And Abimelech said unto Abraham, What sawest thou, that thou hast done this thing? And Abraham said, because I thought, surely the fear of God is not in this place ; and they will slag me for my wife's sake.

ABRAHAM, having occasion to remove

from Mamre toward the southern part of the land of Canaan, to a place called Gerar, of which Abimelech was king, adopted, for the security of his life, the same expedient which he had once before used in Egypt. He desired his wife to disguise the relation between them, and to call him her brother, and he also agreed to call her his sister, lest some of the people, tempted by her beauty, should kill him for her sake.

From so good a man, and one who had so often experienced the divine protection, we should not have expected an artifice like this; especially as the result, on a former trial, had taught him how

unnecessary it was. But the best men have their weaknesses; and in men, whose faith is ordinarily strong, fear will sometimes prevail.

Abimelech, supposing Sarah to be only Abraham's sister, sent and took her into his house, with an intention, not to dishonour her, but to make her his wife.

Before he had accomplished this design, God, by a dream in the night, warned him of the dangerous step which he was meditating, and directed him to restore the woman to Abraham, whose wife she

was.

The king, after professing the innocence of his intentions, calls for Abraham, and thus expostulates with him on the unjustifiable deception which he had used. "What hast thou done to us? and, What have I offended thee, that thou hast brought on me, and on my kingdom, a great sin?" i. e. exposed us to a great scandal and calamity. "Thou hast done deeds to me, which ought not to be done. What sawest thou, that thou hast done this thing?" Abraham answers, I did this, " because I thought, surely the fear of God is not in this place, and they will slay me for my wife's sake." However, he says, the relation which they had professed, was not altogether fictitious; for "she was the daughter of his father, though not the daughter of his mother." She was his father's grand daughter; and, in the language of scripture, grandchildren are often called children. Sarai, who in the elev. enth chapter is called Iscah, was daughter to Haran, Abraham's elder brother. It seems, by this account, that Terah, Abraham's Father, had two wives, from one of whom was born Haran, the father of Lot and Sarai, or Iscah, and from the other was born Abraham. So that she was daughter to Abraham's half brother. And with such a niece, it was, in those days, thought not unlawful to mar

But though Abraham's account of their relation, was, according to the language of the times, liter. ally true; yet his concealment of the more delicate and important relation, could not, on the reason assigned, be justified. For surely he ought not to have gone voluntarily among a people, where he apprehended no regard would be paid to the conjugal rights: Or, if he was called in providence to sojourn among them, he might have trusted to divine protection.

This incident, in the history of Abraham's life, will afford us some useful observations.

I. The atrocious nature of the sin of adultery, which consists in violating connubial rights, is here represented in a very striking manner.

Though Abraham supposed that there was no sense of God and religion among the people of Gerar, yet he seems not to have entertained the least suspicion, that they would insult the honour of his family, either by rape or seduction. His apprehension was, that they would kill him for his wife's sake. He imagined, that no man could be so abandoned, as to take his wife from him, or debauch her, while she was alive; but he was much afraid, there were men bad enough to murder him, that they might have liberty to enjoy her.

Abraham evidently considers adultery as a crime far more horrid in its nature, and far more contrary to the dictates of natural reason and conscience, than even murder itself. His whole conduct, in this, and the former instance, is grounded on the supposition, that a ruffian, who is bloody enough to assassinate an innocent man, yet may not be so brutal as to violate a married woman. The man who can do the latter, in a deliberate and customary manner, is undoubtedly capable of any kind of wickedness, to which he feels the smallest temptation.

Murder is generally considered as one of the blackest crimes of which a man can be guilty. But it is observable, that, by the divine law, the same penalty is annexed to adultery, as to murder: And, perhaps, of the two, it is the greater crime. It certainly indicates a more depraved state of mind. Murder may be the effect of high provocation, or sudden passion. The other proceeds from a settled, habitual viciosity of heart. And in its consequences no species of villany can be more mischievousmore fatal. It is contrary to the peace and order of society-both of particular families, and of larger communities. It is an unprovoked, and irreparable injury to men, in those rights of which they are most jealous. It robs them of that comfort and enjoyment, which they value no less than life, and without which life is hardly supportable. It extends its baleful effects to the innocent offspring, and dooms them, without their fault, to infamy and misery. It is a violation of the most sacred and solemn vows. It tramples in the dust the honour and the happiness, not of a single person, or family only, but of many persons, and of divers families. It awakens grief, anxiety, and perpetual jealousy; excites hatred, malice, and revenge; sometimes leads to the deliberate murder of the tender offspring, and of the injured party; and, on the other hand, provokes to the violent assassination of the infamous invader. In a word, it involves in it the guilt of injustice, fraud, cruelty and perjury; yea, and murder too, if not in the immediate act, yet in the remoter effects, as it taints and poisons the sweetest joys of life.

Such is the horrid criminality of this evil, that every resolved offender must be viewed as thoroughly depraved, and presumptuously wicked, and be held in detestation and abhorrence by all the lovers of virtue, and friends of human society. His concern for the rights of mankind is absorbed in his own lawless gratifications. His regard to the Deity is totally lost in sensuality. His social and benevo lent affections are extinguished in the polluted sink of brutal indulgence.

Such a depraved libertine cannot be supposed to possess a single principle of virtue or honour; or to be secure from any vice, if only a temptation should offer itself. Joseph, solicited to this crime, rejected the proposal with the strongest abhorrence. "My master," says he to the lewd enchantress, "knoweth not what is with me in the house, and hath committed all that he hath into mine hand, neither hath he kept back any thing from me, but thee, because thou art his wife; How then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God ?" His words import, that a man, who feels in his heart any fear of the presence of God, or any regard to the rights of his fellow men, cannot deliberately perpetrate so vile an action.

David, in his penitent reflections on this sin, and the murder which followed, prays, "Create in me a clean heart-deliver me from blood, thou God of my salvation. Thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it.. The sacrifices of God are a broken heart."

In the case of Abimelech, God says, "The woman, whom thou hast taken, is a man's wife; and unless thou restore her, thou shalt surely die." From this moment he indulged not a single thought of retaining her in his house. And such a sense. had his people of the sacredness of the conjugal relation, that, when they heard of the unhappy errour, into which their prince had fallen, they were in painful anxiety for the consequences. To wipe. off, as far as possible, the reproach brought on the community by this transaction, the king avowed the innocence of his intentions, immediately restor