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THE 
GREAT   TEXTS   OF   THE    BIBLE 


We  must  preach  more  upon  the  great  texts 

of  the   Scriptures,   the  tremendous    passages 

whose    vastnesses    almost    terrify    us   as    we 

approach  them. 

J.  H.  JOWETT. 


THE  GREAT  T®|gl> 
OF  THE  BIBLE 


EDITED   BY   THE   REV. 

JAMES  ^HASTINGS,  D.D. 

EDITOR  OF    "THE   EXPOSITORY  TIMES"    "THE   DICTIONARY  OF  THE   BIBLE ' 

"THE    DICTIONARY    OF    CHRIST    AND    THE    GOSPELS"    AND 

"THE  ENCYCLOPEDIA  OF  RELIGION  AND  ETHICS" 


GENESIS  to  NUMBERS 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES   SGRIBNER'S   SONS 

EDINBURGH :  T.  &  T.  CLARK 

1911 


/ 


CONTENTS 


TOPICS. 

rAGB 

The  Creation  and  the  Creator         .....        1 

Let  There  be  Light 

.       25 

In  the  Image  op  God     . 

.       43 

Fellowship   . 

.      69 

The  Conflict  of  the  Ages 

.      89 

The  Tree  of  Life 

111 

Am  I  MY  Brother's  Keeper? 

129 

Walking  with  God 

149 

The  Kainbow 

.     165 

The  Proving  of  Abraham 

.     181 

The  Bartered  Birthright 

.    201 

Jacob's  Vision 

217 

Spiritual  Wrestling 

.    229 

Shiloh 

.     245 

The  Burning  Bush 

259 

The  Eternal  Name 

275 

Forward  ! 

.    289 

Life  in  God's  Presence 

301 

Unconscious  Glory 

319 

The  Continual  Fire 

.    331 

The  Scapegoat     . 

351 

Come  with  Us 

367 

Look  and  Live     . 

387 

The  Death  to  Die 

.    409 

Sin  the  Detective 

429 

vi 


CONTENTS 


L  1 

I.  2,  3 

I.  26,  27 
III.  8,  9 
m.  15 

III.  24 

IV.  9 
V.  24 

IX.  13 

XXII.  1,  2 

XXV.  34 

XXVIII.  16,  17 

XXXII.  24 

XLIX.  10 


TEXTS. 

Genesis. 


PAGII 

3 

27 

45 

71 

91 

113 

131 

151 

167 

183 

203 

219 

231 

247 


VI.  18 

XVI.  22 


Exodus. 


III.  2 

•            .            -            •            . 

.    261 

III.  13,  14     . 

•            • 

.    277 

XIV.  15 

. 

.    291 

XXXIII.  14 

.            . 

.    303 

XXXIV.  29 

Leviticus. 

.    321 

333 
353 


Numbers. 

X.  29-31       .... 
XXI.  8,  9  (St.  John's  Gospel  iii.  14,  15) 
XXIII.  10  .... 

XXXII.  23  .... 


369 
S89 
411 
431 


The  Creation  and  the  Creator. 


GKN.-NUM. — I 


Literature. 

Alford  (H.),  Qtubee  Ghapel  Sermons,  iv.  1 . 

Bacon  (L.  W.),  The  Simplicity  that  is  in  Ghritt,  196. 

Brandt  (J.  L.),  Soul  Sa/uing,  41. 

Brooke  (S.  A.),  Sermons,  i.  222. 

Flint  (R.),  Sermxma  and  Addresses,  56. 

Forbes  (A.  P.),  Sermons  on  the  Grace  of  God,  183. 

Fotheringliani  (D.  R.),  The  Writing  on  the  Sky,  1. 

Gibson  (E.  C.  S.),  Messages  from  the  Old  Testament,  1. 

Hiley  (R.  W.),  A  Year's  Sermons,  i.  85. 

Kingsley  (C),  The  Gospel  of  the  Pentateucht  1. 

Liddon  (H.  P.),  University  Sermon*,  ii.  38. 

„  Sermons  at  St.  Paul's,  1. 

Lockyer  (T.  F.),  The  Inspirations  of  the  Christian  Life,  1. 
Middleton  (W.),  Alpha  and  Omega,  15. 
Parker  (J.),  City  Temple  Pulpit,  vii.  3,  128. 

„  The  City  Temple,  i.  (1872)  56. 

Pattison  (T.  H.),  The  South  Wind,  275. 
Pearse  (M.  Q.),  Some  Aspects  of  the  Blessed  Life,  17. 
Reicbel  (C.  P.),  Sermons,  143. 
Selby  (T.  Q.),  The  God  of  the  Patriarchs,  23. 
Shore  (T.  T.),  Som^  Difficulties  of  Belief,  103. 
Terry  (G.  F.),  The  Old  Theology  in  the  New  Age,  43. 
Vaughan  (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  xv.  (1877)  No.  1034. 
Waller  (C.  B.),  Two  Sermons,  1. 
Wilberforce  (B.),  The  Hope  that  is  in  Me,  193. 
Wilson  (J.  M.),  Rochdale  Sermons,  79. 
Christian  Age,  xxxv.  306  (Growden). 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  xii.  333  (Peabody) ;  xvii.  249  (Gibberd) ;  xxvii. 

123(Taft);  xlv.  108  (Law);  1.  211  (Ryle) ;  Ixi.  212  (Jones);  Ixix. 

92  (M'Cleery) ;  Ixxii.  307  (Shelford)  ;  Ixxiii.  133  (Fotheringham). 
Church  of  England  Pulpit,  Ix.  142  (Lightfoot)  ;  Ixi.  223  (Jackson)  ;  Ixiii. 

118  (Shelford),  130  (Fotheringham). 
Churchman's  Pulpit  (Trinity  Sunday),  ix.  270  (Shelford) ;  (Sermons  to 

the  Young)  xvi.  100  (Vaughan). 
Preacher's  Magaaine,  ii.  (1891)  120  (Watson). 


The  Creation  and  the  Creator. 

In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth.— Gen.  i.  i. 

This  is  a  sublime  sentence  with  which  the  Bible  opens.  Will 
the  sentences  that  follow  be  in  keeping  with  the  musical  throb 
and  stately  massiveness  of  these  opening  words  ?  Even  when 
we  regard  the  book  simply  as  a  monument  of  literature  we 
find  it  impossible  to  conceive  a  more  appropiiate  introduction 
than  this :  "  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the 
earth."  Yet  the  end  is  not  less  majestic  than  the  beginning: 
"  And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth :  for  the  first  heaven 
and  the  first  earth  are  passed  away." 

^  How  should  we  approach  the  study  of  a  book  which  opens 
and  closes  with  words  of  such  sublimity?  There  is  a  sentence 
or  two  in  the  preface  to  John  Wesley's  first  volume  of  sermons, 
in  which  the  great  evangelist  gives  us  the  secret  of  his  method  of 
Bible-study.  "  Here  am  I,"  he  says,  "  far  from  the  busy  ways 
of  men.  I  sit  down  alone  ;  only  God  is  here.  In  His  presence 
I  open,  I  read  His  Book ;  for  this  end — to  find  the  way  to  heaven. 
Does  anything  appear  dark  or  intricate  ?  I  lift  my  heart  to  the 
Father  of  Lights.  I  then  search  after  and  consider  parallel 
passages  of  Scripture,  comparing  spiritual  things  with  spiritual. 
I  meditate  thereon  with  aU  the  attention  and  earnestness  of 
which  my  mind  is  capable.  And  what  I  thus  learn,  that  I  teach." 
To  Wesley,  then,  there  were  two  great  realities — the  visible  Book, 
and  its  invisible  but  ever-present  Author ;  and  to  a  man  of  his 
training  and  susceptibilities  the  one  would  have  been  an  enigma 
without  the  other.  He  saw  God  at  the  beginning  of  every  section 
of  Holy  Scripture. 

Let  us  attempt  to  explain  this  great  but  difficult  text  by 
considering — 

L  The  Creation. 

i  The  meaning   of  "In  the   beginning,"   and   of  "the 
heaven  and  the  earth." 


4  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

ii.  The  idea  in  the  word  "  created." 
iii.  Other  explanations  of  the  origin  of  the  world, 
iv.  In  what  sense  God  continues  to  create. 

II.  The  Creator. 

i.  What  does  Creation  tell  us  about  the  Creator  ? 
ii.  What  other  works  of  God  follow  from  Creation  ? 

1.  Providence. 

2.  Kedemption. 

iii  Three  things  in  Creation  to  encourage  us, 

I. 

The  Creation. 
i.  Two  Phrases. 

1.  '*  In  the  beginning  "  does  not  mean  here  "  from  all  eternity." 
There  is  no  "  beginning "  in  eternity.  It  means  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  existing  universe  as  conditioned  by  time.  The 
expression  is  used  in  precisely  the  same  sense  in  the  prologue 
of  St.  John's  Gospel,  the  difference  between  the  opening  of 
Genesis  and  the  opening  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  being  due  to 
the  use  of  the  verbs.  In  the  beginning — that  is,  of  the  things 
which  we  see  and  among  which  our  human  history  unfolds 
itself — God  created  the  universe.  In  the  same  beginning  the 
Word  was,  as  existing  from  all  eternity.  WTien  the  beginning 
was  we  are  not  told ;  it  may  have  been  thousands  or  millions  of 
years  ago  ;  but  there  was  a  beginning.     Matter  is  not  eternal. 

^  When  I  was  a  student  at  college,  the  standard  book  on 
divinity  which  was  put  into  our  hands  was  Bishop  Pearson's 
Exposition  of  the  Creed,  in  which  it  was  laid  down  as  quite  an 
authoritative  statement  that  heaven  and  earth  were  created  most 
certainly  within  not  more  than  six,  or,  at  the  farthest,  seven, 
thousand  years  from  the  age  in  which  we  were  living.  Astro- 
nomers who  have  gone  into  this  question,  however,  now  say  that 
the  time  when  the  moon  became  separated  from  the  earth — an 
event  which  might  be  regarded  as  the  commencement  of  the 
earth's  history — could  not  be  placed  at  any  period  less  than 
fifty-seven  millions  of  years  ago.  Even  the  historians  find  records 
of  men  living  in  a  high  state  of  civilization  more  than  eight 
thousand  years  ago — and  that  state  of  civilization  must  itself  have 
taken  long  centuries  for  its  development.     Similarly,  the  geologist, 


GENESIS  I.   I  5 

when  he  tries  to  read  the  book  of  Nature,  finds,  in  the  relics  of 
the  river-drift  man,  evidences  that  man  had  existed  on  this  earth 
more  than  twenty  thousand  years.^ 

2.  "  The  heaven  and  the  earth "  does  not  mean  the  chaotic 
mass,  the  rough  material,  so  to  speak,  but  the  whole  cosmos,  the 
universe  as  it  appears  in  its  present  order.  This  is  the  common 
mode  of  expression  in  Hebrew  for  what  we  call  the  universe. 
The  nearest  approach  to  this  idea  of  "universe"  is  found  in 
Jer.  X.  16,  where  the  English  versions  have  "  all  things,"  the 
Hebrew  being  literally  "  the  whole."  Taking  the  first  verse  as 
complete  in  itself,  we  have  here  the  broad  general  statement  of 
creation;  then  follows  the  early  dark,  empty,  lifeless  condition, 
not  of  the  whole,  but  of  the  earth ;  and  then  the  gradual 
preparation  of  the  earth  to  be  the  abode  of  man.  The  history 
of  the  visible  heavens  and  earth  is  bound  together  throughout 
Scripture  till  the  final  consummation,  when  the  heavens  shall 
be  rolled  together  as  a  scroll :  the  earth  also  and  the  works 
that  are  therein  shall  be  burned  up,  to  make  way  for  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness. 

•[j  The  conception  which  we  express  by  the  term  "  universe " 
is  usually  expressed  in  the  Old  Testament  by  this  phrase,  "  the 
heaven  and  the  earth."  But  there  is  a  still  more  complete 
expression :  "  heaven  above,  earth  beneath,  and  the  water  under 
the  earth"  (Ex,  xx.  4),  A  similar  phrase  is  found  on  the 
Assyrian  Creation-tablet :  "  the  heaven  above,  the  earth  beneath  " 
(line  1),  and  "  the  ocean  "  (line  3). 

ii.  The  Idea  in  Creation. 
It  cannot  be  proved  that  the  word  translated  "  created  "  means 
etymologically  to  create  out  of  nothing.  It  is  common  to  all  the 
Semitic  languages,  and  may  be  connected  either  with  a  root 
meaning  "  to  cut "  and  "  fashion  by  cutting,"  the  material  so  cut 
or  fashioned  being  already  in  existence ;  or  perhaps  with  a  root 
signifying  "  to  set  free,"  "  to  let  go  forth,"  "  to  cause  to  appear." 
It  is  in  favour  of  this  latter  derivation  that  the  word  is  never 
followed,  like  other  words  denoting  "  to  form,"  "  to  fashion,"  and 
the  like,  by  the  accusative  of  the  material  out  of  which  the  thing 
is  fashioned,  (See  the  striking  use  of  the  word  in  Num.  xvi.  30, 
"  If  Jehovah  should  create  a  creation.")     But  the  word,  whatever 

» J,  lifghtfoot. 


6  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

be  its  derivation,  is  never  used  except  of  a  Divine  act ;  and  it  is 
quite  certain  that  the  writer  intends  to  convey  the  impression  of 
a  creation  called  into  existence  out  of  nothing  by  the  voice  and 
will  of  God.  "  In  the  beginning  God  created."  Before  "  the 
beginning"  no  material  thing  existed.  God  called  all  that  is 
into  existence.  This  is  the  sense  in  which  the  words  were 
understood  by  the  earliest  commentators,  the  Hebrew  poets.  So  in 
Ps.  xxxiii.  9,  "  For  he  spake,  and  it  was  "  (came  into  being) ;  and 
Ps.  cxlviii.  5,  "  He  commanded,  and  they  were  created."  So,  too,  in 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  xi.  3,  "  By  faith  we  understand  that 
the  worlds  have  been  framed  by  the  word  of  God,  so  that  what 
is  seen  hath  not  been  made  out  of  things  which  do  appear."  The 
creation,  then,  was  no  operation  wrought  upon  pre-existent 
matter,  neither  is  it  an  emanation  from  a  Divine  substance.  The 
Hebrew  cosmogony  has  no  tinge  in  it  either  of  dualism  or  of 
pantheism.  God  is  the  eternal,  self-subsistent  Being;  "He  is 
before  all  things,  and  by  him  all  things  consist."  Moreover,  on 
its  first  page  the  Hebrew  Scripture  asserts  clearly  the  unity  of 
the  Godhead.  There  are  no  rival  deities  here,  each  exercising  an 
independent  power,  and  claiming  separate  worship :  God  is  one. 

If  The  idea  in  the  word  cannot  be  defined  with  precision,  but 
the  following  points  are  to  be  noted :  (a)  the  moat  important  fact 
is  that  it  is  used  exclusively  of  Divine  activity — a  restriction 
to  which  perhaps  no  parallel  can  be  found  in  other  languages. 
(b)  The  idea  of  novelty  or  extraordinariness  of  result  is  frequently 
implied,  and  it  is  noteworthy  that  this  is  the  case  in  the  only 
two  passages  of  certainly  early  date  where  the  word  occurs,  (c)  It 
is  probable  also  that  it  contains  the  idea  of  effortless  production 
(such  as  befits  the  Almighty)  by  word  or  volition  (Ps.  xxxiii.  9). 
(d)  The  facts  just  stated,  and  the  further  circumstance  that  the 
word  is  used  always  with  accusative  of  product  and  never  of 
material,  constitute  a  long  advance  towards  the  full  theological 
doctrine  of  creation  out  of  nothing,  and  make  the  word  "  create  " 
a  suitable  vehicle  for  it.^ 

1  This  is  not  a  philosophical  account  of  the  Creation.  There 
is  no  such  thing  in  the  Bible.  Wisdom,  among  the  Israelites, 
developed  herself  in  quite  a  different  direction  from  the  philosophy 
of  the  Greeks.  She  did  not  give  herself  up  to  speculations  upon 
the  origin  and  nature  of  things.  This  one  word,  resplendent  with 
light,  lying  at  the  foundation  of  all  the  Jewish  conceptions,  set 

•  J.  Skinner,  Genesis,  15. 


GENESIS  I.  I  7 

their  minds  at  rest  upon  these  matters :  "  In  the  beginning  God 
created  the  heaven  and  the  earth."  Hence  the  greater  minds 
among  the  Jews  directed  their  thoughts  to  the  problems  of 
practical  life.  The  result  of  these  labours  is  given  us  in  five 
books,  which  form,  as  it  were,  the  code  of  the  Hebrew  wisdom. 
The  subjects  treated  in  them  relate,  not  to  the  study  of  Being, 
but  to  the  purely  practical  question  of  right  living;  they  even 
exhaust  it.  These  books  are—Job,  in  which  is  revealed  the  art  of 
suffering  well ;  the  Psalms,  which  give  us  a  model  of  true  prayer ; 
Proverbs,  in  which  is  taught  the  art  of  acting  rightly  in  all 
circumstances ;  Ecclesiastes,  which  treats  of  the  right  manner  of 
enjoying  the  good  things  granted  to  man  here  below ;  and  finally, 
in  the  Song  of  Songs,  the  wisdom  of  the  Israelites  rises  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  supreme  art — that  of  true  and  pure  love} 

iii.  Other  Explanations. 

What  are  the  alternative  explanations  of  the  origin  of  the 
world  ?     Three  may  be  named — 

I.  Materialism. — Materialism  tells  us  that  the  Universe  is 
eternal  and  self -existent.  The  Universe  exists,  because  it 
exists.  God,  of  course,  it  leaves  out  of  the  question  altogether. 
It  holds  Him  to  have  no  real  existence.  He  is  pronounced  to  be 
a  creature  of  the  human  imagination,  the  product  of  the  human 
heart  at  a  particular  stage  of  its  development.  In  its  most 
elaborated  modern  form.  Materialism  proposes  to  substitute  two 
self-existent  factors  for  the  God  of  Heaven,  two  blind,  all- 
powerful  agencies — Matter  and  Force.  It  pronounces  the 
Universe  to  be  the  result  of  innumerable  combinations  of  self- 
existent  force  with  self-existent  matter;  and  it  maintains  that 
while  the  quantity  of  this  eternally  existing  force  is  invariable, 
force  can  transform  itself  into  light,  into  heat,  into  electricity,  into 
magnetism ;  it  is,  by  turns,  weight,  affinity,  cohesion,  mechanism. 
It  is  inherent  in  matter ;  it  is  light  and  heat  in  the  suns  and  in  the 
fixed  stars ;  it  is  mechanical  impulse  in  planets  which  move  around 
a  central  globe;  it  is  cohesion  or  magnetism  in  the  ponderable 
material  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  Its  action  is  regulated  by 
uncreated,  self-existent  laws. 

IF  I  do  not  ask  whether  we  can  listen  to  a  system  which  gives 
the  lie,  both  to  the  heart  and  to  the  conscience,  to  some  of  the 
deepest  and  profoundest  aspirations  of  which  man  is  conscious. 

>  F.  Godet. 


8  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

But  I  bid  you  look  out  for  one  moment  upon  the  Universe  and 
ask  yourselves  if  the  materialistic  account  of  its  existence  is 
even  rational.  That  quick-witted  and  thoughtful  people  of 
antiquity,  the  Greeks,  gave  it  a  name  which  has  lasted  until 
modern  times ;  they  called  it  the  Cosmos.  They  meant  by  that 
word  that  upon  the  face  of  the  Universe  there  is  stamped 
beyond  everything  else  the  imprint  of  an  harmonious  beauty. 
It  meets  the  eye,  it  falls  upon  the  ear  of  man,  this  harmony  of 
nature;  it  is  no  fancy  impression  which  we  gain  from  that 
splendid  spectacle  of  universal  order.  But  why  should  this 
harmony  exist?  Why  do  we  behold  this  regularity,  this 
concerted  and  orderly  movement  of  universal  existence?  If 
blind  force  and  blind  matter  are  the  only  ultimate  factors  of 
existence,  why  should  chaos  ever  have  terminated  in  a  reign  of 
such  harmonious  and  perfect  order?  Materialism  replies  that 
force  moulds  matter  in  obedience  to  laws.  But  law  implies  a 
legislator,  and  the  question  is,  Who  has  created  the  laws  ?  Why 
do  these  laws  exist  and  no  other  ?  Has  any  one  presided  over 
that  perpetual  intercommunion  of  force  with  matter,  and  guided 
it  by  law  to  a  result  of  such  singular  beauty  ?  Atheism  smiles 
at  us  Christians  when  we  ask  this  question,  and  replies,  "  A 
chance."  Out  of  millions  upon  millions  of  chances  that  it 
might  have  been  otherwise,  one  chance  has  carried  the  day; 
it  has  issued  in  the  reign  of  order;  it  has  eventuated  in  the 
world.^ 

IF  There  was  a  philosopher,  a  great  man  in  Aberdeen ;  his 
name  was  Dr.  Beattie.  He  had  a  little  boy  about  five  years 
old,  who  was  just  able  to  read.  Dr.  Beattie  wanted  to  teach  his 
little  boy  about  God,  and  how  do  you  think  he  did  it  ?  He  went 
into  the  garden,  and  in  a  corner,  with  his  finger,  he  made  in  the 
ground  the  letters  of  his  little  boy's  name ;  and  when  he  had 
made  those  marks  in  the  ground  he  put  some  mustard  and  cress 
in  those  lines.  About  ten  days  afterwards  his  little  boy  came 
running  into  his  study,  saying,  "  Father,  father,  there  is  my  name 
coming  up  in  my  garden,"  He  could  just  read  it.  The  father 
said,  "  Nonsense  !  nonsense !  There  cannot  be  your  name  in  the 
garden.  Don't  talk  like  that."  He  said,  "Father,  come  and 
see."  He  took  him  out,  and  there  was  his  name  in  the  garden. 
The  father  said,  "There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  that;  it  all  came 
by  chance."  The  little  boy  pulled  his  father  by  the  coat  into 
the  house,  and  said,  "  I  do  not  think  it  came  by  chance,  father. 
It  could  not  come  by  chance."  The  father  said,  "  Do  you  think 
somebody  put   it   there,  then  ? "     "  Yes,  I   do,  fatlier,"  said   the 

»  H.  P.  Liddou. 


GENESIS  I.   I  9 

little  boy.  "  I  think  somebody  must  have  put  it  there."  Theu 
his  father  began  to  tell  him  about  God,  "  That  is  just  the  way 
with  you,"  he  said.  "  Somebody  rmist  have  made  you.  You  are 
more  wonderful  than  that  mustard  and  cress."  ^ 

2.  Pantheism. — From  the  belief  that  the  Universe  is  the  result 
of  matter  and  force  guided  by  chance  a  violent  recoil  is  natural ; 
and  when  this  recoil  takes  place  without  the  guidance  of  Revela- 
tion the  result  is  Pantheism.  While  the  Atheistic  Materialist 
says,  "  There  is  no  God,"  the  Pantheist  answers,  "  Everything  is 
God."  The  Universe  is  not  made  by  God  ;  it  is  God  in  solution ; 
God  passing  into  various  manifestations  of  being.  God  is  the 
soul  of  the  Universe ;  He  is  the  common  principle  which 
constitutes  its  unity ;  He  is  at  the  root  of.  He  combines,  He 
manifests  Himself  in  all  its  infinite  variety  of  being  and  life. 
He  is  the  common  fund  of  life,  which  animates  all  that  lives; 
He  is  the  existence  which  is  shared  in  by  all  that  exists. 
Pantheism  lays  emphasis  on,  it  exaggerates,  two  great  truths — 
the  Omnipresence  of  God,  and  the  interdependence  of  created 
life.  But  Pantheism  denies  that  God  is  independent  of  the  world ; 
it  asserts  that  He  has  no  existence  apart  from  the  Universe  which 
manifests  Him  as  being  Himself.  It  asserts  that  He  is  not  a 
Person,  having  as  such  consciousness,  memory,  and  will;  that 
He  is  only  an  impersonal  quality  or  force;  or  that  He  is  an 
Idea,  slowly  realizing  itself  in  being.  Of  the  general  doctrine 
there  are  many  shades  and  modifications,  but  they  practically 
agree  in  making  the  Universe  identical  with  God. 

IT  Pantheism  often  uses  a  religious  kind  of  language  whicli 
puts  people  ofiF  their  guard  and  blinds  them  to  its  real  nature 
and  drift.  But  if  Pantheism  speaks  of  God  it  practically  denies 
Him.  Pantheism  says  that  God  is  the  Infinite ;  but  then  it  goes 
on  to  say  that  this  Infinite  exists  only  in  that  which  is  finite. 
But  if  the  Infinite  be  thus  literally  identified  with  the  finite,  it 
ceases  to  be,  or  rather  never  was,  the  Infinite,  and  there  is  in 
reality  no  Infinite  in  existence ;  in  other  words,  there  is  no  God. 
This  is  a  speculative  objection,  sufficiently  formidable  but  less 
serious  than  a  moral  objection  which  I  proceed  to  notice.  The 
very  first  element  of  our  belief  in  God  is  that  God  is  a  Moral 
Being,  that  He  is  Essential  Eight,  Essential  Justice,  Essential 
Sanctity,    Essential    Purity,    Essential    Truth,    Essential    Leva 

'  James  Yauglian, 


lo  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

But  if  you  Bay  with  the  Pantheist  that  God  is  Universal  Life, 
and  that  Universal  Life  is  God,  you  thereby  destroy  God's 
Morality.  You  make  God  the  agent  and  producer  of  evil  as 
well  as  the  agent  or  producer  of  good ;  or  else  you  deny  that  the 
distinction  between  absolute  good  and  absolute  evil  really  exists. 
You  make  God,  indeed,  the  energy  which  produces  deeds  of 
charity,  of  courage,  of  justice,  of  integrity ;  but  you  also  identify 
Him  with  the  energy  which  issues  in  adulteries,  fornications, 
murders,  thefts,  and  all  that  is  untrue,  cruel,  impure.^ 

^  It  is  surely  more  philosophical  to  believe  that  all  true 
being  centres  in  Personality,  and  proceeds  from  Personality, 
than  that  some  pantheistic  or  atheistic  It  is  the  ground  and 
first  principle  of  Nature.  The  one  implies  that  Nature  is 
thought/«s5,  souU«ss,  and  the  other  that  she  is  full  of  soul.' 

3.  The  Eternity  of  Matter. — Besides  the  doctrines  of  Material- 
istic Atheism  and  Pantheism  there  is  one  other  supposition — that 
the  Universe  and  God  are  both  eternal ;  that  an  Eternal  Universe 
has  existed  side  by  side  with  an  Eternal  God.  This  is  the  refuge 
of  minds  which  shrink  from  the  revealed  truth  of  a  creation,  yet 
hesitate  to  acquiesce  in  the  dark  theories  of  a  Universe  without 
God,  or  a  Universe  which  is  God.  But  this  third  theory  inevit- 
ably resolves  itself  into  one  of  the  two  first.  Unless  it  is  to  say 
that  there  are  two  Gods,  two  self-existent,  co-eternal  Beings, 
either  it  must  say  that  the  Universe  is  the  reality,  and  God  the 
imaginary  counterpart,  or  it  must  say  that  the  Universe  itself  is 
God.  And  if,  somewhat  violently,  this  consequence  be  declined, 
and  the  co-existence  of  God  and  an  Eternal  Universe  be  resolutely 
maintained,  whence  then,  we  ask,  come  the  laws,  the  harmony, 
the  form  of  this  self -subsisting,  uncreated  Universe  ?  We  have 
only  the  difficulties  of  Atheism  or  of  Pantheism,  as  the  case  may 
be,  without  their  completeness. 

^  How  the  Jews  have  understood  the  first  verse  of  Genesis  is 
sufficiently  notorious.  "Those,"  says  Maimonides,  "who  believe 
in  the  laws  of  our  master  Moses,  hold  that  the  whole  world,  which 
comprehends  everything  except  the  Creator,  after  being  in  a  state 
of  non-existence,  received  its  existence  from  God,  being  called 
into  existence  out  of  nothing.  ...  It  is  a  fundamental  principle 
of  our  law  that  God  created  the  world  from  nothing."  The 
mother  of  the  Maccabean  martyrs,  when  endeavouring  to  strengthen 
her  youngest  son   for  his  last  agony,  bids   him   look   upon   the 

1  H.  P.  Liddon.  *  John  Pulsford,  The  Supremacy  of  Man,  127. 


GENESIS  I.  I  II 

heaven  and  the  earth,  and  all  that  is  therein,  and  consider  that 
God  made  them  out  of  things  that  were  not.  If  the  Alexandrian 
author  of  the  Book  of  Wisdom  speaks  of  God's  making  the  cosmos 
out  of  shapeless  matter,  it  does  not  follow  that,  like  Philo  after- 
wards, he  had  so  yielded  to  Platonic  ideas  as  to  suppose  that 
matter  was  eternal ;  he  is  speaking  of  God's  later  creative  action, 
which  gave  form  to  matter  that  had  been  made  before.  Justin 
Martyr  uses  the  phrase  in  the  same  sense;  and  St.  Clement  of 
Alexandria  speaks  of  matter  having  no  relation  to  time,  not 
meaning  that  matter  is  eternal,  but  that  it  had  been  created  at  a 
period  when  there  were  no  "  times  or  seasons  or  days  or  years." 
Tertullian  holds  that  the  Carthaginian  artist,  Hermogenes,  who 
probably  had  never  unlearnt  his  heathen  creed,  really  teaches  the 
existence  of  a  second  God  when  he  asserts  the  eternity  of  matter : 
"Duos  Deos  infert,"  says  Tertullian,  "materiam  parem  Deo 
infert."  And  the  common  sense  of  Christian  antiquity  is  expressed 
in  the  devout  reasoning  of  St.  Augustine :  "  Thou,  O  Lord,  hast 
made  heaven  and  earth  ;  yet  not  out  of  Thine  own  Substance,  for 
then  heaven  and  earth  would  be  equal  to  Thine  Only  Begotten, 
and,  besides  Thyself,  there  was  nought  else  out  of  which  Thou 
couldst  make  it :  therefore  hast  Thou  made  heaven  and  earth  out 
of  nothing." 

iv.  Continuous  Creation. 

In  the  sense  of  giving  form  and  order  to  pre-existent  matter, 
God  has  continued  to  create  ever  since  the  Creation.  It  is  quite 
possible,  as  was  distantly  suggested  by  Peter  Lombard  in  the 
heart  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  as  is  maintained  by  the  evolu- 
tionary theory  in  our  time,  that  He  has  continuously  developed 
ever  new  species  of  creatures  by  a  natural  selection  out  of  lower 
species  previously  existing.  In  this,  and  other  kindred  ways,  it 
may  be  that  He  "  worketh  hitherto."  And  to  us  the  development 
of  one  species  out  of  another  may  appear  even  more  wonderful 
and  a  greater  miracle  than  the  independent  creation  of  every 
species. 

^  The  forest  oak  is  a  majestic  object,  as  it  sits  rooted  upon  its 
rocks,  looking  forth  toward  all  the  winds,  and  watching  the  seasons 
come  and  go.  The  apparatus  of  an  intricate  life  is  playing  in  a 
million  of  veins  and  arteries,  adding  each  year  its  ring  of  robust 
strength  to  the  concentric  circles  on  which  you  may  mark  off  the 
centuries,  girding  about  it  anew  its  coats  of  shaggy  bark,  and 
painting  its  leaves  with  the  tender  green  of  spring  and  the  ruddy 
hue  of  autumn.     It  is  the  grand  production  of  His  word  who  bade 


12  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

the  earth  bring  forth  her  grass,  her  herb,  her  tree.  But  you 
bring  to  me,  half  hidden  in  its  rustic  cup,  an  acorn,  and  tell  me 
that  in  the  white  kernel  within  that  brown  shell  are  imprisoned 
all  the  possibilities  of  the  future  oak — not  some  chance  tree,  it 
may  chance  of  beech  or  elm  or  of  some  other  tree,  but  the  oak 
itself  with  all  its  lordly  traits,  its  giant  boll,  its  stretch  and  grasp 
of  root,  its  tough  fibre,  its  shaggy  bark,  its  deep-cut  leaves  of 
shining  green — ^that  all  these,  to  the  last  detail,  are  provided  for 
in  that  little  nodule  of  starch,  and  I  say  this  is  a  greater  wonder 
still !  1 

^  Men  startle  us  with  their  beginnings ;  at  once  they  show 
their  hand,  and  after  the  pomp  of  initiation  we  are  disappointed 
with  the  finish.  This  is  all  exactly  contrary  to  the  method  of  the 
greatest  Worker  of  all.  He  is  usually  modest,  meagre,  unpromising 
in  His  beginnings ;  but  His  finishing  strokes  make  the  sublime. 
It  was  thus  with  the  creation  of  the  world.  Starting  with  slime 
and  darkness.  He  went  forward  in  firmaments,  suns,  moons,  stars, 
and  the  humanity  that  is  more  than  all  galaxies.  This  is  God's 
order  in  the  world  still.  Beginning  with  coral  insects  and  earth- 
worms. He  ends  with  rich  landscapes ;  beginning  with  specks  of 
jelly,  He  works  up  to  splendid  organisms ;  beginning  with  sober 
seeds,  He  crowns  His  creation  with  the  golden  lilies  and  burning 
roses.^ 

11. 

The  Ckeator. 

The  sentence,  "  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and 
the  earth,"  stands  like  an  archway  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Universe.  In  the  beginning  of  heaven,  God;  in  the  beginning 
of  the  earth,  God ;  in  the  beginning  of  time,  God ;  in  the 
beginning  of  man,  God;  in  the  beginning  of  the  Bible,  God;  in 
the  beginning  of  salvation,  God.  Looking  back  at  the  universe 
to  the  time  when  the  chaotic  mists  hung  across  the  morning  of 
creation,  we  see  streaking  their  silvery  summits  that  infinite 
word,  "God."  Looking  above  us  at  the  stars  of  the  heavens, 
and  contemplating  their  number  and  magnitude,  and  the  power 
that  created  and  sustains  them,  we  think  of  "  God."  Looking 
forward  into  the  infinite  future,  toward  which  all  are  travelling, 
we  meet  with  "God."  The  idea  of  God  is  the  centre  of  the 
spiritual  universe.     It  is  the  focal  point  of  human  thouglit.     It 

'  L.  W.  Bacon.  *  W.  L.  WatkiuBou. 


GENESIS  I.   I  13 

is  the  answer  to  the  soul's  thirst.  It  is  the  universal  prayer. 
It  is  the  greatest  idea  in  the  world.  It  is  the  idea  that  over- 
whelms us,  that  humbles  us,  that  exalts  us,  that  saves  us, 
that  inspires  us,  and  that  makes  us  believe  in  our  immortality. 
It  is  the  keynote  to  religious  progress.  "  As  a  man  thinks  about 
Grod,  so  is  he." 

i.  What  does  Creation  tell  us  about  God  ? 

What  discoveries  about  God  does  Creation  allow  us  to  make  ? 
If  He  is  creator,  what  does  that  enable  us  to  assert  concerning 
Him? 

1.  His  Existence. — Conceive  that  a  thoughtful  man,  in  the 
full  maturity  of  his  powers,  had  suddenly  been  placed  in  the 
midst  of  this  beautiful  system  of  natural  life.  His  eye  rests 
upon  the  forms  and  colours  around  him  with  keen,  fresh  delight. 
Earth,  sky,  sun,  stars,  clouds,  mountains,  valleys,  rivers,  seas, 
trees,  animals,  flowers,  and  fruits,  in  groups  and  separately,  pass 
before  him.  His  thought  is  still  eagerly  curious ;  it  has  not  yet 
been  vulgarized  and  impoverished  down  to  the  point  at  which 
existence  is  taken  as  a  matter  of  course:  the  beauty,  the 
mysteriousness,  the  awfulness  of  the  Universe,  still  elevates  and 
thrills  him ;  and  his  first  desire  is  to  account  to  himself  for  the 
spectacle  on  which  he  gazes.  Whence  comes  it,  this  beautiful 
scene  ?  What  upholds  it  ?  Why  is  it  here  ?  Does  it  exist  of 
itself  ?  Is  it  its  own  upholder  and  ruler,  or  is  there  any  Cause 
or  Being  in  existence  who  gives  it  substance  and  shape  ?  From 
this  question  there  is  no  escape;  we  cannot  behold  the  vast 
flood  of  life  sweep  before  our  eyes  without  asking  whence  it  takes 
its  rise :  we  cannot  read  the  pages  of  that  marvellous  book  of 
Nature  and  be  indifferent  to  the  question  whether  they  have  an 
Author.  And  thus  it  is  that  in  circles  where  Christ  is  not 
named,  or  is  named  only  in  accents  of  contemptuous  scorn,  the 
question  is  asked  in  our  day  more  and  more  importunately: 
Whence  comes  this  Universe?  what  upholds  it  in  being?  for 
what  end  does  it  exist?  Now  the  Christian  solution  of  this 
question  is  the  only  one  which  seriously  respects  the  rights  and 
even  the  existence  of  God. 

^  Dr.  Blomfield,  Bishop  of  London,  used  to  warn  his  ordination 
candidates  against  too  great  confidence  in  attempting  to  prove 
the  existence  of  God.     Preaching  in  Suffolk  on  one  occasion  in 


14  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

early  life  from  the  text,  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  There 
is  no  God,"  he  entered  into  a  powerful  argument  in  proof  of  the 
existence  of  God.  The  service  over,  the  preacher  went  to  dine 
with  a  neighbouring  farmer,  who  complimented  him  on  his  sermon, 
but  observed  quite  naively, "  At  the  same  time,  sir,  I  believe  there 
is  a  God." 

^  That  in  the  beginning  of  his  noviciate,  he  spent  the  hours 
appointed  for  private  prayer  in  thinking  of  God,  so  as  to  convince 
his  mind  of,  and  to  impress  deeply  upon  his  heart,  the  Divine 
existence,  rather  by  devout  sentiments,  than  by  studied  reason- 
ings, and  elaborate  meditations.  That  by  this  short  and  sure 
method,  he  exercised  himself  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God, 
resolving  to  use  his  utmost  endeavour  to  live  in  a  continual  sense 
of  His  Presence,  and,  if  possible,  never  to  forget  Him  more.^ 

^  The  word  "  God "  is  very  great.  He  who  realizes  and 
acknowledges  this  will  be  mild  and  fair  in  his  judgment  of  those 
who  frankly  confess  they  have  not  the  courage  to  say  they 
believe  in  God.' 

^  There  was  a  very  wise  man  who  lived  many,  many  hundreds 
of  years  ago.  His  name  was  Simonides.  People  came  to  him 
because  he  was  one  of  the  wisest  men  that  ever  lived ;  and  they 
said  to  him,  "  What  is  God,  Simonides  ? "  He  said,  "  Give  me  a 
day  to  think  about  it."  They  came  to  him  the  next  day,  and  said, 
"  What  is  God,  Simonides  ? "  He  said,  "  Give  me  a  week  to  think 
about  it."  After  a  week  had  passed,  they  came  to  him  again,  and 
said,  "  What  is  God,  Simonides  ? "  He  said,  "  Give  me  a  month 
to  think  about  it."  They  came  again  to  him  at  the  end  of  a 
month,  and  they  said, "  What  is  God,  Simonides  ? "  He  said, "  Give 
me  a  year  to  think  about  it."  At  the  end  of  a  year  they  came  to 
him,  and  said,  "  What  is  God,  Simonides  ? "  And  he  said,  "  I  am 
no  nearer  than  when  I  first  began  to  think  about  it.  I  cannot 
tell  what  God  is."  » 

^  Some  one  came  once  to  an  Arab  in  his  tent  in  the  desert, 
and  said  to  him,  "  How  do  you  know  there  is  a  God  ? "  He  said, 
"  How  do  I  know  whether  it  was  a  man  or  a  camel  that  went  by 
my  tent  last  night?"  How  did  he  know  which  it  was?  "By 
the  footprints."  The  marks  in  the  sand  showed  whether  it  was 
a  man's  foot,  or  a  camel's  foot,  that  had  passed  his  tent.  So 
the  Arab  said,  "  That  is  the  way  I  know  God.  I  know  Him  by 
His  footprints.  These  are  His  footprints  that  are  all  around 
me." 

'  Brother  Lawrence,  The  PraeUee  of  the  Presence  of  Ood,  25. 

'  R.  Rothe,  Still  Hmtrs,  91.  *  James  Vaughan. 


GENESIS  I.  I  15 

2.  His  Power. — "  God  created :  "  does  anything  so  lead  up  our 
thoughts  to  the  almightiness  of  God  as  this  ?  For  think  of  the 
untold  vastness  of  creation,  with  its  two  infinities,  of  great  and 
small;  universe  beyond  universe,  in  ever-expanding  circles  of 
magnificence,  as  we  press  our  researches  without,  and  universe 
within  universe,  in  ever-refining  delicacy  of  minute  texture,  as 
we  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the  infinitely  little — think  of  all  this, 
and  then  think  that  it  came  into  being  at  His  word:  "He 
spake,  and  it  was  done;  he  commanded,  and  it  stood  fast" 
(Ps.  xxxiii.  9). 

^  Observe,  as  an  element  of  creation,  the  presence  of  that 
mysterious  gift,  so  intimately  present  to  each  one  of  us,  in  its 
essence  so  entirely  beyond  our  power  of  analysis,  which  we  call 
life.  We  know  life  by  its  symptoms :  by  growth  and  movement, 
by  feeling  and  gesture ;  and  in  its  higher  forms,  by  speech  and 
expression.  What  is  life  ?  It  is  growth  in  the  vegetable ;  it  is 
feeling  and  movement  in  the  animal;  it  is  thought,  reflection, 
resolve  in  man,  as  these  manifest  themselves  in  speech  and  look 
and  action.  But  what  is  it  in  itself,  in  its  essence,  this  gift  of 
life  ?  Science,  the  unraveller  of  so  many  secrets,  is  silent  here : 
as  silent  as  when  she  had  not  yet  begun  to  inquire  and  to  teach. 
She  can  define  the  conditions,  the  accompaniments,  the  surround- 
ings, the  phenomena  of  life ;  but  its  essence  she  knows  not.  It  is 
a  mystery  which  eludes  her  in  her  laboratories  and  her  museimis ; 
each  of  her  most  accomplished  votaries  carries  it  perpetually  with 
him,  and  understands  it  as  little  as  does  the  peasant  or  the 
child.  Oh,  marvellous  gift  of  life !  true  ray  of  the  Creator's 
Beauty,  in  thy  lowest  as  in  thy  highest  forms !  We  men 
can  foster  it ;  we  can  stint  it ;  we  can,  by  a  profound  natural 
mystery,  as  parents,  yet  in  obedience  to  inviolable  laws, 
transmit  it  as  a  sacred  deposit  to  beings  which  have  it  not; 
we  can  crush  it  out  by  violence  into  death.  But  we  cannot 
create  it. 

^  When  Mr.  Simeon,  of  Cambridge,  was  dying,  he  looked 
round  with  one  of  his  beaming  smiles,  and  said,  "  What  do  you 
think  specially  gives  me  comfort  now  ?  The  Creation !  Did 
Jehovah  create  the  world,  or  did  I  ?  I  think  He  did.  Now  if  He 
made  the  world,  He  can  sufi&ciently  take  care  of  me." 

0  Master  of  the  Beautiful, 
Creating  us  from  hour  to  hour, 
Give  me  this  vision  to  the  full 
To  see  in  lightest  things  Thy  power- 


i6     THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

This  vision  give,  no  heaven  afar, 
No  throne,  and  yet  I  will  rejoice, 
Knowing  beneath  my  feet  a  star, 
Thy  word  in  every  wandering  voice.* 

ii.  What  other  works  follow  from  Creation  ? 

Belief  in  the  creation  of  the  universe  by  God  out  of  nothing 
naturally  leads  to  belief  in  God's  continuous  Providence,  and 
Providence  in  turn,  considering  the  depth  of  man's  moral  misery, 
suggests  Eedemption.  No  such  anticipation  would  be  reasonable, 
if  we  could  suppose  that  the  world  emanated  from  a  passive  God, 
or  that,  per  impossibile,  it  had  existed  side  by  side  with  Him  from 
everlasting.  But  if  He  had  created  it  in  His  freedom,  the 
question  will  inevitably  be  asked,  Why  did  He  create  it  ?  Could 
it  add  anything  to  His  Infinite  Blessedness  and  Glory  ?  could  it 
make  Him  more  powerful,  more  happy,  more  wise  ?  Kevelation 
answers  the  question  by  ascribing  creation  to  that  attribute 
of  God  which  leads  Him  to  communicate  His  life ;  that  generous 
attribute  which  is  goodness  in  its  relation  to  the  irrational  and 
inanimate  universe,  and  love  in  its  relation  to  personal  beings. 
"I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love:  therefore  with 
lovingkindness  have  I  drawn  thee." 

^  The  sower  is  justly  held  responsible  for  the  due  care  and 
cultivation  of  the  growing  plant.  To  neglect  it,  to  allow  it  to 
wither  and  die  for  lack  of  proper  attention,  is  felt  to  be  a  wrong 
and  almost  a  cruelty.  The  father  and  the  mother  are,  still  more 
justly  and  still  more  severely,  held  responsible  for  the  mainten- 
ance, education,  and  tenderest  nurture  of  their  children.  And 
why  ?  Because  they  are  their  pro-creators ;  that  is,  under  God, 
their  creators.  Nature  itself  teaches  us  the  rights  of  creation. 
And  can  we  think  for  a  moment,  that  the  Creator  is  forgetful  of, 
is  insensible  to,  those  rights?  Let  our  Saviour's  familiar 
argument  be  the  reply  to  the  question :  "  If  ye,  being  evil,  know 
how  to  give  good  gifts  to  your  children ;  how  much  more  shall 
your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  give  good  things  to  them  that  ask 
him  ? "  The  Creator,  t?ie  Father,  must  be  infinitely  more  righteous 
and  faithful  than  all  subordinate  and  secondary  creators  and 
fathers.  He  will  not  forsake — He  will  have  a  desire  to— the 
work  of  His  own  hands.* 

»  "  A.  E."  '  D.  J.  Vaughan. 


GENESIS  I.   I  17 

1.  Providence. — If  God  created  the  world  He  will  also  rule  it. 
God  does  not  create  worlds  in  order  that  meaner  spirits  may 
control  them.  Creation  means  providence,  and  providence  means 
redemption,  and  redemption  means  heaven,  and  heaven  is  a  term 
which  no  lexicographer  can  fitly  define. 

^  Of  this  property  of  God's  activity  there  is  on  earth  one  most 
beautiful  and  instructive  shadow — the  love  of  a  parent  for  his 
child.  That  love  is  the  most  disinterested,  the  purest,  if  not  the 
strongest,  of  human  passions.  The  parent  hopes  for  nothing  from 
his  child ;  yet  he  will  work  for  it,  suffer  for  it,  die  for  it.  If  you 
ask  the  reason,  it  is  because  he  has  been  the  means  of  bringing  it 
into  existence.  Certainly,  if  it  lives,  it  may  support  and  comfort 
him  in  his  old  age ;  but  that  is  not  the  motive  of  his  anxious  care. 
He  feels  the  glory  and  the  responsibility  of  fatherhood ;  and  this 
leads  him  to  do  what  he  can  for  the  helpless  infant  which  depends 
on  him.  Our  Lord  appeals  to  this  parental  instinct  when  He 
teaches  us  the  efficacy  of  prayer.  If  men,  evil  as  they  are,  give 
good  gifts  unto  their  children,  how  much  more  shall  not  a  moral 
God — your  heavenly  Father — give  the  best  of  gifts,  His  Holy 
Spirit,  to  them  that  ask  Him.^ 

'  Lo!  I  have  sought,  he  said,  and  striven 
To  find  the  truth,  and  found  it  not, 
But  yet  to  me  it  hath  been  given, 

And  unto  you  it  hath  been  brought. 
This  Host  of  ours  our  Father  is, 
And  we  the  children  He  begot. 

Upon  my  brow  I  felt  His  kiss. 
His  love  is  all  about  our  steps, 
And  He  would  lead  us  all  to  bliss; 

For  though  He  comes  in  many  shapes, 
His  love  is  throbbing  in  them  all, 
And  from  His  love  no  soul  escapes. 
And  from  His  mercy  none  can  fall.* 

2.  Redemption. — If  love  was  the  motive  for  creation,  it 
implies  God's  continuous  interest  in  created  life.  If  love  urged 
God  to  reveal  Himself  by  His  work  under  finite  conditions — and 
both  David   and   St.  Paul  insist  upon   the   high  significance   of 

»  H.  P.  Liddon.  »  Walter  C.  Smith. 

GEN.- NUM. — 2 


x8  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

creation  as  an  unveiling  of  the  hidden  life  of  God — surely  love 
might  urge  Him  to  reveal  Himself  yet  more  distinctly  under  finite 
conditions,  as  "  manifest  in  the  flesh."  The  formula  that "  time 
has  no  meaning  for  God "  is  sometimes  used  even  by  writers  of 
consideration,  in  senses  which  are  incompatible  with  the  idea  of 
creation.  If  it  is  not  beneath  God's  dignity  to  create  a  finite 
world  at  all,  it  is  not  beneath  His  dignity  to  accept  the  conse- 
quences of  His  work;  to  take  part  in  the  development  of  His 
creatures;  to  subject  Himself,  in  some  sense,  to  the  conditions 
imposed  by  His  original  act.  If  in  His  knowledge  He  necessarily 
anticipates  the  development  of  His  work,  so  that  to  Him  a 
"  thousand  years  are  as  one  day  " ;  by  His  love,  on  the  other  hand, 
which  led  Him  to  move  out  of  Himself  in  creation  at  the  first.  He 
travails  with  the  slow  onward  movement  of  the  world  and  of 
humanity ;  and  His  incarnation  in  time,  when  demanded  by  the 
supreme  needs  of  the  creatures  of  His  hand,  is  in  a  line  with  that 
first  of  mysteries.  His  deigning  to  create  at  all.  For  thus  God, 
having  created  the  rational  and  human  world,  so  loved  it,  that  He 
gave  His  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  Him 
should  not  perish  but  have  everlasting  life. 

^  It  lies  at  the  very  root  of  all  Christian  religion  that  our 
Word  of  Eevelation  should  open,  not  with  the  Call  of  Abraham, 
or  the  Covenant  of  Circumcision,  or  the  Law  of  Sinai,  but  with 
the  Creation  of  the  Heaven  and  the  Earth.  There  is  One  Lord 
for  the  physical  world  and  for  the  spiritual.  True ;  the  salvation 
through  Christ  has  come  to  us  in  history  from  the  people  of 
Israel.  The  work  of  Redemption,  however,  is  not  a  Jewish  event, 
but  the  continuance  of  the  work  of  Creation,  to  be  consummated 
in  the  days  of  "the  Restoration  of  all  things."  The  love  that 
was  manifested  on  the  Cross  is  the  love  that  was  shown  in  the 
framing  of  the  Universe.  To  us,  with  the  Bible  in  our  hands, 
the  two  epochs,  if  the  phrase  be  permissible,  are  inseparable, 
that  of  Creation  and  that  of  Redemption.  The  whole  teaching 
■■^of  Revelation  springs,  as  it  were,  from  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis.  The  God  who  made  the  world  did  not  send  it  "  spinning 
down  the  grooves  of  change,"  and  then  gaze  at  a  distance  upon 
its  course,  unheeding  of  its  destiny,  regardless  of  its  inhabitants. 
The  same  God  that  created  has  also  redeemed,  even  now  sanctifies, 
even  now  encompasses  us  with  mercies,  and  will  hereafter,  in  a 
fashion  and  a  manner  yet  to  be  revealed,  restore.  The  Gospel  of 
Genesis  is  one  of  hope.^ 

y^  ^  H.  E.  Ryle,  On  Holy  Scripture  and  Criticism,  82. 


GENESIS  I.  I  19 

^ "  When "  (in  the  words  of  a  Talmudic  allegory)  "  the 
Almighty  was  about  to  create  man,  He  called  together  before 
His  Throne  a  council  of  the  angelic  hosts.  'Create  him  not!' 
so  spake  the  Angel  of  Justice.  *He  will  be  unjust  towards  his 
brother  man.  He  will  injure  and  oppress  the  weak,  and  cruelly 
ill-treat  the  feeble.'  'Create  him  not!'  said  the  Angel  of 
Peace.  'He  will  stain  the  earth  with  the  blood  of  men,  his 
brethren.  The  first-born  of  his  race  will  be  the  murderer  01 
his  brother.'  'Create  him  not!'  said  the  Angel  of  Truth. 
'Thou  mayest  create  him  in  Thine  own  image,  after  Thy  like- 
ness, and  stamp  the  impress  of  truth  upon  his  brow;  yet  will 
he  desecrate  with  falsehood  even  Thine  own  Sanctuary.'  And 
more  they  would  have  said,  but  Mercy — the  youngest  and 
dearest  child  of  the  Eternal  Father — stepped  to  the  sapphire 
Throne,  and  knelt  before  Him,  and  prayed :  '  Father,  oh.  Father, 
Create  him\  Create  him  after  Thine  own  image,  and  as  the 
favoured  child  of  Thy  goodness.  When  all  others.  Thy  servants, 
forsake  him,  I  will  be  with  him.  I  will  lovingly  aid  him,  and 
turn  his  very  errors  to  his  own  good.  I  will  touch  his  heart 
with  pity,  and  make  him  merciful  to  others  weaker  than 
himself.  When  he  goes  astray  from  the  paths  of  Truth  and  Peace, 
when  he  transgresses  the  laws  of  Justice  and  Equity,  I  will  still 
be  with  him  ;  and  the  consequences  of  his  own  errors  shall  lead 
him  back  to  the  right  path,  and  so  Thy  forgiving  love  shall  make 
him,  penitent,  Thine.'  The  Father  of  mankind  listened  to  her 
voice,  and  with  the  aid  of  Mercy  created  man."  ^ 

^  Let  us  bear  in  mind  that  a  religion  of  mere  Theism  is  now 
impossible.  We  are  redeemed  from  our  sin  by  Him  who  gave  us 
being,  and  therefore  the  claims  of  God  the  Creator  are  enhanced 
and  intensified  by  the  new,  wondrous,  matchless  claims  of  God 
our  Saviour. 

'Twas  great  to  speak  a  world  from  nought, 
'Twas  greater  to  redeem  I 

And  of  all  the  universe  the  most  significant  and  sacred  place 
is  the  place  of  the  Cross ;  for  there  we  hear  a  voice  more  full  of 
constraining  power  than  any  voice  that  comes  down  to  us  from 
the  everlasting  hills,  or  finds  an  echo  in  the  spacious  heavens, 
even  the  voice  of  a  love  unto  death ! ' 

Therefore  to  whom  turn  I  but  to  thee,  the  ineffable  Name  ? 
Builder  and  maker,  thou,  of  houses  not  made  with  hands ! 
What,  have  fear  of  change  from  thee  who  art  ever  the  same? 
Doubt  that  thy  power  can  fill  the  heart  that  thy  power  expands  ? 

'  H.  Gollancz.  »  T.  F.  Lockjer. 


20    THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

There  shall  never   be  one  lost  good !    What  was,  shall  live  as 

before ; 
The  evil  is  null,  is  nought,  is  silence  implying  sound; 
What   was  good   shall   be  good,  with,   for  evil,  so   much  good 

more ; 
On    the    earth    the    broken    arcs, — in    the    heaven,    a    perfect 

round !  * 

iii.  Three  Encouragfements. 

Now  in  this  great  thought  of  Creation  involving  Providence 
and  Eedemption  there  are  three  things  to  encourage  us. 

1.  First,  there  is  the  fact  that  the  material  world  originated 
from  the  spiritual;  the  visible  from  the  invisible.  It  is  the 
unseen  forces  that  give  shape  and  form  to  the  things  which  are. 
The  phenomenal  world  is  but  the  expression  of  invisible  forces. 
The  Unseen  dominates  and  rules  the  seen.  It  would  seem  as  if 
all  force  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  spiritual,  and  has  its  seat  and 
origin  in  God.  The  Unseen  is  the  eternal  and  unchangeable ;  the 
visible  is  temporal  and  perishable.  A  mighty  truth  is  contained 
in  that  word  of  St.  Paul,  "  All  things  work  together  for  good  .  .  . 
while  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things 
which  are  not  seen ;  for  the  things  which  are  .  .  .  not  seen  are 
eternal."  And  all  those  unseen  verities  and  forces  have  their  root 
in  God. 

When  that  my  soul,  too  far  from  God, 

In  earthy  furrows  crawled  about. 
An  insect  on  a  dusty  clod 

Wandering  wingless  in  and  out: 

At  deepest  dusk  I  looked  above 

And  saw  a  million  worlds  alight. 
That  burnt  the  mortal  veils  of  Love 

And  left  it  shining  infinite: 

I  gazed  and  gazed  with  lifted  head 
Until  I  found  my  heart  had  wings. 

And  now  my  soul  has  ceased  to  dread 
The  weary  dust  of  earthly  things.' 

2.  Next  there  is  the  fact  that  the  unity  of  God  the  Creator 
(carries  with  it  the  idea  of  the  unity  of  the  Creation.     And  here 

'  Browning,  Abl  VogUr,  *  Kaohel  AnnaDct  Taylor. 


GENESIS  I.  I  21 

arises  the  grand  conception  of  the  universe  as  a  cosmos.  One  law. 
the  law  of  gravitation,  pervades  the  whole  material  creation,  and 
binds  it  into  one  vast  and  glorious  system.  And  that  law  of 
gravitation,  what  is  it  but  the  expression  of  one  omnipotent  Will, 
the  exertion  of  one  infinite  Energy  ?  Here  the  poetry  of  the 
Psalmist  is  seen  almost  as  a  physical  truth :  "  Whither  shall  I 
go  from  thy  spirit  ?  Or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence  ?  " 
May  we  not  most  surely  conclude  that  as  physical  law  pervades 
all  space,  so  also  does  moral  law  reign  over  the  whole  creation  in 
unchanged  majesty  ?  John  Stuart  Mill  thought  there  might  be 
a  place  in  the  universe  where  two  and  two  do  not  make  four. 
That  position  is  unthinkable.  Truth  here  is  truth  everywhere, 
because  God  is  the  same  everywhere.  Nothing  can  really  hurt 
the  good  man.  "  Say  ye  to  the  righteous,  that  it  shall  be  well 
with  him." 

^  Professor  Henry  Jones,  in  his  book  on  Browning,  points  out 
how  Browning  differs  from  two  others  of  his  great  contemporaries 
— Emerson  and  Carlyle.  Speaking  of  Emerson's  always  rose- 
coloured  view  of  things,  he  says :  "  Such  an  optimism,  such  a 
plunge  into  the  pure  blue  and  away  from  facts,  was  Emerson's. 
Caroline  Fox  tells  a  story  of  him  and  Carlyle  which  reveals  this 
very  pointedly.  It  seems  that  Carlyle  once  led  the  serene 
philosopher  through  the  abominations  of  the  streets  of  London  at 
midnight,  asking  him  with  grim  humour,  at  every  few  steps,  '  Do 
you  believe  in  the  devil  now  ? '  Emerson  replied  that  the  more 
he  saw  of  the  English  people  the  greater  and  better  he  thought 
them.  This  little  incident  lays  bare  the  limits  of  both  these  great 
men.  Where  the  one  saw,  the  other  was  blind.  To  the  one  there 
was  the  misery  and  the  universal  murk ;  to  the  other  the  pure 
white  beam  was  scarcely  broken.  Carlyle  believed  in  the  good, 
beyond  all  doubt ;  he  fought  his  great  battle  in  its  strength,  and 
won ;  but  '  he  was  sorely  wounded.'  Emerson  was  Sir  Galahad, 
blind  to  all  but  the  Holy  Grail ;  his  armour  spotless  white,  his 
virtue  cloistered  and  unbreathed,  his  race  won  without  the  dust 
and  heat.  But  his  optimism  was  too  easy  to  be  satisfactory." 
Now,  in  opposition  to  the  pessimism  of  Carlyle  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  "  too  easy  "  optimism  of  Emerson  on  the  other.  Browning 
— seeing  the  worst,  as  Carlyle  saw  it,  and  seeing  also  the  best 
beyond,  as  Emerson  saw  it — reveals  a  true,  unfailing,  and  glorious 
optimism,  which  grounds  itself  upon  the  only  sure,  immovable 
basis — a  conviction  resulting  from  the  vision  of  the  loving, 
powerful,  regnant  God  !     Evil  may  exist,  does  exist — paint  it,  if 


22  THE  CREATION  AND  THE  CREATOR 

you  will,  in  its  blackest  colours  ;  but  good  exists  too,  and  good  will 
triumph  at  last,  because  God  and  good  are  one.  And  so  our  poet 
declares — 

Oh,  thought's  absurd ! — as  with  some  monstrous  fact 
Which,  when  ill  thoughts  beset  us,  seems  to  give 
Merciful  God  that  made  the  sun  and  stars. 
The  waters  and  the  green  delights  of  earth, 
The  lie !     I  apprehend  the  monstrous  fact- 
Yet  know  the  maker  of  all  worlds  is  good, 
And  yield  my  reason  up,  inadequate 
To  reconcile  what  yet  I  do  behold — 
Blasting  my  sense!    There's  cheerful  day  outside.* 

3.  And  there  is  also  the  assurance  that  through  the  ages  an 
unceasing  Divine  purpose  runs.  Scientific  research  reveals  that 
plan  up  to  a  certain  point.  It  proceeds  from  lower  to  higher,  and 
from  higher  to  highest;  from  inorganic  to  organic;  from  the 
simple  to  the  complex;  from  the  zoophyte  to  man.  It  is  ever 
ascending,  unfolding  into  richer  amplitude  and  meaning.  Such 
is  the  testimony  of  the  rocks.  Here  revelation  takes  up  the 
mighty  theme.  God  is  in  creation.  The  development  of  the  plan 
cannot  cease  where  geology  leaves  it.  A  Divine  purpose  runs 
through  the  ages,  and,  according  to  later  revelation,  centres  in 
Jesus  Christ.  Hence  He  is  described  as  "  a  Lamb  slain  from  the 
foimdation  of  the  world."  The  redemptive  idea  is  thus  funda- 
mental ;  it  is  the  central  truth  of  creation.  "  For  by  him  and 
through  him  and  to  him  are  all  things."  Here  is  the  meaning  of 
creation ;  man  as  created  is  not  the  ultimate  purpose  of  God,  but 
man  as  redeemed  and  glorified.  Here  the  purpose  of  God  in 
creation  becomes  luminous  and  grand.  The  suffering  world  is  not 
the  fulfilment  of  the  Divine  plan,  but  the  renewed  and  recon- 
structed world.  "The  whole  creation  groaneth  and  travaileth 
in  pain  together  .  .  .  waiting  for  the  adoption,  to  wit,  the 
redemption  of  our  body."  At  the  opening  of  the  Bible  we  see  all 
things  proceeding  from  God,  at  the  other  end  we  see  all  things 
returning  to  Him  again.  "  When  all  things  shall  be  subdued  unto 
him  (Christ),  then  shall  the  Son  also  himself  be  subject  unto 
him  that  put  all  things  under  him,  that  God  may  be  all  in  all." 

^  There  is  plan  in  the  universe ;  plan  implies  thought,  thought 

'  J.  Flew,  Studies  in  Browning,  30. 


GENESIS  I.  I  23 

predicates  a  thinker.  Philosophically,  the  Divine  mystery  of 
Creation  is  the  transmutation  of  thought  into  matter,  or  the  self- 
evolution  of  God,  the  evolution  from  the  Originating  Spirit  of 
what  was  involved  in  Himself — 

The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the  seas,  the  hills  and  the  plains — 
Are  not  these,  0  Soul,  the  Vision  of  Him  who  reigns? 

Is  not  the  Vision  He  ?  Tho*  He  be  not  that  which  He  seems  ? 
Dreams  are  true  while  they  last,  and  do  we  not  live  in  dreams  ? 

We  live  in  dreams,  because  the  self-evolution  of  the  Spirit  in 
man  and  matter  necessarily  implies  a  career  amidst  various  com- 
plications and  appearances  that  are  more  or  less  obscure,  a  kind 
of  divinely  appointed  dreamland;  but  the  Divine  origin  of  the 
problem  is  the  assurance  of  the  awakening  from  the  dream,  for  it 
is  the  Omnipotent  who  is  hidden  in  the  dream — the  dream  of  life ; 
and  the  full  awakening  will  be  when  Parent  and  offspring,  Thinker 
and  thing  thought,  become  consciously  one ;  perhaps  that  will  be 
when  we  die,  perhaps  there  is  truth  in  Shelley's  words,  "  Peace, 
peace,  he  is  not  dead,  he  doth  not  sleep,  he  hath  awakened  from 
the  dream  of  life."  I  do  not  know.  But  I  do  know  from  direct 
revelation,  endorsed  by  conscious  intuition,  that  God  is  Love  and 
that  the  human  race  and  its  Divine  source  are  inseverable,  and,  as 
Owen  Meredith  says — 

Only  matter's  dense  opaqueness 

Checks  God's  Light  from  shining  through  it, 

And  our  senses,  such  their  weakness. 
Cannot  help  our  Souls  to  view  it 

Till  Love  lends  the  world  translucence, 

Then  we  see  God  clear  in  all  things. 
Love's  the  new  sense,  Love's  the  true  sense. 

Which  teaches  us  how  we  should  view  things.* 

^  B.  Wilberforc«. 


Let  There  be  Light. 


Literature. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  The  World's  Childhood,  13,  25. 

Bellew  (J.  C.  M.),  Sermons,  iii.  241. 

Burrell  (D.  J.),  The  Golden  Passional,  110. 

Cohen  (0.  J.),  in  Sermons  by  American  Rabbis,  168. 

Evans  (R.  W.),  Parochial  Sermons,  237. 

Fuller  (M.),  The  Lord's  Day,  1. 

Button  (R.  E.),  The  Grovm  of  Christ,  i.  445. 

John  (Griffith),  A  Voice  from  China,  123. 

Jowett  (B.),  Sermons  on  Faith  and  Doctrine,  282. 

Kemble  (C),  Memorials  of  a  Closed  Ministry,  i.  1. 

M'Cheyne  (R.  M.),  Additional  Remains,  88. 

Macleod  (D.),  Christ  and  Society,  243. 

Matheson  (G.),  Leaves  for  Quiet  Hours,  159. 

„  Voices  of  the  Spirit,  1. 

Sale  (S.),  in  Sermons  by  American  Rabbis,  114. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  Iv.  No.  3134. 
Stanley  (A.  P.),  Church  Sermons,  i.  171. 
Thomas  (J.),  Sermons  (Myrtle  Street  Pulpit),  ii.  293. 
Thome  (H.),  Notable  Sayings  of  the  Great  Teacher,  246. 
Vaughan  (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  xix.  (1881)  No.  1166. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  xixviii.  331  (White) ;  Lev.  145  (Davidson) 
Church  Pulpit  Year  Book,  vi.  (1909)  42. 


Let  There  Be  Light. 

And  the  earth  was  waste  and  void ;  and  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of 
the  deep  :  and  the  spirit  of  God  moved  (R.V.  m.  was  brooding)  upon  the  face 
of  the  waters.  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light :  and  there  was  light. — 
Gen.  i.  2,  3. 

This  is  the  second  stage  in  the  history  of  the  Creation.  After  the 
first  verse,  it  is  of  the  earth,  and  of  the  earth  only,  that  the 
narrative  speaks.  The  earth  did  now  exist,  but  in  the  form  of 
eJtaos.  This  expression  does  not  mean  a  state  of  disorder  and 
confusion,  but  that  state  of  primitive  matter  in  which  no  creature 
had  as  yet  a  distinctive  existence,  and  no  one  element  stood  out 
in  distinction  from  others,  but  all  the  forces  and  properties  of 
matter  existed,  as  it  were,  imdivided.  The  materials  were  indeed 
all  there,  but  not  as  such — they  were  only  latent.  However,  the 
creative  spirit,  the  principle  of  order  and  life,  brooded  over  this 
matter,  which,  like  a  rich  organic  cell,  comprehended  in  itself  the 
conditions,  and  up  to  a  certain  point  the  elementary  principles,  of 
all  future  forms  of  existence.  This  Spirit  was  the  efficient  cause, 
not  of  matter  itself,  but  of  its  organization,  which  was  then  to 
begin.  He  was  the  executant  of  each  of  those  Divine  commands, 
which  from  this  time  were  to  succeed  each  other,  stroke  after 
stroke,  till  this  chaos  should  be  transformed  into  a  world  of 
wonders, 

If  We  cannot  tell  how  the  Spirit  of  God  brooded  over  that 
vast  watery  mass.  It  is  a  mystery,  but  it  is  also  a  fact,  and  it  is 
here  revealed  as  having  happened  at  the  very  commencement  of 
the  Creation,  even  before  God  had  said, "  Let  there  be  light,"  The 
first  Divine  act  in  fitting  up  this  planet  for  the  habitation  of  man 
was  for  the  Spirit  of  God  to  move  upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 
Till  that  time,  all  was  formless,  empty,  out  of  order,  and  in 
confusion.  In  a  word,  it  was  chaos;  and  to  make  it  into  that 
thing  of  beauty  which  the  world  is  at  the  present  moment,  even 
though  it  is  a  fallen  world,  it  was  needful  that  the  movement  of 


28  LET  THERE  BE  LIGHT 

the  Spirit  of  God  should  take  place  upon  it.  How  the  Spirit 
works  upon  matter,  we  do  not  know ;  but  we  do  know  that  God, 
who  is  a  Spirit,  created  matter,  and  fashioned  matter,  and 
sustained  matter,  and  that  He  will  yet  deliver  matter  from  the 
stain  of  sin  which  is  upon  it.  We  shall  see  new  heavens  and  a 
new  earth  in  which  materialism  itself  shall  be  lifted  up  from  its 
present  state  of  ruin,  and  shall  glorify  God;  but  without  the 
Spirit  of  God  the  materialism  of  this  world  must  have  remained 
for  ever  in  chaos.  Only  as  the  Spirit  came  did  the  work  of 
creation  begin.^ 

We  have  first  chaos,  then  order  (or  cosmos) ;  we  have  also  first 
darkness,  then  light.  It  is  the  Spirit  of  God  that  out  of  chaos 
brings  cosmos ;  it  is  the  Word  of  God  that  out  of  darkness  brings 
light.     Accordingly,  the  text  is  easily  divided  in  this  way — 

I.  Cosmos  out  of  Chaos. 

L  Chaos. 

ii  The  Spirit  of  God. 
iii.  Cosmos. 

II.  Light  out  of  Darkness. 

i.  Darkness, 
ii.  God's  Word. 
iii.  Light. 


Cosmos  out  of  Chaos. 

i.  Chaos. 

"The  earth  was  without  form  (R.V.  waste)  and  void."  The 
Hebrew  (tohu  wa-bohu)  is  an  alliterative  description  of  a  chaos,  in 
which  nothing  can  be  distinguished  or  defined.  2^hu  is  a  word 
which  it  is  difficult  to  express  consistently  in  English;  but  it 
denotes  mostly  something  unsubstantial,  or  (figuratively)  unreal ; 
cf.  Isa.  xlv.  18  (of  the  earth),  "  He  created  it  not  a  tohu,  he  fashioned 
it  to  be  inhabited,"  verse  19,  "  I  said  not,  Seek  ye  me  as  a  tohu  {i.e. 
in  vain)."  Bohii,  as  Arabic  shows,  is  rightly  rendered  empty  or 
void.  Compare  the  same  combination  of  words  to  suggest  the 
idea  of  a  return  to  primeval  chaos  in  Jer,  iv.  23  and  Isa.  xxiiv.  11 
("  the  line  of  tOhu  and  the  plummet  of  Mhu  "). 

'  C.  H.  Spiirgeon. 


GENESIS  1.  2,  3  29 

Who  seeketh  finds:  what  shall  be  his  relief 
Who  hath  no  power  to  seek,  no  heart  to  pray, 
No  sense  of  God,  but  bears  as  best  he  may, 
A  lonely  incommunicable  grief  ? 

What  shall  he  do?     One  only  thing  he  knows, 

That  his  life  flits  a  frail  uneasy  spark 

In  the  great  vast  of  universal  dark. 

And  that  the  grave  may  not  be  all  repose. 

Be  still,  sad  soul!  lift  thou  no  passionate  cry, 
But  spread  the  desert  of  thy  being  bare 
To  the  full  searching  of  the  All-seeing  Eye: 

Wait — and  through  dark  misgiving,  blank  despair, 
God  will  come  down  in  pity,  and  fill  the  dry 
Dead  place  with  light,  and  life,  and  vernal  air.  ^ 

ii.  The  Spirit  of  God. 

1.  In  the  Old  Testament  the  spirit  of  man  is  the  principle  of 
life,  viewed  especially  as  the  seat  of  the  stronger  and  more  active 
energies  of  life;  and  the  "spirit"  of  God  is  analogously  the 
Divine  force  or  agency,  to  the  operation  of  which  are  attributed 
various  extraordinary  powers  and  activities  of  men,  as  well  as 
supernatural  gifts.  In  the  later  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  it 
appears  also  as  the  power  which  creates  and  sustains  life.  It  is 
in  the  last-named  capacity  that  it  is  mentioned  here.  The  chaos 
of  verse  2  was  not  left  in  hopeless  gloom  and  death ;  already,  even 
before  God  "  spake,"  the  Spirit  of  God,  with  its  life-giving  energy, 
was  "brooding"  over  the  waters,  like  a  bird  upon  its  nest, 
and  (so  it  seems  to  be  implied)  fitting  them  in  some  way  to 
generate  and  maintain  life,  when  the  Divine  ^a<  should  be  pro- 
nounced. 

This,  then,  is  the  first  lesson  of  the  Bible ;  that  at  the  root 
and  origin  of  all  this  vast  material  universe,  before  whose  laws 
we  are  crushed  as  the  moth,  there  abides  a  living  conscious  Spirit, 
who  wills  and  knows  and  fashions  all  things.  The  belief  of  this 
changes  for  us  the  whole  face  of  nature,  and  instead  of  a  chill, 
impersonal  world  of  forces  to  which  no  appeal  can  be  made,  and 
in  which  matter  is  supreme,  gives  us  the  home  of  a  Father. 

» J.  C.  Sliairp. 


30  LET  THERE  BE  LIGHT 

^  In  speaking  of  Divine  perfection,  we  mean  to  say  that 
God  is  just  and  true  and  loving — the  Author  of  order  and  not 
of  disorder,  of  good  and  not  of  evil.  Or  rather,  that  He  is  justice, 
that  He  is  truth,  that  He  is  love,  that  He  is  order ;  .  .  .  and  that 
wherever  these  qualities  are  present,  whether  in  the  human  soul 
or  in  the  order  of  nature,  there  is  God.  We  might  still  see  Him 
everywhere  if  we  had  not  been  mistakenly  seeking  Him  apart 
from  us,  instead  of  in  us ;  away  from  the  laws  of  nature,  instead 
of  in  them.  And  we  become  united  to  Him  not  by  mystical 
absorption,  but  by  partaking,  whether  consciously  or  unconsciously 
of  that  truth  and  justice  and  love  which  He  Himself  is.^ 

I  have  learned 
To  look  on  nature,  not  as  in  the  hour 
Of  thoughtless  youth ;  but  hearing  oftentimes 
The  still,  sad  music  of  humanity. 
Nor  harsh  nor  grating,  though  of  ample  power 
To  chasten  and  subdue.     And  I  have  felt 
A  presence  that  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts;  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused. 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man: 
A  motion  and  a  spirit,  that  impels 
All  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thought. 
And  rolls  through  all  things.     Therefore  am  I  still 
A  lover  of  the  meadows  and  the  woods. 
And  mountains.* 

2.  The  doctrine  of  the  all-pervading  action  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  and  the  living  Power  underlying  all  the  energies  of  Nature, 
occupies  a  wider  space  in  the  pages  of  Divine  revelation  than  it 
holds  in  popular  Christian  theology,  or  in  the  hymns,  the  teaching, 
and  the  daily  thoughts  of  modern  Christendom.  In  these  the 
doctrine  of  the  Spirit  of  God  is,  if  we  judge  by  Scripture,  too 
much  restricted  to  His  work  in  Eedemption  and  Salvation,  to 
His  wonder-working  and  inspiring  energy  in  the  early  Church, 
and  to  His  secret  regenerating  and  sanctifying  energy  in  the 
renewal  of  souls  for  life  everlasting.  And  in  this  work  of  re- 
demption He  is  spoken  of  by  the  special  appellation  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  even  by  the  revisers  of  the  Authorized  Version  ;  although 

^  Benjamin  Jowett.  *  Wordsworth,  TinUm  Abbey 


GENESIS  I.  2,  3  31 

there  seems  to  be  not  the  slightest  reason  for  the  retention  of 
that  equivocal  old  English  word,  full  of  unfortunate  associations, 
more  than  there  would  be  in  so  translating  the  same  word  as  it 
occurs  in  our  Lord's  discourse  at  the  well  of  Jacob — "  God  is  a 
Spirit:  and  they  that  worship  him  must  worship  him  in  spirit 
and  in  truth  " — where  the  insertion  of  this  ancient  Saxon  word  for 
spirit  would  create  a  painful  shock  by  its  irreverence.  All  these 
redeeming  and  sanctifying  operations  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the 
soul  of  man  have  been  treated  with  great  fulness  in  our  own 
language,  in  scores  of  valuable  writings,  from  the  days  of  John 
Owen,  the  Puritan  Vice-Chancellor  of  Oxford,  down  to  the 
present  time,  when  Bishop  Moule  has  given  us  his  excellent  work 
entitled  Veni  Creator,  a  most  delightful  exposition  of  Scripture 
doctrine  on  the  Holy  Spirit  in  His  dealings  with  the  souls  of 
men.  In  few  of  these  works,  however,  appears  any  representa- 
tion of  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  working  in 
Nature,  as  the  direct  agent  of  the  Eternal  Will  in  the  creation 
and  everlasting  government  of  the  physical  and  intelleUual 
universe. 

f  It  has  been  the  fault  of  religious  teachers,  and  it  is  also  the 
fault  of  much  of  what  prevails  in  the  tone  of  the  religious  world 
— to  draw  an  unwarrantably  harsh  contrast  between  the  natural 
and  the  spiritual.  A  violent  schism  has  thereby  been  created 
between  the  sacred  and  the  secular,  and,  consequently,  many 
disasters  have  ensued.  Good  people  have  done  infinite  mischief 
by  placing  the  sacred  in  opposition  to  the  secular.  They  have 
thus  denied  God's  presence  and  God's  glory  in  things  where  His 
presence  should  have  been  gladly  acknowledged,  and  have  there- 
by cast  a  certain  dishonour  on  matters  which  should  have  been 
recognized  as  religious  in  the  truest  sense.  The  result  has  been 
that  others,  carefully  studying  the  things  thus  handed  over  to 
godlessness,  and  discovering  therein  rich  mines  of  truth,  and 
beauty,  and  goodness,  have  too  frequently  accepted  the  false 
position  assigned  to  them,  and  have  preached,  in  the  name  of 
Agnosticism  or  Atheism,  a  gospel  of  natural  law,  in  opposition 
to  the  exclusive  and  narrow  gospel  of  the  religionists  I  have 
described.^ 

3.  It  is  an  ennobling  thought  that  all  this  fair  world  we  see, 
all  those  healthful  and  strong  laws  in  ceaseless  operation  around 
us,  all  that  long  history  of  change  and  progress  which  we  have 

^  Donald  Macleod,  Christ  and  Society,  243. 


32  LET  THERE  BE  LIGHT 

been  taught  to  trace,  can  be  linked  on  to  what  we  behold  at 
Pentecost.  It  is  the  same  Spirit  who  filled  St.  Peter  and 
St.  John  with  the  life  and  power  and  love  of  Christ,  who  also 
"  dwells  in  the  light  of  setting  suns,  in  the  round  ocean,  and  the 
living  air."  There  is  no  opposition.  All  are  diverse  operations 
of  the  same  Spirit,  who  baptized  St.  Paul  with  his  glowing 
power,  and  St.  John  with  his  heavenly  love,  and  who  once  moved 
over  the  face  of  the  waters,  and  evoked  order  out  of  chaos.  The 
Bible  calls  nothing  secular,  all  things  are  sacred,  and  only  sin 
and  wickedness  are  excluded  from  the  domain  which  is  claimed 
for  God.  But  if  we  believe  that  He  has  never  left  Himself 
without  a  witness,  and  that  the  very  rain  and  sunshine  and 
fruitful  seasons  are  the  gifts  of  Him  whose  Spirit  once  moved 
over  the  waters  and  brought  order  out  of  confusion,  then  are 
we  entitled  to  go  further  and  to  say  that  in  the  love  of  parent 
and  child,  in  the  heroic  self-sacrifice  of  patriots,  in  the  thoughts 
of  wisdom  and  truth  uttered  by  wise  men,  by  Sakyamuni  or 
Confucius,  Socrates  or  Seneca,  we  must  see  nothing  less  than 
the  strivings  of  that  same  Divine  Spirit  who  spake  by  the 
prophets,  and  was  shed  forth  in  fulness  upon  the  Church  at 
Pentecost. 

^  In  the  Life  of  Sir  E.  Burne-Jones,  there  is  an  account  by 
his  wife  of  the  effect  first  made  upon  her  by  coming  into  contact 
with  him  and  his  artist  friends,  Morris  and  Eossetti.  She  says, 
"I  wish  it  were  possible  to  explain  the  impression  made  upon 
me  as  a  young  girl,  whose  experience  so  far  had  been  quite 
remote  from  art,  by  sudden  and  close  intercourse  with  those  to 
whom  it  was  the  breath  of  life.  The  only  approach  I  can  make 
to  describing  it  is  by  saying  that  I  felt  in  the  presence  of  a  new 
religion.  Their  love  of  beauty  did  not  seem  to  me  unbalanced, 
but  as  if  it  included  the  whole  world  and  raised  the  point  from 
which  they  regarded  everything.  Human  beauty  especially  was 
in  a  way  sacred  to  them,  I  thought;  and  a  young  lady  who 
was  much  with  them,  and  sat  for  them  as  a  model,  said  to  me, 
'  It  was  being  in  a  new  world  to  be  with  them.  I  sat  to  them 
and  I  was  there  with  them.  And  I  was  a  holy  thing  to  them — 
I  was  a  holy  thing  to  them.' " 

Wherever  through  the  ages  rise 
The  altars  of  self-sacrifice. 
Where  love  its  arms  has  opened  wide. 
Or  man  for  man  has  calmly  died, 


GENESIS  I.  2,  3  33 

I  see  the  same  white  wings  outspread, 
That  hovered  o'er  the  Master's  head! 
Up  from  undated  time  they  come, 
The  martyr  souls  of  heathendom; 
And  to  His  cross  and  passion  bring 
Their  fellowship  of  suffering. 

So  welcome  I  from  every  source 
The  tokens  of  that  primal  Force, 
Older  than  heaven  itself,  yet  new 
As  the  young  heart  it  reaches  to, 
Beneath  whose  steady  impulse  rolls 
The  tidal  wave  of  human  souls; 
Guide,  comforter,  and  inward  word, 
The  eternal  spirit  of  the  Lord !  ^ 

iii.  Cosmos. 

1.  The  Spirit  of  God  was  brooding  upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 
The  word  rendered  "  brooded  "  (or  "  wa^  brooding,"  RV.m.)  occurs 
elsewhere  only  in  Deut,  ixxii.  11,  where  it  is  used  of  an  eagle 
(properly,  a  griffon-vulture)  hovering  over  its  young.  It  is  used 
similarly  in  Syriac.  It  is  possible  that  its  use  here  may  be  a 
survival,  or  echo,  of  the  old  belief,  foimd  among  the  Phoenicians,  as 
well  as  elsewhere,  of  a  world- egg,  out  of  which,  as  it  split,  the 
earth,  sky,  and  heavenly  bodies  emerged ;  the  crude,  material 
representation  appearing  here  transformed  into  a  beautiful  and 
suggestive  figure. 

2.  The  hope  of  the  chaotic  world,  and  the  hope  of  the  sinning 
soul,  is  all  in  the  brooding  Spirit  of  God  seeking  to  bring  order 
out  of  chaos,  to  bring  life  out  of  death,  light  out  of  darkness,  and 
beauty  out  of  barrenness  and  ruin.  It  was  God's  Spirit  brooding 
over  the  formless  world  that  put  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  that 
filled  the  world  with  warmth  and  light,  that  made  the  earth  green 
with  herbage,  that  caused  forests  to  grow  upon  the  hillsides,  with 
birds  to  sing  in  them,  and  planted  flowers  to  exhale  their  perfume 
in  the  valleys.  So  God's  Spirit  broods  over  the  heart  of  man 
that  has  fallen  into  darkness  and  chaos  through  sin. 

(1)  As  the  movement  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  the  waters  was 
the  first  act  in  the  six  days'  work,  so  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit 

^  Whittier. 
GEN.-NUM. — 3 


34  LET  THERE  BE  LIGHT 

in  the  soul  is  the  first  work  of  grace  in  that  soul.  It  is  a  very 
humbling  truth,  but  it  is  a  truth  notwithstanding  its  humiliating 
form,  that  the  best  man  that  mere  morality  ever  produced  is 
still  "  waste  and  void "  if  the  Spirit  of  God  has  not  come  upon 
him.  All  the  efforts  of  men  which  they  make  by  nature,  when 
stirred  up  by  the  example  of  others  or  by  godly  precepts,  produce 
nothing  but  chaos  in  another  shape ;  some  of  the  mountains  may 
have  been  levelled,  but  valleys  have  been  elevated  into  other 
mountains ;  some  vices  have  been  discarded,  but  only  to  be 
replaced  by  other  vices  that  are,  perhaps,  even  worse ;  or  certain 
transgressions  have  been  forsaken  for  a  while,  only  to  be  followed 
by  a  return  to  the  selfsame  sins,  so  that  it  has  happened  unto 
them,  "  According  to  the  true  proverb,  The  dog  is  turned  to  his 
own  vomit  again;  and  the  sow  that  was  washed  to  her  wallow- 
ing in  the  mire  "  (2  Pet.  ii.  22).  Unless  the  Spirit  of  God  has  been 
at  work  within  him,  the  man  is  still,  in  the  sight  of  God,  "  without 
form  and  void  "  as  to  everything  which  God  can  look  upon  with 
pleasure. 

(2)  To  this  work  nothing  whatever  is  contributed  by  the 
man  himself.  "The  earth  was  waste  and  void,"  so  it  could 
not  do  anything  to  help  the  Spirit.  "Darkness  was  upon  the 
face  of  the  deep."  The  Spirit  found  no  light  there ;  it  had  to  be 
created.  The  heart  of  man  promises  help,  but  "the  heart  is 
deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked."  The  will  has 
great  influence  over  the  man,  but  the  will  is  itself  depraved,  so  it 
tries  to  play  the  tyrant  over  all  the  other  powers  of  the  man, 
and  it  refuses  to  become  the  servant  of  the  eternal  Spirit  of 
truth. 

(3)  Not  only  was  there  nothing  whatever  that  could  help  the 
Holy  Spirit,  but  there  seemed  nothing  at  all  congruous  to  the 
Spirit.  The  Spirit  of  God  is  the  Spirit  of  order,  but  there  was 
disorder.  He  is  the  Spirit  of  light,  but  there  was  darkness. 
Does  it  not  seem  a  strange  thing  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
should  have  come  there  at  all?  Adored  in  His  excellent 
glory  in  the  heaven  where  all  is  order  and  all  is  light,  why 
should  He  come  to  brood  over  that  watery  deep,  and  to  begin 
the  great  work  of  bringing  order  out  of  chaos  ?  Why  should  the 
Spirit  of  God  ever  have  come  into  our  hearts  ?  What  was  there 
in  us  to  induce  the  Spirit  of  God  to  begin  a  work  of  grace  in  us  ? 


GENESIS  I.  2,  3  35 

We  admire  the  condescension  of  Jesus  in  leaving  Heaven  to 
dwell  upon  earth ;  but  do  we  equally  admire  the  condescension 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  coming  to  dwell  in  such  poor  hearts  as  ours  ? 
Jesus  dwelt  with  sinners,  but  the  Holy  Ghost  dwells  in  us. 

(4)  Where  the  Spirit  came,  the  work  was  carried  on  to  com- 
pletion. The  work  of  creation  did  not  end  with  the  first  day,  but 
went  on  till  it  was  finished  on  the  sixth  day.  God  did  not  say, 
"  I  have  made  the  light,  and  now  I  will  leave  the  earth  as  it  is  " ; 
and  when  He  had  begim  to  divide  the  waters,  and  to  separate  the 
land  from  the  sea.  He  did  not  say,  "  Now  I  will  have  no  more  to 
do  with  the  world."  He  did  not  take  the  newly  fashioned  earth 
in  His  hands,  and  fling  it  back  into  chaos ;  but  He  went  on  with 
His  work  until,  on  the  seventh  day,  when  it  was  completed.  He 
rested  from  all  His  work.  He  will  not  leave  unfinished  the  work 
which  He  has  commenced  in  our  souls.  Where  the  Spirit  of  God 
has  begun  to  move,  He  continues  to  move  imtil  the  work  is  done ; 
and  He  will  not  fail  or  turn  aside  until  all  is  accomplished.^ 

Burning  our  hearts  out  with  longing 

The  daylight  passed : 
Millions  and  millions  together, 

The  stars  at  last! 

Purple  the  woods  where  the  dewdrops, 

Pearly  and  grey. 
Wash  in  the  cool  from  our  faces 

The  flame  of  day. 

Glory  and  shadow  grow  one  in 

The  hazel  wood : 
Laughter  and  peace  in  the  stillness 

Together  brood. 

Hopes  all  unearthly  are  thronging 

In  hearts  of  earth: 
Tongues  of  the  starlight  are  calling 

Our  souls  to  birth. 

Down  from  the  heaven  its  secrets 

Drop  one  by  one; 
Where  time  is  for  ever  beginning 

And  time  is  done. 

'C.  H.  Spurgeon, 


36  LET  THERE  BE   LIGHT 

There  light  eternal  is  over 

Chaos  and  night: 
Singing  with  dawn  lips  for  ever, 

"Let  there  be  light!" 

There  too  for  ever  in  twilight 

Time  slips  away, 
Closing  in  darkness  and  rapture 

Its  awful  day.^ 


II. 

Light  out  of  Darkness. 

i.  Darkness. 

"  Darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep."  The  deep 
(Heb.  tehom)  is  not  here  what  the  deep  would  denote  to  us,  i.e. 
the  sea,  but  the  primitive  undivided  waters,  the  huge  watery  mass 
which  the  writer  conceived  as  enveloping  the  chaotic  earth. 
Milton  {Paradise  Lost,  vii.  276  ff.)  gives  an  excellent  paraphrase — 

The  Earth  was  formed,  but,  in  the  womb  as  yet 
Of  waters,  embryon,  immature,  involved, 
Appeared  not;  over  all  the  face  of  Earth 
Main  ocean  flowed. 

The  darkness  which  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep  is  a 
type  of  the  natural  darkness  of  the  fallen  intellect  that  is  ignorant 
of  God,  and  has  not  the  light  of  faith.  "  Behold,  the  darkness 
shall  cover  the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people."  Very  often 
in  Holy  Scripture  darkness  is  the  symbol  of  sin,  and  the  state  of 
those  who  are  separated  from  God.  Satan  is  the  prince  of  "  the 
power  of  darkness,"  while  in  God  there  "  is  no  darkness  at  alL" 

IT  The  intermixture  in  our  life  of  the  material  and  the 
spiritual  has  no  more  striking  illustration  than  in  the  influence 
upon  us  of  darkness.  The  "  power  of  darkness  "  is  a  real  power, 
and  that  apart  from  any  theological  considerations.  The  revolu- 
tion of  this  planet  on  its  axis,  which  for  a  certain  number  of  hours 
out  of  the  twenty-four  shuts  from  us  the  light  of  day,  has  had  in 
every  age  the  profoundest  effect  on  man's  inner  states.  It  has 
told  enormously  on  his  religion.  It  has  created  a  vocabulary — a 
^  A.  E.,  2%«  Diwim  Vision,  20. 


GENESIS  I.  2,  3  37 

very  sinister  one.  It  lies  at  the  origin  of  fear.  It  binds  the 
reason  and  sets  loose  the  imagination.  We  are  not  the  same  at 
midnight  as  at  midday.  The  child  mind,  and  the  savage  mind, 
which  is  80  closely  akin  to  it,  are  reawakened  in  us.  "  I  do  not 
believe  in  ghosts,"  said  Fontenelle,  "but  I  am  afraid  of  them." 
We  can  all  feel  with  him  there.^ 

ii.  God's  Word. 

1.  And  God  said. — This  gives  the  keynote  to  the  narrative, 
the  burden  ten  times  repeated,  of  this  magniiicent  poem.  To 
say  is  both  to  think  and  to  will.  In  this  speaking  of  God  there 
is  both  the  legislative  power  of  His  intelligence,  and  the  executive 
power  of  His  will ;  this  one  word  dispels  all  notion  of  blind 
matter,  and  of  brute  fatalism ;  it  reveals  an  enlightened  Power, 
an  intelligent  and  benevolent  Thought,  underlying  all  that  is. 

^  Says  Carlyle :  "  Man  is  properly  an  incarnated  word ;  the 
word  that  he  speaks  is  the  man  himself."  In  like  manner,  and 
with  still  more  truth,  might  it  be  said  of  God  that  His  Word  is 
Himself ;  only  John's  assertion  is  not  that  the  Word  is  God,  but 
that  it  was  God,  implying  is  of  course.' 

2.  And  at  the  same  time  that  this  word,  "And  God  said," 
appears  to  us  as  the  veritable  truth  of  things,  it  also  reveals  to 
us  their  true  value  and  legitimate  use.  Beautiful  and  beneficent 
as  the  work  may  be,  its  real  worth  is  not  in  itself ;  it  is  in  the 
thought  and  in  the  heart  of  the  Author  to  whom  it  owes  its 
existence.  Whenever  we  stop  short  in  the  work  itself,  our  enjoy- 
ment of  it  can  only  be  superficial,  and  we  are,  through  our  in- 
gratitude, on  the  road  to  an  idolatry  more  or  less  gross.  Our 
enjoyment  is  pure  and  perfect  only  when  it  results  from  the 
contact  of  our  soul  with  the  Author  Himself.  To  form  this  bond 
is  the  true  aim  of  Nature,  as  well  as  the  proper  destination  of  the 
life  of  man. 

IT  We  read,  "  God  created  " ;  "  God  made  " ;  "  God  saw  " ;  "  God 
divided";  "God  called";  "God  set";  "God  blessed";  "God 
formed  " ;  "  God  planted  "  ;  "  God  took  " ;  "  God  commanded  " ;  but 
the  most  frequent  word  here  is  "  God  said."  As  elsewhere,  "  He 
spake  and  it  was  done " ;  "  He  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out 
of  darkness " ;  "  the  worlds  were  framed  by  the  Word  of  God " ; 

*  J.  Brierley,  Life  and  the  Ideal,  248. 

•  J.  W.,  LetUr$  of  Yesterday,  48. 


38  LET  THERE  BE  LIGHT 

"  upholding  all  things  by  the  word  of  His  power."  God^s  "  word  " 
is  then  the  one  medium  or  link  between  Him  and  creation.  .  .  . 
The  frequency  with  which  it  is  repeated  shows  what  stress  Grod 
lays  on  it.  .  .  .  Between  the  "  nothing "  and  the  "  something " — 
non-existence  and  creation — there  intervenes  only  the  word — it 
needed  only  the  word,  no  more;  but  after  that  many  other 
agencies  come  in — second  causes,  natural  laws  and  processes — all 
evolving  the  great  original  fiat.  When  the  Son  of  God  was 
here  it  was  thus  He  acted.  He  spake :  "  Lazarus,  come  forth  " ; 
"  Young  man,  arise  " ;  "  Damsel,  arise  " ;  "  Be  opened,"  and  it  was 
done.  The  Word  was  still  the  medium.  It  is  so  now.  He  speaks 
to  us  (1)  in  Creation,  (2)  in  the  Word,  (3)  in  Providence,  (4)  by 
His  Sabbaths.! 

3.  This  word,  "  And  God  said,"  further  reveals  the  personality 
of  God.  Behind  this  veil  of  the  visible  universe  which  dazzles 
me,  behind  these  blind  forces  of  which  the  play  at  times  terror- 
strikes  me,  behind  this  regularity  of  seasons  and  this  fixedness 
of  laws,  which  almost  compel  me  to  recognize  in  all  things  only 
the  march  of  a  fixed  Fate,  this  word,  "  And  God  said,"  unveils  to 
me  an  Arm  of  might,  an  Eye  which  sees,  a  Heart  full  of  benevo- 
lence which  is  seeking  me,  a  Person  who  loves  me.  This  ray 
of  light  which,  as  it  strikes  upon  my  retina,  paints  there  with 
perfect  accuracy,  upon  a  surface  of  the  size  of  a  centime,  a  land- 
scape of  many  miles  in  extent — He  it  is  who  commanded  it  to 
shine. 

Be  kind  to  our  darkness,  0  Fashioner,  dwelling  in  light, 

And  feeding  the  lamps  of  the  sky ; 
Look  down  upon  this  one,  and  let  it  be  sweet  in  Thy  sight 

I  pray  Thee,  to-night. 
0  watch  whom  Thou  madest  to  dwell  on  its  soil.  Thou  Most 

High! 
For  this  is  a  world  full  of  sorrow  (there  may  be  but  one); 
Keep  watch  o'er  its  dust,  else  Thy  children  for  aye  are  undone, 

For  this  is  a  world  where  we  die.* 

iii.  Light 

1.  Let  there  be  light. — The  mention  of  this  Divine  command 
is  suflBcient  to  make  the  reader  understand  that  this  element, 
which  was  an  object  of  worship  to  bo  many  Oriental  nations,  is 

'  FToratiuj  Bonar.  •  Je*n  IiiRelow. 


GENESIS  I.  2,  3  39 

neither  an  eternal  principle  nor  the  product  of  blind  force,  but 
the  work  of  a  free  and  intelligent  will.  It  is  this  same  thought 
that  is  expressed  in  the  division  of  the  work  of  Creation  into 
six  days  and  six  nights.  The  Creation  is  thus  represented  under 
the  image  of  a  week  of  work,  during  which  an  active  and  intelli- 
gent workman  pursues  his  task,  through  a  series  of  phases, 
graduated  with  skill  and  calculated  with  certainty,  in  view  of  an 
end  definitely  conceived  from  the  first. 

^  "  Let  there  be  light."  This  is  at  once  the  motto  and  the 
condition  of  all  progress  that  is  worthy  of  the  name.  From  chaos 
into  order,  from  slumber  into  wakefulness,  from  torpor  into  the 
glow  of  life — yes,  and  "  from  strength  to  strength  " ;  it  has  been 
a  condition  of  progress  that  there  should  be  light.  God  saw  the 
light,  that  it  was  good. 

2.  The  Bible  is  not  a  handbook  of  science,  and  it  matters  little 
to  us  whether  its  narrative  concerning  the  origin  of  the  world 
meets  the  approval  of  the  learned  or  not.  The  truths  which  it 
enfolds  are  such  as  science  can  neither  displace  nor  disprove,  and 
which,  despite  the  strides  which  we  have  made,  are  yet  as  im- 
portant to  mankind  as  on  the  day  when  first  they  were  proclaimed. 
Over  the  portal  that  leads  to  the  sanctuary  of  Israel's  faith  is 
written,  in  characters  that  cannot  be  effaced,  the  truth  which  has 
been  the  hope  and  stay  of  the  human  race,  the  source  of  all  its 
bliss  and  inspiration, "  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day,  the  master 
light  of  all  our  seeing";  it  is  the  truth  that  there  is  a  central 
light  in  the  universe,  a  power  that  in  the  past  has  wrought  with 
wisdom  and  purposive  intelligence  the  order  and  harmony  of  this 
world  of  matter,  and  has  shed  abroad  in  the  human  heart  the 
creative  spark  which  shall  some  day  make  aglow  this  mundane 
sphere  with  the  warmth  and  radiance  of  justice,  truth,  and  loving- 
kindness.     "  Let  there  be  light :  and  there  was  light." 

^  Let  me  recall  to  your  remembrance  the  solemnity  and 
magnificence  with  which  the  power  of  God  in  the  creation  of  the 
universe  is  depicted ;  and  here  I  cannot  possibly  overlook  that 
passage  of  the  sacred  historian,  which  has  been  so  frequently 
commended,  in  which  the  importance  of  the  circumstance  and 
the  greatness  of  the  idea  (the  human  mind  cannot,  indeed,  well 
conceive  a  greater)  are  no  less  remarkable  than  the  expressive 
brevity  and  simplicity  of  the  language: — "And  God  said.  Let 
there  be  light :  and  there  was  light."     The  more  words  you  would 


40  LET  THERE  BE  LIGHT 

accumulate  upon  this  thought,  the  more  you  would  detract  from 
the  sublimity  of  it ;  for  the  understanding  quickly  comprehends 
the  Divine  Power  from  the  effect,  and  perhaps  most  completely 
when  it  is  not  attempted  to  be  explained ;  the  perception  in  that 
case  is  the  more  vivid,  inasmuch  as  it  seems  to  proceed  from  the 
proper  action  and  energy  of  the  mind  itself.  The  prophets  have 
also  depicted  the  same  conception  in  poetical  language,  and  with 
no  less  force  and  magnificence  of  expression.  The  whole  creation 
is  summoned  forth  to  celebrate  the  praise  of  the  Almighty — 

Let  them  praise  the  name  of  Jehovah; 
For  He  commanded,  and  they  were  created. 

And  in  another  place — 

For  He  spoke,  and  it  was; 

He  commanded,  and  it  stood  fast.* 

3.  In  creation  it  was  the  drawing  near  of  God,  and  the  utter- 
ance of  His  word,  that  dispersed  the  darkness.  In  the  Incarnation, 
the  Eternal  Word,  without  whom  "  was  not  anything  made  that 
was  made,"  drew  nigh  to  the  fallen  world  darkened  by  sin.  He 
came  as  the  Light  of  the  world,  and  His  coming  dispersed  the 
darkness.  On  the  first  Christmas  night  this  effect  of  the  Incarna- 
tion was  symbolized  when  to  the  "  shepherds  abiding  in  the  field, 
keeping  watch  over  their  flock  by  night  .  .  .  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shone  round 
about  them,"  The  message  to  the  shepherds  was  a  call  to  them 
and  to  the  world,  "  Arise,  shine ;  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee.  For,  behold,  the  darkness 
shall  cover  the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people:  but  the 
Lord  shall  arise  upon  thee,  and  his  glory  shall  be  seen  upon  thee. 
And  the  Gentiles  shall  come  to  thy  light,  and  kings  to  the  bright- 
ness of  thy  rising." 

^  Thirty  years  ago  last  December  I  went  to  a  place  where 
they  practised  cannibalism,  and  before  I  left  those  people  to  go  to 
New  Guinea,  and  start  a  mission  there,  so  completely  were  idolatry 
and  cannibalism  swept  away  that  a  gentleman  who  tried  to  get  an 
idol  to  bring  as  a  curiosity  to  this  country  could  not  find  one ; 
they  had  all  been  burnt,  or  disposed  of  to  other  travellers.  I  saw 
these  people  myself  leaving  their  cannibalism  and  their  idolatry, 
and   building  themselves   tolerably  good  houses.     We  had   our 

*  B.  Lowth,  Lecture*  on  the  Sacred  Poetry  of  the  Hebrews,  176. 


GENESIS  I.  2,  3  41 

institutions  among  them,  and  I  had  the  honour  of  training  a 
number  of  young  men  as  native  pastors  and  pioneer  teachers. 
What  is  the  use  of  talking  to  me  of  failure  ?  I  have  myself  baptized 
more  than  five  thousand  of  these  young  people — does  that  look 
like  failure?  In  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  these  men  were 
building  houses  and  churches  for  themselves,  and  attending 
schools,  and,  if  you  have  read  the  mission  reports,  you  will  know 
that  some  of  them  have  gone  forth  as  teachers  to  New  Guinea, 
and  across  New  Caledonia,  and  some  of  the  islands  of  the 
New  Hebrides.  The  people,  too,  have  been  contributing  hand- 
somely to  the  support  of  the  London  Missionary  Society,  for  the 
purpose  of  sending  the  Gospel,  as  they  say,  to  the  people  beyond. 
They  have  seen  what  a  blessing  it  has  been,  and  their  grand  idea 
is  to  hand  it  on  to  those  who  are  still  in  heathen  darkness.^ 

Meet  is  the  gift  we  ofiFer  here  to  Thee, 

Father  of  all,  as  falls  the  dewy  night; 

Thine  own  most  precious  gift  we  bring — the  light 
Whereby  mankind  Thy  other  bounties  see. 

Thou  art  the  Light  indeed;  on  our  dull  eyes 
And  on  our  inmost  souls  Thy  rays  are  poured; 
To  Thee  we  light  our  lamps:  receive  them.  Lord, 

Filled  with  the  oil  of  peace  and  sacrifice.^ 

*  S.  McFulanth  '  Prudeutius,  translated  by  B.  Martin  Pope, 


In  the  Image  of  God. 


Literature. 

Alford  (H.),  Quebec  Chapel  Sermons,  iv.  35. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  The  WorlcPs  Childhood,  186. 

Baring-Gould  (S.),  Village  Preaching,  ii.  9. 

Bernard  (J.  H.),  Via  Domini,  41. 

Brown  (J.  B.),  The  Home  Life,  1. 

Campbell  (R.  J.),  Thursday  Mornings  at  the  City  Temple,  1. 

Church  (R.  W.),  Village  Sermons,  iii.  64. 

Clifford  (J.),  Typical  Christian  Leaders,  215. 

Cobern  (C.  M.),  The  Stars  and  the  Book,  78. 

Coyle  (R.  F.),  The  Church  and  the  Times,  175. 

Dale  (R.  W.),  Christian  Doctrine,  170. 

Gibbon  (J.  M.),  The  Image  of  God,  1. 

Goodwin  (H.),  Parish  Sermons,  5th  Ser.,  1. 

Horwill  (H.  W.),  The  Old  Gospel  in  the  New  Era,  53. 

Hughes  (D.),  The  Making  of  Man,  9. 

Kingsley  (C),  The  Gospel  of  the  Pentateuch,  19. 

Lefroy  (W.),  The  Immmtality  of  Memory,  229. 

Lewis  (E.  W,),  Some  Views  of  Modern  I%eology,  169. 

Maclaren  (A.),  Expositions  :  Genesis. 

Matheson  (G.),  Leaves  for  Quiet  Hours,  37. 

„  Searchings  in  the  Silence,  215. 

Murray  (A,),  With  Christ,  137. 
Orr  (J.),  God's  Image  in  Man,  34. 
Robinson  (F.),  College  and  Ordination  Addresses,  47,  53. 
Selby  (T.  G.),  The  Lesson  of  a  Dilemma,  264. 
Weeks  (G.  E.),  Watered  Lives,  49. 
Woodford  (J.  R.),  Sermons  in  Various  Churches,  33. 
Christian  Age,  xrv.  212  (Vaughan). 
Christum  World  Pulpit,  xvi.  218  (Williams);  xviii.  17  (Brooke);  xix, 

369  (Vaughan)  ;  1.  419  (Bliss)  j  Ivi.  4  (Parr). 
Chuirchman's  Pulpit  (Trinity  Sunday),  ix.  272  (Goodwin). 
Exposiior,  4th  Ser.,  iii.  125  (Ferowne). 
Expository  Times,  iii.  410  (Pinches)  ;  x.  72. 
Preacher's  Magazine  for  1891,  145, 193  (Selby). 
Treavary  (New  York),  xiii.  196. 


In  the  Image  of  God. 

And  God  s^d,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  ima^e,  after  our  likeness :  and  let 
them  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and 
over  the  cattle,  and  over  all  the  earth,  and  over  every  creeping  thing  that 
creepeth  upon  the  earth.  And  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in 
the  image  of  God  created  he  him;  male  and  female  created  he  them.— - 
Gen.  i.  26,  27. 

God  made  the  light  and  the  sun,  and  they  were  very  good.  He 
made  the  seas  and  the  mountains,  and  they  were  very  good. 
He  made  the  fishes  of  the  water,  and  the  birds  of  the  air,  and 
the  beasts  of  the  field — all  that  wonderful  creation  of  life,  which, 
dull  and  unbelieving  as  we  are,  daily  more  and  more  excites  our 
endless  wonder  and  awe  and  praise — and  He  saw  that  it  was  all 
very  good.  He  made  the  herb  of  the  field,  everything  that  grows, 
everything  that  lives  on  the  face  of  this  beautiful  and  glorious 
world,  and  all  was  very  good.  But  of  all  this  good  the  etid  was 
not  yet  reached.  There  was  still  something  better  to  be  made. 
Great  lights  in  the  firmament,  and  stars  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
thought  of  man  in  the  depth  of  space,  sea  and  mountain,  green 
tree  and  gay  flower,  tribes  of  living  creatures  in  the  deep  below 
and  the  deep  above  of  the  sky,  four-footed  beasts  of  the  earth  in 
their  strength  and  beauty,  and  worms  that  live  out  of  the  sight 
and  knowledge  of  all  other  creatures — these  were  all  as  great 
and  marvellous  as  we  know  them  to  be ;  these  were  all  said  to  be 
"  very  good  "  by  that  Voice  which  had  called  them  into  being. 
Heaven  and  earth  were  filled  with  the  majesty  of  His  glory.  But 
they  were  counted  up,  one  by  one,  because  they  were  not  enough 
for  Him  to  make,  not  enough  for  Him  to  satisfy  Him  by  their 
goodness.  He  reckoned  them  all  up;  He  pronounced  on  their 
excellence.  But  yet  there  was  something  which  they  had  not 
reached  to.  There  was  something  still  to  be  made,  which  should 
be  yet  greater,  yet  more  wonderful,  yet  more  good  than  they. 
There  was  a  beauty  which,  with  all  their  beauty,  they  could  not 


46  IN  THE   IMAGE  OF  GOD 

reach;  a  perfection  which,  with  all  their  excellence,  they  were 
not  meant,  or  made,  to  share.  They  declared  the  glory  of  God, 
but  not  His  likeness.  They  displayed  the  handiwork  of  His 
wisdom,  but  they  shared  not  in  His  spirit,  His  thoughts.  His 
holiness.  So,  after  their  great  glory,  came  a  yet  greater  glory. 
The  living  soul,  like  unto  God,  had  not  yet  been  made.  Then 
said  God,  "  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness." 
There  was  made  the  great  step  from  the  wonder  and  beauty  of 
the  world,  to  the  creation  of  man,  with  a  soul  and  spirit  more 
wonderful,  more  excellent,  than  all  the  excellence  and  wonders  of 
the  world,  because  it  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  that  great  and 
holy  and  good  God  who  made  the  world. 

1.  The  foundations  of  the  Biblical  doctrine  of  man  are  firmly 
laid,  at  the  very  commencement  of  his  history,  in  the  accounts 
given  of  his  creation.  In  this  narrative  of  creation  in  the 
opening  chapter  of  Genesis  we  have  the  noblest  of  possible 
utterances  regarding  man :  "  God  created  man  in  his  own  image." 
The  manner  in  which  that  declaration  is  led  up  to  is  hardly  less 
remarkable  than  the  utterance  itself. 

2.  The  last  stage  in  the  work  of  creation  has  been  reached, 
and  the  Creator  is  about  to  produce  His  masterpiece.  But,  as  if 
to  emphasize  the  importance  of  this  event,  and  to  prepare  us  for 
something  new  and  exceptional,  the  form  of  representation  changes. 
Hitherto  the  simple  fiat  of  omnipotence  has  sufl&ced — "  God  said." 
Now  the  Creator — Elohim  —  is  represented  as  taking  counsel 
with  Himself  (for  no  other  is  mentioned) :  "  Let  us  make  man  in 
our  image,  after  our  likeness  " ;  and  in  the  next  verse,  with  the 
employment  of  the  stronger  word  "  created  "  (hara),  the  execution 
of  this  purpose  is  narrated :  "  So  God  created  man  in  his  own 
image,  in  the  image  of  God  created  he  him;  male  and  female 
created  he  them." 

^  We  are  told  that  the  language  in  which  that  creation  is 
spoken  of,  i.e.  "  Let  us  make  man,"  implies  the  doctrine  of  a 
plurality  of  persons  in  the  Deity;  in  other  words,  the  author, 
whose  avowed  object  it  was  to  teach  the  unity  of  God,  so  far 
forgot  himself  as  to  teach  the  contrary.  We  are  told  again  that 
we  are  to  found  on  this  account  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
There  is  no  reason,  only  ignorance,  in  such  a  view.     The  Hebrew 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  47 

when  he  wanted  to  speak  of  anything  majestic,  spoke  in  the 
plural,  not  in  the  singular.  He  spoke  of  "  heavens,"  not  of 
heaven.  In  the  same  way  he  spoke  of  Gods,  yet  meaning  only 
One.  Exactly  in  the  same  way  the  courtesy  of  modern  ages  has 
substituted  "you"  for  "thou";  and  here  the  very  form  of  the 
writer's  language  required  that  he  should  put  "  us "  instead  of 
"  me "  in  speaking  of  the  majesty  of  God.  Further,  to  look  for 
the  Trinity  here  would  be  utterly  to  reverse  the  whole  method 
of  God's  revelation.  We  know  from  our  own  lives  that  God 
does  things  gradually,  and  we  conclude  that  He  did  the  same 
with  His  chosen  people.  He  had  to  teach  them  first  the  unity 
of  the  Godhead;  the  nature  of  that  unity  was  to  be  taught 
afterwards.  Conceive  what  would  have  been  the  result  in  an 
age  of  polytheism  of  teaching  the  Trinity,  The  doctrine  would 
have  inevitably  degenerated  into  tritheism.^ 

The  subject  is  the  creation  of  man  in  the  image  of  God. 
There  are  two  ways  of  looking  at  it :  (1)  in  its  entirety,  as  we 
look  at  the  white  light;  and  (2)  in  its  component  parts,  as  we 
see  the  light  in  a  rainbow.    Then  we  have — 

I.  The  Image  of  God  in  itself. 

1.  Image  and  Likeness  are  not  distinct. 

2.  The  Image  is  not  Dominion. 

3.  The  Image  is  of  the  whole  Personality. 

4.  The  Image  was  not  wholly  lost. 
II.  The  Parts  of  the  Image. 

1.  Keason. 

2.  Self-consciousness. 

3.  Kecognition  of  Eight  and  Wrong. 

4.  Communion  with  God. 

5.  Capacity  for  Redemption. 

Then  will  follow  two  practical  conclusions,  and  the  text  will 
be  set  in  its  place  beside  two  other  texts. 

L 

The  Image  of  God. 

1.  No  distinction  is  to  be  made  between  the  words  "  image  " 
and  "likeness."    In   patristic   and   mediaeval  theology  much  ia 

^  F,  W.  Robertson. 


48  IN  THE   IMAGE  OF  GOD 

made  of  the  circumstance  that  two  words  are  used,  the  former 
being  taken  to  mean  man's  natural  endowments,  the  latter  a 
superadded  gift  of  righteousness.  But  the  words  are  synonymous. 
"  Likeness  "  is  added  to  "  image  "  for  emphasis.  The  repetition 
imparts  a  rhythmic  movement  to  the  language,  which  may  be  a 
faint  echo  of  an  old  hymn  on  the  glory  of  man,  like  Ps.  viii. 

2.  The  view  that  the  Divine  image  consists  in  dominion  over 
the  creatures  cannot  be  held  without  an  almost  inconceivable 
weakening  of  the  figure,  and  is  inconsistent  with  the  sequel, 
where  the  rule  over  the  creatures  is,  by  a  separate  benediction, 
conferred  on  man,  already  made  in  the  image  of  Grod,  The  truth 
is  that  the  image  marks  the  distinction  between  man  and  the 
animals,  and  so  qualifies  him  for  dominion:  the  latter  is  the 
consequence,  not  the  essence,  of  the  Divine  image. 

^  With  respect  to  man  himself  we  are  told  on  the  one  side 
that  he  is  dust,  "  formed  of  the  dust  of  the  earth."     The  phrase 
marks  our  affinity  to  the  lower  animals.     It  is  a  humbling  thing 
to  see  how  little  different  the  form  of  man's  skeleton  is  from  that 
of  the  lower  animals ;  more  humbling  still  when  we  compare  their 
inward  physiological  constitution  with  our  own.     Herein  man  is 
united  to  the  beasts.     But  "  God  breathed  into  man's  nostrils  the 
breath  of  life " :  herein  he  is  united  to  the  Deity.     The  heathen, 
recognizing  in  their  own  way  the  spiritual  in  man,  tried  to  bridge 
over  the  chasm  between  it  and  the  earthly  by  making  God  more 
human.     The  way  of  revelation,  on  the  contrary,  is  to  make  man 
more  godlike,  to  tell  of  the  Divine  idea  yet  to  be  realized  in  his 
nature.     Nor  have  we  far  to  go  to  find  some  of  the  traces  of  this 
Divine  in  human  nature.     (1)  We  are  told  that  God  is  just  and 
pure  and  holy.     What  is  the  meaning  of  these  words  ?     Speak  to 
the  deaf  man  of  hearing,  or  the  blind  of  light,  he  knows  not  what 
you  mean.    And  so  to  talk  of  God  as  good  and  just  and  pure 
implies  that  there  is  goodness,  justice,  purity,  within  the  mind  of 
man.     (2)  We  find  in  man  the  sense  of  the  infinite :  just  as  truly 
as  God  is  boundless  is  the  soul  of  man  boundless ;  there  is  some- 
thing boundless,  infinite,  in  the  sense  of  justice,  in  the  sense  of 
truth,  in  the  power  of  self-sacrifice.     (3)  In  man's  creative  power 
there  is  a  resemblance  to  God.     He  has  filled  the  world  with  his 
creations.     It  is   his  special   privilege  to  subdue  the  power  of 
nature   to   himself.      He   has   forced    the    lightning   to   be   his 
messenger,  has  put  a  girdle  round  the  earth,  has  climbed  up  to 
the  clouds  and  penetrated  down  to  the  depths  of  the  sea.     He 
has  turned  the  forces  of  Nature  against  herself ;  commanding  the 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  49 

winds  to  help  him  in  braving  the  sea.  And  marvellous  as  is 
man's  rule  over  external,  dead  nature,  more  marvellous  still  is  his 
rule  over  animated  nature.  To  see  the  trained  falcon  strike  down 
the  quarry  at  the  feet  of  his  master,  and  come  back,  when  God's 
free  heaven  is  before  him ;  to  see  the  hound  use  his  speed  in  the 
service  of  his  master,  to  take  a  prey  not  to  be  given  to  himself ; 
to  see  the  camel  of  the  desert  carrying  man  through  his  own 
home:  all  these  show  the  creative  power  of  man  and  his 
resemblance  to  God  the  Creator.  Once  more,  God  is  a  God  of 
order.  The  universe  in  which  God  reigns  is  a  domain  in  which 
order  reigns  from  first  to  last,  in  which  everything  has  its  place, 
its  appointed  position ;  and  the  law  of  man's  life,  as  we  have  seen, 
is  also  order.^ 

There  is  no  progress  in  the  world  of  bees, 

However  wise  and  wonderful  they  are.     Lies  the  bar, 

To  wider  goals,  in  that  tense  strife  to  please 

A  Sovereign  Kuler?     Forth  from  flowers  to  trees 

Their  little  quest  is;   not  from  star  to  star. 

This  is  not  growth;   the  mighty  avatar 

Comes  not  to  do  his  work  with  such  as  these.^ 

3.  The  image  or  likeness  is  not  that  of  the  body  only,  or  of 
the  spirit  only,  but  of  the  whole  personality. 

(1)  It  is  perfectly  certain  that  the  Hebrews  did  not  suppose 
this  likeness  to  God  to  consist  in  any  physical  likeness.  It  is  the 
doctrine  of  the  Old  Testament  as  well  as  of  the  New  that  God  is 
a  Spirit ;  and,  although  He  may  have  manifested  Himself  to  men 
in  human  or  angelic  shape,  He  has  no  visible  form,  and  cannot 
and  must  not  be  represented  by  any.  "  Thou  sawest  no  form  or 
similitude"  (Deut.  iv.  12).  The  image  does  not,  directly  at  least, 
denote  external  appearance ;  we  must  look  for  the  resemblance  to 
God  chiefly  in  man's  spiritual  nature  and  spiritual  endowments, 
in  his  freedom  of  will,  in  his  self-consciousness,  in  his  reasoning 
power,  in  his  sense  of  that  which  is  above  nature,  the  good,  the 
true,  the  eternal;  in  his  conscience,  which  is  the  voice  of  God 
within  him ;  in  his  capacity  for  knowing  God  and  holding  com- 
munion with  Him ;  in  a  word,  in  all  that  allies  him  to  God,  al 
that  raises  him  above  sense  and  time  and  merely  material  con- 
siderations, all  that  distinguishes  him  from,  and  elevates  him 
above,  the  brutes.     So   the  writer   of   the   apocryphal  Book  of 

*  F.  W.  Robertson.  '  E.  W.  Wilcox,  Poems  of  Experience,  72. 

GEN.-NUM. — 4 


50  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

Wisdom  says :  "  God  created  man  to  be  immortal,  and  made  him 
an  image  of  his  own  eternity  "  (ii.  23). 

(2)  On  the  other  hand,  that  this  Divine  image  expresses  itself 
and  is  seen  in  man's  outward  form  cannot  be  denied.  In  looks,  in 
bearing,  in  the  conscious  dignity  of  rule  and  dominion,  there  is  a 
reflection  of  this  Divine  image.  St.  Augustine  tries  to  make  out 
a  trinity  in  the  human  body,  as  before  in  the  human  mind,  which 
shall  correspond  in  its  measure  to  the  Divine  Trinity.  Neverthe- 
less, he  says  modestly :  "  Let  us  endeavour  to  trace  in  man's  out- 
ward form  some  kind  of  footstep  of  the  Trinity,  not  because  it  is 
of  itself  in  the  same  way  (as  the  inward  being)  the  image  of  God. 
For  the  apostle  says  expressly  that  it  is  the  inner  man  that  is 
renewed  after  the  image  of  Him  that  created  him ;  and  again, 
*  Though  the  outward  man  perish,  yet  the  inward  man  is  renewed 
day  by  day.'  Let  us  then  look  as  far  as  it  is  possible  in  that 
which  perisheth  for  a  kind  of  likeness  to  the  Trinity ;  and  if  not 
one  more  express,  at  least  one  that  may  be  more  easily  discerned. 
The  very  term  '  outward  man '  denotes  a  certain  similitude  to  the 
inward  man." 

(3)  But  the  truth  is  that  we  cannot  cut  man  in  two.  The 
inward  being  and  the  outward  have  their  correspondences  and 
their  affinities,  and  it  is  of  the  compound  being  man,  fashioned  of 
the  dust  of  the  earth  and  yet  filled  with  the  breath  of  God,  that 
it  is  declared  that  he  was  created  after  the  image  of  God.  The 
ground  and  source  of  this  his  prerogative  in  creation  must  be 
sought  in  the  Incarnation.  It  is  this  great  mystery  that  lies  at 
the  root  of  man's  being.  He  is  like  God,  he  is  created  in  the 
image  of  God,  he  is,  in  St.  Paul's  words,  the  "  image  and  glory  of 
God  "  (1  Cor.  xi.  7),  because  the  Son  of  God  took  man's  nature  in 
the  womb  of  His  virgin  mother,  thereby  uniting  for  ever  the 
manhood  and  the  Godhead  in  one  adorable  Person.  This  was  the 
Divine  purpose  before  the  world  was,  and  hence  this  creation  of 
man  was  the  natural  consummation  of  all  God's  work. 

4.  And  it  is  important  to  remember  that  the  "  image  of  God," 
according  to  Hebrew  thought,  was  not  completely  lost,  however 
seriously  it  may  have  been  impaired,  by  what  is  described  as  the 
Fall.  In  Gen.  v.  1-3,  we  read,  "  In  the  day  that  God  created  man, 
in  the  likeness  of  God  made  he  him ;  male  and  female  created  he 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  51 

them ;  .  .  .  and  called  their  name  Adam,  in  the  day  when  they 
were  created.  And  Adam  .  .  .  begat  a  son  in  his  own  likeness, 
after  his  image;  and  called  his  name  Seth" — meaning  that, 
as  Adam  was  created  in  the  image  of  God,  Seth  inherited  that 
image.  After  the  flood,  God  is  represented  as  saying  to  Noah, 
"  Whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed : 
for  in  the  image  of  God  made  he  man."  Murder  is  a  kind  of 
sacrilege ;  to  kill  a  man  is  to  destroy  the  life  of  a  creature  created 
in  the  Divine  image;  the  crime  is  to  be  punished  with  death, 
James,  too,  in  his  epistle,  insists  that  the  desperate  wickedness  of 
the  tongue  is  shown  in  its  reckless  disregard  of  the  Divine  image 
in  man,  "  Therewith  bless  we  the  Lord  and  Father ;  and  therewith 
curse  we  men,  which  are  made  in  the  image  of  God  " ;  in  cursing 
men  we  therefore  show  a  want  of  reverence  for  God  Himself,  in 
whose  image  they  were  made,  and  are  guilty  of  a  certain  measure 
of  profanity.  The  "  image  of  God,"  therefore,  according  to  these 
ancient  Scriptures,  does  not  necessarily  include  moral  and  spiritual 
perfection;  it  must  include  the  possibility  of  achieving  it;  it 
reveals  the  Divine  purpose  that  man  should  achieve  it ;  but  man, 
even  after  he  has  sinned,  still  retains  the  "  image  of  God  "  in  the 
sense  in  which  it  is  attributed  to  him  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures. 
It  belongs  to  his  nature,  not  to  his  character.  Man  was  made  in 
the  "  image  of  God  "  because  he  is  a  free,  intelligent,  self-conscious, 
and  moral  Personality. 

^  I  have  been  told  that  there  is  in  existence,  amongst  the 
curiosities  of  a  Continental  museum,  a  brick  from  the  walls  of 
ancient  Babylon  which  bears  the  imprint  of  one  of  Babylon's 
mighty  kings.  Eight  over  the  centre  of  the  royal  cypher  is  deeply 
impressed  the  footprint  of  one  of  the  pariah  dogs  which  wandered 
about  that  ancient  city.  It  was  the  invariable  custom  in  ancient 
Babylon  to  stamp  the  bricks  used  for  public  works  with  the  cypher 
of  the  reigning  monarch,  and  while  this  particular  brick  was  lying 
in  its  soft  and  plastic  state,  some  wandering  dog  had,  apparently 
accidentally,  trodden  upon  it.  Long  ages  have  passed.  The  king's 
image  and  superscription  is  visible,  but  defaced — well-nigh  illegible, 
almost  obliterated.  The  name  of  that  mighty  ruler  cannot  be 
deciphered ;  the  footprint  of  the  dog  is  clear,  sharply  defined,  deeply 
impressed,  as  on  the  day  on  which  it  was  made.  So  far  as  any 
analogy  will  hold  (which  is  not  very  far),  it  is  an  instructive  type 
of  the  origin  and  the  dual  construction  of  the  human  race.  Suiffer 
the  imagination  to  wander  back — far,  far  back — into  the  unthink- 


52  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

able  past,  and  conceive  the  All-creating  Spirit  obeying  the  para- 
mount necessity  of  His  nature,  which  is  Love,  and  bringing  into 
existence  the  race  called  man.  As  the  outbirth  of  God — as  Divine 
Spirit  differentiated  into  separate  entities — man  could  not  be  other 
than  deeply  impressed,  stamped  with  the  cypher  of  his  Father's 
image  and  likeness ;  the  mark  of  the  King  is  upon  him.  Obviously, 
however,  he  is  not  yet  ready  to  be  built  into  that  great  temple  of 
imperishable  beauty,  fit  to  be  the  habitation  of  the  Eternal,  which 
is  the  ultimate  design  of  God  for  man.  A  responsible  being,  per- 
fected and  purified,  tested  and  found  faithful,  cannot  be  made ;  he 
must  grow ;  and  to  grow  he  must  be  resisted.  He  must  emerge 
pure  from  deep  contrasts ;  contradiction  being  a  law  of  moral  life, 
contradiction  must  be  provided.  And  therefore,  while  still  in  his 
plastic  state,  while  still  in  the  unhardened,  inchoate  condition 
indicated  in  the  sweet  pastoral  idyll  of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  there 
comes  by  the  wandering  dog — the  allegorical  impersonation  of  the 
animal  nature,  the  embodiment  of  the  lower  appetite,  the  partial 
will,  the  Ahriman  of  the  Zoroastrian,  the  Satan  of  post-captivity 
Judaism — and  he,  metaphorically,  puts  his  foot  upon  him.  Eight 
over  the  King's  impress  goes  the  mark  of  the  beast,  apparently 
defacing  the  cypher  of  the  Kiug ;  in  other  words,  humanity  gave 
heed  to  the  lower  psychical  suggestion,  in  opposition  to  the  higher 
dictate  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  The  partial  will  severed  itself  from 
the  universal  will,  and,  as  it  is  expressed  in  theological  language, 
though  not  in  scriptural  language,  man  fell.^ 

Why  do  I  dare  love  all  mankind? 
'Tis  not  because  each  face,  each  form 

Is  comely,  for  it  is  not  so; 
Nor  is  it  that  each  soul  is  warm 

With  any  Godlike  glow. 
Yet  there's  no  one  to  whom's  not  given 
Some  little  lineament  of  heaven. 
Some  partial  symbol,  at  the  least,  in  sign 
Of  what  should  be,  if  it  is  not,  within, 
Reminding  of  the  death  of  sin 

And  life  of  the  Divine. 
There  was  a  time,  full  well  I  know, 

When  I  had  not  yet  seen  you  so; 
Time  was,  when  few  seemed  fair; 
But  now,  as  through  the  streets  I  go, 

There  seems  no  face  so  shapeless,  so 

Forlorn,  but  that  there's  something  there 

»  B.  Wilberforofc 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  53 

That,  like  the  heavens,  doth  declare 

The  glory  of  the  great  All-Fair; 
And  so  mine  own  each  one  I  call ; 
And  so  1  dare  to  love  you  all.^ 


II. 

The  Pakts  of  the  Imagk 

i.  Reason. 

1.  In  speaking  of  man  as  being  created  in  the  image  of  God, 
one  must  speak  first  of  the  intellectual  powers  with  which  man 
has  been  endowed.  Nothing  can  surprise  us  more  than  the 
marvellous  results  of  human  science,  the  power  which  mankind 
have  exhibited  in  scanning  the  works  of  God,  reducing  them  to 
law,  detecting  the  hidden  harmony  in  the  apparent  confusion  of 
creation,  demonstrating  the  fine  adjustment  and  delicate  con- 
struction of  the  material  universe :  and  if  the  wisdom  and  power 
of  God  occupy  the  first  place  in  the  mind  of  one  who  contemplates 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  certainly  the  second  place  must  be 
reserved  for  admiration  of  the  wonderful  mind  with  which  man 
has  been  endowed,  the  powers  of  which  enable  him  thus  to  study 
the  works  of  God. 

2.  As  regards  his  intellectual  powers,  consider  that  man  is, 
like  God,  a  creator.  Works  of  Art,  whether  useful  or  ornamental, 
are,  and  are  often  called,  creations.  How  manifold  are  the  new 
discoveries,  the  new  inventions,  which  man  draws  forth,  year 
after  year,  from  his  creative  genius — the  timepiece,  the 
microscope,  the  steamship,  the  steam-carriage,  the  sun-picture, 
the  electric  telegraph !  All  these  things  originally  lay  wrapped 
up  in  the  human  brain,  and  are  its  offspring.  Look  at  the  whole 
fabric  of  civilization,  which  is  built  up  by  the  several  arts.  What 
a  creation  it  is,  how  curious,  how  varied,  how  wonderful  in  all 
its  districts!  Just  as  God  has  His  universe,  in  which  are 
mirrored  the  eternal,  archetypal  Ideas  of  the  Divine  Mind,  so 
this  civilization  is  Ma'^'s  universe,  the  aggregate  product  of  his 
intelligence  and  activity.  It  may  possibly  suggest  itself  here 
that  some  of  the  lower  animals  are  producers  no  less  than  man. 

J  H.  S.  Sutton, 


54  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

And  so  they  are,  in  virtue  of  the  instinct  with  which  the 
Almighty  has  endowed  them.  The  bird  is  the  artisan  of  her 
nest,  the  bee  of  his  cell,  the  beaver  of  his  hut.  But  they  are 
artisans  only,  working  by  a  rule  furnished  to  them,  not  architects, 
designing  out  of  their  own  mental  resources.  They  are  producers 
only,  not  creators ;  they  never  make  a  variation,  in  the  way  of 
improvement,  on  foregone  productions;  and  we  argue  con- 
clusively that  because  they  do  not  make  it,  they  can  never  make 
it.  Instinct  dictates  to  them,  as  they  work,  "line  upon  line, 
precept  upon  precept " ;  but  there  is  no  single  instance  of  their 
rising  above  this  level — of  their  speculating  upon  an  original 
design,  and  contriving  the  means  whereby  it  may  be  carried  into 
effect.  But  the  creative  faculty  of  man  is  still  more  evident  in 
the  ornamental  arts,  because  here,  more  obviously  than  in  the 
useful,  man  works  according  to  no  preconceived  method  or 
imposed  condition,  but  throws  out  of  his  brain  that  which  is  new 
and  original.  A  new  melody,  a  new  drama,  a  new  picture,  a  new 
poem,  are  they  not  all  (some  more,  some  less,  in  proportion  to 
the  originality  of  the  conception  which  is  in  them)  creations? 
Is  not  this  the  very  meaning  of  the  word  "  poem,"  in  the  language 
from  which  it  is  drawn — a  thing  made,  a  piece  of  workmanship  ? 
So  that,  in  respect  of  the  rich  and  varied  developments  of  the 
human  mind  in  the  different  forms  of  Art,  we  need  not  hesitate 
to  call  man  a  creator.  And  this  is  the  first  aspect  under  which 
God  is  presented  to  us  in  Holy  Scripture;  "In  the  beginning 
God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth." 

^  A  thing  should  be  denominated  from  its  noblest  attribute, 
as  man  from  reason,  not  from  sense  or  from  anything  else  less 
noble.  So  when  we  say,  "  Man  lives,"  it  ought  to  be  interpreted, 
"  Man  makes  use  of  his  reason,"  which  is  the  special  life  of  man, 
and  the  actualization  of  his  noblest  part.  Consequently  he  who 
abandons  the  use  of  his  reason,  and  lives  by  his  senses  only, 
leads  the  life  not  of  a  man,  but  of  an  animal;  as  the  most 
excellent  Boethius  puts  it,  he  lives  the  life  of  an  ass.  And  this 
I  hold  to  be  quite  right,  because  thought  is  the  peculiar  act  of 
reason,  and  animals  do  not  think,  because  they  are  not  endued 
with  reason.  And  when  I  speak  of  animals,  I  do  not  refer  to 
the  lower  animals  only,  but  I  mean  to  include  also  those  who 
in  outward  appearance  are  men,  but  spiritually  are  no  better 
than  sheep,  or  any  other  equally  contemptible  brute.^ 

>  Dante,  Conv.  ii.  8  (trans,  by  Paget  Toynbee), 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  55 

ii.  Self-consciousness. 

Man  is  not  only  conscious,  but  also  S(?Z/"-consciou8.  He  can  turn 
his  mind  back  in  reflection  on  himself ;  can  apprehend  himself ; 
can  speak  of  himself  as  "  I."  This  consciousness  of  self  is  an 
attribute  of  personality  which  constitutes  a  difference,  not  in 
degree,  but  in  kind,  between  the  human  and  the  merely  animal. 
No  brute  has  this  power.  None,  however  elevated  in  the  scale 
of  power,  can  properly  be  spoken  of  as  a  person.  The  sanctity 
that  surrounds  personality  does  not  attach  to  it. 

^  Man's  greatest  possibility  lies  in  the  knowledge  of  himself. 
Most  people  know  more  of  minerals  than  of  men;  more  about 
training  horses  than  children.  The  day  is  coming  when  the 
education  of  a  child  will  begin  at  birth;  when  mothers,  who, 
because  of  their  opportunities,  ought  to  be  better  psychologists 
than  any  university  professor,  will  become  not  only  trained 
scientific  observers  of  mental  phenomena,  but  directors  of  it. 
Even  puppies  have  been  so  trained  that  they  could  surpass  many 
artists  in  their  discrimination  between  colours,  and  by  this 
training  the  brain  has  been  observed  to  grow  enormously.  It 
looks  as  if  man  might  not  only  develop  the  brain  he  has,  but 
add  to  it  and  build  up  a  new  brain — and  thus  practically  create 
a  new  human  race.  I  hope  this  may  prove  true.  Man  is  a  spirit, 
child  of  the  Infinite  Spirit,  capable  of  using  the  best  physical 
machinery  with  ease ;  better  machinery  than  he  now  has.^ 

Hi.  Recognition  of  Right  and  Wrong. 

The  great  distinction  between  right  and  wrong  belongs  to 
man  alone.  An  animal  may  be  taught  that  it  is  not  to  do  certain 
things,  but  it  is  because  these  things  are  contrary  to  its  master's 
wish,  not  because  they  are  wrong.  Some  persons  have  en- 
deavoured to  make  out  that  the  distinction  between  right  and 
wrong  on  the  part  of  ourselves  is  quite  arbitrary,  that  we  call 
that  right  which  we  find  on  the  whole  to  be  advantageous,  and 
that  wrong  which  on  the  whole  tends  to  mischief;  but  the 
conscience  of  mankind  is  against  this  scheme  of  philosophy. 
That  the  wickedness  of  mankind  has  made  fearful  confusion 
between  right  and  wrong,  and  that  men  very  often  by  their 
conduct  appear  to  approve  of  that  which  they  ought  not  to 
approve,  is  very  true ;  and  that  men  may  fall,  by  a  course  of  vice, 

1  0.  M.  Cobe^^. 


56  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

into  such  a  condition  that  their  moral  sense  is  fearfully  blunted, 
is  also  true :  but  this  does  not  prove  the  absence  of  a  sense  of 
right  and  wrong  from  a  healthy  mind,  any  more  than  the  case 
of  ever  so  many  blind  men  would  prove  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  sight.  No — the  general  conscience  of  mankind  admits 
the  truth  which  is  assumed  in  Scripture,  namely,  that  man, 
however  far  gone  from  original  righteousness,  does  nevertheless 
recognize  the  excellence  of  what  is  good,  that  he  delights  in  the 
law  of  God  after  the  inward  man,  even  though  he  may  find 
another  law  in  his  members  bringing  him  into  captivity.  This 
sense  of  what  is  right  and  good,  which  existed  in  man  in  his 
state  of  purity,  and  which  has  survived  the  fall  and  forms  the 
very  foundation  upon  which  we  can  build  hopes  of  his  restoration 
to  the  favour  of  God,  is  a  considerable  portion  of  that  which  is 
described  as  God's  image  in  which  man  was  created. 

IF  Darwin  opens  his  chapter  on  the  moral  sense  with  this 
acknowledgment:  "I  fully  subscribe  to  the  judgment  of  those 
writers  who  maintain  that,  of  all  the  differences  between  man 
and  the  lower  animals,  the  moral  sense  or  conscience  is  by  far 
the  most  important.  This  sense  is  summed  up  in  that  short  but 
imperious  word,  'ought,'  so  full  of  high  significance.  It  is  the 
most  noble  of  all  the  attributes  of  man."  ^ 

T  What !  will  I  ca'  a  man  my  superior,  because  he's  cleverer 
than  mysel'  ?  Will  I  boo  down  to  a  bit  o'  brains,  ony  mair  than 
to  a  stock  or  a  stane  ?  Let  a  man  prove  himsel'  better  than  me — 
honester,  humbler,  kinder,  wi'  mair  sense  o'  the  duty  o'  man,  an' 
the  weakness  o'  man — an'  that  man  I'll  acknowledge — that  man's 
my  king,  my  leader,  though  he  war  as  stupid  as  Eppe  Dalgleish, 
that  couldna  count  five  on  her  fingers,  and  yet  keepit  her 
drucken  father  by  her  ain  hands'  labour  for  twenty-three 
yeers.2 

IT  Devoid  of  the  very  taint  of  ambition,  Dean  Church  obtained 
a  singular  authority,  which  was  accepted  without  cavil  or  debate. 
Such  an  authority  was  a  witness  to  the  force  and  beauty  of  high 
moral  character.  It  testified  to  the  supremacy  which  belongs,  of 
right  and  of  necessity,  to  conscience.  His  special  gifts  would, 
under  all  conditions,  have  played  a  marked  pf\rt ;  but  they  do  not 
account  for  the  impressive  sway  exercised  over  such  multitudes 
by  his  personality.^ 

1  G.  E.  Weeks.  '  Charles  Kingsley,  Alton  Locke, 

*  Life  and  Letters  of  Dean  Church,  233. 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  57 

God  hath  no  shape,  nor  can  the  artist's  hands 
His  figure  frame  in  shining  gold  or  wood, 

God's  holy  image — God-sent — only  stands 
Within  the  bosoms  of  the  wise  and  good.^ 

iv.  Communion  with  God. 

The  sense  of  right  and  wrong  may  be  regarded  as  part  of 
that  nature  originally  imparted  to  man,  by  which  he  was  fitted 
to  hold  communion  with  God.  God  called  other  creatures  into 
existence  by  His  word,  and  so  made  them  live;  but  man  He 
inspired  with  His  own  breath,  and  so  gave  him  a  portion  of 
His  own  Divine  life.  And  corresponding  to  this  difference  of 
beginning  was  the  after  history.  God  blessed  the  living 
creatures  which  He  had  made,  pronounced  them  very  good,  and 
bade  them  increase  and  multiply;  but  with  man  He  held 
communion.  "  They  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  walking  in 
the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day  "  (Gen.  iii.  8). 

IT  To  me,  the  verse  has,  and  can  have,  no  other  signification 
than  this — that  the  soul  of  man  is  a  mirror  of  the  mind  of  God. 
A  mirror,  dark,  distorted,  broken — use  what  blameful  names  you 
please  of  its  state — yet  in  the  main,  a  true  mirror,  out  of  which 
alone,  and  by  which  alone,  we  can  know  anything  of  God  at 
all. 

"  How  ? "  the  reader,  perhaps,  answers  indignantly.  "  I 
know  the  nature  of  God  by  revelation,  not  by  looking  into 
myself." 

Eevelation  to  what?  To  a  nature  incapable  of  receiving 
truth  ?  That  cannot  be ;  for  only  to  a  nature  capable  of  truth, 
desirous  of  it,  distinguishing  it,  feeding  upon  it,  revelation  is 
possible.  To  a  being  undesirous  of  it,  and  hating  it,  revelation  is 
impossible.  There  can  be  none  to  a  brute,  or  fiend.  In  so  far, 
therefore,  as  you  love  truth,  and  live  therein,  in  so  far  revelation 
can  exist  for  you ; — and  in  so  far,  your  mind  is  the  image  of 
God's. 

But  consider,  further,  not  only  to  what,  but  hy  what,  is  the 
revelation.  By  sight  ?  or  word  ?  If  by  sight,  then  to  eyes  which 
see  justly.  Otherwise,  no  sight  would  be  revelation.  So  far, 
then,  as  your  sight  is  just,  it  is  the  image  of  God's  sight. 

If  by  words — how  do  you  know  their  meanings  ?  Here  is  a 
short  piece  of  precious  word  revelation,  for  instance — "God  ia 
love." 

*  Statius,  translated  by  W.  E.  A.  Axon. 


58  IN  THE   IMAGE  OF  GOD 

Love !  yes.  But  what  is  that  ?  The  revelation  does  not  tell 
you  that,  I  think.  Look  into  the  mirror  and  you  will  see.  Out  of 
your  own  heart,  you  may  know  what  love  is.  In  no  other  possible 
way — by  no  other  help  or  sign.  All  the  words  and  sounds  ever 
uttered,  all  the  revelations  of  cloud,  or  flame,  or  crystal,  are 
utterly  powerless.  They  cannot  tell  you,  in  the  smallest  point, 
what  love  means.     Only  the  broken  mirror  can. 

Here  is  more  revelation.  "  God  is  just ! "  Just !  What  is  that  ? 
The  revelation  cannot  help  you  to  discover.  You  say  it  is  dealing 
equitably  or  equally.  But  how  do  you  discern  the  equality  ? 
Not  by  inequality  of  mind ;  not  by  a  mind  incapable  of  weighing, 
judging,  or  distributing.  If  the  lengths  seem  unequal  in  the 
broken  mirror,  for  you  they  are  unequal ;  but  if  they  seem  equal, 
then  the  mirror  is  true.  So  far  as  you  recognize  equality,  and 
your  conscience  tells  you  what  is  just,  so  far  your  mind  is  the 
image  of  God's  ;  and  so  far  as  you  do  not  discern  this  nature  of 
justice  or  equality,  the  words,  "  God  is  just,"  bring  no  revelation 
to  you.^ 

IF  I  have  often  imagined  to  myself  the  large  joy  which  must 
have  filled  the  mind  of  Aristarchus  of  Samos  when  the  true  con- 
ception of  the  solar  system  first  dawned  upon  him,  unsupported 
though  it  was  by  any  of  the  mathematical  demonstrations  which 
have  since  convinced  all  educated  men  of  its  truth,  and  con- 
straining belief  solely  on  the  ground  of  its  own  simple  and  beautiful 
order.  I  could  suppose  such  a  belief  very  strong,  and  almost 
taking  such  a  form  as  this : — It  is  so  harmonious,  so  self -con- 
sistent, that  it  ought  to  be  so,  therefore  it  must  be  so.  And  surely 
this  is  nothing  more  than  might  be  looked  for  in  regard  to 
spiritual  realities.  If  man  is  created  for  fellowship  with  God 
there  must  exist  within  him,  notwithstanding  all  the  ravages  of 
sin,  capacities  which  will  recognize  the  light  and  life  of  eternal 
truth  when  it  is  brought  close  to  him.  Without  such  capacities 
revelation  would  in  fact  be  impossible.^ 

A  fire-mist  and  a  planet, 

A  crystal  and  a  cell, 
A  jelly-fish  and  a  saurian. 

And  caves  where  the  cave-men  dwell. 
Then  a  sense  of  law  and  beauty, 

And  a  face  turned  from  the  clod, — 
Some  call  it  evolution. 

And  others  call  it  God. 

'  Ruskin,  Modern  Painters,  vol.  v.  pt.  ix.  ch.  i.  §§  11-13. 
'  Thomas  Erakine  of  Linlathen. 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  59 

Like  tides  on  a  crescent  seabeach, 

When  the  moon  is  new  and  thin, 
Into  our  hearts  high  yearnings 

Come  weUing  and  surging  in; 
Come  from  the  mystic  ocean, 

Whose  rim  no  foot  has  trod, — 
Some  of  us  call  it  longing, 

And  others  call  it  God. 

T.  Capacity  for  Redemption. 

The  possibihty  of  redemption  after  man  had  sinned  is  as 
great  a  mark  as  any  of  the  image  of  God  impressed  upon  him. 
When  man  has  fallen  he  is  not  left  to  himself,  as  one  whose  fall 
is  a  trifling  matter  in  the  great  economy  of  God's  creation.  It 
was  because  His  own  image  had  been  impressed  on  man  that 
God  undertook  to  redeem  him ;  it  was  because  that  image,  though 
defaced,  had  not  been  wholly  destroyed,  that  such  redemption 
was  possible.  Yes — thanks  to  God — we  are  in  some  sense  in 
His  image  still;  much  as  we  incline  to  sin,  yet  we  feel  in  our 
hearts  and  consciences  that  sin  is  death  and  that  holiness  is  life. 
Much  as  we  swerve  from  the  ways  of  God,  yet  our  consciences 
still  tell  us  that  those  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness  and  paths 
of  peace ;  foolishly  as  we  have  behaved  by  seeking  happiness  in 
breaking  God's  commands,  yet  our  hearts  testify  to  our  folly  and 
our  better  judgment  condemns  us.  Here  then  are  the  traces 
of  God's  image  still,  and  because  these  traces  remain,  therefore 
there  is  hope  for  us  in  our  fallen  condition.  God  will  yet  return 
and  build  up  His  Tabernacle  which  has  been  thrown  down ;  and 
it  may  be  that  the  glory  of  the  latter  house  will  through  His 
infinite  mercy  be  even  greater  than  that  of  the  first. 

^  There  is  a  story  in  English  history  of  a  child  of  one  of  our 
noble  houses  who,  in  the  last  century,  was  stolen  from  his  house 
by  a  sweep.  The  parents  spared  no  expense  or  trouble  in  their 
search  for  him,  but  in  vain.  A  few  years  later  the  lad  happened 
to  be  sent  by  the  master  into  whose  hands  he  had  then  passed 
to  sweep  the  chimneys  in  the  very  house  from  which  he  had 
been  stolen  while  too  young  to  remember  it.  The  little  fellow 
had  been  sweeping  the  chimney  of  one  of  the  bedrooms,  and 
fatigued  with  the  exhausting  labour  to  which  so  many  lads,  by 
the  cruel  cusbom  of  those  times,  were  bound,  he  quite  forgot 
where  he  was,  and  flinging  himself  upon  the  clean  bed  dropped 


6o  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

off  to  sleep.  The  lady  of  the  house  happened  to  enter  the  room. 
At  first  she  looked  in  disgust  and  anger  at  the  filthy  black  object 
that  was  soiling  her  counterpane.  But  all  at  once  something  in 
the  expression  of  the  little  dirty  face,  or  some  familiar  pose  of 
the  languid  limbs,  drew  her  nearer  with  a  sudden  inspiration,  and 
in  a  moment  she  had  clasped  once  more  in  her  motherly  arms  her 
long-lost  boy.i 

•[[  Travellers  to  the  islands  of  the  South  Seas  reported — that 
is,  such  of  them  as  came  back — that  the  natives  were  fierce  and 
cannibal,  bearing  the  brand  of  savagery  even  upon  their  faces. 
But  Calvert  and  Baton  went  there,  and  proved  that  this  savage 
countenance  was  only  a  palimpsest  scrawled  by  the  Devil  over 
a  manuscript  of  the  Diviae  finger.  To  us  the  face  of  a  Chinaman 
is  dull  and  impassive.  It  awakens  no  interest;  it  stirs  no 
affection.  Then  why  have  our  friends  Pollard  and  Dymond 
gone  out  to  Yunnan  ?  Because  the  Spirit  of  God  has  opened 
their  eyes,  so  that  behind  all  that  stolid  exterior  they  can  see  a 
soul  capable  of  infinite  possibilities  of  godlike  nobility,  just  as  the 
genius  of  the  great  sculptor  could  see  an  augel  in  the  shapeless 
block  of  marble.  And  even  already  their  inspired  insight  has 
been  verified:  they  have  seen  that  sluggish  nature  move;  they 
have  watched  that  hard,  emotionless  Chinese  face  as  it  has 
glowed  with  the  joy  that  illumines  him  who  knows  that  Christ 
is  his  Saviour.  It  is  as  when  in  the  restoration  of  an  old 
English  church  the  workmen  begin  to  take  down  the  bare 
whitewashed  wall,  and  the  lath  and  plaster,  as  they  are  stripped 
off,  reveal  the  hidden  beauty  of  some  ancient  fresco  or  reredos. 
Let  a  new  race  of  men  be  discovered  to-day,  and  the  true 
missionary  Will  not  hesitate  to  start  for  them  to-morrow.  Before 
he  has  heard  anything  of  their  history  or  their  customs,  before 
he  has  learnt  a  word  of  their  language,  there  is  one  thing  that 
he  knows  about  them — that,  however  deeply  they  may  be  sunk  in 
barbarism,  they  are  not  so  low  that  the  arm  of  Christ  cannot 
reach  them.^ 

Count  not  thyself  a  starveling  soul, 

Baulked  of  the  wealth  and  glow  of  life, 

Destined  to  grasp,  of  this  rich  whole, 
Some  meagre  measure  through  thy  strife. 

Ask  not  of  flower  or  sky  or  sea 
Some  gift  that  in  their  giving  lies; 

Their  light  and  wonder  are  of  thee, 
Made  of  thy  spirit  through  thine  eyes. 

»  H.  W.  HorwiU. 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  61 

All  meaningless  the  primrose  wood, 
All  messageless  the  chanting  shore, 

Hadst  thou  not  in  thee  gleams  of  good 
And  whispers  of  God's  evermore.^ 

III. 

Two  Pra-ctical  Conclusions. 

There  are  two  facts  of  immense  practical  importance  for  us 
which  follow  from  the  one  momentous  fact  of  creation. 

1.  We  owe  to  God  our  being  and  therefore  we  owe  to  God 
ourselves. — What  God  makes,  He  has  an  absolute  right  to.  There 
is  a  corresponding  fundamental  principle  in  social  ethics  among 
men;  and  in  the  case  of  God's  relation  to  His  creatures  the 
principle  is  yet  more  fundamental  and  absolute,  even  as  the  case 
itself  is  altogether  unique.  The  obedience  of  nature  to  the 
Creator  is  unvarying,  but  it  is  only  the  blind  obedience  of 
necessity.  Of  the  spiritual  creation,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
obedience  must  be  free,  but  it  is  nevertheless  as  rightfully  and 
absolutely  claimed.  Indeed,  if  it  were  possible,  God's  claims  on 
those  whom  He  has  made  in  His  own  likeness  are  of  even  superior 
obligation.  For  the  existence  which  they  have  received  is  exist- 
ence at  its  highest  worth,  and  to  them  is  given  the  capacity  to 
recognize  and  appreciate  the  paramount  sovereignty  of  creative 
power  as  inspired  and  transfigured  by  creative  love. 

^  The  disinclination  to  be  under  an  obligation  is  always  more 
or  less  natural  to  us,  and  it  is  particularly  natural  to  those  who 
are  in  rude  health  and  high  spirits,  who  have  never  yet  known 
anything  of  real  sorrow  or  of  acute  disease.  It  grows  with  that 
jealous  sentiment  of  personal  independence  which  belongs  to  an 
advanced  civilization ;  and  if  it  is  distantly  allied  to  one  or  two 
of  the  better  elements  of  human  character,  it  is  more  closely 
connected  with  others  that  are  base  and  unworthy.  The 
Eastern  emperor  executed  the  courtier  who,  by  saving  his  life, 
had  done  him  a  service  which  could  never  be  forgotten,  perhaps 
never  repaid;  but  this  is  only  an  extreme  illustration  of  what 
may  be  found  in  the  feelings  of  everyday  life.  A  darker  example 
of  the  same  tendency  is  seen  in  the  case  of  men  who  have  wished 
a  father  in  his  grave,  not  on  account  of  any  misunderstanding, 
not  from  any  coarse  desire  of  succeeding  to  the  family  property, 

'  P.  C.  Ainsworth,  Poe^nx  and  Sormett,  57. 


62  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

but  because  in  the  father  the  son  saw  a  person  to  whom  he  owed 
not  education  merely,  but  his  birth  into  the  world,  and  felt  that 
so  vast  a  debt  made  him  morally  insolvent  as  long  as  his  creditor 
lived.  If  men  are  capable  of  such  feelings  towards  each  other, 
we  can  understand  much  that  characterizes  their  thought  about 
and  action  towards  God.  By  His  very  Existence  He  seems  to 
inflict  upon  them  a  perpetual  humiliation.  To  feel  da;^  by  day, 
hour  by  hour,  that  there  is  at  any  rate  One  Being  before  whom 
they  are  as  nothing ;  to  whom  they  owe  originally,  and  moment 
by  moment,  all  that  they  are  and  have ;  who  so  holds  them  in 
His  hand  that  no  human  parallel  can  convey  a  sense  of  the 
completeness  of  their  dependence  upon  His  good  pleasure;  and 
against  whose  decisions  they  have  neither  plea  nor  remedy : — this 
they  cannot  bear.  Yet  if  God  exists,  this,  and  nothing  less,  is 
strictly  true.^ 

2.  We  can  co-operate  with  God  in  His  creating,  preserving,  and 
redeeming  activity. — Though  now  "subject  to  vanity"  and  (not 
as  to  locality,  but  as  to  apprehension)  far  from  his  heavenly  home, 
the  assurance  of  man's  ultimate  perfection  rests  upon  the  im- 
pregnable foundation  that  there  is  within  him  a  Divine  potency. 
With  this  Divine  potency  it  is  his  duty  and  privilege  to  co-operate. 
Man  is  begotten,  but  he  is  being  made — 

Where  is  one  that,  born  of  woman,  altogether  can  escape 
From  the  lower  world  within  him,  moods  of  tiger,  or  of  ape? 
Man  as  yet  is  being  made,  and  ere  the  crowning  Age  of  ages, 
Shall  not  seon  after  aeon  pass  and  touch  him  into  shape  ? 

All  about  him  shadow  still,  but,  while  the  races  flower  and  fade, 
Prophet-eyes  may  catch  a  glory  slowly  gaining  on  the  shade, 

Till  the  peoples  all  are  one,  and  all  their  voices  blend  in  choric 
Hallelujah  to  the  Maker,  "It  is  finished.     Man  is  made."' 

IV. 

Thkee  Texts. 

Take  these  three  texts  together — 
Gen.  1.  27. — "  God  created  man  in  his  own  image." 
Rom.  iii.  23. — "  For  all  have  sinned,  and  come  short  of  the 
glory  of  God." 

Heb.  ii.  9. — "  But  we  see  Jesus." 

*  H.  P.  Liddon.  *  Tennyson,  The  Making  of  Mem. 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  63 

The  first  text  describes  man  as  he  was  when  he  first  came 
from  the  hand  of  his  Creator ;  the  second  describes  man  as  he  is, 
as  we  know  him,  in  the  condition  to  which  sin  has  reduced  him ; 
the  third  text  describes  man  as  he  will  be  when  his  redemption 
is  complete.  He  has  not  yet  attained  to  the  supremacy,  the 
character  and  glory,  which  God  preordained  for  him,  but  Christ 
has  attained  all  these.  We  see  Jesus  crowned,  and  all  things  put 
under  Him,  and  we  shall  be  crowned  also  when  our  full  redemption 
is  reached. 

1.  In  His  own  image, — The  first  great  truth  of  the  Bible  in 
regard  to  man  is  this,  that  he  was  made  in  the  image  of  God. 
He  is  the  Creator's  noblest  earthly  work.  Out  of  the  dust  of  the 
earth  God  fashioned  man's  body,  and  then  breathed  into  it  the 
breath  of  life.  Science  tells  us  that  man's  body  is  the  culmination 
and  recapitulation  of  all  prior  forms  of  life.  But  some  of  its 
highest  and  most  authoritative  teachers  acknowledge  that  man 
as  man  is  a  distinct  creation,  Wallace,  for  instance,  maintains 
that  "  man's  bodily  structure  is  identical  with  the  animal  world, 
and  is  derived  from  it  of  which  it  is  the  culmination  " ;  but  he 
declares  emphatically  that  "  man's  entire  nature  and  all  his 
faculties,  intellectual,  moral,  and  spiritual,  are  not  derived  from 
the  lower  animals,  but  have  an  origin  wholly  distinct ;  that  the 
working  of  material  laws  does  not  account  for  the  exaltation  of 
humanity.  These  are  from  the  spiritual  universe,  and  are  the 
result  of  fresh  and  extra  manifestations  of  its  power."  Let  us  try 
to  realize  this  great  truth.  The  body,  the  meanest  part  of  man,  is 
the  culmination  of  all  created  forms  of  life.  But  between  man 
and  the  highest  animal  there  is  an  infinite  difierence.  How  great 
then  is  man  :  "  A  little  lower  than  the  angels,  crowned  with  glory 
and  honour  " !  He  stands  midway  between  the  material  and  the 
spiritual,  the  manifestation  of  both.  Dust  and  deity.  Below,  he 
is  related  to  the  earth ;  above,  he  is  related  to  the  heavens.  He 
claims  kinship  with  seraphs;  nay,  he  is  God's  own  offspring. 
In  man  God  objectified  Himself,  made  Himself  visible.  God 
intended  man  to  be  the  incarnation  of  Himself,  for  He  "made 
man  in  His  own  image."  What  a  stupendous  truth !  Herder 
once  exclaimed,  "  Give  me  a  great  truth  that  I  may  feed  upon  it." 
Here  it  is.     Man  is  the  incarnation  of  G  od. 


64  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

^  "  I  am  staring,"  said  Maclan  at  last,  "  at  that  which  shall 
judge  us  both." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  TurnbuU,  in  a  tired  way ;  "  I  suppose  you  mean 
God." 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Maclan,  shaking  his  head ;  "  I  mean  him." 

And  he  pointed  to  the  half-tipsy  yokel  who  was  ploughing, 
down  the  road. 

"  I  mean  him.  He  goes  out  in  the  early  dawn ;  he  digs  or  he 
ploughs  a  field.  Then  he  comes  back  and  drinks  ale,  and  then  he 
sings  a  song.  All  your  philosophies  and  political  systems  are 
young  compared  to  him.  All  your  hoary  cathedrals — yes,  even 
the  Eternal  Church  on  earth  is  new  compared  to  him.  The  most 
mouldering  gods  in  the  British  Museum  are  new  facts  beside  him. 
It  is  he  who  in  the  end  shall  judge  us  all.  I  am  going  to  ask  him 
which  of  us  is  right." 

"  Ask  that  intoxicated  turnip-eater " 

«  Yes — which  of  us  is  right.  Oh,  you  have  long  words  and  I 
have  long  words;  and  I  talk  of  every  man  being  the  image  of 
God ;  and  you  talk  of  every  man  being  a  citizen  and  enlightened 
enough  to  govern.  But,  if  every  man  typifies  God,  there  is  God. 
If  every  man  is  an  enlightened  citizen,  there  is  your  enlightened 
citizen.  The  first  man  one  meets  is  always  man.  Let  us  catch 
him  up."  1 

2.  All  have  sinned. — Man  has  fallen  by  disobedience.  It  was 
not  merely  the  eating  of  the  fruit ;  it  was  the  principle  involved  in 
the  act  that  proved  fatal.  What  was  that — what  but  rebellion  ? 
The  conflict  of  the  human  will  with  the  Divine.  That  involved 
death.  By  that  act  the  soul  of  man  passed  from  spiritual  health 
and  fell  below  the  fulness  of  life,  and  in  that  sense  died.  And 
Adam's  sin  was  diffusive.  He  was  the  first  of  the  race.  His  sin 
entered  into  human  nature,  and  the  poison  passed  from  generation 
to  generation  with  ever  deeper  taint,  so  that  every  life  repeats  the 
sin  of  Adam.  There  is  in  it  the  refusal  of  the  human  will  to 
submit  to  God's  will.  Thus  it  is  absolutely  and  universally  true 
that  all  have  sinned  and  come  short  of  that  life  which  is  the  glory 
of  God.  We  sometimes  boast  of  our  ancestors,  but  if  we  went 
far  enough  back  we  should  have  little  to  boast  of.  Think  of  the 
filth,  the  falseness,  the  lust,  the  cruelty,  the  drunkenness,  the 
ferocity  of  the  races  out  of  which  we  have  sprung.  Look  around 
you  1     Is  not  the  text  true  ?     In  many,  reason  is  prostituted  to 

*  G.  K.  Chesterton,  The  Ball  and  the  Crost. 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  65 

evil.  The  free  choice  of  man  becomes  the  fixed  choice  of  evil ; 
myriads  are  the  abject  slaves  of  sin.  Conscience  has  been  so 
often  disobeyed  that  its  writs  no  longer  run  in  the  life,  or  it  is  so 
seared  that  men  can  commit  the  foulest  crimes  without  blushing. 
The  spirit  has  been  so  neglected  that  no  prayer  to  God  ever  rises 
to  the  lip  and  no  thought  of  God  enters  the  mind.  Think  of 
the  crimes  which  stain  the  pages  of  our  newspapers,  and  the 
numberless  crimes  known  only  to  God.  Even  among  the  most 
intellectual  there  are  sins  of  the  darkest  hue.  We  have  been 
rudely  reminded  within  the  last  few  years  that  our  boasted 
aestheticism  and  culture  may  be  but  thin  veils  which  hide  vices 
we  fain  hoped  were  dead  two  thousand  years  ago.  How  bitter 
and  ceaseless  has  been  the  conflict  between  the  conscience  and 
the  will  in  all  of  us !  How  powerful,  almost  invincible,  is  the 
habit  of  sin !  We  never  realize  our  bondage  until  we  seek  to 
break  away.  When  the  younger  son  of  the  parable  stood  on  his 
father's  doorstep  with  his  patrimony  in  his  pocket  and  his  face 
toward  the  far  country,  at  that  moment  he  was  a  prodigal.  We 
are  all  prodigals.  Though  we  may  never  have  reached  the  swine- 
troughs  we  have  turned  our  backs  on  God. 

^  In  one  of  his  books,  Salted  with  Fire,  George  MacDonald 
tells  of  a  young  woman  who  had  been  led  astray.  A  warm- 
hearted minister  found  her  one  night  on  his  doorstep,  and  guessing 
her  story,  brought  her  into  his  home.  His  little  daughter  upstairs 
with  her  mother,  asked,  "Mamma,  who  is  it  papa  has  in  the 
library  ?  "  And  the  wise  mother  quietly  replied,  "  It  is  an  angel, 
dear,  who  has  lost  her  way,  and  papa  is  telling  her  the  way  back."  ^ 

3.  But  we  see  Jesus. — "  Made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels, 
crowned  with  glory  and  honour,  all  things  put  in  subjection 
under  him."  We  see  not  yet  all  things  put  under  Him,  But  we 
see  Jesus.  He  was  crowned.  He  put  all  things  under  Him  ;  and 
humanity  in  Him  shall  yet  attain  this  glorious  supremacy. 
When  Jesus  trod  the  pathways  of  this  world,  limited  as  He  was 
by  His  incarnation,  how  like  a  conqueror  He  worked  !  He  was 
master  of  all  the  forces  of  Nature.  The  sea  became  to  Him  an 
unyielding  pavement  of  adamant.  When  the  storm  arose  He 
had  but  to  say,  "  Peace ! "  and  the  huge,  green,  yeasty  billows  lay 
down  at  His  feet  Hke  sleeping  babes.     Disease  fled  at  His  touch. 

^  S,  D.  Gordon,  Quiet  Talks  on  ffortit  Ideals^  18. 
GEN,-NUM, — 5 


66  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD 

The  dead  came  forth  at  His  call.  And  though  He  yielded  to  the 
yoke  of  death  He  did  it  like  a  conqueror.  "  I  have  power  to  lay 
down  my  life,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again,"  He  died  of 
His  own  free  choice.  And  on  the  third  morning  He  broke 
through  the  barriers  of  the  tomb  and  came  forth  the  Victor  of  the 
dark  realm  of  Hades.  He  was  crowned  also  in  the  moral  and 
spiritual  world.  He  lived  a  life  of  perfect  victory  over  sin.  All 
the  assaults  of  sin  beat  unavailingly  against  the  rock  of  His  pure 
manhood.  He  mingled  with  men  of  the  lowest  order,  but  He 
remained  without  spot,  and  went  back  to  God  as  pure  as  when 
He  came  from  God,  Christ  was  the  first  crowned  of  a  new  race. 
He  made  a  new  beginning,  and  humanity  in  Him  will  reach  His 
level  at  the  last.  We  see  not  yet  all  things  put  under  man,  but 
we  see  Jesus. 

^  Dr,  Barnardo  used  to  illustrate  the  benefits  of  his  redemptive 
work  by  taking  a  group  of  "  specimens "  to  the  platform  with 
him.  Look  at  that  boy  there  on  the  right.  Poor  lad,  he  has  not 
yet  all  things  put  under  him ;  no,  indeed,  he  was  picked  up  only 
an  hour  ago  off  the  streets.  Dirt  is  not  put  under  him,  and 
ignorance  is  not  put  under  him,  and  vice  is  not  put  under  him. 
He  is  the  slave  of  all  three.  But  look  at  that  lad  on  the  extreme 
left.  Sixteen  years  of  age,  clean,  well  dressed,  intelligent,  and 
virtuous.  He  has  been  three  years  in  the  Home.  What  a 
contrast !  He  has  put  all  things  under  him.  Even  so  it  is  with 
humanity.  It  is  being  transformed  by  Christ.  Some  are  at  the 
base  of  the  ladder  of  progress  and  redemption,  others  are 
ascending,  and  others  have  again  entered  into  the  glory  of  God. 
Like  Christ,  humanity  shall  have  all  things  put  under  it. 

Oh,  fairest  legend  of  the  years, 

With  folded  wings,  go  silently ! 
Oh,  flower  of  knighthood,  yield  your  place 

To  One  who  comes  from  Galilee. 

To  wounded  feet  that  shrink  and  bleed, 
But  press  and  climb  the  narrow  way, 

The  same  old  way  our  own  must  step, 
For  ever,  yesterday,  to-day. 

For  soul  can  be  what  soul  hath  been, 
And  feet  can  tread  where  feet  have  trod. 

Enough  to  know  that  once  the  clay 
Hath  worn  the  features  of  the  God.^ 

^  Daily  Smig,  p,  151, 


GENESIS  I.  26,  27  67 

^  One  of  the  most  precious  memories  of  my  life  is  that  of  my 
own  father's  victorious  death.  After  thirty  years  in  the  ministry 
he  passed  away  while  yet  in  the  prime  of  manhood.  He  died  of 
consumption,  and  at  the  last  was  very  feeble ;  so  feeble,  indeed, 
that  he  could  scarcely  make  his  voice  audible.  The  last  night 
came.  He  whispered  to  my  mother  again  and  again,  "  It  is  well 
with  me,  it  is  well  with  me."  Then  he  said,  "When  the  last 
moment  comes,  if  I  feel  I  have  the  victory  I  will  tell  you  .  .  . 
but  if  I  cannot  speak  I  will  raise  my  hand."  As  the  grey  morning 
light  stole  into  the  death-chamber  my  mother  saw  that  the  end 
had  come.  His  lips  moved.  She  stooped  to  catch  the  words, 
but  there  was  no  sound ;  his  power  of  articulation  had  gone.  The 
next  moment  he  seemed  to  realize  it,  and,  with  a  smile  on  his 
dying  face,  he  lifted  his  thin,  worn  hand  for  a  few  seconds,  and 
then  it  fell  on  the  pillow,  and  he  was  not,  for  God  had  taken  him.^ 

0,  may  I  triumph  so, 

When  all  my  warfare's  past, 
And,  dying,  find  my  latest  foe 

Under  my  feet  at  last. 

» J.  T.  Parr. 


Fellowship. 


Literature. 

Banks  (L.  A.X  Tlie  World's  Childhood,  300,  312. 

Blunt  (J.  H.),  in  Miscellaneous  Sermons  (edited  by  Lee),  93. 

Brandt  (J.  L.),  Soul  Saving,  157. 

Collyer  (R.),  Nature  and  Life,  153. 

Evans  (D.  T.),  in  Sermons  by  Welshmen  in  English  Pulpits,  28. 

Greer  (D.  H.),  From  Things  to  God,  98. 

Hanks  (W.  P.),  The  Eternal  Witness,  98. 

Hayman  (H.),  Sermons  in  Rugby  School  Chanel,  159. 

Ingram  (A.  F.  W.),  The  Call  of  the  Father,  51. 

Keble    (J.),   Sermons  for   the  Christian   Year :    Septuagesima   to    AsL 

Wednesday,  139. 
Kingsley  (C),  The  Oospel  of  the  Pentateuch,  36. 
Macmillan  (H.),  The  Touch  of  God,  23. 
Matheson  (G.),  Moments  on  the  Mount,  1. 
Morgan  (E.),  The  Calls  of  God,  17. 
Oosterzee  (J.  J.  van),  The  Year  of  Salvation,  i.  5. 
Parkhurst  (C.  H.),  Three  Gates  on  a  Side,  69. 
Parks  (L.),  The  Winning  of  the  Soul,  51. 
Raleigh  (A.),  Quiet  Besting  Places,  235. 
Shepard  (J.  W.),  Light  and  Life,  141. 
Smellie  (A.),  In  the  Secret  Place,  209. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  vii.  No.  412  ;  1.  No 

2900. 
Tyng  (S.  H.),  The  Peoples  Pulpit,  New  Ser.,  ii.  167. 
Vaughan  (C.  J.),  in  77i.«  World's  Gi-eat  Sermons,  vi.  69. 

„         (J.),  Sermons  to  Children,  177. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  Ixviii.  277  (Campbell). 
Contem/porary  Pulpit,  2nd  Ser.,  i.  108  (Keble). 


Fellowship. 

And  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  walking  in  the  garden  in  the 
cool  of  the  day  :  and  the  man  and  his  wife  hid  themselves  from  the  presence 
of  the  Lord  God  amongst  the  trees  of  the  garden.  And  the  Lord  God  called 
unto  the  man,  and  said  unto  him,  Where  art  thou?— Gen.  iii.  8,  9. 

If  this  is  veritable  history,  it  is  also  parable.  It  is  the  record 
of  the  first  fear,  the  first  blush,  the  first  self-concealment.  So 
common  are  all  these  experiences  to-day,  that  it  is  difficult  to  con- 
ceive the  time  of  innocence  and  assurance  when  they  did  not  exist. 
Yet  man,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  enjoyed  unclouded  communion 
with  his  Creator.  There  was  no  withdrawal  of  light  on  the  part 
of  God,  and  there  were  no  mists  of  doubt  exhaled  from  earth  to 
obscure  its  clear  shining.  God  talked  with  man.  Adam  delighted 
in  the  voice  of  God.  But  in  the  evil  hour  of  temptation  all  this 
was  changed.  Disobedience  unclothed  the  conscience.  Its 
garment  of  innocence  was  lost,  and  they  knew  that  they  were 
naked.  The  spiritual  condition  which  their  sin  had  produced  was 
symbolized  in  the  physical.  They  mistook  the  sign  for  the  sub- 
stance. The  fig-leaf  aprons  were  their  first  vain  effort.  But  this 
was  not  enough.  The  approach  of  God  convinced  them  of  its 
insufficiency,  and  so  they  sought  shelter  among  the  trees  of  the 
garden.  But  even  here  God  followed  them  with  mingled  words 
of  justice  and  of  love.  This  is  the  fountain-head  of  all  earth's 
woes.  This  is  the  little  cloud  of  sins  which  has  overspread  the 
heavens  with  the  darkness  of  despair,  and  threatens  now  the 
storm  of  wrath.  This  is  the  beginning  of  that  great  necessity, 
which,  foreseen,  had  already  in  the  council  of  eternity  drawn  forth 
the  pitying  love  of  God,  and  had  already  secured  the  acceptance 
and  condescension  of  the  Son  of  God,  as  the  second  Adam  of  the 
race. 

•^  Nearly  all  the  most  eminent  Biblical  scholars  are  now 
agreed  that  the  clue  to  the  meaning  of  this  third  chapter  of  Genesis 
is  to  be  found  by  regarding  it  as  an  allegory  or  parable  rather 


72  FELLOWSHIP 

than  as  an  historical  document  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  term. 
Even  a  scholar  so  cautious  and  conservative  as  Dean  Church  says 
in  one  of  his  books,  "  Adam  stands  for  us  all — for  all  living  souls 
who  from  generation  to  generation  receive  and  hand  on  the  breath 
of  human  life."  The  author  of  what  Archbishop  Temple  has 
called  "  the  allegory  of  the  garden  of  Eden  "  is  both  a  poet  and  a 
prophet.  As  a  poet  he  has  created  an  ideal  conception  of  the 
typical  natural  man.  As  a  prophet  he  spells  out  for  us,  in  language 
coloured  by  Eastern  imagery,  the  drama  of  a  great  crisis  in  the 
history  of  mankind.  Look  at  the  story  of  what  is  called  (though 
not  in  the  Bible)  the  "  fall  of  Adam,"  superficially,  and  you  may 
regard  it  as  a  legend,  such  as  those  of  Hercules  and  Prometheus. 
Look  at  it  deeply  and  seriously,  and  you  see  in  it  the  inspired 
work  of  a  master  mind,  gifted  with  profound  spiritual  insight, 
who  sees  the  greatness  of  man  even  in  ruin,  who  knows  what  sin 
means,  and  what  fruit  it  bears.  It  is  not  the  voice  of  a  chronicler 
of  past  events  that  is  heard  here.  It  is  the  voice  of  a  preacher 
who  speaks  to  the  soul  in  image  and  parable^  It  is  for  the  sake 
of  the  spiritual  truth  wrapped  up  in  it  that  the  story  is  told.^ 

The  text  brings  before  us  three  great  fundamental  facts — 

I.  Man  is  made  for  Fellowship  with  God — "  They  heard  the 
voice  {or  sound,  i.e.  steps)  of  the  Lord  God  walking  in  the  garden 
in  the  cool  of  the  day." 

II.  Sin  breaks  the  Fellowship — "The  man  and  his  wife  hid 
themselves  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord  God  amougst  the  trees 
of  the  garden." 

III.  God  seeks  to  restore  it — "  And  the  Lord  God  called  unto 
the  man,  and  said  unto  him,  Where  art  thou  ? " 

L 

The  Fellowship. 

1.   What  is  Fellowship  ? 

Eeal  religion  stands  or  falls  with  the  belief  in  a  personal  God, 
and  in  realizing  the  need  of  communion  with  Him.  When  once 
we  destroy,  or  tamper  with,  the  conviction  that  we  are  living,  or 
should  be  living,  in  spiritual  contact  with  a  Divine  Being  who 
has  revealed  Himself  to  us  in  His  Son,  worship  ceases  to  have  any 
real  meaning.     We   may  not   be  able  to  certify  or  interpret  to 

>  J.  W.  Shepard. 


GENESIS  III.  8,  9  73 

others  this  contact  with  God.  But  the  deepest  of  truths  is  that 
God  is  not  far  from  any  one  of  us,  and  it  is  the  Divine  Spirit 
within  us  that  seeks  and  strives  for  communication  with  our 
Heavenly  Father. 

Speak  to  Him  thou  for   He   hears,  and   Spirit  with   Spirit  can 

meet — 
Closer  is  He  than  breathing,  and  nearer  than  hands  and  feet. 

God  made  us  to  speak  to  Him,  not  only  in  formal  prayers  on 
stated  occasions,  but  in  the  silent  language  of  meditation,  and  in 
the  effort  implied  in  maintaining  our  belief  in  His  presence  and 
nearness  to  us.  It  is  a  sure  sign  of  something  being  wrong  with 
us  if  we  shrink  from  this  great  thought,  and  take  refuge  in  any 
view  of  life  that  tends  to  hide  from  us  the  solemn  mystery  of 
standing  before  the  living  God. 

Lift  to  the  firmament  your  eye. 

Thither  God's  path  pursue; 
His  glory,  boundless  as  the  sky, 

O'erwhelms  the  wondering  view. 

The  forests  in  His  strength  rejoice; 

Hark !  how  on  th'  evening  breeze, 
As  once  of  old,  the  Lord  God's  voice 

Is  heard  among  the  trees.^ 

2.  How  may  it  he  enjoyed  ? 

There  are  two  ways  especially  in  which  the  fellowship  between 
God  and  man  may  be  enjoyed. 

(1)  By  meditation  in  the  quiet  of  the  evening, — God  was  heard 
walking  in  the  garden  "in  the  cool  of  the  day."  It  may  be 
that  the  phrase  means  no  more  than  the  evening  breeze.  God 
comes  to  us  all  more  or  less  distinctly  in  the  evening — it  is  a  time 
for  leisure,  rest,  reflection,  and  worship.  After  the  toil  and  tumult 
of  the  day  it  is  a  period  of  hush  and  quiet,  and  amid  the  stillness 
we  can  hear  God's  voice  borne  on  the  wind. 

Morn  is  the  time  to  act,  noon  to  endure; 
But  oh !  if  thou  wouldst  keep  thy  spirit  pure, 
Turn  from  the  beaten  path  by  worldlings  trod, 
Go  forth  at  eventide,  in  heart  to  walk  with  God, 

*  J.  Montgomery. 


74  FELLOWSHIP 

IF  It  is  only  in  the  cool  of  the  day  that  I  can  hear  Thy 
footsteps,  0  my  God.  Thou  art  ever  walking  in  the  garden. 
Thy  presence  is  abroad  everywhere  and  always;  but  it  is  not 
everywhere  or  always  that  I  can  hear  Thee  passing  by.  The 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day  are  too  strong  for  me.  The  struggles 
of  life  excite  me,  the  ambitions  of  life  perturb  me,  the  glitter 
of  life  dazzles  me ;  it  is  all  thunder  and  earthquake  and  fire. 
But  when  I  myself  am  still,  I  catch  Thy  still  small  voice,  and 
then  I  know  that  Thou  art  God.  Thy  peace  can  only  speak  to 
my  peacefulness,  Thy  rest  can  only  be  audible  to  my  calm ;  the 
harmony  of  Thy  tread  cannot  be  heard  by  the  discord  of  my 
soul.  Therefore,  betimes  I  would  be  alone  with  Thee,  away  from 
the  heat  and  the  battle.  I  would  feel  the  cool  breath  of  Thy 
Spirit,  that  I  may  be  refreshed  once  more  for  the  strife.  I 
would  be  fanned  by  the  breezes  of  heaven,  that  I  may  resume 
the  dusty  road  and  the  dolorous  way.  Not  to  avoid  them  do  I 
come  to  Thee,  but  that  I  may  be  able  more  perfectly  to  bear 
them.  Let  me  hear  Thy  voice  in  the  garden  in  the  cool  of 
the  day.^ 

This  life  hath  hours  that  hold 

The  soul  above  itself,  as  at  a  show 
A  child,  upon  a  loving  arm  and  bold 
Uplifted  safe,  upon  the  crowd  below 
Smiles  down  serene, — I  speak  to  them  that  know 
This  thing  whereof  I  speak,  that  none  can  guess. 
That  none  can  paint, — what  marks  hath  Blessedness, 
What  characters  whereby  it  may  be  told  ? 
Such  hours  with  things  that  never  can  grow  old 
Are  shrined.     One  eve,  'mid  autumns  far  away, 
I  walked  along  beside  a  river;  grey 
And  pale  was  earth,  the  heavens  were  grey  and  pale, 
As  if  the  dying  year  and  dying  day 
Sobbed  out  their  lives  together,  wreaths  of  mist 
Stole  down  the  hills  to  shroud  them  while  they  kissed 
Each  other  sadly;  yet  behind  this  veil 
Of  drearness  and  decay  my  soul  did  build, 
To  music  of  its  own,  a  temple  filled 
With  worshippers  beloved  that  hither  drew 
In  silence;  then  I  thirsted  not  to  hear 
The  voice  of  any  friend,  nor  wished  for  dear 
Companion's  hand  firm  clasped  in  mine ;  I  knew, 
Had  such  been  with  me,  they  had  been  less  near.' 

'  George  Matheson.  '  Dora  Greonwell. 


GENESIS  III.  8.  9  75 

(2)  In  corporate  worship.  —  When  one  joins  a  group  of 
worshippers,  one  enters  to  take  one's  part  in  the  ordered  re- 
sponse of  the  Church  universal  to  the  outgoing  of  the  heart 
of  God ;  one  enters  a  region  where  heaven  dips  down  to  earth, 
while  earth  lifts  up  "  blind  hands "  to  heaven ;  one  is  at  the 
meeting-place  of  the  two  orders,  the  temporal  and  the  eternal ; 
one  is  standing  with  one's  fellows  before  the  rending  veil. 
And  there  are  other  gains  to  be  got  from  corporate  worship. 
There  is  outlook.  There  is  "  the  restfulness  of  its  wide  horizons." 
The  daily  work  of  most  of  us  is  done  within  a  very  narrow 
sphere  of  interest  and  enterprise.  In  the  fellowship  of  the 
Church  we  have  a  unique  opportunity  of  emerging  from  these 
limitations.  No  man  can  enter  into  the  fullest  liberty  if  he 
is  alone  with  nature  and  the  God  of  nature.  An  essential 
element  in  the  vision  of  far  horizons  is  the  presence  of  a 
body  of  aspirant  life.  It  is  "  with  all  saints,"  not  with  nature, 
that  we  comprehend  the  love  of  God.  It  is  where  two  or 
three  are  gathered  together  to  search  into  His  name,  that 
He  is  in  the  midst.  And  another  gain  to  be  obtained  from 
corporate  worship  is  quiet  of  spirit.  Who  has  not  known 
perplexities  drop  away,  who  has  not  seen  problems  solved, 
in  the  contemplation  and  experience  of  the  fellowship  of  the 
Church  ?  Moods  that  have  distressed  us  have  been  dispelled 
by  merely  seeing  them  reflected  in  the  experience  of  fellow- 
worshippers,  whether  of  our  own  or  of  other  ages.  Contro- 
versies which  have  vexed  us  have  been  settled  in  the  light 
of  the  broad,  plain  moralities  of  the  Gospel.  Exaggerations 
of  view  have  been  checked  by  the  thought  of  the  manifold 
variety  of  catholic  Christian  experience.  Forgotten  factors 
in  difficult  questions  have  come  to  light  as  we  have  learned 
to  look  at  life  from  the  point  of  view  of  God's  residence  in 
the  collective  body  of  His  redeemed.  We  have  repeated  the 
Psalmist's  experience :  "  When  I  thought  to  know  this,  it  was 
too  painful  for  me ;  imtil  I  went  into  the  sanctuary  of  God ; 
then  understood  I." 

Wandering  thro'  the  city 

My  heart  was  sick  and  sore; 
Full  of  a  feverish  longing 

T  entered  an  old  church  door. 


^6  FELLOWSHIP 

Dark  were  the  aisles  and  gloomy; 

Type  of  my  troubled  breast. 
Mournful  and  sad  I  paced  there, 

Eager  to  be  at  rest. 

Sudden  the  sunshine  lighted 
The  arches  with  golden  stream, 

Chasing  the  darksome  shadows 
With  brightly-glancing  beam. 

A  chord  pealed  forth  from  the  organ 
Tender,  and  soft,  and  sweet : 

Trembling  along  the  pavement 
Like  the  tread  of  the  angels'  feet. 

The  light  as  a  voice  from  Heaven, 
Bid  all  my  care  to  cease; 

The  chordi  as  a  song  of  Seraphs, 
Whispered  of  God's  own  peace.^ 


IL  > 

The  Separation. 

The  first  sin  of  Scripture  is  in  some  sort  the  type  of  all  our 
sins.  They  grow  out  of  a  common  root.  In  the  language  of 
morals,  they  are  a  revolt  against  the  pressure  of  rules  and  obliga- 
tions felt  to  be  in  conflict  with  passion  or  personal  desires.  In 
the  language  of  the  Bible,  they  spring  from  a  state  of  rebellion 
against  God  and  the  order  established  by  Him. 

The  author  of  the  record  of  Genesis  shows  us  in  poetic 
imagery  the  inward  as  well  as  the  outward  consequences  of  any 
deliberate  act  of  rebellion.  All  sin,  until  with  repentance  comes 
pardon,  alters  the  relations  between  the  creature  and  the  Creator. 
An  estranging  cloud  comes  between  the  soul  and  God.  And  this 
means  bitter  shame,  haunting  fear — the  shame  of  degradation,  the 
fear  of  death.  That  concealing  cloud  cannot  be  conjured  away 
by  any  human  arts.  So  long  as  reconciliation  is  barred  by  impeni- 
tence and  unbelief,  the  cloud  will  be  there.  This  permanent  fact 
of  man's  spiritual  nature  is  portrayed  in  the  words,  "The  man 

1  John  A.  Jennings. 


GENESIS  III.  8.  9  'j^ 

and  his  wife  hid  themselves  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord  God 
amongst  the  trees  of  the  garden." 

The  heavens  above  are  clear 

In  splendour  of  the  sapphire,  cold  as  steel, 

No  warm  soft  cloud  floats  over  them,  no  tear 

Will  fall  on  earth  to  tell  us  if  they  feel; 

But  ere  the  pitiless  day 

Dies  into  evening  grey. 

Along  the  western  line 

Eises  a  fiery  sign 
That  doth  the  glowing  sky  incarnadine.* 

1.  How  does  the  loss  of  God's  fellowship  show  itself? 

1.  In  a  sense  of  Shame. — The  first  feeling  of  the  man  and  his  wife 
was  an  indistinct  sense  of  shame,  a  desire  to  hide  themselves  from 
one  another  and  from  all  the  world.  "  Their  eyes,  both  of  them, 
were  opened,  and  they  knew  that  they  were  naked ;  and  they 
sewed  fig-leaves  together,  and  made  themselves  aprons."  Until 
then  they  had  been  like  little  children,  not  knowing  shame, 
because  they  knew  not  sin ;  but  from  that  day  forward  they  and 
their  posterity  had  to  carry  both  sin  and  shame  about  with 
them  wherever  they  went. 

^  My  colleague  at  the  City  Temple  told  me  of  a  young  fellow 
whom  a  friend  of  his  tried  to  save,  and  in  the  end  succeeded,  I 
am  glad  to  say.  This  poor  lad  was  an  adopted  son  ;  he  seems  to 
have  inherited  a  weak  nature,  or  if  he  did  not  inherit  one — for  J 
do  not  think  there  is  so  very  much  in  heredity,  after  all — at  any 
rate,  loose  habits,  unworthy  behaviour,  evil  company,  engendered 
in  him  a  course  of  action,  and  created  a  character  in  itself  evil. 
He  robbed  his  adoptive  parents,  and  fled  from  home.  When  he 
was  found  and  brought  back  almost  to  the  doorstep  he  refused  to 
enter.  "  Why  ?  Are  you  afraid  to  face  them  ? "  The  answer  was, 
'*  I  cannot  look  them  in  the  eye."  * 

2.  In  Fear. — In  no  way  does  the  tragedy  of  Eden  come  out 
with  more  picturesque  realism  than  in  these  hiding  figures 
fleeing  from  the  face  of  the  God  against  whom  they  have  sinned. 
But  yesterday  the  presence  of  God  was  their  chief  delight.  It 
made  the  flowers  more  beautiful ;  it  added  to  the  fragrance  of  the 
blossoming  trees ;  it  gave  more  exquisite  harmony  to  the  singing 

*  Dora  Greenwell.  '  R.  J.  Campbell. 


78  FELLOWSHIP 

of  the  birds ;  it  was  the  perfection  of  their  delight  and  their  joy. 
Fear  was  not  in  all  their  thoughts,  and  they  gazed  rapturously 
into  the  countenance  of  their  Heavenly  Father  as  a  child  gazes 
with  unspeakable  confidence  and  trust  into  the  eyes  of  its  mother. 
But  now  there  is  nothing  they  dread  so  much  as  the  face  of  God. 
And  we  watch  them  as  they  hasten  into  the  thickest  part  of  the 
garden  and  vainly  try  to  hide  themselves  from  the  eye  of  their 
Creator. 

^  A  child  knows  at  once  what  it  is  to  love  God ;  but  you 
must  force  its  understanding  into  an  unnatural  course  to  teach 
it  that  God  is  a  Person  to  be  afraid  of.  That  terror  of  God,  which 
cannot  spring  out  of  holiness  and  innocence,  comes  of  itself, 
however,  without  teaching  or  forcing,  with  sin.^ 

^  One  of  the  first  results  of  sin  is  to  awaken  the  conscience 
and  make  it  an  accuser  and  pursuer.  All  great  literature  abounds 
in  illustrations  of  this  theme.  No  man  deals  with  it  with  more 
wisdom  and  fidelity  than  Shakespeare.  We  have  all  had  on  our 
lips  at  one  time  or  other  those  words  of  Hamlet  in  which  he 
declares  that  "Conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all."  And 
in  the  tragedy  of  "  King  Eichard  ill."  Shakespeare  makes  a  wicked 
man  say  of  his  conscience,  "  I'll  not  meddle  with  it :  it  is  a 
dangerous  thing :  it  makes  a  man  a  coward :  a  man  cannot  steal, 
but  it  accuseth  him ;  he  cannot  swear,  but  it  checks  him  "  (Act  i. 
scene  iv.). 

^  Spurgeon  tells  of  an  Englishman  who  was  so  constantly  in 
debt  and  so  frequently  arrested  by  the  bailiffs  that  on  one  occasion, 
when  going  by  a  fence,  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  catching  on  a  nail, 
he  turned  round  and  said,  obeying  the  instinctive  fear  of  his 
heart,  "  I  don't  owe  you  anything,  sir."  He  thought  the  picket 
was  a  bailiff.2 

3.  In  Excuses. — All  our  worst  sins  are  marked  by  a  certain 
recklessness  of  consequences.  "  Never  mind  what  may  come  of 
it  all,"  we  say  to  ourselves,  "  let  us  brave  the  worst."  And  when 
the  consequences  do  come — as  come  they  must,  sooner  or  later — 
we  throw  the  blame  on  things  or  persons  other  than  ourselves. 
Someone's  subtlety  beguiled  us  into  thinking  that  rebellion  against 
the  moral  order  would  be  a  glorious  gain.  Or  else  we  cry  out 
against  society  or  our  inherited  temperament  as  responsible  for 
our  misdoings.  We  complain  dolefully  of  the  demoralizing 
tendencies  of  modern  life.     It  is  no  fault  of  ours,  we  say,  if  we, 

>  J.  H.  Blunt.  »  L.  A.  Banks. 


GENESIS  III.  8.  9  79 

too,  drift  with  the  stream,  and  reach  out  our  hands  to  secure  the 
delights  of  the  passing  hour.  So,  in  our  blindness  and  infatuation, 
we  excuse  ourselves.  And  our  eyes  are  opened  when  we  learn 
in  sorrow  and  suffering  that  one  sinful  act  may  spread  its  con- 
taminating fibres  through  the  whole  of  our  life. 

1J  The  literature  of  imagination — much  of  the  fiction  of  our 
time  and  some  of  its  poetry — is  skilful  in  painting  the  wicked 
thing,  until  it  appears  gay  and  brilliant  and  free.  There  are 
philosophies  and  theologies  which  apologize  for  it,  and  teach  us 
to  view  it  almost  as  a  necessity  for  our  fuller  life,  or  as  a  halting- 
place  in  the  march  of  the  soul  to  what  is  higher  and  holier. 
Society  has  a  hundred  affectations  and  excuses  that  hide  its 
foulness,  as  Greek  assassins  concealed  their  death-bringing  daggers 
under  the  greenery  of  myrtle  leaves.  It  is  a  faU  upward,  we  are 
told,  and  not  a  fall  downward.  On  the  Amazon  a  famous 
naturalist  discovered  a  spider  which  spread  itself  out  as  a  flower ; 
but  the  insects  lighting  on  it  found  destruction  instead  of  sweet- 
ness and  honey.  Our  sin  is  our  sin,  evil,  poisonous,  fatal,  although 
it  transmutes  itself  into  an  angel  of  goodness.^ 

4.  By  Hiding. — "  The  man  and  his  wife  hid  themselves."  Is  not 
this  hiding  among  the  trees  of  the  garden  a  symbolical  represen- 
tation of  what  sinners  have  been  doing  ever  since  ? — have  they 
not  all  been  endeavouring  to  escape  from  God,  and  to  lead  a 
separated  and  independent  life  ?  They  have  been  fleeing  from 
the  Divine  presence,  and  hiding  themselves  amid  any  trees  that 
would  keep  that  presence  far  enough  away. 

^  Professor  Phelps  tells  of  a  burglar  who  rifled  an  unoccupied 
dwelling  by  the  seaside.  He  ransacked  the  rooms,  and  heaped 
his  plunder  in  the  parlour.  There  were  evidences  that  here  he 
sat  down  to  rest.  On  a  bracket  in  the  corner  stood  a  marble 
bust  of  Guide's  Ecce  Homo — Christ  crowned  with  thorns.  The 
guilty  man  had  taken  it  in  his  hands  and  examined  it — it  bore 
the  marks  of  his  fingers — but  he  replaced  it  with  its  face  turned 
to  the  wall,  as  if  he  would  not  have  even  the  sightless  eyes  of  the 
marble  Saviour  look  upon  his  deeds  of  infamy .^ 

ii.  They  hid  themselves. 

The  attempt  to  hide  oneself  may  be  made  in  different  ways. 
1.  One  way  is  by  careless  living,  by  such  levity  as  that  of  the 
Athenians  who  scoffed  at  St.  Paul  when  he  spoke  to  them  of  the 

'  A.  Smellie.  '  E.  Morgan. 


8o  FELLOWSHIP 

resurrection  of  the  dead.  Men  who  are  devoured  by  a  foolish 
appetite  for  the  last  new  thing,  the  last  word  of  science  and 
philosophy,  have  ceased  to  care  for  truth,  and  have  become 
worshippers  of  idols.  To  such,  the  Father  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  must  remain  for  ever  an  unknown  God.  They  have  for- 
feited the  power  of  seeing  the  Invisible,  and  of  worshipping  in 
spirit  and  in  truth.  There  was  no  Church  at  Athens.  There 
never  can  be  a  Church,  in  the  real  sense,  composed  of  men  and 
women  who  make  of  a  merely  intellectual  interest  in  science  and 
literature,  in  the  burning  questions  of  the  day,  an  excuse  for 
shirking  the  serious  aspects  of  life  and  the  spiritual  facts  that  lie 
at  the  foundation  of  religion.  "  Let  not  God  speak  with  us,  lest 
we  die."  This  reluctance  to  hear  the  deeper  chords  struck,  this 
desire  to  run  away  from  the  deeper  thoughts  and  experiences 
that  pierce  the  conscience  and  trouble  the  mind,  is  deeply  em- 
bedded in  human  nature.  The  dearest  wish  of  many  among  us 
is  to  be  let  alone ;  to  be  allowed  to  live  our  lives  out  to  the  end 
in  a  sort  of  enchanted  garden,  where  no  voice  from  the  deeps 
may  reach  us,  and  we  may  catch  no  glimpse  of  the  Cherubim  and 
the  flaming  sword. 

1[  "  How  now,  Sir  John  1 "  quoth  I :  "  what,  man !  be  o'  good 
cheer."  So  a'  cried  out,  "  God,  God,  God ! "  three  or  four  times. 
Now  I,  to  comfort  him,  bid  him  a'  should  not  think  of  God.  I 
hoped  there  was  no  need  to  trouble  himself  with  any  such 
thoughts  yet.     So  a'  bade  me  lay  more  clothes  on  his  feet.^ 

2.  Another  way  of  hiding  from  God  is  the  refusal  to  listen  to 
the  voice  of  conscience  when  it  condemns  us,  the  ingrained  habit  of 
slipping  away  from  reminders  of  duties  neglected  and  obligations 
left  unfulfilled,  so  finely  delineated  by  George  Eliot  in  the 
character  of  Tito  Melema.  Wherever  sincerity  is,  the  quality 
of  perfect  openness  and  clearness  of  soul,  the  word  of  Christ  will 
reach  and  penetrate  the  heart.  To  hear  the  voice  of  God  calling 
us  with  joy  and  gladness  we  must  be  clear  from  vice,  clear  from 
self-indulgence  and  self-satisfaction.  It  is  our  sins,  and  nothing 
else,  that  separate  us  from  Him ;  our  sins,  too,  that  make  us  shun 
those  who  are  to  us  a  sort  of  embodied  conscience.  "  I  was 
obliged  to  get  away  from  him  as  fast  as  I  could,"  said  a  notorious 
profligate  of  the  saintly  F^nelon,  "  else  he  would  have  made  me 

*  Mrs.  Quickly  in  Henry  y.,  Act  ii.  se.  iii.  1.  17. 


GENESIS  in.  8,  9  81 

pious."  Here  speaks  the  "  natural  man,"  the  Adam  whose  blood 
runs  in  our  veins.  Which  of  us  does  not  blush  to  think  how 
often  wcf  have  shunned  the  company  of  the  wise  and  the  good 
because  their  moral  purity  shamed  us  ? 

H  I  can  think  of  no  more  telling  instance  of  the  evasion  of 
spiritual  influence  than  one  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  incom- 
parable pages  of  the  great  master  of  Greek  philosophic  thought. 
Twenty-three  centuries  ago  there  was  no  more  brilliant  figure  in 
Athenian  society  than  Alcibiades,  soldier,  statesman,  and  leader 
of  fashion — the  most  daring,  the  most  versatile,  the  most  un- 
principled of  men.  Well,  Plato  has  put  him,  as  it  were,  into  the 
confessional  And  this  is  what  he  represents  bim  as  saying  of  the 
effect  produced  on  his  mind  by  the  character  and  teaching  of 
Socrates.  After  bearing  his  personal  witness  to  the  strange  and 
almost  magical  power  over  the  heart  of  the  words  of  the  great 
Athenian  master,  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  No  one  would  imagine  that 
I  could  ever  feel  shame  before  any  one,  but  before  him  I  do  stand 
rebuked.  For  when  I  hear  him  my  heart  throbs,  and  tears  gush 
from  my  eyea  For  he  compels  me  to  confess  that,  in  intriguing 
for  place  and  power,  I  am  neglecting  my  real  self,  and  all  is  ill 
within  me.  I  cannot  deny  that  I  ought  to  do  what  he  bids  me, 
but  I  go  away,  and  other  influences  prevail  over  me.  Therefore, 
I  shut  my  ears  and  run  away  from  him  like  a  slave,  and  whenever 
I  see  him  shame  takes  possession  of  me.  So  I  am  in  a  strait 
betwixt  two.  Often  I  feel  that  I  should  be  glad  if  he  were  no 
longer  in  the  land  of  the  living.  Yet,  if  anything  should  happen 
to  him,  I  know  full  weU  that  I  should  be  the  more  deeply 
grieved."  ^ 

3.  A  third  way  of  attempting  to  hide  from  God — and  it  is 
perhaps  the  most  evasive  of  all — is  hj  flattering  ourselves  that  we 
are  seeking  Sis  face.  Even  religion  may  be  so  perverted  as  to 
become  a  deadening  influence  when  we  identify  it  with  opinions, 
or  party  views,  or  zeal  for  dogma,  or  external  things  like 
ceremonies,  or  forms  of  worship,  or  matters  of  Church  order  and 
discipline.  How  many  among  us  live  and  move  in  these  surface 
questions,  while  shrinking  from  the  deeper  problems  of  what  we 
are  to  think  of  God,  and  how  we  are  to  school  ourselves  to  learn 
what  is  His  will,  and  how  we  are  to  do  it.  Yes,  it  is  quite  as  easy 
to  hide  from  God  among  the  pillars  of  the  sanctuary  as  among 
the  trees  of  the  garden.     Multiplied  services,  religious  discussion, 

» J.  W.  Shepard. 
GEN.-NUM. — 6 


82  FELLOWSHIP 

the  manifold  busmess  of  religious  societies,  may  usurp  the  place 
of  religious  worship,  and  the  care  for  these  things  may  leave 
scanty  room  for  the  inward  communing  of  the  soul  with  God. 
Experience  seems  to  show  that  the  use  of  inferior  ways  of  calling 
forth  religious  earnestness  tends  to  make  us  indisposed  to  centre 
our  faith  on  God's  own  revelation  of  Himself  in  His  Son. 

iii.  They  hid  themselves  amongst  the  Trees  of  the  Garden. 

Adam  and  his  wife  hid  themselves  amongst  the  trees  of  the 
garden.     What  are  the  trees  one  hides  among  ? 

1.  One  of  the  trees  behind  which  we  hide  ourselves  is  the 
tree  of  Knowledge.  "Ye  shall  be  as  gods,"  said  Satan,  "know- 
ing." That  "  knowledge  puffeth  up  "  was  known  to  Satan  before 
it  was  stated  by  Paul.  Knowledge  is  the  fruit  of  the  tree 
that  stood  in  the  very  midst  of  the  garden;  but  knowledge  is 
accompanied  by  its  shadow  in  the  shape  of  a  consciousness  of 
knowledge;  and  consciousness  of  knowledge  is  on  the  negative 
side  of  know-nothing.  One  single  electric  light  extinguishes  the 
stars,  and  the  shining  of  the  low-lying  moon  snuffs  out  all  the 
constellations  of  the  firmament.  The  garden  of  the  Lord  grows 
up  at  length  into  such  prodigality  of  leaf  and  flower  as  to  conceal 
the  Lord  of  the  garden. 

2.  Another  tree  behind  which  the  face  of  the  Lord  becomes 
hidden  from  us  is  that  of  Wealth.  The  tree  of  wealth,  like  the  tree 
of  knowledge,  has  its  best  rooting  in  the  soil  of  paradise.  We 
should  no  sooner  think  of  speaking  a  disparaging  word  of  money 
than  we  should  of  knowledge.  But  as  knowledge  becomes 
conscious  of  itself  and  so  loses  consciousness  of  God,  so  wealth  is 
absorbed  in  itself  and  forgets  God.  The  sun  lifts  the  mist  that 
befogs  the  sun.  It  is  not  easy  to  become  very  learned  without 
getting  lost  in  the  world  of  our  own  erudition.  It  is  not  easy  to 
become  very  rich  without  becoming  lost  in  the  world  of  our 
acquisition. 

3.  Another  tree  in  God's  garden  is  the  tree  of  RespeetaMHty. 
More  evidently,  perhaps,  than  either  of  the  others,  it  is  the 
outcome  of  heavenly  soil.  The  Gospel  has  always  displayed  a 
surpassing   power  in  diffusing  ideals  of   excellent   behaviour,  in 


GENESIS  III.  8,  9  83 

grappling  with  the  coarser  lusts  of  men,  and  taming  them  into 
habits  of  regularity  and  propriety.  At  the  same  time,  when  a 
man,  by  the  impact  of  the  truth,  or  by  the  pressure  of  sentiment, 
or  by  the  fear  of  consequences,  but  without  having  been  vitally 
renewed,  has  had  just  enough  outward  effect  produced  upon  him 
to  start  in  him  an  incipient  and  callow  sense  of  goodness,  such  a 
man  is  of  the  very  toughest  material  with  which  the  Gospel  has 
to  contend.  Such  a  little  streak  of  conscious  excellence  when 
exposed  to  the  convicting  truth  of  God's  Word,  or  power  of  God's 
Spirit,  like  a  glittering  rod  pushed  up  into  the  electricity  will 
convey  off  in  silent  serenity  the  most  terrific  bolt  out  of  the  sky 
that  can  be  hurled  against  it.  Dread  respectability  more  than 
original  sin. 

In  the  ancient  orderly  places,  with  a  blank  and  orderly  mind, 
We  sit  in   our  green  walled   gardens  and   our  corn  and   oil 
increase ; 
Sunset  nor  dawn  can  wake  us,  for   the   face  of  the  heavens  is 
kind; 
We  light  our  taper  at  even  and  call  our  comfort  peace. 

Peaceful  our  clear  horizon,  calm  as  our  sheltered  days 

Are   the  lilied  meadows  we   dwell   in,   the   decent   highways 
we  tread. 
Duly  we  make   our   offerings,   but   we   know  not   the  God  we 
praise, 
For  He  is  the  God  of  the  living,  but  we.  His  children,  are 
dead. 

I  will  arise  and  get  me  beyond  this  country  of  dreams. 

Where  all  is  ancient  and  ordered  and  hoar  with  the  frost  of 
years. 
To    the    land    where     loftier    mountains    cradle    their    wilder 
streams. 
And    the    fruitful    earth     is    blessed    with    more    bountiful 
smiles  and  tears, — 

There  in  the   home  of   the   lightnings,  where   the  fear  of   the 
Lord  is  set  free, 
Where    the    thunderous    midnights    fade    to    the    turquoise 
magic  of  morn. 
The  days  of  man  are  a  vapour,  blown  from  a  shoreless  sea, 
A  little  cloud  before  sunrise,  a  cry  in  the  void  forlorn — 


84  FELLOWSHIP 

T  am  weary  of  men  and  cities  and  the  service  of  little  things, 
Where    the    flamelike    glories     of    life    are    shrunk     to     a 
candle's  ray. 
Smite  me,  my  God,  with  Thy   presence,  blind  my  eyes  with 
Thy  wings. 
In    the    heart    of    Thy   virgin    earth    show   me   Thy   secret 
way !  ^ 

III. 

The  Reconciliation. 

1.  The  first  step  towards  reconciliation  is  taken,  not  by  the 
creature,  but  by  the  Creator.  It  is  not  man  who  first  seeks  God 
and  cries  out,  "  0  my  Maker,  my  Father,  where  art  Thou  ? "  but 
it  is  the  great  God  and  Father  who  tenderly  inquires  after  His 
erring  child.  Christ's  words,  "  Ye  did  not  choose  me,  but  I  chose 
you,"  have  an  immediate  reference  to  His  followers,  but  they 
have  also  a  general  application  to  the  race.  Bede  compares 
Christ's  priority  in  choosing  His  disciples  to  God's  priority  in 
loving  us.  "  We  love,  because  he  first  loved  us."  Our  love  is  a 
response  to  the  appeal  of  His  infinite,  unmerited,  and  spontaneous 
love.  He  first  loved  us.  When  He  made  man.  He  did  not  leave 
him  as  a  manufacturer  might  an  article,  without  any  concern 
respecting  the  future.  Archbishop  Trench  says, "  The  clockmaker 
makes  his  clock  and  leaves  it;  the  shipbuilder  builds  and 
launches  the  ship,  which  others  navigate;  but  the  world  is  no 
eurious  piece  of  mechanism  which  its  Maker  constructs  and  then 
dismisses  from  His  hands."  "  And  the  Lord  G<xi  called  unto  the 
man,  and  said  unto  him.  Where  art  thou  ? " 

I  have  not  sought  Thee,  I  have  not  found  Thee, 

I  have  not  thirsted  for  Thee: 
And  now  cold  billows  of  death  surround  me, 
Bufi'eting  billows  of  death  astound  me, — 

Wilt  Thou  look  upon,  wilt  Thou  see 

Thy  perishing  me  ? 

Yea,  I  have  sought  thee,  yea,  I  have  found  thee, 

Yea,  I  have  thirsted  for  thee, 
Yea,  long  ago  with  love's  bands  I  bound  thee: 
Now  the  Everlasting  Arms  surround  thee, — 

Through  death's  darkness  I  look  and  see 

And  clasp  thee  to  Me.* 

^  John  BachAB.  '  Ohristiiia  6.  Bossetti. 


GENESIS  III.  8,  9  85 

2,  What  does  God's  question  contain  ?  The  question  is, 
Where  art  thou  ? 

(1)  It  contains  the  suggestion  that  the  man  is  lost.  Until  we 
have  lost  a  thing  we  need  not  inquire  about  it ;  but  when  God 
said,  "  Where  art  thou  ? "  it  was  the  voice  of  a  shepherd  inquiring 
for  his  lost  sheep;  or  better  still,  the  cry  of  a  loving  parent 
asking  for  his  child  that  has  run  away  from  him,  "Where  art 
thou  ? " 

(2)  It  contains  also  the  promise  of  merey.  It  shows  that 
God  intended  to  have  mercy  upon  man,  or  else  He  would  have 
let  him  remain  lost,  and  would  not  have  said,  "  Where  art  thou  ?  " 
Men  do  not  inquire  for  what  they  do  not  value.  There  was  a 
gospel  sermon  in  those  three  divine  words  as  they  penetrated  the 
dense  parts  of  the  thicket,  and  reached  the  tingling  ears  of  the 
fugitives — "  Where  art  thou  ? "  Thy  God  is  not  willing  to  lose 
thee ;  He  is  come  forth  to  seek  thee,  just  as  by  and  by  He  means 
to  come  forth  in  the  person  of  His  Son,  not  only  to  seek  but  to 
save  that  which  now  is  lost. 

3.  And  what  is  the  effect  of  God's  question  ? 

(1)  It  rouses  men  to  a  sense  of  their  sinfulness.  Sin  stultifies 
the  conscience,  it  drugs  the  mind,  so  that  after  sin  man  is  not 
capable  of  understanding  his  danger  as  he  would  have  been 
without  it.  Sin  is  a  poison  which  kiUs  conscience  painlessly  by 
mortification.  Men  die  by  sin,  as  men  die  when  frozen  to  death 
upon  the  Alps — they  die  in  a  sleep.  One  of  the  first  works  of 
grace  in  a  man  is  to  put  aside  this  sleep,  to  startle  him  from  his 
lethargy,  to  make  him  open  his  eyes  and  discover  his  danger. 

^  One  of  the  holiest  of  the  Church's  saints,  St.  Bernard, 
was  in  the  habit  of  constantly  warning  himself  by  the  solemn 
query, "  Bernarde,  ad  quid  venisti  ? "  "  Bernard,  for  what  purpose 
art  thou  here  ? "  ^ 

(2)  It  brings  repentant  and  confession.  The  question  was 
meant  to  convince  of  sin,  and  so  to  lead  to  a  confession.  Had 
Adam's  heart  been  in  a  right  state,  he  would  have  made  a  full 
confession  of  his  sinfulness.  It  is  easier  to  make  a  man  start  in 
his  sleep  than  to  make  him  rise  and  bum  the  loathsome  bed  on 
which  he  slumbered ;  and  this  is  what  the  sinner  must  do,  and 
what  he  will  do  if  God  be  at  work  with  hioa.     He  will  wake  up 

^  E.  Morgan, 


86  FELLOWSHIP 

and  find  himself  lost ;  conviction  will  give  him  the  consciousnesu 
that  he  has  destroyed  himself,  and  then  he  will  hate  the  sins  he 
loved  before,  flee  from  his  false  refuges,  and  seek  to  find  a  lasting 
salvation  where  alone  it  can  be  found — in  the  blood  of  Christ. 

^  When  Fletcher  was  a  boy  he  lived  in  Switzerland,  near  the 
mighty  mountains.  He  used  to  like  to  go  out,  when  he  was 
only  seven  years  old,  by  himself,  in  the  beautiful  valleys  and 
mountains,  and  think  about  God.  He  used  to  think  that  the 
mountains  were  like  those  where  Elijah  was.  He  had  several 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  one  day  he  was  very  cross,  and 
quarrelled  with  them.  When  he  went  to  bed  he  was  told  how 
very  wrong  it  was.  John  did  not  say  anything.  When  in  bed, 
of  course  he  could  not  sleep,  and  he  did  a  very  wise  thing.  He 
jumped  out  of  bed,  and  he  knelt  down  and  asked  God  to  forgive 
him.  And  Fletcher  said,  after  he  was  a  man,  "  Oh,  that  was  a 
happy  night!  and  that  was  the  first  time  I  ever  tasted  sweet 
peace."  ^ 

(3)  But  above  everything  else,  and  indeed  as  including  every- 
thing else,  it  calls  forth  a  response  to  God's  love.  "Where  art 
thou?"  is  no  doubt  the  question  of  the  righteous  Judge  from 
whose  wrathful  eye  no  leafy  tree  can  shadow.  Adam  must  not 
imagine  that  his  sin  is  a  light  matter  in  the  estimation  of  Him 
who  claims  unqualified  obedience.  But  it  is  at  the  same  time 
the  voice  of  the  compassionate  Father,  who  Himself  goes  forth  in 
search  of  the  lost  one  who  has  strayed  from  Him,  and  whose 
heart  is  no  less  penetrated  with  the  misery  into  which  His  child 
has  flung  himself  than  with  the  guilt  of  his  palpable  error.  It  is, 
above  all,  the  voice  of  the  compassionate  Saviour,  who  haa 
it  already  in  His  heart  to  guide  the  sinner  through  the  darker 
depths  of  judgment  to  the  glorious  heights  of  an  eternal 
salvation.  "  Where  art  thou  ? "  It  is  the  first  word  of  Grod's 
advent  to  the  world,  His  salutation  of  peace  before  the  utterance 
of  the  alarming  prophecy,  "  I  will  put  enmity  " — a  word  which  at 
the  same  time  may  be  called  the  free  act  of  eternal  compassion, 
and  whence  still,  after  centuries,  the  echo  recalls  to  us  this 
comforting  assurance,  "As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have 
no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked." 

\  The  venerable  Dr.  Harry  Eainy — in  his  old  age,  a  picturesque 
and  familiar  figure  in  the  streets  of  Glasgow  with  his  Highland 

1  James  Yaughan. 


GENESIS  III.  8,  9  87 

plaid,  his  snow-white  hair  and  his  furrowed  face — died  loved  and 
honoured.  In  his  last  years  he  had  a  beautiful  gentleness  of 
spirit,  and,  regarding  this,  his  son,  Principal  Rainy,  in  one  of 
his  delightful  hours  of  reminiscence,  told  me  an  incident  which, 
though  it  has  a  sacred  privacy  about  it,  I  shall  venture  to 
repeat.  Old  Professor  Rainy  had  one  night  a  strange  dream. 
He  dreamt  that  he  was  holding  converse  with  some  August 
Personage,  and  gradually  it  became  clear  that  This  was  none 
other  than  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  The  Divine  Spirit  seemed 
to  be  speaking  of  the  means  which  would  make  His  human 
auditor  a  holy  man.  God  had  used  mercy  and  also  discipline  and 
yet  it  all  had  been  insufficient.  "  The  only  thing,"  so  the  Tran- 
scendent Speaker  seemed  to  say,  "  is  that  you  should  be  brought 
to  realize  more  clearly  how  miich  God  loves  you."  And  from 
that  time  —  "you  may  make  of  it  what  you  will,"  said  the 
Principal — his  father  had  a  peace  and  joy  he  never  had  before.^ 

'  P.  0.  Simpson,  The  Lift  of  Principal  Jtainy,  i.  306. 


The  Conflict  of  the  Ages. 


Literature. 

Arnold  (T.),  Sermons,  vi.  9. 

Amot  (W.),  The  Anchor  of  the  Soul,  68. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  The  King's  Stewards,  274. 

„  The  World's  Childhood,  337,  350. 

Barron  (D.),  Rays  of  Messiah's  Glory,  265, 
Brooks  (P.),  Seeking  Life,  277. 

„  Twenty  Sermons,  93. 

Campbell  (R.  J.),  Thursday  Mornings  at  the  City  Temple,  30. 
Gibson  (J.  M.),  The  Ages  before  Moses,  98. 
Glover  (R.),  By  the  Waters  of  Babylon,  218. 
Hall  (C.  R.),  Advent  to  Whitsun-Day,  90. 
How  (W.  W.),  Plain  Words,  ii.  64. 
Kuegele  (F.),  Country  Sermons,  i.  9. 
Leathes  (S.),  Truth  and  Life,  14. 
Macgregor  (W.  M.),  Some  of  God's  Ministries,  11. 
Maclaren  (A.),  Expositioru  :  Genesis. 
Milligan  (Q.),  in  Great  Texts  of  the  Old  Testament,  267. 
Nicoll  ("V* ,  R.),  The  Garden  of  Nuts,  221. 
Parker  (J.),  Studies  in  Texts,  vi.  166. 
Pressens^  (E.  de),  The  Redeemer,  1. 
Robinson  (S.),  Discowse*  of  Redemption,  57. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  ixii.  No.  1326ii 
Steere  (E.),  Notes  of  Sermons,  No.  24. 
Vaughan  (C.  J.),  Christ  the  Light  of  the  World,  112. 

„  Family  Prayer  and  Sermon  Book,  i.  148. 

„       (J.),  Sffrmons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  xi.  No.  873. 
Winterbotham  (R.),  Sermons  and  Expositions,  8. 
Young  (D.  T.),  The  Enthusiasm  of  God,  79. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  xxix.  154  (Leathes). 
Clergyman's  Magazine,  3rd  Ser,,  i.  110  (Leathes). 


The  Conflict  of  the  Ages. 

And  I  will  put  enmity  between  thee  and  the  woman,  and  between  thy 
seed  and  her  seed :  it  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and  thou  shalt  bruise  his  heel.— 
Gen.  iii.  15. 

1.  This  passage  is  known  as  the  Protevangelium  or  earliest 
QospeL  It  has  obtained  this  name  because  of  the  promise 
contained  in  the  words,  "  It  shall  bruise  thy  head."  The  meaning 
of  the  words  in  the  original  is  a  little  uncertain,  but  if  we  take 
the  translation  of  the  Authorized  and  Eevised  Versions  we  have 
the  metaphor  of  a  man  crushing  a  serpent  with  his  foot  and  a 
serpent  fastening  its  teeth  in  a  man's  heel.  The  crushing  of  the 
head  is  more  than  the  biting  of  the  heel ;  and  thus  is  found  in 
the  passage  the  good  news  of  God  that  Christ  will  trample  Satan 
under  foot  and  gain  a  complete  victory  over  him,  although  He 
Himself  may  be  wounded  in  the  struggle. 

2.  The  merely  literal  explanation  of  the  verse  clearly  does 
not  exhaust  its  meaning.  There  is  something  more  in  the  words  \ 
than  a  declaration  that  the  human  race  will  always  view  with  '■■ 
feelings  of  instinctive  aversion  the  serpent  race.  There  is 
something  more  than  a  prediction  that  mankind  will  be  able  to 
assert  superiority  over  this  reptile  foe  among  the  beasts  of  the  field. 
We  need  not  doubt  that,  whichever  of  the  alternative  renderings 
of  the  verb  be  preferred,  the  underlying  thought  is  that  of  a 
spiritual  conflict  between  the  race  of  man  and  the  influences  of 
temptation,  between  humanity  with  its  gift  of  choice  and  the 
Principle  of  Evil  which  ever  suggests  the  satisfaction  of  the 
lower  desires.  But,  in  addition  to  this  main  thought,  a  twofold 
encouragement  is  given  to  nerve  man  for  the  fray.  He  is  en- 
dowed with  capacities  enabling  him,  if  he  will  use  them,  to  inflict 
a  deadly  blow  upon  the  adversary.  He  stands  erect,  he  is  made 
in  the  image  of  God.  Furthermore,  the  promise  of  ultimate 
victory  is  assured  to  him.     How  it  is  to  be  effected  is  not  explained 


92  THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

in  the  context.  Both  Jewish  and  Christian  interpretation  have 
given  to  the  promise  the  significance  of  a  Messianic  prediction. 
From  the  time  of  Irenseus  (170  a.d.)  "  the  seed  of  the  woman  " 
has  been  understood  in  the  Christian  Church  as  an  allusion  to 
a  personal  Messiah.  Calvin,  followed  by  the  majority  of  the 
Eeformers,  explained  the  words  in  a  more  general  sense,  regarding 
"  the  seed  of  the  woman  "  as  the  descendants  of  the  first  woman, 
but  yet  as  those  from  among  whom,  according  to  the  flesh,  the 
Messiah  should  come. 

3.  The  most  prominent  note  in  the  passage  is  not  that  of 
final  victory  but  of  the  long-continued  struggle.  Christ  will 
gain  the  victory  and  the  victory  will  be  ours  in  Him ;  but  before 
that,  there  is  the  conflict  with  the  serpent  which  every  man  is 
expected  to  take  his  part  in.  It  is  a  conflict  that  is  to  be  carried 
on  throughout  all  the  ages  until  Christ  comes,  and  even  after 
Christ  has  come  and  won  the  victory  the  conflict  continues. 
Every  man  upon  this  earth  must  face  temptation,  and  win  his 
battle.  The  difi'erence  is  that,  whereas  before  Christ  came  all 
that  man  had  to  sustain  him  in  the  conflict  was  the  promise  of 
victory  through  a  coming  conqueror,  in  Christ  the  promise  has 
been  turned  into  a  fact,  and  in  order  to  gain  the  victory  a  man 
has  now  only  to  identify  himself  with  Christ  by  faith. 

4.  The  Protevangelium  lays  down  a  great  ethical  principle. 
There  is  to  be  a  continual  spiritual  struggle  between  man  and 
the  manifold  temptations  by  which  he  is  beset.  Evil  promptings 
and  suggestions  are  ever  assailing  the  sons  of  men ;  and  they 
must  be  ever  exerting  themselves  to  repel  them.  It  is  of  course 
true  that  the  great  and  crowning  defeat  of  man's  spiritual 
adversary  was  accomplished  by  Him  who  was  in  a  special  sense 
the  "  seed  "  of  the  woman,  the  representative  of  humanity,  who 
overcame  once  and  for  all  the  power  of  the  Evil  One.  But  the 
terms  of  the  verse  are  perfectly  general;  and  it  must  not  be 
interpreted  so  as  to  exclude  those  minor,  though  in  their  own 
sphere  not  less  real,  triumphs  by  which  in  all  ages  individuals 
have  resisted  the  suggestions  of  sin  and  proved  themselves 
superior  to  the  power  of  evil.  It  is  a  prolonged  and  continuous 
conflict  which  the  verse  contemplates,  though  one  in  which  the 


GENESIS  III.  15  93 

law  and  aim  of  humanity  is  to  be  to  resist,  and  if  possible  to  slay, 
the  serpent  which  symbolizes  the  power  of  temptation. 

^  "I  have  a  theory,"  says  Hubert  Bland  in  his  volume  of 
essays  entitled,  With  the  Eyes  of  a  Man — "  I  have  a  theory  that 
the  nation  which  shortens  its  weapons  wins  its  battles."  I  am 
not  clear  as  to  how  that  theory  would  work  out  in  the  sphere  of 
lower  warfare;  although  even  there  the  practice  of  long  range 
artillery  must  be  pressed  home  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  if 
victory  is  to  be  secured.  But  in  the  sphere  of  the  higher  warfare 
it  is  certainly  true ;  if  you  want  to  win  you  must  shorten  your 
weapons ;  you  must  look  your  enemy  in  the  white  of  his  eyes ; 
you  must  come  to  close  grips  with  him.^ 

And  evermore  we  sought  the  fight,  but  stiU 
Some  pale  enchantment  clouded  all  our  will, 
So  that  we  faltered;  even  when  the  foe 
Lay,  at  our  sudden  onset,  crushed  and  low, 
Afl  a  flame  dies,  so  passed  our  wrath  away — 
And  fatal  to  us  was  the  battle-day. 

Yet  we  went  willingly,  for  in  our  ears 

With  shrill  reiteration,  the  blind  years 

Taunted  ub  with  our  dreams — our  dreams  more  vain 

Than  on  bare  hills  the  fruitless  fall  of  rain; 

Vain  as  the  unaccomplished  buds  of  spring 

Which  fade  and  fall,  and  know  no  blossoming. 

Wherefore  we,  being  weary  of  the  days 

Which  dumbly  passed  and  left  no  word  of  praise, 

And  ever  as  the  good  years  waned  to  less, 

Growing  more  weary  of  life's  barrenness, 

Strove  with  those  dreams  which  bound  our  spirits  fast, 

Lest  even  death  should  prove  a  dream  at  last. 

So  evermore  we  fought — and  always  fell; 

Yet  was  there  no  man  strong  enough  to  quell 

Our  passionate,  sad  life  of  love  and  hate; 

Tireless  were  we  and  foes  insatiate. 

Though  one  should  slay  us — weaponless  and  dim 

We  bade  our  dreams  ride  forth  and  conquer  him.* 

The  subject,  then,  is  the  struggle  of  man  with  temptation.  It 
is  represented  as  a  conflict  between  the  seed  of  the  woman,  for 
every  man  must  take  his  part  in  it,  and  the  seed  of  the  serpent, 

^  £.  W.  L«wi8.  '  Margaret  Sackville. 


94  THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

for  the  struggle  will  be  according  to  the  circumstances  of  our  own 
time  and  our  own  life.  Let  us  look  first  at  the  origin  of  this 
conflict,  next  at  the  progress  of  it,  and  then  at  the  end  of  it. 

I. 

The  Origin  of  the  Conflict. 

i    Its  Beginning. 

1.  Creation  of  Men  and  Angels. — God  made  three  different 
orders  of  creatures.  The  first  we  call  Angels ;  the  second  Men ; 
and  the  third  includes  the  lower  animals  and  all  other  created 
things.  He  created  them  all  for  obedience.  But  with  a 
difference.  The  third  order — the  lower  animals  and  all  other 
lower  things,  whether  living  or  dead — He  created  for  obedience 
pure  and  simple ;  but  angels  and  men  He  created  for  obedience 
through  love.  The  beasts  obey  because  they  have  no  choice.  The 
sun  rises  and  sets  with  unvarying  regularity,  and  we  use  it  to 
point  the  moral  of  punctual  obedience. 

It  never  comes  a  wink  too  soon, 
Nor  brings  too  long  a  day. 

But  it  has  no  credit  for  that.  It  simply  cannot  help  it.  It  was 
made  to  obey,  and  it  has  no  choice  but  unwavering  obedience. 
Angels  and  men  were  made  for  obedience  also,  but  not  for 
mechanical  obedience.  They  were  made  to  obey  through  love. 
The  sun  was  made  to  do  God's  bidding;  angels  and  men  were 
made  to  love  the  Lord  with  all  their  heart.  Now  love  implies 
choice.  There  must  be  freedom.  I  cannot  love  if  I  cannot  do 
else  but  love.  I  cannot  love  unless  I  am  also  free  to  hate.  There 
must  be  freedom  of  choice.  So  angels  and  men  were  left  free  to 
choose  good  or  evil,  and  it  is  recorded  that  some  angels  and  all 
men  chose  evil 

2.  Fall  of  Angels  and  of  Men. — The  fall  of  the  angels  is  not 
fully  related  in  Scripture,  since  it  does  not  concern  us  to  know  its 
circumstances.  We  do  not  even  know  for  certain  what  was  the 
cause  of  it.     Shakespeare  makes  Wolsey  say — 

Cromwell,  I  charge  thee,  fling  away  ambition: 
By  that  sin  fell  the  angels. 


GENESIS  III.   15  95 

And  we  have  accepted  that  view  of  it.  But  whatever  was  the 
cause,  we  know  that  some  of  the  angels  chose  the  evil  and  fell. 
Man  chose  the  evil  and  fell  also.  The  story  of  his  Choice  and 
Fall  is  told  in  this  third  chapter  of  Genesis.  And  the  first  point 
to  notice  about  it  is  that  it  was  brought  about  through  the 
temptation  of  one  of  the  fallen  angels.  The  narrative  in  Genesis 
speaks  of  the  serpent.  And  throughout  the  narrative  the 
language  is  accommodated  to  the  beast.  But  he  would  be  a  dull 
interpreter  who  saw  no  more  in  this  story  than  an  old  serpent 
myth.  We  interpret  Scripture  by  itself.  And  it  is  certain  that 
in  later  Scripture  it  is  freely  recognized  that  the  author  of  Eve's 
temptation  was  Satan,  the  first  of  the  fallen  angels.  What 
does  that  mean  ?  It  means  that  when  an  angel  falls,  he  falls  more 
utterly  than  man.  Xo  one  tempted  the  angels  to  their  fall. 
They  deKberately  chose  the  evil  of  themselves.  And  so  their  fall 
was  into  evil — evil  absolute.  Henceforth  the  fallen  angels  are 
only  evil  in  will  and  in  purpose.  And  their  work  is  to  do  evil 
continually.  So  the  prince  of  the  fallen  angels  comes,  and,  out  of 
the  evil  that  is  in  him,  tempts  man  to  his  ruin. 

3.  Redemption  of  Men,  not  of  Angels. — Thus  both  angels  and 
men  have  fallen,  but  the  difference  in  their  fall  is  very  great. 
First,  men  have  not  fallen  into  evil  absolutely  like  the  angels. 
Their  moral  darkness  is  still  pierced  with  some  rays  of  light.  And, 
secondly,  men  may  be  redeemed  from  their  evil ;  the  fallen  angels 
may  not.  For  there  is  an  organic  unity  among  men.  There  is  a 
human  nature.  And  when  men  fall  they  fall  together — it  is  man 
that  falls,  not  men.  There  is  no  angel  nature;  for,  are  we  not 
told  that  "  they  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage  ? "  Each 
of  the  fallen  angels  fell  by  himself  alone.  Deliberately  he  chose 
the  evil  for  himself.  So,  when  he  fell,  he  fell  never  to  rise  again. 
Robert  Burns  may  say — 

Auld  Nickie-ben, 
0  wad  ye  tak  a  thought  an'  men' ! 
Ye  aiblins  might — I  dinna  ken — 

Still  hae  a  stake: 
I'm  wae  to  think  upo'  yon  den,     -^ 
Ev'n  for  your  sake! 

But  it  is  a  purely  human  sentiment.     There  is  no  warrant  for 


96  THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

such  expectation  or  possibility  in  Scripture.  The  warrant  is  very 
plainly  all  the  other  way.  But  man  falls  that  he  may  rise  again. 
For  there  is  a  solidarity  in  man.  One  touch  of  nature  makes  the 
whole  world  kin.  And  if  One  will  but  come  and  take  this  human 
nature  on  Him,  enter  this  flesh  of  sin  and  condemn  sin  in  the 
flesh,  then  will  the  way  be  open  to  man  to  return  to  the  love  and 
obedience  of  his  God.  And  He  has  come.  And  when  He  came 
"he  took  not  hold  of  angels;  but  he  took  hold  of  the  seed  of 
Abraham  "  (Heb.  ii.  16). 

ii.  Its  Meaning. 

Thus  the  great  conflict  began.  Tempted  by  Satan,  man  fell, 
but  not  utterly  or  irrecoverably.  He  will  henceforth  keep  up  a 
continuous  warfare  with  Satan.  There  will  be  enmity  between 
Adam  and  Satan,  and  between  their  seed,  from  generation  to 
generation,  till  One  shall  come  to  win  the  victory  for  man. 

1.  There  is  a  gospel  in  the  very  strife  itself.  For  to  begin  no 
battle  is  to  leave  the  victory  with  the  Serpent.  To  open  no 
world-wide  conflict  is  to  leave  the  world  to  the  Prince  of  the 
world.  To  put  no  enmity  between  the  seed  of  the  Serpent  and 
the  seed  of  the  Woman  is  to  see  no  difference  at  last  between 
them. 

^  When  you  send  your  boy  to  college  or  into  the  world,  you 
do  not  ask  for  him  a  wholly  easy  life,  no  obstacles,  a  cordial, 
kindly  reception  from  everybody.  You  do  not  expect  to  see  him 
free  from  anxious  doubts  and  troublesome  experiences  of  soul,  and 
cruel  jarrings  of  his  life  against  the  institutions  and  the  men  whom 
he  finds  in  the  world.  It  would  be  very  strange  if  they  did  not 
come  to  him  if  he  is  genuinely  good  and  pure.  "  Marvel  not," 
said  Jesus  Christ  to  His  disciples,  "if  the  world  hate  you,  ye 
know  that  it  hated  me  before  it  hated  you."  ^ 

2.  The  enmity  between  man  and  sin  has  been  the  great 
impressive  truth  of  human  history.  Mankind  has  never  been 
reconciled  with  sin,  never  come  to  have  such  an  understanding 
with  it  that  the  r«ice  everywhere  has  settled  down  and  made  up 
its  mind  to  being  wicked,  and  asked  nothing  better,  and  been  at 
peace.  That  is  the  greatest  fact  by  far,  the  deepest  fact,  the 
most  pervasive  fact,  in  all  the  world.     Conscience,  the  restlessness 

*  Phillips  Brookfl. 


GENESIS  III.  15  97 

that  comes  of  self-reproach,  the  discontent  that  will  not  let  the 
world  be  at  peace  with  wrong-doing — it  runs  everywhere.  No 
book  of  the  remotest  times,  no  country  of  the  most  isolated  seas, 
no  man  of  strongest  character,  no  crisis  of  history  so  exceptional, 
but  that  in  them  all  you  find  man  out  of  peace  because  he  is  in 
sin,  unable  to  reconcile  himself  with  living  wrong — the  enmity 
between  the  seed  of  the  woman  and  the  seed  of  the  serpent.  It 
is  the  great  fact  of  human  existence. 

^  Hercules,  the  fabled  deliverer  of  Greece,  always  wore  on 
head  and  shoulders  the  skin  of  a  lion  killed  in  his  first  adventure, 
which  Euskin  thus  interprets :  "  Every  man's  Nemean  lion  lies  in 
wait  for  him  somewhere  It  is  the  first  ugly  and  strong  enemy 
that  rises  against  us,  all  future  victory  depending  on  victory  over 
that.  Kill  it;  and  through  all  the  rest  of  Life,  what  once  was 
dreadful  is  your  armour,  and  you  are  clothed  with  that  conquest 
for  every  other,  and  helmed  with  its  crest  of  fortitude  for  evermore. 
Alas,  we  have  most  of  us  to  walk  bareheaded."  ^ 

3.  And  is  it  not  a  blessed  fact  ?  Think  how  different  it  would 
all  have  been  if  this  fact  had  not  been  true  from  the  beginning,  if 
man  had  been  able  to  settle  comfortably  into  sin  and  be  content. 
Men  read  it  as  a  curse,  this  first  declaration  of  God  in  Genesis, 
after  the  Fall.  Is  it  not  r'ather  a  blessing  ?  Man  had  met  Satan. 
Then  God  said,  "  Since  you  have  met  him,  the  only  thing  which 
I  can  now  do  for  you,  the  only  salvation  that  I  can  give  you,  is 
that  you  never  shall  have  peace  with  one  another.  You  may 
submit  to  serve  him,  but  the  instinct  of  rebellion  shall  never  die 
out  in  your  heart."  It  was  the  only  salvation  left.  It  is  the  only 
salvation  left  now  when  a  man  has  begun  to  sin,  that  God  should 
perpetually  forbid  him  to  be  at  peace  in  sinning.  It  is  what  has 
saved  earth  from  becoming  hell  long  ago — this  blessed  decree  of 
God  that,  however  man  and  sin  might  live  together,  there  should 
always  be  enmity  between  them,  they  should  be  natural  foes 
for  ever.  No  man  has  ever  yet  been  bold  enough,  even  in  any 
mad  dream  of  poetry,  to  picture  the  reconciliation  of  the  seed  of 
the  serpent  and  the  seed  of  the  woman,  man's  perfect  satisfaction 
in  sin,  as  the  consummation  and  perfect  close  of  human  history. 

^  There  is  an  Indian  fable  that  a  swan  came  down  to  the 
shore  one  day,  where  a  crane  was  feeding.     This  bird  had  never 
seen  a  swan  before,  and  asked  him  where  he  came  from.     "  I  came 
^  Rnskin,  Queen  of  the  Air,  §  178. 
GEN.-NUM. — 7 


98         THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

from  heaven,"  said  the  swan.  Said  the  crane,  "  I  never  heard  of 
such  a  place.  Where  is  it  ? "  "  Far  away ;  far  better  than  this 
place,"  said  the  swan.  The  old  crane  listened  to  the  swan,  and  at 
last  said,  "  Are  there  snails  there  ? "  The  swan  drew  itself  up 
with  indignation.  "  Well,"  said  the  crane,  "  you  can  have  your 
heaven  then.     I  want  snails."  ^ 

^  There  is  an  awful  possibility  of  giving  over  prayer,  or 
coming  to  think  that  the  Lord's  ear  is  heavy  that  He  cannot  hear, 
and  His  arm  shortened  that  He  cannot  save.  There  is  a  terrible 
significance  in  this  passage,  which  we  quote  from  a  recent  book : 
"  Old  Mr.  Westfield,  a  preacher  of  the  Independent  persuasion  in 
a  certain  Yorkshire  town,  was  discoursing  one  Sunday  with  his 
utmost  eloquence  on  the  power  of  prayer.  He  suddenly  stopped, 
passed  his  hands  slowly  over  his  head — a  favourite  gesture — and 
said  in  dazed  tones :  *  I  do  not  know,  my  friends,  whether  you 
ever  tried  praying ;  for  my  part,  I  gave  it  up  long  ago  as  a  bad 
job.'  The  poor  old  gentleman  never  preached  again.  They  spoke 
of  the  strange  seizure  that  he  had  in  the  pulpit,  and  very  cheer- 
fully and  kindly  contributed  to  the  pension  which  the  authorities 
of  the  chapel  allowed  him.  I  knew  him  five-and-twenty  years 
ago — a  gentle  old  man  addicted  to  botany,  who  talked  of  anything 
but  spiritual  experiences.  I  have  often  wondered  with  what 
sudden  flash  of  insight  he  looked  into  his  own  soul  that  day,  and 
saw  himself  bowing  down  silent  before  an  empty  shrine."  ^ 

^  In  the  great  Church  of  the  Capuchins  at  Rome  there  is  a 
famous  picture,  by  Guido  Eeni,  of  the  Archangel  Michael  triumph- 
ing over  the  Evil  One.  The  picture  represents  the  Archangel 
clad  in  bright  armour  and  holding  in  his  hand  a  drawn  sword, 
with  one  foot  planted  upon  the  head  of  Satan,  who  in  the  form  of 
a  dragon  or  serpent  grovels  and  writhes  beneath  him.  A  sense  of 
victory,  not  unmingled  with  defiance,  shines  on  the  Archangel's 
face ;  while  Satan's  every  feature  is  distorted  with  suffering  and 
hatred.  And  as  we  look  at  the  picture,  we  can  hardly  fail  to  see 
in  it  the  image,  the  representation,  so  often  depicted,  so  earnestly 
longed  for,  of  the  final  victory  of  good  over  evil.  What,  however, 
to  many  at  any  rate,  gives  to  this  picture  a  peculiar  interest  is 
the  famous  criticism  passed  upon  it  in  a  well-known  modern  work 
of  fiction,  Hawthorne's  Transfiguration.  The  Archangel — so  it  is 
there  objected — has  come  out  of  the  contest  far  too  easily.  His 
appearance  and  attitude  give  no  idea  of  the  death-struggle  which 
always  takes  place  before  vice  can  be  overcome  by  virtue.  His 
sword  should  have  been  streaming  with  blood ;  his  armour  dented 

>  L.  A.  Banks,  The  King's  Stewards,  281. 
»  W.  E.  Nicoll,  The  Garden  of  Nuta,  224. 


GENESIS  HI.   15  99 

and  crushed ;  he  should  not  have  been  placing  his  foot  delicately 
upon  his  frustrate  foe,  but  pressing  it  down  hard  as  if  his  very  life 
depended  upon  the  result.^ 

0    bird    that    fights    the    heavens,    and    is    blown    beyond    the 

shore, 
Would   you   leave  your   flight  and   danger   for  a  cage,  to   fight 

no  more  ? 
No  more  the  cold  of  winter,  or  the  hunger  of  the  snow, 
Nor  the  winds   that   blow   you   backward   from   the   path   you 

wish  to  go  ? 
Would  you  leave  your  world  of  passion  for  a  home  that  knows 

no  riot? 
Would   I   change   my  vagrant   longings  for  a   heart  more  full 

of  quiet  ? 
No ! — for  all  its  dangers,  there  is  joy  in  danger  too : 
On,  bird,  and   fight  your  tempests,  and  this  nomad  heart  with 

you.* 

IL 

The  History  of  the  Confuct. 

It  is  a  conflict  which  every  man  must  enter.  If  any  man 
refuses  to  engage  in  the  struggle,  he  declares  himself  to  be  no 
man.  The  gospel  that  is  in  the  words,  "  It  shall  bruise  thy  head," 
does  not  take  away  from  any  man  the  necessity  of  entering  into 
this  affray  and  facing  this  foe.  The  gospel  gives  the  assurance  of 
victory ;  it  does  not  prevent  the  strife.  It  is  impossible,  therefore, 
to  write  the  history  of  the  conflict  fully.  All  that  can  be  done  is, 
under  the  guidance  of  the  Old  Testament,  to  select  outstanding 
events  in  it. 

1.  Eve  seemed  to  think  that  it  was  to  be  a  short  struggle. 
When  her  first-bom  came  she  said,  "  I  have  gotten  a  man  from 
the  Lord."  But  Cain  grew  up  to  manhood,  and  Abel  his  brother ; 
"  and  it  came  to  pass,  when  they  were  in  the  field,  that  Cain  rose 
up  against  Abel  his  brother,  and  slew  him."  The  hoped-for 
victor  is  man's  first  murderer. 

2.  Lamech  thought  he  had  found  the  Deliverer.     "  This  same 

*  6.  Milligan.  •  Dora  Sigereon  Shorter. 


lOo        THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

shall  comfort  us  concerning  our  work  and  toil  of  our  hands, 
because  of  the  ground  which  the  Lord  hath  cursed."  And  he 
called  his  son's  name  Noah.  Now  in  the  conflict  Satan  has  so 
steadily  won  that  it  is  needful  to  sweep  man  from  off  the  face  of 
the  earth,  and  make,  as  it  were,  a  new  start.  But  Noah  cannot 
save  his  brethren.  He  barely  escapes  with  his  own  family.  And 
the  flood  is  only  past  when  even  Noah  himself  has  suffered  from 
the  bite  of  the  Serpent. 

3.  Men  have  got  a  new  start,  however.  Will  they  cope  with 
Satan  now  ?  Not  so.  Steadily  again  Satan  wins.  And  the  earth 
grows  so  corrupt  that  God  chooses  one  man  and  takes  him  out  of 
the  surrounding  abomination,  to  keep  him  apart  and  train  him 
and  his  family  for  Himself  and  His  great  purpose.  That  man  is 
Abraham.  Not  that  God  now  leaves  the  rest  of  the  human  race 
to  the  unresisted  will  of  Satan.  In  no  place,  and  at  no  time,  has 
God  left  Himself  without  witness.  Or,  as  another  apostle  more 
personally  puts  it,  He  kept  coming  amongst  men  in  the  Person  of 
the  Word,  and  whenever  any  one  was  found  willing  to  follow  the 
Light,  power  was  given  to  him  to  become  a  child  of  God.  This 
choice  of  Abraham  and  his  family  is  a  new  departure,  that  through 
him  and  his  seed  all  the  families  of  the  earth  may  be  blessed. 
Is  this  new  departure  successful  ?  Does  the  family  of  Abraham 
now  gain  the  victory  over  Satan,  and  gain  it  always  ?  No ;  not 
even  for  themselves ;  still  less  for  the  rest  of  mankind.  As  the 
same  evangelist  has  it,  "He  came  unto  his  own  and  his  own 
received  him  not."  But  God's  purpose  is  not  in  vain,  nor  even 
thwarted  for  a  moment.  Man  will  be  redeemed,  and  the  redemp- 
tion is  delayed  only  that  it  may  be  to  love  and  new  obedience, 
the  will  to  choose  being  still  left  frea 

Y  4.  And  now  we  can  trace  the  gradual  closing  of  the  promise 
on  a  single  Person.  "  A  prophet  shall  the  Lord  your  God  raise 
up  unto  you."  "  Surely  he  hath  borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our 
sorrows."  "  The  Lord  whom  ye  seek  shall  suddenly  come  to  his 
temple."  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world."  Meanwhile,  the  world  is  suffering  more  and  more 
from  the  low  cunning  and  bite  of  the  serpent.  Eead  that  terrible 
yet  true  description  of  the  morals  of  men  which  St.  Paul  gives  us 


GENESIS  III.  15  loi 

in  his  Epistle  to  the  Komans.  Bead  also  the  scathing  exposure  in 
the  Gospels  of  the  irreligiousness  of  the  religion  of  Israel,  the 
hypocrisy  and  greed  of  the  leaders  and  rulers  of  the  people. 
Satan  seems  to  have  gained  the  victory  along  the  whole  line. 

^  It  is  the  strength  of  the  base  element  that  is  so  dreadful 
in  the  serpent;  it  is  the  very  omnipotence  of  the  earth.  .  .  . 
Watch  it,  when  it  moves  slowly,  with  calm  will  and  equal  way — 
no  contraction,  no  extension ;  one  soundless,  causeless  march  of 
sequent  rings,  and  spectral  procession  of  spotted  dust.  Startle  it ; 
— the  winding  stream  will  become  a  twisted  arrow,  the  wave  ojf 
poisoned  life  will  lash  through  the  grass  like  a  cast  lance.  It 
scarcely  breathes  with  its  one  lung ;  it  is  passive  to  the  sun  and 
shade,  and  is  cold  or  hot  like  a  stone ;  yet  it  can  outclimb  the 
monkey,  outswim  the  fish,  outleap  the  zebra,  outwrestle  the 
athlete,  and  crush  the  tiger.  It  is  a  divine  hieroglyph  of  the 
demoniac  power  of  the  earth — of  the  entire  earthly  nature.  As 
the  bird  is  the  clothed  power  of  the  air,  so  this  is  the  clothed 
power  of  the  dust ;  as  the  bird  the  symbol  of  the  spirit  of  life, 
so  this  of  the  grasp  and  sting  of  death.^ 

When   in   my   shadowy   hours   I   pierce    the   hidden   heart   of 

hopes  and  fears, 
They  change  into  immortal  joys  or  end  in  immemorial  tears. 
Moytura's    battle   still   endures    and    in   this   human   heart    of 

mine 
The    golden    sun   powers    with   the   might  of  demon   darkness 

intertwine. 

I  think  that  every  teardrop   shed  still  flows  from  Balor's  eye 

of  doom. 
And  gazing  on  his  ageless  grief  my  heart  is  filled  with  ageless 

gloom : 
I  close  my  ever-weary  eyes  and  in  my  bitter  spirit  brood 
And  am  at  one  in  vast  despair  with  all  the  demon  multitude. 

But  in  the  lightning  flash  of  hope   I   feel   the  sun-god's  fiery 

sling 
Has   smote   the   horror   in   the    heart   where   clouds   of  demon 

glooms  take  wing, 
I  shake  my  heavy  fears  aside  and  seize  the  flaming  sword  ol 

will 
I  am  of  Dana's  race  divine  and  know  I  am  immortal  still.' 

>  Buskin,  Quf.m  o/the  Air,  §  68.  »  A.  E.,  Hie  Divine  Visicm,  76. 


102        THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

III. 

The  End  of  the  Conflict. 

The  victor  comes  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  "On  the  morrow 
John  seeth  Jesus  coming  unto  him,  and  saith,  Behold,  the  Lamb 
of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world."  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  has  come  as  man's  representative  and  redeemer  to 
atone  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  But  first.  He  is  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  He  is  a  man.  Before  He  begins  His  work  of  atone- 
ment, before  He  takes  upon  Him  the  redemption  of  the  world, 
He  must  fight  His  own  man's  battle.  To  every  man  upon  this 
earth  that  battle  comes.  It  comes  to  Jesus  also.  Therefore 
before  the  public  ministry  begins,  before  He  begins  to  heal  the 
sick  or  raise  the  dead  or  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor,  "  the 
Spirit  driveth  him  into  the  wilderness  to  be  tempted  of  the 
devil" 

i.  His  Temptation  as  a  Man. 

This  is  the  place  of  the  Temptation  in  the  Wilderness.  Jesus 
is  a  man,  and  He  must  face  the  foe  whom  every  man  has  to  face. 
He  must  fight  the  battle  which  every  man  has  to  fight.  And 
He  must  win.  If  He  does  not  win,  how  can  He  atone  for  the 
sins  of  the  world  ?  If  as  a  man  He  does  not  win  His  own  man's 
battle,  why,  then.  He  has  His  own  sins  to  reckon  with,  and  how 
can  He  even  come  forward  as  the  Eedeemer  of  the  race  ?  Jesus 
must  fight  and  Jesus  must  win,  just  as  we  all  have  to  fight,  but 
not  one  of  us  has  won.  That  is  the  place  of  the  Temptation, 
And  that  is  why  the  Temptation  in  the  Wilderness  is  recorded. 
It  is  every  man's  Temptation.  It  may  be  spread  over  our  life; 
it  could  not  have  been  spread  over  the  life  of  Jesus,  otherwise 
He  could  not  have  begun  His  atonement  till  His  life  was  at  an 
end;  but  it  is  the  same  temptation  that  comes  to  every  man. 
It  is  the  temptation  that  came  to  Eve.  Point  for  point  the 
temptations  of  Eve  and  the  temptations  of  Jesus  correspond. 
Eve's  temptations  were  three ;  so  were  the  temptations  of  Jesus. 
Eve's  temptations  assailed  the  body,  the  mind,  and  the  spiiit; 
80  did  the  temptations  of  Jesus. 

1.  The  First  Temptation. — The  first  temptation  was  a  bodily 
temptation.     She  "saw  chat  the  tree  was  good  for  food."    "H 


GENESIS  III.   15  103 

thou  art  the  Son  of  God,  command  this  stone  that  it  be  made 
bread."  There  is  the  difference,  certainly,  that  Eve  was  not 
hungry,  while  Jesus  was.  The  sin  of  Eve  was  the  greater  that 
she  sinned  not  through  the  cravings  of  hunger,  but  merely 
through  the  longing  for  forbidden,  or  it  might  be  daintier,  food. 
But  though  the  temptation  was  more  intense  for  Jesus,  it  did 
not  differ  from  Eve's  essentially.  It  was  the  desire  for  food. 
It  was  the  longing  to  satisfy  a  bodily  appetite.  And  it  does  not 
matter  how  imperious  that  appetite  may  be,  it  is  not  to  be 
satisfied  unlawfully.  Eve  saw  that  she  had  the  opportunity  of 
satisfying  it,  Jesus  saw  that  He  had  the  power.  Eve  was 
tempted  to  satisfy  it  by  using  an  opportunity  which  God  had 
not  given  her,  Jesus  by  using  a  power  which  had  been  given 
Him  for  another  purpose.  It  does  not  matter  essentially 
whether  it  is  to  avoid  starvation  or  merely  for  greater  luxury, 
we  sin  with  Eve  if  we  seize  an  opportunity  or  take  advantage 
of  our  position  to  do  that  for  our  body  or  outward  estate  which 
God  has  commanded  us  not  to  do. 

2,  The  Second  Temptation. — The  second  temptation  was  to 
the  mind.  "  And  that  it  was  a  delight  to  the  eyes  " — thus  the 
temptation  came  to  Eve.  He  "showed  him  all  the  kingdoms 
of  the  world  in  a  moment  of  time" — thus  it  came  to  Jesus. 
Now  the  temptation  to  the  mind  does  not  come  to  every  one. 
It  does  not  come  to  those  who  are  absorbed  in  the  things  of 
the  body.  The  three  temptations  came  to  Eve  because  Eve  is 
typical  of  the  whole  human  race.  And  the  three  temptations 
came  to  Jesus,  because  He  is  typical  also,  and  because  He 
resisted  them  all.  The  temptation  to  the  mind  is  higher ;  it  is 
a  nobler  temptation  than  the  temptation  to  the  body.  There 
are  those  to  whom  the  fragrance  or  beauty  of  the  apple  makes 
irresistible  appeal,  who  would  never  be  driven  to  do  wrong  merely 
in  order  to  have  it  to  eat.  It  is  a  subtler  temptation  also.  We 
are  willing  to  starve  that  we  may  hear  good  music  or  give 
ourselves  a  scientific  education.  And  we  cannot  perceive  that 
we  are  falling  before  a  temptation.  But  music  or  science  may 
be  pursued  for  purely  selfish  ends.  In  their  pursuit,  too,  some 
nearer  duty  may  be  neglected.  And  the  fall  is  often  obvious 
enough :    a   doubtful   companionship,   such   as  music   sometimes 


I04        THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

introduces  us  to ;  or  a  denial  of  God  such  as  science  sometimes 
leads  us  to. 

But  the  temptation  to  Jesus  was  nobler,  we  do  not  doubt, 
and  more  subtle  than  the  temptation  to  the  mind  has  ever  been 
to  any  other  man.  He  saw  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  at  a 
glance,  and  the  glory  of  them.  He  was  offered  them  as  His 
own.  Now,  He  desired  to  have  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  as 
His  own.  All  the  difference  seemed  to  be  that  the  Devil  offered 
them  at  once  without  the  agony  of  winning  them — the  agony  to 
Him  or  to  us.  He  was  offered  them  without  the  agony  to 
Himself.  Some  think  that  He  did  not  know  yet  what  that 
agony  was.  He  did  not  know  that  He  was  to  be  despised  and 
rejected  of  ijaen.  He  did  not  know  that  He  was  to  lose  the 
sense  of  the  Father's  well-pleasing.  He  did  not  know  what 
the  Garden  was  to  be  or  what  the  Cross.  They  say  so.  But 
how  can  they  tell  ?  One  thing  is  sure.  He  knew  enough  to 
make  this  a  keen  temptation. 

But  He  was  also  offered  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  without 
the  agony  to  us.  That  temptation  was  yet  more  terrible.  For 
when  the  Cross  was  past,  the  agony  to  us  was  but  beginning. 
And  He  felt  our  agony  more  keenly  than  He  felt  His  own. 
What  a  long-drawn  agony  it  has  been.  Two  thousand  years  of 
woe!  and  still  the  redemption  is  not  complete.  To  be  offered 
the  homage  of  the  human  heart,  to  be  offered  its  love — such  love 
as  it  would  have  been  where  there  was  no  choice  left — to  end 
the  poverty  and  the  sickness  and  the  blindness  and  the  leprosy 
and  the  death,  not  by  an  occasional  laying  on  of  the  hands  in 
a  Galilean  village,  but  in  one  world-embracing  word  of  healing ; 
to  end  the  sin  without  waiting  for  the  slow  movements  of  con- 
science and  the  slow  dawnings  of  faith — it  was  a  sore  temptation. 
But  it  must  not  be.  To  deliver  from  the  consequence  of  sin 
without  the  sorrow  for  it,  to  accept  the  homage  of  the  heart  of 
man  without  its  free  choice  of  love,  is  to  leave  the  Serpent 
master  stilL  The  world  is  very  fair  to  look  upon  as  He  sees 
it  in  a  moment  of  time  from  that  mountain-top;  but  it  cannot 
be  His  until  He  has  Buffered  for  it,  and  until  it  has  suffered 
with  Him. 

3.  The    Third    Temptation. — The    third    temptation    was    a 


GENESIS  III.   15  105 

temptation  to  the  spirit.  Eye  saw  "that  the  tree  was  to  be 
desired  to  make  one  wise."  Jesus  was  invited  to  cast  Himself 
down  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  trusting  in  God  and  in 
the  promise  that  no  harm  should  befall  Him.  The  "wisdom" 
which  Eve  was  promised  was  spiritual  wisdom.  It  was  the 
wisdom  of  God.  "Ye  shall  be  as  gods,"  said  the  Serpent, 
"knowing  good  and  evil."  And  this  wisdom  became  hers 
when  she  had  eaten.  "  Behold,  the  man  is  become  as  one  of 
us,  to  know  good  and  evil."  It  was  such  wisdom  as  God  has. 
And  God  is  a  Spirit.  It  was  spiritual  wisdom.  Man  is  both 
spiritual  and  material.  As  a  spiritual  being  he  has  certain 
spiritual  experiences.  But  as  long  as  the  spirit  is  in  touch  with 
the  body  its  experiences  are  limited  in  their  range.  God  is 
a  Spirit,  and  His  experience  knows  no  bounds.  When  man 
attempts  to  pass  the  bounds  of  human  experience  and  enter 
the  experience  of  God,  he  sins. 

Eve  was  so  tempted  and  felL  Jesus  also  was  so  tempted, 
but  He  resisted  the  temptation.  As  God  He  can  throw 
Himself  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  with  impunity,  just 
as  He  can  walk  upon  the  water.  And  the  Devil  reminds  Him 
that  He  is  God.  But  this  is  His  temptation  as  a  man.  As  a 
man  He  cannot,  as  a  man  He  has  no  right,  to  tempt  God  by 
casting  Himself  down.  To  Eve  and  to  Jesus  it  was  the  tempta- 
tion to  an  enlargement  of  experience  beyond  that  which  is 
given  to  man.  And  it  lay,  as  it  always  does,  in  the  direction 
of  the  knowledge  of  evil.  There  are  those  who,  like  Eve,  still 
enter  into  evil  not  from  the  mere  love  of  evil  or  the  mere 
spirit  of  rebellion,  but  in  order  to  taste  that  which  they  have 
not  tasted  yet.  They  wish  to  know  "  what  it  is  like."  There 
are  men  and  women  who  can  trace  their  drunkard's  lifelong 
misery  to  this  very  source. 

To  Eve  the  sharpness  of  the  temptation  lay  in  the  promise 
of  larger  spiritual  experiences.  Let  us  not  say  it  was  a  vulgar 
curiosity.  The  promise  was  that  she  would  be  as  God,  that  she 
would  know  what  God  knows.  Perhaps  she  even  felt  that  it 
would  bring  her  into  closer  sympathy  with  God,  the  sympathy 
of  a  larger  common  experience.  To  Jesus  this  also  was  the 
sharpness  of  the  temptation.  He  was  God,  but  He  was  being 
tempted  as  a  man.     It  was  not  merely,  as  in  the  first  temptation, 


io6        THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

that  He  was  invited  to  use  His  power  as  Eedeemer  for  His  own 
human  advantage.  It  was  that  He  was  invited  to  enter  into  the 
experience  of  God,  to  enter  into  the  fulness  of  knowledge  which 
belongs  to  God,  to  prove  Himself,  and  to  feel  in  perfect  sympathy 
with  the  whole  range  of  experience  of  the  Father.  It  seemed 
like  trust:  it  would  have  been  presumption.  We  sometimes 
enter  into  temptation  saying  that  we  will  trust  God  to  deliver 
us.  No  one  ever  yet  entered  into  temptation,  unsent  by  God, 
and  came  forth  scathless, 

^  Let  us  not  undervalue  the  blessing  which  would  come  to 
us  if  Jesus  Christ  were  simply  one  of  us,  setting  forth  with 
marvellous  vividness  the  universal  conflict  of  the  world,  the 
perpetual  strife  of  man  with  evil.  Surely  that  strife  becomes  a 
different  thing  for  each  of  us,  when  out  of  our  own  little  skirmish 
in  some  corner  of  the  field,  we  look  up  and  see  the  Man  of  men 
doing  just  the  same  work  on  the  hilltop  where  the  battle  rages 
thickest.  The  schoolboy  tempted  to  tell  a  lie,  the  man  fighting 
with  his  lusts,  the  soldier  struggling  with  cowardice,  the  states- 
man with  corruption,  the  poor  creature  fettered  by  the  thousand 
little  pin-pricks  of  a  hostile  world — they  all  find  the  dignity  of 
their  several  battles  asserted,  find  that  they  are  not  unnatural, 
but  natural,  find  that  they  are  not  in  themselves  wicked  but 
glorious,  when  they  see  that  the  Highest,  entering  into  their  lot, 
manifested  the  eternal  enmity  between  the  seed  of  the  serpent 
and  our  common  humanity  at  its  fiercest  and  bitterest.^ 

When  gathering  clouds  around  I  view, 
And  days  are  dark  and  friends  are  few, 
On  Him  I  lean,  who  not  in  vain 
Experienced  every  human  pain; 
He  sees  my  wants,  allays  my  fears. 
And  counts  and  treasures  up  my  tears. 

If  aught  should  tempt  my  soul  to  stray 

From  heavenly  wisdom's  narrow  way; 

To  fly  the  good  I  would  pursue, 

Or  do  the  sin  I  would  not  do; 

Still  He,  who  felt  temptation's  power, 

Shall  guard  me  in  that  dangerous  hour. 

If  wounded  love  my  bosom  swell, 
Deceived  by  those  I  prized  too  well; 

1  Phillips  Brooka. 


GENESIS  III.   15  107 

He  shall  His  pitying  aid  bestow, 
Who  felt  on  earth  severer  woe; 
At  once  betrayed,  denied,  or  fled, 
By  those  who  shared  His  daily  bread. 

If  vexing  thoughts  within  me  rise, 
And,  sore  dismayed,  my  spirit  dies; 
Still  He,  who  once  vouchsafed  to  bear 
The  sickening  anguish  of  despair. 
Shall  sweetly  soothe,  shall  gently  dry, 
The  throbbing  heart,  the  streaming  eye. 

When  sorrowing  o'er  some  stone  I  bend. 
Which  covers  what  was  once  a  friend, 
4^nd  from  his  voice,  his  hand,  his  smile, 
Divides  me  for  a  little  while; 
Thou,  Saviour,  mark'st  the  tears  I  shed. 
For  Thou  didst  weep  o'er  Lazarus  dead! 

And  0 !  when  I  have  safely  past 
Through  every  conflict  but  the  last; 
Still,  still  unchanging,  watch  beside 
My  painful  bed,  for  Thou  hast  died ! 
Then  point  to  realms  of  cloudless  day, 
And  wipe  the  latest  tear  away.^ 


iL  His  Work  of  Redemption. 

Jesus  was  tempted  of  the  Devil  and  resisted  all  the  tempta- 
tions. What  it  cost  Him  we  cannot  tell.  We  know  it  cost  Him 
much.  Angels  came  and  ministered  unto  Him.  He  needed  their 
ministrations.  But  He  won  His  battle.  N"o  one  could  convict 
Him  of  sin.  He  is  ready  now  to  be  the  Lamb  of  God  that 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world. 

1.  His  Works. — When  He  begins  His  work  of  Eedemption 
He  can  use  His  powers  as  the  Son  of  God.  The  Devil's 
temptation,  "  If  thou  art  the  Son  of  God,"  is  a  temptation  no 
longer.  He  begins  His  works  of  wonder.  He  heals  the  sick  ;  He 
preaches  the  gospel  to  the  poor ;  He  accepts  the  cup  and  drinks 
it ;  He  cries,  "  It  is  finished." 

*  Bobert  Grant. 


io8        THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

2.  Son  of  Man. — While  the  Temptation  in  the  Wilderness  was 
the  temptation  of  a  mau,  the  atonement  for  sin  was  the  atonement 
of  the  Son  of  Man,  man's  representative ;  the  atonement  of  the 
race  in  Him,  This  is  the  essential  thing  in  the  Cross.  He  took 
hold  of  our  nature;  in  our  nature  He  suffered  and  died.  Our 
nature  suffered  and  died  in  Him.  This  is  the  essential  thing, 
that  He  made  the  atonement  as  Man,  that  man  made  the 
atonement  when  He  made  it.  After  the  Temptation  in  the 
Wilderness  the  Devil  left  Him  for  a  season.  When  he  came 
back  he  did  not  come  back  to  a  man.  He  came  back  to  the  race 
of  man,  represented  and  gathered  into  one  in  Christ.  He  came 
back  not  to  seek  to  throw  one  human  being  as  he  had  thrown 
so  many  human  beings  before.  He  came  to  fight  for  his  kingdom 
and  his  power.  • 

3.  Victory. — It  did  seem  as  if  the  Devil  had  won  this  time. 
As  the  fight  closed  in,  Jesus  Himself  said,  "This  is  your  hour, 
and  the  power  of  darkness."  The  Devil  had  the  whole  world  on 
his  side  in  the  struggle.  The  religious  leaders  were  especially 
active.  And  the  end  came — death  and  darkness.  It  did  seem 
as  if  the  Devil  had  won  this  time,  and  this  was  the  greater  battle 
to  win.  But  "  except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  earth  and  die, 
it  abideth  alone."  Without  death  Jesus  was  sinless.  In  death 
He  gathered  many  to  His  sinlessness.  Death  and  the  Devil  got 
hold  of  Him  but  lost  their  hold  of  us.  It  was  the  Devil's  greatest 
triumph.     It  was  his  greatest  defeat. 

4.  Faith  in  the  Victor. — One  thing  remains.  We  must  accept 
Him.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  open,  but  it  is  open  to  all 
believers.  He  could  not  have  this  fair  world  without  the  agony ; 
we  cannot  have  Him  without  it.  For  it  is  love  that  is  wanted. 
Nothing  is  wanted  but  love.  It  is  the  love  of  the  heart  that 
makes  Paradise.  And  love  must  be  free.  There  is  no  compulsion. 
Sin  must  be  felt  and  repented  of ;  a  Saviour  must  be  seen  and 
made  welcome.  By  faith  we  must  become  one  with  Him  as  He 
has  become  one  with  us. 

^  Every  earnest  man  grows  to  two  strong  convictions :  one, 
of  the  victory  to  which  a  life  may  come;  the  other  of  the 
obstacles  and  wounds  which  it  must  surely  encounter  in  coming 
there.     Alas  for  him  who  gains  only  one  of   these  convictions 


GENESIS  III.  15  109 

Alas  for  him  who  learns  only  confidence  in  the  result,  and  never 
catches  sight  of  all  that  must  come  in  between — the  pains  and 
blows  and  disappointments !  How  many  times  he  will  sink  down 
and  lose  his  hope !  How  many  times  some  wayside  cross  will 
seem  to  be  the  end  of  everything  to  him !  Alas  also  for  him  who 
only  feels  the  wounds  and  sees  no  victory  ahead !  How  often 
life  will  seem  to  him  not  worth  the  living !  There  are  multitudes 
of  men  of  this  last  sort;  men  with  too  much  seriousness  and 
perception  to  say  that  the  world  is  easy,  too  clear-sighted 
not  to  see  its  obstacles,  too  pure  not  to  be  wounded  and 
offended  by  its  wickedness,  but  with  no  faith  large  enough  to 
look  beyond  and  see  the  end ;  men  with  the  wounded  heel 
that  hinders  and  disables  them,  but  with  no  strength  to  set  the 
wounded  foot  upon  the  head  of  the  serpent  and  to  claim  their 
triumph.* 

^  I  do  not  doubt  that  many  of  you  noted,  as  I  did,  the 
description  given  in  the  newspaper  dispatches  of  the  visit  of 
Theodore  Koosevelt  to  the  tomb  of  Napoleon,  and  you  perhaps 
noted  how  he  took  up  the  sword  which  the  great  warrior  carried 
in  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  and  waved  it  about  his  head  and 
examined  its  edge,  and  held  it  aloft,  seeming  in  the  meantime  to 
be  profoundly  impressed.  And  we  may  well  imagine  and  believe 
that  the  hero  of  San  Juan  Hill  was  stirred  in  every  drop  of  his 
soldierly  blood  as  he  stood  on  that  historic  spot  with  that  famous 
sword  gripped  in  his  right  hand.  But  if  we  could  gather  together 
all  the  famous  swords  kept  in  all  the  capitals  of  the  world,  in 
memory  of  princes  and  warriors  and  heroes  who  have  carried 
them  on  historic  battlefields,  they  would  be  insignificant  in 
comparison  to  that  "  sword  of  the  Spirit,"  of  which  Paul  speaks 
in  his  letter  to  the  Ephesians — a  sword  by  which  millions  of 
humble  men  and  women,  and  even  boys  and  girls,  have  put  to 
flight  the  alien  armies  of  hell  and  maintained  their  integrity 
against  odds  as  the  faithful  children  of  God.^ 

The  far  winds  brought  me  tidings  of  him — one 
Who  fought  alone,  a  champion  unafraid, 

Hurt  in  the  desperate  warring,  faint,  fordone; 
I  loved  him,  and  I  prayed. 

The  far  winds  told  the  turning  of  the  strife; 

Into  his  deeds  there  crept  a  strange  new  fire. 
Unconquerable,  the  glory  of  his  life 

Fulfilled  my  soul's  desire. 

>  Phillips  Brooks.  '  L.  A.  Banks,  The  World's  Childhood,  344. 


no       THE  CONFLICT  OF  THE  AGES 

God  knows  what  mighty  bond  invisible 

Gave  my  dream  power,  wrought  answer  to  my  prayer; 
God  knows  in  what  far  world  our  souls  shall  tell 

Of  triumph  that  we  share. 

I  war  alone;  I  shall  not  see  his  face, 

But  I  shall  strive  more  gladly  in  the  sun, 

More  bravely  in  the  shadow,  for  this  grace: 
"  He  fought  his  fight,  and  won." 


The  Tree  of  Lifb. 


Literature. 

Brooks  (P.),  Seeking  Life,  161. 
Brown  (J.  B.),  The  Divine  Life  in  Man,  1. 
Lewis  (E.  W.),  The  Unescapeable  Christ,  214. 
Matbeson  (Q.),  Leaves  for  Quiet  Hours,  165. 
Vaughan  (G.  J.),  The  Two  Oreat  Temptations,  44. 

„        (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  ii.  No.  325  ;  ix.  No.  759. 
Winterbotham  (R.),  Sermons  in  Holy  Trin'Uy  Church,  76. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  liL  101  (Boyd  Carpenter) ;  Ivii.  109  (Maver) ; 
Ixiii.  269  (Ralph). 


The  Tree  of  Life. 

So  he  drove  out  the  man ;  and  be  placed  at  the  east  of  the  garden  of 
Eden  the  Cherubim,  and  the  flame  of  a  sword  which  turned  every  way,  to 
keep  the  way  of  the  tree  of  life. — Gen.  iii.  34. 

1.  Thb  recent  discussions  about,  and  criticisms  of,  the  first 
chapters  of  the  Book  of  Genesis  have  left  a  certain  vague  and 
uncomfortable  feeling  in  the  minds  of  many  men.  Not  a  few 
people,  probably,  think  in  a  dim  sort  of  way  that  geology,  or 
something  else,  has  made  those  chapters  of  very  doubtful  worth. 
The  worst  part  of  this  feeling  is  that  it  robs  the  early  story  of 
our  race  of  the  spiritual  power  that  it  possesses.  Apart  from 
the  question  of  its  historic  character,  the  account  of  man's 
origin  which  is  given  in  Genesis  is  profoundly  true  to  man's 
spiritual  experience,  and  its  imagery  ia  representative  of  perpetual 
and  universal  trutL 

2.  Let  us  briefly  recall  the  story.  In  the  garden  where  God 
first  placed  man,  the  scene  of  his  earliest  experiences,  it  is  said 
that  God,  his  Creator,  planted  two  trees.  There  are  many  others, 
but  these  two  are  noticeable  and  distinct.  One  of  them  is  the 
Tree  of  the  Knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil,  and  the  other  is  the 
Tree  of  Life.  There  they  stand  side  by  side,  both  beautiful,  both 
tempting.  But  on  one  of  them — the  most  tempting — a  prohibi- 
tion is  laid.  Of  the  tree  of  knowledge  man  must  not  taste. 
But  man  rebels,  wilfully,  independently,  against  God's  word,  and 
does  eat  of  this  tree.  The  consequence  is  that  he  ia  not  allowed 
to  eat  of  the  other  tree.  He  is  driven  out  of  the  garden  where 
it  stands,  and  is  forbidden  to  return ;  and  his  return  is  made 
impossible  by  "  Cherubim,  and  a  flaming  sword  which  turned 
every  way,  to  keep  the  way  of  the  tree  of  Hfe." 

3.  Thus  begins  the  long  career  of  humanity.  Man  is  forced 
to  undertake  the  work  and  drudgery  of  living.     The  centuries, 

GEN.-NUM. — 8 


114  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

laden  with  wars  and  pains  and  hopes  and  fears  and  disappoint- 
ments and  successes,  start  on  their  slow  procession.  But  no 
more  is  heard  of  the  tree  of  life.  It  is  not  mentioned  again  in 
the  course  of  the  Bible.  It  is  left  behind  the  closed  gate  and 
the  flaming  sword,  until  we  are  surprised,  at  the  extreme  other 
end  of  the  Bible,  the  New  Testament,  to  see  it  suddenly  reappear. 
In  the  Book  of  Kevelation,  where  the  promises  of  the  world's 
final  glory  are  gathered,  this  promise  stands  among  the  brightest : 
"  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  life, 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Paradise  of  God."  The  long-lost 
tree  is  not  lost  after  all.  God  has  only  been  keeping  it  out  of 
sight;  and  at  last  He  brings  man  to  it,  and  invites  him  to  eat. 
"  In  the  midst  of  the  street  of  it,  and  on  either  side  of  the  river, 
was  there  the  tree  of  life,  which  bare  twelve  manner  of  fruits, 
and  yielded  her  fruit  every  month;  and  the  leaves  of  the  tree 
were  for  the  healing  of  the  nations."  Into  this  glory  the  angels 
of  God  are  to  bring  His  people  at  the  last. 

IF  It  is  interesting,  I  think,  to  turn  to  the  New  Testament  and 
see  how,  when  Jesus  Christ  came,  the  story  which  He  had  to  tell 
of  man's  condition  and  prospects  was  just  the  same  with  this  old 
story  of  the  tree  of  Genesis.  Take  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son 
— how  different  it  is !  how  quiet  and  domestic  and  familiar !  how 
homely  in  its  quaint  details  !  But  if  you  look  at  it,  you  will  see 
that  the  meaning  is  the  same.  There,  too,  there  is  a  first  native 
possibility,  the  place  in  the  father's  house  to  which  the  boy  was 
bom.  There,  too,  that  possibility  ceases  to  be  actual  because  of 
the  wilfulness  of  him  to  whom  it  was  offered.  "Give  me  the 
portion  of  goods  that  falleth  to  me";  it  is  exactly  Adam  and 
Eve  over  again.  There,  too,  the  possibility  is  not  destroyed,  but 
stands  waiting,  out  of  sight  of  the  wanderer,  but  always  expecting 
his  return ;  the  father's  house  from  which  the  son  goes  out,  and 
which  stands  with  its  door  open  when  long  afterwards  he  comes 
struggling  back.  There,  too,  the  instant  that  submission  is 
complete — "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father " — the  lost  possi- 
bility is  found  again,  for,  "  When  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his 
father  saw  him,  and  ran,  and  fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him." 
The  story  of  the  tree  of  life  and  the  story  of  the  prodigal  son  are 
the  same  story.  Drawn  with  such  different  touch,  coloured  in 
such  different  hues,  they  set  before  us  still  the  same  picture  of 
the  life  of  man.^ 

»  Phillips  Brooks. 


GENESIS  III.  24  115 

Therefore  in  sight  of  man  bereft 

The  happy  garden  still  was  left, 
The  fiery  sword  that  guarded  show'd  it  too, 

Turning  all  ways,  the  world  to  teach, 

That  though  as  yet  beyond  our  reach, 
Still  in  its  place  the  tree  of  life  and  glory  grew,* 

Let  us  consider — 
I.  The  Loss  of  the  Tree  of  Life. 
II.  The  Guardians  of  the  Tree  of  Life. 
III.  The  Kecovery  of  the  Tree  of  Life. 


The  Loss  of  the  Teeb  of  Life. 

1.  The  tree  of  life  signifies  the  fulness  of  human  existence 
— that  complete  exercise  of  every  power,  that  roundness  and 
perfectness  of  being  which  was  in  God's  mind  when  He  made 
man  in  His  own  image.  It  represents  not  mere  endurance,  not 
merely  an  existence  which  is  going  to  last  for  ever.  It  represents 
quality  more  than  quantity,  or  quantity  only  as  it  is  the  result 
of  quality.  To  eat  of  the  tree  of  life  is  to  enter  into  and  occupy 
the  fulness  of  human  existence,  to  enjoy  and  exercise  a  life 
absolute  and  perfect,  to  live  in  the  full  completeness  of  our 
powers.  We  can  feel  how  this  luxuriousness  and  fulness  are 
naturally  embodied  under  the  figure  of  a  tree.  In  many  myths 
of  many  races,  the  tree  has  seemed  the  fittest  symbol  of  the  life 
of  man ;  and  the  tree  perfect  in  God's  garden  is  the  truest  picture 
of  man's  whole  nature  complete  under  His  care. 

2.  Man  was  banished  from  the  Garden  of  Eden,  The  tree  of 
life  which  was  in  the  midst  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  was  the  one 
thing  that  was  now  going  to  be  safeguarded  by  the  presence  of 
the  Cherubim  and  by  the  flaming  sword.  We  must  not  suppose 
that  there  was  anything  undesirable  now  in  the  tree  of  life  as 
such — that  is  to  say,  we  must  not  imagine  that  there  was  a  change 
in  the  character  of  its  value.  Sometimes  we  are  inclined  to  read 
the  story  as  though  it  meant  that  it  was  no  longer  desirable  that 
man  should  take  of  the  tree  of  life.     What  the  narrative  really 

I  John  E«bl«,  The  Chrittian  Tear,  Sexagesima  Sunday. 


ii6  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

does  mean  is  that  it  was  no  longer  desirable  that  man  should  take 
of  the  tree  of  life  on  the  old  conditions.  The  old  conditions  were 
conditions  of  ease. 

^  That  which  we  have  is  never  the  tree  of  life  to  us.  The 
tree  of  life  is  always  the  thing  which  we  must  reach  forward  to 
attain ;  and  if  our  condition  of  life  is  that  we  are  satisfied  to  take 
these  fruits  which  grow  upon  the  tree  of  life,  what  is  according 
to  the  ordinary  conventional  acceptation  the  best  thing,  the 
correct  thing,  the  most  important  thing,  let  us  not  be  satisfied 
with  that.  Let  us  look  over  once  more  where  the  protecting 
rampart  of  fire  and  of  sword  stands  between  us  and  some  more 
desirable  object.^ 

Old  man,  old  man,  God  never  closed  a  door 
Unless  one  opened.     I  am  desolate, 
For  a  most  sad  resolve  wakes  in  my  heart ; 
But  always  I  have  faith.     Old  men  and  women 
Be  silent;  He  does  not  forsake  the  world. 
But  stands  before  it  modelling  in  the  clay 
And  moulding  there  His   image.     Age  by  age 
The  clay  wars  with  His  fingers  and  pleads  hard 
For  its  old  heavy,  dull,  and  shapeless  ease.'^ 

3.  "  He  drove  out  the  man  "  means  that  the  pleasantness,  and 
ease,  and  safety,  of  the  Garden  were  taken  from  him :  that  he  had 
forfeited,  and  was  made  to  feel  he  had  forfeited,  the  delightful 
sense  of  a  constant  nearness  to  God,  and  of  imrestrained  inter- 
coiirse  with  Him ;  that  he  had  to  go  out  into  the  comparative 
desolation  of  the  common  unblessed  world  to  fight  for  his  own 
hand,  and  to  make  the  best  he  could  of  things.  Well,  of  course 
everybody  knows  that  this  was,  in  a  very  true  sense,  the  best 
thing  that  could  have  happened  to  him,  since  he  fell.  Mankind 
has  risen  slowly  to  its  present  state  of  power  and  progress  just 
because  it  had  to  fight  its  way  up  against  a  multitude  of 
difficulties  and  obstacles,  which  gradually  called  out  and  educated 
its  powers  and  faculties  of  body  and  of  mind.  The  struggle  with 
wild  beasts ;  the  struggle  with  harsh  climates  and  unkindly  soils ; 
the  struggle  with  what  seemed  the  inveterate  hostility,  or  the 
incurable  caprice,  of  nature:  these  and  such-like  things  have 
made  man  what  he  is  in  position  and  resource.  Go  the  world 
»  W.  Boyd  Carpenter.  '  W.  B.  Yeata. 


GENESIS  III.  24  117 

over,  and  you  will  find  that  exactly  those  races  which  might  seem 
to  have  been  most  effectually  "  driven  out,"  and  left  furthest  ofif 
from  the  earthly  paradise,  have  been  the  races  which  have  attained 
the  highest  civilization. 

^  It  is  remarkable  that  in  so  many  great  wars  it  is  the 
defeated  who  have  won.  The  people  who  were  left  worst  at  the 
end  of  the  war  were  generally  the  people  who  were  left  best  at 
the  end  of  the  whole  business.  For  instance,  the  Crusades  ended 
in  the  defeat  of  the  Christians.  But  they  did  not  end  in  the 
decline  of  the  Christians;  they  ended  in  the  decline  of  the 
Saracens,  That  huge  prophetic  wave  of  Moslem  power  which 
had  hung  in  the  very  heavens  above  the  towns  of  Christendom : 
that  wave  was  broken,  and  never  came  on  again.  The  Crusades 
had  saved  Paris  in  the  act  of  losing  Jerusalem.  The  same 
applies  to  that  epic  of  Republican  war  in  the  eighteenth 
century  to  which  we  Liberals  owe  our  political  creed.  The 
French  Revolution  ended  in  defeat ;  the  kings  came  back  across 
a  carpet  of  dead  at  Waterloo.  The  Revolution  had  lost  its  last 
battle,  but  it  had  gained  its  first  object.  It  had  cut  a  chasm. 
The  world  has  never  been  the  same  since.^ 

4.  What  was  the  occasion  of  the  expulsion  ?  The  blessing  of 
the  Divine  Presence  was  conditional  upon  obedience  to  the 
Divine  wUl.  Paradise  was  forfeited  by  the  preference  of  selfish 
appetites  over  the  command  of  God.  The  expulsion  from 
Paradise  was  the  inevitable  consequence  of  sin  ;  the  desire  of  man 
for  the  lower  life  was  granted.  He  who  asserted  his  own  against 
the  Divine  will  had  no  place  in  the  Paradise  of  God. 

Take  the  meanest  and  most  sordid  face  that  passes  you,  the 
face  most  brutalized  by  vice,  most  pinched  and  strained  by 
business; — that  man  has  his  tree  of  life,  his  own  separate 
possibility  of  being,  luxuriant  and  vital,  fresh,  free,  original. 
"  How  terribly  he  has  missed  it,"  you  say.  Indeed  he  has.  A 
poor,  misguided  thing  he  is,  as  wretched  as  poor  Adam  when  he 
had  been  driven  from  his  tree  of  life,  and  stood  naked  and 
shivering  outside  the  Garden,  with  the  beasts  that  used  to  be  his 
subjects  snarling  at  him,  and  the  ground  beginning  to  mock  him 
with  its  thorns  and  thistles.  That  poor  man  evidently  has  been 
cast  out  of  his  garden,  and  has  lost  his  tree  of  life.  And  is  it  not 
evident  enough  how  he  lost  it  ?     Must  it  not  have  been  that  he 

*  O,  K.  Chesterton,  Tremendous  Trijlet. 


ii8  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

was  wilful  ?  Must  it  not  have  been  that,  at  the  very  beginning, 
he  had  no  idea  but  for  himself,  no  notion  of  living  in  obedience  to 
God? 

^  What  makes  the  scholar's  life  a  failure  ?  What  makes  him 
sigh  when  at  last  the  books  grow  dim  before  his  eyes,  and  the 
treacherous  memory  begins  to  break  and  lose  the  treasures  it  has 
held  ?  He  has  been  studying  for  himself,  wilfully,  not  humbly, 
taking  the  fruit  from  the  tree  of  knowledge.  What  makes  the 
workman  turn  into  a  machine  ?  What  makes  us  feel  so  often, 
the  more  his  special  skill  develops,  that  he  is  growing  less  and 
not  more  a  man  ?  What  shuts  the  merchant  up  to  his  drudgery, 
making  it  absolutely  ridiculous  and  blasphemous  to  say  of  him, 
as  we  watch  the  way  he  lives  and  the  things  he  does  from  the 
time  he  rises  till  the  time  he  goes  to  bed, "  That  is  what  God  made 
that  man  for  "  ?  What  makes  every  one  of  us  sigh  when  we  think 
what  we  might  have  been  ?  Why  is  every  one  of  us  missing  his 
highest  ?  Why  are  we  all  shut  out  from  our  trees  of  life  ?  There 
is  one  word,  one  universal  word,  that  tells  the  sad  story  for  us 
all.  It  is  selfishness — selfishness  from  the  beginning.  If  we  had 
not  been  selfish,  if  we  had  lived  for  God  from  the  beginning,  if 
we  had  been  consecrated,  we  know  it  would  have  been  different ; 
we  should  have  had  our  Eden  inside  and  not  outside  ;  we  should 
have  eaten  in  God's  due  time  of  our  tree  of  life ;  and  have  come 
to  what  He  made  us  for, — our  fullest  and  our  best  life.^ 


II. 

The  Guardians  of  thb  Trek  of  Life. 

Adam  and  Eve  being  driven  out  from  the  tree  of  life,  who 
were  the  guards  that  stood  to  hinder  their  return  ?  Cherubim, 
and  a  flaming  sword  which  turned  every  way. 

i.  The  Cherubim. 

1.  The  essential  idea  of  the  Cherubim  seems  to  have  been  that 
they  represented  the  forces  of  nature  as  the  servants  of  God. 
"  The  Lord  sitteth  between  the  cherubims,  be  the  earth  never  so 
unquiet,"  says  David,  and  in  another  psalm,  "He  rode  upon  a 
cherub,  and  did  fly."  These  forces  of  nature,  these  things  of  the 
world  about  us,  these  objects  and  circumstances,  made  by  God 

1  Phillips  Brooks. 


GENESIS  III.  24  119 

to  assist  iu  the  pleasure  and  culture  of  mankind, — these  same 
things  are  they  which,  when  man  is  rebellious  and  selfish,  stand 
between  him  and  his  fullest  life.  Those  objects  and  circumstances 
which,  if  a  man  were  docile  and  humble,  and  lived  his  life  with 
and  under  God,  would  all  be  developing  and  perfecting  him, 
making  him  stronger,  making  him  happier, — all  those  things, 
just  as  soon  as  a  man  cuts  himself  off  from  God  and  insists 
on  getting  knowledge  and  doing  work  by  himself,  become  his 
enemies.  They  hinder  him  instead  of  helping  him ;  they  are 
always  pulling  him  down  instead  of  lifting  him  up ;  making  him 
a  worse  and  smaller  instead  of  a  better  and  larger  man. 

2.  In  the  symbolism  of  Scripture  the  Cherubim  are  every- 
where the  "  supporters  "  of  the  Divine  Majesty.  For  this  reason 
they  are  admitted  into  the  Tabernacle  and  the  Temple  in  the 
very  teeth  of  the  second  commandment ;  two  veritable  and  un- 
deniable "  graven  images  "  (of  Cherubim)  spread  their  wings  over 
the  Mercy  Seat  on  which  the  Divine  Glory  was  believed  to  appear. 
For  this  reason  the  Chariot  of  God  in  Ezekiel  is  composed  of 
Cherubim,  and  in  the  Apocalypse  the  same  symbolic  beings  (under 
the  name  of  "  the  four  living  creatures  ")  are  seen  "  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne,  and  round  about  the  throne."  They  belong  in 
some  way  to  the  Presence  of  God :  they  mean  that  He  is  there, 
very  really  and  truly.  Secondly,  they  represent  also  nature  in 
her  manifold  forms  and  types.  The  graven  images  in  Tabernacle 
and  Temple  were  evidently  composite  creature-forms,  something 
like  those  so  common  in  Assyria.  They  resemble  no  one  type  of 
creature  life,  but  several  blended  together  so  as  to  suggest  them 
all.  The  Cherubim  of  Ezekiel's  vision  and  the  living  creatures 
of  the  Apocalypse  are  essentially  the  same.  The  sin  and  degrada- 
tion of  the  old  world  was  creature- worship ;  therefore,  in  the 
sacred  writings,  Jewish  or  Christian,  the  symbolic  representatives 
of  all  nature,  in  all  her  types  and  kinds,  are  made  the  supporters 
of  His  Throne  who  is  eternally  above  nature,  who  manifests 
Himself  for  ever  through  nature.  There  is  a  tremendous  truth 
in  that;  the  only  right  place,  the  only  safe  place,  for  the 
Cherubim — for  nature — for  natural  science — is  in  immediate 
connection  with,  in  immediate  subordination  to,  the  One  living 
and  true  God.     It  is  the  place  of  honour ;  it  is  the  place  of  safety. 


I20  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

Bring  the  Cherubim  out  of  the  Temple  and  away  from  God; 
instantly  they  become  monuments  of  idolatry,  which  the  servants 
of  the  Most  High  must  break  and  burn.  Let  them  remain  Hit 
supporters  and  His  Throne ;  they  are  glorified  and  we  are  safe. 

3.  The  Cherubim  at  the  entrance  to  forfeited  and  forbidden 
Paradise  meant  that  God's  presence  was  there,  that  God  Himself 
barred  the  way:  God  who  fulfils  Himself  in  nature,  who  rules 
and  reigns  in  and  through  the  laws  of  nature.  Is  there  any 
riddle  there  ?  Does  it  not  explain  itself  ?  Is  it  not  obviously 
true  that  natural  law  eternally  forbids  our  getting  into  Paradise, 
and  that  we  have  no  power  to  evade  or  to  defy  that  law  ?  People 
may  be  as  lucky  or  as  successful  as  you  like ;  they  may  be  (as 
we  say)  the  spoilt  children  of  fortune;  they  may  have  every 
advantage  on  their  side ;  but  they  cannot  make  their  way  into 
the  garden  of  delight.  No  happiness  for  man  which  has  not  its 
drawbacks,  its  penalties ;  at  best,  its  tormenting  fear  of  loss ! 
That  is  not  a  pious  platitude ;  it  is  an  inexorable  law  of  nature, 
with  which  most  of  us  have  made  acquaintance  to  our  cost — and 
those  who  have  not,  will.  Nature  itself  bars  our  way  to  blips, 
the  bliss  we  cannot  but  desire :  and  nature  stands  for  God.^ 

If  you  should  meet  with  one  who  strays 

Beyond  the  walls  of  peace, 
Who  spends  the  passion  of  his  days 

In  dreams  that  never  cease, 
Oh,  tell  him  that  the  outcast  ways 
Find  no  release. 

If  you  should  look  into  his  eyes, 

And  see  the  shadow  there 
Of  his  dear  City's  towers  and  skies, 

Where  once  his  heart  lay  bare, 
Oh,  tell  him  those  who  are  most  wise 
Their  vision  spare. 

If  you  should  see  him  turn  and  wait. 

Fast  bound  by  his  desire, 
Beyond  the  walls  disconsolate. 

In  dreams  that  never  tire, 
Oh,  tell  him  that  the  City  gate 
Is  barred  by  fire, 

'  Bayner  Wintcrbotham. 


GENESIS  III.  24  121 

No  other  torches  shall  divide 

The  road  for  his  release, 
Oh,  tell  him  they  stretch  dark  and  wide, 

Long  roads  that  never  cease — 
If  you  should  meet  with  one  outside 
The  walls  of  peace.^ 

ii.  The  Flaming  Sword. 

There  is  something  else,  besides  the  Cherubim,  that  bars  the 
way:  something  more  subtle,  more  inexplicable,  more  versatile 
even,  and  even  more  formidable.  "  The  flame  of  a  sword  which 
turned  every  way."  See  how  the  words  themselves  irresistibly 
suggest  an  allegory.  Not  "  a  flaming  sword " ;  that  was  a  poor 
prosaic  watering  down  of  the  original;  but  "the  flame  of  a 
sword."  As  though  some  magic  sword  "  bathed  in  heaven,"  and 
wielded  by  some  invisible  angelic  virtue,  were  leaving  its  scorch 
and  radiance  upon  the  yielding  air  as  it  played  hither  and  thither 
with  the  velocity  of  lightning. 

1.  The  "flame  of  a  sword";  something  "living  and  active 
and  sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword  " ;  something  "  everywhere 
perceived,  but  nowhere  dwelt  upon,"  subtle,  inscrutable,  inex- 
plicable, but  meeting  one  at  every  turn,  and  hopelessly  barring 
approach  from  any  side — not  by  any  solid  obstacle,  but  by  the 
sense  of  dread;  dread  of  the  unknown  and  awfuL  What  does 
that  flame  of  a  sword  turning  every  way  stand  for  ?  Is  it  not  the 
sense  of  guilt  ?  the  conscience  of  sin  ?  which  is  so  subtle  and 
fleeting  and  intangible,  and  yet  keeps  a  man  out  of  the  Paradise 
of  peace  and  happiness  as  effectually  as  though  he  were  shut  up 
within  prison  bars. 

^  Try  to  get  into  Paradise !  try  to  be  perfectly  calm,  and 
happy,  and  at  rest !  try  to  return  to  the  Garden  where,  in  the 
cool  of  the  day,  you  may  hear  the  voice  of  God  the  Father  speak- 
ing to  you !  to  that  primal  state  of  which  your  heart  whispers  to 
you,  when  you  were  in  His  sight  naked  and  yet  unashamed. 
Forget  for  a  moment  the  unsurmountable  difficulties  which  nature 
has  placed  in  your  way — its  bereavements,  its  limitations,  its 
illusions — and  you  will  be  instantly  aware  of  this  subtler  and 
more  formidable  foe,  the  lambent  flame  which  plays  around  you 
and  through  you,  more  quick  and  incessant  than  the  lightning, 

»  Dollie  Radford. 


122  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

piercing  at  once  and  scorching,  a  force  which  you  cannot  seize  or 
grapple  with,  a  force  against  which  the  intellect  and  the  will  are 
alike  helpless,  the  subtle  irresistible  sense  of  sin  whereby  you  know 
and  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner,  that  you  are  out  of  harmony  with 
God,  that  you  can  be  at  peace  neither  with  Him  nor  without  Him, 
that  you  must  either  dwell  in  an  eternal  unrest  or  become  very 
different  from  what  you  are. 

2.  Are  there  people  who  have  no  sense  of  sin  ?  Very  likely. 
The  flame  of  a  sword  played  and  turned  at  the  gate  of  Paradise, 
at  the  east  of  the  garden  of  Eden.  "Whilst  you  are  ranging  about 
the  wilderness,  whilst  you  are  pressing  west  and  north  and  south, 
it  is  only  the  far-off  glare  and  glitter  of  the  sword  that  you  will 
see  at  times,  like  the  reflected  brilliance  from  the  electric  light- 
house which  leaps  upon  the  clouds  from  below  the  horizon.  It 
is  only  when  you  set  your  face  eastwards  and  homewards,  towards 
the  home  of  light  and  the  birthplace  of  the  dawn ;  only  when  with 
weary  heart  and  tired  thoughts  you  seek  for  peace  and  satisfaction 
where  alone  it  can  be  found ;  only  then  that  you  really  encounter 
the  sternness  of  the  brandished  flame. 

^  There  is  not  anything  more  subtle  and  unsubstantial  than 
the  sense  of  sinfulness.  If  you  try  to  set  it  down  in  black  and 
white,  if  you  try  to  fix  it  in  the  language  of  theology,  it  is  bound 
to  evade  you:  you  have  got  your  definition,  your  terminology, 
your  religious  phraseology,  but  your  sense  of  sin  has  vanished. 
You  prove  to  a  man  that  we  are  all  by  nature  children  of  wrath, 
that  the  Scripture  hath  concluded  us  all  under  sin,  that  all  have 
sinned  and  fallen  short,  that  there  is  none  righteous,  no,  not  one, 
that  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things  and  desperately  wicked, 
that  all  our  righteousnesses  are  as  filthy  rags.  What  is  the  use  ? 
The  man  you  address  assents,  or  dissents ;  but  in  either  case  he 
feels  nothing :  the  flame  of  the  sword  is  playing  in  some  other 
direction  at  that  moment.  You  cannot  fix  it;  you  cannot  say, 
"lo,  here,"  or  "lo,  there";  for  even  as  you  speak  it  is  gone. 
Nothing  is  more  clumsy,  more  ineffective,  more  useless,  than 
arguments  and  statements  about  the  sense  of  sin.  And  yet 
nothing  is  more  real,  more  inexorable,  more  impossible  to  over- 
Strange  powers  unused  like  poison  burn  in  me: 

Cruel  quicksilver  thro'  my  veins  they  creep. 
What  hour  will  bring  mine  infelicity 

Some  drowsy  cup  from  the  mild  founts  of  sleep  ? 

*  Rayner  Winteibotbam. 


GENESIS  III.  24  123 

Tired  sieges  of  high  castles  never  taken, 

Desires  like  great  king-falcons  never  cast, 
Beautiful  quests  all  wearily  forsaken, 

Figure  the  fiery  arras  of  the  Past, 
The  pale  Dreams  walk  on  the  horizons  grey: 

Like  stars  they  tread  the  dawn  with  flaming  feet: 
Their  eyes  for  evermore  are  turned  away. 

I  heard  their  silver  trumpets  once  entreat: — 
Low  sighed  the  caitiff  Voice:  "They  sound  in  vain. 

Let  them  go  by.    It  is  not  worth  the  Pain."^ 


IIL 

The  Kecovery  of  the  Tses  of  Life. 

Although,  by  reason  of  his  transgression,  man  was  driven  out 
of  Paradise,  and  debarred  from  access  to  the  tree  of  life,  he  was 
not  to  be  for  ever  excluded  from  the  one  or  the  other.  Both  are 
reserved  in  safe  keeping  until  the  time  of  the  end,  and  in  the 
restored  Paradise  the  faithful  shall  "  eat  of  the  tree  of  life,  which 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of  God "  (Rev.  ii  7),  and  "  the 
leaves  of  the  tree  shall  be  for  the  healing  of  the  nations" 
(Rev.  xxii.  2). 

1.  Man  la  driven  out  of  the  garden  where  it  stands,  but 
immediately  the  education  begins  which,  if  he  will  submit  to  it,  is 
to  bring  him  back  at  last  to  the  Paradise  of  God  where  the  tree 
of  life  will  be  restored  to  him.  And  all  the  training  that  comes 
in  between  is  of  one  sort.  Everything  from  Genesis  to  Revelation 
has  one  purpose, — to  teach  man  the  hopelessness,  the  folly,  the 
unsatisfactoriness,  of  a  merely  wilful  and  selfish  life ;  to  bring 
men  by  every  discipline  of  sorrow  or  joy  to  see  the  nobleness  and 
fruitfulness  of  obedience  and  consecration.  When  that  is  learned, 
then  the  lost  tree  reappears.  Hidden  through  all  the  lingering 
centuries,  there  it  is,  when  man  is  ready  for  it,  blooming  in  the 
Paradise  of  God. 

2.  If  man  is  to  take  of  the  tree  of  life  he  can  take  of  it 
only  by  facing  the  flaming  sword  which  guards  its  place.  If 
man  is  to  eat  of  the  produce  of  the  ground  he  is  no  longer  to 
eat  it  as  it  springs  forth  of  itself,  but  thorns  and  thistles  are 

^  Rachel  Anuand  Taylor. 


124  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

springing  out  of  the  ground  at  the  same  time,  and  in  the  sweat 
of  his  brow  he  is  to  take  the  fair  and  necessary  fruits  of  the  earth. 
The  fruits  of  the  earth  are  no  less  desirable  and  necessary  than 
before,  but  now  they  are  to  be  taken  under  a  new  condition.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  tree  of  life ;  it  is  still  as  desirable  as  ever. 
Man  may  still  dream  of  the  joy  and  the  glory  of  partaking  of  that 
tree  of  life ;  indeed  he  does  so.  If  you  turn  to  the  other  books  of 
the  Bible  you  will  find  that  more  than  once  the  dream  of  that 
tree  of  life  rises  as  a  fair  vision  before  the*  eyes  of  man.  When 
the  wise  man  would  speak  of  the  highest  benefit  which  can  be 
conferred  upon  man,  even  the  participation  of  the  quality  and  the 
power  of  wisdom,  he  says,  "  She  is  a  tree  of  life  to  them  that  lay 
hold  upon  her."  The  tree  of  life  is  as  desirable  for  men  as  ever  it 
was,  but  it  can  no  longer  be  taken  under  the  old  conditions  of 
ease.  Now  man  must  face  danger  in  order  to  win  it.  Now  it 
must  be  purchased  at  the  risk  of  life.  If  man  is  to  take  the 
tree  of  life  he  must  front  the  sword  which  turns  every  way  to 
safeguard  it  from  those  who  would  approach. 

*[f  It  is  interesting  and  stimulating  to  observe  how  the  Bible 
begins  and  ends  with  this  figure  of  the  tree  of  life.  It  has  a 
prominent  place  in  the  first  book,  and  it  has  a  prominent  place  in 
the  last  book.  And  the  whole  of  the  intervening  story,  although 
the  tree  is  not  named,  is  one  long  commentary  upon  the  text,  one 
long  dramatic  exposition  of  the  principle. 

(1)  You  see  the  children  of  Israel  led  by  the  visible  presence 
of  Moses,  and  guided  by  the  invisible  hand  of  God,  marching  out 
of  Egypt,  and  following  a  devious,  perplexed,  and  harassed  way 
through  the  wilderness  towards  Canaan.  What  are  they  doing  ? 
They  are  marching  up  the  path  against  the  flaming  sword  and  the 
cherubim  that  they  may  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life. 

(2)  You  see  the  minority  in  Israel  who  are  faithful  to 
Jehovah,  sensitive  to  His  dignity,  loyal  to  His  control ;  a  minority 
whose  attitude,  alike  towards  the  sin  of  the  people  and  towards 
the  great  national  ideals  and  hopes,  is  expressed  over  and  over 
again  in  the  words  of  the  prophets;  you  see  them  there,  de- 
nouncing wickedness,  protesting  might  and  main  against  idolatry, 
suffering  persecution ;  in  the  time  when  enemies  are  threatening 
the  nation  with  destruction,  calling  the  people  to  repentance, 
summoning  up  their  courage,  leading  them  against  the  foe, 
steadying  them  on  God,  and  amid  disaster  and  catastrophe 
keeping  the  torch  of  hope  aflame ;  enduring  all  the  pain  and  the 
shame  of  exile,  and  amid  the  allurements  of  foreign  faiths  and 


GENESIS  III.  24  125 

worship  keeping  firm  their  belief  in  Jehovah,  and  their  hearts 
pure  before  Him,  in  order  that  still,  even  at  the  last  hour,  Israel 
may  be  preserved,  and  restored  to  its  own ;  and  what  are  these 
doing  ?  They  are  pressing  up  against  the  sword  and  the  cherubim 
that  keep  the  way  to  the  tree  of  life,  that  the  nation  may  eat 
thereof  and  live. 

(3)  You  see  Jesus ;  you  follow  His  footsteps,  and  watch  His 
way ;  you  see  Him  tempted  in  the  Wilderness ;  you  see  Him 
harassed  and  opposed  by  Scribes  and  Pharisees;  you  see  the 
Herodians  intriguing  against  Him;  you  see  Him  unrecognized 
and  unsupported  by  His  own  people;  you  see  Him  laying 
upon  His  heart  the  sorrows  and  the  burdens  of  the  multitude ; 
you  see  Him  patient  under  persecution,  faithful  to  the  truth 
against  opposition,  obedient  to  the  Higher  Will  even  unto  death ; 
you  see  Him  moving  solitary  and  alone  because  of  the  miscon- 
ceptions and  the  misunderstandings  of  His  followers;  you  see 
Him  pass  within  the  deep  shadow  of  Gethsemane,  and  then, 
utterly  forsaken,  ascending  the  way  of  sorrow,  bearing  His  cross 
to  the  place  of  death ;  and  what  is  He  doing  ?  He  is  moving 
upwards  against  the  flaming  sword  and  the  Cherubim  that  He 
may  win  to  the  tree  of  life;  and  this  not  for  Himself  aloue,  but 
for  us;  that  we  might  know  how  to  come  off  conquerors,  that 
we  might  know  that  there  is  a  way  to  rise  and  to  arrive,  that 
we  might  have  life  in  Him  : 

And  in  the  garden  secretly, 

And  on  the  cross  on  high, 
Might  teach  His  brethren,  and  inspire 

To  suffer  and  to  die. 

(4)  And  then  you  watch  the  early  beginnings  of  the  Christian 
Church ;  you  see  Peter  boldly  standing  up  in  Jerusalem  to  preach 
the  new  faith,  and  to  declare  the  glad  tidings;  you  see  Paul, 
himself  a  persecutor,  suffering  persecution  for  the  Cross  of  Christ ; 
you  see  him  at  the  risk  of  offending  his  fellow-apostles,  crossing 
the  boundaries  of  Judaism,  and  carrying  the  gospel  to  the 
Gentiles  throughout  Asia  Minor  and  into  Europe;  and  always 
against  resistance,  always  in  the  teeth  of  opposition ;  always  amid 
great  difficulties,  and  with  infinite  labour;  and  you  see  the 
Churches,  set  as  a  light  in  the  midst  of  the  people,  treasuring  the 
sacred  deposit  of  the  faith  against  the  threatenings  of  heathen 
idolatry,  and  heathen  philosophy,  and  their  own  weakness, 
mistakes,  and  infidelity ;  and  always  trying  amid  bafflements,  and 
always  fighting  amid  seeming  failure,  and  always  aspiring ;  and 


126  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

these,  what  are  they  doing  ?  They  too  are  on  the  pathway  that 
leads  to  the  tree  of  life,  and  they  are  measuring  themselves,  to 
the  top  of  their  power,  against  the  sword  and  against  the  guardian 
Cherubim.^ 

1  The  benefactors  of  men  have  always  been  compelled  to 
confront  that  sword.  In  the  smallest  thing  it  is  true.  The  man 
who  makes  a  new  discovery,  the  man  who  has  invented  something 
which  will  be  a  benefit  to  his  fellow-men — how  truly  has  he  to 
encounter  the  sword  and  the  flame  of  criticism.  The  sword 
and  the  flame  distress  all  his  fellows.  Why  does  Koger  Bacon 
fly  for  his  life  except  that  an  ignorant  public  cannot  understand 
the  benefits  that  he  is  prepared  to  confer  upon  them  ?  Why 
should  men  like  Galileo  be  put  to  shame,  but  that  the  world 
stands  with  its  sword  and  says,  "We  refuse  to  let  you  confer 
these  blessings  unless  you  pass  the  sword  which  we  hold  in 
the  way  of  all "  ?  There  is  the  one  profound  illustration  of  all. 
When  eager,  ambitious  souls  that  saw  things  only  after  a  worldly 
fashion  were  ready  to  come  and  take  Him  by  force  and  make 
Him  a  king,  He  stood  amongst  His  disciples  and  said,  "  The  crown, 
that  is,  the  power  of  conferring  benefit  upon  men — the  crown, 
that  is,  the  capacity  of  helping  My  brother  man,  can  be  won  only 
through  the  Cross."' 

3.  So  true  is  the  beginning  of  the  Bible  to  our  continual  life. 
So  in  our  own  experience  we  find  the  everlasting  warrant  of  that 
much-disputed  tale  of  Genesis.  But,  thank  God,  the  end  of  the 
Bible  is  just  as  true.  As  true  as  this  universal  fact  of  all  men's 
failure  is  the  other  fact,  that  no  man's  failure  is  final  or  necessarily 
fatal ;  that  every  man's  lost  tree  of  life  is  kept  by  God,  and  that 
he  may  find  it  again  in  God's  Paradise  if  he  comes  there  in 
humble  consecration. 

IF  Let  us  put  figures  and  allegories  aside  for  a  moment.  The 
truth  of  Christianity  is  this :  that  however  a  man  has  failed  by 
his  selfishness  of  the  fulness  of  life  for  which  God  made  him 
the  moment  that,  led  by  the  love  of  Christ,  he  casts  his  selfishness 
aside  and  consecrates  himself  to  God,  that  lost  possibility  re- 
appears ;  he  begins  to  realize  and  attempt  again  in  hope  the 
highest  idea  of  his  life  :  the  faded  colours  brighten ;  the  crowding 
walls  open  and  disappear.  This  is  the  deepest,  noblest  Christian 
consciousness.  Very  far  off,  very  dimly  seen  as  yet,  hoped-for 
not  by  any  struggle  of  its  own  but  by  the  gift  of  the  Mercy  and 
Power  to  which  it  is  now  given,  the  soul  that  is  in  God  believes 
*  £.  W.  Lewii.  "  W.  Boyd  Carpenter. 


GENESIS  HI.  24  127 

in  its  own  perfectibility,  and  dares  to  set  itself  perfection  as  the 
mark  of  life,  short  of  which  it  cannot  rest  satisfied. 

And  when  this  change  has  come,  when  a  soul  has  dared  again 
to  realize  and  desire  the  hf e  for  which  God  made  it,  then  also  comes 
the  other  change.  The  hindrances  change  back  again  to  their 
true  purpose  and  are  once  more  the  helpers.  That,  too,  is  a  most 
noble  part  of  the  Christian's  experience,  and  one  which  every 
Christian  recognizes.  You  prayed  to  God  when  you  became  His 
servant  that  He  would  take  your  enemies  away,  that  He  would 
free  you  from  those  circumstances  which  had  hindered  you  from 
living  a  good  life.  But  He  did  something  better  than  what  you 
prayed  for.  As  you  looked  at  your  old  enemies  they  did  not 
disappear,  but  their  old  faces  altered.  You  saw  them  still,  but 
you  saw  them  now  changed  into  His  servants.  The  business  that 
had  made  you  worldly  stretched  out  new  hands,  all  heavy  with 
the  gifts  of  charity.  The  nature  which  had  stood  like  a  wall 
between  you  and  the  truth  of  a  Personal  Creator  opened  now  a 
hundred  voices  all  declaring  Him.  The  men  who  had  tempted 
you  to  pride  and  passion,  all  came  with  their  opportimities  of 
humility  and  patience.  Everything  was  altered  when  you  were 
altered.  The  Cherubim  had  left  their  hostile  guard  above  the 
gate,  and  now  stood  inviting  you  to  let  them  lead  you  to  the  tree 
of  life.  This  is  the  Fall  supplanted  by  the  Redemption.  This 
completes  the  whole  Bible  of  a  human  life.^ 

The  Tree  of  Life  in  Eden  stood 
With  mystic  Fruits  of  Heavenly  Food, 

Which  endless  life  afford, — 
That  life,  by  man's  transgression  lost: — 
Cast  out  is  man  by  Angel-host: 

Until  by  Man  restored. 

In  vain  the  lambs  poured  forth  their  blood ; 
In  vain  the  smoking  altars  stood; 

All  unatoned  was  sin: 
Must  greater  be  the  sacrifice 
Before  the  gate  of  Paradise 

Can  let  the  fallen  in  ? 

The  Lord  of  Life  His  Life  must  give 
That  man  an  endless  Life  may  live. 

And  death's  dark  doom  reverse. 
The  Cross  is  made  the  mystic  Tree, 
The  Blood  that  flowed  on  Calvary 

Hath  washed  away  the  curse. 

» Phillipa  Broota. 


128  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE 

Now  Eden's  gate  is  ope'd  once  more; 
The  guardian  Angel's  watch  is  o'er, 

And  sheathed  the  flaming  sword: 
The  Tree  of  Life  now  blooms  afresh, 
Its  precious  Fruit  the  very  Flesh 

Of  the  Incarnate  Word.^ 

^  Edwin  L.  Blenkinsopp 


Aw  I  MY  Brother's  Keeper? 


GEN.-NUM. — 9 


Literature. 

Aitchison  (J.),  The  Children's  Ovm,  271. 

Assheton  (R,  0.),  The  Kingdom  and  the  Empire,  61 

Brooks  (P.),  The  Law  of  Growth,  116. 

Darlow  (T.  H.),  The  Upward  Galling,  288. 

Goodwin  (H.),  PaHsh  Sermons,  4th  Ser.,  272.  ^ 

Ingram  (W.  C),  Happiness  in  the  Spiritual  Life,  228. 

McClure  (J.  G.  K.),  Loyalty  the  Soul  of  Religion,  71. 

Miller  (J.),  Sermons,  Literary  and  Scientific,  1st  Ser.,  202. 

Peabody  (F.  G.),  Mornings  in  the  Gollege  Chapel,  2nd  Ser.,  123. 

Robinson  (F.),  Gollege  and  Ordination  Addresses,  62. 

Sinclair  (W.  M.),  Christ  and  Our  Times,  297. 

Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  xxiv.  No.  1399. 

Thomson  (W.),  Life  in  the  Light  of  God's  Word,  200. 

Vaughan  (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  xxi.  No.  1199. 

Walters  (C.  E.),  The  Deserted  Christ,  139. 

Christian  World  Pulpit,  xlviii.  280  (Pearse). 

Church  of  England  Pulpit,  xlvi.  265  (Henson). 

Church  Pulpit  Year  Book,  vi.  265  (Waters). 

Churchmanship  and  Labour,  31  (Russell). 

CorUemporary  Pulpit,  Ist  Ser.,  ix.  354  (Dale). 

Lombard  Street  in  Lent,  28  (Farrar). 

Oxford  University  Sermons,  351  (Percival). 


»!• 


Am  I  MT  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  Cain,  Where  is  Abel  thy  brother?    And  he 
said,  I  know  not :  am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ? — Gen.  iv.  9. 

Matthew  Arnold  was  never  tired  of  reminding  us  that  while  we 
go  back  to  the  ancient  Greeks  for  lessons  in  art  and  beauty  and 
culture,  we  must  go  to  the  Hebrews  for  instruction  in  religion 
and  conduct.  Every  one  now  agrees  that  he  was  right.  We  feel 
that  the  Hebrew  people  had  a  genius  for  religion.  We  can  trace 
it  all  through  their  literature.  Whatever  be  the  subjeot-matter 
— whether  it  be  poetry,  history,  philosophy,  legend  or  imaginative 
prose — when  touched  by  the  Hebrew  genius  it  is  charged  with  a 
passion  for  righteousness,  and  becomes  a  vehicle  for  lessons  con- 
cerning ethics  and  religion  which  are  the  permanent  heritage  of 
the  race.  Gradually  as  the  people  developed  and  became  self- 
conscious,  the  best  of  them  felt  that  this  national  genius  was  not 
theirs  by  accident,  but  that  they  had  as  it  were  a  mission  for  the 
world — to  teach  men  to  know  God.  And  they  looked  forward  to 
the  day  when  the  earth  should  be  full  of  the  knowledge  of  Jehovah 
as  the  waters  cover  the  sea.  The  topic  before  us  is  instinct  with 
such  religious  instruction. 

Take  a  glance  at  the  picture.  Abel  lay  on  the  green  grass, 
and  earth's  innocent  flowers  shuddered  under  the  dew  of  blood. 
"  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Cain,  Where  is  Abel  thy  brother  ?  And 
he  said " — for  the  first  murderer  is  also  the  first  liar — "  I  know 
not ; "  and  he  insolently  added — for  the  first  murderer  is  also  the 
first  egotist — "  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ? "  But  the  Lord  sweeps 
aside  the  daring  falsehood,  the  callous  question.  "  And  he  said. 
What  hast  thou  done  ?  The  voice  of  thy  brother's  blood  crieth 
unto  me  from  the  ground.  And  now  thou  art  cursed."  And 
Cain  fled  to  the  land  of  his  exile,  with  the  brand  of  heaven's  wrath 
on  his  soul,  and  on  his  brow. 

The  lesson  which  the  Old   Testament  narrative  teaches  is, 


132       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

obviously,  the  sin  of  social  irresponsibility.  "We  may  conveniently 
approach  the  subject  from  the  positive  aspect — Respondhility,  and 
the  duties  which  it  involves — and  deal  with  it  in  three  parts : 

I.  The  Kesponsibility  of  every  Man  for  his  Brother. 
II.  The  Special  Kesponsibility  of  the  Christian. 
III.  The  Kesponsibility  of  the  Church.  ' 


L 

The  Kesponsibility  of  Man  for  Man. 

i.  God's  Question. 
"  The  Lord  said  unto  Cain,  Where  is  Abel  thy  brother  ?  " 

1.  This  is  not  G-od's  first  question,  for  He  had  already  ad- 
dressed to  Adam — as  to  the  representative  of  the  human  race — 
that  personal  inquiry  which  the  Holy  Spirit  still  brings  home  to 
every  heart  convicted  of  sin,  to  every  man  when  he  first  realizes 
that  he  is  naked  before  God  and  longs  to  hide  himself  from  Him : 
"  Where  art  thou  ? "  No  !  this  is  God's  second  question,  "  Where 
is  thy  brother  ? "  And  just  as  the  first  question  was  addressed 
to  man  upon  his  first  conviction  of  sin,  so  this  second  question  is 
addressed  to  man  after  his  first  struggle  with  his  fellow-man.  It 
is  asked  of  the  victor  concerning  the  vanquished  in  the  cruel 
competition  of  life,  "  Where  is  thy  brother  ? " 

2.  We  are  all  concerned  in  this  question.  Let  us  take  it  as 
addressed  to  ourselves  individually. 

(1)  First  of  all,  we  may  consider  the  question  so  far  as  it 
relates  to  all  those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  us ;  all  those  whose 
names  and  faces  are  familiar  to  us ;  all  those  who  are  connected 
with  us  by  the  bonds  of  kindred  or  affection ;  parents,  wife, 
husband,  children,  all  that  inner  circle  of  friends  and  relations, 
all  whom  we  acknowledge  to  have  been,  in  some  sense  or  other, 
committed  by  God  to  our  safe  keeping  and  care. 

IF  Tke  family  is  our  ideal  of  all  love  and  service.  Almost  all 
our  thoughts  of  affection  and  union  begin  and  associate  themselves 
with  the  family.  The  home, — the  hearth, — the  family  altar,— 
the  nursery, — the  early   childhood, — the  far-off  memories, — the 


GENESIS  IV.  9  133 

sister's  tenderness, — the  brother's  care,— the  mother, — the  father ; 
are  any  words  so  eloquent  to  the  heart  of  man?  The  family 
is  the  cradle  of  love. 

II  The  theme  of  Christina  Rossetti's  Gohlin  Market  is  a  sister's 
devotion,  and  if  we  want  a  picture  of  love  in  the  home  it  would 
be  difficult  to  find  a  more  simple  or  more  beautiful  one  than  that 
of  the  closing  lines  of  this  poem — 

Days,  weeks,  months,  years 
Afterwards,  when  both  were  wives 
With  children  of  their  own; 
Their  mother-hearts  beset  with  fears, 
Their  lives  bound  up  in  tender  lives; 
Laura  would  call  the  little  ones 
And  tell  them  of  her  early  prime, 
Those  pleasant  days  long  gone. 

Then  joining  hands  to  little  hands 
Would  bid  them  cling  together, — 
"For  there  is  no  friend  like  a  sister 
In  calm  or  stormy  weather; 
To  cheer  one  on  the  tedious  way, 
To  fetch  one  if  one  goes  astray, 
To  lift  one  if  one  totters  down, 
To  strengthen  whilst  one  stands." 

(2)  Responsibility,  however,  reaches  further  out  than  this. 
Responsibility  rests  upon  us,  in  some  way  or  other,  with  regard 
to  every  one  with  whom  we  are  brought  into  contact :  the  frienda 
and  acquaintances  of  our  life ;  all  those  with  whom  we  have 
business  relations ;  the  various  members  of  that  circle  of  society 
in  which  we  move;  our  more  casual  acquaintances;  the  fellow- 
travellers  we  meet  on  our  journeys — there  is  a  responsibility 
resting  upon  us  with  regard  to  them  all.  "  Where  is  thy  brother  ? " 
Where  is  he,  morally  and  spiritually,  so  far  as  the  influence, 
however  slight  it  may  have  been,  which  I  have  exercised  over 
him  goes  ?  To  have  laughed  at  the  evil  or  profane  joke ;  to  have 
spoken  the  thoughtless,  the  foolish,  or  the  angry  word ;  to  have 
exhibited  irritability  or  impatience — to  say  nothing  of  far  more 
grievous  stumbKng-blocks  than  these  —  must  have  had  some 
influence  over  others.  Who  is  there  that  has  not,  at  some  time 
or  other,  said  and  done  something  the  effect  of  which  was  evil 


134       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

on  some  one  else  ? — something  which  tended  to  deface  in  the 
soul  of  another  the  image  of  God ;  something  which  tended  to 
lead  that  soul  into  temptation,  if  not  into  sin.  What  marvellous 
opportunities  have  been  afforded  ua  in  life  of  helping  others  to 
resist  temptation,  and  to  stand  firm !  How  have  these  oppor- 
tunities been  used  ?  Have  we  used  them  at  all  ?  "  Where  is  thy 
brother  ? "     The  question  is  a  very  searching  one. 

^  To  an  Englishman  it  seems  a  matter  of  little  or  no  con- 
sequence who  his  neighbours  are,  and  if  he  be  a  resident  of  a 
city  he  may  occupy  a  dwelling  for  a  year  in  ignorance  even  of 
the  name  of  the  family  next  door.  But  in  China  it  is  otherwise. 
If  a  crime  takes  place  the  neighbours  are  held  guilty  of  something 
analogous  to  what  English  law  calls  "misprision  of  treason,"  in 
that  when  they  knew  of  a  criminal  intention  they  did  not 
report  it.  It  is  vain  to  reply,  "I  did  not  know."  You  are  a 
"  neighbour,"  and  therefore  you  must  have  known.  In  a  memorial 
published  in  the  Peking  Gazette  a  few  years  ago,  the  Governor  of 
one  of  the  central  provinces  reported  in  regard  to  a  case  of 
parricide  that  he  had  had  the  houses  of  all  the  neighbours  pulled 
down,  on  the  ground  of  their  gross  dereliction  of  duty  in  not 
exerting  a  good  moral  and  reformatory  influence  over  the  criminal ! 
Such  a  proceeding  would  probably  strike  an  average  Chinese  as 
eminently  reasonable.^ 

I  thought  in  my  own  secret  soul,  if  thus 

(By  the  strong  sympathy  that  knits  mankind) 

A  power  untried  exists  in  each  of  us. 

By  which  a  fellow-creature's  wavering  mind 

To  good  or  evil  deeds  may  be  inclined; 

Shall  not  an  awful  questioning  be  made: 

(And  we  perchance  no  fitting  answer  find:) 

Whom  bast  thou  sought  to  rescue  or  persuade? 

Whom  roused  from  sinful  sloth?  whom  comforted,  afraid?* 

ii.  Cain's  Answer. 
•*  I  know  not :  am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?  " 

1.  The  first  part  of  Cain's  answer,  "  I  know  not,"  was  a  lie, 
as  most  selfish  answers  are,  and  behind  the  lie  was  the  sin  of 
irresponsibility.  And  do  we  not  continually  betake  ourselves  to 
these  "  refuges  of  lies  "  in  the  bitter  hour  of  remorse,  in  the  dreary 

»  A.  H.  Smith,  Chinese  Characteristiei,  228.  *  Mrs.  Norton. 


GENESIS  IV.  9  135 

consoiousness  of  self-degrading  fault ?  "I  am  not  responsible ; 
this  tendency  to  evil,  intemperance,  gambling,  impurity,  is  the 
burden  of  heredity.  I  might  as  well  blame  myself  for  the  shape 
of  my  head  or  the  colour  of  my  eyes  as  for  the  inevitable  dis- 
positions which  determine  my  conduct.  I  am  not  responsible." 
And  all  the  while  we  are  proving  the  falseness  of  the  excuse  we 
urge.  Wfjy  the  need  to  urge  an  excuse  if,  indeed,  we  are  not 
responsible  ?  Did  we  ever  find  ourselves  compelled  to  seek  such 
excuse  for  the  shape  of  our  head  or  the  colour  of  our  eyes  ? 
Whence,  then,  this  necessity  here,  where  morality  is  in  question, 
when  our  own  behaviour  is  at  stake  ?  The  parallel,  in  truth, 
is  demonstrated  to  be  a  false  one  by  the  very  process  of  its 
assertion.  This  plea  of  necessity  is  but  a  "refuge  of  lies"  to 
which  the  guilty  fly;  for  "conscience  does  make  cowards  of 
us  all." 

2.  The  second  part  of  Cain's  answer,  "Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper?"  was  an  insult.  To  what  a  shameful  pitch  of  pre- 
sumptuous insolence  had  Cain  arrived  when  he  could  thus 
insult  the  Lord  God.  A  man  may  blaspheme  and  blaspheme 
frightfully,  but  it  is  usually  because  he  forgets  God,  and  ignores 
His  presence.  Cain,  however,  was  conscious  that  God  was 
speaking  to  him.  He  heard  Him  say,  "  Where  is  Abel  thy 
brother?"  and  yet  he  dared,  with  the  coolest  impertinence,  to 
reply  to  God,  "  I  know  not :  am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ? "  As 
much  as  to  say — "  Do  you  think  that  I  have  to  keep  him  as  he 
keeps  his  sheep?  Am  I  a  shepherd  as  he  was,  and  am  I  to 
take  as  much  care  of  him  as  he  did  of  a  lame  lamb  ? "  The 
cool  insolence  of  Cain  is  an  indication  of  the  state  of  heart 
which  led  up  to  his  murdering  his  brother;  and  it  was  also  a 
part  of  the  result  of  his  having  committed  that  terrible  crime. 
He  would  not  have  proceeded  to  the  cruel  deed  of  bloodshed  if 
he  had  not  first  cast  off  the  fear  of  God  and  been  ready  to  defy 
his  Maker.  Having  committed  murder,  the  hardening  influence 
of  sin  upon  Cain's  mind  must  have  been  intense,  and  so  at  last 
he  was  able  to  speak  out  to  God's  face  what  he  felt  within  his 
heart,  and  to  say,  "  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ? " 

3.  Thus,  first  with  a  lie,  and  then  with  an  insult,  Cain  replies 
to  God's  question.     But  the  question  is  not  a  negative  one,  and  it 


136       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

cannot  be  answered  negatively.  Men  often  urge  the  innocence  of 
their  conduct :  they  say,  they  are  sure  that  they  have  never  done 
any  one  any  harm.  The  excuse  is  a  salve  to  the  conscience  of 
careless  people,  who  are  using  their  lives  here  for  mere  pleasure 
and  frivolity.  Almost  all  such  persons  will  tell  you  that  they 
are  doing  no  harm ;  and  this  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  because 
every  one  who  does  what  is  foolish  and  shortsighted  must  have 
some  way  of  justifying  himself,  otherwise  he  would  hardly  act  in 
a  foolish  and  shortsighted  way ;  and  this  plea  that  he  is  doing  no 
one  any  harm  is  the  simplest  and  most  plausible  that  can  be  set 
up.  But  is  it  likely  to  be  true  that  a  man — even  the  best  of 
men — has  never  hurt  his  neighbour  by  word  or  deed  ?  Many 
men  think  so,  and  there  is  much  to  strengthen  them  in  their 
belief ;  it  is  the  commonest  thing  in  the  world  to  hear  the  most 
loose  and  ungodly  lives  excused  upon  this  plea,  that  such  an  one 
was  after  all  a  good  kind  of  man  and  never  did  any  one  any 
harm.  Look  closely  at  this  notion  of  doing  no  one  any  harm  and 
see  what  it  is  worth.  How  far  will  it  bear  examination  ?  Is  it  not 
really  a  repetition  of  the  old  excuse  of  Cain,  "  Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper  ? "  If  we  spend  all  our  time  taking  the  weeds  out  of 
our  garden,  we  shall  certainly  not  gather  any  flowers ;  so,  if  we 
never  get  beyond  the  principle  of  doing  no  harm  to  our  neighbour, 
it  is  just  as  certain  that  we  shall  do  him  no  good.  The  question 
is  a  positive  one,  and  in  some  way  or  other — each  man's  conscience 
knows  best  how — God  expects  from  each  one  of  us  the  positive 
answer,  /  am  my  brother's  keeper. 

^  The  chief  assertion  of  religious  morality  is  that  white  is  a 
colour.  Virtue  is  not  the  absence  of  vices  or  the  avoidance  of 
moral  dangers ;  virtue  is  a  vivid  and  separate  thing,  like  pain 
or  a  particular  smell.  Mercy  does  not  mean  not  being  cruel 
or  sparing  people  revenge  or  punishment :  it  means  a  plain  and 
positive  thing  like  the  sun,  which  one  has  either  seen  or  not  seen.^ 

IT  Cain  lives  to-day,  and  the  blood  of  Abel  still  cries  to 
God.  And  there  is  the  Cain  spirit  in  every  man  who  does  not 
accept  his  responsibility  for  his  brother;  living  it  out  honestly 
and  earnestly  in  everything  through  the  whole  seven  days  of  the 
week.  There  are  dead  men  and  women  and  children  crying  with 
an  awful  cry.  How  these  cries  go  up  to  God.  Men  who  go  far 
up  in  balloons  tell  us  that  they  reach  a  height  where  the  silence 

^  G.  K.  Chesterton,  Tremendous  Trifles, 


\ 


GENESIS  IV.  9  137 

is  intense,  deep,  oppressive — a  thing  that  can  be  felt.  The 
roll  of  the  city  is  all  unheard,  the  roar  of  the  sea,  the  hubbub 
of  our  busy  life — all  is  silenced.  But  startling  in  its  suddenness 
comes  sometimes  the  shrill  cry  of  a  child.  Ah !  the  things  that 
God  does  not  hear:  the  things  that  do  not  go  up  to  heaven — 
the  empty  prayers;  the  pretences  and  pride  of  us  men  and 
women  and  ten  thousand  other  things.  But  the  thousands  of 
girls — almost  every  one  of  them  having  to  tell  a  bitter  story  of 
betrayal,  an  anguish  of  shame,  a  hell  of  despair — their  cry  goes 
up  to  Heaven!  The  cry  of  the  downtrodden,  the  wronged  and 
injured,  the  overworked  and  underpaid.  Listen  to  the  words  of 
St.  James — "  Go  to  now,  ye  rich  men,  weep,  howl.  Your  gold  is 
cankered,  your  garments  are  moth-eaten.  Behold  the  hire  of 
the  labourers  who  have  reaped  your  fields  is  kept  back,  and  the 
cries  of  them  have  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of 
Sabaoth."! 

IF  Outside  the  Bible  no  one  has  interpreted  this  great 
principle  more  splendidly  than  Victor  Hugo  in  his  wonderful 
portrait  of  Jean  Valjean.  For  nineteen  years  the  State  held 
Jean  Valjean  between  its  palms  as  a  boy  holds  a  butterfly,  and 
when  the  palms  were  parted  there  had  been  no  change  of 
character.  For  nineteen  years  the  State  held  him  a  criminal  in 
the  galleys  as  a  boy  holds  the  humble-bee  in  the  sweet  cup  of  the 
hollyhock.  And  when  the  penitentiary  doors  opened  and  the 
State  parted  its  fingers,  and  the  criminal  buzzed  out  into  society 
again,  the  sting  was  as  sharp  and  the  poison  as  virulent  as  ever. 
The  reason  was  that  character  cannot  be  changed  by  outside 
pressure  alone.  Jean  Valjean  went  out  into  the  world  with  his 
heart  full  of  hate  and  bitterness,  and  in  that  spirit  he  came  to 
the  door  of  a  friend  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  good  bishop,  Hugo  tells 
us,  had  a  great  heart.  He  was  not  a  great  thinker.  He  felt  that 
the  world  was  suffering  from  a  cruel  disease.  He  felt  the  fever, 
he  heard  the  sobbing,  of  the  patient.  He  did  not  spend  his  time 
trying  to  find  out  how  sin  came,  nor  why ;  but  he  tried  to  help 
a  little.  So  he  opened  the  door  to  this  wicked  man  and  welcomed 
him.  While  the  bishop  slept  the  criminal  in  the  man  awoke, 
and  he  stole  the  silver  from  the  bishop's  house  and  escaped. 
The  next  morning  he  was  brought  back  again  by  the  police,  and 
the  bishop  saved  him  and  sent  the  police  away.  And  when  they 
were  gone  he  looked  into  the  poor,  astonished  man's  face,  and 
said,  "  Jean  Valjean,  my  brother !  I  have  bought  your  soul  from 
you.  I  have  drawn  it  from  black  thoughts  that  lead  to  perdition. 
I  have  given  it  to  goodness."    And  the  man,  redeemed  by  the 

1  M.  G.  Pears*. 


138       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

words,  "My  brother,"  by  the  quick  tear  of  sympathy,  by  the 
Christ  in  the  heart-throb  of  this  large-hearted  man,  went  out  to 
lead  a  new  life.     And  Jean  Valjean  became  Father  Madeleine.^ 

I  closed  my  hands  upon  a  moth, 
And  when  I  drew  my  palms  apart, 

Instead  of  dusty,  broken  wings, 
I  found  a  bleeding  human  heart. 

I  crushed  my  foot  upon  a  worm 
That  had  my  garden  for  its  goal, 

But  when  I  drew  my  foot  aside, 
I  found  a  dying  human  soul.* 

4.  For  every  man  therefore  the  question  is,  What  is  the  best 
thing  that  I  can  do  ?  Whether  in  the  city  or  in  the  country, 
I,  in  my  little  sphere,  with  my  limited  ability,  have  my  life  to 
live,  and  how  am  I  to  answer  God's  question  ?  Well,  if  we  live 
in  the  city ;  let  us  not  lose  ourselves  in  the  thought  of  its  vastness. 
The  great  world  of  London  is  so  apt  to  swallow  one  up,  to 
paralyze  one  with  a  sense  of  helplessness.  We  listen  to  its 
statistics,  and  they  appal  us  if  we  take  them  in,  which  most  of 
us  do  not.  Thank  God  for  the  men  who  have  problems  and 
theories  for  its  salvation,  but  they  are  and  must  be  subjects  of 
controversy.  The  one  thoroughly  good  thing  we  can  do  is  to  know 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  call  Him  Lord,  and  then,  looking  into 
His  face,  to  say.  Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me  to  do  ? 

1[  If  every  one  who  professes  to  care  about  the  poor  would 
make  himself  the  friend  of  one  poor  person,  there  would  soon  be 
no  insoluble  problem  of  "the  masses,"  and  London  would  be 
within  measurable  distance  of  becoming  a  city  of  happy  homes.* 

It  is  not  much 

To  give  a  gentle  word  or  kindly  touch 

To  one  gone  down 

Beneath  the  world's  cold  frown. 

And  yet — who  knows 

How  great  a  thing  from  such  a  little  grows? 

O,  oftentimes. 

Some  brother  upward  climbs, 

'  L.  A.  Bankg.  '  Dora  Sig«r8on  Shorter.  '  Canon  Bamett. 


GENESIS  IV.  9  139 

And  hope  again 

Uplifts  its  head,  that  in  the  dust  had  lain, 

And  sorrow's  night 

Gives  place  to  morning's  light. 

Because  of  hands 

Outstretched  to  help — a  heart  that  understands, 

And,  pitying, 

Counts  it  a  Ghristlike  thing — 

Not  to  despise 

The  fallen  one  who  at  the  wayside  lies — 

But,  for  His  sake, 

A  brother's  part  to  take.^ 


II. 

The  Special  Kesponsibility  of  the  Christian. 

1.  The  question,  Where  is  thy  brother  ?  comes  to  those  who 
follow  Christ,  not  only  as  it  comes  to  other  men,  but  also  with 
another  meaning,  a  meaning  which  enables  us  to  give  a  very 
blessed  answer  to  it.  Abel  was  a  type  of  Christ.  Abel's  sacrifice 
is  the  first  recorded  type  of  the  sacrifice  on  Calvary.  He  who 
died  on  the  cross  is  our  Brother.  As  we  hear  the  voice  of  God 
calling  to  us,  Where  is  thy  brother?  we  answer,  Here  is  our 
Brother,  crucified  for  sin,  buried,  risen,  ascended,  seated  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high,  ever  interceding  for  us.  It  is 
a  new  demand,  a  new  question. 

O  sweetest  Blood,  that  can  implore 
Pardon  of  God,  and  heaven  restore, 

The  heaven  which  sin  had  lost: 
While  Abel's  blood  for  vengeance  pleads, 
What  Jesus  shed  still  intercedes 

For  those  who  wrong  Him  most. 

2.  And  not  only  is  Jesus  the  Brother  about  whom  the  question 
is  asked  of  each  of  us,  Where  is  thy  brother  ?  but  in  Him  we  all 
are  brethren.  Again,  the  question  comes  with  a  new  meaning. 
"  A  new  commandment  I  give  unto  you,  that  ye  love  one  another." 
Accordingly  the  perfect  life  does  not  consist  in  the  cultivation  of 

»  E.  H.  Dirall,  A  Believer's  Best,  67. 


140       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

an  isolated  personal  perfection.  Christ  lived  in  God;  He  was 
detached  from  the  world,  He  spent  whole  nights  in  prayer ;  but 
the  account  of  Him  is  incomplete  until  we  add,  "  He  went  about 
doing  good."  "  He  came  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost."  "  As  I 
have  loved  you,"  He  said.  In  these  solitary  hours  which  He 
spent  in  communion  with  the  Father  He  renewed  the  fires  of  His 
love  for  men,  maintained  and  augmented  His  strength  for  serving 
them.  While  deepening  His  own  delight  in  the  Father's  love.  He 
added  intensity  to  His  passion  for  raising  the  most  miserable  of 
mankind  into  the  same  transcendent  blessedness.  And  so  the 
true  imitation  of  Christ  includes  not  only  the  discovery  of  the 
immeasurable  strength  which  a  devout  soul  may  find  in  God,  but 
the  actual  use  of  that  strength  for  the  service  of  mankind. 

IT  There  is  a  passage  which  I  dare  say  some  of  you  may 
remember  in  one  of  Cardinal  Newman's  sermons,  preached  and 
published  before  he  left  the  Anglican  Communion,  in  which  he 
presses  upon  his  hearers  with  all  his  characteristic  earnestness  the 
obligation  to  attempt  the  ideal  Christian  life.  He  asks,  "  Where 
should  we  find  that  ideal  Christian  life  ? "  and  he  answers :  "  In 
the  humble  monk  and  the  holy  nun,  in  those  who,  whether  they 
remain  in  seclusion  or  are  sent  over  the  earth,  have  calm  faces  and 
sweet  plaintive  voices,  and  spare  frames,  and  gentle  manners  and 
hearts  won  from  the  world  and  wills  subdued,  and  for  their  meek- 
ness meet  with  insult,  and  for  their  purity  with  slander,  and  for 
their  courtesy  with  suspicion,  and  for  their  courage  with  cruelty ; 
yet  they  find  Christ  everywhere,  Christ  their  all-sufficient 
portion,  to  make  up  to  them  both  here  and  hereafter  all  they 
suffer,  all  they  dare  for  His  name's  sake."  Now,  God  forbid  that 
I  should  withhold  sympathy  and  reverence  from  saintly  men  and 
women  who  in  evil  times  have  forsaken  the  world  in  order  to  find 
God.  No  doubt  among  those  who  have  taken  the  vows  of 
poverty,  celibacy,  and  obedience  there  have  been  many  who  took 
them  not  merely  to  make  sure  of  eternal  blessedness  for  them- 
selves, but  that  they  might  be  free  to  serve  others.  Honour,  all 
honour,  to  their  memory !  But  in  Dr.  Newman's  account  of  the 
men  and  women  who  have  maintained  the  Christian  tradition 
from  Apostolic  times  to  our  own,  the  passion  for  serving  and 
redeeming  man  receives  no  place.  By  prayer  and  fasting,  and 
poverty  and  severe  discipline,  they  have  overcome  temptation  to 
sin,  and  become  saints.  There  is  something  wanting  in  the 
picture.  A  few  years  ago  I  met  with  a  young  woman  earning 
eleven  or  twelve  shillings  a  week  in  a  Birmingham  warehouse, 


GENESIS  IV.  9  141 

who  had  been  filled  with  affectionate  pity  for  another  young 
woman,  a  member  of  my  church,  who  had  worked  with  her  and 
who,  through  illness,  had  lost  her  situation  and  her  wages. 
She  took  the  sick  girl  to  her  own  poor  lodging,  fed  her, 
nursed  her,  cared  for  her.  I  am  afraid  my  friend  had  not  the 
gentle  manners  and  the  sweet  plaintive  voice  of  Dr.  Newman's 
charming  picture.  But  that  seems  to  me  the  true  imitation  of 
Christ.! 

H  I  remember,  too,  another  young  woman  who  came  to  me  in 
great  trouble,  and  told  me  that  her  father  was  drunk  two  or  three 
times  a  week,  that  he  insisted  on  having  a  large  part  of  her 
earnings  to  spend  it  in  drink,  and  that  when  he  came  home  at 
night  with  drink  in  him  he  often  beat  her;  life  was  becoming 
intolerable  to  her.  She  wanted  to  know  whether  it  would  be 
right  for  her  to  leave  him.  Her  mother  was  dead ;  her  father,  if 
she  left  him,  would  be  alone ;  was  it  her  duty  to  stay  ?  I  told 
her  that  in  my  judgment  his  treatment  of  her  had  released  her 
from  the  obligation,  but  I  asked  her  whether  it  would  be  possible 
for  her  to  be  happy  at  night  if  she  went  elsewhere,  whether  she 
would  not  be  always  thinking  that  in  his  drunken  fits  her  father 
might  come  to  harm,  and  whether  she  could  not  regard  the  care 
of  this  unhappy  man,  with  all  the  suffering  and  misery  it  brought 
upon  her,  as  the  special  service  to  which  Christ  had  appointed 
her.  She  looked  up,  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  I 
will"  I  do  not  think  she  would  have  made  a  good  model  for 
an  artist  painting  a  saint.  She  did  not  live  in  a  picturesque 
convent,  but  in  a  back  court  in  Birmingham.  Her  dress  was 
not  picturesque,  but  the  somewhat  unlovely  dress  of  a  poor 
working  girl  Yet  that  seems  to  me  to  be  the  true  imitation  of 
Christ.  Let  me  finish  the  story.  She  came  to  me  three  months 
later,  and  told  me,  with  the  light  of  joy  on  her  face,  that  her 
father  had  never  come  home  drunk  since  that  night  she  had 
resolved  to  care  for  him  for  Christ's  sake.* 

How  many  souls  of  strongest  powers 

To  selfish  solitude  consigned, 
Have  whiled  in  idleness  their  hours, 

Nor  nobly  sought  to  serve  mankind! 

But  not  to  such  the  Muse  may  give 
Her  sacred  wreath,  the  Patriot's  pride  ! 

Since  for  themselves  content  to  live, 
So  for  themselves  alone  they  died. 

1  B.  W.  Dale.  «  Hid. 


142       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

Happy  the  man  who  for  his  God 
Has  left  the  world  and  all  its  ways, 

To  tread  the  path  the  saints  have  trod, 
And  spend  his  life  in  prayer  and  praise  I 

Unhappy,  who  himself  to  please 
Forsakes  the  path  where  duty  lies, 

Either  in  love  of  selfish  ease, 
Or  in  contempt  of  human  ties. 

In  vain  have  they  the  world  resigned 

Who  only  seek  an  earthly  rest; 
Nor  to  the  soul  that  spurns  mankind 

Can  ever  solitude  be  blest.^ 

3.  There  is  yet  another  encouragement  to  the  follower  of 
Christ  to  consider  his  brother,  and  it  is  a  most  wonderful  and 
gracious  one.  Whatever  service  he  renders  to  a  brother  he 
renders  to  Christ  Himself. 

I  bend  to  help  a  little  straying  child 

And  soothe  away  its  fears. 
When  lo !  the  Wondrous  Babe,  all  undefiled, 

Looks  at  me  through  its  tears. 

Beside  a  cot  I  kneel  with  pitying  eyes, 

A  dying  brow  I  fan — 
The  pallet  seems  a  cross  and  on  it  lies 

One  like  the  Son  of  Man  ! 

The  way  is  long,  and  when  I  pause  to  share 

My  cup,  my  crust  of  bread. 
With  some  poor  wanderer — oh,  vision  rare! — 

A  halo  crowns  his  head. 

O'er  sin's  dark  stream  there  comes  a  drowning  cry, 

Its  woeful  tide  I  stem 
And  grasp  for  one  who  sinks — the  Christ  is  there, 

I  touch  His  garment's  hem. 

O  Presence,  ever  new  and  ever  dear, 

My  Master,  can  it  be 
In  Thy  great  day  of  coming  I  shall  hear, 

"Thou  didst  it  unto  Me"? 

>  K  Caswall. 


GENESIS  IV.  9  143 

III. 

The  Chtjbch's  Eesponsibujtt. 

L  The  Corporate  Life  of  the  Church. 

1.  The  instinct  of  social  work,  the  idea  of  self-sacrifice  for  the 
many,  of  united  effort  for  the  common  cause  which  is  the  good  of 
all,  is  perfectly  satisfied  by  the  conception  of  the  Holy  Catholic 
Church.  It  is  true  that  to  many  the  Church  has  come  to  mean 
simply  an  institution  for  the  spiritual  advantage  chiefly  of  the 
wealthier  classes ;  but  that,  surely,  is  a  grotesque  parody  of  the 
Church,  which  in  its  fulness  and  glory  means  nothing  else  than  a 
spiritual  society  founded  by  our  Lord  Himself,  to  be  His  Kingdom 
on  earth.  The  Church  is  a  great  Mutual  Benefit  Society,  the 
greatest  which  has  ever  existed  among  men,  and  the  salvation 
which  the  Church  offers  is  no  selfish  or  solitary  thing.  And  if  wo 
realize  what  is  involved  in  being  members  of  the  Holy  Catholic 
Church,  we  cannot  rest  until  we  are  doing  something,  however 
little  it  may  be,  towards  making  this  mutual  helpfulness  a  more 
real  thing  than  it  was  before.  The  Bible  comes  to  us  with  lessons 
tending  in  this  direction  on  every  page.  We  are  "members 
one  of  another " ;  "  Let  him  that  loveth  God,  love  his  brother 
also  " ;  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself  " ;  "  Bear  ye  one 
another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ."  St.  John  is 
the  strongest  and  clearest  of  all  the  inspired  writers  on  this  great 
lesson  of  mutual  love  and  social  service.  He  makes  it  a  test: 
"  By  this  we  know  that  we  have  passed  out  of  death  into  life." 
Why?  How?  Not  becauf^e  we  have  accepted  the  Christian 
Creed,  not  by  participation  in  the  Sacraments,  but  "  because  we 
love  the  brethren." 

She  sits  in  beauty  by  the  world's  Sin-Gate, 

Where  pass  the  hopes  that  come  not  back  again, — 

Lorn  hearts  and  lonely,  souls  of  love  and  hate, 
Sad  women,  weary  children,  broken  men; 

And  evermore  her  Master's  royal  love 

Goes  down  among  the  dark  and  hopeless  bands. 

Bids  drooping  souls  rejoice,  and  look  above, 
And  trust,  unfearing,  to  His  wounded  hands.* 

*  L.  Maclean  Watt,  In  Poets'  Comer,  66. 


144       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

2,  But  our  practice  falls  painfully  short  of  what  it  ought  to 
be  and  might  be.  Some  of  us  have  shaken  off  the  fetters  of 
Individualism.  We  have  accepted,  with  our  lips  at  least,  this 
much  more  glorious  creed  of  mutual  service  and  co-operation; 
but  how  little  there  is  really  of  social  life  even  in  the  best 
organized  Church !  Very  few  of  us  consider  that  the  fact  of 
being  fellow-communicants  creates  any  real  demand  on  our 
sympathy  or  help.  Most  of  us  worship  year  after  year  in  a 
church,  seeing  the  same  faces  round  us,  kneeling  next  to  us  at  the 
altar,  and  yet  go  out  into  the  world  and  treat  them  as  strangers. 

^  Again  and  again  complaint  has  reached  me  from  young  men 
who  have  come  up  to  London  to  seek  their  fortune ;  they  have 
left  home  and  friends  and  all  companionship  behind  them,  and 
have  come  up  to  hard  toil  in  this  grasping,  grinding  city.  They 
are  cut  off  from  all  the  enjoyments  and  amenities  of  a  young 
man's  natural  life ;  and  the  Church  is  just  the  place  where  they 
might  find  what  they  need.  The  Church  might  supply  a  young 
man  with  these  natural  enjoyments,  all  the  more  delightful 
because  they  would  be  pure  and  good.  But  does  the  Church? 
That  is  the  point.  Again  and  again  it  has  been  said  to  me,  "  I 
have  found  such  and  such  a  church ;  I  like  the  preaching  and  the 
ritual ;  I  make  my  Communions  there ;  but  I  don't  know  anybody. 
Nobody  has  taken  me  up.  Nobody  has  shown  me  any  help; 
nobody  has  said  anything  to  me;  nobody  is  interested  in  me." 
Well,  there  is  a  way  in  which  every  one  of  us  could  do  something 
to  realize  the  social  ideal  of  the  Catholic  Church.  We  could 
stretch  out  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  to  our  brother- worshippers, 
and  do  something  to  break  down  a  little  of  our  national  English 
stiffness  and  shyness,  and  enable  people  to  realize — what,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  they  do  feel  in  their  hearts — the  bond  which  unites 
all  those  who  meet  together  in  the  mystical  Body  of  Christ.  Very 
different  would  be  the  aspect  of  the  world  if  we  all  did  that.^ 

f  I  sat  a  little  while  ago  in  one  of  the  chambers  of  the 
National  Gallery,  and  my  attention  was  caught  by  the  vast 
miscellaneous  crowd  as  it  sauntered  or  galloped  through  the 
rooms.  All  sorts  and  conditions  of  people  passed  by — rich  and 
poor,  the  well-dressed  and  the  beggarly,  students  and  artisans, 
soldiers  and  sailors,  maidens  just  out  of  school  and  women  bowed 
and  wrinkled  in  age ;  but,  whoever  they  were,  and  however  un- 
arresting may  have  been  all  the  other  pictures  in  the  chamber, 
every  single  soul  in  that  mortal  crowd  stopped  dead  and  silent 

»  G.  W.  B.  EusseU. 


GENESIS  IV.  9  145 

before  a  picture  of  our  Saviour  bearing  His  cross  to  the  hill. 
And  when  the  Church  is  seen  to  be  His  body — His  very  body : 
His  lips,  His  eyes,  His  ears,  His  hands,  His  feet.  His  brain,  His 
heart :  His  very  body — and  when  the  Church  repeats,  in  this  her 
corporate  life,  the  brave  and  manifold  doings  of  Judaea  and 
Galilee,  she  too  shall  awe  the  multitude,  and  by  God's  grace 
she  shall  convert  the  pregnant  wonder  into  deep  and  grateful 
devotion.* 

IT  How  far  we  are  from  reaching  the  Christ  ideal !  James 
Russell  Lowell  was  a  poet,  a  statesman,  a  man  of  the  world.  You 
know  his  poem,  "  A  Parable  " : 

Said  Christ  our  Lord,  "I  will  go  and  see 
How  the  men,  My  brethren,  believe  in  Me." 

Great  organs  surged  through  arches  dim 
Their  jubilant  floods  in  praise  of  Him; 
And  in  church,  and  palace,  and  judgment-hall, 
He  saw  His  own  image  high  over  all. 
But  still,  wherever  His  steps  they  led. 
The  Lord  in  sorrow  bent  down  His  head; 
And  from  under  the  heavy  foundation-stones, 
The  Son  of  Mary  heard  bitter  groans. 

"Have  ye  founded  your  thrones  and  altars,  then, 
On  the  bodies  and  souls  of  living  men? 
And  think  ye  that  building  shall  endure, 
Which  shelters  the  noble  and  crushes  the  poor?" 

Then  Christ  sought  out  an  artisan, 
A  low-browed,  stunted,  haggard  man. 
And  a  motherless  girl,  whose  fingers  thin 
Pushed  from  her  faintly  want  and  sin. 
These  set  He  in  the  midst  of  them, 
And  as  they  drew  back  their  garment-hem. 
For  fear  of  defilement,  "Lo,  here,"  said  He, 
"  The  images  ye  have  made  of  Me ! " 

U.  The  Missionary  Duty  of  the  Church. 

1.  There  is  another  aspect  of  Church  life.  Christ  Himself  has 
laid  the  responsibility  of  missionary  service  upon  the  Church,  and 
therefore  there  cannot  be  sound  and  healthy  life  in  the  Church 
where  it  is  ignored.     We  must  think  of  the  word  "  missionary  "  in 

» J.  H.  Jowett 

GEN.-NUM. — 10 


146       AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER? 

its  true  sense, — it  matters  not  whether  we  apply  it  to  work  at 
home  or  abroad — the  Church  must  go  out  "  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost." 

We  have  found  in  the  Old  Testament  the  blackest  picture  of  a 
brother's  sin.  We  can  find  in  the  New  Testament  a  very  different 
picture.  Andrew,  the  First  Apostle,  has  always  been  chosen 
as  the  illustrative  type  of  a  missionary  because  he  brought  his 
brother  to  Christ.  The  two  brothers,  thus  placed  in  juxta- 
position, show  the  completely  different  (and  yet  by  no  means 
unusually  different)  view  which  two  men  could  take  of  the 
relations  and  duties  of  brotherhood.  Just  as  the  stars  shine 
brightest  on  a  dark  night,  so  the  dark  background  of  Cain's 
selfishness  and  jealousy  serves  to  enhance  the  brilliance  of 
Andrew's  conduct,  whose  first  thought  was  to  find  his  brother 
and  to  make  him  the  sharer  of  his  own  happiness. 

Complete  as  is  the  difference  between  the  light  and  dark,  and 
complete  as  is  the  contrast  between  the  action  of  these  two  men,  the 
essence  of  the  difference  between  the  careers  of  the  Apostle  and  the 
fratricide  lay  in  this  one  point — a  matter  which  men  are  used  to 
look  upon  as  very  much  a  question  of  degree,  and  influenced 
immensely  by  differing  circumstances — the  way  in  which  they 
respectively  regarded  brotherhood  as  a  relationship  entailing,  or 
not  entailing,  certain  natural  duties.  "Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper  ? "  said  Cain,  and  when  he  asked  that  question,  he  seemed 
to  take  it  for  granted  that  he  had  made  a  defence  of  himself  to 
which  no  exception  could  possibly  be  taken.  "Where  is  Abel 
thy  brother?  ...  I  know  not:  am  I  my  brother's  keeper?" 
seemed  unanswerable.  But  with  Andrew  it  was  just  the 
opposite.  His  first  thought,  on  making  the  great  discovery  of 
Christ,  was  to  make  his  brother  the  partner  of  his  good  fortune : 
**  He  first  findeth  his  own  brother  Simon,  and  saith  unto  him,  We 
have  found  the  Messias." 

A  brother's  heart  had  Andrew.    Joy  beyond 
All  joy  to  him,  the  promised  Christ  to  find: 
But  heavenly  joy  may  not  to  duty  blind; 
He  cannot  rest,  his  bliss  is  incomplete 
Till  Simon  sits  with  him  at  Jesus'  feet, — 
His  brother  then  by  more  than  natural  bond.* 

^  G.  T.  Coster. 


GENESIS  IV.  9  147 

2.  Missions!  Christianity  alone  could  give  birth  to  them 
Men  may  be  disposed  to  disparage  them,  but  have  they  ever 
seriously  reflected  what  civilized  Europe  would  have  given  to 
pagan  populations,  if  Christian  missionaries  had  not  been  there  ? 
Alas !  what  would  it  have  brought  to  them  ?  Eifles  and  other 
fire-arms  wherewith  to  destroy  each  other;  brandy  and  opium, 
to  brutalize  and  to  degrade !  But  amongst  those  European 
conquerors,  in  the  very  refinement  of  their  vices  more  barbarous 
than  their  victims,  there  are  those  who  have  at  heart  a  strange 
love.  They  come  to  these  pagans.  They  tell  them  of  the  Father 
in  heaven  who  loves  them,  and  of  brothers  on  earth  who  wish  to 
save  them.  They  relate  to  them  the  marvellous  history  of  the 
love  of  the  Son  of  God.  They  are  persecuted.  They  are  reviled. 
They  may  be  murdered.  But  soon,  on  the  earth  watered  by  their 
blood,  Christian  Churches  are  seen  to  flourish.  It  is  thus  that  the 
net  of  the  gospel,  formerly  borne  by  twelve  fishermen  of  Galilee, 
finds  its  extremities  meet  after  having  compassed  the  whole  earth. 

The  platted  thorns  that  pierced  His  bleeding  brow, 
The  cross  of  shame,  the  spikes  that  tore  His  palms, 

Are  blazoned  o'er  her  banners,  treasured  now. 
All  consecrate  with  martyrs'  dying  psalms. 

Sweet  daughter  of  the  King ! — her  beauty  bright 
Hath  yet  the  bloodstains  starred  upon  her  vest, 

Of  faithful  hearts,  who,  through  a  loveless  night 
Of  flame  and  sword  went  gloriously  to  rest.^ 

*  L.  Macleau  Watt,  In  Poets'  Comers  66. 


Walking  with  God. 


Literature. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  The  Great  Saints  of  the  Bible,  21. 

Barton  (G.  A.),  2'he  Roots  of  Christian  Teaching,  88. 

Burrell  (D,  J.),  The  Religion  of  the  Future,  137. 

Da  vies  (J.),  The  Kingdom  without  Observation,  172. 

Qreenhough.  (J.  G.),  Old  Pictures  in  Modern  Frames,  1. 

Greer  (D.  H.),  From  Things  to  God,  123. 

Horton  (R.  F.),  Lyndhurst  Road  Pulpit,  51. 

Jenkins  (E.  E.),  Sermons,  249. 

Lilley  (J.  P.),  The  Pathway  of  Light,  19. 

Lonsdale  (J.),  Sermons,  135. 

McLeod  (M.  J.),  Heavenly  Harmonies,  9. 

Morris  (A.  J.),  The  Open  Secret,  162. 

Myres  (W.  M.),  Fragments  that  remain,  94. 

Oosterzee  (J.  J.  van),  The  Year  of  Salvation,  i.  416. 

Pearce  (J.),  Life  on  the  Heights,  9. 

Price  (A.  C),  Fifty  Sermons,  i.  81 ;  x.  65. 

Purves  (G.  T.),  Faith  and  Life,  215. 

Raleigh  (A.),  The  Way  to  the  City,  408. 

Roberts  (E.),  in  The  People's  Pulpit,  ii.  No.  43. 

Ryle  (J.  C),  The  Christian  Race,  243. 

Smellie  (A.),  In  the  Secret  Place,  4. 

Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  ?xii.  No.  1307. 

Thomas  (J.),  Myrtle  Street  Pulpit,  iv.  35. 

Christian  World  Pulpit,  xxxix.    139  (Goadby) ;   xl.  366  (White); 

Hi.  328  (Stalker) ;  Ixxi.  97  (Jowett). 
Expositor,  2nd  Ser.,  vii.  321  (Cox). 


■•• 


Walking  with  God. 

Enoch  walked  with   God:   and    he  was    not;   for    God    took   him.— 
Gen.  V.  24. 

How  strange  it  is,  if  you  are  reading  the  Bible  from  the 
beginning,  to  come  to  this  text !  Here  was  a  man  in  the  very 
childhood  of  the  world,  who  seemed  distinguished  from  those  who 
lived  around  him  and  from  those  who  came  after  him,  because 
he  walked  with  God.  What  does  it  mean  ?  The  words  which 
would  explain  it  are  so  simple,  and  the  thoughts  which  they 
contain  are  so  sublime,  that  one  almost  hesitates  to  speak  about 
it.  Yet  we  might  shape  it  perhaps,  at  any  rate  in  outline, 
according  to  our  own  experience,  and  we  might  say,  this  primitive 
man,  not  seeing  or  touching  God  any  more  than  we  do,  yet 
realized  habitually  His  existence;  recognized  His  presence — His 
close  presence — with  Him  every  day;  as  one  would  pass  many 
days  in  the  society  of  some  dear  friend,  so  he  passed  his  days  in 
the  society  of  God,  but  with  this  beautiful  difference :  we  cannot 
spend  many  consecutive  days  with  our  dearest  friends ;  some  of 
them  we  are  obliged  to  leave,  others  we  are  obliged  to  lose ;  with 
God  the  companionship  need  not  be  intermitted.  It  was  not 
necessary  to  leave  Him,  and  the  man  therefore  kept  up  a 
companionship  unbroken.  When  he  woke  from  sleep  in  the 
morning,  the  first  thought  that  rushed  into  his  mind  would  be : — 

Still,  still  with  Thee, 

When  purple  morning  breaketh, 
When  the  bird  waketh, 

And  the  shadows  flee. 

And  as  he  went  about  his  business — the  business  of  the  herd, 
or  of  the  ploughing,  or  the  ordering  of  his  household — the  sweet 
consciousness  of  that  companionship  might  be  submerged  beneath 
the  surface  for  a  little,   but  surely   to  emerge  again  directly 


152  WALKING  WITH  GOD 

the  occasion  was  presented.  The  occupations  of  the  day  did  not 
disturb  the  reality  of  the  life,  any  more  than  business  men,  who 
love  their  wives  and  children,  feel  that  their  love  is  in  the  least 
affected  because  they  have  to  go  into  the  city  in  the  morning, 
and  to  be  plunged  into  the  toil  and  the  cares  of  the  day's 
business.  Quite  the  contrary,  it  is  that  love  which  animates 
their  toil  and  keeps  them  close  to  the  task,  and  it  is  the  thought 
of  coming  home  in  the  evening,  the  welcome  of  the  wife  and 
the  smiles  of  the  children,  which  presents  itself  to  them  as  the 
reward  of  their  labour.  Just  so,  when  the  pressure  relaxed, 
Enoch  would  exclaim:  "Keturn  unto  thy  rest,  0  my  Soul; 
resume  thine  intercourse  with  thy  Beloved."  We  may  fancy 
also  that  he  talked  with  God,  talked  sometimes  aloud,  talked  also 
when  in  the  presence  of  others  it  was  necessary  to  talk  in  silence. 
Sometimes  his  words  were  uttered  in  the  presence  of  God,  as  in 
the  presence  of  a  mighty  Potentate,  and  words  would  come  slowly, 
with  trembling  and  fearfulness.  But  much  oftener  he  would  talk 
to  God  familiarly,  and  in  a  childlike  way ;  would  tell  Him  of  the 
cares  and  anxieties  of  the  day ;  would  ask  his  God  to  come  and 
share  his  deepest  joys ;  and  would  not  hesitate  to  ask  whatever 
he  wanted,  keeping  up  an  hourly  conversation  with  Him.  This 
"  walk  with  God  "  would  be  the  dominating  fact  of  the  man's  life : 
the  foundation  on  which  the  palace  of  life  would  be  built :  the 
ground  harmony  from  which  the  variations  of  his  music  would 
be  developed.  And  such  a  walk  with  God,  maintained  for  some 
years,  would  render  it  inapplicable  to  speak  of  death  in  connexion 
with  the  man ;  and,  when  death  came,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
use  another  phrase  altogether,  and  to  say,  "  He  was  not ;  for  God 
took  him." 

^  That  we  should  establish  ourselves  in  a  sense  of  God's 
Presence,  by  continually  conversing  with  Him,  That  it  was  a 
shameful  thing  to  quit  His  conversation  to  think  of  trifles  and 
fooleries.^ 

%  That  in  order  to  form  a  habit  of  conversing  with  God  con- 
tinually, and  referring  all  we  do  to  Him,  we  must  at  first  apply 
to  Him  with  some  diligence :  but  that  after  a  little  care  we 
should  find  His  love  inwardly  excite  us  to  it  without  any  diffi- 
culty.* 

'  Brother  Lawrence,  The  Practice  of  the  Presence  of  Ood,  6. 
» Ibid.  10. 


GENESIS  V.  24  153 

Hifl  priest  am  I,  before  Him  day  and  night, 

Within  His  holy  place; 
And  death,  and  life,  and  all  things  dark  and  bright, 

I  spread  before  His  Face. 
Kejoicing  with  His  joy,  yet  ever  still, 

For  silence  is  my  song ; 
My  work  to  bend  beneath  His  blessed  will. 

All  day,  and  all  night  long — 
For  ever  holding  with  Him  converse  sweet. 
Yet  speechless,  for  my  gladness  is  complete.^ 


Enoch  walked  with  GtOD. 

The  phrase  "  walking  with  God  "  is  used  continually  throughout 
the  Old  Testament  to  characterize  a  religious  life.  In  the  brief 
record  of  Enoch's  life  in  Gen.  v.  22-24  it  is  mentioned  twice  that 
he  "walked  with  God."  It  was  evidently  the  fact  which  was 
most  noticeable  in  him,  and  it  passed  down  to  posterity  as  his 
distinguishing  mark.  Again  in  Gen.  vL  9  the  same  statement  is 
made  about  Noah,  the  preacher  of  righteousness  before  the  Flood. 
In  Gen.  xvii.  a  slightly  different  expression  is  used  of  Abraham : 
God  said  to  him,  "Walk  before  me,  and  be  thou  perfect,"  and 
Abraham  afterwards,  in  chapter  xxiv.,  speaks  of  God  as  "  The  Lord 
before  whom  I  walk."  This  expression  about  Abraham  is  taken 
up  again  in  the  prayer  of  Hezekiah :  "  Eemember,  0  Lord,"  he 
says,  "  how  I  have  walked  before  thee  in  truth  and  with  a  perfect 
heart."  And  one  of  the  Psalmists  in  the  111th  Psalm  declares 
his  intention  of  "  walking  before  the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the 
living."  In  the  16th  Psalm,  again,  the  same  thought  is  stated  in 
a  different  way :  "  I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before  me  :  because 
he  is  at  my  right  hand,  I  shall  not  be  moved."  In  the  Prophet 
Micah,  this  "  walking  with  God "  is  mentioned  as  one  of  three 
things  that  God  requires  of  man :  "  To  do  justly,  and  to  love  mercy, 
and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God."  And  then,  in  the  last  book 
of  the  Old  Testament,  we  are  told  about  Levi  that  he  "  walked 
with  God  in  peace  and  uprightness,  and  turned  many  away  from 
their  iniquity  "  (Mai.  ii.  6). 

*  G«rhardt  Tersteegen,  trans,  by  Frances  Bevan, 


154  WALKING  WITH  GOD 

In  the  New  Testament  we  learn  that  we  are  to  "  walk  not 
after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit."  We  are  to  "  walk  worthy 
of  the  vocation  wherewith  we  are  called."  We  are  to  "walk 
worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing."  We  are  to  "  walk  circum- 
spectly." We  are  to  "  walk  in  the  light."  We  are  to  "  walk  by 
faith." 

What  are  we  to  understand,  then,  when  we  are  told  that 
Enoch  walked  with  God  ? 

1.  First  of  all  it  is  implied  that  God  is  a  person  as  Enoch  is 
a  person.  This  twofold  conception  is  necessary  to  any  adequate 
idea  of  religion.  There  is  a  theory  which  makes  man  the  only 
active  spirit  in  religion ;  all  religion  is  but  man's  reflection  upon 
the  world,  and  upon  his  own  nature.  Now,  that  theory  is  in 
truth  a  denial  of  religion.  To  negate  God,  to  blot  out  the  Divine 
Personality,  is  to  undermine  religion.  Some  reverence  in  face  of 
the  mysterious  forces  of  the  world,  and  the  majesty  of  the  uni- 
verse, some  sort  of  naturalistic  piety,  there  might  be,  but  it  would 
fall  short  altogether  of  what  is  the  very  essence  of  religion. 
That  essence  is  communion  and  intercourse  between  persons — the 
person  man  and  the  Person  God.  Communion  with  a  universe 
depersonalized  does  not  yield  religion,  and  it  leaves  man  in  that 
most  terrible  loneliness — the  embodiment  of  a  great  need  for 
which  there  is  no  satisfaction,  and  his  life  one  great  agonizing 
cry  to  which  there  is  no  response. 

^  Herbert  Spencer's  suggestion  that  God  may  be  superper- 
sonal,  some  sort  of  Being  other  and  higher  than  personal,  does 
not  serve  us  at  all.  If  God  is  superpersonal.  He  is  nothing  to  us, 
for  the  highest  being  we  can  conceive  is  conceived  in  the  terms 
of  personality.  We  cannot  think  outside  ourselves,  and  an 
absolutely  inconceivable  God  is  to  us  no  God.  The  basis  of 
religion  rests  on  this  as  one  of  its  two  fundamental  convictions — 
that  there  resides  in  this  universe  the  eternal  self-conscious 
Spirit  who  made  it,  who  goes  on  making  it,  and  who  reveals 
Himself  to  man.  Eeligious  truth  is  not  the  product  of  the  action 
of  man's  mind  upon  a  passive  universe.  Something  is  given  to 
man — given  by  One  who  knows  that  He  gives ;  a  communication 
is  made  by  the  eternal  self-conscious  Spirit  to  the  human  spirit.^ 

2.  To  walk  with  God,  in  the  next  place,  impHes  harmony. 
"The  carnal  man  is  enmity  against  God,"  and  there  must  first 

>  T.  R.  WilliauM. 


GENESIS  V.  24  155 

be  reconciliation.  "  How  can  two  walk  together,  except  they  be 
agreed  ? "  Amos  asked  that  question,  and  there  is  logic  in  that 
little  word  "  can."  An  appeal  is  it  to  the  nature  of  things,  and 
"the  nature  of  things  is  the  law  of  God."  Harmony  of  sound 
is  music.  Harmony  of  word  to  thought  is  poetry.  Harmony  of 
colour  is  beauty.  The  most  beautiful  thing  in  nature  is  the 
rainbow;  God  blends  the  colours.  Life,  the  philosophers  are 
telling  us,  is  correspondence  with  environment.  In  disease  or 
death  something  is  thrown  out  of  correspondence.  The  deaf  man 
is  thrown  out  of  correspondence  with  the  world  of  sound;  the 
blind  man  with  the  world  of  beauty.  We  are  fearfully  and 
wonderfully  made.  Co-relation  of  part  with  part  is  intimate, 
and  any  interference  means  friction.  The  perfect  workmanship 
is  frictionless.  Sin  is  disagreement,  fermentation,  rebellion, 
alienation,  estrangement,  mutiny,  discord — the  one  all-pervading 
discord  of  the  universe. 

^  The  great  dramatist,  in  the  Tempest,  makes  Ferdinand  and 
Miranda  fall  in  love  at  first  meeting.  A  glance,  he  says,  and 
they  "  changed  eyes."  The  man  who  "  walks  with  God "  is  he 
who  has  changed  eyes  with  God.  He  sees  as  God  sees.  "  There 
is  not  an  honest  student  of  the  Bible  anywhere,"  says  Joseph 
Cook,  "who  is  not  willing  to  admit  that  salvation  is  harmony 
with  God  " — loving  what  God  loves,  and  hating  what  God  hates. 

^  Culture  is  pained  by  contact  with  coarseness.  The  eye  of 
the  artist  is  troubled  with  a  false  blending  of  colour.  The  ear 
of  the  musician  is  tortured  with  dissonance.  Handel  tells  us 
that  a  flatness  felled  him  like  a  blow.  And  a  high,  lofty  moral 
nature  is  wounded  by  the  world's  sin  and  shame,  and  shrinks 
with  grief  at  its  beholding.  Love  and  hate  can  never  be  at  peace. 
Corruption  and  cleanliness  must  necessarily  quarrel.  This  is  a 
law  woven  into  the  nature  of  things.  Until  a  man  is  washed  by 
the  blood  of  Jesus  from  the  guilt  of  sin  and  the  power  of  sin  and 
the  love  of  sin,  he  cannot  be  at  peace  in  the  presence  of  infinite 
holiness.^ 

3.  But,  again,  to  walk  with  God  is  to  keep  the  commandments 
of  God.  For  what  supremely  attracts  the  Divine  approbation 
is  not  greatness,  but  goodness,  moral  goodness.  Enoch  had  neither 
worldly  wealth,  nor  grandeur,  nor  power.  He  was  not  famed  for 
any  of  these.     His   excellency  in  the   sight  of   Grod,  and   what 

»  M.  J.  M'Leod. 


156  WALKING  WITH  GOD 

distinguished  him  from  his  contemporaries,  was  his  personal 
purity.  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart ;  for  they  shall  see 
God."  That  is  the  condition  of  the  beatific  vision.  Only  the 
pure  in  heart  can  see  God,  and  only  in  the  degree  in  which  they 
are  pure.  The  pure  in  heart  behold  Him  here.  The  impure 
could  not  see  Him  even  there — the  vision  of  God,  the  sight  of 
the  King  in  His  beauty,  and  of  the  land  that  is  very  far  off, 
is  vouchsafed  not  to  science  but  to  sanctity,  not  to  talent  but  to 
love.  In  the  spiritual  world  a  man  is  measured,  not  by  his  gifts 
but  by  his  graces,  not  by  his  intellect  but  by  his  likeness  to  God. 
God  does  not  reason  or  remember,  perhaps,  just  as  we  do,  but  He 
loves.  He  cannot  believe,  for  He  fills  immensity;  He  cannot 
hope,  for  He  inhabits  eternity ;  but  He  can  love. 

H  All  the  world  praises  the  clever  men;  the  talented 
originators,  the  ingenious  inventors.  They  never  lack  crowns 
and  rewards.  But  is  there  not  something  to  be  said  for  the  men 
and  women  who  have  simply  purity  and  elevation  of  character  ? 
The  man  who  sends  a  current  of  pure  air  or  purifying  example 
through  the  world's  work-field  is  at  least  as  praiseworthy  as  the 
man  who  supplies  its  machinery.  Some  men  serve  the  world  by 
what  they  are  rather  than  by  what  they  do.  Economically,  they 
are  cyphers,  but  as  sweeteners  of  the  world's  life  they  are  worth 
more  than  gold.  I  have  known  a  few  men  and  women  who  have 
done  more  to  make  me  believe  in  God  and  goodness  than  all  the 
books  I  ever  read.  Their  names  never  get  into  the  newspapers, 
but  their  sanctity  pervades  the  air  like  a  perfume  from  the 
heavenly  fields.  When  they  die,  they  leave  no  fortune  or 
triumphant  record  of  startling  deeds  ;  they  leave  only  the  sweet 
memory  of  what  they  were.  We  felt  their  healing  touch  as  they 
passed  by,  and  we  are  far  better  men  for  having  known  them. 
And  their  epitaph  is  fitly  written  in  such  words  as  these :  "  He 
walked  with  God :  and  he  was  not ;  for  God  took  him."  ^ 

4.  Once  more,  to  walk  with  God  means  progress.  Not  only 
does  it  mean  that  progress  is  being  made.  That  is  true.  For  in 
the  spiritual  life  as  in  all  life,  there  is  no  standing  still.  But  it 
also  signifies  that  some  maturity  of  religious  consciousness  has 
been  attained.  There  is  a  sense  of  Divine  companionship,  of 
harmony  with  the  higher  will ;  there  is  a  conquest  of  the  life  of 
sense,  an  at-home-ness  in  the  spiritual  life. 

'  J.  G.  GrMDhoogh. 


GENESIS  V.  24  157 

^  The  conquest  of  the  spiritual  over  the  natural  life  is  not 
unlike  the  advancing  light  of  the  morning  sun.  At  Grind  el  wald 
I  remember  watching  it.  At  first  it  only  just  tipped  the  very 
highest  of  the  mountain  peaks ;  gradually  the  whole  peak  was  in 
the  brilliant  light,  all  the  valley  still  in  shadow.  But  the  peak 
in  the  light  was  guarantee  that  the  shadow  was  doomed.  Watch 
it:  inch  by  inch  the  shadow  is  chased  down  the  hill  until  the 
lowliest  flower  in  the  valley  stands  bright  in  the  victory  of  day. 
At  first  the  sense  of  God  illumines  only  our  best  moments — those 
whitest  and  highest  parts  of  our  life,  those  mountains  of  trans- 
figuration where  we  do  not  build  tabernacles  nor  remain.  Yes, 
God's  light  is  there,  but  life  is  mostly  valley  still  in  the  shadow. 
Let  us  take  heart.  Let  us  keep  our  eye  on  those  shining  heights. 
All  the  shadows  are  doomed ;  it  is  in  the  nature  of  that  sun  to 
conquer.  "  He  which  began  a  good  work  in  you  will  perfect  it 
until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ  "  (Phil.  I  6)} 

Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  0  my  soul, 

As  the  swift  seasons  roll ! 

Leave  thy  low-vaulted  past ! 
Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last. 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast, 

Till  thou  at  length  art  free, 
Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell  by  life's  unresting  sea!* 

5.  And,  last  of  all,  to  walk  with  God  means  rest  For  harmony 
comes  through  obedience,  and  obedience  always  gives  rest.  There 
is  harmony  in  music  because  in  music  there  is  no  self-will.  Music 
is  built  on  law.  Man  did  not  make  this  law ;  he  has  simply 
discovered  it.  If  he  breaks  it  the  music  ceases.  Each  Haydn 
and  Handel  is  as  much  bound  by  it  as  each  amateur.  The  same 
is  true  of  man's  relation  to  his  every  art.  Find  out  its  principles, 
and  all  the  genius  of  that  art  is  yours.  But  disobey  its  principles ; 
try  to  excel  in  any  other  way  than  by  conformity  to  its  nature, 
and  all  that  art  contends  against  you,  and  balks  you  at  every 
step.  We  cannot  change  ocean  current  or  tide,  but  we  can  build 
our  ship  and  stretch  our  sail,  and  by  adapting  us  to  wind  and 
wave  we  can  gain  any  Liverpool  or  Queenstown.  We  cannot 
conquer  lightning.  Obedience  pulls  the  sting  out  of  the  lightning 
and  makes  it  harmless.  Fire  is  a  bad  master,  but  a  good  servant. 
So  is  it  in  the  spiritual  life.     If  we  obey  the  law  of  God  we  have 

*  T.  S.  WillMOtf.  '  OliTer  Wendell  Holme*. 


158  WALKING  WITH  GOD 

"rest  and  peace  in  the  beloved."  He  who  is  in  love  with  his 
neighbour,  filling  the  sphere  in  which  God  has  placed  him,  has 
heaven  in  his  heart  already.  Only  through  blue  in  the  eye, 
scientists  tell  us,  can  blue  out  of  the  eye  be  seen.  Only  through 
C  in  the  ear  can  C  out  of  the  ear  be  heard.  Jerusalem  which  is 
above  is  recognized  because  that  City  has  already  descended  from 
God. 

^  After  a  hard  day's  work  Bengel  retired  to  rest.  Some  one 
heard  his  prayer :  "  Blessed  Lord,  we  are  on  the  same  good  old 
terms  to-night."  Then  the  good  man  slept.  His  life  was  keyed 
to  the  divine  life.  His  heart  kept  time  to  the  pulse  of  God.  He 
had  peace.^ 

II. 

Enoch  was  not. 

"He  was  not;  for  God  took  him";  that  is,  as  the  writer  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  has  it,  "he  was  not  found."  That 
expression  "he  was  not  found"  seems  to  suggest  that  he  was 
missed  and  sought  for.  Such  a  man  would  be  missed.  No 
doubt  the  men  of  that  age  knew  him  well.  He  was  a  preacher 
of  righteousness,  and  had  often  warned  them  of  a  judgment  to 
come.  With  his  departure  there  was  a  palpable  blank.  "  He  was 
not  found,"  because  God  had  translated  him. 

1.  Enoch  would  be  missed  because  his  life  was  a  good  life. 
Though  a  life  so  full  of  God,  though  so  constant  and  so  close  in 
the  most  sacred  of  communions,  yet  neither  monk's  life  nor 
hermit's  life  was  Enoch's.  It  was  a  life  in  all  its  outward  circum- 
stances as  ours  is,  or  may  be,  or  should  be.  It  was  a  life,  not  in 
the  wilderness  in  a  contemplative  solitude,  but  in  the  thick  and 
throng  of  society.  Nor  was  it  the  select  society  of  a  religious 
community  apart  from  worldly  cares  and  common  relationships ; 
it  was  a  life  domestic,  not  monastic — we  read  of  his  son 
Methuselah  ;  and  it  was  after  the  birth  of  his  son  that  he  walked 
these  noted  three  hundred  years  with  God.  Thus,  as  regards  his 
own  household,  this  distinguished  piety  flourished  in  plain, 
natural,  domestic  life.  There  is  nothing  exceptional,  nothing 
exotic  about  it ;  not  a  growth  within  the  shelter  of  costly  walls, 

»M.  J.  M'Leod. 


GENESIS  V.  24  159 

under  fostering  heat,  with  dainty  soil  and  a  covering  of  glass ;  it 
was  in  the  open  and  common  air  of  the  world.  Indeed,  so  far 
from  favouring,  circumstances  were  against  him.  Enoch's  age 
was  a  deeply  corrupt  age.  It  was  a  God  and  eternity  forgetting 
world  that  the  patriarch  lived  in.  But  he  was  no  silent,  unre- 
monstrating  witness  of  the  world's  corruption  and  carelessness. 
He  gave  his  living  and  lifelong  example ;  and,  moreover,  he 
spoke  out.  The  Spirit  of  that  God  with  whom  he  walked  inspired 
his  speech,  and  gave  his  words  a  heavenly  sanction,  so  that  his 
warniDgs  partook  of  the  nature  of  prophecy.  Like  Noah,  Enoch 
was  a  preacher  of  righteousness  and  herald  of  judgment :  "  Enoch 
also,  the  seventh  from  Adam,  prophesied  of  these,  saying,  Behold, 
the  Lord  cometh  with  ten  thousands  of  his  saints,  to  execute 
judgment  upon  all,  and  to  convince  all  that  are  ungodly  among 
them  of  all  their  ungodly  deeds  which  they  have  ungodly  com- 
mitted, and  of  all  their  hard  speeches  which  ungodly  sinners  have 
spoken  against  him  "  (Jude  14,  15). 

If  I  should  die  to-night, 
My  friends  would  call  to  mind,  with  loving  thought. 
Some  kindly  deed  the  icy  hand  had  wrought, 
Some  gentle  word  the  frozen  lips  had  said: 
Errands  on  which  the  willing  feet  had  sped — 
The  memory  of  my  selfishness  and  pride. 
My  hasty  words,  would  all  be  put  aside, 
And  so  I  should  be  mourned  to-night 

Oh,  friends,  I  pray  to-night. 
Keep  not  your  kisses  for  my  dead,  cold  brow. 
The  way  is  lonely;  let  me  feel  them  now. 
Think  gently  of  me;  I  am  travel  worn; 
My  faltering  feet  are  pierced  with  many  a  thorn. 
Forgive !  0  hearts  estranged,  forgive,  I  plead ! 
When  dreamless  rest  is  mine,  I  shall  not  need 
The  tenderness  for  which  I  long  to-night.^ 

2.  But  this  grand  revelation  did  not  disclose  itself  fully  and 
clearly  until  they  lost  Enoch,  The  full  significance  of  a  noble 
life  is  scarcely  ever,  perhaps  never,  realized  until  we  have  lost  it. 
"  Whence  hath  this  man  these  mighty  works  ?  This  carpenter 
of  Nazareth  we  know ;  bis  brothers  and  sisters  live  next  door  to 
>  Robert  C.  Y.  Meyers. 


i6o  WALKING  WITH  GOD 

us."  Ay,  He  was  too  near  them.  They  had  not  yet  seen  the 
majesty  and  the  grandeur  of  Him,  and  even  to  His  disciples  He 
said,  "  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away."  As  who  should 
say,  "  I  am  too  near  to  you  now.  I  must  get  further  away  before 
you  can  understand  me,  and  receive  the  mighty  Spirit  that  shall 
reveal  all  things  to  you,"  The  prophet  is  only  half  understood 
as  we  rub  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  him.  He  talks  to  us  as  one 
of  ourselves,  and  we  do  not  know  the  mighty  spirit  that  speaks 
to  us  and  inspires  us  until  he  has  passed  away  to  the  glorious 
crown  of  the  mighty.  And  so  God  glorifies  Himself  in  His 
servants  by  their  death  as  well  as  by  their  life.  It  is  for  Him  to 
choose.  It  is  for  Him  to  determine  by  which  we  shall  glorify  His 
name  the  more.  For  us  the  one  purpose,  the  one  ambition  should 
be,  to  leave  the  strongest,  deepest  impression  we  can  upon  the 
world,  to  leave  it  the  grandest  inspiration  possible.  If  that  can 
be  done  best  by  our  life,  then  God  grant  that  we  may  live.  If 
it  can  be  done  best  by  our  death,  then  death  were  glorious. 


in. 

FoK  God  took  him. 

"  God  took  him."  In  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  following 
the  translation  of  the  Septuagint,  it  is  said, "  Before  his  translation 
he  had  witness  borne  to  him  that  he  had  pleased  God  well." 
Does  not  the  writer  here  imply  that  God  took  him,  because  He 
was  well  pleased  with  him  ? 

^  A  little  girl  was  once  talking  with  another  little  girl  about 
Enoch.  The  second  little  girl  had  never  heard  of  him,  and  so  the 
first,  who  was  rich  in  Bible  stories,  told  her  by  her  mother,  made 
up  a  version  of  the  story  of  Enoch  which  has  a  very  beautiful 
suggestion  in  it.  Said  the  little  girl  to  her  friend,  "God  was 
accustomed  to  take  walks  with  Enoch,  and  one  day  they  went 
further  than  usual,  and  God  said,  '  Enoch,  you  are  a  long  way  from 
home ;  better  come  in  and  stay  with  Me ' ;  so  he  went,  and  has 
stayed  ever  since." 

Came  the  relief.    "What,  Sentry,  ho! 

How  passed  the  night  through  thy  long  waking?" 
"  Cold,  cheerless,  dark, — as  may  befit 

The  hour  before  the  dawn  is  breaking." 


GENESIS  V.  24  161 

"No  sight?  no   sound?"     "No;  nothing  save 
The  plover  from  the  marshes  calling, 

And  in  yon  western  sky,  about 
An  hour  ago,  a  star  was  falling." 

"A  star?     There's  nothing  strange  in  that." 
"No,  nothing;  but  above  the  thicket 

Somehow  it  seemed  to  me  that  God 
Somewhere  had  just  relieved  a  picket."* 

"  God  took  him "  means  Victory.  This  is  the  thought  which 
persists  in  one's  mind  after  one  looks  at  the  picture  of  Enoch. 
Eemembering  the  context,  and  how  the  biography  of  Enoch  stands 
out  in  unique  grandeur  amongst  those  of  the  other  men  who  died, 
we  cannot  miss  the  purpose  of  the  sacred  writer.  We  may  say 
that  the  Old  Testament  saints  met  death  with  grim  resignation, 
but  we  cannot  say  with  hope.  The  desire  of  escaping  death,  or 
"overleaping  Sheol,"  is  constantly  re-echoed  by  the  Psalmists. 
Here  we  have  a  foreshadowing  of  that  complete  victory  which 
can  only  be  won  in  Christ. 

(1)  Now,  we  know  that  for  us  death  is  inevitable.  Christ  has 
not  taken  away  death,  but  He  has  passed  through  it. 

Christ  leads  me  through  no  darker  rooms 

Than  He  went  through  before; 
He  that  into  God's  kingdom  comes 

Must  enter  by  this  door.* 

(2)  But  Christ  has  conquered  the  power  of  death  h/  taking 
away  its  sting.  St.  Paul  says,  "  The  sting  of  death  is  sin  .  .  .  but 
thanks  be  to  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ"  (1  Cor.  xv.  56,  57). 

(3)  And  we  must  never  forget  the  principle  which  these  words 
of  St.  Paul  teach  us — our  share  in  the  conquest.  Christ  has 
taken  away  the  sting  of  death.  God  will  give  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Let  us  learn  our  lesson  from 
Enoch :  he  began  his  walk  with  God  on  earth.  "  By  faith  Enoch 
was  translated." 

^  I  do  not  know  to  what  extent  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  read 
at  the  present  time,  but  I  never  return  to  it  without  wonder  at 

»  Bret  Harte.  *  Richard  Bai<tef. 

CEN.-NUM. —  II 


i62  WALKING  WITH  GOD 

the  genius  and  insight  which  it  displays.  I  should  be  delighted 
to  quote  the  whole  of  its  wonderful  closing  scenes,  but  those  who 
are  familiar  with  them  will  be  grateful  to  me  for  two  paragraphs 
which  I  quote,  especially  for  the  last  sentence,  with  its  very 
direct  bearing  on  the  value  and  power  of  faith  in  the  last  crisis, 
and  because  of  their  reference  to  the  subject  of  this  chapter. 

"  Now  I  further  saw,  that  betwixt  them  and  the  Gate  was  a 
Eiver,  but  there  was  no  Bridge  to  go  over ;  the  River  was  very 
deep  ;  at  the  sight  therefore  of  this  River  the  Pilgrims  were  much 
stunned,  but  the  men  that  went  with  them,  said,  You  must  go 
through,  or  you  cannot  come  at  the  Gate. 

"The  Pilgrims  then  began  to  enquire  if  there  was  no  other 
way  to  the  Gate ;  to  which  they  answered  Yes,  but  there  hath  not 
any  save  two,  to  wit,  Enoch  and  Elijah,  been  permitted  to  tread 
that  path,  since  the  foundation  of  the  World,  nor  shall,  until 
the  last  Trumpet  shall  sound.  The  Pilgrims  then,  especially 
Christian,  began  to  despond  in  their  mind,  and  looked  this  way 
and  that,  but  no  way  could  be  found  by  them,  by  which  they  might 
escape  the  River.  Then  they  asked  the  men  if  the  waters  were  all 
of  a  depth  ?  they  said  No ;  yet  tehy  could  not  help  them  in  that 
case ;  for,  said  they,  You  shall  find  it  deeper,  or  shallower,  as  you 
believe  in  the  King  of  the  place"  * 

Death,  thou  wast  once  an  uncouth  hideous  thing, 
Nothing  but  bones. 
The  sad  effect  of  sadder  grones: 
Thy  mouth  was  open,  but  thou  couldst  not  sing. 

For  we  consider'd  thee  as  at  some  six 
Or  ten  years  hence, 
After  the  losse  of  life  and  sense; 
Flesh  being  turn'd  to  dust,  and  bones  to  sticks. 

We  lookt  on  this  side  of  thee,  shooting  short. 
Where  we  did  finde 
The  shells  of  fledge-souls  left  behinde; 
Dry  dust,  which  sheds  no  tears,  but  may  extort. 

But  since  our  Saviour's  death  did  put  some  bloud 
Into  thy  face, 
Thou  art  grown  fair  and  full  of  grace. 
Much  in  request,  much  sought  for,  as  a  good. 

1  A.  S.  Poake,  The  Heroes  and  Martyr*  0/ Faith,  A6. 


GENESIS  V.  24  163 

For  we  do  now  behold  thee  gay  and  glad, 
As  at  doom's-day, 
When  souls  shall  wear  their  new  aray, 
And  all  thy  bones  with  beautie  shall  be  clad. 

Therefore  we  can  go  die  as  sleep,  and  trust 
Half  that  we  have 
Unto  an  honest  faithfull  grave, 
Making  our  pillows  either  down  or  dust.* 

^  George  Herbert. 


The  Rainbow. 


165 


Literature. 

Bamford  (A.  J.),  Things  that  are  Made,  105. 
Banks  (L.  A.),  The  Great  Promises  of  the  Bible,  268. 
Davies  (D.),  Talks  with  Men,  Women,  and  Children,  v.  301 
Gunsaulus  (F.  W.),  Paths  to  the  City  of  God,  112. 
Howatt  (J.  R.),  The  Children's  Pew,  31. 
Joseph  (M.),  The  Ideal  in  Judaism,  142. 
Kingsley  (C),  Gospel  of  the  Pentateuch,  51. 

„  National  Sermxins,  423. 

Morrison  (G.  H.),  Flood-tide,  I7a 
Parker  (J.),  Peoples  Bible,  i.  168. 
Smellie  (A.),  In  the  Secret  Place,  272. 
Vaughan  (C.  J.),  Christ  the  Light  of  the  World,  133. 
Winterbotham  (R.),  Sermans  in  Holy  Trinity  Church,  76. 
Wiseman  (N.),  Children's  Sermons,  158. 

Christian  TVorld  Pulpit,  xxvii.  97  (Kempe)  ;  xlviii.  91  (Abbott). 
Old  and  New  Testament  Student,  z.  274  (Denio). 


i66 


The  Rainbow. 

I  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud,  and  it  shall  be  for  a  token  of  a  covenant 
between  me  and  the  earth. — Gen.  ix.  13. 

The  Flood  was  a  judgment.  The  record  of  it  is  "written  for 
our  admonition,  upon  whom  the  ends  of  the  world  are  come." 
When  sin  reaches  a  certain  point,  it  demands  the  inter- 
position of  God.  It  is  so  in  individual  life.  "  God  is  provoked 
every  day."  He  is  long-suffering  and  of  great  pity.  He  gives 
a  thousand  chances.  He  calls  and  calls  again.  He  reproves 
gently.  He  rebukes  sternly.  He  chastens  tenderly.  He  smites 
severely.  Every  sinful  career  is  marked  by  such  gradations  of 
discipline.  At  last  the  cup  is  full.  Long  trifled  with,  "  God  is 
not  mocked " ;  and  he  who  would  not  have  Him  for  his  Father 
must  at  last  know  Him  as  his  Judge.  It  is  so  with  in- 
dividual lives,  and  it  is  so  with  the  life  of  communities,  and 
of  the  world. 

But  the  record  of  judgment  passes  into  a  record  of  mercy. 
Like  all  God's  judgments,  it  was  tempered  with  mercy.  Noah 
buUded  an  altar  unto  the  Lord,  and  offered  burnt-offerings  on  the 
altar,  then  the  Lord  "smelled  a  sweet  savour,  and  said  in  his 
heart,  I  will  not  again  curse  the  ground  any  more  for  man's 
sake;  for  the  imagination  of  man's  heart  is  evil  from  his 
youth;  neither  will  I  again  smite  any  more  every  thing  living, 
as  I  have  done.  While  the  earth  remaineth,  seed-time  and 
harvest,  and  cold  and  heat,  and  summer  and  winter,  and  day 
and  night  shall  not  cease."  And  therefore  God  formed  a  cove- 
nant with  Noah,  making  the  rainbow  the  visible  sign  of  it: 
"And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  when  I  bring  a  cloud  over  the 
earth,  that  the  bow  shall  be  seen  in  the  cloud,  and  I  will 
remember  my  covenant  which  is  between  me  and  you  and  every 
living  thing  of  all  flesh." 


i68  THE  RAINBOW 

Still  young  and  fine !  but  what  is  still  in  view 
We  slight  as  old  and  soil'd,  though  fresh  and  new. 
How  bright  wert  thou,  when  Shem's  admiring  eye 
Thy  burnisht,  flaming  Arch  did  first  descry ! 
When  Terah,  Nahor,  Haran,  Ahram,  Lot, 
The  youthful  world's  gray  fathers  in  one  knot, 
Did  with  intentive  looks  watch  every  hour 
For  thy  new  light,  and  trembled  at  each  shower! 
When  thou  dost  shine  darkness  looks  white  and  fair, 
Storms  turn  to  Musick,  clouds  to  smiles  and  air, 
Eain  gently  spends  his  honey-drops,  and  pours 
Balm  on  the  cleft  earth,  milk  on  grass  and  flowers. 
Bright  pledge  of  peace  and  sun-shine!  the  sure  tye 
Of  thy  Lord's  hand,  the  object  of  His  eye! 
When  I  behold  thee,  though  my  light  be  dim. 
Distant,  and  low,  I  can  in  thine  see  Him, 
Who  looks  upon  thee  from  His  glorious  throne, 
And  mindes  the  Covenant  'twixt  All  and  One} 


The  Eainbow. 

1.  What  is  it  that  makes  the  rainbow?  You  must  have 
a  cloud  or  rain,  and  you  must  have  light.  Now,  every  drop  of 
rain  is  a  little  prism.  The  prism  divides  the  pure  ray  of  light 
into  its  several  parts.  You  know  that  if  you  mix  all  the  colours 
together  you  get  what  we  call  white.  And  if  you  were  to  mix 
together  all  the  colours  that  are  in  the  rainbow,  that  is  to  reunite 
them,  so  that  they  blended  together  perfectly,  you  would  have 
the  pure  ray  of  light.  All  those  hues  are  only  different  parts 
of  the  pure  white  ray.  And  so  whenever  you  see  one  of  those 
colours  appear  through  the  prism,  you  may  depend  upon  it,  it  is 
because  the  prism  has  divided  the  pure  ray  of  light,  and  has  let 
you  have  only  a  portion  of  it. 

-^  The  rainbow  does  in  another  way  what  the  flower  does  in 
the  garden.  It  is  another  way,  but  with  a  similar  result.  You 
have  a  beautiful  rose,  it  may  be,  in  your  garden ;  how  charming 
it  is  in  scent  and  colour !  Well,  what  does  that  rose  do  ?  It 
takes  in  the  light  of  the  sun.  Yes,  but  not  all  of  it:  it  takes 
certain  hues  of  that  light ;  and  what  it  does  not  take  in,  it  gives 

^  Henry  Vaughan, 


GENESIS  IX.  13  169 

back  again.  Now  that  which  makes  it  beautiful  is  not  what  it 
takes  in,  but  what  it  reflects  back  again.  So  that  the  flower  is 
beautiful  because  it  is  not  selfish  enough  to  take  to  itself  all  the 
light  of  the  sun  that  descends  upon  it.  The  prism  is  in  that 
respect  even  more  self-denying  than  the  flower,  because  it  does 
not  take  any  colour  to  itself,  but  sends  all  the  colours  forth  at 
diiferent  angles ;  and  of  these  one  colour  or  more  reaches  your 
eye.i 

^  I  find  the  explanations  of  science  very  interesting,  and  I  do 
not  find  that  they  necessarily  destroy  the  realities  of  faith.  My 
rainbow  is  not  less  beautiful  to  me  when  I  have  learned  how  it  is 
formed,  nor  need  it  tell  me  less  of  God.  May  it  not  indeed  tell 
me  more  ?    Thomas  Hood's  lines — 

I  remember,  I  remember 

The  fir  trees  dark  and  high; 
I  used  to  think  their  slender  tops 

Were  close  against  the  sky; 
It  was  a  childish  ignorance, 

But  now  'tis  little  joy 
To  know  I'm  farther  off  from  heaven 

Than  when  I  was  a  boy, 

have  a  pathos  which  we  all  feel,  and  yet  may  we  not  urge  that 
they  are  based  on  a  misconception  ?  Do  not  I  now  know  heaven 
to  be  nearer,  not  farther  off,  than  I  thought  it  was  when  a  boy  ? 
Surely  it  is  now  nearer  to  me  than  the  fir-tops ! 

I  grieve  not  that  ripe  Knowledge  takes  away 
The  charm  that  Nature  to  my  childhood  wore, 

For,  with  that  insight,  cometh,  day  by  day, 
A  greater  bliss  than  wonder  was  before.^ 

2.  The  business  of  science  is  to  observe  and  to  experiment,  to 
understand  and  to  explain,  not  to  go  into  raptures ;  and  she  finds 
matter  to  observe  in  the  clods  as  in  the  clouds,  in  the  freckled 
skin  of  a  toad  as  in  the  cheek  of  the  fairest  of  Eve's  daughters. 
She  ignores  my  feeling  of  the  beauty  of  the  rainbow.  To  her  the 
purest  blues  and  the  softest  rose-tints  are  simply  examples  of 
decomposed  light,  incomplete  light.  It  is  the  colourless — 
containing  all  colour — that  is  complete,  the  sunlight  that  is  ever 
and  everywhere  streaming  upon  and  into  our  life.  And  may  I 
1  D.  D»TieB.  *  ▲.  J.  Bamford. 


I70  THE  RAINBOW 

not  welcome  this  fact  and  gather  comfort  from  it  ?  So  gracious 
has  God  ever  been  that  I  will  not  forthwith  assume  that  He 
could  not  appoint  as  His  token  what  may,  in  a  sense,  be  termed 
imperfect.  He  manifests  Himself  in  ways  adapted  to  our 
receptive  powers,  and  if  our  attention  is  more  readily  arrested 
by  the  more  exceptional  than  by  the  more  usual,  He  may 
graciously  make  the  more  exceptional  His  sign.  But  how 
comfortable  a  thought  that  it  is  the  imperfect  that  is  exceptional 
and  rtie  complete  that  is  common !  The  decomposed  light  is  seen 
under  certain  special  conditions ;  the  perfect  light  is  ever  being 
poured  upon  our  daily  tasks. 

^  Quite  recently  I  happened  to  pass  through  one  of  the  most 
crowded  parts  of  Loudon,  when,  of  a  sudden,  a  rainbow  of 
wondrously  intense  colour  and  of  unusually  perfect  form  became 
visible,  and  changed  the  whole  prosaic  scene.  It  was  marvellous 
to  see  little  knots  of  busy  people,  their  eager  movement  arrested, 
their  worldly  preoccupations  forgotten  for  the  moment,  standing 
in  admiration  before  the  gracious  apparition.  The  rainbow 
lingered  but  for  a  brief  space,  and  then  slowly  faded  away.  But 
it  remained  long  enough  to  tinge  with  a  Divine  splendour  the 
homely  face  of  the  city,  to  cheer  many  a  heart  with  a  vision  of 
rare  beauty,  nay,  to  create  the  thought  that  God  does  not 
abandon  any  part  of  His  world,  or  wholly  sever  the  bonds  of  love 
that  link  Him  to  His  human  children.^ 

^  Poor  Thomas  Carlyle,  dyspeptic  and  morose,  once  looked  up 

at  the  stars  and  said,  with  a  growl,  "It  is  a  sad  sight ! "     But  a 

^y      little  girl  looked  up  at  the  same  sight  and  said,  "  Mamma,  if  the 

wrong  side  of  heaven  is  so  fine,  how  very  beautiful  the  right  side 

must  be! "2 

3.  The  rainbow  is  chiefly  suggestive  of  thoughts  either  (1)  of 
mystery  or  (2)  of  joy  and  sorrow. 

(1)  Mystery. — There  is  no  more  striking  illustration  of  the 
vast  difference  between  the  religion  of  the  Bible  and  that  of  the 
ancient  pagan  world  than  is  afforded  by  their  respective  explana- 
tions of  the  rainbow.  A  phenomenon  so  remarkable  would 
naturally  excite  the  wonder  and  curiosity  of  primeval  man.  Its 
mystic  beauty,  the  rarity  of  its  appearance,  the  fact  that  it  had 
the  heavens  for  its  scene,  almost  inevitably  invested  it  with  a 
supernatural  significance.      The    old    mythology,   as   we    know, 

'  Morris  Joseph.  '  L.  A.  Banks. 


GENESIS  IX.   13  171 

discerned  a  god  in  every  wonder  of  Nature ;  and  therefore  it  is 
not  surprising  to  find  that  for  the  ancient  Greeks  the  rainbow 
was  the  visible  representative  of  a  golden-winged  maiden  who 
attended  the  Lord  and  Mistress  of  Heaven,  and  carried  their 
messages  to  mortals.  According  to  one  account,  Iris  is  actually 
changed  into  the  beautiful  rainbow  as  a  reward  for  her  services ; 
according  to  another,  the  rainbow  is  but  the  glittering  ladder  by 
which  she  descends  from  the  sky  to  do  her  errands  on  earth. 
Now,  contrast  this  myth,  graceful,  yet  lacking  the  true  religious 
spirit,  with  the  interpretation  of  the  rainbow  given  in  Genesis. 
Here  the  phenomenon  is  made  to  tell  a  story  of  the  Divine  love 
for  all  the  world — a  story  which  breathes  comfort  into  every 
heart  that  opens  to  receive  its  message. 

^  Rude  and  distant  tribes  agree  in  the  conception  of  the 
Kainbow  as  a  living  monster.  A  New  Zealand  myth,  describing 
the  battle  of  the  Tempest  against  the  Forest,  tells  how  the 
Rainbow  arose  and  placed  his  mouth  close  to  Tane-ma-huta,  the 
Father  of  Trees,  and  continued  to  assault  him  till  his  trunk  was 
snapt  in  two,  and  his  broken  branches  strewed  the  ground.  It  is 
not  only  in  mere  nature-myth  like  this,  but  in  actual  awe-struck 
belief  and  terror,  that  the  idea  of  the  Hve  Rainbow  is  worked  out. 
The  Karens  of  Burma  say  it  is  a  spirit  or  demon.  "  The  Rainbow 
can  devour  men.  .  .  .  When  it  devours  a  person,  he  dies  a  sudden 
or  violent  death.  All  persons  that  die  badly,  by  falls,  by  drowning, 
or  by  wild  beasts,  die  because  the  Rainbow  has  devoured  their 
ka-la,  or  spirit.  On  devouring  persons  it  becomes  thirsty  and 
comes  down  to  drink,  when  it  is  seen  in  the  sky  drinking  water. 
Therefore  when  people  see  the  Rainbow,  they  say,  "  The  Rainbow 
has  come  to  drink  water:  look  out,  some  one  or  other  will  die 
violently  by  an  evil  death."  If  children  are  playing,  their  parents 
will  say  to  them,  "  The  Rainbow  has  come  down  to  drink :  play 
no  more,  lest  some  accident  should  happen  to  you."  And  after 
the  Rainbow  has  been  seen,  if  any  fatal  accident  happens  to 
any  one,  it  is  said  the  Rainbow  has  devoured  him.  The  Zulu  ideas 
correspond  in  a  curious  way  with  these.  The  Rainbow  lives  with 
a  snake,  that  is,  where  it  is  there  is  also  a  snake ;  or  it  is  like  a 
sheep,  and  dwells  in  a  pool.  When  it  touches  the  earth,  it  is 
drinking  at  a  pool.  Men  are  afraid  to  wash  in  a  large  pool ;  they 
say  there  is  a  Rainbow  in  it,  and  if  a  man  goes  in,  it  catches  and 
eats  him.  The  Rainbow,  coming  out  of  a  river  or  pool,  and 
resting  on  the  ground,  poisons  men  whom  it  meets,  affecting 
them  with  eruptions.     Men  say,  "  The  Rainbow  is  disease.     If  it 


172  THE  RAINBOW 

rests  on  a  man,  something  will  happen  to  him."  Lastly,  in 
Dahome,  Danh  the  Heavenly  Snake,  which  makes  the  Popo  beads 
and  confers  wealth  on  man,  is  the  Eainbow.^ 

Suddenly 
The  rain  and  the  wind  ceased,  and  the  sky 
Keceived  at  once  the  full  fruition 
Of  the  moon's  consummate  apparition. 
The  black  cloud-barricade  was  riven, 
Ruined  beneath  her  feet,  and  driven 
Deep  in  the  West;  while,  bare  and  breathless, 

North  and  South  and  East  lay  ready 
For  a  glorious  thing  that,  dauntless,  deathless, 

Sprang  across  them  and  stood  steady. 
'Twas  a  moon-rainbow,  vast  and  perfect, 
From  heaven  to  heaven  extending,  perfect 
As  the  mother-moon's  self,  full  in  face. 
It  rose,  distinctly  at  the  base 

With  its  seven  proper  colours  chorded. 
Which  still,  in  the  rising,  were  compressed, 
Until  at  last  they  coalesced, 

And  supreme  the  spectral  creature  lorded 
In  a  triumph  of  whitest  white, — 
Above  which  intervened  the  night. 
But  above  night  too,  like  only  the  next, 

The  second  of  a  wondrous  sequence, 

Eeaching  in  rare  and  rarer  frequence. 
Till  the  heaven  of  heavens  were  circumflexed, 
Another  rainbow  rose,  a  mightier, 
Fainter,  flushier  and  flightier, — 
Eapture  dying  along  its  verge. 
Oh,  whose  foot  shall  I  see  emerge, 
Whose,  from  the  straining  topmost  dark, 
On  to  the  keystone  of  that  arc? 

He  was  there. 

He  himself  with  his  human  air.* 

(2)  Sorrow  and  Joy. — The  devastating  waters,  concerning 
which  God  has  made  with  men  His  covenant  of  mercy,  are  the 
waters  of  sorrow.  These,  too,  have  their  bounds  set  them  by 
the  Divine  hand.     To  them  the  fiat  goes  forth :  thus  far  and  no 

^  E.  B.  Tylor,  Primitive  Culture,  i.  298. 

'  Browning,  Ch/ristTruu-JSve  cund  EcuUr-Day,  Ti. 


GENESIS  IX.   13  173 

farther,  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed.  The  torrent 
of  affliction  may  swell  and  rise,  and  toss  the  heart  on  its  heaving 
bosom;  but  God  sits  above  the  flood,  enthroned  for  ever,  and 
under  His  restraining  hand  it  is  not  suflfered  to  overflow  or  to 
deal  utter  ruin.  This  is  the  message  of  the  rainbow — that  smile 
set  in  the  still  frowning  heavens.  It  is  the  message  echoed  by 
the  Psalmist's  confession :  "  God  hath  chastened  me  very  sore ; 
but  he  hath  not  given  me  over  unto  death." 

The  rainbow  is  a  child  of  the  storm ;  and  it  is  very  beautiful. 
It  springs  out  of  the  conflict  between  light  and  darkness;  it  is 
caused  by  the  sun  of  heaven  shining  upon  the  fast-dripping  tears 
of  earth.  It  tells,  and  will  always  teU,  that  nothing  very 
beautiful  ever  comes  to  pass  in  human  life,  except  there  be 
sorrow.  It  tells,  and  will  always  tell,  that  sorrow  alcme  cannot 
give  birth  to  this  beauty  of  human  life  and  character.  It  needs 
the  fast-falling  tears  of  sorrow  and  sadness  below ;  but  it  needs 
also  the  sunshine,  the  light,  and  the  glory,  from  heaven  above. 
People  are  always  wondering  why  there  should  be  sorrow  and 
suffering ;  why  human  tears  should  flow  so  freely.  There  really 
is  not  any  answer  but  what  the  rainbow  gives,  or  at  least 
suggests.  Say  what  you  like;  be  as  impatient  of  sufferiag  as 
you  will ;  you  will  yet  have  to  acknowledge,  as  a  fact,  that  in 
human  character  there  is  hardly  anything  very  beautiful,  very 
attractive,  but  it  has  suffering  for  a  necessary  condition ;  suffering 
lighted  up  by  love. 

Through  gloom  and  shadow  look  we 

On  beyond  the  years; 
The  soul  would  have  no  rainbow 

Had  the  eyes  no  tears. 

1  We  are  like  him  of  whom  the  poet  sings — 

Eesolve 
Upbore  him,  and  firm  faith,  and  evermore 
Prayer  from  a  living  source  within  the  will, 
And  beating  up  thro'  all  the  bitter  world. 
Like  fountains  of  sweet  water  in  the  sea, 
Kept  him  a  living  soul. 

We  hear  of  those  upon  whom  there  has  fallen  some  sorrow 
which  seems  calculated  to  destroy  all  the  worth  of  life.  "He 
will  never  be  the  same  man ;  she  will  never  be  the  same  woman 


174  THE  RAINBOW 

again  " — so  we  exclaim.  And  yet,  though  the  stricken  ones  reel 
under  the  blow,  they  do  not  fall,  or  if  they  fall  they  rise  again. 
Some  secret  well-spring  within  is  opened,  and  pours  forth  its 
healing  stream.^ 

H  An  old  couple,  who  greatly  glorified  God  by  their  glad  lives, 
were  asked  :  "  And  have  you  never  any  clouds  ? "  "  Clouds  ! " 
said  the  old  woman,  "  Clouds !  Why,  yes  indeed,  else  where 
would  all  the  blessed  showers  come  from  ? "  * 

IF  A  friend  of  mine  yesterday,  when  he  was  told  there  was  a 
rainbow,  looked  for  it  in  the  direction  of  the  sun.  He  evidently 
did  not  know  better.  God  never  puts  rainbows  in  the  direction 
of  the  light.  There  is  no  need  of  them  so  long  as  you  can  see 
the  sun  shining  as  gloriously  as  it  did  yesterday  afternoon.  It 
is  when  you  have  to  look  at  the  cloud  that  you  want  a  rainbow. 
Thus  you  will  always  find  that  if  the  sun  is  in  the  east  the 
rainbow  is  in  the  west.     Hence  the  old  saying — 

The  rainbow  in  the  morning 
Is  the  shepherd's  warning; 
The  rainbow  at  night 
Is  the  shepherd's  delight.' 

n. 

The  Rainbow  as  a  Sign. 

L  Symbols. 

In  times  when  contracts  were  not  reduced  to  writing,  it  was 
customary,  on  the  occasion  of  solemn  vows,  promises,  and  other 
"covenant"  transactions,  to  appoint  a  sign,  that  the  parties 
might  at  the  proper  time  be  reminded  of  the  covenant,  and  a 
breach  of  its  observance  be  averted- 

It  has  been  said  that  a  "sign  is  a  thing  which,  over  and 
above  the  impression  which  it  makes  upon  the  senses,  causes 
something  else  to  come  into  the  mind."  Anything,  therefore, 
can  be  taken  as  a  sign :  e.g.  a  stone  which  has  in  itself  no 
meaning  or  value,  may  be  used  as  marking  the  boundary  of  a 
field.  Not  such  is  this  sign.  There  is  a  principle  here  the 
same  as  that  in  those  parables  which  take  some  object  in  nature 
or  some  fact  in  the  physical  world  to  symbolize  the  spiritual  truth 
or  fact,  and  which  are  properly  called  symbolic  parables.  It  is 
'  M.  Joseph.  »  H.  S.  Dyer.  »  D.  Darie*. 


GENESIS  IX.   13  175 

such  a  principle  that  gives  the  wonderful  comfort  found  in  the 
125th  Psalm.  This  rainbow  had  a  fitness  for  the  purpose  to 
which  it  was  applied,  for  after  the  appearance  of  an  entire 
rainbow,  as  a  rule  no  rain  of  long  duration  follows;  and  the 
darker  the  background  the  more  bright  does  it  appear.  As 
such  a  sign  doubtless  Noah  already  knew  it.  A  harbinger  of  the 
cessation  of  a  storm  was  a  fitting  symbol  of  the  close  of  that 
flood  which  was  never  to  be  repeated.  The  beautiful  object 
which  already  had  a  natural  adaptation  to  its  purpose  "God 
consecrated  as  the  sign  of  His  love  and  witness  of  His  promise." 

^  Have  not  I  myself  known  five  hundred  living  soldiers 
sabred  into  crows'-meat  for  a  piece  of  glazed  cotton,  which 
they  called  their  Flag ;  which,  had  you  sold  it  at  any  market- 
cross,  would  not  have  brought  above  three  groschen  ?  Did  not 
the  whole  Hungarian  nation  rise,  like  some  tumultuous  moon- 
stirred  Atlantic,  when  Kaiser  Joseph  pocketed  their  Iron  Crown ; 
an  implement,  as  was  sagaciously  observed,  in  size  and  commercial 
value  little  differing  from  a  horse-shoe?  It  is  in  and  through 
Symbols  that  man,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  lives,  works, 
and  has  his  being :  those  ages,  moreover,  are  accounted  the 
noblest  which  can  the  best  recognize  symbolical  worth,  and 
prize  it  the  highest.  For  is  not  a  Symbol  ever,  to  him  who 
has  eyes  for  it,  some  dimmer  or  clearer  revelation  of  the 
Godhke?! 

I  Nature  everywhere  bears  the  touch  of  God.  The  vast 
universe  is  a  collection  of  tokens;  the  whole  system  of  worlds 
is  a  revelation  of  Divine  covenants  which  the  invisible  God 
desires  to  publish.  There  are  hours  when  one  feels  this  and 
sings — 

0  earth!  thou  hast  not  any  wind  which  blows, 

That  is  not  music;  every  reed  of  thine. 

Pressed  rightly,  flows  with  aromatic  wine. 

And  every  humble  hedge-row  flower  that  grows, 

And  every  little  brown  bird  that  doth  sing. 

Hath  something  greater  than  itself,  and  bears 

A  living  word  to  every  living  thing. 

Albeit  it  holds  its  message  unawares. 

All  shapes  and  sounds  have  something  which 

Is  not  of  them;  a  spirit  broods  amidst  the  grass; 

Vague  outlines  of  the  everlasting  thought 

lie  in  the  melting  shadows  as  they  pass ;  » 

^  Oarlyle,  Sartor  Resartus,  bk.  iii.  ch.  S 


176  THE  RAINBOW 

The  touch  of  an  Eternal  Presence  thrills 

The  fringes  of  the  sunsets  and  the  hills. 

Sometimes  (we  know  not  how,  nor  why,  nor  whence) 

The  twitter  of  the  swallow  'neath  the  eaves, 

The  shimmer  of  the  light  among  the  leaves, 

Will  strike  up  through  the  thick  roots  of  our  sense 

And  show  us  things  which  seers  and  sages  saw 

In  the  green  earth's  gray  dawn;  something  doth  stir 

Like  organ-rhymes  within  us  and  doth  awe 

Our  pulses  into  listening,  and  confer 

Burdens  of  being  on  us;  and  we  ache 

With  weights  of  revelations;  and  our  earg 

Hear  voices  from  the  Infinite  that  take 

The, hushed  soul  captive. 

^  Very  beautiful  is  this  idea  of  God  giving  us  something  to 
look  at,  in  order  to  keep  our  faith  steady.  He  knows  that  we 
need  pictures,  and  rests,  and  voices,  and  signs,  and  these  He  has 
well  supplied.  We  might  have  forgotten  the  word,  but  we 
cannot  fail  to  see  the  how ;  every  child  sees  't,  and  exclaims  at 
the  sight  with  glad  surprise.  If  any  one  would  tell  the  child 
the  sweet  meaning  of  the  bow,  it  might  move  his  soul  to  a 
still  higher  ecstasy !  And  so  with  all  other  things  God  has 
given  us  as  signs  and  tokens:  the  sacred  Book,  the  water  of 
Baptism,  the  bread  and  wine,  the  quiet  Sabbath,  the  house  of 
prayer; — all  these  have  deeper  meanings  than  are  written  in 
their  names;  search  for  those  meanings,  keep  them,  and  you 
will  be  rich.^ 

ii.  A  Token  of  a  Covenant 

1.  The  covenant  is  that  there  shall  not  be  any  more  a  flood 
to  destroy  the  earth,  and  the  token  of  the  covenant  is  the  bow 
in  the  cloud.  But  was  there  not  a  rainbow  before  there  was  a 
flood?  Of  course  there  was.  You  do  not  suppose  that  the 
rainbow  was  made  on  purpose?  There  were  rainbows,  it  may 
be,  thousands  of  ages  before  man  was  created,  certainly  from 
the  time  that  the  sun  and  the  rain  first  knew  each  other.  But 
old  forms  may  be  put  to  new  uses.  Physical  objects  may  be 
clothed  with  moral  meanings.  The  stars  in  heaven  and  the 
sand  by  the  seashore  may  come  to  be  to  Abraham  as  a  family 
register.     One   day  common   bread   may  be   turned   into   sacra- 

i  Joseph  Parker. 


GENESIS  IX.  13  177 

mental  food,  and  ordinary  wine  may  become  as  the  blood  of 
atonement!  The  rainbow  which  was  once  nothing  but  a  thing 
of  evanescent  beauty,  created  by  the  sun  and  the  rain,  hence- 
forward became  the  token  of  a  covenant  and  was  sacred  as  a 
revelation  from  heaven.  When  you  Kved  in  a  rich  English 
county  the  song  of  the  lark  was  nothing  to  you,  it  was  so 
familiar;  you  had  heard  the  dinning  trill  of  a  hundred  larks 
in  the  morning  air ;  but  when  you  went  out  to  the  far-away 
colony,  and  for  years  did  not  hear  the  voice  of  a  single  home 
bird,  you  suddenly  caught  the  note  of  a  lark  just  brought  to 
the  land,  and  the  tears  of  boyhood  streamed  down  your  cheeks 
as  you  listened  to  the  little  messenger  from  home.  To  hear  it 
was  like  hearing  a  gospel.  From  that  day  the  lark  was  to  you 
as  the  token  of  a  covenant ! 

^  In  speaking  to  Noah  God  did  not  then  create  the  bow ;  He 
turned  it  into  the  sign  of  a  holy  bond.  The  fear  is  that  we  may 
have  the  bond  and  not  the  oath.  We  may  see  physical  causes 
producing  physical  effects,  and  yet  may  see  no  moral  significa- 
tion passing  through  the  common  scenery  of  earth  and  sky. 
Cultivate  the  spirit  of  moral  interpretation  if  you  would  be 
wise  and  restful;  then  the  rainbow  will  keep  away  the  flood; 
the  fowls  of  the  air  will  save  you  from  anxiety ;  and  the  lilies 
of  the  field  will  give  you  an  assurance  of  tender  care.  Why, 
everything  is  yours !  The  daisy  you  trod  upon  just  now  was 
telling  you  that  if  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field  He  will 
much  more  clothe  the  child  that  bears  Hia  own  image.^ 

2.  The  phenomenon  has  actually  no  existence  unless  there  is 
an  eye  to  see  it.  Not  that  the  eye  in  any  sense  designed  or  can 
create  it,  for  there  must  be  the  raindrops  and  the  sun,  things 
altogether  outside  of,  and  separate  from,  the  beholder,  before  it 
can  come  within  the  sphere  of  possible  existence ;  but  when  it 
has  come  into  that  sphere,  then  it  must,  if  we  may  say  so,  remain 
absolutely  non-existent  until  it  is  brought  into  contact  by  those 
wonderful  processes,  which  it  needs  a  scientific  pen  to  describe, 
with  the  organs  which  convey  the  perception  to  the  brain.  Now, 
this  is  a  very  close  and  a  very  complete  type  of  what  we  may 
understand  to  have  taken  place  immediately  after  the  deluge 
in  the  case  of  the  same  phenomenon.  It  may  be  said  to  have 
then  come  into  existence  for  the  first  time ;  but  how  ?     In  its 

*  Joseph  Parker, 
GEN.-NUM. — 12 


178  THE  RAINBOW 

higher  character  of  a  token,  of  a  covenant  between  God  and  man. 
It  was  then  made,  and  it  then  became  capable  of  being  seen  in 
that  view  by  the  eye  of  faith,  and  it  would  need  the  eye  of 
faith  80  to  see  it — that  is,  in  the  same  sense ;  it  would  need  the 
eye  of  faith  to  bring  it  into  being  as  the  token  of  a  covenant 
between  God  and  man.  The  eye  of  faith  had  not  to  create  it  in 
that  character.  To  suppose  that  would  be  to  confound  between 
faith  and  imagination.  Its  creation  was  altogether  God's,  entirely 
outside  of,  and  separate  from,  any  action,  faculties,  or  powers  that 
man  could  bring  to  bear  upon  it.  Neither  the  rain  nor  the  sun- 
shine, nor  the  background  of  cloud  whereon  to  paint  the  image, 
was  in  any  way  directly  or  indirectly  produced  by  hand  of  man 
or  controllable  by  the  will  of  man ;  but  still,  until  man  looked 
upon  it,  not  only  with  a  seeing  eye  but  also  with  a  believing 
spirit,  its  existence  as  the  token  of  the  covenant  was  no  more 
capable  of  proof  than  is  the  presence  of  Christ  in  any  church  at 
any  moment. 

^  It  is  a  quaint  idea  of  the  Rabbins  that  in  an  age  conspicuous 
for  righteousness  the  rainbow  is  not  visible ;  the  virtuous,  they 
say,  are  a  sufficient  sign  that  God  remembers  His  covenant.  And 
truly  it  is  man's  mercy  to  man  that  is  the  most  eloquent  witness 
of  the  Divine  love.  Every  pang  assuaged  by  human  agency, 
every  soothing,  encouraging  word  that  is  spoken  to  still  the 
complaining,  to  strengthen  the  despairing,  spirit,  every  deed  of 
true  charity,  every  grasp  of  a  friend's  hand,  every  ray  of  light 
that  falls  upon  our  life  from  the  soul  of  our  beloved,  is  a 
manifestation  of  God's  mercy.  Those  virtues  of  men  and  women, 
by  the  exercise  of  which  they  bless  one  another,  are  as  truly 
God's  angels  as  are  the  tranquillity  and  the  strength  that  will 
sometimes  mysteriously  find  their  way  into  our  disquieted  hearts, 
coming  we  know  not  whence.^ 

3.  What  God  did  for  Noah  and  his  sons  was  just  to  take  the 
old  familiar  rainbow,  which  was  and  is  merely  one  of  the  occasional 
efifects  of  the  unchanging  laws  of  nature — and  to  make  it  His 
bow:  to  make  it  a  visible  symbol,  a  painted  sacrament,  of  His 
personal  faithfulness  and  love.  That  is  the  great  law  which  rims 
through  all  sacraments.  No  sacramental  thing  is  ever  new  as 
far  as  its  outward  form  and  material  are  concerned.  Our  Saviour 
made  His  own  two  great  sacraments  of  grace  out  of  the  very 

'  Morris  Joseph. 


GENESIS  IX.   13  179 

simplest  and  commonest  and  most  familiar  of  all  actions — the 
pouring  of  clean  water  over  the  body ;  the  partaking  together  of 
bread  and  wine,  themselves  the  most  ordinary  and  universal 
articles  of  diet  in  His  country.  And  He  made  them  effectual 
signs  and  symbols  of  a  grace  which  is  stronger  than  sin,  of  a  love 
which  is  stronger  than  death.  Or  look  again  at  marriage,  which 
is  a  sacrament  of  nature  common  to  the  whole  human  race, 
coming  down  to  us  from  the  Garden  of  Eden.  On  its  natural 
side,  its  historical  side,  it  is  nothing  but  that  instinct  of  "  pairing  " 
which  human  animals  share  with  all  other  animals.  On  its 
supernatural  side,  God  has  chosen  it  from  the  first  to  be  a  "  great 
mystery."  It  is  a  sacrament  of  love  and  grace,  so  e£fectual  that 
out  of  it  all  the  progress  of  mankind  in  refinement  and  in 
civilization  has  sprung;  so  profound,  that  in  it  has  been  fore- 
shadowed and  represented  all  along  that  mystical  union  between 
Christ  and  His  Church,  by  which  we  also  live. 

4.  For  what  purpose  then  was  the  bow  set  in  the  cloud  ?  The 
great  purpose  was  to  be  a  witness  to  God's  Faithfulness.  The 
God  which  the  Book  of  Genesis  goes  on  revealing  and  unveiling 
to  us  more  and  more  is  a  God  in  whom  men  may  trtist.  The 
heathen  could  not  trust  their  gods.  The  Bible  tells  men  of  a 
G^d  whom  they  can  trust.  That  is  just  the  difFerence  between 
the  Bible  and  all  other  books  in  the  world.  But  what  a  difference ! 
Difference  enough  to  make  us  say,  "  Sooner  that  every  other  book 
in  the  world  were  lost,  and  the  Bible  preserved,  than  that  we 
should  lose  the  Bible,  and  with  the  Bible  lose  faith  in 
God." 

In  Calvary's  awful  scene,  we  behold  the  Divine  Faithfulness. 
Clouds  of  sin  have  risen  from  the  earth;  a  shoreless  ocean  of 
despair  has  covered,  the  life  of  man  ;  but  God — the  Faithful  God, 
the  Covenant-keeping  God,  the  God  who  remembers  that  man  is 
His  child,  and  that  in  his  very  constitution  and  life  He  has  left 
pledges  and  intimations  that  help  him  to  look  heavenward  from 
some  ark  of  hope — He  has  not  forgotten,  He  is  keeping  His  word 
of  grace,  and  the  clouds  are  shot  through  and  through  with  the 
power  of  Christ,  the  Sun  of  Kighteousness.  Sin  is  retreating  like 
the  flood,  and  peace,  "My  peace,"  as  Christ  says,  hangs  like  a 
rainbow  above  the  cross  of  Jesus  and  the  life  of  man. 


i8o  THE  RAINBOW 

Not  seldom,  clad  in  radiant  vest, 
Deceitfully  goes  forth  the  Mom; 
Not  seldom  Evening  in  the  west 
Sinks  smilingly  forsworn. 

The  smoothest  seas  will  sometimes  prove, 
To  the  confiding  Bark,  untrue; 
And,  if  she  trust  the  stars  above, 
They  can  be  treacherous  too. 

But  thou  art  true,  incarnate  Lord, 
Who  didst  vouchsafe  for  man  to  die; 
Thy  smile  is  sure,  thy  plighted  word 
No  change  can  falsify ! 

I  bent  before  thy  gracious  throne, 
And  asked  for  peace  on  suppliant  knee; 
And  peace  was  given, — nor  peace  alone, 
But  faith  sublimed  to  ecstasy!* 

^  Wordsworth, 


The  Proving  of  Abraham. 


>8< 


Literature. 

V  Aglionby  (F.  K.),  The  Better  Choice,  10. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  Hidden  Wells  of  Comfort,  130. 
Brooks  (Phillips),  The  More  Abundant  Life,  137. 
Colenso  (J.  W.),  Natal  Sermons,  i.  356. 
Dykes  (J.  0.),  Abraham,  the  Friend  of  God,  243. 
Hessey  (J.  A.),  Moral  Difficulties  connected  vnth  the  Bible,  i.  83. 
Horton  (R.  F.),  Lyndhurst  Road  Pulpit,  103. 
Matheson  (Q.),  Times  of  Reti/rememJt,  184. 
Maurice  (F.  D.),  The  Doctrine  of  Sacrifice,  33. 
Meyer  (F.  B.),  Abraham,  167. 
Morrison  (G.  H.),  The  Footsteps  of  the  Flock,  67. 
Mozley  (J.  B.),  RvMvtg  Ideas  in  Early  Ages,  31,  64. 
Parker  (J.),  Adam,  Noah,  and  Abraham,  169. 
„         Studies  in  Texts,  iv.  188  ;  vi.  181. 
Perowne  (J.  J.  S.),  Sermons,  332. 
Price  (A.  C),  Fifty  Sermons,  x.  193. 
Robertson  (F.  W.),  Notes  on  Genesis,  53. 
Smyth  (N.),  Old  Faiths  in  New  Light,  48. 
Spurgeon  (0.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  xv.  Nos.  868,  869l 

„  CorUemporary  Pulpit  Library,  i,  144. 

Waddell  (R.),  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  28. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  xiv.  228  (Hubbard). 
Expositor,  Ist  Ser.,  i,  314  (Cox)  ;  2nd  Ser.,  i.  305  (Godwin). 
Expository  Times^  iii.  301  (Perowne). 


t»» 


The  Proving  of  Abraham. 

And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that  God  did  prove  Abraham,  and 
said  unto  him,  Abraham;  and  he  said,  Here  am  I.  And  he  said.  Take  now 
thy  son,  thine  only  son,  whom  thou  lovest,  even  Isaac,  and  get  thee  into  the 
land  of  Moriah ;  and  offer  him  there  for  a  burnt  offering  upon  one  of  the 
mountains  which  I  will  tell  thee  of. — Gen.  xxii.  i,  2. 

Few  scenes  in  the  whole  compass  of  the  Bible  are  more  familiar 

than  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac.     We  knew  the  charm  of  it  when  we 

were  children,  and  as  we  recur  to  it,  time  and  again,  amid  the 

deepening  experience  of  the  years,  we  find  that  the  story  has  not 

lost  the  power  and  beauty  that  so  arrested  us  in  bygone  days. 

This  indeed  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  God's  Word,  that  we  never 

leave  it  behind  us  as  we  travel.     With  all  our  growth  through 

activity  and  sorrow,  it  grows  in  richness  of  interpretation.     There 

are  books  which  we  very  speedily  outstrip ;  we  read  them,  and  we 

lay  them  aside  for  a  period,  and  then  we  come  back  to  them  and 

find  them  thin  and  inadequate.     But  with  all  our  growth,  the 

Bible  seems  to  grow ;  coming  back  to  it  we  do  not  find  it  empty ; 

rather  with  the  increasing  knowledge  of  the  years,  and  the  crosses 

and  burdens  they  inevitably  bring,  new  depths  of  Divine  help  and 

wisdom  open  themselves  before  us  in  God's  Word.     It  is  peculiarly 

so  with  such  a  passage  as  this.     We  can  never  exhaust  its  spiritual 

significance.     To  our  childish   ears   it  is  a  delightful  story;  it 

appeals  as  powerfully  as  any  fairy-tale ;  but  gradually  we  come  to 

see  beneath  the  surface,  and  to  discern  the  mind  of  God  within 

the  picture,  untU  at  last  we   reach   the  sweet  assurance  that 

underneath  are  the  everlasting  arms. 

^  Looking  at  the  whole  chapter  as  we  should  at  any  merely 

human  composition,  we  must  admit  that  for  profound  pathos,  for 

tragic  force  of  description,  it  has  never  been  surpassed.     "  Each 

time  that  we  hear  it,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  it  thrills  us  afresh." 

Compare  it  even  with  that  exquisitely  touching  passage  in  the 

"Agamemnon"  of  iEschylus,  which  describes  in  words  of  such 

183 


i84         THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

wonderful  beauty  the  anguish  of  the  father  constrained  to  sacrifice 
his  child,  and  it  vdll  not  suffer  by  the  comparison.  Listen  to  the 
brief  dialogue:  "My  father,  behold  the  fire  and  the  wood,  but 
where  is  the  lamb  for  the  burnt-offering  ? "  "  My  son,  God  will 
provide  himself  the  lamb  for  the  burnt-offering."  The  heart's 
deepest  grief  was  never  more  eloquently  portrayed.  No  sobs,  no 
tears,  no  words  telling  of  the  struggle  within.  The  anguish  lies  too 
deep  for  utterance.  The  sculptor,  when  he  would  express  a  grief 
that  he  could  not  express,  bowed  and  veiled  the  face  of  the  mourner  ; 
and  the  veiling  of  the  agony  here  is  in  fact  its  most  pathetic 
expression.^ 

It  is  most  important  that  this  great  text  should  be  approached 
from  the  right  side.  There  is  a  moral  difficulty  in  it — God's 
command  to  Abraham  to  sacrifice  his  son — which'  arrests  the 
attention  so  strongly  that  it  usually  occupies  the  mind  almost 
entirely.  Accordingly  the  common  title  is  "  the  Sacrifice  of 
Isaac."  But  the  subject  is  the  testing  or  proving  of  faith; 
the  sacrifice  of  Isaac  being  the  special  manner  in  which,  for 
Abraham,  faith  was  tested.  If  we  begin  with  the  proving  of  faith 
we  shall  come  to  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac  when  we  have  understood 
the  reason  for  it.  It  will  then  fall  into  its  proper  place,  and  we 
shall  be  able  to  see  the  moral  difficulty  in  the  light  of  an  eternal 
truth. 


The  Proving  of  Faith. 

1.  First  of  all,  take  the  general  statement  that  Faith  needs  to 
he  tried  or  proved.  Ewald  says:  "That  only  is  a  spiritual  and 
therefore  true  and  abiding  blessing  which  we  are  able  to  make 
our  own  in  the  strife  and  wrestling  of  a  faithful  spirit."  That  is 
to  say,  God's  gifts  are  not  in  the  best  sense  our  own  till  we  have 
been  taught  by  experience  that  they  continue  to  be  His  still.  It 
may  even  be  questioned  whether  in  the  unthreatened  secure 
enjoyment  of  a  great  joy,  there  does  not  always  mingle  some  dash 
of  sin.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  a  hot  trial  does  not  always 
find  its  occasion  in  some  moral  need  of  the  tried  soul.  At  all 
events,  as  Augustine  reminds  us,  there  is  no  way  to  self-knowledge 
but    through    trial,    through    what    he    calla    "some     kind    of 

'  J.  J.  S,  Perowne. 


GENESIS  XXII.   I,  2  185 

experimental  and  not  merely  verbal  self-interrogation,"  lu 
other  words,  God's  stern  providence  must  step  in  to  test  the  latent 
capabilities  of  the  soul.  No  scrutiny  of  our  own,  however  honest, 
will  ascertain  what  is  really  in  us.  When  He  takes  in  hand  to 
try  us,  because  He  loves  us,  it  is  that  He  may  discover,  not  to 
Himself  who  sees  all  hearts,  but  to  us  and  to  our  brethren,  that 
which  His  grace  has  planted  deep  within.  Moreover,  He  designs, 
by  lending  to  our  unfledged  virtue  scope  and  a  call  to  exercise 
itself,  to  train  its  strength  of  wing  for  bolder  flights  to  follow. 

False  gold  says  to  true  gold  every  moment, 

"Wherein,  brother,  am  I  less  than  you?" 

True  gold  in  reply  but  maketh  comment, 

"Wait,  0  brother,  till  the  touch-stone  come  in  view."* 

2.  Not  only  does  Faith  need  to  be  tried  but  Faith  needs  to  he 
tried  all  through  life.  And  trials  do  not  become  lighter  as  we  go 
m.  The  text  says,  "  And  it  came  to  pass,  after  these  things,  that 
God  did  tempt  Abraham."  What,  no  repose?  No  place  of 
honourable  quiet  for  the  "friend  of  God,"  full  of  years?  No. 
There  are  harder  and  yet  harder  trials  even  to  the  end.  The 
last  of  Abraham's  trials  was  the  hardest  of  all  to  bear.  And 
this  is  the  history  of  our  existence.  For  the  soldier  engaged  in 
this  world's  warfare,  there  is  an  honourable  asylum  for  his 
declining  years ;  but  for  the  soldier  of  the  Cross  there  is  no  rest 
except  the  grave.  Conquer,  and  fresh  trials  will  be  yours, 
followed  by  fresh  victories.  Nay,  even  Abraham's  last  victory 
did  not  guarantee  the  future. 

^  There  is  a  deep  truth  contained  in  the  fabled  story  of  old, 
where  a  mother,  wishing  to  render  her  son  invulnerable,  plunged 
him  into  the  Styx,  but  forgot  to  dip  his  heel  by  which  she  held 
him.  We  are  baptized  in  the  blood  and  fire  of  sorrow  that 
temptation  may  make  us  invulnerable;  but  let  us  remember 
that  trials  will  assail  us  in  our  most  vulnerable  part,  be  it  the 
head,  or  heart,  or  heel.  Let  us  therefore  give  up  the  idea  of  any 
moment  of  our  lives  coming  when  we  may  lay  aside  our  armour 
and  rest  in  perfect  peace.* 

3,  But  there  is  usually  in  our  life  one  trial,  one  crisis,  to  which 
great  issues  are  attached.     As  we  pass  along  the  path  of  life  there 

'  Jalaluddin  Runii,  in  A  Little  Book  of  JSastem  Wisdom,  11, 
«  F.  W.  Robertson. 


i86         THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

may  come  to  us,  in  some  form  or  other,  the  Divine  command,  to 
give  up  something  very  dear,  because  God  wills  it.  And  we  must 
learn  to  do  it,  to  do  it  cheerfully  and  willingly,  as  Abraham  did, — 
to  do  it  without  murmuring,  with  a  calm  confiding  trust  in  our 
Father's  Love  and  in  His  Wisdom,  that  what  He  wills  is  surely 
good,  what  He  orders  must  be  for  the  best. 

^  This  was  not  the  first  time  that  God  had  tried  Abraham, 
He  had  tried  him  all  his  life.  He  tried  him  when  He  commanded 
him  to  leave  his  native  land.  He  tried  him  in  suffering  him  to 
wander  as  a  stranger  in  the  land  given  him  by  promise.  He 
tried  him  in  the  peril  of  Sarah  in  Egypt  and  in  the  peril  of  Lot 
in  Sodom.  He  tried  him  in  causing  him  to  wait  twenty-five  long 
years  before  Isaac  was  born.  He  tried  him  severely  when  He 
bade  him  thrust  out  his  son  Ishmael  from  his  home.  But  here  it 
is  said  in  marked  phrase  that  God  did  try  Abraham,  because  it  is 
the  crucial  instance  of  his  life,  the  hardest  trial,  perhaps,  of  all 
history.^ 

If  God  speak  to  thee  in  the  summer  air, 
The  cool  soft  breath  thou  leanest  forth  to  feel 
Upon  thy  forehead;  dost  thou  feel  it  God? 
Nay,  but  the  wind :  and  when  heart  speaks  to  heart, 
And  face  to  face,  when  friends  meet  happily, 
And  all  is  merry,  God  is  also  there; — 
But  thou  perceivest  but  thy  fellow's  part; 
And  when  out  of  the  dewy  garden  green 
Some  liquid  syllables  of  music  strike 
A  sudden  speechless  rapture  through  thy  frame. 
Is  it  God's  voice  that  moves  thee?    Nay,  the  bird's, — 
Who  sings  to  God,  and  all  the  world  and  thee. 
But  when  the  sharp  strokes  flesh  and  heart  run  through. 
For  thee,  and  not  another;  only  known. 
In  all  the  universe,  through  sense  of  thine ; 
Not  caught  by  eye  or  ear,  not  felt  by  touch, 
Nor  apprehended  by  the  spirit's  sight. 
But  only  by  the  hidden,  tortured  nerves, 
And  all  their  incommunicable  pain, — 
God  speaks  Himself  to  us,  as  mothers  speak 
To  their  own  babes,  upon  the  tender  flesh 
With  fond  familiar  touches  close  and  dear; — 
Because  He  cannot  choose  a  softer  way 
To  make  us  feel  that  He  Himself  is  near. 
And  each  apart  His  own  Beloved  and  Known.* 
'  J.  J.  S.  Perowne.  '  Harriet  Eleanor  Hamilton  Kintr. 


GENESIS  XXII.  I,  2  187 

4.  Qod  sends  us  no  trial,  Jiowever,  whether  great  or  small,  without 
first  preparing  us.  He  "  will  with  the  temptation  also  make  a 
way  of  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  bear  it"  (1  Cor.  x.  13). 
Trials  are,  therefore,  God's  vote  of  confidence  in  us.  Many  a 
trifling  event  is  sent  to  test  us,  ere  a  greater  trial  is  permitted  to 
break  on  our  heads.  We  are  set  to  climb  the  lower  peaks  before 
being  urged  to  the  loftiest  summits  with  their  virgin  snows ;  are 
made  to  run  with  footmen  before  contending  with  horses;  are 
taught  to  wade  in  the  shallows  before  venturing  into  the  swell 
of  the  ocean  waves.  So  it  is  written :  "  It  came  to  pass  after  these 
things  that  God  did  tempt  Abraham." 

^  The  trial  of  faith  is  the  greatest  and  heaviest  of  all  trials. 
For  faith  it  is  which  must  conquer  in  all  trials.  Therefore,  if 
faith  gives  way,  then  the  smallest  and  most  trifling  temptations 
can  overcome  a  man.  But  when  faith  is  sound  and  true,  then 
all  other  temptations  must  yield  and  be  overcome.^ 

5,  And  now,  lastly,  let  us  remember  that  our  experience  is 
that  filial  obedience  on  our  part  has  ever  been  followed  by 
special  tokens  of  God's  approval.  We  have  something  more  than 
mere  Hebrew  redundancy  of  language  in  the  promise  made  to 
Abraham  by  the  Almighty.  Hear  how  that  promise  reads.  It 
reads  like  a  river  full  to  overflowing :  "  Because  thou  hast  done  this 
thing,  and  hast  not  withheld  thy  son,  thine  only  son:  that  in 
blessing  I  will  bless  thee,  and  in  multiplying  I  will  multiply  thy 
seed  as  the  stars  of  the  heaven,  and  as  the  sand  which  is  upon 
the  seashore ;  and  in  thy  seed  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be 
blessed ;  because  thou  hast  obeyed  my  voice."  Is  there  a  more 
striking  realization  of  the  promise,  "  I  will  open  the  windows  of 
heaven,  and  pour  out  a  blessing  until  there  shall  not  be  room 
enough  to  receive  it"?  Have  we  not  ourselves,  in  appropriate 
degrees,  realized  this  same  overflowing  and  all-comforting  bless- 
ing of  God,  in  return  for  our  filial  obedience?  Have  we  ever 
given  money  to  the  poor  without  repayment  from  the  Lord? 
Have  we  ever  given  time  to  God's  cause  without  the  sun  and 
the  moon  standing  stiU  until  we  had  finished  the  fight,  and  made 
up  for  the  loss  ?  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  There  is  no  man  that 
hath  left  house,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or 
wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  sake,  and  the  gospel's,  but  he 

1  Luther,  Watchwords /or  the  Warfare  of  Life,  46. 


i88  THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

shall  receive  an  hundredfold  now  in  this  time,  houBes,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  and  mothers,  and  children,  and  lands,  with 
persecutions;  and  in  the  world  to  come  eternal  life"  (Mark  x. 
29,  30).  Exceeding  great  and  precious  are  the  promises  of  God ! 
He  is  able  to  do  very  exceeding  abundantly  above  all  that  we 
ask  or  think. 

^  "  Unless  above  himself  he  can  erect  himself,  how  mean  a 
thing  is  man."  He  that  sets  himself  with  his  whole  heart  on 
this  task,  will  find  at  some  stage  or  other  of  the  work,  that,  like 
Abraham,  he  has  to  offer  up  his  first-born,  his  dearest  possession, 
his  "ruling  love," — whatever  that  may  be.  He  must  actually 
lift  the  knife, — not  so  much  to  prove  his  sincerity  to  God  as  to 
himself ;  for  no  man  who  has  not  thus  won  assurance  of  himself 
can  advance  surely.  But  he  will  find  that  he  has  killed  a  ram, 
and  that  his  first-born  is  safe,  and  exalted  by  this  offering  to  be 
the  father  of  a  great  nation;  and  he  will  understand  why  God 
called  the  place  in  which  this  sacrifice  was  offered  "  The  Land  of 
Vision."  1 

I  stood  and  watched  my  ships  go  out, 
Each,  one  by  one,  unmooring  free, 

What  time  the  quiet  harbour  filled 
With  flood-tide  from  the  sea. 

The  first  that  sailed, — her  name  was  Joy ; 

She  spread  a  smooth  and  ample  sail, 
And  eastward  strove,  with  bending  spars, 

Before  the  singing  gale. 

Another  sailed, — her  name  was  Hope; 

No  cargo  in  her  hold  she  bore, 
Thinking  to  find  in  western  lands 

Of  merchandise  a  store. 

The  next  that  sailed, — her  name  was  Love; 

She  showed  a  red  flag  at  the  mast, — 
A  flag  as  red  as  blood  she  showed. 

And  she  sped  south  right  fast. 

The  last  that  sailed, — her  name  was  Faith; 

Slowly  she  took  her  passage  forth, 
Tacked  and  lay  to — at  last  she  steered 

A  straight  course  for  the  north. 

'  Coventry  Patinore. 


GENESIS  xxii.  I,  2  189 

My  gallant  ships  they  sailed  away 

Over  the  shimmering  summer  sea; 
I  stood  at  watch  for  many  a  day, 

But  only  one  came  back  to  me. 

For  Joy  was  caught  by  Pirate  Pain; 

Hope  ran  upon  a  hidden  reef; 
And  Love  took  fire,  and  foundered  fast 

In  'whelming  seas  of  grief. 

Faith  comes  at  last,  storm-beat  and  torn; 

She  recompensed  me  all  my  loss, 
For  as  a  cargo  safe  she  brought 

A  Crown,  linked  to  a  Cross! 


n. 

The  Proving  of  the  Faith  of  Abraham. 

1.  TJie  word  " tempt."— " God  did  tempt  Abraham"  (E.V. 
"  prove  ").  A  better  rendering  might  be,  "  God  did  put  Abraham 
to  the  test."  Satan  tempts  us  that  he  may  bring  out  the  evil  that 
is  in  our  hearts ;  God  tries  or  tests  us  that  He  may  bring  out  all  the 
good.  In  the  fiery  trial  through  which  the  believer  is  called  to 
pass,  ingredients  of  evil  which  had  counteracted  his  true  develop- 
ment drop  away,  shrivelled  and  consumed ;  whilst  latent  qualities — 
produced  by  grace,  but  not  yet  brought  into  exercise — are  called  to 
the  front,  receive  due  recognition,  and  acquire  a  fixity  of  position 
and  influence  which  nothing  else  could  possibly  have  given  them. 
In  the  agony  of  sorrow  we  say  words  and  assume  positions  which 
otherwise  we  should  never  have  dreamt  of,  but  from  which  we 
never  again  recede.  Looking  back,  we  wonder  how  we  dared  to 
do  as  we  did ;  and  yet  we  are  not  sorry — because  the  memory  of 
what  we  were  in  that  supreme  hour  is  a  precious  legacy,  and  a 
platform  from  which  we  take  a  wider  view,  and  climb  to  the 
further  heights  which  beckon  us. 

f  "Tempt"  in  Old  English,  like  the  Latan  tentare,  was  a 
neutral  word,  meaning  to  test  or  prove  a  person,  to  see  whether 
he  would  act  in  a  particular  way,  or  whether  the  character  which 
he  bore  was  well  established ;  in  modern  English,  it  has  come  to 
mean  to  entice  a  person  in  order  to  do  a  particular  thing, 
especially  some  thing  that  is  wrong  or  sinful.     God  **  tests "  or 


I90         THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

"proves"  man,  when  He  subjects  him  to  a  trial  to  ascertain 
whether  his  faith  or  goodness  is  real ;  man  is  said  to  "  test "  or 
"  prove  "  God,  when  he  acts  as  if  doubting  whether  His  word  or 
promise  is  true.^ 

2.  The  particular  form  of  Abraham's  trial. — The  command 
given  by  God  was  fitted  as  perhaps  no  other  command  could  have 
been  to  purify  Abraham's  faith.  God  had  been  training  him  from 
the  first  ta  live-aiilx_b^His  promise.  He  called  him  out  of  his 
own  land,  He  promised  him  another  land,  but  Abraham  lived  a 
stranger  in  it,  and  was  never  able  to  call  it  his  own.  He  promised 
him  a  son  in  whom  all  the  families  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed, 
and  for  many  long  years  Abraham  had  lived  by  that  promise, 
seeing  no  hope  of  its  fulfilment.  At  last  Isaac  was  bom,  and 
he  welcomed  him  as  the  child  of  promise.  But  years  pass  on. 
The  child  has  grown  up  before  him  and  twined  himself  about  his 
heart,  till  at  last  he  has  almost  forgotten  the  promise  in  the  child 
of  promise.  Isaac,  it  has  been  strikingly  said,  the  precious  late- 
won  gift,  is  still  for  Abraham  too  exclusively  a  merely  natural 
blessing,  a  child  like  other  children,  though  born  of  the  true 
mother,  Abraham's  son  only  because  he  has  been  bom  to  him  and 
been  brought  up  in  his  house.  Pangs,  the  pangs  of  a  soul 
wrestling  in  faith,  he  has  not  felt  for  him  since  his  birth,  and  yet 
that  is  the  only  spiritual  and  therefore  the  only  really  abiding 
blessing  which  we  are  able  to  make  our  own,  through  the  fightings 
and  wrestlings  of  the  believing  heart.  Therefore,  now  that  in 
Isaac  the  supreme  blessing  has  been  won,  there  must  also  take 
place  the  supreme  trial  of  Abraham's  faith  and  obedience. 

*\  Abraham  was  in  a  special  sense  the  creature  of  promise. 
His  whole  life  rested  upon  the  promise ;  all  his  hopes  centred  in 
and  were  dependent  upon  the  promise ;  and  the  whole  object  of 
God's  discipline  and  training  seemed  to  be  to  isolate  him  from  all 
else,  and  to  make  him  hang  only  on  the  promise.  The  promise  is 
all.  Is  God's  promise  enough  for  him  ?  Can  he  live  by  that  ? 
Can  he  trust  to  it  with  unhesitating  reliance  in  spite  of  all  that 
seems  contrary  ?  Can  he  trust  even  when  God's  own  word  seems 
to  contradict  it  ?     This  was  the  exact  nature  of  Abraham's  trial.* 

3.  Abraham's  recognition  of  it. — How  was  Abraham  able  to 
recognize  as  Divine  a  command  to  sacrifice  his  son  ?     We  could 

»  8.  B.  Drirer.  '  J.  J.  S.  Perowne. 


GENESIS  XXII.  I,  2  191 

not  80  regard  such  a  command :  an  alleged  command  of  God  to 
sacrifice  a  child  could  not  be  accepted  as  such;  and  if  it  were 
acted  upon,  the  action  would  be  condemned  as  a  violation  of 
conscience  by  the  whole  Christian  Church ;  there  had  been,  it 
would  be  said,  some  hallucination  or  delusion.  The  reason  is 
that  we  live  in  an  age,  and  under  a  moral  light,  in  which  we  could 
not  regard  as  Divine  a  command  to  violate  not  only  our  sense  of 
what  was  morally  right,  but  even  our  natural  ihstinCta-oE-love  and 
affection.  It  was  possible  for  Abraham  so  to  regard  it,  because 
he  lived  under  the  mental  and  moral  conditions  of  an  age  very 
different  from  ours.  He  lived  not  only  in  an  age  when  such 
sacrifices  were  common,  but  also  in  an  age  in  which  the  rights  of 
the  individual  were  much  less  clearly  recognized  than  they  are 
now,  when  it  was  still  a  common  thing,  for  instance,  for  the  family 
of  a  criminal  to  be  punished  with  him,  and  when  also  a  father's 
power  over  his  son  was  far  more  absolute  than  it  is  now.  The 
command  would  not  therefore  shock  the  moral  standard  to  which 
Abraham  was  accustomed,  as  it  would  shock  ours.  It  would  not 
be  out  of  harmony  with  what  he  might  suppose  could  be  reasonably 
demanded  by  God. 

^  The  custom  of  human  sacrifice  was  widely  spread  in  the 
ancient  world,  as  it  is  still  among  savage  or  half-civilized  tribes, 
the  idea  lying  at  the  bottom  of  it  being  that  the  surrender  of 
something  of  the  highest  value — and  so  especially  of  a  relative 
or  a  child — to  the  deity,  would  have  extraordinary  efficacy  in 
averting  his  anger,  or  gaining  his  help.  The  custom  was  thus 
practised  among  the  Phoenicians  and  other  neighbours  of  Israel 
(cf.  2  Kings  iii.  27,  xviL  31);  the  Carthaginians,  Greek  writera 
tell  us,  in  times  of  grave  national  danger  or  calamity,  wouldj, 
sacrifice  by  the  hundred  the  children  of  their  noblest  families. 
Under  the  later  kings,  especially  Ahaz  and  Manasseh,  the  custom 
found  its  way  into  Judah,  in  spite  of  its  being  strenuously 
forbidden  by  legislators  and  condemned  by  prophets.  In  view  of 
this  prevalence  of  the  practice  among  Israel's  neighbours  it  is 
quite  possible  that  Jehovah's  claim  to  the  first-born  in  Israel 
(Ex.  xxii.  29,  xiii.  12-15,  al.)  stands  in  some  relation  to  it ;  Jehovah 
took  the  first-born,  but  gave  it  back  to  its  parents  upon  payment 
of  a  redemption  price.^ 

4.  The  moral  difficulty  which  we  feel  would  not  exist  for  Abraham. 
— Living  in  an   age   and  a  country  where  human  sacrifice  was 

1  S.  R.  Driver. 


192         THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

common  and  approved  of,  held  generally  to  be  the  highest  mark 
of  devotion,  most  sacred,  most  acceptable,  it  could  have  been  no 
stumbling-block  to  him.  Now,  on  the  other  hand,  faith  would  be 
shown  in  refusing  any  such  seeming  Divine  intimation,  however 
vouched  for  by  the  senses.  We  should  regard  it,  and  rightly  regard 
it,  as  only  an  hallucination.  We  should  and  ought  to  say.  My 
eyes,  my  ears  may  deceive  me,  a  dream  may  seem  like  reality,  bodily 
disorganization  may  cheat  my  working  mind,  but  that  God  should 
bid  me  slay  my  child  is  impossible.  No  miracle  even  could  attest 
such  a  command.  If  I  heard  such  a  voice,  if  I  saw  such  a  miracle, 
I  must  only  say,  being  in  the  full  possession  of  my  intellect  and 
my  faculties,  "  I  am  the  victim  of  some  strange  hallucination. 
I  believe  in  God's  character  as  revealed  by  conscience,  as  declared 
to  me  in  Holy  Scripture,  and  I  must  believe  in  it  against  any 
outward  seeming  evidence,  however  strong."  And  to  act  in 
accordance  with  such  a  belief  would  be  the  proof  of  our  faith,  a 
faith  in  the  unseen  against  the  verdict  of  bodily  sense. 

1[  Here  we  may  learn  the  necessity  which  is  laid  upon  us  of 
obeying  under  all  circumstances  the  voice  of  conscience — of 
following  the  promptings  of  that  inner  sense  of  duty,  which  we 
all  have,  if  we  will  only  heed  it,  and  which  will  urge  us,  from 
time  to  time,  to  do  this  or  to  do  that — not  because  it  is  pleasant, 
or  because  it  is  profitable,  but  simply  because  it  is  right.  This 
is,  in  fact,  what  makes  a  man — what  makes  him  essentially 
different  from  the  brutes  that  perish — that  he  has  a  conscience,  a 
sense  of  right  and  wrong,  an  inward  voice  which  bids  him  do  this 
and  do  that,  simply  because  it  is  right  for  him  to  do  it.  Many 
brute  creatures  are  very  strong  and  very  clever ;  but  to  do  what 
is  right  and  true  and  good  belongs  not  to  brutes,  it  belongs  only 
to  men.^ 

III. 

The  Use  of  the  Proving  of  Abraham's  Faith. 

i.  Its  Use  to  Abraham. 

,  The  command  to  slay  his  son  was  not  to  Abraham  that  abrupt, 
startling,  unaccountable  command  which  at  first  sight  it  appears. 
God  was  leading  him,  as  He  leads  us  all,  in  the  way  of  His 
providence.    Abraham  was  living  among  idolaters ;  he  had  been  an 

'  J.  W.  Colenso. 


GENESIS  XXII.   I,  2  193 

idolater  himself.  He  must  often  have  witnessed  the  cruel  rites, 
the  impure  and  debasing  practices,  associated  with  idol  worship. 
He  may  not  have  been  free  from  temptation  to  fall  back  into 
idolatry.  On  all  the  high  places,  by  sacred  rock,  and  in  sacred 
grove,  fathers  shed  the  blood  of  their  sons  and  of  their  daughters 
to  the  idols  of  Canaan,  and  the  land  was  defiled  with  blood. 
When  he  saw  or  heard  of  these  awful  sacrifices,  do  we  suppose  he 
could  see  or  hear  of  them  unmoved  ?  Do  we  think  they  stirred  in 
him  no  searchings  of  heart  ?  The  triumph  of  religious  faith,  how- 
ever mistaken,  over  natural  affection  must  surely  have  moved  him 
to  serious  and  painful  reflection.  Abraham  was  a  man,  as  all  his 
history  shows,  of  the  tenderest  affection — a  man  who  loved  his 
children  with  no  common  love.  He  was  also  a  man,  as  all  his 
history  shows,  conspicuous  for  his  faith  and  obedience  to  God. 
Trusting  in  God,  then,  and  loving  Him  with  all  his  heart,  and 
feeling,  too,  that  his  child  was  dearer  to  him  than  life  itself,  must 
he  not  have  asked  himself  the  question,  forced  upon  him  by  the 
scenes  which  he  saw  around  him,  "  What  if  my  love  to  God  and 
my  love  to  my  child  should  ever  be  brought  into  this  painful 
conflict  ?  Can  I  give  Him  my  son  ?  Can  I  give  Him,  if  He  asks 
it,  the  child  who  has  been  the  light  of  my  home,  the  music  of  my 
life,  the  stay  and  hope  of  my  falling  years  ? "  Such  questions,  we 
say,  must  have  forced  themselves  upon  Abraham;  and  we  may 
see  in  this  temptation,  this  trial,  God's  answer  to  such  thoughts. 
God  showed  His  servant  what  was  in  his  heart;  He  showed 
him  that  he  could  do  all  this,  that  he  could  do  more  than  the 
heathen  did;  for  he  yielded  a  sacrifice  no  less  costly,  and  he 
yielded  it  not  out  of  fear,  but  in  simple,  unquestioning,  childlike 
obedience. 

^  In  contrast  with  the  heathen  sacrifices,  Abraham's  sacrifice, 
as  Philo  long  ago  argued,  shines  by  its  moral  superiority.     "  It 
was  not  offered,"  he  says,  "from  any  selfish  motive,  under  the 
compulsion  of  a  tyrant,  or  through  fear  of  man,  from  desire  of 
present  glory  or  hope  of  future  renown.     He  did  not  offer  his  son 
to  win  a  battle,  or  to  avert  a  famine  or  a  pestilence,  or  to  obtain 
some  coveted  gift  of  the  gods.     Nor  did  he  give  up  one  child  out 
of  many.     He  was  ready  to  sacrifice  his  only  son,  his  beloved  son,  ' 
the  son  of  his  old  age,  and  he  did  this  simply  because  God  com-  1 
manded  it.    His  sacrifice  in  itself  went  far  beyond  all  heathen  | 
Bacrifices,  as  in  its  motives  it  infinitely  surpassed  them.    He  gave  ! 

GEN.-NUM. — 13 


194         THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

all  that  he  had,  and  he  gave  it  not  from  fear,  or  from  interest,  but 
out  of  love  to  Grod."^ 

^  The  practical  test  of  faith  is  obedience,  and  such  obedience 
has  to  be  learned  through  suffering.  But  how  rarely  does  it 
happen  that  any  bystander  can  guess  what  tragedies  are  being 
enacted  in  human  bosoms !  A  little  excursion  by  the  pious  chief 
and  his  son  for  purposes  of  devotion  may  have  been  too  ordinary 
an  incident  to  do  more  than  gently  stir  the  monotony  of  their 
pastoral  life.  Yet  few  passages  in  literature  carry  a  deeper  pathos 
than  the  words  which  tell  how,  in  the  fresh  dawn,  the  aged  lord 
of  that  camp  crept  away  on  foot  out  of  the  midst  of  his  retainers' 
tents,  while  the  cattle,  marshalled  with  merry  call  and  tinkling 
bell,  were  going  forth  in  long  strings  to  their  several  grazing- 
grounds,  and  all  the  landscape  grew  busy  with  cheerful  stir.* 

^  When  one  asked  what  was  that  service  of  God  which 
pleased  Him  best,  Luther  said,  "  To  hear  Christ,  and  be  obedient 
to  Him.  This  is  the  highest  and  greatest  service  of  God.  Beside 
this,  all  is  worth  nothing.  For  in  heaven  He  has  far  better  and 
more  beautiful  worship  and  service  than  we  can  render.  As  it 
was  said  to  Saul,  '  To  obey  is  better  than  to  sacrifice.'  As  also 
soldiers  say  in  time  of  war ;  obedience  and  keeping  to  the  articles 
of  war — this  is  victory." 

^  It  is  recorded  of  the  Emperors  of  Eussia  and  Austria  and 
the  King  of  Prussia  that  they  were  one  day  discussing  the  relative 
unquestioning  obedience  of  their  soldiers.  Each  claimed  the  palm, 
of  course,  for  his  own  soldiers.  They  agreed  to  test  the  matter  at 
once.  They  were  sitting  in  a  room  on  the  second  storey  in  a 
house,  and  they  determined  each  to  call  up  a  soldier,  and  to  order 
him  to  leap  out  of  the  window.  The  Prussian  monarch  first  called 
his  man.  "  Leap  out  of  that  window,"  he  said  to  him.  "  Your 
Majesty,  it  would  kill  me,"  was  the  reply ;  and  he  was  sent  down. 
Then  an  Austrian  soldier  was  called,  and  the  emperor  ordered  him 
to  leap  out  of  the  window.  "I  will,"  said  the  man,  "if  your 
Majesty  really  means  it."  He  was  sent  down,  and  the  Czar  of 
Eussia  called  his  man,  and  gave  him  the  same  order.  Without  a 
word  the  man  crossed  himself,  and  started  for  the  window  to  do 
it.  Of  course,  he  was  stopped  ere  he  could  leap  out — but  to  all 
intents  and  purposes  he  did  make  the  leap ;  and  whatever  there 
was  of  agony  of  feeling  connected  with  that  leap,  he  felt* 

u.  Its  Use  to  us. 

There  are  various  lessons  to  be  learned  from  it 

»  J.  J.  S.  Perowne.  '  J.  0.  Dykes.  "  A.  0.  Price. 


GENESIS  XXII.   I,  2  195 

1.  They  that  are  of  faith  are  blessed  with  faithful  Abraham. — 
It  was  designed  to  reveal  to  posterity  the  fitness  of  this  man  for 
the  unparalleled  honour  to  which  God  had  summoned  him — the 
honour  of  entering  first  into  friendly  alliance  with  Heaven,  of 
receiving  in  the  name  of  the  universal  Church  Heaven's  promise 
of  eternal  blessing,  and  of  becoming  to  after  ages  the  exemplar 
of  that  trust  in  God  to  which  it  has  pleased  Him  to  attach  His 
favour  and  forgiveness.  The  issue  of  that  probation  was  to  justify 
the  confidence  reposed  in  Abraham  by  Abraham's  almighty 
Friend. 

2.  True  sacrifice  is  the  surrender  of  the  wUl. — The  sacrifice, 
though  commanded,  was  not  exacted.  Abraham's  hand  was  stayed, 
before  the  fatal  act  was  completed.  This  showed,  once  for  all, 
clearly  and  immistakably,  that  in  contrast  to  what  was  imagined 
of  the  heathen  deities  worshipped  by  Israel's  neighbours,  the 
God  of  Israel  did  nptjdemand  human  sacrifices  of  His  worshippers. 
He  demanded  in  reality  only  the  surrender  of  Abraham's  will. 
Abraham,  by  his  obedience,  demonstrated  his  readiness  to  part 
with  what  was  dearest  to  him,  and  with  something,  moreover,  on 
which  all  his  hopes  for  the  future  depended ;  thus  his  character 
was  "  proved,"  the  sincerity  of  his  religion  was  established,  and 
his  devotion  to  God  confirmed  and  strengthened.  It  was  the 
supreme  trial  of  his  faith ;  and  it  triumphed.  And  so  the  narra- 
tive teaches  two  great  lessons.  On  the  one  hand,  it  teaches  the 
value  set  by  God  upon  the  surrender  of  self,  and  obedience ;  on 
the  other,  it  demonstrates,  by  a  signal  example,  the  moral 
superiority  of  Jehovah's  religion  over  the  religions  of  Israel's 
neighbours. 

H  We  must  take  the  history  as  a  whole,  the  conclusion  as  well 
as  the  commencement.  The  sacrifice  of  Isaac  was  commanded 
at  first,  and  forbidden  at  the  end.  Had  it  ended  in  Abraham's 
accomplishing  the  sacrifice,  I  know  not  what  could  have  been 
said;  it  would  have  left  on  the  page  of  Scripture  a  dark  and 
painful  blot.  My  reply  to  God's  seeming  to  require  human  sacri- 
fice is  the  conclusion  of  this  chapter.  God  says,  "  Lay  not  thine 
hand  upon  the  lad."  This  is  the  final  decree.  Thus  human 
sacrifices  were  distinctly  forbidden.  He  really  required  the  sur- 
render of  the  father's  will.  He  seemed  to  demand  the  sacrifice  of 
life.i 

» r.  W.  Robertson. 


196  THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

^  Abraham  never  needed,  himself,  to  be  taught  a  second  time 
that  God  does  not  wish  the  offering  of  blood.  No  Hebrew  parent, 
reading  that  story  in  after  years,  and  teaching  it  to  his  children, 
would  ever  think  of  pleasing  the  God  of  Abraham  by  offering 
to  Him  his  first-born  son;  it  became  an  abomination  in  Israel 
to  cause  children  to  pass  through  the  fire  to  Moloch,  and  the 
later  prophets  knew  that  God  loves  mercy  rather  than  sacrifice. 
Though  the  influence  of  surrounding  idolatries  may  on  rare 
occasions  have  led  Israel  into  the  tragic  sin  of  offering  human 
sacrifices,  the  Hebrew  law  and  custom,  and  the  whole  providential 
leading  of  the  people  from  Abraham's  day  were  against  it;  and 
they  who  would  sit  in  judgment  upon  this  Divine  procedure 
should  not  be  suffered  to  ignore  the  decisive  fact  that  the  God  of 
Abraham  is  the  God  whose  course  of  moral  education  succeeded 
in  destroying  the  fatal  errors,  and  saving  the  vital  truth,  of 
sacrifice ;  and  that  the  beginning  of  this  great,  beneficent,  provi- 
dential instruction  in  the  true  meaning  of  sacrifice  was  the  vivid 
historical  object-lesson  which  God  taught  Abraham  of  old,  and 
which  Israel  has  not  forgotten  to  this  day.^ 

3.  Give  God  the  first  'place. — In  that  most  cruel  rite  of  human 
sacrifice  there  is  a  truth  providentially  to  be  cared  for,  as  well  as 
a  fearful  evil  to  be  abolished.  At  the  heart  of  it  lies  this  idea, 
that  he  who  would  be  a  friend  of  God  must  love  nothing  better 
than  God,  nor  hold  back  anything  which  God's  service  demands. 
This  is  the  same  everlasting  law  which  on  the  lips  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  found  explicit  and  reiterated  utterance :  "  He  that  loveth 
father  or  mother,  son  or  daughter,  more  than  me  is  not  worthy 
of  me."  To  disentangle  this  precious  truth  from  the  false  and 
hateful  inference  which  had  become  involved  with  it,  that  the 
literal  slaying  of  a  beloved  child  could  constitute  an  act  of  wor- 
ship pleasing  to  the  Deity,  formed  beyond  question  one  design 
of  the  strange  command,  "Take  now  thy  son  Isaac  and  offer 
him  up." 

^  Do  you  say  that  such  an  act  could  not  be  done  now  ?  That 
is  all  the  more  reason  why  it  should  have  been  done ; — why  it 
should  have  been  done  when  it  could  be  done ;  when  the  state  of 
evidence  admitted  of  it ;  when  the  primitive  standard  of  human 
rights  gave  the  son  to  be  the  property  of  the  father,  to  be  sur- 
rendered by  him,  upon  a  call,  as  his  own  treasure.  That  idea — 
that  very  defective  idea   of  the  age  —  it   was,  which    rendered 

^  Newman  Smyth. 


GENESIS  XXII.  I,  2  197 

possible  the  very  point  of  the  act,  the  unsurpassable  pang  of  it, 
the  self-inflicted  martyrdom  of  human  affection,  the  death  of  the 
son  in  will,  by  the  father's  hand.  That  idea  of  the  age,  therefore, 
was  used  to  produce  that  special  fruit  which  it  was  adapted  to 
produce ;  the  particular  great  spiritual  act  of  which  it  supplied 
the  possibility,  and  which  was  the  splendid  flower  of  this  stock.^ 

^  To  refuse  sacrifice  is  to  refuse  the  love  that  is  one  aspect 
of  God's  being.  Love  lays  down  its  life  unceasingly,  but  so  it 
transcends  time,  and  conquers  death.  It  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law,  but  its  necessity  is  perfect  freedouL  And  it  dies  to  the 
finite  self ;  but  it  has  found  the  universal  self,  and  life  eternal.* 

4  Bedemption  is  by  blood. — Viewed  as  a  part  of  the  Divine 
teaching  of  the  world,  we  find  in  this  history  the  wisdom  of  God, 
We  find  an  answer  to  that  first  and  deepest  of  questions  that  the 
human  heart  can  ask, "  Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the  Lord  ? " 
We  do  not  find  it  indeed  in  doctrine  or  even  in  words  at  all. 
But  we  do  find  it  in  fact.  We  find  it  just  in  that  mode  of  revela- 
tion which  was  best  suited  to  the  wants  and  capacities  of  those 
to  whom  it  was  addressed.  Precisely  as  we  ourselves  teach 
csbildren  by  pictures,  whose  meaning,  however,  they  cannot  them- 
selves fully  understand,  so  God  taught  the  childhood  of  the  world. 
Not  till  the  great  act  had  itself  been  accomplished  on  Calvary 
could  all  its  interpretation  be  given.  First  came  the  picture, 
then,  so  to  speak,  the  comments  on  the  picture  in  the  mouth  of 
prophets  and  holy  men  of  old.  Then  the  great  fact  itself  was 
exhibited ;  and  then  from  the  hallowed  lips  of  the  Apostles  of  the 
Lord  came  the  eloquent  interpretation  of  the  fact.  It  is  one 
truth  throughout.  Christ  Jesus  came  "  to  do  the  Father's  wiU," 
and  "  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many  " ;  "by  his  obedience  we 
are  made  righteous,"  "  he  hath  redeemed  us  by  his  blood  " — what 
are  words  like  these  but  the  filling  in,  so  to  speak,  of  the  fainter 
lines  of  that  ancient  picture  ? 

6.  God  spared  not  His  own  Son. — At  this  point  the  wonderful 
story  begins  to  burn  inwardly  with  the  fire  of  prophecy.  It 
grows  prophetic  of  the  transcendent  sacrifice  on  the  cross,  not 
through  ingenious  accommodation,  or  making  the  most  of  any 
accidental  surface  resemblances,  but  because  at  its  very  core  it 
was  an  inspiration  of  the  same  self-subduing  love  that  inspired 

>  J.  B.  Mozley,  Ruling  Idem  in  Early  Ages.  60.  '  May  Kendall. 


198         THE  PROVING  OF  ABRAHAM 

and  glorified  the  ofifering  of  Golgotha.  Abraham's  beat  praise 
is  found  in  this,  that  his  act  can  be  described  in  those  identical 
terms  which  were  to  be  selected  by  the  noblest  spokesman  of 
the  New  Testament  Church  as  the  most  fitting  to  describe  the 
supreme  act  of  eternal  love :  "  He  spared  not  his  own  son." 
With  perfect  justice,  therefore,  has  the  Christian  Church 
delighted  since  the  beginning  of  her  history  to  place  the  sacrifice 
of  Isaac  over  against  the  mysterious  and  adorable  sacrifice  of  her 
Lord,  as  its  most  splendid  Old  Testament  prefiguration. 

IT  God's  true  children  must  climb  their  mount  of  sacrifice. 
When  our  own  hour  shall  have  come,  may  we  arise  forthwith, 
cleave  the  wood  for  the  burnt-offering,  and  go  unflinching  up 
the  path  by  which  our  Heavenly  Father  shall  lead  us.  So  shall 
the  mount  of  trial  become  the  mount  of  blessing.  We  shall  have 
a  wider  horizon ;  we  shall  breathe  a  purer  atmosphere ;  we  shall 
set  our  affection  more  entirely  upon  things  above;  we  shall 
walk  more  closely  with  Gi3d.  And  so  when  He  asks  something 
very  dear  to  us,  let  us  think  not  only  of  Moriah,  but  of  Calvary, 
where  He  Himself  gave  infinitely  more  than  He  can  ever  ask 

of  UB. 

The  dearest  offering  He  can  crave 
His  portion  in  thy  soul  to  prove, 
What  is  it  to  the  gift  He  gave, 
The  only  Son  of  His  dear  love? 

T  In  the  moral  significance  of  this  history  the  Jew  and  the 
Christian  are  agreed.  Even  to  the  present  day  the  Jew,  though 
he  has  rejected  the  true  propitiation,  sees  in  the  binding  of 
Isaac  on  the  altar  a  meritorious  deed  which  still  pleads  on  behalf 
of  Israel  with  God.  And  whilst  the  Christian  Church  prays  to 
God  for  pardon  and  blessing  on  account  of  the  merits  and  death 
of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Jewish  synagogue  beseeches  Him  to  have 
compassion  upon  it  for  the  sake  of  the  binding  of  Isaac 

How  seemed  it  to  the  lad, 
As  down  Moriah's  slope  they  slowly  went. 
They  who  had  glimpsed  th*  eternal  plan  of  God  ? 
Behind,  the  pressure  of  encircling  cords. 
The  vision  of  a  sacrificial  knife. 
And  dying  ashes  upon  altar  stones. 
Before,  a  life  that  nevermore  might  be 
The  glad,  free  life  of  sunny-hearted  youth— 
For  he  had  looked  into  the  face  of  death. 


GENESIS  XXII.  I,  2  199 

How  seemed  it  to  the  lad, 
When  at  the  mountain's  base  they  ran  to  meet 
And  welcome  back  the  chieftain  and  his  son? 
Marked  they  upon  his  brow  a  graver  shade  ? 
Within  his  eyes  a  stronger,  clearer  light, 
As  panoplied  with  power  beyond  his  own  ? 
And  said  they,  under  breath,  from  man  to  man, 
The  while  they  passed  along  the  homeward  way, 
"  The  prince  has  seen — has  seen  and  talked  with  God  "  ? 

How  seemed  it  to  the  lad, 
When  for  his  mother's  greeting  low  he  knelt, 
And  felt  her  welcoming  kiss  upon  his  cheek? 
Oh,  did  she  see,  with  tender  mother  sight, 
A  change  had  come?    And  think  you  that  he  told 
The  tale  to  her  ?    Or  did  he  hold  it  close. 
Too  sacred  for  the  common  speech  of  earth, 
While  dimly  seeing  through  the  mist  of  years, 
In  one  great  Sacrifice,  the  type  fulfilled? 


The  Bartered  Birthright. 


Literature. 

Benson  (E.  W.),  Boy-Life,  190. 

Cox  (S.),  The  Hebrew  Twins,  2. 

Qreenhough  (J.  Q.),  Half-Hours  in  Ood^s  Older  Picture  Gallery,  23. 

Keble  (J.),  Sermons  for  the  Christian  Year  (Lent  to  Passion-Tide), 

104. 
Maclaren  (A.),  Expositions  :  Genesis. 
Miller  (J.  R.),  Devotional  Hours  with  the  Bible,  136. 
Moorhouse  (J.),  Jacob,  3. 

Oosterzee  (J.  J.  van),  The  Year  of  Salvation,  ii.  348. 
Stanley  (A.  P.),  History  of  the  Jewish  Church,  i.  46. 
Strachan  (J.),  Hebrew  Ideals,  pt.  ii.  13. 
Christian   World  Pulpit,  ii.  88  (Brown);    ixxvi.    116    (Medley); 

Ixv.  378  (Home). 
Men  of  the  Old  Testament  (Cain  to  David),  57  (Milligan)  ;  71  (Gibbon). 


The  Bartered  Birthright. 

And  Jacob  gave  Esau  bread  and  pottage  of  lentils ;  and  he  did  eat  and 
drink,  and  rose  up,  and  went  his  way:  so  Esau  despised  his  birthright.— 
Gen.  zxv.  34. 

In  view  of  the  popular  misapprehension  of  the  story  of  Esau 
and  Jacob,  and  the  lessons  which  that  story  contains,  it  is  desir- 
able, before  approaching  the  study  of  it,  to  draw  attention  to  two 
things. 

1.  The  writer's  purpose. — The  sacred  narrator  comments  only  on 
the  heedlessness  with  which  Esau,  for  the  sake  of  satisfying  an 
immediate  appetite,  barters  away  what  would  otherwise  have  been 
an  inalienable  right :  the  modern  reader  is  more  impressed  by  the 
avarice  and  selfishness  shown  by  Jacob  in  taking  such  a  mean 
advantage  of  his  brother's  need.  But  in  truth  neither  Esau  nor 
Jacob  can  be  called  an  ideal  character.  Esau  is  frank,  straight- 
forward, generous,  but  without  depth  of  character  or  farsighted- 
ness of  aim:  he  is  governed  by  the  impulses  and  desires  of  the 
moment;  a  "profane  "  person  (Heb.  xii  16), i.e.  unspiritual,  a  man 
without  love  or  appreciation  of  worthier  possessions,  and  heed- 
less of  what  he  is  throwing  away.  Jacob  is  selfish,  scheming, 
and  clutches  at  every  advantage;  but  he  looks  beyond  the  im- 
mediate moment;  he  has  ambition  and  perseverance.  Jacob's 
character  is  thus  a  deeper  one  (in  both  a  good  and  a  bad  sense) 
than  Esau's;  it  contains  sound  and  genuine  elements,  which, 
when  purified  from  purely  personal  and  selfish  aims,  are  capable 
of  consecration  to  the  service  of  God  and  of  being  made  subservient 
to  carrying  out  His  purposes.  No  doubt,  if  history  told  us  more 
about  the  Edomites,  we  should  find  their  national  characteristics 
reflected  in  Esau,  as  those  of  Israel  are  reflected  in  Jacob. 

2.  The  effect  of  that  pv/rpose. — It  is  the  worst  side  of  both 
brothers  that  we  see.    Were  this  all  that  we  knew  of  them,  we 


204        THE  BARTERED  BIRTHRIGHT 

might  be  justified  in  saying  that  Jacob's  was  the  worse  sin.  But 
we  cannot  fail  to  perceive  both  from  this  and  from  their  after- 
history  that  there  was  in  Jacob  a  constancy,  a  determination,  a 
perseverance,  which  Esau  had  not;  and  that,  while  Esau  never 
looked  beyond  the  present,  Jacob  had  his  eye  always  fixed  upon  the 
future.  Jacob's  faults,  of  course,  cannot  for  a  moment  be  excused. 
On  the  contrary,  they  were  faults  deserving  the  strongest  con- 
demnation, and  in  their  own  time  they  brought  upon  him  the 
severest  punishment  and  shame.  Yet  even  thus  early  Jacob  had 
become  convinced  that  a  great  future  was  in  store  for  him.  He 
saw  and  appreciated  the  blessings  which  belonged  to  the  birth- 
right, and  was  determined  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  gain  possession 
of  them.  But  Esau  "  despised  his  birthright."  His  one  concern 
was  with  the  pleasures  of  the  moment.  He  could  not  raise  his 
thoughts  above  the  excitement  of  hunting,  or  the  gratification  of 
his  bodily  desires.  About  the  future  he  did  not  trouble  himself. 
The  present  was  enough  for  him. 


The  Birthright. 

A  crisis  arrives  in  the  lives  of  these  two  young  men  which 
reveals  the  thoughts  of  their  hearts.  Esau  comes  in  hungry 
from  hunting,  so  hungry  that  he  cannot  wait  till  food  is  prepared 
for  him.  Jacob  has  a  savoury  mess  of  lentil  pottage  in  his  hands. 
Esau  greedily  clamours  for  it — you  can  still  hear  his  greed  in  his 
words,  "  Give  me  of  that  red,  that  red  there " ;  and  Jacob  seizes 
the  opportunity  of  making  a  shrewd  bargain  with  him:  "Give 
me,  first  of  all,  thy  birthright."  Esau  replies,  "  What  good  shall 
this  birthright  do  me  ? "  Probably  neither  of  them  knew  what 
good  it  would  do.  But  Jacob  is  glad  of  any  chance  of  securing 
it.  Somehow,  in  the  remote  future,  it  may  be  of  use  to  him ;  it 
may  help  him  to  the  superior  place  assigned  him  by  the  Divine 
promise ;  it  can  hardly  fail  to  yield  him  some  advantage  over  his 
brother.  And  so,  though  he  too  is  hungry,  he  balks  his  appetite 
to  secure  a  future  indefinite  good. 

1.  The  first-bom  enjoyed  the  "  birthright."  He  succeeded  his 
father  a.s  head  of  the  family,  and  took  the  largest  share  of  the 


GENESIS  XXV.  34  205 

property;  this  was  fixed  in  Dent,  xxi,  17  as  a  "double  portion." 
The  right  of  the  first-born,  however,  was  often  disturbed,  owing  to 
jealousies  and  quarrels,  in  the  course  of  Israel's  history.  The 
superiority  of  Jacob  over  Esau  (symbolizing  the  superiority  of 
Israel  over  Edom)  is  described  as  having  been  foretold  before 
their  birth  (xxv.  23),  and  as  brought  about  by  Esau's  voluntary 
surrender  of  the  birthright. 

^  John  Bunyan,  the  inspired  dreamer,  has  told  us  that  he 
used  to  hear  voices  in  his  hours  of  temptation  whispering  to  him, 
"  Sell  Christ,  sell  Christ,  sell  Him  for  a  pin,  sell  Him  for  a  pin." 
Of  course  it  was  not  a  pin  that  tempted  him ;  it  was  something 
much  bigger  and  more  attractive.  Possibly  it  was  money,  or 
some  enticing  form  of  pleasure;  maybe  a  companion,  a  woman, 
the  entreaties  of  his  wife,  the  imperilled  happiness  of  his  children, 
or  escape  from  persecution  and  suffering  in  times  when  it  was 
not  easy  to  be  a  Christian.  It  was  a  big  thing,  but  his  conscience 
measured  it  properly ;  it  was  only  a  pin  compared  with  the  love 
and  saving  power  of  Christ.^ 

2.  Esau,  in  virtue  of  being  a  few  minutes  older  than  Jacob, 
was  Isaac's  natural  heir.  He  had  the  rights  of  primogeniture, 
and  believed  that  no  man  could  wrest  them  from  him.  If  ever 
he  parted  with  them,  it  could  only  be  by  an  act  of  his  own  free 
will.  Esau's  birthright,  moreover,  meant  more  than  an  ordinary 
first-born  son's  privilege.  He  was  in  a  unique  position,  which 
afforded  him  brilhant  prospects  and  golden  opportunities.  He 
was  born  to  an  inheritance  which  all  the  world's  wealth  would 
not  buy.  To  be  in  the  patriarchal  succession  with  Abraham  and 
Isaac,  to  be  the  recipient  of  great  and  precious  promises,  to  be 
the  founder  of  a  holy  nation,  to  be  the  minister  of  a  covenant  by 
which  all  the  families  of  the  earth  were  to  be  blessed — this  was 
within  his  reach.  But  Esau  despised  the  birthright.  If  he  had 
been  a  religious  man,  if  he  had  been  in  the  least  like  his  fathers, 
Abraham  and  Isaac,  he  would  have  treasured  up  this  promise 
as  they  did,  and  would  have  thought  it  more  valuable  than  all 
his  earthly  possessions.  But  how  different  was  his  behaviour 
from  theirs.  "He  sold  his  birthright  unto  Jacob.  And  Jacob 
gave  Esau  bread  and  pottage  of  lentils ;  and  he  did  eat  and  drink, 
and  went  his  way."  Well  may  the  holy  writer  go  on  to  say, 
"  Thus  Esau  despised  his  birthright."    He  could  not  hold  it  more 

*  J.  G.  Greenhoogh. 


2o6        THE  BARTERED  BIRTHRIGHT 

cheaply  than  to  part  with  it,  wilfully  and  knowingly,  for  a  dish 
of  broth. 

H  In  Romola,  in  the  picture  of  the  crisis  of  Tito's  life — Tito, 
you  remember,  the  genial  nature  which  was  gradually  led  to  crime 
by  daily  indulgence  in  little  selfishnesses  —  George  Eliot  says : 
"  He  hardly  knew  how  the  words  " — Tito  had  just  denied  his 
father,  and  the  denial  was  useless  as  well  as  criminal — "  he  hardly 
knew  how  the  words  had  come  to  his  lips :  there  are  moments 
when  our  passions  speak  and  decide  for  us,  and  we  seem  to  stand 
by  and  wonder.  They  carry  in  them  an  inspiration  of  crime, 
that  in  one  instant  does  the  work  of  long  premeditation."  So 
it  happened  with  Esau.^ 

3.  The  lost  birthright  is  the  one  thing  that  is  irretrievable. 
Esau  could  never  regain  it,  though  he  sought  it  with  many  tears, 
though  in  after  life  he  cried  with  a  great  and  exceeding  bitter  cry, 
when  he  found  that  it  could  not  be  recovered.  In  the  history, 
the  Will  of  God  was  against  Esau's  having  back  his  birthright. 
The  will  of  the  dissembling  mother  was  against  it.  The  better 
and  the  worst  parts  of  his  brother's  nature  were  against  it.  And 
so  it  is  always.  Neither  good  men  nor  bad  men  consent  that  a 
forfeited  birthright  should  be  restored.  There  is  not  one  thing 
in  favour  of  restoration ;  nothing  at  least  but  the  weak  wish  of 
decrepit  Isaac  and  the  passionate  desire  of  Esau,  to  have  back 
for  nothing,  as  a  gift,  that  which  had  once  been  his  by  right.  He 
had  said,  "  Where  was  the  good  of  Knowledge  as  Knowledge  ? 
What  was  the  good  of  Eeligion  as  Religion  ? "  And  neither  God 
nor  Man  attempted  to  demonstrate  to  him  the  truth  of  what  he 
had  known  by  instinct,  but  what  he  hid  his  eyes  from  seeing. 

Then  she  took  up  her  burden  of  life  again, 
Saying  only,  "It  might  have  been." 

Alas  for  maiden,  alas  for  Judge, 

For  rich  repiner  and  household  drudge  ! 

God  pity  them  both!  and  pity  us  all. 
Who  vainly  the  dreams  of  youth  recall. 

For  of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen. 

The  saddest  are  these:  "It  might  have  been!"* 

»  G.  A.  Smith.  «  J.  G.  Whittier,  Maud  Muller. 


GENESIS  XXV.  34  207 

^  There  is  a  very  true  sense  in  which  what  we  lose,  whether 
by  misuse  or  by  neglect,  we  cannot  regain.  How  was  it  with 
Esau  ?  We  cannot  forget  those  verses  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  which,  often  misunderstood,  have  given  unnecessary 
pain  to  many,  but  which,  nevertheless,  convey  a  very  clear  and 
decided  warning :  "  looking  diligently  .  .  .  lest  there  be  any 
fornicator,  or  profane  person,  as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of 
meat  sold  his  birthright.  For  ye  know  how  that  afterward,  when 
he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he  was  rejected:  for  he 
found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully  with 
tears"  (Heb.  xii.  15,  17).  We  must  not  suppose — it  would  be 
contrary  to  the  teaching  of  all  Scripture — that  what  Esau  sought 
and  could  not  find  was  repentance.  Eepentance  is  always  possible, 
ever  open,  to  those  who  seek  it  aright.  The  words  "  for  he  found 
no  place  of  repentance  "  should  rather,  as  in  the  Kevised  Version, 
be  placed  in  a  parenthesis,  and  then  we  see  that  "it"  after 
"sought"  refers  not  to  repentance,  but  to  the  blessing,  which, 
by  his  careless  despising  of  the  birthright,  Esau  had  forfeited. 
He  could  not  regain  lost  opportunities.  He  could  not,  even  with 
those  bitter  tears  of  his,  wipe  out  wholly  the  effects  of  past  sin. 
He  must  abide  by  the  consequences  of  his  folly.  And  so  always. 
Wasted  time,  misused  opportunities,  are  gone,  never  to  return. 
The  boy,  who  at  school  idles  away  his  time,  learns  too  late,  as  a 
man,  that  he  cannot  make  up  for  the  precious  hours  of  youth  mis- 
spent. The  poor  slave  to  intemperance  finds,  even  when  most 
eager  to  cast  the  snare  from  him,  that  not  all  his  efforts  can  bring 
back  the  fresh  innocence  and  manly  energy  he  had  before  he  fell. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  awful  consequences  of  sin  that,  even  when 
the  sin  itself  is  repented  of,  its  effects  remain,  dogging  a  man's 
footsteps,  seemingly  utterly  unable  to  be  wholly  cast  off.  As 
the  poet  Longfellow  puts  it- 
Wounds  of  the  soul,  though  healed,  will  ache, 
The  reddening  scars  remain,  and  make 

Confession ; 
Lost  innocence  returns  no  more; 
We  are  not  what  we  were  before 
Transgression.^ 

IL 

Jacob  and  Esau. 

The  story  of  Esau  and  Jacob  suggests  a  problem  which  many 
have  found  it  hard  to  solve.     Our  instincts  and  sympathies  all 

>  6.  Milligan. 


2o8        THE  BARTERED  BIRTHRIGHT 

go  with  the  frank  daring  hunter,  and  against  the  timid  crafty 
shepherd.  God's  sympathies  go,  or  seem  to  go,  the  other  way; 
He  prefers  the  subtle  shepherd  to  the  bold  hunter.  That  is  to 
say,  the  Divine  Kuler  of  men  appears  to  place  Himself  on  the 
side  of  cowardice,  dissimulation,  treachery ;  and  to  oppose  Himself 
to  manliness,  veracity,  courage.  And  even  if  we  are  quite  sure 
that  He  must  be  right,  we  can  hardly  make  out  where  and  how 
we  are  wrong :  we  cannot  vindicate  His  ways  to  these  two  boys 
and  men.  The  question  will  rise :  "  Must  not  morality  suffer, 
must  not  our  faith  in  goodness  be  put  in  jeopardy,  if  He  who  is 
the  very  Fountain  of  truth  and  righteousness  favours  the  man 
whom  in  our  conscience  we  condemn,  and  condemns  the  man 
whom  in  our  conscience  we  approve  ?  " 

^  I  know  at  least  one  man  of  some  culture  and  distinction, 
a  perfectly  sane  and  reasonable  man,  too,  in  all  other  respects, 
who  in  his  earlier  days  was  so  disgusted  by  this  apparent  Divine 
preference  for  the  meaner  character  of  the  two  that  he  broke 
with  religion  altogether,  and  has  never  since  been  quite  reconciled 
toit.i 

1.  Now  the  first  thing  to  notice  is  that  even  in  his  selfishness 
and  meanness,  Jacob  showed  his  sense  of  the  superior  value  of 
things  unseen  and  distant,  and  his  willingness  to  make  a  sacrifice 
to  secure  them.  He  sinned ;  but  so  did  Esau  sin  in  casting  away 
the  birthright  for  a  momentary  gratification.  He  sinned ;  but  he 
sinned,  not  for  a  sensual  indulgence,  but  for  what  he  conceived 
to  be  a  future,  and  in  some  sense  a  spiritual,  gain — the  main  value 
of  the  birthright  being  that  it  made  a  man  an  heir  of  the  Covenant, 
This,  indeed,  is  the  point  which  we  have  to  mark  and  to  remember 
;  above  all  others,  since  our  whole  problem  turns  upon  it,  that,  even 
/in  his  wrong-doing,  Jacob  showed  that  he  could  prefer  the  future 
^  to  the  present,  the  spiritual  to  the  sensual ;  while  Esau  showed 
no  less  plainly  that  he  was  content  to  sacrifice  the  future  to  certain 
sensual  indulgence,  a  large  remote  hope  to  a  small  immediate 
gratification.  For  here  we  have  a  true  test  of  character,  a  test 
by  which  we  are  accustomed  to  try  our  fellows ;  and  a  test  which 
compels  us  to  admit,  whatever  our  prejudices  may  be,  that  in  at 
least  one  great  vital  respect  Jacob  was  by  far  the  better  man  of 
the  two. 

'  Samuel  C«x. 


GENESIS  XXV.  34  209 

^  This  is  the  power  of  all  appeal  to  passion,  that  it  is  present, 
with  us  now,  to  be  had  at  once.  It  is  clamant,  imperious,  insistent, 
demanding  to  be  satiated  with  what  is  actually  present.  It  has 
no  use  for  a  far-o£f  good.  It  wants  immediate  profit.  This  is 
temptation,  alluring  to  the  eye,  whispering  in  the  ear,  plucking 
by  the  elbow,  ofifering  satisfaction  now.  Here  and  now — not 
hereafter;  this  thing,  that  red  pottage  there — not  an  ethereal 
unsubstantial  thing  like  a  birthright.  What  is  the  good  of  it  if 
we  die  ?  and  we  are  like  to  die  if  we  do  not  get  this  gratification 
the  senses  demand.  In  the  infatuation  of  appetite  all  else  seems 
small  in  comparison ;  the  birthright  is  a  poor  thing  compared  with 
the  red  pottage.^ 

2.  In  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  we  are  told  expressly  why 
Esau  was  punished :  it  was  for  being  a  "  profane  person."  "  Take 
heed,"  it  says,  "  lest  there  be  among  you  any  fornicator,  or  profane 
person,  as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birthright " 
(Heb.  xii  16).  Profaneness:  that  was  Esau's  sin.  What  is  it 
that  we  properly  mean  by  profaneness  ?  It  is  when  people 
know  in  their  hearts  that  a  thing  is  holy,  and  ought  to  be  treated 
with  religious  reverence,  and  yet  they  treat  it  as  a  cheap  and 
ordinary  thing.  It  is  different  from  the  sin  of  Sodom,  and  in 
one  respect  perhaps  it  is  worse :  as  our  Lord  Himself  seems  to 
intimate,  when  He  says  to  wicked  Capernaum,  "  It  shall  be  more 
tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom  in  the  Day  of  Judgment,  than 
for  you."  The  sin  of  Sodom  was  unbelief :  they  knew  not  God, 
and  would  not  believe  what  He  told  them  by  His  messengers. 
Esau  could  not  say  he  knew  not  God.  He  had  been  brought  up 
in  Isaac's  family,  which  was  blessed  as  Abraham's  had  been.  So 
far  then  he  was  worse  than  the  Sodomites,  as  he  had  been  better 
instructed  and  brought  up,  and  knew  more  of  Him  against  whom 
he  was  sinning. 

T  The  profane  person  is  ever  the  same  at  heart,  but  he  varies 
outwardly  according  to  the  time  and  country  he  lives  in.  John 
Earle,  Fellow  of  Merton  College,  Oxford,  in  his  Micro-Cosmo- 
graphie  (editio  princeps,  1628)  gives  a  description  of  "the 
prophane  man  "  of  his  day :  "  A  prophane  man  is  one  that  denies 
God  as  farre  as  the  Law  giues  him  leaue,  that  is,  onely  does  not 
say  so  in  downeright  Termes,  for  so  farre  he  may  goe.  A  man  that 
does  the  greatest  sinnes  calmely,  and  as  the  ordinary  actions  of 
life,  and  sis  calmely  discourses  of  it  againe.    Hee  will  tell  you  his 

*  Hugh  Bkok. 

GKN.-WUM. — 14 


2IO       THE  BARTERED  BIRTHRIGHT 

businesse  is  to  breake  such  a  Commandement,  and  the  breaking 
of  the  Commandement  shall  tempt  him  to  it.  His  words  are  but 
so  many  vomitings  cast  vp  to  the  lothsomnesse  of  the  hearers, 
onely  those  of  his  company  loath  it  not.  He  will  take  vpon  him 
with  oathes  to  pelt  some  tenderer  man  out  of  his  company,  and 
makes  good  sport  at  his  conquest  o're  the  Puritan  foole.  The 
Scripture  supplies  him  for  iests,  and  bee  reades  it  of  purpose  to 
be  thus  merry.  He  will  prooue  you  his  sin  out  of  the  Bible,  and 
then  aske  if  you  will  not  take  that  Authority.  He  neuer  sees  the 
Church  but  of  purpose  to  sleepe  in  it :  or  when  some  silly  man 
preaches  with  whom  he  means  to  make  sport,  and  is  most  iocund 
in  the  Church.  One  that  nick-names  Clergymen  with  all  the 
termes  of  reproach,  as  Bat,  Black-coate,  and  the  like  which  he  will 
be  sure  to  keepe  vp,  and  neuer  calls  them  by  other.  That  singes] 
Psalmes  when  he  is  drunks,  and  cryes  God  mercy  in  mockerie ; 
for  hee  must  doe  it.  Hee  is  one  seemes  to  dare  God  in  all  his 
actions,  but  indeed  would  out-dare  the  opinion  of  him,  which 
would  else  tume  him  desperate:  for  Atheisme  is  the  refuge  of 
such  sinners,  whose  repentance  would  bee  onely  to  hang 
themselues.** 

3.  What  did  Jacob  gain  by  this  offence  ?  Not  the  fulfilment 
of  the  Divine  promise ;  for  that  would  have  been  fulfilled,  had  he 
never  sinned.  What  he  gained  by  his  sin  was — misery,  shame, 
fear,  remorse.  As  the  direct  and  immediate  consequence  of  his 
sin,  he  had  to  leave  his  father's  tent.  Without  Esau's  courage,  he 
had  to  face  perils  before  which  even  Esau  might  have  quailed. 
He,  who  was  destined  to  rule,  had  to  serve.  The  cheat  was 
cheated  year  after  year — by  Laban,  by  his  wives,  by  his  children. 
He  had  to  present  himself,  a  suppliant  for  life,  before  the  brother 
he  had  wronged.  He  had  to  witness  his  daughter's  irremediable 
shame.  He  was  made  "  to  stink  "  in  the  nostrils  of  his  neighbours 
by  the  craft  and  ferocity  of  his  sons.  His  own  children  repaid  on 
Joseph,  his  darling,  the  very  wrongs  which  he  himself  had 
inflicted  on  Esau.  As  we  recall  all  that  he  suffered  in  the  course 
of  his  long  pilgrimage,  we  no  longer  wonder  to  hear  him  say  at  the 
close  of  it,  "  Few  and  evil  have  been  the  days  of  the  years  of  my 
life." 

H  Wellhausen  says :  "  The  stories  about  Jacob  do  not  pretend 
to  be  moral.  The  feeling  they  betray  is  indeed  that  of  undis- 
sembled  joy  in  all  the  successful  tricks  of  the  patriarchal  rogue." 
Now,  if  ever  there  was  a  false  statement,  that  is  false.    If  you 


GENESIS  XXV.  34  211 

wish  to  test  the  matter,  read  a  book  written  about  the  time  this 
Book  of  Genesis  was  committed  to  writing,  the  Odyssey  of  Homer. 
There  we  have  in  Ulysses,  a  Jacob,  an  arch-dissembler  and 
accomplished  trickster.  Like  Jacob,  he  too  is  a  good  husband, 
and  his  meeting  with  his  son  Telemachus  after  the  separation  of 
many  years  recalls  vividly  the  reunion  of  Jacob  and  Joseph.  But 
there  the  likeness  ends.  For  the  story  of  the  lies  and  tricks  of 
Ulysses  is  told  with  gusto.  The  note  of  retribution  is  wholly 
lacking.  Homer's  Jacob  is  a  comic  figure ;  but  the  note  of  tragedy 
goes  sounding  through  the  Hebrew  story.  Jacob's  tricks  and 
deceits  serve  him  like  faithful  minions,  for  the  moment,  but  the 
moment  after,  they  mutiny.  Their  numbers  swell.  They  become 
a  troop.  They  lie  in  wait  for  him.  They  chase  him  from  home. 
They  follow  him  to  his  new  home.  They  appear  at  his  marriage. 
They  change  the  wine  into  wormwood.  As  the  pages  of  the  story 
follow  each  other,  we  hear  the  gallop  of  the  avengers,  we  catch 
the  whoop  of  their  war-cry,  "  God  is  not  mocked.  .  .  .  The  soul 
that  sinneth  it  shall  die." 

1 "  It  is  strange,"  says  Miss  Wedgwood,  "  that  the  judgment 
on  Jacob's  perfidy  is  so  constantly  forgotten.  No  professedly 
moral  tale  could  delineate  a  more  exact  requital  than  that  meted 
out  to  him."  A  cup  of  cold  water  given  to  a  brother  in  a  brother's 
name  shall  not  lose  its  reward ;  nor  shall  a  mess  of  pottage,  sold 
to  a  brother  at  a  price  he  cannot  choose  but  pay,  evade  the 
payment  of  that  tax  which  law  levies  on  selfishness.  "  Dust  shall 
be  the  serpent's  meat." 

If  That  person  who  does  an  atom  of  good  will  see  it  and  find 
its  reward ;  and  that  person  who  does  an  atom  of  evil  will  see  it 
and  find  its  reward.^ 

4.  Yet  when  we  take  the  two  brothers  from  first  to  last,  how 
entirely  is  the  judgment  of  the  Book  of  Genesis  and  the  judg- 
ment of  posterity  confirmed  by  the  result  of  the  whole.  The 
impulsive  hunter  vanishes  away,  light  as  air :  "  he  did  eat  and 
drink,  and  rose  up,  and  went  his  way :  thus  Esau  despised  his 
birthright."  The  substance,  the  strength  of  the  Chosen  Family, 
the  true  inheritance  of  the  promise  of  Abraham,  was  interwoven 
with  the  very  essence  of  the  character  of  "  the  upright  man 
dwelling  in  tents  "  (Gen.  xxv.  27).  The  word  translated  "  plain  " 
implies  a  stronger  approbation,  which  the  English  version  has 
softened,  probably  from  a  sense  of  the  difficulty — steady,  per- 

*  The  Koran. 


212        THE  BARTERED  BIRTHRIGHT 

severing,  moying  onward  with  deliberate  settled  purpose,  through 
years  of  sufifering  and  of  prosperity,  of  exile  and  return,  of 
bereavement  and  recovery.  The  birthright  is  always  before  him. 
Rachel  is  won  from  Laban  by  hard  service,  "  and  the  seven  years 
seemed  unto  him  but  a  few  days  for  the  love  he  had  to  her." 
Isaac,  and  Rebekah,  and  Rebekah's  nurse,  are  remembered  with  a 
faithful,  filial  remembrance ;  Joseph  and  Benjamin  are  long  and 
passionately  loved  with  a  more  than  parental  affection — bringing 
down  his  grey  hairs  for  their  sakes  "in  sorrow  to  the  grave." 
This  is  no  character  to  be  contemned  or  scoffed  at :  if  it  was 
encompassed  with  much  infirmity,  yet  its  very  complexity 
demands  our  reverent  attention ;  in  it  are  bound  up,  as  his  double 
name  expresses,  not  one  man,  but  two ;  by  toil  and  struggle,  Jacob, 
the  Supplanter,  is  gradually  transformed  into  Israel,  the  Prince  of 
God;  the  harsher  and  baser  features  are  softened  and  purified 
away ;  he  looks  back  over  his  long  career  with  the  fulness  of 
experience  and  humility.  "  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all 
the  mercies  and  of  all  the  Truth  which  Thou  hast  shown  unto 
Thy  servant."  Alone  of  the  Patriarchal  family,  his  end  is 
recorded  as  invested  with  the  solemnity  of  warning  and  of 
prophetic  song.  "  Gather  yourselves  together,  ye  sons  of  Jacob ; 
and  hearken  unto  Israel  your  father."  We  need  not  fear  to 
acknowledge  that  the  God  of  Abraham  and  the  God  of  Isaac  was 
also  the  God  of  Jacob. 

T  To  compare  the  characters  of  Jacob  and  Esau  in  a  sentence 
is  difficult,  but  the  contrast  is  instantly  apparent.  Let  me  use  an 
illustration.  You  have  seen  a  morning  of  pure  and  perfect 
radiance,  passing  at  noon  into  a  black  turbulence  of  wind  or 
tempest,  or  a  haze  of  dull  and  heavy  gloom.  This  is  a  transcript 
of  the  life  of  Esau.  You  have  also  seen  the  troubled  day  breaking 
through  thick  mists,  and  you  have  watched,  with  almost  eager 
interest,  the  sun  battling  his  way  through  heavy  masses  of  clouds, 
shining  feebly  at  first  in  faint  victory,  but  at  last  going  down  in 
full  and  peaceful  glory.     Such  is  the  life  of  Jacob.^ 

1  give  you  the  end  of  a  golden  string 

Only  wind  it  into  a  ball, 
It  will  lead  you  in  at  Heaven's  gate 

Built  in  Jerusalem's  wall.* 

>  W.  J.  Dawson,  The  ThreAOd  if  Mamkood,  124.  *  William  Blake. 


GENESIS  XXV.  34  213 

5.  Three  warnings  may  be  given  here  to  the  young  man  of 
to-day. 

(1)  Bo  not  sacrifice  your  spiritual  interests  to  the  appetites  of  the 
flesh. — Such  fallen  creatures  are  we,  it  happens  every  day  that 
the  interests  of  the  soul  and  the  desires  of  the  body  are  in 
conflict.  Your  carnal  nature,  the  animal  in  you,  prompts  you  to 
that  against  which  conscience  protests,  and  from  which  the  soul 
recoils.     The  flesh  pulls  you  one  way,  the  spirit  another. 

^  The  morsel  may  have  been  sweet ;  but  what  a  price  Esau 
paid  for  it !  It  is  easy  for  us,  as  we  read  the  story,  to  cry 
"  Fool ! " — ^but  this  very  folly  is  being  committed  every  day.  It  is 
as  old  as  our  fallen  humanity.  For  the  sake  of  a  piece  of  fruit, 
our  first  parents  sacrificed  their  whole  inheritance,  "brought 
death  into  this  world,  and  all  our  woe,  with  loss  of  Eden."  One 
look  back  upon  Sodom,  and  Lot's  wife  becomes  a  pillar  of  salt ! 
Achan  covets  a  Babylonish  garment,  and  a  wedge  of  gold,  and 
forfeits  his  life  in  consequence.  For  the  sake  of  a  woman's 
caresses  Samson  loses  his  hair,  his  strength,  his  sight,  his  all. 
David,  for  the  sake  of  Bathsheba,  loses  a  year's  communion  with 
God,  and  hands  his  name  down  with  an  ugly  blot  upon  it  to  all 
posterity.  Ahab,  coveting  a  pretty  garden,  commits  murder,  and 
brings  down  Heaven's  judgments  on  his  head.  Judas,  for  a  few 
shillings,  betrays  his  Master.^ 

(2)  Do  not  sacrifice  the  future  for  the  present. — This  is  just 
putting  the  same  thing  in  a  different  form.  Esau  saw  before 
him  the  possibility  of  an  immediate  enjoyment;  his  future 
interests  were  distant,  and  vague,  and  shadowy.  "  Ah,"  he  said, 
"  let  the  future  take  care  of  itself ;  I  must  have  the  dainty  morsel 
while  I  can  get  it." 

^  Some  time  ago  a  ship  went  down,  having  struck  a  hidden 
reef.  Fortunately  there  was  time  enough  to  get  the  passengers 
and  crew  into  the  boats,  which  safely  held  off  from  the  foundering 
vessel.  Just  before  the  last  boat  started,  the  captain  and  mate, 
having  seen  that  all  were  safe,  stood  upon  the  gangway  ready  to 
leave  the  ship.  She  was  fast  sinking — no  time  to  be  lost.  The 
mate  said  to  the  captain,  "  I  have  left  my  purse  below ;  let  me  go 
and  get  it."  "  Man,"  replied  the  other,  "  you  have  no  time  for 
that ;  jump  at  once."  "  Just  a  moment,  captain — I  can  easily  get 
it " ;  and  away  the  mate  rushed  below.  But  in  that  moment  the 
■hip  went  creeping  down.     I    hear    the  gurgling  flood  1     The 

*  J.  Thain  Davidioii. 


214        THE  BARTERED  BIRTHRIGHT 

captain  has  barely  time  to  save  himself,  when,  swirling  in  the 
awful  vortex,  the  vessel  disappears !  By  and  by  the  body  of  the 
mate  was  found,  and  in  his  stiffened  hand  was  tightly  grasped 
the  fatal  purse.  When  the  purse  was  opened,  what  do  you  think 
it  contained  ?  Eighteenpence !  And  for  that  paltry  sum  he 
risked  and  lost  his  life.^ 

(3)  Do  not  sacrifice  the  warmth  of  faith  for  the  coldness  of 
scepticism. — You  are  advocates  of  what  is  known  by  a  much- 
abused  word,  "  free-thought."  You  have  been  reading  or  hearing 
specious  arguments  against  Christianity ;  and  you  begin  to  talk 
of  the  vital  truths  of  religion  as  only  so  many  exploded  super- 
stitions. You  are  enjoying  the  luxury  of  absolute  independence 
of  thought,  and  for  that  "morsel  of  meat"  you  are  selling  the 
birthright  of  the  Christian  faith  that  has  been  handed  down  to 
you  from  a  godly  ancestry. 

^  In  my  university  days  there  was  no  man  for  whom  I 
entertained  a  profounder  admiration  than  Professor  George 
Wilson,  of  Edinburgh.  He  was  then  a  man  under  forty  years 
of  age,  and  destined,  I  am  convinced,  had  his  life  been  spared,  to 
stand  in  the  very  foremost  ranks  of  the  scientists  of  this  age. 
His  mind,  unlike  his  body,  was  of  a  peculiarly  healthy  order ;  he 
was  a  worshipper  of  truth,  and  an  ardent  student  of  nature.  In 
a  letter  to  a  well-known  and  Christian  man  of  science  in  London, 
bearing  date  January  1859,  Dr.  Wilson  wrote  (I  give  you  his 
words  at  length,  for  they  are  very  striking) :  "  I  rejoice  to  hear 
of  your  success  with  the  young  men.  God  bless  you  in  your 
work  !  It  is  worth  all  other  work,  and  far  beyond  all  Greek  or 
Roman  fame,  all  literary  or  scientific  triumphs;  and  yet  it  is 
quite  compatible  with  both.  Douglas  Jerrold's  life  is  most  sad  to 
read.  In  many  respects  it  gave  me  a  far  higher  estimate  of  him 
morally  than  I  had  before.  But  what  a  pagan  outlook !  What 
a  heathen  view  of  this  world  and  the  next !  He  might  as  well 
have  been  born  in  the  days  of  Socrates  or  Seneca  as  in  these  days, 
for  any  good  Christ's  coming  apparently  did  him.  There  is  some- 
thing unspeakably  sad  in  his  life,  and  it  was  better  than  that  of 
many  a  litterateur.  The  ferocity  of  attack  on  cant  and  hypocrisy, 
the  girding  at  religion,  which  they  cannot  leave  alone ;  above  all, 
the  dreary,  meagre,  cheerless,  formal  faith,  and  the  dim  and 
doubtful  prospect  for  the  future,  are  features  in  that  litterateur 
life  most  saddening  and  disheartening.  And  the  men  of  science, 
»re  they  better  ?  God  forbid  that  I  should  slander  my  brethren 
in  study,  men  above  me  in  intellect,  in  capacity,  and  accompliah- 
» i.  TLiiTi  I>»7id«oiL 


GENESIS  XXV.  34  215 

ment.  But  recently  I  have  come  acroas  four  of  the  younger 
chemists,  excellent  fellows,  of  admirable  promise  and  no  small 
performance.  I  was  compelled  to  enter  into  some  religious 
conversation  with  them,  and  found  them  creedless,  having  no 
*  I  believe '  for  themselves :  standing  in  that  maddest  of  all 
attitudes — namely,  with  finger  pointed  to  this  religious  body  and 
that  religious  body,  expatiating  upon  their  faults,  as  if  at  the  Day 
of  Judgment  it  would  avail  them  anything,  that  the  Baptists  were 
bigoted,  and  the  Quakers  self-righteous ! "  ^ 

^  J.  Thain  DaTldson. 


Jacob's  Vision. 


Literature, 

Austin  (G.  B.),  The  Beauty  of  Goodness,  "74. 

Barton  (G,  A.),  Christian  Teaching  as  found  in  the  Old  Testament,  Hi 

Brown  (C),  The  Birth  of  a  Nation,  66. 

Davies  (E.  C),  in  Congregational  Preachers,  i.  21. 

Hart  (H.  G.),  Sedbergh  School  Chapel  Sermons,  81. 

Hiley  (K.  W.),  A  Year's  Sermons,  iii.  94. 

Hook  (W.  F.),  Sermons  on  Various  Subjects,  152. 

Krause  (W.  H.),  Sermons  in  Bethesda  Chapel,  Dublin,  ii.  108. 

Lambert  (J.  C),  in  Great  Texts  of  the  Old  Testament,  1. 

Lightfoot  (J.  B.),  Cambridge  Sermons,  300. 

„  Contemporary  Pulpit  Libra/ry,  v.  1. 

Macgregor  (W.  M.),  Some  of  God's  Ministries,  22. 
Macmillan  (H.),  Gleanings  in  Holy  Fields,  198. 
Mozley  (J.  B.),  Sermons  Parochial  and  Occasional,  28. 
Parker  (J.),  Studies  in  Texts,  iii.  177. 
Percival  (J.),  Sermons  at  Rugby,  96. 
Rankin  (J.),  Character  Studies  in  the  Old  Testament,  30. 
Selby  (T.  G.),  The  God  of  the  Patriarchs,  125. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  vii.  No.  401. 
Stewart  (A.),  Opening  Services,  University  Chapel,  St.  Andrews,  13. 
Thomson  (W.),  Life  in  the  Light  of  God's  Word,  94. 
Westcott  (B.  F.),  Words  of  Faith  and  Hope,  185. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  v.  268  (Roberts)  ;  li.  104  (Macmillan). 
Churchman's  Pulpit  (Second  Sunday  in  Lent),  v.  445  (Bonnej) 
Homiletic  Review,  xvi.  357  (Sherwood). 
Freaclier's  Magazine,  xiv.  (1903)  36  (Carter). 


Ml 


JACOB'S  Vision. 

And  Jacob  awaked  out  of  his  sleep,  and  he  said,  Surely  the  Lord  is  in 
this  place  ;  and  I  knew  it  not.  And  he  was  afraid,  and  said,  How  dreadful 
is  this  place !  this  is  none  other  but  the  house  of  God,  and  this  is  the  gate 
of  heaven. — Gen.  xzviii.  i6,  17. 

At  two  periods  of  his  life  Jacob  passed  through  crises  of 
spiritual  experience,  both  of  which  received  symbolical  expression, 
here  at  Bethel,  and  later  at  Pjaaiel.  Though,  if  we  take  the 
indications  of  time  literally,  it  was  in  his  manhood  rather  than  in 
his  youth  that  he  left  his  father's  house  from  fear  of  his  brother 
Esau  and  went  into  the  long  exile  at  Eadanwaram,  we  can  scarcely, 
if  we  set  the  narratives  side  by  side,  avoid  the  conclusion  that 
the  one  is  intended  to  represent  the  conceptions  which  may  come 
to  youth,  immaturity,  inexperience,  while  the  other  reveals  the 
tried  and  battered  warrior  in  life's  battle,  humbled*  disa-p^ijinted, 
Bojnewhat  embittered^.and  altogether  perplexed. 

Tbei  vision  at  Bethel  is  comparatively  simple.  Jacob  had  ^ 
hitherto  lived,  in  the  shelter  of  his  father's  home,  a  peaceful  and 
industrious  life,  with  little  trouble,  danger,  or  anxiety.  But  now, 
not  without^his  own  gri^yous  fault,  the  peace  was  broken  up,  and 
he  had_  become  a  wanderer.  Yet  though  the  wrench  may  have 
been  great,  and  he  could  not  have  been  without  apprehension  as 
he  set  forth  on  his  lonely  journey,  he  could  have  little  actual 
knowledge  of  what  might  lie  before  him.  Xhe  optimism  of  youth 
was  not  dead;  life  had  hitherto  presented  no  difficult  or  insuper-  lf^,.K 
able  problem  ;_hi8  present  undertaking  might  _.even  lead  to  un- 
expected heights  pf  success.  So  in  a^iifisert  place,  apparently 
neaE^.tJie,J3aQaanite.jcity  of  Lug,.ha  lay  down  to  rest,  and  in  the 
night  had  a  dreajn.^. 

II  E[e  was  in  the  central  thoroughfare,  on  the  hard  backbone    jp\..j, 
oi  the. mpuu tains  of  Palestine;  the  ground  was  strewn  with  wide 

'  Principal  A.  Stewart. 


220  JACOB'S  VISION 

sheets  of  bare,  rack ;  here  and  there  stpodjip-  isolated  fragments 
like  ancient  JDruidical  monuments.  On  the  hard  -ground  he  lay 
down  to  rest,,  and  in  the  visions  of  the  night  the  rough  stones 
formed  theiMelves  into  a  vast,  8t^irca9e,.,reaching  into  the  depth 
of  the  wide  and  open  sky,  which,  without  any  interruption  of  tent 
or  tree,  was  stretched  above  the  sleeper's  head.  On  the  staircase 
were  seen  ascending  and  descending  the  messengers  of  Grod ;  %»d 
from  above  there  came  the  Divine  voice  which  told  the  houseless 
wanderer  that,  little  as  he  thought  it,  he  had  a  Protector  there 
and  everywhere ;  that  even  in  this  bare  and  open  thoroughfare, 
in  no,  consecrated  grove  or  cave,  the  Lord  was  in  this  place, 
though  he  knew  it  not.  This  was  Bethel,  the  House  of  God,  and 
tjbis  was  the  gate  of  heaven.^ 


The  Presence  of  the  Lomj. 

And  Jacob  waked  out  of  his  sleep,  and  he  said,  Surely  the  Lord  Is  in  this 
place  ;  suid  I  knew  it  not. 

1.  What  Jacob  saw  in  his  dream  was  only  the  glorified  pre- 
sentment of  the  thoughts  with  which  his  mind  had  been  filled 
during  the  day.  The  ladder,  which  was  the  scenic  framework  of 
his  vision,  may  have  been  but  the  terraced  hillside  on  which  he 
had  been  gazing  ere  he  fell  asleep.  All  day  long,  as  he  had 
pursued  his  journey,  the  glorious  expanse  of  an  Oriental  sky,  one 
quivering,  trembling  mass  of  blue,  had  been  above  him,  and  as 
he  had  looked  up  with  wonder  and  awe  into  its  silent  depths, 
deep  questionings  had  beset  him.  Then  as  the  twilight  stole  over 
the  scene,  and  the  stars  peeped  forth,  the  sense  of  mystery 
deepened,  and  the  questions  which  had  been  urging  themselves 
redoubled  their  solemnity  and  intensity.  And  so  there  rose 
within  his  heart  strong  yearnings;  and  those  yearnings  half 
articulated  themselves  into  prayers.  The  vision  was  evidently  a 
surprise.  But  he  would  have  had  no  spiritual  vision  if  he  had 
had  no  spiritual  desires.  We  see  in  the  universe  only  what  our 
moral  earnestness  prepares  and  disposes  us  to  see.  It  is  the  pure 
in  heart  alone  who  behold  the  face  of  God.  The  spiritual  revela- 
tions that  we  receive  are  but  the  sublimation  and  the  fruition  of 
our  own  spiritual  struggles.     Had  there  been  none  of  those  yearu- 

^  Dean  Stanlty. 


GENESIS  xxviii.  i6,  17  221 

ings  and  longings  in  his  heart  towards  a  higher  and  a  worthier 
existence,  Jacob  would  have  seen  no  angels.  He  already  carried 
in  his  heart  the  key  to  that  heaven  through  whose  opened  portals 
he  was  permitted  to  look — "  Spiritual  things  are  spiritually  dis- 
cerned." 

Thou  hast  been  with  me  in  the  dark  and  cold, 
And  all  the  night  I  thought  I  was  alone; 

The  chariots  of  Thy  glory  round  me  rolled, 
On  me  attending,  yet  by  me  unknown. 

Clouds  were  Thy  chariots,  and  I  knew  them  not; 

They  came  in  solemn  thunders  to  my  ear; 
I  thought  that  far  away  Thou  hadst  forgot, — 

But  Thou  wert  by  my  side,  and  heaven  was  near. 

Why  did  I  murmur  underneath  the  night. 
When  night  was  spanned  by  golden  steps  to  Thee? 

Why  did  I  cry  disconsolate  for  light. 

When  all  Thy  stars  were  bending  over  me? 

The  darkness  of  my  night  has  been  Thy  day; 

My  stony  pillow  was  Thy  ladder's  rest; 
And  all  Thine  angels  watched  my  couch  of  clay 

To  bless  the  soul,  unconscious  it  was  blest.^ 

2.  We  are  apt  to  cling  to  the  old  superstitious  notion  that  in 
order  to  draw  near  to  God  it  is  needful  to  sever  ourselves  from  life's 
common  duties  and  surroundings.  But  the  Bible  lends  little  favour 
to  any  such  idea.  Jacob's  vision  was  not  granted  to  him  at  a. spot 
that  had  previously  been  accounted  holy.  He  was  at  Xuz — an 
obscure  locality,  to  which,  he  had  chance^  Jtp  come.  "  He  lighted," 
we  read,  "upon  a  certain  place."  Nor  was  he  engaged  in  any 
sacred  observances.  On  the  contrary,  he__^as  travelling  xm  foot 
through  a  desolate  region— a  very^proaaifi  and  seQular  occupation. 
But  itjyaainJiiat  place,  and  wjtiile  he  was  thus^engaged,  that  God 
drew. near-  to  .speak  to  Jacob. 

^  The  same  lesson  comes  again  and  again  from  the  Divine 
revelations  of  which  we  read  in  Scripture.  Moses  was  tending 
bis  aheep-amidst  the  jocks and^furje  of_Horebj..when  God  appeared 
to  him  in  the  burning  busji_^and  taught  him  that  that  mountain-side 

*  6.  Matbeson,  Sacred  Songs,  53. 


222  JACOB'S  VISION 

waa  holy  groujud.  The  disciples  were  standing  half-naked  io  their 
fishing-boat,  worn  oiit  with  the  long  night's  fruitless  toil,,  when 
they  discerned  some  one  standing  on  the  beaQh ;  and  the  disciple 
whom^Jesjis  Igyed  said  unto  Peterj."It  is  the  Lord."  Saul  of 
Tarsus  waa.riding  on  horseback  through  the  Jerce  sunshine  of  the 
Syrian.  noo,nday,.  when  that  brighter  light  from  heaven  shone 
round  about. him.^ 

When  He  appoints  to  meet  thee,  go  thou  forth — 

It  matters  not 
If  South  or  North, 

Bleak  waste  or  sunny  plot. 
Nor  think,  if  haply  He  thou  seek'st  be  late, 

He  does  thee  wrong. 
To  stile  or  gate 

Lean  thou  thy  head,  and  long! 
It  may  be  that  to  spy  thee  He  is  mounting 

Upon  a  tower, 
Or  in  thy  counting 

Thou  hast  mista'en  the  hour. 
But,  if  He  come  not,  neither  do  thou  go 

Till  Vesper  chime, 
Belike  thou  then  shalt  know 

He  hath  been  with  thee  all  the  time.* 


XL 

A  Sense  of  Sin. 

And  he  was  afraid,  and  said,  How  dreadful  is  this  placet 

1.  Fear  was  inherent  in  Jacob's  character. — It  spoilt  him  in 
his  early  days,  but  he  had  manly  stuff  in  him  and  he  subdued  it, 
and  afterwards  it  was  lifted  into  veneration  of  God.  His  present 
fear  was  caused  partly  by  the  Benae_of  sin,-  partly  by  realizing 
the  presence  of  the  Invisible.  No  jsiQ  who  does  not  know  God 
cau-ieel  himself  tpuched  by-God  without  fear.  If  he  feels  Him 
only  as  a  dreadful  power  the  result  will  be  superstition,  but 
if  he  knows  and  loves  Him  the  result  is  veneration.  From 
that  hour  the  love  that  casts  out  fear  began  to  stir  in  Jacob's 
heart.  He  began  to  realize,  not  an  angry  Being,  but  One  who 
loved  him  and  would  care  for  him. 

» J.  0.  Lambert  »T.  K.  Browa. 


GENESIS  XXVIII.  i6,  17  223 

2.  Jacob  had  sinned  grievously. — B[e^wa^  iresh^from  an  act 
of  jhamaful.  deceit,  seconded  by  several  deliberate  lies,  and 
aggravated  by  the  fact  that  his  victims  were  his  only  brother 
and  his  aged  father,  now  smitten  with  blindness  and  infirmity. 
Was  a  man,  upon  whose  soul  such  sins  lay  hot  and  unrepented 
of,  a  possible  subject  for  such  a  revelation  of  God  as  we  read  of  in 
this  chapter  ?  Not  unless  all  the  laws  of  man's  relation  to  God 
were  completely  disregarded  in  the  case  of  Jacob.  From  the 
very  fact  that  God  appeared  to  the  patriarch  with  this  gracious 
manifestation  of  Himself  and  promise  of  His  favour,  we  conclude 
that  Jacob  must  have  had  some  contrition  for  his  sin,  that  he 
must  at  that  very  time  have  been  passing  through  the  painful 
struggles  of  an  awakened  conscience.  Jacob  had  sinned  deeply ; 
but  he  would  have  been  a  callous  sinner  indeed  if  he  had  had  no 
pangs  of  compunction  when  he  heard  his  father's  reproachful 
voice  and  his  brother's  exceeding  bitter  cry.  And  now  all  the 
afflictions  that  had  befallen  him — his  enforced  flight,  his  banish- 
ment from  home,  his  lonely  journey,  the  dangers  by  which  he 
was  beset — these  afflictions  had  engraven  deep  upon  his  mind 
the  solemn  lesson  that  the  devil's  wages  are  always  very  hard, 
and  had  worked  in  him  that  godly  sorrow  which  leads  to  true 
repentance.  Jacob,  we  might  say,  had  been  wrestling  with  God] 
in  the  secret  places  of  his  soul,  even  as  Nathanael  had  been! 
kneeling  before  God  under  the  fig  tree  when  Jesus  promised  that 
he  too,  like  Jacob,  should  see  the  heaven  opened,  and  the  angels; 
of  God  ascending  and  descending.  "^ 

IF  Ther^  is  nothing  that  makes  us  seem  farther  away  from  God 
than  a  heartfelt  sense  of  sin  and  self-dbasmient.  Eutuit  is  when  a 
man  is  ..in  the  very  depths  of  self-condemBation  that  the  lightjjf 
God's  countenance  breaks  upon  himJike  the  day-dawn  -following 
J/he  night.  Look  at  the  Penitential  Psalms.  What  a  consciousness 
of  sin  is  there ;  what  a  depth  of  genuine  humiliation !  And  yet 
it  is  just  when  these  psalmists  are  crying  out  of  the  depths  that 
the  assurance  of  Jehovah's  pardoning  mercy  and  love  springs  up 
within  them.  For  it  is  when  hearts  are  broken  and  contrite 
that  the  High  and  Lofty  One  stoops  down  to  visit  them.  Con- 
trition and  humility  are  the  true  foundation-stones  of  godliness, 
and  the  lower  these  foundations  are  sunk,  the  higher  will  the 
towers  and  pinnacles  of  the  Divine  Temple  rise  within  the 
80uL     '.^nnyson  .  has.  -taught -US -to.  say  that  "  mftn  may  riRp  on 


224  JACOB'S  VISION 

ate.pping-stonea. of -their  dead  selves  to  higher^  things."  And  in  the 
gracious  counsels  of  our  God  there  is  a  blessed  provision  whereby 
the  very  sins  of  the  past,  if  truly  repented  of,  may  become  stepping- 
atones  to  heaven — another  Jacob's  Ladder,  by  which  His  children 
are  raised  above  their  sin  and  selfishness  up  the  steep  heights  of 
hoIjnesB  and  into  the  very  presence  of  the  Father.^ 

3.  If  ever  a  man  needed  a  little  merciful  handling,  this  solitary 
and  troubled  soul  needed  it  then.  God  is  ever  near  to  the  souls 
that  need  Him  most;  and  a  man  never  needs  Him  so  much  as 
when  he  has  sinned,  for  he  is  never  so  surely  imperilled  as  then. 
So,  through  this  man  who  has  sinned,  to  all  men  who  have  sinned 
this  incident  speaks,  and  tells  us  that  God  appears  in  grace  to  a 
man  who  has  done  wrong,  to  prevent  his  doing  further  wrong,  to 
show  that  he  is  not  cast  ofP,  that  from  the  sin  into  which  he  has 
fallen  there  is  a  way  to  God,  and  that  heavenly  influences 
descend  even  on  the  head  of  the  transgressor.  Not  that  his  sin 
is  condoned,  not  that  he  deserves  the  bright  vision.  Who  of  iis 
would  have  any  but  a  dark  and  terrifying  vision  if  we  had  what 
we  deserve  ?  It  is  a  vision  of  God's  grace .  that,  coines.  to  this 
wanderer-T— a  vision  to  assureJiini  that- God's  mercy  persists  in 
spite  of  man's  sin,  and  wills  to  saxe  hmpLitoJn  a  further  falL 

IT  The  thing  that  we  dread  is  often  the  thing  that  brings  God 
near.  *  He  is  sometimes  a  theory  and  His  comfort  a  poem,  until 
darkness  and  solitude  cause  the  soul  to  call  out  for  Him.  And 
I  am  giving  the  experience  of  some  also  when  I  say  it.  was  in 
the  trouble  into  which  sin  plunged  us  that  God  first  became  a 
reality.  It  was  then  that  we  sought,  and  cried  passionately,  and 
found.  There  comog  a  shadow  that  np  eai;thly  light  can  pierce, 
and  into  it  comes,  the  light  of  God;  and  we  have  to  bless  the 
solitude  and  the  darkness  and  the  bitter  penalty  and  consequence, 
because  then,  for  the  firsttime,  God  became  real  and  near.* 

III. 

The  House  op  God  and  the  Gate  of  Heaven. 

This  is  none  other  but  the  house  of  God,  and  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven. 

Let  us  pass  at  once  from  the  story  of  Jacob  and  consider  what 
lessons  these  words  can  bring  us  when  they  are  used  of  a  sacred 
building,  a  church.     The_yigion  of  th^  patriarch  reveals,  to  us 

'J.  0.  Lambert  'C.  Brown. 


GENESIS  xxvm.   i6,  17  225 

that  the  whole,  eajrth  is  the  House  ql  God,  while  padafiiilar  places    -ji 
are j^osea  to  emphasize  the  truth  that  therfi^is  now^ajjontiimous 
iijleioourse  betsxeen  earth  and  heaven,  that  already, we..ara.liYiiig 
iiLa  spiritual  world.    Three  lessons  each  Church  presses  upon  us, 
and  our  life  is  hallowed  and  strengthened  by  remembering  them. 

1.  A.JJbat^'chjmtriesses  to  the  universaLpreseTice.of  Cfod.—ThiB 
universal  presence  of  God  is  a  most  certain  truth;  yet  for  the 
most  part  our  eyes  are  holden  that  we  should  not  know  it.  We 
are  unable  to  grasp  the  fulness  of  the  fact.  And  therefore  God 
meets  our  infirmity.  In.. His  love^He  gives  us  fligns.  He  has 
been -pleased  from  the  earliest  times  to  set.  His  name  here,and 
thjere»-iii  a  stone,  ag_§.t_Bet]i=el,  in  a  tent,  in^a.  temple,  and  now  in  ^ 
SLChuxch.  ThrQugh  the  visible.  He  h>elps_u3  to  see  the  ..invisible,  (f?^ 
A  Church,  then^does  not  bring  to  us  anything  new.  or  .exceptional. 
It  witnesses  Jlo  the  unseen,  the,  spiritual,  the  eternal,  which  is 
about  us  pn..^eyery  side.  Ijb  shows  G:od  tQ..u8  here  because  He  is 
evgiywhere.  It  helps  us  to  see  whatjies  beyond  the  shadows  on 
wbich  we  look.  It  encourages  us  ta-pierqt  .beneath  the  surface 
tdJihat  which  is  abiding. 

So  sometimes  comes  to  soul  and  sense 
The  feeling  which  is  evidence 
That  very  near  about  us  lies 
The  realm  of  spiritual  mysteries. 
The  sphere  of  the  supernal  powers 
Impinges  on  this  world  of  ours. 
The  low  and  dark  horizon  lifts, 
To  light  the  scenic  terror  shifts; 
The  breath  of  a  diviner  air 
Blows  down  the  answer  of  a  prayer: — 
That  all  our  sorrow,  pain,  and  doubt 
A  great  compassion  clasps  about, 
And  law  and  goodness,  love  and  force, 
Are  wedded  fast  beyond  divorce. 
Then  duty  leaves  to  love  its  task, 
The  beggar  Self  forgets  to  ask; 
With  smile  of  trust  and  folded  hands, 
The  passive  soul  in  waiting  stands 
To  feel,  as  flowers  the  sun  and  dew, 
The  One  true  Life  its  own  renew.^ 

»  J.  G.  Whittier,  T?u  Muling, 
GKN.-NUM. — 15 


226  JACOB'S  VISION 

2.  A  Church  witnesses  also  to  the  reality  of  man^s  intercouru^ 
t<;i<^^od— It. ia*JiJ?e.  Jacob's  Beth-el,  "  tlie-gate  of  heaven."  And 
so  from  very  early  times  the  words  "  Behold  a  ladder  set  up  on 
earth,  and  the  top  of  it  reached  to  heaven  "  were  recited  at  the 
consecration  of  Churches,  and  the  first  recorded  promise  of  the 
Lord  gives  a  permanent  force  to  the  vision  of  the  patriarch  when 
He  said  to  the  disciples,  amazed  that  He  had  read  the  secret 
thoughts  of  Nathanael :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  ye  shall 
see  the  heaven  opened  and  the  angels  of  God  ascending  and 
descending  upon  the  Son  of  Man."  A  Church,  in  other  words, 
answers  to  the  title  which  was  given  to  the  first  appointed  House 
of  God,  "  the  Tent  of  Meeting."  It  is_the^  meetijig-place  of  God 
with  man  and  of  man  with  God.  The  thought  is  overwhelming. 
We  are  tempted  to  cry  out  with  Jacob,  when  we  realize  what  it 
means,  "  How  dreadful  is  this  place."  We  recall  the  words 
spoken  to  Moses,  "  No  man  shall  sea  my„lace  iind  Uve,"  or  the 
confession  of  Isaiah,  "Woe  is  me,  for  I  antomdone  ...  for  mine 
eyes  have  seen  the  King  ia.his  l^eemty."  But  the  incarnation  has 
changed  our  relation  to  God.  In  the  Son  of  Man  the  glory  of 
God  is  tempered  to  our  vision.  It  is  true  that  no  man  hath  seen 
God  at  any  time:  that  He  dwelleth  in  light  unapproachable, 
"Whom  no  man  hath  seen  nor  can  see,"  yet  we  have  also  for 
our  assurance  the  Lord's  own  words :  "  Ha.,  that  hath  seen  me 
hath jseen  the  Father,"  not  indeed  seen  God  as  God  in  His  most 
awful  majesty^  but  God  revealed  through  the  love  of  His  Son,       — /- 

^  Reviews  of  Miss  Yonge's  Ufe,  and  even  of  Mr.  Keble's,  spoke 
as  though  their  country  lives  must  have  been  quiet  to  dullness, 
or  at  least  that  they  produced  no  incidents  useful  for  biographical 
purposes.  To  those  who  at  that  time  were  their  nearest  neigh- 
bours, their  lives  were  wonderful  examples  of  the  self -controlled 
vivacity  of  high  spiritual  existence.  The  eyes  of  our  elders  were 
fixed  on  the  holiest  realities  of  Spirit,  and  in  the  services  of  the 
English  Church  they  found  the  atmosphere  in  which  they  breathed 
most  freely.  Theology  was  to  them  a  thrilling  interest,  and  they 
moved  and  spoke  and  thought  with  unseen  presences  round  them, 
not  psychical  or  fancy-spiritual,  but  as  reaUzing  the  angels  round 
about  the  Throne  and  the  solemn  awe  of  the  Throne.^ 

3.  A  Church  assures  us  thai  ive  are  even  now  living  in  a 
spiriiu^  order. — This  is  implied  in  the  record  of  the  Patriarch's 
*  0.  A.  E.  Moberly,  Dulu  Domum,  7. 


GENESIS  XXVIII.   i6,   17  227 

Vision.  The  angels  are  represented  as  "  ascending  and  descending." 
Ascending  first :  earth,  that  is  man's  home,  is  the  habitual  scene 
of  their  ministry.  And  again,  St.  Paul  tells  us  in  direct  words : 
"  God  has  made  us  to  sit  with  Christ  in  heavenly  places."  And 
again  we  read :  "  We  have  come  unto  Mount  Zion,  and  unto  the 
city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  innumer- 
able hosts  of  angels  in  festal  assembly  .  .  .  and  to  the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect."  Heaven  is  not  distant  and  future,  but 
here  and  now.  And  we  habitually  claim,  in  our  Communion 
office,  fellowship  "with  angels  and  archangels  and  with  all  the 
company  of  heaven."  Life,  in  a  word,  is  shown  within  our 
Churches  under  its  spiritual  aspect  in  all  its  critical  vicissitudes. 
Powers  of  heaven  are  seen  to  mingle  at  each  point  with  faculties 
of  earth.  We  are  impressively  reminded  of  the  greatness  of  life. 
If  life  is  on  one  side  the  vision  of  God,  it  is  on  the  other  side 
the  welcome  of  God's  gifts  that  they  may  be  used  in  His  service. 
It  is  from  first  to  last  a  personal  Divine  companionship.  The 
Church  with  its  services  is  the  sign  and  pledge  of  blessings 
answering  to  all  our  need,  but  then  we  are  ourselves  the  living 
sanctuary:  we  live  as  knowing  that  the  Lord  is  with  us  all 
the  days. 

Faith's  ladder  pales  not,  Angels  yet  are  found 

All  beauteous  in  calm  and  holy  light; 
Their  silver  robes  have  skirted  many  a  cloud 

Thronging  the  purple  night. 

Swift  from  the  golden  gates  they  come  and  go, 
And  glad  fulfil  their  Master's  high  behest, 

Bringing  celestial  balms  for  human  woe. 
Blessing  and  being  blessed. 

And  have  not  we  sore  need  the  faith  to  hold 
Of  the  surrounding  of  the  Angel  bands; 

Mid  aU  earth's  dust  to  trace  their  steps  of  gold, 
And  feel  the  uplifting  hands? 

Ah !  yes,  I  think  so,  then  with  firm  believing. 
With  reverence,  hail  each  soul's  celestial  guest; 

Till  they  shall  come,  God's  final  will  revealing. 
To  fold  us  into  rest.^ 

^  Lyra  Anglicana,  136  (Grod's  Angels). 


Spiritual  Wrestling. 


LITERATURE. 

Almond  (H.  H.),  Christ  the  Protestant,  251, 
Bramston  (J.  T.),  Fratribus,  58. 
Bright  (W.),  Morality  in  Doctrine,  199. 
Chapman  (J.  W.),  The  Power  of  a  Surrendered  Life,  29. 
Davidson  (A.  B.),  Tht  Called  of  God,  107. 
Dods  (Marcus),  The  Book  of  Genesis,  297. 
Ewing  (A.),  Revelation  considered  as  Light,  1. 
Eyton  (R.),  The  True  Life,  385. 
Greer  (D.  H.),  From  Things  to  God,  205. 
Harrison  (W.),  Clovelly  Sermons,  101. 
Hutchings  (W,  H.),  Sermon- Sketches,  2nd  Ser.,  95. 
Lockyer  (T.  F.),  The  Inspirations  of  the  Christian  Life,  177. 
McFadyen  (J.  E.),  The  Divine  Pursuit,  17. 
McNeill  (J.),  Regent  Square  Pulpit,  i.  193. 
Matheson  (G.),  Searchings  in  the  Silence,  108. 
Mitchell  (S.  S.),  The  Staff  Method,  135. 
Moore  (E.  W.),  Christ  in  Possession,  180. 
Moorhouse  (J.),  Jacob,  35. 

Nash  (L.  L.),  Early  Morning  Scenes  in  the  Bible,  76. 
New  (C),  The  Baptism  of  the  Spirit,  98. 
Parker  (J.),  The  City  TempU  (1869-70),  373. 

Pentecost  (Q.  F.),  Bible  Studies  :  Pentateuch  and  the  Life  of  Christ,  96. 
Price  (A.  C),  Fifty  Sermons,  i.  73. 
Robertson  (F.  W.),  Sermons,  Ist  Ser.,  36. 
Trench  (R.  C),  Sermons  in  Ireland,  1. 

Vaughan  (C.  J.),  The  Family  Prayer  and  Sermon  Book,  ii,  531. 
„        (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  2nd  Ser.,  i.  No.  251. 
Churchman's  Pulpit  (Second  Sunday  in  Lent),  v.  456  (Watson). 
Homiletic  Review,  xiii.  518  (Sherwood). 
Treasury,  xi.  1047  (Moment);  xv.  762  (Kershaw). 


Spiritual  Wrestling. 

And  Jacob  was  left  alone ;  and  there  wrestled  a  man  with  him  until  the 
breaking  of  the  day. — Gen.  xxxii.  24. 

TfflS  is  one  of  the  strangest  stories  under  which  the  Bible,  in  a 
fashion  suitable  to  the  age  in  which  it  was  written,  presents 
eternal  truth  to  us — strange  in  itself,  strange  in  its  setting,  yet 
charged  with  deep  meaning  and  full  of  most  consoling  instruction 
for  those  who  have  insight  to  pierce  the  shell  of  its  Jewish 
complexion  and  colouring,  and  to  seize  its  underlying  and 
essential  features. 

The  narrative  is  of  manifold  attraction.  The  highest  poetical 
interest  gathers  round  that  dark  wrestling  by  the  rushing  brook, 
while 

The  sentinel  stars  set  their  watch  in  the  sky. 

Our  historical  interest  also  is  excited :  what  was  it,  actually,  that 
touch  of  God  ?  But  the  spiritual  interest  of  the  scene  is  the 
intensest,  as  we  inquire  what  the  conflict  signified  for  Jacob's 
inmost  soul. 

Let  us  take  the  subject  in  three  parts — 
I.  The  Occasion  of  the  Wrestling. 
II.  The  Nature  of  the  Wrestling. 
III.  The  Result  of  the  WrestHng. 


L 

The  Occasion  of  the  Wrestling. 

1.  The  past  and  the  present. — The  time  when  this  occurred 
was  when  Jacob  was  returning  from  the  East  to  Canaan,  in  very 
different  circumstances  from  those  in  which  he  left  it.     He  went 


232  SPIRITUAL  WRESTLING 

out  with  his  staff  in  his  hand ;  he  came  back  increased  to  "  two 
bands."  He  went  out  alone,  with  life  before  him,  hopeful  perhaps 
of  happiness,  and  full  of  aspirations,  fresh  and  eager  to  run  the 
race  of  life.  He  came  back  an  altered  and  sobered  man,  with  life 
behind  him,  with  what  there  was  to  enjoy  of  it  mainly  enjoyed  ; 
and,  perhaps,  the  cup  did  not  now  seem  so  sweet  as  he  thought  it 
would  be,  before  he  put  it  to  his  lips.  At  all  events  he  had 
drunk  it  fully.  He  had  lived  a  many-sided  life.  Of  sensual 
enjoyments  he  might  seem  to  have  had  his  fill ;  and  he  was  not 
averse  to  use  the  petty  passions  of  others  as  the  means  of 
gratifying  his  own  larger  ones.  In  business  he  was  always 
fortunate.  In  those  higher  things  which  men's  hearts  crave, 
though  foiled  at  first,  he  was  at  last  victorious. 

Thus  Jacob  had  lived  a  busy,  clever,  varied  life — a  keen, 
competitive,  skilful,  successful  life  ;  and,  with  the  fruits  of  it  now 
reaped  and  gathered,  he  would  return  to  rest  in  the  home  of  his 
fathers.  It  is  sweet  to  dream  in  a  foreign  land  of  the  place  of 
one's  childhood.  Imagination  gilds  even  the  sordid  hovel  of  one's 
birth.  We  remember  but  the  good  ;  we  forget  the  evil,  or  change 
it  into  good.  And  so  Jacob  was  using  the  necromancer's  art. 
The  sunshine  and  shower  of  his  early  years  he  remembered  but 
as  sunshine.  All  the  good  stood  out  bright  before  him,  and  all 
the  evil  had  disappeared.  His  own  evil  too  was  forgotten  ;  or,  if 
remembered,  it  was  excused  and  forbidden  to  intrude  itself.  Our 
imagination  of  the  past  retains  only  the  good ;  but  God  and 
conscience  keep  in  reserve  the  evil.  Jacob  had  not  calculated  on 
finding  the  beginnings  of  his  life  so  visibly  unaltered.  Twenty 
years  had  passed  since  he  did  the  evil.  Surely  the  evil  must  have 
worked  itself  out  of  things  long  ere  now.  But  it  had  not.  It 
stood  before  him  now,  just  as  it  stood  when  he  fled  from  it  twenty 
years  before — only  more  formidable,  grown  in  bulk  and  terror, 
with  greater  power  to  do  him  hurt,  in  proportion  as  he  was  now 
more  susceptible  of  hurt.  Then  it  was  Esau,  seeking  Jacob's  life ; 
now  it  is  Esau,  with  four  hundred  men,  seeking,  not  Jacob's  life 
merely,  but  all  those  other  lives  into  which  his  has  been  par- 
titioned, and  which  are  dearer  to  him  than  his  own. 

^  It  is  a  great  spiritual  crisis  in  Jacob's  life.  That  life  might 
well  be  called,  with  no  injustice  to  Jacob,  the  History  of  a  Sin- 
Perhaps  it  is  this  very  fact   that  invests  it  with   its  enduring 


GENESIS  XXXII.  24  233 

charm.  A  life  like  Abraham's,  though  far  from  perfect,  is  yet  in 
many  respects  so  august  in  its  moral  greatness,  that,  while  we 
admire,  we  are  liable  to  be  somewhat  discouraged;  for,  in  the 
contemplation  of  so  serene  an  altitude  of  faith,  we  are  ready  to 
say,  "  It  is  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it."  But  Jacob,  so  full  of 
infirmities,  and  yet  so  desirous  of  better  things ;  now  overborne 
by  temptation,  and  now  strenuously  contending — such  a  man  is 
very  near  to  us,  and  we  are  encouraged  to  believe  that,  if  he 
conquered,  we  may  conquer  too.  "But  with  equal  truth  might 
Jacob's  life  be  called  the  History  of  a  Ketribution.  Almost  from 
first  to  last  we  see  retribution  following  and  smiting  him,  as  it 
winds  itself  into  all  the  sinuosities  of  his  career.  "  Be  sure  your 
sin  will  find  you  out"  (Num.  xxxii.  23) — with  what  relentless 
severity  did  this  law  fulfil  itself !  And  now  at  the  last,  when  he 
has  escaped  from  danger  after  danger,  although  suffering,  withal, 
BO  many  and  sore  woes  thuc  might  not  be  escaped ;  and  when, 
perhaps,  he  had  thought  the  sufferings  all  ended  and  the  dangers 
past — now,  once  more,  and  more  fearfully  than  ever,  his  old  sin 
rises  up  to  confront  and  condemn  him,  smiting  him  with  all  its 
terrors,  as  he  cries  out,  *'  Hast  thou  found  me,  O  mine  enemy  ? " 
It  is  one  of  those  crises  in  which  a  whole  eternity  is  compressed 
into  an  hour.^ 

I  sent  back  memory,  in  heedful  guise. 
To  search  the  records  of  preceding  years; 

Home,  like  the  raven  to  the  ark,  she  flies, 
Croaking  bad  tidings  to  my  trembling  ears. 

O  sun !  again  that  thy  retreat  was  made, 

And  threw  my  follies  back  into  the  friendly  shade!* 

2.  The  expected  meeting. — Jacob  had  been  guilty  of  a  great 
flin  at  the  outset  of  his  career.  He  had  deceived  his  father,  had 
resorted  to  treachery  to  obtain  the  birthright,  and  the  fact  that  that 
which  seemed  to  be  Esau's  was  really  his  own  by  promise,  though 
it  modifies  our  judgment,  does  not  alter  the  sin.  But,  however 
much  we  may  understand  that  what  he  got  in  a  wrong  way  was 
really  his  own,  Esau  did  not  choose  so  to  understand  it.  Esau 
from  the  first  had  considered  himself  a  deeply  injured  man,  as 
most  men  would,  and  during  all  these  years,  Jacob  might  reason- 
ably expect  that  Esau  had  been  nursing  and  cherishing  the  sense 
of  his  injury.  Now  they  were  to  meet  again.  Jacob  had  just  re- 
ceived the  intelligence  of  Esau's  approach,  a  meeting  was  inevit- 

'  T.  F.  fjockyer.  '  Christopher  Smart. 


234  SPIRITUAL  WRESTLING 

able,  and  the  thought  of  it  was  sufficiently  disturbing.     How  did 
Jacob  prepare  for  the  meeting  ? 

(1)  By  prayer.  —  After  receiving  the  threatening  report 
about  Esau  Jacob  retired  to  the  privacy  of  his  tent,  and  poured 
forth  the  acknowledgment  of  his  trouble  and  perplexity  in  the 
first-recorded  words  of  human  prayer.  They  are  words  which 
tell  the  want  and  vibrate  with  the  passion  of  a  human  heart.  "  I 
am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies,  and  of  all  the  truth, 
which  thou  hast  showed  to  thy  servant.  .  .  .  Deliver  me,  I  pray 
thee,  from  the  hand  of  my  brother." 

(2)  By  taking  thought  for  his  family. — Jacob,  with  a  character- 
istic prudence  that  never  forsook  him,  divided  his  company  into 
two  bands — ^in  the  first  which  would  meet  Esau  he  sent  those  for 
whom  he  least  cared,  so  that  they  might  bear  the  brunt  of  Esau's 
attack  if  he  did  attack  ;  and  so  that  the  second  band,  composed 
of  those  whom  he  loved  most,  might  be  able  to  escape. 

^  This  is  remarkable  in  the  mind,  that  it  is  steadied  by  ex- 
treme danger,  while  it  is  thrown  into  confusion  by  a  little  trouble. 
The  physician's  hand,  which  trembles  when  an  insignificant  sore 
has  to  be  lanced,  is  steady  and  firm  when  an  operation  that  may 
be  fatal  has  to  be  performed.  A  petty  encounter  worries  and 
excites  the  great  military  genius  who  is  serene  and  master  of  him- 
self in  the  thick  of  the  conflict  on  which  the  fate  of  empires  hangs. 
In  this  greatest  trouble  of  his  life,  Jacob's  mind  comes  forth  with 
a  grandeur  and  a  decisive  clearness  that  are  scarcely  credible  in 
one  habitually  crooked,  and  timid  almost  to  cowardice.  He  so 
arranges  that,  if  the  stroke  fall,  it  will  not  fall  on  all  at  once ;  if 
it  smite  some,  it  will  spare  some,  perhaps,  and  these  the  dearest. 
And  these  dispositions  made — made  for  those  for  whom  he  never 
thought  to  need  to  make  any  such  dispositions  at  all,  and  while 
they  were  ignorant  of  the  menace  hanging  over  them,  and  though 
he  knows  how  unavailing  all  may  be — he  leaves  all  in  higher 
hands.  But  unwittingly  this  care  about  others,  this  greater  earnest- 
ness for  them  than  ever  he  had  felt  for  himself,  and  this  entr\i8t- 
ing  of  them  more  sincerely  into  God's  hands  than  ever  he  had 
yet  committed  himself,  have  brought  him  nearer  to  God  than  ever 
he  has  yet  been,  or,  perhaps,  than  he  cared  to  be.' 

For  now  I  live  a  twofold  life:  my  own 
And  yet  another's ;  and  another  heart 
Which  beats  to  mine,  makes  glad  the  lonely  world 
Where  once  1  lived  apart. 

'  A.  B.  Davidson. 


GENESIS  XXXII.  24  235 

And  Kttle  lives  are  mine  to  keep  unstained, 
Strange  mystic  growths,  which  day  by  day  expand, 
Like  the  flowers  they  are,  and  set  me  in  a  fair 
Perpetual  wonderland.^ 

(3)  By  solitude. — "  And  Jacob  was  left  alone."  We  can  under- 
stand that  he  felt  he  must  be  alone  before  he  met  with  one  who 
recalled  to  him  the  bitterest  reminiscence  of  his  life.  He  had,  so 
to  speak,  to  formulate  his  position  towards  Esau ;  to  consider  his 
line  of  defence  if  he  met  him  as  an  enemy ;  to  consider  how  he 
could  meet  him  at  all.  It  was  one  of  those  moments  that  im- 
peratively demand  solitude.  The  past  has  to  be  revisited,  the 
ghosts  of  old  sius  have  to  be  faced.  In  exile  they  were  thrust 
out  of  sight;  change  of  scene,  new  interests,  had  almost  oblit- 
erated the  sense  of  his  own  wrong-doing,  but  Esau's  face  will 
bring  it  all  back  again,  and  Jacob  must  be  alone  before  he  sees 
him — alone  in  the  still  darkness,  alone  by  the  silently  flowing 
waters,  to  shape  and  to  reshape  his  life,  to  focus  his  old  self  by 
the  new  lights  which  twenty  years  of  living  had  brought  to  him. 
None  could  share  his  load — none,  not  even  Kachel,  could  be  with 
him ;  he  must  bear  his  own  burden. 

XL 

The  Nature  of  the  Wrestlinq. 

i.  A  Spiritual  Crisis. 

1.  It  should  be  observed  at  the  outset  that  this  crisis  in  the 
spiritual  experience  of  Jacob  took  place  when  he  was  well  advanced 
in  years.  Jacob  was  no  longer  a  young  man  when  ho  wrestled 
with  the  angel  in  the  dark  night  by  the  ford  of  Jabbok.  He  was 
the  father  of  many  sons,  a  man  of  property,  a  man  of  experience ; 
above  all,  he  was  a  man  who  had  long  perceived  the  ralue  of 
spiritual  things,  had  long  attached  the  highest  importance  to  that 
Divine  promise  which  had  been  transmitted  to  him  by  his  father 
Isaac,  and  who  had  made  a  solemn  vow  at  Bethel,  twenty  years 
before,  that  the  Lord  God  of  Abraham  should  be  hia  God,  and 
that  he  would  serve  Him  all  the  days  of  his  life. 

2.  There  are  those  who  would  like  to  think  that  the  crisis  of 
the  religious   life  is  reached  at  a  very  early  stage  of   spiritual 

*  Sir  Lewi«  Morris,  Poenu,  <8. 


236  SPIRITUAL  WRESTLING 

Experience,  and  that  once  passed  there  are  no  more  grounds  for 
apprehension  or  fear  or  care  or  caution.  The  story  of  the  wrestling 
of  Jacob  teaches  a  very  different  lesson.  First  comes  the  vision 
of  the  ladder — the^  dream  of  glory,  the  sense  of  Divine  protection 
and  security.  And  then,  long  afterwards — after  many  years  of 
service  and  prayer  and  worship  and  endeavour,  when  Jacob  is 
getting  on  in  years,  at  the  end  of  much  experience  and  patient 
trust — there  comes  the  struggle — all  alone  in  the  darkness — the 
struggle  that  wastes  and  draws  the  strength  of  Jacob,  the  struggle 
in  which  the  nature  and  character  of  the  man  are  finally  declared, 
and  proved  and  sealed  for  ever. 

^  Some  may  think  the  revelation  given  to  Jacob  at  Bethel, 
on  his  way  to  Padan-aram,  the  most  interesting  event  in  his 
history.  And  to  those  beginning  life  it  may  be.  There  is  an 
ideal  brilliancy  in  it,  attractive  and  fascinating.  But  that  sombre, 
stern  conflict,  beyond  the  Jordan,  in  the  grey,  unromantic  days 
of  mid-life,  is  a  profounder  study,  and  there  will  always  be  found 
gathering  round  it  those  who  know  the  imperfections  of  life,  and 
the  bright  hues  of  whose  early  expectations  have  been  toned  down 
by  the  pale  cast  of  experience.^ 

3.  In  spiritual  matters  experience  varies.  The  personal  experi- 
ence of  each  one  of  us  differs  in  some  respects  from  that  of  all 
others.  There  is  no  one  rule  that  applies  in  every  case.  With 
some,  the  way  of  life  is  a  way  of  peace  and  a  path  of  pleasantness, 
leading  the  soul  by  green  pastures  and  still  waters.  There  are 
happy,  sheltered  lives  that  never  know  the  burden  of  doubt, 
uncertainty,  and  inward  distress — never  are  sifted  like  wheat 
with  the  fan  of  the  Lord,  or  tried  in  the  refiner's  fire  of  trouble 
and  sorrow — never  feel  the  ache  of  shame  and  self-reproach,  or 
the  agony  of  a  broken  and  contrite  heart.  But  there  are  others 
for  whom  the  way  of  life  dips  into  what  is  dark  and  painful,  and 
who  have  to  fight  their  way  through  much  tribulation  towards 
the  light  of  God, — men  and  women  who,  from  nature  and 
circumstances,  from  the  weakness  and  defects  of  their  own 
character,  or  the  faults  and  mistakes  of  early  days,  or  a 
combination  of  causes  which  are  known  only  to  God,  have  to 
win  the  crown  of  life,  if  it  is  to  be  won  at  all,  with  wrestling  and 
struggling — with  a  stern,  often-renewed,  and  persistent   conflict 

'  A.  B.  DavidNoa. 


GENESIS  XXXII.  24  237 

with   themselves  and   the  world  and   the  flesh  and  the  devil — 
a  conflict  that  ends  only  with  life. 

As  men  from  men 
Do,  in  the  constitution  of  their  souls, 
Differ,  by  mystery  not  to  be  explained; 
And  as  we  fall  by  various  ways,  and  sink 
One  deeper  than  another,  self-condemned, 
Through  manifold  degrees  of  guilt  and  shame; 
So  manifold  and  various  are  the  ways 
Of  restoration,  fashioned  to  the  steps 
Of  all  infirmity,  and  tending  all 
To  the  same  point,  attainable  by  all — 
Peace  in  ourselves,  and  union  with  our  God.* 

ii.  The  Opponent. 

1.  Why  was  Jacob  thus  mysteriously  held  back  while  his 
household  was  quietly  moving  forward  in  the  darkness  ?  What 
is  the  meaning,  purpose,  and  use  of  this  opposition  to  his  entrance  ? 
The  meaning  is  obvious  from  the  state  of  mind  Jacob  was  in.  He 
was  going  forward  to  meet  Esau  under  the  impression  that  there 
was  no  other  reason  why  he  should  not  inherit  the  land  but  only 
his  wrath,  and  pretty  confident  that  by  his  superior  talent,  his 
mother- wit,  he  could  make  a  tool  of  this  stupid,  generous  brother 
of  his.  And  the  danger  was  that,  if  Jacob's  device  had  succeeded, 
he  would  have  been  confirmed  in  these  impressions,  and  have 
believed  that  he  had  won  the  land  from  Esau,  with  God's  help 
certainly,  but  still  by  his  own  indomitable  pertinacity  of  purpose 
and  skill  in  dealing  with  men.  Now,  this  was  not  the  state  of  the 
case  at  all.  Jacob  had,  by  his  own  deceit,  become  an  exile  from 
the  land,  had  been,  in  fact,  banished  for  fraud ;  and  though  God 
had  confirmed  to  him  the  covenant,  and  promised  to  him  the  land, 
yet  Jacob  had  apparently  never  come  to  any  such  thorough  sense 
of  his  sin,  and  entire  incompetency  to  win  the  birthright  for  him- 
self, as  would  have  made  it  possible  for  him  to  receive  simply 
as  God's  gift  this  land  which  was  valuable  only  as  God's  gift. 
Jacob  does  not  yet  seem  to  have  found  out  the  difference  between 
inheriting  a  thing  as  God's  gift,  and  inheriting  it  as  the  meed  of 
his  own  prowess.  To  such  a  man  God  cannot  give  the  land; 
Jacob  cannot  receive  it.     He,  in  short,  was  about  to  enter  the 

1  Wordsworth,  Tlu  Excursion. 


238  SPIRITUAL  WRESTLING 

land  as  Jacob,  the  supplanter,  and  that  would  never  do ;  he  was 
going  to  win  the  land  from  Esau  by  guile,  or  as  he  might;  and 
not  to  receive  it  from  God.  And,  therefore,  just  as  he  is  going  to 
step  into  it,  there  lays  hold  of  him,  not  an  armed  emissary  of  his 
brother,  but  a  far  more  formidable  antagonist. 

2.  From  the  first  Jacob  knows  that  it  is  a  man  that  wrestles 
with  him.  It  is  a  person — it  is  with  a  personal  will  that  he  is 
grappling.  But  after  a  time  both  adversaries  stand  out  more 
clearly.  The  morning  begins  to  break,  and  with  the  light  the 
spell  of  the  Unseen  over  the  patriarch  will  break  too.  The 
conflict  must  cease,  lest  its  advantages  be  lost.  The  heavenly 
wrestler  seeks  to  depart.  He  said,  "Let  me  go,  for  the  day 
breaketh."  And  Jacob  said,  "  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou 
bless  me."  Ere  now  there  had  begun  to  break  upon  Jacob's 
mind  some  consciousness  of  the  rank  of  his  adversary;  and 
perhaps  to  complete  it  He  touched  the  nerve  of  his  thigh  and 
paralysed  it.  And  then  the  conflict  quite  changed  its  nature, 
from  using  force,  to  mere  supplication.  And  here  the  details 
supplied  by  Hosea  come  in :  "  He  had  power  over  the  angel,  and 
prevailed:  he  wept,  and  made  supplication  unto  him"  (xii.  4). 
God  had  put  out  His  hand  upon  him  at  last,  having  allowed 
him  to  wrestle  with  Him  for  a  night — a  symbol  of  that  obstinate 
struggle  which,  in  his  confident,  unsubdued  strength  of  nature, 
he  had  been  waging  against  Him  all  his  lifetime.  His  Spirit 
cannot  always  strive  with  him:  some  decisive  stroke  must  be 
put  forth  upon  him,  to  break  him  once  for  all,  to  touch  him  in 
the  vital  part,  that,  utterly  disabled,  he  may  know  whom  he 
has  been  opposing,  and  how  vain  such  a  conflict  is. 

^  We  discuss  this  wonderful  event,  and  take  sides  as  to 
whether  it  was  a  real,  outward  thing,  or  only  a  transaction  in 
Jacob's  soul.  Some  think  it  important  to  hold  it  literal  and 
outward,  and  unsafe  to  regard  it  as  mental.  It  is  characteristic 
of  very  many  of  the  views  for  which  men  fight,  that  they  are 
excellent  things  to  fight  about,  because  there  is  no  means  of 
deciding  them.  It  is  also  occasionally  a  characteristic  of  them 
that  no  interest  whatever  attaches  to  their  decision,  one  way  of 
them  being  quite  as  good  as  another.  If  God  presented  a  real, 
outward  form  to  Jacob,  so  that  he  entered  into  a  physical  wrestling 
with  it,  it  was  very  wonderful  and  Divine.  If  God's  Spirit  of 
revelation  and  holiness  so  touched  the  conscience  and  the  memories 


pENESIS  XXXII.  24  239 

of  Jacob's  heart  that  the  agitated  spirit  deemed  itself  wrestling 
through  the  body,  and  did  indeed  in  its  own  awful  agony  agitate 
and  dislocate  the  bodily  frame,  was  it  less  wonderful  or  less 
Divine  ?  The  balance  of  probability  perhaps  lies  on  the  side  of 
the  external  reality  of  Jacob's  adversary.  Many  a  time  in  dreams 
the  whole  frame  is  agitated  and  wrestles.  Men  do  rise  weary 
after  nights  of  conflict.  They  rise  awestruck  and  terror-laden. 
Perhaps  it  cannot  be  shown  that  they  have  risen  with  bodily 
ailments,  with  sinews  wrenched  and  joints  displaced.  Rather  is 
the  event  to  be  held  literal.  An  Angel  entered  Abraham's  tent. 
He  let  His  feet  be  washed ; — the  same  who  in  after  days  washed 
His  disciples'  feet.  He  allowed  meat  to  be  set  before  Him ; — as 
in  after  times  He  asked,  "  Children,  have  ye  any  meat  ? "  And  a 
man  He  wrestled  with  Jacob ;  as  now  man  for  ever  He  wrestles 
with  us  all  in  love,  though  we  oppose  Him  in  earnest.^ 

ui.  Victory. 

1.  Jacob's  victory  and  the  victory  of  the  Angel  were  synony- 
mous. When  the  Angel  conquered  Jacob,  Jacob  won  the  blessing 
— and  so  it  always  is.  When  God  conquers  man,  man  is  victorious 
over  self.  Jacob  faced  his  sin  and  discovered  that  his  controversy 
was  jiot  so  much  with  his  brother  as  with  God.  It  was  not  Esau's 
wrath  he  had  to  dread  so  much  as  God's ;  for  the  sin  against  his 
brother  was  in  its  ultimate  ground  a  sin  against  God.  Can  he 
believe,  despite  of  this  consciousness  of  sin,  that  God  is  pacified 
toward  him  ?  And  now,  when  all  things  seem  against  him,  and 
God  Himself  sets  Himself  as  an  adversary  to  him,  in  this  darkest 
hour,  in  this  night  of  the  soul,  of  which  the  actual  night  during 
which  this  conflict  found  place  was  but  the  outward  sign,  can  he 
lay  hold  on  the  promises  and  still  hope  and  trust  and  believe  ? 
That  he  can  do  this,  that  he  is  strong  to  contend,  even  when  God 
seems  to  set  Himself,  and  for  the  time  does  set  Himself,  as  that 
adversary,  against  him,  this  it  is  that  constitutes  Jacob  a  prince 
with  God,  a  champion  who  prevails  with  Him,  and  who  therefore 
need  not  fear  but  that  he  shall  prevail  also  with  man. 

^  After  the  loss  of  his  wife,  whom  he  had  dearly  loved  and 
patiently  tended  through  prolonged  and  severe  affliction.  Dr.  John 
Brown  wrote:  "I  have  been  thinking  much  lately  of  Jacob's 
wrestling  with  the  Angel,  finding^his  weakness  and  his  strength 
at  the  same  time,  and  going  on  through  the  rest  of  his  life  halting 

^  ▲.  B.  Davidson. 


240  SPIRITUAL  WRESTLING 

and  rejoicing.  I  believe  this  is  the  one  great  lesson  of  life — the 
being  subdued  hy  God.  If  this  is  done  all  else  is  subdued  and 
won."i 

2.  "  UrUil  the  breaking  of  the  day." — That  night  which  was  the 
eve  of  Jacob's  meeting  with  Esau  had  seen  a  fierce  struggle,  but 
peace  came  with  the  break  of  day.  Jacob  was  at  peace  with  him- 
self and  God,  and  in  a  very  short  while  he  would  know  that  he 
was  at  peace  with  Esau. 

^  How  naturally  dawn  wakes  thoughts  of  victory  and  God ! 
In  her  swift,  gentle,  noiseless  triumph  over  night,  she  is  tremulous 
with  His  presence.  It  was  "  at  the  turning  of  the  morning  "  that 
"  the  Lord  overthrew  the  Egyptians  in  the  midst  of  the  sea." 
And  after  a  deliverance  no  less  thrilling  from  a  no  less  heartless 
foe,  the  Church  of  a  later  day  sang — 

God  is  in  the  midst  of  her;  she  shall  not  be  moved. 
God  helpeth  her  at  the  turning  of  the  morning. 

But  behind  the  victory  lies  a  struggle  always  fierce  and  often 
lonely  in  the  grey  dawn.  "  Jacob  was  left  alone ;  and  there 
wrestled  a  man  with  him  till  the  rising  of  the  dawn."  Such  a 
struggle  in  the  dawn  is  the  prophecy  of  a  great  and  triumphant 
day.* 

We  weep  because  the  night  is  long, 

We  laugh  for  day  shall  rise. 
We  sing  a  slow  contented  song 

And  knock  at  Paradise. 
Weeping  we  hold  Him  fast  who  wept 

For  us,  we  hold  Him  fast; 
And  will  not  let  Him  go  except 

He  bless  us  first  or  last. 

Weeping  we  hold  Him  fast  to-night; 

We  will  not  let  Him  go 
Till  daybreak  smite  our  wearied  sight 

And  summer  smite  the  snow : 
Then  figs  shall  bud,  and  dove  with  dove 

Shall  coo  the  livelong  day; 
Then  He  shall  say,  "Arise,  My  love. 

My  fair  one,  come  away."' 

'  Letters  of  Dr.  John  Broton,  176.  *  J.  E.  M'Fadyen. 

•  Christina  G,  Rossetti. 


GENESIS  XXXII.  24  241 

IIL 

The  Result  of  the  Wrestling. 

1,  One  result  is  a  changed  name. — What  an  epoch  in  his 
spiritual  life  this  was,  we  understand  best  when  we  consider  the 
name  of  Israel,  which  in  this  conflict  he  won,  and  which  hereafter 
as  a  memorial  of  his  victory  he  bore.  For,  indeed,  we  must 
contemplate  this  struggle  as  having  left  Jacob  from  that  day 
forth  a  different  man  from  what  it  found  him.  The  new  creature 
had  by  and  in  these  painful  throes  extricated  itself  for  ever  from 
the  old,  won  permanent  form  and  subsistence,  and  thus  demanded 
a  new  name  to  express  it. 

^  How  does  Jacob  learn  his  own  real  character  ?  "  What  is 
thy  name  ? " — that  is  the  searching  question  which  God  is  forcing 
down  into  the  very  depths  of  his  soul  And  what  is  he  compelled 
to  answer  ?  "  I  am  Jacob  " — a  liar,  a  supplanter,  a  deceiver  ! 
How  blackly  does  this  name  show,  in  the  pure,  burning  light  of 
that  other  name,  the  name  of  the  Holy  God !  Thus  does  Jacob 
learn  to  know  himself  and  sink  appalled.  But  the  very  con- 
fession of  the  old  name — which  indicates  the  old  character — is 
the  necessary  preliminary  to  reoeiving  the  new  name — the  new 
character. 

2.  But  a  changed  name  means  a  chatiged  man. — The  "Sup- 
planter  "  becomes  the  "  Prince."  He  has  a  new  name  because  he 
has  a  new  nature.  He  becomes  as  noble  as  he  had  been  false, 
worthy  of  the  love  and  reverence  of  his  children,  worthy  of 
standing  in  honour  before  kings;  and  a  long  train  of  genuine 
sorrow  follows  the  embalmed  remains  of  him  who  had  once  been 
a  mean  despicable  boy.  And  yet  he  remains  Jacob  stUL  For 
the  character  is  like  the  face  which  indicates  it ;  the  features  do 
not  change,  though  the  expression  does. 

^  Think  how  this  is  with  yourselves.  If  any  one  of  you  is 
changing  for  the  worse,  I  tell  you,  you  cannot  help  showing  it. 
The  shifty  look  of  deceit,  or  the  sneer  of  irreverence,  or  the 
absurd  airs  of  vanity,  or  the  dark  lowering  cloud  of  some 
secretly  cherished  sin — these,  creeping  over  the  features,  do 
not  change  them,  but  they  change  the  expression  of  the  face. 
And  so,  on  the  other  hand,  if  man  or  boy  is  passing  from  evil  to 
good,  it  is  as  if  the  mists  are  rolled  o£f  some  landscape  by  the 

GEN.-NUM. — 16 


242  SPIRITUAL  WRESTLING 

sun  as  he  climbs  the  heavens,  and  the  gloomy  scenery  is  lit  up  as 
with  the  joy  of  a  new  birth.^ 

3.  There  is  no  more  conscience  in  the  flesh. — "As  the  sun 
rose  upon  him,  he  halted  on  his  thigh."  Like  St.  Paul,  his 
"strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness."  The  result  of  Peniel 
is  not  elation ;  it  is  contrition.  There  is  joy  in  God,  but  there 
is  no  confidence  in  the  flesh. 

I         Contented  now  upon  my  thigh 
\  I  halt,  till  life's  short  journey  end; 

'         All  helplessness,  all  weakness,  I 

On  Thee  alone  for  strength  depend; 
Nor  have  I  power  from  Thee  to  move: 
Thy  nature  and  Thy  name  is  Love. 

^  It  is  this  recognition  of  conscious  weakness  that  leads  a 
man  to  grip  the  power  of  his  higher  self.  When  conscience 
wrestles  with  me,  it  is  always  in  the  form  of  a  man.  It  is  my 
higher  self  that  strives  with  me — the  Christ  within.  We  have 
all  a  higher  self — a  photograph  which  God  took  in  some  pure 
moment.  We  have  left  it  behind,  but  it  follows  us.  It  meets 
us  in  our  silent  hours.  It  confronts  us  with  the  spectacle  of 
what  we  might  have  been.  It  refuses  to  let  us  go  until  it  has 
blessed  us.  It  is  the  same  thing  as  Paul  felt  when  he  spoke 
of  the  spirit  lusting  against  the  flesh.  The  spirit  was  his 
better  photograph,  his  Christ,  his  hope  of  glory.  It  is  not  the 
actual  man  that  makes  us  feel  immortal;  it  is  the  ideal  man — 
the  man  that  might  have  been.  That  is  the  reason  why  to  me 
conscience  is  precious  even  when  it  wounds.  It  is  no  foreign 
hand  that  strikes  me ;  it  is  my  higher  self,  my  inner  man,  my 
likeness  as  God  sees  it.  It  is  the  image  of  me  that  is  hung  up  in 
heaven — the  picture  on  which  my  Father  gazes  to  avert  despair. 
It  is  not  only  with  me  that  the  man  wrestles ;  he  wrestles  with 
the  Father  for  me.  He  pleads  my  future  possibilities.  He 
suggests  my  coming  glory.  He  tells  what  I  would  be  in  less  vile 
raiment.  He  shows  what  I  may  be  with  the  ring  and  the  robe. 
He  reveals  how  I  shall  look  at  the  breaking  of  the  day.* 

Lord,  I  have  wrestled  through  the  livelong  night; 

Do  not  depart, 
Nor  leave  me  thus  in  sad  and  weary  plight, 

Broken  in  heart; 
Where  shall  I  turn,  if  Thou  shouldst  go  away. 
And  leave  me  here  in  this  cold  world  to  stay  ? 

'  U.  H.  Almond.  »  G.  MatLeson. 


GENESIS  XXXII.  24  243 

I  have  no  other  help,  no  food,  no  light. 

No  hand  to  guide; 
The  night  is  dark,  my  Home  is  not  in  sight, 

The  path  untried; 
I  dare  not  venture  in  the  dark  alone, — 
I  cannot  find  my  way,  if  Thou  be  gone. 

I  cannot  yet  discern  Thee  as  Thou  art; 

More  let  me  see; 
I  cannot  bear  the  thought  that  I  must  part 

Away  from  Thee: 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go,  except  Thou  bleps; 
Ohl  help  me,  Lord,  in  all  my  helplessness  M 
>  J.  Bhup, 


Shiloh. 


Literature. 

Blackwood  (A.),  Conference  Memories^  61. 

Harrison  (B.),  Patiently  Waiting,  79. 

Plumptre  (E.  H.),  Biblical  Studies,  36. 

Randolph  (B.  W.),  Christ  in  the  Old  Testament,  29. 

Robertson  (F.  W.),  Notes  on  Genesis,  176. 

Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpii,  ix.  Na  1167. 

Stanford  (C),  Symbols  of  Christ,  35. 

Tait  (A.  J.).  Christ  and  the  Nations,  30. 

Thome  (H.),  Bible  Readings  on  the  Book  of  Genesis,  ii.  269. 

Great  Sermons  of  the  Greai  Preachers,  385  (Erskine). 

Journal  of  Philology,  xiv.  No.  27  (Driver). 


Shiloh. 

The  sceptre  shall  not  depart  from  Judah, 

Nor  the  ruler's  staff  from  between  his  feet, 

Until  Shiloh  come  (R.V.m.  till  he  come  whose  it  is); 

And  unto  him  shall  the  obedience  of  the  peoples  be. — Gen.  xlix.  xo. 

The  passage  is  obscure  and  its  meaning  is  still  uncertain.  But 
Jews  and  Christians  alike  have  from  very  early  times  regarded 
it  as  Messianic.  In  order  to  bring  out  the  special  Messianic 
thought  which  it  contains,  let  us  (after  glancing  at  the  context) 
consider  the  position  held  in  the  line  of  prophecy  by  the  tribe 
of  Judah,  let  us  next  examine  the  meaning  and  application  of 
the  word  Shiloh,  and  then  let  us  see  how  the  thought  finds  its 
fulfilment  in  Christ. 

The  text  occurs  in  that  important  and  difficult  section  of 
Genesis  (xlix.  1-27)  which  is  called  the  Blessing  of  Jacob.  It 
is  one  of  the  oldest  pieces  of  Hebrew  poetry  that  we  possess, 
and  consists  of  a  series  of  oracles  describing  the  characters  and 
fortunes  of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel,  as  unfolded  during  the 
ages  of  the  Judges  and  under  the  early  monarchy.  That  it  was 
composed  from  the  first  in  the  name  of  Jacob  appears  clearly 
from  internal  indications ;  but  that  it  was  actually  uttered  by  the 
patriarch  on  his  death-bed  to  his  assembled  sons  is  a  hypothesis 
which  several  considerations  combine  to  render  incredible.  In 
the  first  place,  the  outlook  of  the  poem  is  bounded  by  a  particular 
historical  situation,  removed  by  many  centuries  from  the  supposed 
time  of  utterance.  No  reason  can  be  imagined  why  the  vista  of 
the  future  disclosed  to  Jacob  should  open  during  the  settlement 
of  the  tribes  in  Canaan,  and  suddenly  close  at  the  reign  of  David 
or  Solomon ;  why  trivial  incidents  like  the  maritime  location  of 
Zebulun,  or  the  "  royal  dainties  "  produced  by  Asher,  or  even  the 
loss  of  tribal  independence  by  Issachar,  etc.,  should  be  dwelt  upon 
to  the  exclusion  of  events  of  far  greater  national  and  religious 

•47 


248  SHILOH 

importance,  such  as  the  Exodus,  the  mission  of  Moses,  the 
leadership  of  Joshua,  or  the  spiritual  prerogatives  of  the  tribe  of 
Levi 

^  It  is  obvious  that  the  document  as  a  whole  has  historic 
significance  only  when  regarded  as  a  production  of  the  age  to 
which  it  refers.  (1)  The  analogy  of  O.T.  prophecy,  which  has 
been  appealed  to,  furnishes  no  instance  of  detailed  prevision  of 
a  remote  future,  unrelated  to  the  moral  issues  of  the  speaker's 
present.  (2)  In  the  next  place,  the  poem  is  animated  by  a  strong 
national  sentiment  such  as  could  not  have  existed  in  the  lifetime 
of  Jacob,  while  there  is  a  complete  absence  of  the  family  feeling 
which  would  naturally  find  expression  in  the  circumstances  to 
which  it  is  assigned,  and  which,  in  fact,  is  very  conspicuous  in  the 
prose  accounts  of  Jacob's  last  days.  (3)  The  subjects  of  the 
oracles  are  not  Jacob's  sons  as  individuals,  but  the  tribes  called 
by  their  names.  (4)  Nor  is  there  any  allusion  to  incidents  in 
the  personal  history  of  Jacob  and  his  sons  except  in  the  sections 
on  Eeuben  and  on  Simeon  and  Levi,  and  even  there  a  tribal 
interpretation  is  more  natural.  (5)  Finally,  the  speaker  is  not 
Jacob  the  individual  patriarch,  but  Jacob  as  representing  the  idea.1 
unity  of  Israel* 

I. 

JUDAH. 

1.  The  place  allotted  to  Judah  by  promise. — Let  us  consider  the 
prophecy  on  Judah  as  a  whole,  and  first,  irrespectively  of  the 
disputed  clause  (in  which  the  word  "  ShUoh "  occurs).  It  forms 
one  of  a  series  of  promises  which  are  based  upon  an  evident  plan ; 
and  if  it  is  to  be  properly  estimated  due  regard  must  be  given  to 
its  place  in  the  series.  The  promise  of  an  august  future  is  first 
given  to  Abraham  (xii.  2,  3):  then  it  is  limited  to  Isaac  alone 
among  his  sons  (xxii.  17,  xxvi  4) :  then  it  is  further  limited  to 
Jacob  (xxvii.  29).  In  chap,  xlix.,  while  abundant  blessings  for 
both  land  and  people  are  showered  upon  Ephraim,  Judah  is 
plainly  singled  out  among  the  tribes  as  the  heir  of  the  supremacy 
and  power  promised  before  to  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob 
(compare  especially  xlix.  8  and  xxvii.  29) ;  his  father's  sons  bow 
down  to  him,  and  the  symbols  of  authority  are  retained  by  him  till 
the  period  of  contest  is  over,  and  peace  (as  described  in  verse  11) 
is  secured.     More  than  this,  he  is  the  leader  of  the  tribes :  but  if 

'  J.  Skiuuer. 


GENESIS  xLix.  lo  249 

this  supremacy  be  attached  to  him,  then  he  is  the  tribe  on  which 
the  maintenance  and  future  history  of  the  theocracy  depend. 
Thus  the  prophecy  falls  into  its  place  in  the  series :  and  when, 
at  a  later  stage  of  the  history,  there  is  promised  first  (2  Sam. 
vii.  10-17)  the  permanence  of  a  particular  dynasty,  and  after- 
wards (Isa.  vii.,  ix.)  a  particular  ruler  of  the  same  dynasty,  both 
belong  to  the  same  tribe  of  Judah  here  singled  out  from  among 
the  whole  group.  However  we  interpret  verse  10,  then,  the 
prophecy  holds  its  rightful  place,  and  is  Messianic  in  that  it 
promises  an  ideal  future  to  Judah} 

^  Judea  has  been  not  merely  a  personal  but  a  national  force 
in  the  arena  of  the  world's  destinies.  All  nations  have  taken 
their  part  in  the  grand  sum-total  of  history,  but  it  is  Judea  that 
has  led  the  way,  both  in  the  understanding  and  in  the  shaping  of 
the  destinies  of  the  world.  Disraeli  hajs  boasted  that  "  the  most 
popular  poet  in  England  is  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel,"  and  that 
"  the  Divine  image  of  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Hebrews "  has 
been  again  raised  amid  the  homage  of  kneeling  millions  in  the 
most  civilized  of  the  kingdoms  of  Europe.* 

2.  Judah  the  BoyaX  Tribe. — "The  sceptre  shall  not  depart 
from  Judah,  nor  the  ruler's  staff  from  between  his  feet."  Is 
Judah  here  represented  as  possessing,  not  supremacy  or  hegemony 
only,  but  royalty  ?  In  answering  this  question  we  must  not,  of 
course,  read  the  history  into  the  prophecy ;  for  to  what  it  refers 
historically  is  just  the  matter  in  dispute.  The  question  is,  What 
image  does  the  passage  suggest  f  Is  it  the  staff  of  a  military  leader 
or  the  sceptre  of  a  king?  It  seems  to  be  the  latter.  (1)  It  is 
true  that  shehet  sopher,  in  Judg.  v.  14,  may  signify  a  marshal's 
staff,  but  sJiebet  without  any  qualification  would  surely  suggest 
a  sceptre.  (2)  The  staff  "  between  his  feet "  presents  the  posture 
of  a  king  seated  on  his  throne  rather  than  of  a  commander 
engaged  upon  active  service.  (3)  This  interpretation  is  supported 
by  the  phrase  in  verse  8,  where,  when  Joseph's  brethren  hear 
of  the  sheaves  "bowing  down"  to  him,  they  immediately  ask, 
"  Wilt  thou  be  king  over  us,"  or  "  rule  over  us  "  ?  It  is  difficult 
not  to  feel  that  the  prophecy  anticipates  for  Judah  not  hegemony 
only,  but  royalty. 

3.  Judah  the  Trihe  of  Jesus  Christ. — "  It  is  evident  that  oui 
'  S.  B.  Driver.  '  J.  Kelmao,  Ephemera  EtemitcUia,  237. 


250  SHILOH 

Lord  hath  sprung  out  of  Judah"  (Heb.  vii.  14).  The  whole 
interest  which  gathers  round  this  picture  of  royalty  centres,  for 
us,  in  Christ.  Whatever  interpretation  we  put  on  the  word 
"  Shiloh,"  its  position  and  meaning  in  the  text,  and  how  far  the 
original  thought  of  the  writer  must  be  connected  with  the 
ultimate  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy,  we  shall  not  go  wrong  in 
connecting  the  "  Sceptre  "  of  Judah  with  the  reign  of  the  Messiah 
Jesus.  We  know  that  the  historic  Christ  of  the  Gospels,  fore- 
shadowed in  the  Old  Testament,  has  sprung  from  the  royal 
historic  tribe  of  Judah.  "  The  lion  that  is  of  the  tribe  of  Judah, 
the  root  of  David,  hath  overcome "  (Rev.  v.  5).  "  And  he  shall 
reign  for  ever  and  ever  "  (Eev.  xL  15). 

H 

Shiloh. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  translated  "  until  Shiloh 
come  "  ? 

1.  The  main  difficulty  of  the  passage  centres  round  this  clause. 
If  "  Shiloh "  be  a  personal  name,  it  must  be  significant ;  but  it 
cannot  mean  "peaceful"  or  " peace-bringer,"  which  have  been 
sometimes  suggested;  nor  is  there  any  allusion  to  "Shiloh"  as 
a  title  of  the  Messiah  in  any  other  part  of  the  Bible ;  nor  is  the 
word  so  taken  here  in  any  ancient  version.  The  name  as  a  title 
of  the  Messiah  is  first  found  in  a  fanciful  passage  of  the  Talmud 
(Sank.  98''),  where  the  present  passage  is  quoted. 

^  The  rendering  UntU  Shiloh  come  is  found  in  no  version 
earUer  than  those  of  the  sixteenth  century  (Seb.  Munster,  1534, 
and,  following  him,  the  "  Great  Bible,"  1539-41,  and  other  English 
versions).^ 

2.  The  first  margin  of  the  Revised  Version  "  till  he  come  to 
Shiloh  "  is  grammatically  unexceptionable.  It  was  proposed  first 
in  modern  times  by  W.  G.  Teller  in  1766,  was  adopted  by  Herder 
and  Ewald,  and  also  by  Delitzsch,  Dillmann  (provisionally ;  for 
he  thinks  that  a  really  satisfactory  explanation  is  not  to  be  found), 
and  Strack,  in  their  Commentaries.  In  favour  of  this  view 
Delitzsch  urgea  the  great  philological  difficulty  alluded  to  above, 

*  S.  B.  DrivOT. 


GENESIS  xLix.  lo  251 

aa  attaching  to  the  popular  explanation  of  the  name  "  Shiloh,"  and 
observes  that  elsewhere  in  the  Old  Testament  the  word  denotes 
regularly  the  place  of  that  name  in  the  tribe  of  Ephraim :  then, 
looking  at  the  history,  he  supposes  the  reference  to  be  to  the 
assembling  of  Israel  at  Shiloh  described  in  Josh,  rviii,  when, 
the  period  of  wandering  and  conflict  being  now  over,  Judah,  it 
may  be  supposed,  lost  the  pre-eminence,  or  tribe- leadership  held 
by  it  before :  the  "  obedience  of  the  peoples "  was  realized 
primarily  in  the  victories  of  David,  while  at  the  same  time  it 
would  include  that  ideal  relation  of  Israel  to  the  heathen,  of 
which  the  prophets  speak  more  distinctly.  Upon  this  view,  as 
no  royalty  attached  to  Judah  at  this  early  time,  shebet  in  verse  10 
will,  of  course,  denote  not  a  "  sceptre,"  but  a  "  staff,"  the  symbol 
of  military  power,  and  must  be  rendered  accordingly. 

^  This  view  is  set  forth  in  a  specially  attractive  form  by 
Herder.  We  see  Judah,  the  honoured  of  his  brethren,  victorious 
after  battle,  marching  in  triumphal  progress  to  the  national 
sanctuary  (1  Sam.  i.-iv.),  and  there  laying  down  the  emblem  of 
authority  in  order  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  peace,  while  the  nations 
round  bow  submissive  to  his  sway.  It  is,  however,  very  doubtful 
whether  it  can  be  sustained ;  and  in  spite  of  the  names  that  can 
be  quoted  for  it,  it  has  not  been  viewed  with  favour  by  recent 
scholars.  Thus  it  is  historically  doubtful  whether  Judah  really 
enjoyed  that  early  pre-eminence  in  a  united  Israel,  which  this 
interpretation  postulates  for  it:  Judah  had  no  particular  con- 
nexion with  Shiloh  (which  was  in  the  tribe  of  Ephraim)  \  and 
it  seems  natural  to  think  of  shebet  in  verse  10  as  suggesting 
"sovereignty,"  rather  than  merely  tribal  or  military  pre- 
eminence.^ 

3.  The  rendering  '*  until  that  which  is  his  shall  come,"  pro- 
posed as  the  second  alternative  in  the  margin  of  the  Revised 
Version,  is  grammatically  quite  legitimate.  It  is  more  legitimate 
on  the  whole,  than  the  third  alternative,  "  till  he  come  whose  it 
is."  But  this  last  rendering  seems  to  give  the  best  sense.  The 
"  it "  would  refer  to  the  kingdom,  and  the  meaning  would  be  that 
the  government  shall  not  depart  from  Judah  till  He  comes  to 
whom  of  right  belongs  all  authority  and  power.  Ezekiel  almost 
certainly  is  thinking  of  this  early  prophecy  when  in  a  Messianic 
passage  he  says,  "  And  thou,  0  deadly  wounded  wicked  one,  the 

^  S.  R.  DtiT«T. 


252  SHILOH 

prince  of  Israel  whose  day  is  come  .  .  .  thus  saith  the  Lord, 
Remove  the  mitre  and  take  off  the  crown :  this  shall  be  no  more 
the  same :  exalt  that  which  is  low,  and  abase  that  which  is  high. 
I  will  overturn,  overturn,  overturn  it :  this  also  shall  be  no  more, 
until  he  come  whose  right  it  is;  and  I  will  give  it  to  him" 
(Ezek.  xxi.  25-27). 

^  We  obtain  a  prophecy,  in  flowing,  parallelistic  rhythm,  of 
that  ideal,  Messianic  king,  whom  Isaiah  saw  in  prophetic  vision, 
and  of  whom  he  said  that  "  His  rule  should  be  ample  "  (ix.  7),  and 
that  "  unto  him  should  the  nations  seek  "  (xi.  10). 

Bender  therefore — 

The  sceptre  shall  not  depart  from  Judah, 

Nor  the  staff  (of  authority)  from  between  his  feet, 

Until  he  come  for  whom  it  (i.e.  the  dominion)  is  appointed, 

And  to  him  be  the  obedience  of  peoples, 

the  meaning  of  which  will  be,  "  The  dominion  granted  to  Judah 
shall  give  place  only  to  a  far  wider  monarchy,  viz.  that  of  the 
Messiah."  * 

m. 

Christ. 

L  The  Comingf. 

1.  Now  turn  from  questions  of  exegesis,  with  their  necessary 
limitations  and  Jewish  colouring,  to  the  thought  of  Messianic 
prophecy  and  its  fulfilment  from  a  purely  Christian  standpoint. 
St.  Paul  says,  "  When  the  fulness  of  the  time  came,  God  sent  forth 
his  Son"  (Gal.  iv.  4).  This  is  the  light  in  which  the  New 
Testament  writers  view  all  Old  Testament  prophecy.  It  is 
certain  that  God's  revelation  of  His  plan  was  gradual,  but  how 
gradual,  and  when  men  were  first  permitted  to  participate  in  the 
unfolding  of  His  plan,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  know.  The  advent 
of  the  Messiah  has  been  compared  to  the  growth  of  a  plant ;  we 
cannot  discern  its  beginning,  but  we  can  watch  it  through  succes- 
sive stages  until  it  comes  to  the  perfect  bloom.  So  with  the 
approach  to  the  "  fulness  of  the  time  "  of  which  St.  Paul  speaks. 
One  "Anointed  One"  after  another  succeeded  to  the  throne  ol 
Judah,  but  the  long-expected  Messiah  tarried.  And  yet  through 
all  these  darker  ages  may  be  traced  the  growth  and  development 

>  T.  K.  Ghajuo. 


GENESIS  xLix.  lo  253 

in  the  unfolding  of  God's  plan  until  it  reached  the  full  fruition  ^ 
in  the  Messiah  Jesus.     "  The  Word  became  flesh  and  dwelt  among 
us."    But  "He  came  unto  His  own  and  His  own  received  Him 
not." 

For  as  warm  love  falls  wholly  unperceived 

Into  our  hearts 
Amid  the  careless  riot  of  our  days, 

So  came  He  then. 
And  at  the  sweetness  of  His  infant  smile 

The  hallow'd  earth 
Thro'  all  her  being  thrilled  with  pulse  of  spring 

Each  little  bulb 
Hid  in  the  dark  recesses  of  her  heart, 

And  ev'ry  seed 
And  root,  felt  it  and  trembled,  and  they  said, 

"Now  is  He  come 
That  knows  and  loves  us  all."     And  on  fields, 

And  on  the  hills 
Around,  there  shone  the  glory  of  the  Lord; 

And  no  one  knew.^ 

2.  Do  we  say  that  there  is  a  great  leap  between  the  teaching 
of  the  Old  Testament  and  that  of  the  New  ?  Perhaps  this  is  true, 
but  the  leap  is  not  unprepared  for.  No  one  can  read  the  Book  of 
Wisdom  without  being  struck  with  the  many  points  of  similarity 
between  its  teaching  and  the  theology  of  the  Apostle  Paul 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  was  one  of  the  most  important 
sources  from  which  he  drew  the  materials  out  of  which  he  con- 
structed his  philosophy  of  the  Christian  religion.  In  this  book 
there  is  a  wonderful  passage  about  the  Divine  Word  which, 
though  figurative  in  language,  and  set  in  the  midst  of  Jewish 
thought,  seems  to  transport  us  into  Christian  Theology  and  the 
language  of  St.  John.  It  bridges  the  gulf  between  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  the  New :  "  For  while  peaceful  silence  enwrapped  all 
things,  and  night  in  her  own  swiftness  was  in  mid  course,  thine 
all-powerful  Word  leaped  down  from  heaven  out  of  the  royal 
throne  "  (Wisd.  xviii.  14,  15). 

%  The  sun  sets  on  the  24th  of  December  on  the  low  roofs  of 
Bethlehem,  and  gleams  with  wan  gold  on  the  steep  of  its  stony 
ridge.     The  stars  come  out  one  by  one.     Time  itself,  as  if  sentient, 

1  Ruth  R.  Chadwiok. 


254  SHILOH 

seems  to  get  eager,  as  though  the  hand  of  its  augel  shook  as  it 
draws  on  towards  midnight.  Bethlehem  is  at  that  moment  the 
veritable  centre  of  God's  creation.  How  silently  the  stars  drift 
down  the  steep  of  the  midnight  sky !  Yet  a  few  moments,  and 
the  Eternal  Word  will  come.^ 

like  silver  lamps  in  a  distant  shrine, 

The  stars  are  sparkling  bright; 
The  bells  of  the  city  of  Grod  ring  out, 

For  the  Son  of  Mary  was  born  to-night; 
The  gloom  is  past,  and  the  morn  at  last 

Is  coming  with  orient  light. 

Never  fell  melodies  half  so  sweet 
As  those  which  are  filling  the  skies; 

And  never  a  palace  shone  half  so  fair 

As  the  manger  bed  where  our  Saviour  lies; 

No  night  in  the  year  is  half  so  dear 
As  this  which  has  ended  our  sighs. 

U.  The  Purpose  of  the  Coming. 

The  ultimate  purpose  of  His  coming  is  expressed  by  St.  Paul 
in  two  sentences,  one  of  which  is  found  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Ephesians,  the  other  in  the  companion  Epistle  to  the  Colossians. 

1.  It  is  God's  purpose,  says  the  Apostle,  to  "  gather  together 
in  one  all  things  in  Christ "  (Eph.  i.  10).  This  corresponds  with 
the  Authorized  translation  of  our  text:  "Unto  him  shall  the 
gathering  of  the  people  be."  Christ  is  the  centre.  God  will 
exalt  Him.  The  world  may  despise  Him.  In  Psalm  Ixii  we 
read,  "  They  only  consult  to  cast  him  down  " ;  and  in  Psalm  ii., 
"The  kings  of  the  earth  and  the  rulers  take  counsel  together 
against  the  Lord  and  against  his  Anointed."  But  Jehovah  has 
said,  "  My  purpose  shall  stand,  and  I  will  fulfil  all  my  pleasure." 
Though  earth  and  hell  conspire  to  prevent  it,  "  Unto  him  " — the 
Christ  of  God — "  shall  the  gathering  of  the  people  be." 

^  This  is  a  gathering  together  of  scattered  things,  simdered 
things,  things  which  ought  to  be  living  in  fruitful  harmony,  but 
which  are  rioting  in  alienation  and  revolt.  It  is  the  gathering 
together  of  distracted  and  wasteful  members  round  about  the 
governance  of  a  common  head.     It  implies  the  ending  of  a  riotous 

'  F.  W.  Faber. 


GENESIS  xLix.  lo  255 

independence,  and  of  sluggish  and  selfish  apathy,  and  a  welding 
together  of  many  members  into  a  blessed  and  prosperous  unity. 
How  is  the  gathering  together  effected  ?  Let  me  illustrate.  You 
take  a  handful  of  steel  filings  and  scatter  them  over  the  surface  of 
a  sheet  of  paper.  There  they  lie,  severed  and  apart,  each  one  by 
itself,  having  no  communion  with  the  others.  Now  take  a  strong 
magnet  and  draw  it  beneath  the  under  surface  of  the  paper. 
What  happens  ?  Each  of  the  steel  filings  stands  erect,  and  the 
whole  company  moves  across  the  page  in  orderly  and  co-operative 
movement.  Each  item  was  first  of  all  pervaded  by  the  common 
power  of  the  magnet,  and  then  in  the  strength  of  the  common 
pervasion  all  the  items  moved  in  fellowship.* 

^  It  is  most  essential  to  heaven,  that  the  material  universe 
should  be  brought  into  perfect  harmony  with  it ;  and  it  is  just  as 
essential  to  the  peace  and  glory  of  the  material  universe  that  it 
should  become  harmonious  with  heaven.  Neither  can  be  complete 
without  the  other.  "  As  it  is  in  heaven,  so  on  earth."  Is  not  this 
sweet  equilibrium  between  the  material  and  the  spiritual,  and 
between  both  and  God,  precisely  the  mystery  of  His  will  "  which 
from  everlasting  he  purposed  in  himself  "  ?  * 

2.  The  second  sentence  is  found  in  Col.  I  18,  "  That  in  all 
things  he  might  have  the  pre-eminence."  This  corresponds  with 
the  translation  of  our  text  which  has  been  adopted  in  the  fore- 
going exposition :  "  Until  he  shall  come  whose  it  (the  kingdom  or 
dominion)  is."  Our  lives  are  failures  if  we  give  not  Christ  the 
first  place.  He  is  the  beginning  and  the  ending.  If  we  fail  to 
exalt  Him  and  give  Him  the  pre-eminence,  work  must  be  barren, 
souls  must  be  famished,  all  must  come  to  naught ;  if  we  are  not 
one  with  God  in  this  great  purpose,  we  must  be  defeated.  But 
oh,  how  blessed  when,  by  the  gracious  leading  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
we  are  in  communion,  in  sympathy  with  the  Father,  and  we  let 
Him  whom  He  will  exalt  take  the  first  place. 

^  Christ  is  King  and  Lawgiver.  To  Him  all  government 
rightly  belongs.  He  must  reign  till  He  hath  put  all  enemies 
under  His  feet.  He  came  once  in  humility  and  weakness ;  He 
will  come  again  "  with  power  and  great  glory."  He  is  gone  away, 
like  the  king  in  His  own  parable,  "to  receive  for  himself  a 
kingdom  and  to  return."  The  blessing  of  God  rests  on  the  nation 
or  family  in  which  Jesus  Christ  reigns  supreme.  If  His  empire 
is  established  in  a  family,  then  nothing  else  matters ;  no  trials  or 
bereavements  or  losses  are  of  any  real  importance  if  we  can  truly 
»  J.  H.  Jowett.  "  J.  Pulsford. 


256  SHILOH 

say,  "  Jesus  Christ  is  the  real  Master  in  this  house."  And  what 
is  true  of  the  family  is  true  of  the  individual  souL  If  Christ  is 
reigning  in  the  soul,  nothing  else  matters;  so  the  practical 
question  for  each  of  us  is  just  this,  Does  Jesus  Christ  reign  in  my 
heart  ?  If  Christ  were  to  come  again  this  month,  this  week,  or 
this  very  day,  whom  would  He  find  occupying  the  throne  of 
my  heart?  Would  He  find  every  thought  brought  under  His 
obedience  ?  If  we  cannot  say  as  much  as  this,  can  we  truly  say 
that  we  are  aiming  at  this  ideal,  that  we  are  struggling  towards 
it,  that  we  are  beating  back  pride  and  worldUness  and  lust,  and 
striving  to  keep  our  imagination  and  thoughts  in  check,  owning  as 
Hia  loyal  subjects  the  empire  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  soul  ?  ^ 

^  Browning's  conception  of  Christ's  supremacy  does  not  rest 
on  any  morality  He  may  have  possessed  or  taught,  though 

Morality  to  the  uttermost. 
Supreme  in  Christ  we  all  confess, 

but  upon  His  own  person,  as  He  Himself  claimed. 

Does  the  precept  run,  "Believe  in  good, 
In  justice,  truth,  now  understood 
For  the  first  time  "  ? — or,  "  Believe  in  me 
Who  lived  and  died,  yet  essentially 
Am  Lord  of  Life"? 

And  this  carries  with  it  the  faith  that  the  Gospel  brings  to  man, 
not  merely 

A  motive  and  injunction 
For  practising  what  we  know  already, 
but 

A  new  truth;  no  conviction  gains 
Of  an  old  one  only,  made  intense, 
By  a  fresh  appeal  to  his  faded  sense. 

UL  The  Consummation  of  the  Kingdom. 

1.  Though  Christ  reigns  a  King  for  ever,  we  have  still  to  look 
forward  to  the  time  when  all  shall  own  His  universal  sway. 
"  Weep  not,"  said  one  of  the  Elders  to  St.  John,  "  behold  the  Lion 
that  is  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  hath  overcome."  In  Genesis  we 
read,  "  Judah  is  a  lion's  whelp :  from  the  prey,  my  son,  thou  art 
gone  up."    And  how  does  this  describe  the  Saviour — that  "  Lion 

'  B.  AV.  fi*ndolph. 


GENESIS  xLix.  lo  ^57 

of  the  tribe  of  Judah  " — that  strong  and  mighty  Lion  who  entered 
into  conflict  with  the  lion  of  the  pit  and  overcame  him  ?  From  the 
prey  He  has  gone  up  again,  up  into  His  glory,  gone  up  beyond  the 
stars,  up  to  the  Eight  Hand  of  the  Infinite  Majesty,  there  to  sit 
in  perpetual  peaceful  triumph.  "  He  stooped  down,  he  couched  as 
a  lion,  as  an  old  lion."  The  lion  may  have  been  an  emblem  that 
befitted  the  son  of  Jesse.  The  lion  couchant  might  have  been  fitly 
chosen  for  his  heraldic  device,  when  the  Lord  had  delivered  him 
out  of  the  hand  of  all  his  enemies  and  of  Saul.  Yet  with  how 
much  more  propriety  may  this  emblem  be  emblazoned  on  the 
arms  of  Prince  Emmanuel !  Did  He  not  stoop  down  ?  Was  ever 
such  a  stoop  as  His  ?  Let  Him  be  crowned  with  majesty  who 
bowed  His  head  to  death.  It  is  for  this  that  He  deserves  to 
conquer,  because  He  was  willing  to  submit  to  shame  and  death 
itself  for  the  sake  of  His  people.  How  glorious  it  is  to  think  that 
He  has  gone  up,  seeing  that  He  once  came  down ! 

2.  What  are  the  ideas  associated  with  this  title,  "  lion  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah  ? "  Chiefly  these  two — (1)  Personal  strength  and 
courage,  and  (2)  Deliverance. 

(1)  Take,  first,  the  idea  of  personal  strength  and  courage.  You 
may  search  the  annals  of  bravery  through,  and  you  will  find  no 
bravery  comparable  to  that  of  Jesus  Christ.  Our  Lord's  gentle- 
ness was  not  weakness,  and  His  love  was  not  effeminacy. 
Beneath  the  gentleness  and  the  love — nay,  in  it,  there  was  a 
courage  the  like  of  which  the  world  has  never  seen.  And  our 
Lord's  courage  displays  itself  most  gloriously  in  the  fact  that  He 
faced  the  Cross. 

(2)  And  the  other  idea  associated  with  the  name  "Lion  of 
the  tribe  of  Judah  "  is  that  of  deliverance.  That  is  perhaps  the 
principal  idea  suggested  by  the  title.  The  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah  was  to  be  a  great  Liberator,  a  great  Emancipator.  And 
though  perhaps  the  Jews  of  our  Lord's  day  did  not  realize  it,  all 
the  prophets'  predictions  as  to  the  liberating  and  emancipating 
side  of  Messiah's  work  were  fulfilled  in  the  Lamb  slain.  The 
Lamb  slain  was  the  Lion  who  delivered.  Only  it  was  a  better 
and  fuller  deliverance  than  the  Jews  had  expected.  For  the 
deliverance  the  Jew  expected  was  merely  a  national  and  political 
deliverance.     The  emancipation  he  looked  for  was  emancipation 

GEN.-NUM. — 17 


25S  SHILOH 

from  the  foreign  yoke.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Jew  suffered 
from  a  far  more  awful  bondage  than  the  bondage  of  Eome.  He 
was  in  bondage  to  sin.  Yes,  and  not  he  only,  but  all  the  wide 
world,  lay  groaning  beneath  this  terrible  burden  of  sin.  And  it 
was  from  this  far  more  grievous  burden  and  from  this  far  more 
galling  bondage  that  Jesus  came  to  deliver  men.  You  remember 
that  it  was  as  a  Deliverer  that  He  was  announced.  "  Thou  shalt 
call  his  name  Jesus,"  said  the  angel  to  Joseph,  "  for  it  is  he  that 
shall  save  his  people  from  their  sins." 

^  "  The  Lion  and  the  Lamb."  This  illustrates  more  than  the 
contrast  between  the  Christ  of  Jewish  expectation  and  the  Christ 
of  history ;  it  illustrates  the  contrast  between  Jewish  expectation 
and  the  Divine  purpose.  The  Jews  looked  to  see  power  and  force, 
whereby  all  their  foes  should  be  destroyed,  and  instead  of  that 
they  saw  gentleness  and  tenderness  and  sacrificial  love.  Their 
method  of  realizing  the  kingdom  was,  shall  I  say,  "the  mailed 
fist " ;  God's  method  of  realizing  the  kingdom  was  by  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Cross.  While  the  whole  nation  was  on  the  alert,  waiting 
for  some  voice  to  announce  the  advent  of  the  Deliverer  and  to 
say,  "  Behold,  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,"  the  voice  of  John 
the  Baptist  fell  upon  their  ears  with  quite  a  different  announce- 
ment. "  Behold,"  he  said,  "  the  Lamb  of  God " — the  Lamb  of 
God's  own  providing.  It  was  not  God's  purpose  to  subdue  the 
world  by  force ;  it  was  His  purpose  to  win  it  by  love.^ 

Both  guns  and  swords  are  strong,  no  doubt, 

And  so  are  tongue  and  pen, 
And  so  are  sheaves  of  good  bank-notes 

To  sway  the  souls  of  men. 

But  guns  and  swords,  and  gold  and  thought. 

Though  mighty  in  their  sphere, 
Are  sometimes  feebler  than  a  smile, 

And  poorer  than  a  tear. 

k  J.  D.  JooM. 


The  Burning  Bush. 


*S9 


Literature. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  On  the  Trail  of  Moses,  33. 
Campbell  (R.  J.),  Sermom  Addressed  to  Individuals,  207. 
Davies  (D.  C),  The  Atonement  and  Intercession  of  Christ,  162, 
Gunsaulus  (F.  W.),  Paths  to  Potoer,  9. 

Liddon  (H.  P.),  Bampton  Lectures  (Our  Lord's  Divinity),  53. 
Maclaren  (A.),  Expositions  :  Exodus,  Leviticus,  and  Numbers,  19. 
Macmillan  (H.),  Hie  Garden  and  the  City,  80. 
McNeill  (J.),  Regent  Square  Pulpit,  i.  97. 

Neale  (J.  M.),  Sermons  Preached  in  Sackville  College  Chapel^  iv.  251. 
Norton  (J.  N.),  Short  Sermons,  305. 
Parker  (J.),  The  City  Temple,  ii.  (1872)  51. 
Peabody  (F.  G.),  Mornings  in  the  College  Chapel,  2nd  Ser.,  95. 
Penn-Lewis  (Mrs.),  Face  to  Face,  34. 
Stanford  (C),  Symbols  of  Christ,  61. 
Vaughan  (D.  J.),  The  Days  of  the  Son  of  Man,  209. 
Wilson  (S.  L.),  Helpful  Words  for  Daily  Life,  197. 
Woodrow  (S.  Q.),  Christian  Verities,  34. 
British  Congregationalist,  July-Dec,  1908,  102  (Jowett). 
Christian,  World  Pulpit^  xliv.  20  (Mackay) ;  Iviii.  246  (Muir) ;  IxvL 
267  (Cleal). 


The  Burning  Bush. 

And  the  angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  unto  Moses  in  a  flame  of  Are  out 
of  the  midst  of  a  bush :  and  he  looked,  and,  behold,  the  bush  burned  with 
fire,  and  the  bush  was  not  consumed. — Ezod.  iii.  2. 

1.  It  was  a  very  sharp  descent  from  Pharaoh's  palace  to  the 
wilderness;  and  a  shepherd's  life  was  a  strange  contrast  to  the 
brilliant  future  that  oiice  seemed  likely  for  Moses.  But  God 
tests  His  weapons  before  He  uses  them,  and  great  men  are 
generally  prepared  for  great  deeds  by  great  sorrows.  Solitude  is 
"  the  mother-country  of  the  strong,"  and  the  wilderness,  with  its 
savage  crags,  its  awful  silence,  and  the  unbroken  round  of  its 
blue  heaven,  was  a  better  place  to  meet  God  in  than  the  heavy 
air  of  a  palace,  or  the  profitless  splendours  of  a  court. 

2.  Among  the  desolate  solitudes  of  Horeb,  occasional  fertile 
spots  are  to  be  found.  A  thin  alpine  turf  covers  the  soil,  whose 
verdure  forms  a  delightful  contrast  to  the  awful  sterility  of  the 
naked  rocks  around.  A  perennial  spring  oozes  up  in  some  shady 
cleft,  and  sends  its  scanty  rill  down  the  mountain-side,  marking 
its  course  among  the  crags  by  a  green  streak  of  moss  and  grass 
which  its  life-giving  waters  have  nourished.  To  one  of  these 
little  oases  Moses  led  the  flock  of  Jethro,  his  father-in-law,  at  the 
close  of  his  sojourn  in  this  secluded  region.  He  had  probably 
given  up  all  thought  of  Israel's  deliverance,  which  had  been  the 
dream  of  his  youth  ;  and  in  the  peaceful  and  monotonous  occupa- 
tion of  a  shepherd  hoped  to  end  his  days.  But  God  had  a  higher 
destiny  in  view  for  him,  for  which  he  had  been  insensibly  trained 
by  his  meditative  employment  amid  the  solemn  influences  of  the 
lonely  hills.  This  was,  unknown  to  himseK,  to  be  the  last  day 
of  his  shepherd  life.  The  skill  and  fidelity  which  had  been 
exerted  in  tending  sheep  were  to  find  nobler  scope  for  their 
exercise  in  guiding  and  training  men. 

%6, 


262  THE  BURNING  BUSH 


The  Preparation  of  Mosks. 

1.  "  In  process  of  time  the  king  of  Egypt  died,"  probably  the 
great  Kameses,  no  other  of  whose  dynasty  had  a  reign  which 
extended  over  the  indicated  period  of  time.  If  so,  he  had  while 
living  every  reason  to  expect  an  immortal  fame  as  the  greatest 
among  Egyptian  kings,  a  hero,  a  conqueror  on  three  continents, 
a  builder  of  magnificent  works.  But  he  has  won  only  an  immortal 
notoriety.  "Every  stone  in  his  buildings  was  cemented  with 
human  blood."  The  cause  he  persecuted  has  made  deathless  the 
banished  refugee,  and  has  gibbeted  the  great  monarch  as  a  tyrant, 
whose  misplanned  severities  wrought  the  ruin  of  his  successor  and 
his  army.  Such  are  the  reversals  of  popular  judgment ;  and  such 
the  vanity  of  fame. 

Nought  but  a  gust  of  wind  is  earthly  fame. 

Which  blows  from  this  side  now,  and  now  from  that, 
And,  as  it  changes  quarter,  changes  name. 

Renown  of  man  is  like  the  hue  of  grass, 

Which  comes  and  goes;  the  same  sun  withers  it, 
Whereby  from  earth  the  green  plant  raised  was.^ 

2.  "  The  children  of  Israel  sighed  by  reason  of  the  bondage, 
and  they  cried."  Another  monarch  had  come  at  last,  a  change 
after  sixty-seven  years,  and  yet  no  change  for  them  !  It  filled 
up  the  measure  of  their  patience,  and  also  of  the  iniquity  of 
Egypt.  We  are  not  told  that  their  cry  was  addressed  to  the 
Lord ;  what  we  read  is  that  it  reached  Him,  who  still  overhears 
and  pities  many  a  sob,  many  a  lament,  which  ought  to  have  been 
addressed  to  Him,  and  is  not.  Indeed,  if  His  compassion  were 
not  to  reach  men  until  they  had  remembered  and  prayed  to  Him, 
who  among  us  would  ever  have  learned  to  pray  to  Him  at  all  ? 
Moreover  He  remembered  His  covenant  with  their  forefathers 
for  the  fulfilment  of  which  the  time  had  now  arrived.  "  And  God 
saw  the  children  of  Israel,  and  God  took  knowledge  of  them." 

3.  While  this  anguish  was  being  endured  in  Egypt,  Moses  was 
maturing  for  his  destiny.     Self-reliance,  pride  of  place,  hot  and 

>  Daiit«,  PuTf.  xL  100  2,  116-17  (trww.  by  Paget  Toyiiboe). 


EXODUS  III.  2  263 

impulsive  aggressiveness,  were  dying  in  his  bosom.  To  the 
education  of  the  courtier  and  scholar  was  now  added  that  of  the 
shepherd  in  the  wilds,  amid  the  most  solemn  and  awful  scenes 
of  nature,  in  solitude,  humiliation,  disappointment,  and,  as  we 
learn  from  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  enduring  faith.  Words- 
worth has  a  remarkable  description  of  the  effect  of  a  similar 
discipline  upon  the  good  Lord  Clifford.    He  tells — 

How  he,  long  forced  in  humble  walks  to  go, 
Was  softened  into  feeling,  soothed,  and  tamed. 

Love  had  he  found  in  huts  where  poor  men  lie, 
His  daily  teachers  had  been  woods  and  rills, 
The  silence  that  is  in  the  starry  sky. 
The  sleep  that  is  among  the  lonely  hills. 

In  him  the  savage  virtues  of  the  Eace, 
Eevenge,  and  all  ferocious  thoughts  were  dead: 
Nor  did  he  change;  but  kept  in  lofty  place 
The  wisdom  which  adversity  had  bred. 

There  was  also  the  education  of  advancing  age,  which  teaches 
many  lessons,  and  among  them  two  which  are  essential  to 
leadership — the  folly  of  a  hasty  blow,  and  of  impulsive  reliance 
upon  the  support  of  mobs.  Moses  the  man-slayer  became  ex- 
ceeding meek ;  and  he  ceased  to  rely  upon  the  perception  of  his 
people  that  God  by  him  would  deliver  them.  His  distrust, 
indeed,  became  as  excessive  as  his  temerity  had  been,  but  it  was 
an  error  upon  the  safer  side.  "Behold,  they  will  not  believe 
me,"  he  says,  "  nor  hearken  unto  my  voice." 

IF  It  is  an  important  truth  that  in  very  few  lives  the  decisive 
moment  comes  just  when  it  is  expected.  Men  allow  themselves 
to  be  self-indulgent,  extravagant,  and  even  wicked,  often  upon  the 
calculation  that  their  present  attitude  matters  little,  and  they  will 
do  very  differently  when  the  crisis  arrives,  the  turning-point  in 
their  career,  to  nerve  them.  And  they  waken  up  with  a  start 
to  find  their  career  already  decided,  their  character  already 
moulded.  As  a  snare  shall  the  Day  of  the  Lord  come  upon  all 
flesh ;  and  as  a  snare  come  all  His  great  visitations  meanwhile. 
When  Herod  was  drinking  among  bad  companions,  admiring  a 
shameless  dancer,  and  boasting  loudly  of  his  generosity,  he  was 
sobered  and  saddened  to  discover  that  he  had  laughed  away  the 
life  of  his  only  honest  adviser.    Moses,  like  David,  was  "  following 


264  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

the  ewes  great  with  young,"  when  summoned  by  God  to  rule  His 
people  Israel.  Neither  did  the  call  arrive  when  he  was  plunged 
in  moody  reverie  and  abstraction,  sighing  over  his  lost  fortunes 
and  his  defeated  aspirations,  rebelling  against  his  lowly  duties. 
The  humblest  labour  is  a  preparation  for  the  brightest  revelations, 
whereas  discontent,  however  lofty,  is  a  preparation  for  nothing. 
Thus,  too,  the  birth  of  Jesus  was  first  announced  to  shepherds 
keeping  watch  over  their  flock.  Yet  hundreds  of  third-rate  young 
persons  in  every  city  in  this  land  to-day  neglect  their  work,  and 
unfit  themselves  for  any  insight,  or  any  leadership  whatever,  by 
chafing  against  the  obscurity  of  their  vocation.^ 

4.  When  the  hopes  of  his  youth  were  dead,  buried,  and 
forgotten,  when  his  fiery  spirit  was  tamed  into  patience,  and  his 
turbulent  passion  stilled  into  solemn  repose — at  last,  Moses  came 
out  of  school.  Then,  but  not  until  then,  was  he  openly  consecrated 
as  God's  missionary  to  rescue  the  Israelites  from  their  grinding 
bondage  and  their  great  despair ;  to  organize  them  into  a  nation, 
to  give  them  their  holy  laws,  and  to  be  their  leader  along  a 
pathway  of  miracle  to  the  Promised  Land.  Not  a  lesson  had 
been  left,  not  a  moment  had  been  lost,  for  he  needed  the  weary 
discipline  and  gathered  force  of  all  those  quiet  years  before  he 
could  obey  his  high  vocation  and  do  his  great  work  well. 

^  In  darkness,  underneath  the  January  rime  and  frost,  God 
is  getting  ready  the  royal  glories  of  June.  The  flower  that  is  to 
burst  open  to  the  sun  at  a  certain  hour  six  months  hence,  He  has 
even  now  in  hand.  By  silent  and  mystical  touches  He  is  already 
educating  the  tree  to  bear  its  autumnal  clusters,  and  it  is  His 
ordination  that  there  shall  be  eleven  months  of  husbandry 
for  one  month  of  harvest.  In  the  spiritual  field  you  may  trace 
the  action  of  the  same  law.  Man  is  often  in  haste ;  God  never. 
We  would  give  the  largest  measure  of  time  to  results ;  He  gives 
the  largest  measure  to  preparations.  We  burn  with  eagerness  to 
bring  our  instrumentalities  into  action,  for  we  are  apt  to  value 
that  agent  most  whose  work  makes  most  show  in  a  report,  or 
whose  life  is  longest  before  the  public  eye.  He,  on  the  contrary, 
often  brings  His  most  honoured  servants  through  a  long  strain  of 
trial  and  a  long  path  of  obscurity  to  fit  them  for  some  short 
service  that  is,  after  all,  unknown  to  human  fame ;  for  a  single 
word  spoken  in  a  breath,  or  a  single  deed,  over  and  done  in  a  day, 
may  heighten  the  joy  of  heaven,  and  break  into  issues  that  will 
flow  on  for  ever.     Years  may  be  needful  to  prepare  you  for  saying 

1  G.  A.  Ohadwick. 


EXODUS  III.  2  265 

"  Yes  "  or  "  No  "  in  some  one  critical  moment,  and  many  a  man  may 
be  in  training  all  his  life  for  the  work  of  life's  last  hour.  We 
sometimes  try  to  reap  in  sowing  time,  but  He  never  sends  forth 
fruit  until  the  season  is  fitted  for  the  fruit,  and  the  fruit  for 
the  season.^ 

Look  not  thou  down  but  up  1 

To  uses  of  a  cup, 
The  festal  board,  lamp's  flash  and  trumpet's  peal, 

The  new  wine's  foaming  flow, 

The  Master's  lips  a-glow ! 
Thou,  heaven's  consummate  cup,  what  need'st  thou  with  earth's 
wheel  ? 

But  I  need,  now  as  then. 

Thee,  God,  who  mouldest  men; 
And  since,  not  even  while  the  whirl  was  worst, 

Did  I, — to  the  wheel  of  life 

With  shapes  and  colours  rife. 
Bound  dizzily, — mistake  my  end,  to  slake  Thy  thirst: 

So,  take  and  use  Thy  work: 

Amend  what  flaws  may  lurk. 
What  strain  o'  the  stuff,  what  warpings  past  the  aim ! 

My  times  be  in  Thy  hand ! 

Perfect  the  cup  as  planned ! 
Let  age  approve  of  youth,  and  death  complete  the  same !  • 

II. 

The  Approach  op  God. 

1.  When  in  this  or  in  any  other  scene  of  holy  story  we  meet 
with  One  who  wears  the  supreme  name,  yet  holds  a  subordinate 
office;  who  is  God,  yet  sent  by  God;  God,  yet  seen;  God,  yet 
heard — who  is  this  "  Traveller  unknown "  ?  Not  the  Divine 
Father,  "  for  he  dwelleth  in  secret."  Besides,  in  the  economy  of 
grace  the  Father  is  evermore  the  sender,  the  Son  the  sent.  It 
must,  therefore,  be  the  Son.  This  thought  is  our  only  outlet  from 
a  maze  of  contradictions.  Through  all  time,  at  first  by  His  visits 
to  our  world  as  a  celestial  stranger ;  at  last  by  His  life  as  a  man, 
Christ  has  been  "  the  angel  of  the  Lord." 

*  C.  Stanford.  '  Browning,  Babbi  Ben  Ezra. 


266  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

^  It  would  be  absurd  to  seek  the  New  Testament  doctrine  of 
the  Logos  full-blown  in  the  Pentateuch.  But  it  is  mere  prejudice, 
unphilosophical  and  presumptuous,  to  shut  one's  eyes  against  any 
evidence  which  may  be  forthcoming  that  the  earliest  books  of 
Scripture  are  tending  towards  the  last  conclusions  of  theology ; 
that  the  slender  overture  to  the  Divine  oratorio  indicates  already 
the  same  theme  which  thunders  from  all  the  chorus  at  the  close.^ 

^  Too  often  the  term  "  angel "  has  for  us  a  cloudy  and  inde- 
terminate meaning ;  but  we  should  resolve  to  make  it  clear.  We 
are  apt  to  use  it  as  a  term  of  race,  and  to  distinguish  the  natives 
of  heaven  as  angels,  just  as  we  distinguish  the  natives  of  earth 
as  men.  But  it  is  in  reality  a  term  of  office,  simply  meaning  an 
envoy,  a  messenger,  one  who  is  sent.  Doubtless  any  heavenly 
being  who  is  sent  on  an  errand  of  love  to  this  globe  is  for  the 
time  an  angel ;  but  One  there  is  above  all  others  who  deserves 
the  name  of  angel.  Sent  not  only  out  from  the  unknown 
heavens,  but  out  from  the  very  essence  and  depth  of  the  unknown 
God;  sent  to  reveal  God's  heart;  sent  to  translate  the  Divine 
nature  into  the  conditions  of  human  nature,  and  to  make  the 
Divine  Being  not  only  conceivable  by  that  which  is  finite,  but 
approachable  by  that  which  is  fallen ;  sent  to  discover  and  accom- 
plish the  Father's  purposes  of  grace,  and  to  fetch  home  to  Him 
each  lost  and  wandering  child — Jesus  is  the  Prince  of  Mission- 
aries, "the  Envoy  extraordinary,  the  Evangelist  supreme,"  the 
angel  whom  all  other  angels  worship,  and  round  whose  throne 
thunders  at  this  moment  the  mingled  music  of  a  numberless 
company,  ceasing  not  day  or  night  to  ascribe  to  Him  all  the 
glory  of  redemption.* 

2.  "  Behold,  the  bush  burned  with  fire,  and  the  bush  was  not 
consumed."  Here  we  approach  a  study  in  symbols.  The  vision  of 
a  bush  burning  with  fire  which  did  not  consume  it  was  full  of 
symbolic  meaning  to  Moses.  What  he  saw  outwardly  with  the 
natural  eye,  he  was  able  to  discern  inwardly  with  the  spiritual 
eye,  because  he  was  ready  to  see  and  hear  what  God  would  teach 
him. 

Earth's  crammed  with  heaven. 

And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God; 

But  only  he  who  sees,  takes  off  his  shoes. 

^  A  bush  on  fire  with  no  human  hand  to  set  it  alight,  no  fuel 
to  keep  it  burning — it  was  just  a  picture  to  Moses  of  what  God 

»  O.  A.  Chadwick.  »  0.  Stanford. 


EXODUS  III.  2  267 

could  do  with  him,  and  a  picture  to  the  people  of  God  for  all 
time,  of  the  grace  of  Him  who  is  willing  to  dwell  in  human 
beings  as  lowly,  as  insignificant,  as  the  little  thorn  bush  on  the 
Mount  of  Horeb.^ 

^  It  needed  no  great  flame  to  reduce  a  bush  quickly  into 
a  heap  of  white  ashes.  If,  as  in  that  arid  region  might  well 
have  been  the  case,  the  bush  was  scorched  and  withered — its 
leaves  dead  and  limp,  its  branches  dry  and  sapless — the  flame 
would  make  all  the  speedier  work  with  it.  But  the  thorn  was 
not  consumed ;  no  branch  or  twig  or  leaf  was  even  scorched  or 
singed ;  the  flame  played  round  it  as  innocuously  as  the  sunset 
glory  burns  in  a  belt  of  wood.  The  Alpine  traveller  is  familiar 
with  one  of  the  most  beautiful  sights  of  that  beautiful  region. 
At  sunrise  the  serried  pines  projected  against  the  sky  on  some 
mountain-ridge  appear  robed  in  dazzling  brightness.  The  stems 
and  branches  lose  their  opacity,  and  shine  with  a  transparent 
glory;  while  the  leaves  are  burnished  till  they  seem  like 
angel's  wings  or  fragments  of  the  sun  itself.  As  harmlessly  as 
the  sunrise  glows  in  the  Alpine  pines,  so  harmlessly  did  the 
mysterious  flame  envelop  the  bush  in  the  desert,  because  the 
Angel  of  the  Covenant  dwelt  in  it.  His  presence  restrained 
the  devouring  fire,  as  afterwards  it  held  in  leash  the  stormy 
winds  and  waves  of  Gennesaret.  The  law  of  nature  was 
subject  to  the  stronger  law  of  the  Divine  will.  He  made  His 
minister  here  a  flame  of  fire,  and  the  fire  fulfilled  His  word.' 


in. 

The  Symbolism  of  the  Burning  Bush. 

"  Moses  said,  I  will  turn  aside  now,  and  see  this  great  sight, 
why  the  bush  is  not  burnt."  We  must,  like  Moses,  turn  aside  to 
discern  the  symbols  which  lie  beneath  the  vision.  The  symbolism 
of  the  Burning  Bush  has  been  variously  explained. 

1.  Some  regard  it  as  typical  of  the  incarnation  and  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  and  the  glory  that  should  follow.  The 
thorny  bush  represents  the  humiliation  and  degradation  of  the 
Son  of  God  when  He  came  into  our  world  and  assumed  the  like- 
ness of  sinful  flesh ;  the  flame  that  enveloped  it  is  an  emblem  of 
the  intensity  of  suffering   which   He  endured  in  our  room  and 

*■  Mn.  Penn-Lewis,  Face  to  Fau,  89.  *  H.  Macmillao. 


268  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

stead  from  men  and  devils,  and  from  the  Father  Himself ;  while 
the  faot  that  the  bush  was  unconsumed  shadows  forth  His 
triumph  over  all  His  sufferings — over  death  and  the  grave.  In 
visionary  form  we  have  here  pictured  to  us  the  altar,  the  victim, 
and  the  sacrifice  of  the  great  atonement. 

2.  But  the  Burning  Bush  has  also  been  taken  to  represent  the 
condition  of  the  Church.  It  was  exactly  suited  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  children  of  Israel  at  the  time.  It  was  the  true 
likeness  of  their  sufferings  in  the  furnace  of  affliction  in  Egypt. 
The  thorny  bush  was  a  fit  emblem  of  their  character  and  position. 
As  the  plant  was  stunted  and  depressed  by  the  ungenial  character 
of  its  situation,  creeping  over  the  barren  rock,  scorched  by  the 
sun,  and  seldom  visited  by  the  kindly  dew  and  rain  and  breeze, 
its  stems  producing  thorns  instead  of  graceful  leaf  and  blossom- 
laden  branches ;  so  the  Hebrew  slaves,  in  their  dreary  bondage, 
were  morally  and  intellectually  dwarfed,  and  developed,  under  the 
influence  of  these  unfavourable  circumstances,  the  baser  and 
more  abject  aspects  of  their  nature.  The  thorn  in  the  wilderness 
recalls  the  primeval  curse  upon  man ;  and  we  have  in  the  suffer- 
ings of  Israel  a  repetition  of  the  sufferings  of  our  first  parents 
after  their  expulsion  from  Paradise.  The  same  cause  which  pro- 
duced the  one  produced  the  other.  The  thorns  of  Adam's  lot 
were  the  very  same  as  those  that  stung  the  Hebrews  in  Egypt. 
And,  by  God's  appearance  in  the  thorn  bush,  we  have  the  great 
fact  of  redemption  shadowed  forth,  that  God  Himself  has  gone 
with  us  into  the  wilderness  to  be  the  sharer  of  our  doom  while 
redeeming  us  from  it.  It  is  a  striking  thought  that  in  the  very 
thorn  of  man's  curse  appeared  the  shining  Angel  of  the 
Covenant  to  bless  him ;  that  out  of  the  very  wood  of  the  thorn 
bush,  which  was  the  symbol  of  man's  degradation,  was  constructed 
the  tabernacle  which  was  the  symbol  of  his  exaltation  through 
the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God. 

Thou  art  burning  on,  thou  ancient  tree, 

With  unabated  flame; 
The  fires  of  earth  have  beat  on  thee, 

And  thou  art  still  the  same: 
Thou  art  not  lessened  in  degree, 

Nor  tarnished  in  thy  name. 


EXODUS  III.  2  269 

Thou  hast  two  sides  of  thy  life  on  earth; 

One  has  in  dust  its  share, — 
It  blends  with  scenes  of  pain  and  dearth, 

It  touches  eommon  care : 
The  other  seeks  a  higher  birth, 

And  branches  arms  of  prayer. 

Oh,  Church  of  the  Uving  Lord  of  all, 

Like  Him  to  thee  is  given 
A  common  life  with  those  that  fall, 

And  an  upper  life  in  heaven; 
A  being  with  the  weak  and  small, 

And  a  path  where  stars  are  driven. 

Thy  starlight's  glow  shall  put  out  the  fires 

That  check  thine  earthly  way ; 
The  burning  of  thy  pure  desires 

Shall  burn  thy  dross  away, 
And  in  the  love  thy  Christ  inspires 

Thou  shalt  endure  for  aye.^ 

3.  Another  aspect  in  which  we  may  conaridar  the  parable  of 
the  Burning  Bush  is  in  the  light  it  casts  upon  the  nature  of  God. 
That  light  has  been  broadening  and  brightening  from  the  time 
of  Moses  down  even  to  our  own  age.  Consider  how  God  reveals 
Himself  here,  as  the  fire  which  burns,  but  does  not  consume. 

(1)  In  the  world  of  matter. — To  the  careless  eye  it  seems 
that  the  fire  of  decay  is  for  ever  burning  up  and  destroying  the 
material  things  we  see  around  us;  but  science  teaches  us  that 
this  is  quite  false,  and  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  destruction 
possible  in  God's  universe.  You  may  grind  a  stone  to  the  finest 
powder  and  dissipate  it  to  all  the  winds  of  heaven,  but  it  is  not 
in  your  power  to  annihilate  the  finest  atom  of  it ;  it  is  conceiv- 
ably possible  to  gather  together  all  the  infinitesimal  fragments, 
when  the  weight  would  be  found  to  be  exactly  what  it  was 
before  its  cohesion  was  interfered  with.  You  may  take  solid 
iron  and  heat  it  till  it  becomes  first  soft  as  wax,  then  fluid  like 
water,  and  next  is  changed  into  vapour;  but  by  so  doing  you 
only  alter  its  condition;  you  cannot  destroy  the  least  particle 
of  it.  The  pool  of  water,  when  the  sun  has  dried  it  all  away, 
is  not  non-existent,  it  is  only  expanded  into  mist :  it  becomes  part 

1  G.  Matheson,  Sacred  Songs,  138. 


270  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

of  the  cloud  which  anon  will  descend  again  upon  the  earth  in 
the  shape  of  rain.  The  tree  which  after  standing  for  centuries 
slowly  dies  and  crumbles  beneath  the  withering  finger  of  decay, 
though  it  disappears  from  the  visible  universe,  is  not  really 
destroyed ;  in  the  shape  of  carbon  and  silica  and  of  various  gases 
every  particle  of  it  is  as  certainly  in  the  universe  as  ever  it  was, 
and  will  be  worked  up  anew  into  flower  and  pebble  and  hving 
thing.  And  so  it  is  with  all  that  is  to  be  found  in  God's  creation. 
In  his  popular  lecture  on  the  burning  of  a  candle,  Faraday  shows 
that  when  the  candle  has  burnt  to  its  socket  and  apparently  been 
annihilated  altogether,  every  particle  of  its  constituent  elements 
can  be  gathered  together  again  and  weighed  and  measured. 
^  When  Goethe  makes  Nature  sing — 

Here  at  the  roaring  loom  of  time  I  ply 

And  weave  for  God  the  garment  thou  seest  Him  by; 

and  when  Tennyson  asks — 

The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the  seas,  the  hills  and  the  plains — 
Are  not  these,  0  soul,  the  Vision  of  Him  who  reigns  ? 

they  are  only  putting  into  poetic  form  that  which  is  a  distinct 
truth  of  revelation.  And  if  the  material  universe  is  thus  a 
manifestation  of  God,  science  has  made  it  abundantly  evident 
that  the  fire  which  burns  but  does  not  consume,  is  the  aptest 
possible  symbol  by  which  its  nature,  and  the  nature  of  the  God 
who  made  it,  can  be  set  forth  to  man.^ 

^)  Amid  the  play  of  the  forces  that  are  in  the  world. — Almost 
the  most  important  truth  which  science  has  demonstrated  is  that 
which  is  known  as  the  Conservation  of  Energy;  it  establishes 
the  fact  that  force,  like  matter,  is  indestructible,  and  that  it  is 
a  fixed  quantity  in  the  universe.  To  the  uninstructed  mind  it 
seems  that  energy  is  always  being  not  only  dissipated  but 
destroyed;  but  this  is  just  as  impossible  as  that  matter  should 
be  destroyed.  When  the  blacksmith  strikes  his  anvil  till  his 
arm  grows  weary,  the  force  expended  is  not  lost ;  it  has  simply 
changed  its  form  from  animal  energy  to  heat,  as  is  proved  by 
the  anvil  growing  hot.  The  energy  residing  in  the  steam  which 
drives  our  locomotives  and  our  machinery  existed  in  the  shape 

«  A.  M.  Mackay. 


EXODUS  III.  i  271 

of  heat  in  the  glowing  fires  which  created  the  eteam ;  and 
before  that  it  lay  for  centuries  latent  or  hidden  in  the  coal, 
which  was  dug  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth ;  and  earlier  still, 
long,  long  ages  ago,  it  manifested  itself  in  vegetable  energy,  for 
what  is  now  coal  was  once  living  forest ;  and  earlier  still  it  was 
manifested  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  which  was  taken  up  into  the 
growing  trees :  so  that  in  one  sense  the  light  and  heat  which 
our  fires  give  forth  are  just  the  sunbeams  which  have  been  for 
ages  imprisoned  and  hoarded  up  for  the  use  of  man.  And  while 
we  can  thus  trace  backward  the  force  which  drives  the  engine, 
we  can  follow  it  after  it  has  done  its  work.  It  is  neither  lost 
nor  destroyed.  It  is  dissipated  into  the  atmosphere  in  the 
form  of  heat,  and  perhaps  will  next  manifest  itself  in  an 
electrical  form,  in  the  tempest  which  rends  the  air  and  wraps 
the  heavens  in  flame.  All  this  is  not  mere  conjecture.  Just 
as  it  can  be  shown  by  delicate  experiment  that  the  candle  which 
has  burnt  to  its  socket  is  still  in  existence  in  its  every  atom,  so 
it  is  shown  by  the  dynamometer  that  force  never  is  and  never  can 
be  lost.  There  is  always  the  appearance  of  the  annihilation  of 
energy;  there  is  never  the  reality.  Force  also  resembles  the 
bush  which  Moses  saw;  it  is  ever  burning,  yet  it  is  never 
consumed.  And  when  we  remember  that  all  energy,  as  all 
matter,  comes  from  God  and  is  a  manifestation  of  God,  we 
perceive  how  truly  the  vision  which  Moses  saw  was  a  symbol 
of  the  nature  and  the  mode  of  operation  of  the  Great  "  I  AM  " 
who  creates  and  sustains  all  things. 

^  There  is  unity  amid  all  diversity,  persistence  amid  all 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  visible  universe.  Let  us  once  truly 
grasp  this  truth,  and  we  shall  no  longer  be  moved  to  melancholy 
by  the  reflection  that  "  change  and  decay  in  all  around  we  see." 
We  shall  be  able  believingly  to  say  to  God — 

Though  earth  and  man  were  gone, 

And  suns  and  universes  ceased  to  be, 

And  Thou  wert  left  alone,  v. 

Every  existence  would  exist  in  Thee: 

There  is  not  room  for  Death, 

Nor  atom  his  might  could  render  void; 

Thou,  Thou  art  Being  and  Breath, 

And  what  Thou  art  may  never  be  destroyed. 


272  THE  BURNING  BUSH 

(3)  In  the  sphere  of  life. — Life,  we  know,  comes  from  God. 
His  is  the  Spirit  which  animates  all  living  things;  in  Him  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being.  In  fact,  He  is  the  Life: 
it  is  only  when  He  letteth  His  breath  go  forth  that  the  face 
of  the  earth  is  renewed,  and  men  and  the  lower  creatures  are 
created.  And  of  life  we  may  make  exactly  the  same  statement 
as  we  have  made  of  matter  and  of  force  :  it  is  indestructible.  It 
may  change  its  form  and  its  mode  of  manifestation :  but  it  cannot 
be  annihilated  or  destroyed.  Life  in  the  universe — ^like  matter 
and  like  force — seems  to  the  uninstructed  mind  to  burn  to  the 
socket  and  to  go  out ;  there  seems  to  be  such  a  thing  as  death : 
but  in  sober  reality  we  may  well  accept  the  poet's  dictum  that 
"  There  is  no  death ;  what  seems  so  is  transition."  Nature 
herself  gives  us  a  hint  of  this.  In  autumn  there  seems  to  be 
a  final  decay  and  dissolution,  but  it  is  only  life  disguising  herself 
and  going  into  hiding ;  spring  shows  that  there  has  been  no 
real  diminution  of  the  vital  forces  in  our  world,  but  probably 
rather  an  increase. 

1  Nature  gives  us  no  such  unassailable  proof  of  the  indestructi- 
bility of  life  as  she  does  of  the  indestructibility  of  force  and  of 
matter.  Eather,  at  first  glance,  she  would  seem  to  show  us  that 
the  individual  life  can  be  destroyed,  for  we  cannot  trace  it  as  we 
can  the  individual  atom  of  matter  and  of  force ;  its  place  in 
this  world  knows  it  no  more.  But  this  only  points  us  to  the 
fact  that  there  is  an  invisible,  a  spirit  world,  which  we  cannot 
reach  by  our  material  senses.  For  the  analogy  of  Nature  will 
not  let  us  for  one  moment  suppose  that  life  can  really  be 
annihilated.  If  science  teaches  one  thing  more  clearly  than 
another  it  is  this,  that  there  is  Unity  in  Nature.  If  matter 
cannot  be  destroyed,  if  force  cannot  be  destroyed,  we  may 
feel  certain  that  neither  can  life.  If  it  be  objected  that  we 
cannot  see  what  has  become  of  the  soul  after  death, 
it  is  a  sufficient  reply  to  say  that  neither  could  men  in 
Moses'  time  have  known  what  became  of  material  substances 
when  they  were  burned  with  fire  and  disappeared  from  all 
human  cognizance. 

The  flame  may  rise,  the  bush  may  burn 

In  deserts  lone  and  bare : 
There  is  no  waste  of  any  bloom 

While  God  is  present  there. 


EXODUS  III.  2  273 

The  sun  of  human  joy  may  set 

Behind  the  stormy  Cross : 
While  faith  within  the  twilight  kneels 

There  is  not  any  loss. 

Some  homeless  prayer  may  be  at  night 

A  wanderer  on  the  moor, 
But  while  it  names  the  Blessed  Name 

It  never  can  be  poor. 

(4)  We  find  a  meaning  for  the  vision  in  history. — This  vision 
would  teach  Moses,  and  surely  it  should  teach  us,  that — in  spite 
of  all  appearances  to  the  contrary — there  is  permanence  under- 
lying God's  purposes  and  will,  and  the  love  which  informs 
those  purposes.  Moses  may  have  heard  of  the  promises  made 
to  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  concerning  their  descendants, 
that  they  should  become  a  great  nation  and  should  be  a  bless- 
ing to  all  the  world.  How  had  God  kept  His  promises?  The 
Israelites  for  centuries  had  been  degraded  and  ill-used  as  hardly 
any  other  nation  before  or  since.  Would  it  not  seem  that  God 
had  changed  His  intentions  and  had  forgotten  to  be  gracious? 
But  no,  it  was  in  appearance  only — as  the  bush  burned  but  was 
not  consumed.  And  now  at  last  the  time  had  come  which  was 
to  explain  the  past  and  make  glorious  the  future. 

IT  Let  us  believe  that  God's  will  is  unchangeable,  and  at 
the  very  moment  of  seeming  frustration  is  completing  itself. 
Exercise  tliis  faith  with  regard  to  any  question  that  perplexes. 
It  is  not  the  will  of  our  Heavenly  Father  that  one  of  earth's 
little  ones  should  perish.  He  willeth  that,  all  men  should  be 
saved  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  Believe  that 
He  will  have  His  will.  If  it  is  written  that  "our  God  is  a 
consuming  fire,"  it  must  be  a  fire  that  consumes  only  the  chaff, 
only  the  evil  in  men.  This  is  the  meaning  of  all  sorrow  and 
discipline  on  earth,  and  I  believe  it  will  one  day  be  seen  to  be 
the  meaning  of  what  we  speak  of  as  eternal  punishment.  So  far 
as  there  is  a  spark  of  good  left  in  a  bad  man,  the  fire  of  God's 
love  will  burn,  but  not  consume.  Believe  that  God's  purpose  will 
not  be  frustrated  in  the  accomplishment  of  that "  one  far-off  Divine 
event  to  which  the  whole  creation  moves."  And  believe  meanwhile 

That  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet; 

That  not  one  life  shall  be  destroy'd, 

Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 
When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete. 

GEN.-NUM. — 18 


The  Eternal  Name. 


»7^ 


LiTERATURB. 

Chadwick  (0.  A.),  The  Book  of  Exodus,  64. 

Gibson  (J.  Q.),  Stepping -Stones  to  Life,  181. 

Leckie  (J.),  Sermons  Preached  at  Tbrox,  36. 

Pierce  (C.  C),  27k  Hunger  of  the  Heart  for  Faith,  71. 

Sadler  (M.  F.),  Sermon  Outlinetfor  the  Clergy  and  Lay  Preachere,  118 

Stanford  (C),  Symbols  of  Christ,  74. 

Vaughan  (J.),  Sermoru  (Brighton  Pulpit),  xxii.  No.  1242. 

Christian  World  Pulpit,  xxx.  269  (Pryce) ;  lix.  362  (Clifford). 

Churchman's  Pulpit  (Fifth  Sunday  in  Lent),  vi.  175  (Peabody). 

Thdnker^  i.  324  (Lowe). 


The  Eternal  Name. 

And  Moses  said  unto  God,  Behold,  when  I  come  unto  the  children  of 
Israel,  and  shall  say  unto  them.  The  God  of  your  fathers  hath  sent  me  unto 
you ;  and  they  shall  say  to  me,  What  is  his  name  ?  what  shall  I  say  unto 
them?  And  God  said  unto  Moses,  I  AM  THAT  I  AM  :  and  he  said,  Thus 
shalt  thou  say  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  I  AM  hath  sent  me  unto  you.— 
Ezod.  iii.  13,  14. 

A  NEW  day  was  dawning  for  Israel — the  day  of  exodus — the  era 
of  national  development — in  which  each  man  was  to  have  a  part 
unknown  before.  National  expansion  always  involves  new  views, 
new  terms,  fresh  adjustments,  and  changed  ideals.  And  as  Israel 
faced  a  new  life,  there  was  given  a  new  view  of  God  and  new 
terms  were  chosen  for  its  definition. 

The  text  suggests  three  things — 
I.  The  Necessity  for  the  Nama 
II.  The  Meaning  of  the  Name. 
III.  The  Bevelation  in  the  Name. 


The  Necessity  foe  the  Name. 

1.  Why  did  Moses  ask  to  know  the  name  of  God  ? — The  reason, 
as  the  text  tells  us,  was  not  primarily  to  satisfy  himself,  but  that 
he  might  possess  credentials  wherewith  he  could  approach  this 
stubborn  people.  He  had  just  been  gazing  at  the  burning  bush, 
and  by  that  sight  he  had  been  taught  that  the  place  where  God 
reveals  Himself  is  holy  ground  and  that  His  presence  should  ever 
inspire  reverence  and  holy  fear.  God  appeared  to  Moses  with  a 
message,  and  Moses  was  charged  to  deliver  it.  Whereupon,  over- 
whelmed by  the  commission,  he  urged :  "  But  who  am  I  that  I 
should  go  in  to  Pharaoh  and  that  I  should  bring  forth  the 
Children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt  ? "     Moses  recognized  his  own 


278  THE  ETERNAL  NAME 

insufl&ciency.  Unless  he  could  tell  the  Israelites  and  Pharaoh 
in  whose  name  he  was  sent,  he  knew  that  it  would  be  useless  to 
undertake  the  commission. 

IF  The  naming  of  an  heir  to  a  throne  is  regarded  as  not  un- 
worthy of  debate  and  argument  by  grave  and  aged  ministers  of 
State.  Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  on  succeeding  to  the 
throne,  styled  himself  Edward  vii.,  thus  making  an  appeal  to  the 
noblest  traditions  of  the  English  past.  It  was  with  deliberate 
intention  that  the  late  Emperor  of  Germany  called  himself 
Frederick  William,  and  that  his  son,  the  present  Emperor,  chose 
the  name  of  William.  So  the  assumption  of  a  title  by  the  Popes, 
who  at  their  accession  to  the  tiara  drop  their  own  names,  and 
choose  a  new  one  from  those  borne  by  the  first  Bishops  of  the 
Eoman  See,  is  watched  with  great  interest  as  affording  an  in- 
dication of  the  probable  policy  and  character  of  the  coming 
pontificate.  It  was  with  relief  that  the  world  heard  Cardinal 
Eicci  take  the  style  of  Leo  xiii.,  rather  than  that  of  Pius,  or 
Gregory,  or  Clement,  or  Sixtus.  No  one  can  imagine  that  the 
late  Emperor  of  the  French  could  have  held  his  throne  for 
sixteen  years  had  he,  whose  baptismal  appellation  was  Louis 
Napoleon,  preferred  to  be  known  as  Louis  xix.,  instead  of 
Napoleon  iii.^ 

2.  What  did  the  commission  of  Moses  mtan  ? — The  Israelites 
without  faith  could  not  come  near  to  God.  Sinful  as  they  were, 
they  could  not,  if  they  dared,  behold  the  glory  of  God.  They 
could  not  even  behold  the  face  of  Moses  when  it  shone  with  the 
radiance  of  God's  glory;  still  less  could  they  understand  the 
revelation  of  God's  loving,  ever-abiding  presence  which  He 
vouchsafed  to  His  true  servant.  This,  then,  was  the  commission 
given  to  Moses  first  of  all — to  interpret  God — in  so  far  as  he 
could  understand  and  interpret  the  incomprehensible — to  this 
faithless  people. 

%  When  the  people  of  Israel  crowded  for  the  first  time  into 
the  House  of  God  which  Solomon  had  reared,  the  king,  on  bended 
knees  and  with  uplifted  hands,  exclaimed :  "  Behold,  heaven  and 
the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain  thee,  how  much  less 
this  house  which  I  have  builded."  It  is  the  spirit  in  which  the 
Infinite  should  ever  be  approached  by  the  finite.  As  no  space 
can  enclose  Him,  so  no  name  can  contain  Him.  Human  speech, 
which  can  clothe  the  things  of  man  in  pompous  attire,  is  poor, 
ragged,   and   beggarly   when   brought   near   the  throne  of   God. 

» C.  0.  Edmunds. 


EXODUS  III.  13,  14  279 

Even  the  holy  angels,  whose  faculties  have  never  been  beclouded 
by  sin,  and  who  know  the  nearest  and  fullest  revelations  of  God, 
bow  before  the  Ineffable  Unknown,  the  Unutterable  One.  Our 
words,  then,  which  only  glance  superficially  at  earthly  things  and 
never  reach  their  depths,  how  can  they  fitly  describe  or  contain 
the  Infinite,  the  Holy  God,  in  whom  is  all  fulness  of  perfection, 
whom  we  have  never  seen,  and  whom  by  faith  alone  we 
approach  ?  ^ 

3.  To  interpret  God  in  any  degree  a  name  is  necessary. — No 
name  indeed  can  ever  set  God  forth,  yet  some  name  we  must 
have.  Accordingly  we  revere  the  name  of  God  as  well  as  God 
Himself,  and  say:  "Hallowed  be  thy  name";  for  though  the 
name  is  only  a  name,  as  in  any  other  case,  yet  it  sets  before  us 
what  no  other  name  can — it  sets  before  us  a  living  God. 

IT  My  father  named  me  after  Boardman,  that  dauntless  hero 
who  preceded  Judson  in  missionary  work  among  the  Karens. 
When  I  was  old  enough  I  read  the  history  of  the  struggles, 
sufferings,  and  achievements  of  that  brave  young  man.  His  name, 
which  I  so  unworthily  bear,  has  been  to  my  soul  an  abiding 
and  unfailing  inspiration.  Luther,  Calvin,  Knox,  Bunyan,  and 
Carey  were  long  ago  gathered  to  their  fathers ;  but  the  power  of 
their  names  is  still  invoked  wherever  Christian  workmen  need  a 
higher  courage,  a  steadier  purpose,  and  a  more  fervent  zeal.  But 
there  is  a  name  above  every  name — a  name  which  is  reconstruct- 
ing our  disordered  planet,  re-creating  our  fallen  and  ruined 
humanity,  and  which  stands  everywhere  for  the  sweetest  charities 
of  earth,  the  synonym  of  the  purest  life,  and  the  symbol  of  the 
highest  civilization;  a  name  which  carries  healing  to  the 
wounded,  rest  to  the  weary,  pardon  to  the  guilty,  and  salvation  to 
the  lost ;  a  name  which  makes  the  dark  gateway  of  the  tomb 
the  portal  to  a  temple  resplendent  with  the  glory  of  celestial 
light,  where  the  music  of  golden  harps  by  angels'  fingers  touched 
is  ineffable  and  eternal.' 

IL 

The  Meaning  op  the  Name. 

1.  It  is  probable  that  the  name  Yahweh  was  not  new  to 
Moses  or  the   Israelites.     An   entirely  new  name  would   have 
meant  to  them  an  entirely  new  God.     It  is  extremely  unlikely 
iR.  V.  Pryce.  » J.  B.  Hawthorne. 


28o  THE  ETERNAL  NAME 

that  the  name  is  of  Babylonian  origin.  If  the  supposed  traces 
of  it  in  Babylonian  literature  are  genuine,  they  only  point  to 
the  introduction  of  foreign  {i.e.  Western  Semitic)  cults.  Some 
maintain  that  the  name  is  found  as  an  element  in  early  North 
Syrian  proper  names.  But,  if  so,  this  only  implies  that  the  name 
became  known  to  Semitic  tribes  other  than  the  Israelites. 

^  The  ultimate  etjmiology  of  the  name  is  quite  uncertain.  The 
primary  meaning  of  hawah  was  perhaps  "  to  fall "  (cf.  Job  xxxvii. 
6,  h'we',  ?  "fall  thou"),  which  is  found  also  in  Arabic.  Hence 
some  explain  "  Yahweh "  as  "  He  who  causes  rain  or  lightning 
to  fall " ;  or  "  He  who  causes  to  fall  (overthrows)  by  lightning ", 
i.e.  the  Destroyer.  In  this  case  Yahweh  in  primitive  Semitic 
times  would  be  somewhat  equivalent  to  the  Assyrian  Adad  or 
Eamman.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  name  Yahweh  may  in 
the  far  past  have  had  a  physical  meaning,  and  have  been  a 
product  of  nature-worship.^ 

2.  Hebrew  writings  tell  us  much  as  to  the  character  and 
attributes  of  the  God  of  the  Old  Testament,  yet  the  exact 
meaning  which  the  writer  of  Ex.  iii.  14  attached  to  the  name 
Yahweh  is  far  from  clear.  Yahweh,  however,  may  be  considered 
as  (1)  causative  imperfect  of  hawah,  "  to  be,"  which  would  express 
"  He  who  causes  to  be  " — either  the  Creator  or  the  Life-giver,  or 
"  He  who  brings  to  pass  " — the  Performer  of  His  promises.  But 
an  objection  to  this  interpretation  is  that  this  tense  of  the  verb 
is  found  only  in  late  Syriac.  (2)  The  ordinary  imperfect  of 
hawah,  "  to  be."  The  Hebrew  imperfect  denotes  either  habitual 
action,  or  future  action,  and  therefore  can  be  translated  either  "  He 
who  is,"  or  "  He  who  will  be."  The  name  "  He  who  is  "  represents 
to  modern  thought  the  conception  of  an  absolute  existence — the 
unchangeable,  self-consistent,  absolutely  existing  One.  And  this 
has  been  adopted  by  many  writers  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
times.  But  the  early  Hebrew  mind  was  essentially  practical,  not 
metaphysical.  Professor  A.  B.  Davidson  (in  Hastings'  Dictionary 
of  the  Bible,  ii.  199'')  says  that  the  verb  "  does  not  mean  'to  be ' 
essentially  or  ontologically,  but  phenomenally."  He  explains  it 
as  follows :  "  It  seems  evident  that  in  the  view  of  the  writer 
'ehyeh  and  yahweh  are  the  same ;  that  God  is  'ehyeh, '  I  will  be,' 
when  speaking  of  Himself,  and  yahweh,  '  He  will  be,*  when  spoken 
of  by  others.     What  He  will  be  is  left  unexpressed — He  will  be 

>  A.  H.  McNeUe. 


EXODUS  III.   13,   14  281 

with  them,  helper,  strengthener,  deliverer  " ;  the  word  is  explained 
by  the  "  I  will  be  with  thee,"  of  verse  12. 

^  Among  other  interpretations  Davidson's  is  the  most  attractive. 
The  passage  receives  a  simple  and  beautiful  explanation  if  the 
expression,  "  I  will  be  what  I  will  be,"  is  taken  as  an  instance  of 
the  idem  per  idem  idiom,  which  a  speaker  employs  when  he  does 
not  wish  to  be  explicit.  Moses  asked  for  God's  name,  i.e.  for  a 
description  of  His  nature  and  character  (cf.  Gen.  xxxii.  29 ;  Judg. 
xiii.  17  f.);  and  he  was  taught  that  it  was  impossible  to  learn  this 
all  at  once.  God  would  be  what  He  would  from  time  to  time 
prove  to  be ;  each  age  would  discover  fresh  attributes  of  His  Being.^ 

3.  The  new  name  of  God  was  no  academic  subtlety,  no 
metaphysical  refinement  of  the  Schools,  unfitly  revealed  to  slaves, 
but  a  most  practical  and  inspiring  truth,  a  conviction  to  warm 
their  blood,  to  rouse  their  courage,  to  convert  their  despair  into 
confidence  and  their  alarms  into  defiance.  They  had  the  support 
of  a  God  worthy  of  trust.  And  thenceforth  every  answer  in 
righteousness,  every  new  disclosure  of  fidelity,  tenderness,  love, 
was  not  an  abnormal  phenomenon,  the  uncertain  grace  of  a 
capricious  despot ;  no,  its  import  was  permanent  as  an  observation 
of  the  stars  by  an  astronomer,  ever  more  to  be  remembered  in 
calculating  the  movements  of  the  universe.  In  future  troubles 
they  could  appeal  to  Him  to  awake  as  in  the  ancient  days,  as 
being  He  who  "  cut  Eahab  and  wounded  the  Dragon."  "  I  am  the 
Lord,  I  change  not,  therefore  ye  sons  of  Jacob  are  not  consumed." 

Therefore  I  trust,  although  to  outward  sense 

Both  true  and  false  seem  shaken;  I  will  hold 

With  newer  light  my  reverence  for  the  old. 
And  calmly  wait  the  births  of  Providence. 
No  gain  is  lost;  the  clear-eyed  saints  look  down 

Untroubled  on  the  wreck  of  schemes  and  creeds ; 

Love  yet  remains,  its  rosary  of  good  deeds 
Counting  in  task-field  and  o'er  peopled  town; 
Truth  has  charmed  life !  the  Inward  Word  survives, 

And,  day  by  day,  its  revelation  brings ; 

Faith,  hope,  and  charity,  whatsoever  things 
Which  cannot  be  shaken,  stand.     Still  holy  lives 

Eeveal  the  Christ  of  whom  the  letter  told, 

And  the  new  gospel  verifies  the  old.^ 

»  A.  H.  McNeile.  «  J.  G.  Whittier, 


282  THE  ETERNAL  NAME 

4  Two  thoughts  are  evidently  contained  in  the  Name. 

(1)  There  is  the  thought,  first,  of  the  permanence  of  God.  We 
have  often  heard  an  expression  concerning  the  "  Great  I  Am,"  as 
if,  in  popular  esteem,  it  involved  only  the  thought  of  self-sufficiency ; 
that  God  is  complete  in  Himself,  having  no  real  need  of  others 
to  augment  His  pleasure  or  to  complete  His  world ;  that  He  rules 
alone,  absolute  Master  and  Dictator  of  everything,  and  in  no  way 
bound  to  listen  to  any  earthly  voice  or  make  change  in  the 
operation  of  ordinary  laws  or  sequences.  But  that  is  not  the 
idea  He  was  giving  to  Moses.  It  is  all  that  some  men  claim  to 
see  in  Him,  and  so  they  ignore  Him  and  live  alone.  God  had 
come  to  each  of  the  old  Hebrew  saints,  being  to  each  of  them 
what  He  was  not  to  the  others,  and  yet  being  the  complete 
answer  to  the  needs  and  aspirations  of  all.  And  it  was  in  just 
this  sense  that  He  wanted  to  come  into  touch  with  the  individual 
lives  of  His  people  through  all  succeeding  time.  Along  with  the 
spirit  of  adaptability  which  would  make  Him  of  value  to  each  life, 
regardless  of  its  eccentricities,  was  to  go  the  thought  of  permanency. 
He  lives  perpetually  in  the  present  tense.  "  I  AM,"  is  His  name. 
We  live,  so  often,  in  other  tenses.  Some  of  us  in  the  past,  perhaps, 
when  life  was  serener  and  we  had  other  difficulties  to  combat ;  a 
past  for  which  we  long,  because  it  was  easier  and  more  trium- 
phant. Or,  perhaps,  we  are  living  in  the  future,  and  feeling  that 
all  the  blessedness  of  God's  presence  will  be  given  to  us  then. 
This  is  the  view  that  so  many  of  us  get,  of  a  God  who  is  to  be 
ours  by  and  by,  when  we  shall  have  struggled  through  the  world 
by  dint  of  hard  endeavour  and  have  saved  our  souls — that  the 
vision  of  God  will  be  ours  when  heaven  begins.  But  the  personal 
presence,  personal  co-operation,  personal  blessing,  is  to  be  ours 
all  through  the  years. 

(2)  But  there  is  a  thought  here,  also,  as  to  the  permanence  of 
life.  Our  Saviour  quoted  this  text  and  gave  such  emphasis  to 
His  interpretation  that  St.  Matthew,  St.  Mark,  and  St.  Luke  have 
noted  it.  St,  Matthew  quotes  Him  as  saying :  "  But  as  touching 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  have  ye  not  read  that  which  was 
spoken  unto  you  by  God,  saying,  I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  and 
the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob  ?  God  is  not  the  God 
of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living."  Christ  emphasizes  the  eternal 
presence,  and  means  us  to  note  the  tense.     There  is  no  statement 


EXODUS  HI.  13,  14  283 

which  suggests  that  the  personal  relation  of  God  to  these  men 
was  merely  a  matter  of  history — that  it  is  entirely  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Every  past  moment  was  once  present,  and  so  the  statement 
of  this  perpetual  presence  reaches  back  into  the  past.  But  every 
future  moment  will  at  some  time  be  present,  and  the  eternal 
presence  reaches  forward  through  all  coming  time. 

^  One  of  the  later  scientific  reinforcements  of  the  philosophic 
argument  for  immortality  has  been  drawn  from  the  principle  of 
continuity.  This  principle  has  been  used  by  the  authors  of  the 
Unseen  Universe  as  the  basis  for  the  construction  of  an  elaborate 
argument  for  the  continuation  of  our  life  after  death ;  and  still 
further,  with  the  help  of  other  admitted  physical  truths,  they 
have  sought  to  render  conceivable  the  possibility  of  another 
sphere  of  existence  connected  with  this,  yet  superior  to  it,  in 
which  we  have  now  our  spiritual  birthright,  and  into  which 
after  death  our  life  shall  without  personal  loss  be  transformed. 
According  to  this  view,  death  would  become  a  transference  of 
individual  existence  from  this  visible  universe  to  some  other 
order  of  things  intimately  connected  with  it.  The  conclusion  of 
their  reasonings  with  regard  to  life  in  its  connection  with  matter, 
they  have  expressed  in  this  sentence :  "  In  fine,  we  maintain  that 
what  we  are  driven  to  is  not  an  under-life  resident  in  the  atom, 
but  rather,  to  adopt  the  words  of  a  recent  writer,  a  Divine  over- 
life  in  which  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being." 

5.  As  the  sublime  and  beautiful  conception  of  a  loving 
spiritual  God  was  built  up  slowly,  age  by  age,  tier  upon  tier,  this 
was  the  foundation  which  ensured  the  stability  of  all,  until  the 
Head  Stone  of  the  Corner  gave  completeness  to  the  vast  design, 
until  men  saw  and  could  believe  in  the  very  Incarnation  of  all 
love,  unshaken  amid  anguish  and  distress  and  seeming  failure, 
immovable,  victorious,  while  they  heard  from  human  lips  the  awful 
words,  "Before  Abraham  was,  I  AM."  Then  they  learned  to 
identify  all  this  ancient  lesson  of  trustworthiness  with  new  and 
more  pathetic  revelations  of  affection :  and  the  martyr  at  the 
stake  grew  strong  as  he  remembered  that  the  Man  of  Sorrows 
was  the  same  yesterday  and  to-day  and  for  ever ;  and  the  great 
apostle,  prostrate  before  the  glory  of  his  Master,  was  restored  by 
the  touch  of  a  human  hand,  and  by  the  voice  of  Him  upon  whose 
bosom  he  had  leaned,  saying.  Fear  not,  I  am  the  First  and  the 
Last  and  the  Living  One. 

T  The  mysterious  "  I  AM  "  who  spake  to  Moses  is  the  same 


284  THE  ETERNAL  NAME 

"  I  am,"  the  ever-existent  Christ,  who  speaks  to  us.  He  whom  we 
adore  as  submitting  to  death  was  the  Lord  of  Life.  He  whom 
men  treated  with  such  indignity  was  the  Lord,  the  Creator  of 
angels.  He  whom  men  falsely  and  unjustly  judged  was  the  Judge 
of  quick  and  dead,  the  sole  executor  of  judgment,  for  it  is  said 
by  Him,  that  the  Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed 
all  judgment  unto  the  Son.  He,  the  "  I  AM "  who  thus,  as 
recorded  in  Exodus,  at  the  bush,  spake  to  Moses,  and  declared 
His  intention  of  redeeming  His  people  from  Egyptian  bondage, 
now  redeemed  them  from  another  and  far  worse  bondage,  not 
by  plaguing  their  oppressors,  and  physically  destroying  them,  but 
by  submitting  Himself  on  their  behalf,  first  to  ignominy  and 
tortures,  and  then  to  death.  Not  by  power,  not  by  might,  but 
by  My  Spirit — the  Spirit  of  love,  meekness,  gentleness,  goodness 
— not  by  superhuman  power,  but  by  superhuman  humility. 
"  Thou  art  the  king  of  glory,  0  Christ :  thou  art  the  Everlasting 
Son  of  the  Father :  when  thou  tookest  upon  thee  to  deliver  man 
thou  didst  not  abhor  the  virgin's  womb ;  when  thou  hadst  over- 
come the  sharpness  of  death  thou  didst  open  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  to  all  believers." 


m. 

The  Kevelation  in  the  Name. 

1.  When  God  wants  a  man  to  do  some  good  and  useful  work, 
He  gives  him  a  fresh  thought  about  Himself,  His  character,  and 
His  purposes,  a  thought  which  tells  him  what  He  is,  what  He  has 
done,  what  He  is  now  doing,  and  what  He  wills  to  be  done ;  and 
by  that  thought  He  not  only  illumines  his  mind,  but  also  feeds 
his  faith,  sustains  his  patience,  and  fires  his  zeal,  so  that  though 
he  may  never  set  foot  in  the  land  of  promise,  yets  he  keeps  on, 
steadfastly  climbing  the  slopes  of  Pisgah,  and  from  its  heights 
catches  cheering  glimpses  of  the  lengthening  issues  of  his  toil. 

1[  Somehow  the  revelation  comes !  You  see  it  written  on  the 
sheet  let  down  from  heaven  to  the  startled  gaze  of  the  sleeper  on 
the  house-top  at  Joppa,  assuring  him  that  the  creative  energy  of 
God  cleanses  all  His  work  of  commonness  and  makes  it  full  of 
meaning  and  beauty ;  that  He  condemns  the  narrowness  that 
would  shut  out  from  His  infinite  love  any  Cornelius  who  fears 
God  and  works  righteousness,  and  that  therefore  prejudiced  and 
reluctant  Peter  must  initiate  a  new  era  in  the  religious  thought 
and  life  of  the  world. 


EXODUS  III.  13,  14  285 

It  comos  to  the  perplexed  Augustine,  as,  with  wearied  brain 
and  agitated  soul,  eager  to  find  pardon  for  his  sin  and  freedom 
from  the  tyranny  of  his  youthful  lusts,  he  wanders  in  the  gardens 
of  his  friend  Alypius,  at  Tagaste,  and  says  to  him,  "  Tolle  lege ; 
toUe  lege ! "  "  Take  and  read ;  take  and  read  ! "  And  forthwith 
he  opens  the  New  Testament  and  reads  the  closing  verses  of 
Romans  xiiL  and  at  once  dedicates  himself  to  the  life  of  purity 
revealed  in  Jesus  Christ. 

Somehow  it  comes.  See  how  it  haunts  the  soul  of  Martin 
Luther,  filling  his  youth  with  awe  and  firing  it  with  the  passion 
for  holiness.  Constraining  him  to  listen  to  the  spiritual  counsels 
of  Stanfutz,  then  goading  him  to  undertake  the  pilgrimage  to 
Rome,  where,  as  he  climbs  "  the  holy  staircase,"  he  swiftly  learns 
that  God  does  not  require  men  to  crawl  up  the  "  Scala  Santa  " 
repeating  hollow  phrases,  but  to  accept  His  free  forgiveness,  and 
from  the  impulse  it  gives  follow  after  that  holiness  without 
which  no  man  can  see  the  Lord.  It  comes  to  John  Wesley  from 
the  Moravians,  and  makes  him  glad  with  a  new  joy  and  strong 
with  a  new  power.  It  comes  to  Dr.  Clarke  as  he  meditates  on 
the  needs  of  the  churches,  and  guides  him  in  creating  that  latest 
and  most  effective  instrument,  the  Christian  Endeavour  movement, 
for  the  training  and  culture  of  the  young  in  robust  godliness, 
fervent  piety,  and  fruitful  service  to  mankind. 

2.  Wherein  lay  the  strength  of  this  revelation  of  God  to  Moses  ? 

(1)  First,  it  identified  God  with  the  work  he  was  given  to  do. 
It  asserted,  in  effect,  that  it  was  a  part  of  His  work,  belonged  to 
God,  and  partook  of  His  eternity ;  did  not  depend  primarily  upon 
the  worker,  but  upon  God  Himself.  The  man  was  but  as  a  cog 
in  the  mighty  wheel  of  the  progress  of  the  world ;  a  tool  in  the 
hands  of  the  infinite.  In  that  is  security.  Moses  had  lived  in 
the  midst  of  whirling  change,  and  inherited  a  past  crowded  with 
trouble  and  sorrow.  His  own  fortunes  had  passed  through  the 
splendours  of  a  court,  the  privations  of  the  desert  and  the 
anxieties  of  the  criminal ;  but  now,  as  he  faced  the  responsibilities 
of  leadership,  it  was  with  the  assurance  that  God,  the  God  of 
Abraham,  his  father's  God,  endured,  that  He  was  the  Eternal,  the 
one  fixed  centre  in  a  wide  circle  of  ceaseless  vicissitude,  the  "  I 
am  that  I  am  " ;  and  as  He  was,  so  was  His  work.  Therefore  the 
heart  of  Moses  was  fixed,  trusting  in  the  Lord,  and  he  went 
to  his  task,  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  with  faith  and  insight,  hope 
and  endurance.     He  saw  not  the  fleeting  forms  of  service,  but 


286  THE  ETERNAL  NAME 

God's  iu visible  Israel,  the  regenerate  future  of  humanity,  the  gold 
separated  from  the  dross  in  the  fires  of  trial,  and  man  redeemed, 
ending  triumphant  over  every  obstacle,  and  feasting  on  the 
bounty  of  God. 

1  Where  ordinary  men  see  a  stone  and  nothing  more,  the 
genius  of  Michael  Angelo  beholds  an  angel  before  hammer  or 
chisel  has  touched  it.  To  the  eye  of  his  companions  John  Newton 
is  a  drunken,  swearing  sailor  ;  but  God  sees  in  him  the  redeemed, 
re-made,  messenger  of  love  and  mercy.  The  people  of  Elstree 
see  no  more  than  a  tinker,  living  a  loose,  irregular  life,  in  John 
Bunyan ;  God  sees  the  dreamer  of  the  pilgrim  journey  from  the 
City  of  Destruction  to  the  land  of  Beulah.  The  call  of  God  is  so 
fraught  with  revelations  of  the  possibilities  of  men  and  of  man 
in  God,  that  those  who  hear  it  go  forth  to  their  work  with  an 
unquenchable  hopefulness  and  an  all-subduing  zeal. 

Blind  souls,  who  say  that  Love  is  blind; 

He  only  sees  aright; 
His  only  are  the  eyes  that  find 

The  spirit's  central  light. 

He  lifts — while  others  grope  and  pry — 

His  gaze  serene  and  far; 
And  they  but  see  a  waste  of  sky 

Where  Love  can  see  the  Star. 

(2)  When  a  man  feels  that  his  work  is  God's  rather  than  his 
own,  he  is  raised  at  once  to  the  loftiest  ranges  of  power  by  the 
development  of  his  humility.  The  maximum  of  human  force  for 
any  work  is  never  reached  till  we  are  self-obKvious,  absorbed  in 
our  task,  heedless  of  ourselves  and  all  besides,  except  the  mission 
we  have  to  carry  out.  At  this  height  men  are  simply  irresistible, 
for  they  are  one  with  God's  eternal  purpose  and  almighty  power. 

^  Ruskin  says :  "  I  believe  that  the  first  test  of  a  truly  great 
man  is  his  humility.  I  do  not  mean  by  humility  doubt  of  his 
own  power,  hesitation  of  speaking  his  opinions,  but  a  right  under- 
standing of  the  relation  of  what  he  can  do  and  say  to  the  rest  of 
the  world's  doings  and  sayings.  All  great  men  not  only  know 
their  business,  but  usually  know  that  they  know  it ;  they  are  not 
only  right  in  their  main  opinions,  but  they  usually  know  that 
they  are  right  in  them ;  only  they  do  not  think  much  of  themselves 
on  that  account.  .  .  .  They  have  a  curious  sense  of  powerlessness, 
feeling  that  the  greatness  is  not  in  them,  but  through  them — that 


EXODUS  III.   13,   14  287 

they  could  not  do  or  be  anything  else  than  God  made  them ;  and 
they  see  something  Divine  and  God-made  in  every  man  they 
meet,  and  are  endlessly,  foolishly,  incredibly  merciful."  Kipling 
pictures  the  artist  at  the  supreme  moment  of  his  success  as 
realizing  that  his  work  is  due,  not  to  his  own  genius,  but  to  a 
power  that  is  working  in  him  and  through  him.  This  is  our 
strength.  God  works  in  us,  to  work  not  only  our  own,  but  also 
the  world's  salvation. 

Whither  away,  O  brawling  Stream, 

Whither  away  so  fast? 
Fleeing  for  life  and  death  you  seem. 

Speak,  as  you  hasten  past. 

Answered  the  Brook,  with  a  pompous  roar, 

Tossing  its  creamy  foam, 
"I  go,  my  flood  in  the  Main  to  pour — 

Listen,  0  Sea,  I  come ! " 

Whither  away,  0  Eiver  deep, 

Gliding  so  slow  and  calm? 
Your  gentle  current  seems  half  asleep. 

And  chanting  a  drowsy  psalm. 

Answered  the  River,  with  whisper  low, 

Swaying  her  lilies  fair; 
"Down  to  the  measureless  Sea  I  go — 

The  Sea  will  not  know  I  am  there."* 

(3)  But  the  tenderest  and  strongest  element  in  the  new  thought 
of  God  given  to  Moses  is  that  God  is  the  Redeemer,  and  is  coming 
down  to  the  lowest  levels  of  the  suffering  life  of  Israel  to  save  the 
people  from  all  their  troubles  and  raise  them  up  to  share  His  own 
life  in  its  peace  and  joy  for  evermore.  That  is  the  sum  of  all 
God's  speech  to  us.  Out  of  the  burning  bush  comes  the  revelation 
of  the  Cross.  God  is  Himself  at  the  centre  of  the  fires  that  burn 
humanity ;  He  is  afiOicted  in  all  our  afflictions ;  He  shares  our  lot 
so  that  He  may  redeem  us  from  all  our  iniquities.* 

^  A  living  God  means  an  active  Bedeemer.  This  is  the  inter- 
pretation of  God  which  Moses  is  to  set  before  the  people.  God 
chooses  Moses  to  go  and  speak  to  Pharaoh  on  Israel's  behalf.  He 
will  be  a  Pillar  of  Fire,  giving  light  by  which  an  untrained,  un- 

^  Augasto  Mo«re,  in  Scribner's  Monthly,  xiii.  30.  '  John  Clifford. 


288  THE  ETERNAL  NAME 

armed  nation  of  hereditary  bondsmen  will  see  the  way  out  of 
Egypt.  He  will,  in  the  meek  and  slow-tongued  Moses,  confound 
the  arrogance  and  assumption  of  the  magicians  of  a  mighty 
Empire.  "Tell  them  that  'I  AM'  hath  sent  thee.  Let  them 
know  that  I  have  heard  their  cry.  Say  to  the  elders  that  '  I 
have  visited  you.'  Tell  them  that  certainly  I  will  be  with  thee, 
and  ye  shall  serve  God  in  this  mountain."  ^ 

3.  The  credentials  which  God  gave  to  Moses  are  the  same  as 
Christ  gave  to  His  Church.  But  how  often  we  are  loth  to  go 
without  better  credentials  than  these !  And  yet  what  better  cotUd 
we  have  ?  "  As  my  Father  sent  Me  into  the  world,  even  so  have 
I  also  sent  t?iem  into  the  world."  As  we  look  upon  the  seething 
chaos  of  social  hopelessness,  we  feel  it  to  be  well-nigh  impossible 
to  do  anything  gi-eat — we  are  so  feeble,  and  in  nature  so  in- 
sufficient. We  feel  much  as  Elijah  did  when  he  bent  in  abject 
despair  at  the  brook :  "  I,  even  I  only,  am  left,  and  they  seek  my 
life  to  take  it  away."  Considered  numerically,  what  prospect  is 
there  that  the  few  millions  of  aggressive  Christians  will  ever  win 
over  the  hundreds  of  millions  who  are  at  present  almost  altogether 
out  of  sympathy  with  the  objects  of  the  Christian  religion  ?  Surely 
all  our  ferment  and  prayer  and  testimony,  our  martyrdom  and 
love  and  self-sacrificing  thought  are  thrown  away !  We  are  only 
men  as  they  are,  and  must  be  borne  down  at  last  by  numbers ! 

^  A  tiny  volume  of  gas  is  not  distinguishable  from  the  gases 
we  call  air  about  it.  But  give  to  that  gas  in  its  tiny  volume  heat, 
and  it  becomes  incandescent ;  and  so  long  as  gas  remains  with  air 
about  it,  that  flame  gives  light,  in  darkness  ever  so  dense.  One 
tiny  volume  enlightens  many  thousands  of  times  its  own  space  of 
air,  because  that  very  burning  has  taken  place  in  connexion  with 
it.  So,  though  dark  the  social  night  in  which  we  shine,  our 
Gospel  will  be  approved.  We  are  Messengers  of  the  King  of 
Light,  in  whom  is  no  darkness  at  all,  and  our  presence  is  omni- 
potent for  good,  80  long  as  He  goes  with  ua.^ 

*  J.  G.  Gibson. 


Forward  ! 


GEN.-NUM. — 19 


Literature. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  Sermons  which  have  won  Souls,  175. 
Brown  (J.  B.),  The  Sunday  Afternoon,  428,  436. 
Campbell  (Mrs.),  Music  from  the  Harps  of  God,  61. 
Creighton  (M.),  University  and  other  Sermons,  160. 
Gray  (W.  H.),  The  Children's  Friend,  330. 

Huntington  (F.  D.),  Christ  in  the  Christian  Year  (Trinity  to  Advent),  98. 
Lamb  (R.),  School  Sermons,  ii.  138. 
Mackray  (A.  N.),  Edges  and  Wedges,  49. 
ilatheson  (G.),  Times  of  Retirement,  119. 
Singer  (S.),  Sermons  to  Children,  132. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  An  All-Round  Ministry,  40. 
•\Vauglian  (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton  Pulpit),  x.  No.  821. 

Cliristian  World  Pulpit,  vi.  72  (Ann) ;  xxiv.  204  (Legge) ;  xxxviii.  138 
(NichoUs) ;    lix.    1    (Farrar) ;    Ixi.    253    (Davenport) ;    Ixvi.    168 
(Taylor) ;  Ixviii.  395  (Snell). 
Churchman's  Pulpit  (Easter  Day  and  Season),  vii.  246  (Frothingham). 
Preacher's  Magazine,  xi.  (1900)  54,  112  (Pearse). 
Sermons  to  Brito-ns  Abroad,  274. 


Forward  I 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Wherefore  criest  thou  unto  me?  speak 
unto  the  children  of  Israel,  that  they  go  forward. — Exod.  xiv.  15. 

These  words,  which  were  spoken  at  the  crisis  of  Israel's  history 
— at  the  very  moment  when,  so  to  speak,  Israel  came  into 
existence  as  a  nation — were  the  motto  stamped  upon  the  whole 
subsequent  history  of  the  race. 

Think  when  they  were  spoken.  The  children  of  Israel — a 
race  of  slaves  who  had  lost  all  the  manliness  that  ever  they 
possessed,  in  the  long  period  of  servitude  they  had  spent  in  Egypt 
— were  called  by  God  to  go  forth  and  realize  His  plans ;  and  as 
this  cowering  band  stood  hearing  the  chariot  wheels  of  the 
Egyptians  behind  them — at  that  time  it  was,  when  their  hearts 
were  sunk  within  them,  that  they  turned  to  their  leaders  for 
guidance.  Then  the  message  came  clearly  forth,  "  Speak  unto 
the  children  of  Israel,  that  they  go  forward." 

It  was  a  terrible  moment.  The  Egyptian  army  was  pressing 
on  behind  them  with  chariots  and  horsemen,  and  they  had  no 
means  of  defence.  The  sea  lay  before  them,  and  they  had  no 
ability  to  cross  it.  They  already  talked  of  their  graves,  wishing 
that  they  had  been  prepared  somewhere  else  than  in  the 
wilderness.  The  very  prophet  paused  and  was  at  a  loss.  While 
he  rebuked  his  refractory  people,  he  knew  no  longer  how  to  guide 
them.  He  assured  them  that  they  should  be  delivered,  but  he 
could  not  see  how  that  deliverance  should  be  brought  to  pass. 
Towards  them  he  kept  a  bold  front,  and  told  them  that  if  they 
would  "  stand  still,  the  Lord  would  fight  for  them."  But  his  own 
heart  was  at  a  stand.  He  did  not  murmur  like  the  tribes  whom 
he  led.  He  did  not  despair  like  them.  But  he  remained  motion- 
less, and  gave  himself  to  supplication.     Then  came  the  Divine 

word  to  him :  "  Wherefore  criest  thou  unto  me  ?  speak  unto  the 

391 


292  FORWARD ! 

children  of  Israel,  that  they  go  forward."    It  was  an  inspiriting 
word.     It  was  so  to  him,  and  it  may  be  made  so  to  us. 

^  There  is  a  story  in  the  books  of  the  old  Jewish  Kabbis,  which 
tells  us  that  the  Israelites  when  they  reached  the  Eed  Sea  after 
their  escape  from  Egypt  were  very  excited.  Now  Israelites  always 
were  and  always  are  rather  excitable.  But  they  were  especi- 
ally excitable  on  that  occasion.  They  were  all  right  when  every- 
thing went  well  and  smoothly ;  but  when  things  were  not  going 
well  and  smoothly,  and  the  Egyptians  were  hurrying  up  behind 
them  and  the  sea  was  in  front  of  them,  they  grew  so  excited  that 
Moses  had  his  hands  full.  And  they  all  wanted  to  do  different 
things ;  they  had  not  yet  learned  to  trust  God  and  Moses  in  time 
of  danger ;  and  so  they  cried  out  all  at  once,  giving  one  another 
different  advice  and  wanting  to  do  different  things.  Four  classes 
especially  were  among  them.  Some  said,  Let  us  throw  ourselves 
into  the  sea ;  others  said,  The  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  go  back 
to  Egypt ;  others  said,  Let  us  go  to  meet  the  Egyptians  and  fight 
them ;  and  others,  Let  us  shout  against  them  and  see  what  will 
happen.  To  those  who  said,  Let  us  drown  ourselves  in  the  sea, 
i  Moses  said,  "  Fear  not,  but  stand  firm  and  see  the  salvation  of  the 
?  Lord."  To  those  who  wanted  to  get  out  of  their  trouble  by  going 
back  to  live  in  Egypt  once  more  as  slaves,  Moses  said,  No,  no,  as 
you  have  seen  the  Egyptians  to-day  you  shall  never  see  them 
again.  To  those  who  wanted  to  give  battle  to  the  Egyptians  he 
said,  Kestrain  yourselves,  "the  Lord  will  fight  for  you."  And 
those  who  thought  that  shouting  would  be  useful  were  told — 
You  be  quiet.  Then  when  he  had  got  them  all  in  order,  Moses 
did  what  they  had  not  thought  of.  He  appealed  to  God  Himself, 
and  from  Him  came  the  command.  Speak  to  the  children  of  Israel, 
that  they  journey  forward.^ 

^  In  a  great  thaw  on  one  of  the  American  rivers  there  was  a 
man  on  one  of  the  cakes  of  ice  which  was  not  actually  separated 
from  the  unbroken  ice.  In  his  terror  he  did  not  see  this,  but  knelt 
down  and  began  to  pray  aloud  for  God  to  deliver  him.  The 
spectators  on  the  shore  cried,  "Stop  praying,  and  run  for  the 
shore."  * 

L 

Progress. 

"Go  forward."  These  words  contain  within  themselves  all 
that  is  to  be  said  about  human  progress.     They  express  the  fact 

1  S.  Singer.  '  0.  H.  Spurgeon. 


EXODUS  XIV.   15  293 

that  progress  is  to  be  the  law  of  men's  affairs,  that  God  has  im- 
pressed it  upon  them.  They  explain  the  Divine  purpose  which 
marks  itself  in  the  story  of  men's  affairs.  We  can  profitably  look 
back  upon  the  past  only  if  we  go  there  to  seek  lessons  for  the 
future.  We  can  profitably  seek  lessons  for  the  future  only  if 
they  are  to  bring  to  our  hearts  hope,  eternal  hope,  greater  power 
in  the  future  than  there  has  been  in  the  past,  greater  zeal,  greater 
devotion  to  God's  service,  loftier  aspirations,  higher  aims,  and  the 
constant  increase  of  the  standard  of  man's  endeavour. 

^  Into  whatever  province  of  Divine  government  we  look  we 
find  that  "  Forward  "  is  one  of  God's  great  watchwords — onward 
to  that  state  which  is  higher,  more  perfect.  "  Forward  "  was  the 
watchword  of  creation  when  God  looked  upon  this  earth,  formless 
and  void,  and  when  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  its  deep — 
"  Forward  "  until  "  thy  face  shall  be  covered  with  light  and  beauty, 
and  thou  shalt  be  the  happy  dwelling-place  of  intelligent  and 
happy  beings."  "Forward"  is  the  watchword  of  redemption. 
The  stone  cut  out  without  hands  should  become  a  great  mountain, 
and  fill  the  whole  earth.  The  grain  of  mustard  seed  should  be- 
come a  great  tree,  amid  the  branches  of  which  the  fowls  of  the 
air  should  find  shelter.  The  day  of  small  things  should  be 
followed  by  a  millennium  of  peace  and  triumph,  and  an  eternity 
of  glory. 

^  "  That  they  go  forward."  This  little  word  "  go  "  is  a  familiar 
word  to  every  follower  of  Christ.  A  true  follower  of  His  always 
is  stirred  by  a  spirit  of  "  go,"  A  going  Christian  is  a  growing 
Christian.  A  going  Church  has  always  been  a  growing  Church. 
Those  ages  when  the  Church  lost  the  vision  of  her  Master's  face 
on  Olivet,  and  let  other  sounds  crowd  out  of  her  ears  the  sound  of 
His  voice,  were  stagnant  ages.  They  are  commonly  spoken  of  in 
history  as  the  dark  ages.  "  Go  "  is  the  ringing  keynote  of  the 
Christian  life,  whether  in  man  or  in  the  Church.* 

IL 

The  Direction. 

In  what  directions  should  progress  be  made  ?  To  what  are  we 
to  go  forward  ? 

1.  To  more  knowledge.  The  first  essential,  in  order  to  all 
other  progress,  is  progress  in  knowledge,  a  continual  pressing  into 

'  S.  D.  Gordon,  Quiet  Talks  on  Service,  36. 


294  FORWARD ! 

clearer  and  fuller  knowledge  of  God  and  of  His  manifold  revela- 
tions of  Himself.  When  St.  Paul  breathed  forth  his  fervent  wishes 
for  the  Colossian  converts,  his  first  petition  was  in  these  words : 
"  That  ye  might  be  filled  with  the  knowledge  of  His  will  in  all 
wisdom  and  spiritual  understanding."  Similarly,  when  he  opens 
his  own  heart  to  the  Philippians,  he  speaks  of  counting  all  things 
but  loss  "  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord,"  and  among  the  main  objects  of  his  desire  specifies  "  that  I 
may  know  Him."  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  towards  the  close  of  his 
illustrious  life,  spoke  of  himself  as  a  child  who  had  gathered  a  few 
shells  on  the  shores  of  a  boundless  sea.  "What  he  felt  in  regard 
to  nature,  St.  Paul  felt  in  things  spiritual — that  there  were  heights 
above  him  he  had  not  scaled,  depths  beneath  him  he  had  not 
fathomed ;  that  rich  as  he  was  in  grace,  there  were  yet  hidden  in 
God  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  which  would  make  him 
richer  still.  Secrets  of  Christ's  love  and  power  he  had  guessed  at, 
but  felt  that  that  love  and  power  utterly  transcended  his  highest 
experience.  For  himself,  therefore,  and  for  those  for  whom  he 
yearned,  he  was  still  covetous  of  more,  to  know  more  of  that 
which  passeth  knowledge.  And  such,  down  through  all  the 
centuries,  has  been  the  aim  and  effort  of  the  Christian  life.  Each 
generation  received  the  measure  of  knowledge  its  predecessor  had 
gained ;  but  along  with  the  old,  new  aspects  presented  themselves, 
not  contradicting  but  broadening  out  the  old,  and  thereupon  the 
enlarged  but  unfinished  structure  passed  on  to  other  hands. 

Spurgeon  has  three  recommendations  to  give. 

(1)  Make  great  efforts  to  acquire  information,  especially  of  a 
Biblical  kind.  Be  masters  of  your  Bibles  whatever  other  works  you 
have  not  searched,  be  at  home  with  the  writings  of  the  prophets 
and  apostles.  "  Let  the  word  of  God  dwell  in  you  richly."  Having 
given  that  the  precedence,  neglect  no  field  of  knowledge.  The 
presence  of  Jesus  on  the  earth  has  sanctified  the  whole  realm 
of  nature;  and  what  He  has  cleansed,  call  not  you  common. 
All  that  your  Father  has  made  is  yours,  and  you  should  learn 
from  it. 

^  I  begin  to  perceive  that  it  is  necessary  to  know  some  one 
thing  to  the  bottom — were  it  only  literature.  And  yet,  sir,  the 
man  of  the  world  is  a  great  feature  of  this  age ;  he  is  possessed  of 
an  extraordinary  mass  and  variety  of  knowledge ;  he  is  every- 


EXODUS  XIV.   15  295 

where  at  home ;  he  has  seen  life  in  all  its  phases ;  and  it  is  im- 
possible but  that  this  great  habit  of  existence  should  bear  fruit.^ 

(2)  Learn  always  to  discriminate  between  things  that  differ ; 
and  at  this  particular  time  this  point  needs  insisting  on  very 
emphatically.  Many  run  after  novelties,  charmed  with  every  new 
thing ;  learn  to  judge  between  truth  and  its  counterfeits.  Others 
adhere  to  old  teachings ;  like  limpets  they  stick  to  the  rock ;  and 
yet  these  may  only  be  ancient  errors;  wherefore  "prove  all 
things,"  and  "  hold  fast  that  which  is  good."  The  use  of  the  sieve 
and  the  winnowing  fan  is  much  to  be  commended.  A  man  who 
has  asked  the  Lord  to  give  him  clear  eyes,  by  which  he  shall  see 
the  truth,  and  discern  its  bearings,  and  who,  by  reason  of  the 
constant  exercise  of  his  faculties,  has  obtained  an  accurate  judg- 
ment, is  one  fit  to  be  a  leader  of  the  Lord's  host. 

(3)  Hold  firmly  what  you  have  learned.  Alas  !  in  these  times, 
certain  men  glory  in  being  weathercocks ;  they  hold  fast  nothing ; 
they  have,  in  fact,  nothing  worth  the  holding.  "  Ever  learning, 
and  never  able  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,"  is  the  motto 
of  the  worst  rather  than  of  the  best  of  men.  Are  they  to  be  our 
model ?  "I  shape  my  creed  every  week "  was  the  confession  of 
one  of  these  divines  to  me.  Whereunto  shall  I  liken  such  un- 
settled ones  ?  Are  they  not  like  those  birds  which  frequent  the 
Golden  Horn,  and  are  to  be  seen  from  Constantinople,  of  which 
it  is  said  that  they  are  always  on  the  wing,  and  never  rest  ?  No 
one  ever  saw  them  alight  on  the  water  or  on  the  land,  they  are 
for  ever  poised  in  mid-air.  The  natives  call  them  "  lost  souls  " — 
seeking  rest  and  finding  none ;  and,  methinks,  men  who  have  no 
personal  rest  in  the  truth,  if  they  are  not  themselves  unsaved,  are, 
at  least,  very  unlikely  to  be  the  means  of  saving  others. 

Knowledge  hath  two  wings,  Opinion  hath  but  one, 
And  Opinion  soon  fails  in  its  orphan  flight; 
The  bird  with  one  wing  soon  droops  its  head  and  falls. 
But  give  it  two  wings,  and  it  gains  its  desire.^ 

2.  To  higher  life.  "Go  forward"  is  a  summons  to  in- 
dividuals and  to  the  Church  to  advance  in  Christian  character. 
No  worthy,  no  abidirg  character  can  be  formed  without  a  basis  of 
belief.     But  on  the  other  hand,  what  avails  a  foundation  if  it  is 

*  B.  L.  Stevenson,  TU  Dynamiter.  •  Jalaluddin  Eumi. 


296  FORWARD ! 

not  built  upon  ?  What  will  it  avail  to  eay  or  think  that  we  are 
of  the  root  if  we  show  none  of  the  fruit  ?  So  the  command  runs : 
Go  forward,  build  up  yourselves  on  your  most  holy  faith.  Stone 
after  stone,  row  after  row,  of  gracious  character  has  to  be  built  up 
with  care  and  diligence.  Add  to  your  faith  courage,  and  to 
courage  knowledge,  and  to  knowledge  temperance,  and  to  temper- 
ance patience,  and  to  patience  godliness,  and  to  godliness  brotherly 
kindness,  and  to  brotherly  kindness  love. 

IF  No  one  reaches  at  once  the  full  measure  of  the  stature  of 
manhood  in  Jesus  Christ.  In  Him  there  is  placed  before  us  an 
ideal,  infinitely  perfect  and  beautiful,  to  which  we  may  be  ever 
drawing  nearer,  and  still  find  it  shining  above  us,  like  a  star  that 
dwells  apart.  His  riches  we  shall  never  exhaust,  freely  as  we 
may  draw  upon  Him.  As  God  has  made  the  soul  of  man  capable 
of  indefinite  expansion,  so  He  has  set  before  it  in  Christ  a  career 
of  infinite  growth  and  progress.^ 

^  Schiller  says  it  is  a  scientific  fact  that  the  animal  nature  of 
man,  if  let  have  its  way,  becomes  dominant  over  the  spiritual 
toward  middle  life ;  and  John  Henry  Newman  says  that  unless 
they  are  subdued  by  high  religious  and  moral  principle,  material 
interests  inevitably  submerge  man's  whole  nature  into  selfish 
indifference  towards  all  with  which  self  is  not  concerned.  And 
Dante  places  man's  encounter  with  the  three  animals — the  fierce 
lion  of  wrath  and  pride;  luxury,  the  spotted  panther;  and  the 
gaunt,  hungry  wolf  of  avarice — in  the  middle  period  of  man's 
life.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  men  and  women  nearing  middle 
age  need  to  be  roused  to  the  necessity  of  keeping  close  to  God  as 
the  only  source  of  fresh  impulse  to  righteousness.^ 

3.  To  fuller  service.  There  is  among  us  sometimes  a  notion 
that  religion  consists  rather  in  passive  emotions  than  in  active 
deeds.  As  if  in  religion  man  had  simply  to  bare  his  heart  that 
it  might  be  played  on  as  a  stringed  instrument  by  the  hand 
of  God.  As  if  spiritual  thought  and  emotion  were  the  whole  of 
religion.  That  is  but  half  the  truth.  Out  of  this  inward 
experience  must  grow  a  life  devoted  to  good  works.  "Pure 
religion  and  undefiled  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this,  to  visit 
the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  himself 
unspotted  from  the  world."  "  Not  every  one  that  saith  to  me  Lord, 
Lord,  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my  Father,  shall  enter  the 
kingdom." 

*  J.  Legge.  '  L.  A.  Bank*. 


EXODUS  XIV.  15  297 

IF  After  all,  we  shall  be  known  by  what  we  have  done,  more 
than  by  what  we  have  said.  I  hope  that,  like  the  Apostles,  our 
memorial  will  be  our  acts.  There  are  good  brethren  in  the  world 
who  are  unpractical.  The  grand  doctrine  of  the  Second  Advent 
makes  them  stand  with  open  mouths,  peering  into  the  -skies,  so 
that  I  am  ready  to  say,  "  Ye  men  of  Plymouth,  why  stand  ye  here 
gazing  up  into  Heaven  ?  "  The  fact  that  Jesus  Christ  is  to  come 
again  is  not  a  reason  for  star-gazing,  but  for  working  in  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Be  not  so  taken  up  with  speculations  as  to 
prefer  a  Bible-reading  over  an  obscure  passage  in  Kevelation  to 
teaching  in  a  ragged-school  or  discoursing  to  the  poor  concern- 
ing Jesus.  We  must  have  done  with  day-dreams,  and  get  to 
work.  I  believe  in  eggs,  but  we  must  get  chickens  out  of  them. 
I  do  not  mind  how  big  your  egg  is,  it  may  be  an  ostrich's  egg  if 
you  like ;  but  if  there  is  nothing  in  it,  pray  clear  away  the  shell. 
If  something  comes  of  your  speculations,  God  bless  them ;  and 
even  if  you  should  go  a  little  further  than  I  think  it  wise  to 
venture  in  that  direction,  still,  if  you  are  thereby  made  more 
useful,  God  be  praised  for  it !  ^ 

II  Some  seven  centuries  ago  there  was  a  young  Italian  keeping 
a  feast  with  his  friends  one  night ;  and  he  wearied  of  the  feast 
and  of  the  jests.  There  was  nothing  wrong,  only  a  friendly  feast. 
He  quietly  withdrew  and  went  out  and  stood  thoughtfully  beneath 
the  blue  Italian  sky.  By  and  by  his  friends  came  out,  and  they 
walked  home  together,  and  they  said  to  him,  "  You  are  in  love." 
He  said  nothing,  but  he  had  a  far-away  look  upon  his  face,  like  a 
man  who  is  looking  into  another  world.  "  You  are  in  love.  Who 
is  it  ?  "  the  friends  said.  "  I  am,"  he  replied,  "  and  my  bride  is 
called  Poverty.  No  one  has  been  anxious  to  woo  her  since  Jesus 
lived,  and  I  am  going  to  serve  her  all  my  days."  That  young 
Italian  became  immortal  as  one  of  the  greatest  Christians  who 
ever  lived,  under  the  name  of  St.  Francis.  He  felt  the  burden  of 
responsibility  to  serve  the  world.  He  lifted  up  his  rod  in  God's 
strength  and  went  forward.* 

III. 

The  Hindrances. 

What  are  the  hindrances  to  progress?  The  history  of  the 
children  of  Israel  suggests  these  three — 

1.  We  shall  not  go  forward  if  we  look  hack.  Jeremiah  describes 
the  people  asking  the  way  to  Zion  with  their  faces  thitherward. 
'  C.  H.  Spurgeon.  '  L.  A.  Banks. 


298  FORWARD! 

After  the  roll-call  of  God's  heroes  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
there  is  the  application,  "  Let  us  run  the  race  that  is  set  before  us, 
looking  unto  Jesus."  With  very  many  the  reason  they  never  go 
forward  is  that  they  live  looking  backward.  The  story  of  Lot's 
wife  has  a  lesson  for  all  time — turned  not  into  salt,  but  into  stone. 
Nothing  is  more  sure  to  turn  one  to  stone  than  to  live  looking 
back.  It  is  to  lose  all  sympathy  with  the  present  and  all  hope 
for  the  future ;  and  that  past  is  always  distorted  and  deceptive. 
Israel  was  kept  from  going  forward  because  they  dreamed  of  the 
leeks,  and  garlic,  and  cucumber,  and  the  sweet  waters  of  the 
Nile.  How  conveniently  they  forgot  the  crack  of  the  taskmaster's 
whip  and  the  cruel  decree  that  doomed  their  sons  to  death ! 

IF  I  was  on  Dartmoor  some  years  ago,  when  we  were  overtaken 
by  a  dense  mist.  My  friend,  who  knew  the  moor  well,  said  he 
would  bring  us  straight  to  the  point  we  wanted,  knowing  the 
part  of  the  stream  at  which  we  stood  and  the  direction  in  which 
we  wanted  to  go.  For  a  while  we  went  on  safely  enough ;  then  I 
stopped  and  turned  to  button  my  waterproof.  He  too  turned  for 
a  moment  to  speak  to  me.  Then  instantly  he  cried,  "  I  have  lost 
my  bearings.  That  turn  did  it.  I  don't  know  the  way  any 
longer."  We  went  on,  thinking  we  were  right,  but  an  hour  later 
found  ourselves  back  by  the  bank  of  the  river  we  had  left.  We 
had  gone  in  a  complete  circle.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  we  can  start 
again ;  but  we  must  not  stop  for  anything."  Away  we  went,  and 
he  led  us  right  across  to  the  point  we  wanted.  Later  he 
explained  to  me  that  knowing  the  direction  at  the  outset  he  kept 
his  eye  on  some  furze  bush  or  rock  straight  before  him  and  so  led 
us  in  a  fairly  straight  line.  "  If  you  lose  that,"  said  he,  "  you  are 
sure  to  go  in  a  circle."  ^ 

Here  must  the  Christian  onward  press, 

Through  toil  and  sweat,  through  foul  and  fair; 

In  days  of  gladness  or  distress 
Of  looking  back  he  must  beware. 

His  life  of  grace  must  still  advance. 

His  onward  gaze  fixed  on  the  goal, 
With  penance,  ever  new,  enhance 

The  love  and  virtue  of  his  soul. 

2.  Another  hindrance  to  progress  is  to  go  round  instead  of 
going   forward.     The   Sunday   Service,   hymn,  and   prayer,   and 

»  M.  G.  Pearse. 


EXODUS  XIV.   15  299 

sermon,  the  round  of  observances ;  the  daily  prayer,  the  round  of 
phrases.  How  many  of  us  know  this  same  disease  ?  How 
many  of  us  suffer  from  it?  Always  going  on;  never  going 
farther.  Always  going  on,  but  never  going  forward.  The  old 
failings  just  as  they  were ;  no  victories,  no  new  possessions,  no 
new  visions,  no  new  hopes,  no  added  strength,  no  fuller  service ; 
day  after  day,  week  after  week,  year  after  year — the  same  fixed 
round. 

IT  I  met  with  a  singular  occurrence  during  my  holiday  this 
year.  I  had  gone  for  a  day's  fishing.  The  river  was  very  low  and 
clear,  and  my  only  hope  was  in  crouching  under  the  rocks  and 
hiding  myself.  Suddenly  as  I  bent  down  absorbed  in  my  work, 
not  a  sound  about  me  but  the  tinkle  of  the  waterfall,  or  the 
brawl  of  the  shallows,  there  came  a  faint  bleat  at  my  side.  I 
looked  over  the  rock,  and  there  was  a  sheep  standing  deep  in  the 
water.  I  called  to  my  friend  who  was  with  me,  and  together  we 
lifted  the  poor  beast  up  over  the  steep  bushy  bank.  To  our 
unutterable  disgust,  it  instantly  tm^ned  and  flopped  into  the 
water  again.  Again  we  leaned  over  the  bank,  and  lifted  it  out 
once  more,  and  this  time  took  care  to  take  it  far  enough  to  be 
safe.  At  once  it  began  to  walk,  but  only  went  round  and  round. 
"  What  is  the  matter  with  it  ? "  said  I,  recalling  the  West-country 
saying,  "  as  maazed  as  a  sheep."  "  Oh,"  said  my  friend,  "  it  has  got 
the  rounders,  something  the  matter  with  the  brain.  They  think 
they  are  going  on,  but  they  are  always  going  round."  "Poor 
thing,"  said  I.  "  I  know  many  people  like  that,  only  it  is  some- 
thing the  matter  with  the  heart.  They  think  they  are  going  on, 
but  they  are  always  going  round."  ^ 

3.  A  third  hindrance  is  fear.  Israel  often  looked  forward, 
but  got  no  farther.  They  said,  "Their  cities  are  walled  up  to 
heaven.  The  men  are  giants,  in  whose  sight  we  are  as  grass- 
hoppers," and  they  went  back  again  to  the  dreary  round  in  the 
wilderness.    Now  our  safety  is  in  going  on. 

^  When  I  was  in  South  Africa,  I  heard  a  humorous  story — 
true,  I  may  say,  for  it  came  to  me  at  first  hand.  Two  young  men 
who  had  three  days'  holiday  had  set  their  hearts  on  riding  up 
the  country  each  to  see  the  young  lady  to  whom  he  was  engaged. 
With  light  hearts  they  started,  and  entered  the  forest  through 
which  we  were  riding  when  my  friend  told  me  the  story. 
Surrounded  by  the  glory  of  the  blue  sky,  under  the  shadow  of 
the  trees  they  were  riding  along  briskly,  when  suddenly  they 

1  M.  G.  Pearse. 


300  FORWARD ! 

were  startled  by  a  terrible  roar.  They  pulled  up  their  horses 
instantly  and  turned  to  each  other.  "  That  is  a  lion.  No  doubt 
about  that,"  said  one.  "  It  is  not  safe  to  go  on,"  said  the  other. 
Then  each  thought  of  the  lady  he  loved  so  well,  and  begrudged 
that  the  rare  holiday  should  be  spoiled,  and  so  they  pushed  on  a 
few  yards  farther.  Then  came  another  roar,  and  again  they 
stopped.  "It  is  a  lion — enraged  too."  And  they  dreaded  to 
proceed.  Along  the  path  came  a  cheery  old  gentleman,  who 
greeted  them  with  a  bright  "  Good-day,"  and  then  disappeared  in 
front  of  them  amongst  the  trees.  They  had  called  to  him  about 
the  lion  that  threatened  them,  but  he  was  stone  deaf,  and 
thinking  only  it  was  some  pleasant  observation  about  the  weather, 
had  nodded  and  gone  on.  Once  more  there  came  the  roar.  The 
horsemen,  concerned  more  about  the  safety  of  him  who  had  just 
left  them  than  their  own,  said,  "  We  must  go  and  warn  him.  He 
is  too  deaf  to  hear  the  roar."  Then  was  it,  as  they  turned  the 
corner,  that  they  reached  a  round  pool  in  the  heart  of  the  wood, 
and  on  the  edge  of  it  there  sat  a  group  of  bull-frogs,  whose 
thunder  had  melted  the  hearts  of  the  lovers,  and  threatened  their 
holiday.  With  a  laugh  at  their  own  fright,  they  hastened  on 
their  way.  "It  is  a  lion,"  saith  Fear.  "We  must  stay."  .  .  . 
But  he  who  goes  on  shall  find  most  commonly  that  it  la  but  a 
bull-frog.     Go  forward.^ 

Be  you  still,  be  you  still,  trembling  heart; 

Remember  the  wisdom  out  of  the  old  days. 

He  who  trembles  before  the  flame  and  the  flood, 

And  the  winds  that  blow  through  the  starry  ways, 

Let  the  starry  winds  and  the  flame  and  the  flood 

Cover  over  and  hide,  for  he  hath  no  part 

With  the  proud,  majestical  multitude.* 

»  M.  G.  Pearse.  •  W.  B.  Yeatfc 


Life  in  God's  Presence. 


9» 


Literature. 

Brown  (J.  B.),  T%e  SouVs  Exodus,  255. 

Greenhough  (J.  G.),  Christian  Festivals  and  Anniversaries,  lOt 

Jowett  (J.  H.),  The  Silver  Lining,  60. 

M'Kim  (R.  H.),  The  Gospel  in  the  Christian  Year,  61. 

Meyer  (F.  B.),  Moses  the  Servant  of  God,  134. 

Moule  (H.  C.  G.),  Thoughts  for  the  Sundays  of  the  Year,  9. 

Price  (A.  C),  Fifty  Sermons,  ix.  145. 

Robarts  (F.  H.),  Sunday  Morning  Talks,  6. 

Vaughan  (J.),  Sermons  (Brighton.  Pulpit),  vii.  No.  688. 

Christian  World  Pulpit,  Ixiii.  317  (Fairbairn) ;  Ixv.  22  (BrownX 

Contemporary  Pulpit,  2nd  Ser.,  iii.  129  (Moore). 

Homiletic  Review,  xxxviii.  45  (Knox). 

Preachei's  Magaeine  (1903),  xiv.  32  (Edwards). 


Life  in  God's  Presence. 

My  presence  shall   go  with  thee,  and  I  will  give  thee  rest— Exod. 
xxxiii.  14. 

These  are  the  words  of  God's  assurance,  anticipating  an  almost 
agonizing  supplication  of  Moses,  "If  thy  presence  go  not  with 
me,  carry  us  not  up  hence."  The  prayer  was  uttered  on  the  edge 
of  the  great  wilderness.  Moses  was  about  to  loose  his  hold  on  his 
last  familiar  resting-place,  and  commit  himself  and  his  people 
to  its  unknown  wilds.  All  the  magnitude  of  his  great  under- 
taking was  pressing  on  him  at  that  moment.     "  Who  is  sufficient 

for  these  things  ? "  he  cried,  like  one  who,  after  the  lapse  of  ages 

a  pilgrim  of  Sinai,  too — set  his  hand  to  the  conversion  of  a 
world.  The  Divine  guidance  was  absolutely  a  question  of  life 
or  deatL  Thus  far  the  ground  over  which  the  Israelites  had 
passed  was  familiar  marching-ground  to  their  great  leader. 
Moreover,  their  march  had  been  a  triumphal  exodus  from 
bondage.  Up  to  Sinai,  Egypt  was  behind  them,  and  they  had 
the  joyous  sense  that  they  were  escaping  from  hated  and 
tyrannous  foes.  From  Sinai,  Canaan  was  before  them,  and  the 
grand  difficulties  and  perils  of  their  enterprise  began.  It  was 
the  great  critical  point  of  their  course.  They  had  need  of  a 
vision  of  a  Divine  leader,  whose  pillar  of  flame  should  shine,  not 
on  their  march  only,  but  in  their  hearts. 

I. 

In  the  Wilderness. 

1.  Moses  was  the  man  of  Israel,  the  man  in  whom  all  the 
higher  life  and  aim  of  the  whole  community  expressed  itself. 
We  study  Israel  through  him  ;  and  we  shall  get  nearer  to  the 

heart  of  this  great  matter — the  Lord's  guidance  of  the  host if 

we  listen  to  his  wrestling  supplication,  in  which  the  intercessor 
was  uttering  the  cry  of  a  whole  people,  and  catch  the  words  of 
the  answer  of  God,  than  if  we  were  to  study,  as  we  might,  the 


304  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

external  form  of  the  guiding  angel,  marvellous,  miraculous,  and 
richly  symbolic  as  it  unquestionably  is.  "And  the  Lord  went 
before  them  by  day  in  a  pillar  of  cloud,  to  lead  them  in  the  way ; 
and  by  night  in  a  pillar  of  fire,  to  give  them  light ;  to  go  by  day 
and  night.  He  took  not  away  the  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  nor 
the  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  from  before  the  people."  A  grand, 
sublime  symbol,  amongst  the  greatest  things  in  history.  Think 
of  it  for  a  moment.  Imagine  that  host  winding  through  the 
dreary  paths  of  the  desert,  lonely  there  as  a  people  among 
peoples,  as  their  Lord  became  lonely  as  a  man  among  men ;  cut 
off  utterly  from  all  national  associations  and  sympathies;  the 
strongest  people  in  the  world  behind  them,  animated  by  the 
most  deadly  hatred,  and  powerful  nations  in  front,  armed  to 
receive  them  and  to  dispute  with  them  every  inch  of  the  inherit- 
ance they  were  resolved  to  win ;  marching  on  along  those  solemn 
desert  pathways,  with  the  visible  sign  in  the  midst  of  them  of 
the  presence  in  person  of  the  Lord  God  of  the  whole  world. 
There,  under  the  blazing  rays  of  the  burning  noon,  a  soft  cloud 
spread  its  cool  shadow  on  the  weary  plain,  and  refreshed  imagina- 
tion— and  what  pure  refreshment  that  is — with  the  picture  of 
the  shadowing  love  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty  over  the  whole 
wearying  pilgrimage  and  battle  march  of  life !  And  then,  as 
evening  fell,  and  the  glooms  of  night  began  to  drop  their  awful 
shroud — for  nightfall  is  awful  in  the  lonely  waste — over  the 
weird  forms  and  hues  of  those  beetling  cliffs,  or  the  gaunt  outlines 
of  the  desert  palms,  the  cloud  began  to  glow  and  lighten,  till  it 
cast  a  broad  flood  of  living  lustre,  such  as  we  see  on  earth  only 
in  dreams,  on  the  whole  scene  of  the  desert  encampment.  It 
touched  the  spurs  and  peaks  of  the  mountains,  till  they  stood 
glowing  like  angel  sentinels  around  the  camp  of  God's  redeemed, 
and  filled  the  night  watchers  with  some  vision  of  what  might  be 
seen,  if  the  veils  were  lifted,  and  all  the  heavenly  armies  appeared 
attending  the  path  of  God's  host  through  battles  and  perils, 
through  foaming  seas  and  dreary  deserts,  to  their  glorious  rest. 

From  life's  enchantments, 

Desire  of  place. 

From  lust  of  getting 

Turn  thou  away  and  set  thy  face 

Toward  the  wilderness. 


EXODUS  XXXIII.   14  305 

The  tents  of  Jacob 

As  valleys  spread, 

As  goodly  cedars 

Or  fair  lign  aloes,  white  and  red, 

Shall  share  thy  wilderness. 

With  awful  judgments, 

The  law,  the  rod. 

With  soft  allurements 

And  comfortable  words,  will  God 

Pass  o'er  the  wilderness. 

The  bitter  waters 

Are  healed  and  sweet; 

The  ample  heavens 

Pour  angel's  bread  about  thy  feet 

Throughout  the  wilderness. 

And  Carmel's  glory 
Thou  thoughtest  gone, 
And  Sharon's  roses. 
The  excellency  of  Lebanon 
Delight  thy  wilderness. 

Who  passeth  Jordan 

Perfumed  with  myrrh. 

With  myrrh  and  incense? 

Lo!  on  His  arm  Love  leadeth  her 

Who  trod  the  wilderness.^ 

But  magnificent  as  was  the  sign,  the  thing  signified  trans- 
cended it.  In  vain  would  the  Divine  presence  have  been  shown 
to  them  in  that  miraculous  cloud  and  glory,  if  there  had  been  no 
inner  sense  of  the  Divine  presence  in  their  hearts.  It  is  in  the 
communion  between  Moses  and  the  Divine  Leader  of  the  host  that 
we  are  admitted  into  the  true  sanctuary  of  that  people's  strength. 
Just  so  far  as  their  spirits  went  with  Moses  in  this  prayer,  in  this 
yearning  for  the  inner  presence  and  guidance  of  God,  did  they 
march  joyously  and  triumphantly  on  their  way ;  and  when  that 
failed,  the  visible  cloud  of  splendour  helped  them  no  longer; 
they  dropped  like  blighted  fruit  from  the  living  tree,  and  their 
carcases  fell  in  the  wilderness. 

'  Anna  Bimstoa. 
GEN.-NUM. — 20 


3o6  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

2.  The  lot  of  Moses  was  an  unenviable  one.  He  was  about  to 
quit  the  familiar  ground,  the  old  home  of  his  exile,  the  mountain 
region  of  Horeb,  The  path  onward  lay  through  unknown  deserts, 
and  would  most  surely  be  beset  by  daring  and  experienced  foes. 
It  was  a  prospect  before  which  even  a  soul  of  such  heroic  mould 
might  quail.  Would  God  go  with  him,  not  in  a  pillar  of  cloud, 
as  the  national  leader,  but  as  friend,  companion,  comrade  of  his 
spirit  ?  Let  him  have  that  promise,  and  he  would  go  bravely  on, 
God  had  cast  the  lonely  lot  of  this  man  amongst  a  people 
utterly  uninstructed  and  unintelligent,  unable  to  understand, 
indisposed  to  reverence  his  thoughts,  and  ever  breaking  in  on  the 
meditations  and  communings  on  which  the  fate  of  unborn  ages 
was  hanging,  with  their  sensuous  outcries,  "Hast  thou  brought 
out  this  whole  nation  into  the  wilderness,  that  it  may  perish  with 
hunger  ? "  Here  was  a  man,  moreover,  who  had  deeper  thoughts 
about  the  Divine  nature  and  character  than  any  other  man  of 
his  day ;  to  whom  the  meaning  of  life  and  the  sacredness  of  duty 
were  more  plain.  For  had  he  not  entered  into  the  inner  court 
of  the  Divine  presence,  and  gazed  on  the  glory  which  no  eye 
but  his  had  prevailed  to  look  upon,  and  talked  with  God  face  to 
face,  as  a  man  talketh  with  his  friend?  And  see  him  there, 
among  a  people  who  clung  to  the  outer  court,  for  it  was  less 
dreadful  than  the  inner ;  who  had  no  conception  of  the  solemnity 
of  a  Divine  command,  except  when  it  was  enforced  by  plagues ; 
and  who  assailed  him,  when  he  came  forth  from  this  Divine 
communion,  with  the  very  glory  on  his  countenance,  full  of  that 
"favour"  which  is  the  life  of  men  and  peoples,  with  scornful 
questions  about  graves !     Never,  perhaps,  was  man  so  lonely. 

^  Supreme  excellence  is  always  lonely — the  great  ruler, 
statesman,  warrior,  all  tread  a  solitary  path,  all  alike  have  secrets 
which  no  other  may  or  can  share.  In  some  degree  this  is  true  of 
every  man.  Each  one  travels  on  a  solitary  way.  "  What  man 
knoweth  the  thoughts  of  a  man  ? " — his  hopes,  his  fears,  his  yearn- 
ings, his  aspirations  ?     God  has  given  men  their  own  lives  to  live ; 

And  bade  betwixt  their  shores  to  be 
The  unplumb'd,  salt,  estranging  sea. 

Many  of  our  experiences  are  unique,  unanticipated,  incom- 
municable. "  All  alone  we  live,"  and  "  all  alone  we  die."  God's 
presence   means   companionship,   and   in  that  companionship  is 


EXODUS  XXXIII.  14  307 

safety  and  strength.  He  knows  all  the  way  from  the  beginning, 
and  with  Him  there  can  be  no  loneliness,  no  surprise,  no  disaster. 
He  gives  strength  to  walk  the  most  lonely  and  difficult  path.* 

3.  What  are  some  of  the  lonely  experiences  of  life  which  will 
be  cheered  by  this  wonderful  Companionship  ? 

(1)  There  is  the  loneliness  of  unshared  sorrow. — Is  there  any- 
thing more  solitary  than  sorrow  that  can  find  no  friendly  ear  ? 
Sorrow  which  has  an  audience  can  frequently  find  relief  in  telling 
and  retelling  its  own  story.  How  often  the  bereaved  one  can 
find  a  cordial  for  the  pain  in  recalling  the  doings  and  prowess  of 
the  departed !  It  is  a  wise  ministry,  in  visiting  the  bereaved,  to 
give  them  abundant  opportunity  of  speaking  about  the  lost.  The 
heart  eases  itself  in  such  shared  remembrance.  Grief  is  saved 
from  freezing,  and  the  genial  currents  of  the  soul  are  kept  in 
motion.  But  when  sorrow  has  no  companionable  presence  with 
which  to  commune,  the  grief  becomes  a  withering  and  desolating 
ministry.  "When  I  kept  silence,  my  bones  waxed  old."  Ay, 
there  is  nothing  ages  people  like  the  loneliness  of  unshared  grief. 
And  there  are  multitudes  of  people  who  know  no  friendly  human 
ear  into  which  they  can  pour  the  story  of  their  woes.  The  outlet 
manward  is  denied  them.  What  then  ?  Is  the  desolation  hope- 
less ?  "  My  presence  shall  go  with  thee."  The  story  can  be 
whispered  into  the  ear  of  the  Highest.  The  Companionship  is  from 
above. 

^  Said  one  lonely  soul,  who  had  been  nursing  his  grief  in 
secret,  as  the  stricken  doe  seeks  to  hide  the  arrow  that  rankles 
in  its  breast,  "  I  will  pour  out  my  soul  unto  the  Lord,"  and  in 
the  sympathy  of  that  great  Companionship  his  sorrow  was 
lightened,  and  transfigured,  like  rain  clouds  in  the  sun. 

In  the  dark  and  cloudy  day. 
When  earth's  riches  flee  away, 
And  the  last  hope  will  not  stay, 
My  Saviour,  comfort  me. 

When  the  secret  idol's  gone, 
That  my  poor  heart  yearned  upon, 
Desolate,  bereft,  alone, 

My  Saviour,  comfort  me. 

1  J.  KdwMtis. 


3o8  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

(2)  There  is  the  loneliness  of  unshared  triumph. — Lonely 
triumph  is  as  desolate  as  unshared  grief.  When  I  sin  and  falter, 
I  feel  I  need  a  companion  to  whom  I  can  tell  the  story  of  my 
defeat ;  but  when  I  have  some  secret  triumph  I  want  a  companion 
to  share  the  glow  and  glory  of  the  conquest,  or  the  glow  and 
glory  will  fade.  Even  when  we  conquer  secret  sin  the  heart  calls 
for  a  Companion  in  the  joy !  And  here  He  is  !  "  My  presence 
shall  go  with  thee."  If  you  will  turn  to  the  Book  of  Psalms  you 
will  find  how  continually  the  ringing  paeans  sound  from  hearts 
that  are  just  bursting  with  the  desire  to  share  their  joy  and 
triumph  with  the  Lord.  They  are  the  communings  of  victory, 
the  gladsome  fellowship  of  radiant  souls  and  their  God.  His 
Presence  shall  go  with  us,  and  He  will  destroy  the  loneliness  of 
unshared  joy. 

^  My  memory  recalls  with  vivid  clearness  one  of  the  boys 
in  the  school  where  I  received  my  earliest  training.  He  wae 
an  orphan,  but  more  than  that,  he  was  perfectly  friendless. 
Those  who  were  nearest  to  him  were  all  dead,  and  the  entire 
interest  of  his  guardian  exhausted  itself  in  paying  the  school-fees 
as  they  became  due.  When  the  holidays  came,  and  we  all 
bounded  home,  he  remained  at  school,  for  he  had  nowhere  else  to 
go.  I  thought  little  or  nothing  about  it.  Certainly  his  position 
did  not  move  me  to  pain,  until  one  day  his  loneliness  broke  upon 
me  with  appalling  reality,  when  in  the  class-lists  he  appeared  as 
the  premier  boy  in  the  school.  His  triumph  was  most  dis- 
tinguished and  brilliant,  but  he  had  no  one  to  share  it !  No 
father,  no  mother,  no  kinsman,  no  friend  !  I  felt  that  in  his 
success  he  was  more  desolate  than  in  his  defeats !  His  bereave- 
ment seemed  to  culminate  in  his  triumphs. 

^  I  had  a  friend  who  in  mature  life  published  a  book  on  which 
he  had  bestowed  the  hard  labours  of  many  years.  Some  time 
before  its  publication  his  wife  died,  and  he  was  left  alone.  The 
book  received  an  enthusiastic  welcome,  and  now  enjoys  high 
eminence  in  its  own  department  of  learning.  I  spoke  to  my 
friend  of  his  well-deserved  reward,  and  of  the  triumph  of  his 
labours.  His  face  immediately  clouded,  and  he  quietly  said, 
"  Ah,  if  only  she  were  here  to  share  it ! "  I  say,  his  loneliness 
culminated  there,  and  his  sharpest  pang  was  experienced  in  his 
sunniest  hour.^ 

(3)  There  is  the   Umelineu  of  temptation. — Our  friends   can 
'  I.  B.  Jowvtt 


EXODUS  XXXIII.  14  309 

accompany  us  bo  far  along  the  troubled  way,  and  by  G-od's  good 
grace  they  can  partially  minister  to  our  progress  by  re-arranging 
our  environment,  and  removing  many  of  the  snares  and  pitfalls 
from  our  path.  But  in  this  serious  business  of  temptation  it  is 
little  that  friend  can  do  for  friend.  The  great  battle  is  waged 
behind  a  door  they  cannot  enter.  But  we  need  not  be  alone! 
One  Presence  can  pass  the  door  that  leads  to  the  secret  place. 
"My  presence  shall  go  with  thee,"  not  as  an  interested  or 
applauding  spectator,  but  as  Fellow-worker,  Fellow-fighter, 
Redeemer,  and  Friend.  The  loneliness  of  the  wilderness  is 
peopled  by  the  ubiquitous  presence  of  the  Lord. 

T  Every  soul  that  has  had  any  moral  experience  whatever 
must  know  that  the  best  elements  in  his  composition  are  those 
derived  from  passages  in  his  life  where  no  second  could  keep  his 
soul  company — where  he  must  be  alone ;  disappointments  that 
he  must  suffer  alone ;  reflections  where  he  must  look  to  his  own 
soul  and  his  God  alone.  Two  conditions  have  affixed  themselves 
to  the  history  of  moral  reformers  and  heroes :  they  have  first  been 
overshadowed  by  the  great  ideas  for  the  redemption  of  humanity 
which  have  filled  their  souls,  in  solitary  thinking ;  and  when  they 
have  gone  out  on  their  beneficent  errands,  they  have  had  to  work 
alone — confront  apathy  and  opposition  unsupported  by  the 
sympathies  of  any  multitude.^ 

(4)  And  there  is  the  loneliness  of  death. — It  is  pathetic,  deeply 
pathetic,  how  we  have  to  stand  idly  by  at  the  last  moment — 
doctor,  nurse,  husband,  wife,  child — all  to  stand  idly  by,  when  the 
lonely  voyager  launches  forth  into  the  unknown  sea !  "  It  is  the 
loneliness  of  death  that  is  so  terrible.  If  we  and  those  whom  we 
love  passed  over  simultaneously,  we  should  think  no  more  of 
it  than  changing  our  houses "  from  one  place  to  another.  But 
every  voyager  goes  alone !  Alone  ?  Nay,  there  is  a  Fellow- 
voyager!  "My  presence  shall  go  with  thee."  The  last,  chill 
loneliness  is  warmed  by  the  Resurrection  Life.  There  is  a 
winsome  light  in  the  valley,  as  of  the  dawning  of  grander  days. 
"  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  I  will 
fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  ma"  "When  thou  passest 
through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee,  and  through  the  rivers, 
they  shall  not  overflow  thee." 

^  He   had   of   course   his   ups  and  downs  during   this   time. 

'  7.  D.  Huntington,  Christian  Believing  and  Living,  208. 


3IO  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

He  was  in  full  practice,  leading  his  life  as  before,  but  whenever 
we  found  ourselves  alone  together  he  was  serious,  and,  though  he 
did  not  again  refer  to  his  health,  he  never  played  the  parts  of  the 
author,  inflated  or  distressed,  or  did  any  of  the  other  things  which 
used  to  make  my  occasional  Wednesday  afternoon  walks  with  him 
so  delightful.  One  thing  I  do  remember:  during  a  walk  home 
from  the  House  he  suddenly  asked  me  what  I  took  to  be  the  most 
melancholy  lines  in  English  poetry.  Being  accustomed  to  such 
conundrums  from  him,  I  was  not  much  surprised,  and  answered 
that,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  I  could  think  of  none  more 
melancholy,  considering  Swift's  genius  for  friendship,  than  those 
lines  of  his  written  in  sickness  in  Ireland — 

'Tis  true — then  why  should  I  repine 
To  see  my  life  so  fast  decline  ? 
But  why  obscurely  here  alone 
Where  I  am  neither  loved  nor  known  ? 
My  state  of  health  none  care  to  learn, 
My  life  is  here  no  soul's  concern, 
And  those  with  whom  I  now  converse 
Without  a  tear  will  tend  my  hearse. 

I  spouted  these  lines,  melancholy  though  they  are,  light-heartedly 
enough,  and  was  completely  taken  aback  by  the  effect  they 
produced  upon  my  companion.  He  stopped  in  his  walk,  ex- 
claiming several  times  with  a  strange  emphasis,  "Horrible! 
horrible !  horrible ! "  and  twice  added,  "  I'm  not  like  that."  I 
could  only  bite  my  lips  and  wish  I  had  thought  of  some  other 
lines.^ 

Whene'er  goes  forth  Thy  dread  command, 

And  my  last  hour  is  nigh. 
Lord,  grant  me  in  a  Christian  land, 

As  I  was  born,  to  die. 

I  pray  not,  Lord,  that  friends  may  be, 

Or  kindred,  standing  by, — 
Choice  blessing!  which  I  leave  to  Thee 

To  grant  me  or  deny. 

But  let  my  failing  limbs  beneath 

My  Mother's  smile  recline; 
And  prayers  sustain  my  labouring  breath 

From  out  her  sacred  shrine. 

'  Augustiue  Birrell,  Sir  Frank  Lockwood,  191. 


EXODUS  xxxiii.   14  311 

Thou,  Lord,  where'er  we  lie,  canst  aid; 

But  He,  who  taught  His  own 
To  live  as  one,  will  not  upbraid 

The  dread  to  die  alone.^ 

4.  Interpreters  in  all  times  and  of  all  shades  of  religious  belief 
have  agreed  in  finding  in  the  wilderness  a  type  of  life.  The  type, 
however,  covers  only  a  partial  aspect  of  life,  and  it  is  not  on  the 
wilderness  aspect  alone  that  we  must  dwell  when  we  think  of  life 
in  its  fulness  and  continuity.  The  old  spirit  of  Stoicism  may 
enter  unduly  even  in  our  day,  to  the  spoiling  of  life  as  God  gave 
it,  although  at  the  present  time  it  is  not  so  much  a  spirit  of 
sternness  as  a  spirit  of  indifference  which  finds  in  life  nothing  but 
a  wilderness.  To  be  an  enthusiast  is  not  fashionable.  I  cannot 
do  this  because  I  am  bored,  is  too  often  the  answer  to  the  old 
heathen  question.  Is  life  worth  living  ?  But  this  is  not  the  way 
in  which  we  are  to  apply  the  type.  The  wilderness  was  only  a 
passing  phase  in  Israel's  life's  history,  and  even  this  was  not 
without  its  spots  of  brightness.  A  prophet — perhaps  one  who 
had  himself  passed  through  the  Exile — could  sing,  "The  desert 
shall  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose."  It  was  hope  that  trans- 
formed the  prophet's  wilderness,  and  it  is  hope  that  will  transform 
ours.  And  if  we  ask.  Whence  does  this  hope  come  ?  surely  we 
find  the  answer  in  the  words  spoken  to  Moses,  "My  presence 
shall  go  with  thee,  and  I  will  give  thee  rest."  It  is  God's  abiding 
presence  with  the  soul  which  teaches  it  to  know  the  dignity  of  a 
life  lived  in  communion  with  Him,  the  continuity  of  which,  begun 
here,  can  never  be  broken  off  through  eternity.  "  In  thy  presence," 
says  the  Psalmist,  "  is  fulness  of  joy ;  at  thy  right  hand  there  are 
pleasures  for  evermore"  (Ps.  xvi.  11). 

^  I  shall  give  only  one  of  Dr.  Rainy's  stories,  which  I  think 
has  never  been  published.  It  concerned  two  saintly  fathers  of 
the  Disruption — the  dignified  Dr.  Gordon  of  the  High  Church 
and  the  quaint  Dr.  Bruce  of  St.  Andrew's  Church.  The  two 
were  conducting  or  had  just  conducted  a  joint  service,  which  had 
been  peculiarly  inspiring  and  uplifting.  Dr.  Gordon,  who  had 
a  manner  almost  majestically  grave,  in  hushed  solemn  tones 
whispered  to  the  other,  "Is  not  this  a  foretaste  of  Paradise?" 

'  J.  H.  Newman. 


312  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

To  which  Dr.  Bruce  replied :  "  'Deed,  I  was  jiat  nippin'  mysel' 
tae  mak'  sure  I  wasna  oot  o'  the  body."  ^ 

II. 

The  Presencb  of  God. 

"  My  presence  shall  go  with  thee." 

Moses  was  promised  not  only  guidance,  but  personal  friendship. 
"  My  presence  "  means  literally  "  My  Face."  He  was  to  have 
always  with  him  a  personal  Companionship.  He  was  to  hold 
converse  face  to  face,  eye  to  eye,  with  One  who  was  strong 
enough  to  meet  all  his  demands  for  guidance,  succour,  and  strength. 
What  he  should  enjoy  should  be  no  mere  superintendence,  as 
from  a  distant  heaven.  An  everlasting  Friend  should  travel 
with  him  along  the  desert,  and  sit  with  him  in  his  tent,  and 
accompany  him  to  the  council,  and  to  the  seat  of  justice,  and 
amidst  the  rebellious  concourse,  and  to  the  field  of  battle  with 
heathen  foes,  giants,  and  others,  when  the  time  should  come. 
He  should  experience  the  infinite  difference  of  being  never  alone, 
never  without  a  personal  Presence,  perfectly  sympathetic,  and 
at  the  same  time  almighty. 

How  is  the  presence  of  God  to  be  realized  in  the  Christian 
life? 

1.  Think,   first  of  all,   what  the  presence   of  God  is  in  the 

individual  Christian's  life.  How  infinitely  more  it  means  to  us 
than  it  could  have  meant  to  Moses.  To  him  it  meant  a  signal 
honour  for  his  people,  a  separation  from  all  nations  by  the  fact 
that  God  was  with  them,  that  they  were  the  Lord's  host  and 
God  their  Captain,  their  earthly  leader  only  His  vicegerent.  In 
the  fact  of  the  Incarnation  we  bow  before  a  greater  mystery,  we 
receive  a  higher  gift,  than  patriarch  or  prophet  or  Old  Testament 
saint  could  dream  of.  In  the  finished  work  of  God  the  Son, 
human  life  has  been  transformed.  In  baptism  we  are  separated, 
far  more  than  ever  Israel  was — separated  not  as  a  nation  over- 
shadowed by  God's  presence,  but  as  those  who  by  the  grace  of 
union  have  been  united  with  God.  No  outward  visible  sign  of 
cloud  or  tire,  but  the  inward  reality  of  a  new  life  is  ours.     God 

•  P.  Carnegie  Simpson,  The  Life  of  Principal  Rainy,  ii.  97. 


EXODUS  XXXIII.   14  313 

and  man  are  no  longer  separated  as  they  were  before  Christ 
came.  They  are  one  in  Him  "  in  whom  dwelleth  all  the  fulness 
of  the  Godhead,"  while  yet  He  has  taken  our  nature  upon  Him. 
And  that  Presence  of  God  is  ever  renewed  to  us  in  the  sacrament 
of  love.  When  we  dwell  with  Christ  and  Christ  with  us,  we  are 
one  with  Christ ;  while  if  so  be  that  deadly  sin  has  separated  us 
from  that  supernatural  Presence,  Christ  has  Himself  ordained 
and  blessed  the  ministry  of  reconciliation  whereby  the  penitent 
is  restored  to  grace.  The  whole  meaning  and  purpose  of 
Christianity  is  to  assure  to  man  the  Presence  of  God,  removing 
that  separating  barrier  which  sin  has  raised,  destroying  sin  for 
us  by  the  Atonement,  killing  down  sin  in  us  by  the  power  of 
Divine  grace.  Pardon  and  life  are  the  two  needs  of  man's 
spiritual  nature,  the  two  gifts  of  God  in  Christ,  whereby  the 
Presence  of  God  is  secured  to  us. 

2.  But  there  is  a  danger  in  our  day  that  this  great  gift  of 
God  should  be  lost  to  us  almost  without  our  knowing  it.  We 
have  made  a  break  with  the  past  which  synchronizes  in  the  case 
of  most  of  us  with  the  first  dawn  of  intellectual  activity ;  we  are 
learning  to  think  for  ourselves,  and  at  the  moment  when  we 
want  the  calmest  judgment  and  the  coolest  head  we  feel  for  the 
first  time,  in  their  full  strength,  the  special  temptations  of  early 
manhood ;  we  are  surrounded  by  a  life  which  ministers  to  self- 
indulgence,  and  is  hostile  to  stern  moral  discipline.  We  have 
learnt  perhaps  the  A  B  C  of  philosophy,  and  already  feel  our- 
selves competent  to  make  for  ourselves  our  religious  creed.  But 
religion  is  not  made — ^it  grows  or  dies.  A  made  religion  does 
not  live.  It  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  something  of  reconstruction 
must  take  place  in  the  case  of  every  one  who  thinks.  The  faith 
which  we  were  taught  as  children,  and  unhesitatingly  received, 
must  become  ours  in  a  different  sense  if  it  is  to  go  with  us  through 
life.  It  has  to  be  brought  into  relation  with  the  new  truths  of 
science,  of  philosophy,  of  criticism,  which  are  flowing  in  upon  us. 
We  cannot  keep  it  as  the  only  part  of  our  intellectual  heritage 
which  must  not  be  examined,  hidden  away  in  some  sacred  place. 
But  it  is  one  thing  to  try  to  see  the  old  truths  in  the  light  of 
the  new  knowledge ;  it  is  another,  as  it  were,  to  sweep  away  the 
old  and  begin  afresh.     And  this  is  what  men  so  often  do.     And 


314  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

before  long  they  discover  that  the  Presence  of  God,  which  was 
with  them  in  the  old  life,  is  not  with  them  now.  They  thought 
they  might  drop  the  practice  of  religion  till  they  had  made  a 
place  for  it  in  their  new  theory  of  life ;  and  resume  it  when  the 
reconstruction  was  complete.  And  they  find  they  cannot ;  though 
there  is  still  the  longing  for  Him  who  made  us  for  Himself,  in 
whom  alone  our  hearts  can  rest.  It  is  in  vain  then  that  they 
attempt  to  fill  the  void  with  that  God  to  whom  the  speculative 
reason,  in  abstraction  from  conscience,  leads  us.  No  one  wants 
or  cares  for  an  abstract  first  cause.  What  the  soul  needs  is  a 
Living  God,  an  invisible  personality  behind  the  veil  of  things  we 
see,  who  can  be  to  us  both  a  Brother  in  sympathy  and  a  sincere 
object  of  worship.  "The  only  God,"  it  has  been  said,  "whom 
Western  Europeans,  with  a  Christian  ancestry  of  a  thousand 
years  behind  them,  can  worship,  is  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob ;  or  rather  of  St.  Paul,  St.  Augustine,  St.  Bernard,  and 
of  the  innumerable  blessed  saints,  canonized  or  not,  who  peopled 
the  ages  of  faith."  And  religion  stands  or  falls  with  the  belief 
in  a  personal  God,  and  the  possibility  of  communion  with  Him. 

0  thou  that  after  toil  and  storm 

Mayst  seem  to  have  reach'd  a  purer  air, 
Whose  faith  has  centre  everywhere, 

Nor  cares  to  fix  itself  to  form. 

Leave  thou  thy  sister  when  she  prays, 
Her  early  Heaven,  her  happy  views; 
Nor  thou  with  shadow'd  hint  confuse 

A  life  that  leads  melodious  days. 

Her  faith  thro'  form  is  pure  as  thine. 
Her  hands  are  quicker  unto  good: 
Oh,  sacred  be  the  flesh  and  blood 

To  which  she  links  a  truth  divine! 

See  thou,  that  countest  reason  ripe 

In  holding  by  the  law  within. 

Thou  fail  not  in  a  world  of  sin. 
And  ev'n  for  want  of  such  a  type.^ 

3.  In  the  wider  life  of  the  Church  we  are  called  upon  to  face 
a  similar  difficulty.  The  promise  of  God's  Presence  is  what  it  has 
always  been,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto   the  end  of 

*  Tennyson,  In  Memoriam,. 


EXODUS  xxxiii.  14  315 

the  world."  But  it  is  impossible  to  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  that 
the  life  of  the  Church  is  entering  on  a  new  phase.  The  old  days 
of  protection  are  going,  if  not  gone,  and  men  in  their  little  faith 
chink  that  religion  is  going  too.  A  great  wave  of  secularism 
seems  to  be  passing  over  our  land  and  beating  against  the 
temporal  bulwarks  of  our  national  Christianity.  And  men,  good 
men  and  true  in  their  personal  relations  with  God,  men  who 
have  learned  to  see  His  Presence  and  His  Hand  in  all  the  changes 
of  their  own  lives,  are  getting  anxious  and  doubtful  or  desponding 
as  if  God's  promise  to  His  Church  had  failed.  But  in  the  con- 
troversies of  the  Church  in  every  age,  as  in  the  struggles  of  our 
own  individual  lives,  it  is  impatience  that  leads  men  from  the 
truth.  We  are  tempted  to  a  reckless  abandonment  of  eternal 
principles  because  in  their  traditional  setting  they  do  not  fit  the 
present  need.  But  you  cannot  make  a  new  rehgion.  It  is  not 
by  abandoning  the  Christian  faith,  but  by  being  true  to  the  faith 
we  hold,  that  we  shall  reach  the  religion  of  the  future.  Amidst 
all  the  changes  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  the  Church  was 
driven  from  the  shade  of  the  monastery  to  the  broad  daylight  of 
the  world,  not  one  article  of  Christian  faith  was  lost  or  left 
behind.  And  if  we  are  to  judge  the  future  by  the  past,  those 
whom  God  will  choose  to  guide  His  Church  through  the  crisis  of 
the  present  age  will  be  neither  men  who,  panic-struck  and 
despairing,  shrink  from  change,  nor  those  who  recklessly  abandon 
the  ancient  faith  for  some  nineteenth-century  nostrum ;  but  real 
men,  who,  not  being  like  children  carried  away  with  every  "  blast 
of  vain  doctrine,"  have  the  strength  to  face  the  problem.  It  will 
be  those  who  in  all  the  changes  and  struggles  of  their  own 
spiritual  lives  can  trace  the  guiding  hand  of  God,  and  therefore 
in  the  wider  issues  of  the  Church  at  large  are  strong  enough  to  rest 
and  wait,  ready  to  face  the  grey  and  shivering  dawn  of  a  new  era, 
yet  true  to  the  ancient  Christian  faith,  and  strong  in  the  promised 
presence  of  their  God. 

III. 

Eest. 

*  I  wiU  give  thee  rest." 

There  are  two  possible  sorts  of  rest.     One  is  rest  after  toil, 
the  lying  down  of  the  weary,  at  the  end  of  the  march,  on  the 


3i6  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

morrow  of  the  battle,  on  the  summit  of  the  hill.  The  other  is 
rest  in  toil,  the  internal  and  deep  repose  and  liberty  of  a  spirit 
which  has  found  a  hidden  refuge  and  retreat,  where  feeling  is 
calm  and  disengaged,  while  the  march,  the  battle,  the  climb,  are 
still  in  full  course.  This  last  was  the  promise  to  Moses.  Another 
day,  a  distant  day,  was  to  come  when  he  should  taste  the  endless 
rest  after  toil,  when  he  should  sink  down  on  Pisgah  in  the  arms 
of  the  Lord,  and  (to  quote  the  beautiful  legendary  phrase)  should 
die — if  death  it  could  be  called — by  His  kiss.  But  now  he  was 
to  taste  the  wonderful  rest  in  toil  He  was  to  traverse  that  last 
long  third  of  his  vast  and  memorable  life,  thinking,  ruling, 
guiding,  bearing,  under  the  Divine  enabling  condition  of  the 
inward  rest  of  God,  passing  understanding. 

^  Of  course,  the  conscious  presence  of  God  with  us  is  possible 
only  on  three  conditions. 

Firstly,  we  must  walk  in  the  light,  as  He  is  in  the  light; 
for  He  will  have  no  fellowship  with  the  unfruitful  works  of 
darkness,  or  turn  aside  to  go  with  us  on  any  crooked  path  of  our 
own  choosing. 

Secondly,  we  must  recognize  that  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 
His  Son  constantly  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin ;  not  only  that  which 
we  judge  and  confess,  but  that  also  which  is  seen  only  by  His 
pure  and  holy  eyes. 

Thirdly,  we  must  claim  the  gracious  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
to  make  real  that  presence,  which  is  too  subtle  for  the  eye  of  man, 
unless  it  be  specially  enlightened.^ 

1.  Best  in  toil. — The  longing  of  man's  spirit  amid  all  the 
strifes,  discords,  and  confusions  of  life  is  for  rest.  Nothing  can 
eradicate  man's  conviction  that  strife  and  discord  have  no  right 
in  the  imiverse ;  that  they  are  abnormal ;  that  the  normal  con- 
dition of  things  and  beings  is  harmony,  and  that  harmony  is  the 
music  of  rest.  God  must  rest — rest  even  in  working;  and  all 
that  is  of  God,  and  from  God,  has  the  longing  and  the  tending  to 
rest  Perhaps  some  dull  notion  that  they  will  have  more  rest 
in  the  life  of  the  world,  that  they  will  escape  many  cares  and 
distractions,  and,  at  any  rate,  be  at  peace  in  sin,  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  many  a  backsliding  to  Egypt  in  human  hearts.  No 
man  at  first  is  content  to  let  the  question  alone — to  leave  the 
riddle  of  life  unread.     Hence  arises  the  long  discord  in  him  who 

>  F.  B.  Meyer,  Monea  the  ServaiU  of  Owl,  138. 


EXODUS  XXXIII.  14  317 

has  not  found  the  principle  of  the  Divine  harmony :  "  The  flesh 
lusteth  against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  striveth  against  the  flesh, 
and  the  two  are  contrary  the  one  to  the  other."  We  long  to  find 
some  truth  which  shall  release  us  from  the  agony,  and  make  some 
kind  of  harmony  in  our  lives.  We  find  this  battle  of  life 
inexplicable;  it  sometimes  shakes  our  faith  in  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  oui'  Grod.  We  shout  into  the  Sibyl  cave  and  listen 
for  the  responses ;  we  take  the  whispers  of  sense  for  the  answer, 
and  then  we  go  on  our  way.  But  the  conflict  again  begins,  the 
perplexities  again  return ;  again  and  again  we  cry,  each  time  in 
a  more  frenzied  mood,  "  Who  will  show  us  any  good  ? "  "  Who 
will  give  us  rest  ? "  From  the  midst  of  the  glow  of  glory  which 
surrounds  the  throne,  the  word  of  the  Son  of  God,  the  great 
Captain  of  the  human  host,  comes  down  to  every  earnest, 
struggling  spirit:  "My  presence  shall  go  with  thee,  and  I  will 
give  thee  rest." 

^  Perhaps  there  are  no  words  that  appeal  more  to  the  human 
heart,  or  fall  with  a  sweeter  cadence  on  the  human  ear,  into  what- 
ever language  they  may  be  translated,  than  the  words  of  our  Lord 
recorded  by  St.  Matthew  (xi.  28-30) :  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my 
yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls."  The  whole  secret 
of  rest  is  there,  not  a  rest  of  idleness,  but  a  rest  in  bearing 
Christ's  yoke.  And  He  adds,  "  My  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden 
is  light." 

^  An  aged,  weary  woman,  carrying  a  heavy  basket,  got  into  the 
train  with  me  the  other  day,  and  when  she  was  seated  she  still 
kept  the  heavy  burden  upon  her  arm  !  "  Lay  your  burden  down, 
mum,"  said  the  kindly  voice  of  a  working  man.  "Lay  your 
burden  down,  mum ;  the  train  will  carry  both  it  and  you."  Ay, 
that's  it !  "  Lay  your  burden  down  ! "  The  Lord  will  carry  both 
it  and  you !  "  I  will  give  thee  rest " :  not  by  the  absence  of  war- 
fare, but  by  the  happy  assurance  of  victory :  not  by  the  absence 
of  the  hill,  but  by  the  absence  of  the  spirit  of  fainting.  "  I  will 
give  thee  rest."* 

East  is  not  quitting 

The  busy  career; 
Kest  is  the  fitting 

Of  self  to  its  sphere. 

'  J.  H.  Jowatt. 


3i8  LIFE  IN  GOD'S  PRESENCE 

'Tis  the  brook's  motion, 

Clear  without  Btrife, 
Fleeing  to  ocean 

After  its  life. 

Deeper  devotion 

Nowhere  hath  knelt; 
Fuller  emotion 

Heart  never  felt. 

■  Tis  loving  and  serving 

The  highest  and  best! 
'Tis  onward!     Unswerving — 
And  that  is  true  rest.^ 

2.  Rest  after  toil. — Rest  in  toil  carries  with  it  the  promise  of  a 
fuller  and  more  perfect  rest  after  toil.  "And  I  heard  a  voice 
from  heaven  saying,  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord 
from  henceforth :  yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from 
their  labours ;  and  their  works  do  follow  them." 

Art  thou  so  weary  then,  poor  thirsty  soul  ? 

Have  patience,  in  due  season  thou  shalt  sleep. 

Mount  yet  a  little  while,  the  path  is  steep : 
Strain  yet  a  little  while  to  reach  the  goal : 
Do  battle  with  thyself,  achieve,  control: 

Till  night  come  down  with  blessed  slumber  deep 

As  love,  and  seal  thine  eyes  no  more  to  weep 
Through  long  tired  vigils  while  the  planets  roll. 
Have  patience,  for  thou  too  shalt  sleep  at  length, 

Lapt  in  the  pleasant  shade  of  Paradise. 

My  Hands  that  bled  for  thee  shall  close  thine  eyes, 

My  Heart  that  bled  for  thee  shall  be  thy  rest: 
I  will  sustain  with  everlasting  strength, 

And  thou,  with  John,  shalt  lie  upon  My  breast.' 

1  John  Sullivan  D  wight.  '  Christina  6.  BossettL 


Unconscious  Glory. 


319 


Literature. 

Back  (W.  J,),  in  A  Book  of  Lay  Sermonty  247. 

Christopherson  (H.),  Sermons,  148. 

Dinwoodie  (J.),  Outliiie  Studies,  3. 

Gray  (W.  A.),  The  Shadow  of  the  Ha/nd,  177. 
V^Gregg  (D.),  Our  Best  Moods,  239. 

Halsey  (J.),  The  Beauty  of  the  Lord,  18. 
^Jowett  (J.  H.),  Meditations  for  Quiet  Moments,  22.  ^  (, 

Maclaren  (A.),  The  God  of  the  Amen,  259. 

McFadyen  (J.  E.),  Thoughts  for  Silent  Hours,  95. 

Shore  (T.  T.),  The  Life  of  the  World  to  Com^,  159. 

Christian  World  Pulpit,  xiv.  115  (Wonnacott)  ;  Ixxvii.  180  (Moffatt), 

Church  Pulpit  Year  Book,  viL  194. 


Unconscious  Glory. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Moses  came  down  from  mount  Sinai  .  .  . 
that  Moses  wist  not  that  the  skin  of  his  face  shone  by  reason  of  his  speaking 
with  liim. — Ezod.  xxxiv.  29. 

Whatever  view  we  take  of  the  manner  in  which  God  communi- 
cated to  Moses  those  moral  truths  which  are  contained  in  the  Ten 
Commandments,  we  cannot  fail  to  recognize  the  grandeur  and  the 
importance  of  the  event.  The  lawgiver  ascending  in  sublime 
soHtude  the  mountain,  from  whose  base  the  multitude  and  their 
flocks  were  far  removed — the  forty  days  of  intimate  colloquy  with 
God — the  cloud  of  the  Divine  Presence  surrounding  the  hilltop — 
the  power  of  a  Divine  illumination  glowing  with  such  splendour 
that  the  people  shrank  from  the  lawgiver's  pure  bright  gaze — 
these  are,  as  it  were,  the  solemn  surroundings  of  an  event  which 
marks  an  epoch  in  the  world's  history.  To  this  day,  those  Ten 
Commandments  are  the  basis  of  our  national  jurisprudence,  and 
the  tests  and  guides  of  our  personal  morality. 


In  the  Mount. 

1.  Mountains. — It  is  perhaps  impossible  to  estimate  the 
influence  which  mountains  have  on  the  thought  and  imagination 
of  a  religious  mind.  There  is  a  solemn  grandeur  about  mountain 
scenery  which  projects  an  impress  upon  life  and  character.  The 
summit  of  a  mountain  is  instinctively  connected  in  the  human 
mind  with  thoughts  of  God  and  an  approach  to  the  Infinite. 
Throughout  the  Bible  there  is  abundant  illustration  of  this 
mountain  influence.  The  ancient  Hebrew  poets  dwelt  among  the 
mountains.  Mountains  filled  their  imagination  and  inspired 
their  songs.  Nature  taught  them  to  love  the  mountains  and  to 
find  in  them  a  meeting-place  with  God. 

GEK.-NUM. — 21 


322  UNCONSCIOUS  GLORY 

^  Both  in  the  life  of  Moses  and  in  the  life  of  Christ,  mountains 
were  the  scene  of  many  of  the  most  signal  events  of  their 
histories.  Like  two  rivers,  the  secrets  of  their  power  are  up 
among  the  silent  hills.  Horeb,  with  its  flaming  bush,  Sinai's 
rugged  peaks,  invested  with  dark  clouds  of  the  Divine  glory, 
Pisgah,  commanding  the  extended  landscape  of  Canaan's  fertile 
valleys  and  fruitful  slopes,  and  Nebo,  where  he  went  up  to  die, 
are  mountains  that  correspond  in  the  life  of  Moses  to  Hattin 
and  Hermon,  the  lowly  Calvary  and  beautiful  Olivet,  in  the  life 
of  Christ.  It  was  on  those  meeting-places  of  earth  and  heaven, 
far  above  all  noise  and  din  of  men,  that  Moses  so  often  spoke 
with  Grod,  and  received  strength  for  his  arduous  mission,  and  it 
was  in  the  solitude  of  the  hills — not  rugged,  fire-coloured, 
beetling  cliffs  like  those  of  the  desert,  but  hills  mantled  with 
foliage,  around  whose  breast  the  vine  threw  her  tendrils,  and  on 
whose  brow  the  olive  and  the  pine  held  the  harp  of  their  branches 
to  the  winds — it  was  in  the  solitude  of  such  hills  that  the  Son 
of  Man  wrestled  in  His  nightly  prayer,  and  held  those  deep 
communings  with  His  Father  which  renewed  His  strength.  God 
has  dignified  those  grand  temples,  eloquent  in  silence,  with  events 
far  more  sublime  than  their  own  majesty,  and  far  more  awe- 
inspiring  than  their  own  stupendous  forms. 

We  lingered  long,  for  dearer 

Than  home  were  the  mountain  places 

Where  God  from  the  stars  dropt  nearer 
Our  pale,  dreamy  faces. 

Our  very  hearts  from  beating 

We  stilled  in  awed  delight. 
For  spirit  and  children  were  meeting 

In  the  purple,  ample  night.^ 

2.  Moses  a  man  of  prayer. — ^To  a  man  who  trusts  in  God 
responsibility  must  always  be  an  impetus  to  prayer.  And  so  it 
was  in  the  life  of  Moses.  We  cannot  read  the  story  in  the  early 
books  of  the  Bible  without  having  the  truth  brought  very  closely 
home  that  Moses  was  a  man  of  prayer.  He  never  forgot  the 
need  of  supplication,  of  asking  God  to  help  him  in  every  hour 
of  his  difficulties  as  he  led  the  children  of  Israel  through  the 
many  trials  of  the  wilderness.  He  never  forgot  that  he  was  in 
God's  hands.     He  did  not  think  of   how  he  himself  could  gain 

'  A.  E.,  The  Divine  Vision,  66. 


EXODUS  XXXIV.  29  323 

honour,  but  he  remembered  that  we  must  seek  first  the  honour 
and  glory  of  God.  And  so  throughout  his  life  he  was  one  who 
spent  much  time  in  God's  presence,  and  all  this  had  an  effect 
upon  his  character. 

3.  Moses  in  commimion  vnth  God. — Prayer,  in  its  most  perfect 
form,  is  communion  with  God.  It  is  in  communion  with  God  that 
every  soul  finds  satisfaction  for  its  highest  needs,  and  there  is 
also  a  sense  in  which  all  who  are  called  upon  to  lead  Christ's 
flock  must  experience  a  greater  need  than  those  who  are  led. 
How  keenly  this  need  is  sometimes  felt  by  us  may  be  fitly 
expressed  in  the  words  of  Longfellow — 

0  blessed  Lord!  how  much  I  need 
Thy  light  to  guide  me  on  my  way! 
So  many  hands,  that,  without  heed. 

Still  touch  thy  wounds,  and  make  them  bleed! 
So  many  feet,  that,  day  by  day, 
Still  wander  from  thy  fold  astray! 
Unless  thou  fill  me  with  thy  light, 

1  cannot  lead  thy  flock  aright; 
Nor,  without  thy  support,  can  bear 
The  burden  of  so  great  a  care, 
But  am  myself  a  castaway. 

4.  Having  come  down  from  the  Mount,  Moses  stands  before 
us  in  the  glory  of  a  spiritual  transfiguration.  What  transfigured 
him?  In  the  answer  to  this  question  lies  the  grand  secret  of 
his  life.  Communion  with  God:  that  was  what  transfigured 
him,  and  gave  him  power.  Aa  Moses  stands  before  us  with  his 
shining  face,  he  is  a  spiritual  and  refined  image  of  the  highest 
dream  of  aspiring  humanity. 

T  When  Michael  Angelo  had  finished  his  famous  colossal 
statue  of  David,  "  the  Giant,"  many  of  his  friends  who  had  not 
seen  him  during  the  years  when  he  was  working  upon  it  in 
Florence  declared  with  great  surprise  that  he  was  changed; 
his  face  was  changed.  And  as  they  looked  at  the  statue,  and  then 
at  the  skilful  chiseller,  it  was  seen  that  he  had  carved  his  con- 
ception of  David,  not  only  into  the  beautiful  whifie  stone,  but  also, 
all  unconsciously,  into  the  lines  of  his  own  beautified,  ennobled 
face.^ 

*  8.  D.  Gordon,  Quiet  Talks  on  Bcme  IdeaiLy  25. 


324  UNCONSCIOUS  GLORY 

IL 

Hb  wist  not. 

1.  "When  Moses  camo  down  from  the  Mount,  he  wist  not 
that  the  skin  of  his  face  shone  by  reason  of  God's  speaking  with 
him."  It  is  strange  that  while  the  multitude  recognized  the 
intense  spiritual  emotion  which  shone  through  his  flesh — a  reflex 
of  the  radiance  of  the  face  of  God — Moses  himself  was  un- 
conscious of  it.  "  He  wist  not  that  the  skin  of  his  face  shone." 
Few  and  simple  as  those  words  are,  there  could  be  none  grander 
written  to  the  memory  of  a  hero.  The  noblest  and  loftiest 
character  is  assuredly  that  of  the  man  who  is  so  absorbed  in  the 
divine  nature  of  his  calling,  and  so  conscious  of  the  need  of 
those  for  whom  he  labours,  that  he  becomes  forgetful  of  the 
beauty  in  his  character  which  others  recognize,  and  almost  un- 
conscious that  he  is  himself  the  worker.  And  so  we  picture 
Moses,  descending  from  the  Mount  into  the  midst  of  the  people, 
beautiful  with  the  divine  beauty  of  holiness  —  the  glory  of 
God  shining  through  his  features — yet  all  unconscious  of  his 
beauty. 

IT  I  think  the  story  of  the  radiance  upon  the  face  of  Moses 
may  remind  us  profitably  that  to  forget  ourselves  is  often  the 
most  efi*ective  way  of  impressing  others.  Moses  went  up  to  the 
mountain  with  a  burdened  mind,  the  thought  of  his  nation  lying 
on  his  heart,  and  following  him  even  in  his  moments  of  devotion. 
It  was  for  their  sake  he  prayed.  He  came  down  with  a  fresh 
zeal  and  insight  to  that  people,  but  in  the  noble  simplicity  of  his 
nature  he  was  unconscious  of  how  radiant  and  impressive  his 
personality  had  become.  He  was  not  thinking  about  impressive- 
ness  or  popularity.  What  occupied  him  was  a  sheer  sense  of 
duty  to  God  and  man.  He  wist  not  that  the  skin  of  his  face 
shone.^ 

S  The  change,  says  Sister  Agatha,  was  so  remarkable  that  she 
could  scarcely  believe  her  eyes.  She  heard  what  the  man  said, 
but  her  mind  was  dazed  by  the  look  in  his  face.  It  was  not  the 
same  man.  The  very  features  were  changed.  "I  shall  never 
forget  that  moment,  and  neither  will  you,  Mr.  Taylor ! "  she 
exclaims,  turning  to  him  with  loving  remembrance.  "We 
prayed  together,  and  we  were  very  happy,  were  we  not?  It 
was  a   true  case  of  '  Once  I  was  blind,  now  I  see.'     The  light 

i  J.  MoOttt. 


EXODUS  XXXIV.  29  325 

came  suddenly,  in  a  moment,  and  all  was  changed."     She  turns 
to  me.     "  His  face  was  transfigured.     It  was  shining."  * 

2.  We  learn  three  things  from  Moses  with  regard  to  the 
beauty  of  holiness.  First,  it  shines ;  secondly,  it  shineg  by  reflec- 
tion ;  and  thirdly,  it  shines  in  a  way  of  which  the  subject  himself 
is  unconscious. 

(1)  The  beauty  of  holiness  is  a  beauty  which  shines. — The  truth 
is,  of  course,  a  familiar  one.  Over  and  over  again  we  meet  with 
the  same  thought  in  Scripture  as  denoting  a  fact  which  is  at 
once  the  believer's  high  privilege  and  his  bounden  duty.  "  Arise, 
shine,  for  thy  light  is  come  " — so  rims  the  herald  message  in  Old 
Testament  prophecy.  "Let  your  light  shine  before  men,"  said 
He  who  Himself  was  the  world's  light.  "Among  whom,"  says 
St.  Paul,  "  ye  shine  as  lights  in  the  world,  holding  forth  the  word 
of  life."  In  consistency  with  the  same  idea,  ministers  are  called 
"  stars,"  and  the  churches  **  candlesticks " :  so  plain  is  it  that 
this  special  aspect  of  the  saint's  life  is  never  lost  sight  of — its 
power  of  self-evidence,  its  capacity  to  betray  and  dififuse  itself, 
so  that  its  existence  may  somehow  be  felt,  and  its  influence  be 
somehow  recognized. 

T  The  science  of  physiognomy  tells  ua  how  the  various 
qualities  of  intellect  and  the  difiFerent  dispositions  and  emotions 
of  the  soul  are  expressed  in  the  facial  features ;  so  that  you  can, 
to  some  extent  at  least,  read  a  man's  temperament  in  his  com- 
plexion and  measure  his  intelligence  by  the  gleam  in  his  eye. 
And  the  spiritual  nature  infallibly  expresses  itself  by  signs  and 
symbols  not  less  legible.  A  rapture  always  bewrays  itself. 
Faith  is  written  upon  the  brow.  Hope  beams  in  every  eye- 
glance.  Patience  is  registered  in  the  lips'  placid  repose.  All 
happy  people  are  beautiful  while  they  are  happy.  The  effect  is 
unconsciouB  to  the  subject  of  it,  but  it  is  not  imperceptible  to 
the  observer.  Sanctity  can  never  be  a  secret.  The  holy  life  is 
a  perpetual  evangel,  and  a  perennial  benediction.* 

^  Lady  Westmoreland  thus  writes  of  Jenny  Lind's  singing : 
"  When  the  time  came  for  her  song — I  do  not  know  what  it  was — 
my  mother  used  to  say  it  was  the  most  extraordinary  appearance 
she  ever  remembered.  The  wonderful  notes  came  ringing  out, 
but  over  and  above  that  was  the  wonderful  transfigwration,  no 
other  word  could  apply,  which  came  over  her  entire  face  and 
figure,  lighting  them  up  with  the  whole  fire  and  dignity  of  her 

>  Harold  Begbie.  /«  the  Hand  of  thf.  PotUr,  266.  '  J.  Halaey. 


326  UNCONSCIOUS  GLORY 

genius.  The  effect  on  the  audience  was  simply  marvellous,  and 
to  the  last  day  of  her  life  my  mother  used  to  recall  it  vividly 
and  its  effect  upon  her.  When  she  reached  home  my  father  asked 
her,  '  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Meyerbeer's  wonder  ? '  She 
answered,  '  She  is  simply  an  angel.'  '  Is  she  so  very  handsome  ? ' 
'  I  saw  a  plain  girl  when  I  went  in ;  but  when  she  began  to  sing 
her  face  literally  shone  like  that  of  an  angeL  I  never  sav; 
anything  or  heard  anything  the  least  like  it.' "  ^ 

^  You  have  seen  those  porcelain  transparencies  which,  when 
the  light  is  on  them,  are  only  roughnesses  and  wrinkles,  un- 
meaning ridges  and  deep  dusty  shadows.  But  when  the  light  is 
through  them,  what  a  transformation !  Now,  it  is  some  "  human 
face  divine,"  or  an  exquisite  landscape,  or  a  group  of  lovely 
flowers.  So  there  are  faces  which,  when  the  light  shines  only  on 
them,  are  what  is  called  "plain."  But  when  the  light  shines 
through  them,  it  is  "  as  though  it  had  been  the  fauje  of  an  angel." 

(2)  It  is  a  beauty  which  shines  by  reflection. — Pass  from  the 
nature  of  this  beauty  to  the  secret  of  it.  Once  and  again  this 
phenomenon  of  a  physical  change  is  met  with  in  Scripture,  and 
nowhere  is  it  mentioned  save  in  connexion  with  one  and  the  same 
fact  as  its  reason — immediate  communion  with  God.  Take  the 
case  of  the  Saviour  on  the  Mount.  The  fashion  of  His  counten- 
ance was  altered,  and  His  raiment  became  white  and  glistering, 
till  the  glory  da25zled  the  disciples  above,  and  attracted  the 
multitudes  below.  What  had  His  occupation  been?  He  had 
been  holding  fellowship  with  His  Father  in  prayer.  So,  too,  in 
Gethsemane.  There  was  a  transfiguration  there,  and  a  brightness 
all  over  His  face ;  for  when  He  stepped  from  the  shadow  to  con- 
front the  mob,  the  vision  was  such  that  they  all  reeled  backward, 
and  fell  to  the  ground.  This  was  just  when  He  had  wreetled  with 
God  and  attained,  amid  strong  crying  and  tears,  the  blessing  of  a 
peace  passing  all  understanding.  So,  too,  with  Stephen,  whose 
face  in  the  council  chamber,  and  doubtless  also  in  death,  was  to 
them  that  beheld  as  the  face  of  an  angel.  The  transfiguration 
took  place  while  God  gave  him  grace  to  look  up  and  behold  an 
open  heaven  and  a  waiting  Christ.  And  so  it  was  with  Moses, 
He  attained  this  beauty  by  looking  on  God ;  his  countenance  was 
such  that  the  Children  of  Israel  could  not  steadfastly  behold  it, 
because  it  was  the  reflected   glory  of   God.      The  radiance  had 

» W,  W.  Tullooh.  "  Picture  Point  aufl  Parable,"  in  Sunday  School.,  iii.  807. 


EXODUS  XXXIV.  29  327 

been  caught  by  him  during  the  "  forty  days  and  forty  nights  "  in 
the  lonely  mountain  where  the  Lord  spoke  to  him  "  face  to  face 
as  a  man  speaketh  to  his  friend."  The  secret  of  all  Christian 
shining  is  the  same.  Communion  with  God — that  is  the  source 
it  must  spring  from,  lending  sanctity  to  the  character,  and  beauty 
to  the  very  face.  To  see  God's  face  is  to  shine ;  to  keep  seeing  it 
is  to  keep  shining.  It  is  thus  that  the  marvel  of  the  story  is 
repeated,  and  God's  praying  saints  come  forth  from  this  privacy 
with  their  faces  aglow;  and  the  dying  grow  luminous  on  their 
beds,  till  the  watchers  wonder.  And  where  is  there  brightness 
like  the  brightness  of  heaven?  They  are  all  lustrous  there. 
"Then  shall  the  righteous,"  it  is  said,  "shine  forth  in  their 
heavenly  Father's  kingdom." 

How  lovely  seems  the  sun  to  us, — at  night. 
When  his  soft  light  dawns  on  us  from  the  moon ! 
'Tis  the  sun's  light  and  not  the  moon's,  although 
She  is  so  near,  and  he  has  dropped  from  sight. 
Hast  thou  done  some  good  deed,  and  therefore  now 
A  human  face  smiles  on  thee  through  its  tears, — 
Then  see  there,  too,  the  Godhead's  mediate  face. 
Soft-beaming  as  the  solar-lunar  light.^ 

(3)  It  is  an  tmconsciotis  beauty. — Moses  "wist  not  that  his 
face  shone."  That  is  the  supreme  height  of  spiritual  loveliness : 
to  be  lovely,  and  not  to  know  it.  Surely  this  is  a  lesson  we  all 
need  to  learn.  Virtue  is  so  apt  to  become  self-conscious,  and  thus 
to  lose  its  glow.  Take  the  grace  of  humility.  Humility  is  very 
beautiful  when  we  see  it  unimpaired.  It  is  exquisite  with  the 
loveliness  of  Christ.  But  there  is  a  self-conscious  humility 
which  is  only  a  very  subtle  species  of  pride.  It  is  possible  to 
boast  of  our  humility.  There  are  men  and  women  whose  only 
source  of  pride  appears  to  be  their  modesty.  How  often  we  meet 
with  men  who,  when  requested  to  do  some  service,  immediately 
hoist  the  flag  of  their  humility,  and  declare  that  they  are  of  the 
humble  sort,  and  prefer  to  keep  in  the  shade !  Humility  takes 
the  lowest  place,  and  does  not  know  that  her  face  shines.  Pride 
can  take  the  lowest  place,  and  find  her  delight  in  the  thought  of 
her  presumably  shining  face.     Self -consciousness  always  tends  to 

^  A  Layman's  Breriary. 


328  UNCONSCIOUS  GLORY 

BOUT  humility,  and  pervert  it  into  pride.     "  Moses  wist  not  that 
his  face  shone." 

^  In  all  regions  of  life,  the  consummate  apex  and  crowning 
charm  of  excellence  is  unconsciousness  of  excellence.  Whenever 
a  man  begins  to  suspect  that  he  is  good  he  begins  to  be  bad ;  and 
every  virtue  and  beauty  of  character  is  robbed  of  some  portion 
of  its  attractive  fairness  when  the  man  who  bears  it  knows,  or 
fancies  that  he  knows,  it.  The  charm  of  childhood  is  its  perfect 
unconsciousness,  and  the  man  has  to  win  back  the  child's  heritage, 
and  become  as  a  little  child,  if  he  would  enter  into  and  dwell  in 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  And  so  in  the  loftiest  region  of  all, 
that  of  the  religious  life,  you  may  be  sure  that  the  more  a  man  is 
like  Christ,  the  less  he  knows  it ;  and  the  better  he  is,  the  less 
he  suspects  it.  The  reasons  why  that  is  so  point,  at  the  same 
time,  to  the  ways  by  which  we  may  attain  to  this  blessed  self- 
oblivion.  Let  us,  then,  try  to  lose  ourselves  in  Jesus  Christ.  That 
way  of  self-oblivion  is  emancipation  and  blessedness  and  power.* 

^  We  are  told  in  the  Life  of  Peter  Thompson  of  the  East  London 
Mission  that  a  lady  who  had  worked  most  successfully  for  many 
years  with  him  was  going  to  the  Foreign  Field,  and  it  was  on  the 
paucity  of  results  in  her  work  amongst  East  London  girls  that 
she  turned  her  eyes.  She  was  depressed,  and  as  a  send-ofif  the 
superintendent  suggested  a  supper  for  a  very  large  number  of 
girls  of  the  class  amongst  whom  she  had  moved — a  supper  such 
as  the  one  with  which  she  had  inaugurated  her  work.  He  was 
prepared  to  spend  a  goodly  sum  to  make  the  evening  a  success. 
In  a  week  or  so  she  returned  in  perplexity.  The  number  he  had 
mentioned  of  such  girls  was  not  forthcoming.  He  said  not  a 
word  until  the  worker  realized  the  position.  She,  in  company 
with  others,  had  been  instrumental  in  altering  the  character  of 
that  particular  neighbourhood,  and  slowly  but  with  insistence, 
the  truth  took  hold  of  her  that  her  work  had  not  been  in  vain.' 

The  Man  that  went  the  cloud  within 

Is  gone  and  vanished  quite; 
He  Cometh  not,  the  people  cries, 

Nor  bringeth  God  to  sight: 
Lo  these  thy  gods,  that  safety  give, 

Adore  and  keep  the  feast! 
Deluding  and  deluded  cries 

The  Prophet's  brother-Priest: 
And  Israel  all  bows  down  to  fall 

Before  the  gilded  beast. 

•A.  Maclaren.  '  R.  B.  Thompson,  Peter  Thompson,  135. 


EXODUS  XXXIV.  29  329 

Devout,  indeed !  that  priestly  creed, 

0  Man,  reject  as  sin ; 
The  clouded  hill  attend  thou  still, 

And  him  that  went  within. 
He  yet  shall  bring  some  worthy  thing 

For  waiting  souls  to  see; 
Some  sacred  word  that  he  hath  heard 

Their  light  and  life  shall  be; 
Some  lofty  part,  than  which  the  heart 

Adopt  no  nobler  can, 
Thou  shalt  receive,  thou  shalt  believe, 

And  thou  shalt  do,  0  Man!^ 

i  Clougb,  Foevu,  10. 


The  Continual  Fire. 


LlTERATURB. 

Hanter  (J.),  De  Profundit  Cla/tnnvi,  196. 
Jerdan  (C.)»  Gospel  Milk  und  Honfy,  360. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Morning  by  Morning,  197. 
Welldon  (J.  E.  C),  The  Fire  ujxm  the  Altar,  1. 
Williama  (J.  P.),  77>«  Duty  of  Exerdte,  122. 

Christian   World  Pulpit^  xix.  344  (Spenaley) ;   Iii.   248  (Glover); 
Ixx.  168  (Hunter)  ;  Ixxv.  200  (Body). 


fm 


The  Continual  Fire. 

Fire  shall  be  kept  burning  upon  the  altar  continually ;  it  shall  not  go  out- 
Lev,  vi.  13. 

Ancient  religion  spoke  much  by  emblem  and  symbol  Words 
were  not  its  sole  medium  of  communication  with  men.  Its  faith 
did  not  come  by  hearing  alone.  All  the  senses  were  more  or  less 
employed  as  a  door  of  utterance,  and  observances  and  ceremonies 
appealing  to  the  imagination  were  used  to  awaken  and  direct 
devout  feeling  and  thought.  Its  symbolism  was  no  mere  priestly 
invention  and  device ;  it  sprang  from  and  it  met  a  real  human 
need.    Then,  as  now, 

Words  there  are  none 

For  the  heart's  deepest  things, 

and  hence,  of  course,  ceremony  had  its  natural  and  legitimate 
place  in  the  vocabulary  of  religion  as  of  love.  Then,  as  now,  men 
could  not  live  by  the  prophet'i  message  alone :  the  aspirations  of 
the  soul  could  not  always  be  translated  into  the  dialect  of  the 
understanding;  spiritual  passion  demanded  other  vehicles  of 
expression  than  the  common  forms  of  speech ;  carved  wood  and 
stone,  altar  and  fire  and  sacrifice,  movement  and  music  and  colour, 
were  used  to  speak  the  word  of  God  and  the  soul's  sincere  desire ; 
and  stately  services  made  great  ideas  vivid  and  impressive  in  a 
way  not  otherwise  possible.  Then,  as  now,  things  material  and 
temporal  were  types  of  things  spiritual  and  eternal ;  and  religion 
as  an  institution  was  made  to  develop,  to  quicken  and  nourish 
religion  as  a  life.  Even  the  most  spiritual  and  best  of  ancient 
religions  made  free  use  of  this  symboHc  language  ;  spoke  to  its 
children  in  acted  parables,  and  exhibited  dramatically  the  lessons 
which  it  was  charged  to  convey.  It  loved  to  enact  its  instructions, 
picturing  them  as  upon  a  canvas,  displaying  them  as  upon  a  stage 
from  generation  to  generation. 


334  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

But  man,  the  twofold  creature,  apprehenda 
The  twofold  manner,  in  and  outwardly, 
And  nothing  in  the  world  comes  single  to  him, 
A  mere  itself, — cup,  column,  or  candlestick, 
All  patterns  of  what  shall  be  in  the  Mount; 
The  whole  temporal  show  related  royally, 
And  built  up  to  eteme  significance 
Through  the  open  arms  of  God.^ 

The  ritual  custom  of  which  our  text  speaks  is  one  beautiful 
and  instructive  in  itself,  and  full  of  large  suggestion — long  since 
dead  as  to  the  letter,  but  living  still  as  to  the  spirit.  The  allusion 
is  to  the  altar  of  burnt-offering  in  the  court  of  the  Tabernacle. 
It  was  concerning  this  altar  and  offering  that  the  instruction  was 
given  that  the  fire  should  ever  be  kept  burning  and  not  be 
suffered  to  go  out — an  enactment  well  fitted  to  convey  and  to 
make  clear  and  impressive  the  idea  and  duty  of  maintaining 
without  break  or  interruption  the  worship  and  service  of  the 
living  and  true  God  in  the  life  of  Israel  and  in  the  life  of  every 
Israelite. 

Let  us  ask  three  questions — 

I.  What  is  the  fire  ? 
II.  How  is  it  kindled  ? 
III.  How  is  it  maintained  ? 


What  is  the  Firb? 

Among  some  of  the  ancient  heathen  nations,  fire  was  kept 
constantly  burning  as  a  religious  symbol.  Thus  among  the 
Persians  (and  among  the  Parsees  of  India  to  this  day)  fire  was, 
and  is,  the  visible  representation  of  the  Godhead;  and  the 
continual  burning  of  it  the  emblem  of  eternity.  The  perpetual 
fire  of  Vesta  ("  the  oldest  goddess ")  among  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  was  the  emblem  of  the  inmost,  purest  warmth  of  life 
which  unites  family  and  people — the  hearth,  as  it  were,  the  heart 
of  a  house  or  of  a  State.  But  we  shall  be  led  astray  from  the 
true  significance  of  the  ever-burning  of  the  altar  fire  if  we  fix  our 

'  E.  B.  Browning,  Aurora  Leigh. 


LEVITICUS  VI.  13  335 

attention  chiefly  upon  the  "fire"  itself,  upon  the  fire,  that  is, 
apart  from  the  altar.  If  we  would  get  at  the  real  meaning  of 
this  symbol,  we  must  contemplate  it  in  its  inseparable  connexion 
with  "  the  altar."  It  was  not  mere  "  fire "  that  was  to  be  kept 
perpetually  burning,  but  the  fire  of  "  the  altar  " — "  the  fire  shall 
be  kept  burning  upon  the  altar  continually." 

Consider  the  significance  of  the  various  sacrifices  which  were 
required  to  be  offered  upon  the  altar.  They  consisted  of  three 
kinds,  viz.  sin-offerings,  burnt-offerings,  and  peace-offerings.  The 
first  of  these,  the  "  sin-offering,"  typified  the  death  of  the  offerer 
to  sin  and  self,  through  and  by  means  of  "  the  one  offering  for 
sins  for  ever,"  which  was  to  be  offered  by  Jesus  Christ.  The 
"burnt-offering"  symbolized  the  life  of  the  offerer  dedicated  to 
God ;  just  as  the  fire  wholly  consumed  the  bumt-offering,  so  the 
life  of  the  offerer  was  to  ascend  up  before  God  in  living  consecra- 
tion to  His  will.  And  "  the  peace-offering  "  was  intended  to  set 
forth  the  privilege  which  the  pardoned  and  consecrated  believer 
enjoys  of  fellowship  with  God  and  with  His  people.  May  we  not 
gather  from  this  the  signification  of  the  command,  "  The  fire  shall 
be  kept  burning  upon  the  altar  continually  "  ?  Is  it  not  this — 
viz.  that  what  was  signified  by  the  sacrifices  of  the  altar  was  to 
be  the  unceasing  experience  of  God's  people  ?  In  other  words,  by 
the  fire  being  constantly  kept  burning  upon  the  altar  was  denoted 
the  unceasing,  uninterrupted  character  of  the  spiritual  state  or 
life  which  was  indicated  by  the  sacrifices  of  the  altar. 

1.  The  fire  on  the  altar,  therefore,  denotes  that  inner  life  of 
reverence  and  love,  trust  and  consecration  and  loyalty  towards  God 
which  constitutes  the  religious  spirit  and  creates  the  truly 
religious  character. 

2.  The  fire  on  the  altar  is  not  the  outward  acts  of  devotion, 
but  iJie  spirit  which  expresses  itself  in  these  acts.  By  multitudes 
the  rehgious  life  is  looked  upon  as  consisting  or  made  up  of  a 
series  of  religious  duties  or  acts  of  worship  continually  repeated. 
It  is  thought  that  those  are  undoubtedly  religious  who  are  con- 
scientious in  the  performance  of  the  public  and  private  duties  of 
religion  as  they  recur.  But  this  is  an  utter  misconception  of 
the  true  nature  of  the  religious  life.  We  may  be  most  exact  in 
our  discharge  of   the   external  duties  of  religion  and   yet   be 


336  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

utterly  devoid  of  true  religion  itself.  Were  not  the  Pharisees 
of  our  Lord's  day  as  diligent  as  it  was  possible  to  be  in  all 
these  duties  ?  and  yet,  did  not  our  Lord  say  to  His  disciples,  "  For  I 
say  unto  you  that,  except  your  righteousness  shall  exceed  the 
righteousness  of  the  Scribes  and  of  the  Pharisees  ye  shall  in  no 
case  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven"?  And  so,  too,  the 
apostle  speaks  of  some  whom  he  describes  as  "  having  a  form  of 
godliness  " — a  phrase  which,  of  course,  includes  a  diligent  attention 
to  the  externals  of  religion — but  who,  nevertheless,  "  deny  the 
power  thereof."  No ;  true  religion  consists  not  in  the  inter- 
mittent practice  of  religious  duties,  but  in  the  ceaseless  burning 
of  the  fire  of  devotion  to  the  will  of  God. 

3.  The  fire  on  the  altar  transforms  every  act  and  makes  it  an 
ad  of  devotion.  Just  as  the  sun  shining  upon  the  dark  drops 
of  falling  rain  transforms  them  into  shining  prisms  of  rainbow 
beauty,  so  "the  fire"  of  the  " ever-bm ning "  Christian  life 
renders  everything  done  by  the  Christian  a  spiritual  act,  well- 
pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God.  "  Whatsoever  toucheth  the  altar," 
says  Moses,  "  shall  be  holy."  Even  things  so  common  as  "  bulls 
and  goats,  and  doves  and  flour  and  oil "  became  "  holy  "  by  mere 
contact  with  "the  altar."  And,  in  like  manner,  the  earthly 
duties  of  the  man  who  is  truly  living  to  God  are  rendered  holy ; 
for  "  the  fire  "  of  devotion  to  the  will  of  God  is  "  ever  burning  " 
on  the  altar  of  his  heart.  Charles  Wesley  has  well  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  text  in  his  hymn — 

0  Thou,  who  camest  from  above 

The  pure  celestial  fire  to  impart, 
Kindle  a  flame  of  sacred  love 

On  the  mean  altar  of  my  heart. 

There  let  it  for  Thy  glory  burn 

With  inextinguishable  blaze; 
And  trembling  to  its  source  return 

In  humble  prayer  and  fervent  praise. 

Jesus,  confirm  my  heart's  desire, 

To  work,  and  speak,  and  think  for  Thee, 

Still  let  me  guard  the  holy  fire. 
And  still  stir  up  Thy  gift  in  me. 


LEVITICUS  VI.  13  337 

Ready  for  all  Thy  perfect  will, 
My  acts  of  faith  and  love  repeat; 

Till  death  Thy  endless  mercy  seal, 
And  make  the  sacrifice  complete. 

4  In  what  spheres  of  life  is  the  devotional  spirit  to  be 
manifested  ? 

(1)  In  the  Personal  Life, — In  that  temple  of  God  which  we 
each  are,  upon  the  altar  of  the  personal  heart  and  life,  the  fire 
of  devout  desire  and  afifection  ought  ever  to  be  kept  burning 
and  never  allowed  to  go  out. 

There  is  a  secret  place  of  rest 

God's  saints  alone  may  know; 
Thou  shalt  not  find  it  east  nor  west, 

Though  seeking  to  and  fro. 
A  ceU  where  Jesus  is  the  door, 

His  Love  the  only  key; 
Who  enter  will  go  out  no  more, 

But  there  with  Jesus  be. 

If  thou  hadst  dwelt  within  that  place, 

Then  would  thine  heart  the  while, 
In  vision  of  the  Saviour's  face. 

Forget  all  other  smile; 
Forget  the  charm  earth's  waters  had 

If  once  thy  foot  had  trod 
Beside  the  river  that  makes  glad 

The  city  of  our  God. 

(2)  In  the  Home. — Eeligion  is  necessary  to  the  home.  A 
house  where  we  merely  lodge  and  eat  together  is  not  a  home ; 
and  a  home,  though  it  may  have  all  things  else — love,  friendship, 
comfort,  refinement — does  not  fulfil  its  true  idea  unless  the 
influence  of  real  religion  is  adequately  there.  To  preserve 
family  life  from  decay,  to  give  strength  and  beauty  to  the 
domestic  relations,  to  bind  the  home  together  and  make  its 
circle  a  unit  and  a  source  of  elevating  influence,  nothing  helps 
BO  much  as  simple  and  sincere  devotional  usages  and  habits. 

^  A  worldly  home  cannot  be  a  deeply  united  and  happy  one. 
There  must  be  a  common  life  in  God  and  union  there.  The 
best  we  can  do  for  our  children  is  to  create  in  the  home  an 
atmosphere  that  is  favourable  to  reverence  and  faith.     For  they 

GEN.-NUM. — 22 


338  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

grow,  like  air-plants,  chiefly  by  what  they  absorb  from  the 
atmosphere  around  them.  If  allowed  to  grow  up  in  a  non- 
worshipful  atmosphere  they  will  be  injured  for  life.  Herbert 
Spencer  has  enriched  our  educational  vocabulary  with  the 
phrase  "complete  life,"  and  the  quiet  and  gradual  awakening 
and  culture  of  the  religious  affections  are  as  necessary,  yea, 
more  necessary,  to  the  complete  life  of  our  youths  and  maidens 
than  any  physical  or  mental  training.^ 

^  So  far  as  it  is  a  sacred  place,  a  vestal  temple,  a  temple  ol 
the  hearth  watched  over  by  Household  Gods,  before  whose  faces 
none  may  come  but  those  whom  they  can  receive  with  love, — 
so  far  as  it  is  this,  and  roof  and  fire  are  types  only  of  a  nobler 
shade  and  light, — shade  as  of  the  rock  in  a  weary  land,  and  light 
as  of  the  Pharos  in  the  stormy  sea ; — so  far  it  vindicates  the  name, 
and  fulfils  the  praise,  of  Home.* 

(3)  In  the  Church. — In  that  temple  of  God  which  we  call  the 
Church,  upon  the  altars  of  our  sanctuaries,  the  holy  fire  ought 
ever  to  be  kept  burning  and  never  be  suffered  to  go  out.  We 
shall  not  quarrel  about  words  and  phrases,  and  mistake  form  for 
substance  and  semblance  for  reality,  but  it  is  prayer  and  the 
prayer-spirit  which  make  a  Church  out  of  a  congregation. 
Gatherings  together  to  hear  argument  and  rhetoric,  anecdote  and 
music,  may  be  good  in  their  way,  and  serve  some  useful  purpose, 
but  they  are  not  such  gatherings  together  as  make  one  feel  and 
say,  "  the  Lord  is  in  His  holy  temple." 

^  It  seems  to  me  that  what  we  most  need  in  our  land  and  day 
is  an  order  of  churches  which  unite  great  spirituality  and  deep 
devotional  power  with  pure  and  high  intelligence,  and  can  be 
satisfied  with  naught  but  reality  and  truth ;  Churches  of  the 
Reconciliation,  we  might  call  them,  for  they  would  stand  for  the 
union  of  the  devout  and  fervent  spirit  with  the  open  and 
enlightened  mind,  and  with  the  whole  scope  and  temper  of 
modern  Christian  thought.^ 

IL 

How  IS  THE  FiRK  Kindled? 

1.  Recall  the  circumstances  in  which  the  words  of  the  text 

were   spoken.     The   altar  of   which   the  writer  of   the  Book  of 

Leviticus  speaks  was  the  brazen  altar  that  stood  at  the  door  of 

the  Tabernacle  of  the  congregation.     It  was  there  that  the  aaori- 

'  John  Hunter.  '  Euskin,  Sesame-  artd  Lilies,  187. 


LEVITICUS  VI.  13  339 

fices  were  ofifered  unto  God  by  Israel ;  and  the  sacrifices  were  all 
of  them  of  necessity  consumed  by  fire  that  was  God-kindled 
When  the  Tabernacle  was  completed  and  the  worship  of  God 
begun  in  it,  Moses  and  Aaron  complied  with  every  direction  for 
the  ofifering  of  sacrifice  which  God  had  given  them.  The  wood 
was  laid  upon  the  altar ;  the  body  of  the  victim  was  laid  upon 
the  wood ;  a  cake  of  meal-ojSering  was  laid  upon  the  body  of  the 
victim ;  the  incense  and  the  salt  were  laid  upon  the  cake ;  the 
blood  was  poured  out  about  the  altar ;  and  the  wine  was  mingled 
with  the  blood ;  and  every  direction  that  God  had  given  them 
was  fulfilled.  But  there  the  sacrifice  lay  upon  the  altar  a  dead 
thing ;  and  then  fire  came  down  from  the  Lord,  kindled  the  wood, 
consumed  the  sacrifice,  and  the  offering  came  up  into  the  presence 
of  the  Eternal  through  the  fire  which  He  had  given.  Precisely 
the  same  scene  is  repeated  when  the  Tabernacle  gave  place  to  the 
Temple.  Solomon  again  obeyed  each  of  those  ritual  laws.  And 
then  he  prayed ;  and  it  came  to  pass,  "  when  Solomon  had  made 
an  end  of  praying,  the  fire  came  down  from  heaven,  and  consumed 
the  burnt  offering  and  the  sacrifices."  And  when  the  people  saw 
it  they  said:  "  The  Lord  is  good;  His  mercy  endure th  for  ever." 
It  was  an  old  law  of  Israel  that  no  offering  could  come  up  for 
acceptance  before  God  unless  it  were  burned  with  fire  that  came 
down  from  God. 

2.  Now  this  altar  is  the  altar  of  the  Christian  heart,  and  the 
sacrifice  is  the  offering  of  the  Christian  to  God  in  Christ  to  live 
the  Christian  life,  and  the  power  to  live  the  Christian  life  is,  in 
the  grace  of  God,  through  the  fire  that  God  the  Holy  Ghost 
kindles  in  the  heart. 

Spring  may  come,  but  on  granite  will  grow  no  green  thing; 

It  was  barren  in  winter,  'tis  barren  in  spring; 

And  granite  man's  heart  is,  till  grace  intervene, 

And,  crushing  it,  clothe  the  long  barren  with  green. 

When  the  fresh  breath  of  Jesus  shall  touch  the  heart's  core, 

It  will  live,  it  will  breathe,  it  will  blossom  once  more.^ 

3.  The  fire  is  looked  upon  as  being  the  type  of  what  old 
theologians  called  "  effective  grace."  What  they  meant  by  that 
was  this.    Fire  typifies  grace  when  it  comes  to  act  effectively  upon 

'  Jakluddiu  Kami,  in  Field's  Book  of  Eastern  JFisdom,  67. 


340  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

the  one  who  is  the  subject  of  that  gracious  influence.  There 
comes  the  wonderful  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  grace  of 
regeneration — what  we  call  conversion — becomes  effective  as  the 
one  great  shaping,  living  force  that  acts  within  the  soul  of  the 
believer. 

^  Grace  does  not  altogether  change  nature,  but  uses  it  as  it  finds 
it.  For  instance,  when  a  man  who  is  kind  and  gentle  by  nature 
is  turned  to  the  faith,  like  Nicolas  Hausmann,  grace  makes  him  a 
tender  and  gentle  preacher ;  whilst  of  a  man  naturally  given  to 
anger,  hke  Conrad  Cordatus,  it  makes  an  earnest,  serious  preacher ; 
whilst  if  another  has  a  subtile  and  powerful  understanding,  that 
is  used  for  the  benefit  of  the  people.^ 

4.  Divine  grace  is  well  typified  by  fire.  There  is  nothing  which 
gives  such  an  idea  of  vital  energy  as  fire.  Of  all  forces,  when  you 
think  of  power,  it  is  the  most  powerful.  And  this  fire  of  Divine 
grace  is  kindled  in  the  heart,  and  acts  upon  every  portion  of  it 
It  is  the  Divine  life.  It  comes  like  light  to  the  intellect,  and 
illuminates  it;  it  comes  like  heat  to  the  heart  and  inflames  it; 
it  comes  like  strength  to  the  will  and  energizes  it  and  gives  it 
strength;  it  comes  with  all  its  soothing  influence,  also,  to  the 
conscience,  and  purifies  it  and  gives  it  peace.  And  so  this  Divine 
fire  is  that  in  which  we  live  the  Christian  life.  We  cannot  live 
it  without  it.  No  determination  of  our  natural  will  will  enable 
us  to  live  without  it.  And  we  cannot  manufacture  it ;  if  we  try 
to  do  80,  if  we  try  to  live  our  lives  by  ofifering  sacrifice  to  God, 
like  Nadab  and  Abihu,  with  strange  fire,  it  is  a  powerless,  it  is 
an  unacceptable  thing.  Christian  life  can  be  lived  only  in  the 
energy  of  that  Divine  fire,  that  life  of  God  communicated  to  every 
portion  of  the  inner  spirit,  permeating  it,  influencing  it,  trans- 
figuring it  like  a  flame. 

^  It  is  said  to  be  the  prerogative  of  genius  to  light  its  own 
fire.  But  we  have  not  to  originate  the  flame  of  spiritual  desire 
in  ourselves.  Some  spark  from  the  heavenly  altars  has  reached 
each  one  of  us.  We  describe  ourselves  at  times  as  seekers  after 
God,  but  the  truth  is  we  seek  God  because  He  first  seeks  us.  Our 
upward  yearnings  and  strivings  are  the  answering  movement  of 
our  spirits  to  the  touch  of  His  spirit.  It  is  an  old  tradition  that 
the  fire  which  burned  for  so  many  ages  upon  the  altars  of  Israel 
without  going  out  was  first  conveyed  from  heaven.  The  Divine 
*  Lnther,  WtUchwords  for  the  Wwrfare  of  Life,  364. 


LEVITICUS  VI.  13  341 

aspiration  is  itself  a  Divine  gift.  The  need  of  God  and  the  feeling 
after  Him,  which  are  the  root  and  support  of  all  religious  observ- 
ances, are  not  instructed  into  existence ;  they  are  not  of  human 
invention,  but  of  human  nature — that  deeper  nature  which  is 
begotten,  not  made,  born  not  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the 
will  of  man,  but  of  God.  The  appeal  of  religion  and  of  the 
literature  which  interprets  religion  is  to  the  intuitions  of  the  race. 
We  first  feel  within  us  what  we  discern  to  be  without  us.  The 
recognition  of  God  is  the  soul  unfolding  to  spiritual  realities  and 
relations.  We  call  Jesus,  Lord — confess  Him  to  be  the  Master 
of  the  Divine  life  through  the  awakening  in  ourselves  of  a  kindred 
spirit : — 

Held  our  eyes  no  sunny  sheen. 

How  could  sunshine  e'er  be  seen? 

Dwelt  no  power  Divine  within  us, 

How  could  God's  Divineness  win  us?* 

^  How  much  more  beautiful  and  suggestive  is  the  thought 
of  that  ever-burning  fire  on  the  altar  of  burnt-offering  than  the 
so-called  miracle  of  the  "  Holy  Fire,"  which  is  enacted  annually 
in  our  time  at  Jerusalem !  On  the  eve  of  the  Greek  Easter  Day 
all  the  lamps  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  are  solemnly 
extinguished.  Afterwards,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  a  bright 
flame  suddenly  appears  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Sepulchre,  and  this, 
it  is  said,  has  been  kindled  by  God  Himself.  Then  the  Greek 
Patriarch  lights  a  candle  at  the  "  Holy  Fire  " ;  and  this  candle  is 
passed,  amidst  intense  excitement,  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  of 
pilgrims,  each  of  whom  lights  his  own  taper  at  the  sacred  flame, 
that  he  may  carry  it  with  him  to  his  distant  Eussian  home.^ 

Summe  up  at  night  what  thou  hast  done  by  day, 
And  in  the  morning  what  thou  hast  to  do; 
Dresse  and  undresse  thy  soul;  mark  the  decay 
And  growth  of  it;  if  with  thy  watch  that  too 
Be  down,  then  winde  up  both :  since  we  shall  be 
Most  surely  judg'd,  make  thy  accounts  agree.* 

ni 

How  IS  THE  Fire  Maintained? 

The  fire  on  the  altar  of  Israel,  though  kindled  from  heaven 
had  to  be  kept  constantly  burning  by  natural  and  human  means 

^  John  Hunter.  *  0.  Jerdan. 

■  George  Herbert,  TJu  (^tvrek  Porch,  Izxri 


342  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

The  priests  had  to  lay  wood  on  the  altar  every  morning,  and,  like 
the  vestal  virgins  of  Rome,  to  watch  day  and  night  with  sleepless 
care  lest  the  holy  flame  should  die  out.  It  is  a  parable  of  which 
the  spiritual  experience  of  mankind  writes  large  the  meaning. 
The  religious  sentiment,  which  is  an  essential  element  of  human 
nature,  needs  cultivation  as  certainly  as  the  power  to  think,  or 
the  love  of  the  beautiful,  or  our  affection  for  parents  and  friends. 

1.  The  Removal  of  the  Ashes. — What  had  the  priest  to  do  ? 
First  of  all  he  had  to  go  to  the  altar  every  day,  take  away  the 
ashes  and  carry  them  to  the  place  where  the  sin-offering  was 
burnt  without  the  camp.  Tlie  ashes  were  that  part  of  the  wood 
that  was  laid  upon  the  altar  to  feed  the  fire,  which  is  of  the  earth 
earthy ;  that  which  could  never  mount  up  towards  God,  blending 
with  the  atmosphere,  and  become  an  offering  in  His  presence. 

The  ashes  are  our  sins ;  the  things  that  day  by  day  and  hour 
by  hour  lie  upon  our  consciences ;  the  things  that  we  know  are 
wrong.  And  whatever  we  do  we  must  not  allow  these  sins  to  lie 
upon  our  hearts ;  we  must  get  rid  of  them  regularly,  because,  if 
we  do  not,  just  as  the  accumulating  ashes  would  have  smothered 
the  fire  upon  the  altar,  so  the  accumulating  sin  within  us  will 
destroy  the  Divine  life.  So  we  have  to  go  into  the  inner  temple 
of  our  own  being ;  we  have  to  go  to  the  altar  and  take  away  the 
ashes  ;  find  them  out  by  regular  self-examination. 

^  Our  Christian  life  cannot  go  on  aright  unless,  like  the  priests 
of  old,  at  fixed  and  regular  times  we  go  to  the  altar  of  our  heart, 
and  there  find  out  what  the  ashes  are.  Then  when  we  have  found 
them  out,  let  us  take  them  in  our  hands — take  them  in  the  hands 
of  a  trembling  contrition,  and  be  sure  we  carry  them  to  the  right 
place.  We  cannot  go  wrong  as  to  what  the  right  place  is,  because 
we  have  got  an  interpretation  of  it  given  us  in  the  New  Testament : 
"  The  bodies  of  those  beasts,  whose  blood  is  brought  into  the  holy 
place  by  the  high  priest  as  an  offering  for  sin,  are  burned  without 
the  camp.  Wherefore  Jesus  also,  that  He  might  sanctify  the 
people  through  His  own  blood,  suffered  without  the  gate.  Let  us 
therefore  go  forth  unto  Him  without  the  camp."  Let  us  take 
them  to  Jesus  always ;  kneel  down  at  His  feet ;  confess  our  sins 
to  Him  definitely.  If  we  confess  our  sins — not  sin — if  we  confess 
our  sins  He  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  ua  our  sins  and  to 
cleanse  U8  fi^om  all  unrighteouBuess.^ 

^  Owon  6.  Body. 


LEVITICUS  VI.   13  343 

Take  unto  Thyself,  0  Father, 
'     This  folded  day  of  Thine, 

This  weary  day  of  mine. 
Its  ragged  corners  cut  me  yet, 
0,  still  the  jar  and  fret! 
Father,  do  not  forget 

That  I  am  tired 
With  this  day  of  Thine. 

Breathe  Thy  pure  breath,  watching  Father, 

On  this  marred  day  of  Thine, 

This  erring  day  of  mine ! 
Wash  it  white  of  stain  and  spot! 
O,  cleanse  its  every  blot! 
Eeproachful  Eyes !  remember  not 

That  I  have  grieved  Thee 
On  this  day  of  Thine! 


2.  The  Feeding  vnth  Fuel. — We  have  not  only  to  take  away 
the  ashes,  we  have  also  to  lay  on  wood.  We  must  feed  the  fire. 
What  is  the  fuel  which  God  has  provided  for  the  fire  of  the 
Christian  life?  We  know  the  answer — the  public  and  private 
means  of  grace.  A  diligent  use  of  the  public  ordinances  of 
God's  house  is  necessary  to  the  obtaining  of  fuel  for  the  spiritual 
life.  Under  the  Mosaic  law  the  Sabbath  was  instituted  not  only 
as  a  day  of  rest  from  the  ordinary  work  and  activities  of  life,  but 
also  as  a  day  of  "  holy  convocation  " — a  day  which  furnished  an 
opportunity  of  assembling  for  Divine  worship.  And  the  Christian 
Sabbath  is  in  force  for  the  same  purpose.  "Waiting  upon  the 
Lord"  in  the  public  worship  of  the  sanctuary,  we  "renew  our 
strength,  we  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles;  we  nm  and  are 
not  weary ;  we  walk  and  are  not  faint." 

^  Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  Interpreter  took  Christian 
by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  place  where  was  a  Fire  burning 
against  a  Wall,  and  one  standing  by  it  always,  casting  much 
Water  upon  it  to  quench  it :  yet  did  the  Fire  burn  higher  and 
hotter.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ?  The  Interpreter 
answered.  This  fire  is  the  work  of  Grace  that  is  wrought  in  the 
heart ;  he  that  casts  Water  upon  it,  to  extinguish  and  put  it  out, 
is  the  Devil :  but  in  that  thou  seest  the  fire  notwithstanding  burn 
higher  and  hotter,  thou  shalt  also  see  the  reason  of  that :  So  he 


344  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

had  him  about  to  the  back  side  of  the  Wall,  where  he  saw  a  Man 
with  a  Vessel  of  Oil  in  his  hand,  of  the  which  he  did  also 
continually  cast  (but  secretly,)  into  the  Fire.  Then  said  Christian, 
What  means  this?  The  Interpreter  answered,  This  is  Christ, 
who  continually  with  the  oil  of  his  Grace,  maintains  the  work 
already  begun  in  the  heart;  by  the  means  of  which,  notwith- 
standing what  the  Devil  can  do,  the  souls  of  his  People  prove 
gracious  still.  And  in  that  thou  sawest  that  the  Man  stood 
behind  the  Wall  to  maintain  the  Fire  ;  this  is  to  teach  thee,  that 
it  is  hard  for  the  tempted  to  see  how  this  work  of  Grace  is 
maintained  in  the  souL^ 


More  particularly,  the  fuel  is — 

(1)  Prayer. — Prayer  lies  at  the  very  foundation  of  all 
Christian  vitality.  To  be  a  praying  man  or  woman  is  to  be 
spiritually  living;  to  be  not  praying  is  to  be  spiritually  dead. 
Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath;  and  as,  if  I  would  live 
I  must  breathe,  so,  if  I  would  be  a  Christian  I  must  pray;  or 
if  I  cease  to  pray,  my  spiritual  life  perishes.  It  lies  beneath 
everything.  Without  prayer  the  study  of  God's  Word  is  no  good ; 
without  prayer  worship  in  the  sanctuary  is  no  good;  without 
prayer  work  as  a  teacher  or  district  visitor  is  no  good — not 
spiritually ;  without  prayer  self -communing  is  no  good. 

^  "  It  has  been  the  greatest  error  of  my  life,"  said  a  great 
man  in  his  old  age,  "not  learning  to  avail  myself  as  I  should 
have  done  of  the  help  of  prayer."  And  what  moral  loss  and 
failure  proceed  from  this  neglect !  It  is  an  ethical  as  well  as  a 
religious  mistake.  Superficial  are  we  in  all  our  observation  and 
experience  of  life  if  we  fail  to  see  the  moral  uplift  of  religious 
worship  ;  how  goodness  and  integrity  are  hallowed  and  protected 
by  intense  religious  feeling — regarded  and  cherished  as  part  of 
the  service  we  owe  to  God;  and  how  faith,  instead  of  being  a 
substitute  for  right  living,  is  in  truth  its  supreme  aid  and 
inspiration,  moving  one  to  greater  effort  and  attainment,  and 
preserving  and  nourishing  in  the  soul  those  finer  virtues  and 
graces  which  are  the  flower  and  crown  of  human  character.* 

O  only  Source  of  all  our  light  and  life, 
Whom  as  our  truth,  our  strength,  we  see  and  feel. 

But  whom  the  hours  of  mortal  moral  strife 
Alone  aright  reveal ! 

•  Pilgrim's  Progresi,  Clar.  Press  ed. ,  32.  ■  John  Hunter. 


LEVITICUS  VI.  13  345 

Mine  inmost  soul,  before  Thee  inly  brought, 

Thy  presence  owns  inefifable,  divine; 
Chastised  each  rebel  self-encentered  thought, 

My  will  adoreth  Thine. 

With  eye  down-dropt,  if  then  this  earthly  mind 
Speechless  remain,  or  speechless  e'en  depart; 

Nor  seek  to  see — for  what  of  earthly  kind 
Can  see  Thee  as  Thou  art? — 

If  sure-assured  'tis  but  profanely  bold 

In  thought's  abstractest  forms  to  seem  to  see, 

It  dare  not  dare  the  dread  communion  hold 
In  ways  unworthy  Thee. 

0  not  unowned,  Thou  shalt  unnamed  forgive, 
In  worldly  walks  the  prayerless  heart  prepare; 

And  if  in  work  its  life  it  seem  to  live, 
Shalt  make  that  work  be  prayer. 

Nor  times  shall  lack,  when  while  the  work  it  plies, 
Unsummoned  powers  the  blinding  film  shall  part, 

And  scarce  by  happy  tears  made  dim,  the  eyes 
In  recognition  start. 

As  wills  Thy  will,  or  give  or  e'en  forbear 

The  beatific  supersensual  sight, 
So,  with  Thy  blessing  blest,  that  himibler  prayer 

Approach  Thee  morn  and  night.^ 

^  Many  in  these  days  who  eulogize  the  devotion  of  Jesus  to 
the  service  of  mankind  forget  that  from  the  beginning  to  the 
close  of  His  earthly  ministry  He  drew  strength  for  that  service 
from  communion  with  God.  "I  live  by  the  Father,"  He  once 
said,  and  in  these  words  we  have  the  secret  of  His  life  and  work, 
of  His  unwearying  self-devotion  to  the  cause  of  man  and  God.* 

Forasmuch  as   they   who    love,  and    lean   in    love    upon    His 

breast, 
Reap  the  richer  bliss  of  being,  drink   the  dews  of  a  deeper 

rest, 
Rise  renewed  in  soul   and  sinew,  greeting  life   with  a   keener 

zest, 
I  will  seek  Him. 

>  Cloogh.  *  John  Hunter. 


346  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRL 

^  It  is  told  of  Wilberforce  that  when  an  over-zealous  friend 
asked  him  about  the  state  of  his  soul,  he  replied :  "  I  have  been 
so  busy  thinking  about  poor  slaves  that  I  have  forgotten  that 
I  had  a  soul."  He,  perhaps,  could  afford  to  take  for  a  time  that 
attitude,  for  he  had  stored  up  in  himself  the  results  of  years  of 
severe  spiritual  discipline  and  culture.  But  his  words,  or  words 
like  them,  are  often  used  by  persons  to  justify  philanthropic 
activities  which  leave  little  or  no  leisure  in  their  crowded  days 
for  the  quiet  thought  which  their  needy  souls  require,  and  their 
work  also,  in  order  to  make  it  nobly  fruitful.  The  work  cannot 
be  better  than  the  workman,  and  what  we  accomplish  depends 
ultimately  upon  what  we  are.  To  give  we  must  have;  to  do 
we  must  be. 

If  we  with  earnest  effort  could  succeed 

To  make  our  life  one  long  connected  prayer. 

As  lives  of  some  perhaps  have  been  and  are: 

If  never  leaving  Thee,  we  had  no  need 

Our  wandering  spirits  back  again  to  lead 

Into  Thy  presence,  but  continued  there. 

Like  angels  standing  on  the  highest  stair 

Of  the  sapphire  throne, — this  were  to  pray  indeed. 

But  if  distractions  manifold  prevail, 
And  if  in  this  we  must  confess  we  fail. 
Grant  us  to  keep  at  least  a  prompt  desire, 
Continual  readiness  for  prayer  and  praise, 
An  altar  heaped  and  waiting  to  take  fire 
With  the  least  spark,  and  leap  into  a  blaze.* 

(2)  Study  of  the  Word. — Lay  on,  secondly,  the  fuel  of  the 
Word.  If  you  want  to  see  what  kind  of  wood  that  is,  study 
Psalm  cxix.  It  is  the  Word  of  God  intelligently  read  and  above  all 
meditated  upon :  "  While  I  was  musing,  the  fire  kindled,  and  at 
the  last  I  spoke  with  my  tongue."  And  for  this  reason,  because 
the  Word  of  God  unveils  to  us  Him  who  is  the  incarnate  Word, 
foreshadowed  in  the  law,  foretold  in  the  prophets,  recorded  in  the 
Gospels,  explained  in  the  Epistles.  And  as  we  are  brought  into 
contact  with  our  Lord  there,  as  with  the  study  of  the  Word  we 
grow  in  the  knowledge  of  Him,  the  altogether  lovely  One,  the 
object  of  supreme  desire,  and  while  our  whole  nature  feels  the 
touch  of  the  fire  that  conies  through  the  Word,  our  mind  basks 

>  R.  0.  Trench. 


LEVITICUS  VI.   13  347 

in  the  light,  our  heart  rejoices  in  beauty,  our  conscience  is 
gladdened  with  peace,  and  our  own  will  within  us  consciously 
thrills  beneath  the  touch  of  that  most  blessed  Word. 

%  The  truth  revealed  in  the  Scriptures,  indeed,  is  the 
instrumentality  which  the  Holy  Spirit  employs  for  communication 
of  the  life  of  God  to  the  soul.  "  Of  his  own  will  begat  he  us  by 
the  word  of  truth."  And  by  the  same  instrumentality  is  this 
life  sustained.  The  prayer  of  our  Lord  for  His  disciples  was, 
"  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth ;  thy  word  is  truth."  Hence, 
the  apostolic  exhortation,  "  As  newborn  babes,  desire  the  sincere 
milk  of  the  word,  that  ye  may  grow  thereby." 

H  But  it  is  most  important  to  observe  the  order  here.  The 
order  is  first  prayer,  and  then  the  reading  of  the  Word.  A 
gentleman  was  asked  by  an  artist  friend  of  some  note  to  come  to 
his  home,  and  see  a  painting  just  finished.  He  went  at  the  time 
appointed,  was  shown  by  the  attendant  into  a  room  which  was 
quite  dark,  and  left  there.  He  was  much  surprised,  but  quietly 
waited  developments.  After  perhaps  fifteen  minutes  his  friend 
came  into  the  room  with  a  cordial  greeting,  and  took  him  up  to 
the  studio  to  see  the  painting,  which  was  greatly  admired.  Before 
he  left,  the  artist  said  laughingly,  "  I  suppose  you  thought  it  queer 
to  be  left  in  that  dark  room  so  long."  "  Yes,"  the  visitor  said, 
"  I  did."  "  Well,"  his  friend  replied,  "  I  knew  that  if  you  came 
into  my  studio  with  the  glare  of  the  street  in  year  eyes  you  could 
not  appreciate  the  fine  colouring  of  the  picture.  So  I  left  you  in 
the  dark  room  till  the  glare  had  worn  out  of  your  eyes."  ^ 

(3)  The  Use  of  the  Holy  Eucharist. — There  is  nothing  which 
feeds  the  Divine  fire  within  us  like  receiving  with  penitent  heart 
and  lively  faith  that  gift  which  seems  to  be  the  very  anticipation 
of  heaven  itself,  that  gift  of  our  Lord  as  the  bread  of  life  in  the 
Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 

At  the  Lord's  Table  waiting,  robed  and  stoled, 

Till  all  had  knelt  around,  I  saw  a  sign ! 

In  the  full  chalice  sudden  splendours  shine, 
Azure  and  crimson,  emerald  and  gold. 

I  Btoop'd  to  see  the  wonder,  when,  behold! 
Within  the  cup  a  Countenance  Divine 
Look'd  upwards  at  me  through  the  trembling  wine, 

Suffused  with  tenderest  love  and  grief  untold. 

'  S.  D.  Gordon,  Quiet  Talks  tm  Prayer,  181. 


348  THE  CONTINUAL  FIRE 

The  comfort  of  that  sacramental  token 

From  Memory's  page  Time  never  can  erase; 

The  glass  of  that  rich  window  may  be  broken, 
But  not  the  mirror'd  image  of  His  grace, 

Through  which  my  dying  Lord  to  me  has  spoken, 
At  His  own  Holy  Table,  face  to  face !  ^ 

3.  These  means  must  not  only  be  used  but  they  must  be  used 
habitually,  that  the  fire  may  not  go  out.  To  produce  any  activity 
that  is  meant  to  be  a  continuous  element  in  life  there  must  be  un- 
remitting attention  to  the  conditions  of  its  development  and  use. 
The  masters  of  music  are  always  in  training ;  they  not  only  give 
years  of  laborious  study  to  the  discipline  and  education  of  their 
musical  power  and  taste,  but  after  all  their  preparatory  studies 
they  do  not  neglect  the  daily  practice.  But  with  regard  to  the 
devout  spirit  and  life  we  are  slow,  almost  reluctant,  to  learn  that 
we  must  make  much  of  method  and  habit,  and  that  without 
persistent  fidelity  there  can  be  no  attainment.  We  know  and  are 
persuaded  that  to  attain  any  other  kind  of  excellence,  to  excel  as 
students  of  physical  science,  as  painters,  singers,  pianists,  violinists, 
we  must  give  time  and  thought  to  it,  resolute  purpose  and  steady 
practice;  but  somehow  we  imagine  that  excellence  in  a  life 
infinitely  higher  than  the  scientific  or  artistic  life  does  not  require 
any  such  earnest  and  ceaseless  endeavour ;  that  the  finest  powers 
and  affections  of  our  human  being — the  capacity  of  religious  in- 
spiration, the  power  to  draw  near  unto  God  and  to  enter  into  the 
communion  of  His  Spirit — that  these  powers,  compared  with  which 
genius  in  music  or  painting  or  science  is  but  a  small  thing,  may  be 
preserved  and  nourished  into  strength  and  beauty  without  the 
systematic  care  and  culture  which  other  and  lower  faculties  and 
tastes  and  any  mechanical  or  professional  success  require  and 
demand. 

^  I  shut  myself  up  and  practised  twelve  hours  and  more  a  day, 
until  one  day  my  left  hand  was  swollen  to  about  twice  its  usual 
size,  causing  me  considerable  anxiety.  For  some  months  I  hardly 
ever  left  my  rooms,  and  only  when  I  received  invitations  to  houses 
where  I  knew  I  should  meet,  and  perhaps  hear,  Chopin.' 

*[|  We  often  hear  men  speak  about  the  spirit  of  prayer  as 
being  enough.  Yes !  it  is  enough  ;  but  how  are  we  to  have  and 
to  keep  the  spirit  of  prayer  save  as  we  have  and  keep  the  spirit  of 

^  Frederick  Teanyiion.  *  Lift  m\U  LetUra  of  Sir  Charlet  ffcUld,  32. 


LEVITICUS  VI.   13  349 

knowledge,  the  spirit  of  art,  the  spirit  of  love,  or  the  spirit  of 
anything  else,  save  by  fulfilling  the  conditions  of  having  and 
keeping  it  ?  In  pleading  for  devotional  observances  and  habits,  I 
am  pleading  the  cause  of  the  spirit.  The  men  who  may  be  said 
to  pray  without  ceasing,  who  live  almost  unconsciously  in  an 
atmosphere  spiritual  and  vital,  and  to  whom  God  is  the  Great 
Companion  of  their  days,  are  not  the  men  who  slight  the  habits  of 
prayer ;  and  they — the  men  who  have  mastered  the  art  of  living 
with  God — are  the  only  persons  who  can  speak  with  any  real 
authority  on  this  subject.  One  of  them  says :  "  Evening,  morning, 
and  at  noon  will  I  cry  unto  thee."  Jesus  Christ  was  full  of  the 
spirit  of  prayer,  His  heart  was  a  shrine  of  unceasing  worship,  and 
His  life  was  a  constant  walk  with  God;  yet  even  He  felt  the 
need  of  method  and  habit,  and  obeyed  the  law  which  moves  the 
devout  soul  to  seek  occasions  of  formal  and  concrete  expression  of 
its  spiritual  passion.  He  who  lived  in  unbroken  conmiunion  of 
spirit  with  His  Father  would  yet  spend  whole  nights  in  prayer, 
and  make  it  His  custom  to  go  into  the  synagogue  every  Sabbath 
day.^ 

^  Without  uncharitableness,  it  may  be  said  that  much  of  our 
scepticism  and  unbelief  is  simply  the  scepticism  of  neglected 
souls  and  the  unbelief  of  world-worn  hearts.  It  is  often  remarked 
that,  in  our  distracted  and  overcrowded  life,  it  requires  much 
efifort  to  keep  our  friendships  with  one  another.  But  think  you  it 
requires  less  effort  to  keep  up  our  sense  of  intimacy  with  God,  to 
know  Him  with  that  knowledge  which  is  Eternal  Life,  to  gain 
insight  into  His  ways,  to  love  Him,  and  to  enjoy  what  the 
Benediction  calls  "  the  communion  of  the  Holy  Spirit "  ?  Many 
of  us,  alas !  do  not  take  time  to  believe  in  God.  By  our  unresting 
action  in  earthly  affairs,  by  our  neglect  of  meditation  and  prayer, 
we  build  up  around  ourselves  the  very  conditions  of  unbelief,  and 
thus  the  sense  of  God  fades  out  of  our  hearts,  and  all  vital 
recognition  of  God  disappears  from  our  lives.  We  cease  to  tend 
and  feed  the  altar-fires,  and  in  some  hour  of  critical  trial  we  wake 
up  to  the  fact  that  the  very  capacity  for  receiving  religious 
inspiration  and  religious  comfort  has  almost  perished,  and  we  are 
ready  to  take  up  the  moan  of  the  dying  Paracelsus  in  Bobert 
Browning's  poem — 

Love,  hope,  fear,  faith — these  make  humanity; 

These  are  its  sign  and  note  and  character, 

And  these  I  have  lost!  gone,  shut  from  me  for  ever. 

*  John  Hunter, 


The  Scapegoat. 


35» 


Literature. 

Aitken  (W.  H.  M.  H.),  Miuion  Serinons,  iii.  267. 

Driver  (S.  R.),  in  the  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  i.  207. 

Edcrsheim  (A.),  The  Temple,  302. 

Frazer  (J.  G.),  The  Golden  Bough,  iii  93. 

Maclaren  (A.),  Expositions  :  Exodus,  Leviticus,  and  Numbers,  264. 

Nestle  (Eb.),  in  the  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  ii.  282. 

Schechter  (S.),  Some  Aspects  of  Rabbinic  Theology,  301. 

Selby  (T.  G.),  The  God  of  the  Patriarchs,  221. 

Thomas  (JS.  W.),  in  Folk-Ion,  xriL  26a 


The  Scapegoat. 

The  goat  shall  bear  upon  him  all  their  iniquities  unto  a  solitary  land.— 
Lev.  zvi.  22. 


The  Day  of  Atonement. 

This  is  part  of  the  ritual  of  the  Day  of  Atonement.  Now  the 
Day  of  Atonement  represents  the  culminating  institution  of  the 
Levitical  system.  Not  only,  from  a  merely  formal  point  of  view, 
does  Lev.  xvi.  form  the  climax  of  the  sacrificial  and  purificatory 
ordinances  contained  in  Lev.  i-xv.,  but  the  ceremonial  itself  is  of 
a  peculiarly  comprehensive  and  representative  character.  It  was 
a  yearly  atonement  for  the  nation  as  a  whole  (including  the 
priests) ;  and  not  only  for  the  nation,  but  also  for  the  sanctuary, 
in  its  various  parts,  in  so  far  as  this  had  been  defiled  during  the 
past  year  by  the  sins  of  the  people  in  whose  midst  it  stood. 

^  In  Kabbinical  literature  the  Day  of  Atonement  becomes 
practically  the  great  Day  of  Eepentance,  the  culmination  of  the 
Ten  Days  of  Eepentance.  It  brings  with  itself  purification,  the 
Father  in  Heaven  making  white  the  sin  committed  by  the  son, 
by  His  forgiveness  and  pardon.  "  It  is  the  Day  of  the  Lord,  great 
and  very  terrible,"  inasmuch  as  it  becomes  a  day  of  judgment,  but 
also  the  Day  of  Salvation.  "  Israel  is  steeped  in  sin  through  the 
Uvil  Yezer  in  their  body,  but  they  do  repentance  and  the  Lord 
forgives  their  sins  every  year,  and  renews  their  heart  to  fear  Him." 
"  On  the  Day  of  Atonement  I  will  create  you  a  new  creation." 
It  is  thus  a  penitential  day  in  the  full  and  in  the  best  sense  of 
the  word.* 

^  The  Talmudical  treatise  on  the  ritual  of  the  Day  of 
Atonement  is  entitled  Yoma,  "the  d&j"  which  sufficiently 
expresses  its  importance  in  the  series  of  sacrificial  observances. 
It  was  the  confession  of  the  incompleteness  of  them  all,  a  cere- 
monial proclamation  that  ceremonies  do  not  avail  to  take  away 

'  S.  Schechter. 
GEN.-NUM. — 23 


354  THE  SCAPEGOAT 

sin ;  and  it  was  also  a  declaration  that  the  true  end  of  worship 
is  not  reached  till  the  worshipper  has  free  access  to  the  holy  place 
of  the  Most  High.  Thus  the  prophetic  element  is  the  very  life- 
breath  of  this  supreme  institution  of  the  old  covenant,  which 
therein  acknowledges  its  own  defects,  and  feeds  the  hopes  of  a 
future  better  thing.^ 

H 

Thb  Two  Goats. 

1.  On  this  day  the  CongregatioA  of  Israel  brought  two  goats 
for  the  purpose  of  atonement.  For  these,  lots  were  cast  at  the 
door  of  the  sanctuary,  "  one  lot  for  Jehovah,  and  the  other  lot  for 
Azazel."  The  one  on  which  the  lot  of  Jehovah  fell  was  then 
slain  as  a  sin-offering.  The  other  was  brought  before  God  "to 
make  atonement  over  it,  to  send  it  away  for  Azazel  into  the 
wilderness."  Then,  after  the  sins  of  the  congregation  had  been 
confessed,  this  animal  was  made  the  bearer  of  all  the  sins  of  the 
now  reconciled  Israel,  and  was  led  away  into  the  wilderness  and 
there  let  loose  "  in  a  solitary  land." 

^  Most  solemn  as  the  services  had  hitherto  been,  the 
worshippers  would  chiefly  think  with  awe  of  the  high-priest 
going  into  the  immediate  presence  of  God,  coming  out  thence 
alive,  and  securing  for  them  by  the  blood  the  continuance  of  the 
Old  Testament  privileges  of  sacrifices  and  of  access  unto  God 
through  them.  What  now  took  place  concerned  them,  if  possible, 
even  more  nearly.  Their  own  personal  guilt  and  sins  were  now 
to  be  removed  from  them,  and  that  in  a  symboUcal  rite,  at  one 
and  the  same  time  the  most  mysterious  and  the  most  significant 
of  all.  All  this  while  the  "  scapegoat,"  with  the  "  scarlet-tongue," 
telling  of  the  guilt  it  was  to  bear,  had  stood  looking  eastwards, 
confronting  the  people,  and  waiting  for  the  terrible  load  which 
it  was  to  carry  away  "  unto  a  land  not  inhabited."  Laying  both 
his  hands  on  the  head  of  this  goat,  the  high-priest  now  confessed 
and  pleaded :  "  Ah,  Jehovah !  they  have  committed  iniquity ;  they 
have  transgressed ;  they  have  sinned — Thy  people,  the  house  of 
Israel.  Oh,  then,  Jehovah !  cover  over  (atone  for),  I  intreat 
Thee,  upon  their  iniquities,  their  transgressions,  and  their  sins, 
which  they  have  wickedly  committed,  transgressed,  and  sinned 
before  Thee — Thy  people,  the  house  of  Israel.  As  it  is  written  in 
the  law  of  Moses,  Thy  servant,  saying :  "  For  on  that  day  shall  it 

^  A.  Maclaren. 


LEVITICUS  XVI.  22  355 

be  covered  over  (atoned)  for  you,  to  make  you  clean  ;  from  all 
your  sins  before  Jehovah,  ye  shall  be  cleansed."     And  while  the 
prostrate  multitude  worshipped  at  the  name  of  Jehovah,  the  high- 
priest  turned  his  face  towards  them  as  he  uttered  the  last  words, 
"  Ye  shall  be  cleansed ! "  as  if  to  declare  to  them  the  absolution 
and  remission  of   their   sins.     Then   a  strange   scene  would   be 
witnessed.     The  priests  led  the  sin-burdened  goat  out  through 
"  Solomon's  Porch,"  and,  as  tradition  has  it,  through  the  eastern 
gate,  which  opened  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives.     Here  an  arched 
bridge  spanned  the  intervening  valley,  and  over  it  they  brought 
the  goat  to  the  Moimt  of  Olives,  where  one,  specially  appointed 
for  the  purpose,  took  him  in  charge.     Tradition  enjoins  that  he 
should  be  a  stranger,  a  non-Israelite,  as  if  to  make  still  more 
striking  the  type  of  Him  who  was  delivered  over  by  Israel  unto 
the  Gentiles.    Scripture  tells  us  no  more  of  the  destiny  of  the 
goat  that  bore  upon  him  all  the  iniquities  of  the  children  of  Israel, 
than  that  they  "  shall  send  him  away  by  the  hand  of  a  fit  man 
into  the  wilderness,"  and   that  "  he   shall  let   go   the   goat  in 
the   wilderness."      But   tradition  supplements   this  information. 
The   distance    between  Jerusalem   and   the   beginning  of   "the 
wilderness "  is  computed  at  ninety  stadia,  making  precisely  ten 
intervals,  each  half  a  Sabbath-day's  journey  from  the  other.     At 
the  end  of  each  of  these  intervals  there  was  a  station,  occupied 
by  one  or  more  persons,  detailed  for  the  purpose,  who  ofifered 
refreshment  to  the  man  leading  the  goat,  and  then  accompanied 
him  to  the  next  station.     By  this  arrangement  two  results  were 
secured :  some  trusted  persons  accompanied  the  goat  all  along  his 
journey,  and  yet  none  of  them  walked  more  than  a  Sabbath-day's 
journey — that  is,  half  a  journey  going  and  the  other  half  re- 
turning.   At  last  they  reached  the  edge  of  the  wilderness.     Here 
they  halted,  viewing  afar  off,  while  the  man  led  forth  the  goat, 
tore  off  half  the  "scarlet-tongue,"  and  stuck  it  on  a  projecting 
cliff;  then,  leading  the  animal  backwards,  he  pushed  it  over  the 
projecting  ledge  of  rock.    There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  the 
man,  now  defiled  by  contact  with  the  sin-bearer,  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  last  of  the  ten  stations,  where  he  spent  the  rest  of  the 
day  and  the  night.     But  the  arrival  of  the  goat  in  the  wilderness 
was  immediately  telegraphed,  by  the  waving  of  flags,  from  station 
to  station,  till,  a  few  minutes  after  its  occurrence,  it  was  known 
in  the  Temple,  and  whispered  from  ear  to  ear,  that  "  the  goat  had 
borne  upon  him  all  their  iniquities  into  a  land  not  inhabited."  ^ 

2.  What,  then,  was  the  meaning   of  a  rite  on  which  such 
momentous  issues  depended  ?     Everything  about  it  seems  strange 
*  Edersheim,  The  Temple,  817. 


356  THE  SCAPEGOAT 

and  mysterious — the  lot  that  designated  it,  and  that  "  to  Azazel " , 
the  fact  that,  though  the  highest  of  all  sin-offerings,  it  was  neither 
sacrificed  nor  its  blood  sprinkled  in  the  Temple;  and  the 
circumstance  that  it  really  was  only  part  of  a  sacrifice — the 
two  goats  together  forming  one  sacrifice,  one  of  them  being  killed, 
and  the  other  "  let  go,"  there  being  no  other  analogous  case  of  the 
kind  except  at  the  purification  of  a  leper,  when  one  bird  was 
killed,  and  the  other  dipped  in  its  blood,  and  let  go  free.  For  the 
common  worshipper,  then,  the  broad  impression  of  this  Day  of 
Atonement  was  that  the  sins  of  the  people  were  not  only  atoned 
for  by  the  death  of  a  victim,  but  separated  from  them  and 
banished  to  forgetfulness  through  the  same  offering  in  another 
phase.  While  in  the  typical  sacrifice  this  could  be  effected  only 
by  means  of  two  victims,  in  the  eternal  reality  to  which  it  pointed 
the  one  Saviour  who  died  and  rose  again  becomes  at  once  the 
atoning  Sacrifice  and  the  risen  Sanctifier  by  whom  our  sin  is 
removed. 

^  These  two  goats  were  not  for  Aaron,  but  for  the  people. 
We  must  regard  them  as  if  they  were  but  one  offering,  for  it 
needed  both  of  them  to  set  forth  the  divine  plan  by  which  sin  ia 
put  away ;  one  was  to  die,  and  the  other  was  typically  to  bear 
away  the  sins  of  the  people.  One  goat  was  to  show  how  sin  is 
put  away  in  reference  to  God  by  sacrifice,  and  the  other  goat  was 
to  show  how  it  is  put  away  in  reference  to  us,  God's  people,  by 
being  carried  into  oblivion.^ 

^  Man  hath  not  done  anything  on  the  day  of  sacrifice  more 
pleasing  to  God  than  spilling  blood;  for  verily  the  animal 
sacrificed  will  come  on  the  day  of  resurrection  with  its  horns,  its 
hair,  its  hoofs,  and  will  make  the  scale  of  his  good  actions  heavy ; 
and  verily  its  blood  reacheth  the  acceptance  of  God,  before  it 
falleth  upon  the  ground :  therefore  be  joyful  in  it.' 

IIL 

Fob  Azazel. 

1.  Of  the  two  goats  it  is  stated  (xvi.  8)  that  the  one  was  "  for 
Jehovah,"  the  other  "  for  Azazel "  (K.V. ;  the  A.V.  uses  here  the 
word  "  scapegoat ").  "  Azazel "  is  not  mentioned  elsewhere  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  its  meaning  is  much  disputed.  In  the 
apocryphal  Book  of  Enoch,  Azazel  is  a  spirit,  the  leader  of  the 

'  0.  H.  Sptirgeua.  '  S»ying  of  llubammad. 


LEVITICUS  XVI.  22  357 

evil  angels  who  formed  unholy  alliances  with  the  "  daughters  of 
men "  (Gen.  vi  2,  4).  But  whatever  the  precise  attributes  with 
which  Azazel  was  invested  at  the  time  when  the  ritual  of  Lev.  xvi. 
was  framed,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  ceremonial  was 
intended  as  a  symbolical  declaration  that  the  land  and  people  are 
now  purged  from  guilt,  their  sins  being  handed  over  to  the  evil 
spirit  to  whom  they  are  held  to  belong,  and  whose  home  is  in 
the  desolate  wilderness,  remote  from  human  habitations  (verse  22, 
"into  a  land  cut  off").  No  doubt  the  rite  is  a  survival  from  an 
older  stage  of  popular  belief,  engrafted  on,  and  accommodated  to, 
the  sacrificial  system  of  the  Hebrews.  For  the  expulsion  of  evils, 
whether  maladies  or  sins,  from  a  community,  by  their  being  laid 
symbolically  upon  a  material  medium,  there  are  many  analogies 
in  other  countries.  The  belief  in  goblins,  or  demons  (Jinn), 
haunting  the  wilderness  and  vexing  the  traveller,  is  particidarly 
common  in  Arabia :  in  the  Old  Testament  it  is  found  in  Lev.  xvii. 
7 ;  Isa.  xiii.  21,  xxxiv.  14  ("  satyrs,"  lit.  he-goats,  and  Lilith,  the 
night-monster).  Azazel  must  have  been  such  a  spirit,  sufficiantly 
distinguished  from  the  rest,  in  popular  imagination,  to  receive  a 
special  name,  and  no  doubt  invested  with  attributes  which, 
though  unknown  to  us,  were  perfectly  familiar  to  those  for  whom 
the  ceremonial  of  Lev.  xvi.  was  first  designed. 

^  The  rendering  of  the  A.V.,  "  scapegoat,"  inherited  from  the 
"  Great  Bible  "  of  1539,  may  be  traced  back  through  Seb.  Miinster 
("  caper  abiturus  "),  Coverdale  ("  the  free  goat "),  Luther  ("  der 
ledige  Bock "),  and  Jerome  ("  caper  emissarius ")  to  the  Greek 
translation  of  Symmachus ;  but  it  implies  a  derivation  opposed  to 
the  genius  of  the  Hebrew  language,  besides  being  inconsistent  with 
the  marked  antithesis  between  "  for  Azazel "  and  "  for  Jehovah," 
which  does  not  leave  it  open  to  doubt  that  the  former  is  conceived 
as  a  personal  being,  to  whom  (cf.  verse  26)  the  goat  is  sent.  All 
the  principal  modern  authorities  agree  in  explaining  Azazel  as 
a  personal  name.  "  Scapegoat "  is,  however,  a  felicitous  expression ; 
it  has  become  classical  in  English  ;  and  there  is  no  reason  why  it 
should  not  be  retained  as  a  term  descriptive  of  the  goat  sent  into 
the  wilderness,  provided  it  be  clearly  understood  that  it  is  in  no 
way  a  rendering  of  the  Hebrew.^ 

2.  The  Jewish  rite  presents  marks  of  strong  kinship  with 
similar  rites  which  are  still  observed  in  every  part  of  the  world 

'  8.  R,  DriT»r. 


358  THE  SCAPEGOAT 

It  was  originally  a  rite  of  exorcism,  and  was  modified  into  an 
object-parable  of  those  great  ethical  lessons  which  God  wished  to 
impress  upon  the  conscience  of  the  chosen  people,  and  in  due 
time  upon  the  human  race.  On  the  four  great  continents,  and 
in  many  islands  of  the  sea,  it  is  carried  out,  with  the  variations 
due  to  local  conditions,  at  fixed  seasons  of  the  year,  or  in  times 
of  epidemic.  In  some  form  or  other  it  must  have  been  in  vogue 
before  the  dispersion  of  the  primitive  races,  or  at  least  have  been 
suggested  by  ideas  common  to  mankind  in  the  cradle-lands  of 
the  prehistoric  dawn.  It  was  practised  amongst  unlettered  and 
classical  races  alike,  and  in  some  parts  of  Europe  variant  types  of 
the  ceremony  have  survived  the  spread  of  the  Christian  faith. 

^  In  some  of  the  islands  of  South-Eastern  Asia  the  ceremony 
is  found  in  one  of  its  most  elementary  forms.  The  custom  has, 
of  course,  adapted  itself  to  conditions  where  domestic  animals  are 
unknown  and  the  inland  areas  present  no  deserts  into  which  a 
scape-victim  bearing  the  iUs  of  the  people  could  be  dismissed. 
A  ship  is  prepared  on  board  which  rice,  eggs,  and  tobacco  are 
placed,  whilst  a  priest  cries  out:  "All  ye  sicknesses,  measles, 
agues,  depart ! "  The  ship  is  carried  down  to  the  shore,  launched 
when  a  breeze  begins  to  blow  from  off  the  land,  and  left  to  drift 
out  to  sea.  The  priest  then  cries  out,  "All  the  sicknesses  are 
gone ! "  and  the  people  who  had  shut  themselves  up  in  their 
homes  through  fear  come  forth  again  with  a  sense  of  relief.  In 
the  inland  parts  of  the  island  the  priests  brush  the  people  with 
branches  of  trees  which  are  supposed  to  gather  up  all  the  evil 
influences  that  cleave  to  their  bodies,  and  then  throw  the  infected 
branches  into  the  river  to  be  carried  out  to  sea.^ 

^  A  tribe  of  American  Indians  make  white  dogs  their  scape- 
victims,  and  drive  them  ofif  into  the  prairie,  whilst  another  tribe 
paint  a  man  black  to  represent  a  demon  and  at  last  chase 
him  from  the  village.  A  similar  custom  prevails  amongst  the 
aborigines  of  the  Chinese  Highlands.  In  times  of  epidemic  a 
man  is  chosen  for  the  victim,  his  face  is  smeared  with  paint,  and 
with  curses  and  tomtoms  he  is  then  driven  forth  from  the  hamlet 
and  forbidden  to  return.^ 

3.  The  Jewish  religion  took  hold  upon  a  truth  in  this  crude 
observance  common  to  all  races,  and  taught  the  multitude  to  look 
for  release  from  sin  by  one  who  should  be  made  sin  for  them.  In 
the  prefigurative  ceremony  the  burden  of  the  assembly's  sin  was 

» T.  O.  8«lby. 


LEVITICUS  XVI.  22  359 

transferred  to  a  pair  of  victims,  one  of  which  was  slain  at  the 
altar  where  its  life  was  offered  to  an  offended  God,  whilst  the 
other  was  driven  forth  into  the  wilderness,  carrying  into  inac- 
cessible places  the  burden  placed  upon  it  The  principle  needed 
fine  definitions  and  careful  safeguards  in  the  after-ages,  but  it 
expressed  a  rough  and  enduring  truth  without  which  social  and 
religious  life  are  alike  impossible.  The  vicarious  principle  is  not 
ordained  to  compromise  or  destroy  responsibility,  but  the  denial 
of  its  presence  and  working,  within  divinely  appointed  limits, 
involves  the  denial  of  that  providential  order  under  which  man- 
kind is  placed. 

^  But  how  is  the  modem  world  to  be  taught  the  vicarious 
principle  when  it  has  so  little  knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  sin  ? 
No  doubt  ignorance  of  the  nature  of  sin  is  largely  due  to  ignorance 
of  the  Bible.  Holman  Hunt  tells  us  his  experience  of  this  double 
ignorance  when  he  returned  from  Palestine  with  his  great  picture, 
"  The  Scapegoat." 

Mr.  Gambart,  the  picture-dealer,  was  ever  shrewd  and  enter- 
taining. He  came  in  his  turn  to  my  studio,  and  I  led  him  to 
"  The  Scapegoat." 

"  What  do  you  call  that  ? " 

"'The  Scapegoat.'" 

"  Yes ;  but  what  is  it  doing  ?  " 

"  You  will  understand  by  the  title,  Le  houc  errarU." 

"  But  why  errant  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  there  is  a  book  called  the  Bible,  which  gives  an  account 
of  the  animal     You  will  remember." 

"  No,"  he  replied ;  "  I  never  heard  of  it." 

"  Ah,  I  forgot,  the  book  is  not  known  in  France,  but  English 
people  read  it  more  or  less,"  I  said,  "  and  they  would  all  under- 
stand the  story  of  the  beast  being  driven  into  the  wilderness." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  No  one  would  know  anything  about  it, 
and  if  I  bought  the  picture  it  would  be  left  on  my  hands.  Now, 
we  will  see,"  replied  the  dealer.  "  My  wife  is  an  English  lady ; 
there  is  a  friend  of  hers,  an  English  girl,  in  the  carriage  with  her. 
We  will  ask  them  up ;  you  shall  tell  them  the  title  ;  we  will  see. 
Do  not  say  more." 

The  ladies  were  conducted  into  the  room. 

"  Oh,  how  pretty !  what  is  it  ? "  they  asked. 

«  It  is  '  The  Scapegoat,' "  I  said. 

There  was  a  pause.  "Oh  yes,"  they  commented  to  one 
another,  "it  is  a  peculiar  goat;  you  can  see  by  the  ears,  they 
droop  80." 


36o  THE  SCAPEGOAT 

The  dealer  then,  nodding  with  a  smile  towards  me,  said  to 
them,  "  It  is  in  the  wilderness." 

The  ladies :  "  Is  that  the  wilderness  now  ?  Are  you  intend- 
ing to  introduce  any  others  of  the  flock  ? "  And  so  the  dealer  was 
proved  to  be  right,  and  I  had  over-counted  on  the  picture's 
intelligibility.^ 

4.  This  rite  also  provided  a  form  of  absolution  which  comforted 
the  conscience-stricken  Israelite,  and  gave  fresh  courage  to  his 
souL  It  addressed  itself  to  the  imagination,  and  accomplished 
this  specific  end  in  a  more  vivid  and  impressive  way  than  the 
common  sacrifices  of  the  tabernacle.  This  action-parable,  in 
which  perhaps  there  was  much  of  condescension  to  the  super- 
stition of  the  age,  helped  men  to  feel  that  the  load  of  guilt  was 
gone,  that  clouds  of  gathering  wrath  had  been  dispersed,  and  that 
the  sky  from  which  God  looked  down  was  fair  and  smiling  once 
more.  In  many  places  where  similar  rites  were  observed,  the 
people  crouched  with  fear  in  their  houses,  and  some  trace  of  this 
feature  of  the  custom  appears  in  the  Book  of  Leviticus,  which 
forbade  the  people  entering  into  the  tabernacle  whilst  the  goat 
for  sacrifice  was  being  offered.  When  the  rite  had  been  ac- 
compHshed,  men  and  women  breathed  freely  once  more,  as  though 
the  world  were  no  longer  a  place  of  penalty  and  a  prison-house. 
The  sense  of  fear  was  dispelled  from  the  heart  as  the  dim  figure 
of  the  man  leading  the  scapegoat  disappeared  over  the  tops  of 
the  hills,  and  no  news  of  the  year  was  received  with  greater 
gladness  than  the  word  signalled  back  to  the  city  that  the  victim 
with  its  burden  had  passed  into  the  waste  wilderness.  The  rite 
was  obviously  adopted  to  keep  alive  the  expectation  of  a  time 
when  evil  should  be  cast  forth  into  the  desolate  spaces  of  the 
Universe,  and  the  last  trace  of  sin  and  its  curse  should  be  taken 
away  from  the  city  and  the  people  of  God.  The  ceremony  was 
surely  a  prophecy  in  symbol  of  the  true  Day  of  Atonement,  when 
the  Man  of  God's  choice  should  carry  the  burdens  of  the  race  into 
the  land  of  forgetfulness  and  gracious  oblivion. 

^  No  sins  are  reckoned  against  us  by  God ;  on  His  side  they 
are  all  put  away — in  relation  to  Him  they  have  no  existence. 
Hence  our  Lord  says  (Matt.  ix.  2) :  "  Son,  be  of  good  cheer,  thy 
sins  have  been  done  away."  "  Son  " — for  He  is  speaking  to  him  as 
to  a  child  of  God,  and  tells  him,  without  any  solicitation  on  his 

*  W.  Holman  Huat,  Pre- Raphaelitism  and  the  Pte-BaphMlite  Brotherhood,  ii.  107. 


LEVITICUS  XVI.  22  361 

part,  an  eternal  fact,  viz. — that  his  sins  have  no  existence  as  in 
the  mind  or  eye  of  God.  The  same  truth  is  expressed  in  the 
parable  of  the  prodigal  son — there  is  no  reckoning  of  sin  against 
the  prodigal  on  the  father's  side.^ 

Best,  weary  heart! 

The  penalty  is  borne,  the  ransom  paid, 

For  all  thy  sins  full  satisfaction  made ! 

Strive  not  to  do  thyself  what  Christ  has  done. 
Claim  the  free  gift,  and  make  the  joy  thine  own; 

No  more  by  pangs  of  guilt  and  fear  distrest, 
Best !  calmly  rest ! 


IV. 

Sacrifice  and  Sepakation. 

Once  a  year  the  sins  of  the  people  were  thus  solemnly  atoned 
for,  and  the  nation's  lost  holiness  was  restored  (verse  30,  "  to  cleanse 
you :  from  all  your  sins  shall  ye  be  clean  before  Jehovah  ").  The 
slain  goat  made  atonement  for  the  people's  sins,  and  restored  their 
peace  and  fellowship  with  God ;  the  goat  over  which  the  people's 
sins  were  confessed,  and  which  was  afterwards  sent  away  to 
Azazel  in  the  wilderness,  symbolized  visibly  their  complete  re- 
moval from  the  nation's  midst  (Ps.  ciii.  12 ;  Mic.  vii.  19) :  a  life 
was  given  up  for  the  altar,  and  yet  a  living  being  survived  to 
carry  away  all  sin  and  imcleanness :  the  entire  ceremonial  thus 
symbolized  as  completely  as  possible  both  the  atonement  for  sin 
and  the  entire  removal  of  the  cause  of  God's  alienation. 

1.  Sacrifice. — No  specific  mention  is  made  of  this  rite  in  the 
subsequent  books  of  the  Bible,  but  it  probably  coloured  the 
language  of  the  prophet  as  he  portrayed  the  Suffering  Servant  of 
Jehovah,  who  was  despised  and  rejected,  and  from  whom  men  hid 
their  faces.  The  iniquity  of  the  erring  flock  laid  by  a  Divine 
hand  upon  His  sacred  person  suggests  the  picture  of  the  high 
priest  transferring  the  common  sin  to  the  scape-victim  by  words 
of  confession  and  the  laying  on  of  his  hands.  When  the  writer 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  asserts  that  it  is  not  possible  for 
"the  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats  to  take  away  sin,"  he  perhaps  has 
'  H.  W.  Corbet,  Letters  from  a  Mystic  of  the  Present  Day,  71. 


362  THE  SCAPEGOAT 

in  view  at  the  moment  the  offerings  of  the  great  Day  of  Atone- 
ment. This  rite  of  course  is  included  without  express  mention  in 
the  statement  that  the  meaning  of  all  sacrifice  is  consummated 
and  fulfilled  in  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ.  Our  Lord  gathers  up 
into  His  ministry  and  death  the  peculiar  lines  of  thought 
indicated  in  this  ceremony.  In  setting  Himself  to  deal  with  the 
problem  of  suffering  by  first  of  all  attacking  the  problem  of  sin, 
Jesus  was  bringing  home  to  the  multitude  the  fundamental  lesson 
of  this  ancient  ritual. 

2.  Separation. — We  can  almost  see  the  figure  of  the  scape- 
NQctim,  looming  through  the  shadows  of  the  night,  as  Matthew 
describes  the  great  healer  casting  out  devils  when  the  sick  were 
brought  to  His  feet  in  the  Sabbath  twilight.  The  evangelist 
seems  to  see  the  sicknesses  He  healed  transferred  to  His  weary 
form,  and  weighting  His  sympathetic  soul,  and  sums  up  the 
picture  in  the  memorable  words  of  the  prophet,  "Himself  took 
our  infirmities  and  bare  our  sicknesses."  In  Jesus  Christ  the  rite 
comes  back  into  some  kind  of  external  likeness  to  the  primitive 
form,  but  with  an  unutterable  difference,  a  difference  consisting 
in  an  overwhelming  contrast  rather  than  a  comparison.  The 
scape-victim  is  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  chosen  not  by  lot,  but  by  the 
decree  of  the  Most  High,  proclaimed  through  signs  and  wonders 
which  God  did  by  Him  in  the  midst  of  the  people.  He  is  selected,  if 
we  may  use  the  contrast  without  irreverence,  not  like  the  victim  of 
primitive  societies,  who  was  singled  out  for  the  office  by  a  degra- 
dation which  seemed  openly  to  challenge  the  wrath  of  the  gods, 
but  because  of  His  transcendent  dignity  and  holiness.  It  is  no 
slave  or  war-captive  who  is  dragged  to  this  pathetic  and  igno- 
minious ministry,  but  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  the  Prince  of  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  drawn  by  His  own  free  compassions  for  the 
guilty  and  burdened  race,  made  a  curse  to  redeem  us  from  the 
curse  which  cleaves  to  all  offenders  against  God. 

^  "  Unto  a  solitary  land."  The  solitude  of  the  Sin-bearer  is 
something  altogether  distinct  from  the  solitude  of  the  Holy  One. 
In  His  human  life,  our  blessed  Lord  was,  in  a  certain  sense, 
solitary  for  this  simple  reason  that  He  moved  on  a  higher  plat- 
form than  others.  He  did  not  find  Himself  able  to  educate  His 
own  most  intimate  followers  into  sympathy  with  His  own  real 
aspirations,  or  to  bring  them  under  the  law  of  life,  under  which 


LEVITICUS  XVI.  22  363 

He  moved  and  acted.  They  remained  of  the  earth,  earthy,  while 
He  was  above  it,  breathing  a  purer  atmosphere,  and  living  by  a 
higher  law.  This  solitude  of  holiness  separated  Him  from  sinners : 
but  that  very  separation  which,  from  time  to  time,  made  Him 
lead,  in  His  humanity,  a  strange  lonesome  life,  yet  brought  Him 
into  such  full  contact  with  all  the  glorious  beings  and  the  realities 
of  the  spirit-world,  that  such  a  solitude  could  hardly  be  looked 
upon  with  any  considerable  regret,  or  be  the  source  of  any  actual 
pain.  But  it  was  otherwise  now.  We  are  speaking,  not  of  the 
solitude  of  the  Representative  of  holiness  and  purity,  but  of  the 
solitude  of  the  Sin-bearer,  because  He  was  the  sin-bearer.^ 

%  It  was  a  weary  journey  that  the  scapegoat  took.  It  left 
the  fertile  fields,  and  the  babbling  brooks  of  Israel,  far  behind : 
the  distant  heights  of  Carmel  disappeared  on  the  far-off  horizon ; 
before  it,  there  opened  up  a  boundless  waste  of  desert  sand,  while 
the  "  fit  man  "  trudged  on  relentlessly,  farther,  and  farther,  many 
a  weary  mile,  and  still  the  scapegoat  followed  him,  bearing  the 
sins  of  the  people.  The  grassy  plains  have  disappeared;  the 
last  palm  tree  is  lost  in  the  distance;  the  sound  of  running 
waters  has  long  since  died  upon  the  ear ;  and  all  around  there  is 
the  barren  waste  of  desert  sand ;  and  still  the  man  trudges  on, 
and  still  the  scapegoat  follows  him.  All  alone  in  the  desolate 
wilds,  all  alone  in  a  blighted  land,  and  not  inhabited.  And  then 
the  fit  man  disappears.  He  had  led  the  goat  into  the  solitude, 
and  lo,  it  is  left  alone — all  alone.  Wistfully  it  gazes  round  on 
the  dreary  scene.  Oh,  for  one  blade  of  grass !  oh,  for  one  drop 
of  water !  Its  eyes  are  strained,  its  nostrils  dilated,  if  by  chance 
it  may  catch  a  breath  of  something  like  fertility  borne  in  the 
gale  from  the  distance :  but  no.  In  solitude  and  weariness  it 
still  goes  wandering  on,  and  every  step  it  takes,  brings  it  farther, 
and  farther  still,  into  the  silent  desolate  desert:  the  scapegoat 
is  all  alone.  The  weary  day  drags  out  its  long  hours :  the  dark 
and  mournful  night  closes  in ;  the  morning  sun  rises  up  with 
blistering  heat ;  its  lips  are  parched,  its  limbs  are  trembling :  it 
sinks  amidst  the  desert  sand,  and  dies.  For  it  must  be  remembered 
that  it  was  a  late  custom  that  threw  it  over  the  rock;  at  the 
first  it  was  simply  left  to  die. 

And  so  the  scapegoat  bore  the  sins  of  the  people  into  the 
land  of  separation.    Leave  it  there,  and  come  to  Calvary. 

We  seem  to  see  the  Scapegoat  of  the  human  family  led  by 
the  hand  of  the  "fit  man."  We  read  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  "hy  the  eternal  Spirit" 
offered  Himself  to  God.    That  same  Spirit  of  God  that  led  Him 

1  W.  H.  M.  H.  Aitken. 


364  THE  SCAPEGOAT 

alone  into  the  wilderness,  not  that  He  might  find  comfort,  but 
that  He  might  meet  with  temptation,  has  led  Him  right  up  to 
Jerusalem.  He  set  His  face  like  a  flint  to  go ;  but  still  the 
Spirit  led,  and  still  He  pursued  His  leading,  until  He  finds  Him- 
self in  Gethsemane.  The  terrible  darkness  is  beginning  to  gather 
round  Him,  and  the  agony  to  oppress  His  soul ;  but  the  Spirit 
of  God  leads  on,  and  the  Scapegoat  continues  to  follow.  He 
finds  Himself  all  alone  in  the  judgment  hall,  separated  from  those 
who  were  dearest  to  Him,  and  not  one  friendly  voice  raised  up 
on  behalf  of  the  dying  Son  of  God :  but  the  Spirit  still  leads  on, 
and  the  Scapegoat  must  still  follow.  He  finds  Himself  nailed 
to  the  cross,  and  His  lips  are  parched  with  thirst,  and  His  body 
quails  in  agony.  Will  He  not  now  pause  and  call  for  the  ten 
legions  of  angels?  Might  He  not  raise  those  languid,  dying 
eyes,  and  demand  a  draught  of  the  sparkling  waters  of  life  from 
His  Father's  hand  ?  But  the  Spirit  still  leads  on ;  and  the  Scape- 
goat must  follow.  Deeper  and  deeper,  into  the  darkness ;  down 
into  the  solitude  of  sorrow,  down  into  the  desolate  land  not  in- 
habited; and,  by  and  by,  from  the  breaking  heart,  there  rings 
throughout  God's  universe  the  cry  of  "  the  Forsaken,"  "  My  God, 
My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me?"  The  Scapegoat  has 
found  the  land  of  separation  at  last,  all  alone  in  the  darkness. 
The  isolating  influences  of  sin  have  done  their  work.  He  is  shut 
out  from  the  light  of  His  Father's  eye,  or  to  Himself  He  seems 
to  be :  the  joy,  the  delight  of  His  life  is  gone :  the  blessed  fellow- 
ship seems  broken :  there  is  a  horrible  sense  of  loneliness  within 
His  heart,  and  a  terrible  desolation  within  His  guiltless  souL  So 
He  sinks.  He  staggers,  He  dies :  Jesus,  "  the  Forsaken." 

And  so  He  bore  our  sins  into  the  land  not  inhabited.  No 
witnessing  spirit  can  find  them  there ;  no  denizen  of  those  dreary 
regions  can  rediscover  them.  They  are  left  amid  the  wastes  of 
desolation;  they  are  sunk  like  a  stone  into  the  depths  of  the 
vast  ocean  of  infinite  love.  They  are  lost  sight  of  by  man ;  the 
very  devils  of  hell  cannot  rediscover  them ;  the  angels  find  them 
obhterated  from  their  view,  and  God  Himself  has  turned  His 
back  upon  them,  and  left  them  in  the  land  of  separation.^ 

*Now  have  I  won  a  marvel  and  a  Truth;" 

So  spake  the  soul  and  trembled,  "dread  and  ruth 

Together  mixed,  a  sweet  and  bitter  core 

Closed  in  one  rind;  for  I  did  sin  of  yore, 

But  this  (so  said  1  oft)  was  long  ago; 

So  put  it  from  me  far  away,  but,  lo ! 

With  Thee  is  neither  After  nor  Before, 

»  W.  fl.  M.  H.  Aitkea. 


LEVITICUS  XVI.  22  365 

O  Lord,  and  clear  within  the  noon-light  set 

Of  one  illimitable  Present,  yet 

Thou  lookest  on  my  fault  as  it  were  now. 

So  will  I  mourn  and  humble  me;  yet  Thou 

Art  not  as  man  that  oft  forgives  a  wrong 

Because  he  half  forgets  it,  Time  being  strong 

To  wear  the  crimson  of  guilt's  stain  away; 

For  Thou,  forgiving,  dost  so  in  the  Day 

That  shows  it  clearest,  in  the  boundless  Sea 

Of  Mercy  and  Atonement,  utterly 

Casting  our  pardoned  trespasses  behind. 

No  more  remembered,  or  to  come  in  mind; 

Set  wide  from  us  as  East  from  West  away: 

So  now  this  bitter  turns  to  solace  kind; 

And  I  will  comfort  me  that  once  of  old 

A  deadly  sorrow  struck  me,  and  its  cold 

Euns  through  me  still ;  but  this  was  long  ago. 

My  grief  is  dull  through  age,  and  friends  outworn, 

And  wearied  comforters  have  long  forborne 

To  sit  and  weep  beside  me:  Lord,  yet  Thou 

Dost  look  upon  my  pang  as  it  were  now ! "  ^ 

'  Dora  GreenwelL 


Comb  with  U& 


Literature. 

Aitken  (W.  H.  M.  H.),  Mission  Sermons,  i.  164. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  On  the  Trail  of  Moses,  192. 

Black  (H.),  University  Sermons,  259. 

Black  (J.),  The  Pilgrim  Ship,  73. 

Boyd  (A.  K.  H.),  Sermons  and  Stray  Papers,  184. 

Brooks  (Q.),  Five  Hundred  Outlines  of  Sermons,  123. 

Burrell  (D.  J.),  A  Quiver  of  Arrows,  42s. 

„  The  Religion  of  the  Futu/re,  66. 

Little  (J.),  The  Day-Spring,  23. 
M'Cheyne  (R,  M.),  Additional  Remains,  95. 
Maclaren  (A.),  Expositions  :  Exodus,  Leviticus,  and  Numbers,  314 

„  The  Secret  of  Power,  251. 

Meyer  (F.  B.),  Moses  the  Servant  of  God^  148. 
Perren  (C),  Revival  Sermons,  145. 
Price  (A.  C),  Fifty  Sermons,  i.  353. 
Raleigh  (A.),  From  Dawn  to  the  Perfect  Day,  123. 
Rankin  (J.),  Cluiracter  Studies  in  the  Old  Testainent,  86. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  xvi.  No.  916ii 
Talmage  (T.  de  W.),  Sermons,  vi.  68. 
Wood  (H.),  God!8  Image  in  Man,  226. 
Biblical  W<yrld,  xxx.  (1907)  70  (Fullerton). 
Christiam,  World  Pulpit,  Ixvii.  65  (Black). 
Uomxtttic  Review^  xx.  33  (Hunting Lou). 


1M 


Come  with  Us. 

And  Moses  said  unto  Hobab,  the  son  of  Reuel  the  Midianite,  Moses' 
father  in  law,  We  are  journeying  unto  the  place  of  which  the  Lord  said,  I 
will  give  it  you  :  come  thou  with  us,  and  we  will  do  thee  good  :  for  the  Lord 
hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel.  And  he  said  unto  him,  I  will  not  go  ; 
but  I  will  depart  to  mine  own  land,  and  to  my  kindred.  And  he  said,  Leave 
us  not,  I  pray  thee  ;  forasmuch  as  thou  knowest  how  we  are  to  encamp  in  the 
wilderness,  and  thou  shalt  be  to  us  instead  of  eyes. — Num.  z.  29-31. 

The  Israelites  reached  Sinai  in  three  months  after  leaving  Egypt. 
They  remained  there  for  at  least  nine  months,  and  amidst  the 
solitude  of  those  wild  rocks  they  kept  the  first  Passover — the 
anniversary  of  their  deliverance.  "  On  the  twentieth  day  of  the 
second  month "  they  began  again  their  march  through  the  grim, 
unknown  desert.  One  can  fancy  their  thoughts  and  fears  as  they 
looked  forward  to  the  enemies  and  trials  which  might  be  awaiting 
them.  In  these  circumstances  this  story  comes  in  most  naturally. 
Some  time  before  the  encampment  broke  up  from  Sinai,  a  relative 
of  Moses  by  marriage,  Hobab  by  name,  had  come  into  the  camp 
on  a  visit.  He  was  a  Midianite  by  race ;  one  of  the  wandering 
tribes  from  the  south-east  of  the  Arabian  peninsula.  He  knew 
every  foot  of  the  ground,  as  such  men  do.  He  knew  where  the 
springs  were  and  the  herbage,  the  camping-places,  the  short-cuts, 
and  the  safest  routes.  So  Moses,  who  had  no  doubt  forgotten 
much  of  the  little  desert  skill  he  had  learned  in  keeping  Jethro's 
flock,  prayed  Hobab  to  remain  with  them  and  give  them  the  benefit 
of  his  practical  knowledge — "  to  be  to  us  instead  of  eyes." 

The  passage  has  been  treated  in  two  very  different  ways. 
Some  expositors  consider  that  Moses  was  to  blame  for  seeking  a 
human  guide  when  God  had  given  the  pillar  of  cloud  to  conduct 
the  Israelites  through  the  wilderness.  Maclaren  takes  this  view. 
The  historian,  he  says,  after  recording  the  appeal  to  Hobab,  passes 
on  to  describe  at  once  how  "  the  ark  of  the  covenant  of  the  Lord 

GEN.-NUM. — 24 


370  COME  WITH  US 

went  before  them  to  search  out  a  resting-place  for  them,"  and 
how  "  the  cloud  was  upon  them  when  they  went  out  of  the  camp." 
The  historian  puts  the  two  things  side  by  side,  not  calling  on  us 
to  notice  the  juxtaposition,  but  surely  expecting  that  we  shall  not 
miss  what  is  so  plain.  He  would  teach  us  that  it  mattered  little 
whether  Israel  had  Hobab  or  not,  if  they  had  the  ark  and  the 
cloud.^ 

Others  concentrate  their  attention  on  the  invitation.  They 
see  that,  rightly  or  wrongly,  Hobab  was  invited  to  accompany 
Israel  to  Canaan,  and  that  two  arguments  were  used  to  induce 
him  to  do  so :  he  would  find  good  for  himself,  and  he  would  be  a 
benefit  to  them. 

We  may  use  both  forms  of  exposition,  though  it  will  be  well 
to  use  them  separately.    Then  we  have — 

I.  The  Pilgrim  and  his  Guides. 

1.  Life  is  a  journey  through  the  Unknown. 

2.  Who  is  to  be  the  Guide  ? 
II.  The  Pilgrim  and  his  Friends. 

1.  The  Invitation. 

2.  The  Arguments. 

(1)  For  the  Good  you  will  get. 

(2)  For  the  Good  you  can  do. 


The  Pilgrim  and  his  Guides. 

i.  Life  is  a  journey  through  the  Unknown. 

The  itinerant  life  of  God's  ancient  people  in  the  wilderness 
foreshadows  and  teaches  much  concerning  the  Kfe  of  His  true 
Israel  in  all  ages.  It  teaches  us  that  the  historic  Israel,  the 
people  who  journeyed  from  Egypt  through  the  wilderness  to 
Canaan,  and  the  spiritual  Israel,  those  who  journey  from  this 
world  to  the  heavenly  country,  are  alike  called  out  and  separated 
by  God  from  the  world-life  that  is  around  them.  Neither  of 
them  has  yet  reached  or  entered  the  promised  rest,  but  they  are 
journeying  toward  it.  Both  are  beset  by  dangers  along  the  way, 
because  of  malicious  adversaries  surrounding  it,  and  because  of  the 
1  A.  Maclaren,  The  Secret  of  Power,  252. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  371 

deceitfulness  of  their  own  hearts  within.  To  both,  the  Lord, 
under  whose  orders  they  march,  extends  the  protection  of  His 
power  and  the  guidance  of  His  light.  He  also  furnishes  both 
with  bread  from  heaven  to  satisfy  their  hunger,  and  gives  them 
waters  of  life  from  wells  of  salvation  to  quench  their  thirst. 
Besides,  He  ever  holds  before  them  the  blessed  hope  of  an 
abundant  entrance  into  the  rest  He  has  promised,  when  each  shall 
have  reached  the  end  of  the  journey. 

^  Among  my  own  very  earliest  recollections,  said  Dr.  Eainy, 
are  those  of  an  aged  lady,  very  dear  to  me,  whose  life  was  one 
continued  strain  of  overflowing  piety,  a  long  pilgrimage  of  faith, 
rising  into  an  unbroken  Beulah  of  praise  and  prayer.^ 

^  It  is  a  libel  on  God's  goodness  to  speak  of  the  world  as  a 
wilderness.  He  has  not  made  it  so ;  and  if  anybody  finds  that 
"  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,"  it  is  his  own  fault.  But 
still  one  aspect  of  life  is  truly  represented  by  that  figure.  There 
are  dangers  and  barren  places,  and  a  great  solitude  in  spite  of  love 
and  companionship,  and  many  marchings,  and  lurking  foes,  and 
grim  rocks,  and  fierce  suns,  and  parched  wells,  and  shapeless  sand 
wastes  enough  in  every  life  to  make  us  quail  often  and  look  grave 
always  when  we  think  of  what  may  be  before  us.  Who  knows 
what  we  shall  see  when  we  top  the  next  hill,  or  round  the 
shoulder  of  the  cliff  that  bars  our  way  ?  What  shout  of  an  enemy 
may  crash  in  upon  the  sleeping  camp ;  or  what  stifling  gorge  of 
barren  granite — blazing  in  the  sun  and  trackless  to  our  feet^ 
shall  we  have  to  march  through  to-day  ?  * 

^  The  world  is  very  much  what  you  and  I  choose  to  make  it. 
God  intends  it  to  be  a  place  of  discipline  for  the  heirs  of  glory ;  a 
place  of  preparation  for  heaven ;  a  place  in  which  we  may  be 
trained  and  fitted  for  the  high  destiny  to  which  He  has  called  us — 
just  what  the  wilderness  was  to  Israel.  Now,  if  we  use  the  world 
in  this  way,  we  shall  find  it  to  be  a  very  good  world  for  its 
purpose.  And  the  discipline  will  not  be  all  painful.  We  shall 
have,  as  Israel  had,  our  Marahs,  where  the  waters  are  bitter. 
Disappointments,  bereavements,  sicknesses,  temptations,  painful 
and  prolonged  conflicts  with  evil — these  we  shall  have,  and  they 
will  be  hard  to  bear.  But,  like  Israel,  we  shall  have  our  Elims 
also,  with  their  seventy  palm  trees,  and  twelve  wells  of  refresh- 
ing waters.  God  will  give  to  us  joy,  comforts,  peace,  rest,  to 
cheer  us  on  our  way.  Yet,  just  as  no  schoolboy  counts  school  his 
home,  but  longs  for  the  holidays,  and  the  happy  meeting  with 
relatives  and  friends  ;  so  we,  placed  in  the  world  as  a  school  for 

'  P.  0.  Simpson,  The  Life  of  Priiicipal  Rainy,  L  25.  *  A.  Madaren, 


372  COME  WITH  US 

a  while,  should  not  regard  it  as  our  home ;  but  should  look  forward 
to  the  day,  when,  our  training  complete,  we  shall  enter  heaven, 
and  dwell  there  with  Jesus  for  ever.^ 

Elim,  Elim !     Through  the  sand  and  heat 

I  toil  with  heart  uplifted,  I  toil  with  bleeding  feet; 

For  Elim,  Elim !  at  the  last,  I  know 

That  I  shall  see  the  palm-trees,  and  hear  the  waters  flow. 

Elim,  Elim !     Grows  not  here  a  tree. 
And  all  the  springs  are  Marah,  and  bitter  thirst  to  me; 
But  Elim,  Elim !  in  thy  shady  glen 

Are  twelve  sweet  wells   of  water,  and  palms   three-score  and 
ten. 

Elim,  Elim!     Though  the  way  be  long, 

Unmurmuring  I  shall  journey,  and  lift  my  heart  in  song; 

And  Elim,  Elim !  all  my  song  shall  tell 

Of  rest  beneath  the  palm-tree,  and  joy  beside  the  well. 

ii.  Who  is  to  be  the  Guide? 

1.  €hd. — The  true  leader  of  the  children  of  Israel  in  their 
wilderness  journey  was  not  Moses,  but  the  Divine  Presence  in  the 
cloud  with  a  heart  of  fire,  that  hovered  over  their  camp  for  a 
defence  and  sailed  before  them  for  a  guide.  "The  Lord  went 
before  them  by  day  in  a  pillar  of  cloud  to  lead  them  the  way." 
When  it  lay  on  the  tent,  whether  it  was  for  "  two  days,  or  a 
month,  or  a  year,"  the  march  was  stayed,  and  the  moment  that 
the  cloud  lifted  "  by  day  or  by  night,"  the  encampment  was  broken 
up  and  the  long  procession  was  got  into  marching  order  without 
an  instant's  pause,  to  follow  its  gliding  motion  wherever  it  led 
and  however  long  it  lasted.  First  to  follow  was  the  ark  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  Levites,  and  behind  it,  separated  by  some  space, 
came  the  "  standard  of  the  camp  of  the  children  of  Judah,  and 
then  the  other  tribes  in  their  order." 

It  would  seem  as  if  Hobab's  aid  were  rendered  needless  by  the 
provision  of  guidance  immediately  promised.  Up  to  this  moment 
the  position  of  the  Ark  had  been  in  the  midst  of  the  host,  in  front 
of  Ephraim,  Benjaraiu,  and  Manasseh ;  but  henceforth  it  went 
three  days'  journey  in  front  of  the  people,  "  to  seek  out  a  resting- 
place  for  them."     We  are  left  to  conceive  of  its  lonely  journey  as 

>  A.  0.  Price. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  373 

it  went  forward,  borne  by  its  attendant  band  of  priests  and 
Levites,  and  perhaps  accompanied  by  a  little  group  of  princes 
and  warriors,  and  especially  by  the  great  lawgiver  himself.  Far 
behind,  at  a  distance  of  miles,  followed  the  camp  with  its  tumult, 
its  murmur  of  many  voices,  the  cries  of  little  children,  the 
measured  tramp  of  armed  bands.  But  none  of  these  intruded  on 
the  silence  and  solemnity  which,  like  majestic  angels,  passed 
forward  with  that  courier  group  accompanying  the  Ark,  over 
which  cherubic  forms  were  bending.  That  Moses  was  there  is 
indubitable ;  for  the  august  sentences  are  recorded  with  which  he 
announced  its  starting  forth  and  its  setting  down.  In  the  one 
case,  looking  into  the  thin  air,  which  seemed  to  him  thronged 
with  opposing  forces  of  men  and  demons,  he  cried,  "  Eise  up,  0 
Lord,  and  let  thine  enemies  be  scattered ;  and  let  them  that  hate 
thee  flee  before  thee";  and  in  the  other  he  cried,  "Keturn,  0 
Lord,  unto  the  many  thousands  of  Israel"  (verses  35  and  36). 
Thus  God  Himself  superseded  the  proposal  of  Moses  by  an 
expedient  which  more  than  met  their  needs. 

^  We  have  the  same  Divine  guidance,  if  we  will ;  in  sober 
reality  we  have  God's  presence ;  and  waiting  hearts  which  have 
ceased  from  self-will  may  receive  leading  as  real  as  ever  the  pillar 
gave  to  Israel.  God's  providence  does  still  shape  our  paths ; 
God's  Spirit  will  direct  us  within,  and  God's  word  will  counsel  us. 
If  we  will  wait  and  watch  we  shall  not  be  left  undirected.  It  is 
wonderful  how  much  practical  wisdom  about  the  smallest  per- 
plexities of  daily  life  comes  to  men  who  keep  both  their  feet  and 
their  wishes  still  until  Providence — or,  as  the  world  prefers  to 
call  it,  "  circumstances  " — clears  a  path  for  them, 

^  Better  to  take  Moses  for  our  example  when  he  prayed,  as  the 
ark  set  forward  and  the  march  began,  "  Eise  up,  0  Lord,  and  let 
thine  enemies  be  scattered,"  than  to  follow  him  in  eagerly  seeking 
some  Hobab  or  other  to  show  us  where  we  should  go.  Better  to 
commit  our  resting  times  to  God  with  Moses'  prayer  when  the 
ark  halted,  "  Eeturn,  0  Lord,  unto  the  many  thousands  of  Israel," 
and  so  to  repose  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty,  than  to  seek 
safety  in  having  some  man  with  us  "  who  knows  how  we  are  to 
encamp  in  this  wilderness." 

Whither,  midst  falling  dew, 
While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day, 
Far,  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  solitary  way  ? 


7,74  COME  WITH  US 

Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 
Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As,  darkly  seen  against  the  crimson  sky, 

Thy  figure  floats  along. 

Seek'st  thou  the  plashy  brink 
Of  weedy  lake,  or  marge  of  river  wide, 
Or  where  the  rocking  billows  rise  and  sink 

On  the  chafed  ocean-side  ? 

There  is  a  Power  whose  care 
Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast — 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air — 

Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost. 

All  day  thy  wings  have  fanned. 
At  that  far  height,  the  cold,  thin  atmosphere, 
Yet  stoop  not,  weary,  to  the  welcome  land. 

Though  the  dark  night  is  near. 

And  soon  that  toil  shall  end; 
Soon  shalt  thou  find  a  summer  home,  and  rest. 
And  scream  among  thy  fellows;   reeds  shall  bend, 

Soon,  o'er  thy  sheltered  nest. 

Thou'rt  gone,  the  abyss  of  heaven 
Hath  swallowed  up  thy  form;   yet,  on  my  heart 
Deeply  hath  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given, 

And  shall  not  soon  depart. 

He  who,  from  zone  to  zone, 
Guides  through  the  boundless  sky  thy  certain  flight 
In  the  long  way  that  I  must  tread  alone. 

Will  lead  my  steps  aright.^ 

2.  Man. — Most  commentators  excuse,  or  even  approve  of,  the 
effort  of  Moses  to  secure  Hobab's  help,  and  they  draw  from  the 
story  the  lesson  that  supernatural  guidance  does  not  make  human 
guidance  unnecessary.  That,  of  course,  is  true  in  a  fashion ;  but 
it  appears  to  us  that  the  true  lesson  of  the  incident,  considered  in 
connection  with  the  following  section,  is  much  rather  that,  for 
men  wlio  have  God  to  guide  them,  it  argues  weakness  of  faith  and 

»  W.  0.  Bryant,  To  a  TFater/owl. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  375 

courage  to  be  much  solicitous  of  any  Hobab  to  show  them  where 
to  go  and  where  to  camp.^ 

^  Our  weakness  of  faith  in  the  unseen  is  ever  tending  to 
pervert  the  relation  between  teacher  and  taught  into  practical 
forgetfulness  that  the  promise  of  the  new  covenant  is,  "  They  shall 
all  be  taught  of  God."  So  we  are  all  apt  to  pin  our  faith  on  some 
trusted  guide,  and  many  of  us  in  these  days  will  follow  some 
teacher  of  negations  with  an  implicit  submission  which  we  refuse 
to  give  to  Jesus  Christ.  We  put  the  teacher  between  ourselves 
and  God,  and  give  to  the  glowing  colours  of  the  painted 
window  the  admiration  that  is  due  to  the  light  which  shines 
through  it. 

^  We  seek  our  Hobabs  in  the  advice  of  sage  grey-haired 
counsellors ;  in  the  formation  of  strong,  intelligent,  and  wealthy 
committees;  in  a  careful  observance  of  precedent.  Anything 
seems  better  than  a  simple  reliance  on  an  unseen  guide.  Now,  in 
one  sense,  there  is  no  harm  in  this.  We  have  neither  right  nor 
need  to  cut  ourselves  adrift  from  others  who  have  had  special 
experience  in  some  new  ground  on  which  we  are  venturing.  It 
is  a  mistake  to  live  a  hermit  life,  thinking  out  all  our  own 
problems,  and  meeting  all  our  own  questions  as  best  we  may. 
Those  who  do  so  are  apt  to  become  self-opinionated  and  full  of 
crotchets.  God  often  speaks  to  us  through  our  fellows ;  they  are 
His  ministers  to  us  for  good,  and  we  do  well  to  listen  to  our 
Samuels,  our  Isaiahs,  our  Johns.  But  there  is  also  a  great  danger 
that  we  should  put  man  before  God ;  that  we  should  think  more 
of  the  glasses  than  of  that  which  they  are  intended  to  reveal ;  and 
that  we  should  so  cling  to  Hobab  as  to  become  unmindful  of  the 
true  Guide  and  Leader  of  souls.  When  we  have  given  Him  Hia 
right  place.  He  will  probably  restore  our  judges  as  at  the  first 
and  our  counsellors  as  at  the  beginning ;  but  the  first  necessity  is 
that  the  eye  should  be  single  towards  Himself,  so  that  the  whole 
body  may  be  full  of  light.^ 

3.  Christ. — Moses  sought  to  secure  this  Midianite  guide  because 
he  was  a  native  of  the  desert,  and  had  travelled  all  over  it.  His 
experience  was  his  qualification.  We  have  a  Brother  who  has 
Himself  travelled  every  foot  of  the  road  by  which  we  have  to  go, 
and  His  footsteps  have  marked  out  with  blood  a  track  for  us  to 
follow,  and  have  trodden  a  footpath  through  the  else  pathless 
waste.  He  knows  "  how  to  encamp  in  this  wilderness,"  for  He 
Himself  has   "tabernacled  among   us,"  and   by  experience   has 

'  A.  Maclaren.  '  F.  B.  Meyer. 


376  COME  WITH  US 

learned  the   weariness   of    the  journey  and   the  perils  of   the 
wilderness. 

^  Our  poor  weak  hearts  long  for  a  brother's  hand  to  hold  us 
up,  for  a  brother's  voice  to  whisper  a  word  of  cheer,  for  a  brother's 
example  to  animate  as  well  as  to  instruct.  An  abstract  law  of 
right  is  but  a  cold  guide,  like  the  stars  that  shine  keen  in  the  polar 
winter.  It  is  hard  even  to  find  in  the  bare  thought  of  an  unseen  God 
guiding  us  by  His  unseen  Spirit  within  and  His  unseen  Providence 
without,  the  solidity  and  warmth  which  we  need.  Therefore  we 
have  mercifully  received  God  manifest  in  the  liesh,  a  Brother  to 
be  our  guide  and  the  Captain  of  our  salvation. 


IL 

The  Pilgrim  and  his  Friends. 

i.  The  Invitation. 

It  is  one  of  those  kindly  gracious  invitations  which  abound 
throughout  the  Word  of  God.  It  is  the  invitation  of  one  relative 
to  another.  By  faith,  Moses  saw  before  him  the  Promised  Land ; 
he  realized  it.  "  Faith  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen  "  (Heb.  xL  1).  And  he  longed  intensely 
to  have  his  friend  and  relative  with  him,  in  the  inheritance  of 
that  land.  Hence  his  earnest  appeal.  And  as  with  Moses,  so 
with  all  who  are  Christians  indeed. 

^  When  Paul  had  tasted  the  joy  and  peace  of  believing,  he 
said,  "  My  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  for  Israel  is,  that  they 
might  be  saved  "  (Eom.  x.  1).  When  Andrew  had  found  Christ 
himself,  "  he  first  findeth  his  own  brother  Simon,  and  saith  unto 
him,  We  have  found  the  Messias,  which  is,  being  interpreted, 
the  Christ ;  and  he  brought  him  to  Jesus  "  (John  i.  41,  42).  So 
also  Philip :  he  "  findeth  Nathanael,  and  saith  unto  him,  We  have 
found  him,  of  whom  Moses  in  the  law  and  the  prophets  did  write, 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  son  of  Joseph."  And  when  "  Nathanael 
said  unto  him.  Can  there  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth  ? 
Philip  saith  unto  him.  Come  and  see  "  (John  i.  45,  46).  Further, 
when  our  Lord  had  cured  the  man  possessed  with  a  legion  of 
devils.  He  bade  him,  "  Go  home  to  thy  friends,  and  tell  them  how 
great  things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  hath  had  compas- 
sion on  thee  "  (Mark  v.  19).  And,  nearer  to  our  own  time  than 
these  instances,  when  the  poor  slave  in  Antigua  had  been  con- 
verted to  God,  he  used,  day  by  day,  to  pray  that  there  might  be 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  377 

afvll  Jieaven,  and  an  empty  hell.  Yes,  and  a  little  girl  of  eleven 
years,  who  had  found  Jesus  as  her  all,  ran  to  her  mother,  her 
heart  overflowing  with  love,  and  cried,  "  0  mother,  if  all  the  world 
knew  this  !  I  wish  I  could  tell  everybody — may  I  not  run  in  and 
tell  some  of  our  neighbours,  that  they  may  love  my  Saviour  too  ? " 
Such  is  everywhere  and  always  the  spirit  of  true  Christianity.^ 

1.  The  Invitation  is  a  promise,  a  promise  of  good  in  the  future. 
"For  the  Lord  hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel."  The 
religion  of  the  Bible  is  emphatically  the  religion  of  the  promise. 
In  heathen  religion,  the  threat  predominates  over  the  promise. 
But  in  the  glad  faith  that  boasts  the  name  of  Gospel,  the 
promise  predominates  over  the  threat.  Christians  are  men  with 
a  hope,  men  who  have  been  called  to  inherit  a  blessing.  This 
element  of  promise  runs  through  the  whole  Bible.  What  book 
anywhere  can  you  point  to  with  such  a  forward  look  as  that  book  ? 
As  we  watch  the  worthies  of  many  generations  pass  in  long  pro- 
cession onwards,  from  the  day  when  the  promise  was  first  given  of 
the  One  who  should  come  and  bruise  the  serpent's  head,  down  to  the 
day  when  the  aged  Simeon  in  the  Temple  took  the  Child  Jesus  into 
his  arms  and  blessed  Him,  we  seem  to  see  upon  every  forehead  a 
glow  of  light.  These  men,  we  say,  front  the  sunrising.  They 
have  a  hope.  Their  journey  is  into  the  morning.  A  purpose  is 
in  their  eyes.  They  are  looking  for  something,  and  they  look  as 
those  look  who  expect  in  due  time  to  find.  If  this  be  true  of  the 
general  tone  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures,  doubly,  trebly  is  it 
true  of  the  New  Testament.  The  coming  of  Christ  has  only 
quickened  and  made  more  intense  in  us  that  instinct  of  hope 
which  the  old  prophecies  of  His  coming  first  inspired.  For  when 
He  came,  He  brought  in  larger  hopes  and  opened  to  us  far-reach- 
ing vistas  of  promise,  such  as  had  never  been  dreamed  of  before. 
Only  think  how  full  of  eager,  joyous  anticipation  the  New 
Testament  is,  from  first  to  last. 

2.  The  promise  is  of  a  Place,  "  The  place  of  which  the  Lord 
said,  I  will  give  it  you."  The  progress  of  human  knowledge 
has  made  it  difficult  to  think  and  speak  of  heaven  as  believing 
men  used  to  think  and  speak  of  it.  But,  while  there  is  a  certain 
grain  of  reasonableness  in  the  argument  for  silence  with  respect 
to  heaven  and  the  things  of  heaven,  there  is  by  no  means  so  much 

'  A.  Maclaren. 


378  COME  WITH  US 

weight  to  be  attached  to  it  as  many  people  seem  to  suppose.  For 
after  all,  when  we  come  to  think  of  it,  this  changed  conception  of 
what  heaven  may  be  like  is  not  traceable  so  much  to  any  marvellous 
revolution  that  has  come  over  the  whole  character  of  human 
thought,  as  it  is  to  the  changes  which  have  taken  place  in  our 
own  several  minds,  and  which  necessarily  take  place  in  every 
mind  in  its  progress  from  infancy  to  maturity.  The  reality 
and  trustworthiness  of  the  promise  are  not  one  whit  affected  by 
the  revelation  of  the  vastness  of  the  resources  which  lie  at  His 
command  who  makes  the  promise.  Instead  of  repining  because 
we  cannot  dwarf  God's  universe  so  as  to  make  it  fit  perfectly  the 
smallness  of  our  notions,  let  us  turn  all  our  energies  to  seeking  to 
enlarge  the  capacity  of  our  faith,  so  that  it  shall  be  able  to  hold 
more. 

^  When  the  Church  says  "  Come  thou  with  us  "  to  any  who 
are  hesitating  and  undecided,  her  face  is  heavenwards,  her 
movement  is  in  that  way;  she  holds  in  her  hand  the  roll  of 
promise,  the  map  of  "  the  better  country,  even  the  heavenly,"  and 
sees  her  own  title  to  possession  written  there  as  with  the  finger 
of  God.  She  is  not  lured  onwards  by  the  dreams  of  natural 
enthusiasm,  or  by  the  flickering  lights  of  philosophy,  or  by  the 
dim  hopes  which  arise  in  the  human  breast  of  something  better 
and  nobler  to  come,  by  God's  goodness,  out  of  all  this  wrack  and 
storm  of  disappointment,  sorrow,  and  change.  These  things  are 
good  in  their  own  place  and  measure,  but  the  Church  has  a  word 
of  promise  from  God,  a  promise  clear  and  firm  about  another  life, 
a  perfect  state,  "  a  better  country,  an  heavenly."  ^ 

IF  We  had  needs  invent  heaven  if  it  had  not  been  revealed  to 
us;  there  are  some  things  that  fall  so  bitterly  ill  on  this  side 
time !  * 

Give  me  my  scallop-shell  of  quiet, 
My  staff  of  faith  to  walk  upon; 
My  scrip  of  joy,  immortal  diet; 
My  bottle  of  salvation. 
My  gown  of  glory,  hope's  true  gage, 
And  thus  I'll  take  my  pilgrimage. 
Blood  must  be  my  body's  only  balmer, 
Whilst  my  soul  like  a  quiet  palmer, 
Travelleth  towards  the  land  of  heaven, 
No  other  balm  will  there  be  given. 

1  A.  Raleigh.  ^  R.  L.  Stevenson,  SU  7tM«. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  379 

Over  the  silver  mountains, 
Where  spring  the  nectar  fountains, 
There  will  I  kiss  the  bowl  of  bliss. 
And  drink  mine  everlasting  fill 
Upon  every  milken  hill. 
My  soul  will  be  a-dry  before, 
But  after,  it  will  thirst  no  more.* 

3.  Much  depends  always  upon  the  way  in  which  the  invitation 
is  made. 

(1)  As  it  is  a  very  kind  and  tender  word,  "  Come  thou  with 
us,"  let  it  be  spoken  permasively.  Use  such  reasoning  as  you  can 
to  prove  that  it  is  at  once  a  duty  and  a  privilege.  Observe, 
Moses  does  not  command,  but  he  persuades ;  nor  does  he  merely 
make  a  suggestion  or  give  a  formal  invitation,  but  he  uses  an 
argument,  he  puts  it  attractively,  "  And  we  will  do  thee  good." 
So,  look  the  matter  up ;  study  it ;  get  your  arguments  ready,  seek 
out  inducements  from  your  own  experience.  Draw  a  reason,  and 
then  and  thus  try  to  persuade  your  Christian  friends. 

(2)  Make  it  heartily.  Observe  how  Moses  puts  it  as  from  a 
very  warm  heart.  "  Come  thou  with  us  " ;  give  me  thy  hand,  my 
brother;  come  thou  with  us,  and  we  will  do  thee  good.  There 
are  no  "  ifs  "  and  "  ands  "  and  "  buts,"  or,  "  Well,  you  may  perhaps 
be  welcome,"  but  "  Come  thou  with  us."  Give  a  hearty,  loving, 
warm  invitation  to  those  whom  you  believe  to  be  your  brethren 
and  sisters  in  Christ. 

(3)  Make  it  repeatedly  if  once  will  not  suffice.  Observe  in  this 
case,  Hobab  said  he  thought  he  would  depart  to  his  own  land 
and  his  kindred,  but  Moses  returns  to  the  charge,  and  says 
"Leave  us  not,  I  pray  thee."  How  earnestly  he  puts  it!  He 
will  have  no  put  off.  If  at  first  it  was  a  request,  now  it  is  a 
beseeching  almost  to  entreaty — "  Leave  us  not,  I  pray  thee."    And 

how  he  repeats  the  old  argument,  but  puts  it  in  a  better  light ! 

"  If  thou  go  with  us,  yea,  it  shall  be,  that  what  goodness  the  Lord 
shall  do  unto  us,  the  same  will  we  do  unto  thee." 

ii.  The  Arg^iiments  Used. 
1.  The  first  argument  is.  Come  with  us /or  the  good  you  will  get. 
1.  Moses  has  Hohab's  interests  at  heart  when  he  asks  him  to 
accompany  them.     This  is  so  even  if  Hobab,  like  Moses  himself, 

»  Sir  Walter  Ealeigh. 


38o  COME  WITH  US 

should  never  enter  the  promised  land;  for  he  will  be  in  the 
channel  of  the  promise,  under  the  blessing  of  God.  For  his  oion 
sake  he  ought  to  come,  "  Come  thou  with  us,  and  we  will  do  thee 
good :  for  the  Lord  hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel." 

^  As  a  lady,  well  known  as  an  earnest  and  devoted  servant  of 
God,  was  going  home  from  a  meeting,  she  was  asked  to  take  the 
arm  of  a  young  gentleman  who  was  moving  in  the  highest  circles 
of  fashion,  a  man  who  had  led  a  very  gay  life.  He  did  not  hke 
taking  this  lady  home ;  he  suspected  she  would  begin  to  preach  to 
him  before  he  got  home;  however,  being  a  gentleman,  he  gave 
her  his  arm.  She  did  not  talk  about  the  meeting,  but  as  they 
were  drawing  near  home  she  led  the  conversation  round  to 
subjects  bearing  on  the  well-being  of  her  companion.  He  replied : 
"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  religious  people  are  always  trying  to 
strip  us  of  all  our  little  enjoyments.  A  young  man  has  only  once 
in  his  life  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  himself ;  he  will  never  have 
another  chance.  I  am  one  of  those  who  enjoy  life  thoroughly. 
I  do  not  see  why  you  should  try  to  take  away  all  I  have  got." 
The  lady  pressed  him  on  the  arm,  and  said  to  him  very  emphatic- 
ally :  "  My  dear  sir,  I  don't  want  you  to  give  up ;  I  want  you  to 
receive."  He  said,  "  What  do  you  mean  ? "  She  replied,  "  I 
won't  say  any  more,  I  must  leave  that  word  for  you  to  think 
over."  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  will  try  to  turn  it  over  in  my  mind, 
and  see  if  I  can  understand  you."  And  so  it  fell  out  that  the 
word  went  home  to  his  heart,  and  he  never  rested  until  he  had 
got  the  reality.^ 

2.  This  argument  is  used  by  the  Church.  The  Church  says 
with  assurance,  Come  with  us  and  we  will  do  thee  good ;  for  the 
Lord  hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel.  It  says  this  with 
emphasis ;  it  says  it  pleadingly.  It  has  blessings,  promises,  and 
powers,  of  which  it  is  sure.  It  knows  that  men  are  in  need  of 
what  it  possesses.  It  sees  men  living  to  little  purpose  and  for  little 
ends.  It  sees  the  sin  and  the  sorrow.  It  has  deep  pity  for  the 
deep  pathos  of  human  life.  Its  whole  work  is  to  do  men  good,  as 
it  declares  the  gospel  of  the  Kingdom,  calling  them  to  pardon  and 
peace,  offering  them  salvation,  presenting  to  them  the  manifold 
riches  of  Christ,  pointing  to  the  way  of  life  and  of  joy.  The 
heart  of  the  true  Church  yearns  over  men  with  a  great  longing, 
seeing  them  to  be,  though  they  may  know  it  not,  wretched  and 
miserable  and  poor  and  blind  and  naked.  It  has  a  message  for 
*  O»nou  W.  Hay  M.  H.  Aitken. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  381 

you,  which  it  is  irreparable  loss  for  you  to  neglect     It  offers  you 
a  great  and  eternal  good.^ 

1  It  seems  in  these  days  that  this  is  the  only  invitation  to 
church  now  possible.  All  that  is  now  possible  is  to  indvxx  people 
to  go  to  church.  They  must  be  drawn,  not  driven.  "  Come  with 
us,"  the  congregation  in  G-od's  house  seems  to  say  to  outsiders : 
"  Come  with  us,  and  we  will  do  you  good."  It  is  well,  it  is  a 
great  thing,  if  the  services  of  the  church  are  felt  to  be  pleasant : 
but  it  is  vital  and  essential  that  they  be  felt  to  be  helpful.  They 
must  do  you  good,  or  there  ifl  something  wrong  either  in  them  or 
in  you.2 

3.  In  what  ways  may  we  hope  to  get  good  by  coming  to  church  ? 

(1)  By  Recognition  of  the  Unseen  and  Eternal. — When  we 
gather  in  church,  here  is  something,  coming  regularly,  coming 
frequently,  that  keeps  us  in  remembrance  that  there  is  more  than 
what  is  seen  and  felt;  that  there  are  realities  and  interests 
beyond  what  our  senses  reveal  to  us,  which  are  the  most  substantial 
and  enduring  of  alL  It  is  a  great  matter — ^in  this  world  of  things 
we  see  and  touch,  and  pressed  as  we  are  continually  by  the  power 
which  these  things  have  to  make  us  vaguely  feel  and  practically 
live  as  if  there  were  nothing  beyond  them — that  this  testimony 
is  borne,  at  least  every  Sunday,  to  the  existence  and  solemn 
importance  of  the  Invisible  and  Spiritual. 

Tell  me  the  old,  old  story 

Of  unseen  things  above, 
Of  Jesus  and  His  glory. 

Of  Jesus  and  His  love. 

(2)  By  Repetition  of  the  Story  of  the  Cross. — We  go  to  church 
to  think  of  things ;  we  go,  intending  that  our  minds  be  specially 
occupied  with  certain  matters  which,  in  the  bustle  of  our  life,  we 
are  ready  to  forget.  There  is  a  whole  order  of  ideas  present  to 
our  mind  in  God's  house,  which  (to  say  the  least)  are  not  habitu- 
ally associated  with  any  other  place  we  go  to.  There  is  an  old 
story  to  be  pressed  upon  us:  an  old  story  which  is  of  such  a 
nature,  that  though  we  know  it  quite  well,  we  like  and  we  need 
to  hear  it  over  again.  For  it  may  be  told  perpetually  without 
anything  like  wearisome  repetition :  and  all  outward  surroundings 
in  this  life  go  so  much  to  make  us  unmindful  of  it,  that  we  need 

1  Hugh  Black.  «  A.  K.  H.  Boyd. 


382  COME  WITH   US 

sorely  to  have  our  minds  specially  and  earnestly  urged  in  just  this 
particular  direction. 

Tell  me  the  story  often, 

For  I  forget  so  soon; 
The  early  dew  of  morning 

Has  passed  away  at  noon. 

(3)  By  Realization  of  the  Presence  and  Power  of  Christ. — For 
there  is  more  in  God's  house  than  instruction,  or  than  stirring  up 
the  fading  and  feeble  remembrance :  more  than  that  and  deeper. 
God  Almighty  has  appointed  and  decreed  that  there  shall  be  a  real 
power  and  grace  and  help  in  the  ordinances  of  His  house;  and 
Christ  has  said,  in  sober  earnest,  that  "  Where  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them." 

Tell  me  the  story  always, 

If  you  would  really  be, 
In  any  time  of  trouble 

A  comforter  to  me. 

2.  The  second  argument  is,  Come  with  us  for  the  good  you 
can  do. 

1.  Moses  had  another  plea,  even  after  refusal — a  plea,  under  the 
circumstances,  far  more  powerful  to  such  a  man  than  the  offer  of 
personal  good.  It  was  the  plea,  not  of  Hobab's  need  of  Israel, 
but  of  Israel's  need  of  Hobab.  He  knew  the  country,  knew  all 
the  dangers  and  resources :  he  was  a  man  of  great  influence  and 
wisdom ;  and  cared  for  Moses,  and  presumably  also  for  the  great 
religious  interests  at  stake  in  Israel's  future.  To  have  him  with 
them  would  be  a  source  of  strength  to  all.  And  so  Moses'  invita- 
tion took  another  form.  He  appealed  to  Hobab's  heart  and  not 
to  his  interests :  he  appealed  to  their  need  of  him,  and  no  longer 
to  anything  of  good  that  might  come  to  himself.  "  Leave  us  not, 
I  pray  thee ;  forasmuch  as  thou  knowest  how  we  are  to  encamp 
in  the  wilderness,  and  thou  shalt  be  to  us  instead  of  eyes." 

IF  I  believe  you  will  seldom  get  much  good  unless  you  are 
willing  also  to  confer  good ;  those  who  are  the  nearest  to  the 
heart  of  the  preacher,  in  all  Christian  service,  will  in  all  probability 
be  most  spiritually  enriched  under  his  ministry.^ 

2.  This  argument  also  is  used  by  the  Church.     It  is  a  powerful 

'  0.  H.  Spurgoon. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  383 

argument  to  a  high  heart ;  and  the  Church's  very  existence — 
encamped  in  the  wilderness,  fighting  the  great  battle  against 
principalities  and  powers  of  evil,  seeking,  striving,  suffering  for 
that  Promised  Land,  for  man's  higher  life  on  earth,  waiting  for 
the  consolation  of  Israel,  giving  itself  to  the  great  task  of  estab- 
lishing the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  on  earth — the  Church's  very 
existence  is  an  appeal  to  us.  God  had  spoken  good  concerning 
Israel  whether  Hobab  came  or  stayed ;  but  it  was  much  to  have 
Hobab's  help  in  the  great  enterprise,  much  to  have  one  who  could 
be  to  them  instead  of  eyes.  And  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  will 
come  with  ua  or  without  us ;  but  just  because  it  is  a  task  high 
and  hard,  we  should  be  in  the  thick  of  it,  taking  our  part  of  the 
glorious  burden.  Though  we  might  not  think  of  coming  for  our 
own  sake,  can  we  resist  this  other  appeal  to  come  for  the  sake  of 
the  Church  ? 

3.  What  good  could  Hobab  have  done  ? 

(1)  He  could  have  been  a  companion  on  the  journey. — We  are 
meant  to  depend  on  one  another.  No  man  can  safely  isolate 
himself,  either  intellectually  or  in  practical  matters.  The  self- 
trained  scholar  is  usually  incomplete.  Crotchets  take  possession 
of  the  solitary  thinker,  and  peculiarities  of  character  that  would 
have  been  kept  in  check,  and  might  have  become  aids  in  the 
symmetrical  development  of  the  whole  man,  if  they  had  been 
reduced  and  modified  in  society,  get  swollen  into  deformities  in 
solitude.  The  highest  and  the  lowest  blessings  for  life  both  of 
heart  and  mind — blessedness  and  love,  and  wisdom  and  goodness 
— are  ministered  to  men  through  men,  and  to  live  without  de- 
pendence on  human  help  and  guidance  is  to  be  either  a  savage  or 
an  angel.  God's  guidance  does  not  make  man's  needless,  for  a 
very  large  part  of  God's  guidance  is  ministered  to  us  through 
men.  And  wherever  a  man's  thoughts  and  words  teach  us  to 
understand  God's  thoughts  and  words  more  clearly,  to  love  them 
more  earnestly,  or  to  obey  them  more  gladly,  there  human  guid- 
ance is  discharging  its  noblest  function.  And  wherever  the 
human  guide  turns  us  away  from  himself  to  God,  and  says,  "  I 
am  but  a  voice,  I  am  not  the  light  that  guides,"  there  it  is  blessed 
and  safe  to  cherish  and  to  prize  it. 

^  Some  of  us  have  sad  memories  of  times  when  we  journeyed 
ID  company  with  those  who  will  never  share  our  tent  or  counsel 


3^4  COME  WITH  US 

our  steps  any  more,  and,  as  we  sit  lonely  by  our  watchfire  in  the 
wilderness,  have  aching  hearts  and  silent  nights.  Some  of  us 
may  be,  as  yet,  rich  in  companions  and  helpers,  whose  words  are 
wisdom,  whose  wishes  are  love  to  us,  and  may  tremble  as  we 
think  that  one  day  cither  they  or  we  shall  have  to  tramp  on  by 
ourselves.  But  for  us  all,  cast  down  and  lonely,  or  still  blessed 
with  dear  ones  and  afraid  to  live  without  them,  there  is  a 
Presence  which  departs  never,  which  will  move  before  us  as  we 
journey,  and  hover  over  us  as  a  shield  when  we  rest ;  which  will 
be  a  cloud  to  veil  the  sun  that  it  smite  us  not  by  day,  and  will 
redden  into  fire  as  the  night  falls,  being  ever  brightest  when  we 
need  it  most,  and  burning  clearest  of  all  in  the  valley  at  the  end, 
where  its  guidance  will  cease  only  because  then  "  the  Lamb  that 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  will  lead  them."  "  This  God  is  our 
God  for  ever  and  ever ;  He  will  be  our  guide  even  unto  death."  ^ 

They  talk  about  the  solid  earth. 

But  all  has  changed  before  mine  eyes; 

There's  nothing  left  I  used  to  know, 
Except  God's  everchanging  skies. 

I've  kept  old  ways  and  loved  old  friends, 
Yet  one  by  one  they've  slipped  away; 

Stand  where  we  will,  cling  as  we  like. 
There's  none  but  God  can  be  our  stay. 

It  is  only  by  our  hold  on  Him, 

We  keep  our  hold  on  those  who  pass 

Out  of  our  sight  across  the  seas. 

Or  underneath  the  churchyard  grass.* 

(2)  He  could  have  teen  of  service  to  the  good  cause. — Come,  said 
Moses ;  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  come  for  our  sake :  if  you  do 
not  need  us,  we  need  you :  we  are  to  encamp  in  the  wilderness, 
girt  round  with  danger  and  weighted  with  heavy  tasks,  and  you 
can  be  to  us  instead  of  eyes.  If  you  will  not  come  because  the 
Lord  hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel,  come  to  help  us  to  achieve 
that  good.     "  Leave  us  not,  and  thou  mayest  be  to  us  as  eyes." 

^  The  Christian  salvation  is  not  just  salvage,  rescuing  the 
flotsam  and  jetsam,  the  human  wreckage  that  strews  the  sea  of 
life ;  though  it  is  the  glory  of  the  faith  and  its  divinest  attribute 
that  it  does  save  even  the  broken  and  battered  lives  of  men.  But 
salvation  includes  and  implies  service  also.  It  is  a  summons  to 
participate  in  a  great  work,  to  share  in  a  glorious  venture. 

^  A.  Maulareu.  '  W.  R.  NicoU,  Suiuiay  Eveniv^g,  83. 


NUMBERS  X.  29-31  385 

^  Think  of  the  Church's  task  in  its  widest  aspect — to  claim 
the  world  for  God,  to  let  them  that  sit  in  darkness  see  the  great 
light,  anointed  like  the  Church's  Lord  to  preach  the  gospel  to 
the  poor,  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the 
captives  and  recovery  of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  them 
that  are  bruised.  Think  of  the  terrible  warfare  to  which  it  is 
committed — to  subdue  the  beast  in  man,  to  oppose  evil  in  high 
places  and  in  low — a  warfare  that  knows  no  truce,  relentless, 
lifelong;  and,  as  here  in  this  corner  of  the  field  we  are  hard 
bestead  and  appeal  to  you  for  reinforcement,  will  you  sit  at  ease 
and  refuse  the  call  ?  ^ 

V  Come  with  us,  if  not  for  the  good  you  will  get,  then  for  the 
good  you  will  do.  You  shall  be  to  us  for  eyes,  if  it  shall  turn  out 
that  you  can  see  more  clearly  and  farther  than  we.  You  shall  come 
in  with  your  organic  faculty  unimpaired  and  use  it  to  the  utmost ; 
with  your  natural  tastes  and  tendencies  that  are  sinless,  unde- 
preciated ;  with  your  points  of  natural  superiority  to  be  acknow- 
ledged and  used.  You  shall  be  eyes  to  us  to  see  what  you  only 
can  see ;  and  tongue,  if  you  will,  to  tell  the  seeing  for  the  good  of 
all :  and  I  think  this,  that  if  there  be  one  spark  of  nobleness  un- 
tarnished left  in  you,  you  cannot  resist  such  an  appeal.  It  is  not 
to  your  selfishness ;  it  is  not  for  your  own  salvation ;  it  is  for  the 
guidance  and  the  good  of  God's  struggling  people ;  it  is  for  the 
salvation  of  your  fellowmen  who  may  become  God's  struggling 
people  through  your  means.  There  lives  no  man  who  has  not 
something  characteristic  and  peculiar  to  himself  by  the  full 
development  and  expression  of  which  he  can  benefit  his  fellow- 
creatures  as  no  other  but  himself  exactly  can  do.  That  idea  can 
become  fully  real  only  in  the  Church  of  God.* 

^  Though  you  know  nothing  about  the  passion  of  the  saints, 
what  about  the  service  of  the  saints  ?  You  are  not  sure  about  the 
supreme  claims  over  your  life  which  Christ  makes ;  but  have  you 
no  opinion  about  the  great  purposes  He  seeks  to  accomplish  in 
the  world,  the  high  ends  He  seeks  to  serve?  And  as  you  see 
Him  go  to  the  world's  redemption,  have  you  never  thrilled  to  the 
tacit  appeal  to  come  to  the  help  of  the  Lord  against  the  mighty  ? 
You  who  may  be  instead  of  eyes,  can  you  hold  back  ingloriously  ? ' 

The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war, 
A  kingly  crown  to  gain; 
His  blood-red  banner  streams  afar: 
Who  follows  in  His  train? 

•Hugh  Black.  'A.Raleigh.  'Hugh  Black. 

GEN.-NUM. — 25 


Look  and  Livb. 


Literature. 

Aitken  (W.  H.  M.  H.),  Ood's  Everlasting  Yea,  117. 

Banks  (L.  A.),  On  the  Trail  of  Moses,  201. 

Keble  (J.),  Sermons  for  the  Christian  Year,  Holy  Week,  114,  480. 

Mackay  (J.  J.),  Recent  Letters  of  Christ,  156. 

Maclaren  (A.),  Christ's  Musts,  1. 

„  Expositions  :  Exodus,  Leviticua,  Numbers,  362  ;  St.  John 

i.-viii.,  162,  171. 
Macplierson  (W.  M.),  The  Path  of  Life,  105. 
Parker  (J.),  The  City  TevipU  Pulpit,  iv.  12. 
Pearse  (M.  G.),  Moses,  25a 
Price  (A.  C),  Fifty  Sermons,  ix.  169. 
Reid  (J.),  Jesus  and  Nicodemus,  185. 

Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  xxv.  No.  1500. 
Talbot  (E.  S.),  Sermons  in  Leeds  Parish  Church,  147. 
Thome  (H.),  Foreshadowings  of  the  Gospel,  57. 

„         Notable  Sayings  of  the  Great  Teacher,  26. 
Trench  (R.  C),  Sermons  in  Ireland,  228. 
Christian  World  Pulpit,  xx.  237  (Walters). 

Churchman's  Pulpit  (Second  S\inday  after  Easter),  viii.  15  (Caley). 
Preacher's  Magazine,  iv.  (1893)  469. 


Look  and  Live. 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Make  thee  a  6ery  serpent,  and  set  it  upon 
a  standard  :  and  it  shall  come  to  pass,  that  every  one  that  is  bitten,  when  he 
seeth  it,  shall  live.  And  Moses  made  a  serpent  of  brass,  and  set  it  upon  the 
standard  :  and  it  came  to  pass,  that  if  a  serpent  had  bitten  any  man,  when  he 
looked  imto  the  serpent  of  brass,  he  lived. — Num.  xxi.  8,  9. 

[And  as  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the 
Son  of  man  be  lifted  up :  that  whosoever  believeth  may  in  him  have  eternal 
life. — John  iii.  14,  15.] 

1.  While  the  children  of  Israel  were  roaming  homeless  through 
the  wilderness,  their  heart,  we  read,  failed  them  because  of  the 
way,  and,  as  was  their  wont,  they  vented  their  vexation  in  angry 
thoughts  and  rebellious  words  against  God.  On  this  occasion  God 
sent  among  them  judgment  in  the  form  of  fiery  serpents.  The 
bite  of  these  serpents  was  deadly,  so  that  when  a  man  was  once 
bitten  by  their  venomous  fangs  his  life  was  forfeited,  and, 
although  he  did  not  drop  down  dead  on  the  instant,  in  one  sense 
he  was  a  dead  man  already.  What  a  moment  of  agony  and 
terror  it  must  have  been  as  all  around  unfortunate  victims 
were  being  attacked  by  these  messengers  of  death!  In  this 
terrible  emergency  the  people  cried  to  God,  and  in  doing  so 
confessed,  "  We  have  sinned " ;  and  in  answer  to  their  prayer 
Moses  was  instructed  to  make  a  fiery  serpent  of  brass  and  set  it 
on  a  pole,  and  it  should  come  to  pass  that,  if  any  were  bitten  by  a 
fiery  serpent,  on  looking  at  this  they  would  live. 

^  They  did  well,  when  they  came  to  Moses,  and  said,  "  We 
have  sinned,  for  we  have  spoken  against  the  Lord,  and  against 
thee."  So  far  as  I  know,  it  is  the  only  real  expression  of  true 
sorrow  and  willing  confession  which  we  find  in  the  wilderness 
story.  "We  have  sinned."  And  if  so,  it  is  well  worth  while 
for  us  to  notice,  that  this  was  the  occasion  for  God's  giving  to 
them  the  great  sign  of  mercy  to  which  Jesus  Christ  pointed 
a8   a   sign   of  Himself.       So    it    is    that    God    gives    grace   to 


390  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

the   humble,  encouragsB    the   contrite,   is    found   of   those   who 
seek.^ 

2.  Recalling  this  incident  of  Israel,  Jesus  found  in  it  a  type 
and  prophecy  of  Himself.  "  As  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in 
the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up :  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal 
life." 

H  It  is  very  instructive  to  notice  the  New  Testament  use  of 
the  Old  Testament  record  of  Moses.  His  history  and  its  incidents 
are  constantly  referred  to  as  illustrations  and  types  of  Christ. 
St.  Paul  again  and  again  finds  his  illustrations  in  the  life  of 
Moses,  and  much  more  than  illustrations.  Not  with  any 
curious  fancy  is  it  that  his  sturdy  logic  finds  the  materials  for 
two  compact  arguments  in  these  chapters.  The  manna, 
the  rock,  the  veil  on  the  face  of  Moses,  are  all  immediately 
connected  with  Jesus  Christ.  St.  John,  too,  in  the  Book  of 
Revelation,  constantly  finds  here  the  imagery  by  which  he  sets 
forth  the  things  which  are  to  come.  And  the  Church  in  all 
ages  has  found  in  Egypt  and  the  wilderness  journey  to  the 
goodly  land  a  very  Pilgrim's  Progress.  No  type  is  more  familiar, 
no  illustration  more  constant.  The  arrangements  of  Jewish 
worship  are  full  of  predictions  of  Christ — living  pictures  of  our 
salvation.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  the  sacrifice  for  our  sins — the 
Lamb  of  God  which  beareth  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  He 
is  the  Mercy-seat,  as  the  word  propitiation  is  rendered  in  the 
marginal  reference.  He  is  the  High  Priest  who  ever  liveth  to 
make  intercession  for  us,  and  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most all  that  come  to  God  by  Him.* 

^  The  old  is  always  becoming  the  new.  "  As  Moses  ...  so 
the  Son  of  man";  as  the  old,  so  the  new;  as  the  historical, 
so  the  prophetical.  All  the  pattern  of  the  spiritual  temple 
has  been  shown  in  the  mountain,  and  has  been  frayed  out  in 
shapely  and  significant  clouds  which  themselves  were  parables. 
"That  the  Scripture  might  be  fulfilled."  History  always  has 
something  more  to  do  than  it  seems  to  have;  it  does  not  only 
record  the  event  of  the  day,  it  redeems  old  subjects,  old  vows 
and  oaths ;  it  takes  up  what  seems  to  be  the  exhausted  past  and 
turns  it  into  the  present  and  energetic  action  of  the  moment. 
As  Moses,  as  Jonah,  as  Solomon,  as  the  bold  Esaias ;  it  is 
always  a  going-back  upon  the  sacred  past  and  eating  up  the 
food  that  was  there  provided.  Do  not  live  too  much  in  what 
we  call  the  present;  do  not  live  upon  the  bubble  of  the  hour; 

1  K.  S.  Tftlbot  '  V.  O.  PeanM. 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  391 

have  some  city  of  the  mind,  some  far-away  strong  temple- 
sanctuary  made  noble  by  associations  and  memories  of  the 
tenderest  kind.  You  could  easily  be  dislodged  from  some 
sophism  of  yesterday.  If  you  are  living  in  the  little  pro- 
grammes that  were  published  but  last  night  you  have  but  a 
poor  lodgment,  and  to-morrow  you  will  be  found  naked, 
destitute,  and  hungry.  Always  go  back  to  the  "As  Moses,  as 
David,  as  Daniel,  as  Jeremiah,"  and  see  in  every  culminating 
event  a  confirmation  of  this  holy  word — "  that  the  Scripture 
might  be  fulfilled."  The  plan  was  drawn  before  the  building 
was  commenced;  the  specification  was  all  written  out  before 
the  builder  handled  his  hammer  and  his  trowel;  we  do  but 
work  out  old  specifications — old,  but  not  decayed;  old  with 
the  venerableness  of  truth.  See  that  you  stand  upon  a  broad 
rock,  and  do  not  try  to  launch  your  lifeship  upon  a  bubble.^ 

We  have  here — 

I.  A  Pressing  Danger. 

i.  Death  from  the  bite  of  a  Serpent — "  The  Lord  sent  fiery 
serpents  among  the  people,  and  they  bit  the  people ;  and  much 
people  of  Israel  died  "  (Num.  xxi.  6). 

ii.  Perishing  in  Sin — "  might  not  perish  "  (John  iii.  15  A.V. ; 
"  should  not  perish,"  iii.  16). 

II.  A  Way  of  Escape. 

i.  A  Brazen  Serpent  lifted  up  on  a  pole — "Make  thee  a 
fiery  serpent,  and  set  it  upon  a  standard  "  (Num.  xxi.  8). 

ii.  A  Sin-bearer  lifted  up  on  the  Cross — "As  Moses  lifted 
up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of  man 
be  lifted  up  "  (John  iii.  14). 

III.  How  to  use  the  Way  of  Escape. 

i.  Looking  to  the  Serpent — "If  a  serpent  had  bitten  any 
man,  when  he  looked  unto  the  serpent  of  brass,  he  lived" 
(Num.  xxi.  9). 

ii.  Believing  in  the  Sin-bearer — "that  whosoever  believeth 
in  him,"  RV.  "that  whosoever  believeth  may  in  him  have 
eternal  life"  (John  iii.  15). 

IV.  The  Good  Effect. 

i.  Life — "When  he  looked  unto  the  serpent  of  brass,  he 
lived  "  (Num.  xxi.  9). 

•  Joseph  Parker. 


392  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

ii.  Eternal  Life — "  that  whosoever  believeth  may  in  him  have 
eternal  life  "  (John  iil  15). 

L 

A  Pressing  Danger, 

The  danger  is — (i.)  Death  from  the  bite  of  a  serpent  (Num. 
xxi.  6) ;  (ii.)  "  perishing  "  in  sin  (John  iii.  16). 

L  The  Serpent  and  Death. 

1.  The  district  through  which  the  Israelites  were  passing  is 
infested  at  the  present  day  with  venomous  reptiles  of  various 
kinds,  and  this  seems  to  have  been  its  character  in  the  time  of 
Moses.  It  is  impossible  clearly  to  identify  these  "  fiery  serpents  " 
with  any  of  the  several  species  now  known,  or  to  say  why  they 
received  the  appellation  "fiery."  The  name  may  have  been 
given  them  on  account  of  their  colour,  or  their  ferocity,  or, 
inasmuch  as  the  word  is  rendered  "deadly"  in  the  Septuagint, 
and  "burning"  in  some  other  versions,  it  may  indicate  the 
burning  sensation  produced  by  their  bite,  and  its  venomous  and 
fatal  character. 

2.  The  bite  was  fatal.  "  Much  people  died."  It  was  no  light 
affliction  which  was  but  for  a  moment,  a  passing  inconvenience 
that  wore  away  with  time;  no  sickness  was  it  from  which 
prudence  and  care  could  recover  them.  Not  as  when  Paul  shook 
off  his  venomous  beast  into  the  crackling  flames,  and  it  perished 
there.  He  who  was  bitten  died :  old  and  young,  strong  man  and 
frail  woman.  "  Ah,"  said  some  of  those  who  are  always  ready  to 
make  light  of  any  illness  unless  it  is  their  own,  "he  will  get 
over  it ;  he  is  young,  and  he  has  youth  on  his  side."  "  See,"  said 
another,  "  what  a  splendid  constitution  he  has ;  he  will  mend." 
"  Come,"  said  another,  "  we  must  hope  for  the  best."  But  much 
people  died. 

^  In  October,  1852,  Gurling,  one  of  the  keepers  of  the  reptiles 
in  the  Zoological  Gardens,  was  about  to  part  with  a  friend  who 
was  going  to  Australia,  and  according  to  custom  he  must  needs 
drink  with  him.  He  drank  considerable  quantities  of  gin,  and 
although  he  would  probably  have  been  in  a  great  passion  if  any 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  393 

one  had  called  him  drunk,  yet  reason  and  common  sense  had 
evidently  been  overpowered.  He  went  back  to  his  post  at  the 
gardens  in  an  excited  state.  He  had  some  months  before  seen 
an  exhibition  of  snake-charming,  and  this  was  on  his  poor 
muddled  brain.  He  must  emulate  the  Egyptians,  and  play  with 
serpents.  First  he  took  out  of  its  cage  a  Morocco  venom-snake, 
put  it  round  his  neck,  twisted  it  about,  and  whirled  it  round  about 
him.  Happily  for  him  it  did  not  rouse  itself  so  as  to  bite.  The 
assistant-keeper  cried  out,  "  For  God's  sake,  put  back  the  snake," 
but  the  foolish  man  replied,  "  I  am  inspired."  Putting  back  the 
venom-snake,  he  exclaimed,  "  Now  for  the  cobra ! "  This  deadly 
serpent  was  somewhat  torpid  with  the  cold  of  the  previous  night, 
and  therefore  the  rash  man  placed  it  in  his  bosom  till  it  revived, 
and  glided  downward  till  its  head  appeared  below  the  back  of  hia 
waistcoat.  He  took  it  by  the  body,  about  a  foot  from  the  head, 
and  then  seized  it  lower  down  by  the  other  hand,  intending  to 
hold  it  by  the  tail  and  swing  it  round  his  head.  He  held  it  for 
an  instant  opposite  to  his  face,  and  like  a  flash  of  lightning  the 
serpent  struck  him  between  the  eyes.  The  blood  streamed  down 
his  face,  and  he  called  for  help,  but  his  companion  fled  in  horror ; 
and,  as  he  told  the  jury,  he  did  not  know  how  long  he  was  gone, 
for  he  was  "  in  a  maze."  When  assistance  arrived,  Gurling  was 
sitting  on  a  chair,  having  restored  the  cobra  to  its  place.  He  said, 
"  I  am  a  dead  man."  They  put  him  in  a  cab,  and  took  him  to 
the  hospital.  First  his  speech  went,  he  could  only  point  to  his 
poor  throat  and  moan ;  then  his  vision  failed  him,  and  lastly  his 
hearing.  His  pulse  gradually  sank,  and  in  one  hour  from  the 
time  at  which  he  had  been  struck  he  was  a  corpse.  There  was 
only  a  little  mark  upon  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  but  the  poison 
spread  over  the  body,  and  he  was  a  dead  man.^ 

ii.  Sin  and  Perishing. 

1.  The  bite  of  these  serpents  was  mortal  The  Israelites 
could  have  no  question  about  that,  because  in  their  own  presence 
"  much  people  of  Israel  died."  They  saw  their  own  friends  die 
of  the  snake-bite,  and  they  helped  to  bury  them.  They  knew 
why  they  died,  and  were  sure  that  it  was  because  the  venom 
of  the  fiery  serpents  was  in  their  veins.  They  were  left  almost 
without  an  excuse  for  imagining  that  they  could  be  bitten  and 
yet  live.  Now,  we  know  that  many  have  perished  as  the  result 
of  sin.     We  are  not  in  doubt  as  to  what  sin  will  do,  for  we  are 

'  0.  H.  Spurgeon. 


394  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

told  by  the  infallible  Word,  that  "  the  wages  of  sin  is  death,"  and, 
yet  again,  "  sin,  when  it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth  death." 

IT  Sin  can  have  but  one  ending — death — death — death.  The 
Boul  that  ainneth  it  shall  die,  so  rings  the  warning  of  God.  How 
foolishly  we  talk  of  it !  When  it  is  the  child,  we  say,  "  He  is 
young,  and  will  grow  better."  When  it  is  the  youth,  we  say, 
"  Let  him  sow  his  wild  oats,  and  he  will  settle  down."  Ah,  what 
cruel  folly  !  What  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.  When 
it  is  middle  age,  we  say,  "  Yes,  it  is  very  sad,  but  he  has  a  great 
many  good  points,  you  know."  And  when  he  is  an  old  man  and 
dies,  we  say,  "  Well,  we  must  hope  for  the  best."  And  in  upon 
this  Babel  there  comes  the  terrible  note  of  doom :  The  wages  of 
sin  is  death.i 

2.  Is  it  always  immediate  ?  Not  always.  May  we  not  play 
with  the  serpent  ?  We  may  not.  Are  there  not  moments  when 
the  cruel  beast  is  not  cruel  ?  Not  one.  The  sandwasp  paralyses 
the  beetle  with  his  sting  that  he  may,  and  that  his  progeny  may, 
profit  by  the  paralysis.  The  sandwasp  does  not  kill  the  insect, 
but  thrusts  a  sting  into  him,  not  fatally ;  the  insect  can  still  lay 
eggs  for  the  advantage  of  the  progeny  of  the  sandwasp.  It  is  so 
with  many  serpentine  tricks ;  we  are  paralysed  to  be  used,  not 
to-day,  but  to  be  eaten  in  six  months.  We  are  so  paralysed  that 
we  will  do  this  or  do  that  and  have  joy  in  it  and  have  a  banquet 
over  it,  ay,  a  foaming  tankard  of  wine  that  froths  out  its  own 
mocking  laugh.  It  is  the  sting  of  the  sandwasp;  it  has  thrust 
in  that  venomous  sting  and  hung  us  up  for  the  next  meeting, 
for  the  next  occasion,  just  before  the  bankruptcy  comes,  and 
the  devouring  of  our  very  soul  by  those  whom  we  have 
wronged. 

^  The  worst  consequences  of  sin  are  sin  itself,  more  sin.  Drink 
and  lust  mean  stronger  passion,  more  ungovernable  desire.  Anger 
and  temper  mean  as  their  consequence  a  heart  more  bitter,  more 
ready  for  more  wrath.  Selfish  ways  mean  less  power  even  to  see 
when  we  are  selfish  or  what  selfishness  is.  Yes,  and  not  only  is 
there  deepening  of  the  same  sin,  but  other  sins  are  bred  from  it ; 
cruelty,  even  murderous,  out  of  lust  and  drink ;  cruelty,  too,  out 
of  selfishness;  lying  and  slander  out  of  the  hot  heart  and  un- 
governed  life  of  auger.  So  it  goes :  sin  breeding  sin,  sin  deepen- 
ing into  more  sin.* 

^  It  is  necessary  to  be  ever  vigilant,  and,  always  looking  on  a 

»  M.  G.  Pearae.  •  £.  S.  TalboU 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  395 

trifling  sin  as  one  of  magnitude,  to  flee  far  from  it ;  because 
if  the  virtuous  deeds  exceed  the  sinful  acts  by  even  the  point  of 
one  of  the  hairs  of  the  eyelashes,  the  spirit  goes  to  Paradise ;  but 
should  the  contrary  be  the  case,  it  descends  to  hell.^ 

3.  What  was  the  sin  the  Israelites  were  guilty  of  ? 

(1)  The  fiery  serpents  came  among  the  people  because  they 
had  despised  God's  way.  "  The  soul  of  the  people  was  much  dis- 
couraged because  of  the  way."  It  was  God's  way  ;  He  had  chosen 
it  for  them,  and  He  had  chosen  it  in  wisdom  and  mercy,  but 
they  murmured  at  it.  As  an  old  divine  says,  "  It  was  lone- 
some and  longsome  " ;  but  still  it  was  God's  way,  and  therefore 
it  ought  not  to  have  been  loathsome.  His  pillar  of  fire  and 
cloud  went  before  them,  and  His  servants  Moses  and  Aaron  led 
them  like  a  flock,  and  they  ought  to  have  followed  cheerfully. 
Every  step  of  their  previous  journey  had  been  rightly  ordered, 
and  they  ought  to  have  been  quite  sure  that  this  compassing  of 
the  land  of  Edom  was  rightly  ordered  too.  But,  no;  they 
quarrelled  with  God's  way,  and  wanted  to  have  their  own  way. 
This  is  one  of  the  great  standing  follies  of  men ;  they  cannot 
be  content  to  wait  on  the  Lord  and  keep  His  way,  but  prefer 
a  will  and  a  way  of  their  own. 

(2)  The  people  also  quarrelled  vnth  God's  food.  He  gave  them 
the  best  of  the  best,  for  "  men  did  eat  angels'  food " ;  but  they 
called  the  manna  by  an  opprobrious  title,  which  in  the  Hebrew 
has  a  sound  of  ridicule  about  it,  and  even  in  our  translation 
conveys  the  idea  of  contempt.  They  said,  "Our  soul  loatheth 
this  light  bread,"  as  if  they  thought  it  imsubstantial,  and  only 
fitted  to  puff  them  out,  because  it  was  easy  of  digestion,  and  did 
not  breed  in  them  that  heat  of  blood  and  tendency  to  disease 
which  a  heavier  diet  would  have  brought  with  it.  Being  dis- 
contented with  their  God  they  quarrelled  with  the  bread  which 
He  set  upon  their  table.  This  is  another  of  man's  folHes;  his 
heart  refuses  to  feed  upon  God's  Word  or  beheve  God's  truth. 
He  craves  the  flesh-meat  of  carnal  reason,  the  leeks  and  the 
garlic  of  superstitious  tradition,  and  the  cucumbers  of  specula- 
tion ;  he  cannot  bring  his  mind  down  to  believe  the  Word  of  God, 
or  to  accept  truth  so  simple,  so  fitted  to  the  capacity  of  a  child. 

»   "Th»  Dahi»t*n  "  ia  Field'i  Book  of  EcmUm.  Wisdom,  121, 


396  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

n. 

A  Way  of  Escape. 

The  way  is — (i.)  a  brazen  serpent  lifted  up  on  a  pole ;  (ii.)  a 
Sin-bearer  lifted  up  on  the  cross. 

L  The  Brazen  Serpent 

1.  The  command  to  make  a  brazen  or  copper  serpent,  and  set  it 
on  some  conspicuous  place,  that  to  look  on  it  might  stay  the  effect 
of  the  poison,  is  remarkable,  not  only  as  sanctioning  the  forming 
of  an  image,  but  as  associating  healing  power  with  a  material 
object.  Two  questions  must  be  considered  separately — What  did 
the  method  of  cure  say  to  the  men  who  turned  their  bloodshot, 
languid  eyes  to  it  ?  and  What  does  it  mean  for  us,  who  see  it  by 
the  light  of  our  Lord's  great  words  about  it  ?  As  to  the  former 
question,  we  have  not  to  take  into  account  the  Old  Testament 
symbolism  which  makes  the  serpent  the  emblem  of  Satan  or  of 
sin.  Serpents  had  bitten  the  wounded.  Here  was  one  like  them, 
but  without  poison,  hanging  harmless  on  the  pole.  Surely  that 
would  declare  that  God  had  rendered  innocuous  the  else  fatal 
creatures. 

^  That  to  which  they  were  to  look  was  to  be  a  serpent,  but  it 
was  to  be  a  serpent  triumphed  over,  as  it  were,  not  triumphing, 
and  held  up  to  view  and  exhibited  as  a  trophy.  Around  on  every 
side  the  serpents  are  victorious,  and  the  people  are  dying. 
Here  the  serpent  is  represented  as  conquered  and,  we  may  say, 
made  a  spectacle  of,  and  the  people  who  see  it  live.  Strong  were 
the  serpents  in  their  power  of  death,  but  stronger  was  G-od  in 
His  omnipotence  of  life,  and  the  life  triumphed. 

^  The  sight  of  the  brazen  serpent  was  as  though  God's  spear 
had  pierced  the  plague,  and  held  it  aloft  before  their  eyes,  a 
vanquished,  broken  thing.  It  was  not  one  of  the  serpents ;  it 
was  an  image  of  all  and  any  of  them ;  it  was  the  whole  serpent 
curse  and  plague  in  effigy.^ 

2.  How  could  a  cure  be  wrought  through  merely  looking  at 
twisted  brass  ?  It  seemed,  indeed,  to  be  almost  a  mockery  to  bid 
men  look  at  the  very  thing  which  had  caused  their  misery. 
Shall  the  bite  of  a  serpent  be  cured  by  looking  at  a  serpent  ? 

'  R.  S.  Talbol 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  397 

Shall  that  which  brings  death  also  bring  life?  But  herein  lay 
the  excellency  of  the  remedy,  that  it  was  of  divine  origin ;  for 
when  God  ordains  a  cure  He  is  by  that  very  fact  bound  to  put 
potency  into  it.  He  will  not  devise  a  failure  or  prescribe  a 
mockery.  It  should  always  be  enough  for  us  to  know  that  God 
ordains  a  way  of  blessing  us,  for  if  He  ordains,  it  must  accomplish 
the  promised  result.  We  need  not  know  how  it  will  work,  it  is 
quite  sufficient  for  us  that  God's  mighty  grace  is  pledged  to 
make  it  bring  forth  good  to  our  souls. 

tL  The  Sin-bearer. 

1.  It  is  strange  that  the  same  which  hurt  should  also  heal ; 
that  from  a  serpent  should  come  the  poison,  and  from  a  serpent 
the  antidote  of  the  poison;  the  same  inflicting  the  wound,  and 
being  in  God's  ordinance  appointed  for  the  healing  of  the  wound. 
The  history  would  sound  a  strange  one,  and  would  suggest  some 
underlying  mystery,  even  if  it  stood  alone,  with  no  after- word  of 
Scripture  claiming  a  special  significance  for  it.  But  it  is  stranger 
and  more  mysterious  still  when  we  come  to  the  Lord's  appropria- 
tion of  it  to  Himself.  The  Son  of  Man,  healer  and  helper  of  the 
lost  race  whose  nature  He  took,  compared  to  a  serpent!  Of 
what  is  the  serpent  the  figure  everywhere  else  in  Scripture? 
Not  of  Christ,  but  of  Christ's  chiefest  enemy ;  of  the  author  of 
death,  not  of  the  Prince  of  life.  Disguised  in  a  serpent's  form,  he 
won  his  first  success,  and  poisoned  at  the  fountain-head  the  life  of 
all  our  race.  His  name  is  "  the  Old  Serpent " ;  while  the  wicked 
are  a  "serpent  seed,"  a  "generation  of  vipers,"  as  being  in  a 
manner  born  of  him.  Strange  therefore  and  most  perplexing  it 
is  to  find  the  whole  symbolism  of  Scripture  on  this  one  occasion 
reversed,  and  Christ,  not  Satan,  likened  to  the  serpent. 

There  is  only  one  explanation  which  reaUy  meets  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  case.  In  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  to  the  effect  that 
Grod  sent  "  His  own  Son  *»  the  likeness  of  sinfvl  flesh,  and  for  sin," 
we  have  the  key  to  the  whole  mystery. 

2.  The  "sign  of  salvation,"  as  it  is  called  in  the  Book  of 
Wisdom,  which  Moses  was  commanded  of  God  to  make,  was  at 
once  most  like  the  serpents  which  hurt  the  people,  and  also  most 
unlike  them ;  most  like  in  appearance,  most  unlike  in  reality.     In 


398  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

outward  appearance  it  was  most  like,  and  doubtless  was  fashioned 
of  copper  or  shining  brass  that  it  might  resemble  their  fiery 
aspect  the  more  closely ;  but  in  reality  it  was  most  unlike  them, 
being,  in  the  very  necessities  of  its  nature,  harmless  and  with- 
out venom ;  while  they  were  most  harmful,  filled  with  deadliest 
poison.  And  thus  it  came  to  pass  that  the  thing  which  most 
resembled  the  serpents  that  had  hurt  them,  the  thing  therefore 
which  they,  the  Israelites,  must  have  been  disposed  to  look  at 
with  the  most  shuddering  abhorrence,  was  yet  appointed  of  God 
as  the  salve,  remedy,  medicine,  and  antidote  of  all  their  hurts ; 
and  approved  itself  as  such ;  for  "  it  came  to  pass  that  if  a  serpent 
had  bitten  any  man,  when  he  beheld  the  serpent  of  brass,  he 
lived."  Unlikely  remedy,  and  yet  most  effectual !  And  exactly 
thus  it  befell  in  that  great  apparent  paradox,  that  "  foolishness 
of  God,"  the  plan  of  our  salvation.  As  a  serpent  hurt  and  a 
serpent  healed,  so  in  like  manner,  as  by  man  came  death,  by  man 
should  come  also  the  resurrection  from  the  dead ;  as  by  "  one 
man's  disobedience  many  were  made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience 
of  one  should  many  be  made  righteous";  "as  in  Adam  all  die, 
even  so  in  Christ,"  the  second  Adam,  '*  shall  all  be  made  alive." 

3.  That  serpent,  so  like  in  many  points  to  those  which  hurt 
the  people,  so  like  in  colour,  in  form,  in  outward  show,  was  yet 
unlike  in  one,  and  that  the  most  essential  point  of  all — in  this, 
namely,  that  it  was  not  poisonous,  as  they  were ;  that  there  was 
no  harm  or  hurt  in  it,  as  there  was  in  them.  Exactly  so  the 
resemblance  of  Christ  to  His  fellow-men,  most  real  in  many 
things,  for  He  was  "found  in  fashion  as  a  man,"  hungered, 
thirsted,  was  weary,  was  tempted,  suffered,  died  like  other  men, 
was  yet  in  one  point,  and  that  the  most  essential,  only  apparent. 
He  only  seemed  to  have  that  poison  which  they  really  had. 
Wearing  the  sinner's  likeness,  for  He  came  "  in  the  likeness  of 
sinful  flesh,"  bearing  the  sinner's  doom,  "His  face  was  more 
marred  than  any  man's,"  He  was  yet  "  holy,  harmless,  undefiled, 
separate  from  sinners " ;  altogether  clear  from  every  spot,  taint, 
and  infection  of  our  fallen  nature.  What  was,  and  indeed  could 
only  be,  negative  in  a  dead  thing,  such  as  that  brazen  serpent, 
the  poor  type  and  weak  figure  of  the  true,  namely,  the  absence 
of  the  venom,  this  was  positive  in  Him,  as  the  presence  of  the 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  399 

antidote.  And  thus  out  of  this  Man's  curse  came  every  man's 
blessing,  out  of  this  Man's  death  came  every  other  man's  life. 

^  My  predecessor,  Dr.  Gill,  edited  the  works  of  Tobias  Crisp, 
but  Tobias  Crisp  went  further  than  Dr.  Gill  or  any  of  us  can 
approve ;  for  in  one  place  Crisp  calls  Christ  a  sinner,  though  he 
does  not  mean  that  He  ever  sinned  Himself.  He  actually  calls 
Christ  a  transgressor,  and  justifies  himself  by  that  passage,  "  He 
was  numbered  with  the  transgressors."  Martin  Luther  is  reputed 
to  have  broadly  said  that,  although  Jesus  Christ  was  sinless,  yet 
He  was  the  greatest  sinner  that  ever  lived,  because  all  the  sins  of 
His  people  lay  upon  Him.  Now,  such  expressions  I  think  to  be 
unguarded,  if  not  profane.  Certainly  Christian  men  should  take 
care  that  they  use  not  language  which,  by  the  ignorant  and  un- 
instructed,  may  be  translated  to  mean  what  they  never  intended 
to  teach.^ 

^  There  is  a  text  (2  Cor.  v.  21)  which  tells  us  that  He  "  knew 
no  sin."  That  is  very  beautiful  and  significant — "  who  knew  no 
sin."  It  does  not  merely  say  did  none,  but  knew  none.  Sin  was 
no  acquaintance  of  His ;  He  was  acquainted  with  grief,  but  no 
acquaintance  of  sin.  He  had  to  walk  in  the  midst  of  its  most 
frequented  haunts,  but  did  not  know  it ;  not  that  He  was  ignorant 
of  its  nature,  or  did  not  know  its  penalty,  but  He  did  not  knx)w  it , 
he  was  a  stranger  to  it,  He  never  gave  it  the  wink  or  nod  of 
familiar  recognition.  Of  course  He  knew  what  sin  was,  for  He 
was  very  God,  but  with  sin  He  had  no  communion,  no  fellowship, 
no  brotherhood.  He  was  a  perfect  stranger  in  the  presence  of 
sin ;  He  was  a  foreigner  ;  He  was  not  an  inhabitant  of  that  land 
where  sin  is  acknowledged.  He  passed  through  the  wilderness  of 
suffering,  but  into  the  wilderness  of  sin  He  could  never  go.  "  He 
kfiew  no  sin  " ;  mark  that  expression  and  treasure  it  up,  and  when 
you  are  thinking  of  your  substitute,  and  see  Him  hang  bleeding 
upon  the  Cross,  think  that  you  see  written  in  those  lines  of  blood 
traced  along  His  blessed  body,  "He  knew  no  sin,"  Mingled 
with  the  redness  of  His  blood  (that  Eose  of  Sharon),  behold  the 
purity  of  His  nature  (the  Lily  of  the  Valley) — "He  knew  no 
8in."« 

4.  The  Serpent  and  the  Sin-bearer  were  "lifted  up."  The 
elevation  of  the  serpent  was  simply  intended  to  make  it  visible 
from  afar ;  but  it  could  not  have  been  set  so  high  as  to  be  seen 
from  all  parts  of  the  camp,  and  we  must  suppose  that  the  wounded 
were  in  many  cases  carried  from  the  distant  parts  of  the  wide- 
1 0.  H.  Spurgeon.  ■  Ihid. 


400  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

spreading  encampment  to  places  whence  they  could  catch  a 
glimpse  of  it  glittering  in  the  sunshine. 

^  Of  the  meaning  of  this  there  cannot  well  be  any  mistake. 
It  denotes  the  lifting  up  of  our  Lord  on  the  Cross  ;  as  St.  John,  in 
another  place,  tells  us,  that  when  He  said  to  the  Pharisees,  "  I,  if 
I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me,"  He 
spoke,  '  signifying  by  what  death  he  should  die."  He  did  not 
mean  merely  that  His  Name  should  be  preached  in  all  the  world, 
and  made  thoroughly  known  as  the  only  way  of  salvation ;  He 
meant  that  He  should  be  really  and  bodily  lifted  up.  He  meant 
His  nailing  to  the  Cross,  and  then  the  setting  of  the  Cross  upright 
in  the  earth.  By  this  He  became,  more  especially,  the  "  scorn  of 
men,  and  the  outcast  of  the  people."  ^ 

^  It  is  the  lifting  up  that  is  the  chief  point  in  the  comparison. 
The  word  is  mentioned  twice — "  As  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent, 
even  so  must  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up."  To  Jesus,  and  to 
John  as  taught  by  Him,  the  "  lifting  up  "  was  doubly  significant. 
It  meant  death  upon  the  Cross,  but  it  also  suggested  the  beginning 
of  His  exaltation.  As  the  serpent  was  lifted  up  so  that  it  might 
be  seen,  we  are  compelled  to  adopt  the  same  reason  for  the  lifting 
up  of  the  Son  of  Man.  It  is  a  marvellous  thought,  an  amazing 
foresight.  The  death  which  was  intended  to  consign  Him  and 
His  teaching  to  oblivion  was  the  means  by  which  attention  was 
directed  to  them.  That  which  was  to  make  Him  "  accursed " 
became  the  means  by  which  He  entered  into  His  glory.  His 
name  was  not  obscured,  but  was  exalted  above  all  other  names  by 
the  shame  which  men  put  upon  it.  The  crucifixion  was  the  first 
step  of  exaltation,  the  beginning  of  a  higher  stage  of  revelation.* 

I  feel  a  need  divine 
That  meeteth  need  of  mine; 
No  rigid  fate  I  meet,  no  law  austere. 

I  see  my  God,  who  turns 
And  o'er  His  creature  yearns: 
Upon  the  cross  God  gives  and  claims  the  tear.' 

III. 

The  Acceptance  of  the  Offer  of  Escape. 

The  offer  of  escape  is  accepted — (i.)  by  looking  to  the  brazen 

serpent ;  (ii.)  by  believing  in  the  Sin-bearer. 

'  John  Eeble.  *  John  Beid. 

'  Dora  Greenwell,  Carmina  Crueis. 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8.  9  401 

i.  Looking  to  the  Serpent. 

1.  We  are  not  told  that  trust  in  God  was  an  essential  part 
of  the  look,  but  that  is  taken  for  granted.  Why  else  should  a 
half -dead  man  lift  his  eyelids  to  look?  Such  a  one  knew  that 
God  had  commanded  the  image  to  be  made,  and  had  promised 
healing  for  a  look.  His  gaze  was  fixed  on  it,  in  obedience  to  the 
command  involved  in  the  promise,  and  was,  in  some  measure,  a 
manifestation  of  faith.  No  doubt  the  faith  was  very  imperfect, 
and  the  desire  was  only  for  physical  healing ;  but  none  the  less 
it  had  in  it  the  essence  of  faith.  It  would  have  been  too  hard 
a  requirement  for  men  through  whose  veins  the  swift  poison  was 
burning  its  way,  and  who,  at  the  best,  were  so  little  capable  of 
rising  above  sense,  to  have  asked  from  them,  as  the  condition  of 
their  cure,  a  trust  which  had  no  external  symbol  to  help  it.  The 
singularity  of  the  method  adopted  witnesses  to  the  graciousness 
of  God,  who  gave  their  feebleness  a  thing  to  look  at,  in  order 
to  aid  them  in  grasping  the  unseen  power  which  really  effected 
the  cure.  "He  that  hath  turned  himself  to  it,"  says  the  Book 
of  Wisdom,  "  was  not  saved  by  the  thing  which  he  saw,  but  by 
thee,  that  art  the  Saviour  of  all." 

^  They  would  try  all  their  own  remedies  before  they  turned 
to  the  Lord.  I  can  think  that  none  would  be  so  busy  as  the 
charmers.  Amongst  them  would  be  some  who  knew  the  secrets 
of  the  Egyptian  snake-charmers.  In  the  "mixed  multitude" 
may  have  been  the  professional  charmer,  boasting  a  descenit 
which  could  not  fail  in  its  authority.  And  they  come  bringing 
assured  remedies.  There  is  the  music  that  can  charm  the  serpent, 
and  destroy  the  poison.  There  is  the  mystic  sign  set  around  the 
place  that  made  it  sacred.  There  are  mysterious  magic  amulets 
to  be  worn  for  safety ;  this  on  the  neck,  and  this  about  the  wrist. 
There  is  a  ceremony  that  shall  hold  the  serpent  spellbound  and 
powerless.  But  come  hither.  Lift  up  this  curtain.  See  here 
one  lies  on  the  ground.  "He  sleeps."  Nay,  indeed,  he  will 
never  wake  again.  Why,  it  is  the  charmer.  Here  are  the  spells 
and  the  charms  and  the  mystic  signs  all  around  him.  And  lo ! 
there  glides  the  serpent ;  the  charmer  himself  is  dead.^ 

2.  We  can  imagine  that  when  that  brazen  serpent  was  lifted 
up  in   the   wilderness,  there  were   some   bitten   by  those  fiery 

^  M.  G.  Pearse. 
GSN.-NUM. — 26 


402  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

serpents  who  refused  to  look  at  this  exalted  sign  of  salvation, 
and  so  perished  after  all. 

We  may  imagine,  for  instance,  a  wounded  Israelite  saying, 
"  I  do  not  believe  this  hurt  of  mine  to  be  deadly.  If  some  have 
died  of  the  same,  yet  this  is  no  reason  why  all  should  die.  Surely 
there  are  natural  remedies,  herbs,  or  salves  which  the  desert 
itself  will  supply,  by  whose  aid  I  can  restore  health  to  myself." 

We  can  imagine  another  Israelite  running  into  an  opposite 
extreme,  not  slighting  his  hurt,  but  saying  on  the  contrary, 
"  My  wound  is  too  deadly  for  any  remedy  to  avail  for  its  cure. 
Thousands  who  have  been  bitten  have  already  died,  their 
carcases  strew  the  wilderness.  I  too  must  die.  Some,  indeed, 
may  have  been  healed  by  looking  at  that  serpent  lifted  up,  but 
none  who  were  so  deeply  hurt  as  I  am,  none  into  whose  frame 
that  poison  had  penetrated  so  far,  had  circulated  so  long ; "  and 
so  he  may  have  turned  away  his  face,  and  despaired,  and  died ; 
and  as  the  other  perished  by  thinking  lightly  of  the  hurt,  this 
will  have  perished  by  thinking  lightly  of  the  remedy,  as  fatal, 
if  not  as  frequent,  an  error. 

Can  we  not  imagine  one  of  the  Israelites  demanding,  in  a 
moodier  and  more  sullen  discontent,  "  Why  were  these  serpents 
sent  at  all?  Why  was  I  exposed  to  injury  by  them?  Now, 
indeed,  after  I  am  hurt,  a  remedy  is  proposed ;  why  was  not  the 
hurt  itself  hindered  ? "  Translate  these  murmurings  into  the 
language  of  the  modern  world,  and  you  will  recognize  in  others, 
perhaps  at  times  in  yourself,  the  same  displeasure  against  God's 
plan  of  salvation.  "Why  should  this  redemption  have  been 
needful  at  all  ?  Why  waa  I  framed  so  obvious  to  temptation,  so 
liable  to  sin  ?  I  will  not  fall  in  with  His  plan  for  counterworking 
the  evil  which  He  has  wrought.  Let  Him,  who  is  its  true  author, 
answer  for  it."  We  all  know  more  or  less  of  this  temptation, 
this  anger,  not  against  ourselves,  but  against  God,  that  we  should 
be  the  sinners  which  we  are,  this  discontent  with  the  scheme  of 
restoration  which  He  has  provided.  But  what  is  this  after  all 
but  an  angry  putting  of  that  question,  older  than  this  world  of 
ours,  "Why  is  there  any  evil,  and  whence?" — a  mystery  none 
have  searched  out  or  can  search  out  here.  This  only  is  sure,  that 
"  God  is  light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at  all " ;  and  of  the  evil 
in  the  world,  that  it  is  against  His  will ;  of  the  evil  in  us,  that 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  403 

He  is  on  our  side  in   all  our  struggles   to   subdue    and  cast 
it  oufc. 

ii.  Believing  in  the  Sin-bearer. 

1.  The  brazen  serpent  was  to  be  looked  upon.  The  wounded 
persons  were  to  turn  their  eyes  towards  it,  and  so  to  be  healed. 
So  Christ,  lifted  up  on  the  Cross,  is  to  be  believed  on,  to  be  looked 
upon  with  the  eyes  of  our  heart.  "  The  Son  of  man  "  is  "  lifted 
up,  that  whosoever  belie veth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life."  "  The  Law  could  not  save  us,  in  that  it  was 
weak  through  the  flesh";  through  the  corruption  of  our  fallen 
nature,  for  which  it  provided  no  cure.  It  could  but  point  to 
Him  who  is  our  cure,  as  Moses  did  to  the  brazen  serpent.  It 
could  not  justify  us,  it  could  only  bring  us  to  Christ,  that  we 
might  be  justified  by  faith.  Justification  by  faith  is  that  which 
was  betokened  by  the  healing  of  the  Israelites  when  they  looked 
up  to  the  serpent.  It  justifies,  because  it  brings  us  to  Him,  with 
whom  to  be  united  is  to  be  justified;  that  is,  to  be  forgiven 
and  saved  from  this  evil  world,  to  be  clothed  with  heavenly 
righteousness. 

2.  Trust  is  no  arbitrary  condition.  The  Israelite  was  told 
to  turn  to  the  brazen  serpent.  There  was  no  connexion 
between  his  look  and  his  healing,  except  in  so  far  as  the  symbol 
was  a  help  to,  and  looking  at  it  was  a  test  of,  his  faith  in  the 
healing  power  of  God.  But  it  is  no  arbitrary  appointment,  as 
many  people  often  think  it  is,  which  connects  inseparably  to- 
gether the  look  of  faith  and  the  eternal  life  that  Christ  gives. 
For  seeing  that  salvation  is  no  mere  external  gift  of  shutting  up 
some  outward  Hell  and  opening  the  door  to  some  outward 
Heaven,  but  is  a  state  of  heart  and  mind,  of  relation  to  God,  the 
only  way  by  which  that  salvation  can  come  into  a  man's  heart 
is  that  he,  knowing  his  need  of  it,  shall  trust  Christ,  and  through 
Him  the  new  life  will  flow  into  his  heart.  Faith  is  trust,  and 
trust  is  the  stretching  out  of  the  hand  to  take  the  precious  gift, 
the  opening  of  the  heart  for  the  influx  of  the  grace,  the  eating 
of  the  bread,  the  drinking  of  the  water,  of  life. 

■[1  Looking  at  Jesus — what  does  it  mean  practically  ?  It 
means  hearing  about  Him  first,  then  actually  appealing  to  Him, 
accepting  His  word  as  personal  to  one's  self,  putting  Him  to  the 


404  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

best  in  life,  trusting  His  death  to  square  up  one's  sin  score,  trust- 
ing His  power  to  clean  the  heart  and  sweeten  the  spirit  and 
stiffen  the  will.  It  means  holding  the  whole  life  up  to  His  ideals. 
Ay,  it  means  more  yet;  something  on  His  side,  an  answering 
look  from  Him.  There  comes  a  consciousness  within  of  His  love 
and  winsomeness.  That  answering  look  of  His  holds  us  for  ever 
after  His  willing  slaves,  love's  slaves.  Paul  speaks  of  the  eyes 
of  the  heart.  It  is  with  these  eyes  we  look  to  Him,  and  receive 
His  answering  look.^ 

^  Faith  is  the  keynote  of  the  Gospel  by  John.  The  very 
purpose  for  which  this  Gospel  was  written  was  that  men  might 
believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  believing  they 
might  have  life  through  His  name  (John  xx.  31).  This  purpose 
is  everywhere  its  predominant  feature.  From  the  announcement 
that  John  the  Baptist  was  sent  "  that  all  men  through  him  might 
believe "  (John  i.  7)  to  the  confident  assurance  with  which  the 
beloved  disciple  makes  the  declaration  that  he  knows  his  testi- 
mony is  true  (John  xii.  24),  the  Gospel  of  John  is  one  long 
argument,  conceived  with  the  evident  intention  of  inducing  men 
to  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Saviour  of  all 
who  trust  in  Him.  The  word  "  believe "  occurs  in  this  Gospel 
no  fewer  than  ninety-eight  times,  and  either  that  or  some  cognate 
word  is  to  be  found  in  every  chapter.* 

^  A  woman  who  was  always  looking  within  herself,  and  could 
not  reach  assurance  and  peace,  was  told  she  must  look  out  and 
up.  Yet  light  did  not  come.  One  night  she  dreamed  that  she 
was  in  a  pit  which  was  deep,  dark,  and  dirty.  There  was  no  way 
of  escape — no  door,  no  ladder,  no  steps,  no  rope.  Looking  right 
overhead  she  saw  a  little  bit  of  blue  sky,  and  in  it  one  star. 
While  gazing  at  the  star  she  began  to  rise  inch  by  inch  in  the 
pit.  Then  she  cried  out,  "  Who  is  lifting  me  ? "  and  she  looked 
down  to  see.  But  the  moment  she  looked  down  she  was  back 
again  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit.  Again  she  looked  up,  saw  the 
star,  and  began  to  rise.  Again  she  looked  down  to  see  who  or 
what  was  lifting  her,  and  again  she  found  herself  at  the  bottom. 
Resolving  not  to  look  down  again,  she  for  the  third  time  gazed 
at  the  star.  Little  by  little  she  rose ;  tempted  to  look  down,  she 
resisted  the  desire ;  higher  and  higher  she  ascended,  with  her  eyes 
on  the  star,  till  at  last  she  was  out  of  the  pit  altogether.  Then 
she  awoke,  and  said,  "  I  see  it  all  now.  I  am  not  to  look  down 
or  within,  but  out  and  up  to  the  Bright  and  Morning  Star,  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ."  ^ 

»  8.  D.  Gordon,  Quiet  Talks  on  Screice,  16.  '  H.  Thorue. 

*  J.  J.  Mackay. 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  405 

IV. 

The  Good  Effect. 

The  effect  is — (i.)  life :  "  when  he  looked  unto  the  serpent  of 
brass,  he  lived  " ;  (ii.)  eternal  life :  "  that  whosoever  believeth  may 
in  him  have  eternal  life." 

I.  Life. 

It  does  not  seem  possible  that  so  great  a  thing  as  life  should 
depend  upon  so  small  a  thing  as  a  look.  But  life  often  depends 
on  a  look.  A  traveller  was  once  walking  over  a  mountain-road ; 
it  grew  quite  dark,  and  he  lost  his  way.  Then  a  thunderstorm 
came  on,  and  he  made  all  the  haste  he  could  to  try  to  find  some 
shelter.  A  flash  of  lightning  showed  just  for  a  moment  where 
he  was  going.  He  was  on  the  very  edge  of  a  precipice.  The  one 
look  that  the  lightning  enabled  him  to  take  saved  his  life.  A 
few  weeks  ago  I  was  in  a  train  after  it  was  dark.  The  signal  was 
put  "all  right,"  and  the  train  started.  We  had  gone  a  few 
hundred  yards,  when  I  heard  the  whistle  sound  very  sharply,  and 
soon  the  train  stopped.  Some  one  had  shown  the  engine-driver 
a  red  light,  and  warned  him  of  danger.  It  turned  out  that  one 
of  the  chains  by  which  the  carriages  were  coupled  together  had 
broken.  If  the  man  who  saw  the  broken  chain  had  not  looked^ 
and  if  the  engine-driver  had  not  looked  and  so  seen  the  red  light, 
most  likely  many  lives  would  have  been  lost.  Here,  again,  life 
depended  upon  a  look. 

IT  The  wounded  Israelite  was  in  one  sense  dead  already,  his 
life  was  forfeit  as  soon  as  he  was  bitten ;  it  follows  that  the 
new  life  infused  by  a  look  at  the  brazen  serpent  was  miraculous 
in  its  character.  What  have  we  here  but  a  striking  figure  of 
death  and  resurrection  ?  Not  by  any  natural  process  of  improve- 
ment or  gradual  restoration  was  the  death-stricken  Israelite 
rescued  from  his  fate,  but  by  the  direct  and  supernatural  inter- 
vention of  Him  who  was  even  then,  as  He  is  still,  the  resurrection 
and  the  life,  in  whom  whosoever  believes  lives  though  he  were 
dead.^ 

ii.  Eternal  Life. 

1.  Our  Lord  said,  "  Ye  must  be  born  again,"  and  Nicodemus 
answered,  "How  can   a  man   be  bom  again  when  he  is  old?" 
'  W.  H.  M.  H.  Aitk»tt. 


4o6  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

Our  Lord  replied  by  telling  him  something  more.  A  man  necJf 
to  be  born  not  only  outwardly  of  water,  but  inwardly  of  the 
Spirit,  and  when  he  is  so  born  he  will  be  as  free  as  the  wind — from 
legal  bondage — from  the  tyranny  of  sin.  And  to  this  Nicodemus 
replied  by  asking  yet  more  impatiently,  "  How  can  these  things 
be  ? "  The  answer  that  he  receives  is  given  through  the  speaking 
figure  of  death  and  resurrection,  and  if  we  desire  a  striking  com- 
mentary on  the  figure,  and  a  definite  statement  of  the  truth,  we 
have  only  to  turn  to  St.  Paul's  Epistles.  "  You  hath  he  quickened, 
who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."  "  But  God,  who  is  rich  in 
mercy,  for  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we 
were  dead  in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ,  and 
hath  raised  us  up  together. "  "  And  you,  being  dead  in  your  sins 
and  the  imcircumcision  of  your  flesh,  hath  he  quickened  together 
with  him,  having  forgiven  you  all  trespasses."  "  Having  spoiled 
principalities  and  powers,  he  made  a  show  of  them  openly, 
triumphing  over  them  in  his  cross."  Surely  nothing  can  be  more 
striking  than  the  parallelism  between  the  words  of  this  passage 
and  the  symbolism  of  the  scene  that  we  are  contemplating. 

^  Eternal  life  is  the  blessing  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  viewed  as 
a  personal  possession.  The  description  is  peculiar  to  John's  Gospel, 
but  it  agrees  with  the  "  life "  which  is  spoken  of  with  such 
emphasis  in  the  other  Gospels.  According  to  them,  to  enter  into 
the  Kingdom  is  to  enter  into  "  life  "  (Matt,  xviii.  3,  8,  9).  It  is 
not  so  much  duration  that  is  expressed  by  the  word  "  eternal "  as 
the  peculiar  quality  of  the  life  that  arises  out  of  the  new  relations 
with  God  which  are  brought  about  by  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  death- 
less life,  although  the  believer  has  still  to  die,  "  and  go  unterrified 
into  the  gulf  of  Death."  It  may  be  described  as  a  life  which 
seeks  to  obey  an  eternal  rule,  the  will  of  God ;  which  is  inspired 
by  an  eternal  motive,  the  love  of  God ;  which  lives  for  and  is 
lightened  by  an  eternal  glory,  the  glory  of  God;  and  abides  in 
an  eternal  blessedness,  communion  with  God.  It  is  both  present 
and  future.  Here  and  now  for  the  believer  there  are  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth,  and  the  glory  of  God  doth  lighten  them, 
and  the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof.  No  change  which  time  or 
death  can  bring  has  power  to  affect  the  essential  character  of  his 
life,  though  its  glory  as  terrestrial  is  one,  and  its  glory  as 
celestial  is  another.  Wherever  after  death  the  man  may  be  who 
has  believed  in  Jesus,  the  life  that  he  lives  will  be  the  same  in 
its  inner  spirit  and  relation.     "  To  him  all  one,  if  on  the  earth  or 


NUMBERS  XXI.  8,  9  407 

in  the  sun,"  God's  will  must  be  his  law,  God's  glory  his  light,  God's 
presence  his  blessedness,  God's  love  his  inspiration  and  joy.^ 

IF  I  distinguish  between  Life,  which  is  our  Being  in  God,  and 
Eternal  Life,  which  is  the  Light  of  the  Life,  that  is,  fellowship 
with  the  Author,  Substance,  and  Former  of  our  Being,  the  Alpha 
and  Omega.  It  is  the  heart  that  needs  re-creation;  it  is  the 
heart  that  is  desperately  wicked,  not  the  Being  of  man.  I 
think  a  distinction  is  carefully  maintained  in  Holy  Scripture 
between  the  life  in  the  heart  and  the  Life  of  the  Being :  "  Lighten 
thou  my  eyes  that  I  sleep  not  in  death."  It  is  the  Light  of 
Life  we  want,  to  purify  or  re-create  or  regenerate  our  hearts  so 
that  we  may  be  the  Children  of  Light.* 

2.  In  the  Eevised  Version  there  is  a  little  change  made  here, 
partly  by  the  exclusion  of  a  clause  and  partly  by  changing  the 
order  of  the  words.  The  alteration  is  not  only  nearer  the 
original  text,  but  brings  out  a  striking  thought.  It  reads  that 
"  whosoever  believeth  may  in  him  have  eternal  life."  "  May  in 
him  have  eternal  life  " — union  with  Christ  by  faith,  that  profound 
incorporation  into  Him,  which  the  New  Testament  sets  forth  in 
all  sorts  of  aspects  as  the  very  foundation  of  the  blessings  of 
Christianity ;  that  union  is  the  condition  of  eternal  life. 

%  A  soldier  lay  dying  on  the  battlefield ;  the  chaplain 
speaking  to  him  read  St.  John  iii.  When  he  came  to  verses 
14,  15,  he  was  asked  to  read  them  again ;  when  they  were  read, 
the  soldier,  having  repeated  them,  added,  "  That  is  enough  for  me ; 
that  is  all  I  want."  * 

^  There  is  a  most  impressive  little  story  which  tells  how 
Sternberg,  the  great  German  artist,  was  led  to  paint  his 
"Messiah,"  which  is  his  masterpiece.  One  day  the  artist  met 
a  little  gypsy  girl  on  the  street,  and  was  so  struck  by  her 
peculiar  beauty  that  he  requested  her  to  accompany  him  to  his 
studio  in  order  that  he  might  paint  her.  This  she  consented  to 
do,  and  while  sitting  for  the  great  artist  she  noticed  a  half-finished 
painting  of  Christ  on  the  cross.  The  gypsy  girl,  who  was  ignorant 
and  uneducated,  asked  Sternberg  what  it  was,  and  wondered  if 
Christ  must  not  have  been  an  awfully  bad  man  to  be  nailed  to 
a  cross.  Sternberg  replied  that  Christ  was  the  best  man  that 
ever  lived,  and  that  He  died  on  the  cross  that  others  might  live. 
"  Did  He  die  for  you  ? "  asked  the  gypsy.    This  question  so  preyed 

*  John  Reid. 

'  R.  W.  Corbet,  Letters  from  a  Mystic  of  the  Present  Day,  68. 

•  L.  N.  Caley. 


4o8  LOOK  AND  LIVE 

upon  the  mind  of  Sternberg,  who  was  not  a  Christian,  that  he 
was  greatly  disturbed  by  it.  The  more  he  pondered  it,  the  more 
impressed  he  became  that,  though  Christ  had  died  for  him,  he 
had  not  accepted  the  sacrifice.  It  was  this  that  led  him  at  last 
to  paint  the  "Messiah,"  which  became  famous  throughout  the 
world.  It  is  said  that  John  Wesley  got  one  of  his  greatest 
inspirations  from  this  picture. 


The  Death  to  Die. 


409 


Literature. 

Alford  (H.),  Quebec  Chapel  Sermons,  iii.  218. 

Barry  (A.),  The  Parables  of  the  Old  Testament,  226. 

Bellew  (J,  C.  M.),  Sermons,  iii.  311. 

Bonar  (H.),  Family  Sermons,  408. 

Butler  (G.),  Sermons  in  Cheltenham  College  Chapel,  35. 

Butler  (J.),  Sermons,  ed.  Bernard,  92. 

Clapperton  (J.  A.),  in  The  Divine  Artist,  137. 

Colenso  (J.  W.),  Natal  Sermons,  2nd  Ser.,  171. 

Eyton  (R.),  The  True  Life,  334. 

Gibbon  (J.  M.),  in  Men  of  the  Old  Testament  (Cain-David),  1 73. 

Gk)odwin  (H.),  Pa/rish  Sermons,  2nd  Ser.,  17. 

Maclaren  (A.),  Expositions  :  Exodus,  Leviticus,  and  Numbers,  371, 

Mortimer  (A.  G.),  Lenten  Preaching,  159. 

„  Studies  in  Holy  Scripture,  71. 

Hunger  (T.  T.),  The  Appeal  to  Life,  109. 
Reicbel  (C.  P.),  Sermons,  27. 
Robertson  (F.  W.),  Sermons,  4th  Ser.,  42. 
Skrine  (J.  H.),  Sermons  to  Pastors  and  Masters,  23. 
Spurgeon  (C.  H.),  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  Pulpit,  xiii.  No.  746. 
Church  of  England  Pulpit,  xxxix.  241  (Rawstorne). 
Church  Pulpit  Year  Book,  i.  (1904)  85  (Mortimer). 
Churchman's  Pulpit,  Third   Sunday  after   Easter,   viii.   99  (Dix),    101 

(Vaughan). 
Clergyman's  Magazine,  viii.   218  (Leathes) ;  xii.  221  (Lillingston) ;  3rd 

Ser.,  viii.  222  (Proctor). 
Homiletic  Review,  xix.  568  ;  ixxii.  44  (Merrill). 
Plain  Sermons  by   Contributors  to  the  '^Tracts  for  the  Times,"  iv.   63 

[No.  100]. 


4"0 


The  Death  to  Die. 

Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  rigfhteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his  !— 
Num.  xxiii.  lo. 

1.  The  Israelites  were  now,  after  long  wandering  in  the  wilder- 
ness, on  the  point  of  taking  possession  of  the  Promised  Land. 
Arrived  on  its  verge,  their  numbers  and  their  discipline, 
strengthened  and  consolidated  by  nearly  forty  years  of  hardship 
in  the  desert,  struck  terror  into  the  heart  of  Balak,  king  of  Moab. 
So  he  sent  off  messengers,  chosen  from  among  his  princes,  to 
Balaam ;  the  distance  at  which  Balaam  lived,  at  Pethor  on  the 
Euphrates,  serving  to  indicate  the  wide  reputation  he  enjoyed  aa 
a  powerful  magician  or  sorcerer.  These  envoys  were  to  persuade 
him  to  come  and  curse  Israel,  in  the  expectation  that  his  male- 
diction would  destroy  them.  Balaam  was  nothing  loth,  yet  before 
he  went  he  would  see  what  God  might  say  to  him.  God  appeared 
to  him  at  night  in  vision,  and  told  him  that  he  must  not  go  with 
the  messengers,  that  he  must  not  curse  the  people,  for  that  they 
were  blessed.  Balaam  obeyed ;  but  instead  of  communicating  to 
the  messengers  God's  reply  in  full,  he  abridged  it  by  merely 
telling  them  that  God  refused  to  give  him  leave  to  go  with  them. 
He  did  not  tell  them  that  God  had  emphatically  declared  that 
he  should  not  curse  the  people,  for  that  they  were  blessed.  The 
Moabite  princes,  having  received  God's  message  from  Balaam  in 
this  garbled  form,  garbled  it  themselves  still  further  in  repeating 
it  to  Balak.  Instead  of  saying  to  him  that  God  refused  Balaam 
leave  to  come,  they  merely  said,  "Balaam  refuseth  to  come." 
Probably  they  thought  that  the  God  who  refused  him  leave  was 
only  his  own  avarice  and  greed  of  gain.  So,  at  least,  Balak  seems 
to  have  thought,  for,  instead  of  being  discouraged,  he  only  sent  a 
second  embassy  of  higher  rank,  with  richer  gifts,  who  should  say, 
"  Let  nothing,  I  pray  thee,  hinder  thee  from  coming  unto  me :  for 
I  will  promote  thee  unto  very  great  honour,  and  wiU  do  whatso- 


412  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

ever  thou  sayest  unto  me :  come,  therefore,  I  pray  thee,  and  curse 
me  this  people." 

The  spirit  of  avarice,  awakened  by  the  first  embassy,  had 
now  got  full  possession  of  Balaam;  and,  therefore,  though  he 
made  the  most  pompous  protestations  of  his  entire  fidelity  to 
God,  and  of  the  utter  impossibility  of  saying  or  doing  anything 
but  what  God  commanded  or  permitted,  he  wound  up  with  the 
lame  conclusion  that  they  should  stay  with  him  another  night, 
to  see  what  the  Lord  would  say  unto  him  more;  in  other 
words,  to  see  whether  God  might  not  change  His  mind,  like  some 
weak  mortal,  and  permit  His  prophet  to  pronounce  a  gainful 
curse  upon  His  people.  So  God,  who  answers  fools  after  their 
folly,  who,  in  the  strong  language  of  the  18th  Psalm,  "  with  the 
perverse  shows  himself  perverse,"  in  other  words,  whose  voice, 
speaking  through  the  conscience,  may  always  be  altered  and 
vitiated  by  a  persevering  determination  to  attend  only  to  what 
we  like — God  permitted  him  to  go  with  the  messengers  if  they 
came  to  call  him.  Balaam  made  no  further  delay.  He  rose  up 
early  in  the  morning,  and  saddled  his  ass  and  went  with  the  men. 
But  he  was  sternly  warned,  and  he  determined  for  his  own  safety's 
sake  to  say  nothing  except  what  God  should  say  to  him.  Still, 
strange  to  say,  he  fancied  that  by  magical  rites  and  sacrifices,  in 
which  the  mystic  number  seven  was  twice  repeated,  he  might 
prevail  on  God  to  change  His  mind.  Thrice  did  he  make  the 
presumptuous  attempt,  and  thrice  was  he  obliged,  instead  of 
curses,  to  pour  forth  blessings.  So  he  had  violated  his  conscience 
to  no  purpose ;  he  had  made  nothing  by  his  wicked  journey ;  the 
Lord  had  kept  him  from  honour,  as  Balak  told  him  with  bitter 
mockery ;  he  had  lost  the  promise  of  the  life  to  come,  without 
gaining  anything  for  the  life  that  now  is ;  he  went  back  to  his 
distant  home  ungraced  and  unrewarded. 

2.  As  he  uttered  this  prayer  Balaam  was  among  the  mountain - 
peaks  of  Moab,  and  before  him  lay  a  deeply  impressive  scene.  In 
the  far  distance  in  front  of  him  were  the  hills  of  Ephraim  and 
Judah,  with  numerous  openings  that  gave  glimpses  of  fertile 
plains  and  smiling  valleys.  Still  nearer  was  the  plain  through 
which  the  sacred  Jordan  rolled — a  plain  some  six  or  seven  miles 
broad.     Immediately  below  him  lay  the  eastern  hillside,  covered 


NUMBERS  XXIII.   lo  413 

in  part  by  a  long  belt  of  acacia  groves.  Among  these  groves  he 
could  see  thousands  of  tents  belonging  to  the  Hebrew  wanderers 
— the  chosen  of  the  Lord.  In  vain  had  he  striven  to  draw  down 
the  displeasure  of  the  Almighty  upon  them,  and,  now  that  he 
thought  of  their  special  religious  knowledge,  and  spiritual  advan- 
tages, he  regarded  them  as  "  righteous,"  and  felt  constrained  to 
give  sincere  utterance  to  his  deepest  wish :  "  Let  me  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his ! " 

^  The  text  occurs  in  the  first  of  the  prophecies  or  oracles 
uttered  by  Balaam.  His  eye  ranges  over  "  the  utmost  part  of  the 
people."  Accordingly,  after  the  repetition  of  the  declaration  that 
he  cannot  curse  or  defy,  except  at  the  bidding  of  the  Lord,  the 
leading  idea  which  expresses  itself  is  the  idea  of  their  vast  multi- 
tude, dwelling  apart  from  the  nations,  in  "  numbers  numberless  " 
as  the  sand  on  the  seashore. 

Num.  xxiii.  7-10. — "  And  he  took  up  his  parable,  and  said — 

From  Aram  hath  Balak  brought  me. 

The  king  of  Moab  from  the  mountains  of  the  East. 

Come,  curse  me  Jacob, 

And  come,  defy  Israel. 

How  shall  I  curse,  whom  God  hath  not  cursed  ? 

And  how  shall  I  defy,  whom  the  Lord  hath  not  defied  ? 

For  from  the  top  of  the  rocks  I  see  him, 

And  from  the  hills  I  behold  him: 

Lo,  it  is  a  people  that  dwell  alone. 

And  shall  not  be  reckoned  among  the  nations. 

Who  can  count  the  dust  of  Jacob, 

Or  number  the  fourth  part  of  Israel? 

Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous. 

And  let  my  last  end  be  like  his ! " 

The  parable,  as  a  whole,  is  as  simple  as  it  is  forcible.  The 
only  point  which  needs  explanation  is  the  connection  with  the 
context  of  the  celebrated  aspiration  of  the  last  couplet — suddenly 
introducing  the  conception  of  the  blessing  of  righteousness  after 
the  mere  contemplation  of  multitude  and  strength.  That  con- 
nection is  probably  to  be  found  in  the  allusions  made  in  the 
previous  couplets  to  the  separation  of  the  people  from  all  others, 
and  the  comparison  of  them  to  the  "  dust "  or  sand.  It  is 
hardly  possible  not  to  trace  in  these,  signs  of  some  knowledge, 
in  itself  most  probable,  of  the  great  promises  to  Abraham  (Gen. 
xxii.  17)  and  to  his  descendants :  "  I  will  multiply  thy  seed  as  the 
stars  of  the  heaven,  and  as  the  sand  which  is  upon  the  sea  shore." 


414  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

These  are  the  "  righteous  ones."  To  them  is  fulfilled,  in  special 
fulness,  that  general  promise  of  offspring  from  generation  to 
generation,  which  ancient  faith  believed  to  be  given  to  all  the 
righteous.  "  Thou  shalt  know  also  that  thy  seed  shall  be  great ; 
and  thine  offspring  as  the  grass  of  the  field "  (Job  v.  25) ;  "  His 
seed  shall  be  mighty  upon  earth ;  the  generation  of  the  upright 
shall  be  blessed  "  (Ps.  cxii.  2).  Hence  the  aspiration  of  Balaam  is 
that  he  may  die  as  they  died,  full  of  years  and  honour — their  last 
hour  lighted  up  by  the  promise  of  seed  as  the  stars  of  heaven — 
sure  that  the  same  blessing  of  God,  under  which  they  had  lived, 
would  deepen  and  widen  out  into  the  greatness  of  a  magnificent 
future.^ 

3.  The  literal  translation  of  the  text  is,  "  Let  my  soul  (or  my 
life)  die  the  death  of  righteous  men,  and  let  my  future  be  like  that 
of  one  of  them."  The  future,  or  last  end  (as  our  translation  gives 
it)  is  a  very  general  expression,  and  may  mean  anything  that 
comes  after.  The  authors  of  the  old  Greek  version  of  the  Seventy 
thought  that  the  prophet  meant  his  posterity,  and  have  so 
rendered  the  word.  But  Balaam,  it  is  to  be  feared,  was  too 
complete  an  egotist  to  have  taken  even  that  first  step  out  of  the 
abject  selfishness  which  makes  a  man  care  for  his  posterity  more 
than  for  himself.  The  common  traditional  interpretation  of  the 
passage  is  the  truest.  The  selfish,  worldly  prophet  did  actually 
desire  for  a  moment  that,  when  he  died,  he  might  die  the  death 
of  righteous  men,  and  that  whatever  there  be  that  follows  death 
might  be  for  him  such  as  it  was  for  them. 

Let  us  consider — 
I.  The  Eighteous. 
II.  Balaam. 

III.  The  Death  of  the  Eighteous. 

IV.  The  Death  of  Balaam. 

L 

The  Eighteous. 

1.  It  is  necessary  to  observe  particularly  what  Balaam  under- 
stood by  righteous.  And  he  himself  is  introduced  in  the  Book  of 
Micah  as  explaining  it ;  if  by  righteous  is  meant  good,  as  to  be  sure 

J  A.  Barry,  Pcwables  of  the  Old  TentamenC,  2^7. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.   lo  415 

it  is.  "  O  my  people,  remember  now  what  Balak  king  of  Moab 
consulted,  and  what  Balaam  the  son  of  Beor  answered  him  from 
Shittim  unto  Gilgal."  From  the  mention  of  Shittim  it  is  manifest 
that  it  is  this  very  story  which  is  here  referred  to,  though  another 
part  of  it,  the  account  of  which  is  not  now  extant.  "  Eemember 
what  Balaam  answered,  that  ye  may  know  the  righteousness  of 
the  Lord  " ;  i.e.  the  righteousness  which  God  will  accept.  Balak 
demands,  "Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the  Lord,  and  bow 
myself  before  the  high  God  ?  Shall  I  come  before  him  with 
burnt-offerings,  with  calves  of  a  year  old  ?  Will  the  Lord  be 
pleased  with  thousands  of  rams,  or  with  ten  thousands  of  rivers 
of  oil  ?  Shall  I  give  my  first-born  for  my  transgression,  the  fruit 
of  my  body  for  the  sin  of  my  soul  ? "  Balaam  answers  him,  "  He 
hath  shewed  thee,  0  man,  what  is  good:  and  what  doth  the  Lord 
require  of  thee,  but  to  do  justly,  and  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly 
with  thy  God  1 "  Here  is  a  good  man  expressly  characterized,  as 
distinct  from  a  dishonest  and  a  superstitious  man.  No  words  can 
more  strongly  exclude  dishonesty  and  falseness  of  heart  than 
doing  justice  and  loving  mercy ;  and  both  these,  as  well  as  walking 
humbly  with  God,  are  put  in  opposition  to  those  ceremonial 
methods  of  recommendation  which  Balak  hoped  might  have 
served  the  turn.  It  thus  appears  what  he  meant  by  "the 
righteous,"  whose  death  he  desired  to  die. 

He  serves  his  country  best 
Who  lives  pure  life  and  doeth  righteous  deed. 
And  walks  straight  paths,  however  others  stray, 
And  .leaves  his  sons  as  uttermost  bequest 
A  stainless  record  which  all  men  may  read. 
This  is  the  better  way. 

No  drop  but  serves  the  slowly  lifting  tide; 
No  dew  but  has  an  errand  to  some  flower; 
No  smallest  star  but  sheds  some  helpful  ray, 
And,  man  by  man,  each  helping  all  the  rest, 
Makes  the  firm  bulwark  of  the  country's  power. 
There  is  no  better  way. 

2.  It  would  be  felt  to  be  a  prayer  universally  applicable,  were 
it  not  for  one  doubt :  "  There  is  none  righteous ;  no,  not  one.  .  .  . 
All  have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God ! "    It  is  true 


4i6  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

that  Balaam  would  feel  no  such  difficulty.  To  him  it  was  quite 
sufficient  to  be  able  to  believe  that  some  of  the  Jews  con- 
scientiously lived  up  to  the  rich  heritage  of  truth  they  had 
received.  That  was  sufficient  to  constitute  them  "  righteous  "  in 
his  view.  But  still  the  difficulty  remains,  that  if  we  know  that 
nobody  is  righteous  the  prayer  becomes  an  empty  mockery.  But 
St.  Paul  himself  supplies  a  cheering  reply  to  this  problem  in  the 
very  chapter  from  which  the  above  passage  is  quoted  (Rom.  iii. 
2-22) :  "  By  the  deeds  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified.  But 
now  the  righteousness  of  God  without  the  law  is  manifested ;  .  .  . 
even  the  righteousness  of  God  which  is  by  faith  of  Jesus  unto  all 
and  upon  all  them  that  believe."  Wesley  puts  the  matter  very 
plainly  in  his  twentieth  sermon :  "  Inherent  righteousness  is  not 
the  ground  of  our  acceptance  with  God,  but  the  fruit  of  it,  and  is 
therefore  not  identical  with  the  imputed  righteousness  of  Christ, 
but  is  consequent  upon  it." 

^  On  Sundays  we  have  attended  the  Welsh  service  in  the 
morning,  which  we  could  easily  follow,  and  the  English  in  the 
afternoon.  As  there  are  four  services  in  the  day,  the  English 
sermon  generally  faUs  to  some  clergyman  passing  through,  and 
they  do  not  always  fare  well  in  consequence;  for  instance,  ten 
days  ago  an  old  canon  of  Manchester,  who  preached,  recommended 
us  to  keep  regularly  a  journal  for  entering  all  our  good  and  all 
our  bad  actions,  and  to  take  care  to  keep  the  balance  on  the  side 
of  the  former,  as  we  should  then  feel  very  comfortable  on  our 
death-beds.^ 

3.  To  Balaam's  mind,  however,  as  the  context  shows,  the  term 
"  the  righteous "  had  a  special  application.  He  meant  "  the 
righteous  people,"  as  they  called  themselves,  the  chosen  nation. 
"  Who  can  count  the  dust  of  Jacob,  or  number  the  fourth  part 
of  Israel?  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my 
last  end  be  like  his!"  They  were,  indeed,  a  chosen  people — 
highly  favoured  of  God  to  receive  the  revelations  of  His  Spirit, 
and  called  to  be  "  Jehovah's  servant,"  for  ministering  the 
knowledge  of  His  love  and  truth  to  all  the  world.  But  even  in 
the  mind  of  the  writer  of  this  story  they  must  have  been  dis- 
tinguished rather  by  the  possession  of  a  purer  faith,  a  greater 
knowledge — at  least  in  some  higher  minds — of  what  was  pleasing 

'  Life  and  Letters  of  Fenton  J.  A.  Hort,  i.  86. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.   lo  417 

to  Grod  both  in  worship  and  practice,  than  by  their  diligence 
in  acting  accordingly.  This,  at  least,  was  the  righteousness  on 
which  they  prided  themselves  in  later  days,  as  in  the  days  of 
St.  Paul — on  theu"  supposed  nearness  to  God,  from  His  clearer 
revelation  of  Himself  to  them.  We  may  well  doubt  the  justness 
of  this  their  own  valuation  of  themselves,  when  we  remember  our 
Lord's  declaration  in  the  Gospel,  that  the  servant,  who  knew  not 
his  lord's  will,  and  did  it  not,  shall  be  beaten  with  few  stripes ; 
but  he,  that  knew  it,  and  prepared  not  himself,  neither  did 
according  to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes.  For, 
onto  whom  much  is  given,  of  him  shall  much  be  required. 
f 

IL 

Balaam. 

1.  The  judgment  which  we  form  of  the  character  of  Balaam  is 
one  of  unmitigated  condemnation.  We  know  and  say  that  he 
was  a  false  prophet  and  a  bad  man.  This  is  however,  doubtless, 
because  we  come  to  the  consideration  of  his  history  having  already 
prejudged  his  case.  St.  Peter,  St.  Jude,  and  St.  John  have  passed 
sentence  upon  him.  And  so  we  read  the  history  of  Balaam, 
familiar  with  these  passages,  and  colouring  all  with  them.  But 
assuredly  this  is  not  the  sentence  we  should  have  proSounced  if 
we  had  been  left  to  ourselves,  but  one  much  less  severe.  Eepulsive 
as  Balaam's  character  is  when  it  is  seen  at  a  distance,  when  it  is 
seen  near  it  has  much  in  it.  that  is  human,  like  our  own,  inviting 
compassion — even  admiration ;  there  are  traits  of  firmness,  con- 
scientiousness, nobleness.  He  offers  to  retrace  his  steps  as  soon 
as  he  perceives  that  he  is  doing  wrong.  He  asks  guidance  of  God 
before  he  will  undertake  a  journey :  "  And  he  said  unto  them. 
Lodge  here  this  night,  and  I  will  bring  you  word  again,  as  the 
Lord  shall  speak  unto  me."  He  professes — and  in  earnest — "  If 
Balak  would  give  me  his  house  full  of  silver  and  gold,  I  cannot 
go  beyond  the  word  of  the  Lord  my  God,  to  do  less  or  more." 
He  prays  to  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  that  his  last  end 
may  be  like  his.  Yet  the  inspired  judgment  of  his  character,  as 
a  whole,  stands  recorded  as  one  of  unmeasured  severity. 

2.  "The  object  we   now   have    before  us,"   says   Butler,  in 

CEN.-NUM. — 37 


4i8  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

a  famous  passage,  "  is  the  most  astonishing  in  the  world :  a  very 
wicked  man,  under  a  deep  sense  of  God  and  religion,  persisting 
still  in  his  wickedness,  and  preferring  the  wages  of  unrighteous- 
ness, even  when  he  had  before  him  a  lively  view  of  death,  and 
that  approaching  period  of  his  days  which  should  deprive  him  of 
all  those  advantages  for  which  he  was  prostituting  himself ;  and 
likewise  a  prospect,  whether  certain  or  uncertain,  of  a  future 
state  of  retribution :  all  this  joined  with  an  explicit  ardent  wish, 
that,  when  he  was  to  leave  this  world  he  might  be  in  the  condi- 
tion of  a  righteous  man.  Good  God,  what  inconsistency,  what 
perplexity  is  here !  With  what  different  views  of  things,  with 
what  contradictory  principles  of  action,  must  such  a  mind  be  torn 
and  distracted !  It  was  not  unthinking  carelessness,  by  which  he 
ran  on  headlong  in  vice  and  folly,  without  ever  making  a  stand 
to  ask  himself  what  he  was  doing ;  no ;  he  acted  upon  the  cool 
motives  of  interest  and  advantage.  Neither  was  he  totally  hard 
and  callous  to  impressions  of  religion,  what  we  call  abandoned ; 
for  he  absolutely  refused  to  curse  Israel.  When  reason  assumes 
her  place,  when  convinced  of  his  duty,  when  he  owns  and  feels, 
and  is  actually  under  the  influence  of,  the  Divine  authority ;  whilst 
he  is  carrying  on  his  views  to  the  grave,  the  end  of  all  temporal 
greatness ;  under  this  sense  of  things,  with  the  better  character 
and  more  desirable  state  present — full  before  him — in  his  thoughts, 
in  his  wishes,  voluntarily  to  choose  the  worst — what  fatality  is 
here !  Or  how  otherwise  can  such  a  character  be  explained  ? 
And  yet,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  not  altogether  an  un- 
common one :  nay,  with  some  small  alterations,  and  put  a  little 
lower,  it  is  applicable  to  a  very  considerable  part  of  the  world. 
For  if  the  reasonable  choice  be  seen  and  acknowledged,  and  yet 
men  make  the  unreasonable  one,  is  not  this  the  same  contra- 
diction, that  very  inconsistency,  which  appeared  so  unaccount- 
able ?"i 

^  "  Now  and  then,"  says  Peter  Eosegger,  "  I  take  my  soul  out 
from  its  cage.  I  smooth  its  wings  and  brush  away  the  dust. 
Then  I  throw  it  up,  to  see  how  high  it  can  go.  It  flies  up  above 
the  housetop,  it  circles  round  and  round.  It  settles  on  a 
neighbouring  tree.  It  looks  up,  but  the  sky  is  so  far.  It  looks 
down,  the  earth  is   so   near.     It   is   hard   to  soar,  it  is  easy  to 

'  Butler,  Sermons,  97. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.  lo  419 

descend ;  and  so  in  a  little  time  my  soul  comes  fluttering  down 
to  me,  and  creeps  into  its  cage  again.  My  hope  is  in  the  Holy 
Dove,  the  Spirit  of  God  Himself,  that  comes  down  to  earth  and 
bears  my  soul  upon  its  wings  to  heaven," 

3.  The  story  of  Balaam  may  be  entitled  "  a  drama  of  the  ruin 
of  conscience."  We  are  introduced  to  him  at  the  crisis  of  his  life. 
What  had  gone  before  we  do  not  know,  although  we  see  clearly 
manifested  in  him,  on  the  one  hand,  the  tyranny  of  a  strong 
besetting  sin  and,  on  the  other,  the  helpfulness  and  strength  of 
religious  principle.  He  is  evidently  in  the  habit  of  seeking 
guidance  from  God,  of  listening  to  and  obeying  the  voice  of 
conscience.  The  message  of  Balak,  with  its  offer  of  silver,  and 
gold,  and  honours,  is  the  turning-point  of  his  life.  The  struggle 
between  conscience  and  his  besetting  sin  is  most  dramatically 
portrayed ;  it  is  a  tragedy,  ending  in  the  defeat  of  conscience,  in 
the  ruin  of  character,  probably  in  the  loss  of  a  souL 

^  We  often  see  two  individuals  in  the  same  family,  brothers 
perhaps,  inheriting  from  the  same  parentage,  brought  up  under 
the  same  environment,  and  living  together  until  some  great 
decision  has  to  be  made  by  each.  The  one  decides  for  right,  for 
God ;  and  his  life  afterwards,  while  it  is  not  free  from  struggle, 
and  has  its  imperfections,  is  a  steady  progress  upward.  The 
other  brother  yields  to  the  temptation,  and  though  he  makes, 
from  time  to  time,  efiforts  to  recover  himself,  yet  they  seem  to  be 
unavailing,  and  he  falls  lower  and  lower  until,  perhaps,  becoming 
hopeless  and  despairing,  he  gives  up  the  fight.  What  made  the 
difference  between  the  two  at  the  moment  of  trial  ?  It  was  the 
life  which  had  gone  before:  in  the  one,  a  life  of  fidelity  to 
principle,  to  conscience,  even  in  small  matters ;  in  the  other,  a 
life  of  carelessness  about  little  things,  as  though  they  were  too 
unimportant  to  be  made  matters  of  principle.  In  the  first  the 
will  gradually  became  stronger  and  stronger  to  resist  temptation, 
and  so  was  able  to  make  the  right  decision  at  the  crisis  of  life ;  in 
the  other  the  will  had  been  weakened  by  many  little  acts  of  self- 
indulgence,  so  that  when  the  great  demand  was  made  upon  it,  it 
could  not  rise  up  to  meet  the  temptation,  it  yielded  and  never 
again  recovered.  The  whole  principle  is  summed  up  in  our 
Lord's  words,  "  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful 
also  in  much ;  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in 
much."! 

^  ▲.  6.  Mortimer. 


420  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

The  smallest  thing  thou  canst  accomplish  well, 
The  smallest  ill.     'Tis  only  little  things 
Make  up  the  present  day,  make  up  all  days, 
Make  up  thy  life.     Do  thou  not  therefore  wait. 
Keeping  thy  wisdom  and  thy  honesty. 
Till  great  things  come  with  trumpet-heraldings !  * 

4.  What  were  the  motives  which  led  to  the  perversion  of 
conscience  in  Balaam  ?  There  are  two  opposite  motives  which 
sway  men.  Some,  like  Simon  Magus,  will  give  gold  to  be  admired 
and  wondered  at ;  some  will  barter  honour  for  gold.  In  Balaam 
the  two  are  blended.  We  see  the  desire  at  once  for  honour  and 
for  wealth ;  wealth,  perhaps,  as  being  another  means  of  ensuring 
reputation.  And  so  have  we  seen  many  begin  and  end  in  our  own 
day — begin  with  a  high-minded  courage  which  flatters  none; 
speaking  truth,  even  unpalatable  truth ;  but  when  this  advocacy  of 
truth  brings,  as  it  brought  to  Balaam,  men  to  consult  them,  and 
they  rise  in  the  world  and  become  men  of  consideration,  then  by 
degrees  the  love  of  truth  is  superseded,  and  passes  into  a  love  of 
influence.  Or  they  begin  with  a  generous  indifference  to  wealth 
— simple,  austere;  by  degrees  they  find  the  society  of  the  rich 
leading  them  from  extravagance  to  extravagance,  till  at  last,  high 
intellectual  and  spiritual  powers  become  the  servile  instruments 
of  appropriating  gold.  The  world  sees  the  sad  spectacle  of  the 
man  of  science  and  the  man  of  God  waiting  at  the  doors  of  princes, 
or  cringing  before  the  public  for  promotion  and  admiration. 

The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow; 

Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds; 
Upon  death's  purple  altar  now. 

See,  where  the  victor- victim  bleeds: 
Your  head  must  come 
To  the  cold  tomb: 
Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet  and  blossom  in  their  dust.* 

III. 

The  Death  of  thb  Eighteous. 

1.  There  are  many  ways  in  which  men  go  out  of  the  world. 
Some  withdraw  in  carelessness  and  indifference,  some  in  heaviness 

'  A  Layman'i  Breviary,  *  James  Sliirley. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.   lo  421 

and  fear,  some  without  hope  or  expectation,  some  with  a  mere 
wish  to  make  an  end  of  physical  discomfort,  some  hardened  in 
frigid  stoicism,  and  some  in  a  maze  of  dreams,  saying  to  them- 
selves, Peace,  Peace,  when  there  is  no  peace.  There  is  another 
manner  of  departure  which  leads  all  the  rest  in  dignity  and 
beauty.  It  is  the  death  of  the  righteous — joy  with  peace ;  a  trust 
in  God  that  rests  on  strong  foundations ;  a  heart  confiding  in  a 
covenant  promise  which  it  knows  to  be  certain  and  sure ;  perfect 
submission  to  the  will  which  is  evermore  a  will  of  love ;  resigna- 
tion of  self  and  all  into  those  hands  which  come  forth  through  the 
gathering  darkness;  sacrificial  surrender  gladly  paying  the  debt 
due  to  sin; — these  signs  mark  the  death  of  the  righteous.  And 
to  all  this,  since  Christ  came,  are  to  be  added  the  presence  of  the 
Saviour,  the  thought  that  He  has  gone  that  way  before  us  and 
knows  every  step  of  the  path,  the  conviction  that  to  die  is  gain, 
the  assurance  that  the  Lord  shall  raise  us  up  at  the  Last  Day,  and 
that  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  Him  shall  never  die. 

At  end  of  Love,  at  end  of  Life, 
At  end  of  Hope,  at  end  of  Strife, 
At  end  of  all  we  cling  to  so — 
The  sun  is  setting — must  we  go  ? 

At  dawn  of  Love,  at  dawn  of  Life, 
At  dawn  of  Peace  that  follows  Strife, 
At  dawn  of  all  we  long  for  so — 
The  sun  is  rising — let  us  go!^ 

2.  There  was  but  One  in  this  world  to  whom  could  fitly  be 
applied  the  title  of  "  the  Kighteous,"  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  Him- 
self ;  and  when  we  pray,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous ! " 
it  is  like  saying,  "  Let  me  die  as  my  Master  died,  let  my  last  end 
be  like  His."^ 

(1)  First,  we  observe  that  our  Blessed  Lord  sets  before  us  a 
new  view  of  death.  If  on  the  one  hand  it  is  gloomy,  if  it  tells 
us  that  death  is  the  dire  penalty,  the  necessary  penance  of  sin,  yet 
on  the  other  hand  it  is  not  without  brightness,  for  it  tells  us  that 
death  is  the  paying  of  the  debt  of  sin,  and  is  therefore  the 
entrance  into  the  land  of  everlasting  life,  that  it  is  the  gate  of 
heaven  itse^i 

>  Louise  Chandler  Moultoa. 


422  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

"  Rise,"  said  the  Master,  "  come  unto  the  feast." 

She  heard  the  call,  and  rose  with  willing  feet; 

But  thinking  it  not  otherwise  than  meet 
For  such  a  bidding  to  put  on  her  best, 
She  is  gone  from  us  for  a  few  short  hours 

Into  her  bridal  closet,  there  to  wait 

For  the  unfolding  of  the  palace  gate 
That  gives  her  entrance  to  the  blissful  bowers. 

We  have  not  seen  her  yet,  though  we  have  been 
Full  often  to  her  chamber  door,  and  oft 

Have  listen'd  underneath  the  postern  green, 
And  laid  fresh  flowers,  and  whispered  short  and  soft, 

For  she  hath  made  no  answer,  and  the  day 

From  the  clear  west  is  fading  fast  away. 

(2)  Next,  we  notice  that  our  Lord  teaches  us  how  to  prepare 
for  death — that  is,  for  a  good  death :  "  Eight  dear  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints."  Our  Lord  teaches  how  to 
prepare  that  our  death  may  be  like  "the  death  of  his  saints," 
precious  in  the  sight  of  God.  The  fundamental  principle  surely 
is  this,  that  none  can  die  the  death  of  the  righteous  who  are  not 
trying  to  live  the  life  of  the  righteous.  Our  Lord's  death  teaches 
us,  first,  that  we  must  follow  His  life.  We  cannot  face  death  with 
the  calmness,  with  the  joy  with  which  He  faced  it,  "  Who  for  the 
joy  set  before  him  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame,"  unless 
our  life  has  been  an  attempt  to  follow  Him — has  been  the  life 
of  the  righteous. 

*|j  Those  who  have  crushed  out  their  higher  aspirations,  and  lived 
a  mere  careless  worldly  life — without  a  thought  of  the  Unseen 
Hand  which  was  guiding  them,  without  a  reference  to  the  Will  of 
the  Lord  of  their  conscience,  without  any  desire  to  be  conformed 
to  the  image  of  His  Son — will  have  little  power  or  courage  to 
grasp  that  Unseen  Hand,  and  rest  their  souls  upon  it,  when  the 
senses  are  failing.  Faith,  affiance,  trust,  in  the  Unseen  is  not  a 
single  act :  it  is  a  habit  of  soul,  generated  by  many  acts,  by 
constant  acting.  The  "life  of  the  righteous"  is  a  life  of  faith. 
Without  faith,  without  a  belief,  a  trust,  in  God,  how  can  the 
soul  stand  upright  in  the  midst  of  life's  storms,  or  stand  firm 
against  its  "  manifold  temptations  "  ?  Even  when  explicit  faith 
may  have  been  lost  or  overshadowed  for  a  time,  what  is  every  act 
of  virtuous  self-denial  but  a  homage  to  the  Unseen?  The 
"  righteous  "  then — the  faithful — are  "  blessed  in  their  death," 
with  the  same  blessedness  which  they  enjoyed  in  their  lifetime. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.   lo  423 

There  is  no  other  possible.  Infinite  as  is  the  Mercy  of  our  God, 
and  Great  as  is  His  Power,  He  cannot  make  the  Past  not  to  have 
been :  and,  remember,  we  are  making  it  now  that  which  it  will  be 
for  ever.^ 

^  The  strong  light  which  the  teachings  of  Jesus  have  thrown 
on  the  Law  of  God,  revealing  its  deep  spiritual  requirements — 
and  not  His  words  only,  but  His  life  and  His  death — have  given 
us  a  standard  which  must,  if  it  is  realized,  introduce  penitence 
into  our  lives,  not  as  a  mere  outward  form  or  occasional  service, 
or  as  a  kind  of  composition  for  our  offences,  but  as  the  spirit  of 
our  daily  life — as  the  true  temper  of  those  who  see  their  own 
baseness,  selfishness,  and  coldness,  in  the  light  of  God's  pardoning, 
paternal  Love.  This  repentance — a  continual  daily  turning  to 
God — will  make  the  last,  the  inevitably  remorseful  last  look  at 
life  from  the  dying  pillow,  less  bitter,  less  intolerable,  even  for 
those  who  will  have  much  in  themselves,  in  their  own  course,  to 
regret.  But,  if  deferred  till  then,  with  what  anguish  will  it  come  ? 
Yes !  penitence  is  needful — not  to  propitiate  an  angry  God — not 
as  the  attitude  of  a  slave,  who  crouches  creeping  to  avert  the 
uplifted  lash — but  because  it  is  the  right,  the  truly  human, 
feeling  for  those  who  see  their  own  inward  faults  and  the  trans- 
gressions of  their  lives.  And  but  little  indeed  does  any  one  know 
of  the  comfort  and  relief  of  such  repentance,  who  would  dream  of 
putting  it  ofif  till  all  opportunity  was  over  of  obeying  the  gracious 
words — "  Go  and  sin  no  more  ! "  ^ 

3.  Balaam  envied  the  prospects  of  the  dying  Hebrew ;  but 
when  we  consider  the  blessedness  of  those  who  die  "  in  the  Lord," 
we  feel  that  his  old  prayer  is  truer  than  ever.  The  earliest 
recorded  example  is  that  of  St.  Stephen.  At  his  trial  his  enemies 
gnashed  upon  him  with  their  teeth,  but  his  Friend  in  heaven 
brought  instant  help. 

^  A  minister  of  the  gospel  died  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-seven. 
Some  days  before  the  end,  his  wife  asked  him  how  he  was,  and 
he  replied  that  he  felt  very  ill,  "  but  unspeakably  happy  in  ray 
dear  Lord  Jesus."  The  last  day  he  lived,  his  wife  repeated  the 
familiar  lines  from  Dr.  Watts — 

"Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are." 

The  dying  man  replied,  "  Yes,  He  can.     He  does.     I  feel  it."  « 

'  J.  W.  Coleuso,  » J.  A.  Clapperton. 


424  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

^  Ou  the  thirtieth  of  January,  1646,  Father  Anne  de  Noue  set 
out  from  Three  Rivers  to  go  to  the  fort  built  by  the  French  at 
the  mouth  of  the  river  Eichelieu,  where  he  was  to  say  mass  and 
hear  confessions.  De  Noue  was  sixty-three  years  old,  and  had 
come  to  Canada  in  1625.  As  an  indiflerent  memory  disabled  him 
from  mastering  the  Indian  languages,  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
spiritual  charge  of  the  French,  and  of  the  Indians  about  the  forts 
within  reach  of  an  interpreter.  For  the  rest,  he  attended  the  sick, 
and  in  times  of  scarcity  fished  in  the  river,  or  dug  roots  in  the 
woods  for  the  subsistence  of  his  flock.  In  short,  though  sprung 
from  a  noble  family  of  Champagne,  he  shrank  from  no  toil,  how- 
ever humble,  to  which  his  idea  of  duty  or  his  vow  of  obedience 
called  him.  The  old  missionary  had  for  companions  two  soldiers 
and  a  Huron  Indian.  They  wandered  from  their  course,  and  at 
evening  encamped  on  the  shore  of  the  island  of  St.  Ignace.  At 
daybreak  parties  went  out  to  search.  The  two  soldiers  were 
readily  found,  but  they  looked  in  vain  for  the  missionary.  All 
day  they  were  ranging  the  ice,  firing  their  guns  and  shouting; 
but  to  no  avail,  and  they  returned  disconsolate.  There  was  a 
converted  Indian,  whom  the  French  called  Charles,  at  the  fort, 
one  of  four  who  were  spending  the  winter  there.  On  the  next 
morning,  the  second  of  February,  he  and  one  of  his  companions, 
together  with  Baron,  a  French  soldier,  resumed  the  search; 
and,  guided  by  the  slight  depressions  in  the  snow  which  had 
fallen  on  the  wanderer's  footprints,  the  quick-eyed  savages 
traced  him  through  all  his  windings,  found  his  camp  by  the 
shore  of  the  island,  and  thence  followed  him  beyond  the  fort. 
He  had  passed  near  without  discovering  it — perhaps  weakness 
had  dimmed  his  sight — stopped  to  rest  at  a  point  a  league  above, 
and  thence  made  his  way  about  three  leagues  farther.  Here 
they  found  him.  He  had  dug  a  circular  excavation  in  the  snow, 
and  was  kneeling  in  it  on  the  earth.  His  head  was  bare,  his 
eyes  open  and  turned  upwards,  and  his  hands  clasped  on  his 
breast.  His  hat  and  his  snow-shoes  lay  at  his  side.  The  body 
was  leaning  slightly  forward,  resting  against  the  bank  of  snow 
before  it,  and  frozen  to  the  hardness  of  marble.  Thus,  in  an  act  of 
kindness  and  charity,  died  the  first  martyr  of  the  Canadian  mission.' 

Oh,  safe  for  evermore, 

With  never  a  weird  to  dree: 
Is  any  burden  sore 

When  one's  beloved  goes  free  ? 
Come  pain,  come  woe  to  me, 
My  well-beloved  goes  free ! 

'  Francis  Parkman,  TTi^-:  Jesuits  in  North  America,  li.  76. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.  lo  425 

You  are  so  far  away, 

And  yet  have  come  so  near: 
On  many  a  heavy  day 

I  think  of  you,  my  dear, 
Safe  in  your  shelter  there, 
Christ's  hand  upon  your  hair.^ 

IV. 

The  Death  of  Balaam. 

1.  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end 
be  like  his  ! "  Was  ever  prayer  more  beautiful  than  this  ?  Was 
ever  answer  to  prayer  sadder  ?  Falstaff  "  babbling  0'  green 
fields,"  the  old  backslider  trying  to  grope  his  way  in  the  dark  to 
the  green  pasture  of  the  23rd  Psalm,  is  a  less  tragic  sight  than 
Balaam's  headless  form  huddled  among  the  heap  of  Midian's 
dead. 

2.  Foiled  in  his  attempt  to  procure  a  curse  on  Israel  by  means 
of  sacrifices  and  incantations,  Balaam,  as  we  are  told  in  the 
Apocalypse,  tried  to  effect  his  end  by  indirect  and  yet  more 
devilish  means.  Purity  of  mind  and  body,  and  freedom  from 
idolatry,  were  the  very  conditions  on  which  Israel  enjoyed  the 
Divine  favour.  If  they  could  be  tempted  to  anything  at  variance 
with  these,  their  doom  was  sealed.  So  reasoned  the  prophet,  and 
applying  his  very  knowledge  of  God  to  the  service  of  the  devil,  he 
taught  Balak  his  vile  secret.  If  he  could  seduce  the  Israelites  to 
commit  fornication,  and  to  join  in  the  unhallowed  sacrifices  of  the 
lewd  god  of  Peor,  they  might  still  be  ruined.  The  25th  chapter  of 
Numbers  shows  the  partial  success  of  this  infernal  artifice.  And 
when  we  take  it  in  connexion  with  the  brief  notice  in  a 
subsequent  passage,  that  in  warring  with  Moab  they  slew  Balaam 
also,  the  son  of  Beor,  with  the  sword,  we  are  driven  to  suppose 
that,  after  returning  home  to  Pethor  unsuccessful  in  the  first 
instance,  Balaam  had  actually  gone  back  to  Balak,  to  induce  him 
to  try  seduction  on  those  against  whom  magic  had  been  powerless ; 
that  he  had  awaited  there  the  issue  of  his  vile  suggestions,  and 
had  at  length  died  in  arms,  fighting  against  the  nation  whose 
only  offence  against  him  had  been  that  God  had  not  allowed  him 

'  Katharine  Tynau  Hiuksou. 


426  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

to  pronounce  a  lucrative  curse  upon  them.  And  this  was  the  end 
of  the  man  who  had  said,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his  ! "  In  all  history  there  is  no  more 
signal  instance  of  the  literal  fulfilment  of  the  most  fearful  impre- 
cation that  ever  was  conceived  or  uttered:  "Let  his  prayer  be 
turned  into  sin ! " 

^  There  was  a  noble  soul  that  strove  to  become  the  man,  but 
another  soul,  light,  vain,  and  lustful,  throve  meanwhile ;  and  in 
the  reaction  that  followed  the  great  scene  upon  the  hills,  it  sprang 
forward  at  the  head  of  its  train  of  passions  and  overthrew  the 
man  of  God  in  Balaam,  "  and  Balaam  the  son  of  Beor  they  slew 
with  the  sword."  "Lust  dwells  hard  by  hate."  The  soul  that 
had  now  become  the  man  naturally  hated  the  people  of  the  law, 
and  so  he  sank  swiftly  from  sin  to  sin,  till  he  was  found  at  last 
among  the  heathen  dead.^ 

3.  What  are  the  lessons  of  the  death  of  Balaam  ?  Chiefly  these 
two:  First,  that  no  man  should  expect  to  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous  who  does  not  live  the  life  of  the  righteous;  and, 
second,  that  wishes,  however  earnest,  do  not  necessarily  bring 
the  thing  wished  for. 

(1)  Why  should  any  one  expect  to  come  to  a  good  death  who 
will  not  lead  a  good  life  ?  This  world  is  not  governed  by  chance, 
or  fate,  or  caprice.  Surely  there  is  a  Eighteous  Euler  among  us ; 
and  He  rules  by  just  and  equitable  laws.  More  than  this  may  we 
say :  that  there  is  a  unity  or  a  oneness,  in  the  various  parts  of 
God's  world,  of  such  a  kind,  that,  by  looking  at  what  is  in  one 
place,  we  can  tell  what  must  he  in  another.  "  Do  men  gather 
grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles?  Even  so  every  good  tree 
bringeth  forth  good  fruit ;  but  a  corrupt  tree  bringeth  forth  evil 
fruit.  A  good  tree  cannot  bring  forth  evil  fruit,  neither  can  a 
corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit."  The  Lord  was  speaking  of 
trees  and  shrubs  and  plants ;  in  reality  He  was  talking,  in  a  figure, 
about  the  souls  and  the  lives  of  men.  If  the  life  has  been  hard, 
sharp,  and  angry,  and  such  that  a  bramble-bush  is  its  proper 
emblem  ;  if  a  man  has  permitted  his  sins,  like  thick  weeds,  to 
choke  the  seed  of  spiritual  life,  what  sense  is  there  in  looking  for 
mellowness,  and  fruitage,  and  pleasant,  profitable  things  in  him 
when  the  summer  is  past  and  the  autumn  days  are  come  ? 

(2)  Balaam  wished    that    he    might    die   the   death   of   the 

>  J.  M.  Gibbon. 


NUMBERS  XXIII.   lo  427 

righteous.  And  in  every  such  wish  some  things  are  implied 
the  presence  of  which  is  better  than  their  absence.  There  is 
first  a  knowledge  of  good.  The  man  who  so  speaks  knows 
something  at  least  (as  Balaam  said)  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
Most  High.  Again,  the  honest  utterance  of  such  a  wish  implies 
that,  as  there  is  knowledge  in  the  understanding,  so  is  there  also 
life  in  the  conscience.  And  yet  how  far  was  his  wish  from 
being  fulfilled.  Balaam  knew  well  that  he  who  would  die  the 
death  of  the  righteous  must  first  be  righteous — must  first  have 
lived  the  life  of  the  righteous.  Conscious,  as  in  his  inmost  soul 
he  must  have  been,  that  he  was  at  present  far  from  that 
righteousness,  that  the  whole  bent  of  his  heart  was  evil,  that 
he  was  under  the  dominion  of  one  overmastering  passion  which 
alone  and  of  itself  was  turning  all  his  religion  into  practical 
hypocrisy,  he  should  have  set  himself  with  determined  resolu- 
tion to  unravel  this  web  of  deceit,  to  retrace  his  crooked  steps, 
to  seek  that  straight  and  narrow  way  from  which  he  had  so 
long  and  so  obstinately  wandered,  to  lay  afresh  the  very 
foundations  of  his  spiritual  being,  and  become  that  which 
heretofore  he  had  been  satisfied  to  seem.  He  knew  well  that 
the  distinction  between  the  last  end  of  the  righteous  and  of 
the  wicked  is  no  arbitrary  difference,  but  the  equitable,  the 
natural  result  of  a  long  course  of  voluntary  acts.  To  wish  for 
the  death,  without  resolving  to  live  the  life,  of  the  righteous,  is 
to  dream  of  an  effeci  without  a  cause,  of  a  harvest  without  a 
seed-time. 

4.  As  for  death-bed  repentances,  or  late  conversions,  about 
which  it  would  seem  that  no  one  could  speak  with  too  great 
caution,  or  too  severe  a  reserve,  men  talk  of  them  with  a 
boldness  which  is  effrontery.  Who  knows  anything  about  the 
worth  of  such  changes  ?  Are  they  really  changes  ?  If  he  who 
at  his  last  hour  calls  on  God  and  professes  repentance  and 
faith,  were  to  recover,  who  can  say  that  he  would  not  forget 
it  all,  and  straightway  go  back  to  his  old  ways?  Men  have 
done  so  in  a  thousand  cases :  would  they  not  always  do  so  ?  la 
it  repentance  to  cease  from  sinning  only  when  the  power  of 
sinning  has  gone?  Is  it  not  a  mockery  to  style  it  repentance, 
when  it  is  not  the  man  who  forsakes  his  sins,  but  his  sins  that 


428  THE  DEATH  TO  DIE 

forsake  the  man  ?  What  is  that  conversion  which  a  man  pro- 
fesses, when  the  nerves  are  unstrung,  the  frame  prostrated,  the 
mind  enfeebled,  the  functions  in  disorder,  the  power  to  think, 
meditate,  and  pray  reduced  to  a  minimum  by  restlessness, 
fever,  and  pain  ?  Whatever  may  come  of  this  in  another  world, 
one  thing  is  certain:  The  Gospel,  rightly  understood,  holds  out 
no  hope  to  delay.  God  promises  pardon  to  the  penitent,  but 
not  a  morrow  to  the  procrastinator ;  and  as  for  those  theories 
which  make  void  the  simple  teachings  of  Christ,  and  promise 
to  show  us  full  ripe  clusters  of  grapes  on  the  bitter  bramble 
and  luscious  figs  on  the  thistle,  they  are  but  inventions  of 
men.  Eeason  and  revelation  have  but  one  voice :  both  warn 
against  rash  boasting,  in  cases  where  the  life  has  not  been 
that  which  a  Christian  man  ought  to  live.  The  solitary  instance 
in  Scripture  of  a  dying  sinner's  repentance  shakes  not  the  weight 
of  the-  general  argument.  Our  Lord,  on  His  cross,  pardoned 
one  of  the  two  that  hung  beside  Him;  nay.  He  said,  "To-day 
ehalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise."  But  the  case  stands 
alone.  One  such  man  was  pardoned,  that  we  might  hope : 
one  such  only,  lest  we  should  presume.  God  showed  His 
power;  but  He  also  at  once  withdrew  and  hid  His  hand,  lest 
men  should  make  a  rule  of  an  exception  and  boldly  continue 
in  sin. 


Sin  the  Detective. 


Literature. 

Atkinson  (J.  H.),  The  Sin  of  Doing  Nothing. 

Boston  (T.),  Sermons,  232,  239,  246. 

Brandt  (J.  L.),  Soul  SoA^ing,  187. 

Brown  (A.  G.),  In  the  Valley  of  Decition,  61. 

Dods  (M.),  Christ  and  Man,  188. 

Kemble  (C),  Memoi-ials  of  a  Closed  Ministry,  i.  103. 

Kingsley  (C),  Village,  Tovnu,  and  Country  Sermons,  52. 

Lambert  (J.  C),  in  Cheat  Texts  of  the  Old  Testament,  237, 

Lewis  (E.  W.),  Some  Views  of  Modem  Theology,  217. 

Macleod  (A.),  The  Child  Jesus,  196. 

Matheson  (Q.),  Moments  on  the  Mount,  43. 

Newman  (J.  H.),  Pa/rochial  and  Plain  Sermons,  iv.  37. 

Newton  (R.),  Bible  Warnings,  138. 

Potts  (A.  W.),  School  Sermons,  56. 

Smellie  (A.),  In  the  Secret  Place,  296. 

Trench  (R.  C),  Brief  Thoughts  and  Meditations,  1. 

Wells  (J.),  Bible  Echoes,  79. 

Christian  World  Pulpit,  lii.  333  (Hammond). 

Preaclier's  Magazine,  xvi.  (1905)  429  (Cowl). 


Sin  the  Detective. 

Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out. — Num.  zzzii.  23. 

1.  When  the  children  of  Israel  arrived  at  the  kingdom  of  Moab, 
on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Jordan,  they  found  large  tracts  of 
pasture-land  especially  suited  to  the  tribes  who  were  rich  in  flocks, 
like  the  tribes  of  Gad,  Eeuben,  and  Manasseh.  These  tribes  begged 
Eleazar  the  priest  to  obtain  from  Moses  permission  for  them  to 
settle  there  permanently.  But  Moses  answered  with  indignation, 
"  Shall  your  brethren  go  to  war,  and  shall  ye  sit  here  ? "  He 
reminded  them  how  the  cowardice  of  the  spies  had  before  brought 
down  on  the  nation  the  anger  of  the  Lord.  The  men  of  Eeuben, 
Gad,  and  Manasseh  told  him  that  they  had  no  intention  of 
deserting  their  brethren.  They  only  wanted  to  settle  their  wives 
and  daughters  in  the  land,  and  then  the  men  of  war  would  go  and 
fight  the  battles  of  the  other  tribes.  Moses  was  content  with  the 
answer,  and  assigned  them  the  land  they  wanted;  but  he  gave 
them  a  warning  to  keep  their  promise :  to  abandon  their  brethren 
was  to  sin  against  God.  And  he  added  the  words  of  the  text — 
words  which  go  to  the  heart  of  every  reader  as  direct  as  any  in 
the  Bible — "  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out." 

^  This  is  one  of  those  passages  in  the  inspired  writings  which, 
though  introduced  on  a  particular  occasion  and  with  a  limited 
meaning,  express  a  general  truth,  such  as  we  seem  at  once  to  feel 
as  being  far  greater  than  the  context  requires,  and  which  we  use 
apart  from  it.  Moses  warned  the  Keubenites  and  the  Gadites, 
that  if  they,  who  had  already  been  allotted  their  inheritance,  did 
not  assist  their  brethren  in  gaining  theirs,  their  sin  would  find 
them  out,  or  be  visited  on  them.  And,  while  he  so  spoke.  He 
who  spoke  through  him,  God,  the  Holy  Spirit,  conveyed,  as  we 
beheve,  a  deeper  meaning  under  his  words,  for  the  edification  of 
His  Church  to  the  end ;  viz.  he  intimated  that  great  law  of  God's 
governance,  to  which  all  who  study  that  governance  will  bear 
witnesB,  that  sin  is  ever  followed  by  punishment.     Day  and  night 


432  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

follow  each  other  not  more  surely  than  punishment  comes  upon 
gin.  Whether  the  sin  be  great  or  little,  momentary  or  habitual, 
wilful  or  through  infirmity,  its  own  peculiar  punishment  seems, 
according  to  the  law  of  nature,  to  follow,  as  far  as  our  experience 
of  that  law  carries  us, — sooner  or  later,  lighter  or  heavier,  as  the 
case  may  be.^ 

2.  The  truth  of  the  text  is  that  our  sin  will  not  be  done  with 
us  when  we  are  done  with  it ;  that,  however  short  a  time  we  give 
to  sin,  however  hastily  we  flee  from  it,  however  skilfully  cover 
our  retreat  by  plunging  into  a  thicket  of  engagements  and  good 
deeds,  our  sin  will  track  and  dog  us  through  every  turn  of  life 
until  it  finds  us  out  and  pulls  us  down  and  compels  us  to  under- 
stand that  every  evil  done  is  evil  to  him  who  did  it. 

^  It  is  strange,  at  first  sight,  that  those  texts  which  warn  men 
that  their  sins  will  be  punished  in  this  life  are  just  the  most 
unpleasant  texts  in  the  whole  Bible ;  that  men  shrink  from  them 
more,  and  shut  their  eyes  to  them  more  than  they  do  to  those 
texts  which  threaten  them  with  hell-fire  and  everlasting  death. 
Strange !  that  men  should  be  more  afraid  of  being  punished  in 
this  life  for  a  few  years  than  in  the  life  to  come  for  ever  and  ever ; 
— and  yet  not  strange  if  we  consider ;  for  to  worldly  and  sinful 
souls,  that  life  after  death  and  the  flames  of  hell  seem  quite 
distant  and  dim — things  of  which  they  know  little  and  believe 
less,  while  this  world  they  do  know,  and  are  quite  certain  that  its 
good  things  are  pleasant  and  its  bad  things  unpleasant,  and  they 
are  thoroughly  afraid  of  losing  them* 


The  Detection  of  Sin. 

Every  sin  brings  its  punishment.  This  is  a  matter  of  Divine 
law.  It  is  inflexible.  There  has  never  been  any  deviation  from 
it,  and  it  was  scepticism  respecting  this  law  that  ruined  the  world. 
Satan  circumvented  our  first  parents — he  caused  Eve  to  doubt  the 
reality  of  this  fact :  "  Ye  shall  not  surely  die."  He  denied  the 
inflexible  law,  that  he  who  sins  must  suffer. 

1.  The  text  does  not  say  when  our  sin  will  be  detected.     It 
does  not  say,  "  Be   sure   your    sin  will  find   you   out  at  once." 
It  says,  "  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out " — if  not  in  life,  yet 
>  J.  H.  Newman.  *  C.  Eingsley. 


NUMBERS  xxxii.  23.  433 

ultimately.  It  is  only  a  question  of  time,  nothing  else.  When 
travelling  in  Switzerland  one  is  often  interested  in  observing 
what  a  space  of  time  frequently  elapses  between  the  shout  you 
raise  and  the  echo  which  comes  back  from  the  distant  mountain- 
tops.  You  cry,  "  Ho ! "  There  is  a  dead  silence,  and  you  think 
your  voice  is  lost  in  the  space.  Oh  no.  Those  waves  of  sound 
are  travelling,  and,  if  you  wait,  the  voice  will  come  back  again, 
and  by  and  by  the  mountain-heads  fling  back,  "  Ho !  Ho ! "  and 
you  find  that,  after  all,  it  was  only  a  question  of  time.  Your  own 
voice  was  bound  to  return  to  you. 

^  "  My  Lord  Cardinal,"  said  the  unhappy  French  queen  to 
Richelieu,  "  God  does  not  pay  at  the  end  of  every  week ;  but  at 
the  last  He  pays." 

^  In  1693,  Louis  xiv.  of  France  destroyed  the  tombs  of  the 
emperors  at  Spiers  by  the  hand  of  an  officer  named  Hentz ;  and 
on  the  very  same  day  in  1793 — exactly  one  hundred  years  after- 
wards— by  one  Hentz,  the  representative  of  the  people,  the  tombs 
of  the  French  kings  at  St.  Denis  were  broken  open,  and  the  ashes 
of  Louis  XIV.  were  the  first  to  be  scattered  to  the  winds.^ 

2.  The  text  says  that,  whether  late  or  soon,  detection  is  sure. 
There  is  something  about  these  words  which  we  cannot  get  away 
from.  We  know,  of  course,  that  in  highly  civilized  countries, 
with  the  most  complete  police  machinery,  a  large  amount  of 
crime  escapes  detection.  In  less  civilized  earlier  times,  when 
communication  was  difficult,  the  amount  of  undetected  crime 
must  have  been  infinitely  greater.  If  we  leave  our  crimes  and 
think  of  lesser  sins  and  offences — such  as  thieving,  untruth,  sins 
of  the  flesh — there  must  be  a  large  amount  in  every  community 
which  the  eye  of  man  fails  to  detect  and  his  hand  to  punish. 
For  one  forgery  which  is  discovered  and  punished  there  are 
thousands  of  cases  of  adulteration  and  trade  deceptions  which  are 
not  only  unpunished  but  unsuspected.  And  indeed  it  is  obvious, 
from  a  cursory  glance  at  life,  that  God  did  not  intend  all  our 
offences  and  shortcomings  to  be  detected  and  punished  by 
mankind.  There  would  be  no  freedom  of  action,  no  freedom  of 
development,  no  independence  of  character,  if  it  were  not  so. 
But  we  cannot  on  that  account  escape  from  the  consequences  of 
sinning.     Moses  does  not  say  that  the  sin  of  these  tribes  would 

» J.  Wella, 
OEN.-NUM. — 28 


434  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

be  detected.  There  was  no  reason  to  say  so.  It  would  be  clear 
and  palpable  enough.  Men  could  not  settle  down  in  selfish 
comfort  and  refuse  to  fight  their  country's  battles  in  secret.  They 
must  do  it  openly  and  before  all  eyes.  But  their  conduct 
would  not  escape  punishment,  even  if  it  were  not  revenged  by 
their  fellow-tribes.  It  would  find  them  out,  and  work  its 
consequences.  It  would  cut  them  off  from  sympathy  and  union 
with  their  nation.  They  would  cease  to  be  Israelites  and  part 
of  a  great  people. 

^  The  difference  between  the  committal  of  a  crime  and  the 
punishment  which  the  community  inflicts  through  its  judges  and 
its  courts,  and  the  committal  of  a  sin  and  the  punishment  which 
follows,  is  both  great  and  deep,  A  crime  is  not  necessarily  the 
same  thing  as  a  sin ;  it  often  is,  because  God  is  revealing  Himself 
in  the  progressive  life  of  humanity;  and  accordingly  the  laws 
which  govern  the  community  and  which  are  therefore  expressions 
of  its  life,  may  also  be  partial  expressions  of  the  nature  and 
the  will  of  God ;  but  in  committing  a  crime  a  man  puts  himself 
over  against  the  community;  in  committing  a  sin,  he  puts 
himself  over  against  God.  A  man  may  break  the  law  of  the 
community  without  breaking  also  the  law  of  God.  There  is 
another  difference.  A  crime  may  be  undetected,  and  therefore 
unpunished ;  all  the  vigilance  and  the  machinery  of  the  law  may 
be  unable  to  bring  a  criminal  to  justice.  But  even  those  of  us 
who  do  not  understand  how  it  works  out,  have  an  unerring 
instinct  of  the  truth  that  all  sin  is  and  must  be  punished, 
somehow,  somewhere,  and  somewhen.  Because  we  have  thought 
that  such  punishment  for  sin  does  not  follow  in  this  life,  we  have 
got  into  the  way  of  postulating  a  future  hell  in  which  those 
punishments  shall  be  exacted,  measure  for  measure,  and  from 
which  none  shall  come  forth  until  he  has  paid  the  last  farthing.^ 

^  In  Greek  history  we  read  of  a  man  named  Ibycus  who 
lived  five  centuries  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  was  a  popular 
poet  in  his  own  generation.  While  travelling  through  an 
unfrequented  region  near  Corinth,  he  was  set  upon  by  a  band 
of  robbers  and  mortally  wounded.  As  he  was  on  the  point  of 
expiring  he  saw  a  flock  of  cranes  that  happened  just  then  to  be 
flying  overhead,  and  in  the  absence  of  any  human  helper,  he 
called  aloud  with  his  last  breath  upon  those  birds  of  the  air  to 
avenge  his  cruel  death.  Not  long  afterwards  there  was  a  great 
gathering  in  the  theatre  of  Corinth,  which,  like  all  the  theatres 
of  ancient  Greece,  stood  open  to  the  sky.     Among  the  crowd  sat 

'  E.  W.  Lewis. 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  435 

one  of  the  murderers  of  Ibycus.  The  drama  was  going  on,  whec 
suddenly  a  flock  of  cranes  appeared  on  the  horizon.  They  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  until  at  last  they  seemed  to  stop  and  hover  in 
the  air  above  the  heads  of  the  audience.  The  conscience-stricken 
murderer,  seized  with  terror,  instinctively  exclaimed,  "  Behold 
the  avengers  of  Ibycus ! "  His  words  were  overheard,  and  he  was 
seized  and  put  on  trial.  He  confessed  the  guilt  of  himself  and 
his  accomplices,  and  all  of  them  were  sentenced  to  death.^ 

^  The  ancients  said  that  Nemesis,  the  goddess  of  vengeance, 
was  slow  in  her  movements,  being  lame  of  her  feet ;  but  though 
she  was  slow,  she  never  failed  to  catch  her  victim,  for  while  he 
was  sleeping  she  was  still  pursuing.  And  they  believed  that 
nature  herself — the  very  birds  of  the  air,  the  very  waves  of  the 
sea,  the  very  trees  of  the  wood,  the  very  stones  of  the  street 
— would  cry  aloud  to  prevent  a  crime  from  being  concealed.  In 
Hood's  powerful  ballad,  "The  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram,"  which 
is  founded  on  an  actual  case,  we  have  a  kind  of  allegory  of  this 
very  truth.  Eugene  Aram  had  murdered  a  man  and  cast  his 
body  into  the  river — "  A  sluggish  water,  black  as  ink,  the  depth 
was  so  extreme."  Next  morning  he  visited  the  place,  and  this 
waa  what  he  saw — 

I  sought  the  black  accursed  pool 

With  a  wild  misgiving  eye; 
And  I  saw  the  Dead  in  the  river-bed, 

For  the  faithless  stream  was  dry ! 

Upon  this  he  covered  the  corpse  with  heaps  of  leaves ;  but  now 
a  mighty  wind  swept  through  the  wood,  and  once  more  laid  his 
secret  bare  before  the  eyes  of  the  sun. 

Then  down  I  cast  me  on  my  face. 

And  first  began  to  weep; 
For  I  knew  my  secret  then  was  one 

That  earth  refused  to  keep! 
Or  land,  or  sea,  though  he  should  be 

Ten  thousand  fathoms  deep. 

^  In  the  year  1800,  France  being  then  at  war  with  us,  a 
Danish  vessel,  suspected  of  being  in  the  French  service,  was 
captured  at  Kingston,  West  Indies.  But  the  charge  could  not  be 
proved.  The  sailors  of  the  warship  Abergavenny,  then  at  the 
same  station,  were  amusing  themselves  with  catching  sharks.  On 
opening  a  shark,  they  found  in  its  maw  a  pocket-book  containing 

*  J.  0.  Lambert 


436  SIN  THE   DETECTIVE 

bille  of  lading  which  proved  that  the  captui-ed  vessel  belonged  to 
the  enemy.  The  captain  when  pursued  had  thrown  his  pocket- 
book  into  the  sea,  and  the  shark  had  devoured  it.  The  captain's 
sin  found  him  out  through  the  maw  of  the  shark,  and  his  ship 
became  a  British  prize.^ 

•^1  There  is  a  coal  mine  in  England  where  there  is  a  limestone 
formation  continually  going  on.  The  water  that  trickles  through 
the  rock  is  fully  charged  with  lime,  and  then,  as  the  water  drains 
off,  it  leaves  a  slab  of  pure  white  limestone ;  but  as  the  miners  are 
at  work  the  black  coal  dust  rises,  and  then  falls  again  on  this 
limestone,  and  forms  a  black  layer.  But  during  the  night  when 
they  are  not  at  work,  the  dust  does  not  fall  and  there  comes  a 
white  layer.  Then  the  next  day,  of  course,  there  is  a  black  layer. 
And  if  the  men  keep  the  Lord's  Day,  and  do  not  work,  it  can  be 
seen,  because  there  is  a  white  layer  three  times  as  thick  as  any 
other.  There  is  the  whole  of  the  Saturday  night  and  there  is  the 
whole  of  the  Sunday.  The  miners  call  that  limestone  the  "  Sunday 
rock,"  because  you  have  only  to  look  at  that  to  tell  whether 
they  have  been  at  work  on  Sunday  or  not.  As  their  work  goes 
on  there  is  the  record  in  the  limestone.^ 

The  floods  arise — 0  God  !  the  floods  arise, 
And  wash  my  slain  from  out  their  burial  sands; 
0  hide  me  from  the  onslaught  of  their  eyes, 
The  frightful  siege  of  their  unhallowed  handa' 

n. 

Sm  Itsblf  the  Detective. 

1.  The  text  does  not  teach  simply  that  every  sin  will  be  found 
out.  It  is  no  mere  general  expression  about  the  discovery  of  sin. 
Its  meaning  is  particular  and  personal  It  is,  "  Be  sure  your  sin 
will  find  you  out."  That  is  a  very  singular  expression.  There 
is  the  idea  of  the  detective.  The  sin  is  following  the  man — 
tracking  him  year  after  year;  and  then  there  comes  a  moment 
when  it  puts  its  hand  on  the  man's  shoulder,  and  says,  "  Now  I 
have  caught  you."  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out.  It  is  not 
a  man  arresting  his  sin :  it  is  his  sin  arresting  him.  It  is  not 
a  man  discovering  his  crime:  it  is  his  crime  discovering  him. 
Here  is  a  very  successful  sinner,  who  throws  everybody  off  the 
track  He  goes  in  and  out  among  Christian  communities,  and 
'  J.  Wells.  '  A.  G.  Brown.  *  Anna  Bonaton. 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  437 

nobody  suspects  him.  He  moves  in  a  good  circle  of  society,  and 
manages  so  to  talk  and  so  to  act  that  no  one  entertains  a  suspicion 
of  his  being  a  hypocrite.  Yet  there  is  one  who  has  followed  the 
man  like  his  shadow :  there  is  one  who  has  turned  with  every 
turning,  and  kept  the  track  like  a  bloodhound  of  keenest  scent. 
It  is  the  man's  own  sin.  It  has  tracked  him  everywhere,  and  at 
last  lays  bold  of  him  with  a  shout  of  triumph,  and  says,  "  Now 
I  have  found  you  out." 

^  Hindered  by  opposing  circumstances,  counterworked  by 
happy  influences,  delayed  by  time,  retarded  by  distance,  sin  is  an 
influence  that  works  its  way  towards  a  man,  moving  on  after 
him  unseen,  till  it  finds  him,  till  it  finds  him  out.  In  some  shape 
it  yet  confronts  him,  and  he  recognizes  it.  He  and  it  parted 
company  in  boyhood,  in  youth,  a  lifetime  ago;  and  he  thought 
it  neutralized,  dead  and  buried  and  forgotten ;  but  it  stiU  lives, 
and  wUl  rise  like  a  spectre  beside  him — it  will  find  him  out.  It 
may  not  interfere  with  affection,  with  trade,  with  prosperity ;  it 
may  stand  beside  all  these  in  abeyance.  And  it  may  be  just 
through  these  that  it  will  find  him  out,  as  Jacob's  did.  Even 
individual  sins,  like  Jacob's  or  like  David's,  avenge  themselves ; 
and,  much  more,  a  course  of  sin.  Sin  finds  a  man  out  in  the 
usual  recognized  penalty;  or  it  finds  him  out  in  the  fear  that 
it  is  going  to  find  him  out,  in  the  unquiet,  foreboding  conscience ; 
or  it  finds  him  out  in  the  bitter  compunction  and  sorrow  for  the 
wrong  he  has  done,  and  the  loathing  of  himself  when  he  thinks 
of  it ;  or — and  this  is  the  way  to  be  dreaded  most  of  all — it  will 
find  him  out  in  the  hardening  of  his  mind,  and  the  deterioration 
of  his  character.  For  it  is  vain  to  think  that  you  can  do  evil, 
and  reap  no  consequences  from  it;  that  you  may  commit  sin, 
and  have  done  with  it.  The  hand  of  the  dyer  is  not  more  certainly 
Imbued  with  the  colours  in  which  he  works  than  the  soul  takes 
on  the  complexion  of  the  thoughts  in  which  it  indulges.^ 

^  A  man  goes  on,  for  years  perhaps,  and  no  one  ever  discovers 
his  particular  failings,  nor  does  he  know  them  himself ;  till  at  length 
he  is  brought  into  certain  circumstances  which  bring  them  out. 
Hence  men  turn  out  so  very  differently  from  what  was  expected ; 
and  we  are  seldom  able  to  tell  beforehand  of  another,  and  scarcely 
ever  dare  we  promise  for  ourselves,  as  regards  the  future.  The 
proverb,  for  instance,  says.  Power  tries  a  man ;  so  do  riches,  so  do 
various  changes  of  life.  We  find  that,  after  all.  we  do  not  know 
him,  though  we  have  been  acquainted  with  hini  for  years.  We 
are  disappointed,  nay,  sometimes  startled,  as  if  he  had  almost  lost 


438  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

his  identity ;  whereas,  perchance,  it  is  but  the  coming  to  light  of 
sins  committed  long  before  we  knew  him.^ 

^  George  Eliot  has  taught  this  lesson  more  powerfully  perhaps 
than  any  other  writer  of  modern  times.  Again  and  again  she 
shows  how  a  single  sin,  committed  long  years  ago,  not  merely 
bears  its  appointed  fruit,  but  comes  back  at  last  to  the  author  of 
it  laden  with  these  accumulated  results,  and  casts  them  down  at 
his  feet,  saying,  "  These  fruits  of  sin  are  yours."  The  poor,  shiver- 
ing soul  would  like  to  disown  them  then ;  but  he  cannot.  They 
are  all  his.  His  own  iniquities  have  taken  him,  and  he  is  holden 
with  the  cords  of  his  own  sin.  He  set  the  stone  rolling,  and  now 
it  has  returned  upon  him.  He  broke  through  the  hedge  of  the 
Divine  law,  and  the  serpent  that  was  lurking  there  has  bitten  him.^ 

2.  The  name  that  is  usually  given  to  this  detective  power  of 
sin  is  Conscience.  Some  sinners  are  never  found  out  in  the  world 
around,  they  are  not  openly  punished ;  but  for  all  that  they  don't 
escape.  They  carry  a  detective  within  from  whom  they  might 
escape  if  they  could  tear  out  their  very  nature.  Conscience  finds 
them  out.  And  how  conscience  does  worry  the  sinner  with 
remorse  !  A  fox  was  once  caught  in  a  trap,  but  in  the  morning 
was  found  only  one  of  his  legs.  The  wise  creature  when  caught 
concluded  that  it  would  be  better  to  limp  back  to  his  den  with 
three  legs  than,  having  four  legs,  to  perish  in  pain.  He  turned 
upon  his  leg  and  gnawed  it  through.  That  fox  teaches  us  the 
exact  meaning  of  remorse ;  for  the  word  means  to  bite  backwards, 
to  gnaw  oneself.  Sin  finds  the  sinner  out  when  conscience 
devours  the  soul.  That  heathen  New  Zealander  understood  this, 
who  gave  back  a  shilling  he  had  stolen  from  the  white  man, 
because  of  the  "quarrelling  going  on  inside  him,"  as  he  said, 
"  between  the  good  man  and  the  bad  man." 

And  now  I  can  recall  the  time  gone  by, 

The  pure  fresh  sky 
Of  spring,  'neath  which  we  first  met,  he  and  I, 
The  smell  of  rainy  fields  in  early  spring. 
The  song  of  thrushes,  and  the  glimmering 
Of  rain-drenched  leaves  by  sudden  sun  made  bright, 

The  tender  light 
Of  peaceful  evening,  and  the  saintly  night. 
Sweet  still  the  scent  of  roses;  only  this, 
They  hau  a  perfume  then  which  now  I  miss. 

>  J.  H.  Navniu.  'J.  0.  Umbert. 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  439 

Yea,  too,  I  can  recall  the  night  wherein 

Did  first  begin 
The  joy  of  that  intoxicating  sin. 
Late  was  the  day  in  April,  gray  and  still. 
Too  faint  to  gladden,  and  too  mild  to  chill; 
Hot  lay  upon  my  lips  the  last  night's  kiss, 

The  first  of  his; 
I  wandered  blindly  between  shame  and  bliss; 
And,  yearning,  hung  all  day  about  the  lane, 
Where,  in  the  evening,  he  should  come  again."* 

^  Some  of  you  may,  like  myself,  have  seen  Vesuvius.  Some- 
times it  looks  the  quietest  mountain  you  can  imagine.  There  are 
green  slopes.  There  are  people  dwelling  at  its  foot.  The  vine 
festoons  its  flanks,  and  all  is  loveliness.  Yes,  but  wait  a  little. 
It  opens  its  red  mouth,  and  its  crater  vomits  forth  smoke  and 
fire  and  ashes,  and  now  down  its  flanks  there  comes  the  burning, 
glowing  tide  of  molten  lava.  Hell  seems  let  loose  from  its  deep 
caverns.  So  it  is  with  a  man's  conscience.  It  may  for  years  be 
quiet  and  still,  with  perhaps  an  occasional  murmur,  faint  and 
fleeting;  but  there  comes  a  day  when  the  sinner's  sins  confront 
him.     Then  does  conscience  do  her  work.^ 

3.  What  are  the  methods  which  sin  the  detective  uses  ? 

(1)  Sin  finds  out  the  sinner,  first,  with  shameful  memories. 
The  sinner  may  flee  from  the  past,  but  he  cannot  alter  it,  and  the 
waters  of  Lethe  are  fabulous.  "Teach  me,"  bitterly  exclaimed 
Themistocles  to  the  man  who  offered  to  improve  his  memory, 
"teach  me  to  forget."  Here  there  is  no  forgetting.  The  past 
always  stands  as  you  have  made  it.  There  are  men  who  from  the 
first  have  resisted  temptation  and  refused  to  stoop  to  folly,  who 
have  lived  a  wise,  honourable,  aspiring  life ;  but  you  are  not  one 
of  these  and  never  can  be.  If  you  have  spent  your  youth  in  a 
shameful,  low,  animal,  selfish,  misguided  fashion,  no  power  on 
earth  or  in  heaven  can  alter  that.  You  can  never  live  your 
youth  over  again.  You  know  what  it  might  have  been,  you  know 
also  what  it  is.  However  much  you  repent,  however  thoroughly 
you  reform,  you  cannot  undo  that  piece  of  your  life  and  replace 
it  with  conduct  you  could  now  look  back  upon  with  pleasure. 
The  shuttle  you  once  so  recklessly  and  eagerly  shot  across  your 
life  has  woven  into  it  a  pattern  which  shaU  now  for  ever  char- 
acterize your  early  life. 

^  Philip  Bourke  Marston.  ■  A.  G.  Brown. 


440  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

^  Psychologists  tell  us  that  memory  never  really  loses  any- 
thing. Things  pass  from  our  consciousness  and  seem  to  be 
utterly  forgotten ;  but  they  are  only  lying  below  the  surface  of 
the  mind,  ready  to  rise  again  into  vivid  life  in  their  own  time. 
Now  and  then  we  get  slight  hints  of  these  mysterious  potenti- 
alities of  our  being.  Events  long  buried  in  the  abyss  of  our 
forgotten  years  suddenly  come  back  to  us  like  half-remembered 
dreams.  Some  unwonted  circumstance  serves  as  the  key  to  a 
secret  spring,  and  straightway  the  locked  chambers  of  the  soul 
fly  open. 

^  What  worse  torment  could  be  imagined  than  to  be  com- 
pelled to  remember  all  one's  past  sins,  to  be  compelled  to  see 
them  in  their  naked  hideousness,  to  be  compelled  to  acknowledge 
them  in  their  far-stretching  consequences  as  one's  very  own  ? 
Mediaeval  theologians  pictured  the  abode  of  the  lost  as  a  vast 
furnace  filled  with  leaping  tongues  of  flame.  Dante  pictured  it, 
no  lees  awfully,  as  a  realm  of  thick-ribbed  everlasting  ice,  the 
breath  of  which  was  sufficient  to  freeze  both  body  and  spirit. 
But  think  of  the  state  of  a  man  whose  sins  have  found  him  out, 
who  has  to  say,  "  Which  way  I  fly  is  hell ;  myself  am  hell."  ^ 

^  A  fine  scholar  once  told  me  that  he  had  done  plenty  of 
things  to  regret  at  school;  but  one  only  was  a  real  burden  to 
him.  "  Once,"  he  said,  "  myself  and  some  others  had  been  doing 
something  wrong,  and  the  thing  had  awakened  suspicion,  and 
was  likely  to  be  discovered.  I  went  boldly  to  the  headmaster 
and  asked  him  to  put  it  in  my  hands,  as  I  thought  I  could  find 
it  out  if  anybody  could.  He  said,  '  I  willingly  put  it  into  your 
hands.'  I  need  not  say  that  it  never  was  found  out ;  but  it  is 
the  only  thing  for  which  I  was  really  punished.  I  am  ashamed 
of  myself  whenever  I  think  of  it — and  I  think  of  it  incessantly, 
and  would  give  anything  if  I  could  tell  the  whole  business  to  the 
world  and  be  flogged  for  it."  His  sin  was  not  found  out,  but  it 
found  him  out,  and  stuck  to  him  through  life.^ 

What  shall  blot 
The  memories  of  bitter  years, 
Of  joys  which  have  been,  but  are  not, 
And  floods  of  unforgotten  tears? 

The  painful  records  graven  clear 
On  carven  rock  or  deathless  page; 

The  long  unceasing  reign  of  fear. 
The  weary  tale  of  lust  and  rage; 

»J.  C.  Umbert.  •  A.  W.  Pott^ 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  441 

The  ills  whose  dark  sum  baffles  thought, 

Done  day  by  day  beneath  the  sun  ? 
"That  which  is  done,"  the  old  sage  taught, 

"  Not  God  Himself  can  make  undone." 

For  that  which  has  been,  still  must  live, 
And  'neath  the  shallow  Present  last. 

Oh,  who  will  sweet  oblivion  give, 
Who  free  us  from  the  dreadful  Past?* 

(2)  Sin  finds  out  the  sinner  not  only  by  bitter  memories  of 
the  past  but  also  by  an  unhappy  and  ineffective  present.  It  cripples 
and  incapacitates  us  for  present  duty  and  enjoyment.  In  our 
past  our  present  is  rooted,  and  from  it  we  are  wholly  derived. 
Let  no  doctrine  of  regeneration  delude  us  into  the  belief  that  at 
any  moment  we  please  we  can  leap  into  a  wise,  virtuous,  refined, 
godly  character.  It  is  not  so.  If  we  give  entertainment  to  evil 
thoughts  now,  they  will  not  be  forbidden  entrance  when  we 
would  exclude  them.  If  we  accustom  ourselves  to  look  at  things 
from  a  worldly,  frivolous,  impure  point  of  view,  that  attitude  will 
continue  when  we  would  fain  be  heavenly-minded.  The  child  is 
allowed  to  become  self-willed,  indolent,  sensual,  passionate,  crafty. 
and  all  the  spiritual  strength  of  the  man  is  consumed  in  repress- 
ing these  pitiful  vices. 

^  When   the   drunken   comrade   mutters  and   the  great  guard- 
lantern  gutters 
And  the  horror  of  our  fail  is  written  plain, 
Every  secret,  self-revealing  on  the  aching  whitewashed  ceiling, 
Do  you  wonder  that  we  drug  ourselves  from  pain  ? 
We  have  done  with  Hope  and  Honour,  we  are  lost  to   Love 

and  Truth, 
We  are  dropping  down  the  ladder  rung  by  rung. 
And  the  measure  of  our  torment  is  the  measure  of  our  youth, 
God  help  us,  for  we  knew  the  worst  too  young.^ 

4  There  are  two  lines  along  which  sins  follow  us  from  the 
past.  Their  consequences  appear  in  our  Hfe  or  in  our  character. 
They  bring  misery  or  they  bring  moral  degradation.  Sins  which 
involve  transgression  of  the  laws  of  bodily  health  bring  visible 
retribution. 

•  Sir  Lewis  Morris,  Poems,  102. 

'  Kipling,  Barrack-Hoom  Balla4$,  64. 


442  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

(1)  /n  our  life. — If  there  are  any  who  think  lightly  of  sin 
and  who  are  encouraged  in  sin  by  an  implicit  understanding  that 
no  great  harm  will  come  of  it,  let  them  be  assured  that  their 
sin  will  find  them  out.  Higher  thoughts  will  one  day  visit 
them,  higher  aims  will  one  day  win  their  spirit,  a  nobler  view 
of  life  will  present  itself  to  them ;  and  how  are  they  to  respond 
to  those  new  and  higher  calls  if  their  nature  is  debased  by  sin  ? 
"  You  do  yourself  incredible  wrong.  There  are  duties  in  life,  social, 
domestic,  personal,  which  you  will  despise  yourself  if  you  cannot 
discharge,  and  you  will  not  be  able  to  discharge  them  if  in  youth 
you  do  not  act  your  part  well  and  keep  yourself  unsullied  by  the 
contamination  of  sin.  There  are  enjoyments  in  life  for  which 
sin  unfits  you.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  highest  enjoyments,  but 
of  natural  enjoyments,  in  the  same  kind  as  those  you  now  crave, 
and  which  are  possible  only  to  those  whose  conscience  is  laden 
with  no  evil  remembrances,  whose  nature  is  contracted  and 
withered  by  no  familiarity  with  sin,  who  can  give  themselves  to 
enjoyment  with  the  freedom,  fearlessness,  and  abandonment  which 
are  reserved  for  the  innocent  only.  In  vain  will  you  strive  to 
leave  your  past  behind  you.  If  you  sin,  then  no  more  at  all  can 
you  have  that  fineness  of  feeling  which  only  ignorance  of  evil 
can  preserve,  no  more  that  high  and  great  conscientiousness 
which  once  broken  is  never  repaired,  no  more  that  courage  and 
fyisdom  which  accompany  an  upright  and  steady  career,  no  more 
that  respect  from  other  men  which  instinctively  departs  from 
those  who  have  lost  self-respect."^ 

^  One  of  the  shortest  and  most  telling  sermons  I  ever  heard, 
was  by  a  friend  who  had  charge  of  an  hospital.  Going  round  his 
wards  with  him  one  Sunday  morning,  we  came  to  a  young  man, 
whose  secret  sins  had  found  him  out.  As  the  young  doctor  laid 
bare  his  hideous  sores,  he  said  in  a  slow  and  solemn  tone,  "  Be 
not  deceived ;  God  is  not  mocked ;  for  whatsoever  a  man  soweth, 
that  shall  he  also  reap."  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  present  at  the 
last  judgment.* 

(2)  In  owr  character. — Some  men's  sins,  as  St.  Paul  says,  go 
before  to  judgment,  and  some  follow  after ;  and  these  latter  are 
the  sins  which  we  should  dread,  and  which  are  the  most  baneful 
in  their  results.  Such  sins  eat  into  the  character.  They 
necessitate  duplicity.     There  is  no  real  brightness  in  the  life — no 

J  Marcus  Dods.  »  J.  Wellt. 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  443 

openness,  no  straightforward  look,  no  real  manliness.  "  0  what 
a  tangled  web  we  weave  when  first  we  practise  to  deceive."  The 
incessant  dread  of  detection  falls  like  a  pall  over  the  life.  The 
incessant  necessity  of  concealment  involves  ever  fresh  deception, 
and  makes  the  life  a  prolonged  lie.  The  mind  cannot  be  at  ease  ; 
the  thoughts  are  never  free  and  disengaged;  and  this  makes 
secret  sins  so  injurious  intellectually.  Men  of  mark  in  literature 
have  led  dissolute  lives,  have  been  intemperate  and  immoral. 
No  doubt  this  has  had  a  baneful  effect  upon  their  work.  It 
has  made,  perhaps  must  make,  the  highest  work  beyond  their 
reach.  He  that  would  write  an  heroic  poem,  says  Milton,  must 
live  an  heroic  life ;  but  I  question  very  much  if  any  good  intel- 
lectual work  has  ever  been  produced  by  the  author  of  an  un- 
detected crime  or  the  perpetrator  of  an  undiscovered  fraud.^ 

^  A  well-known  theologian  has  argued  against  the  identity 
of  consequence  and  punishment  in  the  following  words :  "  Two 
men  are  equally  guilty  of  drunkenness  and  profligacy.  But  one 
of  them  is  a  man  of  robust  constitution :  he  has  wealth  and 
leisure.  He  sins  and  sins  flagrantly;  but  he  shoots  in  the 
autumn,  hunts  in  the  winter,  and  spends  his  summer  in  his  yacht 
on  the  coast  of  Scotland  or  of  Norway.  The  other  has  weak 
health,  and  is  compelled  by  his  circumstances  to  lead  a  sedentary 
life.  The  one,  notwithstanding  his  vices,  lives  till  he  is  seventy, 
and  is  vigorous  to  the  last ;  the  other  is  the  victim  of  miserable 
diseases,  and  dies  an  ignominious  death  long  before  he  is  fifty. 
Where  is  the  equality  in  the  'visible'  penalties  of  sin?  The 
eternal  laws  appear  to  receive  the  bribes  of  the  rich  and  to  trample 
on  the  helplessness  of  poverty."  Such  an  argument  is  specious, 
but  misleading.  The  consequences  of  sins  against  bodily  health 
are  of  course  counteracted  by  attention  to  the  laws  of  bodily 
health.  And  if  the  sinner  does  not  transgress  these  laws  he  will  not 
suffer  in  his  body.  But  this  merely  brings  out  more  conspicuously 
the  much-neglected  fact  that  the  chief  punishment  and  con- 
sequences of  sin  must  be  looked  for  in  the  character.  All  outward 
disaster,  all  disease  and  wretchedness  that  sin  works  in  the  hfe, 
are  but  the  outward  sign  of  the  ruin  it  works  within.  It  is  there 
the  gravest  consequences  are  found ;  there,  in  the  callousness,  the 
carnality,  the  cruel  selfishness,  the  wholly  degraded  nature  of  the 
sinner  that  the  true  character  and  the  lasting  consequence  of  sin 
are  to  be  seen.* 

^  Single  sins  indulged  or  neglected  are  often  the  cause  of  other 

'  A,   W.  PottR.  '  Marcus  Dods. 


444  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

defects  of  obaraoter,  which  seem  to  have  no  connection  with  them, 
but  which  after  all  are  rather  symptomatic  of  the  former,  than 
themselves  at  the  bottom  of  the  mischief.  This  is  generally 
acknowledged  as  regards  a  sceptical  temper  of  mind,  which 
commonly  is  assailed  by  argmnent  in  vain,  the  root  of  the  evil 
lying  deeper,  viz.  in  habits  of  vice,  which,  however,  the  guilty 
parties  strenuously  maintain  to  be  quite  a  distinct  matter,  to 
relate  to  their  conduct,  and  to  have  no  influence  whatever  upon 
their  reason  or  their  opinions.^ 

^  Some  time  ago  a  man  came  to  see  me  whose  nobler  spirit  had 
been  awakened.  He  told  me  that  he  realized  the  beauty  and  the 
truth  of  the  ideal ;  that  a  great  longing  had  been  born  within  him 
to  reach  to  it,  and  to  follow  its  gleam  ;  but  that  the  more  he  tried, 
the  more  was  he  conscious  of  an  incapacity,  which  seemed  to  clog 
his  feet,  and  fetter  him  to  low  things.  He  wanted  to  run  the  race 
and  gain  the  prize,  and  he  was  trying  to  break  himself  free  from 
the  past,  and  lay  aside  every  weight ;  but  there  seemed  to  be 
a  weight  which  he  could  not  lay  aside ;  which  clung  to  him ; 
hampered  his  feet;  tripped  him  up;  baffled  him;  until  he  was 
almost  despairing.  What  is  the  explanation  of  this  experience  ? 
I  found  as  we  talked  together  that  my  friend  had  been  in  past 
years  guilty  of  consistent  sin  ;  not  gross  sin  in  our  worldly  sense, 
but  consistent  sin  ;  he  had  gradually  formed  a  habit  of  choosing 
the  lower  ;  he  never  seemed  to  be  any  the  worse  for  it ;  nobody 
ever  found  him  out ;  but  all  the  time,  in  the  silence  and  in  secret, 
his  sin  had  been  finding  him  out ;  and  now  it  had  foimd  him.* 

Soon,  the  broken  law  avenged  itself; 
For,  oh,  the  pity  of  it !  to  feel  the  fire 
Grow  colder  daily,  and  the  soaring  soul 
Sunk  deep  in  grosser  mire.* 

5.  But  it  is  always  possible  to  evade  the  lash  of  conscience  and 
ignore  the  loss  of  character  as  long  as  sin  is  spoken  of  generally. 
It  is  necessary  to  have  the  memory  fixed  on  some  particular  sin, 
to  have  the  attention  drawn  to  some  particular  habit. 

I'm  willin'  a  man  should  go  tollable  strong 

Agin  wrong  in  the  abstract,  fer  thet  kind  o'  wrong 

Is  oilers  unpop'lar  an'  never  gits  pitied, 

Because  it's  a  crime  no  one  never  committed ; 

But  he  mus'n't  be  hard  on  partickler  sins, 

Coz  then  he'll  be  kickin'  the  people's  own  shins.* 

»  J.  H.  Wcwnian.  *  E.  W.  Lewi«. 

'  Sir  Lewis  Morris,  Poems,  48.  *  Eu.ssell  LowolL 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  445 

(1)  Take  drunkenness.  This  sin  always  finds  the  man  out. 
He  may  take  never  such  pains  at  the  commencement  to  be  unnoticed 
and  unseen.  I  believe  all  drunkards  commence  with  very  quiet 
tippling.  Ah  yes,  but  it  is  a  sin  that  will  find  him  out.  It 
brings  its  own  punishment.  The  sin  looks  out  of  his  bloodshot 
eye,  and  grasps  his  hands  until  they  tremble  as  with  palsy. 

^  Of  all  the  evils  that  oppress,  and  outrage,  and  destroy 
mankind,  are  there  many,  are  there  any,  greater  than  intemper- 
ance ?  For  proof  turn  to  our  gaols,  asylums,  police  courts,  lodgmg- 
houses,  newspapers,  streets,  and  our  churches — yes,  and  our 
churches.  It  is  an  evil  very  great,  very  common,  very  real,  very 
ruinous.  It  is  an  individual,  a  social,  a  national  evil.  It  is 
an  evil  which  produces  an  amount  of  misery,  and  poverty,  and 
wretchedness,  which  no  figures  can  possibly  set  forth.  It  injures 
the  body,  it  blunts  the  finer  feelings  of  the  soul,  it  clouds  the 
intellect,  it  ruins  the  health,  it  unfits  for  daily  life.  It  brings 
poverty,  it  blights  the  home.  It  destroys  peace  of  mind  and  the 
prospects  of  heaven.  It  dishonours  our  national  name,  it  wastes 
our  national  wealth,  it  cripples  our  trade,  it  feeds  our  gaols  and 
asylums.  It  kills  directly  60,000  and  indirectly  120,000  every 
year.  It  transmits  its  evil  influence  to  succeeding  generations, 
for  the  children  of  drinkers  are  injiu-ed  in  health.  It  is  the  chief 
highway  into  "  darkest  England."  ^ 

(2)  Take  a  less  obvious  sin.  Take  Resentfulness.  Suppose  that 
a  man  is  natui'ally  resentful  and  unforgiving.  He  may,  in  spite 
of  this,  have  a  great  number  of  excellences,  very  high  views,  great 
self-devotion  to  God's  service,  great  faith,  great  sanctity.  I  can 
fancy  such  a  person  almost  arguing  himself  out  of  his  own  con- 
viction, that  he  is  fostering  the  secret  sin  in  question,  from  his 
consciousness  of  his  own  integrity,  and  his  devotional  spirit  in 
the  general  round  of  his  duties.  His  sin  may  have  ten  thousand 
palliations;  it  may  be  disguised  by  fair  names;  it  affects  the 
conscience  only  now  and  then,  for  a  moment,  and  that  is  all ;  the 
pang  is  soon  over.  The  pang  is  momentary,  but  the  ease  and 
satisfaction  and  harmony  of  mind,  arising  from  the  person's  exact 
performance  of  his  general  duties,  are  abiding  guests  within  him. 
He  forgets,  that  in  spite  of  this  harmony  between  all  within  and 
all  without  for  twenty-three  hours  of  the  day,  there  is  one  subject, 
now  and  then  recurring,  which  jars  with  his  mind, — there  is  just 

^  J.  H.  Atkinson. 


446  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

one  string  out  of  tune.  Some  particular  person  has  injured  him 
or  dishonoured  him,  and  a  few  minutes  of  each  day,  or  of  each 
week,  are  given  to  the  indulgence  of  harsh,  unforgiving  thoughts, 
which  at  first  he  suspected  were  what  they  really  are,  sinful,  but 
which  he  has  gradually  learned  to  palliate,  or  rather  account  for, 
on  other  principles,  to  refer  to  other  motives,  to  justify  on  religious 
or  other  grounds.  Solomon  says,  "  Dead  flies  cause  the  ointment 
of  the  apothecary  to  send  forth  a  stinking  savour;  so  doth  a 
little  folly  him  that  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom  and  honour." 

(3)  Take  that  sin  which  is  specially  referred  to  in  the  text. 
It  is  the  sin  of  omission,  the  sin  of  not  doing.  The  children  of 
Reuben,  of  Gad,  and  of  Manasseh,  are  warned  that  their  sin  will 
find  them  out  if  they  do  not  cross  the  Jordan  in  company  with 
their  kinsfolk,  if  they  simply  sit  still  in  their  own  fields  and 
vineyards  on  its  eastern  bank.  And  let  us  not  forget  what  the 
Lord  has  said  concerning  the  judgment  in  the  day  when  He  shall 
come  in  His  glory.  He  tells  us  that  in  that  day  He  will  separate 
men  as  a  shepherd  separateth  the  sheep  from  the  goats ;  that  He 
will  set  the  one  on  His  right  hand  and  the  other  on  His  left ;  and 
that  to  those  on  His  left  hand  He  will  say — "  Depart  from  me, 
ye  cursed,  into  the  eternal  fire  which  is  prepared  for  the  devil 
and  his  angels.  These  shall  go  away  into  eternal  punishment." 
But  who  are  "  these "  upon  whom  such  a  doom  is  pronounced  ? 
What  had  they  done?  They  had  done  nothing.  And  that  was 
their  sin,  and  for  that  they  are  punished.  Christ,  identifying 
Himself  with  a  suffering  and  needy  humanity,  says — "  I  was  an 
hungred,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat;  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave 
me  no  drink ;  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in ;  naked,  and 
ye  clothed  me  not;  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me  not. 
Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  unto  one  of  these  least,  ye  did  it  not 
unto  me." 

III. 

The  Entrance  of  the  Gospel. 

1,  We  are  under  a  Dispensation  of  grace,  and  are  blessed  with 
a  certain  suspension  of  this  awful  law  of  nataral  religion.  The 
blood  of  Christ,  as  St.  John  says,  is  of  such  wonderful  efficacy  as 
to  "  cleanse  us  from  all  sin  " ;  to  interpose  between  our  sin  and  its 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  447 

punishment,  and  to  wipe  out  the  former  before  the  latter  haa 
overtaken  us. 

^  The  past  is  not,  in  any  effective  sense,  irrevocable.  We  may 
yet  make  it,  in  large  measure,  what  we  will.  For  detached 
experiences  are  in  themselves  mere  unintelligible  fragments.  It 
is  when  they  are  taken  as  parts  of  a  whole  that  they  have  their 
meaning.  And  what  is  the  whole  of  which  our  past  is  a  part  ? 
Is  that  irrevocably  fixed  beyond  our  control  ?  Nay,  our  past  as 
well  as  our  future  shall  be  what  we  shall  make  it.  It  is  a 
fragment  that  awaits  interpretation,  nay,  awaits  its  full  being, 
its  true  creation,  from  the  whole.^ 

2.  We  are  very  apt  to  compare  the  laws  of  the  material  world 
and  the  laws  of  the  spiritual  world ;  and,  when  we  detach  some 
analogies,  we  are  ready  to  identify  the  two.  HappUy,  the  laws 
of  the  one  are  not  the  laws  of  the  other.  If  the  laws  of  the 
spiritual  world  were  the  same  as  those  of  the  natural  world,  we 
should  all  inevitably  perish.  Our  sin  would  be  beyond  remedy, 
and  infalUbly  find  us  out  to  its  bitterest  conclusions.  If  you  touch 
fire,  you  will  invariably  be  burned.  If  you  cast  yourself  from  a 
precipice,  you  will  certainly  be  broken  to  pieces.  The  laws  of  the 
natural  world  operate  inexorably.  And,  no  doubt,  just  because  we 
have  a  mental  constitution,  there  are  there  also  laws  which  operate 
regularly.  But  because  one  of  the  laws  of  our  mind  is  that  we 
are  free  and  can  will,  and  because  we  are  in  the  hands  of  a  great 
God  who  is  also  free  and  merciful,  and  can  introduce  a  higher  law 
than  even  the  law  of  our  constitution,  we  have  hope.  It  is  one 
of  the  laws  of  our  nature,  that  that  in  us  which  we  may  call  our 
self  can  be  detached,  as  it  were,  from  our  nature,  and  set  up 
against  it,  so  as  to  resist  it  in  its  evil,  and  command  it.  And  if 
this,  which  we  call  the  self  in  us,  be  enfeebled  through  evil,  and 
unable  of  itself  to  rise  up  against  sin,  the  influence  of  God 
operating  through  the  life  and  history  of  Christ  can  awaken  it, 
and  animate  it  with  a  Divine  power — Christ  dwelling  in  our 
hearts. 

3.  If  it  is  a  fact  that  sin  has  its  punishment — if  it  be  true 
that,  go  wherever  I  may,  my  sin  follows  me  and  will  find  me 
out — "  How  am  I  to  be  saved  ? "  I  wiU  tell  you.  You  have, 
first  of  all,  to  find  your  sin  out  instead  of  waiting  for  sin  to  find 

»  P.  H.  Wicksteed. 


448  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

you.  You  say,  "  How  can  I  do  that  ? "  Discover  it  by  the  law. 
If  you  have  any  doubt  whether  you  are  a  sinner  or  not,  run 
through  the  Ten  Commandments,  and  then  look  at  them  in  a 
spiritual  light,  remembering  that  be  who  sins  in  desire  virtually 
sins  in  action.  Then  turn  to  the  third  chapter  of  Komans,  and 
see  whether  it  condemns  you  or  not.  Do  not  spare  yourself. 
Drag  your  sins  out  of  their  hiding-places.  Call  them  by  their 
right  names.  Say  to  the  iniquity  of  your  heart,  "  Come,  sin,  if  I 
do  not  find  you  out  you  will  find  me  out.  If  I  do  not  drag  you 
from  your  lurking-place  you  will  drag  me  into  perdition."  Out 
with  your  sin  and  judge  yourself  as  in  the  sight  of  God.  And 
then,  when  you  have  settled  the  question  that  you  are  a  sinner, 
and  a  sinner  who  deserves  punishment,  go  and  take  all  the  hideous 
load  to  Christ.  This  is  the  only  way  a  man  can  be  saved.  Get 
your  sins  found  out ;  and  when  you  have  seen  them,  though  they 
appear  like  a  very  mountain  of  guilt,  say,  in  the  language  of  the 
hymn — 

I  lay  my  sins  on  Jesus, 

The  spotless  Lamb  of  God. 

^  The  punishment  of  sin  is  inevitable.  As  sins  against 
natural  laws  are  invariably  punished,  as  fire  burns,  no  matter 
whose  be  the  hand  that  is  in  it,  so  sin  uniformly  and  in  every  case 
brings  spiritual  degradation.  The  laws  of  our  spiritual  nature  are 
"self-acting,"  as  are  the  other  laws  with  which  we  have  to  do. 
No  sin  is  committed  without  leaving  its  mark.  But  you  say, 
"  There  is  repentance."  You  know  little  of  the  power  of  sin  if 
you  thus  glibly  promise  yourself  repentance.  Listen  to  the 
confession  of  one  who  has  a  foremost  place  in  English  literature, 
and  who  was  not  judged  by  his  contemporaries  to  have  sinned  to 
any  dangerous  extent.  "  Of  a  change  in  my  condition  there  is  no 
hope.  The  waters  have  gone  over  me.  But  out  of  the  black 
depths  I  would  cry  out  to  all  those  who  have  but  set  a  foot  in 
the  perilous  flood.  Could  the  youth,  to  whom  the  flavour  of  his 
first  sinful  enjoyment  is  delicious  as  the  opening  scenes  of  life, 
or  the  entering  upon  some  newly  discovered  paradise,  look  into 
my  desolation,  and  be  made  to  understand  what  a  dreary  thing 
it  is  when  a  man  shall  feel  himself  going  down  a  precipice  with 
open  eyes  and  a  passive  will — to  see  this  destruction  and  have  no 
power  to  stop  it,  and  yet  to  feel  it  all  the  way  emanating  from 
himself ;  to  perceive  all  goodness  emptied  out  of  him  and  yet  not 
to  be  able  to  forget  a  time  when  it  was  otherwise ;  to  bear  about 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  449 

the  piteous  spectacle  of  his  own  self -ruins ;  could  he  feel  the  body 
of  the  death  out  of  which  I  cry  hourly  with  feebler  and  feebler 
outcry  to  be  delivered — it  were  enough  to  make  him  dash  aside 
the  most  pressing  or  subtle  temptation."  What  can  such  a  man 
make  of  repentance  ?  Is  he  not  more  likely  to  class  himself  with 
those  who  seek  it  when  the  door  is  shut ;  who  know  that  others 
have  abandoned  sin  and  have  entered  into  life,  but  that  they  are 
«hut  out  in  outer  darkness  ?  Repentance  is  not  at  our  beck ;  and 
to  sin  for  a  little  longer  in  the  expectation  that  you  can  repent  at 
pleasure  is  a  complete  misunderstanding  of  the  surest  laws  of 
your  nature.  Repentance  is  never  easy,  and  every  day  becomea 
more  difficult.^ 

Thy  mercy  greater  is  than  any  sin, 

Thy  greatness  none  can  ever  comprehend: 

Wherefore,  O  Lord,  let  me  Thy  mercy  win, 
Whose  glorious  name  no  time  can  ever  end: 

Wherefore  I  say  all  praise  belongs  to  Thee, 

Whom  I  beseech  be  merciful  to  me. 

4  What,  then,  has  Christ  accomplished  for  us  ?  Does  He 
fltand  between  the  sinner  and  the  natural  consequences  of  his 
sin  ?  To  answer  this  question  we  have  but  to  look  to  the  first 
sinner  saved  after  His  death,  the  thief  who  hung  beside  Him 
on  the  cross.  What  this  sinner  received  from  Christ  was  not 
immunity  from  the  consequences  of  sin,  but  assurance  of  God's 
favour  and  of  Christ's  friendship.  Of  the  natural  results  of  his 
life  of  crime  there  was  no  reversal,  no  mitigation.  Christ's  power 
was  not  put  forth  to  imfasten  the  criminal  from  the  cross  he  had 
■earned.  There  are  cases  in  which  this  insvitable  law  is  obscured. 
For  in  life  much  is  sown  besides  our  sin  of  which  we  reap  the 
fruit,  and  sometimes  by  the  foresight  of  friends  or  by  the 
providence  of  God  we  are  saved  from  the  results  of  our  own 
deeds.  What  others  do  for  our  good  has  its  result.  But  the  one 
thing  we  can  calculate  on  is  that  we  must  reap  as  we  have  sown, 
and  that  Christ's  work  does  not  interfere  with  this  law. 

The  work  of  Christ  does  mainly  these  two  things  for  us. 
It  secures  us  the  pardon  of  God,  and  it  creates  a  new  spirit 
within  us. 

(1)  It  secures  the  pardon  of  God. — The  pardon  of  God,  though 

^  Marcns  Dods. 
GEN.-NUM. — 29 


450  SIN  THE  DETECTIVE 

it  does  not  check  consequences  or  reverse  natural  law,  gives  us 
very  different  thoughts  about  the  consequences  of  our  sins,  and 
sets  us  in  a  new  relation  to  them.  The  pardon  of  God  carries 
with  it  restoration  to  His  favour,  but  not  exemption  from 
punishment.  A  lad  takes  out  his  father's  favourite  horse  and 
in  trying  to  leap  a  fence  breaks  the  horse's  neck  and  his  own 
collar-bone.  Pained  as  he  is  while  lying  in  the  field  he  fears 
his  father's  anger  more  than  the  setting  of  the  bone.  And  when 
he  is  taken  home  he  is  delighted  to  be  assured  that  his  father 
is  filled  with  pity  and  readily  accepts  his  contrite  apologies. 
And  the  restored  sense  of  his  father's  love,  which  his  fault  had 
clouded,  knits  the  bond  between  father  and  son  more  firmly  than 
ever.  But  this  happy  sense  of  pardon  does  not  lessen  the  actual 
pain  of  his  broken  bone,  though  it  may  help  him  to  bear  it.  So 
is  it  when  we  return  from  sin  to  God.  His  pardon  does  not 
shield  us  from  the  consequences  of  our  sin,  but  it  makes  our  whole 
being  different. 

^  In  the  days  of  Caesar  Augustus  there  lived  a  great  pirate, 
for  whose  head  a  large  reward  was  offered.  He  said  to  himself, 
"  I  shall  surely  be  caught,  now  that  a  hue  and  cry  has  been  raised 
against  me ;  Caesar's  warships  are  scouring  the  seas,  and  will  hunt 
me  down."  He  disguised  himself,  and  got  into  Caesar's  presence, 
and  claimed  the  reward  for  the  pirate's  head.  "  But  where  is  it  ? " 
Ctesar  asked.  "  Here  it  is,"  he  said, "  I  am  the  pirate."  He  threw 
himself  at  Caesar's  feet,  implored  mercy,  and  offered  to  serve  in 
the  imperial  navy.  And  he  was  pardoned.  Be  like  him,  except 
in  one  point.  Do  not  disguise  yourself,  but  tear  off  every  disguise^ 
and,  confessing  your  sin,  make  the  name  of  Jesus  your  only  plea. 
Find  out  your  sin,  before  it  finds  you  out.  Like  the  Prodigal, 
inform  against  yourself  before  God.^ 

(2)  It  creates  a  new  spirit  within  us. — We  find  in  ourselves 
new  forces  arrayed  against  sin,  and  these  forces  at  once  set  in 
motion  a  new  series  of  consequences  and  results  which  counter- 
work the  results  of  sin.  At  every  point  the  penitent  sees  traces 
of  his  sin,  but  every  day  the  new  life  which  Christ  gives  him  is 
sowing  for  him  seeds  which  will  spring  up  in  happiness,  in  service, 
in  all  that  blesses  human  life.  The  new  life  which  Christ  gives 
does  not  at  once  abolish  sinful  tendencies,  but  it  gives  us  power 
to  fight  against  them ;  it  does  not  on  the  spot  emancipate  us  from 

» J.  WeUa. 


NUMBERS  XXXII.  23  451 

all  the  bonds  we  have  formed  by  sin,  but  it  communicates  a  hope 
and  a  strength  which,  we  feel,  will  one  day  effectually  deliver  us. 

^  O  my  Saviour  Christ,  Christ  my  Saviour !  who  will  grant 
that  I  may  die  rather  than  again  offend  Thee !  Christ  my 
Saviour,  0  my  Saviour !  Lord,  let  a  new  manner  of  life  prove 
that  a  new  spirit  hath  descended  on  me ;  for  true  penitence  is  new 
life,  and  true  praise  unremitted  penitence,  and  the  observation  of 
a  perpetual  Sabbath  from  sin,  its  occasions,  fuel,  and  danger, 
For  as  penitence  destroys  old  sins,  so  do  new  sins  destroy 
penitence.^ 

What  shall  I  do  ?     Make  vows  and  break  them  still  ? 

'Twill  be  but  labour  lost. 
My  good  cannot  prevail  against  mine  ill; 

The  business  will  be  crossed. 

Oh,  say  not  so !  thou  canst  not  tell  what  strength 
Thy  God  may  give  thee  at  the  length; 
Eenew  thy  vows,  and  if  thou  keep  the  last, 
Thy  God  will  pardon  all  that's  past. 

Then  once  again 
I  vow  to  mend  my  ways; 

Lord,  say  Amen, 
And  Thine  be  all  the  praise  I 

^  Bishop  Andrewes. 


I 


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