this, disappointed in every effect you might naturally have looked for from them! Every step he takes towards his advancement, something invisible shall pull him back, some unforeseen obstacle shall rise up perpetually in his way, and keep him there. In every application he makes, some untoward circumstance shall blast it. He shall rise early-late take rest-and eat the bread of carefulness; yet some happier man shall still rise up, and ever step in before him, and leave him struggling, to the end of his life, in the very same place in which he first began it.

The history of a second shall in all respects be the contrast to this. He shall come into the world with the most unpromising appearance,— shall set forwards without fortune, without friends, without talents to procure him either the one or the other; nevertheless, you will see this clouded prospect brighten up insensibly, unaccountably, before him; everything presented in his way shall turn out beyond his expectations; in spite of that chain of unsurmountable difficulties which first threatened him, time and chance shall open him a way; a series of successful occurrences shall lead him by the hand to the summit of honour and fortune, and, in a word, without giving him the pains of thinking, or the credit of projecting it, shall place him in safe possession of all that ambition could wish for.

The historics of the lives and fortunes of men are full of instances of this nature,-where favourable times and lucky accidents have done for them what wisdom or skill could not; and there is scarce any one who has lived long in the world, who, upon looking backwards, will not discover such a mixture of these in the many successful turns which have happened in this life, as to leave him very little reason to dispute against the fact, and, I should hope, as little upon the conclusions to be drawn from it. Some, indeed, from a superficial view of this representation of things, have atheistically inferred that, because there was so much of lottery in this life, and mere casualty seemed to have such a share in the disposal of our affairs, that the providence of God stood neuter and unconcerned in their several workings, leaving them to the mercy of time and chance to be furthered or disappointed as such blind agents directed; whereas, in truth, the very opposite conclusion follows: for, consider, if a superior intelligent Power did not sometimes cross and overrule events in this world, then our policies and designs in it would always answer according to the wisdom and stratagem in which they were laid, and every cause, in the course of things, would produce its natural effect without variation. Now, as this is not the case, it necessarily follows, from Solomon's reasoning, that if the race is not to the swift, if knowledge and learning do not always secure

men from want, nor care and industry always make men rich, nor art and skill infallibly make men high in the world, that there is some other cause which mingles itself in human affairs, and governs and turns them as it pleases; which cause can be no other than the First Cause of all things, and the secret and overruling providence of that Almighty God who, though his dwelling is so high, yet he humbleth himself to behold the things that are done on earth, raising up the poor out of the dust, and lifting the beggar from the dunghill, and, contrary to all hopes, putting him with princes, even with the princes of his people; which, by the way, was the case of David, who makes the acknowledgment. And, no doubt, one reason why God has selected to his own disposal so many instances as this, where events have run counter to all probabilities, was to give testimony to his providence in governing the world, and to engage us to a consideration and dependence upon it, for the event and success of our undertakings. For, undoubtedly, as I said, it should seem but suitable to nature's laws that the race should ever be to the swift, and the battle to the strong; it is reasonable that the best contrivances and means should have best success; and since it often falls out otherwise in the case of man, where the wisest projects are overthrown, and the most hopeful means are blasted, and time and chance happen to all, you must call on the Deity to untie this knot: for though, at sundry times, sundry events fall out which we, who look no further than the events themselves, call chance, because they fall out quite contrary both to our intentions and our hopes, yet, at the same time, in respect of God's providence overruling in these events, it were profane to call them chance, for they are pure designation, and, though invisible, are still the regular dispensations of the superintending power of that Almighty Being from whom all the laws and powers of nature are derived, who, as he has appointed, so holds them as instruments in his hand, and, without invading the liberty and free-will of his creatures, can turn the passions and desires of their hearts to fulfil his own righteousness, and work such effects in human affairs, which to us seem merely casual, but to him certain and determined, and what his infinite wisdom sees necessary to be brought about for the government and preservation of the world, over which Providence perpetually presides.

When the sons of Jacob had cast their brother Joseph into the pit for his destruction, one would think, if ever any incident which concerned the life of man deserved to be called chance, it was this, that the company of the Ishmaelites should happen to pass by, in that

1 Vide Tillotson's Sermon on this subject.

great joy and festivity of that promised day, when they were to return once more to their own land, to enter upon their ancient possessions, and enjoy again all the privileges they had lost; and, amongst others, and what was above them all, the favour and protection of God, and the continuation of his mercies to them and their posterity.

To make, therefore, the impression of his change the stronger upon their minds, he gives a very pathetic representation of the preceding sorrow on that day when they were first led away captive.

Thus saith the Lord, A voice was heard in Rama, lamentation and bitter weeping; Rachael weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted, because they were not.

To enter into the full sense and beauty of this description, it is to be remembered that the tomb of Rachael, Jacob's beloved wife, as we read in the 35th of Genesis, was situated near Rama, and betwixt that place and Bethlehem. Upon which circumstance, the prophet raises one of the most affecting scenes that could be conceived; for as the tribes, in their sorrowful journey betwixt Rama and Bethlehem, in their way to Babylon, were supposed to pass by this monumental pillar of their ancestor Rachael, Jacob's wife, the prophet, by a common liberty in rhetoric, introduces her as rising up out of her sepulchre, and as the common mother of two of their tribes, weeping for her children, bewailing the sad catastrophe of her posterity led away into a strange land,refusing to be comforted because they were not; lost, and cut off from their country, and, in all likelihood, never to be restored back to her again.

The Jewish interpreters say, upon this, that the patriarch Jacob buried Rachael in this very place, foreseeing, by the spirit of prophecy, that his posterity should that way be led captive, that she might, as they passed her, intercede for them.

But this fanciful superstructure upon the passage seems to be little else than a mere dream of some of the Jewish doctors; and, indeed, had they not dreamt it when they did, 'tis great odds but some of the Romish dreamers would have hit upon it before now. For, as it favours the doctrine of intercessions, if there had not been undeniable vouchers for the real inventors of the conceit, one should much sooner have sought for it amongst the oral traditions of this church, than in the Talmud, where it is.

But this by the bye. There is still another interpretation of the words here cited by St. Matthew, which altogether excludes this scenical representation I have given of them. By which, 'tis thought that the lamentation of Rachael, here described, has no immediate reference to Rachael, Jacob's wife, but that it simply alludes to the sorrows of her descen.

dants, the distressed mothers of the tribes of Benjamin and Ephraim, who might accompany their children led into captivity as far as Rama, in their way to Babylon, who wept and wailed upon this sad occasion, and, as the prophet describes them in the person of Rachael, refusing to be comforted for the loss of her children; looking upon their departure without hope or prospect of ever beholding a return.

Whichever of the two senses you give the words of the prophet, the application of them by the evangelist is equally just and faithful; for, as the former scene he relates was transacted upon the very same stage, in the same district of Bethlehem, near Rama, where so many mothers of the same tribe now suffered this second most affecting blow,-the words of Jeremiah, as the evangelist observes, were literally accomplished; and no doubt in that horrid day a voice was heard again in Rama, lamentation and bitter weeping, Rachael weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted,-every Bethlehemitish mother involved in this calamity, beholding it with hopeless sorrow, gave vent to it,-each one bewailing her children, and lamenting the hardness of their lot, with the anguish of a heart as incapable of consolation as they were of redress. Monster! could no consideration of all this tender sorrow stay thy hands? Could no reflection upon so much bitter lamentation throughout the coasts of Bethlehem, interpose and plead in behalf of so many wretched objects as this tragedy would make? Was there no way open to ambition, but that thou must trample upon the affections of nature? Could no pity for the innocence of childhood, no sympathy for the yearnings of parental love, incline thee to some other measures for thy security, but thou must thus pitilessly rush in, take the victim by violence, tear it from the embraces of the mother, offer it up before her eyes, leave her disconsolate for ever, brokenhearted with a loss, so affecting in itself, so circumstanced with horror, that no time, how friendly soever to the mournful, should ever be able to wear out the impression?

There is nothing in which the mind of man is more divided than in accounts of this horrid nature. For, when we consider man as fashioned by his Maker,-innocent and upright, full of the tenderest dispositions, with a heart inclining him to kindness and the love and protection of his species,-this idea of him would almost shake the credit of such accounts; so that, to clear them, we are forced to take a second view of man, very different from this favourable one, in which we insensibly represent him to our imaginations,—that is, we are obliged to consider him, not as he was made, but as he is,-a creature, by the violence and irregularity of his passions, capable of being perverted from all these friendly and benevolent

like Ishmael's, is against every man, he concludes that every man's hand, in course, is against him.

apparent generosity of his behaviour, he entirely confuted the whole charge; and so ingratiated himself with the Roman senate, and won the heart of Augustus (as he had that of Anthony before) that he ever after had his favour and kindness, which I cannot mention without adding, that it is an eternal stain upon the

His own sons, two hopeful youths, he cut off by a public execution! The worst men have natural affection;-and such a stroke as this would run so contrary to the natural workings of it, that you are forced to suppose the impulse of some more violent inclination to overrule and conquer it. And so it was; for the Jewish historian tells us 'twas jealousy of power, his darling object,--of which he feared they would one day or other dispossess him: sufficient inducement to transport a man of such a temper into the bloodiest excesses.

Thus far this one fatal and extravagant passion accounts for the dark side of Herod's character. This governing principle being first laid open, all his other bad actions follow in course, like so many symptomatic complaints from the same distemper.

Let us see if this was not the case even of his virtues too.

At first sight it seems a mystery how a man so black as Herod has been thus far described, should be able to support himself in the favour and friendship of so wise and penetrating a body of men as the Roman senate, of whom he held his power. To counterbalance the weight of so bad and detested a character, and be able to bear it up, as Herod did, one would think he must have been master of some great secret, worth inquiring after. He was so. But that secret was no other than what appears on this reverse of his character. He was a person of great address,-popular in his outward behaviour. He was generous, prince-like in his entertainments and expenses. The world was then as corrupt at least as now, and Herod understood it,-knew at what price it was to be bought, and what qualities would bid the highest for its good word and approbation.

And, in truth, he judged this matter so well, that, notwithstanding the general odium and prepossession which arose against so hateful a character,-in spite of all the impressions from so many repeated complaints of his cruelties and oppressions, yet he stemmed the torrent, and, by the specious display of these popular virtues, bore himself up against it all his life; so that at length, when he was summoned to Rome to answer for his crimes, Josephus tells us that, by the mere magnificence of his expenses, and the

his countenance and protection to so bad a man, for so mean and base a consideration.

From this point of view, if we look back upon Herod, his best qualities will shrink into little room; and how glittering soever in appearance, when brought to this balance, are found wanting. And, in truth, if we would not willingly be deceived in the value of any virtue, or set of virtues, in so complex a character, we must call them to this very account; examine whom they serve, what passion and what principle they have for their master. When this is understood, the whole clue is unravelled at once, and the character of Herod, complicated as it is given us in history, when thus analysed, is summed up in three words, That he was a man of unbounded ambition, who stuck at nothing to gratify it;' so that not only his vices were ministerial to his ruling passion, but his virtues too (if they deserve the name) were drawn in and listed into the same service.

Thus much for the character of Herod,-the critical review of which has many obvious uses, to which I may trust you, having time but to mention that particular one which first led me into this examination,-namely, that all objections against the evangelist's account of this day's slaughter of the Bethlehemitish infants,from the incredibility of so horrid an account,are silenced by this account of the man; since in this he acted but like himself, and just as you would expect, in the same circumstances, from every man of so ambitious a head and so bad a heart. Consider what havoc ambition has made! how often the same tragedy has been acted upon larger theatres; where not only the innocence of childhood or the grey hairs of the aged have found no protection, but whole countries, without distinction, have been put to the sword! or, what is as cruel, have been driven forth to nakedness and famine, to make way for new ones, under the guidance of this passion. For a specimen of this, reflect upon the story related by Plutarch, when, by the order of the Roman senate, seventy populous cities were unawares sacked and destroyed, at one prefixed hour, by P. Æmilius, by whom one hundred and fifty thousand unhappy people were driven in one day into captivity, to be sold to the highest bidder, to end their days in cruel labour and anguish! Astonishing as the account before us is, it vanishes into nothing from such views, since it is plain, from all history, that there is no wickedness too great for so unbounded a cause; and that the most horrid