The holy court in five tomes, the first treating of motives which should excite men of qualitie to Christian perfection, the second of the prelate, souldier, states-man, and ladie, the third of maxims of Christianitie against prophanesse ..., the fourth containing the command of reason over the passions, the fifth now first published in English and much augemented according to the last edition of the authour containing the lives of the most famous and illustrious courtiers taken out of the Old and New Testament and other modern authours / written in French by Nicholas Caussin ; translated into English by Sr. T.H. and others.

DAVID. SOLOMON.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of King David

DAVID REX.

[illustration] portrait of King Solomon

SALOMON REX.

DAvid is a great mixture of divers ad∣ventures, of Good, of Evils, of Joyes, of Griefs, of Contempts, of Glories, of Vices, of Virtues, of Actions, of Passions, of un-thought-of Suc∣cesses, of strange Accidents and Marvels. It is not my purpose to set forth his Life here, which is exactly contained in the holy Scripture, but to make some reflexions on the principall things therein that concern the Court. We will consider him in a two-fold estate, of a Servant, and of a Master, and will observe with what wisdome he preserved him∣self in the one, and with what Majesty he behaved himself in the other.

The whole beginning of his History is a continuall combate against an horrid monster, which is the jea∣lousie of Saul, which torments him a thousand wayes, for to adorn him with as many Crowns. An Antient * 1.1 said very well, That the greatest secret of ones life was to undergo destiny, and endure patiently the ordinance of God concerning our lives and estates; for by learn∣ing Patience, we learn to forget our misery; but by * 1.2 bearing the Divine appointment with Impatience, we row all our life against a torrent which swallows us up.

David was at the heart of God, but he was not at the heart of Saul: God had made him for to com∣mand, and Saul would not allow any wayes that he should be obeyed: He sought his life, when as God had appointed his Crown for him: He desired his death, and procured for him immortality.

God and man did strive, who should exalt or de∣presse this man; but the counsels of the one were immoveable, and the endeavours of the other were violent in their on-sets, and feeble in their effects.

Assoon as David was seen, one might see some Di∣vine * 1.3 thing; a little body well made, enlivened with a great spirit; a comelinesse which could not be learned at school, but which was a gift from above; a mildnesse without weakenesse; a behaviour without affectation; a valiantnesse without ostentation; a gallantnesse with∣out vanity; a virtue that was made to be admired by all, and imitated but by few.

All flowers have their being from the earth by their * 1.4 roots, but they have influences from heaven much dif∣ferent. Men also are all of Adams clay, but the gifts of God do manifest themselves in some so visibly, that it is wisdome to give them place, and but headinesse to fight against them. This little boy neglected, which fed the sheep, and whom the father would not so much as reckon amongst the number of his sonnes, this is He, whom Samuel chose for King by Gods di∣rection, who commands not to measure Kings any more by their stature, but by their endowments from heaven.

He comes first to the Court under the quality of a * 1.5 player on instruments, there he makes himself known for a good Souldier; admired, as Commander of an Army; and crowned, as a Conquerour. Saul was tor∣mented with an evil spirit, which was maintained by his melancholick Humour, and nourished by his passi∣on. They seek out for him a fair young man, which withall was skilfull in playing on the Harp for to make him merry. One of his servants said, that Da∣vid the sonne of Jesse would be very fit for that em∣ployment; he is sent for in the Kings Name, he comes,

he pleaseth while he played on the instruments, but he displeases while he handled his weapons, when as En∣vy * 1.6 begins to cause his valour to be reputed for a fault. Such kind of enraged asps never sleep at the sound of Musick, his Devil is offended at this comelinesse, is incensed by those gallant actions, and even vomits its poison against those which cast flowers at it. Saul knew not that God prepared him this little Musician for to be his heir, if hee had known that which heaven intended to do with this child, that would have sufficed to have troubled all the Musick.

He was at that time happy in his blindnesse, and his first mischance was to have eyes which could not endure the lustre of anothers virtues. This young shepherd, which in his apprenticeship had learned to fight with Lions and Bears, would go to the warres as well as his brethren, who do blame that his curiosity, and despise his person.

There must alwayes be some famous exploit for to put a man at first in great credit at the Court, all that which is humane goes on very slowly; and an ability is not gotten but by long experience. But when God will put to his hand, he gives to a man in one happy moment, that which thirty years pains could not obtain. The combate with Goliah * 1.7 was that that raised David; Heaven had prepared this giant for to serve for a triall of his valour, and for an ornament of his prowesse. One man alone, which had affrighted a whole army, nine foot high, and armed with five hundred pound weight of iron, continues for the space of fourty dayes his stately bravado's, challenging the stoutest of the Israelites to combate.

All their hearts are frozen at the sound of his terri∣ble voyce; there is not his like in the world which dares come forth against him. The King propounds great riches, and his daughter in mariage to him, which would take away this blemish from the people of God printed on the face of the whole army by this Philistim.

David hereupon presents himself, and goes forth to fight with him, not with the guilded Arms of Saul, but with a Sling.

The Giant scoffs at him, and finding him sufficient∣ly armed to defend himself from dogs, but not for to set upon men, he looks now upon this little body as a fit prey for some bird of rapine. But this Cham∣pion of the Lord of Hosts, reads a lesson first to him of Religion, before he shews him his skill in fencing. Thou comest to me (saith he) with a spear, a sword, and a buckler, but I come to thee in the name of the God of armies; of the God of the hosts of Israel, at which thou this day hast scoffed with so great insolence.

It is written in heaven, that this great God will de∣liver thee into mine hands, and that I shall take away thy head from off thy shoulders, and that I shall make a great feast for all beasts of prey with the flesh of this monstrous body, and this shall be the means for thee to learn that there is a God in Israel. He saith it, he doth it, he strikes his adversary with a blow of the sling in the midst of his fore-head, and makes this mighty tower of flesh to fall in a moment, this terrible giant, cutting off his head with his own sword; which put the whole army of the Philistims to confusion, and lifted up the glory of the chosen people to an incomparable heighth.

Behold the fountain of all great evils that David suffered afterwards; all the laurels that he gathered in the field of the battel, carried an evil tincture of Sauls envy. The great ones admire him, the people applaud him, he is the subject of the Songs of the daughters of Jerusalem, which set him above Saul.

It is this musick that enraged his evil spirit, and would * 1.8 not give him any rest: Goliah overcome in the opinion of all the world, is still upon his legs to torment him: here is the cause of his rage, as it was before of his fear. David must be destroyed, because he hath saved the Nation, he must be put to death because he hath restored the people to life, he must be disho∣noured for having upheld the honour of the King, he is sufficiently faulty; because he is too virtuous.

They say, that Love and Tears are learned with∣out * 1.9 any master, and I may say, that there is no great need of studying at the Court, to learn Envy and Re∣venge. It is a strange thing that Saul of a simple coun∣trey-fellow, should become so malicious and subtil a Courtier, as to practise the most refined dissimulations of the Court. He had resolved to destroy David, and yet conceived that this duel with Goliah had set him in too high an esteem in the opinion of the people, and that if he should openly attempt against his life, he should bring his own into danger. He thought best to bestow on him a chief place in the Army, under pretence of ho∣nour, which might be most subject to the violence of the Philistims, believing that his courage would carry him into dangers, and that the Philistims being incensed by the death of their countrey-man, would no wayes spare him, and that by this means his death would be imputed to his Destiny, and not to the Envy of Saul.

But after that he saw that he returned from the ma∣nifest dangers, with a crowned head, with the applause of the people, and that he behaved himself within the Kingdom with very great wisdome; he began to suspect him more then before: he took heed of bestowing great riches on him, and married his eldest daughter which he had promised to him, to another, using him by this means injuriously.

Nevertheless, for that his honour was engaged there∣in, and that one might justly complain of his faithless∣nesse, he took advice to marry him to his younger, which was Michol, with very harsh and dangerous conditions, making him to buy a thing that was due to him, by the death of 200. Philistims, conceiving that by so great a number of men and so many fights re-iterated, he might be entangled in some mischance; or if he should escape that, the best that could hap was onely to gain a wo∣man of a costy humour which would be to him but for a reproach, and much discontent.

Behold how mans reasoning doth propound: but * 1.10 God which catches the subtil in their devices, and over∣throws the designs of the malicious to establish his own counsels upon their ruines, caused the victories and the marriage of David to succeed to his good content, toge∣ther with the good will and admiration of all the Court. Jonathan the eldest son of Saul was so astonish∣ed * 1.11 with his valiant exploits, his rare virtues, and his in∣comparable brave carriage, that he loved him as his own heart, and bereft himself of the most precious things that he had, to adorn him withall. David likewise swears unto him reciprocally an immortal friendship.

These two souls, to speak according to the phrase of the Scripture, were united together with an indissolu∣ble affection. Their hearts were two fornaces which continually breathed forth flames of sacred love, and might sooner be found without any thoughts, then to be without thinking one of the other. Their se∣parations were as so many dyings, and their meetings again did prevent their paradise. The longest dayes were but as a small moment while they lovingly conversed together, then they never perceived that the time ran away, and they were departed from each other, but with promise to visit again as soon as may be. Each of them in their absence seemed

to it self a wandring soul without habitation, and without a body; their spirits made wonderful transpi∣rations for to joyn themselves together, and talk to each other as in an Idea, when Saul hindred their visits.

Poor Jonathan, which was of an incomparable mild∣nesse, * 1.12 declared to his father, as much as he could, the Innocency of David, and the great services that he had done for the Crown; and when he saw his spirit mo∣ved against him, he was almost ready to die therefore, he ceased not to represent to him with horrour of mind the monstrous impiety that it would be to sacrifice such a personage as he, which had so often devoted him∣self for the safety of his Countrey, the out-cry of the people; and the vengeance of God. At other times he dealt with him with sweet and persvvasive language, causing him (as it were) to touch with his fingers the brave carriage and excellencies of David, and assuring him, that there was not a man in his whole Kingdome which was of a more harmlesse and pleasing a conver∣sation, and that it was the joy of his heart, and his one∣ly safety to have him alwayes at his side.

Saul suffered himself to be overcome with these his discourses, whether it were indeed that he was perswa∣ded, * 1.13 or whether he feigned himself to be appeased, and suffered David, whom he had driven farre of, to return again near his person. But this mad-man, upon a day when he played on the Harp in his presence, took his launce, and endeavoured to strike him through there∣with, which he dad done, if David by his nimblenesse had not avoided that evil blovv; and lest that any should charge him vvith this perfidiousnesse, he excused it by the distemper of his spirit. Jonathan endeavoured yet another time this reconciliation, but having been re∣pelled by Saul by pricking words, and vvith threatnings to kill him, if he did not give over this his frienship with David; he saw clearly that there was no more safety for his friend, and gave him the counsel which was for himself the sharpest of all, causing him to retire.

David goes from the Court, and makes a sad de∣parture from his friend, for to avoid the unmercifull fury of his father.

These two dear souls on the day of this sad departure were pierced with a thousand darts of grief, and were a thousand times upon their eyes and lips for to fly from thence, and to mingle themselves one with the other. The time past caused them to remember that which they had lost; the present, that which they were to lose; and that to come, was unto them a bottomlesse pit of terrour and affrightment. They apprehended the one for the other, as many dangers as there are upon the earth and sea, and they could not promise themselves any thing but dayes without comforts, and nights full of terrible dreams and torments. They poured out so many tears, and fetched so many sighs, having no other eloquence but that of their hearts mutually wounded in their lodging, that it was a thing vvorthy of com∣passion, even of Saul himself.

This mad-man seeing that he vvas escaped out of * 1.14 his bloudy hands, vvould have caused him to be taken, and sent forth souldiers for to bring him back. But his vvife Michol having descryed the evil intent of her fa∣ther, advertised her husband of it, and made him depart suddenly in the deep silence of the night, putting in his place an image in his bed. The house failed not to be set upon the next morning, and the Guard of Saul entring by force, passed on unto the bed and found there the counterfeit. Michol vvas accused hereof and chidden by Saul, but she excused her self, saying, That her husband had compelled her to do this, threatning to kill her, if she would not obey, and that the presence of so manifest a danger had forced her to procure this inven∣tion. He ceased not to encrease his anger, and to invent every day new means to destroy him, whom he ought to have preserved above all men.

In the mean time David knew not whither to retire * 1.15 himself, and saw himself every day, amongst the nets, hunted like a poor beast, which caused him to passe a life so worthy to be esteemed by the whole world in very many bitternesses. He would have taken the boldnesse to have gone to Samuel, who was yet alive, but this his interview would have been prejudicial both to the one and the other, in the the mind of Saul, which turned all its suspicions into fury.

He removed himself from thence unto the town of * 1.16 Nob, to the high Priest Ahimelech; who seeing him in very small equipage, was somewhat amazed at his ar∣rivall: but David for to confirm him, told him, that he went about a certain urgent businesse, which the King had given him in cha••ge, and that it was neces∣sary that it should be done without noise: the which had compelled him to take but few people with him, which were come forth very suddenly, without having leasure to take order for necessary things for their jour∣ney; whereby, he should do him a great pleasure to give him some bread, and to help him to some weapons, which the haste of the businesse would not suffer him to take.

The Priest answered, that he had no other loaves then those of the shew-bread which were consecrated, but that they might make use of them, if they were pu∣rified, and especially if they abstained from all converse with women: of which David having assured him, he gave them those, and having no other sword then that of Goliah, which was kept in the Tabernacle for a Monument, he presented it to him, wherewith he was very well contented, judge∣ing it the best of all, and so went forward in his way.

Saul having heard a report that David had ap∣peared, entred into great forrests, and going through a wood with a lance in his hand, being compassed by his Captains and Officers, sharply complained of the un∣faithfulnesse of his servants, asking them with reproach, What it was that David had promised them, and whe∣ther he would give them every one Lordships, or make them Captains, or Camp-masters, that they had thus forsaken their Prince? That it was a pitifull thing to behold him betrayed of his own children for to uphold a rebel, which sought nothing but an occasion to get his Crown from him.

Hereupon, Doeg, master of the shepherds of Saul, and * 1.17 Idumean by nation, and of barbarous behaviour, ha∣ving been at Nob when David passed by there, and de∣sirous to get favour with his Master, accused Ahimelech the Priest, with all his company, for having helped Da∣vid with weapons and Provision, and having testified a good affection to his party: which caused Saul to send for him presently, and handle him with great anger, re∣proaching him with villany, and suspecting him of treason. The other answered very wisely, That he be∣ing retired from the knowledge of business at the Court, and of the Bed-chamber, he could not know the intents of David, but knowing very assuredly the good-will that the King had testified towards him the great char∣ges and commissions wherewith he had honoured him, the favour that he had shewed to him by so neerly ally∣ing him to his house, he could not, nor he ought not to drive him away from his lodging, having received no command from the King, and not being able to under∣stand by any the offence that David had incurred.

This excuse was very just and lawful. But the vio∣lent * 1.18 are never contented with reasons, intending to be masters of the Laws, although they are slaves to their brutish passions. Saul commanded without any other

form of proceedings to kill him with those of his com∣pany, which the souldiers did very much abhorre, and there was not found one that durst lift up his hand a∣gainst those sacred persons. But Doeg that villanous but∣cher, w^ch had a long time been bred up in slaying beasts, having gathered together the small rable of his servants, set upon the high Priest and the Priests which accompa∣nied him, to the number of 85. which were all murdered in one day, and this cursed servant stretching further yet the command of his master, drave on his murderers to the sacking of the town of Nob, which they filled with fire and bloud.

What will not the jealousie of State do? what will not tyranny, rage, and fury, when they are seconded by evil servants which blow the coal able to devour both men and towns? Saul, the plain countrey-fellow, the cordiall man, the child of one year, after he had suckt the breath of this serpent, kills the high Priest and the Priests, buries the smoking towns in the bloud of the miserable citizens. A thousand poor bloudy sacrifices stretched out upon the cart, pleaded sufficiently before God with the voyce of their bloud, for to pull down this in humane Tyrant, for whom all the furies prepared their pincers and torches.

Poor David having understood by Abiathar the son of the high Priest all that was past, was pierced with a most bitter grief, accusing himself as the cause of the death of those unhappy ones, and took along with him, him that brought him this sad news, using him as his own brother. He perceived well, that the spirit of Saul * 1.19 was wholly envenomed, and in despair of remedy, he sa∣ved himself in the cave of Adulla, where he thought he had been hid from the eyes of the whole world. But his father and his brethren flying the persecution, ceased not till they had found him therein, and did wonderfully pierce his tender heart, lamenting for the change of his fortune, because they perceive not any more in him a David triumphant the object of all the thoughts and discourses of all tongues. But he comforted them, pro∣mising not to forsake them, and recommended all that was dearest unto him, which was the person of his father * 1.20 with that of his mother, to the King of Moab, until that he knew what it would please God to do with him.

At the same time, all the banished, all that fled for * 1.21 safety, & all the miserable betook themselves unto him, unto the number of 400. men, which entrenched them∣selves in a fortresse, going forth every day for to rob, to maintain themselves thereby. In the midst of all these misfortunes, the good Prince kept alwayes in his heart a true love of his countrey, and knowing that the Phi∣listims had laid siege before Keilah, he failed not to go to help it, and to deliver it, although this ungratefull city was intened to deliver him to Saul, if he had en∣closed himself therein; the which he would not do, ha∣ving consulted with the Oracle of God, but retired himself to the desert of Ziph, whither Jonathan that * 1.22 burned with a great desire to see him, came to find him secretly, and they were for some time together with unspeakable expansions of heart. This good friend comforted him, and assured him, that he should be King after his father, and for himself he would be content to be his second; which sufficiently witnessed the wonderfull modesty of this Prince, and the incom∣parable love that he bore to David.

But the Ziphims, men for the time that would pro∣vide for their own safety, sent their deputies to Saul, to advertise him, that David was retired into their quar∣ters, and if it pleased him to follow him, they would deliver him into his hands. At the which Saul was exceeding joyful, and entred the chase to entrap him, compassing him on every side, and hunting him like a poor deer chased by men and dogs with great out cries. The danger was very manifest, and David in great ha∣zard to be taken, had it not been for a happy message, it may be, procured by Jonathan, that advertised Saul, that the Philistims had taken the field, and made great waste upon his lands, at which he returned to bring re∣medy thereto, deferring his former design till another occasion.

In the mean while, David ran from desert to desert * 1.23 with his troops, and was hardly able to live, which made him have recourse to Nabal a rich man, and that had great means, entreating him for some courtesie for to maintain his people, which had used him with very great respect, defending his house, his flocks, and all his family against the spoilings of robbers. This Nabal, that was clownish and covetous, answered the deputies of David, that he knew not the son of Jesse, but that he was not ignorant, that there were evil servants enough, which were fled from their masters, and that he was not in case to take the bread from his hired servants for to give it to high-way men. This word being told to Da∣vid, incensed him so much, that he was going to set up∣on his house for to rob and sack it. But Abagail the * 1.24 wife of Nabal, better behaved, and wiser, without bu∣sying her self to discourse with her husband, that was a fool and drunk, caused presently mules to be loaden with provision necessary for the men of war, and went to meet David, to whom she spake with so great wis∣dome, comelinesse, and humility, that she turned away the tempest, and stayed the swords already drawn out of the scabbards for to make a great slaughter in her house. David admiring the wisdom and goodnesse of this spi∣rit of the woman, married her after the death of her hus∣band. It is so true, that a good deed bestowed on a high * 1.25 person in time of his affliction, and when he hath most leasure to consider it, is a seed-sowing which in its time brings forth and bears fruits of blessednesse.

After that Saul had driven back the Philistims, he re∣turns to the pursuit of David, accompanied with three thousand men, with a purpose to take him, although he should hide himself under ground, or should fly through the air. And indeed he crept up rocks unaccessible, * 1.26 which were not frequented by any but by wild goats; and as he passed that way, he entred into a cave for some naturall necessity, where David was hid, with a small number of his faithfullest servants, which failed not to tell him, that this was the hand of God, which had this day delivered his deadly enemy into his hands, and that he should not now lose time, but to cut him off quickly, whilst that he gave him so fair play, and this would be the means to end all those bitternesses, wherewith his life was filled by the rage of this barba∣rous Persecutour.

This was a strong temptation to a man so violently * 1.27 persecuted, and whose life was sought by so many out∣rages. Neverthelesse, David stopping all those motions of revenge, resolved in his heart, by a strong inspiration of God, never to lay his hands upon him which was consecrated King, and contenting himself with cutting off the skirts of his coat, he went out of the cave after Saul, and crying with a loud voice, he worshipped him pro∣strate on the earth, holding in his hand the piece of his casock, and saying to him, Behold my Lord, my Father, and my King, the innocence of my hands, and do not be∣lieve them any more which filled you with suspicions of poor David: you cannot be ignorant at this time, that God hath put you into my power, and that I could have handled you ill, & by taking away your life have saved mine own. But God hath kept me by his holy grace from this thought, and hath preserved you from all evil. I never yet had any intent to hurt your Majesty, having alwayes reverenced and served it, as your most humble servant and subject; whiles that you cease not to pesecute

me, and to torment my poor life with a thousand affli∣ctions: Alas, my Lord, what is it that you desire? Against whom are you come forth with so great furniture of Arms and Horses? against a poor dead Dog, a mise∣rable little beast? I beseech the living God to judge between us two, and to make you to know the goodnesse of my cause.

One may avouch, that great and glorious actions * 1.28 of Clemency do never hurt Princes, but that often they do place or keep the Crown upon their heads, God and Men concurring to favour that goodnesse that appro∣ches so near to the highest. Saul was so amazed with this action, that he ran to him, and embraced him weeping, and said to him, This is a sure sign, O Da∣vid, which I acknowledge at the present, and where∣by I know for certain that you must reign after me, so great a goodnesse not being able to be rewarded but by an Empire. I do pray and conjure you onely to have pity on my poor children after my death, and not to revenge your injuries upon them: hereupon he swore to him, to deal with him afterwards peaceably.

But as this spirit was unequall, and did oftentimes * 1.29 easily depart from reason for long seasons; David re∣solved to go out of the Kingdome, and to betake him∣self to Achish King of the Philistims: Some may seek occasion to blame his behaviour in this matter, and may think it strange, that he should retire himself to the Philistims, the sworn enemies of the people of Israel, especially after this reconciliation and oath passed be∣tween him and Saul. But it must be considered, that his life was no wayes assured within the Kingdome, and that Saul at another time having given so solemn a promise to Jonathan for the safety of his friend, yet would have kill'd him with his own hand: and further that he was every day in danger to be set upon by arms from the other party, with effusion of bloud both of the one and other, and that it seemed better to him to avoid the occasion, then to see himself perpetually obliged by so miserable a necessity to defend himself.

Further he considered, that he brought his chiefest friends into danger, not being able to retire himself amongst them, without making them guilty of treason, and exposing them to slaughter: lastly he found not so much security amongst other Kings, which having no war with Saul, would have made some difficulty in en∣terteining him, or might have delivered him up, after they had received him, for their own commodity.

This made him resolve to take his refuge amongst a Nation, that bore an irreconcileable hatred against Saul. But forasmuch as some have thought, that he * 1.30 bore arms for Achish against the people of God, this is manifestly convinced of falshood, by the Text of the Scripture, where it is expressly said, that David did in∣vade the Amalekites, and other people Infidels, al∣though that Achish perswaded himself, that he would do the like to the Israelites, after he had been so evilly used by his own Nation. But he used dissimulation herein, for to maintein himself in good favour with the King, as the Doctour Tostatus hath very well noted: And this was the cause that the great ones of the Kingdome, which perceived this dissembling of David, would never suffer him to be in the Army-Royall, in the day that the battell joyned against the people of Israel, saying openly to the King, that he would betray the party, and would reconcile himself with his own men by the price of the lives of the Phi∣listims, unto the great disadvantage of the whole Realm; which was the cause that Achish gave him leave to depart fairly, excusing it upon the suspicions which the Noble-men had taken of him.

At the last, the fatall day of Saul drew near, and he saw the Philistims which came thick and threefold up∣on him with the chiefest forces of their Empire, he felt * 1.31 the remorse of conscience, and the blood of so many Innocents undeservedly shed, ceased not to leap up a∣gainst his faulty head. In these confusions of a trou∣bled spirit, by the representation of his crimes, he sought unto the Divine Oracles, to learn what he should do in so pressing a necessity. But this unhap∣py Prince, that had used Samuel so unworthily in his life, and driven away as farre as he could all honest men from his councels, for to let loose the raines of his fury, sought after the dead in vain, having trod under feet the admonitions of the living.

I have declared in the Maxime concerning the Im∣mortality of the soul, the whole discourse about his consulting with the Witch at Endor, and it is not my purpose here to trouble again my Reader with the rehearsall of those things. We may onely note, that the soul of Samuel, having appeared before that the Sorceresse could employ the charms of her profession, rebuked Saul for having disquieted it, and foretold him the routing of his Army, his Death, with that of his Children, at which he was so affrigh∣ted, that he fell down in a swound, having eaten no∣thing all that day. Whereat the Sorceresse having pi∣ty, and having prepared somewhat to eat, was ur∣gent with him to take some little refreshment, which he did, and condescended to her intreaties, and those of his servants.

After he went from her table, he marched all night, * 1.32 that he might come to the Army, whether it were that he did not firmly believe that his last mishap, or whe∣ther he would willingly sacrifice himself, without any contrarying Gods appointment. The next morning he perceived the Army of the Philistims wonderfully in∣creased, and with full resolution to fight, and on the contrary the Israelites exceedingly weakned and which seemed already to carry the picture of their disastre printed in their faces. The enemies gave the onset with very great violence, and overthrew the van-gard, in which Jonathan was with his two brethren, all which sealed the last proofs of their valour with their blood and death. The miserable father saw carryed away be∣fore he dyed, all that might have obliged him to live; and presently perceived that the whole body of the Ar∣my of the Philistims was falln upon him, and yet for all that he had no desire to retire, not willing to over∣live those his misfortunes. He was ill handled by those of the forlorn hope, which ceased not to let fly their arrows very thick upon the Troops where he was, and which fell with such violence and multitude, that they seemed to imitate the hail in a great tempest, which furiously beats down the hopes of a poor husbandman. He saw his bravest Captains dy before his eyes, which sacrificed themselves with despair of better fortune, and although he were wounded with many wounds, and that he had lost almost all his blood, yet he stoutly up∣held * 1.33 himself, desiring nothing so much as to dye in the bed of honour. But as forces failed him, and the violence of his adversaries redoubled, fearing lest they had a pur∣pose to take him alive, he commanded his Target-bear∣er to make an end of him, and to give him his deaths-blow, before he should fall into the hands of the Phi∣listims. The other excused himself wisely, saying, That he would never undertake that against his Majesty, and upon so sacred a person, and that one ought to ex∣pect the destiny and not to prevent it. Then Saul see∣ing that he could not dye so soon as he desired, neither by the hands of his friends nor of his enemies, suffered himself to fall upon his sword, and made it enter into him, vomiting forth both his soul and blood, with ra∣gings and griefs unspeakable. The Philistims having found his body amongst the dead corps, took off his ar∣mour,

and cut off his head, which they carried through the towns of Palestina, for a pittifull spectacle, ma∣king many thanksgivings in the Temple of their Idol for this victory. And not content herewith, they took the body of the King, with those of his three children, and hung them upon the walls of Bethshan, where they were seen, untill the time, that certain valiant men of his party took them away by night, and gave them bu∣riall. Such was the end of this unhappy Prince, whom impiety, disobedience, love of himself, and the jealou∣sie of State accompanied with his ordinary ragings, threw head-long into a gulf of calamities.

At the same time that this unhappy battell was * 1.34 fought, David was pursuing the Amalekites, which in his absence had sacked the town of Ziklag, which was the place of his retireing that Achish the King of the Philistims had bestowed upon him. He was so happy that he overtook those robbers loaden with their prey, and took out of their hands his two wives Ahinoam and Abigail, whom they had taken a∣way. As he came from this battell, a young Amale∣kite presents himself, and brings him the news of the death of Saul, of Jonathan, and of his other sons, affirming that he himself had stood by at the death of the King, and had helped him to dye, by order which he had received from him, cutting off the thread of his life, and delivering him from those deadly pains that caused him to languish: and for a proof hereof he shewed him his Crown and his bracelet, which he presented to David, hoping for a great reward from him.

But this virtuous and wise Prince, aswell for consci∣ence sake, as his reputation, took great heed of receiving or manifesting any joy at this accident, but on the con∣trary, being moved with extream grief, he tore his gar∣ments, and put all his court in mourning, he wept, he fasted, he made funerall Orations for the honour of Saul and Jonathan, and set forth lamentations which caused as great esteem of his virtue, as they moved pi∣ty to his countrey. Not content herewith, he caused the Amalekite that brought him the news of the death of Saul, to dye by Justice, which he himself had helped to confirm (according as he had avouched) by obedi∣ence and by compassion, not enduring that he should lay hands upon a King, for to take away his life from him, by any pretence whatsoever that he could alledge.

It seemed that after the death of this unhappy Prince, David should forthwith have taken possession of all his estates, but wisdome hindred him from proceeding herein so hastily: They knew that he had not assisted at the the battell for to help his people, that he had re∣tired himself into the hands of the capitall enemies of Israel, and many might very justly think, that he had born arms for Achish, which might diminish much the great opinion that they had of his virtue. Further also, although that Saul was not so much loved in his life∣time, yet his death might very well have defaced that blemish of hatred that many had conceived against him. They considered that he had sacrificed himself with his three sons for the publick safety, and had spa∣red nothing for his countrey. They had pity on the evil usage that the Philistims had done unto his body; his former good actions in time past, the dignity of a King, his laborious life, and tragicall death, did quell all the envie that any could have at his fortunes.

Hence it was that Abner his chief Captain, who was a man sufficiently upright, would not lose any time, but seeing there remained yet a son of Saul named Ish∣bosheth, aged fourty years, although he was but of lit∣tle courage, and as little understanding, he made him presently to come into the Camp, and caused him to be declared the true and lawfull successour of the estates of Saul, not so much for the esteem that he had of his sufficiency, or for the love that he bore him, as inten∣ding to reign by him, and over him. All the people gave unto him the oath of Allegiance, except the kin∣dred of Juda, from which David was sprung, which gathered together in favour of him, and crowned him King in Hebron, where he reigned about seven years, before he possessed the whole power of the Empire.

The Kingdome of Judah was then one body with * 1.35 two heads, the house of Saul and David clashing against each other, not so much by the inclination of the Masters, as by the ambition of the Favourites and Servants which would reign at their costs.

Abner was high and courageous; Joab also the * 1.36 chief Captain of David, stern and violent, which would gain the favour of his Master by devouring him, in the which he did not succeed well, for that the spirit of David was not so feeble as to comply with such be∣haviour; and it was nothing but necessity which cau∣sed him to passe by many things.

These two chief Captains full of jealousie the one * 1.37 over the other, meeting together at the Fish-pond of Gibeon with the chief of the Nobility, Abner began first and demanded a combat under pretence of play; unto whom Joab which had no need of a spur, easily consented. Presently one might see the young men of each side nimbly to bestir themselves, whose fingers did itch to be at it, and did not fail quickly to surprise one another. The sport growing hot by little and little came to a full combat, and at last to a battell where ma∣ny remained upon the place.

Joabs party was the stronger, and that for twenty which he lost, he killed three hundred and sixty of Ab∣ners men who was constrained to retire himself.

But Azael the brother of Joab a nimble runner fol∣lowed * 1.38 him lively with his sword at every turn ready to wound him, the other which had no desire to slay him, being not ignorant that if it should come to that, it would prove the seed of an irreconcileable enmity be∣tween him and Joab his brother, prayed him twice to depart from him, and to content himself with the spoil of some other, without being ambitious of his. Azael would not hearken unto him, but desired to make him∣self famous by getting the better of the Captain of the Army. At last he seeing him insolent unto that extre∣mity, turned back and struck him through with his Launce. Joab and Abishai his two brethren incensed with that his slaughter, followed Abner with all their force, who saved himself upon a hill, where a great squadron of the family of Banjamin encompassed him, and cryed with a loud voice unto Joab, saying, shall the sword devour for ever? and would he make of a sport so deadly a tragedy, as if he were ignorant that it was dangerous to drive them to despair? Joab caused a retrait to be sounded, making a shew to do that for courtesie, which he agreed to for necessity.

Abner laying aside his warlike humour, fell in love * 1.39 with a Concubine of Saul named Rispah, which was a woman well bred and of good courage. Ishbosheth was offended thereat, for that he had done this without telling him of it. But Abner for one poore word spo∣ken to in a very mild manner, entred into a rage against * 1.40 his King, and said that it was to use him like a dog, to quarrel with him for a woman, after so great services as he had done for the Crown, reproching his Master, for that he held both his life and his Kingdome of him. But seeing that he used him in this manner, he would take a course with him, and would translate the govern∣ment from the house of Saul to that of David. * 1.41

The poor Prince held his peace, and durst not an∣swer one word onely to this bold fellow, which was a pitifull thing to see him thus devoured by his own ser∣vant.

The houses of Great ones are very often filled with such servants, who having been honoured with an especiall confidence of their Master in the administrati∣on of their affairs, whether they be their Receivers or Stewards of their families, take upon them authority, and not contenting themselves to govern the goods, en∣ter upon the right of their Lords, leaving them nothing, but a name and shadow of the Power, which is due un∣to them.

Abner grew so hot with anger, that he dispatched * 1.42 his Messengers to David to desire his friendship, and promiseth him to bring the whole Kingdome of Ishbo∣sheth into his hands. David answered, that he was con∣tent to make peace with him, so that he would cause his wife Michol to be restored him, whom they had married to another after his departure, which was rea∣dily agreed to for him, for they took her away from the hands of her husband that followed her weeping; this woman with her lofty spirit had some pleasing be∣haviour, wherewith Davids affection was taken.

In the mean while Abner powerfully sollicits the people of Israel to betake themselves on Davids side, shewing them that God had committed their safety and rest into his hands, and that it was he which should unite together all the families under his obedience, for to compose a Monarchy, which should become happy to his people, helpfull to his friends, and terrible to his enemies. This discourse did very much shake the prin∣cipall ones of the Nation, which were not ignorant of the small hopes that were in the person of Ishbosheth, which was disparaged both by nature and fortune. This stout Captain following the businesse, came to meet with David in Hebron, who made him a feast, hearken∣ed unto his propositions, and conducted him back with honour.

Joab who was at that time absent, at his return quickly understood of the coming of Abner, whereat * 1.43 he entred into a furious jealousie, fearing lest David should be of the humour of those, which delight more in making of friends, then keeping of those that are made, and that the friendship of a man which seemed to draw a whole Kingdome after him, might much pre∣judice his fortunes. He enters roughly into his Kings chamber, telling him that this was but a deceiver, which came but to spy out his secrets, and to do him some ill turn, that he should lay hold of him, seeing he was come under his power. And for that David answered him nothing, seeing him in a hot anger, he went out fu∣riously, and without authority sent a message to the chief Captain Abner, to intreat him to return to He∣bron, under colour of treating more fully with David. * 1.44 He lightly believed it, and came back the same way, when as Joab that lay in wait for him, took him trea∣sonably and killed him at the gate of the city.

David was indeed very much perplexed hereat, and * 1.45 uttered grievous curses against Joab, and his whole race: neverthelesse, as the wisest did judge, that there was a great interest in this death, and that his chief Captain had become the executour thereof, this made some to think, that there was some design, and though that suspicion was false, David did all that he could to deface the blemish thereof, assisting at the funeralls of Abner, very near to the corps, protesting against the cruelty of those that had taken his life from him, and highly set∣ting forth the praises of the dead: yet he caused not processe to be made against Joab, conceiving that he was not able to destroy him, in such a time, when it was dangerous to provoke him. Neverthelesse, he kept the resolution to punish him even to his death, but Joab contemned all upon the confidence that he had that none could go beyond him, and measured his own greatnesse by the impunity of his great offences.

It is hard to excuse David upon this treaty that he * 1.46 projected with Abner, traytour to his Master, if one have not recourse to the secret and over-ruling will of God, or to the right that he pretended to have to the Crown, in consideration of his first anointment made by Samuel. He knew that the Edicts of his royall di∣gnity were written in heaven, and for this cause, with∣out endeavouring by any criminall way, he expected the work of Providence, and applyed himself to the events, for without any thought of his, Ishbosheth King of Israel was slain by two murtherers Rechab and Ba∣ana, which killd him as he slept upon his bed at noon∣day, and brought his head to him, at which this great King was so highly incensed, abhorring this barbarous act, that he condemned them presently to death, and after he had caused their heads and feet to be cut off, he made them to be hanged at the fish-pond of Hebron. * 1.47

The death of Ishbosheth the son of Saul, ended the difference which was between the two Royall houses, and the other families yielded themselves to David, by an universall consentment. It was then that he began to reign absolutely, and to make to appear, as in a glorious light, the admirable qualities, and Royall virtues, wherewith he was adorned. And it is certain, that of all the Kings of Juda, there was none hath equalled him in all kind of perfections. He was one that feared God without superstition, religious without hypocri∣sie, valiant without any sternnesse, liberall without re∣proching it to any one, a good husband without cove∣tousnesse, * 1.48 stout without insolency, vigilant without un∣quietnesse, wise without subtilty, courteous without loosnesse, humble without cowardlinesse, chearfull with∣out too much familiarity, grave without fiercenesse, and kind without any complements.

He united all those things together which ordinari∣ly * 1.49 make Princes great, and proved in each of them so advantageous, as if he had been endowed with that onely quality. Above all, he shewed himself all his life very zealous for religion, and wonderfully affected towards divine things. He removeth the Ark of the Covenant with great and stately Ceremonies, he pre∣pared infinite treasure to build the House of God, he composeth Hymns for his people, which have astoni∣shed all ages, and which serve for perpetuall springs of devotion in the Church. He ordained the Quyres of Musick and singers, which have prescribed the law of prayses in consort for all Nations. He perfectly ho∣noured the Prophets and Priests, mainteining a very great intelligence with and amongst them.

All these exercises no wayes diminished in him a∣ctions * 1.50 of valour, he overthrew the Philistims in two great battels: he made war on every side; in the East against the Moabites and Ammonites; in the West a∣gainst the Phoenicians; on the South against the Ama∣lekites, the Arabians, and Idumeans; in the North a∣gainst the Syrians, the Sabeans and Mesopotamians, and was happy in all his enterprises. Besides this he made leagues with the Kings his neighbours for the be∣nefit of commerce; gaining them all either by friendship or subduing them by force.

He rendred Justice exactly to his Subjects, he fa∣voured * 1.51 Arts, he enriched and fortified the Towns, he made himself flately Palaces, and drew the Kingdome of Juda out of servility, which had not yet known what magnificence was, he was honoured by the great ones, beloved by the Priests, admired by the wisest, and as it were adored by all his people.

But as all light in mortall things hath its shadow; * 1.52 God suffred him to fall into a great offence, which ser∣ved to humble him, and caused very much trouble in his house. His mind being loosed from the cares of war, and businesses, had too much inclination to the flesh,

more then it used. He was sleeping upon his bed, and * 1.53 being awaked in the afternoon, he walked on the top of his house upon the covering made in platform, and delighted in the fair prospects that he had from his Pa∣lace, from whence he descried a woman that bathed her self in her garden, he enquired of her name, her kin∣dred, and her qualities, and became in love thereby, sends for her to his house, and had company with her.

How dear did this unhappy cast of his eye cost him! and, how many damned are there, that shall one day bewail with eyes of fire the concupiscence of their flesh∣ly eyes! This Fountain where Bathsheba washt her self ran with flames and poyson, which entring by the senses of a Prophet empoysoned his heart, blinded his reason, infected his thoughts, and overthrew his whole soul. This Creature was neither Bear, nor Lyon, nor Goliah, nor Philistim, and yet she overthrew in a mo∣ment, him that made but a sport of Bears, which con∣quered Lyons, subdued Goliahs, and marched over the heads of Philistims. All conspired unto the mishap of poore David, the season, the hour, the sleep, the so∣litarinesse, the prospect, the object, a woman very fair, and smoothly composed: for it seemed that this unlucky one did lye in ambush, and made it her glo∣ry to triumph over a Saint, and one of the valiantest men that was at that time upon the earth. Perhaps she would onely have given an occasion of love, but not have taken; had she been like the Sun, that scor∣ches all here below, and yet remains untoucht in the midst of his flames. When one doth more then he ought in this blind passion, he goes further then he thought.

It is a great temptation to a woman to be beloved of a King. Cleophis by this means gained a Kingdome * 1.54 in a night. Bathsheba looked more upon the great∣nesse, then the pleasure. When love and ambition blow at the same time in the head of a woman, she hath two great Devils to fight with. She might honestly have refused this visit, she might have deferred it, have gain∣ed time, and turned aside the occasion. There is no need sometimes but of a spiders web, to beat back the darts of love, that at other times the Ramparts of Semyramis are not strong enough against it. But she was ready to sell, and to yield, that had already laid aside her honour, with her attire. She failed not spee∣dily to send news to David that she had conceived, and that her husband having not seen her, might very easily conceive that that was none of his doing.

The honour of this lost creature must now have a * 1.55 cover: the King sends for her husband, under some other pretence, he comes from the Army, he is very kindly enterteined, they are earnest with him to go take his ease at his house, and to go to see his wife: But the good man refuseth it, saying that it was not fit∣ting for him to lye in a bed, when the Ark of God, and his Captain Joab were under Tents. He lyes up∣on the ground before the door of Davids chamber, and so passeth the night, having no other desire then to re∣turn speedily to the army.

Alas poor Ʋriah! a harmlesse sacrifice, thou wast * 1.56 but too faithful to faithlessnesse, and therefore thou must water with thy blood the loves of thy master! Da∣vid takes the pen, and love dictates to him a bloody letter, by which he sends to Joab, that he should place Ʋriah amongst the forlom-hope, that they might so fairly be rid of him, for such was his pleasure. Ʋriah carrieth this deadly packet, Joab without enquiring any further, obeys, the innocent is massacred, and the false liberty of these two lovers thinks it is now in surety enough. David remains nine moneths covered with this filth, and this blood, without coming to the knowledge of himself, untill that Nathan takes away the veil that thus blinded him.

Truth is one of the excellentest commodities that is * 1.57 in all nature, but the carryage thereof costs dear, which makes that many will not take it up to bear, especially when there is any question about carrying it into a Kings Palace: one saith that it is not yet time; another, that it will not be usefull; others, that it is of no great force obliging. One will daub over businesses, another seems to make a conscience, one studies for reasons, where little is to be found, for to please the humours of great ones, but there is danger, that those that would preserve themselves by fair-speaking, do not ruine themselves by flattery.

The Prophet Nathan sheweth himself courageous in this point, for although he was not ignorant, that it was a thing dangerous enough to speak freely to a King, and to a lover, of that which he least did love to hear: yet he resolved to shew David his sin, and took a very right course therein, preventing him with a Parable of a rich man having great store of sheep, that had violently taken one onely Ewe from a poore man, which David finding very strange, judged him worthy to dye.

The other hits him home, and tells him that it was himself, that had caused poor Ʋriah to be slain, after he had taken his Bathsheba from him. He brought to his memory the good things that he had received from the Divine Bountie, even from his infancy, and how by this action he had ill rewarded them, with so great ingratitude. Whereupon he declared to him the mischances that should happen to him, to his house and posterity. David awaking, as it were, out of a dead sleep, acknowledged his sin, with a true humility, and submitted himself to all the chastisements which it would please that great Judge to draw forth for his un∣faithfullnesse.

He entred at that very present into great grief for the * 1.58 fault committed, not so much for the punishment that he should receive therefore, as for the love of his so good master, accounting it the greatest punishment of sinnes, to have offended. He was presently changed in∣to another man, he was no more that amorous David, but a Penitent exceedingly humbled, a heart bleeding, eyes weeping; a sad and disfigured face, a body made thin, sighings redoubled one upon another, joynts pi∣ned away with fastings and austerenesse, a continuall avoiding of all Society, of the light and day which reproched him with his offence, and a fixed love of so∣litarinesse and tears: His Harp hanging up knew no more what songs of Triumphs meant, and was whol∣ly employed in expressing his griefs. This heart dying to all mortall things of the earth, was upon the coasts of the sea of Repentance, which he made to eccho with his groanings, and swell continually with his weep∣ings: whereby he fell into a great sicknesse, and God beginning the punishments of a sinne pardoned, caused the child conceived in adultery to dye, and suffered him not to bring up any young one of Bathsheba, before he had espoused her by lawfull marriage.

A year after, those pittifull Tragedies of his house * 1.59 began, which covered it with horrour, and filled his heart with terrours. Amnon the eldest son of David fell in love with his sister Thamar, a very fair Princesse, and which was of the mothers side as well as of the fa∣thers, of the blood Royall. The more hindrances that he saw in that his love,, both by his quality, and vir∣ginity, and kindred, and the inclination of the maid, the more was his concupiscence enflamed. This kind of passion ordinarily covets that which it should least of all desire, and that which it can least bring to passe. This was a subtle poyson breathed forth by the contagi∣on of the fathers example, which had possessed the brains of this miserable one. His burning lust was▪ His

that which tormented him most. The King his Father goes to see him, to take order for his health. There is but one medicine, saith he, that could heal him, which is, that his sister Thamar, who hath the skill of making excellent broth, may prepare some with her own hand, for to cause him to have an appetite. This is very ready∣ly granted to him. The poor maid which suspected no∣thing is ready to give him content, for the better reco∣very of his person, he causes all others to avoid the place, and prayes her to stay in the chamber for to give him to eat, but without any other counterfeits he takes away the Mask, and declares to her his detestable passion, at which Thamar, who was a Maid of Honour conceived as great horrour as could be, alledging unto him, that this was a deed unheard of amongst the people of God.

But this barbarous one proceeded on to force her, and deflowred her body, without getting the con∣sent of her minde. The passion was no sooner eva∣porated, but that he entred into as furious a repen∣tance, not enduring to behold her with his eyes, which caused him to remember his heinous crime. He drives her out of his house with reproch, where she would have left her life with her honour: her mourning attire, and head covered with ashes, testified the fune∣rall of her virginity.

At last she cast her self under the protection of her brother Absolon, who was born of the same mother, and rehearsed to him the disastre that had happened unto her. Her brother comforts her, and injoyns her silence, having in the mean while no vein in his body that did not swell to revenge this dis∣honour. The report thereof came to the knowledge of the father, who remembring his own offence, durst not censure that of his sonne, besides that he lo∣ved him with too tender an indulgency, and feared to grieve him, the which made him seem to wink at all that had passed, wherein he cannot be excused from having committed a great fault, which proceeded from a vicious mildnesse.

Absolon seeing that David said nothing, continued in great dissimulation, never complaining of Amnon, but resolved to do himself justice with his own hands. And having kept two years his design fast lock'd up in his breast, to avoid all suspition thereof, he pre∣pares a Royall Feast, to which he invites the King his Father, and all his brethren: David excuses him∣self, and the other earnestly entreats that his eldest bro∣ther Amnon, might supply his place, unto which the father consents.

The brethren enter joyfully into the Hall where the Banquet was, where the Furies had prepared a bloody spectacle, and horrible sacrifice. Absolon gives the word to his servants to take the time, where∣in his brother Amnon had already drank plentiful∣ly, and to kill him in the middle of the Feast, with∣out any fail, saying that it was sufficient, that it was he which had so appointed it, and that he would provide for their safety. The Wine, the good Chear, and heat, did let loose their tongues to mer∣ryment, when as Swords drawn out of the Scab∣berds glittered before the eyes of the Guests: fear came upon all, but the danger was onely to Am∣non, who was suddenly massacred, his blood leaping on his brothers table for a just revenge of his shame∣full lust.

The brethren affrighted get up upon their Mules, and get to the Town, the report mixing false with true, brings sad news to David, and gives him to under∣stand that Absolon had slain all his brethren. The poor King casts himself on his face upon the ground weeping, and all the Court tear their clothes, and put on mourning. Jonadab in the mean while certi∣fies, that there was none but Amnon that remained up∣on the place, in revenge of the offence committed a∣gainst Thamar. David returns a little to himself, and his other children present themselves before him, af∣frighted and weeping for that which had passed. Ab∣solon * 1.60 saves himself in the house of his Grand-father by the mother the King of Gesher, where he remains three years, without daring to see the King his father, who would no wayes pardon that his enterprize.

Joab labours very advisedly to reconcile the son to * 1.61 the father, by the mediation of a very discreet woman of Tecoah, which came with a counterfeit pretence, and complained to the King, that she being mother of two sons, the one in a hot quarrel had slain his brother, and that they would constrain her to deliver up the o∣ther to justice, that processe might be maid against him, to the end to extinguish all her race. And therefore she entreated his Majesty to be gracious to save her son that remained, and not wholly to deprive her of all comfort in the world. The which David having agreed to, she declared to him, that he ought to practice the same to∣wards his own son, which he would have done for one of his subjects: that we were all mortall and that we passe away here below as the current of a stream, that we should imitate the goodnesse of God, which loves our souls, and would not that they should perish.

As this woman spoke with so much discretion, Da∣vid was in doubt that Joab had instructed her, and made her under-hand to act this fine play, the which she affirmed, and so much gained the heart of David, that he gave full permission to Joab, to fetch back the banished to his house, although it was for the space of two years without seeing him. Absolon grew so melan∣cholick, by his being so far from the court, without see∣ing the king his father, that having oftentimes sent to Joab to put an end to his businesse, seeing that he would not come to him for friendship, he caused his corn to be set on fire, to make him come for anger, for the which he excused himself, and entreated him to ask of David in his behalf, either that he might dye, or that he might have leave to see him.

This good father could no longer dissemble the mo∣vings * 1.62 of nature, but having sent for him, he embraced him, and gave the kisse of peace, and re-establishes him in the court. The spirit of this Prince was lofty, tem∣pestuous, movable, which could not contain it self any longer within the bounds of obedience. For the space of the five years of his removall from the court he had lei∣sure enough to bite the bridle, and as it is credible, he had projected already the design of reigning, his am∣bition seemed to him sufficiently well founded: Amnon his eldest brother was dead, Celeab the son of Abigail the second of his brethren made no great noise, he saw himself underpropt on his mothers side, by the King of Gesher his grand-father: This was a Prince well made, upright, pleasing, courteous, liberall, se∣cret, courageous, and capable of great undertake∣ings. He saw his father upon the declining of his age who had lost very much of that vigour testified so many times in his battels. Adonija was too much a fondling, and Solomon yet a childe and not able to * 1.63 oppose him. He conceived that the Empire could not slipp out of his hands: And indeed there was great hopes for him, if he had had so much patience to stay for it, as desire to command.

He made too soon to appear what was in his mind, causing himself to be encompassed when he marched forth with souldiers, and a guard, which was a sign of Royalty. Further also he ceased not to gain the hearts, and secretly to get the good will of all his

fathers subjects. He was up betimes in the morning, and set himself at the entrance of the Palace to take * 1.64 notice of all those that had any businesse to propound to the King. One never saw Prince more prodigall in courtesies, he call'd them to him, he embraced them, he kissed them, he enquired of their countrey, of their condition, of their suit, and of that their negotiation. He did justice to all the world, and said that there was no other mishap, but that the King was old and tyred with businesses, and had not a man to hear the complaints of his subjects, and to render them justice, and that if one day he had the charge which his birth deserved, he would give full satisfaction to eve∣ry one.

By this meanes he made himself conquerour of hearts, and traced out great intelligence throughout the Provinces, guiding himself by the counsels of A∣chitophel, who was the most refined spirit, the best dissembler, and most pernicious that was in the whole Kingdome: David did not sufficiently watch over the actions of his sonne, and the secret work∣ings of this evil Counsellour, the evil increased, and their party was already framed, Absolon asketh leave of the King his father to go to Hebron under pretence of performing a vow, but with an intent to proclaim himself King. That which he desired was granted to him, he marches under this coverture with a train and splendour, carrying many people with him, and Sacrifices to offer. He gives order in the mean while to all his confederates, that at the first sound of the Trumpet, they should march forth into the field to go to meet him, and to bring him all the Troops that they could gather together.

All this was readily performed, and without further * 1.65 dissimulation he declared himself, and caused himself to be crowned in Hebron: the news came quickly to David, which brought him word that his son Abso∣lon was revolted against him, and had got possession of Hebron, and that all the forces of the Kingdome run to him.

Here one may see a great example of the judgement * 1.66 of God, of the weaknesse of a man left to himself, as also, the beams of an high and profound humility. To speak according to man, all that David did in this encounter of affairs, was low and feeble. He might have taken the field with the Regiments which he had, which amounted at least to six or seven thou∣sand men, and have unwoven this web of conspiracy, at its springing forth. And if he had not perceived himself strong enough, he had sufficient means to main∣tein himself in Jerusalem, to entrench and fortifie him∣self there, and to tyre out those spirits of his Rebels. He might have enterteined him with good hopes, pro∣mises, and treaties, and have cooled this first heat, by rallying by little and little the affections of his subjects to his own party. And if he had conceived his affairs to be in ill plight, he should have been the last that had taken notice of it, after the manner of those great Captains which carry hope in their faces, even then when they have despair in their heart, to keep together their Troopes in their duty.

But this poor Prince at the newes of this rebellion, talked of nothing but flying, and leaving his chief Ci∣ty, and saving himself in the by-paths of the wilder∣nesses: he is the first that goes forth without a horse to ride on, on his bare feet, his head uncovered, with tears in his eyes, affrighting all the world, and left ten Con∣cubines to keep his palace, which was very ill advice according to the world, for what could these women do being forsaken by men, and strength, but onely to prostitute themselves to the souldiers, and yield up all the honour they had left, as a prey to them?

Further also he sent back the Ark of the Covenant * 1.67 which Zadock and Abiathar had brought into his camp, which might have put very much courage into his army, and obliged it to defend a thing so honoura∣ble and so precious to this nation. Whence do we think then that this ordering himself, in a king, to whom nei∣ther valour was wanting, nor wisdome, nor experience, but onely that he saw clearly that this calamity was an ordinance of God, which had been foretold by the Pro∣phet Nathan? and in pursuit whereof, this virtuous Prince had no other thought then to suffer the work of providence, and to submit his whole heart, in the full ex∣tention thereof, to the chastisement of his judge, and to kisse the rods which beat him. He marched like a Pe∣nitent and not like a Captain, he adored the judgments of God upon him, he enlarged his pains going a foot, and that bare-foot, to exalt the justice of his sovereign Master: He esteemed himself unworthy to look upon the Ark of the Covenant, and used himself with all kind of rigour, to honour the design of Heaven for his abasement. This is the cause that he endured all, and complains of nothing, bearing with a deep patience, the enraged tongue of Shemei, who seeing him in this estate, * 1.68 in which the most barbarous would have pitied him, persecuted him with bloody injuries, and went about to have stoned him: Abishai offred himself to have cut him in pieces at the present, but David sharply re∣proved him for it, and would that they should suffer him to exercise his rage at his pleasure, not being igno∣rant that all which happened to him was design'd from above. He contented himself with saying, If God will be mercifull to me, he will call me back, and make me to see again his Ark and his Tabernacle; But if he cause me to know that I am not sitting any more to please him, nor to serve in the estate of a King, I am ready to obey all his pleasure, seeing it belongs to him to do whatsoever he will with me. These words alone were * 1.69 more worth then all crowns, and brought him again in∣to the favour of God, by bearing that his affliction with so great humility.

In the mean while Absolon entered into Jerusalem * 1.70 without resistance, with his pestilent Councell of State, Achitophel, which, the surer to engage him in the war, and an irreconcileable hatred against his father, gave him most detestable counsell, and which could not have been inspired but from the blackest of the bottomlesse pits; he perswades him to abuse all the concubines that his father had left in the palace, the which this disloyall son would execute, most erroneously, causing a pavilli∣on to be set up in the sight of all the people, and going publickly thereinto to accomplish all his incests. Behold the politick wisdome of this mischievous servant, whom they esteemed as a god in counsels; who is there that saw not that this action, besides that it drew upon Absolon the wrath and vengeance of God, made him odious and abominable to all his people, and to all those which had any feeling of Religion or publick honesty?

After he had begun so villanously, he assembled his * 1.71 counsell, for to give order for the affairs of the warre. Achitophel counselled him to take twelve thousand men of the best exercised, to pursue his father the same night, and to take him in that disorder and wearinesse, and to make him away, assuring him, that if that one man alone were down, all the kingdome would be for him. In this private councell there was by good chance one wise man named Chushi a secret friend of David, and his confident, which was come to joyn himself in appearance to Absolons party, closely to countrepoise the counsells and authority of Achitophel. He saw well that if God had permitted the execution of this first ad∣vice, that David had been lost without any recovery: this was the reason, that after he had insinuated him∣self

into the heart and friendship of Absolon, testify∣ing that from henceforth he would serve him with the same fidelity that he had done to his predecessour; he declared unto him, That they should do nothing hastily, for, that his father was an old Captain which knew all pollicy in warre, and that he had still in his Army men full of counsell and valour, that he should not rouse up the Bear in her wood after he had robbed her of her young ones, and that despair is a valiant piece in warre, that it stood not with his honour to give battell, unlesse he were assured of the victory, for that, If at his first encountre he should have the worst, yet disadvantage would be of dangerous con∣sequence, able to abate the courages, and put the whole Army to a rout. But if he would stay a∣while, the people would gather together about him in a great number, as the sand on the Sea-shore, and that he being in the midst of so mighty an Army might overthrow the Cedars, and pull up Towns by the roots, without any body being able to resist him.

This Counsell was rellished and preferred before the first, whereat Achitophel ent••ed into such a rage, that he suddenly went forth of the chamber, and retired himself to his house, where, after he had disposed of the estate of his family-affairs, he took unto himself an unlucky cord and strangled himself, by the most manifest justice of God.

After which, Absolon seeing himself sufficiently well accompanied, passes over Jordan, takes Ama∣sa for his chief Captain, and intends to give bat∣tel to his father. David which had had a little lea∣sure to recollect and fortifie himself, takes courage again, divides his Army into three parts, names Lieutenants and Captains, and appoints three for Chief, Joab, Abishai, and Ittai. He would also have been himself in the encountre, but his Counsell beseeched him to retire, which he did after he had en∣couraged his people to do their duty well: but above all, that in case they should gain the Victory, that they should guard his son Absolon without doing him any hurt.

This being done; the Trumpets sound, and the * 1.72 Armies approch, Davids people enter into the field of the Battel, as Lyons, their Masters good cause gave them such confidence. It seemed that the victory that day had taken a pledge to follow their Co∣lours, and that it was enough if they did but shew themselves to conquer. The Rebels tormented with the affrightments of their conscience, and which had not such entertainment as they were promised, first were put into disorder, after to flight, and then to a rout. It seemed that on the one part, there were men that came to kill, and on the other, sheep that came to be slain. As soon as they were mingled the one amongst the other; the sword on the one side made great Massacres, on the other, the falls and tum∣blings headlong carried them away, in such man∣ner, that there remained twenty thousand upon the place.

Absolon taken with a great astonishment, is left by all the world, and betaking himself to flight, gets * 1.73 up upon a Mule. It hapned that passing through a Forrest, his head was catched, and wreathed within the branches of a Tree, insomuch that his carryer ha∣ving left him, he remained hanging between heaven and earth, where he made a very fitting amends both to the justice of God, and the goodnesse of his Fa∣ther: Joab had notice thereof, who neverthelesse although David had forbidden it, stroke him through with three Darts, and when as yet he seemed to have life, ten young souldiers of the Troups of Jo∣ab ran to make an end of him; he feared so much that if he should return into favour and authority, lest he should take vengeance upon him, because he would not follow his party. The body was inter∣red in a pit under a great heap of stones, for to con∣vince the vanity of him which had caused a stately monument to be built for himself, which he called Absolons hand. Behold an horrible end of an evil sonne and a rebellious subject, which is sufficient to make posterity afraid throughout the revolution of all ages.

While all this was doing, David inclosed in a little Town, expected the event of the battell, and when as the Posts brought him the news of the Vi∣ctory, he shewed not so much rejoycing as fear: asking every moment, in what estate his sonne Ab∣solon was, which caused that divers durst not bring him the news of his death, seeing the trouble of his mind. At last Cushi uttered the word, and said, That they should desire Absolon's end to all the Kings enemies. He understood well what he would say, and was pierced with so violent a grief, that he could not be comforted, losing all courage, and crying every moment, Absolon my sonne, my sonne Absolon, Oh that this favour had been done for me, that I might have dyed for thee! Every one cast down his eyes for pitty, and the whole victory was turned into sorrow, the Palms and Laurels were changed in∣to Cypresse.

Joab alwayes bold and insolent towards his Ma∣ster, * 1.74 instead of receiving reproches for his fault, casts them upon David, and thinks that the means to justifie himself, was to speak the more stoutly. He enters into the Chamber of his King, and re∣proves him sharply, saying to him That he would put to confusion all his good servants that had that day saved his life, his house, and all his estate: That he was of a strange nature, and seemed to have been made for nothing but to hate those that loved him, and to love those that hated him: That it was very clear, that he bore no good affection to his Captains, and good Souldiers, and if they all had perished to save the life of one rebellious sonne, he would have been very well satisfied. Further, he swore to him by the living God, that if he did not rise and go forth to see and entertein those that re∣turned from the battell, that there should not re∣main one man onely with him before the morning, which would prove a greater displeasure to him, then ever he received in all his life. He pressed him so vehemently, that the King without daring to an∣swer him one word, rose up, and did all that he would have him.

This great grief diminished by little and little, and the rejoycings of those that came on every side to car∣ry him back to Jerusalem in Triumph gave him no leasure to think upon his losse. He endeavoured to draw to him again all those that had separated them∣selves, pardoning all the world with an unspeakable meeknesse, being ready even to give Joabs place to * 1.75 Amasa that was chief Captain for Absolon.

But Joab quickly hindred this, and kild with his own hand him that they had purposed for his suc∣cessour. After that he began to pursue one Sheba a Captain of the Rebels, who was retyred into Abe∣la, with some remainder of the mutinous, and as he was about to besiege it, and destroy the City for to take him, a woman, of discretion and great in credit amongst her people, which had made composition with Joab, caused him to be slain, and threw his head over the walls, to put an end to this whole bloodie warre.

After this re-establishment of his Estate, Da∣vid * 1.76 reigned about eleven years in full peace in con∣tinuall exercises of Piety, of Devotion, of Justice, and caused a generall Assembly of the States of his Realme, where he made his sonne Solomon which he had chosen to be confirmed, and encouraged him to build that great Temple, which should be the marvell of the World, whereof he shewed him the plat-form, the beautifying and the orders, in the Idea.

Two things do a little astonish those which do seek an exact sanctity in this Prince: the first, that he dyed having unto the last hour a maid of rare beauty by him; and the other, that he recommended to his son Solomon punishments and deaths by his Testament.

But there are that answer to those that may be of∣fended with these actions: That God hath permitted this to make us the better to relish and admire the perfections of his Evangelicall law, whereof the Word Incarnate was made the Law-giver, and brin∣get, above all the excellencies of the presents and vir∣tues of the Mosaicall law. And that one ought not to expect from David the chastity of a Saint Lewis, nor of a Casimire, but that one ought to measure things according to the manner of the time, ac∣cording to the law and custome. Neverthelesse I should rather say, that the plurality of women was not an offence, seeing that it was approved of God, so that it caused not a weakning of the vigour of the spirits, and mortifying their divine functions by too much commerce with the flesh. David sinned not in causing the Shunamite to lye besides him, seeing that she was in the place of a spouse, and approched unto him not for the pleasure which his great age had total∣ly extinguished, but for the entertainment of his Roy∣all person. Lastly, there are other actions that do set forth his virtue, besides this which is more worthy of ex∣cuse then blame.

And forasmuch as he ordained by his testament, the death of Joab and of Shimei, this doth something trouble those spirits which have an inclination to mild∣nesse; they say that Joab was his kinsman, his faithfull servant, the best of his Captains, the chief Comman∣der that had followed him from his youth, accompa∣nied him through infinite dangers, and upheld the Crown a thousand times shaking upon his head. He never medled in the factions that were raised against the King, he was alwayes the first that dissipated them by the vigour of his spirit, resolution, counsell, of his Arms, and of his Sword. If he slew Ab∣ner, it was in revenge of his Brother which the other had slain. If he stabbed Amasa, it was the chief Captain of the Rebell Absolon, whom they would have put in his place, for to lay then great faults of the State upon him. If he spoke freely to David, it was alwayes for his good, and for his glory; in the mean time at his Death he recommended him to be punished, after that in effect he had pardoned him all his life.

But to all this I say, that the last actions of so great a King, are more worthy of honour then cen∣sure. The punishment of Joab proceeded, not from a Passion, but from a Justice inspired by God, which would satisfie the voyce of blood, the which cryed still against the murders committed by this Ca∣ptain. Further also there was a secret of State, as saith Theodoret, which is, that this Joab shewed him∣self against the re-election of Solomon, and was ready to trouble the peace of the Realm.

And as concerning Shimei to whom he had sworn that he would not cause him to dye, he kept his pro∣mise to him faithfully, abstaining from doing him any evil while he lived, although he was in abso∣lute power for to hurt him, but as his oath was per∣sonall, he would not extend it upon his sonne, and tye his hands, contenting himself to recommend un∣to him that he should do justice, according as his wisedome and discretion should direct him. It is ve∣ry fitting that we should think highly of this Pro∣phet, and that we should rather search out the rea∣son of many of his actions, from the secret inspi∣ration of God, then from the weaknesse of humane judgement.

He lived near upon three-score and twelve years, reigned fourty, and dyed a thousand and thirty two years before the birth of our Saviour, leaving infi∣nite treasures for the building of the Temple, and eternall monuments of his devotion and understand∣ing. It was a speciall favour to him, that the Sa∣viour would be born of his bloud, and that his birth was revealed to him so many dayes before it was known to the world; He hath often set it down upon the title of his Psalmes, and was in an extasie, in this contemplation, by the fore-taste of that his hap∣pinesse. Men are accustomed to take their nobility, and their names from their Ancestours that go before them. But David drew it from a Son which is the Father of Glory, and Authour of Eternity. The industrious hands of men have taken pains in vain, to carve him out a Tomb, Death hath no power over him, seeing that he is the Primogenitour of life. All things are great in his person; but the heighth of all his greatnesse is, that he hath given us a Jesus.

SOLOMON.

SOlomon was he that ordered the holinesse of the Temple and yet he can hardly find place in the Holy Court. The love which gave * 1.77 him the Crown by the means of his mother Bathsheba, hath taken from him his innocency. The Gentiles might have made him one of their Gods, if Women had not made him lesse then a man. His en∣trance into the Throne of his father was bloudy, his Reign peaceable, his Life variable, and his End uncer∣tain. One may observe great weaknesses at the Court at his coming to the Crown, confused designs, despe∣rate hopes, a Prophet upright at the Court, a woman full of invention, an old Courtier overthrown, and little brotherhood where there is dispute of Royalty.

David was upon the fading of his Age, and his Throne looked at by his Children, which expected the dissolution of their father. He had taken the autho∣rity upon him to decide this question by his commands, not willing to be ruled therein by nature, nor to preferre him whom she had first brought into the world, but him which should be appointed by God, and best fit∣ted thereto by his favours. Bathsheba a subtil woman * 1.78 that had carried him away by violence of a great affe∣ction, kept her self in her possession, and had more power over the mind of the King, then all his other associates. Amidst the kindnesses of an affectionate husband, which is not willing to deny any thing to her whom he loves; she drew this promise from David, that he would take her sonne Solomon to be successour in his Estates.

This was a little miracle of Nature in his Infancy, * 1.79 and it seemed that all the Graces had strove together to make a work so curiously polisht. His mother loved him with infinite tendernesse, and his father could not look upon him without amazednesse. He was married at the age of nineteen years; and David before he de∣parted from the world, saw himself multiplied by his son in a second, which was Roboam.

Aristotle hath observed well, that children which are married so young do seldome bring forth great men; and this observation was verified in Roboam, who caused as many confusions in his life, as he had made re∣joycings at his birth. This strengthened Solomon at the beginning in his own and his mothers pretences.

But Adonijah his brother, which immediately fol∣lowed Absolon, was before him in the right of Elder∣ship, and promised himself to have a good part of the Empire.

The example of that unfortunate brother, which had * 1.80 expired his life in the despair of his fortune, was not strong enough for to stay him, which treading (as it were) in the same steps, went on infallibly unto his last mischance. David endured too long for him, and it seems to him that the greatest kindnesses that a rich father could do for his sonne, when he is come to die, is to suffer himself to die.

He had sufficiently well knitted his party together, binding himself closely to the chief Priest Abiathar, and to Joab; It seemed to him, that having on his side the Altars and Arms he was invincible.

But in that burning desire that he had to reign, he * 1.81 committed very great faults which put an end to his life by an event very tragicall. He did not sufficiently consider the power of his father, who governed himself by the orders of them in the disposition of their Roy∣alty, and saw not, that to undertake to succeed him without his good will, was to desire to climb to the top of the house vvithout going up by the stairs. His experi∣ence might have made him vveigh, vvhat the jealousie of an old man may do; vvho desires the more honour and life, the nearer he sees them to their setting. His reason might have taught him to judge, vvhat the arti∣fices vvere of a vvoman beloved, hovv imperious over a husband. He thought of nothing but climbing, vvithout endeavouring to take avvay the hinderances which he had about his feet.

Other wayes also he contented himself to have the favour of some without seeking that of others, which, it may be, had no great desire to set him for∣ward, but were of a reall power to hinder him. There are some which hold themselves offended, because they are not intreated, and which endeavour to hinder a bu∣sinesse without having any other reason, but that they were not employed in it. Adonijah contented himself to have Abiathar and Joab for him, but he considered not that Nathan the Prophet, and Zadok the Priest, and Benaiah the Captain, whom he contemned, were mighty, and able to trouble his pretensions.

Further, for fear lest he should fail in the businesse, he made too much haste of it, taking into his company souldiers, and a guard, in imitation of Absolon. And when as he should have kept himself, retired, and re∣collected within himself, he opened himself too much, and published his designs, which were like to those pearls, that instead of a good substance, had nothing but an outward rind.

He made a great feast, to which he invited all his brethren without speaking of Solomon; he called Abia∣thar and Joab, without making mention of Nathan and Zadok. The one made great chear, and created a King amongst their pots and glasses, whilst that Na∣than and Zadok vented all their secrets, and countre∣mined all their designs.

Amongst these excessive joyes of Adonijah, Na∣than * 1.82 plotted together with Bathsheba, declared to her the news of the pretensions of the imaginary King; exhorted her strongly to oppose him, and shewed her the means thereto. They take their counsels together, with a resolution to make the proceedings of Adonijah to sound aloud in the ears of David. It is agreed that Bathsheba should enter into the chamber of the King first, and that Nathan, without understanding any thing of their conference, should wind in, as it were, upon a sudden, and as it were to strike up the busi∣nesse, when as she already had well proceeded in the discourse.

All this was artificially executed, Bathsheba, with many honied words causeth David to remember his promise, represented to him the enterprise of his sonne Adonijah, and sets forth before him the pitifull hand∣ling that she with her dear son must expect, in case that the design of the Rebel should take effect.

Nathan, an eloquent speaker comes in, as if he were amazed, and without shewing that he bore any affe∣ction to any party, he laid chief hold on the authority and pleasure of the King, which he comes to under∣stand, as the true oracle of the Realm, to conform himself thereto, and without falling into passion against Adonijah, he caused him to send his secret intelligences and carriages, avouching, that if he had undertaken that, without communicating it to him, he makes his proceedings very strange.

This was to interest David in the businesse in such a manner, as he failed not presently to command Na∣than

and Zadok, to set Solomon upon his mule, to cause his guard and his old Regiments to accompany him unto Gibeon, and there without any delay to conse∣crate him King, and to give the people to understand, that he had chosen him for his lawfull successour.

All this was executed with vigorousnesse incredible, * 1.83 when as a woman so ardent had taken it in hand. And while Adonijah was yet drinking with his confidents, the trumpet sounded through the town, with great out∣cryes of joy, and unspeakable clapping of hands. He had thought that all this had been done for him, but Jonathan the son of the high Priest Abiathar put them all beside this belief, and told them with lamentation, together, for their overthrow, what that was which was done, and that Solomon was coming presently to be consecrated.

All their hearts failed upon the news of this chance, and they separated themselves as much as they could from each other, to take away the suspicion of a con∣spiracy, which was but too manifest. Solomon is brought back to the Palace with strong acclamations, and all the officers and servants entring into the cham∣ber of David, gave him a thousand benedictions for the choice that he had made, wishing to the new King all the greatnesse and all the prosperity of his father.

Adonijah saw well that he was gone too farre, and fearing lest Solomon might make the first triall of his power at the cost of his life, he fled unto the ordinary refuge, taking hold of the horns of the Altar, and en∣treating Solomon for his life, who gave it him upon such condition, that he should keep himself within his duty, and would not spot a day so glorious for him by shed∣ding the bloud of his miserable brother. Joab and Abiathar dissembling their intelligence with Adonijah, ran to worship as well as others, him, whom willingly they would have devoured, seeing that their safety con∣sisted at that time in hiding their intention.

But after that David had his eyes closed up, and * 1.84 that Solomon saw himself confirmed by the generall consentment of all orders; those waves of the Court, which as yet had made but little frizlings, began to raise a great tempest.

Adonijah after he had lost a Kingdome, endea∣voured * 1.85 to get a woman, and goes directly to Bathsheba the Queen-mother, to uphold his request. She was not unwilling to see him, fearing that he had still re∣tained some bitternesse in his heart, upon the things that had passed: behold wherefore, she presently asked him whether he came as a friend; to which he answer∣ed, that all was quiet, but that he had one request to make to her, knowing well the credit in which she was with the King her son. The Queen having shewed him a good countenance, and a free willingnesse to serve him, he opens the matter to her, and saith, That she was not ignorant that the Kingdome did appertain to him by the right of Eldership, but seeing that God had otherwise disposed of it, that he did willingly acquiesce, and desired nothing of the King, but that it would please his Majesty, to give him Abishag in marri∣age, that maid which served David his father in his old age.

It is clear that this Prince was good, and of an easie nature, that could content himself with so small a thing, and his request was not uncivil, seeing that she was but a servant, and never the wife of his father, which had no other commerce with her, then to receive the service and assistance necessary for his health.

Bathsheba was very glad that his ambition did here bound it self, and promised to speak to the King there∣of very willingly, which she did, going expresly to vi∣sit him. Solomon went forth to meet her, made her very great reverence, received her with most courteous entertainment, and having ascended his Throne, he caused another to be set at his right hand for his mother, which said to him, That she came to make a very little request unto him, upon which it would be a displeasure to her to receive any deniall.

The son assured her, and said, That she might bold∣ly demand, and that he was no wayes intended to give her any discontent. As soon as she had opened the businesse, and named Abishag's name, Solomon entred * 1.86 into great anger, and said, she might have added there∣to the Kingdome, seeing that he was his eldest brother, and that he had Joab and Abiathar on his side; and without giving any other answer, he swore, that he would make Adonijah die before it was night: where∣upon, presently he gave order to Benaiah, who supplied the office of Captain of the Guard, which failed not to slay this young Prince.

Those that think that Solomon might do this in con∣science, * 1.87 and that one may conjecture that God had re∣vealed it unto him, take very small reasons to excuse great crimes, and see not that whosoever would have recourse to imaginary Revelations, might justifie all the most wicked actions of Princes. There is not one word alone in the Scripture, that witnesses, that after the establishment of Solomon, this poor Prince did make the least trouble in the State, he acknowledged Solomon for King, he lived peaceable, he was contented with the order that God permitted: for the comfort of the losse of a Kingdome, which according to the Law of Nations did belong to him, he desired but a maid servant in marriage, and he is put to death for it.

Who could excuse this? I am of opinion of the * 1.88 Dr Cajetan, who saith, that this command was not onely severe, but unjust; and I believe that hence came the misfortune of Solomon, for that having shewed himself so little courteous towards his mother, and so cruel towards his brother, for the love of a woman; God to punish him, hath suffered, that he should be lost by all that which he loved most. After this murder, he sent for Abiathar the chief Priest, and gave * 1.89 him to understand, that he was worthy to die, but for∣asmuch as he had carried the Ark of the living God, and had done infinite services for the King his father, even from his youth, he gave him his life, upon such condition, that he should be deprived of the dignity of the high Priest, and should retire himself to his house. The Scripture saith, that this was to fulfill the word of the Lord, which had been pronounced against the house of Eli; but yet it follows not for all that, that this depriving was very just on Solomon's side, being done without mature consideration. And although God ordains sometimes temporall afflictions upon chil∣dren for the punishment of the fathers, yet one cannot neverthelesse inferre from this, that those which torment and persecute them, without any other reason then their own satisfaction, should not any wayes be faulty; for otherwise one might avouch, that the death of our Lord having come to passe by the ordinance of God, Pilate and Caiaphas that did co-operate unto this order with∣out any knowledge thereof, should be without offence. As for those that think that the Levites were accusers in those proceedings, it is a conjecture of their own invention; and if indeed it were so, one might yet fur∣ther reason, by what Law could the Levites bring ac∣cusation against their chief Priest? This jealousie of Government is a marvellous beast, and those that would excuse it, find, for the most part, that there is no stronger reasons, then swords, and prisons, and banishments.

In the mean time the news comes to Joab, that he

was in great danger for having followed the party of Adonijah, and as he saw himself on the sudden forsa∣ken, and faln from the great credit that he had in the Militia, he had recourse to the Tabernacle, which was the common refuge, and taking hold of the Altar, he asked mercy and his life. Banaiah the executour of the murder, goes to him, by Solomons order, and com∣mands him to come forth, for which he excuses himself, protesting that he would rather die then forsake his re∣fuge, which was related to King Solomon, who without regard to the holy place, caused him to be massacred * 1.90 at the foot of the Altar, to mingle his bloud with that of the sacrifices. Behold what he got from the Court after fourty years services, and one may affirm, that if it had been sometimes a good mother to him, now it acted a cruel step-mother at the last period of his life.

There remained no more but Shimei to make up the last Act of the Tragedy, and although David had given commandment for his death, Solomon seemed yet to make some scruple upon the promise of impu∣nity that was made to him: and this was the cause that he appointed him the city of Jerusalem for a prison, with threatning, that if he should go forth thence, and onely go over the brook of Cedron, he would put him to death. The other that expected nothing but a blou∣dy death, willingly received the condition, and kept it three years, until the time that on a day having received news of his servants that were fled to the Philistims, it came into his mind to follow them, without taking heed to that which was commanded him, which caused, that at his return, he was murdered by the command∣ment of Solomon, by the hand of Benaiah.

Behold the beginning of a reign tempestuous, and one must not think to find Saints so easily at the Court, especially in those which have liberty to do what they please; many things slip from them, which may better be justified by repentance, then by any other apology. That which follows in this history of Solomon is all peaceable and pleasing, even unto his fall, which may give cause of affrightment.

The third year of his reign, he had an admirable Dream, after the manner of those that are called Ora∣cles * 1.91: It seemed to him that God appeared to him, and spoke to him: at the which he was in an extasie, and see∣ing himself so near to him that could do all, he desired of him with incredible ardency, the gift of Wisdome to govern his people; the which pleased so much the Sovereign Majesty, that not onely he gave him a very great understanding above all the men of the world, but further also added thereto, Riches and Glory in so high an eminence, that none should equall him.

There are those that dispute here, though beyond their sight, concerning the Learning of Solomon, and would * 1.92 prove that he composed Comedies and Satyrs; but although we cannot deny that he was filled with abun∣dance of Learning, yet we must affirm, that his Poli∣ticall Science had the chiefest place, and that all his knowledge of Naturall things tended but to that in∣tent, seeing that he specified it in his Prayer, that the desire of Wisdome that he professed was onely for the Government of his Kingdome.

And hence we may gather, that Learning is an In∣strument very necessary for the accomplishment of * 1.93 great Princes, although that the ignorant may conceive otherwise. They say, that this makes them too lofty, curious, and self-conceited, and that hence they take the boldnesse to rest upon their own belief, and deifie all their opinions; a great Authority being sufficiently able to raise up a little sufficiency. They bring the examples of Nero, and Julian the Apostate, both which, having so well studied, they governed ill, and came to an unhap∣py end.

But I shall avouch to them, that knowledge and judgement without piety is an unprofitable commo∣dity, and sometimes pernicious to Kings. Hence it is that they take occasion to move extravagant questions, to undertake dangerous businesses, to authorize their faults by apparent reasons, and to be pricked forward with a conceit which causes them to despise all counsels. Neverthelesse, it is an insupportable abuse to blame * 1.94 good things in those, which either have but the counter∣feit thereof, or which make an evil use of them. I esteem not Nero nor Julian to have been very learned men, because they had skill in Poetry and Rhetorick, without ever well attaining the knowledge of their prin∣cipall profession: and if they having learned good precepts among humane Writers, have abused them, shall one say for that, that they are naught and dange∣rous for a Prince?

By the same reason we might condemne the Sunne, because that Phaeton burnt himself in those heats: And take away the Water from amongst the Elements, because that Aristotle, as they say, was drowned therein.

Lastly, we might bring an accusation against Na∣ture in generall, and so find nothing to be good of all that God made, because it may be corrupted by the wickednesse of men. But for two or three Princes somwhat learned, which have used their skill evilly, how many ignorant ones shall we find which have done farre more cruel and barbarous things then these: as, Dioclesian, Licinius, Maximian, Bajazet, and Sclim?

Nature hath placed all the Senses, which are the principles of our Knowledge, in the Head, to give us to understand, that all the lights ought to be in a Prince, which is the Head of his Realm. The Soul is not more necessary for the Body, then Understanding for a King. He is (as Philo reports) to his people, that which God is to the creature.

And what doth God, but onely shed forth his clear∣nesse throughout the whole world, visible and invisible? and what ought a Monarch to do, but to make himself the fountain of good counsels that should maintain his estate?

What can a Prince do which sees not but with others eyes; which speaks not, but by the mouth of another; which hears not, but with borrowed ears; but onely lose his estimation in the minds of his Subjects, and yield up his Authority as a prey unto those, that know∣ing his insufficiency, take the boldnesse, to enterprise any thing without punishment?

I confesse there are those, which having not studied, have a very good understanding, which they have po∣lished by the experience of things in the world, and by conversing with great personages; but how can we say that those are ignorant which know as much as the books, and might serve for examples to Philoso∣phers? their modesty doth yet make them affirm and acknowledge, that if they had received a deeper tin∣cture of good learning, they should have drawn there∣from the more grace and advantage.

I would in no wise that a Prince should be like to * 1.95 the Emperour Michael Paripanatius, which had al∣wayes Table-books in his hand, and a pen, composing of Verses, or making Periods to run smooth.

I do not so much esteem such petty shews of super∣fluous knowledge, and ill ordered in a great one; but to see a man at the government of people, which hath laid a deep foundation of true piety, knows the secrets of Philosophy, the best purified, is no wayes ignorant of Divine and Humane Laws, is skilfull in the Histories of all Nations, with very diligent Observations and particular applications to his own government. A man

that can judge, speak, and act, that can expresse him∣self with clearnesse and majesty of words, fitting to his estate; this is it which makes him appear as a God amongst men; which gives him authority amongst his people; which makes him esteemed by his equalls; feared by his inferiours; terrible to his enemies; and honoured by all the world. It is by these means that Augustus Cesar, Trajan, Vespatian, Marcus Aure∣lius, Antoninus, and so man others, whereof Tiraquel reckons up eight and thirty very famous in his Book of Nobility, have attained to that heighth of reverence which hath made them honoured throughout all ages.

For a proof of this, we see the great reputation * 1.96 that Solomon got in judging of the two women, which disputed whose the little infant should be. Both of them said equally, that she was the true mother; the one acted it cunningly, the other proceeded therein with truth. It was needfull to know which spoke from the heart, and which from the tongue onely. There are counterfeits so well stuft out and neatly co∣loured, that many able men cannot know, nor are able to distinguish the true from the false. Parmeno coun∣terfeited so perfectly the cry of a young chicken, that one would have thought that nature could not have set out out any thing better in comparison of him. So ma∣ny skilfull men, so many gray heads were at that time in the Court of Solomon, which lost themselves in this counterfeit, without being able to discover it; and when he commanded a sword to be brought, and to divide the little infant, all the world was amazed: some thought his judgement was grosse, that it was cruel and bloudy; but Solomon had studied in the bo∣some of nature the affections of a true mother. When he understood that the one approved of this command, and was urgent that the infant should be divided in two, he drove her away as an impudent one; but when he saw that the other was moved and wounded deeply at her heart, and that she cryed with a pitifull voyce, that they should rather give the infant all whole to that wicked one, then to make two pieces of it. When he considered the affrightment on her face, and all the veins of her body swelling at this design, he pronounced with the voyce of an Oracle, that she was the true mother, which was avouched and acknowledged pub∣lickly. All the assistants were so taken with this expe∣dient that their King had invented, that they extoll'd him to heaven, and promised themselves all, such a discerning, and equity, semblable in their differ∣ences. Who doth not see then that Understanding is the Eye of a Prince, and the light of his people? This reputation of understanding, and lofty knowledge of Solomon, was spread abroad amongst strange Nations, * 1.97 and drew the Queen of Sheba unto Jerusalem. This is a story which hath afforded recreation to divers, that have exercised their pens thereupon, and curiosity, throughout the whole world. Every one would baptize her and give her a name; one calls her name Nicaula, another Nitocrisse, another Masseda, and others will have her name to be Candaesse. There is nothing more certain in all this then uncertainty, and it is very hard to give her a name without making a lie thereby.

And yet can one lesse know that of her husband, nor whether she were a maid or a widow, or a married woman. There is some appearance that if she were * 1.98 within the bonds of marriage, she was like unto those Dames that bear rule over their Husbands, and do all that please them in their own house. Her husband was very patient; if it be true which Pineda saith, that she stayed a whole year at Jerusalem in Pastimes, and to propound Riddles. But Claudian that assures us, * 1.99 that the Sabeans are governed by women, will make * 1.100 us rather believe that she was free, and without subje∣ction. She came from the countrey of the Sabeans, which make a part of Arabia, and are very rich in gold and perfumes. This is the reason that she en∣tred into Jerusalem with a great train, and spared not the riches of her countrey for Solomon. She propoun∣ded many questions, whereof the Scripture doth not * 1.101 touch one, which hath given occasion to many to in∣vent at their pleasure; and divers have set down so ri∣diculous ones, that if the Queen of Sheba should have come so farre to have learned so little, there might be an appearance, that coming loaden with so great riches, she had forgot to put in a little Judgement amongst them.

That which Baronius saith is somewhat more cre∣dible; that she was of a countrey where she might learn the prophecie of Balaam touching the birth of the Messias, and that understanding afterwards the greatnesse of Solomon, she had a desire to know if this were not he, whom that prediction looked at. And it is very true that she found the shadow of him in Solo∣mon, but not the body; yet she was so much amazed beholding onely his figure, and viewing the Temple of God which was now built after five and twenty years; in considering the Palace, the Officers, and the order of the whole house of Solomon, that she thought to leave her whole spirit behind her in Jerusalem, having no∣thing elsewhere able to content her.

Those which do judge of the inclinations of Solomon, do conceive, that all these great discourses with a wo∣man, could not passe without strains of love, and pro∣duced him a child by the Queen of Sheba named Da∣vid, from whom Prestor John is descended; but they should have considered that Solomon was not yet so inclined to women, and it was not likely that he should begin with her, causing her to return as one forlorn, which came thither with honest behaviour, and of whom the Gospel speaks honourably.

There are many things in which the Scripture would not content our curiosity, those which would learn more from thence then it hath taught them, are like to those Painters, which account themselves very brave men, when they have the skill to go beyond nature.

And so much for that concerns the Wisdome of So∣lomon, * 1.102 which caused a great part of his miracles. But one cannot sufficiently commend the Zeal which he bore, from the first year of his reign, to the building of the house of God. Herein it is that he hath testified a singular Piety, and a great Wisdome of a States-man; for to say the truth, and to speak according unto the mind of Aristotle, it doth much import that a Prince be religious, for that he is thereby the more lo∣ved and feared by his people, which do not so easily offend him, whom they think to be under Gods protection.

Further also, he was to content a Nation more reli∣gious then any other, and greatly ceremonious, which he could not better do, then in causing them to behold so beautifull a Temple, which should be the marvel of the whole universe.

All men are naturally stirred up with a resentment of a Divinity, and they think that the means to testifie their affection and service thereto, is to erect Temples and offer Sacrifice unto it.

Emulation doth often mingle it self with Religion, and great ones do find their glory, in lifting up that of the Divinity. Pliny makes mention of the Tem∣ple * 1.103 of Diana at Ephesus, whose length was 425. foot, and the bredth 220. with 137. Pillars made by as many Kings; and saith, that all Asia joyned toge∣ther to build it, and spent thereupon the space of two

hundred an•• twenty years before it was fully finished. Whatsoeve he saith of this Temple, we are obliged to believe that was not of value with this of Solomons, which is recommended to us by him to whom it was dedicated, The Living God; which had not then upon earth any buse but this where he was acknowledged. Further als•• it is to be prised, by reason of its foun∣ders, which were two great Princes: for, its greatnesse (which is ompared in the Scripture to a city, the num∣ber of off••••es was so great; Allies, Porches, Houses, and Divisions) was very great there; and above all, the numb••r of the attendants, which did amount sometimes between seven and eight hundred mini∣sters. Adde hereunto the heighth, which was upon the top of two high mountains; the beauty, and the riches which was found there, you will avouch, that it was greater then it is reported. It is a prodigious thing which David saith of himself, in the first of the Chronicles, that he offer'd for this design out of his poverty, a hundred thousand talents of gold, and a thousand thousand talents of silver, which make in all, according to the supputation of our Villalpand, two * 1.104 thousand one hundred twenty and three millions of gold, without comprehending therein that which the people offered freely of their own, which amounted to seventy one millions of gold, eight hundred and four∣score thousand crowns; and the two sums taken toge∣ther, make one thousand one hundred ninety four mil∣lions of gold, eight hundred fourscore thousand crowns, and all this but to serve for that which should be wrought in gold and silver for the use of the Temple.

Josephus also in the eighth Book of his Antiquities * 1.105 saith, That there was numbred there fourscore thou∣sand cups, and as many plates of gold, twenty thousand cencers of the same materiall, two hun∣dred thousand trumpets of silver, and fourty thou∣sand instruments of musick, fashioned of gold and silver; garments of linnen and surplasses, to the number of ten thousand. Lastly, the whole Tem∣ple, from the top to the bottome, and the pavement it self, was covered with plates of gold, fastned toge∣ther with nails of gold which weighed every one five and twenty ounces.

To say the truth, some Interpreters of the Scripture have taken that very high, making the value of their moneys according as they will, in this great obscurity of those that have written of the diversity of their values, according to the diversity of their Ages and Nations: but one may not doubt of the truth of the Scripture, which raises this Temple to a heighth of magnificence, which exceeds all other works.

After that the House of God was established, Solo∣mon made a solemne Dedication thereof, for the which he sacrificed 2200. oxen, and 20000. sheep. He prayed to God aloud before all the people with a wis∣dome and zeal unparallel'd. He blessed all his Subjects with an uncredible joy, so that the face of Jerusalem that day seemed an anticipated Paradise. He busied himself after in building for himself; he made himself a palace, wherein he spared nothing for gloriousnesse, with the most sumptuous Kings of the earth. When as the Scripture relates this with a plainnesse of its style, it ceaseth not to fill our spirits with amazement: and if we had not recourse to the sovereign power of God, which doth all which pleaseth him; we should scarce be able to believe, that the Kingdome of Judea having begun but in Saul, by so miserable begin∣nings that there was hardly found any iron to make swords of, and that at sometimes there was but two to be found in a whole Army, that it should on a sudden rise to so great an increase, that silver was there as common as stones.

This gives a large entry to all sorts of delights and pleasures of stately Princes of the earth, which Solomon soon caused to enter into his palace; and which ruined him by a farre greater disastre, then ever the armies of the Philistims, Ammonites and Mo∣abites could have done. And as Juvenal said, That luxury had taken room, and had reserved unto it self the vengeance for all the evil usage wherewith the Romans had handled so many Kings and Peo∣ple of the habitable world: So we may say, That the Licenciousnesse of Solomon did revenge all the injuries of the Nations stirred up against the people of the Jews.

He which should see a starre fall from heaven into * 1.106 the dirt, for to be trodden upon by the feet of men and beasts, after it had shined amongst the celestial globes; would he be more affrighted and amazed, then in consi∣dering Solomon thrown down from the beautiful firma∣ment of glory where the hand of God had placed him, into those opprobrious passions, labirynths of errours, and unexplicable confusions?

Solomon that was as high lifted up above other Kings, as Kings are above common men, this man of wonders and miracles, the well-beloved of God, which had wisdome for his spouse, virtue for his delight, happinesse for his companion, and glory for the assistant of his throne; to disgrace, by a detestable old age, all the come∣linesse of his life, to deface all the rare inventions of his mind, to eclipse all the weak lights of his understanding.

O women, alwayes fatal to the ruine of great men! who will hereafter think it strange that you have chan∣ged the Gods of the heathens into beasts, seeing that you have transported Solomon into a monster? It is not al∣most imaginable into what a gulf of destruction Love plunged this miserable Prince: and that Philosopher Antisthenes said true, that if there were such a Venus as the Poets have made, he would be her hang-man: If there were such a Cupid as they have painted out, he would pull off his wings, and throw him down from the Heaven of heavens, where they had placed him, into the deepest of the bottomlesse pits, for that this is the frenzy of the understanding, the poison of the heart, the corruption of the manners, and the desolation of our life. O true God! how ought all good understandings, and all persons that make profes∣sion of knowledge, of honour and virtue, look upon So∣lomon, as a mast broken on the top of a mountain, which God hath placed there above to make them take heed of the shipwracks of Love!

One doth seldome begin wickednesses at the top: * 1.107 vices have their degrees as well as virtues; Solomon at first began to grow cool in the worship of the true God, his conversations with him were not so often nor so pleasing, the pleasures of the world invited him, the delights of the Court charmed him; actions that are too free, soon become evill, and evil ones turn them∣selves into custome, and custome into an habit. This child of God saw the daughters of men, these strange beauties which pricked him by their novelty; he became man, and made of them his Goddesses. The daughters of the Amorites, and of the Moabites, those of Egypt, of Sidon, of Idumea, and so many others, whereof God had forbidden him any alliance, were the Idols of his heart, after they had been the plague and poison of his understanding.

He which had pronounced so many excellent para∣bles against love, which had so many times advertised youth, that the lips of an unchaste woman distilled ho∣ney at the beginning, but at the end they gave a potion of wormwood; was taken by the eyes, enchained with infinite affections. His love was pompous; his luxury, sumptuous; he loved as much for glory as for con∣cupiscence;

he would act the King in his unchaste∣nesse, as stately as in the furniture of his Temple. He had about seven hundred women which were as his Queens; and with that three hundred Concu∣bines, which is according to the account of the Scri∣pture a thousand wives, which he had shut up in a Seraglio, for the pleasures of his eyes and of his flesh; and of so many loves there is but one sonne to be found, Rehoboam, void of wisdome and under∣standing.

What could a Prince do amongst so many delights, so many allurements, so many charms, and so many bewitchings! A man is oft-times much hindered by the troublesome brain of one woman onely; what se∣rious businesse then could he set himself to, that had them multiplied by hundreds! These strangers came * 1.108 each of them with all the inventions of their Nati∣on, for to surprize him; there was one that would gain him to her; another that would keep him; another that would draw him from one sin to ano∣ther, even unto the bottome of hell. It is farre more easie to become a fool with a woman, then to make her wise; he had endeavoured perhaps to covert them to his Religion, but they perverted him, and drew him to theirs. He took their loves, and af∣terward * 1.109 their behaviour, and at last their Super∣stition.

Every one of these women would bring her God into esteem, and thought not her self to have any credit in her love, if she did not make her false Deity to partake thereof: they made such Gods, as had no honester Title then the sinnes of debauched women. As soon as he had made an Idol for one, he must do the like for another; all there went by the Emulation of their brains, weak in reason, and ardent in their passions. They reckon about six Temples built round about Jerusalem to the Gods of six principall Nations. But it was not sufficient to make these Gods, they must be adored, and presented with Sacrifices and Incense, to content his Loves. And he did not all this in shews onely, nor dissimulation, but his heart (as the Scripture saith) was wholly turned aside from the true God; and fell (as S. Austin saith) into the depth of the gulf of Idolatry. What might the admirers of his great Temple have said; or rather the true wor∣shippers of the great God? What discourse might so many Kings and Queens have held, that had had in so high esteem the wisdome of Solomon? The report of his Loves and his Superstitions ran through∣out all Kingdomes as a story unheard of, which cau∣sed laughter enough to wicked ones, as tears to good people, and astonishment to the whole world.

How art thou faln from heaven, O fair starre of the * 1.110 morning! Thou faithfull fore-runner of the King of Lamps, which wert adorned with the purest and most innocent flames of the firmament; who hath made thee to become a coal? and who could bury thy lights in a dung-hill?

This lamentable King lost that great wisdome that made him esteemed over the whole world, and became stupid, leaving the care of all the affairs of his King∣dome. All those great riches were exhausted, and cast, as it were, into the gulf of Luxury. He began to over-charge his people to maintain his infamous pleasures, which made all their minds revolt against him. The Prophets and Priests could not relish with him, by reason of his changing Religion. All the understanding Nobility did abhorre him, seeing him so plunged in his filth. The Commons desired nothing but to shake off the yoke that they could no longer bear. God raised him up Rebellions on every side, which prepared themselves •••• overthrow his Empire. But no man took it so much to heart, as Jeroboam, an able and subtil man whom he had advanced, and employed in gathe••••ng his Tri∣butes for him. It was he to whom he Prophet Ahaziah gave ten pieces of his garme••t, fore-tel∣ling him, that he should reign over to Tribes of Israel; and that was the cause that the King would have put him to death, but he fled ••nto Egypt, and returned under weak Rehoboam th•• successour of Solomon; who, despising the counsels of the An∣tients, that exhorted him to give his people con∣tent, trusted to that of the young ones without brains, which perswaded him to hold his own, and that the people would not be brought under but by rigour. Which made him to be forsaken by ten Tribes at once, which cast themselves into the arms of Jeroboam, who made a change of Reli∣gion and State in Samaria, without ever being able, either himself or his successours to bring them unto obedience again. See here how Kingdomes change their Masters for the sins of lasciviousnesse, impie∣ty, and oppressions of the people, which are then greatly to be feared when despair hath brought them to fear nothing.

One may ask, for a conclusion, what became * 1.111 of this wise Solomon? Whether he died in his sinne? or whether he repented? Whether he were saved, or damned? This is a Common place that hath exercised many excellent pens which have handled this subject curiously and eloquently. I love not to do things done already: I shall say onely, that we may alwayes take the most favourable opinions, which can with any likelihood defend themselves in favour of the safety of great persons. There are some number of the holy Fathers which speak very openly thereof, and perswade themselves that he re∣pented. S. Jerome upon the Prophet Ezekiel saith, That although the founder of this great Temple sinned, yet he was converted to God by a true repentance, and for proof hereof, he alledges the Book of the Proverbs, in the four and twentieth Chapter, that saith, Novissimè ego egi poenitenti∣am & respexi, ut eligerem disciplinam: that is, At the last I repented and looked back, that I might chuse instruction. Although these words are not found in our Bible; as he also draws them from the Septuagint, and to uphold his opi∣nion, he will have Solomon to have written the Book of the Proverbs after his fall, which is very hard to verifie.

And elsewhere also, the same Authour upon the first Chapter of Ecclesiastes saith, That this Book is the repentance of Solomon, according to the He∣brews. S. Ambrose in the second book of the Apo∣logy of David, Chap. 3. puts Samson, David, and Solomon in the number of sinners converted: Erraverunt tamen ut homines, sed peccata sua, tan∣quam justi agnoverunt. Behold here that which is most formall, without collecting many ambiguous passages. S. Gregory the Great, in the second book of his Morals, Chap. 2. S. Prosper, S. Euche∣rius, * 1.112 and amongst the Modern, Tostat. Bellar∣mine, and Maldonat condemne him. Tertullian, Augustine, Cyril of Alexandria, Gregory Nyssen, Isidore, Bernard, Chrysostome, and Rupert, leave this question doubtfull and undecided. And to say truly, this is all which can be said modestly and humanely, and also the truestin a matter where there is nothing more certain then incertainty.

For to say that he hath composed the Book of Ecclesiastes after that he was deprived of his King∣dome,

and of all the Vanities, is a story of the Rabbins which are little to be believed; further also, this Book is properly a Dialogue of divers men that dispute one against the other, and bring forth good and bad sentences, although the Authour of the Book doth take the good part. To say that which Bonaventure saith, That not one of the sacred Authours was damned; if it be true, the reason is, because they lived well, and not because they have written well. For the kingdome of God (saith Saint Paul) doth not consist in words. To build upon the Promises which were made to David concerning * 1.113 Solomon, if there be some favourable, there are also others that say, That if he leave God, he shall be cast away by God for ever. To alledge that he was buried in the Sepulchre of his father, how ma∣ny of the damned have had a quiet death, and a stately buriall? To bring forth all the kindnesses and favours of God towards him, are but so many re∣proaches of his unthankfulnesse.

The argument which is drawn from the negative which they esteem ordinarily very weak, is here too strong for his condemnation. For whence comes it that Nathan his Master, and Partizan, who wrote the Books of the Kings, or caused them to be con∣tinued by Aziah and Haddo his disciples; whence comes it, I say, that Authours so affectionate to So∣lomon, so zealous for the honour of their Nation, having undertaken to give us his story, and having forgotten nothing of the least things, even to the numbering of Solomons horses, after they have so expresly spoken of his sinne, have not added his repentance? This thing was too much important for the glory of God, for the reputation of their Ma∣ster, for the edification of their people, for the ex∣ample of other Kings, to passe it over in silence. Surely we might well accuse them either of great malice, or of grosse stupidity, a thing which can∣not happen to Prophets which write by the inspira∣tion of God.

Further, who knows not, that repentance ought to be followed by outward actions, and conformable to the movings of the heart? Who will not avouch that it ought to be testified by a renouncing of sins, and all things that have drawn us to offend? Where is it then spoken that Solomon had dismissed one onely of his thousand women, which were those nets of his destruction? Where is it written that he destroyed the Temples, and beat down the Images which he had erected at the solicitations of his Mi∣stresses? We know all the contrary, that these Abominations remained standing untill King Josiah who caused them to be overthrown. That which causes the more fear, is, that by how much the more a man comes near the great understanding which they attribute to the Devils, by so much also he takes the greater part in their punishment, when he falls into any grievous sinne. The great lights of these rare Spirits, turned themselves into the flames of their punishments, and their knowledge serves for nothing but to nourish the more the worm of Conscience.

Now as Solomon was advantaged by understanding and wisdome aboue other men, and that he fell into the sinne of Apostacie, and turning from God, there is great danger lest God turned from him his Mercy, which is used more ordinarily to∣wards those that sinne by ignorance, although culpable.

Adde unto all this, that those which in their old age continue in the sins of unthankfulnesse which they have contracted by long habits, are very hard to cure, because that old men become more hardned in evil, more despising all admonitions which are made to them, by presuming on the authority which they think is due to their age. Further also, their luxury is not onely a sinne of the flesh, which then lesse feels the violence of great temptations, but a spi∣rituall sinne, which proceeds from a spirituall and enraged concupiscence, which makes them offered professedly rather then by frailty. He that shall * 1.114 well weigh this, shall find that it is better to leave to the secret mercy of God, that which one can∣not attain by reason, and to fear every thing in this life, even to the gifts of heaven and ones own sure∣nesse thereby.

Notes

• * 1.1

  A great se∣cret of life.
• * 1.2

  Antholog. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.3

  The quali∣ties of Da∣vid.
• * 1.4

  Men of God.
• * 1.5

  Divids en∣trance into the Court.
• * 1.6

  Envy never sleepeth.
• * 1.7

  Goliah.
• * 1.8

  The horri∣ble Envy of Saul.
• * 1.9

  Envy is easi∣ly learned at the Court.
• * 1.10

  Humane wisdome overthrown by the pow∣er of heaven
• * 1.11

  The love of David and Jonathan.
• * 1.12

  The good offices of Jonathan.
• * 1.13

  Saul clear∣ed for a while, again returns to his evil spirit.
• * 1.14

  David is pursued, and escapes.
• * 1.15

  The life of David in banishment.
• * 1.16

  His arrivall at Nob causeth great dis∣astre to the high Priest.
• * 1.17

  Doeg accu∣seth the high Priest being inno∣cent.
• * 1.18

  Bloudy ef∣fects of the jealousie of Saul.
• * 1.19

  David saves himself in the caves of the de∣sert, whi∣ther father and mother go to seek him.
• * 1.20

  His piety towards▪ them.
• * 1.21

  Banished men repair∣ed to him.
• * 1.22

  The visit of Jonathan, secret and and very profitable to David.
• * 1.23

  The rude∣nesse of Na∣bal towards David.
• * 1.24

  The wis∣dome of Abigail his wife.
• * 1.25

  A good deed done to a great one afflicted is of much value.
• * 1.26

  David furi∣ously pur∣sued by Saul
• * 1.27

  His gene∣rousnesse in pardoning his enemy, very admi∣rable.
• * 1.28

  The great∣nesse and benefit of clemency.
• * 1.29

  David goes out of the kingdome, and retires himself among strangers.
• * 1.30

  1 King. 27.
• * 1.31

  Saul being in great perplexitie consults with the soul of Sa∣muel.
• * 1.32

  He marches against the Philistims in battell and is over∣thrown.
• * 1.33

  The end of Saul.
• * 1.34

  David re∣ceives the news there∣of.
• * 1.35

  The king∣dome divi∣ded by the ambition of the favou∣rites.
• * 1.36

  Joab and Abner do seek for the government
• * 1.37

  Their com∣bat.
• * 1.38

  The death of Azael by his rash∣nesse.
• * 1.39

  The disa∣greeing of Abner and Ishbosheth.
• * 1.40

  The inso∣lence of Abner.
• * 1.41

  Masters should not give too much au∣thority to their sub∣jects.
• * 1.42

  He treateth with David
• * 1.43

  Joabs Jea∣lousie over Abner.
• * 1.44

  The death of Abner.
• * 1.45

  David tole∣rates Joab in his fault upon neces∣sitie.
• * 1.46

  David can∣not be ex∣cused upon the treaty made with Abner, if one have not recourse to the se∣cret and o∣ver-ruling will of God.
• * 1.47

  David ab∣solute by the death of Ishbo∣sheth son of Saul.
• * 1.48

  The Royal qualities of David.
• * 1.49

  His zeal to religion.
• * 1.50

  His valour and his wars
• * 1.51

  His justice and good husbandry.
• * 1.52

  His vices. The love of Bathsheba.
• * 1.53

  The love Bathshe∣ba.
• * 1.54

  Paulus Oro∣sius. l. 3. Concubitu regnum ab Alexandro redemit.
• * 1.55

  The death of Utiah.
• * 1.56

  The blind∣nesse of Da∣vid.
• * 1.57

  The carri∣age of truth costs dear at the court
• * 1.58

  Davids re∣pentance.
• * 1.59

  Punishment upon the house of David.
• * 1.60

  Absolon out of fa∣vour.
• * 1.61

  His recon∣ciliation by the means of Joab.
• * 1.62

  Absolons revolt.
• * 1.63

  His designs.
• * 1.64

  His ambi∣tion.
• * 1.65

  Absolon caused him∣self to be proclaimed King.
• * 1.66

  A great ex∣ample of the weak∣nesse of mans spirit when it is left by God.
• * 1.67

  Whence this small courage came, when David pro∣ceeded.
• * 1.68

  The pati∣ence of Da∣vid towards Shemei.
• * 1.69

  His great humility and humble words.
• * 1.70

  The perni∣cious coun∣sel of Achi∣tophel.
• * 1.71

  The wis∣dome of Chushi the servant of David in the counsel of Absolon.
• * 1.72

  Absolon gives battel to his fa∣ther, where he is over∣thrown and killed.
• * 1.73

  The death of Absolon.
• * 1.74

  Joabs inso∣lency.
• * 1.75

  Davids mildenesse very great.
• * 1.76

  The last acts of Da∣vids life.
• * 1.77

  Solomons entry into the Realm full of trou∣bles.
• * 1.78

  Bathsheba fitly insinu∣ares her self and procures the Crown for her son Solomon.
• * 1.79

  Solomons infancy pleasing.
• * 1.80

  Adonijah competitor of the Crown and his faction.
• * 1.81

  The fault of Adonijah in his Counsel of State.
• * 1.82

  Nathan and Bathsheba's advice.
• * 1.83

  Solomon is declared King.
• * 1.84

  The death of David, and the bloudy en∣grance of Solomon.
• * 1.85

  Adonijah desired the Shunamite which com∣pleted his misfortune.
• * 1.86

  Solomons rigour.
• * 1.87

  He cannot well be ju∣stified for the murder of his bro∣ther.
• * 1.88

  The just punishment of God up∣on Solomon
• * 1.89

  Abiathar the high Priest depri∣ved of his dignity by a very violent action.
• * 1.90

  The death of Joab.
• * 1.91

  A wonder∣full Dream of Solomon.
• * 1.92

  His Know∣ledge.
• * 1.93

  Whether learning be profitable for Princes.
• * 1.94

  The learn∣ing of a Prince de∣fended.
• * 1.95

  Knowledge ought to be moderate.
• * 1.96

  The judge∣ment of So∣lomon on the conten∣tion of the two women
• * 1.97

  The Queen of Sheba.
• * 1.98

  Her quali∣ties.
• * 1.99

  Claudian. in Eutrop.
• * 1.100

  Levibúsque Sabaeis im∣perat hic fexus. Women a∣mongst the Sabeans command over men.
• * 1.101

  The questi∣ons of the Queen of Sheba.
• * 1.102

  His zeal to the building of the Temple.
• * 1.103

  Plin. l. 36. c. 14. The Temple of Ephesu••.
• * 1.104

  Villalp. in Ezekiel. 3. apparat. Patal, 1. 22. Tyrinus his mille quin∣gentos & aureorum ex eodem Vallalpan∣do.
• * 1.105

  Josep. l. 8. cap. 3.
• * 1.106

  The fall of Solomon.
• * 1.107

  The begin∣ning of his debauched∣nesse.
• * 1.108

  Their arti∣fice.
• * 1.109

  He is per∣verted in Religion.
• * 1.110

  The dissipa∣tion of his estate.
• * 1.111

  The estate of Solomon in the other world.
• * 1.112

  Prosp. lib. 2. de praedict. cap. 27. Solomon clatus in senio, forni∣catus ani∣mo & cor∣pore Domi∣uo ipsum deserente malè obiit.
• * 1.113

  1 Par. 2. 9.
• * 1.114

  The con∣clusion touching Solomons salvation.