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 shalt take him from mine altar, that he may die. He knew Joab's murders had not been more presumptuous, 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 David built some part of Jerusalem, Joab built the rest; so as Jerusalem 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 his 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 burial, 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 Israelites.

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's remission, Shimei dwells securely in Bahurim, a town of the tribe of

Ado.

Benjamin. Doubtless, when he saw so round justice done upon nijah and Joab, his guilty heart could not think Solomon's message portended ought but his execution; and now he cannot but be well pleased with so easy conditions, of dwelling at Jerusalem, and not passing over the brook Kidron. What more delightful place could he 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 exactor of that which his father had remitted, prudently lays insensible 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 restraint. 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, notwithstanding 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 are obnoxious! Without delay is Shimei complained of, convented, 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 before 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.

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: whoever 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 sovereign 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 pretended 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 dare 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 blasphemies against his own divine majesty! It is a fearful word, he should not be just, if he should hold these guiltless. 1 Kings ü.

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 unwarrantable) 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 him. The night cannot but be happy, whose day hath been holy.

It was no unusual course with God, to reveal himself unto his

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, Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, it shall be given you? Only give us grace, not to be wanting unto thee, and we 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 intent upon wisdom by day, he had not made it his suit in his dream. There needs no leisure of deliberation: the heart was so forestalled with the love and admiration of wisdom, that, not abiding the least motion of a competition, it fastens on that grace it had longed 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 rubbish 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 beholden 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 well.

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 occasions 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. It is 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 children were alike for feature, for age; the mothers were alike for reputation. Here can be no evidence from others' eyes. Whether'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 perhaps plagued the innocent, and added pain to the misery of her 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 produced. They two dwelt apart under one roof; aud if some neighbours 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 felt it not; and, if all her senses could have witnessed it, yet here was but the affirmation of the one, against the denial of the other, which in persons alike credible do but counterpoise.