Heavenly pastime, or, Pleasant observations on all the most remarkable passages throughout the Holy Bible of the Old and New Testament newly allegoriz'd in several delightful dialogues, poems, similitudes, and divine fancies / by John Dunton, author of The sickmans passing-bell.

CHAP. XVIII. The manner of Abrahams Sacrificing his Son Isaack, together with the remarkable Try∣all, both of his Constancy and Fidelitie, with a supposed Dialogue between God and Abraham, and Abraham and Isaack. (Book 18)

Gen. 22.

God Abraham commands to slay his Son, (To try his heart) for an Oblivion: He's ready to strike, but Gods Angel spake: Hold thy hand Abrah'm, spare thou Young Isaack.

THe Faith of Abraham is excellently well dis∣coursed of by an eminent Minister of Christs, now with God, saith he.

Abraham feared God, but was not afraid of God; his Faith was all tried, but not at all tired but he re∣joyced

as a strong man to run his Race; which is the more to be admired, if we consider what seeming reasonable Objections and fair Excuses Abraham might have made, when God tempted Abraham, and said,

God.

Abraham my Servant, my Friend: where art thou? Come forth, attend to execute my Com∣••ands.

Abraham.

Behold, here I am, speak Lord, for thy ••••••vant heareth; I am wholly at thy Command and Ser∣vice, do with me and mine what seemeth thee good; if thou bid me go, and if thou bid me come I will come; whatsoev••r thou bidst me do I will do it.

God.

Go then, saith God, take now thy Son, thine only Son Isaack, whom thou lovest, and get thee to the L••nd of Moriah, and offer him there as a Burnt-Offering upon one of the Mountains which I t••ll thee of.

A••raham.

To this he did not, but might have pleaded▪ Why Lord, thou art Bl••ssed in thy self, and n••edest not any thing; thou d••sir••st not Sacrifice, ••••se would I gi••e it thee; and thou ••elightest not in Burnt-Offerings: 'Tis true Lord, thy Sacrifices are a broken an•• a contri••e Spirit, and that I will willingly offer; ••o not despise bu•• accept thereof.

God.

But saith God, Offer thy Son.

Ab••••ham.

L••rd 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou wilt have an Offering, all my ••••rds and Fl••cks ••re at thy Ser••ice: Beh••ld (as long 〈◊〉〈◊〉 th••s Ar••u••ah s••id to Davi••) here ar•• Oxen for ••••rnt S••••rifices, an•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Instruments▪ and other ••••struments for Woo••: all th••se things will I give unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 King, and the Lo•••• m•• G•••• accep•• it.

Go••.

N•• s••••th God. I w••••l t••ke no Bullock out 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thine H••use, nor 〈◊〉〈◊〉-••••••ats out of thy Flock; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••very Bea••t of the Forr••st is mine, and the Cat∣••le o•• a thousand Hi••••s▪ 〈…〉〈…〉 all the Fowls of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Mountains and the Wil•• Be••sts of the Fields are 〈◊〉〈◊〉: If •• were an hungry I would not tell thee for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 World is mine, an•• the ••ulness thereof: Will I

eat the Flesh of Bulls, or drink the Blood of Goats? No Abraham, no, but offer thy Son.

Abraham.

Lord, it's true, thou art above these things, and he that offers thee Praise, honours thee; and therefore thou callest upon us to offer unto God Thanksgiving, and to pay our Vows to the most high; and Lord I am willing to pay my Vows in the great Congregation; accept of my thanks, and I will tha•• thee the more; receive these Vows as part of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and I will vow and pay thee more.

God.

No, saith God, nothing but thy Son, offer Abraham, offer thy Son.

Abraham.

Lord if thou wilt have the Flesh of Man to be Sacrificed, and his Blood to be powred out, then take one of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Servants: Do not call my sins to re∣membrance and slay my Son; Good Lord spare my Son.

God.

No, saith God, offer up thy Son.

Abraham.

Lord if thou wilt have a Son▪ take Is••∣mael; spare mine Isaac, Lord spare mine Isaac.

God.

No, saith God, take thy Son, even Isaac.

Abraham.

Lord he is my only Son; he hath not a Brother, nor are there any more in Sarah's Womb: Lord I beg only this, spare mine only Son.

God.

No, saith God, take thine only Son.

Abraham.

Why Lord, I have had him but a little while; if thou wilt take him, yet good Lord let mine Isaac and I rejoyce together yet a while.

God.

No, saith God, take him now.

Abraham.

But ah Lord I love him, and so to take Isaac, is to take my Life, which is bound up in th•• Life of the Lad; and if thou take him away, thou wilt bring down my Gray Hairs with sorrow to the Grave.

God.

Well, said God, I know thou lovest him, but must not you love me better: Offer up this Son, this only Son Isaack whom thou lovest.

Abraham.

But Lord, though thou art righteous, when I plead with thee, yet let me talk with thee of thy Iudg∣m••••ts▪ what wi••l the wicked say, w••en they shall hear

••hat thou delightest in Blood, and that thy Servants must offer their Children to the Lord; who will serve thee at ••his rate?

God.

Well, but, saith God, is not all the Earth mine own, and may not I do with mine own what I please; I that give may take: and therefore mind not you what the World will say, but what I say; and I say offer thy Son.

Abraham.

But Lord hast thou not commanded me to do ••o Murther, and must I now embrue my Hands in Blood ••nd in mine own Blood too: Oh happ•• me, might my Blood ••o for his: Oh! Isaack, Isaack, my Son Isaack; my ••on, my Son, would to Go•• I might die for thee: Oh! ••saack, my Son, my Son. Lord how can this stand with ••he Law that thou hast given me?

God.

Abraham, saith▪ God, such things are not first ••••st, and then willed by me; but willed by me, and ••••erefore just. A••raham, Do not you know that I ••an repeal or make exceptions? 'Tis I that say it▪ ••h••refore do it: Who is this that dark••neth counsel ••y words without knowledge? Gird up now thy ••oins like a Man; s••ite him, kill him? Have not I ••ommanded thee? be couragious, and a Son of va∣••our: Go offer thy Son.

Abraham.

But goo•• Lord, thou hast made this ex∣••••ption when thou di••st shew Man what was good and ••••asing in thine Eyes; thou woul••st not ••ha•• he shoul•• ••ive his first-born for his Transgression, ••or the fruit of ••is Body for the sin of his Soul▪ but to do justly, an•• to ••••ve Mercy, and to walk humbl•• with his God: To ••bey (thou sa••st it) is better than Sacrifice, and to ••earken than the sat of Lambs.

God.

Well then, saith God, hearken an•• o••ey: ••••is is to do Justice, this is (oh wonder) to shew Mer∣••••, this is to walk humbly with thy God.

A braham.

Seeing I have taken upon me to speak unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lord, I will yet say: Lord he is the Son of the Pro∣••ise, in whom thou hast said, that all the Nations of

the Earth shall be blessed: Now Lord if he die, an•• die a Child without Children; where is then the blessed••ness thou speakest of: what will become of the Blessing?

God.

Well Abraham, saith God▪ perform what •• command, and I will perform what I promise: what will Abraham, who was once not weak in Faith, an•• considered not his own Body, nor Sara's, when twic•• dead, who staggered not through unbelief at m•• Promise, but was strong in Faith, and gave me Glo••ry; w••o was fully perswaded that what I promise•• I was able to perform, an•• was not disappointed o•• his Hope, though against Hope: Will this Abraha•• now call me in question? Hast thou known my Name••punc; and wilt thou not trust in me? Am not I the Lor•• which change not? Have I said it is, and shall it no•• come to pass? Is there any thing too hard for God▪ Am not I able even of Stones to raise up Children unto Abraham? Cannot I say to dry Bones Live, tho•• hast received him from the Dead in a Figure; an•• were Isaack in the Grave, could not I, who am the Resurrection from the Dead, say, Isaack come forth arise and walk, that thy Father may receive th•••• with double joy; saying, Isaack my Son, who wa•• dead, yea, who was twice dead, is now alive? There••fore Abraham offer thy Son.

Abraham.

My dear Lord, seeing I who am but Du•••• and Ashes, have taken upon me to speak unto thee, O•• let not my Lord be angry if I speak once more: If I ma•• not prevail (oh that I might prevail) to save Isaack ••••live; yet let me intreat th•••• that I may not be the Pries•• let not mine hand be upon him: Can I see the death 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Child? Good Lord let som•• other do it: Surely •• cannot lif•• up my Hand, or if I do, shall I not wish 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may wither, or be turned into a stone? Will not thes•• Eyes run down with Rivers of Tears? Ah Lord! I ca•• speak no more; my h••art will break, my hand will sh••k•• send by whom thou wilt send, but let not me, Oh let 〈◊〉〈◊〉 m•• go.

God.

Yes Abraham, thou, take him thou, and go thou, and offer him thou, none but thou.

Abraham.

Ah Lord! Yet once more, but this once more and I have done. I am old and full of dayes, past Travail; spare me a little, let me not go so far as the Land of Moria; let it (if it must be done) be done at home.

God.

No Abraham, Take now thy Son, thine on∣••y Son Isaack, whom thou lovest, get thee into the Land of Moria, and offer him there, no where but there.

He is then all alone upon the way with his Son ••nd his two Servants, and he advanceth directly to Mount Moria as to the appointed place.

My dear Reader, I leave unto thy imagination what pa••••ed for the space of three dayes this journey ••••sted; repre••ent unto thy self, I beseech thee, ••hat thou art with him, whom thou dost love above ••ll men, thou seest him, thou speakest to him, thou ••rinkest to him, and sleepest with him, how will it ••e if at thy departure thou must see him die? And ••f thou thy self must present him the Poyson which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to stifle him? Husbands and Wives, Fathers and M••thers, Brothers, Kindred, A ••ociats, Friends, what Torments? What despairs? What punish∣••ents? When you stand at the Beds Feet, where ••ou shall behold your dearest affections, and your ••ost pleasing delights in the Agony of Death, what combats,* 1.1 and what Duels ••f Love, and Grief? What strength and ••esolutions to receive the last wor••s and ••••ghs of a dying Mouth, to whi••h a thou∣••••nd and a thousand chast kisses have been given, ••••d whose least breath was able to wipe aw••y all ••orts of sorrows? What Prodigy of constancy to ••ose with your Hands two Eyes which served as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the saddest obscurities of Life, which is but ••o much intermingled with mourning and plea∣sure?

In fine, how can we see with out dying, an•• other self at the point of death?

Nevertheless, this was but th•• image of a dying life,* 1.2 which Abraha•• led for the space of three dayes; on•• would swear that God had underta∣ken to make him dye ten thousand times upon thi•• sad way; every glance of Isaack was a mortal Jave••lin, which pierced his Heart, and yet he must hav•• him three times four an•• ••wenty hours before hi•• Eyes▪ there was a necessity of eating, drinking▪ and speaking with him: were not these entertain∣ments, and Feast of Death? He was constraine during the night to lay on his Breast, and in his Bo••som, that Head he was to cut off with his ow•• Hands: was not this a murthering sleep and a crue•• repose? In sine, he must render all the duties of •• Father to so amiable a Son, before he was to be hi•• Executioner, and he must needs hear almost ever•• moment the voice of Isaack calling him Father, wh•• went to m••rther him.

My God! What Preludes of death? What prepar••••tion to a Martyrdom, what Dialogue of Passions? Wh•••• affections, what dissimulations, what sorrows, wh•••• pleasures, what hopes, and what despairs? A Fat••e•• a Son, a Priest, a Victim, Wood, Fire, a Swor•• I••aacks Eyes and Heart are fixed on his Father, a•••• Abraham lost not the sight of Isaack but to behold b•• God. At every step this poor old Man sends a sigh 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Heaven to evaporate grief, which being shut up redo••••bl••s the mor••.

Surely my Heart even bleeds upon the ba•••• thought of this pittifull object. Alas! How cou•••• Ab••aham look on the criminal Sword which was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 give the stro••k? Where did he carry this ••nstr••••ment of Gods Justi••e? Me thinks I hear Isaack▪ every step saying, My Father: and Abrah•••• a••••swering Son, take courage, let us go my de•••• Child, we draw near to Moria.

O God! what vision and what approaches? Mountain of Moria hast thou no compassion, will not thy Tops, thy Rocks, and thy Stones mollifie ri∣gours, at the fight of ••o tragick an act, and which ••eems so unnaturall? Mountain of Moria become thou a plain rather than put this poor old Man, and this young Child to the trouble of ascending thy Top, where they are going to erect an Altar, and hew a Tomb.

But what! Nature cannot be sensible when her God deprives her of feeling, and Moria must not have greater tenderne••••es than the Heart of Abra∣ham.

Let Abraham then perform resolutely the Office of God the Father, and l••t not Isaack be ashamed with his own Blood, to mark out the way unto Ie∣sus, (of whom he was an Image and Figure) Let Abraham take his Sword to strike off Isaacks Head, and let Isaack take the Wood on his Shoulders which was provided to consume him.

A Dialogue between Abraham and Isaack.

The Argument.

Abraham long strugling with himself at l••st, His bound dear Isaack on the Altar plac'd, Acquaints him with Gods pleasure, nor denies The Lad to be a willi•••• Sacrifice; But the drea•• stroak is by an Angel stai'd, When in his stead▪ a Rain's an Offering made.

Abraham.

In Isaack must my Seed be called, and yet here must he die; strange thoughts perplex me, yet I must o••ey the will of him that gave me Being, and with re∣len••less hand destroy the Son of my desire; but God will have it so, and 'tis not ••or ••rail man to dispute his great Commands.

Isaack.

What means my Father by thus talking to himself! O how his Countenance dos often change▪ What cause can cause this mighty strugling in the Breast of Abraham, Father, dear Father speak, say whats the reason of this suddain Alteration: Where is the Sacrifice? You told me God would provide himself, is it through disappointment that you grieve? Nay Sir, why turn you from me, as displeased with him, you often call'd your joy, with him you use to dandle on your Lap, and seem well pleased, de∣lighting in his Innocent discourse, smiling at the prit∣ty pastime, and informing him that Kings and Prin∣ces should arise in his pos••••rity.

Abra.

O me! What shall I do, Heav'ns high com∣mand on one hand urges•• and on the other Nature pleads, telling me Isaack is my Son, my unoffending Child, m•• Ages Sole delight, in whom alone I promised my self such store of true felicitie.

Isaack.

Nay Father, Father, speak to me, and tell me what 'tis g••ieves you thus: What makes these Winter Clouds sit on your Brow? Why that M••p of Sorrow in your Face?

Abra.

O my Child, it is a dreadfull cause, thou the Sole comfort of my Age, must here be made a Sacrifice, my dear, dear, much loved Isaack, must become the sport of Crackling Flames, and have his Ashes scattered in the W••n••.

Isaack.

How must I die? O me! what have I done: Tell me, tell me, dear Father, have I con∣spired your Death, betrayed you to your Enemies, or with vile Slander spotted your Immortal Fame. Will you not speak? Why do's my Father thus se∣verely turn away his Eyes, and with a fatall Knife threaten the Life of his poor helpless Son. O tell me, tell me but my Crime, that I may die con∣tented!

Abra.

Alas! there is no Crime in thee my Son: 'Tis Gods command that urges what I here intend, the Great

••mmense Creator of the World, desires thee as a sweet ••melling Savour to his Nostrils, that he free thee from ••he miseries to come, and take thee to himself.

Isaack.

And is it Gods decree that I must bleed? Then welcome Death. O Father fear not then to ••ake my Life contentedly, I'll Bleed to be with him ••hat gave me being.

Abra.

O wretched Father, that I am, I now must do a deed at which the World will blush, and all those ••remble who see no farther than ••rail Natures Eyes ••ermit; but as for me, the Eye of Faith gives me a prospect of much Glory in't, and that Gods promise, that in Isaack shall my Seed be called, will never fail; for though my Son expire now by my Hand, yet God can ••aise him soon to Life again, and Recollect his scatter'd dust, though driven into e••ery Wind.

Isaack.

Why does great Abraham pause thus? Strike, Strike, my Father; see my willing Throat's prepared to meet the stroak; Heavens Anger will kindle at this cold delay, and Burn like a Consuming ••ire.

Abra.

O Man me Faith! whilst thus with averted Eyes, I strike the fatall stroak, that penetrates my heart; mean while that wretched Isaack Bleeds, and wounds my Soul more deep than this d••structive Steel c••n pierce. Yet God the mighty God of Abraham, must, must, be statisfied in Isaacks death; and thus I prove my Faith. Ah! why faulters my trembling hand? What whirlwind's this that thus disturbs the Air? What Cloud▪ involving dazling brightness is it that descends? What power in∣visible restrains me from p••rforming that which Heavens all glorious King Commands.

Angel.

Abraham, Abraham.

Abra.

How's this? A voice in Thunder too: O dreadfull! what amazment seizes me, and yet I'll An∣swer it? Lord, here am I, thy Trembling Servant speaks.

Angel.

Abraham, Abraham, lay not thy Hand upon

the Lad, neither do thou any thing unto him; for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy only Son from him.

Abra.

O Wonderfull! O Goodness all Divine! God, mighty, infinite, Omnipotent, and ever with sincer••st hearts to be Adored. How, How, shall I express my self in praising as I ought; a Majesty Tremendious, that still beams his Loving Kindness on unworthy me. See, see my Son, thy Life is safe, Heaven will not let thee die.

Isaack.

Heaven's will be done; If the Allmighty, the All-glorious King command my ••reath without a murmur, I'll resign what his Bounty lent me to Im∣prove for him.

Abra.

'Tis well resolved my Son, but see a Sacrifice prepared; who in thy stead shall Bleed? A Sacrifice our God has for himself provided; so in the dayes to come, the Blessed Messia bleeding for lost Man, shall purge his Sins and once more render frail•• Mortality the favorit of Heaven.

The Conclusion.

The Ram is by Glad Abraham slain, and made A Sacrifice, that pleases well his God; Which done, with Isaack he returns to tell, Vnthinking Sarah all that had befell; And has his Faith imputed Righteousness, Call'd Friend of God, the chi••f in Faithfullness.

Now Abraham is already at the foot of the Mountain, he commands his Servants away, he takes his only Isaack, he loads him with the Instru∣ments of his punishment. Let us go my dear Child, let us go my Son, let us go my Isaack, my Joy, my Hope and my Love.

Father whither do we go, answered Isaack? Alas what is your desire? I indeed see the Fire and the

Sword which you carry, as also the Wood on my Shoulders, but where is the Victim, which must be offered as an Holocaust? My Son trouble not your self; for God will provide one.

So Abraham still persists in his fidelity to God, he makes ready the Altar, he sets the Wood in order, he kindles the Fire, he draws his Sword out of the Scab∣bard, he takes Isaack into his Arms, he placeth him near the pile, he tyes his Hands, and puts the cover over his forehead; in sine, this innocent Lamb being on both his Knees, his Body half naked, and his Head bowed a little forward sighing sweetly without making the least complaint, or demanding any more why, ex∣pected the stroak of Death, when his Father (as it is very probable) began to acquaint him with the secret of his happy lot.

Isaack my most dear Son, thou didst ask me at the foot of the Mountain, where was the Victim of our Sa∣crifice. I answered thee, that God woul•• provide one; his Paternal Goodness hath done it, and his will i•• that thou must be the Victim, and I the Priest: it is very true, that thou art the object of my sweetest hopes, and that I should look on thee as the support of my ••ouse; but it is in God we must place our only hope; it is he that serves for a Basis and Piller to all fortunes, and it is his sage Providence, which holds in its hands good and evil, favours and disgraces, Life and Death. Dye then cheerfully my dear Child, and rest assured that I would willingly put my self in thy place, if God had so ordained. I adore his will, and I am too happy to serve as an instrument unto his commands? As for thee my poor Son, I had very constant proofs of thy sweet disposition, and if I had not often tryed how obe∣dient and pliable thou art unto Gods will and mine, I should endeavour more efficaciously to perswade thee; but it would be fruitless, and it is from Gods goodness and thy constancy I hope for the Grace of being inabled to offer and immolate thee with my own Hands.

What can Isaack say to this? It is enough for him to assent and be silent; I yet frame in my ima∣gination, that he besought his Father to give him his Sword, that he might kiss it as the rod of the wise Providence of Heaven. I believe also he bow∣ed down his Head a little more forward to testifie that his thoughts accorded with his Heart, and that his most real affections were ready to be immolated unto God and his Father.

In the mean while Abraham takes his Sword again into his Hand, and having bathed it with his tears, he lifts up his arm to discharge his blow upon the Neck of his Son.

But what will be the issue, will not all the Angels of Heaven who look upon this Sacrifice put some Victim, in Isaacks place? Divine Spirits, I call on you for Abraham and Isaack.

In conclusion, as Abraham had already lifted up his Arm, and was ready to dart the Thunder-bolt God had put into his Hand, the Voice of an An∣gel cryes out, Abraham, Abraham, I command thee from God not to touch the Child, and to pass no far∣ther.

Ah Lord, never was Love like thine; And thy Love O God to me Surpasseth that of Abraham to thee. The word is out, poor Abraham must be gone, Must take his Isaack, take his only Son: The Son of his affections; him from whom, From whose blest Loins so many Kings must come: Even him must Abraham slay; Abraham must rise▪ And offer Isaac a Burnt-Sacrifice. God scorns the offals of our saint desires; He gives the best, and he the best requires. Abraham forbears to question, thinks not good, To reason or converse with Flesh and Blood. Begs not young Isaack's Life, nor goes about

T'object the Law of Murther, makes no doubt. He rises, rises early, leads his Son, Hastes where this Holy slaughter must be done: When God bids go, that very Breath's a Warrant; We must not linger, for haste crowns the Errant: His Servants must no further, they must stay; Private Devotions claim a private way. They must abide with th' Asses, whilst th' aged Sir•• In one Hand takes the Knife, in th' other Fire. The sacred Wood of offering must be pil'd On the young shoulders of the innocent Child. Oh here mine Eyes must spend a Tear to see Thee bear the Wood, great God, that since bore thee: Mistrustless Isaack, seeing the Wood, the Fire, The sacrificing Knife, begins to inquire: But where's the Sacred Lamb that must be slain? Resolved Abraham, least the Flesh should gain Too much on Nature; sayes, Not thou my Son Art he: But th' Almighty will provide us one. Where God commands, 'tis not enough to effect, But we must baulk the occasion of neglect. The Faithful Abraham now erects an Altar, Orders the Wood; what Tongue can chuse but faltes To tell the rest? He lays his Hand upon His innocent Isaack, binds his only Son: He lays him down, raiseth his Priestly Knife; Vp rears his Arm to take his Isaack's Life. True Faith is active, cove••s to proceed, From thought to action, and from will to deed. Before the strengthened stroke had time to fall, A sudden voice from Heaven cryes hold, recall Thy threatning Arm, and sheath thy Holy Knife, Thy Faith hath answered for thy Isaack's Life. Touch not the Child, thy Faith is throughly shown, That has not spared thine own, thine only Son. How easie is our God, and Labour, who Counts it as done, what we have will to do.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Duel of Grief and Love.
• * 1.2

  Martyrdom for three dayes.