PART I.

Transcriber's note:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).

Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).

Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.

Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained

except in obvious cases of typographical error.

MISCELLANEOUS

WRITINGS

of C.H.M.

The

Lord's Coming

_Miscellaneous Writings of_

C. H. MACKINTOSH

_Volume II_

LOIZEAUX BROTHERS

_New York_

FIRST EDITION 1898

TENTH PRINTING 1960

LOIZEAUX BROTHERS, INC., PUBLISHERS

_A Nonprofit Organization, Devoted to the Lord's Work

and to the Spread of His Truth_

19 WEST 21ST STREET, NEW YORK 10, N. Y.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

Pages

"GOD FOR US" 1-23

"WHO LOVED ME"--_Poem_

THE CALL OF GOD; OR, REFLECTIONS ON THE

CHARACTERS OF ABRAHAM AND LOT 3-60

"THOU AND THY HOUSE;" OR, THE CHRISTIAN

AT HOME 3-48

DISCIPLESHIP IN AN EVIL DAY 3-22

SIN IN THE FLESH AND SIN ON THE CONSCIENCE 1-8

GOD'S WAY AND HOW TO FIND IT 3-16

THE UNEQUAL YOKE 5-38

GIDEON AND HIS COMPANIONS 3-56

MY BELOVED--_Poem_

ETERNAL PUNISHMENT 2-8

PAPERS ON THE LORD'S COMING 3-111

_The original numbering of these writings has been retained. Many of

the above may be had separately in pamphlet form._

"GOD FOR US"

(ROMANS VIII. 31.)

How much is wrapped up in these few words, "God for us!" They form one

of those marvelous chains of three links so frequently found in

Scripture. We have "God" linked on to "us" by that precious little

word "for." This secures every thing, for time and eternity. There is

not a single thing within the entire range of a creature's necessities

that are not included in the brief but comprehensive sentence which

forms the heading of this paper. If God be for us, then it follows, of

necessity--blessed necessity--that neither our sins, nor our

iniquities, nor our guilt, nor our ruined nature, nor Satan, nor the

world, nor any other creature can possibly stand in the way of our

present peace and our everlasting felicity and glory. God can dispose

of all--has disposed of them, in such a way as to illustrate His own

glory, and magnify His holy name, throughout the wide universe,

forever and ever. All praise and adoration be to the eternal Trinity!

It may be, however, that the reader feels disposed, at the very

outset, to inquire how he is to know his place amongst the "us" of our

precious thesis. This, truly, is a most momentous question. Our

eternal weal or woe hangs upon the answer. How, then, are we to know

that God is for us? In reply to this most weighty question, we shall

seek, by God's grace, to furnish the reader with five substantial

proofs that God is for us, in all our need, our guilt, our misery,

and our danger--for us, spite of all that we are, and all that we have

done--for us, although there is no reason whatever, so far as we are

concerned, why He should be for us, but every reason why He should be

against us.

The first grand proof which we shall adduce is--

THE GIFT OF HIS SON.

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that

whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting

life." (John iii. 16.)

Now, we are glad, for various reasons, to commence our series of

proofs with these memorable words. In the first place, they meet a

difficulty which may suggest itself to the mind of an anxious

reader--a difficulty based upon the fact that the sentence culled from

Rom. viii. 31 evidently applies primarily to believers, and only to

such, as does the entire epistle and every one of the epistles.

But, blessed be God, no such difficulty can be started in reference to

the all-embracing, and encouraging words of Him who spake as never man

spake. When we have from the lips of our blessed Lord Himself, the

eternal Son of God, such words as these, "God so loved _the world_,"

we have no ground whatever for questioning their application to each

and all who come under the comprehensive word "world." Before any one

can prove that the free love of God does not apply to him, he must

first prove that he does not form a part of the world, but that he

belongs to some other sphere of being. If indeed, our Lord had said,

"God so loved a certain portion of the world," call it what you

please, then verily it would be absolutely necessary to prove that we

belong to that particular portion or class, ere we could attempt to

apply His words to ourselves. If He had said that God so loved the

predestinated, the elect, or the called, then we must seek to know our

place amongst the number of such, before we can take home to ourselves

the precious assurance of the love of God, as proved by the gift of

His Son.

But our Lord used no such qualifying clause. He is addressing one who,

from his earliest days, had been trained and accustomed to take a very

limited view indeed of the favor and goodness of God. Nicodemus had

been taught to consider that the rich tide of Jehovah's goodness,

loving-kindness, and tender mercy could only flow within the narrow

inclosure of the Jewish system and the Jewish nation. The thought of

its rolling forth to the wide wide world had never, we may safely

assert, penetrated the mind of one trained amid the contracting

influences of the legal system. Hence, therefore, it must have sounded

passing strange in his ear, to hear "a teacher come from God" giving

utterance to the great fact that God loved not merely the Jewish

nation, nor yet some special portion of the human race, but "the

world." No doubt, such a statement would add not a little to the

amazement felt by this master in Israel at being told that he himself,

with all His religious advantages, needed to be born again in order to

see or enter the kingdom of God.

Do we then deny or call in question the grand truth of predestination,

election, or effectual calling? God forbid. We hold these things as

amongst the fundamental principles of true Christianity. We believe in

the eternal counsels and purposes of our God--His unsearchable

decrees--His electing love--His sovereign mercy.

But do any or all of these things interfere, in the smallest degree,

with the gracious activities of the divine nature, or the outgoings of

God's love towards a lost world? In no wise. God is love. That is His

blessed nature, and this nature must express itself toward all. The

mistake lies in supposing that because God has His purposes, His

counsels, His decrees--because He is sovereign in His grace and

mercy--because He has chosen from all eternity a people for His own

praise and glory--because the names of the redeemed, all the redeemed,

were written down in the book of the slain Lamb, before the foundation

of the world--that therefore God cannot be said to love all

mankind--to love the world--and, moreover that the glad tidings of

God's full and free salvation ought not to be proclaimed in the ears

of every creature under heaven.

The simple fact is that the two lines, though so perfectly distinct,

are laid down with equal clearness, in the word of God; neither

interferes, in the smallest degree, with the other, but both together

go to make up the beauteous harmony of divine truth and to set forth

the glorious unity of the divine nature.

Now, it is with the activities of the divine nature and the outgoings

of divine love that the preacher of the gospel has specially to do. He

is not to be cramped, crippled, or confined in his blessed work, by

any reference to God's secret decrees or purposes, though fully aware

of the existence of such. His mission is to the world--the wide wide

world. His theme is salvation--a salvation as full as the heart of

God, as permanent as the throne of God--as free as the air--free to

all without any exception, limitation, or condition whatsoever. The

basis of his work is the atoning death of Christ which has removed all

barriers out of the way, and opened up the floodgates in order that

the mighty tide of divine love may roll forth, in all its fulness,

richness and blessedness, to a lost and guilty world.

And here, we may add, lies the ground of man's responsibility in

reference to the gospel of God. If, indeed, it be true that God so

loved the world as to give His only begotten Son--if "the

righteousness of God is unto all" (Rom. iii. 22)--if it be God's

gracious will that "all should be saved and come to the knowledge of

the truth" (1 Tim. ii. 4)--if He is "not willing that any should

perish but that all should come to repentance" (2 Pet. iii. 9)--then

verily is every man who hears this glorious gospel laid under the most

solemn responsibility to believe it and be saved. No one can honestly

and truthfully turn round and say, "I longed to be saved, but could

not, because I was not one of the elect. I longed to flee from the

wrath to come but was prevented by the insuperable barrier of the

divine decree which irresistibly consigned me to an everlasting hell."

There is not, within the covers of the volume of God, in the entire

range of His dealings with His creatures, in the aspect of His

character, or in the enactments of His moral government, the very

faintest shadow of a foundation for such an objection. Every man is

left without excuse. God can say to all who have rejected His gospel,

"I would, but ye would not." There is absolutely no such thing as

reprobation in the word of God, meaning thereby the consignment on

God's part, of any number of His creatures to everlasting damnation.

Everlasting fire is prepared for the devil and his angels. (Matt.

xxv.) Men _will_ rush into it. "Vessels of wrath" are fitted, not by

God, but by themselves, "to destruction." (Rom. ix.) Everyone who gets

to heaven will have to thank God for it. Everyone who finds himself in

hell will have to blame himself for it.

Furthermore, we have ever to remember that the sinner has nothing to

do with God's unpublished decrees. What does he--what can he--know

about such? Nothing whatever. But he has to do with God's published

love--His proffered mercy--His free salvation--His glorious gospel. We

may fearlessly assert that so long as these glowing and glorious words

shine in the record of God, "_Whosoever will_ let him take of the

water of life _freely_," (Rev. xxii. 17) it is impossible for any son

or daughter of Adam to say, "I longed to be saved, but could not. I

thirsted for the living water, but could not reach it. The well was

deep and I had nothing to draw with." Ah, no! such language will never

be used, such an objection will never be urged by anyone in all the

ranks of the lost. When men pass into eternity they will see with

awful clearness what they now affect to think is so obscure and

perplexing, namely, the perfect compatibility of God's electing

sovereign grace and the free offer of salvation to all--the fullest

harmony between divine sovereignty and human responsibility.

We fondly trust the reader sees these things, even now. It is of the

very last possible importance to maintain the balance of truth in the

soul--to allow the beams of divine revelation to act, with full power,

on the heart and conscience, unimpeded by the murky atmosphere of mere

human theology. There is imminent danger in taking up a certain number

of abstract truths and forming them into a system. We want the

adjusting power of _all truth_. The growth and practical

sanctification of the soul are promoted, not by some truth, but by

_the_ truth, in all its fullness, as embodied in the person of Christ,

and set forth by the eternal Spirit in the holy scriptures. We must

get rid completely of all our own preconceived notions--all merely

theological views and opinions--and come like a little child, to the

feet of Jesus to be taught by His Spirit, from out His holy word. Thus

only shall we find rest from conflicting dogmas. Thus shall all the

heavy clouds and mists of human opinion be rolled away, and our

enfranchised souls shall bask in the clear sunlight of a full divine

revelation.

We shall now proceed with our proofs.

The second fact which we shall adduce to prove that God is for us will

be found in

THE DEATH OF HIS SON.

And, for our present purpose, it is only necessary for us to take up

one feature in the atoning death of Christ, but that one feature is a

cardinal one. We refer to the marvellous fact set forth by the Holy

Ghost in the prophet Isaiah, "It pleased Jehovah to bruise Him. He

hath put Him to grief." (Chapter liii.)

Our blessed Lord might have come into this world of sin and sorrow. He

might have become a man. He might have been baptized in the

Jordan--anointed by the Holy Ghost--tempted of Satan in the

wilderness. He might have gone about doing good. He might have lived

and labored, wept and prayed, and, at the close, gone back to heaven

again, thus leaving us involved in deeper gloom than ever. He might,

like the priest or the Levite, in the parable, have come and looked

upon us in our wounds and misery, passed by on the other side and

returned alone to the place from whence He came.

And what if He had? what, reader, but the flames of an everlasting

hell for thee and me? For, be it well remembered, that all the living

labors of the Son of God--His amazing ministry--His days of toil and

His nights of prayer--His tears, His sighs, His groans--the whole of

His life-work, from the manger up to, but short of, the cross, could

not have blotted out one speck of guilt from a human conscience.

"Without shedding of blood is no remission." No doubt, the eternal Son

had to become a man that He might die; but incarnation could not

cancel guilt. Indeed, the life of Christ, as a man on this earth, only

proved the human race more guilty still. "If I had not come and spoken

to them, they had not had sin." The light that shone in His blessed

ways only revealed the moral darkness of man--of Israel--of the world.

Hence, therefore, had He merely come and lived and labored here for

three-and-thirty years, and gone back to heaven, our guilt and moral

darkness would have been fully proved but no atonement made. "It is

the blood that maketh atonement for the soul." "Without shedding of

blood is no remission," (Heb. ix. 22.)

This is a grand foundation-truth of Christianity, and must be

constantly affirmed, and tenaciously held. There is immense moral

power in it. If it be true that all the life-labors of the Son of

God--His tears, His prayers, His groans, His sighs--if all these

things put together could not cancel one single speck of guilt; then,

indeed, may we not lawfully inquire what possible value can there be

in our works--our tears--our prayers--our religious services--our

ordinances, sacraments and ceremonies--the whole range of religious

activity and moral reform? Can such things avail to cancel our sins

and give us a righteousness before God? The thought is perfectly

monstrous. If any or all of these things could avail, then why the

sacrificial, atoning death of Christ? Why that ineffable and

inestimable sacrifice, if aught else would have done?

But, it will perhaps be said that, although none of these things could

avail _without_ the death of Christ, yet they must be added to it. For

what? To make that peerless death--that precious blood--that priceless

sacrifice of full avail? Is that it? Shall the rubbish of human

doings, human righteousness, be flung into the scale to make the

sacrifice of Christ of full avail in the judgment of God? The bare

thought is positive and absolute blasphemy.

But are there not to be good works? Yes, verily; but what are they?

Are they the pious doings, the religious efforts, the moral activities

of unregenerate, unconverted, unbelieving nature? Nay. What then? What

are the Christian's good works? They are _life-works_, not dead works.

They are the precious fruits of life possessed--the life of Christ in

the true believer. There is not anything beneath the canopy of heaven

which God can accept as a good work save the fruit of the grace of

Christ in the believer. The very feeblest expression of the life of

Christ, in the daily history of a Christian, is fragrant and precious

to God. But the most splendid and gigantic labors of an unbeliever

are, in God's account, but "dead works."

All this, however, is a digression from our main line, to which we

must now return.

We have said that, for our present purpose, we shall merely refer to

one special point in the death of Christ, and that is the fact that it

pleased Jehovah to bruise Him. Herein lies the striking and

soul-subduing proof that God is for us. "He spared not his own Son,

but delivered him up for us all." He not merely _gave_ Him but

_bruised_ Him, and that for us. That spotless, holy, perfect One--the

only perfect Man that ever trod this earth--the One who ever did the

things which pleased His Father--whose whole life from the manger to

the tree was one continued sweet odor ascending to the throne and to

the heart of God--whose every movement, every word, every look, every

thought was well-pleasing to God--whose one grand object, from first

to last, was to glorify God and finish His work--this blessed One was

delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God--was

nailed to the cursed tree, and there endured the righteous wrath of a

sin-hating God; and all this because God was for us--even _us_.

What marvellous and matchless grace is here! The Just One bruised for

the unjust--the sinless, spotless, holy Jesus, bruised by the hand of

Infinite Justice in order that guilty rebels might be saved; and not

only saved but brought into the position and relationship of

sons--sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty--heirs of God and

joint-heirs with Christ.

This surely is grace--rich, free, sovereign grace--grace abounding to

the very chief of sinners--grace reigning, through righteousness, unto

eternal life, by Jesus Christ. Who would not trust this grace? Who can

look at the cross, and doubt that God is for the sinner--for any

sinner--for him--for the reader of these lines? Who would not confide

in that love that shines in the cross? Who can look at the cross and

not see that God willeth not the death of any sinner? Why did He not

allow us to perish in our guilt--to descend into that everlasting hell

which we so richly deserved because of our sins? Why give His

Only-begotten Son? Why bruise Him on that shameful cross? Why hide His

face from the only perfect Man that ever lived--that Man His own

Eternal Son? Why all this, reader? Surely it was because God is for

us, spite of all our guilt and sinful rebellion. Yes, blessed be His

Name, He is for the poor self-destroyed, hell-deserving sinner, be he

who or what he may; and each one whose eye scans these lines is now

entreated to come and confide in the love that gave Jesus from the

bosom and bruised Him on the cross.

Oh! beloved reader, do come, just now. Delay not! Waver not! Reason

not! Listen not to Satan! Listen not to the suggestions and imaginings

of your own heart; but listen to that word which assures you that God

is for you, and to that love which shines forth in the gift and the

death of His Son.

* * * * *

In pursuing what we may truly call the golden chain of evidence in

proof that God is for us, we have dwelt upon the two precious facts of

the gift and the death of His Son. We have traveled from the bosom to

the cross, along that mysterious and marvelous path which is marked by

the footprints of divine and everlasting love. We have seen the

blessed One not only giving His only begotten Son from His bosom, but

actually bruising Him for us--making His spotless soul an offering for

sin--bringing Him down into the dust of death--making Him to be sin

for us--judging Him in our stead--thus affording the most unanswerable

evidence of the fact that He is for us, that His heart is toward us,

that He earnestly desires our salvation, seeing that He hath not

withheld His Son, His only Son from us, but delivered Him up for us

all.

We shall now proceed to our third proof, which is furnished by

THE RAISING OF HIS SON.

And in speaking of the glorious fact of resurrection, we must confine

ourselves to the one point therein, namely, the proof which it

furnishes of God's being friendly to us. A passage or two of Scripture

will suffice to unfold and establish this special point.

In Romans iv., the inspired apostle introduces God to our hearts as

the One who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. He is speaking of

Abraham who, He tells us, "against hope believed in hope, that he

might become the father of many nations, according to that which was

spoken, So shall thy seed be. And being not weak in faith, he

considered not his own body now dead, when he was about an hundred

years old, neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb. He staggered not

at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith,

giving glory to God; and being fully persuaded that what He had

promised, He was able also to perform. And therefore it was imputed to

him for righteousness. Now it was not written for his sake alone that

it was imputed to him; but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed,

if we believe on Him that"--what? That gave His Son? Nay. That bruised

His Son upon the cross? Nay. What then? "That raised up Jesus our Lord

from the dead"--the very same "who was delivered for our offences, and

was raised again for our justification."

Anxious reader, weigh this great fact. What was it that brought the

precious Saviour to the cross? What brought Him down to the dust of

death? Was it not our offences? Truly so. "He was delivered for our

offences." He was nailed to the cursed tree for us. He represented us

on the cross. He was our Substitute, in all the full value and deep

significance of that word. He took our place and was treated, in every

respect, as we deserve to be treated. The hand of infinite justice

dealt with our sins--all our sins, at the cross. Jesus made Himself

responsible for all our offences, our iniquities, our transgressions,

our liabilities, all that was or ever could be against us; He--blessed

be His peerless and adorable name!--made Himself answerable for all,

and died in our stead, under the full weight of our sins. He died, the

just for the unjust.

Where is He now? The heart bounds with ineffable joy and holy triumph

at the thought of the answer. Where is the blessed One who hung on

yonder cross, and lay in yonder tomb? He is at the right hand of God,

crowned with glory and honor. Who set Him there? Who put the crown

upon His blessed brow? God Himself. The One who gave Him, and the One

who bruised Him is the One who raised Him, and it is in Him we are to

believe if we are to be counted righteous. This is the special point

before the apostle's mind. Righteousness shall be imputed to us if we

believe on God as the One who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.

Mark the vital link. Seize the all-important connection. The selfsame

One who hung upon the cross, charged with all our offences, is now on

the throne without them. How did He get there? Was it in virtue of His

eternal Godhead? No: for on that ground He was always there. He was

God over all blessed forever. Was it in virtue of His eternal

Sonship? Nay; for He was ever there on that ground also.[1] Therefore,

it could, in no wise, meet our need as guilty sinners, charged with

innumerable offences, to be told that the eternal Son of the Father

had taken His seat at the right hand of the majesty in the heavens,

inasmuch as that place ever belonged to Him--yea, the very deepest and

tenderest place in the bosom of the Father.

[1] We rejoice in every opportunity for the setting forth of Christ's

eternal Sonship. We hold it to be an integral and essentially

necessary part of the Christian faith.

But, further, we may inquire, was it as the spotless, sinless, perfect

Man that our adorable Lord took His seat on the throne? Nay; as such,

He could, at any moment, between the manger and the cross, have taken

His place there.

To what conclusion, then, are we absolutely shut up, in this matter?

To that most precious, that tranquilizing conclusion, that the

selfsame One who was delivered for our offences, bruised for our

iniquities, judged in our stead, is now in heaven; that the One who

represented us on the cross, is now on the throne; that the One who

stood charged with all our guilt, is now crowned with glory and honor;

that, so perfectly, so absolutely and completely, has He disposed of

the entire question of our sins, that infinite justice has raised Him

from the dead, and placed a diadem of glory upon His sacred brow.

Reader, dost thou understand this? Dost thou see its bearing upon

thyself? Dost thou believe in the One who raised up Jesus our Lord

from the dead? Dost thou see that, in so doing, He has declared

Himself friendly to thee? And dost thou believe that, in raising up

Jesus, He set forth His infinite satisfaction in the great work of

atonement, and furnished thee with a receipt in full for all thy

debts--a receipt for the "ten thousand talents."

Here lies the gist, marrow, and substance of this magnificent argument

of Romans iv. If the Man who was delivered for our offences is now in

heaven,--in heaven, too, by the hand and act of God Himself; then,

most surely, our offences are all gone, and we stand justified from

all things, as free from every charge of guilt, and every breath of

condemnation, as the blessed One Himself. It cannot possibly be

otherwise, if we believe on Him who raised up Jesus our Lord from the

dead. It is utterly impossible for a charge to be brought against the

believer in the God of resurrection, for the simplest of all reasons

that the One whom He raised was the One whom He bruised for the

believer's sins. Why did He raise Him? Because the sins for which He

bruised Him were all put away, and put away forever. The Lord Jesus,

_having undertaken our cause, and made Himself answerable for us in

every way_, could not be where He now is, if a single jot or tittle of

our guilt remained. But, on the other hand, being where He now is, and

being there by God's own act, it is impossible--utterly

impossible--for any question to be raised as to the full and complete

justification and perfect righteousness of the soul that believes in

Him. Thus, the moment that any one believes in God, in the special

character of the raiser of Jesus, he is counted perfectly righteous

before Him. This is most marvellous, but divinely and eternally true.

May the reader feel its power, sweetness, and tranquilizing virtue!

Yea, may the eternal Spirit give him the blessed sense of it, deep

down in his heart! Then, indeed shall he have perfect peace in his

soul; then, too, shall he understand how that, in raising, as well as

in bruising and giving His Son, God has declared and proved Himself to

be for us.

We had intended to bring under the special notice of the reader

Hebrews xiii. 20, but we must allow him to dwell upon that lovely

passage for himself, while we proceed to exhibit our fourth proof that

God is for us, which will be found in

THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY GHOST.

Here, too, we must confine ourselves to one point in that most

glorious event, and that is the form in which that august witness, the

eternal Spirit, descended.

Let the reader turn to the second chapter of the Acts. "And when the

day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one

place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing

mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And

there appeared unto them _cloven tongues_, like as of fire, and it sat

upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and

began to speak with _other tongues_, as the Spirit gave them

utterance. And there were dwelling at Jerusalem, Jews, devout men,

_out of every nation under heaven_. Now, when this was noised abroad,

the multitude came together, and were confounded, because that every

man heard them speak _in his own language_. And they were all amazed

and marveled, saying one to another, Behold, are not all these which

speak Galileans? And how hear we _every man in our own tongue wherein

we were born_? Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in

Mesopotamia, and in Judea, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia,

Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about

Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and

Arabians, we do hear them speak _in our tongues_, the wonderful works

of God."

Here then we mark one special fact--a fact of deepest interest--three

times referred to in the foregoing quotation. It is this, the Holy

Ghost came down to speak to every man "in his own dialect"--not the

dialect in which he was _educated_ merely, but "_in which he was

born_"--the very dialect in which his mother first whispered into his

infant ears, the sweet and tender accents of a mother's love. Such was

the medium, such the vehicle which the divine Messenger adopted for

the blessed purpose of making known to man that God was for us. He did

not speak to the Hebrew in Greek, or to the Greek in Latin. He spoke

to each one in the language which he understood, in the plain

vernacular--the mother tongue. If there was any peculiarity in that

mother tongue, any idiom, any provincialism in the dialect of each,

the blessed Spirit would make use of it for the purpose of reaching

the heart with the sweet story of grace.

Contrast with this the giving of the law from Mount Sinai. There

Jehovah confined Himself absolutely to one language. If persons had

been gathered there "from every nation under heaven," they would not

have understood a single syllable. The law--the ten words--the record

of _man's duty_ to God and to his neighbor was sedulously wrapped up

in one tongue. But when "_the wonderful works of God_" were to be

published--when the blessed story of love was to be told out--when the

heart of God towards poor guilty sinners was to be revealed, was one

language enough? No! "Every nation under heaven" must hear, and hear,

too, in their own mother tongue.

Reader, is not this a telling fact? It will perhaps be said that those

who heard Peter and the rest on the day of Pentecost, were Jews. Well,

that in no wise robs our fact of its charm, its sweetness, and its

power. Our fact is that when the eternal Spirit descended from heaven,

to tell of the resurrection of Christ, to tell of accomplished

redemption--to publish the glad tidings of salvation--to preach

repentance and remission of sins--He did not confine Himself to one

language, but spoke in every dialect under heaven!

And why? Because He desired to make man understand what He had to say

to him--He desired to reach his heart with the sweet tidings of

redeeming love--the soul-stirring message of full remission of sins.

When the law was to be given--when Jehovah had to speak to man about

his duty--when He had to address him in such terms as, "Thou shalt do

this, and thou shalt not do that," He confined Himself to one solitary

language. But when He would unfold the precious secret of His

love--when He would prove to man that He was for him, He, blessed

forever be His name, took care to speak in every language under

heaven, so that every man might hear, in his own dialect wherein he

was born, the wonderful works of God.[2]

[2] The reader will note with interest a fact alluded to elsewhere,

that in Genesis xi. divers tongues were given as a judgment upon man's

pride. In Acts ii. divers tongues were given in grace to meet man's

need. And in Revelation vii. the various tongues are all found united

in one song of praise to God and to the Lamb. Such are some of the

wonderful works of God. May we praise Him with all our ransomed

powers! May our hearts adore Him!

Thus, then, in our series of proofs--our golden chain of evidence, we

have traveled from the bosom of God to the cross of Christ, and from

that precious cross back to the throne--we have marked the giving, the

bruising, and the raising of the Son; we have seen the very heart of

God told out in deep and marvelous love, and tender compassion toward

guilty perishing sinners. Moreover, we have marked the descent of the

eternal Spirit, from the throne of God--His mission to this world to

announce to every creature under heaven the glad tidings of a full,

free, and everlasting salvation, through the blood of the Lamb, and to

announce these tidings not in an unknown tongue, but in the very

tongue wherein each was born.

What more remains? Is there yet another link to be added to the chain?

Yes; there is

THE POSSESSION OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.

It may perhaps be said that our fifth proof is involved in our fourth,

inasmuch as the fact of my possessing a copy of the Bible in my mother

tongue is, in reality, the Holy Ghost speaking to me in the language

in which I was born.

True; but still, so far as the reader is concerned, the fact that God

has put into his hand or within his reach the sacred volume--the

inestimable boon, the holy Scriptures--is an additional proof that He

is for him. For why were we not left in ignorance and total darkness?

Why was the divine book put into our hands? Why, each one may say, for

himself and herself, was I thus favored? Why was I not left to live

and die in heathen blindness? Why was the heavenly lamp allowed to

cast its precious beams on me--even me?

Ah! beloved reader, the answer is, "Because God is for thee." Yes, for

thee, notwithstanding all thy many sins--for thee, spite of all thy

forgetfulness, ingratitude and rebellion--for thee, although as thou

very well knowest, thou canst not shew a single reason why He should

not be against thee. He gave His Son from His bosom, bruised Him on

the cross, raised Him from the dead, sent down the Holy Ghost, put

into your very hands His blessed book, all to shew you that He is for

you, that His heart is toward you, that He earnestly desires your

salvation.

And mark, we pray thee, thou canst not say, nor wilt thou ever dare to

say, "I could not understand the Bible; it was beyond me; it was full

of abstruse mysteries which I could not fathom; of difficulties which

I could not solve; of discrepancies which I could not reconcile. And

when I turned to those who professed to be Christians, I found them

split up into almost innumerable sects, and divided into almost

endless schools of doctrine. And, not only so, but I saw such utter

hollowness, such gross inconsistency, such flagrant contradiction

between profession and practice, that I was forced to abandon the

whole subject of religion with a mingled feeling of perplexity,

contempt, and disgust."

These objections will not stand in the judgment, nor keep thee out of

the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone. Remember this. Yes,

ponder it deeply. Let not the devil, let not thine own heart deceive

thee. What does Abraham say to the rich man, in Luke xvi.? "They have

Moses and the prophets, _let them hear them_." Why does the rich man

not reply, "They cannot understand them?" He dare not.

No, reader; a child can understand the holy Scriptures, which are able

to make us wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.

There is not one beneath the canopy of God's heaven, who possesses a

copy of the holy Scriptures, who is not solemnly responsible before

God for the use he makes of them. If professing Christians were split

up into ten thousand times as many sects as they are; if they were ten

thousand times as inconsistent as they are; if schools and doctors of

divinity were ten thousand times more conflicting than they are--still

the word to each possessor of the Bible is, "You have Moses and the

prophets, and the New Testament, hear them."

Oh! that we could persuade the unconverted, the unawakened, the

unbelieving reader to think of these things, to think of them now, to

ponder them, in the very hidden depths of his moral being, to give

them his heart's undivided attention, ere it be too late. We

contemplate, with ever-deepening horror, the condition of a lost soul

in hell--of one opening his eyes, in that place of endless torment, to

the tremendous fact that God is against him and against him forever;

that all hope is gone; that nothing can ever bridge the chasm that

separates the region of the lost from the heaven of the redeemed; that

"there is a great gulf _fixed_."

We cannot proceed. The thought is really overpowering. The heart is

crushed by the appalling contemplation. Dear, dear reader, do let us

entreat of thee, ere we lay down the pen, to turn, this very hour, to

a dear loving Saviour who stands with open arms and open bosom to

receive all who come to Him, and who assures thee that "him that

cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out." Do come and trust in God's

faithful word and Christ's finished work.

Here lies the precious secret of the whole matter. Look away from

self, look straight to Jesus, confide simply in Him, and in what He

has done for thee on the cross, and all thy sins shall be blotted out,

divine righteousness shall be thine, eternal life, sonship, an

indwelling Spirit, an all-prevailing Advocate, a bright home in the

heavens, a portion in Christ's eternal glory--yes, reader, if thou

wilt but believe in Jesus all shall be thine--Himself the best of all.

May the Holy Ghost lead thee, this moment, to the feet of Jesus, and

enable thee to cry out, in holy triumph, "If God be for us, who can be

against us?" God grant it for Jesus Christ's sake!

C. H. M.

"WHO LOVED ME"

=Galatians ii. 20.=

Three little sunbeams, gilding all I see.

Three little chords, each full of melody.

Three little leaves, balm for my agony.

="WHO"=

_He_ loved me, the Father's only Son.

He gave Himself, the precious, spotless One.

He shed His blood, and thus the work was done.

="LOVED"=

He _loved_--not merely pitied. Here I rest.

Sorrow may come, I to His heart am pressed.

What should I fear while sheltered in His breast?

="ME"=

Wonder of wonders, Jesus loved _me_;

A wretch--lost--ruined--sunk in misery.

He sought me, found me, raised me, set me free.

My soul the order of the words approve:

_Christ first, me last, nothing between_ but LOVE.

Lord keep _me_ always _down, Thyself above_.

Trusting to Thee, not struggling restlessly,

So shall I gain the victory.

"I--yet not _I_, but Christ, who loved me."

H. W.

THE CALL OF GOD

GEN CHAPTER XII

In a day of such widely extended profession as the present, it is

specially important that Christians should be deeply impressed with

the necessity of realizing _personally the call of God_, without which

there can be no permanency or steadiness in the Christian course.

It is a comparatively easy thing to make a profession at a time when

profession prevails; but it is never easy to walk by faith--it is

never easy to give up present things, in the hope of "good things to

come." Nothing but that mighty principle which the apostle denominates

"_the substance_ of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen"

(Heb. xi. 1), can ever enable a man to persevere in a course which in

a world where all is wrong--all out of order, must be thorny and

difficult. We must feel "_persuaded_" of something yet to

come--something worth waiting for--something that will reward all the

toil of a pilgrim's protracted course, ere we rise up out of the

circumstances of nature and the world, to "run with patience the race

that is set before us." (Heb. xii. 1.)

All this is fully exemplified in Abraham, and the exemplification

receives additional force from the contrast exhibited in the character

of Lot and others who are introduced in the course of the narrative.

In the seventh of Acts, we have the following words which bear

directly upon the subject before us. "The God of glory appeared unto

our father Abraham, when he was in Mesopotamia, before he dwelt in

Charran, and said unto him, Get thee out of thy country and from thy

kindred, and come into the land that _I shall show thee_." (Vers. 1,

2.) Here then we are presented with the first dawning of that light

which attracted Abraham out of the darkness of "Ur, of the Chaldees,"

and which shining in upon his wearisome path, from time to time, gave

fresh vigor to his soul, as he journeyed in quest of "that city which

hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." "The God of glory"

caused Abraham to see, in the light of His character, the true

condition of things in Ur, and further, to believe, as some one has

observed, _a report concerning future glory and inheritance_, and he

therefore hesitates not, but instantly girds himself up for the

journey.

However, upon a close comparison of the opening of the seventh of

Acts, with the first verse of this twelfth chapter of Genesis, we get

an important principle. From the time that God appeared unto Abraham,

until he finally gets up into the land of Canaan, an event occurs

involving much deep instruction to us. I allude to the death of

Abraham's father, as we read in Acts vii. "From thence, _when his

father_ was dead, He removed him into this land wherein ye now dwell."

(Ver. 4.) This will enable us to understand the force of the

expression in Gen. xii., "The Lord _had_ said unto Abram," etc. (Ver.

1.) From both these passages, it would plainly appear the movement

made by Terah and his family, recorded in Gen. x. 31, was the result

of a revelation made by "the God of glory" to Abram, but it would not

appear that _Terah_ had received any such revelation from God. He is

presented to us rather as a hindrance to Abram than any thing else,

for until he died, Abram did not come into the land of Canaan--his

divinely appointed destination.

Now, this circumstance, trivial as it may seem to a cursory reader,

confirms in the strongest manner the statement already advanced,

namely, that unless the call of God--the revelation from "the God of

glory" be _personally realized_, there can be no permanency or

steadiness in the Christian course. Had Terah realized that call, he

would neither have been a clog to Abram in his path of faith, nor yet

would he have dropped off, like a mere child of nature, ere reaching

the future land of promise. We get the same principle illustrated in

Laban afterward in Gen. xxiv. Laban, as some one has well observed,

was fully alive to the value of the gold and silver jewels which the

servant of Abraham had brought with him, but he had no heart to value

_the report_ concerning future things, which dropped from his lips. In

other words, he did not receive a revelation from "the God of glory,"

and as a consequence, he remained, as the same writer has observed,

"_a thorough man of the world_."

In the conversion of Saul of Tarsus, we are taught the same truth.

There were other persons with him when he was struck to the ground by

the lustre of the glory of the Lord Jesus; these persons "saw indeed

the light"--they witnessed many of the external circumstances which

had arrested the furious zealot; but as he himself states, "_they

heard not the voice of Him that spake_ TO ME." (Acts xxii. 9.) Here is

the grand point. The voice must speak "_to me_"--"the God of glory"

must appear "to me," ere I can take the place of a pilgrim and

stranger in the world, and perseveringly, "run the race that is set

before me." It is not _national faith_, nor _family faith_, but

_personal faith_ that will constitute us real witnesses for God in the

world.

But when Abram was released from the clog which he had experienced in

the person of his father, he was enabled to enter with vigor and

decision upon the path of faith--a path which "flesh and blood" can

never tread--a thorny path beset with difficulties from first to last,

in which God alone can sustain the soul. "And Abram passed through the

land unto the place of Sichem, unto the plain of Moreh. _And the

Canaanite was then in the land._ And the Lord appeared unto Abram, and

said, Unto thy seed will I give this land: _and there builded he an

altar unto the Lord who appeared unto him_." (Gen. xii. 6, 7.) Here

Abram at once takes his stand as _a worshiper_, in the face of "the

Canaanite." The altar marks him as one who, having been delivered from

the idols of Ur of the Chaldees, had been taught to bow before the

altar of the one true God, "who made heaven and earth." In the

following verse, we get the second grand feature in the character of

the man of faith, namely, "_the tent_," denoting strangership in the

world. "By faith he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a

_strange_ _country, dwelling in tabernacles_ with Isaac and Jacob,

_the heirs_ with him of the same _promise_." (Heb. xi. 9.)

We shall have occasion to notice more fully, as we proceed, these two

important points in the life of Abraham, and shall therefore rest

satisfied for the present with establishing the fact that the tent and

the altar do most clearly present him to us as a _stranger_ and a

_worshiper_, and that as such, he was a man entirely separated from

the course of this evil world.

Scarcely had Abram entered upon his course, when he had to encounter

one of those difficulties which have a special tendency to test the

genuineness of faith, both as to its quality and its object. "And

there was a famine in the land." The difficulty meets him in the very

place into which the Lord had called him. Now, it is no easy matter

when we perceive trial and sorrow, privation and difficulty awaiting

us, while walking in "the strait and narrow way," still to

persevere--still to pursue the onward path, and especially if we

observe within our reach, as Abram did, an entire exemption from the

particular trial under which we may be smarting. The men of this world

"are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued as other

men." This feeling is still further increased by the entire absence of

every thing, as far as sight is concerned, which could act as a

confirmation of our hope. Abram had not so much as to set his foot

upon--famine was raging around him on every side, _save in Egypt_.

Could he only find himself _there_, he would be able to live in ease

and abundance.

Here, however, the man of faith must pursue the path of simple

obedience. God had said, "Get thee out of thy country ... unto a land

that I will show thee." Abram may, it is true, afterward discover that

obedience to this command will involve his abiding in a land where

nothing but starvation, apparently, awaits him. But even though it

should be so, God had not in any way qualified the command. No, the

word was simple and definite: "Into a land that _I_ will show thee."

This should have been as true and as binding upon Abram when famine

reigned around him, as when peace and abundance prevailed. Famine

should not, therefore, have induced him to leave the land, neither

should abundance have induced him to remain. The influential words

were, "I will show thee."

But Abram leaves this land--he succumbs, for the moment, to the heavy

trial, and bends his footsteps down to Egypt, leaving behind him his

tent and altar. There he obtained ease and luxury; he escaped, no

doubt, the formidable trial under which he had suffered in the land of

promise; but he lost, for the time being, his worship and

strangership,--things which should ever be dearest to the heart of a

pilgrim.

There is nothing in Egypt for Abram to feed upon as a spiritual man;

it might, and doubtless did, afford abundance for him as a natural

man, but that was all. Egypt would give nothing to Abram unless he

sacrificed his character both as a stranger and as a worshiper of God.

It is needless to observe that it is exactly so at this very hour.

There is plenty in the world upon which our old nature could feed most

luxuriously. There are the rich delights "of the flesh and of the

mind," and abundant means of gratifying the desires of the heart, but

what of all these, if the enjoyment thereof leads, as it must

necessarily do, right out of the path of faith--the path of simple

obedience.

Here then is the question for the Christian: which shall I have, the

gold and silver, the flocks and herds--the present ease and affluence

of Egypt, or the tent and altar of "the land of promise"? Which shall

I have: the carnal ease and delight of the world, or a peaceful holy

walk with God _here_, and eternal blessedness and glory hereafter? We

cannot have both, for, "if _any man_ love the world, the love of the

Father is not in him."

But, we may ask, why was it that Abram had to experience famine and

trial in the land of promise? Why did he not find a home and plenty

there? Simply because "the Canaanite and Perizzite dwelt then in the

land." (Chap. xiii. 7.) The land had not as yet been fitted up to be

the residence of God's redeemed ones. Abram's faith might have enabled

him to penetrate through the long and dreary period which should

intervene ere the promise could be consummated; but that very

principle of faith it was that made him "a pilgrim and a stranger." He

could wait for God's time, and until then remain without "so much as

to set his foot on." (Acts vii. 5.) So should it be now.

CHAPTER XIII.

This beautiful chapter shows us the man of faith recovering himself,

through the faithfulness and loving-kindness of God, who never allows

such to wander far, or tarry long away. The gold and silver, the

flocks and herds of Egypt, could not long prove a satisfying portion

for Abram, while deprived of his tent and his altar, and he therefore

once more, in the renewed energy of faith rises, as it were, from the

dust of Egypt, and retraces his steps to the land of promise. Happy

recovery! Certain evidence of a fixed and honest purpose to serve the

Lord. "The ship may be tossed by the waves and the winds, but _the

magnet still points to the north_."

But some expressions in the opening of this chapter confirm most fully

a thought already expressed, namely, that Abram gained nothing, "as

before God," by his visit to Egypt. Thus, for example, "Abram went on

his journeys ... unto the place where his tent had been _at the

beginning_, unto the place of the altar which he had made there _at

the first_." (Vers. 3, 4.) The words "beginning," and "at the first,"

prove that Abram had made no progress while in Egypt, but that, while

there, all his time was, as it were, lost. No doubt he learnt a

wholesome lesson, and it is well when by our failures we learn to

distrust our own hearts, and dread the pernicious influence of the

world. Abram learnt that there could be no tent or altar in Egypt. It

is only faith that can enable a man to raise an altar or erect a tent,

but in Egypt all is sight and not faith, and hence, the moment Abram

set his foot there he ceased to show forth the genuine fruits of

faith--yea, the very principle which led him to leave the land of

promise, led him, at the same time, to relinquish his character as a

stranger and a worshiper.

How forcibly are we here reminded of a proposal made long after this,

by a king of Egypt, to Abraham's seed. "And Pharaoh called for Moses

and Aaron, and said: Go ye, sacrifice to your God in the land." (Ex.

viii. 25.) Thus, it would seem ever to have been the design of the

enemy to get the people of God, the holy seed, to defile themselves by

worshiping or sacrificing to God, _in the world_; i. e., to make their

character, as worshipers of God, accord with that of men of the

world--men holding a place in society where Christ is an outcast;

thus, of course, declaring that there is no difference between the

religion of the world and the religion of God--a truly fearful

delusion, calculated to lead many souls out of the way of truth and

holiness.

It is most sad to hear, at times, those who surely ought to know

better, in order, as they say, to manifest a _liberal spirit_,

speaking of the religion of the world in all its multiplied forms, as

if it were all right; or, as if it were a matter of total indifference

whether we remained in communion with error or not. Oh, let us not be

deceived! God's principle of separation is as strong and as binding

to-day as it was in the days of Abram or Moses. "Come out from among

them, and be ye separate, and touch not the unclean thing," must hold

good as long as the "unclean thing" exists; nor can any outward form

alter the character--the true essential character of "the unclean

thing" so as to make it "a clean thing."

Moses, then, was not liberal, in the above acceptation of the word,

for he at once refused to countenance the religion of the world. "It

is not meet so to do." Memorable words! Would that there were more

amongst us who, when invited to countenance the religion of the world,

would reply, "It is not meet so to do." Abram could not worship in

Egypt, neither could his seed.

But Abram had more difficulties than one to encounter in his course.

The path which every man of faith is called to tread lies between two

dangerous extremes. One is the temptation to return to the world; the

other, to strive with brethren by the way. Abram had just recovered

himself from the effects of the former, and we have now to behold him

buffeting the latter.

The moment Abram emerged from Egypt, he appeared in a special manner

to move under a new responsibility, namely, responsibility to his

brother to walk with him in harmony. While in Egypt, this

responsibility stood quite in the shade. The institutions--laws--

habits--luxury and ease of Egypt, would in an eminent degree tend to

do away with every such feeling. All these things would have had the

effect of erecting barriers around each individual tending to prevent

him from recognizing the fact that he was his "brother's keeper." Nor

is it otherwise now. So long as we continue in the world--the

religious world, as it is termed--we shall find ourselves completely

relieved from the difficult task of being our "brother's keeper."

Those who advocate a continuance therein may deny this fact, but it is

all in vain, for Scripture and experience alike demonstrate it. Abram

and Lot _did not strive in Egypt_, and a religious establishment

presents this attraction at least--and it is by no means a feeble

one--it effectually prevents _brotherly collision_; and, of course,

where there is no collision there can be no strife--no dispute; where

collision takes place, there must be either grace to enable us to walk

in unity of mind, or strife and contention. But Egypt saps the very

springs of grace by leading us out of a place of simple dependence

upon the Lord, (for dependence ever genders grace and forbearance) and

because she does so, she, at the same time, teaches us, or attempts at

least to teach us, that we do not need grace, by leading us into a

sphere in which responsibility to brethren is never realized, thus the

need is not felt; weakness is mistaken for strength, folly for wisdom.

When the Christian at first starts on his course, he fondly dreams of

nothing but perfection in his fellow Christians; but in this he soon

finds himself mistaken, for we have all our infirmities, and as the

apostle states, "In many things we offend all." But why, we may ask,

was there such a speedy development of infirmity upon their coming up

out of Egypt? Because they were now called to walk in the power of a

naked principle, without any of the props or barriers of Egypt. They

were called to walk by faith, and "faith worketh by love."

Now "the Canaanite," etc., "was then in the land." This should have

acted as a hindrance to any strife between "_brethren_," for the

Canaanite cannot understand anything about the infirmities of

believers, and he therefore puts all their failure down to some defect

in the principle professed.

But in every strife between brethren, there must be fault somewhere.

In the contention between Paul and Barnabas there was fault somewhere.

Nor can we be at any loss to decide where it lay. Barnabas wished to

take _his relative_ with him, but this relative had before proved

himself unfit, or at least unwilling, to "endure hardness," therefore

it could not have been with a single eye to the Lord's work that

Barnabas desired his company. The Lord Himself, too, at once takes

Paul's side of the question by providing him with a dear son and

fellow-laborer, in the person of Timothy, with whom he had "none

like-minded."

So it is exactly in the case before us. We can have no hesitation in

asserting that Lot was the man in error here. Lot does not appear to

have fully got rid of the spirit of the world, and where there is this

spirit predominating in any one he will ever find the path of faith

too strait for him to walk in, and so it was, "They could not dwell

together."

If, then, it be asked on what grounds one would pronounce Lot to have

been in the wrong? The answer is, first, Lot's subsequent conduct;

and, second, the Lord's dealings with Abram, "after that Lot was

separated from him."

What then did Lot do? "_He lifted up his eyes._" This is ever our mode

of acting when not under the direct power of faith. Whenever we lift

up our eyes without divine direction, we are sure to go wrong. I say,

without divine direction, for we find the Lord afterwards directing

Abram to lift up his eyes, but then that was totally different from

Lot's act, which was simply the suggestion of mere human wisdom and

foresight. Human wisdom and foresight, however, can never assist our

progress as men of faith--no, quite the reverse; human wisdom will

ever suggest things which, if acted upon, will lead us right athwart

the path of a man of faith. Therefore Lot, in lifting up his eyes,

could not penetrate beyond the "things that are seen and temporal."

Such was the utmost bound of his range of vision. The things on which

his eyes rested were those with which he had been conversant while in

Egypt, as we read, "He beheld all the plain of Jordan that it was well

watered every where ... _like the land of Egypt_." (10.) Here we

observe that Lot had never been really detached in heart and affection

from Egypt--he had never learnt the vanity and unsatisfactoriness of

all her resources in the light of a better order of things--he had

never contrasted her with that "_city which hath foundations_, whose

builder and maker is God"--in a word, he "having put his hand to the

plow," was now beginning "to look back," and thus to prove himself

"unfit for the kingdom of heaven."

There is a striking notice of all this afforded in the opening verse

of this chapter, "Abram went up out of Egypt and _Lot with him_." Here

we get the secret of Lot's after instability. He appears to have gone

up rather _with Abram_ than _with God_, and the consequence was that,

when he parted with Abram, he had nothing to lean upon. He had been

hitherto moving under Abram's protection and guidance instead of being

directly before the Lord, and therefore when he lost Abram he went

astray.

Now then is the moment for Abram to "lift up his eyes," at the Lord's

command, and oh, what a different range of vision was his! While Lot

could not penetrate beyond the narrow limits of the present scene,

Abram was enabled to survey the length and breadth of God's

inheritance. He soars on the strong and rapid pinion of faith, and is,

as it were, lost in the unbounded beneficence of God; while Lot, the

man walking by sight, is well-nigh lost in the deep gulf of Sodom's

corruption.

Let us then, ere we enter upon the next chapter, take a view of the

different circumstances of these two men who had started together.

"Lot lifted up his eyes," and the prospect on which they rested was,

as might be expected, such as suited his natural desires,

"well-watered plains," which, however fair in man's view, were

nevertheless, in the sight of the Lord, filled with exceeding

wickedness. (Comp. vers. 10 and 14.) Abram, on the contrary, had

allowed his eye to wander over the length and breadth of the

_promised_ inheritance--uninfluenced by all else, he viewed the

portion which God was _reserving_ for him and his seed, and took up

his position accordingly.

Thus do we find Lot in the unhallowed region of Sodom; and Abram--the

pilgrim and stranger, with his tent and altar--"in the plain of Mamre,

which is in Hebron."

CHAPTER XIV.

Here we have a very minute account of a battle fought by "four kings

with five," and we may ask, What connection had this strife between

"the potsherds of the earth," with the history of the people of God?

With Abram indeed none, in one sense, for _he_ was outside it all.

_His tent_ marked him as a stranger to all these things--it marked him

as one to whom the battle of "four kings with five" would be a matter

of very trivial moment. And then his altar marked him as one whose

pursuits were quite of another character, even a heavenly. His tent

showed him to be a stranger on earth--his altar showed him to be at

home in heaven. Happy man! Happy pilgrim! who could thus from his high

elevation, even the lofty watch-tower of faith, look down, as a

passer-by, upon the battle fields of an evil world. It mattered not to

Abram whether the laurel of victory were about to wreath the brow of

the king of Sodom, or of Chedorlaomer, king of Elam; his portion was

not in danger through their strife, because he had it in that place

"where thieves _do not_ break through and steal."

But, though it was the happy lot of Abram to have his being and his

portion in a place where wars could have no influence, yet such was

not the case with his more worldly-minded brother. His position was

such as to place him in the midst of the strife, and consequently the

issue of this battle could not fail to be of the deepest moment to

him. If the child of God will stoop so low as to mix himself up with

the world, he must calculate upon being made a participator in its

convulsions, and woe be to that man who shall have his portion in the

world in that day (now fast approaching) when all things shall be

shaken by the mighty hand of God in judgment.

I would here observe that what has ever made the history of nations

and the movements of mighty kings and conquerors, matters of interest

to the Holy Spirit, has been the connection of such things with the

history of the people of God. Beyond this they possessed nothing of

moment to Him. He could find no pleasure in dwelling upon the abstract

history of man. The busy strife and tumult of nations--the fierce

contests of ungodly tyrants grasping after power--the movements of

armies, could not attract the notice of the Spirit of peace;

nevertheless, when such things became, in the least degree, connected

with the history of a "righteous soul," the Holy Ghost can be most

minute in detailing the circumstances of a battle, as is observable in

the case under consideration.

What then were the results of this contest to Lot? Ruin to him and his

family. He was made prisoner and all his goods were taken. (Ver. 12.)

He had laid up treasure for himself upon earth, and the thieves had

broken through; and thus, while Abram was above it all, in the

power--the separating power of communion with God, _he_ found himself

a prisoner and a beggar. He had sown to the flesh, and of the flesh he

must now "reap corruption."

But this was just the moment for Abram to show himself in the powerful

activities of love. He had, as above observed, hitherto surveyed with

calm indifference these movements of "kings and their armies," but the

very same faith which had made him indifferent about the strifes of

men, made him quick to take cognizance of a _brother_ in distress.

Faith not only purifies the heart from worldly and carnal desires, but

it also "works by love," as is powerfully shown in Abram's case, for

"when Abram saw that _his brother_ was taken captive he armed his

trained servants," etc. (Ver. 14.)

Now, it is to be observed that it is in the hour of distress and

difficulty that the relationship _of brother_ gets the prominent

place. In days of unruffled peace, Lot might be known to Abram as "his

brother's son," but now he was in sorrow, and therefore the claims of

brotherhood act, and act powerfully and effectually.

We are now called to witness a deeply interesting scene. Abram himself

is about to meet a temptation--a temptation at once repulsed indeed by

the power of God in him, but nevertheless, a temptation. The king of

Sodom was about to come forth to display his treasures before the eye

of Abram, and he had by nature a heart to value those treasures.

That man knows not his own heart who could say that the world does not

present many--very many attractions to the natural heart. There is a

species of misanthropy which looks like elevation above the world, but

which, after all, is not it. The Cynic philosopher Diogenes, when he

told Alexander to get out of his sunshine, was as proud and as worldly

a man as Alexander himself. The only true and real way in which to be

separated from, and elevated above, the world, is by the knowledge of

heavenly things, and Abram was led, through the mercy of God, into

that knowledge.

But the victory obtained by Abram, was not owing to any power in

himself. He had, as I have observed, a heart to value the things which

the enemy had to give him; and, therefore, if he triumphed, it was

through the operation of a power outside himself. In all this

transaction, the One who had watched over His dear servant during the

dark season of his sojourn in Egypt, and who, moreover, had, by that

very sojourn, taught him a lesson as to the true character of the

world, was now closely observing his ways, and making preparations for

his relief; He was cognizant of the movements and designs of the

enemy, from first to last, and He therefore prepares to supply a

heavenly antidote to nullify his poison.

It is particularly worthy of observation that between the time at

which the king of Sodom went forth to meet Abram, and that wherein he

made the proposal to him with reference to "the persons and the

goods," there is a remarkable character introduced, namely,

Melchizedek. This stranger, commissioned by God, was on his way to

fortify Abram's heart at the very moment when the enemy was on his way

to attack (Comp. ver. 17, 18, and 21). Now, why did not, "the priest

of the Most High God" come to meet Abram before? Because this was the

very moment in which Abram most needed the strength which he had to

bring. The enemy was about to display his gilded bait before the eye

of the man of God, and therefore is Melchizedek at hand to display in

his view the divine realities of the kingdom. He was about to feed and

strengthen his soul with the "bread," and cheer him with the "wine,"

of the kingdom, in order that, "in the strength of that meat" he might

mount above the influence of all the allurements of the world. From

all this we may learn that it is communion with the joys and glories

of the kingdom that can alone cause the heart to reject the pollutions

of the world.

Reader, upon what are _you_ now feeding? What constitutes your

habitual food? Is it "the bread and wine" which the Lord provides, or

"the goods" of Sodom? Are your ears open to the pernicious suggestions

of the _King of Sodom_, or to the heavenly communications of the _King

of Salem_? The Lord grant that our hearts may ever choose that in

which He delights.

But to proceed, Melchizedek leads Abram's soul into present communion

with "THE MOST HIGH GOD, THE POSSESSOR OF HEAVEN AND EARTH," and thus

completes the wondrous contrast between "the King of Sodom" and "the

Most High God, possessor of heaven and earth,"--"the goods of Sodom"

and the extensive possessions of heaven and earth. Blessed contrast,

which faith ever draws! It is needless to say that Abram at once

rejects the offer of the King of Sodom. The bread and wine, and the

benediction of "the priest of the Most High God," had raised Abram to

such a height that he could, in one comprehensive glance, take in the

vast possessions of heaven and earth, and further, look down from

thence upon the despicable proposal of the King of Sodom and reject

it. Melchizedek had just said, "the Most High God, the possessor of

heaven and earth," and Abram had laid hold on these words and made use

of them in his reply to the adversary. "I have lifted up my hand,"

said he, "to the Lord, the Most High God, the possessor of heaven and

earth, that I will not take from a thread even to a shoe-latchet, and

that I will not take anything that is thine, lest thou shouldest say,

I have made Abram rich" (vers. 22, 23).

Abram appears to breathe the very atmosphere of the presence of Him,

"who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand, and meted out

heaven with a span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a

measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a

balance, in whose sight the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and are

counted as the small dust of the balance. Behold! he taketh up the

isles as a very little thing, and Lebanon is not sufficient to burn,

nor the beasts thereof sufficient for a burnt-offering. All nations

before Him are as nothing, and they are counted to Him as less than

nothing and vanity." (Isa. xl. 12, 15-18.)

And surely, we may say, it was only thus that Abram could triumph; and

let no one who moves not, in some measure, in the same sphere, affect

to despise the world--nothing can be more truly vain. There must be

the experimental acquaintance with _the_ better thing--the fondly

cherished hope of "_good things to come_"--ere we can obtain full

victory over present things, and our own worldly desires. "Ye took

joyfully the spoiling of your goods, _knowing in yourselves_ that ye

have in _heaven a better and an enduring substance_" (Heb. x. 34). If

we are really waiting for the manifestation of the glory, we shall be

found standing apart from everything which will be judged in that day:

and it is written, "Yet once more, I shake not the earth only but also

heaven; and this word, yet once more, signifieth the removing of those

things that are shaken, as of things that are made, that those things

which cannot be shaken may remain" (Heb. xii. 26, 27).

We have, in the last verse of our truly interesting chapter, a happy

feature in the character of the true man of faith. Abram would not

force others to walk according to his elevated standard. Although _he_

might be able to reject, in the most unreserved manner, the offers of

the king of Sodom, yet _others_ might not be able to do so, and

therefore he says, with regard to "Aner, Eshcol, and Mamre, _let them_

take _their portion_." Our walk should ever be "according as God hath

dealt to every man the measure of faith" (Rom. xii. 3). We have seen,

in our own day, many persons led, at the outset, to give up a variety

of worldly things, and afterwards plunge still deeper into those

things; and why? Because they acted through mere excitement or human

influence, and were not able to say with Abram, "_I have lift up my

hand unto the Lord_."

CHAPTER XV.

In the opening verse of this chapter, we have a principle fraught with

comfort and encouragement to us--a principle eminently calculated to

call out into full exercise a spirit of true devotedness to the Lord.

We observe here, the Lord's grace in acknowledging and accepting the

sacrifice laid upon His altar--the willing offering of the devoted

heart of His servant. Our God is never slow in owning such things, nor

in rewarding them a hundredfold. Abram had just been manifesting a

spirit of self-denial in refusing the attractive offers of the King

of Sodom. He had refused to be enriched from such a source, and had

taken "the Most High God" for his portion and his reward, therefore

the Lord comes forth to confirm the soul of his servant with these

words, "Fear not, Abram, I AM thy shield, and thy exceeding great

reward." "God is not unrighteous to forget the work and labor of love"

(Heb. vi. 10). A similar principle is presented to us in chapter xiii.

where Abram is seen giving way to Lot, in the matter of choosing the

land. Abram's whole anxiety in that matter was about the Lord's honor,

as maintained in the harmonious walk of "_brethren_" before the

"Canaanite and the Perizzite." "Let there be no strife," says he,

"between me and thee ... _for we be brethren_." Nor did Abram desire

to suppress the strife, by _exacting concessions_ from Lot. No; he was

willing to concede everything himself--to surrender every claim--to

sacrifice every advantage, provided the strife were suppressed. "Is

not the _whole land_ before thee?" _Take_ what you please--possess

yourself of the fairest spot in all the region round about. Here, as

some one has observed, is the liberality--the unselfishness of faith.

What was land to Abram in comparison with the Lord's glory? Nothing.

He could give up anything, or everything, for that. How then does the

Lord meet this self-sacrifice on the part of His servant? Just as He

does in this xv. chapter, by coming in, in the plenitude of His

goodness, to make it up to him a hundredfold. "Lift up _now_ thine

eyes ... for _all the land which thou seest_ to thee will I give it,

and to thy seed after thee" (xiii. 14, 15). How truly gracious it is

of the Lord to enable His servant to make a sacrifice for Him, and

then reward that sacrifice by a vast increase of blessing. Such are

His ways--His ever adorable ways.

We are now called to trace in Abram the development of a feature

which, in a special manner, demonstrates the high order of his

communion with God. After all God's revelations and promises to him,

his soul still breathes after an object without which all besides was

defective. True, he had surveyed, with the eye of faith, the promised

inheritance--the magnificent gift of divine benevolence; yet,

notwithstanding all this, was there a great desideratum--a mighty

blank. He sighed for a SON. A son _alone_ could render complete, in

Abram's estimation, all his previous privileges. "And Abram said, Lord

God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and _the steward

of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus_. And Abram said, Behold to me

thou hast given no seed: and lo, _one born in my house_ is mine heir"

(vers. 2, 3). Now, we have, in tracing the path of this remarkable

man, beheld him, at times, displaying some very noble features of

character. His generosity--his high elevation of mind--his

pilgrim-like habits--all these things denote a man of the very highest

order; yet I hesitate not to say, that we find him, in the passage

just quoted, exhibiting a temper of soul, more in harmony with the

mind of heaven than anything we have met hitherto. Abram desired to

have his house enlivened by the cry of a child. He had been long

enough conversant with the spirit of bondage breathed by "the steward

of his house," but the titles of _lord_ and _master_, though all very

good in their place, could not satisfy the heart of Abram, for Abram

had been taught of God, and God ever instructs His children in those

things which He loves, and which He exhibits in His dealings with

them. And I would just observe, in connection with this, that we see

in the case of the prodigal in Luke xv., the development of a

principle very much in connection with what we have been saying. He

says, in the very midst of all his misery "I will arise and go unto my

Father, and will say unto him, _Father_." Here we have a fine feature

in the character of this poor wanderer. He had such a sense of the

grace of him against whom he had sinned, that he could yet say

"_Father_" notwithstanding his long course of rebellion and folly.

But let us observe with what accuracy Abram lays hold of the great

principle afterwards brought out by the Spirit in Romans viii. "_If

children, then heirs._" Abram felt that sonship and heirship were

inseparably connected, so much so, that without the former the latter

could not be. This is the meaning of his question, "Lord God, what

wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and the steward of my house

is this Eliezer of Damascus?" Abram rightly judged that to have "_no

seed_" was to have _no inheritance_, for the word is, not if _stewards

or servants_, then heirs, but "if _children_, then heirs" (Rom. viii.

17).

How very important it is that we should ever bear in mind, that all

our present privileges and future prospects stand connected with our

character as "_sons_." It may be all well and very valuable, in its

right place, to realize our responsibility to act as "faithful and

wise stewards," in the absence of our Master; still the most ample

privileges--the highest enjoyments--the brightest glories, which

belong to us through the grace and mercy of our God, stand intimately

connected with our character and place as "_sons_." (Comp. John i. 12;

Rom. viii. 14, 19; 1 John iii. 1, 2; Eph. i. 5; v. 1; Heb. xii. 5.)

In the vision presented to us in the close of our chapter, and which

was granted to Abram as an answer to his question, "Lord God, whereby

shall I know that I shall inherit it?" we have a further illustration

of the teaching of Romans viii. Abram is taught by the vision, that

the _inheritance_ was only to be reached through _suffering_--that

_the heirs_ must pass through _the furnace_, previous to their

entering upon the enjoyment of that which God was reserving for them;

and I doubt not that, were we more deeply and experimentally taught in

the divine life, we should more fully apprehend the moral fitness of

such training. Suffering then, is not connected, in this chapter, with

_sonship_, but with _heirship_; and so we are taught in Romans viii.

"If children, then heirs, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ,

if so be that _we suffer_ with Him, that we may be also _glorified_

together." Again, we must, "through much _tribulation_, enter into the

kingdom of God" (Acts xiv. 22). The Lord Jesus Himself, likewise,

stands as the great illustration of the principle upon which we are

dwelling. He occupied the place and enjoyed the favor of a Son from

before all worlds, (Prov. viii.) yet ere He could lay His hand upon

the inheritance He must pass through suffering. He had a baptism to be

baptized with, and was straitened (συνεχομενος) until it was

accomplished. So also when He remembered that "a corn of wheat must

fall into the ground and die," or else abide _alone_, His soul was

"_troubled_." Now, we are to "know Him in the fellowship of His

sufferings," before we can know Him in the fellowship of His glory;

hence it is that the palmed multitude mentioned in Revelation vii. had

to pass through "great tribulation" (της μεγαλης θλιψεως) ere

they reached their peaceful, heavenly home. Passages of Scripture might

be multiplied in proof of this point, but I will merely refer to the

following, viz.--Phil. i. 29; 1 Thess. iii. 4; 2 Thess. i. 5; 1 Tim.

iv. 10; 2 Tim. ii. 12; 1 Peter v. 10.

But, in this remarkable vision, there are two points which, as they

appear prominently in the whole of Israel's after history, deserve to

be particularly noticed. I allude to "the smoking furnace, and the

burning lamp." (ver. 17.) It has been well observed, by a recent

writer, that Israel's history might be summed up in these two words,

"the furnace and the lamp." Egypt was a trying furnace to the seed of

Abraham. There the fire burned fiercely, but it was soon followed by

"the burning lamp" of God's own deliverance. The cry of the suffering

seed had come up into the ears of Jehovah. He had heard their

groanings and seen their afflictions, and had come down to display

above their heads "the lamp" of salvation. "I am come down to deliver

them," said He to Moses. Satan might take delight in kindling the

furnace, and in adding to its intensity, but the blessed God, on the

other hand, ever delighted in letting the rays of His lamp fall upon

the dark path of His suffering heirs. So, when Jehovah had, in the

faithfulness of His love, brought them into the land of Canaan, they

again and again, kindled a furnace by their sins and iniquities; He,

as frequently, raised up deliverers in the persons of the judges which

were as so many lamps of deliverance to them. Further, when by their

aggravated rebellion, they were plunged into the furnace kindled at

Babylon, even there we observe the glimmerings of "the burning lamp,"

and finally it shone out for their full deliverance, in the decree of

Cyrus.

Now, the Lord was constantly reminding the children of Israel of the

above truth. He says to them, "But the Lord hath taken you, and

brought you forth out of the _iron furnace_." (Deut. iv. 20; 1 Kings

viii. 51.) Again, "Cursed be the man that obeyeth not the words of

this covenant, which I commanded your fathers, in the day that I

brought them forth out of the land of Egypt, from _the iron furnace_."

(Jer. xi. 3, 4.)

Finally, we may ask, are the seed of Abraham now suffering in the

furnace, or are they enjoying the lamp of God?--for they must be

experiencing either the one or the other--the furnace, assuredly. They

are scattered over the face of the earth as a proverb and a byword, a

reproach and a hissing among all the nations of the earth. Thus are

they in the iron furnace. But, as it has ever been, "the burning lamp"

will assuredly follow "the smoking furnace," for "all Israel shall be

saved; as it is written, there shall come out of Sion _the Deliverer_,

and shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob." (Isa. lix. 20; Rom. xi.

26.)

Thus we see how that Israel's eventful history has all along stood

connected with the smoking furnace and the burning lamp, here seen in

vision by Abram. They are either presented to us in the furnace of

affliction, through their own sin, or enjoying the fruits of God's

salvation; and even at this moment, when, as has been already

observed, they are manifestly in the furnace, we can witness the

fulfillment of God's promise, so often repeated, "And unto his son

will I give one tribe, that David my servant may have a _lamp_

(margin) always before me in Jerusalem, the city which I have chosen

Me to put My name there." (1 Kings xi. 36; xv. 14; 2 Kings viii. 19;

Psalm cxxxii. 17.) If it be asked where does this lamp shine now? Not

on earth, for Jerusalem, the place of its earthly display, is "trodden

down of the Gentiles," but the eye of faith can behold it shining with

undimmed lustre "in the true tabernacle," where it will continue to

shine "until the fulness of the Gentiles be come in;" and then, when

the furnace, seen in this chapter by Israel's great progenitor, shall

have been heated to the very highest degree of intensity, when the

blood of Israel's tribes shall flow like water round the walls of

Jerusalem, even then, shall the blessed lamp come forth from the place

where it now shines, and cast its cheering rays upon the dark path of

the oppressed and sorrowing remnant, bringing to mind those

oft-illustrated words, "O ISRAEL, THOU HAST DESTROYED THYSELF; BUT IN

ME IS THY HELP."[3]

[3] I would refer the reader to the following scriptures in

confirmation of what has been above advanced on the subject of "the

lamp."--Ex. xxvii. 20; 2 Sam. xxii. 29; Ps. cxix. 105; Prov. vi. 23;

xiii. 9; Isa. lxii. 1.

CHAPTERS XVI., XVII.

These two chapters give us an account of Abram's effort to obtain the

promised seed by hearkening to the voice of his wife, and also of

God's mode of teaching him the unprofitableness of such an appeal to

the mere energy of nature as that which his effort involved.

At the very opening of Abram's course we find his faith put to the

test in the matter of the famine, but here we find him tried in quite

another way, a way moreover, which involved a far higher exercise of

faith and spiritual power. "His own body now dead and the deadness of

Sarah's womb;" although, in the main, "he considered them not," must

have acted upon his mind to a considerable extent.

Now, as in the case of the famine already alluded to, Egypt was at

hand, holding out a refuge from anxiety as to present supply, so here,

"_an Egyptian maid_,"--one of those maid-servants, doubtless, which

Abram had gotten during his sojourn in that evil place--was presented

to him as a relief in the time of anxiety touching the promised seed.

"_Abram hearkened to the voice of Sarai._"

But why introduce the element of bondage into his house? Why did not

Abram's mind shrink from the thought of "the bondwoman and her son" as

much as it had shrunk from the thought of "the steward of his house?"

Might not the question, "Lord, what wilt thou give me," be asked in

connection with one as well as the other? Surely it was as much

opposed to the divine economy to grant the inheritance to the seed of

"_a bondwoman_," as to a "_servant_." In either case it would be an

allowance of the claims of nature, which cannot be.

The principles involved in this act of Abram's are fully laid open to

us in the inspired commentary given in the Epistle to the Galatians.

There we read, "Abram had two sons, the one by a bondmaid, the other

by a free woman. But he who was of the bondwoman was born after the

flesh; but he of the free woman was by promise. Which things are an

allegory: for these are the two covenants; the one from the Mount

Sinai, which gendereth to bondage, which is Agar. For this Agar is

Mount Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to Jerusalem which now is, and is

in bondage with her children. But Jerusalem which is above is free,

which is the mother of us all." (chap. iv. 22-26.)

The churches of Galatia had been led away from the simplicity and

liberty of Christ and had returned to "_the flesh_." They were

beginning to substitute religious ceremonies for the energies of the

Spirit of Christ. Hence it is that the Apostle, in the course of his

reasoning with them on their unhappy movement, refers to the matter

recorded in our chapters, and the way in which he expounds it to them

renders it unnecessary to dwell longer upon it. This step of Abram's

only "gendered to bondage;" it introduced an unhealthy and an unhappy

element into his house which, as we shall see when we proceed further

with our subject, he had to expel ere he could reach the highest point

of elevation in his course.

In chapter xvii. we have God's remedy presented to us, and most

consolatory it is to observe how the Blessed One at once comes in in

order to lead back His servant to the _simple_ yet _difficult_

position of faith in Himself--simple, because therein we have but _one

object_ with which to be occupied--difficult, because therein we have

to contend against the workings of "an evil heart of unbelief,"

leading us to "depart from the living God."

"And when Abram was ninety years old and nine, the Lord appeared to

Abram and said unto him, I AM THE ALMIGHTY GOD; _walk before_ ME, _and

be thou perfect_." Here was at once the effectual cure for all

impatient anxiety. "_I am Almighty_"--I can quicken the dead--I can

call those things that be not as though they were--I can, if needs be,

raise up of stones, children unto you--no flesh shall glory in My

presence. "I am Almighty, walk before Me and be thou perfect."

It is perhaps one of the finest principles with which the mind can be

occupied, that our God desires that He may ever be learnt, in the

variety of His perfections, by the need of His people. We have already

met a striking illustration of this important principle, in the matter

of Abram's conflict with the king of Sodom, in chapter xiv. There,

when Abram was tempted by the offers of the enemy, he found relief in

the apprehension of God's character as "the Most High God, the

possessor of heaven and earth." The character of the communion into

which Melchizedek led the soul of Abram was suited to the

circumstances in which he stood. So is it exactly in this 17th

chapter. Communion with God as "the Almighty" was the sole remedy for

impatient anxiety as to the fulfillment of any promise.

Now, when once the Lord exhibits Himself in His character of

"Almighty," there can be no obstacle whatsoever to the outflow of His

grace; for, when almighty power and almighty grace combine in behalf

of the sinner, faith may count upon a rich and an abundant harvest.

The promises, therefore, with which this chapter abounds are just such

as we might have expected. "I will make thee exceeding fruitful, and I

will make nations of thee, and kings shall come out of thee. And I

will establish my covenant between Me and thee and thy seed after thee

in their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be a God unto

thee and to thy seed after thee. And I will give unto thee, and to thy

seed after thee, the land wherein thou art a stranger, all the land of

Canaan, for an everlasting possession; and I will be their God."

(xvii. 6-8.) Surely these are promises which _almighty grace_ alone

could utter, _almighty power_ alone fulfill.

The above promises stand connected with "the covenant of circumcision"

which is specially important as looked at in connection with Abram's

effort to obtain the seed otherwise than by the operations of God's

own hand. It would be profitable to dwell for a little upon the

doctrine of this covenant of circumcision but my design in taking up

this history, is not by any means to handle it in a doctrinal way, but

rather to draw from it some of those valuable principles of a

decidedly practical tendency with which it so richly abounds; and

therefore I pass rapidly over chapters xvi., xvii. which contain a

mine of precious doctrinal truth quite sufficient to occupy a separate

treatise.[4]

[4] I would observe here that the doctrine of the Epistle to the

Galatians stands intimately connected with chap. xvi., xvii., and I

might add, the important doctrine of Israel's future restoration. We

also get the doctrine of justification by faith fully illustrated in

chap. xv.

Ere closing my observations on this section of our narrative, I would

add that it is _faith_ alone which can enable one to listen, as

Abraham here does, to the promises of Almighty God, and when faith

listens, God will surely continue to speak. Abram here gets his name

changed to Abraham, and the Lord unfolds to him the future greatness

and number of his seed, while Abraham hearkens in the unquestioning

silence of faith. But when the "Almighty God" goes on to say with

reference to Sarai, "As for Sarai thy wife, thou shalt not call her

name Sarai, but Sarah shall her name be. And I will bless her, and

give thee a son also of her; yea, I will bless her, and she shall be a

mother of nations; kings of people shall be of her." (vers. 15, 16.)

He is at once overwhelmed by the pledges of such marvelous power and

grace to be exercised towards him. They exceeded anything he had as

yet known, and "Abraham fell on his face." This is very instructive.

Abraham with his face in the dust, overcome by the plenitude of

almighty power and grace! Surely, we may say, while dwelling upon such

a scripture as this, it is only _faith_ that can rightly entertain the

"_Almighty God_," it _alone_ can give Him His due and proper place and

honor Him as He should be honored. When the Almighty displays Himself,

_self_ must be excluded, hence we find that _Abram_ is set aside in

all this--_Sarai_ is lost sight of--"_the bondwoman and her son_" are,

for the moment, put far out of view, and nothing is seen but "the

Almighty God" in the sovereignty and fulness of His grace and power,

and the faith that could lie prostrate in the dust, in silent

adoration of such a display of the divine glories.

How different is this from the preceding chapter! There we find Abram

hearkening to the suggestion of Sarai his wife, with regard to the

bondwoman--here we find him hearkening to the voice of Jehovah, as

Almighty, who is about to quicken the dead womb of Sarah, and to call

those things that be not as though they were, that no flesh might

glory in His presence. There it is Abram and Sarai _without God_--here

it is God _without Abram and Sarai_. In a word, there it is

_flesh_--here it is spirit--there it is _sight_--here it is _faith_.

Wondrous contrast! Exactly similar to that afterwards displayed by the

Apostle to the churches of Galatia, when he sought to restore them

from the sad influence of "the beggarly elements" of the flesh and the

world, to the full liberty wherewith Christ had made them free.

CHAPTERS XVIII., XIX.

I class these two chapters together because, like those we have just

been considering, they furnish us with a contrast--a contrast most

marked and striking between the position occupied by Abraham in

chapter xviii., and that occupied by Lot in chapter xix.

The Lord Jesus when asked by Judas, not Iscariot, "how is it that thou

wilt manifest thyself unto us and not unto the world?" replied, "If a

man love Me, he will keep My words: and My Father will love him, and

We will come unto him and make our abode with him." (John xiv. 23.)

Again, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear My

voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with

him, and he with Me." (Rev. iii. 20.) Now, Abraham furnishes us with

an exceedingly happy exemplification of the truth stated in the above

passages. "The Lord appeared unto him in the plains of Mamre: and He

sat in _the tent door_ in the heat of the day." (chap. xviii. 1.) Here

we find Abraham again in the full exhibition of his stranger

character. _Mamre_ and _the tent_ are associated in our minds with the

day of his triumph over the king of Sodom. Abraham is still a stranger

and a pilgrim "dwelling in tabernacles." The revelation made unto him

by the Almighty God had not altered the tone of his character in this

respect, but had rather imparted fresh vigor and energy thereto. A

simple dependence upon the promise of the Almighty God was the most

effectual means of maintaining him in his stranger condition.

Now, it is, in the very highest degree, instructive to see the honor

here put upon the character and condition of the stranger. Throughout

the wide range of the world there was just _one spot_ in which the

Lord could accept the rites of hospitality and make Himself at home,

and that was in _the tent of_ "_a pilgrim and stranger_." The Lord

would not honor the sumptuous halls and princely palaces of Egypt

with His presence. No. All His sympathies and all His affections hung

around the stranger of Mamre, who was the only one who, in the midst

of an evil world, could be induced to take God for his portion.

What a season of enjoyment it must have been to Abraham while those

heavenly strangers sat with him and partook of the offerings of his

generous heart. Mark how he calls forth into action all the energies

of his house to do honor to his guests. He hastens from the tent to

the field, and from the field to the tent again, and seems to lose

sight of himself in his effort to make others happy.

Nor is it merely by partaking of Abraham's hospitality that the Lord

gives expression to the high estimation in which He holds him; He

renews His promise to him with regard to the son--He opens up His

counsels to him with reference to Sodom. "Shall I," says He, "hide

from Abraham that thing which I do; seeing that Abraham shall surely

become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth

shall be blessed in him? _For I know him_, that he will command his

children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of

the Lord, to do justice and judgment; that the Lord may bring upon

Abraham that which He hath spoken of him." (vers. 17-19.)

Here Abraham is seen as "_the friend of God_." "The servant knoweth

not what his lord doeth," but Abraham was made acquainted with what

the Lord was about to do to Sodom, while Lot--the one who was so

deeply interested in the solemn event--was left in profound ignorance

about it.

How then does Abraham make use of his favored position? Does he use it

to strengthen more fully, and place on a firmer basis, the future

interests of his house? Surely the natural heart would at once have

prompted him to make such a use of his present advantage in the matter

of nearness to Jehovah. Does he use it thus? Nay. Abraham had learnt

too much of the ways of God to act in a way savoring so much of the

selfishness of a heartless world. But, even had he thought of such a

thing, he had no need to utter a syllable on the subject, for "_the

Almighty God_" had most amply satisfied his heart with regard to the

everlasting interests of his house--He had fixed it upon such a

foundation that an anxious thought would have evidenced a complete

want of moral order in Abraham's soul. He therefore entertained not a

thought about himself or his house, but like a genuine man of faith,

_he takes advantage of his place in the presence of God to intercede

for a brother, whose worldliness had plunged him into the very midst

of that place which was about to be given over to everlasting

destruction_. "And Abraham drew near, and said, Wilt thou also destroy

the righteous with the wicked?" (ver. 23.) "_The righteous!_" to whom

can he allude? Can it be to the man who had so deliberately turned

aside out of the path of faith to take up his abode at Sodom? Yes; he

speaks of Lot--he calls him "_righteous_,"--he speaks of him in the

very same terms as the Spirit in the apostle afterward speaks of him

when he calls him a "righteous soul." Abraham, therefore, was taught

of God when he could recognize in the man surrounded by all the

pollution of Sodom "a righteous soul."[5]

[5] Although I consider Lot the principal object in Abraham's mind,

while interceding before the Lord, I do not forget that there is

mention made of "fifty," etc.

I doubt not it will be admitted by every one taught of God that the

conduct of Abraham in this chapter, furnishes us with one of the most

important results of a holy and separated walk. We observe in it a man

pleading with God in a most urgent strain for one who had turned his

back upon him, and selected Sodom as the place of his abode. How

completely must Abraham's soul have been lifted above "the things that

are seen" when he could thus forget "the strife" and the departure,

worldliness and evil of Lot, and plead for him still as "a righteous

soul." If Abraham appears as "the _friend_ of God" under other

circumstances and other scenes, surely he is here seen as the _child_

of God exhibiting most sweetly those principles which he had learnt in

communion with his heavenly Father.

We shall now leave Abraham, for a little, enjoying his happy place

before the Lord, while we contemplate the last sad scene in the life

of one who seems to have valued the things of this life more highly

than was consistent with the character of "a stranger and pilgrim" or

"a righteous soul."

From the time that the separation took place between Abraham and Lot,

the former seems to have proceeded "from strength to strength;" while

the latter, on the contrary, seems to have proceeded only downwards,

from one stage of weakness to another, until we find him, at the

close, making shipwreck of everything, and merely "escaping with his

life." The loss of all his goods in the battle between the "four kings

and five" does not seem to have had any effect upon the mind of Lot in

the way of teaching him the evil of being mixed up with the world;

yea, he seems to have become more deeply involved in worldliness after

that event than he had been before; for, at the first, he merely

"pitched his tent _towards_ Sodom" (chap. xiii. 12); but now we find

him sitting "in the gate" (chap. xix. 1), which, as we know, was then

the place of honor. When once a man has put his hand to the plow if he

begin to look back, we have been told by Him who cannot err, that "he

is not _fit_ for the kingdom of God." Nor is it possible to count upon

the fearful lengths to which a man may go when once the world, in any

one of its varied aspects, has taken possession of his heart, or when

once he has begun to turn his back upon the people of God. The

terrible declension spoken of in Hebrews x., which stops not short of

"trampling under foot the Son of God," has its beginning in the

apparently simple act of "forsaking the assembling of ourselves

together." How needful, therefore, it is that we should take heed to

our ways, and watch the avenues of our hearts and minds, lest any evil

thing should get dominion over us, which, however trivial in itself,

might lead to the most appalling results.

Now, it strikes me, that we have in the circumstance presented to us

in the opening of chapter xix. the full evidence of Lot's fallen

condition. The Lord Himself does not appear at all. He remains at a

distance from the unholy place, and merely sends _His angels_ to

execute His commission upon the devoted city of Sodom. The angels,

too, exhibit all the symptoms of distance and strangership--they

refuse to go into Lot's house when invited, saying, "_Nay, but we will

abide in the street all night_." True, they subsequently enter into

his house; but, if they do so, it is not so much to enjoy refreshment

as to counteract the sad effects of Lot's wrong circumstances. How

different was the scene at Lot's house from that which they had so

lately witnessed at the tent of the stranger of Mamre! The tumult of

the men of Sodom--to whom, notwithstanding all their ungodly deeds and

ungodly speeches, Lot applies the title of "_brethren_"--the evident

embarrassment of Lot at being discovered in such painful

circumstances--the shocking proposal which he is constrained to make

in order to screen his guests from the violence of the ungodly men of

Sodom--the struggle at the door, and Lot's danger--all these things

must have shocked the heavenly strangers, and stood in marked contrast

with the holy peace and retirement of Abraham's tent, together with

his own calm and dignified demeanor throughout the scene. Well might

those angels have been astonished to find "a righteous soul" in such a

place, when he could have enjoyed, in company with his separated

brother, the peaceful and holy joys of his steady and consistent

course.

But the time had now arrived for the pouring out of the cup of divine

wrath upon Sodom. "The men said unto Lot, Hast thou here any besides?...

bring them out of _this place_: for we will destroy this place,

because the cry of them is waxen great before the face of the Lord;

and the Lord hath sent us to destroy it." (vers. 12, 13.) The critical

moment which the Lord Jesus, in the gospel, notes by the exceedingly

solemn word "UNTIL," was now at hand for the careless inhabitants of

Sodom, who dreamed not of any interruption to their "eating, and

drinking, buying and selling, marrying and giving in marriage." A

moment's respite is allowed, during which Lot bears a message to his

son-in-law, a testimony as to the rapidly approaching judgment; but,

ah! what power could the testimony of one who had voluntarily come in

and settled amongst them, have upon those who had lived and moved from

their earliest infancy in the midst of the ungodly scene? How could

Lot expect that his _words_ would have any weight when his _ways_ had

so sadly contradicted them? He might now, with terrified aspect and

earnest entreaties, urge them to leave a place which he knew was

doomed to everlasting destruction, but they could not forget the calm

and deliberate way in which he had at first "pitched his tent toward

Sodom," and finally taken his seat "in the gate;" hence, as might be

expected, "he seemed as one that mocked unto his sons-in-law." (ver.

14.) And how, so far as he was concerned, could it be otherwise? His

sons-in-law might be, and doubtless were, responsible before God for

the rejection of the testimony; but Lot could not, by any means,

expect them to heed him much, indeed, we find that even he himself was

tardy in departing from the place; for "_while he lingered_"--while

his heart still went after some object or another that was dear to

him--"the men _laid hold upon his hand_, and upon the hand of his

wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters; the Lord being merciful

to him, and _they brought him forth_ and set him without the city."

(ver. 16.) From this statement, it is manifest that, had not the men

"laid hold of, and brought forth" Lot, he would, no doubt, have

"lingered" on "_until_" the fire of God's judgment had fallen upon

him, and prevented even his "escaping with his life." But they "pulled

him out of the fire," because "the Lord had mercy upon him."

But this escape of Lot's only served to put fresh honor upon Abraham,

for we read that "when God destroyed the cities of the plain, _he

remembered Abraham and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow_"

(ver. 29). Thus, as Abraham's sword had delivered Lot in the time of

the conquest of Sodom, his prayer delivered him in the time of its

final overthrow, "for the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man

availeth much." Nor does the contrast between those two men stop here.

There is yet another scene in which they stand at a great distance

from each other as to the moral condition of their souls. "Abraham gat

him up early in the morning, to the place where he stood before the

Lord" (ver. 27). Here the man of faith, the holy pilgrim, once more

raises his head amid the mighty scene of desolation. All was over with

Sodom and its guilty inhabitants, "the smoke of the country went up as

the smoke of a furnace." Sad spectacle! The din and bustle of that

once stirring city was hushed; silence reigned around--the buying and

selling--the eating and drinking--the marrying and giving in

marriage--all the intercourse of social life had been awfully broken

in upon. The solemn "UNTIL" had come at last--the only one in all

that wicked place who, notwithstanding his failure, could be regarded

as "the salt," had been removed--the measure of Sodom's iniquity had

been filled up--the day of divine longsuffering closed, and nothing

now met the eye of Abraham but misery and desolation throughout all

the plain. How melancholy! And yet it was but a type of the far more

terrible desolation which shall sweep across this guilty world when

the Son of man makes His appearance, "when every eye shall see Him,

and all the tribes of the earth shall mourn and wail because of Him."

Thus, "Abraham stood _before the Lord_," completely exempt from all

the sad effects of the recent visitation, as far as he was personally

concerned. His stranger condition which, in the days of Chedorlaomer,

had enabled him to live outside of Sodom and all its circumstances,

still kept him free, and was the means of his escape from Sodom's

unutterable woe and misery. Had Abraham, when solicited by the King of

Sodom, mixed himself up with the things of Sodom, he would have been

involved, in some measure, as was his brother Lot, in its overthrow.

He himself would have been saved, but his work would have been burnt

up. But Abraham was looking for "a city that hath foundations," and he

knew at once that Sodom was not that city, and hence he would have

nothing whatever to do with it. He would "hate even the garment

spotted by the flesh"--he would "touch not the unclean thing," and now

he was permitted to realize the blessed results of his conduct, for,

while Lot had to retreat in confusion and sorrow to a cave in the

mountains, his wife and all his possessions being lost, Abraham takes

his stand, in all that blessed calmness and dignity which ever

characterized him, in the presence of Jehovah, and from thence surveys

the heart-rending scene.

But what of Lot? How did he end his course? "Oh, tell it not in Gath!

publish it not in the streets of Askelon!" Well may we desire to throw

a veil over the closing scene of the life of one who does not seem to

have ever realized, as he should, the power of _the call of God_. He

had always displayed a secret desire for the things of Egypt or those

of Sodom. His heart does not seem to have been thoroughly detached

from the world, and therefore his course was always unsteady; from the

time he separated himself from Abraham, he went from bad to

worse--from one stage of evil to another, until at last the scene

closes with the shocking transaction in the cave; the sad results of

which were seen in the persons of Moab and Ammon, the enemies of the

people of God.

Thus ended the course of Lot, whose history ought to be a solemn

warning to all Christians who feel a tendency to be carried away by

the world. The history has not been left on record without a purpose.

"Whatever things were written aforetime, were written for our

learning," may we therefore learn from the above narrative, "not to

lust after evil things," for, although "the Lord knows how to deliver

the godly out of temptation," yet it is our place to keep as much out

of the way of temptation as we can, and our prayer should ever be

"lead us not into temptation." "The world passeth away, and the lust

thereof; but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever" (1 John

ii. 17).

CHAPTERS XX., XXI.

Lot has now passed off the scene--his sun has gone down amid thick

clouds and a gloomy atmosphere; it now remains for us to pursue, for a

few moments longer, the narrative of Abraham's ways, and God's

dealings with him.

There was one point involved in chapter xii. which I left untouched,

knowing that it would come before us again in this place.

When Abraham went down into Egypt, he entered into a compact with

Sarah his wife _to conceal part of the truth_, "Say, I pray thee,"

said he, "thou art my sister" (Chap. xii. 13). One evil ever leads to

another. Abraham was moving in the wrong direction when he went down

into Egypt for help, and therefore did not exhibit that refinement of

conscience which would have told him of the moral unsoundness of this

mental reservation. "Speak every man truth with his neighbor," being a

divine principle, would always exercise an influence upon one walking

in communion with God; but Abraham's desire to get out of present

trial was an evidence of failure in communion, and hence "his moral

sense," as a recent writer has termed it, was not as keen or as

elevated as it should have been. However, although the Lord plagued

Pharaoh's house because of his having taken Sarah into it, and

further, although Pharaoh rebukes Abraham for his acting in the

matter, yet the latter says nothing whatever about the deliberate

compact into which he had entered with his wife, to keep back part of

the truth; he silently takes the rebuke and goes on his way, but the

root of the evil remained still in his heart, ready to show itself at

any time if circumstances should arise to draw it out.

Now, it is marvelous to behold Abraham coming up out of

Egypt--building an altar and pitching a tent--exhibiting the noble

generosity of faith--vanquishing Chedorlaomer and repulsing the

temptation of the King of Sodom--urging his request for a son and

heir, receiving the most gracious answer--on his face before God in

the sense of His almighty grace and power--entertaining the heavenly

strangers and interceding for his brother Lot. In a word, I say, it is

marvelous to behold Abraham passing through such brilliant scenes,

comprising a series of years, and, all the while, this moral point, in

which he had erred at the very threshold of his course, remains

unsettled in his heart. True, it did not develop itself during the

period to which I have just referred, but why did it not? Because

Abraham was not in circumstances to call it out, but there it was

notwithstanding. The evil was not _fully brought out_--not confessed,

not got rid of,--and the proof of this is, that the moment he again

finds himself in circumstances which could act upon _his weak point_,

it is at once made manifest that the weak point is there. The

temptation through which he passed in the matter of the King of Sodom,

was not by any means calculated to touch this peculiar point; nor was

anything that occurred to him from the time he came up out of Egypt

until he went down into Gerar, calculated to touch it, for had it been

touched, it would no doubt have exhibited itself.

We never can know what is in our hearts until circumstances arise to

draw it out. Peter did not imagine that he could deny his Lord, but

when he got into circumstances which were calculated to act upon his

peculiar weakness, he showed that the weakness was there.

It required the protracted period of forty years in the wilderness to

teach the children of Israel "what was in their hearts" (Deut. viii.

2); and it is one of the grand results of the course of discipline

through which each child of God passes, to lead him into a more

profound knowledge of his own weakness and nothingness. "We had the

_sentence of death in ourselves_, that we should not trust in

ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead" (2 Cor. i. 9). The more

we are growing in the sense of our infirmities, the more shall we see

our need of clinging more closely to Christ--drawing more largely upon

His grace, and entering more fully into the cleansing virtue and value

of His atoning blood. The Christian, at the opening of his course,

never knows his own heart; indeed, he could not bear the full

knowledge of it; he would be overwhelmed thereby. "The Lord leads us

not by the way of the Philistines lest we should see war," and so be

plunged in despair. But He graciously leads us by a circuitous route,

in order that our apprehension of His grace may keep pace with our

growing self-knowledge.

In chapter xx., then, we find Abraham again, after the lapse of many

years, falling into the old error, a suppression of truth, for which

he has to suffer a rebuke from a mere man of the world. The man of the

world, in this scene, seemed, for the moment, to possess a more

refined moral sense than the man of God. "Said he not unto me," says

he, "'She is my sister'! and she, even she herself said, 'He is my

brother': in the integrity of my heart and innocency of my hands have

I done this." But mark how God enters the scene for the purpose of

vindicating His servant. He says to Abimelech, "Behold, thou art but a

dead man." Yes, with all "the integrity of his heart and innocency of

his hands"--with all his fine moral sense of right and wrong, he was

"but a dead man," when it came to be a question, for one moment,

between him and even an erring child of God. God, in His grace, was

looking at His dear servant from quite a different point of view from

that adopted by Abimelech. All that the latter could see in Abraham

was a man guilty of a manifest piece of deception, but God saw more

than that, and therefore He says to Abimelech, "Now therefore restore

the man his wife; _for he is a prophet, and he shall pray for thee,

and thou shalt live_." What dignity is here put upon Abraham! God

himself vindicates him before the world! Not a syllable of

reproof!--not a breath of disapprobation!--no, "he is a prophet and he

shall pray for thee and thou shalt live." How truly consolatory it is

for the poor, weak, and harassed believer to remember that His Father

is ever viewing him through the medium of the Lord Jesus Christ. He

sees nothing whatever upon His child but the excellency and

perfectness of Jesus. Thus, while a man of the world may have to

rebuke a child of God, as in the case before us, God declares that He

values that character which the believer has received from Him more

than all the amiability, integrity, and innocency that nature can

boast of.

This reminds us of the way in which the Lord vindicates the Baptist

before the multitude, although He had sent a message to himself which

must have exercised him deeply;--"I say unto you, among those that are

born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist"

(Luke vii. 28). Thus, whatever unfavorable aspect the child of God may

wear in the world's view, God will ever show Himself the vindicator of

such. "He suffered no man to do them wrong; yea, he reproved kings for

their sakes, saying, Touch not mine anointed and do my prophets no

harm" (1 Chron. xvi. 21, 22).

However, as was observed with regard to John the Baptist, the message

sent from the Lord to His servant must have exercised his spirit

deeply in secret, so is it in Abraham's case. Abraham must have felt

deeply humbled in his soul at the thought of what had occurred, and

the consciousness of the fact that God would not enter into judgment

with him about it would have augmented that feeling. When Abraham fell

into the same error in Egypt we do not find that Pharaoh's reproof

produced any manifest effect. He was not humbled by it to such a

degree as to make a full confession of the whole thing. He takes his

departure out of Egypt, but _the root_ of evil remains in his heart,

ready to shoot forth its pernicious branches again. Not so in chapter

xx.; here we get at once at the root of the matter--Abraham opens up

his whole heart, he confesses that from the very first moment of his

course he had retained this thing in his heart which had twice

betrayed him into an act, which, to say the least of it, would not

bear the light. And as there is the full confession of the evil on his

part, so is there the complete renunciation of it--he gets rid of it

fully, root and branch. The leaven is put forth out of every corner of

his heart, he hearkens to Abimelech's reproof and profits by it; it

was God's instrument by which He brought out the matter, and delivered

the soul of his servant from the power of evil.

But, in addition to the point upon which we have been dwelling, there

was yet another question to be settled ere Abraham could reach the

most elevated point of his course as a man of faith. The bondwoman and

her son were yet in the house. He must put forth these from _his

house_ as he had put forth the evil from _his heart_. The house and

the heart must be cleared out. In chapter xxi. we find matters brought

to a crisis with regard to the bondwoman and her son, concerning whom

we have heard comparatively nothing until now. The element of bondage

had heretofore lain dormant in Abraham's house because not roused into

action, by anything of an opposite nature and tendency. But, in the

birth of Isaac--the son of the free woman--the child of promise--we

see a new element introduced. The spirit of liberty and the spirit of

bondage are thus brought into contact, and the struggle must issue in

the expulsion of either one or the other. They cannot move on in

harmony, for "how can two walk together except they be agreed."

Now we are invited by the Apostle, in his epistle to the Galatians, to

behold in these two children, "the two covenants," the one gendering

to _bondage_, the other to _liberty_; and further, to behold in them

samples of the fleshly and spiritual seed of Abraham, the former,

"born after the flesh," the latter, "born after the Spirit." Nor can

anything be more marked than the line of demarcation between, not only

the two covenants, but the two seeds. They are totally distinct the

one from the other, and can never, by any operation, be brought to

coalesce. Abraham was made to feel, and that painfully, this fact.

"Cast out this bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman

shall not be heir with my son, even with Isaac" (Chap. xxi. 10). Here

the natural result shows itself. The two elements could not mingle. As

well might the north and the south winds be expected to blow in all

their strength without exciting a convulsion in the elements.

But it was most painful work to Abraham to be obliged thus to thrust

forth his son. "The thing was very grievous in Abraham's sight because

of his son;" but it mattered not, he must be put out, for the son of a

bondwoman could never inherit the promises made only to the spiritual

seed. If Ishmael were to have been retained, it would have been an

open allowance of the claims of the flesh. Abraham would have found

something "as pertaining to the flesh" and would thus have had

"whereof to glory." But no--all God's promises are to be made good to

those who, like Isaac, are the children of promise, born after the

Spirit, "not of blood, not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will

of man, but of God" (John i. 13). Ishmael was manifestly born "of the

will of the flesh, and of the will of man," and "flesh and blood

cannot inherit the kingdom of God." The flesh must therefore be set

aside and kept under, no matter how "grievous" it may be to our

hearts. The Christian will often find it grievous enough to keep down

the old principle which ever lusts against the new, but the Lord gives

spiritual power for the struggle so that "we are more than conquerors

through Him that loves us."

But I must again remind the reader that it is not my present purpose

to pursue the doctrinal matter involved in this instructive

history[6]; were I to do so it would carry me far beyond the limits I

have prescribed for myself in this little paper, the design of which

is, as before observed, simply to direct attention to a few leading

principles put forward in the narrative. I will therefore pass on to

the next chapter which is the last of the section laid out for

consideration.

[6] For a fuller examination and spiritual instruction contained in

Abraham's and others' history, see _Genesis in the Light of the New

Testament_; from the same publishers.

CHAPTER XXII.

The circumstances through which Abraham passed in chapters twenty and

twenty-one were most important indeed. An evil which had long been

harbored in his heart had been put away; the bondwoman and her son,

who had so long retained quiet possession of his house, were cast

out, and he now stands forth as "a vessel sanctified and meet for the

master's use, prepared unto every good work."

"And it came to pass _after these things_, that God did tempt (or try)

Abraham." Here Abraham is at once introduced into a place of real

dignity and honor. When God tries an individual it is a certain

evidence of His confidence in him. We never read that "God did tempt

Lot"--no, the goods of Sodom furnished a sufficiently strong

temptation for Lot. The enemy laid a snare for him in the well-watered

plains of Sodom which he seemed but too prone to fall into. Not so

with Abraham. He lived more in the presence of God, and was,

therefore, less susceptible of the influence of that which had

ensnared his erring brother.

Now, the test to which God submits Abraham--the furnace in which He

tries him, marks at once a pure and genuine metal. Had Abraham's faith

not been of the purest and most genuine character, he would assuredly

have winced under the fiery ordeal through which we behold him passing

in this beautiful chapter. When God promised Abraham a son, he

believed the promise "and it was counted unto him for righteousness."

"He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief, but was

strong in faith, giving glory to God." But then, having received this

son, having realized the truth of the promise, was there not a danger

that he would rest in _the gift_ instead of in _the Giver_? Was there

not a danger that he would lean upon Isaac, in thinking upon the

future seed and future inheritance, rather than upon God Himself who

had promised him the seed? Surely there was, and God knew that, and

therefore tries His servant in a way, more than anything, calculated

to put him to the test as to the object on which his soul was resting.

The grand inquiry put to Abraham's heart, in this wondrous

transaction, was, "are you still walking before THE ALMIGHTY GOD, THE

QUICKENER OF THE DEAD?" God desired to know whether he could apprehend

in Him the One who was as able to raise up children from the ashes of

his sacrificed son as from the dead womb of Sarah. In other words, God

desired to prove that Abraham's faith reached forth, as some one has

observed, TO RESURRECTION, for if it stopped short of this, he never

would have responded to the startling command, "Take now, thy son,

thine only son Isaac whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of

Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt-offering upon one of the

mountains which I will tell thee of" (Chap. xxii. 2.) But Abraham

"staggered not." He at once responds to the call. God had asked for

Isaac, and Isaac must be given, and that too without a breath of

murmur. He could give up anything or everything so long as his eye

rested upon "the Almighty God." And mark the point of view in which

Abraham puts this journey of his to Mount Moriah, "I and the lad will

go yonder _and worship_." Yes, it was an act of worship, for he was

about to lay upon the altar of the Quickener of the dead the one in

whom all God's promises centred. It was an act of worship--most

elevated worship, for he was about to prove, in the sight of heaven

and hell, that no other object filled his soul but the Almighty God.

Hence, what calmness! what self-possession! what pure devotion! what

elevation of mind! what self-renunciation! He never falters throughout

the scene. He saddles the ass, prepares the wood, and sets off to

Mount Moriah, without giving expression to one anxious thought,

although, as far as human eye could see, he was about to lose the

object of his heart's most tender affection, yea, the one upon whom

the future interests of his house, to all appearance, depended.

Abraham, however, showed most fully that his heart had found a nearer

and dearer object than Isaac, dear as he was; he showed also that his

faith was resting upon another object altogether, with reference to

the future interests of his seed, _and that he was as simply resting

upon the promise of Almighty God after the birth of Isaac as before

it_.

Behold, then, this man of faith as he ascends the mount, taking with

him his "well-beloved!" What a scene of breathless interest![7] How

must the angelic hosts have watched this illustrious father from stage

to stage of his wondrous journey, until at last they beheld his hand

stretched forth for the knife to slay his son--that son for which he

had so long and ardently wished, and for which he had so steadily

trusted God. Then again, what an opportunity for Satan to ply his

fiery darts! What abundant room for such suggestions as the following,

viz., "What will become of the promises of God with regard to the seed

and the inheritance, if you thus sacrifice your only son? Beware that

you are not led astray by some false revelation; or, _if it be true_

that God has said so and so, doth not God know that, in the day you

sacrifice your son, all your hopes will be blasted? Further, think of

Sarah; what will she do if she lose Isaac, after having induced you to

expel from your house Ishmael?" All these suggestions, and many

beside, the enemy might bring to bear upon the heart of Abraham. Nor

would Abraham himself have been beyond the region of those thoughts

and reasonings which, at such a time, would not fail to arise within

him. What then was his answer to all such dark suggestions?

RESURRECTION! "By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered up Isaac;

and he that had received the promises offered up his only begotten

son, of whom it was said, that in Isaac shall thy seed be called:

ACCOUNTING THAT GOD WAS ABLE TO RAISE HIM UP, EVEN FROM THE DEAD; FROM

WHENCE ALSO HE RECEIVED HIM IN A FIGURE" (Heb. xi. 17-19).

[7] It strikes me that we get, in Abraham's journey to Mount Moriah, a

remarkable type of the mysterious scene afterwards exhibited at

Calvary, when God was really providing himself a lamb. We can have no

difficulty in losing sight of Herod and Pilate, the chief priests and

scribes, the Pharisees and the multitude, and thus we have none

remaining but THE FATHER AND THE SON, who, in company, ascend the

Mount and carry out the gracious work of redemption in the unbroken

solitude of that place.

Resurrection is God's mighty remedy for all the mischief and ruin

introduced by Satan; when once we arrive at this point, we have done

with the power of Satan, the last exercise of which is seen in death.

Satan cannot touch the life that has been received in resurrection,

for the last exercise of his power is seen in the grave of Christ;

beyond that he can do nothing. Hence the security of the Church's

place; her "life is hidden with Christ in God." Blessed hiding place!

May we rejoice in it more and more each day.

I will now draw this paper to a close. We have followed Abraham in his

course, from Ur of the Chaldees up to the Mount Moriah--we have seen

him resign, at the call of God, family and kindred, lands and

possessions, worldly ease and prosperity; and lastly, we have seen

him, in the power of faith, at the same call of God, ascend the

solitary mount, for the purpose of laying "his only begotten" upon

God's altar, and thus to declare that he could give up everything and

every one but God Himself--and that, being acquainted with the meaning

of "THE ALMIGHTY" and "RESURRECTION," he cared not though he were

called to look to the stones for the raising up of seed unto him.

On the other hand, we have followed Lot from Ur of the Chaldees also;

but alas! his path was a far different one from that of his brother.

He does not seem to have realized the power of the call of God in his

own soul; he moved rather under Abraham's influence than under that of

Jehovah; hence we find that, while Abraham was, at every step of his

journey, letting go the world, Lot was doing the very reverse; he was

grasping at the world in every shape and form, and he obtained that at

which he was grasping, but what then? What of the end? Ah, that is the

point. What of Lot's end? Instead of being a noble spectacle unto

angels, and a pattern to all future generations of the faithful,--of

what faith can enable a man "to do and to suffer" for God,--he was

just the reverse; he was led away by the enemy of his soul, who

ensnared him by means of the things of the world; he spent his days

amid the uncleanness of Sodom, and the scene closes with the sad

circumstances in the cave. All he did for God or his people was to

beget the Ammonite and the Moabite, the enemies of both.

How wondrous then is that grace, which, speaking of the history of

such an one, could say, "And delivered just Lot, vexed with the filthy

conversation of the wicked; for that righteous man dwelling among

them, in seeing and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day

with their unlawful deeds" (2 Peter ii. 7, 8).

C. H. M.

"THOU AND THY HOUSE."

There are two houses which occupy a very prominent place on the page

of inspiration, and these are, the house of God and the house of God's

servant. God attaches immense importance to His house; and justly so,

because it is His. His truth, His honor, His character, His glory, are

all involved in the character of His house; and hence it is His desire

that the impress of what He is should plainly appear on that which

belongs to Him. If God has a house, it assuredly should be a godly

house, a holy house, a spiritual house, an elevated house, a pure and

heavenly house. It should be all this, not merely in abstract position

and principle, but practically and characteristically. Its abstract

position is founded upon what God has made it, and where He has set

it; but its practical character is founded upon the actual walk of

those who form its constituent parts down here upon this earth.

Now, while many minds may be prepared to enter into the truth and

importance of all the principles connected with God's house, there may

be but few, comparatively, who are disposed to give a due measure of

attention to those connected with the house of God's servant; although

if one were asked the question, What house stands next in order to the

house of God? he should undoubtedly reply, The house of His servant.

However, as there is nothing like bringing the holy authority of

God's Word to bear upon the conscience, I shall quote a few passages

of Scripture, which will tend to show, in a clear and forcible point

of view, what are God's thoughts about the house of one holding

connection with Him.

When the iniquity of the antediluvian world had risen to a head, and

the end of all flesh had come before a righteous God, who was about to

roll the heavy tide of judgment over the corrupted scene, these sweet

words fell upon Noah's ear: "Come thou and _all thy house_ into the

ark; for thee have I seen righteous before Me in this generation."

(Gen. vii. 1.) Now, it will be said that Noah was a type of

Christ--the righteous head of a saved family--saved in virtue of their

association with him. All this is fully granted; but Noah's typical

character does not in any wise interfere with the principle which I

seek to deduce from this and kindred passages, which principle I shall

here, at the outset, distinctly lay down--it is this: _the house of

every servant of God is, in virtue of its connection with Him, brought

into a position of privilege and consequent responsibility_.[8] That

this is a principle involving vast practical consequences we shall,

with God's blessing and grace, see ere we close this paper; but we

must first seek to establish its truth from the Word of God. Were we

merely left to argue from analogy, our thesis might be easily proved;

for it could never be supposed, by any mind at all acquainted with the

character and ways of God, that He would attach such unspeakable

importance to His own house, and attach none at all, or almost none,

to that of His servant. This were impossible; it would be utterly

unlike God, and God must always act like Himself. But we are not left

to analogy on this most important and deeply practical question; and

the passage just quoted forms one of the first of a series of direct

and positive proofs. In it we find those immensely significant words,

"_Thou and thy house_" inseparably linked together. God did not reveal

a salvation for Noah which was of no avail to Noah's house. He never

contemplated such a thing. The same ark that lay open to him lay open

to them also. Why? Was it because they had faith? No; but because _he_

had, and they were connected with him. God gave him a blank check for

himself and his family, and it devolved upon him to fill it up by

bringing them in along with him. I repeat it, this does not in the

least interfere with Noah's typical character. I look at him

typically, but I look at him personally also. Nor can I, under any

circumstances, separate a man from his house. The house of God is

brought into blessing and responsibility because of its connection

with Him; and the house of the servant of God is brought into blessing

and responsibility because of its connection with him. This is our

thesis.

[8] The reader will not, I trust, imagine that the necessity for the

work of the Holy Ghost in the regeneration of the children of

Christian parents is denied or interfered with. God forbid! "Except a

man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." This is as true

of a Christian's child as of every one else. Grace is not hereditary.

The sum of what I would press upon Christian parents is, that

Scripture inseparably links a man with his house, and that the

Christian parent is warranted in counting upon God for his children,

and responsible to train his children for God. Let any one who denies

this interpret Ephesians vi. 4.

The next passage to which I shall refer occurs in the life of Abraham.

"And the Lord said, 'Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I

do?... For I know him, that he will command his children and his

household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do

justice and judgment; that the Lord may bring upon Abraham that which

He hath spoken of him.'" (Gen. xviii. 17-19.) Here it is not a

question of salvation, but of communion with the mind and purposes of

God; and let the Christian parent note and solemnly ponder the fact

that when God was seeking out a man to whom He could disclose His

secret counsels, He selected one possessing the simple characteristic

of "commanding his children and his household." This, to a tender

conscience, cannot fail to prove a most pungent principle. If there is

one point above another in which Christians have failed, it is in this

very point of commanding their children and household. They surely

have not set God before them in this particular; for if I look at the

entire record of God's dealings with His house, I find them invariably

characterized by the exercise of power on the principle of

righteousness. He has firmly established and unflinchingly carried out

His holy authority. It matters not what the outward aspect or

character of His house may be, the essential principle of His dealing

with it is immutable. "Thy testimonies are very sure; holiness

becometh thy house, O Lord, _forever_." Now, the servant must ever

take his Master as his model; and if God rules His house with power

exercised in righteousness, so must I; for if I am in any one

particular of my conduct different from Him, I must in that particular

be wrong. This is plain.

But not only does God so rule His house; He likewise loves, approves

of, and treats with His marked and honored confidence those who do the

same. In the above passage, we find Him saying, "I cannot hide my

purposes from Abraham." Why? Is it because of his personal grace or

faith? No; but simply because "he will command his children and his

household." A man who knows how to command his house is worthy of

God's confidence. This is a stupendous truth, the edge of which should

pierce the conscience of many a Christian parent. Many of us, alas!

with our eye resting on Genesis xviii. 19, may well prostrate

ourselves before the One who uttered and penned that word, and cry

out, Failure! failure! shameful, humiliating failure! And why is this?

Why have we failed to meet the solemn responsibility devolving upon us

in reference to the due command of our households? I believe there is

but one reply, viz., because we have failed to realize, by faith, the

privilege conferred upon those households in virtue of their

association with us. It is remarkable that our two earliest proofs

should present to our view, with such accuracy, the two grand

divisions of our question, namely, privilege and responsibility. In

Noah's case, the word was, "Thou and thy house" in the place of

salvation; in Abraham's case, it was "Thou and thy house" in the place

of moral government. The connection is at once marked and beautiful,

and the man who fails in faith to appropriate the privilege will fail

in moral power to answer the responsibility. God looks upon a man's

house as part of himself, and he cannot, in the smallest degree,

whether in principle or practice, disregard the connection without

suffering serious damage, and also marring the testimony.

Now, the question for the Christian parent's conscience really is, _Am

I counting upon God for my house, and ruling my house for God?_ A

solemn question, surely; yet it is to be feared very few feel its

magnitude and power. And here, perhaps, my reader may feel disposed to

demand fuller Scripture-proof than has yet been adduced, as to our

warrant for counting upon God for our houses. I shall therefore

proceed with the Scripture-quotations. I give one from the history of

Jacob. "And God said to Jacob, 'Arise, go up to Bethel.'" This would

seem to have been addressed to Jacob personally; but he never thought

for a moment of disconnecting himself from his family, either as to

privilege or responsibility; wherefore it is immediately added, "Jacob

said unto _his household_, and to all that were with him, 'Put away

the strange gods that are among you, and be clean, and change your

garments; and let _us_ arise, and go up to Bethel.'" (Gen. xxxv. 1-3.)

Here we see that a call to Jacob put Jacob's house under

responsibility. He was called to go up to God's house, and the

question immediately suggested itself to his conscience, whether his

own house were in a fit condition to respond to such a call.

We now turn to the opening chapters of the book of Exodus, where we

find that one of Pharaoh's four objections to the full deliverance and

separation of Israel had specific reference to "the little ones." "And

Moses and Aaron were brought again unto Pharaoh; and he said unto

them, 'Go, serve the Lord your God; but who are they that shall go?'

And Moses said, 'We will go with our young and with our old, with our

sons and with our daughters, with our flocks and with our herds will

we go; _for_ we must hold a feast unto the Lord.'" (Ex. x. 8, 9.) The

reason why they should take the little ones and all with them was

because they were going to hold a feast unto the Lord. Nature might

say, Oh, what can these little creatures know about a feast unto the

Lord? Are you not afraid of making them formalists? The reply of Moses

is simple and decisive--"We will go with our young ... _for_ we must

hold a feast unto the Lord." They had no idea of seeking one thing for

themselves and another for their children. They dreamed not of Canaan

for themselves and Egypt for their children. How could they taste the

manna of the wilderness, or the old corn of the land, while their

children were feeding upon the leeks, the onions, and the garlic of

Egypt? Impossible. Moses and Aaron understood not such acting. They

felt that God's call to them was a call to their little ones; and,

moreover, were it not fully carried out, they would no sooner have

gone forth from Egypt by one road than their children would draw them

back by another. That such would have been the case Satan was but too

well aware, and hence appears the reason of the objection, "Not so:

go now _ye that are men_." This is the very thing which so many

professing Christians are doing (or attempting, rather, to do) at this

present time. They profess to go forth themselves to serve the Lord,

but their little ones are in Egypt. They profess to have taken "three

days' journey into the wilderness;" in other words, they profess to

have left the world, they profess to be dead to it, and risen with

Christ, as the possessors of a heavenly life, and the heirs and

expectants of a heavenly glory; but they leave their little ones

behind, in the hands of Pharaoh, or rather of Satan.[9] They have

given up the world for themselves, but they cannot do so for their

children. Hence, on Lord's day, the professed position of strangers

and pilgrims is taken; hymns are sung, prayers uttered, and principles

taught which bespeak a people far advanced in the heavenly life, and

just on the borders of Canaan, in actual experience (in spirit, of

course, they are already there); but, alas! on Monday morning, every

habit, every pursuit, every object, contradicts all this. The little

ones are trained for the world. The scope, aim, object, and entire

character of their education is worldly, in the truest and strictest

sense of the word. Moses and Aaron would not have understood such

actings, and neither indeed should any morally honest heart, or

upright mind, understand them. I should have no other principle,

portion, or prospect for my children but what I have for myself; nor

should I train them with a view to any other. If Christ and heavenly

glory are sufficient for me, they are sufficient for them likewise;

but then the proof that they are really sufficient for me should be

unequivocal. The tone of the parent's character should be such as to

afford not a shadow of a doubt as to the real, deep-seated purpose and

object of his soul.

[9] It will be said that there cannot be any analogy between the

actual removal of people from one country to another and the training

of our children. I reply, the analogy only applies in principle. It is

perfectly evident that we cannot take our children to heaven in the

sense in which the Israelites took theirs to Canaan. God alone can fit

our children for heaven, by implanting in them the life of His own

Son; and He alone can bring them to heaven, in His own time. But then,

although we can neither fit our children for, nor bring them to,

heaven, we can, nevertheless, by faith, train them for it; and it is

not merely our _duty_ (a poor, cold, and unworthy expression), but our

high and holy _privilege_ so to do. Hence, therefore, if the principle

on which, and the object with which, we train our children are

manifestly worldly, we do, virtually, and so far as in us lies, leave

them in the world. And on the other hand, if our principle and object

are unequivocally heavenly, then do we, so far as in us lies, train

them for heaven. This, my beloved reader, is all that is meant in this

tract by leaving our children in Egypt or taking them to Canaan. We

are responsible to _train_ our children, though we cannot _convert_

them; and God will assuredly bless the faithful training of those whom

He has graciously given us.

But what shall my child say to me if I tell him that I am earnestly

seeking Christ and heaven for him, while at the same time I am

educating him for the world? Which will he believe? Which will exert

the more powerful practical influence on his heart and life--my words,

or my acts? Let conscience reply; and oh, let it be an honest reply, a

reply emanating from its deepest depths, a reply which will

unanswerably demonstrate that the question is understood in all its

pungency and power. I verily believe the time is come for plain

dealing with one another's conscience. It must be apparent to every

prayerful and attentive observer of the Christianity of the present

day, that it wears a most sickly aspect; that the tone is miserably

low; and, in a word, that there must be something radically wrong. As

to testimony for the Son of God, it is rarely--alas! how

rarely!--thought of. Personal salvation seems to form the very highest

object with ninty-nine out of every hundred professing Christians, as

if we were left here to be saved; and not, as saved ones, to glorify

Christ.

Now, I would affectionately, yet faithfully, suggest the question,

whether much of the failure in practical testimony for Christ is not

justly traceable to the neglect of the principle involved in the

expression, "Thou and thy house." I cannot but think it has much to do

with it. One thing is certain, that a quantity of worldliness,

confusion, and moral evil has crept in amongst us through our little

ones having been left in Egypt. We see many who, it may be, ten,

fifteen, or twenty years ago, took a prominent place in testimony and

service, and seemed to have their hearts much in the work, are now

gone back, lamentably, not having power to keep their own heads above

water, much less to help any one else. All this utters a warning voice

for Christian parents having rising families; and the utterance is,

"BEWARE OF LEAVING YOUR LITTLE ONES IN EGYPT." Many a heart-broken

father, at the present moment, is left to weep and groan over his

fatal mistake in reference to his household. He left them in Egypt, in

an evil hour, and under a gross delusion, and now when he ventures,

it may be in real faithfulness and earnest affection, to drop a word

into the ear of those who have grown up around him, they meet it with

a deaf ear and an indifferent heart, while they cling with vigor and

decision to that Egypt in which he faithlessly and inconsistently left

them. This is a stern fact, the statement of which may send a pang to

many a heart; but truth must be told, in order that, though it wounds

some, it may prove a salutary warning to others. But I must proceed

with the proofs.[10]

[10] There is, I should say, a very serious error involved in a

Christian parent's committing the training of his children to

unconverted persons, or even to those whose hearts are not one with

him as to separation from the world. It is natural that a child should

look up to, and follow the example of, one who has the training and

management of him. Now, what can a teacher make of a child, save what

he is himself? Whither can he lead him, but to where he is himself?

What principles can he instill, save those which govern his own mind,

and form the basis of his own character? Well, if I see a man governed

by worldly principles--if I see plainly, from his whole course and

character, that he is an unconverted person, shall I commit to him the

training and instruction of my children, or the formation of their

characters? It would be the height of folly and inconsistency so to

do. As well might a man who desired to make an oval-shaped bullet cast

the melted lead into a circular mould.

The same principle applies to the reading of books. A book is

decidedly a _silent_ teacher and former of the mind and character; and

if I am called to look well to the character and principles of the

living teacher, I am equally so to look to those of the silent

teacher. I am quite convinced that in reference both to books and

teachers, we need to have our consciences stirred and instructed.

In the book of Numbers, "the little ones" are again introduced to our

notice. We have just seen that the real purpose of a soul in communion

with God was to go up with the little ones out of Egypt. They must be

brought forth from thence at all cost; but neither faith nor

faithfulness will rest here. We must not only count upon God to bring

them up out of Egypt, but also to bring them on into Canaan. Here

Israel signally failed. After the return of the spies, the

congregation, on hearing their discouraging report, gave utterance to

these fatal accents, "Wherefore hath the Lord brought us unto this

land, to fall by the sword, that our wives and our children should be

a prey? Were it not better for us to return into Egypt?" (Numb. xiv.)

This was terrible. It was, in reality, so far as in them lay,

verifying Pharaoh's wily prediction in reference to these very little

ones, "Look to it now, for evil is before you." Unbelief always

justifies Satan and makes God a liar, while faith always justifies God

and proves Satan a liar; and as it is invariably true that according

to your faith so shall it be unto you, so we find, on the other hand,

that unbelief reaps as it sows. Thus it was with unhappy, because

unbelieving, Israel. "As truly as I live, saith the Lord, _as ye have

spoken in Mine ears, so will I do to you_. Your carcasses shall fall

in this wilderness; and all that were numbered of you, according to

your whole number, from twenty years old and upward, which have

murmured against Me, doubtless ye shall not come into the land

concerning which I sware to make you dwell therein, save Caleb the son

of Jephunneh, and Joshua the son of Nun. _But your little ones_, which

ye said should be a prey, them will I bring in, and they shall know

the land which ye have despised. But as for you, your carcasses, they

shall fall in the wilderness." (Ver. 28-32.) "They limited the Holy

One of Israel" as to their little ones. This was a grievous sin, and

it has been recorded for our admonition. How constantly does the heart

of the Christian parent reason, in reference to the mode of dealing

with children, instead of simply taking God's ground about them. It

may be said, We cannot make Christians of our children. This is not

the question. We are not called to "make" any thing of them. This is

God's work, and His only; but if He says, "Bring your little ones with

you," shall we refuse? I would not make a formalist of my child, and I

_could_ not make him a real Christian; but if God, in infinite grace,

says to me, "I look upon your house as part of yourself, and, in

blessing you, I bless it," shall I, in gross unbelief of heart, refuse

this blessing, lest I should minister to formalism, or because I

cannot impart reality? God forbid. Yea, rather, let me rejoice, with

deep unfeigned joy, that God has blessed me with a blessing so

divinely rich and full that it extends not only to me, but also to all

who belong to me; and, seeing that grace has given me the blessing,

let faith take it up and appropriate it.[11]

[11] Very many content themselves with the assurance that at some time

or other their children will be converted. But this is not taking

God's ground with them now. If we have the assurance that they are

within the range of God's purpose, why do we not act upon that

assurance? If we are waiting to see certain evidences of conversion in

them before we act as Scripture directs, it is plain that we are

looking at something besides God's promise. This is not faith. The

Christian parent is privileged to look upon his child now as one to be

trained for the Lord. He is bound to take this ground, in faith, and

train him thus, looking to God, in the fullest assurance, for the

result. If I wait to see fruits, this is not faith. Besides, the

question arises, What are my children now? They may be going about

like idle, willful vagrants, bringing sad dishonor on the name and

truth of Christ, and yet all the while I satisfy myself by saying, I

know they will be converted yet. This will never do. My children

should be now a testimony for God; and they can only be this by my

taking God's ground with them, and going on with Him about them.

But let us remember that the way to prove our entrance into the

blessing is by fulfilling the responsibility. To say that I am

counting upon God to bring my children to Canaan, and yet all the

while educating them for Egypt, is a deadly delusion. My conduct

proves my profession to be a lie, and I am not to wonder if, in the

righteous dealings of God, I am allowed to be filled with the fruit of

my own doings. Conduct will ever prove the reality of our convictions;

and in this, as in every thing else, that word of the Lord is most

solemnly true, "If any man will do His will, he shall know of the

doctrine." We often want to know the doctrine before we do the will,

and the consequence is, we are left in the most profound ignorance.

Now, to do the will of God in reference to our children, is to treat

them as He does, by regarding them as part of ourselves, and training

them accordingly. It is not merely by hoping they may ultimately prove

to be the children of God, but by regarding them as those who are

already brought into a place of privilege, and dealing with them upon

this ground in reference to every thing. According to the thoughts and

actings of many parents, it would seem as though they regarded their

children in the light of heathens, who had no present interest in

Christ, or relationship to God at all. This is, assuredly, falling

grievously short of the divine mark. Nor is this a question, as it is

too often made, of infant or adult baptism. No; it is simply and

entirely a question of faith in the power and extent of that

peculiarly gracious word. "Thou and thy house"--a word the force and

beauty of which we shall see more and more fully as we proceed.

Throughout the book of Deuteronomy, the children of Israel are again

and again instructed to set the commandments, the statutes, the

judgments, and precepts of the law before their little ones; and these

same little ones are contemplated as inquiring into the nature and

object of various ordinances and institutions. The reader can easily

run through the various passages.

I now pass on to that truly memorable resolution of Joshua, "Choose

you this day whom ye will serve . . . . but as for me and my house, we

will serve the Lord." (Josh. xxiv. 15.) Observe, "Me and my house." He

felt it was not sufficient that he himself should be personally pure

from all contact with the defilements and abominations of idolatry; he

had also to look well to the moral character and practical condition

of his house. Though Joshua were not to worship idols, yet if his

children did so, would he be guiltless? Certainly not. Moreover, the

testimony of the truth would have been as effectually marred by the

idolatry of Joshua's house as by the idolatry of Joshua himself; and

judgment would have been executed accordingly. It is well to see this

distinctly. The opening of the first book of Samuel affords most

solemn demonstration of the truth of this--"And the Lord said to

Samuel, 'Behold, I will do a thing in Israel, at which both the ears

of every one that heareth it shall tingle. In that day I will perform

against Eli all things which I have spoken concerning _his house_:

when I begin, I will also make an end. For I have told him that I will

judge his house forever for the iniquity which he knoweth; BECAUSE HIS

SONS MADE THEMSELVES VILE AND HE RESTRAINED THEM NOT.'" (1 Sam. iii.

11-13.)

Here we see that no matter what the personal character of the servant

of God may be, yet if he fail in the due regulation of his house, God

will not hold him guiltless. Eli should have restrained his sons. It

was his privilege, as it is ours, to be able to count upon the

specific power of God in the subjugation of every element in his house

which was calculated to mar the testimony; but he did not do this, and

hence his terrible end was that he broke his neck about the house of

God, because he had not broken his heart about his own house. Had he

waited upon God about his willful sons--had he acted faithfully--had

he discharged the holy responsibilities devolving upon him, the house

of God would never have been desecrated, and the ark of God would not

have been taken. In a word, had he treated his house as part of

himself, and made it what it ought to be, he would not have called

down upon himself the heavy judgment of Him whose principle it is

never to separate the words, "_Thou and thy house_."

But how many parents have since trodden in Eli's footsteps! Through

an utterly false idea in reference to the entire basis and character

of parental relationship, they have allowed their children, from

infancy to boyhood, and from boyhood to manhood, in the unrestrained

indulgence of the will. Not having faith to take divine ground, they

have failed in moral power to take even the human ground of making

their children respect and obey them, and the issue has presented to

view the most fearful picture of lawless extravagance and wild

confusion. The highest object for the servant of God to set before him

in the management of his house is the testimony therein afforded to

the honor of Him to whose house he himself belongs. This is really the

proper ground of action. I must not seek to have my children in order

because it would be an annoyance and inconvenience to _me_ to have

them otherwise, but because the honor of God is concerned in the godly

order of the households of all those who form constituent parts of His

house.

Here, however, it may be objected that up to this point we have been

breathing only the atmosphere of Old-Testament scripture, and that the

principles and proofs have been only thence deduced; now, on the

contrary, God's principle of action is grace according to election,

and this leads to the calling out of a man, irrespective of all

domestic ties and relationships, so that you may find a godly,

devoted, heavenly-minded saint at the head of a most ungodly,

irregular, worldly family. I maintain, in opposition to this, that the

principles of God's moral government are eternal, and therefore,

whether developed in one age or another, they must be the same. He

cannot at one time teach that a man and his house are one, and commend

him for ruling it properly, and at another time teach that they are

not one, but permit him to rule his house as he pleases. This is

impossible. God's approval or disapproval of things flows out of what

He is in Himself; and in this matter in particular, inasmuch as God

rules His own house according to what He is Himself, He commands His

servants to rule their houses upon the same principle. Has the

dispensation of grace, or of Christianity, come in to upset this

lovely moral order? God forbid! Nay, it has rather, if possible, added

new traits of beauty thereto. Was the house of a Jew looked at as part

of himself, and shall the house of a Christian be different? Truly

not. It would be a sad abuse, and an anomalous application of that

heavenly word, "grace," to apply it to the misrule and demoralization

that prevail in the houses of numberless Christians of the present

day. Is it grace to allow the will to ride rampant? Is it grace to

have all the passions, tempers, whims, and appetites of a corrupt

nature indulged? Alas! call it not grace, lest our souls should lose

the real meaning of the word, and begin to imagine it to be what we

have called it. Call it by its proper names--a monstrous abuse--a

denial of God, not only as the Ruler of His own house, but as the

moral Administrator of the universe--a flagrant contradiction of all

the precepts of inspiration on this deeply important subject.

But let us turn to the New Testament and see if we cannot find in its

sacred pages ample proof of our thesis. Does the Holy Ghost, in this

grand section of His book, exclude a man's house from the privileges

and responsibilities attached thereto in the Old Testament? We shall

see very plainly that He does no such thing. Let us have the proofs.

In Christ's commission to His apostles, we find these words: "And into

whatsoever city or town ye shall enter, inquire who in it is worthy;

and there abide till ye go thence. And when ye come into a house,

salute it. And if the house [not merely the master] be worthy, let

your peace come upon _it_; but if it be not worthy, let your peace

return to you again." (Matt. x. 11-13.) Again, "And Jesus said unto

Zacchæus, 'This day is salvation come to _this house_, forasmuch as he

also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man is come to seek and to

save that which was lost.'" (Luke xix. 9, 10.) So in the case of

Cornelius--"Send men to Joppa, and call for Simon, whose surname is

Peter; who shall tell thee words whereby _thou and all thy house_

shall be saved." (Acts xi. 13, 14.) So also to the jailer at

Philippi--"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and _thou shalt be saved

and thy house_." (Acts xvi. 31.) Then we have the practical

result--"And when he had brought them into his house, he set meat

before them, and rejoiced, believing in God _with all his house_."

(Ver. 34.) In the same chapter, Lydia says, "If ye have judged me to

be faithful to the Lord, come into _my house_ and abide." (Ver. 15.)

"The Lord give mercy unto _the house_ of Onesiphorus." Why? was it

because of its actings toward him? No; but "because _he_ oft

refreshed me, and was not ashamed of my chain." (2 Tim. i. 16.) "A

bishop must be one that ruleth well his own house, having his children

in subjection with all gravity. For if a man know not how to rule his

own house, how shall he take care of the Church of God?"

Now, under the term "house," three things are included, viz., the

house itself, the children, and the servants. All these, whether taken

together or separately, should bear the distinct stamp of God. The

house of a man of God should be ruled for God, in His name and for His

glory. The head of a Christian household is the representative of God.

Whether as a father or as a master, he is to his household an

expression of the power of God; and he is bound to walk in the

intelligent recognition and practical development of this fact. It is

on this principle he is to provide for and govern the whole. Hence,

"if any provide not for his own house, he hath denied the faith, and

is worse than an infidel." By neglecting the sphere over which God has

set him, he proves his ignorance of and unlikeness to the One whom he

is called to represent. This is plain enough. If I want to know how I

am to provide for and rule my house, I have only carefully to study

the way in which God provides for and rules His house. This is the

true way to learn. Nor is it here a question as to the actual

conversion of the constituent parts of the household. Not at all. What

I desire to press upon all Christian heads of houses is, that the

whole affair, from one end to the other, should distinctly wear the

stamp of God's presence and God's authority,--that there should be a

clear acknowledgment of God on the part of every member. That every

thing should be so conducted as to elicit the confession, "_God is

here_;" and all this, not that the head of the house may be praised

for his moral influence and judicious management, but simply that God

may be glorified. This is not too much to aim at; yea, we should never

rest satisfied with any thing less. A Christian's house should be but

a miniature representation of the house of God, not so much in the

actual condition of individual members as in the moral order and godly

arrangement of the whole.

Some may shake their heads and say, This is all very fine, but where

will you get it? I only ask, Does the Word of God teach a Christian

man so to rule his house? If so, woe be to me if I refuse or fail to

do so. That there has been the most grievous failure in the management

of our houses every honest conscience must admit, but nothing can be

more shameful than for a man calmly and deliberately to sit down

satisfied with a disordered condition of his house because he cannot

attain to the standard which God has set before him. All I have to do

is to follow the line which Scripture has laid down, and the blessing

must assuredly follow, for God cannot deny Himself. But if I, in

unbelief of heart, say I cannot reach the blessing, of course I never

shall. Every field of blessing or privilege which God opens before us

demands an energy of faith to enter. Like Canaan of old to the

children of Israel; there it lay, but they had to go thither, for the

word was, "Every place that thy foot shall tread upon." Thus it is

ever. Faith takes possession of what God gives. We should aim at every

thing which tends to glorify Him who has made us all we are or ever

shall be.

But what can be more dishonoring to God than to see the house of His

servant the very reverse of what He would have it? And yet were we to

judge from what constantly meets our view, it would seem as if many

Christians thought that their houses had nothing whatever to do with

their testimony. Most humbling it is to meet with some who, so far as

they are personally concerned, seem nice Christians, but who entirely

fail in the management of their houses. They speak of separation from

the world, but their houses present the most distressingly worldly

appearance; they speak of the world being crucified to them and of

their being crucified to the world, and yet the world is stamped on

the very face of their whole establishment. Every thing seems designed

to minister to the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the

pride of life. Magnificent pier-glasses to reflect the flesh;

sumptuous carpets, sofas, and loungers for the ease of the flesh;

glittering chandeliers for the pride and vanity of the flesh. But it

may be said, It is taking low ground to descend to such particulars. I

reply, The daughters of Zion might just as well have passed the same

comment upon the following solemn appeal: "In that day the Lord will

take away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their feet,

and their cauls, and their round tires like the moon, the chains and

the bracelets and the mufflers, the bonnets and the ornaments of the

legs and the headbands and the tablets and the earrings, the rings and

nose-jewels, the changeable suits of apparel and the mantles and the

wimples and the crisping-pins, the glasses and the fine linen and the

hoods and the vails." (Isa. iii. 18-23.)

This was descending to very minute particulars. The same might be said

of the following passage from Amos: "Woe to them that are at ease in

Zion ... that lie upon beds of ivory, and stretch themselves upon

their couches, and eat the lambs out of the flock, and the calves out

of the midst of the stall; that chant to the sound of the viol, and

invent to themselves instruments of music, like David." (Chap. vi.

1-5.) The Spirit of God can descend to particulars when the

particulars are there to be descended to. But it may be further

objected, We must furnish our houses according to our rank in life.

Wherever this objection is urged, it reveals very fully the real

ground of the objector's soul. That ground is the world,

unquestionably. "_Our rank in life_"!--what does this really mean, as

applied to those who profess to be _dead_? To talk of our rank in life

is to deny the very foundations of Christianity. If we have rank in

life, then it follows that we must be alive as men in the flesh--men

according to nature, and then the law has its full force against us,

"for the law hath dominion over a man as long as he liveth." Hence

this rank in life becomes a serious matter.

But, let me ask, how did we get rank in life? or, in what life is it?

If it be in this life, then we are liars whenever we talk of being

"crucified with Christ"--"dead with Christ"--"buried with

Christ"--"risen with Christ"--"outside the camp with Christ"--"not in

the flesh"--"not of the world which fadeth away." All these are so

many splendid lies to those possessing, or pretending to, a rank in

this life. This is the real truth of the matter; and we must allow the

truth to reach and act upon our consciences, that it may influence our

lives. What, then, is the only life in which we have a rank? The

resurrection-life of Christ. Redeeming love has given us a rank in

this life, and truly we know that worldly furniture, costly array,

ridiculous parade and retinue, have nothing to do with rank in this

life. Ah, no; the circumstances which comport with rank in heavenly

life are, holiness of character, purity of life, spiritual power,

profound humility, separation from every thing which directly savors

of the flesh and the world. To furnish our persons and our houses with

these things would be furnishing them "according to our rank in life."

But in point of fact, this objection does really bring out the true

principle at the heart's core. It has already been remarked that the

house reveals the moral condition of the man, and this objection

confirms that statement. People who talk, or even think, of rank in

life have, "in their hearts, turned back again into Egypt." And what

does God say will be the end of such? "I will carry you away beyond

Babylon." Yes, it is greatly to be feared that the great millstone of

Revelation xviii. presents but too true a picture of the end of much

of the sickly, spurious, hollow Christianity of the present day.

It may, however, be further urged that Christianity affords no warrant

for filthy and irregular houses. This is most true. I know few things

more distressing and dishonoring than to see the house of a Christian

characterized by filth and confusion. Such things could never exist in

connection with a really spiritual or even a well-adjusted mind. You

may set it down that there must be something radically wrong wherever

such things exist. Here, in an especial manner, the house of God

presents itself before us as a blessed model. Over the door of that

house may be seen inscribed this wholesome motto: "Let all things be

done decently and in order;" and all who love God and His house will

desire to carry out this precept at home.

The next point suggested by the expression, "Thou and thy house," is

the management of our children. This is a sore and deeply humbling

point to many of us, inasmuch as it discloses a fearful amount of

failure. The condition of the children tends, more than any thing, to

bring out the condition of the parent. The real measure of my

surrender of the world, and my subjugation of nature, will constantly

be shown in my thoughts about and treatment of my children. I profess

to have given up the world, so far as I am personally concerned; but

then I have children. Have I given up the world for them as well? Some

may say, How can I? They are in nature, and must have the world. Here

again the true moral condition of the heart is revealed. The world is

really not given up, and my children are made an excuse for grasping

again what I professed to have given up, but my heart retained all the

while. Are my children part of myself, or are they not? Part of

myself, assuredly. Well, then, if I profess to have relinquished the

world for myself and yet am seeking it for them, what is it but the

wretched anomaly of a man half in Egypt and half in Canaan? We know

where such an one is wholly and in reality. He is wholly and really in

Egypt. Yes, my brethren, here is where we have to judge ourselves. Our

children tell a tale. The music-master and the dancing-master are

surely not the agents which the Spirit of God would select to help our

children along, nor do they, by any means, comport with that

high-toned Nazariteship to which we are called. These things prove

that Christ is not the chosen and amply sufficient portion of our

souls. What is sufficient for me is sufficient for those who are part

of me. And shall I be so base as to train my children for the devil

and the world? Shall I minister to and pamper that in them which I

profess to mortify in myself? It is a grievous mistake, and we shall

find it so. If my children are in Egypt, I am there myself. If my

children savor of Babylon, I savor of it myself. If my children belong

to a corrupt worldly religious system, I belong to it myself, in

principle. "Thou and thy house" are one; God has made them one; and

"what He has joined together, let no man put asunder."

This is a solemn and searching truth, in the light of which we may

clearly see the evil of urging our children along a path upon which we

profess to have forever turned our backs, as believing firmly that it

terminates in hell fire. We profess to count the world's literature,

its honors, its riches, its distinctions, its pleasures, all "dung and

dross," yet these very things, which we have declared to be only

hindrances to us in our Christian course, and which, as such, we have

professed to cast aside, we are diligently setting before our children

as things perfectly essential to their progress. In so doing, we

entirely forget that things which act as clogs to us cannot possibly

act as helps to our children.[12] It were infinitely better to throw

off the mask, and declare plainly that we have not given up the world

at all; and nothing ever made this thoroughly manifest but our

children. The Lord, I believe, in righteous judgment, is taking up the

families of brethren, to show in them the actual condition of the

testimony amongst us. In many cases it is well known that the children

of Christians are the wildest and most ungodly in the neighborhood.

Should this be so? Would God accept a testimony at the hand of those

who have it so? Would it be thus if we were walking faithfully before

God as to our houses? These inquiries must be answered in the

negative. If only I get the principle of "Thou and thy house" firmly

fixed in my conscience, and intelligently wrought into my mind, I

shall see it to be my place to count upon God, and cry to Him, just as

much for the testimony of my house as for my own testimony. In

reality, I cannot separate them. I may attempt it, but it is vain. How

often has one felt a pang at hearing such words as these: "Such an one

is a very dear, godly, devoted brother; but, oh! he has the boldest

and wildest children in the neighborhood, and his house is a sad mess

of misrule and confusion." I ask, what is the testimony of such an one

worth in the judgment of God? Little indeed. Saved he may be; but is

salvation all we want? Is there no testimony to be given? and if there

is, what is it? and where is it to be seen? Is it confined to the

benches of a meeting-room, or is it to be seen in the midst of a man's

house? The heart can answer.

[12] The Christian parent may ask, What am I to teach my child? The

answer is simple. Teach him only such things as will prove useful to

him as a servant of Christ. Do not teach him aught which you know

would prove a positive source of defilement or weakness to him should

he remain here. We are seldom at a loss to know what kind of food to

give our children. We are tolerably well aware of what would prove

nourishing and what would prove the reverse. Now, were the instincts

of the new nature as true and as energetic in us as those of the old,

we should, I am persuaded, be at as little loss to decide in reference

to what we should teach our children. In this, as in every thing else,

it may be said, "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full

of light." If we have a deep sense of Christ's glory, and a sincere

desire to promote it, we shall not be left in perplexity; but if our

body is not "full of light," we may be assured our "eye" is not

"single."

But it may be urged, Our children will crave a little worldly

enjoyment, and we must indulge them. We cannot put old heads upon

young shoulders. I reply, Our own hearts often crave a little of the

world likewise. Shall we indulge their craving? No; but judge it.

Exactly so. Do the same in reference to your children's craving. If I

find my children going out after the world, I should immediately

judge and chasten myself before God, crying to Him to enable me to put

it down, so that the testimony may not suffer. But I cannot but

believe that if the parent's heart is, from its centre to its

circumference, purged of the world, its principles, and its lusts, it

will exert a mighty influence upon his whole house. This is what makes

this entire question one of such vast magnitude and practical weight.

Is my house a just criterion by which to judge of my real condition? I

believe the whole teaching of Scripture is in favor of an affirmative.

This makes the matter peculiarly solemn. How am I walking before my

family? Is my whole course and character so unequivocal that all can

see that my one supreme object is Christ, and that I would just as

soon, if I could, unlock the portals of hell, and let my children in,

as educate them for the world, or seek the world for them?

This I feel to be a startling inquiry; yet it is one which we are

bound to follow up to the uttermost. What has called into existence,

in many cases, that awful profanity, that disposition to scoff at

sacred things, that utter distaste for the Scriptures, and for

meetings where the Scriptures are brought forward, that skeptical and

infidel spirit so sadly apparent in the children of Christian

professors? Will any one undertake to say that the parents have

nothing to do with this, in the judgment of God? May not much of this

be justly traced to the sad incongruity between the professed

principles and the actual practices of the parents? I believe it may.

Children are shrewd observers. They very soon begin to discover what

their parents are really at. They will gather this, too, much more

speedily and accurately from their _doings_ than from their _prayings_

or their _sayings_; and although the parents may teach that the world

and its ways are bad, and though they may pray that their children may

know the Lord, yet inasmuch as they are educating them for the world,

and seeking most industriously to push them on in it, grasping at and

getting in by every opening, and congratulating themselves when they

have succeeded in settling them there, it necessarily follows that the

children begin to say in their hearts, "The world is a good place

after all, for my parents thank God on getting me a berth in it, and

look upon it as a most marked opening of Providence. All that peculiar

talk of theirs, therefore, about being dead to the world, and being

risen with Christ--the world's being under judgment, and their being

strangers and pilgrims therein--all this must be rank nonsense, or

else Christians, so called, must be rank deceivers." Will any one say

that such reasoning as this has not passed through the mind of many a

professor's child? I cannot doubt it. The grace of God, no doubt, is

sovereign, and often triumphs over all our errors and failures; but

oh! let us think of the testimony, and let us see that our houses are

really ordered for God and not for Satan.[13]

[13] I would, however, desire to remind the children of Christian

parents that they are solemnly responsible to hearken to God's holy

word, quite irrespective of the conduct of their parents. God's truth

is not affected by the actings of men; and wherever one has heard the

testimony of God's love, in the death and resurrection of Christ, he

is responsible for the use he makes thereof, even though he should not

have seen its sacred influence and power exemplified in the life of

his parents. I would press these facts upon the serious attention of

all children of Christian parents.

But it will be said, How are our children to get on? must they not

earn their bread? Unquestionably. God formed us for work. The very

fact of my having a pair of hands proves that I am not to be idle. But

I need not push my son back into that world which I have left, in

order to give him employment. The Most High God, the Possessor of

heaven and earth, had one Son, His only begotten, the Heir of all

things, by whom also He made the worlds; He did not take up any of the

learned professions, but was known as "the carpenter." Has this no

voice for us? Christ has gone up on high and taken His seat at God's

right hand. As thus risen, He is our Head, Representative, and Model;

but He has left us an example that we should follow His steps. Are we

following His steps in seeking to push our children on in that very

world which crucified Him? Surely not: we are adopting the very

opposite course, and the end will be accordingly. "Be not deceived;

God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also

reap." As we sow, in reference to our children, so shall we also reap.

If we sow to the flesh and the world, we cannot expect to reap

otherwise. But I would not, by any means, be understood to teach that

a Christian parent ought to place his child below the level on which

the Lord has placed himself. I do not believe he would be warranted in

so doing. If my calling be a godly one, it may suit my child as well

as it suits myself. All cannot be carpenters, it is true; yet one

feels that, in an age of progress like the present, where "onward and

upward in the world" seems to be the great motto, there is a deep

moral for the heart in the fact that the Son of God--the Creator and

Sustainer of the universe--was only known amongst men as "the

carpenter." It assuredly teaches that Christians should not be found

seeking "great things" for their children.

However, it is not merely in reference to the object set forth in our

children's education that we have failed, and so marred the testimony;

but also in the matter of keeping them in general subjection to

parental authority. On this point there has been great deficiency

amongst Christian parents. The spirit of the present age is that of

insubordination. "Disobedient to parents" forms a trait in the

apostasy of the last days; and we have specially helped on its

development by an entirely false application of the principle of

grace, as also by not seeing that there is involved in the parental

relationship a principle of power exercised in righteousness, without

which our houses must prove to be scenes of lawlessness and wild

confusion. It is no grace to pamper an unsanctified will. We mourn

over our own lack of a broken will, and yet we are strengthening the

will in our children. It is always, to my mind, a manifest proof of

the weakness of parental authority, as well as of ignorance of the way

in which the servant of God should rule his house, to hear a parent

say to a child, "_Will_ you do so and so?" This question, simple as it

seems, tends directly to create or minister to the very thing which

you ought to put down, by every means in your power, and that is, the

exercise of the child's _will_. Instead, therefore, of asking the

child, "Will you do?" just tell him what he is to do, and let there

not be in his mind the idea of calling in question your authority. The

parent's will should be supreme with a child, because the parent

stands in the place of God. All power belongs to God, and He has

invested His servant with power, both as a father and a master. If,

therefore, the child or the servant resist this power, it is

resistance of God.[14]

[14] "And ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath; but bring

them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." (Eph. vi. 4.)

There is great danger of provoking our children to wrath by inordinate

strictness and arbitrary treatment. We may constantly find ourselves

seeking to mould and fashion our children according to our own tastes

and peculiarities, rather than to "bring them up in the nurture and

admonition of the Lord." This is a very great mistake, and will surely

issue in failure and confusion. We shall gain nothing, in the way of

testimony for Christ, by moulding and fashioning nature into the most

exquisite shapes. Moreover, it does not require faith to train and

cultivate nature; but it does require it to bring up in the nurture

and admonition of the Lord.

Some, however, may say that the apostle, in the above passage, is

speaking of converted children. To this I reply, that there is nothing

about conversion in the passage. It is not said, Bring up your

converted children, etc. Were it thus, it would settle the whole

question. But it is simply said, "_your children_," which surely must

mean _all_ our children. Now, if I am to bring up all my children in

the nurture and admonition of the Lord, when am I to commence? Am I to

wait till they grow up to be almost men and women? or am I to begin

where all right minded people begin their work, namely, at the

_beginning_? Am I to allow them to run on in nature's folly and

wildness, during the most important part of their career, without ever

seeking to bring their consciences into the presence of God, as to

their solemn responsibilities? Am I to suffer them to spend in utter

thoughtlessness that period of life in which the elements of their

future character are imparted? This would be the most refined cruelty.

What should we say to a gardener who would allow the branches of his

fruit-trees to assume all sorts of crooked and fantastic shapes ere he

thought of commencing a proper system of training? We should doubtless

pronounce him a fool and a madman. And yet such an one is wise in

comparison with a parent who suspends the nurture and admonition of

the Lord until his children have made manifest progress in the nurture

and admonition of the enemy.

But, it may be said, we must wait for evidences of conversion. To this

I reply, that faith never waits for evidences, but acts on God's word,

and the evidences are sure to follow. It is always a manifest proof of

infidelity to wait for signs when God gives a command. If Israel had

waited for a sign when God said, "Go forward," it would have been

plain disobedience; and if the man with the withered hand had waited

for some evidence of strength when Christ commanded him to stretch

forth his hand, he might have carried his withered hand to the grave

with him. So is it with parents. If they wait for signs and evidences

before they obey God's word in Ephesians vi. 4, they are certainly not

walking by faith, but by sight. Besides, if we are to begin at the

beginning to train our children, we must evidently begin before they

are capable of giving what we might regard as evidences of conversion.

In this, as in every thing else, our place is to obey, and leave

results with God. The moral condition of the soul may be tested by the

command; but where there is the disposition to obey, the power to do

so will surely accompany the command, and the fruits of obedience will

follow "_in due season, if we faint not_."

"Let as many servants as are under the yoke count their own masters

worthy of all honor, that the name of _God_ and His doctrine be not

blasphemed." Observe, it is "God and His doctrine." Why? Because it is

a question of power. The name of Christ and His doctrine would put the

master and servant on a level, as members of one body. In Christ Jesus

there is no distinction; but when I go abroad in the world, I

encounter God's moral government, which makes one a master and another

a servant; and any infringement upon that government will meet with

certain judgment.

Now, it is of immense importance to have a clear understanding of the

doctrine of God's moral government. It would settle many a difficulty,

and solve many a question. This government is carried on with a

righteous decision, which is peculiarly solemnizing. If we look

through Scripture in reference to this subject, we shall find that in

every instance in which there has been error or failure, it has

inevitably produced its own results. Adam took of the forbidden fruit,

and he was instantly thrust forth from the garden, into a world

groaning beneath the curse and weight of his sin. Nor was he ever

replaced in paradise. True, grace came in, and gave him a promise of a

Deliverer; moreover, it clothed his naked shoulders. Nevertheless, his

sin produced its own result. He made a false step, and he never

recovered it. Again, Moses, at the waters of Meribah, uttered a hasty

word, and immediately a righteous God forbad his entrance into Canaan.

In his case likewise grace came in, and gave him something better; for

it was much better, from the top of Pisgah, to inspect the plains of

Palestine in company with Jehovah than to inhabit them in company with

Israel. So also in David's case. He committed a sin, and the solemn

denunciation was immediately issued, "The sword shall never depart

from thy house." In his case too grace abounded, and he enjoyed a more

profound sense of grace as he ascended the side of Mount Olivet with

bare feet and covered head than he ever had enjoyed amid the splendors

of a throne; nevertheless, his sin produced its own result. He made a

false step, and he never recovered it.

Nor is the exemplification of this principle confined merely to

Old-Testament times. By no means. Look at the case of Barnabas. He

gave utterance to the seemingly amiable desire to have the company of

his nephew Mark, and, from that moment, he loses his honorable place

in the records of the Holy Ghost. He is never heard of afterward, and

his place was supplied with a more wholly devoted heart.[15] Hence

God's moral government is a most momentous truth. It is such, that as

surely as one does wrong, he will reap the fruit of it, no matter who

he is--believer or unbeliever, saint or sinner. Grace may forgive the

sin, and will, where it is confessed and judged; but inasmuch as the

principles of God's moral government have been interfered with, the

offender must be made to feel his mistake. He has missed a step of the

wheel, and he shall assuredly feel the consequences. This is a most

solemn but specially wholesome truth, the action of which has been

sadly clogged by false notions about grace. God never allows His grace

to interfere with His moral government. He could not do so, because it

would produce confusion, and "God is not the author of confusion."

[15] It was nature in Barnabas that led him to wish for the company of

one who "departed from them from Pamphylia, and went not with them to

the work." It was amiable nature, yet it was nature, and it triumphed,

for he took Mark and sailed to Cyprus, his native country, where, in

the freshness of his Christian course, he had sold his property, in

order to be a more unshackled follower of Him who had not where to lay

His head. (See Acts iv. 36, 37.) This is no uncommon case. Many set

out with a surrender of earth and nature with their respective claims.

The blossom on the tree of Christian profession looks fair, and emits

a fragrant perfume; but alas! it is not followed by the rich and

mellow fruit of autumn. The influences of earth and nature gather

around the soul, and nip its beauteous blossoms, and all ends in

barrenness and disappointment. This is very sad, and is always

attended with the very worst moral effect upon the testimony. It is

not at all a question of ceasing to be a saved person. Barnabas was a

saved person. The influences of Mark and Cyprus could not blot out his

name from the Lamb's book of life, but they did most thoroughly blot

out his name from the records of testimony and service here below. And

was not this something to be lamented? Is there naught to be deplored

or dreaded save the loss of personal salvation? Most despicable is the

selfishness that can think so. For what purpose does the blessed God

take so much pains and trouble in maintaining His people here? Is it

that they may be saved and made meet for glory? No such thing. Saved

they are already, by the accomplished redemption of Christ, and

therefore meet for glory. There is no middle step between

justification and glory, for "whom He justified, them He also

glorified." Why, therefore, does God leave us here? That we may be a

testimony for Christ. Were it not for this, we might just as well be

taken to heaven the moment of our conversion. May we have grace to

understand this point, in all its fullness and practical power.

It is here there has been so much failure in the management of our

houses. We have forgotten the principle of righteous rule which God

has set before us, and in the exercise of which He has given us an

example. My reader must not confound the principle of God's government

with the aspect of His character.[16] These two things are distinct.

The former is righteousness, the latter is grace; but what I here

desire to bring out is, the fact that there is a principle of

righteousness involved in the relationship of father and master, and

if this principle receive not its due place in the management of the

family, there must be confusion. If I see a _strange_ child doing

wrong, I have no divine authority to exercise righteous discipline

toward him; but the moment I see my own child doing so, I put him

under discipline. Why? because I am his father. But it may be said,

The parental relationship is one of love. True; it is founded in love:

"Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we

should be called the sons of God." But although the relationship is

founded in love, it is exercised in righteousness, for "the time is

come when judgment must begin at the house of God." So also, in

Hebrews xii, we are taught that the very fact of our being genuine

sons brings us under the righteous discipline of the Father's hand. In

John xvii, too, the Church is committed to the care of the Holy

Father, to be kept by Him through His own name.

[16] The epistles of Peter develop the doctrine of God's moral

government. He it is who asks the question, "Who is he that will harm

you, if ye be followers of that which is good?" Now, some may find a

difficulty in reconciling this inquiry with Paul's statement, "All

that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." It

were needless to say that the two ideas are in perfect and beautiful

harmony. The Lord Jesus Himself, who was the only perfect and

unwavering follower of that which is good, who, from first to last,

"went about doing good," found, in the end, the cross, the spear, the

borrowed grave. The apostle Paul, who, beyond all other men, kept

close to the Great Original which was set before him, was called to

drink an unusually large cup of privation and persecution. And to this

moment, the more like Christ, and the more devoted to Him any one is,

the more privation and persecution he will suffer. Were any one, in

true devotedness to Christ and love to souls, to take his stand

publicly in some Roman Catholic district, and there preach Christ, his

life would be in imminent danger. Do all these facts interfere with

Peter's inquiry? By no means. The direct tendency of God's moral

government is to protect from injury all who are "followers of that

which is good," and to bring down punishment upon all who are the

reverse; but it never interferes with the higher path of ardent

discipleship, or deprives any one of the privilege and dignity of

being as like Christ as he will; "for unto you _it is given_, on

behalf of Christ [το υπερ Χριστου], not only to believe on Him,

but also to suffer for Him [υπερ αυτου]; having the same conflict

which ye saw in me, and now hear in me." (Phil. i. 29, 30.) Here we are

taught that it is an actual gift conferred upon us to be allowed to

suffer for Christ, and this in the midst of a scene in which, on the

ground of God's moral government, it can be said, "Who is he that will

harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?" To recognize and

be a subject of God's government is one thing, and to be a follower of

a rejected and crucified Christ is quite another. Even in Peter's

epistle, which, as we have remarked, has as its special theme the

doctrine of God's government, we read, "But if, doing well and

suffering for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable to God. For

unto this were ye called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving

us an example, that we should follow His steps." And again, "If any

suffer _as a Christian_ [from being morally like Christ], let him not

be ashamed; but let him glorify God in this matter."

Now, in every case in which this great truth has been lost sight of by

Christian parents, their houses have been thrown into confusion. They

have not governed their children, and as a consequence, their children

have, in process of time, governed them, for there will be government

somewhere; and if those into whose hands God has put the reins do not

hold them properly, they will speedily fall into bad hands; and can

there be a more melancholy sight than to see parents governed by their

children? I believe, in God's sight, it presents a fearful moral blot,

which must bring down His judgment. A parent who lets the reins of

government drop from his hands, or who does not hold them steadily,

has grievously failed in his high and holy position as the

representative of God, and the depositary of His power; nor do I

believe that any one so failing can ever thoroughly regain his place,

or be a proper witness for God in his day and generation. A subject of

grace he may be; but then, a subject of grace and a witness for God

are two widely different things. This will account for the sorrowful

condition of many brethren. They have utterly failed to govern their

houses, and hence they have lost their true position and moral

influence--their energies are paralyzed, their mouths closed, their

testimony hushed; and if such do lift the voice in some feeble way,

the finger of scorn is instantly pointed at their families, and this

cannot but send a blush to the cheek and a pang to the conscience.

Nor do people always take a correct view of this matter, and trace the

failure up to its legitimate source. Many are too ready to look upon

it as a natural and necessary thing that their children are to grow up

willful and worldly. They say, It is all very well while your children

are young, but wait till they grow older, and you will see that you

must let them go into the world. Now, I want to know, is it the mind

of God that the children of His servants must necessarily grow up

willful and worldly? I never could believe any such thing. Well, then,

if it be not His mind that they should so grow up,--if He has

graciously opened the same path to my house as He has opened to

myself,--if He has permitted me to select the same portion for my

children as I have, through His grace, selected for myself,--if, after

all this, my children grow up willful and worldly, what am I to infer?

Why, that I have grievously sinned and failed in my parental

relationship and responsibilities--that I have wronged my children and

dishonored the Lord. Shall I go and make a general principle of this,

and set it down that all the children of Christians must grow up as

mine have? Shall I go and discourage young parents from taking God's

ground in reference to their dear children, by setting before them my

abominable failure, instead of encouraging them by setting before them

God's infallible faithfulness to all who seek Him in the way of His

appointment? To act thus would be to follow in the steps of the old

prophet of Bethel, who, because he was in the midst of evil himself,

sought to drag his brother in also, and had him slain by a lion for

disobeying the word of the Lord.

But the sum of the matter is this: The willfulness of my children

reveals the willfulness of my own heart, and a righteous God is using

them to chasten me, because I have not chastened myself. This is a

peculiarly solemn view of the case, and one that calls for deep

searching of heart. To save myself trouble, I have let things take

their course in my family, and now my children have grown up around me

to be thorns in my side, because I trained them not for God. This is

the history of thousands. We should ever bear in mind that our

children, as well as ourselves, should be "set for the defense and

confirmation of the gospel." I feel persuaded that, could we only be

led to regard our houses as a testimony for God, it would produce an

immense reformation in our mode of ruling them. We should then seek a

high tone of moral order, not that we might be spared any trouble or

vexation, but rather that the testimony might not suffer through any

confusion in our families. But let us not forget, that in order to

subdue nature in our children, we must subdue it in ourselves. We can

never subdue nature by nature. It is only as we have crushed it in

ourselves that we are in a position to crush it in our children.

Moreover, there must be the clearest understanding and the fullest

harmony between the father and mother. Their voice, their will, their

authority, their influence, should be essentially one--one in the

strictest sense of that word. Being themselves "no more twain, but one

flesh," they should ever appear before their children in the beauty

and power of that oneness. In order to this, they must wait much upon

God together--they must be much in His presence, opening up all their

hearts, and telling out all their need. Christians do frequently

injure one another in this respect. It sometimes happens that one

partner really desires to give up the world and subdue nature to an

extent for which the other is not prepared, and this produces sad

results. It sometimes leads to reserve, to shuffling, to management

and generalship, to positive antagonism in the views and principles of

husband and wife, so that they cannot really be said to be joined in

the Lord. The effect of all this upon the children as they grow up is

pernicious beyond all conception; and the influence which it exerts in

deranging the entire house is quite incalculable. What the father

commands, the mother remits; what the father builds up, the mother

pulls down. Sometimes the father is represented as stern, severe,

arbitrary, and exacting. The maternal influence acts outside and

independent of the paternal; sometimes, even, it sets it aside

altogether; so that the father's position becomes wretched in the

extreme, and the whole family presents a most demoralized and ungodly

appearance.[17] This is terrible. Children never could be properly

trained under such circumstances; and as to testimony for Christ, the

bare thought of it is monstrous. Wherever such a state of things

prevails, there should be the deepest sorrow of heart before the Lord

on account of it. His mercy is exhaustless, and His tender compassions

fail not; and surely we may hope that, where there is true contrition

and confession, God will graciously come in with healing and

restoration. One thing is certain, that we should not go on content to

have things so; therefore, let the one who feels the sorrow of heart

cry mightily to God, day and night--cry to Him on the ground of His

own truth and name, which are blasphemed by such things; and, be

assured, He will hear and answer.

[17] Nothing can be more melancholy than to hear a mother say to a

child, "We must not let your father know any thing about this." Where

such a course of reserve and double dealing is adopted, there must be

something radically and awfully wrong, and it is a moral impossibility

that any thing like godly order can prevail, or right discipline be

carried out. Either the father must, by inordinate severity or

unwarrantable strictness, be "provoking his children to wrath," or the

mother must be pampering the child's will at the expense of the

father's character and authority. In either case, there is an

effectual barrier to the testimony, and the children suffer grievous

injury. Hence, Christian parents should see well to it that they

always appear before their children, and also before their servants,

in the power of that unity which flows from their being perfectly

joined together in the Lord. If, unhappily, any shade of difference

should arise in reference to the details of domestic government, let

it be made a matter of private conference, prayer, and self-judgment

in the presence of God; but never let the subjects of government see

such a manifest proof of moral weakness, for it will surely cause them

to despise the government.

_But let all be viewed in the light of testimony for God's Son._ It is

to further this we are left here. We are surely not left here merely

to bring up families. We are left here to bring them up for God, with

God, by God, and before God. To do all this, we must be much in His

presence. A Christian parent should take great care not to punish his

children merely to gratify his whims and tempers. He is to represent

God in the midst of his family. This, when properly understood, will

regulate every thing. He is God's steward, likewise, and in order

rightly and intelligently to discharge the functions of his

stewardship, he must have frequent--yea, unbroken--intercourse with

his Master. He must be constantly betaking himself to His feet, to

know what he is to do, and how he is to do it. This will make every

thing easy and happy. It is often the desire of one's heart to get an

abstract rule for this, that, and the other thing, in the details of

family arrangement. One may ask what sort of punishments, what sort of

rewards, what sort of amusements, should a Christian parent adopt.

Actual punishment will, I believe, rarely be called for, if the divine

principle of government be carried out from the earliest date; and as

to rewards, it would be better to put them in the light of expressions

of love and approval. A child must be obedient--unqualifiedly and

unhesitatingly obedient--not to get a reward, which is apt to feed

emulation, a fruit of the flesh; but because God would have him so;

and then, of course, it is quite allowable for the parent to express

his approval in the shape of some little present. As to amusement, let

it always, if possible, assume the character of some useful

occupation. This is most salutary. It is a bad thing to cherish the

thought in the mind of a child that painted toys and gilded baubles

minister pleasure. With very young children, I have constantly found

that they derived more real, and certainly much more simple pleasure

from a piece of stick or paper made out by themselves, than from the

most expensive toy. Finally, let us, in all things, whether

punishment, reward, or amusement, keep the eye on Christ, and

earnestly seek the subjugation of the flesh in every shape and form.

So shall our houses be a testimony for God, and all who enter them be

constrained to say, "GOD IS HERE."

As to the management of servants in a Christian household, the

principle is equally simple. The master, as the head of the house, is

the expression of the power of God, and as such, he must insist upon

subjection and obedience. It is not a question of the Christianity of

the servants, but simply of the order which should ever be maintained

in a Christian household. Here, too, we must be on our guard against

the mere indulgence of our own arbitrary temper. We have to remember

that we have a Master in heaven, who has taught us to "give unto our

servants that which is just and equal." If only we set the Lord before

us from day to day, and seek to exhibit Him in all our dealings with

our servants, we shall be kept from error on every side.

I must now close. I have not written, the Lord knows, to wound anyone.

I feel the truth, importance, and deep solemnity of the points here

put forward, and also my own lack of ability to bring them out with

sufficient distinctness and power. However, I look to God to make them

influential; and where He works, the very weakest agency will answer

His end. To Him I now commend these pages, which have, I trust, been

begun, continued, and ended in His holy presence. The thought has

comforted me not a little, that at the very moment in which it was

laid on my conscience to prepare this paper, a number of beloved

brethren were actually assembled for humiliation, confession, and

prayer, in immediate connection with the testimony of God's Son in

these last days. I doubt not that a very leading point of confession

has been failure in the government of the house; and if these pages

should be used of God's Spirit to produce, even in one conscience, a

deeper sense of this failure, and in one heart, a more earnest desire

to meet the failure in God's own way, I shall rejoice, and feel I have

not written in vain.

May God Almighty, in His great grace, produce, by His Holy Spirit, in

the hearts of all His beloved saints, a more ardent purpose of soul to

raise, in this closing hour, a fuller, brighter, more vigorous and

decided testimony for Christ, that so, ere the shout of the archangel

and the trump of God are heard in the air, there may be a people

prepared to meet and welcome the heavenly Bridegroom.

_C. H. M._

DISCIPLESHIP IN AN EVIL DAY

The first three chapters of the Book of Daniel furnish a most

seasonable and important lesson at a time like the present, in which

the disciple is in such danger of yielding to surrounding influences,

and of lowering his standard of testimony and his tone of

discipleship, in order to meet the existing condition of things.

At the opening of chapter i. we have a most discouraging picture of

the state of things, in reference to the ostensible witness of God on

the earth. "In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim, king of

Judah, came Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, unto Jerusalem, and

besieged it. And the Lord gave Jehoiakim, king of Judah, into his

hand, with part of the vessels of the house of God, which he carried

into the land of Shinar, to the house of his god; and he brought the

vessels into the house of his god." (Chap. i. 1, 2.) Here then we have

an aspect of things quite sufficient, if looked at from nature's point

of view, to discourage the heart, to damp the spirit, and paralyse the

energies. Jerusalem in ruins, the temple trodden down, the Lord's

vessels in the house of a false god, and Judah carried away captive.

Surely the heart would feel disposed to say, There is no use in

seeking to hold up the standard of practical discipleship and personal

devotedness any longer. The spirit must droop, the heart must faint,

and the hands must hang down, when such is the condition of the people

of God. It could be nought but the greatest presumption for any of

Judah's sons to think of taking up true Nazarite's position at such a

time.

Such would be nature's reasoning; but such was not the language of

faith. Blessed be God! there is always a wide sphere in which the

spirit of genuine devotedness can develop itself--there is always a

path along which the true disciple can run, even though he should have

to run in solitude. It matters not what the outward condition of

things may be, it is faith's privilege to hang as much on God, to feed

as much on Christ, and to breathe as much of the air of heaven, as

though all were in perfect order and harmony.

This is an unspeakable mercy to the faithful heart. All who desire to

walk devotedly can always find a path to walk in; whereas, on the

contrary, the man who draws a plea, from outward circumstances, for

relaxing his energy, would not be energetic, though most favorably

situated.

If ever there was a time in which one might be excused for taking a

low ground, it was the time of the Babylonish captivity. The entire

framework of Judaism was broken up; the kingly power had passed out of

the hand of David's successor, and into the hand of Nebuchadnezzar;

the glory had departed from Israel; and, in one word, all seemed

faded and gone, and nought remained for the exiled children of Judah,

save to hang their harps upon the willows, and sit down by the rivers

of Babylon, there to weep over departed glory, faded light, and fallen

greatness.

Such would be the language of blind unbelief; but, blessed be God! it

is when everything appears sunk to the lowest possible point, that

then faith rises in holy triumph; and faith, we know, is the only true

basis of effective discipleship. It asks for no props from the men and

things around it; it finds "_all_ its springs" in God; and hence it is

that faith never shines so brightly as when all around is dark. It is

when nature's horizon is overcast with the blackest clouds, that faith

basks in the sunshine of the divine favor and faithfulness.

Thus it was that Daniel and his companions were enabled to overcome

the peculiar difficulties of their time. They judged that there was

nothing to hinder their enjoying as elevated a Nazariteship in Babylon

as ever had been known in Jerusalem; and they judged rightly. Their

judgment was the judgment of a pure and well-founded faith. It was the

selfsame judgment on which the Baraks, the Gideons, the Jephthahs, and

the Samsons of old had acted. It was the judgment to which Jonathan

gave utterance, when he said, "There is no restraint with the Lord to

save by many or by few." (1 Sam. xiv.) It was the judgment of David,

in the valley of Elah, when he called the poor trembling host of

Israel "the army of the living God." (1 Sam. xvii.) It was the

judgment of Elijah, on Mount Carmel, when he built an altar with

"twelve stones according to the number of the tribes of the sons of

Jacob." (1 Kings xviii.) It was the judgment of Daniel himself when,

at a further stage of his history, he opened his window and prayed

toward Jerusalem. (Dan. vi.) It was the judgment of Paul when, in view

of the overwhelming tide of apostasy and corruption which was about to

set in, he exhorts his son Timothy to "hold fast the form of sound

words." (2 Tim. i. 13.) It was the judgment of Peter when, in prospect

of the dissolution of the entire framework of creation, he encourages

believers to "be diligent, that they be found of him in peace, without

spot and blameless." (2 Peter iii. 14.) It was the judgment of John

when, amid the actual breaking up of everything ecclesiastical, he

exhorts his well-beloved Gaius to "follow not that which is evil, but

that which is good." (3 John 11.) And it was the judgment of Jude

when, in the presence of the most appalling wickedness, he encourages

a beloved remnant to "build themselves up in their most holy faith,

praying in the Holy Ghost, to keep themselves in the love of God,

looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."

(Jude 20, 21.) In one word, it was the judgment of the Holy Ghost,

and, therefore, it was the judgment of faith.

Now, all this attaches immense value and interest to Daniel's

determination, as expressed in the first chapter of this book. "But

Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with

the portion of the king's meat, nor with the wine which he drank;

therefore he requested of the prince of the eunuchs that he might not

defile himself." (Ver. 8.) He might, very naturally, have said to

himself, "There is no use in one poor feeble captive seeking to

maintain a place of separation. Everything is broken up. It is

impossible to carry out the true spirit of a Nazarite amid such

hopeless ruin and degradation. I may as well accommodate myself to the

condition of things around me."

But no; Daniel was on higher ground than this. He knew it was his

privilege to live as close to God in the palace of Nebuchadnezzar, as

within the gates of Jerusalem. He knew that, let the outward condition

of the people of God be what it might, there was a path of purity and

devotedness opened to the individual saint, which he could pursue

independently of everything.

And may we not say, that the Nazariteship of Babylon possesses charms

and attractions fully as powerful as the Nazariteship of Canaan?

Unquestionably. It is unspeakably precious and beautiful, to find one

of the captives in Babylon breathing after, and attaining unto, so

elevated a standard of separation. It teaches a powerful lesson for

every age. It holds up to the view of believers, under every

dispensation, a most encouraging and soul-stirring example. It proves

that, amid the darkest shades, a devoted heart can enjoy a path of

cloudless sunshine.

But how is this? Because "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day,

and forever." (Heb. xiii.) Dispensations change and pass away.

Ecclesiastical institutions crumble and moulder into ashes. Human

systems totter and fall; but the name of Jehovah endureth forever, and

His memorial unto all generations. It is upon this holy elevation that

faith plants its foot. It rises above all vicissitude, and enjoys

sweet converse with the unchangeable and eternal Source of all real

good.

Thus it was that, in the days of the judges, individual faith was

manifested and achieved more glorious triumphs than ever were known in

the days of Joshua. Thus it was that Elijah's altar on Mount Carmel

was surrounded by a halo fully as bright as that which crowned the

altar of Solomon.

This is truly encouraging. The poor heart is so apt to sink, and be

discouraged, by looking at the failure and unfaithfulness of man,

instead of at the infallible faithfulness of God. "The foundation of

God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are

His. And, Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from

iniquity." (2 Tim. ii. 19.) What can ever touch this enduring truth?

Nothing! And, therefore, nothing can touch the faith which lays hold

of it, or the superstructure of practical devotedness which is erected

on the foundation of that faith.

And then look at the glorious results of Daniel's devotedness and

separation. In the three opening chapters we observe three distinct

things, resulting from the position assumed by Daniel and his

companions, in reference to "the king's meat." 1, They were let into

the secret of "_the king's dream_." 2, They withstood the seductions

of "_the king's image_." And, 3, They were brought unscathed through

"_the king's furnace_."

I. "The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him." This is

beautifully exemplified in the case before us. "The magicians, and the

astrologers, and the sorcerers, and the Chaldeans," who were breathing

the atmosphere of the royal presence, were all in the dark as to the

royal dream. "The Chaldeans answered before the king, and said, There

is not a man upon the earth that can shew the king's matter." Very

likely; but there was a God in heaven who knew all about it; and who,

moreover, could unfold it to those who had faith enough, and

devotedness enough, and self-denial enough, to separate themselves

from Babylonish pollutions, though involved in the Babylonish

captivity. The mazes, the labyrinths, and the enigmas of human things

are all plain to God; and He can and does make them plain to those who

walk with Him, in the sanctity of His holy presence. God's Nazarites

can see farther into human affairs than the most profound philosophers

of this world. And how is this? How can they so readily unravel the

world's mysteries? Because they are above the world's mists. They are

apart from the world's defilements. They are in the place of

separation, the place of dependence, the place of communion. "Then

Daniel went to his house, and made the thing known to Hananiah,

Mishael, and Azariah, his companions: that they would desire mercies

of the God of heaven, concerning this secret." (Chap. ii. 17, 18.)

Here we have their place of strength and intelligence. They had only

to look up to heaven, in order to be endowed with a clear

understanding as to all the destinies of earth.

How real and simple is all this? "God is light, and in Him is no

darkness at all;" and, hence, if we want light, we can find it only in

His presence; and we can only know the power of His presence as we are

practically taking the place of separation from all the moral

pollutions of earth.

And, observe, a further result of Daniel's holy separation. "Then the

king Nebuchadnezzar fell upon his face and worshipped Daniel, and

commanded that they should offer an oblation and sweet odors unto

him." Here we have earth's proudest and most powerful monarch at the

feet of the captive exile. Magnificent fruit of faithfulness! Precious

evidence of the truth that God will always honor the faith that can,

in any measure, rise to the height of His thoughts! He will not, He

cannot, dishonor the draft which confidence presents at His

exhaustless treasury. Daniel, on this memorable occasion, realized, in

his own person, as fully as ever it was realized, God's ancient

promise: "And all people of the earth shall see that thou art called

by the name of the Lord; and they shall be afraid of thee.... And the

Lord shall make thee the head, and not the tail; and thou shalt be

above only, and thou shalt not be beneath." (Deut. xxviii. 10, 13.)

Assuredly Daniel was, in the above scene, "the head," and

Nebuchadnezzar "the tail," as looked at from the divine point of view.

Witness, also, the bearing of this holy Nazarite, in the presence of

the impious Belshazzar. (Dan. v. 17-29.) Have we not, here, as

magnificent a testimony to the destined pre-eminence of the seed of

Abraham, as when Joshua's victorious captains placed their feet on the

necks of the kings of Canaan (Joshua x. 24); or, when "all the earth

sought to Solomon, to hear his wisdom, which God had put in his

heart?" (1 Kings x. 24.) Unquestionably; and, in a certain sense, it

is a more magnificent testimony. It is natural to expect such a scene

in the history of Joshua, or of Solomon; but to find the haughty king

of Babylon prostrate at the feet of one of his captives, is something

far beyond the utmost stretch of nature's expectation.

There it is, however, as a most striking and soul-stirring proof of

the power of faith to triumph over all manner of difficulties, and to

produce the most extraordinary results. Faith is the same mighty

principle, whether it act on the plains of Palestine, on the top of

Carmel, by the rivers of Babylon, or amid the ruins of the professing

Church. No fetters can bind it, no difficulties deter it, no pressure

damp it, no changes affect it. It ever rises to its proper object, and

that object is God Himself, and His eternal revelation. Dispensations

may change, ages may run their course, the wheels of time may roll on,

and crush beneath their ponderous weight the fondest hopes of the poor

human heart; but there stands faith, that immortal, divine, eternal

reality, drinking at the fountain of pure truth, and finding all its

springs in Him, who is "the way, the truth, and the life."

By this "precious faith" it was that Daniel acted, when he "purposed

that he would not defile himself with the king's meat." True, he could

no longer ascend to that holy and beautiful house, where his fathers

had worshipped. The rude foot of a foreign foe had trodden down the

holy city. The fire no longer burned on the altar of the God of

Israel. The golden candlestick no longer enlightened, with its seven

lamps, the holy place. But there was faith in Daniel's heart, and that

faith carried him beyond every surrounding influence, and enabled him

to appropriate, and act in the power of, "all the promises of God,"

which are "Yea, and Amen in Christ Jesus." Faith is not affected by

ruined temples, fallen cities, faded lights, or departed glories. Why

not? Because God is not affected by them. God is always to be found;

and faith is always sure to find Him.

II. But the same faith which enabled those holy men of old to refuse

the king's meat, enabled them, also, to despise the king's image. They

had separated themselves from defilement, in order that they might

enjoy a more intense communion with the true God; and they could not,

therefore, bow down to an image of gold, even though it were ever so

high. They knew that God was not an image. They knew He was a reality.

They could only present worship to Him, for He alone was the true

object thereof.

Nor did it make any matter to them that all the world was against

them. They had only to live and act for God. It might seem as if they

were setting up to be wiser than their neighbors. It might savor of

presumption to stand against the tide of public opinion. Some might

feel disposed to ask if truth lay only with them? Were all "the

princes, the governors, and captains, the judges, the treasurers, the

counsellors, the sheriffs, and all the rulers of the provinces," sunk

in darkness and error? Could it be possible that so many men of rank,

of intelligence, and of learning were in the wrong, and only a few

strangers of the captivity in the right?

With such questions our Nazarites had nothing to do. Their path lay

right onward. Should they bow down and worship an image, in order to

avoid the appearance of condemning other people? Assuredly not. And

yet how often are those who desire to keep a conscience void of

offence in the sight of God, condemned for setting themselves up and

judging others! Doubtless Luther was condemned by many for setting

himself up in opposition to the doctors, the cardinals, and the pope.

Should he, in order to avoid such condemnation, have lived and died in

error? Who would say so?

"Ah! but," some will reply, "Luther had to deal with palpable error."

So thought Luther; but thousands of learned and eminent men thought

otherwise. So also in the case of "Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,"

they had to do with positive idolatry; but the whole world differed

from them. What then? "We must obey God rather than man." Let others

do as they will; "as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." If

people were to remain in error and continue to do what they, at least,

feel to be wrong, in order to avoid the appearance of judging others,

where should we be?

Ah! no; my beloved reader, do you seek to pursue the steady, onward,

upward path of pure and elevated discipleship. And, whether or not you

thereby condemn others, is no concern of yours. "CEASE TO DO EVIL."

This is the first thing for the true disciple to do. When he has

yielded obedience to this golden precept, he may expect to "learn to

do well." "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of

light." When God speaks, I am not to turn round to see how my

obedience to His voice will affect my neighbors, or to consider what

they will think about me. When the voice of the risen and glorified

Jesus fell upon the ear of the prostrate Saul of Tarsus, he did not

begin to enquire what the chief priests and Pharisees would think of

him were he to obey. Surely not. "Immediately," he says, "I conferred

not with flesh and blood." (Gal. i. 16.) "Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I

was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision." (Acts xxvi. 19.) This

is the true spirit and principle of discipleship. "Give glory to God,

before He cause darkness, and your feet stumble upon the dark

mountains." Nothing can be more dangerous than to hesitate, when

divine light shines upon the path. If you do not act upon the light,

when you get it, you will, assuredly, be involved in thick darkness.

Hence, therefore, as another has said, "Never go before your faith,

nor lag behind your conscience."

III. But, we have said, if our Nazarites refused to bow before the

king's image, they had to encounter the king's rage, and the king's

furnace. For all this they were, by the grace of God, prepared: their

Nazariteship was a real thing; they were ready to suffer the loss of

all things, and even life itself, in defence of the true worship of

the God of Israel. "They worshipped and served their own God," not

merely beneath the peaceful vine and fig-tree in the land of Canaan,

but in the very face of "a burning fiery furnace." They acknowledged

Jehovah, not merely in the midst of a congregation of true

worshippers, but in the presence of an opposing world. Theirs was a

true discipleship in an evil day. They loved the Lord; and, therefore,

for His sake, they abstained from the king's luxuries, they withstood

the king's rage, and they endured the king's furnace. "O

Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If

it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning

fiery furnace; and He will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But

if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy

gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up." This was

the language of men who knew whose they were, and where they were--of

men who had calmly and deliberately counted the cost--of men to whom

the Lord was everything, the world nothing. All that the world could

offer, together with life itself, was at stake; but what of that?

"They endured as seeing Him who is invisible." Eternal glory lay

before them; and they were quite prepared to reach that glory by a

fiery pathway. God can take His servants to heaven by a chariot of

fire, or by a furnace of fire, as seems good to Him. Whatever be the

mode of going, it is well to get there.

But could not the Lord have preserved His beloved servants from being

cast into the furnace? No doubt. This would have been but a very small

matter to Him. He did not, however, do so: it was His will that the

faith of His servants should be put to the test--should be tried in

the furnace--should be passed through the most searching crucible, in

order that it "might be found to praise and honor and glory." Is it

because the refiner sets no value on the wedge of gold, that he puts

it into the furnace? No; but because he does. And, as some one has

beautifully remarked, "His object is not merely to remove the dross,

but to brighten the metal."

It is very evident that had the Lord, by an act of _power_, kept His

servants out of the furnace, there would have been less glory to Him

and as a consequence, less blessing to them. It was far better to have

His presence and sympathy in the furnace, than His power to keep them

out of it. What glory to Him in this! And what unspeakable privilege

to them! The Lord went down and walked _with_ His Nazarites in the

furnace into which their faithfulness had brought them. They had

walked with God in the king's palace; and God walked with them in the

king's furnace. This was the most elevated moment in the entire career

of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. How little had the king imagined

the lofty position in which he was placing the objects of his rage and

fury! Every eye was turned from the great image of gold, to gaze, in

astonishment, upon the three captives. What could it mean? "Three men

_bound_!" "Four men _loose_!" Could it be real? Was the furnace real?

Alas, "the most mighty men in the king's army" had proved it to be

real. And, had Nebuchadnezzar's image been cast into it, it would have

proved its reality also. There was no material for the sceptic or the

infidel to work upon. It was a real furnace, and a real flame, and the

"three men" were "bound in their coats, their hosen, and their hats,

and their other garments." All was reality.

But there was a deeper reality: _God was there_. This changed

everything: it "changed the king's word," changed the furnace into a

place of high and holy fellowship--changed Nebuchadnezzar's bondmen

into God's freemen.

_God was there!_--there, in his power, to write contempt upon all

man's opposition--there, in His deep and tender sympathy with His

tried and faithful servants--there, in His matchless grace, to set the

captives free, and to lead the hearts of His Nazarites into that deep

fellowship with Himself for which they so ardently thirsted.

And, my beloved reader, is it not worth passing through a fiery

furnace to enjoy a little more of the presence of Christ, and the

sympathy of His loving heart? Are not fetters, with Christ, better

than jewels without Him? Is not a furnace where He is better than a

palace where He is not? Nature says, "_No!_" Faith says, "_Yes!_"

It is well to bear in mind that this is not the day of Christ's

_power_; but it is the day of His _sympathy_. When passing through the

deep waters of affliction, the heart may, at times, feel disposed to

ask, "Why does not the Lord display His power, and deliver me?" The

answer is, This is not the day of His power. He could avert that

sickness--He could remove that difficulty--He could take off that

pressure--He could prevent that catastrophe--He could preserve that

beloved and fondly-cherished object from the cold grasp of death. But,

instead of putting forth His power to deliver, He allows things to run

their course, and pours His own sweet sympathy into the oppressed and

riven heart, in such a way as to elicit the acknowledgment that we

would not, for worlds, have missed the trial, because of the abundance

of the consolation.

Such, my reader, is the manner of our Jesus just now. By and by He

will display His power; He will come forth as the Rider on the white

horse; He will unsheath His sword; He will make bare His arm; He will

avenge His people, and right their wrongs forever. But now His sword

is sheathed, His arm covered. This is the time for making known the

deep love of His heart, not the power of His arm, nor the sharpness of

His sword. Are you satisfied to have it so? Is Christ's sympathy

enough for your heart, even amid the keenest sorrow and the most

intense affliction? The restless heart, the impatient spirit, the

unmortified will, would lead one to long for escape from the trial,

the difficulty, or the pressure; but this would never do. It would

involve incalculable loss. We must pass from form to form in the

school; but the Master accompanies us, and the light of His

countenance, and the tender sympathy of His heart, sustain us under

the most severe exercises.

And, then, see what glory redounds to the name of the Lord, when His

people are enabled, by His grace, to pass, triumphantly, through a

trial! Read Daniel iii. 26-28, and say where you could find richer or

rarer fruits of a faithful discipleship. The king and all his nobles,

who, just before, had been wholly engrossed with the bewitching music

and the false worship, are now occupied with the amazing fact that the

fire, which had slain the mighty men, had taken no effect whatever

upon the worshippers of the true God, save to consume their fetters

and let them walk free, in company with the Son of God. "Then

Nebuchadnezzar came near to the mouth of the burning fiery furnace,

and spake and said, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, YE SERVANTS OF

THE MOST HIGH GOD, come forth and come hither. Then Shadrach, Meshach,

and Abednego, came forth of the midst of the fire. And the princes,

governors, and captains, and the king's counsellors, being gathered

together, _saw these men_, upon whose bodies the fire had no power,

nor was a hair of their head singed, neither were their coats changed,

nor the smell of fire had passed on them."

Here, then, was a noble testimony--such a testimony as would never

have been rendered, had the Lord, by a mere act of power, preserved

His servants from being cast into the furnace. Nebuchadnezzar was

furnished with a striking proof that his furnace was no more to be

dreaded than his image was to be worshipped by "the servants of the

most high God." In a word, the enemy was confounded; God was

glorified; and His dear servants brought forth unscathed from "the

burning fiery furnace." Precious fruits, these, of a faithful

Nazariteship!

And, observe, further, the honor put upon our Nazarites. "Then

Nebuchadnezzar spake and said, Blessed be _the God of Shadrach,

Meshach, and Abednego_." Their names are intimately associated with

the God of Israel. This was a high honor. They had identified

themselves with the true God when it was a matter of life and death

to do so; and, therefore, the true God identified Himself with them,

and led them forth into a large and wealthy place. He set their feet

upon a rock, and lifted their heads up above all their enemies round

about them. How true it is that "them that honor me I will honor!" And

it is equally true that "they that despise me shall be lightly

esteemed." (1 Sam. ii. 30.)

My beloved reader, have you found settled, divine peace for your

guilty conscience, in the perfected atonement of the Lord Jesus

Christ? Have you simply taken God at His word? Have you set to your

seal that God is true? If so, you are a child of God; your sins are

_all_ forgiven, and you are accepted as righteous in Christ; heaven,

with all its untold glories, is before you; you are as sure of being

in the glory as Christ Himself, inasmuch as you are united to Him.

Thus, everything is settled for you for time and eternity, according

to the very utmost desire of your heart. Your need is met, your guilt

removed, your peace established, your title sure. You have nought to

do for yourself. All is divinely finished.

What remains? Just this: LIVE FOR CHRIST! You are left here for "a

little while," to occupy for Him, and wait for His appearing. Oh! seek

to be faithful to your blessed Master. Be not discouraged by the

fragmentary state of everything around you. Let the case of Daniel and

his honored companions encourage your heart to seek after an elevated

course here below. It is your privilege to enjoy as much of

companionship with the blessed Lord Jesus, as if you were cast amid

the palmy days of apostolic testimony.

May the Holy Ghost enable the writer and the reader of these lines to

drink into the spirit--walk in the footsteps--manifest the graces--and

wait for the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ!

C. H. M.

SIN IN THE FLESH

AND

SIN ON THE CONSCIENCE

It is of the utmost importance that we accurately distinguish between

sin _in the flesh_, and sin _on the conscience_. If we confound these

two, our souls must necessarily be unhinged, and our worship marred.

An attentive consideration of 1 John i. 8-10. will throw much light

upon this subject, the understanding of which is so essential.

There is no one who will be so conscious of indwelling sin, as the man

who walks in the light. "If we say that we have _no sin_, we deceive

ourselves, and the truth is not in us." In the verse immediately

preceding, we read, "the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us

from _all sin_." Here the distinction between sin _in_ us, and sin

_on_ us, is fully brought out and established. To say that there is

sin on the believer, in the presence of God, is to call in question

the purging efficacy of the blood of Jesus, and to deny the truth of

the divine record. If the blood of Jesus can perfectly purge, then the

believer's conscience is perfectly purged. The word of God thus puts

the matter; and we must ever remember that it is from God Himself we

are to learn what the true condition of the believer is, in His

sight. We are more disposed to be occupied in telling God what we are

in ourselves, than to allow Him to tell us what we are in Christ. In

other words, we are more taken up with our own self-consciousness,

than with God's revelation of Himself. God speaks to us on the ground

of what He is in Himself, and of what He has accomplished in Christ.

Such is the nature and character of His revelation, of which faith

takes hold, and thus fills the soul with perfect peace. God's

revelation is one thing; my consciousness is quite another.

But the same word which tells us we have no sin _on_ us, tells us,

with equal force and clearness, that we have sin _in_ us. "If we say

we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."

Every one who has "truth" in him, will know that he has "_sin_" in

him, likewise; for truth reveals everything as it is. What, then, are

we to do? It is our privilege so to walk in the power of the new

nature (that is, the Holy Ghost), that the "_sin_" which dwells in us

may not manifest itself in the form of "_sins_." The Christian's

position is one of victory and liberty. He is not only delivered from

the guilt of sin, but also from sin as a ruling principle in his life.

"Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body

of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin.

For he that is dead is freed from sin ... let not sin therefore

_reign_ in your mortal body, that ye should _obey_ it in the lusts

thereof.... For sin shall not have dominion over you; for ye are not

under the law, but under grace." (Rom. vi. 6-14.) Sin is there in all

its native vileness, but the believer is _dead_ to it. How? He died

in Christ. By nature he was dead _in_ sin. By grace he is dead _to_

it. What claim can anything or any one have upon a dead man? None

whatever. Christ "died unto sin once," and the believer died in Him.

"Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live

with Him; knowing that Christ, being raised from the dead, dieth no

more; death hath no more dominion over Him. For in that He died, He

died unto sin once; but in that He liveth, He liveth unto God." What

is the result of this, in reference to believers? "_Likewise_ reckon

ye also yourselves to be _dead indeed unto sin_, but alive unto God

through Jesus Christ our Lord." Such is the believer's unalterable

position before God, so that it is his holy privilege to enjoy freedom

from sin as a _ruler_ over him, though it be a _dweller_ in him.

But then, "if any man sin," what is to be done? The inspired apostle

furnishes a full and most blessed answer: "If we confess our sins, He

is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from

all unrighteousness." (1 John i. 9.) Confession is the mode in which

the conscience is to be kept free. The apostle does not say, "If we

pray for pardon, He is gracious and merciful to forgive us." No doubt,

it is ever happy for a child to breathe the sense of need into his

father's ear--to tell him of feebleness, to confess folly, infirmity,

and failure. All this is most true; and, moreover, it is equally true

that our Father is most gracious and merciful to meet His children in

all their weakness and ignorance; but, while all this is true, the

Holy Ghost declares, by the apostle, that "if we _confess_," God is

"_faithful_ and _just_ to forgive." Confession therefore is the divine

mode. A Christian, having erred in thought, word, or deed, might pray

for pardon for days and months together, and not have any assurance,

from 1 John i. 9, that he was forgiven; whereas, the moment he truly

confesses his sin before God, it is a simple matter of faith to know

that he is perfectly forgiven, and perfectly cleansed.

There is an immense moral difference between praying for forgiveness,

and confessing our sins, whether we look at it in reference to the

character of God, the sacrifice of Christ, or the condition of the

soul. It is quite possible that a person's prayer may involve the

confession of his sin, whatever it may happen to be, and thus come to

the same thing. But then, it is always well to keep close to

Scripture, in what we think, and say, and do. It must be evident that

when the Holy Ghost speaks of _confession_, He does not mean

_praying_. And it is equally evident that He knows there are moral

elements in, and practical results flowing out of, confession, which

do not belong to prayer. In point of fact, one has often found that a

habit of importuning God for the forgiveness of sins, displayed

ignorance as to the way in which God has revealed Himself in the

Person and work of Christ; as to the relation in which the sacrifice

of Christ has set the believer; and as to the divine mode of getting

the conscience relieved from the burden, and purified from the evil of

sin.

God has been perfectly satisfied, as to all the believer's sins, in

the cross of Christ. On that cross a full atonement was presented for

every jot and tittle of sin, in the believer's nature and on his

conscience. Hence, therefore, God does not need any further

propitiation. He does not need aught to draw His heart toward the

believer. We do not require to supplicate Him to be "faithful and

just," when His faithfulness and justice have been so gloriously

displayed, vindicated, and answered, in the death of Christ. Our sins

can never come into God's presence, inasmuch as Christ, who bore them

all, and put them away, is there instead. But if we sin, conscience

will feel it, must feel it; yea, the Holy Ghost will make us feel it.

He cannot allow so much as a single light thought to pass unjudged.

What then? Has our sin made its way into the presence of God? Has it

found its place in the unsullied light of the inner sanctuary? God

forbid! The "Advocate" is there--"Jesus Christ the righteous"--to

maintain, in unbroken integrity, the relationship in which we stand.

But though sin cannot affect God's thoughts in reference to us, it

can, and does affect our thoughts in reference to Him. Though it

cannot make its way into God's presence, it can make its way into

ours, in a most distressing and humiliating manner. Though it cannot

hide the Advocate from God's view, it can hide Him from ours. It

gathers, like a thick dark cloud, on our spiritual horizon, so that

our souls cannot bask in the blessed beams of our Father's

countenance. It cannot affect our relationship with God, but it can

very seriously affect our enjoyment thereof. What, therefore, are we

to do? The Word answers, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and

just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all

unrighteousness." By confession, we get our conscience cleared; the

sweet sense of our relationship restored; the dark cloud dispersed;

the chilling, withering influence removed; our thoughts of God set

straight. Such is the divine method; and we may truly say that the

heart that knows what it is to have ever been in the place of

confession, will feel the divine power of the apostle's words, "My

little children, these things write I unto you, _that ye sin not_." (1

John ii. 1.)

Then, again, there is a style of praying for forgiveness which

involves a losing sight of the perfect ground of forgiveness, which

has been laid in the sacrifice of the cross. If God forgives sins, He

must be "faithful and just" in so doing. But it is quite clear that

our prayers, be they ever so sincere and earnest, could not form the

basis of God's faithfulness and justice in forgiving us our sins.

Nought save the work of the cross could do this. There the

faithfulness and justice of God have had their fullest establishment,

and that, too, in immediate reference to our actual sins, as well as

to the root thereof, in our nature. God has already judged our sins,

in the Person of our Substitute, "on the tree;" and, in the act of

confession, we judge ourselves. This is essential to divine

forgiveness and restoration. The very smallest unconfessed, unjudged

sin, on the conscience, will entirely mar our communion with God. Sin

_in_ us need not do this; but if we suffer sin to remain _on_ us, we

cannot have fellowship with God. He has put away our sins in such a

manner as that He can have us in His presence; and so long as we

abide in His presence, sin does not trouble us. But if we get out of

His presence, and commit sin, our communion must of necessity be

suspended until, by confession, we have got rid of the sin. All this,

I need hardly add, is founded exclusively upon the perfect sacrifice

and righteous advocacy of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, as to the difference between prayer and confession, as

respects the condition of the heart before God, and its moral sense of

the hatefulness of sin, it cannot possibly be overestimated. It is a

much easier thing to ask in a general way for the forgiveness of our

sins, than to confess those sins. Confession involves _self-judgment_;

asking for forgiveness may not, and in itself does not. This alone

would be sufficient to point out the difference. Self-judgment is one

of the most valuable and healthful exercises of the Christian life;

and therefore anything which produces it must be highly esteemed by

every earnest Christian.

The difference between asking for pardon, and confessing the sin, is

continually exemplified in dealing with children. If a child has done

anything wrong, he finds much less difficulty in asking his father to

forgive him, than in openly and unreservedly confessing the wrong. In

asking for forgiveness, the child may have in his mind a number of

things which tend to lessen the sense of the evil; he may be secretly

thinking that he was not so much to blame after all, though, to be

sure, it is only proper to ask his father to forgive him; whereas, in

confessing the wrong, there is just one thing, and that is

self-judgment. Further, in asking for forgiveness, the child may be

influenced mainly by a desire to escape the consequences of his wrong;

whereas a judicious parent will seek to produce a just sense of its

moral evil, which can only exist where there is the full confession of

the fault in connection with self-judgment.

Thus it is in reference to God's dealing with His children, when they

do wrong. He must have the whole thing brought out and thoroughly

judged. He will make us not only dread the consequences of sin,--which

are unutterable,--but hate the thing itself, because of its

hatefulness in His sight. Were it possible for us, when we commit sin,

to be forgiven merely for the asking, our sense of sin, and our

shrinking from it, would not be nearly so intense; and, as a

consequence, our estimate of the fellowship with which we are blessed

would not be nearly so high. The moral effect of all this upon the

general tone of our spiritual constitution, and also upon our whole

character and practical career, must be obvious to every experienced

Christian.

GOD'S WAY, AND HOW TO FIND IT

(Read Job xxviii.; Luke xi. 34-36.)

"There is a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye

hath not seen: the lion's whelps have not trodden it, nor the fierce

lion passed by it." What an unspeakable mercy for one who really

desires to walk with God, to know that there is a way for him to walk

in! God has prepared a pathway for His redeemed in which they may walk

with all possible certainty, calmness and fixedness. It is the

privilege of every child of God, and every servant of Christ, to be as

sure that he is in God's way as that his soul is saved. This may seem

a strong statement; but the question is, Is it true? If it be true, it

cannot be too strong. No doubt it may, in the judgment of some, savor

a little of self-confidence and dogmatism to assert, in such a day as

that in which we live, and in the midst of such a scene as that

through which we are passing, that we are sure of being in God's path.

But what saith the Scripture? It declares "there is a way," and it

also tells us how to find and how to walk in that way. Yes; the

self-same voice that tells us of God's salvation for our souls, tells

us also of God's pathway for our feet;--the very same authority that

assures us that "he that believeth on the Son of God hath everlasting

life," assures us also that there is a way so plain that "the

wayfaring men though fools shall not err therein."

This, we repeat, is a signal mercy--a mercy at all times, but

especially in a day of confusion and perplexity like the present. It

is deeply affecting to notice the state of uncertainty in which many

of God's dear people are found at the present moment. We do not refer

now to the question of salvation, of this we have spoken largely

elsewhere; but that which we have now before us is the path of the

Christian--what he ought to do, where he should be found, how he ought

to carry himself in the midst of the professing Church. Is it not too

true that multitudes of the Lord's people are at sea as to these

things? Are there not many who, were they to tell out the real

feelings of their hearts, would have to own themselves in a thoroughly

unsettled state--to confess that they know not what to do, or where to

go, or what to believe? Now, the question is, Would God leave His

children, would Christ leave His servants, in such darkness and

confusion?

"No; my dear Lord, in following Thee,

And not in dark uncertainty,

This foot obedient moves."

May not a child know the will of his father? May not a servant know

the will of his master? And if this be so in our earthly

relationships, how much more fully may we count upon it in reference

to our Father and Master in heaven. When Israel of old emerged from

the Red Sea, and stood upon the margin of that great and terrible

wilderness which lay between them and the land of promise, how were

they to know their way? The trackless sand of the desert lay all

around them. It was in vain to look for any footprint there. It was a

dreary waste in which the vulture's eye could not discern a pathway.

Moses felt this when he said to Hobab, "Leave us not, I pray thee;

forasmuch as thou knowest how we are to encamp in the wilderness, and

thou mayest be to us instead of eyes." (Numb. x. 31.) How well our

poor unbelieving hearts can understand this touching appeal! How one

craves a human guide in the midst of a scene of perplexity! How fondly

the heart clings to one whom we deem competent to give us guidance in

moments of darkness and difficulty!

And yet, we may ask, what did Moses want with Hobab's eyes? Had not

Jehovah graciously undertaken to be their guide? Yes, truly; for we

are told that "on the day that the tabernacle was reared up, the cloud

covered the tabernacle, namely, the tent of the testimony; and at

even, there was upon the tabernacle as it were the appearance of fire,

until the morning. So it was alway: the cloud covered it by day, and

the appearance of fire by night. And when the cloud was taken up from

the tabernacle, then after that the children of Israel journeyed; and

in the place where the cloud abode, there the children of Israel

pitched their tents. At the commandment of the Lord the children of

Israel journeyed, and at the commandment of the Lord they pitched: as

long as the cloud abode upon the tabernacle, they rested in their

tents. And when the cloud tarried long upon the tabernacle many days,

then the children of Israel kept the charge of the Lord, and journeyed

not. And so it was, when the cloud was a few days upon the tabernacle;

according to the commandment of the Lord they abode in their tents,

and according to the commandment the Lord, and journeyed not. And so

it was, when the cloud abode from even unto the morning, and that the

cloud was taken up in the morning, then they journeyed; whether it was

by day or by night that the cloud was taken up, they journeyed; or

whether it were two days, or a month, or a year, that the cloud

tarried upon the tabernacle, remaining thereon, the children of Israel

abode in their tents and journeyed not, but when it was taken up they

journeyed. At the commandment of the Lord they rested in their tents,

and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed: they kept the

charge of the Lord at the commandment of the Lord by the hand of

Moses" (Num. ix. 15-23).

Here was divine guidance--a guidance, we may surely say, quite

sufficient to render them independent of their own eyes, of Hobab's

eyes, and the eyes of any other mortal. It is interesting to note that

in the opening of the book of Numbers, it was arranged that the ark of

the covenant was to find its place in the very bosom of the

congregation; but in chapter x. we are told that when "they departed

from the mount of the Lord three days' journey, the ark of the

covenant of the Lord _went before them_, in the three days' journey,

to search out a resting-place for them." Instead of Jehovah finding a

resting-place in the bosom of His redeemed people, He becomes their

traveling Guide, and goes before them to seek out a resting-place for

them. What touching grace is here! and what faithfulness! If Moses

will ask Hobab to be their guide, and that, too, in the very face of

God's provision--even the cloud and the silver trumpet, then will

Jehovah leave His place in the centre of the tribes, and go before

them to search them out a resting-place. And did not He know the

wilderness well? Would not He be better for them than ten thousand

Hobabs? Might they not fully trust Him? Assuredly. He would not lead

them astray. If His grace had redeemed them from Egypt's bondage, and

conducted them through the Red Sea, surely they might confide in the

same grace to guide them across that great and terrible wilderness,

and bring them safely into the land flowing with milk and honey.

But it must be borne in mind that, in order to profit by divine

guidance, there must be the abandonment of our own will, and of all

confidence in our own reasonings, as well as all confidence in the

thoughts and reasonings of others. If I have Jehovah as my Guide, I do

not want my own eyes or the eyes of a Hobab either. God is sufficient:

I can trust Him. He knows all the way across the desert; and hence, if

I keep my eye upon Him, I shall be guided aright.

But this leads us on to the second division of our subject, namely,

How am I to find God's way? An all-important question, surely. Whither

am I to turn to find God's pathway? If the vulture's eye, so keen, so

powerful, so far-seeing, hath not seen it,--if the young lion, so

vigorous in movement, so majestic in mien, hath not trodden it,--if

man knoweth not the price of it, and if it is not to be found in the

land of the living,--if the depth saith, It is not in me, and the sea

saith, It is not with me,--if it cannot be gotten for gold or precious

stones,--if the wealth of the universe cannot equal it, and no wit of

man discover it,--then whither am I to turn? where shall I find it?

Shall I turn to those great standards of orthodoxy which rule the

religious thought and feeling of millions throughout the length and

breadth of the professing Church? Is this wondrous pathway of wisdom

to be found with them? Do they form any exception to the great, broad,

sweeping rule of Job xxviii? Assuredly not. What, then, am I to do? I

know there is a way. God, who cannot lie, declares this, and I believe

it; but where am I to find it? "Whence, then, cometh wisdom? and where

is the place of understanding? seeing it is hid from the eyes of all

living, and kept close from the fowls of the air. Destruction and

Death say, We have heard the fame thereof with our ears." Does it not

seem like a hopeless case for any poor ignorant mortal to search for

this wondrous pathway? No, blessed be God, it is by no means a

hopeless case, for "He understandeth the way thereof, and He knoweth

the place thereof. For He looketh to the ends of the earth, and seeth

under the whole heaven; to make the weight for the winds; and He

weigheth the waters by measure. When He made a decree for the rain,

and a way for the lightning of the thunder, then did He see it and

_declare_ it; He prepared it, yea, and searched it out. And unto man

He said, 'Behold, _the fear of the Lord_, that is wisdom; and _to

depart from evil_ is understanding.'"

Here, then, is the divine secret of wisdom: "The fear of the Lord."

This sets the conscience directly in the presence of God, which is its

only true place. The object of Satan is to keep the conscience out of

this place--to bring it under the power and authority of man--to lead

it into subjection to the commandments and doctrines of men--to thrust

in something between the conscience and the authority of Christ the

Lord, it matters not what it is; it may be a creed or a confession

containing a quantity of truth,--it may be the opinion of a man or a

set of men--the judgment of some favorite teacher,--anything, in

short, to come in and usurp, in the heart, the place which belongs to

God's Word alone. This is a terrible snare, and a stumbling-block--a

most serious hindrance to our progress in the ways of the Lord. God's

Word must rule me--God's pure and simple Word, not man's

interpretation thereof. No doubt, God may use a man to unfold that

Word to my soul; but then it is not man's unfolding of God's Word that

rules me, but God's Word by man unfolded. This is of all importance.

We must be exclusively taught and exclusively governed by the Word of

the living God. Nothing else will keep us straight, or give solidity

and consistency to our character and course as Christians. There is a

strong tendency within and around us to be ruled by the thoughts and

opinions of men--by those great standards of doctrine which men have

set up. Those standards and opinions may have a large amount of truth

in them--they may be all true so far as they go; that is not the point

in question now. What we want to impress upon the Christian reader is,

that he is not to be governed by the thoughts of his fellow-man, but

simply and solely by the Word of God. It is of no value to hold a

truth from man; I must hold it directly from God Himself. God may use

a man to communicate His truth; but unless I hold it as from God, it

has no divine power over my heart and conscience; it does not bring me

into living contact with God, but actually hinders that contact by

bringing in something between my soul and His holy authority.

We should greatly like to enlarge upon and enforce this great

principle; but we must forbear, just now, in order to unfold to the

reader one or two solemn and practical points set forth in the

eleventh chapter of Luke,--points which, if entered into, will enable

us to understand a little better how to find God's way. We shall quote

the passage at length.--"The light of the body is the eye: therefore

when thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light; but

when thine eye is evil, thy body also is full of darkness. Take heed,

therefore, that the light which is in thee be not darkness. If thy

whole body therefore be full of light, having no part dark, the whole

shall be full of light, as when the bright shining of a candle doth

give thee light."

Here, then, we are furnished with the true secret of discerning God's

way. It may seem very difficult, in the midst of the troubled sea of

christendom, to steer one's course aright. So many conflicting voices

fall on the ear. So many opposing views solicit our attention, men of

God differ so in judgment, shades of opinion are so multiplied, that

it seems impossible to reach a sound conclusion. We go to one man who,

so far as we can judge, seems to have a single eye, and he tells us

one thing; we go to another man who also seems to have a single eye,

and he tells the very reverse. What, then, are we to think? Well, one

thing is certain, that our own eye is not single when we are running,

in uncertainty and perplexity, from one man to another. The single eye

is fixed on Christ alone, and thus the body is filled with light. The

Israelite of old had not to run hither and thither to consult with his

fellow as to the right way. Each had the same divine guide, namely,

the pillar of cloud by day, and the pillar of fire by night. In a

word, Jehovah Himself was the infallible Guide of each member of the

congregation. They were not left to the guidance of the most

intelligent, sagacious, or experienced man in the assembly; neither

were they left to follow their own way,--each was to follow the Lord.

The silver trumpet announced to all alike the mind of God; and no one

whose ear was open and attentive was left at any loss. The eye and

the ear of each were to be directed to God _alone_, and not to a

fellow-mortal. This was the secret of guidance in the trackless desert

of old, and this is the secret of guidance in the vast moral

wilderness through which God's redeemed are passing now. One man may

say, Listen to me; and another may say, Listen to me; and a third may

say, Let each one take his own way. The obedient heart says, in

opposition to all, I must follow my Lord.

This makes all so simple. It will not, by any means, tender to foster

a spirit of haughty independence; quite the reverse. The more I am

taught to lean on God alone for guidance, the more I shall distrust

and look off from myself; and this, assuredly, is not independence.

True, it will deliver me from servile following of any man, by giving

me to feel my responsibility to Christ alone; but this is precisely

what is so much needed at the present moment. The more closely we

examine the elements that are abroad in the professing Church, the

more we shall be convinced of our personal need of this entire

subjection to divine authority, which is only another name for "the

fear of the Lord," or, "a single eye." There is one brief sentence, in

the opening of the Acts of the Apostles, which furnishes a perfect

antidote to the self-will and the servile fear of man so rife around

us, and that is, "We must obey God." What an utterance! "We must

_obey_." This is the cure for self-will. "We must obey _God_." This is

the cure for servile subjection to the commandments and doctrines of

men. There must be obedience; but obedience to what? To God's

authority, and to that alone. Thus the soul is preserved from the

influence of infidelity on the one hand, and superstition on the

other. Infidelity says, Do as you like. Superstition says, Do as man

tells you. Faith says, "We must obey God."

Here is the holy balance of the soul in the midst of the conflicting

and confounding influences around us in this our day. As a servant, I

am to obey my Lord; as a child, I am to hearken to my Father's

commandments. Nor am I the less to do this although my fellow-servants

and my brethren may not understand me. I must remember that the

immediate business of my soul is with God Himself.--

"He before whom the elders bow,

With Him is _all_ my business now."

It is my privilege to be as sure that I have my Master's mind as to my

path as that I have His Word for the security of my soul. If not,

where am I? Is it not my privilege to have a single eye? Yes, surely.

And what then? "A body full of light." Now, if my body is full of

light, can my mind be full of perplexity? Impossible. The two things

are wholly incompatible; and hence, when one is plunged "in dark

uncertainty," it is very plain his eye is not single. He may seem very

sincere, he may be very anxious to be guided aright; but he may rest

assured there is the lack of a single eye--that indispensable

prerequisite to divine guidance. The Word is plain,--"If thine eye is

single, thy whole body also is full of light." God will ever guide

the obedient, humble soul; but, on the other hand, if we do not walk

according to the light communicated, we shall get into darkness. Light

not acted upon becomes darkness, and oh, "how great is that darkness!"

Nothing is more dangerous than tampering with the light which God

gives. It must, sooner or later, lead to the most disastrous

consequences. "Take heed, therefore, that the light which is in thee

be not darkness." "Hear, ye, and give ear: be not proud; for the Lord

hath spoken. Give glory to the Lord your God, before _He_ cause

darkness, and before your feet stumble on the dark mountains, and

while ye look for light, _He_ turn it into the shadow of death, and

make it gross darkness." (Jer. xiii. 15, 16.)

This is deeply solemn. What a contrast between a man having a single

eye, and a man not acting on the light which God has given him! The

one has his body full of light; the other has his body full of

darkness: the one has no part dark; the other is plunged in gross

darkness: the one is a light-bearer for others; the other is a

stumbling-block in the way. We know nothing more solemn than the

judicial acting of God, in actually turning our light into darkness,

because we have refused to act on the light which He has been pleased

to impart.

Christian reader, art thou acting up to thy light? Has God sent a ray

of light into thy soul? Has He shown thee something wrong in thy ways

or associations? Art thou persisting in any line of action which

conscience tells thee is not in full accordance with thy Master's

will? Search and see. "Give glory to the Lord thy God." Act on the

light. Do not hesitate. Think not of consequences. Obey, we beseech

thee, the word of thy Lord. This very moment, as thine eye scans these

lines, let the purpose of thy soul be to depart from iniquity wherever

thou findest it. Say not, Whither shall I go? What shall I do next?

There is evil everywhere. It is only escaping from one evil to plunge

into another. Say not these things; do not argue or reason; do not

look at results; think not of what the world or the world-church will

say of thee; rise above all these things, and tread the path of

light--that path which shineth more and more unto the perfect day of

glory. Remember, God never gives light for two steps at a time. If He

has given thee light for one step, then, in the fear and love of His

Name, take that one step, and thou wilt assuredly get more light--yes,

"more and more." But if there be the refusal to act, the light which

is in thee will become gross darkness, thy feet will stumble on the

dark mountains of error which lie on either side of the straight and

narrow path of obedience; and thou wilt become a stumbling-block in

the path of others. Some of the most grievous stumbling-blocks that

lie, at this moment, in the pathway of anxious inquirers are found in

the persons of those who once seemed to possess the truth, but have

turned from it. The light which was in them has become darkness, and

oh, how great and how appalling is that darkness! How sad it is to

see those who ought to be light-bearers, acting as a positive

hindrance to young and earnest Christians! But let not young

Christians be hindered by them. The way is plain. "The fear of the

Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding." Let

each one hear and obey for himself the voice of the Lord. "My sheep

hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me." The Lord be

praised for this precious word! It puts each one in the place of

direct responsibility to Christ Himself; it tells us plainly what is

_God's way_, and, just as plainly, _how to find it_.

_C. H. M._

THE UNEQUAL YOKE

No one who sincerely desires to attain, in his own person, or promote

in others, a purer and more elevated discipleship, can possibly

contemplate the Christianity of the present day without an

indescribable feeling of sadness and heaviness. Its tone is so

excessively low, its aspect so sickly, and its spirit so enfeebled,

that one is, at times, tempted to despair of any thing like a true and

faithful witness for an absent Lord. All this is the more truly

deplorable when we remember the commanding motives by which it is our

special privilege ever to be actuated. Whether we look at the Master

whom we are called to follow, the path which we are called to tread,

the end which we are called to keep in view, or the hopes by which we

are to be animated, we cannot but own that, were all these entered

into and realized by a more simple faith, we should assuredly exhibit

a more ardent discipleship. "The love of Christ," says the apostle,

"constraineth us." This is the most powerful motive of all. The more

the heart is filled with Christ's love, and the eye filled with His

blessed person, the more closely shall we seek to follow in His

heavenly track. His footmarks can only be discovered by "a single

eye;" and unless the will is broken, the flesh mortified, and the body

kept under, we shall utterly fail in our discipleship, and make

shipwreck of faith and a good conscience.

Let not my reader misunderstand me. It is not here, by any means, a

question of personal salvation. It is quite another thing. Nothing can

be more basely selfish than, having received salvation as the fruit

of Christ's agony and bloody sweat, His cross and passion, to keep at

as great a distance from His sacred person as we can without

forfeiting our personal safety. This is, even in the judgment of

nature, deemed a character of selfishness worthy of unmingled

contempt; but when exhibited by one who professes to owe his present

and his everlasting all to a rejected, crucified, risen, and absent,

Master, no language can express its moral baseness. "Provided I escape

hell-fire, it makes little matter as to discipleship." Reader, do you

not, in your inmost soul, abhor this sentiment? If so, then earnestly

seek to flee from it, to the very opposite point of the compass; and

let your truthful language be, Provided that blessed Master is

glorified, it makes little matter, comparatively, about my personal

safety. Would to God that this were the sincere utterance of many

hearts in this day, when, alas, it may be too truly said that, "All

seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's" (Phil. ii.

21). Would that the Holy Ghost would raise up, by His own resistless

power, and send forth, by His own heavenly energy, a band of separated

and consecrated followers of the Lamb, each one bound, by the cords of

love, to the horns of the altar--a company, like Gideon's three

hundred of old, able to confide in God and deny the flesh. How the

heart longs for this! How the spirit, bowed down at times beneath the

chilling and withering influence of a cold and uninfluential

profession, earnestly breathes after a more vigorous and whole-hearted

testimony for that One who emptied Himself and laid aside His glory,

in order that we, through His precious bloodshedding, might be raised

to companionship with Him in eternal blessedness!

Now, amongst the numerous hindrances to this thorough consecration of

heart to Christ which I earnestly desire for myself and my reader,

"the unequal yoke" will be found to occupy a very prominent place

indeed. "Be ye not unequally yoked together [ετεροζυγουντες] with

unbelievers: for what partnership [μετοχη] hath righteousness with

unrighteousness [or rather lawlessness--ανομια]? and what communion

[κοινωνια] hath light with darkness? And what concord hath Christ with

Belial? or what part hath a believer with an unbeliever [απιστου]? And

what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the

temple of the living God; as God hath said, 'I will dwell in them, and

walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.'

'Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the

Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and

will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be My sons and daughters,

saith the Lord Almighty.'" (2 Cor. vi. 14-18.)

Under the Mosaic economy, we learn the same moral principle.--"Thou

shalt not sow thy vineyard with divers seeds: lest the fruit of thy

seed which thou hast sown, and the fruit of thy vineyard, be defiled.

Thou shalt not plow with an ox and an ass together. Thou shalt not

wear a garment of divers sorts, as of woolen and linen together."

(Deut. xxii. 9-11; Lev. xix. 19.)

These scriptures will suffice to set forth the moral evil of an

unequal yoke. It may, with full confidence, be asserted that no one

can be an unshackled follower of Christ who is, in any way, "unequally

yoked." He may be a saved person, he may be a true child of God--a

sincere believer, but he cannot be a thorough disciple; and not only

so, but there is a positive hindrance to the full manifestation of

that which he may really be, notwithstanding his unequal yoke. "Come

out, ... and I will receive you, ... and ye shall be my sons and

daughters, saith the Lord Almighty." That is to say, Get your neck

out of the unequal yoke, and I will receive you, and there shall be

the full, public, practical manifestation of your relationship with

the Lord Almighty. The idea here is evidently different from that set

forth in James--"Of His own will begat He us, by the word of truth."

And also in Peter--"Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of

incorruptible, by the Word of God, which liveth and abideth forever."

And again in 1 John--"Behold what manner of love the Father hath

bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God." So also

in John's gospel--"But as many as received Him, to them gave He power

to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name;

which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of

the will of man, but of God." In all these passages, the relationship

of sons is founded upon the divine counsel and the divine operation,

and is not set before us as the consequence of any acting of ours;

whereas in 2 Corinthians vi. it is put as the result of our getting

out of the unequal yoke. In other words, it is entirely a practical

question. Thus in Matthew v. we read, "But I say unto you, 'Love your

enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and

pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; in order

that [οπως] ye may be the sons of your Father which is in heaven;

because He causeth His sun to rise upon the evil and the good, and

sendeth rain upon the just and the unjust." Here too it is the

practical establishment and public declaration of the relationship,

and its moral influence. It becomes the sons of such a Father to act

in such a way. In short, we have the abstract position or relationship

of sons founded on God's sovereign will and operation; and we have the

moral character consequent upon and flowing out of this relationship

which affords just ground for God's public acknowledgment thereof.

God cannot fully and publicly own those who are unequally yoked

together with unbelievers, for, were He to do so, it would be an

acknowledgment of the unequal yoke. He cannot acknowledge "darkness,"

"unrighteousness," "Belial," "idols," and "an infidel." How could He?

Hence, if I yoke myself with any of these, I am morally and publicly

identified with them, and not with God at all. I have put myself into

a position which God cannot own, and, as a consequence, He cannot own

me; but if I withdraw myself from that position--if I "come out and be

separate"--if I take my neck out of the unequal yoke--then, but not

until then, can I be publicly and fully received and owned as a "son

or daughter of the Lord Almighty."

This is a solemn and searching principle for all who feel that they

have unhappily gotten themselves into such a yoke. They are not

walking as disciples, nor are they publicly or morally on the ground

of sons. God cannot own them. Their secret relationship is not the

point; but they have put themselves thoroughly off God's ground. They

have foolishly thrust their neck into a yoke which, inasmuch as it is

not Christ's yoke, must be Belial's yoke; and until they cast off that

yoke, God cannot own them as His sons and daughters. God's grace, no

doubt, is infinite, and can meet us in all our failure and weakness;

but if our souls aspire after a higher order of discipleship, we must

at once cast off the unequal yoke, cost what it may; that is, if it

can be cast off; but if it cannot, we must only bow our heads beneath

the shame and sorrow thereof, looking to God for full deliverance.

Now, there are four distinct phases in which "the unequal yoke" may be

contemplated, viz, the domestic, the commercial, the religious, and

the philanthropic. Some may be disposed to confine 2 Corinthians vi.

14 to the first of these; but the apostle does not so confine it. The

words are, "Be not unequally yoked together with unbelievers." He does

not specify the character or object of the yoke, and therefore we are

warranted in giving the passage its widest application, by bringing

its edge to bear directly upon every phase of the unequal yoke; and we

shall see the importance of so doing ere we close these remarks, if

the Lord permit.

I. And first, then, let us consider the domestic or marriage yoke.

What pen can portray the mental anguish, the moral misery, together

with the ruinous consequences as to spiritual life and testimony,

flowing from a Christian's marriage with an unconverted person? I

suppose nothing can be more deplorable than the condition of one who

discovers, when it is too late, that he has linked himself for life

with one who cannot have a single thought or feeling in common with

him. One desires to serve Christ; the other can only serve the devil:

one breathes after the things of God; the other sighs for the things

of this present world: the one earnestly seeks to mortify the flesh,

with all its affections and desires; the other only seeks to minister

to and gratify these very things. Like a sheep and a goat linked

together, the sheep longs to feed on the green pasture in the field,

while, on the other hand, the goat craves the brambles which grow in

the ditch. The sad consequence is that both are starved. One _will_

not feed on the pasture, and the other _cannot_ feed upon the

brambles, and thus neither gets what his nature craves, unless the

goat, by superior strength, succeeds in forcing his unequally yoked

companion to remain among the brambles, there to languish and die.

The moral of this is plain enough; and, moreover, it is, alas! of but

too common occurrence. The goat generally succeeds in gaining his

end. The worldly partner carries his or her point, in almost every

instance. It will be found, almost without exception, that in cases of

the unequal marriage-yoke, the poor Christian is the sufferer, as is

evidenced by the bitter fruits of a bad conscience, a depressed heart,

a gloomy spirit, and a desponding mind. A heavy price, surely, to pay

for the gratification of some natural affection, or the attainment, it

may be, of some paltry worldly advantage. In fact, a marriage of this

kind is the death-knell of practical Christianity, and of progress in

the divine life. It is morally impossible that any one can be an

unfettered disciple of Christ with his neck in the marriage-yoke with

an unbeliever. As well might a racer in the Olympic or Isthmæan games

have expected to gain the crown of victory by attaching a heavy weight

or dead body to his person. It is enough, surely, to have one dead

body to sustain, without attaching another. There never was a true

Christian yet who did not find that he had abundant work to do in

endeavoring to grapple with the evils of _one_ heart, without going to

burden himself with the evils of two; and, without doubt, the man who

foolishly and disobediently marries an unconverted woman; or the woman

who marries an unconverted man, is burdened with the combined evils of

two hearts; and who is sufficient for these things? One can most fully

count upon the grace of Christ for the subjugation of his own evil

nature: but he certainly cannot count, in the same way, upon that

grace in reference to the evil nature of his unequal yoke-fellow. If

he have yoked himself ignorantly, the Lord will meet him personally,

on the ground of full confession, with entire restoration of soul, but

in the matter of his discipleship, he will never recover it.

Now, in considering the terribly evil consequences of the unequal

marriage-yoke, it is mainly as bearing upon our discipleship that we

are looking at them. I say "mainly" because our entire character and

experience are deeply affected thereby. I very much question if any

one can give a more effectual blow to his prosperity in the divine

life than by assuming an unequal yoke. Indeed, the very fact of so

doing proves that spiritual decline has already set in, with most

alarming symptoms; but as to his discipleship and testimony, the lamp

thereof may be regarded as all but gone out; or if it does give an

occasional faint glimmer, it only serves to make manifest the awful

gloom of his unhappy position, and the appalling consequences of being

"unequally yoked together with an unbeliever."

Thus much as to the question of the unequal yoke in its influence upon

the life, the character, the testimony, and the discipleship of the

child of God.

I would now say a word as to its moral effect as exhibited in the

domestic circle. Here too the consequences are truly melancholy. Nor

could they possibly be otherwise. Two persons have come together in

the closest and most intimate relationship, with tastes, habits,

feelings, desires, tendencies, and objects diametrically opposite.

They have nothing in common; so that in every movement they can but

grate one against the other. The unbeliever cannot, _in reality_, go

with the believer; and if there should, through excessive amiability

or downright hypocrisy, be a show of acquiesence, what is it worth in

the sight of the Lord, who judges the true state of the heart in

reference to Himself? But little indeed; yea, it is worse than

worthless. Then, again, if the believer should unhappily go in any

measure with his unequal yoke-fellow, it can only be at the expense of

his discipleship, and the consequence is, a condemning conscience in

the sight of the Lord; and this, again, leads to heaviness of spirit,

and, it may be, sourness of temper in the domestic circle, so that the

grace of the gospel is by no means commended, and the unbeliever is

not attracted or won. Thus it is in every way most sorrowful. It is

dishonoring to God, destructive of spiritual prosperity, utterly

subversive of discipleship and testimony, and entirely hostile to

domestic peace and blessing. It produces estrangement, coldness,

distance, and misunderstanding: or, if it does not produce these, it

will doubtless lead, on the part of the Christian, to a forfeiture of

his discipleship and his good conscience, both of which he may be

tempted to offer as a sacrifice upon the altar of domestic peace.

Thus, whatever way we look at it, an unequal yoke must lead to the

most deplorable consequences.

Then, as to its effect upon children, it is equally sad. These are

almost sure to flow in the current with the unconverted parent. "Their

children spoke half in the speech of Ashdod, and could not speak in

the Jews' language, but according to the language of each people."

There can be no union of heart in the training of the children,--no

joint and mutual confidence in reference to them. One desires to bring

them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; the other desires

to bring them up in the principles of the world, the flesh, and the

devil: and as all the sympathies of the children, as they grow up, are

likely to be ranged on the side of the latter, it is easy to see how

it will end. In short, it is an unseemly, unscriptural, and vain

effort to plow with an "unequal yoke," or to "sow the ground with

mingled seed;" and all must end in sorrow and confusion.[18]

[18] There are many cases in which one finds persons united, who though

they cannot exactly be said to be "unequally yoked," are, to say the

least, very badly matched. Their tempers, tastes, habits, and views

are totally different; and so different, that instead of maintaining a

desirable balance (which opposite tempers, if properly arranged, might

do), they keep up a perpetual jar, to the sad derangement of the

domestic circle, and the dishonor of the Lord's name. All this might

be very much obviated if Christians would only wait upon God, and make

His glory more their object than personal interest or affection.

I shall, ere turning from this branch of our subject, offer a remark

as to the reasons which generally actuate Christians in the matter of

entering into the unequal marriage-yoke. We all know, alas! how easily

the poor heart persuades itself of the rightness of any step which it

desires to take, and how the devil furnishes plausible arguments to

convince us of its rightness--arguments which the moral condition of

the soul causes us to regard as clear, forcible, and satisfactory. The

very fact of our thinking of such a thing, proves our unfitness to

weigh, with a well-balanced mind and spiritually adjusted conscience,

the solemn consequences of such a step. If the eye were single (that

is, if we were governed but by one object, namely, the glory and honor

of the Lord Jesus Christ), we should never entertain the idea of

putting our necks in an unequal yoke; and consequently we should have

no difficulty or perplexity about the matter. A racer, whose eye was

resting on the crown, would not be troubled with any perplexity as to

whether he ought to stop and tie a hundred-weight round his neck. Such

a thought would never cross his mind: and not only so, but a thorough

racer would have a distinct and almost intuitive perception of every

thing which would be likely to prove a hindrance to him in running the

race; and, of course, with such an one, to perceive would be to reject

with decision.[19]

[19] It is important for the Christian to bear in mind the words of our

Lord Jesus Christ, "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be

full of light." Whenever I am in perplexity as to my path, I have

reason to suspect that my eye is not single; for, assuredly,

perplexity is not compatible with a "body full of light." We

frequently go to pray for guidance in matters with which, if the eye

were single and the will subject, we would have nothing whatever to

do, and hence we should have no need to pray about them. To pray about

aught concerning which the Word of God is plain, marks the activity of

a rebellions will. As a recent writer has well remarked, "We sometimes

seek God's will, desiring to know how to act in circumstances _in

which it is not His will that we should be found at all_; if

conscience were in real healthful activity, its first effect would be

to make us quit them. It is our own will which sets us there, and we

should like, nevertheless, to enjoy the consolation of God's direction

in a path which ourselves have chosen. Such is a very common case. Be

assured that if we are near enough to God, we shall have no trouble to

know His will.... However, 'if thine eye be single, thy whole body

shall be full of light;' whence it is certain that if the whole body

is not full of light, the eye is not single. You will say, That is

poor consolation. I answer, It is a rich consolation for those whose

sole desire is to have the eye single and _to walk with God_."

Now, were it thus with Christians in the matter of unscriptural

marriage, it would save them a world of sorrow and perplexity; but it

is not thus. The heart gets out of communion, and is morally

incompetent to "try the things that differ;" and when in this

condition, the devil gains an easy conquest, and speedy success in his

wicked effort to induce the believer to yoke himself with

"Belial"--with "unrighteousness"--with "darkness"--with "an infidel."

When the soul is in full communion with God, it is entirely subject to

His Word; it sees things as He sees them, calls them what He calls

them, and not what the devil or his own carnal heart would call them.

In this way, the believer escapes the insnaring influence of a

deception which is very frequently brought to bear upon him in this

matter, namely, a false profession of religion on the part of the

person whom he desires to marry. This is a very common case. It is

easy to show symptoms of leaning toward the things of God; and the

heart is treacherous and base enough to make a profession of religion

in order to gain its end; and not only so, but the devil, who is

"transformed into an angel of light," will lead to this false

profession, in order thereby the more effectually to entrap the feet

of a child of God. Thus it comes to pass that Christians, in this

matter, suffer themselves to be satisfied, or at least profess

themselves satisfied, with evidence of conversion which under any

other circumstances they would regard as utterly lame and flimsy.

But, alas! experience soon opens the eyes to the _reality_. It is

speedily discovered that the profession was all a vain show, that the

_heart_ is entirely in and of the world. Terrible discovery. Who can

detail the bitter consequences of such a discovery--the anguish of

heart--the bitter reproaches and cuttings of conscience--the shame and

confusion--the loss of power and blessing--the forfeiture of spiritual

peace and joy--the sacrifice of a life of usefulness? Who can describe

all these things? The man awakes from his delusive dream, and opens

his eyes upon the tremendous reality that he is yoked for life with

"Belial"! Yes, this is what the Spirit calls it. It is not an

inference, or a deduction arrived at by a process of reasoning; but a

plain and positive statement of holy Scripture, that thus the matter

stands in reference to one who, from whatever motive, or under the

influence of whatever reasons, or deceived by whatever false

pretences, has entered into an unequal marriage-yoke.

Oh, my beloved Christian reader, if you are in danger of entering into

such a yoke, let me earnestly, solemnly, and affectionately entreat of

you to pause first, and weigh the matter in the balances of the

sanctuary, ere you move forward a single hair's breadth on such a

fatal path! You may rest assured that you will no sooner have taken

the step than your heart will be assailed by hopeless regrets, and

your life embittered by unnumbered sorrows. LET NOTHING INDUCE YOU TO

YOKE YOURSELF WITH AN UNBELIEVER. Are your affections engaged? Then,

remember, they cannot be the affections of your new man; they are, be

assured of it, those of the old or carnal nature, which you are called

upon to mortify and set aside. Wherefore you should cry to God for

spiritual power to rise above the influence of such affections; yea,

to sacrifice them to Him. Again, are your interests concerned? Then

remember that they are only _your_ interests; and if they are

promoted, Christ's interests are sacrificed by your yoking yourself

with "Belial." Furthermore, they are only your temporal, and not your

eternal interests. In point of fact, the interests of the believer and

those of Christ ought to be identical; and it is plain that His

interests, His honor, His truth, His glory, must inevitably be

sacrificed if a member of His body is linked with "Belial." This is

the true way to look at the question. What are a few hundreds, or a

few thousands, to an heir of heaven? "God is able to give thee much

more than this." Are you going to sacrifice the truth of God, as well

as your own spiritual peace, prosperity, and happiness, for a paltry

trifle of gold, which must perish in the using of it? Ah, no! God

forbid! Flee from it, as a bird from the snare which it sees and

knows. Stretch out the hand of genuine, well-braced, whole-hearted

discipleship, and take the knife and slay your affections and your

interests on the altar of God, and then, even though there should not

be an audible voice from heaven to approve your act, you will have the

invaluable testimony of an approving conscience and an ungrieved

Spirit--an ample reward, surely, for the most costly sacrifice which

you can make. May the Spirit of God give power to resist Satan's

temptations.

It is hardly needful to remark here that in cases where conversion

takes place after marriage, the complexion of the matter is very

materially altered. There will then be no smitings of conscience, for

example, and the whole thing is modified in a variety of particulars.

Still, there will be difficulty, trial, and sorrow, unquestionably.

The only thing is, that one can far more happily bring the trial and

sorrow into the Lord's presence, when he has not deliberately and

willfully plunged himself thereinto; and, blessed be God, we know how

ready He is to forgive, restore, and cleanse from all unrighteousness

the soul that makes full confession of its error and failure. This may

comfort the heart of one who has been brought to the Lord after

marriage. Moreover, to such an one the Spirit of God has given

specific direction and blessed encouragement in the following passage:

"If any brother have an unbelieving wife, and she think proper to

dwell with him, let him not put her away: and if any woman have an

unbelieving husband, and he think proper to dwell with her, let her

not put him away (for the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the

wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband, else were

your children unclean, but now are they holy).... For what knowest

thou, O wife, if thou shalt save thy husband? or what knowest thou, O

husband, if thou shalt save thy wife?" (1 Cor. vii. 12-16.)

II. We shall now consider "the unequal yoke" in its commercial phase,

as seen in cases of partnership in business. This, though not so

serious an aspect of the yoke as that which we have just been

considering, will nevertheless be found a very positive barrier to the

believer's testimony. When a Christian yokes himself, for business

purposes, with an unbeliever--whether that unbeliever be a relative or

not--or when he becomes a member of a worldly firm, he virtually

surrenders his individual responsibility. Henceforth the acts of the

firm become his acts, and it is perfectly out of the question to think

of getting a worldly firm to act on heavenly principles. They would

laugh at such a notion, inasmuch as it would be an effectual barrier

to the success of their commercial schemes. They will feel perfectly

free to adopt a number of expedients in carrying on their business

which would be quite opposed to the spirit and principles of the

kingdom in which he is, and of the Church of which he forms a part.

Thus he will find himself constantly in a most trying position. He may

use his influence to Christianize the mode of conducting affairs, but

they will compel him to do business as others do, and he has no remedy

save to mourn in secret over his anomalous and difficult position, or

else to go out at great pecuniary loss to himself and family. Where

the eye is single, there will be no hesitation as to which of these

alternatives to adopt; but, alas! the very fact of getting into such a

position proves the lack of a single eye; and the fact of being in it

argues the lack of spiritual capacity to appreciate the value and

power of the divine principles which would infallibly bring a man out

of it. A man whose eye was single could not possibly yoke himself with

an unbeliever for the purpose of making money. Such an one could only

set, as an object before his mind, the direct glory of Christ; and

this object could never be gained by a positive transgression of

divine principle.

This makes it very simple. If it does not glorify Christ for a

Christian to become a partner in a worldly firm, it must, without

doubt, further the designs of the devil. There is no middle ground;

but that it does not glorify Christ is manifest, for His Word says,

"Be not unequally yoked together with unbelievers." Such is the

principle, which cannot be infringed without damage to the testimony,

and forfeiture of spiritual blessing. True, the conscience of a

Christian who transgresses in this matter may seek relief in various

ways--may have recourse to various subterfuges--may set forth various

arguments to persuade itself that all is right. It will be said that

"we can be very devoted and very spiritual, so far as we are

personally concerned, even though we are yoked, for business purposes,

with an unbeliever." This will be found fallacious when brought to

the test of the actual practice. A servant of Christ will find himself

hampered in a hundred ways by his worldly partnership. If in matters

of service to Christ he is not met with open hostility, he will have

to encounter the enemy's secret and constant effort to damp his ardor,

and throw cold water on all his schemes. He will be laughed at and

despised--he will be continually reminded of the effect which his

enthusiasm and fanaticism will produce in reference to the business

prospects of the firm. If he uses his time, his talents, or his

pecuniary resources in what he believes to be the Lord's service, he

will be pronounced a fool or a madman, and reminded that the true--the

proper way for a commercial man to serve the Lord is to "attend to

business, and nothing but business;" and that it is the exclusive

business of clergymen and ministers to attend to religious matters,

inasmuch as they are set apart and paid for so doing.

Now, although the Christian's renewed mind may be thoroughly convinced

of the fallacy of all this reasoning--although he may see that this

worldly wisdom is but a flimsy, threadbare cloak, thrown over the

heart's covetous practices--yet who can tell how far the heart may be

influenced by such things? We get weary of constant resistance. The

current becomes too strong for us, and we gradually yield ourselves to

its action, and are carried along on its surface. Conscience may have

some death-struggles; but the spiritual energies are paralyzed, and

the sensibilities of the new nature are blunted, so that there is no

response to the cries of conscience, and no effectual effort to

withstand the enemy; the worldliness of the Christian's heart leagues

itself with the opposing influences from without--the outworks are

stormed, and the citadel of the soul's affections vigorously

assaulted; and finally, the man settles down in thorough worldliness,

exemplifying in his own person the prophet's touching lament, "Her

Nazarites _were_ purer than snow, they _were_ whiter than milk, they

_were_ more ruddy in body than rubies, their polishing _was_ of

sapphire: their visage is blacker than a coal; they _are_ not known in

the streets; their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is

become like a stick." (Lam. iv. 7, 8.) The man who was once known as a

servant of Christ--a fellow-helper unto the kingdom of God--making use

of his resources only to further the interests of the gospel of

Christ, is now, alas! settled down upon his lees, only known as a

plodding, keen, bargain-making man of business, of whom the apostle

might well say, "Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present age

[τον νυν αιωνα]."

But perhaps nothing so operates on the hearts of Christians, in

inducing them to yoke themselves commercially with unbelievers, as the

habit of seeking to maintain the two characters of a Christian and a

man of business. This is a grievous snare. In point of fact, there can

be no such thing. A man must be either the one or the other. If I am a

Christian, my Christianity must show itself as a living reality in

that in which I am; and if it cannot show itself there, I ought not to

be there: for if I continue in a sphere or position in which the life

of Christ cannot be manifested, I shall speedily possess naught of

Christianity but the name without the reality--the outward form

without the inward power--the shell without the kernel. I should be

the servant of Christ, not merely on Sunday, but from Monday morning

to Saturday night. I should not only be a servant of Christ in the

public assembly, but also in my place of business, whatever it may

happen to be. But I cannot be a proper servant of Christ with my neck

in the yoke with an unbeliever; for how could the servants of two

hostile masters work in the same yoke? It is utterly impossible; as

well might one attempt to link the sun's meridian beams with the

profound darkness of midnight. It cannot be done; and I do therefore

most solemnly appeal to my reader's conscience, in the presence of

Almighty God, who shall judge the secrets of men's hearts by Jesus

Christ, as to this important matter. I would say to him, if he is

thinking of getting into partnership with an unbeliever, FLEE FROM IT!

yes, flee from it, though it promises you the gain of thousands. You

will plunge yourself into a mass of sorrow and trouble. You are going

to "plow" with one whose feelings, instincts, and tendencies are

diametrically opposed to your own. "An ox and an ass" are not so

unlike, in every respect, as a believer and an unbeliever. How will

you ever get on? He wants to make money--to profit himself--to get on

in the world; you want (at least you ought to want) to grow in grace

and holiness--to advance the interests of Christ and His gospel on the

earth, and to push onward to the everlasting kingdom of the Lord Jesus

Christ. His object is money; yours, I trust, is Christ: he lives for

this world; you, for the world to come; he is engrossed with the

things of time; you, with those of eternity. How, then, can you ever

take common ground with him? Your principles, your motives, your

objects, your hopes, are all opposed. How is it possible you can get

on? How can you have aught in common? Surely, all this needs only to

be looked at with a single eye in order to be seen in its true light.

It is impossible that any one whose eye is filled and whose heart is

occupied with Christ, could ever yoke himself with a worldly partner,

for any object whatsoever. Wherefore, my beloved Christian reader, let

me once more entreat you, ere you take such a tremendous step--a step

fraught with such awful consequences--so pregnant with danger to your

best interests, as well as to the testimony of Christ, with which you

are honored--to take the whole matter, with an honest heart, into the

sanctuary of God, and weigh it in His sacred balance. Ask Him what He

thinks of it, and hearken, with a subject will and a well-adjusted

conscience, to His reply. It is plain and powerful--yea, as plain and

as powerful as though it fell from the open heavens--"_Be not

unequally yoked together with unbelievers_."

But if, unhappily, my reader is already in the yoke, I would say to

him, disentangle yourself as speedily as you can. I am much mistaken

if you have not already found the yoke a burdensome one. To you it

were superfluous to detail the sad consequences of being in such a

position; you doubtless know them all. It is needless to print them on

paper, or paint them on canvas, to one who has entered into all their

reality. My beloved brother in Christ, lose not a moment in seeking to

throw off the yoke. This must be done before the Lord, on His

principles, and by His grace. It is easier to get into a wrong

position than to get out of it. A partnership of ten or twenty years'

standing cannot be dissolved in a moment. It must be done calmly,

humbly, and prayerfully, as in the sight of the Lord, and with entire

reference to His glory. I may dishonor the Lord as much in my way of

getting out of a wrong position as by getting into it at the first.

Hence, if I find myself in partnership with an unbeliever, and my

conscience tells me I am wrong, let me honestly and frankly state to

my partner that I can no longer go on with him; and having done that,

my place is to use every exertion to wind up the affairs of the firm

in an upright, a straightforward, and businesslike manner, so as to

give no possible occasion to the adversary to speak reproachfully, and

that my good may not be evil spoken of. We must avoid rashness,

headiness, and high-mindedness, when apparently acting for the Lord,

and in defense of His holy principles. If a man gets entangled in a

net, or involved in a labyrinth, it is not by bold and violent

plunging he will extricate himself. No; he must humble himself,

confess his sins before the Lord, and then retrace his steps, in

patient dependence upon that grace which can not only pardon him for

being in a wrong position, but lead him forth into a right one.

Moreover, as in the case of the marriage-yoke, the matter is very much

modified by the fact of the partnership having been entered into

previous to conversion. Not that this would, in the slightest degree,

justify a continuance in it. By no means; but it does away with much

of the sorrow of heart and defilement of conscience connected with

such a position, and will also very materially affect the mode of

escape therefrom. Besides, the Lord is glorified by, and He assuredly

accepts, the moral bent of the heart and conscience in the right

direction. If I judge myself for being wrong, and that the moral bent

of my heart and conscience is to get right, God will accept of that,

and surely set me right. But if He sets me right, He will not suffer

me to do violence to one truth while seeking to act in obedience to

another. The same Word that says "Be not unequally yoked together with

unbelievers" says also "Render therefore to all their dues"--"owe no

man any thing"--"provide things honest in the sight of all"--"walk

honestly toward them that are without." If I have wronged God by

getting into partnership with an unbeliever, I must not wrong any man

in my way of getting out of it. Profound subjection to the Word of

God, by the power of the Holy Ghost, will set all to rights, will lead

us into straight paths, and enable us to avoid all dangerous extremes.

III. In glancing for a moment at the religious phase of the unequal

yoke, I would assure my reader that it is by no means my desire to

hurt the feelings of any one by canvassing the claims of the various

denominations around me. Such is not my purpose. The subject of this

paper is one of quite sufficient importance to prevent its being

encumbered by the introduction of other matters. Moreover, it is too

definite to warrant any such introduction. "The unequal yoke" is our

theme, and to it we must confine our attention.

In looking through Scripture we find almost numberless passages

setting forth the intense spirit of separation which ought ever to

characterize the people of God. Whether we direct our attention to the

Old Testament, in which we have God's relationship and dealings with

His earthly people, Israel, or to the New Testament, in which we have

His relationship and dealings with His heavenly people, the Church, we

find the same truth prominently set forth, namely, the entire

separation of those who belong to God. Israel's position is thus

stated in Balaam's parable, "Lo, the people shall dwell alone, and

shall not be reckoned amongst the nations." Their place was outside

the range of all the nations of the earth, and they were responsible

to maintain that separation. Throughout the entire Pentateuch they

were instructed, warned, and admonished as to this; and throughout the

psalms and the prophets we have a record of their failure in the

maintenance of this separation, which failure, as we know, has brought

down upon them the heavy judgments of the hand of God. It would swell

this little paper into a volume were I to attempt a quotation of all

the passages in which this point is put forward. I take it for granted

that my reader is sufficiently acquainted with his Bible, to render

such quotations unnecessary. Should he not be so, however, a

reference, in his concordance, to the words, "separate," "separated,"

and "separation" will suffice to lay before him at a glance the body

of Scripture-evidence on the subject. The passage just quoted from the

book of Numbers is the expression of God's thoughts about His people

Israel: "The people shall dwell ALONE."

The same is true, only upon a much higher ground, in reference to

God's heavenly people, the Church--the body of Christ--composed of all

true believers. They too are a separated people.

We shall now proceed to examine the ground of this separation. There

is a great difference between being separate on the ground of what we

are and of what _God_ is. The former makes a man a _Pharisee_; the

latter makes him a _saint_. If I say to a poor fellow-sinner, "Stand

by thyself, I am holier than thou," I am a detestable Pharisee and a

hypocrite; but if God, in His infinite condescension and perfect

grace, says to me, I have brought you into relationship with Myself in

the person of My Son Jesus Christ, therefore be separate and holy from

all evil; come out from among them and be separate; I am bound to

obey, and my obedience is the practical manifestation of my character

as a saint--a character which I have, not because of any thing in

myself, but simply because God has brought me near unto Himself

through the precious blood of Christ.

It is well to be clear as to this. Pharisaism and divine

sanctification are two very different things; and yet they are often

confounded. Those who contend for the maintenance of that place of

separation which belongs to the people of God, are constantly accused

of setting themselves up above their fellow-men, and of laying claim

to a higher degree of personal sanctity than is ordinarily possessed.

This accusation arises from not attending to the distinction just

referred to. When God calls upon men to be separate, it is on the

ground of what He has done for them upon the cross, and where He has

set them, in eternal association with Himself, in the person of

Christ. But if I separate myself on the ground of what I am in myself,

it is the most senseless and vapid assumption, which will sooner or

later be made manifest. God commands His people to be holy on the

ground of what He is: "Be ye holy, for I am holy." This is evidently a

very different thing from "Stand by thyself: I am holier than thou."

If God brings people into association with Himself, He has a right to

prescribe what their moral character ought to be, and they are

responsible to answer thereto. Thus we see that the most profound

humility lies at the bottom of a saint's separation. There is nothing

so calculated to put one in the dust as the understanding of the real

nature of divine holiness. It is an utterly false humility which

springs from looking at ourselves--yea, it is, in reality, based upon

pride, which has never yet seen to the bottom of its own perfect

worthlessness. Some imagine that they can reach the truest and deepest

humility by looking at self, whereas it can only be reached by looking

at Christ.--

"The more Thy glories strike mine eye,

The humbler I shall be."

This is a just sentiment, founded upon divine principle. The soul that

loses itself in the blaze of Christ's moral glory is truly humble, and

none other. No doubt we have a right to be humble when we think of

what poor creatures we are, but it only needs a moment's just

reflection to see the fallacy of seeking to produce any practical

result by looking at self. It is only when we find ourselves in the

presence of infinite excellency that we are really humble.

Hence, therefore, a child of God should refuse to be yoked with an

unbeliever, whether for a domestic, a commercial, or a religious

object, simply because God tells him to be separate, and not because

of his own personal holiness. The carrying out of this principle in

matters of religion will necessarily involve much trial and sorrow; it

will be termed intolerance, bigotry, narrow-mindedness, exclusiveness,

and such like; but we cannot help all this. Provided we keep ourselves

separate upon a right principle and in a right spirit, we may safely

leave all results with God. No doubt the remnant in the days of Ezra

must have appeared excessively intolerant in refusing the co-operation

of the surrounding people in building the house of God, but they acted

upon divine principle in the refusal. "Now when the adversaries of

Judah and Benjamin heard that the children of the captivity builded

the temple unto the Lord God of Israel, then they came to Zerubbabel,

and to the chief of the fathers, and said unto them, 'Let us build

with you; for we seek your God as ye do; and we do sacrifice unto Him,

since the days of Esar-haddon, king of Assur, which brought us up

hither.'" This might seem a very attractive proposal--a proposal

evidencing a very decided leaning toward the God of Israel; yet the

remnant refused, because the people, notwithstanding their fair

profession, were, at heart, uncircumcised and hostile. "But Zerubbabel

and Jeshua and the rest of the chief of the fathers of Israel said

unto them, 'Ye have nothing to do _with us_ to build a house unto

_our_ God; but _we ourselves together_ will build unto the Lord God of

Israel." (Ezra iv. 1-3.) They would not yoke themselves with the

uncircumcised--they would not "plow with an ox and ass"--they would

not "sow their field with mingled seed"--they kept themselves

separate, even though by so doing they exposed themselves to the

charge of being a bigoted, narrow-minded, illiberal, uncharitable set

of people.

So also in Nehemiah we read, "And the seed of Israel _separated

themselves_ from all strangers, and stood and confessed their sins,

and the iniquities of their fathers." (Chap. ix. 2.) This was not

sectarianism, but positive obedience. Their separation was essential

to their existence as a people. They could not have enjoyed the divine

presence on any other ground. Thus it must ever be with God's people

on the earth. They must be separate, or else they are not only

useless, but mischievous. God cannot own or accompany them if they

yoke themselves with unbelievers, upon any ground or for any object

whatsoever. The grand difficulty is to combine a spirit of intense

separation with a spirit of grace, gentleness, and forbearance; or, as

another has said, "to maintain _a narrow circle_ with _a wide heart_."

This is really a difficulty. As the strict and uncompromising

maintenance of _truth_ tends to narrow the circle around us, we shall

need the expansive power of _grace_ to keep the heart wide, and the

affections warm. If we contend for _truth_ otherwise than in _grace_,

we shall only yield a one-sided and most unattractive testimony. And

on the other hand, if we try to exhibit grace at the expense of truth,

it will prove, in the end, to be only the manifestation of a popular

liberality at God's expense--a most worthless thing.

Then, as to the object for which real Christians usually yoke

themselves with those who, even on their own confession, and in the

judgment of charity itself, are not Christians at all, it will be

found in the end that no really divine and heavenly object can be

gained by an infringement of God's truth. _Per fas aut nefas_[20] can

never be a divine motto. The means are not sanctified by the end; but

both means and end must be according to the principles of God's holy

Word, else all must eventuate in confusion and dishonor. It might have

appeared to Jehoshaphat a very worthy object to recover Ramoth Gilead

out of the hand of the enemy; and moreover, he might have appeared a

very liberal, gracious, popular, large-hearted man, when, in reply to

Ahab's proposal, he said, "I am as thou art, and my people as thy

people; and _we will be with thee_ in the war." It is easy to be

liberal and large-hearted at the expense of divine principle; but how

did it end? Ahab was killed, and Jehoshaphat narrowly escaped with his

life, having made total shipwreck of his testimony.

[20] By any means.

Thus we see that Jehoshaphat did not even gain the object for which he

unequally yoked himself with an unbeliever: and even had he gained it,

it would have been no justification of his course.[21] Nothing can ever

warrant a believer's yoking himself with an unbeliever; and therefore

however fair, attractive, and plausible the Ramoth expedition might

seem in the eye of man, it was, in the judgment of God, "helping the

ungodly, and loving them that hate the Lord." (2 Chron. xix. 2.) The

truth of God strips men and things of the false colors with which the

spirit of expediency would deck them, and presents them in their

proper light; and it is an unspeakable mercy to have the clear

judgment of God about all that is going on around us: it imparts

calmness to the spirit, and stability to the course and character, and

saves one from that unhappy fluctuation of thought, feeling, and

principle which so entirely unfits him for the place of a steady and

consistent witness for Christ. We shall surely err if we attempt to

form our judgment by the thoughts and opinions of men; for they will

always judge according to the outward appearances, and not according

to the intrinsic character and principle of things. Provided men can

gain what they conceive to be a right object, they care not about the

mode of gaining it. But the true servant of Christ knows that he must

do his Master's work upon his Master's principles and in his Master's

spirit. It will not satisfy such an one to reach the most praiseworthy

end unless he can reach it by a divinely appointed road. The means and

the end must both be divine. I admit it, for example, to be a most

desirable end to circulate the Scriptures--God's own pure, eternal

Word; but if _I could not_ circulate them save by yoking myself with

an unbeliever, I should refrain, inasmuch as I am not to do evil that

good may come.

[21] The unequal yoke proved a terrible snare to the amiable heart of

Jehoshaphat. He yoked himself with Ahab for a religious object; and

notwithstanding the disastrous termination of this scheme, we find him

yoking himself with Ahaziah for a commercial object, which likewise

ended in loss and confusion; and lastly, he yoked himself with Jehoram

for a military object. (Comp. 2 Chron. xviii; xx. 32-37; 2 Kings iii.)

But, blessed be God, His servant can circulate His precious book

without violating the precepts contained in that book. He can, upon

his own individual responsibility, or in fellowship with those who are

really on the Lord's side, scatter the precious seed every where,

without leaguing himself with those whose whole course and conduct

prove them to be of the world. The same may be said in reference to

every object of a religious nature. It can and should be gained on

God's principles, and only thus. It may be argued, in reply, that we

are told not to judge--that we cannot read the heart--and that we are

bound to hope that all who would engage in such good works as the

translation of the Bible, the distribution of tracts, and the aiding

of missionary labors, must be Christians; and that therefore it cannot

be wrong to link ourselves with them. To all this I reply that there

is hardly a passage in the New Testament so misunderstood and

misapplied as Matthew vii. 1--"Judge not, that ye be not judged." In

the very same chapter we read, "Beware of the false prophets: ... by

their fruits ye shall know them." Now, how are we to "beware" if we

do not exercise judgment? Again, in 1 Corinthians v. we read, "For

what have I to do to judge them also that are without? do not ye judge

them that are within? But them that are without God judgeth. Therefore

put away from among yourselves that wicked person." Here we are

distinctly taught that those "within" come within the immediate range

of the Church's judgment; and yet according to the common

interpretation of Matthew vii. 1 we ought not to judge anybody; that

interpretation, therefore, must needs be unsound. If people take, even

in profession, the ground of being "within," we are commanded to judge

them. "Do not ye judge them that are within?" As to those "without" we

have naught to do with them, save to present the pure and perfect, the

rich, illimitable, and unfathomable grace which shines, with unclouded

effulgence, in the death and resurrection of the Son of God.

All this is plain enough. The people of God are told to exercise

judgment as to all who profess to be "within;" they are told to

"beware of false prophets;" they are commanded to "try the spirits:"

and how can they do all this if they are not to judge at all? What,

then, does our Lord mean, when He says, "Judge not"? I believe He

means just what St. Paul, by the Holy Ghost, says, when he commands us

to "judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will

bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest

the counsels of the heart: and then shall every man have praise of

God." (1 Cor. iv. 5.) We have nothing to do with judging motives, but

we have to judge conduct and principles; that is to say, the conduct

and principles of all who profess to be "within." And, in point of

fact, the very persons who say, "We must not judge," do themselves

constantly exercise judgment. There is no true Christian in whom the

moral instincts of the divine nature do not virtually pronounce

judgment as to character, conduct, and doctrine; and these are the

very points which are placed within the believer's range of judgment.

All, therefore, that I would press upon the Christian reader is, that

he would exercise judgment as to those with whom he yokes himself in

matters of religion. If he is at this moment working in yoke or in

harness with an unbeliever, he is positively violating the command of

the Holy Ghost. He may be ignorantly doing so up to this: and if so,

the Lord's grace is ready to pardon and restore: but if he persist in

disobedience after having been warned, he cannot possibly expect God's

blessing and presence with him, no matter how valuable or important

the object which he may seek to attain. "To obey is better than

sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams."

IV. We have only now to consider the philanthropic phase of the

unequal yoke. Many will say, I quite admit that we ought not to mingle

ourselves with positive unbelievers in the worship or service of God,

but then we can freely unite with such for the furtherance of objects

of philanthropy--such, for instance, as feeding the hungry, clothing

the naked, reclaiming the vicious, in providing asylums for the blind

and lunatic, hospitals and infirmaries for the sick and infirm, places

of refuge for the homeless and houseless, the fatherless and the

widow; and in short, for the furtherance of every thing that tends to

promote the amelioration of our fellow-creatures, physically, morally,

and intellectually.

This, at first sight, seems fair enough; for I may be asked if I would

not help a man by the roadside to get his cart out of the ditch. I

reply, Certainly; but if I were asked to become a member of a mixed

society for the purpose of getting carts out of ditches, I should

refuse--not because of my superior sanctity, but because God's Word

says, "Be not unequally yoked together with unbelievers." This would

be my answer, no matter what were the object proposed by a mixed

society. The servant of Christ is commanded "to be ready to every good

work"--"to do good unto all"--"to visit the fatherless and the widows

in their affliction;" but then it is as the servant of Christ, and not

as the member of a society or a committee in which there may be

infidels and atheists, and all sorts of wicked and godless men.

Moreover, we must remember that all God's philanthropy is connected

with the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ. That is the channel through

which God will bless--that the mighty lever by which He will elevate

man, physically, morally, and intellectually. "After that the kindness

and philanthropy [φιλανθρωπια] of God our Saviour toward man

appeared, not by works of righteousness which we have done, but

according to His mercy He saved us, by the washing of regeneration,

and renewing of the Holy Ghost; which He shed on us abundantly through

Jesus Christ our Saviour." (Titus iii. 4-6.) This is God's

philanthropy; this is His mode of ameliorating man's condition. With

all who understand its worth the Christian can readily yoke himself,

but with none other.

The men of the world know naught of this, care not for it. They may

seek reformation, but it is reformation without Christ; they may

promote amelioration, but it is amelioration without the cross. They

wish to advance, but Jesus is neither the starting-post nor the goal

of their course. How, then, can the Christian yoke himself with them?

They want to work without Christ, the very One to whom he owes every

thing. Can he be satisfied to work with them? can he have an object

in common with them? If men come to me and say, "We want your

co-operation in feeding the hungry, in clothing the naked, in founding

hospitals and lunatic asylums, in feeding and educating orphans, in

improving the physical condition of our fellow-mortals; but you must

remember that a leading rule of the society, the board, or the

committee formed for such objects is, that the name of Christ is not

to be introduced, as it would only lead to controversy. Our objects

being not at all religious, but undividedly philanthropic, the subject

of religion must be studiously excluded from all our public meetings.

We are met as _men_, for a benevolent purpose, and therefore infidels,

atheists, Socinians, Arians, Romanists, and all sorts, can happily

yoke themselves to move onward the glorious machine of philanthropy."

What should be my answer to such an application? The fact is, words

would fail one who really loved the Lord Jesus, in attempting to reply

to an appeal so monstrous. What! benefit mortals by the exclusion of

Christ? God forbid! If I cannot gain the objects of pure philanthropy

without setting aside that blessed One who lived and died, and lives

eternally for me, then away with your philanthropy, for it assuredly

is not God's, but Satan's. If it were God's, the word is, "He shed it

on us abundantly through Jesus Christ," the very One whom your rule

leaves entirely out. Hence your rule must be the direct dictation of

Satan, the enemy of Christ. Satan would always like to leave out the

Son of God; and when he can get men to do the same, he will allow them

to be benevolent, charitable, and philanthropic.

But, in good truth, such benevolence and philanthropy ought to be

termed malevolence and misanthropy, for how can you more effectually

exhibit ill-will and hatred toward men than by leaving out THE ONLY

ONE who can really bless them, for time or for eternity? But what must

be the moral condition of a heart, in reference to Christ, who could

take his seat at a board, or on a platform, on the condition that that

name must not be introduced? It must be cold indeed; yea, it proves

that the plans and operations of unconverted men are of sufficient

importance, in his judgment, to lead him to throw his Master

overboard, for the purpose of carrying them out. Let us not mistake

matters. This is the true aspect in which to view the world's

philanthropy. The men of this world can "sell ointment for three

hundred pence, and give to the poor;" while they pronounce it _waste_

to pour that ointment on the head of Christ! Will the Christian

consent to this? Will he yoke himself with such? Will he seek to

improve the world without Christ? Will he join with men to deck and

garnish a scene which is stained with his Master's blood? Peter could

say, "Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: in

the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." Peter would

heal a cripple by the power of the name of Jesus, but what would he

have said if asked to join a committee or society to alleviate

cripples, on the condition of leaving that name out altogether? It

requires no great stretch of imagination to conceive his answer. His

whole soul would recoil from such a thought. He only healed the

cripple for the purpose of exalting the name of Jesus, and setting

forth its worth, its excellency, and its glory, in the view of men:

but the very reverse is the object of the world's philanthropy;

inasmuch as it sets aside His blessed name entirely, and banishes Him

from its boards, its committees, and its platforms.

May we not therefore well say, Shame on the Christian who is found in

a place from which his Master is shut out? Oh, let him go forth, and,

in the energy of love to Jesus, and by the power of that name, do all

the good he can; but let him not yoke himself with unbelievers, to

counteract the effects of sin by excluding the cross of Christ. God's

grand object is to exalt His Son--"that all should honor the Son even

as they honor the Father." This should be the Christian's object

likewise; to this end he should "do good unto all;" but if he join a

society or a committee in order to do good, it is not "in the name of

Jesus" he acts, but in the name of the society or committee, without

the name of Jesus. This ought to be enough for every true and loyal

heart. God has no other way of blessing men but through Christ, and no

other object in blessing them but to exalt Christ. As with Pharaoh of

old, when the hungry Egyptians flocked to his presence, his word was,

"Go to Joseph;" so God's word to all is, "Come to Jesus." Yes, for

soul and body, time and eternity, we must go to Jesus; but the men of

the world know Him not, and want Him not; what, therefore, has the

Christian to do with such? How can he act in yoke with them? He can

only do so on the ground of practically denying his Saviour's name.

Many do not see this; but that does not alter the case for those who

do. We ought to act honestly, as in the light; and even though the

feelings and affections of the new nature were not sufficiently strong

in us to lead us to shrink from ranking ourselves with the enemies of

Christ, the conscience ought, at least, to bow to the commanding

authority of that word, "BE NOT UNEQUALLY YOKED TOGETHER WITH

UNBELIEVERS."

May the Holy Ghost clothe His own Word with heavenly power, and make

its edge sharp to pierce the conscience, that so the saints of God may

be delivered from every thing that hinders their "running the race

that is set before them." Time is short. The Lord Himself will soon be

here. Then many an unequal yoke will be broken in a moment; many a

sheep and goat shall then be eternally severed. May we be enabled to

purge ourselves from every unclean association and every unhallowed

influence, so that when Jesus returns, we may not be ashamed, but meet

Him with a joyful heart and an approving conscience.

_C. H. M._

GIDEON AND HIS COMPANIONS

Judges vi.-viii.

PART I.

In studying the history of the nation of Israel, we notice two

distinct eras, namely, the era of _unity_, and the era of

_individuality_--the period in which the twelve tribes acted as one

man, and the period in the which one man was called to act for the

twelve tribes. We may take the Book of Joshua as illustrating the

former; and the Book of Judges as a sample of the latter. The most

cursory reader cannot fail to discern the difference between these two

books. The one is characterized by external power and glory; the

other, by weakness and failure. Power is stamped on the former, ruin

on the latter. In that, Jehovah gives the land to Israel; in this,

Israel fails to take the land from Jehovah.

Now, all this is expressed in the two words which may be regarded as

the motto of the two books, namely, "Gilgal" and "Bochim." In the book

of Joshua we find the congregation always starting from Gilgal to

prosecute the war, and returning thither to celebrate their victory.

Gilgal was their centre, because there they were circumcised; and

there the reproach of Egypt was rolled away. See Josh. v. 9, 10.

But no sooner have we opened the book of Judges than the eye rests

upon the sad record, "The angel of the Lord came up _from Gilgal to

Bochim_, and said, I made you to go up out of Egypt, and have brought

you unto the land which I sware unto your fathers; and I said, I will

never break my covenant with you. And ye shall make no league with the

inhabitants of this land; ye shall throw down their altars, but ye

have not obeyed my voice; why have ye done this? Wherefore I also

said, I will not drive them out from before you; but they shall be as

thorns in your sides, and their gods shall be a snare unto you. And it

came to pass, when the angel of the Lord spake these words unto all

the children of Israel, that the people lifted up their voice, and

wept. And they called the name of that place Bochim, that is, weepers;

and they sacrificed there unto the Lord" (Judges ii. 1-5).

Here, then, we have, very remarkably, the contrast between the two

books of Joshua and Judges--the book of unity and the book of

individuality--the book of external power and glory, and the book of

internal weakness, failure, and ruin. Alas! alas! the glory speedily

departed. Israel's national greatness soon faded away. "The people

served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of the elders

that outlived Joshua, who had seen all the great works of the Lord,

that he did for Israel. And Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the

Lord, died, being an hundred and ten years old.... And also all that

generation were gathered unto their fathers: and there arose another

generation after them, which knew not the Lord, nor yet the works

which He had done for Israel. And the children of Israel did evil in

the sight of the Lord, and served Baalim.... And they forsook the

Lord, and served Baal and Ashtaroth. And the anger of the Lord was hot

against Israel, and He delivered them into the hands of spoilers that

spoiled them, and He sold them into the hands of their enemies round

about, so that they could not any longer stand before their enemies.

Whithersoever they went out, the hand of the Lord was against them for

evil, as the Lord had said, and as the Lord had sworn unto them; and

they were greatly distressed."

This, truly, is a gloomy and humiliating record. Joshua's sword was

sheathed. Those bright days in the which he had led Israel's compact

host to splendid victories over the kings of Canaan, were passed and

gone. The moral influence of Joshua and of the elders that survived

him had passed away, and the whole nation had rushed, with terrible

avidity, into the gross moral evils and abominable idolatries of those

nations whom they ought to have driven out from before them. In a

word, the ruin was complete, so far as Israel was concerned. Like

Adam, in the garden; and Noah, in the restored earth; so Israel, in

the land of Canaan, utterly failed. Adam ate the forbidden fruit; Noah

got drunk; and Israel bowed before the altars of Baal.

Thus much as to man. But, thank God, there is another side of the

picture. There is what we may call a bright and beauteous

"_Nevertheless_;" for God will be God, no matter what man may prove

himself to be. This is an unspeakable relief and consolation to the

heart. God abideth faithful. Here is faith's stronghold, come what

may. God is always to be counted upon, spite of all man's failure and

shortcoming. His goodness and faithfulness form the resource and the

refuge of the soul amid the darkest scenes of human history.

This soul-sustaining truth shines out with remarkable lustre in the

very passage from which we have just given such a depressing

quotation. "Nevertheless, the Lord raised up judges, which delivered

them out of the hand of those that spoiled them." But mark the

following words, so illustrative of the individuality of the book of

Judges: "And when the Lord raised them up judges, then _the Lord was

with the judge_, and delivered them out of the hand of their enemies

_all the days of the judge_: for it repented the Lord because of their

groanings by reason of them that oppressed them and vexed them"

(Judges ii. 16, 18).

In these last quoted words, we have the great root principle of the

book of Judges--the divine secret of the ministry of the Baraks, the

Gideons, the Jephthahs, and the Samsons, the record of whose ministry

occupies so large a portion of this most interesting section of

inspiration. Israel had failed--sadly, shamefully, inexcusably failed.

They had forfeited all claims to the protection of Jehovah's shield.

They were justly given over into the ruthless hands of the kings of

Canaan. As to all this there could be no possible question.

"Nevertheless" Jehovah's heart could feel for His poor, oppressed,

and groaning Israel. True, they had proved themselves naughty and

unworthy, yet His ear was ever ready to catch their very earliest

groan; yea, we are even told, in chapter x., that "His soul was

grieved for the misery of Israel."

What touching words! What tenderness! What deep compassion! How such a

statement lets us into the profound depths of the heart of God! The

misery of His people moved the loving heart of Jehovah. The very

faintest and earliest symptoms of brokenness and contrition, on the

part of Israel, met with a ready and gracious response, on the part of

Israel's God. It mattered not how far they had wandered, how deeply

they had sunk, or how grievously they had sinned; God was ever ready

to welcome the feeblest breathings of a broken heart. The springs of

divine mercy and compassion are absolutely inexhaustible. The ocean of

His love is boundless and unfathomable; and hence, the very moment His

people take the place of confession, He enters the place of

forgiveness. He delights to pardon, according to the largeness of His

heart, and according to the glory of His own Name. He finds His

peculiar joy in blotting out transgressions, in healing, restoring,

and blessing, in a manner worthy of Himself. This glorious truth

shines in the history of Israel; it shines in the history of the

Church; and it shines in the history of every individual believer.

* * * * *

But we turn to our immediate subject, namely, "Gideon and his

companions," as presented in that portion of the book of Judges given

at the head of this paper. May the eternal Spirit unfold and apply

its precious contents to our souls!

Chapter vi. opens with a very sad and depressing record--a record only

too characteristic of Israel's entire history: "And the children of

Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord; and the Lord delivered them

into the hand of Midian seven years. And the hand of Midian prevailed

against Israel; and because of the Midianites the children of Israel

made them the dens which are in the mountains, and caves, and

strongholds." What a humiliating picture! What a contrast to the

conquering host that had crossed the Jordan and walked across the

ruins of Jericho! How sad, how humbling, to think of Israel crouching

and hiding in the dens and caves of the mountains, through the terror

of the uncircumcised Midianites!

It is well for us to consider this picture, and receive its salutary

lesson. Israel's power and glory consisted simply in having the

presence of God with them. Without that, they were as water spilt upon

the ground, or the autumn leaf before the blast. But the divine

presence could not be enjoyed in connection with allowed evil; and

therefore, when Israel forgot their Lord, and wandered away from Him

into the forbidden paths of idolatry, He had to recall them to their

senses by stretching out His governmental rod, and causing them to

feel the crushing power of one or another of the nations around.

Now all this has a voice and a lesson for us. So long as God's people

walk with Him in holy obedience, they have nothing to fear. They are

perfectly safe from the snares and assaults of all their spiritual

foes. Nought can, by any means, harm them while they abide in the

shelter of God's own presence. But, clearly, that presence demands and

secures holiness. Unjudged evil cannot dwell there. To live in sin and

talk of security--to attempt to connect the presence of God with

sanctioned evil--is wickedness of the deepest dye. No, it must not be!

"God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints; and to be

had in reverence of all them that are round about Him." "Thy

testimonies are very sure; holiness becometh Thy house, O Lord,

forever." If God's people forget these wholesome truths, He knows how

to recall them to their remembrance by the rod of discipline; and,

blessed forever be His name, He loves them too well to spare that rod,

however reluctant He may be to use it. "Whom the Lord loveth He

chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth. If ye endure

chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons: for what son is he whom

the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastisement, whereof

all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons. Furthermore, we

have had fathers of our flesh, which corrected us, and we gave them

reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father

of spirits, and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us

after their own pleasure; but He for our profit, that we might be

partakers of His holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth

to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the

peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised

thereby. _Wherefore lift_ _up the hands which hang down, and the

feeble knees_" (Hebrews xii. 6-12).

These are encouraging words for the people of God, at all times. The

discipline may be--no doubt is--painful; but when we know a Father's

hand is in it, and when we realize what His object is, we can pass

through the trial with exercised hearts, and thus reap the peaceable

fruits of righteousness. On the other hand, if we meet the discipline

with an impatient spirit, a rebellious will, an unsubdued mind, we

only render it necessary for the pressure to be continued and

augmented, for our loving Father will never let us alone. He will have

us in holy subjection to Himself, cost what it may. He graciously

takes our part against ourselves, subdues the proud risings of our

will, and crushes all that in us which hinders our growth in holiness,

grace, and divine knowledge.

Oh! what infinite grace shines in the fact that our God occupies

Himself with our very failure and follies, our waywardness and

wilfulness, our sins and shortcomings, in order to deliver us from

them! He knows all about us. He understands and takes into account all

our surroundings and all our inward tendencies, and He deals with us

in infinite wisdom and perfect patience, keeping ever before Him that

one gracious object, to make us partakers of His holiness,

and--wondrous thought!--to bring out in us the expression of His own

nature and character. Surely, then, in the presence of such abounding

grace and mercy, we may well "lift up the hands that hang down, and

the feeble knees."