The sword devours twenty thousand of them; and the wood devours more than the sword. It must needs be a very universal rebellion, wherein so many perished. What virtue or merits can assure the hearts of the vulgar, when so gracious a prince finds so many revolters?

Let no man look to prosper by rebellion: the very thickets, and stakes, and pits, and wild beasts of the woods, shall conspire to the punishment of traitors. Amongst the rest, see how a fatal oak hath singled out the ringleader of this hateful insurrection; and will at once serve for his hangman and gallows, by one of those spreading arms snatching him away to speedy execution.

Absalom was comely, and he knew it well enough. His hair was no small piece of his beauty, nor matter of his pride. It was his wont, to cut it once a year; not for that it was too long, but too heavy: his heart would have borne it longer, if his neck had not complained. And now, the justice of God hath platted a halter of those locks. Those tresses had formerly hanged loosely dishevelled on his shoulders; now he hangs by them. He had wont to weigh his hair, and was proud to find it so heavy; now his hair poiseth the weight of his body, and makes his burden his torment. It is no marvel, if his own hair turned traitor to him, who durst rise up against his father. That part, which is misused by man to sin, is commonly employed by God to revenge. The revenge, that it worketh for God, makes amends for the offence, whereto it is drawn against God. The very beast whereon Absalom sat, as weary to bear so unnatural a burden, resigns over his load to the tree of justice. There hangs Absalom between heaven and earth, as one that was hated and abandoned both of earth and heaven. As if God meant to prescribe this punishment for traitors, Absalom, Ahitophel, and Judas, die all one death. So let them perish, that dare lift up their hand against God's anointed.

The honest soldier sees Absalom hanging in the oak, and dares not touch him: his hands were held with the charge of David, 'Beware that none touch the young man Absalom.' Joab, on that intelligence, sees him, and smites him with no less than three darts. What the sol

dier forbore in obedience, the captain doth in zeal: not fearing to prefer his sovereign's safety, to his command; and more tendering the life of a king and peace of his country, than the weak affection of a father. I dare not sit judge, betwixt this zeal and that obedience; betwixt the captain and the soldier: the one was a good subject, the other a good patriot; the one loved the king, the other loved David, and out of love disobeyed; the one meant as well as the other sped.

As if God meant to fulfil the charge of his anointed, without any blame of his subjects, it pleased him to execute that immediate revenge on the rebel, which would have dispatched him without hand or dart. Only the mule and the oak conspired to this execution; but that death would have required more leisure, than it was safe for Israel to give; and still life would give hope of rescue. To cut off all fears, Joab lends the oak three darts to help forward so needful a work of justice.

All Israel did not afford so firm a friend to Absalom as Joab had been. Who but Joab had suborned the witty widow of Tekoah, to sue for the recalling of Absalom, from his three years' exile? Who but he went to fetch him from Geshur to Jerusalem? Who but he fetched him from his house at Jerusalem, whereto he had been two years confined, to the face, to the lips of David? Yet now he, that was his solicitor for the king's favor, is his executioner against the king's charge. With honest hearts, all respects, either of blood or friendship, cease in the case of treason. Well hath Joab forgotten himself to be a friend to him, who had forgotten himself to be a son. Even civilly, the king is our common father; our country our common mother: nature hath no private relations, which should not gladly give place to these. He is neither father, nor son, nor brother, nor friend, that conspires against the common parent. Well doth he, who spake parables for his master's son, now speak darts to his king's enemy; and pierces that heart, which was false to so great a father. Those darts are seconded by Joab's followers: each man tries his weapon on so fair a mark.

One death is not enough for Absalom: he is at once

hanged, shot, mangled, stoned. Justly was he lift up to the oak, who had lift up himself against his father and sovereign: justly he is pierced with darts, who had pierced his father's heart with so many sorrows: justly is hemangled, who hath dismembered and divided all Israel: justly is he stoned, who hath not only cursed, but pursued his own parent.

Now Joab sounds the retreat; and calls off his eager troops from execution, however he knew what his rebellious countrymen had deserved in following an Absalom. Wise commanders know how to put a difference, betwixt the heads of a faction, and the misguided multitude; and can pity the one, while they take revenge on the other.

So did Absalom esteem himself, that he thought it would be a wrong to the world, to want the memorial of so goodly a person. God had denied him sons: how just it was, that he should want a son, who had robbed his father of a son; who would have robbed himself of a father, his father of a kingdom! It had been pity, so poisonous a plant should have been fruitful. His pride shall supply nature: he rears up a stately pillar in the king's dale, and calls it by his own name; that he might live in dead stones, who could not survive in living issue: and now, behold this curious pile ends in a rude heap, which speaks no language, but the shame of that carcass which it covers. Hear this, ye glorious fools, that care not to perpetuate any memory of yourselves to the world, but of ill-deserving greatness. The best of this affectation is vanity; the worst, infamy and dishonor: whereas, The memorial of the just shall be blessed; and, if his humility shall refuse an epitaph, and choose to hide himself under the bare earth, God himself shall engrave his name on the pillar of eternity.

There now lies Absalom in the pit, under a thousand grave-stones, in every of which is written his everlasting reproach. Well might this heap overlive that pillar; for when that ceased to be a pillar, it began to be a heap; neither will it cease to be a monument of Absalom's shame, while there are stones to be found on earth. Even at this day, very pagans and pilgrims that pass that way, cast each man a stone unto that heap; and are wont to

say, in a solemn execration, Cursed be the parricide Absalom, and cursed be all unjust persecutors of their parents, for ever.' Fasten your eyes on this woful spectacle, O all ye rebellious and ungracious children, which rise up against the loins and thighs from which ye fell; and know, that it is the least part of your punishment, that your carcasses rot in the earth, and your name in ignominy: these do but shadow out those eternal sufferings of your souls, for your foul and unnatural disobedience..

Absalom is dead. Who shall report it to his father? Surely Joab was not so much afraid of the fact, as of the message. There are busy spirits that love to carry news, though thankless, though purposeless; such as Ahimaaz, the son of Zadok, who importunately thrust himself into this service. Wise Joab, who well saw how unwelcome tidings must be the burden of the first post, dissuades him in vain. He knew David too well, to employ a friend to that errand. An Ethiopian servant was a fitter bearer of such a message, than the son of the priest. The entertainment

of the person doth so follow the quality of the news, that David could argue afar off,' He is a good man; he cometh with good tidings.' Oh how welcome deserve those messengers to be, that bring us the glad tidings of salvation; that assure us of the foil of all spiritual enemies; and tell us of nothing but victories, and crowns, and kingdoms! If we think not their feet beautiful, our hearts are foul with infidelity and secure worldliness.

So wise is Ahimaaz grown by Joab's intimation, that, though he outwent Cushi in his pace, he suffers Cushi to outgo him in his tale; cunningly suppressing that part, which he knew must be most necessarily delivered, and unpleasingly received.

As our care is wont to be where our love is, David's first word is not, How fares the host? but 'How fares the young man Absalom ?' Like a wise and faithful messenger, Cushi answers by an honest insinuation; 'The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is;' implying, both what was done, and why David should approve it being done. How is the good king thunder-struck, with that Div. XXXI.

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word of his blackamoor! who, as if he were at once bereaved of all comfort, and cared not to live but in the name of Absalom, goes and weeps and cries out, O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee; O Absalom, my son, my son!' What is this we hear? That he, whose life Israel valued at ten thousand of theirs, should be exchanged with a traitor's? That a good king, whose life was sought, should wish to lay it down for the preservation of his murderer? The best men have not wont to be the least passionate. But what shall we say to that love of thine, O Saviour, who hast said of us wretched traitors, not, 'Would God I had died for you;' but I will die; I do die; I have died for you? Oh love, like thyself, infinite, incomprehensible; whereat the angels of Heaven stand yet amazed; wherewith thy saints are ravished. Turn away thine eyes from me; for they overcome me. O thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy voice: cause us to hear it; that we may, in our measure, answer thy love, and enjoy it for ever.'-2 Sam. xvii. xviii.

SHEBA'S REBELLION.

It was the doom, which God passed on the man after his own heart, by the mouth of Nathan, that the sword should never depart from his house, for the blood of Uriah after that wound healed by remission, yet this scar remains; Absalom is no sooner cast down into the pit, than Sheba the son of Bichri is up in arms. If David be not plagued, yet he shall be corrected; first by the rod of a son, then of a subject: he had lift up his hand against a faithful subject; now a faithless dares to lift up his hand against him.

Malice, like some hereditary sickness, runs in a blood: Saul, and Shimei, and Sheba, were all of a house. That ancient grudge was not yet dead. The fire of the house of Jemini was but raked up, never thoroughly out; and now, that, which did but smoke in Shimei, flames in Sheba: although even through this chastisement, it is not hard to discern a type of that perpetual succession of enmity, which should be raised against the true king of Israel. O Son of David, when didst thou ever want ene