CHAPTER XV.

THE words with which our chapter opens are peculiarly striking, when

taken in connection with the contents of chapter xiv. There, all seemed

dark and hopeless. Moses had to say to the people, “_Go not up_, for the

Lord is not among you; that ye be not smitten before your enemies.” And

again, the Lord had said to them, “As truly as I live, as ye have spoken

in Mine ears, so will I do to you. Your carcasses shall fall in this

wilderness.... Doubtless _ye shall not come into the land_ concerning

which I sware to make you dwell therein.... As for you, your carcasses,

they shall fall in this wilderness.”

Thus much as to chapter xiv. But no sooner do we open the section now

before us, than, just as though nothing had happened, and though all

were as calm, as bright, and as certain as God could make it, we read

such words as these: “The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the

children of Israel, and say unto them, _When ye be come into the land of

your habitations, which I give unto you_,’” etc. This is one of the most

remarkable passages in the entire of this most wonderful book. Indeed

there is not, in the whole compass of the book, a passage more thoroughly

characteristic, not only of Numbers, but of the entire volume of God.

When we read the solemn sentence, “Ye shall not come into the land,” what

is the plain lesson which it reads out to us? The lesson, which we are so

slow to learn, of man’s utter worthlessness.—“All flesh is grass.”

And, on the other hand, when we read such words as these: “When ye be

come into the land of your habitations, which I give unto you,” what is

the precious lesson which they read out to us? This, assuredly, that

salvation is of the Lord. In the one, we learn man’s failure; in the

other, God’s faithfulness. If we look at man’s side of the question, the

sentence is, “Doubtless _ye shall not_ come into the land;” but if we

look at God’s side of the question, we can reverse the matter, and say,

“Doubtless _ye shall_.”

Thus it stands in the scene now before us, and thus it stands in the

whole volume of inspiration—from beginning to end. Man fails, but God is

faithful: man forfeits every thing, but God makes good all. “The things

which are impossible with man are possible with God.” Need we travel

through the inspired canon in order to illustrate and prove this? Need

we refer the reader to the history of Adam in paradise? or the history

of Noah after the flood? or the history of Israel in the wilderness,

Israel in the land, Israel under the law, Israel under the Levitical

ceremonial? Shall we dwell upon the record of man’s failure in the

prophetic, priestly, and kingly office? Shall we point out the failure of

the professing church as a responsible vessel on the earth? Has not man

failed always and in every thing? Alas! it is so.

This is one side of the picture—the dark and humbling side. But, blessed

be God, there is the bright and encouraging side also. If there is the

“Doubtless ye shall not,” there is also the “Doubtless ye shall.” And

why? Because Christ has entered the scene, and in Him all is infallibly

secured for the glory of God and the eternal blessing of man. It is

God’s eternal purpose to “head up all things in Christ.” There is not a

single thing in which the first man has failed that the second Man will

not make good. All is set up on a new footing in Christ. He is the Head

of the new creation; Heir of all the promises made to Abraham, Isaac,

and Jacob touching the land; Heir of all the promises made to David

concerning the throne. The government shall be upon His shoulders. He

shall bear the glory. He is the Prophet, Priest, and King. In a word,

Christ makes good all that Adam lost, and brings in much more beside than

Adam ever had. Hence, when we look at the first Adam and his doings,

whenever and however viewed, the sentence is, “Doubtless _ye shall not_.”

Ye shall not remain in paradise—ye shall not retain the government—ye

shall not inherit the promises—ye shall not enter the land—ye shall not

occupy the throne—ye shall not enter the kingdom.

But, on the other hand, when we look at the last Adam and His doings,

wherever and however viewed, the entire category must be gloriously

reversed; the “not” must be forever elided from the sentence, for in

Christ Jesus “all the promises of God are yea and Amen, to the glory of

God by us.” There is no “nay” in the matter when Christ is concerned.

All is “yea”—all is divinely settled and established; and because it

is so, God has set His seal to it, even the seal of His Spirit, which

all believers now possess. “For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was

preached among you by us, even by me and Silvanus and Timotheus, was

not yea and nay, but in Him was yea. For all the promises of God in Him

are yea, and in Him Amen, unto the glory of God by us. Now He which

stablisheth us with you in Christ, and hath anointed us, is God; who hath

also sealed us, and given the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts.” (2

Cor. i. 19-22.)

Thus, then, the opening lines of Numbers xv. must be read in the light of

the whole volume of God. It falls in with the entire history of the ways

of God with man, in this world. Israel had forfeited all title to the

land. They deserved nothing better than that their carcasses should fall

in the wilderness. And yet such is the large and precious grace of God,

that He could speak to them of their coming into the land, and instruct

them as to their ways and works therein.

Nothing can be more blessed or more establishing than all this. God

rises above all human failure and sin. It is utterly impossible that

a single promise of God can fail of its accomplishment. Could it be

that the conduct of Abraham’s seed in the wilderness should frustrate

God’s eternal purpose, or hinder the fulfillment of the absolute and

unconditional promise made to the fathers? Impossible. And therefore,

if the generation which came out of Egypt refused to go into Canaan,

Jehovah would, of the very stones, raise up a seed to whom His promise

should be made good. This will help to explain the opening sentence of

our chapter, which comes in with such remarkable force and beauty after

the humiliating scenes of chapter xiv. In this latter, Israel’s sun seems

to go down amid dark and angry clouds; but in the former, it rises with

serene brightness, revealing and establishing that great truth that “the

gifts and calling of God are without repentance.” God never repents of

His call or His gift; and hence, though an unbelieving generation should

murmur and rebel ten thousand times over, He will make good all that He

has promised.

Here is the divine resting-place of faith at all times—the sure and safe

haven for the soul amid the wreck of all human schemes and undertakings.

Every thing goes to pieces in man’s hands, but God in Christ remains.

Let man be set up in business again and again, under the most favorable

circumstances, and he is sure to become a bankrupt; but God has set up

Christ in resurrection, and all who believe in Him are placed on a new

footing altogether—they are taken into partnership with the risen and

glorified Head, and there they stand forever. That wondrous partnership

can never be dissolved. All is secured on a basis that no power of earth

or hell can ever touch.

Reader, say, dost thou understand the application of all this to thyself?

Hast thou discovered, in the light of God’s presence, that thou art, in

very deed, a bankrupt? that thou hast made shipwreck of every thing?

that thou hast not a single plea to urge? Hast thou been led to make

a personal application of those two sentences upon which we have been

dwelling, namely, “Doubtless thou shalt not,” and “Doubtless thou

shalt”? Hast thou learnt the force of these words, “Thou hast destroyed

thyself; but in Me is thy help”? In one word, hast thou come to Jesus as

a lost, guilty, self-destroyed sinner, and found redemption, pardon, and

peace in Him?

Do pause, dear friend, and seriously consider these things. We can never

lose sight of the weighty fact that we have something more to do than to

write “Notes on the book of Numbers:” we have to consider the soul of the

reader. We have a most solemn responsibility to discharge to him or to

her; and therefore it is that, from time to time, we feel constrained to

turn, for a moment, from the page on which we are meditating, in order

to make an appeal to the heart and conscience of the reader, and entreat

him, most earnestly, that if he be as yet unconverted, undecided, he

would lay aside this volume, and apply his heart seriously to the great

question of his present condition and eternal destiny. In comparison with

this, all other questions dwindle into utter insignificance. What are all

the schemes and undertakings which begin, continue, and end in time, when

compared with eternity and the salvation of your never-dying soul? They

are as the small dust of the balance. “What shall it profit a man if he

shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” If you had the wealth

of a Rothschild—the money-king, if you stood on the loftiest pinnacle

of literary fame or political ambition, if your name were adorned with

all the honors which the universities of this world could bestow, if

your brow were wreathed with the laurels and your breast covered with the

medals of a hundred victories, what would it profit you? You must leave

all—you must pass through the narrow arch of time into the boundless

ocean of eternity. Men of princely wealth, men of literary fame, men who

have ruled by their intellectual power the House of Lords and Commons,

men who have held thousands hanging entranced upon their lips, men who

have reached the very highest point of naval, military, and forensic

distinction, have passed away into eternity; and the awful question as to

such is, “Where is the soul?”

Beloved reader, we beseech thee, by the most weighty arguments that

can possibly be urged upon the soul of man, not to turn away from this

subject until thou hast come to a right conclusion. By God’s great love,

by the cross and passion of Christ, by the powerful testimony of God the

Holy Ghost, by the awful solemnity of a never-ending eternity, by the

unspeakable value of thy immortal soul, by all the joys of heaven, by

all the horrors of hell—by these seven weighty arguments, we urge thee,

this moment, to come to Jesus. Delay not! argue not! reason not! but come

now, just as you are—with all your sins, with all your misery, with your

misspent life, with your dreadful record of mercies slighted, advantages

abused, opportunities neglected—come to Jesus, who stands, with open arms

and loving heart, ready to receive you, and points to those wounds which

attest the reality of His atoning death upon the cross, and tells you to

put your trust in Him, and assures you you will never be confounded. May

God’s Spirit carry home this appeal to thy heart, this moment, and give

thee no rest until thou art savingly converted to Christ, reconciled to

God, and sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise.

* * * * *

We shall now return, for a moment, to our chapter.

Nothing can be more lovely than the picture here presented. We have

vows, and free-will offerings, sacrifices of righteousness, and the wine

of the kingdom, all based upon the sovereign grace which shines in the

very first verse. It is a fair sample, a beauteous foreshadowing of the

future condition of Israel. It reminds us of the marvelous visions which

close the book of the prophet Ezekiel. The unbelief, the murmuring, the

rebellion, are all over and all forgotten. God retires into His own

eternal counsels, and from thence looks forward to the time when His

people shall offer an offering in righteousness and pay their vows to

Him, and the joy of His kingdom shall fill their hearts forever. (Ver.

3-13.)

But there is a very striking feature in this chapter, and that is, the

place which “the stranger” gets. It is most thoroughly characteristic.

“And if a stranger sojourn with you, or whosoever be among you in your

generations, and will offer an offering made by fire, of a sweet savor

unto the Lord; as ye do, so he shall do. One ordinance shall be both for

you of the congregation, and also for the stranger that sojourneth with

you, _an ordinance forever_ in your generations: _as ye are, so shall the

stranger be before the Lord_. One law and one manner shall be for you,

and for the stranger that sojourneth with you.”

What a place for the stranger! What a lesson for Israel! What a standing

testimony on the page of their favorite and boasted Moses! The stranger

is placed on the very same platform with Israel! “_As_ ye are, _so_ shall

the stranger be;” and this, too, “before the Lord.” In Exodus xii. 48,

we read, “And when a stranger shall sojourn with thee, and will keep

the passover to the Lord, let all his males be circumcised, and then

let him come near and keep it.” But in Numbers xv. there is no allusion

to circumcision at all. And why? Is it that such a point could ever be

waived? No; but we believe the omission here is full of meaning. Israel

had forfeited every thing. The rebellious generation was to be set aside

and cut off; but God’s eternal purpose of grace must stand, and all His

promises be fulfilled. All Israel shall be saved; they shall possess the

land; they shall offer pure offerings, pay their vows, and taste the joy

of the kingdom. On what ground? On the ground of sovereign mercy. Well,

it is on the self-same ground that “the stranger” shall be brought in;

and not only brought in, but “_as_ ye are, _so_ shall the stranger be

before the Lord.”

Will the Jew quarrel with this? Let him go and study Numbers xiii. and

xiv. And when he has drunk into his inmost soul the wholesome lesson,

then let him meditate on chapter xv, and we feel assured he will not seek

to push “the stranger” off the platform, for he will be ready to confess

himself a debtor to mercy alone, and to acknowledge that the same mercy

which has reached him can reach the stranger, and he will rejoice to go

in company with that stranger to drink of the wells of salvation thrown

open by the sovereign grace of the God of Jacob.

Are we not forcibly reminded, by the teaching of this part of our book,

of that profound section of dispensational truth presented in Romans

ix.-xi, particularly of its magnificent close? “The gifts and calling

of God are without repentance. For as ye [strangers] in times past have

not believed God, yet have now obtained mercy through their unbelief:

even so have these also now not believed in your mercy [_i. e._, mercy

shown to the Gentiles—_see Greek_], that they also may obtain mercy [_i.

e._, come in on the ground of mercy like the stranger]. For God hath

concluded them all in unbelief, that He might have mercy upon all [Jews

and Gentiles—Israel and the stranger]. O the depth of the riches both of

the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, and

his ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or

who hath been His counselor? Or who hath first given to Him, and it shall

be recompensed unto him again? For of Him, and through Him, and to Him,

are all things; to whom be glory forever. Amen.” (Rom. xi. 29-36.)

From verse 22-31 of our chapter, we have instructions as to sins of

ignorance and presumptuous sins—a very grave and important distinction.

For the former, ample provision is made, in the goodness and mercy

of God. The _death_ of Christ is presented, in this portion of the

chapter, in its two grand aspects, namely, the burnt-offering and the

sin-offering; that is, its aspect to Godward and its aspect to usward;

and we have also all the preciousness, fragrance, and joy of His

perfect _life_ and service as a man in this world, as typified by the

meat-offering and drink-offering. In the burnt-offering, we see atonement

wrought according to the measure of Christ’s devotedness to God, and

of God’s delight in Him: in the sin-offering, we see atonement wrought

according to the measure of the sinner’s necessities and the hatefulness

of sin in God’s sight. The two offerings, taken together, present the

atoning death of Christ in all its fullness. Then, in the meat-offering,

we have Christ’s perfect life and the reality of His human nature, as

manifested in all the details of His path and service in this world;

while the drink-offering, typifies His complete surrender of Himself to

God.

Into the rich and marvelous instruction conveyed in the different classes

of sacrifices presented in this passage, we do not attempt to enter now.

The reader who desires to study the subject more fully is referred to a

little volume entitled “Notes on the book of Leviticus.” (Pages 1-140.)

We merely state here, in the very briefest manner, what we judge to be

the main import of each offering; to go into details would only be to

repeat what we have already written.

We would merely add that the claims of God demand that sins of ignorance

should be taken cognizance of. We might feel disposed to say, or at least

to think, that such sins ought to be passed over; but God does not think

so. His holiness must not be reduced to the standard of our intelligence.

_Grace_ has made provision for sins of ignorance, but _holiness_ demands

that such sins should be judged and confessed. Every true heart will

bless God for this. For what would become of us if the provisions of

divine grace were not adequate to meet the claims of divine holiness? and

adequate they most surely could not be if they traveled not beyond the

range of our intelligence.

And yet, while all this will, generally speaking, be fully admitted, it

is often very sorrowful to hear professing Christians making excuses

for ignorance, and justifying unfaithfulness and error on the ground of

ignorance. But very often, in such cases, the question may very cogently

be urged, why are we ignorant, in reference to any point of conduct,

or the claims of Christ upon us? Suppose a question comes before us

demanding a positive judgment, and calling for a certain line of action;

we plead ignorance. Is this right? will it avail? will it dispose of

our responsibility? will God allow us to shirk the question after such

a fashion? Nay, reader; we may rest assured it will not do. Why are

we ignorant? Have we put forth all our energies, have we adopted every

available means, have we made every possible effort, to get at the root

of the matter and reach a just conclusion? Let us bear in mind that

the claims of truth and holiness demand all this of us; nor should we

be satisfied with any thing less. We cannot but admit that were it a

question involving, in any measure, _our own_ interests—_our_ name, _our_

reputation, _our_ property, we should leave no stone unturned in order to

make ourselves fully acquainted with all the facts of the case. We should

not long plead ignorance in such matters. If information were to be had,

we should have it. We should do our very utmost to know all the ins and

outs, the _pros_ and _cons_, of the question, so that we might form a

sound judgment in the matter.

Is this not so, reader? Well, then, why should we plead ignorance when

the claims of Christ are in question? Does it not prove that while we are

quick, earnest, energetic, all alive, when _self_ is concerned, we are

indifferent, sluggish, slow-paced, when Christ is concerned? Alas! alas!

this is the plain, humbling truth. May we be humbled under a sense of

it. May the Spirit of God make us more thoroughly in earnest in things

which concern our Lord Jesus Christ. May self and its interests sink,

and may Christ and His interests rise in our estimation, every day; and

may we at least cordially own our holy responsibility to go diligently

into every question in the which the glory of our Lord and Saviour

Jesus Christ may, even in the most remote degree, be involved, however

we may fail practically in our research. Let us not dare to say or think

or act as though we thought that aught that concerns Him is a matter of

indifference to us. God, in His mercy, forbid! Let us esteem all that

merely concerns ourselves to be comparatively non-essential, but the

claims of Christ to be of paramount authority.

We have said thus much on the subject of ignorance, in the sense of our

responsibility to the truth of God and to the soul of the reader. We

feel its immense practical importance. We believe we very often plead

_ignorance_, when _indifference_ would be the truer term to use. This is

very sad. Surely, if our God, in His infinite goodness, has made ample

provision even for sins of ignorance, that is no reason why we should

coolly shelter ourselves behind the plea of ignorance, when there is the

most abundant information within our reach had we only the energy to make

use of it.

We might not, perhaps, have dwelt at such length upon this point were it

not for the conviction, which becomes each day more strengthened in the

soul, that we have reached a serious moment in our history as Christians.

We are not given to croaking: we have no sympathy whatever with it. We

believe it is our privilege to be filled with the most joyful confidence,

and to have our hearts and minds ever garrisoned by the peace of God that

passeth all understanding. “God hath not given us the spirit of fear;

but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Tim. i. 7.)

But it is impossible to close our eyes to the startling fact that the

claims of Christ, the value of truth, the authority of holy Scripture,

are being more and more set aside each day, each week, each year. We

believe we are approaching a moment in the which there will be toleration

for any thing and every thing save the truth of God. It behooves us,

therefore, to look well to it that God’s Word has its own proper place in

the heart, and that the conscience is governed in all things by its holy

authority. A tender conscience is a most precious treasure to carry about

with us from day to day—a conscience that ever yields a true response to

the action of the Word of God—that bows down without a question to its

plain statements. When the conscience is in this fine condition, there is

always a regulating power wherewith to act upon one’s practical course

and character. Conscience may be compared to the regulator of a watch.

It may happen that the hands of the watch get astray; but so long as

the regulator has power over the spring, there is always the means of

correcting the hands. If that power be gone, the entire watch must be

taken to pieces. So with the conscience. So long as it continues true to

the touch of Scripture, as applied by the Holy Ghost, there is always a

safe and sure regulating power; but if it becomes sluggish, hardened,

or perverted—if it refuses to yield a true response to “Thus saith the

Lord,” there is little, if any, hope. It then becomes a case similar

to that referred to in our chapter,—“But the soul that doeth aught

_presumptuously_, whether he be born in the land, or a stranger, _the

same reproacheth the Lord_; and that soul shall be cut off from among his

people. _Because he hath despised the word of the Lord_, and hath broken

His commandment, that soul shall utterly be cut off; his iniquity shall

be upon him.” (Ver. 30, 31.)

This is no sin of ignorance, but a presumptuous, willful sin, for which

nothing remained but the unmitigated judgment of God. “Rebellion is as

the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry.”

(1 Sam. xv. 23.) These are weighty words for a moment like the present,

when man’s will is developing itself with such extraordinary force.

It is deemed manly to assert our will, but Scripture teaches the

direct opposite. The two grand elements of human perfection—of perfect

manhood—are these, namely, _dependence_ and _obedience_. In proportion

as any one departs from these, he departs from the true spirit and

attitude of a man. Hence, when we turn our eyes to Him who was _the_

perfect Man—the Man Christ Jesus, we see these two grand features

perfectly adjusted and perfectly developed from first to last. That

blessed One was never, for a single moment, out of the attitude of

perfect dependence and absolute obedience. To prove and illustrate this

fact would take us through the entire gospel narrative. But take the

scene of the temptation, and there you will find a sample of the whole

of that blessed life. His one unvarying reply to the tempter was, “_It

is written_.” No reasonings, no arguments, no questions. He lived by the

Word of God. He conquered Satan by holding fast the _only_ true position

of a man—dependence and obedience. He _could_ depend upon God, and He

_would_ obey Him. What could Satan do in such a case? Absolutely nothing.

Well, then, this is our example. We, as having the life of Christ, are

called to live in habitual dependence and obedience. This is walking

in the Spirit: this is the safe and happy path of the Christian.

Independence and disobedience go together: they are utterly unchristian

and unmanly. We find these two things in the first man, as we find the

two opposites in the second. Adam in the garden sought to be independent.

He was not content with being a man, and abiding in the only true place

and spirit of a man, and he became disobedient. Here lies the secret of

fallen humanity—these are the two elements which make up fallen manhood.

Trace it where you will—before the flood, after the flood, without law,

under the law, heathen, pagan, Jew, Turk, or nominal Christian,—analyze

it as closely as you please, and you will see that it resolves itself

into these two component parts—independence and disobedience. And when

you reach the close of man’s history in this world—when you view him in

that last sad sphere in which he is to figure, how do you see him?—in

what character does he appear? As “the willful king,” and the “lawless

man.”

May we have grace to ponder these things aright. Let us cultivate a

lowly and an obedient spirit. God has said, “To this man will I look,

even to him who is of a contrite spirit and trembleth at My word.” May

these words sink down into our ears and into our hearts; and let the

constant breathing of our souls be, “Keep back Thy servant, O Lord, from

presumptuous sins, and let them not have dominion over him.”[13]

It only remains for us, ere closing this section, to notice the case of

the Sabbath-breaker and the institution of “the ribband of blue.”

“And while the children of Israel were in the wilderness, they found

a man that gathered sticks upon the Sabbath day. And they that found

him gathering sticks brought him to Moses and Aaron, and to all the

congregation. And they put him in ward, because it was not declared what

should be done to him. And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘The man shall be

surely put to death: all the congregation shall stone him with stones

without the camp.’ And all the congregation brought him without the camp,

and stoned him with stones, and he died; as the Lord commanded Moses.”

(Ver. 32-36.)

This surely was a presumptuous sin—it was flying in the face of a most

plain and positive commandment of God. It is this that specially marks a

presumptuous sin, and leaves it utterly inexcusable. Ignorance cannot be

pleaded in the face of a divine command.

But why, it may be asked, had they to put the man in ward? Because,

although the commandment was explicit, yet the breach of it had not

been anticipated, nor had any penalty been enacted. To speak after the

manner of men, Jehovah had not contemplated such folly on man’s part as

the interruption of His rest, and therefore He had not formally provided

for such an occurrence. We need not say that God knows the end from the

beginning; but in the matter now before us, He purposely left the case

unnoticed until occasion required. But, alas! occasion did require,

for man is capable of any thing. He has no heart for God’s rest. To

kindle a fire on the Sabbath day was not only a positive breach of the

law, but it evidenced the most complete alienation from the mind of the

Law-giver, inasmuch as it introduced into the day of rest that which is

the apt symbol of _judgment_. Fire is emblematical of judgment, and as

such it was wholly out of keeping with the repose of the Sabbath; nothing

therefore remained but to visit the Sabbath-breaker with judgment, for

“whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”

“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of

Israel, and bid them that they make them fringes in the borders of their

garments, throughout their generations, and that they put upon the fringe

of the borders a ribband of blue. And it shall be unto you for a fringe,

that ye may look upon it, and remember all the commandments of the Lord,

and do them; and that ye seek not after your own heart, and your own

eyes, ... that ye may remember, and do all My commandments, and be holy

unto your God. I am the Lord your God, which brought you out of the land

of Egypt, to be your God: I am the Lord your God.’” (Ver. 37-41.)

The God of Israel would keep His people in continual remembrance of His

holy commandments. Hence the beautiful institution of “the ribband of

_blue_,” which was designed to be a _heavenly_ memorial attached to the

very borders of their garments, so that the word of God might ever be

held fast in the remembrance of the thoughts of their hearts. Whenever

an Israelite cast his eyes upon the blue ribband, he was to think of

Jehovah, and yield a hearty obedience to all His statutes.

Such was the great practical intention of “the ribband of blue.” But when

we turn to Matthew xxiii. 5, we learn the sad use which man had made

of the divine institution.—“But all their works they do for to be seen

of men: they make broad their phylacteries, and _enlarge the borders

of their garments_.” Thus the very thing which had been instituted

for the purpose of leading them to remember Jehovah, and to yield a

lowly obedience to His precious word, was turned into an occasion of

self-exaltation and religious pride. Instead of thinking of God and His

word, they thought of themselves, and of the place which they held in the

estimation of their fellows. “_All_ their works they do to be _seen of

men_.” Not a thought of God. The spirit of the original institution was

completely lost, while the outward form was kept up for selfish ends. Can

we not see something like this around us and among us? Let us think of

it—think deeply and seriously. Let us see to it that we do not turn the

heavenly memorial into an earthly badge, and that which ought to lead to

lowly obedience into an occasion of self-exaltation.

Notes on the book of Numbers · 第 11 / 22 章