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: he is sure that what God commands is good, that what he promises 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 deliberating, 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 execution; 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 repented 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 Abraham 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 had 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?" 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 father to such a son! Still he persists, and conceals; and, where he meant not, prophesies, "My son, God shall provide a lamb for the burntoffering."

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-offering. If my blood would have excused thee, how many thousand times had I rather to give thee my 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 sacrifice 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 cheerfully unto thy glory; and know, that God loves thee above others, since he requires thee alone to be consecrated in sacrifice to himself.

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, how he 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 hands 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, entreats his father to do that which he would have

done, though he had dissuaded him. noly emulation of faith! O blessed agreement of the sacrificer and oblation! 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 before-hand burnt inwardly with the heavenly fire of zeal and devotion.

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 bleeding 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 Moriah, 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 unexpected 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 overlooks all impossibilities. His heart tells him, that the same hand which raised Isaac from 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 suddenly the angel of God interrupts him, forbids him, commends him. The voice of God was never so welcome, never so sweet, never 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 ofttimes harsh in the beginnings and proceeding, but in the conclusion always comfortable. True spiritual comforts are commonly late and sudden. God defers on purpose, that our trials may be perfect, our deliverance welcome, our recompense 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. Abraham had never been so blessed in his seed, if he had not neglected Isaac for God.

The only way to find comfort in an earthly thing, 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 frustrate, 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, proffers 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 one dying, restored in the other. So Abraham, while he exercises 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 carnal 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 Abraham, that cannot sacrifice with Abraham.

CONTEMPLATION V.-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 every 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 was blessed in that which was left him. God never suffers any man to lose by an humble remission of his right in a desire for peace.

Wealth had made Lot not only undutiful but covetous: he sees the goodly 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 affections. 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 he is 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 prey to merciless 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 judgments. 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 chaff? 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 he would be a guest of Sodom, yet, because he would not entertain their sins, he becomes an 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 malefactors.

Who can be ashamed of that which did not misbeseem the very angels of God! Where should the angels lodge but with Lot! 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, stirred up with the fury of envy and lust, and dare require to do that in troops, which, to act single, had been too abominable to imagine natural. Continuance and society in evil makes wicked men outrageous and impudent. It is not enough for Lot to be the witness, but he must be the bawd also: "Bring forth these men that we may know them.'

Behold even the Sodomites speak modestly, though their acts and intents be villanous. What a shame is it for those which profess purity of heart, to speak filthily! The good man craves and pleads the laws of hospitality; and, when he 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 defiled his guests, it had been only theirs. There can be no warrant for 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, when they are troubled, yield inconsiderate motions, as water that is violently stirred, sends up bubbles: God meant better to Lot, than to suffer his weak offer to be accepted. Those which are bent upon villany are more exasperated by dissuasion, 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 by afflictions, and worse with admonitions, God finds it time to strike. Now Lot's guests begin to show 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 they went groping in the streets, and cursing those whom they could not find, Lot with the angels is in secure light, and sees them miserable, and foresees 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 fiery, which shall be the beginning of an everlasting darkness, and a fire unquenchable. Now they have done sinning, and God begins to judge. Wickedness 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 by 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 prophet, 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-mor

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row differ from other days? Who ever saw it rain fire? Or whence should that brimstone come? Or if such showers must fall, how shall nothing burn but this valley? 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 safety; they knew God could not strike Sodom till Lot was gone out, and that Lot could not be safe within those walls. We are all naturally in Sodom: if God did not haul us out, while we linger, we should be condemned with the world. If God meet with a very good field, ne 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 been 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 consumed 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 importance. Obedience is as well tried, and disobedience as well punished, 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, he could not fly from sin. He who could not be tainted with uncleanness in Sodom, is overtaken with drunkenness and incest in a cave. Rather than Satan shall not 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 pillar 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 to all bestial affections and acts. Wine knows no difference either of persons or sins. No doubt, Lot was afterwards ashamed of his incestuous seed, and now wished he had come alone out of Sodom: yet even this unnatural bed was blessed with increase; and one of our Saviour's worthy ancestors sprung after from this line. God's election is not tied to our means, neither are blessings or curses ever traduced. The chaste bed of holy parents hath ofttimes bred a monstrous generation; and contrarily, God hath raised sometimes an 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 tiled field: thus will God magnify the freedom of his own choice, and let us know that we are not born, but made, good.

BOOK III.

CONTEMPLATION I.-OF JACOB AND ESAU.

Or all the patriarchs, none made 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 an husband; for the one he gave himself over to the knife of his father,

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 desire ofttimes 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 soul: no sooner is the new man formed in us, but the flesh conflicts with the spirit. There is no grace where is no unquietness. Esau alone would not have striven. Nature will ever agree with itself. Never any 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 actions which we know not of, are not without presage and signification!

These two were the champions of two nations the field was their mother's womb; their quarrel precedency and superiority. Esau got the right of nature, Jacob of grace; yet that there might be some pretence of equality, 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 is 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 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, who will not rather die than forego his birthright.

But what hath careless Esau lost, if,

having sold his birthright, 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 now not more blind in his eyes, than his affections. God had forewarned him that the elder should serve the younger, yet Isaac goes about to bless Esau.

It was as 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 but his own. The dearest of God's saints have been sometimes transported with natural affections. He saw himself preferred to Ishmael, though the elder. He saw his father wilfully forgetting nature 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 beguile 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? 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 affections of the parents are divided: that the promise might be fulfilled, Rebecca's craft shall answer Isaac's partiality; Isaac would unjustly turn Esau into Jacob; Rebecca doth as cunningly turn Jacob into Esau: her desire was good; her means were unlawful. God doth ofttimes effect his just will by our weaknesses; yet neither thereby justifying 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 beho.d a true blessing; but to the man, not to the means. 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