BOOK XIV.

CONTEMPLATION I. -SAUL IN DAVID'S CAVE.

Ir was the strange lot of David, that those whom he pursued, preserved him from those whom he had preserved. The Philistines, whom David had newly smitten in Keilah, call off Saul from smiting David in the wilderness, when there was but a hillock betwixt him and death. Wicked purposes are easily checked, not easily broken off. Saul's sword is scarce dry from the blood of the Philistines, when it thirsts anew for the blood of David, and now, in a renewed chace, hunts him dry-foot through every wilderness. The very desert is too fair a refuge for innocence. The hills and rocks are searched in an angry jealousy; the very wild goats of the mountains were not allowed to be companions for him, who had no fault but his virtue. O the seemingly unequal distribution of these earthly things! Cruelty and oppression reign in a palace, while goodness lurks among the rocks and caves, and thinks it happiness enough to steal a life.

Like a dead man, David is fain to be hid under the earth, and seeks the comfort of protection in darkness: and now the wise providence of God leads Saul to his enemy without blood. He, which before brought them within a hill's distance without interview, brings them now both within one roof; so as that, while Saul seeks David and finds him not, he is found of David unsought. If Saul had known his own opportunities, how David and his men had interred themselves, he had saved a treble labour of chace, of execution, and burial; for had he but stopt the mouth of that cave, his enemies had laid themselves down in their own graves. The wisdom of God thinks fit to hide from evil men and spirits, those means and seasons, which might be, if they had been taken, most prejudicial to his own. We had been oft foiled, if Satan could but have known our hearts. Sometimes we lie open to evils, and happy it is for us, that he only knows it, who pities instead of tempting us.

It is not long since Saul said of David, lodged then in Keilah, God hath delivered him into mine hands, for he is shut in, seeing he is come into a city that hath gates and bars; but now contrarily God delivers Saul, ere he was aware, into the hands of David, and without the help of gates and bars, hath inclosed him within the valley of death. How just is it with

God, that those who seek mischief to others, find it to themselves, and, even while they are spreading nets, are ensnared, their deliberate plotting of evil is surprised with a sudden judgment.

How amazedly must David needs look, when he saw Saul enter into the cave where himself was! What is this, thinks he, which God hath done? is this presence purposed or casual? is Saul here to pursue or to tempt me? where suddenly the action bewrays the intent, and tells David, that Saul sought secrecy and not him. The superfluity of his maliciousness brought him into the wilderness; the necessity of nature led him into the cave. Even those actions, wherein we place shame, are not exempted from a providence. The fingers of David's followers itched to seize upon their master's enemy; and that they might not seem led so much by faction as by faith, they urge David with a promise from God: The day is come, whereof the Lord saith unto thee, Behold, I will deliver thine enemy into thine hand, and thou shalt do unto him as it shall seem good to thee. This argument seemed to carry such com mand with it, as that David not only may, but must imbrue his hands in blood, unless he will be found wanting to God and himself. Those temptations are most powerful. which fetch their force from the pretence of a religious obedience: whereas those which are raised from arbitrary and private respects, admit of an easy dispensation.

If there was such a prediction, one clause of it was ambiguous, and they take it at the worst: Thou shalt do to him as shall seem good to thee. That might not seem good to him, which seemed evil unto God. There is nothing more dangerous than to make construction of God's purposes out of eventual appearance. If carnal probabilities might be the rule of our judgment, what could God seem to intend other than Saul's death, in offering him naked into the hands of those whom he unjustly persecuted? How could David's soldiers think that God hath sent Saul thither on any other errand, than to fetch his bane? And if Saul could have seen his own danger, he had given himself for dead: for his heart, guilty to his own bloody desire, could not but have expected the same measure which it meant. But wise and holy David, not transported either with misconceit of the event, or fury of passion, or solicitation of his followers, dares make no other use of this accident than the trial of his loyalty, and the inducement of his peace. It had been as easy for him to cut the throat of Saul as

Ρ

his garment; but now his coat only shall be the worse, not his person; neither doth he in this maiming of a cloak seek his own revenge, but a monument of his innocence. Before Saul rent Samuel's garment: now David cutteth Saul's; both were significant; the rending of the one, signified the kingdom torn out of those unworthy hands; the cutting of the other, that the life of Saul might have been as easily cut off.

Saul needs no other monitor of his own danger than what he wears. The upper garment of Saul was laid aside while he went to cover his feet, so as the cut of the garment did not threaten any touch of the body; yet even the violence offered to a remote garment strikes the heart of David, which finds a present remorse for harmfully touching that which once touched the person of his master. Tender consciences are moved to regret at those actions, which strong hearts pass over with a careless ease. It troubled not Saul to seek after the blood of a righteous servant. There is no less difference of consciences than stomachs: some stomachs will digest the hardest meats, and turn over substances, not in their nature edible, while others surfeit of the lightest food, and complain even of dainties. Every gracious heart is in some measure scrupulous, and finds more safety in fear than in presumption: and if it be so straight as to curb itself in from the liberty which it might take in things which are not unlawful, how much less will it dare to take scope unto evil! By how much that state is better, where nothing is allowed, than where all things, by so much is the strict and timorous conscience better than the lawless. There is good likelihood of that man who is any ways scrupulous of his ways: but he, who makes no bones of his actions, is apparently hopeless.

Since David's followers pleaded God's testimony to him as a motive to blood, David appeals to the same God for his preservation from blood: The Lord keep me from doing that thing to my master, the Lord's anointed. And now the good man hath work enough to defend both himself and his persecutor: himself from the importunate necessity of doing violence, and his master from suffering it. It was not more easy to rule his own hands, than difficult to rule a multitude. David's troops consisted of malcontents; all that were in distress, in bitterness of soul, were gathered to him. Many, if never so well ordered, are hard to command; a few, if disorderly, more hard; many and disorderly must needs be so much the hardest of all, that David

never achieved any victory like unto this, wherein he first overcame himself, then his soldiers.

And what was the charm wherewith David allayed those raging spirits of his followers? No other but this, He is the anointed of the Lord. That holy oil was the antidote for his blood: Saul did not lend David so impierceable an armour, when he should encounter Goliah, as David now lent him in this plea of his unction. Which of all the discontented outlaws that lurked in that cave durst put forth his hand against Saul, when they once heard, He is the Lord's anointed? Such an impression of awe hath the divine Providence caused his image to make in the hearts of men, as that it makes traitors cowards, so as instead of striking they tremble; how much more lawless, than the outlaws of Israel, are those professed ring-leaders of Christianity, which teach, and practise, and encourage, and reward, and canonize the violation of majesty! It is not enough for those, who are commanders of others, to refrain their own hands from doing evil, but they must carefully prevent the iniquity of their heels, else they shall be justly reputed to do that by others, which, in their own persons, they avoided. The laws both of God and man pre-suppose us in some sort answerable for our charge; as taking it for granted, that we should not undertake those reins which we cannot manage.

As his

There was no reason David should lose the thanks of so noble a demonstration of his loyalty, whereto he trusts so much, that he dares call back the man by whom he was pursued, and make him judge, whether that fact had not deserved a life. act, so his word and gesture, imported nothing but humble obedience; neither was there more meekness than force in that seasonable persuasion, wherein he lets Saut see the error of his credulity; the unjust slanders of maliciousness, the opportunity of his revenge, the proof of his forbearance, the undeniable evidence of his innocence; and, after a lowly disparagement of himself, appeals to God for judgment, for protection.

So lively and feeling oratory did Saul find in the lap of his garment, and the lips of David, that it is not in the power of his envy, or ill nature, to hold out any longer. "Is this thy voice, my son David? And Saul lift up his voice and wept, and said, Thou art more righteous than I." He whose harp was wont to quiet the frenzy of Saul, hath now by his words calmed his fury: so that now he sheds tears in

stead of blood, and confesses his own wrong, and David's integrity; and, as if he were now again entered into the bounds of Najoth in Ramah, he prays and prophesies good to him, whom he maliced for good: "The Lord render thee good for that thou hast done to me this day; for now, behold, I know that thou shalt be king."

There is no heart made of flesh, that some time or other relents not; even flint and marble will, in some weather, stand on drops. I cannot think these tears and protestations feigned. Doubtless Saul meant as he said, and passed through sensible fits of good and evil. Let no man think himself the better for good motions. The praise and benefit of those guests is not in the receipt but the retention.

Who, that had seen this meeting, could but have thought that all had been sure on David's side? What can secure us, if not tears, and prayers, and oaths? Doubtless David's men, which knew themselves obnoxious to laws and creditors, began to think of some new refuge, as making account this new-pieced league would be everlasting: they looked when Saul would take David home to the court, and dissolve his army, and recompense that unjust persecution with just honour; when, behold, in the loose, Saul goes home, but David and his men go up unto the hold. Wise David knows Saul not to be more kind than untrusty; and therefore had rather seek safety in his hold, than in the hold of a hollow and unsteady friendship. Here are good words, but no security; which therefore an experienced man gives the hearing, but stands the while upon his guard. No charity binds us to a trust of those whom we have found faithless. Credulity upon weak grounds, after palpable disappointments, is the daughter of folly. A man that is weatherwise, though he find an abatement of the storm, yet will not stir from under his shelter, while he sees it thick in the wind. Distrust is the just gain of unfaithfulness.

CONTEMPLATION II.-NABAL AND ABIGAIL.

Ir innocency could have secured from Saul's malice, David had not been perse. cuted; and yet, under that wicked king, aged Samuel dies in his bed. That there might be no place for envy, the good prophet had retired himself to the schools. Yet he, that hated David for what he should be, did no less hate Samuel for what he had been. Even in the midst of Saul's

malignity, there remained in his heart im. pressions of awfulness unto Samuel; he feared where he loved not. The restraint of God curbeth the rage of his most violent enemies, so as they cannot do their worst. As good husbands do not put all their corn to the oven, but save some for seed, so doth God ever in the worst of persecutions.

Samuel is dead, David banished, Saul tyrannizeth: Israel hath good cause to mourn. It is no marvel if this lamentation be universal: there is no Israelite that feeleth not the loss of a Samuel. A good prophet is the common treasure, wherein every gracious soul hath a share. That man hath a dry heart, which can part with God's prophet without tears.

Nabal was, according to his name, foolish, yet rich and mighty. Earthly possessions are not always accompanied with wit and grace. Even the line of faithful Caleb will afford an ill-conditioned Nabal. Virtue is not, like unto lands, inheritable. All that is traduced with the seed, is either evil or not good. Let no man brag with the Jews, that he hath Abraham to his father: God hath raised up of this stone a son to Caleb.

Abigail (which signifies her father's joy) had sorrow enough, to be matched with so unworthy an husband. If her father had meant she should have had joy in herself, or in her life, he had not disposed her to an husband, though rich, yet fond and wicked: it is like he married her to the wealth, not to the man. Many a child is cast away upon riches. Wealth, in our matches, should be as some grains or scruples in the balance, superadded to the gold of virtuous qualities, to weigh down the scales: when it is made the substance of the weight, and good qualities the appendance, there is but one earth poised with another; which, wheresoever it is done, it is a wonder if either the children prove not the parents' sorrow, or the parents theirs.

Nabal's sheep-shearing was famous: three thousand fleeces must needs require many hands; neither is any thing more plentiful, commonly, than a churl's feast. What a world was this, that the noble champion and rescuer of Israel, God's anointed, is driven to send to a base carle for victuals! It is no measuring of men by the depth of the purse, by outward prosperity. Servants are ofttimes set on horseback, while princes go on foot. Our estimation must be led by their inward worth, which is not alterable by time, nor diminished with external conditions.

One rag of a David is more worth than

the wardrobes of a thousand Nabals. Even | the best deservings may want. No man should be contemned for his necessity; perhaps he may be so much richer in grace, as he is poorer in estate: neither hath violence or casualty more impoverished a David, than his poverty hath enriched him. He, whose folly hath made himself miserable, is justly rewarded with neglect; but he that suffers for good, deserves so much more honour from others, as his distress is more. Our compassion or respect must be ruled according to the cause of another's misery.

One good turn requires another. In some cases, not hurting is meritorious. He that should examine the qualities of David's followers, must needs grant it worthy of a fee, that Nabal's flocks lay untouched in Carmel; but more, that David's soldiers were Nabal's shepherds; yea, the keepers of his shepherds gave them a just interest in that sheep-shearing feast; justly should they have been set at the upper end of the table. That Nabal's sheep were safe, he might thank his shepherds; that his shepherds were safe, he might thank David's soldiers. It is no small benefit that we receive in a safe protection: well may we think our substance due, where we owe ourselves. Yet this churlish Nabal doth not only give nothing to David's messengers, but, which is worse than nothing, ill words: "Who is David, or who is the son of Jesse? There be many servants now-a-days that break away from their masters." David asked him bread, he giveth him stones. All Israel knew and honoured their deliverer; yet this clown, to save his victuals, will needs make him a man either of no merits or ill, either an obscure man or a fugitive. Nothing is more cheap than good words: these Nabal might have given, and been never the poorer. If he had been resolved to shut his hands, in a fear of Saul's revenge, he might have so tempered his denial, that the repulse might have been free from offence; but now his foul mouth doth not only deny, but revile. It should have been Nabal's glory, that his tribe yielded such a successor to the throne of Israel: now, in all likelihood, his envy stirs him up to disgrace that man who surpassed him in honour and virtue, more than he was surpassed by him in wealth and ease. Many a one speaks fair, that means ill; but when the mouth speaks foul, it argues a corrupt heart. If, with St. James's verbal benefactors, we say only, Depart in peace, warm yourselves, fill your bellies, we shall answer for hypocritical uncharitableness; but if we rate and curse those needy souls whom we

ought to relieve, we shall give a more fearful account of a savage cruelty, in trampling on those whom God hath humbled. If healing with good words be justly punishable, what torment is there for those that wound with evil?

David, which had all this while been in the school of patience, hath now his lesson to seek: he, who hath happily digested all the railings and persecutions of a wicked master, cannot put up this affront of a Nabal: nothing can assuage his choler, but blood. How subject are the best of God's saints to weak passions; and if we have the grace to ward an expected blow of temptation, how easily are we surprised with a sudden foil!

Wherefore serve these recorded weaknesses of holy men, but to strengthen us against the conscience of our infirmities? Not that we should take courage to imitate them in the evil whereunto they have been miscarried; but we should take heart to ourselves against the discouragement of our own evils.

The wisdom of God hath so contrived it, that commonly, in societies, good is mixed with evil: wicked Nabal hath in his house a wise and good servant, a prudent and worthy wife; that wise servant is careful to advertise his mistress of the danger; his prudent mistress is careful to prevent it.

The lives of all his family were now in hazard. She dares not commit this business to the fidelity of a messenger, but, forgetting her sex, puts herself into the errand. Her foot is not slow, her hand is not empty; according to the offence, she frames her satisfaction. Her husband refused to give, she brings a bountiful gift; her husband gave ill words, she sweetens them with a meek and humble deprecation; her husband could say, "Who is David?" she falls at his feet; her husband dismisses David's men empty, she brings her servants laden with provisions, as if it had been only meant to ease the repelled messengers of the carriage, not to scant them of the required benevolence: no wit, no art, could devise a more pithy and powerful oratory. As all satisfaction, so hers, begins with a confession, wherein she deeply blameth the folly of her husband; she could not have been a good wife, if she had not honoured her unworthy head. If a stranger should have termed him fool in her hearing, he could not have gone away in peace; now, to save his life, she is bold to acknowledge his folly. It is a good disparagement that preserveth. There is the same way to our peace in heaven. The only means to escape judgment, is te com