Chapter V.

Section I.

Progress of Time--Patriarchal mode of Living--Abraham's Solicitude

respecting the Settlement of his Son--sends his Servant to procure him a

Wife--his Arrival in the Vicinity of Nahor--his Meeting with

Rebekah--her Behaviour, and their Conversation--the Good Qualities

already discoverable in Rebekah, which render her Worthy of

Imitation--her industrious and domesticated Habits--Unaffected

Simplicity--Modesty--Courtesy--Humanity.

Rapid, irresistible, and certain is the progress of time. The few

incidents of which human life consists, transpire in quick succession; the

few years of which it is composed, even in cases of the greatest

longevity, soon elapse: the cradle and the grave seem placed very near

each other; and scarcely does the voice of congratulation cease at our

birth, before it is succeeded by the lamentations of sorrow at

our funeral.

There is a wide difference, however, in the actual impression, between

passing through the details of existence in daily and hourly engagements,

which, from their variety, produce an illusion of slowness and a vague

idea of almost interminable continuance, and looking at expended years

_after their termination_, or at successive lives in the perspective of

history. In the latter case, events appear crowded together, the

intervening spaces are riot distinctly perceptible, and the distance is

diminished. If the life of an Abraham, an Isaac, or a Jacob, had been

presented to us in the form of a daily journal of occurrences, how easily

might it have been expanded into a volume equal in dimensions to the whole

inspired record; and how distant would each eventful period of their

respective lives have appeared! how vast would have seemed the space

between them if minuter circumstances had been formally detailed in the

order of months, and days, and hours! Even a single year assumes a

considerable magnitude when viewed as three hundred and sixty-five days,

each day and night as four-and-twenty hours, each hour as sixty successive

minutes, and each minute or hour as occupied with its appropriate and

necessary engagements: but when we ascend that elevated spot to which

history conducts us, and look back upon the long track of time, and

through the course of revolving centuries, we reflect at once on those

images of Scripture with which our imagination has been so often arrested,

and see that the motion of the "weaver's shuttle" scarcely represents the

"swiftness" of our days; the passing shadows that fly across the plain,

imperfectly display the nothingness of fleeting years; "the little time"

in which the "vapour appeareth," is but faintly expressive of the manner

in which life "vanisheth away." It is almost impossible to observe the

small number of pages which relate all that is really worth recording, of

hundreds and even thousands of years, without being deeply affected. A few

chapters suffice to state the principal circumstances relating to the

creation, destruction, and renewal of the world; and a single book

contains, in addition to this information, the lives of patriarchs the

most distinguished, and the account of ages the most eventful and

extraordinary. Solemn consideration--"one generation passeth away, and

another cometh!"

We have been led into these reflections chiefly by observing how rapidly

the inspired writer passes from one event to another in the life of

Abraham, though many years intervened; and especially by noticing the

_immediate_ connexion in which the death and burial of Sarah are placed

with the marriage of Isaac: so nearly allied, so few are the intermediate

steps between the most joyful and the most painful events of human

existence! A marriage to-day--a funeral to-morrow! This hour

congratulated--the next lamented! "Great and marvellous are thy works, O

Lord God Almighty: just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints."

The family histories of the patriarchs are rendered peculiarly attractive

by the simplicity of their manners, and their pastoral mode of living. We

are transported into ages, around which antiquity throws a powerful charm,

and revelation an extraordinary lustre. What are scenes of blood, and

acclamations of triumph, in comparison with the private history of a man

of peace, and a man of piety? what are heroic deeds to virtuous

achievements? and what the most splendid page of secular history to the

beautiful and interesting account of the various transactions relating to

the union of Isaac and Rebekah?

These are so intimately blended together, that the present chapter must

embrace at least a brief notice of them, in order to form an adequate idea

of the heroine of this inimitable Scripture narrative.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1856]

Abraham had now attained the venerable age of one hundred and forty years;

his beloved Sarah was no more; and after weeping over her grave, and

negociating for the entire possession of the field of Ephron in Machpelah,

where she was interred, as a family burying-place, his thoughts were

forcibly attracted towards the day of his own dissolution. "The Lord had

blessed him in all things," but his affections were detached from earthly

possessions, and permanently fixed upon his unchangeable inheritance in

the skies. He "desired a better country, that is, a heavenly; wherefore

God was not ashamed to be called his God, for he had prepared for him

a city."

Previous to his departure, Abraham felt solicitous respecting the

adjustment of his temporal affairs, and particularly the settlement and

marriage of his beloved son. Actuated not merely by the common anxiety of

a parent, who knows that the credit and happiness of his family depend on

the propriety of the connection which he may form; but contemplating with

the eye of faith his future posterity, the patriarch called his eldest and

confidential servant. This was Eliezer of Damascus, the steward of his

house; and, in case of his death, the manager of his affairs. He was,

unquestionably, under that divine direction, which in this as in every

other concern of life, he anxiously sought. It is pleasing to witness the

result which was so evidently connected with the prudence and piety of his

proceedings, and which points us to the never-failing promise, "In all thy

ways acknowledge him, and lie shall direct thy paths," Isaac is not,

indeed, distinctly mentioned, but he was no stranger to prayer; and

having attained his fortieth year, he had doubtless felt a laudable

anxiety to enter into the honourable state of matrimony, expressed his

desires to God, and after concerting the proper measures with his father,

patiently waited the will of Providence.

Abraham explained his views to Eliezer, and exacted a solemn oath

respecting the punctual fulfilment of his commission, in which some of the

characteristic principles of this illustrious saint were conspicuous. In

the selection of a wife for his son, he seems uninfluenced by worldly

policy. He wishes him to connect him with virtue rather than wealth;

knowing that the latter is not only uncertain, but unnecessary to the

purposes of real happiness.

It has been often said, there are "few happy matches;" but the cause of

this fact is seldom traced or regarded. If our calculations be founded

solely upon a reference to temporal interests, if the importance of a

connexion be measured merely by the probable amount of gold it may

produce, or the degree of worldly influence it is likely to confer, we may

add another item to the sum of probabilities--that of _disappointment_.

The inconsistencies into which this strange match-making infatuation has

betrayed some of the greatest and best of men, is truly deplorable; and if

it do not incur immediate calamity, it certainly excites the divine

displeasure. God requires to be honoured in this, no less than in every

other transaction.

Abraham also evinced his characteristic aversion of idolatry. He desired

his servant not to seek a wife for Isaac in Chaldea, but to proceed to

Haran in Mesopotamia, to the house of Nahor his brother. He was particular

in requiring him to swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and the God of

the earth, that he would not take his son a wife of the daughters of the

Canaanites, among whom he resided. The danger of his posterity becoming

blended with idolaters, and contracting their habits, induced him to use

this solemn precaution; although his faith realized the peopling of this

country, by his descendants. His servant put his hand upon his thigh, in

confirmation of the agreement, [13] and immediately prepared for his

journey. The distance from Hebron, the present residence of Abraham, to

Haran, was about seventeen days' journey; and the servant must have

travelled about four hundred and sixty miles.

Servants may learn, from this example, the kind of conduct which adorns

their station. They should be punctual in the discharge of their duties,

and readily comply with the directions they receive. Eliezer felt himself

bound to comply with his master's injunctions, and not only proceeded on

his distant expedition without reluctance and murmuring, but with that

despatch which proves his whole heart was engaged in his duty. If any

should plead, that it was, no doubt, a privilege to have such a master,

and any one would have been happy in such a situation, let them be

reminded that this is a very questionable position; for it is common for

servants to disregard the authority, or undervalue the character of the

best masters and mistresses; but their duty is not to be measured by the

virtue or even the kindness, of their domestic superiors, the apostle

expressly ordaining obedience "not only to the good and gentle, but also

to the froward."

Upon Eliezer's arrival in the vicinity of the city of Nahor, he made his

camels kneel down by a well, intending to supply them as soon as possible

with water. The whole retinue was, no doubt, sufficiently weary with the

journey. It was evening, and about the customary hour when the women of

the country came out to fetch a supply of water. This faithful and pious

servant was aware of this circumstance, but, previous to the arrival of

any of these strangers, he betook himself to solemn and effectual prayer.

His words are remarkable: "O Lord God of my master Abraham, I pray thee

send me good speed this day, and show kindness unto my master Abraham.

Behold, I stand here by the well of water, and the daughters of the men of

the city come out to draw water: and let it come to pass, that the damsel

to whom I shall say, Let down thy pitcher I pray thee, that I may drink;

and she shall say, Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also; let the

same be she that thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac; and thereby

shall I know that thou hast showed kindness unto my master!"

While the words of supplication were still upon the tongue of this worthy

servant, behold a damsel of singular beauty approaches the well! It is, in

fact, Rebekah, who was born to Bethuel, son of Milcah, the wife of Nahor;

and whom an invisible but all-wise Providence had sent at this precise

moment, and by this happy concurrence of circumstances, introduced to the

travelling stranger. Beautiful, young, and artless; bearing a pitcher upon

her shoulder, which she hastened to the well to fill for the necessary

supply of the family; we cannot imagine a more finished picture of

loveliness, or one to which the Miltonian description of Eve, as first

beheld by her admiring partner, is more justly applicable:

"Adorn'd

With what all earth or heaven could bestow

To make her amiable; on she came

Led by her heav'nly Maker, though unseen.

"Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye,

In every gesture, dignity and love."

She speedily descended to the reservoir of water, and filled her pitcher.

[14] The servant was attracted by her remarkable appearance, for she

seemed "like the lily among thorns;" but, at present, remained silent.

Intent upon her proper business, she did not indulge an idle curiosity,

and waste her time, by stopping to make inquiries respecting the stranger,

and his train of camels, which were reclining near the well; nor would she

have been detained a moment, had not a motive of kindness prompted her to

listen to his solicitations for help. He, at length, hastened to meet her,

and requested to drink a little of the water with which she had just

replenished her pitcher. This was granted with the utmost readiness; she

let down the vessel from her shoulder, and desired him to take whatever he

pleased. After this, she kindly offered to supply all his train of camels;

and, regardless of the trouble which such officious hospitality

occasioned, she did not even wait for a reply, but ran to fill the trough,

by repeated draughts of water.

All this time, the man, who, by the way might have rendered this lovely

young woman some assistance, stood gazing in silent astonishment. There

was so striking a coincidence between her conduct, and the wishes he had

been expressing, that he could not help connecting them together.

"Wondering at her, he held his peace, to wit whether the Lord had made his

journey prosperous or not." It seems strange that he should have felt even

a momentary hesitation upon the subject, but it exemplifies the frequent

state of our minds respecting anticipated blessings. We seek them with an

importunity which procures their communication, but, when actually

bestowed, we scarcely believe them to be in our possession, and are too

reluctant to recognize the divine bounty. But what has been sought with

eagerness ought to be acknowledged with promptitude.

As soon as the camels had been supplied, the good man presented Rebekah

with a suitable token of his thankfulness. It consisted of a golden

ear-ring, of half a shekel weight, and two bracelets for her hands, of ten

shekels weight of gold. These were, probably, the costly ornaments which

Abraham had commissioned his servant to bestow upon the future wife of his

son; and which, as he had now seen the accomplishment of his prayer, he no

longer hesitated to give this interesting young woman.

Availing himself of the present favourable opportunity of entering into

some conversation with her, he inquired whose daughter she might be, and

whether she thought her father could afford him and his attendants; and

camels, sufficient accommodation? In the east this was so common an act of

hospitality, that the question did not appear strange, or the request

obtrusive. It was, besides, dictated by a strong suspicion, if not a full

assurance, that he had attained the object of his journey. She gave a

prompt and kind answer: "I am the daughter of Bethuel, the son of Milcah,

which she bare unto Naoh. She said, moreover, unto him, we have both straw

and provender enough, and room to lodge in," The man bowed in thankfulness

to _her_, but in more expressive praise and gratitude to GOD. His heart

was full, and his tongue could no longer remain silent. "Blessed," said

he, "be the Lord God of my master Abraham, who hath not left destitute my

master of his mercy and his truth. I, being in the way, the Lord led me to

the house of my master's brethren." This was the language of _faith_--he

recognizes the divine "mercy and truth" which had promised to multiply and

extend the family of Abraham. It was the voice of _gratitude_--for he

remembers the way in which God had conducted him, and sees the concurrence

of Providence in all that had transpired. It contained also a delicate

intimation to the young women, not only that he came from her venerable

relative, but had some important business with her family. Rebekah made

all possible haste back, and soon circulated through the family the joyful

intelligence of this arrival.

In reviewing what has been hitherto related of this charming story, and

the circumstances of the first interview between the servant of Abraham

and the future wife of Isaac, we beg to present to our young female

readers, a more distinct statement and recommendation of the good

qualities discoverable in Rebekah.

1. Observe her _industrious and domesticated habits._ She was high-born,

and had great connections--she possessed a commanding beauty of person

and fascination of manners--but yet she did not indulge in indolence, or

in frivolous pursuits. At that period luxury and refinement had not

corrupted simplicity of manners, the affairs of a family were usually

under the more direct inspection and management of its principal members,

and custom did not prescribe an avoidance of all careful, nor even of all

laborious, interference in domestic concerns. But there was a cheerfulness

and an assiduity in the whole deportment of Rebekah, that proved it not

merely custom, but a sense of duty that influenced her. She was attentive

to her proper business, neither omitting nor performing it negligently. It

is very unbecoming to see young persons resisting the wishes of their kind

parents, who having had a better experience than themselves, are desirous

of training them to domestic usefulness. Ill do they requite parental

affection, which has devoted, perhaps, a considerable portion of

hard-earned profits to their education in useful branches of knowledge, or

to their acquirement of polite accomplishments: by refusing to assist in

family arrangements, or to submit to that wise after-discipline, by which

they may be prepared to occupy important situations in future life. It is

not the proper business of a woman to _shine_, to court admiration, or to

display superficial acquirements; nor, on the other hand, does either

reason or religion reduce her to the inferior situation of a domestic

drudge; but her education is ill bestowed, and perversely misapplied, if

it unfit her for the appropriate duties of her station, if it make her

proud and petulent, if it raise her above her sphere, and if it indispose

her to a proper "care for the things of the world, how she may please

her husband."

In modern times it would be unjust to impute the entire blame to the young

women themselves; much is attributable to the _system_ which has been

adopted in their education. Nothing indeed can justify, and few things can

be said in extenuation of the guilt of an arrogant disposition, unyielding

to the wishes of tender though perhaps less educated parents; but it is to

be regretted, that the useful is often far less regarded in public

seminaries than the ornamental; and that, while the exterior is polished,

the mind remains comparatively uncultivated. We shall not be understood to

require a total exclusion of elegant instruction, or polite

accomplishments; but let the understanding be well directed, the memory

amply stored, the judgment constantly exercised, the hands usefully

employed, the temper carefully watched and disciplined--above all, let

religion and the fear of God be the basis of the whole fabric, that "our

daughters may be as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a

palace."--"By daughters families are united and connected to their mutual

strength, as the part of a building are by the corner-stones; and when

they are graceful and beautiful, both in _body_ and _mind_, they are then

_polished_ after the similitude of a nice and curious structure. When we

see our daughters well established, and stayed with wisdom and discretion,

as corner-stones are fastened in the building; when we see them by faith

united to Christ as the chief corner-stone, adorned with the graces of

God's Spirit, which are the polishing of that which is naturally rough,

and become _women professing godliness_; when we see them purified and

consecrated to God as living _temples_, we think ourselves happy in them."

[15]

2. We see in Rebekah's interview with the servant of Abraham, a pattern of

_unaffected simplicity_. It is this which throws an inexpressible charm

over the narrative. We see nothing but _nature_; not a particle of false

delicacy or finesse. There is no study, no aim to please, no acting a part

to court esteem, no suspicions about her, and no concealments; but, in

every word and motion, the most perfect artlessness. "When unadorned" she

approaches the well to draw the evening supply of water, she seems

"adorned the most."

Let young ladies beware of affectation. It is one of the most disgusting

qualities that can attach to female character. It will never win esteem,

but will excite ridicule. There is reason to believe that it is frequently

produced in a gradual and almost imperceptible manner, but it takes the

deeper root, and extends the wider influence in consequence of a slow

growth. It is not always easy to make the individual herself sensible of

possessing it, but the surest way of preventing its baneful influence, is

to guard against whatever has a tendency to produce it. Be

yourself--simple and natural. The art of pleasing is--to please without

art. Aim not to shine in borrowed feathers, or to acquire the

peculiarities of another, especially when they are obviously incongruous

with your own native character; and avoid thinking of yourself as of a

person of great consequence in every circle, for this is a most infallible

means of really becoming of no consequence at all.

The only sufficient security against affectation of every kind, is

Christian humility. An inspired writer admonishes us to be clothed with

it; and, where this is wanting, every attempt to conceal deformities of

character will resemble only the thinnest veil, which may be seen through

by the most careless observer. This recommendation may possibly appear to

some rather antiquated and obsolete; we shall, nevertheless, persist in

it, as of essential importance; and support it by quoting the reference of

the apostle to him who has best exemplified the principle, and whose

Spirit alone can effectually impress it upon the heart: "Let nothing be

done through strife or _vain glory_, but in _lowliness of mind_, let each

esteem other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things,

but every man also on the things of others. Let this mind be in you which

was also in Christ Jesus; who, being in the form of God, thought it not

robbery to be equal with God; but made himself of no reputation, and took

upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and

being found in fashion as a man, he _humbled himself_, and became obedient

unto death, even the death of the cross."

3. The _modesty_ of Rebekah was conspicuous. Vain is the effort to obtain

admiration, without this quality. Confining the term to the general

behaviour of females in society, which is its most common application, it

may be considered as opposed to obstrusiveness, and as contradistinguished

from bashfulness. Rebekah waited till the servant of Abraham addressed

her, before she paid any attention to him; and when he put the questions

which have been related, she readily gave him an answer.

Forwardness is so unbecoming the female character, so opposite to all real

delicacy of mind, that no intermixture of other qualities can render it

tolerable. If it be associated with rare and brilliant powers, or very

eminent acquirements, it is calculated to excite envy and hatred, because

it never fails to produce an overbearing conduct. But whatever another's

consciousness of mental inferiority may be, this unhallowed temper will

produce determined resistance. The very worm that crawls upon the earth

will resent the giant's tread. If, on the contrary, it be united to

shallowness of capacity, it will render its unhappy possessor utterly

contemptible notwithstanding other exterior attractions which might

otherwise command attention. It is, in this case, the effect of egregious

ignorance; and so far from extorting respect, it only serves to expose

that inbecility, which, but for this strange mode of attempt at

concealment, might have remained, in a considerable measure, undetected.

Genuine modesty is also distinguishable from extreme bashfulness. As the

usages of civilized society do, by no means, banish females from social

intercourse, it is requisite in avoiding forwardness to retain a certain

degree of self-possession. Boldness and excessive timidity are the two

extremes to be avoided. The latter is irksome, both to the individual

herself, and to others with whom she may be called to associate. It

produces an unnatural character, and, perhaps, may be classed with

affectation. It is to be feared, that many who blush at the merest

trifles, and are confounded at maintaining the least interchange of

sentiment, are too little ashamed of sin, and too unacquainted with the

state of their own hearts. The young need not be mortified at any

deformity but vice, nor afraid even of confessing ignorance, or making

inquiries, so long as they show a proper solicitude for improvement. It

is, in fact, a consciousness of ignorance that leads to the acquisition of

knowledge. It inspires the desire of information, and stimulates to the

use of every means of acquiring it; but a vain and conceited mind is

really ignorant, and is likely to remain so, while it presumes

upon wisdom.

4. _Courtesy_ was another conspicuous feature in the character of Rebekah.

The stranger had no sooner requested a little supply of water, than she

lets down the pitcher from her shoulder, and manifests the most obliging

disposition to render him service. Her whole proceeding evinces good

humour and affability in the highest degree, and the "law of kindness is

in her tongue." Josephus relates that there were other young females with

her, who were asked for water, but refused; and that Rebekah reproved them

for their churlishness. Her civilities were connected essentially with her

promotion, though she had no selfish purpose in view: they resulted solely

from a pure and disinterested generosity of spirit.

Let young women remember that an unfeeling and disobliging temper is

unworthy of their character, and opposite to their real interest. It is at

once a neglect of duty, and a certain forfeiture of esteem. Courteousness

is peculiarly suited to their age and sex, and particularly expected of

them. Nor should the exercise of this disposition be restricted merely to

their superiors or equals; it ought to characterize their behaviour to

their dependents and inferiors. If young people display affability only

when in company with others, who move in the same, or in a more elevated

sphere of life than themselves, but assume consequence, and betray an

arrogant spirit amongst their servants; we cannot but suspect that their

good qualities are only apparent, and their motives selfish. The true

character of every person is to be learned at home, and at times when no

exterior influences operate to make persons different from themselves.

Then the mask is taken off, meretricious ornaments are dispensed with,

and consequently native qualities appear. Tyrannical conduct may compel

obedience, but an amiable spirit alone can command affection, and render

servitude pleasant. There are, indeed, great constitutional differences;

but it is no apology for petulance to say, it is natural to us, or that we

were born irritable. Our constitutional imperfections ought to be

carefully watched, and resolutely corrected. Irregularities of temper are

capable of being subdued by the vigorous efforts of religious principle.

It is possible, by careful and constant discipline, to subdue the most

untamed spirit; and is equally politic, because it renders its possessor

disagreeable to others, and miserable in herself.

It is on many accounts not only wicked, but foolish, to conduct yourselves

with provoking superciliousness towards inferiors. Courtesy is easily

practised, and the reverse dangerous to your own peace and comfort.

Besides, it is scarcely possible to think of a human being so utterly

contemptible, that his esteem is not worth possessing, or so morose that

he may not be conciliated by kindness: and in a world in which we are

liable to such reverses, and exposed to such reproaches, the friendship of

the meanest person may be advantageous. Hence, it is well remarked by Dr.

Barrow, "the great Pompey, the glorious triumpher over nations, and

admired darling of fortune, was at last beholden to a slave for the

composing his ashes, and celebrating his funeral obsequies. The honour of

the greatest men depends on the estimation of the least: and the good-will

of the meanest peasant is a brighter ornament to the fortune, a greater

accession to the grandeur of a prince, than the most radiant gem in his

royal diadem. However, the spite and enmity of one (and him the most weak

otherwise and contemptible) person, may happen to spoil the content of our

whole life, and deprive us of the most comfortable enjoyments thereof; may

divert our thoughts from our delightful employments, to a solicitous care

of self-preservation and defence; may discompose our minds with vexatious

passions; may, by false reports, odious suggestions, and slanderous

defamations, blast our credit, raise a storm of general hatred, and

conjure up thousands of enemies against us; may, by insidious practices,

supplant and undermine us, prejudice our welfare, endanger our estate, and

involve us in a bottomless gulf of trouble."

5. We may take occasion, from Rebekah's kindness, to commend another

quality for which she was distinguished--_humanity to animals_. Abraham's

servant merely requested some water to quench his own thirst; but she felt

for the dumb creatures that attended him, who could only express their

wants by signs. She offered to supply his camels, and hastened to fill the

troughs, that they might drink. How kind, how considerate was this! There

are few persons of a really amiable temper, who do not cherish an

attachment to animals; still we should distinguish between a proper

attention to their necessities and comforts, and that excessive caressing

fondness which is unbecoming a rational being.

But in what language shall we sufficiently denounce _cruelty_ to animals?

Are they not the creatures of God; and endowed with capacities both of

pain and pleasure? Why should we inflict unnecessary pain, even upon the

meanest reptile? Who has given us authority to do so? By what argument, or

by what sophistry, shall we seek a justification of such conduct? Why

should we abridge the short span of existence allotted to the inferior

creation, especially when we recollect that "the spirit of a beast goeth

downward;" and that, being destitute of immortality, the whole period of

their enjoyment is limited to the short date of their life on earth? It is

the mark of a debased mind to seek amusement from the writhings of

defenceless creatures, to sport even with the agonies of a fly. Parents

and guardians of youth should particularly guard against the encouragement

of a principle of cruelty, by allowing this practice. Children should not

be suffered to indulge in such abuses, but should rather be taught to set

a proper value upon the life and liberty of an animal. The subsequent

maltreatment of the lower creation, many of the outrageous passions that

in maturer life disgrace the uneducated part of society, and even the cold

insensibility to the necessities of others, which so often obtains in the

higher circles, may be traced to this early commencement. The future

tyrant is formed in the hours of sportive cruelty; and he who in infancy

practices on a fly, may in maturity domineer over an empire. It is

important to trace evil passions and principles to their origin, to watch

their developement and first operations, and, at the earliest possible

period, to implant corrective sentiments in the youthful mind.

Solomon represents it as characteristic of "a righteous man," that he is

"merciful to his beast;" and if it be censurable to assail the meanest

insect which is not positively noxious, how much more to abuse those

animals which contribute to our domestic comfort and security? This may be

done, not only by beating, goading, and over-driving the laborious ox, or

the swift-paced horse, by whom we cultivate our fields, or pursue our

commercial concerns; but by stinting them of food, supplying them with

insufficient or inferior provender, or leaving them to careless or

peculating hands. Jacob was a specimen of kindness to animals--Balaam of

brutality. The Mosaic law wisely and mercifully provided for the ox which

trod out the corn, an enactment worthy of the supreme legislator, and

coincident with the feelings of every humane heart.

SECTION II.

The Servant of Abraham cordially received into the House of Laban--tells

his Story--proposes to take Rebekah--Consent of her Family--her

Readiness to go--the Interview with Isaac--Rebekah become his

Wife--their Anxieties--Birth of Jacob and Esau--Isaac's Death-bed, and

Rebekah's unwarrantable Proceedings--her Solicitude respecting her

Son's future Conduct.

We left the good old servant of Abraham at the well of water--we

listened to his grateful acknowledgments to Heaven for prospering his

journey--and we saw the interesting daughter of Bethuel run home to inform

her friends of the extraordinary circumstance that had occurred. She had

met a stranger--he had accepted her assistance, and presented her with

costly ornaments--he had requested the customary rites of hospitality--he

had been praying like a servant of the most high God--he had even

intimated that he was travelling to fulfil some special commission of his

master and their relative, the venerable Abraham! Every heart welcomed the

tidings, and mutual congratulation circulated through the family.

Laban, the brother of Rebekah, whoso mercenary spirit viewed with

peculiar satisfaction the ear-ring and bracelets which had been presented

to his sister, hastened immediately to the well, and gave the messenger of

Abraham a warm invitation to his home: "Come in," said he, "thou blessed

of the Lord; wherefore standest thou without? for I have prepared the

house and room for the camels." If we were quite certain that this pious

language was dictated by a proportionable purity of motive, we should be

highly gratified with it; but, alas! how common is it to use words of

customary congratulation without meaning, and to sacrifice sincerity to

politeness!

The man accepted the invitation; his camels were soon ungirded and

supplied with provender, water was furnished to wash his feet and those of

his men, and the table spread with a plentiful supply of provision for

their refreshment. We need not be surprised, however, that he refuses to

eat till he has introduced the important business upon which he came! the

good man's heart is overflowing, and he prefers the discharge of his duty

before his "necessary food." O that all our obedience to God were

characterized by a similar zeal and fidelity!

"Speak on," said Laban: upon which, with admirable skill and perfect

ingenuousness, he recounts a series of simple facts, interweaving his

narrative with such touching arguments as proved irresistible: he stated

without the vanity of a superior domestic who was actually the steward of

the family, that he was "Abraham's servant;" and then proceeds to mention,

not his own exploits, or merit, or influence, but the opulence and

prosperity of his master; his becoming great and rich in "flocks and

herds, and silver and gold, and men-servants and maid-servants, and camels

and asses," he devoutly ascribes to "the Lord:" but at the same time gives

the fact a prominence in his discourse well calculated to conciliate the

persons he addressed, and prepare them for his subsequent statements. He

now proceeds to mention Isaac, taking care to intimate the weighty

considerations, that he was the son of the illustrious patriarch whom he

served, by Sarah his beloved wife; born at an advanced period of their

lives, and therefore young, as well as the child of promise, and heir of

all the wealth which his master possessed. He then explicitly refers to

the solemn oath by which he had been bound to seek a wife for his son; not

amongst the idolatrous Canaanites near his own residence, but amongst his

kindred in Haran. Dear is the name of _kindred_, especially when families

are separated at such distances of time and space from each other, that

they scarcely expect to meet again in an unbroken circle, and renew the

embraces of friendship. It is then the tenderest sensibilities are

excited, the fondest remembrances renewed, and the heart becomes

accessible to every endearing impression!

Eliezer, having now gained the ear and won the regard of the listening

circle, next adverts to the conversation which had passed previously to

the commencement of his journey; in which he exhibits to great advantage

the faith of his master Abraham, and the particular direction of his

wishes, By repeating the story of his interview with Rebekah at the well,

in connexion with the command to seek a wife for Isaac among the kindred

of the family, he points at once to the object he had in view, and appeals

to their piety in estimating the movements of Providence. They must

consider whether all these concurring circumstances were not evidences of

a divine interposition, and whether some important consequences were not

likely to result from the proposed connexion: "And now, if you will deal

kindly and truly with my master, tell me; if not, tell me; that I may turn

to the right hand or to the left." In all this the very spirit of his

master is conspicuous in the servant; he had not lived with Abraham in

vain; a similar fear of God was before his eyes, and the same solicitude

to fulfil the duties of his station; he could not eat, he could not drink,

till he had disburdened his full heart, and ascertained the probability of

success in his important mission.

Every servant may here take a lesson of fidelity to his master on earth,

and every servant of Christ especially, who sustains the ministerial

character, may see a fine specimen of the ardour, energy, and affection

with which it becomes him to execute his high commission. This delicate

service upon which Abraham's servant was sent to Nahor, was honourably

discharged; but how much more "he that winneth souls is wise!"

What could the friends of Rebekah say to the appeal they had heard? Laban

and Bethuel were overwhelmed. There was a mysterious singularity in the

whole train of circumstances, calculated to impress the most indifferent

and superficial mind, and they bowed to the interposing wisdom of the

Supreme Disposer. As soon as the solemn feeling produced by such an

extraordinary narrative was sufficiently regulated to permit them to

speak, they joined in expressions of devout acknowledgment and submissive

consent; "The thing proceedeth from the Lord; we cannot speak unto thee

bad or good. Behold, Rebekah is before thee; take her and go, and let her

be thy master's son's wife, as the Lord hath spoken."

This was a moment of exquisite satisfaction; but whence did it originate?

Not surely so much in worldly as in religious considerations. The period

was arrived, that anxious period to the parent, for the marriage of his

lovely Rebekah; and now he was satisfied with the disposal of her to a

distant relation. A worldly mind would have rejoiced indeed in the outward

suitability of the match, but especially in the flattering prospect of

great possessions which it presented. These inferior views too generally

and too exclusively influence matrimonial alliances; the hearts both of

the young and the aged are captivated by the splendours of life, as if

they necessarily secured the possession of real happiness, or as if they

could compensate for the absence of those mental and moral qualities which

can alone constitute the basis of substantial comfort. But in the present

instance, whatever pleasure might be lawfully derived from the assurances

which were given of the opulence of Abraham, and from the endearing

circumstance of the already existing relationship between the two

families, it was the perception of a _Providence_, superintending and

guiding the whole arrangement, that occasioned these most delightful

feelings; it was not an idolatrous, but a pious connexion, and God had

given the most striking indications of his will.

Let parents remember, that with whatever temporal prosperities they may

connect their beloved daughters, there is no security for permanent

happiness without real religion; and let children consider, that if the

fear of God do not possess their own breasts, and influence their

matrimonial choice, the delirium of pleasure will soon be past, and a

sense of inexpressible vacuity be left behind. The world is a gay

deceiver, and life a fleeting dream; the mists of illusion which gather

over the morning of existence, gradually disappear as the day advances;

and this imagined scene of enchantment, this fairy-land of pleasure

subsides into the reality of a thorny wilderness. The only preparation for

such a change, is a piety which seeks its happiness on high, and knows

that no earthly condition can form a paradise without the presence of the

blessed God.

The faithful servant, having adored the divine goodness for thus evidently

prospering his way, gave suitable presents to this happy family; jewels of

silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment, were presented to the young and

beautiful bride elect, and "precious things" to her mother and brother:

after this he could eat, necessary food being sweetened by temporal and

spiritual blessings.

The next morning, faithful to his commission, and eager to return, he

presses for a dismission, to which we need not wonder that the brother and

mother object, requiring him to remain at least ten days: still he urges

his request, and pleads that the Lord had prospered his way: but how

natural is their reluctance to part in a moment from so dear a daughter,

never perhaps to see her face again! They at length agree to defer the

decision of the affair to herself: Rebekah, with all the frankness so

remarkable in her whole deportment, instantly replied, "I will go."

It may appear mysterious, that when her parents pleaded only for a few

days, when modesty would even seem to have dictated a little delay; and

when filial tenderness must have powerfully resisted so sudden and

immediate a departure, that she should express so prompt a compliance,

without even stipulating for a single day. Something perhaps may be justly

imputed to the times, but far more to the religious state of her own mind;

a sense of duty overwhelmed a feeling of reluctance, together with every

inferior consideration. She was doubtless in the habit of daily

intercourse with God, and in fervent prayer had sought divine direction:

she saw an overruling providence--God was in the affair--his finger,

visible to the eye of faith, pointed out the way in which she should go,

and with unhesitating obedience she confessed her readiness to part with

all the felicities of home to seek a distant alliance, at the voice of

that sovereign Power to whom she committed her future destiny. Flattering

as the scene before her must have appeared to a mere worldly eye, the

sacrifices she made at this moment of compliance were certainly most

considerable. What could have led to such an answer, when standing between

the tears, the tenderness, the entreaties of parental and fraternal

affection, and the urgency of a mere stranger, the _servant_ too of her

future house--but a faith which overcame the world, and dictated her holy

resolution? _Heaven_ appointed her journey, and _nature_ pleaded in vain.

To every reader we recommend the noble principle which actuated this young

heroine. Let inclination bow to a sense of duty--let God be obeyed rather

than man--let not only authority be resisted, but even the fondest

endearments sacrificed to the divine requirements. Apply this principle to

a higher occasion, and remember that the Son of God has declared, "If any

man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and

children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot

be my disciple; and whosoever doth not bear his cross and come after me,

cannot be my disciple."

How tender, how affectionate is the parting scene! How the heart speaks in

every word! The whole group seems placed before our eyes; and we witness

the tears that flow, the sighs that heave each bosom; we seem to hear the

faltering yet fond accent, in which the dear forsaken family pronounce

the last benediction, "Thou art our sister; be thou the mother of

thousands of millions, and let thy seed possess the gate of those which

hate them."

Behold Rebekah, quitting the scene of her infancy and youth; Painful was

the sacrifice, but pleasant the service: a thousand objects would revive

the remembrance of past occupations and occurrences; a thousand

circumstances rush into her memory; her susceptible mind would often

retrace the scenes once so familiar, now to be abandoned for ever;

affection would often recal the names of Bethuel and Laban, and filial

tenderness would weep at the thought of maternal anxiety. She was about to

commit her happiness to the disposal of another--to form another

connexion--to seek another home--the young plant was removed by Providence

to take root in a new soil and situation. This is always a moment of

trial, and in the usual manner of estimating life, an experiment of

doubtful issue; but he who "commits his way to the Lord," and "leans not

to his own understanding," but at the call of duty, in the spirit of

prayer, dissolves or forms connections, may reasonably hope for the

"blessing which maketh rich" in all the essentials of happiness. Young

people! venture not upon a single step without a previous application for

guidance to the "throne of grace," lest by inconsideration and rashness

you forfeit the favours you might have secured by piety. At your eventful

period of life the transactions of _one day_ are likely to affect the

welfare _many succeeding years_; and if you would reap a future harvest of

joy, you must sow in present tears and prayers.

No incident of the journey is mentioned till the cavalcade was nearly

arrived at Hebron; they then saw a person walking in a thoughtful

attitude; and Rebekah, suspecting probably that he might be one of the

household establishment of Abraham, inquired of the servant, "What man is

this that walketh in the field to meet us?" The servant informed her that

it was his young master, the son of Abraham; he was come into the field

for the purposes of meditation and prayer. She instantly took a veil and

covered herself, alighting from the camel. This was done in compliance

with the usages of the times, as a part of the ceremonial belonging to the

presentation of a bride to her intended husband: the eastern brides are

generally veiled in a particular manner upon such occasions. This custom

seems at once expressive of female modesty and subjection.

Isaac appears to have avoided addressing her when he perceives the veil,

but taking the servant aside, he learns from his mouth the long and

pleasing tale of every circumstance in his journey; he participates the

general feeling, and with emotions of gratitude and gladness conducts his

Rebekah into the tent of Sarah, whose loss he had so deeply regretted,

that now for the first time, he was comforted respecting it. After the

customary mode, Rebekah became his wife, and he loved her. [16]

Peace be to that dwelling, the residence of a dutiful son and a tender

husband--a kind, generous, open-hearted, pious wife! Dear were the ties of

nature which united them, but still dearer the bonds of religion! It was a

day they never could forget--it was a friendship that could never be

dissolved! What could be wanting to complete their bliss? Approving

friends, reciprocal attachment, concurring providences, smiling heaven,

sanctioned the proceeding. At present their cup was full to the brim--not

a bitter ingredient mingled in the portion. But while we congratulate

their situation, let us imitate their example; and if we would participate

a similar felicity, cherish a similar spirit: we may be fully assured that

real piety will sweeten the pleasures and possessions of life; it may even

prevent, and will certainly sanctify, disappointments.

We are, however, easily misled; looking only at the outward appearance,

(and in general little more can be known of the history of families,) it

is common to fancy the prosperous, and persons of the greatest

connections, really possessed of the most abundant share of happiness. In

some cases every earthly good seems to be the allotted portion, and we are

ready to imagine that sorrow has found no means of access, no door of

admission: but a very slight knowledge of the world is sufficient to

ascertain that there is a "crook in every lot," and that this world is not

the destined abode of unmingled enjoyment. This remark is exemplified in

the history of Isaac and Rebekah. Twenty years elapsed, and they had no

children: this must have been a severe affliction, not only because at

that period a general hope of being connected with the Messiah led all

pious persons to be solicitous of a family, but because Isaac was the son

of promise, the multiplication of his seed was distinctly recorded, and he

had formed his matrimonial connection in the fear of God. As he partook

of the trial, he seems to have been endowed with the spirit of his

illustrious father; though he lived childless, he did not cherish

despondency, but "entreated the Lord for his wife," which was the only

effectual means of procuring the blessing.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1836.] His prayer was heard; but this new

favour was attended with unusual anxieties, which proved signs of future

events. She ultimately bore twins, of which the elder was destined to

serve the younger. As names were usually given in reference to the

circumstances attending the birth of children, so _Esau_ signified _red,_

in allusion to his colour, and _Jacob_ signified the _supplanter._ Esau,

and his posterity the Edomites, were of a sanguinary disposition, and

peculiarly hostile to Israel; Jacob supplanted his brother in the

birthright; Esau was "a cunning hunter, a man of the field;" Jacob, a "a

plain man, dwelling in tents."

From the earliest period of their lives we may trace the existence of

those partialities in the two parents which have so frequently disquieted

the otherwise most harmonious families. The Scriptures assign a particular

cause for the fondness which Isaac cherished for Esau, which seems a most

lamentable weakness in so venerable a man: it arose from his eating of his

venison; for he was given to the indulgence of his appetite. Surely when

we observe how the greatest of men have been guilty of some of the most

unaccountable littleness, it should awaken us to holy jealousy over

ourselves, and induce us to establish a system of constant, laborious, and

impartial self-inspection.

The occasion of Rebekah's partiality is not distinctly recorded; it might

possibly have originated in his being more domestic, and attentive to

herself. [17] The usual effects resulted from these partialities: Isaac

was blind to the sins of his son, who soon pursued a course of conduct

that occasioned both his parents the deepest grief; while Rebekah's

fondness involved herself and her favourite child in the greatest

criminality.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1750.]

Having attained an advanced period of life, and becoming conscious of

increasing infirmities, Isaac took measures to convey the patriarchal

benediction and the blessings of the covenant to his posterity. With this

view he called his eldest son, and in accents of fondness requested him to

go and procure him that savoury kind of food to which he was so partial;

after which he expressed his intention of pronouncing the blessing, and

thus securing for him, as he imagined, the mercies of the Abrahamic

covenant. Overhearing this conversation, Rebekah thinks of her favourite

son, and instantly devises a plan to supersede his elder brother. This

was, indeed, conformable to the determination of Providence; but is no

justification of her sinful policy. If it were even her intention to

accomplish the divine promises, the plea would not vindicate her doing

evil, that good might come.

Her object being to countervail the design of her husband, she instantly

commences a system of manoeuvring to carry her point. We must consider her

now as under a particular temptation, and evidently acting inconsistently

with the natural ingenuousness of her character, no less than with the

principles of her religion. The proper course would have been that of

persuasion, entreaty, or remonstrance; but under the apprehension that

Isaac's extravagant attachment to his darling child would render this

unavailable, she deviates at once from the path of rectitude to gain her

purpose. It is most unfortunate when the heads of families are influenced

by opposite wishes, and refuse a fair, candid exposition of their own

views to each other. Confidence is the basis of friendship, and in no case

should be cherished with more assiduous care than in domestic life.

Active in the execution of a scheme she had so promptly devised, Rebekah

states to Jacob all that had passed between his father and his elder

brother; proposing, or rather commanding him to go to the flock with all

possible despatch, and fetch two kids of the goats; "and I," says she,

"will make them savoury meat for thy father, such as he loveth; and thou

shall bring it to thy father, that he may eat, and that he may bless thee

before his death." Jacob hesitates--not, however, as we could have wished,

at the execution of the plan; but solely because he is apprehensive of its

failing, and producing unhappy consequences. Jacob was pacified by his

mother's offer to run all hazards, and incur the whole responsibility of

the transaction. She reiterates her request with all the fervour that a

better cause should have inspired; and has not long to wait in a state of

irksome suspense, before the favourite of her excessive affection returns

with the kids. Not a moment is to be lost--every thing is put in

requisition--the savoury meat is soon prepared. The hunter's speed is

outstripped by management and artifice--in vain he toils over the

lengthening field. Jacob is introduced, by his mother, into Isaac's

apartment, clothed in the goodly raiment of Esau, covered on the more

exposed parts of the body with the skins of the kids, to make him resemble

his hairy brother; and presents the food with due formality and

dissembling eagerness to the blind old patriarch. Some suspicions,

however, are awakened--"Who is it?"--"I am Esau, thy first-born."--"How

can this be--how quickly thou hast returned?"--The young man blushes and

trembles--but he must either confess or persevere--there was no

alternative--the mother's eyes probably intimated that he _must_ persist

in his deception. Awful to relate! he ascribes his good success,

personating Esau, to "the Lord." Isaac pursues other measures to obtain

satisfaction. His voice appears altered, and he begs to _feel_ his

son--the falsehood silences, but does not satisfy him. At length, he is

persuaded--he blesses him, and eats the venison. Though the dupe of

atrocious artifice, Isaac is, nevertheless, under supernatural direction,

and was afterwards unable to revoke his benediction.

But what did Rebekah gain by this detestable contrivance? She saw, indeed,

her favourite son inheriting the blessing; but this would have descended

upon him without her interference, according to the predeterminations of

Providence. She saw also a just recrimination upon her deceit on the part

of observant Heaven. The original dislike of the two brothers was kindled

into a raging flame. Esau burned with indignation at being thus cajoled,

and resolved to avail himself of the day of mourning for his father, to

satiate his resentment in his brother's blood: and Rebekah, to save both

their lives, was obliged to send her guilty, but favourite son, to a

distance. Thus were the latter days of both the parents imbittered by

their indiscreet and criminal partialities!

After the departure of Jacob, the fond mother becomes not merely

solicitous for his safety, but anxious respecting his future conduct. She

reflects on the temptation to form an idolatrous alliance to which he

might become exposed, unchecked by parental authority, and under

circumstances which would naturally induce him to seek a shelter from the

storm of adversity in the bosom of conjugal endearment. If the language of

Rebekah, upon this occasion, be tinctured with impatience, we cannot but

feel gratified to see it founded upon religious sentiment. "And Rebekah

said to Isaac, I am weary of my life, because of the daughters of Heth: if

Jacob take a wife of the daughters of Heth, such as these which are of the

daughters of the land, what good shall my life do to me?"

We are unwilling to part with Rebekah precisely at this point of her

history; but here it is that the sacred narrative drops her name. It is

written, however, we doubt not, on the imperishable pages of another

volume, which is emphatically styled, "the Lamb's book of life."

This abrupt termination suggests, amongst other considerations, the

_truth_ of the narrative. If it had been the purpose of the writer to

exhibit the subject of his story to the admiration of posterity, or to

display his own powers, rather than to represent fact or record

instructive biography, he would have carefully avoided whatever tended to

diminish the interest of the whole, and give it an unfinished appearance.

By concealing some of the more unsightly parts of the picture, and by

rendering prominent others of a more attractive character, he might have

contrived to accomplish an _effect_, though at the expense of truth and

reality. But the sentiments and prepossessions of the writer disappear

from the narrative of Scripture. There is no effort to conceal any facts

which may be supposed to weaken the general impression, or to introduce

explanatory or encomiastic statements which may be thought to strengthen

and enhance it. In every page, in every sentence, it is apparent that the

great object is instruction, and not amusement. The historian has no

private views--no partialities--no misconceptions--the pen of inspiration

is dipped in the fountain of truth, and "holy men of God spake as they

were moved by the Holy Ghost."

Let the sad inconsistencies which disgrace the closing part of Rebekah's

history, awaken every reader to a just sense of the importance of a

persevering uniformity of character. It is of great consequence, that we

adorn the religion we profess, and that our light shine more and

more--that we grow in grace as we advance in years, and that we do not

resemble the changing wind or the inconstant wave. Let us improve the

failure and irregularity of others to the purpose of self-examination;

and, while we neither extenuate nor aggravate their faults, aim to avoid

them. We have enough to encourage, yet sufficient to caution us, A life of

unblemished piety is almost as rare an occurrence, as a day of unclouded

brightness; but many such adorn the annals of the church, and the grace of

God is fully competent to multiply their number.

Miriam.

Chapter VI.

Proceedings of the new King of Egypt--Birth of Moses--Conduct of

Miriam--Preservation of Moses--Escape of Israel--Miriam's Zeal in

celebrating the Event--her Character formed by early

advantages--Contrasted with Michal--she engages with Aaron in a Plot

against Moses--God observes it--Trial--Punishment of Leprosy inflicted

upon Miriam--her Cure--dies at Kadesh--general Remarks on

Slander--debasing Nature of Sin--Hope of escaping Punishment

fallacious--Danger of opposing Christ--Exhortation to imitate the

Temper of Moses.

The family of Amram was distinguished by a very striking peculiarity. All

the three younger branches of which it consisted, Aaron, Moses, and

Miriam, because eminent in ancient Israel. Their history is considerably

intermingled; but the latter, from the design of this work, will claim our

chief attention.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ 1571.]

Sixty-four years had elapsed from the death of Joseph, when the "_new_

king over Egypt," influenced by an ill-founded jealousy of the Israelites,

adopted one of those measures to which weak and wicked princes are

sometimes excited by an unhappy combination of bad counsel, and

mean-spirited perverseness. Instead of regarding this people, who had been

prodigiously multiplied by a series of unexampled prosperities, as the

most valuable portion of his subjects, and the best security to his crown;

this Pharaoh was jealous of their strength, and determined to weaken it by

a course of systematic oppression. This he called "dealing _wisely_ with

them;" whereas it would have been infinitely wiser, even upon principles

of mere political prudence, to say nothing of justice and humanity, to

have conciliated by kind treatment, rather than have exasperated by

barbarous exactions, six hundred thousand of his subjects!

His plan was, in the first place, to set over them taskmasters, to afflict

them with extraordinary burdens; but, to his extreme mortification, "the

more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew." Still his

obstinacy did not permit the least relaxation of that rigorous discipline

he had imposed: although, while he imbittered their lives, he failed of

promoting his own interest. Disappointment exasperated his malignity; and

he issued orders to certain Hebrew women, of whom Shiphrah and Puah are

named as the principal in their office, to destroy every male child that

should be born. They ventured, however, to disobey this mandate; the fear

of God not allowing them to commit murder, though enjoined to do so by

royal authority. The king called them to an account for their

disobedience, and "charged all his people, saying, Every son that is born

ye shall cast into the river, and every daughter ye shall save alive."

When we have such an awful display of the excess of human passions, that

fearful band of banditti that is for ever disturbing the peace of society,

it should inspire us with holy solicitude to suppress the first emotions

of sin in our hearts, and to aspire after the dignity and the bliss of

dominion over ourselves. Alas! how many who have been victorious over

foreign powers, could never achieve this nobler conquest of internal

depravity!

The command of Pharaoh to his too tractable slaves, introduces us to the

story of the birth and preservation of Moses. His mother--unenviable name

in this sad season of calamity!--his weeping mother, by a thousand

schemes, such as maternal fondness and ingenuity would naturally devise

to save the little darling of her heart, contrived to conceal this "goodly

child" for the space of three months; but finding it impossible to hide

him any longer, she took him--and with what feelings, say, ye

tender-hearted mothers!--to the river Nile.

--"A dealing parent lives

In many lives; through many a nerve she feels;

From child to child the quick affections spread,

For ever wand'ring, yet for ever fix'd.

Nor does division weaken, nor the force

Of constant operation e'er exhaust

Parental love. All other passions change

With changing circumstances; rise or fall,

Dependent on their object; claim returns;

Live on reciprocation, and expire,

Unfed by hope. A mother's fondness reigns,

Without a rival, and without an end."

H. MORE.

Miriam, an interesting actor upon this occasion, accompanied her mother.

Willing to adopt every possible expedient, even at this last extremity,

the afflicted parent had prepared a little boat of bulrushes, which grew

plentifully on the bank; and, making it water-proof by the use of pitch

and tar, she put the child into it, committed it to the uncertain

elements, and retired from the heart-rending scene. Poor Miriam, his

sister, supposed to be at this time about ten or twelve years of age, was

placed at a distance to watch the event. Dear little sentinel! what heart

can refuse to pity thy sad employment! who does not sympathize with thy

sorrow, and begin to mourn with thee for thy anticipated bereavement!

Imagination listens to strains which seem to strike upon the ear of

distant ages:

"The flags and sea-weeds will awhile sustain

Their precious load, but it must sink ere long;

Sweet bade, farewell! Yet think not I will leave thee.

No, I will watch thee, till the greedy waves

Devour thy little bark."

The dispensations of Providence are indeed considerably diversified; but

at what an early period does affliction familiarize itself, even with the

happiest family! Behold Moses, in his cradle of bulrushes, exposed to the

waters and the crocodiles of the Nile! Behold his little sister at some

distance, participating the cares of her mother, and already at the outset

of life deluged with a storm of grief. She had learned to love the

babe--she had fondled it, and felt the kindlings of sisterly

affection--and at an age just sufficiently advanced to realize something

of the nature and extent of her loss, the new-born infant is torn from her

heart by the hands of sanguinary violence. It was because he was a Hebrew

child. His danger, and the distress of Miriam and her mother, arose from

their belonging to the persecuted Israelites; but with all their

disadvantages in this unfriendly world, let the children of pious parents

rejoice, even amidst their tribulations and reproaches, in being connected

with the people of God. It is an honour which, however at present

overlooked, will hereafter be fully appreciated, both by those who have

desired and those who have despised it!

At this juncture, the daughter of Pharaoh, to whom Josephus has given the

name of Thurmutis, came down with her maidens to the river-side; and

perceiving the frame of bulrushes, sent her servant to fetch it. Upon

opening it the little stranger wept. Her heart was touched with

compassion, and she said, "This is one of the Hebrew children."

Miriam, all observant and alert, seized the happy moment, introduced

herself, or perhaps she was called by the royal lady; but dexterously

contrived to propose her going to call a Hebrew nurse to nourish and rear

it as her adopted child. Divinely influenced by him who has all hearts in

his hands, and moves them by his secret touch, she consents; and who

should the well-instructed young messenger bring, but the babe's own

mother! Pharaoh's daughter intrusted the adopted stranger to her care, and

pays her for a service which she would willingly have rendered even at the

hazard of her life. The child grew, and, from the expression of the sacred

historian, appears to have become a favourite with this illustrious

princess. "And she called his name Moses; and she said, Because I drew him

out of the water." Such is the story, which needs none of the Rabbinical

embellishments to make it additionally interesting or wonderful.

Miriam is next introduced to us upon an occasion the most remarkable that

ever occurred in the history of the world. Miracle after miracle had been

performed by the instrumentality of Moses, ere the infatuated king of

Egypt could be persuaded to dismiss the children of Israel; and no sooner

had he given his consent to their removal, than taking an immense army he

pursued them to their encampment, which was by the sea, beside Pihahiroth,

before Baal-Zephon. The terrified fugitives complained to their leader,

who presented fervent supplications to Heaven for their deliverance. The

ear of mercy heard; he was commanded to take his rod, and stretch it over

the waters, upon the assurance that they should instantly divide, and

present a dry channel, over which they might safely pass. Awed by a divine

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1491.] power the retiring waves became a

wall of defence on either side, while the pillar of a cloud guided their

adventurous march. During the night, the Egyptian and Israelitish armies

were kept asunder, in consequence of the cloud affording a miraculous

light to the one, and shedding disastrous darkness upon the other.

Pharaoh, obdurate and furious, led on his troops into the new-formed

channel; and already by anticipation seized in the grasp of his mighty

malice, the prey which he intended to tear and devour. "And it came to

pass, that in the morning-watch the Lord looked upon the host of the

Egyptians through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the

host of the Egyptians, and took off their chariot-wheels, that they drave

heavily: so that the Egyptians said, Let us flee from the face of Israel:

for the Lord fighteth for them against the Egyptians. And the Lord said

unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand over the sea, that the waters may come

again upon the Egyptians, upon their Chariots, and upon their horsemen.

And Moses stretched forth his hand over the sea, and the sea returned to

his strength when the morning appeared; and the Egyptians fled against it;

and the Lord overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of the sea. And the

waters returned, and covered the chariots, and horsemen, and all the host

of Pharaoh that came into the sea after them; there remained not so much

as one of them."

What a scene did the light of morning exhibit to Israel! Pharaoh's

chariots, his chosen captains, and all his host, had perished; "the depths

had covered them, they sank into the bottom as a stone." But, as if the

waters refused to harbour even the bodies of these enemies of the people

of God, they were no sooner drowned than thrown, by the indignant billows,

upon the sea-shore. See their ranks broken, their persons disfigured,

their glory for ever extinguished! Their unburied and unpitied remains

proclaim how fearful a thing it is to fall into the hands of God, and how

dangerous it is to venture upon "touching" his people, which is, in

effect, "touching the apple of his eye."

Anxious to celebrate so miraculous a victory, a victory achieved without a

battle, and by the special interposal of an omnipotent arm, Moses composed

that celebrated song of thanksgiving which is recorded in the fifteenth

chapter of the book of Exodus. It is remarkable, not only on account of

its intrinsic excellency, but as being composed six hundred and

forty-seven years before the birth of Homer, the best of heathen poets,

and, therefore, the most ancient piece of poetical composition in the

world. It is characterized by the beauty and boldness of its imagery, the

strength of its language, and the piety of its sentiments. If brought into

comparison with the finest specimens of human genius that have since

delighted mankind, its superiority must instantly be established.

According to the practice of the age, Miriam, with whom we are

particularly concerned at present, appeared at the head of the women to

congratulate Israel upon this splendid event, in responsive strains and

dances. She was anxious only to aid the universal joy, and express in

every possible manner her accordance of sentiment with that of her two

illustrious brothers, Moses and Aaron, and the thousands of Israel. Happy

was it for Miriam, that, instead of leading the unhallowed and prostituted

festivities of heathen gods, she was "educated in the Jews' religion;"

and, from infancy to maturer years, had been taught to sing the praises of

the great I AM! Nor did she merely mingle her undistinguishable notes of

joy with her country-women and her nation; but, from the ardour of her

zeal, and the general superiority of her character, she took the lead in

these devotional raptures. Her early advantages, and her pious connexions,

had contributed essentially to the formation of her future character. They

not only contributed to impress a holy bias upon her mind, but to prepare

and mould her into that characteristic pre-eminence, by which she occupied

so conspicuous a station among the Israelites, and was ranked with their

two illustrious leaders. [18] What might not be anticipated from the

singular concurrence of such means in her favour? She was the sister of a

man who refused the honours of a court, and perhaps of a crown, to incur a

voluntary degradation with the afflicted people of God; and with him she

enjoyed a familiar and incessant intercourse. She had, besides, received

her earliest lessons in the school of adversity, and was become an eminent

proficient in sacred knowledge.

Let us duly appreciate, but be cautious of overrating, the advantage of

religious education. It did not necessarily follow, from the means which

Providence so amply and so graciously dispensed to Miriam, that she should

become a truly religious person, much less that she should acquire such

distinction in Israel; but while we gratefully admit, that good

instruction is calculated to effect the best results, and will commonly

produce them, it does not infallibly secure the end; nor can it at any

time prove available, independently of the blessing of God. With the use

of that system of means which is established in the providential

arrangements of Heaven, his concurring sanction may be expected;

although, to show the impotency of mere means, and to fulfil the secret

purposes of the divine government, they are sometimes totally inefficient.

It was the privilege of Miriam to be born an Israelite, and to have pious

relatives; and it is our advantage to live in an age, and to be born in a

country, blessed with the pure light of the Christian revelation. But

religion is personal in its nature; and unless our advantages be improved,

it is in vain that we have possessed them. Providence may give us Abraham

for our father, and impenitence may incur perdition for our portion! It

was to the most distinguished, and to the most boasting of the Jewish

fraternity, that Jesus Christ afterward declared, "I know you, that ye

have not the love of God in you."

The conduct of Miriam, on the triumphal occasion already mentioned,

exhibits a striking contrast to that of Michal, the daughter of Saul, when

at a subsequent period, the ark of God was brought from the house of

Obed-edom into the city of David. Harps, psalteries, timbrels, cornets,

cymbals, and all kinds of musical instruments, were put in requisition

upon that interesting day; and David disarraying himself of the dress of

royalty, and substituting the lighter linen vestment of the priest, danced

before the ark in a devout ecstacy. But Michal, instead of uniting in the

shouts of universal gladness, and extolling her husband's humility and

zeal, addressed him in this taunting language, "How glorious was the king

of Israel to-day, who uncovered himself to-day in the eyes of the

handmaids of his servants, as one of the vain fellows shamelessly

uncovereth himself!" From David's vindication of his behaviour, and from

the punishment inflicted on this inconsiderate woman, we perceive how

little capable irreligious characters are of estimating the nature and

value of those extraordinary acts of piety, for which eminent saints have

been always distinguished; and how displeasing to God is their proneness

to vilify those whom they ought rather to admire. In the present instance,

however, Miriam inspires the song, and leads the dance, vying with the

other sex in expressions of praise, and recognizing with equal joy an

interposing Providence. While Moses exclaims, "I will sing unto the Lord;"

Miriam, with no tardy zeal, utters the responsive and animating strain,

"Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously, the horse and his

rider hath he thrown into the sea."

Union in religious exercises is conducive to holy pleasure, and no sight

can he more gratifying than that of brethren and sisters engaging with

heart and voice in the praises of God. Within the small circle of a single

family, what a considerable portion of happiness--such as the world cannot

possibly supply--is dispensed, when every heart is in tune to devotion,

and no discordant sympathies blend with the universal feeling of pious

delight. It resembles a young plantation, which the gentle gales of the

south bend in the same direction--all under the same divine influence, all

tending to the same point. But never had witnessing spirits before beheld

such a scene on earth, as that of a _whole nation_ assembled to celebrate

the praises of Jehovah--never till the day of deliverance from the Red

Sea, had they before listened to such acclamations as those of all the

tribes and tongues of the thousands of Israel united in one general,

instantaneous, and harmonious song. Now a world, which having been

characterized by its apostacy, was marked by signs of displeasure--a world

from which only a few notes of holy praise, a few strains of sincere

devotion, had ascended to heaven from individual saints during the long

course of more than _two thousand five hundred years_--seemed beginning

to redeem its character; and rise to the dignity of serving God!

If blessed spirits were not permitted to break silence, and mingle their

congratulations with man, as they did when incarnate mercy descended to

Bethlehem, who can doubt the reality of their sympathy and satisfaction,

when the songs of Moses and Miriam were thus emulating "the song of the

Lamb?" Faith travels onward to a future and still happier day, when

_every_ redeemed individual, from amongst men, shall be permitted to utter

his voice in the great chorus of eternity, in which the millions of the

human race, who have "washed their robes and made them white in the blood

of the Lamb," shall unite with the unfallen universe in the praises of

Heaven. By the visions of the apocalypse, we are admitted to a view of the

employments of that celestial state, and the very prospect of it is highly

calculated to kindle a warm devotion. How truly trifling do all the

pursuits of time appear to the exercises and enjoyments of happy beings

around the throne, who, elevated above this mortal sphere, behold the

unveiled glories of God and the Lamb, and drink immortal bliss from "the

fountain of living waters." The many angels round about the throne, and

the living creatures and elders, whose number is ten thousand times ten

thousand, and thousands of thousands, are represented as _uniting_ in the

same immortal song, adoring the same Lord, and celebrating the same

redemption. It is thus--exhilarating anticipation!--the devotions of time

will expand into the songs of eternity; thus the services of earth issue

in the raptures of heaven!

The course of the history of Israel at length introduces us to a very

different, but perhaps a no less instructive scene. Miriam must not only

be contemplated in a new, but unpleasing light. Hitherto she had been the

coadjutor of her brother Moses, but now becomes his opponent, pursuing a

line of conduct, in consequence of indulging a guilty passion, which

usually produces the most deplorable effects, and which we cannot but

lament should have been so conspicuous in this illustrious woman. The

circumstance alluded to is recorded, with the characteristic fidelity of

the inspired historians, in the twelfth chapter of the book of Numbers.

"Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous; but who is able to stand before

_Envy?_" To this latter principle must be attributed the plot in which

both Aaron and Miriam engaged to diminish the reputation of Moses. This

was not indeed the ostensible reason, but it was their real design; and

occasioned the severe, but just chastisement which was immediately

inflicted. Seldom do any of the baser passions act without combining and

blending themselves with hypocritical pretences, in order to conceal from

view their own hateful deformity. This will be found particularly the

case, when they prevail in persons who have acquired respectability and

influence, and who are not given over to total blindness and hardness of

heart. Artifice may sometimes conduce to success, but it usually betrays

character.

Aaron and Miriam spake _against_ Moses, but not _to_ him. If they had

observed any thing objectionable in his administration of public affairs,

it would have been candid, fair, and kind, to have taken a private

opportunity for expostulation or inquiry. Not only was he extremely

accessible, but they were his relatives, and in habits of daily intimacy

and communication. They knew him well, and saw him often. Such a conduct

would have done them honour, and although their surmises had proved

incorrect, Moses would have applauded their ingenuousness. But, alas!

these dear relatives, and otherwise good and great characters, had become

envious of their brother; and acting conformably to the invariable

meanness of such a spirit, they secretly circulated reports in the camp

tending to disparage his excellence, for the purpose of advancing their

own pretensions to popular estimation. Their arrogance is sufficiently

apparent from their words, "Hath the Lord indeed spoken ONLY by Moses?

Hath he not spoken ALSO by us!"

Can this be _Aaron?_ Can that be _Miriam?_ The one the _brother_--the

other the _sister_ of Moses? Persons too, venerable for their years, and

for their office, and only next in honour to the great legislator and

leader of Israel? It may have comported with the ambition of a Pagan to

exclaim, "I had rather be the first man in a village, than the second in a

kingdom;" but is such language befitting the lips of saints and prophets

of the true God? Was not _Aaron_ the person that sought the intercession

of his brother when he had committed idolatry? Was he not consecrated a

high priest unto God? Was not _Miriam_ his elder sister, who acted so

conspicuous a part in his early preservation, watching his bulrush-cradle

when exposed to the waves and the monsters of the Nile? Was it not

_Miriam_ that accompanied him in his prosperities, that hailed his

increasing glory, that aided his triumphant songs when the Egyptian army

was submerged in the Red Sea? and can _Miriam_ be envious? Strange

infatuation!

But, perhaps, we are really censuring ourselves. Listen to the unbiassed

voice of conscience. Does it not thunder in your ears, "Thou art the man?"

Art thou insensible to its powerful and just remonstrances, "Wherein thou

judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doeth the

same things?" O beware of this mean, creeping, reptile spirit! Persons in

eminent stations may, in a certain degree, expect to suffer from the wiles

of envy: But to suffer from those of their own household, and from persons

on whose friendship they have had the greatest reason to rely, must be

peculiarly afflictive. If it be possible to add one drop to the bitterness

of such a portion, it is by being envied, and consequently depreciated, by

those who are _associated in the same sacred office_. A remark upon this

subject cannot be misplaced, the history seems rather to claim it. A

mortal creature cannot be invested with a more important commission than

that of the ministry of the word. So highly did the apostle of the

Gentiles appreciate his work, that, gifted as he was in every requisite to

discharge it with honour and success, he exclaimed, "Unto me, who am less

than the least of all saints, is this _grace_ given, that I should preach

amongst the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ." But if each

heavenly ambassador be really convinced that he and his brethren are

intrusted with an office at once so dignified in its nature, so useful in

its design, so extensive in its duties, that no one can adequately fulfil

for himself what would be sufficient to expend the energies of an angel;

and that the combined exertions of all the preachers that ever have, or

ever will, minister in holy things, cannot _wholly_ occupy the sphere of

possible usefulness, were every power of the mind, and every moment of

time, made tributary to the service--if this were duly considered, surely

instead of envying, depreciating, and thwarting each other, perfect love

must prevail, and mutual assistance be incessantly rendered. The world is

sufficiently disposed to reproach the servants of the sanctuary; they

should not undervalue each other. Nothing can exceed, and no words can

express, the littleness of attempting to construct our own fame upon the

ruins of others; and when this temper exists, as it sometimes

unquestionably does, amongst those who teach humility, it is singularly

detestable. Ministers of the divine word should be guardians of each

other's reputation, aware that the honour, and in some degree the success

of it depends upon the _character_ of its publishers and representatives.

Miriam and Aaron should have been the last, while, such is human nature,

they were the first, to envy Moses!

Mark the origin of those depreciating reports which they contrived to put

in circulation. They had taken some offence respecting Zipporah, his wife,

who is called the Ethiopian woman. The precise occasion of this offence

cannot, and need not, be ascertained. Some have supposed it was on account

of his having married her; but as this had taken place forty years before,

and, being perfectly legal, could have furnished no just ground of

crimination, the probability is, that some recent occurrence, grounded

perhaps on personal and long cherished antipathy, produced a difference.

Some private contention might have existed; that ungovernable member, the

tongue, had inflamed resentments; and a revengeful spirit fastened the

blame upon Moses, whose only offence was, probably, some meek and

pacifying word.

But what connexion subsisted between the marriage of Moses with an

Ethiopian woman, and the pretentious of Aaron and Miriam to an equality

with their illustrious brother? Truly, none at all. Their conduct is a

striking display, not only of the virulence of envy, but of the progress

and resentful nature of anger. It always wanders from its subject, and

ranges around for new materials upon which to operate. It possesses the

perverse capacity of converting every thing into an element of mischief,

of inventing circumstances and envenoming objections. It seeks to enlist

others into its services, and to bring every thing into a confederacy

against the peace of its object. It is limited by no bounds, and

restrained by no considerations; it will often, like the exasperated judge

of Israel, pull down ruin upon his own head, for the sake of destroying

others. The present contention began about Zipporah, but it ended in Moses

himself. It was, perhaps, at first, a common-place strife; but at length

it assumed the shape of a settled hostility. It was but a spark, and if

angry passions had not blown it, soon it might have gone out; imprudence

and revenge raised and extended it into a vast conflagration.

Family quarrels are, of all other dissentions, the most to be deprecated.

We should be careful to prevent them, and if they occur, take effectual

and speedy measures for their extinction. Let us not be tenacious of our

own opinions, or determined upon practising our own plans. It becomes the

Christian, both for his own sake and for the interest of religion, to make

every possible sacrifice to peace. Pour the oil of gentleness upon the

stormy billows of strife: ever remembering that "a brother offended is

harder to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the

bars of a castle."

One expression in this narrative merits particular notice. Let the envious

detractor tremble at the words, "the Lord heard it." It requires not the

tone of thunder to penetrate the ear of God: his omniscience perceives the

secret whisperings of slander, and even the inaudible and unexpressed

surmises of a perverted mind. Moses may have been ignorant of the

industrious malignity of his brother and Miriam, or disregardful of any

intimations on the subject; for a person of integrity is unwilling to

believe, without very compulsory evidence, the dishonesty of others; or,

if it cannot be discredited, he will patiently pursue that course which

will eventually place injured innocence in the point of complete

vindication. In this he resembled the great Exemplar of every virtue of

whom he was an eminent antitype, and of whom it is recorded, that "when he

was reviled, he reviled not again, but committed himself to him that

judgeth righteously."

But whether _Moses_ did or did not hear, or, hearing, disregarded the

detractions of his nearest relatives, _God_ observed them, and instantly

came down to express his displeasure. The two delinquents were summoned to

the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, with their much-injured

brother: the glory of the Shekinah appeared, and the solemn voice of the

divine majesty issued from the cloud of his presence. The superiority of

Moses was proclaimed, and an unanswerable question proposed to them,

"Wherefore then were ye not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?" As

an indication of anger, the symbolic cloud instantly removed from the

tabernacle; and Miriam, the most forward, and perhaps the first in this

transgression, became "leprous, white as snow."

Aaron was shocked at the sight, and had immediate recourse to the man he

had before so defamed, humbly requesting him to pass over the sin they had

perpetrated, and entreating his powerful intercession with God on behalf

of their afflicted sister. Moses, obeying at once the impulse of humanity,

piety, and fraternal attachment, pleaded for her restoration. He was

graciously heard. Miriam was excluded from the camp only seven days,

during which the journeyings of Israel were suspended, to express the

displeasure of God at their concurrence in her transgression, and to show

the kind intermixture of mercy with judgment in the divine proceedings.

After this, the people removed from Hazeroth, and pitched in the

wilderness of Paran.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 1451.]

With this instructive story the history of Miriam closes, excepting the

brief notice of her death at The encampment at Kadesh, where she was

buried. Josephus relates, that after interring her with great solemnity,

the people mourned for her a month. This occurred in the fortieth year

after the departure from Egypt, Eusebius says, that in his time her

sepulchre was still to be seen at Kadesh.

Whether the imputation be true or false, that women are particularly

addicted to the vice of slander, it cannot be deemed unsuitable to suggest

a caution upon this subject. Character is a sacred thing, and it is

unworthy of you to trifle with it. To sit in judgment upon others, and to

pronounce a hasty verdict upon actions which may be carelessly

misrepresented, or words, if not intentionally, yet heedlessly misquoted,

without affording an opportunity to the condemned individual to speak for

himself, is unjust in the extreme. But how many excellent persons are made

the butt of ridicule, or tossed about as the playthings of a gossipping

spirit, which, incapable of a direct charge, gratifies its malignity by

infusing calumnies into the too listening ear of prejudice. An idle report

is, by this means, magnified and circulated to an incalculable extent; or

the infirmities of excellent characters animadverted upon, for no other

purpose than to fill up the waste moments of a ceremonious visit. Women

should assume their proper rank, by aspiring to the dignity of rational

intercourse; and not degrade themselves, and disquiet society, by

engaging in petty warfare against the reputation of others.

Let what is termed _religious conversation_ turn rather upon _things_ than

_persons_; otherwise men in public station, perhaps of equal though

dissimilar excellence, will be in danger of undue praise or excessive

depreciation. The favourite preacher will be unmercifully extolled, and

the unpopular one as cruelly degraded. A clashing of opinion will be

likely to produce rivalries, and invigorate partialities; till, probably,

the effect of their respective labours is lost upon these fair but

injudicious critics. Let young women, especially, take the hint, and "set

a watch upon the door of their lips." Beware of indiscriminate censure, or

extravagant applause. Regard the ministers of the word as the servants of

God. Receive instruction from their lips with all humility, pray for their

increasing wisdom, and tenderly cherish their good name. If a Moses, with

all his excellencies, seem to you to assume, or in any respect to commit

an error, do not be the first to publish it abroad in the camp, or to

aggravate, by misrepresentation, a failing which is blended with such

acknowledged worth. Remember, it is as likely that _you_ should be

mistaken in your judgment, as that _he_ should be faulty in spirit or

conduct; and that if your detractions be not visited with an outward token

of displeasure, resembling the loathsome deformity of Miriam, which

required a veil, they render you most unlovely in the sight of God and

man. "The tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue amongst

our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the

course of nature, and it is set on fire of hell. For every kind of beast,

and of birds, and of serpents, and things in the sea, is tamed, and hath

been tamed of mankind: but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly

evil, full of deadly poison."

The situation of Miriam during her exclusion from the camp suggest an

observation on the debasing nature of sin. When engaged in the exercises

of religion, and taking the lead in the celebration of the overthrow of

the Egyptian army by the interposing providence of God, she appears the

glory of her sex and the ornament of her country; but from the moment she

indulges a guilty passion, her honour is tarnished, her dignity degraded,

and her pre-eminence lost; the moral defilement she has contracted is

marked by an external deformity, and issues in a degrading separation.

Miriam is deeply conscious of her guilt, and confounded at its bitter

consequences: she feels that she is a sufferer because she was a sinner;

and would no doubt have made any sacrifice could it have been possible to

regain the forfeited paradise of peace and innocency. But we have here a

specimen of the inevitable consequence of sin. It does not indeed

generally incur immediate and temporal punishment; but it degrades the

perpetrator of it in the eyes of God, in the opinion of others,

(especially the wise and good,) and in his own sight: it lowers him in the

scale of being, at once diminishing his reputation and contracting his

means of usefulness. If the face of Miriam recovered its beauty, and the

eyes of Israel could discern no external blemishes, it is questionable

whether a scar would not ever after be discernible upon her character: and

even should her indulgent friends have forgotten, and God have graciously

forgiven her past iniquities, Miriam, as a true penitent, would scarcely

ever forgive herself: the very consciousness of pardoning mercy would

often renew the sensations of penitence; and moments of holy joy would

ever after be bedewed with tears of humiliation.

From this example it is further obvious, that the hope of escaping the

divine displeasure on account of sin, under the notion of being the

professed people of God, is altogether delusive; sin is detestable in the

eyes of perfect purity _wherever_ it exists, and can neither escape

detection nor elude chastisement. Its perpetration by his own people is

rather a reason for more signal and exemplary chastisement, than for any

kind of exemption from it; because the motive to obedience arising from

gratitude and other sources is proportionably stronger; and because a

contrary proceeding would tend to disparage the divine government, by

affording a plausible pretence to the doctrine of salvation _in_ sin, and

not _from_ it. The eminence of Miriam rendered her disgrace the more

requisite as a punishment, and the more salutary as an example: the

leprosy in her face was a practical lesson, which every Israelite could

not fail of understanding, and probably would not soon or easily forget.

It is, besides, not only the necessary tendency of sin to procure its own

punishment, but such is the appointment of God: it constitutes an

essential part of the great system of his moral government to unite them

together; and no mortal power can disconnect them. Sooner or later every

transgressor must be humbled; he _must_ fall--by judgment, or by

penitence--before the sword of excision, or into the arms of mercy. Happy

for us if external visitations produce internal prostration of spirit; if,

instead of stiffening ourselves into resistance, we bend to the

inflictions of parental chastisement; and if present and temporary

sufferings excite a feeling which will supersede the necessity of future

and more awful visitations.

If, again, Miriam were so severely visited for speaking against _Moses_,

how fatal will prove the consequences of resisting _Christ!_ The secret

whisperings of envy and ambition against the _servant_ of God, occasioned

a public and awful punishment: what tremendous wrath may not they expect

who reproach or disregard his beloved _Son!_ "If they escaped not, who

refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape if we turn

away from him that speaketh from heaven."

This remarkable manifestation to Miriam, Aaron, and Moses, may remind us

of that period which is hastening on the rapid wings of time, when the

descending Judge of the universe will "come in the clouds of heaven with

power and great glory," "the glory of the Father and all the holy angels,"

to summon every class, and all the generations of mankind, to his

tribunal, and pronounce their final, irreversible, everlasting doom: then,

like Moses, his servants will be vindicated from every charge, honoured by

witnessing celestials, admitted through the gates into the city of the New

Jerusalem, be emparadised forever in the embraces of their God. Then, like

Miriam and Aaron, a guilty race, which has plotted against the righteous,

and opposed by their impenitence, if not their actual persecutions, the

prosperity of his cause and people, will be driven, not into temporary

exile and disgrace, but into ever-during darkness. "These shall go away

into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal." The

pride of Miriam was intelligibly marked upon her smitten countenance; and

the sin of transgressors will be written by the finger of God in

appropriate and conspicuous characters upon their immortal destinies. Thus

will the perfections of the Deity for ever blaze in the flames of

perdition, and irradiate the temple of glory!

Finally, imitate the conduct of Moses, who, on this occasion, so nobly

displayed a conduct which the Redeemer of the world thus inculcated as an

essential part of his religion: "Pray for them that despitefully use you

and persecute you." His intercession for Miriam, who had so cruelly

injured him, was prompt and ardent; instead of resenting her calumnies, or

triumphing in her merited affliction, he prayed for her recovery! Here we

see the very spirit of the Gospel under the law! a Christian in the habit

of a Jew! Superior to the age in which he lived, he seemed in character

and temper to have anticipated a far distant period of evangelical

illumination; to have caught, so to speak, by ascending the summits of

faith and hope, some of the yet unrisen splendour of the Sun of

Righteousness; to have been in a sense the _disciple_, as he was the most

illustrious _antitype_ of Christ, even centuries previous to his

incarnation! The cross is indeed the centre of union and the point of

attraction to all ages and nations. There the antediluvian and patriarchal

saints associate with those of later times, imbibing one spirit,

coalescing upon one principle, meeting in one sacred spot, conjoined in

one fraternal band! The wise and the good of a former dispensation looked

forward with anticipating pleasure to the great event, which we are

permitted to contemplate with retrospective joy. Hail, happy hour! when we

shall meet with all the redeemed in one glorious assembly; not as at

present, _by faith_, on mount Calvary, but _in reality_, on mount Zion--in

a world where the imperfections of Christians shall be removed, and their

excellencies completed--where Miriam shall not envy Moses, nor Moses be

exhibited in contrast with Miriam!

Naomi, Orpah, and Ruth.

Chapter VIII.

SECTION I.

History of Domestic Life most instructive--Book of Ruth--Sketch of the

Family of Elimelech while residing in Moab--Reflections arising out of a

View of their Circumstances--Naomi's Resolution to return, and that of

her Daughters-in-law to accompany her--Orpah soon quits her Mother and

Sister--Her Character, and that of Ruth--Requirements of Religion--

Arrival of Naomi and Ruth at Bethlehem--feelings of the Former.