Even where sin is suppressed, it will rise ; but where it is encouraged, it insults and tyrannizes.
It was more just that Israel should rise against Benjamin, than that Benjamin should rise for Gibeah, by how much it is better to punish offenders, than to shelter the offenders from punishment ; and yet the wickedness of Benjamin sped better for the time, than the honesty of Israel. Twice was the better part foiled by the less and worse : the good cause was sent back with shame ; the evil re- turned with victory and triumph. O God, their hand was for thee in the fight, and thy hand was with them in their fall : they had not fought for thee, but by thee ; neither could they have miscarried in the fight, if thou hadst not fought against them : thou art just and holy in both. The cause was thine ; the sin in managing of it was their own. They fought in a holy quarrel, but with confi- dence in themselves ; for, as presuming of victory, they ask of God, not what should be their success, but who should be their captain. Number and innocence made them too secure : it was just therefore with God, to let them feel, that even good zeal can- not bear our presumption ; and that victory lies not in the cause, but in the God that owns it.
Who cannot imagine, how much the Benjaminites insulted in their double field and day ; and now began to think God was on their side ? Those swords, which had been taught the way into forty thousand bodies of their brethren, cannot fear a nevy encoun- ter. Wicked men cannot see their prosperity a piece of their curse; neither can examine their actions, but the events: soon after, they shall find what it was, to add blood unto filthiness ; and that the victory of an evil cause is the way to ruin and confusion.
I should have feared, lest this double discomfiture should have made Israel either distrustful or weary of a good cause ; but still I find them no less courageous, with more humility. Now, they fast, and weep, and sacrifice. These weapons had been victorious in their first assault ; Benjamin had never been in danger of pride for overcoming, if this humiliation of Israel had prevented the fight. It is seldom seen, but that, which we do with fear, prosper- eth ; whereas confidence in undertaking lays even good endeavour* in the dust.
Wickedness could never brag of any long prosperity, nor com- plain of the lack of payment : still God is even with it at last. Now he pays the Benjaminites, both that death which they had lent to the Israelite-;, and that wherein they stood indebted to their brotherhood of Gibeah: and now, that both are met in death, thcra
THE DESOLATION OF BENJAMIN;
245
is as much difference betwixt those Israelites and these Benjamin- ires, as betwixt martyrs and malefactors. To die in a sin, is a fearful revenge of giving patronage to sin : the sword consumes their bodies, another fire their cities, whatsoever became of their souls.
Now might Rachel have justly wept for her children, because they were not ; for, behold, the men, women, and children of her wicked tribe are cut oft': only some few scattered remainders ran away from this vengeance, and lurked in caves and rocks, both for fear and shame. There was no difference, but life, betwixt their brethren and them : the earth covered them both : yet unto them doth the revenge of Israel stretch itself, and vows to destroy, if not their persons, yet their succession ; as holding them unworthy to receive any comfort by that sex, to which they had been so crucl^ both in act and maintenance. If the Israelites had not held mar- riage and issue a very great blessing, they had not thus revenged themselves of Benjamin : now, they accounted the with-holding of their wives, a punishment second unto death. The hope of life in our posterity, is the next contentment to an enjoying of life in ourselves.
They have sworn, and now upon cold blood repent them. If the oath were not just, why would they take it ? and if it were just, why did they recant it ? If the act were justifiable, what needed these tears? Even a just oath may be rashly taken: not only in- justice, but temerity of swearing ends in lamentation. In our very civil actions, it is a weakness to do that which we would after re- verse ; but in our affairs with God, to check ourselves too late, and to steep our oaths in tears, is a dangerous folly. He doth not command us to take voluntary oaths ; he commands us to keep> them. If we bind ourselves to inconvenience, we may justly com- plain of our own fetters. Oaths do not only require justice, but judgment ; wise deliberation, no less than equity.
Not conscience of their fact, but commiseration of their bre- thren, led them to this public repentance. O God, why is this come to pass, that this day one tribe of Israel shall want ? Even the justest revenge of men is capable of pity. Insult in the ri- gour of justice argues cruelty. Charitable minds are grieved to see that done, which they would not wish undone : the smart of the; offender doth not please them, which yet are thoroughly displeased with the sin, and have given their hands to punish it. God himself takes no pleasure in the death of a sinner, yet loves the punishment of sin ; as a good parent whips his child, yet weeps himself. There is a measure in victory and revenge, if never so just ; which to ex- ceed, loses mercy in the suit of justice.
If there were no fault in their severity, it needed no excuse ; and if there were a fault, it will admit of no excuse : yet, as if they meant to shift off the sin, they expostulate with God ; 0 Lord God of Israel, why is this come to pass this day ? God gave them no command ot this rigour ; yea, he twice crossed them in the exe- cution, and now in that which they entreated of God with tears,
CONTEMPLATIONS.
they challenge him. It is a dangerous injustice, to lay the burthen of our sins upon him which tempteth no man, nor can be tempted with evil : while we would so remove our sin, we double it.
A man, that knew not the power of an oath, would wonder at this contrariety in the affections of Israel : they are sorry for the slaughter of Benjamin ; and yet they slay those that did not help them in the slaughter. Their oath calls them to more blood. The excess of their revenge upon Benjamin may not excuse the men of Gilead. If ever oath might look for a dispensation, this might
f)lead it ; now, they dare not but kill the men of Jabesh-Gilead, est they should have left upon themselves a greater sin of sparing than punishing.
Jabesh-Gilead came not up to aid Israel, therefore all the inha- bitants must die. To exempt ourselves, whether out of singularity or stubbornness, from the common actions of the Church, when we are lawfully called to them, is an offence worthy of judgment. In the main quarrels of the Church, neutrals are punished.
This execution shall make amends for the former : of the spoil of Jabesh-Gilead, shall the Benjaminites be stored with wives : that no man may think these men slain for their daughters, they plainly die for their sin ; and these Gileadites might not have lived, with- out the perjury of Israel : and now, since they must die, it is good to make benefit of necessity. I inquire not into the rigour of the oath. If their solemn vow did not bind them to kill all of both sexes in Benjamin, why did they not spare their virgins ? And if it did so bind them, why did they spare the virgins of Gilead ? Favours must be enlarged in all these religious restrictions : where breath may be taken in them, it is not fit nor safe they should be straitened.
Four hundred virgins of Gilead have lost parents, and brethren, and kindred^ and now find husbands in lieu of them. An enforced marriage was but a miserable comfort for such a loss : like wards or captives, they are taken, and chuse not. These suffice not: their friendly adversaries consult for more upon worse conditions. Into what troublesome and dangerous straits do men thrust them- selves, by either unjust or inconsiderate Vows !
In the midst of ail this common lawlessness of Israel, here was conscience made on both sides, of matching with infidels : the Israelites can rather be content their daughters should be stolen by their own, than that the daughters of aliens should be given them. These men which had not grace enough to detest and punish the beastliness of their Gileadites, yet are not so graceless, as to chuse them wives of the heathen. All but atheists, howsoever they let themselves loose, yet in some things find themselves restrained, and shew to others that they have a conscience. If there were not much danger and much sin in this unequal yoke, they would never have persuaded to so heavy an inconvenience : disparity of religion in matrimonial contracts hath so many mischiefs, that it is worthy to be redeemed with much prejudice.
They, which might nctgive their own daughters to Benjamin, yet
NAOMI AND RUTH.
247
give others, while they give leave to steal them. Stolen marriages are both unnatural and full of hazard ; for love, whereof marriage is the knot, cannot be forced. This was rather rape, than wedlock. What unlikeness, perhaps contrariety, of disposition, what averse- ness of affection, may there be in not only a sudden, but a force- able meeting ! If these Benjaminites had not taken liberty of giv- ing themselves ease by divorcement, they would have often found leisure to rue this stolen booty. This act may not be drawn to ex- ample ; and yet here was a kind of indefinite consent: both delibe- ration and good liking are little enough for a during estate, and that which is once done for ever.
These virgins come up to the feast of the Lord ; and now, out of the midst of their dances, are carried to a double captivity. How many virgins have lost themselves in dances ! And yet this sport was not immodest. These virgins danced by themselves, without the company of those which might move towards unchas- tity ; for, if any men had been with them, they had found so many rescuers, as they had assaulters ; now, the exposing of their weak sex to this injury proves their innocence. Our usual dances are guilty of more sin : wanton gestures, and unchaste touches, looks, motions, draw the heart to folly : the ambushes of evil spirits carry away many a soul from dances to a fearful desolation.
It is supposed, that the parents thus robbed of their daughters will take it heavily. There cannot be a greater cross, than the miscarriage of children: they are not only the living goods, but pieces of their parents ; that they should therefore be torn from thein by violence, is no less injury, than the dismembering of their own bodies. Judges s.r, xxi.
NAOMI AND RUTH.
Betwixt the reign of the Judges, Israel was plagued with tyran- ny ; and while some of them reigned, with famine. Seldom did that rebellious people want somewhat to humble them : one rod is not enough for a stubborn child.
The famine must needs be great, that makes the inhabitants to run their country. The name of home is so sweet, that we tan- not leave it for a little. Behold, that land which had wont to flow with milk and honey, now abounds with want and penury ; and Bethlehem, instead of a house of bread, is a house of famine. A fruitful land doth God make barren, for the wickedness of them that dwell therein. The earth bears not for itself, but for us; .God is not angry with it, but with men. For our sakes, it was first cursed to thorns and thistles ; after that, to moisture ; and since that, not seldom, to drought ; and by all these, to barrenuess. We may not look always for plenty. It is a wonder, while there is such superfluity of wickedness, that our earth is no more sparing of her fruits.
The whole earth is the Lord's, and in him. ours, It is lawful fojr
248 CONTEMPLATIONS.
the owners, to change their houses at pleasure. Why should we not make tree use of any part of our own possessions ? P^limelcch and his family remove from Bethlehem- J udah unto Moab. No- thing but necessity can dispense with a loc al relinquishing of God's Church ; not pleasure, nor profit, nor curiosity. Those, which are famished out, God calls, yea, drives from thence. The Crea- tor and Possessor of the earth hath not confined any man to his ne- cessary destruction.
It was lawful for Elimelech to make use of pagans and idolaters, for the supply of all needful helps. There cannot be a better em- ployment of Moabites, than to be the treasurers and purveyors of God's children : wherefore serve they, but to gather for the true owners ? It is too much niceness in them, which forbear the bene- fit they mightmake of the faculties of profane or heretical persons: they consider not, that they have more right to the good such men can do, than they that do it and challenge that good for their own.
But I cannot see how it could be lawful, for his sons to match with the daughters of Moab. Hail these men heard how far, and under how solemn an oath, their father Abraham sent for a wife of his own tribe for his son Isaac ? Had they heard the earnest charge of holy Isaac to the son he blessed, Thou shall not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan? Had they forgotten the plagues of Is- rael, for but a short conversation with the Moabitish women ? If they plead remoteness from their own people ; did they not re- member how far Jacob walked to Padan-Arain ? Was it further from Moab to Bethlehem, than from Bethlehem to Moab ? And if the care of themselves led them from Bethlehem to Moab, should not their care of obedience to God have as well carried them back from Moab to Bethlehem ? Yet if their wives would have left their idolatry with their maidenhead, the match had been more safe ; but now, even at the last farewell, Naomi can say of Orpah, that she is returned to her gods.
These men have sinned in their choice, and it speeds with them accordingly. Where did ever one of these unequal matches pro- sper ? The two sons of Elimelech are swept away childless, in the prime of their age ; and, instead of their seed, they leave their carcases in Moab, their wives widows, their mother childless, and helpless among infidels, in that age which most needed comfort.
How miserable do we now find poor Naomi ! which is left desti- tute of her country, her husband, her children, her friends ; and turned loose and solitary to the mercy of the world : yet even out of these hopeless ruins, will God raise comfort to his servant. The first good news is, that God hath visited his people with bread ; now therefore, since her husband and sons were irrecoverable, she will try to recover her country and kindred. If we can have the same conditions in Judah that we have in Moab, we are no Israel- ites, if we return not. While her husband and sons lived, I hear no motion of retiring home : now these her earthly stays are re- moved, she thinks presently of removing to her country. Neither can we so heartily think of our home above, while we are furnished
NAOMI AND RUTH. 249 with these worldly contentments: when God strips us of them, straightwavs our mind is homeward.
She, that came from Bethlehem, under the protection of a hus- band, attended with her sons, stored with substance, resolves now to measure all that way alone. Her adversity had stripped her of all, but a good heart ; that remains with her, and bears up her head in the deepest of her extremity. True Christian fortitude wades through all evils ; and though we be up to the chin, yet keeps firm footing against the stream : where this is, the sex is not discerned ; neither is the quantity of the evil read in the face. How well doth this courage become Israelites, when we are left comfortless in the midst of the Moab of this world, to resolve the contempt of all dan- gers, in the way to our home! As contrarily, nothing doth more mis-beseem a Christian, than that his spirit should Hag with his estate ; and that any difficulty should make him despair of attain- ing his best ends.
Goodness is of a winning quality, wheresoever it is ; and even amongst infidels will make itself friends. The good disposition of Naomi carries away the hearts of her daughters-in-law with her ; so as they are readv to forsake their kindred, their country, yea their own mother, for a stranger, whose affinity died with her sons. Those men arc worse than infidels, and next to devils, that hate the virtues of God's saints ; and could love their persons well, if they were not conscionable.
How earnestly do these two daughters of Moab plead for their continuance with Naomi ; and how hardly is either of them dis- suaded from partaking of the misery of her society ! There are good natures even among infidels ; and such as, for moral disposition and civil respects, cannot be exceeded by the best professors. Who can suffer his heart to rest in those qualities, which are com- mon to them that are without God ?
Naomi could not lie so insensible of her own good, as not to know how much comfort she might reap to the solitariness, both of her voyage and her widowhood, bv the society of these two younger widows, whose affections she had so well tried ; even very part- nership is a mitigation of evils ; yet so earnestly doth she dissuade them from accompanying her, as that she could not have said more, it she thought their presence irksome and burdensome. Good dis- positions love not to pleasure themselves with the disadvantage of others, and would rather be miserable alone, than to draw in partners to their sorrow ; for the sight of another's calamity doth rather double their own ; and if themselves were free would affect them with compassion : as contrarily, ill minds care not how many companions they have in misery, nor how few consorts in good; if themselves miscarry, they could be content all the world were enwrapped with them in the same distress.
I marvel not that Orpah is by this seasonable importunity per- suaded to return ; from a mother-in-law, to a mother in nature ; from a toilsome journey, to rest ; from strangers, to her kindred ; Jioni a hopeless condition, to likelihoods of contentment. A little
250
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entreaty will serve to move nature to be good unto itself. Every one is rather a Naomi to bis own soul, to persuade it. to stay still, and enjoy the delights of Moab, rather than to hazard our entertain- ment in Bethlehem. Will religion allow me this wild liberty of my actions, this loose mirth, these carnal pleasures ? Can I be a Chris- tian, and not live sullenly ? None but a regenerate heart can chuse rather to suffer adversity with God's people, than to enjoy the plea- sures of sin for a season. '
The one sister takes an unwilling farewell, and moistens her_last kisses with many tears: the other cannot be driven back, but re- pels one entreaty with another ; Entreat mc not to leave thee ; for whither thou goest, I will go ; where thou dwellcst, I will dwell j thy people shall be my people ; thy God ray God ; where thou diest, I will die, and there will I be buried, Ruth saw so much upon ten years' trial in Naomi, as was more worth than all Moab ; and in comparison whereof, all worldly respects deserved nothing but con- tempt: the next degree unto godliness is the love of goodness : he is in a fair way to grace, that can value it ; if she had not been al- ready a proselyte, she could not have set this price upon Naomi's virtue. Love cannot be separated from a desire of fruition : in vain had Ruth protested her affection to Naomi, if she could have turned her out to her journey alone : love to the saints doth not more argue our interest in God, than society argues the truth of our love.
As some tight vessel that holds out against wind and water, so did Ruth against all tiie powers of a mother's persuasions. The im- possibility of the comfort of marriage in following her, which, drew back her sister-in-law, cannot move her. She hears her mo- ther, like a modest matron, contrary to the fashion of these times, say, I am too old to have a husband ; -and yet she thinks not on the contrary, " I am too young to want a husband."
It should seem, the Moabites had learned this fashion of Israel, to expect the brother's raising of seed to the deceased: the widowhood and age of Naomi cuts off that hope ; neither could Ruth then dream of a Boaz that might advance her : it is no love, that can- not make us willing to be miserable for those we affect : the hol- lowest heart can be content to follow one that prospereth : adver- sity is the only furnace of friendship : if love will not abide both fire and anvil, it is but counterfeit ; so in our love to God, we do but crack and vaunt in vain, if we cannot be willing to suffer for him.
But if any motive might hope to speed, that which was drawn from example was most likely ; Behold, tbty sister-in-law is gone back unto her people, and to her gods ; return thou after her. This one artless persuasion hath prevailed more with the world, than all the places of reason: how many millions miscarry upon this ground ; " Thus did my forefathers ; thus do the most : I am neither the first, nor the last !" Do any of the riders? We strait think that either safe or pardonable, for which we can plead a pre- cedent. This good woman hath more warrant for her resolution,
KOAZ AND RUTH. 251
than another's practice. The mind can never be steady, while it stands upon others' feet, and till it be settled upon such grounds of assurance, that it will rather lead than follow ; and can say with Joshua, whatsoever become of the world, / and my house will serve the Lord.
If Naomi had not been a person of eminent note, no knowledge had been taken at Bethlehem of her return. Poverty is ever ob- scure ; and those that have little may go and come without noise. If the streets of Bethlehem had not before used to say, " There goes Naomi:1' they had not now asked, Is not this Naomi? She, that had lost all things but her name, is willing to part with that also; Call me not Naomi, but call me Marah. Her humility cares little for a glorious name, in a dejected estate. Many a one would have set faces upon their want ; and, in the bitterness of their con- dition, have affected the name of beauty. In all forms of good, there are more that, care to seem, than to be : Naomi hates this hy- pocrisy ; and, since God hath humbled her, desires not to be re- spected of men. Those, which arc truly brought down, make it not dainty that the world should think them so ; but are ready to be the first proclaimers of their own viieness.
Naomi went full out of Bethlehem, to prevent want ; and now she brings that want home with her, which she desired to avoid. Our blindness oft-times carries us into the perils we seek to eschew : God finds it best many times, to cross the likely projects of his dearest children ; and to multiply those afflictions, which they feared single.
Ten years have turned Naomi into Marah : what assurance is there of these earthly things, whereof one hour may strip us ? What man can say of the years to come, " Thus I will be ?" How justly do we contemn this uncertainty, and look up to those riches thatcannotbutendure, when lieavenandeartharedissolved ! Iiuthi.
BOAZ AND RUTH.
WHlLfi Elimelech shifted to Moab to avoid the famine, Boaz abode still at Bethlehem, and continued rich and powerful: he staid at home ; and found that, which Elimelech went to seek au.l missed. The judgment of famine doth not lightlv extend itself to all : pes- tilence and the sword spare none; but dearth commonly plagueth the meaner sort, and balketh t he mighty. When Boaz's storehouse was empty, his fields were full, and maintained the name of Bethle^- hem.
I do not hear Ruth stand upon the terms of her better education or wealthy parentage ; but now, that God hath called her to want, sRc scorns not to lay her hand unto all homely services ; and thinks it no disparagement, to find her bread in other men's fields : there is no harder lesson to a generous mind, nor that more beseems it, than either to bear want, or to prevent it : base spirits give them- selves over to idleness and misery ; and because they are crossed, will sullenly perish.
25-2 . CO NT£M PL AXIOM'S.
Tliat good woman hath not been for nothing in the schoi?! of patience ; she hath learned obedience to a poor step-mother : she was now a widow, past reach of any danger of correction ; besides, that penury might seem to dispense with awe. Even children do easily learn to contemn the poverty of their own parents Yet hath she inured herself to obedience, that she will not so much as go forth into the field to glean, without the leave of her mother-in-law ; and is no less obsequious to Marah, than she was to Naomi. What shall we say to those children, that in the main action.-; of their life forget they have natural parents ? It is a shame to see, that in mean families want of substance causeth want of duty ; and that children should think themselves privi- leged for irreverence, because the parent is poor.
Little do we know when we go forth in the morning, what God means to do with us ere night. There is a providence that attends on us in all our ways, and guides us insensibly to his own ends. That divine hand leads Ruth blind-fold to the field of Boaz. That she meets with his reapers, and falls upon his land amongst all the fields of Bethlehem, it was no praise to her election, but the gra- cious disposition of him, in whom we move: his thoughts are above ours, and do so order our actions, as we, if we had known, should have wished.
No sooner is she come into the field, but the reapers are friendly to her ; no sooner is Boaz come into his field, but he invites her to more bounty than she could have desired : now, God begins to re- pay into her bosom her love and duty to her mother-in-law. Re- verence and loving respects to parents never yet went away uni'e- compensed : God will surely raise up friends amongst strangers, to those that have been officious at home.
It was worth Ruth's journey from Moab, to meet with such a man as Boaz ; whom we find thrifty, religious, charitable. Though he were rich, yet lie was not careless : he comes into the field to oversee his reapers. Even the best estate requires careful manag- ing of the owner. He wanted no officers to take charge of his husbandry, yet he would rather be his own witness : after all the trust of others, the master's eye feeds the horse. The master of the great household of the world gives us an example of this care, whose eye is in every corner of his large possession. Not civility only, but religion, binds us to good husbandry. We'are all stew- ards ; and what account can we give to our Master, if we never look after our estate ?
I doubt whether Boaz had been so rich, if he had not been so frugal ; yet was he not more thrifty than religious : he comes not to his reapers, but with a blessing in his mouth : The Lord be with you, as one that knew, if he were with them, and not the Lord, his presence could avail nothing. All the business of the family speeds the better for the master's benediction. Those affairs are likely to succeed, that take their beginning at God.
Charity was well matched with his religion ; without which, good works are but hypocrisy : no sooner doth he hear the name of the Moabitess, but he seconds the kindness of his reapers ; and
BOAZ AND RUTH.
253
still he rises in his favours : first, she may glean in his field ; then, 6he may drink of his vessels ; then, she shall take her meal with his reapers, and part of it from his own hand ; lastly, his workmen must let fall sheaves for her gathering.
A small thing helps the needy : a handful of gleanings, a lap- full of parched corn, a draught of the servants' bottles, a loose sheaf, was such a favour to Ruth, as she thought was above all re- compence : this was not seen in the estate of Boaz, which yet makes her for the time happy. If we mav refresh the soul of the poor with the very offals of our estate, and not hurt ourselves, woe be to us if we do it not. Our barns shall be as full of curses as of corn, if we grudge the scattered ears of our field to the hands of the needv.
How thankful doth Ruth take these small favours from Boaz ! Perhaps some rich jewel in Moab would not have been so welcome. Even this was a presage of her better estate. Those, which shall receive great blessings, are ever thankful for little ; and if poor souls be so thankful to us, for but a handful or a sheaf, how should we be affected to our God, for whole fields full, for full barns, full garners !
Doubtless, Boaz, having taken notice of the good nature, duti- ful carriage, and the near affinity of Ruth, could not but purchase some greater beneficence and higher respects to her : yet now on- wards he fits his kindness to her condition ; and gives her that, which to her meanness seemed much, though he thought it little. Thus doth the bounty of our God deal with us : it is not for want of love, that he gives us no greater measure of grace, but for want of our fitness and capacity : he hath reserved greater preferments for us, when it shall be seasonable for us to receive them.
Ruth returns home wealthy, with her ephah of barley ; and thankfully magnifies the liberality of* Boaz, her new benefactor: Naomi repays his beneficence with her blessing ; Blessed be he of the Lord. If" the rich can exchange their alms with the poor for blessings, they have no cause to complain of an ill bargain. Our gifts cannot be worth their faithful prayers : therefore it is better to give titan to receive ; because he that receives, hath but a worth- less alms ; he that gives, receives an invaluable blessing.
I cannot but admire thcmodesty and silence of thesctwo women: Naomi had not so much as talked of her kindred in Bethlehem, nor till now had she told Ruth that she had a wealthy kinsman ; neither had Ruth inquired of her husband's great alliance; but both sat down meekly with their own wants, and cared not to know any thing else, save that themselves were poor. Humility is ever the way to honour.
It is a discourtesy, where we are beholden, to alter our depen- dancy : like as men of trade take it ill, if customers which are in their books go for their wares to another shop. Wisely doth Naomi advise Ruth, not to be seen in any other field, while the harvest lasted. The very taking of their favours is a contentment to those, which have already well deserved; and it is quarrel
2bi CONTEMPLATIONS.
enough, that their courtesy is not received. How shall the God of heaven tyke it, that, while he gives and proffers large, we run to the world, that can afford us nothing hut vanity and vexation ?
Those, that can least act, are oft-times the best to advise. Good old Naomi sits still at home, and by her counsel pays Ruth all the Jove she owes her.
The face of that action, to which she directs her, is the worst piece of it; the heart was sound. Perhaps, the assurance, which long trial had given her of the good government and firm chastity of her daughter-in-law, together with her persuasion of the reli- gious gravity of Boaz^ made her think that design safe, which to others had been perilous, if not desperate. But besides that, hold- ing Boaz next of blood to Elimelech, she made account of him as the lawful husband of Ruth ; so as there wanted nothing but a challenge and consummation. Nothing was abated, but. some out- ward solemnities, which, though expedient for the satisfaction of others, yet were not essential, to marriage.
And if there were not these colours for a project so suspicious, it would not follow, that the action were warrantable because Naomi's. Why should her example be more safe in this, than in matching her sons with infidels ; than in sending back Orpah to her father's gods ? If every act of a holy person should be our rule, we should have crooked lives : every action, that is reported, is not straightways allowed. Our courses were very uncertain, if God had not given us rules, whereby we may examine the examples of the best saints ; and as well censure, as follow them. Let them, that stumble at the boldness of Ruth, imitate the continence of Boaz.
These times were not delicate. This man, though great in Beth- lehem, lavs him down to rest upon a pallat, in the Moor of his barn. When he awakes at midnight, no marvel if he were ama- zed to find himself accompanied ; yet, though his heart were cheered with wine, the place solitary, the night silent, the person comely, the invitation plausible, could he not be drawn to a rash act of lust : his appetite could not get the victory of reason, though it had wine and opportunity to help it. Herein Boaz shewed himself a great master of his affections, that he was able to re*ist a fit temptation. It is no thank to many, that they are free of some evils : perhaps they wanted not will, but convenience. But if a man, when he is fitted with all helps to his sin, can repel the pleasure of sin out. of conscience, this is true fortitude.
Instead of touching her as a wanton, he blesses her as a father, encourageth her as a friend, promiseth her as a kinsman, rewards her as a patron, and sends her away laden with hopes and gilts ; no less chaste, more happy than she came. Oh admirable temper- ance, worthy the progenitor of him, in whose hps and heart was no guile !
If Boaz had been the next kinsman, the marriage had needed no protraction ; but now that his conscience told him, that Ruth was the right of another, it had not been more sensuality than in-
BOAZ AND RUTH. 255
just ice, to have touched his kinswoman. It was not any bodily im- potency, but honesty and conscience, that restrained Boaz ; for the very next night she conceived by hinij That good man wish- ed his marriage-bed holy, and durst not lie down in the doubt of a sin. Many a man is honest out of necessity, and affects the praise of that, which he could not avoid ; but that man's mind is still an adulterer, in the forced continence of his body. No action can give us true comfort, but that which we do out of the grounds of obedience.
Those, which are fearful of sinning, are careful not to be thought to sin. Boaz, though he knew himself to be. clear, would not
" have occasion of suspicion given to others ; Let no man knoxi\ that a woman came into the floor : a good heart is no less afraid of a scandal, than of a sin ; whereas those, that are resolved not to make any scruple of sin, despise others' constructions, not caring whom they offend, so that they may please themselves.
That Naomi might see her daughter-in-law was not sent back in dislike, she comes home laden with corn. Puith hath gleaned more this night, than in half the harvest. The care of Boaz was, that she would not return to her mother empty : love, wheresoever it is, cannot be niggardly. We measure, the love of God by his gifts: how shall he abide to send us away empty from those treasures of
" goodness !
Boaz is restless in the prosecution of this suit ; and hies him from his thrashing floor to the gate, and there convenes the nearer kins- man before the elders of the city. What was it that made Boaz so ready to entertain, so forward to urge this match r Wealth she had none, not so much as bread, but what she gleaned out of the field ; friends she had none, and those she had elsewhere, Moab- ites ; beauty she could not have much, after that scorching in her travel, in her gleanings : himself tells her what drew his heart to her ; All the city of my people doth know that thou art a virtuous woman. Virtue, in whomsoever it is found, is a great dowry; and where it meets with a heart that knows how to value it, is ac- counted greater riches than all that is hid in the bowels of the earth. The corn heap of Boaz was but chaff to this, and his money dross.
As a man that had learned to square his actions to the Law of God, Boaz proceeds legally with his rival ; and tells him of a par- cel of Elimelech's land (which, it is like, upon his removal to Moab, he had alienated ;) which he, as the next kinsman, might have power to redeem ; yet so as he must purchase the wife of the deceased, with the land. Every kinsman is not a Boaz : the man could listen to the land, if it hadi been free from the clog of a ne- cessary marriage ; but now he will rather leave the land, than take the wife, lest, while he should preserve Elimelech's inheritance, he should destroy his own ; for the next seed, which he should have by Ruth, should not be his heir, but his deceased kinsman's. How knew he, whether God might not by that wife send heirs enough, for both their estates ? Bather would he therefore incur a manifest
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injustice, than hazard the danger of his inheritance. The law of God bound him to raise up seed to the next in blood ; the care of his inheritance draws him to a neglect of his duty, though with in- famy and reproach j and now, he would rather his face should be spit upon, and his name should be called, The house of him whose shoe was pulled off, than to reserve the honour of him, that did his brother right to his own prejudice.
How many are there, that do so ovcrlove their issue, as that they regard neither sin nor shame in advancing it ; and that will rather endanger their soul, than lose their name ! It is a woeful inheri- tance, that makes men heirs of the vengeance of God. Boaz is glad to take the advantage of his refusal ; and holds that shoe, which was the sign of his tenure, more worth than all the land of Elimelech. And whereas other wives purchase their husbands with a large dowry, this man purchaseth his wife at a dear rate, and thinks his bargain happy. All the substance of the earth is not worth a virtuous and prudent wife ; which Boaz doth now so re- joice in, as if he this day only began to be wealthy.
Now is Ruth taken into the house of Boaz : she, that before had said she was not like one of his maidens, is now become their mis- tress. This day she hath gleaned all the fields and barns of a rich husband ; and, that there might be no want in her happiness, by a gracious husband she hath gained a happy seed ; and hath the ho- nour, above all the dames of Israel, to be the great grandmother of a king, of David, of the Messiah.
Now is Marah turned back again to Naomi ; and Orpah, if she hear of this in Moab, cannot but envy at her sister's happiness. Oh the sure and bountiful payments of the Almighty ! Who ever came under his wing in vain ? Who ever lost by trusting him ? Who ever forsook the Moab of this world for the true Israel, and did not at last rejoice in the change f Ruth ii^ jV.
HANNAH AND PENINNAH.
Ill customs, where they ai"e once entertained, are not easily dis- charged. Polygamy, besides carnal delight, might now plead age and example ; so as even Elkanah, though a Levite, is tainted with the sin of* Lamech : like as fashions of attire, which at the first were disliked as uncomely, yet when they are once grown com- mon are taken up of the gravest.
Yet this sin, as then current with the time, could not make El- kanah not religious. The house of God in Shiloh was duly fre- quented of him ; often tunes, alone, in his ordinary course of at- tendance ; with all his males, thrice a year ; and once a year, with all his family. The continuance of an unknown sin cannot hinder the uprightness of a man's heart with God ; as a man may have a mole upon his back, and yet think his skin clear: the least touch of knowledge or wilfulness mars his sincerity.
He, that by virtue of his place was employed about the sacri-
HANNAH AND PENINNAH. 25T
ficcs of others, would much less neglect his own. It is a shame for him, that teaches God's people that they should not appear before the Lord empty, to bring no sacrifice for himself. If Le- vites be profane, who should be religious ?
It was the fashion, when they sacrificed, to feast; so did Elka- nah. The day of his devotion is the day of his triumph: he makes great cheer for his whole family, even for that wife which he loved less. There is nothing more comely, than cheerfulness in the services of God. What is there in all the world, where- with the heart of man should be so lifted up, as with the conscience of his duty done to his Maker ? While we do so, God doth to us as our glass, smile upon us, while we smile on him.
Love will be seen by entertainment : Peninnah and her children shall not complain of want, but Hannah shall find her husband's affection in her portion : as his love to her was double, so was her part.
She fared not the worse, because she was childless : no good husband will dislike his wife, for a fault out of the power of her redress ; yea, rather, that, which might seem to lose the love of her husband, wins it, her barrenness. The good-nature of Elkanah laboured by his dear respects to recompense this affliction, that so she might find no less contentment in the fruit of his hearty love, than she had grief from her own fruitlessness. It is the pro- perty of true mercy, to be most favourable to the weakest : thus doth the gracious spouse of the Christian soul pity the barrenness of his servants. O Saviour, we should not find thee so indulgent to us, if we did not complain of our own unworthiness. Peninnah may have the more children, but barren Hannah hath the most love. How much rather could Elkanah have wished Peninnah barren, and Hannah fruitful ? but if she should have had both issue and love, she had been proud, and her rival despised. God knows how to disperse his favours so, that every one may have cause both of thankfulness and humiliation ; while there is no one tiiat hath all, no one but hath some. If envy and contempt were not thus equally tempered, some would be over haughty and others too miserable ; but now, every man sees that in himself which is worthy of contempt, and matter of emulation in others ; and con- trarily, sees what to pity and dislike in the most eminent, and what to applaud in himself; and out of this contrariety, arises a sweet mean of contentation.
The love of Elkanah is so unable to free Hannah from the wrongs of her rival, that it procures them rather. The iinfruitfulness of Hannah had never with so much despite been laid in her disii, if her husband's heart had been as barren of love to her. Envy, though it take advantage of our weaknesses, yet is ever raised upon some grounds of happiness in them whom it emulates : it is ever an ill effect of a good cause. If Abel's sacrifice had not been accepted, and if the acceptation of his sacrifice had not been a blessing, no envy had followed upon it.
There is no evil of another, wherein it is fit to rejoice, but his vol. i. s
25S
CONTEMPLATION?.
envy ; and tins is worthy of our joy and thankfulness, because it shews us the price of that good, which we had and valued not. The malignity of envy is thus well answered, when it is made the evil cause of a good effect to us ; when God and our souls may gain by another's sin. I do not find that Hannah insulted upon Peninnah, for the greater measure of her husband's love, as Peflin- nah did upon her, for her fruitfulness. Those, that are truly gra- cious, know how to receive the blessings of God, without contempt of them that want ; and have learned to be thankful, without over- liness.
Envy, when it is once conceived in a malicious heart, is like fire in billets of juniper, which, they sav, continues more years than one. Every year was Hannah thus vexed witli her emulous part- ner, and troubled both in her prayers and meals. Amidst all their feastings, she fed on nothing but tears. Some dispositions are less sensible, and more careless of the despite and injuries of others, and can turn over unkind usages with contempt. By how much more tender the heai't is, so much more deeply is it ever affected with discourtesies : as wax receives and retains that impression, which in the hard clay cannot be seen ; or as the eye feels that mote, which the skin of the eye-lid could not complain of.
Yet the husband of Hannah, as one that knew his duty, labours by his love, to comfort her against these discontentments ; Jl hy -deepest thou ? Am not I better to thee than ten sons ? It is the weakness of good natures, to give so much advantage to an ene- my : what would malice rather have, than the vexation of them whom it persecutes ? We cannot better please an adversary, than by hurting ourselves : this is no other than to humour envy, to serve the turn of those that malign us, and to draw on that malice whereof we are weary ; whereas carelessness puts ill-will out ot countenance, and makes it withdraw itself in a rage, as that which doth but shame the author, without the hurt of the patient. Iu causeless wrongs, the best remedy is contempt.
She, that could not find comfort in the loving persuasions of her husband, seeks it in her prayers : she rises up hungry from the feast, and hies her to the temple ; there she pours out her tears and supplications. Whatsoever the complaint be, here is the remedy. There is one universal receipt for all evils, prayer: when all helps fail us, this remains ; and while we have a heart, comforts it.
Here was not more bitterness in the soul of Hannah, than fer- vency: she did not only weep and pray, but vow unto God. If God will give her a son, she will give her son to God back again. Even nature itself had consecrated her son to God ; for he could not but be born a Levite : but if his birth make him a Levite, her vow shall make him a Nazarite, and dedicate his minority to the tabernacle. The way to obtain any benefit, is, to devote it in our hearts, to the glory of that God of whom we ask it: by this means, shall God both pleasure his servant and honour himself ; whereas, if the scope of our desires be carnal, we may be sure, either to fail of our suit, or of a. blessing. 1 Sam. I.
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Old Eli sits on a stool, by one of the posts of the tabernacle : where should the priests of God be, but in the temple ; whether for action or oversight ? Their very presence keeps God's house in order ; and the presence of God keeps their hearts in order.
It is often found, that those, which arc themselves conscionable, arc too forward to the censuring of others : good Eh, because he marks the lips of Hannah to move without noise, chicles her as drunken ; and uncharitably misconstrues her devotion. It was a weak ground whereon to build so heavy a sentence. If she had spoken too loud, and incomposedly, he might have had some just colour for his conceit ; but now to accuse her silence, notwith- standing all her tears which he saw, of drunkenness, it was a zea- lous breach of charity.
Some spirits would have been enraged with so rash a censure : when anger meets with grief, both turn into fury ; but this good woman bad been inured to reproaches, and besides, did well see the reproof arose from misprision, and the misprision from zeal ; and therefore answers meekly, as one that would rather satisfy than expostulate ; Nay, my L >rdt but I am a woman troubled in spirit.
Eli may now learn charity of Hannah : if she had been in that distemper whereof he accused her, his just reproof had not been so easily digested : guiltiness is commonly clamorous and impa- tient, whereas innocence is silent, and careless of mis-reports. It is natural to all men, to wipe off from their, name all aspersions of evil ; but none do it with such violence, as they which are faulty. It is a sign the horse is galled, that stirs too much when he is touched.
She, that was censured for drunken, censures drunkenness more deeply than her reprover ; Count not thine hand-maid for a daugh- ter of Belial. The drunkard's style begins in lawlessness, proceeds in unprofitableness, ends in miserv ; and all shut up in the deno- mination of this pedigree, A son of Belial.
If Hannah had been tainted with this sin, she would have denied it with more favour, and have disclaimed it with an extenuation ; " What if I should have been merry with wine ? yet I might be devout : if I should have overjoyed in my sacrifice to God, one cup of excess had not been so heinous :" now her freedom is seen in her severity. Those, which have clear hearts from any sin, prosecute it with rigour ; whereas the guilty are ever partial : their conscience holds their hand, and tells them that they beat them- selves while they punish others.
Now Eli sees his error, and recants it ; and, to make amends for his rash censure, prays for her. Even the best may err, but not persist in it : when good natures have offended, they are unquiet, till they have hastened satisfaction. This was within his office, to pray for the distressed : wherefore serves the priest, but to sacri- fice lor the people ? and the best sacrifices are the prayers of faith.
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She, that began her prayers with fasting and heaviness, rises up from them with cheerfulness and repast. It cannot be spoken, how much ease and joy the heart of man finds in having unloaded his cares, and poured out his supplications into the ears of God ; since it is well assured, that the suit which is faithfully asked is already granted in heaven. The conscience may well rest, when it tells us, that we have neglected no means of redressing our affliction ; for then it may resolve to look, either for amendment or patience.
The sacrifice is ended ; and now Elkanah and his family rise up early to return unto Ramah : but they dare not set forward, till they have worshipped before the Lord. That journey cannot hope to prosper, that takes not God with it. The way to receive blessings at home is, to be devout at the temple.
She, that before conceived faith in her heart, now conceives a son in her womb : God will rather work miracles, than faithful prayers shall return empty. I do not find that Peninnah asked any son of God, yet she had store ; Hannah begged hard for this one, and could not till now obtain him. The}-, which are dearest to God, do oft-times with great difficulty work out those blessings, which fall into the mouths of the careless. That wise disposer of all things knows it fit to hold us short of those favours, which we sue for ; whether for the trial of our patience, or the exercise of our faith, or the increase of our importunity, or the doubling of our obligation.
Those children are most like to prove blessings, which the pa- rents have begged of God ; and which are no less the fruit of our supplications, than of our body. As this child was the son of his mother's prayers, and was consecrated to God ere his possibility of being ; so now himself shall know, both how he came and whereto he was ordained ; and lest he should forget it, his very name shall teach him both ; She called his vame Samuel, He can- not so much as hear himself named, but he must needs remember, both the extraordinary mercy of God, in giving him to a barren mother ; and the vow of his mother, in restoring him back to God by her zealous dedication ; and by both of them learn holiness and obedience. There is no necessity of significant names ; but we cannot have too many monitors to put us in mind of our duty.
It is wont to be the father's privilege, to name his child ; but, because this was his mother's son, begotten more by her prayers than the seed of Elkanah, it was but reason, that she should have the chief hand, both in his name and disposing. It had been in- deed in the power of Elkanah, to have changed both his name and profession, and abrogate the vow of his wife; that wives might know, they were not their own ; and that the rib might learn to know the head : but husbands shall abuse their authority, if they shall wilfully cross the holy purposes and religious endeavours of their yoke-fellows. How much more fit is it for them, to cherish all good desires in the weaker vessels ! and as we use, when we carry a small light in a wind, to hide it with our lap or hand, that it may not go out. If the wife be a vine, the husband should be
ELI AND HANNAH. • 26!
an elm to uphold her in all worthy enterprises ; else she falls to the ground, and proves fruitless.
The year is now come about ; and Elkanah calls his family to their holy journey, to go up to Jerusalem, for the anniversary so- lemnity of their sacrifice. Hannah's heart is with them ; but she hath a good excuse to stay at home, the charge of her Samuel. Her success in the temple keeps her happily from the temple ; that her devotion may be doubled, because it was respited. God knows how to dispense with necessities ; but if we surfer idle and needless occasions to hold us from the tabernacle of God, our hearts are but hollow to religion.
Now, at last, when the child was weaned from her hand, she goes up and pays her vow ; and, with it pays the interest of her intermission. Never did Hannah go up with so glad a heart to Shiloh, as now that she carries God this reasonable present, which himself gave to her, and she vowed to him ; accompanied with the bounty of other sacrifices, more in number and measure than the law of God required of her ; and all this is too little for her God, that so mercifully remembered her affliction and miraculously remedied it. Those hearts, which are truly thankful, do no less rejoice in their repayment, than in their receipt ; and do as much study, how to shew their humble and fervent affections, for what they have, as how to compass favours when they want them : their debt is their burthen, which when they have discharged, they are at ease.
If Hannah had repented of her vow, and not presented her son to the tabernacle, Eli could not have challenged him. He had only seen her lips stir, not hearing the promise of her heart. It was enough, that her own soul knew her vow, and God which was greater than it. The obligation of a secret vow is no less, than if it had ten thousand witnesses.
Old Eli could not chuse but much rejoice, to see this fruit of those lips, which he thought moved with wine ; and this good proof, both of the merciful audience of God, and the thankful fidelitv of his handmaid. This sight calls him down to his knees ; he wor- shipped the Lord. We are unprofitable w itnesses of the mercies of God and the graces of men, if we do not glorify him for others' sakes, no less than for our own.
I'.ii and Hannah grew now better acquainted : neither hcA he so much cause to praise God for her, as she afterwards for him ; for if her own prayers obtained her first child, his blessing enriched her with five more. If she had not given her first son to God ere She bad him, I doubt whether she had not been ever barren; or if she had kept her Samuel at home, whether*ever she had conceived again : now, that piety, which stripped her of her only child for the service of her God, hath multiplied the fruit of her womb, and gave her five for that one ; which was still no less hers, be- cause he was God's. There is no so certain way of increase, as to lend or give unto the owner of all things. 1 Sam. i.
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ELI AND HIS SONS. If the conveyance of grace were natural, holy parents w ould not be so ill suited with children. What good man would not rather wish his loins dry, than fruitful of wickedness ? Now, wo can nei- ther traduce goodness, nor chuse but traduce sin. If virtue were as well entailed upon us as sin, one might serve to check the other in our children ; but now, since grace is derived from heaven on whomsoever it pleases the Giver, and that evil which ours receive hereditarily from us is multiplied by their own corruption, it can be no wonder, that good men have ill children ; it is rather a won- der, that any children are not evil.
The sons of Eli are as lewd, as himself was holy. If the good- ness of examples, precepts, education, profession, could have been preservatives from extremity of sin, these sons of a holy father had not been wicked ; now, neither parentage, nor breeding, nor priesthood, can keep the sons of Eli from the sons of Belial. If our children be good, let us thank God for it ; this was more than we could give them : if evil, they may thank us and themselves ; us, for their birth-sin ; themselves, for the improvement of it to that height of wickedness.
If they had not been sons of Eli, yet being priests of God, who would not have hoped their very calling should have infused some holiness into them ? But now even their white ephod covers our foul sins : yea rather, if they which serve at the altar degenerate, then- wickedness is so much more above others as their places are Holier* A wicked priest is the worst creature upon earth. Who are devils, but they which were once angels of light ? Who can stum- ble at the sins of the evangelical Levites, that sees such impurity before the ark of God ?
That God, which promised to be the Levites' portion, had set forth the portion of his ministers. He will feast thein at his own altar: the breast and the right shoulder of the peace-offering was their morsel. These bold and covetous priests will rather have the flesh-hook their arbiter, than God : whatsoever those three teeth fasten upon shall be for their tooth. They were weary of one joint; and now their delicacy affects variety. God is not wor- th}- to carve for these men, but their own hands ; and this they do not receive, but take ; and take violently, unseasonably. It had been fit, God should be first served : their presumption will not stay his leisure : ere the fat be burned, ere the flesh be boiled, they snatch more than their share from the altar ; as if the God of hea- ven should wait on their palate ; as if the Israelites had come thither to sacrifice to their bellies : and, as commonly a wanton tooth is the harbinger to luxurious wantonness, they are no sooner fed, than they neigh after the dames of Israel. Holy women assemble to the door of the tabernacle: these varlets tempt them to lust, that came thither for devotion : they had wives of their own, yet their unbridled desires rove after strangers, and fear not to pollute even that holy place with abominable filthiness.
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Oli sins, too shameful for men ; much more for the spiritual guides of Israel ! He, that makes himself a servant to his tooth, shall easily become a slave to all inordinate affections. That ark, which expiated other men's sins, added to the sins of the sacrificers : doubtless, many a soul was the cleaner for the blood of the sacri- fices which they shed, while their own were more impure ; and as the altar cannot sanctify the priest, so the uncleanness of the mi- nister cannot pollute the offering ; because the virtue thereof is not in the agent, but in the institution : in the representation, his sin is his own ; the comfort of the sacrament is from God. Our clergy is no charter for heaven. Even those, whose trade is devotion, may at once shew the way to heaven by their tongue, and by their foot lead the way to hell. It is neither a cowl, nor an ephod, that can privilege the soul.
The sin of these men was worthy of contempt, yea, perhaps, their persons ; but for the people therefore to abhor the offerings of the Lord, was to add their evil unto the priests', and to offend God because he was offended. There can no offence be justly taken, even at men ; much less at God, for the sake of men. No man's sins should bring the service of God into dislike: this is to make holy tilings guilty of our profaneness. It is a dangerous ig- norance, not to distinguish betwixt the work and the instrument: whereupon it often comes to pass, that we fall out with God be- cause we find cause of offence from men ; and give God just cause to abhor us, because we abhor his service unjustly.
Although it be true, of great men especially, that they are the last that know the evils of their own house, yet either it could not be, when all Israel rung of the lewdness of Eli's sons, that he only should not know it ; or if he knew it not, his ignorance cannot be excused ; for a seasonable restraint might have prevented this ex- tremity of debauchedness. Complaints are long muttered of the great, ere they dare break forth to open contestation: public ac- cusations of authority, argue intolerable extremities of evil.
Nothing but age can plead for Eli, that he was not the first ac- cuser of his sons ; now, when their enormities came to be the voice of the multitude, he must hear it perforce ; and doubtless, he heard it with grief enough, but not with anger enough. He, that was the judge of Israel, should have impartially judged his own flesh and blood : never could he have offered a more pleasing sacrifice, than the depraved blood of so wicked sons. In vain do we rebuke those sins abroad, which we tolerate at home. That man makes hunself but ridiculous, that, leaving his own house on fire, runs to quench his neighbour's. -
I heard Eli sharp enough to Hannah, upon but a suspicion of •sin ; and now, how mild I find him to the notorious crimes of his own ! W/iij do you so, my sons ? It is no good report ; my sons, do no more so; the case is altered with the persons. If nature may be allowed to speak in judgment, and to make difference, not of sins but offenders, the sentence must needs savour of partiality. Had these men but some little slackened their duty, or heedlessly
264 CONTEMPLATIONS.
omitted some rite of the sacrifice, this censure had not been unfit ;
but to punish the thefts, rapines, sacrileges, adulteries, incests of his sons, with Why do ye so ? was no other than to shave that head, which had deserved cutting off. As it is with ill humours, that a weak dose doth but stir and anger them, not purge them out ; so it fareth with sins : an easy reproof doth but encourage wicked- ness, and makes it think itself so slight, as that censure importeth. A vehement rebuke to a capital evil, is but like a strong shower to a ripe field, which lays that corn which were worthy of a sickle. It is u breach of justice, not to proportionate the punishment to the offence: to whip a man for a murder, or to punish the purse for incest, or to burn treason in the hand, or to award the stocks to burglary, it is to patronize evil, instead of avenging it : of the two extremes, rigour is more safe for the public weal ; because the over-punishing of one offender frights many from sinning. It is better to live in a commonwealth where nothing is lawful, than where every thing.
Indulgent parents are cruel to themselves and their posterity. Eli could not have devised which way to have plagued himself and his house so much, as by his kindness to his children's sins. What variety of judgments doth he now hear of from the messen- ger of God ! First, because his old age, which uses to be subject to choler , inclined now to misfavour his sons, therefore there shall not be an old man left of his house for ever ; and, because it vexed him not enough to see his sons enemies to God in their profession, therefore he shall see his enemy in the habitation of the Lord ; and, because himself forbore to take vengeance of his sons, and esteemed the'r life above the glory of his Master, therefore God will revenge himself, by killing them both in one day; and, be- cause he abused his sovereignty by connivance at sin, therefore shall his house be stripped of this honour, and see it translated to another; and lastly, because he suffered his sons to please their own wanton appetite, in taking meat oft* from God's trencher, therefore those which remain of his house shall come to his suc- cessors, to beg a piece of silver and a morsel of bread : in a word, because he was partial to his sons, God shall execute all this se- vere]}- upon him and them. I do not read of any fault Eli had, but indulgence ; and which of the notorious offenders were plagued more ? Barents need no other means to make them miserable, than sparing the rod.
Who should be the bearer of these fearful tidings to Eli, but young Samuel, whom himself had trained up ? He was now grown p ist ; i' mother's coats ; fit for the message of God. Old Eli re- buked not bis young sons, therefore young Samuel is sent to rebuke him • marvel not, while the priesthood was so corrupted, if the f God were precious ; if there were no public vision. It is n tb< manner of God, to grace the unworthy. The ordinary ministration in the temple was too much honour for those that r ibb'ed the altar, though they had no extraordinary revelations. Hereupon it was, that God lets old Eli sleep (who slept in his sin),
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and awakes Samuel, to tell him what he would do with his master. He, which was wont to be the mouth of God to the people, must now receive the message of God from the mouth of another ; as great persons will not speak to those with whom they are highly offended, hut send them their checks by others.
The limits of the temple were now dim, and almost ready to give place to the morning, when God called Samuel ; to signify, perhaps, that those, which should have been the lights of Israel, burned no less dimly, and were near their going out, and should be succeeded with one so much more lightsome than they as the sun was more bright than the lamps.
God had good leisure to have delivered this message by day ; but he meant to make use of Samuel's mistaking ; and therefore so speaks, that Eli may be asked for an answer, and perceive him- self both omitted and censured. He, that meant to use Samuel's voice to Eli, imitates the voice of Eli to Samuel. Samuel had so accustomed himself to obedience, and to answer the call of Eli, that, lying in the further cells of the Levites, he is easily raised from his sleep ; and even in the night runs for his message to him, who was rather to receive it from him. Thrice is the old man dis- quieted with the diligence of his servant ; and, though visions were rare in his days, yet is he not so unacquainted with God, as not to attribute that voice to him, which himself heard not : wherefore, like a hetter tutor than a parent, he teaches Samuel what he shall answer ; Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.
It migfat have pleased God, at the first call to have delivered his message to Samuel, not expecting the answer of a novice unseen in the visions of a God ; yet doth he rather defer it till the fourth summons, and will not speak till Samuel confessed his audience. God loves ever to prepare his servants for his employments ; and will not commit his errands, but to those, whom he addresseth both by wonder, and attention, and humility.
Eli knew well the gracious fashion of God, that, where he in- tended a favour, prorogation could be no hindrance ; and there- fore, after the call of God thrice answered with silence, he instructs Samuel to be ready for the fourth. If Samuel's silence had been wilful, I doubt whether he had been again solicited ; now God doth both pity his error and requite his diligence, by redoubling his name at last.
Samuel had now many years ministered before the Lord, but never till now heard his voice, and now hears it with much terror ; for, the first word that he hears God speak, is threatening, and that of vengeance to his master. What were these menaces, but so many premonitions to himself, that should succeed Eii ? God begins early to season their hearts with fear, whom he means to make eminent instruments of his glory. It is his mercy, to make us witnesses of the judgments of others, that we may be fore- warned, ere we have the occasions of sinning.
I do not hear God bid Samuel deliver his message to Eli. He, that was but now made a prophet, knows that the errands of God
266 CONTEMPLATIONS.
intend not silence ; and that God would not have spoken to him of another, if he had meant the news should he reserved to himself. Neither yet did he run with open mouth unto Eli, to tell him this vision unasked : no wise man will be hasty to bring- ill tidings to the great ; rather doth he stay, till the importunity of his master should wring it from his unwillingness; and then, as his concealment shewed his love, so his full relation shall approve his fidelity.
If the heart of Eli had not told him this news, before God told it. Samuel, he had never been so instant with Samuel, not no conceal it ; his conscience did well presage that it concerned himself : guil- tiness needs no prophet, to assure it of punishment. The mind that is troubled projecteth terrible things ; and though it cannot single out the judgment allotted to it, yet it is in a confused expectation of some grievous evil. Surely, Eli could not think it worse than itwas.
The sentence was fearful; and such as I wonder the neck or the heart of 'old Eli could hold out the report of ; that God swears he will judge Eli's house, and that with beggary, with death, with desolation, and that the wickedness of his house shall not be purged with sacrifice or offerings for ever: and yet this, which every Isra- elite's ear should tingle to hear of when it should be done, old Eli hears with an unmoved patience and humble submission, It is the Lord ; let him do what seemeth him good.
Oh admirable faith, and more than human constancy and resolu- tion ; worthy of the aged president of Shilofa ; worthy of a heart sacrificed to that God, whose justice had refused to expiate his sin by sacrifice ! If EL' have been an ill father to his sons, yet he is a good son to God, and is readv to kiss the very rod he shall smart withal. " It is the Lord whom I have ever found holv, and just, and religious; and he cannot but be himself. Let him do what seemeth him good ; for whatever seemeth good to him cannot but be good, howsoever it seems tome." Every man can open his hand to God, while he blesses ; but to expose ourselves willingly to the afflicting hand of our Maker, and to kneel to him while he scourges us, is peculiar only to the faithful.
If ever a good heart could have freed a man from temporal pu- nishments, Eli must needs have escaped. God's anger was appeased by his humble repentance, but his justice must be satisfied : Eli's sin and his sons' was in the eve and mouth of all Israel; his there- fore should have been much wronged by their impunity. Who would not have made these spiritual guides an example of lawless- ness ; and have said, " What care I how I live, if Eli's sons go away unpunished ?"
As not the tears of Eli, so not the words of Samuel may fall to the ground. We may not measure the displeasure of God by his stripes : many times, after the remission of the sin, the very chas- tisements of the Almighty are deadly. No repentance can assure us, that we shall not smart with outward afflictions : that can pre- vent the eternal displeasure of God, but still it may be necessary and good we should be corrected. Our care and suit must be, that the evils which shall not be averted may be sanctified.
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If the prediction of these evils were fearful, what shall the execu- tion be? the presumption of the ill-taught Israelites shall give oc-i casion to this judgment ; for being smitten before the Philistines, they send for the ark into the field. Who gave them authority to command the ark of God at their pleasure ? Here was no consulting with the ark, w hich they would fetch ; no inquiry of Samuel, whe- ther they should fetch it ; but a heady resolution of presumptuous elders, to force God into the field, and to challenge success. If God were not with the ark, why did they send for it, and rejoice in the coming of it ? If God were with it, why was not his allowance asked, that it should come ? How can the people be good, where the priests are wicked ?
When the ark of the covenant of the Lord of Hosts that dwells between the cherubims, was brought into the host, though with mean and wicked attendance, Isi-aeldoth, as it were, fill the heaven and shake the earth with shouts ; as if the ark and victory were no less inseparable, than they and their sins. Even the lewdest men will be looking for favour from that God, whom they cared not to displease, contrary to the conscience of their deservings. Presump- tion doth the same in w icked men, which faith doth in the holiest. Those, that regarded not the God of the ark, think themselves safe and happy in the ark of God : vain men are transported with a con- fidence in the outside of religion, not regarding the substance and soul of it, which only can give them true peace.
But rather than God wilt humour superstition in Israelites, he will suffer his ow n ark to fall into the hands of Philistines : rather will he seem to slacken his hand of protection, than he will be thought to have his hands bound by a formal misconfidence. The slaughter of the Israelites was no plague to this. It was a greater plague ra- ther, to them that should survive and behold it.
The tw o sons of Eli, which had helped to corrupt their brethren, die by the hands of the uneircumcised ; and are now too late sepa- rated from the ark of God by Philistines, which should have been before separated by their father. They had lived formerly to bring God's altar into contempt, and now live to carry his ark into cap- tivity ; and at last, as those, that had made up the measure of their wickedness, are slain in their sin.
Ill news doth ever either run or fly. The man of Benjamin, which ran from the host, hath soon filled the city with outcries, and Eli's ears with the cry of the city. The good old man, after ninety and eight years, sits in the gate, as one that never thought himself too aged to do God service ; and hears the news of Israel's discomfiture and his son's death, though w ith sorrow, yet with pa- tience ; but when the messenger tells him of the ark of God taken, he can live no longer: that word strikes him down backward from his throne, and kills him in the fall : no sword of a Philistine could have slain him more painfully ; neither know I whether his neck or his heart were first broken.
Oh fearful judgment, that ever any Israelite's ear could tingle withal! The ark lost! What good man would wish to live without
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God ? Who can choose but think lie hath lived too long, that hath Dyer-lived the testimonies of God's presence with his Church ?
Yea, the very daughter-in-law of Eli, a woman, the wife of a lewd husband; when she was at once travailing (upon that tidings), and in that travail dying (to make up the full sum of God's judg- ment upon that wicked house), as one insensible of the death of her father, of her husband, of herself, in comparison of this loss, calls her (then unseasonable) son Ichabod ; and with her last breath, says, The glory is departed from Israel ; the ark is taken. What cares she for a posterity, which should want the ark ? What cares she for a son come into the world of Israel, when God was gone from it ? And how willingly doth she depart from them, from whom God was departed ! Not outward magnificence, not state, not wealth, not favour of the mighty, but the presence of God in his ordinances, is the glory of Israel ; the subducing whereof is a greater judgment than destruction.
Oh Israel, worse now than no people ! a thousand times more miserable than Philistines : those pagans went away triumphing with the ark of God, and victory ; and leave the remnants of the chosen people to lament, that they once had a God.
Oh cruel and wicked indulgence, that is now found guilty of the death, not only of the priests and people, but of religion ! Unjust mercy can never end in less than blood ; and it were well, if only the body should have cause to complain of that kind cruelty.
I Sum. ii} iii} iv.
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XII.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,
THE LORD HAY,
J5ARON OF SALEY, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.
RIGHT HONOURABLE :
ON how just reason these my Contemplations go forth so late after their fell<m>s,it were needless to give account to your Lordship, in whose train I had the honour, since my last, to pass both the Sea. and the Tweed. All my private studies have gladly vailed to the public services of my sovereign master. No sooner could I recover the happiness of my quiet thoughts, than I renewed this my divine task ; wherein I cannot but profess to place so much contentment, as that I wish not any other measure of my life than it. What is this, other than the exaltation of Isaac's delight, to walk forth into the pleasant fields of the Scriptures, and to meditate of nothing under heaven ? Yea, what other than Jacob's sweet vision of angels, climb- ing up and down that sacred ladder, which God hath set between heaven and earth f Yea, to rise yet higher, what other than an imi- tation of holy Moses, in his conversing with God himself, on the Jloreb of both Testaments? And if I may call your Lordship forth a little from your great affairs of court and state, to bless your eyes with this prospect, how happy shall you confess this change, of objects ! and how unwillingly shall you obtain leave of your thoughts, tore- turn unto these sublunary employments !
Our last discourse left God's ark amongst the Philistines ; now we return to see what it doth there, and to fetch it thence : wherein your Lordship shall find the revenges of God never so deadly, as when he gives most way unto men; the vain confidence of wickedness ending in a late repentance ; the fearful plagues of a presumptuous saueu ness with God, not prevented with the honesty of good intentions ; the mercy of God accepting the services of an humble faithfulness in a meaner dress. From thence you shall see the dangerous issue of an affected innovation, although to the better ; the errors of credu- lity and blind affection in the holiest governors, guilty of the people's discontentment ; the stubborn headiness of a multitude that once finds the reins slack in their necks, not capable of any pause, but their own fall ; the untrusty promises of a fair outside, and a plausible entrance, shutting up in, a woeful disappointment. What do I fore-
270 CONTEMPLATIONS.
stall a discourse so full of choice f Your Lordship shall find every line useful; and shall willingly confess that the story of God can make a man not less wise than good.
Mine humble than/fulness knows not how to express itself other- wise, than in these kind of presents, and in my hearty prayers for the increase of your honour and happiness, which shall never be wanting from
Your Lordship's sincerely and
thankfully devoted,
JOSEPH HALL.
THE ARK AND DAG ON.
If men did not mistake God, they could not arise to such height of impiety. The acts of his just judgment arc imputed to impo- tence: that God Would send his ark captive to the Philistines, is so construed bv them, as if he could not keep it. The wife of Phi- neas cried out, that glory was departed from Israel; the Philistines dare say in triumph, that glory is departed from the God of Israel.
The ark was not Israel's, but God's: this victory reaches higher than to men. Dagon had never so great a (.lay, so many sacrifices, as now, that lie seems to take the God of Israel prisoner : where should the captive be bestowed, but in custody of the victor ? It is not love, but insult, that lodges the ark close beside Dagon. What a spectacle was this, to see un circumcised Philistines laying their profane hands upon the testimony of God's presence ! to see the glorious mercy-seat under the roof of an idol ! to see the two cherubims spreading their wings under a false god !
Oh the deep and holy wisdom of the Almighty, which over- reaches all the finite conceits of his creatures; who, while he seems most to neglect himself, fetches about most glory to his own name. He winks and sits still on purpose, to see what men would do, and is content to suffer indignity from his creature for a time, that lie may be everlastingly magnified in his justice and power : that ho- nour pleascth God and men best, which is raised out of contempt.
The ark of God was not used to such porters. The Philistines carry it unto Ashdod, that the victory of Dagon may be more glo- rious. What pains superstition puts men unto, for the triumph of a false cause ! And if profane Philistines can think it no toil to carry the ark where they should not, what a shame is it for us, if we do not gladly attend it where we should ! I low justly may God's truth scorn the imparity of our zeal !
If the Israelites did put confidence in the ark, can we marvel that the Philistines did put confidence in that power, which, as they thought, had conquered the ark r The less is ever subject unto the greater : whal cuukl they now think, but that heaven and earth were
THE ARK AND DAGON. 271
theirs? Who shall stand out against them, when the God of Israel hath yielded ? Security and presumption attend ever at the threshold of ruin.
God will let them sleep in this confidence ; in the morning they shall find how vainly they have dreamed. Now they begin to find they have but gloried in their own plague, and overthrown nothing but their own peace. Dagon hath a house:, when God hath but a tabernacle : it is no measuring of religion by outward glory. Into this house the proud Philistines come, the next morning,, to congratulate unto their god, so great a captive, such divine spoils; and in their early devotions, to fall down before him, under whom the God of Israel was fallen; and lo, where they find their god, fallen down on the ground upon his face, before whom they thought both his prisoner and theirs : their god is forced to do that, which they should have done voluntarily ; although God cast down that dumb rival of his for scorn, not for adoration. O ye foolish Philistines, could ve think that the same house could hold God and Dagon ? Could ye think a senseless stone a fit companion and guardian for the livingGod ? Had ye laid your Dagon upon his face prostrate before the ark, vet would not God have endured the indignity of such a lodging; but now that ye presume to set up your carved stone, equal to his cberubims, go read your folly in the floor of your temple, and know that he, which cast your god so low, can cast you lower.
The true God owes a shame to those, which will be making matches betwixt himself and Belial.
But this perhaps was only a mischance, or a neglect of attend- ance ; lay 10 your hands, O ye Philistines, and raise up Dagon into his place; It is a miserable god that needs helping up : had ye not been more senseless than that stone, how could you choose but ti link, " How shall he raise us above our enemies, that cannot rise alone ? How shall he establish us in the station of our peace, that cannot hold his own foot? If Dagon did give the foil unto the God of Israel, what power is it, that hath cast him upon his face, in his own temple ?," , It is just with God, that those which want grace shall want wit too : it is the power of superstition, to turn men into those stocks and stones which they worship : They that make them, are like unto them.
Doubtless, this first fall of Dagon was kept as secret, and ex- cused as well as it might, and served rather for astonishment than conviction. There was more strangeness than horror in that acci- dent ; that whereas Dagon had wont to stand and the Philistines fall down, now Dagon fell down and the Philistines stood, and must become the patrons of their own god. Their god worships them upon his face, and craves more help from them, than ever he could give : but if their sottishness can digest thisj all is well.
Dagon is set in his place ; and now those hands are lift up to him, which helped to lift him up ; and tliose faces are prostrate unto him, before whom he lay prostrate. Idolatry and superstition are not easily put out of countenance ; but will the jealousy of the
272 CONTEMPLATIONS.
true God put it up thus ? Shall Dagon escape with a harmless fall ? Surely, if they had let him lie still upon the pavement, perhaps that insensible statue had found no other revenge ; but now, they will be advancing it to the rood-loft again, and affront God's ark with it, the event will shame them, and let them know how much God scorns a partner, either of his own making or theirs.
The morning is fittest for devotion ; then do the Philistines flock to the temple of their god. What a shame is it for us to come late to ours ! Although not so much piety as curiosity did now hasten their speed, to see what rest their Dagon was allowed to get in his own roof; and now behold their kind god is come to meet them in the way : some pieces of him salute their eyes upon the threshold. Dagon's head and hands over-run their fellows, to tell the Philistines how much they were mistaken in a god.
This second fall breaks the idol in pieces, and threats the same confusion to the worshippers of it. Lasy warnings neglected end ever in destruction.
The head is for devising, the hand for execution : in these two powers of their god, did the Philistines chiefly trust ; these are therefore laid under their feet, upon the threshold, that they might afar off see their vanity, and that, if they would, they might set their foot on that best piece of their god, whereon their heart was set.
There was nothing wherein that idol resembled a man, but in his head and hands ; the rest was but a scaly portraiture of a fish ; God would therefore separate from this stone, that part which had mocked man, with the counterfeit of himself, that man might see what an unworthy lump he had matched with himself, and set up above himself. The just quarrel of God is bent upon those means and that parcel, which have dared to rob him of his glory.
How can the Philistines now miss the sight of their own folly ? How can they be but enough convicted of their mad idolatry, to see their god lie broken to morsels, under their feet ; every piece whereof proclaims the power of him that brake it, and the stupi- dity of those that adored it ? Who would expect any other issue of this act, but to hear the Philistines say, " We now see how su- perstition hath blinded us: — Dagon is no god for us; our hearts shall never more rest upon a broken statue : that only true God, which hath beaten ours, shall challenge us by the right of conquest." < — But here was none of this ; rather a further degree of their dotage follows upon this palpable conviction : they cannot yet suspect that god whose head they may trample upon ; but, instead of hating their Dagon, that lay broken upon their threshold, they honour the threshold, on which Dagon lay, and dare not set their foot on that place which was hallowed by the broken head and hands of their deity. Oh the obstinacy of idolatry ; which, where it hath got hold of the heart, knows neither to blush nor yield, but rather ga- thers strength from that which might justly confound it!
The hand of the Almighty, which moved them not in falling upon their god, falls now nearer them upon their persons, ana
THE ARK AND DAGON. 273
strikes them in their bodies, which would not feel themselves stricken in their idol. Pain shall humble them whom shame can- not. Those, which had entertained the secret thoughts of abomi- nable idolatry within them, are now plagued in the inwardest and mosf secret part of their bodies, with a loathsome disease ; and now grow weary of themselves, instead of their idolatry.
I do not hear them acknowledge it was God's hand which had stricken Dagon their god, till now, they find themselves stricken. God's judgments are the rack of godless men: if one strain make them not confess, let them be stretched but one wrench higher, and they cannot be silent. The just avenger of sin will not lose the glory of his executions, but will have men know from whom they smart.
The emerods were not a disease beyond the compass of natural causes ; neither was it hard for the wiser sort, to give a reason of their complaint, yet they ascribe it to the hand of God. The knowledge and operation of secondary causes should be no pre- judice to the first : they are worse than the Philistines, who, when they see the means, do not acknowledge the first Mover ; whose active and just power is no less seen in employing ordinary agents, than in raising up extraordinary; neither doth he less smite by a common fever, than a revenging angel.
They judge right of the cause ; what do they resolve for the cure ? Let not the ark of the God of Israel abide with us ; where they should have said, " Let us cast out Dagon, that we may pa- cify and retain the God of Israel." They determine to thrust out the ark of God, that they might peaceably enjoy themselves and Dagon. Wicked men arc upon all occasions glad to be rid of God, but they can with no patience endure to part with their sins ; and while they are weary of the hand that punisheth them, they hold fast the cause of their punishment.
Their first and only care is to put away him, who, as lie hath corrected, so can ease them. Folly is never separated from wick- edness.
Their heart told them, that they had no right to the ark. A coun- cil is called of their princes and priests. If they had resolved to send it home, they had done wisely ; now they do not carry it away, but they carry it about from Ebenezer to Ashdod, from Ashdod to Gath, from Gath to Ekron. Their stomach was greater than their conscience. The ark was too sore for them, yet it was too good for Israel ; and they wiJl rather die than make Israel happy.
Their conceit, that the change of air could appease the ark, God useth to his own advantage ; for by this means his power is known, and his judgment spread over all the country of the Phi- listines. What do these men now, but send the plague of God to their fellows ? The justice of God can make the sins of men their mutual executioners. It is the fashion of wicked men, to draw their neighbours into the partnership of their condemnation.
Wheresoever the ark goes, there is destruction. The best of
VOL. I. T
S74 CONTEMPLATIONS.
God's ordinances, if they be not proper to us, are deadly. The Israelites did not more shout for joy when they saw the ark come to them, than the Ekronites cry out for grief to see it brought amongst them : spiritual things are either sovereign or hurtful, ac- cording to the disposition of the receivers. The ark doth either save or kill, as it is entertained.
At last, when the Philistines are well weary of pain and death, they are glad to be quit of their sin : the voice of the princes and people is changed to the better ; Send away the ark of the God of Jsraely and let it return to his own place. God knows how to bring the stubbornest enemy upon his knees ; and makes him do that out of fear, which his best child would do out of love and duty.
How miserable was the estate of these Philistines ! Every man was either dead, or sick : those that were left living, through their extremity of pain envied the dead ; and the cry of their whole cities went up to heaven. It is happy that God hath such store of plagues and thunderbolts for the wicked : if he had not a fire of judgment, wherewith the iron hearts of men might be made flex- ible, he would want obedience, and the world peace. 1 Sam. v.
THE ARK'S REVENGE AND RETURN.
It had wont to be a sure rule, " Wheresoever God is among men, there is the Church :" here only it failed. The testimony of God's presence was many months amongst the Philistines ; for a punish- ment to his own people whom he left ; for a cui'se to those fo- reigners which entertained it.
Israel was seven months without God. How do we think faith- ful Samuel took this absence ? How desolate and forlorn did the tabernacle of God look, without the ark ! There were still the al- tars of God ; his priests, Levitcs, tables, veils, censers, with all the legal accoutrements. These without the ark, were as the sun with- out light, in the midst of an eclipse. If all these had been taken away, and only the ark had been remaining, the loss had been no- thing to this, that the ark should be gone and they left ; for what are all these without God, and how all-sufficient is God without these !
There are times wherein God withdraws himself from his Church, and seems to leave her without comfort, without protection. Sometimes we shall find Israel taken from the ark ; otherwhiles the ark is taken from Israel : in either, there is a separation betwixt the ark and Israel : heavy times to every true Israelite, yet such as whose example may relieve us in our desertions.
Still was this people, Israel ; the seed of him, that would not be left of God without a blessing ; and therefore without the testi- mony of his presence, was God present with them : it were wide with the faithful, if God were not oftentimes with them, when there is no witness of his presence.
One act was a mutual penance to the Israelites and Philis- tines ; I know not to whether more. Israel grieved for the loss of
THE ARK's REVENGE AND RETURN.
275
that, whose presence grieved the Philistines ; their pain was there- fore no other than voluntary.
It is strange that the Philistines would endure seven months'' smart with the ark, since they saw that the presence of the pri- soner would not requite, no nor mitigate to them, one hour's mi- sery : foolish men will be struggling with God, till they be utterly either breathless or impotent. Their hope was, that time might abate displeasure, even while they persisted to offend : the false hopes of worldly men cost them dear ; they could not be so miser- able, if their own hearts did not deceive them, with mis-expecta- tions of impossible favour.
In matters that concern a God, who is so fit to be consulted with, as the priests ? The princes of the Philistines had before given their voices ; yet nothing is determined, nothing is done, without the direction and assent of those whom they accounted sacred. Na- ture itself sends us in divine things, to those persons whose calling is divine. It is either distrust, or presumption, or contempt, that carries us our own ways in spiritual matters, without advising with them whose lips God hath appointed to preserve knowledge. There cannot but arise many difficulties in us about the ark of God : whom should we consult with, but those which have the tongue of the learned ?
Doubtless, this question of the ark did abide much debating. There wanted not fair probabilities on both sides. A wise Philis- tine might well plead, " If God had either so great care of the ark, or power to retain it, how is it become ours ?" A wiser than he would reply, "If the God of Israel had wanted either care or power, Dagon and we had been still whole : why do we thus groan and die, all that are but within the air of the ark, if a divine hand do not attend it ?" Their smart pleads enough for the dismission of the ark.
The next demand of their priests and soothsayers, is, how it should be sent home. Affliction had made them so wise as to know, that every fashion of parting with the ark would not satisfy the owner. Oftentimes the circumstance of an action mars the substance. In divine matters, we must not only look, that the body of our service be sound, but that the clothes be fit.
Nothing hinders, but that sometimes good advice may fall from the mouth of wicked men. These superstitious priests can coun- sel them, not to send away the ark of God empty, but to give it a sin-offering. They had not lived so far from the smoke of the Jewish altars, but that they knew God was accustomed to manifold oblations, and chiefly to those of expiation. No Israelite could have said better. Superstition is the ape of true devotion ; and if we look not to the ground of both, many times it is hard by the very outward acts to distinguish them.
Nature itself teacheth us, that God loves a full hand. He, that hath been so bountiful to us as to give us all, looks for a return of some offering from us : if we present him with nothing but our sins, how can we look to be accepted? Th« sacrifices under the Gos.
276
contemplations.
pel are spiritual ; with these must Ave come into the presence of God, if we desire to carry away remission and favour.
The Philistines knew well, that it were bootless for them to of- fer what they listed : their next suit is to be directed in the matter of their oblation. Pagans can teach us how unsafe it is to walk in the ways of religion without a guide ; yet here their best teachers can but guess at their duty, and must devise for the people, that which the people durst not impose upon themselves : the golden emerods and mice were but conjectural prescripts : with what secu- rit}- may we consult with them, which have their directions from the mouth and hand of the Almighty!
God struck the Philistines at once, in their god, in their bodies, in their land: in their god, by his ruining and dismembering ; in their bodies, by the emerods; in their land, by the mice: that base vermin did God send among them on purpose to shame their Dagon and them, that they might see how unable their god was (which they thought the victor of the ark) to subdue the least mouse, which the true God did create, and command to plague them.
This plague upon their fields began together with that upon their bodies: it was mentioned, not complained of, till they think of dismissing the ark. Greater crosses do commonly swallow up the less : at least, lesser evils are either silent or unheard, while the ear is filled with the clamour of greater.
Their very princes were punished with the mice, as well as with the emerods : God knows no persons in the execution of judg- ments : the least and meanest of all God's creatures is sufficient to be the revenger of his Creator.
God sent them mice and emerods of flesh and blood : they re- turn him both these of gold, to imply, both, that these judgments came out from God and that they did gladly give him the glory of that whereof he gave them pain and sorrow, and that they would willingly buy off their pain with the best of their substance : the proportion betwixt the complaint and satisfaction is more precious to him than the metal. There was a public confession in this re- semblance, which is so pleasing unto God, that he rewards it, even in wicked men, with a relaxation of outward punishment.
The number was no less significant, than the form : five golden emerods and mice, for the five princes and divisions of Philistines. As God made no difference in punishing, so they make none in their oblation : the people are comprised in them, in whom they are united, their several princes : they were one with their prince, their offering is one with his ; as they were ringleaders in their sin, go they must be in the satisfaction. In a multitude it is ever seen, as in a beast, that the body follows the head. Of all others, great men had need to look to their ways ; it is in them, as in figures, one stands for a thousand. One offering serves not all ; there must be five, according to the five heads of the offence. Generalities will not content God ; every man must make his several peace, if not in himself, yet in hi* head. Nature taught them a shadow of
THE ARK*S REVENGE AND RETURN. 277
that, the substance arid perfection whereof is taught us by the grace of the Gospel. Every soul must satisfy God ; if not in itself, yet in him, in whom we are both one and absolute. We are the body, whereof Christ is the head : our sin is in ourselves ; our satisfac- tion must be in him.
Samuel himself could not have spoken more divinely, than these priests of Dagon. They do not only talk of giving glory to the God of Israel, but fall into a holy and grave expostulation ; Where- fore then should ye harden your hearts, as the Egyptians and Pha- raoh hardened their hearts, when he wrought wonderfully amongst them ? S(c. They confess a supereminent and revenging hand of God over their gods ; they parallel their plagues with the Egyp- tian ; they make use of Pharaoh's sin and judgment : what could be better said ? All religions have afforded them that could speak well.
These good words left them still both Philistines and supersti- tious. How should men be hypocrites, if they had not good tongues ? yet, as wickedness can hardly hide itself, these holy speeches are not without a tincture of that idolatry, wherewith the heart was infected ; for they profess care, not only of the persons and lands of the Philistines, but of their gods : That he may take his hand from you, and from your gods. Who would think that wisdom and folly could lodge so near together ? that the same men should have care both of the glory of the true God, and preserva- tion of the false ? that they should be so vain, as to take thought for those gods winch they granted to be obnoxious unto a higher Deity ? Oft-times even one word bewrayeth a whole pack of falsehood ; and though superstition be a cleanly counterfeit, yet some one slip of the tongue discovers it; as we say of devils, which, though they put on fair forms, yet are they known by their cloven feet.
What other warrant these superstitious priests had for the main substance of their advice, 1 know not ; sure I am, the probability of the event was fair. That two kine never used to any yoke, should run from their calves, which were newly shut up from them, to draw the ark home into a contrary way, must needs argue a hand above nature. "What else should overrule brute creatures to prefer a forced carriage unto a natural burden ? what should carry them from their own home, towards the home of the ark ? what else should guide an untamed and untaught team, in as right a path toward Israel, as their teachers could have gone? what else could make very beasts more wise than their mas- ters ? There is a special providence of God, in the very motions of brute creatures. Neither the Philistines nor Israel saw aught that drove them ; yet they saw them so run, as those that were led by the divine conduct. The reasonless creatures also do the will of their Maker: every act that is done, either by them, or to them, makes up the decree of the Almighty ; and if in extraordinary actions and events his hand it more visible, yet it is no less certain- ly present in the common.
278 CONTEMPLATIONS.
Little did the Israelites of Bethshemesh look for such a sight, while they were reaping their wheat in the valley, as to see the ark of God come running to them without a convoy ; neither can it be said, whether they were more affected with joy, or with astonish- ment ; with joy at the presence of the ark, with astonishment at the miracle of the transportation. Don n went their sickles ; and now every man runs to reap the comfort of this better harvest, to meet that bread of angels, to salute those cherubims, to welcome that God whose absence had been their death : but, as it is hard not to overjoy in a sudden prosperity, and to use happiness is no less dif- ficult than to forbear it, these glad Israelites cannot see but they must gaze ; they cannot gaze on the glorious outside, but thev must be (whether out of rude jollity, or curiosity, or suspicion of the purloining some of those sacred implements) prving into the secrets of God's ark : nature is too subject to extremities, and is ever either too dull in want, or wanton in fruition. It is no easy matter to keep a mean, whether in good or evil.
Bethshemesh was a city of priests : they should have known bet- ter how to demean themselves towards the ark : this privilege dou- bled their offence. There was no malice in this curious inquisi- tion : the same eves, that looked into the ark, looked also up to heaven in their offerings ; and the same hands, that touched it, of- fered sacrifice to the God that brought it.
Who could expect any thing now but acceptation? Who could suspect any danger ? It is not a following act of devotion, that can make amends for a former sin : there was a death owing them, immediately upon their offence ; God will take his own time for the execution ; in the mean while, they may sacrifice, but they cannot satisfy ; they cannot escape.
The kine are sacrificed ; the cart burns them that drew it : here was an offering of praise, when they had more need of a trespass offering : many a heart is lifted up in a conceit of joy, when it hath just cause of humiliation.
God lets them alone with their sacrifice, but when that is done, he comes over them with a back-reckoning for their sin : fifty thousand and seventy Israelites are struck dead for this irreverence to the ark : a woeful welcome for the ark of God into the borders of Israel. It killed them for looking into it, who thought it their life to see it : it dealt blows and death on both hands ; to Philis- tines, to Israelites ; to both of them for profaning it, the one with their idol, the other with their eyes. It is a fearful thing to use the holy ordinances of God with an irreverent boldness. Fear and trembling become us in our access to the majesty of the Al- mighty.
Neither was there more state than secrecy in God's ark : some things the wisdom of God desh'es to conceal. The irreverence of the Israelites was no more faulty than their curiosity ; Secret things to God ; things revealed to as and to ou; children. 1 Sam. ii.
2l§
THE REMOVAL OF THE ARK.
I hear of the Bethshemites' lamentation, I hear not of their repen- tance : they complain of their smart, they complain not of their sin ; and, for aught I can perceive, speak, as if God were curious, rather than they faulty ; Who is able to stand before this holy Lord God ; and to whom shall he go from its ? As if none could please that God which misliked them. It is the fashion of natural men, to justify themselves in their own courses ; if they cannot charge any earthly thing with the blame of tlleir suffering, they will cast it upon Heaven : that a man pleads himself guilty of his own wrong, is no common work of God's Spirit.
Bethshemesh bordered too near upon the Philistines. If these men thought the very presence of the ark hurtful, why do they send to their neighbours of Kirjath-jearim, that they might make them- selves miserable ? Where there is a misconceit of God, it is no marvel if there be a defect of charity.
How cunningly do they send their message to their neighbours ! They do not say, " The ark of God is come to us of its own ac- cord," lest the men of Kirjath-jearim should reply, " It is come to you, let it stay with you :" they say only, " The Philistines have brought it." They tell of the presence of the ark ; they do not tell of the success, lest the example of their judgment should have discouraged the forwardness of their relief : and after all, the offer was plausible; Come ye down, and take it up to you ; as if the honour had been too great for themselves ; as if their mo- desty had been such, that they would not forestall an I engross hap- piness from the rest of Israel. It is no boot to teach nature how to tell her own tale : smart and danger will make a man witty. He is rarely constant, that will not dissemble for case. It is good to be suspicious of the evasions of those, which would put off misery.
Those of Bethshemesh were not more crafty, than these of Kir- jath-jearim (which was the ground of their boldness) faithful. So many thousand Bethshemites could not be dead, and no part of the rumour fly to them : they heard how thick, not only the Philis- tines, but the bordering Israelites fell down dead before the ark; yet they durst adventure to come and fetch it, even from amongst the carcases of their brethren.
They had been formerly acquainted with the ark ; they knew it was holy ; it could not be changeable ; and therefore they well conceived this slaughter to arise from the unholiness of men, not from the rigour of God ; and thereupon can seek comfort in that, which others found deadly : God's children cannot by any means be discouraged from their honour and love to his ordinances : if they see thousands struck down to Hell by the sceptre of God's kingdom, yet they will kiss it upon their knees ; and if their Sa- viour be a rock of offence, and the occasion of the fall of millions in Israel, they can love him no less : they can warm them at the
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fire, wherewith they see others burned; they can feed temperately of that , whereof others have surfeited to death.
Bethshemesh was a city of priests and Levites : Kirjath-jearim a city of Judah, where we hear but of one Levite, Abinadab ; yet this city was more zealous of God, more reverent and consciona- ble in the entertainment of the ark, than the other. We heard of the taking down of the ark by the Bethshemites, when it came mi-, raculonsly to them; we do not hear of any man sanctified for the attendance of it, as was done in this second lodging of the ark ; grace is not tied either to number or means. It is in spiritual mat- ters as in the estate ; small helps with good thrift enrich us, when great patrimonies lose themselves in the neglect,
Shifoh was wont to be the place, which was honoured with the presence of the ark. Ever since the wickedness of Eli's sons, that was forlorn and desolate ; and now Kirjath-jearim succeeds into this privilege. It did not stand with the royal liberty of God, no not under the Law, to tie himself unto places and persons. Unwor- thiness was ever a sufficient cause of exchange. It was not yet his time to stir from the Jews, yet he removed from one province to ano- ther : less reason have we to think, that so God will reside amongst vis, that none of our provocations can drive him from us.
Israel, which had found the misery of God's absence, is now re- solved into tears of contrition and thankfulness upon his return. There is no mention of their lamenting after the Lord, while he was gone ; but when he was returned, and settled in Kirjath-jear- im. The mercies of God draw more tears from his children, than his judgments do from his enemies. There is no better sign of good nature or grace, than to be won to repentance with kindness. Notto think of God, exceptwe be beaten unto it, is servile: because God was come again to Israel, therefore Israel is returned to God : if God had not come first, they had never come : if he that came to them had not made them come to him, they had been ever part- ed. They were cloyed with God, while he was perpetually resi- dent with them ; now that his absence had made him dainty, they cleave to him fervently and penitently in his return : this was it that God meant in his departure, a better welcome at his coming back.
I heard no news of Samuel all this while the ark was gone ; now when the ark is returned and placed in Kirjath-jearim, I hear him treat with the people. It is not like he was silent in this sad de- sertion of God : but now he takes full advantage of the professed contrition of Israel, to deal with them effectually, for their perfect conversion unto God. It is great wisdom in spiritual matters, to take occasion by the forelock, and to strike while the iron is hot : we may beat long enough at the door, but till God have opened, it is no going in ; and when he hath opened, it is no delaying to enter.
The trial of sincerity is the abandoning of our wonted sins. This Samuel urgeth ; If ye be come again unto the Lord with all your heart, put away the strange gods from among you, and Ash-
THE REMOVAL OF THE ARK. 281
taroth. In vain had it been to profess repentance, whilst they con- tinued in idolatry. God will never acknowledge any convert that stays in a known sin. Graces and virtues are so linked together, that he which hath one hath all : the partial conversion of men unto God is but hateful hypocrisy.
How happily effectual is a word spoken in season ! Samuel's exhortation wrought upon the hearts of Israel, and fetched water out of their eyes, suits and, confessions and vows out of their hps, and their false gods out of— their hands ; yet it was not merely remorse, but fear also, that moved Israel to this humble sub- mission.
The Philistines stood over them still, and threatened them with new assaults ; the memory of their late slaughter and spoil was yet fresh in their minds : sorrow for the evils past and fear of the future fetched them down upon their knees. It is not more necessary for men to be cheered with hopes, than to be awed with dangers: where God intends the humiliation of his servants, there shall not want means of their dejection : it was happy for Israel, that they had an enemy.
Is it possible that the Philistines, after those deadly plagues, which they sustained from the God of Israel, should think of in- vading Israel ? Those that were so mated with the presence of the ark, that they never thought themselves safe till it was out of sight, do they now dare to thrust themselves upon the new revenge of the ark ? It slew them while they thought to honour it, and do they think to escape while they resist it ? It slew them in their own coasts, and do they come to it to seek death ? Yet behold, no sooner do the Philistines hear that the Israelites are gathered to Mizpeh, but the princes of the Philistines gather themselves against them. No warnings will serve obdurate hearts. Wicked men are even ambitious of destruction : judgments need not to go find them out ; they run to meet their bane.
The Philistines come up, and the Israelites fear > they, that had not the wit to fear, whilst they were not friends with God, have not now the grace of fearlessness, when they were reconciled to God : boldness and fear are commonly misplaced in the best hearts: when we should tremble, we'are confident ; and when we should be as- sured, we tremble. Why should Israel have feared, since they had made their peace with the God of Hosts ? Nothing should affright those, which are upright with God.
The peace, which Israel had made with God, was true, but ten- der. They durst not trust their own innocency, so much as the prayers of Samuel ; Cease not to cry to the Lord our God for us. In temporal things, nothing hinders but we may fare better for otlier men's faith, than for our own. It is no small happiness, to be interested in them which are favourites in the court of Heaven : one faithful man in these occasions is more worth, than millions of the wavering and uncertain.
A good heart is easily won to devotion. Samuel cries, and sa- criiiceth to God ; he had done so, though they had entreated his
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
silence, yea his forbearance. While he is offering, the Philistines fight with Israel, and God fights with the Philistines ; The Lord thundered with a great thunder that day upon the Philistines, and scattered them. Samuel fought more upon his knees, than all Is- rael did besides. The voice of God answered the voice of Samuel, and speaks confusion and death to the Philistines. How were the proud Philistines dead with fear, ere they died, to hear the fearful thunder-claps of an angry God against them ! to see, that heaven itself fought against them ! He, that slew them secretly in the re- venges of his ark, now kills them with open horror in the fields. If presumption did not make wicked men mad, they would never lift their hand against the Almighty : what are they in his hands, when he is disposed to vengeance ? 1 Samuel vii.
THE MEETING OF SAUL AND SAMUEL.
Samuel began his acquaintance with God early, and continued it long : he began it inhislong coats, and continued to his grey hairs. He judged Israel all the days of his life. God doth not use to cast off his old servants ; their age endeareth them to him the more: if we be not unfaithful to him, he cannot be inconstant tons.
At last, his decayed age met with ill partners ; his sons for depu- ties, and Saul for a king. The wickedness of his sons gave the occasion of a change : perhaps Israe l had never thought ot a king, if Samuel's sons had not been unlike their father: who can pro- mise himself holy children, when the loins of a Samuel and the education in the temple yielded monsters? It is not likely, that good Samuel was faulty in that indulgence, for which his own mouth had denounced God's judgments against Eli : yet this holy man succeeds Eli in his cross, as well as his place, though not in his sin ; and is afflicted with a wicked succession : God will let us find, that grace is by gift, not by inheritance.
I fear Samuel was too partial to nature in the surrogation of his sons. I do not hear of God's allowance to this act. If this had been God's choice as well as his, it had been like to have received more blessing. Now all Israel had cause to rue, that these were the sons of Samuel ; for now the question was not of their virtues, but of their blood ; not of their worthiness, but their birth : even the best heart may be blinded with affection. Who can marvel at these errors of parents' love, when he that so holily judged Israel all his life, misjudged of his own sons ?
It was God's ancient purpose, to raise up a king to his people : how doth he take occasion to perform it, but by the unruly desires of Israel ? Even as we say of human proceedings, that ill manners beget good laws. That monarchy is the best form of government, there is no question. Good things may be ill desired ; so was this of Israel. If an itching desire of alteration had not possessed them, why did they not rather sue for a reformation of their go- vernors, than for a change of government ? W ere Samuel's sons
THE MEETING OF SAUL AND SAMUEL. 583
so desperately evil, that there was no possibility of amendment ? or if they were past hope, were there not some others to have suc- ceeded the justice of Samuel, no less than these did his person? What needed Samuel to be thrust out of place ? What needed the ancient form of administration to be altered ? He that raised up their judges would have found time to raise them up kings : their curious and inconstant new-fangledness will not abide to stayit, but with a heady importunity labours to over -hasten the pace of God. Where there is a settled course of good government, how- soever blemished with some weaknesses, it is not safe to be over- forward to a change, though it should be to the better. He, by whom kings reign, says, They have cast him away that he should not reign over them because they desire a king to reign over them. J udges were his own institution to his people ; as yet kings were not : after that kings were settled, to desire the government of judges had been a much more seditious inconstancv. God hath not appointed to every time and place, those forms which are simply best in themselves, but those which are best to them unto whom they are appointed ; which we may neither alter till he begin, nor recal when he hath altered.
This business seemed personally to concern Samuel ; yet he so deals in it, not as a party, not as a judge of his own case, but as a prophet of God, as a friend of his opposite: he prays to God for advice ; he foretels the state and courses of their future king. Wil- ful men are blind to all dangers, are deaf to all good counsels. Israel must have a king, though they pay never so dear for their longing. The vain affectation of conformity to other nations overcomes all dis- couragements : there is no readier way to error, than to make others' examples the rule of our desires or actions. If every man have not grounds of his own whereon to stand, there can be no stability in his resolutions or proceedings.
Since then they chuse to have a king, God himself will chuse and appoint the king which they shall have. The kingdom shall begin in Benjamin, which was to endure in .Tudah. It was no pro- bability or reason, this first king should prove well, because he was abortive : their humour of innovation deserved to be punished with their own choice. Kish, the father of Saul, was mighty in estate; Saul was mighty in person, overlooking the rest of the people in stature, no less than he should do in dignity. The senses of the Israelites could not but be well pleased for the time, howso- ever their hearts were afterwards : when men are carried with out- ward shews, it is a sign that God means them a delusion.
How far God fetches his purposes about! The asses of Kish, Saul's father, are strayed away : what is that to the news of a king- dom ? God lays these small accidents for the ground of greater designs : the asses must be lost ; none but Saul must go with his father's servant to seek them ; Samuel shall meet them in the search ; Saul shall be premonished of his ensuing royalty : little can we, by the beginning of any action, guess at God's intention in the conclusion.
994 CONTEMPLATIOKS.
Obedience was a fit entrance into sovereignty : the service was homelv for the son of a great man ; vet he rcfuseih not to go, as a fellow to his father's servant, upon so mean a search : the diso- bedient and scornful are good for nothing ; they are neither fit to be subjects nor governors.
Kish was a great man in l>is country ; yet he disdaineth not to send his son Saul upon a thrifty errand, neither doth Saul plead his disparagement for a refusal. Pride and wantonness have mar- red our times: great parents count it a disreputation to employ their sons in courses of frugality ; and their pampered children think it a shame to do any thing, and so bear themselves as those that hold it the only glory to be either idle or wicked.
Neither doth Saul go fashionably to work, but does this service heartily and painfully, as a man that desires rather to effect the command than please the commander : he passed from Ephraim to the land of Shalisha, from Shalisha to Salim, from Salim to Jcmini whence his house came, from Jemini to Zuph, not so much as staying with any of his kindred so long as to victual himself : he that was afterward an ill king approved himself a good son. As there are diversities of relations and offices, so there is of disposi- tions ; those, which are excellent in some, attain not to a mediocri- ty in other. It is no arguing from private virtues to public, from dexterity in one station to the rest : a several grace belongs to the particular carriage of every place whereto we are called, which if we want, the place may well want us.
There was more praise of his obedience in ceasing to seek, than in seeking : he takes care, lest his father should take care for him ; that whilst he should seem officious in the less, he might not neg- lect the greatest. A blind obedience in some cases doth well, but it doth far better, when it is led with the eyes of discretion ; other- wise, we mav more offend in pleasing, than in disobeying.
Great is the benefit of a wise and religious attendant.: such an one puts us into those duties and actions, which are most expedient and least thought of. If Saul had not had a discreet servant, he had returned but as wise as he came ; now he is drawn in to con- sult with the man of God, and hears more than he hoped for. Saul was now a sufficient journey from his father's house ; yet his religious servant, in this ^remoteness, takes knowledge of the place where the prophet dwells, and how honourably doth he mention him to his master ! Behold, in this city is a man of God ; and he is an honourable man ; all that he saith comet h to pass. God's pro- phets are public persons ; as their function, so their notice con- cerns every man. There is no reason God should abate any of the respect due to his ministers under the Gospel : Saint Paul's suit is both universal and everlasting ; / beseech you, brethren, knou them that labour amongst you.
The chief praise is to be able to give good advice ; the next is, to take it. Saul is easily induced to condescend : he, whose curi- osity led him voluntarily at last to the Witch of Endor, is now led at first by good counsel to the man of God.
THE MEETING OF SAUL AND SAMUEL.
285
Neither is his care in going less commendable, than his will to go ; for as a man that had been catechised not to go unto God empty-handed, he asks, What shall wc bring unto the man? What have we? The case is well altered in our times: every man thinks* " What may I keep back?" There is no gain so sweet as of a robbed altar ; yet God's charge is no less under the Gospel, Let him that is taught, make his teacher partaker of all. As this faith- ful care of Saul was a just presage of success, more than he looked for or could expect ; so the sacrilegious unthankfulness of many bodes that ruin to their soul and estate, which they could not have grace to fear.
He that knew the prophet's abode knew also the honour of his place. He could not but know that Samuel was a mixed person ; the judge of Israel, and the seer.: yet both Saul and his servant purpose to present him with the fourth part of a shekel, to the value of about our five-pence. They had learned, that thankfulness was not to be measured of good men by the weight, but by the t will of the retributor: how much more will God accept the small offerings of his weak servants, when he sees them proceed from great iove !
The very maids of the city can give direction to the prophet: they had listened after the holy affairs, they had heard of the sacri- fice, and could tell of the necessity of Samuel's presence : those, that live within the sunshine of religion, cannot but be somewhat coloured with those, beams : where there is prac tice and example of piety in the better sort, there will be a reflection of it upon the meanest: it is no small benefit to live in religious and holy places ; we shall be much to blame, if all goodness fall beside us. Yea so skilful were these damsels in the fashions of their public sacrifices, that thev could instruct Saul and his servant, unasked, how the peo- ple would not eat, till Samuel came to bless the sacrifice.
This meeting was not more a sacrifice, than it was a feast : these two agree well: we have never so much cause to rejoice in feast- ing, as when we have duly served our God. The sacrifice was a feast to God, the other to men : the bodv may eat and drink with contentment, when the soul hath been first fed, and hath first feast- ed the Maker of both; Go eat thy bread with joy, and drink tin) drink with a merry heart, for God now accep/eth thy works.
The sacrifice was before consecrated, when.it was offered to God ; but it was not consecrated to them, till Samuel blessed it : his blessing made that meat holy to the guests, which was formerly hallowed to God. All creatures were made good, and took holi- ness from him which gave them their being : our sin brought that curse upon them, which, unless our prayers remove it, cleaves to them still, so as we receive them not without a curse. We are notour own friends, except our prayers help to take that away, which our sin hath brought, that so to the clean all mav be clean : it is an un- mannerly godlessness, to take God's creatures without the leave of their Maker ; and well may God withhold his blessing from them, which have not the grace to usk it.
2S6
CONTEMPLATIONS.
Those guests, which were so religious, that they would not eat their sacrifice unblessed, might have blessed it themselves : every man might pray, though every man might not sacrifice ; yet would they not either eat or bless, while they looked for the presence of a prophet. Every Christian may sanctify his own meat, but where those are present that are peculiarly sanctified to God, this service is fittest for them. It is commendable to teach children the prac- tice of thanksgiving ; but the best is ever mostmeetto bless ourtables, and those especially, whose office it is to offer our prayers to God.
Little did Saul think, that his coming and his errand was so noted of God, as that it was fore-signified unto the prophet; and now, behold Samuel is told a day before of the man, time, and place of his meeting. The eye of God's providence is no less over all our actions, all our motions. We cannot go any whither without him ; he tells all our steps : since it pleaseth God therefore to take notice of us, much more should we take notice of him, and walk with him in whom we move !
Saul came beside his expectation to the prophet : he had no thought of any such purpose, till his servant made this sudden motion unto him of visiting Samuel, and yet God says to his pro- phet, I wiU send thee a man out of the land of Benjamin. The overruling hand of the Almighty works us insensibly and all our aftairs to his own secret determinations ; so as while we think to do our own wills we do his. Our own intentions we may know ; God's purposes we know not : we must go the way that we are called, let him lead us to what end he pleaseth : it is our duty to resign our- selves and our ways to the disposition of God, and patiently and thankfully to await the issue of his decrees.
The same God, that foreshewed Saul to Samuel, now points to him, See, this is the man ; and commands the prophet to anoint him governor over Israel. He, that told of Saul before he came, knew before he came into the world, what a man, what a king the would be ; yet he chuseth him out, and enjoins his inunction. It is one of the greatest praises of God's wisdom, that he can turn the evil of men to his own glory. Advancement is not ever a sign of love, either to the man or to the place. It had been better for Saul, that his head had been ever dry : some God raiseth up in judgment, that they may fall the more uneasily : there are no men so miserable as those, that are great and evil.
It seems that Samuel bore no great port in his outside, for that Saul, not discerning him either by his habit or attendants, comes to him, and asks him for the seer : yet was Samuel as yet the judge of Israel : the substitution of his sons had not displaced himself. There is an affable familiarity, that becometh greatness : it is not good for eminent persons to stand always upon the height of their state, but so to behave themselves, that, as their sociable carriage may not breed contempt, so their over-highness may not breed a servile fearfulness in their people.
How kindly doth Samuel entertain and invite Saul! Yet it was he only, that bhould receive wrong by the future royalty of Saul.
THE MEETING OF SAUL AND SAMUEL. 287
Who would not have looked, that aged Samuel should have emu- lated rather the glory of his young rival, and have looked churlish- ly upon the man that should rob him of his authority ? Yet now, ' as if he came on purpose to gratify him, he bids him to the feast, he honours him with the chief seat, he reserves a select morsel for him, he tells him iugenuouslv the news of his ensuing sovereignty ; On whom is set the desire of all Israel ? Is it not upon thee and thy father'' $ house ? Wise and holy men, as they are not ambitious of their own burden, so they are not unwilling to be eased when God pleaseth to discharge them ; neither can they envy those, whom God lifteth above their heads : they make an idol of honour, that are troubled with their own freedom, or grudge at the promotion of others.
Doubtless Saul was much amazed with this strange salutation, and news of the prophet ; and how modestly doth he put it off, as that which was neither fit nor likely ! disparaging his tribe in re- spect of the rest of Israel, his father's family in respect of the tribe, and himself in respect of his father's family. Neither did his humility stoop below the truth ; for as Benjamin was the youngest son of Israel, so he was now by much the least tribe of Israel. They had not yet recovered that universal slaughter, which they had received from the hands of their brethren, whereby a tribe was almost lost to Israel ; yet even out of the remainder of Benjamin doth God chuse the man, that shall command Israel ; out of the rubbish of Benjamin doth God raise the throne. That is not ever the best and fattest which God chooseth, but that which God chooseth is ever the fittest : the strength or weakness of means is neither spur nor bridle to the determinate choices of God; yea rather he holds it the greatest proof of his freedom and omnipotency, to advance the unlikeliest.
It was no hollow i'.nd feigned excuse, that Saul makes to put off that which he would fain enjoy, and to cause honour to follow him the more eagerly : it was the sincere truth of his humility, that so dejected him under the hand of God's prophet. Fair beginnings are no sound proof of our proceedings and ending well : how often hath a bashful childhood ended in an impudency of youth, a strict entrance in licentiousness, early forwardness in atheism ! There might be a civil meekness in Saul, true grace there was not in him. They, that be good, bear more fruit in their age.
Saul had but five-pence in his purse to give the prophet ; the prophet, after much i^ood cheer, gives him the kingdom : he be- stows the oil of royal consecration on his head, the kisses of ho- mage upon his face, and sends him away rich in thoughts and ex- pectation ; and now, lest his astonishment should end in distrust, he settles his assurance, by forewarnings of those events which he should find in his way : he tells him whom he shall meet, what they shall say, how himi elf shall be affected ; that all these and himself might be so man y witnesses of his following coronation. K very word 'confirmed Kim; for well might he think, " He that tan foretell me the mou ions and words of others cannot fail in
288 CONTEMPLATIONS.
mine;" especially when, as Samuel had prophesied to him, he found himself to prophesy ; his prophesying did enough foretell his kingdom.
No sooner did Samuel turn his back from Saul, but God gave him another heart ; lifting up his thoughts and disposition to the pitch of a king : the calling of God never leaves a man unchang-
' ed ; neither did God ever employ any man in his service, whom he did not enable to the work he set him, especially those whom he raiseth up to the supply of his own place, and the representa- tion of himself. It is no marvel, if princes excel the vulgar in
- gifts, no less than in dignity : their crowns and their hearts are both in one and the same hand ; if God did not add to their powers as well as their honours, there would be no equality, i Samuel ix.
THE INAUGURATION OF SAUL.
God hath secretly destined Saul to the kingdom : it could not con- tent Israel that Samuel knew this ; the lots must so decide the choice, as if it had not been predetermined. That God, which is ever constant to his own decrees, makes the lots to find him out whom Samuel had anointed. If once we have notice of the will of God, we may be confident of the issue : there is no chance, to the Almighty ; even casual things are no less necessary in their first cause, than the natural.
So far did Saul trust the prediction and oil of Samuel, that he hides him among the stuff : he knew where the lots would light, before thev were east : this was but a modest declination of that honour, which he saw must come. His very withdrawing shewed some expectation; why else should he have. hid himself, rather than the other Israelites ? Yet could he not hope his subducing him- self could disappoint the purpose of God : he well knew, that he, which found out and designed his name amongst the thousands of Israel, would easily finu out his person in a ttmt. When once we know God's decree, in vain shall we strive against it : before we know it, it is indifferent for us to work to the likeliest.
I cannot blame Saul for hiding himself from a kingdom ; espe- cially of Israel. Honour is heavy when it comes upon the best terms : how should it be otherwise, when all men's ca .'es are cast upon one? but most of all in a troubled estate ? No mail: jan put to sea without danger; but he, that launcbeth forth in a tc orpest, can expect no- thing but the hardest event. Such was u e condition of Israel. Their old enemy the Philistines were stilles with that fearful thun- der of God, as finding what it was to war against the Almighty. There were adversaries enough besides n their borders : it was but a hollow truce, that was betwixt Isr? el and their heathenish neighbours ; and Nahash was now at their gates.
Well did Saul know the difference, between a peaceful govern- ment, and the perilous and wearisome tuoikults of war. The quietest
THE INAUGURATION OF SAUL. 239
throne is full of cares, but the perplexed, of dangers. Cares and dangers drove Saul into this corner, to hide his head from a crown : these made him chuse rather to lie obscurely among the baggage of his tent, than to sit gloriously in the throne of state. This hiding could do nothing but shew, that both he suspected lest he should be chosen, and desired he should not be chosen. That God, from whom the hills and the rocks could not conceal him, brings him forth to the light ; so much more longed for, as he was more unwilling to be seen ; and more applauded, as he was more longed for.
Now then when Saul is drawn forth in the midst of the eager expectation of Israel, modesty and godliness shewed themselves in his face. The press cannot hide him, whom the stuff had hid : as if he had been made to be seen, he overlooks all Israel in height of stature, for presage of the eminence of his estate ; From the shoulders upward, was he higher than any of the people.
Israel sees their lots are fallen upon a noted man ; one whose person shewed he was born to be a king : and now all the people shout for joy ; they have their longing, and applaud their own happiness and their king's honour. How easy is it for us to mis- take our own estates ! to rejoice in that, which we shall find the just cause of our humiliation ! The end of a thing is better than the beginning : the safest way is to reserve our joy, till we have good proof of the worthiness and fitness of the object. What are we the better for having a blessing, if we know not how to use it ?
The office and observance of a king was uncouth to Israel ; Sa- muel therefore informs the people of their mutual duties, and writes them in a book, and lays it up before the Lord ; otherwise novel- ty might have been a warrant for their ignorance, and ignorance for neglect. There are reciprocal respects of princes and peo- ple, which if they be not observed, government languisheth into confusion : these Samuel faithfully teacheth them. Though he may not be their judge, yet he will be their prop'net : he will instruct, if he may not rule ; yea he will instruct him that shall rule. There is no king absolute, but he that is the king of all gods : earthly mo- narchs must walk by a rule, which if they transgress, they shall be accountable to him that is higher than the highest, who hath de- puted them. Not out of care of civility, so much as conscience, must every Samuel labour to keep even terms betwixt kings and subjects ; prescribing just moderation to the one, to the other obe- dience and loyalty, which whoever endeavours to trouble, is none of the friends of God or his Church.
The most and best applaud their new king ; some wicked ones despised him, and said, How shall he save us ? It was not the might of his parents, the goodliness of his person, the privilege of his lot, the fame of his prophesying, the panegyric of Samuel, that could shield him from contempt, or win him the hearts of all. There was never yet any man, to whom some took not exceptions. It is not possible either to please or displease all men, while some men
vol. r. u
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
are in love with vice, as deeply as others with virtue, and some (as ill) dislike virtue, if not tor itself, yet for contradiction.
They well saw, Saul chose not himself ; they saw him worthv to have been chosen, if the election should have been carried by voices, and those voices by their eyes ; thev saw him unwilling to hold or yield, when he was chosen : yet they will envy him. W hat fault could they find in him whom God had chosen ? His paren- tage was equal, his person above them, his inward parts mora above them than the outward : malcontents will rather devise than want causes of riving out ; and rather than fail, the universal ap- probation of others is ground enough of their dislike. It is a vain ambition of those, that would be loved of all : the Spirit of God, when he enjoins us peace, withal he adds, If it be possible ; and favour is more than peace. A man's comfort must be in himself; the conscience of deserving well.
The neighbouring Ammonites could not but have heard of God's fearful vengeance upon the Philistines ; and yet they will be taking up the quarrel against Israel : Nahash comes up against Jabesh- Gilead. Nothing but "race can teach us to make use of others' judgments; wicked me n are not moved with ought that falls be- side them ; they trust nothing but their own smart. What fearful judgments doth God execute every dav ! Resolute sinners take no notice of them ; and are grown so peremptory, as if God had never siiewed dislike of their ways.
The GUeadites were not more base, than Nahash the Ammonite was cruel : the Gileadites would buy their peace with servility ; Nahash would sell them a servile peace for their right eyes. Jephthah the Gileadite did vet stick in the stomach of Amnion ; and now they think their revenge cannot be too bloodv. It is a wonder that he, which would offer so merciless a condition to Israel, would yield to the motion of any delay : he meant nothing but shame and death to the Israelites, yet he condescends to a seven days' respite. Perhaps his confidence made him thus careless. Howsoever, it was the restraint of God, that gave this breath to Israel, and this opportunity to Saul's courage and victorv. The enemies of God's Church cannot be so malicious, as thev would ; cannot approve themselves so malicious, as they are : God so holds them in some- times, that a stander-by would think them favourable.
The news of Gilead's distress had soon filled and afflicted Israel': the people think of no remedy, but their pity and tears. Evils are easilv grieved for, not easily redressed. Onlv Saul is more stirred with indignation than sorrow. That God, which put into him a spirit of prophecy, now puts into him a spirit of fortitude : he was before appointed to the throne, not settled in the throne > he followed the beasts in the field, when he should have command- ed men. Now, as one that would be a king no less by merit than election, he takes upon him and performs the rescue of Gi!e;ul; he assembles Israel, he leads them, he raiseth the siege, breaks the troops, cuts the throats of the Ammonites. When God hath any exploit to perform, he raiseth up the heart of some chosen insirn-
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ment with heroical motions for the achievement : when all hearts are cold and dead, it is a sign of intended destruction.
This day hath made Saul a complete king ; and now the thank- ful Israelites begin to inquire after those discontented mutineers, which had refused allegiance unto so worthy a commander; Bring those men, that we may slay them. This sedition had deserved death, though Saul had been foiled at Gilead ; but now his happy victory whets the people much more to a desire of this just execu- tion. Saul, to whom the injury was done, hinders the revenge; There shall no man die this day, for to-day the Lord hath saved Israel ; that his fortitude might not go beyond his mercy.
How noble were these beginnings of Saul ! His prophecy shew- ed him miraculously wise, his battle and victory no less valiant, his pardon of his rebels as merciful : there was not more power shewed in overcoming the Ammonites, than in overcoming himself, and the impotent malice of these mutinous Israelites. Now Israel sees they have a king, that can both shed blood, and spare it ; that can shed the Ammonites' blood, and spare theirs : his mercy wins those hearts, whom his valour could not. As in God, so in his de- puties, mercy and justice should be inseparable . wheresoever these two go asunder, government follows them into distraction, and ends in ruin.
If it had been a wrong offered to Samuel, the forbearance of the revenge had not been so commendable ; although upon the day of so happy a deliverance, perhaps it had not been seasonable : a man hath reason to be most bold with himself. It is no praise of mercy (since it is a fault injustice) to remit another man's satis- faction j his own he may. 1 Sam. -X.
SAMUEL'S CONTESTATION.
Eyery one can be a friend to him that prospereth : by this victory hath Saul as well conquered the obstinacy of his own people : now there is no Israelite that rejoiceth not in Saul's kingdom.
No sooner have they done objecting to Saul, than Samuel begins to expostulate with them. The same day, wherein they began to be pleased, God shews himself angry. All the passages of their proceedings offended him : he deterred to let tliem "know it till now, that the kingdom was settled, and their hearts lifted up. Now doth God cool their courage artd joy, with a back-reckoning for their forwardness. God will not let his people run away with the arrearages of their sins, but when they least think of it, calls them to an account.
All this while was God angry with their rejection of Samuel ; yet, as if there had been nothing but peace, he gives them a vic- tory over their enemies ; he gives way to their joy in their elec- tion : now he lets them know, that, after their peace-ofterings, he hath a quarrel with them. God may be angry enough with us, wlule we outwardly prosper. Jt is the wisdom of God, to take his
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best advantages : he suffers us to go on, till \vc sliould come to en- joy the fruit of our sin ; till we seem past the danger, either of conscience or punishment; then, even when we begin to be past the feeling of our sin, we shall begin to feel his displeasure for our sins. This is only where he loves, where he would both forgive and reclaim : he hath now to do with his Israel : but where he means utter vengeance, he lets men harden themselves to a repro- bate senselessness, and make up their own measure without con- tradiction, as purposing to reckon with them but once forever.
Samuel had dissuaded them before ; he reproves them not until now. If he had thus bent himself against them, ere the settling of the election, he had troubled Israel in that, which God took oc- casion by their sin to establish : his opposition would have savour- ed of respects to himself, whom the wrong of this innovation chiefly concerned : now therefore, when they are sure of their king and their king of them, when he hath set even terms betwixt them mutually, he lets them see how they were at odds with God. We must ever dislike sins ; we may not ever shew it. Discretion in the choice of seasons for reproving, is jio less commendable and necessary, than zeal and faithfulness in repi-oving : good phvsi- cians use not to evacuate the body in extremities of heat or cold : wise mariners do not hoist sails in every wind.
First doth Samuel begin to clear his own innocence, ere he dare charge them with their sin. He that will cast a stone at an offen- der must be free himself, otherwise he condemns and executes him- self in another person. The conscience stops the mouth of the guilty man, and chokes him with that sin which lies in his own breast ; and having not come forth by a penitent confession, can- not find the way out in a reproof ; or if he do reprove, he doth more shame himself than reform another. He that was the judge of Israel would not now judge himself, but would be judged by Israel ; Whose ox have I taken ? •whose ass have I taken ? or to ■whom have I done wrong ? No doubt, Samuel found himself guilty before God of many private infirmities, but for his public carriage he appeals to men. A man's heart can best judge of himself; others can best judge of his actions. As another man's conscience and approbation cannot bear us out before God, so cannot our own before men ; for oft-times that action is censured by the be- holders as wrongful, wherein we applaud our own justice. Happy is that man, that can be acquitted by himself in prjvate, in public by others, by God in both : standers-bv may see more. It is very safe for a man to look into himself by others' eyes : in vain shall a man's heart absolve him, that is condemned by his actions.
It was not so much the trial of his carriage that Samuel appeal- ed for, as his justification ; not for his own comfort, so much as their conviction. His innocence hath not done him service enough, unless it shame them, and make them confess themselves faulty. In so many vears wherein Samuel judged Israel, it cannot be, but many thousand causes passed his hands, wherein both parties could not possibly be pleased ; yet so clear doth he find his heart
samuel's contestation. 293 and hands, that he dare make the grieved part judges of his judg- ment. A good conscience will make a man undauntedly confident, and dare put him upon any trial : where his own heart strikes him not, it bids him challenge, all the world, and take up all comers. How happy a thing is it, for a man to be his own friend and patron ! He needs not to fear foreign broils, that is at peace at home : con- trarily, he, that hath a false and foul heart, lies at every man's mer- cy, lives slavishly, and is fain to daub up a rotten peace with the basest conditions. Truth is not afraid of any light, and therefore dare suffer her wares to be carried from a dim shop-board unto the street door : perfect gold will be but the purer with trying ; whereas falsehood, being a work of darkness, loves darkness, and therefore seeks where it may w ork closest.
This very appellation cleared Samuel, but the people's attesta- tion cleared him more. Innocency and uprightness become every man well, but most public persons, who shall be else obnoxious to every offender. The throne and the pulpit (of all places) call for holiness, no more for example of good, than for liberty of con- trolling evil : ail magistrates swear to do that, which Samuel pro- tested he hath done : if their oath were so verified, as Samuel's protestation, it were a shame for the state not to be happy. The sins of our teachers are the teachers of sin : the sins of governors do both command and countenance evil.
This very acquitting of Samuel was the accusation of themselves ; for how could it be but faulty, to cast off a faultless governor ? If he had not taken away an ox or an ass from them, why do they take away his authority ? They could not have thus cleared Saul at the end of his reign. It was just with God, since they were weary of a just ruler, to punish them with au unjust.
He, that appealed to them for his own uprightness, durst not ap- peal to them for their own wickedness, but appeals to heaven from them. Men are commonly flatterers of their own cases : it must be a strong evidence, that will make a sinner convicted in himself: nature hath so many shifts to cozen itself in this spiritual verdict, that unless it be taken in the manner, it will hardly yield to a truth ; either she will deny the fact, or the fault, or the measure. And now in this case they might seem to have some fair pretences; tor though Samuel was righteous, yet his sons were corrupt. To cut off all excuses therefore, Samuel appeals to God, the highest judge, for his sentence of their sin, and dares trust to a miraculous conviction. It was now their wheat-harvest : the hot and dry air of that climate did not wont to afford in that season so much moist vapour as might raise a cloud, either for rain or thunder. He, that knew God could and would do both these without the help of second causes, puts the trial upon this issue. Had not Samuel before consulted with his Maker, and received warrant for his act, it had been presumption and tempting of God, which was now a noble improvement of faith. Rather than Israel shall go clear away with a sin, God will accuse and arraign them from heaven. No sooner hath Samuel's voice ceased, than God's voice begins :
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every crack of thunder spake judgment against the rebellious Is- raelites, and every drop of rain was a witness of their sin ; and now they found they had displeased him, which ruleth in the hea- ven, by rejecting the man, that ruled for him on earth. The thun- dering voice of God, that had lately in their sight confounded the Philistines, they now understood to speak fearful things against them. No marvel, if now they fell upon their knees, not to Saul whom they had chosen, but to Samuel ; who, being thus cast off by them, is thus countenanced in heaven. 1 Sam, xii.
SAUL'S SACRIFICE.
God never meant the kingdom should either stay long in the tribe of Benjamin, or remove suddenly from the person of Saul. Many years did Saul reign over Israel, yet God computes him but two years a king. That is not accounted of God to be done, which is not lawfully done. When God which chose Saul rejected him, he was no more a king, but a tyrant. Israel obeyed him still, but God makes no reckoning of him as his deputy, but as an usurper.
Saul was of good years, when he was advanced to the kingdom. His son Jonathan, the first year of his father's reign, could lead a thousand Israelites into the field, and give a foil to the Philistines. And now Israel could not think themselves less happy in their prince, than in their king : Jonathan is the heir of his father's vic- tory, as well as of his valour and his estate. The Philistines were quiet after those first thunder-claps, all the time of Samuel's go- vernment ; now they begin to stir under Saul.
How utterly is Israel disappointed in their hopes ! That security and protection, which they promised themselves in the name of a king, they found in a prophet, failed of in a warrior. They were more safe under the mantle, than under arms. Both enmity and safeguard are from heaven. Goodness hath been ever a stronger guard than valour. It is the surest policy, always to have peace with God.
We find by the spoils, that the Philistines had some battles with Israel which are not recorded. After the thunder had scared them into a peace, and restitution of all the bordering cities, from Ekron to Gath, they had taken new heart, and so beslaved Israel, that ■they had neither weapon nor smith left amongst them ; yet even in this miserable nakedness of Israel, have they both fought and overcome. Now might you have seen the unarmed Israelites, marching with their slings, and plough-staves, and hooks, and forks, and other instruments of their husbandry, against a mighty and well-furnished enemy, and returning iaden both with arms and victory. No armour is of proof against the Almighty ; nei- ther is he unweaponcd, that carries the revenge of God. There is the same disadvantage in our spiritual conflicts: we are turned naked to principalities and powers : whilst we go under the
saul's sacrifice. 2S5 conduct of the Prince of our Peace, we cannot but be boki victorious.
Vain men think to overpower God with munition and multitude. The Philistines are not any way more strong, than in conceit : thirty thousand chariots, six thousand horsemen, footmen like the sand for number, make them scorn Israel no less, than Israel fears them. When I see the miraculous success, which had blessed the Israelites, in all their late conflicts with these very Philistines, with the Ammonites, I cannot but wonder how they could fear. They, which in the time of their sin found God to raise such trophies over their enemies, run now into caves, and rocks, and pits, to hide them from the faces of men, when they found God reconciled, and themselves penitent. No Israelite but hath some cowardly blood in him : if we had no fear, faith would have no master)' ; yet these fearful Israelites shall cut the throats of those confident Philistines. Doubt and resolution are not meet measures of our success : a presumptuous confidence goes commonly bleeding home, when an humble fear returns in triumph.
Fear drives those Israelites, which dare shew their heads, out of the caves unto Saul, and makes them cling unto their new king. How troublesome were the beginnings of Saul's honour! Surely, if that man had not exceeded Israel no less in courage than in sta- ture, he had now hid himself in a cave, which before hid himself among the stuff; but now, though the Israelites ran away from him, yet he ran not away from them.
It was not any doubt of Saul's valour, that put his people to their heels ; it was the absence of Samuel. If the prophet had come up, Israel would never have run away from their king. While they had a Samuel alone, they were never well till they had a Saul ; now they have a Saul, they are as far from contentment, because they want a Samuel : unless both join together, they think there can be no safety. Where the temporal and spiritual state combine not together, there can follow nothing but distraction in the people. The prophets receive and deliver the will of God ; kings execute it : the prophets are directed by God ; the people are directed by their kings. Where men do not see God before them in his ordinances, their hearts cannot but fail them, both in their respects tq their superiors, and their courage in themselves. Piety is the mother of perfect subjection. As all authority is de- rived from heaven, so it is thence established: those governors, that would command the hearts of men, must shew them God in their faces.
No Israelite can think himself safe without a prophet. Saul had given them good proof of his fortitude, in his late victory over the Ammonites ; but then proclamation was made before the fight through all the country, that every man should come up after Saul and Samuel. If Samuel had not been with Saul, they would rather have ventured the loss of their oxen, than the hazard of them- selves. How much less should we presume of any safety in our .spiritual combats, when we have not a prophet to lead us ! It v,
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one, saving that it savours of more contempt, not to have God's seers, and not to use them. He can be no true Israelite, that is not distressed with the want of a Samuel.
As one that had learned to begin his rule in obedience, Saul stays seven days in Gilgal, according to the prophet's direction ; and still he looks long for Samuel, which had promised his presence. Six days he expects, and part of the seventh, yet Samuel is not come. The Philistines draw near ; the Israelites run away ; Samuel comes not ; they must fight ; God must be supplicated : what should Saul do ? Rather than God should want a sacrifice, and the people satisfaction, Saul will command that, which lie knew Samuel would, if he were present, both command and execute. " It is not possible," thinks he, " that God should be displeased with a sacrifice : he cannot but be displeased with indevotion. Why do the people run from me, but for want of means to make God sure ? What should Samuel rather wish, than that we should be godly ? The act shall be the same ; the only difference shall be in the person. If Samuel be wanting to us, we will not be wanting to God. It is but a holy prevention, to be devout unbidden." Upon this conceit, he commands a sacrifice.
Saul's sins make no great shew, yet are they still heinously taken : the impiety of them was more hidden, and inward from all eyes but God's. If Saul were among the prophets before, will he now be among the priests ? Can there be any devotion in disobe- dience ? O vain man ! What can it avail thee, to sacrifice to God, against God ? Hypocrites rest only in formalities. If the outward act be done, it sufhceth them, though the ground be distrust, the manner irreverence, the carriage presumption.
What then should Saul have done ? Upon the trust of God and Samuel he should have staid out the last hour, and have secretly sacrificed himself and his prayers, unto that God which loves obe- dience above sacrifice. Our faith is most commendable in the last act. It is no praise to hold out, until we be hard driven. Then, when we are forsaken of means, to live by faith in our God, is worthy of a crown. God will have no worship of our devising : we may only do what he bids us ; not bid what he commands not. Never did any true piety arise out of the corrupt puddle of man's brain : if it flow not from heaven, it is odious to heaven. What was it, that did thus taint the valour of Saul with this weakness, but distrust ? He saw some, Israelites go ; he thought all would go : he saw the Philistines come ; he saw Samuel came not : his diffi- dence was guilty of his misdevotion. There is nO sin, that hath not its ground from unbelief: this, as it was the first infection of our pure nature, so is the true source of all corruption : man could not sin, if he distrusted not.
The sacrifice is no sooner ended, than Samuel is come : and why came he no sooner ? He could not be a seer, and not know how much he was looked for, how troublesome and dangerous his absence must needs be. He, that could tell Saul that he should prophesy, could tell that he would sacrifice; yet he purposely
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forbears to cotne, for the trial of him that must be the champion of God. Samuel durst not have done thus, but by direction from his Master: it is the ordinary course of God, to prove us by de- lays, and to drive us to exigents, that we may shew what we are. He, that anointed Saul, might lawfully from God control him. There must be discretion, there may not be partiality, in our cen- sures of the greatest. God makes difference of sins ; none, of per- sons : if we make difference of sins according to persons, we are unfaithful both to God and man.
Scarce is Saul warm in his kingdom, when he hath even lost it. Samuel's first words after the inauguration are of Saul's rejection, and the choice and establishment of his successor. It was ever God's puruose, to settle the kingdom in Judah. He, that took oc- casion by the people's sin to raise up Saul in Benjamin, takes oc- casion by Saul's sin to establish the crown upon David. In human probability, the kingdom was fixed upon Saul, and his more worthy son ; in God's decree, it did but pass through the hands of Benja- min to Judah. Besides trouble*, how fickle are these earthly glo- ries ! Saul, doubtless, looked upon Jonathan as the inheritor of his crown; and behold, ere his peaceable possession, lie hath lost it from himself. Our sins strip us, not of our hopes in heaven only, but of our earthly blessings. The way to entail a comfortable prosperity upon our seed after us, is our conscionable obedience unto God. 1 Sam. xiii.
JONATHAN'S VICTORY AND SAUL'S OATH.
It is no wonder, if Saul's courage were much cooled with the heavy news of his rejection. After this he stays under the pome- granate tree in Gibeah : he stirs not towards the garrison of the Philistines. As hope is the mother of fortitude, so nothing doth more breed cowardliness than despair. Every thing dismays that heart, which God hath put out of protection.
Worthy Jonathan, which sprung from Saul as some sweet imp grows out of a crabstock, is therefore full of valour, because full of faith. He well knew, that he should have nothing but discou- ragements from his father's fear ; as rather choosing therefore, to avoid all the blocks that might lie in the way than to leap over them, he departs secretly without the dismission of his Gather, or notice of the people : only God 1 "uls him, and his armour-bearer follows him. O admirable faith of Jonathan, whom neither the steepness of rocks, nor the multitude of enemies can dissuade from so unlikely an assault! Is it possible, that two men, whereof one was weaponless, should dare to think of encountering so many thousands? O divine power of faith, that in all difficulties and attempts, makes a man more than men, and regards no more ar- mies of men, than swarms of flies! There is no restraint to ike Lord, saith he, to save with many, or by few. It was not so great news, that Saul should be amongst the prophets, as that such a word should come from the son of Saul,
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It* his father had had hut so much divinity, he had not sacri- ficed. The strength of his God, is the ground of his strength in God. The question is not, what Jonathan can do, but what God can do ; whose power is not in the means, but in himself. That man's faith is well underlaid, that upholds itself by the omnipo- tency of God : thus the father of the faithful built his assurance upon the power of the Almighty.
But many things God can do, which he will not do. How know- est thou, Jonathan, that God will be as forward, as he is able, to give thee victory ? For this," saith he, " I have a watch- word from God, out of the mouths of the Philistines ; If they say, Come up, ~ct will go up; for God hath delivered them into our hands : If they say, Tarry (ill we come to you, ice will stand still." Jonathan was too wise to trust unto a casual presage. There might be some far-fetched conjectures of the event from the word: lie will come to you, was a threat of resolution ; Come you to us, was a challenge of fear ; or perhaps, Come up to us, was a word of insult, from them that trusted to the inaccessiblcness of the place, and multitudes of men. Insult is from pride ; pride ar- gued a fall ; but faith hath nothing to do with probabilities, as that which acknowledgeth no argument but demonstration. If there had not been an instinct from God of this assured warrant of success, Jonathan had presumed, instead of believing ; and had tempted that God, whom he professed to glorify by his trust. There can be no faith, where there is no promise; and where there is a promise, there can be no presumption.
Words are voluntary. The tongues of the Philistines were as free to say, Tarry, as Come : that God, in whom our verv tongues move, over-ruled them eo, as now they shall speak that word, which shall cut their own throats. They knew no more harm in Come, than Tarry: both were alike safe for the sound, for the sense ; but he, that put a signification of their slaughter in the one, not in the other, did put that word into their mouth, whereby they might invite their own destruction. The disposition of our words is from the providence of the Almighty. God and our hearts have not always the same meaning in our speeches. In those words which we speak at random or out of affectation, God hath a fur- ther drift of his own glory, and perhaps our judgment. If wicked men say, Our tongues are our oxen, they could not say so, but from him, whom they defy in ^ying so, and who makes their tongue their executioner.
No sooner doth Jonathan hear this invitation, than he answers it. He, whose hands had learned never to fail his heart, puts himself upon his hands and knees to climb up into this danger, The ex- p'oit was not more difficult than the way : the pain of the passage was equal to the peril of the enterprise, that his faith might equally triumph over both. He doth not say, " How shall I get up?" much less, " Which way shall I get down again r" but, as if the ground were level and the action dangerless, he puts himself into the view of the Philistines. Faith is never so glorious, as when it
jokathan's victory and saul's oath. 299 hath most opposition, and will not sec it : reason looks ever to the means, faith to the end ; and instead of consulting- how to effect, resolves what shall be effected. The way to heaven is more steep, more painful. O God ! how perilous a passage hast thou appointed for thy labouring pilgrims ! If difficulties will discourage us, we shall but climb to fall. When we are lifting up our foot to the last step, there are the Philistines of death, of temptations, to grapple With : give us but faith, and turn us loose to the spite either of earth or hell.
Jonathan is now on the top of the hill ; and now, as if he had an army at his heels, he flies upon the host of the Philistines. His hands, that might have been weary with climbing, are immediately commanded to fight ; and deal as many deaths as blows to the amazed enemy. He needs not walk far for this execution : him- self and his armour-bearer, in one half acre's space, have slain twenty Philistines.
It is not long since Jonathan smote their garrison in the hill of Geba: perhaps, from that time, his name and presence carried terror in it ; but sure, if the Philistines had not seen and felt more than a man in the face and hands of Jonathan, they had not so easily grovelled in death.
The blows and shrieks cannot but affect the next, who with a ghastly noise ran away from death, and affright their fellows no less than themselves are affrighted. The clamour and fear runs on, like fire in a train, to the very foremost ranks. Every man would fly ; and thinks there is so much more cause of flight, for that his ears apprehend all, his eyes nothing. P^uch man thinks his fellow stands in his way, and therefore instead of turning upon him which was the cause of their flight, they bend their swords upon those whom they imagine to be the hinderers of their flight; and now a miraculous astonishment hath made the Philistines Jonathan's champions and executioners. He follows, and kills those which helped to kill others ; and the more he killed, the more they feared ana fled, and the more they killed each other in the flight : and that fear itself might prevent Jonathan in killing them, the earth itself trembles under them. Thus doth God at once strike them with his own hand, with Jonathan's, with theirs ; and makes them run away from life, while they would fly from an enemy. Where the Almighty purposes destruction to any people, he needs not call in foreign powers ; he needs not any hands or weapons, but their own : he can make vast bodies die no other death, than their own weight. We cannot be sure to be friends among ourselves, while God is our enemy.
The Philistines fly fast, but the news of their flight over-runs them even unto Saul's pomegranate tree. The watchmen discern, afar off, a flight and execution. Search is made ; Jonathan is found missing. Saul will consult with the ark : hypocrites, while they have leisure, will perhaps be holy : for some' fits of devotion they cannot be bettered. But when the tumult increased, Saul's pietv decreases : it is now no season to talk with a priest; " Withdraw
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thine hand, Ahinh ; the cpliod must give place to arms : it is more time to fight than to pray." What needs he God's guidance, when he sees lus way before him ? He, that before would needs sacrifice ere he fought, will now in the other extreme fight in a wilful in- devotion. Worldly minds regard holy duties no further, than may stand with their own carnal purposes. Very easy occasions shall interrupt them in their religious intentions ; like unto children, which, if a bird do but fly in their way, cast their eye from their book.
But if Saul serve not God in one kind, he will serve him in another : if he honour him not by attending on the ark, he will honour him bv a vow. His negligence in the one, is recompensed with his zeal in the other. All Israel is adjured not to eat any food until the evening. Hypocrisy is ever masked with a blind and thankless zeal. To wait upon the ark and consult with God's priest in all cases of importance, was a direct commandment of God : to eat no food in the pursuit of their enemies, was not com- manded. Saul leaves that which he was bidden, and does that which he was not required. To eat no food all day was more dif- ficult, than to attend an hour upon the ark : the voluntary services of hypocrites are many times more painful, than the duties en- joined by God.
In what awe did all Israel stand of the oath even of Saul ! It was not their own vow, but Saul's for them ; yet coming into the wood, where they saw the hone)' dropping, and found the meat as ready as their appetite, they dare not touch that sustenance, and will rather endure famine and fainting, than an indiscreet curse. Doubtless, God had brought those bees thither on purpose to try the constancy of Israel. Israel could not but think (that which Jo- nathan said) that the vow was unadvised and injurious; yet they will rather die than violate it. How sacred should we hold the obligation of our own vows in things just and expedient, when the bond of -another's rash vow is thus indissoluble !
There was a double mischief followed upon Saul's oath, an abatement of the victory, and eating with the blood ; for, on the one side, the people were so faint, that they were more likely to die than kill ; they could neither run nor strike in this emptiness ; neither hands nor feet can do their office, when the stomach is neg- lected : on the other, an unmeet forbearance causes a ravenous repast ; hunger knows neither choice, nor order, nor measure. The one of these was a wrong to Israel, the other was a wrong done by Israel to God ; Saul's zeal was guilty of both. A rash vow is seldom ever free from inconvenience : the heart, that hath unnecessarily entangled itself, draws mischief either upon itself or others.
Jonathan was ignorant of his father's adjuration. He knew no reason, why he should not refresh himself in so profitable a service, with a little taste of honey upon his spear. Full well had he de- served this unsought dainty ; and now, behold his honey is turned into gail : if it were sweet in the mouth, it was bitter in the soul ;
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if the eyes of his body were enlightened, the light of God's coun- tenance was clouded by this act. After he heard of the oath, he pleads justly against it, the loss of so fair an opportunity of re- venge, and the trouble of Israel ; yet neither his reasons against the oath, nor his ignorance of the oath, can excuse him from a sin of ignorance in violating that, which first he knew not, and then knew unreasonable.*
Now Saul's leisure would serve him to ask counsel of God. As before Saul would not inquire, so now God will not answer. Well might Saul have round sins enough of his own, whereto to impute this silence. Ke hath grace enough to know that God was offended, and to guess at the cause of his offence : sooner will a hypocrite find out another man's sin than his own.
And now he swears more rashly to punish with death, the breach of that which he had sworn rashly. The lots were cast, and Saul prays for the decision ; Jonathan is taken : even the prayers of wicked men are sometimes heard, although in justice, not in mercy. Saul himself was punished not a little, in the fall of this lot upon Jonathan. Surely Saul sinned more in making this vow, than Jo- nathan in breaking it unwittingly ; and now the father smarts for the rashness of his double vow, by the unjust sentence of death upon so worthy a son.
God had never singled out Jonathan by his lot, if he had not been displeased with his act. Vows rashly made may not be rashly broken. If the thing we have vowed be not evil in itself, or in the effect, we cannot violate it without evil. Ignorance cannot acquit, if it can abate our sin. It is like, if Jonathan had heard his father's adjuration, he had not transgressed : his absence at the time of that oath cannot excuse him from displeasure. What shall become of those, which may know the charge of their heavenly Father, and will not ? which do know his cliarge, and will not keep it ? Affecta- tion of ignorance, and willing disobedience, is desperate.
Death was too hard a censure for such an unknown offence. The cruel piety of Saul will revenge the breach of his own charge, so as he would be loth God should avenge on himself the breach of his divine command. If Jonathan had not found better friends than his father, so noble a victorv had been recompensed with death. He, that saved Israel from the Philistines, is saved by Israel from the hand of his father. Saul hath sworn Jonathan's death ; the people contrarily swear his preservation. His kingdom was not yet so absolute, that he could run away with so unmerciful a jus- tice. Their oath that savoured of disobedience, prevailed against his oath that savoured too strong of cruelty. Neither doubt I, but Saul was secretly not displeased with this loving resistance. So long as his heart was not false to his oath, he could not be sorry that Jonathan should live. 1 Sam. niv.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XIII.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
SIR THOMAS EDMONDS, KNIGHT,
TREASURER OF HIS MAJESTY'S HOUSEHOLD, AND OF HIS MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.
RIGHT HONOURABLE I
After your long and happy acquaintance with other courts and kingdoms, may it please you to compare with them the estate of old Israel. You shall find the same hand swaying all sceptres ; and you shall meet with such a proportion of dispositions and occurrences, that you will say, " Men are still the same, if their names and faces differ." You shall find envy and mutability an- cient courtiers i and shall confess the vices of men still alive, if themselves die. You shall see God still honouring those that honour him, and both rescuing innocence and crowning it. It is not for me to anticipate your deeper and more judicious observations. I am bold to dedicate this piece of my labour to your Honour, in a thankful acknowledgment of those noble respects, I have found from you, both in France and at Home. In lieic of all which, I can but pray for your happiness, and vow myself
Your Honour's, in all humble observance,
JOSEPH HALL.
SAUL AND AG AG.
God holds it no derogation from his mercy, to bear a quarrel long, where he hates. He, whose anger to the vessels of wrath is everlasting, even in temporal judgment revengeth late. The sins of his own children are no sooner done, and repented of, than forgotten ; but the malicious sins of his enemies stick fast in an infinite displeasure : / remember what Amalek did to Israel ; how they laid wait for them by tlieway, as they came up from Egypt.
" Alas, Lord," might Amalek say, " they were our forefathers: we never knew their faces, no not their names ; the fact was so far from our consent, that it is almost past the memory of our histo-
SAUL AND AGAO.
SO")
ries." It is not in the power of time, to rase out any of the arrear- ages of God. We may lay up wrath for our posterity. Happy- is" that child, whose progenitors are in heaven: he is left an inhe- ritor of blessing', together with estate; whereas wicked ancestors lose the thank of a rich patrimony, by the curse that attends it. He, that thinks because punishment is deferred, that God hath for- given or forgot his offence, is unacquainted with justice, and knows not, that time makes no difference in eternity.
The Amalekites were wicked idolaters, and therefore could not want many present sins, which deserved their extirpation. That God, which had taken notice of all their oHenccs, picks out this one noted sin of their forefathers, for revenge. Among all their in- dignities, this shall bear the name of their judgment : as in legal proceedings with malefactors, one indictment found gives the style of their condemnation. In the lives of those which are notoriously wicked, God cannot look beside a sin ; yet when he draws to an execution, he fastens his sentence upon one evil as principal, others as accessaries; so as at the last, one sin, which perhaps we make no account of, shall pay for all.
The paganish idolatries of the Amalekites could not but be greater sins to God, than their hard measure to Israel ; yet God sets this upon the file, while the rest are not recorded. Their super- stitions might be of ignorance, this sin was of malice. Malicious wickednesses, of all others, as they are in greatest opposition to the goodness and mercy of God, shall be sure of the payment of greatest vengeance.
The detestation of God may be measured by his revenge ; Slay both man and woman, both infant and suckling, both ox and sheep, camel and ass ; not themselves only, but everything that drew life, either from them or for their use, must die. When the God of mercy speaks such bloody words, the provocation must needs be vehement. Sins of infirmity do but mutter; spiteful sins cry loud for judgment in the ears of God. Prepensed malice, in courts of human justice, aggravates the murder, and sharpens the sentence of death.
What then was this sin of Amalek, that is called unto this late reckoning? What? buttheir envious and unprovoked onsets upon the back of Israel : this was it, that God took so to heart, as that he not only remembers it now bv Samuel, but he bids Israel ever to remember it by Moses; Remember how Amalek met thee by the Way, and smote the hindmost of you, all that were feeble behind thee, when thou wast faint and weary. Besides this, did Amalek meet Israel in a pitched battle openly, in Rephidim; forthat, God paid them in the present: the hand of Moses lifted up on the hill slew them in the valley : he therefore repeats not that quarrel ; but the cowardly and cruel attempts upon an impotent enemy, stick still in the stomach of the Almighty. Oppression and wrong upon even terms are not so heinous unto God, as those that are Upon manifest disadvantage: in the one, there is a hazard of re- turn; in the other, there i:? ever a tyrannous insultation. Go J
304 CONTEMPLATIONS.
takes still the weaker part, and will be sure therefore to plague them, which seek to put injuries on the unable to resist.
This sin of Anialek slept all the time of the judges ; those gover- nors were only for rescue and defence ; now, so soon as Israel hath a king, and that king is settled in peace, God gives charge to call them to account. It was that, which God had both threatened and sworn ; and now he chooses out a fit season for the execution : as we use to say of winter, the judgments of God do never rot in the sky, but shall fall, if late, yet surely, yet seasonably. There is small comfort in the delay of vengeance, while we are sure it shall lose nothing in the way, by length of protraction.
The Kenites were the offspring of Hobab or Jethro, father-in- law to Moses. The affinity of him, to whom Israel owed their de- liverance and being, was worthy of respect ; but it was the mercy of that good and wise Midianite, shewed unto Israel in the wilder- ness, by his grave advice, cheerful gratulation, and aid, which won this grateful forbearance of his posterity. He, that is not less in mercy than in justice, as he challenged Amalek's sin of their suc- ceeding generations, so he derives the recompence of Jethro's kindness unto his far-descended issue. Those, that were unborn many ages after Jethro's death, receive life from his dust, and fa- vour from his hospitality. The name of their dead grandfather saves them from the common destruction of their neighbours. The services of our love to God's children are never thankless : when we are dead and rotten, they shall live and procure blessings to those, which never knew perhaps nor heard of their progenitors. If we sow good works, succession shall reap them, and we shall be happy in making them so.
The Kenites dwelt in the borders of Amalck, but in tents, as did their issue the Rechabites, so as they might remove with ease. They are warned to shift their habitations, lest they should perish with ill neighbours. It is the manner of God, first to separate before he judge ; as a good husbandman weeds his corn ere it be ripe for the sickle, and goes to the fan ere he go to the fire. When the Kenites pack up their fardels, it is time to expect judgment. Why should not we imitate God, and separate our- selves that we may not be judged ? separate, not one Kenite from another, but every Kenite from among the Amalekites ; else, if we will needs live with Amalek, we cannot think much to d e with him.
The Kenites are no sooner removed, than Saul falls upon the Amalekites. He destroys all the people, but spares their king. The charge of God was universal, for man and beast. In the corruption of partiality, lightly the greatest escape. Covetous- ness or misaftection are. commonly guilty of the impunity of those, which are at once more eminent in dignity and in offence. It is a shameful hypocrisy, to make our commodity the measure and rule of our execution of God's command; and, under pretence of godliness, to intend gain. The unprofitable vulgar must die ; Agag may yield a rich ransom. The lean and feeble cattle, that
SAUL AND AGAG. S05
tvouldbut spend stover, and die alone, shall perish by the sword of Israel ; the best may stock the grounds, and furnish the markets. O hypocrites, did God send you for gain, or for revenge ? Went you to be purveyors, or executioners ? If you plead, that all those wealthy herds had been but lost in a speedy death, think ye that he knew not this which commanded it ? Can that be lost, which is devoted to the will of the owner and Creator ? Or can ye think to gain any thing by disobedience ? That man can never either do well or fare well, which thinks there can be more profit in any thing than in his obedience to his Maker. Because Saul spared the best of the men, the people spared the best of the cattle : each is willing to favour other in the sin. The sins of the great command imitation, and do as seldom go without attendants as their persons.
Saul knew well how much he had done amiss, and yet dare meet Samuel, and can say, Blessed be thou of the Lord ; I have ful- filled the commandment of the Lord. His heart knew, that his tongue was as false as his hands had been ; and if his heart had not been more false than either of them, neither of them had been so gross in their falsehood. If hypocrisy were not either foolish or impudent, she durst not shew her head to a seer of God. Could Saul think that Samuel knew of the asses that were lost, and did not know of the oxen and sheep that were spared ? Coidd he foretel his thoughts, when it was, and now not know of his open actions ? Much less when we have to do with God himself, should dissimulation presume either of safety or secrecy. Can the God that made the heart not know it ? ('an he, that comprehends all things, be shut out of our close corners ? Saul was otherwise crafty enough, yet herein his simplicity is palpable. Sin can besot even the wisest man, and there was never but folly in wickedness.
No man brags so much of holiness, as he that wants it. True obedience is joined ever with humility, and fear of unknown er- rors. Falsehood is bold, and can say, / have fulfilled the command- ment of the Lord. If Saul had been truly obsequious and holy, he had made no noise of it. A gracious heart is not a blab of his tongue, but rests and rejoiceth silently in the conscience of a secret goodness. Those vessels yield most sound, that have the least liquor.
Samuel had reason to believe the sheep and oxen above Saul. Their bleating and lowing was a sufficient conviction of a denied and out-faced disobedience. God opened their mouths, to accuse Saul of their life and his falsehood ; but, as sin is crafty and never wanted a clokc wherewith both tohide and deck itself, even this very rebellion is holy. " First the act, if it were evil, was not mine but the people's ; and secondly, their intention makes it good, for these flocks and herds were preserved, not for gain but for devo- tion. AVhat needs this quarrel ? If any gain by this act, it is the Lord thy God. His altars shall smoke with these sacrifices ; ye, that serve at them, shall fare so much the better ; this godly thrifti- ness looks for thanks; rather than censure."
VOL. I, 2i
306 CONTEMPLATIONS.
If Sa'.il had been in Samuel's clothes, perhaps this answer would have satisfied him : surely, himself stands out in it, as that whereto he dares trust ; and after he hears of God's angry reproof, he avows and doubles his hold of his innocency ; as if the commanders should not answer for the known sins of the people; as if our intentions could justify us to God against God. How much ado is it to bring sinners upon their knees, and to make their tongues accuse their hands! But it is no halting with the maker of the heart. He knew it was covetousness, and not piety, which was accessary to this forbearance ; and if it had been as was pretended, he knew it was an odious impiety to raise devotion out of disobedience. Saul shall hear and find, that he hath dealt no less wickedly, in sparing an Agag, than in killing an innocent Israelite ; in sparing these beasts for sacrifice, than in sacrificing beasts that had been un- clean. Why was sacrifice itself good, but because it was com- manded ? What difference was there betwixt slaughter and sacri- fice, but obedience ? To sacrifice disobediently is wilfully to mock God in honouring him. 1 Sain, xv.
THE REJECTION OF SAUL, AND THE CHOICE OF
DAVID.
Even when Saul had abandoned God in disobedience, he would not forego Samuel ; yea, though he reproved him. When he had forsaken the substance, yet he would maintain the formality. If he cannot hold the man, he will keep the pledge of his garment : such was the violence of Saul's desire, that he will rather rend Samuel's coat, than part with his person. Little did Saul think, that he had in his hand the pawn of his own rejection ; that this act of kind im- portunity should carry in it a presage of his judgment, yet so it did : this very rending of the coat was a real prophecy, and did bode no less than the rending of the kingdom from him and his posterity. Wicked men, while they think by carnal means to make their peace, plunge themselves deeper into misery.
Any stander-bv would have said, " What a good king is this ! How dear is God's prophet unto him ? How happy is Israel in such a prince, as thus loves the messengers of God !" Samuel, that saw the bottom of his hollow affection, rejects him, whom God had rejected. He was taught to look upon Saul, not as a king, but as an offender ; and therefore refuses, with no less vehemency than Saul entreated. It was one thing, what he might do as a subject, another what he must do as a prophet. Now he knows not Saul any otherwise, than as so much the greater trespasser as his place Was higher ; and therefore he doth no more spare his greatness, than the God against whom he sinned: neither doth he counte- nance that man with his presence, on whom he sees God to frown.
There needs no other character of hypocrisy, than Saul, in the carriage of this one business with Agag and Samuel. First, he obeys God where there is no gain in disobedience ; then, he serves God by halves, and disobeys where the obedience might be loss.
THE REJECTION OF SAUL, AND CHOICE OF DAVID. 307
He gives God of tbe worst : he doth that in a colour, which might seem answerable to the charge of God. He respects persons in the execution. He gives good words, when his deeds were evil. He protests his obedience against his conscience. He faces out his protestation against a reproof. When he sees no remedy, he acknowledges the fact, denies the sin, yea he justifies the act by a profitable intention. When he can no longer maintain his inno- cence, he casts the blame from himself upon the people. He con- fesseth not, till the sin be wrung from his mouth. He seeks his ' peace out of himself; and relies more upon another's virtue, than his own penitency. He would cloke his guiltiness with the holiness of another's presence. He is more tormented with the danger and damage of his sin, than with the offence. He cares to hold in with men, in what terms soever he stands with God. He fashionably serves that God, whom he hath not cared to reconcile by his re- pentance. No marvel if God cast him off, whose best was dissimu- lation.
Old Samuel is forced to do a double execution, and that upon no less than two kings : the one upon Saul, in dividing the king- dom from him, who had divided himself from God ; the other upon Agag, in dividing him in pieces, whom Saul should have divided. Those holy hands were not used to such sacrifices ; yet did he ne- ver spill blood more acceptably. If Saul had been truly penitent, he had in a desire of satisfaction prevented the hand of Samuel in this slaughter ; now he coldly stands still, and suffers the weak hands of an aged prophet to be imbrued with that blood, which he was commanded to shed. If Saul might not sacrifice in the ab- sence of Samuel, yet Samuel might kill in the presence of Saul. He was yet a judge of Israel, although he suspended the execution: in Saul's neglect, this charge reverted to him. God loves just execu- tions so well, that he will hardly take them ill at any hand.
I do not find that the slaughter of Agag troubled Samuel : that other act of his severity upon Saul, though it drew no blood, yet struck him in the striking, and fetched tears from his eyes. Good Samuel mourned for him, that had not grace to mourn for himself. No man in all Israel might seem to have so much reason to rejoice in Saul's ruin as Samuel, since that he knew him raised up in despite of his government ; yet he mourns more for him, than he did for his sons, for himself. It grieved him to see the plant, which he had set in the garden of Israel, thus soon withered. It is an unnatural senselessness, not to be affected with the dangers, with the sins of our governors. God did not blame this sorrow, but moderated it ; How long wilt thon mourn for Saul? It was not the affection he forbade, but the measure. In this is the difference betwixt good men and evil, that evil men mourn not for their own sins, good men do so mourn for the sins of others that they will hardly be taken off.
If Samuel mourn, because Saul hath cast away God by hir sin, he must cease to mourn, because God hath cast away Saul from reign- ing over Israel, in his just punishjneAt. A good heart bath learnedr
30S CONTEMPLATIONS.
to rest itself upon the justice of God's decree, and forgets all earthly respects when it looks up to heaven. So did God mean to shew his displeasure against the person of Saul, that he would shew favour to Israel ; he will not therefore hereave them of a king, but change him for a better. Either Saul had slandered his people, or else they were partners with him in the disobedience ; yet, because it was their ruler's fault that they were not over-ruled, we do not hear of their smarting, any otherwise than in the subjection to such a king as was not loyal to God. The loss of Saul is their gain. The government of their first king was abortive: no marvel if it held not. Now was the maturity of that state ; and therefore God will bring them forth a kindly monarchy, settled where it should.
Kings are of God's providing : it is good reason he should make choice of his own deputies ; but where goodness meets with sove- reignty, both his right and his gift are doubled. If kings were merely from the earth, what needs a prophet to be seen in the choice or inauguration ?
The hand of Samuel doth not now bear the sceptre to rule Israel, but it bears the horn for the anointing of him that must rule. Saul was sent to him, when the time was to be anointed ; but now, he is sent to anoint David. Then, Israel sought a king for themselves ; now, God seeks a king for Israel. The prophet is therefore directed to the house of Jesse the Bethlehemite, the grandchild of Ruth. Now is the faithful love of that good Moabitess crowned with the honour of a kingdom, in the succeeding generation. God fetched her out of Moab, to bring a king unto Israel. While Orpah wants bread in her own country, Ruth is grown a great lady in Bethle- hem ; and is advanced to be great grandmother to the king of Israel. The retributions of God are bountiful : never any man forsook aught for his sake, and complained of a hard bargain.
Even the best of God's saints want not their infirmities. He, that never replied when he was sent to reprove the king, moveth doubts when he is bidden to go and anoint his successor. How can I go ? If Saul hear it, he will k ill me. Perhaps desire of full direction drew from him this question, but not without a mixture of diffi- dence ; for the manner of doing it, doth not so much trouble him as the success. It is not to be expected, that the most faithful hearts should be always in an equal height of resolution.
God doth not chide. -Samuel, but instruct him. He, which is isdom itself, teacheth him to hide his counsels in an honest po- ' ; Take an heifer with thee, and saij, I am come to do sacrifice i e Lord. This was to say true ; not to say all. Truth may nc crossed by denials or equivocations ; it may be concealed in a d. "et silence. Except in the case of an oath, no man is bound to sp . all he knows. We are not only allowed, but commanded, to be i gently serpentine.
Thei ere doubtless heifers enow in Bethlehem. Jesse had both wei and devotion enough, to have bestowed a sacrifice upon Gou d bis prophet ; but to give a more perfect colour to tlis intentioi. 'imuel must take a heifer with him. The act itself
c
THE REJECTION OF SAUL, AND CHOICE OF DAVID. 209
was serious and necessary. There was no place, no time, wherein it was not fit for a Samuel to offer peace-offerings unto God ; but when a king should be anointed, there was no less than necessity in this service. Those, which must represent God to the world, ought to be consecrated to that majesty whom they resemble, by public devotions. Every important action requires a sacrifice to bless it ; much more that act, which imports the whole church or commonwealth.
It was great news to see Samuel at Bethlehem. He was no gadder abroad : none but necessary occasions could make him stir from Ramah. The elders of the city therefore welcome him with trem- bling ; not for that they were afraid of him, but of themselves. They knew that guest would not come to them for familiarity : straight do they suspect it was the purpose of some judgment, that drew him thither ; Comest thou peaceably ?j Tt is a good thing, to stand in awe of God's messengers, and to hold good terms with them upon all occasions. The Bethlchemites are glad to hear of no other errand, but a sacrifice ; and now must they sanctify them- selves for so sacred a business. We may not presume to sacrifice., unto God unsanctified : this were to mar a holy act, and to make ourselves more profane, by profaning that which should be holy.
All the citizens sanctify themselves ; but Jesse and his sons were in a special fashion sanctified by Samuel. This business was most theirs, and all Israel in them. The more God hath to do with us, the more holy should we be.
With what desire did Samuel look upon the sons of Jesse, that he might see the face of the man whom God had chosen ! And now, when Eliab the eldest son came forth, a man of a goodly pre- sence, whose person seemed fit to succeed Saul, he thinks with himself, " This choice is soon made. I have already espied the head, on which I must spend this holy oil. This is the man, which hath both the privilege of nature in his primogeniture, and of outward goodliness in proportion. Surety, the Lord's anointed is before him.'''' Even the holiest prophet, when he goes without God, runs into error. The best judgment is subject to deceit. It is no trusting any mortal man, when he speaks of himself. Our eyes can be led by nothing but signs and appearances, and those have commonly in them, cither a true falsehood or uncertain truth.
That, which should have forewarned Samuel, deceived him. He, had seen the proof of a goodly stature unanswerable to their hopes, and yet his eye errs in the shape. He, that judgeth by tlie inside both of our hearts and actions, checks Samuel in this misconceit ; Look not on his countenance, nor on the height of his stature, be- cause J have refused him ; for God see/h vol as" man steth. The king, with whom God meant to satisfy the untimely desires of Is- rael, was chosen by his stature ; but the king, with whom God meant to please himself, is chosen by the heart.
All the seven sons of Jesse are presented to the prophet : no one is omitted, whom their father thought capable of any respect. *If cither Samuel or Jesse should have chosen, David "should never
310
CONTEMPLATIONS.
have been king. His father thought him fit to keep sheep, his brethren fit to rule men; yet even David, the youngest son, is fetched from the fold, and by the choice of God destined to the throne. Nature, which is commonly partial to her own, could not suggest aught to Jesse, to make him think David worthy to be re- membered in any competition of honour ; yet him hath God sin- gled out to rule.
God will have his wisdom magnified, in the unlikelihoods of his election. David's countenance was ingenuous and beautiful, but if it had promised so much as Eliab's or Abinadab's, he had not been in the fields, while his brethren were at the sacrifice. If we do altogether follow our eye, and suffer ourselves to be guided by outward respects, in our choice for God or ourselves, we cannot but go amiss.
What do we think the brethren of David thought, when they saw the oil poured upon his head ? Surely, as they were envious enough, they had too much repined, if they had either fully ap- prehended the purpose of the prophet, or else had not thought of some improbability in the success. Either they understood not, or believed not, what God would do with their brother. They saw him graced with God's Spirit above his wont, but perhaps foresaw not whither it tended. David, as no whit changed in his condi- tion, returns to his sheep again ; and with an humble admiration of God's gracious respect to him, casts himself upon the wise and holy decree of the Almighty, resigning himself to the disposition of those hands which had chosen him ; when suddenly a messen- ger is sent from Saul to call him in all haste, to that court whereof he shall once be master. The occasion is no less from God, than the event. 1 Sam. xvi.
DAVID CALLED TO THE COURT.
That the kingdom is, in the appointment of God, departed from Saul, it is his least loss : now the Spirit of God is also departed from him. One spirit is no sooner gone, but another is come ; both are from God : even the worst spirits have not only permis- sion, but commission from heaven, for the infliction of judgment. He, that at first could hide himself among the stuff, that he might not be king, is now so transported with this glory, that he grows passionate with the thought of foregoing it : Satan takes vantage of his melancholic dejection, and turns this passion into frenzy. God will have even evil spirits work by means : a distempered body and an iinquiet mind are fit grounds for Satan's vexation.
Saul's courtiers, as men that were more witty than religious, ad- vise him to music. They knew the strength of that skill, in al- laying the fury of passions, in cheering up the dejected spirits of their master. This was done like some fond chinngeon, that, when the bone is out of joint, lays some suppling poultices to the part,
DAVID CALLED TO THE COURT. 311
for the assuaging of the ache, in the mean time not caring to remedy the luxation.
If they had said, <£ Sir, you know this evil comes from that God whom you have offended : there can he no help hut in recon- cilement : how easy is it for the God of Spirits to take off Satan ! Labour your peace with him by a serious humiliation : make means to Samuel to further the atonement." they had been wise counsel- lors, divine physicians ; xvhereas now they do but skin over the sore, and leave it rankled at the bottom. The cure must ever pro- ceed in the same steps with the disease, else in rain shall we seem to heal. There is no safety in the redress of evils, but to strike at the root.
Yet since it is no better with Saul and his courtiers, it is well it is no worse. I do not hear either the master or servants say, " This is an ill spirit ; send for some magician, that may countermand him. There are forcible enchantments for these spiritual vexa- tions ; if Samuel will not, there are witches, that may give ease." But, as one that would rather be ill than do worse, he contents himself to do that, which was lawful, if insufficient. It is a shame to say, that he, whom God had rejected for his sin, was Vet a saint to some that should be Christians, who care not how much they are beholden to the devil in their distresses, affecting to cast out devils by Beelzebub. In cases of loss or sickness, thev make hell their refuge, and seek for patronage, but of an enemy. Here is a fearful agreement : Satan seeks to them in his temptations, they in their consultations seek to him ; and, now they have mutually found each other, if they ever part, it is a miracle.
David had lived obscurely in his father's house ; his only care and ambition was the welfare of the flock he tended ; and now, while his father and his brothers neglected him as fit for nothing but the field, he is talked of at the court. Some of Saul's followers had been at Jesse's house, and taken notice of David's skill ; and now, that harp, which he practised for his private recreation, shall make him of a shepherd a courtier. The music, that he meant only to himself and his sheep, brings him before kings. The wis- dom of God thought fit to take this occasion, of acquainting Da- vid with that court, which he shall once govern. It is good, that our education should perfect our children in all those commenda- ble qualities, whereto they are disposed. Little do we know, what use God means to make of those faculties, which we know not how to employ. Where the Almighty purposes an advancement, ob- scurity can be no prejudice. Small means shall set forward that, which God hath decreed.
Doubtless, old Jesse noted, not without admiration, the wonder- ful accordance of God's proceedings ; that he, which was sent for out of the field to be anointed, should now be sent for out of the country into the court ; and, now he perceived God was making- way for the execution of that which he purposed, he attends the issue in silence, neither shall his hand fail to give furtherance to tlie
312 CONTEMPLATIONS.
project of God. He therefore sends his son laden with a present to Saul.
The same God, which called David to the court, welcomes him thither. His comeliness, valour, and skill have soon won him fa- vour in the eyes of Saul. The giver of all graces hath so placed his favours, that the greatest enemies of goodness shall see some- what in the holiest men, which they shall affect, and for which they shall honour the persons of them, whose virtues they dislike ; as contrarily, the saints on earth see somewhat to love even in the worst creatures.
No doubt David sung to his harp : his harp was not more sweet, than his song was holy. Those psalms alone had been more power- ful to chase the evil spirit, than the music was to calm passions ; both together gave ease to Saul ; and God gave this effect to both, because he would have Saul train up his successor. This sacred music did not more dispel Satan, than wanton music invites him; and more cheers him, than us : he plays and danceth at a filthy song ; he sings at an obscene dance : our sin is his best pastime, whereas psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs are torments unto the tempter, and music to the angels in heaven, whose trade is to sing hallelujahs in the choir of glory. 1 Sam. xvi.
DAVID AND GOLIATH.
After the news of the Philistines' army, I hear no more mention of Saul's frenzy : whether the noise of war diverted those thought- ful passions ; whether God for his people's sake took off that evil spirit, lest Israel might miscarry under a frantic governor.
Now David hath leisure to return to Bethlehem. The glory of the court cannot transport him to ambitious vanity : he would ra- ther be his father's shepherd, than Saul's armour-bearer: all the magnificence and state which he saw, could not put his mouth out of the taste of a retired simplicity ; yea rather he loves his hook the better, since he saw the court ; and now his brethren serve Saul in his stead. A good heart hath learned to frame itself unto all conditions, and can change estates without change of disposi- tion, rising and falling according to occasion. The worldly mind can rise easily, but, when it is once up, knows not how to descend either with patience or safety.
Forty days together had the Philistines and Israelites faced each other. They pitched on two hills, one in the sight of the other; nothing but a valley was betwixt them. Both stand upon defence and advantage : if they had not meant to fight, they had never drawn so near ; and if they had been eager of light, a valley could not have parted them. Actions of hazard require deliberation : not fury, but discretion must be the guide of war.
So had Joshua destroyed the giantly Anakims out of the land of Israel, that yet some were left in Azzah, Gath, and Ashdod ; both, to shew Israel what adversaries their forefathers found in Canaan
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 313
and whom they mastered, as also that God might win glory to him- self by these subsequent executions. Of that race was Goliath, whose heart was as high as his head : his strength was answerable to his stature, his weapons answerable to his strength, his pride ex- ceeded all. Because he saw his head higher, his arms stronger, his sword and spear bigger, his shield heavier than any Israelite's, lie defies the whole host, and, walking between the two armies, braves all Israel with a challenge ; Why are ye come out, to set your battle in array f Am not I a Philistine, and you servants to Saul ? Choose you a man for you, and let him come doicn to me : give me a man, that t&e may Jig lit together. Carnal hearts are car- ried away with presumption of their own abilities; and, not finding matches to themselves in outward appearance, insult over the im- potency of inferiors ; and, as those that can see no invisible oppo* sition, promise themselves certainty of success. Insolence and self-confidence argues the heart to be nothing, but a lump of proud flesh.
The first challenge of duel that ever we find, came out of the mouth of an uncircumcised Philistine ; yet was that in open war, and tended to the saving of many lives, by adventuring one or two ; and whosoever irrtitatetb, nay surpasseth him in challenge to private duels, in the attempt partaketh of his uncircumcision, though he should overcome ; and of his manner of punishment, if in such private combats he cast away his life. For of all such de- sperate prodigals we may say, that their heads are cut off by their own sword, if not by their own hand.
We cannot challenge men, and not challenge God, who justly challengeth to himself both to take vengeance and to give success.
The more Goliath challenges and is unanswered, the more is he puffed up in the pride of his own power. ,And is there none of all Israel, that will answer this champion otherwise than with his heels ? Where is the courage of him, that was higher than all Is- rael from the shoulders upward ? The time was, when Nahash the Ammonite had made that tyrannous demand of the right eyes of the Gileadites, that Saul' could ask unasked, What aileth the peo- ple to xoeep ? and could hew his oxen in pieces to raise the spirits of Israel ; and now he stands still, and sees the host turn their back, and never so much as asks, " What aileth the people to fly ?V The time was, when Saul slew forty thousand Philistines in onedav, and perhaps Goliath was in that discomfiture; and now one Philistine is suffered by him to brave all Israel forty days. Whence is this dif- ference? The Spirit of God (the spirit of fortitude) was now departed from him. Saul was not more above himself, when God was with him, than he is below others, now that he is left of God.
Valour is not merely of nature : nature is ever like itself; by this rule, he, that is once valiant, should never turn coward : but now we see the greatest spirits inconstant ; and those, which have, given good proofs of magnanimity at other times, have bewrayed white livers unto their own reproach. He, that is the God of hosts, gives and takes away men's hearts at his pleasure. Neither is it
314 CONTEMPLATIONS.
otherwise in our spiritual combats : sometimes, the same soul dare challenge all the powers of darkness, which otherwhiles gives ground to a temptation. We have no strength, but what is given us ; and if the author of all good gifts remit his hand for our hu- miliation, either we fight not or are foiled.
David hath now lain long enough close amongst his flock in the fields of Bethlehem : God sees a time to send him to the pitched field of Israel. Good old Jesse, that was doubtless joyful to think, that he had afforded three sons to the wars of his king, is no less careful of their welfare and provision ; and who, amongst all the rest of his seven sons, shall be picked out for this service, but his youngest son David, whose former and almost worn out acquain- tance in court and employment under Saul, seemed to fit him best for this errand.
Early in the morning is David upon his way ; yet not so early, as to leave his Hock unprovided. If his father's command dismiss him, yet will he stay, till he have trusted his sheep with a careful keeper. We cannot be faithful shepherds, if our spiritual charge be less dear unto us ; if when necessity calls us from our flocks, we depute not those, which are vigilant and conscionable.
Ere David's speed can bring him to the valley of Elah, both the armies are on foot ready to join. He takes not this excuse to stay without, as a man daunted with the horror of war ; but leaving his present with his servant, he thrusts himself into the thickest of the host, and salutes his brethren which were now thinking of nothing but killing or dying, when the proud champion of the Philistines comes stalking forth before all the troops, and renews his insolent challenge against Israel. David sees the man, and hears his defiance, and looks about him to see what answer would be given ; and when he espies nothing but pale faces and backs turned, he wonders, not so much, that one man should dare all Israel, as that all Israel should run from one man.
Even when they fly from Goliath, they talk of the reward, that should be given to that encounter and victory, which they dare not undertake ; so those, which have not grace to believe, yet can say, " There is glory laid up for the faithful."
Ever since his anointing was David possessed with God's spirit, and thereby rilled both with courage and wisdom : the more strange, doth it seem to him, that all Israel should be thus dastardly. Those, that are themselves eminent in any grace, cannot but wonder at the miserable defects of others ; and the more shame they see in others' imperfections ,the more is their zeal in avoiding those errors in themselves.
While base hearts are moved by example, the want of example is encouragement enough for a heroical mind : therefore is David readv to undertake the quarrel, because no man else dare do it. His eyes sparkled with holy anger, and his heart rose up to his mouth, when he heard this proud challenger ; Who is this uncir- Oimcised Philistine, that he should revile the host of the living ipod f Even so. O Saviour, when all the generations of men ran
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 315
away affrighted from the powers of death and darkness, thou alone hast undertaken and confounded them.
Who should offer to daunt the holy courage of David, but his own brethren ! The envious heart of Eliab construes this forward- ness, as his own disgrace : " Shall I," thinks he, " be put down by this puisne ? Shall my father's youngest son dare to attempt that, which my stomach will not serve me to adventure ?" Now therefore he rates David for his presumption ; and instead of an- swering to the recompence of the victory, (which others were ready to give,) he recompenseth the very inquiry of David with a check. It was for his brethren's sake, that David came thither ; and yet his very journey is cast upon him by them, for a reproach ; Wherefore earnest thou down hither ? and when their bitterness can meet with nothing else to shame him, his sheep are cast in his teeth : " Is it for thee, an idle proud boy, to be meddling with our martial matters ? Doth not yonder champion look, as if he were a fit match for thee ? What makest thou of thyself, or what dost thou think of us? Ywis it were fitter for thee to be looking to thy sheep, than looking at Goliath ; the wilderness would become thee better than the field : wherein art thou equal to any man thou secst, but in arrogance and presumption ? The pastures of Beth- lehem could not hold thee, but thou thoughtest it a goodly matter to see the wars : I know thee, as if I were in thy bosom ; this was thy thought, ' There is no glory to be got among fleeces, I will go seek it in arms; now are my brethren winning honour in the troops of Israel, while I am basely tending on sheep ; why should not I be as forward as the best of them ?' This vanity would make thee straight of a shepherd, a soldier ; and of a soldier, a champion : get thee home, foolish stripling, to thy hook, .and thy harp : let swords and spears alone to those, that know how to use them."
It is quarrel enough amongst many to a good action, that it is not their own.
There is no enemy so ready, or so spiteful, as the domestic : the hatred of brethren is so much more, as their blood is nearer : the malice of strangers is simple, but of a brother is mixed with envy. The more unnatural any quality is, the more extreme it is: a cold wind from the south is intolerable.
David's first victory is of himself ; next, of his brother : he overcomes himself, in a patient forbearance of his brother; he overcomes the malicious rage of his brother, with the mildness of his answer. If David had wanted spirit, he had not been troubled with the insultation of a Philistine. If he had a spirit to match, Goliath, how doth he so calmly receive the affront of a brother? What have I now done ? Is there yiot a cause t That, which would have stirred the choler of another, allayeth his : it was a brother, that wronged him, and that his eldest •, neither was it time to quar- rel with a brother, while the Philistines' swords were drawn, and Goliath was challenging. Oh that these two motives could induce us to peace ! If we have injury in our person, in our cause, it is. from brethren, and the Philistines look on. I am deceived, if thliJ
316 CONTEMPLATIONS.
conquest were less glorious than the following. He is fit to be God's champion, that hath learned to be victor of himself.
It is not this sprinkling of cold water, that can quench the fire of David's zeal ; but still his courage sends up flames of desire ; still he goes on to inquire, and to proffer : he, whom the regard of others' envy can dismay, shall never do aught worthy of envy : never man undertook any exploit of worth, and received not soma discouragement in the way.
This courageous motion of David was not more scorned by his brother, than by the other Israelites applauded. The rumour flies to the ears of the king, that there is a young man desirous to en- counter the giant. David is brought forth.
Saul, when he heard of a champion, tliat durst go into the lists with Goliath, looked for one as much higher than himself, as he was taller than the rest. He expected some stern face and brawny arm : young and ruddy David is so far below his thoughts, that he re- ceives rather contempt, than thanks. His words were stout ; his person was weak. Saul doth not more like his resolution, than dis- trust his ability : Thou art not able to go against this Philistine, to Jight n ith him ; for thou art a boy, and he is a man of war from his youth. Even Saul seconds Eliab in the conceit of this dispa- rity* ; and if Eliab spake out of envy, Saul speaks out of judgment: both judge (as they were judged of) by the stature.
All this cannot weaken that heart, which receives his strength from faith. David's greatest conflict is with his friends. The overcoming of their dissuasions, that he might fight, was more work, than to overcome his enemy in fighting. He must first jus- tify his strength to Saul, ere he maj- prove it upon Goliath. Va- lour is never made good but by trial. He pleads the trial of his puissance upon the bear and the lion, that he may have leave to prove it upon a worse beast than they ; Thy se)-jant slew both the I ton and the bear ; therefore this uncircuma'sed Philistine shall be as one of them. Experience of good success is no small comfort to the heart : this gives possibility and hope, but, no cer- tainty.
Two things there were on which David built his confidence, on Goliath's sin, and God's deliverance; Seeing he hath railed on the host of the living God: the Lord, that delivered me out of the pans of the lion and the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine. "Well did David know, that if this Philistine's skin had been as hard as the brass of his shield, his sin would make it pene- trable by every stroke. After all brags of manhood, he is impo- tent that hath provoked God. While others labour for outward fortification, happy and safe were we, if we could labour for inno- cence. He, that hath found God present in one extremity, may trust him in the next. Every sensible favour of the Almighty in- vites both his gifts and our trust.
Resolution thus grounded makes even Saul himself confident : David shall have both his leave and his blessing. If David came to Saul as a shepherd, he shall go toward Goliath as a warrior : the
DAVID AND GOLIATH.
317
attire of the king is not too rich for liiin, that shall fight for his king and country. Little did Saul think, that his helmet was now on that head, which should once wear, his eroWri. Now that Da- vid was arrayed in the warlike habit of a king,- and girded with his sword, he looked upon himself, and thought this outside glorious ; but when he offered to walk, And found that the attire was not so strong as unwieldy, and that it might be more for shew. than use, he lays down these accoutrements of honour ; and, as earing rather to be a homely victor than a glorious spoil, he craves pardon to go in no clothes but his own: he takes his stafflnstead of the spear, his shepherd's scrip instead of his brigandine, and instead of his sword he takes his sling, and instead of darts and javelins he takes five smooth stones out of the brook. Let Saul's coat be never so rich, and his armour never so strong, what is David the better, if they fit him not ? It is not to be inquired, how excellent any thing is, but how proper. Those things, which are helps to some, may be incumbrances to others. An unmeet good may be as inconve- nient, as an accustomed evil. If we could wish another man's ho- nour, when we feel the weight of bis cares we should be glad to be in our own coat.
Those, that depend upon the strength of faith, though they neg- lect not means, yet they are not curious in the proportion of out- ward means to the effect desired. Where the heart is armed with an assured confidence, a sling and a stone are weapons enough : to the unbelieving, no helps arc sufficient. Goliath, though he were presumptuous enough, yet had one shield carried before him ; ano- ther he carried on his shoulder: neither will his sword alone con- tent him, but he takes his spear too. David's armour is his plain shepherd's russet, and the brook yields him his artillery ; and he knows, there is more safety in his cloth than in the other's brass, and more danger in his pebbles than the other's spear. Faith gives both heart and arms. The inward munition is so much more no- ble, because it is of proof for both soul and body : if we be fur- nished with this, how boldly shall we meet with the powers of dark- ness, and go away more than conquerors !
Neither did the quality of David's weapons bewray more confi- dence, than the number. If he will put his life and victory "upon the stones of the brook, why doth he not fill his scrip full of them ? Why will he content himself with five ? Had he been furnished with store, the advantage of his nimbleness might have given him hope ; if one fail, that yet another might speed : but now this pair- city purs the dispatch to a sudden hazard, and lie hath but five stones' cast, either to death or victory. Still the fewer helps, the stronger faith. David had an instinct from God, that he should overcome: he had not a particular direction, how he should over- come ; for had he been at first resolved upon the sling and stone, he had saved the labour of girding his sword. It seems, while they vvereaddressing him to the combat, he made account of hand-blows; now, he is purposed rather to send than bring death to his adver- sary : in either, or both, he durst trust God with the success, and before-hand, through the conliiet, saw the victory. It is sufficient,
318 CON'TE MPLAT10KS.
that we know the issue of our fight. It" our weapons and wards vary according to the occasion given hy God, that is nothing to the event ; sure we are, that it* we resist we shall overcome, and if we overcome we shall be crowned.
When David appeared in the lists to so unequal an adversary, as many eyes were upon him, so in those eyes divers affections. The Israelites looked upon him with pity and fear, and each man thought, " Alas ! why is this comely stripling suffered to cast away himself upon such a monster ? Why will they let him go unarmed to such an affray ? Why will Saul hazard the honour of Israel on so unlikely a head ?" The Philistines, especial- ly their great champion, looked upon him with scorn, disdaining so base a combatant ; Am I a dog, that thou contest t& me with ■ staves f What could be said more fitly ? Hadst thou been any other than a dog, O Goliath, thou hadst never opened thy foul mouth to bark against the host of God, and the God of Hosts: if David had thought thee any other than a very dog, he had never come to thee with a staff and a stone.
The last words, that ever the Philistine shall speak, are curses1 and brags ; Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the heaven, and the beasts of the field. Seldom ever was there a good end of ostentation. Presumption is, at once, the presage and cause of ruin.
He is a weak adversary, that can be killed with words. That man, which could not fear the giant's hand, cannot fear bis tongue. If words shall first encounter, the Philistine receives the first foil, and shall first let in death into his ear, ere it enter into his fore- head ; Thou contest to me with a sword, and a spear, and a shield ; but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the host of Israel, whom thou hast railed upon : this day shall the Lord close thee in my hand, and I shall smite thee, and take thine head from thee. Here is another style, not of a boaster, but of a prophet : now shall Goliath know, whence to expect his bane, even from the hands of a revenging God, that shall smite him by David ; and now shall learn too late, what it is to meddle with an enemy, that goes under the invisible protection of the Almighty.
No sooner hath David spoken, than his foot and hand second his tongue. He runs to fight with the Philistine. It is a cold courage, that stands only upon defence. As a man, that saw no cause of fear and was full of the ambition of victory, he flies upon that mon- ster, and with a stone out of his bag smites him in the forehead. There was no part of Goliath that was capable of that danger, but the face, and that piece of the face ; the rest was defended with a brazen wall, which a weak sling would have tried to batter in vain. What could Goliath fear, to see an adversary come to him without edge or point ? And behold, that one part hath God found out for the entrance of death : he, that could have caused the stone to pass through the shield and breast-plate of Goliath, rather directs the stone to that part, whose nakedness gave advantage. Where there is power or possibility of nature, God uses not to work miracles, but causes the way that lies most open to his purposes.
Jonathan's love, and saul's envy. 31^
The vast forehead was a fair mark ; but how easily might the sling have missed it, if there had not been another hand in this cast besides David's! He, that guided David into this field, and raised his courage to this combat, guides the stone to his end, and lodges it in that seat of impudence.
There nowlieth the great deher of Israel, grovelling and grinning in death ; and is not suffered to deal one blow for his life ; and bites the unwelcome earth for indignation, that he dies by the hand of a shepherd. Earth and hell share him betwixt them: such is the end of insolence and presumption ! O God, what is flesh and blood to thee, which canst make a little pebble-stone stronger than a giant ; and when thou wilt, by the weakest means canst strew thine ene- mies in the dust ?
Where now are the two shields of Goliath, that they did not bear off this stroke of death? or wherefore serves that weaver's beam, but to strike the earth in falling ? or that sword, but to behead his master ? What needed David load himself with an unnecessary wea- pon ? one sword can serve both Goliath and him. If Goliath had a man to bear his shield, David had Goliath to bear his sword, where- with that proud blasphemous head is severed from his shoulders. Nothing more honours God, than the turning of wicked men's forces against themselves. There are none of his enemies, but car- ry with them their own destruction. Thus didst thou, O Son of David, foil Satan with his own weapon : that, whereby he meant destruction to thee and us, vanquished him through thy mighty power, and raised thee to that glorious triumph and superexalta- tion, wherein thou art, wherein we shall be with thee.
1 Sam. xviL
JONATHAN'S LOVE, AND SAUL'S ENVY.
Besides the discomfiture of the Philistines, David's victory had a double issue ; Jonathan's love, and Saul's envy, which God so mix- ed, that the one was a remedy of the other. A good son makes amends for a wayward father.
How precious was that stone, that killed such an enemy as Go- liath, and purchased such a friend as Jonathan ! All Saul's courtiers looked upon David, none so affected him, none did match him but Jonathan. That true correspondence, that was both in their faith and valour, hath knit their hearts : if David did set upon a bear, a lion, a giant ; Jonathan had set upon a whole host, and prevailed : the same spirit animated both, the same faith incited both, the same hand prospered both.
All Israel was not worth this pair of friends, so zealously confi- dent, so happily victorious. Similitude of dispositions and estates ties the fastest knots of affection. A wise soul hath piercing eyes, and hath quickly discerned the likeness of itself in another ; as we do no sooner look into the glass or water, but face answers to luce ; and where it sees a perfect .resemblance of itself, cannot
320
CONTEMPLATION'S.
chuse but love it with the same affection, that it reflects upon itself.
No man saw David that day, which had so much cause to disaf- fect him : none in all Israel should be a loser by David's success, but Jonathan. Saul was sure enough settled for his time, only his successor should forego all that, which David should oain ; so as none but David stands in Jonathan's light, and yet all this cannot abate one jot or dram of his love. Where God uniteth hearts, carnal respects are too weak to dissever them ; since that, which breaks off affection, must needs be stronger than that which con- joineth it.
Jonathan doth not desire to smother his love by concealment, but professes it in his carnage and actions. He puts off the robe that was upon him, and all his garments even to his sword, and bow. and girdle, and gives them unto his new friend. It was per- haps not without a mystery, that Saul's clothes fitted not David, but .Jonathan's fitted him, and these he is as glad to wear, as he was to be disburthened of the other : that there might be a perfect resemblance, their bodies are suited, as well as their hearts. Now the beholders can say, " There goes Jonathan's other self ; if there be another body under those clothes, there is the same soul."
Now David hath cast off his russet coat and his scrip,, and is a shepherd no more ; he is suddenly become both a courtier, and a captain, and a companion to the prince ; yet himself is not changed with his habit, with his condition : yea rather, as if his wisdom had reserved itself for his exaltation, he so manageth a sudden great- ness, as that he winneth all hearts. Honour shews the man ; and if there be any blemishes of imperfection, they will be seen in the man that is unexpectedly lifted above his fellows. He is out of the danger of folly, whom a speedy advancement leaveth wise.
Jonathan loved David ; the soldiers honoured him ; the court favoured him ; the people applauded him ; only Saul stomached it, and therefore hated him, because he was so happy in all besides himself. It had been a shame for all Israel, if they had not mag- nified their champion. Saul's own heart could not but tell him, that they did owe the glory of that day, and the safety of himself and Israel, unto the sling of David, who in one man slew all those thousands at a blow. It was enough for the puissant king of Israel, to follow the chase, and to kill them whom David had put to flight ; yet he, that could lend his clothes and his armour to this exploit, cannot abide to part with the honour of it to him that had earned it so dearly. The holy songs of David had not more qui- eted his spirits before, than now the thankful song of the Israelitish women vexes him : one little ditty , of Said hath slain his thou- sand, and David his ten thousand, sung unto tiie timbrels of Is- rael, fetched again that evil spirit, which David's music had ex- pelled.
Saul needed not the torment of a worse spirit than envy. Oh the unreasonableness of this wicked passion ! The women gave Saul more, and David less, than he deserved ; for Saul alone could
Jonathan's love, and sAul's envy. 321
not kill a thousand, and David, in that one act of killing Goliath, slew, in effect, all the Philistines that were slain that day ; and yet, because they give more to David than to himself, he, that should have indited and begun that song of thankfulness, repines and grows novr as mad with envy, as he was before with grief. Truth and justice are no protection against malice. Envy is blind to all objects, save other men's happiness. If the eyes of men could be contained within their own bounds, and not rove forth into comparisons, there could be no place for this vicious affection ; but when they have once taken this lawless scope to themselves, they lose the knowledge of home, and care only to be employed abroad in their own torment.
Never was Saul's breast so fit a lodging for the evil spirit, as now, that it is dressed up with envy. It is as impossible, that hell should be free from devils, as a malicious heart.
Now doth the frantic king of Israel renew his old fits, and walks and talks distractedly. He was mad with David, and who but David must be called to allay his madness ? Such as David's wisdom was, he could not but know the terms, wherein he stood with Saul ; yet, in lieu of the harsh and discordant notes of his master's envy, he returns pleasing music unto him. He can never be a good cour- tier, nor good man, that hath not learned to repay, if not injuries with thanks, yet evil with good.
While there was a harp in David's hand, there was a spear in Saul's, wherewith he threatens death as the recompence of that sweet melody : he said, / will smite David through to the wall. It is well for the innocent, that wicked men cannot keep their own counsel. God fetcheth their thoughts out of their mouths or their countenance, for a seasonable prevention, which else might proceed to secret execution. It was time for David to withdraw himself : his obedience did not tie him to be the mark of a furious master : he might ease Saul with his music, with his blood he might not. Twice therefore doth he avoid the presence, not the court, not the service, of Saul.
One would have thought rather, that David should have been afraid of Saul because the devil was so strong with him, than that Saul should be afraid of David because the Lord was with him ; yet we find all the fear in Saul of David, none in David of Saul. Hatred and fear are ordinary companions. David had wisdom and faith, to dispel his fears ; Saul had nothing but infidelity, and de- jected, self-condemned, distempered thoughts, which must needs nourish them ; yet Saul could not fear any hurt from David, whom he found so loyal and serviceable : he fears only too much good unto David ; and the envious fear is much more than the distrust- ful : now David's presence begins to be more displeasing, than his music was sweet ; despight itself would rather prefer him to a re- mote dignity, than endure him a nearer attendant : this promotion increaseth David's honour and love ; and his love and honour ag- gravate Saul's hatred gad fear,
VOL, I. Y
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
Saul's madness hath not bereaved him of his craft ; for, perceiv- ing how great David was grown in the reputation of Israel, he dares not offer any personal or direct violence to him, but hires him in- to the jaws of a supposed death, bv no less price than his eldest daughter ; Behold mine eldest daughter Merab : her will 1 give thee to wife ; only be a valiant son tome, and fght the Lord's bat- tles. Could ever man speak more graciously; more holily ? What could be more graciously offered by a king, than his eldest daugh- ter ? What care could be more holy, than of the Lord's battles ? yet never did iSaul intend so much mischief to David, or so much unfaithfulnesstoGod,as when he spake thus. There is never so much danger of the false-hearted, as when they make the fairest wea- ther. Saul's spear bade David be gone ; but his plausible words invite him to danger.
This honour was due to David before, upon the compact of his victory ; yet he, that twice inquired into the reward of that enter- prise before he undertook it, never demanded it after that achievement ; neither had Saul the justice to offer it, as a recom- pence of so noble an exploit, but as a snare to an envied victory; Charity suspects not : David construes that, as an effect and argu- ment of his master's love, which was no other but a child of envy, but a plot of mischief; and though he knew his own desert and the justice of his claim to Merab, yet he in a sincere humility dispa- rageth himself and his parentage, with a Who am I?
As it was not the purpose of this modesty in David, to reject, but to solicit the proffered favour of Saul ; so was it not in the power of this bashful humiliation, to turn back the edge of so keen an envy. It helps not, that David makes himself mean, while others magnify his worth. Whatsoever the colour was, Saul meant nothing to David but danger and death ; and since all those battles will not effect that which he desired, himself will not effect that which he promised. If he cannot kill David, he will disgrace him.
David's honour was Saul's disease : it was not likely therefore, that Saul would add unto that honour, whereof he was so sick al- ready. Merab is given unto another ; neither do I hear David complain of so manifest an injustice: he knew, that the God, whose battles he fought, had provided a due reward of his patience. If Merab fail, God hath a Michal in store for him : she is in love with David : his comeliness and valour have so won her heart, that she now emulates the affection of her brother Jonathan. If she be the younger sister, yet she is more affectionate.
Saul is glad of the news: his daughter could never live to do him better service, than to be a new snare to his adversary : she shall be therefore sacrificed to his envy, and her honest and sincere love shall be made a bait for her worthy and innocent husband ; / will give him her, that she may be a snare unto him, that the hand of the Philistines may be against kirn. The purpose of any favour ia more than the value of it. Kven the greatest honours may be given with an intent of destruction. Many a man is raised up for a fall.
michal's wil£. 323 So forward is Saul in the match, that he sends spokesmen to so- licit David to that honour, which he hopes will prove the highway to death. The dowry is set ; a hundred foreskins of the Philis- tines ; not their heads, but their foreskins, that this victory might be more ignominious ; still thinking, " Why may not one David miscarry, as weD as a hundred Philistines ?"
And what doth Saul's envy all this while, but enhance David's zeal, and valour, and glory ? That good captain, little imagining that himself was the Philistine whom Saul maligned, supererogates of his master, and brings two hundred for one ; and returns home safe, and renowned. Neither can Saul now fly off for shame : there is no remedy, but David must be a son, where he was a rival; and Saul must feed upon his own heart, since he cannot see David's. God's blessing graces equally together with men's malice ; neither can they devise, which way to make us more happy, than by wish- ing us evil. 1 Sam. xviii.
MICHAL'S WILE.
This advantage can Saul yet make of David's promotion ; that, as his adversary is raised higher, so he is drawn nearer to the oppor- tunity of death. Now hath his envy cast off all shame ; and since those crafty plots succeed not, he directly suborns murderers of his rival. There is none in all the court, that is not set on to be an executioner. Jonathan himself is solicited to imbrue his hand in the blood of his friend, of his brother. Saul could not but see Jo- nathan's clothes on David's back ; he could not but know the league of their love ; yet because he knew withal, how much the prosperi- ty of David would prejudice Jonathan, he hoped to have found him his son in malice. Those, that have the jaundice, see all things yellow : those, which are overgrown with malicious passions, think all men like themselves.
I do not hear of any reply that Jonathan made to his father, when he gave him that bloody charge ; but he waits for a fit time, to dissuade him from so cruel an injustice. Wisdom had taught him to give way to rage, and in so hard an adventure to crave aid of opportunity. If we be not careful to observe good moods when we deal with the passionate, we may exasperate instead of reform- ing. Thus did Jonathan, who, knowing how much better it is to be a good friend than an ill son, had not only disclosed that ill counsel, but, when he found his father in the fields in a calmer temper, laboured to divert it : and so far doth the seasonable and pithy oratory of Jonathan prevail, that Saul is convinced of his wrong, and swears, as God lives, David shall not die •, indeed how could it be otherwise, upon the plea of David's innocence and well deservings ? How could Saul say he should die, whom he could ac- cuse of nothing but faithfulness ? Why should he design him to death, which had given life to all Israel ?
Oft-times wicked men's judgments are forced to yield unto that
324
C0NTEMP1.ATI0NS.-
truth, against which their affections maintain a rebellion. Even the. foulest liearts do sometimes entertain good motions ; like as, on the contrary, the holiest souls give way sometimes to the sugges- tions of evil. The flashes of lightning may be discerned in the darkest prisons. But if good thoughts look into a wicked heart, they stay not there as those that like not their lodging; they are soon gone. Hardly any thing distinguishes betwixt good and evil, but continuance. The light that shines into a holy heart is con- stant, like that of the sun, which keeps due times, and varies not his course for any of these sublunary occasions.
The Philistines' wars renew Davicrs victories ; and David's vic- tory renews Saul's envy ; and Saul's envy renews the plots of Da- vid's death. Vows and oaths are forgotten. That evil spirit, which vexes Saul, hath found so much favour with him, as to win him to these bloody machinations against an innocent. His own hands shall first be employed in this execution. The spear, which hath twice before threatened death to David, shall now once again go upon that message. Wise David, that knew the danger of a hollow friend and reconciled enemy, and that found more cause to mind Saul's earnest than his own play, gives way by his nimble- ness to that deadly weapon ; and, resigning that stroke unto the wall, flies for his life. No man knows how to be sure of an unconscion- able man. If either goodness, or merit, or affinity, or reasons, or oaths could secure a man, David had been safe ; now, if his heels do not more befriend him than all these, he is a dead man. No sooner is he gone, than messengers are sped after him. It hath been seldom seen, that wickedness wanted executioners. David's house is beset with murderers, which watch at all his doors for the opportunity of blood.
Who can but wonder, to see how God hath fetched from the loins of Saul a remedy for the malice of Saul's heart ? His own children are the only means to cross him in the sin, and to preserve his guiltless adversary. Michal hath more than notice of the plot; and, with her subtle wit, countermines her father, for the rescue of a husband. She, taking the benefit of the night, lets David down through a window : he is gone ; and disappoints the am- bushes of Saul. The messengers begin to be impatient of this de- lay ; and now think it time to inquire after their prisoner. She whiles them off, with the excuse of David's sickness, so as now her husband had good leisure for his escape, and lays a statue in his bed. Saul likes the news of any evil befallen to David ; but, fear- ing he is not sick enough, sends to aid his disease. The messengers return ; and, rushing into the house with their swords drawn, after some harsh words to their imagined charge, surprise a sick statue lying with a pillow under his head ; and now blush to see they have spent all their threats upon a senseless stock, and made themselves ridiculous, while they would be serviceable.
But how shall Michal answer this mockage unto her furious fa- ther? Hitherto she hath done like David's wife ; now she begins to be Saul's daughter; Jh mid tome> Let me goy or else 1 will kill thee.
michal' s wile. 325 £he, whose wit had delivered her husband from the sword of her fa- ther, now turns the edge of her father's wrath from herself to her husband. His absence made her presume of his safety. If Michal had not been of Saul's plot, he had never expostulated with her in those terms, Why hast thou let mine enemy escape ? neither had she framed that answer, He said, Let me go.
I do not find any great store of religion in Michal ; for both she had an image in the house, and afterward mocked David for his devotion : yet nature hath taught her to prefer a husband to a fa- ther ; to elude a father, from whom she could not fly ; to save a hus- band, which durst not but fly from her. The bonds of matrimonial love are and should be stronger than those of nature. Those re- spects are mutual, which God appointed in the first institution of wedlock, that husband and wife should leave father and mother for each other's sake. Treason is ever odious ; but so much more iu the marriage-bed, by how much the obligations are deeper.
As she loved her husband better than her father, so she loved her- self better than her husband. She saved her husband by a wile, and now she saves herself by a lie ; and loses half the thank of her deli- verance, by an officious slander. Her act was good, but she wants courage to maintain it; and therefore seeks to the weak shelter of untruth. Those that do good offices, not out of conscience but good nature or civility, if they meet an affront of danger seldom come off cleanly, but are ready to catch at all excuses, though base, though injurious ; because their grounds are not strong enough to bear them out in suffering for that, which they have Well done.
Whither doth David fly, but to the sanctuary of Samuel ? he doth not (though heknew himself gracious with the soldiers) raise forces, or take some strong fort, and there stand upon his own defence, and at defiance with his king ; but he gets him to the college of the pro^ phets, as a man that would seek the peaceable protection of the King of Heaven against the un just fury of a king on earth : only the wing of God shall hide him from that violence.
God intended to make David, not a warrior and a king only, but a prophet too : as the field fitted him for the first, and the court for the second, so Naioth shall fit him for the third. Doubtless (such was David's delight in holy meditations) he never spent his time so contentedly, as when he was retired to that divine academy, and had so full freedom to enjoy God, and to satiate himself with heavenly exercises. The only doubt is, how Samuel can give harbour to a man fled from the anger of his prince ; wherein, the very persons of both give abundant satisfaction : for both Samuel knew the counsel of God, and durst do nothing without it ; and David was by Samuel anointed from God.
This unction was a mutual bond. Good reason had David to sue him, which had poured the oil on his head, for the hiding of that, head which he had anointed ; and good reason had Samuel to hide him, whom God by his means had chosen, from him whom God had by his sentence rejected ; besides that, the cause deserved com- miseration : here was not a malefactor running away from justice,
326 CONTEMPLATIONS.
but an innocent avoiding murder ; not a traitor countenanced against his sovereign, but the deliverer of Israel harboured in a sanc- tuary of prophets till his peace might be made.
Even thither doth Saul send to apprehend David. All his rage did not incense him against Samuel as the abettor of his adversary : such an impression of reverence had the person and calling of the prophet left in the mind of Saul, that he cannot think of lifting up his hand against him. The same God, which did at the first put an awe of man in the fiercest creatures, hath stamped in the cruellest hearts a reverent respect to his own image in his ministers; so as even they that hate them, do yet honour them.
Saul's messengers came to lay hold on David ; God lays hold on them. No sooner do they see a company of prophets busy in those divine exercises, under the moderation of Samuel, than they are turned from executioners to prophets. It is good going up to Nai- oth, into the hoi}7 assemblies : who knows how we may be changed beside our intention ? Many one hath come into God's house to carp, or scoff, or sleep, or gaze, that hath returned a convert.
The same heart, that was thus disquieted with David's happy suc- cess, is now vexed with the holiness of his other servants. It an-
fers him, that God's Spirit could find no other time to seize upon is agents, than when he had sent them to kill : and now, out of" an indignation at this disappointment, himself will go and be his own servant. His guilty soul finds itself out of the danger of being thus surprised ; and behold, Saul is no sooner come within the smell of the smoke of Naioth, than he also prophesies. The same Spirit, that, when he went first from Samuel, enabled him to prophesy, re- turns in the same effect now that he was going (his last) unto Sa- muel. This was such a grace as might well stand with rejection ; an extraordinary gift of the Spirit, but not sanctifying. Many men have had their mouths opened to prophesy unto others, whose hearts have been deaf to God ; but this, such as it was, was far from Saul's purpose, who, instead of expostulating with Samuel, falls down be- fore him ; and laying aside his weapons and his robes, of a tyrant proves, for the time, a disciple. All hearts are in the hand of their Maker. How easy is it for him that gave them their being, to frame them to his own bent ! Who can be afraid of malice, that knows what hooks God hath in the nostrils of men and devils ? what charms he hath for the most serpentine hearts ? 1 Sam. xix.
DAVID AND AHIMELF.CH. Who can ever judge of the children by the parents, that knows Jo- nathan was the son of Saul ? There was never a falser heart than .Saul's; there was never a truer friend than Jonathan. Neither the hope of a kingdom, nor the frowns of a father, nor the fear of death, can remove him from his vowed amity. No son could be more offi- cious and dutiful to a good father ; yet he lays down nature at the foot of grace, and, for the preservation of his innocent rival for the kingdom, crosses the bloody designs of his own parent. David
DAVID AND A HI ME LECH. 321
needs no other counsellor, no other advocate, no other intelligencer, than he. It is not in the power of Saul's unnatural reproaches, or of his spear, to make Jonathan any other than a friend and patron of innocence. Even after all these difficulties, doth Jonathan shoot beyond David, that Saul may shoot short of him. In vain are those professions of love, which are not answered with action. He is no true friend, that, beside talk, is not ready both to do and suffer.
Saul is no whit the better for his prophesying. He no sooner rises up from before Samuel, than he pursues David. Wicked men are rather the worse, for those transitory good motions they have received. If the swine be never so clean washed, she will wallow a- gain. That we have good thoughts, it is no thank to us ; that we answer them not, it is both our sin and judgment.
David hath learned, not to trust these fits of devotion ; but flies from Samuel to Jonathan, from Jonathan to Ahimelech. When he was hunted from the prophet, he flies to the priest ; as one that knew justice and compassion should dwell in those breasts, which are con- secrated unto God.
The ark and the tabernacle were then separated ; the ark was at Kirjathjearim, the tabernacle at Nob. God was present with both. Whither should David fly for succour, but to the House of that God which had anointed him ?
Ahimelech was wont to see David attended with the troops of Is- rael, or with the gallants of the court ; it seems strange therefore to him, to see so great a peer and champion of Israel come alone. These are the alterations to which earthly greatness is subject. Not many days are past, since no man was honoured at court but Jona- than and David ; now they are both for the time in disgrace : now dare not the king's son-in-law, brother to the prince both in love and marriage, shew his head at the court ; nor any of those that bowed to him, dare stir a foot with him. Princes are as the sun, and great subjects are like to dials; if the sun shine not on the dial, no man will look at it.
Even he, that overcame the bear, the lion, the giant, is overcome with fear. He, that had cut off two hundred fore-skins of the Phi- listines, had not circumcised his own heart of the weak passions that follow distrust. Now that he is hard driven, he practises to help himself with an unwarrantable shift. Who can look to pass this
{)ilgrimage without infirmities, when David dissembleth to Ahime- ech ? A weak man's rules may be better than the best man's actions. God lets us see some blemishes in his holiest servants, that we may neither be too highly conceited of flesh and blood, nor too much dejected when we have been miscarried into sin. Hitherto hath David gone upright, now he begins to haK with the priest of God ; and, under pretence of Saul's employment, draws that favour from Ahimelech which shall afterwards cost him his head.
What could Ahimelech ha ve thought too dear for God's anointed, for God's champion ? It is not like, but that if David had sincerely opened himself to the priest as he had done to the prophet, Ahime- lech would have seconded Samuel in some secret and safe succour
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
of so unjust a distress ; whereas he is now, by a false colour, led te that kindness which shall be prejudicial to his life. Extremities of evil are commonly inconsiderate ; either for that we have not lei- sure to our thoughts, or perhaps (so we may be perplexed) not thoughts to our leisure. What would David have given afterwards, to have redeemed this oversight ?
Under this pretence, he craves a double favour of Ahimelech ; the one of bread for his sustenance, the other of a sword for his de- fence.
There was no bread under the hands of the priest, but that which was consecrated to God ; and whereof none might taste, but the de- voted servants of the altar ; even that, which was with solemn dedi- cation set upon the holy tables before the face of God ; a sacramen- tal bread, presented to God with incense, figuring that true bread that came down from Heaven : yet even this bread might, in case of necessity, become common, and be given by Ahimelech, and re- ceived by David and his followers. Our Saviour himself justifies the act of both. Ceremonies must give place to substance. God will have mercy and not sacrifice. Charity is the sum and the end of the law : that must be aimed at, in all our actions ; wherein it may fall out, that the way to keep the law may be to break it : the intention may be kept, and the letter violated ; and it may be a dangerous transgression of the law, to observe the words and neglect the scope of God. That, which would have dispensed with David for the sub- stance of the act, would have much more dispensed with him for the circumstance. The touch of their lawful wives had contracted a legal impurity, not a moral. That could have been no sufficient reason, why, in an urgent necessity, they might not have partaken of the holy bread. Ahimelech was no perfect casuist. These men might not famish, if they were ceremonially impure : but this ques- tion bewraved the care of Ahimelech in distributing the holy bread. There might be in these men a double incapacity, the one as they were seculars, the other as unclean : he saw the one must be, he feared lest the other should be ; as one that wished as little indis- position, as possible might be, in those which should be fed from God's table.
It is strange, that David should come to the priest of God for a sword. Who, in all Israel, was so unlikelv to furnish him with wea- pons, as a man of peace, whose armour was onlv spiritual ? Doubt- less, David knew well where Goliath's sword lay ; as the noble relic of God's victorious deliverance, dedicated to tbe same God which won it : at this, did that suit aim : none could be so fit for David ; none could be so fit for it as David. Who could have so much right to that sword, as he against whom it was drawn, and by whom it was taken ? There was more in that sword, than metal and form : David could never cast his eye upon it, but he saw an undoubted monument of the merciful protection of the Almighty ; there was therefore more strength in that sword, than sharpness: neither was David's arm so much strengthened bv it, as his faith ; nothing can overcome hiui, while he carries with him that assured sign of victory. It is
DAVID AND AHIMELECH. 329
good to take all occasions, of renewing the remembrance of God's mercies to us, and our obligations to him.
Doeg, tlx: master of Saul's herdmen, (for he that went to seek his father's asses before he was king, hath herds and droves now that he is a king,) was now in the court of the tabernacle, upon some oc- casion of devotion. Though an Israelite in profession, he was an Edomite no less in heart than in blood ; yet he hath some vow upon him, and not only comes up to God's house, but abides before the Lord. Hypocrites have equal access to the public places and means of God's service. Even he, that knows the heart, yet shuts his doors upon none ; how much less should we dare to exclude any, which can only judge of the heart by the face ?
Doeg may set his foot as far within the tabernacle, as David. He sees the passages betwixt him and Aliimelech, and lays them up for an advantage. While he should have edified himself by those holy services, he carps at the priest of God ; and, after a lewd misinter- pretation of his actions, of an attendant, proves an accuser. To in- cur favour with an unjust master, he informs against innocent Alii- melech ; and makes that his act, which was drawn from him by a cunning circumvention. When we see our auditors before us, little do we know with what hearts they are there, nor what use they will make of their pretended devotion. If many come in simplicity of heart to serve their God , some others may perhaps come to observe their teachers, and to pick quarrels where none are. Only God and the issue can distinguish betwixt a David and a Doeg, when they are both in the tabernacle.
Honest Ahimelech could little suspect, that he now offered a sa- crifice for his executioner ; yea, for the murderer of all his family. Oh the wise and deep judgments of the Almighty ! God owed a re- venge to the house of Eli ; and now, by the delation of Doeg, he takes occasion to pay it. It was just in God, which in Doeg was most unjust. Saul's cruelty and the treachery of Doeg do not lose one dram of their guilt by the counsel of God ; neither doth the holv counsel of God gather any blemish by their wickedness. If it had pleased God to indict death upon them sooner, without any pretence of occasion, his justice had been clear from all imputa- tions ; now, if Saul and Doeg be instead of a pestilence or fever, who can cavil ? The judgments of God are not open, but are always just. He knows how, by one man's sin to punish the sin of another, and by both their sins and punishments to glorify himself. If his word sleep, it shall not die ; but, after long intermissions, breaks forth in those effects, which we had forgotten to look for, and ceased to fear. O Lord, thou art sure when thou threatenest, and just when thou judgest. Keep thou us from the sentence of death, else in vain shall we labour to keep ourselves from the execution.
1 Samuel xxi.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XIV.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, AND MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,
PHILIP, EARL OF MONTGOMERY,
ONE Or THE GENTLEMEN OF HIS MAJESTY'S BED-CHAMBER, AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST HONOURABLE ORDER OF THE GARTER.
RIGHT HONOURABLE :
After some unpleasing intermissions, I return to that task of Contemplation, wherein only my soul Jindeth rest. If in other em~ ployments I have endeavoured to perve God and his Church, yet in none, I must confess, with equal contentment. Mcthinks contro- versy is not right in my way to heaven ; however the importunity of an adversary may force me to fetch it in. If truth oppressed by an erroneous teacher cry, like a ravished virgin, for my aid, I be- tray it, if I relieve it not ; when I have done, I return gladly to these paths of peace. The favour, which my late polemical labour hath found (beyond merit) from the learned, cannot divert my love to those wrangling studies. How earnestly doth my heart rather wish an universal cessation of these arms ) that all the professors of the dear name of Christ might be taken up with nothing but holy and peaceable thoughts of devotion ; the sweetness whereof hath so far affected me, that, if I might do it without danger of misconstruction , I could beg even of an enemy this leave to be happy. I have already given account to the world, of some expences of my hours this way, and here I bring more; which, if some reader may censure as poor, none can censure as unprofitable . I am bold to write than under your honourable name, whereto I am deeply obliged ; that I may leave behind me this mean but faithful testimony, of my humble thankfulness to your Lordship, and your most honoured and virtuous Lady. The noble respects I have had from you both, deserve my prayers and best services, which shall never be wanting to you and yours,
From your Honour's sincerely
Devoted in all true duty,
JOSEPH HALL.
331
SAUL IN DAVID'S CAVE.
It was the strange lot of David, that those whom he pursued pre- served him from those whom he had preserved. The Philistines, whom David had newly smitten in Keilah, call off Saul from smit- ing David in the wilderness, when there was but a hillock betwixt him and death.
Wicked purposes are easily checked, not easily broken off. Saul's sword is scarce dry from the blood of the Philistines, when it thirsts anew for the blood of David ; and now, in a renewed cfiase, hunts him dry-foot through every wilderness. The veiy desert is too fair a refuge for innocence. The hills and rocks are searched in an angry jealousy. The very wild goats of the moun- tains were not allowed to be companions for him, which had no fault but his virtue. Ob the seemingly-unequal distribution of these earthly things ! Cruelty and oppression reign in a palace, while goodness lurks among the rocks and caves, and thinks it hap- piness enough to steal a life.
Like a dead man, David is fain to be hid under the earth ; and seeks the comfort of protection in darkness : and now the wise providence of God leads Saul to his enemy, without blood. He, which before brought them within a hill's distance without interview, brings them now both within one roof ; so as that while Saul seeks David and finds him not, he is found of David unsought. If Saul had known his own opportunities, how David and his men had in- terred themselves, he had saved a treble labour, of chase, of execu- tion, and burial ; for had he but stopped the mouth of that cave, his enemies had laid themselves down in their own graves. The wisdom of God thinks fit to hide from evil men and spirits, those means and seasons, which might be, if they had been taken, most prejudicial to his own. We had been oft foiled, if Satan could but have known our hearts. Sometimes we lie open to evils, and happy it is for us that he only knows it, which pities instead of tempting us.
It is not long since Saul said of David, lodged then in Keilah, God hath delivered him into mine hands ; for he is shut in, seeing he is eorne into a city that hath gates and bars ; but now, contra- rily, God delivers Saul, ere he was aware, into the Jiands of David ; and, without the help of gates and bars, hath inclosed him within the valley of death. How just is it with God, that those who seek mischief to others find it to themselves; and, even while they ate spreading nets, are ensnared. Their deliberate plotting of evil is surprised with a sudden judgment.
How amazedly must David needs look, when he saw Saul enter into the cave, where himself was ! " What is this," thinks he,
which God hath done? Is this presence purposed, or casual? Is Saul here to pursue, or to tempt me ?" Where, suddenly, the action bewrays the intent ; and tells David, that Saul sought se- crecy, and not him. The superfluity of his maliciousness brought
332 CONTEMPLATIONS.
him into the wilderness ; the necessity of nature led hina into the cave : even those actions wherein we place shame, are not ex- empted from a providence.
The fingers of David's followers itched to seize upon their master's enemy ; and, that they might not seem led so much by faction as by faith, they urge David with a promise from God ; The day is come, whereof the Lord said until thee, Behold, I will deliver thine enemy into thine hand, and thou shall do to him, as it shall seem good to thee. This argument seemed to carry sucli com- mand with it, as that David not only may but must imbrue his hands in blood, unless he will be found wanting to God and himself. Those temptations are most powerful, which fetch their force from the pretence of a religious obedience ; whereas those, which are raised from arbitrary and private respects, admit of an easy dispen- sation.
If there were such a prediction, one clause of it was ambiguous ; and they take it at the worst. Thou shall do to him, as shall seem good to thee : that might not seem good to him, which seemed evil to God. There is nothing more dangerous, than to make con- struction of God's purposes out of eventual appearances. If carnal probabilities might be the rule of our judgment, what could God seem to intend otner than Saul's death, in offering him naked into the hands of those whom he unjustly persecuted ? How could David's soldiers think, that God had sent Saul thither on any other errand, than to fetch his bane ? And if Saul could have seen his own danger, he had given himself for dead ; for his heart, guilty to his own bloody desires, could not but have expected the same measure which it meant; But wise and holy David, not transported either with misconceit of the event, or fury of passion, or solicita- tion of his followers, dares make no other use of this accident, than the trial of his loyalty and the inducement of his peace. It had been as easy for him, to cut the throat of Saul as his garment ; but now his coat only shall be the worse, not his person : neither doth he in this maiming of a cloke seek his own revenge, but a monument of his innocence. Before, Saul rent Samuel's garment ; now, David cutteth Saul's : both were significant : the rending of the one, signified the kingdom torn out of those unworthy hands ; the cutting of the other, that the life of Saul might have been as, easily cut off.
Saul needs no other monitor of his own danger, than what he wears. The garment of Saul was laid aside, while he went to co- ver his feet ; so as the cut of the garment did not threaten any touch of the body : yet even the violence offered to a remote gar- ment strikes the heart of David, which finds a present remorse, for harmfully touching that which did once touch the person of his master. Tender consciences are moved to regret at those actions, which strong hearts pass over with a careless ease. It troubled not Saul to seek after the blood of a righteous servant. There is no less difference of consciences than stomachs: some stomachs will digest the hardest meats, and turn over substances not in their
saul in david's cave. 333
nature edible, while others surfeit of the lightest food, and com- plain even of dainties. Every gracious heart is in some measure scrupulous, and finds more safety in fear, than in presumption ; and if it be so strait, as to curb itself in from the liberty which it might take in things which are not unlawful, how much less will it dare to take scope unto evil ! By how much that state is better, where nothing is allowed, than where all things ; by so much is the strict and timorous conscience better than the lawless. There is good likelihood of that man, which is any way scrupulous of his ways ; but he, which makes no bones of his actions, is apparently hopeless.
Since David's followers pleaded God's testimony to him as a motive to blood, David appeals to the same God for his preserva- tion from blood ; The Lord keep me from doing that thing to my waster, the Lord's Anointed. And now the good man hath work enough, to defend both himself and his persecutor; himself, from the importunate necessity of doing violence, and his master, from suffering it. It was not more easy to rule his own hands, than difficult to rule a multitude. David's troop consisted of malecon- tents ; all that were in distress, in debt, in bitterness of soul, were gathered to him. Many, if never so well ordered, are hard to command ; a few, if disorderly, more hard ; many and disorderly, must needs be so much the hardest of all, that David never achieved any victory like unto this, wherein he first overcame himself, then his soldiers.
And what was the charm, wherewith David allayed those raging spirits of his followers ? No other but this ; He is the Anointed of the Lord. That holy oil was the antidote for his blood. Saul did not lend David so unpierceablc an armour, when he should en- counter Goliath, as David now lent him in this plea of his unction. Which of all the discontented outlaws that lurked in that cave, durst put forth his hand against Saul, when they once heard, He ts the Lord's Anointed ? Such an impression of awe hath the Di- vine Providence caused his image to make in the hearts of men, as that it makes traitors cowards ; so as, instead of striking, they tremble. How much more lawless than the outlaws of Israel, are those professed ringleaders of Christianity, which teach, and prac- tise, and encourage, aud reward, and canonize, the violation of majesty ! It is not enough for those who are commanders of others, to refrain their own hands from doing evil, but they must carefully prevent the iniquity of their heels ; else they shall be justly reputed to do that by others, which in their own persons they avoided. The laws both of God and man presuppose us in some sort answerable for our charge ; as taking it for granted, that we should not undertake those reins which we cannot manage.
There was no reason David should lose the thanks of so noble a demonstration of his loyalty : whereto he trusts so much, that he dares call back the man by whom he was pursued ; and make him judge, whether that fact had not deserved a life. As his act, so his word aud gesture, imported nothing but humble obedience:
33+ CONTEMPLATIONS.
neither was there more meekness than force in that seasonable per- suasion ; wherein he lets Saul see the error of his credulity, the un- just slanders of maliciousness, the opportunity of his revenge, the proof of his forbearance, the undeniable evidence of his innocence ; and, after a lowlv disparagement of himself, appeals to God for judgment, for protection.
So lively and feeling oratory did Saul find in the lap of his gar- ment and the lips of David, that it is not in the power of his envy or ill-nature to hold out any longer ; Is this thy voice, my son Da- vid ? And Saul lift up his voice and wept, and said; Thou art more righteous than I. He, whose harp was wont to quiet the phrensy of Saul, hath now by his words calmed his fury ; so that now he sheds tears, instead of blood ; and confesses his own wTong, and David's integrity ; and, as if he were now again entered into the bounds of Naioth in Ramah, he prays, and prophesies good to him, whom he maliced for good ; The Lord render thee good, for that thou hast done to me this day ; for now behold, I knozv that thou shalt be king.
There is no heart made of flesh, that some time or other relents not. Even flint and marble will, in some weather, stand on drops. I cannot think these tears and protestations feigned. Doubtless Saul meant as he said ; and passed through sensible fits of good and evil. Let no man think himself the better for good motions : the praise and benefit of those gusts is not in the receipt, but the retention.
Who, that had seen this meeting, could but have thought that all had been sure on David's side ? What can secure us if not tears, and prayei's, and oaths? Doubtless David's men, which knew themselves obnoxious to laws and creditors, began to think of some new refuge, as making account this new-pieced league would be everlasting. They looked when Saul would take David home to the court, and dissolve his army, and recompense that unjust per- secution with just honour; when behold, in the loose, Saul goes home, but David and his men go up unto the hold. Wise David knows Saul not to be more kind than untrusty ; and therefore would rather seek safety in his hold, than in the hold of a hollow and unsteadv friendship. Here are good words, but no security ; which therefore an experienced man gives the hearing, but stands the while upon his own guard. No charity binds us to a trust of those, whom we have found faithless. Credulity upon weak grounds, after palpable disappointments, is the daughter of folly. A man that is weather-wise, though he find an abatement of the storm, yet will not stir from under his shelter while he sees it thick in the wind. Distrust is the just gain of unfaithfulness. 1 Sam. xxiv.
NABAL AND ABIGAIL. If innocency could have secured from Saul's malice, David had not been persecuted ; and yet under that wicked king, aged Sa- muel dies in his bed. That there might be no place for envy, the
NABAL AND ABIGAIL. 335
good prophet had retired himself to the schools. Yet he, that hated David, for what he should be, did no less hate Samuel, for what he had been. Even in the midst of Saul's malignity, there remained in his heart impressions of awfulness unto Samuel : he feared, where he loved not. The restraint of God curbeth the rage of his most violent enemies, so as they cannot do their worst. As good hus- bands do not put all their corn to the oven, but save some for seed, so doth God ever in the worst of persecutions.
Samuel is dead ; David banished ; Saul tyrannizeth ; Israel hath good cause to mourn ; it is no marvel if this lamentation be uni- versal. There is no Israelite that feeleth not the loss of a Samuel. A good prophet is the common treasure, wherein every gracious soul hath a share. That man hath a dry heart, which can part with God's prophet without tears.
Nabal was, according to his name, foolish ; yet rich and mighty. Earthly possessions are not always accompanied with wit and grace. Even the line of faithful Caleb will afford an ill-conditioned Nabal. Virtue is not like unto lands, inheritable. All that is traduced with the seed, is either evil, or not good. Let no man brag with the Jews, that he hath Abraham to his father : God hath raised up of this stone a son to Caleb.
Abigail (which signified) her father's joy) had sorrow enough to be matched with so unworthy a husband. If her father had meant she should have had joy in herself, or in her life, he had not dis- posed her to a husband, though rich, yet fond and wicked. It i9 like he married her to the wealth, not to the man. Many a child is cast away upon riches. Wealth in our matches should be as some grains or scruples in the balance, superadded to the gold of virtuous qualities, to weigh down the scales : when it is made the substance of the weight, and good qualities the appendance, there is but one earth poised with another; which, wheresoever it is done, it is a wonder, if either the children prove not the parents' sorrow, or the parents theirs.
Nabal's sheep-shearing was famous. Three thousand fleeces must needs require many hands :■ neither is any thing more plentiful commonly than a churl's feast. What a world was this, that the noble champion and rescuer of Israel, God's anointed, is driven to send to a base carle for victuals ! It is no measuring of men, by the depth of the purse, by outward prosperity. Servants are often- times set on horseback, while princes go on loot. Our estimation must be led by their inward worth, which is not alterable by time, nor diminished with external conditions. One rag of a David is more worth, than the wardrobes of a thousand Nabals.
Even the best deservings may want. No man may be con- temned for his necessity : perhaps he may be so much richer in grace, as he is poorer in estate. Neither hath violence or casualty more impoverished a David, than his poverty hath enriched him, He, whose folly hath made himself miserable, is justly rewarded with neglect; but he that suffers for good, deserves so much more honour from others, as his distress is more. Our compas-
33G CONTEMPLATIONS.
sion or respect must be ruled, according to the cause of another* misery.
One good turn requires another. In some cases, not hurting is meritorious. He, that should examine the qualities of David's fol- lowers, must needs grant it worthy of a fee, that Nabal's flocks lay untouched in Carmel. But more, that David's soldiers were Na- bal's shepherds, yea the keepers of his shepherds, gave them a just interest in that sheep-shearing feast ; justly should they have been set at the upper end of the tahle. That Nahal's sheep were safe, he might thank his shepherds ; that his shepherds were safe, he might thank David's soldiers. It is no small benefit, that we re- ceive in a safe protection. Well may we think our substance due, where we owe ourselves.
Yet this churlish Nabal doth not only give nothing to David's messengers, but, which is worse than nothing, ill words ; Who is David, or who is the so?i of Jesse ? There be many servants now a-days, that break away from their masters. David asked him bread ; he giveth him stones. All Israel knew and honoured their deliverer; yet this clown, to save his victuals, will needs make him a man, either of no merits or ill, either an obscure man or a fugitive.
Nothing is more cheap than good words. These Nabal might have given, and been never the poorer. If he had been resolved to shut his hands in a fear of Saul's revenge, he might have so tem- pered his denial, that the repulse might have been free from of- fence ; but now his foul mouth doth not only deny, but revile. It should have been Nahal's glory, that his tribe yielded such a suc- cessor to the throne of Israel ; now, in all likelihood, his envy stirs him up to disgrace that man, who surpassed him in honour and virtue, more than he was surpassed by him in wealth and ease.
Many a one speaks fair, that means ill; but when the mouth speaks foul, it argues a corrupt heart. If, with Saint James's ver- bal benefactors, we say only, Depart in peace, warm yourselves , fill your bellies, we shall answer for hypocritical uncharitablencss ; but if we rate and curse those needy souls, whom we ought to re- lieve, we shall give a more fearful account of a savage cruelty, in trampling on those whom God hath humbled. If healing with good words be justly punishable, what torment is there for those that wound with evil ?
David, which had all this while been in the school of patience, hath now his lesson to seek. He, who hath happily digested all the leadings and persecutions of a wicked master, cannot put off this affront of a Nabal. Nothing can assuage his choler, but blood. How subject are the best of God's saints to weak passions ! and, if we have the grace to ward an expected blow of temptation, how easily are we surprised with a sudden foil !
Wherefore serve these recorded weaknesses of holy men, but to strengthen us against the conscience of our infirmities ? Not that we should take courage to imitate them in the evil, whereunto they have been miscarried ; but we should take heart to ourselves, against the discouragement of our own evils.
NAEAL AND ABIGAIL. 337
' The wisdom of God hath so contrived it, that, commonly, in so- cieties, good is mixed with evil. Wicked Nahal hath in his house a wise and good servant, a prudent and worthy wife. That wise ser- vant is careful to advertise his mistress of the danger ; his prudent mistress is careful to prevent it.
The lives of all his family were now in hazard : she dares not commit this business to the fidelity of a messenger, but, forgetting her sex, puts herself into the errand. Her foot is not slow ; her hand is not empty.
According to the offence, she frames her satisfaction. Her hus- band refused to give; she brings a bountiful gift: her husband gave ill words ; she sweetens iheiu with a meek and humble depre- cation : her husband could say, IV ho is David? she falls at his feet : her husband dismisses David's men empty ; she brings her servants laden with provision ; as if it had been only meant to case the repelled messengers of the carriage, not to scant them of the required benevolence. No wit, no art, could devise a more pithy and powerful oratory.
As all satisfaction, so hers, begins with a confession ; wherein she deeply blameth the folly of her husband. She could not have been a good wife, if she had not honoured her urjwprthy head. If a stranger should have termed him fool in her hearing, he could not have gone away in peace ; now, to save his life, she is bold to acknowledge his folly : it is a good disparagement that preserved). There is the same way to our peace in heaven : the only means to escape judgment, is to complain of our own vileuess.
iShe pleadeth her ignorance of the fact, and therein her freedom from the offence : she humbly craveth acceptation of her present, with pardon of the fault : she professeth David's honourable acts and merits ; she foretels his future success and glory : she lays be- fore him the happy peace of his soul, in refraining from innocent blood. David's breast, which could not, through the seeds of grace, grow to a stubbornness in ill resolutions cannot but relent with these powcrfid and seasonable persuasions ; and now, instead of revenge, he blesscth God lor sending Abigail to meet him ; he blesscth Abigail for her counsel ; he blesseth the counsel for so wholesome efficacy, and now rejoiceth more in being overcome with a wise and gracious advice, than he would have rejoiced in a revengeful victory.
A good heart is easily stayed from sinning, and is glad when it finds occasion to be crossed in ill purposes. Those secret checks, which are raised within itself, do readily conspire with ali outward retentives. It never yielded to a wicked motion, without much re- luctance, and when it is overcome, it is but with half a consent ; whereas perverse and obdurate sinners, by reason they take full delight in evil, and have already in their conceit swallowed the pleasure of sin, abide not to be resisted, running on headily, in those wicked courses they have propounded in spite of opposition ; and, if they be forcibly stopped in their way, they grow sullen and mutinous.
VOL. i. z
338
CONTEMPLATIONS.
David had not only vowed, but deeply sworn, die death of Nabal, and all his family, to the very dog that lay at his door ; yet now he praiseth God, that hath given the occasion and grace to violate it. Wicked vows are ill made, but worse kept. Our tongue cannot tie us to commit sin. Good men think themselves happy, that since they had not the grace to deny sin, yet they had not the opportunity to accomplish it.
If Abigail had sat still at home, David had sinned, and she had died ; now her discreet admonition hath preserved her from the sword, and diverted him from bloodshed. And now, what thanks, what benedictions, hath she for this seasonable counsel ! How should it encourage us to admonish our brethren ; to see, that if we prevail, we have blessings from them ; if we prevail not, we have yet blessings from God, and thanks of our own hearts !
How near was Nabal to a mischief, and perceives it not ! David was coming to the foot of the hill to cut his throat, while he was feasting in his house without fear. Little do sinners know, how near their jollity is to perdition. Many times judgment is at the threshold, while drunkenness and surfeit are at the board. Had he been any other than a Nabal, he had not sat down to feast' till he had been sure of his peace with David : either not to expect danger, or not to clear it, was sottish. So foolish are carnal men, that give themselves over to their pleasures, while there are deaulv quarrels depending against them in heaven.
There is nothing wherein wisdom is more seen, than in the tern*- pcrate use of prosperity, A Nabal cannot abound, but he must be drunk and surfeit. Excess is a true argument of folly. We use to say, that when drink is in, wit is out ; but if wit were not out, drink would not be in.
It was no time to advise Nabal, while his reason was drowned in a deluge of wine. A beast or a stone is as capable of good counsel as a drunkard. Oh that the noblest creature should so far abase him- self, as for a little liquor to lose the use of those faculties, whereby he is a man ! Those, that have to do with drink or phrensy, must be glad to watch times : so did Abigail, who, the next morning, pre- sents to her husband the view of his faults, of his danger. He then sees, how near he was to death, and felt it not. That worldly mind is so apprehensive of the death that should have been, as that he, dies, to think that he had like to have died. Who would think a man could be so affected with a danger past, and yet so senseless of a future, yea imminent ? He, that was yesternight as a beast, is now as a stone: he was then over-merry, now dead and lumpish. Carnal hearts are ever in extremities. If they be once down, their dejection is desperate, because they have no inward comfort to mi- tigate their sorrow. What difference there was betwixt the disposi- tion of David and Nabal ! How oft had David been in tlic valley of the shadow of death, and feared no evil ! Nabal is but once put in mind of a death that might have been, and is stricken dead. It is just with God, that they who live without grace should die with- out comfort ; neither can we expect better, while we go on in our ;>ins.
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339
The speech of Abigail smote Nabal into a qualm. That tongue had doubtless oft advised him well, and prevailed not ; now, it oc- casions his death, whose reformation it could not effect. She meant nothing but his amendment ; God meant to make that loving in- strument the means of his revenge : she speaks, and God strikes ; and within ten days, tliat swoon ends in death.
And now Nabal pays dear for his uncharitable reproach, for his riotous excess. That God, which would not suffer David to right himself by his own sword, takes the quarrel of his servant into his own hand. David hath now Ids ends without sin ; rejoicing in the just executions of God, who would neither suffer him to sin in re- venging, nor suffer his adversaries to sin unrevenged.
Our loving God is more angry with the wrongs done to his ser- vants, than themselves can be ; and knows how to punish that justly, which we could not undertake without wronging God, more than men have wronged us. He, that saith, Vengeance is mine, I will repay, repays oft-times when we have forgiven, when we have forgotten, and calls to reckoning after our discharges. It is dan- gerous offending any favourite of him, whose displeasure and re- venge is everlasting.
How far God looks beyond our purposes ! Abigail came only to plead for an ill husband ; and now God makes this journey a pre- paration for a better : so that in one act, she preserved an ill hus- band, and won a good one in the future. David well remembers her comely person, her wise speeches, her graceful carriage ; and now, when modesty found it seasonable, he sends to sue her, which had been his suppliant. She entreated for her husband ; David treats with her for his wife : her request was to escape his sword ; he wisheth her to his bed. It was a fair suit to change a David for a Nabal ; to become David's queen, instead of Nabal's drudge. She, that learned humility under so hard a tutor, abaseth herself no less when David offers to advance her ; Let thine hand-maid be a servant, to wash the feet of the servants of my Lord. None are so fit to be great, as those that can stoop lowest. How could David be more happy in a wife: he finds at once piety, wisdom, humi- lity, faithfulness, wealth, beauty ? How could Abigail be more happy in a husband, than in the prophet, the champion, the anointed of God ? Those marriages are well made, wherein virtuesare matched, and happiness is mutual. 1 Sam. xxv.
DAVID AND ACHISH.
Good motions that fall into wicked hearts, are like some sparks that fall from the flint and steel into wet tinder; lightsome for the time, but soon out. After Saul's tears and protestations, yet he is now again in the wilderness with three thousand men, to hunt after innocent David.
How invincible is the charity and loyalty of an honest heart ! The same hand, that spared Saul in the cave, spares him sleeping in the field : the same hand, that cut away the lap of his master's
340 CONTEMPLATIONS.
garment, carried away his spear; that spear, which might as well hate carried away the life of the owner, is only borne away for a proof of the fidelity of the bearer.
Still Saul is strong, but David victorious, and triumphs over the malice of his persecutor ; yet still the victor flieth from him, whom he hath overcome.
. A man, that sees how far Saul was transported with his rancorous envy, cannot but say, that he was never more mad than when he was sober ; for even after he had said, Blessed art thou, my son David, thou shalt do great things, and also prevail, yet still he pursues him, whom he grants assured to prevail : what is this, but to resolve to lose his labour in sinning, and in spite of himself to offend ? How shameful is our inequality of disposition to good f We know we cannot miss of the reward of well-doing, and yet do it not ; while wicked men cast away their endeavours upon those evil projects, whereof they are sure to fail. Sin blinds the eyes, and hardens the heart, and thrusts men into wilful mischiefs, how- ever dangerous, however impossible ; and never leaves them, till it have brought them to utter confusion.
The over long continuance of a temptation, may easily weary the best patience ; and may attain that by protraction, which it could never do by violence. David himself at last begins to bend under this trial ; and resolves so to fly from Saul, as he runs from the Church of God ; and while he will avoid the malice of hi$ master, joins himself with God's enemies.
The greatest saints upon earth are not always upon the same pitch of spiritual strength. He, that sometimes said, / will not be afraid of ten thousands, now says, / shall one day perish by the hand of Saul. He had wont to consult with God •, now he says thus in his own heart. How many evident experiments had David of God's deliverances ; how certain and clear predictions of his future kingdom ; how infallible an earnest was the holy oil, where- with he was anointed, of the crown of Israeli And yet, David sa'id in his heart, I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul. The best faith is but like the twilight ; mixed with some degrees of darkness and infidelity. We do utterly misreckon the greatest earthly holiness, if we exempt it from infirmities. It is not long, since David told Saul, that those wicked enemies of his, which cast him out from abiding in the inheritance of the Lord, did as good as bid him, Go serve other gods ; yet now is he gone from the in- heritance of God, into the land of the Philistines. That Saul might seek him no more, he hides himself out of the lists of the Church, where a good man would not look for him.
Once before had David- fled to this Achish ; when he was glad to scrabble on the doors, and let his spittle fall upon his beard, in a semblance of madness, that he might escape ; yet now, in a sem- blance of friendship, is he returned to save that life, which he was in danger to have lost in Israel. Goliath, the champion of the Phi- listines, whom David slew, was of Gath ; yet David dwells with Achish, king of the Philistines, in Gath : even amongst them whose
T5AVID AND ACHISH. 341
fore-skins he had presented to Saul, by two hundreds at once, doth David choose to reside for safety. Howsoever it was a weakness in David, thus by his league of amity to strengthen the enemies of God, yet doth not God take advantage of it for his overthrow, but gives him protection, even where his presence offended ; and gives him favour, where himself bore just hatred. Oh the infinite patience and mercy of our God, who doth good to us for our evil ; and in the very act of our provocation upholdcth, yea, blcsseth us with preservation !
Could Saul have rightly considered it, he had found it no small loss and impairing to his kingdom, that so valiant a captain, at- tended with six hundred able soldiers and their families, should for- sake his land, and join with his enemies; yet he is not quiet, tiil he have abandoned his own strength. The world hath none so great enemy to a wicked man, as himself: his hands cannot be held from his own mischief: he will needs make his friends, enemies; his enemies, victors ; himself, miserable.
David was too wise to cast himself into the hand of a Philistine king, without assurance. What assurance could he have, but pro- mises? Those, David had from Saul abundantly, and trusted them not : he dares trust the fidelity of a pagan ; he dares not trust the vows of a king of Israel. There may be fidelity without the Church, and falsehood within. It need not be any news, to find some Turks true, and some Christians faithless.
Even unwise men are taught by experience ; how much more they, who have wit to learn without it ! David had well found, what it was to live in a court ; he therefore, whom envy drove from the court of Israel, voluntarily declines the Philistine court, and sues for a country habitation. It had not been possible for so noted a stranger, after so much Philistine bloodshed, to live long in such an eminency, amongst the press of those, whose sons, or brothers, or fathers, or allies, he had slaughtered, without some perilous machination of his ruin ; therefore he makes suit for an early re- move ; For why should thy servant dwell in (he chief city of the kingdom with thee f Those, that would stand sure, must not affect too much height or conspicuity. The tall cedars are most subject to winds and lightnings, while the shrubs of the vallies stand un- moved. Much greatness doth but make a fairer mark for evil.1 There is true firmness and safety in mediocrity.
How rarely is it seen, that a man loseth by his modesty ! The change fell out well to David, of Ziklag for Gath. Now he hath a city of his own. All Israel, where he was anointed, afforded him not so much possession. Now the city, which was anciently assigned to Judah, returns to the just owner ; and is, by this means, entailed to the crown of David's successors. Besides that, now might David five out of the sight and hearing of the Philistine idolatries; and enjoy God, no less in the walls of a Philistine city, than in an Isra- elitish wilderness : withal, a happy opportunity was now opened to his friends of Israel, to retort unto his aid. The heads of the thou- sands that were of Manasseh, and many valiant captains of the other
342
CONTEMPLATIONS.
tribes, fell daily to him, and raised his six hundred followers to an army, like the host of God. The deserts of Israel could never have yielded David so great an advantage. That God, whose the earth is, makes room for his own every where ; and oft-times pro- videth them a foreign home, more kindly than the native. It is no matter for change of our soil, so we change not our God. If we can every where acknowledge him, he will no where be wanting to us.
It was not for God's champion to be idle. No sooner is he free from Saul's sword, than he begins an offensive war against the Amolekites, Gezrites, Geshurites. He knew these nations branded by God to destruction : neither could his increasing armv be main- tained with a. little : by one act therefore, he both revenges for God, and provides for his host. Had it not been for that old quar- rel, which God had with this people, David could not be excused from a bloody cruelty, in killing whole countries, only for the be- nefit of the spoil ; now, his soldiers were at once, God's execu- tioners, and their own foragers. The intervention of a command from the Almighty alters the state of any act ; and makes that worthy of praise, which else were no better than damnable. It is now justice, which were otherwise murder. The will of God is the rule of good. What need we inquire into other reasons of any act or determination, when we hear it comes from heaven ?
How many hundred years had this brood of Canaanites lived securely in their country, since God commanded them to be rooted out, and now promised" themselves the ceitainest peace ! The Phi- listines were their friends, if not their lords. The Israelites had their hands full ; neither did thev know any grudge betwixt them and their neighbours ; when suddenly, the sword of David cuts them off, and leaves none alive to tell the news. There is no safety in protraction. With men, delay causeth forgetfulness, or abates the force of anger ; as all violent motions are weakest at the fur- thest: but with him, to whom all times are present, what can be gained by prorogation ? Alas ! what can it avail any of the cursed seed of Canaan, that they have made a truce with heaven and a league with hell ? Their day is coming ; and is not the further off, because they expect it not.
Miserable were the straits of David ; while he was driven, not only to maintain his armv by spoil, but to colour his spoil by a sinful dissimulation. He tells Achish, that he had been roving against the south of Judah, and the south of the Jerahmeelites, ana the south of the Kenites ; either falsely or doubtfully, so as he meant to deceive him, under whom he lived, and by whom he was trusted. If Achish were a Philistine, yet he was David's friend, 3rea his patron ; and if he had been neither, it had not become David to be false. The infirmities of God's children never appear, but in their extremities. It is hard for the best man, to say how far he will be tempted. If a man will put himself among Philistines, he cannot promise to come forth innocent.
How easily do we believe that which we wish ! The more credit Achish gives unto David, the more sin it was to deceive him ; and
DAVID AND ACHISH.
34J
now, the conceit of this engagement procures him a lurther service. The Philistines are assembled to fight with Israel. Achish dares trust David on his .side ; yea to keep his head for ever : neither can David do any less, than promise his aid against his own flesh.
Never was David, in all his life, driven to so hard an exigent ; never was he so extremely perplexed. For what should he do now ? To fight with Achish, he was tied by promise, by merit ; not to fight against Israel, he was tied by his calling, by his unction : not to figat for Achish, were to be unthankful ; to fight against Israel, were to be unnatural. Oh what an inward battle must David needs have in his breast, when he thinks of this battle of Israel and the Philistines ! How doth he wish now, that he had rather stood to the hazard of Saui's persecution, than to have put himself upon the favour of Achish ! He must fight on one side ; and on whether side soever he should fight, he could not avoid to be treacherous ; a condition worse than death, to an honest heart. Which way he would have resolved, if it had come to the execution, who can know, since himself was doubtful ? Either course had been no bet- ter than desperate. How could the Israelites ever have received him for their king, who in the open field had fought against them ? And contrarily, it lie would have fought against his friend for his enemy, against Achish for Saul, he was now environed with jealous Philistines ; and might rather look for the punishment of his trea- son, than the glory of a victory.
His hear hi d led him into these straits; the Lord finds way to lead him out. The suggestions of his enemies do herein befriend him. The princes of the Philistines, whether of envy or suspicion, plead for David's dismi«sio n ; Scud this fellow back, that he may go again to his place, which thou hast appointed him ; and let him not go down to the buttle, lest he be an adversary to us. No advo- cate cou! 1 nave said more; himself durst not have said so much. Oh the wisdom and goodness of our God, that can raise up an adversary, to deliver out of those evils which our friends cannot ; that, by the sword of an enemy, can let out that imposthume, w "ici no physician could tell how to cure ! It would be wide with us sometime if 't were not for others' malice.
I'here could not be a more just question, than this of the Phi- listine pri icesy What do these Hebrews here? An Israelite is out of his element, when he is in an army of Philistines. The true ser- vants ot God are in the.r due pltices, when they are in opposition to his enemies. Profession of hostility becomes them better, than leagues of amity.
let Achish likes David's conversation and presence so well, that he professeth himself pleased with bun, as with an angel of God. How strange is it to hear, that a Philistine should delight in that holy man, whom an Israelite abhors; and should be loth to be quit of David, whom Saul hath expelled ! Terms of civility be equally open to all religions, to all professions. The common graces of God's children are able to attract love, from the most obstinate enemies of goodness. If we affect them for by-respttcts of valour,
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wisdom, discourse, wit, it is their praise, not ours ; but it for di- vine grace and religion, it is our praise with theirs.
Such now was David's condition, that he must plead for tliat he feared, and argue against that which he desired ; What have. I done ? and -j; hat hast thou- found in t hi/ servant, that I may not go awl jigftl against th-e enemies of mij lord the king? Never anv news- could be more cordial to him than this, of his dismission ; vet must he seem to strive against it, with an importunate profession of his forwardness to that aft which he most detested..
One degree" of dissimulation draws on another. Those, which have once given wav to a faultv course, cannot easilv, either stop or turn back ; but are' in a sort forced to second their ill begin- nings, with worse proceedings. It is a dangerous and miserahle thing, to east ourselves into those actions, which draw with them a necessity, either of offending or miscarriage. 1 Sam. xxvii.
SAUL AND THE WITCH OF ENDOR.
Even the worst men mav sometimes make head against some sins. Saul hath expelled the sorcerers out of the land of Israel ; and hath forbidden magic upon pain of death. He, that had no care to expel Satan out of iiis own heart, yet will seem to drive him out of his kingdom. That we see wicked men oppose themselves to some sins, there is neither marvel nor comfort m it.
No doubt Satan made sport at this edict of Saul. What cares he to be banished in sorcery, while he is entertained in malice? He knew and found Said his, while he resisted ; and smiled to yield thus far unto his vassal. If we quit not all sins, he will be content we should either abandon or persecute some.
Where is no place for holy fear, there will be place for the ser- vile. The graceless heart of Saul was astonished at the Philistines ; yet was never moved at the frowns of that God whose anger sent them, nor of those sins of his which procured them. Those, that cannot fear for love, shall tremble for tear : and how much better is awe, than terror! prevention, than confusion! There is nothing more lamentable, than to ^ee a man laugh when he should fear: God shall laugh, when such .a one's fear cometh.
Extremity of distress will send even the profanest man to God. Like as the drowning man reacheth out his hand to that bough, which he contemned while he stood safe on the bank, Saul now asketh counsel of the Lord, whose. prophet he hated, whose priests lie slew, whose anointed he persecutes. Had Said consulted with God when' he should, this evil had not been ; but now, if this evil had not heen, he Irad not consulted with God. The thank of this act is due, not to him, but to his affliction.
A forced piety is thankless, unprofitable. God will not answer him, neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by prophets. Why should God answer that man bv dreams, who had resisted him waking ? Whv should he answer him by Urim, that had slain his priests? Why should he answer him by .prophets, who hated the
SAUL AXD THE WITCH OF ENDOR. 34.5
father of the prophets, rebelled against the word of the prophets ? It is an unreasonable inequality, to hope to find God at our com- mand, when we would not be at his; to look that God should re- gard our voice in trouble, when we would not regard his in peace.
Unto what mad shifts are men driven by despair ! If God will not answer, Satan shall ; Saul said to his servants, Seek vie a man that hath a familiar spirit. If Saul had not known this course de- vilish, why did lie decree to banish it, to mulct it with death? yet now, against the stream of his conscience, he will seek to those whom he had condemned.
There needs no other judge of Saul's act, than himself. Had he not before opposed this sin, he had not so heinously sinned in com- mitting it. There cannot be a more fearful sign of a heart given up to a reprobate sense, than to cast itself wilfully into those sins, which it hath proclaimed to detest. The declinations to evil are many times insensible'; but when it breaks forth into such appa- rent effects, even othe rs' eyes may discern it.
What was Saul the better, to foreknow the issue of his approach- ing battle ? If this consultation could have strengthened him against his enemies, or promoted his victory, there might have been some colour for so foul an act ; now, what could he gain, but the satisl fying of his bootless curiosity, in foreseeing that, which he should not be able to avoid ?
Foolish men give away their souls for nothing. The itch of impertinent and unprofitable knowledge, hath been the hereditary disease of the sons of Adam and Eve. How many have perished to know that, which hath procured their perishing ! How ambitious should we be to know those things, the knowledge whereof is eter- nal life !
Many a lewd office are they put to, which serve wicked masters. One while, Saul's servants are sent to kill innocent David ; another while, to shed the blood of God's priests ; and now, they must go seek for a witch. It is no small happiness to attend them, from whom we may receive precepts and examples of virtue.
Had Saul been good, he had needed no disguise. Honest ac- tions never shame the doers. Now, that he goeth about a sinful business, he changeth himself: he seeks the shelter of the night: he takes but two followers with him. It is true, that if Saul had come in the port of a king, the witch had as much dissembled her condition, as now he dissembleth his ; yet it was not only desire to speed, but guiltiness, that thus altered his habit. Such is the power of conscience, that even those who arc most affected to evil, yet are ashamed to be thought such as they desire to be.
Saul needed another face to fit that tongue, which should say, Conjecture to me by the familiar spirit, and bring me up whom I shall name unto thee. An obdurate heart can give way to any tiling.
Notwithstanding the peremptory edict of Saul, there are stiil witches in Israel. Neither good laws, nor careful executions, can purge the Church from malefactors. There will still be some, that
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will jeopard their heads upon the grossest sins. No garden can be so curiously tended, that there should not be one weed left in it. Yet so far can good statutes, and due inflictions of punishments upon offenders, prevail, that mischievous persons are glad to pull in their heads ; and dare not do ill, but in disguise and darkness. It is no small advantage of justice, that it affrights sin, if it cannot be expelled ; as eontrarily, woeful is the condition of that place, where is a public profession of wickedness.
The witch was no less crafty than wicked. She had before, as is like, bribed officers to escape indictment, to lurk in secrecy ; and now she will not work her feats without security. Her suspi- cion projects the worst ; Wherefore seekest thou to take vie in a snare, to cause, me to die ? O vain sorceress, that could be wary to avoid the punishment of Saul ; careless to avoid the judgment of God! ?
Could we forethink what our sin would cost us, we durst not but be innocent. This is a good and seasonable answer for us to make uoto Satan, when he solicits us to evil ; Wherefore seekest thou to take me in a snare, to cause me to die ? Nothing is more sure, than this intention in the tempter, than this event in the issue. Oh that we could but so much fear the eternal pains, as we do the temporary ; and be but so careful, to save our souls from torment, as our bodies !
No sooner hath Saul sworn her safety, than she addresseth her to her sorcery. Hope of impunity draws on sin with boldness. Were it not for the delusions of false promises, Satan should have no clients.
Could Saul be so ignorant, as to think that magic had power over God's deceased saints, to raise them up; yea, to call them down from their rest ? Time was, when Saul was among the pro- phets ; and yet now, that he is in the impure lodge of devils, how senseless he is, to say, Bring me. up Samuel ! It is no rare thing, to lose even our wit and judgment together with graces. How justly are they given to cottishness, that have given themselves over to sin !
The sorceress, it seems, exercising her conjurations in a room apart, is informed by her familiar, who it was that set her on work. She can therefore find time, in the midst of her exorcisms, to bind the assurance of her own safety, by expostulation ; She cried with a loud voice, Why hast thcu deceived me, for thou art Saul ? The very name of Saul was an accusation ; yet is he so far from striking his breast, that, doubting lest this fear of the witch should inter- rupt the desired work, he encourages her, whom he should have condemned ; Be not afraid. He, that had more cause to fear for his own sake in an expectation of just judgment, cheers up her, that feared nothing but himself. How ill doth it become us, to give that counsel to others, whereof we have more need and use in our own persons !
As one, that had more care to satisfy his own curiosity than her suspicion, he asks, What sanest thou ? Who would not have looked,
SAUL AKD THE WITCH OF END0R. 347
that Saul's hair should have stared on his head, to hear of a spirit raised ? His sin hath so hardened him, that lie rather pleases him- self in it, which hath nothing in it but horror.
So far is Satan content to descend to the service of his servants, that he will approve his feigned ohedience to their very outward senses. What form is so glorious, that he either cannot or dare not undertake ? Here, gods ascend out of the earth ; elsewhere, Satan transforms him into an angel of light. What wonder is it, that his wicked instruments appear like saints, in their hypocritical dissi- mulation ?
If we will be judging by the appearance, we shall be sure to err. No eye could distinguish betwixt the true Samuel and a false spirit. Saul, who was well worthy to be deceived, seeing those grey hairs and that mantle, inclines himself to the ground, and bows himself. He, that would not worship God in Samuel alive, now worships Samuel in Satan : and no marvel ; Satan was now become his re- fuge instead of God ; his Urim was darkness, his prophet a ghost. Every one, that consults with Satan, worships him, though he bow not ; neither doth that evil spirit desire any other reverence, than to be sought unto.
How cunningly doth Satan resemble, not only the habit and gesture, but the language of Samuel; Wherefore hast thw dis- quieted me ? And wherefore dost thou ask of mey seeing the Lord is gone from thee, and is thine enemy ? Nothing is more pleasing to that evil one, than to be solicited ; yet, in the person of Samuel, he can say, Why hast thou disquieted me ? Had not the Lord been gone from Saul, he had never come to the devilish oracle of Endor ; and yet the counterfeiting spirit can say, Why doest thou ask of me, seeing the Lord is gone from thee f Satan cares not how little he is known to be himself: he loves to pass under any form, rather than his own. The more holy the person is, the more carefully doth Satan act him; that by his stale, he may ensnare us.
In every motion, it is good to try the spirits, whether they be of God. Good words are no means to distinguish a prophet from a devil. Samuel himself, while he was alive, could not have spoken more gravely, more severely, more divinely, than this evil ghost ; For the Lord will rent thy kingdom out of thy hand, and give it thy neighbour David: because thou obeyedst not the voice of the Lord, nor executedst his fierce wrath upon the Amalekites, therefore hath the Lord done this unto thee this day. When the devil himself puts on gravity and religion, who can marvel at the hypocrisy of men ? Well may lewd men be good preachers, when Satan himself can play the prophet. Where are those ignorants, that can think cha- ritably of charms and spells, because they find nothing in them but good words? What prophet could speak better words, than this devil in Samuel's mantle ? Neither is there at any time so much danger of that evil spirit, as when he speaks best.
I could wonder to hear Satan preach thus prophetically, if I did not know, that, as he was once a good angel, so he can still act what he was.
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While Saul was in consultation of sparing Agag, we shall never find that Satan would lav any block in his way : yea, then he was a prompt orator, to induce him into that sin ; now that it is past and gone, he can load Saul with fearful denunciations of judgment. Till we have sinned, Satan is a parasite ; when we have sinned, he is a tyrant. What cares be to flatter any more, when he hath what he would ? Now, his only work is to terrify and confound, that he may enjoy what he hath won. How much better is it serving that Master, who, when we are most dejected with the conscience of evil, heartens us with inward comfort, and speaks peace to the soul in the midst of tumult ! 1 Sam. xxtiii,
ZIKLA'G SPOILED AND REVENGED. .
Had not the king of the; Philistines sent David away earlv, his wives and his people and substance, which he left at Ziklag, had been utterly lost ; now Achish did not more pleasure David in his entertainment, than in his .dismission.
£aul was not David's enemy more, in the persecution of his per- son, than in the forbearance of God's enemies. Behold, thus late doth David feel the smart of Saul's sin, in sparing the Amalekites; who, if God's sentence had been duly executed, bad not now sur- vived, to annoy this-parcel of Israel.
As, in spiritual respects, our sins are always hurtful to ourselves' so, in temporal, oft-times prejudicial to posterity. A wicked man deserves ill of those, he never lived to see.
I cannot marvel at the Amalekites1 assault made upon the Isra- elites of Ziklag : I cannot but marvel at their clemency. How just was it, that, while David would give aid to the enemies of the Church against Israel, the enemies of the Church should rise against David in his peculiar charge of Israel ! But, while David, roving against the Amalekites, not many days before, left neither man nor woman alive, how strange is it, that the Amalekites, invading and surpris- ing Ziklag, in revenge, kiil neither man nor woman ! Shall we say that mercy is fled from the breasts of Israelites, and rests in hea- thens ? or shall we rather ascribe this to the gracious restraint of God, who, having designed Amalek to the slaughter of Israel, and not Israel to the slaughter of Amalek, moved the hands of Israel, and held the hands of Amalek ? This was that alone, that made the heathens take up with an unbloody revenge; burning only the walls, and leading away the persons. Israel crossed the revealed will of God, in sparing Amalek; Amalek fulfils the secret will of God, in sparing Israel.
It was still the lot of Amalek, to take Israel at all advantages. Upon their first coming out of Egypt, when they were weary, weak, and unarmed, then did Amalek assault them; and now, when one part of Israel was in the field against the Philistines, another was gone with the Philistines against Israel, the Amalekites set upon the coasts of both, and go away laden with the spoil :
ZIKL.AG SPOTTED AND REVENGED.
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no otiier is to be expected of our spiritual adversaries, who are ever readiest to assail, when we are the unreadiest to defend.
It was a woeful spectacle for David and his soldiers upon their return, to find ruins and a»hes, instead of houses ; and instead of their families, solitude. Their city was vanished into smoke, their households into captivity ; neither could they know whom to accuse, or where to incjuire for redress. While they made account, that their home should recompense their tedious journey with comfort, the miserable desolation of their home doubles the discomfort of their journey. What remained there, but tears and lamentations? They lifted up their voices, and wept, till they could weep no more. Here was plenty of nothir.g, hut misery and sorrow.
The heart of every Israelite was brimful of grief. David's ran over ; for, besides that his cross was the same with theirs, all theirs was his alone : each man looked on his fellow as a partner of afflic- tion, but every one looked upon David as the cause of all their affliction ; and, as common displeasure is never but fruitful of re- venge, they all agree to stone him, as the author of their undoing, whom they followed all this while, as the hopeful means of their advancements.
Now David's, loss is his least grief. Neither, as if every thing had conspired to torment him, can he look besides the aggravation of his sorrow and danger. Saul and his soldiers had hunted him out of Israel ; the Philistine courtiers had hunted him from the favour of Achish ; the xVmalekites spoiled him in Ziklag ; yet all these are easy adversaries, in comparison of his own : his own fol- lowers are so far from pitying his participation of the loss, that they are ready to kill him, hecause they arc miserable with him. Oh the many and grievous perplexities of the man after God's own heart ! If all his train had joined their best helps for the mitigation of his grief, their cordials had been too weak ; but now, the vexa- tion, that arises from their fury and malice, drowneth the sense of their loss, and were enough to distract the most resolute heart. Why should it be strange to us, that we meet with hard trials, when we see the dear anointed of God thus plunged in evils ?
What should the distressed son of Jesse now do ? whither should he think to turn him ? To go back to Israel, he durst not ; to go to Achish, he might not; to abide amongst those waste heaps, he could not ; or, if there might have been harbour in those burnt walls, yet there could be no safety to remain with those mutinous spirits. But David comforted himself in the Lord his God. O hap- py and sure refuge of a faithful soul ! The earth yielded him no- thing, but matter of diseonsokition and heaviness : he lifts his eyes above the hills, whence cometh his salvation.
It is no marvel, that God remembereth David in all his troubles, since David in all his troubles did thus remember his God 1 He knew, that, though no mortal eye of reason or sense could discern any evasion from these intricate evils, yet that the eye of divine Providence had descried it long before ; and that though no hu- man power could mako way for his safety, yet that the over-ruliug
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hand of his God could do it with ease. His experience had assured him of the fidelity of his Guardian in heaven, and therefore he comforted himself in the Lord his God.
In vain is comfort expected from God, if we consult not with him. Abiathar the priest is called for. David was not in the court of Achish, without the priest by his side ; nor the priest without the ephod. Had these been left behind in Ziklag, they had been miscarried with the rest, and David had now been hopeless. How well it succeeds to the great, when they take God with them, in his ministers, in his ordinances ! As contrarily, when these are laid by, as superfluous, there can be nothing but uncertainty of suc- cess, or certainty of mischief. The presence of the priest and ephod would have little availed him without their use : by them he asks counsel of the Lord, in these straits.
The mouth and ears of God, which were shut unto Saul, are open unto David: no sooner can he ask, than he receives answer; and the answer that he receives is full of courage and comfort ; Follow, for thou shall surely overtake them, and recover all. That God of truth never disappointed any man's trust. David now finds, that the eye which waited upon God was not sent away weeping.
David therefore, and his men, are now upon their march after the Amalekites. It is no lingering, when God bids us go. Thev, which had promised rest to their weary limbs, after their return from Achish, in their harbour of Ziklag, are glad to forget their hopes, and to put their stiff joints unto a new task of motion. If is no marvel, if two hundred of them were so over-tired with their former toil, that they were not able to pass over the river Besor.
David was a true type of Christ. We follow him in these holy wars, against the spiritual Amalekites. Ail of us are not of an equal strength: some are carried by the vigour of their faith, through all difficulties ; others, after long pressure, are ready to languish in the way. Our leader is not more strong than pitiful ; neither doth he scornfully cashier those, whose desires are hearty, while their abilities are unanswerable. How much more should our charity pardon the infirmities of our brethren ; and allow them to sit by toe stuff, who cannot endure the march !
The same Providence, which appointed David to follow the Amalekites, had also ordered an Egyptian to be cast behind them. This cast servant, whom his cruel master had left to faintness and famine, shall be used as the means, of the recovery of the Israel- ites' loss, and of the revenge of the Amalekites. Had not his mas- ter neglected him, all these rovers of Amalek had gone away with their life and booty. It is not safe, to despise the meanest vassal upon earth. There is a mercy and care due to the most despicable piece of all humanity ; wherein we cannot be wanting without the offence, without the punishment of God.
Charity distinguished! an Israelite from an Amalekite. David's followers are strangers to this Egyptian. An Amalekite was his master. His master leaves him to die (in the field) of sickness and hunger; the^e strangers relieved him: and, ere they know whe-
i
ZIKLAG SPOILED AND REVENGED. 351
ther they might by him receive any light in their pursuit, they re- fresh his dying spirits with bread and water, with figs and raisins ; neither can the haste of their way be any hindrance to their com- passion. He hath no Israelitish blood in him, that is utterly mer- ciless.
Perhaps yet David's followers might also, in the hope of some intelligence, shew kindness to this forlorn Egyptian. Worldly wis- dom teacheth us, to sow small courtesies, where we may reap large harvests of recompence.
No sooner are his spirits recalled, than he requites his food with information. I cannot blame the Egyptian, that he was so easily induced, to descry these unkind Amalekites to merciful Israelites ; those that gave him over unto death, to the restorers of his life : much less, that, ere he would descry them, he requires an oath of security from so bad a master. Well doth he match death with such a servitude.
Wonderful is the providence of God, even over those that are not, in the nearest bonds, his own. Three days and three nig hts, had this poor Egyptian slave lain sick and hunger-starved in the fields, and looks for nothing but death, when God sends him suc- cour from the hands of those Israelites, whom he had helped to spoil : though not so much for his sake, as for Israel's, is this hea- thenish straggler preserved.
It pleases God, to extend his common favours to all his crea- tures ; but in miraculous preservations, he hath still wont to have respect to his own. By this means, therefore, are the Israelites brought to the sight of their late spoilers ; whom they find scat- tered abroad, upon all the earth, eating and drinking, and danc- ing in triumph, for the great prey they had taken.
It was three days, at least, since this gainful foraging of Ama- Jek ; and now, seeing no fear of any pursuer, and promising them- selves safety, in so great and untracetl a distance, they make them- selves merry with so rich and easy a victory ; and now suddenlv, when they began to think of enjoying the beauty and wealth thev had gotten, the sword of David was upon their throats. Destruc- tion is never nearer, than when security hath chased away fear, With how sad faces and hearts, had the wives of David, and the other captives of Israel, looked upon the triumphal revels of Ama- lek ; and what a change, do we think, appeared in them, when they saw their happy and valiant rescuers, flying in upon their in- solent victors, and making the death of the Amalekites, the ransom of their captivity ! They mourned even now at the dances of Amalek: now, in the shrieks and death of Amalek, they shout and rejoice. The mercy of our God forgets not to interchange our sor- rows with joy, and the joy of the wicked with sorrow.
The Amalekites have paid a dear loan for the goods of Israel, which they now restore with their own lives. And now their spoil hath made David richer than he expected : that booty, which they had swept from all other parts, accrued to him.
Those Israelites, that could not go on to fight for their share,
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are come to meet their brethren with grata! ation. How partial arc we wont to be to our own causes ! Even very Israelites will be ready to fall out for matter of profit. Where self-love hath bred a quarrel, every man is subject to flatter his own case. It seemed,
Elausible and but just to the actors in this rescue, that those, which ad taken no part in the pain and hazard of the journey, should re- ceive no part of the commodity. It was favour enough for them to recover their wives and children, though they shared not in the goods. Wise and holy David, whose praise was no less to over- come his own in time of peace than his enemies in war, calls his contending followers from law to equity ; and so orders the mat- ter, that, since the plaintiffs were detained not by will but by ne- cessity, and since their forced stay was useful in guarding the stuff, they should partake equally of the prey with their fellows : i sentence well beseeming the justice of God's anointed. Those, that represent God upon earth, should resemble him in their pro- ceedings. It is the just mercy of our God, to measure us by our wills, not by our abilities ; to recompense us graciously, according to the truth of our desires and endeavours ; and to account that per- formed by us, which he only letteth us from performing: It were wide with us, if sometimes purpose did not supply actions. While our heart faulteth not, we, that through spiritual sickness are fain to abide by the stuff, shall share both in grace and glory with the victors. 1 Sam. .r.r.r.
THE DEATH OF SAUL.
The Witch of Endor had half slain Saul, before the battle : it is just, that they, who consult with devils, should go awav with discomfort. He hath eaten his last bread, at the hand of a sor- ceress: and now necessity draws him into that field, where he sees nothing but despair. Had not Saul believed the ill news of the counterfeit Samuel, he had not been struck down on the ground with words : now" his belief made him desperate. Those actions, which are not sustained by hope, must needs languish ; and are- only promoted by outward compulsion. While the mind is uncer- tain of success, it relieves itself with the possibilities of good : in doubts, there is a comfortable mixture ; but when it is assured of the worst event, it is utterly discouraged and dejected. It hath there- fore pleased the wisdom of God, to hide from wicked men his de- termination of their final estate, that their remainders of hope may hearten them to good.
In all likelihood, one self-same day saw David a victor over the Amalekites, and Saul discomfited by the Philistines. How should it be otherwise? David consulted with God, and prevailed ; Saul with the Witch of Endor, and perisheth. The end is commonly answerable to the way. It is an idle injustice, when we do ill, to look to speed well.
The slaughter of Saul and his sons was not in the first scene of
THE DEATH OF SAUL.
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ihis tragical field : that was rather reserved by God for the last act, that Saul's measure might be full. God is long, ere he strikes ; but when he doth, it is to purpose.
First, Israel flees and falls down wounded in Mount Gilboa. They had their part in Saul's sin ; they were actors in David's persecution : justly therefore do they suffer with him, whom they had seconded in offence. As it is hard to be good under an evil prince, so it is as rare not to be enwrapped in his judgments. It was no small addi- tion to the anguish of Saul's death; to see his sons dead; to see his people fleeing, and slain before him. They had sinned in their king, and in them is their king punished.
The rest were not so worthy of pity ; but whose heart would it not touch to see Jonathan, the good son of a wicked father, involv- ed in the common destruction ? Death is not partial. AH dispo- sitions, all merits, are alike to it ; if valour, if holiness, if since- rity of heart, could have been any defence against mortality, Jona- than had survived : now by their wounds and death, no man can discern which is Jonathan. The soul only finds the difference, which the body admitteth not. Death is the common gate both to heaven and hell ; we all pass that, ere our turning to either hand. The sword of the Philistines fetcheth Jonathan through it, with his fellows. No sooner is his foot over that threshold, than God conducteth him to glory. The best cannot be happy, but through their dissolution. Now therefore hath Jonathan no cause of complaint. He is, by the rude and cruel hand of a PhUistine, but removed to a better kingdom, than he leaves to his brother ; and, at once, is his death both a temporal affliction to the son of Saul, and an entrance of glory to the friend of David.
The Philistine archers shot at random. God directs their arrows into the body of Saul. Lest the discomfiture of his people, and the slaughter of his sons should not be grief enough to him, he feels himself wounded, and sees nothing before him but horror and death ; and now, as a man forsaken of all (hopes, he begs of his armour-bearer that death' s-blow, which else he must, to the dou- bling of his indignation, receive from a Philistine. He begs this bloody favour of his servant, and is denied. Such an awfulness hath God placed in sovereignty, that no intreaty, no extremity, can move the hand against it. What metal are tlio.se men made of, that can suggest, or resolve, and attempt the violation of majesty?,
Wicked men care more for the shame of the world, than the dan- ger of their souls. Desperate Saul will now supply his armour- bearer ; and as a man that bore arms against himself, he falls upon his own sword. What if he had died by the weapon of a Phi- listine ? so did his son Jonathan, and lost no glory. These con- ceits of disreputation prevail with carnal hearts, above all spiritual respects. There is no greater murderer, than vain-glory. Nothing more argues a heart void of grace, than to be transported by idle popularity into actions prejudicial to the soul.
Evil examples, especially of the great; never escaped imitation.
VOL. I. A A
554
CONTEMPLATIONS.
The armour-bearer of Saul follows his master ; and dares do that to himself, which to his king he durst not : as if their own swords had been more familiar executioners, they yielded unto them, what 'they grudged to their pursuers.
From the beginning was Saul ever his own enemy ; neither did any hands hurt him, but his own : and now his death is suitable to his life: his own hand pays him the reward of all his wickedness.
The end of hypocrites and envious men is commonly fearful. Now is the blood of God's priests which Saul shed, and of David which he would have shed, required and requited.
The evil spirit had said, the evening before, To-morrow t/iou shalt be with vie ; and now Saul hasteth to make the devil no liar. Rather than fail, he gives himself his own mittimus.
Oh the woeful extremities of a despairing soul, plunging him ever into a greater mischief to avoid the less ! He might have been a patient in another's violence, and faultless ; now, while he will needs act the Philistines' part upon himself, lte lived and died a murderer. The case is deadly, when the prisoner breaks the jail, and will not stay for his delivery : and though we may not pass sen- tence upon such a soul, yet upon the fact we may : the soul may possibly repent in the parting ; the act is heinous, and such as, without repentance, kills the soul.
It was the next day, ere the Philistines knew how much they were victors ; then finding the dead corpse of Saul and his sons, they begin their triumphs. The head of king Saul is cut ofi' in lieu of Goliath's ; and now all their idol temples ring of their suc- cess. Foolish Philistines! if they had not been more beholden to Saul's sins than their gods, they had never carried away tlie honour of those trophies. Instead of magnifying the justice of the tru« God, who punished Saul with deserved death, they magnify the power of the false. Superstition is extremely injurious to God. It is no better than theft, to ascribe unto the second causes, that honour which is due unto the first ; but to give God's glory to those things, which neitheractnor are, it is the highest degree of spiritual robbery.
Saul was none of the best kings ; yet, so impatient are his sub- jects of the indignity offered to his dead corpse, that they will ra- ther leave their own bones amongst the Philistines, than the carcase of Saul. Such a close relation there is betwixt a prince and sub- ject, that the dishonour of either is inseparable from both. How willing should we be to hazard our bodies or substance, for the vindiciition either of the person or name of a good king, while he lives to the benefit of our protection? It is an unjust ingratitude in those men, which can endure the disgrace of them, under whose shelter they live ; but how unnatural is the villany of those mis- creants, that can be content to be actors in the capital wrongs of- fered to sovereign authority !
It were a wonder, if, after the death of a prince, there should want some pickthank, to insinuate himself into his successor. An Amalekitc young man rides post to Ziklag, to find out David,
THE DEATH OK SAUL.
355
whom even common rumour had notified for the anointed heir to the kingdom of Israel ; to be the first messenger of that news, which he thought could be no other than acceptable, the death of Saul : and that the tidings might be so much more meritorious, he adds to the report, what he thinks might carry the greatest retri- bution. In hope of reward or honour, the man is content to belie himself to David. It was not the spear, but the sword of Saul, that was the instrument of his death ; neither could this stranger find Saul but dying, since the armour-bearer of Saul saw him dead, ere he offered that violence to himself. The hand of this Ama- lekite therefore was not guilty ; his tongue was.
Had not this messenger measured David's foot by his own last, he had forborne this piece of the news ; and not hoped to advantage himself by this falsehood. Now he thinks; " The tidings of a kingdom cannot but please. None but Saul and Jonathan stood in David's way, he cannot chuse, but like to hear of their removal; especially, since Saul did so tyrannously persecute his innocence. If I shall only report the fact done by another, I shall go away but with the rccompence of a lucky post ; whei'eas, if I take upon me the action, I am the man, to whom David is beholden for the kingdom : he cannot but honour and requite me, as the author of his deliverance and happiness." Worldly minds think no man can be of* any other, than their own diet ; and because they find the respects of self-love and private profit so strongly prevailing with themselves, they cannot conceive how these should be capable of a repulse from others.
How much was this Amalekite mocked of his hopes ! Whilehe imagined that David would now triumph and feast in the assured expectation of the kingdom, and possession of the crown of Israel, he finds him rending his clothes, and wringing his hands, and weep- ing, and mourning ; as if all his comfort had been dead with Saul and Jonathan: and yet perhaps he thought, " This sorrow of Da- vid is but fashionable ; such as great heirs make shew of in the fa- tal day they have longed for : these tears will be soon dry ; the sight of a crown will soon breed a succession of other passions :" but this error is soon corrected ; for, when David had entertained this bearer with a sad fast all the day, he calls him forth in the evening to execution ; How wast thou not afraid, saith he, to put forth thine hand to destroy the anointed of the Lord ?
Doubtless, the Amalekite made many fair pleas for himself, out of the grounds of his own report : " Alas, Saul was before fallen upon his own spear. It was but mercy to kill him, that was half dead, that he might die the shorter. Besides, his entreaty and im- portunate prayers moved me, to hasten him through those painful gates of death. Had I stricken him as an enemy, I had deserved the blow I had given ; now I lent him the hand of a friend. Why am I punished for obeying the voice of a king ? and for perfecting what himself be^un, and could not finish ? And if neither his own wound nor mine had dispatched him, the Philistines were at his heels, eady to do this same act with insujtation, which I did in favour ;
356
CONTEMPLATIONS.
and if my hand had not prevented him, where had been the crown of Israel, which I now have here presented to thee ? I could have delivered that to king Achish, and have been rewarded with ho- nour. Let me not die, for an act well meant to thee, howev er con- strued by thee."
But no pretence can make his own tale not deadlv ; Thy blood be upon thine own head ; for thine own mouth hath testified against thee, saying, I have slain the Lord's anointed. It is a just suppo- sition, that every man is so great a favourer of himself, that he will not mis-report his own actions, nor say the worst of himself. In matter of confession, men may without injury be taken at their words. If he did it, his fact was capital ; if he did it not, his lie. It is pity any other recompence should befal those false flatterers, that can be content to father a sin to get thanks. Every drop of royal blood is sacred : for a man to say that he hath shed it, is mortal. Of how far diderent spirits from this of David's, are those men, which suborn the death of princes, and celebrate and canonize the murderers! Into their secret let not my soul come ; my glory, be thou ?wt joined to their assembly.
1 Sam. xxxi. 1 Chron. x.
ABNER AND JOAB.
How merciful and seasonable are the provisions of God ! Ziklag was now nothing but ruins and ashes. David might return to the soil where it stood ; to the roofs and walls, he could not. No sooner is he disappointed of that harbour, than God provides him cities of Hebron. Saul shall die to give him elbow-room.
Now doth David find the comfort that his extremity sought, in the Lord his God. Now are his clouds for a time passed over, and the sun breaks gloriously forth. David shall reign after his suffer- ings. So shall we, if we endure to the end, find A crown of righ- teousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give us at that day.
But though David well knew that his head was long before anointed, and had heard Saul himself confidently avouching his succession ; yet he will not stir from the heaps of Ziklag, till he have consulted with the Lord. It did not content him, that he had God's warrant for the kingdom ; but he must have his instructions for the taking possession of it. How safe and happy is the man, that is resolved to do nothing without God ! Neither will generali- ties of direction be sufficient : even particular circumstances must look for a word. Still is God a pillar of fire and cloud to the eye of every Israelite ; neither may there be any motion or stay but from him. -That action cannot but succeed, which proceeds upon so sure a warrant.
God sends him to Hebron, a city of Judah. Neither will Da- vid go up thither alone ; but lie takes with him all his men, with their whole house iolds : they shall take suck part as himself: as
ABNER AND JOAB. 357
they had shared with him in his misery, so they shall now in his prosperity. Neither doth he take advantage of their late mutiny, which was yet fresh and green, to cashier those unthankful and un- gracious followers; but, pardoning their secret rebellions, he makes tliem partakers of his good success. Thus doth our heavenly Leader, whom David prefigured, take us to reign with him who have suffered with him : passing by our manifold infirmities, as if they had not been, he removeth us from the land of our banish- ment, and the ashes of our forlorn Ziklag, to the Hebron of our peace and glory. The expectation of this day must, as it did with David's soldiers, digest all our sorrows.
Never any calling of God was so conspicuous, as not to find some opposites. What Israelite did not know David appointed by God to the succession of the kingdom ? Even the Amalekite could carry the crown to him, as the true owner ; yet there wants not. an Abner to resist him, and the title of an Ishbosheth to colour his resistance.
If anv of Saul's house could have made challenge to the crown, it should have been Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan ; who, it seems, had too much of his father's blood, to be a competitor with David.
The question is not, who may claim the most right, but who may best serve the faction. Neither was Ishbosheth any other than Abner's stale. Saul could not have a fitter courtier : whether in the imitation of his master's envy, or the ambition of ruling under a borrowed name, he strongly opposed David. There are those, who strive against their own hearts, to make a side; with whom conscience is oppressed by affection. An ill quarrel, once under- taken, shall be maintained, although with blood. Now, not so much the blood of Saul, as the engagement of Abner, makes the War.
The sons of Zeruiah stand fast to David. It is much, how a man placeth his first interest. If Abner had been in Joab's room, when Saul's displeasure drove David from the court, or Joab in Ab- ner's, these actions, these events had been changed with the per- sons. It was the only happiness of Joab, that he fell on the bet- ter side.
Both the commanders under David and Ishbosheth were equally cruel : both are so inured to blood, that tiiey make but a sport of killing. Custom makes sin so familiar, that the horror of it is to some turned into pleasure; Come, let the. young men play before vs. Abner is the challenger, and speeds thereafter ; for though in the matches of duel both sides miscarried, yet in the following con- flict Abner and his men are beaten : by the success of those single combats, no man knows the better of the cause : both sides perish, to show how little God liked either the ofler, or the acceptation of such a trial ; but when both did their best, God punisheth the wrong part with discomfiture.
Oh the misery of civil dissension ! Israel and Judah were bre- thren. One carried the name of the father, the other of the son.
358 CONTEMPLATIONS.
Judah was but a branch of Israel ; Israel was the root of Judah : yet Israel and Judah must right, and kill each other ; only upon the quarrel of an ill leader's ambition. •
The speed of Asahel was not greater than his courage. It was a mind fit for one of David's worthies, to strike at the head, to match himself with the best. He was both swift and strong ; but The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. If he had gone never so slowly, he miglit have overtaken death : now he runs to fetch it.
So little lust had Abner to shed the blood of a son of Zeruiah, that he twice advises him to retreat from pursuing his own peril. Asahel's cause was so much hetter as Abner's success. Many a one miscarries in the rash prosecution of a good quarrel, when the abettors of the worst part go away with victory. Heat of zeal, sometimes in the indiscreet pursuit of a just adversary, proves mortal to the agent, prejudicial to the service.
Abner, while he kills, yet he flies ; and runs away from his own death, while he inflicts it upon another.
David's followers had the better of the field and day. The sun, as unwilling to see any more IsraeHtish blood shed by bre- thren, hath withdrawn himself : and now, both parts having got the advantage of a hill under them, have safe convenience or par- ley. Abner begins ; and persuades Joab to surcease the fight ; Shall the sword devour for ever ? Knottiest thou not, that it will be bitterness in the end ? How long shall it be, ere thou bid the peo- ple return from following their brethren ? It was his fault, that the sword devoured at all : and why was not the beginning of a civil war, bitterness ? Why did he call forth the people to skir- mish, and invite them to death ?
Had Abner been on the winning hand, this motion had been thankworthy. It is a noble disposition in a victor, to call for a cessation of arms ; whereas, necessity wrings this suit from the over-mastered. There cannot be a greater praise, to a valiant and wise commander, than a propensionto all just terms of peace: for war, as it is sometimes necessary, so it is always evil ; and if fight- ing have any other end proposed besides peace, it proves murder.
Abner shall find himself no less overcome by Joab, in clemency, than power. He says not, " I will not so easily leave the advan- tage of my victory : since the dice of war run on my side, I wdl follow the chance of my good success : thou shouldest have consi- dered of this before thy provocation : it is now too late, to move unto forbearance:" but, as a man that meant to approve himself equally free, from cowardice in the beginning of the conflict, and from cruelty in the end, he professeth his forwardness to entertain any pretence of sheathing up the swords of Israel ; and swears to Abner, that if it had not been for his proud irritation, the people had in the morning before ceased from that bloody pursuit of their brethren. As it becomes public persons to be lovers of peace, so they must shew it upon all good occasions : letting pass no oppor- tunity of making spare of blood.
ABNER AND .FOAB. 359
Ishbosheth was, it seems, a man of no great spirits ; for, bcint^ no less than forty years old, when his father went into his last held against the Philistines, he was content to stay at home. Ahner hath put ambition into him ; and hath easily raised him to the head of a faction, against the anointed prince of God's people. If this usurped crown of Saul's son had any worth or glory in it, he cannot but acknowledge to owe it all unto Abner ; yet how for- ward is unthankful Ishbosheth, to receive a false suggestion against his chief abettor: Wherefore hast thou gone into my father's con- cubine? He, that made no conscience of an unjust claim to the crown and a maintenance of it with blood, yet seems scrupulous of a less sin, that carried in it the colour of a disgrace. The touch of her, who had been honoured by his father's bed, seemed an in- tolerable presumption, and such as could not be severed from his own dishonour. Self-love sometimes borrows the face of honest zeal. Th6se, who out of true grounds dislike sins, do hate them all indifferently, according to their heinousness : hypocrites are partial in their detestation ; bewraving ever most bitterness against those offences, which may most prejudice their persons and repu- tations.
It is as dangerous as unjust, for princes to give both their ears and their heart to misgrounded rumours of their innocent followers. This wrong hath stripped Ishbosheth of the kingdom.
Abner, in the mean time, cannot be excused from a treacherous inconstancy. If Saul's son had no true title to the crown, why did he maintain it ? If he had, why did he forsake the cause and per* son? Had Abner, out of remorse for furthering a false claim, taken off his hand, I know not wherein he could be blamed, ex- cept for not doing it sooner ; but now to withdraw his professed allegiance, upon a private revenge, was to take a lewd leave of an ill action. If Ishbosheth were his lawful prince, no injury could warrant a revolt. Even betwixt private persons, a return of wrongs is both uncharitable and unjust; however this go current for the common justice of the world : how much more should we learn, from a supreme hand, to take hard measures with thanks ! It had been Abner's duty, to have given his king a peaceable and humble satisfaction, and not to fly out in a snuff. If the spirit of the ruler rise up against thee, leave not thy place ; for yielding pacifieth great offences : now his impatient falling, although to the right side, makes him no better than traitorously honest.
So soon as Abner had entertained a resolution of his rebellion, he persuades the elders of Israel to accompany him in the change : and whence doth he fetch his main motive, but from the oracle of God ? The Lord hath spoken of David, saying, By the hand of my servant David, will I save my people Israel, out of the hand of the Philistines, and out of the hand of all their enemies. Abner knew this full well before ; yet then was well content, to smother a known truth for his own turn ; and, now the publication of it mav serve for his advantage, he wins the heart of Israel, by shewing God's charter for him, whom he had so long opposed. Hypocrite*
360
CONTEMPLATIONS.
make use of God for their own purposes ; and care only, to mate divine authority a colour for their own designs. No man ever heard Abner godly till now ; neither had he been so at this time, if he had not intended a revengeful departure from Ishbosheth. Nothing is more odious, than to make religion a stalking horse to policy.
Who can but glorify God in his justice, when he sees the bitter end of this treacherous dissimulation ? David may, upon conside- rations of state, entertain his new guest with a feast ; and well might he seem to deserve a welcome, that undertakes to bring all Israel to the league and homage of David : but God never meant to use so unworthy means, for so good a work. Joab returns from pursuing a troop ; and, finding Abner dismissed in peace and ex- pectation of beneficial return, follows him; and, whether out of envy at a new rival of honour, or out of the revenge of Asahel, he repays him both dissimulation and death. God doth most justly by Joab, that which Joab did for himself most unjustly .
I know not, setting the quarrel aside, whether we can worthily blame Abner for the death of Asahel, who would needs, after fair warnings, run himself upon Abner' s spear ; yet this fact shall pro- cure his payment for worse. Now is Ishbosheth's wrong revenged by an enemy. We may not always measure the justice of God's proceedings, by present occasions. He needs not make us ac- quainted, or ask us leave, 'when he will call for the arrearages of for- gotten sins, 2$am.ii,iii\
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XV.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY VERY GOOD LORD,
WILLIAM, LORD BURLEIGH,
ALL GRACE AND HAPPINESS,
RIGHT HONOURABLE !
There are but two books wherein we can read God ; the one is his Word, his Works the other : this is the bigger volume; that, the more exquisite. The characters of this are more large, but di?n ; of that, smaller, but clearer. Philosophers have turned over this, and erred ; that, divines and studious Christians, not with, out full and certain information. In the works of God we see the shadow, or footsteps of the Creator ; in his word we see the face of God in a glass. Happiness consists in the vision of that infinite Majesty ; and if we be perfectly happy above in seeing him face to face, our happiness is well forward below, in seeing the lively re- presentation of his face in the glass of the Scriptures. We cannot spend our eyes too much upon this object : for me, the more I see, /he more I am amazed, the more I am ravished, with this glorious' beauty. With the honest lepers, I cannot be content to enjoy this happy sight alone t there is but one way to every man's felicity. May it please your Lordship to take pari with many your peers, in these my weak, but not unprofitable Contemplations ; which shall hold themselves not a little graced with your honourable name; whereto, together -with your right noble and most -worthy Lady, I have gladly devoted myself, to be
i our Lordship's in all dutiful observance,
JOSEPH HALL.
UZZAH, AND THE AUK REMOVED.
The house of Saul is quiet ; the Philistines beaten i victory can- not end better than in devotion ; David is no sooner settled in his house at Jerusalem, than he fetcheth God to be his guest there. The thousands of Israel go now in a holy march, to bring up the ark of God to the place of his rest. The tumults of war afforded no opportunity of this service. Only peace is a friend to religion ; neither is peace ever our friend, but when it is a servant of piety. The use of war is not more pernicious to the body, than the abuse
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CONTEMPLATION?.
of peace is to the soul. Alas ! the riot bred of our long case ra- ther drives the ark of God from us ; so, the still sedentary life is subject to diseases, and standing waters putrify. It may be just with God, to take away the blessing which we do so much abuse ; and to scour off our rust with bloody war.
The ark of God had now many years rested in the obscure lodge of Abinadab, without the honour of a tabernacle. David will not endure himself glorious, and the ark of God contemptible. His first care is, to provide a fit room for God, in the head of the tribes, in his own city. The chief care of good princes must be the advancement of religion. What should the deputies of God rather do, than honour him whom they represent ?
It was no good, that Israel could learn of Philistines. Those pagans had sent the ark back in a new cart; the Israelites saw God blessed that conduct, and now they practise it at home : but that, which God will take from Philistines, he will not brook from Is- rael. Aliens from God are no fit patterns for children. Divine institution had made this a carriage for the Levites, not for oxen : neither should those sons of Abinadab have driven the cart, but carried that sacred burden. God's businesses must be done after his own forms, which if we do with the best intentions alter, we presume.
It is long, since Israel saw so fair a day as this ; wherein they went, in this holy triumph, to fetch the ark of God. Now their warlike trumpets are turned into harps and timbrels ; and their hands, in- stead of wielding the sword and spear, strike upon those musical strings, whereby they might express the joy of their hearts. Here was no noise but of mirth ; no motion but pleasant. O happv Is- rael, that had a God to rejoice in, that had this occasion of rejoic- ing in their God, and a heart that embraced tliis occasion ! There is nothing but this, wherein we may not joy immoderately, unsea- sonably: this spiritual jov can never be either out of time, or out of measure. Let him that rejoice th, rejoice in the Lord.
But now, when the Israelites were in the midst of this angel-like jollity, their hearts lifted up, their hands playing, their feet moving, their tongues singing and shouting, God sees good to strike them into a sudden dump, by the death of Uzzah. They are scarce set into the tune, when God mars their music, by a fearful judgment ; and changes their mirth into astonishment and confusion. There could not be a more excellent work, than this they were about; there could not be more cheerful hearts in the performing of it ; yet will the most hoi)- God rather das!) all this solemn service, than endure an act of presumption or infidelity.
Abinadab had been the faithful host of God's ark, for the space of twenty years : even in the midst of the terrors of Israel, who were justly affrighted with die vengeance inflicted upon Bethslie- mesh, did he give harbour unto it ; yet even the son of Abinadab is stricken dead, in the first departing of that blessed guest. The sanctity of the parent cannot bear out the sin of his son. The
UZZAH, AND THE ARK REMOVED. 363
Holy One of Israel will be sanctified in all that come near him : he will be served like himself.
Whafttoen was the sin of Uzzah? What was the capital crime, for which he so fearfully perished ? That the ark of God was com- mitted to the cart, it was not his device only, but the common act of many ; that it was not carried on the shoulders of Levites, was no less the fault of Ahio, and the rest of their brethren ; only Uz- zah is stricken. The rest sinned in negligence ; he, in presumption. The ark of God shakes with the agitation of that carriage ; he puts forth his hand to hold it steady. Human judgment would have found herein nothing heinous. God sees not with the eyes of men. None but the priests should have dared to touch the ark ; it was enough for the Levites, to touch the bars that carried it. An un- warranted hand cannot so lightly touch the ark, but he strikes the God that dwells in it. No marvel if God strike that man with death, that strikes him with presumption. There was well-near the same quarrel against the thousands of Betiishemesh, and against Uzzah : they died for looking into the ark ; he, for touching it. Lest Israel should grow into a contemptuous familiarity with this testimony of God's presence, lie will hold them in awe with judg- ments.
The revenging hand of the Almighty, that, upon the return of the ark stayed at the house of Abinadab, upon the remove of the ark begins there again. Where are those, that think God will take up with a careless and slubbered service ? He, whose infinite mer- cy uses to pass by our sins of infirmity, punisheth yet severely our bold faults. If we cannot do any thing in the degrees that he re- quireth, yet we must learn to do all things in the form that he re- quireth.
Doubtless Uzzah meant no otherwise than well, in putting forth his hand to stay the ark. He knew the sacred utensils that were in it, the pot of manna, the tables of the law, the rod of Aaron, which might be wronged by that, over-rough motion : to these he offers his aid, and is stricken dead. The best intention cannot ex- cuse, much less warrant us, in unlawful actions. Where we do aught in faith, it pleaseth our good God to wink at and pity our weaknesses; but if we dare to present God with the well-meant services of our own making, we run into the indignation of God. There is nothing more dangerous, than to be our own carvers in matter of devotion.
I marvel not if the countenance of David were suddenly changed, to sec the pale face of death in one of the chief actors in this holy procession. He, that had found God so favourable to him in ac- tions of less worth, is troubled to see this success of a business so heartily directed unto his God ; and now he begins to look through Uzzah at himself, and to say, JIoio shall the ark of the Lord conu to vie? Then only shall we make a right use of the judgment^ of God upon others, when we shall fear them in ourselves; and. finding our sins at least equal, shall tremble at the expectation ot the same deserved punishments. God intends, not only revenge in
36* CONTEMPLATIONS.
his execution, but reformation: as good princes regard, not so much the smart of the evil past, as the prevention of the future ; which is never attained, but when we make applications* of God's hand, and draw common causes, out of God's particular proceed- ings.
I do not hear David say, " Surely, this man is guilty of some secret sin, that the world knows not. God hath met with him. There is no danger to us. Why should I be discouraged to see God just t We may go on safely and prosper." But here his foot stays, and his hand falls from his instrument, and his tongue is ready to tax his own unworthiness ; How shall the ark of the Lord come unto vie ? That heart is carnal and proud, that thinks any man worse than himself.
David's fear stays his progress. Perhaps he might have pro- ceeded with good success, but he dares not venture where he sees such a deadly check. It is better to be too fearful than too for- ward, in those affairs which do immediately concern God-. As it is not good, to refrain from holy businesses, so it is worse to do them ill. Awfulness is a safe interpreter of God's secret actions, and a wise guide of ours.
This event hath helped Ohed-Edom to a guest he looked not for. God shall now sojourn in the house of him, in whose heart he dwelt before by a strong faith : else the man durst not have undertaken to receive that dreadful ark, which David himself feared to har- bour. Oh the courage of an honest and faithful heart ! Obed- Edom knew well enough what slaughter the ark had made amongst the Philistines, and after that amongst the Bethshemites, and now he saw Uzzah lie dead before him ; yet doth he not make any scru- ple of entertaining it; neither doth he sav, " My neighbour Abin- adab was a careful and religious host to the ark, and is now payed with the blood of his son ; how shall I hope to speed better r" But he opens his doors with a bold cheerfulness, and notwithstanding all those terrors, bids God welcome. Nothing can make God not amiable to his own. Even his very justice is lovely. Holy men know how to rejoice in the Lord with trembling ; and can fear without discouragement.
The God of heaven will not receive anything from men, on free cost. He will pay liberally for his lodging ; a plentiful blessing upon Obed-Edom and all his household. It was an honour to that zealous Gittite, that the ark should come under his roof ; yet God rewards that honour with benediction : never man was loser by true godliness.
The bouse of Obed-Edom cannot this while want observation. The eyes of David and all Israel were never off from it, to see how it fared with this entertainment ; and now, when they find nothing but a gra- cious acceptation and sensible blessing, the good king of Israel takes new heart, and hastens to fetch the ark into his royal city. The view of God's favours upon the godly, is no small encourage- ment to confidence and obedience. Doubtless, Obed-Edom was not free from some weaknesses. If the Lord should have taken the
UZZAH, AND THE ARK REMOVED. 36S
advantage of judgment against him, what Israelites had not been disheartened from attending the ark ? Now, David and Israel were not more affrighted with the vengeance upon Uzzah, than encou- raged by the blessing of Obed-Edoin. The wise God doth so order his just and merciful proceedings, that the awfulness of meij may be tempered by love.
Now the sweet singer of Israel revives his holy music ; and adds both more spirit and more pomp to so devout a business. I did not before hear of trumpets, nor dancing, nor shouting, nor sacrifice, nor the linen ephod. The sense of God's past displeasure doubles our care to' please him, and our joy in his recovered approbation. We never make so much of our health, as after sickness; nor never are so officious to our friend, as after an unkindness.
In the first setting out of the ark, David's fear was at least an. equal match to his joy ; therefore, after the first six paces, he effered a sacrifice, both to pacify God and thank him : but now, when they saw no sign of dislike, they did more freely let them- selves loose to a fearless joy ; and the body strove to express the holy affection of the soul. There was no limb, no part, that did not profess their mirth by motion ; no noise of voice or instrument wanted to assist their spiritual jollity. David led the way, dancing with all his might in ins linen ephod. Uzzah was still in his eye: he durst not usurp upon a garment of priests ; but will borrow their colour to grace the solemnity, though he dare not the fashion. White was ever the colour of joy, and linen was light for use ; therefore he covers his princely robes with white linen, .and means to honour himself by his conformity to God's ministers.
Those, that think there is disgrace, in the ephod, are far from the spirit of the man after God's own heart : neither can there be a greater argument of a foul soul, than a dislike of the glorious calling of God. Barren Michal hath too many sons, that scorn the holy habit and exercises : she looks through her window, and seeing the attire and gestures of her devout husband, despiseth him in her heart; neither can she conceal her contempt, but, like Saul's1 daughter, casts it proudly in his face; Oh, how glorious was the king of Israel this day ; which was uncovered this day in the eyes of the maidens of his servants, as a fool uncovereth himself! World- ly hearts can see nothing in actions of zeal, but folly and madness, Piety hath no relisfi to their palate, but distasteful.
David's heart did never swell so much at any reproach, as this of his wife: his love was for the time lost in' his anger; and, as a man impatient of no affront so much as in the way of his devo- tion, he returns a bitter check to his Michal ; It was before the Lord, which chose mc rather than thy father, and all his house, iSfo Had not Michal twitted her husband with the shame of his zeal, she had not heard of the shameful rejection of her father ; now, since she will be forgetting whose wife she was, she shall be put in mind whose daughter she was. Contumelies, that are cast upon us in the causes of God, may safely be repaid. If ue be
366 CONTEMPLATIONS.
meal-mouthed in the scorns of religion, we are not patient, but 2ealless : here, we may not forbear her, that lies in our bosom.
If David had not loved Michal dearly, he had never stood upon those points with Abner. He knew, that if Abner came to him, the kingdom of Israel would accompaay him ; and yet he sends him the charge of not seeing his face, except he brought Michal, Saul's daughter, with him ; as if he would not regard the crown of Israel, while he wanted that wife of his ! yet here he takes her up roundly, as if she had been an euemv, not a partner of his bed. All relations are aloof off, in comparison of that betwixt God and the soul. He, that loves father, or mother, or wife, or child, belter than me, saith our Saviour, is not worthy of me. Even the highest delights of our hearts must be trampled upon, when they will stand out in rivality with God.
O happy resolution of the royal prophet, and prophetical king of Israel ! / will be yet more vile than thus, and will be low in mine own sight. He knew this very abasement heroical ; and that the only way to true glory, is, not to be ashamed of our lowest hu- miliation unto God. Well might he promise himself honour from those, whose contempt she had tlueatened. The hearts of men are not their own : he, that made them overrules them, and inclines them to an honourable conceit of those that honour their Maker ; so as holy men have oft-times inward reverence, even where they have outward indignities.
David came to bless his house ; Michal brings a curse upon her- self. Her scorns shall make her childless to the day of her death. Barrenness was held in those times none of the least judgments. God doth so revenge David's quarrel upon Michal, that her sudden disgrace shall be recompensed with perpetual. She shall not be held worthy to bear a son, to him whom she unjustly contemned. How just is it with God, to provide whips for the backs of scorners ! It is no marvel, if those that mock at goodness be plagued with continual fruklessness. 2 Sam. vi. 1 Chron. xiii.
MEPHIBOSHETH AND ZIBA.
So soon as ever David can but breathe himself from the public cares, he casts back his thoughts to the dear remembrance of hU Jonathan.
Saul's servant is likely to give him the best intelligence of Saul's sons. The question is therefore moved to Ziba ; Remaineth there none of the house of Saul t And, lest suspicion might conceal the remainders of an emulous line, in fear of revenge intended, he. adds, On whom I may shew the mercy of God for Jonathan's sake. O friendship worthy of the monuments of eternity ! Fit only to requite him, whose love was more than the love of women!
He doth not say, " Is there any of the house of Jonathan \ but, " of Saul ?" that, for his friend's sake, be^uay shejv favour
MEPHIBOSHETH AND ZIBA. 36*7
to the posterity of" His persecutor. Jonathan's love could not be greater than Saul's in.ilice, which also survived long in his issue ; from whom David found a busy and stubborn rivahy for the crown of Israel: yet, as one that gladly buried all the hostility of Saul's house in Jonathan's grave, he asks, Is there any man left (if Saul's house, that I may shew him mercy for Jonathan's sake S It is true love, that, overliving the person of a friend, will be inherited of his seed ; but to love the posterity of an enemy in a friend, it is the miracle of friendship. The formal amity of the world is con- fined to a face ; or to the possibility of recompence ; languishing in the disability, and dying in the decease of the party affected. That love was ever false, that is not ever constant, and the most operative, when it cannot be either known or requited.
To cut off all unquiet competition for the kingdom of Israel, the providence of God had so ordered, that there is none left of the house of Saul, besides the sons of his concubines, save only young and lame Mephibosheth : so young, that he was but five years of age, when David entered upon the government of Israel ; so lame, that, if his age had fitted, his impotence had made him imHt for the throne.
Mephibosheth was not born a cripple : it was a heedless nurse, that made him so : she, hearing of the death of Saul and Jona- than, made such haste to flee, that her young master was lamed with the fall. I wis, there needed no such speed to run away from David ; whose love pursues the hidden son of his brother Jonathan. How often doth our ignorant mistaking cause us to run from our best friends ; and to catch knocks and maims, of them that profess our protection !
Mephibosheth could not come otherwise than fearfully into the presence of David, whom he knew so long, so spitefully, opposed by the house of Saul. He could not be ignorant, that the fashion of the world is, to build their own security upon the blood of the opposite faction ; neither to think themselves safe, while any branch remains springing out of that root of their emulation : seasonably doth David therefore, first, expel all those unjust doubts, ere he administer his further cordials; Fear not, for I will surely shew thee kindness, for Jonathan thy father'' s sake ; and will restore thee all the fields of Saul thy father ; and thou shalt eat bread at my ta- ble continually.
David can see neither Saul's blood, nor lame legs, in Mephibo- sheth, while he sees in him the features of his friend Jonathan : how much less shall the God of mercies regard our infirmities, or the corrupt blood of our sinful progenitors, while he beholds us in the face of his Son, in whom he is well pleased !
Favours are wont so much more to affect us, as they are less ex- pected by us. Mephibosheth, as overjoyed with so comfortable a word, and confounded in himself at the remembrance of the con- trary deservings of his family, bows himself to the earth, and says, What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am f
363 CONTEMPLATIONS.
I find no defect of wit, though of limbs, in Mephibosheth : he knew himself the grand-child of the king of Israel, the son of Jo- nathan, the lawful heir of both ; yet, in regard of his own impo- tency, and the trespass and rejection of his house, he thus abaseth himself unto David. Humiliation is a right use of God's afflic- tion. What if he were born great ? If the sin of his grand-father hath lost his estate, and the hand of his nurse hath deformed and disabled his person, he now forgets what he was, and calls himself worse than he is, A di)g : yet, A Iking dog is better than a dead lion ; there is dignity and comfort in life ; Mephibosheth is there- fore a dead dog unto David. It is not for us to nourish the same spirits in our adverse estate, that we found in our highest prospe- rity. What use have we made of God's hand, if we be not the lower with our fall r God intends we should carry our cross, not make a fire of it to warm us. It is no bearing up our sails in a tempest.
Good David cannot disesteem Mephibosheth ever the more for disparaging himself : he loves and honours this humility in the son of Jonathan. There is no more certain way to glory and advance- ment, than a lowly dejection of ourselves. He, that made himself a dog, and therefore fit only to lie under the table, yea a dead dog, and therefore fit only for the ditch, is raised up to the table of a king; his seat shall be honourable, yea, royal; his fare delicious, his attendance noble. How much more will our gracious God lift up our heads, unto true honour before men and angels, if we can be sincerely humbled in his sight ! If we miscal ourselves, in the meanness of our conceits, to him, he gives us a new name, and sets us at the table of his glory. It is contrary with God and men: if they reckon of us as we set ourselves, he values us according to our abasements.
Like a prince truly munificent and faithful, David promises and performs at once. Ziba, Saul's servant, hath the charge given him, of the execution of that royal word ; He shall be the bailiff of this great husbandry of his master Mephibosheth. The land of Saul, however forfeited, shall know no other master than Saul's grand-child.
As yet, Saul's servant had sped better than his son. I read of twenty servants of Ziba, none of Mephibosheth. Earthly pos- sessions do not always admit of equal divisions. The wheel is now turned up ; Mepliibosheth is a prince, Ziba is his officer.
I cannot but pity the condition of this good son of Jonathan. Into ill hands did honest Mephibosheth fall; first, of a careless nurse; then, of a treacherous servant : she maimed his body ; he would have overthrown his estate. After some years of eye-ser- vice to Mephibosheth, wicked Ziba intends to give him a worse fall than his nurse. Never any court was free from detractors, from'delators ; who, if they see a man to be a cripple, that he can- not go to speak for himself, will be telling tales of him in the ears of the great : such an one was this perfidious Ziba ; who, taking the opportunity of David's flight from his son Absalom, follows
MEPHIBOSHETH AND ZIBA.
3C9
liim with a fair present and a false tale, accusing his impotent mas- ter of a foul and traitorous ingratitude ; labouring to tread upon his lame lord, to raise himself to honour.
True-hearted Mephibosheth had as good a will as the best. If he could have commanded legs, he had not been left behind David; now, that he cannot go with him, he will not be well without him, and therefore puts himself to a wilful and sullen penance, for the absence and danger of his king : he will not so much as put on clean clothes for the time, as he that could not have any joy in himself, for the want of his lord David.
Unconscionable miscreants care not how they collogue, whom they slander, for a private advantage. Lewd Ziba comes with a gift in his hand, and a smooth tale in his mouth; " O sir, you thought you had a Jonathan at home, but you will find a Saul. It were pity, but he should be set at your table, that would sit in your throne. You thought Saul's land would have contented Mephi- bosheth, but he would have all yours. Though he be lame, yet he would be climbing. Would you have thought that this cripple could be plotting for your kingdom, now that you are gone aside? Ishbosheth will never die, while Mephibosheth lives. How did he now forget his impotence, and raised up his spirits in hope of a day ; and durst say, that now the time was come, wherein the crown should revert to Saul's tme heir." O viper ! if a serpent bite in secret when he is not charmed, no better is a slanderer. Honest Mephibosheth in good manners made a dead dog of himself, when David offered him the favour of his board ; but Ziba would make him a very dog indeed, an illnatured cur, that, when David did thus kind!}- feed him at his own table, would uot only bite his fin- gers, butfiy at his throat.
But what shall we say to this ? Neither earthly sovereignty, nor holiness, can exempt men from human infirmity. Wise and good David hath now but one ear ; and that misled with credulity. His charity in believing Ziba makes him uncharitable in distrusting, in censuring Mephibosheth. The detractor hath not only sudden credit given him, but Saul's land. Jonathan's son hath lost, un- heard, that inheritance which was given him, unsought. Hearsay is no safe ground of any judgment. Ziba slanders ; David be- lieves ; Mephibosheth surfers.
Lies shall not always prosper. God will not abide the truth to be ever oppressed. At last, Jonathan's lame son shall be found, as sound in heart as lame in his body. He, whose soul was like his father Jonathan's soul, whose body was like to his grandfather Saul's soul, meets David, as it is high time, upon his return ; be- stirs his tongue to discharge himself of so foul a slander. The more horrible the crime had been, the more villainous was the un- just suggestion of it, and the more necessary was a just apology; sweetly therefore, and yet passionately, doth he labour to greaten David's favours to him ; his own obligations and vileness ; shewing himself more affected with his wrong, than with liisloss ; w«lcom- vol. i. s s
310 CONTEMPLATIONS.
ing David home with a thankful neglect of himself, as not caring that Ziba liad his substance, now tbat he bad his king. David i» satisfied, Mephibosheth restored to favour and lands : here are two kind hearts well met. David is full of satisfaction from Mephi- bosheth; Mephibosheth runs over, with joy in David: David, like a gracious king, gives Mephibosheth, as before, Saul's lands to halves with Ziba ; Mephibosheth, like a king, gives all to Ziba for joy that God had given him David.
All had been well, if Ziba had fared worse. Pardon me, O holy and glorious soul of a prophet, of a king, after God's own heart ; I must needs blame thee for mercy : a fault that the best and mo>t generous natures are most subject to. It is pity that so good a thing should do hurt ; vet we find that the best, misused, is most dangerous. Who should be the pattern of kings, but the king of God r Mercy is the goodliest flower in his crown, much more in theirs, but With a difference : God's mercy is infinite, theirs li- mited : he says, I will have mercy on -whvUi I mill; they must say, " I wiil have mercy on whom I should." And yet he, forall his infinite mercy, hath vessels of wrath ; so must they : of whom his justice hath said, Thine eye shall not spare them. A good man is pitiful to his beast, shall he therefore make much of toads and snakes ? Oh that Ziba should go away with any possession, save of shame and sorrow ; that he should be coupled with a Me- phibosheth in a partnership of estates ! Oh that David had chang- ed the word a little !
A division was due here, indeed ; but of Ziba's ears from his head, or his head from his shoulders, for going about so malicious- ly to divide David from the son of Jonathan. An eye for an eye, was God's rule. If that had been true, which Ziba suggested against Mephibosheth, he had been worthy to lose his head with his lands : being false, it had been but reason, Ziba should have changed heads with Mephibosheth. Had not holy David himself been so stung with the venomous tongues, that he cries out in the bitterness of his soul, What regard shall be given thee, O thou false tongue t Even sharp arrows, with hot burning coals ? He that was so sensible of himself in Doeg's wrong, doth he feel so little of Mephibosheth in Ziba's ? Are these the arrows of David's cjuiver ? Are these his hot burning coals, Thou and Ziba divide t He that had said, Their tongue is a shai p sword, now, that the sword of just revenge is in his hand, is this the blow he gives, Di- ,vidc the possession? I know npt whether excess or want of mercy may prove most dangerous in the great ; the one discourages good intentions with fear ; the other mav encourage wicked practices through presumption : those that are in eminent place must learn the mid-way betwixt both ; so pardoning faults, that they may not provoke them; so punishing them, that they mav not dishearten virtuous and well-meant actions : thev must learn to sing that ab- s*>lut.: ditty, whereof David had here forgotten one part, of Mercy . i (Judgment. 2 Samuel is.
371
HANUN, AND DAVID'S AMBASSADORS.
It is not the meaning of religion, to make men uncivil. If the king of Amnion were heathenish, yet his kindness may be acknow- ledged, may be returned, by the king of Israel. I say not, but that perhaps David might maintain too strait a league witli that forbidden nation; a little friendship is enough to an idolater; but even the savage cannibals may receive an answer of outward cour- tesy. If a very dog fawn upon us, we stroke him on the head, and clap him on the side ; much less is the common band of humanity untied by grace. Disparity in spiritual professions is no warrant for ingratitude. He, therefore, whose goodnature proclaimed, to shew mercy to any branch of Saul's house, for Jonathan's sake, will now also shew kindness to Hanun, for the sake of Nahash his father.
It was the same Nahash, that offered the cruel condition to the men of Jabesh Gilead, of thrusting out their right eyes for the admission into his covenant. He, that was thus bloody in his design against Israel, yet was kind to David ; perhaps for no cause, so much as Saul's opposition : and yet even this favour is held worthy both of memory and retribution. Where we have the acts of courtesy, it is not necessary we should enter into a strict exami- nation of the grounds of it : while the benefit is ours, let the in- tention be their own. Whatever the hearts of men are, we must look at their hands; and repay, not what tiiey meant, but what they did.
Nahash is dead. David sends ambassadors to condole his loss, and to comfort his son Hanun. No Ammonite but is sadly affect- ed with the death of a father, though it gain him a kingdom. Even Esau could say, The days of mourning for my father will come. No earthly advantage can fill up the gap of nature. Those chil- dren are worse than Ammonites, that can think either gain, or li- berty, worthy to countervail a parent's loss.
Carnal men are wont to measure another's foot by their own last : their own falsehood makes them unjustly suspicious of others. The princes of Amnion, because they are guilty to their own hollow- ness and doubleness of heart, are ready so to judge of David and his messengers ; Thinkest thou, that David doth honour thy father, that he hath sent comforters unto thee ? Hath not David rather sent his own servants to thee, to search the city, and to spy it out, to overthrow it t It is hard for a wicked heart to think well of any other ; because it can think none better than itself, and knows it- sell evil. The freer a man is from vice himself, the more chari- table he uses to be unto others.
Whatsoever David was particularly in his own person, it was. ground enough of prejudice, that he was an Israelite. It was an hereditary and deep settled hatred, that the Ammonites had con- ceived against their brethren of Israel : neither can they forget that shameful and fearful foil, which they received from the res.
372
CONTEMPLATIONS.
cuers of Jabesh Gilead ; and now still do they stomach at the name of Israel. Malice, once conceived in worldly hearts, is not easily extinguished ; but, upon all occasions, is ready to break forth into a fiame of revengeful actions.
Nothing can be more dangerous, than for young princes to meet with ill counsel, in the entrance of their government ; for both then are they most prone to take it, and most difficultly recovered from it. If we be set out of our way in the beginning of our journey, we wander all the day. How happy is that state, where, both the counsellors are faithful to give only good advice, and the king wise to discern good advice from evil.
The young king of Amnion is easily drawn, to believe his peers, and to mistrust the messengers; and, having now in his conceit turned them into spies, entertains them with a scornful disgrace : he shaves oft' one half of their beards, and cuts off one half of their garments; exposing them to the derision of all the beholders. The Israelites were forbidden either a shaven beard, or a short garment : in despite, perhaps, of their law, these ambassadors are sent away with both ; certainly in a despite of their master, and a scorn of their persons.
King David is not a little sensible of the abuse of his messen- gers, and of himself in them ; first, therefore he desires to hide their shame ; then, to revenge it.
Man hath but a double ornament of body, the one of nature, the other of art : the natural ornament is the hair, the artificial is apparel ; David's messengers are deformed in both ; the one is easily supplied by a new suit, the other can only be supplied out of the wardrobe of time, Tarry at Jericho, till your beards be groua. Dow easily had this deformity been removed, if, as Hanun iiad shaven one side of their faces, so they had shaven the other. What bad this been, but to resemble their younger age, or that other sex,, in neither of which do we use to place any imagination of unbeseeming ? Neither did there want some of their neighbour nations, whose faces age itself had not wont to cover with this shade of hair. But so respective is good David and his wise se- nators of their country-forms, that they shall by appointment rather tarry abroad, till time have wrought their conformity, than vary from the received fashions of their own 'people. Alas, into what a licentious variety of strange disguises are we fallen 1 The glory of attire is sought in novelty, in mis-shapenness, in mon- strousness. There is much latitude, much liberty, in the use of these indifferent things ; but because we are free, we may not run wild : and never think we have scope enough, unless we out-run modesty.
It is lawful for public persons, to feel their own indignities, and to endeavour their revenge. Now David sends all the host of the mighty men, to punish Amnion, for so foul an abuse. Those, that received the messengers of his love with scorn and insolency, shall now be severely saluted with the messengers of his wrath. It is iw&t both with God and men, that they, who know not how to take
HANUN, AND DAVID'S AMBASSADORS. 3^3
favours aright, should smart with judgments. Kindness repulsed breaks forth into indignation ; how much more, when it is repaid with an injurious affront !
David cannot but feel his own cheeks shaven, and his own coat cut, in his ambassadors ; they did but carry his person to Hanun ; neither can he therefore but appropriate to himself, the kindness or injury offered unto them. He, that did so take to heart the cutting off but the lap of king Saul's garment, when it was laid aside from him, how must he needs be affected with this disdainful halving of his hair and robes, in the person of his deputies !
The name of ambassadors hath been ever sacred ; and by the universal law of nations, hath carried in it sufficient protection from all public wrongs ; neither bath it been ever violated, without a revenge. O God, what shall we say to those notorious contempts, which are daily cast upon thy spiritual messengers ? Is it possible thou shouldest not feel them, thou shouldest not avenge them ? We are made a gazing stock to the world, to angels, and to men ; we are despised and trodden down in the dust ; who hath believed ow report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed 9
How obstinate are wicked men, in their perverse resolutions ! These foolish Ammonites would rather hire Syrians to maintain a war against Israel in so foul a quarrel, besides the hazard of their own lives, than confess the error of their jealous misconstruction.
It is one of the mad principles of wickedness, that it is a weakness to relent, and ratiier to die than yield : even ill causes, once under- taken, must be upheld although with blood ; whereas the gracious heart, finding his own mistaking, doth not only remit ot an un- grounded displeasure, but studies to be revenged of itself, and to give satisfaction to the offended.
The mercenary Syrians are drawn to venture their lives for a fee. Twenty thousand of them are hired into the field against Israel. Fond Pagans, that know not the value of a man ! Their blood cost them nothing, and they care not to sell it good cheap. How can we think those men have souls, that esteem a little white earth above themselves ; that never inquire into the justice of the quarrel, but the rate of the pay ; that can rifle for drams of silver, in the bowels of their own flesh, and either kill or die for a day's Wages ?
Jpab, the wise general of Israel, soon finds where the strength of the battle lay ; and so marshals his troops, that the choice of his men should encounter the vanguard of the Syrians. His brother Abishai leads the rest against the children of Ammon ; with this co- venant of mutual assistance, If the Syrians be too strong for me, then thou shalt help me; but if the children of Ammon be too strong for thee, then will I come and help thee. It is a happy thing, when the captains of God's people join together as brethren, and lend their hand to the aid of each other, against the common adversary. Concord in defence or assault is the way to victory ; as, contrarily, the division of the leaders is the overthrow of the army.
37i
CONTEMPLATIONS.
Set aside some particular actions, Joab was a worthv captain, both for wisdom and valour. Who could either exhort or resolve better than he ; Be of good courage, and lei us play the men, for our people, and for the cities of our God ; and the Lord do that which scemcth him good f It is not either private glory or profit, that whets his fortitude, but the respect to the cause of God and his people. That soldier can never answer it to God, that strikes not more as a justicer, than as an enemy. Neither doth he content himself with his own courage, but he animates others. The tongue of a commander fights more than his hand. It is enough for pri- vate men, to exercise what life and limbs they have ; a good leader must, out of his own abundance, put life and spirits into all others. If a lion lead sheep into the field, there is hope of victory. Lastly, when he hath done his best, he resolves to depend upon God for the issue : not trusting to his sword, or his bow, but to the providence of the Almighty for success; as a man religiously awful, and aw- fully confident, while there should be no want in their own endea- vours. He knew well, that the race was not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ; therefore he looks up above the hills, whence cometh his salvation. All valour is cowardice to that which is built upon religion.
I marvel not to see Joab victorious, while he is thus godly. The Syrians flee before him, like flocks of sheep ; the Ammonites follow them ; the two sons of Zeruiah have nothing to do, but to pursue and execute. The throats of the Ammonites are cut, for cutting the beards and coats of the Israelitish messengers.
Neither doth this revenge end in the field ; Rabba, the ro)'aI city of Ammon, is strongly beleaguered by Joab. The city of wa- ters, after well near a vears siege, yieideth : the rest can no longer hold.
Now Joab, as one that desireth more to approve himself a loyal and a careful subject than a happy general, sends to his master David, that he should come personally, and encamp against the city, and take it , Lest, saith he, I take it, and it be called after my name. O noble and imitable fidelity of a dutiful servant, that prefers his lord to himself, and is so far from stealing honour from his master's deserts, that he willingly remits of his own to add unto his. The war was not his ; he was only employed by his sovereign.- The same person, that was wronged in the ambassadors, reveng;eth by his soldiers. The praise of ihc act shall, like fountain-water, return to the sea, whence it originally came. To seek a man's own glory is not glory. Alas, how many are there, who, being sent to sue for God, woo for themselves ! O God, it is a fearful thing to rob thee of that which is dearest to thee, glory ; which, as thou wilt not give to anv creature, so much less wilt thou endure that any creature should filch it from thee, and give it to himself. Have thou the honour of all our actions, who givest a being to our ac- tions and us, and in both hast most justly regarded thine own praise.
2 Sam. .r. 1 Chron. xix.
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DAVID WITH BATHSHEBA AND URIAH. With what unwillingness, with what fear, do I still look upon the miscarriage of the man after God's own heart ! O holy prophet, who can promise himself always to stand, when he sees thee fallen, and maimed with the fall ? Who can assure himself of an immu- nity from the foulest sins, when he sees thee offending so heinously, so bloodily ? Let prophane eyes behold thee contentedly, as a pat- tern, as an excuse of sinning; I shall never look upon thee but through tears, as a woful spectacle of human infirmity.
While Joab and all Israel were busy in the war against Ammon , in the siege of Kabbah, Satan finds time to lay siege to the secure heart of David.
^v^loever found David thus tempted, thus foiled, in the days of his busy wars ? Now only do I see the king of Israel, rising from his bed in the evening. The time was, when he rose up in the morning to his early devotion ; when he brake his nightly rest, with public cares, with the business of the state. All that while he was innocent, he was holy ; but now that he wallows in the bed of idleness, he is fit to invite temptation. The industrious man hath no leisure to sin : the idle hath neither leisure nor power to avoid sin. Exercise is not more wholesome for the body, than for the soul; the remission whereof breeds matter of disease in both. The water, that hath been heated, soonest freezeth ; the most active spirit soonest tireth with slacking. The earth stands still, and is all dregs ; the heavens ever move, and are pure. We have no reason to complain of the assiduity of work ; the toil of action is answered by the benefit; if we did less, we should suffer more. Satan, like an idle companion, if he find us busy, flies back, and sees it no time to entertain vain purposes with us. We cannot please him better, than by casting away our work, to hold chat with hini. We cannot yield so far, and be guiltless.
Even David's eyes have no sooner the sleep rubbed out of them, than they rove to wanton prospects. He walks upon his roof, and sees Bathsheba washing herself; inquires after her, sends for her, solicits her to uncleanness. The same spirit, that shut up his eyes in an unseasonable sleep, opens them upon an enticing object : while sin hath such a solicitor, it cannot want either means or opportu- nity.
I cannot think Bathsheba could be so immodest, as to wash her- sell openly ; especially from her natural uncleanness. Lust is quick - sighted : David hath espied her, where she could espy no beholder. His eyes recoil upon his heart, and have smitten him with sinful desire.
There can be no safety to that soul, where the senses are let loose. He can never keep his covenant with God, that makes not a covenant with his eyes. It is an idle presumption to think the outward man may be free, while the inward is safe. He is more than a man, whose heart is not led by his eyes ; he is no regenerate man, whose eyes are not restrained by his heart.
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
O Bathsheba, how wert thou washed from thine unclearmess, when thou yieldedst to go into an adulterous bed ! Never wert thou so foul, as now when thon wert new washed. The worst of nature is cleanliness to the best of sin : thou hadst been clean, if thou hadst not washed ; yet for thee, I know how to plead infirmity of sex, and the importunity of a king : but what shall I say for thee, O thou royal prophet, and prophetical king of Israel ? Where shall I find ought to extenuate that crime, for which God himself hath noted thee ? Did not thy holy profession teach thee, to abhor such a sin more than death ? Was not thy justice wont to punish this s n, with no less than death ? Did not thy very calling call thee, to a protection and preservation of justice, of chastity, in thy sub- jects ? Didst thou want store of wives of thine own ? Wert thou restrained from taking more ? Was there no beauty in Israel, but in a subject's marriage-bed ? Wert thou overcome by the vehement solicitations of an adultress ? Wert thou not the tempter, the pro- secutor, of this uncleanness ? I should accuse thee deeply, if thou hadst not accused thyself. Nothing wanted to greaten thy sin, or our wonder and fear. O God, whither do we go, if thou stay us not ? Whoever, amongst the millions of thy servants, could find himself furnished with stronger preservatives against sin ? Against whom could such a sin find less pretence of prevailing ? Oh keep thou us, that presumptuous sins prevail not over us; so only shall we be free from great offences.
The suits of kings are imperative. Ambition did now prove a bawd to lust. Bathsheba yieldeth to offend God, to dishonour her husband, to clog and wound her own soul, to abuse her body. Dishonesty grows bold, when it is countenanced with greatness. Eminent persons had need be careful of their demands : they sin by authority, that are solicited by the mighty.
Had Bathsheba been mindful of her matrimonial fidelity, per- haps David had been soon checked in his inordinate desire : her facility furthers the sin. Tlx first motioner of evil is most faulty; but, as in quarrels, so in offences, the second blow (which is the consent) makes the fray. Good Joseph was moved to folly by his great and beautiful mistress : this fire fell upon wet tinder, and therefore soon went out.
Sin is not acted alone ; if but one party be wise, both escape. Itis no excuse, to say, "I was'tempted," though by thegreat, though by the holy and learned. Almost all sinners are misled, by that transformed angel of light. The action is that We must regard, not the person. Let the mover be never so glorious, if he stir us to evil, he must be entertained with defiance.
The God, that knows how to raise good out of evil, blesses an adulterous copulation with that increase, which he denies to the chaste embracements of honest wedlock. Bathsheba hath con- ceived by David ; and now at once conceives a sorrow and care, how to smother the shame of her conception : he that did the fact must hide it.
O David, where is thy repentance ? Where is thy tenderness
DAVID WITH BA.THSHEBA AND URIAH. 377
and compunction of heart ? Where are those holy meditations, which had wont to take up thy soul ? Alas ! instead of clearing thy sin, thou lahourestto cloke it ; and spendest those thoughts in the concealing of thy wickedness, which thou shouldest ratherhave bestowed in preventing it. The best of God's children may not only be drenched in the waves of sin, but lie in them for the time, and perhaps sink twice to the bottom. What hypocrite could have done worse, than study how to cover the face of his sin from the eyes of men, while he regarded not the sting of sin in his soul P
As there are some acts, wherein the hypocrite is a saint, so there are some, wherein the greatest saint upon earth may be a hypocrite. Saul did thus go about to colour his sin, and is cursed. The ves- sels of mercy and wrath are not ever distinguishable by their ac- tions. He makes the difference, that will have mercy on whom he will, and whom he will, he hardeneth.
It is rare and hard to commit a single sin. David hath abused the wife of Uriah ; now he would abuse his person, in causing him to father a false seed. That worthy Hittite is sent for from the wars ; and now, after some cunning and fav-fetched questions, isl dismissed to his house, not without a present of favour. David' could not but imagine, that the beauty of his Bathsheba, must needs be attractive enough to a husband, whom long absence in wars had withheld all that while from so pleasing a bed ; neither could he think, that, since that face and those breasts had power to allure himself to an unlawful lust, it could be possible, that Uriah should not be invited by them, to an allowed and warrantable frui- tion.
That David's heart might now the rather strike him, in com- paring the chaste resolutions of his servant with his own light in- continence, good Uriah sleeps at the door of the king's palace ; making choice of a stony pillow, under the canopy of heaven, ra- ther than the delicate bed of her, whom he thought as honest as he knew fair. The ark, saith he, and Israel, and Judah, dwell in tents ; and my lord Joab, and the servants of my lord, abide in the open fields ; shall I then go into my house to eat, and drink, and lie with my wife ? By thy life, and by the life of thy soul, I will not do this thing.
Who can but be astonished at this change ; to see a soldier au- stere, and a prophet wanton ! And how doth that soldier's auste- rity shame the prophet's wantonness ! O zealous and mortified soul, Avorthy of a more faithful wife, of a more just master, how didst thou overlook all base sensuality, and hatedst to be happy alone ! War and lust had wont to be reputed friends. Thy breast: is not more full of courage than chastity ; and is so far from wan- dering after forbidden pleasures, that it refuseth lawful.
There is a time to laugh, and a time to mourn ; a time to em- brace, and a time to be far from embracing. Even the best actions are not always seasonable, much less the indifferent. He, that ever takes liberty to do what he may, shall offend no less, than he that sometimes takes liberty to do what he may not.
373 CONTEMPLATIONS.
If any thing, the ark of God is fittest to lead our tunes. Accord- ingly as that is either distressed or prospereth, should we frame our mirth or mourning. To dwell in ceiled houses, while the temple lies waste, is the ground of God's just quarrel. How shall we sing a song of the Lord in a strange land ? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right-hand forget her cunning ; if I do not re- member thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ; yea, if J prefer not Jerusalem to my chief joy.
As every man is a limb of the community, so must he be affected with the estate of the universal body, whether healthful or languish- ing. It did not more aggravate David's sin, that, while the ark and Israel was in hazard and distress, he could find time to loose the reins to wanton desires and actions, than it magnifies the religious zeal of Uriah, that he abandons comfort, till he see the ark and Israel victorious. Common dangers or calamities must, like the rapt motion, carry our hearts contrary to the ways of our private occasions.
He, that cannot be moved with words, shall be tried with wine. Uriah had equally protested, against feastiug at home, and society with his wife ; to the one, the authority of a king forceth him abroad, in hope that the excess thereof shall force him to the other. It is like, that holy captain intended only to yield so much obe- dience, as might consist with his course of austerity. But Wine is a mocker. When it goes plausibly in, no man can imagine how it will rage and tyrannise. He, that receives that traitor within his gates, shall too late complain of surprisal. Like unto that ill spirit, it insinuates sweetly, but in the end it bites like a serpent, and hurts like a cockatrice. Even good Uriah is made drunk. The holiest soul may be overtaken. It is hard gainsaying, where a king begins a health to a subject.
Where, oh where, will this wickedness end ? David will now procure the sin of another, to hide his own. Uriah's drunkenness is more David's offence, than his. It is weakly yielded to of the one, which was wilfully intended of the other. The one was as the sinner, the other as the tempter.
Had not David known that wine was an inducement to lust, he had spared those superfluous cups. Experience had taught him, that the eye debauched with wine will look upon strange women. The drunkard may be any thing, save good. Yet in this the aim failed. Grace is stronger than wine: while that withholds, in vain shall the fury of the grape attempt to carry Uriah to his own bed. Sober David is now worse than drunken Uriah. Had not the king of Israel been more intoxicate with sin, than Uriah with drink, he had not in a sober intemperance climbed up into that bed, which the drunken temperance of Uriah refused.
If David had been but himself, how had he loved, how had he honoured, this honest and religious zeaf, in his so faithful servant; whom now he cruelly seeks to reward with death ! That fact which wine cannot hide, the sword shall. Uriah shall bear his own mitti- mus unto Joab ; Put ye Uriah in the fore-front of the strengh of
DAVID WITH BATHSHEBA AND URIAH. 579
the battle, and recoil back from him, that he may be smitten and die. What is become of thee, O thou good spirit, that hadst wont to guide thy chosen servant in his former ways ? Is not this the man, whom we lately saw so heart-smitten, for but cutting off the lap of the garment of a wicked master, that is now thus lavish of the blood of a gracious and well-deserving servant ? Could it be. likely, that so worthy a captain could fall alone? Could David have expiated this sin with his own blood, it had been but well spent ; but to cover his sin with the innocent blood of others, was a crime above astonishment.
Oh the deep dece.tfulness of sin ! If the devil should have come to David in the most lovely form of Bathsheba herself, and at the first should have directly and in plain terms solicited him to mur- der his best servant, I doubt not but he would have spit scorn in that face, on which he should otherwise have doted ; now, by many cunning windings, Satan rises up to that temptation, and prevails : that shall be done for a colour of guiltiness, whereof the soul would have hated to be immediately guilty. Kven those, that find a just horror, in leaping down from some high tower, yet may be per- suaded to descend by stairs to the bottom. He knows not where he shall stay, that hath willingly slipped into a known wickedness.
How many doth an eminent offender draw with him into evil ! It could not be, but that divers of the attendants, both of David and Bathsheba, must be conscious to that adultery. Great men's sins are seldom secret. And now Joab must be fetched in, as ac- cessary to the murder. How must this example needs harden Joab, against the conscience of Abner's blood ; while he cannot but think, David cannot avenge that in me, which he acteth himself!
Honour is pretended to poor Uriah ; death is meant. This man was one of the worthies of David. Their courage sought glory, in the difhcultest exploits. That reputation haa never been pur- chased, without attempts of equal danger.
Had not the leader and followers of Uriah been more treacherous, than his enemies were strong, he had come off with victory ; now, he was not the first or last that perished by his friends. David hath forgotten, that himself was in like sort betrayed in his master's in- tention, upon the dowry of the Philistines' foreskins.
I lear to ask, Who ever noted so foul a plot in David's rejected predecessor ? Uriah must be the messenger of his own death ; Joab must be a traitor to his friend ; the host of God must shame- fully turn their backs upon the Ammonites ; all that Israelitish blood must be shed ; that murder must be seconded with dissimulation ; and all this to hide one adidtery ! O God, thou hadst never sulfered so dear a favourite of thine to fall so fearfully, if thou hadst not meant to make him a universal example to mankind, of not pre- suming, of not despairing. How can we presume of not sinning, or despair for sinning, when we find so great a saint thus fallen, thus risen ! 2 Sam. xi*
S50
CONTEMPLATIONS.
NATHAN AND DAVID. Yet Bathsheba mourned for the death of that husband, whom she had been drawn to dishonour. How could she bestow tears enough upon that funeral, whereof her sin was the cause ! If she had but a suspicion of the plot of his death, the fountains of her eyes could not yield water enough to wash off her husband's blood. Her sin Was more worthy of sorrow, than her loss. If this grief had been right placed, the hope of hiding her shame and the ambition to be a queen had not so soon mitigated it ; neither had she, upon any terms, been drawn into the bed of her husband's murderer. Every gleam of earthly comfort can dry up the tears of worldly sorrow. Bathsheba hath soon lost her grief at the court. The remembrance tif a husband is buried in the jollity and state of a princess.
David securely enjoys his ill-purchased love ; and is content to exchange the conscience of his sin, for the sense of his pleasure. But the just and holy God will not put it up so. He, that hates sin so much the more as the offender is more dear to him, will let David feel the bruise of his fall. If God's best children have been sometimes suffered to sleep in a sin, at last he hath awakened them in a fright.
David was a prophet of God ; and yet he hath not only stepped into those foul sins, but sojourns with them. If any profession or state of life could have privileged from sin, the angels had not sinned in heaven, nor man in paradise.
Nathan the prophet is sent to the prophet David, for reproof, for conviction. Had it been any other man's case, none could have been more quick-sighted than the princely prophet ; in his own, he is so blind, that God is fain to lend him others' eyes. Even the physician himself, when he is sick, sends for the counsel of those, whom his health did mutually aid with advice. Let no man think himself too good to learn. Teachers themselves may be taught that, in their own particular, which, in a generality, they have often taught others. It is not only ignorance that is to be removed, but misaffection.
Who can prescribe a just period to the best man's repentance? About ten months are passed, since David's sin ; in all which time, I find no news of any serious compunction. It could not be, but some glances of remorse must needs have passed through his soul, long ere this ; but a due and solemn contrition was not heard of, till Nathan's message ; and perhaps had been further adjourned, if that monitor had been longer deferred. Alas ! what long and dead sleeps may the holiest soul take in fearful sins ! Were it not for thy mercy, O God, the best of us should end our spiritual lethargy in sleep of death.
It might have pleased God as easily to have sent Nathan to check David in his first purpose of sinning ; so had his eyes been restrained, Bathsheba honest, Uriah alive with honour : now, the wisdom of the Almighty knew how to win more glory, by the permission of •so foul an evil, than by the prevention ; yea, he knew how, by
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the permission of one sin, to prevent millions. How many thou- sands had sinned, in a vain presumption on their own strength, if David had not thus offended ! How many thousands had de- spaired, in the conscience of their own weaknesses, if these hor- rible sins had not received forgiveness ! It is happy for all times, that we have so holy a sinner, so sinful a penitent.
It matters not how bitter the pill is, but how well wrapped. So cunningly hath Nathan conveyed this dose, that it begins to work ere it be tasted. There is no one thing, wherein is move use of wisdom, than the due contriving of reprehension ; which, in a dis- creet delivery helps the disease, in an unwise destroys nature.
Had not Nathan been used to the possession of David's ear, this complaint had been suspected. It well beseems a king, to take in- formation by a prophet.
While wise Nathan was querulously discoursing of the cruel rich man, that had forcibly taken away the only lamb of his poor neigh- bour, how willingly" doth David listen to the story ; and how sharply, even above law, doth he censure the fact ; As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die ! Full little did he think, that he had pronounced sentence against himself. It had not been so heavy, if he had known on whom it should have lit. We have open ears and quick tongues to the vices of others. How severe justicers we can be, to our very own crimes in others per- sons ! How flattering parasites, to another's crime in ourselves !
The life of doctrine is in application. Nathan might have been long enough in his narration, in his invective, ere David would have been touched with his own guiltiness; but now that the pro- phet brings the word home to his bosom, he cannot but be affected. We may take pleasure, to hear -men speak in the clouds ; we never take profit, till we find a propriety in the exhortation or reproof.
There was not more cunning in the parable, than courage in the application, Thou art the man. If David be a king, he may not look, not to hear of his faults. God's messages may be no other than impartial. It is a treacherous flattery, in divine errands to regard greatness. If prophets must be mannerly in the form, yet in the matter of reproof resolute. The words are not their own : they are but the heralds of the King of Heaven ; Thus saith the Lord God of Lsrael.
How thunder-stricken do we think David did now stand ! How did the change of his colour bewray the confusion in his soul ; while his conscience said the same within, which the prophet sounded in his ear ! And now, lest ought should be wanting to his humiliation, all God's former favours shall be laid before his eyes, by way of exprobration. He is worthy to be upbraided with mer- cies, that hath abused mercies unto wantonness. While we do well, God gives, and says nothing ; when we do ill, he lays his benefits in our dish, and casts thein in our teeth, that our shame may be so much the more, by how much our obligations have bt;en greater. The blessings of God, in our unworthy carriage, prove out the aggravations of sin, and additions to judgment.
382 CONTEMPLATIONS.
I see all God's children falling into sin ; some of them lying in sin ; none of them maintaining their sin. David cannot have the heart or the face, to stand out against the message of God ; but now, as a man confounded, and condemned in himself, he cries out, in the bitterness of a wounded soul, I have sinned against the Lord.
It was a short word, but passionate ; and such as came from the bottom of a contrite heart. The greatest griefs are not most ver- bal. Saul confessed his sin more largely, less effectually. God cares not for phrases, but for affections.
The first piece of our amends to God for sinning, is the acknow- ledgment of sin. lie can do little, that in a just offence cannot accuse himself. If we cannot be so good as we would, it is reason we should do God so much right, as to say, how evil we are. And why w^s not this done sooner ? It is strange to see how easily sin gets into the heart ; how hardly it gets out of the mouth. Is it because sin, like unto Satan, where it hath got possession is desirous to hold it ; and knows that it is fully ejected by a free confession ? or, because in a guiltiness of deformity, it hides itself in the breast where it is once entertained, and hates the light ? or, because the tongue is so feed with self-love, that it is loth to be drawn unto any verdict against the heart or hands ? or, is it out of an idle mis- prision of shame, which, while it should be placed in offending, is misplaced in disclosing of our offence ? However, sure I am, that God hath need even of racks to draw out confessions; and scarce in death itself, are we wrought to a discovery of our errors.
There is no one thing, wherein our folly shews itself more, than in these hurtful concealments. Contrary to the proceedings of human justice, it is with God, Confess, and live. No sooner can David say, / have sinned, than Nathan infers, The Lord also hath put uivay thy sin. He, that hides his sins, shall not prosper ; but he, that confesseth and forsaketh them, shall find mercy. Who would not accuse himself, to be acquitted of God ? O God, who would not tell his wickedness to thee, that knowest it better than his own heart, that his heart may be eased of that wickedness, which being not told killeth ? Since we have sinned, why should we be niggardly of that action, wherein we may at once give,glory to thee, and relief to our souls ?
David had sworn, in a zeal of justice, that the rich oppressor, for but taking his poor neighbour's lamb, should die the death: God, by Nathan, is more favourable to David, than to take him at his word ; Thou shalt not die. Oh the marvellous power of re- pentance ! Besides adultery, David had shed the blood of innocent Uriah. The strict law was, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth ; he, that smiteth with the sword, shall perish with the sword. Yet, as if a penitent confession had dispensed with the rigour of justice, now God says, Thou shalt not die. David was the voice of the Law, awarding death unto sin ; Nathan was the voice of the Gospel, awarding life unto the repentance for sin. Whatsoever the sore be, never any soul applied this remedy, and died ; never any soul cs-r caped death, that applied it not.
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David himself shall not die for this fact ; "but his misbegotten child shall die for hi in. He, that said, The Lord hath put away thy sin, yet said also, The sword shall not depart from thine house. The same mouth, with one breath, pronounces the sentence both of absolution and death ; absolution to the person, death to the issue. Pardon may well stand with temporal affliction;. Where God hath forgiven, though he doth not punish, yet he may chas- tise, and that unto blood; neither doth he always forbear correc- tion, where he remits revenge. So long as he smites us not as an angry judge, we may endure to smart from him as a loving father.
Yet even this rod did David deprecate with tears. How fain would he shake off so easy a load ! The child is stricken : the fa- ther fasts, and prays, and weeps, and lies all night upon the earth, and abhors the noise of comfort. That child, which was the fruit and monument of his odious adultery, whom he could never have looked upon without recognition of his sin, in whose face he could not but have still read the records of his own shame, is thus mourned for, thus sued for. It is easy to observe that good man over-pas- sionately affected to his children. Who would not have thought, that David might have held himself well ap payed, that his soul escaped an eternal death, his body a violent, though God should punish his sin, in that child, in whom he sinned ? yet even against this cross he bends his prayers, as if nothing had been forgiven him. There is no child that would be scourged, if he might es- cape for crying. No affliction is for the time other than grievous ; neither is therefore yielded unto, without some kind of reluctance.
Far yet was it from the heart of David, to make any opposition to the will of God : he sued ; he struggled not. There is no im- patience in entreaties. He well knew, that the threats of temporal evils ran commonly with a secret condition, and therefore might perhaps be avoided by humble importunity. If any means under heaven can avert judgments, it is our prayers.
God could not choose but like well the boldness of David's faith ; who, after the apprehension of so heavy a displeasure, is so far from doubting of the forgiveness of his sin, that he dares become a suitor unto God for his sick child. Sin doth not make us more strange, than faith confident.
But it is not in the power of the strongest faith, to preserve us from all afflictions. After all David's prayers and tears, the child must die. The careful servants dare but whisper this sad news. They, who had found their master so averse from the motion of comfort in the sickness of the child, feared him incapable of com- fort in his death.
Suspicion is quick-witted. Every occasion makes us misdoubt that event, which we fear. This secrecy proclaims that, which they were so loth to utter. David perceives his child dead ; and now he rises up from the earth whereon he lay, and washes him- self, and changeth his apparel, and goes first into God's house to worship, and into his own to eat; now he refuses no Comfort, who before would take none. The issue of things doth more fully
•384 CONTEMPLATIONS.
shew the will of God, than the prediction. God never did any thing, but what he would. He hath sometimes foretold that for trial, which his secret will intended not. He would foretel it ; be would not effect it ; because he would therefore foretel it, that he might not effect it. His predictions of outward evils are not always absolute ; his actions are. David well sees by the event, what the decree of God was concerning his child ; which now he could not strive against, without a vain impatience. Till we know the deter- minations of the Almighty, it is free for us to strive in our prayers ; to strive with him, not against him: when once we know them, it is our duty to sit down in a silent contentation.
While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept ; for I said, Who can tell, whether the Lord will be gracious to vie, that the child may live ! but now he is dead, wherefore should I fast ? Can I bring him back again ?
The grief, that goes before an evil for remedy, can hardly be too much ; but that, which follows an evil past remedy, cannot be too little. Even in the saddest accident, death, we may yield some- thing to nature, nothing to impatience. Immoderation of sor- row, for losses past hope of recovery, is more sullen than useful ; our stomach may be bewrayed by it, not our wisdom. 2Sam.xii.
AMNON AND TAMAR.
It is not possible, that any word of God should fall to the ground, David is not more sure of forgiveness, than smart. Three main sins passed him in this business of Uriah ; adultery, murder, dissi- mulation : for all which he receives present payment ; for adultery, in the deflouring of his daughter Tamar ; for murder, in the kill- ing of his son Amnon ; for dissimulation, in the contriving of both. Yet all this was but the beginning of evils. Where the father of the family brings sin home to the house, it is not easily swept out. Unlawful lust propagates- itself by example. How justly i David scourged by the sin of his sons, whom his act taught t offend !
Maachah was the daughter of a heathenish king. By her had David that beautiful but unhappy issue, Absalom, and his no le- fair sister, Tamar. Perhaps, thus late doth David feel the punish- ment of that unfit choice. I should have marvelled, if so holy man had not found crosses in so unequal a match ; either in If person, or at least in his seed.
Beauty, if it be not well disciplined, proves not a friend, bu a traitor. Three of David's children are undone by it at once. What else was guilty of Amuon's incestuous love, Tamar's ravish ment, Absalom's pride ? It is a blessing to be fair ; yet such a bless jog, as, if the soul answer not to the face, may lead to a curse How commonly have we seen the foulest soul dwell fairest !
It was no fault of Tamar's, that she was beautiful : the candl offends not in burning ; the foolish fly offends in scorching itsel
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in the flame : yet it is no small misery to become a temptation unto another, and to be made but the occasion of others' ruin.
Amnon is love-sick of his sister Tamar, and languishes of that unnatural heat. Whither will not wanton lust carry the inordinate minds of pampered and ungoverned youths? None but his half- sister will please the eyes of the young prince of Israel. Ordinary pleasures will not content those, whom the conceit of greatness, youth, and ease, have let loose to their appetite.
Perhaps yet, this unkindly flame might in time have gone out alone, had not there been a Jonadab, to blow these coals with ill counsel. It were strange, if great princes should want some pa- rasitical followers, that are ready to feed their ill humours. Why art thou, the king's son, so lean from day to day ? As if it were unworthy the heir of a king, to suffer either law or conscience to stand in the way of his desires : whereas wise princes know well, that their places give them no privilege of sinning ; but call them in rather to so much more strictness, as their example may be more prejudicial.
Jonadab was the cousin-german of Amnon. Ill advice is so much more dangerous, as the interest of the giver is more. Had he been a true friend, he had bent all the forces of his dissuasion against the wicked motions of that sinful lust ; and had shewed the prince of Israel, how much those lewd desires provoked God and ble- mished himself ; and had lent his hand to strangle them in their first conception. There cannot be a more worthy improvement of friendship, than in a fervent opposition to the sins of them, whom we profess to love. No enemy can be so mortal to great princes, as those officious clients, whose flattery sooths them up in wickedness : these are traitors to the soul, and by a pleasing vio- lence kill the best part eternally.
How ready at hand is an evil suggestion ! Good counsel is like unto well-water, that must be drawn up with a pump or bucket ; ill counsel is like to conduit- water, which, if the cock be but turned, runs out alone. Jonadab hath soon projected, how Amnon shall accomplish his lawless purpose. The way must be to feign himself sick in body, whose mind was sick of lust ; and, under this pretence, to procure the presence of her, who had wounded, and only might cure him. The daily increasing languor, and leanness, and paleness of love-sick Amnon, might well give colour to a ker- chief and a pallet.
Now is it soon told David, that his eldest son is cast upon his sick bed. There needs no suit for his visitation. The careful fa- ther hastens to his bedside ; not without doubts and fears. He, that was lately so afflicted, with the sickness of a child that scarce lived to see the light, how sensible must we needs think he would be, of the indisposition of his first-born son, in the prime of his age and hopes !
It is not given to any prophet, to foresee all things. Happy had it been for David, if Amnon hud been truly sick, and sick unto death ; yet who could have persuaded this passionate father, to
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have been content with this succession of losses, this early loss of his successor ? How glad is he to hear, that his daughter Tamar'a skill might be likely to fit the diet of so dear a patient ! Conceit is wont to rule much, both in sickness and in the c ure.
Taniar is sent by her father to the house of Amiion. Her hand only must dress that dish, which may please the nice palate of her sick brother. Even the childi'en of kings, in those homelier times, did not scorn to put their fingers to some works of huswifery ; She took flour, and did knead it, and did make cakes in his sight, and did bake the cakes, and took a pan, and poured them out before him. Had she not been sometimes used to such domestic employ- ments, she had been now to seek ; neither had this been required of her, but upon the knowledge of her skill. She doth not plead the impairing of her beauty by the scorching of the fire ; nor thinks her hand too dainty for such mean services ; but settles to the work, as one that would rather regard the necessities of her brother, than her own state. Only pride and idleness have ba- nished honest and thrifty diligence out of the houses of the great.
This was not yet the dish that Ainnon longed for. It was the cook, and not the cates, which that wanton eye affected. Unlaw- ful acts seek for secrecy. The company is dismissed ; Tamar only stays. Good meaning suspects nothing. While she presents the meat she had prepared to her sick brother, herself is made a prey to his outrageous lust. The modest virgin entreats and persuades in vain. She lays before him the sin, the shame, the danger of the fact ; and, since none of these can prevail, fain would win time, by the suggestion of impossible hopes. Nothing but violence can stay a resolved sinner : what he cannot by entreaty, he will have by force. If the devil were not more strong in men, than nature, they would never seek pleasure in violence.
Amnon hath no sooner fulfilled his beastly desires, than he hates Tamar more than he loved her. Inordinate hist never ends but in discontentment. Loss of spirits and remorse of soul make the remembrance of that act tedious, whose expectation promised de- light. If we could see the back of sinful pleasures, ere we behold their face, our hearts could not but be forestalled with a just de- testation. Brutish Amnon, it was thyself, whom thou shouldst have hated for this villainy, not thine innocent sister. Both of you lay together ; only one committed incest. What was she, but a patient in that impotent fury of lust ? How unjustly do carnal men misplace their affections ! No man can say, whether that love or this hatred were more unreasonable. Fraud drew Tamar into the house of Amnon ; force entertained her within, and drove her out. Fain would she have hid her shame where it was wrought, and may not be allowed it. That roof, under which she came with honour, and in obedience and love, may not be lent her for the time as a shelter of her ignominy. Never any savage could be more barbarous. Shechem had ravished Dinah : his offence did not muke her odious: his affection so continued, that he is willing rather to draw blood of himself and his people, than forego her
AMNON AND TAMAR. 3S7
whom he had abused. Amnon, in one hour, is in the excess of love and hate ; and is sick of her, for whom he was sick. She, that lately kept the keys of his heart, is now locked out of his doors. Unruly passions run ever into extremities ; and are then best appayed, when they are furthest oil* from reason and modera- tion.
What could Amnon think would be the event of so foul a fact ; which, as he had not the grace to prevent, so he hath not the care to conceal ? If he looked not so high as heaven, what could he imagine would follow hereupon, but the displeasure of a father, the danger of law, the indignation of a brother, the shame and outcries of the world ? All which he might have hoped to avoid, by secrecy and plausible courses of satisfaction. It is the just judgment of God upon presumptuous offenders, that they lose their wit, together with their honesty ; and are either so blinded, that they cannot foresee the issue of their actions, or so besotted that they do not regard it.
Poor Tamar can but bewail that which she could not keep, her virginity ; not lost, but torn from her by a cruel violence. She rends her princely robe, and lays ashes on her head, and laments the shame of another's sin, and lives more desolate than a widow in the house of her brother Absalom.
In the mean time, what a corrosive must this news needs be to the heart of good David ; whose fatherly command had, out of love, cast his daughter into the jaws of this lion ! What an inso- lent affront must he needs construe this, to be offered by a son to a father ; that the father should be made the pander of his own daughter to his son ! He, that lay upon the ground weeping for but the sickness of an infant, how vexed do we think he was with the villainy of his heir, with the ravishment of his daughter ; both of them worse than many deaths ! What revenge can he think of for so heinous a crime, less than death ; and what less than death is it to him, to think of a revenge ? Rape was by the law of God, capital ; how much more, when it is seconded with incest ! Anger was not punishment enough for so high an offence : yet this is all that I hear of, from so indulgent a father ; saving that he makes up the rest with sorrow, punishing his son's outrage in himself. The better natured and more gracious a man is, the more subject he is to the danger of an over-remissness, and the excess of favour and. mercy. The mild injustice is no less perilous to the common- wealth, than the cruel.
If David (perhaps out of the conscience of his own late offence) will not punish this fact, his son Absalom shall ; not out of any care of justice, but in a desire of revenge. Two whole years, hath this sly courtier smothered his indignation, and feigned kindness; else his invitation of Amnon in special had been suspected.
Even gallant Absalom was a great sheep-master. The bravery and magnificence of a courtier must be built upon the grounds of frugality.
David himself is bidden to this bloody sheep-shearing. It was
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no otherwise meant, but that the father's eyes should be the wit- nesses of the tragical execution of one son by another. Only David's love kept him from that horrible spectacle. He is careful, not to be chargeable to that son, who cares not to overcharge his father's stomach with a feast of blood.
Amnon hath so quite forgot his sin, that he dares go to feast in that house, where Tamar was mourning ; and suspects not the kindness of him, whom he had deserved, of a brother to make an enemy. Nothing is more unsafe to be trusted, than the fair looks of a festered heart. Where true charity or just satisfaction have not wrought a sound reconciliation, malice doth but lurk for the opportunity of an advantage.
It was not for nothing, that Absalom deferred his revenge ; which is now so much more exquisite, as it is longer protracted. What could be more fearful, than when Amnon's heart was merry with wine, to be suddenly stricken with death ? As if this execu- tion had been no less intended to the soul, than to the body. How wickedly soever this was done by Absalom, yet how just was it with God, that he, who, in two years' impunity, would find no leisure of repentance, should now receive a punishment, without possibility of repentance !
O God, thou art righteous to reckon for those sins, which hu- man partiality or negligence hath omitted ; and, while thou pu- nishest sin with sin, to punish sin with death. If either David had called Amnon to account for this villainy, or Amnon had called him- self, the revenge had not been so desperate. Happy is the man, that, by an unfeigned repentance, acquits his soul from his known evils, and improves the days of his peace to the prevention of future vengeance ; which, if it be not done, the hand of God shall as surely overtake us in judgment, as the hand of Satan hath overtaken us in miscarriage unto sin. 2 Sam. xiii.
ABSALOM'S RETURN AND CONSPIRACY. One act of injustice draws on another. The injustice of David, in not punishing the rape of Amnon, procures the injustice of Absalom, in punishing Amnon with murder. That, which the fa- ther should have justly revenged, and did not, the son revenges unjustly.
The rape of a sister was no less worthy of death, than the mur- der of a brother ; yea, this latter sin was therefore the less, because that brother was worthy of death, though by another hand ; whereas that sister was guilty of nothing, but modest beauty : yet he, that knew this rape passed over two whole years with impunity, dares not trust the mercy of a father, in the pardon of his murder ; but for three years hides his head in the court of his grandfather, the king, of Geshur. Doubtless, that heathenish prince gave him a kind" welcome, for so meritorious a revenge of the dishououx done to his own loins.
Absalom's return and conspiracy. 3S9
No man can tell, how Absalom should have sped from the hands of his otherwise over-indulgent father, if he had been apprehended in the heat of the fact. Even the largest love may be overstrained, and may give a fall in the breaking. These fearful effects of lenity might perhaps have whetted the severity of David, to shut up these outrages in blood. Now, this displeasure was weakened with age. Time and thoughts have digested this hard morsel. David's heart told him, that his hands had a share in this offence ; that Absalom did but give that stroke, which himself had wrongfully forborne ; that the irrecoverable loss of one son, would be but woefully relieved with the loss of another : he therefore, that, in the news of the deceased infant, could change his clothes, and wash himself, and cheer up his spirits, with the resolution of, I shall go to him, he shall not return to me, comforts himself concerning Amnon ; and begins to long for Absalom.
Those three years' banishment seemed not so much a punishment to the son, as to the father. Now David begins to forgive himself; yet out of his wisdom, so inclines to favour, that he conceals it ; and yet so conceals it, that it may be descried by a cunning eye. If he had cast out no glances of affection, there had been no hopes for his Absalom ; if he had made profession of love after so foul an act, there had been no safety for others : now he lets fall so much secret grace, as may both hold up Absalom in the life of his hopes, and not hearten the presumption of others.
Good eyes see light through the smallest chink. The wit of Joab hath soon discerned David's reserved affection ; and knows how to serve him in that which he would, and would not accomplish : and now devises, how to bring into the light that birth of desire, whereof he knew David was both big and ashamed. A woman of Tekoah, (that sex hath ever been more apt for wiles,) is suborned to personate a mourner, and to say that, by way of parable, which in plain terms would have sounded too harshly ; and now, while she lamentably lays forth the loss and danger of her sons, she shews David his own ; and while she moves compassion to her pretended issue, she wins David to a pity of himself, and a favourable sen- tence for Absalom. We love ourselves better than others ; but we see others better than ourselves. Whoso would perfectly know his own case, let him view it in another person's.
Parables sped well with David. One drew him to repent of his own sin ; another, to remit Absalom's punishment : and now, as glad to hear this plea, and willing to be persuaded unto that which jf he durst he would have sought for, he gratifies Joab with the grant of that suit, which Joab more gratified him in suing for ; Go, bring again the young man Absalom.
How glad is Joab, that he hath lit upon one act, for which the sun, both setting and rising, should shine upon him ! And now he speeds to Geshur, to fetch back Absalom to Jerusalem. He may bring the long-banished prince to the city ; but to the court he may not bring him ; Lei him turn to his own house, and let him not see my face.
390 CONTEMPLATIONS.
The good king hath so smarted with mercy, that now he is re- solved upon austerity ; and will relent but by degrees. It is enough for Absalom, that he lives, and may now breathe in his native air : David's face is no object for the eyes of murderers. What a dar- ling this son was to his father appears, in that, after an unnatural and barbarous rebellion, passionate David wishes to have changed lives with him ; yet now, while his bowels yearned, his brow frowned. The face may not be seen, where the heart is set.
The best of God's saints may be blinded with affection ; but when they shall once see their errors, they are careful to correct them. Wherefore serves the power of grace, but to subdue the in- solencies of nature ? It is the wisdom of parents, as to hide their hearts from their best children, so to hide their countenances from the ungracious. Fleshly respects may not abate their rigour to the ill-deserving. For the child to see all his father's love, it is enough to make him wanton ; and of wanton, wicked : for a wicked child, to see any of his lather's love, it emboldens him in evil, and draws on others.
Absalom's house is made his prison. Justly is he confined to the place, which he had stained with blood. Two years doth he live in Jerusalem, without the happiness of his father's sight. It was enough for David and him, to see the smoke of each other's chim- nies. In the mean time, how impatient is Absalom of this absence ! He sends for Joab, the solicitor of his return. So hard a hand doth wise and holy David cany over his reduced son, that his friendly intercessor, Joab, dares not visit him.
He, that afterwards kindled that seditious fire over all Israel, sets fire now on the field of Joab. Whom love cannot draw to him, fear and anger shall.
Continued displeasure hath made Absalom desperate. Five years are passed, since he saw the face of his father ; and now he is no less weary of his life, than of this delay ; Wherefore am I come down from Geshur? It had been better for me, to have been there still : now therefore let me see the king's face, and if there be any iniquity in me, let him kill me. Either banishment or death seemed as tolerable to him, as the debarring of his father's sight.
What a torment shall it be to the wicked, to be shut out for ever, from the presence of a God, without all possible hopes of recovery! This was but a father of the flesh, by whom, if Absalom lived at first, yet in him he. lived not ; yea, not without him onlv, but against him, that son found he could live : God is the Father of Spirits, in whom we so live, that without him can be no life, no being. To be ever excluded from him, in whom we live and are, what can it be but an eternal dying, an eternal perishing ? If in thy presence, O God, be the fulness of joy, in thine absence, must needs be the fulness of horror and torment. Hide not thy face from us, O Lord, but shew us the light of thy countenance, that we may live, and praise thee.
Even the fire of Joab's field warmed the heart of David, while it gave him proof of the heat of Absalom's filial affection. As a man
Absalom's return and conspiracy. 391
therefore inwardly weary of so long displeasure, at last he receives Absalom to his sight, to his favour; and seals his pardon with a kiss. Natural parents know not how to retain an everlasting anger towards the fruit of their loins ; how much less shall the God of mercies be unreconcileably displeased with his own, and suffer his wrath to burn like fire that cannot be quenched ! He will not always chide, neither will he keep his anger for ever. His wrath endureth but a moment. In his favour is life. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
Absalom is now as great as fair. Beauty and greatness make him proud ; pride works his ruin. Great spirits will not rest con- tent with a moderate prosperity. Ere two years be run out, Absa- lom runs out into a desperate plot of rebellion ; none but his own father was above him in Israel. None was so likely, in human ex- pectation, to succeed his father. If his ambition could but have contained itself for a few years, as David was now near his period, dutiful carriage might have procured that by succession, which now he sought by force. An aspiring mind is ever impatient, and holds time itself an enemy, if it thrust itself importunately be- twixt the hopes and fruition. Ambition is never but in travail ; and can find no intermission of painful throes, till she have brought forth her abortive desires. How happy were we, if our affectation could be so eager of spiritual and heavenly promotions ! Oh that my soul could find itself so restless, till it feel the weight of that crown of glory !
Outward pomp and nn.vonted shews of magnificence, are wont much to affect the light minds of the vulgar. Absalom therefore, to the incomparable comeliness of his person, adds the unusual state of a more than princely equipage. His chariots rattle, and his horses trample proudly in the streets. Fifty footmen run before their glittering master. Jerusalem rings of their glorious prince ; and is ready to adore these continual triumphs of peace.
Excess and novelty of expensive bravery and ostentation in public persons, give just cause to suspect either vanity or a plot. True-hearted David can misdoubt nothing in him, to whom he had both given life, and forgiven this. Love construed all this, as meant to the honour of a father's court, to the expression of joy and thankfulness for his reconcilement.
The eyes and tongues of men are thus taken up : now hath Ab- salom laid snares for their hearts also. He rises early, and stands beside the way of the gate ; Ambition is no niggard of her pains ; seldom ever is good meaning so industrious: the more he sinned in beauty and royal attendance, so much more glory it was to neglect himself, and to prefer the. care of justice to his own case. Neither is Absalom more painful than plausible. His ear is open to all plaintives, all petitioners. There is no cause which he flatters not; See, thy matters arts good and right. His hand flatters every corner with a salutation, his lips with a kiss. All men, all matters are soothed, saving the state and government : the censure of that is no less deep, than the applause of all others ; There is none dc~
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puted of the king to hear thee. What insinuations could be more powerful ? No music can be so sweet to the ears of the unstable multitude, as to hear well of themselves, ill of their governors. Absalom needs not to wish himself upon the bench. Every man says, " Oh, what a curious prince is Absalom ! What a just and careful ruler would Absalom be ? How happy were we, if we might be judged by Absalom. Those qualities which are wont singly to grace others, have conspired to meet in Absalom ; good- liness of person, magnificence of state, gracious affability, unwea- ried diligence, humility in greatness, feeling pity, love of justice, care of the commonwealth. The world hath not so complete a prince as Absalom." Thus the hearts of the people are not won, but stolen, by a close traitor, from their lawfully anointed sove- reign.
Over-fair shews are a just argument of unsoundness. No natural face hath so clear a white and red, as the painted. Nothing wants now but a cloke of religion, to perfect the treachery of that ungra- cious son, who carried peace in his name, war in his heart: and how easily is that put on ! Absalom hath a holy vow to be paid in Hebron ! The devout man had made it long since, while he was exiled in Syria ; and now he hastes to perform it ; If the Lord shall bring me back again to Jerusalem, then will I serve the Lord. Wicked hypocrites care not to play with God, that they may mock men . The more deformed any act is, the fairer visor it still seeketh.
How glad is the good old king, that he is blessed with so godly a son ; whom he dismisseth laden with his causeless blessings ! What trust is there in flesh and blood, when David is not safe from his own loins ?
The conspiracy is now fully forged, there lacked nothing but this guilt of piety to win favour ana value in all eyes ; and now it is a wonder, that but two hundred honest citizens go up with Ab- salom from Jerusalem. The true-hearted lie most open to credu-i lity. How easy it is to beguile harmless intentions ! The name of David's son carries them against the father of Absalom ; and now these simple Israelites are unwittingly made loyal rebels. Their hearts are free from a plot, and they mean nothing but fidelity, in the attendance of a traitor. How many thousands are thus igno- rantly misled into the train of error ! Their simplicity is as worthy of pity, as their misguidance of indignation. Those, that will suffer themselves to be carried with semblances of tvuth and faithfulness, must needs be as far from safety as innocence. 2 Sam, xiv.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XVI.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND TRULY NOBLE LORD,
FRANCIS, LORD RUSSELL,
BARON OF THORNHAUGH, ALL INCREASE OF HONOUR AND HAPPINESS.
RIGHT HONOURABLE :
Yo U shall not need to impute it to any other reason besides your virtues, that I have presumed to shroud this piece of my labours under your noble patronage. The world hath taken just notice, how much the Gospel is graced by your real profession ; whom nei- ther honour hath made overlie, nor wealth lavish, nor charge mi- serable, nor greatness licentious. Go on happily in these safe and gainful steps of goodness ; and still honour the God that hath ho- noured you. In the mean time, accept from my unworthy hands these poor Meditations ; more high for their subject, than mean for their author : wherein, Shimei's curses shall teach you, how unable either greatness or innocence is, to bear off' the blows of ill tongues; and how baseness ever moulds itself according to the advantage of times. AhitopheV s depth, compared with his end, shall shew, how witless and insensate craft is, when it strives against honesty ; and how justly are they forsaken of their reason, that have abandoned God. The blood of Absalom and Sheba proclaim the inevitable re- venge of rebellion, which neither in woods nor walls can find safety. The late famine of Israel, for the forgotten violence offered to the Gibeonites, shews what note God takes of our oaths, and what sure vengeance of their violation. Ddvid's muster, seconded with the plague of Israel, teaches, how highly God may be offended with sins of the least appearance ; how severe to his own ; how merciful to that severity. If these my thoughts shall be approved beneficial to any soul, I am rich. I shall vow my prayers to their success, and to the happiness of your honourable family , both in the root and branches ; whereto I am, in all humble duty, devoted,
JOSEPH HALL.
SHIMEI CURSING.
With a heavy heart, and a covered head, and a weeping eve, and bare feet, is David gone away from Jerusalem. Never did he with more joy come up to this city, than now he left it with sor- row : how could he do otherwise, whom the insurrection of his
394r CONTEMPLATIONS.
own son drove out from his house, from his throne, from the ark of God ?
And now, when the depth of this grief deserved nothing but compassion, the foul mouth of Shimei entertains David with curses. There is no small cruelty, in the picking out of a time for mischief. That word would scarce gall at one season, which at another kil- leth. The same shaft, flying with the wind, pierces deep, which, against it, can hardly find strength to stick upright. The valour and justice of children condemn it for in juriously cowardly , to strike their adversary when he is once down. It is the murder of the tongue, to insult upon those whom God hath humbled, and to draw blood of that back, which is yet blue from the hand of the Al- mighty. If Shimei had not presumed upon David's dejection, he durst not have been thus bold ; now, he, that perhaps durst not have looked at one of those worthies single, defies them all at once, and doth both cast and speak stones against David and all his army. The malice of base spirits sometimes carries them further, than the courage of the valiant.
In all the time of David's prosperity, we heard no news of Shi- mei : his silence and colourable obedience made him pass for a great subject ; yet all that while was his heart unsound and trai- torous. Peace and good success hide many a false heart, like as the snow-drift covers a heap of dung, which, once melting away, descries the rottenness that lay within. Honour and welfare are but flattering glasses of men's affections. Adversity will not de- ceive us; but will make a true report, as of our own powers, so of the disposition of others.
He, that smiled on David in his throne, curseth him in his flight. If there be any quarrels, any exceptions to be taken against a man, let him look to have them laid in his dish, when he fares the hardest. Tht6 practice have wicked men learned of their master, to take the utmost advantages of our afflictions. He that suffers had need to be double armed, both against pain and censure.
Every word of Shimei was a slander : he, that took Saul's spear from his head, and repented to have but cut the lap of his gar- ment, is reproached as a man of blood : the man after God's own heart is branded for a man of Belial. He, that was sent for out of the fields to be anointed, is taxed for a usurper. If David's hand were stained with blood, yet not of Saul's house ; it was his servant, not his master, that bled bv him ; yet is the blood of the Lord's anointed cast in David's teeth, by the spite of a false tongue. Did we not see David, after all the proofs of his humble loyalty, shed- ding the blood of that Amalekite, who did but say he shed Saul's ? Did we not hear him lament passionately for the death of so ill a master, chiding the mountains of Gilboa on which he fell, and an- grily wishing that no dew might fall where that blood was poured out ; and charging the daughters of Israel to weep over Saul, who bad clothed them in scarlet ? Did we not hear and see him inquir- ing for any remainder of the house of Saul, that he might shew him the kindness of God f Did we not see him honouring lame
SHIMEI CURSING. 395
Mephibosheth, with a princely seat at his own table ? Did we not see him revenging the blood of his rival Ishbosheth, upon the heads of Rechab and Baanah ? What could any living man have done ' more, to wipe off these bloody aspersions ? Yet is not a Shimei ashamed to charge innocent David, with all the blood of the house of Saul. How is it likely this clamorous wretch had secretly tra- duced the name of David, all the time of his government, that dares thus accuse him to his face, before all the mighty men of Is- rael, who were witnesses of the contrary I
The greater the person is, the more open do his actions lie to misinterpretation and censure. Every tongue speaks partially, ac- cording to the interest he hath in the cause, or the patient. It is not possible, that eminent persons should be free from imputations : in- nocence can no more protect them, than power.
If the patience of David can digest this indignity, his train can- not. Their fingers could not but itch, to return iron for stones. If Shimei rail on David, Abishai rails on Shimei. Shimei is of Saul's family ; Abishai of David's : each speaks for his own. Abishai most justly bends his tongue against Shimei, as Shimei against Da- vid most unjustly. Had Shimei been any other than a dog, he had never so rudely barked at a harndess passenger; neither could he deserve less than the loss of that head, which had uttered such blasphemies against God's anointed. The zeal of Abishai doth but plead for justice, and is checked ; What have I to do with you, ye sons of Zeruiah? David said not so much to his reviler, as to his abettor. He well saw, that a revenge was just, but not seasonable. He found the present a fit time, to suffer wrongs, not to right them ; he therefore gives way rather meekly to his own humiliation, than to the punishment of another. There arc seasons wherein lawful motions are not fit to be cherished : anger doth not become a mourner : one passion at once is enough for the soul. Unadvised zeal may be more prejudicial, than a cold remissness.
What if the Lord, for the correction of his servant, have said un- to Shimei, Curse David ; yet is Shimei's curse no less worthy of Abishai's sword. The sin of Shimei's curse was his own ; the smart ot the curse was God's. God wills that, as David's chastisement, which he hates, as Shimei's wickedness. That lewd tongue moved from God ; it moved lewdly from Satan. Wicked men are never the freer from guilt or punishment, for that hand which the Holy God hath in their offensive actions. Yet David can say, Let him alone, and let him curse, for the Lord hath bidden him ; as mean- ing to give a reason of his own patience, rather than Shimei's im- punity. The issue shewed, how well David could distinguish be- twixt the act of God and of a traitor ; how he could both kiss the rod, and burn it. There can be none so strong motive of our meek submission to evils, as the acknowledgment of their original. He, that can see the hand of God striking him by the hand or tongue ot an enemy, shall more awe the first mover of his arm, than ma- Jign the instrument.
Even while David laments the rebellion of his son, he gains by
396 CONTEMPLATIONS.
it ; and makes that the argument of his patience, which was the exercise of it; Behold, my son, which came forth of my bowels, seeketh my life ; how much more now may this Benjamite do it? The wickedness of an Absalom may rob his father of comfort, but shall help to add to his father's goodness. It is the advantage of great crosses, that the)- swallow up the less. One man's sin cannot be excused by another's ; the lesser, by the greater ; if Absalom be a traitor, Shimei may not curse and rebel : but the passion con- ceived from the indignity of a stranger, may be abated by the harder measure of our own. If we can therefore suffer, because we have suffered, we have profited by our affliction. A weak heart faints with every addition of succeeding trouble: the strong recol- lects itself ; and is grown so skilful, that it bears off one mischief with another.
It is not either the unnatural insurrection of Absalom, nor the un- just curses of Shimei, that can put David quite out of heart; It may be, that theLord will lookor. mine affliction, and will requite good for his cursing this day. So well was David acquainted with the proceedings of God, that he knew cherishing was ever wont to follow stripes ; after vehement evacuation, cordials ; after a dark night, the clear light of the morning : hope therefore dotli not only uphold, but cheer up his heart, in the midst of his sorrow. If we can look beyond the cloud of our affliction, and see the sun- shine of comfort on the other side of it, we cannot be so discou- raged with the presence of evil, as heartened with the issue ; as, on the contrary, let a man be never so merrv within, and see pain and misery waiting for him at the door, his expectation of evil shall easily daunt all the sense of his pleasure. The retributions of tem- poral favours go but by peradventures ; It may be, the Lord will took on mine affliction; of eternal, are certain and infallible. If we suffer, we shall reign : why should not the assurance of reign- ing make us triumph in suffering ?
David's patience draws on the insolence of Shimei. Evil natures grow presumptuous upon forbearance : in good dispositions, injury unanswered grows weary of itself, and dies in a voluntary remorse; but in those dogged stomachs, which are only capable of the re- straints of fear, the silent digestion of a former wrong provokes a second. Mercy had need to be guided with wisdom, lestitpixwe cruel to itself.
Oh the base minds of inconstant time-servers! Stay but awhile, till the wheel be a little turned, you shall see humble Shimei fall down on his face before David, in his return over Jordan : now, his submission shall equal his former rudeness ; his prayers shall requite his curses ; his tears make amends for his stones ; Let not my lord impute iniquity unto me t neither do thou remember that which thy servant did perversely, the day that my lord tlie king went out of Jerusalem, that the king should take it to heart ; for thy servant doth know that I have sinned. False-hearted Shimei ! had Absalom prospered, thou hadst not sinned ; thou hadst not repent- ed : then hadst thou bragged of thine insultation over his miseries,
AHITOPHEL. 397
whose pardon thou now beggest with tears. The changes of worldly minds are thankless, since they are neither wrought out of con- science nor love, but only by slavish fear of just punishment.
David could say no more to testify his sorrow for his heinous sins against God to Nathan, than Shimei says of himself to Da- vid ; whereto may be added the advantage of a voluntary con- fession in this offender, which in David was extorted by the reproof of a prophet t yet is David's confession seriously penitent ; Shi- mei's, craftily hypocritical. Those alterations are justly suspected, which are shaped according to the times and outward occasions : the true penitent looks only at God and his sin, and is changed when all others things are themselves.
Great offences had need of answerable satisfaction. As Shimei was the only man of the house of Benjamin that came forth and cursed David in his flight, so is he the first man (even before those of Joseph, though nearer in situation) that comes to meet David ia his return with prayers and gratulations. Notorious offenders may not think to sit down, with the task of ordinary services. The re- tributions of their obedience must be proportionable to their crimes. 2 Samuel xvi.
AHITOPHEL.
So soon as David heard of Ahitophel's hand in that conspiracy, he falls to his prayers ; 0 Lord, I pray thee, turn the counsel of Ahi- tophel into foolishness. The known wisdom of his revolted coun- sellor, made him a dangerous and dreadful adversary. Great parts misemployed cannot but prove most mischievous. When wicked- ness is armed with wit and power, none but a God can defeat it : when we are matched with a strong and subtle enemy, it is high time, if ever, to be devout : if the bounty of God have thought good to furnish his creatures with powers to war against himself, his wisdom knows how to turn the abuse of those powers to the shame of the owners, and the glory of the giver.
Oh the policy of this Machiavel of Israel, no less deep than hell itself! " Go in to thy father's concitbines, which he hath left to keep the house ; and when all Israel shall hear that thou art abhorred of thy father, the hands of all that are with thee shall be strong. The first care must be to secure the faction. There can be no safety, in siding with a doubtful rebel. If Absalom be a traitor, yet he is a son. Nature may return to itself : Absalom may relent; David may remit : where then are we, that have helped to promote the conspiracy ? The danger is ours, while this breach may be pieced. There is no way, but to engage Absalom in some further act, incapable of forgiveness. Besides the throne, let him violate the bed of his father: unto his treason, let him add an incest, no less unnatural : now shall the world see, that Absalom neither Itopes nor cares for the reconciliation of a father. Our quarrel caft never have any safe ead but victory ; the hope whereof de-
3SJ8
CONTEMPLATIONS.
pends upon tlie resolution of our followers : they cannot be reso- lute, but upon the unpardonable wickedness of their leader. Nei- ther can this villainy be shameful enough, if it be secret. The closeness of evil argues fear or modesty ; neither of which can be- seem him that would be a successful traitor : set up a tent on the top of the house, and let all Israel be witnesses of thy sin, and thy father's shame. Ordinary crimes are for vulgar offenders : let Absalom sin eminently ; and do that, which may make the world at once to blush and wonder."
Who would ever have thought, that Ahitophel had lived at court, at the council-table of a David? Who would think, that mouth had ever spoken well ? Yet had he been no other than as the oracle of God, to the religious court of Israel ; even while he was not wise enough to be good. Policy and grace are not always lodged under one roof. This man, while he was one of David's deep counsellors, was one of David's fools, that said in their hearts, There is no God ; else he could not have hoped to make good an evil with worse, to build the success of treason upon incest. Profane hearts do so contrive the plots of their wickedness, as if there were no over- ruling power, to cross their designs, or to revenge them. He that sits in heaven laughs them to scorn ; and so far gives way to their sins, as their sins may prove plagues unto themselves.
These two sons of David met with pestilent counsel : Amnon is advised to incest with his sister ; Absalom is advised to incest with his father's concubines : that by Jonadab ; this by Ahitophel. Both prevail. It is as easy, at least, to take ill counsel, as to give it. Proneness to villainy in the great, cannot want either projectors to devise, or parasites to execute, the most odious sins, t
The tent is spread, lest it should not be conspicuous enough, on the top of the house. The act is done, in the sight of all Israel. The filthiness of the sin was not so great, as the impudency of the manner. When the prophet Nathan came with that heavy mes- sage of reproof and menace to David, after his sin with Bathshe- ba, he could say from God, Behold, I will raise up evit against thee, out of thine own house ; and will take thy wives before thine eyes, and give them unto thy neighbour, and he shall lie with thy wives in the sight of this sun : for thou didst it secretly, but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before this sun. The coun- sel of Ahitophel and the lust of Absalom have fulfilled the judg- ment of God. Oh the wisdom of the Almighty, that can use the worst evils well, and most justly make the sins of men his execu- tioners !
It was the sin of Reuben, that he defiled his father's bed ; yet not in the same height of lewdness. What Reuben did in a youth- ful wantonness, Absalom did in a malicious despite: Reuben sin- ned with one, Absalom with ten ; Reuben secretly, Absalom in the open eyes of heaven and earth ; yet old Jacob could say of Reu- ben, Thou shall not excel; thy dignity is gone ; while Ahitophel says to Absalom, " Thy dignity shall arise from incest; climb up to thy father's bed, if thou wilt sit in his throne." If Ahitophel
AHITOPHEL. 399
were a politician, Jacob was a prophet : if the one spake from carnal sense, the other from divine revelation. Certainly, to sin is not the way to prosper : whatever vain fools promise to themselves, There is no wisdom, nor understanding, nor counsel against the Lord.
After the rebellion is secured for continuance, the next care is that it may end in victory. This also hath the working head of Ahitophel projected. Wit and experience told him, that, in these cases of assault, celerity uses to bring forth the happiest dispatch ; whereas protraction is no small advantage to the defendant. Let vie, saith he, chuseout now twelve thousand men, and L itnll up, and follow after David this night ,■ and L will come upon him, while he is weary and weak-handed. No advice could be more pernicious ; for, besides the weariness and unreadiness of David and his army, the spirits of that worthy leader were daunted and dejected with sorrow, and offered way to the violence of a sudden assault. Tlfe field had been half won, ere any blow stricken. Ahitophel could not have been reputed so wise, if he had not learned the due pro- portion betwixt actions and times. He, that observeth every wind, shall never sow; but he, that observeth no wind at all, shall never reap.
The likeliest devices do not always succeed. The God, that had appointed to establish David's throne, and determined Solomon to his succession, finds means to cross the plot of Ahitophel, by a less probable advice. Hushai was not sent back for nothing. Where God hath in his secret will decreed any event, he inclines the wills of men to approve that, which may promote his own pur- poses. Neither had Hushai so deep a head, neither was his coun- sel so sure, as that of Ahitophel ; yet his tongue shall refel Ahito- phel, and divert Absalom. The pretences were fairer, though the grounds were unsound. First, to sweeten his Opposition, he yields the praise of wisdom to his adversary in all other counsels, that he may have leave to deny it in this ; his very contradiction in the present, insinuates a general allowance: then, he suggests certain apparent truths concerning David's valour and skill, to give countenance to the inferences of his improbabilities : lastly, he cunningly feeds the proud humour of Absalom, in magnifying tw. power and extent of his commands, and ends in the glorious boasts of his fore-promised victory. As it is with faces, so with counsel, that is fair that pleascth. He, that gives the utterance to words, gives also their speed. Favour, both of speech and men, is not ever according to desert, but according to fore-ordination. The tongue cf Hushai, and the heart of Absalom, is guided by a power above their own; Hushai shall therefore prevail with Absalom, that the treason of Absalom may not prevail. He, that worketh all in all things, so disposeth of wicked men and spirits, that, while they do most oppose his revealed will, they execute his secret; and, whde they think most to please, they overthrow themselves.
When Absalom first met Hushai returned to Jerusalem, he Upbraided him pleasantly, with the scoff of his professed friendship
400 CONTEMPLATIONS,
to David ; Is this thy kindness to thy friend ? Sometimes there is more truth in the mouth, than in the heart ; more in jest, than in earnest. Hushai was a friend ; his stay was his kindness ; and now he hath done that, for which he was left at Jerusalem ; disap- ointed Ahitophel, preserved David. Neither did his kindness to is friend rest here; but, as one that was justly jealous of him with whom he was allowed to temporize, he mistrusts the appro- bation of Absalom ; and, not daring to put the life of his master upon such a hazard, he gives charge to Zadok and Abiathar, of this intelligence unto David. We cannot be too suspicious, when we have to do with those that are faithless. We cannot be too cu- rious, of the safety of good princes.
Hushai fears not to descry the secrets of Absalom's counsel. To betray a traitor is no other than a commendable work.
Zadok and Abiathar are fast within the gates of Jerusalem. Their sons lay purposely abroad in the fields. This message, that con- cerned no less than the life of David, and the whole kingdom of Israel, must be trusted with a maid : sometimes it pleaseth the wis- dom of God, who hath the variety of heaven and earth before him, to single out weak instruments for great services ; and they shall serve li is turn, as well as the best: no counsellor of state could have made this dispatch more effectual.
Jonathan and Ahimaaz arc sent, descried, pursued, preserved. The fidelity of a maid instructed them in their message ; the sub- tlety of a woman saved their lives. At the well of Rogel, they re- ceived their message ; in the well of Bahurim, was their life aved. The sudden wit of a woman hath choked the mouth of her well with dried corn, that it might not bewray the messengers.
And now David hears safely of his danger, and prevents it ; and, though weary with travel and laden with sorrow, he must spend the night in his remove. God's promises of his deliverance and the confirmation of his kingdom, may not make him neglect the means of his safety. If He be faithful, we may not be careless ; since our diligence and care are appointed for the factors of that divine providence. The acts of God must abate nothing of ours; rather must we labour, by doing that which he requireth, to further that which he decreeth.
There are those, that have great wits for the public, none for themselves : such was Ahitophel ; who, while he had power to govern a state, could not tell how to rule his own passions. Never till now, do we find his counsel balked ; neither was it now reject- ed as ill, only Hushai's was allowed for better. He can live no longer, now that he is beaten at his own weapon : this alone is cause enough, to saddle his ass ; and to go home, and put the halter about his own neck. Pride causes men, both to misinterpret dis- graces, and to overrate them.
Now is David's prayer heard : Ahitophel 's counsel is turned into foolishness. Desperate Ahitophel ! what if thou be not the wisest •man of all Israel r Even those, that have not attained to the highest pitch of wisdom, have found contentment in a mediocrity. What
THE DEATH OF ABSALOM. 401
if thy counsel were despised ? A wise man knows to live happily, in spight of an unjust contempt. What madness is this, to revenge another man's reputation upon thyself ? And, while thou strivest for the highest room of wisdom, to run into the grossest extremity of folly ? "Worldly wisdom is no protection from shame and ruin. How easily mav a man, though naturally wise, be made weary of life ! A little pain, a little shame, a little loss, a small affront, can soon rob a man of all comfort ; and cause his own hands, to rob him of himself. If there be not higher re pects than the world can yield, to maintain us in being, it should be a miracle, if indigna- tion did not kill more than disease : now, that God, by whose ap- pointment we live here, for his most wise and holy purposes hath found means to make life sweet, and death terrible.
What a mixture do we find here, of wisdom and madness ! Ahi- tophel will needs hang himself; there is madness: he will yet set his house in order ; there is an act of wisdom. And could it be possible that he, who was so wise as to set his house in order, should be so mad as to hang himself? that he should be careful to order his house, who regarded not to order his impotent passions ? that he should care for his house, who cared not for either body or soul ? How vain it is for a man to be wise, if he be not wise in God ! How prosperous are the cares of idle worldlings, that prefer all other things to themselves ; and, while they look at what they have in their coffers, forget what they have in their breasts !
2 Sam. xvi, xvii.
THE DEATH OF ABSALOM.
The same God, that raised enmity to David from his own loins, procured him favour from foreigners : strangers shall relieve him, whom his own son persecutes. Here is not a loss, but an exchange of love. Had Absalom been a son of Amnion, and Shobi a son of David, David had found no cause of complaint. If God take with one hand, he gives with another : while that divine bounty serves us in good meat, though not in our own dishes, we have good rea- son to be thankful. No sooner is David come to Mehanaim, than Barzillai, Machir, and Shobi refresh him with provisions. Who ever saw any child of God left utterly destitute ? Whosoever be the messenger of our aid, we know whence he comes. Heaven shall want power and earth means, before any of the household of faith shall want maintenance.
He, that formerly was forced to employ his arms for his defence against a tyrannous father-in-law, must now buckle them on against an unnatural son. Now therefore, he musters his men, and ordains his commanders, and marshals his troops; and, since their loyal importunity will not allow the hazard of his person, he at once encourages them by his eye, and restrains them with his tongue ; Deal gently with the young man Absalom, for my sake.
VOL. I. D D
*02
CONTEMPLATION'S.
How unreasonably favourable are the wars of a father ! O holy David, what means this illplaced love, this unjust mercy; Deal gently with a traitor ? but, of all traitors, with a son ? of all sons, with an Absalom, the graceless darling of so good a father ? and all this for my sake, whose crown, whose blood, he hunts after ? For whose sake should Absalom be pursued, if he must be forborne for thine ? He was still courteous to thy followers, affable to suitors, plausible to all Israel ; only to thee he is cruel. Wherefore are those arms, it" the cause of the quarrel must be a motive of mercy ? Yet thou sayest, Deal gently with the young wan Absalom, for ?ny sake. Even in the holiest parents, nature may be guilty of an injurious tenderness, of a bloody indulgence.
Or, whether shall we not rather think this was done, in type of that unmeasurable mercy of the true King and Redeemer of Israel, who prayed for his persecutors, for his murderers; and, even while they were at once scorning and killing him, could say, Fa- ther, forgive them, for they know not what they do ? If we be sons, we are ungracious, we are rebellious ; yet still is our Heavenly Fa- ther thus compassionately regardful of us. David was not sure of his success. There was great inequality in the number. Absalom's forces were more than double to his. It might have come to the contrary issue, that David should have been forced to say, Deal gently zoith the father of Absalom ; but, in a supposition of that victory, which only the goodness of his cause bid him hope for, he saith, Deal gently with the young man Absalom. As for us, we are never but under mercy : our God needs no advantages to sweep us from the earth, any moment ; yet he continues that life, and those powers to us, whereby we provoke him ; and bids his angels deal kindly with us and bear us in their arms, while we lift up our hands and bend our tongues against Heaven. O mercy past the comprehension of all finite spirits, and only to be con- ceived by him whose it is '. never more resembled by any earthly affection, than by this of his deputy and type; Deal gently with the young man Absalom, for my sake.
The battle is joined. David's followers arc but a handful to Ab- salom's. How easily may the fic kle multitude be transported to the Wrong side ! What they wanted in abettors, is supplied in the cause. Unnatural ambition draws the sword of Absalom ; David's, a necessary and a just defence. The) , that in simplicity of heart followed Absalom, cannot in malice of heart persecute the father of -Absalom: with what courage, could any Israelite draw his sword against a David ? Or, on the other side, who can want cou- rage, to fight for a righteous sovereign and lather, against the con- spiracy of a wicked son ?
The God of Hosts, with whom it is all one to save w ith many or with few, takes part with justice; and lets Israel feel, what it is to bear arms for a traitorous usurper. The sword devours twenty thousand of them ; and the wood devours more than the sword. It must n«eds be a very universal rebellion, wherein so many pe-
THE DEATH OF ABSALOM.
403
rished. What virtue or merits can assure the hearts of the vulgar, when so gracious a prince rinds so many revolters?
Let no man look to prosper by rebellion : the very thickets, and stakes, and pits, and wild beasts of the woods shall conspire to the punishment of traitors. Amongst the rest, see how a fatal oak hath singled out the ringleader of this hateful insurrection ; and will at once serve for his hangman and gallows, by one of those spreading arms snatching him away to speedy execution.
Absalom was comely, and he knew it well enough. His hair was no small piece of his beauty, nor matter of his pride. It was his wont, to cut it once a year ; not for that it was too long, but too heavy : his heart would have borne it longer, if his neck had not complained. And now, the justice of God hath platted a halter of those locks. Those tresses had formerly hanged loosely dishevelled on his shoulders ; now he hangs by them. He had wont, to weigh his hair, and was proud to find it so heavy ; now his hair poiseth the weight of his body, and makes his burden his torment. It is no marvel, if his own hair turned traitor to him, who durst rise up against his father. That part, which is misused by man to sin, is commonlv employed by God to revenge. The revenge, that it worketh for God, makes amends for the offence, whereto it is drawn against God. The very beast whereon Absalom sat, as weary to bear so unnatural a burden resigns over his load to the tree of jus- tice. There hangs Absalom between heaven and earth, as one that was hated and abandoned both of earth and heaven. As if God meant to prescribe this punishment for traitors, Absalom, Ahito- phel, and Judas die all one death. So let them perish, that dare lift up their hand against God's anointed.
The honest soldier sees Absalom hanging in the oak, and dares not toucli him : his hands were held witli the charge of David, Beware that none touch the young man Absalom. Joab, upon that intelligence, sees him, and smites him with no less than three darts. What the soldier forbore in obedience, the captain doth in zeal : not fearing to prefer his sovereign's safety, to his command ; and more tendering the life of a king and peace of his country, than the weak affection of a father. I dare not sit judge, betwixt this zeal and that obedience ; betwixt the captain and the soldier : the one was a good subject, the other a good patriot ; the one loved the king, the other loved David, and out of love disobeyed ; the one meant as well as the other sped.
As if God meant to fulfil the charge of his anointed, without any blame of his subjects, it pleased him to execute that imme- diate revenge upon the rebel, which would have dispatched him without hand or dart. Only the mule and the oak conspired to this execution ; but that death would have required more leisure, than it was safe for Israel to give ; and still life would give hope of res- cue. To cut off all fears, Joab lends the oak three darts to help forward so needful a work of justice.
All Israel did not afford so firm a friend to Absalom, as Joab had been. Who but Joab, had suborned the witty widow of Te-
404 Contemplations.
koah, to sue for the recalling of Absalom, from his three years* exile ? Who but he, went to fetch him from Geshur to Jerusalem ? Who but he, fetched him from his house at Jerusalem, whereto he had been two years confined, to the face, to the lips of David ? Yet now he, that was his solicitor for the king's favour, is his exe- cutioner against the king's charge. With honest hearts, all respects, either of blood or friendship, cease in the case of treason. Well hath Joab fore, otten himself to be a friend to him, who had forgot- ten himself to be a son. Even civilly, the king is our common fa- ther ; our country our common mother: nature hath no private relations, winch should not gladly give place to these. lie is nei- ther father, nor son, nor brother, nor friend, that conspires against the common parent. Well doth he, who spake parables for his Piaster's son, now speak darts to his king's enemy ; and pierces that heart, which was false to so great a father. Those darts arc seconded by Joab's followers : each man tries his weapon upon so fair a mark.
One death is not enough for Absalom : lie is at once hanged, shot, mangled, stoned. Justly was he lift up to the oak, who had lift up himself against his father and sovereign : justly is he pierced with darts, who had pierced his father's heart with so many sor- rows: justly is he mangled, who hath dismembered and divided all Israel: justly is he stoned, who hath not only cursed, but pursued his own parent.
Now Joab sounds the retreat ; and calls off his eager troops- from execution, however he knew what his rebellious countrymen had deserved in following an Absalom. Wise commanders know how to put a difference, betwixt the heads of a faction, and the misguided multitude ; and can pity the one, while they take revenge on the other.
So did Absalom esteem himself, that he thought it would be a wrong to the world, to want the memorial of so goodly a person. God had denied him sons : how just it was, that he Should want a son, who had robbed his father of a son ; who would have robbed himself of a father, his father of a kingdom ! It had been pity, so poisonous a plant should have been fruitful. His pride shall sup- ply nature : he rears up a stately pillar in the king's dale, , and calls it by his own name ; that he might live in dead stones, who could not survive in living issue : and now, behold this curious pile ends in a rude heap, which speaks no language, but the shame of that carcase which it covers. Hear this, ye glorious fools, that care not to perpetuate any memory of yourselves to the world, but of ill deserving greatness. The best of this affectation is vanity ; the worst, infamy and dishonour : whereas, The memorial of the just shall be blessed ; and, if bis humility shall refuse an epitaph, and chuse to hide himself under the bare earth, God himself shall en- grave his name upon the pillar of eternity.
There now lies Absalom in the pit, under a thousand grave- stones, in every of which is written his everlasting reproach. Well might thfs heap overlive that pillar ; for when that ceased to be a-
THE DEATH OF ABSALOM. 405
pillar, it began to be a beap ; neither will it cease to be a monu- ment of Absalom's shame, while there are stones to be found upon earth. Even at this day, very pagans and pilgrims that pass that way, cast each man a stone unto that heap ; and are wont to say, in a solemn execration, " Cursed be the parricide Absalom, and cursed be all unjust persecutors of their parents, for ever." Fasten your eyes upon this woeful spectacle, O all ye rebellious and un- gracious children, which rise up against the loins and thighs from wliich ye fell ; and know, that it is the least part of your punish- ment, that your carcases rot in the earth, and your name in igno- miny : these do but shadow out those eternal sufferings of your souls, for your foul and unnatural disobedience.
Absalom is dead. Who shall report it to his father ? Surely Joab was not so much afraid of the fact, as of the message. There are busy spirits that love to carry news, though thankless, though purposeless; such as Ahimaaz, the son of Zadok, who importu- nately thrust himself into this service. Wise Joab, who well saw bow unwelcome tidings must be the burden of the first post, dis- suades him in vain. He knew David too well, to employ a friend to that errand. An Ethiopian servant was a litter bearer of such a message, than the son of the priest. The entertainment of the person doth so follow the. quality of the news, that David coidd argue afar off, lie is a good man ; he eometh with good tidings. Oh how welcome deserve those messengers to be, that bring us the glad tidings of salvation ; that assure us of the foil of all spiritual enemies; and tell us of nothing but victories, and crowns, and kingdoms ! If we think not their feet beautiful, our hearts are foul with infidelity and secure worldliness.
So wise is Ahimaaz grown by Joab's intimation, that, though he outwent Cushi in his pace, he suffers Cushi to outgo him in his tale ; cunningly suppressing that part, which he knew must be most necessarily delivered, and unplcasingly received.
As our care is wont to be where our love is, David's first word is not, " How fares the host ?" but Mow fares the young man Ab- salom ? Like a wise and faithful messenger, Cushi answers by an honest insinuation ; The enemies of my lord the king, and all that l ist; against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is ; imply- ing, both what was done, and why David should approve it l>ring done. How is the good king thunder-struck, with that word of his blackamoor ! Who, as if he were at once bereaved of all com- fort, and cared not to live but in the name of Absalom, goes and weeps and cries out, O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! Would God I had died for thee; 0 Absalom, my son, my son! What is this we hear? That he, whose life Israel valued at ten thousand °f theirs, should be exchanged with a traitor's? That a good king, whose life was sought, should wish to lay it down for the preservation of his murderer ? The best men have not wont to be the least passionate. But what shall we say to that love of thine,
0 Saviour, who hast said of us wretched traitors, not, Would God
1 had died for you; but " I " ill die; I do die; I have died for
406 CONTEMPLATIONS.
you r" Oh love, like thyself, infinite, incomprehensible ; whereat the angels of Heaven stand yet amazed ; wherewith thy saints are ravished. Turn away thine eyes from me; for they overcome inc. O thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy •voice : cause us to hear it ; that we may, in our measure, anszcer thy love, and enjoy it for ever. 2 Sam. xvii, xviii.
SHEBA'S REBELLION.
It was the doom, which God passed upon the man after his own heart, by the mouth of Nathan, that the sword should never de- part from his house, for the blood of Uriah : after that wound healed by remission, yet this scar remains ; Absalom is no sooner cast down into the pit, than Sheba the son of Bichri is up in arms. If David be not plagued, yet he shall be corrected ; first bv the rod of a son, then of a subject : he had lift up his hand against a faithful subject ; now a faithless dares to lift up his hand against him.
Malice, like some hereditary sickness, runs in a blood : Saul, and Shimei, and Sheba were all of a house. That ancient o-rudue was not yet dead. The fire of the house of Jemini was but raked up, never thoroughly out ; and now, that, which did but smoke in Shimei, flames in Sheba : although even through this chastisement, it is not hard to discern a type of that perpetual succession of en- mity, which should be raised against the true king of Israel. O Son of David, when didst thou ever want enemies ? How wert thou designed by thine eternal Father, For a sign that should be spoken against ! How did the gentiles rage, and the people imagine vain things ! The kings of the earth assembled, and the rulers came together, against thee. Yea, how do the subjects of thine own kingdom daily conspire against thee ! Even now, while thou enjoyest peace and glory at thy Father's right hand, as soon shalt thou want friends as enemies upon earth.
No eye of any traitor could espy a just quarrel in the govern- ment of David : yet Sheba blows the trumpet of rebellion ; and, while Israel and Judah are striving who should have the greatest part in their re-established sovereign, he sticks not to say, Wehave no part in David, neither have zve inheritance in the son of Jesse ; and, while he says, Every man to his tents, 0 Israel, he calls every man to his own : so, in proclaiming alibertv from a just and loyal subjection, he invites Israel to the bondage of a usurper.
That a lewd conspirator should breathe treason, it is no wonder ; but is it not wonder and shame, that, upon every mutinous blast, Israel should turn traitor to God's anointed ? It was their late ex- postulation witli David, why their brethren the men of Judah should have stolen him from them ; now might David more justly expostulate, why a rebel of their brethren should have stolen them from him.
As nothing" is more unstable than the multitude, so nothing is
sheba's rebellion. 407
more subject to distastes than sovereignty ; for as weak minds seek pleasure in change, so every light conceit of irritation seems suffi- cient colour of change. Such as the false dispositions of the vul- gar are, love cannot be security enough for princes, without the awfulness of power. What hold can there be of popularity, when the same hands, that even now fought for David to be all theirs, now fight against him, under the son of Bichri, as none of theirs ?
As bees, when they are once up in a swarm, are ready to light upon every bough, so the Israelites, being stirred by the late com- motion of Absalom, are apt to follow every Sheba. It is unsafe for any state, that the multitude should once ki|o\v the way to an insurrection ; the least track in this kind is easily made a path.
Yet if Israel rebel, Judah continues faithful ; neither shall the son of David ever be left destitute of some true subjects in the worst, of apostacies. He, that could command all hearts, will ever be followed by some, God would rather glorify himself by a remnant.
Great commanders must have active thoughts. David is not so taken up with the embroiled affairs of his state, as not to intend domestic justice. His ten concubines, which were shamelessly de- filed by his incestuous son, are condemned to Avard and widow- hood. Had not that constupration been partly violent, their pu- nishment had not been so easy ; had it not also been partly volun- tary, they had not. been so much punished : but how much soever the act did partake of either force or will, justly are they seques- tered from David's bed. Absalom was not more unnatural in his rebellion, than in his lust : if now David should have returned to his own bed, he had seconded the incest. How much more worthy of separation are they, who have stained the marriage bed with their wilful sin !
Amasa was one of the witnesses and abettors of Absalom's filth i- ness ; yet is he, out of policy, received to favour and employment, while the concubines suffer. Great men yield many times to those things, out of reasons of state, which, if they were private persons, could not be easily put over.
It is no small w isdom, to engage a new reconciled friend, that he may be confirmed by his own act ; therefore is Amasa com- manded to lev)- the forces of Judah.
Joab, after many great merits and achievements, lies rusting in neglect : he, that was so if) tire with David, as to be of his counsel for Uriah's blood, and so firm to David, as to lead all his battles against the house of Saul, the Ammonites, the Aramitos, Absa- lom ; is now cashiered, and must yield his place to a stranger late an enemy. Who knows not, that tins son of Zeruiah had shed the blodd of war in peace i Rut if the blood of Absalom had not been louder than the blood of Abner, I fear this change had not been : now Joab smarteth for a loyal disobedience. How slippery are the stations of earthly honours, and subject, to continual muta- bility ! Happy are they, who are in favour with, him, in whom there is no shadow of change.
408 CONTEMPLATIONS.
Where men are commonly most ambitions to please with tliei first employments, Amasa slackens his pace. The least delay if matters of rebellion is perilous ; may be irrecoverable: the sons o Zeruiah are not sullen : Abishai is sent, Joab goes unsent, to the pursuit of Sheba. Amasa was in their way ; whom no quarrel but their envy, had made of a brother an enemy. Had the heart of Amasa been privy to any cause of grudge, he had suspected the kiss of Joab : now his innocent eyes look to the lips, not to the. hand, of his secret enemy. The lips were smooth; Art thou in health, my brother ? The hand was bloody, which smote him under the fifth rib. That unhappy hand knew well this way unto death; which, with one wound, hath let out the souls of two great cap- tains, Abner and Amasa : both they were smitten by Joab ; both under the fifth rib ; both under a pretence of friendship. There is no enmity so dangerous as that, which comes masked with love : open hostility calls us to our guard ; but there is no fence against a trusted treachery : we need not be bidden to avoid an enemy, but who would run away from a friend ? Thus, spiritually, deals the world with our souls : it kisses us, and stabs us, at once. If it did not embrace us with one hand, it could not murder us with the other : only, God, deliver us from the danger of our trust, and we shall be safe.
Joab is gone ; and leaves Amasa wallowing in blood. That spectacle cannot but stay all passengers. The death of great per- sons draws ever many eyes. Each man says ; " Is not this my lord Amasa ? Wherefore do we go to fight, while our general lies in the dust ? What a sad presage is this of our own miscarriage ?" The wit of Joab's followers hath therefore soon both removed Amasa out of the way, and covered him ; not regarding so much the loss, as the eye-sore of Israel. Thus wicked politics care not so much for the commission of villany, as for the notice. Smother- ed evils are as not done. If oppressions, if murder, if treasons may be hid from view, the obdured heart of the offender complains not of remorse.
Bloody Joab, with what face, with what heart, canst thou pur- sue a traitor to thy king, while thou thyself art so foul a traitor to thy friend ; to thy cousin-german ; and, in so unseasonable a slaughter, to thy sovereign, whose cause thou professest to re- venge ? If Amasa were now, in an act of loyalty, justly, on God's part, paid for the arrearages of his late rebellion, yet that it should be done by thy hand, then and thus, it was flagitiously cruel : yet, behold, Joab runs away securely with the fact ; hasting to plague that in another, whereof himself was no less guilty. So vast are the gorges of some consciences, that they can swallow the greatest crimes, and find no strain in the passage.
It is possible, for a man to be faithful to some one person, and perfidious to all others. I do not find Joab other than firm and loyal to David, in the midst of all his private falsehoods; whose just quarrel he pursues against Sheba, through all the trihes of Is- rael. None of all the strong forts of revolted Israel, can hide the
sheba's rebellion. 409
rebel from the zeal of his revenge. The city of Abel lends harbour to that conspirator, whom all Israel would and cannot protect. Joab casts up a mount against it ; and, having environed it with a siege, begins to work upon the wall ; and now, after long chase, is in hand to dig out that vermin, which had earthed himself in this borough of Beth-maachah !
Had not the city been strong and populous, Shcba had not cast himself for succour within those walls ; yet, of all the inhabitants, I see not any one man move for the preservation of their whole body ; only a woman undertakes to treat with Joab, for their safety. These men, whose spirits were great enough to maintain a traitor against a mighty king, scorn not to give way to the wisdom of a matron. There is no reason, that sex should disparage, where the virtue and merit is no less than masculine. Surely the soul acknowledged) no sex ; neither is varied according to the outward frame. How oft have we known female hearts in the breasts of men; and, contrarily, manly powers in the weaker vessels! It is injurious, to measure the act by the person, and not rather to es- teem the person for the act.
She, with no less prudence than courage, challengeth Joab for the violence of his assault ; and lays to him that law, which he could not be an Israelite and disavow ; the law of the God of peace, whose charge it was, that when they should come near to a city to fight against it, they should offer it peace ; and if this tender must be made to foreigners, how much more to brethren ! so as they must inquire of Abel, ere they battered it. War is the extreme act of vindicative justice ; neither doth God ever approve it, for any other than a desperate remedy ; and if it have any other end than peace, it turns into public murder. It is therefore, an inhu- man cruelty, to shed blood, where we have not proffered fair con- ditions of peace ; the refusal whereof is justly punished, with the sword of revenge.
Joab was a man of blood; yet when the wise woman of Abel charged him with going about to destroy a mother in Israel, and swallowing up the inheritance of the Lord, with what vehemency doth he deprecate that challenge; God forbid, God forbid it me, that I should devour, or destroy it ! Although that city, with the vest, had engaged itself in Sheba's sedition, yet how zealously doth Joab remove from himself the suspicion of an intended vastation ! How fearful shall their answer be, who, upon the quarrel of their own ambition, have not spared to waste whole tribes of the Israel of God !
It was not the fashion of David's captains, to assault an}' city fere they summoned it : here they did. There be some things, that, in the very fact, carry their own conviction : so did Abel, in the entertaining and abetting a known conspirator. Joab challengeth them for the offence, and requires no other satisfaction, than the head of Sheba. This matron had not deserved the name of wise and faithful in Israel, if she had not both apprehended the justice ,ot the condition, and commended it to her citizens; whom she had
410
CONTEMPLATIONS.
easily persuaded to spare their own heads, in not sparing a traitor's. It had been pity those walls should have stood, if they had been too high to throw a traitor's head over.
Spiritually, the case is ours. Every man's breast is as a city in- closed. Every sin is a traitor, that lurks within those walls. God calls to us- for Sheba's head ; neither hath he any quarrel to our person, but for our sin. If we love the head of our traitor, above the life of our soul, we shall justly perish in the vengeance. We cannot be more willing to part with our sin, than our merciful God is to withdraw his judgments.
Now is Joab returned with success ; and hopes by Sheba's head, to pay the price of Amasa's blood. David hates the murder, enter- tains the man, defers the revenge. Joab had made himself so nrcaf, so necessary, that David may neither miss nor punish him. Policy led the king, to connive at that which his heart abhorred. I dare not commend that wisdom, which holds the hands of princes from doing justice. Great men have ever held it a point of worldly state, not always to pay, where they have been conscious to a debt, of either favour or punishment ; but to make time their servant for both. Solomon shall once defray the arrearages of his father. In the mean time, Joab commands and prospers ; and David is feign to smile on that face, whereon he hath in his secret destination written the characters of death. 2 Sam. .v.i\
THE GIBEONITES REVENGED.
The reign of David was most troublesome towards the shutting up ; wherein, both war and famine conspire to afflict him, Almost forty years, had he sat in the throne of Israel, with competency), if not abundance, of all things ; now at last, are his people visited with a long dearth.
We arc not at first sensible of common evils. Three years' drought and scarcity are gone over, ere David consults with God, concerning the occasion of the judgment : now he found it high time, to seek the face of the Lord. The continuance of an affliction sends us to God, and calls upon us to ask for a reckoning ; whereas, like men stricken in their sleep, a sudden blow cannot make us to find ourselves, but rather astonisheth than teacheth us.
David was himself a prophet of God ; yet had not the Lord all this while acquainted him with the grounds of his proceedings against Israel. This secret was hid from him, till he consulted with tne Urim : ordinary means shall reveal that to him, which no vi- sion had descried. And if God will have prophets to have recourse unto the priests for the notice of his will, how much more must the people ! Even those that are inwardest with God must have use of the ephod.
Justly it is presupposed by David, that there was never judg- ment from God, where hath not been a provocation from men ; therefore, when he sees the plague, he inquires for the sin. Never
THE GIBEONITES REVENGED. 411
man smarted causelessly from the hand of divine justice. Oh that when we suffer, we could ask what we have done, and could guide our repentance to the root of our evils !
That God, whose counsels are secret, even where his actions are open, will not be close to his prophet, to his priest. Without in- quiry, we shall know nothing ; upon inquiry, nothing shall be con- cealed from us, that is fit for us to know.
Who can choose but wonder, at once, both at David's slackness in consulting with God, and God's speed in answering so slow a de- mand ? He, that so well knew the way to God's oracle, suffers Is- rael to be three years pinched with famine, ere he asks why they suffer. Even the best hearts may be overtaken with dulness in holy duties ; but oh, the marvellous mercy of God, that takes not the advantage of our weaknesses !
David's question is not more slow, than his answer is speedy ; Jt is for Saul, and for his bloody house, because he slew the Gi- beonites, Israel was full of sins, besides those of Saul's house. Saul's house was full of sins, besides those of blood : much blood was shed by them, besides that of the Gibeonites; yet the justice of Gocl singles out this one sin of violence offered to the Gibeonites, contrary to the league made by Joshua some four hundred years before, for the occasion of this late vengeance. Where the causes of offence are infinite, it is just with God, to pitch upon some; it is merciful, not to punish for all.
Well near forty years are past, betwixt the commission of the sin, and the reckoning for it. It is a vain hope, that is raised from the delay of judgment. No time can be any prejudice to the An- tient of Days : when we have forgotten our sins, when the world hath forgotten us, he sues us afresh for our arrearages.
The slaughter of the Gibeonites was the sin, not of the present, but rather the former generation ; and now posterity pays for their forefathers. Even we men hold it not unjust, to sue the heirs and executors of our debtors. Eternal payments, God uses only to require of the person ; temporary, oft-times of succession.
As Saul was higher by the head and shoulders than the rest of Israel, both in stature and dignity, so were his sins more conspi- cuous than those of the vulgar. The eminence of the person makes the offence more remarkable, to the eyes both of God and men.
Neither Saul nor Israel were faultless in other kinds; yet God fixes the eye of his revenge upon the massacre of the Gibeonites. Every sin hath a tongue ; but that of blood over-cries and drowns the rest. He, who is mercy itself, abhors cruelty in his creature, above all other inonlinateness. That holy soul, which was heavy pressed with the weight of a heinous adultery, yet cries out, De- liver me from blood, 0 God, the. God of my salvation ; and my tongue shall joyfully sing of thy righteousness.
If God would take account of blood, he might have entered the action upon the blood of Uriah spilt by David ; or, if he would ra- ther insist in Saul's house, upon the blood of Abimelech the priest, and fourscore and live persons that did wear a linen ephod ; but it
415 CONTEMPLATIONS.
pleased the wisdom and justice of the Almighty, father to call for' the blood of the Gibeonites, though drudges of Israel, and a rem- nant of Amorites. Why this ? There was a perjury attending upon this slaughter. It was an antient oath, wherein the princes of the congregation had bound themselves, upon Joshua's league, to the Gibeonites, that they would suffer them to live ; an oath, extorted by fraud, but solemn by no less name than the Lord God of Israel; Saul will now thus late, either not acknowledge it, or not keep it : out of his zeal therefore to the children of Israel and Judah, he roots out some of the Gibeonites ; whether in a zeal of revenge of their first imposture, or in a zeal of enlarging the possessions of Israel, or in a zeal of executing God's charge upon the brood of Canaanitcs. He, that spared Agag whom he should have smitten, smites the Gibeonites whom he should have spared. Zeal and good intention is no excuse, much less a warrant, for evil. God holds it a high indignity, that his name should be sworn by, and violated. Length of time cannot dispense with our oaths, with our vows : the vows and oaths of others may bind us, how much more our own !
There was a famine in Israel. A natural man would have ascribed it unto the drought ; and that drought perhaps to some constella- tions. David knows to look higher; and sees a divine hand scourg, ing Israel for some great offence, and over-ruling those second causes to his most just executions. Even the most quick-sighted worldling is purblind to spiritual objects, and the weakest eves of the regenerate pierce the heavens, and espy God in all earthly occurrences.
So well was David acquainted with God's proceedings, that he knew the removal of the judgment must begin at the satisfaction of the wronged. At once therefore, doth he pray unto God. and treat with the Gibeonites; What shall I do for you, anclxshere^ith shall I make the atonement, that ye may bless the inheritance of the Lord If In vain should David, though a prophet, bless Israel, if the Gibeonites did not bless them: injuries done us on earth give us power in heaven : the oppressor is in no man's mercy, but his whom he hath trampled upon.
Little did the Gibeonites think, that God had so taken to heart their Wron&s, that for their sakes all Israel should suffer. Even when we think not of it, is the righteous Judge avenging our uiu righteous vexations. Our hard measures cannot be hid from him ; his returns are hid from us. It is sufficient for us, that God can be no more negiective, than ignorant, of our sufferings.
It is now in the power of these despised Hivitcs, to make their own terms with Israel : neither silver, nor gold will savour" with diem, toward their satisfaction: nothing can expiate the blood of their fathers, but the blood of seven sons of their deceased perse- cutor : here was no other than a just retaliation : Saul had punish- ed in them the offence of their predecessors ; they will now re- venge Saul's sin in his children : the measure we mete unto others, is, with much equity, remeasured unto ourselves ; every death
THE GTBEOfJITES REVENGED.- 41 3
Would not content them of Saul's sons, but a cursed and ignomi- nious ; hanging on the tree : neither would that death content them, unless their own hands might be the executioners; neither would any place serve for the execution, but Gibeah, the court of Saul : neither would they do any of this, for the wreaking of their own fury, but for the appeasing of God's wrath ; JVc will hang than up unto I he Lord in Gibeah of Saul.
David might not refuse the condition : he must deliver ; they must execute. He chooses out seven of the sons and grand-chil- dren of Saul. That house had raised long an unjust persecution against David : now God pays it upon another score.
David's love and oath to Jonathan preserves lame Mephibojhcth : how much more shall the Father of all Mercies do good unto the children of the faithful, for the covenant made with their parents !
The five sons of Adriel, the Meholathite, David's antient rival in his first love, which were home to him by Merab, Saul's daughter, and brought up by her barren sister Michal, the wife of David, are yielded up to death. Merab, was, after a promise of marriage to David, unjustly given away by Saul to Adriel. Michal seems to abet the match, in breeding the children : now, in one act, not of David's seeking, the wrong is thus late avenged upon Saul, Adriel, Merab, Michal, the children. It is a dangerous matter to offer in- jury to any of God's faithful ones. If their meekness have easily remitted it, their God will not pass it over without a severe retri- bution.
These five, together with two sons of Rizpah, Saul's concubine, are hanged up at once before the Lord, yea and before the eyes of the world. No place but a hill will serve for this execution. The acts of justice, as they are intended for example, so they should be done in that eminent fashion, that may make them both most in- structive and most terrifying. Unwarrantable courses of private revenge seek to hide their heads in secresy : the beautiful face of justice both affects the light and becomes it.
It was the general charge of God's law, that.no corpse should re- main all night upon the gibbet. The Almighty hath power to dis- pense with his own command; so, doubtless, he did in this extraor- dinary case. These carcasses did not defile but expiate.
Sorrowful Rizpah spreads her tent of sackcloth upon the rock, for a sad attendance upon those sons of her womb : death plight bereave her of then), not them of her love. This spectacle was not more grievous to her, than pleasing to God, and happy to Israel. Now the clouds drop fatness, and the earth runs forth into plenty. The Gibeonitcs are satisfied, God reconciled, Israel relieved.
How blessed a thing is it for any nation, that justice is impar- tially executed, even upon the mighty ! A few drops ot blood have procured large showers from heaven. A few carcasses are a rich compost to the earth. The drought and dearth remove away, w ith the breath of those pledges of the ©Sender. Judgment cannot tyrannize, where justice reigns : as, contrariiy, there can be no j)eace, where blood cries unheard, unregarded. l: Sain, sxi.
414
CONTEMPLATIONS.
THE NUMBERING OF THE PEOPLE. Israel was grown wanton and mutinous. God pulls them down : first, by the sword ; then, by famine ; now, by pestilence.
Oh the wondrous, and yet just ways of the Almighty ! Because Israel hath sinned, therefore David shall sin, that Israel may be pu- nished ; because God is angry with Israel, therefore David shall anger him more, and strike himself in Israel, and Israel through himself.
The Spirit of God elsewhere ascribes this motion to Satan, which here it attributes to God. Both had their hand in the work ; God by permission, Satan by suggestion ; God as a judge, Satan as an enemy ; God as in a just punishment for sin, Satan as in an act of sin ; God in a wise ordination of it to good, Satan in a malicious in- tent of confusion. Thus at once, God moved, and Satan moved: neither is it any excuse to Satan or David, that God moved ; nei- ther is it any blemish to God, that Satan moved.
The ruler's sin is a punishment to a wicked people. Though they had many sins of their own, whereon God might have grounded a judgment, yet, as before he had punished them with dearth for Saul's sin, so now he will not punish them with plague but for David's sin. If God were not angry with a people, he would not give up their governors to such evils, as whereby he is provoked to vengeance ; and if their governors be thus given up, the people cannot be safe. The body drowns not, while the head is above the water ; when that once sinks, death is near : justly therefore are we charged to make prayers and supplications, as for all, so espe- cially for those that are in eminent authority. When we pray for ourselves, we pray not always for them ; but we cannot pray for them, and not pray for ourselves : the public weal is not comprised in the private, but the private in the public.
What then was David's sin ? He will needs have Israel and Judah numbered : surely there is no malignity in numbers ; neither is it unfit for a prince to know his own strength : this is not the first time, that Israel had gone under a reckoning. The act ofi'ends not, but the misaffection : the same thing had been commendably done out of a princely providence, which now, through the curiosity, pride, mis-confidence of the doer, proves heinously vicious : those actions, which are in themselves indifferent, receive either their life or their bane from the intentions of the agent. Moses numbcreth the people with thanks ; David, with displeasure. Those sins, which carry the smoothest foreheads and have the most honest ap- pearances, may more provoke the wrath of God, than those that bear the most abomination in their faces. How many thousand wickednesses passed through the hands of Israel, which we men would rather have branded out for judgment, than this of David's ! The righteous Judge of the world censures sins, not by their dl Jooks, but by their foul hearts.
Who can but wonder to see Joab the saint, and David the tres- passer ; \o prophet cculd speak better than that man of blood ;
the numbering of the people. 415
The Lord thy God increase the people a hundred fold more than they be, and that the eyes of my lord the king may see it ; but wliv doth my lord the king desire this thing ? There is no man so lewd, as not to be sometimes in good moods, as not to dislike some evil ; contrarily, no man on earth can be so holy as not sometimes to overlash. It were pity, that either Joab or David should be tried by every act. How commonly have we seen those men ready- to give good advice to others for the avoiding of some sins, who, in more gross outrages, have not had grace to counsel their own hearts ! The same man, that had deserved death from David for his treacherous cruelty > dissuades David from an act that earned but a suspicion of evil. It is not so much to be regarded, who it is that admonisheth us, as what he brings: good counsel is never the worse, for the foul carriage. There are some dishes, that we may eat even from sluttish hands.
The purpose of sin, in a faithful man, is odious; much more the resolution^ Notwithstanding Joab's discreet admonition, David will hold on his course ; and will know the number of the people, only that he may know it,
Joab and the captains address themselves to the work. In things which are not in themselves evil, it is not for subjects to dispute, but to obey. That, which authority may sin in commanding, is done of the inferior, not with safety only, but with praise.
Nine months and twenty days, is this general muster in hand : at last, the number is brought in. Israel is found eight hundred thou- sand strong ; Judah, five hundred thousand. The ordinary com- panies, which served by course for the royal guard (four and twenty thousand each month) needed not to be reckoned. The addition of them, with their several captains, raises the sum of Is- rael to the rate of eleven hundred thousand : a power, able to puff up a carnal heart ; but how can a heart, that is more than flesh, trust to an arm of flesh ? O holy David, whither hath a glorious vanity transported thee ? Thou, which once didst sing so sweetly, Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, for there is no help in him. His breath departeth, and he returneth to his earth ; then his thoughts perish. Blessed is he, that hath the God of' Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God ; how canst thou now stoop, to so unsafe and unworthy a confidence !
As some stomachful horse, that will not be stopt in his career with the sharpest bit, but runs on headily till he come to some wall or ditch, and there stands still and trembles; so did David. All the dissuasions of Joab could not restrain him from his intended course. Almost ten months, doth he run on impetuously, in a way of his own, rough and dangerous : at last, his heart smites him ; the con- science of his offence, and the fear of judgment, hath fetched him upon his knees ; O Ljord, J have sinned exceedingly in that 1 have done; therefore now, L^ord, 1 beseech thee take away the trespass of thy servant, for L have done very foolishly. It is possible for a sin, not to bait only, but to sojourn, in the holiest soul; but though it sojourn there as a stranger, it shall not dwell there as an
416
CONTEMPLATIONS.
ow ner. The renewed heart, after some rovings of error, will oner, ere overlong, return home to itself ; and fall out with that ill guide, wherewith it was misled, and with itself for being misled; and now it is resolved into tears, and breathes forth nothing but siahs, and confessions, and deprecations.
Here needed no Nathan, by a parabolical circumlocution to fetch in David to a sight and acknowledgment of his sin. The heart of the penitent supplied the prophet. No other tongue could smite him so deep, as his own thoughts. But though his reins chastised him in the night, yet his seer scourges him in the morning ; Thus saith the Lord, 1 offer thee three things, choose thee which of them I shall do unto thee. But what shall we say to this? When, upon the prophet's reproof for. an adultery cloked with murder, David did but say, I have sinned, it was presently returned, God hath put away thy sin; neither did any smart fol- low, but the death of a misbegotten infant : and now, when he vo- luntarily reproveth himself for but a needless muster, and sought for pardon unbidden with great humiliation, God sends him the three terrible scourges, famine, sword, or pestilence, that he may cboose with which of them he would rather to bleed. He shall have the favour of an election, not of a remission. God is more angered with a spiritual and immediate affront offered to his ma- jesty, in our pride, and false confidence in earthly things, than with a flesiily crime, though heinously seconded.
It was a hard and woeful choice of three years' famine added to three forepast; or of three months' flight from the sword of an enemy ; or three days' pestilence. The Almighty, that hath fore- determined his judgment, refers it to David's will, as fully, as if it were utterly undetermined. God had resolved ; yet David may choose. That infinite wisdom hath foreseen the very will of his creature, which, while it freely inclines itself to what it would ra- ther, unwittingly wills that which was fore-appointed in heaven.
We do well believe thee, O David, that thou wert in a wonder- ful strait. This very liberty is no other than fetters. Thou needst not have famine ; thou needst not have the sw ord ; thou needst not have pestilence . one of them thou must have : there is misery in all ; there is misery in any. Thou and thy people can die but once ; and once they must die, either by famine, war, or pestilence. O God, how vainly do we hope to pass over our sins with impunity, when all the favour that David and Israel can receive is, to choose their bane !
Yet, behold, neither sins, nor threats, nor fears can bereave a true penitent of his faith ; Let us now fall into the hands of the Lord, for his mercies are great. There can be no evil of punish- ment, wherein God hath not a hand : there could be no famine, no sword, without him : but some evils are more immediate from a divine stroke ; such was that plague, into which David is unwil- lingly willing to fall. He hud his choice of days, months, years, in the same number ; and, though the shortness of time prefixed to the threatened pestilence might seem to offer some advantage for
THE NUMBERING OF THE PEOPLE.
417
the leading of his election, yet God meant, and David knew it, herein to proportion the difference of time to the violence of the plague ; neither should any fewer perish, by so few days' pesti- lence, than by so many years' famine : the wealthiest might avoid the dearth ; the swiftest might run away from the sword ; no man could promise himself safety from that pestilence. In likelihood, God's angel would rather strike the most guilty ; however, there- fore, Davnl might well look to be enwrapped in the common de- struction, yet he rather chooseth to fall into that mercy which he had abused, and to suffer from that justice which he had pro- voked ; fat us now fall into the hands of the Lord.
Humble confessions and devout penance cannot always avert temporal judgments. God's angel is abroad ; and, within that short compass of time, sweeps away seventy thousand Israelites. David was proud of the number of his subjects : now they are abated, that he may see cause of humiliation in the matter of his glory : in what we have offended, we commonly smart.
These thousands of Israel were not so innocent, that they should only perish for David's sin : their sins were the motives, both of this sin and punishment : besides the respect of David's offence, they die for themselves.
It was no ordinary pestilence, that was thus suddenly and uni- versally mortal. Common eyes saw the botch and the marks; saw not the angel : David's clearer sight hath espied him, after that killing peragration through the tribes of Israel, shaking his sword over Jerusalem, and hovering over Mount Sion ; and now he, who doubtless had spent those three dismal days in the saddest contri- tion, humbly casts himself down at the feet of the avenger, and lays himself ready for the fatal stroke of justice.
It was more terror, that God intended, in the visible shape of his angel, and deeper humiliation; and what he meant, he wrought. Never soul could be more dejected, more anguished, with the sense of a judgment; in the bitterness whereof he cries out, Behold, I have sinned, yea, I have done wickedly ; but these sheep, what have they done f Let thine hand, L pray thee, be against me, and against my father s house. The better any man is, the more sensible he is of his own wretchedness. Many of those sheep were wolves to David. What had they done? They had done that, which was the occasion of David's sin, and the cause of their own punish? mcnt : but that gracious penitent knew his own sin ; he knew not theirs: and therefore can say, / have sinned; What have they done ? It is safe accusing, where we may be boldest, and are be5t acquainted, ourselves.
Oh the admirable charity of David, that would have engrossed the plague to himself and his house, from the rest of Israel ; and sues to interpose himself, betwixt his people and the vengeance ! He, that had put himself upon the paws of the bear and lion for the rescue of his sheep, will now cast himself upon the sword of the angel, for the preservation of Israel : there was hope in those con-
VOL. I. EE
4 IS
CONTEMPLATIONS.
flicts ; in this yieldance, there could be nothing but death. Thus didst thou, O son of David, the true and great shepherd of thy Church, offer thyself to death for them who had their hands in thy blood, who both procured thy death and deserved their own. Here, he offered himself that had sinned, for those whom he pro- fessed to have not done evil ; thou, that didst no sin, vouchsafedst to offer thyself, for us that were all sin: he offered and escaped, thou offeredst and diedst ; and hy thy death we live, and are freed from everlasting destruction.
But, O Father of all mercies, how little pleasure dost thou take in the blood of sinners ! It was thine own pity, that inhibited the destroyer. Ere David could see the angel, thou hadst restrained him ; It is sufficient, hold now thy hand. If thy compassion did not both withhold and abridge thy judgments, what place were there for us out of hell ?
How easy and just had it been for God, to have made the shutting up of that third evening red with blood ! His goodness repents of the slaughter ; and calls for that sacrifice, wherewith he will be appeased.
An altar must be built in the threshing-floor of Araunah the Je- busite. Lo, in that very hill, where the angel held the sword of Abraham from killing his son, doth God now hold the sword of the angel from killing his people. Upon this very ground, shall the temple after stand. Here shall be the holy altar, which shall send up the acceptable oblations of God's people, in succeeding generations.
O God, what was the thrashing-floor of a Jebusite to thee, above all other soils ? What virtue, what merit was in this earth ? As in places, so in persons, it is not to be heeded, what they are, but what thou wilt. That is worthiest, which thou pleasest to accept.
Rich and bountiful Araunah is ready to meet David, in so holy a motion ; and munificently offers his Sion for the place, his oxen for the sacrifice, his carts and ploughs and other utensils of his husbandry for the wood : two frank hearts are well met : David would buy ; Araunah would give. The Jebusite wrould not sell ; David will not take. Since it was for God, and to David, Araunah is loth to bargain : since it was for God, David wisheth to pay dear ; / will not offer burnt-offerings to the Lord my God, of ihut which doth cost me nothing. Heroical spirits do well become emi- nent persons. He, that knew it was better to give than to receive, would not receive but give. There can be no devotion in a nig- gardly heart : as unto dainty palates, so to the godly soul, that tastes sweetest, that costs most : nothing is dear enough for the Creator of all things. It is a heartless piety of those base-minded Christians, that care only to serve God good cheap.
2 Sam. xxiv. i Chron. xxi.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XVII.
TO MY WORTHILY MUCH HONOURED FRIEND,
SIR HENRY MILDMAY, KNIGHT,
MASTER OF THE JEWEL-HOUSE, ALL GRACE AND PEACE.
SIR,
Besides all private obligations, your very name challengeth from vie all due services of love and honour. If I have received mercy to bear any fruit, next under heaven, I may thank the stock wherein I was imped ; which was set by no other, than the happy hand of your Right Honourable Grandfather. How have I so long forborne the public testimony of my just gratulatiuns and thankful respects, to so true an heir of his noble virtues ! Pardon me, that I pay this debt so late ; and accept of this parcel of my well-meant labours : wherein you shall see, Solomon both in his rising and set- ting : his rising, hopeful and glorious; his declination, fearful. You shall see the proofs of his early graces : of mercy, in sparing Adonijah and Abiathar ; of justice, in punishing that rival of his, with Joab and Shimci ; of wisdom, in his award betwixt the two harlots, and the administration of his court and state ; of piety, in building and hallowing the temple ; all dashed in his fall ; re- paired in his repentance. I have no cause to misdoubt, either the acceptation or use of these my high-pitched thoughts ; which, toge- ther with yourself , and your worthy and virtuous Lady, I humbly commend to the care and blessing of the Highest ; who am bound, by your worth and merits, to be ever,
Yours sincerely and thankfully
devoted in all observance,
JOSEPH HALL.
ADONIJAH DEFEATED.
David had not so carefully husbanded his years, as to maintain a vigorous age ; he was therefore, what through wars, what with sorrows, what with sickness, decrepit betimes : by that time hs was seventy years old, his natural heat was so wasted, that his clothes could uot warm him. How many have we known, of more
420 CONTEMPLATIONS.
strength at more age ! The holiest soul dwells not in an impreg- nable fort. If the revenging angel spared David, yet age and death will not spare him. Neither his new altar, nor his costly sacrifice, can be of force against decay of nature. Nothing but death can prevent the weaknesses of age.
None can blaine a people, if, when they have a good king, they are desirous to hold him. David's servants and subjects have com- mended unto his bed a fair young virgin ; not for the heat of lust, but of life ; that by this means they might make an outward sup- ply of fuel, for that vital fire, which was well-near extinguished with age.
As it is in the market or the stage, so it is in our life ; one goes in, another comes out. When David was withering, Adonijah was in his blossom.
That son, as he was next to Absalom both in the beauty of his body and the time of his birth, so was he too like him in practice, lie also, taking advantage of his father's infirmity, will be carving himself of the kingdom of Israel. That he might no whit vary from his pattern, he gets him also chariots and horsemen, and fifty men to run before him.
These two, Absalom and Adonijah, were the darlings of their father. Their father had not displeased them from their child- hood ; therefore they both displeased him in his age. Those chil- dren had need to be very gracious, that are not marred with pam- pering. It is more than God owes us, if we receive comfort in those children, whom we have over-loved. The indulgence of pa- rents at last pays them home in crosses.
It is true, that Adonijah was David's eldest son nosv remaining, and therefore might seem to challenge the justest title to the crown ; but the kingdom of Israel, in so late an erection, had not yet known the right of succession. God himself, that had ordained the go- vernment, was as yet the immediate elector : he fetched Saul from among the stuff, and David from the sheepfold ; and had now ap- pointed Solomon, from the ferule to the sceptre. And if Adonijah (which is unlike) had not known this, yet it had been his part, to have taken his father with him,, in this claim of his succession ; and not so to prevent a brother, that he should shoulder out a fa- ther ; and not so violently to pre-occupy the throne, that he should rather be a rebel than an heir.
As Absalom, so Adonijah, wants not furtherers, in this usurpa- tion, whether spiritual or temporal : Joab the general and Abiathar the priest give both counsel and aid, to so unseasonable a chal- lenge. These two had been firm to David, in all his troubles, in all insurrections ; yet now, finding him fastened to the bed of age and death, they shew themselves thus slippery in the loose. Out- ward happiness and friendship arc not known till our last act : in the impotency of either our revenge or recompence, it will easily appear, who loved us lor ourselves, who for their own ends.
Had not Adonijah known, that Solomon was designed to the kingdom, both by God and David, he had never incited all the
ADONIJAH DEFEATED. 421
rest of the kind's sons, his brethren, and left out Solomon ; who was otherwise the most unlikely, to have been his rival in his honour : all the rest were elder than he ; and might therefore have had more pretence for their competition. Doubtless, the court of Israel could not but know, that, immediately upon the birth of Solomon, God sent him, by Nathan the prophet, a name and mes- sage of love ; neither was it for nothing, that God called him Je- didiah ; and fore-promised him the honour of building a house to his name; and, in return of so glorious a service, the establish- ment of the throne of his kingdom over Israel for ever : notwith- standing all which, Adonijah, backed by the strength of a Joab, and the gravity of an Abiathar, will underwork Solomon, and justle into the not-yet-^vacant seat of his father David. Vain men, while, like proud and yet brittle clay, they will be knocking their sides against the solid and eternal decree of God, break themselves in pieces.
1 do not find that Adonijah sent any message of threats or un- kindness to Zadok the priest, or Nathan the prophet, or Benaiah the son of Jehoiada, and the other worthies : only he invited them not to his feast, with the king's sons and servants. Sometimes a X'ery omission is an affront and a menace. They well knew, that, since they were not called as guests, they were counted as ene- mies. Ceremonies of courtesy, though they be in themselves slight and arbitrary, yet the neglect of them, in some cases, may undergo a dangerous construction.
Nathan was the man, by whom God had sent that errand of grace to David, concerning Solomon, assuring him both to reigu and prosper ; yet now, when Adonijah's plot was thus on foot, he doth not sit still and depend upon the issue of God's decree, but he bestirs him in the business, and consults with Bathsheba, how at once to save their lives, and to advance Solomon, and defeat Adonijah. God's pre-determination includes the means as well as the end. The same providence, that had ordained a crown to Solomon, a repulse to Adonijah, preservation to Bathsheba and Nathan, had fore-appointed the wise and industrious endeavours of the prophet, to bring about his just and holy purposes: if we would not have God wanting to us, we must not be wanting to ourselves : even when we know what God hath meant to us, we may not be negligent.
The prophets of God did not look for revelation, in all their affairs : in some things, they were left to the counsel of their own hearts. The policy of Nathan was of use, as well as his pro- phecy : that alone hath turned the stream into the right channel. Nothing could be more wisely contrived, than the sending in of Bathsheba to David, with so seasonable and forcible an expostula- tion ; and the seconding of hers, with his own.
Though lust were dead in David, yet the respects of his old matrimonial love lived still : the very presence of Bathsheba pleaded strongly ; but her speech more. The time was, when his affection ostoiided in excess towards her, being then another's ; he cannot now
422
CONTEMPLATIONS.
neglect her, being his own : and if either his age or the remorse of his old offence should have set him off, yet she knew his oath was sure ; My lord, thou swarest by the Lord thy God unto thine handmaid, saying, Assuredly, Solomon, thy son, shall reign after me, and he shall sit upon my throne. His word had been firm, but his oath was inviolable : we are engaged, if we have promised ; but if we have sworn, we are bound. Neither heaven nor earth have any gyves for that man, that can shake off the fetters of an oath ; for he cares not for that God, whom he dares invoke to a falsehood : and he, that cares not for God, will not care for man.
Ere Bathsheba can be over the threshold, Nathan (upon com- pact) is knocking at the door. God's prophet was never but wel- come, to the bed-chamber of King David. In a seeming strange- ness, he falls upon the same suit, upon the same complaint, with Bathsheba. Honest policies do not misbecome the holiest prophets. She might seem to speak as a woman, as a mother, out of passion ; the word of a prophet could not be misdoubted : he therefore, that had formerly brought to David that chiding and bloody mes- sage concerning Bathsheba, comes now to David to sue for the life and honour of Bathsheba ; and he, that was sent from God to Da- vid, to bring the news of a gracious promise of favour unto Solo- mon, comes now to challenge the execution of it from the hands of a father ; and he, whose place freed him from suspicion of a faction, complains of the insolent demeanour and proclamation of Adonijah ; what he began with a humble obeisance, shutting up in a lowly and loving expostulation ; Is this thing done by my lord the king, and thou hast not shewed thy servant who should sit on the throne of my lord the king after him ? As Nathan was of jGod's counsel, unto David ; so was he of David's counsel, both to God and the state : as God therefore, upon all occasions, told Na- than what he meant to do with David ; so had David wont, to tell Nathan what he meant to do, in his holy and most important civil affairs. There are cases, wherein ft is not unfit for God's prophets to meddle with matters of state. It is no disparagement to reli- gious princes, to impart their counsels unto them, who can requite them with the counsels of God.
That wood, which a single iron could not rive, is soon splitted with a double wedge. The seasonable importunity of Bathsheba and Nathan, thus seconding each other, hath so wrought upon David, that now his love to Adonijah gives place to indignation ; nature, to a holy fidelity : and now he renews his ancient oath to Bathsheba, with a passionate solemnity ; As the Lord liveth, who hath redeemed my soul out of all adversity, even as I sware unto thee by the Lord God of Israel, saying, Assuredly, Solomon, thy son, shall reign after me, and he shall sit upon my throne in my stead, so will I certainly do this day.
In the decay of David's body, I find not his intellective powers any whit impaired: as one therefore, that, from his bed, could w-ith a perfect (if weak) hand, steer the government of Israel, he gives wise and full directions, for the inauguration of Solomon .
david's end, and Solomon's beginning. 423
Zadok the priest, and Nathan the prophet, and Benaiah the cap- tain, receive his grave and princely charge, for the carriage of that so weighty a business. They are commanded to take with them the royal guard, to set Solomon upon his father's mule, to carry him down in state to Gihon, to anoint him with the holy oil of the tabernacle, to sound the trumpets and proclaim him in the streets, to bring him back with triumph and magnificence to the court, and to set him in the royal throne with all the due ceremo- nies of coronation.
How pleasing was this command to them, who, in Solomon's glory, saw their own safety ! Benaiah applauds it ; and, not fear- ing a father's envy, in David's presence wisheth Solomon's throne exalted above his. The people are ravished, with the joy of so hopeful a succession; and break the earth, and fill the heaven, with the noise of their music and shouting.
Solomon's guests had now, at last, better cheer than Adonijah's ; whose feast (as all wicked men's) ended in horror. No sooner are their bellies full of meat, than their ears are full of the sound of those trumpets, which at once proclaim Solomon's triumph and their confusion. Ever after the meal is ended, comes the reckon ing. God could as easily have prevented this jollity, as marred it ; but he willingly suffers vain men to please themselves for a time, in the conceited success of their own projects, that afterwards their disappointment may be so much the more grievous. No doubt, at this feast there was man}' a health drunken to Adonijah, many a confident boast of their prosperous design, many a scorn of the despised faction of Solomon ; and now, for their last dish, is served up astonishment, and fearful expectation of a just re- venge. Jonathan, the son of Abiathar the priest, brings the new s of Solomon's solemn and joyful enthronization : now all hearts are. cold, all faces pale ; and every man hath but life enough to run away. How suddenly is this braving troop dispersed ! Adonijah, their new prince, flies to the horns of the altar ; as distrusting all hopes of life, save the sanctity of the place, and the mercy of his rival.
So doth the wise and just God befool proud and insolent sinners, in those secret plots, wherein they hope to undermine the true son of David, the Prince of Peace. He suffers them to lay their heads together, and to feast themselves in a jocund security and promise of success ; at last, when they are at the height of their joys and hopes, he confounds all their devices, and lays them open to the scorn of the world, and to the anguish of their own guilty hearts.
1 Kings i.
DAVID'S END, AND SOLOMON'S BEGINNING.
It well became Solomon, to begin his reign in peace. Adonijah receives pardon, upon his good behaviour ; and finds the throne of Solomon, as safe as the altar.
424
CONTEMPLATIONS.
David lives to see a wise son warm in his seat ; and now, he, that had yielded to succession, yields to nature.
Many good counsels had David given his heir ; now he sums them up in his end. Dying words are wont to be weightiest : the soul, when it is entering into glory, breathes nothing but divine.
I go the way of all the earth. How well is that princely heart content, to subscribe to the conditions of human mortality ; as one that knew sovereignty doth not reach to the affairs of nature ! Though a king, he neither expects nor desires an immunity from dissolution ; making no account to go in any other than the com- mon track, to the universal home of mankind, the house of age. Whither should earth, but to earth ? And why should we grudge to do that, which all do ?
Be thou strong, therefore ; and shew thijself a man. Even when his spirit was going out, he puts spirit into his son : age puts life into youth, and the dying animates the vigorous. He had well found, that strength was requisite to government ; that he had need to be no less than a man, that should rule over men. If great- ness should never receive any opposition, yet those worlds of cares and businesses, that attend the chair of state, are able to overlay any mean powers. A weak man may obey ; none but the strong can govern.
Graceless courage were but the whetstone of tj'ranny ; Take heed, therefore, to the charge of the Lord thy God, to walk in his •ways, and to keep his statutes. The best legacy that David be- queaths to his heir, is, the care of piety. Himself had found the sweetness of a good conscience, and now he commends it to his successor. If there be an}' thing, that, in our desires of the pro- sperous condition of our children, takes place of goodness, our hearts are not upright. Here was the father of a king, charging the king his son, to keep the statutes of the King of Kings ; as one, that knew greatness could neither exempt from obedience, nor privilege sin ; as one, that knew the least deviation in the greatest and highest orb, is both most sensible and most dan- gerous. Neither would he have his son, to look for any prosperity, save only from well-doing : that happiness is built upon sand or ice, which is raised upon any foundation besides virtue. If Solo- mon were wise, David was good ; and if old Solomon had well remembered the counsel of old David, he had not so foully mis- carried.
After the precepts of piety, follow those of justice ; distribut- ing in a due recompence, as revenge to Joab and Shimei, so favour to the house of Barzillai.
The bloodiness of Joab had lain long upon David's heart. The hideous noise of those treacherous murders, as it had pierced hea- ven, so it still filled the ears of David. He could abhor the vil- lainy, though he could not revenge it. What he cannot pay, he will owe; and approve himself at last a faithful debtor: now he will defray it by the hand of Solomon. The slaughter was of Ab~ ner and Amasa : David appropriates it ; Thou knowest what Joab
david's end, and Solomon's beginning. 425
did to me. The sovereign is smitten in the subject : neither is it other than just, that the arraignment of mean malefactors runs in the style, of wrong to the king's crown and dignity. How much more dost thou, O Son of David, take to thyself those insolencies, which are done to thy poorest subjects, servants, sons, members here upon earth ! No Saul can touch a Christian here below, but thou feelest it in heaven, and complainest.
But what shall we think of this ? David was a man of war, So- lomon a king of peace ; yet David refers this revenge to Solomon. How just it was, that he, who shed the blood of war in peace, and put the blood of war upon his girdle that was about his loins, should have his blood shed in peace, by a prince of peace ! Peace is fittest to rectify the outrages of war. Or, whether is not this done, in type of that divine administration, wherein thou, O, Fa- ther of Heaven, hast committed all judgment unto thine eternal Son ? Thou, who couldst immediately either plague or absolve sin- ners, wilt do neither but by the hand of a Mediator.
Solomon learned betimes, what his ripeness taught afterwards ; Take away the wicked from the king, and his throne shall be esta- blished hi righteousness. Cruel Joab, and malicious Shimei, must be therefore, upon the first opportunity, removed. The one lay open to present justice, for abetting the conspiracy of Adonijah, neither needs the help of time for a new advantage ; the other went under the protection of an oath from David, and therefore must be fetched in upon a new challenge. The hoary head of both must be brought to the grave with blood, else David's head could not be brought to his grave in peace. Due punishment of malefactors is the debt of authority. If that holy king have run into arrearages, yet, as one that hates and fears to break the bank, he gives orders to his paymaster : it shall be defrayed ; if not by him, yet for him.
Generous natures cannot be unthankful : Barzillai had shewed David some kindness, in his extremity; and now the good man will have posterity to inherit the thanks. How much more bounti- ful is the Father of Mercies, in the remuneration of our poor un- worthy services ! Even successions of generations shall fare the better, for one good parent.
The dying words and thoughts of the man after God's own heart, did not confine themselves to the straits of these particular charges, but enlarged themselves to the care of God's public ser- vice. As good men are best at last, David did never so busily and carefully marshal the affairs of God, as when he was fixed to the bed of his age and death. Then did he load his son Solomon, with the charge of building the house of God. Then did he lay before the eyes of his son the model and pattern of that whole sacred work, whereof, if Solomon bare the name, yet David no less merits it. He now gives the platform of the courts and buildings. He gives the gold and silver for that holy use; a hun- dred thousand udents of gold, a thousand talents of silver ; besides brass and iron passing weight. He weighs out those precious me-
4-26
CONTEMPLATIONS.
tals, for their several designments. Every future vessel is laid out already in his poise, if not in his form. He excites the princes of Israel to their assistance, in so high a work : he takes notice of their bountiful offerings. He numbers up the Levites for the public services, and sets them their tasks. He appoints the singers and other musicians to their stations ; the porters to the gates, that should be. And now, wbeu he hath set all things in a desired order and forwardness, he shuts up with a zealous blessing of his Solo- mon and his people, and sleeps with his fathers. O blessed soul, how quiet a possession bast thou now taken, after so many tumults, of a better crown ! Thou, that hast prepared all things for the house of thy God, how happily art thou now welcomed to that house of bis, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens ! Who now shall envy unto good princes, the honour of overseeing the businesses of God and his Church ; when David was thus punctual in these divine provisions ? What fear can be of usurpation, where they have so glorious a precedent ?
Now is Solomon the second time crowned king of Israel ; and now, in his own right, as formerly in his father's, sits peaceably upon the throne of the Lord. His awe and power come on faster than, his years.
Envy and ambition, where it is once kindled, may sooner be hid in the ashes, than quite put out. Adonijah yet hangs after his old hopes : he remembers how sweet he found the name of a king ; and now hath laid a new plot, for the setting up of his cracked title. He would make the bed a step to the throne : his old complies are sure enough : his part would gather much strength, if he might en- joy Abishag, the relict of his father, to wife. If it were not the Jewish fashion, as is pretended, that a king's widow should marry none but a king ; yet certainly the power, both of the alliance and friendship of a queen, must needs not a little advance his purpose. The crafty rival dare not, either move the suit to Solomon, or ef- fect the marriage without him; but would cunningly undermine the son, by the suit of that mother, whose suit had undermined him. The weaker vessels are commonly used, in the most danger- ous suggestions of evil.
Batbsheba was so wise a woman, that some of her counsels are canonized for divine ; yet she saw not the depth of this drift of Adonijah ; therefore she both entertains the suit, and moves it. But, whatever were the intent of the suitor, could she choose but see the unlawfulness of so incestuous a match r It is not long, since she saw her late husband David abominating the bed of those his concubines, that had been touched by his son Absalom ; and can she hold it lawful, that his son Adonijah should climb up to the bed of his father's wife ? Sometimes, even the best eyes are dim, and discern not those tilings which are obvious to weaker sights. Or, whether did not Bathsheba well see the foulness of the suit, and yet in compassion of Adonijah's late repulse, wherein she was the chief agent, and in a desire to make him amends for the loss of the kingdom, she yields even thus to gratify him r It is an inju-
david's end, and Solomon's beginning. 427 rious weakness, to be drawn upon by any by-respects, to the fur- therance of faulty suits, of unlawful actions.
No sooner doth Bathsheba come in place, than Solomon her son rises from his chair of state, and meets her, and bows to her, and sets her on his right hand ; as not so remembering himself to be a king, that he should forget he was a son. No outward dignity can take away the rights and obligations of nature. Had Bathsheba been as mean as Solomon was mighty, she had carried away this honour from a gracious son.
Yet for all these due compliments, Bathsheba goes away with a denial. Reverence she shall have, she shall not have a compliance. In the acts of magistracy, all regards of natural relations must give way. That, which she propounded as a small request, is now, after a general and confused engagement, rejected as unreasonable. It were pity we should be heard in all our suits. Bathsheba makes a petition against herself, ami knows it not: her safety and life de- pend upon Solomon's reign; yet she unwittingly moves for the ad- vancement of Adonijah. Solomon was too dutiful to check his mother, and too wise to yield to her : in unfit supplications, we are most heard when we are most repelled. Thus doth our God many times answer our prayers, with merciful denials ; and most blesseth us, in crossing our desires.
Wise Solomon doth not find himself perplexed, with the scruple of his promise. He, that had said, Ask on, for I will not saj/ thee nay, can now say, God do so to me and more also, if Adoni- jah have not spoken this word against his own life. His promise was according to his supposition ; his supposition was of no other than of a suit, honest, reasonable, expedient; now, he holds him- self free from that grant, wherein there was at once both sin and danger. No man can be entangled with general words, against his own just and honest intentions.
The policies of wicked men befool them at last: This interces- sion hath undone Adonijah ; and, instead of the throne, hastens his grave. The sword of Benaiah puts an end to that dangerous ri- valry.
Joab and Abiathar still held champerty with Adonijah. Their hand was both in the claim of his kingdom, and in the suit of Abi- shag. There are crimes, wherein there are no accessaries ; such is this of treason.
Abiathar may thank his burden, that he lives : had he not borne the ark of the Lord before David, he had not now carried his head upon his shoulders : had he not been afflicted with David, lie had pe- rished with Adonijah : now, though he were, in his own merit, a man of death, yet he shall survive his partners ; Get thee to Ana- thoth, unto thine own fields. The priesthood of Abiathar, as it ag- gravated his crime, so it shall preserve 3iis life. Sucli honour have good princes given to the ministers of the sanctuary, that their very coat hath been defence enough against the sword of justice : how much more should it be of proof, against the contempt of base persons !
423
CONTEMPLATIONS.
Besides his function, respect is had to his sufferings. The father and brethren of Abiathar were slain for David's sake; therefore, for David's sake, Abiathar, though worthy of death, shall live. He had been now a dead man, if he had not been formerly afflict- ed. Thus doth our good God deal with us : by the rod, he pre- vents the sword ; and therefore will not condemn us for our sins, be- cause we have suffered.
If Abiathar do not forfeit his life, yet his office he shall : he must change Jerusalem for Anathoth, and the priesthood for a retired privacy.
It was fourscore years ago, since the sentence of judgment was denounced against the house of Eli : now doth it come to execu- tion. This just quarrel against Abiathar, the last of that line, shall make good the threatened judgment. The wickedness of Eli's house was neither purged by sacrifice, nor obliterated by time. If God pay slowly , yet he pays sure. Delay of most certain punish- ment is neither anv hindrance to his justice, nor any comfort to our miseries. 1 Kings ii. iChron.xxlz.
THE EXECUTION OF JOAB AND SHIMEI.
Abiathar shall live, though he serve not. It is in the power of princes to remit, at least, those punishments, which attend the breach of human laws : good reason they should have power, to dis- pense with the wrongs done to their own persons.
The news of Adonijah's death and Abiathar' s removal, cannot but affright Joab ; who now runs to Gibeon, and takes sanctuary in the tabernacle of God. All his hope of defence is in the horns of the altar. Fond Joab, hadst thou formerly sought for counselfrom the tabernacle, thou hadst not now needed to seek to it for refuge : if thy devotions had not been wanting to that altar, thou hadst not needed it for a shelter. It is the fashion of our foolish presumption, to look for protection, where we have not cared to yield obe- dience.
Even a Joab clings fast to God's altar, in his extremity; which, in his ruff and welfare he regarded not. The worst men would be glad to make use of God's ordinances, for their advan- tage : necessity will drive the most profane and lawless man to God. But what do these bloody hands touching the holy altar of God ? Miserable Joab, what help canst thou expect from that sa- cred pile ? Those horns, that were sprinkled with the blood of beasts, abhor to be touched by the blood of men : that altar was for the expiation of sin, by blood; not for the protection of the sin of blood. Jf Adonijah fled thither and escaped, it is murder that pursues thee, more than conspiracy : God hath no sanctuary for a wilful homicide.
Yea, such respect doth Benaiah give to that holy place, that his Sword is unwilling to touch him that touches the altar. Those hoins
THE EXECUTION OF JOAB AND SHIMEI.
429
shall put off death for the time ; and give protraction of the execu- tion, though not preservation of life.
How sweet is life, even to those who have been prodigal of the blood of others, that Joab shifts thus to hold it, but some few hours !
Benaiah returns with Joab's answer, instead of his head ; Nay, but I will die here ; as not daring to unsheath his sword against a man sheltered in God's tabernacle, without a new commission. Young Solomon is so well acquainted with the law of God in such a case, that he sticks not at the sentence. He knew that God had enacted, If a man came presumptuously upon his neighbour, to slay him with guile, thou shall take him from mine altar, that he may die. He knew Joab's murders had not been more pre- sumptuous, than guileful ; and therefore he sends Benaiah to take away the offender, both from God and men, from the altar and the world.
No subject had merited more than Joab. When proclamation was made in Israel, that whoever should smite the Jebusites first, he should be the chief and captain, Joab was the man : when Da- vid built some part of Jerusalem, Joab built the rest; so as Jeru- salem owes itself to Joab, both for recovery and reparation : no man held so close to David : no man was more intent to the weal of Israel ; none so successful in victories : yet now he is called to reckon for his old sins, and must repay blood to Amasa and Abner. It is not in the power of all our deserts, to buy off one sin, either with God or man. Where life is so deeply forfeited, it admits of no redemption.
The honest simplicity of those times, knew not of any infamy in the execution of justice. Benaiah, who was the great marshal under Solomon, thinks not his fingers defiled with that fatal stroke. It is a foolish niceness, to put more shame in the doing of justice, than in the violating of it.
In one act, Solomon hath approved himself, both a good ma- gistrate and a good son ; fulfilling at once, the will of a father and the charge of God; concluding, upon this just execution, that Upon David, and upon his seed, and upon his house, and upon /it's throne, there shall be peace for ever •from the Lord ; and inferring, that, without this, there could have been no peace.
Blood is a restless suitor ; and will not leave clamouring for judg- ment, till the mouth be stopped with revenge. In this case, fa- vour to the offender is cruelty to the favourer.
Now hath Joab paid all his arrearages, by the sword of Benaiah. There is no suit against his corpse ; that hath the honour of a bu- rial, fit for a peer of Israel, for the near cousin to the king. Death puts an end to all quarrels. Solomon strikes off the score, when God is satisfied. The revenge, that survives death, and will not be shut up in the coffin, is barbarous, and unbeseeming true Is- raelites.
Only Shimei remains upon the file. His course is next ; yet so, as that it shall be in his own liberty to hasten his end. Upon David'sre- miision, Shimei dwells securely in Bahurim, a town of the tribe of
430
CONTEMPLATIONS.
Benjamin. Doubtless, when he saw so round justice done upon Ado- nijah and Joab, his guilty heart could not think Solomon's message portended ought but bis execution ; and now he cannot but be well pleased with so easy conditions, of dwelling at Jerusalem, and not assing over the brook Kidron. What more delightful place could e choose to live in, than that city, which was the glory of the whole earth ? what more pleasing bounds could he wish, than the sweet banks of Kidron ? Jerusalem could be no prison to him, while it was a Paradise to his betters ; and if he had a desire to take fresh air, he had the space of six furlongs to walk from the city to the brook. He could not complain to be so delectably confined. And besides, thrice every year he might be sure to see all his friends, without stirring his foot.
Wise Solomon, while he cared to seem not too severe an ex- actor of that which his father had remitted, prudently lays in- sensible twigs for so foul an offender. Besides the old grudge, no doubt Solomon saw cause to suspect the fidelity of Shimei ; as a man who was ever known to be hollow to the house of David. The obscurity of a country life would easily afford him, more safe opportunities of secret mischief. Many eyes shall watch him in the city. He cannot look out unseen ; he cannot whisper unheard. Upon no other terms shall he enjoy his life, which the least straying shall forfeit.
Shimei feels no pain in this restiaint. How many nobles of Is- rael do that for pleasure, which he doth upon command ! Three years hath he lived within compass, limited both by Solomon's charge and his own oath. It was still in his power, notwithstand- ing David's caveat, to have laid down his hoary head in the grave, without blood. The just God infatuates those, whom he means to plague. Two of Shimei's servants are fled to Gath ; and now he saddles his ass, and is gone to fetch them back. " Either," he thinks, " this word of Solomon is forgotten, or, in the multitude of greater affairs, not heeded ; or this so small an occurrence will not come to his ear." Covetousness, and presumption of impunity, are the destruction of many a soul. Shimei seeks his servants, and loses himself. How many are there, who cry out of this folly, and yet imitate it ! These earthly things either are our servants, or should be : how commonly do we see men run out of the bounds set by God's law, to hunt after them, till their souls incur a fearful judg- ment ?
Princes have thousands of eyes and ears. If Shimei will for more secresy saddle his own ass, and take, as is like, the benefit of night for his passage, his journey cannot be hid from Solomon. How wary had those men need to be, that arc obnoxious ! Without delay is Shimei complained of, con vented, charged with violation both of the oath of God and the injunction of Solomon ; and, that all these might appear to be but an occasion of that punishment, whose cause was more remote, now is all that old venom laid be- fore him, which his malice had long since spit at God's anointed ; Thou knowest all the wickedness, whereto thine heart is privy, that thou didst to David my father.
Solomon's choice, judgment, &c. 431
Had this old tally been stricken off, yet could not Shimei have pleaded ought for his life : for, had he said, " Let not my lord the king be thus mortally displeased, for so small an offence : who- ever died for passing over Kidron ? What man is the worse for my harmless journey ?" it had soon been returned, " If the act be small, yet the circumstances are deadly : the commands of sove- reign authority make the slightest duties weighty: if the journey be harmless, yet not the disobedience." It is not for subjects, to poise the prince's charge in the scales of their weak constructions; but they must suppose it ever to be of such importance, as is pre- tended by the commander.
Besides the precept, here was a mutual adjuration. Shimei swore not to go ; Solomon swore his death, if he went : the one oath must be revenged ; the other must be kept : if Shimei were false in offending, Solomon will be just in punishing. Now therefore, that, which Abishai the son of Zeruiah wished to have done in the greenness of the wound and was repelled, after long festering Benaiah is commanded to do. The stones that Shimei threw at David struck not so deep, as Benaiah's sword : the tongue that cursed the Lord's anointed hath paid the head to boot. Vengeance against rebels may sleep ; it cannot die : a sure, if late, judgment attends those, that flare lift up either the hand or tongue against the sacred persons of God's vicegerents. How much less will the God of Heaven suffer, unrevenged, the insolencies and blasphe- mies against his own divine majesty ! It is a fearful word, he should notbejust,af he should hold these guiltless. 1 Kings ii.
SOLOMON'S CHOICE, WITH HIS JUDGMENT UPON THE TWO HARLOTS.
After so many messages and proofs of grace, Solomon begins doubtfully, both for his match and for his devotion. If Pharaoh's daughter were not a proselyte, his early choice was (besides un- warrantable) dangerous. The high places not only stood, but were frequented, both by the people and king. I do not find David climbing up those mishallowed hills, in an affection of the variety of altars : Solomon doth so, and yet loves the Lord, and is loved of God again. Such is the mercy of our God, that he will not suffer our well meant weaknesses, to bereave us of his favours' : he rather pities, than plagues us, for the infirmities of upright hearts.
Gibeon was well worthy to be the chief, yea the only high place. There was the allowed altar of God : there was the tabernacle, though, as then, severed from the ark : thither did young Solomon go up ; and, as desiring to begin his reign with God, there he offers no less than a thousand sacrifices.
Solomon worships God by day : God appears to Solomon by night. Well may we look to enjoy God, when we have served hjm. The night cannot but be happy, whose day hath been holy.
It was no unusual course with God, to reveal himself unto his
432
CONTEMPLATION?.
servants by dreams : so did he here to Solomon ; who saw more with his eyes shut, than ever they could see open, even him that was invisible.
The good king had offered unto God a thousand burnt sacri- fices, and now God offered him his option ; Ask what I shall give thee. He, whose the beasts are on a thousand mountains, gra- ciously accepts a small return of his own. It stands not with the munificence of a bountiful God, to be indebted to his creature. We cannot give him ought unrecompensed. There is no way wherein we can be so liberal to ourselves, as by giving to the pos- sessor of all things. And art thou still, O God, less free unto us, thy meaner servants, under the Gospel ? Hast thou not said, What- soever ye shall ask the Father in my name, it shall be given you ? Only give us grace, not to be wanting unto thee, and wc know thou canst not suffer any thing to be wanting unto us.
The night follows the temper of the day ; and the heart so useth to sleep, as it wakes. Had not the thoughts of Solomon been in- tent upon wisdom bv day, he had not made it his suit in his dream. There needs no leisure of deliberation : the heart was so forestall- ed with the love and admiration of wisdom, that, not abiding the least motion of a competition, it fastens on that grace it had long- ed for ; Give unto thy servant an understanding heart, to judge thy people.
Had not Solomon been wise before, he had not known the worth of wisdom ; he had not preferred it in his desires. The dunghill cocks of the world cannot know the price of this pearl. Those, that have it, know that all other excellencies are but trash and rub- bish unto it.
Solomon was a great king, and saw that he had power enough ; but withal, he found that royalty, without wisdom, was no other than eminent dishonour. There is no trade of life, whereto there belongs not a peculiar wisdom ; without which, there is nothing but a tedious unprofitableness : much more to the highest and busiest vocation, the regiment of men.
As God hath no reason, to give his best favours unasked, so hath he no will to withhold them, where they are asked.
He, that in his cradle had the title of beloved of God, is now belov- ed more in the throne, for the love and desire of wisdom.
This soil could never have borne this fruit alone. Solomon could not so much as have dreamed of wisdom, if God had not put it into him ; and now God takes the suit so well, as if he were be- holden to his creature, for wishing the best to itself ; and because Solomon hath asked what he should, he shall now receive, both what he asked and what he asked not : riches and honour shall be given him into the match. So doth God love a good choice, that he recompenses it with overgiving. Could we but first seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness, all these earthly things should be superadded to us. Had Solomon made wealth his boon, he had failed both of riches and wisdom ; now he asks the best, and speeds of all. They are in a fair way of happiness, that can pray wett
Solomon's choice, judgment, &c. 433
It was no discomfort to Solomon, that he awaked and found it a dream ; for he knew this dream was divine and oracular ; and he already found in his first waking, the real performance of what was promised him sleeping : such illumination did he sensibly find in all the rooms of his heart, as if God had now given him a new soul.
No marvel if Solomon, now returning from the tabernacle to the ark, testified his joy and thankfulness, by burnt-offerings, and peace-offerings, and public feastings. The heart, that hath found in itself the lively testimonies of God's presence and favour, cannot contain itself from outward expressions.
God likes not to have his gifts lie dead, where he hath conferred them. Israel shall soon witness they have a king enlightened from heaven ; in whom wisdom did not stay for heirs, did not admit of any parallel in his predecessors. The all-wise God will find occa- sions to draw forth those graces to use and light, which he hath bestowed on man.
Two harlots come before young Solomon, with a difficult plea. Itis not like, the prince's ear was the first that heard this complaint : there was a subordinate course of justice, for the determination of these meaner incidences. The hardness of this decision brought the matter, through all the benches of inferior judicature, to the tribunal of Solomon.
The very Israelitish harlots were not so unnatural, as some now a days, that counterfeit honesty. These strive for the fruit of their womb ; ours, to put them off.
One son is yet alive ; two mothers contend for him. The chil- dren were alike for feature, for age ; the mothers were alike for reputation. Here can be no evidence from others' eyes. Whe- ther's now is the living child ; and whether's is the dead ? Had Solomon gone about to wring forth the truth by tortures, he had
Eerhaps plagued the innocent, and added pain to the misery of er loss : the weaker had been guilty ; and the more able to bear, had carried away both the child and the victory. The countenance of either of the mothers bewrayed an equality of passion : sorrow possessed the one, for the son she had lost ; and the other, for the .son she was in danger to lose. Both were equally peremptory and importunate in their claim. It is in vain to think, that the true part can be discerned, by the vehemence of their challenge: falsehood is oft-times more clamorous than truth. No witnesses can be pro- duced. They two dwelt apart under one roof; and if some neigh- bours have seen the children at their birth and circumcision, yet how little difference, how much change, is there, in the favour of infants ! How doth death alter more confirmed lines !
The impossibility of proof makes the guilty more confident, more impudent. The true mother pleads, that her child was taken away at midnight, by the other ; but in her sleep : she saw it not ; she telt it not; and, if all her senses could have witnessed it, yet here was but the affirmation of the one, against the denial of tlw other, which in persons alike credible do but counterpoise.
VOL. I. Ff
431 CONTEMPLATIONS.
What is there now to lead the judge, since there is nothing either in the act, or circumstances, or persons, or plea, or evidence, that might sway the sentence ? Solomon well saw, that, when all out- ward proofs failed, there was an inward affection, which, if it could be fetched out, would certainly bewray the true mother. He knew, sorrow might more easily be dissembled, than natural love : both sorrowed for their own ; both could not love one, as theirs 1 to draw forth then this true proof of motherhood, Solomon calls for a sword.
Doubtless, some of the wiser hearers smiled upon each other ; and thought in themselves, " What ! will the young king cut these knotty causes in pieces ? Will he divide justice with edge tools? Will he smite at hazard, before conviction r" The actions of wise princes are riddles to vulgar constructions ; neither is it for the shallow capacities of the multitude, to fathom the deep pro- jects of sovereign authority. That sword, which had served for execution, shall now serve for trial ; Divide ye the living child in twain, and give the one half to the one, and the other half to the other. O divine oracle of justice, commanding that which it would not have done, that it might find out that which could not be dis- covered ! Neither God nor his deputies may be so taken at their words, as if they always intended their commands for action, and not sometimes for probation.
This sword hath already pierced the breast of the true mother ; and divided her heart with fear and grief, at so killing a sentence. There needs no other rack, to discover nature ; and now she thinks, " Woe is me, that came for justice, and am answered with cruelty ; Divide ye the living child! Alas! what hath that poor infant of- fended ? that it survives, and is sued for ? How much less misera- ble had I been, that my child had been smothered in my sleep, than mangled before mine eves ! If a dead carcase could have sa- tisfied me, I needed not to have complained. What a woeful con- dition am I fallen into, who am accused to have been the death of my supposed child already, and now shall be the death of my own! If there were no loss of my child, yet how can I endure this tor- ment of mine own bowels ? How can I live to see this part of my- self, sprawling under that bloody sword ?" And, while she thinks thus, she sues to that suspected mercy of her just judge, 0 wy lord, give her the living child, and slay him not ; as thinking, " If he live, he shall but change a mother ; if he die, his mother Ioscth a son : while he lives, it shall be my comfort, that I have a son, though I may not call him so ; dying, he perisheth to both : it is better he should live to a wrong mother, than to neither." Con- trarily, her envious competitor, as holding herself well satisfied that her neighbour should be as childless as herself, can say, Let it be neither mine nor thine, but divide it. Well might Solomon and every hearer conclude, that, either she was no mother or a monster, that could be content with the murder of her child ; and that if she could have been the true mother, and yet have desired the blood of her infant, she had been as worthy, to have been stripped
THE TEMPLE. 435
of her child for so foul unnaturalness, as the other had been worthy to enjoy him for her honest compassion. Not more justly than wisely therefore, doth, Solomon trace the true mother, by the foot- steps of love and pitv ; and adjudgeth the child to those bowels, that had yearned at his danger.
Even in morality, it is thus also. Truth, as it is one, so it loves entireness ; falsehood, division. Satan, that hath no right to the heart, would be content with a piece of it : God, that made it all, will have either the whole or none. The erroneous Church strives with the true, for the living child of saving doctrine : each claims it for her own : heresy, conscious of her own injustice, could be content to go away with a leg or an arm of sound principles, as hoping to make up the rest with her own mixtures ; truth cannot abide to part with a joint, and will rather endure to lose all by violence, than a piece through a willing connivancy.
1 Kings ui. 2 Chron. i.
THE TEMPLE.
It is a weak and injurious censure, thattaxeth Solomon's slackness, in founding the house of God. Great bodies must have but slow motions. He was wise, that said, " The matters must be ail pre- pared without, ere we build within." And if David have laid read v a great part of the metals and timber, yet many a tree must be felled and squared, and many a stone hewn and polished, ere this foundation could be laid ; neither could those large cedars be cut, sawn, seasoned, in one year ; four years are soon gone, in so vast a preparation.
David had not been so entire a friend to Hiram, if Hiram had not been a friend to God. Solomon's wisdom hath taught him to make use of so good a neighbour, of a father's friend. He knew , that the Tyrians' skill was not given them for nothing. Not Jews only, but Gentiles, must have their hand, in building the temple of God : only Jews meddled with the tabernacle, but the temple is not built without the aid of Gentiles : they, together with us, make up the Church of God.
Even pagans have their arts from heaven : how justly may we improve their graces, to the service of the God of Heaven ! If there be a Tyrian, that can work more curiously in gold, in silver, in brass, in iron, in purple, and blue silk, than an Israelite, why should not he be employed about the temple ? Their heathenism is their own ; their skill is their Maker's. Many a one works for the Church of God, that yet hath no part in it.
Solomon raises a tribute for the work ; not of money, but of men. Thirty thousand Israelites are levied for the service ; yet not continually, but with intermission : their labour is more generous, and less pressing: it is enough if they keep their courses one month in Lebanon, two ut home; so as ever ten thousand work, while twenty thousand breathe. So favourable is God to his crea-
436' CONTEMPLATIONS.
trire, that he requires us not to be overtoiled, in the works of his own service. Due respirations are requisite in the holiest acts.
The main stress of the work lies upon proselytes ; whose both number and pains were herein more than the natives'". A hundred and fifty thousand of them are employed, in bearing burthens, in hewing stones ; besides their three thousand three hundred over- seers. Now were the despised Gibeonites of good use ; and in vain doth Israel wish, that the zeal of Saul had not robbed them of so serviceable drudges.
There is no man so mean, but may be some way useful to the house of God. Those, that cannot work in gold, and silver, and silk, yet may cut and hew; and those, that can. do neither, yet may carry burthens. Even the services that are more homely, are not less necessary. Who can dishearten himself, in the conscience of his own insufficiency, when he sees, God can as well serve him- self of his labour, as of his skill ?
The Terriple is framed in Lebanon, and set up in Sion. Neither hammer nor axe was heard in that holy structure. There was no-1 thing but noise in Lebanon ; nothing- in Sion, but silence and peace. Whatever tumults are abroad, it is fit there should be all quietness and sweet concord in the Church. O God, that the axes of schism, or the hammers of furious contentions, should be heard within thy sanctuary ! Thy house is not built with blows : with blows, it is beaten down. Oh knit the hearts of thy servants to- gether, u In the unity of the spirit and the bond of peace ;" that we may mind and speak the same things ; that thou, who art the God of peace, mayest take pleasure to dwell, under the quiet roof of our hearts.
Now is the foundation laid, and the walls rising, of that glorious fabric, which ail nations admired, and all times have celebrated. Even those stones, which were laid in the base of the building, were not ragged and rude, but hewn and costlv. The part, that lies covered with earth from the eyes of all beholders, is no less precious, than those that are more conspicuous : God is not all for the eye : he pleaseth himself, with the hidden value of the living stones of his spiritual temple. How many noble graces of his ser- vants have been buried in obscurity ; not discerned so much as by their own eyes ; which yet, as he gave, so he ci owneth ! Hypo- crites regard nothing but shew ; God, nothing but truth.
The matter of so goodly a frame strives with the proportion, whether shall more excel : here was nothing but white marble without ; nothing but cedar and gold within. Upon the hill of Sion stands that glittering and snowy pile, which both invketh and dazzleth the eyes of passengers afar off: so much more precious within, as cedar is better than stone; gold, than cedar. No base thing goes to the making up of God's house. If Satan may have a dwelling, he cares not though he patch it up, of the rubbish of •stone, or rotten sticks, or dross of metals : God will admit of no- thing that is not pure and exquisite: his Church consists of n< but the faithful ; his habitation is in no heart but the gracious.
THE TEMPLE. 437
The fashion was no other than that of the tabernacle ; only this Mas more costly, more large, more fixed : God was the same that dwelt in both ; he varied not : the same mystery was in both. Only, it was fit, there should be a proportion, betwixt the work and the builder : the tabernacle was erected in a popular estate ; the temple, in a monarchy : it was fit, this should savour of the munificence of a king, as that of the zeal of a multitude. That was erected in the flitting condition of Israel in the desert ; this, in their settled residence in the promised laud : it was fit therefore, that should be framed for motion ; this, for rest. Both of them were distinguished into three remarkable divisions, whereof each was more noble, more reserved, than other.
But what do we bend our eyes upon stone, and wood, and me- tals? God would never have taken pleasure in these dead mate- rials, for their own sakes, if they had not had a further intend- ment.
Methinks I see four temples in this one. It is but one in matter ; as the God that dwells in it is but one : three, yet more, in resem- blance ; according to division of them, in whom it pleaseth God to inhabit ; for wherever God dwells, there is his temple. O God, thou vouchsafest to dwell in the believing heart. As we, thy silly creatures, have our being in thee, so thou, the Creator of heaven and earth, hast thy dwelling in us. The heaven of heavens is not able to contain thee ; and yet, thou disdainest not to dwell in the. strait lodgings of our renewed soul. So then, because God's chil- dren arc many, and those many divided in respect of themselves though united in their head, therefore this temple, which is but one in colle-:feon, as God is one, is manifold in the distribution, as the saints are many ; each man bearing about him a little shrine of this infinite majesty : and, for that the most general division of the saints is in their place and estate, some struggling and toiling in this earthly warfare, others triumphing in heavenly glory, there- fore hath God two other more universal temples ; one, the Church
i of his saints on earth ; the other, the highest Heaven of his saints
; glorified. In all these, O God, thou dwellest for ever, and this material house of thine is a clear representation of these three spiritual. Else, what were a temple made with hands unto the God of Spirits ? And though one of these was a true type of all, yet how arc they all exceeded each by other ! This of stone, though
j most rich and costly, yet what is it to the living temple of the Holy Ghost, which is our body ? What is the temple of this bodv of ours, to the temple of Christ's body, which is his Church ? And what is the temple of God's Church on earth, to that which trmmphcth gloriously in heaven?
How easily do we see all these, in this one visible temple ! which as it had three distinctions of rooms, the Porch, the Holy Place,
; the Holy of Holies, so is each of them answered spiritually : in tin- Porch, we find the regenerate soul entering into the blessed society of the Church; in the Holy Place, the Communion of the true visible Church on earth, selected from the world ; in the
43* CONTEMPLATIONS.
Holy of Holies, whereinto the high-priest entered ouce a year, the glorious Heaven, into which our true high-priest, Christ Jesus, entered once for all, to make an atonement betwixt God and man.
In all these, what a meet correspondence there is, both in pro- portion, matter, situation !
In proportion : — The same rule, that skilful carvers observe int the cutting out of the perfect statue of a man, that the height be thrice the breadth, and the breadth one third of the height, was likewise duly observed in the fabric of the temple: whose length was double to the height, and treble to the breadth; as being sixty cubits long, thirty high, and twenty broad. How exquisite a symmetry hast thou ordained, (> God, betwixt the faithful heart, and thy Church on earth, with that in Heaven : how accurate in each of these, in all their powers and parts, compared with other ! So, hath God ordered the believing soul, that it hath neither too much shortness of grace, nor too much height of conceit, nor too much breadth of passion. So hath he ordered his visible Church, that there is a necessary inequality, without any disproportion ; a height of government, a length of extent, a breadth of jurisdic- tion, duly answerable to each other : so hath he ordered his tri- umphant Church above, that it hath a length of eternity, answered with a height of perfection, and a breadth of incomprehensible
g,ory-
In matter : — All was here of the best. The wood was precious, sweet, lasting ; the stones beautiful, costly, insensible of age ; the gold pure and glittering : so are the graces of God's children ; ex- cellent in their nature, dear jn their acceptation, eternal in their use : so are the ordinances of God in his Church ; holy, comfort- able, irrefragable : so is the perfection of his glorified saints ; in- comparable, unconceivable.
In situation : — The outer parts were here more common ; the inward more holy, and peculiarly reserved. I find one court of the temple open to the unclean, to the uncircumcised : within that, another, open only to the Israelites ; and, of them, to the clean : within that, yet another, proper onlv to the priests and Levites ; where was the brazen altar for sacrifice, and the brazen sea for washings ; the eyes of the laity might follow their oblations in hither, their feet might not : yet more, in the covered rooms of the temple, there is, whither the priests only may enter, not the Levites ; there is, whither the high priest only may enter, not his brethren. It is thus in every renewed man, the individual temple of Cod : the outward parts are allowed common to God and the world ; the inwardest and secretest, which is the heart, is reserved only for the God that made it. It is thus in the Church visible : the false and foul-hearted hypocrite hath access to the holy ordinances of God, and treads in his courts; only the true Christian hath en- tire and private conversation, with the Holy One of Israel ; he only is admitted into the Holy of Holies, and enters within tiie glorious veil of heaven.
If, from the walls, we look unto the furniture ; what is the altar,
SOLOMON, AND THE QUEEN OF SHEB A. .439
whereon our sacrifices of prayer and praises are offered to the Al- mighty, but a contrite heart ? What the golden candlesticks, but the illumined understanding, wherein the light of the knowledge of God, and his divine will shineth for ever ? What the tables of shew-bread, but the sanctified memory, which keepeth the bread of life continually ? Yea, if we shall presume so far, as to enter into the very closet of God's oracle, even there, O God, do we find our unworthy hearts so honoured by thee, that they are made the very ark, wherein thy royal law and the pot of thy heavenly manna are kept for ever; and from whose propitiatory, shaded with the wings of thy glorious angels, thou givest thy gracious testimonies of thy good Spirit, witnessing with ours, that we arc the children of thee the living God.
Behold, if Solomon built a temple unto thee, thou hast built a temple unto thyself, in us. We are not only, through thy grace, living stones in thy temple, but living temples in thy Sion. Oh do thou ever dwell in this thy house ; and in this thy house, let us ever serve thee. Wherefore else hast thou a temple, but for thy presence with us, and for our worshipping of thee f The time was, when, as thy people, so thyself, didst lodge in flitting tents ; ever shifting, ever moving: thence, thou thoughtest best to sojourn, botli in Shiloh and the roof of Obed Edom. After that, thou eondescendedst to settle thine abode with men, and wouldst dwell in a house of thine own, at thy Jerusalem. So didst thou, in the beginning, lodge with our first parents in a tent ; sojourn with Is- rael, under the Law ; and now makest a constant residence, under flic Gospel, in the hearts of thy chosen children, from whence thou wilt remove no more: they shall remove from the world, from the mselves ; thou shalt not remove from them.
Wheresoever thou art, O God, thou art worthy of adoration. Since thou ever wilt dwell in us, be thou ever worshipped in us. Let the altars of our clean hearts send up ever to thee, the sweetest perfumed smokes of our holy meditations, and faithful prayers, and cheerful thanksgivings. Let the pure lights of our faith and godly conversation shine ever before thee and men, and never be put out. Let the bread of life stand ever ready, upon the pure and precious tables of our hearts. Lock up thy law and thy manna within us ; and speak comfortably to us from thy mercy-seat. Suf- fer nothing to enter in hither, that is unclean. Sanctify us unto thyself, and be thou sanctified in us.
1 Kings v, vi, 2 Chron. ii, Hi, iv.
SOLOMON, AND THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
God hath no use of the dark lanterns of secret and reserved per- fections : we ourselves do not light up candles, to put them under bushels, The great lights, whether of heaven or earth, are not intended to obscurity ; but, as to give light unto otlicrs, so to, be seen themselves.
440
CONTEMPLATIONS.
Dan and Becrsheba were too strait bounds, for the fame of So- lomon ; whicth new bath flown over all lands and seas, and raised the world to an admiration of his more than human wisdom. Even so, O thou everlasting King of Peace, thy name is great among the Gentiles. There is no speech nor language, where the report of thee is not heard : the sound of thee is gone forth through all the earth. Thy name is an ointment poured out; therefore the virgins love thee.
No doubt, many , from all coasts, came to learn and wonder; none, with so much note, as this noble daughter of Cham : who, herself, deserves the next wonder to him, whom she came to hear and admire. That a woman, a princess, a rich and great queen, should travel from the remotest south, from Saba, a region famous for the greatest delicacies of nature, to learn wisdom, is a match- less example. We know merchants, that venture to either Indies for wealth ; others, we know daily to cross the seas, lor wanton curiosity ; some few Plulosophers, we have known to have gone far for learning ; and, amongst princes, it is no unusual thing, to send their ambassadors to far distant kingdoms, for transaction of businesses, either of state or commerce : but, that a royal lady should, in person, undertake and overcome so tedious a journey, onlv to observe and inquire into the mysteries of nature, art, reli- gion, is a thing past both parallel and imitation. Why do we think anv labpur great, or any way long, to hear a greater than Solomon ? How justly shall the Queen of the South rise up in judgment and condemn us, who may hear wisdom crying in our streets, and negr Ject her !
Certainly, so wealthy a queen, and so great a lover of wisdom, could not want great scholars at home : them she had first op- posed, with her enigmatical demands: and now, finding herself Unsatisfied, she takes herself to this oracle of God. It is a good thing to doubt ; better, to be resolved : the mind that never doubts shall learn nothing ; the mind that ever doubts shall never pro- fit by learning : our doubts only serve to stir us up to seek truth ; our resolutions settle us in the truth we have found. There were no pleasure in resolutions, if we had not been formerly troubled with doubts ; there were nothing but discomfort and disquietness in doubts, if it were not for the hope of resolution. It is not safe, to suffer doubts to dwell too long upon the heart : there may be a good use of them as passengers ; dangerous, as inmates : happy arc wr, if we can find a Solomon to remove them.
Faroe, as it is always a blab, so oft-times a liar. The wise princess found cause to distrust so uncertain an informer; whose reports are still, either doubtful or fabulous, and, like winds or streams, increase in passing. If very great things were not spoken of Solomon, fame should have wronged him ; and if but just rumours were spread cf his wisdom, there needed much credulity to belie ve them. This great queen would not suffer herself to be led by the ears ; but comes in person, to examine the truth of foreign rela- tions. How much more unsafe is it, in the most important bur
SOLOMON, AND THE QUEEN OF SHEBA. 44-1
sinesses of our souls, to trust the opinions and reports of others ! Those ears and eyes are ill bestowed, that do not serve to choose and judge for their owners.
When we come to a rich treasure, we need not be bidden to carrv away what we are able. This wise lady, as she came far for knowledge, so, finding the plenty of this vein", she would not depart without her full load : there was nothing, wherein she would leave herself unsatisfied : she knew that she could not every day meet with a Soiomon, and therefore she makes her best use of so learned a master : now she empties her heart of all her doubts, and fills it with instruction. It is not good neglecting the opportunities, of furnishing our souls with profitable, with saving knowledge. There is much wisdom, in moving a question well, though there be more in assoiling it : what use do we make of Solomon's teacher ; if, sitting at the feet of Christ, we leave our hearts either ignorant or perplexed r
As if the errand of this wealthy cjueen had been to buy wisdom, she came with her camels laden with gold, and precious stones, and rich odours : though to a mighty king, she will not come to school empty handed. If she came to fetch an invaluable treasure, she finds it reason to give thanks unto him that kept it. As he is a fool, that hath a price in his hand to get wisdom, and wants a heart ; so is he unthankful, that hath a heart to get wisdom, and hath no price in his hand ; a price, not countcrvailable to what he seeks, but retributory to him of whom he seeks. How shameful is it, to come always with close hands to them, that teach us the great mysteries of salvation !
Expectation is no better than a kind enemy to good deserts. We lose those objects which we overlook. Many had been ad- mired, if they had not been overmuch befriended by fame ; who now, in our judgment, are cast as much below their rank, as they were fore-imagined above it. This disadvantage had wise Solo- mon with this stranger, whom rumour had bid to look for incredi- ble excellencies ; yet, so wonderful were the graces of Solomon, that they overcame the highest expectation, and the liberallest be- lief ; so as when she saw the architecture of his buildings, the pro- visions of his tables, the order of his attendants, the religion of his sacrifices, she confessed, both her un}ust incredulity in not believ- ing the report of his wisdom, and the injury of report in under, rating it ; / believed not the words till I came, and mine eyes- had seen it, and lo, the one half was not told vie. Her eyes were more sure informers than her ears. She did not so much hear as see Solomon's wisdom, in these Peal effects. His answers did not so much demonstrate it, as his prudent government. T-herc are some, whose speeches are witty, while their carriage is- weak ; whose deeds are incongruities, while their words are apothegms. It is not worth the name of wisdom, that may be heard only, and not seen : good -discourse is but the froth of wisdom ; the pure and solid sub- stance of it, is in well-framed actions : If we know these things^ happy qre we if we do them.
442 CONTEMPLATIONS.
And if this great person admired the w isdom, and buildings, the domestie order of Solomon, and chiefly his stately ascent into the house of the Lord, how should our souls be taken up with wonder at thee, O thou true Son of David, and Prince of everlasting Peace, who receivedst the Spirit not by measure ! who hast built this glo- rious house, not made with hands, even the heaven of heavens ! whose infinite providence hath sweetly disposed of all the family of thy creatures both in heaven and earth ! and who, lastly, didst ascend up on high, and leddest captivity captive, and gavcst gifts to men !
So well had this studious lady profited by the lectures of that exquisite master, that now she envies, she magnifies, none but them, who may live within the air of Solomon's wisdom ; Happy are the men, and happy are thy servants, which stand continually before thee, and that hear thy wisdom ; as if she coidd have been content, to have changed her throne for the footstool of Solomon. It is not easy to conceive, how great a blessing it is, to live under those lips, which do both preserve knowledge and utter it : if we were not glutted with good counsel, we should find no relish in any worldly contentment, in comparison thereof ; but, He that is full despiseth a honeycomb.
She, whom her own experience had taught how happy a thing it is to have a skilful pilot sitting at the stern of the state, blesseth Israel for Solomon, blesseth God for Israel, blesseth Solomon and Israel mutually in each other ; Blessed be the Lord thy God, which delighted in thee, to set thee on the throne of Israel. Because the Lord loved Israel for ever, therefore made he thee king, to do judgment and justice.
It was not more Solomon's advancement to be king of Israel, than it was the advancement of Israel to be governed by a- Solomon. There is no earthly proof of God's love to any nation, comparable to the substitution of a wise and pious governor : to him we owe our peace, our life, and, which is deservedly dearer, the life of our souls, the Gospel. But, O God, how much hast thou loved thine Israel for ever, in that thou hast set over it that righteous branch of Jesse, whose name is Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace : in whose days Jiu dah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely ! Sing, 0 heaven, and rejoice, O earth, and break forth into singing, O mountains, for God hath comforted his people, and will have everlasting mercy upon bis ({ttlicted.
The queen of Shcba did not bring her gold and precious stones to look on, or to re-cam , but to give to a wealthier than herself. She gives therefore to Solomon a hundred and twenty talents of gold, beside* costly stones and .odours. He, that made silver in Je- rusalem as stones, is yet richly presented on all hands. The riv ers still run into the sea : to him that hath shall be given. How should Ave bring unto thee, O thou King of Heaven, the purest gold of thine own graces, the sweetest odours of our obediences! Was not this withal a type of that homage, which should be done unto thee,
Solomon's defection. 443
O Saviour, by the lien .Is of the nations ? The kings of Tarshish and the Isles bring presents ; the kings of Sheba and Saba bring gifts; yea, all kings shall worship thee, all nations shall serve thee. They cannot enrich themselves, but by giving unto thee.
It could not stand with Solomon's magnificence , to receive rich cour- tesies without a return, The greater the person was, the greater was the obligation of requital. The gifts of mean persons are taken but as tributes of duty : it is dishonourable, to take from equals, and not to retribute. There was not therefore more freedom in her gift, than in her receipt : her own will was the measure of both. She gave what she would ; she received whatsoever she would ask : and she had little profited bv Solomon's school, if she had not learned to ask the best : she returns therefore, more richly laden than she came : she gave to Solomon, as a thankful client of wisdom ; So- lomon returns to her, as a munificent patron, according to the li- berality of a king. We shall be. sure to be gainers, by whatsoever we give unto thee, O thou God of wisdom and peace. Oh that we could come from the remote regions of our infidelity and worldli- ness, to learn wisdom of thee, who both teachest and givest it abundantly, without upbraiding, without grudging ; and could bring with us the poor presents, of our faithful desires and sincere services : how wouldst thou receive us, with a gracious accepta- tion ; and send us away, laden with present comfort, with eternal glory ! 1 Kings x. 2 Ch.ron. ix.
SOLOMON'S DEFECTION.
Since the first man Adam, the world hath not yielded, either so great an example of wisdom, or so fearful an example of apostasy, as Solomon. What human knowledge Adam had, in the perfection of nature by creation, Solomon had by infusion ; both fully, both from one fountain. If Adam called all creatures by their names, Solomon spake from the cedars of .Lebanon to the moss that springs out of the wail ; and besides these vegetables, t here was no beast, nor fowl, nor fish, nor creeping thing, that escaped his discourse. Both fell ; both fell by one means: as Adam, so might Solomon have said, The woman deceived me. It is true indeed, that Adam fell as all ; Solomon, as one ; vet so as that this one is the pattern of the frailty of all. If knowledge could have given an immunity from sin, both had stood.
Affections are those feet of the soul, on which it either stands or falls. Solomon loved many outlandish women : I wonder not, if the wise king miscarried. Every word hath bane enough for a man : women ; many women ; outlandish ; idolatrous ; and those, not only had, but doated on. Sex, multitude, nation, condition, all conspired to the ruin of a Solomon. If one woman undid all mankind, what marvel is it, if many women undid one ? Yet had those many been the daughters of Israel, they had tempted hnu only to lust ; not to mis-devotion : now the}' were of those nations,
444 CONTEMPLATIONS.
whereof the Lord had said to the children of Israel, Go not ye in to them, nor let them come in to you ; for surely they will turn your hearts after their gods. To them did Solomon join in love : who can marvel, if they disjoined his heart from God.
Satan hath found this bait to take so well, that he never changed jt, since he crept into Paradise. How many have we known, whose heads have been broken with their own rib ! In the first world, the sons of God saw the daughters of men, and took them wives of all they liked : they multiplied not children, but iniquities. Balaam knew well, if the dames of Moab could make the Israelites wan- tons, they should soon make them idolaters. All lies open, where the covenant is not, both made with the eye, and kept.
It was the charge of God to the kings of Israel before they wee, that they should not multiply wives. Solomon had gone beyond the stakes of the law ; and now is ready to lose himself, amongst a thousand bedfellows. Whoso lays the reins on the neck of his car- dial appetite, cannot promise where he will rest.
O Solomon, where was thy wisdom, while thine affections run away with thee into so wild a voluptuousness ? What boots it thee to discourse of all things, while thou mis-knowest thyself? The perfections of speculation do not argue the inward powers of self- government. The eye may be clear, while the hand is palsied. It is not so much to be heeded, how the soul is informed, as how it is disciplined : the light of knowledge doth well, but the due order of the affections doth better. Never any mere man since the first knew so much as Solomon ; many, tiiat have known less, have had more command of themselves. A competent estate well husbanded, is better than a vast patrimony neglected,
There can be no safety to that soul, where is not a strait curb upon our desires. If our lusts be not held under as slaves, they will rule as tyrants. Nothing can prevent the extremity of our mis- carriage, but early and strong denials of our concupiscence. Had Solomon done thus, delicacy and lawless greatness had not led him into these bogs of intemperance.
The ways of youth are steep and slippery, wherein, as it is easy to fall, so it is commonly relieved with pity ; but the wanton inor- dinations of age are not more unseasonable than odious: yet be- hold Solomon's younger years were studious and innocent ; his over-hastened age was licentious and misgoverned ; For, when &'o* lomon was old, his wives turned away his heart after other gods. If any age can secure us from the danger of a spiritual fall, it is our last ; and if any man's old age might secure him, it was Solomon's ; the beloved of God, the oracle, the miracle of wisdom. Who would have looked, but that the blossoms of so hopeful a spring, should have yielded a goodly and pleasant fruit, in the autumn of age ? yet behold, even Solomon's old age vicious. There is no time Y herein we can be safe, while we carry this body of sin about us : youth is impetuous; mid-age, stubborn ; old age, weak ; all, dan- gerous. Say not now • " The fury of my youthful flashes is over : I shall henceforth find my heart calm and impregnable ;" while
solomon's defection. 445' thou secst old Solomon doating upon his concubines, yea, upon their idolatry.
It is no presuming upon time, nor means, nor strength. How many have begun and proceeded well, who yet have shamed them- selves in their last stage ! If God uphold us not, we cannot stand : if God uphold us, we cannot fall. When we are at the strongest, it is the best to be weak in ourselves ; and when at our weakest, strong in him, in whom we can do all things.
I cannot yet think so hard of Solomon, that he would project his person to Ashteroth the goddess of the Sidonians, or Milcom the. idol of the Ammonites, or Chemosh the abomination of Moab. He, that knew all things from the shrub to the cedar, could not be igno- rant, that these statues were but stocks, or stones, or metals ; and the powers resembled by them, devils. It is not like he could be so insensate, to adore such deities ; but so far was the uxorious king blinded with affection, that he gave not passage only, to the ido- latry of his heathenish wives, but furtherance.
So did he dote upon their persons, that he humoured them in their sins : their act is therefore his, because his eyes winked at it ; his hand advanced it. He, that built a temple to the living God for himself and Israel in Sion, built a temple to Chemosh in the Mount of Scandal, for his mistresses of Moab, in the very face of God's house. No hill about Jerusalem was free from a chapel of devils. Each of his dames had their puppets, their altars, their incense. Because Solomon feeds them in their superstition, he draws the sin home to himself, and is branded for what he should have forbidden. Even our very permission appropriates crimes to us. We need no more guiltiness of any sin, than our willing toleration.
Who can but yearn and fear, to see the woeful wreck of so rich and goodly a vessel! O Solomon, wcrt not thou he, whose younger years God honoured with a message and style of love ? to whom God twice appeared ; and, in a gracious vision, renewed the cove- nant of his favour ? whom he singled out from all the generation of men, to be the founder of that glorious temple, which was no less clearly the type of heaven, than thou wert of Christ, the Son of the ever-living God ? Wert not thou that deep sea of wisdom, which God ordained to send forth rivers and fountains, of all divine and human knowledge to all nations, to all ages ? Wert not thou one of those select secretaries, whose hand it pleased the Almighty to employ, in three pieces of the divine monuments of Sacred Scrip- tures ? WThich of us dares ever hope to aspire unto thy graces ? Which of us can promise to secure ourselves from thy ruins ? We fall, O God, we fall to the lowest hell, if thou prevent us not, if thou sus ain us not. Uphold thou me, according to thy word, that I may live ; and let vie not be ashamed of my hope. Order my steps in thy word, and let not any iniquity have dominion over me. All our weakness is in ourselves ; all our strength is in thee. O God, be thou strong in our weakness, that our weak knees may be ever steady in thy strength.
4*6 CONTEMPLATIONS,
But in the midst of the horror of this spectacle, able to affright all the sons of men, behold some glimpse of comfort. Was it of .Solomon, that David his father prophesied; Though he fall ', he thai I not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand? If sensible grace, yet final mercy was not taken from that beloved of God : in the hardest of this winter, the sap was gone down to the root, though it shewed not in the branches. Even while Solomon removed, that word stood fast, He shall be my son, and I will be his father. He, that foresaw his sin, threat- ened and limited his correction ; If he break my statutes, and keep not my commandments, then will I visit his transgression with a rod, and his iniquity with stripes; nevertheless, my loving kindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithful- ness to fail ; my covenant will I not break ; nor alter the thing that is gone oat of my mouth.
Behold, the favour of God doth not depend upon Solomon's obedience : if Solomon shall suffer his faithfulness to fail towards his God, God will not requite him, with the failing of his faithful- ness to Solomon : if Solomon break his covenant with God, God will not break his covenant with the father of Solomon, with the son of David : he shall smart ; he shall not perish. O gracious word of the God of all mercies ; able to give strength to the languishing ; comfort to the despairing ; to the dying, life ! Whatsoever we are, thou wilt be still thyself, O Holy One of Israel; true to thy covenant, constant to thy decree: the sins of thy chosen can neither frustrate thy counsel, nor outstrip thv mercies.
Now I see Solomon, of a wanton lover, a grave preacher of mor- tification. I see him quenching those inordinate flames, with the tears of his repentance. Metlnnks I hear him sighing deeply, be- twixt every word of that his solemn penance, which he would needs enjoin himself before all the world ; 1 have applied my heart to know the wickedness of folly, even the foolishness of madness ; and I find more bitter than death, the woman, whose heart is as nets and snares, and her hands as bands : whoso pleaseth God shall be delivered from her; but the sinner shall be taken by her.
Solomon was taken as a sinner ; delivered, as a penitent. His soul escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers ; the snare was broken, and he delivered. It is good for us, that he was both taken and delivered ; taken, that we might not presume ; and, that we might not despair, delivered. He sinned, that we might not sin ; he recovered, that we may not sink under our sin.
But, Oh the justice of God inseparable from his mercy ! Solo- mon's sin shall not escape the rod of men. Bather than so wise an offender shall want enemies, God shall raise up three adversaries unto Solomon; Hadad the Edomite, Bezon the king of Aram, Je- roboam the son of Nebat ; whereof, two were foreign, one domes- tical. Nothing but love and peace sounded in the name of Solo- mon ; nothing else was found in his reign, whde he held in good terms with bis God : but when once he fell foul with his Maker, ail
Solomon's defection. 447 things began to be troubled. There are whips laid up against the time of Solomon1 s foreseen offence, which are now brought forth for his correction. On purpose was Hadad the son of the king of Edom hid in a coiner of Egypt from the sword of David and Joab, that he might be reserved for a scourge to the exorbitant son of David. God would have us make account, that our peace ends with our innocence. The same sin, that sets debate betwixt God and us, arms the creatures against us. It were pity we should be at any quiet, while we are fallen out with the God of peace.
1 Kings a i.
CONTEMPLATIONS.
BOOK XVIII.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
JAMES, LORD HAYE,
BARON OF SALEY, VISCOUNT DONCASTER, EARL OF CARLISLE,
ONE OF THE LORDS OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.
RIGHT HONOURABLE :
I CA NNO T but thus gratidate to you your happy return, from your many and noble employments ; which have made you some years a stranger at home ; and so renowned abroad, that all the better parts of Europe know and honour your name, no less than if you had been born theirs : neither is any of them so savage, as not to say, when they hear mention of your 'worth, that " Virtue is a thousand escutcheons.''
If now your short breathing-time may allow your Lordship the f reedom of quiet and holy thoughts, cast your eyes upon Israel and Judah ; upon the kings and prophets of both, in such beneficial variety, as profane history shall promise in vain. Your Lordship shall see Rehoboain following Solomon, in nothing but his seat and his fall ; as much more wilful than his father, as less wise; all head, no heart ; losing those ten tribes with a churlish breath, whom he would, and might not, recover with blood : Jeroboam as crafty, as wicked ; plotting a revolt ; creating a religion to his state ; marring Lsraelites to make subjects ; branded in his name ; smitten in his hand, in his loins. You shall see a faithful messen- ger of God, after miraculous proof of Ins courage, fidelity, power, good-nature, paying dear for a little circionstance of credulous disobedience ; the lion is sent to call for his blood, as the price of his forbidden harbour. You shall see the blind prophet descrying the disguise of a queen, the judgment of the king, the removal of a prince too good for Jeroboam'' s heir. You shall see the right stock of royal succession flourishing in Asa, while that true heir of David, though not without soine blemishes of infirmity, inherits a perfect heart ; purges his kingdom of sodomy, of idolatry ; not balking sin, even where he honoured nature. You shall see the wonder of ,prophets, Elijah, opening and shutting heaven, as his private cnest ; catered for by the ravens, nor less miraculously ca-
449 '
lering for the Sarepfan ; contesting with Ahab ; confronting the Baalites ,- speaking both fire and water, from heaven, in one even- ing ; meekly lacqueying his sovereign ; weakly flying from Jezebel ; fed supernaturally by angels ; hid in the rock of Horeb ; confirmed .by those dreadful apparitions, that had confounded some other; casting his mantle upon his homely successor, and, by the touch of that garment, turning him from a ploughman to a prophet. But what do I withhold your Lordship in the bare heads of this ensuing discourse ? In all these, your piercing eyes shall easily see beyond mine ; and make my thoughts but- a station for a further discovery : Your Lordship's observation hath studied men, more than books; here it shall study God, more than men : that of books, hath made you full; that of men, judicious ; this of God, shall make yen ho(y and happy : hilherto shall ever tend the wishes and endea- vours of
Your Lordship's humbly devoted
in all faithful observance,
JOSEPH HALL.
REHOBOAM.
Who would not but have looked, that seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines, should have furnished Solomon's palace with choice of heirs, and have peopled Israel with royal' issue? And now behold, Solomon hath by all these but one son, and him by an Ammonitess. Many a poor man hath a house full of chil- dren, by one wife ; while this great king hath but one son, by many housefuls of wives. Fertility is not from the means, but from the author. It was for Solomon, that David sung of old ; Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord; and the fruit of the womb is his reward. How oft doth God deny this heritage of heirs, where he gives the largest heritage of lands ; and gives most of these living possessions, where he gives least of the dead : that, his blessings m;-y be acknowledged free unto both ; entailed, upon neither !
As the greatest persons cannot give themselves children, so the wisest cannot give their children wisdom. Was it not of Ileho- boa.m that Solomon said, / hated all my labour which I had taken under the sun, because I should leave it unto the man that shall be after me ; and who knoweth, 'whether he shall be a wise man or a fffol ? J et he shall rule over all my labour, wherein I have laboured., and shewed myself wise, under the sun. All Israel found that So- lomon's wit was not propagated. Many a fool hath had a wiser son, than this wisest father. Amongst many sons, it is no news to find some one defective: Solomon hath but one son, and he no miracle of wisdom. God gives purposely so eminent an instance, to teach men to look up to heaven, both for heirs and graces.
Solomon was both the king of Israel and the father of Reho- boam, when he was scarce out of hi? childhood ; Rehoboam enters
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into the kingdom at a ripe age; yet Solomon was the man, ftricf Relioboam the child. Age is no just measure of wisdom. There arc beardless sages, and grey-headed children. Not the ancient are wise, but the wise is ancient.
Israel wanted not for thousands, that were wiser than Reho- boam ; yet, because they knew him to be the son of Solomon, no man makes question of his government. In the ease of succession into kingdoms, we may not look into the qualities of the person, but into the right.
So secure is Solomon of the people's fidelity to David's seed, that he follows not ids father's example, in setting his son by him, in his own throne : here was no danger of a rivalry, to enforce it ; no eminency in the son, to merit it : ic sutficeth him, to know that no bond can be surer, than the natural allegiance of subjects.
I do not find, that the following kings stood upon the confirma- tion of their people ; but, as those that knew the way to their throne, ascended their steps without aid. As yet the sovereignty of. David's house was green and unsettled; Israel therefore doth not now come to attend Relioboam, but Rehoboam goes up to meet Israel.
They come not to his Jerusalem, but he goes to their Shecheni : To Shechem -a cre all Israel come to make him king. If lovalty drew them together, why not rather to Jerusalem ? there, the ma- jesty of his father's temple, the magnificence of his palace, tlio very stones in those walls, besides the strength of his guard, had pleaded strongly for their subjection. Shechem had been, manv wavs, fatal; was, ever}: way, incommodious. It is an infinite help or disadvantage, that arises from circumstances. The very place puts Israel in mind of a rebellion. There, Abimelech had raised up his treacherous usurpation, over and against his brethren : there, Gaal against Abimelech : there, w as Joseph sold by his bre- thren : as if the very soil had been stained with perlidiousiu -.^ The time is no Jess ill chosen. Rehoboam had ill counsel, ere he bewrayed it • forbad he speedily called up Israel, before Jeroboam could have been sent for out of Egypt, he had found the way clear. A little delay may lose a great deal of opportunity. What shall we say of both, but that misery is led in by infatuation ?
Had not Israel been somewhat predisposed to a mutiny, they had never sent into Egypt, for such a spokesman as Jeroboam ; a fugitive, a traitor to Solomon. Lon^- had that crafty conspirator lurked in a foreign court. The alliances of princes are not ever necessary bonds of friendship. The brother-in-law of Solomon harbours this snake in his bosom, and gives that heat, which is re- paid with a sting, to the posterity of so near an ally. And now Solomon's death calls him back to his native soil. That Israel would entertain a rebel, it was an ill sign ; worse yet, that they w ill countenance him ; worst of all. that they would employ him. Nothing doth more bewray evil intentions, than the choice of vi- cious agents. Those, that mean well, will not hazard, either the success or credit of their actions upon otfeus^c instruments. None
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"bin the sluttish will wipe their faces with foul clothes. Upright hearts would have said, as David did to God, so to his anointed ; Do not I hate them, that hate thee? Yea, I hate than, witk a perfect haired. Jeroboam's head had been a fit present, to have been tendered unto their new king ; and now, instead thereof, they tender themselves to Jeroboam, as the head of their faction.
Had not Rehoboam wanted spirits, he had first, after Solomon's example, done justice to his father's traitor, and then have treated of mercy towards his subjects.
The people soon found the weakness of their new sovereign ; else they durst not have spoken to him by so obnoxious a tongue ; Thy father made our yoke grievous , make thou it lighter, and we Wat serve thee.
Doubtless the crafty head of Jeroboam was in this suit, which his mouth uttered in the name of Israel. Nothing could have been more subtle : it seemed a promise ; it was a threat. That, which seemed a supplication, was a complaint : humility was but a vail of discontentment : one hand held a paper-, the other, a sword. Had they said, " Free us from tributes," the capitulation had been gross, and strongly savouring of sedition : now they say; Ease usy they profess his power to impose, and their willingness to yield ; only craving favour in the weight of the imposition. If Rehoboam yield, he blemishes his father ; if he deny, he endangers his king- dom : his wilfulness shall seem worthily to abandon his sceptre, if he stick at so unreasonable a suit. Surely Israel came with a pur- )ose to cavil. Jeroboam had secretly troubled these waters, that ie might fish more gainfully : one malcontent is enough to embroil a whole kingdom.
How harshly must it needs sound in the cars of Rehoboam, that the first word he hears from his people, is a querulous challenge of his father's government ; Thy father made our yoke grievous !
for ought I see, the suggestion was not more spiteful, than un- just. Where was the weight of this yoke, the toil of the services ? Here were none of the turmoils of war : no trainings, marchings, encam pings, entrenching:., watchings, minings, sieges, fortifica- tions : none of that tedious world of work, that attends hostility. Solomon had not his name for nought. All was calm during that long reign ; and if they had paid dear for their peace, they had no cause to complain of a hard match. The warlike times of Saul and David had exhausted their blood, together with their sub- stance. What ingratitude was this, to cry out of case! " Yea, but that peace brought forth costly and laborious buildings. God's house and the king's, the walls of Jerusalem, Hazar, Megiddo, and Gezer, the cities of store, the cities of defence; could not rise without many a shoulder." True ; but not of any Israelites. The remainders of Amorites, Hittites, Pcrizzites, Un ites, and Jebusites, were put to all the drudgery of these great works. The tasks of Israel were easy and ingenuous ; free from servility, free from paiiifulness. " Hut the charge was theirs, whosesoever was the labour. The diet of so endless a retinue, the, attendance of his
452 CONTEMPLATIONS.
seraglio, the purveyance for his forty thousand stables, the cost of his sacrifices, must needs weigh heavy.'1 Certainly ; if it had lain o;i none but his ow n. But whelrefore went Solomon's navy every thrce.vears to Ophirr To what use served the six hundred three- ( score and six talents of gold, that came in one year to his exche- quer ? Wherefore served the large tributes of foreign nations? How did he make silver to he in Jerusalem as stones, if the exac- tions were so pressive r The multitude is over prone to pick quar- rels witii their governors; and, whom thev feared alive, to censure dead. The benefits of so quiet and happv a reign are past over in silence ; the grievances are recounted with clamour. Who can hope, that merit or greatness can shield from obloquy, when Solo- mon is traduced to his own loins ?
The proposition of Israel puis Rchoboam to a deliberation ; Depart ye for three days; then come again to me. I hear no other word of his, that argued wisdom. Not to give sudden reso- lutions in eases of importance, was a point that might well beseem the son of Solomon. 1 wonder that he, who had so much wit as to call for leisure, in his answer, should shew so little wit, in the improving of that leisure, in the return of that answer.
Who cannot but hope well, to see the grey heads of Solomon's secret council called to Kehoboam's cabinet r As counsellors, as ancient, as Solomon's, they cannot choose but see the best, the safest course, for their new sovereign. They had learned of their old master, that u soft answer appeaseth wrath ; wisely therefore do they advise him, //' thou wilt he a servant to this people this day, and speak good ivords to them, they will be thy servants for ever.
It was an easy condition ; with one mouthful of a breath, to purchase an everlasting homage ; with one gentle motion of his tongue, to bind ail people's hearts to his allegiance for ever. Yet, as if the motion had been unfit, a new council table is called. Well might this people say ; " What will not Kehoboam grudge us, if he think much to give good words for a kingdom r"
There is not more wisdom, in taking variety of advice, where the matter is doubtful, than folly, when it is plain. The young heads are consulted. This very change argues weakness. Some reason might be pleaded, for passing from the younger counsel to the aged ; none, for the contrary. Age brings experience ; and, it is a shame, if, with the ancient be not wisdom : youth is com- monly rash, heady, insolent, ungoverned, wedded to will, led by humour, a rebel to reason, a subject to passion, fitter to execute than to advise. Green wood is ever shrinking and warping ; where- as the well-seasoned holds a constant firmness.
Many a life, many a soul, many a nourishing state, hath been ruined by undisciplined monitors. Such were these of liehoboam; whose great stomach tells them, that this conditionating of subjects was no other than an affront to their new master ; and suggests to them, how unfit it is for majesty to brook so saucy a treaty, how requisite and princely to crush this presumption in the egg : as
RF.HOBO AM. 4-53
scorning therefore, to be braved by the base vulgar, they put words of greatness and terror in their new prirfCe ; My little jin'ger shall be thicker than my father's luins. My father made your yoke heavy ; I will add to your yoke. My father hath chastised you ■with whips ; I will chastise you with scorpions. The; very words have stings.
Now must Israel needs think, " How cruel will this man's hand be, when lie thus draws blood with his tongue ! Men are not wont to speak out their worst: who can endure the hopes of him, that promiseth tyranny ?" There can be no good use, of an indefinite profession of rigour and severity. Fear is an unsafe guardian of any state ; much less, of an unsettled. Which was yet worse ; not the sins of Israel were threatened, nor their purses, but their persons ; neither had they desired a remission of justice, but of exactions ; and now they hear of nothing but burdens, and scourges, and scorpions.
Here was a prince and people well met. I do not find them sensible of ought, save their own profit. They do not say, " Ret ligion was corrupted, in the shutting up of thy father's days. Idolatry found the free favour of priests, and temples, and sacri- fices. Begin thy reign with God ; purge the Church ; demolish those piles of abomination; abandon those idol-mongers ; restore devotion to her purity." They are all for their penny, for their case: lie, on the other side, is all for his will, for an imperious sovereignty ; without any regard, either of their reformation or satisfaction. They were worthy of load, that cared for nothing but their hacks; and he worthy of such subjects, who professed to affect their misery and torment.
Who would not but have looked any whither for the cause of this evil, rather than to heaven ? yet the holy God challenges it to himself; The cause was from the Lord, that he mil! ht. perform his saying by Abijah the Shilonite to Jeroboam. As sin is a punishment of sin, it is a part of justice. The Holy One of Israel doth not abhor, to use even the grossest sins to Ins own just purposes: while our wills are free to our own choice, his decrees are as ne- cessary as just. Israel had forsaken the Lord, and worshipped Ashtoreth, the goddess of the Zidonians, and Cheniosh, and Mil- corn. God owes them and Solomon a whipping : the frowardness of Rehoboam shall pay it them. I see Jeroboam's plot, the peo- ple's insolence, the young men's misudvicc, the prince's unrea- sonable austerity, meeting together, through the wise providence ot the Almighty, unwittingly to accomplish bis most just decree. All these might have done otherwise, for any force that was of- fered to their will; all would no more do otherwise, than if there had been no predetermination in heaven ; that God may be mag- nified m his wisdom and justice, while man wittingly perisheth in his folly.
That three days' expectation had warmed these smoking Isra- elites, and made them ready for a combustion. Upon so peivmyK tory a resolution' of rigour, the flame bunts dut, winch all the
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waters of the well of Bethlehem coukl ftever quench. The furious multitude flies out into a desperate revolt ; II hat portion have we zn David? neither have wc inheritance in the son of Jesse. To your tents, 0 Israel : now see to thine own house, J'avid.
How durst these seditious mouths mention David in defiance? One would have thought, that very name had been able to have tempered their fury, and to have contained them within the limits of obedience. It was the father of Rehoboam and the son of Da- vid, that had led Israel into idolatry : Solomon hath drawn con- tempt upon his father, and upon the son. If Israel have cast off their God, is it marvel that they shake oil his anointed ? Irrebgion is the way to disobedience. There can be no true subjection, but out of conscience. They cannot make conscience of civil duties, who make none of divine.
In vain shall Rehoboam hope to prevail by his officer, when himself is rejected. The persons of princes carry in them charac- ters of majesty : when their presence works not, how should that message If Adoram solicit the people too late with good words, they answer him witli stones. Nothing is more untractable and violt nt, than an enraged multitude. It was time for Rehoboam to betake himself to his chariot : he saw those stones were thrown at him, in his Adoram : as the messenger suffers for his master, so the master suffers in his messenger. Had Rehoboam been in Ado- ram's clothes, this death had been his. Only flight can deliver him, from those that might have been subjects. Jerusalem must be his refuge, against the conspiracy of Shechem.
Blessed be God, for lawful government. Even a mutinous body cannot want a head : if the rebellious Israelites have cast off their true sovereign, they must choose a false. Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, must be the man. He had need be skilful and sit sure, that shall back the horse, which hath cast his rider. Israel could not have any where met with more craft and courage, than they found in this leader.
Rehoboam returns to Jerusalem, lighter by a crown than he went forth.
Judah and Benjamin stick still fast to their loyalty : the cxam-
{jle of a general rebellion cannot make them unfaithful to the louse of David. God will ever reserve a remnant free from the common contagion. Those tribes, to approve their valour, no less than their fidelity, will fight against their brethren for their prince ; and will hazard their lives, to reduce the crown to the son of Solomon. A hundred and fourscore thousand of them arc up in arms, ready to force Israel to their denied subjection. No noise sounded, on both parts, but military : no man thought of any thing, but blood : when, suddenly, God sends his prophet, to forbid the battle. Shemaiah comes with a message of cessation ; l'e shall not go up, nor fight against your brethren, the children of Israel : return every man to his house ; for this thing is from .vie, saith the Lord. The word of one silly prophet dismisses these .mighty armies. He, that would not lay down the threats of his
JEROBOAM. 455
rigour, upon the advice of his ancient counsellors, will lay down his sword, upon the word of a seer. Shall we envy or shuiue tt> ) sec how much the prophets of the Old Testament eouid do; how little, those of the New? If our commission be no less from the same God, the difference of success cannot go away unrevenged.
There was yet some grace in llehoboam, that he would not spurn against that, which God challenged as his own work. Some godless ruffian would have said ; Whosoever is the author, I will be re- venged on the instruments.'" Rehoboam hath learned this lesson of his grandfather, / held my peace, because thou Ijird hast done it. If he might strive with the multitude, he knew it was no striving w ith his Maker : quietly therefore doth he lay down his arms; not daring after that prohibition; to seek the recovery of his kingdom by blood.
Where God's purposes are hid from -us, we must take the faired ways of all lawful remedies ; but where God hath revealed bis de- terminations, we must sit down in an humble submission : our struggling may aggravate, cannot redress our miseries.
1 Kings xii. 2 Chrcn. x.
JEROBOAM,
As there was no public and universal conflict, betwixt the ten tribes and the two, so no peace. Either king found reason to for- tify the borders of his own territories'.
Shechem was worthy to be dear to Jeroboam ; a city, as of old ■seasoned with many treasons, so now auspicious to his new usurpa- tion.
The civil defection was soon followed by the spiritual. As there are near respects betwixt God and his anointed, so there is great affinity betwixt treason and idolatry : there is a connexion, betwixt Fear (rod, and Honour the King ; and no less, betwixt the neg- lects of both. In vain shall a man look for faith in a misreligious heart.
Next to Ahitophel, I do not find, that Israel yielded a craftier head than Jeroboam's: so hath he plotted this conspiracy, that, whatever fall, there is no place for a challenge : not his own intru- sion, but Israel's election, hath raised him to their throne. Neither is his cunning le^s, in holding a stolen sceptre. Thus he thinks in himself ; " If Israel have made me theh? king, it is but a pang of discontentment: these violent thoughts will not last always: sud- den fits have commonly sudden recoveries. Their return to their loyalty shall forfeit my head, together with my crown : they can- not return to God, and hold off from their lawful sovereign : they cannot return to Jerusalem, and keep off from God, from their loyalty: thrice a year will their devotion call them up thither; besides the exigence of their frequent vows. How can they be mine;, while that glorious temple is in their eve; while the magni- ficence of the royal palace of David and Solomon snail admonish
456 CONTEMPLATIONS.
tliem of their native allegiance; while, besides the solicitation of their brethren, the priests and Levites shall preach to them the necessity of their due obedience, and the abomination of their sa- i | crifices in their wilful disobedience ; while they shall, by their pre- sence, put themselves upon the mercy or justice of their lawful and forsaken prince ? Either therefore, I must divert them from Jerusalem, or else I cannot live and reign. It is no diverting them by a direct restraint : such prohibition would both endanger their utter distaste, and whet their desire to more eagerness. I may change religion ; I may not inhibit it : so the people have a God, it sufficeth them. They shall have so much formality, as may content them. Their zeal is not so sharp, but they can be well pleased with ease. I will proffer them, both a more compendious and more plausible worship. Jerusalem shall be supplied within mine own borders. Naturally, men love to see the objects of their devotion ; I will therefore feed their eyes, with two golden repre- sentations of their God, nearer home ; and what can be more pro- per than those, which Aaron devised of old to humour Israel?"
Upon this pestilent ground, Jeroboam sets up two calves, in Dan and Bethel ; and persuades the people, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem ; behold thy gods, O Israel, which brought thee i out of the land of Egypt.
Oh the mischief that comes of wicked infidelity ! It was God's prophet, that had rent Jeroboam's garment into twelve pieces, and had given ten of them to him, in token of his sharing the ten tribes, who with the same breath also told him, that the cause of this distraction was their idolatry : yet now will he institute an ido- latrous service, for the hokling together of them, whom their ido- latry had rent from their true sovereign to him. He says not, >.
God hath promised me this kingdom; God hath conferred it; I God shall find means to maintain his own act : I will obey him ; « let him dispose of me : the God of Israel is wise and powerful enough, to fetch about his own designs :" but, as if the devices of men were stronger than God's providence and ordination, he will be working out his own ends by profane policies.
Jeroboam, being born an Israelite, and bred in the court of a Solomon, could not but know the express charge of God, against the making of images, against the erecting of any rival altars to that of Jerusalem ; yet now, that he sees both these may avail much to the advancing of his ambitious project, he sets up those images, those altars. Wicked men care not to make bold with God, in cases of their own commodity : if the laws of their Maker lie in the way of their profit or promotion, they either spurn them out, or tread upon them at pleasure : aspiring minds will know no God, but honour.
Israel sojourned in Egypt, and brought home a golden calf; Je- J roboam sojourns there, and brought home two. It is hard to dwell in Egypt untainted : not to savour of the sins of the place we live in, is no less strange, than for wholesome liquor tunned up in a musty vessel, not to smell of the cask. The best body may be
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infected in a contagious air. Let him beware of Egypt, that would be free from idolatry.
No sooner are Jeroboam' s calves up, than Israel is down on their knees: their worship follows immediately upon the erection. How easily is the unstable vulvar carried into whatsoever religion of authority ! The weathercock1 will look which way soever the wind blows. It is no marvel, if : i Is subjects be brutish, who hath made a calf his god.
Every accessary to sin is filthy, but the first authors of sin arc abominable. How is Jeroboam branded in every of these sacred leaves ! How do all ages ring of his fact, with the accent of disho- nour and indignation ; Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, that made Israel to sin ! It was a shame for Israel, that it could be made to sin by a Jeroboam ; but, O cursed name of Jeroboam, that would draw Israel to sin ! The followers and abettors of evil are worthy of torment ; but no hell is too deep, for the leaders of public wickedness.
Religion is clothed with many requisite circumstances. As a new king would have a new god, so that new god must have new tem- ples, altars, services, priests, solemnities : all these hath Jeroboam instituted ; all these hath he cast in the same mould with his golden calves. False devotion doth no.t more cross, than imitate, the true. Satan is no less a counterfeit, than an enemy, of God: he knows it more easy to adulterate religion, than to abolish it.
That, which God ordained for the avoidance of idolatry, is made the occasion of it ; a limitation of his holy services to Jeru- salem, How mischievously do wicked men pervert the wholesome institutions of God, to their sin, to their bane !
Jeroboam could not be ignorant, how fearfully this very act was revenged upon Israel, in the wilderness; yet he dares renew it in Dan and Bethel. No example of judgment can affright wilful of- fenders.
It is not the metal, that makes their gods, but the worship, the sacrifices. What sacrifices could there be without priests ? No religion could ever want sacred masters of divine ceremonies.
God's clergy was select and honourable ; branches of the holv stem of Aaron : Jeroboam rakes up his priests, out of the channel of the multitude; all tribes, all persons were good enough for his spurious devotion. Leaden priests are well fitted to golden deities. Religion receives either much honour or blemish, by the quality of those that serve at her altars. We arc not worthy to profess our- selves servants of the true God, if we do not hold his service wor- thy of the best.
Jeroboam's calves must have sacrifices, must have solemn festi- vities ; though in a day and month of his own devising. In vain shall we pretend to worship a god, if we grudge him the just days and rites of his worship.
It is strange, that he, who thought the dregs of the vulgar good enough for that priesthood, would grace those gods, by acting their priest himself; and yet behold where the new king, of Israel stands before his new altar, with a sceptre in one 1 and and a censer
45? C0NTEMPT..YTIOXS.
in the other, ready to sacrifice to his new gods; when the man of God comes from Judah, with a message of judgment.
Oh desperate condition of Israel, that was so far gone with im- piety, that it yielded not one faithful monitor to Jeroboam ! The time was, that the erecting of but a new altar (for memory, for monument,) on the other side of Jordan, bred a challenge to the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and Manassch ; and had cost much Isra- elitish blood, if the quarrelled tribes had not given a seasonable and pious satisfaction ; and now, lo, how the stronger stomach of tlegenerated Israel can digest new altars, new temples, new gods! What a difference there is, betwixt a church and kingdom newly brcathing from affliction, and settled upon the lees of a misused peace !
But oh the patience and mercy of our long-suffering God, that will not strike a very Jeroboam imwarned I Judgment hovers over the heads of sinners, ere it light. If Israel afford not a bold re- prover of Jeroboam, Judah shall. When the king of Israel is in all the height, both of his state and superstition, honouring his solemn day with his richest devotion, steps forth a prophet of God, and interrupts that glorious service, with a loud inclamation of judgment.
Doubtless, the man wanted not wit to know what displeasure, what danger, must needs follow so unwelcome a message; yet dares he, upon the commission of God, do this affront to an ido- kttrous king, in the midst of all his awful magnificence. The pro- phets of God go upon many a than k less errand. He is no messen- ger for God, that eitlier know s or fears the feces of men.
It was the altar, not the person, of Jeroboam, which the prophet thus threatens ; yet not the stones are stricken, but the founder, in both their apprehensions. So dear are the devices of our own brains to us, as if the}' were incorporated into ourselves. There is no opposition whereof we are so sensible, as that of religion.
That the royal altar Should be thus polluted, by dead men's bones and the blood of the priests, was not more unpleasing, than that all this should be done, by a child of the house of David ; for Jeroboam well saw, that the throne and the altar must stand or fall together; that a son of David could not have such power over the altar, without an utter subversion of the government, of the succession ; therefore is he thus ga'ied, with, this comminatory pre-, diction.
The rebellious people, who had said, What portion have we in David ? hear now , that David will perforce have a portion in them ; and might vvdl see, what beasts thev had made themselves, in wor- shipping the image of a beast, and sacrificing to such a god, as could not preserve his own altar from violation and ruin.
All this while,, I do not see this zealous prophet laying "his hand to the demolition of this idolatrous altar, or threatening a knife to the author of this depravation of religion : only his tongue smites both, not with foul, but sharp words ; of menace, not of reproach. It was for Josiah a king, to shed the blood of those sacrilicers, to
JEROBOAM. 45D
deface those altars: prophets «;rc for the tongue; princes for the hand : prophets must onlv denounce judgment: ; princes execute. ] Future things are present to the Eternal. It was some two Hun- dred and sixty years, ere this prophecy should be fulfilled ; yet the man of God speaks of it as now in acting. What are some cen- turies of years to the Ancient of Days ? How slow, and yet, how sure, is tiie pace of God's revenge ! It is not in the power of time, to frustrate God's determinations. There is no less justice nor severity, in a delayed punishment.
What a perfect record there is of all names, in the roll of hea- ven ; before they be, after they are past ! Whatever .eeining con- tingency there is in their imposition, yet they fall under the cer- tainty of a decree, and are better known in heaven ere they be, than on earth while they arc.
He, that knows what names we shall have before we or the world have a being, doth not often reveal tills piece of his know - ledge to his creature : here he doth ; naming the man, that should be two hundred years after ; for more assurance of the event, that Israel may sav, " I bis man speaks from a God who knows what shall be."
There cannot be a more sure evidence of a true Godhead, than the foreknowledge of those things, whose causes have yet no hope of being. But because the proof of this prediction was no more certain than remote, a present demonstration shall convince the future ; The altar shall rend in pieces, the ashes shall be scattered.
How amazedly must the seduced Israelites needs look upon this miracle! And why do they not think with themselves, " While these stones rend, why are our hearts whole ? Of what an over- riding power is the God whom we have forsaken, that can thus tear the altars of his co-rivals ! How shall we stand before his vengeance, when the very stones break at the word of his prophet f" Perhaps, some beholders were thus affected ; but Jeroboam, whom it most concerned, instead of bowing his knees for humiliation, stretcheth forth his hand for revenge, and cries, Lai/ hold on him. Resolute wickedness is impatient of a reproof; and* instead of yielding to the voice of God, rebclleth. Just and discreet reprehension doth not more reform some sinners, than exasperate others.
How easy it is for God, to cool the courage of proud Jeroboam! The hand, which his rage stretches out, dries up, and cannot be pulled back again : and now stands the king of Israel like some antique statue, in a posture of impotent endeavour ; so disabled to the hurt of the prophet, that he cannot command that piece of himself! What are the great potentates of the world, in the pow- erful hand of the Almighty ? Tyrants cannot be so harmful, a> they arc: malicious.
The strongest heart may be brought down with affliction. Now the stout stomach of Jeroboam is fallen to an humble deprecation ; Entreat now the face of the Lord thy God, and pray for me, thai my hand may be restored me again. It must needs he a great straight, that could drive a proud heart to beg mercy, where he
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
bent, his Persecution r so doth .Jeroboam; kofflihg it no scorn, to be beholding to an enemy. In extremities, the worst men can be content, to sue for favour, where they have spent their malice.
It well becomes the prophets of God to' be merciful. I do not' see this seer, to stand upon terms of exprobration and overly con- testations with Jeroboam ; to sav, " Thine intentions to me were cruel. Had thy hand prevailed, I should have sued to thee in vain. Continue ever a spectacle of the fearful justice of thy Maker, whom thou hast provoked by thine idolatry, whom thou wouldst have smitten in pay persecution." But he meekly sues for Jero- boam's release ; and, that God might abundantly magnify both liis power and mercy, is heard and answered with success. We do no whit savour of heaven, if we have not learned to do good for evil.
When both wind and sun, the blasts of judgment and the beams of favour, met together to work upon Jeroboam, who would not look, that he should have cast off his cumbrous and mis-beseem- ing cloke of his idolatry ; and have said, " Lord thou hast stricken me in justice; thou hast healed me in mercy: I will provoke thee no more: this hand:, which thou hast' restored, shall be consecrated to thee, in pulling down these bold abominations ?" Yet now, behold he goes on in his old courses ; and, as if God had neither done him good nor evil, lives and dies idolatrous. No stone is more hard or insensate, than a sinful heart. The changes of judgment and mercy do butobdure it, instead of melting.
1 Icings xii, xiii.
THE SEDUCED PHOPHET. Jeroboam's hand is amended ; his soul is not : th.it continues still dry and inflexible. Yet, while he is unthankful to the Author of his recovery, he is thankful to the instrument : he kindly invites the prophet, whom he had threatened •, and will remunerate him, whom he endeavoured to punish. The Worst men may be sensible of bodily favours : civil respects may well stand with gracelessness : many a one would be lib ral of their purses, if they might be al- lowed to be niggardly of their obedience.
As God, so his prophet, cares not for these waste courtesies, where he sees main duties neglected : more piety would have done well, with less compliment : the man of God returns a blunt and peremptory denial, to so bounteous an offer; Jf thou wilt give ■me half' thine house, 1 will not no in with thee, neither will I eat bread nor drink water in this place. Kindness is more safely done to an idolater, than taken from him: that, which is done to him, obligeth him ; that, which is taken from him, obligeth us : his ob- ligation to us, may beoccasion of his good ; our obligation to him, may occasion our hurt : the surest way is, to keep aloof from the infectiously wicked., • , . , „f ; . . .. on
The prophet is not uncivil, to reject the favour of a prince, without some reason. He yields.no reason of his refusal, but the command of his God,. God hath charged him, Eat no breadynor
THE SEDUCED PROPHET. 461
di ink Water, nor /urn ag tin by the same -way that thou earnest. It is not tor a prophet, to plead human or carnal grounds, for the actions of his function: ha may not move, but upon a divine warrant.
Would this seer have looked with the eyes of flesh and blood, he might have found many, arguments of his yieldance. " He is a king, that invite; me. , his reward, by enriching me, may benefit many ; and who knows, how much my further conversation may prevail to reform him ? How can he be but well prepared for good coilnsel, by a miraculous cure ? How gainfully should my receipt of a temporal courtesy be exchanged with a spiritual to him ! All Israel will follow him, either in idolatry or reformation : which way can be devised of doing so great service to God and the Church, as by reclaiming him ? what can yield so great likelihood of his reclamation, as the opportunity of mv further entireness with him ?'* But the prophet dares not argue cases, where he had a command. Whatever become of Jeroboam and Israel, God must be obeyed. Neither profit nor hopes may carry us cross to the word of our Maker. How safe had this seer been, if he had kept him ever upon this sure ward ; which he no sooner leaves, than he miscarries.
So deeply doth God detest idolatry, that he forbids his prophet to eat the bread, to drink the water, of a people infected with this sin ; vea, to tread in those very steps, which their feet have touched. If this inhibition were personal, yet the grounds of it are common. No pestilence should be more shunned, than the conver- sation of the mis-religious, or opcnlv scandalous : it is no thank to ys, if their familiarity do not enfeoff us of their wickedness.
I know not what to think of an old prophet that dwells in Bethel, within the air of Jeroboam's idol, within the ncise of his sacrifices; that lives, where the man of God dares not eat ; that permitted I us sons to be present at that idolatrous service. If he were a prophet of God, what did he now in Bethel? why did he wink at the sin of Jeroboam ? what needed a seer to come out of Judah, for the re- proof of that sin, which was acted under his nose ? why did he lie ? why did his family partake with idolaters ? If he were not a prophe of God, how had he true visions, how had he true messages from God ? why did he second the menacing word of that prophet, whom he seduced ? why did he desire, that his own bones might be honoured with his sepulchre f doubtless, he was a prophet of God ; but corrupt, resty, vicious.
Prophecy doth not always presuppose sanctification. Main a one hath had visions from God, who shall never enjoy the vision of God. A very Balaam, in his ecstasies, hath so clear a revelation of the Messiah to come, as scarce ever any of the holiest prophets ; yea, his very ass hath both her mouth miraculously opened and i>er eyes, to see and notify that angel, which was hid from hei master: yea, Satan himself sometimes receives notice from God of his future actions, which else that evil spirit cotdd neither foreU i nor foresee. These kinds of graces are both rare and common
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
rare, in that they are seldom given to any ; common, in that they are indifferently given to the evil and to the good. A little holiness k wort!) much illumination.
Whether out of envy, to hear that said by the seer of Judah which he either knew not or smothered, to hear that done by ano- ther which he could not have effected and could not choose but ad- mire; or, whether out of desire to make trial of the fidelity of so powerful a messenger ; the old prophet hastens to overtake, to re- eal, that man of God, who had so defied his Bethel : whom he finds sitting faint and weary under an oak, in the way ; taking the benefit of that shade, which he hated to receive from those contagious groves, that he had left behind him. His habit easily bewrayed him, to a man of his own trade ; neither doth his tongue spare to profess himself.
The old prophet of Bethel invites him to return, to a repast; and is answered with the same words, wherewith Jeroboam's offer was repelled. The man of God varies not a syllable from his message. It concerns us, to take good heed of our charge, who we go on God's errand>
A denial doth but invite the importunate. What he cannot do by entreaty, the old man tries to do by persuasion ; I am a pro- phet also, as thou art, and, an angel spake to me, by the word of the Lord, saying, Bring him baek mtk thee into thine houseT that he may eat bread and drink water. There is no temptation so dangerous, as that which comes shrouded under a veil of holiness,, and pretends authority of God himself. Jeroboam threatens, the prophet stands undaunted •, Jeroboam fawns and promises, the prophet holds constant : now comes a grey-headed seer and pleads a counter-message from God ; the prophet yields and transgresses. Satan may affright us as a fiend, but he seduces us as an angel of light.
Who would have looked for a liar, under hoary hairs and a holy mantle ? Who would not have trusted that gravity, when there was no colour of any gain in the untruth ? Nothing is so apt to deceive, as the fairest semblances, as the sweetest words. We cannot err, if we believe not the speech for the person, but the person for the speech.
Well might this man of God think "An aged man, a prophet, an old prophet, will not, sure, bely God unto a prophet. No man will forge a lie, but for an advantage. What can this man gain by this match, but the entertainment of an unprofitable guest ? Per- haps, though God will not allow me to feast with Jeroboam, yet, pitying my faintness, he may allow me to eat with a prophet. Perhaps, now that I have approved my fidelity in refusing the bread of Bethel, God thinks good to send me a gracious release of that strict charge. Why should I think that God's revelations are not as free to others, as to me ? And if this prophet have received a. countermand from an ahgel of God, how shall 1 not disobey God, if I do not follow him ?"
Vpon this ground, he returns with this deceitful host ; and,
TKE SEDUCED PROPHET.
4G3
when the meat was now in his mouth, receives the true message of death) from the same lips that brought him the false message of his invitation ; Thus saith the. Lord, Forasmuch as thvu hast dis- obeyed the mouth ef the Lord, and hast not kept the command- ment of the Lord thy dad, but earnest back and hast eaten bread, and drunk water t in the place forbidden thee, thy carcase shall not come to the sepulchre of thy fathers.
O woeful prophet ! When he looks on bis host, he sees his ex- ecutioner ; while he is feeding of his body, he hears of his carcase ; at the table, he hears of his denied sepulchre ; and all this for eat- ing and drinking where he was forbidden by God, though bidden as from God. The violation of the least charge of a God is mortal. No pretences can warrant the transgression of a divine command.
A word from God is pleaded on both sides : the one was re-' ceived immediately from God ; the other related mediately by man: one, the prophet was sure of; the other was questionable. A sure word of God may not be left, for an uncertain. An express charge of the Almighty admitteth not of any check. His will is but one, as himself is ; and therefore, it is out of the danger of con- tradiction.
Methinks, I see the man of God change countenance, at this sharp sauce of his pleasing morsel. His face before-hand is dyed with the paleness of death. Methinks, I hear him urging, manv unkind expostulations, with his injurious host: who yet dismissed him, better provided for the ease of his journey, than he found him. Perhaps this ofheiousness was out of desire, to make some amends for this late seducement. It is a poor reeompence, when lie hath betrayed his life and wronged the soul, to cast some cour- tesies upon the body.
The old Bethelite, that had taken pains to come and fetch the man of God into sin, will not now go back with hiin, to accom- pany his departure. Doubtless, he was afraid to be enwrapped in the judgment, which he saw hanged over that obnoxious head. Thus the mischievous guides of wickedness leave a man, when they have led him to his bane ; as familiar devils forsake their witches, when they have brought them once into fetters.
The man of God returns alone ; careful, no doubt, and pensive, for his offence ; when a lion out of the wood meets him, assaults him, kills him. Oh the just and severe judgments of the Almightv, who hath brought this fierce beast, out of his wild ranges into the highway., to be the executioner of his oMending servant !
Doubtless, this prophet was a man of great holiness, of singular fidelity, else he durst not have been God's herald, to carry a mes- sage of defiance to Jeroboam, king of Israel, in the midst of his royal magnificence ; vet now, for varying from but a circumstance of God's command, though upon the suggestion of a divine war- rant, is given for a prey to the lion. Our interest in God is so far from excusing our sin, that it aggravates it. Of all other-., the .sin of a prophet shall not pass unrevenged.
The very wild beasts are led by a providence. Their wi$e and
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
powerful Creator knows how to serve himself of them. The lions guard one prophet, kill another, according to the commission re- ceived from their Maker. What sinner can hope to escape unpu- nished, when every creature of God is ready to be an avenger of evil ? The beasts of the held were made to serve us; we, to serve our Creator*, When we forsake our homage to him that made us, it is no marvel, if the beasts forget their duty to us, and deal with us, not as masters, but as rebels.
When a holy man buys so dearly such a slight frailty, of a cre- dulous mistaking, what shall become of our heinous and presump- tuous sins r
I cannot think but this- prophet died in the favour of God, though by the teeth of the lion. His life was forfeited for example ; his soul was safe : yea, his very carcase was left, though torne, yet fair after those deadly grasps; as if God had said, " I will only take thy breath from thee, as the penalty of thy disobedience. A lion shall do that, which an apoplexy or fever might do. I owe thee no further revenge, than may be satisfied with thy blood.'1 Violent events do not always argue the anger of God. Even death itself is, to his servants, a fatherly castigation.
But oh, the unsearchable ways of the Almighty ! the man of God sins, and dies speedily : the lying prophet, that seduced him, survives: yea, wicked Jeroboam enjoys his idolatry, and treads upon the grave of his reprover. There is neither favour in the delay of stripes, nor displeasure in the haste : rather, whom God loves, he chastises, as sharply, so speedily, while the rest prosper to condemnation. Even the rod of a loving father may draw blcod. How much happier is it for us, that we die now, to live for ever, than that we live awhile to die ever !
Had this lion set upon the prophet for hunger, why did he not devour, as well as kill him ! Why did he not rather kill the beast, than the man ? since we know the nature of the lion such, that he is not wont to assail man, save in the extreme want of other prey. Certainly, the same power, that employed those fangs, restrained them ; that the world might see, it was not appetite, that pro- voked the beast to this violence, but the over-ruling command of God. Even so, O Lord, thy powerful hand is over that roaring lion, that goes about continually, seeking whom he may devour. Thine hand withholds him, that, though he may shed the blood of thine elect, yet he cannot hurt their souls; and, while he doth those things which thou pcrmittest, and orderest to thy just ends, yet he cannot do lesser things, which he desireth, and thou permit- test not.
The fierce beast stands by the carcase ; as to avow" his own act and to teil who sent him, so to preserve that body which he hath slain. Oh wonderful work of God! the executioner is turned guardian ; and, as the officer of the Highest, commands all other creatures to stand aloof from his charge ; and commands the fearful ass, that brought this burthen thither, not to stir thence, but stand ready pressed, to re-carry it to the sepulchre : and now, when he
Jeroboam's wife. 463 hath sufficiently witnessed to all passengers, that this act was not done upon his own hunger, but upon the quarrel of his Maker, he delivers up his charge to that old prophet, who was no less guilty of this blood than himself.
This old seducer hath so much truth, as both to give a right commentary upon God's intention in this act for the terror of the disobedient, and to give his voice to the certainty of that future judgment which his late guest had threatened to Israel. Some- times it pleaseth the wisdom of God, to express and justify himself, even by the tongues of faulty instruments. Withal, he hath so much faith and courage, as to fetch that carcase from the lion ; so much pity and compassion, as to weep for the man of God, to inter him in his own sepulchre ; so much love, as to wish himself joined in death to that bod}-, which he had hastened unto death. It is hard to find a man absolutely wicked. Some grace will bewray itself, in the most forsaken breasts.
It is a cruel courtesy, to kill a man, and then to help him to his grave ; to betray a man with our breath, and then to bedew him with our tears. The prophet had needed no such friend, if he had not met with such an enemy. The mercies of the wicked are cruel.
1 Kings xiii.
JEROBOAM'S WIFE. It is no measuring of God's favour, by the line of outward welfare. Jeroboam, the idolatrous usurper of Israel, prospers better, than the true heirs of David. He lives to see three successions in the throne of Judah. Thus the ivy lives, when the oak is dead.
Yet could not that misgotten crown of his keep his head always from aching : he hath his crosses too. God whips sometimes more than his own : his enemies smart from him, as well as his children ; his children in love, his enemies in judgment. Not simply the rod argues love, but the temper of the hand that wields it, and the back that feels it.
First, Jeroboam's hand was stricken ; now, his son. Abijah the eldest, the best son of Jeroboam, is smitten with sickness. As chil- dren are but the pieces of their parents in another skin, so parents are no less stricken in their children, than in their natural limbs. Jeroboam doth not more feel his arm, than his son. Not wicked men only, but beasts may have natural affections. It is no thank to any creature, to love his own.
Nature wrought in Jeroboam, not grace. He is enough troubled, with his sou's disease ; no whit bettered. I would have heard him say ; " God follows me with his afflictions. It is for mine im- piety. What other measure can I expect from his justice ? While mine idols stand, how can I look that my house should prosper ? I will turn from my wickedness ; O God, turn thou from thy wrath."
These thoughts were too good for that obdured heart. His
VOL. I. H H
466 CONTEMPLATIONS.
son is sick, he is sorrowful ; but as an amazed man seeks to go forth at the wrong door, his distraction sends him to a false help. He thinks not of God ; he thinks of his prophet : he thinks of the prophet, that had foretold him he should be a king; he thinks not of the God of that prophet, who made him a king. It is the pro- perty of a carnal heart, to confine both his obligations and his hopes to the means, neglecting the Author of good. Vain is the respect that is given to the servant, where the Master is contemned.
Extremity draws Jeroboam's thoughts to the prophet ; whom else he had not cared to remember. The king of Israel had divines enough of his own ; else he must needs have thought them mise- rable gods, that were not worth a prophet : and besides, there was an old prophet (if he yet survived) dwelling within the smoke of his palace, whose visions had been too well approved : why should Jeroboam send so far to an Abijah ? Certainly, his heart despised those base priests of his high places; neither could he trust, either to the gods or the clergy of his own making. His conscience rest5; upon the fidelity of that man, whose doctrine he had forsaken. How did this idolater strive against his own heart, while lie in- wardly despised those, whom lie professed to honour ; and in- wardly honoured them, whom he professed to despise ! Wicked breasts are false to themselves ; neither trusting to their own choice, nor making choice of that which they may dare to trust. They will set a good face upon their secretly unpleasing sins ; and would rather be self-condemned, than wise and penitent.
As for that old seer, it is like Jeroboam knew his skill, but doubted of his sinceritv. That man w as too much his neighbour to be good. Abijah's truth had been tried in a case of his own : he, whose word was found just in the prediction of his kingdom, was well worthy of credit in the news of his son. Experience is a great encouragement of our trust. It is a good matter to be faithful: this loadstone of our fidelity shall draw to us even hearts of iron, and hold them to our reliance ; as contrarily, deceit doth both ar- gue and make a bankrupt. Who can trust, where he is disap- pointed ? O God, so oft, so ever, have we found thee true in all thy promises, in all thy performances, that if we do not seek thee, if we do not trust thee in the sequel, we are worthy of our loss, worthy of thy desertions.
Yet I do not see, that Jeroboam sends to the prophet, for his aid, but for intelligence. Curiosity is guilty of this message, and not devotion. He calls not for the prayers, not for the benediction of that holy man, but for mere information of the event. He well saw what the prayers of a prophet couUI do. That, which cured his hand, might it not have cured his son ? Yet he, that said to a man of God, Entreat the face of the Lord thy God, that he may restore mjj hand, says not now in his message to Abijah, " Entreat thy God to restore my son." Sin makes such a strangeness be- twixt God and man, that the guilty heart either thinks not of suing to God, or fears it. What a poor contentment it was to foreknow that evil, which he couJd not avoid, and whose notice could but
jeroboam's wife. 467 hasten his misery ! Yet, thus fond is our restless curiosity, that it seeks ease, in the drawing on of torment. He is worthy of sorrow, that will not stay till it comes to him, but goes to fetch it.
Whom doth Jeroboam send on this message, but his wife ; and how, but disguised ! Why her, and why thus ? Neither durst he trust tins errand with another, nor with her in her own form. It was a secret, that Jeroboam sends to a prophet of God : none might know it, but his own bosom, and she that lay in it. If this had been noised in Israel, the example had been dangerous. Who would not have said, " The king is glad to leave his counterfeit deities, and seek to the true: why should we adhere to them, whom he forsakes ?"
As the message must not be known to the people, so she that bears it must not be known to the prophet; her name, her habit must be changed : she must put off her robes, and put on a russet coat ; she must put off the queen, and put on the peasant ; instead of her sceptre, she must take up a basket, and go a masked pil- grimage to Shiloh. Oh the fondness of vain men, that think to juggle with the Almighty, and to hide their councils from that all- seeing eye ! If this change of habit were necessary at Bethel, yet what needs it at Shiloh ? Though she would hide her face from her subjects, yet why should she not pull off her muffler, and shew her- self to the prophet ? Certainly, what policy began, guiltiness must continue. Well might she think, " There can be no good answer expected by the wife of Jeroboam. My presence will do no less, than solicit a reproof. No prophet can speak well, to the consort of a founder of idolatry. I may perhaps hear good, as another; though, a» myself, I can look for nothing, but tidings of evil." Wicked hearts know they deserve ill at God's hands ; and therefore they do all they can, to avoid the eyes of his displeased justice ; and if they cannot do it by colours of dissimulation, they will do it by hnploration of shelter : they shall say to the rocks, Fall on us, and cover us.
But oh the gross folly mixed with the craft of wickedness ' Could Jeroboam think that the prophet could know the event of his son's disease, and did he think that he could not know the dis- guise of his wife ? The one was present, the other future ; this was but w rapped in a clout, that event was wrapped up in the coun- cil of God : yet this politic head presumes, that the greater shall be revealed, where the lesser shall be hid. There was never wicked man, that was not infatuate ; and in nothing more, than in those things wherein he hoped most to transcend the reach of others.
Abijah, shunning the iniquity of the times, was retired to a soli- tary corner of Shiloh. No place could be too private for an ho- nest prophet, in so extreme depraved ness : yet even there, doth the king of Israel take notice of his reclusion ; and sends his wife to that poor cell, laden with presents ; presents, that dissembled their bearer. Had she offered jewels or gold, her greatness had LtL-n suspected: now she brings loaves, and cracknels, and honey,
CM CONTEMPLATIONS.
her hand answers her back. She gives as she seems, not as she is. Something she must give, even when she acts the poorest client.
The prophets of God were not wont to have empty visitations. They, who hated bribes, yet refused not tokens of gratitude. Yea, the God of Heaven, who neither needs our goods nor is capable of our gratifications, yet would have no man to come to him giftless. Woe to those sacrilegious hands, that, instead of bringing to the prophets, carry from them !
Jeroboam was a bad man ; yet, as he had a towardly son, so he had an obedient wife ; else she had not wanted excuses, to turn off both the journey and the disguise. Against the disguise, she had pleaded the unbeseemingness for her person and state ; against the journey, the perils of so long and solitary a walk. Perhaps a lion might be in the way ; the lion that tore the prophet in pieces : perhaps, robbers : or, if not they, perhaps her chastity might be in danger; an unguarded solitariness in the weaker sex, might be a provocation to some forced uncleanness. She cast off all these shifting projections of fear. According to the will of her husband, she changes her raiment ; she sets upon the journey, and over- comes it.
What needed this disguise to an old prophet, whose dim eyes were set with age ? All clothes, all faces were alike to a blind seer. The visions of Abijah were inward ; neither was his bodily sight more dusky, than the eyes of his mind were clear and piercing. It was not the common light of men whereby he saw, but divine illu- mination. Things absent, things future, were no less .obvious to those spiritual beams, than present things are to vis. Ere the quick eyes of that great lady can discern him, he hath espied Ijer ; and as soon as he hears the sound of her feet, she hears from him the sound of her name ; Coyne in, thou wife of Jeroboam. How God laughs in heaven, at the frivolous fetches of crafty politicians; and, when they think themselves most sure, shames them with a detection, with a defeat ! What an idleness it is, for foolish hypocrites to hope they can dance in a net, unseen of heaven !
Never before was this queen troubled, to hear of herself: now, she is. Her very name strikes her with astonishment, and prepares her for the assured horror of following judgments ; I am sent to thee with heavy tidings : Go, tell Jeroboam, Thus saith the Lord God of Israel.
Could this lady less wonder at the mercy of this style of God, than tremble at the sequel of his justice? Co, Israel hath forsaken God ; yet God still owns Israel : Israel hath gone a whoring ; yet God hath not divorced her ! O the infinite goodness of our long- suffering God, whom our foulest sins cannot rob of his compas- sions !
By how much dearer Israel was to God, so much more odious, is Jeroboam, that hath marred Israel. Terrible is that vengeance, which God thunders against him by his prophet; whose passionate message upbraids him with his promotions, chargeth him with his
jeroboam's wife. 4G9 sins, and lastly denounceth his judgments. No mouth was fitter, to cast this royalty in the teeth of Jeroboam, than that by which it was first foretold, forepromised. Every circumstance of the ad- vancement aggravates the sin. " / exalted thee : thou couldest not rise to honour alone. / exalted thee, from among the people,- not from the peers : thy rank was but common, before this rise. / exalted thee, from among the people, to be a prince : subordinate height was not enough for thee : no seat would serve thee, but a throne. Yea, to be a prince of my people Israel : no nation was for thee, but my chosen one ; none, but my royal inheritance. Neither did I raise thee into a vacant throne ; a forlorn and forsaken principality might be thankless; but I rent the kingdom away from another, for thy sake ; yea, from what other, but the grandchild of David ? Out of his hands did I wrest the sceptre, to give it into thine." Oh what high favours doth God sometimes cast away, upon unworthy subjects ! How do his abused bounties dou- ble both their sin and judgment ! The sins of this prince were no less eminent, than his obligations ; therefore his judgments shall be no less eminent, than his sins.
How bitterly doth God express that, which shall be more bitter in the execution! Behold, I will bring evil upon the house of Je- roboam, and will cut off from Jeroboam, every male, and him that is shut up and left in Israel, and will take away the rem- nant of the house of Jeroboam, as a man taketh away dung, till it be all gone : him that dieth of Jeroboam in the city, shall the dogs eat ; and him that dieth in the field, shall the fowls of the air eat.
Oh heavy load, that this disguised princess must carry to her husband ! But because these evils, though grievous, yet might be remote ; therefore, for a present handsel of vengeance, she is dis- missed with the sad tidings of the death of her son ; When thy feet enter into the city, the child shall die. It is heavy news for a mother, that she must lose her son ; but worse yet, that she may not see him. In these cases of our final departures, our
fjresence gives some mitigation to our grief. Might she but iave closed the eyes, and have received the last breath of her dy- ing son, the loss had been more tolerable. I know not how our personal farewell eases our heart, even while it increases our passion. But now, she shall no more see, nor be seen of her Abijah : she shall no sooner be in the city, than he shall be out of the world. Yet, more to perfect her sorrow, she hears, that in him alone there is found some good ; the rest of her issue are grace- less : she must lose the good, and hold the graceless : he shall die. to afflict her; they shall live to afflict her.
Yet, what a mixture is here of severity and favour, in one act ; favour to the son, severity to the Father : severity to the father, that he must lose such a son ; favour to the son, that he shall be taken from such a father ! Jeroboam is wicked, therefore lie shall not enjoy an Abijah ; Abijah hath some good things, therefore he shall be removed fiom the danger of the depravation of Je-
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roboam. Sometimes God strikes in favour, but more often for- bears out of severity. The best are fittest for heaven ; the earth is fittest for the worst : this is the region of sin and miser v ; that, of immortality. It is no argument of disfavour, to be taken early from a well-led life ; as not of approbation, to age in sin.
As the soul of Ahijah is favoured in the removal, so is his body with a burial. He shall have alone, both tears and tomb : all the rest of his brethren shall have no grave, but dogs and fowls ; no sorrow, but for their life. Though the carcase be insensible of an)' position, yet honest sepulture is a blessing. It is fit the body should be duly respected on earth, whose soul is glorious in heaven.
1 Kings xiv.
ASA.
The two houses of Judah and Israel grow up now together, in an ambitious rivalry. This splittcd plant branches out so severally, as if it had forgotten, that ever it was joined in the root.
The throne of David oft changeth the possessors ; and more complaineth of their iniquity, than their remove.
Abijam inherits the sins of his father Rehoboam, no less than hib crown ; and so spends his three years, as if he had been no whit a kin to his grandfather's virtues. It is no news, that grace is not traduced, while vice is. Therefore is his reign short, because it was* wicked.
It was a sad case, when both the kings of Judah and Israel, though enemies, yet conspired in sin. Rehoboam, like his father Solomon, began graciously, but fell to idolatry. As he followed his father, so his son, so his people followed him. Oh, what a face of a Church was here, when Israel worshipped Jeroboam's calves ; when Judah built them high places, and images, and groves on every high hill, and under every green tree ! On both hands, GOD is forsaken, his temple neglected, his worship adulterate ; and this, not for some short brunt, but during the succession of two kings: for, after the first three years, Rehoboam changed his father's reli- gion (as his shields) from gold to brass ; the rest of his seventeen years were led in impiety. His son Abijam trod in the same miry steps, and Judah with them both. If there were any (doubtless there were some) faithful hearts, yet remaining in both kingdoms, during these heavy times, what a corrosive it must needs have been to them, to see so deplored and miserable a deprivation !
There was no visible Church upon earth, but here ; and this, what a one ! O God, how low dost thou sometimes suffer thine own flock to be driven ! What woeful wanes and eclipses, hast thou ordained for this heavenly bodv ! Yet at last, an Asa shall arise from the loins, from the grave, of Abijam. He*shall revive David, and reform Judah. The gloomy times of corruption shall not last always. The light of truth and peace shall at length break out, and bless the sad hearts of the righteous.
It is a wonder how Asa should be good, of the seed of Abijam, of the soil of Maachah ; both wicked, both idolatrous. God would
ASA. 471
have us see, that grace is from heaven ; neither needs the help of these earthly, conveyances. Should not the children of good pa- rents sometimes be evil, and the children of evil parents good, virtue would seem natural, and the giver would lose his thanks. Thus we have seen a fair flower spring out of dung, and a well- fruited tree rise out of a sour stock. Education hath no less power to corrupt, than nature : it is therefore the just praise of Asa, that, being trained up under an idolatrous Maachah, he maintained his piety ; as contrarily, it is a shame for those, that have been bred up in the precepts and examples of virtue and godliness, to fall off to lewdness or superstition.
There are four principal monuments of Asa's virtue, as so many rich stones in his diadem.
He took away sodomy and idols out of Judah. Who cannot wonder more, that he found them there, than that he removed them ? What a strange incongruity is this; Sodom, in Jerusalem ! Idols, in Judah ! Surely, debauched profession proves desperate. Admit the idols; ye cannot doubt of the sodomy. If they have changed the glory of the incorruptible God, into an image, made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and Jour-footed beasts, and creeping things, it is no marvel, if God give them up to unclean- ness, through the lusts of their own hearts, to dishonour their own bodies, between themselves. If they changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the Cre- ator, who is blessed for ever, no marvel, if God give them up to vile affections, to change the natural use, into that which is against na- ture; burning in lust one towards another, men with men working that which is unseemly, Contrarily, admit the sodomy, ye cannot doubt of the idols. Unnatural beastliness in manners is punished justly, with a sottish dotage in religion ; bodily pollution, with spiritual. How should the soul care to be chaste, that keeps a stew in the body ! Asa begins with the banishment of both ; scouring Judah of this double unclcanncss. In vain should he have hoped to restore God to his kingdom, while these abominations inhabited it. It is justly the main care of worthy and religious princes, to clear their coasts of the foulest sins. Oh the impartial zeal of Asa! There were idols, that challenged a prerogative of favour; the idols that his father had made : all these he defaces. The name of a father cannot protect an idol. The duty to his parent cannot win him to a liking, to a forbearance of his misdevotion. Yea, so much the more doth the heart of Asa rise against these puppets, for that they were the sin, the shame, of his father. Did there want, think we, some courtier of his father's retinue, to say, " Sir, fa- vour the memory of him that begot you ; you cannot demolish these statues, without the dishonour of the erector: hide your dis- like at the least : it will be your glory to lay your finger upon this blot of your father's reputation : if .you list not to allow his act, yet wink at it?" The godly zeal of Asa turns the deaf ear to these monitors ; and lets them see, that he doth not more honour a fa- ther, than hate an idol. No dearness of person should take off the
472
CONTEMPLATIONS.
edge of our detestation of the sin. Nature is worthy of forgetful- ness and contempt, in opposition to the God of nature.
Upon the same ground as he removed the idols of, his father Abijam, so for idols he removed his grandmother Maachah : she would not be removed from her obscene idols ; she is therefore re- moved from the station of her honour, j. hat princess had aged, both in her regency and superstition. Under her rod, was Asa brought up ; and schooled, in the rudiments of her idolatry. Whom she could not infect, she hoped to overawe ; so as, if Asa will not follow her gods, yet she presumes that she may retain her own. Doubtless, no means were neglected for her reclamation ; none would prevail. Religious Asa gathers up himself ; and begins to remember, that he is a king, though a son ; that she, though a mo- ther, yet is a subject ; that her eminence could not but counte- nance idolatry ; that her greatness suppressed religion, which he should in vain hope to reform, while her superstition swayed : for- getting therefore the challenges of nature, the awe of infancy, the Custom of reverence, he strips her of that command, which he saw prejudicial to his M^ker. All respects of flesh and blood must be trampled on, for God. Could that long-settled idolatry want abet- tors ? Questionless, some or other would say, " This was the reli- - gion of your father Abijam ; this, of your grandfather Rehoboam; this, of the latter days of your wise and great-grandfather Solo- mon; this, of your grandmother Maachah; this, of your great- grandmother Naaman ; why should it not be yours? Why should you suspect either the wisdom, or piety, or salvation of so many predecessors ?" Good Asa had learned to contemn prescription against a direct law. He had the grace to know, it was no measur- ing truth by so modern antiquity. His eyes, scorning to look so low, raise up themselves to the uncorrupt times of Solomon, to David, to Samuel, to the Judges, to Joshua, to Moses, to the Patriarchs, to Noah, to the religious founders of the first world, to the first father of mankind, to Paradise, to Heaven. In com- parison of these, Maachah's god cannot overlook yesterday. The ancientest error is but a novice to truth; and, if never any ex- ample could be pleaded for punty of religion, it is enough that the precept is cxpi'ess. He knew what God said in Sinai, and wrote in the tables ; Thou shall not make to thyself any graven image, nor any similitude. Thou shalt not bow dnxvn to them, nor worship them. If ail the world had been an idolater, ever since that word was given, he knew how little that precedent could avail for disobedience. Practice, must be corrected by law, and not the law yield to practice. Maachah therefore goes down from her seat; her idols from their grove : she to retircdness ; they to the fire, and from thence to the water. Woeful deities 1 that could both burn and drown.
Neither did the zeal of Asa more magnify itself, in these privative acts of weeding out the corruptions of religion, than in the posi- tive acts of a holy plantation. In the falling of thc.-c idolatrous shrines, the temple of God flourishes. That doth he furnish, with
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473
those sacred treasures, which were dedicated by himself, by his progenitors. Like the true son of David, he would not serve God cost-free. Jtehoboam turned Solomon's gold into brass ; Asa turns Rehoboam's brass into gold. Some of these vessels, it seems, Abijam, Asa's father, had dedicated to God ; but, after his vow, inquired, yea, withheld them : Asa, like a good son, pays his fa- ther's debts, and his own. It is a good sign of a well-meant devo- tion, when we can abide it chargeable; as contrarily, in the af- fairs of God, a niggardly hand argues a cold and hollow heart.
All these were noble and excellent acts ; the extirpation of so- domy ; the demolition of idols ; the removal of Maachah ; the bounteous contribution to the Temple : but that, which gives true life unto all these, is a sound root ; Asa's heart was perfect -with the Lord, all his days. No less laudable works than these have proceeded from hypocrisy ; which, while they have carried away applause from men, have lost their thanks with God. All Asa's gold was but dross, to his pure intentions.
But oh, what great and many infirmities may consist with up- rightness ! What allays of imperfection will there be found, in the most refined soul ! Four no small faults are found in true-hearted Asa.
First, the high places stood still, unremoved. What high places? There were some dedicated to the worship of false gods ; these, Asa took away : there were some misdevoted to the worship of the true God ; these, he lets stand. There was gross idolatry in the former ; there was a weak will- worship in the latter. While he opposes impiety, he winks at mistakings. Yet even the variety of altars was forbidden, by an express charge from God, who had confined his service to the Temple. With one breath, doth God report both these ; The high places were not removed ; yet, never- theless, Asa's heart was perfect. God will not sec weaknesses, where he sees truth. How pleasing a thing is sincerity, that, in favour thereof, the mercy of our just God digests many an error! O God, let our hearts go upright, thoug;h our feet slide: the fall cannot, through thy grace, be deadly, however it may shame or pain us.
Besides, to confront his rival of Israel, Baasha, this religious king of Judah fetches in Benhadad, the king of Syria, into God's inheritance, upon too dear a rate ; the breach of his league, the expilation of the temple. All the wealth wherewith A.sa had en- dowed the house of the Lord, was little enough to hire an luloin- ite, to betray his fidelity and to invade Israel. Leagues may be made with infidels ; not at such a price, upon such terms. There can be no warrant, for a wilful subornation ofperfidiousncss. In these cases of outward tilings, the mercy of God dispenseth with our true necessities, not with the affcct/exl. O Asa, where w;»s thy piety, white thou r^hbest God, to corrupt an infidel for the slaughter of Israelites ? O princes, where is your piety, while you hire Turks to the slaughter of Christians ? to the spoil of God's Church ?
Yet, which was worse, Asa doth not only employ the Syrian, but
474 CONTEMPLATIONS.
relies on him ; relies not on God. A confidence less sinful cost his grandfather David dear. And when Hanani, God's seer, the herald of heaven, came to denounce war against him for these sins, Asa, instead of penitence, breaks into choler : fury sparkles in those eyes, which should have gushed out with water : those lips, that should have called for mercy, command revenge. How ill do these two agree, the heart of David, the tongue of Jero- boam ! That h©ly grandfather of his would not have done so : when God's messenger reproved him for sin, he condemned it, and himself for it : I see his tears ; I do not hear his threats. Jt ill be- comes a faithful heart to rage, where it should sorrow ; and, in- stead of submission, to persecute. Sometimes, no difference ap- pears, betwixt a son of David and the son of Nebat. Any man may do ill, but to defend it, to outface it, is for rebels; yet even upright Asa imprisons the prophet, and crushes his gainsayers. It were pity, that the best man should be judged by every of his ac- tions, and not by all. The course of our life must either allow or condemn us ; not these sudden eruptions.
As the life, so the death-bed of Asa wanted not infirmities. Long and prosperous had his reign been : now, after forty years' health and happiness, he, that imprisoned the prophet, is imprisoned in his bed. There is more pain in those fetters which God put upon Asa, than those which Asa puts upon Hanani. And now, behold, he, that in his war seeks to Benhadad, not to God, in his sickness seeks not to God, but to physicians. We cannot easily put upon God a greater wrong, than the alienation of our trust. Earthly means are for use, not for confidence. We may, we must employ them ; we may not rely upon them. Well may God challenge our trust, as his peculiar ; which, if we cast upon any creature, we de- ify it. Whence have herbs, and drugs, and physicians their being and efficacy, but from that divine hand ? No marvel, then, if Asa's gout struck to his heart, and his feet carried him to his grave ; since his heart was miscarried for the cure of his feet, to an inju- rious misconfidence in the means, with neglect of his Maker.
1 Kings xv. 2 Chron. xiv, xvA xvi.
ELIJAH WITH THE SAREPTAN. Who should be matched with Moses in the hill of Tabor, but Eli- jah ? Surely next after Moses, there was never any prophet of the Old Testament more glorious than he.
None more glorious ; none more obscure. The other prophets are not mentioned without the name of their parent, for the mu- tual honour both of the father and the son; Elijah, as if he hud been a son of the earth, conies forth with the bare mention of the place of bis birth. Meanness of descent is no block in God's way, to the most honourable vocations. It mutters not whose son lie be, whom God will grace with his service. In the greatest ho- nours that human nature is capable of, God forgets our parents: as, when we shall be raised up to a glorious life, there shall be no
ELIJAH WITH THE SAHEPTAN. 475
respect had to the loins whence we came, so it is proportionally in these spiritual advancements.
These times were fit for an Elijah : an Elijah was fit for them. The eminentest prophet is reserved for the corruptest age. Israel had never such a king as Ahah, for impiety ; never so miraculous a 'prophet as Elijah : this Elijah is addressed to this Ahah. The God of Spirits knows how to proportion men to the occasions ; and to raise up to himself such witnesses, as may be most able to enn- vi'ice the world : a mild Moses was for the low estate of afflicted Israel; mild of spirit, but mighty in wonders; mild of spirit, be- cause he had to do with a persecuted, and yet a techy and perverse people ; mighty in wonders, because he had to do with a Pharaoh : a grave and ioly Samuel was for the quiet consistence of Israel : a fiery spirited Elijah was for the desperatest declination of Israel : anil if, in the late times of the depraved condition of his Church, God have raised up some spirits, that have been more warm and stirring than those of common mould, we cannot censure the choice, when we see the service.
The first word, that we hear from Elijah, is an oath, and a threat to Aliab, to Israel ; As the Lord God of Israel liveth, before -whom I stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word. He comes in like a tempest, who went out in a whirl- wind. Doubtless, he had spoken fair and peaceable invitations to Israel, though we hear them not : this was but the storm, which followed his repulse, their obstinacy. After many solicitations and warnings, Israel is stricken by the same tongue that had prayed for it.
Elijah dares avouch these judgments to their head, to Ahab. I do not so much wonder at the boldness of Elijah, as at his power j yea, who sees his power, can no whit wonder at his boldness. How could he be but bold to the face of a man, who was thus powerf u with God !
As if God had lent him the keys of heaven, to shut it up and open it at pleasure, he can say, There shall be ?ieither dew nor rain these years, but according to my word. O God, how far it hath pleased thee to communicate thyself to a weak man ! What angel could ever say thus ? Thy hand, O Eord, is not shortened. Why art thou not thus marvellous, in the ministers of thy Gospel r Is it, for that their miracles were ours ? Is it, for that thou wouldes' have us live by faith, not by sense ? Is it, for that our task is spiritual, and therefore more abstracted from bodily helps ? We cannot com- mand the sun wijdi Joshua, nor the thunder with Samuel, nor the rain with Elijah : it shall content us, if we can fix the Sun of Righ- teousness in the soul ; if we can thunder out the judgments of God against sin ; if we can water the earthen hearts of men, with the former and latter rain of heavenly doctrine.
Elijah's mantle cannot make him forget his flesh. While he knows himself a prophet, he remembers to be a man ; he doth not therefore arrogate his power as his own, but publisheth it as his Master's. This restraint must be according to his word; and that
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word was from a higher mouth than his. He spake from him, by whom he sware, whose word was sure as his life ; and therefore he durst say, As the Lord Hveth, there shall be no rain. Man only can denounce, what God will execute ; which, when it is once re- vealed, can no more fail, than the Almighty himself.
He, that had tliis interest and power in heaven, what needed he flee from an earthly pursuit ? Could his prayers restrain the clouds, and not hold the hands of flesh and blood ? Yet behold, Elijah must flee from Ahab, and hide him by the brook Cherith. The wisdom of God doth not think fit, so to make a beaten path, of miracles, as that he will not walk beside it. He will have our own endeavours concur to oar preservation. Elijah wanted neither courage of heart nor strength of hand, and yet he must trust to his feet for safety. How much more lawful is it for our impotence, to flee from persecution ! Even that God sends him to hide his head, who could as easily have protected as nourished him. He, that wilfully stands still to catch dangers, tempteth God, instead of trusting him.
The prophet must be gone ; not without order taken for his pur- veys nee. Oh the strange caterers for Elijah ; J have commanded the ravens to feed thee there. I know not whether had been more miraculous, to preserve him without meat, or to provide meat by such mouths. The raven, a devouring and ravenous fowl, that uses to snatch away meat from others, brings it to him. He, that could have fed Elijah by angels, will feed him by ravens. There was then in Israel a hospitable Obadiah, that kept a secret table in two several caves, for a hundred prophets of God. There were seven thousand faithful Israelites, in spite of the devil, who had never bowed knee to Baal. Doubtless, any of these would have had a rencher ready for Elijah : and have thought himself happy, tn have defrauded his own maw, for so noble a prophet. God ra- ther chooses, to make use of the mo^t unlikely fowls of the air, than their bounty ; that he might give, both to his prophet and us, a pregnant proof of his absolute command over all his creatures, and win our trust in all extremities. Who can make question of the provisions of God, when he sees the very ravens shall forget their own hunger, and purvey for Elijah ? O God, thou, that providest meat for the fowls of the air, wilt make the fowls of the air provide meat for man, rather than this dependance on thee shall be disap- pointed. Oh let not our faith be wanting to thee ; thy care can never be wanting to us.
Elijah might have lived for the time, with bread and water ; nei- ther had his fare been worse, than Ins fellows in the caves of Oba- diah : but the munificence of God will have his meals better fur- nished: the ravens shall bring him both bread and flesh, twice in the day.
It is not for a persecuted prophet, to long after delicacies. God gives order for competency ; not for wantonness. Not out of the eainty compositions in Jezebel's kitchen, not out of the pleasant wines in her cellar, would God provide for Elijah ; but the ravens
ELIJAH WITH THE SAREPTAN. 477
shall bring him plain and homely victuals, and the river shall afford him drink. If we have wherewith to sustain nature, though not to pamper it, we owe thanks to the giver. Those of God's family may not be curious ; not disdainful. Ill doth it become a servant of the highest, to be a slave to his palate. Doubtless, one bit from the mouth of the raven was more pleasing to Elijah, than a whole table-full of Ahab. Nothing is more comfortable to God's chil- dren, than to see the sensible demonstrations of the divine care and providence.
The brook Cherith cannot last always. That stream shall not, for Elijah's sake, be exempted from the universal exsiccation ; yea the prophet himself feels the smart of this drought, which he had denounced. It is no unusual thing with God, to suffer his own dear children to be inwrapped in the common calamities of of- fenders. He makes difference, in the use and issue of their stripes; not in the infliction. The corn is cut down with the weeds, but to a better purpose.
When the brook fails, God hath a Zarephathfor Kiijah : instead of the ravens, a widow shall there feed him ; yea, herself by him. Who can enough wonder, at the pitch of this selective providence of the Almighty ! Zarephath was a town of Sidon, and therefore without the pale of the Church. Poverty was the best of this wi- dow : she was a pagan, by birth ; heathenishly superstitious, by institution. Many widows were in Israel, in the days of Elijah, •when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, when great famine was throughout all the land, but unto none of them was Elias sent, save unto this Sarepia, a city of Sidon, unto a wo- man that was a widow. He, that first fed the prophet by the mouth of unclean fowls, will now feed him by the hand of a hea- thenish hostess. Hisonly command sanctifiesthose creatures, which by a general charge, were legally impure.
There were other birds, besides ravens ; other widows, besides this Sareptan : none but the ravens, none but the Sareptan, shal nourish Elijah. God's choice. is not led in the string of humai reasons. His holy will is the guide, and the ground, of all as elections. It is not in him that wills, nor in him that runs, but n God that shews mercy.
The prophet follows the call of his God. The same hand, tlat brought him to the gate of Sarepta, led also this poor widow ait of her doors. She shall then go to seek her sticks, when she slali be found of Elijah. She thought of her hearth ; she thought lot of a prophet : when the man of God calls to her, Eetch me a title, water, I pray thee, in a vessel, that I may drink. It was - no eisy suit, in so droughty a season ; and yet, at the first sight, the p'o- phet dares second it with a greater ; Bring me a morsel of br.ad in thine hand. That long drought had made every drop, every » crumb precious ; yet the prophet is emboldened, by the charge of God, to call for both water and bread. He had found the raveis so officious, that he cannot make doubt of the Sareptan. She sicks not at the water ; she would not stick at the bread, if necessity
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had not pressed her; As the Lord thy God fiveik, I have 7iot a cake, but a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse ; and behold, I am gathering txco sticks, that I may go in and dress it, for me and my son, that xcr may eat it and die.
If she knew not the man, how did she know his God ? And if she knew not the God of Elijah, how did she swear by him ? Cer- tainly, though she were without the bounds of Israel, yet she was within the borders. So much she had gained by her neighbourhood, to know an Israelite, a prophet by his habit ; to know the only liv- ing God was the God of the prophet, the God of Israel : and if this had not been, yet it is no marvel, if the widow knew Elijah, since the ravens knew him.
It was high time, for the prophet to visit the Sareptan. Poor soul ! she was now making her last meal : after one mean morsel, she was yielding herself over to death. How opportunely hath God provided succours to our distresses ! It is his glory, to help at a pinch ; to begin, where we have given over : that our relief might be so much the more welcome, by how much it is less look- ed for.
But oh, what a trial is this of the faith of a weak proselyte, if she were so much '. Fear not ; go, do as thou hast said, but wake me thereof a little cake first, and bring it to me, and after make for thee, and thy son : for, thus saith the. God of Israel, The bar- rel of meal shall not waste, nor the cruse of oil fail, till the day that God send rain upon the earth. She must go spend upon a stranger part of that little she hath, in hope of more, which she hath not, which she mav have. She must part with her present food, which she saw, in trust of future, which she could not see. She must rob her sense, in the exercise of her belief ; and shorten her life in being, upon the hope of a protraction of it in promise. She must believe God will miraculously increase, what she hath yielded to consume. She must first feed the stranger, with her last denials; and then after, herself and her son.
Some sharp dame would have taken up the prophet ; and have lent him away, with an angry repulse : 11 Bold Israelite; there m 10 reason in this request. Wert thou a friend or a brother, with vhat face couldest thou require, to pull my last bit out of my nouth ? Had I superfluity of provision, thou mightest hope for tiis eflect of my charity : now, that I have but one morsel for my- .vlf and my son, this is an injurious importunity. What can induce tlec: to think thy life, an unknown traveller, should be more dear tc me than my son's, than my own ? How uncivil is this motion, ttat I should first make provision for thee, in this dying extremity ! Ithad been too much, to have begged my last scraps. Thou tellest nv the meal shall not waste, nor the oil fail ; how shall I believe th e ? Let me see that done, before thou eatest. In vain should I chillcnge thee, when the remainder of my poor store is consumed. If hou canst so easily multiply victuals, how is it that thou want- cst: Do that beforehand, which thou promisest shall be afterwards perorated) there will be no need of my little."
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479
But this good Sareptan was wrought hv God, not to mistrust a prophet. She will do what he bids, and hope for what he pro- mises. She will live by faith, rather than by sense ; and give away the present, in the confidence of a future remuneration. First, she bakes Elijah's cake ; then, her own : not grudging, to see her last morsels go down another's throat, while herself was famishing. How hard precepts doth God lay, where he intends bounty ! Had not God meant her preservation, he had suffered her to eat her last cake alone, without any interpellation : now, the mercy of the Almighty purposing, as well this miraculous favour to her as to his prophet, requires of her this task, which flesh and blood would have thought unreasonable. So we are wont, to put hard ques- tions to those scholars, whom we would promote to higher forms. So in all atcliicvemcnts, the difficulty of the enterprise makes way for the glory of the actor.
Happy was it for this widow, that she did not shut her hand to the man of God ; that she was no niggard of her last handful. Ne- ver corn or olive did so increase in growing, as here in consuming. This barrel, tins cruse of hers, had no bottom : The barrel of meal wasted not ; the cruse of oil failed not. Behold, not getting, not saving, is the way to abundance, but giving. The mercy of God crowns our beneficence, with the blessing of store. Who can fear want, by a merciful liberality ; when he sees the Sareptan had fa- mished, if she had not given, and by giving abounded ? With what thankful devotion must this woman every day needs look upon her barrel and cruse, wherein she saw the mercy of God re- newed to her continually ! Doubtless, her soul was no less fed by faith, than her body with this supernatural provision. How wel- come a guest must Elijah needs be to this widow, that gave her life and her son's to her, for his board ! yea, that, in woeful famine, gave her and her son their board, for his house room !
The dearth thus overcome, the mother looks hopefully upon her only son ; promising herself much joy, in his life and prosperity ; when an unexpected sickness surpriseth him, and doth that which the famine but threatened. When can we hold ourselves secure from evils ? No sooner is one of these sergeants compounded with- al, than we are arrested by another.
How ready we are to mistake the grounds of our afflictions, and to cast them upon false causes ! The passionate mother cannot find whither to impute the death of her son, but to the presence of Eli- jah ; to whom she comes, distracted with perplexity ; not without un unkind challenge of him, from whom she had received, both that life she had lost and that she had ; What have I to do with thee, O thou man of God ? Art thou come to me, to call my sin to re- membrance; and to slay my son ? As if her son could not have died, if Elijah had not been her guest ; whereas her son had died, but for him. Why should she think, that the prophet had saved him from the famine, to kill him with sickness ? As if God had not been free in his actions ; and must needs strike bv the same hands, by which he preserved. She had the grace to know, that her
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CO^TEMPLATIOKS.
affliction was for her sin ; yet was so unwise, to imagine the ar- rearages of her iniquities had not been called for, if Elijah had not been the remembrancer. He, who had appeased God towards her, is suspected to have incensed him.
This wrongful misconstruction was enough to move any pa- tience. Elijah was of a hot spirit ; yet his holiness kept him from fury. This challenge rather increased the zeal of his prayer, than stirred his choler to the offender. He takes the dead child out of his mother's bosom, and lays him upon his own bed, and cries unto the Lord ; O Lord my God, hast thou brought evil also upon the widow, with whom I sojourn, by slaying her son ? Instead of chid- ing the Sareptan, out of the fervency of his soul, he humbly ex- postulates with his God. His only remedy is in his prayer : that, which shut heaven for rain, must open it for life.
Every word enforceth ; first, he pleads his interest in God, O Lord my God : then, the quality of the patient ; a widow, and therefore, both most distressed with the loss, and most peculiar to the charge of the Almighty : then, his interest, as in God, so in this patient ; With whom 1 sojourn ; as if the stroke were given to himself, through her sides : and lastly, the quality of the punish- ment, By slaying her son, the only comfort of her life : and in all these implying the scandal, that must needs arise from this event, wherever it should be noised, to the name of his God, to his own; when it should be said : ** Lo how Elijah's entertainment is re- warded : surely the prophet is either impotent or unthankful!"
Neither doth his tongue move thus only. Thrice doth he stretch, himself upon the dead body ; as if he could wish, to infuse of his own life into the child ; and so often calls to his God, for the re- stitution of that soul.
What can Elijah ask, to be denied r The Lord heard the voice of the prophet ; the soul of the child came into him again, and he revived. What miracle is impossible to faithful prayers ? There cannot be moi-e difference betwixt Elijah's devotion and ours, than betwixt supernatural and ordinary acts ; if he therefore obtained miraculous favours by his prayers, do we doubt of those which are within the sphere of nature and use ? What could we want, if we did not slack to ply heaven with.our prayers ?
Certainly, Elijah had not been premonished of this sudden sick- ness and death of the child. He, who knew the remote affairs of the world, might not know what God would do within his own roof. The greatest prophet must content himself, with so much of God's council, as he will please to reveal ; and he will some- times reveal the great secrets and conceal the less, to make good, both his own libertv and man's humiliation.
So much more unexpected as the stroke was, so much more wel- come is the cure. How joyfully doth the man of God take the re- vived child into his arms and present him to his mother ! How doth his heart leap within him, at this proof of God's favour to him ; mercy, to the widow ; power, to the child !
What life and joy did now shew itself, in the face of that amazed
ELIJAH WITH THE BAALITES.
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mother, when she saw again the eyes of her son fixed upon hers ; when she felt his flesh warm, his motions vital !
Now she can say to Elijah, By this I know that thou art a man of God, aticl that the word of the Lord in thy mouth is truth. Did she not till now know this ? Had she not said before, What have I to do with thee, O thou man of God f Were not her cruse and her barrel sufficient proofs of his divine commission r Doubtless, what her meal and oil had assured her of, the death of her son made her to doubt ; and now, reviving, did reascertain. Even the strongest faith sometimes staggereth, and needeth new acts of heavenly sup- position.
The end of miracles is confirmation of truth. It seems had this widow's son continued dead, her belief had been buried in his grave: notwithstanding her meal and her oil, her soul had lan- guished. The mercy of God is fain to provide new helps for our infirmities ; and graciously condescends to our own terms, that we may work out our faith and salvation. 1 Kings xvii.
ELIJAH WITH THE BAALITES.
Three years and a half, did Israel lie gasping under a parching drought and miserable famine.
No creature was so odious to them, as Elijah ; to whom they as- cribed all their misery. Methinks, I hear how they rail on and curse the prophet. How much envy must the servants of God un- dergo for their master ! Nothing but the tongue was Elijah's ; the hand was God's. The prophet did but say, what God would do : I do not see them fall out with their sins, that had deserved the judge- ment ; but with the messenger, that denounced it. Baal had no fewer servants, than if there had been both rain and plenty.
Elijah safely spends this storm, under the lee of Sarcpta. Some three years hath he lain close in that obscure coiner ; and lived upon the barrel and cruse, which he had multiplied : at last, God calls him forth ; Go shew thyself to Ahab ; and I will send rain upon the earth.
No rain must fall, till Elijah were seen of Ahab. He carried away the clouds with him ; he must bring them again. The king, the people of Israel, shall be witnesses, that God will make good the word, the oath of his prophet. Should the rain have fallen in Elijah's absence, who could have known it was by his procurement ? God holds the credit of his messengers precious ; and neglects no- thing that may grace them, in the eyes of the world. Not the ne- cessity of seven thousand religious Israelites could crack the word of one Elijah. There is nothing, wherein God is more tender, than in approving the veracity of himself, in his ministers.
Lewd Ahab hath a holy steward. As his name was, so was he, % servant of God, while his master was a slave to Baal. He, that re- served seven thousand in the kingdom of Israel, hath reserved an
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432
CONTEMPLATIONS.
Obadiah in the court of Israel ; and by him, hath reserved them. Neither is it likely, there had been so many free hearts in the coun- try, if religion had not been secretly backed in the court. It is a great happiness, when God gives favour and honour to the vir- tuous.
Elijah did not lie more close in Sarepta, than Obadiah did in the court. He could not have done so much service to the Church, if he had not been as secret as good. Policy and religion do as well together, as they do ill asunder. The dove without the serpent, is easily caught ; the serpent without the dove, stings deadly. Reli- gion without policy, is too simple to be safe ; policy without reli- gion, is too subtile to be good : their match makes themselves se- cure, and many happy.
Oh degenerated estate of Israel ! Any thing was now lawful there, saving piety* It is well, if God's prophets can find a hole to hide their heads in. They must needs be hard driven, when fifty. of them are fain to crowd together into one cave. There they had both shade and repast. Good Obadiah hazards his own life, to preserve theirs ; and spends himself, in that extreme dearth, upon their ne- cessary diet. Bread and water was more now, than other while wine and delicacies. Whether shall we wonder more, at the mercy of God in reserving a hundred prophets, or in thus sustaining them being reserved ? When did God ever leave his Israel, unfur- nished of some prophets ? When did he leave his prophets, un- provided of some Obadiah ? How worthy art thou, O Lord, to be trusted with thine own charge. While there are men upon earth, or birds in the air, or angels in heaven, thy messengers cannot want provision.
Goodness carries away trust, where it cannot have imitation. Ahab divides with Obadiah the survey of the whole land. They two set their own eyes on work, for the search of water, of pas- ture, to preserve the horses and mules alive.
Oh the poor and vain cares of Ahab.! He casts to kill the pro- phet, to save the cattle ; he never seeks to save his own soul, to destroy idolatry : he takes thought for grass, none for mercy. Car- nal hearts are ever, either grovelling on the earth, or delving into it ; no more regarding God or their souls, than if the\- either were not, or were worthless.
Elijah hears of the progress ; and offers himself to the view of them both. Here was wisdom in this courage : first, he presents himself to Obadiah, ere he will be seen of Ahab ; that Ahab might, upon the report of so discreet an informer, digest the expectation of his meeting : then he takes the opportunity of Ahab's presence, when he might be sure Jezebel was away.
' "Obadiah meets the prophet ; knows him ; and, as if he had seen God in him, falls on his face to him, whom he knew his master persecuted. Though a great peer, die had learned to honour a pro- phet. No respect was too much, for the president of that sacred college. To the poor boarder of the Sareptan, here was no less, than a prostration ; and, My Urd Elijah, from the great high
ELIJAH WITH THE BAALITES. 483
steward of Israel. Those, that are truly gracious, cannot be nig- gardly of their observances, to the messengers of God.
Elijah receives the reverence ; returns a charge ; Go tell my lord, behold Elijah is here. Obadiah finds this load too heavy ; neither is he more stricken with the boldness, than with the un- kindness of this command: boldness, in respect of Elijah; un- kindness, in respect of himself. For, thus he thinks, " If Elijah do come to Ahab, lie dies : if he do not come, I die. If it be known that I met him, and brought him not, it is death : if I say that he will come voluntarily, and God shall alter his intentions, it is death. How unhappy a man am I, that must be either Elijah's executioner, or my own ! Were Ahab's displeasure but smoking, I might hope to quench it ; but now, that the flame of it hath broken forth to the notice, to the search, of all the kingdoms and nations round about, it may consume me ; I cannot extinguish it. This message were for an enemy of Elijah ; for a client of Baal : as for me, I have well approved my true devotion to God ; my love to his pro- phets. What have I done, that I should be singled out, cither to kill Elijah or to be killed for him r" Many a hard plunge must that man needs be driven to, who would hold his conscience, together with the service and favour of a tyrant. It is a happy thing, to serve a just master : there is no danger, no stain, in such obe- dience.
But, when the prophet binds his resolution with an oath, and clears the heart of Obadiah from all fears, from all suspicions, the good man dares be the messenger of that, which he saw was de- creed in heaven.
Doubtless, Ahab startled to hear of Elijah coming to meet him ; as one, that did not more hate, than fear the prophet. Well might bethink, " Thus long, thus far, have I sought Elijah. Elijah would not come to seek me, but under a sure guard, and with some strange commission. His coarse mantle hath the advantage of my robe and sceptre. If I can command a piece of the earth, I see he can command heaven." The edge of his revenge is taken off, with a doubtful expectation of the issue ; and now, when Elijah offers himself to the eyes of Ahab, be, who durst not strike, yet durst challenge the prophet; Art thou he, that troubleth Israel? Jero- boam's hand was still in Ahab's thoughts. He holds it not so safe to smite, as to expostulate. He, that was the head of Israel, speaks out that, which was in the heart of all his people, that Elijah was the cause of all their sorrow. Alas ! what hath the righteous pro- phet done ? He taxed their sin, he foretold the judgments ; he de- served it not, he inflicted it not : yet he smarts, and they are guil- ty. As if some fond people should accuse the herald or the trumpet, as the cause of their war ; or, as if some ignorant peasant, when lie sees his fowls bathing in his pond, should cry out of them as the causes of foul weather.
Oh the heroicai spirit of Elijah ! He stands alone, amidst all the train of Ahab ; and dares not only repel this charge, but retort it ;
484 CONTEMPLATIONS.
1 have not troubled Israel , but thou, and thy father's house, in that ye have forsaken the commandments of the Lord, and thou hast followed Baalim. No earthly glory can daunt hhn, who hath the clear and heartening visions of God.
Tins holv seer discerns the true cause of our sufferings to he our sins. Foolish men are plagued for their offences ; and it is no small part of their plague, that they see it not. The only common dis- turber of men, families, cities, kingdoms, worlds, is sin. There is no such traitor to any state, as the wilfully wicked. The quietest and most plausible offender is secretly seditious, and stirreth quar- rels in heaven.
The true messengers of God carry authority, even where they are maligned. Elijah doth at once reprove the king, and require of him the improvement of his power; in gathering all Israel to Car- mel ; in fetching thither all the prophets of Baal.
Baal was rich in Israel, while God was poor. While God hath but one hundred prophets hid closely in Obadiah's caves, Baal hath eight hundred and fifty : four hundred and fifty dispersed over the villages and towns of Israel ; four hundred at the court. God's prophets are glad of bread and water, while the four hun- dred trencher prophets of Jezebel feed on her dainties : they lurk in caves ; while these lord it in the pleasantest groves. Outward prosperity is a false note of truth.
All these, with all Israel, doth Elijah require Ahab to summon unto Carmel. It is in the power of kings, to command the assem- bly of the prophets. The prophet sues to the prince, for the in- diction of this synod. They are injurious to sovereignty, who ar- rogate this power to none hut spiritual hands.
How is it, that Ahab is as ready to perform this charge, as Elijah to move it ? I dare answer for his heart, that it was not drawn with love. Was it out of the sense of one judgment, and fear of ano- ther r He smarted with the dearth and drought ; and well thinks Elijah would not be so round with him for nothing. Was it out of an expectation of some miraculous exploit, which the prophet would do in the sight of all Israel? Or, was it out of the over-rul- ing power of the Almighty I The heart of Kings is in the hands of God, and he turns it which way soever he pleaseth.
Israel is met together : Elijah rates them ; not so much for their superstition, as for their unsettledness and irresolution. One Is- raelite serves God, another Baal ; yea, the same Israelite, perhaps, serves both God and Baal. How long halt ye between two opi- nions ? If the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him. Nothing is more odious to God, than a profane neutrality, in main oppositions of religion. To go upright in a wrong way is a less eye-sore to God, than to halt betwixt right and wrong. The Spirit wisheth, that the Laodicean were either hot or cold: either temper would better be borne, than neither ; than both. In recon- cileable differences, nothing is more safe, than indirlerency both of practice and opinion ; but in oases of so necessary hostility as b»-
ELIJAH WITH THE BAALITES. 485
twixt God and Baal, he, that is on neither side, is the deadliest enemy to both. Less hateful are they to God that serve him not at all, than they that serv* him with a rival.
Whether out of guiltiness, or fear, or uncertainty, Israel is si- lent ; yet, while their mouth was shut, their eyes were open.
It was a fair motion of Elijah, " I am only remaining a prophet of the Lord : Baal's prophets arc four hundred and fifty. Let them choose one bullock ; let me choose another. Their devotion shall be combined ; mine single. The God that consumes the sacrifice by fire from heaven, let him be God." Israel cannot but approve it : the prophets of Baal cannot refuse it ; they had the appearance of the advantage, in their number, in the favour of king and people.
Oil strange disputation : wherein the argument which must be used is fire ; the place whence it must be fetched, heaven ; the mood and figure, devotion ; the conclusion, death to be overcome!
Had not Elijah, bv divine instinct, been assured of the event, he durst not have put religion upon such hazard. That God com- manded him this trial, who meant confusion to the authors of ido- latry, victory to the truth. His terror shall be approved, both by fire and by water: first, by fire; then, by water. There was no less terror in the fire, than mercy in the rain. It was fit they should first be humbled by his terrors, that they might be made capable of his mercy ; and by both might be won to repentance. Thus still, the fears of the law make way for the influences of grace ; neither do those sweet and heavenly dews descend upon the soul, till way be made for them, by the terrible flashes of the law.
Justly doth Elijah urge this trial. God's sacrifices were used to none, but heavenly fires ; whereas, the base and earthly religion of the heathen contented itself, with gross and natural Haines.
The prophets of Baal durst not, though with faint and guilty hearts, but embrace the condition. They dress their bullock, and lay it ready upon the wood ; and send out their cries to Baal, from morning until midday ; O Baal, hear us. What a yelling was here, of four hundred and fifty throats tearing the skies for an answer ! What leaping was here upon the altar ; as if they would have climbed up to fetch that fire, which would not come down alone J Mount Carrnel might give an echo to their voice ; heaven gave none. In vain do they roar out, and weary themselves in inipl< ing a dumb and deaf deitv.
Grave and austere Elijah holds it not too li^ht, to flout their zea- lous devotion. He laughs at their tears, and plays upon their ear- nest ; Cry aloud ; for he is a God : either he is talk ing, or he is pursuing, or he is travelling, or he is sleeping, and must be awaked. Scorns and taunts are the best answers, for serious idolatry. Holi- ness will bear us out, in dis.laiuful scoffs and bitterness, again l wilful superstition.
No less in the indignation at these insulting frumps, than zeal of their own sal' ty ami reparation, do these idolatrous prophets now rend their throats with w ; iarn.it ions ; and, that they may assure
48() CONTEMPLATIONS.
the beholders they were not in jest, they cut and slash themselves with knives and lancets, and solicit the lire with their blood.
How much painfullness there is in misreligion ! I do not find, that the true God ever required or accepted the s( lf-tortures of his servants. He loves true inward mortification of our corruptions; he loves the subduing of our spiritual insurrections, by due exer- cise of severe restraint ; he takes no pleasure in our blood, in our carcases. They mistake God, that they think to please him, by destroying that nature, which he hath made ; and measure truth, by rigour of outward extremities. Elijah drew no blood of him- self : the priests of Baal did.
How fain would the devil, whom these idolaters adored, have an- swered the suit of his suppliants ! What would that ambitious spi- rit have given, that, as he was cast down from heaven like light- ning, so now he might have fallen down in that form upon his altar! God forbids it : all the powers of darkness can no more shew one flash of fire in the air, than avoid the unquenchable fire in hell. How easy were it for the power of the Almighty, to cut short all the tyrannical usurpation of that wicked one ; if his wisdom and justice did not find the permission thereof useful to his holy pur- poses.
These idolaters now, towards evening, grew so much more vehe- ment, as they were more hopeless ; and at last, when neither their shrieks, nor their wounds, nor their mad motions could prevail, they sit down hoarse and weary ; tormenting themselves afresh with their despairs, and with the fears of bitter success of their adver- sary : when Elijah calls the people to him, (the witnesses of his sin- cere proceedings,) and, taking the opportunity both of the time, the just hour of the evening sacrifice, and of the place, a ruined altar of God now by him repaired, convinces Israel with his mira- cle ; and more cuts these fiaalites with envy, than they had cut themselves with their lancets.
O holy prophet, why didst thou not save this labour ? What needed these unseasonable reparations ? Was there not an altar, was there not a sacrifice, ready prepared to thy hand ? That, which the prophets of Baal had addressed, stood still waiting for that fire from thee, which the founders threatened in vain. The stones were not more impure, either for their touch or their intentions ; yet, such was thy detestation of idolatry, that thou abhorrest to meddle with ought, which their wickedness had defiled. Even that altar, whose ruins thou didst thus repair, was miserected, though to the name of the true God ; yet didst thou find it better, to make up the breaches of that altar, which was misconsecrated to the ser- vice of thy God, than to make use of that pile, which was ido- latrously devoted to a false god. It cannot be but safe, to keep aloof from participation with idolaters ; even in those things, which, not only in nature but in use, are unclean.
Elijah lays twelve stones in his repaired altar, according to the number of the tribes of the sons of Jacob. Alas ! ten of these were perverted to Baal. The prophet regards not their present
ELIJAH WITH THE BAALITES.
48T
•apostasy : he regards the ancient covenant, that was made with their father Israel ; he regards their first station, to which he would reduce them. He knew, that the unworthiness of Israel could not make God forgetful : he would, by this monument, put Israel in mind of their own degeneration and forgetfulness.
He employs those many hands, for the making a large trench' round about the altar ; and causes it to be filled, with those pre- cious remainders of water, which the people would have grudged to their own mouths; neither would easily have parted with, but, as those that pour down a pailful into a dry pump, in the hope of fetching more. The altar, the trench is full. A barrelful is poured out for each of the tribes ; that every tribe might be afterwards replenished.
Ahab and Israel are no less full of expectation ; and now, when God's appointed hour of the evening sacrifice was come, Elijah comes confidently to his altar, and, looking up into heaven, says. Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day, that thou art God in Israel, and that I am thy servant, and that I have done all these things at thy word. Hear me, 0 Lord, hear vie, that this people may know that thou art the Lord God, and that thou hast turned their hearts back again.
The Baalites' prayers were not more tedious, than Elijah's was short ; and yet more pithy, than short ; charging God with the care of his covenant, of his truth, of his glory. It was Elijah, that spake loud. Oh strong cries of faith, that pierce the heavens, and irresistibly make their way to the throne of grace !
Israel shall well see, that Elijah's God, whom they have forsaken, is neither talking, nor pursuing, nor travelling, nor sleeping. In- stantly, the fire of the Lord falls from heaven, and consumes the burnt sacrifice, the wood, the stones, the dust, and licks up the water that was in the trench.
With what terror must Ahab and Israel needs see this fire rolling down out of the sky, and alighting with such fury so near their heads; heads, no less fit for this flame, than the sacrifice of Eli- jah ! Well might they have thought, " How easily might this fire? have dilated itself ; and have consumed our bodies, as well as the wood and stone ; and have licked up our blood, as well as that' water!" I know not, whether they had the grace to acknowledge the mercy of God : they could do no less, than confess his power ; The Lord is God ; the Lord is God.
The iron was now hot, with this heavenly fire. Elijah staj-s not till it cool again, but strikes immediately ; Take the prophets of Baal ; let not one of them esiffpe.
This wap;er was for life. Had they prevailed in procuring this fire, and Elijah had failed of effect, his head had been forfeited unto them : now, in the contrary success, theirs arc lost to him. Let no man complain, that those holy hands were bloody. This sacrifice was no less pleasing to God, than that other.' Both the man and the act were extraordinary, and led by a peculiar in- stinct. Neither doth the prophet this, without the assent of the
488 CONTEMPLATIONS.
supreme magistrate ; who was now so affected with this miraculous work, that he could not, in the heat of that conviction, but allow the justice of such a sentence. Far be it from us, to accuse God's commands or executions of cruelty. It was the ancient and peremp- tory charge of God, that the authors of idolatry and seduction should die the death : no eye, no hand might spare them. The prophet doth but move the performance of that law, which Israel could not without sin have omitted. It is a merciful and thank, worthy severity, to rid the world of the ringleaders of wicked- ness. , i Kings xviii.
ELIJAH RUNNING BEFORE AHAB, FLYING FROM
JEZEBEL,
I hear no news of the four hundred prophets of the groves, They lie close under the wing of Jezebel, under their pleasing shades ; neither will be suffered to undergo the danger of this trial, The carcases of their fellows help to fill up the half-dry channel of Kishon.
Justice is no sooner done, than Ahab hears news of mercy from Elijah ; Get thee up, eat and drink, for there is a sound of abun- dance of rain. Their meeting was not more harsh, than their part- ing was friendly. It seems Ahab had spent all that day fasting, in an eager attendance of those conflicting prophets. It must needs be late, ere the execution could be done. Elijah's part began not till the evening. So far must the king of Israel be, from taking thought for the massacre of those four hundred and fifty Baalites ; that now, he may go eat his bread with joy, and drink his wine •with a cheerful heart ; for God accepteth this work, and testifies it in the noise of much rain. Every drop of that idolatrous blood was answered, with a shower of rain, with a stream of water ; and plenty poured down in every shower. A sensible blessing follows the impartial strokes of severe justice. Nothing is more cruel, than an unjust piety.
No ears but Elijah's could as yet perceive a sound of rain, The clouds were not yet gathered, the vapours were not yet risen, yet Elijah hears that which shall be. Those that are of God's counsel can discern either favours or judgments afar oft". The slack appre- hensions of carnal hearts make them hard to believe that, as future, which the quick and refined senses of the faithful receive, as pre- sent.
Ahab goes up to his repast : Elijah goes up to his prayers. That day had been painful to him : the vehemency of his spirit draws him to a neglect of his body. The holy man climbs up to the top of Carmel, that now he may talk with his God alone ; neither is he sooner ascended, than he casts himself down upon the earth. He bows his knees to God, and bows his face down to his knees; by this humble posture acknowledging his awful respects to that Majesty, which he implored. We cannot prostrate our bodies or
ELIJAH RVNNrNG BEFORE AHAB, FLYING FROM JEZEBEL. 489
touls too low, to that infinitely glorious Deity, who is the Creator of both.
His thoughts were more high, than his body was low. What he said, we know not ; we know that "what he said opened the heavens, that for three years and a half had been shut up.
God had said before, / will send rain Upon the earth ; yet Eli- jah must pray for what God did promise. The promises of the Almighty do not discharge our prayers, but suppose them. He will do what he undertakes, but we must sue for that, which we would have him do. Our petitions are included in the decrees, in the engagements of God.
The prophet had newly seen, and caused, the fire to descend immediately out of heaven : he doth not look the water should do so. He knew that the rain must come from ihc clouds, and that the clouds must arise from vapours, and those vapours from the sea r thence doth he expect them. But, as not willing that the thoughts of his fixed devotion should be distracted, he doth not go himself, only sends his servant to bring him the news of his suc- cess, . -
At the first sight, nothing appears. Seven times must he walk to that prospect ; and not till his last view can discern ought. All that while is the prophet in his prayers ; neither is any whit daunted with that delay. Hope holds up the head of our holy desires, and perseverance crowns it. If we receive not an answer to our suits at the sixth motion, we may not be out of countenance, but must try the seventh.
At last, a little cloud arises out of the sea, of a hand breadth. 80 many, so fervent prayers cannot but pull water out of heaven, as well as fire. Those sighs reflect upon the earth, and from the earth reflect upon heaven, from heaven rebound upon the sea, and raise vapours up thence to heaven again.
If we find that our prayers are heard for the substance, we may not cavil at the quantity. Even a hand-broad cloud contents Eli- jah ; and fills his heart full of joy and thankfulness. He knew well this meteor was not at the biggest : it was newly born of the womb of the waters ; and, in some minutes of age, must grow to a large stature ; stay but a while, and heaven is covered with it. Erom how small beginnings, have greater matters risen ! It is no other- wise, in all the gracious proceedings of God with the soul. Scarce sensible are those first works of his Spirit in the heart, which grow up at last, to the wonder of men and applause of angels.
Well did Elijah know, that God, who is perfection itself, would not defile his hand, with an inchoate and scanted favour ; as one therefore, that foresaw the face of heaven overspread with thii cloudy spot, he sends to Ahab, to hasten his chariot, that the rain stop hirn not. It is long, since Ahab feared this let. Never was the news of a danger more welcome. Doubtless, the king of Is- rael, while he was at his diet, looked long for Elijah's promised showers. ': Where is the rain, whose sound the prophet heard? How is it, that his ears were so much quicker, than our eyes ?
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CONTEMPLATIONS.
We saw his fire to our terror ; how gladly would we see his waters t" When now, the servant of Elijah brings him news from heaven, that the clouds were setting forward, and, if he hastened not, would be before him.
The wind arises ; the clouds gather ; the sky thickens ; Ahab betakes him to his chariot ; Elijah girds up his loins, and runs be- fore him. Surely, the prophet could not want the offer of more ease in his passage ; but he will be, for the time, Aliab's lacquey, that the king and all Israel may see his humility no less than his power, and may confess that the glory of those miracles hath not made him insolent. He knew, that his very sight was monitory ; neither could Ahab's mind be beside the miraculous works of God, while his eye was upon Elijah ; neither could the king's heart be otherwise than well affected towards the prophet, while he saw that himself and all Israel had received a new life by his procurement.
But what news was here for Jezehel ! Certainly, Ahab minced nothing of the report of all those astonishing accidents. If but to salve up his own honour, in the death of those Baalites, he made the best of Elijah's merits ; he told of his challenge, conflict, vic- tory, of the Are that fell down from heaven, of the conviction of Israel, of the unavoidable execution of the prophets, of the pre- diction and fall of those happy showers, and lastly of Elijah's offi- cious attendance.
Who would not have expected, that Jezebel should have said ; " It is no striving, no dallying, with the Almighty. No reasonable creature can doubt, after so prodigious a decision. God hath won us from heaven ; he must possess us. Justly are our seducers pe- rished. None but the God, that can command fire and water, shall be ours : there is no prophet, but his."
But she, contrarily, instead of relenting, rageth ; and sends a message of death to Elijah, So let the gods do to me, and more alsof if I make not thy life as the life of one of them, by to morrow, about this time. Neither scourges, nor favours can work any thing, with the obstinately wicked.
All evil hearts are not equally dis-a fleeted to good. Ahab and Je- zebel were both bad enough, yet Ahab yields to that work of God, which Jezebel stubbornly opposeth ; Ahab melts with that water, with that fire, wherewith Jezebel is hardened ; Ahab was bashfully, Jezebel audaciously impious. The weaker sex is ever most com- monly stronger in passion, and more vehemently carried with the sway of their desires, whether to good or evil. She swears and stamps at that, whereat she should have trembled. She swears by those gods of hers, which were not able to save their prophets, that she will kill the prophet of God, who had scorned her gods, and slain her prophets.
It is well, that Jezebel could not keep counsel. Her threat pre- served him, whom she had meant to kill. The wisdom and power of God could have found evasions for his prophet, in her greatest secresy ; but now, he needs no other means of rescue, but her own lips. . . .
ELIJAH RUNNING BEFORE AHAB, FLYrNG FROM JEZEBEL. 49l
She is no less vain, than the gods she swears bv. In spite of her fury, and her oath, and her gods, Elijah shail li .e. At once, s mil she find herself frustrate and forsworn. She is now ready to bite her tongue, to eat her heart, for anger, at the disappointment of her cruel vow. It were no living for godiy men, if tne hands of tyrants were allowed to be as bloody as their hearts. Men and devils are under the restraint of the Almighty ; neither art; tiieir designs more lavish, than their executions short.
Holy Elijah flees for his life. We hear not of the command of God, but we would willingly presuppose it. So divine a prophet should do nothing without God. His heels were no new refuge. As :o where safe within the ten tribes, he flees to Scendieba, in the territories of judah. As not there safe from the machinations of Jezebel, he flees alone, one day's journey, into the wilderness. There he sits him down, under a juniper tree; and, as weary of life no less than of his way, wishes to rise no more ; It is enough vow, O Lord, take away my life, for I am not better than my fa- thers.
O strange and uncouth mutation ! What is this we hear ? Elijah fainting and giving up ! That heroical spirit dejected and prostrate ! He, that durst say to Ahab's face, It is thou, and thy Jatlier's house, that troubleth Ismel ; he, that could raise the dead, open and shut the heavens, fetch down both fire and water, with his prayers ; he, that durst chide and contest with all Israel, that durst kill the four hundred and fifty Baalites with the sword ; doth he shrink at the frowns and threats of a woman ? doth he wish to be rid of his life, because he feared to lose it ? Who can expect an undaunted constancy from flesh and blood, when Elijah fails ? The strongest and holiest saint upon earth, is subject to some qualms of fear and infirmity. To be always and unchangeably good, is proper only to the glorious spirits in heaven. Thus the wise and holy God will have his power perfected in our weakness. It is in vain for us, while we carry this flesh about us, to hope for so exact health, as not to be cast down sometimes with fits of spi- ritual distemper.
It is no new thing, for holy men to wish for death. Who can ei- ther marvel at or blame the desire of advantage ? For the weary traveller to long for rest, the prisoner for liberty, the banished for home, it is so natural, that the contrary disposition were mon- strous. The benefit of the change is a just motive to our appeti- tion ; but to call for death out of a satiety of life, out of an impa- tience of sulfering, is a weakness unbeseeming a saint. It is not enough, O Elijah. God hath more work vet for thee. Thy God hath more honoured thee than thy fathers, and thou shalt live to honour him.
Toil and sorrow have lulled the prophet asleep, under his juni- per tree. That wholesome shade was well chosen, for his rei,ose. While death was called for, the cousin of death come:;, unbidden.
The angel of God waits on him, in that hard lodging. No .vil- derncss is too solitary, for the attendance of those blessed spirits.
492 CONTEMPLATIONS.
As he is guarded, so is he awaked, by that messenger of God ; and stirred up. from his rest, to his repast. While lie slept, his breakfast is made ready for him, by those spiritual hands ; there n-as a cake baked on the coals, and a cruse of watew at his head. Oh the never ceasing care and providence of the Almighty ; not to be barred by any place, by any condition ! When means are wanting to us, when we are wanting to ourselves, when to God, even then doth he follow us with his mercy, and cast favours upon us, beyond, against expectation.
What variety of purveyance doth he make for his servant ! One while the ravens, then the Sareptan, now the angel shall be his caterer : none of them without a miracle. Those other provided for him waking ; this, sleeping. O God, the eye of thy provi- dence is not dimmer, the hand of thy power is not shorter : only teach thou us to serve thee, to trust thee.
Needs must the prophet eat, and drink, and sleep with much comfort, while he saw that he had such a guardian, attendance, purveyor; and now, the second time, is he raised, bv that happy touch, to his meal and his way : Arise, and eat ; because the jour- ney is too great for thee. What needed he to travel further, since that divine power could as well protect him in the wilderness, as in Horeb r What needed he to eat, since he, that meant to sustain him forty days with one meal, might as well have sustained him with- out it ? God is a most free agent ; neither M ill he be tied to the terms of human regularities: it is enough, that he knows and ap- proves the reasons of his own choice and commands.
Once in forty days and nights shall Elijah eat, to teach us what God can do with little means ; and but once, to teach us what he can do without means : once shall the prophet eat, Man lives by bread ; and but once, Man lives not by bread only, but by every wed that proceeds out of the mouth of God,
Moses, Elijah, our Saviour, fasted each of them forty days and forty nights. The three great fasters met gloriously in Tabor. I do not find where God ever honoured any man for feasting. It is abstinence, not fulness, that makes a man capable of heavenly vi- sions, of divine glory.
The journev was not, of itself, so long : the prophet took those ways, those hours, which his heart gave him.
In the very same mount, where Moses fust saw God, shall Elijah see him. One and the same cave, as is very probable, was the receptacle to both. It could not be but a great confirmation of Elijah, to renew the sight of those seusible monuments of God's favour and protection, to his faithful predecessor. Moses canie to see God in the bush of Horeb '■ . God came to find Elijah in the cave of Horeb ; What doest thou here, Elijah ?
The place was directed by a. providence, not by a command. He is hid sure enough from Jezebel ; lie cannot be hid from the all-seeing eye of God. -Ji'hi/her shall I go from thy Spirit? or Whither shall 1 fly from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thpM art there; if I make my bed in hdl, behold thou art there ;
ELIJAH RUNNING BEFORE AHAB, FLVWG FROM JEZEBEL. 498
if I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the almost parts vf the sea ,- even there shall thine hand find vie, and thy right hand shall hold me. .
Twice hath God propounded the same question to Elijah: once in the heart, once in the mouth or' the cave :i twice doth the pro- phet answer, in the same words. Had the first answer' satisfied, the question had not been redemanded. Now, that sullen answer, which Elijah gave in the darkness of the ;cave; is challenged into the light, not without an awful preface. =■
The Lord first passeth by him, with the terrible demonstrations of his power; A great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake the rocks in pieces. The tearing blast was from God ; God was not in it : so was he in it, as in his other extraordinary works ; not so in it, as by it to impart himself to Elijah.' It was the usher, not the carriage, of God.
After the wind, came an earthquake ; more fearful than it. That did but move the air ; this, the earth : .that beat upon some promi- nences of earth ; this shook it from the centre.
After the earthquake, came a fire ; more fearful than either. The other affected the ear, the feeling ; but this lets in horror into the soul, by the eye, the quickest and most apprehensive of the senses. Elijah shall see God's mighty power in the earth, air, fire, before he hear him in the soft voice.
All these are but boisterous harbingers of a meek and still word. In that, God was. Behold, in that gentle and mild breath, there was omnipotency ; there was but powerfulness, in those fierce re- presentations. There is not always the greatest efficacy, where is the greatest noise. God loves to make way for himself, by terror ; but he conveys himself to us, in sweetness. It is happv for us, if, after the gusts and flashes of the law, we have heard the soft voice of evangelical mercy.
In this very mount, with the same horror, God had delivered his law to Moses and Israel. It is no marvel, if Elijah wrapt his face in his mantle. His obedience draws him forth, to the mouth of the cave; his fear still hides his head. Had there not. been much courage in the prophet's faith, he had not stood out these afiright- ful forerunners of the divine presence, though with his face cover- ed. The very angels do no less, before that all-glorious Majesty, than vail themselves with their wings ; far be it- from us, once to think of that infinite and omnipotent Deity, without an humble awfulness.
tear changes not the tenor of Elijah's answer. He hath not left ■one word behind him in the cave , / have been very jealous for the Lord God of Hosts ; because the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left and they seek my life, to take it away.
I hear not a direct answer from the prophet, to the demand of God : then he had said, " I run away from the threats of Jezebel ; and here I hide my head from her riialiuiuns pursuit." His guiiti-
494 CONTEMPLATIONS^
ness would not let him speak out all. He would rather say, / have been jealous for the Lord God of Hosts, than, " I was fearful of Jezebel." We are all willing, to make the best of our own case. But what he wants of his own accusation, he spends upon the complaint of Israel. Neither doth he more bemoan himself, than exclaim against them, as apostates from God's covenant, violaters of his altars, murderers of his prophets. It must needs be a despe- rate condition of Israel, that drives Elijah to indict them before the throne of God. That tongue of his was used to plead for them, to sue for their pardon ; it could not be but a forcible wick- edness, that makes it their accuser.
Those idolatrous Israelites were well forward to reformation. The fire and rain from heaven, at the prayers of Elijah, had won them to a scorn of Baal : only the violence of Jezebel turned the stream ; and now, they are resettled in impiety, and persecute him for an enemy, whom they almost adored for a benefactor ; otherwise, Elijah had not complained of what they had been. Who would think it ? Jezebel can do more than Elijah ! No miracle is so pre- valent with the vulgar, as the sway of authority, whether to good or evil.
Thou art deceived, O Elijah. Thou art not left alone ; neither is all Israel tainted. God hath children and prophets in Israel, though thou see them not. Those clear eyes of the seer discern not the secret story of God. They looked not into Obadiah's caves ; they looked not into the closets of the religious Israelites. He, that sees the heart, can say, / have left me seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed to Baal, and every moutJi which hath not kissed him. According to the fashion of the weal- thy, God pleaseth himself in hidden treasures. It is enough, that his own eyes behold his riches. Never did he, never will he leave himself unfurnished with holy clients, in the midst of the foulest depravations of his Church. The sight of his faithful ones hath sometimes been lost ; never the being. Do your worst, O ye gates of hell, God will have his own. He, that could have more, will have some. That foundation is sure, God knoweth who are his.
It was a true cordial for Elijah's solitariness, that he had seven thousand invisible abettors ; neither is it a small comfort to our weakness, to have companions in good.
Eor the wickedness of Israel, God hath another receipt; the oil of royal and prophetical unction. Elijah must anoint Hazael king of Syria, Jehu king of Israel, Elisha for his successor. All these shall revenge the quarrels of God and him: one shall begin, the other shall prosecute, the third shall perfect, the vengeance upon Israel.
A prophet shall avenge the wrongs done to a prophet. Elisha is found, not in his study, but in the field ; not with a book in his hand, but a plough. His father Shaphat was a rich farmer, in Abel-Meholah : himself was a good husband ; not trained in the schools of the prophets, but in the thrifty trade of tillage: and behold, tliis was the man, whom God will pick out of all Israel, for
ELIJAH RUNNING BEFORE AHAB, FLYING FROM JEZEBEL. 495
a prophet. God seeth not as man scctli ; neither doth he choose men before they are tit, but therefore he fits them, because he hath chosen them : his call is above all earthly institution.
I hear not of ought that Elijah said : only he cast; his cloke upon Elisha, in the passage. That mantle, that act was vocal. Together with this sign, God's instinct teacheth this amazed son of Shaphat, that he was designed to a higher work, to break up the fallow grounds of Israel, by his prophetical function. He finds a strange virtue in that robe ; and, as if his heart were changed with that habit, forgets his team, and runs after Elijah ; and sues for the leave of a farewell to his parents, ere he had any but a dumb command to follow. The secret call of God offers an inward force to the heart, and insensibly draws us beyond the power of our resistance. Grace is no enemy to good -nature. Well may the respects to our earthly parents, stand with our duties to our Father in Heaven.
I do not see Elisha wring his hands and deplore his condition, that he shall leave the world and follow a prophet, but, for the joy of that change, he makes a feast. Those oxen, those utensils of hus- bandry, whereon his former labours had been bestowed, shall now be gladly devoted to the celebration of that happy day, wherein he is honoured with so blessed an employment. If with desire, if with cheerfulness, we do not enter into the works of our heavenly Master, the}' are not like to prosper in our hands. He is not wor- thy of this spiritual station, who holds not the service of God his iighest, his richest preferment. 1 Kings xviii, xix.
£VX> OF THE FIRST VOLUMF.
C. WHrrrtNGHAM, Prater, nean3tre<rt.
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