even when we cast him off, holds us fast. That bountiful hand leaves us rich of common graces, when we have mis-spent our better store; like as our first parents, when they had spoiled themselves of the image of their Creator, yet were left wealthy of noble faculties of the soul.

I find Samson come off from his sin with safety. He runs away lightly with a heavier weight than the gates of Azzah, the burden of an ill act. Present impunity argues not an abatement of the wickedness of his sin, or of the dislike of God. Nothing is so worthy of pity, as sinners' peace: good is not therefore good, because it prospers, but because it is commanded: evil is not evil, because it is punished, but because it is forbidden.

If the holy parents of Samson lived to see these outrages of their Nazarite, I doubt whether they did not repent of their joy, to hear the news of a son. It is a shame to see how he that might not drink wine, is drunk with the cup of fornications. His lust carries him from Azzah, to the plain of Sorek; and now hath found a Delilah, that shall pay him for all his former uncleanness. Sin is steep and slippery; and if after one fall, we have found where to stand, it is the praise, not of our footing, but of the hand of God.

The princes of the Philistines knew already where Samson's weakness lay, though not his strength; and therefore they would entice his harlot by gifts, to entice him by her dalliance to betray himself. It is no marvel, if she that would be filthy, would be also perfidious. How could Samson choose but think, if lust had not bewitched him, "she, whose body is mercenary to me, will easily sell me to others; she will be false, if she will be a harlot." A wide conscience will swallow any sin. Those, that have once thralled themselves to a known evil, can make no other difference of sins, but their own loss, or advantage: a liar can steal; a thief can kill; a cruel man can be a traitor; a drunkard can falsify: wickedness once entertained can put on any shape: trust him in nothing, that makes not a conscience of every thing.

Was there ever such another motion made to a reasonable man? Tell me wherein thy great strength lieth, and wherewith thou mayest be bound to do thee hurt. Who would not have spurned such a suitor out of doors? What will not impudence ask, or stupidity receive? He, that killed the thousand Philistines for coming to bind him, endures this harlot of the Philistines to consult with himself of binding him; and when upon the trial of a false answer he saw so apparent treachery, yet wilfully betrays his life by her to his enemies. All sins, all passions have power to infatuate a man, but lust most of all. Never man that had drunk flaggons of wine had less reason than this Nazarite: many a one loses his life, but this casts it away; not in hatred of himself, but in love to a strumpet.

We wonder that a man could possibly be so sottish, and yet we ourselves by temptation become no less insensate: sinful pleasures, like a common Delilah, lodge in our bosoms; we know they aim at nothing but the death of our soul; we will yield to them and die.

Every willing sinner is a Samson: let us not inveigh against his senselessness, but our own. Nothing is so gross and unreasonable to a well-disposed mind, which temptation will not represent fit and plausible. No soul can out of his own strength, secure himself from that sin which he most detesteth.

As a hoodwinked man sees some little glimmering of light, but not enough to guide him; so did Samson, who had reason enough left him to make trial of Delilah by a crafty misinformation, but not enough upon that trial to distrust and hate her: he had not wit enough to deceive her thrice; not enough to keep himself from being deceived by her. It is not so great wisdom to prove them whom we distrust, as it is folly to trust them whom we have found treacherous thrice had he seen the Philistines in her chamber, ready to surprise him, upon her bonds; and yet will needs be a slave to his traitor. Warning not taken is a certain presage of destructions; and if once neglected it receive pardon, yet thrice is desperate.

What man would ever play thus with his own ruin? His harlot binds him, and calls in her executioners to cut his throat; he rises to save his own life, and suffers them to carry away theirs in peace. Where is the courage of Samson? where his zeal? He that killed the Philistines for their clothes; he that slew a thousand of them in the field at once; in this quarrel, now suffers them in his cham ber unrevenged. Whence is this? His hands were strong, but his heart was effeminate: his harlot had diverted his affection. Whosoever slackens the reins to his sensual appetite, shall soon grow unfit for the calling of God.

Samson hath broke the green withes, the new ropes, the woof of his hair; and yet still suffers himself fettered with those invisible bonds of a harlot's love, and can endure her to say, How canst thou say I love thee, when thy heart is not with me? Thou hast mocked me these three times: whereas he should rather have said unto her, "How canst thou challenge any love from me, that hast this thrice sought my life? Oh! canst thou think my mocks a sufficient revenge of this treachery?" But contrarily, he melts at this fire; and by her importunate insinuations is wrought against himself. Weariness of solicitation hath won some to those actions, which at the first motion they despised: like as we see some suitors are dis patched, not for the equity of the cause, but the trouble of the prosecution; because it is more easy to yield, not more reasona ble. It is more safe to keep ourselves out of the noise of suggestions, than to stand upon our power of denial.

Who can pity the loss of that strength which was so abused? Who can pity him the loss of his locks, which after so many warn ings can sleep in the lap of Delilah? It is but just, that he should rise up from thence shaven and feeble; not a Nazarite; scarce a man. If his strength had lain in his hair, it had been out of himself; it was not therefore in his locks; it was in his consecration, whereof that hair was a sign. If the razor had come sooner upon his head, he had ceased to be a Nazarite; and the gift of God had

at once ceased, with the calling of God; not for the want of that excretion, but for want of obedience. If God withdraw his graces, when he is too much provoked, who can complain of his mercy?

He that sleeps in sin must look to wake in loss and weakness. Could Samson think, "Though I tell her my strength lies in my hair, yet she will not cut it; or though she do cut my hair, yet shall I not lose my strengto;" that now he rises and shakes himself in hope of his former vigour? Custom of success makes men confident in their sins; and causes them to mistake an arbitrary tenure for a perpetuity.

His eyes were the first offenders, which betrayed him to lust ; and now they are first pulled out, and he is led a blind captive to Azzah, where he was first captived to his lust. The Azzahites, which lately saw him not without terror, running lightly away with their gates at midnight, see him now in his own perpetual night struggling with his chains; and that he may not want pain toge ther with his bondage, he must grind in his prison.

As he passed the street, every boy among the Philistines could throw stones at him; every woman could laugh and shout at him; and what one Philistine doth not say, while he lashes him unto blood, "There is for my brother, or my kinsman, whom thou slewest?" Who can look to run away with a sin, when Samson, a Nazarite, is thus plagued? This great heart could not but have broken with indignation, if it had not pacified itself, with the conscience of the just desert of all this vengeance.

It is better for Samson to be blind in prison, than to abuse his eyes in Sorek; yea, I may safely say, he was more blind when he saw licentiously, than now that he sees not. He was a greater slave when he served his affections, than now in grinding for the Philistines. The loss of his eyes shews him his sin; neither could he see how ill he had done, till he saw not.

Even yet, still the God of mercy looked upon the blindness of Samson; and in these fetters enlargeth his heart from the worse prison of his sin. His hair grew together with his repentance, and his strength with his hair. God's merciful humiliations of his own are sometimes so severe, that they seem to differ little from desertions; yet at the worst, he loves us bleeding; and when we have smarted enough, we shall feel it.

What thankful idolaters were these Philistines! They could not but know, that their bribes and their Delilah had delivered Samson to them, and yet they sacrifice to their Dagon; and, as those that would be liberal in casting favours upon a senseless idol, of whom they could receive none, they cry out, Our god hath deli vered our enemy into our hands. Where was their Dagon, when a thousand of his clients were slain with an ass's jaw? There was more strength in that bone, than in all the makers of this god; and yet these vain pagans say, Our god. It is the quality of superstition to misinterpret all events, and to feed itself with the conceit of those favours, which are so far from being done, that their au

thors never were. Why do not we learn zeal of idolaters? And if they be so forward in acknowledgment of their deliverances to a false deity, how cheerfully should we ascribe ours to the true? O God, whatsoever be the means, thou art the author of all our success. Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and tell the wonders that he doth for the sons of men!

No musician would serve for this feast but Samson. He must now be their sport, which was once their terror. That he might want no sorrow, scorn is added to his misery: every wit and hand plays upon him: who is not ready to cast his bone and his jest at such a captive? So as doubtless he wished himself no less deaf than blind, and that his soul might have gone out with his eyes. Oppression is able to make a wise man mad; and the greater the courage is, the more painful the insult.

Now Samson is punished, shall the Philistines escape? If the judgment of God begin at his own, what shall become of his enemies? This advantage shall Samson make of their tyranny, that now death is no punishment to him; his soul shall fly forth in this bitterness without pain; and that his dying revenge shall be no less sweet to him, than the liberty of his former life. He could not but feel God mocked through him; and therefore, while they are scoffing he prays: his seriousness hopes to pay them forall those jests. If he could have been thus earnest with God in his prosperity, the Philistines had wanted this laughing stock. No devotion is so fervent, as that which arises from extremity: O Lord God, I pray thee think upon me; O God, I beseech thee strengthen me at this time only.

Though Samson's hair were shorter, yet he knew God's hand was not; as one therefore that had yet eyes enough to see him that was invisible, and whose faith was recovered before his strength, he sues to that God, which was a party in this indignity, for power to revenge his wrongs more than his own. It is zeal that moves him, and not malice: his renewed faith tells him, that he was destined to plague the Philistines; and reason tells him, that his blindness puts him out of the hope of such another opportunity: knowing therefore, that this play of the Philistines must end in his death, he recollects all the forces of his soul and body, that his death may be a punishment instead of a disport; and that his soul may be more victorious in the parting, than in the animation: and so addresses himself both to die and kill; as one whose soul shall not feel his own dissolution, while it shall carry so many thousand Philistines with it to the pit. All the acts of Samson are for wonder, not for imitation: so didst thou, O blessed Saviour, our better Samson, conquer in dying; and triumphing upon the chariot of the cross, didst lead captivity captive: the law, sin, death, hell, had never been vanquished, but by thy death: all our life, liberty, and glory, springs out of thy most precious blood. Judges xvi.

MICAH'S IDOLATRY.

THE mother of Micah hath lost her silver, and now she falls to cursing she did afterwards but change the form of her god: her silver was her god, ere it did put on the fashion of an image; else she had not so much cursed to lose it, if it had not too much possessed her in the keeping. A carnal heart cannot forego that wherein it delights, without impatience; cannot be impatient, without curses: whereas the man, that hath learned to enjoy God and use the world, smiles at a shipwreck, and pities a thief; and cannot curse, but pray.

Micah had so little grace as to steal from his mother, and that out of wantonness, not out of necessity; for if she had not been rich, so much could not have been stolen from her: and now, he hath so much grace as to restore it: her curses have fetched again her treasures. He cannot so much love the money, as he fears her imprecations. Wealth seems too dear, bought with a curse. Though his fingers were false, yet his heart was tender. Many, that make not conscience of committing sin, yet make conscience of facing it it is well for them, that they are but novices in evil, Those, whom custom hath fleshed in sin, can either deny and forswear, or excuse and defend it: their seared hearts cannot feel the gnawing of any remorse; and their forehead hath learned to be as impudent, as their heart is senseless.

see no argument of any holiness in the mother of Micah: her curses were sin to herself; yet Micah dares not but fear them., I know not whether the causeless curse be more worthy of pity, or derision; it hurts the author, not his adversary: but the deserved curses, that fall even from unholy mouths, are worthy to be feared. How much more should a man hold himself blasted with the just imprecations of the godly! What metal are those made of, that can applaud themselves in the bitter curses which their oppressions have wrung from the poor, and rejoice in these signs of their prosperity!

Neither yet was Micah more stricken with his mother's curses, than with the conscience of sacrilege: so soon as he finds there was a purpose of devotion in this treasure, he dares not conceal it, to the prejudice, as he thought, of God, more than of his mother. What shall we say to the palate of those men, which as they find no good relish but in stolen waters, so best in those which are stolen from the fountain of God?

How soon hath the old woman changed her note! Even now she passed an indefinite curse upon her son for stealing, and now she blesses him absolutely for restoring; Blessed be my son of the Lord. She hath forgotten the theft, when she sees the restitution: how much more shall the God of mercies be more pleased with our confession, than provoked with our sin!

I doubt not but this silver and this superstition came out of Egypt, together with the mother of Micah. This history is not so late in time, as in place; for the tribe of Dan was not yet settled