A SERMON PREACHED At Pauls Crosse, August the 5. 1623.


LONDON, Printed by William Stansby for Nathaniell Butter, and are to be sold at his Shop at Saint Austines Gate in Pauls Church-yard. 1626.


Most Noble Sir,

WHen I see you peremptory to be good; I iudge your vnhap­pinesse no lesse then your Vertue; and I thinke most men haue my thought, though not my way. They iudge you vnhappy, because your Honour is not as large as your goodnesse; and they thinke kindly, though not exactly: that being no part of your vnhappi­nesse, because no part of your desire. But I iudge you most vnhappy, in that, being a rare example of Vertue in our Age, you want the comfort of that example, which other good men enioy in the direct contemplation of you; and you enioy not, through your owne modestie: which denyes you the reflectiue contemplation of [Page] your selfe. And since it hath beene your fauour (and my blessing) to ad­mit mee to the prospect of your faire actions, I knew not how to returne a more cunning thankes vnto you, then to present vnto you another prospect; the gratefull prospect of our late So­ueraigne, and of your loued Holder­nesse; who may very well stand thus neere in fame, hauing beene as much vnited in danger and deliuerance. And still it is so farre from being an vntruth, that it is not so much as a pa­radoxe to affirme, that They both liue; and, by their preseruation, out­liue not only the Gowries, but also their owne Funerals. By the Sword of the Gowries they could haue beene but proued to be mortall: but by the execution of the Gowries they are [Page] prooued to bee immortall, and be­cause they did not die then, they shall neuer die; nay, they are able to giue life to their Epitaphs. And, only by this aduantage of the argument, per­chance euen this trifle may steale into Posteritie: though, alas, my desire is, that it may only last, till this story bee deliuered to Fame and Enuie, by some nobler pen, then this rude one of

Your Honour's most faithfull Barten Holyday.
PSAL. 18. Verse 48, 49.

—Thou hast deliuered mee from the violent man.

Therefore will J giue thankes vnto thee (O Lord) among the Heathen; and sing prayses vnto thy name.

IF the voice of ioy were not as loud as the voice of Treason, wee could not vpon this day heare the newes of our owne deliue­rance. But gratitude & Maiestie command the eare; & when the King preacheth, Attention is Loyalty. My Text is King Dauid's Sermon, and his Text is his preseruation. God saues him; and he by an imitating thankfulnesse saues the story of God's mercy. His speech testifies his safetie; but his confession his goodnesse: which the Lord protects and increases; And it increases like the protection, as if by a de­uout emulation it would as much requite as acknowledge the fauour. Which being aboue the faint thankes of prose, he aduances by the art and courage of a Song. His soule could no other way ascend, but by death or triumph: in which, his iust exilience is so great, that one may feare he ought after treason to feare a nee­rer violence from his owne ioy. Yet hee ven­ters this gratefull trance; as if he were content to haue a disease for his sake that had freed him from death. His Song is of deliuerance, an act by which God repeates his creation, and makes the same creature, without death, re­uiue. It is the friendship of his power; where­by [Page 2] he makes our safety as eminent as his loue: which by this vnfeigned Commentarie vpon our Creed, workes in vs an easie faith, that God is the Father Almightie. If we view the purchases of men we may obserue, that they, who haue laid out most labour vpon opinion of mightinesse, haue had their greatest Fame take life from Ruine, and with a lamentable happinesse made the epitaphs of nations the best annals of their immortalitie and furie. But the Almighty does not spend a creature in vnmercifull vanitie, the height of his glory be­ing the humilitie of his compassion. And though the Iew in his grammaticall deuotion trembles more at the found then the maiestie of his name of maiestie, Iehouah; yet God himselfe hath taught vs by a more canonicall Catechisme to pay our best adoration without precise sophistrie to his name of saluation, his best name, Iesus. And if you would see, how he delights to saue, you may with delight see his varietie of saluations. Sometimes you may see him saue an infant; when hee must stay for thankes, till by the leisure of nature, the vn­derstanding bee made as capable of the bles­sing, as the bodie was. Sometimes you may [Page 3] see him saue a mother; & as if he would make himselfe like his owne worke, bee as tender o­uer her, as she ouer her babe. Sometimes you may see him saue the mightie; It was hee that deliuered Sampson from the captiuitie of the cordes: which he did not breake by his owne strength. The strength of his body lay in his haire: but the strength of his haire lay in his Vow; The Nazarite was stronger then Samp­son. Sometimes you may see him saue a fami­ly: It was he that prepar'd Esau for Iacob and his pilgrim-houshold▪ Esau that before lost his birth-right, and now his malice. Nature vainly thought to make him Iacob's brother, but this was a taske, that God kept for himselfe. Some­times you may see him saue a tribe; It was he, that in reuenge of his abused Leuite, made Is­rael so ouer-act victory vpon Beniamin, that they put sixe hundred of them to a happy flight: whereby they preseru'd the tribe, and conquer'd it. They deliuered them from the Sword, by bestowing vpon them too much feare of it. Sometimes you may see him saue a nation: It was hee that led Moses as well as Israel through the Sea, which was more obe­dient then Pharaoh to let them goe, and hur­ried [Page 4] on each side into such reuerent tumults to get out of the way, that Israel scarce trembled more at the Aegyptian, then at their owne de­liuerance. Sometimes you may see him saue a King, and then he shewes the supremacie of his mercie; whiles hee makes him perceiue, that he is lesse then God, by making him one­ly lesse then God. Maiesty is a deputy-diuini­ty; and to deny Royalty is ciuill Atheisme: God hauing propos'd to man the visible God­head of a King, as his owne proportionall and lawfull image. A King is as sacred as sublime, and as great a part of God's iealousie, as of his loue. God therefore often confounds the trea­son, but almost alwayes the traitour. He places a King on high, to make vs vnderstand how neere he is vnto protection; He places a King on high, to make vs vnderstand how farre hee is aboue the hand of the subiect; which is to be employed, not to touch a King, but to defend him from being touch'd. The knee is a better subiect then the hand; this may bee alwayes loyall, that alwayes is safe; this may protect with a shield, that with a prayer: which the Lord doth more often preuent, then heare: the secret expedition of violence prouoking [Page 5] as secret an expedition of deliuerance. The de­liuerance of a King is the greatest Epocha in the Chronicle of Gods mercies, and releeues the curiositie of expectation with a gratefull period. Thus though in the Eternall there be properly no distinction of times, yet there is of wonders: which most prefer themselues to obseruation, when by a courteous almigh­tinesse they command vs to reioyce, as much as to admire, and are indulgent to our neces­sary ingratitude, which lookes more vpon the benefit, then on the wonder. Yet is there one degree more of deliuerance, when God makes himselfe reioyce as much as vs; when he deli­uer's a good King; by the same act of mer­cie protecting innocencie with as much ioy, as he does maiestie with indignation. He was content to deliuer Manasses; but hee did de­light to deliuer Ezechias; the repetition of the deliuerance being the profession of the de­light; as if it had not beene enough to saue him but once, Disease laid a neerer siege vnto him then Sennacherib; yet disease fledde like Sennacherib, who ought to haue fledde more from his owne blasphemy, then from the An­gel. Against the Assyrian an Angel was made a [Page 6] souldier; but against death God himselfe came to the rescue. And yet has honorable mercy no higher degree to bestow vpō a superlatiue friēd, vpon God's Dauid? Yes. God did visit others, but liu'd with him. He was with him when he tore the Lion, as the Lion would haue torne the Lambe, making the destruction as famous as the strength. He prouided the peeble for his sling; whose actiue preuention gaue not the Philistine the respite of feare or anger; but ma­king his strength, as vaine as it was great, with triumph committed him to death and scorne. Now these were Dauid's deliuerances, when he was a sheepheard; (yet when God was his sheepheard) but will you see his protections in his royalty, as illustrious, as his royaltie? So peraduenture we may find out, among his many traitours, his violent man, from whom hee had equall glorie and feare. If wee looke vpon Abner, wee may obserue more power, then violence. Strengthned he was with Saul's armie and sonne: but an easie quarrell be­tweene him and his Lord bestowed him vpon Dauid: who receiuing at once peace and strength from his enemy, by a rare felicity saw his danger made his safety, And thus we haue [Page 7] not yet found out Dauid's violent man. If wee looke vpon Absalom, wee may obserue more subtilty, then violence. Arm'd hee was with Achitophel, against whose wisdome Da­uid had nothing equall, but his innocence, which inuited God's mercy to such reuenge, that by a compendious iustice it made the wise traitour become his owne executio­ner, and vaine Absalom was onely happie by being aduanc'd to a deliberate destructi­on; And thus wee haue not yet sound out Dauids violent man. If wee looke vpon Sheba the sonne of Bichri, wee may obserue more vanitie, then violence. Hee fought more with the trumpet, then the sword; and raising rather a tumult, then a rebellion, al­most as soone lost his head, as his loyaltie. And thus wee haue not as yet found out Da­uids violent man. Wee will not looke vpon Adoniah, and yet he was a goodly person; in whom wee may obserue more desire, then violence. But notwithstanding if wee would looke vpon him, hee will take sanctuarie be­fore wee can see him; and from the hornes of the altar make his pardon as soone knowne as his offence. And thus wee haue not as yet [Page 8] found out Dauids violent man. But if we will looke backe in storie, wee shall finde an ene­mie of Dauids before all these both in time and furie. Wee shall behold Saul beginning a persecution with his owne hand, which throwes a iauelin at him; but it is guided by a better hand to a mercifull errour. Wee shall behold him sending messengers to kill him in the morning; as if they expected the light on­ly to guide them to the certaintie of the exe­cution; least peraduenture by an vnpardona­ble mistake they should commit a lesse villa­nie. But Dauids wife by a better light fore­seeing the intent, shewes that the night is as conuenient for an escape as for a murder, and letting him downe at a windowe makes the same darknesse conceale their treacherie; and delude it. Wee shall behold Saul himselfe hunting after him, as if hee would driue him out of his countrie and wits: but Dauid in the extremitie of wit and banishment disguises himselfe in a safe madnesse, making it the best vse of his reason to seeme to haue lost the vse of his reason. Wee shall behold this violent man driuing him againe after his returne, into caues and deserts; by a new crueltie banish­ing [Page 9] him thus in his owne countrie. We shall behold him at last so out-runne his owne furie and companie that he is left alone to his mercie, whom hee teaches to be vnmercifull. Wee shall see him become rather Dauids ar­mour-bearer, then his enemie, losing vnto him the speare, that hee hunts him with; ar­ming him thus at once with the opportunitie and instrument of reuenge. And might not Dauid at this rare leisure of affliction iustly cry out vnto violent Saul, Saul, Saul, why perse­cutest thou me? Thus haue you seene Dauids violent man: but now will you see his vi­olent God? Behold the art of diuine ven­geance! The losse of Saul's life must not cost Dauid the losse of his innocence. Hee has for a long time persecuted Dauid, and now hee returnes to persecute himselfe. Dauid found a wildernesse to hide himselfe from Saul; but Saul can finde no wildernesse to hide himselfe from himselfe. His owne feare and his sword quickly dispatch him. It had beene too much glorie to fall by the rio­torious hand of Dauid; it had beene too much content to fall by the commanded hand of his owne seruant. Dauid was reueng'd, when Saul was slaine: but God was reueng'd when [Page 10] Saul slew himselfe. The heart of the King is in the hand of God; and is not the hand of the King in the hand of God? Saul fell by his owne hand, and by Gods; His owne hand acts the murder, but God's the reuenge. Thus God deliuers Dauid from Saul by Saul. A de­liuerance almost as admirable for the instru­ment, as for the Authour. You see then what God has done for Dauid, now heare what Da­uid will doe for God. And I may iustly bid you heare, because hee will giue thankes vnto the Lord; because hee does giue thankes vnto the Lord. Hee does giue thankes, whiles hee does promise them, & whiles he confesses his debt, he payes it. Which payment by words is not more easie then true; it being a gift which accompanied a blessing, & is one. God neuer giues vnto a good man a single bles­sing, but at the same time makes him both hap­py and gracefull. And it is societie of blessings our vnderstanding may obserue in those crea­tures that are without vnderstanding: each good tree giuing thankes for his goodnesse by his fruitfulnesse. Goodnesse is the looking glasse, and gratitude the reflexion; whereby the Creatour beholds and applaudes his owne worke. Which worke was in Dauid so vnfai­nedly [Page 11] exact, that God's goodnesse seem'd to bee reflected with as much similitude as de­light; and with as much expedition as simili­tude. God deliuers him from death, and straight hee deliuers himselfe from ingrati­tude. He does not giue thanks vnto his speare, or rather vnto Saul's speare: which hee vsed not vnto victorie, yet vnto triumph. His hap­pinesse made Saul his captiue, but his mercie did onely take his speare captiue. The speare in holy reuerence did not touch Saul; but the dutifull mercie gaue him a loyall wound. Hee does not giue thankes to the swiftnesse of his beast, which might make his flight more spee­dy then his danger. We know of no horse hee had, but his feare. Hee does not giue thankes vnto his sword. He fled without one, till hee came to Ahimelech the Priest; of whom hee was faine to borrow one that was his one, the sword, which hee formerly wonne from Go­liah. Yet Dauid did no more hurt to Saul with it, then Goliah did to Dauid with it. Hee does not giue thankes vnto his wit; which without strength may put a man in hope, but seldome in safetie. He does giue thankes vnto the Lord, that in his flight affoorded him direction and defence; and hee delights to disgrace himselfe [Page 12] to thankfulnesse, whiles he makes himselfe no more part of the deliuerance, then the argu­ment. If some politique Discourser were to censure this businesse, hee would inuade it with the licence of phansie; and deliuer vnto vs a new story of the same actions, making Da­uid as great a Politician as himselfe. He would tell vs of his courtship with Ahimelech, by whom he was both sed and arm'd: He would tell vs of his iudicious and wel-expressed madnesse before Achish the King of Gath: He would tell vs of his foure hundred Bankc­rupts and discontents, whole despaire he raised into courage, by making himselfe Captaine ouer them at Adullam: He would tell vs how hee wrought vpon the King by nothing vpon his children Ionathan and Michel, making him his friend and her his wife, by whom hee made a discouerie & aduantage of the King's hate and feare: He would tell vs that hee spa­red Saul, not for Saul's sake, but his owne since hee might expect most certaine [...] from the guilt, and as certaine pardon by the loyaltie: Lastly, he would draw out such a ne­cessitie of deliuerance in all his troubles from the vnited causes, circumstances and depen­dances of the actions, that both the danger and [Page 13] the glory would be all Dauid's; and he would tell vs that to oppose this, were to deny the principles of the great Patriarch Achitophel, and Saint Machiauel; and thus would make God almighty so vnacquainted with the busi­nesse, as if hee were wholy imployed about some other piece of prouidence. But Dauid's gratitude does abhorre this guiltie wisedome and hee is so farre from not rendring thankes vnto God, that he proclaimes them; making them of as great extent as the libertie God brings him into. Hee counts it an ingratitude to prayse God without witnesse; and he makes himselfe more thankfull, whiles hee makes others thankfull. Their silence is a part and an increase of his speech, which is pointed by the respites of their admiration. No lesse then the whole people can bee an auditor equall to Dauid's ioy; wherein you may behold a hap­py contradiction of Philosophie, extending an accident beyond a subiect; Dauid's ioy is lar­ger then his heart, and yet his heart is larger then all the people's; and his thankes likewise must not haue the same bounds with his Do­minions. He will commit his Psalmes to fame and deuotion, which shall faithfully deliuer [Page 14] them vnto the Nations; And the Nations shall reioyce to studie God in Dauid; and God shall reioyce to heare Dauid in the Nations: and Dauid shall reioyce to fore-know the ioy of God and the Nations. This day in the Chri­stian posteritie of the Heathen, Dauid's Pro­phesie is made storie; and his Psalme is made our Psalme: whiles Dauid giues vs the words, wherewith we giue thankes for him vnto the Lord. But Dauid cannot rest content with the tame thankes of words. Hee is not made more actiue by his feare, then by his ioy; which sometimes moues his hand vnto his Harpe, as if it would make the soule by the finger im­part harmony to the instrument, and by arte not adulterate, yet multiply thankes. Some­times it moues his whole body, which by the obedience of a deuout Daunce keepes time with the excitations of his soule: And some­times it moues his voyce by a song, by which the soule, whiles in the body seemes to mount higher then the bodie. Dauid could not al­wayes carry the pleasant burden of his Harpe with him; but his voyce was an easie and faith­full companion. The most instructed pensill, that can expresse all passions, cannot yet ex­presse [Page 15] a voice; but the voice by a naturall cun­ning can without the pensill expresse all passi­ons. It can prolong it self into the slow not of sorrow, and teach the eare to suffer with the heart; It can sharpen it selfe into the cleere ac­cent of joy, and by purifying motion seeme to make the spirits of the heart as light as the soule. When we sing, we commit an innocent flattery of our selues, our owne melodie being the gratefull coozenage of our minds without abuse. But when we sing a Psalme, we chastize the errour of delight, and so please our selues, that we please God. To sing Psalmes is to pre­uent the joyes of Heauen; but to sing Psalmes of prayse is to increase the joyes in Heauen. The Angels rejoyce at out godly sorrow; how much more doe they rejoyce at our godly joy! The Church triumphant makes vp the an­theme of the Church militant. Yet all our songs doe not make God more great, but more gracious. Hee makes his prayses our blessings. Thus we can then onely with a mo­dest and lawfull wisdome prayse our selues, when we prayse God. And this was an art, wherein Dauid was no lesse skilfull then hap­py: his whole life was but a blessing and a [Page 16] Psalme. If he kill a Lion or a Beare, hee will straight be as thankfull, as strong; and confesse that though it were by the arme of Dauid, yet it was by the strength of God. If he kill a Gy­ant with the weapons of a sheepheard, he will straight confesse that God was the sheepheard, which gaue the weight & course vnto the sling-stone. If in the Wildernesse hee lie hid from Saul by the protection of a rocke, hee will straight confesse that God is the rocke; and ra­ther want an auditory, then a Psalme. If your deuout wit will but mixe his Psalmes with his story, you shall scarce euer find him but figh­ting and singing, or flying and singing, or mourning and singing, or triumphing and singing; but you shall neuer find him in a Psalmelesse action; as if the facultie of laugh­ter were not more the propertie of a man, then a Psalme the property of a godly man; and it is as easily tuned as his affections, nay, it is tu­ned by his affections. These made vp the quite in Dauid's soule; and made the harmony of the soule descend to the sense by the artificiall courtesie of the voice. His voice neither knew nor desired any other song, then the learned repetition of the name of the Lord, which was [Page 17] his onely way of art, by which he should ne­uer be afraid to sing out of tune. The name of the Lord is the Grammar of his nature; which he suffers vs to expresse rather by the alphabet, then the pensill. In this life God reueales him­selfe more to our eare, then our eye; and in the next more to our eye, then our eare. Our sight is a sense not more cleere, then bold, and as neere to idolatry, as to curiositie. God there­fore more often imparts himselfe by his voice, but most often by our voice; whiles hee per­mits our mouthes to bee filled with his name, as our hearts with his loue. And is there any heart or mouth more full of God, then Da­uid's? Is he not full both of his mercies and his prayses? Were not all his deliuerances ad­uanced by the Chronicle and Trophie of a Psalme? Is not Ierusalem as full of his voice, as of his victory? And is hee not himselfe as weary, as glorious? Now therefore this royall Prophet may raigne in peace, and now inioy his thrifty deliuerance. Deliuerance is cheape, when purchased without bloud. Sauls perse­cuting hand is growne as weary as his foote; and with his life he has lost his kingdome and his furie. Absalom is no more, and has left no [Page 18] more of his treason, then the shame: Sheba is cut off, and has neither a head, nor a follower; and in deliuered Ierusalem is a noise of great ioy, as free as the deliuerance: and God vouch­safes to rejoyce for his Dauid's deliuerance; and Dauid is glad of the treason for the deli­uerance. And shall so great a triumph enuy to impart it selfe beyond Ierusalem? Or shall the noise more affect vs, then the joy? Or shall not the happinesse be as farre extended, as the dan­ger? Surely without trauell wee may find as much feare and deliuerance; we haue not one­ly Dauid's Psalme, but himselfe and his God. The first Dauid was persecuted to a prepared destruction; and our second Dauid is inuited to it. The story of which is the Psalme of is And it ought to be custome, as much as con­science to repeate this comfortable state ho­mily; and to point out to posterius the many deliuerances in this one deliuerance which not to performe were to lose this solemnitie, or to confound it with others. You shall see vio­lence armed with secrecie; you shall see gold by the alchymy of treason changed into steele: You shall see a paire of brothers as firmely v­nited by disloyaltie, as by nature. Yet, did I [Page 19] say, you should see brothers? You shall scarce see the elder, who almost hides himselfe as cunningly as his intent; and by the speed of diuine judgement is as soone beheld execu­ted, as guiltie. But the younger shall present and reueale himselfe to you. You shall see his bold heate venter at once vpon maiestie and wisdome: Hee is not daunted with the name or person of a King, no, not of his owne. He is not suspitious of the circumstances of his owne plot; But with blunt humility like his pretended affection he imparts vnto his Soue­reigne a Legend of a solitary man, that he met burdened with melancholy, and a pot full of coyned gold: He tell's how hee suspected, ex­amined, and with profitable secrecie impriso­ned both; beseeching him with a like secrecie and speed to preuent a second discouerie; the man and gold beeing not more strangers to him, then his owne brother was as yet vnto the happinesse. The beginning of the temptation, you see, was from gold: but the mettall was better then the inuention▪ For, what a dull thought was that, to inuite him with wealth, whom neither want nor auarice could euer seize on? But you may be hold this temptation as easily ouercome as resisted; and that made [Page 20] as low as the scorne of a King, which was as high as the desire of a traitour: who was aba­ted by an answere not vnlike that of our Saui­our to the Deuill. The Deuill tempts him to throw himselfe downe from the pinacle; when our Sauiour straight examines not the danger of the action, but the lawfulnesse; telling him, it was written, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God: And in effect thus was this tempter answered. Thou shalt not tempt thy Lord, the King. For straight it was replyed justly by the Law, and skilfully by the Law-giuer, that treasure belongs not to the King, except it bee found hid vnder the earth; so that new treasure onely is the new subject of a King. But see the subtilty of desire! This tempter vr­ges the intention of his secret man, who would haue made his gold as secret. And again behold how hee is corrected by royall mode­stie, and taught the difference betweene hu­mane and diuine Majesty! This is the judge of thoughts, but that, but of actions. But such importunitie might justly mooue the seuerest wisdome to curiositie, and search: And as the greatest vnderstanding is sometimes the cause of the greatest danger: so his Royall per­son [Page 21] could neuer haue beene perswaded into this hazard by the ill-framed Poetry of the gold; but by his owne deepe apprehension. For knowing by inquiry both the coyne and the man to bee vnknowne, judiciously hee sus­pected from the harsh instruction of experi­ence, that it might bee some practising gold hopefully put to vse by a Forreigner with the expectation of interest from the commoditie of a sedition. Yet his Heroique disposition deales with his golden messenger, as with a temptation; he ouercomes him by flight. For being prepared for recreation he gets to horse, leauing his Informer with a halfe-answere be­tweene suspition and neglect: shewing him­selfe couetous of nothing, but of his inno­cent sport. Yet a wise iealousie accompanying his delight mooued him a little to retire, ra­ther to finde out the treason, then the gold. And with the courage of innocencie bee sends for his traitour; who with officious disloyalty attends his Souereigne; and by a wild mixture shewes, that treason and sport are not incom­patible. But this being ended, with most sus­picious and vnmannerly importunity, hee mooues his Majestie to his new journey, with­out [Page 22] the respite of taking a fresh horse. He had before by a pretended necessitie of secrecie depriued him of counsaile, and now he would not willingly let him haue so much as a ser­uiceable beast. But the glory of deliuerance does not admit increase, but by increase of danger. His Majestie yeelds vnto his request and haste, when the man straight makes a new request. For obseruing the Nobles to follow with a faithful and inconuenient speed, hee desires, they should bee sent backe for a time, from this their dutie, and the mysterie: Gold was a Cordiall, that would raise appe­tite; and his thrifty loue would haue the King haue it all. But here his wit was a litle too yong for his treason: desiring both too openly and speedily to disfurnish his Majestie of his Counsaile, his Horse, and his Attendance: who increasing by this, his suspicion with his dan­ger, prouided himselfe of all three. Of all which notwithstanding hee was afterward a­gaine disfurnished vpon intreatie; which ought not to haue failed, least it had made lesse the wonder. When the High Priest's Of­ficers that came to apprehend our Sauiour, were to be strucke downe backward, the Mi­racle [Page 23] did scorne the helpe & disgrace of a wea­pon. But his Majestie being as yet prouided thus, proceeds on; his wisdome and suspicion making vp a censure vpon the man: whose vi­sage was more beholding to nature, then to melancholy, which did disfigure it with varie­tie of passions. The wildnesse of his eye and tongue seemed to accuse him rather of distra­ction then treason, and without art to argue, that his displeased spirit had a lesse Enemy, then a King. A seuere brother might perad­uenture by striuing to make him tame, make him wild, and as much raise his furie as de­presse his delight. His Majestie was attended with this coniecture and the subiect of it: who does solicite him to such mysticall secrecie, as if he mistooke his owne Religion, and had re­uealed it not to a King, but to a Priest. And be­ing almost at the end of his journey, though not of his purpose, hee rides before with as much haste as care to prepare and accompa­ny his brother; with whom, that he might not faile on any side of dissimulation, bee quickly returnes to meet his Majestie. Who being en­tertained with some delay and excuse was fea­sted by a traitour without poyson. It was a [Page 24] rare dulnesse in one that had beene an Italian traueller! But it seemes his Lordship was there so wholy employed in the study of the Ma­gique Character, that he could not intend the drudgerie of poyson. But this great Politician being by his owne reciprocall plot sent out by the King to entertaine the guests; the King is by his familiar traitour admonished of the op­portunity as precious, as the gold. Wherefore onely with his attendance and direction hee passes through a Labyrinth of roomes, as in­tricate as the heart of a Villaine. All which, as they passed through, his attendant lockes with most accurate feare. At last they enter a small Study; and this hee likewise lockes with equall jealousie. Oh, he would faine haue shut­out God and protection! But can contraries rest long together? Or can Majestie bee so pa­tient of treason? The Cloud must breake, and the battell of the Thunder must bee reported. Thus long you haue beheld the man; but now you shall see the violence of the man. And that you may behold the contexture of his treason, now yee shall see the prisoner that hee promised, changed into an Executioner. You shall see a man and a Dagger; weapon [Page 25] enough to make a traitour; and yet you shall behold him almost made innocent by feare. But with as much, though a better feare, you will behold the violent man: who now chan­ges his countenance, when he should change his heart; and increases his treason, by laying aside a great part of it, dissimulation. He now couers his head, when hee deserues rather to lose it; and shewes it to want as much wit, as Loyalty, that did not vnderstand, in what presence it was. After hee had arm'd himselfe thus with his haste and irreuerence, he spoiles his seruāt of his dagger, who would as willing­ly haue beene rid of his master, as of his wea­pon: which when he has, (see a danger fit for a deliuerance!) he holds the point of it to the brest of his King; when the point of his con­science ought to haue wounded his owne brest. And now, alas, the weaknesse of furie! What can thy violence doe now, O violent man? Thinkest thou by thy wilde hand to moue the fixt purpose of the Almighty? Thin­kest thou by thy rashnesse to frustrate the di­uine deliberations of our wisest Henry? Thin­kest thou by thy folly to confound the greatest heire of his wisedome, in whom was to be ac­complished [Page 26] the marriage and glory of two Nations? Alas, vaine hand, that was no more able to change the Successour, then the suc­ccession! But you shall see what he does, or ra­ther heare, what he sayes. His furie beginnes already to faint into words; yet so execrable, as if he would change his treason into blasphe­my, and now threaten God in stead of the King; who must not vpon paine of death open a window, or but his lips to proclaime the traitour. O the peruerse folly of villany, that would giue Lawes to the Law-giuer, and make Maiesty as dumbe, as Treason ought to be! But see more folly yet! This traitour would change himselfe into a judge, and seeme as just as hee is ridiculous. Hee will not haue him die without sentence; and yet he will sen­tence him without witnesse: and so at once accuses him, and pronounces him guiltie of the death of his father. Hee had before viola­ted his Majestie, but now his innocencie. But, O now, to see the power of a King armed with God! Hee tries if hee can tame his fury into sleepe by awaking his conscience; or else to make the point of his Dagger as dull as this. He tels him of the violent eloquence of bloud; [Page 27] which will crie out as loud as conscience: He tels him of the necessary inheritance of re­uenge; which will as certainly find an heire, as his Crowne: He prooues himselfe innocent from the execution of his father by the most innocent argument of Law and Nature; it be­ing done by publike act, which may erre ig­norantly, but neuer boldly; and at that age, which had not mann'd him to the exercise of his right; so that hee was then more his King, then his judge: Hee cals to mind his religion, which might moue some feare: He vnwilling­ly repeates some fauours, which might moue loue, Hee offers secrecie and pardon, which might raise his hope: When behold a tame Traitour! His body has forgot the bargaine of his minde, and beginnes againe to vncouer the head; as if hee would confesse his vnder­standing were conuinced. But it had beene happy if this loyalty had descended from his head to his heart. And yet he vowes, hee will not bee such an execrable Traitour as hee thought to haue beene: now hee will vouch­safe not to murder him. You see the degrees of amendement; hee seemes alreadie to haue reformed his head and his hand. But hee will [Page 28] not as yet leaue off to be King; wherefore lea­uing his Majesty confin'd to silence and ex­pectation, he does appoint him, whom first hee appointed to kill him, now to keepe him. Out hee goes, and lockes them vp toge­ther; perchance to make good his first story of the man imprisoned with a great treasure; though rather the true prisoner was the trea­sure. And can any man imagine now, that in this denne of treason a King should find reue­rence, where his Majesty had no guard but his innocence; nor any subiect but a traitour? Yet, behold this traitour tremble-downe vpon his knees: He had no other way, but this descent of posture, to make the King seeme to bee in a Throne. Prostrate thus hee pleades more for his owne innocence, then for the King's Pardon, protesting himselfe not to know, for what intent he was put there. He had sworne a truth, though hee had not sworne truly; For though hee had knowne, for what purpose his master put him there: yet he litle knew, for what purpose god put him there: which was, without violence to confound violence; and by a duti­full feare to correct & amaze his master. Who speedily returning from his brother with a [Page 29] double fury is vexed with the danger & delay of opening the doore. O how he could haue wished here for our Sauiour's Miracle, to haue entred now the doore being shut! But being entred, his fury is so forward, that hee forgets to shut the doore, which hee feared to open. Now he comes no more to giue sentence, but to execute it; and to beginne, offers to bind his Royall hands. But the violent man mistooke the degree of the execution; This was not to beginne it, but ouer-act it: To bind a King, is to murder Majesty. Which his high Majesty as highly conceiuing, armes himselfe with the magnanimitie of innocence and indignation; and scorning the Traitour as much as death and bondage, grapples with them all. When be hold the earnest Villaine beeing about to mis-vse his hand to his sword, the right hand of the King forceably instructs both his hand and his sword to a better deliberation, his left hand arresting him by the throate: When the violent man, like the Deuill (that sometimes imitates God) practises and enlarges the imi­tation of the King, clasping him so with his left hand by the throate, that part of his fin­gers did violate his sacred mouth. He would [Page 30] by no meanes haue God heare the voyce of the King: hee was himselfe afraid now to heare the voice of the King: But that which should haue beene his least feare, was his greatest; Hee was more afraid of some loyall subiect, then either of God, or the King. Who dragging him from his more retired and guiltie side of the roome, presented part of his Majesty at the window. His Keeper had obediently prepared him this libertie of aire, and now he recouers the like liberty of voyce, proclayming the treason, though not the trai­tour. The Nobles were by this time both feasted and deluded: for missing the King, it was as hard to find direction to find him, as to find him; the elder traitour, as if hee would adde Magique to his treason, causing them to wander in the errour of his circle. And in­deed it proued an errour more to himselfe, then to them; who finde the King, by going the wrong way to find him, by going astray vnder this window. This was the neerest way to his voyce, though not to his person: to which they now doe likewise seeke the neerest way with diuided haste. The most goe the most knowne way, and erre againe; not be­cause [Page 31] it was not the right way, but because it was not the readie way; the doore beeing lock'd with a double key, the one of trea­son, the other of Diuine Prouidence, which would thus increase the glory of the deliue­rance. Which seeming to come slowly, the King striues to meete it, drawing the violent traitour out of the dungeon of the studie to execution. And first to get this stiffe-necked man vnder the yoke of subjection, hee gets his violent head vnder his arme; then to make him crie God and his King mercy, he victoriously brings him vpon his knees; and that hee might still presse neerer to deliue­rance, hee driues this peruerse man backe­ward to destruction; and being about to exe­cute him himselfe with the traitours owne sword, (that hee might perish by his owne sinne and weapon) behold a more easie deli­uerance and judgement come in the faith­full and happy hand of immortall Ramsay; by whose repeated strokes his treason fain­ting-out with his bloud, hee is no longer the combatant, but the scorne of a King: who taking him by the shoulder dishonours him head-long downe the staires; vpon which he [Page 32] is receiued with new wounds; as if after pu­nishment for his treason, they would make him suffer a second death for his furie, and in one brother execute both the traitours. And thus you see, tempted justice can bee as vio­lent as violence; and make treason as accur­sed in the successe as it is in the guilt. Behold the King in safetie alreadie; and are not wee alreadie in a Psalme? No, wee must stay a little; wee haue the cause of joy; but not as yet the leisure of it. For by the same by-way that deliuerance came in, behold new furie marches in, as fierce as despaire, or its owne last agonie. Behold Gowry entring with a drawne sword in each hand; as if the mad­man would haue lent one to his brothers fu­rie: Vpon his head he has a steele bonnet, be­like to defend the fine plot that was in it. His attendants were seuen, a number here as exe­crable, as else-where mysticall; euery one has one drawne sword, and is as much as halfe his leader; who with the preface of death and blasphemie enters the presence of a King: when the King, that had no weapon but his courage, is by the faithfull violence of his few seruants shut-backe into the little study; [Page 33] which, to purchase pardon for its former guilt, that it might not be ruin'd with its ma­ster, is reformed into a place of as vnexpected deliuerance, as it was of danger. And these few Protectors with valour equall to their necessi­tie, receiuing many traitours and wounds did by rare victory Chastize them to example, the compendious hand of happy Ramsay striking Gowry and the Treason through the heart. You see what God has done for his anointed; now heare what his anointed does for him. And you will meruaile at the Royall wit of his pietie: which makes God's blessing the thankes for it selfe. God blessed him highly, when hee first anointed him: and when hee deliuered him, did he not anoint him againe? Yes, now he is anointed with an oyle of glad­nesse; and this gladnesse is the thankes for the anointing. Behold what hee does: Hauing collected himselfe and his dispersed Nobles, he falls on his knees, paying his thankes vnto God with that body, which he had preserued; and in that mindfull manner of humilitie, to which by diuine helpe hee had forc'd his ene­my. And now encircled by his Seruants with loyalty and joy, he is the first Euangelist of his [Page 34] owne deliuerance; as willingly professing the miracle as the victory. The King giues thanks, and God is both his argument and his audi­tor; He lead him about, he instructed him, hee kept him as the apple of his eye. As an Eagle stirres vp the nest, flutters ouer her young, spreades abroad her wings, takes them, beares them on her wings: so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange God with him. And now let the blasphemous Stoicke prede­stinate God, vngratefully abusing his ftee mer­cie by the bondage of Fate. Let the Epicure conceiue a Prouidence more delicate then his owne fansie, and with ridiculous impietie busie himselfe about his lazie God, who lyes retired from the prospect and fable of the world. Let the patrones of treason with impo­tent malice still deny this treason, and bee guiltie of it. Let them for euer enuie, and in­crease our joy. Let them be angry with God's mercy and his King: And thy King, O Lord, shall prooue his deliuerance by his thankful­nesse; and thy King, O Lord, shall prooue the integritie of his thankfulnesse by thy jealou­sie; and thy King, O Lord, shall prooue him­selfe safe from thy angry jealousie by the con­tinuance [Page 35] of thy mercy. Heare an argument as hard to be deluded as the Almighty. The jea­lous God has since deliuered his anointed from the admirable danger of the Powder-treason; therefore hee does delight in the gratefull institution of this dayes vnfained thankfulnesse. And this thankfulnesse shall be told, no doubt, in time vnto the Heathen, vnto our Heathen, who are ordained to con­uersion and this joy by the instruction of our Virginian Apostles. And we ought to rejoyce with a great joy, as confident as the fury of this treason. And wee ought to vnderstand the greatnesse of this joy, without which wee had heard no more noyse of the Powder-plot, then by rare mercy we did of the Powder. Besides here the Dagger was at the breast of a King, and there was bloud-shed in this wonderfull deliuerance; but in that, though most won­derfull, the Powder did not desperately be­tray it selfe into a flame. And we ought not to leaue out our thankes and honour vnto him, whom God's choice brought-in as the hono­rable instrument of this deliuerance. But what monument shall we prouide for him? Should we lay-vp his sword, like the sword of Goliah? [Page 36] Alas, that were to preserue rust as well as fame. Should we erect a Statue? Why, that will proue as mortall as his body. Sure then, we will fasten this labell to the mouth of fame, wheresoeuer the Gospell of the deliuerance from Gowry shall bee preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that Ramsay has done, be told for a memoriall of him. And for our Lord the King, what glory shall wee giue vnto him? Surely, wee must acknowledge him the friend of God, the fauovrite of the Almighty; whom God has reserued as the great example, wherewith hee will instruct this later World! Whom hee has proposed as the proofe and subject of his Almightie mer­cie! Whom he preserued for the vniting of the Britainies, a worke that required no lesse pre­face then this Miracle! Wee haue heard the la­mentations of our neighbours, the bloud of whose King was suffered to bee shed like their teares; whiles we haue enjoyed our King and our selues! Happy art thou, O Israel; who is like vnto thee, O people? saued by the Lord, the shield of thy helpe, and who is the sword of thy excellency. The King liues, and his people must reioyce! and euery street must [Page 37] professe the flaming embleme of this affecti­on! and the loudest musique of our Temples must recompence their inarticulate thankes by repetition! The King liues and his people must rejoyce: Awake Psalterie and Harpe; awake, Deborah, awake, vtter a Song: Arise, Barak, and lead thy captiuity captiue. The King liues, and we must rejoyce. His God did not let his enemie exact vpon him; nor the sonne of wickednesse afflict him: But has ex­alted his horne like the horne of an Vnicorne; he has anointed him with fresh oyle. His ene­mie bowed at his feet, he fell, hee lay downe; at his feet he bowed, he fell; where he bowed, there he fell downe destroyed. The friends of Gowrie whispered among themselues, why is he so long in comming? Why is the report of his triumph so slow? His wise Counsailours answered, yea, their feare returned answere to them; Haue they not killed? Haue they not di­uided to euery man a Prouince? To Gowrie a Crowne set with royall Diamonds; with roy­all Diamonds set with curious worke, to bee fitted for the brow of him that takes the spoile? So let all the enemies of the King perish, O Lord! and let the treason of this day bee the [Page 38] triumph and instruction of our Nephewes! And let the deliuerance of this day bee made as glorious as the Conspiracie was secret! To the God of this day, the God of our Dauid bee ascribed the joy and glorie of this day.

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