contemn that prince whose ambassador they reverence. How could they but argue. "John is a prophet: he speaks from God; his words must be true: he tells us, this is the Lamb of God, the Messias that should come to redeem the world; this must needs be he, we will look for no other." Yet this perverse people receive John, and reject Jesus. There is ever an absurdity in unbelief, while it separates those relations and respects which can never in nature be disjoined. Thus it readily apprehends God as merciful in pardoning, not as just in punishing; Christ as a Saviour, not as a Judge. Thus we ordinarily, in a contrariety to these Jews, profess to receive the Master, and contemn the servants, while he hath said, who will make it good, "He that despiseth you, despiseth me."

That which Herod in policy durst not, in wine he dares do: and that which God had restrained till his own time, now in his own time he permits to be done. The day was, as one of the evangelists styles it, "convenient;" if for the purpose of Herodias, I am sure for God's, who, having determined to glorify himself by John's martyrdom, will cast it upon a time when it may be most notified, Herod's birthday. All the peers of the country, perhaps of the neighbour nations, are now assembled. Herodias could not have found out a time more fit to blazon her own shame and cruelty, than in such a confluence. The wise providence of God many times pays us with our own choice; so as when we think to have brought about our own ends to our best content, we bring about his purposes to our own confusion.

Herod's birthday is kept, and so was Pharaoh's; both of them with blood. These personal stains cannot make the practice unlawful. Where the man is good, the birth is memorable.

What blessing have we, if life be none? and if our life be a blessing, why should it not be celebrated? Excess and disorder may blemish any solemnity, but that cleaves to the act, not to the institution.

Herod's birthday was kept with a feast, and this feast was a supper. It was fit to be a night-work: this festivity was spent in works of darkness, not of the light; it was a child of darkness that was then born, not of the day.

"Those that are drunken, are drunk in the night." There is a kind of shame in sin, even where it is committed with the stiffest resolution; at least there was wont to be if now sin be grown impudent, and justice bashful, woe be to us!

That there might be perfect revels at Herod's birthday, besides the feast there is music and dancing, and that by Salome the daughter of Herodias. A meet daughter for such a mother, bred according to the disposition of so immodest a parent. Dancing, in itself, as it is a set, regular, harmonious motion of the body, cannot be unlawful, more than walking or running: circumstances may make it sinful. The wanton gesticulations of a virgin, in a wild assembly of gallants warmed with wine, could be no other than riggish and unmaidenly. It is not so frequently seen, that the child follows the good qualities of the parent; it is seldom seen that it follows not the evil. Nature is the soil, good and ill qualities are the herbs and weeds; the soil bears the weeds naturally, the herbs not without culture. What with traduction, what with education, it were strange if we should miss any of our parents' misdispositions.

Herodias and Salome have what they desired. The dance pleased Herod well: those indecent motions that would have displeased any modest eye (though what should a modest eye do at Herod's feast? overpleased Herod. Well did Herodias know how to fit the tooth of her paramour and had therefore purposely so composed the carriage and gesture of her daughter, as it might take best, although doubtless the same action could not have so pleased from another. Herod saw in Salome's face and fashion, the image of her whom he doted on; so did she look, so did she move; besides that his lavish cups had predisposed him to wantonness, and now he cannot but like well that which so pleasingly suited his inordinate desire. All humours love to be fed, especially the vicious, so much more as they are more eager and stirring. There cannot be a better glass, wherein to discern the face of our hearts, than our pleasures; such as they are, such are we, whether vain or holy.

What a strange transportation was this! "Whatsoever thou shalt ask:" half a kingdom for a dance! Herod, this pastime is over-paid for; there is no proportion in this remuneration; this is not bounty, it is prodigence. Neither doth this pass under a bare promise only, but under an oath, and that solemn and (as it might be in wine) serious. How largely do sensual men both proffer and give for a little momentary and vain contentment! How many censure Herod's gross impotence, and yet second it with a worse, giving away their precious souls for a short pleasure of sin! What is

So large a boon was worthy of delibe. ration. Salome consults with her mother upon so ample and ratified a promise. Yet so much good nature and filial respect was in this wanton damsel, that she would not carve herself of her option, but takes her mother with her. If Herodias were infamously lewd, yet she was her parent, and must direct her choice. Children should have no will of their own: as their flesh is their parents', so should their will be. They do justly unchild themselves, that in main elections dispose of themselves without the consent of those which gave them being. It is both unmannerly and unnatural in the child to run before, without, against, the will of the parent.

O that we could be so officious to our good and heavenly Father, as she was to an earthly and wicked mother; not to ask, not to undertake, aught, without his allowance, without his directions! that, when the world shall offer us whatsoever our heart desires, we could run to the oracles of God for our resolution, not daring to accept what he doth not both license and warrant!

O the wonderful strength of malice! Salome was offered no less than half the kingdom of Herod, yet chooses to ask the head of a poor preacher. Nothing is so sweet to a corrupt heart as revenge, especially when it may bring with it a full scope to a dear sin. All worldlings are of this diet: they had rather sin freely for a while, and die, than refrain and live happily eternally. What a suit was this! "Give me here in a charger the head of John Baptist." It is not enough for her to say, Let John's head be cut off; but, "Give me it in a charger." What a service was here to be brought into a feast, especially to a woman! a dead man's head, swimming in blood! How cruel is a wicked heart, that can take pleasure in those things which have most horror!

O the importunity of a galled conscience! Herodias could never think herself safe till John was dead: she could never think him dead till his head were off; she could not think his head was off, till she had it brought her in a platter: a guilty heart never thinks it hath made sure enough. Yea, even after the head was thus brought, they thought him alive again. Guiltiness and security could never lodge together in one bosom.

Herod was sorry, and no doubt in earnest, in the midst of his cups and pleasance.

than his grief. It is true, Herod was a fox, but that subtle beast dissembles not always; when he runs away from the dogs, he means as he does: and if he were formerly willing to have killed John, yet he was unwillingly willing; and so far as he was unwilling to kill him as a prophet, as a just man, so far was he sorry that he must be killed. Had Herod been wise, he had not been perplexed. Had he been so wise as to have engaged himself lawfully, and within due limits, he had not now been so entangled as to have needed sorrow. The folly of sin. ners is guilty of their pain, and draws upon them a late and unprofitable repentance.

But here the act was not past, though the word were past. It was his misconceived entanglement that caused this sorrow, which might have been remedied by flying off. A three-fold cord tied him to the performance: the conscience of his oath, the respect to his guests, a loathness to discontent Herodias and her daughter. Herod had so much religion as to make scruple of an oath; not so much as to make scruple of a murder. No man casts off all justice and piety at once, but, while he gives himself over to some sins, he sticks at others. It is no thank to lewd men, that they are not universally vicious. All God's several laws cannot be violated at once: there are sins contrary to each other; there are sins disagreeing with the lewdest dispositions. There are oppressors that hate drunkenness, there are unclean persons which abhor murder, there are drunkards which hate cruelty. One sin is enough to damn the soul, one leak to drown the vessel.

But O fond Herod, what needed this unjust scrupulousness? Well and safely might thou have shifted the bond of thine oath with a double evasion: one, that this generality of thy promise was only to be construed of lawful acts and motions; that only can we do, which we can justly do; unlawfulness is in the nature of impossibility: the other, that had this engagement been so meant, yet might it be as lawfully rescinded as it was unlawfully made. sinful promise is ill made, worse performed. Thus thou mightst, thou shouldst, have come off fair; where now, holding thyselt by an irreligious religion, tied to thy foolish and wicked oath, thou only goest away with this mitigation, that thou art a scrupulous murderer.

In the meanwhile, if an Herod made such conscience in keeping an unlawful oath, how shall he, in the day of judgment, condemn those Christians which make no con

vain.

Next to his oath, is the respect to his honour. His guests heard his deep engagement, and now he cannot fall off with reputation. It would argue levity and rashness to say and not to do; and what would the world say? The misconceits of the points of honour have cost millions of souls. As many a one doth good only to be seen of men, so many a one doth evil only to satisfy the humour and opinion of others. It is a damnable plausibility so to regard the vain approbation or censure of the beholders, as in the meantime to neglect the allowance or judgment of God. But how ill guests were these! how well worthy of a Herod's table! Had they had but common civility, finding Herod perplexed, they had acquitted him by their dissuasions, and disclaimed the expectation of so bloody a performance: but they rather, to gratify Herodias, make way for so slight and easy a condescent. Even godly princes have complained of the iniquity of their heels: how much more must they needs be ill attended, that give encouragements and examples of lewdness!

Neither was it the least motive, that he was loath to displease his mistress. The damsel had pleased him in her dance; he would not discontent her in breaking his word. He saw Herodias in Salome: the suit, he knew, was the mother's, though in the daughter's lips: both would be displeased in falling off; both would be gratified in yielding. O vain and wicked Herod! he cares not to offend God, to offend his conscience; he cares to offend a wanton mistress. This is one means to fill hell, loathness to displease.

A good heart will rather fall out with all the world than with God, than with his conscience.

The misgrounded sorrow of worldly hearts doth not withhold them from their intended sins. It is enough to vex, not enough to restrain them. Herod was sorry, but he sends the executioner for John's head. One act hath made Herod a tyrant, and John a martyr. Herod a tyrant, in that, without all legal proceedings, without so much as false witnesses, he takes off the

O happy birthday (not of Herod, but) of the Baptist! Now doth John enter into his joy; and in this name is this day ever celebrated of the church. This blessed fore runner of Christ saith of himself, "I must decrease." He is decreased, indeed, and now grown shorter by the head; but he is not so much decreased in stature, as increased in glory. For one minute's pain, he is possessed of endless joy; and as he came before his Saviour into the world, so is he gone before him into heaven.

The head is brought in a charger. What a dish was here for a feast! How prodigiously insatiable is the cruelty of a wicked heart! O blessed service, fit for the table of heaven! It is not for thee, O wicked Herod, not for thee, malicious and wanton Herodias: it is a dish precious and pleasing to the God of heaven, to the blessed angels, who looked upon that head with more delight in his constant fidelity, than the beholders saw it with horror, and Herodias with contentment of revenge.

It is brought to Salome, as the reward of her dance: she presents it to her mother, as the dainty she had longed for. Methinks I see how that chaste and holy countenance was tossed by impure and filthy hands; that true and faithful tongue, those sacred lips, those pure eyes, those mortified cheeks, are now insultingly handled by an incestuous harlot, and made a scorn to the drunken eyes of Herod's guests.

O the wondrous judgments and incomprehensible dispositions of the holy, wise Almighty God! He that was sanctified in the womb, born and conceived with so much note and miracle, "What manner of child shall this be?" lived with so much reverence and observation, is now, at mid

:

CONTEMPLATION V. THE FIVE LOAVES AND TWO FISHES.

WHAT flocking there was after Christ, which way soever he went! how did the kingdom of heaven suffer a holy violence in these his followers! Their importunity drove him from the land to the sea. When he was upon the sea of Tiberias, they followed him with their eyes, and when they saw which way he bent, they followed him so fast on foot, that they prevented his landing. Whether it were that our Saviour staid some while upon the water (as that which yielded him more quietness and freedom of respiration), or whether the foot passage, as it oft falls out, were the shorter cut, by reason of the compasses of the water, and the many elbows of the land, I inquire not; sure I am, the wind did not so swiftly drive on the ship, as desire and zeal drove on these eager clients. Well did Christ see them all the way; well did he know their steps, and guided them; and now he purposely goes to meet them whom he seemed to fly. Nothing can please God more than our importunity in seeking him: when he withdraws himself, it is that he may be more earnestly inquired for. Now then he comes to find them whom he made show to decline: "And seeing a great multitude, he passes from the ship to the shore." That which brought him from heaven to earth, brought him also from the sea to land; his compassion on their souls, that he might teach them; compassion on their bodies, that he might heal and feed them.

Judea was not large, but populous: it could not be but there must be, amongst so many men, many diseased: it is no marvel if the report of so miraculous and universal sanations drew customers. They found three advantages of cure, above the power and performance of any earthly physician; certainty, bounty, ease: certainty, in that all comers were cured without fail; bounty, in that they were cured without charge; ease, in that they were cured without pain. Far be it from us, O Saviour,

That our Saviour might approve himself every way beneficent, he, that had filled the souls of his auditors with spiritual repast, will now fill their bodies with temporal; and he, that had approved himself the universal Physician of his church, will now be known to be the great householder of the world, by whose liberal provision mankind is maintained. He did not more miraculously heal, than he feeds miraculously.

The disciples, having well noted the diligent and importune attendance of the multitude, now towards evening come to their Master, in a care of their repast and discharge: "This is a desert place, and the time is now past; send the multitude away, that they may go into the villages and buy themselves victuals." How well it becomes even spiritual guides to regard the bodily necessities of God's people! This is not directly in our charge, neither may we leave our sacred ministration to serve tables. But yet, as the bodily father must take care for the soul of his child, so must the spiritual have respect to the body. This is all that the world commonly looks after, measuring their pastors more by their dishes than by their doctrine or conversation, as if they had the charge of their bellies, not of their souls; if they have open cellars, it matters not whether their mouths be open. If they be sociable in their carriage, favourable and indulgent to their recreations, full in their cheer, how easily doth the world dispense with either their negligence or enormities! as if the souls of these men lay in their weasand, in their gut. But surely they have reason to expect from their teachers a due proportion of hospitality. An unmeet parsimony is here not more odious than sinful: and where ability wants, yet care may not be wanting. Those preachers, which are so intent upon their spiritual work, that in the meantime they overstrain the weaknesses of their people, holding them in their devotions longer than human frailty will permit, forget not themselves more than their pattern, and must be sent to school to these compassionate disciples, who, when evening was come, sue to Christ for the people's dismission.

The place was desert, the time evening,

Doubtless our Saviour made choice of both these, that there might be both more use and more note of his miracle. Had it been in the morning, their stomach had not been ap, their feeding had been unnecessary: had it been in the village, provision either might have been made, or at least would have seemed made by themselves. But now that it was both desert and evening, there was good ground for the disciples to move, and for Christ to work their sustentation. Then only may we expect, and crave help from God, when we find our need. Superfluous aid can neither be heartily desired, nor earnestly looked for, nor thankfully received from the hands of mercy. Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee." If it be not a burden, it is no casting it upon God. Hence it is, that divine aid comes ever in the very upshot and exigence of our trials, when we have been exercised, and almost tired with long hopes, yea, with despairs of success; that it may be both more longed for ere it come, and, when it comes, more welcome!

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O the faith and zeal of these clients of Christ! they not only follow him from the city into the desert, from delicacy to want, from frequence to solitude, but forget their bodies in pursuit of the food of their souls. Nothing is more hard for a healthful man to forget than his belly: within few hours this will be sure to solicit him, and will take no denials. Yet such sweetness did these hearers find in the spiritual repast, that they thought not on the bodily: the disciples pitied them; they had no mercy on themselves. By how much more a man's mind is taken up with heavenly things, so much less shall he care for earthly. What shall earth be to us, when we are all spirit? and in the meantime, according to the degrees of our intellectual elevations shall be our neglect of bodily contentments.

The disciples think they move well: "Send them away, that they may buy victuals." Here was a strong charity, but a weak faith; a strong charity, in that they would have the people relieved; a weak faith, in that they supposed they could not otherwise be so well relieved. As a man who, when he sees many ways lie before him, takes that which he thinks both fairest and nearest, so do they: this way of relief lay openest to their view, and promised most. Well might they have thought, It is as easy for our Master to feed them, as to heal them; there is an equal facility in all things to a supernatural power: yet they say, "Send them away." In all our projects and suits, we are still ready to move

| for that which is most obvious, most likely, when sometimes that is less agreeable to the will of God.

The All-wise and Almighty arbiter of all things hath a thousand secret means to honour himself in his proceedings with us. It is not for us to carve boldly for ourselves; but we must humbly depend on the disposal of his wisdom and mercy.

Our Saviour's answer gives a strange check to their motion: " They need not depart." Not need! They had no vic. tuals; they must have; there was none to be had. What more need could be? He knew the supply which he intended, though they knew it not. His command was therefore more strange than his assertion, "Give ye them to eat." Nothing gives what it hath not. Had they had victuals, they had not called for a dismission; and not having, how should they give? It was thy wisdom, O Saviour, thus to prepare thy disciples for the intended miracle: thou wouldst not do it abruptly, without an intimation both of the purpose of it, and the necessity. And how modestly dost thou undertake it, without noise, without ostentation! I hear thee not say, I will give them to eat; but, "Give ye:" as if it should be their act, not thine. Thus sometimes it pleaseth thee to require of us what we are not able to perform; either that thou mayest show us what we cannot do, and so humble us; or that thou mayest erect us to a dependence upon thee, which canst do it for us. As when the mother bids the infant come to her, which hath not yet the steady use of his legs, it is that he may cling the faster to her hand or coat for supportation. Thou biddest us impotent wretches to keep thy royal law. Alas! what can we sinners do? there is no one letter of those thy ten words that we are able to keep. This charge of thine intends to show us not our strength, but our weakness. Thus thou wouldst turn our eyes both back to what we might have done, to what we could have done; and upwards to thee in whom we have done it, in whom we can do it. He wrongs thy goodness and justice that misconstrues these thy commands, as if they were of the same nature with those of the Egyptian taskmasters, requiring the brick, and not giving the straw. But in bidd'ng us do what we cannot, thou enablest us to do what thou biddest. Thy precepts, under the gospel, have not only an intimation of our duty, but an habilitation of thy power: as here, when thou badest the disciples to give to the multitude, thou didst mean to supply unto them what thou commandedst to give.