sidered, they wondered more; and the more they believed, the more they feared. For those words, "I am Joseph," seemed to sound thus much to their guilty thoughts: you are murderers, and I am a prince in spite of you. My power, and this place, give me all opportunities of revenge: 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 assured 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 embracements 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 thinking of what good their brother may do to them. Actions salved up 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 were 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 comfortable; but that his dead son was yet alive, after so many years' lamentation, 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 sudden 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 his 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, "I 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 that 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: "I will go down and see 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 forbearance. 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 ever Jacob had, which therefore God reserved for his age.

And if the meeting of earthly friends be so unspeakably comfortable, 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 remission. Those that know they have deserved ill, are wont to misinterpret 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 bewray 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.

"Forgive the trespass of the servants of thy father's God." What a conjuration of pardon was this! What wound could be either so deep, or so festered, as this plaister 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 father's God. How much stronger are the bonds of religion than of nature! If Joseph had been rancorous, this

deprecation had charmed him; but now it resolves him into tears: they are not so ready to acknowledge 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 entreat; since they might know, it could not stand with the fellow-servant 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 acknowledgment. Mercy stays not for outward solemnities. How much more shall that infinite Goodness pardon our sins, when he finds the truth of our repentance!

BOOK IV.

CONTEMPLATION I.

THE AFFLICTION OF ISRAEL.

EGYPT was long a harbour to the Israelites; now it proves a jail: the posterity of Jacob finds too late, what it was for their forefathers to sell Joseph a slave into Egypt. Those whom the Egyptians 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 outlive one age, they prove decrepid 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

nerations.

upon a thousand ge

Yet, if the Israelites had been treacherous to Pharaoh, if disobedient, 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 must 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." Behold, they are afraid to part with those whom they are grieved to entertain: either staying, 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 unjust suspicions; it makes a man fear, where no fear is; fly, when none pursues him. What difference there is betwixt David and Pharaoh! The faith of the one says, "I 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 might 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 advantage. Favours had been more binding than cruelties: yet the foolish