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.. meta::
   :PG.Id: 40216
   :PG.Title: The Patriarchs
   :PG.Released: 2012-07-11
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
   :DC.Creator: \J. \G. Bellett
   :DC.Title: The Patriarchs
              Being Meditations upon Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Job; The Canticles, Heaven and Earth.
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1895

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THE PATRIARCHS
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   THE PATRIARCHS:

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   Being Meditations

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   UPON

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   ENOCH, NOAH, ABRAHAM, ISAAC, JACOB, JOSEPH, JOB;

   THE CANTICLES, HEAVEN AND EARTH.

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   BY

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   *J. G. BELLETT*.

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   New Edition.

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   \A. \S. ROUSE,

   15 & 16, PATERNOSTER SQUARE, LONDON, E.C.

   1895

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   THE PATRIARCHS:

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   BEING MEDITATIONS UPON

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   `ENOCH`_, `NOAH`_, `ABRAHAM`_, `ISAAC`_, `JACOB`_, `JOSEPH`_, `JOB`_;
   
   `THE CANTICLES`_, `HEAVEN AND EARTH`_.

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  _`ENOCH`.

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It is not so much of Enoch himself that I now
purpose, in the Lord's grace, I would hope, to
write a little, but rather of the times and the saints
before the flood. Whether it be of them or of him,
the materials, as we know, are very scanty; but in the
way and wisdom of the Spirit of God, they are full of
meaning and of value.

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A peculiar attraction has been commonly felt in the
Book of Genesis.

The simplicity of the narratives has to account for
much of this, I doubt not. Human life is in its
infancy and artlessness. The scenes are domestic,
and the habits and manners such as family duties
and affections were forming. This is a great source of
enjoyment to the mind from this book. Such springs
of pleasure are at times tasted in spite of ourselves.
We are spoiled very much by the customs of the world,
and we suppose that we like them. But still we find
ourselves naturally at ease in such scenery as that
which this lovely book presents to us. The wife of one
wealthy lord, who numbered his servants by hundreds,
and his flocks by thousands, would knead the cake for
the traveller; and the daughter of another, without
practising the language of apology, would be seen by
strangers watering the family herds.

Yet with all this there was the truest courtesy.
The honour due to all men was as well understood as
the love of kindred. It was not barbaric life, though
simple and inartificial. It was not rude simplicity;
but that which came from an influence that could
mould and adorn life. And that influence was the
knowledge of God. The times of this book were,
as we know they were, unindebted to the advance of
civility, or the regulations of cultivated life; but still
the state of things was not barbarous, just because
there was the knowledge of God. The hand of God
was felt, while as yet the conceits of polished life had
not time or liberty either to garnish or soil the scene.

It is this which fashions the manners of these early
times. Peculiar they are, deeply commending themselves
to a right mind; but enough, perhaps, to provoke
the smile of many who belong to times like ours. For
strange nowadays would be the confidential friendship
of a master and his servant. And yet such was between
Abraham and Eliezer, though all the while the duties
and rights of the relationship were religiously observed.
And how unwarrantable would it now be judged, that
the intended husband of one of the daughters, or the
son-in-law himself, as in the case of Laban and Jacob,
should tend the family flocks in the heat of day and
frost of night, getting his wages! And yet in all this
there is no moral offence whatever; nothing but what
may charm the nicest sensibilities of our nature.

But that which ought to lend this book its principal
power to engage us is this: the Lord Himself is seen
in it in ways and characters suited to this simple and
primitive style. The action of the book being very
much domestic, plain and unadorned, His way is
according. Whether He communicates His mind, or
manifests His presence, it is after this same pattern.
He does not employ prophets, but personally makes
His pleasure known. It may be in a dream, or with
a voice, as well as by personal manifestation; but still
it is *Himself*. And even if angels are employed, they
are rather His *companions* than His *messengers*.

In the cool of the day, or the afternoon, He walked
in the garden. In the field He pleaded with Cain,
*personally* pleaded with him, adding the weight and
authority of His own presence to a moment of awful
and solemn interest. He came down at the cry of
Babel, and the cry of the sin of Sodom, just that
He might see, as we would do, whether things were
really as bad as they were said to be. In forms of
intimacy He again and again appeared to Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob; inviting confidence, expressing displeasure,
or conveying His purpose, in ways of full
personal familiarity. And though, in the progress of
the book, this style may grow a little slack, still it is
maintained in measure to the end, even where we
might have least expected it. For to kings, not of
the stock of Abraham, the Lord God appeared in
dreams by night, and, without amazement, warned
them of their duty, or told them of their danger.

The ministry of prophets, as I observed, is not
employed. That would have been too distant, too
reserved, to suit the general style. Nor is the divine
pleasure communicated through the Holy Ghost, or
by inspiration. That is not the way either--not the
*usual* way. But it is, as we have seen, the personal
interference of the Lord Himself, coming in a vision,
or by a dream or a word; or in the still nearer way
of taking the forms and attributes of manhood; and
that, too, not in mystic dress, as afterwards to such
as Isaiah, Daniel, or John; but as one who was meeting
man in his place and circumstances. As a traveller,
needing hospitality, He eats of a calf and a cake at the
tent door with one; with another He contends and
wrestles, as a man with his fellow, having a quarrel
or matter of dispute with him.

See all this style of action in the case of Noah.
How interestedly does the Lord God enter into the
whole state of things in that day! Just as we all feel,
His eye affects His heart. And then, just as we all
do, He takes counsel with Himself. He saw the
wickedness of man that it was great; it grieved Him
to the heart; and then He said, "I will destroy man
whom I have created from the face of the earth."
And after all this, just as we ourselves would do,
having taken His counsel, He communicates it to a
friend, passing it to the ear, and the heart, and the
sympathies of another.

It was *thus* that the Lord dealt with Noah. He
dealt with him as a man with his friend, as well as
like God with an elect sinner. And we ourselves
practise these ways. We love these confidences of
friendship. We love a second self. "The end of all
flesh is come before Me," says the Lord to Noah,
telling him what had been passing in His own bosom.
And afterwards, in the day of the waters, in the same
way of gracious friendship, when the ark was about
to float upon the scene of the judgment, "the Lord shut
him in." With His own hand He did it.

Here was intimacy. Here was living, palpable nearness
of the Lord God to His creature. And this is in
character with His general actings and communications
in this book. The glory was not as yet taking its place
in a dispensation, shrouded in a cloudy chariot, or
seated between cherubim. In all that there was
majesty and conscious greatness, and the distance of
holiness, as suited an ordered economy. But in the
times of Genesis this was not so. Things were informal,
and the action was desultory; and the Lord was in
person, as the occasion demanded, according to this.

In this manner do we find the action of this beautiful
book. The elect of God are thus, and thus is the
living God Himself. It is as divine as anything else
in the Word. And the soul so receives it. And good
reason have we for blessing the Lord, because He has
introduced our hearts to such a book as this. For we
are not always ready for the higher things. We cannot
at all times reach them, or obey a summons to ascend
the heavenly places. But the Spirit of God is tender
of our weakness, and has provided for it. The Scriptures,
if I may take leave to speak in a figure, have change
of air and change of scene for our souls.

It is relish and appetite we have to covet, beloved--a
holy delight in the things of God, whether they be
the things of the "children" or of the "fathers;" the
pure milk or the strong meat. *Little* ones in His
school are still *living* ones. That is the blessed thing.
He who liveth in the mere power of intellect, or in the
schools of men, is dead while he liveth.

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There is, however, another thing to be said on the
times and on the Book of Genesis.

In those times, or, as the apostle speaks, "from
Adam to Moses," *law* did not give character to the
state of the people of God. Adam was under law in
Eden, and so were the children of Israel after the day
of Mount Sinai. But not so the generations from
Adam to Moses. Sin was equally in the world, but
there was no law. Rom. v. 14.

But not only, I may observe, were they not under
law; there was also almost a total absence of moral
or preceptive instruction. Much revelation of the
divine pleasure and counsels there was; but scarcely
anything of precept. Under the Spirit, revelation
worked its result on character and conduct, and formed
the mind and the ways of the saints. Evil was resented
by them, and judged of God; but without a written
standard of right and wrong. Without any law against
murder, Cain is exposed; without a fifth commandment,
Ham's dishonour of his father is punished. And so
Jacob's guile is visited and resented by the Lord; and
the wicked way of Joseph's brethren. And without
the light of any precept the soul of a saint can thus
plead with temptation, How can I do this great
wickedness, and sin against God?

All this is so, though neither law nor moral instruction
was then published. It was revelation in matters
of faith which, under the Spirit, formed patriarchal
character. Abraham was not enjoined either his
altar or his tent; but his call of God, through the
Spirit, suggested both. No precept required his high,
generous treatment of Lot; but his faith and hope in
God dictated and commanded it. Without direction
on the case, his knowledge of God and the mind of
Christ that was in him disposed him, and taught him to
let the potsherds of the earth strive with their fellows,
but as soon as his kinsman was a captive to go forth
for his deliverance. No word, no oracle from God,
distinguished for him between the king of Salem and
the king of Sodom; but the light that was in him did.

I might go through other histories in this book, and
find these same things. The holy judgment of the
mind that was in them, under the Spirit, suggested to
those early saints conduct by means of revelation,
promise, and calling of God. And this is ever beautiful,
when we get genuine samples or instances of it.

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Such then are among the characteristics of this
earliest and infant age of our history, and of the precious
book which records it. And this earliest method
in the way of the Lord is to be the last and the abiding
method. In Genesis, as we have seen, the Lord God
acted "in the human guise," being personally present in
the scene, and seeking the nearest intimacy with His
creature. And this is to be the eternal thing when dispensations
are over. God in manhood is to be for ever!

Precious mystery! Unfathomable wonder! Blessed
to ponder this. The first is to be the last. The song
of salvation--the "song of Moses"--was the first
breath of the ransomed tribes. It was sung on the
banks of the Red Sea, just as they had got beyond
the reach of Pharaoh. After experiences were different.
They had then to do with themselves. But at first the
victory of the divine "man of war" was everything
to them. And this first thing is to be the eternal
thing. The song of Moses is to fill the courts of glory.
Exodus xv.; Rev. xv. And so in earliest days, in
Genesis days, the divine presence was not deemed
strange, or something which did not suit the earth,
or belong to man. The divine courtesies were then, so
to speak, freely given, and unsuspectingly received.
And so at the end, in days of millennial heavens and
earth, the Lord God will be personally again in the
scene.

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The first five chapters of this book give us an account
of antediluvian times, or, as they have been called,
"the world before the flood." And it is those chapters
I now purpose to look at a little particularly.

The whole opens, as of course, with the work of
creation. I speak not particularly of this. But, instructed
by the apostle, we may say that it is only
*faith* which deals justly with this great work. Faith
puts God above all the things that were made, or are
seen. "Through faith we understand that the worlds
were framed by the word of God, so that things which
are seen were not made of things which do appear."
Faith treats God worthily--the only principle in the
soul which does so. He dwells "in the light which no
man can approach unto." Faith owns this. The wisdom
of men busies itself in seeing or inspecting Him. But
though He will "show" great things of Himself, yet
does faith know that no man hath seen or can see
Him. 1 Tim. vi. It enjoys all His manifestations; but
inspects not His dwelling-place in light.

The second chapter exhibits the man made in the
image of God, in his estate in the garden of Eden.
All there was tributary to him, all was for him. He
had food for all the faculties and desires of his nature,
and provision of all desirable things. He was made,
however, to *impart* as well as to receive; and that is
ever a necessary feature in the happiness of a well-ordered
mind. He was important to the garden, as the
garden was important to him. He had "to dress it
and to keep it." And he saw his dwelling-place the
spring-head of a fruitful river, which went forth with
life and refreshing to the whole earth. With all this
the voice of a Sovereign was heard. A command went
forth. "Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,
thou shalt not eat." But this was no trespass, no
discordant note on the ear of Adam. God will not,
and cannot, give His glory to another. And a creature
of a right thought, "made upright," as Adam was,
must delight in having it so. All this was therefore
only harmonious and consistent happiness.

To perfect his condition the Lord God celebrates for
him a coronation day, and a day of espousals. But
this action has an order in it. The Lord takes counsel
with Himself about Adam's espousals. This is done
*first*. Then He introduces him to the scene of his
sovereignty. He brings the creatures of the field and
of the air to Adam, to see what he would call them,
and whatsoever he called every living creature, that
was the name thereof. This was investing him with
dominion, setting the crown royal on his head. Then
He prepares the help-meet, and presents Eve to him,
following his coronation with his marriage.

This is the order of these events--an order which
has a sacred and interesting sense in it. It is not the
mere progress of independent facts. It is the design,
so to speak, of a great master. For there is, as we
now know, a mystery which had been "hid in God,"
"purposed in Himself," before the foundation of the
world, His secret (Eph. iii.), of which this marriage
in the garden of Eden was the type. Eph. v. And
according to this the Lord, in the solitude of His own
presence, in the musings of His own bosom, ere He
led forth Adam into his kingdom, prepares his help-meet
for him.

This, however, is not merely the *design of a great
master*, but the *well-known way of a perfect love*.

The *richest* purpose of joy is the *first* in counsel.

The Lord's earliest thought was about Adam's best
blessing. The help-meet at his side, the one like
unto him, his companion, was destined to be more to
him than all beside. And that which was chief in
his enjoyments was the earliest and deepest thought
in the mind of his Lord. His Lord pondered it. He
spoke of it to Himself. His coronation was taken
in hand at once and disposed of; but the getting of his
help-meet for him was counselled and talked of beforehand.

This is the way that love would take. We know
it ourselves. We like to dwell in thought over the
materials of the happiness of one we love. So that
all this is sweet and important to our hearts; for we
read in it that which may again draw out the admiration
and the worship, "Behold, what manner of love
the Father hath bestowed upon us!"

And Adam at once owns all this. Out of the
abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. "This is
now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh," he says,
as he received the woman from the hand of the Lord
God, owning that all was now complete. The serpent
may by-and-by insinuate it to be otherwise. But he
is a liar. There is not a flaw in all this estate. No
lack, and no exception. Nothing that did not in its
way contribute to bless him; and nothing of creature
blessedness that was wanting to him.

But all this is at once envied by the great enemy.
And he had title to try the stability of it. The nakedness,
the unshamed nakedness, of the man and the
woman was innocency. Yes, but it was also *exposure*.
The creature was to be proved. Strength of creaturehood
was to be tried. And the enemy had title to
enter the garden to carry on the trial. He was no
trespasser there. The order and purpose of creation
made room for him, as well as for Adam himself. The
very instrument by which he was to conduct his designs
was there already. The tree of knowledge was in the
midst of the garden.

The tempter, this serpent that was "more subtil
than any beast of the field," was the devil. This is
directly told us. Rev. xii. 9; xx. 2. And the scene
around us to this hour tells of his victory. "The
present evil world," whether in its moral condition or
in its circumstances, we get in this chapter iii. And
we might have expected this; for the world as it now
is has derived itself out of the apostasy of Adam; its
character and condition are formed by that great act of
rebellion.

The three master-principles which animate "the
course" of it--"the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the
eyes, and the pride of life"--are here seen to become
the springs of moral action in the heart of the woman,
as soon as she listened to the devil; for the soul that
gives up God must find out other masters, and other
resources. And this is the world. The world has no
confidence in God, nothing to bind it to Him, nothing
to give it rest in Him, no sense of His love and truth.
Such has it been since this hour, when man gave ear
to the accuser of God. It has therefore found out
other objects. God made man upright; but he has
sought out many inventions. Eccles. vii. 29.

Conscience, too, is quickened into being. Sin did
this. "They knew that they were naked." And it
was then, at the hour of its birth, as it is to this hour,
an *uneasy* conscience, a conscience that makes cowards
of all who carry it. "I was afraid," says Adam (unable
to look at God), "because I was naked." Conscience
in man must be of this quality, for it owes its existence
to sin. There was no sense of good and evil in him
till he sinned; and this sense, thus acquired, must leave
him a coward in the presence of the *righteous* One.

Instinctively they make themselves aprons. This
is our doing still. Our common state of guilt makes
us shun even our fellow-creatures. We cannot stand
inspection even from them. One great and constant
effort, in the scene around us every day, is to escape
*full* notice. The apron is still invented. The social
system understands and allows this. Indeed, it is
maintained by a common consent of this sort. And
religion, in its way and measure, as well as the rules
and common understanding of society, helps in all this.
But "the presence of the Lord God" is a different element
from that of the presence of our fellows. No rules
which sustain the social system will make that tolerable
for a moment. The clothing and the ceremony, the
inventions of society, or the good manners that array
and adorn it, will be found vanity. All have come
short of *His* glory. Let but the conscience hear the
tread of His foot, or the sound of His voice in the
garden, and no attempt will be equal to that moment.
Even religious inventions will all be vain. They can
give no confidence with God, nor turn the current of
the heart. With his apron upon him, Adam hides
himself among the trees of the garden.

This teaches holy and solemn lessons. But with all
this cowardice there is effrontery. "The woman whom
thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree."
Man lays the mischief down at God's door. He says
in effect, "Let God see to it; for the woman is His
creature, and He gave her to me;" as he still, in the
spirit of his mind, says, "Let God see to it; for the
world is His, and He made it." A strange and horrible
union! The insolence of the heart charging God, and
yet a coward conscience unable to meet Him. The
sinner may talk big, and make a noise; he may reason
upon God and his own condition, and frame speeches
and arguments as well as aprons; but in spite of all he
can surround himself with, there he is, like Adam,
ashamed of himself, and afraid of God. Man has
wronged the blessed God, and avoids Him. He charges
Him, and yet is afraid to look in His face while he
does so. All this, in spite of himself, witnesses against
him. "Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee,"
the Lord has but to say. And then, as again in the
parable, he must be speechless.

Such was the mind of Adam then, and such is
human nature still. But if this were his moral condition,
what were his circumstances? Just those of man
to this hour also. By the sweat of his face he was to
get bread, and in the sorrow of his heart to eat of it;
and that too in the place of thorns and thistles. And
in like sorrow the woman was to bring forth children;
and all this till they both returned to the dust, out of
which they had been taken. And man is still after
this manner, outside the garden, conversant with toil
and sorrow. Dressing and keeping a lovely surface
and a fruitful soil is not the thing or the allotment
now. Thorns and thistles and an unkindly reluctant
ground are to be contended with, and life to be had by
the sweat of the face in the contest.

God alone is above this water-flood, able to manage
this mighty catastrophe. And His supremacy is such
that He will make even such an eater yield meat, and
get sweetness out of even this strong one.

In a glorious sense, however, redemption is far more
than remedy of a mischief, or relief, even with advantage,
for an injured, ruined creation. Creation, rather, is the
servant of redemption; for "redemption is no afterthought."
For the pleasure of Him who sits upon the
throne all things are and were created. But that very
throne has *the rainbow round about it* (Rev. iv.), the sign
of covenant faithfulness, and that all things were to
stand *in redemption*, or in the value of the blood of
Jesus. So that when sin entered, the Lord God was at
once prepared for it (I speak as a man); prepared to
meet it by covenant arrangements made before the
world began, as His very first word to the serpent tells
us, "I will put enmity between thee and the woman,
and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy
head, and thou shalt bruise his heel."

Here the great way of God opens upon us. This
promised Seed of the woman, here revealed, is *God's
provision for dead and ruined man*, in the face of all
the malice and wrath of the enemy. And He is this
*at all personal cost*; for the serpent was to bruise His
heel. But though bruised, *He was to achieve a glorious
victory*; for He was to bruise the serpent's head.

These are the holy, august characters of this 
mysterious stranger--this promised Deliverer or Kinsman.
Such was the truth revealed on the first moment of
our sin, and such has been the truth ever since. This
gospel, published in the first promise in the face of the
devil himself, is maintained in these last days by the
apostle, in the face of men on earth and angels in
heaven. Gal. i. 8. Whether it be the earliest or the
latest preaching of it, this glorious gospel is still the
same. It is "the witness of God which He hath
testified of His Son." It is the gospel of the bruised
and yet victorious Seed of the woman. In the bright
and perfect idea of it man is silent and passive. Abram
had only to *believe*, and righteousness was imputed to
him. Israel had but to *stand by* and see God's
salvation. Joshua in Zechariah iii., the prodigal, the
convicted adulteress, are all in like case. And here, at
the beginning of our sin, and the beginning of God's
gospel, it is just the same. Adam has only to *listen*,
and through hearing to believe and live. The word is
nigh us, and we have but to receive it without working
anything in the heights above, or in the depths beneath.
The *activities* are God's; the *sacrifices* are God's. The
profoundness of our silence and passiveness in *becoming*
righteousness is only equalled by the greatness of the
divine activity and sacrifice in *acquiring* righteousness
for us. In the sight of such a mystery we may well
stand and say, "What hath God wrought!" "Simple
indeed it is to us," as one once said, "but it cost *Him*
everything."

There is nothing in the heart of man like faith in
this gospel. The faith of a poor sinner in the redeeming
grace of God is the most beautiful condition the
soul can be in. As saints, beloved, we may trust God
for our need. We may look to Him for counsel, or for
provision. We may trust Him to vindicate our doings,
comfort us in sorrow, and strengthen us in difficulties.
But the faith of a sinner, in the justifying grace and
work of His divine Saviour, transcends them all.
Nothing is so precious, for nothing apprehends God in
so glorious a character, or gives Him to the soul in so
wondrous a relationship. This faith it is which uses
the richest resources in God, and acts upon the most
blessed discoveries of Him. For while all the ways of
His glory shine brightly--His strength, and comfort, and
wisdom for His needy saints--yet, that He has grace
and salvation for sinners, this excelleth them all.

The Spirit of God, in these early times, gives us some
most precious samples of this most precious faith; as
though (may I say it?) delighting in such a thing, He
produced an impression of the finest character *at once*,
as soon as occasion served.

Thus Adam, in his faith, talked only of life, though
in the midst of death--death, which he himself had
brought in, a standing witness against him. He was
doomed to be an outcast in a scene of ruin which his
own sin had produced. He knew this and allowed it.
But he had listened to the story of the conflict between
his destroyer and the woman's Seed. In the very place
of judgment--from among the trees of the garden,
where conscience had driven him--his ear had caught
the sound of the sweet gospel, not of mercy merely, but
propitiation and victory, and forth he comes, talking
of life. He called his wife "Eve," the mother of all
living. All life was in the promised Kinsman-Redeemer.
In creation Adam himself had been constituted
head of life--"Be fruitful, and multiply, and
replenish the earth;" but that, in his esteem, was now
forfeited and gone. Life must flow in a new channel--"He
that hath the Son hath life, and he that hath not
the Son of God hath not life."

How grand in its very simplicity all this was! And
there was recovery also of *moral* glory, in a great sense,
in all this. Adam had not *submitted* himself to the
*majesty* of God, but affected to be as God. But now
he does *submit* himself to the *righteousness* of God.
His shoulders bowed themselves to receive the covering
wrought for his nakedness by God's own hand. See
Rom. x. 3. He was now honouring God the Redeemer,
though he had just before been doing all he could to
dishonour God the Creator--so simply was he led by
the Spirit to value the divine provision for a sinner in
the promise of our bruised but victorious Kinsman.

In like manner, Eve. She had listened to the same
promise, and therefore, as soon as she had brought forth
her first-born, she gives witness that this promise lived
chief in the thoughts of her heart. "I have gotten a
man from the Lord," said she. She as much overlooked
herself as Adam did. She gloried only in her Seed.
She had listened to the promise with too faithful an ear
to mistake herself for her Seed. It was not over herself,
but over him, that she now, in the language of another
mother, was singing, "My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour!"
There was a mistake here, it is true. But there was
witness how the object of faith filled her visions, and
the expectations of faith stirred in her heart. And so
soon as disastrous events manifest her mistake, and
prove to her that this first-born of her womb was
anything rather than the promised Seed--that instead
of being the bruiser of the serpent's head, he turned
out to be the murderer of his brother--still is she
found on the rock where faith had fixed her soul.
"Let God be true, but every man a liar," was her
triumph. Over Seth she exclaims, "God hath appointed
me another seed instead of Abel, whom Cain slew."
Though every cistern fail, she knows the fountain
cannot. One son had been a murderer, and another
his victim; but still God is true. "I will sing of the
mercies of the Lord *for ever*; with my mouth will I
make known thy faithfulness to all generations."

Precious faith, we may say, "like precious faith,"
with Adam, and with us, beloved. So Abel. Faith
in him had respect to the same promise, the same
gospel. The word had spoken of a *bruised* Deliverer;
and accordingly it is a victim, a bruised or bloody
sacrifice, he lays on God's altar. But not only so. He
brings the *fat* of the victim likewise. He knows the
delight which God Himself takes in the provisions of
His own grace. He knows that He is pleased with
the work of His own hand. He understands that
God is a cheerful giver, that there is no grudging in
the gift of grace. In spirit he hears the music which
the Father's command has awakened in His own house
over His returned prodigal. In the delight with
which God Himself had clothed the naked sinner
with coats which His own hand had willingly wrought
(a happier task than even the six days of creation),
the faith of Abel seems to glory. And as thus the
richest joy that is felt in all the costly mystery of
redemption is felt by God Himself, he lays the richest
part of the victim, the fat of the animal, on the
altar, making *that* the Lord's own portion in this
feast of love and joy, in His own house, and at His
own table.

This was another most excellent sample of a sinner's
faith. Abel, in spirit, was in Luke xv.--that chapter
which tells us that the Lord's own joy in it may
account for the gospel. And all these are *pattern*
works of the Spirit, forming the faith of sinners.
There is no questioning of God's grace, no uneasy
reflections on creature-worthlessness, though there was
plenty of cause for that. The strength, the liberty,
the triumph of the promise live in their souls.

And let me add, that if the confession of Lamech
(chapter iv. 23, 24) be the utterance of a convicted
believing sinner (as I believe it is), it is only another
equally fine expression of this same early and excellent
faith. It is of an order worthy to stand with that
of Adam, or of Eve, or of Abel; fervent, strong, unquestioning,
and full of liberty.

God's word to Cain had revealed a great truth--that
He, and He *alone*, has to do with a sinner. Others,
like Abel, may suffer; but all sin is directly done
against God, and He asserts His title to deal with it
alone. "Whosoever slayeth Cain [the Lord therefore
says], vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold."

This great truth, so unspeakably precious to faith,
Lamech seems to have received and fed upon, until his
whole soul triumphed in it. Not merely *preservation*
from man, like Cain, does he count upon, but *salvation*,
"the salvation of God." Learning that as a sinner
he was *alone* with God, he takes that place, and there
discovers how God can deal with him, even in the
security and provisions of grace; and that discovery is
the light in which his soul at once walks. Like Job,
afterwards, he publishes his confession far and wide.
"Hear my voice, ye wives of Lamech," he says;
"hearken unto my speech." Then in true gospel intelligence
he magnifies sin, and owns that it was his
destruction. "I have slain a man to my wounding,
and a young man to my hurt." But then again, in
true gospel simplicity, he much more magnifies grace.
"If Cain be avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy
and sevenfold." In his thoughts, "where sin abounded,
grace did much more abound." He is of the very
mind and temper of Paul. His confidence and victory
are apostolic. He seems to sing--

   |
   |  "I hear the accuser roar
   |    Of ills that I have done;
   |  I know them well, and thousands more--
   |    Jehovah findeth none."
   |

A glorious sight his faith takes of the whole mystery,
and of the boundlessness and riches of grace. He
listens to the provisions of grace (when alone with
God), and the charging of the law, the accusings of
Satan, the alarms of conscience, and the self-righteous
reproaches of men, are not heard. [#]_

.. [#] I do not, however, assume that Lamech was a murderer; but he
   could identify himself with such. With Paul, he could, in the sense
   of what he was before God, speak of himself as chief of sinners.
   And we know also that the repentant Remnant of the latter day will,
   in their confession, quite take the place of blood-guiltiness after this
   manner. They will look to Him whom they pierced. They will, in
   the spirit of Daniel or Nehemiah, make themselves one with the
   guilty nation.

These operations of the Spirit through the promise
on the souls of sinners are truly beautiful. The apron
of fig-leaves drops off, or is rather cast away, when
such operations go on. It is found *unnecessary* now, as it
was found *insufficient* before. And so all the inventions
of men. They are the contrivances of the wrong-doer
himself, the efforts of the creature, the devices of the
sinner, and they can *therefore* never do. But they are
as unnecessary as they are insufficient. The coat of
skin, the work of God Himself, has made them so.

There is, however, something which this glorious
relief provided for the sinner does *not* accomplish.
The thorns and the thistles of the cursed ground
remain; and with them the sweat of the face, and the
sorrow of the heart, and then the return of dust to
dust. As to this hour. We shine in "the righteousness
of God," adorned under His own eye, and by His own
hand dressed for His presence; but all the while
pressures and hindrances and sore grievances wait on
the tilling of the earth; and pains bring us into the
world, till we return to the dust from whence we came.
Neither does this glorious provision of grace displace
the cherubim. They accompany it rather. They are
stationed at the eastern gate of the garden, with their
flaming sword, to keep every way of the tree of life;
and no promise which Adam had listened to, no
covering which Adam had received, changes this.
Man's capacity to regain that tree is gone, and gone
for ever. Never will he be anything but a *saved
sinner*, pass he along what paths of glory he may,
from "paradise" to "the kingdom," from the kingdom
to "the new heavens and the new earth." Eating of
that tree is only by gift of Jesus, the woman's Seed
of the first promise. Rev. ii. 7.

Such are among the mysteries taught us in this
wonderful chapter, full of mysteries as it is, and of the
profoundest secrets of God. But we have to come
down for instruction to learn man and his ways, as
well as to rise, as we learn God and His counsels.

Cain is declared by the Spirit of God in the apostle
to have been "of that wicked one." The first thing
we see in him is his religion. He renders to God, as
offering or sacrifice, the fruit of the cursed ground, the
produce of his own toil. But this was unbelief. It
was the denial of all that had happened since the
creation, the *religious* denial of it. It was the direct
contradiction of the way of faith, or of Abel. Abel
took the way of the promise to God, the bloody victory
of the woman's Seed, the death and resurrection of
Christ, and offered of his flock; but Cain refused to
see man's ruin and God's redemption, giving God the
fruit of the earth; in effect saying, that He was to be
read and known in the thorns and the thistles, the
sweat, and the sorrow, and the death; and by the
solemn services of his altar he was denying all truth.

This was the way of a heart deeply departed from
God. He was laying the scene of ruin at God's door,
as Adam, ere he repented, had laid down the sin itself
there.

His next way is in terrible keeping with all this.
He hates his brother, being of that wicked one who is
a murderer (John viii. 44), and in process of time he
slays him.

Tremendous fruit of the apostate, departed nature.
He was the first of that generation who delivered Jesus
to be crucified--self-righteous and murderous. For envy
the Jews delivered Jesus; and Cain slew Abel because
his own works were evil and his brother's righteous.
It is the world. "Marvel not, my brethren, if the
world hate you. We know that we have passed from
death unto life, because we love the brethren. He
that loveth not his brother abideth in death. Whosoever
hateth his brother is a murderer, and ye know
that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him." The
Lord pleaded with him. See iv. 6, 7. His heart had
conceived the sin, but his hand had not brought forth
fruit unto death; and with a voice of long-suffering
grace and warning the Lord pleaded with him. The
grace was despised; this grace of pleading with him
at the last hour, as the grace of the promise had been
despised before.

"This is the condemnation, that light is come into
the world, and men loved darkness rather than light,
because their deeds were evil." The light which the
Lord Jesus was bringing with Him was the light of life
or salvation. Isa. xlix. 6; John viii. 12. And *this* was
the light which Cain hated and refused.

There is the light of righteousness or holiness. But
the refusal of it is not without remedy. In that light
the Lord God had come into the garden and called,
"Adam, where art thou?" Adam could not stand it;
for he had sinned. It was intolerable to him. He had
come short of that glory. He retreats from it. And
then the Lord God shines in another light. The promise
is made. The character of the glory is changed. God
seats Himself in a light which the sinner can approach,
and, believing, Adam comes forth.

*This* was the light which Cain despised, the light of
salvation, the light of the promise, the light in which
God shines before men outside the garden. And Cain
is therefore cursed as Adam had not been. As it is
said of another generation, "Behold, ye despisers, and
wonder, and perish."

All this is the solemn history of the first unbeliever.
But the treasury of corrupt nature that was in him
spends itself in further ways of wickedness. In him
was rising that spring which was to give out "its
superfluity of naughtiness." He lies after all this,
and justifies himself. "I know not," says he; "am I
my brother's keeper?" For "the lusts of his father he
would do;" and when the devil "speaketh a lie, he
speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father
of it."

All this, however, and even more than this, was
*man*, and not Cain merely. It was the ruined heart
of man exposing itself. And because it was this,
because it was the common nature that was thus disclosing
itself, the Lord takes the judgment of it away
from man. "Whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall
be taken on him sevenfold;" for none are without sin.
"Thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that
judgest; for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest
thyself." All are in the like condemnation.
No one can take up the stone and cast it at another.
And in order to express this great principle of truth,
and that God alone has either title or competency to
deal with sin, the Lord will not allow any man to touch
the fratricide. By this divine writing on the case, all
are to go out convicted, one by one, and leave the
sinner with God. John viii.

For the ends of government, when government in
the earth becomes the divine purpose, it shall be said,
Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood
be shed. ix. 6. But this is not so as yet. And for the
teaching of the common pravity, that all of us may be
humbled by the common conviction, that "we have all
sinned, and come short of the glory of God," not one
of the whole human family is allowed to touch this
wicked Cain. And so to this day, when government
has been divinely set up, it is not sin that it deals
with. *Crimes*, or offences against public order, and
*wrongs* done to individuals, may be judged by man;
but to take vengeance on *sin* would be the assuming of
personal guiltlessness. "He that is *without sin* among
you, let *him* first cast a stone at her." God has to deal
with sin *alone*. [#]_


.. [#] Some have spoken of the Jews, as guilty of the blood of Christ,
   so as to have betrayed the principle of self-righteousness condemned
   here. And yet I doubt not that there is a sense in which the Jews
   are--in a special sense--connected with that sin in the divine judgment.
   The land of the Jews is the distinguished field of blood; the
   blood of Jesus, in a great sense, is specially on them and their
   children. And so, like Cain, that people are under the special
   securities of God. And further; that blood is to be cleansed from off
   their land, though it now so stains it. Joel iii. 21.
   
   And still further; the language of Lamech, I also judge, is mystical
   or typical, intimating the repentance of the Jews who shed the blood,
   after generations of unbelief and hardness of heart. See note, p. 20.


But, further, as to this awful history. Man will not
always be making this terrible exhibition of himself.
He will not at all times appear as the liar and the
murderer. Legion will not be found on every journey
we take. There are restraints. The law, in one sense,
was given to that end. So there are the checks and
improvements of education. And there is the control
of God's hand, and the fear of His providence and
judgment. And there is "the law of opinion," as it
has been called, the verdict of society. These and
the like influences produce an order in the social scene,
which has therefore become not only tolerable, but
full of vast accommodations and large entertainments.
A new *scene* is thus produced, though not a new
*creature*. Man is man still, the same creature in God's
esteem, or in all divine reckoning, though he appears in
the character of a respectable citizen of the world, and
not as the murderer of his brother. Cain builds a city.
He has a thriving, prosperous family. Through their
skill and industry the face of the world flourishes and
looks well. All is respectable; and pleasant and
friendly the people are one with another. The murder
is forgotten. Man does not hear the cry of blood, but
the sound of the harp and the organ. His inventions
have stifled his convictions. Cain is an honourable
man. But as to the presence of God, he is as
thoroughly separated from it as when his hand was
freshly stained with the blood of his brother.

This is solemn. Man, as a respectable citizen of
the world, may be as separated from God as a murderer.
"The remnant of them," as the parable speaks, "took
his servants ... and slew them." The remnant! a word
which lets us know that the refusers of the supper
were of *one* class with those who shed the blood of
the innocent.

The ease and indifference with which Cain could
turn his back upon the Lord, and upon the recollection
of his brother's blood, are dreadful. He got a promise
of security, and that was all he cared for. And quickly,
under his hand, accommodations and delights of all
sorts fill the scene.

In some sense this is principally shocking. This
exceeds. But is not this the "course of the world"?
Was it not man that slew Jesus? Does not the guilt
of that deed lie at every man's door? And what is the
course of the world but the ease and indifference of
Cain in this highest state of guilt? The earth has
borne the cross of Christ; and yet man can busy
himself with garnishing and furnishing it, and making
life in it convenient and pleasurable without God. This
is shocking when we look at it in full divine light. A
respectable citizen of the world Cain was, but all the
while a heartless forgetter of the sorrows of Abel!
His ease and respectability are the blackest features of
his history. He went away as soon as he got a promise
of security; and that promise he uses, not to soften his
heart, and overwhelm him with convictions of all that
had happened, but as giving him full occasion to indulge
and magnify himself.

We read in the New Testament of "the way of
Cain." It may be, nay, it is, run by others. Jude 11.
And what a way does this chapter show it to be! He
was an infidel, or a man of his own religion; not
obedient in faith to God's revelation. He practised the
works of the liar and the murderer; he hated the
light; he was proof against God's word in mercy and
in warning; he cares nothing for the presence of God
which his sin had forfeited, or for the sorrow of his
brother which his hand had inflicted. And, as such an
one, he can take pains to make himself happy and
honourable in the very place which thus witnessed
against him.

Is this the "way of Cain"? Is this man still?
Yes; and nature outlives a thousand restraints and
improvements. For at the end of Christendom's career
it will even then be said of a generation, "They have
gone in the way of Cain."

This is deeply solemn, beloved, had we but hearts
to feel it. There is, however, a rescued, separated
people. Seth's family are after another order altogether.
They are not seen in cities, furnished with
accommodations and pleasures, apart, like Cain, "from
the presence of the Lord;" but as the household of
God, separated from that world that lay in the wicked
one, to the faith and worship of His name.

.. vspace:: 2

It is the sight of this elect family that has principally
at this time drawn me to this portion of the precious
oracles of God. There is much, I believe, in their
standing and testimony which has instruction for our
souls. Like all else in these chapters, it is but short
notices we get; but great things are to be found in
them.

This family of Seth may generally be thus spoken
of: *They are strikingly opposed to the way of Cain, and
remarkably apprehensive of the way of God*.

I speak not here again of their *faith*, but of their
*standing and testimony*. Their faith, or the character
of their religion, may be read in that of Adam, who
re-appears here at the head of these antediluvian
saints; and his faith (kindred with that of Eve and
Abel, or of all who receive the gospel of the grace of
God) I have already considered. But I speak now of
their standing as a household of God, and of their
testimony in the world.

The Lord had set a mark on Cain, that no one
finding him should slay him. He would not have the
blood of Abel avenged. This we have already seen.

The family of Seth are strictly observant of this.
No attempt, or anything like it, is made by them to
answer the cry of innocent blood. They know that
it is heard in the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth; but,
under this word of God, they are deaf to it themselves.
Vengeance does not belong to them. The harvest has
not come. They are not reapers. In obedience they
heard, not the cry of blood, but the voice of the Lord
countermanding vengeance. And they suffer it. They
take the wrong done to their brother, and are acceptable
with God.

Express charge demanded this, and this was consequently
simple obedience. But the mind of a saint
is full of light. It is the mind of Christ (1 Cor. ii.);
in us, it is true, darkened in a thousand actings of it,
by the coarseness and blindness of nature with which
it is now linked; but still, in itself it is full of light.
Even angelic nature is all life. Torpidity and dulness
do not belong to it. "Winds" and "flames of fire"
express that nature, and such things act constantly
and fervently; and in like virtue the mind of Christ,
the divine nature in the saint, is full of affection and
intelligence.

We get some of its fine ways of acting in this
household of God.

The innocent blood is to remain unavenged. Its cry
from the earth is not to be answered, at least for the
present. *That* is enough to teach the saint his pilgrim,
heavenly calling. The family of Seth are therefore as
pilgrims and strangers here, and all their habits are
those of heavenly citizens. If the earth be not to be
cleansed, the elect are to be strangers in it with a
heavenly calling.

Beautifully true to the mind of God is this! For
this is the way of God; and it was apprehended by
these saints, more in the light and knowledge of His
most perfect and beautiful ways than many of us,
beloved, who, in the fuller revelations of this present
age, have been so much nourished and instructed. But
it is not the much schooling we get, but the capacity
which sits at the lesson. David wanted capacity for
this same lesson, when he talked of building a house
of cedars, a fixed habitation, for the Lord, while the
land was still defiled with blood. But the Lord (may
I say?) would be, like the antediluvian saints, a stranger
on the earth, a dweller in tents, while blood was staining
it; and that very night rebuked the purpose of the
king of Israel. 1 Chron. xvii.

We have many exhibitions of this way of God in
different forms of it. The Lord, for instance, would
have no altar in Egypt, uncircumcised as that land was.
He would not have a throne in the land (in the full
glory of it) till the day of Solomon, when all was
sanctified for His royal presence. Afterwards the
glory was grieved away by the abominations which
were done in the temple. The captives, in like spirit,
hang their harps on the willows of the Euphrates; for
how could they sing in a strange land, or let the songs
of Zion be heard in Babylon? Separation was the rule
of the divine mind. Separation was holiness. Pollution
demanded it, and faith rose at the bidding. And
with all this the Seth family, the household of God in
earliest days--days before the flood--are in company.
They are one in spirit with Jehovah Himself in Egypt,
with the glory in the defiled temple, with the harps of
the captives in Babylon, and with the Church of God
in "this present evil world."

We have to distinguish between these two things:
*God's assertion of His title to the earth, and God's call of
a people out of the earth*.

These different things have been again and again
exhibited in the progress of the dispensations. And
they have been exhibited, as I have long judged,
alternately.

The Lord began, in Adam, to claim and display His
rights on the earth. The man in the garden was to
own the sovereignty of God, and the earth was the
rest and the delight of the Lord, and the place of His
glory.

Sin entering and polluting all, and the pollution
being left uncleansed, in Seth God called a people
away from the earth to an inheritance in heaven.

Then in Noah the Lord God re-asserted His rights
here, and took up the earth as the place where His
elect might find a home, and His own presence be
known again.

After this Abraham is separated from kindred, and
from country, and from father's house, to be a heavenly
stranger on the earth, with his altar and his tent,
looking for a city whose builder and maker was
God.

Israel, in their day, then take up this mystic tale of
the heavens and the earth, and in the land of Canaan
become the witness of the scene of God's sovereignty.
The ark passes over the river as "the ark of the
covenant of the Lord of all the earth."

And now the Church is set for the full testimony of
heavenly mysteries again; and strangership here is the
divine idea, till our being taken to meet the Lord
in the air.

This wondrous tale these dispensations of God, like
day and night alternate, have thus been telling from
the beginning; and still are telling. And millennial
days ere long will make these pledges good, and be the
glorious substance of these foreshadowings. [#]_


.. [#] Such passages as Eph. i. 10 and Col. i. 20 tell us that both the
   heavens and the earth are equally the scene of divine purposes. And
   the great argument in Rom. xi. instructs us about those purposes, and
   the ways and times of their accomplishment.


Now let me observe, that whenever God arises in this
progress of His counsels to *assert title to the earth*, He
begins by judging and cleansing it. And this, I may
say, *of course*; because, the scene of His purposed glory
and presence being corrupted, He must take the
offence away, for His presence could not brook defilement.
Noah's lordship of the earth was, accordingly,
preceded by the flood carrying away the world of
the ungodly. Israel's inheritance of Canaan under
Jehovah, as the God of all the earth, was prepared
by the judgment of the Amorites and the sword of
Joshua. And the future millennial kingdom, when the
earth is to be the place of the glory again, is (as all
Scripture tells us) to be ushered in by that great
action called "the day of the Lord," with a clearing
out of all that offend, and all that do iniquity.

But the *call of God* is quite of another character.
It proceeds on the principle, that God Himself is apart
from the earth, and is not seeking to have it as the
home of His glory, or the place of His presence; but
seeking a people out of it, to be His, away from it, and
above it. The earth is altogether a stranger to such
a purpose. It is left just as it is found. No judgment,
no visitation of the scene here from the hand of God,
accompanies it.

This was exhibited in Abraham. Abraham was the
object of the call of God; and accordingly the
Canaanites find no rival in him. He does not dispute
with them the title or possession of the soil. He finds
them, and he leaves them, lords of it. He desires only
to pitch his tent and raise his altar on the surface of it
for a season; and then, for another season, to have his
bones laid in the bowels of it.

So with the Church in this age. She is likewise
under the call of God. But her call leaves the Gentiles
in power, as it found them. "Let every soul be subject
to the higher powers." The saints have only to obey
them unreluctantly, or to suffer from them patiently,
according as the demand made by them is or is
not consistent with their subjection to Christ and
the call of God. They cannot strive with the potsherds
of the earth. Peter's sword is to be put up, and Pilate
is to learn that the servants of Jesus cannot fight.
Their warfare is not with flesh and blood. They
are defeated the moment they begin it. The call of
God has marshalled the hosts of God against principalities
and powers on high, and the battle is there.
It does not connect us with the earth. Our *necessities*
do, but not our *call*. We need the fruit of the ground,
the toil of the hand, and the skill of the heart, to
provide things needful for the body. Our necessities
thus connect us with it, and we have to do with it
for their supply; but our call separates us from it.
Joshua went into the possession of the Gentiles, that
his sword might make it the possession of the Lord;
Paul went into the places of the Gentiles, to take out
of them a people unto God, linked with the disallowed
Stone, despised and rejected of men.

The family of Seth were, in like manner, under this
call of God. It was intimated to them by the charge
to leave the blood of Abel unavenged, and they understood
the intimation. If the earth be left in its
defilement, God is not seeking it (as we have now
seen all His ways declare), and this family of faith
are in that secret. They will not seek it either. Cain's
house was in possession of it, and Seth's family will
leave them there, without a rival or a struggle. The
mind of God in them took this knowledge of the way
of God, and of His pleasure touching them; and they
acted on heavenly principles in a blood-stained earth,
whose judgment was now for a time to linger and to
slumber.

I own, beloved, that I greatly admire this fine
expression of the mind of Christ in these earliest
saints. They take the only way which the holiness
of God could sanction. They are "partakers of *His*
holiness." The light they walked in was *God's*; the
holiness they partook of was *God's*. 1 John i. 7; Heb. xii.
10. This is a peculiar thing. That light is not merely
righteousness. It is the light of grace also. Yea, and
the light of heavenly strangership in a polluted world.
It is a light which reproves the course of this world, and
makes manifest other principles and hopes altogether.
There may be righteousness, and the watching and
praying which escapes temptation; but there must be
a walk according to these principles and hopes, to form
a walk "in the light, as He is the light." These earliest
believers beautifully shine there, I believe. They were
not under law. They come between Adam and Moses.
They had not precepts, as I have already shown. But
they were in the light, as God is in the light. And if
afterwards Abram did not need to be told to have his
altar and his tent--if he needed no precept from the
Lord how to order the marriage of his son, or how to
answer the king of Sodom--so these saints of still
earlier days understood the holiness of the call of God,
and took their journey for a heavenly country at the
bidding of the pollution of the earth.

I own indeed, again, that I greatly admire this. It
is the beauty of the Spirit's workmanship in His elect
vessels. All is His. "How great is His goodness,
and how great is His beauty!" They learn the word
in spirit ere the voice of the Spirit uttered it--"Arise,
depart, for this is not your rest; it is polluted."

The details about these antediluvian believers are
very scanty; but through it all there is this heavenly
character. They do not supply history for the world;
but they do supply instruction for the Church. This is
heavenly. No spirit of burning or spirit of judgment
had purged the blood of the earth, and they shrink
instinctively from it. In the spirit of their minds they
leave it. "What communion has light with darkness?
what fellowship has righteousness with unrighteousness?"
their conduct asks. Their *religion* is that of
separation from the world, and so are *their habits*.

They call on the name of the Lord. The name of
the Lord is the revelation He has been pleased to make
of Himself. Immanuel, Jesus, "the Lord our righteousness,"
Jehovah, God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and
the Holy Ghost--these are among His names graciously
and gloriously published by Himself. And "to call on
the name of the Lord" was service or worship of God
in spirit and in truth.

This was the religion of these earliest saints. It
was simply the religion of faith and hope. They worshipped
God, and, apart from the world, they waited
in hope. "The work of faith" and "the patience of
hope" are seen in them. Something of the Thessalonian
spirit breathes in them. For they served the
living and true God, and waited for the Son from
heaven, who had already delivered them. 1 Thess. i.
To "call on the name of the Lord" is faith, and salvation,
and worship. It bespeaks the standing of a
saint, and his spiritual service. It shall come to
pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord
shall be saved. Joel ii.; Rom. x. I will offer to thee
the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the
name of the Lord. Psalm cxvi. And such was their
religion, such was their worship. It was worship in
spirit. No temples, or costly carnal services, or institutions
of man appear.

And in their ways and habits they are only seen as a
people walking across the surface of the earth, till their
bodies are either laid under it, or are translated to
heaven above it. They rejoice, as though they rejoiced
not; they buy, as though they possessed not; they have
wives, as though they had none. All around them is as
Babylon to them, and their harps are on the willows.
Cain's family have all the music to themselves. But
Seth's family are a risen people. Their conversation is
in heaven. They look for no estates or cities. All they
take is an earlier Machpelah. Nothing is told us of
their place or their business. They are strangers where
even Adam was once at home, and, much more, where
Cain still was. We may follow them, and in spirit
abide with them for a day; but where they dwelt we
know not--like the disciples who followed the glorious
Stranger from heaven in the day of His sojourn here.
John i. 38, 39. They are without a place or a name.
The earth knew them not. Like the stranger Rechabites,
they are, throughout their generations, one after
another, of the wilderness, and not of the city (Judges
i. 16); or in Levitical language, they were a standing
order of Nazarites, more separated to God than even
Israel themselves.

They are the earliest witnesses of this heavenly
strangership. Such a life is exhibited afterwards in
other saints of God in its fuller, beautiful details; but
we have it here in spirit.

For instance, in Isaac. The world was against him.
But he strives not with it either in deed or in word.
He neither answers nor resists. The Philistines tell
him to go from them. He goes at their bidding. They
spoil him of his labours. He yields and takes it
patiently, as Esek and Sitnah tell us. Gen. xxvi.

So his father Abraham before him. Only, sad to tell
it, it is a *brother* who acts the part of the world in the
scene. Lot chooses, as the world chooses, the well-watered
plain. Abraham suffers, and takes it patiently--though
it was something more galling than the
wrong of a Philistine--the unthankful, selfish way of
one who should have known better, and who owed him
everything. Gen. xiii.

So Israel, in still later days, accepts the insult of
Edom in like spirit. They pleaded for a passage
through their land by the claims of kindred, by
reason of their common origin, by their many toils
and afflictions, by the tokens of the divine favour
toward them, and by their present need as toiling,
way-worn pilgrims through a desert land. But Edom
despised them and threatened. They pleaded again,
but they were insulted again; they suffered it, and took
another road. Num. xx. And so their Lord in the
day of His pilgrimage. He sought another village
when other Edomites of Samaria refused Him. Luke ix.
Precious and happy, thus to put Him at the head
of all that is excellent! The good that is done is *like*
Him, as well as *of* Him. Isaac suffers wrong from
*the world*, and takes it patiently. Abraham suffers
wrong from *one who owed him everything*, and takes
it patiently. Israel suffers likewise from their *kindred*;
but Jesus from those whom *He was serving and blessing
at the cost of everything to Himself*, from the world
which He had made, and from that people whom He
had adopted. And yet "He lays His thunder by," and
goes on His pilgrimage of love and service still.

In like spirit the family of God, in days before the
flood pursue their pilgrim path. They leave the world
to Cain. There is not the symptom of a struggle,
nor the breath of a complaint. They say not, nor
think of saying, "Master, speak to my brother, that
he divide the inheritance with me." In habits of life
and principles of conduct, they are as distinct from
their injurious brother as though they were of another
race, or in another world. Cain's family make *all* the
world's history. They build its cities, they promote
its arts, they conduct its trade, they invent its pleasures
and pastimes. But in all this Seth's family are not
seen. The one generation call their cities after their
own names; the other call themselves by the name
of the Lord. The one do all they can to make the
world their own, and not the Lord's; the other do all
they can to shew themselves to be the Lord's, and not
their own. Cain writes his own name on the earth;
Seth writes the Lord's name on himself.

We may bless the Lord for this vigorous delineation
of heavenly strangership on earth, and ask for grace to
know some of its living power in our souls. It is
this which has drawn me to this portion of the Word
at this time. It reads us a lesson, beloved. And well
indeed, if the instincts of our renewed minds suggest
the same heavenly path with like certainty and clearness.
The call of God leads that way, and all His
teaching demands it. The pastimes and the purposes,
the interests and the pleasures, of the children of
Cain are nothing to these pilgrims. They declare
plainly that they refuse the thought, that there is any
capacity in the earth, as it is now, to give them satisfaction.
They are discontented with it, and make no
attempts to have it otherwise. There lay their moral
separation from the way of Cain and his household.
They were not mindful of the country around them,
but sought a better, that is, a heavenly. [#]_ May I not
therefore say of them, as I have said, that they are
strikingly opposed to the way of Cain, and remarkably
apprehensive of the way of God?


.. [#] What I say of this antediluvian family is only as we see them in
   Genesis v. I doubt not, as under every trial of man, failure and
   corruption are witnessed. But I speak merely of their standing and
   testimony as given to us here. Sons and daughters, as we are told,
   were born to them, generation after generation, and seeds of apostasy
   were sown and sprang up among them, I doubt not. But this does
   not at all affect the lesson we get from this fifth chapter.


After this pattern the Lord would have us: in the
world, but not of it; of heaven, though not as yet
(except in Christ) in it. Paul, in the Holy Ghost, would
so have us, taking example from those whose "conversation
is in heaven." Peter, in the same Spirit, would
so have us "as strangers and pilgrims" abstaining from
fleshly lusts. James summons us, in the same Spirit, to
know that "the friendship of the world is enmity with
God." And John separates us as by a stroke: "We are
of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness."

It is for the Church surely, beloved, to walk in this
elevation and separateness. What is according to the
call of God, and what worthy of heavenly hopes, but
this? We breathe but feebly, and glow but faintly,
in company with those and like witnesses. What a
temper of soul, it has just struck me, we get in such
a chapter as Phil. iv.! What a glow is felt throughout
it! What depth and fervency of affection! What a
shout of triumph the spirit raises! What elevation
in the midst of changes, perplexities, and depressions!
The apostle's whole temper of soul throughout that
chapter is uncommon. But if one may speak for
others, it is to us little more than the tale of a distant
land, or the warmth and brilliancy of other climes
reported to our souls by travellers.

Lead us, Lord, we pray thee! Teach us indeed to
sing--

   |
   |  "We're bound for yonder land,
   |    Where Jesus reigns supreme;
   |  We leave the shore at His command,
   |    Forsaking all for Him.
   |
   |  "'T were easy, did we choose,
   |    Again to reach the shore--
   |  But that is what our souls refuse,
   |    We'll never touch it more."
   |

But surely it is one thing to be the advocate of
Christianity, and another to be the disciple of it. And
though it may sound strange at first, far easier is it to
*teach* its lessons than to *learn* them. But so our souls
know full well.

We have, however, still to look at the *destiny* and
*endowments* of these saints, as we have already looked
at their *faith*, their *virtues*, and their *religion*.

The translation of Enoch was the first formal testimony
of the great divine secret, that *man was to have
a place and inheritance in the heavens*. By creation he
was formed for the earth. The garden was his habitation,
Eden his demesne, and all the earth his estate.
But now is brought forth the deeper purpose, that God
has an election from among men, destined, in the everlasting
counsels of abounding grace, for heaven.

In the course of ages and dispensations after this,
this high purpose of God was only dimly and
occasionally, slowly and gradually, manifested. But in
the person of Enoch it is made to shine out at once.
The heavenly calling at this early moment, and in the
bosom of his elect and favoured household, declares
itself in its full lustre. This great fact among the
antediluvian patriarchs anticipates in spirit the hour of
Mount Tabor, the vision of the martyred Stephen, and
the taking up of the saints in the clouds to meet the
Lord in the air.

Such was the high destiny of the elect people.

The prophecies of Enoch and of Lamech are samples
of their endowments. And rich indeed, worthy of
their dignity, these endowments were. For those
prophecies under the Holy Ghost tell us that glorious
secrets had been entrusted to them. They were
treated as in the place of friends. "Shall I hide from
them," the Lord was saying to them, as afterwards to
Abraham, "that thing which I do?" For such privileges
belong only to dignity. See Gen. xviii. 18. And
if Abraham knew the doom of Sodom beforehand,
Enoch, in a deeper, larger sense, knew the doom of the
whole world beforehand. And his prophecy lets out a
mystery of solemn and wondrous glory--that the
heavenly saints are to accompany the Lord in the day
of His power and judgment. And, as of a character
equal with this, Lamech's, which comes after, in its
turn, with happier anticipations, sketches the scene
that lies beyond the judgment, days of millennial
blessedness, "the days of heaven upon the earth." The
Lord has not given up the earth for ever. And these
saints before the flood can speak of that great mystery
even before the bow in the cloud becomes the token of
it. But they know the judgment of it must come first;
and they can speak of that mystery also before the
fountains of the great deep were broken up.

Rich endowments in the Spirit thus attach to their
high personal dignity with God. As with the Church
now. "Stewards" they were "of the mysteries of
God." They could "sing of mercy and of judgment;"
unto God and of His counsels they could sing. Profoundest
secrets feed their souls. "The deep things of
God," the things both of prophets and apostles, the
things of the epistles and the apocalypse, are theirs.
Paul was entrusted with the circumstances of the
heavenly calling. He speaks of our being caught up
in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and of that
great expectation as being our comfort and relief
against the day of the Lord and its terrors; Enoch in
himself, long before, illustrated that very thing. John
speaks of the raptured saints accompanying the Lord
in the day of His power, joining in the breaking of
the potter's vessel, and in the warfare of the Rider on
the white horse; Enoch in his prophecy, long before,
testified the same. Jude 14, 15. Prophets tell of the
wilderness by-and-by rejoicing, and of the desert
blossoming, of the blessed One renewing the face of
the earth, and instead of the brier, the myrtle flourishing;
but long before Lamech had told of this same
comfort in the earth again, and this rest for man from
the curse of the ground. Gen. v. 29.

Rich indeed were these endowments in the Holy
Ghost. There is even peculiar vividness in these
earliest utterances of the prophetic spirit. There is
commonly a haze over the distance. It is not clear, as
if it were the foreground. Indistinctness invests it.
And this, in contrast with the nearer landscape, only
heightens the impression of the whole. So the notices
of the prophets, and the things reported by apostles.
They are delivered in different style. Properly so. The
haze of distance commonly invests the communications
we get of the future. Such is the perfectness of the
way of the Spirit. The very drapery under which the
distant or the future appears sets it off fitly. Clearness,
or literal definiteness, would be offensive, as glare or
nakedness. This is commonly so, and this is all
admirable. But if *at times* the distance is illuminated,
we can delight in it; and in these earliest notices the
latest scenes of divine action are thus set off in strange
and beautiful distinctness.

Such was the heavenly calling, its virtues, its dignity,
and its endowments, of this antediluvian family of God.
The end of their path was heavenly also, as heavenly
as any feature of it. I speak not of the *fact* of its
ending in heaven, but of the very *style* in which it so
ended. No sign among the nations gave notice of it.
No times or seasons had to mark or measure it. No
stated age or numbered years had to spend themselves.
No voice of prophecy had so much as hinted the blessed,
rapturous moment. "Enoch walked with God, and he
was not, for God took him." Nothing peculiar ushered
forth that glorious hour. No big expectations or strange
events gave token of its coming. It was the natural
heavenly close of an undeviating heavenly journey.

It was otherwise with Noah afterwards. Great
preparation was made for his deliverance. Years also
spent themselves--appointed years. But not so our
heavenly patriarch. Noah was carried through the
judgment; but Enoch, before it came, was borne to the
place out of which it came. [#]_


.. [#] I am not careful to apply all this, as I believe it may be applied.
   I rather leave it in the way of a suggestion. But it does seem to me
   that the Lord, *speaking of the Jewish election*, takes Noah for His
   text or type (Matt. xxiv.); while the apostle, *addressing the Church*,
   takes his language the rather from the translation of Enoch. 1 Thess.
   iv. 17; 2 Thess. ii. 1. For the Jewish remnant, like Noah, will be
   carried through the judgment-—the saints now gathering will be in
   the sphere out of which the judgment is to be poured. For we are
   taught again and again, as I have noticed before, that exercise of
   power in that day, in company with the Lord, is part of the glory of
   the saints. See Col. iii. 4; Rev. ii. 26; xvii. 14; xix. 14.


And if the days and years did not measure it, nor
signs announce it, did the world, I ask, witness it?
Or was it, though so glorious and great, silent and
secret?

The language of the apostle seems to give me my
answer, and so does all the analogy of Scripture. He
"was not found, because God had translated him." This
sounds as though man had been a stranger to that
glorious hour. The world seems to have inquired and
searched after him, like the sons of the prophets after
Elijah; but in vain. 2 Kings ii. 17; Heb. xi. 5. And
this tells us that the translation had been a secret to
man; for they would not have searched, had they
seen it.

All scriptural or divine analogy answers me in like
manner. Glory, in none of its forms or actions, is for
the eye or ear of mere man.

Horses and chariots filled the mountain; but the
prophet's servant had to get his eye opened ere he
could see them. Daniel saw a glorious stranger, and
heard his voice as the voice of a multitude; but the
men who stood with him saw nothing--only a terror
fell on them. The glory on "the holy hill" shone only
in the sight of Peter, James, and John, though the
brightness there at that moment (night as it was)
might have lighted up all the land; for the divine
face "did shine as the sun." Many bodies of saints
arose, attendants on the Lord's rising; but it was only
to some in the holy city they showed themselves. The
heaven was opened over the head of the martyr of
Jesus, in the very midst of a multitude; but the glory
was seen only by him. Paul went to Paradise, and
Philip to Azotus; but no eye of man tracked either
the flight or the journey. And beyond all, when Jesus
rose, and that, too, from a tomb of hewn stone, and
from amid a guard of wakeful soldiers, no ear or eye
was in the secret. It was a lie, that the keepers of
the stone slept; but it is a truth, that they saw no
more of the resurrection than had they done so.
Silence and secrecy thus mark all these glorious
transactions. Visions, audiences, resurrections, flights,
ascensions, the glory down here, and the heaven opened
up there, all these go on, and yet mere man is a
stranger to all. And the translation of Enoch takes
company with all these, I assuredly judge; and so, I
further judge, will another glorious hour soon to come,
in which "they that are Christ's" are *all* to be
interested.

.. vspace:: 2

I have now reached and closed the fifth chapter.
The first part of the Book of Genesis will be found to
end here. For these chapters (i.-v.) constitute a little
volume.

I.  This chapter opens the volume with the work of
creation.

II.  Creation being complete, the Lord, the Creator,
takes His delight in it; and in the midst of it, and
over it, places the man whom He had formed in His
own image, with all endowments and possessions to
make his condition perfect.

III.  Man, thus made perfect, being tried and overcome,
we see the *ruin* which he wrought, and the
*redemption* which God provided.

IV.  V.  These chapters then show us one branch of
this ruined, redeemed family choosing the ruins, and
another branch of it delighting in the redemption.

This is simple, and yet perfect. The tale is told--a
tale of other days; but in the results and sympathies
of which we live at this hour.

It is the sight of the elect, believing, heavenly household,
which we get in this little volume, which has
at this time drawn my thoughts to it. They walked
on earth as we should walk; but they were, by their
faith, hope, and destiny, all the while, very near
heaven, as we are.

Are we touching the skirts of such glory with
unaffected hearts, beloved? Does anything more
humble you in His presence, I ask you (for my own soul
has already given its answer), than the conviction we
have of the little estimation in which the heart holds
His promised glory? It is terrible discovery to make
of oneself. That we have but small delight in the
provisions of His goodness, is more terrible than that
we have no answer to the demands of His righteousness.
And yet both stand in proof against us. After Israel
had left Egypt, they were tested by the voice of the
law; but the golden calf tells that they had no answer
for it. In the progress of their journey, they are tested
by the firstfruits of Canaan; but the desired captain
tells that they had no relish for the feast. And what
is the heart of man still? What was it in Christ's
day? The parable of the marriage of the king's son,
like the captain of the wilderness, tells us that there
is no relish there for the table which God spreads.
What are singing men and singing women to a heavy
ear? The pleasant land is despised still. Canaan is
not worth the scaling of a single wall, or an encounter
with one Amalekite. The farm, the merchandise, and
the wife, are made the captain to take us back, in spite
of the invitations of love and the treasures of glory.

Terrible discovery! And yet it is not hard to make
it. The proof of it clings pretty close to us. We
know how quickly present interests move us; how loss
depresses and profit elates us; and then, again, we
know how dull the glory glitters, if but a difficulty or
a hazard lie this side of it.

Are we sorry because of this, beloved? Does it ever
break the heart into sighs and groans before our God?
Sad and solemn, if we feel it not thus--and terrible,
when we deliberately talk to ourselves of making a
captain again. And this we do when the pastime and
the pleasures of the sons of men again give animation
to our hearts, or when their honours or their pursuits
become again our objects. Lot's wife, beloved, had got
beyond Sodom, and that, too, in company with the
elect, when it was found that she was still there, in
such a sense as to perish with the city. Israel was
as far as the wilderness of Paran, and that, too, in
company with the ark of God, when it was proved
that they were still amid the flesh-pots of Egypt.
Serious remembrances for us all! holy warnings, that
we wanton not with those lusts and enjoyments, which
once we watched and mortified.

.. vspace:: 2

"Of that day and hour knoweth no man"--are the
solemn words by which the Lord refuses to pledge
the moment of His return to His Jewish remnant.
Matt. xxiv. 36. That moment is to be to them as the
thief of the night, or as the hour of the woman in
travail. So as to death. If it come on any of us
without a moment's warning, the Lord has not been
untrue to any pledge He has given. And so as to the
rapture. In no case is the day or the hour pledged
or made known. All is included in *one* word of deep
and holy import--"Watch"--and that one word is
addressed to all: "What I say unto you, I say unto
all, Watch."

Whether the close to us be by death or rapture--whether
it be to Israel by being taken or left--the day
and the hour remain alike untold; no pledge of it is
promised at all. Each and all are set on the watch-tower.
*We* wait for "the Son from heaven;" *they*
will have to wait for "the days of the Son of man;"
but neither of us know the hour that closes the
waiting.

That is common to them and to us. We stand in
equal condition with them as to this. But together
with this there is a difference.

The Jewish Remnant are given signs. That is, they
are told of certain things which *must* precede "the
days of the Son of man," though they are left ignorant
of the day or the hour of that appearing. See Matt.
xxiv. 32-36. The saints now gathering to the hope
of the "Son from heaven" are, on the contrary, not given
any such signs, or told of any necessary precursory
events.

The Lord communicated His *purpose* of judgment
to Noah, but said nothing to him of the *time* of it.
But Noah knew that it could not be till his ark was
built. He knew not the time when the waters were
to rise; but he knew they could not rise till he and
his were lodged in safety. This was a sign, or an
event necessarily forerunning the close of his history.
And so with the earthly Israel. Circumstances must
take place, though the day or the hour of it be not
known, ere the Son of man can be here on earth
again. But not so with Enoch. No circumstance
necessarily delayed his translation. His walk with
God was not a circumstance. And that was all that
led the way to his ascension. And so with the Church
now gathering. She waits for no circumstance--no
years measure her sojourn here; no events prepare
her heavenward way. She is not put, like the Jewish
election, under the restraint of any signs or preceding
circumstances.

The Lord treats it as *deceit* to say "the time draweth
nigh;" while the apostle *expressly puts us under those
words*. Luke xxi. 8; James v. 8. *After certain signs
or events*, the Lord tells the remnant that their expectation
is near; the apostle tells us that ours is
*always so*. Matt. xxiv. 33; Phil. iv. 5. The Lord
exhorts the remnant to watch, because the day may
otherwise overtake them; the apostle exhorts us to
watch, because we are already of the day, and it is
fit that we should act as day-men. Matt. xxiv. 43;
1 Thess. v. 5, 6.

Here lies a difference. But still, all are equally
commanded to watch--we in this our day, as ever
knowing that "the end of all things is at hand," and
the remnant, in their coming day, even though they
know that some events must go before.

And beautiful and just this is. For if the things
threatened be profoundly solemn, as they are, and the
things promised be unspeakably glorious, as they are,
it is but little to require of us to *treat them as supreme*--and
that, in other words, is *watching*.

And the sense of the nearness of the glory should
be cherished by us. I mean its nearness in *place* as
well as time. And we need be at no effort to persuade
ourselves of it. It is taught us very clearly and surely.
The congregation of Israel were set at the door of the
tabernacle, and as soon as the appointed moment came
the glory was before them. See Lev. viii. ix. So at the
erection of the tabernacle, and so at the introduction of
the ark into the temple. Ex. xl.; 2 Chron. v. So when
it had business to do (though of different characters)
with the company on Mount Tabor, with the dying
Stephen, or with Saul on the road to Damascus--wherever
it may have to act, and whatever it may be
called to do, to convict, to cheer, or to transfigure--to
smite to the earth the persecutor, to give triumph to
the martyr, or to conform an elect Vessel to itself, it
can be present in a moment, in the twinkling of an
eye. It is but a thin veil, which either hides it or
distances it. The path is short, and the journey rapidly
accomplished. We should cherish the thought of this,
beloved. It has its power as well as its consolation.
And so ere long, when the time of 1 Cor. xv. 51 arrives,
that moment of the general transfiguration, as soon as
the voice of the archangel summons it, the glory will
be here again, as in the twinkling of an eye, to do its
business with us, and in the image of the heavenly to
bear us up, like Enoch, to the heavenly country.

Then shall the Lord be glorified in His saints--not
as now, in their obedience and service, their holiness
and fruitfulness, but in their *personal* beauty. Arrayed
in white, and shining in our glories, we shall be the
wondrous witness of what He has done for the sinner
that trusts in Him. And as one much loved and
honoured in the Lord has just written to me, so I
write to you, beloved: "No lark ever sprang up on a
dewy morning to sing its sweet song with such alacrity
as you and I shall spring up to meet our Lord in the
air." And his exhortation to me I would make mine
to you (though feebly echoed from my heart): "Oh, my
brother, set it before your mind's eye as a living reality,
and then let hope patiently wait for the fulfilment!"

.. vspace:: 2

.. class:: center medium

"Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus."

.. vspace:: 4

.. class:: center large

   _`NOAH`.

.. class:: center medium

   GENESIS VI.-XI.

.. vspace:: 2

How changed is the whole condition of things since
the day of Genesis!

Were I to read the opening of this fine scripture,
and just expose my heart to the simpler earliest
impression of what I get there, it is this thought
which would engage my mind; and yet with all
ease we can account for this strange and wondrous
revolution. In chapter i. God was alone, producing
the fruit of His own handiwork, in wisdom, goodness,
and skill; and then all was good and desirable. On the
return of every evening and morning the divine delights
lingered over what the divine hand was working out,
and behold all was very good; and the seventh day
was sanctified for the celebration of this rest and
enjoyment. But now, it is not God's hand presenting a
perfect work to God's thoughts and affections, but it is
man, the apostate artificer, spreading out a wide scene
of corruption and violence for the grief and repentings
of the divine mind. The secret of the change lies there.
Man has been at work; man has been fashioning and
furnishing the scene, and not the living, blessed God.
The earth is therefore filled with violence; giants there
are, mighty men, men of renown; and the imaginations
of that heart which was now making "this present evil
world" are only evil, and that continually.

Here lies the secret. The change was complete because
of the new potter that had been at the wheel;
the change could not be less. The song of the morning
stars, the shout of the sons of God, had no echo in the
scene of creation now; man was now abroad--not as a
part of the work, but as a reprobate workman.

It is just this which gives character to the opening
of chapter vi. And there is no relief for all this in
the creature--the best sample and portion it could
offer is itself defiled. The sons of God themselves
are dragged into the mire--their will, their desire, their
taste, are supreme with them. The daughters of Moab
have seduced to fornication; and the Nazarites, who
were purer than snow and whiter than milk, whose
polishing was of sapphire, are become blacker than a
coal. The witness against them is, "he also is flesh."

If Adam was seduced by the subtilest of enemies,
and followed the sight of his eye and the desire of
his heart, the sons of God are now seduced by an
enemy equally successful. He works, it is true, from
within rather than without--"he also is flesh"--but
the sight of the eye and the desire of the heart are
again followed. Wives are taken of all "whom they
choose;" other lords are listened to, for God is not in
all their thoughts, and then it matters not whether it
be the promise of the serpent, or the fairness of the
daughters of men. Gen. iii. 4, 5.

The multiplying of men on the face of the earth is
noticed as connected with all this corruption--just as
in the history of the Church. Acts vi. 1. It was
when the number of disciples was multiplied that
murmurings and disputings began to arise; and these
kindred cases in Genesis vi. and Acts vi. tell us that
man is never to be trusted, and that the more we get
of him the worse things are. "Jesus did not commit
Himself to them, for He knew all men, and needed
not that any should testify of man, for He knew what
was in man."

Such was the condition of the scene from one end
to the other; and against all this corruption and violence
which now overspread the earth, the judgment
of God is marked--"My spirit shall not *always* strive
with man." There may be, and there shall be, a term
of long-suffering--as it is said, "his days shall be one
hundred and twenty years"--but still judgment is
marked, and the day of visitation will come--the
Spirit will not *always* strive.

But there is resource in God, as well as judgment
with Him. If man, the work of His *hand*, have
"grieved" Him, still, drawing from Himself, He will
(may I say?) go deeper, and find His joy in the counsels
of His *heart*.

"Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord." Man, as
a sinner, shall become the object of electing, pardoning,
justifying love--he shall engage the *heart* now, as of
old, at creation, he engaged the *hand* of the Lord.

Thus from Himself the Lord draws, but from Himself
in a deeper sense and way than before. This was
to be no more repairing of the creature--such a thing
would have been no fit work for God. As to man,
God had to repent that He had made him on the
earth; and as to the scene around him, the mind of
God was changed--changed unalterably, and for ever.
Man, as a thing formed of the dust, was never to be
the divine delight again--mere man. But grace can
make a new thing--not repairing the work marred on
the wheel, but making it another vessel, as it seem
good to the potter to make it. In its old estate it
was ruined, but in its ruins grace will take it up to
make it a goodly and a pleasant vessel of richest
treasures and all-desirable beauty.

We admire a ruin; and some, as they have thought
of this, have suspected the *moral* of such a sentiment,
and been ready to condemn the heart and eye that
could linger with pleasure over what was the witness
of decay and death, and the entrance of the power of
sin. But I would venture to embolden such, and to
tell them that they may still admire a ruin, and do so
without fear or self-judgment. The redeemed thing is
a vast, and precious, and beautiful ruin; it will bespeak
the power of sin and death for ever, while displaying
the boundless, glorious victory of death's Destroyer.
And the thoughts of the Spirit of God, the mind of
Christ, as well as heaven itself and all its hosts, will
linger over that ruin for a happy eternity. It will be
the ornament and the delight of the creation of God.
"Sing, O ye heavens; for the Lord hath done it! Shout,
ye lower parts of the earth; break forth into singing,
ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein; for the
Lord hath redeemed Jacob!" And again, "Joy shall
be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more
than over ninety-and-nine just persons which need no
repentance."

This is heaven's admiration of a beautiful ruin; and
these are the ways of God. The operations of His
hands were, of old, His delight, and the counsels of
His grace are now His delight, and the attending
angels have their music, and their dancing in the house
of the prodigal's Father.

Noah, having thus found grace in the eyes of the
Lord, becomes the subject of divine teaching. An elect
vessel is always the vessel for the handiwork of God,
through the Spirit. The Lord communicates His mind
to him; He tells him that the judgment of an evil
world, which had now filled up its measure, was
marked before Him, but that for him and his house
there was safety, and a great deliverance.

This communication has a very precious character
in it--*it is strictly according to the previous counsel of
His own bosom*. This is very much to be prized. God
tells His elect one, that the end of all flesh was come
before Him--as, in His own secret counsels He had
already said, "My spirit shall not *always* strive with
man;" He tells him of the sense and judgment He
had of the *moral* condition of the earth--just such as
He had uttered in secret before; and, further, He tells
him to get ready an ark for the saving of his house, as,
in the counsels of His electing love and sovereign
purpose, Noah had already found grace in His eyes.

It is very establishing to the heart to notice this.
It lets us understand how *exactly* the revelation made
to us puts us into possession of the divine mind,
"Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do?"
says the Lord, on another occasion, when He was, as
here, speaking to Himself. And a *fulness*, as well as
exactness, I may say, distinguishes these revelations.
Jesus says to His disciples, "*All* things that I have
heard of my Father I have made known unto you"--with,
however, one exception. The Lord God had
fixed 120 years as the term of His longsuffering.
Noah's preaching, as well as ark-building, was to be
for that period. Such was the purpose of God. But
Noah was told nothing of this predestinated interval.
The Lord kept back all mention of the 120 years.
Noah knew, indeed, that the waters could not prevail
till he and his were safe in the ark, but how long that
might be preparing, or whether or not, after it was
finished, any time should pass ere the waters should
begin to rise, he knew not. This part of the divine
counsel the Father kept in His own power; this was
the exception to the fulness of the communication.
Events were to take place, signs were to precede "the
day of the Lord"--such, at least, as the finishing and
filling of the ark. In the language of the prophet,
the bud was to become tender, and to put forth its
leaves. Had any one talked to Noah about the
waters rising ere the ark was ready, Noah would not
have been shaken in mind, or in anywise troubled.
That could not be. "The time draweth nigh" would
have been deceit then, as it will be by-and-by, when
the earthly remnant, or election, are, like Noah, waiting
for redemption. Luke xxi. 8. But still, the period
itself, the term of the divine longsuffering, was put
in the Father's power, and no one knew the day nor
the hour. So rich and full are those harmonies in
earlier and latter days, in typical and closing actions
of God's hand. Noah was at this time an *earthly* man--that
is an elect one destined for inheritance in the
earth, as the nation of Israel, by-and-by, will be; and
both of them, in their several days, are provided, by
divine instructions, against the deceits which might
alarm them, or the promises which might seduce them;
but the day and hour of their deliverance are not
told.

The ark, in the size, fashion, and material of it, is
entirely the prescription of God. Noah has but to
make it--the Lord plans it as well as appoints it.
The making of it is only the trial and the proof of
faith--"by faith Noah, moved with fear, prepared an
ark to the saving of his house." Israel fashioning the
sanctuary, in after days, was a like act of faith. They
had to make it, and make it they did, with willing
hearts and ready service, yielding their brass, and their
silver, and their gold, their fine linen, badgers' skins,
shittim-wood, oil, spices, and precious stones. But all
this was only the obedience of faith to the way of
deliverance and peace, which God Himself had planned
and revealed. They made the sanctuary as Noah
made the ark; but neither was his act nor their
act anything more than faith in the provisions of God.
And what is the gospel, and faith in the gospel, to this
hour, but such a revelation of the provisions of grace,
and such obedience to that revelation? The religion of
the elect has ever been the same--"It is of faith, that
it might be by grace." Faith in God's sovereign provisions
was Adam's religion at the beginning, then it
was Noah's, afterwards it was the religion of Abraham,
and of every true Israelite; and so at this day it is
ours. We all, as well as Adam, come forth from our
shame, and fear, and confusion of conscience, at the
tidings of the bruised and bruising Seed of the woman.
We all, as well as Noah, prepare an ark for salvation,
and become heirs of the righteousness which is by
faith; we all as well as Israel, betake us from the fiery
hill to the sanctuary of enthroned mercy--and Jesus,
Jesus, is the name borne along the line, from one end
of it to the other, of patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and
saints, Gentile and Jewish, small and great, in the
deep-toned melody that is to charm the eternity of
heaven.

It is not merely mercy. Heaven knows no such
thought. Neither is it simple, naked promise. It is
*propitiation* and victory, and *purchased* as well as promised
blessings.

Inspect the sanctuary of God and you will find that
it is not mere mercy that is there. It is enthroned
mercy, mercy on the ark of the covenant, mercy sustained
by the work and on the person of the Son of
God. And faith has respect only to such a mystery
as that. Faith never talks of mere mercy. It could
not. It could no more talk of mere mercy in God
than it could of moral righteousness in man. The
gospel does not know such ideas, and therefore faith
cannot apprehend them. The gospel reveals One who
is just, while justifying the ungodly. Mercy and truth
have met together. It is glory to God in the highest
while it is peace and good will to men. This is the
way of the gospel.

Abraham is in the faith of this, as we see in Genesis
xv. The Lord had said to him, "I will give thee this
land to inherit it." This was a promise, the promise too
of One that could not lie. It was an immutable thing.
And Abraham rightly listened to this. As a sinner, who
knew full well and full justly, that promises to such an
one must have foundations and warranty, he listened to
it; therefore he at once says, "Whereby shall I know
that I shall inherit it?" Is this a challenge of the
promise? Is this a question of the divine truthfulness?
No, indeed. It is only faith letting God know, that it
was a conscious sinner who was listening to His promise,
which needed therefore some warranty, or consideration,
to carry it with certainty to the heart. And the Lord
was well pleased with this. Faith always pleases Him,
as without it nothing does. And at once He prepares to
let Abraham know that *sacrifice sustained the promise*.

Our patriarch, before Abraham, was in the like faith.
And walking in the steps of the same faith he takes an
advanced character. He attains righteousness. "Thee
have I seen righteous before me in this generation,"
is now the word of God to him. "By faith Noah, being
warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with
fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house; by the
which he condemned the world, *and became heir of the
righteousness which is by faith*."

Love, and faith, and the patience of hope were,
however, each to animate his soul, and form his life,
for that solemn interval of 120 years. While the ark
was preparing, the Spirit, in Noah's preaching, was
striving with that generation. Nothing can be more
beautifully replete with meaning than all this. Noah
was in the work of faith, the labour of love, and the
patience of hope--a true Thessalonian saint. He was
preparing the ark in that faith which had received the
divine warning--in love he was telling his generation
of righteousness. 2 Peter ii. 5. Just like a saint of this
day. His own safety is settled and sure--*that* he
knows; but he is careful that his neighbours should
share it with him. The Spirit then strove in the
testimony as now He strives; but every stroke of
Noah's hammer day by day told that He would not
*always* strive.

At the close of this predestinated but undisclosed
period, Noah enters the ark. This was the great salvation
in a mystery. It was as the night of Egypt's doom and
Israel's rescue. Nothing less than safety and deliverance
under the fullest securities and dearest title in an
hour of most solemn judgment, was now the story of
Noah. And this is the salvation of the gospel. In
Egypt afterwards, the very hand which carried the
sword of destruction along the land had appointed the
sheltering blood. Could the sword strike? Impossible!
And now it was He, who took counsel with Himself
about the judgment of the world, who had also counselled
His elect about the way of escape. It was the
hand which was about to let the waters out which was
now shutting Noah in. Could they then prevail against
him! Just, in like manner, impossible!

   |
   |  "The voice that speaks in thunder
   |  Says, 'Sinner, I am thine.'"

The One to whom vengeance belongs has settled all
the plan of safety. He that is bearing the sword into
the land has appointed the scarlet line in the window.
But a solemn scene of judgment accompanies all this.
The sun was risen on the earth, as, after this, Lot
entered into Zoar. And yet that sunny hour was the
very time for the rain of brimstone and fire to fall.
Nothing could be done till Lot entered the city, but
then nothing remained to be done ere the fire came
down.

How deeply was the moment of visitation hid!
They might well have said, "Peace and safety," when
they saw that morning sun, as he was wont, gilding
the bright and happy surface of the scene around them.
But even then the "sudden destruction" fell.

Noah's generation was eating, and drinking, and
marrying, just as the water began to rise. There was
no harbinger, save, like Lot's escape to Zoar, Noah's
entrance into the ark. But that was folly. To imprison
himself and all that he had in the sides of a
ship aground, that *was* folly. But the flood came in
the moment of fancied security, and took them all away.
They were "willingly ignorant" of the word of God,
the testimony of the "preacher of righteousness;" one
who addressed them in the power and on the principle
of a resurrection hope. 1 Peter iii.

Sudden and sure destruction on all outside, but
divine, infallible security on all within. The city of
refuge was *appointed of God*, and its walls must be
salvation. Impossible to be less. The same righteousness
which has pronounced a curse on every one that
continueth not in all things written in the book of
the law to do them, has likewise pronounced a curse
on every one that hangeth on a tree. Gal. iii. Can
He then deny His own remedy to the sinner, cursed
under the law, when he pleads, by faith, the Saviour
cursed on the tree? Alike, impossible.

"The Lord shut him in." The hand of the Lord
imparted its own strength and security to Noah's
condition. It is not too bold to say, that all within
the door of the ark were as safe as the Lord Himself.
The Lord returned, we may say, to His own heavens,
or to His throne, which is established for ever,
and Noah was left on the earth, in the place and
day of judgment. But Noah was as safe as the Lord.
"We may have boldness in the day of judgment:
because as He is, so are we in this world." Jesus has
gone back to heaven, and we are still in this world,
the judgment of which is marked before God; but we
have the boldness which is proper to Jesus. Wonderful
to utter it! And yet is all that mysterious, glorious
security figured in that little action, "The Lord shut
him in." God's own hand imparted its strength to
Noah's condition ere He returned to the heavens.

Some of every sort are borne with Noah from the
place of death into the ark of salvation. The "eight
souls," as Peter speaks, but with them, remnants of
the beasts of the earth, small and great, winged fowl
and creeping things, all are housed and redeemed
together with Noah.

So was it afterwards in Egypt. Not a hoof was
left behind. The great redemption of that day, in
like manner, provided for all--Moses and the 600,000,
with their wives and little ones, and also all their
cattle; all again knew and manifested the saving
strength of God. As in the day of Nineveh, long
after, "the much cattle" are the Lord's thought, as
the six-score thousand persons that could not discern
between their right hand and their left.

And in the coming day of the inheritance of Christ,
His dominions will measure all the works of God's
hand, "All sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of
the field; the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea;"
and the fields and the floods, and the hills and trees of
the wood, shall be joyful before Him. Psalm xcviii.

Welcome mystery! Are they not all His creatures?
Did not His hand of old form them, and His eyes and
His heart rest and delight in them? And is this lost
to Him? May Jonah grieve for his withered gourd,
and the Lord not spare the works of His own hand for
His abiding joy? He will renew the face of the earth,
as it is written--The glory of the Lord shall endure for
ever, the Lord shall rejoice in His works. Psalm civ. 31.
"The earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for
the manifestation of the sons of God. For the creature
was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by
reason of Him who hath subjected the same in hope,
because the creature itself also shall be delivered from
the bondage of corruption into the liberty of the glory
of the children of God."

But it is here that I may pause for a moment, to
notice the dispensational character of these days of
Noah.

.. vspace:: 2

The earth, as the scene of God's delight, and of His
people's citizenship, had been lost by the apostasy of
Adam; and the hopes and inheritance of the saints, all
through the days before the flood, were heavenly--the
Lord thereby disclosing, though faintly, certain portions
of the great secrets of His own bosom--the secrets of
the good pleasure purposed in Himself ere worlds were,
that heaven, as well as earth, should be connected with
the destinies of man. The heavens were opened to man,
when Adam, the man of the earth, failed. Gen. v. 24.

That was so. But earth was not shut because
heaven was thus opened. The divine counsel ran
otherwise. It was this--that God would "gather together
in one all things in Christ, both which are in
heaven, and which are on earth." And the heavenly
calling having been already revealed in the story of
the saints before the flood, the due season had now
come for the revelation of God's great purpose concerning
the earth, and to make it known that He had
not given it up, because, in His dispensational ways,
He had taken up the heavens.

As in Rev. iv. When the heavenly saints, "the
fulness of the Gentiles," the mystic elders and living
creatures, are seated in their heavenly places, the
thoughts of Him who sat on the throne there return
to the earth. The rainbow is *at once* seen around the
throne--the witness of this, that the covenant which
gives security *to the earth* was about to be the spring
of action in heaven. And so now in these days of
Noah. When the heavenly family had ended their
course, and Enoch was translated, the Lord's thoughts
returned to the earth, and that, I may say, *at once*;
for the next thing of character in the progress of the
hand, or the Spirit of God, is the prophecy of Lamech,
pledging God and His mercies to the earth again, and
introducing Noah--"This same [Noah] shall comfort
us concerning our work and toil of our hands, because
of the ground which the Lord hath cursed."

This is all simple--scarcely capable of being misunderstood.
The prophecy of Lamech, which introduces
it, tells us what we are to expect and find in the
mystery of Noah. "The key of the parable lies at
the door." The recovery of the earth, the return of
God's rest and delight in it, all this will be made
good in the coming times of the true Noah, in whom,
and in whom alone, all the promises of God are yea
and amen.

A great action, however, must usher in those times.
The call of the heavenly people is quite otherwise,
as in the call of the antediluvian saints. There was in
those days no interference with the scene around.
Cain's family was left in possession--quiet, undisputed
possession--of their cities and their wealth. The
visitation of God then, as always under such a call,
only separated a people without affecting either to
regulate or judge the world. It left it as it found it.
But God's claim to the earth, and His purpose to take
it up again, is necessarily otherwise. There He is as
*thoroughly interfering with every thing*, as in the other
way of His "manifold wisdom" He was *utterly leaving
all alone*. For by judgment He must purge the earth,
and get it fit to be His footstool.

All this is the dispensational truth we learn here, in
this parable, or in these times of Noah. The earth
has been remembered, and is now resumed, but through
purifying judgments. All takes the sentence of death
into itself, that it may stand as a new thing, in the
strength and grace of Him who quickens the dead.
The earth itself was in the water, or under the water,
and the elect remnant were saved--as in the appointed
city of refuge--from the hand of the avenger; and all
therefore appears again, as in resurrection.

Beasts, and fowl, and creeping things, some of every
sort, go into the ark; and there, within that refuge,
which kept its charge in peace from fear of evil, the
ransomed passed the days of their patience.

But they were more than safe. They were *remembered*--"God
remembered Noah, and every living thing, and
all the cattle that was with him in the ark." So did
Joshua, in other days, remember Rahab. The scene of
death and judgment lay all around our patriarch.
It was one vast, and deep, and mighty ruin--an
extended Jericho the accursed--another and a wider
land of Pharaoh, with the doom of the Lord resting
darkly and heavily upon it. But He who had already
shut His remnant in, now remembers them; and in
that remembrance there was present life, and, in
prospect, a goodly inheritance.

It will be so with another elect remnant, in coming
days. Before the same covenant God, who was now
keeping Noah in mind, a book of remembrance will
be written for them that fear the Lord and think upon
His name. Mal. iii. And of them the Lord says,
"They shall be mine in that day when I make up
my jewels;" as now, in virtue of this covenant-remembrance,
the Lord causes a wind to pass over the earth,
the waters abate, and the ark rests on the mountains
of Ararat.

This remembrance of God was most precious. But
Noah, in his city of refuge, had other consolations.
The divine remembrance was the hidden comfort of
faith; but he had also blessed, conscious exercises
of spirit.

The ark had a window in it. The door was in the
keeping of the Lord, but the window was for Noah's
use. He who had shut him in, alone could let him
out--the times and the seasons were in *His* hand.
But while the time of his pilgrimage, as a prisoner of
hope, cannot be shortened, yet may the hopes of
such a prisoner be very preciously nourished, and his
spirit within him blessedly exercised. Noah may open
the window, remove the covering, look out, and send
forth his messengers, his Caleb and Joshua and their
companions, to spy out the land, and report to him
what it is, whether it be fat or lean, good or bad, and
to bring him the fruit of it.

What beauty and what wisdom strike the eye and
the heart in all this! This window in the ark, and
its uses, are so significant! The divine *methods* are
so worthy of the divine *communications*! "Apples
of gold in pictures of silver" are the Spirit's words.

Typical, symbolic, parabolic teaching is very acceptable
to the heart, and makes ready entrance there.
We all prove this, just as children like pictures and
stories. Not only, I would here observe, are doctrines
thus taught--not only the great mysteries of the glory,
but experiences of the soul, the personal inworkings of
the Spirit, are illustrated by these same methods. Conviction
of sin, for instance, was expressed in Adam
retreating from the voice of the Lord God, amongst the
trees of the garden. The longings and inquiries of a
soul awakened to a sense of its condition, if haply it
might find its path, are given to us in the Israelite
standing at his tent door stripped of his ornaments,
and looking after the Mediator as he entered the
Tabernacle. Ex. xxxiii. And Moses, with his veiled
and unveiled face, might have spoken of exercises and
experiences of heart to us, even had not the Spirit, by
His light in the Apostle, helped our understandings.
2 Cor. iii.

We might go through a thousand such instances.
And by this method the great things of God are
pressed home upon the heart. By these figures the
Lord is standing very near the heart, and knocking
there. It is not His grace displaying itself in the
distance, or shining from afar, but it is the Lord
Himself, and His blessing, coming very near for
our full acceptance. We may *admire*, but if we do
not also *enjoy*, the purpose of the revelation is not
answered.

Now this method is beautifully preserved in these
days of Noah. Indeed the whole of Genesis is full of
it. It is a book of "allegories," as St. Paul speaks--divine
stories written for the school of God.

The ark, as I have already noticed, had its door and
its window, and Noah had his spies to send into the
promised land--and the mission of these spies, the
raven and the dove, express the experience of the
saint in the contrary workings of the flesh and spirit,
which contend in him.

The raven never returns. The earth may be still
unpurged, but the unclean nature can take up with it.
The "present evil world" will do well enough for fallen,
degraded man. Indeed, the ark was rather a place of
captivity than security, to the unclean raven. She
never returns to it when once escaped. But Noah will
not trust her. Beautiful saintly intelligence! The
raven may remain outside; but that is no proof to Noah
that the earth is clean, or fit for the sole of his foot.
Noah will not trust her, but sends out a clean creature
after her. And different indeed are the tidings which
she bears. It is, in principle, the contest of Caleb and
Joshua with their companion spies. The dove returns
instinctively. There was no rest for her in a place still
under judgment of God, and unpurged. And Noah,
conscious that he can trust her and commit the question
to her settlement, sends her out a second and a third
time. And well indeed he may trust her. Her only
sympathy is with the pledges of peace and of a new
creation. On her second return she bears an olive-leaf
in her mouth, and after her third mission she
never comes back.

Beautiful mystery! The earth was redeemed from
the curse now, and in its new-creation state the dove
can delight. All is native air to her. It is now the
land of the turtle and the olive, and Noah understands
the absence of this clean creature. He at once removes
the covering from the ark, and looks out; and the God
of glory shortly lets him out, as the God of all grace
had before shut him in.

Surely the ways of a saint, the ways of the mind
of Christ, are here! I know not that any action can
be more pregnant with meaning. There was the ark,
and its window, and its door. The ark itself was for
safety, the window for a prospect, and the door for
an exodus, in due season. All this was faith and hope
ending their pilgrimage in the place of promised glory.

Noah suspected not the ark; he did not occupy
himself in feeling its timbers, whether indeed they
were keeping the waters outside--he had no doubt of
that. He had no pump in his ship, if I may be
allowed the figure; and I may utter it, since, homely
as it is, it glorifies Jesus in the security He gives the
sinner; for such is the very style of Scripture itself.

The lesson taught us may be the profoundest in the
mind of the Spirit, but the school where it is learnt may
be a despised place. Look, for instance, at Genesis xlviii.
You are there at the bedside of a dying old man--a
common homely spot. But there, some of the deepest
and richest secrets of the mind of God are, in a figure,
conveyed to us--the great mystery of our adoption,
according to divine good pleasure; and then our welcome
into the family of God, in the day of our manifestation,
or conversion. And what richer counsels of grace are
there than those? And yet in what more common or
homely school could they have been taught us?

As in still earlier days, in Genesis xvi. There you
are introduced to the domestic arrangement of Abraham's
family as to the servant and her mistress, and
their disputes; and yet, in all that, you get the 
profound mystery of the two covenants. Gal. iv. And
again, in the act, the ordinary act, of discharging a
servant, another feature in the same mystery is
presented to us, in chapter xxi. The wisdom of God
delights in these scenes and materials; they rebuke
the erring thought of man's heart, that important
things must be done or said by imposing methods--that
the prophet must come forth and strike his hand
over the place. 2 Kings v. 11. But it is with rude
and inartificial instruments that both the wisdom of
God and the power of God are commonly seen. Rams'
horns blew down Jericho, and fishermen turned the
world upside down, as was said of them. But these
homely methods of God's wisdom aid in carrying the
instruction home, and lodging it deep in the intimacies
and recollections of the heart. I may therefore still
say that Noah's ship had no pump in it. Indeed it
could not. Such a thing would have witnessed against
it. God's provisions would have declared their own
insufficiency. That could never have been. God's
provisions and God's works always tell *whose* they are
by being *what* they are. Simplicity, and yet sufficiency,
give them their character. "Let there be light, and
there was light." "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved;" and the sinner, believing,
rejoiced in God with all his house.

So, in like simplicity, in these earlier days. The
heart of Noah was not soiled by a suspicion. He
rested in the sea-worthiness of his vessel, because of
God's appointment and approval of it--nay, I may
say, because of God's building of it. Faith keeping
his heart quiet and assured as to the judgment, hope
fills it as to the coming glory.

Such is the beautiful way of this "prisoner of hope."
*A prisoner of hope* is one of the Spirit's titles, I may
say, for all the saints of God. Jeremiah was such
an one in his day. Jeremiah was shut up in "the
court of the prison, which was in the king of Judah's
house," and this, too, for Christ's sake. He was God's
prisoner, and such an one is always hope's prisoner.
Jeremiah is told to purchase Hananiah's field, and
that was food for hope, like the olive-leaf in the
mouth of the dove. It told the prophet of good days
to come, though at that moment he was in a prison,
the Chaldean army at the city gates, and all the
land deserted. The waters were again all around and
abroad; but the ark of the prophet, like that of the
patriarch, had a window in it.

So was Israel a prisoner of hope in the night of the
passover. With shoe on foot, staff in hand, and girded
loins, Israel waited in the very midst of the judgments
of the Lord; but, like our patriarch, they waited there
only to pass out to the inheritance of the Lord. And
having the pre-eminence in all things, Jesus again
and again shows us the perfect way of a prisoner of
hope, looking for a resurrection portion. As when He
entered Jerusalem, in John xii., the Jewish multitudes
and the Gentile strangers being drawn thither to
inquire after Him, and all the dignities and joys of
the Son of David seeming to wait on Him, His heart
waits on the resurrection hope still, "the joy set before
him," and forth from that attitude of soul, or place
of expectation, He speaks of the corn of wheat falling
into the ground and dying. Steadily and desirously
did His eye rest on the glory which lay, not *in* that
hour, but *beyond* it. In a spirit of entire consecration
and sacrifice, He surrenders *that* hour (bright to Him
in the world as it was, and big with the promise of all
its kingdoms and the glory thereof) to the Father: and
the voice from heaven then visits this perfect, blessed
"prisoner of hope," with assurances that, in due
season, even resurrection times, His name and victory
and honour should all be provided for and secured.

Matchless Jesus!--This voice from heaven was again
the food of hope's prisoner. And what was the transfiguration
on the holy hill but the same? Jesus had
been speaking to the disciples of His death, and
encouraging them (as He would us, beloved) not to
love their lives in this world, when, soon after, six
or eight days, as we read, the holy hill shines suddenly
with the light of resurrection or millennial regions.
And what was all that visitation of glory, but the
grapes of Eshcol brought from Canaan to the camp of
God in the desert; or as the return of the dove to
Noah, with the olive-leaf in her mouth?

.. vspace:: 2

The time, however, for "rendering double" to this
"prisoner of hope" (Zech. ix. 12), comes in due course.
"And God spake unto Noah, saying, Go forth of the
ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy sons'
wives with thee! bring forth with thee every living
thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl and of
cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon
the earth." And Noah went forth. He landed on
the renewed earth, where, at that mystic moment,
all was, in a great sense, according to God's mind
again; no longer corrupt, as when he had last trod
it in its old estate, but clean, under the refining of the
judgment.

Not a thing had gone into the ark thirteen months
before, which did not now come forth. The small and
the great had been in it, and the small were as safe as
the great; the creeping thing of the ditch or the hedge,
as free of all danger or harm as Noah himself. Precious
mystery! We may be little, and we are little, as
the heart knows full well; but heaven, or the coming
system of glory, has fitted itself like the ark, for the
receiving of the small as well as the great. "A voice
came out of the throne, saying, Praise our God, all
ye His servants, and ye that fear Him, both small
and great." We may be calm, though we know ourselves
to be "small" in every way, even as the creeping
thing that went in with Noah--for such a little one
was equally in the covenant, or "the family settlement,"
which made each and all, in their way and measure,
inheritors of the new world. The Father's house on
high has surely made its reckoning according to these
differences of "small and great." As in ancient days
of typical glory, all the congregation of Israel, the
distant ones of Dan and Naphtali, as well as the
princes of Judah, joined in the shout of triumph
when the fire came down, and in mystery, the kingdom
was entered. Lev. ix. Clement and others were not
Paul in the measure of their labours, or in the energy
of the Spirit; but they were Paul as having their
names, alike with his, in the book of life. Phil. iv. 3.
The Father has built His house in the heavens, on
the very plan of its receiving the saints as well as
Jesus Himself. It was part of the original design.
Ere foundations were laid, that plan and purpose were
laid. In counsels of everlasting love it was provided
that the house should be a large one, a many-roomed
or mansioned house, that all the children might be
there.

What say we, beloved? Do our thoughts of it and
glances at it do justice to this love of God? As well
might you say, your prospect from the highest of the
hills could do justice to God's creation. Could your
glance then measure the ten thousandth part of the
earth? The length, the depth, the breadth, the height--the
love of Christ which passeth knowledge!

.. vspace:: 2

"And Noah builded an altar unto the Lord; and
took of every clean beast, and every clean fowl, and
offered burnt offerings on the altar. And the Lord
smelled a sweet savour: and the Lord said in His heart,
I will not again curse the ground any more for man's
sake; for the imagination of man's heart is evil
from his youth: neither will I again smite any more
every thing living, as I have done. While the earth
remaineth, seed time and harvest, and cold and heat,
and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not
cease." The cleansing of the waters of judgment had
made no change in the imaginations of the thoughts
of man's heart. They were still evil, and that only.
The heart was uncured, for "that which is born of
the flesh is flesh," though there be water to cleanse or
fire to refine. It was no change there which gave the
Lord thoughts of peace and not of evil towards men.

"Faith eyes the blood of Christ, and not victory
over corruptions," as one has said, even where there is
such victory. But here, *in spite of corruptions*, that
blood awakens thoughts of peace and not of evil, to
give the sinner an expected end. Christ was under
the eye of God, and that was enough; as in the day
of atonement. The blood of sprinkling is then seen
everywhere. That was the great secret, the great
principle, of that mystic day in Israel. The blood of
the lamb (Lev. xvi.) went into the presence of God,
attended by a cloud of incense; so that Aaron himself
was hid, and there was no man in the tabernacle of
the congregation, as the holy service of putting the
blood on every thing proceeded. Christ in mystery
was seen, and nothing else--and the fruit of that was
the bearing away of sins into the wilderness, a land not
inhabited, a place of forgetfulness, where there was
no voice to accuse, to judge, or to condemn, where
nothing *could* be heard but the voice of that blood
which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel.

That blood, now under the eye of the Lord God,
had moved His heart. Do I speak as a man? No,
the word is, "The Lord said in His heart, I will not
again curse the ground." As the Saviour Himself
says (in spirit bound for the altar), "Therefore doth
my Father *love* me, because I lay down my life."
The heart of the Lord God has sealed the acceptance
of the sacrifice. It did so here, in the times of Noah.

This word that broke from the heart of the Lord
God in Noah's day, the passage of the burning lamp in
Abraham's day (Gen. xv.), and the answer of God
to Solomon (2 Chron. i.), all witness to the value of
the cross of Christ with God established. The rending
of the veil from top to bottom, the breaking of the
rocks, and the bursting of the graves, witness the
same, when the true offering was once and for ever
accomplished. In rich variety of form and character
is the acceptance of the work done in "the place
that is called Calvary" testified and published--in 
every tongue and language, as it were, in Hebrew,
and Greek, and Latin.

And Noah becomes at once the object of fresh and
multiplied blessings, blessings in glory and inheritance
now, as already he had blessings in election, an acceptance
of grace and the righteousness which is by faith.
"God blessed Noah and his sons, and said unto them,
Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth. And
the fear of you, and the dread of you, shall be upon
every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the
air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon
all the fishes of the sea: into your hand they are
delivered."

Noah was blessed in the new world. That blessing
conveyed to him property and dominion in the earth,
and the use or enjoyment of the creatures good for
food. "Every moving thing that liveth" was given
to him, that it might be meat for him.

Here was a large grant, as wide as the scene which
lay around him. He was monarch of all he surveyed,
lord, like Adam in the garden, of the new world. Instructed,
however, as well as honoured and enriched--taught
that the *blood* of the animal was not to be
eaten with its *flesh*: "the flesh with the blood thereof,
which is the life thereof, thou shalt not eat"--a
principle which involves all the thoughts and counsels
of God in His way with sinners--as suited a prohibition,
or limitation to the grant made to Noah now,
as had been the prohibition of the tree in the midst
of the garden, to the grant of all things else made to
Adam.

The blood was the life, and man was not to eat it.
It would have been a bold re-assuming of that which
through sin he had lost, a challenge to regain life by
forcing the passage kept by the sword of the cherubim.
For this ordinance told the sinner, that having lost his
title to the tree of life, he can never return to it in his
own strength. The life has reverted to God. Blood
is His. And the gospel comes to tell us how He has
used it, even providing with it and through it new,
eternal, infallible life for the dead sinner.

The way of God in the gospel was, therefore, rehearsed
to Noah in this ordinance: "The flesh with
the blood thereof, which is the life thereof, thou shalt
not eat." His altar had already told us that he stood
with Adam in the faith of the woman's Seed, and that
that mystery was the principle of his religion and his
worship. But here, while making over every thing to
him for property, dominion, and use, the Lord will not
pass by this great exception out of the grant; conveying,
as it does, the great secret or principle of His
gospel. In the changed circumstances of Adam and
Noah, in the difference between an upright creature
and a ruined sinner, this exception was as fitting and
necessary, as I have said, as that of the tree of knowledge
out of the grant of all with which the Lord, the
Creator, had of old, furnished and filled the scene.

We take life from Christ who has made atonement
by His blood. But we deeply own we can get it
nowhere else. *We do not look for it elsewhere, but
we refuse it not from Him.* We know we were dead in
trespasses and sins, but we know that we have life in
Him, though only in Him. Adam learnt these things
in the promise of the woman's Seed, and in the sword
of the cherubim; Noah learnt them or witnessed them
in his altar and in this ordinance; these things the
whole book of God declares; and eternity will celebrate
them.

Further, however, still--for in this blessing we find
Noah with the sword of justice in his hand. His
fellow-man was to be both protected and avenged.
Man's person was sacred; and his life or blood, if shed
by either man or beast, would be required. "And
surely your blood of your lives will I require; at the
hand of every beast will I require it, and at the hand
of man; at the hand of every man's brother, will I
require the life of man. Whoso sheddeth man's blood,
by man shall his blood be shed." [#]_


.. [#] It has been justly said by another, that the principle of *government*
   was represented in Noah; that Adam had been the representative
   head of *creation*, and that Noah is the same now of *government*.
   And I doubt not, that after the judicial scattering from Babel, the
   nations became associations in which God still recognized the sword
   of justice and the seat of government, which therefore are still to be
   exercised, and ought still to be religiously owned and reverenced.


Who does not instinctively approve of this? All
that we feel judges the fitness of thus treating the
person of man as sacred. While every other moving
thing that lived was submitted to the use of man,
his fellow-man was to be sacred in his eyes.

We instinctively approve this. But this scripture
accounts for this instinct. The reason lies here--"in
the image of God made He man." There is a dignity
in man that is entirely his own. He is the natural
head of creation. Man is the possessor and governor,
and not part of the conveyed inheritance, or of the
delegated dominion. He is the object and not the
subject of the divine grant. The instinctive verdict of
our own hearts is thus divinely accounted for.

After this, however, a great subject opens before us.
"With thee will I establish my covenant" had been
God's word to Noah, before the ark was made, or
the waters had come. vi. 18. Now that the judgment
is past, and the new earth is inherited, that covenant
is fully detailed, as well as pledged again to God's
elect. ix. 8-17. And it is here that the word
"covenant" is first used. The covenants of which
we read in Scripture are all specific, having their
parties and their objects well defined and plainly
declared. There is no mistaking of them. Whether it
be this covenant of the earth with Noah, the covenant
with Abraham and his seed, the covenant of priesthood
with Phinehas, or that of the throne with David, all is
defined--the parties are declared and the objects set
forth. Nor do these, nor any of them, I surely judge,
contemplate the peculiar calling of the Church. Spiritual
calling in heavenly places, and the results of oneness
with Christ, are neither described nor conveyed by
them. But the Scriptures of the New Testament
abundantly declare a *purpose*, or a counsel, of God
according to the good pleasure of His will; a mystery
hid in God, before the foundation of the world, in
which the Church is directly interested. See Romans
xvi. 25; 1 Cor. ii. 7; Eph. i. 9; iii. 8-11; Col. i. 26;
1 Tim. ii. 9.

The inquiry may arise, Does this purpose or counsel
take the form of a covenant? Let us call it covenant,
or simply a purpose taken of God; still the great and
holy and august transaction itself is richly found in
the New Testament. But has it, we may still ask, the
character of a covenant?

I would not be careful to say that it is ever called
so; but I believe we may say, that many things of a
covenant nature are intimated as attaching to it.
Promises are made, consideration or price contemplated,
arrangements formed and fixed, and all this as
between distinct parties. "In the volume of the book
it is written of Me"--"I was set up from everlasting"--and
such words of deepest and holiest import have
their place in settling these thoughts that arise. And
not only were our election, and appointment to our
peculiar glory, as in predestination, matters before the
world (Rom. viii. 28, 29; Eph. i. 4, 5; 1 Peter i. 2), but
we were then formally or virtually given by the Father
to Christ. John vi. 37, 39; x. 29; xvii. 1, 6, 8, 9, 11.

And eternal life is declared to have been promised
before the world was--language which intimates Christ
as a party to a blessed transaction then, and one that
has covenant character in it. Titus i. 2.

I do not, then, say that this transaction is called a
covenant, as God's dealing with Noah is, and His
dealing with Abraham, with David, and with Phinehas;
but it has these qualities, or this form of a covenant;
the presence of distinct parties, considerations and
purposes all settled, and the whole confirmed and
acted on. And how does the spirit of a saint welcome
the blessed truth of this great eternal transaction, engaging
all the Godhead in the behalf of our souls!--as
we read, among other passages, "elect according to the
foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification
of the Spirit unto obedience and sprinkling of the
blood of Jesus Christ." [#]_


.. [#] As intimating blessed and distinct actions among the Persons of
   the Godhead, according to covenant arrangements, we may remember
   Messiah's words in Isa. xlviii.--"And now hath the Lord God and
   His Spirit sent me." What words! how full of deep, counselled, and
   ordered grace towards sinners! And they are quite according to the
   structure of things in the Gospels--for there not only does the baptism
   of Jesus but many passages tell us or show us, according to this word
   of the prophet, that the mission and ministry of the Lord Jesus were
   under the ordaining of God and the anointing of the Holy Ghost;--the
   Lord God and His Spirit sent the Son, the Christ or Messiah.


But what strong foundations are these! what wondrous
discoveries of grace! God Himself, Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, in counsel and in action for
us! In the Gospel, man is in the place of *vision and
audience only*. It is *God* that is active. The activities
and sacrifices are *God's*, and the sinner has but to hear
and live, to look and be saved. But these doings of
God in the gospel of His grace, are the fruit (as we
thus see) of precious and wondrous counsels, taken in
Himself ere worlds were framed. And what, I ask,
can surpass this? Can title or stability for a sinner,
such as may allay all motion and uneasiness of conscience,
be conceived beyond what he gets in this?
Doings for him by God, and sacrifices made for him,
and all this according to counsels ere worlds began!
A sinner made happy (may I use this word?) at God's
expense!

It is covenant or counselled service that Jesus has
rendered us. A promise is made to Noah, that the
waters shall not again prevail to destroy the earth,
but this promise rests on the strong foundation of the
blood of a covenant. Noah's altar had already sent
up a sweet savour, a savour of rest, to God, and in the
satisfaction and delight of that the Lord had said, I
will not again curse the ground for man's sake. That
blood was the foundation of the promise. Just as
with Abraham afterwards. The land is promised to
him, but it is by the covenant of Him who passes
through the pieces of the sacrifice. No *promised*
blessing that is not a *purchased* blessing also--no
throne of grace, as we have said before, that does not
stay itself on the ark of the covenant. Gen. xv. 17.

But the covenant comes with its seal, as well as
with its blood. As here. There is *the bow which witnesses
it* as well as *the blood which sustains it*. Wondrous
thoughts keep themselves before the soul in all this!
The foundation and the witness, the blood and the
token, the consideration and the attestation of the
great act and deed of God come to mind here. The
like figure whereunto even circumcision afterwards;
for as the bow in the cloud, so circumcision in the
flesh, is a sign of covenant engagements.

All such signs, however, beautiful and sure as they
may be, are lost when we think of the great original.
For it is the Holy Ghost Himself that is now given
as the great sign, the seal of our adoption, the earnest
of our inheritance, the witness of the accomplished
work of Jesus, and of the acceptance of it in all its
sufficiency and preciousness.

What thoughts are these! The promise of God
sustained by the blood of the Son, and witnessed by
the presence of the Spirit! How has God imparted
Himself to us in this marvellous act and deed for
sinners! The soul can conceive nothing richer. In
divine activities we are interested, but such activities
as are founded on everlasting counsels, and which
make manifest to us and for us the name of God,
"Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

How should it take us out of ourselves, to stand in
sight of this! What a mystery it is; and what have
we to do, but with Moses to "turn aside and see this
great sight," turn aside from all else! The grander
"this great sight" presents itself to our eye, the more
commanding will it be. Let us get rich thoughts of
this mystery. "The secret of the Lord is with them
that fear Him, and He will shew them His covenant."
Let us see this great transaction settled ere worlds
began, see it calling forth all the energies of divine
love and power in Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, see it
undertaking the most deep and marvellous purposes of
grace and glory for the elect, keep the eye on it, like
Moses, till, like him, we discover Him who dwells in
the midst of it, and whose name explains it all.

   |
   |  "Oh, all ye rich, ye wise, ye just,
   |  Who the blood's doctrine have discussed
   |      And judge it mean and slight--
   |  Grant that I may, the rest's your own,
   |  In shame and poverty sit down
   |      At this one well-spring of delight!"
   |

If it be but a man's covenant, there is both the
consideration and the deed, the purchase money and
the muniments, the price and the witness of its payment.
God treats with our souls in language thus
well understood, and tells us thus of the *consideration*
and the *deed*, or that which *sustains* and that which
*witnesses* the counsels of His sovereign good pleasure.
It is a deed of gift to the elect, but it is nothing less
than the blood of the Son which sustains it, and the
presence of the Spirit which witnesses it.

What a secret! By nature I am at a great distance
from God, an alien and a foreigner. I am also shut
up, so that I cannot come forth. But in this great
transaction God Himself undertook to travel this unmeasured
distance, and assail the house of my strong
enemy; and in His incarnation, sorrows, and victory
all this mighty doing of love is accomplished, and I
am "compassed about with songs of deliverance."

Can it be, as I gaze at such a mystery, that I fear
lest the distant one be not brought nigh, or the captive
one be not delivered? "Surely in the floods of great
waters they shall not come nigh unto me." I may
say--"*Thou* art my hiding-place; thou shalt preserve
me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with
songs of deliverance."

   |
   |        "Strong Deliverer!
   |  Be Thou still our strength and shield!"
   |

This may well be our confidence in the faith of
such truth. But to these general thoughts on the
covenants and their signs, I might add, the token
given to Noah has a beautiful significancy. The bow,
as it were, rode triumphant on the cloud. It rolled
away the stone and sat upon it. Its form and bearing
were those of a conqueror. It said to the cloud, "Hitherto
shalt thou come and no further, and here shall thy
proud waves be stayed." It gave the angel of death
his measure, and said to him, "It is enough, stay now
thine hand."

And all this lives in the divine remembrance. The
earth and the covenant that secures it are there.
"The bow shall be in the cloud, and I will look upon
it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant
between God and every living creature of all flesh
that is upon the earth." Accordingly this promise
to the earth is remembered, the bow in the cloud is
looked at, through every stage and variety of the
dispensational actings of the Lord.

It was remembered, of course, all the time the Lord
had His seat in Zion, for then the glory made *the
earth* its residence. The Lord then dwelt between
the cherubim, in the temple at Jerusalem, in the
land of Israel. But when the throne of the Lord
leaves that city, and the sanctuary loses the glory,
because abominations had grieved and disturbed it,
the throne and the glory are accompanied by the
rainbow to heaven. Ezek. i. 28. Though the earth
then ceased, for a while, to be the dwelling-place
of God, still it was before Him in counsel. He would
be mindful of it, as the object of His faithful care,
according to the promise. [#]_


.. [#] Just like the throne of David. That throne is for the present
   in the dust--the crown of Judah is cast down--but the promise of
   the Lord to it is remembered, as is His promise to the earth. This
   analogy Scripture giveth us in Jer. xxxiii. Dishonoured now or made
   the sport of the wicked, the promises to the earth and to David's
   throne are still in full remembrance, and, in their season, will be
   accomplished.


And therefore when heaven is opened to our view,
we see the faithful and remembered bow encompassing
the throne. Rev. iv. And further still. The rainbow
is seen when the Lord is presented as coming down for
the direct, immediate execution of judgment. The
mighty angel, the divine executor of the day of the
Lord, comes down to the earth clothed with a cloud, the
symbol of judgment, and the fearful vessel of wrath.
Gen. ix. 14; Rev. i. 7. But even then the rainbow is
with Him (Rev. x.); as much as to tell us, that to the
end, and at the end, God remembers His promise to the
earth, and will debate with judgment. The cloud is to
descend, it is true--"They shall see the Son of man
coming in the clouds of heaven." The judgment must
sit--the books must be opened--the vials must be
emptied; but it is only to take out of the kingdom them
that offend--to destroy them that destroy the earth.
The cloud, as it executes its commission, must stay itself
at the beginning of the bow. The *day* of the Lord,
or the judgment, must give place to the *presence* of
the Lord, or the refreshment and restoration. Time
shall be no longer, the mighty angel may cry; the
present course of things may cease again, as once it
did in the days of Noah; but the bow shines, in the
eye of the Lord, as brightly as ever, and His promise
lives in His heart. The earth is still beloved, for
Noah's sake, as Israel is for the fathers' sake--that
true Noah, in whom (but in whom alone) all the promises
of God are yea and amen; and of whom it shall
be said, in all its fulness and truth, "This same shall
comfort us concerning our work and toil of our hands,
because of the ground which the Lord hath cursed."

This earth of ours, given to the children of men,
therefore outlives the judgment. It stands the shock
of the descent of the mighty angel, though clothed
with a cloud, planting his right foot on the sea, and
his left on the earth, and crying aloud, as when a
lion roareth. Rev. x.

And what is it reserved for? For more than the
bow had promised it. It is not only preserved--with
its seed time and harvest, its summer and winter, its
day and night, its cold and heat--but it is to be delivered
into "the liberty of the glory of the children
of God." This is more than had been promised.

Such was the token, and such will be its acknowledgment--such
was the pledge, and such will be its
redemption. Beautiful mystery! The covenant, with
its blood and its sign! God's promise, with the
sacrifice of the Son as its foundation, and the presence
of the Spirit as its witness!

But here this thought occurs to me: Are we, beloved,
to stand before such ways and revelations of
God in the same calmness in which they are delivered
to us? Is that the thing that becomes us? The
Queen of Sheba did not stand before the glories of
Solomon in the same way that Solomon himself dwelt
among them. Solomon was at home in the midst of
them. They were all his own. It was *his* wisdom,
and *his* house that he had built. The meat of the table,
and the sitting of the servants, with their apparel,
were all *his*. The ascent by which he went into the
house of God was his. But the Queen of Sheba, from
the distant south, was but introduced to it all. Fitting
it was that he should be at ease there; and fitting it
was that she should be all rapture. So with the book
of God and the disciple. All the profound and precious
mysteries which the Spirit is unfolding there are His
own--the thoughts and counsels of the divine mind.
There is no effort to produce effect in the communication
of them; the tale of the wonders of grace and
glory is told artlessly. But is the soul, introduced to
them, to be, in like manner, unmoved? Such an one
may rather gaze with more of rapture than she who
came from the uttermost parts of the earth, for "a
greater than Solomon is here."

And it is more of this Sheba-rapture we want. We
too easily afford to talk of God's things as though
there were no more preciousness and excellency in
them than our hearts could measure; but as secret
after secret comes forth from the wisdom of the greater
than Solomon, surely our souls should say, "Happy are
thy men, and happy are these thy servants, which stand
continually before thee, and hear thy wisdom."

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Endowed and blessed, enriched and honoured--instructed
too, and ordained as "the power" under God,
and with all this, at ease, in conscious safety, "no evil
or enemy occurrent," Noah is seated in the new world.
A new trial of man, under new circumstances, was
proceeding; and, as with Adam in Eden, nothing is
left undone on God's part. The oxen and fatlings were
killed, and all things were ready. But where is man's
sufficiency? If Adam failed before him, and lost the
garden; if Israel failed after him, and lost their land of
milk and honey; it may be said to Noah, "Lovest thou
me more than these?" In Christ, and in Him only,
are unfailing fidelity and strength. And Noah, like the
rest, fails, and the virgin soil of the new world is
quickly tarnished by the very first foot that trod it.

"And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he
planted a vineyard, and drank of the vine, and was
drunken, and he was uncovered within the tent."

Noah himself is put to shame; the very first man,
the Adam of this new system, begins the history of
this second apostasy, like his first father.

The "little fire" is thus kindled; but it is for "a
greater matter." Noah is put to shame; but Ham, his
son, glories in the shame. That was a terrible advance
in the progress of evil. "Ham, the father of Canaan,
saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two
brethren without."

It was a terrible advance in evil; this was not
simply the being "overtaken in a fault," but "rejoicing
in iniquity." The common moral sense rejects 
this--"Shem and Japheth took a garment, laid it on their
shoulders, went backwards, and covered the nakedness
of their father." And the saint himself is soon restored.
Noah awakens from his wine. He that was overtaken
recovers himself, through the Spirit, and the grace of
God gives him a great triumph--a very precious and
glorious triumph indeed, for the restored one judges his
judge, and condemns his accuser--"Cursed be Canaan,
a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren."
This is something more than recovery--it is triumphant
recovery. Even the apostle's fine word, "Who shall
lay anything to the charge of God's elect?" scarcely
measures it; for that is only the silencing of the
accuser, while this is turning back on the pursuer.
"Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall,
I shall rise.... Then she that is mine enemy shall be
trodden down as the mire of the streets."

Here, however, we may stand for a moment--the
rich and interesting prospects of the Spirit of prophecy
here spread themselves out before us.

This curse upon Canaan is part of Noah's prophecy.
Noah, in spirit, looked out from the renewed earth, but
anticipated the return of corruption and violence,
though the grace of God were to have its witness in
the midst of it. In detail, he saw that one branch of
the human family (now about to re-people the earth)
was to be distinguished by the revelation and presence
of God among them; another by their success and
advancement in the world--a people to be enlarged
and made honourable in the earth; another, by the
constant, unchanging token, in their flesh, of degradation
and servitude. His prophecy contemplated, as we may
say, the Asiatic, the European, and the African man;
or, the Hebrew in the East, with whom was to be
the sanctuary of God--the Gentile of the West, who
was, under the hand or providence of God, to make
himself great in borders beyond his own--and the
slave of the South, who might know a change of
masters, but who was to be a slave still.

Short is the notice of the world's history, but just
and perfect as far as it goes, and enough to answer
the purpose of the Spirit in Noah, who was taking his
son Ham for his text.

The three prophecies, which we get in these earliest
times, that of Enoch, that of Lamech, and this of
Noah, all touching the earth and its history, though
respecting different stages or parts of that history,
together present a very perfect outline of the whole
thing. We must take them in this order--Noah's,
Enoch's, Lamech's.

Noah's prophecy has been accomplishing from of old,
and is still getting its seal and witness in all the changes
of the world's solemn and interesting story. Enoch's
(Jude 14), which spoke of judgment, will have its answer,
its full answer, when the present course of things is
closing, and the day of the Lord comes to convince the
ungodly. Lamech's (Genesis v. 29), which spoke of rest,
will be made good afterwards, when, "the day of the
Lord" having fulfilled the judgment, "the presence of
the Lord" will bring its restitution and refreshing.

The present and the future of the world's history,
the varied good and evil of the present, and the judgment
and the glory that are to share the future, are
thus sketched before us in these prophecies. It is easy
to discern these things, and to give these early patriarchal
oracles their order and character.

It is Noah's, however, that I must look at more
particularly, as what we have more properly to do
with here. It was delivered on the discovery of the
evil of his son Ham, and the onward course of evil is
then detailed to its close and maturity, ere we leave
these chapters.

We have already watched the infant springing of it
in Noah himself, and the advanced form of it in Ham.
Its further growth is next to be seen in the builders of
Babel, some hundred years after the flood. And an
awful exhibition it is.

At the birth-time of this new world, Noah's altar
was raised, witnessing faith and worship--but now the
city and the tower are reared, witnessing defiance of
God and the affected independency of man. And the
answer of heaven to these things is just as different.
Noah's altar brought down words and tokens of peace
and security--the cry of the city and the tower now
bring down judgment. Corruption here, and vengeance
from on high, mark the scene, instead of worship
here, and blessing from God. Then it was, that
the Lord hung the bright token of His covenant in
the heavens, but now He is sending abroad over the
earth the witnesses of His righteous anger.

But this is not all. The tower is over-topped, high
and proud as it was. The builders may be scattered,
but their principles survive. Judgment does not cure.
All the apostate mind that quickened that proud and
rebellious confederacy, gathers itself rapidly for its
perfect work and display in one man. For soon after
the scattering (it may be about thirty years) Nimrod,
a grandson of Ham, plants his standard on the very
spot which had witnessed the judgment of God.
The beginning of his kingdom was Babel. x. 10.
He unfurls his banner in the very face of Him "to
whom vengeance belongs," and cries, "Where is the
God of judgment?" He was as the fool of Ps. xiv.--"The
fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."
He begins to be a mighty one in the earth. "Before
the Lord he hunted." In defiance of God he sought
conquest and power. He added house to house and
field to field, in the desire to be lord alone. Erech
and Accad and Calneh are mother-cities, and mighty
Nineveh with Rehoboth and Calah, and that great city
Resen, are but colonies in the system of this vaunting
apostate. He had no heart for any portion which God
could give him. He undertook to provide for himself,
to be the maker of his own fortune, that his dignity
and honour should proceed from himself. And such
an one is the man of the world to this day. His
intellect or his industry, his skill or his courage,
makes him what he is, and provides him what he
cares for. Such was this distinguished apostate, this
earliest representative and type of that one who, in
closing days, is to do according to his will, and fill
the measure of man's iniquity.

It is a serious sight for the watching and observance
of our souls. Are we, beloved, waiting for other and
purer scenes? and are our hearts upon such enjoyments
as God can sanction, and Jesus share with us?

These chapters properly close with this--these scenes
of evil and proud rebellion pass from before us, with
a faint and distant view of the call of another heavenly
stranger apart from the world. But all that is the
dawn of another era in the ways of God, and our
present subject only looks at it in the distance.

The second part of the book of Genesis, I may say,
ends here. It presents a complete, distinct action,
suitably following what had preceded it, and as suitably
(were it my purpose to show it) introducing what
is to follow it.

In this portion, Gen. vi.-xi., the scene is laid in the
earth. The heavenly family have already been before
us, Gen. i.-v., and their course ended in the translation
of Enoch; now the scene is laid in the earth again, as
at the beginning in the garden of Eden.

The contents of this little volume, which I have now
closed, might be given in the following order:

vi.-viii. These chapters present the sin and judgment
of the earth, with the election, faith, and
deliverance of the saints in the midst of it all, and
out of it all.

ix. This chapter shows us the new condition of man
in the new world, endowed and enriched there by the
God of heaven and earth, secured in the covenant
mercy, and made the representative and executor of
divine authority.

x. xi. These chapters unfold great portions of the
history of the new world, the springs, workings, progress,
and maturity of evil, leaving or rendering the
earth such a place as that the Lord must again, a
second time, retire from it (at least for the present)
and bring out from it, also a second time, a people
to be heavenly strangers in the midst of it, like the
antediluvian saints.

Heaven and earth have thus, in their season, been
rehearsing the mystery, till together, in coming days,
the days of the glory, they shall display it, when
"at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, of
things in heaven, and things in earth, and things
under the earth; and every tongue confess that Jesus
Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

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"The land shall not be sold for ever," says the Lord;
"for the land is mine." Lev. xxv. 23. Man has a term
of years granted him, in which it is left in his power to
disturb the divine order. For forty-nine years in Israel
disturbing traffic might go on, but in the fiftieth year the
Lord asserted His right, and restored all things according
to His own mind; for it was a time of "refreshing"
and of "restitution" as from His own "presence."

Bright and happy expectation! "The earth is the
Lord's, and the fulness thereof," is the proclamation
of Psalm xxiv. And then the challenge goes forth,
"Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord?"--that
is, Who shall take the government of this earth and
its fulness? And the answer is made by another challenge
to the city gates, to lift up their heads to the
Lord of hosts, the King of glory; a fervent form of
words whereby to convey the truth, that the Lord,
as in strength and victory, the Lord as Redeemer and
Avenger, should take the government. As again in
Rev. v. a like proclamation is heard, "Who is worthy
to open the book, and to loose the seals thereof?" And
the answer from every region is this, "The Lamb that
was slain, the Lion of the tribe of Judah." He who
sat on the throne gave that answer by letting the Book
pass from His hand into the hand of the Lamb. The
living creatures and crowned elders joined in that
answer by singing their song over the prospect of their
reign over the earth. The hosts of angels add to it, by
ascribing all wisdom and strength and honour and
faculty of dominion unto the Lamb--and every creature
in heaven, on earth, under the earth and in the seas,
in their order and measure, join in uttering this same
answer. The title of the Lamb to take dominion in
the earth is thus owned and verified in the very place
where alone all lordship or office could be rightly
attested--the presence of the throne in heaven.

And so it is. The nobleman has now gone into the
distant country to get for himself a kingdom. Jesus,
who refused all power from the god of this world
(Matt. iv.), or from the desire of the multitude (John vi.),
takes it from God, as He owns in Psalm lxii. that to
Him it belongs. And in due season He will return,
and those who have owned Him in the day of His
rejection shall shine with Him in the day of His
glory; those who have served Him now shall take
another city with Him then.

In the prospect of such a day, Paul says to Timothy,
"Keep this commandment without spot, unrebukeable,
until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ: which
in His time He shall show, who is the blessed and only
potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords."
And in the like prospect the same dear apostle could
say of himself, "I have fought a good fight, I have
finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which
the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that
day; and not to me only, but unto all them also that
love His appearing."

May the Lord give our poor hearts--for they need
it much--more of the like spirit of faith and power
of hope! Amen.

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.. class:: center large

   _`ABRAHAM`.

.. class:: center medium

   GENESIS XII.-XXV.

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In earlier parts of the book of Genesis, I have already
traced two distinct histories--that of the antediluvian
saints, or the times from Adam to Enoch; and that
of Noah and of those who followed him, down to the
scattering of the nations.

The first of these histories occupies chapters i.-v.,
the second, vi.-xi.

In the chapter which follows--xii.--the story of
Abraham begins, and is continued down to chap. xxv.
This forms the third portion or section of the book
of Genesis, and presents to us a new era in the ways
of God. And in all this, I am sure, there is beautiful
moral order, and an unfolding of the dispensational
wisdom of God. For in these things the heavens and
the earth are made, by turns, to take up the wondrous
tale of that wisdom, and to rehearse divine mysteries--such
mysteries as, "in the fulness of time," will
be accomplished, when, as we know, He shall gather
together in one all things in Christ, both which are
in heaven and which are on earth. Eph. i. 10.

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Adam in innocency was a man of the earth. He
had to enjoy it, knowing it all as his, but knowing
nothing as his beside. But when he was sent out of
Eden, he became a stranger in the earth. He received
no commission to improve or furnish it. He had simply
to till the ground for a living, and the translation
of Enoch tells us, that the destiny and inheritance
of that earliest household of God was *heavenly*. [#]_


.. [#] The family of Cain was the contradiction of this, in those
   antediluvian days. They tilled the ground for something more than
   livelihood. Their tillage led to the culture and advancement of
   the world as a system of gain and pleasure. And thus were the
   two families distinguished--the one was formed by faith, or by
   obedience to the revelation of God; the other by the despite of it, as
   the world is to this day.


In Noah, however, in process of time, the purpose of
God is different. Noah is a man of the earth again.
He leaves the ark in a character very different from
that in which Adam had left the garden. Noah left
the ark under commission to keep the world in order,
as judge and ruler. It was not strangership on it, but
citizenship in it, and government of it, that was now
again the divine thought. But a second apostasy was
witnessed in the midst of Noah's descendants. In
process of time, they affected independency in the
earth, casting off the fear of God, and seeking to do
for themselves without Him, as Adam had (seeking
to be as God) in the garden of old.

Abraham, upon all this, finds grace in the eyes of
the Lord. He is called out from this apostate scene;
and, as we might expect, from this alternate telling of
heavenly and earthly mysteries, after Noah the man of
the earth, Abraham is called to be a heavenly man.

The Lord said to him, "Get thee out of thy country,
and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house."
This was the character of the call of Abraham. It
was not a call from moral pollution, or from idolatry,
or the like; it was a call from the associations of
nature and of the earth. There were idols to be
left, I doubt not. See Joshua xxiv. 2, 3. But it was
not the leaving of them that constituted the nature
of the call. Yet Abraham, touching the earth, was
to be like Adam outside the garden. He leaves Ur
of the Chaldees, as Adam left Eden. He received
no commission to cultivate the land of Canaan for
the Lord, or to conquer and govern the people there.
The arrangements of the world were left just as they
were. Abraham had nothing to say to the nations
through which he passed on his way to Canaan; and
when he reached that land, he found the Canaanite
there, and there he left him as he found him.

Government had been set up in Noah, and nations
had been organized; as natural relationships had been
instituted at the beginning, or in Adam. But Abraham
is called from all this. God Himself is received
by faith; and the things of nature which Adam might
have conveyed to him, or the things of government
which Noah might have secured to him, are left
behind. [#]_


.. [#] In their day, Abraham's seed, or the nation of Israel, are again
   an *earthly* people; and they exhibit the very opposite of all this.
   They *smite* the nations of Canaan; and instead of being called *from*
   kindred and country, they are called *to* all such things; men, women,
   children, and even cattle (for not a hoof was to be left behind),
   journeyed from Egypt to Canaan--from a land of strangers to their
   own inheritance.


In our patriarch, then, we see the election and the
call of God. He was of the corrupt, departed family
of man, without a single claim on God. But
sovereign grace (in the virtue of which all the redeemed,
according to eternal counsel, stand) had made
him its object; and under such grace he is, in due
time, manifested as a chosen one, and is called of
God to be a heavenly stranger in the world. Scripture
speaks of him as the father of all them that
believe. Rom. iv. We may, therefore, expect to find
the life of faith exhibited in him; and so we do find
it, as this little book designs to show.

But in this "life of faith" we do not merely look
for the principle of dependence on God, or of confidence
in Him, though that may be the thought immediately
suggested by such words. It signifies much
more. It is a life of large and various energies; for
according to God, or Scripture, faith is that principle
in the soul which not only trusts Him and believes
Him; it is also that which apprehends His way, acts
in concert with His principles and purposes, receives
His promises, enjoys His favour, does His bidding,
looks for His kingdom, in His strength gains victories,
and by His light walks in light; and thus it is ever,
though variously, exhibiting a life according to Him,
or formed by communion with Him.

All this is strongly marked for our observation.

Heb. xi. shows us all this--the life of faith in its
vast diversity of exercise and action. Accordingly, we
shall find, in the life of Abraham, occasions where confidence
in God was the virtue exercised; occasions,
too, where strength was put forth and conflict endured;
and again, where surrender of rights and submission
to wrongs were the virtues. And the life of faith is
beautiful in its variety; for this variety is but the
changeful glowing of the same mind, the mind of
Christ, in the saint.

But again. We are not to understand that we get
*nothing else* than this light and power of faith in the
believer or saint. Perfectness in this variety of the life
of faith is not to be found save in Him who is set
before us as "the Author and Finisher of faith," and
whose way, from beginning to end, and in every
incident of it, was the great exemplar of this life in
full unsullied brightness. Still, however, the life of
Abraham, or of David, or of Joseph, or of Paul, is to
be called the life of faith; for it was the life of those
in whom that principle was, though betraying again
and again, and that too in different ways, the pravity of
nature, the workings of unbelief, and the counsels of a
heart prone to converse with flesh and blood, and to
take the way of a revolted world.

.. vspace:: 2

This life of faith our Abraham entered upon with
beautiful simplicity and earnestness. "He went forth
to go into the land of Canaan, and into the land of
Canaan he came." He went out, not knowing whither
he went. He took God for his security and his portion;
and, as another has said, "it is in this that the Spirit
of God rests, as characteristic of his approved faith;
for, by separation from the world, on the ground of
implicit confidence in God, he lost everything, and
got nothing but *the word of God*."

We do not like such conditions. The heart resents
them; but the renewed mind approves them, and
justifies God in them. The *sufferings* of Christ are
first, and then the *glories*. 1 Peter i. 11. Job was
nearer his good thing in God, when he lay in ashes
amid the potsherds, than when he was happy in his
nest. Israel did not descend Mount Lebanon, and
enter Canaan after a fruitful journey, through a land of
cities and villages, and corn and wine, and rivers and
vineyards; but they paced it slowly, through one desert
after another. And so Abraham was called out from
all, to go he knew not whither; but this he knew, that it
was God who had called him. And this was faith's
beginning. "He went forth to go into the land of
Canaan, and into the land of Canaan he came."

He came, however, rather to sojourn than to dwell
there. He moves from place to place, and in every
place it is but a tent he pitches. He had been told by
the God of glory, that the land should be *shown* him.
He should *have* it in *his seed* for ever, but in *his own
person* he was but to *see* it. And, accordingly, we find
him *surveying it carefully*, but not *occupying any of it*.
For this was the right answer of such a promise. He
*looked* on the land, because the promise was that it
should be *shown* him. He went first to Sichem and
to the plain of Moreh; from thence, southward, to the
neighbourhood of Bethel and Ai. But he was a man
of the tent, and of the tent only, wherever he went.
The Canaanite was then in the land, and he was the
occupier of the soil; and Abraham did not dispute
with him for a foot's breadth of it. He surveyed it,
and had such possession of it as faith and hope imparted;
but he sought no personal, present inheritance
there. The promise lived in his heart, and the promise
was his measure as well as his joy. Chapter xii.

Quickly, however, another man in our Abraham is
before us; for, like all of us, beloved, he was a man of
*nature*, as he was a man of God; and there is none
perfect in the life of faith, as we said before, but the
Master Himself. Famine touches the land into which
the call of God had brought him. A strange surprise
this may well be thought to have been. But faith
would have been equal to it. Faith in Paul was equal
to a like surprise. Called into Macedonia by the voice
of God, a prison awaited him. But Paul stands the
shock, though Abraham falls before it. Paul and his
companion sing hymns in the prison in Macedonia; but
Abraham practises a lie, seeking help from the famine
of Canaan in another land, of which his call under
the God of glory had made no mention whatever.

Such things have been, and still are, found among
the saints. There are "Little Faith" and "Great
Heart" among the elect, as well as flesh and spirit--nature
and the new mind in each of them. But this
we may know: that if nature *rule* us, nature will
*expose* us. Even the man of the earth, Pharaoh of
Egypt, puts Abraham to shame; and his journey,
instead of being onward in the witness of his tent
and in the joy of his altar, was that of a wearied
foot, because it was that of a rebuking heart. He
has to "do his first works," to retrace his steps, and
regain his standing--sorrowful works at all times.
He has to leave "by-path meadow" for the King's
highway again, betaking himself back from Egypt to
the place between Ai and Bethel, where he had raised
his altar at the first.

What say we to this, beloved? The flocks got in
Egypt accompany him home. The glitter of the gold
and the silver--the offerings of a land that lay beyond
where the God of glory had called him--adorn and set
off his return. All this is so indeed. But what say
we to all this? again I ask. Is the bleating and the
lowing of such flocks and herds in our ears like the
soft music of an approving conscience? or this glittering
wealth like the brightness of the divine presence
which was now lost to Abraham? I am bold to answer
for Abraham, though I may not for myself, that his spirit
knew the difference. The wearied heart was but feebly
relieved by all that he brought with him from the land
of Egypt, or out of the house of Pharaoh. Sure I am
of this. It could not but be so with such a man.
"He that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul,"
must have been his experience; and his action in the
scene which immediately succeeds, as I judge, tells us
something of this.

Lot, his younger brother, or his brother's son, who
had come with him out of Ur into Canaan, now becomes
the occasion of trial to Abraham, as the famine
had lately been. But faith in Abraham triumphs, I
may say, to admiration. The very style in which he
gives this trial its answer seems to say, that he will
return fourfold to the life of faith for that which
nature had so lately, as it were, taken away from it.
The herdmen of the two brothers, the elder and the
younger, cannot feed their flocks together. They
must separate. This was the occasion of trial which
had now arisen. But "let Lot choose," is Abraham's
language. In a fine sense, he will act on the divine
oracle, "the elder shall serve the younger." Lot may
choose, and leave Abraham what portion he please.
The well-watered plains may be his; Abraham can
trust the Lord of the country, though he lose them.
He may have to *dig* wells instead of *finding* them;
but it is better to dig for them in the strength of
God, than to find them in the way of covetousness;
better, as it were, to wait for them in Canaan, than
to go after them again down to Egypt. xiii.

This is beautiful recovery. And in this way will
faith, at times, exercise judgment on unbelief, and clear
itself again. And now the Lord visits him, as He had
not, as He could not, have done in Egypt. The God
of glory, who had called Abraham into Canaan, could
not go with him into Egypt: but to the man who was
surrendering the best of the land to his younger brother,
in the joy of restored confidence in God, He will
delight to show Himself.

Where, then, are we, beloved? I will ask. Where
is our spirit? On which road with Abraham are we, as
at this moment, travelling? Are we knowing Egypt
in the bitterness of self-reproach, or a regained Canaan
in the joy of God's countenance? Is it a walk with
God we are taking every day? The life of faith knows
the difference between the checks of the worldly mind
and the enlargements of the believing mind. Abraham
knew these things. He knew, in spirit, what Egypt
was--the place of gold and of silver, and of rebuke
and death; he knew what it was to regain Ai without
an altar on the road; and he knew what it was to rest
again, with altar and tent, in the plains of Mamre.

.. vspace:: 2

Thus the chequered life of faith begins. But there is
vastly more in it than this. And in this variety of
action in the life of faith, we notice its *intelligence*, the
exercise of the mind of Christ, or of the spiritual sense,
which discerns things that differ, which has capacity to
know times and seasons according to God. This fine
endowment of the saint we find in Abraham, in the
next passage of his history.

The battle of the kings is recorded in chap. xiv.
While that was a mere contest between such, Abraham
has nothing to say to it. Let the potsherds strive with
the potsherds. But as soon as he hears that his kinsman
Lot is involved in that struggle, he stirs himself.

Everything, as we read, is beautiful in its season.
There is a time to build, and a time to pull down.
There was a time for Abraham to be still, and a time for
Abraham to be active; a time to be silent, and a time to
break silence. And he understood the time. Like the
men of Issachar afterwards, he knew the time, and what
Israel ought to do. God's principles were Abraham's
rules. Lot was taken prisoner, and the kinsman's part
was now Abraham's duty. The battle-field in the vale
of Siddim shall be his now, as the tent had been
his till now in the plains of Mamre. The mind of
God had another lesson for him than that which he
learnt while the potsherds of the earth were alone in
the conflict; and a time to break silence calls him out
at the head of his trained servants.

Excellent and beautiful indeed in a saint is this
intelligence of the mind of Christ, and beautiful is
everything in its season. Out of season the very same
action is defiled and disfigured. For the *material*
of an action is not enough to determine the *character*
of an action. It must be *seasonable* likewise. Elijah,
from his elevation, may call down fire from heaven on
the captains and their fifties; and so, the two witnesses,
in the day of Rev. xi. But it will not do for
the companions of the lowly, rejected Jesus to act thus
on the Samaritan villagers. Luke ix. It is only in
its season that anything is really right. How was the
garden of Gethsemane (made sacred as it was by the
sorrows of the Lord Jesus) disfigured by the blood
which Peter's sword drew there! What a stain on
that soil, though the power of Christ was present to
remove it! But another sword was doing right service
when it hewed Agag in pieces. For when vengeance is
demanded, when the trumpet of the sanctuary sounds
an alarm for war, vengeance or war will be as perfect
as grace and suffering. It is for God to determine the
dispensational way, and to make known the dispensational
truth. That being done, all life of faith is just
that manner or order or character of life that is
according to it. "The duties and services of faith flow
from truths entrusted. If the truths be neglected, the
duties or services cannot be fulfilled." And the good
pleasure of God, or His revealed and dispensed
wisdom, varies in changing and advancing ages.
Noah, in a few generations before Abraham, would
have avenged the blood of one made in the likeness or
image of God, in the same spirit of faith, as Abraham
allowed one army of confederate kings to slay another.
It is neither the "sword" nor the "garment," as the
Lord speaks in Luke xxii., that must needs be the due
instrument of service, or symbol of faith; but either
of them, according as it severally expresses the dispensational
good pleasure of God at the time.

This is much to be observed; for the distinguishing
of things that differ, and the rightly dividing of the
word of God or of truth, is expected, among other
virtues, in the life of faith. Abraham was endowed
with this fine faculty. He walked in the light of that
day, as God was in the light. He knew the voice of
the silver trumpet; when, as it were, to gather to the
tabernacle, and when to go forth to the battle.

.. vspace:: 2

But there is more than this in our patriarch at this
time. Two victories distinguish him--one over the
armies of the kings, and one over the offers of the
king of Sodom.

The first of these Abraham gained, because he struck
the blow exactly in God's time. He went out to the
battle neither sooner nor later than God would have
had him. He waited, as it were, till "he heard the
going in the mulberry trees." Victory was therefore
sure; for the battle was the Lord's, not his. His
arm was braced by the Lord; and this victory of
Abraham's was that of an earlier sling and stone, or
of the jaw-bone of an ass, or of a Jonathan and his
armour-bearer against a Philistine host; for Abraham's
was but a *band of trained servants against the armies
of four confederated kings*.

The second, still brighter than the first, was achieved
in virtue of fellowship with the very springs of divine
strength. The *spirit* of the patriarch was in victory
here, as his *arm* had been before. He had so drunk
in the communication of the King of Salem--had so
fed on the bread and wine of that royal, priestly
stranger--that the king of Sodom spread out his
feast in vain. The soul of Abraham *had been in
heaven*, and he could not return to the world.

That was his blessed experience in the valley of
Shaveh. Happy soul indeed! Oh for something more
than to trace the image of it in the book! Zaccheus,
in his day, was a son of Abraham in this generation,
or according to this life and power. Zaccheus so drank
in the joy and strength that are to be known in the
presence of Christ, that the world became a dead thing
to him. He had sat at table with the true Melchizedek,
and had eaten of His bread and drunk of His
wine. Jesus had spread a feast for His host at Jericho
as He had in other days for Abraham in the valley of
Shaveh; and, strengthened and refreshed, this son of
Abraham, like his father of old, was able to surrender
the world. Behold, Lord, says he, the half of my
goods I give to the poor, and if I have wronged any
man of anything by false accusation, I restore him
fourfold. He could give Abraham's answer to the
king of Sodom, for he had had Abraham's refreshment
from the King of Salem.

Surely, beloved, this is the way of victory in all the
saints. The springs of strength and joy are found in
Jesus. May you and I be able to look at Him and say,
"All my fresh springs are in thee." "This is the victory
that overcometh the world, even our faith." And
what are all conquests in God's account but such?--

   |
   |                              "'Tis within
   |   The fervent spirit labours. There he gains
   |   Fresh conquests o'er himself, compared with which
   |   The laurels that a Cæsar wears are weeds."
   |

Such, then, are the victories of faith.

But we have more still; and in the next scene, in
chapter xv. we see faith's *boldness*.

And let me ask, for our common comfort, what more
precious with God Himself than this? The intelligence
of faith is bright, and its victories glorious; but
in the accounting of the God of all grace, its boldness
surpasses all.

After Abraham's victory over the world, or over the
offers of the king of Sodom, the Lord comes to him
with some great pledges and promises. After these
things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a
vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and
thy exceeding great reward. xv. 1. After the heat
of the preceding day, it was meet, in the ways of grace,
that Abraham should be owned again, and encouraged
again. But faith is bold, very bold, apparently aiming
higher than the purposes and undertakings of grace.
And this is a wonderful moment to contemplate.
Abraham seems to throw back the words of the Lord.
"I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward,"
says the Lord. "What wilt thou give me?" Abraham
replies--"What wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless,
and the steward of my house is this Eliezer of
Damascus?"

This was bold; but, blessed to say it, not too bold
for the ear of the Lord who finds His richest joy
in the language of faith like this.

Good it is to have a *portion*; but Abraham sought an
*object*, an object for the heart; something far more
important to us. Adam found it so. Eden was not to
him what Eve was. The garden with all its tributes
did not do for him what the helpmeet did. Eve opened
his mouth; she alone did that, because she alone
had filled his heart. Christ finds it so. The Church is
more to Him than all the glory of the kingdom--as
the pearl and the treasure were more to the men who
found them, than all their possessions, for they sold all
to get them. The strayed sheep, the lost piece of
silver, the prodigal son, are more to heaven--to the
Father, to the Shepherd, to the Spirit, and to angels--as
occasions of joy, than all else; just because the heart
has got its object--love has found its answer. *This* is
the mind of Christ. Affection puts the heart on a
journey; and it cannot rest, in the midst of all beside,
without its object; and it says even to the Lord and
His pledges, "What wilt thou give me, seeing I go
childless?"

But bold faith this was indeed, appearing thus to
throw back the words of God. But it was precious
to Him. Yea, it was precious to Him on the highest
kind of title; for faith, acting thus and craving after
this manner, spoke the way and the taste of the divine
mind itself. For God Himself looks for children, as
Abraham did. It is not the spirit of bondage that
is to fill His house, but that of adoption; it is not
servants but children He will have round Him. He
has "predestinated us unto the adoption of children,
by Jesus Christ, *to Himself*." He has found in His
children an object for *Himself*; and Abraham was,
therefore, but telling out the *common* secret of his own
heart, and of the bosom of God. And at once his
desire is answered; and the sight of the starry heavens
is made to pledge to the patriarch something better
than all portions and all conditions; for the Lord says
to him, "So shall thy *seed* be."

How truly may we say, never does faith aim more
justly than when it aims high, and draws with a bold
hand. Never is the mark it sets before it more God's
own purpose. "Ask thee a sign of the Lord thy God,"
says the prophet to the king, "ask it either in the
depth, or in the height above;" range through the
divine resources, and use them. What king Ahaz
would not do, wearying the Lord by his reserve, and
unbelief, and slowness of heart, Abraham does and
continues to do. His soul continues in the same
power of faith to the end of this action. He holds
on in the same track. "I'll give thee this land to
inherit it," says the Lord to him shortly afterwards.
"Whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it?" is
his reply to the Lord. This is of the same fine
character; and being so--bespeaking the boldness of
faith--it is still infinitely acceptable with the Lord.
Abraham seeks something beyond a promise. Not
that he doubted the promise. He was sure of it. It
could never fail. Heaven and earth would pass away,
ere it could pass away. But "oath and blood" to seal
it were desired by Abraham. He loved *covenant* title,
and his faith sought it; but sought no more than grace
and purpose and sovereign good-pleasure had already
designed to give him.

And there lies the richest, fullest consolation. *Faith
is never too bold to please the Lord.* In the days of His
flesh, He often rebuked the reserves and suspicions
of little faith, but never the strength and decision of
a faith that aimed as at everything, and would not
go without a blessing. So, the very style in which,
in this fine chapter (xv.), He answers the faith of His
servant, tells us of the delight with which He had
entertained His servant's boldness. The very *style*
of the answer speaks this in our ears; as afterwards
in the case of the palsied man in Luke v.; for there
the words, "Man, thy sins be forgiven thee," tell how
the heart of the same Lord, the God of Abraham,
had been refreshed by the faith which broke up the
roof of the house without apology, in order to reach
Him. And it is the same here. When a fine, bold,
unquestioning faith sought for a child, the Lord God
took Abraham forth that very night, and, showing him
the starry heavens, said to him, "So shall thy seed
be." When like faith would have the land secured
by something more than a word of promise, the same
Lord pledges the covenant by the passage of a burning
lamp between the pieces of the sacrifice.

This *style*, as I said, is full of meaning. It eloquently
(may I say?) bespeaks the divine mind. The
Lord does not content Himself by merely promising
a child, as by word of mouth, or by merely giving
some other assurances to Abraham that the land shall
be the inheritance of his seed; but, in each case, He
enters on certain actions, and conducts them with
such august and striking solemnities, as lets us know
instinctively, the delight with which He had listened
to these demands of faith.

Would that we knew our God as He is to be
known, for His praise and our comfort! Love delights
to be used. Love is wearied with ceremoniousness.
It is, in its way, a trespasser on love's very nature, and
on its essential mode of acting. Family affection,
for instance, puts ceremony aside all the day long.
Intimacy is there, and not form. Form would be too
cumbrous for it, as Saul's armour was for David. It
has not proved it, and cannot therefore wear it. Love
is doing the business of the house in one and another,
and the common confidence of all allows it to be done
in love's way. So will the Lord have it with Himself.
The intimacy of faith is according to His grace, and
ceremony is but a weariness to Him.

Grace, as we sing at times, is "a sea without a
shore," and we are encouraged to launch forth with
full-spread sails. The pot of oil would have been
without a bottom, had the woman's faith *still* drawn
from it; and the king of Israel's victories would have
been in quick succession, till not a Syrian had been left
to tell the tale, had his faith trod the field of battle as
one who knew it only as a field of conquest. 2 Kings iv.
and xiii. But we are straitened. The boldness of faith
is too fine an element for the niggard heart of man
that cannot trust the Lord: though, blessed to tell it,
it is that which *answers*, as well as *uses*, the boundless
grace of God.

The believing mind is the happy mind; and it is the
obedient mind also, the God-glorifying mind. It is the
thankful and the worshipping mind; the mind too that
keeps the saint the most in readiness for service, and in
separation from pollutions. We may be watchful, and
it is right; we may be self-judging, and it is right; we
may be careful to observe the rule of righteousness in
all that we do, and it is right: but withal, to hold the
heart up in the light of the favour of God, by the
exercise of a simple, child-like, believing mind, this is
what glorifies Him, this is what answers His grace, this
is what above all proves itself grateful to Him with
whom we have to do. "We have access by faith into
this grace wherein we stand." It is not attainment, it
is not watchfulness, it is not services or duties, which
entitle us to take that journey, that gives the soul
entrance into that wealthy place of the divine favour--*by
faith* we have access into this grace wherein we
stand.

But we go onward still in this history, and find it rich
in other instructions and illustrations of the life of
faith.

Sarah now comes forth for the first time in independent
action. Chapters xvi. xvii.

The famine had already, as we saw, tempted Abraham
to seek the *land* of Egypt, and he got the resources of
that land, with shame and sorrow, and a wearisome
journey back again to Canaan. Sarah now tempts him
to seek the *bondmaid* of Egypt.

We know what this Egyptian bondmaid is, from the
divine teaching of the epistle to the Galatians. She is
the covenant from mount Sinai, the law, the religion of
ordinances; and Sarah, in her suggestions to Abraham,
that he should take this Egyptian, represents *nature*,
which always finds its relief and its resources in flesh
and blood, finds its *religion* there also, as well as everything
else.

The Spirit had not as yet dealt with Sarah's soul.
At least, we have had no manifestation of this. She was
an elect one surely; but our election goes long before
we become the subject of divine workmanship; and, as
yet, spiritual life, the life of faith, the operation of the
truth on Sarah through the Holy Ghost, had not been
witnessed. She had not as yet been spoken of by the
Lord. She had not been the companion of her husband
in the exercise of his spirit before God, nor his fellow-disciple
in God's school. She was not called out with
Abraham to number the stars, or to watch the sacrifice.
She was still, I may say, in the place of *nature*; and
accordingly she invites her husband to give her seed by
her Egyptian handmaid.

That is her place in this action; and Abraham becomes
the saint *betrayed by nature*, led in nature's path,
surprised by a temptation from that quarter now, as he
had been before by the pressure of famine.

But all this is unbelief and departure from God. It
is the way of man, the way of nature; not of faith or
of the Spirit. We naturally resort to the law, the
bondwoman, the religion of ordinances, when the *soul*
feels its need; as we naturally go down to Egypt, or
seek the world, when our *circumstances* are needy.
It is unbelief and departure from God, as is seen even
in Abraham; but to leave God and the restorings of
His grace, when the soul has need, is a more grievous
offence and wrong against Him, than to seek help as
from Egypt, when our circumstances have need. My
poverty may tempt me to use shifts and contrivances,
which is bad enough; but if my conscience want healing,
if breaches within need repairing, that I may walk
again in the enjoyed light of His countenance, and I
go to mere religion, or to ordinances, or to anything
but the provisions of His own sanctuary, this is still
worse.

The Hagars and the Pharaohs, the bondmaids and
the wealth of Egypt, are poor resorts for the Abrahams
of God. But so it has been, and so it is, through
the working of nature. But Abraham (we will now
see for our comfort) is under God's eye, though led by
Sarah's suggestions. God has His place in him as well
as nature; and He will assert it for his restoring. He
rises on his soul in a fresh revelation of Himself,
demanding of His saint the fresh obedience of faith.
"I am the almighty God; walk before me, and be thou
perfect." For Abraham's soul had lost this truth, the
almightiness or the all-sufficiency of God. He had
gone in to Hagar; he had taken up confidence in the
flesh; he had left the ground he had stood upon in
chap. xv.; but the Lord will not and cannot allow this;
and therefore rises, in a renewed revelation of Himself,
on the spirit of His saint; and it is a rising "with
healing in its wings;" for Abraham falls on his face,
convicted and abashed, and the soul is led again in
paths of righteousness.

Surely there are to this hour such moments in the
history of "them that believe," as well as of their "father
Abraham." Abraham had not fallen on his face, when
the Lord appeared to him and spoke to him in chap. xv.
There he stood, conscious that he was in the light with
the Lord. But darkness had now come over his soul,
and he is not ready for the Lord. He is on his face,
silent and amazed. He is not standing, urging the
suits of faith, as there; but on his face, silent and
confounded. The change in his experience is great;
but there is no change in the Lord; for it is the same
love, whether He rebuke or comfort. If we walk in
the light, we have fellowship with Him; if we confess
our sins, we have forgiveness with Him; if we be able
to stand before Him, He will feed and strengthen us;
if we must needs fall convicted in His presence, He
will raise us up again.

This is a fine, earnest path of the spirit of a saint.
There is a deep reality here. Departure from God
proves itself to be bitterness; but God proves Himself
to the soul to be restoration and peace; and under
His gracious hand faith is afresh emboldened, and
Abraham plies his suit, as one that was again in the
vigour of chap. xv., and seeks of God that Ishmael
might live before Him.

How one longs to have one's own soul formed by
these blessed revelations of grace, and the inwrought
work of faith which answers them. The scene
changes; but God and the soul are together still.
There is reality--reality in the sadness and in the joy,
in the light of the divine countenance and in the
hiding of our own face as in the dust.

All this may be said of the life of faith, as seen in
chapters xvi. xvii. But on entering upon the next
scene of action, in chapters xviii. xix., I would observe,
that in the life of Abraham we get something beside
these exercises and illustrations of faith. *We get exhibitions
of certain divine mysteries also.*

.. vspace:: 2

All the facts in this history are simple truths. They
happened just as recorded. But there is this twofold
design in them: either to give samples of the life of
faith in a saint, or to give illustrations of some great
ways and purposes of God.

And such illustrations of the divine counsels and
mysteries is the common way of divine wisdom
throughout Scripture. What was the tabernacle or the
temple but a place for the constant rehearsal of mysteries,
such as atonement and intercession, and the
varied order of God in the worship and services of
His house, or in the ministry of grace? For such
were the sacrifices and the services there, the feasts,
and the holy days, and the jubilees. What, in like
manner, were the exodus, and the journey through the
wilderness, and the entrance into Canaan, the wars
there, and then the throne of the peaceful one? Were
not all these, whether institutes of the sanctuary, or
facts in the history, exhibitions of the hidden, eternal
counsels of the divine bosom?

Now chapters xviii. xix. of this history suggest this
recollection. These chapters are to be read together,
and afford us a large and vivid exhibition of certain
great truths, which concern us at this moment, in as
full a sense as ever the facts themselves, which convey
them to us as in a parable, concerned Abraham and
his generation.

Sodom, in that day, was the *world*. It had been
warned, but had refused instruction. It had proved
incurably departed from God, and beyond correction.
Sodom had been visited and chastened in the day of
the victory of the confederated kings--as we saw in
chapter xiv.; but it was Sodom still, and was, at this
time, in advanced iniquity, in a state of ripened
apostasy, her last state worse than her first.

Sodom was the *world* in this day. The Lord Jesus,
in His teaching, gives it morally that place, just as
another generation had been the world in Noah's day.
See Matt. xxiv.; Luke xvii. They are like figures,
presenting to our thoughts "this present evil world,"
which is ripening itself for the judgment of God.

At such a crisis, however, in this day of the judgment
of Sodom, or the overthrow of the cities of
the plain, as in every other like day, there are two
incidental matters to be deeply pondered by our souls;
there is *deliverance out of the judgment*, and there is
*separation before it come*. There is Lot, and there is
Abraham. Lot is delivered, when the hour of the
crisis comes; Abraham is separated before it comes.

All this is much to be weighed in our thoughts.
*Judgment*, *deliverance*, *separation*--these are the elements
of the action here, and these are full of meaning,
and of application to our own history as the Church of
God, and to the world around us.

Before this action opens, Abraham had been in a
heavenly place. He was a stranger on the earth,
having his tent only, and wandering from place to
place without so much as to set his foot on; and
now, when the judgment comes, he is apart from it
altogether, like Enoch, the heavenly Enoch, in another
and earlier day of judgment. Each of these, in the
day of visitation, was outside, beyond, or above the
scene of the ruin; not merely delivered out of it when
it came, but separated from it before it came.

Abraham had already stood with the Lord Himself
on an eminence which overlooked Sodom, as he and
the Lord had walked together from the plain of
Mamre; and now, when the judgment spends itself
on that apostate, polluted city, Abraham is again,
in that high place, beholding the desolation afar off.
He was (in the spirit of the place where he stood)
in company with Him who was executing the judgment.
But Lot is only rescued. Lot is a delivered
man, Abraham is a separated one. As Abraham is
the Enoch, Lot is the Noah of this later day, and is
drawn forth from the devoted city.

What mysteries are these! What solemn realities,
in the counsels of God, are here rehearsed for our
learning! Do we know what we are looking at in all
this? Do we not see great purposes of God, as in a
glass, in this varied and eventful action? Have we
to ask, Where is this mystic ground, on which we are
here standing? Surely, beloved, we ought to know
it. In this action, the world, as Sodom, is typically
meeting its doom; the righteous remnant, as in Lot,
are delivered in that hour of wrath; and the Church,
as in Abraham, already separated and borne above,
looks afar off on the scene of the mighty desolation.
Surely these mysteries are before us in this action at
Sodom. "Known unto God are all His works from
the beginning of the world." The world, the Church,
and the kingdom, are here in mysteries or types; the
thing that is to be judged; the thing that is to be
separated to heavenly glory; the thing that is to be
delivered, and thus reserved for the earth again after
the purification. Enoch, Noah, and the deluged creation
are again here in Abraham, and Lot, and the
doomed cities of the plain.

These are mysteries of which the Book of God is
full. And thus is it again and afresh witnessed to
us, what we are and where we are, though travelling
on, to all appearance, in the common track of everyday
human life, with a generation, in the spirit of
their mind, still, as ever, saying, "Where is the promise
of His coming? for since the fathers fell asleep,
all things continue as they were from the beginning
of the creation."

Many incidental things might occur to the mind in
this, as in other sections of this wonderful history;
such as the visit of the Son of God to Abraham;
Abraham's intercession for Sodom; the angels' reserve
towards Lot; and the contrasted characters of the two
saints--the saint of the tent, and the saint in Sodom.
But my purpose, in this little book, does not take in
such details. But I would ask, in closing this action
in chapters xviii. xix. Are we, beloved, apprehensive of
the moment in which we are living? Is "man's day"
brightening up to its meridian before us, ascending to
its noontide splendour? And what think we of that?
Are we joining in the congratulations of man with
his fellow, that thus it is? Or is all this brightness
suspected and challenged by us, as the sure precursor
of God's judgment? Do we know that the god of
this world finds a house "swept and garnished" as
thoroughly a scene for his evil and destructive energy
as a Sodom? Do we judge, with our generation, that
this cannot be? Or do we hold it in mind, that it is
in such a house that he will work at the closing of
Christendom's history? And are we waiting for the
Son of God to take us up to that mystic eminence
where of old He took His Abraham? The Lord give
us grace to occupy such ground! And we shall the
more easily and naturally do so, if, like Abraham, we
are saints of the tent and not of the city--such saints
(again like Abraham) as rejoice, "in the heat of the
day," to hold communion with the Lord of glory.

After this we go, with our patriarch, into the land
of the Philistines, where he sojourns during the times
of chapters xx. xxi.

The old compact between Abraham and Sarah is
acted on again, after so long a time--acted on now at
Gerar, as before it had been in Egypt. It had been
made between them ere they left their native country.
It was brought out with them from the very place of
their birth. It was, I may say, in them older than anything
of God; and after many changes and exercises it
is in them and with them the same thing still.

It was a very evil thing--both subtle and unclean.
It was false and yet specious, and savoured strongly of
the serpent, of him that is a liar and the father of lies.
Abraham was forced to betray it, vile as it was, to the
king of Gerar. "It came to pass, when God caused me
to wander from my father's house, that I said unto
her, This is thy kindness which thou shalt show
unto me: at every place whither we shall come, say
of me, He is my brother." This was worse than we
might even have feared. There was not a principle in
the life of faith that was not gainsaid by so vile a
compact as this, brought from the very place of their
nativity with them. And such is the flesh, the inbred
corruption. Its way, whenever taken, is shame and
deep dishonour. It degrades a saint even before men.
It is that which will confound and expose an Abraham
before an Abimelech. And it never changes, or improves,
or ceases to be. It is the same in Egypt, and at
Gerar. It lives in us still, and follows us everywhere.
We get it at our birth from the loins of Adam; and
we are, for the common consistency of our way as the
called of God, to mortify and refuse it.

Wretched indeed it is to have to see such a thing
as this. But the Spirit of God hides nothing. There
it lies before us, this vile and wicked thing, in the
pathway of the recording Spirit. We have, however,
other happier objects.

The progress of Sarah's soul, under the light and
leading of the Lord, is to be tracked in its own peculiar
and instructive path. Under the influence of
the flesh she had, at the outset, joined Abraham in
this unclean compact, of which I have just spoken.
In unbelief, she had afterwards, as we also saw, given
Hagar to her husband; and then, in the haste and
rebellion of the heart, she resented the effects of that
unbelief, and cast out the bondwoman, whom she had
adopted and settled in the family. But at the command
of the Lord, Hagar had gone back to her; and
now, at the time of this action, she had borne with
her in the house for fourteen years. There was, however,
no manifestation of the renewed mind, or the
life of faith, in her. It was even during these years,
that in unbelief she had laughed at the promise, behind
the tent-door. But still, I may say, she had, during
this time, in one sense, *been at school*; and she seems to
have learnt a lesson, for she submitted patiently and
unresistingly, to the presence of the bondwoman and
her child in the house of her husband. We hear of
no fresh quarrels between them. This was something.
This was witness of her being in the hand of God, till
at length, as we know, she was given faith to conceive
seed. Heb. xi. A great journey, however, after all
this, is now about to be taken by her spirit. She is
to take the lead even of her husband. And happy
this is--common enough, too, among the saints--but
happy, very happy. And were we of a delivered
heart--a heart given up to the desire of Christ's glory
only--we should rejoice in these discoveries, made in
the regions of the Spirit, though we ourselves would
have to be humbled by them. "The last shall be
first, and the first last." These are among the ways
of "new-born souls," and to be discerned still by those
who "mark the steps of grace." Paul could say of
some, "Who also were in Christ before me;" but we
may be bold to add, in that case, though he did not,
"The last were first." And the generous liberty of the
redeemed soul will but glory in these sovereign actings
of the Spirit.

Sarah's elevation above Abraham in the things of
the kingdom of God is now to appear in illustration of
all this. In obedience to the command, Abraham calls
the child that was born, Isaac. But Sarah *interprets*
that name: and this is a finer exercise of soul over
the gift of God. To obey a word is good; but to obey
it in the joy of an exercised heart, and in the light
and intelligence of a mind that has entered into the
divine sense of that word, is better. Abraham called
the child that was born to him, Isaac: but Sarah said
"God has made me to laugh; and all they that hear it
will laugh with me." The oracle of chapter xvii. 19 was
made more to her than a command to be observed. It
had springs of refreshing in it, and kindlings of soul.
It was full of light and meaning to the opened understanding
of Sarah. And this leads to strength and
decision. This Deborah of earlier days will brace the
loins of Barak. "Cast out this bondwoman and her
son," says Sarah to Abraham; for she was happy in
the liberty of grace and promise, while he was still
lingering amid the claims of nature, and the desires
which his own loins had gendered. "Cast out this
bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman
shall not be heir with my son, even with
Isaac." And this was *Scripture*, as we read in Gal. iv.;
this was the voice of God. This decision of faith, in
the liberty of grace, gets its sealing at once under
God's own hand. "Stand fast in the liberty wherewith
Christ hath made you free," says the Spirit. And
what met the mind of the Lord, in the days of His
flesh, like the faith which was bold and free, after
this manner? the faith which would use Him without
ceremony, which reached Him through a crowd, which
pressed in through the silent reproaches of a misjudging
Pharisee, or through the injurious whispers of a
self-righteous multitude! And how much of the energy
of the Spirit in St. Paul is engaged in giving the sinner
this precious boldness, this immediate assurance of heart
in Christ, in spite of law, conscience, earth, and hell!

This boldness of faith in Sarah, this challenge of the
bondwoman, this demand (in her own behalf too) that
she might enjoy her Isaac all alone, is *Scripture*. Gal. iv.
30. She spake as "the oracles of God." But in
Abraham nature now acts. He would fain retain
Ishmael. This is no strange thing. Nature now acts
in Abraham, and faith in Sarah; as, on an earlier
occasion, which we noticed, nature had acted in Sarah
and faith in Abraham. But nature in Abraham must
submit. He must not let Sarah be entangled any longer
as with this yoke of bondage. The house must be freed
of Ishmael, for it is to be built only in Isaac. "The son
of the bondwoman shall not be heir with the son of the
freewoman."

But all this quickly bears its fruit. Hagar being now
gone, and the house settled in Isaac according to this
demand of faith, glory is therefore quickly ready to
enter. For this is the divine order. Having "access
into this grace wherein we stand, we rejoice in hope
of the glory of God." Such is the order of the Spirit
in the soul of such a saint; and such is the order now
in the mystic house of our Abraham.

*Abraham is sought by the Gentile.* This is full of
meaning. In the days of stress and famine, Abraham
seeks the Gentile, whether in Egypt or in Philistia;
but now, the Gentile seeks Abraham. This is a great
change. Abraham's house, as we have seen, is now
established in grace. Ishmael is dismissed, and Isaac
is gloried in. In mystic sense, Israel has turned to the
Lord, the veil is taken away, Jerusalem has said to
Christ, "Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the
Lord," her warfare is therefore accomplished, and she
is receiving the double. The Gentile seeks Israel.
Abimelech and Phichol, the king and his chief captain,
come to Abraham.

This is a great dispensational change. Israel is the
head now, and not the tail. The skirt of the Jew is
now laid hold on by the nations; for the Jew has, by
faith, laid hold on the Lord, and the nations say, God
is with you. Chap. xxi. 22; Zech. viii. 23.

This is full of meaning; and Abraham on all this
(led of the Spirit) is full of thoughts of glory or of
the kingdom. And rightly so. Because, when the
Jew is sought by the Gentile, instead of being trodden
down or degraded by the Gentile, the kingdom is at
hand. Accordingly, on the king of Gerar seeking
him and suing him, our patriarch raises a *new* altar;
not the altar of a heavenly stranger, as in chapter xii.,
but an altar to "the everlasting God;" not an altar
in a wilderness-world, but an altar beside a *grove* and
a *well*; the one being a witness that the solitary
place had been made glad, and that the wilderness
was rejoicing; the other, that the peoples of the earth
were confederate with the seed of Abraham. [#]_

.. [#] The Lord Jesus, in His day, acknowledged this same pledge or
   symptom of the kingdom. For when the Greeks came up to the
   feast and asked to see Him, as the Gentile here seeks Abraham, His
   thoughts are immediately upon His glory. He knows indeed that
   glory is to be reached only by His death, and so He testifies; but still,
   His thoughts go out at once to the glory. See John xii. 23.

All this bright intelligence of faith in Abraham is
very beautiful. We have already seen other actings
of it in him. He knew a time of peace and a time
of war, and acted accordingly in the day of the battle
of the five kings with four. So, again, he knew his
heavenly place, and took it, when the fire of the Lord
was judging the cities of the plain. So, again, as this
chapter xxi. very remarkably shows us, he also knew
when to suffer wrong and when to resent, when to be
passive and when to assert his rights. For now, in the
time of this chapter, when the Gentile seeks him, he
reproves Abimelech for a well of water which Abimelech's
servants had violently taken away. *But he had
not complained of this injury until now*; for Abimelech
said to him, "I wot not who has done this thing;
neither didst thou tell me, neither yet heard I of it,
but to-day." And this is exceedingly beautiful. It is
perfect in its generation. Abraham had till now suffered,
and taken it patiently, because till now he had been a
heavenly stranger on the earth; and such patient
suffering in such an one is acceptable with God. But
now, times are changed. The heavenly stranger has
become the head of the nations, sought by the Gentile;
and rights and wrongs must now be settled, and the
cry of the oppressed must be heard.

All this has great moral beauty in it. I know not
how sufficiently to admire this workmanship of the
Spirit in the mind of Abraham. He was an Israelite
who knew the seasons of the year--when to be at
the Passover, and when at the Feast of Tabernacles.
He knew, in spirit, when to continue with Jesus in
His temptations, and then again, when the day arrived,
how to surround Him with hosannahs as He entered
the city of the Son of David. All such various and
blending lights shone in the spiritual intelligence of
his soul. God, by the Spirit, communicated a beautiful
mind to Abraham. In other days, he would not have
so much of this earth as to set his foot on--he
would surrender the choice of the land to Lot--he
would leave the Canaanite where he found him--he
would refuse to be enriched by the king of Sodom even
in so little as a thread or a shoe-latchet--he would
wander up and down in his tent here, a stranger from
heaven--but now, in a day signified and marked by
the hand of God, he can be another man, and know
his millennial place, as father of the Israel of God,
and their representative as head of the nations. He
can keep the Feast of Tabernacles in its season. His
rebuke of Abimelech--his entertaining him--his enriching
him--his giving him covenant pledges--and all
this in such easy, conscious dignity--and then his
new altar or his calling on God in a new character,
and his planting a grove, all bespeak another man,
and that a transfiguration, if I may so speak, had
taken place in him, according to God.

All this I judge to have a great character in it.
But I will not any longer stay here; for there is still
more in this fine life of faith which our father Abraham,
through grace, tracked to the very end, holding
still the beginning of his confidence.

And here let me say, this life of faith is, in other
words, life spent in the *power of resurrection*. It is
the life of a dead and risen man. It is a lesson, if
one may speak for others, hard indeed to be learnt to
any good effect, but still it is the lesson, the practical
lesson of our lives, that we are a dead and risen
people. At the outset Abraham, in spirit, took that
character. He left behind him all that nature or the
world had provided him with. He left what his *birth*
introduced him to, for that which *faith* introduced
him to. And as he began, so he continued and ended,
with failings by the way indeed, and that too again
and again, but still to the end he was a man of faith, a
dead and risen man.

As such an one he had received Isaac, some twenty
years ago, not considering his own body now dead,
neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb; and as
such an one he now offers him on the altar at the
word of the Lord. The promise was *God's*--that was
enough for him. For *faith* is never overcome. It
has divine, infinite resources. The believer fails again
and again; but faith is never overcome, or comes short
of its expectation. xxii.

This is the way of faith, when Isaac was demanded. [#]_
And the same overcoming faith we trace in the very
next scene, the burial of Sarah. This was the same
faith, the faith of a dead and risen man, the faith
which had already *received* Isaac, and *offered* Isaac,
now buries Sarah. Abraham believed in resurrection,
and in God as the God of resurrection, the God who
quickens the dead, and calls those things that be
not as though they were. The cave of Machpelah
tells us this. "Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to
ashes, *in sure and certain hope*," was the language of
Abraham's heart there. His purchase of that place,
with all his care to make it his own, to have it as his
*possession*, while beyond it he cared not for a single
acre of the whole land, tells us of his faith in resurrection.
His treaty for it with the children of Heth
is like his words to his servants at the foot of mount
Moriah, "Abide ye here with the ass, while I and the
lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to
you." Each of these things bespoke beforehand what
he knew about his Isaac and his Sarah. He committed 
each of them into the hands of Him who, as
he knew, quickens the dead. The corn of wheat
dying, as he knew, was to live again. The handful
of sacred dust, as he knew, was to be gathered again.
Death itself was eyed in like victory of faith, as had
already been eyed the fire, and the wood, and the
beloved victim on the altar. xxiii.

.. [#] There are *mysteries* as well as *illustrations of faith* in these things;
   but I cannot follow them here. The offer of Isaac on Moriah, we
   none of us doubt, is a mystery. So, I surely know, is the action of
   Hagar and Ishmael in chapter xxi. It is the picture of the present
   *outcast* but *preserved* Jew--a homeless fugitive, destined, however, for
   future purposes of mercy. See Gal. iv. 25. But I follow not these
   things particularly here.

These were the victories of faith again. Faith in
our patriarch, after this manner, talked calmly with
all circumstances, and won the day over them all in
their turn. Beautiful victories of "precious faith"!
And they are gained still. Faith still disposes of one
circumstance after another as it rises. It meets our
own personal condition as "dead in trespasses and
sins;" it meets the difficulties and temptations of
the way; it meets the last great enemy. Let me not
make a wonder of meeting things on the journey, or
at the end of it, if I have already met what withstood
me at the outset. Faith will go to mount Moriah, or
to the cave of Machpelah, if it have already gone
out in the starry night with the Lord at Hebron. If
it have met death in my own person, it may meet it
in my Isaac or my Sarah. One speaks, the Lord
knows, of His grace, and not of one's own experience.
But still, beloved, let each of us say, Am I not at
peace with God? Do I not know that He is for me?
Do I not know that my estate of sin, guilt, and condemnation
has been met in His grace? Do I not
know that I am washed, accepted, adopted? Have
I not gone out with Abraham, as in the night of
chap. xv., and found relief for my own state by nature,
and shall I then tarry on my way, though the trial of
mount Moriah await me, or the death and burial at
Machpelah? If faith have already met sin, it is to
know itself conqueror over even death. Let our souls
be accustomed to the thought that the *brightest
victory of faith was achieved at the beginning*--that
if at peace with God in spite of sin, we may reckon
on strength and comfort from Him in spite of the
trials of the way, and on power and triumph in Him
in spite of the end of it. Faith which has done its
*first* work has done its *greatest* work. "If, when we
were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death
of His Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be
saved by His life." God is glorified in these reckonings
of faith. "He that spared not His own Son, but
delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with
Him also freely give us all things?"

It is the power of life over death, life in victory,
that faith uses. It was such power of victorious life
that Abraham possessed himself of by faith. The
sepulchre is empty, and the grave-clothes are lying
there, as the spoils of war. The deadness of his own
body, the altar of his Isaac, and the grave of his Sarah,
were visited and inspected by a *risen* man, in the
light of the faith of Him who is the Quickener of the
dead, and calleth those things that be not as though
they were.

These are the great things of faith in the souls of
the elect. But further still, in this fruitful, shifting
history. Abraham, at the end, is seen to hold his first
ground, as well as to work his earlier victories. He
maintains, through grace, erect and firm, that very
attitude which he had at once and at the first assumed,
when by faith he hearkened to the call of God.

That call of God had done these two things with
Abraham, I might say *for* Abraham; it had separated
him from Mesopotamia, and yet left him a stranger in
Canaan. From country, kindred, and father's house
he had been withdrawn; but still, in the midst of
that land and people to which he had come, he was to
be but a pilgrim, dwelling as on the surface of it, in a
tent, whatever part of it he might pass through or
visit.

This position was very holy. His separation was
twofold--separation from pollution, such as he might
meet in Canaan; separation from natural alliances,
such as he had been born into in Mesopotamia. He
was under the call of the God of glory; and such a
call made no terms with either the flesh or the world.
In somewhat of Levite holiness, he did not know his
mother's children; in somewhat of church holiness, he
knew no man after the flesh. Nay; beyond even all
this, in somewhat of the virtue of his divine Lord,
he did not know *himself*. He was the heir of the
land where he was a pilgrim. The *promise* of God
was his, as surely as the *call*. He knew himself to
be destined of divine, unimpeachable purpose, to
dignities of a very high order. But to the end he
was willing to pass unknown, entirely unknown. He
talked of himself to the children of the land only as
a stranger and a sojourner. He would pay for the
smallest plot of ground which he wanted. He would
be nothing and nobody in the midst of them. He
never talked of the dignities which he knew, all the
time, really attached to him. David, in like spirit, in
other days, had the oil of Samuel on him, the consecration
of God to the throne of the tribes of Israel;
and yet he would be hid, and thank a rich neighbour,
in his need, for a piece of bread. These men of God
knew not themselves. This was the way of our Abraham;
and this was the virtue of Him who, in this
same departed, evil world, made Himself of no reputation,
though God of heaven and earth.

Blessed virtues of soul under the power of the call
of God, through the Holy Ghost! Mesopotamia is
left, Canaan is estranged, and self is forgotten and
hid! The call of God purposes to do at this day with
us what in that day it did with Abraham. It would
fain conform us to itself. Its authority is supreme.
It is not that country or kindred are, of necessity,
defiling. Nature accredits them; and the law of God,
in its season, owns and enforces them. But the call of
God is supreme, and demands separation of a very
high, and fine, and peculiar order. And this was what
addressed Abraham when he dwelt in Mesopotamia,
the place of his birth, of his kindred, and of his
natural associations, and this was what still echoed in
his heart all the time of his sojourn in Canaan.

It was not that he was called to assert the *harm* of
such things. Not at all. But they were such things as
the call of God left behind; and the harm, or the moral
wrong, or the pollution of a thing was no longer his
rule, but *inconsistency with the call of God*. He may
allow the right and the claim of a thousand things; but
it is the voice of the God of glory, to which in faith he
had hearkened already, that must lead him and command
him. "No man, having put his hand to the plough,
and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."

He was very true to his call. According to it, at the
beginning, he had gone forth, not knowing, as before
him, whither he went, and leaving, as behind him, all
that even nature itself must accredit, and all but the
sovereign pleasure of God sanction. He continued in
the power of it, sojourning in tents, unknown and
unendowed, a stranger in the world, refusing to take one
backward step. And at the end, we find the same power
of his call as fresh in his soul as ever--as earnest and
as simple in chap. xxiv. as it had been in chap. xii. He
charges Eliezer to act upon it to the full, as he himself
at the outset had done--that is, he was to keep Isaac in
the place of separation at all cost. Let come what may,
Isaac was neither to be taken back to Mesopotamia, nor
to be allied with Canaan. He was, let circumstances
make it difficult as they may, to be maintained in his
true place under the call of God.

This has a great character in it. There is another
mystery in this exquisite chapter (xxiv.), as we commonly
know; but I do not notice it here. I rather design to
trace the earnest, simple path, which faith trod from first
to last, in our father Abraham. The voice of the God of
glory was *still* heard by him. He was *still* the separated
man. He declared plainly that he sought a heavenly
country. He might have had opportunity to return.
This very journey of Eliezer proved that he had not
forgotten the road. But he did not, he would not.

This strangership of our patriarch in the earth has
indeed a very fine character. He left Mesopotamia, he
sojourned in Canaan, he hid or forgot himself! Abraham
left Abraham behind, as well as country, kindred, and
father's house. He made himself of no reputation. He
spoke of himself as "a stranger and a sojourner," and
as that only, in the audience of the children of Heth,
though he was, all the while, the one "who had the
promises." All this was real, true-hearted strangership
in the world. And it was conscious citizenship in heaven
that made him, after this manner, a willing stranger
here. Because of possessions in prospect, he could do
without them in hand. The land of promise was to him
but a strange country, because it was but a land of
promise and not of possession. He saw Christ's day, and
was glad; but he saw it in the distance. Heb. xi. 9-14.

.. vspace:: 2

And Abraham was all this to the very end--as these
closing chapters show us. The character which he took
up at the beginning, under the call of God, that character
he maintained to the end. He fails in the power of
faith along the road, again and again, but he is the
same heavenly stranger to the end of his journey. [#]_

.. [#] In the mystic history of the earth given to us in Lev. xxiii. the
   Church is brought in as the "poor" and the "stranger" gleaning in
   another man's field, in ver. 22. But as she entered that field so she
   left it. She was the poor one, and the stranger, and the gleaner in
   another's field, to the end. The field never becomes her property.

   Looked at in the light of this beautiful figure, what is Christendom
   under God's eye?

And strangership of this order is ours, I am deeply
assured. Ours is to be strangership in the earth,
because of conscious and well-known citizenship in
heaven; separation from the world, because of oneness
with an already risen Christ. Nothing can alter this
while we are on the earth. We ought so to look in
the face of a *rejected* Christ as to maintain this
strangership in power. And so we do, as far as Christ
is of more value to us than all our circumstances. It
is for want of this that we take up with the world as
we do. We have not learnt the lesson that Moses
learnt--that the reproach of Christ was greater riches
than the treasures of Egypt.

Hard but blessed. Abraham knew something of it
in power. He was the stranger to the end. He might
have returned to Mesopotamia. He had not forgotten
the road, as we observed before; and the constant
respect and friendliness of all his neighbours proved
that there was no enemy to hinder the journey. But
the call of God had fixed his heart, and he looked
only where it led him. [#]_

.. [#] The Lord Jesus, in the days of His flesh, acted as the God who,
   of old, had called Abraham. *For He put in the supreme claims of
   such an one.* "He that loveth father or mother more than Me," says
   He, "is not worthy of Me." And again, "Follow Me, and let the
   dead bury their dead." Who but God can step in between us and
   such relationships, such obligations and services? Duties and affections
   like these are more than sanctioned by nature; they are enforced
   by law--law of God Himself. But the call of God is supreme, and
   Jesus asserted it in the day of His humiliation here.

Would that the soul held these things in increased
power! Little indeed does the heart know of this, if
one may speak for others. But they are real--the
prized fruit of divine energy in the elect of God.

After all this we find another and distinct matter in
the history of Abraham. I mean his marriage with
Keturah, and his family by her.

This family by Keturah is, we may surely judge, a
distinct mystery. That is, Abraham is here presenting
a new feature of the divine wisdom, or illustrating
another secret in the ways of the divine dispensations.
In these children of the second wife we get (typically)
the millennial nations, the nations which shall people
the earth in the days of the kingdom, branches of the
great family of God in that day, and children of
Abraham. They may lie far off, as in the ends of
the earth; but they shall have their allotments, and
be owned as of the one extended millennial family.
"Rejoice, ye Gentiles, with His people," shall be said
to them. The ends of the earth shall be Christ's inheritance
then, as surely as the Church shall be glorified
in Him and with Him in the heavens, and the
throne of David, and the inheritance of Israel be His,
as set up and revived in the land of their fathers.
Abraham's children will be all the world over.

For in that day of glory, the King of Israel shall
be the God of the whole earth. Christ is the Father
of the everlasting age. If Israel be honoured by
Him, all the nations shall be blest in Him. He is
"the light to lighten the Gentiles," as He is "the
glory of His people Israel." Keturah's children,
parcelled off in other lands, bespeak this mystery.
They will be second to Israel, it is true; but, nevertheless,
they will be elect and beloved. As it is here
written: And Abraham gave all that he had unto
Isaac. But unto the sons of the concubines which
Abraham had, Abraham gave gifts, and sent them
away from Isaac his son, while he yet lived, eastward,
unto the east country. xxv. [#]_

.. [#] The same mystery, I doubt not, is presented in the marriage of
   Moses and the Ethiopian, and in that also of Solomon with Pharaoh's
   daughter. Moses' second wife stands, in dignity, below his Zipporah,
   who shines in peculiar glory at the mount of God in Exodus xviii.;
   and Pharaoh's daughter, though fully acknowledged by the king at
   Jerusalem, would not be given a place in the city of David.

This is, I believe, the mystic meaning of this new
family of Abraham; and this strange and wondrous
article is that which closes his history. But it is
another witness of the large and varied testimony
which God has borne to His own counsels and secrets
in that history. And this is very remarkable. At
times *the Father* is seen in Abraham--as, in his
desire for children--his making a feast at the weaning
of Isaac--his offering up of his son--his sending
for a wife for his son; at other times *the Christ* is
seen in him, as the one in whom all the families of
the earth are to be blest--as the kinsman-redeemer
of Israel--as the holder of the headship of the nations--father
of the millennial or everlasting age--and
then, at other times, *the Church*, or heavenly people,
are traced or reflected in this wondrous story; and,
at other times, we are on earth, or with *Israel*.

We have the Blessed One, unto whom all His works
are known from the beginning of the world, in the
details and changeful stories of this life of Abraham,
thus showing forth parts of His ways. In the allegories
of Sarah and her seed, of Hagar and her seed,
of Keturah and her seed, we have the mystery of
Jerusalem, "the mother of us all," Israel in bondage
as she now is with her children, and the gathering
of the nations all the world over, as branches of the
one extended millennial family. Mystery after mystery
is thus acted in the life of Abraham; and many and
various parts of "the manifold wisdom of God" are
taught us.

I am quite aware, that *living or personal* types may
have been as unconscious of what they were, under
God's hand, as *material* types. Hagar, no doubt, was
as passive as the gold that overlaid the table of shew-bread,
or as the water which filled the brazen laver.
But the lesson to us is not affected by this. I have
Christ's royal glory in the state of Solomon, and I
have the deeply precious provisions of His grace in
the golden plate on Aaron's forehead; and I no more
think of enquiring about Solomon himself in that
matter than I do about the gold. The sleeping Adam
teaches me about the death of the Christ of God;
the waking rapture of Adam, on receiving Eve, teaches
me about the satisfaction and joy of the same Christ
of God, when He shall see of the travail of His soul;
but whether Adam knew what he was doing for me,
I do not ask myself. I can learn about the first covenant
from an unconscious Hagar, as I can learn about
the cleansing of the blood of Christ from an unconscious
altar. So, as to our Abraham, in taking his
place in the midst of all these varied and wondrous
mysteries, I enquire not curiously the measure of his
mind in these things. The wisdom of God can say--the
Christ who stood in the eternal counsels can say,
"Behold, I and the children whom the Lord hath given
me are for signs and for wonders;" but how far Abraham
could speak so, in whatever measure he was
himself in the secret he was made to utter, or whether
he spoke mysteries as in an unknown tongue, we have
not to enquire. "God is His own interpreter."

Our patriarch has now closed his actings and his
exercises. We have now to close his eyes, as we read
in chap. xxv. 7, 8, "And these are the days of the
years of Abraham's life which he lived, an hundred
threescore and fifteen years. Then Abraham gave up
the ghost, and died in a good old age, an old man, and
full of years; and was gathered to his people."

He had, we may say, seen the land, but he was not
to go over and possess it. He was the Moses of an
earlier generation; like him, a *heavenly* man, a man
of the wilderness and not of the inheritance--a
man of the tent--a child of resurrection. He was
gathered to his people, ere the land was entered by the
Israel of God according to promise. As in the glass
of God's purpose, and by the light of faith, he sees
the land; but he goes not over to possess it. He
dies as on Mount Pisgah, on the wilderness-side of the
Jordan, destined, with Enoch before him and with
Moses after him, to shine on the top of the hill in the
heavenly glory of the Son of man.

.. vspace:: 2

We have now closed the third section of the Book of
Genesis; and, with it, the scenes and circumstances of
the life of Abraham.

In the midst of these fragments, thus gathered and
treasured up for us by the Holy Ghost, we have seen
faith getting its victories, knowing its rights and pleading
its titles, practising its generosity, enjoying its fellowships,
making its surrenders, and obtaining its consolations
and promises. But we have seen also its *intelligence*,
and learnt it to be such a thing as walks in the light,
or according to the judgment, of the mind of Christ.

There is something very beautiful in such a sight as
this. We do not commonly witness this fine combination--the
*intelligence* of faith, and the *moral power*
of faith. In some saints, there is the earnest, urgent
power of faith, which goes on right truthfully and
honestly, but with many a mistake as to the dispensational
wisdom of God. In others, there is a mind
nicely taught, endowed with much priestly, spiritual
skill, in following the wisdom of God in ages and
dispensations, but with lack of power in all that
service which a simpler and more earnest faith would
be constantly pursuing. But in Abraham we see these
things combined.

In our walk with God, the light of the knowledge
of His mind should be seen, as well as our hearts be
ever found open to His presence and joy, and our
consciences alive to His claims and His will. The
life of faith is a very incomplete thing, if we know
not, as Abraham knew, the times as signified of God,
when to fight, as it were, and when to be still; when
to be silent under the wrongs of an Abimelech, and
when to resent them; when to raise the altar of a
sojourning stranger, and when to call on the name of
the everlasting God. In other words, we ought to
know what the Lord is about, according to His own
eternal purpose, and what He is leading onward to its
consummation, in His varied and fruitful wisdom.

Such is the nature of all obedience; for the conduct
of the saint is ever to be according to the dispensed
wisdom of God at the time, or in the given age.

But, let me add, the highest point of moral dignity
in Abraham was this: that he was *a stranger in the
earth*.

This, I may say, outshines all. It was this that
made God not *ashamed* to be called his God. God can
*morally* own the soul that advisedly refuses citizenship
in this revolted, corrupted world.

This was the highest point in moral dignity in
Abraham.

God loveth the stranger. Deut. x. 18. He loves the
*poor*, *unfriended* stranger, with the love of pity and of
grace, and provides for him. But with the *separated*
stranger, who has turned his back on this polluted
scene, God links His name and His honour, and
morally owns such without shame. Heb. xi. 13-16.

How finely he started on his journey at the beginning! 
The Lord and His promises were all he had.
He left, as we have seen, his *natural* home behind
him, but he did not expect to find *another* home in
the place he was going to. He knew that he was to
be a stranger and sojourner with God in the earth.
Mesopotamia was left, but Canaan was not taken up
in the stead of it. Accordingly, from all the people
there, he was a separated man all his days, or during
his sojourn among them of about one hundred years.
Canaan was the *world* to that heavenly man, and he
had as little to do with it or to say to it as he might,
though all the while in it. When circumstances demanded
it, or as far as business involved him, he dealt
with it. He would traffic with the people of the land,
if need were (to be sure he would), but his sympathies
were not with them. He needed a burying-place, and
he purchased it of the children of Heth. He would
not think of hesitating to treat with them about a
necessary matter of bargain and sale; but he would
rather *buy* than *receive*. He was loth to be debtor to
them, or to be enriched by them--nor were they his
*companions*. This we observe throughout. If Aner,
Eshcol, and Mamre--it may be morally attracted by
what they saw in him--seek confederacy with him, he
will not refuse their alliance on a given occasion of the
common interest, when such interest the God who had
called him would sanction or commend. But still the
Canaanites were not his company. His wife was his
company, his household, his flocks and his herds, and
his fellow-saint, Lot, his brother's son, who had come
out of Mesopotamia with him--as long, at least, as
such an one walked as a separated man in Canaan.
But even *he*, when undistinguished from the people
of the land, is a stranger to him as well and as fully
as they.

.. vspace:: 2

All this has surely a voice in our ears. Angels
were Abraham's company at times, and so the Lord
of angels--and at all times, his altar and his tent
were with him, and the mysteries or truths of God,
as they were made known to him. But the people
of the land, the men of the world, did not acquire
his tastes or sympathies, or share his confidence. He
was *among* them but not *of* them--and rather would
he have had his house unbuilt, and Isaac be without
a wife, than that such wife should be a daughter of
Canaan.

To some of us, beloved, this breaking up of natural
things is terrible. But if Jesus were loved more, all
this would be the easier reckoned on. If His value
for us *within the veil* were more pondered in our
hearts and treasured up there, we should go to Him
*without the camp* with firmer, surer step. "I have
learnt," said one of the martyrs, "that there is no
freedom like that of the heart that has given up all
for Christ--no wisdom like that learnt at His feet--no
poetry like the calm foreseeing of the glory that
shall be."

.. vspace:: 2

Of our Abraham and his companions in this life of
faith, confessing that they were strangers and pilgrims
on the earth, it is written, "They that say such things
declare plainly that they seek a country--and truly
if they had been mindful of that from whence they
came out, they might have had opportunity to have
returned, but now they desire a better country, that
is, an heavenly, wherefore God is not ashamed to
be called their God, for He hath prepared for them
a city."

Beloved, we are called to be these strangers--strangers
such as God can thus morally own. If the world
were not Abraham's object, we ought to feel, even on
higher sanctions, that it cannot be ours. The call of
the God of glory made Abraham a stranger here--the
cross of Christ, in addition to that, may still more
make us strangers. As we sometimes sing--

   |
   |   "Before His cross we now are left,
   |   As strangers in the land."
   |

"Ye are dead," says the apostle, "and your life is
hid with Christ in God." That is strangership of the
highest order--the strangership of the Son of God
Himself. "The world knoweth us not, because it
knew Him not."

In the strength of this strangership in the world,
may we have grace to "abstain from fleshly lusts
which war against the soul"! and in the strength of
our conscious citizenship in heaven may "we look
for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall
change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like
unto His glorious body, according to the working
whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto
Himself."

.. vspace:: 4

.. class:: center large

   _`ISAAC`.

.. class:: center medium

   GENESIS XXV.-XXVII.

.. vspace:: 2

In the former papers, entitled :small-caps:`Enoch`, :small-caps:`Noah`, and
:small-caps:`Abraham`, I have followed the course of the Book of
Genesis, down to the end of chapter xxiv. I now
propose to take it up from thence, and follow it on
through chapters xxv.-xxvii.; Isaac, after Abraham,
being the principal person there.

There is, however, but little in his history, and little
in his character. In some respects this is no matter; for,
whether much or little, his name is in the recollection of
us all who have learnt the ways of the God of grace, "the
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob," which is His name
for ever, His memorial unto all generations. Exod. iii.

Isaac was a stranger in the earth, a heavenly
stranger, as his father had been, and we see him with
his tent and his altar, as we saw Abraham; and we
hear the Lord giving him the promises, as He had
given them to Abraham.

"By faith Abraham 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."

This tent-life of the patriarchs had a great character
in it. Hebrews xi. 9, 10 teaches us this. It tells us
that the fathers were content to live upon the surface
of this world. A tent has no foundations. It is
pitched or struck at a moment's warning. And such
a slight and passing connection with this earth, and
life upon it, these patriarchs were satisfied to have
and seek only. They did not look for a city or for
foundations, till God became a Builder. Till His
building was manifested they were sojourners here,
just crossing the plain, or surface of the earth, without
striking their roots into it.

This is the voice that is heard from the tents of
these pilgrim-fathers. And as their tents bespoke this
heavenly strangership, their altars bespoke their worship,
their *true* worship; for they raised their altar to
Him who had *appeared* to them. They did not affect
to find out God by their wisdom, and then worship
Him in the light and dictate of their own thoughts.
They did not, thus, in the common folly, profess themselves
to be wise; but they knew God and worshipped
God only according to His revelation of Himself.
Therefore it was not an altar "to the unknown God"
at which they served; but they served or worshipped
in truth. And in its generation the patriarchal *altar*
was, in this way, as beautiful as the patriarchal *tent*.
The latter put them into due relationship to the world
around them, the former to the Lord God of heaven and
earth who was above them.

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were alike in all this.
There was, therefore, no new dispensational secret, no
fresh purpose of the divine counsels, revealed in Isaac,
as there had been in Abraham. [#]_ This is so. But
still, though there was no new dispensational scene
unfolded, there was a further unfolding of the glories
that attach to the dispensation or calling which had
been already made known in Abraham. And a very
important one too--such as, if we had divine affections,
we should deeply prize. I mean this: The heavenly
calling or strangership on earth was the *common*
thing; but characteristically, *election* was illustrated in
Abraham, and *sonship* or adoption in Isaac.

.. [#] See the paper on "Enoch," pp. 32-37, where certain dispensational
   purposes of God, in their differences, are considered.

God called Abraham from the world, from kindred,
country, and father's house, separating him to Himself
and to His promises. But Isaac was already as one
chosen and called and sanctified, while in the house of
his father. He was at home from his birth, and he
was there with God, having been born according to
promise, and through an energy that quickened the
dead; and in all these things he represented *sonship*,
as Abraham had represented *election*. In Isaac we
see that family that is "born not of blood, nor of the
will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God,"
and who stand in liberty; as the apostle says, "Now
we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of promise."
We are Abraham's seed, so many Isaacs, children of
the freewoman, or in the adoption, if we be Christ's.

Now this mystery of sonship or adoption represented
in Isaac, as the mystery of election had been
made known in Abraham, is in divine order. For *the
election of God is unto adoption*, as we read, "Having
predestinated us unto the adoption of children by
Jesus Christ unto Himself;" and this being so, this
high, personal prerogative being represented in Isaac, in
the course of his history we get the mystery of the son
of the freewoman very blessedly, largely exhibited.

For we get both the *birth* and the *weaning*. And
each of these events was the occasion of joy in the house
of the father. The child born was called "laughter,"
the child weaned was celebrated by a feast.

Wondrous and gracious secrets these are. It is the
father's joy to *have children*, it is his further joy that
his children should *know themselves to be children*.
This was the birth and the weaning of Isaac in the
Book of Genesis. And all this, after so long a time,
is revived in the Epistle to the Galatians. For what
was represented in Isaac is realized in us through the
Spirit. In that epistle we learn that we are children
by faith in Christ Jesus. And there we learn also
that, being children, we receive the spirit of children.
We are *weaned* as well as *born*. Paul travailed in
birth for them again, as he says: "My little
children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ
be formed in you." The Christ of this passage is
Christ *the Son*; and Paul longed and laboured that
they might be brought into the Isaac-state, the liberty
of conscious adoption. They were under temptation to
feed again upon the ordinances which gendered bondage,
and which the tutors and governors of an earlier dispensation
had enjoined. But opposed to this, the
apostle would draw them again into liberty, as he
himself had proved the virtue of it in his own soul.
It had pleased God, as he says, to reveal the Son in
him. The life he lived in the flesh he lived by the
faith of *the Son*, who loved him. He could, therefore,
go down to Arabia, where he had no flesh and blood
to confer with, no Jerusalem or city of solemnities, no
apostles or ordinances, no priesthood after a carnal
order, no worldly sanctuary, to countenance, to seal, or
to perfect him. He did not want what any or all
could give him, for he had *the Son revealed in him*.
He was a weaned Isaac; and he would fain have the
Galatians to be such likewise; and to hear the word
which of old had been heard in the house of Abraham
over Isaac, "Cast out the bondwoman and her son; for
the son of the bondwoman shall not be heir with the
son of the freewoman."

All this is given us, mystically, in Isaac, the child
of the freewoman, whose birth caused laughter, and
whose weaning was celebrated with a feast. And this
mystery is, we thus see, largely and expressly revived
and opened, in its full character, in the Epistle to the
Galatians.

It is not of *glories* only that we must be thinking,
when thinking of predestination. God's purposes
concerning us are still richer. We are predestinated
to a state of *gratified affections*, as well as to a place
of *displayed glories*--to "the adoption of children,"
and to be "before Him in love," as well as to the
inheritance of all things. Ephesians i. And the Spirit
already given is as surely in us the power to cry,
"Abba, Father," as He is the seal of the title of the
coming redemption.

We are apt to forget this. We think of calling and
of predestination, in connection with glory, rather
than in connection with love, and relationship, and
home, and a Father's house.

And yet it is relationship that will give even the
inheritance or the glory its richest joy. The youngest
child in the family has another kind of enjoyment of
the palace of the king, than the highest estate and
dignitary of his realm. The child is there *without
state*, for its title is in relationship--the lords of the
land may be there, but they are there as at court, by
title of their dignity or office. And the child's enjoyment
of the palace is not only, as I said, of *another*
kind, it is of a higher kind--it is personal and not
official--the palace is *a home* to it, and not merely
*the court of royalty*.

Now it is the son, the child at home, the child in
the privileges of relationship, that we get in Isaac.
It is such an one that he represents--this is what
Isaac, mystically, is. Isaac was kept at home, waited
on by the household, nourished and endowed; and
the wealth as well as the comfort of his father's
house was his; as we read, "And Abraham gave all
that he had unto Isaac. But unto the sons of the
concubines which Abraham had, Abraham gave gifts,
and sent them away from Isaac his son, while he yet
lived, eastward, unto the east country."

Mystically looked at, Isaac is thus before us, a son,
born of the free woman, born of promise, born of God,
as it is said, "I will come and Sarah shall have a son."
Isaac represents that adopted family who are made
"accepted in the Beloved," who have put on Christ,
who stand in His joy, and breathe His spirit.

We have, however, to consider him *morally* as well as
*mystically*; that is, in his *character*, as well as in his
*person*. The elements, however, are but few. There is
but little history connected with him. There are but
few incidents in his life, and but little disclosure of
character. And this is to our comfort. At times we
find among the elect of God very fine natural materials,
a noble bearing of soul, or a delicate, attractive form of
human virtue; and again, at other times, either poor, or
even very bad, human materials. And this becomes a
relief to our poor hearts. *Because* we find it (from a
better acquaintance with ourselves than with others)
easy to own the poor and wretched materials that go to
make up what we ourselves are; and then it is our
comfort (comfort of a certain sort) to find like samples
of nature in others of God's people.

Isaac was *wanting* in character. He was neither of
fine nor of bad natural materials. There was much in
him that, as we say, was amiable, and which, after a
human estimate, would have been attractive. But he
was wanting in character. The style of his education
may go far to account for this. He had been reared
tenderly. He had never been away from the side of his
mother, the child of whose old age he was--her only
child; and these habits had relaxed him, and kept a
naturally amiable temper in its common softness.
Quietness and retirement, the temper that rather submits
than resents, and this allied to the relaxing indulgence
of domestic, if not animal, life, appear in him. He was
blameless, we may quite assume, pious and strict in the
observance of relative duties, as a child and as a husband,
and would have engaged the good-will and good wishes
of his neighbours; but he was wanting in that energy
which would have made him a witness among them, at
least, beyond the separation which attended his circumcision,
his altar, and his tent. And such a life is always
a poor one. To his tent and his altar he was true, to
a common measure; but he pitched the one and raised
the other with too feeble a hand.

Isaac was forty years old when he received Rebecca
to wife. For twenty years they were childless; but
under this trial they behaved themselves even better
than Abraham and Sarah had done. Abraham and
Sarah had no child, and Sarah gave her bondmaid to
her husband. Isaac and Rebecca had no child; but
they entreated the Lord, and waited for His mercy.
This was a difference, and for a moment, the last are
first, and the first are last; and such moral variety do
we find among the people of God to this day. But the
two sets of children suggest different divine mysteries,
as the way of the parents of each thus afford different
moral teaching.

There were the two sons of Abraham--Isaac and
Ishmael; but they were by two wives: there are now
the two sons of Isaac--Jacob and Esau; but they are
by the same wife.

The enmity between the sons of Abraham began
when Ishmael, a lad of fourteen years of age, mocked
the weaned Isaac. But the struggle between the sons
of Isaac was in the womb. Two nations were there, as
the Lord had told Rebecca, "Two manner of people
shall be separated from thy bowels." And so it came
to pass. The man of God was found in Jacob, the
man of the world in Esau; the principle of *faith* was
in the one, the principle of *nature* in the other. Two
manner of people were indeed separated from her
bowels, and had struggled in her womb. "The friendship
of the world is enmity against God." And this
was Esau. Accordingly, Esau made the earth the
scene of his energies, of his enjoyments, and of his
expectations. He was "a man of the field," and "a
cunning hunter." He prospered in his generation.
He loved the field, and he knew how to use the field.
He set his heart on the present life, and knew how to
turn its capabilities to the account of his enjoyments.
His sons quickly became dukes, nay kings, and had
their cities; as Ishmael's children had become princes,
and had their castles. Their dignity and their greatness
proceeded from themselves; and the world witnessed
them in their magnificence.

But Jacob was "a plain man," a man of the tent.
He took after his fathers. Like Abraham and Isaac,
he was a stranger here, sojourning as on the surface
of the earth for a season, with his eye upon the
promise. His children--while Esau's were dukes,
settled in their domains, in the sunshine of their
dignities and wealth--had to wander from one nation
to another people, to suffer the hardships and wrongs
of injurious Egypt, or to traverse, as pilgrims, the
trackless, wasted desert.

Esau was the "profane" one. His hope and his
heart were linked with life in this world, and with
that only; for he would say, "I am at the point to
die, and what profit shall this birthright do to me?"
Like the Gadarenes, and like Judas, Esau would sell
his title to Christ. But Jacob had faith, and was
ready to buy what Esau was ready to sell.

Two manner of people were, after this manner,
separated from Rebecca's bowels, as all this tells us.
They are no sooner brought forth than this is seen;
and their earliest habits, their first activities, are
characteristic. It was not merely the bondwoman
and the free, or the children of the two covenants, as
Ishmael and Isaac had been; in Esau and Jacob we
get a *fuller* expression of the same natures; the one,
that reprobate thing, had from Adam, profane or
worldly, which takes a portion in the earth and not
in God; the other, that divine thing, had from Christ,
which is believing, hopeful, looking to God's provisions,
and waiting for the kingdom.

All this survives to the present day, and flourishes
abundantly in different samples in the midst of us, or
around us. I might say the Cain, the Nimrod, the
Ishmael, and the Esau are still abroad on the earth,
and these tales and illustrations have their lessons for
our souls. They are wonderful in their simplicity;
but they are too deep for the wisdom of the world,
and too pure for the love of it.

These things I have gathered for the sake of the
moral and the mystery which so abound in them.
But my immediate business is with Isaac.

.. vspace:: 2

Isaac, as I have already noticed, was brought up in
his mother's tent. He was, as I may say, rather the
child of his mother than of his father--the common
case of all of us in our earliest days. But with Isaac,
this was so till his mother died; and then he must
have been much beyond thirty years of age.

He knew more of Sarah's tent, than of the busier
haunts and occupations of men. Her tent had been
his *teacher*, as well as his *nurse*, and this education
left impressions on his character which were never
effaced. We have a passing or incidental, but still, a
very sure, witness of the strength of maternal influence
over him, in chap. xxiv. 67. "And Isaac brought her
[Rebecca] into his mother's tent, *and Isaac was comforted
after his mother's death*."

This strongly intimates the tendencies of his early
life. And thus was character formed in him. He was
the easy, gentle, unresisting Isaac, pious, as we speak,
and, as I have said of him, blameless and amicable.

But with all this, and while this I doubt not is
surely so, I ask, Was it merely nature or character
that bore him unresistingly along the road to Mount
Moriah? See chap. xxii. Was it merely filial piety
which then disposed him to be bound as a lamb for
the slaughter, without opening his mouth? Can we
assume this? Was this the force of character merely?
I say not so. This was too much for human gentleness
and submission, even such as might have been
found in an Isaac, or in a Jephthah's daughter. I must
rather say, the hand of the Lord was over him on that
occasion, just as, long afterwards, it was over the owner
of the ass that was needed to bear the King on to the
city, and then over the multitude that accompanied
and hailed Him on the road; or, as it was over the
man bearing the pitcher of water, who prepared the
guest-chamber for the last passover. On these occasions,
the hand of the Lord was strong to force the
material to comply, and take the impression of the
moment. As also in the earlier days of Samuel, when
the kine carried the ark of God right on the way
homeward, though nature resisted it, their young being
left behind them. For the divine power was upon the
kine then. And Isaac, in like manner, was under
divine power, under the hand of God, on this occasion;
willingly, I fully grant, but made willing as in a day
of power; for he was to be the type or foreshadowing
of a greater than he. The seal was in a strong hand,
and the impression must be taken, clear, deep, and
legible. "Lo, I come to do thy will, O God," is the
writing on the seal. "As a lamb before her shearers
is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth."

That was a great moment in the life of Isaac, an
occasion of great meaning. So in his acceptance of
Rebecca. See chap. xxiv. In his taking a wife, not
of all whom he chose, but of his father's providing,
we may trace the same strong hand over him. There
might easily have been more of human submissiveness
and filial piety in this, than in the case of the sacrifice
on Mount Moriah, we may surely allow; but still this
was a *sealing* time as well as the other. This marriage
was a type or mystery, as well as that sacrifice. The
wife brought home to the son and heir of the father,
by the servant who was in the full confidence and
secret of the father, this was a mystery; and the
material must comply again, and take the impression
from the hand that was using it. The potter was making
vessels for the use of the household, and the clay
must yield. The prophet's children, ages afterwards,
had names given them, as the Lord pleased, and the
prophet had to say of them, Behold, I and the children
whom the Lord hath given me are for signs and for
wonders. Isa. viii. And so, Isaac and Rebecca, in the
day and circumstances of their marriage, were a type,
"for a sign and a wonder." This was their chief
dignity; *they tell the mysteries of God*. They are
parables as well as mysteries. They were events set
in time or in the progress of the earth's history, as the
sun and moon and stars are set in the heavens, *for signs*.
Each of them has a writing on it under the hand of
God. "I will engrave the graving thereof, saith the
Lord of hosts;" for on these events He has impressed
the image of some of His everlasting counsels.

But though this gentle and submissive nature that
was in our Isaac was not equal to such sacrifices and
surrenders as these, yet gentle, submissive nature is
the quality which gives him his character. At times
it acts amiably and attractively; at times it sadly
betrays him. But at all times, under all circumstances,
amid the few incidents that are recorded of him, it is
the easy, gentle, yielding Isaac that we see. And the
presence of one and the same virtue on every occasion
is, I need not say, but poor in point of character. It
is *combination* that bespeaks character and divine
workmanship. "The kingdom of God is righteousness
and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost." It is firm as
well as gracious and joyous. And this is moral glory;
as many coloured rays give us the one unsullied result
in the light we enjoy and admire. But this does not
shine in Isaac. In none, surely, in its full beauty, save
in Him in whom all glories, in their different generations,
meet and shine.

Jeremiah, I might here take liberty to say, appears
to me to have been a man of one passion, as Isaac was
a man of one virtue. I mean, of course, characteristically
as to each of them, Isaac and Jeremiah. A
godly passion indeed it was, grief over the moral
wastes of Zion, which characterized Jeremiah. But
being thus his *one* affection, the passion or sentiment,
which, after this manner, possessed his soul, it makes
him generally very engaging and attractive to the
heart; but at times it allies his spirit with that which
defiles him. He is angry with the people who were
stirring the sorrows of his heart. And he murmurs
against God Himself. I speak, of course, of Jeremiah's
character, as we get it exhibited in his ministry.
I know, surely, in that ministry, looked at in itself, he
was the prophet of God and delivered the inspirations
of the Holy Ghost. But as a man I speak of him; as
a man, he was a man of one passion; as I have said of
Isaac that he was a man of one virtue. But it is those
in whom there is *assemblage* of virtues, that tell us
more assuredly of divine workmanship, of trees planted
by the rivers of waters, that bring forth fruit *in season*.
Psalm i. For it is this seasonableness that is the real
beauty. Everything is beautiful in its season, and
only then. Gentleness loses its beauty, when zeal and
indignation are called for. The first Psalm is too high
a description for a man of one virtue; it implies
character, and decision, and individuality; it shows a
soul drawing its virtue from God. "He shall be like a
tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth
its fruit in its season; his leaf also shall not wither; and
whatsoever he doeth shall prosper." This is of divine
husbandry; but such we do not see in our Isaac. In
his measure, and certainly in contrast with Isaac, this
combination or assemblage of virtues, of which I have
already spoken, appears in Abraham; and this difference
in the two may be seen in their acting under
similar circumstances. Abraham in chap. xxi. and Isaac
in this chapter xxvi. [#]_

.. [#] As to the common sin of Abraham and Isaac touching the denial
   of their wives, calling them their sisters, see "Abraham," p. 122.

Isaac had been very badly treated by the Philistines.
One well after another of his own digging
was violently taken away from him, as the wells
which his father had dug had been filled up. He had
yielded to this wrong with a gentle, gracious spirit, in
a spirit that well became one of God's strangers and
pilgrims here, who look for citizenship in another
world. He went from place to place, as the Philistines
again and again strove with him and urged him.
This was according to the mind which marks him, as
we said, in every incident of his life. Suffering, he
threatens not--doing well and suffering for it, he
takes it patiently; and this we know is acceptable
with God. 1 Peter ii. 20. And so God here attests
this; for He owns His servant in this thing, and
comes to him by night as He had comforted Abraham.
But when, in season, the Philistines are brought to a
better mind, and Abimelech the king, with his friend
Ahuzzath, and Phichol his chief captain, seek Isaac
and alliance with him, I ask, Does not his character,
in its way, betray him?

Of course it was right in Isaac to receive them,
and plight them his friendship, and to exchange the
good offices and pledges and securities of neighbourliness
which they sought. For we ought to forgive,
if it be seventy times seven a day. But with that
there is to be faithfulness in its season--faithfulness
as well as forgiveness. "If thy brother trespass against
thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him."
But Isaac was not quite up to this sturdier virtue.
He complains to Abimelech, but it is in such soft and
easy terms, that it seems to carry no authority to the
conscience with it. Not so his entering into covenant
with him. He strikes hands readily, and, I may say,
heartily. He makes a feast for the king of Gerar,
and sends him away as his ally, without his being
brought to any acknowledgment of the wrong which
his people had done to the man whose friendship he
was now seeking and getting. Nor is there on the
lips of Isaac any gainsaying of Abimelech's assertion,
that he had done nothing but good to Isaac all the
time he had been in his country. As far as this
intercourse went, and as far as we can discover the
mind of the king of Gerar, he was not convicted by
Isaac, but returned home with his friends at peace
with himself as well as with Isaac. Isaac had not
made good to Abimelech's conscience the complaint
he had made to his ear--there was want of character
and force in it--it partook of Isaac's own nature.

This was but poor virtue in Isaac. It is but poor
virtue in ourselves, when it appears--and some of us
have to treat it as such, and confess it as such, at times.
It is agreeable in a certain form of amiable human
nature; but it is not service to God. We are humbled
by reason of that in our own ways. It is poor, and
our Isaac here gives us, in measure at least, a sample
of this.

It was, however, otherwise with Abraham. The
king of Gerar had sought Abraham in his day, and
sought him for a like reason, and with a like desire.
Abraham meets him in as noble a spirit of forgiveness
as Isaac would have done, with an equal readiness of
heart and hand to accept him, and to pledge him. But
with all this, he rebukes him and makes him feel the
rebukes. "Abraham *reproved* Abimelech," as we read,
but as we do not read in the case of Isaac. Abraham
will not send him away satisfied with himself, as Isaac
did, with an unanswered boast in his mouth of his and
his people's virtues. He will assure him, as fully as
Isaac could have done, of his full forgiveness and
reconciliation; but he will not hide it from him, that
his conscience may have a question with him, though his
neighbour may accept him and pardon him; that there
are matters (as between him and the Lord) which
Abraham's feast and Abraham's friendship could never
settle.

This was *real*, real before God, where *reality*, beloved,
ever puts us. May we know that secret better, and be
upright before Him! This was beautiful--and by this
Abraham was *blessing* Abimelech, and not *merely
gratifying* him. But this was not so with Isaac; and
we may leave him on this occasion, in chap. xxvi., with
something of this inquiry in our hearts, Was it mere
nature, or the renewed mind in the saint, that acted
thus?--a question which still occurs.

Isaac was an elect one, as surely as Abraham; a
stranger with God in the earth; one who *used* his altar
as well as *carried* it. He was meditating in the field
when he got his Rebecca, and he had prayed for the
mercy, when Esau and Jacob were given to him. We
speak of *character* in him only, when we thus contrast
him with another. We speak of the living, practical
ways of a saint; and we see in him what was below a
witness for God abroad, though amiable and devout at
home. This is found in Isaac; and kindred things are
still found, again I may say, as many of us know to
our humbling. As one once said to me, "There is
much that goes with others for being *spiritual*, because
it is done for the eye and taste of our fellow-Christians,
and not, as in God's presence, with a single heart to
Him."

.. vspace:: 2

This indeed is true; and this searches our hearts to
their profit. Such notices of our common ways may
convict, but they need by no means dishearten us.
Quite otherwise; they may be welcomed as for blessing.
The light that penetrates to scatter our darkness,
leaves itself behind to gladden us, and has title to
assert the place as *all its own*--so that we ought to
be able, in spirit, to sing of *present light* and *past*
*darkness*, to know what we *were*, and what we *are*, and
still to sing--

   |
   |  "All that I was, my sin, my guilt,
   |    My death was all my own--
   |  All that I am I owe to Thee,
   |    My gracious God, alone.
   |
   |  "The evil of my former state
   |    Was mine and only mine--
   |  The good in which I now rejoice
   |    Is Thine and only Thine.
   |
   |  "The darkness of my former state,
   |    The bondage, all was mine--
   |  The light of life in which I walk,
   |    The liberty is Thine."
   |

This is standing, not attainment; this is what faith
entitles us to celebrate. Faith takes up this language,
and the soul surely hears it and understands it. But
*faith* is the spring, in the inworking power of the
Holy Ghost. As in Heb. xi., from beginning to end,
it is *faith* that is celebrated. Enoch, and Moses, and
David, and the prophets, and the martyrs of other days,
may be presented there in their fruits and victories,
but it is *faith*, and not the people of God, that the
Spirit by the apostle is celebrating in that fine chapter.

.. vspace:: 2

But I must return to Isaac.

At the close of chapter xxvi. we read: "And Esau
was forty years old when he took to wife Judith the
daughter of Beeri the Hittite, and Bashemath the
daughter of Elon the Hittite: which were a grief of
mind to Isaac and to Rebekah."

This has much for us in the way of admonition;
but to use it aright, I must look to things connected
with it, or like it, in the earlier history of Abraham,
and then in the future histories of Jacob and his son
Judah.

The command to the nation of Israel at the very
beginning was to keep the way of the Lord very particularly
as to *marriage*. They were by no means
either to give their daughters to the sons of the
Canaanites, or take the Canaanites' daughters for
their sons. Deut. vii. 3. If they did so, it would be
on the pain of being no longer owned of the Lord.
Josh. xxiii. According to this, the apostate days of
Solomon are marked by disobedience to this very
thing (1 Kings xi.); and afterwards, no real recovery
to God could be admitted, without a return to the
observance of this principle in their marriages. Ezra
x.; Neh. x.

Obedience, therefore, in this thing was a peculiar
test of the state of the nation. And it is thus that
I look at it in this earliest book of Genesis. For
though divine law was not then published, divine
principles were then understood. It may be regarded
as the witness of the state of *family* religion then, as
it was of the state of *national* religion afterwards.

Abraham, in this matter, eminently keeps "the way
of the Lord;" and so Eliezer, one of his "household;"
and so our Isaac, one of his "children." For Abraham
sends a special embassy into a distant land, in order
to get a wife "in the Lord" for his son--Eliezer
goes on that embassy with a ready mind--and Isaac
in patience waits for the fruit of it, not seeking any
alliance with the nearer people; and, though sad and
solitary, keeps himself for the Lord's appointed helpmeet.
Like Adam, he waited for a helpmeet from
the Lord's own hand, though it cost him patience and
sore solitude. This his meditation in the field at eventide
shows. He endured. He might have got a daughter
of Canaan; but he endured. He will rather suffer
the sickening of his heart from the deferring of his
hope, than not marry "in the Lord," or take him a wife
of any that he may choose. And all this was very
beautiful in this first generation of this elect family.
The father, the servant, and the child, each in his way,
witnesses how Abraham had ordered his house according
to God, teaching his children and his household the
way of the Lord. See chap. xviii. 19.

But we notice a course of sad decline and departure
from all this.

Isaac, in his turn and generation, becomes the head
of the family. But he is grievously careless in this
matter, compared with his father; as this scripture,
the close of chapter xxvi., shows us. He does not watch
over his children's ways, to anticipate mischief, as
Abraham had done. Esau his son marries a daughter
of the Hittites. Isaac and Rebecca are grieved at this,
it is true; for they had *righteous* souls which knew how
to be "vexed" with this; but then, it was their *carelessness*
which had brought this vexation upon them.

This we cannot say was beautiful. But still there
was a happy symptom in it. There was a righteous
soul to be vexed, a mind sensitive of defilement. And
this was well. Jacob, however, declines still further.
He neither anticipates the mischief, like Abraham,
nor does he, like Isaac, grieve over it when it occurs.
But with an unconcerned heart, as far as the history
tells us, he allows his children to form what alliances
they please, and to take them wives of all whom they
choose.

This is sad. There is no *joy* for the heart here, as
in the *obedience* of Abraham; there is no *relief* for
the heart here, as in the *sorrow* of Isaac and Rebecca.

But Judah afterwards goes beyond even all this in
a very fearful way. He represents the fourth generation
of this elect family. But he not only does not
anticipate mischief, like Abraham, in the ordering of
his family, nor grieve over mischief when brought
into it, like Isaac, nor is he simply indifferent about
it, whether it be brought in or not, like Jacob, but he
actually brings it in himself! For he does nothing
less than take a daughter of the Canaanites to be the
wife of his son Er!

This exceeded. This was sinning with a high hand.
And thus, in all this, in this history of the four generations
of Genesis-patriarchs, we notice declension,
gradual but solemn declension, till it reach complete
apostasy from the way of the Lord.

But if this be serious and sad, as it really is, is it
not profitable and seasonable? Can we not readily
own, that it is "written for our learning"? How does
it warn us of a tendency to decline from God's principles!
What took place in the same elect family,
generation after generation, may take place in the
same elect person, year after year. The principles of
God may be deserted by easy gradations. They may
first be *relaxed*, then *forgotten*, then *despised*. They
may pass from a *firm* hand into an *easy* one, from
thence to an *indifferent* one, and find themselves at
last flung away by a *rebellious* one. Many have at
first stood for God's principles in the face of difficulties
and fascinations, like Abraham--then, merely grieved
over the loss of them, like Isaac--then, been careless
about their loss or maintenance, like Jacob--and at
last, with a high hand, broken them, like Judah.

This is suggested by the scene at the close of chap.
xxvi. As we pursue the story of Isaac after this, we
shall find that his soft and pliant nature allies him not
only with weaknesses, but with defilement, with some of
the low indulgences of mere animal nature. I mean in
the closing action of his life, his blessing of Esau and
Jacob.

This is a solemn scene indeed, full of warning and
admonition.

Though Isaac had been grieved, as we have seen, by
the marriage of Esau with a daughter of the Hittites,
yet we learn immediately afterwards, that it is this very
same Esau that draws and holds the strongest affections
of his father's heart, to which that father would, if he
could, have sacrificed everything. And this was very
sad. It reminds me of Jehoshaphat. Jehoshaphat had
godly *sensibilities*, but he was wanting in godly *energies*.
Through vanity he sadly sinned; first joining in affinity
with Ahab, king of Israel, and then with Ahab going to
the battle. But still, he had sensibilities that were
spiritual and of divine workmanship. For in the midst
of the prophets of Baal, he was not at ease. He had a
witness within, that this would not do; and he asked,
"Is there not here a prophet of the Lord beside, that we
might inquire of him?" But still, and in spite of all
this, he went to Ramoth-Gilead to battle, and that, too,
in alliance with that very Ahab, who had thus so
painfully wounded the best affections of his soul, and
who, under his own eye, and as they sat on the throne
together, in the spirit of deep revolt from the God of
Israel, had consulted the prophets of Baal.

This was strange, as well as terrible; but this was
that king Jehoshaphat. And just after the same manner,
our Isaac on this occasion had his *sensibilities*, but not
his corresponding *energies*. With a godly mind he
grieved over Esau's marriage with a daughter of Heth;
and yet that very Esau, who thus wounded the witness
within him, was the one to attract and hold and order
the fondest sympathies of his heart, so as to hinder him
from freeing himself to act for God.

It was not through vanity, as it was in Jehoshaphat,
that Isaac thus sadly and strangely failed--it was rather,
from the common pravity of his character, such as we
have seen it to be, a general relaxed moral tone of soul.
But whether it be through this or that, he is ensnared,
I may say, by an earlier Ahab, though his soul had the
sense of that Ahab's apostasy. He would help Esau to
the blessing all he could, as Jehoshaphat would help the
king of Israel all he could to the victory at Ramoth-Gilead.

What sights are these! what lessons and warnings!

But we must inspect this family scene, this family
circle in chap. xxvii. a little more closely. There are
others beside Isaac to be looked at.

Abraham's servant in chap. xxiv. had brought two
different things with him out of the house of his
master, when he visited the house of Bethuel. He
brought a *report* of all that the Lord had done for
Abraham, and *gifts*.

These different things become tests of that household
in Mesopotamia. The report dealt with future
and distant things, and had God necessarily connected
with it--the gifts might have been independent of
Him, and were a present gain. Rebecca was moved
by the report. She takes the jewels, it is true; but
the tidings which the servant brought are chief with
her. The report of what awaited her among a distant
people whom the Lord had blessed had power to detach
her. It was not Isaac merely, or Abraham's wealth
merely. Her father had wealth, and she need not go
far to promise herself a home and its enjoyments. But
*the Lord* had blessed Abraham, and had now prospered
the journey of his servant. It was not a question
with Rebecca whether she would take Isaac and a
share in Abraham's wealth, or remain poor and lonely.
The question was this--Would she take the portion the
Lord was now bringing her, or that which her kindred
and circumstances in the world had provided her?

And so it is with us, beloved. It is not a question
between heaven and nothing, but between heaven and
the world, between our taking the happiness which
the Lord in His promises, or which human present
circumstances, have for us. Are we desirous of divine
joy and of heavenly riches? Can we say to the Lord
Jesus, Thou shalt "choose our inheritance for us?"
Is the distant land, of which we have received a
report, our object? This was Rebecca; she could
answer these questions. We should wrong her if we
judged that with her it was Abraham's wealth and
Isaac's hand or nothing. It was not so. As we said
before, and surely the story warrants it, she had large
expectations of every kind, if she remained at home.
She need not take a long, untried journey with a
stranger and to a strange people. But all became
nothing to her, when in faith she received the report.
She comes forth at the call of God.

Rebecca was a genuine daughter of Abraham. Abraham 
had crossed the desert at the call of the God of
glory, and Rebecca now crosses the same desert at
the report of what the God of glory had done for
Abraham. They had the like "spirit of faith." The
stronger expression of it we may find in Abraham,
but it was the like "spirit of faith." Abraham had
gone forth in the faith of an unattested call; Rebecca
now goes forth on an accredited report. There was
no Eshcol brought out of Canaan to Ur to embolden
Abraham to take the journey; but "this is the fruit
of it" was said to Rebecca in the servants and camels
and gold and jewels--a branch with a cluster rich and
abundant indeed. The report is now sealed to Rebecca,
as it had not been to Abraham. Abraham tried an
untried path; Rebecca did but walk in the footsteps
of the flock. But they were on the same road, and
reached the same place.

This is simple and beautiful in Rebecca, and the way
of faith to this hour. But, beloved, there is more, and
that, too, of another kind. Rebecca's *character* had been
already formed--as, I may say, it is with all of us,
before we are quickened of God. The moment of His
power arrives--we are made alive with divine life then--the
separating call is also answered; but it finds us
of a certain character, a certain shape and complexion of
mind. It finds us, it may be, Cretans (Titus i.), or brothers
and sisters of Laban, or something that wears the strong
stamp of a peculiar pravity of nature. And then character
and mind, derived from nature or from family
or from education and the like, we take with us after we
have been born of the Spirit, and carry it in us across
the desert from Padan-aram to the house of Abraham.

This is serious. It is serious, that with the quickening
of the Spirit, nature or the force of early habits
and education, or of family character, will cling to us
still. "The Cretans are always liars."

Laban, with whom Rebecca had grown up, was a
crafty, knowing, worldly man. It is plain that, on the
occasion of Eliezer's visit, he had been moved only by
the *gifts*. They made a ready way for Abraham's
servant; as we read, A man's gift maketh room for
him. Proverbs xviii. 16. Laban was evidently the
stirring, active, important one in his father Bethuel's
house. He had a taste for occasions which called for
management. And all this is a very bad symptom.
It is a bad symptom when one carries the bag. It is
bad to find one prematurely managing and clever, or,
at any period, fond of occasions where skill of that
kind is to be exercised, having an aptness in conducting
either state affairs or family interests. And just
such an one was Laban; and Laban was the brother
of Rebecca; and Rebecca had passed all her life, till
her marriage, with him; and the family character, in
this only great action in which she is called to take a
part, sadly betrays itself.

If Abraham and Sarah had brought the foul, unclean
compact between them, as they left their father's
house to walk with God, so did Rebecca bring this
family character, this Laban-leaven, with her. We
have *nature* in its pravity with us after our conversion;
and we have our own *fleshly characteristics*
also, as well as the common pravity of nature. And
we have to rebuke them sharply, that we may be
sound, that is, morally healthful, in the faith. Tit. i. 13.
And this lesson is afresh pressed upon us, from the
story of this distinguished woman in this chapter.

But there is more of the same kind. Jacob, as well
as his mother, Rebecca, got his mind formed by this
same earliest influence. He was all his days--I mean,
all his practical, active days--a slow-hearted, calculating
man; and in this family scene, in chap. xxvii., we find
him to be such an one--a ready, intelligent pupil of
his mother, Laban's sister, and whose favourite child he
had been from his birth. So that as Laban had been
corrupting his sister Rebecca, Rebecca had been corrupting
her son Jacob.

And further still, as this same chapter tells us,
Isaac, whose mind and character, as we have seen, had
been so remarkably formed by his early life in Sarah's
tent, had sunk into the indulgence of some of the low
desires of nature. He loved his son Esau, because he
ate of his venison. This was poor indeed, and something
worse than poor. And this love of venison, we
may surely suggest, must have encouraged Esau in
the chase; just as Rebecca's cleverness, got and
brought from her brother's house in Padan, formed
the mind and character of her favourite Jacob. And
thus one parent was helping to corrupt one of the
children, and the other the other.

What mischief, what sad defilement, is disclosed
here, in all this family scene! But we may go on to
expose it even more; for the heart is not only capable
of such defilement, but it is daring enough, at times,
to take its naughtiness *into the sanctuary*. "I was
almost in all evil in the *midst of the congregation and
assembly*." Proverbs v.

The word to Aaron, long after this, was, Do not
drink wine nor strong drink, thou, nor thy son with
thee, when ye go into the tabernacle of the congregation.
Lev. x. Nature is not to be animated in order
to wait on the service of God; it is not to be set in
action by its provisions, for the discharge of the duties
of the sanctuary. Strong drink may exhilarate, and
give ebullition to animal spirits, but this is no qualification
for a priest of the house of God.

But even into pollution such as this Isaac seems to
have been betrayed. "Take, I pray thee," says he to
Esau, "thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and go
to the field, and take me some venison: and make me
savoury meat, such as I love, and bring it to me, that
I may eat; that my soul may bless thee before I die."
He was going to do the last religious act of a patriarchal
priest, and he calls as for wine and strong
drink, the food of mere animal life, to raise and endow
him for the service!

This was sad indeed, thus to deliberate on the venison
at such a moment. We may all be conscious how
much of nature soils our holy things, how much of the
mere animation of the flesh may be mistaken for the
easy and strong current of the Spirit. We may be
aware of this, in the place of communion. And this is
to be our sorrow and our humbling--we are to confess
it as evil, or at least as weakness, and to watch
against it. But to prepare for it, carefully to mix
the wine and strong drink, to take a full draught, after
this manner, this exceeds in defilement.

And nothing comes of all this but dishonour and
loss. The whole of this family pollution is judged
in the holiness of God, because this was a family of
God in the earth. "You only have I known of all
the families of the earth, therefore I will punish you
for all your iniquities." Isaac is laid aside, Rebecca
never sees Jacob again, and the calculating supplanter
finds himself in the midst of toils and wrongs and
hardships, supplanted and deceived himself again and
again; for twenty long years an alien from the house
of his father. Nothing comes of all this, whether we
look at the crooked policy of the one party, or at the
fleshly favouritism of the other; all is disappointment
and shame, under the rebuke of the holiness of the
Lord.

There is, however, one relief, and it is a very important
one, in the midst of this otherwise foul and
gloomy scene. "By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and
Esau concerning things to come." This is the Holy
Ghost's own reference to this chapter in Hebrews xi.

But ere I speak of the relief or comfort which
this has for us when thinking of Isaac, I take occasion
to inquire, What was the nature or character of this
blessing by the patriarchs upon their children, which
we find again and again in the Book of Genesis?

A blessing was in the hand of Melchizedek in chap.
xiv.; as again, long after, there was a blessing in the
hand of Aaron in Num. vi. These instances we may
easily understand--these blessings were conferred or
pronounced by reason of *office*. They were delivered
through priesthood ordained of God. There was
nothing prophetic or oracular in them. The words
which these priests used were rather *prepared* than
*inspired*; words already prescribed by divine provision,
rather than communicated at the moment by divine
illumination, at least in the case of Aaron.

With the patriarchal blessing, however, it was as
clearly otherwise. There was a prophecy or an oracle
in Isaac's words on Esau and Jacob here in chap. xxvii.;
and so was there afterwards in Jacob's words on his
children in chap. xlix., and in his words on Joseph's
children in chap. xlviii.; and so was there before, in
Noah's words, in chap. ix., on Shem, Ham, and Japheth.

But why, I inquire, was this great matter thus committed
to the patriarchs?

If I mistake not, some of the secrets of patriarchal
religion, patriarchal worship and ministry, are involved
in the answer to this. Religion had, in these earliest
days, the same great truths which it still has for
its spirit and principle. The Fall and Recovery of
man, or Ruin and Redemption, were then made
known, and they were received by faith. The altars
of the fathers, and the ordinance of clean and unclean,
tell us of faith and of the apprehensions of
faith in those days. The tent of the living patriarchs,
and the Machpelah of the departed patriarchs, tell
us that they understood the stranger's calling, and
a coming resurrection; and Abraham's grove at Beersheba
(chap. xxi.), and his alliance with the Gentile
at the well of the oath, tell us likewise, in clear though
symbolic language, that they understood some of the
bright and happy secrets of the millennial age, or of
"the world to come."

And worship and ministry, in those infant days, were
in their simplest forms. I may say, *nature* suggested
that the father or head of the house should be the
prophet, priest, and king, there. In after times, when
the condition of things spread out, and when, with enlargement
and age, corruption came in, *the holiness of
God* demanded a separated or circumcised people; and,
connected with such, a separated or anointed priesthood.
Now, in our day, in the day of the kingdom
of God, which is, as we know, "not in word, but in
power," it is required that ministry should be something
more than nature would suggest, or than holiness
would demand; there must be *power*, such as the Spirit
Himself prepares and imparts. But in the early days
of Genesis, those *family* days--those infant, earliest
days--the voice of *nature* was listened to, and duly and
seasonably so; and accordingly, the head of the family
was the minister of God to the family, and both the
dignities and the services of prophets, priests, and
kings, within the range of the homestead, or in the
family temple, centred in the father.

The blessing of the children seems to flow from this.
It was an act performed in the combined virtues of a
prophet and a priest, which, as we see, the fathers of the
families carried in their own persons. They received a
communication of the divine mind, and then uttered it,
as "oracles of God;" and, being separated or priestly
representatives of God to their children, they pronounced
His blessing, God's blessing, upon them.

They seem to sustain this character through the Book
of Genesis.

In our Isaac it is sad indeed to see how this character
was exercised, or rather abused--as such like high
endowments have constantly been, the priestly dignity,
for instance, in the person of Eli (godly old man as he
was), and the kingly authority, in one tremendous
instance, even by such an one as the deeply-loved and
honoured son of Jesse.

So Isaac would have made his office serve, not only
his private partialities, but his very appetites. And this,
too, in the face of solemn, divine warning. The word
had gone before, upon Isaac's children (Esau the elder
and Jacob the younger), "the elder shall serve the
younger." But Isaac's fleshly favouritism and appetites
had made him careless and forgetful of this, and he would
fain have made the elder, Esau, the heir of the promise.

And here we may call to mind, that Caiaphas, in his
day, was such an one as Isaac, combining the prophet
and the priest in his own person. And Caiaphas would
fain have abused his office and his gift to his own
wretched purposes and desires. He delivered a true
prophecy with a design on the life of the Lord Jesus.
John xi. And in earlier days, the prophet Balaam was
of the same generation. He sought, all he could, to use
his gift in the service of his lusts. God, however, took
him out of his own hand, and forced his lips to utter the
sentence of righteousness, the judgment of truth. And,
though it be sad to put such men together, even in a
single action, yet so it is; for such was Isaac in Gen. xxvii.
Though a sanctified and filled vessel, he would have
served the wish of his own fond heart, in the use of the
treasure which he carried; but God took him out of his
own hand, and used him as the oracle of His settled,
sovereign purpose. Again I say, it is sad thus to link
such men as Isaac and Balaam in a common moral action.
But we know that "that which is born of the flesh is
flesh." As an old writer says, "The water that is foul in
the well will not be clean in the bucket." The flesh in
an Isaac is as the flesh in a Balaam; and the world in
the heart of each of them is the same world.

But they are not one *to the end*. This is the comfort,
the gracious comfort, of which I spoke before.
Balaam is Balaam still, the man who loved the wages
of unrighteousness, and ran greedily after his own
error for reward; he goes on as Balaam, giving counsel
to Balak to cast a stumbling-block before the people
of God; and at last he fell, as Balaam, with the uncircumcised,
slain with the sword, like those that go
down to the pit. But Isaac repented with godly
sorrow unto a repentance not to be repented of.
When his eye is opened, and he discovers what he
had been about, and how Jacob had got the blessing
which he had prepared for Esau--when it thus confronts
him to the face, that he had been withstanding
God, but that he could not prevail, his soul seems to
awaken as from sleep, and to get alive to all this, for
we read of him, that he trembled with a great trembling
greatly. v. 33. The sight, the moral sense, of the
place that he was filling, startles his soul. He trembles
in himself. The flesh which he had been nourishing
could not stand him in such a moment--and he seeks
it not--it has been exposed to him; and in the light
and energy of the better life, he acts according to faith,
and says, speaking now of Jacob, and no longer of
Esau, "I have blessed him, yea, and he shall be blessed."

There was nothing of this in Balaam; Balaam was
not turned back. When the angel withstood him in
the narrow way, and his ass fell under him, there was
none of this godly sorrow working repentance. But
our Isaac is restored. He seeks another way, and takes
up and follows after God's object from that moment.
It is not "the *madness* of the prophet" that the Spirit
records in Isaac, as He had to do in Balaam, but the
*faith* of the prophet. For in this hour of happy
restored fellowship with the mind of God, after his
trembling, "with a great trembling greatly," the way
of Isaac is sealed and signalized by the Spirit. "By
faith Isaac blessed Esau and Jacob concerning things
to come." And this is the only matter in the life of
Isaac which is noticed by the Spirit in that chapter,
Heb. xi.

But this had character in it, and the Spirit has distinguished
it. The victories of faith which Moses
gained were very fine. He answered both the *attractions*
and the *terrors* of Egypt; refusing to be called
the son of the king's daughter, and forsaking the
country, not fearing the king's wrath. These were
splendid victories; and are so to this day, when
achieved in the saint. But there are conquests much
less distinguished, which nevertheless are conquests,
recorded in this chapter which celebrates the deeds
of faith. They may be seen in Isaac and in Jacob.
Each of these witnesses of faith, in his day, blessed
the children or the sons before him *according to God*,
though this was *contrary to nature*. Isaac would
have preferred Esau, and Jacob would have preferred
Manasseh; but Isaac persisted in his blessing of Jacob,
and Jacob in his blessing of Ephraim, and in this,
*nature* was conquered. It was not, we may allow,
the *world*, in either its snares or its dangers, that stood
out to try the strength of faith in the saint--but still
it was an opposer. It was *nature*; the suggestions or
sympathies or partialities of nature--and while we may
admire the splendour of the victories of a Moses or an
Abraham, let us remember and look to it, that we fight
the fight of faith with *nature*, and gain the day in that
field, with Isaac and Jacob.

As to Jacob's part in this family scene which we are
looking at, we may certainly say, had he but left his
matters in the Lord's hand, where they had been from
the beginning, from before his birth, and not allowed
his mother to take them into hers, he would have
fared far better. How often has many and many a
Jacob since the days of Gen. xxvii. proved the same!
The Lord had promised him the blessing without any
condition. "The elder shall serve the younger." But
he could not, in the patience of faith, wait the Lord's
time and method to make good His own promise.
Therefore the promise gets laden with reserves and
difficulties and burthens. It shall surely be made
good. The promise of the Lord is certain, and "never
was forfeited yet." He is able to make it stand. The
elder shall serve the younger--but now, by reason of
Jacob's own unbelief and policy, the elder shall give
the younger some trouble: because the younger thinks
well to deal with the promise in his own craft and
skill, he shall be made to reach it after delay and
sorrow and shame.

Accordingly, Esau himself gets a promise from the
Lord, through his father Isaac, on this occasion, a
promise which the divine purpose and grace towards
Jacob, at the first, had never contemplated. "And
Isaac his father answered and said unto him, Behold,
thy dwelling shall be the fatness of the earth, and of
the dew of heaven from above; and by thy sword shalt
thou live, and shalt serve thy brother; and it shall
come to pass when thou shalt have the dominion, thou
shalt break his yoke from off thy neck." *vv.* 39, 40.

All this comes to pass. David, who came of Jacob,
sets garrisons in Edom, and the Edomites become his
servants and bring gifts. Jehoram, who also comes of
Jacob, afterwards loses the Edomites as his servants
and tributaries; they revolt, and continue so to this
day. 2 Sam. viii. 14; 2 Chron. xxi. 8.

Saviours by-and-by shall come to Zion and judge
the mount of Esau. Obadiah 21. The tabernacle of
David which is now fallen shall be raised up, and
Israel shall possess Edom and the residue of the Gentiles.
Amos ix. This shall be made good in its season,
for the elder shall serve the younger--the promise is
yea and amen. But now, and from the days of Jehoram
the son of Jehoshaphat of the house of David of
the lineage of Jacob, Esau or Edom has been in revolt;
and the promise is thus delayed and complicated and
burthened in ways such as the grace of God and the
gift by grace had never designed, and such as Jacob
had never passed through, had his faith been more
simple.

And there is much like this in Christian experience.
See the disciples on the sea of Galilee, in Mark iv.
The Lord had said to them, "Let us go unto the
other side." This was a pledge to them that they
were sure to reach the other side. They need not fear.
They may, if they please, lay them down to sleep with
their Master. But no--they fear, and consult with
flesh and blood. And therefore they reach the other
side with tremblings and amazement and shame. Their
fears loaded their spirit with these burdens, which, had
they left the *fulfilling* of the word to Him who had
*given* the word, would have been saved them. And so,
the unbelief of Jacob in Gen. xxvii., his putting the
promise of God into his mother's hand, has loaded the
history of his house with those perplexities and contradictions
and changes, which, as we have mentioned,
were all strangers to the promise, as the simple gift of
grace, at the beginning, had purposed it and made it.

Many like experiences the disciples had, through
their unbelief, as they companied with the Lord Jesus
all the time He went in and out among them--and
many such are known to us His saints at this day.
Our spirits gather amazement and shame, when we
might have known only the calm and bright enjoyments
of faith, looking, if it were so, at a sleeping
Jesus, and knowing His sufficiency for all promises,
though winds and waves oppose.

Thus was it with Jacob, according to the part he
acted in this sad family scene. Esau was not the
*guilty* one here. He was rather the *injured* party;
and therefore, in the hand of Him by whom "actions
are weighed," Esau is the only one who is a gainer.
All the rest have to learn what the way of their
own hearts shall end in. Isaac, Rebecca, and Jacob
alike prove this. It is Esau, so far the injured one,
who gains, as we have seen, anything by it all. By
his sword he lives, and, in time and for a time, breaks
the yoke of his younger brother off his neck. [#]_

.. [#] Jeroboam in his day took his own way to reach the promise of
   God touching the kingdom of the ten tribes, by the prophet Ahijah--and
   he delayed his own mercy; just as Jacob does in this chapter.
   Nay, further. Jeroboam has to be an exile in Egypt till the death of
   Solomon, because of this; as Jacob has for twenty years to be an
   exile in Padan, for the same evil. See 1 Kings xi.

.. vspace:: 2

After all this, just at the end of his ways, though
not of his days, at the desire of the suspicious and
terrified Rebecca, Isaac sends away Jacob. And this
action is done with an expression of sorrow and shame
and disappointment, the bitter fruit which their own
way had prepared for them. All would have been
different indeed, had the spirit and obedience of faith
kept them in the way of the Lord. xxvii. 42; xxviii. 5.

And here we reach, as we said, the end, the practical
end, of the life of our patriarch. He lives, it is true,
for forty years after this; it may be more--but he is
lost to us. He is as if he were not.

At the close of chapter xxxv. we read, "And Jacob
came unto Isaac his father unto Mamre, unto the city
of Arbah, which is Hebron, where Abraham and Isaac
sojourned. And the days of Isaac were an hundred
and fourscore years. And Isaac gave up the ghost, and
died, and was gathered unto his people, old and full of
days: and his sons Esau and Jacob buried him."

Abraham had carefully possessed himself of Machpelah,
on the occasion of Sarah's death; and there he had
buried Sarah, and there Isaac and Ishmael had buried
him; and there, at this time, Jacob and Esau bury Isaac;
and there afterwards his twelve sons bury Jacob.

The purchase of this parcel of ground, and the care
the patriarchs manifested in the matter of their burial
there, tell us of their faith in their own happy resurrection
and its attendant inheritance of the land. It
tells us that *hope* was in their souls as surely as *faith*--that
as they rested, without a doubt, in the certainty
of their call and adoption, so did they, with
like assurance, in the life and inheritance prepared
for them in the world to come. They lived in faith,
and they died in faith. They were a people in whose
souls the life of faith and hope was known and enjoyed.
They betray nature again and again; they
err, they shift and contrive and play false with God
at times through unbelief; they incur discipline and
rebuke, and at times are humbled before men; but
they seem never to doubt the blessed facts, that they
were *adopted* and *endowed* by the God of glory. Faith
and hope lived in their souls. I say not that they
had what we have. There is now an unction, an earnest,
and a witness, fruit of the given, indwelling Spirit,
imparting not only the power but the character of this
day of ours. But the patriarchs, in their infant age,
seem *never to doubt*. And this is precious--that God,
even in the earliest communications of Himself--communications
of Himself to His elect even in their
childhood, or, in the infant days of Genesis--would
be known by them as One to be trusted both for the
present and the future.

And again I say, this is precious. The Spirit forms
*hope* in the soul of the elect, as surely as faith. Machpelah
tells us this, as to the patriarchs. But it was
found before them, and it has been found ever since.
Adam was a hoping as well as a believing man. As
soon as he had faith, he had hope. He walked as a
*stranger* on earth, as well as in *the consciousness of life*.
And with him, and like him, the antediluvian saints.

Israel afterwards celebrated the last night of their
sojourn in Egypt with the staff in their hand and the
shoe on their foot, as simply and as surely as they
had put the blood on the lintel. They hoped for
something beyond Egypt, as certainly as they counted
on security in Egypt.

Moses witnessed this standing of Israel, this proper
standing in the camp of God in the power of faith
and hope, when afterwards he said to Hobab, "We
are journeying to a place of which the Lord said,
I will give it you." And so Paul, in his words before
King Agrippa, "Unto which promise our twelve tribes
instantly serving God day and night hope to come."

The oil in the vessels of the wise virgins is the
expression of the power of hope. They provided
against His delay for whose return alone they looked
and waited, be that return far off or nigh.

And to give hope its highest, brightest moral glory,
we are given to know, that the present heaven of
Jesus is a heaven of hope. Though seated at the
right hand of the Majesty on high, He is, we know,
"expecting till His enemies be made His footstool."
And the mind of the glorified Church will, by-and-by,
be kindred with this mind of her glorified Lord;
for the heaven of Rev. v. is also a heaven of hope.
"Thou art worthy," say the living creatures and
enthroned elders of that heaven, "to take the book,
and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and
hast redeemed to God by thy blood out of every
kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and
hast made them unto our God kings and priests: and
they shall reign over the earth."

In this life of faith and hope, the fathers of the Book
of Genesis are seen to be one. Happy to know this.
They illustrate different mysteries, and read us different
moral lessons; but in this life of faith and hope they
are *one*; and each in his day, Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, is alike gathered to his people (chaps. xxv., xxxv.,
xlix.)--each is "a handful of sacred dust" in the cave
in the field of Ephron the Hittite, laid up there in sure
and certain hope of a resurrection unto life and to the
inheritance.

.. vspace:: 2

There is a common saying, "It is better to wear out
than to rust out." But this better thing was not
Isaac's. He rusts out. And *such* was the natural
close of *such* a life.

Was Isaac, I ask, a vessel marred on the wheel?
Was he a vessel laid aside as not fit for the Master's
use? or at least not fit for it any longer? His history
seems to tell us this. Abraham had not been such an
one. All the distinguishing features of "the stranger
here," all the proper fruits of that energy that quickened
him at the outset, were borne in him and by him to the
very end. We have looked at this already in the walk
of Abraham. (See pp. 134-137.) Abraham's leaf did not
wither. He brought forth fruit in old age. So was it
with Moses, with David, and with Paul. They die
with their harness on, at the plough or in the battle.
Mistakes and more than mistakes they made by the
way, or in their cause, or at their work; but they are
never laid aside. Moses is counselling the camp near
the banks of the Jordan; David is ordering the
conditions of the kingdom, and putting it (in its beauty
and strength) into the hand of Solomon; Paul has his
armour on, his loins girded. When, as I may say, the
time of their departure was at hand, the Master, as we
read in Luke xii., found them "so doing," as servants
should be found. But thus was it not with Isaac.
Isaac is laid aside. For forty long years we know
nothing of him; he had been, as it were, decaying
away and wasting. The vessel was rusting till it
rusted out.

There surely is meaning in all this, meaning for our
admonition.

And yet--such is the fruitfulness and instruction of
the testimonies of God--there are others, in Scripture,
of other generations, who have still more solemn lessons
and warnings for us. It is humbling to be *laid aside*
as no longer fit for use; but it is sad to be left merely
to *recover ourselves*, and it is terrible to remain to *defile
ourselves*. And illustrations of all this moral variety
we get in the testimonies of God. *Jacob*, in his closing
days in Egypt, is not as a vessel laid aside, but he is
there recovering himself. I know there are some truly
precious things connected with him during those seventeen
years that he spent in that land, and we could not
spare the lesson which the Spirit reads to us out of the
life of Jacob in Egypt. But still, the moral of it is
this--a saint, who had been under holy discipline,
recovering himself, and yielding fruit meet for recovery.
And when we think of it a little, that is but a poor
thing. But *Solomon* is a still worse case. He lives to
defile himself; sad and terrible to tell it. This was
neither Isaac nor Jacob--it was not a saint simply laid
aside, nor a saint left to recover himself. Isaac was,
in the great moral sense, blameless to the end, and
Jacob's last days were his best days; but of Solomon
we read, "It came to pass, *when Solomon was old*, that
his wives turned away his heart after other gods," and
this has made the writing over his name, the tablet to
his memory, equivocal, and hard to be deciphered to
this day.

Such lessons do Isaac and Jacob and Solomon, in
these ways, read for us, beloved--such are the minute
and various instructions left for our souls in the fruitful
and living pages of the oracles of God. They give
us to see, in the house of God, vessels fit for use and
kept in use even to the end--vessels laid aside, to rust
out rather than to wear out--vessels whose best service
it is to get themselves clean again--and vessels whose
dishonour it is, at the end of their service, to contract
some fresh defilement.

Wondrous and various the lessons and the ways
of grace, abounding grace! Quickly indeed does the
soul entertain thoughts of God according to the suggestions
of *nature*, instead of knowing Him according to
*faith*. Nature holds Him before the soul as a judge,
or as a lawgiver, or an exactor of righteousness, as One
that carries balances in His hand to try every thought
and work--One that is sensitive and resentful of the
slightest touch of evil. But faith holds Him before a
gazing, worshipping eye and heart, as the One who
always loves us, do what He may, or speak as He will.
For faith worketh by love (Gal. v. 6)--it worketh
towards God as Love, and therefore it is a spirit of
confidence and liberty. If we find our souls under
pressure of the spirit of fear or bondage or uncertainty,
we may be sure that they have let go the gentle
hand of faith, and allowed themselves to be led by
such tutors and governors as nature provides. This
ought not so to be. We are to know that we have
*ever* to do with *love*! When we read, when we pray,
when we converse, when we confess, when we serve,
when we sing, when we look at His hand in providence,
or think of His name in secret, may faith's
communion with God be ours! He loves us. The
relationship in which we stand, and of which our
Isaac was the expression, makes this a *necessary* truth.

It is "to Himself" that God has brought us and
adopted us--having predestinated us unto the adoption
of children by Jesus Christ *to Himself*, according
to the good pleasure of His will. Eph. i. 5. And
these words "to Himself" bespeak God's own joy in
the *adoption* of the elect, in making them *children*;
as was Abraham's joy at the weaning of our Isaac.
Christ presents the Church to *Himself* (Eph. v. 27), and
the Father gathers the elect as children by adoption
to *Himself*. Each has personal interest and personal
delight in the mysteries of grace. And according to
this, the Holy Ghost, in the Epistle to the Galatians,
to which the story of Isaac so refers, pleads the cause
of the Father as well as the cause of Christ with us. He
teaches us that we are redeemed by Christ from the
*curse* of the law, and, through the Spirit given to us
by the Father, from the *bondage* of the law. All this
is full of blessing to us; and all this, the mystery of
Isaac, the son of the free-woman, suggests to us.

Faith is that principle in us which gives to the Lord
Jesus the place or privilege (such a place indeed as
God alone can fill) of sustaining the confidence of a
sinner entirely by Himself, of being the immediate, the
only object of the sinner's trust. But faith, in this
dispensation, involves *relationship*. By faith we stand
in the Person as well as *on* the work of Christ--and
Christ being the Son, we are children, as we are saved
sinners. We are all the children of God by faith in
Christ Jesus. Gal. iii. 26. And Ishmael is not to share
the house with Isaac. The spirit of bondage gendered
by the law or by the religion of ordinances, is to be
put out, and the spirit of liberty alone is to fill it. For the
house is now set in a child and not in a servant, in
Isaac and not in Eliezer--and *relationship* is God's joy
as it is ours. "The *Father seeketh* such to worship
Him." Wondrous words of abounding grace, beloved!
and Sarah's joy in our Isaac pledged this in patriarchal
days.

.. vspace:: 4

.. class:: center large

   _`JACOB`.

.. class:: center medium

GENESIS XXVIII.-XXXVI.

.. vspace:: 2

I have already followed the course of the Book of
Genesis to the close of chapter xxvii. From that
chapter to chapter xxxvi., Jacob is principal; and it is
that portion which I now purpose to consider.

There is a very important era in the life of Jacob
afterwards--his sojourn in Egypt for seventeen years,
and his death there. But this is found in that part of
the book in which Joseph becomes principal, so that I
shall refer to it only so far as Jacob is concerned.

.. vspace:: 2

The life of Jacob is one of very large and varied
action, quite of another character from that of his
father Isaac. The wisdom of God readily accounts
for this; because there is divine intention in the construction
of these histories, as there is divine truthfulness
in the record of them. By them we are
instructed in mysteries, as surely as we are made
acquainted with circumstances. It has been my
desire to notice these mysteries, as well as to gather
the moral of these earliest ages of the human family,
and these first fathers of the elect of God.

*Election*, and the call of God, in the sovereign exercise
of His grace, were exhibited in Abraham.

*Sonship*, to which election brings us, (for we are
predestinated unto the adoption of children,) was then
shown in Isaac.

*Discipline*, as of a son, (for what son is he whom the
father chasteneth not?) is now, in its season, to be
exhibited in Jacob.

And thus, after this manner, these successive histories
not only continue the orderly narrative of facts, but
present us with a view of that course or conduct which
the grace and wisdom of God is taking with His people.

.. vspace:: 2

Jacob was a son as well as Isaac. But he was a
son at school, or under correction; not a son, like
Isaac, in the care and nurture of the home of his
father; not as one given to know the rights and
dignities of son and heir, but as one made to know the
love, the practical love, that chastens and corrects.
This was the child Jacob. But we are never to forget
that we are never more distinctly children than when
under such discipline. Discipline assumes adoption.
The exhortation or correction speaks to us as *to children*.
The discipline may occupy the foreground, but
the fatherly love is the secret.

But this notice of Jacob as a son under discipline
I give here only as a general characteristic. As to the
materials of his history, various and striking as they
are, we may distinguish them into four eras:

1. His birth and early life in his father's house in
the land of Canaan.

2. His journey to Padan-aram, and his residence
there, in the house of Laban the Syrian, for
twenty years.

3. His journey back from Padan-aram, and his second
residence in Canaan.

4. His journey from Canaan to Egypt, and his residence
and death there.

This may be read as a simple, natural table of contents,
so to call it, and I would follow it out in its
order.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part I.`--This earliest portion of Jacob's history, his
birth, and his life in the house of his father in the land
of Canaan till he was about seventy years of age, [#]_ I
have generally anticipated in the preceding paper,
entitled "Isaac." And I may be allowed to say,
necessarily so; because it is involved in those chapters
of the Book of Genesis, where Isaac is principal. I
must therefore refer to it.

.. [#] It is said in the Jewish writings that he was seventy-seven.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part II.`--Jacob begins to be seen under discipline
in chap. xxviii., and there it is where this second part
of his history opens, and where also, in the Book of
Genesis, he becomes the chief or leading character.

In his journey out towards Padan, but ere he left the
borders of Canaan, at the place called Luz, the Lord
meets him. This was not his father's bed-side, where
he was sinning, but a lonely, dreary, distant spot where
his sin had cast him, and where the discipline of his
heavenly Father was dealing with him. In such a
place God can meet us. He cannot appear to us in the
scene of our iniquities, but He can in the place of His
correction. And such was Luz to Jacob. It was a
comfortless spot. The stones of the place were his
pillow, and the sky over his head his covering; and he
had no friend but his staff to accompany and cheer
him. But the God of his fathers comes there to him.
He does not alter his present circumstances or reverse
the chastening. He lets him still pursue his way
unfriended, to find, at the end of it, twenty years' hard
service at the hand of a stranger, with many a wrong
and injury. But he gives him heavenly pledges, that
hosts on high should watch and wait around him.

The Lord had made, as we know, great promises to
Abraham: the same were repeated to Isaac, and are
now, at Bethel, given to Jacob. But, to Jacob, something
very distinct from these common promises is
added: "And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee
in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee
again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I
have done that which I have spoken to thee of." *v.* 15.
This was a new promise, an added mercy; just because
Jacob needed it, as Abraham and Isaac had not. Jacob
was the only one of the three who needed that the
Lord would be with him wherever he went, and bring
him home again. Jacob, by his own naughtiness, had
made this additional mercy necessary to himself, and, in
abounding grace, he gets it; and the vision of the
ladder pledges it. The promises to Abraham and to
Isaac had not included this providential, angelic care.
They had remained in the land; but Jacob had made
himself an exile, that needed the care and watching of
a special oversight from heaven, and he gets it. And
it is to this, I believe, that Jacob alludes, when he says
to Joseph, The blessings of thy father have prevailed
above the blessings of my progenitors. Chap. xlix. 26.
This angelic care, that watched over him, under direct
commission from heaven, in his days of exile and
drudgery, which his own error had incurred, *distinguished*
him as an object of mercy, and gave him
"blessings" above those of his "progenitors." And
in this character he reached "the bounds of the everlasting 
hills." He was heir of the kingdom as a *debtor
to special mercy*, through that abounding grace that had
helped him and kept him amid the bitter fruits of his
own naughtiness. As David, in his day, triumphed in
"the everlasting covenant" made with him, though for
the present his house was in ruins through his own sin.
2 Samuel xxiii.

This is God's way, excellent and perfect in the
combination of grace and holiness. And upon this, let
me observe, that in all circumstances there are two
objects, and that nature eyes the one, and faith the
other. Thus, in divine discipline, such as Jacob was
now experiencing, there is the *rod*, and also the *hand
that is using it*. Nature regards the first, faith recognizes
the second. Job, in his day, broke down under the rod,
because he concerned himself with it alone. Had he
eyed the counsel, the heart, or the hand that was
appointing it (as we are exhorted to do, Micah vi. 9),
he would have stood. But nature prevailed in him, and
he kept his eye upon the rod, and it was too much for
him.

So in *failures*, as well as in circumstances, there are
two objects. Conscience has its object, and faith again
has its object. But conscience is not to be allowed to
rob faith of its treasures, the treasures of restoring,
pardoning grace, which the love of God in Christ has
stored up for it.

There is great comfort in this. Nature is not to be
over-busy with circumstances, nor conscience with
failures. Nature is to feel that no affliction is for the
present joyous, and conscience or heart may be broken;
but in either case, faith is to be at its post and do its
duty; and much of the gracious energy of the Spirit in
the epistles is engaged in putting faith at its post, and
encouraging it to do its duty. The Apostles, under the
Holy Ghost, take knowledge of the danger and temptation
we are under by nature; and while it is abundantly
enforced, that conscience is to be quick and jealous, yet
it is required that faith shall maintain itself in the
very face of it.

To know God *in grace* is His praise and our joy. We
naturally, or according to the instincts of a tainted
nature, think of Him as one that *exacts obedience and
looks for service*. But faith knows Him as one that
*communicates*, that speaks to us of privileges, of the
liberty and the blessing of our relationship to Him.

But Jacob's soul was not quite up to this way of
grace. He found the place where the ladder and the
angels were seen, and where the God of his fathers
spoke to him, to be "dreadful." In some sense it was
too much for him. As it was long afterwards with
Peter on the holy hill. God is true to the aboundings
of His grace. Jacob may say, "How dreadful is this
place!" Peter and his companions may have their
fear; but the ladder, nevertheless, reaches to heaven,
and angels are up and down upon it in the sight of
the patriarch; and the glory on the Mount still shines.
For the grace of God is richer than the apprehensions
of the soul about it. God shines in Himself above
our experiences. And it is in Himself He is to be
known, and not in the reflections of our experience.

Still, like Peter on the hill, Jacob, in some sense,
found it good to be at Luz, and he called the place
Bethel. It was the house of God to him, for God had
there been with him, and spoken to him; it was the
gate of heaven in his eye, for there the angels had
appeared, as descending from their own place on high.
"This is none other but the house of God," says he,
"and this is the gate of heaven."

God both *records* His name and *glorifies* it. He
records it or reveals it at first, and faith accepts Him.
In due time He verifies that record or testimony,
making it all good, and thus glorifies His name. And
wherever He records His name there is His house.
Ornan's threshing-floor got the same dignity long afterwards,
which Luz now gets, and on the same title.
"This is the house of the Lord God, and this is the
altar of burnt-offering for Israel," says David of that
spot of the Jebusite. 1 Chron. xxii. 1. For it was the
place, like this Bethel of our patriarch, where mercy
had rejoiced against judgment, where God was revealing
Himself in the aboundings of His grace, and there
faith descries the house of God. Jacob and David,
each in his day, were saints under discipline; but the
Lord met them in the rich provisions of His love, thus
revealing Himself or recording His name; and this
was His house to them. But it is easier thus to consecrate
the house, than to learn the lesson that is
taught there. Jacob rightly uttered his heart under
force of the impressions which the vision could not
but awaken; but there is something of old Jacob in
his spirit still. The faulty way of his heart is at work
still, and he seems to calculate, and to make bargains,
and to enter into conditions, though the Lord had
spoken to him there in the language of the promise,
in free, sovereign, abounding goodness. For nature
still stirs itself after many a rebuke and defeat, and
outlives what for a moment may have appeared a
death-blow. Jacob no more now leaves it behind him
at Bethel, than before he had left it behind him in
his mother's tent.

But he goes on. Grace sets the chastened saint on
his journey, and with some alacrity too, till "he came
to the land of the people of the east," till he reached
Padan-aram, where his mother's counsel had appointed
him, and, doubtless, where the hand of God had now
conducted him.

His introduction to Rachel was at the well, and in
the midst of the flock, like that of Eliezer to Rebecca;
and Eliezer was but Isaac's representative. But Jacob
was the poor man, Isaac the wealthy. Isaac could
enrich Rebecca with earrings and bracelets of gold,
pledges of the goodly estate he had for her. Jacob
has but his toil and sweat of face. The one was as
the son and heir, the other a man who had beggared
himself, and must find his own way through the wear
and tear of life as best he may, with God's help. Israel
served for a wife, and for a wife he kept sheep. Hosea
xii. 12. And a hard service he was about to find it.
But he enters on it at once, and continues at it for
twenty long years. Chap. xxix.-xxxi.

The scene is laid in the house of Laban his mother's
brother, and a scene of various moral action it quickly
becomes, and so continues. We have not only Jacob
himself and Laban, but the two wives Leah and Rachel,
and their two handmaids Zilpah and Bilhah.

Jacob had been but a little while under the trials
and sorrows of his sojourn with Laban, ere he was
visited after the very pattern of his own offence at
home. He had deceived his father touching his brother
and the blessing. Laban now deceives him touching
Rachel and the marriage. But in much of his behaviour
during the twenty years he spent with Laban, we see
what was excellent in him. For the force and influence
of knowing *that we are under the hand of God for correction*,
is necessarily felt by a mind that has anything
right towards God in it. It is not that nature will be
changed or broken under such a pressure, but it must,
in measure, more or less, be controlled. David when
under rebuke, sore and humbling as ever saint had
exposed himself to, carries himself beautifully. His
words to Ittai, to Zadok, and to Hushai, his resentment
of the motion of the sons of Zeruiah, his humiliations,
his lamentations over Absalom, and his using his
victory as if it had been a defeat, all this and more
than this of the same kind, show us a blessed work
of the Spirit in his soul. In Jacob at Padan-aram we
get nothing so fine as this, I know; but, if I mistake
not, we get a saint under discipline conscious of the
discipline, well understanding the character of the
moment under God's hand, and the righteousness of
the rebuke of the Lord, carrying himself meekly and
watchfully. He submits to the wrongs of an injurious
master in silence. He serves patiently, and suffers
without complaint. His wages were changed ten times,
but he answers not again. In all this he is humbled
under the mighty hand of God, as one who would fain
remember his own past ways. And at the end of
twenty years' hard drudgery and ill usage, he is able
to testify of his fidelity, and God Himself seems to seal
the testimony. By the providences of His hand, and
the revelations in visitations of His Spirit, and also
by direct interferences with Laban himself, the Lord
shelters and blesses and vindicates Jacob.

There is beauty in this. I say not that nature was
mortified, that the root of bitterness was judged. We
shall find, I know, that after this, Jacob is old Jacob
still, sadly betrayed by the same leaven that had been
working in him from the beginning. But, while in
the house of the Syrian, Jacob was as one who knew
himself to be under the mighty hand of God as for
correction, and carried himself accordingly, neither
justifying himself against reproaches, nor contending
for his rights in the face of wrongs and injustice.

Such a one I judge Jacob to have been in the house
of Laban. As to Laban, he was a thorough man of
the world when Jacob entered his house, and so he
was when Jacob left it. In all his dealings, from first
to last, he eyes his own advantage. He is constrained
to own that the hand of God was with Jacob; but he
would make that hand, through Jacob, minister to
himself, and turn Jacob's interest in God to his own
account. For twenty years he had the witness of the
hand of the Lord, and the operation of His grace and
power, under his eye and in his house, and that daily;
but he continued a man of the world still. God came
near to him, as afterwards to Bethsaida and Chorazin
in the doing of His mighty works; but there was no
repentance. And Jacob's departure from his house at
the last, was like an escape out of the enemy's hand,
or from the snare of the fowler. It was a kind of
exodus. In a family way it was what was afterwards
known by Israel in a national way. Laban was as
Pharaoh, and Padan-aram as Egypt to our patriarch.
He would fain have kept Jacob a drudge still, or at
best have sent him away as a beggar; but the Lord
pleaded for Jacob with Laban, as He afterwards
pleaded for Israel with Pharaoh. Laban and Pharaoh
had each in his day *witnessed* the operation of God,
but neither of them became the *subject* of it.

A thorough lover of the world he surely was, and
never anything better; a crafty one, and a hypocritical
one too--common companions. At the end, when all
his devices are broken to pieces, and no enchantment is
allowed to prosper, as against Israel, he does what he
can, according to the miserable, disgusting style of a
crafty heart, to cover the purpose which had now failed,
and to give himself a fair character. He pretends that
Jacob's leaving him was mere fondness for home, while
his conscience must have told him many a very different
reason. He affects grief and indignation at not having
an opportunity of kissing his daughters and grandchildren,
and of sending them away honourably, while
his conscience must have reminded him how he had sold
them again and again. He seems to be concerned for
them, now about to be in Jacob's hand, as if his own
hand had been that of a father to them. He pretends
to spare Jacob through religious fear of God's words,
while he must have felt himself to be completely
restrained by God, willing or unwilling, religious or
profane; as Balaam afterwards. And he gives a serious
air to the last bargain between him and Jacob, introducing
the name of the God of Abraham, though he had
just been searching for his idols, and was preparing to
return to that land out of which God had called Abraham,
and to continue there a thorough, heartless man of the
world still, a worshipper of his own god.

Miserable man! pointing a holy, serious lesson for us.

.. vspace:: 2

But we have the women and the children of Padan-aram,
as well as Laban the Syrian. The women and the
children of the Book of Genesis are all mysteries. We
see this in Eve and her three children--in Abraham's
Sarah, and Abraham's Hagar, and Abraham's Keturah,
and the seed of each of them. And we noticed in
Isaac (see page 152) the same mystic character in Rebecca
his wife, and Esau and Jacob his children. Each and
all tell out parts and parcels of the purpose of God, as
in figures. And now, in the women which become
connected with Jacob in Padan, whether it be his wife
the elder sister, or his wife the younger sister, or the
handmaids given to them, and in the children of each
of them, there are mysteries again.

In the children of Israel, that is, the nation, the
seed of Abraham, we find three classes. 1. There
has already been Israel *after the flesh*, set in the land
under title of their fleshly alliance with Abraham.
2. There is now, at this time, the nation *in bondage*,
made to know the service of the Gentiles. 3. There
will be, by-and-by, the nation *set in grace*, Israel
redeemed and accepted, established in the promises
made to the fathers.

These are three generations in the nation of Israel,
as that nation either has been, now is, or is to be
hereafter. And the shadowing of this, I judge, we
see in the families of Jacob in Padan; that is, in the
children of Leah, who had her title in the flesh; in
the children of the handmaids; and in the children of
Rachel the beloved, who had no strength in nature, but
whose seed was all of promise or of God.

The way of the wisdom of God is thus learnt in the
women and children here, in chapters xxix.-xxxi., as it
had been in the earlier family scenes of this wondrous
book.

As soon as Joseph, the child of promise, the son of
Rachel the beloved, is given to him, Jacob speaks of
leaving Padan, the place of his exile and bondage.
See xxx. 25, 26. And this, simple as it seems to
be, has character in it. The condition of an alien and
servant did not suit him, as soon as he got the seed
that witnessed to him the power of God in his behalf.
He may have felt somewhat instinctively, that it became
him now to assert his freedom, and to bethink himself
of his home and his inheritance. I say not whether
Jacob really entered into this, or whether it was something
of an inspiration that he breathed, and which, in
its full meaning, was beyond him. But so it was that
he said to Laban, immediately upon the birth of Joseph,
"Send me away, that I may go to my own place and to
my country."

It had been very much after this manner with
Abraham in an earlier day. As soon as Isaac was
weaned, the scene around Abraham immediately
changed. The child of the bondwoman has to leave
the house, and Abraham takes precedence of the
Gentile. See chap. xxi. The weaning of Isaac was
the turning-point in Abraham's condition. In spirit,
for a moment, he enters the kingdom, raising a new
altar, an altar to the "everlasting God," and planting
a grove. This was very fine, and the character of it
I have considered in its place. See "Abraham," page 126.
But so was it now with Jacob, as then with Abraham.
As soon as Joseph, the child of promise, that witnessed
the grace and strength of God, is given to him, he
conceives the thought of freedom and of home.

This was a fine, striking instance of the intelligence
of a new mind in Jacob. The way of faith, I may
add, is seen in Rachel on the same occasion, for she
calls her son "Joseph," that is, "adding;" assured
that the Lord, who had now *begun* His mercies towards
her, would *go on* with them and *perfect* them. As
faith now in our hearts and on our lips, in like spirit,
says, "He that spared not His own Son, but delivered
Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also
freely give us all things?" From His gifts, Rachel
not only "drew a plea to *ask* Him still for more," but
in still bolder, happier faith, drew a conclusion to *trust*
Him still for more.

But though this was so, the connection between
Laban and Jacob is continued for a while after Joseph's
birth, till the separation takes place under force of
other circumstances altogether, leaving Laban, still
more than before, a kind of pillar of salt, or a solemn
remembrance to us of what our wretched hearts are
capable.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part III.`--The time of his servitude closes in chap.
xxxi. He is then on his way back from Padan-aram
to Canaan; the principal scenes of his journey being
at *Mount Gilead*, shortly after his setting out, and
*Mahanaim*, near the brook Jabbok, a little before he
entered the land.

It was at Mount Gilead that the parting between him
and Laban took place, for Laban had pursued him so
far. But there they make a covenant, offering sacrifice,
and then eating together as upon the sacrifice.

Such a scene, in mystery, exhibits our blessing.
For we enjoy a covenant of peace, secured by a sacrifice,
and witnessed by a feast. So, in the night of
redemption from Egypt, the altar and the table, that
is, the sacrifice and the feast, are there again. The
blood is upon the door-post, and the household, thus
ransomed and sheltered, are within, feeding on the
lamb, whose blood was protecting and delivering them.

But there is another thing on this occasion to be
noticed--*it is Jacob who offers the sacrifice*.

This has a great character in it. It tells us that
Jacob knew his place and dignity under God. Laban
had all the claims which nature or the flesh or relationship
could confer, but Jacob acts in spite of them.
Laban was the elder; he was the master and the
father-in-law. But still Jacob takes the place of the
"better," and offers the sacrifice, in the like spirit of
faith as Abraham when entering into covenant with
the king of Gerar (chapter xxi.); or like Jethro at
Horeb, in the midst of the Israel of God, and in the
presence of Aaron. Ex. xviii.

Such cases are among the triumphs of faith; and
they are no mean triumphs either. To know our
high title in Christ, and by no means to surrender it,
even when circumstances may humble us, this is no
easy thing. Jacob was under discipline in Padan-aram.
He had no altar there. Before God he was
rather a penitent than a worshipper. But before
Laban he knows himself as a saint, and here, at the
Mount Gilead, he has his pillar, his sacrifice, and his
feast, and he exercises that faith which emboldens him
to act according to his dignity as a saint and priest
of God, in the presence of all the claims of flesh and
blood. Elihu, in the book of Job, though renouncing
*himself* before his elders, asserts the title of *the Spirit
in him*, in the face of the highest claims of nature.

It is very encouraging to witness such fragments
of the mind of Christ in the saints. Jacob never
suspected his title in Christ, from first to last, though
under discipline all his days. And this is blessed--blessed
to take the place that grace, in its riches, in
its exceeding riches, in its glory and in its aboundings,
gives us. I do not believe, if Peter in John xxi. had
purposed to reach the Lord as a *penitent*, he would
have *hurried* towards him as he did. A penitent
would have approached with a more measured step.
But Peter was not thinking of his late denial of his
Lord, but of his Lord Himself. His step was therefore
hurried and earnest. He had sinned against his
Master, it is indeed true, and might have been backward
and ashamed. But, wondrous to say it, as Peter
*the penitent* would not have taken so ready and so
earnest a journey, so Peter the penitent would not, at
the end of it, have been so welcome to his Master, as
the confiding though erring Peter. In this is the grace
and heart of Him "with whom is *all* our business
now."

These are but fragments however, broken pillars in
the temples of God. Nature is nature still; and Jacob,
quickly after all this, betrays himself as *old* Jacob still.

One has said, that had the Lord slacked His hand
with Job, when the *first* trial was over, Job would
have come short of the blessing. There was respite;
and it might have been thought that all had ended.
But God's end in grace was not yet reached; and we
may be sure that Satan's malice was not yet satisfied.
The unweary adversary begins afresh, the Lord gives
him place again, and Job is visited a *second* time.

And nature is just as unwearied as Satan. Expel
it and it will return. We have just had this little
respite from the way of nature, in Jacob at Mount
Gilead, and seen for a moment the better mind in him,
and some expressions of the glory, but we are quickly,
too quickly indeed, to see the old man again.

Jacob goes on his way from Mount Gilead, and as
he approaches the borders of the land, the angels of
God meet him. Jacob at once recognizes them. "This
is God's host," says he, and he called the place
Mahanaim.

This was holy ground. The undertakings of chapter
xxviii. had been fulfilled--the pledges of Bethel had
been redeemed. Accordingly, we have no ladder here.
Providential, angelic guardianship had fulfilled its
ministry; Jacob had been kept in the distant land,
and brought home to his own land. The ladder may,
therefore, be taken down, and instead of angels ascending
and descending as between heaven and the
patriarch, angels *meet* him. They are standing before
him, just to salute him, or to welcome him on his
return. The Lord God of his fathers and of the promises
was welcoming our patriarch home, and ministers
of the heavenly courts were sent to express the mind
of their King towards him.

This was "piping" to Jacob, and Jacob ought to
have "danced." He should have breathed an exulting
spirit. He should have been already in triumph, ere
the battle was fought, or even the armies were arrayed.
He should have entered the field with songs, like
Jehoshaphat. If the hosts of heaven thus waited on
him, what had he to fear from the hosts of Esau? "If
God be for us, who can be against us?" But this was
not so with him. He "laments," rather than dances, at
this piping. He trembles, and prays, and calculates.
He marshals his force, as though the battle were his.
This is all *religious*, but it is all *unbelief* too; and all
this the Lord resents. Surely He does. It was all out
of harmony in His ear. He had welcomed Jacob home
with every token of an earnest, honourable welcome,
but Jacob was out of spirits.

The Lord seeks to be *one* with us, and that we be
one with Him; so that discordance of soul can never
suit Him. He withstands Jacob. "There wrestled
a man with him," as we read, "till the breaking of
the day." This was God's answer to his prayer.
And this is all very significant, and it has lessons
for us.

It is found by us much easier to trust the Lord in
all questions that arise between Him and ourselves,
than it is to bring Him in, and use Him, and trust
Him, in questions that arise between us and others--easier
to trust Him for eternity than for to-morrow;
because eternity is entirely in His hand. To-morrow,
as we judge, is more or less divided between Him and
others--in the power of circumstances as well as of
God. Abraham, in his day, betrayed this. He came
forth at the bidding of the God of glory, leaving
country, kindred, and father's house; but as soon as
a famine came, his faith failed, and instead of trusting
the Lord in the face of circumstances, he goes down to
Egypt.

Jacob, at Mahanaim, betrays the same easy, common
way of nature. He is unable to trust God in the face
of Esau. Esau's 400 men frighten him, and he will
interpose, first, his messengers with words of peace and
friendliness, and then, his presents, that by one or the
other he may allay the heat of his brother's anger.
He has no faith in God, so as to bring Him in between
himself and Esau. He trembles, and prays, and calculates,
and marshals his household. Circumstances
have proved too much for him. But immediately
afterwards, when the Lord Himself withstands him,
when it becomes a question between him and God,
then he is bold and prevails. He faints not, though
rebuked, and rebuked sharply, by the Lord. He
behaves himself like a champion of faith, and obtains
a good report. He carries himself like a prince, and
gains new honours. This is a common experience, and
this moment in Jacob's history at the brook Jabbok
expresses it.

There is not, however, necessarily, in such a victory
as this, a cure for that faint-heartedness that had
occasioned the previous conflict. And Jacob is now
about to illustrate this for our further admonition.
In the very next chapter (xxxiii.), which is but the
continuance of the same action, or a further stage in
it, we find him the same timid, unbelieving, calculating
man, in the presence of Esau, as he had been, ere he
had prevailed with the wrestler at Jabbok.

This is admonition for us. There may be exercise of
spirit before God, and yet not much advance in the
strength of the soul in carrying on its conflict with the
world. In no stage of his history does Jacob appear
morally lower than in that which immediately follows
Peniel. He is not in anywise purified from himself.
He calculates, he prevaricates, he affects amiability and
confidence, he lies, he flatters. He stood against the
stranger at Jabbok. He was strong in faith, glorifying
the grace of God, even when the way of God had a
controversy with him. But before Esau he practises
and acts the old man to shameful perfection. He rids
himself of his brother by a grossly false pretence.
He is nothing better than a mean flatterer, a servile
courtier, shamelessly speaking of the face of Esau as
of the face of God. It is all miserable--a humbling
picture of the moral condition to which a saint may
come, for a time, if nature be allowed.

There are moments of exhilaration of spirit, and we
may be thankful for them; as when Jacob had so lately,
in the preceding chapter, said, "This is God's host;" and
again, "I have seen God face to face, and my life is
preserved." These are moments of exhilaration of spirit.
But then, they may be only *refreshments*, and not solid
edification. And sad indeed it is to see a saint after
them returning so quickly to himself. "Where is then
the blessedness ye spake of?"

And who will trust his own heart, when we thus see
that Jacob's was so untrue? Jacob had lost the knowledge
of God's name. He had to inquire after it, instead
of using it and enjoying it. That name was "Almighty,"
the name that told him of all-sufficiency for all his need.
But Jacob had lost it in chap. xxxii., and he is not as
one who had recovered it in chap. xxxiii. He is contriving
for himself. And we may, in like manner, lose
the name that has been revealed to us. That name is
"Father"--a name that may give abiding calmness and
strength and liberty to the soul. It prepares a home for
the heart. "He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God."
This home is enough to make our joy full, as John
speaks. And though we may be under His hand for
discipline, as Jacob was, still we are to know the power
of that name, the full, secret, unchanging love of a father.
Like Jacob in these two chapters, we have lost the name
of God, if it be not thus with our souls. "Ye have
forgotten the exhortation that speaketh unto you as unto
children," says the apostle to us. And Jacob, therefore,
may be no longer such a wonder to us, but we may the
rather at times be a wonder to ourselves.

.. vspace:: 2

After this, in his journey onward from the place where
he and Esau parted, he reaches Succoth, and then
Shechem, and we may say, he had then returned to
Canaan. But it is only still worse and worse with him.
He seems for a while to have entirely forgotten himself
and the call of God. And mischief must follow this.
Consistency with our calling is looked for. We are all,
it may be in a thousand ways, untrue to it; but if it be
willingly disregarded by an easy, relaxing conscience,
the commonest moral defences may soon give way.
Truth and integrity may be forced to yield, and such
pollutions may at last be found, that would not, as the
apostle speaks, be named among the Gentiles.

At Succoth, where our patriarch first arrived, he
builds a house; and then at Shalem, in Shechem, he
buys a field--what Abraham and Isaac, truer to the
call of God, never did, and never would have done.
How could he count on moral security under such
circumstances? The tent had been exchanged for a
house, and the pilgrim stranger had become a citizen
and a freeholder. Was not all this a forgetting of
himself under the call of God? The Lord, long after
this, lets David know, by His servant Nathan, that
there was a difference between a *house* and a *tent*,
and that He would have that difference maintained.
1 Chron. xvii. But here at Succoth, Jacob violates this.
So also it is the divine memorial of the patriarchs in
their purity, that they dwelt in tents (Heb. xi. 9); but
here at Succoth, Jacob willingly forfeits that memorial.
And again, the Lord did not give Abraham so much
land as to set his foot on (Acts vii. 5); but here at
Shalem in Shechem, Jacob, in spite of this, will have
a parcel of ground, and buy it for an inheritance.

The altar, which comes next, in the catalogue, to the
house and the field, may appear at first to be a relief
and a sanctifier, the one good thing in the midst of
corruption. But it is, perhaps, the worst of all. It
was not raised to Him who had appeared to him.
There had been no communion between the Lord and
Jacob, at either Succoth or Shechem. Shechem was
not Bethel, and this parcel of ground, where El-elohe-Israel
was raised, was not the place of stones and
destitution, where abounding grace had shone from an
open heaven on the unfriended head of the patriarch,
but the parcel of a field which Jacob had bought of the
children of Hamor, the father of Shechem. It was
raised, not by a heavenly stranger to the God who
visited him, but in the midst of the uncircumcised. It
looks like an attempt to get the Lord's sanction of
Jacob's loss of his separated, pilgrim, Nazarite character;
to link His name and His worship with that on which
His judgment was resting, and toward which His long-suffering
was shown till iniquity was full.

Surely it is rather an uncircumcised Jacob we see
here, and not circumcised Shechemites. It is all
miserable. Is this a son of Abraham? Is this a
saint of God? Is this one of God's strangers in a
world that has revolted from Him? This is like the
religious energy of Christendom, which has put the
name of Christ in company with the world that is
under His judgment, and only borne with in His
long-suffering. It is as if Israel had consented to
Pharaoh, and undertaken to give Jehovah an altar
in Egypt. But such altars are no altars--as another
gospel is not another. Such religion is vain, whether
practised in these earliest days at Shechem, or now in
these days of Christendom, among the nations of a
judged, condemned world, from which separation is the
call of God. But this will not do. A fair trade with
the world will be followed, and the course of it pursued
greedily, without watchfulness or conviction, but
religious family services, and religious national ordinances,
the modern order at Shechem, will all the
while be waited on.

It was of the fruit of all this that Jacob had afterwards
to say, "O my soul, come not thou into their
secret; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou
united." For it is to the action in chapter xxxiv. that
Jacob thus refers, when he was about to die, in chapter
xlix. He finds out, at the end, the real character of
all this, the fruit of his dwelling at Shechem. In
self-will a man had been killed there, and a fence
thrown down. But surely Jacob himself had digged
down God's fence before. The partition-wall which
the call of God had raised between the clean and the
unclean, between the circumcision and the Gentile, he
himself, in spirit, had broken down, when he settled
as a citizen or freeholder on his purchased estate at
Shechem. And Simeon and Levi may perfect this,
as soon afterwards as they please.

"And Dinah, the daughter of Leah, which she bare
unto Jacob, went out to see the daughters of the
land." xxxiv. 1. Was this the way of the house of
Abraham? Was this the family of the separated
patriarch keeping the way of the Lord? Had Abraham
been thus slack? What intercourse had he had for
his children with either the sons or the daughters of
the land?

It is all sad, and proclaims its own shame. Shechem
is next door to Sodom. But it is not Sodom, I grant.
Jacob is not Lot. We can distinguish; and we have
to distinguish, though it is sad to be put to the work
of distinguishing. Nature prevails, in some more, in
some less, in all the recorded saints of God. But there
is *moral variety*, as well as the *prevalency of nature*,
and "things that differ" among the saints are to be
distinguished by us. There is a *soiled* garment, and
there is a *mixed* garment. Our way, under the Spirit,
is to keep the garment both unsoiled and unmixed.
Surely it is to keep ourselves "unspotted from the
world." But still, a *soiled* garment is not a *mixed*
garment, a garment, as Scripture speaks, "of divers
sorts, of woollen and of linen." Nor is a garment
with a thread of "another sort" now and again in it,
to be mistaken for a mixed garment, the texture of
which is wrought on the very principle of woollen and
linen. Scripture, ever fruitful and perfect, exhibits
characters formed by what are called "mixed principles,"
and also characters which occasionally betray
the mixture, but which are not formed throughout by
them. The life of Lot was formed throughout by
mixed principles. As soon as temptation addressed
him, he entered into connection with evil. Though
associated with the call of God, he had to be saved
so as by fire. The garment which Lot wore was of
divers sorts, of woollen and of linen. Abraham, at
times, wore a soiled garment, but never a mixed one.
Lot was untrue to the call of God from the outset of
his career to the close of it. He became a citizen
where he should have been a stranger, taking a house
in the city of Sodom, while Abraham was traversing
the face of the country from tent to tent. And Lot's
life of false principles leads him into *sorrows that are
his shame*--and that is the real misery of sorrow.
He had no comfort in his sorrow. His righteous soul
was vexed: this is told of him; but there was no joy,
no brightness, no triumph in his spirit. The angels
maintained much reserve towards him. He had to
escape with his life as a prey, and under the loss of all
beside.

Our Jacob was not of this generation. We dare not
say he was a man of mixed principles, or one who wore
a garment of divers sorts, of woollen and linen. But he
had a soiled garment on him pretty commonly, and here
at Succoth and at Shechem, a garment with threads of
another sort woven in it. His schemes and calculations
disfigure him, and are the soiled garment; his building
a house at Succoth, and purchasing a field at Shechem,
untrue to the call of God, and to the tent-life of his
fathers, look very like a garment with threads of
another sort in it.

Still Jacob is not to be put with Lot. His life was
not *formed* of mixed principles. He was indeed a
stranger with God in the earth. But, like Lot, he had
been in the place of the uncircumcised willingly; and
he was now to feel the bitterness of his own way; and
very much what Sodom had been to Lot, Shechem is
now to Jacob. He is saved (may I not say?) yet so as
by fire. The iniquity of Simeon and Levi, with the
instruments of cruelty that were in their habitations,
bring poor Jacob very low. He is at his wits' end in
the midst of that people, of whom he had purchased
his estate, and in the neighbourhood of whom, he had,
Lot-like, consented to settle.

Things, however, are now at the worst. We are
about to make, through the grace of God, a happy
escape with Jacob out of all this, to find a good riddance
of Shechem and all its pollutions.

"A word spoken in due season, how good is it!" We
often prove this ourselves. A word will do more for us
at times than long and careful discourses. For "power
belongeth unto God." "Follow me," from the lips of
Christ, had power to detach Levi from the receipt of
custom; while, in the same chapter, a discourse was
heard by Peter without effect, being left by it, as he had
been before it, the easy, kind-hearted, amiable, and
obliging Peter. See Luke v. "Thy people shall be
willing in the day of thy power," even that very people,
of whom it had been said before, "All day long have I
stretched out my hands unto a disobedient and 
gainsaying people."

An instance of this power is found in the history of
Jacob, just at this time, in chapter xxxv. 1.

"Arise, go up to Bethel," said the Lord to him, "and
dwell there; and make there an altar unto God, that
appeared unto thee when thou fleddest from the face of
Esau thy brother."

These few words were with power. They formed, I
believe, the great era in the life of Jacob, or rather, in
the history of his soul. They were few and simple,
unaccompanied by anything strange or startling, no
vision or miracle attending them; but they were a day
of power. He had already come forth from the vision
of the ladder at Bethel, from the magnificent sight of
the angelic host at Mahanaim, and from the wrestling
of the divine Stranger at Peniel, scarcely helped or
advanced at all in the real energy of his soul. But now,
power visits him; and power with God may use as weak
an instrument as it pleases; it matters not. The hand
of God can do the business of God, though it have but
a sling and a stone, or the jaw-bone of an ass, or lamps
and pitchers; and the Spirit of God can do the business
of God with souls, though He use but a word, or a
look, or a groan.

These few words which open chapter xxxv. prevail
over Jacob. "Arise, go up to Bethel." Bethel is
rewritten on his heart and conscience as by the finger
of God. He falls before it, as Abraham, in chap. xvii.,
had fallen before the name of "God Almighty," or as
Peter, long after, in Luke xii., fell before the look of
Jesus.

Power is always its own witness, as light is. These
words, carrying the power of God with them, are
everything now to the soul of our patriarch. They
manifest their virtue at once, just as the one touch
of the woman in the crowd did. As soon as Jacob
heard them, without fuller commandment to do so,
he cleanses his household, and will have his tents
purified of all the abominations which they had
brought with them out of Padan. In spirit he was
already at Bethel, the place where God had met him
in the riches of His grace, in the day of his degradation
and misery. Bethel had been reintroduced to his
heart--yea, manifested to his soul in greater vividness
than ever. He now read the story of grace clearer
than ever; and *grace pleads for holiness*. The feast of
unleavened bread waits on the Passover. The grace
of God that bringeth salvation teaches us to deny
ungodliness and worldly lusts. For grace, again I say
it, pleads for holiness. And so, Jacob, now hearing
of Bethel in the power of the Spirit, without further
ordinance, or requirement, or command, will have his
house and his household clean.

This is full of beauty and meaning. Pollution
cannot be allowed by one who is in the sense and
joy of abounding grace. Gods and earrings, idols and
vanities, are together buried under an oak at Shechem,
and Shechem is left behind. The patriarch rises up
with all that was his, and is quickly on the road to
Bethel. He had kept the feast of unleavened bread
in company with the Passover, as Israel afterwards
did in Egypt; but, like Israel too, he is at once, with
staff in hand and shoe on foot, leaving his Egypt
behind him. And the Lord accompanies him, as He
did Israel in the day of their Exodus afterwards; and
accompanies in *strength* too; for, as the rod of Moses
opened the way of Israel in the face of enemies, and
He that was in the cloud looked out and troubled the
host of Pharaoh, so now, we read of Jacob and his
household, "they journeyed, and the terror of God was
upon the cities that were round about them, and they
did not pursue after the sons of Jacob."

This is surely full of beauty and meaning, I may
again say. There is mercy and blessing here, but there
is humbling also. Israel had lost the power of God's
name, and Jacob must now learn that he had lost also
the honour of his own name. But all shall be given
back to him. "God Almighty," and "Israel," and
"Bethel" are revealed afresh, at this moment of
revival.

God must be worshipped as the God of salvation.
To be sure He must, in such a world as this. Such
worship is the only worship "in truth." John iv. 23.
In Lev. xvii. and in Deut. xii. the divine jealousy
touching this is strongly expressed. It is as "Saviour,"
He records His name in a scene of sin and death. As
He says by His prophet, "There is no God else beside;
a *just God and a Saviour*; there is none beside me."
Isa. xlv. 21. This is revelation of Him; and on this
all worship is grounded. In this He records His
name, and there is His house of praise. At Bethel,
God has thus recorded His name, and there was His
house, and there Jacob now brings his sacrifices. He
raises his altar, and calls it El-Bethel. With Jacob,
that was the Tabernacle of the wilderness, or the
Temple on Mount Moriah, the Temple on Ornan's
threshing-floor. And this was infinitely acceptable,
and God gave fervent and immediate witness of such
acceptableness; for He appeared to him at once at
the altar there, and blessed him, and said, "Thy name
shall not be called any more Jacob, but Israel shall be
thy name: and He called his name Israel. And God
said unto him, I am God Almighty: be fruitful and
multiply; a nation and a company of nations shall be
of thee, and kings shall come out of thy loins; and
the land which I gave Abraham and Isaac, to thee will
I give it, and to thy seed after thee will I give the
land. And God went up from him in the place where
He talked with him."

This was the expression of divine acceptance, and
delight in Jacob's altar at Bethel. This was like the
glory filling the Tabernacle in Exodus xl., and again
filling the Temple in 2 Chron. v. This was the God
of grace and salvation with desire occupying the house
and accepting the worship which a poor sinner, who
had tasted abounding grace, had raised and rendered
to Him. Nothing can exceed the interest of such a
moment. Solomon felt the power of such a moment;
for on seeing the glory fill the house which he had
built, he utters his heart in these admirable words:
"The Lord hath said that He would dwell in the
thick darkness. But I have built a house of habitation
for Thee, and a place for Thy dwelling for ever." The
Temple, where mercy was seen to rejoice against
judgment, had power to draw the Lord God from the
thick darkness, the retreat of righteousness, into the
midst of His worshipping people.

What could exceed this? And, in patriarchal days,
this was seen at this altar or temple at Bethel. The
glory was there. The Lord appeared there, and spoke
there to Jacob, as afterwards to Solomon. Luz was as
Ornan's threshing-floor, and each of them had become
God's house. And Jacob called the place, a second
time, Bethel, but without any of the misgivings that
had soiled his spirit when he was there at the first.
He is now there in the spirit of Solomon before the
glory in the Temple, knowing God's return to him,
and His nearness and presence with him.

Then, in the freedom and strength of all this, our
patriarch resumes his journey. He goes from Bethel
to Bethlehem, and from thence, by the tower of Edar,
to Mamre, in the south country, where his father Isaac
was dwelling. But in none of these places do we read
of house or land again. It is the tent and the altar
and the pillar, the journeying onward still, the burial of
his aged father, and at last, as one with his fathers,
dwelling in the land where they had dwelt before him.
See chap. xxxvii. 1.

This was indeed a different journey, in its moral
character, from the one which he had before taken
from Padan to Mount Gilead, and from thence onward
to Shechem through Mahanaim and Succoth. Jacob is
unrebuked now. We have no wrestling as at Peniel,
no peremptory voice summoning away as from Shechem.
No fears are awakened in our hearts respecting him,
lest the tent may be deserted again, or the call of God
be forgotten. The word "Bethel," on the lips of the
Lord and on the ear of Jacob, had done wonders. "A
word spoken in due season, how good is it!" surely we
may again remember. "Behold, God exalteth by His
power: who teacheth like Him?" And He might
surely have challenged His erring but convicted child,
after this second scene at Bethel, and said to him in
the words of Isaiah, "Thus saith the Lord thy Redeemer,
the Holy One of Israel, I am the Lord thy God which
teacheth thee to profit, which leadeth thee by the way
that thou shouldest go."

It is not that all is perfected as yet. Reuben's
iniquity may tell us this too painfully. But the rising
up from the place of nature, and the moral extrication
of his heart from the spirit of the world, have taken
place. Nor is it that he is as yet beyond the place of
discipline. That is not so. He does not find Rebecca
with Isaac at Mamre. He never sees his mother again,
the mother who had so preserved him and cherished
him. His mother's nurse he buries; and more than
that, his beloved Rachel he loses. He has indeed the
pledge of strength in "the son of his right hand," but
that same son told of sorrow touching Rachel. And
thus he is under discipline still. But--he is in God's
*way*, as well as under God's *hand*. That is the new
thing. Discipline is telling upon him, and reaching its
end. The path is shining, and its latest hour will soon
be found to be its brightest.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part IV.`--When we enter upon chapter xxxvii.
we find *Joseph* to be principal in the action, and
principal in the thoughts of the Spirit of God. This
is evident from the second verse: "These are the
generations of Jacob. Joseph being seventeen years
old," &c. But we get detached notices of Jacob from
this chapter to the end of the book, and which give us
the last portion of his history.

He was now, as I may call him, a widower. He
appears before us as a lonely, retired man, with more
of recollections than of present activities about him.
He was indeed the patriarch, the common head and
father of all the households of his children, and so
recognized by them. But the *business* of the family
was rather in their hands; and he was passing his
widowerhood without seeking to be again the stirring,
energetic man he had once been.

His retirement, however, was not like that of his
father Isaac. Isaac, for the last forty years of his
life, is not seen. He appears to have been laid aside,
as a vessel unfit for use, as I have observed of him,
not *wearing* out, as the word is, but *rusting* out.
See "Isaac," p. 185. But this was not Jacob's closing
years. He was no longer a man of business, but his
retirement was not *inactive*. The richest, happiest,
and purest exercises of his soul seem to be now, and
they enlarge and deepen as they advance; chastened
and disciplined as we have seen, his soul is now rendering
the fruit of divine husbandry. We cannot fully
say that Jacob ever reached the high dignity of being
a *servant* of God; but we may say, when we have
reached the end of his story, that he was *fruitful* to
Him.

For there is a difference between *service* and *fruitfulness*.
Service is more manifested and active, fruitfulness
may be hidden. The hand or the foot may serve,
and so they should. Tipped with the blood and with
the oil, they are to be instruments in the hands of the
Master of the house; but it is in the deep, secret
places of the heart that the husbandry of the saint,
in the power of the Spirit through the truth, is to be
yielding fruit to God. Fruitfulness is known in the
cultivation of those graces and virtues which give real
and intrinsic character to the people of God--those
habits and tempers and properties of the inner man
which, with God, are of great price. It is within, or
"out of the heart," that those herbs, meet for Him by
whom the soul is dressed, grow fragrant and beautiful,
such as bespeak the virtue of that rain from heaven
which has fallen upon it.

It is this fruitfulness, as I judge, which will be
found in our Jacob, in this last scene of his pilgrimage.
We have had some fainter notice of this, while yet
he remained in Canaan, and ere he took his journey
to Egypt. But the richer harvest of this husbandry
is gathered during the seventeen years that he spent
in that land, ere he himself was gathered to his fathers.
For this participation of God's holiness, this fruit of
the discipline of the Father of spirits, is commonly
gradual--and we shall find it to be so in Jacob--the
light shining more and more unto the perfect day;
the last hour being the brightest.

In the course of chapter xxxvii., which I have now
reached, we are told that the brethren of Joseph were
gone to feed their flocks at Shechem. But why was
this recurrence to Shechem? Was it that the purchased
land, the family estate, was there? [#]_ It was a
dangerous place to be connected with. It had proved
a snare to the whole family, and the Lord had called
them from it. Had Jacob been as watchful as he
should have been, we might not now have heard again
of Shechem and of the flocks and the brethren there.
But still, it is happy to see that there were symptoms
of uneasiness in his mind about it; for he sends
Joseph to find out how the flocks and the brethren
were faring there, as though there were some misgiving
in his heart about them in so suspected a
place. And this may be received as the pulse of a
quickened state of soul in our patriarch, though that
pulse be but weak.

.. [#] This parcel of ground, at last, becomes only a burying-place, like
   Machpelah; but it had not, at first, been purchased as such, as Machpelah
   was.

So afterwards in chapter xliii., when he is sending
away his sons, the second time, into Egypt to buy
food, he commits them into the hand of the Lord as
"God Almighty." "God Almighty," says he, "give you
mercy before the man, that he may send away your
other brother and Benjamin." This also tells happily
of Jacob's condition of soul--that in some measure
at least *he had recovered the power of that name which
he had once lost*, and which, as we saw, all the exercise
through which he had passed at Peniel had not given
back to him.

From these testimonies we may say that Jacob was
under godly exercise, by the hand of the Father of his
spirit, in those early days. Beyond this I need not
notice him, till we see him preparing to go down to
see his son in Egypt before he die. But that moment
was a very important moment indeed in the progress
of his soul--and we must meditate on it.

.. vspace:: 2

On his hearing that Joseph was yet alive, and
governor over all the land of Egypt, we read that
his heart fainted, for he believed it not. It was
the Lord's doing--for so the fact was--but it was
marvellous in Jacob's eyes. He "believed not for joy,
and wondered;" for this was receiving Joseph alive from
the dead. At first this was too much for him; but
when he saw the waggons which king Pharaoh had
sent to bear him, and all that belonged to him, down
to Egypt, his spirit revived, and he said, without
further delay, "It is enough, Joseph my son is yet
alive; I will go and see him before I die."

*Nature* thus spake at once in Jacob, as soon as the
report was believed; and without further challenge he
begins his journey to Egypt. But a calmer moment, as
we shall now see, succeeds this outburst or ebullition
of nature, and then the way of nature is challenged.

"And Israel took his journey with all that he had,
and came to Beersheba, and offered sacrifice to the God
of his father Isaac."

This is remarkable. Why these sacrifices at Beersheba?
There had been none at Mamre, ere Jacob
set out. Why, then, this halt at Beersheba, and this
service to the God of Isaac?

This may at first be wondered at; but it will be
found to be common enough (I had almost said,
necessary) in the ways of the people of God.

*Nature* had acted in Jacob at Mamre, as soon as he
believed the report about Joseph, and set him at once
on the road to Egypt. But now the *spiritual sensibilities*
have waked up, and are challenging the conclusions
and ways of nature. Very common this is.
The *saint* is now feeling reserve, where the *father* had
felt none. Jacob had not dealt with the Lord about
this journey, as he was beginning it; but the mind of
Christ in him, his conscience in the Holy Ghost, so
to speak, is now taking the lead, and the judgment of
nature is reviewed, and reviewed in the light of the
Lord.

Many years before this the Lord had said to Isaac,
Go not down into Egypt (xxvi. 2); and this had been
said to Isaac in a day of famine, like the present.
And this is remembered by Jacob as soon as he
reaches Beersheba, the last spot in the southern quarters
of the land, which lay in the way to Egypt, and in
the view of which was stretched out that country to
which Isaac had thus been warned not to go.

All this accounts to me for Jacob's sacrifices at
Beersheba to the God of his father Isaac. And all
this has great moral meaning in it. It was a mighty
stir in Jacob's soul, and it was very acceptable to
the Lord. As we find in the day of the siege of
Samaria. The poor lepers outside the city immediately
feed themselves and gather for themselves among
the tents of the Syrians. It was natural, almost
necessary, that they should do so. But soon afterwards
another mind begins to stir in them, as here
in our patriarch, and they say, We do not well:
this day is a day of good tidings, and we hold our
peace: if we tarry till the morning light, some mischief
will come upon us: now therefore come, that
we may go and tell the king's household. 2 Kings vii.
This was the action of a better mind, like this present
stir in Jacob's spirit. And this awakening in Jacob
is so acceptable with the Lord, that He comes at once
to him with these words of consolation, "I am God,
the God of thy father: fear not to go down into
Egypt; for I will there make of thee a great nation:
I will go down with thee into Egypt; and I will also
surely bring thee up again: and Joseph shall put his
hand upon thine eyes."

When we consider this for a moment, we may well
say, What a communication this was! How thoroughly
did it let Jacob know that the Lord had read *all* his
heart, his present fears and his earlier affections, the
mind of the father and the mind of the saint, the
desires of nature and the sensibilities of the spirit.
"Fear not to go down into Egypt" calmed the present
uneasiness of his renewed mind; "Joseph shall surely
put his hand upon thy eyes," gratified the earlier
desire of his heart over his long-lost child. How full
all this was! How perfectly did it prove the reality
of the sympathy of Christ with *all* that was stirring
in His elect one! Jacob found pity in Him, and grace
for seasonable help. "When my spirit was overwhelmed
within me, thou knewest my path," was said by David,
and is here surely understood by Jacob. The groan
that was not uttered by him in man's ear, had, in *all*
its meaning, entered the ear of Him who searcheth the
heart. And after this, Jacob can no longer halt at
Beersheba, or question his further journey to Egypt.

He accomplishes it; and his first sight of Joseph, as
we might have expected, and as the Lord would have
fully warranted it to be, was the occasion of fullest joy
to his long-bereaved heart. And I would here observe,
that I have felt, as to Jacob in these his last years,
that he had become a very *affectionate* old man; and
this is a happy impression, another witness of an
improved state of heart. For a calculating man, such
as he had been in the habits and activities of his life,
is commonly, and somewhat of moral necessity, wanting
in thoughtfulness and desire respecting others.
He is too much, of course, his own object. But now
it is not thus with Jacob. His grief at the loss of
Joseph was intense. He bewails Simeon bitterly as
well, and seems ready to brave the horrors of famine,
rather than hazard the loss of any more of the children.
And then, at the close of these years, his
adoption of the sons of Joseph, his sympathy with
Joseph in his sorrow over the preference of the
younger, his reference to Rachel and her burial at
Ephrath, and his mention of Leah, and of his fathers
and their wives in connection with Machpelah, all is
from a loving heart. And the general grief which
his death occasioned would tell us that he had been,
in the midst of the people, a loved, affectionate old man.
It is delightful to mark all this.

But with all this we find him, in his own person and
ways, very much the same widowed, solitary man in
Egypt as we saw him to have been for years in Canaan
ere he came out. Only it was thus under very strong
temptation to be otherwise; for he maintained his
strangership, though he now had opportunity to make
the earth again the scene of his efforts and expectations.
For we like *reflected* dignity. We know the charms of
it full well. If nature were given its way, we would
be making the most of our parentage, and connections,
and set off before others our alliance with that which
is honourable in our generation. Jacob, in Egypt, had
some of the very best opportunities for indulging his
heart in that way. His son was then the pride of that
land. Joseph was the second man in the kingdom, and
Joseph was Jacob's son. Here was a temptation to
Jacob to come forth and show himself to the world.
Joseph's father would have been an object. Would not
all eyes be upon him? Would not place be given to him
and way made for him, whenever or wherever he
appeared? Nature would have said, If Jacob had such
opportunities, let him show himself to the world. The
spirit of the world must have suggested that; as long
afterwards to a greater than Jacob, who had no *reflected*
glories to exhibit, but all *personal* glories. "If thou do
these things, shew thyself to the world." See John vii.
4. But, in the spirit of one who, in his way, had overcome
the world, Jacob continues a retired man through
all his life of seventeen years in Egypt. He was a
stranger, where every human attraction joined in
tempting him to be a citizen.

To me, I own, this is exquisite fruit of a chastened
mind, fruit of divine discipline, the witness of a large
participation of the holiness of God, the holiness that
suited the calling of God, the calling that made Jacob
a stranger and pilgrim on the earth. At Shechem he
reminded us of Lot in Sodom, but here he reminds us
of Abraham in his victory over all the offers of the
king of Sodom.

But with this separation from the world there is
nothing of false humility. In the midst of all this
practical strangership he knows and exercises his
dignity under God. As he enters, and as he leaves the
presence of king Pharaoh (chap. xlvii.), he blesses him.
This is to be observed. As he stood there in the royal
presence, he owned himself a pilgrim on the earth,
somewhat poor and weary too; but at his introduction
and on his exit he blesses him, as one who knew what
he was in the election and grace of God; for "without
all contradiction the less is blessed of the better." This
is not what old Simeon did when he had the infant of
Bethlehem in his arms, but this is what old Jacob now
does, when he has the greatest man on the earth before
him. He made no requests of the king, though he
might reasonably have expected whatever he asked.
He was silent as to all that Pharaoh or Egypt would do
for him, but he speaks as the better one blessing the less
again and again. This was like the chained prisoner of
Rome before the dignitaries and officers of Rome. Paul
let Agrippa know--he let the Roman governor know--that
he, their prisoner, carried and owned the good
thing, and that he could wish no better wish for them
all, than that they were as he was. And this is faith
that glorifies grace--the proper business of faith--precious
faith indeed, whether in a prisoner-apostle,
or in an exile stranger-patriarch. Rome and Egypt
have the wealth and power of the world, such as men
will envy and praise, but Paul and Jacob carry a
secret with them that makes them speak another
language.

This is all full of meaning in our Jacob. The glory
is hidden in an earthen vessel, but it is there, and the
vessel knows it to be there. Jacob does nothing in those
Egypt-years of his, to make history for the world. He
takes no part in its changes; its interests and progress
are lost upon him; he is at the disposal of others, taking
what they may give him, and being what they may
make him; but he knows a secret that takes his spirit
above them. Others may flourish in Egypt, he only
spends the remnant of his days there. See xlvii. 27, 28.

I own indeed that I stand in admiration of this way
of the Lord, of the Spirit of God, with Jacob. To
such a life as his had been, most suited was such an
end as this now is. It is a poor thing that we should
need such a pause as this, at the end of the journey;
but, if needed, it is beautiful to see it fruitful, after
this manner. During that long husbandry of his soul
under "the Father of spirits," that seventeen years in
Egypt, how commonly, I dare to suppose, did Jacob
sit before the Lord, meditating the past years, with
some confusion of face; and the fire would kindle then,
and the refiner's work go on.

But when these silent and retired years are about
to close, we find him, somewhat abruptly, stirring and
earnest. It is with Joseph respecting his burial. He
will have Joseph not only promise, but swear, that he
will bury him in the land of his fathers. xlvii. 30.
This is also very beautiful. We never find him urgent
about the conditions of his *life* in Egypt; he seems
willing, as I said, to take what they give him and to
be what they make him; but as to his *burial*, he is,
now, all urgency and decision. He will have it confirmed
to him by an oath, that his son will take his
dead body to that land which witnessed the promise
of God to him. He is earnest and peremptory now,
as he was indifferent before. For faith likes to read its
title clear, full, and indefeasible. Abraham would have
the inheritance by *covenant*, as well as by *word*. Chap.
xv. Jacob now will have the burial, such a burial as
is worthy of the hopes of a child of Abraham, by *oath*,
as well as by *promise*.

All this shows us another Jacob than what we once
knew him to be. He is now partaker of God's holiness;
his mind and character are in consistency with the call
of God. He is a stranger with God in the earth, but
in sure and certain hope of promised inheritance.
This is fruitfulness; I say not that it is service; but it
is beautiful fruitfulness in the inner man.

In chapter xlviii. which follows, we get that one
act in his life which is signalized by the Spirit as the
act of faith. See Heb. xi. 21. But the whole chapter
is beautiful. All is *grace* on God's part, and all is
*faith* in the heart of Jacob. For it is the proper
business and duty of *faith* to accept the decisions of
grace, and that is just what grace is doing here.
Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in
the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham.
Grace gives the place and portion of the firstborn,
the double portion, as though they were Reuben and
Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the
elder. And grace gives Joseph, or the adopted firstborn,
an earnest of his coming inheritance. To all
this Jacob bows and is obedient. In faith he accepts
the decisions of grace. Nature may resent this; but
Jacob is true to the word of grace committed to him.
Joseph was moved when Jacob was setting Ephraim
above Manasseh. Jacob feels for him; but he fulfils
the word of God committed to him, let nature be
surprised or wounded as it may. He does not listen
to nature in his son Joseph, as he had listened to it
on a like occasion, years and years ago, in his mother
Rebecca. [#]_

.. [#] In Joseph obtaining the rights of the firstborn, there is something
   besides grace; but I do not notice it here.

Surely this is beautiful: faith thus accepting the
decisions of grace. But in this, Jacob was also God's
oracle. He was not only in faith obedient to the
purpose or counsel of grace, but he was used of God
as a vessel of His house, used to declare His mind, to
represent and act His purposes in these mysteries of
grace, the *adoption*, and the *inheritance*, and the
*earnest*.

And as this vessel was thus so fully approving itself
fit for the Master's use, it is still used. We still see
him and hear him as God's oracle, as we enter chapter
xlix. He calls his twelve sons, and blesses them.
He delivers, under the Spirit, the words and judgments
of God touching them. But this was a very trying
moment to him. It exceeds all in what it cost
him. In preferring Ephraim to Manasseh, he suffered
something. But he, who did not then attend to
nature in his son, will not now attend to it in
himself. He goes through this sorrowful, humbling
scene, feeling it bitterly at certain stages of it; but he
still goes on with it and through it. He had now to
retrace, under the Spirit, and as the oracle of God, and
in their presence, the ways of his sons in past days,
and the fruit of these ways in days still to come. He
had to do much of this with a wounded heart, and
with recollections that might well be deeply humbling.
For these words upon his sons were a kind of
judgment upon himself for his past carelessness about
his children. But still he does go on and finishes his
service, as the oracle of God, and that too with such
sympathies and affections as give us some further
beautiful witnesses of his purified state of soul.

Levi's and Simeon's iniquity has to come before
him. But he resents this now in a way, no trace of
which we find in him in the day when that iniquity
was perpetrated. It troubled him then because of
the mischief which it might work for him among
his neighbours. "Ye have troubled me," said he, "to
make me stink among the inhabitants of the land,
among the Canaanites and the Perizzites: and I being
few in number, they shall gather themselves together
against me, and slay me; and I shall be destroyed, I
and my house." Chap. xxxiv. 30. This was the mind he
was in when he was a citizen in Shechem. But now it
is on other ground altogether, higher and purer ground,
that his soul refuses this iniquity. It was iniquity;
that is enough; and he will not let his honour be
united with it. Then he opens his eyes on the uncleanness
of Reuben, just to be shocked by it. And then,
as the backsliding of Dan is summoned up before him,
his whole soul is moved, and he is cast on the hope of
God's salvation, his only escape, the only escape which
he would own, from all that was around him, behind
him, or before him. "Dan shall be a serpent by the
way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse's heels,
so that his rider shall fall backward. I have waited
for thy salvation, O Lord."

What affections and energies are here! How finely
this vessel did its service in the house of God! Poor
David knew more than sorrow for the loss of Absalom
in the day of Absalom's fall. That slaying of his son
brought sin to remembrance. And here Jacob entered,
with full personal sympathies, into the counsels of
God, and had his own part and share in recollections
that must have stirred the conscience.

He not only announced these judgments of God,
but felt them. He was not a *mere* vessel, but a *living*
vessel. And he was faithful to Him that appointed
him, though the service was, after this manner, full of
humbling and bitterness.

We saw Jacob "dumb for a season." This we
noticed as the character of many years of our Patriarch's
closing life. But his mouth had now been
opened by faith; and once opened, God uses him
abundantly as His oracle. This is like Zacharias, the
Zacharias of Luke i. He also, as we know, had been
dumb for a season; but in faith he wrote his child's
name upon a writing-table, and then the Lord used
him as His prophet.

.. vspace:: 2

Here the story ends; but I believe we have gathered
the moral of it. The Lord's hand with Jacob tells
us how unwearied He is with His foolish and wayward
ones. It is *variety*, too, as well as *patience*, that we
see in this constant moral culture. Jacob had to learn
different lessons; and He, with whom he had to do,
set Himself in patient grace to teach them all to him.
Bethel, Peniel, Bethel again, and Beersheba, witness this,
as we have seen. And then, throughout a changeful
course, at home and abroad, in youth and in manhood,
among strangers or at the side of his father and his
mother, Jacob betrayed much that needed chastening,
and the lesson was taught him again and again.

He reminds us of the disciples in the days of the
Lord. In how many ways had the Lord to correct
and instruct them! And it was the same to the end;
and the patience of their divine Teacher was the same
to the end. The ignorance, the selfishness, the constant
moral mistakes they made and betrayed, the
different ways in which they crossed the mind of their
Master, all glorify the goodness that waited on them.
And it may remind us also of Him who bore with
Israel's manners in the wilderness for forty years.
And it may be also a remembrancer to ourselves of
much of that patience and grace which we are daily
experiencing at the same hand.

Discipline, the discipline of a child, is illustrated
in Jacob, as we observed at the beginning, ere we
began to consider his story, and as we now have seen
it to be. And discipline is healthful, and does good
like a medicine. If we need it, it is the *only* thing
for us. When in the days of Samuel, Israel asked
for a king, would it have been well for them, if the
Lord had given them David? The Lord had David
in reserve for them; but would it have been seasonable,
would it have been healthful for them, if David
had been given to them at once, when with a rebellious
will they were asking for a king? Surely, they
must first be made to know the bitterness of their
own way. A Saul must be given when Israel asks
a king. This was discipline, and this was the only
thing that would have been healthful for them. But
when they have tasted the bitterness of their own
way, in pity of their misery, the Lord will bring
out that which He has in reserve for them, the man
after His own heart that shall fulfil all His pleasure.

How perfect was all this! Had David been given
to Israel in the day of 1 Sam. xi. the whole moral of
the story would have been lost to us. But the love is
the same, whether it be discipline or consolation,
medicine or food.

This is the characteristic lesson we learn from the
story of our patriarch.

With Machpelah and his burial, Jacob then *ends*
these dying intercourses with his sons, as he had *begun*
them. xlvii. 29, xlix. 29. He had Joseph's word
and oath already on this matter, and now he must put
all of them under the same engagements to him about
it. Death was more important to him than life. Life
kept him in Egypt, death would restore him to Canaan.
Death linked him with the God and the promise of
his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and
outside Egypt. In spirit he was saying, Absent from
the body, present with the Lord; "Confident, I say,
and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to
be present with the Lord." As far as patriarchal faith
could utter this, Jacob was uttering it. And at the
very last we read, "When Jacob had made an end
of commanding his sons, he gathered up his feet into
the bed, and yielded up the ghost, and was gathered
unto his people."

It was surely no barren or unfruitful time he had
spent in Egypt. Though to him and to his hands
the business of life was all over, he was not *rusting*
out, as we had to say of Isaac. Jacob's silence was
husbandry. We rejoice in these last days as his best
days. We rejoice still more in the grace which provided
this pause for him at the end of his journey, that,
in the language of the Psalmist, he might recover
strength before he went hence, and was no more seen.

Gracious indeed is it towards all of us His elect
ones, to have such a sight as this, such a specimen
(may I so call it?) of divine patience, wisdom, and
goodness, as this. It is peculiar indeed, having its
own place amid the infinite forms and characters
which grace assumes in relation to the need of the saints.
Jacob's last days were his golden days. To others, to
their flocks and herds, Egypt was a land of Goshen;
but it was not to Jacob's flocks and herds, for we do
not read that he had any; but it was to Jacob's *soul*
that Egypt was a Goshen, the very richest, fairest,
best-watered land his spirit had ever enjoyed. It
was more really the gate of heaven to him than
Bethel had been. It was more the face of God to
him than Peniel had been. He had the Lord in
secret and in silence with him there, but in real,
living power. With all that would naturally have
kept him at home on the earth he was a stranger.
In Egypt Jacob was a delivered, extricated man, as
from the beginning and all through he had been a
chosen and a called one.

Are we learning that which God was teaching him
there? Are we seeking, with more single heart, the
portion of God's strangers and pilgrims, thinking
rather of Machpelah than of Egypt, of the rapture
that links us with the promise, than of all the daily
growing prosperity of this present evil world?

.. vspace:: 4

.. class:: center large

   _`JOSEPH`.

.. class:: center medium

   GENESIS XXXVII.-L.

.. vspace:: 2

Joseph becomes principal in the narratives of the
Book of Genesis as soon as we reach chap. xxxvii.,
and so continues, I may say, to the end. So that I now
propose to close with this paper on "Joseph," referring
to the others, entitled "Enoch," "Noah," "Abraham,"
"Isaac," "Jacob," as if they had been already read.

.. vspace:: 2

Joseph's story has its peculiarity in the midst of the
things of Genesis--its own mystery, and its characteristic
moral; as the others have. *Election*, as we
have seen, was illustrated in Abraham; *sonship*, or
the adoption of the elect one, in Isaac; *discipline* of
the adopted one in Jacob; and now in Joseph, *heirship*
is to be.

All this is a divine order.

And, consistently with this, in Joseph we get sufferings
before glories, or before the inheritance of the
kingdom; all this realizing that word of the apostle,
"If children, then heirs ... if so be that we suffer with
Him, that we may be also glorified together."

For while discipline attaches to us as children,
sufferings go before us as heirs; and this gives us the
distinction between Jacob and Joseph. It is discipline
we see in Jacob, discipline leading him as a child,
under the hand of the Father of his spirit, to a participation 
of God's holiness. It is sufferings, martyr-sufferings,
sufferings for righteousness, we see in Joseph,
marking his path to glories.

And this is the crowning thing; and thus it comes
as the closing thing, in this wondrous Book of Genesis--after
this manner perfect in its structure, as it is
truthful in its records. One moral after another is
studied, one secret after another is revealed, in the artless
family scenes which constitute its materials; and in
them we learn our calling, the sources and the issues
of our history, from our election to our inheritance.

Thus is it for our learning in this Book of Genesis.

.. vspace:: 2

But as yet, while we are in this Book, there is no
*law*. We are taught that this was so in Romans v. 13, 14.
But we might have perceived it for ourselves. Because,
in dispensational age, so to speak, the time of
this Book was the time of *infancy*. The elect were as
children who had never left home, never as yet been
under a schoolmaster.

Neither is there any *miracle*. I mean no miracle
by the hand of man. For power would no more have
suited such hands, than law or a schoolmaster would
have suited such an age. And, besides, there was no
mission or apostleship to seal. Miracles or "signs
following" were not demanded as credentials of a mission.
But as soon as we leave this Book, and enter
Exodus, we get a mission or an apostleship, and then
we get miracles, as seals, to accredit it.

So that what we do not get is just as fitting, from
its absence, as what we do get. Neither power nor
law would have been in season, and accordingly neither
power nor law do we get.

But I will now pass on to Joseph, or to chapters
xxxvii.-l.

The materials which we find in these chapters, and
which form the history of Joseph, may be separated
into four parts:

   1. His early times at home in his father's house, in the land of Canaan.

   2. His life, as a separated man, in Egypt.

   3. His recovery of his kindred, his father and his brethren, and the results of such recovery.

   4. His latter times in the land of Egypt till the day of his death.

This may be received as the contents of this wondrous
story. The way in which it is told has been witnessed
to by the sympathies and sensibilities of thousands of
hearts in every generation.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part I.` (xxxvii. xxxviii.)--As soon as we enter on
the history, the heir is at once and immediately seen
in Joseph. His dreams are dreams of *glory*. But
*sufferings* as quickly form his present reality.

The story begins by Joseph being a witness both *to*
and *against* his brethren. He tells his father of their
evil deeds, and he tells themselves of his dreams. I
cannot blame him in either. I say not how far nature
may have soiled him in the doing of these things; but
the testimonies themselves were, I believe, under divine
authority. There was One who was all perfection, as I
need not say, in everything He did or said, and He bore
witness against the world, and to His own glories. A
want of season and of measure may have soiled these
services in Joseph; for a thing out of season and beyond
its measure, though right in itself, has contracted defilement.
A vessel in the master's house, at times, has
to *hide*, as well as to *hold*, the treasure that is in it, and
should know where, and when, and how, to use it.
David had the oil of Samuel, the anointing of the Lord,
upon him, and he knew that the kingdom was to be his,
but he veiled his glory till Abigail, by faith, owned it.
And in this David may have surpassed Joseph. I say
not that it was not so. But to tell of what his dreams
or his visions in the Spirit had communicated to him,
was of God.

And hence his sufferings. The Lord marks him as the
heir of glory; he speaks of the goodness he had found,
and of the high purpose of God concerning him, and
his brethren hate him. They envy him; and who can
stand before envy? They had already begrudged him
his father's favour, and now they hate him for God's.
They hate him for his words and for his dreams; and
when in the field together (as of old, it had been with
Cain and Abel), they take counsel whether to slay him,
to cast him into a pit, or to sell him to strangers.

And this was at a time when he was serving them.
He had come a long way to inquire after their welfare,
and take their pledge, and to carry them blessings from
their father's house with their father's love. Such a
moment was their opportunity. It was not as the
bearer of good tidings that they received him; but
"Behold, this dreamer cometh," they say. "This is the
heir" (Matt. xxi. 38); that was the spirit of their words.
For envy they deliver them; for his love they are his
enemies; and at last they sell him to the Ishmaelites
for twenty pieces of silver.

There may be different measures in the common
enmity; but in a great moral sense they are all one
generation. Reuben was Jacob's firstborn, and we may
suppose that he judged himself more answerable to
the aged father for the lad, than any of them. He
saves Joseph from the sword, and Judah proposes a sale
of him to the merchantmen, in the stead of the pit.
After such manners as these there are measures in the
common enmity. As some said of Jesus, "He is a
good man;" others, "Nay, but He deceiveth the people."
In the parable of "the marriage of the king's son,"
some went to the farm, and some to the merchandize,
while others were taking the servants and killing them.
But the Lord speaks of all as of one generation. "The
*remnant* of them," He says, "took his servants and
slew them." The Judge of all the earth will surely
do right, and sins will get their many stripes and their
few stripes, but *the world* has cast out Jesus, and the
world is the world; as here, all are the guilty brethren
of Joseph; and, as the issue of their counsels and of
their common hatred, he is sold to the merchantmen,
and by them is carried down to the market of Egypt,
for further and profitable sale there.

It is the heartlessness of all this that is specially
shocking; and it is that which the prophet Amos,
under the Holy Ghost, so solemnly notices in his
reference to the affliction of Joseph. Chap. vi. And
we, though at this distant day, may take our share of
the rebuke of the prophet for like heartlessness, if we
can willingly love the world which cast out the true
Joseph. And what must we say, when we look on
the boasted advance of everything in that world, the
constant skill that is exercised in sweeping and garnishing
that house which is stained with the blood of
Jesus? The beds of ivory, the sound of the viols, the
wine, and the chief ointments, were never so abundant
as in these days. And if we can take up with life in
such a world, are we true, as we ought to be, to the
cross of Christ? A heartless heart we have, and a
heartless world we live in, as it is heartless brethren
of Joseph we are here looking at. One knows it for
one's self full well; and surely, I may again say, it is
this heartlessness that is principally shocking to ourselves
(if one may speak for others), as it was to the
Spirit in Amos. We are not "grieved for the affliction
of Joseph," we are not true to the rejection of Christ.
*Worldliness is heartlessness to Him.*

What depths there are in the corruption that is in
us! As here, they dipped the favoured coat, the coat
that the old father had put on Joseph, they dipped it
in blood, and sent it to their father with these words:
"This have we found: know now whether it be thy
son's coat or no." This is the language of Cain: "Am
I my brother's keeper?" Cain was laying the burthen
of Abel's blood on the Lord, intimating by these words
that the Lord should have been Abel's keeper, seeing
He had had such respect to him and his offering. So
these words of Joseph's brethren seem to lay the burthen
of Joseph's blood upon the aged father, who, if
he loved him as well as this coat seemed to say he did,
should have looked after him better than this blood
seemed to say he had.

What depths, indeed, in the revolted, corrupted
heart of man! What discoveries of these depths
temptation makes at times! They sinned, in all this,
against their aged father, and against their unoffending
brother, at a time when the love of the one had counselled, 
and the love of the other had undertaken, a
mission to them of grace and blessing; as is said of a
generation which they represent both morally and
typically, "They please not God, and are contrary to
all men."

Dark deeds indeed! Joseph's blood is upon themselves,
let them seek to hide it as they may; and the
day is before them when their sin shall find them out,
and this blood upon Joseph's coat shall be a swift
witness against them. For the present they do but
prosper in wickedness, that they may fill up their
measure. The course of Joseph's history is interrupted,
that we might get this sight of them during
Joseph's separation from them. Chap. xxxviii. affords
it to us. And it is indeed apostasy, full departure
from "the way of the Lord," in which Abraham had
walked, and in which he had commanded his children
and his household after him to walk. Judah deals
treacherously, marrying the daughter of Shuah. The
way of the Lord is utterly despised and forsaken by
Judah. Still grace gets pledge here. Pharez is a
second supplanter. The hope of Israel is in the womb,
a blessing is in the cluster; but truly it is such a
cluster of a wild vine as might well be doomed to
the sickle, if sovereign, abounding grace did not say,
Destroy it not. Isa. lxv. 8; Matt. i. 3.

And such is the sin of the nation of Israel, as of
this, their own father Judah; and such the grace in
which the nation shall stand in the latter day. Grace
shall then reign in the story of Israel, as it now does in
the person of every saint, elected in the sovereign good
pleasure of God, and made a monument of the saving
power of Christ.

We may not be prepared for this grace of God in
some of its surpassing exhibitions. We may be less
prepared for it than we think. Jonah was not, Ananias
was not, Peter was not. Jonah iv.; Acts ix. and x.
We are not always practised, skilful weigh-masters in
the use of the balances, the weights and measures of
the sanctuary. Are the heartlessness of chap. xxxvii.,
and the defilement of chap. xxxviii., and that, too,
when found together, too bad? I ask. After all this
are we prepared for "repentance and remission of
sins" in the grace of God? The moral sense, the
natural conscience, self-righteousness, the laws of
society, and the judgments of men, supply us with
false weights and measures, and we carry them about
with us more than we are aware of. But they are an
abomination. Deut. xxv. 16. In our thoughts, the
way of the harlot and the publican are worse than the
easy, respectable course of the world. Had we the
balances of the sanctuary, we should assay things
otherwise. "That which is highly esteemed among
men is abomination in the sight of God."

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part II.` (xxxix.-xli.)--In these chapters, which give
us the second part, according to our division, we have
the life of Joseph while he was a separated man in the
land of Egypt.

During this time we shall see the beginning of his
day, or his exaltation. But ere that come, we are to
witness his further sufferings--his sufferings at the hand
of *strangers*.

We may, somewhat naturally, have the thought that
*the Jew* is specially guilty, as far as the moral history of
this world goes--specially answerable for sin against the
Lord. But in this we are not fully wise. The Jew had,
indeed, a special hand in the sorrows of Christ; and,
nationally, Israel is under special judgment. But the
Gentile is a distinct, not a different man. The ministry
of our Lord Jesus tested "the world," as well as "His
own." The record touching the cross is this, Of a truth
against thy holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed,
both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and
the people of Israel, were gathered together. Acts iv.
All were guilty there. As the apostle of the Gentiles,
in his doctrine, says, the whole world has become
guilty before God. Jew and Gentile are all alike
proved under sin. Rom. iii.

Our present chapters suggest this. Joseph's affliction,
begun among his brethren, is now continued among
strangers. His brethren had already hated him, and
put him in the pit, and thence taken him to sell him
as a bond-slave; an evil woman of the Egyptians now
falsely accuses him, and he is put in prison, and then
another Egyptian, whom he had served and befriended,
forgets him and leaves him. But, however it may be
with him, whether at home or abroad, God is with him.
This becomes the very characteristic of his history.
Chapter xxxix.; Acts vii. For, in His way with His
elect, God's *sympathy* comes first, and then His *power*,
the sympathy which accompanies them through their
sorrow, and then the power which delivers them out of
it. We are prone to desire present ease, and would have
all inconvenience and contradiction removed at once.
But this is not *His* way. When at Bethany "Jesus
wept;" and afterwards, but not till afterwards, He said,
"Lazarus, come forth." Nature would have had the
death, which had called forth the tears, anticipated.
We judge that we might have been spared many a
trial, and we reason it out as a clear, unquestioned
conclusion, that God had power. As the friends of
the family at Bethany said, Could not this man, that
opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even
this man should not have died? But they reasoned
imperfectly, because they reasoned partially; that is,
only on the *power* of Christ.

We ought to (and we should, had we but bowels in
Christ) very chiefly value the age or dispensation of
His sympathy; it gives *Himself* to us in so peculiar a
way. And this sympathy was eminently Joseph's, in
this day of his affliction. As we said, that "God was
with him" is characteristic of his condition. And he had
abundant evidence of this. As soon as he is in Potiphar's
house, all under his hand, committed to him by his
master, prospers. And change of scene works no change
in this; for as soon as he is in prison, the same record
we read of him, and the same circumstances we see
around him. The keeper of the prison puts the same
confidence in him that Potiphar his master had; and
under his hand in the prison all things prosper, as they
had in the Egyptian's house. So that Joseph had full
witness from God, that God was sufficient for him.

It was not for such an one to leave the help of the
Lord for the help of the creature. But Joseph craves
the remembrance and the sympathy of the butler, and
would have him give him a good word with the king
his master.

This was natural. Joseph had befriended the butler
of the king, and such an one was able to befriend
him. His craving of his sympathy is not to be condemned
on any natural, human, or even moral grounds.
But whether it was quite worthy of *Joseph* to do so
may be questioned, whether it was quite the way which
*faith* would have suggested.

And it comes to nothing. The butler, as we know,
forgets him, and he is left for two long years in the
prison. For God will still be everything to him.
Help shall come, but it shall come from Himself. With
the Lord, the heaviness of the night is sure to yield to
the joy of the morning; and ere this season of his
separation from his brethren came to an end, Joseph is
released, and blessed, and honoured. It becomes the
budding-time of his glories.

Excellent things indeed are found in the condition of
the separated Joseph, such things as bear our thoughts
to Him who is the greater than Joseph. I would just
observe four of them.

1. There is great *moral beauty* in him. He was a
Nazarite then, as pure an one as Daniel in like circumstances,
a captive among the uncircumcised, maintaining
his circumcision, his separation to God, unspotted.
2. There is *precious spiritual gift* in him. He was a
vessel in God's house, carrying the mind of Christ, and
ministering that mind as an oracle of God; like Daniel
again, interpreting dreams, and making known even to
kings, though still in his day of humiliation, what was
coming upon the earth. 3. There is the *right hand of
power and dignity for him*. He is seated nearest the
throne, and put in possession of those resources on
which his own brethren, who had cast him out, and the
whole world beside, are destined ere long to depend for
preservation in the earth. 4. There is *joy, peculiar
joy, prepared for him*. The king makes a marriage
for him, and he becomes the head of a family among
the Gentiles; and this is a source of such joy to him,
that he can, in some sense, as the names of his
children tell us, forget his kindred, and even rejoice
in his affliction.

Surely these are excellent things found in the condition
of Joseph while separated from his brethren.
And in them we see the Lord Himself in this present
age, the season of His separation from Israel. A child
might trace the likeness; but He, who reveals to babes
and sucklings, has led the way in this. In Stephen's
wondrous word, in Acts vii., we get Joseph and others
put in kindred place and circumstances with the Lord,
who is there called "the Just One." And this is so
full of interest, that though it be but incidental, we
must turn aside for a little, and listen to that great
voice of the Spirit of God.

.. vspace:: 2

Stephen appears but for a moment in the course of
the divine history; but it is to fill a very eminent and
distinguished place. The occasion on which he is seen,
and on which he acts, is full of meaning. Jewish enmity
was again doing its dark deeds, and the God of
glory was again disclosing His brighter purposes.

Stephen is another witness of the Lord passing from
earth to heaven, leaving the earth for a season in its
unbelief and apostasy, and calling out a people for
heavenly places.

Stephen's was another separating era. Abraham's
had been such, and so had Joseph's, and so had that of
Moses, and that of "the Just One," Jesus. The occasion
of the separation from kindred to strangers, (and
that is, from earth to heaven,) may be different, but it
is alike separation. Abraham was separated, because
God was leaving a defiled world unjudged; and unjudged
defilement God cannot make His habitation, nor
allow it to be the habitation of His elect. The world
after the flood had defiled itself, and the Lord was
leaving it in its defilement, not purifying it by a
second flood; and therefore He becomes a stranger in
it Himself, and calls His elect out of it with Him.
Thus Abraham is a separated man. Joseph in his day
was another; separated from home and kindred, like
Abraham; and so Moses. But Joseph and Moses were
not separated like Abraham, simply by the call of God
out of unjudged defilement, but by the enmity and persecutions
of their brethren. And so Jesus, "His own,"
and the world made by Him refused Him, and
would not know Him. Wicked hands slew Him, and
the heavens received Him. And so Stephen.

Stephen is, thus, in company with these separated
ones, Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and "the Just One."
And he is naturally directed by the Spirit, to go over
their histories in this wondrous chapter. And these
separated ones have, at different eras or intervals, in the
progress of God's way upon earth, marked out or foreshadowed
His higher or richer purposes touching heaven.
For their times, as we speak, were *transitional*.

Stephen's was such. Till his day, the scene in "the
Acts of the Apostles" is laid in *the earth*. In chapter i.
the risen Lord had spoken to His apostles of "the
kingdom of God." In the same chapter the angels had
withdrawn the eyes of the men of Galilee, as they call
the disciples, from gazing up into heaven, under the
promise that Jesus should return to earth. When the
Holy Ghost is given, as in chapter ii., under His baptism
it is of things in the earth that the apostles speak.
They testify that Jesus was to sit at the right hand of
God in heaven, till His foes on earth were made His
footstool. They then preach, that upon the repentance
of Israel Jesus would return to earth with times of
refreshing and restitution, and that He was exalted to
give repentance and remission of sins to Israel. Israel
is, thus, the people, and the earth the scene, contemplated
in the action or testimony of the Spirit in the
apostles in these earliest chapters.

But Jewish enmity again takes its way, as it had
done in many other days, even from the beginning; and
divine grace takes its way also, as it had also done in
such other days. And Stephen, under the Spirit of
God, takes such a moment as his text. He looks back
at the way of the nation, uncircumcised in heart and
ear, resisting the Lord in one or another of His witnesses;
and he looks back also at the way of the God
of glory calling into new and peculiar blessing those
whom either earthly pollution or Jewish enmity was
separating or casting out.

Thus his own condition at that moment was his
text, just as the condition of things in chapter ii. had
been Peter's text. Peter preached from the gift of
tongues; Stephen, as I may say, from his own face
then shining like the face of an angel, and from the
enmity of the Jews that was then pressing him and
threatening him. The Spirit in Stephen takes up the
moment. It was a transitional moment. It was the
hour of the shining face and of the murderous stones,
of the earth's enmity and of the still brighter, richer
discoveries of grace calling to heaven. And Stephen
looks back to other histories, histories of other elect
ones, who had already filled up kindred moments in
the way of God. For the people of the earth are now
withstanding God in him, as they had withstood Him
in others. As he tells them, they were always resisting
the Holy Ghost; the children and the fathers were
alike in this, throughout all generations of the nation.

Thus, in Stephen, we are called to witness another
great transitional moment. It is such a moment in the
Book of the Acts, as Joseph's was in the Book of
Genesis. This links Stephen and Joseph, and gives
natural occasion to the Holy Ghost in Stephen to make
reference, as He does, to Joseph. But if the earth is
refusing Stephen a place, as his brethren had refused
Joseph a place in the land of his fathers, heaven shall
open to Stephen. Grace in God shall be active as
enmity in man is active--and the eater shall yield
meat. And heaven does therefore open in Acts vii.
A ray from thence finds its way out, and gently yet
brightly falls upon the face of Stephen, as the people
of the earth were casting him out. And thus sealed
from heaven and for heaven, he speaks of heaven, and
heaven itself opens to him, and then the Holy Ghost
Himself guides his eye right upward to heaven, and
then his spirit is received of the Lord Jesus into
heaven. All is heaven. Stephen gets the pledge
or earnest of it first, then the sight of it in its wide-opened
glories, and then his place in it with Jesus.

Nothing can exceed, while still in the body, the
brightness of such a moment. It was the Transfiguration
of the Book of the Acts of the Apostles. It
was beyond the measure of the patriarch's Bethel; for
here the top of the ladder was disclosed, and Stephen
was taught to know his place to be there with the
Lord, and not at the foot of it merely with Jacob.
The moment was transitional, which the time of Genesis
xxviii. was not. It had its forecasting rather in the
rejected, outcast Joseph finding his richer joys and
brighter honours among the distant Gentiles in Egypt.
Or rather, if we please, Joseph's history and Stephen's
history, are, each of them in its day and its different
way, the foreshadowing and the pledge of that glory
and inheritance in heaven to which the Church, the
election of this age, is called.

Simply and necessarily, therefore, are Joseph and
Stephen linked together, as we find in Acts vii. Each
of them filled the same transitional place--more
vividly marked indeed in Stephen, and properly so--but
each of them filled it. All was new and heavenly,
as we have seen, with Stephen. It is not *downwards*
but *upwards* he is commanded to look. The angels
had told the men of Galilee in chapter i. to take their
eyes off from heaven; the Spirit Himself bade Stephen,
in chapter vii., to direct his eye right up to heaven.
The glory of the terrestrial had been one, the glory
of the celestial is now another. Even the gift of
Tongues had not pledged heaven to the disciples in
chapter ii. There was no transfiguration then, no
face shining like the face of an angel. The Holy Ghost
was upon the assembly in Jerusalem, but the assembly
itself was not in sight of heaven as its home and
inheritance. But Stephen was on the confines of the
two worlds. His body was the victim of the enmity
of man's world, his spirit was about to be received
amid the glories of Christ's world. He was rejected
by his brethren, accepted by God. All was transitional--and
fitly does he look back to Joseph and to Moses,
who had been in such a place before him.

And here let me say, suggested by this allusion to
Joseph and others in Acts vii., that we are not to be
surprised by this typical or parabolic character of Old
Testament histories. Quite otherwise. We ought to
be fully prepared for it; and that, too, on a very simple
principle. God, acting in these histories (we speak to
His praise) acts in them (surely) *according to Himself
and His counsels*. And, consequently, these histories
become so many revelations of Himself, and of the
purposes He is bringing to pass.

An assurance of the inspiration of the narrative
does not, therefore, in the full sense, give us *God* in
the narrative. There is purpose as well as veracity in
it--there is an "ensample" as well as inspiration.
"These things happened to them for ensamples."
They happened as they are recorded. There is historic
truth in them. But God brought them to pass, in
order that they might be "ensamples;" and till we
find this ensample, that is, the divine purpose in the
history, we have not got God in it. We are to go to
these narratives, be they those of Joseph or any other,
very much in the mind with which the Prophet had to
go to the house of the potter. Jer. xviii. He was to
see a *real work* there; vessels made by the hand and
skill of the workman. But there was a *lesson* in the
work, as well as a reality. There was a parable in
it; for the Prophet had to see God Himself at the
wheel, as well as the potter. So in these histories
which we get in Scripture. There is reality in them,
exact truthfulness, such as inspiration secures. But
there is meaning also; and till we discover that, and
learn God and His purpose in the history, we have not
really as yet gone down to the potter's house.

But this is only by the way, suggested by the use
which the Spirit Himself, through Stephen, makes of
the Old Testament stories of Abraham, Joseph, and
Moses, in that marvellous chapter, Acts vii.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Part III.` (xlii.-lvii.)--We now come to Joseph's
recovery of his father and his brethren, and its consequences.

Among the things which gave character to Joseph
and his circumstances, while he was separated from
his brethren, we observed this, that he was put into
possession of those resources on which his brethren
themselves and all the world beside were to depend for
preservation in the earth. The set time for the world
drawing on these resources has now arrived; and with
that, the set time for Joseph's restoration to his
brethren.

Joseph is now in authority. His day of humiliation
and sorrow is over. He is at the right hand of the
throne of Egypt, and the great executor of all rule
and power in the land. None can lift up hand or foot
without him. He has received the king's ring, and he
rides in the second chariot. He is the treasurer and
dispenser of all the wealth of the nation, the one who
opened or shut all its storehouses at his pleasure.
He that *was* in the pit *is* on the throne.

This is Joseph *as* in resurrection. I say *as* in
resurrection. For the thing itself--resurrection from
the dead--had to wait for the day of the Son of the
living God, who was to be, in His own person, alive
from the dead. But though we could not have "the
very image" of this great mystery, yet we have
"shadows" of it, both in certain ordinances of the
law, and in certain histories of the elect. The dead
and the living birds of Leviticus xiv., and the two goats
of Leviticus xvi., are among such ordinances; and such
historical scenes as the unbinding of Isaac from the
altar on Mount Moriah, or Jonah's deliverance from the
whale's belly, set forth the same. And so does this
season in Joseph's history, being the day of his power
and authority in Egypt after his sore troubles in the
pit and in the prison. It is Joseph *as* in resurrection.

The Spirit of God, in chap. xlix., using Jacob as
His oracle, looks back at Joseph in this condition, and
celebrates him accordingly. "Joseph is a fruitful
bough, a fruitful bough by a well; whose branches run
over the wall: the archers have sorely grieved him,
and shot at him, and hated him: but his bow abode in
strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong
by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob." And
having spoken this of Joseph, the Spirit uses it as
a figure of a Greater than Joseph; for Jacob adds,
"From thence is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel."
We have Christ in Joseph. The risen Christ is seen
as in a figure here. All power is now in Him, in
heaven and on earth. He is seated at the right hand
of the Majesty on high. His title to the resources of
creation is sure, sealed by the dignity of the place He
now fills. And the resources which He now *owns*,
by-and-by He will *use* for Israel and for the whole
earth, after the pattern of this mystery of Joseph.
This we are now about to see.

The famine begins, and the opening of Joseph's
storehouses begins, at the close of chap. xli. But the
scene is then changed for a season; and the story of
the brethren's repentance and acceptance is let in, as
a kind of episode. But there is wonderful beauty in
this. Because the restitution of all things waits, as
we know, for the repentance and fulness of Israel.
So that this introduction of the new matter, by way of
an episode, in chapters xlii.-xlvi., is full of beauty and
meaning; and the scene in Egypt, and the full opening
of Joseph's stores for that land and the whole earth,
are resumed in due season afterwards, in chapter xlvii.
For, "what shall the receiving of them be, but life from
the dead?" asks the apostle, tracing, under the Spirit,
the story of Israel. Rom. xi. "If the fall of them be
the riches of the world, and the diminishing of them
the riches of the Gentiles, how much more their
fulness?" So that we are prepared for this repentance
of the brethren going before the full blessing
of the earth.

Over this operation, this process of the softening of
their hearts under the hand of Joseph, it would be
impossible not to tarry for a while. I must therefore do
so. Our own hearts would need something, if we were
not alive to this scene, to admire and enjoy it, and be
thankful for it; so full is it of the most exquisite touches
of true affection, so profound in the disclosure of the
moral principles of our nature, and so important in the
sight it gives us of the workmanship of God by His Spirit
leading sinners, through conviction and the sense of
their ruined state, to repentance and newness of life.

.. vspace:: 2

The scene of this workmanship of God is laid in a
season of need and sorrow, as is common in the ways of
the God of all grace. For He does not refuse to be sought
by us, when we have no help for it. It was thus with
the prodigal; it is thus with Joseph's brethren; and it
will, I doubt not, be found by-and-by to have been thus
with a goodly portion of those who are to praise His
name in glory for ever. The prodigal had no help for
it, and back to his father and his father's house he must
go. Joseph's brethren have no help for it now, and
down to Egypt and Egypt's storehouses they must go.
Mean it may be, base it may be, in the heart of man
thus to turn to God, when all else is gone. But the Lord
will be found by this base and selfish heart. He will
condescend to enter, as some one speaks, by these
despised doors of nature. For twenty long years
Joseph's brethren had lived easy and prosperous, with
goods laid up, and blessings plentiful around them, and
Joseph and his sorrows had all been forgotten. For a
time the prodigal had his money, the portion of his
father's goods that had fallen to him; and with his
money, as long as it lasted, he took his pleasure, his
back turned upon his father. But famine touches "the
far country" and "the land of Canaan," and then,
whether they will or not, the father's house and Joseph's
stores must be sought. See Hosea v. 15.

Thus the scene opens, and Joseph's brethren come
down to Egypt to buy food.

As soon as Joseph saw them, he knew them. He
"remembered the dreams which he had dreamed of
them." But upon this he at once set himself to the
task of restoring their souls. See xlii. 9.

Strange, and yet beautiful and excellent! His dreams
had merely exalted him above them. Had he sought,
therefore, simply to make good those dreams when he
thus remembered them, he might at once have revealed
himself, and, as the favoured sheaf in the field, or as
the sun, the ruling sun, in the heavens, have had them
on their faces before him. But to restore their souls,
instead of exalting himself, becomes at once his purpose.
This was the counsel he took in his heart, as he surveyed
the moment when he might have realized his own
greatness and their humiliation, according to his dreams.
How truly excellent and blessed is this! There was One,
in after-days, who, when He took knowledge that He
had come from God and went to God, and that the
Father had put all things into His hands, rose and girded
Himself, and began to wash His disciples' feet. The
knowledge of His dignities only led Him to wait on the
need of His saints. Who can speak the character of
such a moment? But Joseph here, in the far distance,
reminds me of it. "He remembered his dreams," dreams
which exalted him, and that only; and yet he turns
himself at once to the defiled feet, the guilty hearts, the
unclean consciences, of his brethren, that he might heal,
and wash, and restore them.

Strange, again I say. There was no connection
between such remembrance and such action, save as
grace, divine grace, of which Joseph was the witness,
is known; save as the Jesus of John xiii. is understood.

"Joseph remembered the dreams which he dreamed
of them, and said unto them, Ye are spies; to see the
nakedness of the land ye are come." This was taking
them up for the good work (though the process be
humbling and painful) of restoring their souls. The
conscience must be faithfully dealt with, if anything
be done. And Joseph aims at it at once. He makes
himself strange to them. He speaks to them by an
interpreter, and he speaks roughly. He must get
their conscience into action, let it cost himself in
personal feeling what it may. His love, for the
present, must be firm; its hour for melting and
tenderness is before it. It shall be *gratified* by-and-by;
it must *serve* now. In the day of their sin they
had said of him, "Behold, this dreamer cometh;" and
now, in the day of their conviction, he says of them,
"Ye are spies; to see the nakedness of the land
are ye come." They had once sold their brother, when
their heart knew no pity; now, with all peremptoriness
which knew no reserve, one of themselves is taken and
bound. But all this was only, in the purpose of grace,
to fix the arrow deep in the conscience, there to spend
its venom, and there to lay the sentence of death.
And this is done. When God acts, the power of the
Spirit waits upon the counsel of love. If they be
bound in fetters, and be holden in cords of affliction;
then He sheweth them their work, and their transgressions
that they have exceeded. Job xxxvi. "We
are verily guilty concerning our brother," they all say
as with one conscience, "in that we saw the anguish
of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not
hear; therefore is this distress come upon us."

This was something; it was much; but Joseph has
still to go on with the *service* of love. Had he consulted
his *name* at the first, when he remembered his
dreams, he would have revealed himself at once, and
stood forth as the honoured one in the midst of his
confounded, humbled brethren. Had he now consulted
his *heart*, he would have revealed himself, and been
the gratified one on the bosom of his convicted, sorrowing
brethren. But he consulted neither the one nor
the other. *Love was serving*; and the husbandman of
the soul has, at times, like the tiller of the ground,
need of "long patience," and has to wait for the latter,
as for the early rain.

This was a happy and promising, because it was a
*real* beginning. But Joseph has yet to learn whether
the heart of children and of brothers were in them,
or whether they were still, as once they had been,
reckless of a brother's cries and of a father's grief.
He therefore exercises them still. Roughness and
kindness, encouragements and alarms, challenges and
feasts, favours and reproaches, all are used and made
to work together. Though indeed all is much the
same in the reckoning of a guilty conscience. Jesus
is John the Baptist raised from the dead in the apprehensions
of it. A shaken leaf is an armed host in its
presence. Kindness and roughness alike alarm. They
are afraid because they are brought into Joseph's house.
They fear where no fear is. But all is working repentance
not to be repented of; and the fruit meet for this
is soon to be brought forth.

Joseph lays a plan for fully testing whether indeed
a child's heart and a brother's heart were now in them.

As they are preparing the second time to return to
Canaan with food for them and their households,
Joseph's cup is put in Benjamin's sack--as we all
know, for it is a favourite story--and they set out on
their journey. But this, simple as it seems, is the
crisis. Their own lips will now have to pronounce
the verdict; for the question is now about to be put,
whether they are as once they were, or whether a
heart of flesh has been given to them. Will the sorrows
of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph
once failed to do? Will the grief of the aged father
at home plead with their heart, as once it did not?
This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again.
They were returning, in spirit, to the place where all
their offence was committed. In the field of Dothan,
in chap. xxxvii., they had to say, Would they sacrifice
their innocent brother Joseph to their lusts, their envy,
and their malice? Here, when Benjamin is claimed
as a captive because of the cup found in his sack--claimed
as one who has forfeited life and liberty to the
lord of Egypt--it is in like manner put to them to say
whether they would sacrifice him, and return on their
way home, easy and careless and satisfied.

Nothing can excel the skill of the wisdom of Joseph
in thus bringing his brethren back, morally and in
spirit, to the field in Dothan. The same question is
raised here as there, and put to them solemnly. Judah,
he whom his brethren shall praise, gives this question
its answer. They were innocent, indeed, touching
the cup. But this is nothing to their consciences, and
nothing on Judah's lips. Conviction loses sight of
everything but sin. Its offence is its object. "I acknowledge
my transgressions, and my sin is ever before
me." The brethren might have spoken of their innocency,
and been somewhat hurt, that, after this manner,
they were again and again misunderstood and charged
falsely. They had been called spies when they were
true men, and now they were handled as common
thieves, though they were honest men. They might
have said this was too bad. They could bear a good
deal, injurious speeches and hard usage, but to be dealt
with thus, was something too much for flesh and blood
to put up with. But no--nothing of this--this was
not Joseph's brethren now. They had once hid their
guilt under the lie which they sent to their father, now
they are willing to hide their innocency touching the
cup under the confession they make to Joseph. Judah
stands forth to represent this new mind in them.
Guiltless they were indeed in all these matters, from
first to last; neither spies nor rogues; but some twenty
years ago they had been guilty of what this stranger in
Egypt (as they must have supposed) knew nothing, but
which God and their consciences knew. They may be
innocent now, but they were guilty then; and their
sin, and that only, was now before them. Confession,
and not vindication, is their language. "What shall
we speak?" says Judah. "How shall we clear ourselves?
God has found out the iniquity of thy
servants."

Joseph for a moment feigns as though all this was
nothing to him. This may be their business, if they
please, but Benjamin was his. Benjamin is the guilty
one, as far as the great man in Egypt is concerned;
he must remain, and the rest may take themselves
home as fast as they please. "The man in whose
hand the cup is found, he shall be my servant; and as
for you, get you up in peace unto your father."

What could exceed this? I ask. Did Solomon's
wisdom in settling the question between the two
harlots exceed it? Did he, in a spirit of judgment
befitting one who sat in the place of judgment, find
out the heart of a mother? and does not Joseph here,
in like wisdom from God, find out the heart of his
brethren? It is all beyond admiration. The heart is
indeed laid open. After these words from Joseph,
Judah draws near, and with the bowels of a son and
a brother pleads for Jacob and for Benjamin. "The
lad" and "the old man" are the burthen of his words,
for they were now the fulness of his heart. He will
abide a bondman to his lord, only let "the lad" go
back to "his father." Let but the father's heart be
comforted, and Benjamin's innocency preserve him,
and Judah will be thankful, come to himself what
may.

This is everything. The sequel is now reached, the
sequel which had been weighed from the beginning.
The goodness of God had led to repentance. Joseph
was exalted indeed; the sheaf had risen and stood
upright; but "this was all the fruit, to take away
their sin." So Christ is now exalted, as we read, to
be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel,
and forgiveness of sins. Acts v. 31.

And now the veil may be rent, and it shall be rent.
Joseph will be made known to his brethren.

But this was a moment hard to meet and to manage.
The re-appearing of one whom they had hated and
sold, and the remembrance of whom had been so deeply
stirring their souls, might be overwhelming. He must
attemper this light to their vision, lest it prove intolerable.
But love is skilful, and has its methods and
its instruments ready for occasions. "I am Joseph,"
he says to his brethren; but in the same breath (as
the common word among us is) he adds, "Doth my
father yet live?"

Exquisite indeed, in the way of grace, this was, and
perfect in the skilfulness of love. Joseph could have
answered this question himself. Judah's speech (the
echo of which was still in his ears, for it was too precious
to allow him to part with it) had already told
him, that the father was still alive. But Joseph
hastened to bring a third person into the scene. He
could not allow the servants or officers of the palace
to be present then; for this would be to expose his
brethren. And yet to be alone with himself he dreaded
as enough to prove too much for them. And therefore
he must bring some one in, to share that moment with
them; and such an one, the very best of all, was he
whom Joseph's word introduces.

Perfect indeed in its place this was. It calls to my
mind the scene at the well of Sychar. "I that speak
unto thee am He," says the Lord to the woman who
had just by His means been discovered to herself in
all her old crimson sins. It was not merely, "I am
He," but "I that speak unto thee am He." In these
words He reveals His glory. He stands before her as
Messiah, who could, as she had said, tell all things,
and who had now, as she had proved, really told all
things, such things as were terrible in the hearing of
an awakened conscience. But He reveals it in company
with the sweet, condescending, inviting grace of
one who was sitting and talking with her. And this
was the title of her soul to find freedom, where she
might have expected to be overwhelmed. And she
did find it.

What skilfulness in the ways of love! From its
precious stores, I may say, in well-known words--

   |
   |  "There sparkles forth whate'er is fit
   |    For exigence of every hour."

We only want to trust it more, and assure ourselves
of it.

And there is more of this in Joseph still.

Shortly after this he has to say again to them, "I
am Joseph," and to add to it, "whom ye sold into
Egypt." But then he goes at once through a long
tale of God's purposes in all that matter, and lets them
know how important to Pharaoh, to Egypt, and to the
whole world, as well as to them and to their households,
his ever having left home was about to be.
Love does not give them opportunity to occupy the
time with thoughts of themselves. Joseph crowds
a multitude of other thoughts upon their minds--and
he kisses them and weeps with them.

Pharaoh's people may now, after all this, return and
share the scene with them. They can now see, in
these visitors from Canaan, not Joseph's persecutors,
but his brethren. They are introduced to the palace
only in that character. As in the parable of the
prodigal. The father will see him in his misery; and,
while yet in rags and hunger and shame, kiss him and
welcome him; but the household shall see him as a
son at the table. "Cause every man to go out from
me," had been Joseph's word, when he was going to
make himself known to them; but now, the house of
Pharaoh shall hear that Joseph's brethren have arrived.
The spirit of that blessed One whom we learn in the
Gospels breathes in all this. We are in John iv. and
in Luke xv. when in Genesis xlv.

.. vspace:: 2

There are occasions in the story of human life
which *the heart* claims entirely for itself. The Lord
met such, as we all do at times. There was constant
faithfulness in His dealing with the disciples. He did
not let their mistakes pass. He was rebuking them
very commonly, because He loved them very perfectly,
and was training their souls rather than indulging
Himself. But there did come a moment when faithfulness
must yield up the place, and tenderness fill it.
I mean, the hour of *parting*, as we get it in John xiv.-xvi.
It was then too late to be faithful. Education
of the soul under the rebukes of a pastor was not to go
on then. "O ye of little faith," or "How is it that ye
do not understand?" was not to be heard then. It
was the hour of parting, and the heart had leave to
take it entirely into its own hand.

Now a time of *reconciliation* is, in this, like the
hour of parting. The heart claims it for itself. Tenderness
alone suits it; faithfulness would be an intruder.
And thus we find it with Joseph here. He wept aloud,
so that the house of Pharaoh heard it. He wept on
the neck of all his brethren and kissed them, fell on
his brother Benjamin's neck and wept, and kissed him.
And if he spoke in the midst of his tears, it was only
to encourage their hearts, and give them pledges and
reasons why they should be in full confidence and ease
before him. [#]_

.. [#] Neither Pharaoh, nor Pharaoh's house, nor any in Egypt seem
   ever to have been told of the sin of the brethren.

Surely I may claim these rights and privileges for
the hour of *parting*, and for the hour of *reconciliation*.
And this was so, as we see, in this time of Joseph's
restoration to his brethren. But when all this is over,
and he has introduced them to Pharaoh and the palace,
and they are in readiness to return to Canaan, in full
preparation to bring their aged father into Egypt to
Joseph, when they are just standing, Benjamin with
them, and Simeon with them, and all was the exultation
of a favoured and prosperous hour, one word of warning
would not be out of season, and Joseph has it for
them, "See that ye fall not out by the way." "Simon,
son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" addressed the heart
of Peter much in the same spirit, and at a kindred
moment, when the reconciliation, as I may call it, had
been accomplished, and Peter's unbroken net had
gathered 153, and he had dined with his denied Master
on the sea shore.

.. vspace:: 2

Surely the whole of this, from first to last, is perfect.
There is a moral magnificence in Scripture which
makes it, of a truth, the chiefest, as we may say, of
the works of God. The Spirit breathes in it all. Its
tenderness, its grandeur, and its depth, are alike His.
In the issue of the story of Joseph and his brethren
we see something that is very excellent. The rights
and the wrongs of Joseph, the claims which he had
made, and the injuries he had endured, were all wonderfully
answered. Whatever dignities his dreams had
pledged him, he gained them all in full measure. Whatever
wrongs he had suffered, they were all avenged in
the very way his own heart would have chosen. The
judgment of their sin against him was executed in the
bosoms of the brethren themselves; not a hard word
touching it passed his lips from first to last.

These were the issues of both the rights and wrongs
of Joseph. "This also cometh forth from the Lord of
hosts, who is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in
working."

.. vspace:: 2

But I must look back at all this for another moment.
Conviction of conscience may be but natural, the
ordinary necessary working of the soul, the absence of
which would be resented as the evidence of a seared
or hardened state. But when it is more than the
mere stirring of the soul under the authority of
nature--when the Spirit of God has produced it--He
takes His own object or instrument to work by.
David, under the convicting Spirit, says to God,
"Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done
this evil in Thy sight." And thus will it be with
Israel in the day of their conviction; for their conscience
will then be linked with the once rejected,
crucified Jesus. As the Lord says by the prophet, I will
pour upon them the spirit of grace and of supplications:
and *they shall look upon Me whom they have pierced*,
and they shall mourn for Him, as one mourneth for
his only son, and shall be in bitterness for Him, as one
that is in bitterness for his firstborn. This is conviction,
when the Spirit of God takes that business out
of the hand of nature into His own hand. This is
conscience doing its work, as the apostle speaks, "in
the Holy Ghost." In such a day, under such authority
and power, Israel will address themselves directly to
Jesus. Isaiah liii. shows us the same in another form.
And precious work this is in the soul--*needed* work
still in each of us.

Now this is seen in Joseph's brethren. Another has
noticed it already in a general way. But it is deeply
worthy of notice. It was their sin against Joseph they
called to mind in the day of their distress. "We are
verily guilty concerning our brother," they say, "in that
we saw the anguish of his soul, when he besought us,
and we would not hear." Other sins might have been
present to the conscience then. Reuben might have
thought of the defilement of his father's bed, Simeon
and Levi of their blood-shedding and treachery, and
Judah of his marriage; but, stirred into life, not merely
by the trouble which had come upon them, but by the
Spirit, they are mindful of the *common* sin, and speak,
as with one conscience, of their wickedness touching
Joseph. And it is this which bespeaks the Spirit's work
in this conviction.

Needed work, again I say, this is in every one of
us. But the *fountain* has to do its work as well as
the Spirit of grace. Joseph, as we saw, interpreted
his sorrows, though at their wicked hands, very differently
from what their fears and guilt had interpreted
them. They said, and very rightly, "we are verily
guilty concerning our brother;" he says, and very
truly, "God did send me before you, to preserve life."
And this is the gospel. We are convicted, but saved.
We learn that we have destroyed ourselves, but that
in Him is our help. The blood meets the spear. The
fountain is opened in those very wounds which our own
hands have inflicted. And this will be the experience
of the Jewish election (whose history that of these
brethren foreshadow, as we know) in the day of Isaiah
liii. and Zechariah xiii. The cross is the witness. Faith
stands before it, and there learns *ruin* and *redemption*.

.. vspace:: 2

In the progress of this wondrous story, the reconciliation,
as we have now seen, is accomplished. Joseph
has received his brethren; and all is therefore ready for
Israel's full blessing. Restoration must follow conversion.
Times of refreshing and restitution must
come upon Israel's repentance. The aged father, with
his household and flocks, is brought from Canaan, and
with his sons presented to Pharaoh, and they are
seated in the very best of the land, the land of Goshen
in Rameses.

They were told that they might leave all their own
stuff *behind* them, for all the good of the land of Egypt
was *before* them. And so it proved to be. Their
empty sacks had come down to Egypt at the first to
be made full, and they were still to prove that there
were a heart and a hand there, both equal and ready to
give without measure, and the emptier they came down
the fuller they would learn this.

They were but shepherds, it is true, and such were
an abomination to the Egyptians. But Joseph "is
not ashamed to call them brethren." Strangers they
were, and pensioners; but the man of that day, the
lord of Egypt, again I say, was "not ashamed to call
them brethren." He owns them in the presence of the
king, of the palace, and of the nation. And the king
proves to be of the same mind. That they were
Joseph's brethren was enough for Pharaoh. Truly
this has language in our ears. A day is at hand, when
all this shall be made good in the great originals of
Christ and Israel. He will return to them and say,
"It is my people;" and they will say, "The Lord is
my God."

.. vspace:: 2

But though this is great and excellent, it is not
all. The earth itself has to be settled and blest, the
inheritance has to be received and displayed, as the
brethren, the Israel of Christ, had to be thus quickened
and restored; and this we are now to see. Joseph in
chapter xlvii. becomes the upholder of the world in
life and order. By him life is preserved in the earth,
and order maintained. And all the people are made
willing in that day of his power. All is right that
Joseph does, in the eyes of all the people. Their
money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves, are
made over to Pharaoh; and yet all pleases them, for
they owe their lives to Joseph. Egypt, in those days,
was a sample of the new world, the world brought
back to God by *redemption*. It was a "purchased
possession," just what the millennial earth is to be.
Eph. i. 14. It was creation reconciled, delivered from
the doom of famine, from death and the curse, by the
hand of a saviour. Joseph's corn had bought the land,
the cattle, and the people. All was under Pharaoh in
a new character, as a purchased possession, standing in
the grace of redemption. Pharaoh, who had been king
of the country, is king of the country still; but he has
another, a redeemer of the land and people, associated
with him now, as once he had not. As in millennial
days. What a picture has the hand of God drawn
for us here! what a pledge have we here, yea, what a
sample of the earth in the days of the kingdom!

.. vspace:: 2

Pharaoh had trusted Joseph, and Joseph had pledged
Pharaoh, in earlier days, when as yet nothing was
done. Ere the word of Joseph began to be accomplished
Pharaoh had seated him in dignity and power,
given him a wife from among the daughters of the
excellent of the land, and put upon him a name that
told already to all who read it, what he thought of him,
and how he received him. [#]_ And Joseph, in the confidence
that all would be according to the interpretations
which God had given him to deliver, accepted all
this at Pharaoh's hand; and then, but not till then, the
plentiful years came, one after another, to make good
the pledges of Joseph to Pharaoh, and to vindicate all
the honours which had been conferred by Pharaoh on
Joseph. See chap. xli.

.. [#] Zaphnath-paaneah, in the old Egyptian tongue, is said to have
   signified "the saviour of the world"; in the Hebrew, as we understand,
   it might be rendered "the revealer of secrets."

Precious notices of all that which finds its originals,
its counselled and eternal reality, in the secrets which
have been between God and His anointed! We have
only to bow and worship; and as we gather the spoils
and riches of the word of God, to rejoice and be
thankful. "I rejoice in thy word as one that findeth
great spoil." "I have rejoiced in the way of thy testimonies,
as much as in all riches."

It was fitting that we should have this sample of
the new world, or the coming millennial condition of
the earth, in the history of Joseph; for, as we said
at the beginning, he is the *heir*, set to represent such
an one in the grace of God, after his fathers had
told out, each his several part, in the same fruitful
and abounding grace. *Election*, as we have seen, we
got in Abraham; *sonship*, to which election predestinates
us, in Isaac; *discipline*, to which sonship
introduces us, in Jacob; and now, *the heir and the
inheritance* which follows, closing the mystery which
grace has counselled, and closing likewise the Book of
Genesis, in Joseph.

There is no speech or language here, but a voice is
heard, clear, full, and harmonious, by the ear that is
awakened. And as we look back on Joseph alone, we
see a page of sacred story, full of Jesus; a *rejected*
Jesus first, a *risen and ascended* Jesus then, and now
at the end, a *millennial* Jesus, Jesus in His inheritance
and kingdom.

"Known unto God are all His works from the
beginning of the world." But what we do not get
teaches us this as surely as what we do. He has
formed the light and the darkness. "The day is
thine, the night also is thine." In all this passing
and magnificent exhibition of the inheritance, there
is one whom we might have expected to see *chiefly*,
and yet we see her *not at all*. Asenath the wife is
not found here. She and her children get no portions
in this great settlement of everything in the land;
they are not so much as seen or mentioned. Is it
that they were forgotten? That could not be. But
she was the heavenly one, the wife given to Joseph
from among the Gentiles in the day of his separation
from his kindred, and her portion is more excellent
than what the land in its best condition could afford
her; it is in him and with him who is the lord and
dispenser of it all. Asenath is lost in Joseph; or, to
be seen only in Joseph.

And thus the *full* end is told at the beginning;
for all this in the Book of Genesis is "the dispensation
of the fulness of times," when God shall gather together
all things in Christ, both which are in heaven and
which are on earth. And surely it is happy, beloved,
in the sight of the world's present confusion, in the
midst of the agitation of human thoughts which is ever
around us, to learn in the mouth of such witnesses, that
the end is thus before Him, and has been so from the
beginning. "The counsel of the Lord standeth for
ever, the thoughts of His heart to all generations."
His people and His purposes are alike before Him;
and such truths comforted the apostles, when they
found themselves in the midst of church disappointments.
See 2 Tim. ii. 19.

:small-caps:`Part IV.` (xlviii.-l.)--This is rather, I might say, an
appendix to the history, than the fourth part of it. It
is made up of a few detached actions in Joseph's latter
days.

The first thing, however, which we get is kindred
with what we have seen to be the characteristic of the
history itself. Chapter xlviii., which opens this fourth
part, shows us the bestowing of the birthright upon
Joseph; and the birthright and the inheritance are, in
some sense, one.

In Israel, or under the law, the birthright carried
the double portion. The firstborn was to have a double
share of the father's goods; and the law enjoined that
this should be his by an indefeasible title, a title that
was not to be challenged. The double portion was not
to be given to any other child of the family on any
ground of personal affection or partiality whatever.
Deut. xxi. 15-17.

But though this were so, the birthright might have
been either sold or forfeited by the firstborn himself.
His own acts might alienate it, though his father's
partialities or prejudices could not. And we find this
to have been the case. Esau sold it, and Reuben forfeited
it. Genesis xxv.; 1 Chron. v. In the case of the
sale of it by Esau, Jacob who bought it, of course, had
title to it. The bargain and sale made it his. That
is clear. But in the case of the forfeiture of it by
Reuben, who is to take it? It reverted to the father;
but on which of the sons would he confer it? That
was a question, and it is that question which this chapter
answers. It presents us with the solemnity of the
aged father, dying Jacob, investing Joseph with the
birthright which Reuben his firstborn had forfeited.

Upon hearing of the illness of his father, Joseph
comes to his bedside, bringing his two sons, Manasseh
and Ephraim, with him. None of the other sons of
Jacob are present. The Spirit of God, through Jacob,
has a special business with Joseph.

Jacob begins the action by reciting to Joseph the
divine grant of the land of Canaan. This was a setting
forth of the family estate, the property which he had
to leave among his children. He then *adopts* the sons
of Joseph; for this was needed to the investing of
them with the rights of children, inasmuch, as, in a
great legal sense, they were strangers to Abraham.
Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed,
therefore, whom the law would, in its day, have put
away. Ezra x. 3. But Jacob adopts them. He takes
them into the family. "And now," says he to Joseph,
"thy two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh, which were
born unto thee in the land of Egypt before I came unto
thee into Egypt, are mine." They are constituted of
the seed of Abraham, and made children of Jacob; and
this being done, Jacob at once sets them in the place
of the firstborn; for he adds immediately, "As Reuben
and Simeon, they shall be mine."

This was a solemn act of investiture, by which the
rights of the eldest, the double portion which attached
to the birthright, passed over to Joseph in the persons
of his two sons. See 1 Chron. v.; Ezek. xlvii. 13. [#]_

.. [#] The title now bestowed was afterwards realized, when the family
   estate, the land of Canaan, came to be divided between the tribes; for
   Joseph then gets two portions in his two sons, who are treated as though
   they had been two distinct sons of Jacob.

But we have still to ask, Why was Joseph thus preferred?
The forfeited right had reverted to Jacob, and
from his hand it had to be disposed of afresh. But
why was it given to Joseph? Was this merely grace?
I could not say so. Grace, I know, on this great occasion,
takes its way; and were we duly emptied, we should
delight in the way of grace, even though we ourselves
might get, in its distributions, only a left-hand or
Manasseh blessing. But while all this is so, I still
question whether it were *merely* grace which thus
conferred the rights of the eldest son upon Joseph.

I rather judge that Joseph *earned* it. If Jacob aforetime
bought it, Joseph, I believe, had now earned it.

We have already, in the history, tracked his path to
the inheritance. It was the path, like that of his divine
Master, whose shadow in the distance he was, of sorrow
and rejection and separation, and yet of righteousness
and testimony. And this path had ended with praise
and honour and glory in the kingdom or inheritance;
and the birthright is kindred with the inheritance.

It is, therefore, easy for us to say, as we have said,
that Joseph earned the birthright. Judah earned the
royalty, Levi the priesthood, and so Joseph the double
portion. And his father gave him a pledge, "an earnest
of the inheritance," which was characteristic of this; for
at the end of this action Jacob says to him, "Moreover
I have given to thee one portion above thy brethren,
which I took out of the hand of the Amorite with my
sword and with my bow." This was an earnest. But
not only so; it was a *sample* also. It was characteristic.
It spoke of the inheritance as it was to be in the hand
of Joseph. This portion had been *won*, and so had
Joseph's. The sword of Jacob had gained this parcel
of ground, as the patience of Joseph had gained the
inheritance and the birthright; and it is according to
this that the dying father afterwards celebrates him.
"The blessings of thy father have prevailed above the
blessings of my progenitors, unto the utmost bound of
the everlasting hills: they shall be on the head of Joseph,
and on the crown of the head of him *that was separate
from his brethren*." Or as Moses, the man of God, says
of him, "Let the blessing come upon the head of Joseph,
and upon the top of the head of him that was separated
from his brethren."

The apostle speaks of "the reward of the inheritance,"
words which may not sound as if they exactly suited
each other; for the inheritance is of grace, and reward
is of work. So the Lord speaks of giving "a crown of
life," words which may also sound in the ear as somewhat
discordant; for life is of grace, and a crown is a reward.
But the soul accepts these things, and makes no difficulty
of them. "All purchased and promised blessings be
with you," said the dying martyr to his wife. And he
spoke wisely, as he did blessedly; for blessings in one
sense are all purchased; in another, promised or given.
As a sweet hymn, which we all know, has it--

   |
   |  "Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared,
   |    Unworthy though I be,
   |  For me a *blood-bought free reward*,
   |    A golden harp for me."

And Joseph, I judge, got the birthright or the inheritance
in this way. It was in his hand "the reward of
the inheritance." It was a bought thing, and yet a
given thing; an earned thing, and yet a free thing. We
see grace in the bestowment of it upon him, but we
see also the fruit or issue of that path of martyr-sorrows
which he, and he alone, of all Jacob's sons,
had trod in patience and in triumph.

This action, therefore, is in full company with the
leading character of Joseph's history. We see the heir
in him, and with that the right of the firstborn, the
double portion, with its earnest, "the earnest of the
inheritance," made over to him, in the action of this
chapter.

.. vspace:: 2

In the next chapter (xlix.) Joseph is only one of the
many sons of Jacob--Jacob the father being principal.
Joseph and his brethren are together under the eye and
before the thoughts of the dying patriarch, who was
led of the Spirit to tell them what should befall them
in the last days. This I take no further notice of here,
but refer to the history of Jacob, where I have already
considered it.

.. vspace:: 2

In the last chapter (l.) Joseph is again principal; not,
however, so much mystically as personally; that is,
not as the *heir*, but as the *man*. We see Joseph himself
here, his character and his virtues, rather than the
lord of Egypt, his place and his dignities. And considered
personally, he is perhaps the most attractive
character in the book of Genesis. There is more of
the fruit and force of godliness in him than in either
of his fathers. We have in him the steadiest, most
consistent walk in the ways of God. There is less
elevation, I am sensible, than in Abraham, as of course
there is less exercise of spirit than in Jacob; but
through all circumstances, trials, honours, changes, he
is still the man of God who walked in His fear and
before Him. His history is not made up of failures and
recoveries, or a doing of first works over again. It is
a path of light, if not of such light as shines more and
more unto the perfect day, yet of light which shines
clear and calm and constant. In his history we have
not angelic visits, nor apparitions of the Lord, or audiences
of divine oracles; but in Joseph himself we have
a vessel used of God, because approved of Him; a very
precious thing with God. It is not Peniel or Beersheba
again, occasional refreshments and illuminations, but
rather an abiding witness within, so that he knew the
way of God, and kept it. "Until the time that *his
word* came, the *word of the Lord* tried him." The
authority which Egypt, in due season, owned in him,
he had before owned in the Lord. He was the obedient
one himself, and then became the one set in authority.
He continued as with Christ in His temptations, and
then he was appointed to a kingdom. Subjection was
his path to honour, the due path of all the heirs of the
same kingdom.

But there are some peculiarities in the story of
Joseph beyond this. We do not find the altar and the
tent with him, as we do with his fathers. Because it
is not strangership in the earth that we see in him, but
the inheritance or the kingdom, after suffering and
humiliation. It is not the tent of his fathers that we
see in his history, but the pit and the prison, which
were his alone, and not his fathers'. The tent and the
altar may duly be the symbols of their calling; the pit
and the prison first, and then the throne, become the
symbols of his.

And as another peculiarity, we may observe that the
Lord is never called the God of Joseph, as He is called
"the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the
God of Jacob." But this, likewise, we may account
for. Joseph was rather among the *sons* than the *fathers*.
The covenant was not made with him, as it had been
with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; nor was any one set
aside in order that he might have the blessing. The
covenant was made with Abraham separated from
country, kindred, and father's house. It was renewed
with Isaac, to the setting aside of Ishmael. It was
renewed again with Jacob to the setting aside of
Esau. But it was not renewed with Joseph; for he
was only one of the sons of Jacob, and they were all
alike interested in it; they were all the seed contemplated
by it; and Joseph was no more of that seed
than either of the others. So that we have no ground
for the characteristic title, "the God of Joseph." For,
while grace was displayed in the call of Abraham, and
then again in the choosing of Isaac the younger, and in
the choosing of Jacob the younger, it was displayed in
Joseph only in its common measure in behalf of all the
seed, a measure that reached to others as to him. [#]_

.. [#] God is afterwards called "the God of Israel," as before He had
   been called the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob. Because
   His covenant was with the nation of Israel.

Thus Joseph takes his place in our sight, and we
look at him either *morally* or *mystically*; with his
characteristic virtues, or in his peculiar typical place.
But we have not quite done with him yet.

He was, I would now add, *a great weeper*.

Paul says that he was "mindful" of Timothy's tears;
and there were many tears in the eyes of Joseph which
we might well be mindful of. David and Jonathan
were weepers, as well as Paul and Timothy. But were
I careful to do so, I might claim it for Joseph, that he
exceeded them all. The occasions of his tears were
more various. And indeed it is an earnest, real, and
hearty flow of affections that we have to covet in the
midst of the more cultivated and orderly attainments
of this day. Tears are ofttimes precious things, and
sometimes sacred too.

At the beginning, when Joseph saw conviction
awakening in the conscience of his brethren, he wept.
These were tears both of sorrow and of joy. He felt
for them passing through the agony; but he must have
rejoiced to see the needed arrow reaching its mark, and
the bleeding of the wounds that followed.

He wept again when he saw Benjamin. The son
of his own mother, her only child besides himself,
whose birth too had been her death, and the only one
in the midst of his father's children (who were all
then before him) who had not been guilty of his
blood. Such an one as this was at that moment seen
by him in Benjamin. These tears, therefore, nature
could account for.

He wept again as he saw the work of repentance
going on in his brethren. In his way, he greatly longed
after them; till at the last, Judah's words were too
much for him; conviction of conscience had then ended
in restoration of heart. "The old man" and "the lad"
again and again on the lips of Judah had eloquence
which prevailed, and Joseph could no longer refrain
himself. He sobbed aloud, and the house of Pharaoh
heard him. But these were more than the tears of
nature. This was the bowels of Christ, or the tears of
the Father upon the neck of the prodigal.

Each of these weepings was beautiful in its season;
but we have more still.

He fell on his father's face, and wept, as his father
had just yielded up the ghost. This was as the grave
of Lazarus to Joseph; and there he and his Lord can
weep together.

And again he wept, when, after his father's death,
his brethren began to suspect his love. He was disappointed.
An unworthy return to the ways of a
constant, patient, serving love, made him weep--in
the spirit of Him, I may say, who wept over Jerusalem.
For years had he been doing all he could to win
their confidence. He had nourished them and their
little ones. Years had now passed, and not one rebuke
of them do we find either in his life or in his ways.
Grief over their departed father had just freshly given
them to know what common affections they had to bind
them together. He had supplied them with every
reason to trust him. And yet, after all, they were
fearing him. This was a terrible shock to such a heart
as Joseph's. But he did not resent it, save with his
tears, and renewed assurances of his diligent, faithful
love. And have not such tears as these, I ask, as fine a
character as tears can have? They were as the pulses
of the aggrieved spirit of the Lord. "How long shall
I be with you?" "Why are ye fearful?" "Have I
been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not
known Me?" These were kindred pulses of an aggrieved
heart in Jesus. Jesus has *sanctified* tears, and
made them, like everything else that went up from
Him to God, a sacrifice of a sweet-smelling savour;
Joseph and David and Paul, yea, Jonathan and Timothy
too, have made them *precious*, and put them among the
treasures of the Spirit in the bosom of the Church.

.. vspace:: 2

Such an one was Joseph, and in such company we
put him; again, I say, perhaps the most attractive
character in the Book of Genesis. We see in him the
grace and blamelessness that we get in Isaac, the
"piety," as we speak, marking him in all his relations
in life. But withal, there was combination which we
do not find in Isaac. There was firmness--energy as
well as sensibility.

It remains for him to do the last office of this piety
to the memory of his father; and he does it, we need
scarcely say, in all grace and faithfulness. He buries
his father, as his father had willed it, in the land of
Canaan. But the whole is conducted with much
solemnity--and the occasion is such, that we must
wait upon it for a little moment.

.. vspace:: 2

In other days, worship was a magnificent ceremonial.
Temples, altars, feasts, holy days, sacrifices, and the like,
furnished it, and officers of different orders, in appropriate
vestments, conducted it. Because in those days
worship pointed onward to certain great mysteries
which had then to be realized. But now these mysteries
have been accomplished in the manifestation of
Christ, His person, work, sufferings, and victories--so
that gorgeous worship is now but a reproach on all
that which is found in Him, in its full substance and
efficacy.

So as to funerals, as well as worship. In other days
they were to be gorgeous. Because resurrection was
then only in prospect; and funerals then were a kind
of pledge of the expected resurrection; and it was
fitting that the pledge should be magnificent according
to the glory of that which it pledged. But now, since
resurrection has been realized in the person of the
Lord Jesus, the Son of God, the gorgeous funeral,
like the ceremonious worship, is rather a reproach, as
though the great mystery itself had not been yet
realized in its substance and efficacy. For it is not
funereal pomp which is now the pledge of our coming
resurrection--the resurrection of the Lord is that, the
first-fruits of a promised harvest.

Accordingly, worship and funerals are now, in like
simplicity, to bespeak the Church's faith in *accomplished*
mysteries. We are now in sight of the victory
of the Lord Jesus. We no longer give or receive
pledges of it, as in ordinances, but we celebrate it.
Joseph of Arimathea gave His body a costly burial,
as Joseph the son of Jacob here gives the body of
his loved and honoured father. We read of Jesus:
"He made His grave with the wicked, and with the
rich in His death." In that day of Joseph of Arimathea
the grave had not been spoiled; and pledges therefore--like
pledges with these in the day of the Patriarch--might
still be given. But in the burial of the Lord
Jesus we properly see the last of these pledges;
because in Him we see the first-fruits of them that
slept. The grave-clothes and the napkins lie in the
empty sepulchre as spoils of a glorious war, and trophies
which tell of glorious victory. Death was overthrown,
and faith now celebrates what offices and usages, as well
as ordinances and ceremonies, had once only pledged
and foreshadowed. And let me add, that faith did
learn this lesson, for the burial which followed that of
Jesus had neither its embalming nor its magnificence.
It was shortly disposed of, reverently withal, and lovingly.
"Devout men carried Stephen to his burial,
and made great lamentation over him."

Had we faith, deeply should we prize all this. Our
privileges are great indeed. In the services of the
house of God now, the table has succeeded the altar,
and instead of a sacrifice we have a feast upon a sacrifice.
And so have we to see death and burial, too, in
the light of the resurrection of Jesus.

These things we notice in connection with Jacob's
funeral. His death has its moral operation in the
family, bringing out (as is often the case when the
head of a family is removed) what before was not
suspected to be there. But I must meditate on this
for a while.

.. vspace:: 2

The simplicity of patriarchal *faith* is very remarkable.
It was like their manners--beautiful from their
artlessness. There was nothing of the spirit of bondage
in the Genesis-saints. The patriarchs walked in the
assurance of this, that God was their God, His promises
their portion, and the city and land of the glory their
inheritance. They lived and died in this spirit of faith.
No suspicions or reserves, no questionings, no mistrust
of grace, defiles their souls. And this is surely
the more strange because, while we nowhere among
them trace this spirit of bondage, we see it everywhere
else, immediately after we leave the Book of Genesis,
and then all through Scripture. It would be vain to
follow all the notices of it which Scripture furnishes.
It works naturally and abundantly in us. Surely we
know it in ourselves, and see it in all around us.

How is it, then, that it does not betray itself in the
Patriarchs? Was it because they were such constant
witnesses to themselves of the grace and election of
God, and had never heard the voice of the law? This
helped to form their minds, we may be sure. But
besides this, this absence of the spirit of bondage was
beautifully consistent with their dispensational standing;
for they were as children who had never as yet
been from home. They were in infancy, and they
could no more move in the presence of God in a spirit
of fear and uncertainty, than a child, ere he left home,
could be tempted to question his title to the nurture
and shelter of his father's house. And it is of the
moral beauty and perfection of this infant Book of
Genesis that we see this child-like, unquestioning faith
in the saints of God there. They are faulty, and that,
too, at times, through want of faith, when certain circumstances
press them; but their souls are never
defiled by a spirit of mistrust and bondage. We see
this throughout--at least till we reach the moment
when we are taking leave of the Book, and have gone
beyond what is properly the patriarchal character of it.
I mean, in Joseph's brethren, as soon as Jacob's funeral
is over.

It then appeared that they had not been trusting
their brother with a guileless, happy confidence. There
had been an object of common interest between them,
and that had been too much the secret of their confidence,
instead of Joseph himself. They had not
boldness by reason of what Joseph was, and of what
he had done, but they had trusted in a circumstance.
Jacob's presence was the stay of their hearts. They
had repented; they had been convicted and quickened;
but still, their confidence did not honour Joseph, as
Joseph had richly deserved at their hands.

And this may have a word for us. We may ask
ourselves, if countenance and fellowship of others
were withdrawn, would it be found that our whole
confidence has all along been in Jesus? that we have
so learnt grace, that we can abide the presence of
unveiled glory? that the removal of a Jacob clouds not
the atmosphere in which our souls have been dwelling?

.. vspace:: 2

But we are now reaching the very end of the times
of Joseph. However, ere we witness his death, we
have (seasonable for us to notice this in this eventful
day of ours) a fine instance of *faith's acquaintance with
the course of the world's history*.

I do not speak of a *prophet's* knowledge of what is
about to be among the nations, such as Daniel had,
when he told of the rise of one beast after another, and
of the Great Image from its head of gold down to its
toes of iron and clay. Such knowledge was by the
*Spirit*, the Lord filling the heart of Daniel, and of
others like him, with His own light. I speak only of
*faith's* knowledge of that course of things which the
history of the nations is to take.

Joseph says to his brethren, "I die: and God will
surely visit you, and bring you out of this land unto
the land which He sware to Abraham, to Isaac, and to
Jacob."

The children of Israel were at that time very happy
in the land of Egypt. They were in the full favour of
the king; they were in possession of the richest district
in the country, and they saw one of themselves the
second person in the kingdom. Not a single symptom
of danger or of change appeared in all their condition.
And Joseph himself was as happy as circumstances
could make him. "He saw Ephraim's children of the
third generation; the children also of Machir the son
of Manasseh were brought up upon Joseph's knees."

But in the midst of all this, Joseph speaks of *God
visiting them*; words which bespeak days of sorrow to
be at hand, such days as that God would then be their
only friend and helper.

Strange this was, very strange! Who could believe it?
Was Joseph dreaming? statesmen and politicians might
have said. But no; Joseph was not dreaming. God's
word was his wisdom. The divine oracle in chapter xv.
had forewarned, that Egypt would afflict Israel, but that
God would befriend them, and bring them back to
Canaan--and this word from God was everything to
Joseph, was everything to faith--appearances were
nothing. The oracle had spoken it. Joseph believed it
and remembered it. And thus by faith Joseph saw
Israel's *affliction* in the day of Israel's brightest promise
and prosperity--he saw Egypt's *enmity* in this day of
Egypt's friendship--he saw *brick-kilns and task-masters*
in the fair fields and sunny harvest of Goshen. As
Noah, by like faith, had once seen a deluged world
during 120 years of successive sowing times and reaping
times, vintages and summer gatherings, times of buying
and selling, planting and building.

This was faith's acquaintance with the coming course
of things. And faith, in this our day, is to be a like
politician, and to know something of the course of things
by the light of God's word, in the face of all appearances.
And this is the only act in Joseph's life which is
recorded as of faith in Heb. xi. It is thus strikingly
distinguished in the midst of so many acts of faith and
godliness, and of such a course of walking with God, as
we have seen in him. But it was worthy to be thus
signalized. It was a great witness of Joseph's living
upon the word of God, in the midst of the world's
attractions and occupations, and with a mind superior
to all present appearances. Abraham had been instructed,
through divine visions and audiences, about this
coming history of Israel in Egypt; Joseph only used
what Abraham had received. We have no visits of the
Lord to Joseph, as we have to Abraham. Joseph, if
you please, was not in Abraham's elevation. But we
have in him what is morally the chiefest, the light and
certainty of a believing mind, the apprehensions and
decisions of faith. He remembered what Abraham had
heard, and he acted on what he remembered. What he
wanted in personal elevation, as an oracle of God, he
had, in moral power, as a believer in God. And if I
must needs choose between them, I would rather *believe*
than be *inspired*. And Joseph believed, when, as we
read, "he made mention of the departing of the children
of Israel, and gave commandment concerning his bones."
Heb. xi. 22. This was *faith's political knowledge*, as I
may speak--faith's acquaintance with the things which
were coming on the earth. And this is that which
made a Noah or a Joseph wiser than all the senators of
the kingdoms. We know well how Joseph's words were
vindicated, and how very unlooked for brick-kilns
defiled the goodly lands of Goshen, and task-masters
drove Israel to their work. Just as before, in Noah's
day, waters covered the very tops of the mountains,
and a ship, apparently in all folly built for dry land,
was soon the only ark of safety in a watery world.

And I do ask, Is it not to be thus with faith still?
Have we not warrant, by faith in the word of God, to
know the course which this world, with all its growing
refinement and varied progress, is taking every hour?
Have we not reason to know that it is on its way to
judgment? Indeed we have. The Lord Jesus has
been rejected in this world. That is the fact which
gives the world its character with God. No advance
in civil order and cultivation, no spread of even His
own truth among the nations, can avail to relieve the
world of the judgment that awaits it because of this
deed. Let the day be as bright as was the day of the
Egyptian Joseph to Israel, faith knows that "the
polished surface" is soon to be broken up. Circumstances
never give faith its object. It is the word of
God that does that; and circumstances and appearances
are not to be allowed to take the eye of faith off its
object. The house, swept and garnished as it is at
present, promises much. So did the land of Rameses
and the friendship of Pharaoh, in the days of Gen. 50.
But such promises are idle words in the ear of faith;
it regards them not. As Jeremiah said to the king
of Judah, when the allied army had arrived, and the
hostile army had broken up and gone away, "Deceive
not yourselves;" so faith says, in this hour, to the
generation that is boasting in progress, "Deceive not
yourselves." Faith says this with boldness; for well
it knows, that the last state of the swept and garnished
house is worse than the first.

Joseph then gave proof that he believed what he
testified. Like Jacob, his heart was in Canaan, the
land of the covenant, the land of his father's sepulchres.
And, like Jacob, he took an oath of his brethren, saying,
"God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my
bones from hence." The unseen world was the real
thing with him, as it had been with his fathers. The
call of God had linked them all with that which lay
beyond death, and their thoughts and their hearts were
there before themselves. It was as natural for them to
die as to live.

"Joseph died, being an hundred and ten years old."

His brethren, the children of Israel, were true to
him, as he had been to his father Jacob. They embalmed
his body at once. Afterwards, Moses carried
it with him out of Egypt; and, at the last, Joshua
buried it in Shechem in the land of Canaan. See
Gen. 50. 26; Ex. xiii. 19; Josh. xxiv. 32.

.. vspace:: 2

We thus close the story of Joseph, and with it the
Book of Genesis, the book of the creation and of the
first ways of God, the book also of the patriarchs, the
earliest families of the children of men, and the infant
age of the elect of God.

We are sensible, I think, when we leave this book,
that in some sense we are getting on lower ground. I
think this will be generally felt.

In Genesis, the Lord is rather *manifesting Himself*;
afterwards He is *exposing man*. Man was not under
law, as we have said, during the times of this book.
He was set to learn God under many and different
expressions and revelations of Himself. But as soon
as law enters, and that is very quickly after we leave
this book, man is necessarily brought forward, and we
have to see him, not simply as under the call of God,
but in his own place and character. And surely this is
enough to make us sensible of being, in some sense, on
lower ground. Of course, in the unfolding of counsels,
in the bringing forth of God's resources upon man's
failures, and in the further manifestations of God
Himself upon the exposure of man, we are advancing
all through the volume from beginning to end.

But, all-various and wondrous as these counsels are,
which get their disclosure as we proceed through
Scripture, let the wisdom of God be never so manifold,
as we know it is, yet we may say, every part of it gets
some notice or foreshadowing in this Book of Genesis.
These are faint and obscure; but the rudiments of
the whole language are found in this introductory and
infant lesson. Atonement, faith, judgment, glory, government,
calling, the kingdom, the Church, Israel, the
nations, covenants, promises, prophecies, with the
blessed God Himself in His holiness, love, and truth,
the doings of His hand, and the workmanship and
fruits of His Spirit, all these and the like appear in
this book. Creation was displayed at the beginning.
Soiled and ruined under the hand of man, redemption
was published. The heavens and the earth are then
shown to be the scenes of redemption (as they had
been at the first of creation) in the histories of *Enoch*
and *Noah*. And then in *Abraham*, *Isaac*, *Jacob*, and
*Joseph* we get man (the leading subject of redemption,
as of course he is) in his election, adoption,
discipline, and inheritance. These mysteries have been
looked at in this series, and they lie under the eye,
and for the observation of our souls, as we pass on
from one of these histories to another.

And let us learn to say, beloved, to His praise who
has spread out such living creations before us, that if
the heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament
showeth His handiwork, so with no less clearness and
certainty do the pages of Scripture bespeak the breathings
of His Spirit.

.. vspace:: 4

.. _`JOB`:

.. class:: center large

   THE BOOK OF JOB.

.. class:: center large

   JAMES v. 11.

   |  "Behind a frowning providence
   |    He hides a smiling face"

.. vspace:: 2

May surely be said, upon the reading of this deeply
affecting story. Said, too, with peculiar fitness and
fulness of truth, as though the thought of the Christian
poet had been suggested by the tale of the inspired
historian. The frown was specially dark and lowering,
the smile behind it brilliantly beaming and happy.
The veil was very thick, but the glory within very
bright. The boastings of the Lord in His servant
were above the noise of all the water-floods.

   |
   |  "The bud may have a bitter taste,
   |    But sweet will be the flower"

may as surely be the motto for the story also. For let
us wait only for a little, and the fruit of the travail
will be precious beyond all expectation. Very bitter
indeed was the bud, but very sweet indeed was the
flower. It had to ripen under the pruning of the
sprigs and the taking away of the branches (Isaiah xviii.
5), but it tells, in the end, the skill and patience of its
divine husbandman. I would, however, rather trace
some of the principles of this beautiful Book, than
thus at the beginning more largely anticipate the moral
of it.

Resurrection, called by the Lord "the power of God,"
or, at least, one of the ways of that power (Matthew
xxii. 29), has been made known, through different witnesses,
and in divers manners, from the very beginning.
And connected as it is with redemption, the great
principle of God's way and the secret of His purposes,
it must have been so.

It was intimated in the creation of the beautiful
scene around us, for the world itself was called forth
from the grave of the deep. The material was without
form, and darkness was upon the face of it, but light
was commanded to shine out of darkness, and beauty
and order were caused to arise. See Hebrews xi. 3.

It declared itself in the formation of Eve. Then
again in the earliest promise about the bruised Seed
of the woman. It was kept in memory in Seth given
in the place of Abel whom Cain slew; and then again
in the line of the fathers before the flood. But still
more illustriously was it published in Noah. "Every
thing in the earth shall die," says the Lord to him,
"but with thee will I establish my covenant;" thus
disclosing the secret, that the earth was to be established
according to the purpose of God, as in resurrection,
stability, and beauty.

So, after these earlier fathers, Abraham was to have
both a family and an inheritance on the same principle.
He and his generations after him were taught resurrection
in the mystery of the barren woman keeping house.
The covenant blessing was linked with the risen family.
Ishmael may get possessions, and promises too, but the
covenant was with Isaac.

And more marvellously still, not to pause longer
over other witnesses of it, we see resurrection in the
blessed history of "the Word made flesh." We might
indeed have forejudged that it would have been otherwise.
For in Christ, flesh was without taint. Here was
"a holy thing." But even of such we have now to say,
"Yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh,
yet now henceforth know we Him no more." Christ
known by us now is Christ in resurrection. And this
is enough to let us know assuredly, that resurrection is
the principle of all the divine action, and the secret of
the covenant. [#]_

.. [#] All orders of His creatures in all places of His dominions witness
   Him as the *living* God; but in the history of redeemed sinners He is
   witnessed as the living God in *victory*. This is His glory; and resurrection
   should be prized by us as the display of it. The sepulchre
   with the grave-clothes lying in order, and the napkin which had been
   about the head, are the trophies of such victory. John xx. 6, 7. The
   history of redeemed sinners celebrates Him thus. To hesitate about
   resurrection is to betray ignorance of God, and of the power that is His.
   See Matthew xxii. 29; 1 Cor. xv. 34.

But resurrection has also been, from the beginning,
an article of the faith of God's people; and, being
such, it was also the lesson they had to learn and to
practise, the principle of their life; because the principle
of a divine dispensation is ever the rule and
character of the saints' conduct. The purchase and
occupation of the burying field at Machpelah, tell us
that the Genesis-fathers had learnt the lesson. Moses
learnt and practised it, when he chose affliction with
the people of God, having respect to the recompense
of the reward. David was in the power of it, when
he made the covenant, or resurrection-promise, all his
salvation and all his desire, though his house, his
present house, was not to grow. 2 Sam. xxiii. The
whole nation of Israel were taught it, again and again,
by their prophets, and by-and-by they will learn it,
and then witness it to the whole world, the dry bones
living again, the winter-beaten teil tree flourishing
again; for "what shall the receiving of them be, but
life from the dead?" The Lord Jesus, "the Author
and Finisher of faith," in His day, I need not say,
practised this lesson to all perfection. And each of us,
His saints and people, is set down to it every day, that
we "may know Him, and the power of His resurrection,
and the fellowship of His sufferings."

By the life of faith the elders obtained a good report.
And so the saints in every age. For "without faith it
is impossible to please Him;" that faith which trusts
Him as a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him,
which respects the unseen and the future. They, of
whom the world was not worthy, practised the life of
faith, the life of dead and risen people. Hebrews xi.
Stephen before the council tells us the same. Abraham,
Joseph, and Moses, in his account, were great witnesses
of this same life; and he himself, at that moment, after
the pattern of his master, Jesus, was exhibiting the
strength and virtues of it, through the power of the
Holy Ghost, and apprehending, through the same
Spirit, the brightest joys and glories of it. Acts vii.

.. vspace:: 2

Now, I believe that the leading purpose of the Book
of Job is to exhibit this. It is the story of an elect
one, in early patriarchal days, a child of resurrection,
set down to learn the lesson of resurrection. His
celebrated confession tells us that resurrection was
understood by him as a doctrine, while the whole
story tells us, that he had still to know the power of
it in his soul. It was an article of his faith, but not
the principle of his life.

And a sore lesson it was to him, hard indeed to learn
and digest. He did not like (and which of us does
like?) to take the sentence of death into himself, that
he might not trust in himself, or in his circumstances in
life, or his condition by nature, but in God who raises
the dead. "I shall die in my nest," was his thought
and his hope. But he was to see his nest rifled of all
with which nature had filled it, and with which circumstances
had adorned it.

Such is, I believe, the leading purpose of the Spirit
of God in this Book. This honoured and cherished
saint had to learn the power of the calling of all the
elect, practically and personally, the life of faith, or
the lesson of resurrection. And it may be a consolation
for us, beloved, who know ourselves to be little among
them, to read, in the records which we have of them,
that all have not been equally apt and bright scholars
in that school, and that all, in different measures, have
failed in it, as well as made attainments in it.

How unworthily of it, for instance, did Abraham
behave, how little like a dead and risen man, a man of
faith, when he denied his wife to the Egyptian, and
yet how beautifully did he carry himself, as such, when
he surrendered the choice of the land to his younger
kinsman. And even our own Apostle, the aptest
scholar in the school, the constant witness of this calling
to others, and the energetic disciple of the power
of it in his own soul, in a moment when the fear of
man brought with it a snare, makes this very doctrine
the covert of a guileful thought. Acts xxiii. 6.

Encouragements and consolations visit the soul from
all this. Happy is it to know, that our present lesson,
as those who are dead, and whose life is hid with Christ
in God, has been the lesson of the elect from the beginning--that
on many a bright and hallowed occasion
they practised that lesson to the glory of their Lord,
that at times they found it hard, and at times failed
in it. This tale of the soul is well understood by us.
Only we, living in New Testament times, are set down
to learn the same lesson in the still ampler page, and
after the clearer method, in which it is now taught
us in the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus
Christ.

There is some difference, let me observe, nay, I would
say, distance, between a *righteous* and a *devoted* man.
No saint is a devoted one, who has not been practising
this lesson of which I have been speaking. The measure
of his devotedness may be said to be according to
his attainment in it, according to the energy he is exercising
as a man dead and risen with Christ. At the
beginning of this history, Job was a righteous man.
He was spoken well of again and again, in the very
face of his accuser. But he was not a devoted man.
The whisper of his heart, as I noticed before, was this,
"I shall die in my nest." Accepted he was, as a sinner
who knew his living and triumphant Redeemer, godly
and upright beyond his fellows, but withal, as to the
power that wrought in his soul, he was not a dead and
risen man.

Such also, I might add, was Agur in the Book of
Proverbs. He was godly, and of a lowly, self-judging
spirit. He makes a good confession of human blindness
and pravity, of the unsearchable glories of God, the
purity and preciousness of His word, and of the security
of all who trust in Him. Prov. xxx. 1-9. He was a
man of God, and walked in a good spirit. But he was
not a devoted man. He did not know how to abound
and how to suffer need. He dreaded poverty lest he
should steal, and riches lest he should deny God. He
was not prepared for changes. Neither was Job. But
Paul was. He had surrendered himself to Christ, as
they had not. According to the power that wrought in
his soul, Paul was a dead and risen man. He was ready
to be "emptied from vessel to vessel." He was instructed
both to be full and to be hungry. He could
do all things through Christ strengthening him. See
that devoted man, that dead and risen man, in the
closing chapters of Acts. xx.-xxviii. He is in the midst
of a weeping company of brethren at Miletus, and in the
bosom of a loving Christian household at Tyre. But
were those, the greenest spots on earth to a saint, where,
if any where, the foot of the mystic ladder is felt to
rest, and the fond heart lingers and says, Let us make
tabernacles here, able to detain him? No. Even there,
the dear, devoted Apostle carried a heart thoroughly
surrendered to Christ. "What mean ye," says he, "to
weep and to break mine heart? for I am ready not
to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the
name of the Lord Jesus." He would not be kept. And
on from thence he goes, along the coast of Syria up
to Jerusalem, and then for two long years, apart from
brethren, in perils by sea and land, under insults and
wrongs, a single heart and devoted affection bearing
him through all.

A good conscience alone is not up to all this. Mere
righteousness will not take such a journey. There must
be that singleness of eye to Christ, that principle of
devotedness, which reckons upon death and resurrection
with Jesus. Job was righteous, but he was not prepared
for such shifting scenery as this. He loved the green
spot and the feathered nest. Changes come, and changes
are too much for him. But God, in the love wherewith
He loved him, as his heavenly Father, puts him to school,
to learn the lesson of a child of resurrection, to be a
partaker of "*His* holiness," the holiness not merely of a
right or pure-minded man, but *the holiness that suits the
call of God*, the holiness of a dead and risen man, one
of the pilgrim family, one of God's strangers in the
world. Heb. xii. 9, 10.

Job was chastened to be partaker of such a holiness
as this. Not that trials and troubles, like his, are
essential to the learning of this lesson. A very common
method it is, indeed, with our heavenly Father, in His
wisdom. But Paul set himself daily to practise that
lesson, without the instructions of griefs and losses in
either body or estate. Phil. iii. In the fervent labourings
of the spirit within, he exercised himself in it every day.
And so should we. We are to dread the Laodicean
state, satisfaction with present condition or attainment.
The Laodicean was not a Pharisee, or a self-righteous
man of religion. He was a professor, it may be, of very
correct notions and judgments, but in a spirit of self-complacency,
he did not cherish increasing freshness and
vigour in the ways of the Lord.

Arise, depart; for this is not your rest, says the
Spirit by the Prophet. And why? Why is it not to
be our rest? "It is polluted," he adds. He does not
say it is sorrowful, it is disappointing, it is unsatisfying,
but it is polluted. The quickened soul is to gather
from the *moral* and not from the *circumstances* of the
scene here, its reasons for cherishing within it the
power of Christ's resurrection. The dove outside the
ark did not fear the snare of the fowler, but found no
rest for the sole of her foot on the unpurged ground.

It is humbling to sit down and delineate what has
been so poorly reached in personal power. But "a
beauteous light" may be seen "from far," and as such,
some of us descry and hail the virtues of the risen
life.

A dead and risen man will have neither his *springs*
nor his *objects* here. His principles of action will be
found in Christ, and his expectations in the coming
kingdom. He is taken out of all the advantages and
adornings of the flesh into the righteousness of God,
and then, livingly and practically, is struggling up the
hill, having, in spirit, left the low level of the world,
abating the force of nature, and the fascination of
nature's circumstances, and taking the affections from
things on earth to give them to those which are with
Christ above. He has lost himself, but he has won
Christ. He has taken leave of the course of the world
which goes its rounds on the plain beneath, and is
ascending after Jesus.

He lets the world know that it could never provide
him with his object. In the midst of its kingdoms
and delights he is a stranger still. And virtues and
qualities of heart he practises that are of like divine
excellence. He can, like his Master, hide the glory
to which God has appointed him, and be nothing in
the present scene. Abraham did not tell every Canaanite
whom he chanced to meet, that he was the heir
of the country. In the ears of the children of Heth
he said, "I am a stranger and a sojourner with you."
He was content to be, and (what is still harder) to be
thought to be, a homeless, houseless man. So David,
another of the dead and risen family, when hunted and
driven by the evil thing then in power, though the oil
of Samuel was upon him, God's own consecration to
the throne, he did not publish it. That was the secret
and the joy of faith. But he did not publish it. He
did not traffic with it among men--he did not talk of
himself in connection with that which the world could
value. He was rather, in his own reckoning before
men, no better than "a dead dog" or "a flea."

Oh, precious faith! Oh, holy and triumphant faith!
But this was an elevation which Job had to reach.
He was not, according to the power which wrought in
his soul, of this generation. Not that his condition in
life made him proud, or self-indulgent, or indifferent
to others. But he *valued* his condition. With what
eloquence does he describe it. Chapter xxix. The
minuteness with which he remembers it tells us with
what fondness he had embraced it. The eloquence
with which he describes it (and nothing can exceed
that) betrays with what fervour of heart he had
lingered over it, in the day of its bloom and beauty.
He loved his condition and circumstances in life, his
place, his character, his estimation, his dignities and
praise among men. Godly he was, truly and admirably
so. There was none like him in the earth. But his
place in the earth was important to him. He was
largely ready to communicate and to serve, but he
communicated and served as a patron or a benefactor.
And he desired continuance. "I shall multiply my
days as the sand," was his calculation. Hence the
great end of his trial, and the purpose of recording
it. For this Book gives us the story of a saint in
patriarchal days, or rather, the story of his trials, trials
through which he was to learn the common lesson,
according to the common calling, that we are a dead
and risen people. Job came, I believe, before Abraham,
but he did not come before this lesson; for it had
been taught, as we have seen, from the beginning;
Adam and Abel, and the line of Seth through Enoch
and Noah, had already practised it. And Job, after
them, is set down to the same lesson, only engraven
in somewhat deeper and darker lines.

Such, generally, I believe, was Job, and such his
history. A solitary saint he was; at least, not linked
with dispensational arrangements, or with the peculiar
covenanted family, and before the call of God was
manifested in the person of Abraham. This, however,
adds exceeding value to the Book. For it is, thus,
a witness of the religion of God's people in the most
detached and independent condition. Time and place
do not connect him with the ecclesiastical order or
course of things at all. But still, the faith of the
elect of God was his faith, their truths his truths,
their calling his calling, their hopes his hopes. We
have Adam, and Seth, and Noah, and Shem, and Job,
and Abraham, Moses, Prophets, Apostles, and ourselves,
till the number of the elect be accomplished, learning
the joy and the song of redemption. As we sometimes
sing together--

   |
   |  "Then shall countless myriads, wearing
   |    Robes made white in Jesu's blood,
   |  Palms (like rested pilgrims) bearing,
   |    Stand around the throne of God.
   |
   |  "These, redeemed from every nation,
   |    Shall in triumph bless His name;
   |  Every voice shall cry, 'Salvation
   |    To our God and to the Lamb.'"
   |

Not only, however, the substance or materials, but
the very style of the Book is in the analogy of the
whole inspired volume. It does not teach doctrines
formally, after the method of a science; it rather
assumes them, or lets them publish themselves incidentally.
Even in the Epistles this is the common way.
The great revelation of doctrines made there comes
out, more commonly, in the way of either enforcing
results, or in answer to inquiries, or in defence of
truth against gainsayers or corrupters. So in this
Book, doctrines are assumed, or delivered incidentally;
the more direct object, as I have suggested, being this--to
exhibit a soul set to learn, through trials and sorrows,
the common lesson, the power of our calling, that our
hopes are neither in the world, nor from the flesh, but
in living scenes, with Jesus, beyond all that is here.

And deeply affecting as a narrative of trying and
sorrowing events it surely is, for the events themselves
are deeply touching. But they are all ordinary, or
such as are "common to man." Robbers carry off his
oxen and asses. Lightning destroys his flocks. A
high wind blows down his house, and kills his children.
And, at last, a sore disease breaks out on his body from
head to foot.

Each of these might have happened to his ungodly
neighbour, as well as to him. In the mere matter of
these afflictions, there was nothing that distinguished
him as a child of God. They were not the sufferings
of righteousness from the hand of man, the sufferings
of a martyr. They were such as were "common to
man." But still they were all under the exactest
inspection and admeasurement of his heavenly Father,
all in the way of appointment and of discipline flowing
from heavenly interests, and divine relationships. And
all, too, the result of great transactions in heaven.
For Satan had been there, accusing Job, and the Lord
had been boasting of him; and the Lord had licensed
Satan to go against Job, with a quiver full of arrows,
but had appointed him his measure and rule.

And this is very comforting. For many a child of
God is troubled, in the day of affliction, with the
thought that his trial is commonplace, and no witness
at all that he is not "as other men." But such trouble
is mistaken. In the shape or material of the affliction,
the believer may be just in company with other men,
it is true. The same storm on the distant sea, or the
same disease at home, may have bereaved them alike;
but faith takes account of the relationship with God,
and of the interest which all that concerns a poor saint
awakens in heaven.

In the wisdom of God, in the construction of this
beautiful story (true as I know it to be in every incident
that it records), it is made to introduce all the great
actors in the divine mystery, and to reveal the great
truths which form the common faith of the elect.

This is much to be prized; for this declares the perfect
harmony of all, even the most distant and independent,
portions of the oracles of God. Accordingly, we see engaged
in the action of this Book the *angels* who minister
to the divine pleasure; *Satan* the great adversary; *the
elect sinner* whose faith is cast into the furnace; *his
brethren* in the faith; *the minister of God* in the energy
of the Holy Ghost; and *the Lord God Himself*.

These are the actors in the wondrous scenery of this
Book; so that while the action itself is simply the
trial of a saint, it is so constructed as to bring forth
all these great agents and energies, the very same with
which our souls are conversant to this hour, occupied,
also, in the ways and places which the whole of Scripture
assigns to them. And it is a matter of the richest
interest to our souls to trace this.

Thus the angels or "sons of God" are here seen for
a moment or two, but exactly in the place and action
which the general consent of all Scripture gives them.
They are in attendance on the Lord in heaven, as
those who had been forth, and were ready again to go
forth, in the service of His good pleasure. For the
whole Word thus bears witness to them. They are
"ministering spirits," "ministers of His that do His
pleasure." They are His hosts on high, and the Lord
Himself is among them. Gabriel stands in His presence.
The Seraphim attend His throne, and they are
winged, either to veil their faces and their feet before
the divine majesty, or to fly, like the wind, to execute
the divine commands. All this is told of the angels
throughout Scripture, and here the heavens are opened
for a moment, and all this is seen and heard.

So as to Satan. This Book is in strictest analogy
with the whole volume. "Messengers of Satan" go
forth from the presence of God, as well as Gabriel and
the hosts. "Lying spirits" as well as "ministering
spirits" take their journey and their commission from
thence. He goes about, says an apostle, seeking whom
he may devour; as here, he says of himself, that
he had been up and down, and to and fro, in the
earth. Another apostle tells us, that he, with his principalities
and powers, is in heavenly places; and here
we find him among the sons of God, in the presence of
God. And again; he desired to have all the apostles,
that he might sift them as wheat, put them to the
proof of what they were; and so here as to Job. Satan
is elsewhere called "the accuser of the brethren," and
here he is heard as such. He is the tormentor of this
servant of God, as Scripture generally presents him;
but, as Scripture also testifies, his action is under the
limitations and sovereignty of God. Jesus, God manifest
in the flesh, as He walked in the land of Israel,
gave him his measure (Mark v.); and so Elohim from
the throne does here, and the eye of the Seer and the
voice of the Prophet assign him also exactly this place
and action. 1 Kings xxii.; Zech. iii. [#]_

.. [#] The children of light should reckon upon the attempts of the
   powers of darkness against them. A sudden moment of conflict
   should not therefore surprise us. For we are set to be the scene
   or theatre of their defeat by Christ. "It is our illumination" that
   exposes us. That is its proper natural operation. The more we are
   in the light, I may say, the more exposed we are. It was Adam's
   creature-beauty, Job's memorial with God, and the Apostle's attachment
   to Christ, that laid them open to Satan.

   But let me add, that a "messenger of Satan" may be sent forth
   from the presence of God upon either the *flesh* or the *heart* of man.
   An evil spirit from the Lord came upon Saul, and a lying spirit
   came upon the prophets of Ahab. 1 Sam. xvi.; 1 Kings xxii. The
   Lord was beginning solemn acts of *judgment*, and, therefore, these
   messengers of Satan were sent forth upon the *heart* of those who
   were righteously under judgment. But other messengers of Satan
   reach only the *body* or *circumstances*, as in the case of Paul and of our
   patriarch. And this is *discipline* merely, and not judgment.

These analogies are as strict and literal as they can
be. And further--for it is edifying to trace this still--we
find the patriarch in one school with the distant
apostle of the Gentiles--so richly does one Spirit breathe
through the whole volume. We are in the last chapters
of 2 Corinthians, when reading the first chapters of the
Book of Job! We have the "thorn in the flesh," "the
messenger of Satan," in both Job and Paul.

Then, as to Job and his friends, or the elect one
whose faith is cast into the furnace, and his brethren in
the faith. A very principal part of this patriarchal story
is made up, as we commonly know, of the controversies
that arose between them. Bitter and heated they were,
in something more than the ordinary measure. But
such things are still, and have been in every age.

Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar were friends and brethren
indeed, though they proved to be but "miserable
comforters." They came to Job when all had deserted
him, children mocking him, young men pushing away
his feet, his kinsfolk failing him, his inward friends
forgetting him, his servants giving him no answer, and
his wife refusing him, though he entreated for their
children's sake. They were true-hearted friends, who
said that they would go and comfort their afflicted
brother. And they did go; and they sat with him in
his place of ashes and potsherds for seven days.

But they fell out by the way. *Sad* to tell it, but so
it was; not *strange* to tell it, for so has it ever been,
and so is it still. So early as the times of Abraham's
herdmen and Lot's herdmen, this stands on record.
Joseph had to say to his brethren, "See that ye fall
not out by the way." Moses knew the trial of the *camp*
even beyond that of the *wilderness*, as he went from
Egypt to the Jordan. It was of His own that Jesus in
His day had to say, How long shall I be with you and
suffer you? And Paul counted "the care of all the
churches" the heaviest thing that came upon him.

Variety of temper, different measures of attainment,
the quality of the light and the form of the kingdom
in us, if I may so express it, will occasion collision
and trial, even where there is nothing morally wrong.
But from whatever cause it be, so is it still, and so has
it been from the days of Job and his friends, that we
form a great part of each other's trial. The Lord sits
over it all, refining His silver and purifying His gold,
but still so it is, that we help to heat each other's
furnace for the trial of faith.

Nothing, perhaps, has been a more common source
of this falling out by the way, than the holding of
favourite religious opinions, or an undue, disproportioned
estimation of certain doctrines or points of
truth. And this was the case here. Job prized certain
points of truth, and his friends had their favourites
also. But each "knew but in part," and darkened the
perfect counsels of God. And by reason of this, they
fell out by the way. Job, sorely afflicted by stroke
upon stroke, insisted on it, that God acted *arbitrarily*;
and having a right to do as He pleased, did so. His
friends would have it, that God dealt *retributively*, and
that therefore His way with Job convicted Job of
some unconfessed iniquity. Their doctrines also very
much savoured of human thoughts; they were not
refined from the lees of man's religiousness. They
drew much from the traditions of the elders, and from
their own experiences and observations. They accredited
that false though favourite axiom in the morals of
the world, that "honesty is the best policy." "Who
ever perished, being innocent? or where were the righteous
cut off?" is the challenge which their religion
published. "I have esteemed the words of His mouth
more than my necessary food. But He is of one mind,
and who can turn Him?" is the counsel of his heart.
They insinuate that if all were told, nothing would be
too bad for him; and he reproaches them, in the contempt 
and bitterness of a wounded spirit, and an insulted
character. "No doubt ye are the people, and
wisdom shall die with you."

Such was the strife of words, the bickering and
debate, among them; as sad a sample of falling out
by the way as has ever been known, I may say, among
brethren.

Elihu, in whom was a "manifestation of the Spirit,"
at length enters the scene, bringing the light of God to
make manifest these forms of darkness. He had listened
to the discourses and controversies of these brethren,
but, in modesty and reserve, as became his years, in the
presence of ancient men, he had hitherto held his peace.
He waited till multitude of days, which should know
wisdom, and speak of understanding, had delivered
sentence of truth. But now he speaks. The stirrings
of the Spirit constrain him. He is silent while it is a
question between himself and them, but he durst not
surrender the rights of the Spirit in him. He cannot
respect any man's person now. In Job's day, God chose
the weak thing, as He has done ever since. Elihu was
but a youth. Timothy was the same. But the ancient
men had failed. The stone of help lies in another
stripling of Bethlehem. For, from beginning to end it
must be known, that the good that is done upon the
earth, He doeth Himself. "Not by might, nor by
power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord." Eliphaz and
his companions shall not have it to say, "We have
found out wisdom;" for "God thrusteth him down,
not man," said Elihu of Job.

Job was to be rebuked. He had argued the arbitrariness
of the divine hand in dealing with man, and,
accounting for his present sufferings in that way, he was
so far "righteous in his own eyes." Elihu shows that
this was not so; that all was the holy discipline of One
who, knowing the end from the beginning, ever counsels
the best for His people. Nor will he, like the others,
draw either from himself, or from the elders or fathers.
He will not, in the way of human religiousness, bow
to any names or traditions, however venerated, but, led
of the Spirit, press on in the path where the light of
God shines.

Elihu will not join in laying to Job's charge what his
conscience truthfully resisted. But he will tell Job that
the thoughts of conscience are not to rule his judgment,
or dictate his speeches; that he should rather have
allowed the divine wisdom in all this sore discipline,
than concluded on the divine arbitrariness in it, just
because conscience was clear. He tells Job this should
have been his word--"Surely it is meet to be said unto
God, I have borne chastisement, I will not offend any
more: that which I see not, teach Thou me: if I have
done iniquity, I will do no more."

"A mighty maze," philosophy will say, "but not
without a plan." "God is His own interpreter, and He
will make it plain," a Christian poet will say. And a
true and beautiful thought that is. But inspired wisdom
counsels and teaches thus--"Although thou sayest thou
shalt not see Him, yet judgment is before Him; therefore
trust thou in Him." Chapter xxxv. 14. For we are to
know that purposes of wisdom and goodness rule every
event, though another day has so to declare it. "Judgment"
is ever "before Him," as Elihu says. And God
is to be justified in the thoughts of His children now, as
He will be in the face of heaven and earth by-and-by.
Matt. xi. 19; Ps. li. 4; l. 4.

Such an one was Elihu. And it is a circumstance
full of meaning and of moral beauty, that Job does
not answer him, as he had the others. Elihu invited
him to speak if he would. But he had a moral sense,
a conscience in the Holy Ghost, that witnessed to the
authority with which this minister of the Spirit spake.
Very precious this is. How often, how common,
among the saints, is this! Yea, and even beyond their
borders, at times, the like authority is felt. How often
has the presence of a holy man controlled the ungodly.
The multitudes in the villages of Israel, after this
manner, owned the Lord at times. They "were astonished
at His doctrine: for He taught them as one having
authority, and not as the scribes." And the want of
this is painful. Have we not often, beloved, been
grieved to see the heart and understanding of others
unmoved by that which has come to our own souls
with all the authority of truth, and in the freshness of
the divine unction? But Job gives us not this pain.
And a man very dear to the saints he is, as he was to
the blessed Lord who was thus afflicting him. Elihu
had spoken to him in the Spirit, and his soul bowed to
the authority of his word. He could not treat Elihu
as he had treated Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. He
may not be as yet humbled, but he cannot be angry;
he may not as yet make confession, but he will not reply.
The Spirit of God in the ministry of His servant had
entered the scene, and Job will at least be silent. [#]_

.. [#] The knowledge of truth alone will never ensure happy or profitable
   ministry. If we draw merely from our stores or possessions of
   knowledge, we shall find ourselves confounded. The freshness of the
   Spirit in us, and the exercise of our gift under Him, at the time of
   ministry, are also needful.

The Lord, however, is He that teacheth to profit.
There are diversities of operations, but it is the same
God that worketh all in all. Paul plants, and Apollos
waters, but it is God that giveth the increase. And,
in analogy with these truths, the action of this beautiful
Book proceeds. The voice of God from the
whirlwind makes the testimony of the gifted minister
effectual to the conscience and heart of Job. In a
series of challenges as to natural things, that voice,
mighty and yet gracious, addresses him. It has been
said, by those competent to entertain such inquiries,
that nothing in the whole compass of language can
equal, much less surpass, the inimitable grandeur and
sublimity of this address. And we can all see that it
does that which it belongs to divine power to do--the
complainant is humbled. "I know that Thou canst do
everything." He confesses to Him whose mighty hand
could exalt him in due time, and, after he had suffered
awhile, was well able to strengthen, settle, and stablish
him. 1 Peter v.

It was not the lesson of a sinner which Job had to
learn. He knew already the grace of God. It was
the lesson of a saint he needed to be taught, or taught
more perfectly. It is for this, therefore, that the Lord
seats Himself in the whirlwind. Had Job then, and for
the first time, to learn the lesson of a sinner, the Lord
would rather have addressed him in "the still small
voice," the tone which suits grace, and in which it seeks
and delights to be heard. But Job was already a saved
sinner. He knew already the *grace*, but had as yet to
be taught the *rights*, of God. And therefore the voice
from the whirlwind. For the saint has to count on
such apparent roughness as the sinner never gets.
John was left in prison, when every sickness and
disease among the people was attended to. The Lord,
in His walks of mercy and of usefulness to all who
needed Him, may often have passed near the prison
doors, but He did not open them, as He could have
done, though He was, all the while, giving sight to the
blind, and hearing to the deaf. Was it that John was
loved the less? No. Among them that were born of
woman there was none like him. And was it that Job
was loved the less, because he was addressed out of the
whirlwind? No. There was none like him in the earth,
a perfect and an upright man. But already knowing
the grace of God, he was now to learn and own His
rights. And he does learn them, and confesses them.
And he confesses them, and bows to them, before the
pressure of the mighty hand was removed, and while
as yet it was heavy upon him. That is much to be
observed, much to be prized. For that is a beautiful
witness, that Job had learnt the lesson indeed, learnt
it spiritually, learnt it in the grace and energy of divine
teaching. It is easy and common to own the good of
a chastisement when it is over, and then to say, I
would not have been without it. That is not above
the reach of nature. But while the burthen is still
borne, to vindicate and bless the hand that lays it on,
that is something more. While as yet he lay in the
place of ashes and potsherds, and sore boils tormented
his body from the crown of his head to the sole of his
foot, Job said, "Behold, I am vile; what shall I answer
Thee? I will lay mine hand upon my mouth. Once
have I spoken; but I will not answer: yea, twice; but
I will proceed no further."

Such was the moral, and such the issue, of this simple
but important action. A lesson had to be taught
a child of God. Human wisdom, and religion too, sets
itself to teach it, but betrays its own weakness and
dishonour. A minister of the Spirit, in the light of
the Lord, rebukes the thought of man, exposing the
wise and the scribe and the disputer of this world, and
applying the principles of the truth of God. And the
power of Him who worketh all in all seals the instruction.
Human and divine energies are thus displayed
in the places and characters which belong to them, the
one abased, and the other magnified.

.. vspace:: 2

Such are the actors in the scene of this wondrous
Book--angels, Satan, the tried saint, and his brethren,
the minister of God in the energy of the Spirit, and
the Lord Himself. They hold the place, and do the
deeds, which, as we have now seen, all Scripture assigns
them respectively.

This Book, as I observed before, is an independent
Book. The most so, I may add, of any in the inspired
volume. In the progress of revelation it intimates
nothing before it, nor does any other part of that
revelation find it necessary to it. Job's history is not
linked with that of the people of God, nor does it
advance, in any way, the manifestation of the purposes
of God. But stranger and foreigner as it is, it speaks
exactly the same language. The same Spirit breathes
here, the same light shines here. And this is so, not
only in the case of those who are introduced as actors
in the scenes, but also in the truths and doctrines
assumed or asserted. The corruption of nature as
found in the seed of Adam--the value of a sacrifice
as a propitiation with God--a coming day of judgment--resurrection
and life--these are among the common
thoughts here. But more beautiful and striking than
all is the knowledge it takes of *the person and duty of
the Kinsman*, a mystery well known in Scripture, and,
throughout Scripture, largely though silently referred
to, when too commonly not perceived--a mystery
which shadows all the great truths that are characteristic
of the work of our redemption.

This subject is too great to be fully considered here,
even had I the grace and light to do so. But it is
so happy a one, and suggested by our Patriarch's well-known
confession of his faith, that I cannot altogether
pass it by.

Our apostle says, "No man ever yet hated his own
flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it." A necessary
way of nature is here assumed, and assumed with
approval, by the Spirit of God. That regard to one's
self which each one of us is ready enough to render, is
divinely sanctioned. And then, on this very principle
of nature, the apostle goes on to put the Lord's nurture
of the Church. "For no man ever yet hated his
own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, *even as the
Lord the Church*; for we are members of His body, of
His flesh, and of His bones." Christ is declared to act
towards us on this instinctive verdict of nature, that a
man is to love his own body. The Holy Ghost, through
the apostle, would let our hearts embrace this joy,
that the force of this first law of nature is felt by
Christ towards us, and the duty it imposes is owned by
Him. So that if I can understand my love for myself,
I may understand Christ's love to me. The duty I
owe myself is acknowledged by my Lord as due by
Him to me. He can but nourish and cherish me, as I
would nourish and cherish myself.

Can any thought, I ask, respecting the place into
which the love of the Son of God has brought Him
surpass this? Can the imagination form the idea of
a more intense and devoted affection? Impossible.
If it could, Christ would embody it, and His Spirit
would reveal it, for His love "passeth knowledge."
But it cannot.

But though this may be the most marvellous expression
of this love, yet there is another of the same
character. There is another duty owed on the like
claims of nature, which in like manner has been
adopted and acknowledged by the Lord--the duty of
kindred or natural relations.

The Lord, the Son of God, became our Kinsman.
"Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh
and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the
same." And He became this Kinsman that He might
do for the children the duties and services of a Kinsman.
And what these duties are, and how the Lord has
answered and discharged them, we are told in Scripture.

.. vspace:: 2

One principal duty was, to ransom a brother or his
inheritance, if such or either had been sold.

Now such a sold or forfeited condition is ours by
nature, under the ruins of Adam. Forfeiture of every
thing is the simple idea that holds our natural condition
in the just light. We have forfeited life, and with it
all things, by the breach of those terms on which we
held life, and with it all things. We have incurred the
debt of death. "In the day thou eatest thereof, thou
shalt surely die." Adam did eat, and this law demanded
death. We sold ourselves under that sentence,
and to that penalty, and were debtors to die the death.
But our Kinsman has paid the price. Jesus died.
He has counted out the money to the uttermost farthing.
In the language of the law, eye has gone for
eye, life for life, blood for blood. We have not been
redeemed by corruptible things as silver and gold, but
by the precious blood of Christ. The value of that
blood was well tried. The blood of bulls and of goats
was not rich enough. It would not do, it could not do.
But "Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God," tells us that
He was satisfied who exacted, and could not but exact,
the full ransom or redemption-price. And now *we and
our inheritance stand repurchased by our Kinsman*.

This is the very principal in the great services of
Christ for us. It is largely noticed and foreshadowed
by the law (Lev. xxv.), but it was understood from the
beginning. For sacrifice or vicarious offering proceeded
on this principle. And that was made known upon the
entrance of sin, or act of forfeiture. The coat of skin
which covered Adam bore witness that he stood in the
value of a ransom, that the virtue of One who had met
the demand of God against him was now upon him.

But this is full of blessing--that the great mystery
of the Kinsman or Redeemer was known (published by
the Lord, and believed by the sinner) ere the law had
shadowed it, or prophets proclaimed it. [#]_

.. [#] The same Hebrew word signifies kinsman, redeemer, and avenger.

Another of these duties was this--to rescue or deliver
a brother taken captive.

In the previous case of ransom or repurchase, the
Kinsman had to deal with a rightful claimant, and to
answer his demands. His brother or his brother's
inheritance had been sold, and had to be repurchased
at a price well and justly ascertained, according to the
law of estimations. But this duty of rescuing or
delivering a brother is different. Here the Kinsman
has to do with a stranger or a foe; and by counterforce,
or the strength of a stronger arm, to perform this
service.

But this, also, is our natural condition, our state
under the ruins of the fall. And this character of
Kinsman-service, the Son of God, partaker of our flesh
and blood, renders us.

In this, however, His dealing is with our enemy. In
the previous case of repurchase He dealt with God,
answering His righteous demands for us: here, He
answers the enemy for us. For while it is true that we
had, through disobedience, incurred the debt of death,
the forfeiture of life and all things, so as to need a
ransom, it is also true that we had suffered wrong at
the hand of the Serpent, out of the results of which,
in bondage or captivity to the powers of darkness and
corruption, our Redeemer or Kinsman delivers us.

It was in this action that the Lord, in the days of
His flesh, went through the cities and villages of Israel.
As the stronger man He had then entered the strong
man's house, spoiling his goods, and unloosing his
prisoners. And He will finish such work, and perfect
His way as the Kinsman-deliverer, when He, as the
plague of death and hell's destruction, rescues His
sleeping saints. Then will take place the *redemption* of
the *purchased* possession. See Eph. i. 14.

And again I may say, Happy is it to know that this
way of Christ, this work of our great Kinsman, was
also known in patriarchal days. When Abraham
heard that *his brother* was taken captive, he armed his
trained servants, and brought again his brother Lot
and his goods. Genesis xiv. Five kings may fight
with four in the vale of Siddim, the potsherds of the
earth may strive with their fellows; all this, in one
sense, is no concern of the heavenly stranger, though
his tent may be pitched in the neighbourhood. But
the way of Christ, which becomes the principle of
conduct to His people, is everything to him--and that
way must have been then known, the service of the
Kinsman-deliverer must have been then quite understood
among the elect household, for as soon as Abraham
hears of Lot, he is all action in a moment, and goes
forth for the rescue of his captured brother.

A kindred duty with this was, to avenge the blood
of a murdered brother, or relative.

This duty was recognized by the law, and kept in
memory all through the times of the nation. The
ordinance touching the cities of refuge was a relief
against the abuse of it; and the famous parable of
the woman of Tekoah assumed the fact, that the whole
system in Israel took knowledge of it.

But, like the others, it was older than the law and
the prophets. Notices of Christ and His ways and
His doings for us were the earliest manifestations of
the mind of God. Happy for our hearts to know this!
And, accordingly, this Kinsman-duty had been prescribed
in very early days. When the sword was
committed to Noah, it was published. "At the hand
of every man's brother will I require the life of man.
Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood
be shed." But it was understood as a divine principle
even before then. Cain trembled before this law, which,
as his words intimate, must have then been known
everywhere. Genesis iv. 14. It was, indeed, a part
of the very first promise. "It shall bruise thy head"
announced it. For that sentence told the Serpent,
that man's Kinsman, the Woman's Seed, would avenge
on him the wrongs done by him upon the family. And
this duty Christ will perform when He casts the old
Serpent, "which is the Devil and Satan," with death
and hell, into the lake of fire. [#]_

.. [#] The Kinsman *delivering* and the Kinsman *avenging* deals with an
   enemy or a wrong-doer, and not, as in the case of *repurchasing*, with a
   righteous claimant. There is, however, this difference: in the case
   of delivering, the Kinsman only rescues his brother or relative out of
   the hand of the enemy; in the case of avenging, he visits the blood
   of his brother or relative upon the head of the enemy. Christ will
   deliver us from the hand of death at the *beginning* of the Kingdom
   (1 Corinthians xv. 54), He will avenge us upon the head of death at
   the *close* of the Kingdom. 1 Corinthians xv. 26.

Such are among the duties which a Kinsman, according
to the mind and reckoning of the Lord, owed,
and such is the glorious performance of them by our
great Kinsman. And wondrous is it to be entitled
thus to write of Him! wondrous that the necessary
and instinctive dictates of nature are suggested by the
Holy Ghost as the ground, warrant, and character of
the love of Christ to the Saints! that, as I said before,
whatever nature tells me I owe myself, that Christ tells
me He owes me; and now, I may add, whatever nature
tells me my kindred owe me, that also Christ tells me
He owes me. And again I ask, Can any thought
respecting the place into which the love of the Son of
God has brought Him, surpass this? Can the imagination
form the idea of a more intense and devoted affection?

The Son of God became our Kinsman for the very
end of performing all these Kinsman-services for us.
Hebrews ii., I believe, tells us that. And these duties
and services embody all the great materials in the
mystery of redemption. And, as we have now seen,
they have been made known from the beginning.
Jesus did not wait till the Law presented Him, in
its shadows or swaddling-clothes, to the faith and
joy of poor sinners. The Law afterwards gave the
things concerning Him a tabernacle, but those things
had been made known from the beginning. The fourth
day, in the course of creation, brought forth the Sun,
which then became the tabernacle of the light, but the
light had been abroad through the scene, the light had
been shining, from the earliest moment of the first
day. Jesus was known in the garden of Eden, and
borne on the breath of the very first promise. And
cheering this is to our spirits--happy to track these
notices of the common faith, these thoughts and truths
of God and His covenant, all along the line of the
ages, linking the most distant hearts of the elect in
the fellowship of one joy, and giving them one song
for ever and ever.

Among the saints of the earlier days, our Job knew
Him in this great character of Kinsman or Redeemer.
As rescuing him from the power of death, or from
captivity to the grave and corruption, Job celebrates
Him. It is a scripture well known, and much delighted
in by the saints. And well may it be so. All that
ushers it forth to our hearing, and all that sustains
and accompanies it while we listen to it, give it an
uncommon character.

"Oh that my words were now written! oh that they
were printed in a book! that they were graven with an
iron pen and lead in the rock for ever! For I know
that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at
the latter day upon the earth: and though after my
skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I
see God: whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes
shall behold, and not another; though my reins be
consumed within me."

What an apprehension of Christ in both His person
and His work is here! It is the faith and hope of our
Gospel. Job knew he had a Redeemer, a Redeemer
then living, and thereafter to stand upon the earth
manifested in flesh, and that this Redeemer would
achieve for him a glorious victory over the power of
death, and strength of corruption. And all this fine
apprehension of Christ is accompanied with the simplest
appropriating faith. "Whom I shall see for
myself," says Job, "and mine eyes shall behold, and
not another." This is the confidence of Paul. This
is the liberty that is befitting the full revelation of the
grace of God. Paul and Job, in like spirit, knew the
glorious redemption, and knew it for themselves. "Who
loved me, and gave Himself for me."

And what fervency is this with which the Holy Ghost
enables the patriarch to set his seal to all this precious
confession of his faith! Job would have all men know,
and every generation of them, he would publish it far
and wide, he would tell it out without a fear that he
should ever have to cancel a letter of it, he would engrave
it for eternity and have it leaded in the rock, that
he knew his Redeemer!

What "light of the Lord" was this in which the
Patriarch walked! "O house of Jacob, come ye, and let
us walk in the light of the Lord." Job walked there
long before the house of Jacob, or the prophets of Israel,
knew of it. The light was abroad, and the Spirit led
the elect into it, from the beginning. And this occasion,
recorded in the 19th chapter, was a moment when that
light beamed brightly in Job's soul. His face did not
then, like Stephen's, shine as an angel's in the presence
of his accusers. He had not, in that way, put on the
garments of a child of resurrection, but his spirit within
was in the regions and liberty and triumph of such a one.

This visitation, in the energy of the Holy Ghost,
drawing forth this blessed utterance from the heart of
the patriarch, was the bow in the cloud for a moment.
It shared the path of Job's spirit with the grief and
heaviness that it knew so well--as Jeremiah's vision by
night, and the Mount of Transfiguration, broke the
dreary way of the weeping prophet, and of the adorable
"Man of sorrows." Jer. xxxi. 26; Matt. xvii. 2. It was
the Spirit's power. The poor sufferer was made to look
away from God's dealings *with* him to His doings *for*
him. For there is a difference. The one calls the soul
into exercise, and often are too unwieldy, beyond the
management of our hearts. Very generally they need an
interpreter. The other takes the soul into entire liberty.
They are so plain that a child may read them. They
bear their own meaning on their forehead. They need
no interpreter. God's providences, or His dealings *with*
us, are ofttimes perplexing, as well as tenderly afflicting.
God's grace in the Gospel, or His doings for us, are such
as cannot either puzzle the thoughts or grieve the heart.
They bear their own witness, and tell a tale of devoted,
everlasting love, such as it is impossible to mistake.

And these are the things we have to do with, every
day. If we be oppressed or fatigued by the current
course of circumstances, finding them weighty, dark,
and intricate, it is our privilege, and our duty too, to
pass over, in spirit and in thought, to that calm and
sunny atmosphere in which the Gospel, or God's doings
for us, ever invest the soul.

All this may be seen in Job. That loved and honoured
saint is generally seen grappling with God's dealings
with him. The hand of God had gone out upon all his
interests and enjoyments. Loss of fortune, children, and
health, had come, by sore surprise, upon him, and he
persists, in the heat and resentment of nature, to keep
all this before his mind. But in a moment of the Spirit's
power he is made to look away from all this, to turn
from God's dealings *with* him to God's doings *for* him;
and then he triumphs. Then he can contemplate more
than the boils on his body, even the worms destroying
it; but all is light and triumph. Then, in the face of
all enemies, he can sit and sing in spirit, If God be for
me, who can be against me? Romans viii.

Truly blessed is this. The tempter would lead us to
judge of God by the dark shadings of many a passage
of our history here. But the Spirit would have us
acquaint ourselves with Him in the beauteous light of
the Gospel, the glory that shines in the face of Jesus
Christ; and there is light there and no darkness at
all--no shadows which have to be chased away, no
dimness that needs to be interpreted.

But this rather by the way--I have already traced
certain combinations between this earliest and most independent
portion of the book of God and all other
parts of it, whether near or distant. And very establishing
to the heart this is. But such combinations
or harmonies may be traced still further--in the *scenes
of action*, as well as in the *actors in the scenes*.

There are "heaven" and "earth" here, as in all Scripture;
each, too, having its "day" or special occasion.
See i. 4, 6, 13; ii. 1. There are also "this present
evil world," and "the world to come." At the opening
of the action the scene is laid in this present evil
world. It is but domestic, but all the features of the
great world are seen in it. For each family circle, like
every heart, is a little world. Indulgence and the love
of enjoyment appear in the children, and something of
the common "enmity against God" in the wife of our
patriarch. Then, again, there are *natural* calamities,
as from wind and fire and disease; and there are
*relative* calamities, as from the hand of our neighbour
or fellow-men, as Sabeans and Chaldeans. And all
this is the various casualty of life and human circumstance
to this hour. There is stroke upon stroke,
messenger after messenger, turning over every page of
the history. It is but human life *then* instead of *now*,
but the same life in its losses, crosses, and sore contradictions.
There is a little reality, a little of the
"friend in need" who "is a friend indeed," but there is a
great deal of scorn and desertion in the hour of
calamity, still so well known in the world. Job has
three friends who sit with him among his ashes and
potsherds, but all beside see him afar off.

Is not all this "the present evil world" drawn to
the life?

But at the close of the action, the scene is laid in
"the world to come," God's world and not man's, the
world which His energies are to form, and His principles
are to fill. It is the time of refreshing and
restitution. In the 42nd chapter of our Book, we are,
in spirit, in the Millennium. The Holy Ghost gives
us this account of it. "Be patient therefore, brethren,
unto the coming of the Lord," are the words which
introduce His allusion to "the patience of Job," and
to "the end of the Lord." The husbandman toils in
hope, and gets his fruit in harvest, or in resurrection.
And so did Job endure, till, at last, he that sowed
reaped. The 42nd chapter is the harvest of the husbandman.
James v. 7-11.

And happy, I may say, is this further witness to the
value which a spirit of confession and repentance has
with our God, beloved. As it is written, "The sacrifices
of God are a broken spirit;" and again, "If we
confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive
our sins." For I doubt not, that it was to Job's few
words of confession and repentance that the Lord
referred when He turned to the friends and told them,
that they had not spoken of Him the thing that was
right, like His servant Job. They had not made confession
at the end, as he had done. And let us cherish
this assurance. There are comfort and strength in it.
The language of repentance prevails. "I have surely
heard Ephraim bemoaning himself," says Jehovah--and
then came the divine compassion: "Is Ephraim
my dear son? is he a pleasant child? for since I spake
against him, I do earnestly remember him still." Or,
as we may learn from Hosea, words of confession and
repentance from Israel, in the latter day, mightily
prevail with God. "O Israel, return unto the Lord
thy God; for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity. Take
with you words, and turn to the Lord: say unto Him,
Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously."
"I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely,"
is the divine answer, with a rich and beautiful chapter
of promises.

The consolation of this! the tale it tells us of grace,
unwearied, long-suffering grace! And accordingly Job
flourishes again. The Lord is as the dew to him. He
grows as the lily, his branches spread, his beauty is as
the olive tree, his scent as Lebanon. In "the end of
the Lord" he is seen as "in the regeneration," or day
of the kingdom, and even others dwell under his
shadow, reviving as the corn, and growing as the vine.
See Hosea xiv. [#]_

.. [#] I do not regard Job so much as a *type*, but rather as a *sample*.
   His calling was the common calling, as a dead and risen man. Every
   saint, now gathering for heavenly glory, is such. Israel in the latter
   day will be as such, and the whole system of the millennial age.
   The Lord Jesus holds all things, and exercises His offices, as the One
   that was dead and is alive again. But I judge it to be more fitting
   to speak of Job as a sample of the common calling, than as a type.
   I could not, however, object to the expression, were it used by others.

   Job learnt his lesson through sufferings. The Lord, I may say,
   did the same. Hebrews ii. iv. v. He was made perfect for His high
   functions in that way. Christ's compassions could not have been
   *priestly*, till He became a man, partaker of the flesh and blood of the
   children, and suffered as such. And Job's history may be read as the
   expression or foreshadowing of all this.

   So Israel. They will be as a people who, having destroyed themselves,
   have found their help in God. Hosea presents them in that
   character. Their language in chapter xiv. is the language of such a
   people. And Job's history may be regarded as the expression or
   foreshadowing of this also. He revives, he grows again as the lily,
   and his branches spread, at the end, as Israel and Israel's branches will,
   according to their prophet. So that we may speak of Job as a type.
   But I still feel and judge it to be more fitting, to present him as a
   sample of us all, in the common faith, as dead and risen with Christ.


Such was our Patriarch in "the end of the Lord."
Another witness he is that the burning bush is never
consumed, because of the good-will of Him who dwells
in it. It may be Israel in Egypt, or in Babylon, the
children in the furnace, or the prophet in the den. It
may be a poor elect Gadarene, beset with a legion, or
the patriarch, the sport of wind and fire and bodily
disease, of Chaldeans and Sabeans too, the power and
messengers of Satan let out upon him, still the burning
bush is unconsumed for the goodwill of Him who
dwells in it. "We had the sentence of death in ourselves,"
says the apostle, as speaking in the name of
them all, "that we should not trust in ourselves, but in
God who raiseth the dead."

Such an one was our Patriarch. And such an one he
had learnt himself to be. In the school of God he had
now learnt his calling, as in the experience of his own
soul. But a great lesson it is. A great difference, I am
full sure, between having God in the midst of our
circumstances, and God as Himself the first and great
circumstance. The first was Job's way at the beginning.
He would not have been without God. He owned Him,
and gave Him an altar in the family scene. But he had
not said to Him, Thou shalt choose our inheritance for
us. He had not, as Abram did afterward, *come out from
circumstances with God*, trusting Him to surround him
with His own circumstances. The power to do this
cries, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is
none upon earth that I desire beside Thee." For such
was the utterance of a saint when his soul had come
forth from the tempest and temptation of seeing himself
second to the wicked in the conditions and circumstances
of life here. Ps. lxxiii.

What a voice this truth has for us! Some may listen
to it for *comfort*, others of us of feebler faith for *warning*.
The world and pride and selfishness form the circumstances
out of which the call of God summons us; and
religion, in a sense, may have brought God into them;
but faith, in its simplicity, forms the other, and God has
not to be brought into them, for He is there from the
beginning, the great Framer or Artificer of them all.

One repeats this truth, for it is, as I judge, the great
secret of this Book. Our Job at the end learnt the power
of the call of God. And this, I may say, imparts a just
and spiritual bearing to all he now does, as well as
invests his whole estate with the beauty and stability
of millennial days.

He was, at the beginning, as a *prophet*, *priest*, and
*king*, and so is he again, at the end. But he is so after
a new order, exercising his different functions more
according to the mind of God. As a *prophet*, he had, at
the beginning, too confidently assumed to be the interpreter
of God and His ways; but now he says, "I will
demand of Thee, and declare Thou unto me." He will
be a disciple of the Lord, ere he teach others; he will
have his ear opened, ere his tongue be loosed. Isa. 50. 4.
Such is the purifying of his prophetic ministry. He
will know nothing, save as he learns it from God. His
doctrine is not *his* now. As a *priest*, at the beginning,
he had stepped in between God and his children, to heal
probable or dreaded breaches. But he does not seem to
wash his own clothes, while sprinkling the purifying
water on others. Num. xix. 21. He wanted to remember
that he himself was also in the body, temptable like
the weakest. Gal. vi. 1. But now he is *accepted* himself.
Job xlii. 9; Ezek. xiv. 14, 20. As a *king*, his honours
now come after his afflictions, his glories after his
sufferings; and also after he prayed for his friends, is
his captivity turned. He exercises grace, ere he is again
entrusted with power--all this being according to the
great originals. "Ye are they which have continued
with Me in my temptations, and I appoint unto you a
kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto Me."

In these ways, he is prophet, priest, and king, *after a*
*new order*, and all is refined in the furnace, like gold
tried in the fire.

And he is the father of a family again, a family
also, as I may again say, of a new order--nothing has
to be corrected among them, but all is in happy,
holy fellowship, the heart of the father turned to the
children, and the heart of the children to their father.
At the beginning he had to watch their ways, and
provide for the evil they might have committed. But
at the end there is nothing of this; their father has
only to see them with admiration and delight. They
awakened *fear* at first, but now *contentment*.

And further, in this beautiful millennial or resurrection
scene, which thus closes this story, the stormy
wind is hushed, and the lightning of the thunder
strikes no more. In this day of a second Noah, such
as Job was (the lord of a new world), the waters
which once "prevailed" are now "assuaged." And
the Chaldeans and Sabeans no longer spoil the spoil,
and prey the prey. There is "no adversary nor evil
occurrent," no "Canaanite in the house of the Lord"
now. Nothing hurts or destroys in all the holy
mountain. The Lord delivers His people from those
who served themselves of them.

All this is pledged and pictured for us here. And
what may be said to be of still deeper value to us, the
great enemy himself, the ready and wishful agent of
all the mischief and sorrow that had come in, is gone
likewise. At the beginning he is in the action, exercising
himself as an accuser in heaven, and as a
tormentor on earth. And it is for the comfort of the
tried saint, that the hand of both God and the enemy
are engaged in his trial; the enemy (as here with
our patriarch) seeking to cast his crown to the ground,
and to cast his fair memorial with God in the dust,
the Lord purposing (and performing it) to brighten
that crown, and still further to bless the heir of those
dignities and joys. It is a comfort to the saint, in the
day of trial, to remember this. But, at the end, the
enemy is gone. The purpose, in the wisdom of God,
for which he had been used, is answered, and he is
gone. The discipline of Job had ceased as in his
destruction.

Satan had understood Job. He knew the workings
of that corrupt nature, which his own lie had formed
in the garden of Eden. He had said, "Doth Job fear
God for nought? Hast not Thou made an hedge about
him?... Touch all that he hath, and he will curse Thee
to Thy face.... Skin for skin; yea, all that a man hath
will he give for his life." And serious and terrible is the
thought, beloved, that he knows us so thoroughly, and
understands the springs of thought and will within us.
But though he thus understands *Job*, he did not
understand *God*. The counsels of grace are above
him. And by reason of this, he has been always, in
the history of this world, defeating himself, while
thinking that he was getting advantage of us; for he
has to meet God in the very thing he does, and the
purposes he plans, against us. When he interfered
with Adam in the garden, he encountered God to his
confusion, and the promise to Adam announced his
own doom. When he provoked David to number
the people, Ornan's threshing-floor was disclosed, and
the spot where mercy rejoiced against judgment becomes
the place of the temple. When he sifted the
Apostles as wheat, he was answered by the prayer
of Jesus, and, instead of faith failing, brethren were
strengthened. And, above all, when he touched Jesus
on the cross, the very death he inflicted was his own
perfect and accomplished ruin. So, in every trouble
which he brings on any of us, he finds, or is to find,
sooner or later, that he has met the mighty God, and
not the feeble saint. He entered Job's nest that he
might spoil it, and leave it driven and wasted. He
came into another garden then. But God was there
as well as his servant Job, and in the end Satan is
confounded.

Thus is it with the saints and their enemy. They
shall take the kingdom, and in the kingdom Satan shall
have no place. Out of the trials which he had raised
around them and against them, they come forth to wear
their crowns, and sing their songs. And, instead of his
appearing again "among the sons of God," the mighty
angel shall lay hold on him, and cast him into the
bottomless pit. [#]_

.. [#] It has been observed by another, that Satan is *always* defeated.
   This thought seems to get the most striking confirmations from Scripture,
   beyond the cases mentioned above.

   He is the instrument, the willing instrument, of destroying the
   flesh; but that destruction ends in *the saving of the spirit*. 1 Cor. v.
   5. He receives, gladly receives, one that is judicially delivered over
   to him; but all that ends in *such an one learning not to blaspheme*.
   1 Tim. i. 20. He sends forth his messengers as thorns in the flesh,
   delighting to do so, as being bent on mischief, having been "a murderer
   from the beginning;" but this still works good, for *the servant
   of Christ is thereby kept from undue exaltation*. 2 Cor. xii. 7.

   These are illustrious exhibitions of the devil being *always* defeated.
   Because they show this--that he lends himself directly to his own
   overthrow. His own weapon is turned against himself. The one
   whom he assails is, by the very assault, given strength or virtue
   against him.

   Happy assurance! our great adversary is never victorious! It is the
   pricks he kicks against.

This is full of blessing--and this is millennial blessing,
shadowed here in this beautiful story. But there is
more. There will be no question in the millennial
heavens about the saints, as there was about Adam in
the garden, and about Job in the beginning of this
Book. The tree of knowledge tested the creature whom
God had just made. But in the age of the resurrection,
in the heavens where Job and all the children of the
resurrection will be, there will be no such test. There
will be no question about man. There will be silence
in heaven as to man, for the great Kinsman has answered
all questions, and man is glorified there.

Such are the changes which have arisen, ere we
leave this divine, inspired story. Has not the *trial* of
faith been *precious*, as St. Peter speaks, when we can
talk of such changes? The enemy is gone. His
ministers, or messengers, the wind and the fire, the
Chaldeans and Sabeans, take their commission no more.
Job, too, has changed his mind, and made his confession
to God--his friends have changed their mind, and
humbled themselves to him. But there is One who
abides the same. He has no step to retrace, no word to
recall, no deed of His hand, or counsel of His heart, to
alter or repent of. Other scriptures tell of Him, that
He is "the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever,"
and that with Him there "is no variableness, neither
shadow of turning." And this precious tale about Him
and His doings so illustrates and exhibits Him.

There is never entire calmness, or the absence of all
haste and distraction, where we are not conscious that
our *strength is equal to our business*, whatever it may be.
Nor is there, when we are not equally conscious of
*integrity or righteousness in that business*. The consciousness
of both righteousness and strength is needed in
order to fit the hand to do a deed, or the foot to take a
step, with entire ease.

Now we know that this ease marks all the ways and
operations of God. He is ever at work (to speak after
the manner of men) in the full possession of this undistractedness
of which we are speaking. We might
judge this from the necessary glory of His godhead.
But the ways of Jesus on earth always exhibited this,
and He, as we know, was God manifest in the flesh.
And this ease and calmness, in which all the operations
of God proceed, tell us, that though they may to us
appear strange and even wilful, as Job thought them,
yet is He able to interpret them every one, so as to be
justified in His sayings, and clear when He is judged.
And this is happy. "The bud may have a bitter taste,"
and "blind unbelief is sure to err." These things are
so. But "God is His own interpreter, and He will
make it plain." We know how our Job was tried--deeply,
variously, and, as might be thought, wantonly,
needlessly; for he walked in the fear of God, and in
the service of his generation. But "the end of the
Lord" is more than vindication. It is display. The
trial is found to be unto praise and honour and glory.
The light of the coming day, rebuke what it may, will
have only to set off and reflect the excellency of Him
with whom we have to do.

Thus have we lingered, for a little, over these bright
notices of millennial days, "the days of heaven upon
earth," which shine at the close of this lovely as well
as serious and instructive tale of patriarchal times.
But there is more.

At the beginning, Job held all his blessings with
reserve and suspicion. He was not in safety, nor at
rest, nor in quiet; yet trouble came. "The thing which
I greatly feared is come upon me," says he, "and that
which I was afraid of is come unto me." It must needs
be so. The instability with which departure from God
has affected every possession and every profit here
makes this necessary. But, at the end, there are no
"fears within," any more than Chaldeans or "fightings
without." No shadow crosses the settled sunshine
that rests on all around him, or the calm light which
fills all within.

And further--his kinsfolk and acquaintance, at the
end, seek him again. They ought, indeed, never to have
deserted him. For we deceive ourselves if we think
that we must be right if we *grieve* those whom God is
*disciplining*. This is often very far indeed from being
the case. The Lord said in Zechariah, "I am very sore
displeased with the heathen that are at ease: for I was
but a little displeased, and they helped forward the
affliction." So also is Isaiah xlvii. 6--and so Obadiah
10-14, to the same effect. We are more commonly,
perhaps, in God's mind, and act as the living vessels of
the Spirit, when *soothing* such. And sure I am it was
so in Job's case. Had his former friends known God's
way, they would have dealt very differently with him.
They would not have left him. The very fact that
"the hand of God" had touched him, as he so deeply
expresses it, would have been the occasion of "pity," as
he further says, from his friends.

However, as part of the bright sunshine that gladdens
his estate at the end, his kinsfolk and acquaintance
again seek him. And they do so to *congratulate* as
well as to *compassionate* him. And if they talk to
him of past griefs, it is but to heighten his present joy--as
Israel afterwards, in their triumphant feast of
Tabernacles, might make booths and sit under them, in
grateful remembrance of wilderness-days.

All these are happy reverses, and the latter end of
our patriarch is twice as good as his beginning. But
among all the gladdening anticipations which shine in
the latter page of this history there is none which more
captivates the heart than *the reconciliation*. The patriarch
and his brethren, as the narrative largely tells us,
and as we well know, had sadly fallen out by the way,
as they walked along the high road of "this present
evil world;" but as soon as they enter "the age to
come," the strife of tongues and stir of war are heard
and seen no more.

This is truly welcome to the heart. For what joy will
it be to be delivered of selfishness and pride, and many
other workings of an ungenerous and perverted nature.
How are the pleasures of the heart spoiled by such
robbers continually! What a thing a page of history
is! What a record of the agitations of envy and
ambition and revenge! Is it not misery thus to see
men "hateful, and hating one another," and then to
remember that we are still alive and active in the midst
of the same elements? But another thing is in our
prospect; and it is the way of the wisdom and grace of
God again and again, in the progress of His Word, as here
in the 42nd chapter of Job, to give us a mystic picture
of it. Then man, as *deceived by Satan*, shall give place;
and man, as *anointed by God*, shall prevail. Then shall
be known the joy of getting out of such darkness
into such light, of beholding the Sun again, after
centuries of midnight gloom.

We know from Scripture that great physical virtue
will attend this coming kingdom. As prophets sing,
the wilderness "shall rejoice and blossom as the rose"--the
lame shall leap as the hart, the tongue of the
dumb shall sing, the cow and the bear shall feed
together, and the wolf shall lie down with the kid.
Nature in all its order shall own the presence of the
Lord. The floods shall clap their hands, the trees of
the wood shall rejoice, before Him. As creation has
already felt the bondage of corruption, it shall then
feel the liberty of glory.

It will be as though dormant sensibilities had all
been suddenly awakened. It will be as the sweeping
of an exquisite instrument with a master hand. It
will be the *same* creation, but under new authority,
new influences. Let but the sons of God be manifested,
and the whole system shall spring into new conditions
and consciousness.

And so *man*, when the powers of that coming age
take him up as their subject. Let but the passage be
made from this present evil world into the world to
come, and new principles will at once gild and furnish
the scene, and give *moral* enjoyments (which are the
richest of all) to all personal and social life.

This will be the touching of an instrument of still
finer workmanship. The system around the vegetable
and animal world is susceptible of such forms of
beauty and of order as may make it all the vivid, happy
reflection of divine goodness and wisdom; but in the
renewed mind of man there lie latent powers and
affections of nothing less than the divinest texture.
In its present condition it has to struggle with nature,
and to suffer sore let and hindrance from the flesh. It
is oppressed and encumbered by a gross atmosphere.
But it has capabilities of acting, judging, and feeling
of the highest order. And let but the due influences
reach it in power, those sensibilities and faculties will
be all awakened, and forms of moral beauty throughout
all personal and social life will show themselves. What
a hope for the spirit tried in conflict with the flesh!
It will be the same "new creature" that now is: only
in other conditions. Not oppressed and clouded, but,
as it were, breathing its native air.

Scripture gives us many a witness of such moral
virtue and enjoyment in the millennial age. It is
one of the most delightful occupations of the mind
of Christ in us, to hear these witnesses, in their mystic
language, deliver their testimony.

The Father of Israel and the Gentiles are seen
together, for a moment, in Genesis xxi. And their
communion was a sample of the holy, happy intercourse
of Israel and the nations, in the coming days
of the kingdom. Questions which before had divided
and disturbed them are now all settled. The well of
water, which had been the occasion of strife, is now a
witness of the oath or covenant. All pure social
affections adorn this communion of Abraham and
Abimelech; and they part under pledged and plighted
friendship. Abraham's grove, in principle, makes the
desert to bloom, and his altar makes the earth a
sanctuary; but his way with Abimelech, and Abimelech's
with him, give that bright moment its dearest and
highest character. For there are no enjoyments like
*moral* enjoyments, no pleasures like those of the *heart*.

So in Exodus xviii. The heavenly and the earthly
families are seen together, under the type of Jethro
and the ransomed tribes, at the mount of God. And
all is full of moral beauty. And yet the materials
which make up the scene had been, in other and
earlier days, very differently minded towards each
other. Moses and Zipporah had parted in anger, the
last time they had met, and the congregation had been
murmuring again and again. But now the mount of
God has influences for them, and from the highest to
the least, from Jethro down to the most distant parts
of the camp, all is in the power of godly order, subjection,
and fellowship.

Then again, that generation that lived in the closing
days of David and in the early days of Solomon
exhibit the same. They had been numbering each
other to the sword, in the wood of Ephraim, but the
sword is turned into a ploughshare now. The days
of Solomon were, typically or in spirit, millennial days,
and sweet and surprising virtue attends them. Instead
of going forth again to the field of battle, they sit,
every man with his neighbour, under the vine and
under the fig-tree. "Judah and Israel were many, as
the sand which is by the sea in multitude, eating and
drinking, and making merry."

Are not these *moral* transfigurations? And how
blessed they are! Pass but the border. Leave man's
day for the Lord's day. Breathe the air of the
Mount of God--and all this moral renovation, with
its countless springs and streams of social felicity,
shall be tasted, ever fresh and ever pure. 'Tis but
a little while and all this shall be. The *same* brethren,
who may now be a trial to one another, like our Job
and his friends, shall then heighten and enlarge each
other's joy. And in the earthly places, "Ephraim shall
not envy Judah, nor Judah vex Ephraim." Pride and
selfishness shall have ceased to depreciate, as they do
now, with all their companion lusts and wickednesses,
the pleasures of the heart.

This patriarchal story, on which we have now been
meditating, more ancient than, and as illustrious as, any
of these inspired records, gives us a like sample of millennial
days. Job and his three friends, Eliphaz the
Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite,
are the same Job, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar,
the same *persons*. And they are no longer contending,
but united brethren. They have ascended the mount
at the end; and there lies all the difference. And
barren indeed our hearts must be of every gracious
affection, and dead to all godly emotions, if we hail not
such a prospect.

He who by His blood did long ago break down all
partition walls, and who is now, by His Spirit, giving
believers common access to the Father, will by-and-by,
with His own hand, join the stick of Ephraim
and the stick of Judah, and make them one there.
Ezekiel xxxvii. 16. His Israel on the earth shall see
"eye to eye," for the light and the joy of Zion's salvation
shall be passed, with holy speed, from the messengers
on the mountains to the watchmen of the city, and
from them to the people, and from the people to the
nations (Isaiah lii. 7-9)--and, among the heavenly
people, the children of the resurrection, like Job and
his friends, "that which is in part shall be done away,
and that which is perfect shall come."

.. vspace:: 4

.. class:: center large

   _`THE CANTICLES`.

.. vspace:: 2

"Will God in very deed dwell with men on the
earth? Behold, heaven and the heaven of
heavens cannot contain Thee."

This was the devout breathing of the king of Israel
(the penman, too, of this little book to which we are
now proposing, in the Lord's grace, to introduce ourselves),
when the glory had come to fill the house which
he had builded.

But so it was. The Son of God, Jehovah's Fellow,
He that was with God and was God, was manifest
in flesh, and conversed with us here. He dwelt with
men on the earth. He tabernacled among us. He
was Jesus. We knew Him as such. He was a *Man*,
and a Friend, and a Master, and a Companion. He
invited confidence. He sought sympathy and imparted
it. And, as a *Man*, we know Him still--as
truly a Man amid the brightest glories of heaven now,
as once He was a Man amid the ruins and sorrows of
earth--as able, through sympathy, to understand the
sufferings of His saints still, as when He walked the
streets and highways here, bearing our griefs and
carrying our sicknesses.

And what will He be even for ever? Still *Jesus
Christ*. Dominion of all things will be His as a *Man*.
The scene may change the second time, from the
present temple in heaven to the kingdom of glory, as at
first it changed from the cities and villages here to the
temple on high, but it is "the *Man* Christ Jesus" who
passes from scene to scene. Precious mystery! Manhood
having been once taken up, will never be given
up. A temple has been found for the glory, a vessel
for the blessing, a person for the manifestation, an
instrument for the exercise of power and government,
suited to the counsels of divine wisdom and to the
purposes of divine goodness.

.. vspace:: 2

From the beginning of His ways, and throughout
them, the Lord God has been evidencing His
purpose to bring His creature *man* very near to
Him. The expression of this has been different, but
still constant.

In patriarchal days the intimacy was *personal*. He
walked in the midst of the human family, personally
appearing to His elect; not so much employing either
prophets or angels, but having to do with the action
Himself.

In the times of Israel, He was not so much in "the
human guise" as before. He was rather in mystic
dress. But still He was *near* them. The Lord in the
burning bush, the glory in the cloud, the armed captain
by Jericho, speak this nearness. The God of Israel
seen on the sapphire throne, the glory filling the
temple courts, or seated between the cherubim, tell
the same. And the promises, "I will set My tabernacle
among you ... and I will walk among you,"
and "Mine eyes and Mine heart shall be there
perpetually," alike witness this desired and purposed
fellowship.

Then, in the progress of the ages, the assumption
of manhood is a witness, I may say, that speaks for
itself; and the *ways* of God manifest in the flesh
agree therewith. Jesus "came eating and drinking."
And still the same, after He had become the *risen Man*.
He had not then, it is true, one lodging and repast
with His disciples, as once He had. He did not then,
as before, go in and out among them. They were
not to know Him "after the flesh," as in earlier days.
But still there was full intimacy. There was many a
note of conscious authority about Him, it is most true.
He speaks of all power in heaven and in earth being
His. He opens their understandings. He pronounces
peace upon them on new and authoritative grounds,
He imparts the Holy Ghost, as the Head of the new
creation. He blessed, as Priest of the temple, the only
Priest. All this He does, as risen from the dead, with
conscious power; but, with all this, He owns intimacy,
loving, personal intimacy, as near and dear as ever, if
not more so. He eats and drinks with them, as once
He did. He calls them "brethren," as He had not
done before His resurrection. He speaks of having
one God and Father with them, as He had not done
then. Though with all authority He sends them
forth to work, yet does He still work with them.
Mark xvi.; Luke xxiv.; John xx. And though He
was at that time paying them only an occasional visit,
a visit now and then, as He pleased, during forty days
(Acts i. 3), yet He intimates, by a little action, that, by-and-by,
all such distance and separation will be over,
and they should "follow" Him to His place, risen and
glorified with Himself. John xxi. 19-23.

Is not all this intimacy still? desired and enjoyed
intimacy on the part of our "everlasting Lover"? And
as to this present dispensation, the same is provided
for and maintained, though in a different way. The
Holy Ghost is come. The Spirit of truth is in us.
Our bodies are nothing less than His living temples
or dwelling-places, while the Son has, mystically, borne
us to heaven in and with Himself. Eph. ii. 6. Surely
no form of fellowship which we have contemplated
is more deep and intimate than this. If, personally,
the Lord God was with the patriarchs, and would
take a calf and a cake in the love of hospitality--if,
in the sight of the whole congregation, He would
let the glory fill the temple courts in the joy of its
new-found habitation--if, in "the Man Christ Jesus,"
the Lord God would walk with us, and share our
seasons of rest and labour and refreshment, talking at
a well with one elect sinner, or letting another press
His bosom at supper, and ask Him about the secrets
that were in that bosom--in this present day He has us,
in the thoughts and affections of His own heart, up in
heaven with Himself, and the Holy Ghost is here
with us, in the midst of the thoughts and affections
of our hearts.

Is this, I ask, intimacy of a feebler nature? Is this
a retracing of His way back into His own perfections
and sufficiency, or amid the glories and principalities
of angels? Is this *reserve*, as men speak? Is this
withdrawing Himself, or repenting of former intimacy
with man, as though He had been disappointed
and put off? "Adam, where art thou?" was His voice.
But has Adam's retreat forced the Lord back? Let
this one Witness, this Witness of our times, this indwelling
Spirit, leading us in company with Himself after
this manner, tell us. All His present way is only a
richer pursuit of that purpose which broke forth, in
infant form, in the days of Genesis.

And what shall we say of this intimacy in still future
days? Redeemed men take the place of cherubic nearness
to the throne. The living creatures and the crowned
elders are there, and the angels do but surround them
as well as the throne. The Lamb's wife, the holy Jerusalem,
bears the glory in her bosom. The Tabernacle
of God is with men, and He will dwell with them.

.. vspace:: 2

But if all this be so, as it surely is, a holy inquiry
arises, How are we to entertain this? In what spirit,
and after what manner, are we to act on the truth of
this gracious purpose of God? *We are to admit and
believe it in all the simplicity in which it is revealed.*
This is our first duty. We are by no means to refuse
the thought of this divine nearness. Did John, I ask,
refuse to lie on His Lord's bosom, or excuse himself
for doing so? No. Neither are we, through mistaken
humility, to question whether we have rightly interpreted
the many scriptures which declare this truth.
We are to use the privileges it confers.

But with this use of its privileges we are to honour
its claims. For this presence of God is a *pure* as well
as a *cheerful* element. Of old, the shoes were to be
taken from the feet, when that presence was entered,
to express the sense of holiness which became it. But
that was all. Neither Moses nor Joshua were required
to withdraw; only to tread softly. They were welcomed
and encouraged, while instructed in the holiness
of such intimacy.

So in the Canticles. The soul makes its boast of
its Lord's love. It does not refuse to listen to the
tenderest expressions of it, nor to recite His well-known
desire towards her; but withal, there is owned
and felt unworthiness. There is the breathing of the
purest though most intimate thoughts--an affection
quickly sensitive of the putting slight on such wondrous
condescensions of divine love, and diligence in
nourishing in the soul the answer due to them. And,
thus, this little book gives very clear witness to the
truth of God's intimacy with man, and to the manner
in which it should be entertained by us. And in
doing this it introduces us to a great divine mystery,
which, in like manner, gets its early and constant
illustration in the Book of God--a mystery which
must now hold our thoughts for a little. I mean that
of the Bride and the Bridegroom.

The Church is called "the Lamb's wife." But this
title has its meaning. "The Lamb" is a figure or a
description of the Son of God which tells us of the
sorrows He endured for us. The soul well understands
this; and therefore this title, "the Lamb's
wife," tells us that it is by *His sufferings* the Lord has
made her His own; that He valued her so as to give
up all for her. And from the beginning He has been
publishing this precious gospel truth.

Ere Adam received Eve he was cast into a deep
sleep, and out of his side was taken a rib, of which
was formed that one that was afterwards presented to
him as his wife. This witnesses the mystery I have
mentioned. Adam was humbled and Adam suffered
(I mean, of course, only in the symbol or mystery),
ere he received Eve; all this casting beforehand the
shadow of the humiliation and suffering of the true
Adam, in acquiring His Eve for Himself.

So Jacob afterwards. He had to sustain the burthen
and heat of a long and toilsome day, ere he could possess
himself of Rachel. The law of her people, the law
of her country, and the oppressive exactions of the
covetous Laban, had put him on these terms. He had
to endure the constant consuming of sun and moon,
to toil night and day, and have his exile lengthened
out, or go without his Rachel.

Joseph, ere he got his Asenath, was separated from
his brethren.

The same thing we see in Moses. He too was
separated from his brethren. And still more, he
*earned* Zipporah. He rescued her from oppression,
then opened the well to her and her flock, and then
her father owned his claim to her hand. So with his
second wife. He had to take her at the expense of
his good name with his own kindred; she was a black
Ethiopian, and did not suit the thoughts of his brother
and sister. But he bore the reproach, and married the
Ethiopian.

In each of these marriages (typical as well as real)
we see *the character* of the Bridegroom; we see the
Lord Jesus Christ possessing Himself of His Bride
*at some personal cost*. Whether it be humiliation and
suffering, as in Adam, toil and weariness and conflict,
as in Jacob, separation and dreary loneliness, as
in Joseph, or mere reproach, as doing a thing unworthy
of him, as in Moses, still it is, in principle, a *suffering*
Bridegroom that we see.

And I might notice Boaz, another type of the same.
He was a mighty man of wealth, but he pleads the
cause of a poor gleaner in his fields; he allows her
approaches and her suit, and takes her to him to wife.
He is not ashamed to make a destitute stranger, who
but a day before depended on the bounty of his hand,
the companion of his wealth and honour, and the
builder of his house and name among the tribes of
Israel. And thus the marriage of Boaz tells out the
same mystery, that the Bridegroom of the Church is
the One who had before been humbled to redeem her,
and make her His own.

.. vspace:: 2

Not only, however, in types and illustrations is this
great truth set forth, but in the plain teaching of Scripture
also. It is said, that Christ loved the Church,
then gave Himself for it, then sanctified it by the
washing of the Word--and all this, that He might
present it worthily to Himself as His Bride. Eph. v.
Here, doctrinally, or in the way of plain teaching, we
have the *Lamb the Bridegroom*; for ere He takes the
Church *He gives Himself for her*. He takes to wife
the one whom He had afore purchased with blood.

In Old Testament Scriptures, the same thing is
taught, as between the Lord and Jerusalem, which is,
*in principle*, the same as Christ and the Church.

Thus, in Isaiah it is said, Thy Maker is thy Husband,
thy Redeemer--the whole passage showing
Jerusalem taken up by the Lord in simple loving-kindness,
He owning one that, like the Ethiopian or
like Ruth, might be a reproach to Him. liv.

So Jeremiah represents the Lord in the very same
grace, taking Jerusalem even after she had proved
herself unfaithful, and been legally and judicially put
away. iii.

Hosea is made the representative of the same. i.-iii.
He buys his wife (iii. 2), he washes and cleanses her, as
well as bears the reproach of espousing one in herself
so worthless and lost.

So in the striking picture of Ezekiel. Jerusalem is
looked at in her loathsome, offensive degradation; but
when not one eye pitied, the Lord not only took
compassion on, but quickened, washed, clothed, anointed,
beautified, and endowed her, and did not stop till He
had taken her to Himself. xvi.

Thus is it in the teachings or voices of the prophets,
as in the early types and shadows; both and all telling
out the mystery, that *the Lamb* is the *Bridegroom*, that
the One who at the end seats her in the companionship
of His glory, had before redeemed her by His
blood, washed and purified her by His Word and Spirit,
suffered reproach for her (Luke xix. 7), and gone down
to her in her ruin, ere He could take her up to His
estate and honour.

This is the mystery of the Divine Bridegroom. All
human tales or fables fall short of this, let the imagination
that wrought them up be as fervent as it may.
This is the mystery of a love that passes knowledge
between Christ and the Church. She must love Him
for the service He has shown her; He must love her
for the cost she has put Him to. She will find herself
for ever by the side of One who so loved her as to die
for her. He will see one by His side who so engaged
Him that He was willing to go through with His
affection, though the cost of loving her would take (to
speak after the manner of men) all that He was worth.
He cannot but prize her supremely, and so she Him.
This only difference may be observed--that His love
was proved ere she became His, for He had beforehand
counted the cost of loving her--her love, later and
more backward, and only in the second place, began on
her knowing His love for her. For Christ, as the
Bridegroom (as in everything else, whether of grace or
glory, Col. i.), is to have "the pre-eminence." In the
character of His love He entirely outshines the love
of the bride, and leaves hers, as it were, no love at all,
by reason of the love that excelleth.

.. vspace:: 2

But having thus looked at the Bridegroom, I would,
in like manner, see the Bride for a moment or two.
But I must limit myself, and will, therefore, only trace
her as reflected in the Book of Genesis.

*Eve* is, of course, the earliest type. In her we see the
personal characteristics of the bride: she is formed
by the Lord for Adam. Adam's joy in a helpmeet was
what the Lord proposed to Himself when He began
to form Eve. He had respect to Adam's need and joy
in this work. And when Adam receives Eve from the
hand of the Lord, his words express his satisfaction
in her, vindicating the Lord's workmanship, that His
hand had accomplished the design which His love had
undertaken. Eve was fitted to Adam. This was her
full personal beauty. He owned her bone of his bone,
and flesh of his flesh. *All in her was attractiveness.*
She entirely answered the expectations, and satisfied
the heart, of him for whom she had been formed. He
took her and clave to her (Gen. ii.); and this, we know,
is a type of Christ and the Church. Eph. v.

*Sarah* is the next distinguished female in that book;
and she is a mystic person also. But it is not the
Bride whom she expresses, but the Mother. So that
I will not particularly notice her. For Abraham is
"the father of all them that believe"--and Sarah is
"the free woman" or, in an allegory, "the mother of
us all" (Gal. iv.), linked with the family of God in the
place of the mother, rather than with the Lord as His
Bride. So that I pass her by.

*Rebecca* comes next in this holy line, and in her we
have the Bride again, as in Eve. But great and blessed
truths connected with the Bride are told in Rebecca.
She is separated from Isaac. He is far away, and
has never seen her. But Rebecca is the father's choice,
and Eliezer's care, till Isaac receives her. Isaac
longed for her. That is shown by his going forth in
solitariness to meditate at eventide. But beyond the
sense of this loneliness, we do not see Isaac doing or
suffering anything for her. The council about the wife
is taken between Abraham and Eliezer. They settle
the whole plan. And Eliezer, in beautiful, self-denying
service, goes on toil and travel to secure this elect
Bride for Isaac. And he does secure her. And he
prepares her for him. He not only separates her from
her kindred and her father's house, but conducts her
across the desert; on the way, doubtless, telling her
many a tale of him whose she was so soon to be--till
at length he gives her safely into Isaac's hand, and
Isaac, like Adam, is comforted in his Bride.

This is a beautiful light in which to look at the
Bride; the one who is brought home to her lord from
the distant land, having been the object of the father's
choice, and of the servant's care. This is a mystery.
And in it we get the Lord receiving His Bride at the
hand of the Father and of the Holy Ghost, chosen for
Him, and given to Him, He having nothing to do
but to take her at their hand, and to find in her, as
Isaac found in Rebecca, the relief of his solitariness,
the inmate of his tent, and the companion of all his
joys.

*Rachel*, next in order, shows herself to us. And in her
we get the Bride again, though in a different character.
Here we find the one who was to own and enjoy her,
travelling and toiling for her. And this is just as true,
in the mystery, as the other. For, in one sense, Christ
has only to receive His Bride at the hand of the Father
and the Holy Ghost, the gift of the one and the workmanship
of the other--but, in another sense, He has
Himself gone into the distant land, and (as I have
already been observing on the Bridegroom) laboured
and been put to reproach and wrong for her. In all
this, Jacob sets forth the true Bridegroom. The Lord
Jesus personally has borne the heat of the day *all
alone*. He had not where to lay His head, like Jacob--absent
from His Father's house, and the place of
His inheritance--wronged again and again in a world
which, like Laban and his house, ever seeks its own;
and yet, enduring all this, and willing to endure all
this, for the love that He had to her whom His eye had
rested on; as Jacob's seven years of service seemed to
him but as a few days, because of his love for Rachel.

This is as striking a picture of the truth as we have
yet seen; here the same mystery of the Bride is
still published to us, though still in a distinct part of
it. In Eve, we had her full personal fitness for her
Lord--in Rebecca, we had her as the object of the
Father's election and the Spirit's care, in order to
give her to Christ--in Rachel, we see her as the
prize, whom the Lord sets before His own eye, for the
sake of which He will give Himself to exile and toil
and wrongs. As reflected in Isaac, He has nothing
to do for her; as reflected in Jacob, He has everything
to do for her.

*Asenath* closes these wonders. She is the woman
of the fourth generation of the Patriarchs. There is
the Sarah of Abraham, the Rebecca of Isaac, the
Rachel of Jacob, and the Asenath of Joseph. She
now in her turn takes up the same mystic tale. She
was a Gentile, and in nowise, like the rest, connected
in the flesh with Joseph. The enmity of his brethren
had cast Joseph among her people. And he is
honoured there, and with these strange and Gentile
honours gets a Gentile bride and family; and in the
bosom of this unexpected joy he is willing to forget,
for a season, his father's house, and to account himself
fruitful or happy, though among strangers.

This, in its season, is as full of meaning as any of
our previous pages in this tale of the Bride. For
here we get the Bride in her Gentile, heavenly character.
Here we are told a great secret; that this same
personage, whose beauty and personal characteristics
we saw in Eve, whose election by the Father and conduct
under the hand of the Spirit we saw in Rebecca,
and whose purchase for Himself by the personal toil
and sorrow of Christ we saw in Rachel, is a *Gentile*, a
*Stranger*, one brought into union with the Lord, after
His own kindred in the flesh had refused Him.

All this speaks clearly in the ear of the scribe that
is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven; he traces
the mystery of the Bride in all this, and listens to
Eve, to Rebecca, to Rachel, and to Asenath telling
out separate parts of it. And how does all this witness
to us *the delight which Christ takes in His saints*! It
is not merely that He has saved them by His blood,
but they are His crown and His joy, His glory and
His delight. His own love and workmanship have
been displayed in us, more highly than in any scene of
His power. And this joy of Christ in His saints is
strongly expressed in each of these cases. We love
Him for the sorrows He has endured, and He loves
us who thus prize His love. John xiv. 21. And if these
affections be not understood as passing between Christ
and the saint, if we do not, without reserve, allow this
satisfaction in each other, our souls will not enter into
much of that communion which the Scripture provides
for. The Canticles will not be understood, if we do
not allow and entertain the thought of Christ's delight
in the saints, with the same certainty that we allow
the thought of His having purchased and sanctified
them by His blood.

But this communion must spring from intelligence
of the soul, or it will be mere natural fervour. When
Ruth sought the feet of Boaz, and did not again go
to the gleaning-field, it was because Naomi had been
instructing her further about him. Her soul had
passed through the light of Naomi's words, and, thus
taught, she desires more intimate fellowship with him
than she had yet enjoyed. She seeks *himself*. The
gleaning-field, where she was less than his handmaids,
is deserted, and the place of a suitor for himself is
assumed. She cannot call herself less than one of
his handmaids any longer. She seeks a kinsman's
love, for she knows him to be a kinsman. And this
is truly blessed.

.. vspace:: 2

Love, or desire towards another, takes different forms
in the heart. There is the love of *pity*, the love of
*gratitude*, and the love of *complacency*. The love of pity
regards its object in some sort as *below* it, and is full of
tenderness. The love of gratitude, on the contrary,
regards its object as *above* it, and is full of humility.
The love of complacency does not necessarily look
either above or below, but simply at its object, and is
full of admiration. But, in addition to this, there is
the love of *kindred*. It has its foundation in nature,
and hence it is called "natural affection." And this
love of kindred has a glory which is peculiarly its own.
*It warrants the deepest intimacies.* There is no settling
of one's self for the other's presence. There is full ease
in going out and coming in. *Expressions* of love are
not deemed intrusive--nay, they are sanctioned as being
due and comely. The heart knows its right to indulge
itself over its object, and that, too, without check or
shame. This is the glory of this affection. The love
of pity, of gratitude, or of complacency, must act
decorously, and in proper form. But the love of kindred,
the love of those who dwell in one house, and whom
nature or the hand of God has bound together, feels its
right to gratify itself, and is not fearful of being rebuked.
See, for instance, Canticles viii. 1. This is its
distinguishing boast. Nothing admits this but itself.
This is, in a full and deep sense, "personal affection."

Parents and children, brothers and sisters, husbands
and wives (and I might add, friends), know this. They
know their title to indulge, without scorn or rebuke, in
the warmest expressions of their mutual love. And it
is the richest feast of the heart. The love of pity has
its enjoyment, and so have the love of gratitude and the
love of complacency; but they do not, in themselves
and alone, warrant these *personal* fervours. Personally,
their objects may be below, above, or at a distance, and
should be approached with a due respect to all their
rights. But not so with our kindred, because it is their
*persons* and not *their qualities* or *conditions*, that form
the ground of our love. We may deal with them without
apology or reserve. In such cases it is *himself* that
the heart embraces. It is not his sorrows, his favours,
or his excellencies, but it is himself, which this affection
handles and converses with.

We may receive a benefit from a person, and be
assured of a hearty welcome to it, and yet feel ourselves
ill at ease in his presence. Nothing is more
common than this. Gratitude is awakened in the heart
very deeply, and yet reserve and uneasiness are felt.
It calls for something beyond our assurance of his
good-will, and of our full welcome to his service, to
make us at ease in the presence of a benefactor. And
this something, I believe, is the discovery that we
have an interest in *himself*, as well as in his *ability to
serve us*.

This delineates, as I judge, the experience of the
poor woman with the issue of blood. Mark v. She
knew the Lord's ability to relieve her sorrow, and her
hearty welcome to avail herself of it. She, therefore,
comes and takes the virtue out of Him without reserve.
But she comes *behind Him*. This expresses her state
of mind. She knows her welcome to His service, but
nothing more. But the Lord trains her heart for more.
He lets her know that she is interested in *Himself*,
as well as in *His power to oblige her*. He calls her
"daughter." He owns kindred or relationship with
her. This was the communication which alone was
equal to remove her fears and trembling. Her rich
and mighty patron is her kinsman. This is what her
heart needed to know. Without this, in the spirit of
her mind, she would have been still "behind" Him.
But this gives her ease. "Go in peace" may then be
said, as well as "Be whole of thy plague." She need
not be reserved. Christ does not deal with her as a
patron or benefactor. Luke xxii. 25. She has an
interest in *Himself* as well as in His *power to bless
her*. And so as to the Canticles. It is the love which
warrants *personal intimacy* (after this manner of the
nearest and dearest relationships) that breathes in this
lovely book. The age of the union has not yet arrived.
But it is the time of betrothment, and we are His
delight. Nay, it was so ere worlds were. Prov. viii.

Do we believe this? Does it make us happy? We
are, naturally, suspicious of any offer to make us
happy in God. Because our moral sense, our natural
conscience, tells us of our having lost all right even to
His ordinary blessings. The mere moral sense will
therefore be quick to stand to it, and question all overtures
of peace from heaven, and be ready to challenge
their reality. But here comes the vigour of the spiritual
mind, or the energy of faith. Faith gainsays these
conclusions of nature. It refuses at times to think
according to the moral sense of nature, as it refuses at
times to act according to the relative claims of nature.
In their place, the dictates of the moral sense and the
claims of nature are sacred-—as we read, "Doth not
even *nature* itself teach you, that if a man have long
hair it is a shame unto him?" But still they are
not supreme. If God put in His claim, or make His
revelation, the *relations* of nature and the *moral sense*
of nature are to withdraw their authority. "He that
loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy
of Me." And in the revelation of God, faith reads
our abundant title to be near to Him and happy with
Him, though natural conscience and our sense of the
fitness of things would have it otherwise. Faith feeds
where the moral sensibilities of the natural mind would
count it presuming even to tread.

I ask, then, Do we ponder, without reserve or suspicion,
the thought of such love towards us in the
heart of Jesus as this book suggests? Does it make
us happy? We owe the love of children to God
as our Father, the love of redeemed ones to God as
our Saviour, the love of disciples to Jesus as our
Master and Lord. But what is the love that we owe
for this way of Christ's heart to us? How are we to
meet it in a way worthy of it? This book, I believe,
tells us. But this conducts the soul into the holiest.
And what grief, and shame, and trouble of heart
arise, when we reflect how little we are there, and
how many tales against us all this is ever telling!

.. vspace:: 2

The Canticles do not give us the ways of filial
affection, or of the affection due to a benefactor. But
they give us, I believe, the actings of the love of
espousals, in both Christ's heart and ours. The joy
of hearing the Bridegroom's voice, I may say, is fulfilled
here in the heart of the saint, as it was in the
soul of the Baptist. And what, I would ask, are the
attributes of a commanding affection like this? What
do we find the power of it to be, when it seats itself
in us?

As to *service*, it makes it welcome. To say that
service for the object of this affection is "perfect
freedom" is far too cold. It makes service infinitely
grateful, even though it call for self-denial or weariness.
And it can render its offering without caring
for any eye or heart to approve it, but that of the one
whom it has made its object. It cares not that others
should be able to esteem its ways. It has all the
desired fruit of its service, if its object approve it,
and give but its presence at the end of it. As to
*society*, this affection wants none but that of its object.
If there be no weariness felt in service, as we have
been saying, so is there no irksomeness known in
solitude. All that is cared for is the presence of that
one who commands the heart. There is no sense of
solitude, if that one *alone* be present; there is no sense
of satiety, though that one be *always* present. As to
*authority in the soul*, it holds its place, I need not say,
unrivalled. It is the man of the heart. It breaks
the bands and cuts the cords of other desires. It
makes us undervalue all things but the one. It may
take other things up, but this is only by the way. It
is ever glancing at its own thing, even if others be for
a time in the foreground. It looks through the lattices
at it. Other things are esteemed according to their
connection with it. And it will control the wrong and
cultivate the right tendencies of the heart; for occasions
which might wound vanity or gratify pride are not
valued or pursued, while we retain it; and yet to
approve ourselves there, we will nerve the heart and
the hand to great and generous ways.

What intenseness is here! and what purity also! It
refreshes the soul to think that we have been created
susceptible of such affections. But the warning of
another is in season. "Wherever a passion has these
properties, or any of them, conspicuous in it, it cannot,
but by being consecrated to God, avoid becoming injurious
to Him and to itself. The very nobleness of it
entitles Him to it." But the same one tells us that we
should seek, not to *annihilate*, but to *transfigure* it. He
says, "I would not have it swallowed up by death, the
common fate, but be ennobled by a destiny like that of
Enoch and Elias, who, having ceased to converse with
mortals, died not, but were translated to heaven."

It is good for us to listen to this. The heart has
been made deeply susceptible of this affection, and
Christ is the offered object of it. He proposes Himself
to it. He claims the supreme place in our hearts.
"He that loveth father or mother more than Me, is
not worthy of Me." Whatever passion of the soul
be moved, it is God's right to have the highest exercise
of it towards Himself. It has not treated Him as God
if it have not rendered this to Him. If each of the
passions of our souls do not give Him its richest and
largest offerings, it is not a *worshipping* passion.

This we may readily grant, needing, however, increase
of grace ourselves to be worshippers on such a score.
In the language of another; "as, among the Jews, there
were odoriferous unguents, which it was neither unusual
nor unlawful to use themselves or bestow upon their
friends, but also a peculiar composition of a precious
ointment, which God having reserved for His own
service, the perfuming of others with it was sacrilege,
so there are regulated degrees of love which we may
harbour for others, but there is too a certain peculiar
strain of love which belongs unto God." Exod. xxx.
34-38. It is, I may add, idolatry when bestowed on a
creature, but it is worship when rendered to Him.

This may sound a solemn truth, but it is a happy one.
Is it not blessed to know that our Lord claims our
hearts and their affections? Have any of us, beloved,
read "the first and great commandment" without, at
least, sometimes rejoicing in the grace that would make
such a demand upon us? Mark xii. 30. Is it nothing
to us that God Himself values our love, that He says to
us, "My son, give Me thine heart"? The wise virgins
delighted in such truth. Many had gone out with them,
professing the common expectation. The foolish had
lamps. They took their place in the common profession.
But the wise counted the cost of the Bridegroom's
absence, and the hope of His return. In the spirit of
their minds they had said that, let His delay be long or
short, they must still wait, for that nothing could satisfy
them but His presence. The night of His absence
might be long or short-—they could not tell—-they
would not undertake to say. It might be, as to its
length, a summer night, or a winter night. But their
hearts deeply owned this—-that nothing could close,
nothing could turn that shadow of death into the
morning, but the restored presence of the Bridegroom.
On this their souls were fixed. And, therefore, they
took vessels of oil, as well as lamps. They prepared for
a night season, they counted on a darksome time, till
Jesus returned. The expectation of their heart so
supremely pointed to Him, that nothing could change
hope to fruition but His presence; they must be expecting,
expecting, and still expecting, till then. "Hope
to the end" they purposed to do, for the grace that
was to be brought to them at the revelation of Jesus
Christ. It was a *worshipping* hope.

The early freshness faded, I doubt not. This may
sustain us who are so conscious of the dulness and
stupidity of our hearts. The brightness of that moment
when the lamp was first lit is dimmed. "While the
Bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept." But
the reality of supreme delight in Christ, and desire after
Him, had not departed. The vessels were still at the
side of the slumbering virgins. The oil had not to be
*bought*, but only to be *used* afresh.

How does all this, as in a parable, tell of the heart
cleaving to Jesus! And our Canticles express the same.
And our own poets have sung of this love, as well as
these mystic songs of the King of Israel:

   |
   |  "Jesus has all my powers possess'd,
   |    My hopes, my fears, my joys,
   |  He, the dear Sovereign of my breast,
   |    Shall still command my voice.
   |
   |  "Some of the fairest choirs above
   |    Shall flock around my song,
   |  With joy to hear the name they love
   |    Sound from a mortal's tongue."
   |

The Church receives such breathings as not beyond
the measure or the melody of the soul. And we want
these affections to make us happy, and to set us free.
It is a divine method of delivering us from the tyranny
of carnal or worldly desires. It is the Spirit's way of
spoiling other attractions of their power to seduce
and fill the heart, and of lifting the soul above the
frettings of low anxieties. Look at the commanding
power of such affection in the poor sinner in Luke vii.
Working in her heart as it did, she was deaf to the
reproaches and blind to the splendours of the Pharisee
and his entertainment. She knew only her Object.
The feast and the guests were all lost upon her. This
was the *power* of affection in her. And what was the
*value* of it to Christ? Nothing that it dictated or did
passed His notice. He appeared to be silent, and but
the passive Receiver of her offerings; but He had
noted them all. The tears, and the kiss, and the
ointment, and all, had been noted in the book of His
remembrance, and they are read therefrom, when the
time for the opening of that book had come.

And look at the same in Mary at the sepulchre.
She sees the angels. And they were dazzling, beautiful
in their generation, and wondrous to the eye of
flesh and blood. But what was all splendour to her
then? The dead body of her Lord was her object,
the fond image of her heart, and even heavenly glories
can be passed by in the pursuit of it. So with David
of old. His soul was full of joy in the Lord. He
will dance before the ark, he would "play before the
Lord;" and if such were shame, he purposed to be
viler still. As with Zaccheus too, not a king like
David, but a mere citizen of Jericho (for the Spirit
links rich and poor, high and low, gentle and simple,
as we speak, in one affection), he would press through
the crowd, and without seeming to give the strangeness
of the deed a thought, climb into a sycamore tree in
pursuit of the desire which then commanded his heart.

Would that this, beloved, were more shed abroad in
our hearts! How should we learn to entertain Christ,
as this passion entertains or embalms its object! And
what a heaven it will be, when He is ours in this way,
feeding this fire in our souls, and giving us to know,
in Himself and in His beauties, this seraph love without
chill for ever and ever!

Would that our hearts were longing for Him! This
is what we find breathed in the Canticles. It is not
*filial* love or *grateful* love that would ever send this
message, Tell him that "I am sick of love." It is more
than that. Such is not the language of those affections,
but such is the language of the Canticles. And, therefore,
we cannot say less of this book, than that it is,
after a mystic manner, the utterances of Christ and
of a living, espoused soul--all springing from the faith
which gives the soul the happy assurance of acceptance
and favour with God through the Lord Jesus Christ.

.. vspace:: 2

As to the structure of it as a composition, I doubt
not, for a moment, the correctness of those who treat
it as "a collection of distinct idyls or little poems
perfectly detached and separate from each other, with
no other connection than what they derive from a
common subject, the peculiarities of the style of a
common author, and perhaps some unity of design in
the mystic sense, which they are intended to bear."
The spiritual senses of the saints are to be exercised
in discerning the beginnings and endings of these
different canticles or little songs, and in interpreting
the holy mysteries they express. Different light, and
different enjoyment in doing it, may surely be expected
among us. But that these songs or little poems are
allegories, we will none of us doubt. The intercourses
of an espoused pair are the imagery; the love of Christ
and the saint, the mystic sense. And warranted, I
am sure, are the suggestions of another on this subject,
"that there are those manifestations of His love, and
those affections kindled in the heart towards the person
of the Son of God, which may well borrow their
allusions from the tenderest and most powerful affection
which subsists among men." "As the bridegroom
rejoices over the bride, so shall thy God rejoice over
thee." "The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is
mighty; He will save, He will rejoice over thee with
joy; He will rest in His love, He will joy over thee with
singing." "So shall the king greatly desire thy beauty."
"Thou shalt abide for me many days ... thou shalt
not be for another man: so will I also be for thee."
"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved
the Church." These and kindred passages, with many
typical histories in Scripture, and some ordinances of
the law, all warrant this thought, as well as the character
of the Spirit's inworking at times in the souls of
the saints.

.. vspace:: 2

The divine authority of this book has never been
questioned in any way worthy of the least regard
from those who walk simply in the light of God,
refusing man and his thoughts and his wisdom.
"Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is
the disputer of this world?" It was ever reverenced
by the Jews as a part of the oracles of God, and in
that character, we may assure ourselves, received the
sanction of Christ, and of the Holy Ghost in the
Apostles. No one should pause for a moment to
admit its value to the soul of the saint. "We may,"
as has been well said, "form but a guess concerning
some of its beauties, but, in the hands of a Christian,
it is invested with a brighter lustre than they could
have discerned, who read it in the days of Solomon.
For though, in regard to the exterior imagery of the
allegories, some of their beauties may be lost, the
hidden mystic sense is brought more to light, and
manifested with fuller assurance to the believer under
the Gospel dispensation. 'For I tell you that many
prophets and kings have desired to see those things which
ye see, and have not seen them.'"

.. vspace:: 2

There is no inquiry into the fact or the ground or
the nature of our acceptance with God, in this book.
Such questions and inquiries are settled beforehand.
The communion is *upon* the settlement of them all,
as I have already noticed. Acceptance with God is
known. It is delight in Christ, occupation with Himself,
that we get here. It is not the finding of Him
out, nor is it the confession of sins. The communion
is a *sinner's* communion, most surely--but it is of a
consciously pardoned, accepted, and loved sinner. And
when any sorrow or repentance is felt or owned, it
is not for any blot or open transgression, but for
some spiritual backsliding, some momentary coldness,
some infirmity in maintaining or cultivating the soul's
due fervour. This is much to be observed. Nothing
gross, or even open, in conduct--nothing established
as a habit is detected here--nothing that a soul that
had not been already in simple and earnest fellowship
with Jesus would have been apprehensive of. It is
only *a present, temporary slothfulness of heart*. The
very repentance and confession is of such a nature as
intimates the fine tone of the soul that could feel and
make it. The contact or touch is so tender, that the
very perception of it speaks the delicacy of the organ
which met it and resented it.

But what an element is this! Oh, how coarse,
beloved, are our sensibilities compared with all this.
Our poor souls are rarely here; they are engaged
ofttimes in doing first works again, in grieving over the
advantages which our lusts have taken of us, the surprisals
which the heat of wrong tempers has wrought,
and such like things. But all such occupation of the
soul keeps us below this pure and spiritual delight in
Christ, this sickness of love, this breathing on the
mountains of myrrh, and this dressing and keeping
of the garden of spices, here so blessedly presented.
Surely it is but little of this we know. Is God our
exceeding joy? Is it in the chambers of the King,
in thoughts of glory, we walk? Is our spikenard
greeting our Lord, and are our souls able to call Him
nothing less than our "Beloved"? It were well indeed
if such affections as these were filling and commanding
our hearts. Then should we have weapons
of sure victory wherewith to meet our enemies, and
to beat down the intrusive desires and thoughts that
defile us so often. In the figurative style of another
we may say: "As when, in a clear morning, the rising
sun vouchsafes to visit us, the bright stars which did
adorn our hemisphere, as well as those dark shades
which did benight it, vanish." Lust could not with
any power come against a soul thus occupied. This
"joy of the Lord" would indeed be our "strength."
For what a dwelling-place opens here for faith to
enter! What a banqueting-house for the soul! How
far distant from fear and clouds of conscience such
regions lie! The land of the turtle is this, the garden
of all pleasant fruits.

But where is the precious faith to enter it and walk
there? We need to cry for largeness of heart in the
bowels of Christ Jesus. It is of influence on the
whole soul to be occupied with such affections. It
strengthens and sanctifies--for all questions of our
*standing* are anticipated, and our energy in *meeting
temptation* is increased, and thus the *liberty* and *purity*
of the soul are secured. For how can the thought
of *condemnation* or the temptation to *defilement* be
entertained, when the believer is seeking to reach more
into the light and joy of such communion as this?
Does it not lead him into more than a mere escape from
a spirit of bondage, or from practical evil? Is it not
the divine method of making him more than conqueror?

As expressing such communion as this, this book of
the Song of Songs may suit any saint. Not, however,
that I mean, that we may necessarily follow one path
of experience, and go from one stage therein to another.
But according to the soul's enlarging knowledge of
Jesus, so will, of course, be its enlarging experience.
And there ought to be *progress*--as we read, "Grow in
grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ." And as the different relations in which
the Lord stands to us are apprehended and embraced
by the soul, corresponding experiences will arise, for
experience is our entrance into the power of these
relations. And the Canticles I judge to be the utterances
of the soul at one point of this journey, from the
first quickening to the full and final enjoyment. It is
not the experience of Rebecca when first awakened to
leave Mesopotamia, nor of Ruth, when first made ready,
in Moab, to take the God of Naomi as her God, nor as
afterwards a gleaner in the field--it is the exercise of
Rebecca's heart, while on the way to Isaac, listening to
the tales of her gracious and wise conductor, and of
Ruth at the feet of Boaz, as the suitor of his hand and
name.

This is the general moral of the book. But this
being so, I can the more admire the perfectness of
the Spirit in making this a short book. It is of too
intimate a character to have been much spread out.
It lies within. It is the recesses of the Temple. It
was called by the Jews the "holy of holies." And
that was the smallest place, as well as the most retired.
It expressed the deepest character of communion with
God. There was one communion at the Brazen Altar
or the Brazen Laver in the courts--another in the holy
place, at the Table, the Candlestick, and the Altar--and
another in the presence of the Lord Himself, in the
holiest. And of this character of communion is that
which the Canticles express. It may be that the soul
cannot at all times enter into it. Ruth would not have
been prepared for laying herself at the feet of Boaz
when she entered his field as a gleaner. The teaching
she got from Naomi was needed to bring her into the
threshing-floor.

And this little book seems to open with the soul
expressing all this. It opens with strong and fervent
desire toward *Himself*; reaching forth to apprehend
Him in some more intimate manner than had been
previously understood. It is as though the saint had
been conscious of being in a lower condition than
would now satisfy. For at times the soul rests itself
simply on the firm ground of doctrines; such as "The
blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all
sin." It is the simple and sure power of such truth
that alone answers, at times, the need of the soul.
But again, at times, the ground under our feet, as
believers, is understood and rested on, and it is the
Lord Himself that the soul desires. And such is its
condition here. "Let Him kiss me with the kisses of
His mouth." She had been keeping the vineyards--attending
to things abroad, but now was learning that
her own vineyard had been neglected; and the deeper
things of personal fellowship are longed for. The
saint is leaving Martha's and taking Mary's place,
longing to feed under His own eye and from His own
hand, and not another's. And at the close, the soul
appears to know that *it had become a keeper of its own
vineyard*. At the beginning there had been the grief
that the vineyards of others had been kept, but that
her own had been neglected (i. 6); but now, it is conscious
of being more at home, more about its own
vineyard; as though it had left the Martha place, busy
about many things, and assumed the Mary place, at
the feet of Jesus in personal communion. viii. 12.

This is the advance, the conscious, happy advance,
which the soul makes through these exercises. It has
reached a higher order of communion with the Lord,
and it desires that this may continue till Jesus return.

.. vspace:: 2

The very style of the writing, too, is just that which
suits the heart under the power of a commanding affection.
"Let *Him* kiss me with the kisses of His mouth"--like
Mary Magdalene to the supposed gardener--"If
thou have borne *Him* hence"--both *meaning* Christ, but
neither *naming* Him. For "the heart had been before
taken up with the thoughts of Him, and to *this relative*
these thoughts were the antecedent--that good matter
which the heart was inditing. For they that are full of
Christ themselves are ready to think that others should
be so too." Or, it is as the language of the Apostle, who
*means* the day of glory and of the kingdom without
*naming* it, when he says, "I know whom I have believed,
and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I
have committed unto Him against *that day*;" and again,
"Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness,
which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give
me at *that day*."

Thus is it, in the very style and manner of the renewed
mind, eyeing, as it does, both the Lord Himself and the
glory. And blessed are these affections. The truth or
the doctrine of the Gospel is no cold, rigid system.
Surely our souls must know this. It is at times laid down
in propositions, taking the form of an argument, deducing
conclusions from adequate and proved premises. But
still the Gospel calls for the warmest affections, and
abundantly provides for them. *Even the Canticles themselves
never pass beyond the strict bounds of the Gospel--they
never exceed that measure which the strictest rules of
evangelic truth would prescribe.* So that we should
interpret these little songs or idyls in the light of the
didactic Scriptures, as we may profitably read those
Scriptures in the warmth of these Canticles. The Apostle
says, "I have espoused you to one Husband, that I may
present you as a chaste virgin to Christ." This assumes
all that is in the Canticles. And in this way, the Gospel,
in its strictest meaning, will account for all that is in
Solomon's Song. The latter delineates those affections
which well suit such truths and revelations as the former
teaches or delivers. But this being so important, as
I judge, I desire to instance it in a few particulars.

In these idyls, the Lord looks on the saint as altogether
lovely. And so in His eyes is the believer.
A sinner in himself, he has, by faith, taken on him
the beauty of Christ. He is "in Him." He has "the
righteousness of God" upon him. He is "accepted
in the Beloved." Faith alone gives him all this comeliness.
He has been baptized into Christ, and put
on Christ. This is the beauty of the believer; and he
is lovely in Christ's eye, as the Canticles again and
again express.

Indeed in this form of beauty there can be no spot.
For it is Christ Himself that the believer is arrayed
with. The very "best robe" in the Father's house is
on him. It is a spotless beauty he shines in. The
doctrine of the Gospel teaches us this, and here Christ
utters His delight in it; such harmonies are there
between the Gospels and the Canticles.

But further. In the mystery of Christ and the
believer, Christ has a mountain of myrrh to which He
here invites the believer to turn his steps--and St. Paul
exhorts us, "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those
things which are above, where Christ sitteth." The
believer mounts those hills with Jesus as here invited,
and as in the Gospel exhorted. His conversation is in
heaven. In Christ he sits in heavenly places. And he
savours of the myrrh and the frankincense which are
there.

Again, the Lord delights in the graces of His
saint. He rests, with the love of complacency, in the
believer who walks in the Spirit before Him. John
xv. 10. She is an enclosed garden under His eye, a
spring shut up, a fountain sealed. As we read, the
Spirit is in him, a well of water springing up into
everlasting life. He has the savour of the spices, and
the flowings of the living water, *in himself*, and the
fragrancy and freshness of these gladden his Lord
anew. This is the teaching of the Gospel, and this
is the language of Christ in the Canticles. He delights
in what is *in us* through the Spirit, as well as in
what is *on* us through faith. He has His joy in the
places of communion with His elect here, as in the
heaven to which He has ascended.

This is largely told us in Scripture. "Hearken, O
daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget
also thine own people and thy father's house, *so* shall
the King greatly desire thy beauty; for He is thy
Lord, and worship thou Him." Psalm xlv. Here is
something beyond *imputed* beauty. For here we learn
the grace in her which kindles His desire. She has
forgotten her own people and her father's house, so
the King desires her. And she owns Him as Lord, and
worships Him. She will render Him affection and
homage. And all of this suited and attractive grace
was shown in Rebecca. *She left all for Isaac.* She
forgot her own people and her father's house, and
came across an unknown desert in company with a
stranger, in the singleness and devotedness of an undivided
heart. And on reaching him for whom she
had consented to all this, *she lights from her beast, and
veils herself*. She puts on the ornament of a meek
and quiet spirit. She arrays herself in shamefacedness
and sobriety. She loves, and yet bows. And *so*
Isaac desires her. And so is the Church to be *subject*
to Christ, and yet *love* Him with virgin love. Eph. v.;
2 Cor. xi. 2. [#]_

.. [#] Affection begets confidence. Rebecca committed herself to Eliezer,
   *never asking her father or brother for an escort*. So the more singly
   we love Jesus, the more confidently will our souls trust Him and His
   supplies for us alone, without confidence in the flesh or anything else.

And in the Canticles we find the Spirit of Christ
inviting His saint into the liberty of this present time,
into the atmosphere of a house where the cry of adoption
is heard. All the darker and colder age is passed.
All that dispensation which kept the soul in bondage
and fear is over. The voice of the turtle is heard;
the voice of that perfect love which casts out fear.
"The darkness is past, and the true light now shineth,"
says St. John, as though he had the Canticles in mind.
The saint should now arise, taking his place as the
*loved* and the *fair* one, being in the full consciousness
of personal unspottedness and beauty, through grace,
and of his Lord's perfect favour and delight. He
should come away from "the spirit of fear," and pass
over into the spirit of love and of power "and of a
sound mind." For all in the dispensation is gladdening.
The flowers appear on the earth, and the singing of
birds is heard. All is promise, all pledge, and earnest,
and seal, and unction.

And again, if the betrothed one of the Canticles *say*,
"While the King sitteth at His table, my spikenard
sendeth forth the smell thereof," the disciple in the
gospel *does* this. John xii. 3.

And, according to all this, we may observe how some
of the tenderest utterances of this book are warranted
by the simple narratives of the Gospel. If the beloved
watch over the restored soul with the fondest jealousy,
not allowing the busy foot of others to disturb the
silent, hidden rest of the loved one, what does Jesus do
in the favoured house at Bethany less than this? How
does He check the motions of Martha? Ch. ii. 7;
Luke x. 41. [#]_

.. [#] "Till *she* please," it ought to be, as the "love" is the female in
   this book. Ch. ii. 7; iii. 5; vii. 4.

The great moral principles of truth are also strictly
and fully understood here, though under very delicate
and spiritual illustrations. St. James says, "Ye ask,
and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume
it upon your lusts." In this book we read, "By
night upon my bed I sought Him whom my soul
loveth; I sought Him, but I found Him not." The
great moral principle, that *there is a seeking which does
not find*, is equally owned in each of these scriptures;
but the one has a much more delicate exhibition of it
than the other. Jesus is here sought *on the bed*, that is,
in some listlessness of mind. The bed may be the
place of *meditation* (Psalm lxiii.; Isa. xxvi.), but not of
*seeking*, which demands action. And thus the seeker
*on the bed*, the listless, drowsy inquirer after the Lord,
will not, till he pass through discipline, as here
(iii. 1-5), find Him.

If Christ again and again express His deep satisfaction
in her, through this book, what have we less
than this in the strict teaching of Scripture? Did He
not find, at the beginning, that His "delights were with
the sons of men"? and at the end, when He sees of
the travail of His soul for us, will He not be "satisfied"?
Prov. viii.; Isa. liii. If the sinner be content
with Him, so is He equally with the sinner. The
woman at the well, it is true, forgot her waterpot for
Him; but He forgot His *thirst* for her, and that was
greater. And then, in like enjoyment of spirit, He
said, on the very same occasion, "I have meat to eat
that ye know not of." John iv.

From the first to the latest moment of our Christian
history, our power to refresh the mind of our Lord is
deeply and fully owned in Scripture. Our earliest confidence
in Him as sinners sets Him at once at a feast
(as we have just seen, John iv. 32), there to make
merry with his friends (Luke xv. 9); for angels rejoice.
The recovery of a wanderer has like joy for Him.
Read the utterance of the divine affection over repentant
Ephraim, in Jer. xxxi. 20. And what under
the eye, and to the heart of our Lord, are the comely
walk of the saints, and their goings in the sanctuary?
Is not "a meek and quiet spirit" in God's sight "of
great price"? Does not the pure behaviour of the
believer *please* Him, convey complacency or delight to
the divine mind? 1 Thess. iv. 1. And how is such
complacency in us witnessed again and again by the
promise that He will manifest Himself to us, and make
His abode with us! John xiv.

Does not all this make good the suggestions of this
book? And so, in the Gospels as well as in the Canticles,
is not Christ borne away in the chariots of
Amminadib, the chariots of His willing people?
Where, I ask, did the report of the seventy bear Him?
Luke x. 17, 18. Where did the desire of the Greeks
translate Him? John xii. 21-23. And the faith of the
Gentile soldier could, for a moment, hold His spirit in
delight and admiration, and then bear Him onward
to the glory, when the East and the West shall send
home the children of the kingdom with Abraham and
Isaac and Jacob. Matt. viii. 8-11.

But the affection which can be thus *gratified* may
be *wounded*. These are among the properties of love.
You may grieve as well as refresh the loving heart.
And so it is with our Lord, both in the Canticles and
in the Gospels; as we read also in the Epistles, "*Grieve*
not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed
unto the day of redemption."

And again. The betrothed one here knows that the
heavens (symbolized by hills and mountains) have
received her Beloved. But she knows also that though
He be *at home* there, like a roe or a young hart upon
its *native* hills, yet that He delights in communion
with her, and visits her, desirously looking through the
lattices. And further still; she knows that her duty
it is to watch against intrusion and disturbance, as the
keepers of a vineyard would watch against the young
foxes. And I ask, Is not all this the truth, the enjoyment,
and the practical energy, again and again
recognized and enforced in the teaching of the Gospel?
We know that the heavens have received Jesus
until "the times of refreshing." We know that He
makes His present abode with the saint, and manifests
Himself to him, as He does not unto the world. And
we know that there is to be energy and watchfulness
that we "walk in the spirit," and not "in the flesh," if
we would taste and enjoy these manifestations of His
name to our souls.

So, still further, there is a garden, in this book,
under the tillage of the north wind and the south
wind, that it may yield its fruits and its spices to the
Lord. And does not the severer style of the New
Testament abundantly admit the idea? The Father
Himself is the Husbandman of a vine which He digs
about and dungs; and the saint is as a field that
drinketh in the rain from heaven, to yield herbs meet
for Him by whom it is dressed. John xv.; Heb. vi.

In the imagery here we have Christ as a Suitor at
the door, asking of the one He loves admission from
"the drops of the night;" and in the New Testament
we have Him standing and knocking at the reluctant
heart, desiring that entertainment which revived and
zealous affection would surely provide Him. Rev. iii. 20.
And well for us, beloved, if our lukewarm Laodiceanism
do but depart, like the drowsiness of this dear one
in this lovely mystic song. Chap. v. 2-16.

And I know not that the constant self-congratulation
of the espoused one in this book is a whit beyond that
of Paul. She can always talk of her Beloved being
hers, and say moreover, "I am my Beloved's, and His
desire is towards me." But he can also always, in
spirit, sing (let the toil and wear of life be what
they may), "The life that I live in the flesh I live by the
faith of the Son of God, *Who loved me, and gave Himself
for me*." And that is the language of Paul, happy in
the assurance of Christ's devoted love to him. [#]_

.. [#] It is commonly interpreted as though Paul, in Gal. ii. 20, were
   expressing his *devotedness* to his Master. But this is not so. This
   robs the verse of its exquisite glory. He is rather speaking of the
   joy of his soul in the knowledge of what a devoted and glorious Lover
   he had.

If, I may also say, in the imagery of this book, the
loved saint can say, "I sat down under His shadow
with great delight, and His fruit was sweet to my
taste," the plainer style of an epistle is not less fervent.
"Whom having not seen, ye love; in Whom, though
now ye see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy
unspeakable and full of glory." Surely the heart is
equally in possession of an Object which it knows
is fitted to answer all its desires.

And further still. We have, in the actions of this
book, souls in different elevations, the betrothed one,
and "the daughters of Jerusalem." How much is that
known among themselves, and contemplated in the
illustrations and teachings of the New Testament!
All are not fully formed--not fully in the measure of
the stature, so to express it. "We have a little sister,
and she hath no breasts." All are not alike in the
liberty of the dispensation. Such draw out the sympathy
of the saint established in the grace of God, and
solicitous care, and prayer, and inquiry of the Lord, are
made about such, as here. See chap. viii. 8.

Indeed, I know not that anything can be more in
the harmonies of the Spirit, in the combined and
glowing lights of the Gospel, than the utterance of the
betrothed one in this short passage. Chap. viii. 8-10.
The actings of her soul, both towards others and towards
the Lord, are the Spirit's sweetest and choicest workmanship.
She has respect to "the infirmity of the
weak," desiring for them strength and edifying in the
fuller measure of Christ, and yet all the time owning
full oneness and relationship with them in Him, while
she rejoices in her own certain, happy assurance, and
the fulness of her growth, even to an ecstasy, that
her breasts were like towers! and because of that,
knowing her Lord's favour towards her, and delight
in her. And sure we may be, that all this is purely
and richly the way of a believing, renewed soul. Full
adoption of the weak, with desires for their larger
liberty and assurance, and yet certainty of personal
standing in the most undimmed joy of entire assurance,
with perfect persuasion that all this liberty and confidence
were thoroughly to the heart and mind of Jesus.

Nothing can be more perfect, I believe, than all this
in the harmonies and lights of a spiritual mind,
according to the strictest sense of evangelic truth.

So again and again, in the gospel history, we find Jesus
led to forget His sorrows when beholding faith in a
sinner. He found there, as I have already stated, the
refreshment of His spirit. He found a transient
forgetting of His sorrows among the Samaritans, from
the Centurion, from Zaccheus, and from the spikenard
and fellowship of Mary. He seeks the same here. He
comes to His espoused one, that He might find, in
fellowship with her, some other and far different thing
than that rejection and refusal which He was ever
meeting in the world. And is it not also so, that if the
saint be sluggish and careless, the faithful kindred in
Christ will help the discipline? If Jesus say, "Could
ye not watch with Me one hour?" Paul will say, "Quit
you like men, be strong." So in the action of this book.
Jesus leaves a memorial of the soul's drowsiness on
"the hole of the door," that the conscience may take
alarm; and the watchman of the city smite her, and the
keepers of the walls draw the veil from her face. Chap. v.

The harmonies of the "one Spirit" are heard in all
this. And so, in the course of these little songs, I
discern the way of the Lord toward a repentant,
recovered soul. See chap. vi. 4-13. She had just
refused to open her door to Him, but, through discipline,
had been brought to fervent communion with
Him again. v. 2-vi. 3. And now His eye and His
heart are full of her again. He looks on her as beautiful
as ever. She is His "undefiled," and nothing less;
no upbraidings pass His lips. Her motion towards Him
is comely and graceful in His esteem. And He lets
her know that her repentance had given Him pleasant
and wondrous refreshment. As soon as she was made
willing (Psalm cx. 2), He got into a chariot to bear Him
away speedily and joyously to her. vi. 12, margin.
She may be a wonder to herself, she may take a place
unworthy of any notice (v. 13); but the Lord and angels
rejoice over her. As we know in the Gospels, the
ninety and nine just ones can be left for the one
prodigal; the angels in heaven rejoice; the house
makes merry; the friends of the beloved triumph over
the returned Shulamite. She is like the returned
Jacob: the Mahanaim, the hosts of God, salute them
both, wait at the threshold of the land or of the house,
to do their Lord's pleasure toward them, and express
His welcome and concern for them. Gen. xxxii. 1;
Cant. vi. 13. [#]_

.. [#] Another once observed to me, that in the Canticles, the Beloved
   expresses *directly to herself* the beauties He discerns in her; the
   betrothed one never does this, but recites His beauties *in the ears of
   others*; and further observed, that there was great moral propriety in
   this, something quite according to the dictate of a delicate affection.

And what is the longing here but that the day
should break? And what is the longing of the same
soul in the words of the Gospel? "Come, Lord Jesus,
come quickly,"--so largely and so exactly do the teachings
and the breathings of the New Testament, in
these and kindred ways, measure the affections of the
heart in this book? Christ dwells in the heart by
faith. Christ lies all night between the breasts. Eph.
iii. 17; Cant. i. 13. And has not the saint attuned his
heart over Jesus in language of like fervour, such as
we all use without shame?

   |
   |  "How tedious and tasteless the hours
   |    When Jesus no longer I see,
   |  Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flowers,
   |    Have lost all their sweetness for me;
   |  The midsummer sun shines but dim,
   |    The fields strive in vain to look gay,
   |  But when I am happy in Him,
   |    December's as pleasant as May.
   |
   |  "His name yields the richest perfume,
   |    And sweeter than music His voice,
   |  His presence disperses my gloom,
   |    And makes all within me rejoice:
   |  I should, were He always so nigh,
   |    Have nothing to wish or to fear,
   |  No mortal so happy as I,
   |    My summer would last the whole year."
   |

These are among the seals set upon this beautiful
portion of God's Word by the spiritual mind of the
believer, and also by kindred truths and principles
found in other scriptures. And it has been happily
said, that "if there be no express allusion to this book
in the New Testament, the same allegory, as portraying
the same truth, evidently appears to have been familiar
to the minds of the writers of it, and to the minds
also of the people whom they addressed. Not more
abruptly does John the Baptist, for instance, refer to
our Lord as 'the Lamb of God who taketh away the
sin of the world,' as being the character of the Messiah
which all would know and understand, than he does
to the same blessed Person in the character of the
Bridegroom of the Church--'he that hath the Bride
is the Bridegroom.'"

And is it not seasonable, in these days of growing
irreligiousness and worldliness, to warn one another,
beloved, to keep our minds incorrupt in the simplicity
that is in Christ? In the preparation-season, which
the present age is, and which the Canticles contemplate,
Eve was getting ready, under the forming hand
of God, for Adam, and for Adam *only*. Adam slept
for Eve, and Eve was made for Adam. So with
Christ and the Church. He slept in death for us,
and we are preparing, under the Holy Ghost, for Him.
"I have espoused you to *one* husband, that I may
present you as a chaste virgin to Christ." As he says
also in another place, "My little children, of whom I
travail in birth again till *Christ* be formed in you,"
Christ, and Christ only, Christ in His precious sufficiency
for a sinner, in answer to the Hagar or Galatian
thought of "days, and months, and times, and years,"
that other gospel which yet is not another.

But this is assailed. The Gospel, in its claim on
the sinner to give his undivided confidence to Christ,
has been abroad on the lips of a thousand witnesses,
to the gladdening of thousands of souls. The enemy
has watched and hated this. Working in the scene
in which he goes "to and fro" and "up and down"
(Job i. 7), he is busy to seduce the heart from this
Gospel. And is not his success far beyond the measure
of the fears of any of us? The religion of fleshly
confidences or of ordinances is to this hour among us.
It admits of worldliness; and worldliness is, at this
same hour, flourishing in company with it. There is
the erection of temples for worship, and of palaces for
the worshippers; stricter care to observe, in its season,
due attendance in the sanctuary, together with unparalleled
skill and energy and enterprise in advancing
the indulgence and elegance of human life, so as
to make the world a *desirable* and *safe* place to live
in--a place where religion may now be seen to be
observed and honoured.

This is all seductive from the principle of faith--this
is corruption of the mind from the simplicity that is in
Christ. The Gospel addresses itself to man, not only as
a *guilty* but as a *religious* creature. It finds him under
the power of *superstition* or *religiousness*, as well as of
sin. It is as natural for man to refuse to go into the
judgment-hall lest he should be defiled, as it is, in very
enmity to God, to cry out, "Crucify Him, crucify Him."
And the Gospel gets as stern a refusal from the *religious*
man as from the *lustful* man. As the Divine Teacher
tells us, the harlot goes into the kingdom before the
Pharisee.

Religious vanities are deeply playing their part in
our day, and fascinating many souls. What answer,
beloved, do you and I give them? Is Jesus so precious
that no allurement has power? Is the virgin purity of
the mind still kept? and as chaste ones are we still
betrothed to Christ only? Like the newly-formed Eve,
are we in our place of earliest, freshest presentation to
our Lord? or have we, apart from His side, opened our
ear to the serpent?

The kingdom of heaven is as a supper, a royal, joyous
feast got ready for sinners, that they might taste and
see that the Lord is good, and that blessed is the man
that trusteth in Him. It does not put God in the place
of a *receiver*, for man *to bring Him His due*; but it puts
Him in the place of a *giver*, and man is called *to value
His blessing*. But the question is, Who listens, with
desirous heart, to the bidding? Who wears "the wedding
garment"? Who prizes Christ? Who triumphs in His
salvation? Who longs for the day of His espousals?
John had this garment on him, knowing, as he did, the
joy of being the Bridegroom's friend. It was flowing
at liberty on Mary's shoulders, as she sat at her Lord's
feet and heard His words. Paul tucked it tight about
him when he said, "God forbid that I should glory save
in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." The eunuch
had just put it on as "he went his way rejoicing"
in the faith of the name of Jesus. Every sinner
adorns himself with it the moment his heart values
Christ. And what joy is it thus to know that when
we put on Christ it is not "sackcloth" we put on,
nor is it "the spirit of heaviness" we enter into, but
"a wedding garment" has clothed us, and with "the
garment of praise" we array our spirits!

Have we thus learned "the kingdom of heaven"?
Have we, in spirit, entered it as a banqueting-hall
where both magnificence and joy welcome us? Are
we, consciously, guests at the marriage of a King's
Son? Have we learnt the mysteries of the faith?
Have we gazed at them? Has the musing over them
kindled a fire in the heart to burn up the chaff of
worldly rudiments? Paul had this element in his soul
as he travelled through Greece. And how did the
glow of these mysteries address itself to "the princes
of the world" there? It consumed them all. "Where
is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer
of this world?" Precious ardour of the Spirit! What
a pile was thus fired in the famed cities of the learned
and the wise! and how were all the thoughts of men
thrown as rubbish into it!

And how did he treat the rudiments of the *religious*
world? He bore the same fervent sense of Christ with
him into their regions, to test what chaff and dross were
there. In Galatia he found much of it; but he spared
none of it. Though an angel from heaven gather such
rubbish; though Peter himself help in the work;
though the Galatians, who once would have plucked
out their eyes for him, be enticed, nothing should stand
before the heat of the Spirit that bore him onward.
"O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?...
Ye observe days, and months, and times, and years.
I am afraid of you."

Could he do less? Could he carry Jesus in his
heart, and calmly stand and measure his light with the
lights of Greece, or God's great ordinance with man's
traditions?

It is to make much of Christ we want, beloved--much
of Himself, and His glorious achievements for
sinners. We want simplicity in that sense of the word--the
breathings of a soul content with Him, and
the peace of a conscience for ever at rest in His
sufficiency. "What think ye of Christ?" is the test,
as a dear hymn well known among us has it--

   |
   |  "Some call Him a Saviour, in word,
   |    But mix their own works with His plan,
   |  And hope He His help will afford,
   |    When they have done all that they can:
   |  If doing prove rather too light
   |    (A little they own they may fail),
   |  They purpose to make up full weight
   |    By casting His name in the scale.
   |
   |  "Some style Him the pearl of great price,
   |    And say He's the fountain of joys,
   |  Yet feed upon folly and vice,
   |    And cleave to the world and its toys--
   |  Like Judas, the Saviour they kiss,
   |    And, while they salute Him, betray--
   |  Ah, what will profession like this
   |    Avail in His terrible day!
   |
   |  "If asked what of Jesus I think,
   |    Though all my best thoughts are but poor,
   |  I say, He's my meat and my drink,
   |    My life, and my strength, and my store;
   |  My Shepherd, my Husband, my Friend,
   |    My Saviour from sin and from thrall,
   |  My hope from beginning to end,
   |    My portion, my Lord, and my all."
   |

May these thoughts and affections be ours. They
are the sweet witness of the one faith, the one Lord,
the one Spirit (Eph. iv.), for they express the leading,
ruling mind of the Canticles. There the soul in
kindred affection has but one object, but that one
is enough. It is satisfied, and never for a moment
looks for a second. It has the "Beloved," and cares
for nothing else. If it grieve, it is over the want of
capacity to enjoy Him. It seeks for nothing but Jesus,
lamenting only that it is not more fully and altogether
with Him. And this is the experience we have to
desire--to find in the Lord a satisfying object, a cure
for the wanderings of the poor heart, which, till it fix
on Him, will go about and still say, "Who will show
us any good?" "The labour of the foolish wearieth
every one of them, because he knoweth not how to
go to the city."

"That unsatisfiedness with transitory fruitions which
men deplore as the *unhappiness* of their nature is
indeed the *privilege* of it." Just indeed, and truly to
be prized, is such a sentiment. For this thirsting
again, this spending of "labour for that which satisfieth
not," casts the heart on Jesus, As this has ever
been, so is it now. The building of palaces, the
planting of vineyards, the getting of singing-men and
singing-women, the multiplying of the delights of the
children of men, all these efforts and travails of the
heart take their course and have their way still.
Eccles. ii. But Jesus revealed to the heart, as in this
book, commands these thoughts and purposes away.
It speaks the language of the blessed Lord Himself;
and the experience in it is the experience of the poor
woman who was able to leave her pitcher at the well--"Whosoever 
drinketh of this water shall thirst again:
but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give
him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give
him shall be in him a well of water springing up into
everlasting life."

.. vspace:: 2

"I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the
Bright and Morning Star.... Even so, come, Lord
Jesus."

.. vspace:: 4

.. class:: center large

   _`HEAVEN AND EARTH`.

.. vspace:: 2

"In the beginning God created the heaven and the
earth." The scene of the divine handiwork was
twofold; and, accordingly, "in the dispensation of the
fulness of times," God will display Himself again, both
in *heaven* and on *earth*.

I would begin my meditation on this divine subject
with Genesis i-xlvii., which presents, I judge, a beautiful
view of the Lord acting, by turns, as in heaven
and on earth, till, at the close, we find them together
in a way typical of what their connection and yet
distinctness will be in that coming dispensation of the
fulness of times. May our meditations be always
submitted to His truth and Spirit, and conducted in
the temper of worshippers.

.. vspace:: 2

:small-caps:`Genesis I. II.`—-It was only of the *earth* that Adam
was made lord. The garden was his residence, and he
was to replenish and subdue the earth. This was the
limitation of his inheritance and of his enjoyments.
He knew of heaven only as he saw it above him, and
by its lights dividing his day and his night. But he
had no thoughts which linked him, personally, with it.

.. vspace:: 2

III.—-But Adam transgressed and lost the garden,
and became a drudge in the earth, instead of being the
happy lord of it. Gen. iii. 17-19. He was now to get a
bare existence out of it, till he was laid down in death
upon it.

.. vspace:: 2

IV. V.—-Such was his changed condition. To cling
to the earth now as one's delight and portion was
to act in bold defiance of the Lord of judgment. And
such was the spirit of Cain and his family. He
thought the earth good enough for God, and desired
nothing better for himself. He gave God the fruit of
it, and built a city for himself on the face of it, furnishing
it with desirable things of all sorts, unmoved by
the thought of the blood with which his own hand
had stained it, and of the presence of the Lord, on
whom he had turned his back. But such was not
Adam, or Abel, or Seth, or that line of worshippers
who "call on the name of the Lord." They have in
the earth only a burying-place. But grace having
provided a remedy for them as sinners, and righteousness
having separated them from a cursed earth, they
believe in the remedy, and seek no place or memorial
in the earth, and the Lord gives them a higher and a
richer inheritance, even in *heaven* with Himself, as
signified in the translation of Enoch.

.. vspace:: 2

VI.-IX.—-But though the Lord is thus removing
the scene of His counsels and the hopes of His
elect from earth to heaven, yet the earth is not given
up. It is, we know, destined to rejoice, by-and-by, in
the liberty of the glory; or, as I have already quoted,
in "the dispensation of the fulness of times." Eph. i. 9,
10. And, accordingly, this purpose the Lord will at
times rehearse and illustrate, as He does now, in due
season, in the history of Noah.

The heavenly family, as we have just seen, only died
both to and in the earth. They could speak, it is true,
both of its coming judgment and blessing. Enoch
foretold of the one, and Lamech of the other. Jude 14;
Gen. v. 29. But they were, neither of them, *in* the
scenes they thus talked about. But Noah, who comes
after them, is a man of *the earth* again. In his day
the earth re-appears as the scene of divine care and
delight. God has communion with man upon it again.
It has passed through the judgment of the water, and
God makes a covenant with it, has the prophet, priest,
and king upon it, providing for its continuance and godly
government. Noah's connection with it was quite
unlike that of either Cain or Seth. He did not, like
the former, fill it and enjoy it in defiance of God; nor
did he, like the latter, take merely a burying-place in
it; but he enjoyed the whole of it under the Lord.
The Lord sanctioned his inheritance of it, his dominion
over it, and his delight in it.

.. vspace:: 2

X. XI.—-Thus the earth, in its turn, again takes up
the wondrous tale, and is the care and object of
the Lord. But again it becomes corrupt before Him.
Noah himself, like Adam, begins this sad history, and
the builders of Babel, like another family of Cain,
perfect the apostasy, seeking to fill the earth with
themselves independently of God. They were mighty
hunters before the Lord. They scoured the face of
the earth, as though they asked, in infidel pride, "Where
is the God of judgment?"

.. vspace:: 2

XII.-XXXVI.—-This, however, was not allowed.
Another judgment comes upon them. They are scattered,
and the whole human social order is awfully
broken up. But Abram is called out to find his fellowship
with God, apart from the world. His family dwelt
in Mesopotamia beyond the Euphrates. He came from
the stock of Shem, but was a worshipper of idols, as
all the nations were. But sovereign grace distinguishes
him, and the God of glory calls him forth from kindred,
from home, and from country.

It is a call, however, that does not interfere with the
order of the earth, or government among the nations.
He is called to be a *stranger*, and not a rival of "the
powers," or a new-modelled governor of any people.
He walks with God as the God of glory--a higher
character than that of the one by whom "the powers
that be are ordained." He is a pilgrim and stranger on
earth, and walks as a *heavenly man*. He has promise
that *his seed* and *inheritance in the earth* shall become
linked together by-and-by; but he, with Isaac and
Jacob, dwell in tents all their days, and a tent life is
that of a stranger here, of one that is not at home and
at rest.

Here, then, we have a heavenly people again--heavenly
in the character of their walk, and heavenly,
like Enoch or Lamech, in their intelligence about the
earth's future history, and the promise to their seed of
inheritance in it in due season. But we have still
deeper and fuller mysteries in the history of him who
comes after them.

.. vspace:: 2

XXXVII.-XLVII.--Through the wickedness of his
brethren, as we all know, for it is a favourite story,
Joseph is estranged from the scene of the promised
and covenanted inheritance, and becomes first a
sufferer, and then a husband, a father, and a governor,
in the midst of a distant people; till at last his
brethren, who once hated him, and the inhabitants
of the earth, are fed and ruled by him in grace and
wisdom.

Nothing can be more expressive than all this. It is
a striking exhibition of the great result purposed of
God "in the dispensation of the fulness of times."
Joseph is cast among the Gentiles; and there, after
sorrow and bondage, becomes the exalted one, and the
head and father of a family with such joy, that his
heart for a season can afford to forget his kindred in
the flesh. This surely is Christ in heaven now, exalted
after His sorrows, and with Him the Church taken from
among the Gentiles, made His companion and joy
during the season of His estrangement from Israel.
But in process of time Joseph is made the depositary
and the dispenser of the world's resources; his brethren,
as well as all beside, become dependent on him; he
feeds them and rules them according to his pleasure.
And this as surely is Christ, as He will be in the earth
by-and-by, with Israel brought to repentance and
seated in the fairest portion of the earth, and with all
the nations under His sceptre, when He will order
them according to His wisdom, feed them out of His
stores, and re-settle them in their inheritance in peace
and righteousness.

Surely the heavens and the earth are, in type, here
seen, as they will really be in "the dispensation of the
fulness of times," when all things, both in heaven and
on earth, shall be gathered together in Christ. Surely
this is a rehearsal of the great result, and the heavens
and the earth tell out together the mystery of God!

And I cannot but observe the willing, unmurmuring
subjection which the Egyptians yield to Joseph. He
moves them hither and thither, and settles them as he
likes, but all is welcome to them; and so, in the days
of the kingdom, the whole world will be ready to say,
Jesus has done all things well. What blessedness!
Subjection to Jesus, but willing and glad subjection!
His sceptre getting its approval and its welcome from
all over whom it waves and asserts its power!

And again I observe that all this power of Joseph
is held in full consent of Pharaoh's supremacy. The
people, and the cattle, and the lands, are all bought
by Joseph *for* Pharaoh. It is Pharaoh's kingdom still,
though under Joseph's administration--as in the kingdom
of which this is the type, every tongue shall
confess Jesus Lord, to *the glory of God the Father*.

These features give clear expression and character to
the picture. But there is one other touch (the touch of
a master's hand, I would reverently say) in this picture
which is not inferior in meaning or in beauty to any.
I mean, that in all this settlement of the earth, Asenath
and the children get no portion. They are not seen;
there is no mention of them even. Jacob may get
Goshen; but Asenath, Ephraim, and Manasseh, nothing.
Is it that the wife and children were loved less, and
the father and brethren more? Nay, that cannot be.
But Asenath and the children are heavenly, and have
their portion, the rather in and with him who is the
lord and dispenser of all this, and they cannot mingle
in the interests and arrangements of the earth. Even
Goshen, the fairest and fattest of the land, is unworthy
of them. They are the family of the lord himself.
They share the home, and the presence, and the closest
endearments of him who is the happy and honoured
head of all this scene of glory.

Is not this the great result, in miniature or in type?
Have we not in all this that promised "dispensation of
the fulness of times," when God will gather together
in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven;
and which are on earth? Are not the heavens and the
earth here seen and heard together in their millennial
order? I surely judge that they are. "Known unto God
are all His works, from the beginning of the world."

.. vspace:: 2

But as we go on in the course of the divine dispensations,
earthly and heavenly scenes and purposes still
unfold themselves. Israel, in their turn, and after
these scenes in the hook of Genesis, become the witness
of God, and an *earthly* people. A portion of the world
is sanctified for God's possession and dwelling-place
again. As the deluge had purified the whole of it for
the divine power and presence in Noah's day, so the
sword of Joshua now purifies a portion of it for the
same divine power and presence in Israel. God has
His sanctuary and His throne in the land of Canaan.
He is worshipped in Jerusalem, and there His law
is dispensed. The glory is again in the earth. As
Lord of the earth, the God of Israel keeps court
and rule on the earth again. But all is corrupted again.
Canaan was defiled by the apostasy of Israel, as the
Noah-earth had been defiled by the tower of Babel.
Ezekiel, who was set as a watchman in the day of this
apostasy, sees therefore the glory on its way from
Jerusalem to *heaven*. It does not seek any other spot
on earth, but, being disturbed at Jerusalem by the
defilements there, it retreats to heaven. Ezekiel xi.

Up to this day of Ezekiel the glory had communicated
with Israel *in power*. It was a glory, or divine presence,
that had judged Egypt, guided the camp through the
desert, smitten the nations of Canaan, divided their
land among the tribes, and then seated itself in the
temple and on the throne at Jerusalem. All this was
the glory *in power*. But, as we have seen, Israel
had now forfeited it, and it returns to heaven. But it
had another character in which to show itself. This
same glory, or the divine presence, God Himself, returns
veiled in the person of Jesus; in whom, as a rejected
Galilean, or carpenter's son, having not where to lay His
head, worse off in the world than the birds or the foxes,
it went about in the land of Israel in fullest grace,
healing, preaching, toiling, watching; poor, yet enriching
others; thirsty and hungry, yet feeding thousands,
and in every thing as simply and surely declaring itself
to be the glory, as it did when it divided the waters of
Jordan, or threw down the walls of Jericho. Only it
was the glory in its *grace* now, as it had been the glory
in its *power* then. In this form, however, Israel, or the
earth, forfeited it also, though it did not leave the earth
in the same way. Of old, when rejected in its power,
it left the earth of itself, in righteous anger resenting
the affront done to its majesty, and withdrawing itself
in judgment (Ezek. i.-xi.); but now, being rejected
in its grace, it is at last rather sent away than withdraws
itself. But still, whether we see the glory in
power or in grace, the earth has forfeited it, and it is
now hid in the heavens. See Acts vii. 55.

This is the history of the glory since Ezekiel xi. to
the ascension of Jesus. And it is again where the
prophet of God saw it going in that chapter, that is,
in heaven. Only it is now gathering the fulness of
the Gentiles there, receiving to itself the "holy brethren,
partakers of the heavenly calling." The Holy
Ghost has come forth to tell us here of the glory there,
to form us into association with its own wondrous
history, or to make its portion our portion.

Such is the place, and such the action, of the glory
now.

But there is another stage in its history still. Ezekiel
sees it return to the very spot from whence it set out.
Ezekiel xliii. It had never sought any other place
on earth. If Zion be unprepared for Jesus, the earth
must lose Him, for of Zion alone has He said, "This
is my rest for ever." But the glory does return, as
we see in that chapter of Ezekiel. And then will
arise that system commonly known by the name of
"the millennium," when Jesus will become the centre,
the true ladder which Jacob saw, the sustainer of all
things in heaven and on earth, reconciling all by His
blood, and then gathering all in Himself to spread His
glories over all. See Isaiah iv. 5, 6.

Thus the two parts of the future kingdom, the
heavenly and the earthly, have been pledged again
and again from the beginning; one witness after
another, called forth in the dispensations, has, as we
have seen, been telling of His counsels; and the
millennium will be the owning of these pledges, and
the accomplishment of the promises of these heavenly
and earthly witnesses.

It has been grateful to my own soul to think of the
*intercourse* of heaven with earth, in the progress of
this varied and wondrous history. I mean in the
visions, or the dreams, or the angelic visits, which at
times the people of God have enjoyed. The audiences
of divine oracles are of this character also. All these
show that the heavens had access to the earth, and
had but to pass through a thin veil to meet or reach it.

While the earth was undefiled, the Lord God walked
in the garden. And afterwards, though He was in
some sense estranged from earth, yet He was ever
ready to visit it in the behalf of His elect, as in the
histories of Abraham, Joshua, Gideon, and others.
The ladder which Jacob saw, with its top in heaven
and its foot on the earth; the passing and repassing of
Moses in and out between the Lord and the people;
the elders going up and seeing the God of Israel;
Solomon's ascent from his own house up to the house
of the Lord, these are notices of intercourse between
the heavens and the earth in the days of the kingdom.
So that bright and memorable hour, when Jesus was
transfigured, in company with Moses and Elias, in the
sight of Peter, James, and John. So the occasional
appearances of Christ to His disciples after He had
risen. And so the vision of the descending and
ascending sheet. The heavenly things at such moments
unfold themselves to the eye of man, and give sweet
notice of their nearness to us. We do not as yet
perceive this nearness, for the glory is not yet in its
millennial place over the city of the Jews; but faith
reads these notices of this nearness, and understands
them. Isaiah iv. Faith, in Elisha, knew that the Lord
of hosts was nigh, and he prayed that his servant
might have his eye opened to see that the mountains
around him were filled with the chariots and horses of
heaven; and in the millennial kingdom all this will be
to sight. The heavenly glory, or glory of the golden
city, will shine over the Jerusalem of the land of
Israel. On all her habitations it will be a covering.
The ladder will be erected, with its head in the heavens
and its foot on the earth; the same blessed Lord will
be the centre of all things; and, as in the different
parts of one temple, the services of praise and joy will
be celebrated, every tongue confessing Jesus Lord, to
the glory of God the Father.

The *pure moral happiness* that will be enjoyed by
reason of this intercourse, is also sweetly pictured in
different types and prophecies. As at the meeting of
Jethro and Moses, of Solomon and the Queen of the
South; as in Isaiah lx., or on the holy Mount, or in the
holy Jerusalem. What right affections do we find in
all these intercourses! What pure social pleasures are,
as I have said, pictured before us! At the mount of
God how naturally Moses at once takes the place of
the inferior, and Aaron too; and how gracefully Jethro,
representing the heavenly man, fills the duties and
wears the honours of their superior! And with what
joy of heart, and praise on his lips, does he listen to
the tale of God's mercies to Israel! In the Queen of
the South what unenvious and ungrudging generosity
of soul we witness, and in Solomon what readiness to
make her happy! He tells her all that was in her
heart, and more besides, filling her with such light and
joy, that, it is said, there was no more spirit in her;
and she returns home, not to envy his greatness, but
to spread the report of it. From Isaiah lx. we learn
how gladly will all the nations, in the day of the
kingdom, wait on Jerusalem with their treasures. Even
like the flight of doves to their windows will be the
willing-hearted journeys of the dromedaries of Midian,
or the voyages of the ships of Tarshish, with their
treasures and their spoils, to nourish the joy and glory
of Zion. They will delight to do her honour, and all
will be with the glow and fervency of a free-will
offering. As afterwards, in the case of Peter on the
holy Mount; when he awoke to the sight and sense of
the heavenly glory, such joy filled his soul as, at once,
and by its own necessity, expelled all selfishness from
his heart. It was not Peter properly who spoke, but
the virtue of the place, the spirit of the scene. He was,
as in the twinkling of an eye, so filled with the air and
breath of heaven, that he was ready to labour and let
other men enter into his labours. "Master, it is good
for us to be here," said he; "let us make three tabernacles,
one for Thee, and one for Moses, and one for
Elias." And, again, in the holy Jerusalem, what is the
commerce there between the families of God? All
that is most blessedly of the same great and generous
character. The kings bring their glory and honour up
to the light of the city, counting it their place and
their joy to do her honour, not lightly approaching her,
but, as owning her holy dignity, bringing *only their
glory and their honour* up to her. And she dispenses
her treasures with the same gracefulness. The leaves
of her tree, the light of her glory, the streams of her
living river, are all at the welcome disposal of the
nations.

All these shadowy expressions of the social delights
of millennial days will be deeply prized by us, if we
love the exercise of pure, unselfish affections.

But in this intercourse it is the heavens that will
visit the earth, and not the earth the heavens--the
people of the one will come down to the other, but not
the contrary--the people of the earth will only have
to receive and welcome the visitants from heaven.

The kingdom of nature, as we may call it, exhibits
this. For the earth gives nothing to heaven, but receives
from it; as the sunshine and the rain come down to
bless the earth, but the earth adds nothing in return. [#]_

.. [#] The saints of the present age, being heavenly in their calling,
   should be heavenly also in the spirit of their mind, and consciously,
   in all their tastes and desires, only as strangers, and not at home, in
   the earth; a people, as another once said, not as looking up from
   earth to heaven, but as looking down from heaven to earth.

But in this coming intercourse of the heavens and
the earth, when the people of the heavens go up and
down the mystic or millennial ladder, I have thought
that Scripture leads us to judge that there will be
change of raiment, or a certain veiling of their proper
glory, when they come down, and have communion
with the earth beneath them and under them.

The expression of this we get in the Lord's appearances
after He rose from the dead. For then He could
assume any veil which suited the business He had to
do, whether that of the gardener to Mary, that of a
travelling companion to the two going to Emmaus, or
that of a courteous stranger on the banks of the lake
to the fishermen. In such appearances He could not
be seen in heaven; but He could thus veil Himself
when the business He had in hand to do on the earth
required it. As of old, Moses was the unveiled Moses
in the presence of God, but the veiled Moses in the
sight of Aaron and the congregation. One suit of
raiment was fitted to heaven, another to earth. And
as also, in the case of the priests, they had such apparel
as became them when they were *within*, and they had
another dress wherein to appear *without*. They suited
themselves differently to the presence of God and the
people. See Lev. vi. 11; xvi. 4, 23, 24; Ezek. xlii. 14;
xiv. 19.

And, besides, we see this changeful appearance of
the Son of God in old times. He had various suits
wherein to show Himself, and wherein to veil the
brighter glory which was fit only to the higher regions.
He was in a burning bush at Horeb, in a cloudy chariot
through the wilderness, and as an armed soldier under
the walls of Jericho. Joshua v. 13. The business of
the kingdom, the concerns of the earth, called Him
here; and He appeared in a way suited to the business
He had to do. And all these are notices of the change
of raiment, in which those who are to govern "the
world to come," and to do the matters of the kingdom
on earth, may wait on their ministry here, and then
return to appear again unveiled in their more proper
heavenly places.

But in addition to this doctrine of heavenly and
earthly places and peoples, in the days of the coming
glory, and in addition to the truth of there being
blessed and wondrous intercourse between them, as I
have been shortly stating, we might meditate on some
of the joys and glories *peculiar* to each of them.

To rise and meet the Lord in the air is the hope
which is the most immediately upon the heart of the
believer. Then the going with Him to the mansions
in the Father's house. As He says, "I will come again,
and receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there
ye may be also." And that house will give exercise
to all those family affections which the heart so well
understands. The Father will be there, and the First-born
among many brethren, and the many brethren
themselves. And to extend these relationships, and
awaken affections to the full, there will be the marriage
there, and the now espoused or betrothed Church will
become the bride of the Lamb. Rev. xix.

There are scenes of glory also, and occasions of
other joy, accompanying this. In those heavens there
will be the "Holy Jerusalem," the dwelling of the
saints as a royal priestly people, the place of *government*
and of *worship*. And there will be the Tree of
Life, and the River of Life, and the Light, and the
Throne of God and the Lamb. And the saints will
be there as harpers, not having cymbals and timbrels of
merely *human* skill, fitted to raise the joys of earth
(Ps. xcviii.), but having "harps of God," instruments
of divine workmanship, fitted to awaken melody worthy
of heaven itself. And the enthroned elders will be
there, casting their crowns before the throne, and the
angels delighting to ascribe all power and authority
to the Lamb that was slain. [#]_

.. [#] Another once observed, that the moment of highest rapture in
   heaven is not when the saints *wear* their crowns, but when they
   *cast them down* before the throne. Rev. iv. 10.

And throughout all this there will be nothing to
trouble or to hinder. As on earth, in those days,
"nothing will hurt or destroy in all God's holy mountain,"
so, in the heavens, there will be no entrance to
anything defiling. There can be no enemies, for they
have been judged; no serpent, for he has been trodden
under foot. There will be no weariness of heart, no
coldness or dulness of soul, no fainting of spirit; but
the servants will serve without fault, and night and
day there will be the happy worship, "Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God Almighty."

This heaven too will be one scene of God's own
rest or sabbath; and the saints, in their measure tasting
the same refreshing, will dwell in that rest in bodies
fashioned like unto Christ's glorious body. They shall
be like Him in His glory, seeing Him as He is. They
shall shine "as the sun" in the kingdom of their
Father. In mind, body, and estate they will be conformed
to the Beloved. And there will be the seeing
or understanding of all the precious revelation of God,
not as through a glass, darkly, but as face to face,
knowing even as we are known. And there will be
the white stone; the hidden manna; the morning star;
the white robes, wherein to stand before the throne
of God; the white garments, wherein to walk with
the Lord through the dominions; and the white
raiment, wherein to sit on their own thrones. Rev.
ii. iii. All these will be ours then.

But this leads to a scripture which is very fruitful
in notices of heavenly joy and glory. I mean Rev.
ii. iii. The promises there made will be found, I
believe, to unroll before us, in holy and exact order, the
things which await the saints of the heavens in those
coming days.

:small-caps:`Ephesus.`--"To him that overcometh will I give to
eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the
paradise of God."

Those outside shall have the *leaves* of this same tree
for healing (Rev. xxii.), but the saints of the heavens
shall have more--the very fruit of the tree itself,
gathered, as it were, immediately from it, where it
grows in the midst of God's own garden; not the fruit
brought to them, but gathered by their own hands
off the very tree. Strong intimation of the freshness,
the constant freshness, of that life which is theirs. As
Jesus says (and what can pass beyond such words?),
"Because I live, ye shall live also." Here, in this
promise to Ephesus, is the tree of life partaken of
immediately by the heavenly saints. For this is their
portion, to receive life from the very fountains and
roots themselves, and there also to feed and to
nourish it.

:small-caps:`Smyrna.`--"Be thou faithful unto death, and I will
give thee a crown of life.... He that overcometh
shall not be hurt of the second death."

This is something beyond what had been said to
Ephesus. Life was regarded as *imparted* in its richest
form to Ephesus; but here we see it *gained* by Smyrna.
For Smyrna was sorely tried. Some were cast into
prison, and all of them were in tribulation. They were
to suffer many things, but they are promised, on being
faithful unto death, a *crown* of life. As James in like
manner speaks, "Blessed is the man that endureth
temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive
the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to
them that love Him." Here the crown of life is
promised to them who endure trial. And this is
beautiful in its season. The Lord delights to own the
faith of His saints; and if they have shown that they
loved not their life in this world unto death, it shall
be as though they had gained it in the world to come.
Life shall be a crown to them *there*, as the glorious
reward of their not having cared for it *here*.

:small-caps:`Pergamos.`--"To him that overcometh will I give to
eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white
stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no
man knoweth saving he that receiveth it."

We have another source of joy disclosed here. *Life*
is possessed, and that abundantly and honourably, as
we saw, at Ephesus and Smyrna; but there is here the
promise of another joy--*the sense of the Lord's personal
favour and affection*; communion with Him of such
kind as is known only by hearts closely knit together
in those delights and remembrances with which a
stranger could not intermeddle. This is here spoken
of to the faithful remnant in Pergamos. They had
held His faith in the midst of difficulties, and clung to
His name; and this should be rewarded with that
which is ever most precious--tokens of personal affection,
waking the delightful sense and assurance that the
heart of the Lord is knit to their heart. He will kiss
the saint "with the kisses of His mouth;" or, in the
midst of it all, give that pledge which shall speak it.
It is the *hidden* manna which is here fed upon; and
the stone here received has a name on it, which *none
know but he who receives it*. This, as another has said,
expresses individual affection. It is not public joy, but
delight in the conscious possession of the Lord's love.
How blessed a character of joy in the coming days is
this! *Life* possessed in abundance and in honour we
have already seen at Ephesus and Smyrna; but here,
at Pergamos, we advance to another possession--not
*glory* in any form of it as yet, but the blessed certainty
and consciousness of the Lord's *personal affection*.

:small-caps:`Thyatira.`--"He that overcometh, and keepeth my
works unto the end, to him will I give power over the
nations, and he shall rule them with a rod of iron;
as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to
shivers, even as I received of My Father; and I will
give him the morning star."

Here we reach *public scenes, scenes of power and
glory*. This is not merely life, though enjoyed never
so blessedly, nor simple personal affection and individual
joy, but here is something displayed in honour
and strength abroad; here are power and glory in the
first character in which the glories of the saints are
destined hereafter to be unfolded; *i.e.*, in their being
the companions of the Lord in the day when He
comes forth to make His enemies His footstool; or,
according to the decree of the second psalm, to break
them with a rod of iron, to dash them in pieces like
a potter's vessel. This will be His power just as He
takes the kingdom. This will be His ridding out all
that would have been inconsistent with the kingdom.
This will be the girding of the sword upon the thigh,
like David, ere the throne be ascended, like Solomon.
Psalm xlv. It will be the Rider's action, ere the reign
of the thousand years begins. Rev. xix. And in that
exercise of power, and display of glory, the saints (as
we are here instructed and promised) shall be with
Him. This is blessed in its place, and given to us in
due season; for, *after the life*, and the *personal, hidden
joy*, the *public glories* begin to be ushered forth.

:small-caps:`Sardis.`--"They shall walk with Me in white, for they
are worthy. He that overcometh, the same shall be
clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his
name out of the book of life, but I will confess his
name before My Father, and before His angels."

This is a stage onward in the scenes of glory. The
vengeance has been taken, the sword of Him who sits
on the white horse has done its righteous service, the
vessels of the potter have been broken, and the kingdom
has come. Jesus here promises to His faithful
ones that He will confess them before His Father and
His angels. This is not redeeming them from judgment,
or saving their souls (as we speak), but *publicly
owning them before the assembled dignities of the kingdom*.
He promises them that they shall walk with
Him in white, for they are worthy. That hand which
now in grace washes their feet, will then take hold of
them in holy, happy intimacy, and own full companionship
with them in the realms of glory. They shall
*walk* with Him.

What a character of joy is this! To be *publicly*
owned, as before (as we read of Pergamos) privately
and personally caressed. In how many ways does
the Spirit of God trace the coming joy of the saints!
The life, the love, the glory, that are reserved for
them; the tree of life, and its crown too; the white
stone, carrying to the deepest senses of the heart the
pledge of love; and then companionship with the
King of glory in His walks abroad through His bright
and happy dominions. But even more than this the
same Spirit has still to tell.

:small-caps:`Philadelphia.`—-"Him that overcometh will I make
a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go no
more out: and I will write upon him the name of My
God, and the name of the city of My God, which is
New Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven
from My God: and I will write upon him My new
name."

We have just seen the heir of the kingdom as the
companion of the Lord of the kingdom, abroad in the
light of the glory, walking there in white with Him,
owned before the Father and before the angels. Here
the promise is, that *the faithful one shall have his*
*place in the system of glory itself*, that he shall be of
that glorious order of kings and priests who shall
then form the character of the scene, each of them
being a pillar in the temple, and each enrolled as of
the city High and holy dignities! Each of the
faithful ones filling his place in the temple and the
city, a needed member of that royal priesthood then
established in their holy government in the heavens,
where the New Jerusalem abides and shines. What
honour is put on them here! Owned *abroad* in companionship
with the Lord, walking through the rich
and wide scene of glory; and also owned *within*, as
bearing, each in himself, a part of the glory, every
vessel needed to the full expression of the light of the
New Jerusalem, and formed as the vital part of the
fulness of Him who is to fill all in all! A king and a
priest, each of them occupying his several rank and
station in the temple and the city, the Salem of the
true Melchisedec. What a place of dignity! Surely
love delights to show what it can do, and will do. If
we had but hearts to prize these things, chiefly because
of their telling us of this love which has thus counselled
for us! For what higher, happier thought can we have,
even of glory itself, than that it is the manner in which
love lets us know what it will do for its elect one.
Poor, poor *heart* that moves so little at these things,
while the *mind* stirs the conception of them!

:small-caps:`Laodicea.`—-"To him that overcometh will I grant to
sit with Me in My throne, even as I also overcame, and
am set down with My Father in His throne."

Here *the highest point of glory is reached*. This is the
bright and sunny elevation up to which this passage
through the joys and honours of the kingdom has conducted 
us. Here the faithful one enters into the joy
of his Lord, sharing His throne; not only owned by
Him abroad, and established with Him within, walking
in white with Him, or fixed as a needed and honoured
portion of the great system of royal priesthood, but
with Him seated in the supreme place.

These pledges and promises may now end. They
have told of blessedness indeed.

Exceeding great things have surely passed before us in
this wondrous scripture, Rev. ii. iii. The tree and crown
of life-—the white stone—-the morning star-—the walking
abroad with Jesus through the realms-—residence
in the temple and city-—a place on the throne itself!
Surely, if Jesus Himself be prized, then will all this be
welcomed by us. And then, as we are further told, the
joy of dispensing to the earth the streams of that living
river, and the leaves of that living tree, which rises and
grows in our heavens (Rev. xxii.); with access, moreover,
to the ladder which lies between the upper and lower
regions, in order, as I have been already observing, to
do the business of the kingdom, in conscious royal
dignity, and full priestly holiness.

The glory also shall be revealed *in* us, each saint shall
bear it or be a vessel of it, and each of them shall be a
child of light and a child of the day, and each a son of
glory, glorified together with Christ, so as to join with
Him in shedding light, beyond that of the sun or the
moon, upon the creation beneath, that the present earnest
expectation of that creation may be satisfied in the then
"manifestation of the sons of God."

"And they shall see His face, and His name shall be
in their foreheads." They shall be intimately near Him,
speaking face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend,
without fear or suspicion, for their title shall be signed
and sealed as with His own hand. He will have
appropriated them to Himself; and this they shall know,
because His name shall be on them. And there, as
within all veils, they will walk in their heavenly temple,
and look on their Lord, and love, and wonder.

.. vspace:: 2

And to all this, we may add, that everything will
be according to our mind, as we speak; all will be
right in our eyes; all will equally and entirely please us,
and be just as we would have it. This we see in the
book of Revelation, in the progress of which the
heavenly family, wherever they are seen or heard, are
always found in the fullest concord with the action
that is going on. In chap. iv. the throne is getting
itself ready for judgment—-lightnings, thunders, and
voices proceeding from it; but the elders and the
living creatures have their doxologies to the name of
the Lord God Almighty, who sits and orders all. In
chap. v. the Lamb takes the book, and they again
rejoice, taking their harps to celebrate Him, and to
make merry at the prospect which this sight opens
to them. In chap. xi. the seventh angel announces
judgment, but they have only to fall on their faces,
and worship, and give thanks. In chap. xii. the war
in heaven and its issue is just as they would have it;
and with a loud voice they publish "Salvation!" In
chap. xv. God's *works and ways*, all things of His
*counsel* or His *strength*, form the theme of their song.
And in chap. xix. the judgment of the woman who
corrupted the earth calls forth again and again the
hallelujah of the glorified family. Thus all, from
beginning to end, is equally and altogether right in
their eyes; all is exactly as they would have it. They
as loudly triumph in the Kinsman *Avenger* (chap. xix.),
as they do in the Kinsman *Redeemer*. Chap. v. Everything
is to them beautiful in its season. The marriage
of the Lamb, and the judgment of the great whore, are
equally and entirely according to their mind.

Different, far different indeed, from what is now
felt by the believer. As far as he is spiritual, nothing
is fully right around him here. And this is only
increasingly so, as the world gets fuller of its own
inventions, and increases with the increase of man.
And a judgment this affords as to the state of our
affections. For we may ask ourselves, How are we
moved by the present advance in the improvements
of the world? Are we congratulating ourselves and
the age upon them, or are they sickening to our hearts?
This may be a touch-stone of the condition of our
souls, whether indeed Christ be our object or not. The
great tower in the plains of Shinar would have been
the boast of a Nimrod, but Abram would have
turned from it to weep. Just as the merchants of
the earth bewail that which the heavens rejoice over.
Rev. xviii.

And this is the great inquiry for us now-—Is Christ
the object of our hearts-—the One that we long for?
For that He will be ours, and near us and with us for
ever, will be the highest point in all our rich happiness
in this future heaven which we have been looking
at. Provision for the *heart* is always the dearest
thought we can entertain. As with Adam at the
beginning. He was put into the possession of a
goodly estate, which carried with it all that could
gratify the sense. There were the trees and the fruits
of that garden, pleasant to the eye and to the palate.
The desire of the one and of the other, and of all the
senses and faculties of man, might be *holily* indulged,
for the tree of knowledge had not been then eaten.
The Lord God was in the supreme place, the creature
was not then worshipped and served more than the
Creator, and all the senses might righteously take their
enjoyments, and the divine Planter of Eden had
provided for them. Gen. ii. 9. Yea, and more than
this. Adam received *dominion* from the same hand.
The natural--nay, the divine--delight in power and
dignity was thus provided for; for as the Lord God
in the upper world called the stars by their names,
thus owning them, so did He give Adam on the earth
to call the cattle and the fowl by their names, thus
taking headship of them. And in this way he was
set in the midst of these divine provisions for his eye,
his ear, his tastes, and his desire of dignity. But the
heart was as yet unfed. The day of his *coronation*
was not the day of his *espousals*. And the Lord God
knows him. He knows the creature whom in His
love and perfections He had formed. It is not good,
says He, that he should be alone, I will make him an
help meet for him. And Adam receives Eve from the
same hand which had given him Eden with its fruits,
and dominion in the earth. And then it is that his
lips are opened. "Out of the abundance of the heart
the mouth speaks." "This is now bone of my bone,
and flesh of my flesh," says Adam, expressing his deep
satisfaction, and that he now needed no more. Eden
could not, with all its delights for the senses, nor could
his vast and unrivalled dominion abroad, as "monarch
of all he surveyed," do what Eve did for him. She
unsealed his lips with a confession that *now* he was
satisfied. And so with us in possessing Jesus, above
all glory, in our heavenly Eden, for ever.

These, and the like notices of heaven scattered
through the Word, it is blessed to take up and ponder.
And, as one has said, "The Holy Ghost, who is called
the earnest of our inheritance, acts upon these notices,
and makes them living to our souls." And it is these
notices and attractions which make us, in a divine
sense, strangers and pilgrims here. Abraham, it has
been observed, became a stranger in the earth, not from
any sorrow or pressure in Mesopotamia, for we read of
none such, but because "the God of glory" had spoken
in the language of "promise" to him. He was drawn
out from kindred and home and country by something
before him, and not urged or driven out by anything
behind. This was heavenly strangership here.

Is it thus, beloved, or are we desiring that it may be
thus, with our souls? Are we pondering the prospect,
and following out the distant glimpses of it, with fixed
and interested hearts? These are the present questions
for the stirring and guiding of our souls. The search
will lead to humbling and rebuke, but it will be an
excellent oil.

And, as if to give us full ease of heart in the enjoyment
of this our future heaven, the Lord has taught us
to know that we are in some sense *wanted* there, however
unimportant we may deem ourselves. For each is
to be a vessel of the glory, as we have already said; of
larger or smaller quantity it may be, but still each is a
*needed* vessel in that house of glory. We commonly
think how necessary the Lord is to us. True indeed.
We shall celebrate the fact that we owe everything to
Him throughout eternity. But it is also a truth (to the
praise of the riches of grace be it spoken) that we are
necessary to Him. "The woman is the glory of the
man." Not in the same way, surely. He is necessary
to us for *life* as well as for joy, for *salvation* as well as
for glory; but we are important, of course, only to
His joy and glory; as it is written, "That we should
be to the praise of His glory;" and again, "That in the
ages to come He might shew the exceeding riches of
His grace in His kindness toward us through Christ
Jesus." Eph. ii 7.

The Lord God consulted for Adam's joy when He
purposed in Himself to form Eve. Eve, we may know
full well, was abundantly happy in Adam; but still the
concern of the Lord was about Adam being happy in
Eve. So it is even now in the dispensation of the
Gospel. The true Adam is still consulted for. "The
kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which
made a marriage for his *son*." And so will it be still in
the dispensation or age of the glory. It is called "the
marriage of the Lamb"--not, as once observed to me,
the marriage of the Church or of the Lamb's wife, but
*of the Lamb*, as though *the Lamb* were the One chiefly
interested in that joy.

And so it is. The Church will have her joy in
Christ, but Christ will have His greater joy in the
Church. The strongest pulse of gladness that is to
beat for eternity will be in the bosom of the Lord
over His ransomed Bride. In all things He is to have
the pre-eminence; and, as in all things, so in this--that
His joy in her will be greater than hers in Him.

And all the foreknown to that end, and none less
than *all*, will form the Eve of that Adam, and be the
Bride or the Woman destined thus to be the Man's joy
and glory. *All* here are *now* "fitly joined together
and compacted by that which every joint supplieth,"
and no less *then* will the *all* be demanded. Oh, how the
Lord not only prepares the heaven, but in this way
prepares the heart for it, that we may enjoy it with
*entire ease*, seeing ourselves a needed portion of the
holy furniture of the place! As Joseph would comfort
his brethren by telling them that it was God who had
sent him into Egypt before them, that life might be
preserved by a great deliverance. Their wicked hands
had done it, it is true; but God's purpose had done it also,
and it is this He would have them now think of, and
not the other. For this is the way of love; and "God
is love." Love will not only spread the feast, but do
what it can to let it be tasted with all confidence and joy
of heart. Love will make the guests *sit* at the table, give
them a plentiful board, and ease while enjoying it.

Can we, beloved, read these notices of the heaven that
is to be ours by-and-by, and for ever, and, as we read,
wish our hearts joy that it is so? Can we count ourselves
happy, having such prospects as these? As the miser
can bear the scorn of the world without, in the thought
of his treasures at home, can we in the hope of this joy
of heaven live above the earth and its promises?

Such things, however, as these, excellent as they are,
have something still further with them. The *air* of a
place is more important to us than its *scenery*. If we
can get both, of course the better; but if we can have
but one, the good air will be surely preferred.

Now, heaven, I may say, will have both. It will be
filled with a moral element or atmosphere, as well as
furnished with glories; and the former (I speak as a
man) will be more in the account of our joy than the
latter.

I have found it well at times to ponder this, and to
learn something of that moral element that is to be
the air of heaven. Scriptures which I have already
noticed test and prove the purity of that air. The
millennial atmosphere both in heaven and on earth
will indeed be ever fresh, laden with balmy fragrance.
If we are now wearied with our own selfishness, and
with the tempers of "hateful and hating" human
nature, we must long for a change of air, such as the
land of the glory is said to know, the land of the voice
of the turtle. If the brightness of those regions, or
the scenery of the place, have its attraction (and what
heart can conceive it?), what must be the atmosphere
of it to our happy souls, where social life, through all
its relations, as between heaven and earth, and as
between Jerusalem, the land of Israel, and the most
distant islands, moves and kindles continually with the
most generous and delicate affections.

It is not that nature will be triumphed over merely;
nature will not be there; at least, not in the heavens
which we are approaching. We shall not have to speak
of saints carrying themselves towards each other in a
good spirit. Such security is well in its place, and while
we sojourn in our "vile bodies." But there the element
itself will be good. The fervent currents of pure and
happy minds, flowing from each to all, will form it.

The moral dignity and beauty, the various and yet
consistent perfections that will animate us then, will
all be bright and lovely before the divine mind. God
shall survey the work of His fingers through the
different spheres of glory, and rest with delight in it.

It is a thought much to be cherished, that our
eternal ways will thus be the divine delight, and
more than make up to God (I speak again after the
manner of men) for the grief which, by us and in us,
His Spirit is now so continually put to.

Such will be the *moral* enjoyments in the realms of
glory; no small part of that banquet at which the
Lord will seat His guests, when He comes forth and
girds Himself to wait upon them. Luke xii. 37. We
may be but little able to comprehend the glory itself,
but we can appreciate these moral characteristics of the
heaven we are reaching.

While still here, in the conflicts of flesh and spirit,
we are, in some sense, under the guardianship of *conscience*,
that principle which judges of "good and evil."
But conscience will not keep heaven in order. Our
*passions* and our *righteousness* will there be one. Little
do we now advance in a heavenly direction by the
gracious current of affections. But what bliss, when
the very energy which bears us *speedily* will also bear
us *rightly* onward—-when the very gale which fills the
sails will regulate the rudder; the passion that engages
and delights the soul being the very rule and measure
of all that is worthy of the presence of God!

May we cherish in our souls these notices of heaven!
Faint is their impression; humblingly indeed do some
of us know this; but we may entertain them, and bid
them welcome, grieved that our welcome is not more
warm and affectionate.

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But the earth is still remembered, and kept in store
for great purposes yet to be accomplished. The rainbow
was, of old, as we know, made the pledge of this.
It is a token of the covenant between God and all the
earth, and every living thing upon it. The Lord says,
that when the cloud comes, the bow shall be with it—-when
the portent of judgment lowers, the sign of peace
shall shine. And, as we see to this day, the earth has
not been again destroyed. It may not be the residence
of the glory, as it once was, and as it will be again, but
still it is preserved, according to the promise of the
rainbow. And Scripture is diligent and exact to show
us, that in every variety of the divine procedure, this
promise has been, is, and will be remembered.

Thus it was surely remembered all the time the Lord
had His seat in Zion; for then the Lord made the
earth His habitation. But when the throne of the
Lord leaves Zion, and the holiest of holies loses the
glory, because the earthly people had, by their sin,
disturbed its rest, and all returns to heaven (Ezek. i-xi.),
we see the throne and the glory carrying the rainbow
with them. That is, though the earth was then
stripped of glory; though Jerusalem, the throne of the
Lord, was then for a season laid on heaps, and put
under the foot of the Gentiles; still the Lord would be
mindful of the earth, and make it the object of His
faithful care, according to His promise. And thus we
see the glory, though it leave the earth, bearing with it
the remembrance of the earth: *the rainbow accompanies
it to heaven*; this telling us, that though the Lord leave
the earth as the scene of His power and praise for a
time, He has it still in recollection before Him. Accordingly,
when the heaven is opened to our vision in Rev.
iv. we see the faithful bow encompassing the throne
there. How blessed this is! The Lord in the heavens
is still mindful of the earth. He has thrown the very
pledge of its security around His throne on high, so
that though the earth see not that throne, and is no
longer the place of that throne, that throne sees the
earth and remembers it, and longs, as it were, for its
natural footstool.

This shows us the security of the earth during this
heavenly dispensation through which we are now passing.
The Lord is now gathering a people *for heaven*. It
is true, He is not filling the earth with glory yet, but
gathering an elect family out from it, to have communion
with Himself in heaven; but still He is
mindful of His promise. He looks on the bow, and
preserves the earth, keeps the seed-time and the
harvest, the cold and the heat, the day and the night,
the summer and the winter, in their stated rounds and
seasons. Gen. ix.

How simple all this is. When the throne went first
from earth to heaven, we saw it bearing along with it
the recollection of the earth; and now in its place in
the heavens we see it still clasping to its breast and
encircling across its brow this fond and loved token of
the earth's blessing. Ezek. i.; Rev. iv.

But there is still more. For let the Lord come
down in the judgments that are by-and-by to visit the
earth, we shall find Him as fully mindful of His
promise not to destroy it, as now He is, or has been
hitherto. This we see in Rev. x. The mighty angel,
the angel of judgment, comes down; and he is clothed
with a cloud, the fearful vessel of wrath, and token of
judgment; as was said at the beginning, "When I
bring a cloud over the earth." But even then the
rainbow is with Him; as it was added, "The bow shall
be seen in the cloud." It is not simply with a cloud
He comes down, but with the cloud and the bow
accompanying it. See Gen. ix. 14; Rev. x. 1. As
much as to tell us, that at the very end He remembers
His word, and will debate with judgment. He will
say to it, "Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further."
The cloud is to descend, it is true; the judgment must
come, the vials of wrath must be poured out; but it is
only to judge those who corrupt or destroy the earth,
and not to destroy the earth itself; for the mighty
angel, as we see from this scripture, who comes down
"clothed with a cloud," has also "a rainbow upon his
head." And the cloud, as it executes its commission,
and pours out its water or its judgments again, must
stay itself in obedience to the bow that is to measure
and control it. The present course of things may
cease, as in the days of Noah, but the bow shines in
the eye of the Lord. His promise lives in His heart,
and the earth shall be the happy scene and witness of
its rich fulfilment.

Thus, then, we see that even the judgment itself
shall not touch the ancient promise to the earth. It
is still beloved for Noah's sake, of whom it was said,
This same shall comfort us concerning our work and
toil of our hands, because of the ground which the
Lord hath cursed (Gen. v.), that is, for His blessed
sake whom Noah typified; and we need not say,
beloved, who He is. Therefore it survives the judgment,
it stands the shock of the descent of this mighty
angel, though clothed with a cloud, planting his right
foot on the sea, and his left foot on the land, and
crying aloud as when a lion roars.

And what is it reserved for? For even more than
the rainbow had promised it. For this is the way of
God. He takes up His pledges, and is faithful *abundantly*,
doing more exceedingly than He had spoken.
And so is it in this case of the earth. It is not only
preserved, with its seed-time and its harvest, its day
and its night, but it is brought into the "liberty of the
glory of the sons of God." This is more than had
been pledged to it. The holy city descends out of
heaven, to take its connection with the earth; and,
shining in due sphere above it, forth from its bosom
it sends the leaves of its living tree, the streams of its
living water, and the rays of its indwelling glory, to
beautify and to refresh the earth and its creatures
below. Rev. xxi, xxii. The rainbow need not now
appear, for the cloud is gone. The bow would do
well enough while there was the cloud, the promise
and the pledge might comfort, while there was place
for judgment, or for fear of evil; but now judgment is
over. The cloud is scattered, and the bow has therefore
no place. But the holy city descends out of heaven
from God, to do more, much more, than merely to
redeem the divine pledge. For it is glorifying, and
not merely preserving, the creation. It shall then
*rejoice* in the presence of the Lord, when He cometh
to govern the earth.

Would not time fail to tell of all the types and
prophecies of the *earth's* blessing in the days of the
kingdom? The trees and the fields and the floods, in
their order, will then rejoice before the Lord. The
creation itself shall be delivered into the liberty of the
glory of the children of God. Psalm viii., with many
a kindred voice, proclaims it. The voice of every
creature on earth, under the earth, and in the sea,
heard in vision by the prophet, anticipates it. Rev. v.
And the promised day, when "the desert shall rejoice
and blossom as the rose," when "the leopard shall lie
down with the kid," and when "the heavens shall hear
the earth, and the earth shall hear the corn and the
wine and the oil," will realize it. Isaiah xxxv.; Hosea ii.

And *the nations*, we know, will fill their place in
this approaching system of glory. They will turn
their swords into ploughshares; and instead of learning
war, they will learn the ways of the Lord, and
walk in His paths. At the appointed season they will
wait, each with his offering, on the King in Zion, holding
their high and joyous feast in the presence of His
greatness there. Then from the uttermost parts of the
earth shall be heard songs to the Righteous One. And
then shall the call of the prophet be answered by the
willing hearts of all the people: "Sing unto the Lord a
new song, and His praise from the end of the earth, ye
that go down to the sea, and all that is therein; the
isles, and the inhabitants thereof. Let the wilderness
and the cities thereof lift up their voice, the villages
that Kedar doth inhabit: let the inhabitants of the
rock sing, let them shout from the top of the mountains.
Let them give glory unto the Lord, and declare His
praise in the islands."

*Israel* then shall dwell safely--"every man under
his vine and under his fig tree." They shall be
"all righteous;" they shall be all united; they shall
call every man his neighbour. "Ephraim shall not
envy Judah, nor Judah vex Ephraim." The two mystic
sticks shall become one in the prophet's hand. They
shall be "one nation in the land upon the mountains
of Israel." And, as in the shadowy days of Solomon,
it shall then be said, "Judah and Israel were many, as
the sand which is by the sea in multitude, eating and
drinking and making merry." Their merriment, too,
shall be holy. It shall be the joy of a sanctuary.
"They shall abundantly utter the memory of Thy great
goodness, and shall sing of Thy righteousness.... They
shall speak of the glory of Thy kingdom, and talk of Thy
power." Within themselves, towards the nations around,
and under the God of their fathers, the God of their
covenant, all shall be blessing with Israel. For thus
saith the Lord God, They shall dwell in the land that
I have given unto Jacob My servant.... I will make
a covenant of peace with them; it shall be an everlasting
covenant with them: and I will place them, and
multiply them, and will set My sanctuary in the midst
of them for evermore. My tabernacle also shall be
with them: yea, I will be their God, and they shall be
My people. And the heathen shall known that I the
Lord do sanctify Israel, when My sanctuary shall be in
the midst of them for evermore. Ezekiel xxxvii.

All this tells the tale of millennial joys on the earth.
But in this system, of earthly glory, beyond the *creation*
itself, *the nations*, and *Israel*, there is a spot still more
illustrious, an object distinguished in the midst of even
joys and dignities like these. I mean *Jerusalem*.

And I have before now asked myself, Why is it that
Jerusalem is made so much of in Scripture? Why is it
that "the Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all
the dwellings of Jacob"?

It was *His* court--the place of His presence both as
the God and the King of Israel. His palace and His
sanctuary were there. The administrations of His laws
and the ordinances of His worship were there. The
thrones of judgment, the testimony of Israel, and the
eucharistic service of His name, were all known there.
Psalm cxxii. It was the place where Jehovah had
recorded His name, and where the glory dwelt, the
symbol of His presence.

It was *His home*. The whole land was the Lord's
demesne; but Jerusalem was the mansion-house, the
family dwelling. The children were placed out here
and there through the tribes and divisions of the land,
which was the family estate, but Jerusalem was the
family mansion. It was the father's house, the common
home, where, at stated holy days, the children met, according
to the common way of the affection of kindred.

This, I believe, was Jerusalem's *first* attraction in the
eye and to the heart of the Lord of Israel. He sought
and He found a home at Jerusalem, saying, "This is
My rest for ever: here will I dwell; for I have desired
it." And He left it, when sin had defiled it, with
all the hesitation and lingering which disappointed
affection so well understands. Ezekiel viii.-xi.

Jerusalem was all this--the house of the Father, the
palace of the King, and the temple of the God of Israel.
For Israel were His children, His people, and His
worshippers, and the affections of a Father's heart, and
the joys and honours of the Lord and King, found their
object and their sphere at Jerusalem. And this is more
than enough to account to us for her high distinction.
And all this is she to be again. It will be the palace,
the temple, and the family mansion again. It will be
the place of prayer for all nations. It will be the seat
of legislation, worship, judgment, and government. It
will be the fountain, too, of the virtues of the new
covenant, from whence the living waters will flow, to
make her, in those days, the mystic mother of the family.
Psalm lxxxvii. And the glory of the heavens will shine
on her from above, doing for her the service of sun and
moon, while she is lifted up and exposed, that she may
bask in the full light of it, and dwell under it as her
native air. Isa. iv. 5; lx. 1; Zech. xiv. 10.

And she shall be the bride of the Lord of the earth,
and the queen in the day of His power. He will clothe
her with ornaments as such, rejoice over her, impart
His name to her, and have her so honoured and
cherished by the whole world, as to treat despite of her
as indignity done to Himself. Psalm xlv.; Isaiah lx.;
Jeremiah xxxiii.; Ezekiel xlviii.; Zeph. iii.

All this may well account for the place which
Jerusalem holds in the thoughts of the Spirit. His
prophets, those who spake as they were moved by Him,
address her again and again as the bride, the queen,
and the mother, in the days of the approaching glory.
But what shall we say of Him, who has thus decked
her with all beauty and dignity, and given her such
relationship to Himself? Is it not wondrous and
happy to see the circle of human sympathies thus
seating itself in the divine mind? Is *friendship* only
human? How can I say so, when I see Jesus and the
disciple whom He loved walking in company? Are
the affections of *kindred* merely human? How can
I say so, when I think of Christ and the Church, and a
thousand witnesses from Scripture? Is the heart's
fond delight in *home* a divine as well as a human joy?
How can I doubt it, when I thus see the Lord and
Jerusalem? Surely the divine mind is the seat of
all the pure and righteous sensibilities of the heart,
and "the Man Christ Jesus" tells me so. The Lord
God of Israel has known, and will know again, the
affection that lingers round the homestead of many
a family recollection and joy.

Such will be Jerusalem, and such the earth itself,
the nations, and Israel, in the promised days of the
presence and power of the Lord. Faintly traced by
the hand, more feebly responded to by the heart. But
"yet true," though "surpassing fable."

All Scripture, however, shows us that such joy cannot
be had on earth, or in the circumstances and history
of the world, in their *present* state, nor till the earth
is made the scene of righteousness; and such it is not
to be, till the Lord have ridded it of all that offends,
and all that does iniquity. *The sword of judgment*
must go before *the throne of glory*. The earth must be
cleared of its corruptions, ere it can be a garden of
holy, divine delights again.

The Gospel is not producing a happy world, or spreading
out a garden of Eden. It proposes no such thing,
but to take out of the world a people, a heavenly people,
for Christ. But the presence of the Lord will make
a happy world by-and-by, when that presence can
righteously return to it.

The close of the Psalms shows us this. Beautiful
close! All praise—-untiring, satisfying fruit of lips
uttering the joy of a filled heart, and owning the
undivided glory of the Blessed One! But this had been
preceded by the sorrows of the righteous in an evil
world, and then the judgment of that world. For that
Book gives the cries of the righteous in an evil world,
the joys of the Spirit in the midst of that evil, the
varied exercises of the soul by the way, and the end of
the righteous in the joy of praise. All, however, forbids
the heart from entertaining the thought of joy *in the*
*earth* till the judgment have cleansed it; the *rest* is to
be prepared for *Solomon* by the *sword* of *David*.

The proper thought of this will keep the heart from
being tossed by disappointments, and take it off from
the expectation of any progress to rest and stability
for the world, or in it, till the Lord have executed
judgment. Our joy now is to be in Himself, in spirit,
in the thought of His love, and the sense of His
peace, helped onward, day by day, in the hope of full
and righteous joy with Him, when the wicked have
gone from the scene for ever.

How sensitively does the Lord's mind recede from
the thought of joy in the earth, when the people were
wondering at all things that He did! Turning to His
disciples He said, "Let these sayings sink down into
your ears; for the Son of man shall be delivered into
the hands of men." But this, I may say, was only a
sample of all His mind, as He looked to the earth in
its present condition. It was ever in His thoughts
connected with trial.

Psalm lxxv. strikingly utters this. There Messiah
looks on the earth as all dissolved and disordered,
about to drink the cup of judgment at God's righteous
hand. For the present He expected nothing from it.
But then, after the exhausting of that cup, He does
look on it as the scene of joy and praise and exaltation
of righteousness, He Himself bearing up its pillars, and
leading its songs.

I feel it, however, to be a very solemn truth, that
God is allowing man, giving him space and time, to
ripen his iniquity, that the judgment may fall upon
him in the height of his pride, and crush the system
which he is raising in its point of greatest pretension
and advancement. It is surely a solemn truth. But
even in such a purpose, as in all others, "Wisdom is
justified of all her children." The believer may be awed
by such a fact in the divine dealings with man, but
he approves it, understands it to be a fitting thing,
that man should be allowed to produce the fully ripened
fruit of his own departure from God, to present it
and survey it in the pride of his heart, and then
receive his righteous answer to all his boasted and
enjoyed apostasy, from the signal judgment of God.
The iniquity of the Amorites was to be *full*, ere
justice should overtake it. The Lord bore with Babel
till the cry of it went up to Him. Nebuchadnezzar
had built "great Babylon," as he gloried, by the might
of his power, and for the honour of his majesty, when
he was driven from his high estate; Haman was full
when God emptied him even to the dregs. And the
great man of the earth, at the last, shall come to his
end, just as he has planted the tabernacles of his palaces
in the glorious holy mountain.

It is solemn; but it is as wisdom would have it, and
as faith deeply approves it. God is justified in His
sayings, and overcomes when He is judged.

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Happy I desire to find this meditation. Where there
is much conflict of thought and judgment among the
saints, it is grateful to the soul to turn to subjects of
*common* interest and delight; and when the scene
around is getting full of man's inventions and man's
importance, it is well, to look to those regions of light
and purity, where God, supreme and all-sufficient, will
gather together all things in Christ, both which are in
heaven and which are on earth. Regions of light and
purity indeed, where all will tell of intimacy or nearness,
and yet of the full sense of the position of the Creator and
the creature, the Sanctifier and the sanctified. In many
a delightful page of God's Word is this brightly reflected.
The Lord dwelt in the midst of the camp of Israel
while at rest, and, as it took its journey, went along
with it, whether by night or by day, whether the road
lay right onward, or turned back to the mountain or the
sea. But still He was *God*, the Lord of the camp.

How does all that commend itself to our souls! We
bow to this. We rejoice to know that He dwells in a
light that no man can approach unto, and yet that He
has walked through the cities and villages of earth; that
He is One whom no man hath seen, nor can see, and
yet that none less than the One who is in His bosom
has declared Him to us, been in the midst of us, our
Kinsman in the flesh, as well as Jehovah's Fellow.

His supreme authority, as Lord, is infinite; His distance
and holiness, as God, are infinite. And yet He is
"Head over all things *to* the Church," and God Himself
is "for us." At the very moment of His commanding
Moses and Joshua to take their shoes from their feet,
because of His presence, He was manifesting Himself to
them in symbols or characters significant of the deepest
sympathy, and of the most devoted service. Exodus iii;
Joshua v.

But enough. I will not pursue these thoughts any
further. Yet in the days of increasing gloom and
perplexity, like the present, the soul is the more sent to
the sure hiding-place of safety, or to the sunny Pisgah
heights of hope and observation. It gets the more
accustomed to meditate on the strength of those foundations
which God has put under our feet-—the intimacy
of that communion into which He has even now
introduced our hearts-—and the brightness of those
prospects which He has set before our eyes.

I only ask, beloved, Are we pressing, in desire, after
this portion? Are we unsatisfied with all in comparison
with it? Are we refusing to form any purpose, or
to entertain any prospect, short of this? In Psalm
lxxxiv. the heart of the worshipper is still *on the way*,
unsatisfied, though he have "pools," and "rain," and
"strength" of the Lord, till he reach Zion. In Psalm
xc. all which the man of God sees is the vanity of
human life and the "return" of the Lord. He does
not anticipate changes and improvements in the condition
of things, but looks to being "made glad" and
of being "satisfied" at the "return" of Christ.

Is this our mind? I again ask. Are we still prisoners
of hope, refusing to let anything change the
expectant attitude of the soul? The Holy Ghost is
given to us, not to change that, but to strengthen it.
His very presence does but nourish present dissatisfaction
of heart, and the longings of hope and desire.
He causes the saint to "abound in hope," and gives
breadth and compass to the cry, "Come, Lord Jesus."
Spirit of truth, the other Comforter, as He is, He
does not show Himself for the Bridegroom, nor propose
to make His refreshings "the marriage supper
of the Lamb." The energy of hope, the desirings of
the soul after our still unmanifested Lord, only speak
the Spirit's presence in us the more clearly and blessedly.
It is His very design and workmanship. He draws us
forth to hope to the end for the grace that is to be
brought to us at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

And is He, beloved, our object? The heart well
knows the power of that which is its object. Do we
make Jesus such? Do we find, in ourselves, anything of
that sickness of hope of which we read in Scripture?
And are we able to say, "When He giveth quietness,
who then can make trouble?"

May the Spirit shed abroad more and more, in the
heart of each of us, these and the like affections.
And to Him that loved us, and washed us from our
sins in His own blood, be glory and dominion for ever!
Amen.

   |
   |  Bride of the Lamb! awake, awake!
   |    Why sleep for sorrow now?
   |  The hope of glory, Christ, is thine,
   |    A child of glory thou.
   |
   |  Thy spirit through the lonely night,
   |    From earthly joy apart,
   |  Hath sigh'd for One that's far away,
   |    The Bridegroom of thy heart.
   |
   |  But see, the night is waning fast,
   |    The breaking morn is near,
   |  And Jesus comes with voice of love,
   |    Thy drooping heart to cheer.
   |
   |  He comes; for, oh, His yearning heart
   |    No more can bear delay,
   |  To scenes of full, unmingled joy
   |    To call His Bride away.
   |
   |  This earth, the scene of all His woe,
   |    A homeless wild to thee,
   |  Full soon upon His heav'nly throne,
   |    Its rightful King shall see.
   |
   |  Thou too shalt reign, He will not wear
   |    His crown of joy alone,
   |  And earth His royal Bride shall see
   |    Beside Him on the throne.
   |
   |  Then weep no more, 'tis all thine own,
   |    His crown, His joy divine,
   |  And sweeter far than all beside,
   |    He, He Himself is thine.
   |

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   London: :small-caps:`A. S. Rouse`, 15 & 16, Paternoster Square, E.C.

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