concerning our family. We acquainted you, that we had a father heavily laden with years, but still more heavily with misfortunes; a father, whose whole life had been one continued struggle with adversity. We added, that we had a brother peculiarly dear to him, as the children born towards the end of their life, generally are to old men, and who is the only one remaining of his mother: his brother having come, in early youth, to a most tragical end. You commanded us, as the proof of our veracity and innocence, to bring that brother unto you, and your command was delivered with such threatenings, that the ter they drank to excess. It is natural for men to rush from one extreme to another, and it is not improbable that Joseph threw this temptation in their way, in order to obtain a more thorough insight into their temper and character, by observing them attentively, in a situation when the heart overflows, and he tongue conceals and disguises nothing. Whatever be in this, he is preparing a trial for them more severe than any which they had as yet experienced, and which in some measure compensated the anguish they had occasioned to their father, when they impressed him with the belief of his son's death. Loaded with civilities, provided with a sup-ror of them accompanied us all the way back ply of corn for their starving families, Simeon restored, Benjamin not detained; they set out on their journey to Canaan, with a merry heart, talking one to another of the strange things which had come to pass. But scarcely are they got clear of the city, when they are pursued and overtaken by Joseph's steward, charging them with theft, and commanding them instantly to return to his master to answer for it. to our country, and embittered the remainder of our journey. We reported every thing minutely to our father, as you directed us. Resolutely and long, he refused to entrust us with the care of that child. Love suggested a thousand causes of apprehension upon his account. He loaded us with the bitterest reproaches for having declared that we had another brother. Subdued by the famine, he at length reluctantly consented; and putting his beloved son, this unhappy youth, into our hands, conjured us by every dear, every awful name, to guard with tenderness his precious life, and as we would not see him expire before our eyes in anguish and despair, to bring him back in safety. He parted with With terror and astonishment, though in the confidence of innocence, they deny the charge, and reason upon the improbability of it. Search is made among their stuff for the goods alleged to be stolen; ten are acquitted with honour, and they are just beginning to exult in the detected falsehood of such a scan-him as with a limb torn from his own body; dalous imputation, when, to their utter confusion, Joseph's cup was found in Benjamin's sack. Overwhelmed with shame and terror, they are again conducted to his presence.The crime is proved. To deny it were vain, to excuse it nugatory and absurd; and to account for it, it is impossible. Judah, who had been the most urgent with his father to send Benjamin, and had solemnly pledged himself for his safe return, feels himself now called forth: and, in a strain of the most pathetic eloquence that ever flowed from an aching heart, attempts not to extenuate or exculpate, but to raise compassion, and to obtain mercy. The piece is of exquisite beauty and elegance, and, being in every one's hands, may be re-perused at your leisure. The Jewish writers take delight in dwelling upon, and expanding it. Philo, in particular, in his treatise entitled, "Joseph," has given a paraphrase of this speech of Judah, which possesses wonderful elegance and propriety of expression, and force of thought. Some of you, perhaps, may not be displeased with having an opportunity of comparing the diffusive laboured eloquence of the paraphrast, with the energetic simplicity of the sacred text. The former puts into Judah's mouth the following address. "When we appeared, sir, before you the first time, we answered without reserve, and according to the strictest truth, all the questions which you were pleased to put to us and in an agony of grief inexpressible, deplored the dreadful necessity which separated him from a son, on whom all the happiness of his life depended. How then can we appear before a father of such delicate sensibility? With what eyes shall we dare to look upon him, unless we carry back with us this son of his right hand, this staff of his old age, whom, alas, you have condemned to slavery? The good old man will expire in horrors dreadful to nature, as soon as he shall find that his son is not with us. Our enemies will insult over us under these misfortunes, and treat us as the most infamous of parricides. I must appear to the world, and to myself, as the perpetrator of that most horrid of crimes, the murder of a father; for it was I who most urgently pressed my father to yield. I engaged, by the most solemn promises, and the most sacred pledges, to bring the child back. Me he entrusted with the sacred deposit, and of my hand he will require it. Have pity, I beseech you, on the deplorable condition of an old man, stript of his last comfort, and whose misery will be aggravated by reflecting that he foresaw its approach, and yet wanted resolution to prevent it. If your just indignation must needs have a sacrifice, here I am ready, at the price of my liberty, or of my life, to expiate this young man's guilt, and to purchase his release? Grant this request, not so much for the sake of the youth himself, as of his absent father, who never offended you, but who venerates your person | cheering and cherishing his declining years; and esteems your virtues. Suffer us not to a heart melting into sympathy, forgiveness, plead in vain for a shelter under your right and brotherly love, exulting in the joy of hand, to which we flee, as to an holy altar, rendering good for evil; a heart lost in wonconsecrated as a refuge to the miserable.-der and overflowing with gratitude, while it Pity an old man, who, during the whole contemplated the wisdom and goodness of course of a long life, has cultivated arts be-all-ruling Providence, in producing such coming a man of wisdom and probity, and events by means so incomprehensible. who, on account of his amiable qualities, is almost adored by the inhabitants of Syria and Canaan, though he profess a religion, and follow a mode of living totally different from theirs." The feelings of the brothers too, are rather to be conceived than described. Thunderstruck with astonishment, oppressed with shame, stung with remorse, petrified with terror:-no, not terror; the words, the looks, the tears of their relenting brother, assure them in a moment that they have nothing to fear. But, unable to make any reply, they afford the noble minded, and the condescend This address, it must be acknowledged, possesses uncommon grace and tenderness. But it is evident from whence the modern, pretended Jew, has copied his tenderest and most delicate touches. And when the copying Joseph, an opportunity of so far recoverand the original are brought close together, it will be apparent to a discerning eye which is the most finished piece. If Philo has made Judah speak well, it will hardly be disputed that Moses has made him speak better. The words of Judah penetrated the heart of Joseph. The affectionate manner in which his father was mentioned, the unfeigned earnestness expressed to save him from the impending blow; the generosity of his offer to put himself in Benjamin's place, to purchase a parent's comfort and a brother's release, at the price of his own liberty; all this satisfies him, that time, and affliction, and a sense of duty, and the powerful constraint of returning nature, had introduced another and a happier spirit into the family. He finds himself incapable of any longer deferring the pleasure which he should both receive and communicate by making a discovery of himself. The curiosity of his domestics must have been greatly raised by the unaccountable peculiarity of his behaviour to these strangers, but he does not choose to have any spectators of that scene of nature which he was meditating, except those who were to be actors in it. The heart likes not to have its stronger emotions seen of many witnesses. "The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." He therefore commands every Egyptian out of the apartment, and being left alone with his eleven brothers, whose consternation must have been greatly increased by the orders which they had now heard given, he bursts into an agony of tenderness, and in words inarticulate and indistinct through tears, declares in one breath who he was; and in the next, with accents that pierce the soul, pours out his heart in a tender inquiry after his old kind father. Two short words unfold the whole mystery of this strange conduct. But what language can convey an adequate idea of Joseph's feeling at that moment; the feelings of a heart glowing at the thought of once more beholding his venerable sire, of being pressed to his bosom, of ing himself, as to be able to administer this strongest of all consolation, that their unkindness to himself had been intended, ordered, and overruled of God, to answer the most valuable and important purposes to him, to themselves, to their father's house, and to many nations. "Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you, to preserve life."* In this address of Joseph, I know not which to admire most; his magnanimity in pardoning offences so atrocious, losing sight of the criminals in the brothers; his wonderful skill in adapting the style of his consolatory arguments so exactly to the circumstances of the case; his invincible humility in carrying the spirit and temper of the lowliest condition and relations of humanity, into the loftiest, most envied, and most corruptive station of courtly grandeur; or his pure, fervent, and sublime piety, in considering and acknowledging all that had come to pass, as the design and operation of Heaven. With infinite judgment and propriety, the sacred historian has put no reply whatever, into the mouths of the brothers. There are certain situations which defy description; certain emotions which silence best, which silence only can explain. And such was theirs. Joseph however is not so lost in joy, as to forget that it was far from being perfect till one more became a partaker of it, nor so much swallowed up in the present, as to neglect the future. With gladness of heart would he have flown to Hebron, and been himself the messenger of his own life and prosperity, to the good old man. But the duties of his station forbid. This is one of the taxes which greatness is doomed to pay. It must learn to repress the inclinations and forego the pleasures of the private citizen. Princes live not to themselves but to the public; and the happiness of millions, is a felicity infinitely superior to every sor did, every selfish gratification. He could * Gen. xlv. 5. not, must not go to his father: but it was not impossible to remove his father into Egypt. The excellence of his disposition appears in every thing. In characters like his, we do not find duty justling duty out of doors, but every one in its proper place. Passion tempered by prudence; and wisdom animated by passion. To render the projected removal of his venerable parent as easy and comfortable as possible to his advanced age, and increasing infirmities, he proposes for his residence the land of Goshen, which was a province of the lower Egypt, on the east side of the Nile, bordering upon Arabia, and a frontier to Palestine. This province was fit for feeding cattle, the profession which his father and brethren followed; and it was not far from the city where the Egyptian monarchs usually resided, and where Joseph's stated habitation of course was. It is called Zoan in the seventy-eighth Psalm, and Tanais by profane authors. This nearness of situation, Joseph alleged as one motive to induce his father to undertake the journey; and there he engaged to maintain him and all his family, in affluence and comfort. In Pharaoh we have an amiable instance of qualities rarely to be found in the character of princes-attachment and gratitude. He cheerfully confirms all the engagements of his minister, though they extended to the disposing of a whole province of his empire. He outruns the wishes and desire of even filial duty and affection, and strives to repay the kindness of Joseph, whom God had made a father to him, by becoming a shield and protector to his father's house. But what shall we say, what shall we think of Joseph himself? Men suddenly and remarkably elevated, are apt to forget them selves, to forget those from whom they sprung, and the means by which they rose. But behold the prime minister of a mighty empire, the favourite of a great and powerful prince, the lord of Egypt, attending to the conveniency and comfort of an old shepherd, whose person was unknown in the country which he governed, his religion abhorred, and his occupation despised. O nature, nature! How honourable is thy empire, how glorious are thy triumphs!-Joseph is now as eager to hasten the departure of his brethren, as he was before artful to detain them. And at Pharaoh's command, dismisses them with a retinue suitable to the rank and dignity of the man who was next the throne. But it is with pleasure we observe, that the splendour of this retinue was not the silly ostentation of wealth and power, but the display of much better passions, the kindness, the liberality, the gratitude of a good and honest heart. And, is the sun indeed at length going to arise upon Jacob's hoary head? And shall the heart so long dead to joy, yet once more awaken to transport? And shall his eyes at last close in peace? Alas, alas! are we not all dying to the world, before we begin to live to comfort? Is not the drama of life over, before we are well sensible that our part in the scene has commenced? Is it not rather too late in life to purchase a blessing so transitory, by a change so great? What will a man not do to save his family from perishing, and to be joined to such a son as Joseph? It is indeed late in life, before we die to hope; and wisely and well it is ordered, that we should hope to the end. The man who has suffered so much, who has died so often, has not much more either to feel or to fear. This dawning of happiness upon the head of the aged patriarch, is to himself so new, so unlike the common complexion of his lot, opens so many interesting views of Providence-that I trust you will deem with me the prosperous period of Jacob's history deserving of a Lecture by itself. Here then we break off, after having suggested to your minds a few texts of scripture, tending to illustrate and to apply our subject. And "there arose a mighty famine in that land, and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough, and to spare, and I perish with hunger! 1 will arise, and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and before thee; and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. And he arose, and came to his father: but when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him."* "Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart and ye shall find rest unto your souls."+ "Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive: and let thy widows trust in me."t 66 Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."} "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not."|| For of a truth against thy holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the people of Israel, were gathered together: for to do whatsoever thy hand and Luke xv. 14-20. † Matt. xi. 28, 29. t Jer. xlix. 11. § Luke xii. 32. Matt. xxiii. 37. 66 thy counsel determined before to be done."* mit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in him, "Because the foolishness of God is wiser and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall than men and the weakness of God is strong- bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and er than men."+ "This cometh forth from thy judgment as the noon day. The steps of the Lord of Hosts, which is wonderful in a good man are ordered by the Lord, and he counsel, and excellent in working." "Trust delighteth in his way.' Acquaint now in the Lord, and do good, so shalt thou dwell thyself with him, and be at peace: thereby in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. De- good shall come unto thee."+ "In all thy light thyself also in the Lord, and he shall ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct give thee the desires of thine heart. Com- thy paths." *Acts iv. 27, 28. † 1 Cor. i. 25. Isa. xxviii. 29. * Psalm xxxvii. 3-6. 23. † Job xxii. 21. Prov. iii. 6. HISTORY OF JACOB AND JOSEPH. LECTURE XXXIII. So he sent his brethren away, and they departed: and he said unto them, See that ye fall not out by the way. And they went up out of Egypt, and came into the land of Canaan unto Jacob their father; and told him, saying, Joseph is yet alive, and he is governor over all the land of Egypt. And Jacob's heart fainted, for he believed them not. And they told him all the words of Joseph, which he had said unto them: and when he saw the wagons which Joseph had sent to carry him, the spirit of Jacob their father revived. And Israel said, It is enough; Joseph my son is yet alive; I will go and see him before I die.GENESIS xlv. 24-28. If there be such a thing as pure and per- | brethren, hastens their return homeward, and fect joy upon earth, it is that which fills the dismisses them provided with every accomheart of a parent, when he hears of the wis-modation for the safe and comfortable redom, the virtue, and the prosperity of a darling child. If there be sorrow that admits not consolation, it is the sorrow of a father, for the vice or folly of an ungracious, thankless son, and for the misery in which he has plunged himself. The patriarch Jacob felt both of these in the extreme. He had now lived to the age of one hundred and thirty years; and had proved all the bitter variety of human wretchedness. Every change of condition he has hitherto undergone, is only the sad transition from affliction to affliction. The burthen at length becomes too heavy to bear, and we see a miserable old man sinking into the grave under the accumulated weight of woes insupportable. In parting with Benjamin, he had yielded up his last stake, and renounced all hopes of happiness in this world; calmly looking forward to that peaceful region "where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest." moval of their aged father, and their tender children. What a triumph was Joseph's! What a glorious superiority! the triumph of Heaven, the superiority of God himself, who "overcomes evil with good." But he is unable to conceal the partiality of his affection to Benjamin. As he distinguished him at table by a five-fold portion, he distinguishes him at parting with a more splendid and costly present than the rest, consisting of three hundred pieces of silver, and five changes of raiment. In a wardrobe of great value and variety, a considerable part of ancient magnificence consisted. This we learn both from scripture, and from profane authors. Samson proposed as a reward to him who should expound his riddle, "thirty changes of garments." Naaman the Syrian, among other valuable commodities, carried "ten changes of garments," as a gratification to the prophet from whom he expected the cure of his leprosy. Under the first Roman emBut the full estimate of human life cannot perors, this vanity and extravagance were be made till the scene be closed. The shades carried to such an excessive pitch, that the of night at last begin to disperse, and the day Prætor Lucullus, according to Plutarch, his dawns. While he is tormenting himself in biographer, had two hundred changes of apCanaan, with the apprehension of never see-parel; and Horace insinuates, in one of his ing more his last, his only remaining hope, Providence is maturing in Egypt a gracious design in his behalf, which is in a moment to turn his sorrow into joy. Joseph having discovered himself to his epistles, that by some the luxury was carried to the enormous extravagance of five thousand suits. And it is, without doubt, to this ostentatious profusion, the apostle James alludes, when he thus censures the abuse of wealth, "Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries; your riches are corrupted, and your garments are motheaten." But was it wisely done, sage governor of Egypt? was it wisely done, thus to scatter the seeds of jealousy and envy in hearts so susceptible of these dreadful passions? Have you forgot the coat of many colours, the dangerous badge of your father's fondness to yourself? Have you not rendered your own advice necessary, "See that you fall not out by the way!" Happily, the recollection of past disasters, and the kind behaviour and gentle admonition of their affectionate brother, have subdued their boisterous spirits, and attuned their hearts to love. The anxiety of the old man for their return is better to be conceived than described. How often in a day would his fond eyes turn to the way by which Benjamin was expected back? How would the tardy hours linger, as the heart languished with hope deferred? At last the blessed moment arrives, the train appears; the number complete, Benjamin safe, Simeon restored. But what can this mean? Instead of eleven men driving their asses laden with corn, a splendid retinue, the glory of Egypt, the wagons of Pharaoh! The heart that has been long inured to affliction, interprets every appearance against itself. Some things are too good, others too evil to be hastily credited. The utmost height of Jacob's expectation was to behold his youngest son again, with a supply of corn for his starving family. But to hear that his long lost, his much lamented Joseph was still living, that he was the ruler of all Egypt, the saviour of a great nation, the father of a mighty prince, O! it is, it is too much. Nature tottering under a load of wo, now sinks and faints under an excess of joy. Such tidings are too flattering to be believed. not always such as we wished and expected: but they are ever seasonable, ever suitable, and they compensate in a moment the pain and misery of a whole life. But is it not late in life to undertake such a journey? No; it is to see Joseph, to be joined unto him; to be an eye-witness of his grandeur, and a partaker of his liberality. How often has Egypt sheltered and nourished the church of God! Abraham, Joseph, Jacob, Moses, Jesus Christ himself, there successively found protection. The same place, according as Providence ordains it, is either a trying furnace or a refuge and sanctuary. A king that knows Joseph is a nursing father to Israel; another arises who knows him not, and he wastes and destroys. But our patriarch was not merely following the impulse of natural affection, though that had been warrant sufficient for even a still greater removal; he is also obeying the dictates of wisdom, in making a prudent provision for his numerous and increasing family, and he is listening to a special call and encouragement from Heaven. Before he leaves Čanaan, probably for ever, he visits Beer-sheba, the chosen and favourite residence of his father; and there he renews his covenant with God by sacrifice. Those enterprises are most likely to succeed, those comforts to afford most genuine satisfaction in which God is seen, acknowledged, and enjoyed. The sacrifices of the devout by day, are answered by the visions of the Almighty in the night season. A man can proceed with cheerfulness and confidence, when he has got his Maker's permission. The vision assures him that he should arrive in safety, should prosper in Egypt, should embrace his son, and that "Joseph should put his hand upon his eyes," that is, perform the last offices of filial duty and humanity. We Did the brothers now disclose the whole meet with the same expression and idea in of the mighty secret, and take shame to many passages of the heathen poets. Penethemselves for their vile conduct to so excel- lope, in Homer, prays that Telemachus her lent a father, to so amiable a brother? Or, son may close her eyes, and those of his fatrusting to Joseph's generosity, did they con- ther Ulysses. The mother of Euryalus in ceal the part which they had acted in this the Eneid, among many other bitter expresstrange, mysterious drama? Probably the sions of sorrow over her dead son, laments latter is the truth. The soul shrinks back that she was denied the wretched consolation, from the discovery of its own wickedness. since he must die before her, of pressing To confess, and condemn themselves, could down his dying eyes. Human nature thus do now no good, and must greatly have strives to outlive itself, and the heart, while marred and diminished their aged parent's it is yet capable of feeling, consoles itself satisfaction, if indeed he had no suspicion with the hope of receiving marks of tenderhow the case stood. The good man has been ness and attachment after it can feel no more. so long a stranger to felicity, that the possi- The old man's heart is now at rest, he is actbility of it is called in question; that slowly ing obedience to the command of Heaven, he and cautiously he yields to the sweet demon- is complying with one of the worthiest prostration. Convinced, satisfied at length, what pensities of nature. He is indebted for the joy is equal to the joy of Jacob? Is it not commodiousness with which he travels, to worth wading through a sea of trouble, to the person whom on earth he most dearly come to such a shore at length? The bless-loved, and to whom, of all others, he would ings of Providence are well worth waiting most willingly be obliged. for. They may seem to linger: they are How different the patriarch's situation, |