Sidon, to fetch her. Why are we weary to do good, when our Saviour underwent this perpetual toil, in healing bodies and winning souls? There is no life happy, but that, which is spent in a continual drudging for edification.

It is long, since we heard of the name or nation of Canaanites. All the country was once so styled. That people was now forgotten; yet, because this woman was of the blood of those Phoenicians, which were anciently ejected out of Canaan, that title is revived to her. God keeps account of pedigrees, after our oblivion; that he may magnify his mercies, by continuing them to thousands of the generations of the just, and by renewing favours upon the unjust.

No nation carried such brands and scars of a curse, as Canaan. To the shame of those careless Jews, even a faithful Canaanite is a suppliant to Christ, while they neglect so great salvation.

She doth not speak, but cry. Need and desire have raised her voice to an importunate clamour. The God of Mercy is light of hearing; yet he loves a loud and vehement solicitation; not to make himself inclinable to grant, but to make us capable to receive blessings. They are words, and not prayers, which fall from careless lips. If we felt our want, or wanted not desire, we could speak to God in no tune, but cries. If we would prevail with God, we must wrestle; and if we would wrestle happily with God, we must wrestle first with our own dulness. Nothing but cries can pierce heaven.

Neither doth her vehemence so much argue her faith, as doth her compellation; O Lord, thou Son of David. What proselyte, what disciple, could have said more? O blessed Syrophoenician, who taught thee this abstract of divinity? What can we Christians confess more, than the Deity and the Humanity, the Messiahship of our glorious Saviour? his Deity, as Lord; his Humanity, as a Son; his Messiahship, as the Son of David.

Of all the famous progenitors of Christ, two are singled out by an eminence, David and Abraham; a king, a patriarch: and though the patriarch were first in time, yet the king is first in place; not so much for the dignity of the person, as the excelfence of the promise, which, as it was both later and fresher in memory, so more honourable. To Abraham was promised multitude and blessing of seed; to David, perpetuity of dominion: so as, when God promiseth not to destroy his people, it is for Abraham's sake; when not to extinguish the kingdom, it is for David's sake. Had she said, "The son of Abraham," she had not come home to this acknowledgment. Abraham is the father of the faithful; David, of the kings of Judah and Israel. There are many faithful; there is but one king: so as, in this title, she doth proclaim him the perpetual King of his Church; the rod or flower, which should come from the root of Jesse, the true and only Saviour of the World. Whoso would come unto Christ to purpose, must come in the right stile; apprehending a true God, a true

Man, a true God and Man: any of these severed from other, makes Christ an idol, and our prayers sin.

Being thus acknowledged, what suit is so fit for him, as mercy? Have mercy on me. It was her daughter, that was tormented, yet she says, Have mercy on me. Perhaps her possessed child was senseless of her misery: the parent feels both her sorrow and her own. As she was a good woman, so a good mother. Grace and good nature have taught her, to appropriate the afflictions of this divided part of her own flesh. It is not in the power of another skin, to sever the interest of our own loins or womb. We find some fowls that burn themselves, while they endeavour to blow out the fire from their young. And even serpents can receive their brood into their mouth to shield them from danger. No creature is so unnatural, as the reasonable that hath put off affection.

"On me therefore, in mine; for my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil." It was this that sent her to Christ: it was this that must incline Christ to her. I doubt whether she had inquired after Christ, if she had not been vexed with her daughter's spirit. Our afflictions are as Benhadad's best counsellors, that sent him, with a cord about his neck, to the merciful king of Israel. These are the files and whetstones, that set an edge on our devotions; without which they grow dull and ineffectual. Neither are they stronger motives to our suit, than to Christ's mercy. We cannot have a better spokesman unto God, than our own misery. That alone sues, and pleads, and importunes for us. This, which sets off men, whose compassion is finite, attracts God to us. Who can plead discouragements in his access to the Throne of Grace, when our wants are our forcible advocates? All our worthiness is in a capable misery.

All Israel could not example the faith of this Canaanite; yet she was thus tormented in her daughter. It is not the truth or strength of our faith, that can secure us from the outward and bodily vexations of Satan: against the inward and spiritual, that can and will prevail: it is no more antidote against the other, than against fevers and dropsies. How should it, when as it may fall out that these sufferings may be profitable? And why should we expect, that the love of our God shall yield to forelay any benefit to the soul? He is an ill patien, that cannot distinguish betwixt an affliction and the evil of affliction. When the messenger of Satan buffets us, it is enough, that God hath said, My grace is sufficient for thee.

Millions were in Tyre and Sidon, whose persons, whose children were untouched, with that tormenting hand. I hear none but this faithful woman say, My daughter is grievously vexed of the devil. The worst of bodily afflictions are an insufficient proof of Divine displeasure. She, that hath most grace, complains of most discomfort.

Who would now expect any other than a kind answer to so pious and faithful a petition? And behold, he answered her not a word. O Holy Saviour, we have oft found cause to wonder at thy words;

nover till now at thy silence. A miserable suppliant cries and sues, while the God of Mercies is speechless. He, that comforts the afflicted, adds affliction to the comfortless, by a willing disrespect. What shall we say then? Is the Fountain of Mercy dried up? O Saviour, couldest thou but hear? she did not murmur, not whisper, but cry out: couldest thou but pity, but regard her, that was as good as she was miserable? If thy ears were open, could thy bowels be shut? Certainly, it was thou, that didst put it into the heart, into the mouth of this woman to ask, and to ask thus of thyself. She could never have said, O Lord, thou Son of David, but from thee, but by thee. None calleth Jesus the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost. Much more therefore didst thou hear the words of thine own making; and well wert thou pleased to hear, what thou thoughtest good to forbear to answer. It was thine own grace, that sealed up thy lips :

Whether, for the trial of her patience and perseverance, for silence carried a semblance of neglect; and a willing neglect lays strong siege to the best fort of the soul; even calm tempers, when they have been stirred, have bewrayed impetuousness of passion; if there be any dregs in the bottom of the glass, when the water is shaken they will be soon seen: or whether, for the more sharpening of her desires, and raising of her zealous importunity; our holy longings are increased with delays; it whets our appetite to be held fasting or whether, for the more sweetening of the blessing, by the difficulty or stay of obtaining; the benefit that comes with ease is easily contemned; long and eager pursuit endears any favour: or whether, for the engaging of his disciples in so charitable a suit or whether, for the wise avoidance of exception from the captious Jews: or lastly, for the drawing on of a holy and imitable pattern of faithful perseverance; and to teach us, not to measure God's hearing of our suit by his present answer, or his present answer by our own sense: while our weakness expects thy words, thy wisdom resolves upon thy silence.

Never wert thou better pleased to hear the acclamation of angels, than to hear this woman say, O Lord, thou Son of David; yet silence is thy answer. When we have made our prayers, it is a happy thing, to hear the report of them back from heaven; but if we always do not so, it is not for us to be dejected, and to accuse either our infidelity or thy neglect: since we find here, a faithful suitor met with a gracious Saviour, and yet he answered her not a word. If we be poor in spirit, God is rich in mercy: he cannot send us away empty; yet he will not always let us feel his condescent, crossing us in our will, that he may advance our benefit.

It was no small fruit of Christ's silence, that the disciples were hereupon moved to pray for her: not for a mere dismission; it had been no favour to have required this, but a punishment; (for if to be held in suspense be miserable, to be sent away with a repulse is more;) but for a merciful grant. They saw much passion in the woman; much cause of passion: they saw great discouragement on Christ's part; great constancy on hers. Upon all these, they feel

her misery, and become suitors for her, unrequested. It is our duty, in case of necessity, to intercede for each other; and, by how much more familiar we are with Christ, so much more to improve our interest for the relief of the distressed. We are bidden to say, Our Father, not "mine;" yea, being members of one body, we pray for ourselves in others. If the foot be pricked, the back bends, the head bows down, the eyes look, the hands stir, the tongue calls for aid, the whole man is in pain, and labours for redress. He cannot pray or be heard for himself, that is no man's friend but his own. No prayer, without faith; no faith, without charity; no charity, without mutual intercession.

That, which urged them to speak for her, is urged to Christ by them for her obtaining; She cries after us. Prayer is as an arrow: if it be drawn up but a little, it goes not far; but if it be pulled up to the head, it flies strongly, and pierces deep if it be but dribbled forth of careless lips, it falls down at our foot; the strength of our ejaculation sends it up into heaven, and fetches down a blessing. The child hath escaped many a stripe, by his loud crying; and the very unjust judge cannot endure the widow's clamour. Heartless motions do but teach us to deny fervent suits offer violence, both to earth and heaven.

Christ would not answer the woman, but doth answer the disciples. Those, that have a familiarity with God, shall receive answers, when strangers shall stand out. Yea, even of domestics, some are more entire: he, that lay in Jesus's bosom, could receive that intelligence, which was concealed from the rest.

But who can tell, whether that silence or this answer be more grievous? I am not sent, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. What is this answer, but a defence of that silence and seeming neglect? While he said nothing, his forbearance might have been supposed to proceed from the necessity of some greater thoughts; but now, his answer professeth that silence to have proceeded from a willing resolution not to answer: and therefore he doth not vouchsafe so much as to give to her the answer, but to her solicitors; that they might return his denial from him to her, who had undertaken to derive her suit to him; I am not sent, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

Like a faithful ambassador, Christ hath an eye to his commis sion. That may not be violated, though to an apparent advantage. Whither he is not sent, he may not go. As he, so all his have their fixed marks set: at these they aim, and think it not safe to shoot at rovers. In matter of morality, it is not for us to stand' only upon inhibitions, avoiding what is forbidden; but upon commands, endeavouring only what is enjoined. We need no other rule of our life, than the intention of our several stations. And if he, that was God, would take no further scope to himself, than the limits of his commission, how much doth it concern us frail men to keep within compass!. Or what shall become of our lawlessness, that live in a direct contrariety to the will of him that

sent us?

Israel was Jacob's name; from him derived to his posterity. Till the division of the tribes under Jeroboam, all that nation was Israel: then, the father's name went to the most, which were ten tribes; the name of the son Judah to the best, which were two. Christ takes no notice of this unhappy division. He remembers the ancient name, which he gave to that faithful wrestler. It was this Christ, with whom Jacob strove; it was he, that wrencht his hip, and changed his name, and dismissed him with a blessing; and now he cannot forget his old mercy to the house of Israel. To that only, doth he profess himself sent. Their first brood were shepherds; now, they are sheep; and those not guarded, not empastured, but strayed and lost. O Saviour, we see thy charge; the house of Israel, not of Esau; sheep, not goats, not wolves; Jost sheep, not securely impaled in the confidence of their safe condition. Woe were to us, if thou wert not sent to us. He is not a Jew, which is one without. Every Israelite is not a true one. We are not of thy fold, if we be not sheep. Thou wilt not reduce us to thy fold, if we be not lost in our own apprehensions. O Lord, thou hast put a fleece upon our backs; we have lost ourselves enough: make us so sensible of our own wanderings, that we may find thee sent unto us, and may be happily found of thee.

Hath not this poor woman yet done? Can neither the silence of Christ, nor his denial, silence her? Is it possible she should have any glimpse of hope, after so resolute repulses? yet still, as if she saw no argument of discouragement, she comes, and worships, and cries, Lord, help me. She, which could not in the house get a word of Christ; she, that saw her solicitors, though Christ's own disciples, repelled; yet she comes. Before, she followed; now, she overtakes him: before, she sued aloof; now, she comes close to him: no contempt can cast her off. Faith is an undaunted grace: it hath a strong heart, and a bold forehead: even very denials cannot dismay it, much less delays. She came not to face, not to expostulate, but to prostrate herself at his feet. Her tongue worshipped him before; now, her knee. The eye of her faith saw that Divinity in Christ, which bowed her to his earth. There cannot be a fitter gesture of man to God, than adoration.

Her first suit was for mercy; now, for help. There is no use of mercy, but in helpfulness. To be pitied without aid, is but an addition to misery. Who can blame us, if we care not for an unprofitable compassion?

The very suit was gracious. She saith not, Lord, if thou canst, help me, as the father of the lunatic; but professes the power, while she begs the act; and gives glory, where she would have relief.

Who now can expect other than a fair and yielding answer to so humble, so faithful, so patient a suppliant? What can speed well, if a prayer of faith from the knees of humility succeeds not? And yet behold, the further she goes, the worse she fares her discouragement is doubled with her suit; It is not good, to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs. First, his silence im