THE SIXTH MIRACLE.

A man cured that was bedrid with the palsy, and at the point of death.

LUKE vii. 1, &c.

Jesus entered into Capernaum. And a certain centurion's servant, who was dear unto him, was sick, and ready to die, &c.

WHAT this sickness of the centurion's servant was, St. Matthew tells us, chap. viii. 5, 6, where he says, that when Jesus entered into Capernaum, there came unto him a centurion, beseeching him, and saying, Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, grievously tormented; and this distemper, it seems, had been so long upon him, that he was just ready to die of it, and therefore not capable of being brought to Jesus.

This sad condition of his servant, whom a long and faithful attendance had very much endeared to him, and for whom, no doubt, he had tried all methods of cure, he lays before our Lord, of whose fame it is said he had heard; and with revived hopes, humbly begs his help who had never failed. of success.

But St. Matthew says the centurion himself came to Jesus and besought him; whereas St. Luke here tells us that he sent the elders of the Jews to him, and other friends, as to desire his mercy towards his servant, so to excuse his not coming in person to

beg it of him, upon account of his unworthiness, being a Gentile, to approach so great a Prophet.

Now this seeming inconsistency may easily be removed, by making up the relation of this miracle out of both the evangelists; and it will then be this: when the centurion had first made way for his address, by such as he might suppose Jesus would receive more favourably than he would a Roman soldier who was a stranger to him, and had desired them to acquaint him with what character he had amongst them, which would come with more decency from their mouths than his own; upon our Lord's being pleased to say that he would come and heal his servant, the centurion's great modesty and humility put him upon sending others of his friends to prevent that trouble, and let Jesus know that he could not deserve or expect so great an honour; but when, for all this, he still kept on his way towards his house, at last he himself came to meet him as he drew near, and told him how unworthy he thought himself to receive so great a guest, and for the same reason did not at first wait on him; and then, with an extraordinary faith, which our Lord himself admired at, he thus bespoke him: Lord, speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed. For I also am a man set under authority, having soldiers under me; and I say unto one, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh ; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it.

Having thus reconciled the evangelists to each other, the first thing we shall observe in this miracle is, that this excellent person who had so tender a concern for his sick servant, and behaved himself with so much modesty and humility towards our

Saviour, and had so great a sense of religion too as to build a synagogue a, was a soldier, a captain of a company of Romans quartered at Capernaum, and himself a heathen, and at most only a proselyte of the gate, such a one as Cornelius was, (Acts x. 1.) who, though he had not embraced the whole Jewish religion, yet had renounced the worship of the heathen gods, and was a devout, or pious man, and one that feared God with all his house, and gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway.

What a lovely character is here of two that were men of the sword, as we call them! officers, and those not of the highest rank, but such as were quartered up and down, sometimes in one place, sometimes in another, to awe the conquered Jews, and keep them in a quiet obedience to their new governors; under the temptations of idleness and ease, and who had power in their hands to defend what irregularities they should be guilty of towards a despised and vanquished people.

And the character is the more surprising, because men of that profession too generally deserve one of another kind, nay, and justify it too, as most proper for men of their way; and, which is worse still, ridicule any thing of pity and compassion, and a modest, humble deportment, and pious sense of religion, as meanness of spirit, and cowardice.

As if courage consisted in hectoring and making a noise, in lewdness and debauchery, in a surly haughtiness and unrelenting cruelty of disposition; and that whoever would be a good soldier must be a very bad man, and a worse Christian.

But this is all over a very great mistake, and

a Luke vii. 5.

there is no true courage but what is founded in virtue; and with the Romans, the same word virtus signifies both and their etymologists derive it from virò, a man, intimating, that nothing is truly good and brave but what is agreeable to the excellency of the human nature, and preserves the honour of it unsullied with base and brutish practices.

To roar and rave, and do all the mischief they can, without regard to any thing of humanity and virtue, is no better than the rage and fierceness of a lion or a tiger, and very far from courage; which is a rational and manly thing, and by consequence the reputation of it can never be justly gained by any unreasonable and inhuman actions.

And accordingly it is always observed, that men of the greatest and most generous spirits are the most gentle and kind and good; apt to be touched with the tenderest passions, not at all insulting and imperious, but humble and modest, and what we call by a very proper and expressive word, humane. As if none could behave themselves so much like men as those that have least of the fierceness of brutes, and of the pride and malice and mischief of the Devil.

Courage is opposed to fear, and consists in such a due contempt of hardship, and danger, and pain, and even of death itself, as that we can with firmness and resolution of mind venture our fortunes, our liberty, and our lives, and bravely part with them too, in our religion's or our country's service and defence. But who are so likely to be thus above the fears of death, and what may probably lead to

b A viro virtus appellata est, viri autem maxime propria est fortitudo. Cic. ii. Tusc. Quæst.

it, as those whose sincere good life gives them a well grounded hope of a happy immortality? What is it that makes a man so indifferent to the world, as not to value any thing in it in comparison with a good and quiet conscience, but the expectation of infinitely better things hereafter?

And accordingly how truly great was the bravery of that noble army of martyrs, who, for the sake of Jesus and his truth, undauntedly suffered the most exquisite torments, and that deliberately and in cool blood, when the saying a few words, or throwing a little incense into the fire, would have procured their ease and safety! And yet gentleness, and meekness, and humility, and all the softer affections of human nature, were very remarkable likewise in all their carriage, even to their cruel and inveterate enemies.

Natural courage, indeed, that is, briskness and heat of temper, kept up by full feed, and raised by example, and the sound of warlike instruments, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting, may for a while inspirit a man to a forgetfulness of danger, and make him rush into the battle rejoicing in his strength, marching on to meet the armed men, and mocking at fear, and scorning to turn back from the sword; but this is the very description that is given in the Book of Job of the courage of a horse; another sort of courage becomes the man that rides him, such as will continue when every thing else fails, be more confirmed by hazards and hardship, and even in extremis make him more than conqueror.

When all is done, the best man, much more the best Christian, must needs make the best soldier. c Job xxxix. 17.