Adoni-bezek Judges 1:7THESE words were uttered by Adoni-bezek (king or Bezek). He had conquered seven of the little kingdoms in and around Palestine, and he showed their kings the rough hospitality of cutting off their thumbs and their great toes, and of allowing them to gather their meat under his table. In due time, however, Judah, who succeeded Joshua in the leadership, went up to do the Lord's work and took with him Simeon that they might fight against the Canaanites. In Bezek they slew ten thousand men. There they found the king, and they fought against him, and when he fled they pursued after him and caught him and cut oft his thumbs and his great toes. "And Adoni-bezek said, Threescore and ten kings, having their thumbs and their great toes cut off, gathered their meat under my table: as I have done, so God hath requited me." This fact is an illustration of a severe yet most holy law. "The Lord God of recompenses shall surely requite." Nor was this an ancient law only; it was repeated by Jesus Christ himself: "With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." The same doctrine was laid down by the Apostles: "He shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no mercy." Adoni-bezek shows his wisdom in making this comment upon his own suffering. Though he was a tyrant yet he was not a fool. The difficulty of the spiritual teacher is with heedless men; all other difficulties may be subdued or even turned to advantage, but heedlessness, inattentiveness, carelessness, who can overcome? Set it down as a central and abiding truth that wrong-doers cannot escape divine judgment. "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." A man may deny this; he may theoretically disregard it; but all history shows that he cannot escape it. At the heart of things is the spirit of judgment Life appears to be confused, but before the Almighty it has shape and plan and purpose. God overtakes a man at the last, and comes before him with such vividness of action as to constrain the man himself to admit that the punishment is divine and not human. There is an answering voice in the human heart. When a man is suffering from any amputation whatsoever, either physical or social, either ecclesiastical or commercial, let him profoundly reflect upon the whole case and scourge his memory so that nothing may be omitted from the review, and he will find that there is a marvellous law in life whose watchword is: "Breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth"! "As thy sword hath made women childless, so shall thy mother be childless among women." Only the fool can be satisfied by tracing his punishments to ill-luck. Seeing that there is this law of punishment or requital in constant operation, no man should take the law into his own hands. That is the most pitiful form of the attempted readjustment of things. When the reformation is worked out it must come from a greater distance and operate by an infinitely greater sweep. "Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people." "Say not, I will do so to him as he hath done to me." "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord." Adoni-bezek acknowledged his punishment as a divine visitation. He did not look upon it as a petty resentment on the part of his enemies; he took a high moral view of his condition. Why have we suffered loss in business? May it not be that we have oppressed the poor and needy? Why are our schemes delayed and thwarted? Is it not because we have been obstinate and unfriendly towards the schemes of others? Why are we held in disesteem or neglect? Is it not because of the contempt with which we have treated our brethren? Let us look at the moral working of things, and see in the results which are forced upon us, not the petty anger of men— something that might have been avoided— but the inevitable judgment of God against which all resistance is vain. This law does not operate in one direction only. The God who punishes also rewards. "God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love." "The liberal soul shall be made fat." "Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom." This is the other side of a law which is full of awful suggestion. The way of the Lord is thus equal. Nothing that we do for him or for his cause goes without reward. Whosoever shall give a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, shall be surprised by the approbation of Heaven, and amazed at the degree in which every simple deed of duty or love is magnified by the Judge of the whole earth. But we must not work merely for the sake of a reward, for then all the process would end only in disappointment. It is possible to do good deeds with a selfish hand. If a man shall set himself to convert the whole world, simply in order that he may secure heaven at last, all his efforts will be thrown away and he himself will be cast into outer darkness. The reason is plain. There is no similarity between the motive and the action; they are not only not co-ordinate, they do not belong to the same universe; they can only be regarded as abortive and pitiful attempts to serve God and mammon. Where the motive is right the good deed is always its own reward. We realise heaven in the doing of it. No man ever yet relieved the necessities of poverty without himself being abundantly fed and satisfied by the very act of benevolence. A very curious law is this, yet that it is a law is proved by innumerable instances, and not a single instance to the contrary can be quoted in modification, much less in disproof. It would appear as if eyes were watching us from heaven, noting all the way that we take and all the deeds that we do, and that instantly some communication was set in motion by which our hearts were encouraged and refreshed immediately upon the accomplishment of every good deed, Hence come our holiest raptures, our sublimest ecstasies, the enthusiasms which lift us into the gladness of heaven: hence, too, comes that sweet content which never fails to crown the day's labour done by the hands of the good man. If we would know how happy human life can be, how like God's own life, peaceful with the very quiet of heaven, let us go about doing good, and thus imitate the Son of God. Then coming back to the other side of the great truth, there stands before us the solemn fact that though justice be long delayed yet it will be eventually vindicated. Adoni-bezek had run a long course of wickedness: seventy kings had suffered under his cruel knife. It seemed as if all power had been given into his hands. As king after king entered within the shadow of his dominion all courage must have sunk and died Yet even Adoni-bezek came within the grip of the law and learned that the time of punishment is with the Lord and not with man. We are apt to suppose that after a certain time we have outwitted the law of retribution. When half a lifetime has been lived we say, Surely there can be no revival of the forgotten offence. We pass an act of oblivion regarding our own moral misdeeds. God's hour is coming; a stormy and terrible hour. Adoni-bezek acknowledged his punishment to be just; he saw it to be God's act; so at last every wicked man will own that hell is his proper place. Could there be any comfort in perdition, it would arise from the fact that the punishment there inflicted is just. Surely some such reflection as this alone can enable the criminal to bear the tremendous penalty of lifelong servitude. Innocence might enable him to bear it, because of the sureness of an ultimate vindication and reward; and consciousness that the punishment is deserved might mitigate the severity of the penalty, because the conscience would be saying all the while, "As I have done unto others, so hath the Lord requited me." Let us then be solemnised and yet comforted. Life is not a haphazard movement as in some aspects it occasionally appears to be. Above it all is seated the ever-watching and incorruptible Judge. Let us give ourselves no uneasiness about the punishment of offenders; let us do our work honestly and straightforwardly whoever may oppose, and in the long run we shall see that there is a rod for the wicked, and a crown for those who do well. An awful message the pulpit must ever have to deliver to the wicked man: "Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished;" "Be sure your sin will find you out" The judgment of the last day may therefore be the briefest of all exercises, forasmuch as every man will be a witness either for or against himself, and will answer the look of the Judge in a way which will signify beyond all misinterpretation either heaven or hell. PrayerAlmighty God, we bless thee for the wonderful words of our Savior. We often cannot understand what he saith; yet from what we do understand, we know that the very mystery of his speech is itself a blessing. The noontide of revelation will come, the full light will shine upon all his words; then shall we see how beautiful they are, as flowers of summer, and how rich they are, as sheaves of harvest. Who can find out the Son of God unto perfection? Who can say, This is his meaning, and there is none other? Sooner can we lay a line upon the whole heaven, and measure the height thereof, than we can understand unto perfectness the wisdom of the Son of God. Never man spake like this Man. Verily he is no man only: there is a reach in his arm which is not found in human arms: he raises it to the stars, he lays his hand upon the throne of God, he searches all heaven. His words are full of love, full of mystery, full of grace. We wonder at the gracious words which proceed out of his mouth— the words themselves so gracious and made doubly gracious by the tenderness and majesty of his tone. Give us at all times when Christ is the speaker, the hearing ear, the understanding heart, and the obedient will; then shall our hearing be a means of grace, and the sight of Christ by the vision of the soul shall be a ministry of transfiguration: then shall we be like him when we see him as he is. To gather round thy book is our chief delight; this is the very jubilee of time, the hour of joy and growth and liberty. May no man miss the sacredness of the opportunity: may every moment be begrudged that is not spent in eager attention, and may the one desire of every listener be to know what God the Lord hath spoken— the invisible God in heaven, or the visible and human Christ on earth. Thou knowest all the burdens we carry, and with what little strength we bear them. Every perplexity of our life is known unto thee. We are baffled, disappointed, turned back, surprised by the proportion of our foes, and amazed by their uncalculated number; but God is with us, and when the Omnipotent One shall make bare his arm, behold all enemies shall be dispersed and all difficulties overcome. Help any men who are being crushed by their burdens. They dare not tell all the tale of distress; they hide it in their hearts, and grow old by the very concealment of the misery. The Lord look upon all men, read the secret of life, send salvation from the Cross, and help from the sanctuary. Amen Tributaries Judges 1:27-36THE only profitable use we can make of this section is to consider its spiritual applications. We are always engaged in battle or in progress, and, do what we may, we are not always able to carry everything our own way. The signature of defeat is somewhere upon our proudest achievements; again and again shadows appear, which can only be accounted for by the presence of the enemy. The body remains, and social contact and sensuous appeal; in a word, the very spirit of evil is continually appearing and reappearing even in the best moods of our life. We want to drive away the enemy, and we but partially succeed. Sometimes we think we have wholly banished him, and behold, he suddenly returns from concealment, and is more malignant and furious than ever. Our life is thus a continual series of surprises, and the surprises are often very stinging disappointments. Again and again we say to our souls, Take your ease, and even venture to be mirthful, for the horse and his rider are thrown into the sea, and the whole land is cleansed of the pollution of the presence of the enemy; and whilst the song of triumph and thankfulness is in our mouth, the sea gives up its dead, and the land becomes as foul as ever. When we would do good evil is present with us; our prayers are punctuated with overtures to the enemy; even in our supplications we half promise the devil to return, and serve him as eagerly as ever. All this is full of mystery and full of pain. What, then, is to be done? There remains the sweet and comforting doctrine that even where extinction is impossible tribute may be charged and enforced; not only so, sometimes tribute is better than extinction. What if in the end it should appear that it is better that we should be conscious of the presence of the enemy than that we should feel too secure in our spiritual position? What if it should be proved that the enemy himself is to be made tributary to our spiritual greatness and influence? Even this is within the possibility of the grace and sovereignty of God. The world itself is to be laid under tribute, and must be so laid if the full Christian life is to be lived. The Christian is not removed out of the world, but is set in a totally new relation to everything which the world contains and represents. The world becomes one of two things: it becomes either a limit, or a symbol; whether we take it in the one sense or in the other will depend upon our spiritual state. To the worldly man the world is enough; he wants nothing that cannot be found in its gardens, or drawn from its fountains, or descried upon its horizon; its summer is heaven, its night is Sabbath, its wealth is honour. The worldly man in so reasoning is perfectly consistent with his fundamental conception. Whatever he may do theoretically, he practically accepts but one world, and, accepting that one world, he is bound to make the most of it; it becomes large to his vision, and valuable to his sense of importance: whatever other worlds there may or may not be is to him a matter of no consequence; he has found space enough for the exercise of his energy and the satisfaction of his desires. On the other hand, the Christian man cannot be content with this view. However great the world may be in miles and leagues, it becomes smaller and smaller to the Christian as he grows in spiritual relationships. What before was vast dwindles into insignificance; what before was important becomes trivial; and what before had about it the traces of durability becomes transient and uncertain. To the spiritual mind the world is a symbol, and in this view it is of infinite consequence as supplying countless starting-points upon which the sanctified imagination can operate: all light, all force, all beauty, all fruitfulness— yea, and even all darkness, and judgment, and fear, can be turned into texts upon which the Christian imagination dilates, with ever-growing power, and profit to itself. In this sense the Christian man makes the world his tributary. He does not destroy the world, but says to it in effect, You shall give me everything you can supply to stimulate my imagination, to encourage my aspirations, to disclose to me new possibilities, and to hint to me sublime destinies; the very stones of the field shall be sermons to me, and the running brooks shall be books, and in everything I will find good. The Christian man is thus placed in a right relation to all material nature: it no longer overpowers him by its vastness and brightness; it has become to him a comparatively little thing in itself, yet most useful as a pedestal, on which he can stand, and from which he can view ultimate issues and the welcoming hospitalities of still wider spaces, even of the heavenly citizenship itself. This was the meaning of Christ's prayer when he said that he did not desire that his disciples should be taken out of the world, but that they should be kept from the evil in it. This was the meaning of Paul's desire that certain things should be used and not abused. This also is the full interpretation of the policy that men should marry as if they married not, buy and sell as if they bought and sold not, plough and sow as if they ploughed and sowed not: all this constitutes an experience which must be lived in order to be understood; when set forth in words it is simple contradiction and impossibility, but when advanced upon from the point of actual personal realisation, it becomes a massive and instructive harmony. Every man has to answer whether he will treat the world from a bodily or a spiritual point of view. Let it be fully known that he is at perfect liberty to treat it from either point; but whichever point he may choose he must accept the responsibility of the election. It cannot be too emphatically declared that spiritual goodness is not forced upon us— in fact, if the operation admitted of the presence of force, the goodness itself would be destroyed in that proportion. Man has the liberty to choose the wrong, but not the right to choose it. It should be considered an immorality to take any view either of mankind or time or space which is belittling, or which partakes of the nature of reduction to contempt; where the value goes down in things material it should only be because the value of things spiritual has risen in the thought and imagination, in the judgment and reason. Here, then, is comfort for the rich and the mighty. If they account their wealth enough, the world is no longer their tributary, but their master: if they accept their position in the spirit of stewardship and discharge its responsibilities with spiritual fidelity, then the world is made to contribute to their strength and usefulness, and is in very deed held in tribute to their spiritual suzerainty. Coming into closer quarters, and making the question still more personal, it will be found that it is possible for every man to constitute his own nature into a series of tributaries to his spiritual wealth and force. For example, every passion which agitates the human spirit should be made tributary to moral excellence. Take, for example, the passion of Ambition. Men wish to become more and more, greater and greater, richer and richer, and to exercise an ever-growing influence, and to live in the midst of ever-increasing applause. This desire may be mean or great, according to the use which is made of it; nothing is more contemptible when limited to selfish ends, and nothing more desirable when applied in disinterested directions. There is a holy ambition; there is a fever for power and influence which may burn to the glory of God. Such an ambition is never satisfied with little conquests or small delights; it contemplates the possession of the uttermost parts of the earth in the name of the King, and would hand over to him the whole heathen world as his lot and inheritance. Ambition thus becomes spiritual enthusiasm; the fire of it flames towards heaven with infinite energy. It is not the little ambition which dwindles into meanness and pitiable calculation as to means and ends; it is the heroic ambition which claims all creation as the theatre of its action, and all nature as its assistant in working out the conquest of peoples and nations, kindreds and tongues for Christ. Take again, for example, the passion of Resentment; that, indeed, is dangerous fire to play with. Some men seem to be naturally and almost incurably resentful; they love to avenge themselves; they are positively delighted when they see how judgment overtakes their personal enemies, and how their foes are dragged in the dust; they do not scruple to call this action providential, or to trace it to divine causes, which seem to recognise with just partiality their own peculiar virtues. Is it possible for resentment to be. made tributary to goodness? Yes; even this miracle can be wrought by the Lord Jesus Christ The resentment itself may not be destroyed, but it may be turned against the sin rather than against the sinner; by this use it is made tributary to the highest purposes. This is the kind of resentment which attests real spiritual growth. At first we burn against the evildoer. Our animosity may be said to be concrete or personal, and we suppose that resentment is gratified by the punishment of the individual offender; it is enough to satisfy our pride or to satiate our vengeance to see the bad man crushed or even destroyed. Christianity entirely corrects this view of penalty and this use of resentment. Instead of allowing us to fix upon the sinner, as if he in his person comprehended the whole problem and difficulty, it binds us to look at the sin, the boundless quantity, the infinite hugeness, that raises its black form into the heavens and casts a shadow upon the sky. Then resentment is divested of its pettiness, its selfish animosity, its evil humour, and is turned into a divine engine and an expression of the very heart of God against sin, which is the abominable thing which God hates. The man who has so treated his resentfulness has, by the Spirit of the living God, turned that resentfulness into a tributary to all that is best and strongest in his spiritual nature. Looking at this question from the directly opposite point of view, we shall find that all the higher faculties which distinguish man must be made to pay tribute to the spiritual dignity which makes him immortal. Our higher faculties may either be debased or exalted; that is to say, they may be made to impoverish us or to contribute towards the enlargement and strengthening of our character. Take, for example, the faculty of imagination. How easily we may become its victims! A life of utter falseness may be created or stimulated by the action of fancy. The whole world of deceit lies within the compass of imagination. By the perversion of imagination we tell lies to ourselves, we blot out all moral distinctions, we fail to discriminate between the right and the left, the upward and the downward; and imagination delights to show its genius by the multiplication of its falsehoods. On the other hand, imagination is absolutely essential to the interpretation of nature and revelation. Imagination sees possibilities, reconciles discrepancies, makes the rough places plain, and the high places low, and prepares the way of the Lord in every wilderness. Imagination delivers the soul from the narrowness and deceitfulness of the letter, and leads it into the gracious liberty of the spirit. Imagination is the flying faculty of the mind. Reason walks, halts, pauses to take its breath, looks round in wonder, half-religious, half-misbelieving, and puts down its conclusions haltingly and self-distrustfully; Reason stands by the side of the precipice and shudders at the contemplation of its depth; Reason looks out upon the unmeasured ocean, and wonders how any mariner dare tempt the deceitful waters: Imagination, on the other hand, flies across the abyss, spreads its infinite pinions and hovers over the sea as over a drop of dew; Imagination sees in the darkness as clearly as in the light, and is even more at home amid the multitude of the starry lights than in the companionship of the solitary sun. Men must, therefore, determine what use they will make of their imagination, being assured that it will either tend towards their destruction or towards the enlargement and beauty of their soul's life. Take, again, the high faculty of Wit or Humour, near to which is the kindred faculty, if it may be so called, of Pathos— the wondrous gift of tears. Wit may be turned into a tributary as certainly as may the power of prayer. Christ has room for wit in his great household; but wit must be a servant, not a master: it must teach by laughter what cannot be easily taught by philosophy: it must do by a flash what never could be done by a tedious process. Wit, irony, raillery, humour, pathos, all these may be so used as to loosen the solidity of character, or so employed as to increase its massiveness. Christianity never designed to drive away these faculties from the possession of man; on the contrary, it meant man to realise their presence, and turn that presence to the highest use. To lay down the contrary doctrine is to teach that Christianity can only live by the cutting away of one half of our human nature. In this sense, as in all others, Christ is to have the heathen for his inheritance and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession. Things which seem to lie farthest away from his Cross, his awful sacrifice, his infinite solemnity, are to be brought into service and laid under tribute; this also cometh forth from the Lord of hosts, who is excellent in counsel and wonderful in working. What is said of imagination and wit, of humour and pathos, may be said also of Eloquence and Music. These latter may be made into seductions that shall lead the soul away from the altar and the Cross: or they may be made into servants of the living God, unfolding his kingdom with all the splendours of expression and all the fascinations of melody. Christ must have these as well as every other faculty of the soul. Eloquence must wait upon him to receive the message, and then must turn that message into persuasive appeal. Music must stand by his side to learn his will, and then make it a lifelong study to turn the expression of that will into an unanswerable persuasive brought to bear upon the judgment and the will of the world. There is still another point of view from which this question of tribute may be regarded. Let us lay it down without misgiving, that all the practical conditions of life must be made tributary to Jesus Christ. Our social advantages will either overweight us or enable us to stand upon them as upon a pedestal whence we can view further distances and greater possibilities. It is sad to see manhood crushed by the very respectability of its environment. Are there not men who are overpowered by their own respectability?— such men, I mean, as have to consider the bearing of any spiritual action or attitude upon their social consequence: they wonder how such and such a course will be regarded in society. Such men. are not masters but slaves; they live for others in the base sense of being ruled by the whims and policies of others, and not in the holy sense of service and sacrifice. What good the rich man might do! What a contribution of influence the man of honour might make to every Christian cause I and the contribution would be the greater in proportion as that cause was shadowed and depressed by the haughtiness of other men. Then there is the condition of leisure. Surely leisure ought to be made tributary to the cause of the Saviour. To how many men may not the question be addressed: Why stand ye idle all the day? What a comfort they might be to their churches, to the sick, to the poor, to the ignorant! Even leisure shall be reckoned as an element in the judgment of our life. There are men so toil-bound and toil-driven that they have actually no time to render services of benevolence to their fellow-creatures; from early morning until late at night they are grinding at the wheel, and God knows how their energy is strained and their resources are exhausted, and he will be gentle in his judgment of men so hard driven. But there are others who have no need to toil in this servile fashion, who ought to consider whether they cannot withdraw from certain engagements and devote the time thus saved to more distinctively Christian purposes. There are others who have positively retired, in the general acceptation of the word, from the business of the world, upon whom leisure seems to rest as a burden, who might, were they rightly disposed, be eyes to the blind and feet to the lame, centres of strength and security to every good cause, pillars and supports of the very Church of God. The poorest of all poor things it is to have nothing to do. But I deny that any man has a right to the use of these words. When a man says he has nothing to do he simply blinds himself to the reality of his circumstances, or denies the reality of his responsibility. Such a man must be condemned because he uses false language or because he deceives himself by sophisms of the most selfish description. When all our men of wealth and men of leisure bind themselves in a holy bond to consecrate their time to the service of Christ, the poor, and the ignorant, the Church will be marked by an intenser and holier activity. God speed the coming of that time! The Church is cursed by indolence. Christians are doing nothing until they are doing everything. It is not enough for them to criticise, to pass opinions, to offer judgments, and thus indirectly to magnify their own importance; to work, always to work, every one to work, should be the motto of the Church which is blood-redeemed. Then there is another and final point which is not wanting, indeed, in surprise. Let it never be forgotten that even suffering itself may be made tributary to Christian character. We cannot escape suffering; but we can determine the use to which suffering shall be put. It may either be a dark presence to affright us, or a veiled angel to cheer us on our way. But this experience can only come out of real life. "No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." Jesus Christ endured the Cross, despising the shame; and when we inquire into the reason of this sublime contempt, we learn that he was animated by the joy that was set before him. The Apostle Paul rises into one of his noblest raptures as he crushes suffering under his feet and makes it contribute to his Christian steadfastness and joy. He says, "We glory in tribulations also:. knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us." The Apostle James continues in the same strain, saying, "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." Nor is the voice of the Apostle Peter wanting in this grand testimony as to the tributary position of suffering in the Christian life. His words are: "Rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy." And, again, he says, "If any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; but let him glorify God on this behalf." Here, then, we have a great tributary system established at the very centre of the Christian life. Nothing is destroyed but sin. Everything else is turned to a holy purpose. We use the world as not abusing it. In the coming and going of its lights and shadows we see a high spiritual symbolism; in the uncertainty of its joys we see how foolish it is for the immortal to attempt to find its satisfactions in the temporary; in all its beauty and fruitfulness we see the beginning of heaven: the morning is a benign encouragement; the night is a gracious rest; the summer is a hint of paradise, and death itself is a door opening upon heaven. Thus we come into a right relation to all things round about us. Until we knew Christ we stood in a false relation to everything; but now living in Christ and breathing his Spirit, we know exactly what the world is and what it can do, and whilst in" some moods we despise its littleness, in others we are enabled to accept every one of its intimations as an assistant to our faith and an increase to the brightness of our hope. Selected Note "But the Amorites would dwell in Mount Heres in Aijalon, and in Shaalbim: yet the hand of the house of Joseph prevailed, so that they became tributaries" (Judges 1:35). We find the Amorites first mentioned in Genesis 14:7— "The Amorites that dwelt in Hazezon-tamar," the cutting of the palm-tree, afterwards called Engedi, fountain of the kid, a city in the wilderness of Judæa not far from the Dead Sea. In the promise to Abraham (Genesis 15:21) the Amorites are specified as one of the nations whose country would be given to his posterity. But at that time three confederates of the patriarch belonged to this tribe: Mamre, Aner, and Eshcol (Genesis 14:13, Genesis 14:24). When the Israelites were about to enter the promised land, the Amorites occupied a tract on both sides of the Jordan. That part of their territories which lay to the east of the Jordan was allotted to the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh. They were under two kings— Sihon, king of Heshbon (frequently called king of the Amorites), and Og, king of Bashan, who "dwelt at Ashtaroth [and] in [at] Edrei" (Deuteronomy 1:4, compared with Joshua 12:4, Joshua 13:12). Before hostilities commenced messengers were sent to Sihon, requesting permission to pass through his land; but Sihon refused, and came to Jahaz and fought with Israel; and Israel smote him with the edge of the sword, and possessed his land from Arnon (Modjeb) unto Jabbok (Zerka) (Numbers 21:24). Og also gave battle to the Israelites at Edrei, and was totally defeated. After the capture of Ai, five kings of the Amorites, whose dominions lay within the allotment of the tribe of Judah, leagued together to wreak vengeance on the Gibeonites for having made a separate peace with the invaders. Joshua, on being apprised of their design, marched to Gibeon and defeated them with great slaughter (Joshua 10:10). Another confederacy was shortly after formed on a still larger scale; the associated forces are described as "much people, even as the sand upon the seashore in multitude, with horses and chariots very many" (Joshua 11:4). Josephus says that they consisted of 300,000 armed foot-soldiers, 10,000 cavalry, and 20,000 chariots. Joshua came suddenly upon them by the waters of Merom, and Israel smote them until they left none remaining (Joshua 11:7-8). Still, after their severe defeats, the Amorites, by means of their war-chariots and cavalry, confined the Danites to the hills, and would not suffer them to settle in the plains: they even succeeded in retaining possession of some of the mountainous parts. "The Amorites would dwell in Mount Heres in Aijalon, and in Shaalbim: yet the hand of the house of Joseph prevailed, so that they became tributaries. And the coast of the Amorites was from the going up to Akrabbim (the steep of scorpions) from the rock and upwards" (Judges 1:34-36). It is mentioned as an extraordinary circumstance that in the days of Samuel there was peace between Israel and the Amorites (1 Samuel 7:14). In Solomon's reign a tribute of bond-service was levied on the remnant of the Amorites and other Canaanitish nations (1 Kings 9:21; 2 Chronicles 8:8). PrayerAlmighty God, let thy goodness appear unto us as a new light shining from heaven. We know it is as venerable as thyself; still, may it be new to us as the dawning of another day; may we have a new sense of thy goodness, a new feeling of its largeness, and may we answer its appeal with the service and sacrifice of a whole life. Thou dost send the years upon us one by one, that we may work in them, and study thy will, and do what we can to realise thy purpose: enable us to see thy meaning, to trace thy hand, to obey thy will; condescend to fill us continually with the Holy Spirit. We bless thee that we have a religious idea of time: no longer are the hours silent to us; they cry unto us to arise, and work, and suffer, and pray, and hope; we would answer their appeal; we would rise early and toil late, if haply by thy grace we may do thy holy will. For all the helps thou dost give us by the way we bless thee; for the day of rest we especially thank thee: for a moment thou dost drive back the great flood, and still the noises of the world, and give us rest in thy house within the shadow of the altar; whilst we are there may we hear thy voice, and see the image of thy love, and be filled with thy Spirit: then shall the coming week answer our hand; we shall be able to guide its affairs with discretion, with enlarged wisdom which is never baffled, and with Christian hopefulness which gives songs in the night time. Thus would we begin the year in God's strength and in God's fear, hoping continually in God, living in the Son of God, Christ Jesus the Saviour, eating his flesh, drinking his blood, partaking of his Spirit, and entering into the mystery of his love. May no vow that is good be broken; may no purpose that is noble be frustrated; may our will be set steadily in the direction of heaven, and may thine angels come around us as ministering spirits, giving us assistance, light, stimulus, according to the need of the day. Thy mercies towards us have been beyond all number. As for thy compassions, there is no figure by which we can make them known: they are tender beyond all tenderness, they yearn over us with infinite solicitude,— because thy compassions fail not, therefore we are not consumed. We would live upon thy love; we would find everything within that gracious mystery— all aid to read the Bible, all comfort in sorrow, all light in darkness; we would see it become the resurrection and the life in the presence of our dearest dead. According to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, be gracious unto all thy people; give them double in exchange for all thou hast laid upon them, that by multiplied joy they may be enabled to see the meaning of discipline, and by added comfort they may know what thou dost mean by the rod of humiliation. Let our homes be precious in thy sight, our little dwelling-places, where the fire means hospitality, where the door means security, where the window means an outlook upon heaven's light; the Lord grant unto us in our bouses security, protection, comfort, and make our table as a banqueting-table of God, whereat we eat what is good for the soul and drink of the wine of the Saviour's blood. Be with us in our businesses; they are many, trying, fluctuating,— now so hard, now too easy; now a great temptation, and now a violent distress; the Lord help us to get rid of these by working at them patiently and lovingly, in the spirit of heavenly citizenship, and encountering all earthly trials, losses, difficulties, with contempt, because we look for an inheritance incorruptible, which cannot fade away. Regard the children with a father's love. We are all children in thy sight. Thou hast nought but little ones in all the nursery of the universe. But thou knowest to whom we refer as the children. Give them strength of body, brightness of mind, hopefulness of spirit, and open their way in the world, that they may see that all affairs are under God's hand and all issues are with the Lord. Heal the sick, if healing be good for them; and if thou dost not heal the body with health that must again decline, heal the spirit with immortality. Grant a blessing to every heart; specially to those hearts made sore and twice tender by chastisement, loss, bereavement, new visions of the littleness of life, and new glimpses of the possible eternity. In all good things and wise ways and holy resolves strengthen, stablish, settle us; and as for our sins, having first seen them, may we next see the Cross, and in that higher sight we shall lose the memory and the sting of guilt. Amen. Divine and Human Influence Judges 2DO not trouble yourselves about the personality or name of this angel that "came up from Gilgal to Bochim." He is always "coming up." Why do we miss great meanings by fastening upon little pedantic points? The angel charged the people with having broken God's conditions, upon which he promised to be with them and keep his covenant with their houses. That angel still lives. Now we call him Memory, or Conscience. What is there in the change of name? He is an angel still. He is the wonderful Presence in life which takes note of all our goings, thoughts, and doings,— an invisible, un-slumbering Spirit that, so to say, keeps the covenant in one hand, and our life in the other, and looks to see how the harmony is sustained. If now and then the Spirit should turn from the covenant and say to the life, Think I you are wrong; you are out of course; you have lost step and touch with Heaven— surely we should say the voice is the voice of an angel; it is no common rough tone of accusation, but an appeal spoken sweetly to the innermost heart and thought of the man, and should be answered according to its own quality. Thus we get great meanings in the ancient records. But if we stand here and ask questions about angels, their history, their figure, the law of their movements— inquiries to which there can be no possible answers— we shall feel ourselves no longer in a flowering garden, golden with the richness of summer, but in a burning and waste wilderness. Give the angel good hearing. Never arrest unduly or impatiently the voice of reproach and accusation, but answer it rationally, fearlessly: if there is nothing in the accusation, the answer will be short and easy; but, contrariwise, if the accusation is really sound and true, consider it, be not afraid of it, and with reverent familiarity interrogate it, apply it, and escape from its honest charges by better behaviour. The people having heard the accusation, "lifted up their voice and wept. And they called the name of that place Bochim"— a place of weeping, a place of many tears. So they were not lost. This is the value of emotion: its presence indicates that the heart is not utterly dead to all solemn appeal and heavenly judgment. However fickle the life— and the best life is fickle— let us thank God if we can feel the tone of accusation, the language of reproach, and answer it even with the feeble answer of tears. Oftentimes tears are the best words. Were we to answer the accusation of the angel with words, we should get into controversy, and controversy lies at an infinite distance from repentance. When we lose speech we may gain power. It is better to bow down the head in silent, tearful sorrow, when the accusation is poured down upon us, than to attempt to answer it by petty excuses, or by inventing replies which are as feeble as they are dishonest. So the people cry, and begin again. They were human. In this respect we ourselves are of the same race. Our days represent but a series of evil actions and late repentances. A singular mixture is life:— prayer, and blasphemy; high-handed rebellion, and meek humiliation; great vows, majestic in their moral nobleness, and lies of which lost spirits might be ashamed. In the seventh verse we come to a more human aspect of the exciting history:— "And the people served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of the elders that outlived Joshua, who had seen all the great works of the Lord, that he did for Israel." (Judges 2:7) What a noble influence may be exerted by one consecrated life! "The people served the Lord all the days of Joshua." We have had similar experience. We say: Since the leader died the followers have gone sadly astray. Or we say: Had the leader lived, it would not have been thus; he would have kept us together; his gracious domination would have ruled us aright; our reverence for him amounted to a species of religion. Or we say: Since the just critic died things have become demoralised; he was a just judge; he was generous withal; he saw the best side of every man, and took the kindliest view of every subject: but he was so strong, so true, so honest; his voice was a judgment, his look was an approbation or a disfavour; everything about him was of a noble, healthy, beautiful kind; since he died there is no judge in the land. So we may come by an examination of our own experience to understand many of these old biblical incidents. What a compliment is this to Joshua! How little, perhaps, did Joshua know what he was doing! If you ask for a eulogium upon Joshua, where will you find it? Is it set forth in any special form? Can we turn to a given page and say, Behold the eulogy spoken by the most eloquent lips of the time; see how paragraph follows paragraph, how climax heightens above climax, till the noble panegyric makes one feel how good a thing it was to live in the days of old? There is no such page, there is no such eulogy; but read this seventh verse and say whether it is not praise enough for any son of man:— "And the people served the Lord all the days of Joshua." That is the only eulogium worth having: a great social influence, a sublime, beneficent action, operating all the time and upon everybody, and yet the man himself saying little and seldom seen. There are many eulogies: some in noble words that can only be credited by the imagination; some in out-of-the-way actions and silent deeds and subtle influences which can only be fully comprehended by a kindred spirit— yea, even by God himself. Let us thank God for our leader. The father is a Joshua in the family. So long as he lives there will be no controversy amongst the children: they all love him, so that one word of his will be final; were there tumult in the house he could by one sentence settle it,— not by arbitrary authority, but because of something in his quality not to be defined or measured, something that begets a magnificent moral reverence and trust. So it is in business, so in the State, so in the Church, so everywhere. The one true life may be keeping a thousand other lives in the right direction. A beautiful picture is given in the eighth verse:— "And Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died, being an hundred and ten years old." (Judges 2:8) Joshua gone. All that generation gathered to their fathers:— "There arose another generation after them, which knew not the Lord, nor yet the works which he had done for Israel"— a blind generation, utterly poor, historically penniless; men without anything that was more than one day old. These are the weights which time has to carry; these are the burdens of the ages; these are the men who let history die. What men should we be if we realised our history! Could we see the past as it ought to be seen, it would be like a cloud of spirits, a great army of angels, a sky shaded rather than darkened by heroic spirits, master souls that ruled their time. The other generation is always coming— the poor, penniless generation, the non-related generation; the generation that thinks every man a separate atom, or individual without any relation to the sum-total of things,— this is the generation that loses religion. Why? Because religion is historical. Religion binds man fast to the past. Religion does not incline itself towards the future in some selfishly expectant attitude; it lies back upon the past, and by the past seizes the future. We should be ashamed of some people— the people that talk mincingly, vain-gloriously, with affectation, with superficiality, win look upon life as a thing begun yesterday, and to be enjoyed today, and left tomorrow; they make us sore of heart; we feel poor in their presence; they have not seen "the great works of the Lord;" they have not bowed down to some worthy leadership and accepted its discipline and chastisement; they have influence only for a moment because they speak of things that endure but for a moment. Let us pray for the preservation of heroic memories. Let us remember that we never could have had a Bible to read if some men had not printed it as with their blood and bound it with their martyrdom. Let us think that we could not meet in many a Protestant church if there had not been men who counted not their lives dear unto them that they might stand up for liberty and defy the whole brood of hell. Now we ask little questions about things that our fathers died for! We now use the liberty they bought to praise the very tyranny which killed them. So the generations come and go:— "And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord, and served Baalim: And they forsook the Lord God of their fathers, which brought them out of the land of Egypt, and followed other gods, of the gods of the people that were round about them, and bowed themselves unto them, and provoked the Lord to anger. And they forsook the Lord, and served Baal and Ashtaroth" (Judges 2:11-13). How did the Lord answer them? He could not answer them in words. There are times when words are useless. The answer is in the fourteenth verse:— "And the anger of the Lord was hot against Israel, and he delivered (hem into the hands of spoilers that spoiled them, and he sold them into the hands of their enemies round about, so that they could not any longer stand before their enemies." (Judges 2:14) Selected Note "And they called the name of that place Bochim" (Judges 2:5).— Bochim (the weepings) was the name given to a place (probably near Shiloh, where the tabernacle then was) where an "angel of the Lord" reproved the assembled Israelites for their disobedience in making leagues with the inhabitants of the land, and for their remissness in taking possession of their heritage. This caused the bitter weeping among the people for which the place took its name. PrayerAlmighty God, thou hast heard the prayers of thy saints, and answered them with great love. We ourselves know this, and our hope in God is as a strong trust. We know when we have prayed unto thee, because the answer is in our hearts whilst we are yet speaking. We know the heavenly Presence; we can tell when we have reached thy throne: behold, thou dost come to us and turn our prayers into sweet replies in the very act of offering our supplications at thy throne. We are thankful as we look back upon the years that are gone. We will think of thy mercy, and not of our sin; we will dwell upon the lovingkindness of God, and not upon the rebellion of our own hearts. The years have been full of thy mercies; thy compassions glitter in them like jewels: thou truly hast been good unto Israel, even to them that are of a clean heart; and thou hast also been kind unto the unthankful and to the evil: whilst thy rain and thy sunshine have fallen upon the good, they have not been withheld from the unjust. We look onward with hope. Thou wilt not forsake us in the seventh trouble; thou wilt redeem thy covenant to its utmost letter, yea, thou wilt add to it and exceedingly multiply thy grace towards us. Keep us in the holy way; show us the sanctuary that is on high, and may our hearts desire to be in it night and day; may we measure all things by its weights and balances and standards: then shall we know when we are right and when God is pleased. Give us to see more and more of the grace that is in Christ Jesus, Son of man, Son of God. He was the express image of his Father, the very brightness of his glory. May we study his words profitably, lovingly, seeking out their meaning with earnest hearts and receiving the same in all its fulness. We commend one another to thy tender care. Thou knowest what we need most— in ourselves, in our houses, in our businesses. Thou knowest the serpent that is pleading with us, telling us the lies we like to hear. Thou knowest the weak point in the character, where the assault tells most immediately and most disastrously. Thou knowest every trap set for our feet, and gin and snare, cunningly laid, that we may be taken and overthrown. We know nothing about it ourselves. We look on, and see nothing but a great cloud. We will therefore trust in the living God, putting our hand into his and asking to be led and directed and sustained by the eternal Spirit. Whether our days be many or few, may they be bright with thy presence, and wealthy with honest and good service. Where there is a difference between man and man, oh heal the controversy and restore the love; where there is difficulty at home, dissolve the perplexity; where there is sorrow because of the family— wandering, unfilial, broken— speak some new parable that shall bring the wanderers all back again, or the old parable, but with the sweetness of a new tone. Be with those who are in trouble on the sea— that great, weary, unfriendly, threatening sea. Be with those who are in deeper trouble— the trouble of mind and heart, who are suffering from the sting of accusation and remorse, and the bitterness of just reproach;— yea, according to our varied necessity do thou come to us, and love us, and heal us, and do us good. We pray every prayer at the Cross, and we feel it not to be a prayer until we have spoken the crowning name of Jesus— Jesus Christ— Immanuel— God with us. Amen. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"And when the Lord raised them up judges, then the Lord was with the judge"—Judges 2:18. A picture of society when divinely constructed.— The economy of mediation is here, as everywhere, observed.— The great principle of election is here also affirmed.— The judges were raised up by the Lord.— Men did not make themselves judges, nor did the people arbitrarily appoint and dismiss the judges.— The appointment was divine.— So it ought to be considered in all magistracy, judgeship, and government.— Society is a piece of mosaic wrought out by the loving hands of God.— God will only speak through the judges whom he himself has created and appointed.— The judge should recognise this himself, and be modest and self-restrained in proportion.— The true leader is always himself a follower of the divine guidance.— Elevation to office does not mean release from responsibility, but rather a responsibility that is enlarged and sanctified.— In times of national crisis men should pray that God would send the right leaders into the land, and clothe those leaders with appropriate influence.— It is in vain to have an orthodox Church and an atheistic State— that is to say, that the Church may be guided by God, but that the State may attempt to govern itself.— The Church should continually pray for the State, and thus acknowledge that God is the God of nations as well as the God of churches.— It is marvellous to observe how throughout the whole Scripture, all great appointments are acknowledged to be in the hands of God.— The children of Israel cried unto the Lord, and Moses was sent; again they cried, and judges were raised up; and so throughout the whole historical line, until Jesus Christ says, "Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest."— This is a lesson quite as much to those who suppose themselves to be appointed to high authority, as for the peoples whom they rule or attempt to direct.— The true judge, minister, leader, statesman, will recognise that he is divinely appointed, and therefore accountable to God.— This will give moderation to his counsels, and invest all his thoughts and purposes with supreme solemnity, and will subdue the pomp of office by the consciousness of personal obligation to God. Othniel Judges 3:9-11A GREAT prayer marks a historical point in the life of any man or any people. We know when we have prayed. The people who ask questions in a controversial tone about prayer never prayed themselves, and so long as they are in that spirit they cannot pray. This exercise is not to be explained to outsiders; this is an inner mystery. The publican knew that he had prayed when he said, "God be merciful to me a sinner." He needed not to ask any man whether a prayer had been offered, for he himself, the contrite suppliant, had the answer in his heart before the last word escaped his lips. We are dull indeed if we do not know when we have struck a full chord. Something in us says, That is right. We have uttered many words, and at the end we have said, That is not prayer; the words are devout, the phrases are devotional, they would read well in print, some good spirits might turn them into prayer, but we who uttered them did not pray. Why then debate about this matter, or talk about it as if it were subject for analysis and definition and formal treatment of any kind? We know when we have touched the hem of Christ's garment by the healing that instantly takes place in the spirit. Answers in detail may require long time to work out, but the great answer is in the healed heart, the comforted soul, the quieted and resigned spirit. Other replies there may or may not be,— all these must be left: the great answer to prayer is an answer to the soul which the soul only can hear and apply. "When the children of Israel cried unto the Lord "— an energetic term is that— "cried." It was a piercing shout of the heart. The words did not come out of the mouth only; they were hardly in the mouth at all; they shot from the heart within— the burning, lowly, broken heart. We know a cry when we hear it or when we utter it; there is fire in it, a touch of immortality, a strange ghostliness. Truly in such case the voice is the man, the tone is the prayer. There are calls to which we pay no heed. We say they are calls expressive of merriment or folly, or intended to play upon our credulity; we know them to be hollow and meaningless; but there are cries we must answer, or get somebody else to answer: they come so suddenly, they strike the very soul so truly, there is so much of real earnestness in them, that if we ourselves are frightened by their energy we tell the next person we meet where the trouble is, where sorrow cries for help, where weakness pleads for assistance. You cannot talk about prayer in cold blood. This is not a subject to be discussed in current conversation, passing along the thoroughfare, or upon some quiet occasion: you have dragged the subject to a base level; you are speaking about it as if you were masters of the situation: you can only speak about prayer whilst you are praying, and then you will never speak about it controversially but sympathetically and confirmingly; and when the heart has really cried— that sharp cry which cuts the clouds— you will know that the heart in its agony has touched God's love. Turn away, then, from those who would make prayer a matter of controversy and inquiry and analysis and vivisection; it is not to be so treated; it is a secret masonry with a password all its own between the soul and the soul's God. The prayer was answered:— "The Lord raised up a deliverer." The answer came in a human form. That is a remarkable circumstance. The answer might have come otherwise; but God delights in incarnations. He aims at something in all these human leaderships; he is conducting a process of evolution. Many a man bearing the title of Leader has come before us, and each has, so far as he has been faithful to his vocation, been an incarnation of God's thought and purpose and will. The matter cannot end here. All these are temporary incarnations, but charged with infinite suggestiveness, and always leading the mind to higher expectation— subtler, deeper yearnings for some broader and brighter disclosure of the divine personality. But we must not anticipate. The Bible is given to us in pages, and every page must be read, and there must be no vain haste. This is still God's method, to answer by incarnation. A friend is sent who has the key of the gate which you cannot open; a brother is met who speaks the word your poor heart most needed to hear; an occasion is created suddenly or unconsciously, and it shapes itself into a temple, becomes a holy sanctuary, a sphere of radiant revelation. This is what we mean by providence. Why has not every man an equal influence over us? Because every man is not sent to our life with a special message. There are men who can sing, there are men who can preach, there are men who can read the Bible and read it as it were into inspiration as to its influence upon the hearer,— these Othniels are God's creations; in a sense,— God's presence, divine incarnations. "The Spirit of the Lord came upon him." There is no mistaking that Spirit. It was not an awakening of anything that was in the man himself, but a descent from heaven of the Supreme Influence. Othniel, a common man yesterday to all observation, is today an inspired man, "a little lower than God." As a consequence the man was not vainglorious. No inspired man can be conceited. He does not know that he is great He knows that he is the instrument of God. The most inspired of men have said, "We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." Inspiration means modesty; genius means retirement, self-obliviousness, disregard of circumstance or applause. The inspired life is the unconscious life. To us who look on, the inspired man is great, wonderful,— we cannot understand the miracle; to himself he is but a child in God's house, quite a little one, hardly able to walk, asking questions by his looks of wonder, praying himself into ever-deepening lowliness. The poet does not know that he is a poet in the sense which is applauded by those who understand not his spirit; he breathes his poetry. Paul breathed his Christianity; to him to live was Christ, to breathe was to pray, to look was to rejoice. We shall know when the Church is inspired by its lowliness. Find men who are fretful, peevish, always susceptible to offence, complaining men, "ill-used" men; and you will find men who know nothing about the Spirit of Christ: their money perish with them; their patronage would be a great shadow laid upon the Church. The Church must be healthy in her goodness, mighty in her inspiration. Othniel could not communicate his power. Inspiration is not an article of barter. Nor could Othniel keep his inspiration without conditions. Everything we have we hold upon certain understandings of an eternal kind: they need not be expressed; they are unwritten, but indelible; they cannot be seen with the eyes, nor can they be blotted out by the hand: they belong to the necessity of things, the fitness and harmony of the universe. Whatever we hold we hold upon our good behaviour. We are tenants at will. The greatest Othniel in the Church would be cast out of heaven if he allowed his purity to be spotted, his honour to be stained, his stewardship to be tampered with. Not one of us is essential to God. The first archangel holds his mighty wings on his good behaviour: let him lie, or touch the forbidden tree, and his great wings would fall powerless, his eye would be smitten with death. "Once inspired always inspired" is no doctrine of the Scriptures. We stand or fall by our spiritual relation to the divine. "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall;" and let the chief of the apostles keep himself in constant check lest when his mightiest discourse is ended he himself become a castaway. We live in character. Our immortality— blissful, heavenly— is in our relation to Christ. We have no independence, no charter entitling us to invent a morality of our own; we are measured by eternal standards, we are judged in the court of the Infinite Righteousness. Othniel had a special work to do: he was raised up to deliver Israel, to destroy the power of the king of Mesopotamia; and having done that work he died. When shall we come to know that every man is called to one work, particularly if not exclusively? Herein do we not judge one another harshly and unjustly? The work of Othniel was not a manifold work; he was not a multitudinous genius, able to see behind and before, on the right and on the left, and to be equally strong by day and by night; he was not so much a statesman as a deliverer; he was mighty in war, he might be but second in counsel. Each man, therefore, must find out his own faculty, and be just to it; if he fail in discovering it, then he will be unjust to his true self. If you are aiming to be some other self, you will fail and be unfaithful to God's purpose. One man is sent to do business, to show how business ought to be done, to make commerce a religion. Another man is sent to sing, to make us glad, to show us by tones that there must be some other world— to touch our highest sensibilities and move our noblest impulses, and comfort us in our distresses and make new stars for the darkness of the night; let him keep his singing robes on, rising high up in the sky so that everybody may hear him and answer him with electric joy: he has a great vocation, has that singing man; he helps even the commerce of the world. Another man is sent to pray. He must live upon his knees. He knows how to speak human want in human words. He never says one word too much, never one word too little; he knows the measure of the sorrow, he knows where the burden presses most heavily, he knows where the heart's sore is most painful; and his is surely a holy vocation. Let him keep at the altar; never let him rise from his posture of prayer. He will do us good, and not evil. He, too, though seemingly so far away from the world's real strife, is helping the world in its most prosaic servitude. When the Church acknowledges this doctrine, the Church will receive more from her leaders, teachers, and supporters. We must not live a divided life: "This one thing I do" must be the motto of every man. Nor must there be judgment of one another, saying, You should do this, or do that Let alone! Touch not the prerogative of God! We, too, needed a deliverer. We had given up the idea of self-emancipation. Once we thought we could break our own manacles and fetters, and set ourselves free, and sing the songs of liberty. We tried, we tried often, we all tried,— we failed, we all failed. When there was no eye to pity and no arm to save, God's eye pitied and God's arm wrought salvation. "Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength? I that speak in righteousness, mighty to save." It is the joy of the Christian Church to believe that there is only one Redeemer, one Lord, one Christ, one Advocate, one Paraclete. This is the gospel. This is the good news itself. When we preach it, we shatter all idols of a selfish kind; we say to Invention, to Genius, You are of no use here: you cannot break a link, you cannot shed a light upon this infinite gloom. Preaching Christ, we denounce all other helpers and deliverers, except in some secondary and related capacity. There is one Son of God; there is one Cross; there is one atonement; there is but one hope. We read history, and recognise deliverers, and are thankful when they appear, and we doubt not the reality of their deliverances: why should we in the presence of Jesus Christ forget to adore and forget to trust? They who have known most about Christ have most to say in his favour. Those who have not known Christ are not asked for their opinion about him. We do not ask the blind to pronounce upon colours, or seek from the deaf a criticism upon music: Christians alone can testify in this court, and their evidence is conclusive because it is sustained by character and can be tested and appreciated. Who is looking for a deliverer? let him turn his eyes to the Son of God. Who is saying in the bitterness of his soul, "O, that I might be saved from this horrible distress and delivered from this unfathomable abyss "? let him turn his eyes to the Son of God. Who is mourning sin, having felt its bitterness and seen its abominableness? let him turn his eyes to the Son of God. He came to deliver, to emancipate, to save: "this Man receiveth sinners." He is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him. Let us feel this, believe this, and commit our souls unto Christ as unto a faithful Creator. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"And they were to prove Israel by them, to know whether they would hearken unto the commandments of the Lord, which he commanded their fathers by the hand of Moses."—Judges 3:4. This may show us the part which our enemies have to play in the education and development of our lives.— The Lord left so many nations, as the Canaanites, the Zidonians, and the Hivites, that they might subject Israel to continual testing to prove their quality.— It is so that hardships are permitted to continue in the life.— When we ask why we should be surrounded by limitations so exact, and even by opponents so hostile, we should remember that this was the plan which God pursued in the training of his ancient people.— This is the divine purpose of all human affliction.— God must be left to determine what tests are best for our quality.— Men are not to choose their own tests and standards, but are to accept the chastening of the Lord, and to go into the furnace which the Almighty has specifically appointed.— Different men are tried in different ways, but the object of the trial is the same.— Your business perplexities are sent to prove your honesty; your bodily afflictions are imposed to test your courage and trust; your family difficulties are allowed to continue that the life of the household may be strengthened and refined; your bitterest rival is permitted to run his course side by side with you that your temper may be sweetened, your charity enlarged, and your whole tone of mind elevated.— Thus we are brought to consider the religious uses of opposition and hardships, and to identify their very presence with the distinct purpose of God.— When we can take this view of them we shall use them rather than fear them, and in due time shall come to account them as in some sort friends and teachers.— "My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord.' Ehud Judges 3:15A with a lefthand seems to be a contradiction in terms or a piece of practical irony. The Divine Being, in sending Ehud in reply to the cry of the children of Israel, seems to mock the very prayer which he answers. Such a reply is full of subtle suggestion, to the effect that the Israelites really need not have made such a cry about their circumstances, because even in their forlorn condition a lefthanded man would show himself to be equal to the occasion. When we pray to God for help it is with some idea that an angel will be sent, and that all Heaven's artillery will be placed at our disposal that we may resist or destroy the foe. Instead of an angel there comes a man with a lefthand, or as he is elsewhere called an "ambidexter"— that is, a man who can use both hands with equal ease. Has not God continually disappointed the expectation of people in the matter of leadership? Again and again it appears in sacred history as if the leader were altogether unlikely to accomplish his task either by reason of bodily infirmity or mental incapacity. What was Moses but a stammering shepherd? And was not Christ himself regarded with disdain because of the lowliness of his origin? Between these two great captaincies a number of others will be found illustrative of the same principle. On the matter of lefthandedness we are reminded of the boast of Hector: "Many a Greek hath bled by me, and I can shift my shield from right to left." In another part of the book of Judges we read respecting the children of Benjamin: "Among all this people there were seven hundred chosen men lefthanded; every one could sling stones at an hair breadth, and not miss." Plato recommended all his soldiers to acquire equal facility in the use of both hands, but these very references show that lefthandedness is quite a peculiarity. We do not remark upon a man that he has the use of his right hand, that he writes with it, points with it, or performs the usual duties of life with it; but when a man is lefthanded the incident instantly strikes us as a peculiarity. All these peculiarities are noticed in the Bible. We have already seen that men were known in many instances by little circumstances or trifling peculiarities. All such identifications lead us to the great consolatory doctrine that the very hairs of our head are all numbered. All kinds of men are made use of in the Bible. There is no peculiarity, however strange, that may not be used as an instrument for the promotion of truth and goodness, or the defence of right and weakness. No man should be discouraged because of his peculiarities, for in truth though in some respects his weakness, they may in other respects be his strength. It has been noticed by close observers of human affairs that almost every cripple is endowed with some speciality of power which gives him pre-eminence among his fellows. What he wants in dignity he may make up in skill. The very infirmity which drives him into solitude may be the occasion of his acquiring richer learning, or training his insight to profounder and clearer views of providence and humanity. Men ought not therefore to be discouraged because of peculiarities however striking. Does not the text throw us back upon the oft-recurring doctrine that the many may be dependent upon the one? All the ciphers are turned into value by the single unit that is placed at their head. Without that unit they would be simply nothing, but with that unit they become millions strong. The children of Israel were many, even a great host, numerous enough to turn their desires into a great noise which they dignified by the name of prayer. Why then did they not work out their own deliverance? Have we not been wrong on this subject of majorities? Is there not a quality as well as a quantity to be considered in estimating human influence? Eglon, king of Moab, had oppressed Israel, yet as soon as Ehud was raised up their liberation was effected, and the sorrows and burdens of eighteen years were forgotten when the deliverer appeared upon the scene. There is unquestionably a philosophy of monopoly in the matter of human influence. One man keeps the key of secrets. Another man speaks the word which inspires the courage of dejected hearts. Another man is blessed with farsightedness and can see the very spectre of deliverance when it first appears upon the distant horizon. Another man has such richness of character as to be a tower of strength in the day of shaking and desolation. One man may be in a better position than a great number of men can possibly be. The individual moves rapidly from place to place; he can move noiselessly; he can take his own time for the making of certain observations; above all things, he can keep his own counsel; for who does not know that whispering is the ruin of confidence and the very annihilation of strength? The Ehuds of society find that their power lies in their individuality. They know the difference between leading the crowd and consulting it. In all great leaderships consultation must be a kind of compliment and in no wise a necessity. At a critical point in important affairs it is the one man who must decide the course of the journey or the policy of the battle. Is it then altogether well with the great man? Probably not. We see his greatness and admire his elevation and wonder about his gifts, but we forget that all high qualities bring with them severe taxation, and that power is the measure of responsibility. It may be that to obey is easier than to direct Certainly the responsibility is of a higher grade. Beyond all question he who cannot obey cannot rule. The men pray for a deliverer, and a deliverer is given in answer to prayer; their business should be to receive the deliverer, hold him in honour, obey his commandments, and do all that within them lies to consolidate his power. All this is true in merely political directions. The great statesman keeps his party together. The great professor unites and glorifies the university. The brilliant commander makes his army as the heart of one man. But these are exceptional cases and can hardly be quoted for daily purposes. There is, however, a truth in connection with this doctrine that is constantly available in all the practical conditions of life, and that truth is that the good man who is also wise may command a deep and gracious influence in social affairs. Goodness is always influential; not necessarily in the sense of continuousness, without break or interruption, for there are times when goodness itself is silenced, but always in the sense of appearing at critical times and under circumstances which give its word infinite weight and consequence. In illustration of this, read the account in the Acts of the Apostles of a shipwreck, in which Paul took command of all things and was more than captain. "By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted: but it is overthrown by the mouth of the wicked." Covet earnestly the best gifts. We are very dainty about our instruments. In this matter we have committed the most mischievous errors in the administration of Church affairs and the appointment of spiritual ministries. Who ever prayed God to send a lefthanded man to save the country? Who has not been disappointed when a lefthanded man actually came and said he had been sent to do the work? The prayers which the Church sends to heaven for ministers are prayer's in many instances which the Divine Being can only reject with contempt. Our prayer asks that God would send into the Christian ministry men of great intellectual capacity, men of burning eloquence, men capable of receiving the highest educational culture, men able to address the most gifted classes of society; what is all this but dictating to God or making our own conception of the situation the measure of God's bounty? All such prayers are impertinences. The consolation is that God pays no heed to them but sends the kind of men who can do the work after his own will and in defiance of many preconceptions on the part of men. Let us pray God to make his own choice, to send whom he will— king or peasant, man of stammering tongue or eloquent speech; he must choose the labourers, and thrust them forth into his own harvest. It must not be supposed that a man is necessarily an Ehud simply because he is lefthanded. In this direction our thoughts need to be continually guarded. We may see the lefthandedness and generalise too broadly concerning it The peculiarity must have something behind it, for in itself it is nothing. We must not reason that because Ehud was lefthanded every lefthanded man is an Ehud. Bunyan was a tinker, but it does not follow that every tinker is a Bunyan. There is a danger of mistaking an eccentricity for a law and setting up false or inadequate standards of judgment, Moses stammered or was of slow speech. It does not follow that every stutterer is a Moses. Do not magnify the peculiarity, and certainly do not disdain it. We say about some men that appearances are not in their favour. Were appearances in favour of this lefthanded man? We imagine that we show our sagacity by discovering in a candidate for favour some littleness or infirmity or awkwardness which disentitles him to confidence. "Look not on the height of his stature."— "Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." Paul was aware that his bodily presence was weak and his speech contemptible, at least in the estimation of those who looked upon him with evil eyes. The great instance is of course always to be found in the Son of God himself. He had no form nor comeliness, and there was no beauty that men should desire him. He was as a root out of a dry ground. He took upon him the form of a servant and was made in the likeness of man. Like the psalmist he was "a reproach of men, and despised of the people." Thus we are brought again to the great doctrine which he himself laid down: "Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment." Selected Note Ehud, of the tribe of Benjamin, was one of the "judges" of Israel, or rather of that part of Israel which he delivered from the dominion of the Moabites by the assassination of their king Eglon. These were the tribes beyond the Jordan, and the southern tribes on this side the river. Ehud obtained access to Eglon as the bearer of tribute from the subjugated tribes, and being lefthanded, or rather ambidextrous, he was enabled to use with a sure and fatal aim a dagger concealed under a part of his dress, where it was unsuspected, because it would there have been useless to a person employing his right hand. The Israelites continued to enjoy for eighty years the independence obtained through this deed of Ehud (Judges 3:15-30). Shamgar Judges 3:31SHAMGAR was the third judge in Israel. He was at the beginning a labouring man, a tiller of the ground, and it is thought that on account of the exploit recorded of him in the text he was raised to dignity. According to the Song of Deborah (Judges 5:6) life was very insecure at that time:— "In the days of Shamgar the son of Anath, in the days of Jael, the highways were unoccupied, and the travellers walked through byways." What is termed an "ox goad" in the text is literally "a thing to teach oxen." Ox goads have always been regarded as formidable instruments some eight feet long and pointed with a strong, sharp iron head. The Thracian king Lycurgus is said to have chased the Bacchanals with an ox goad. According to Ellicott's Bible— "The Athenians in their painting of Marathon represent the gigantic rustic Echetlus, who was supposed to have slain so many Persians with his ploughshare." A traveller who had seen Eastern ploughing thus writes: "It was observable that in ploughing they used goads of an extraordinary size; upon measuring several I found them about eight feet long, and at the bigger end six inches in circumference. They were armed at the lesser end with a sharp prickle for driving the oxen, and at the other end with a small, spade or paddle of iron, strong and massy, for cleansing the plough from the clay which encumbers it in working." Shamgar was working in the field with one of those goads when six hundred Philistines made their appearance but so vigorously did he wield it that not a man of the whole crowd escaped with his life. According to the authority already quoted, "it has been most needlessly assumed that he slew them single-handed, and not, as is probable, at the head of a band of peasants armed with the same rude weapons as himself.... But the question here is merely one of interpretation, and nothing is more common in Scripture, as in all literature, than to say that a leader personally did what was done under his leadership." One of the most obvious lessons deducible from this incident is that we should not complain of our tools when we have hard work to do. When the work is done badly we are apt to blame the tools. Shamgar used an ox goad; Samson wielded the jawbone of an ass; David had but a sling and stone. Sometimes we think what wonders we should do if we had better instruments. The bad writer blames his pen. The unskilful carver grumbles at his knife. The unsuccessful preacher says that he could do better if his church were in a better locality, or if some rearrangement of woodwork could be made. Who ever blames himself for failure? Or even if blaming himself, who does not suggest that he could have done much better if the tools had been more distinctly adapted to the service he had to accomplish? Our success in the great battles of life depends more upon spirit, intelligence, devotedness, and enthusiasm, than upon merely mechanical arrangements. What is a feeble instrument in the hands of one man is a mighty instrument in the hands of another, simply because the spirit of that other burns with holy determination to accomplish the work that has to be done. There is one thing which ought to be noticed with special care, the proper noticing of which will greatly enlarge the charitableness of our social judgments; namely, men should work with those instruments which they can handle most skilfully. Shamgar knew how to use the ox goad, and David knew how to use the sling and stone. Other instruments may be far heavier, keener, and likelier altogether, but if we are not accustomed to them why should we run the risk of a failure? Men are strong in proportion as they keep within the circle of their own tried ability and experience. The instrument may be the grandest in the world, but if we do not know how to handle it we can accomplish infinitely better results with instruments which expose themselves to the contempt of advanced civilisation. There are preachers who could do incalculable good if they would confine themselves to the subjects which they understand and to language which is spoken by the people whom they address. The moment such preachers begin to talk finely they lose all their ease and power, and stumble like men who are endeavouring to speak in a foreign tongue. How foolish it would be to ridicule the instrument when the results are so obviously good! Look at the six hundred dead men; look at the slain giant; look at the prostrate walls of Jericho. The rule applies to every department of life. Why set up some arbitrary standard of judgment when the results are open to scrutiny and estimate? This rule should be applied to preaching. Why say that the sermons are not skilfully proportioned or expressed according to the usages of the schools, and therefore are not valuable sermons, when sinners are being converted and believers are being edified through their instrumentality? Let the result determine everything. Whilst military critics might be unfavourably criticising the ox goad, Shamgar was standing rejoicingly over six hundred defeated foes. This is the best answer of the Church to unfriendly criticism. When souls are converted, when households are reconstructed, when lives are inspired and encouraged, when clouds of distress and fear are driven away, the Church may well point to such results and be stirred to multiplied efforts rather than be deterred by the criticism of men who pay more attention to instruments than to results. God hath chosen the weak things of this world to throw down the things that are mighty. We are not called upon to defend this divine method; it is enough for us to know that it is God's way, and to accept it and obey it with loving thankfulness. "Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts." "All this assembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord's." He who fights for the right has God upon his side. If God be for us, who can be against us? The army on the other side is but a multitude of shadows; one ray of light from the rising sun shall disperse the host of emptiness. What meaner instrument can there be than the Cross of Christ? Hath it not pleased God, by the foolishness of the thing that is preached, to save them that believe? Were not Peter and John accounted unlearned and ignorant men? Are not the highest; things hidden from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes? Such is the way of God, that no flesh should glory in his presence. All these thoughts are necessary to comfort the earnest worker against the pitiful criticism which is directed against Christian service. There are men so skilled in the use of bitter words that they might even discourage Shamgar himself by dwelling upon the ugliness and the unwieldiness of the weapon which he used. They might laugh him into a kind of shame. The thing to be done is to point men to the results which they have been enabled to secure, and to ask them to trust the instruments which have served them in good stead in the day of opposition and conflict. David said concerning the sword of Goliath— "Give me that; there is none like it." Do not easily give up tried methods, proved instruments, machineries and utilities which have been of service in the time of war. The same rule applies to trusty comradeships. We fight better in the society of some men than we could do in the society of others: we know their voices in the dark: we know their touch even when they do not say a word to us: we can depend upon them when the strain is greatest. New methods should be well studied in secret before they are tried in public, or they may bring their patrons to disappointment and chagrin. The Cross of Christ will stand when all things fail. Let us be determined to know nothing among men but Jesus Christ and him crucified. God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. Our speech and our preaching should not be with enticing words of man's wisdom but with demonstration of the Spirit and with power. The instrument indeed is mean enough. To the Jews it is a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness; nevertheless it works its daily miracles and finds in renewed hearts and brightened lives the only needful proof of its divinity and sanction. PrayerAlmighty God, thy word is full of love. It draws us towards thee with a sweet compulsion. It is a word of grace, of light, of pity, and tenderness. Thy word knows us; it is familiar with our nature, and all the mystery thereof, and it speaks to us in music, in thunder, in judgment, in sharp exhortation, and in tender consolation; it is in very deed a wondrous word, coming all the way from heaven, and yet touching our hearts as the light touches the flower. We bless thee for thy word, for thy house, and for everything that is specially thine. We know that all things are thine: but some things seem to be twice thine, specially and wholly thine— the Lord's Day, the Lord's Book, the Lord's Portion, the Lord's own Spirit Take not thy Holy Spirit from us! May it abide with us— a sun that never sets, a gracious presence that never tires, a gift that grows by giving. We bless thee for all the love we have seen in all the way of life. The way of life has been made beautiful by thy love; even the uphill parts have been rendered quite easy because of thy sustaining grace; and the winding ways and the dark valleys have not been so fearsome when we have come to them, because thou didst go before us and prepare a path. Thy comforts have been our strength; thy grace has been our sun and our shield, and we have good hope of heaven. We pray thee to regard us as sinners, and have pity upon us, yea, mercy— saving pity and redeeming mercy, such as we have seen in Christ Jesus thy Son, bleeding, dying, rising, praying for us. If thou hast freely delivered him up for us all, thou wilt with him also freely give us all things; so we shall have no necessity; we shall carry no burden, because, though the weight be great, the strength shall be more than equal to it. Let the whole year be a new year— new in thought, new in resolve, and new in sacrifice: thus shall the years not take away from our strength, but add to it, and make us younger as they fly, because bringing us nearer to the land where there is no sin, no death. Be this our good hope in Christ Jesus; in this hope may we stand together as Christian students and worshippers, growing in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. Let our prayer prevail in heaven; let us have the answer hidden in our heart, a secret treasure, a great, yea, an infinite prize. Amen. Deborah and Her Song Judges 4, Judges 5THE fourth and fifth chapters bring into view quite a host of secondary characters, such as Jabin and his chief captain, Sisera; Deborah and Barak; Heber, and Jael his wife; and in the great song of triumph and judgment names come and go with flashes of colour full of history and criticism. Sometimes we are told of a song that the words are nothing— the tune is everything. That may be a happy circumstance as regards some songs, but that criticism has no place in reference to the Song of Deborah; it is all words, all thoughts, all spiritual music. This song has in it something more than tune. If we do not know the words we shall never understand the music. Poor is the singing in which you cannot hear every word; it is then but a performance, it is but a vocal trick; we must hear every word, every syllable, every sentiment, and judge whether the music is worthy of the great intellectual conception. It is so with the Song of Deborah. We shall find in it words as well as tune. Jabin, king of Canaan, had held Israel in oppression twenty years. Jabin had resources which astounded people who lived in the hill country. Among the mountains chariots were no use; the bow and arrow were everything, but the chariot could not be driven over a craggy steep or unfathomable abyss. Jabin had nine hundred chariots of iron, and he made the plain of Esdraelon tremble as they rolled along. People who peeped down out of the crags, and saw the nine hundred chariots rolling in the plain of Jezreel, thought Jabin a mighty king, and obeyed his behest with meekest submission. Do not blame Jabin for oppressing the children of Israel twenty years. Jabin did not begin the oppression. Do not let us ruin ourselves by looking at second causes, and pouring out our denunciations upon the king of Hazor in Canaan. He, like many other poor kings, had nothing to do with it except instrumentally. There is but one King. It pleases us to call men kings and rulers, but there is only one sovereignty; the Lord reigneth, and there is room for none other; his throne fills the universe, and his kingdom ruleth over all. Jabin was an unconscious minister of God. Many men occupy that relation to Heaven who are not aware of it. The Lord has many servants at his threshold: he maketh the wrath of man to praise him; he finds music in strange places, and brings all kinds of instruments into the band that plays the music of his purpose. No doubt, Jabin thought himself a great man over Israel— lord and ruler and oppressor. Probably he counted Israel among his riches; in adding up his little store he put Israel down at a plain price, and said, "Israel is mine, and is worth so much in the coming and going of things." He did not know what he was talking about The reason why Jabin had anything to do with Israel was that Israel had done "evil in the sight of the Lord" (Judges 4:1). It is putting the case too lightly to say that Israel "did evil in the sight of the Lord." That might have been a first offence, and twenty years' penal servitude under a king without a harp, was a heavy sentence for a first violation. But we have missed the explanatory word. How often we do this in reading the Scriptures! How prone we are to leave out the key-word, and thus create confusion for ourselves! The text literally reads, "And the children of Israel again did evil in the sight of the Lord." How great the emphasis which ought to be laid upon the word "again"! It may not mean a second time or a third time; it may be the thousandth time for aught the word "again" says to the contrary. Israel did evil upon evil, as if building a black temple with black stones, and purposing to consecrate it to the service of the devil. Twenty years' servitude was a small penalty. God did not plead against Israel with his great power when he sentenced Israel to this period of oppression and sorrow. How readily we look at the oppression and forget the sin! This is characteristic of human nature. We pity the sorrow; we would even count the tears of human distress, and make a great number of them, and turn that number into a plea for Heaven's mercy. We are wrong. We have started the argument from the wrong end; the point of view is false; the perspective is out of line: the whole vision suffers from wrong drawing and colouring. We have nothing to do with the oppression. We must look at causes. We must say,— How did this come to pass? and in answering that inquiry we shall vindicate Eternal Providence, and justify the ways of God to men. We are moved more by the oppression than by the sin. That is a test of our own spiritual quality. Men are more frequently annoyed than they are wronged. Many men suffer more from an assault made upon their self-conceit than an assault made upon the proofs of eternal righteousness. Hence men resent what are termed personalities, whilst they look benignantly, if not approvingly, upon sin in the abstract— violated law that hurts the vanity of no man. All this is indicative of character. Here we see what Sin really is. It binds the sinner to his outrages against God; it endeavours to modify its own force and gravity, and it seeks to turn attention to outside matters, accidents, passing phases, and temporary troubles. Were we of God's mind and of Christ's heart we should dwell upon the evil, the evil twice done and twice repeated, and continued until it has become a custom— a custom so established that the repetition of it brings with it no new sensation. But we will look at accidents and circumstances, rather than probe into real causes, profound and true origins. A new period dawned in Israel. Deborah the wife of Lapidoth was judge. Great questions are settled by events. There was no inquiry as to whether it was meet that a woman should be a judge. Israel needed a mother, and Deborah was a mother in Israel. If we make questions of these subjects, we shall entertain one another with wordy controversies: but when the true Deborah comes, she comes of right, and sits a queen, without a word. There is a fitness of things— a subtle and unchangeable harmony— and when its conditions are satisfied, the satisfaction is attested by a great content of soul. As Deborah sat under her palm-tree in Mount Ephraim, no man said: Why are we judged by a woman? The answer was in her eyes: she looked divine; the vindication was in her judgment: when she spake, the spirit of wisdom seemed to approve every tone of her voice. There is a spirit in man: he knows when the right judge is upon the bench; the poorest listener can tell when he is in the presence of Justice; the unsophisticated heart knows when attempts are being made to quibble and wriggle and misrepresent, and to substitute the jingle of words for the music of righteousness. The people came up to the famous old palm-tree, and told their tale to Deborah day by day, until the motherly heart began to ache, and her trouble was very great. She saw, as motherly eyes only can see, how the wrinkles were deepening, how the faces were not so plump as they used to be, how strong men were bending under invisible burdens. She said: By the help of Heaven we will see more clearly into this. A hundred miles away in the north there lived a man, Barak by name— "Barak," which is, by interpretation, "the lightning"— and on Barak Deborah fixed her heart as on the hope of Israel. She sent for him; but he said No. She said in effect, You must come. But he said in reply, You do not know the case as a soldier knows it; Jabin has nine hundred chariots of iron, and the plain of Jezreel seems to have been made into a way on purpose for them to roll in; if it were Jabin only, I might attempt the task, but think of nine hundred chariots of iron! Deborah said, You must come, for the time has arrived; Heaven's hour of deliverance has struck; and I look to you to espouse the cause of Israel. Barak said, No, I cannot, except on one condition. Deborah said, Name your terms; what are they? Then replied Barak, My terms are that you go along with me. Instantly she said, I am ready to go. And Deborah, a mother in Israel, became the soldier of Israel, and Barak was her humble servant. The news soon spread. Sisera was on the alert. This was the very thing he had been longing for. When a man has nine hundred chariots of iron he wants something for them to do. Kings who have standing armies are bound to create occasions of war; hence the injustice, the turpitude, the hellishness of battle. Sisera was the chief captain, and the nine hundred chariots of iron were under his direction, and he said, Now Esdraelon shall tremble under this weight of iron, and Israel shall be crushed as a fly upon a wheel. "Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh" at them, and laugh again at their chariots, though they be iron in quality and nine hundred in number. The chariots of the Lord are twenty thousand, yea, thousand of thousands. The battle is the Lord's, not ours. But the Lord will not loose his chariots upon Jabin and his nine hundred curricles. There is a river on the field of battle, Kishon by name, quite a little silver threadlet in summer, but soon swollen by tributaries from the hills; and a river once getting charge of a plain makes swift work in its progress. The rains had fallen, all the hills seemed to pour out their treasures of water, the stream expanded, the water burst and flowed over the plain, and the nine hundred could not move. They were overcome by water! Kishon was more than all Jabin's iron host. Then came awful doings— men slaying one another. As for Sisera, the captain of all the iron chariots, he fled— ran away like a hound that had seen a tiger, and pantingly he came to a woman's tent, and said to Jael, the wife of Heber the Canaanite, Can you give me shelter? What are nine hundred chariots when the Lord is against them? What are all the chariots of the earth as against the sea? They could be sunk in the Atlantic, and the great ocean not know that they had descended to its depths. Jael said, Come in. And Sisera went in to come out no more. "The mother of Sisera looked out at a window, and cried through the lattice, Why is my son's chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?" At that moment Sisera was lying in the tent of Jael with an iron nail through his head. Sisera had chariots of iron— Jael had but one nail, but the hammer must have been God's. There is no defence of Jael's conduct. Viewed in the light of our morality, it was base in and out— bad, corrupt, horrible. As she walks softly, the softlier, the deadlier, and takes the nail and the hammer, she is the picture of incarnate depravity. This we say, unless there be some law which takes up all our laws and moves them into greater meanings through infinite orbits. There are greater laws that take up all our local movements and relations, and set them in new attitudes and invest them with new values; but of these laws we know nothing, and it is right that we should speak frankly about the ancient morality as represented in the action of Jael, and that Christian teachers should condemn it within the limits which are known to them. A woman began the war and a woman ended it, judging by the literal history. The inspiration of deliverance was a divine inspiration. Wherever there is a movement towards freedom, that movement began in heaven. Wherever any oppressed man, conscious of his sin and penitent for it, lifts himself up in an attitude of independence and looks his oppressor in the face with a calm determination to be free, there is a distinctively divine act. God is the God of liberty. He permits slavery or uses it, and may sanctify the use to higher issues and advantages; but beneath the oppression, below all the trouble, there is that spirit which is akin to his own, which asserts itself and says:— I cannot always live under this cloud, or carry this weary load; I will be free. When such a word is spoken reverently, solemnly, honestly, it is neither more nor less than the living voice of the living God. Now Deborah sings. She seems almost to excel Moses in song. There is hardly such a piece of composition in all known literature. It has everything in it. This is a manifold song. Some persons have points of power, individual faculties of notable strength; but this woman seems to have all human faculties, and all human faculties in their largest proportions. She praises the people for their willing offering of themselves (Judges 5:2). She recognised the spontaneous action of the people; they wanted to be free. She also regards kings as occupying a subordinate position:— "Hear, O ye kings; give ear, O ye princes" (Judges 5:3). They had to receive the news, not to create the event; they had to hear of it next day, not to plan it the day before. Who can tell the ways of Providence? God setteth up the poor amongst princes, he plungeth the princes down into meanest places; the first shall be last, and the last shall be first God shall have the record and the register written, and rewritten and redistributed, so there shall be no vanity in Israel, no conceit in the hosts of Christ. There is, too, a tone of judgment in the song. Deborah could not forget who had forsaken her on the day of trial. She said: Reuben was not there— "For the divisions of Reuben there were great thoughts of heart." Reuben abode among the sheepfolds, and listened to the bleating of the flocks, and let the woman go out alone to fight the chariots of Jabin. "For the divisions of Reuben there were great searchings of heart." Gilead was not with me; he "abode beyond Jordan": Dan was not with me; he "remained in ships": Asher got behind the creeks and the crags, and peeped out, and then withdrew: "Zebulun and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives unto the death in the high places of the field." So Deborah makes mention of severe troubles even in the roll of her triumphal song. She did not confuse things. She was not so lost in enthusiasm and transport, as to forget whether Reuben was present, and Gilead and Dan; nor did she neglect Zebulun and Naphtali. This woman's song is reason set to music, judgment in rapture— yea, say in rhapsody, but judgment still, awarding to the good that which is good, to the evil that which they deserve, and thus setting forth in song a picture of the ultimate and final judgment. Meroz was cursed even in song. Why? Meroz was in the heart of the country; Meroz might have struck the first blow, and Meroz did nothing:— "Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty." The Lord might have been torn to pieces for aught that Meroz did. The winding up of all things shall be a great song, a triumphant burst of music; but moral distinctions will not be forgotten in those jubilant strains. Then it will be known who did his duty, who remained at home, who was content with criticism, and who hazarded his life that his Christ might be made more widely known. Selected Note The song of triumph which was composed in consequence of the great victory over Sisera, is said to have been "sung by Deborah and Barak." It is usually regarded as the composition of Deborah, and was probably indited by her to be sung on the return of Barak and his warriors from the pursuit. Deborah, the prophetess, was wife of Lapidoth. She dwelt, probably, in a tent, under a well-known palm-tree, between Ramah and Bethel, where she judged Israel (Judges 4:4-5). This probably means that she was the organ of communication between God and his people, and probably on account of the influence and authority of her character, was accounted in some sort as the head of the nation, to whom questions of doubt and difficulty were referred for decision. In her triumphal song she says:— Prayer Almighty God, we would rest in thee. Thou hast welcomed us to thy rest, and made us, in promise, sharers of thy feast. The Lord will bless his people with peace, yea, with peace that passeth understanding. Thou dost cause men to possess their souls in peace and confidence when they look unto the Lord and set their expectation eagerly upon him. We have said unto our souls, Look unto the hills whence cometh your help: your help cometh from the Lord which made heaven and earth. Thus the heaven and the earth have become images to us of thy greatness, wisdom, goodness, and continual superintendence; and thus through heaven and earth we have found the living God who made them both. All things tell of thy power, and all things sing of thy love. Why should man be silent? His should be the loudest, sweetest voice of all. Let the people praise thee, O God; yea, let all the people praise thee; let the time of silence now past more than suffice, and let the time of singing, and rejoicing, and testifying, come in upon us like a new year. Truly thy mercies deserve our songs. We will sing of mercy, and of judgment: for is not thy judgment a mercy? and is not thy mercy a judgment? art thou not continually looking upon us through the cloud, and blessing us every day with sunlight? We would join the innumerable company of angels in praising God. We would think of the great host in heavenly places joining the hymn of adoration and thankfulness; we would unite in the great and solemn praise, and be as glad as earth will permit its children to be amid its night and winter and cold. We praise thee for a day that is all thine own: the four-and-twenty hours are four-and-twenty jewels; we bless thee for a house that is all thine own, built upon a sure foundation, rearing itself towards heaven, excluding all profanity, offering hospitality to all necessity; and we bless thee for a book that is all thine own, written as it were with thine own finger, having in it gospels from heaven infinite as the love of God and grand as his glory: may we have the seeing eye, the understanding heart, that, beholding the writing we may comprehend the meaning, and then proceed to live it over again in useful and happy life. We desire that our religious aspirations may grow in number, in intensity, in loftiness; may our whole character be lifted up by their energy, so that our citizenship may be no longer upon earth, but already in heaven. Thy care of us, who can doubt? The very hairs of our head are all numbered. If for a moment we distrust thee, it is that we may pray some nobler prayer, because of contrition and the heart-break of penitent sorrow; if we have turned from the Lord, we will come back again, renewed, stronger than ever in faith, tenderer than ever in love. Oh heal our backslidings, and love us freely. Thou knowest our life, for thou didst make it. We do not know what it is. We suffer it, and are afraid of it; for a moment we enjoy it, as we might enjoy an angel's presence, but all our joy is troubled by a distant and speechless fear, and we say, This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven; and our pulse is as the beat of God's eternity within us. Help us through our life to know somewhat of thine; enable us to know through our hearts somewhat of God's love: then shall our life be profitable, and shall help itself to higher uses because to higher devotion. We pray for one another. The Lord's blessing be upon us every one. Thou hast a portion of meat for each in thy house; thou wilt not send any empty away; if our hunger is great, thy resources are greater still. Blessed are they that hunger: behold, our very necessity is turned into a blessing; our capacity to receive is the measure of our capacity to enjoy. O that we might praise the Lord every day— that we might know that all our time may become sabbatic, restful— a period of peace, an anticipation of everlasting tranquillity! Help us to live out the few more days that remain: they come and go so quickly we can hardly number them; between the sunrise and the sunset there is so brief a time, hardly an opportunity to breathe. May we know the measure of our days, and knowing that, may we redeem the time, buying up every opportunity eagerly, and using it as a trust from heaven. Guide all who need special guidance. Show men where the lock is they cannot find, and when they have found it and cannot open it, put the key into their hands. Send light upon those whose way is wrapped in darkness. Speak a word in season to him that is weary; show the weeper that his tears are but for a time and may be the precursors of joy. Help those who are called to carry the burdens of others, who think about them until they are weary— until their wonder becomes a distress, and their solicitude an intolerable pain. We pray for those in trouble on the sea. We pray for those in trouble because of bodily weakness. We pray that in houses where Sorrow has long been the one guest he may this day flee away. As for our sin, we bring it to the cross: the blood of Jesus Christ is the answer of God to the sin of man. Help us to believe in Jesus, to trust in the Son of God, to give up all hope in ourselves, and to find all satisfaction in Christ. Amen. Deborah and Her Song Judges 4, Judges 5THE fourth and fifth chapters bring into view quite a host of secondary characters, such as Jabin and his chief captain, Sisera; Deborah and Barak; Heber, and Jael his wife; and in the great song of triumph and judgment names come and go with flashes of colour full of history and criticism. Sometimes we are told of a song that the words are nothing— the tune is everything. That may be a happy circumstance as regards some songs, but that criticism has no place in reference to the Song of Deborah; it is all words, all thoughts, all spiritual music. This song has in it something more than tune. If we do not know the words we shall never understand the music. Poor is the singing in which you cannot hear every word; it is then but a performance, it is but a vocal trick; we must hear every word, every syllable, every sentiment, and judge whether the music is worthy of the great intellectual conception. It is so with the Song of Deborah. We shall find in it words as well as tune. Jabin, king of Canaan, had held Israel in oppression twenty years. Jabin had resources which astounded people who lived in the hill country. Among the mountains chariots were no use; the bow and arrow were everything, but the chariot could not be driven over a craggy steep or unfathomable abyss. Jabin had nine hundred chariots of iron, and he made the plain of Esdraelon tremble as they rolled along. People who peeped down out of the crags, and saw the nine hundred chariots rolling in the plain of Jezreel, thought Jabin a mighty king, and obeyed his behest with meekest submission. Do not blame Jabin for oppressing the children of Israel twenty years. Jabin did not begin the oppression. Do not let us ruin ourselves by looking at second causes, and pouring out our denunciations upon the king of Hazor in Canaan. He, like many other poor kings, had nothing to do with it except instrumentally. There is but one King. It pleases us to call men kings and rulers, but there is only one sovereignty; the Lord reigneth, and there is room for none other; his throne fills the universe, and his kingdom ruleth over all. Jabin was an unconscious minister of God. Many men occupy that relation to Heaven who are not aware of it. The Lord has many servants at his threshold: he maketh the wrath of man to praise him; he finds music in strange places, and brings all kinds of instruments into the band that plays the music of his purpose. No doubt, Jabin thought himself a great man over Israel— lord and ruler and oppressor. Probably he counted Israel among his riches; in adding up his little store he put Israel down at a plain price, and said, "Israel is mine, and is worth so much in the coming and going of things." He did not know what he was talking about The reason why Jabin had anything to do with Israel was that Israel had done "evil in the sight of the Lord" (Judges 4:1). It is putting the case too lightly to say that Israel "did evil in the sight of the Lord." That might have been a first offence, and twenty years' penal servitude under a king without a harp, was a heavy sentence for a first violation. But we have missed the explanatory word. How often we do this in reading the Scriptures! How prone we are to leave out the key-word, and thus create confusion for ourselves! The text literally reads, "And the children of Israel again did evil in the sight of the Lord." How great the emphasis which ought to be laid upon the word "again"! It may not mean a second time or a third time; it may be the thousandth time for aught the word "again" says to the contrary. Israel did evil upon evil, as if building a black temple with black stones, and purposing to consecrate it to the service of the devil. Twenty years' servitude was a small penalty. God did not plead against Israel with his great power when he sentenced Israel to this period of oppression and sorrow. How readily we look at the oppression and forget the sin! This is characteristic of human nature. We pity the sorrow; we would even count the tears of human distress, and make a great number of them, and turn that number into a plea for Heaven's mercy. We are wrong. We have started the argument from the wrong end; the point of view is false; the perspective is out of line: the whole vision suffers from wrong drawing and colouring. We have nothing to do with the oppression. We must look at causes. We must say,— How did this come to pass? and in answering that inquiry we shall vindicate Eternal Providence, and justify the ways of God to men. We are moved more by the oppression than by the sin. That is a test of our own spiritual quality. Men are more frequently annoyed than they are wronged. Many men suffer more from an assault made upon their self-conceit than an assault made upon the proofs of eternal righteousness. Hence men resent what are termed personalities, whilst they look benignantly, if not approvingly, upon sin in the abstract— violated law that hurts the vanity of no man. All this is indicative of character. Here we see what Sin really is. It binds the sinner to his outrages against God; it endeavours to modify its own force and gravity, and it seeks to turn attention to outside matters, accidents, passing phases, and temporary troubles. Were we of God's mind and of Christ's heart we should dwell upon the evil, the evil twice done and twice repeated, and continued until it has become a custom— a custom so established that the repetition of it brings with it no new sensation. But we will look at accidents and circumstances, rather than probe into real causes, profound and true origins. A new period dawned in Israel. Deborah the wife of Lapidoth was judge. Great questions are settled by events. There was no inquiry as to whether it was meet that a woman should be a judge. Israel needed a mother, and Deborah was a mother in Israel. If we make questions of these subjects, we shall entertain one another with wordy controversies: but when the true Deborah comes, she comes of right, and sits a queen, without a word. There is a fitness of things— a subtle and unchangeable harmony— and when its conditions are satisfied, the satisfaction is attested by a great content of soul. As Deborah sat under her palm-tree in Mount Ephraim, no man said: Why are we judged by a woman? The answer was in her eyes: she looked divine; the vindication was in her judgment: when she spake, the spirit of wisdom seemed to approve every tone of her voice. There is a spirit in man: he knows when the right judge is upon the bench; the poorest listener can tell when he is in the presence of Justice; the unsophisticated heart knows when attempts are being made to quibble and wriggle and misrepresent, and to substitute the jingle of words for the music of righteousness. The people came up to the famous old palm-tree, and told their tale to Deborah day by day, until the motherly heart began to ache, and her trouble was very great. She saw, as motherly eyes only can see, how the wrinkles were deepening, how the faces were not so plump as they used to be, how strong men were bending under invisible burdens. She said: By the help of Heaven we will see more clearly into this. A hundred miles away in the north there lived a man, Barak by name— "Barak," which is, by interpretation, "the lightning"— and on Barak Deborah fixed her heart as on the hope of Israel. She sent for him; but he said No. She said in effect, You must come. But he said in reply, You do not know the case as a soldier knows it; Jabin has nine hundred chariots of iron, and the plain of Jezreel seems to have been made into a way on purpose for them to roll in; if it were Jabin only, I might attempt the task, but think of nine hundred chariots of iron! Deborah said, You must come, for the time has arrived; Heaven's hour of deliverance has struck; and I look to you to espouse the cause of Israel. Barak said, No, I cannot, except on one condition. Deborah said, Name your terms; what are they? Then replied Barak, My terms are that you go along with me. Instantly she said, I am ready to go. And Deborah, a mother in Israel, became the soldier of Israel, and Barak was her humble servant. The news soon spread. Sisera was on the alert. This was the very thing he had been longing for. When a man has nine hundred chariots of iron he wants something for them to do. Kings who have standing armies are bound to create occasions of war; hence the injustice, the turpitude, the hellishness of battle. Sisera was the chief captain, and the nine hundred chariots of iron were under his direction, and he said, Now Esdraelon shall tremble under this weight of iron, and Israel shall be crushed as a fly upon a wheel. "Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh" at them, and laugh again at their chariots, though they be iron in quality and nine hundred in number. The chariots of the Lord are twenty thousand, yea, thousand of thousands. The battle is the Lord's, not ours. But the Lord will not loose his chariots upon Jabin and his nine hundred curricles. There is a river on the field of battle, Kishon by name, quite a little silver threadlet in summer, but soon swollen by tributaries from the hills; and a river once getting charge of a plain makes swift work in its progress. The rains had fallen, all the hills seemed to pour out their treasures of water, the stream expanded, the water burst and flowed over the plain, and the nine hundred could not move. They were overcome by water! Kishon was more than all Jabin's iron host. Then came awful doings— men slaying one another. As for Sisera, the captain of all the iron chariots, he fled— ran away like a hound that had seen a tiger, and pantingly he came to a woman's tent, and said to Jael, the wife of Heber the Canaanite, Can you give me shelter? What are nine hundred chariots when the Lord is against them? What are all the chariots of the earth as against the sea? They could be sunk in the Atlantic, and the great ocean not know that they had descended to its depths. Jael said, Come in. And Sisera went in to come out no more. "The mother of Sisera looked out at a window, and cried through the lattice, Why is my son's chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?" At that moment Sisera was lying in the tent of Jael with an iron nail through his head. Sisera had chariots of iron— Jael had but one nail, but the hammer must have been God's. There is no defence of Jael's conduct. Viewed in the light of our morality, it was base in and out— bad, corrupt, horrible. As she walks softly, the softlier, the deadlier, and takes the nail and the hammer, she is the picture of incarnate depravity. This we say, unless there be some law which takes up all our laws and moves them into greater meanings through infinite orbits. There are greater laws that take up all our local movements and relations, and set them in new attitudes and invest them with new values; but of these laws we know nothing, and it is right that we should speak frankly about the ancient morality as represented in the action of Jael, and that Christian teachers should condemn it within the limits which are known to them. A woman began the war and a woman ended it, judging by the literal history. The inspiration of deliverance was a divine inspiration. Wherever there is a movement towards freedom, that movement began in heaven. Wherever any oppressed man, conscious of his sin and penitent for it, lifts himself up in an attitude of independence and looks his oppressor in the face with a calm determination to be free, there is a distinctively divine act. God is the God of liberty. He permits slavery or uses it, and may sanctify the use to higher issues and advantages; but beneath the oppression, below all the trouble, there is that spirit which is akin to his own, which asserts itself and says:— I cannot always live under this cloud, or carry this weary load; I will be free. When such a word is spoken reverently, solemnly, honestly, it is neither more nor less than the living voice of the living God. Now Deborah sings. She seems almost to excel Moses in song. There is hardly such a piece of composition in all known literature. It has everything in it. This is a manifold song. Some persons have points of power, individual faculties of notable strength; but this woman seems to have all human faculties, and all human faculties in their largest proportions. She praises the people for their willing offering of themselves (Judges 5:2). She recognised the spontaneous action of the people; they wanted to be free. She also regards kings as occupying a subordinate position:— "Hear, O ye kings; give ear, O ye princes" (Judges 5:3). They had to receive the news, not to create the event; they had to hear of it next day, not to plan it the day before. Who can tell the ways of Providence? God setteth up the poor amongst princes, he plungeth the princes down into meanest places; the first shall be last, and the last shall be first God shall have the record and the register written, and rewritten and redistributed, so there shall be no vanity in Israel, no conceit in the hosts of Christ. There is, too, a tone of judgment in the song. Deborah could not forget who had forsaken her on the day of trial. She said: Reuben was not there— "For the divisions of Reuben there were great thoughts of heart." Reuben abode among the sheepfolds, and listened to the bleating of the flocks, and let the woman go out alone to fight the chariots of Jabin. "For the divisions of Reuben there were great searchings of heart." Gilead was not with me; he "abode beyond Jordan": Dan was not with me; he "remained in ships": Asher got behind the creeks and the crags, and peeped out, and then withdrew: "Zebulun and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives unto the death in the high places of the field." So Deborah makes mention of severe troubles even in the roll of her triumphal song. She did not confuse things. She was not so lost in enthusiasm and transport, as to forget whether Reuben was present, and Gilead and Dan; nor did she neglect Zebulun and Naphtali. This woman's song is reason set to music, judgment in rapture— yea, say in rhapsody, but judgment still, awarding to the good that which is good, to the evil that which they deserve, and thus setting forth in song a picture of the ultimate and final judgment. Meroz was cursed even in song. Why? Meroz was in the heart of the country; Meroz might have struck the first blow, and Meroz did nothing:— "Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty." The Lord might have been torn to pieces for aught that Meroz did. The winding up of all things shall be a great song, a triumphant burst of music; but moral distinctions will not be forgotten in those jubilant strains. Then it will be known who did his duty, who remained at home, who was content with criticism, and who hazarded his life that his Christ might be made more widely known. Selected Note The song of triumph which was composed in consequence of the great victory over Sisera, is said to have been "sung by Deborah and Barak." It is usually regarded as the composition of Deborah, and was probably indited by her to be sung on the return of Barak and his warriors from the pursuit. Deborah, the prophetess, was wife of Lapidoth. She dwelt, probably, in a tent, under a well-known palm-tree, between Ramah and Bethel, where she judged Israel (Judges 4:4-5). This probably means that she was the organ of communication between God and his people, and probably on account of the influence and authority of her character, was accounted in some sort as the head of the nation, to whom questions of doubt and difficulty were referred for decision. In her triumphal song she says:— Prayer Almighty God, we would rest in thee. Thou hast welcomed us to thy rest, and made us, in promise, sharers of thy feast. The Lord will bless his people with peace, yea, with peace that passeth understanding. Thou dost cause men to possess their souls in peace and confidence when they look unto the Lord and set their expectation eagerly upon him. We have said unto our souls, Look unto the hills whence cometh your help: your help cometh from the Lord which made heaven and earth. Thus the heaven and the earth have become images to us of thy greatness, wisdom, goodness, and continual superintendence; and thus through heaven and earth we have found the living God who made them both. All things tell of thy power, and all things sing of thy love. Why should man be silent? His should be the loudest, sweetest voice of all. Let the people praise thee, O God; yea, let all the people praise thee; let the time of silence now past more than suffice, and let the time of singing, and rejoicing, and testifying, come in upon us like a new year. Truly thy mercies deserve our songs. We will sing of mercy, and of judgment: for is not thy judgment a mercy? and is not thy mercy a judgment? art thou not continually looking upon us through the cloud, and blessing us every day with sunlight? We would join the innumerable company of angels in praising God. We would think of the great host in heavenly places joining the hymn of adoration and thankfulness; we would unite in the great and solemn praise, and be as glad as earth will permit its children to be amid its night and winter and cold. We praise thee for a day that is all thine own: the four-and-twenty hours are four-and-twenty jewels; we bless thee for a house that is all thine own, built upon a sure foundation, rearing itself towards heaven, excluding all profanity, offering hospitality to all necessity; and we bless thee for a book that is all thine own, written as it were with thine own finger, having in it gospels from heaven infinite as the love of God and grand as his glory: may we have the seeing eye, the understanding heart, that, beholding the writing we may comprehend the meaning, and then proceed to live it over again in useful and happy life. We desire that our religious aspirations may grow in number, in intensity, in loftiness; may our whole character be lifted up by their energy, so that our citizenship may be no longer upon earth, but already in heaven. Thy care of us, who can doubt? The very hairs of our head are all numbered. If for a moment we distrust thee, it is that we may pray some nobler prayer, because of contrition and the heart-break of penitent sorrow; if we have turned from the Lord, we will come back again, renewed, stronger than ever in faith, tenderer than ever in love. Oh heal our backslidings, and love us freely. Thou knowest our life, for thou didst make it. We do not know what it is. We suffer it, and are afraid of it; for a moment we enjoy it, as we might enjoy an angel's presence, but all our joy is troubled by a distant and speechless fear, and we say, This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven; and our pulse is as the beat of God's eternity within us. Help us through our life to know somewhat of thine; enable us to know through our hearts somewhat of God's love: then shall our life be profitable, and shall help itself to higher uses because to higher devotion. We pray for one another. The Lord's blessing be upon us every one. Thou hast a portion of meat for each in thy house; thou wilt not send any empty away; if our hunger is great, thy resources are greater still. Blessed are they that hunger: behold, our very necessity is turned into a blessing; our capacity to receive is the measure of our capacity to enjoy. O that we might praise the Lord every day— that we might know that all our time may become sabbatic, restful— a period of peace, an anticipation of everlasting tranquillity! Help us to live out the few more days that remain: they come and go so quickly we can hardly number them; between the sunrise and the sunset there is so brief a time, hardly an opportunity to breathe. May we know the measure of our days, and knowing that, may we redeem the time, buying up every opportunity eagerly, and using it as a trust from heaven. Guide all who need special guidance. Show men where the lock is they cannot find, and when they have found it and cannot open it, put the key into their hands. Send light upon those whose way is wrapped in darkness. Speak a word in season to him that is weary; show the weeper that his tears are but for a time and may be the precursors of joy. Help those who are called to carry the burdens of others, who think about them until they are weary— until their wonder becomes a distress, and their solicitude an intolerable pain. We pray for those in trouble on the sea. We pray for those in trouble because of bodily weakness. We pray that in houses where Sorrow has long been the one guest he may this day flee away. As for our sin, we bring it to the cross: the blood of Jesus Christ is the answer of God to the sin of man. Help us to believe in Jesus, to trust in the Son of God, to give up all hope in ourselves, and to find all satisfaction in Christ. Amen. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"A mother in Israel."—Judges 5:7. We need the womanly element in the Church.— The mother is the soul of the family.— We cannot live upon hard law and severe discipline; there must always be a tender element in our education, for we are weak, and need the ministry of compassion and love.— We speak much about the fathers of the Church, and the fathers of the nation, and are apt to forget that the "mothers in Israel" have often been more heroic than the fathers, and that their very gentleness has become their strength in time of danger.— Whilst discouraging some aspects of what are termed sisterhoods, and whilst deprecating what is known as the worship of the Virgin Mother, we should seek for the truth which underlies all this womanly ministry.— Many could serve the Church by miracles of love, patience, compassion, and encouragement, whose voice could never be heard on public questions.— Every woman can at least be "a mother in Israel" within the limits of her own family.— She is not called upon to be a theologian, a scholar, a pedant, a source of alarm to the ignorant and the incompetent, but she is called upon to be compassionate, sympathetic, and encouraging.— It is a mistake to suppose that the Church is either a drill-ground or a school alone.— It is a house, a home, a nursery; it is a place of healing, education, and comfort; many a strong man would be the better if to all his strength he added a touch of tenderness.— Beautiful is the service of mothers in the Church of Christ.— They can speak with an influence all their own, absolutely indisputable, even by the most learned and eloquent men.— They know how to whisper to sorrow, how to touch weakness without burdening it, how to speak a word in season to him that is weary.— All womanly influence in the Church and in the family should be abundantly and gratefully encouraged. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"There were great searchings of heart."—Judges 5:16. These searchings are always wanted.— We gain in solidity by such scrutiny.— It is impossible to live long and satisfactorily upon mere appearances, or upon vain hopes that all will turn out right at the last.— There is a great lack of heart-work in the Church and in the individual.— We are to search into causes of absence from the field of danger, of abatement of zeal and enthusiasm, and of every form of unbelief.— The great court of inquiry is the heart rather than the intellect.— We can never get at foundations and realities until we have pierced the region of motive, the region of secret and unconfessed purpose.— We should judge others less than we judge ourselves.— Let every man put to himself the penetrating question, What have I done, or what have I left undone; and why is the case so, either on the one side or the other?— Let there be no fault-finding with other people; let there be no self-sparing.— Force the question to its uttermost extent, and be severer with yourself than with other men.— All this may mean bitterness, pain, disappointment, and shame, but in the long run it will mean healing, inspiration, strength, and renewed encouragement. "If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins."— If we say we have no sin, we are liars.— Our sins are transgressions of the heart, and until the heart itself is cleansed the hands never can be pure.— Let every man examine himself.— Let every man hold the candle of the Lord over the secrets of his heart. Gideon Judges 6-8AT the close of the song of Deborah "the land had rest forty years." The sixth chapter begins with the usual black line:— "And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord." These comings and goings of evil in human history seem to be fated. Men never get so clear away from evil as never to come back again to it; at any moment the course of life may be reversed, and the altar, the vow, the song, and the prayer may be forgotten like vanished summers. This makes the reading of human history a weary toil. We have only to turn over a leaf, and the saints who have been singing are as active as ever in evil. It would be difficult to believe this if we did not know it to be true. This Bible-history is indeed our own history written before the time. Our life seems to be spent upon a short ladder, in going up, in coming down: in going up to pray, in coming down to sin, and drying the tears of penitence; and climbing again, and then coming down; miles short of heaven. The weariness is not in the literature— it is in the fact. We are many men: when we would do good, evil is present with us; when we would do evil, the angel looks at us and reproaches our purpose. The history of Israel is the history of the world. Israel was given over to the hand of the Midianites seven years. This was not, as in the former case, an oppression; it was an attack. In our last study we saw Israel oppressed; here we see a foreign invasion, crowding upon the land inhabited by Israel. Whether in this way or in that, God will not let the battle end until he has punished evil and destroyed it. He is continuing the same policy now. Seated in the heavens, he is watching the earth as if it were the only world he had,— blessing the good, punishing the evil, threatening everything that is of another nature than his own, and keeping perdition for those only who must inevitably be lost. In the olden times there were oppressions, invasions, assaults, and the like; today Providence seems to be operating by subtler methods, but always operating to the same end: to punish the evil, and bless the good. A very vivid picture is given of the state of Israel in chapter Judges 6:2. Israel was dwelling in "the dens which are in the mountains, and caves, and strong holds." The proud and princely Israel was burrowing in the torrent gullies, instead of building cities that should have lifted their towers and spires like ascending psalms to the approving heavens. Think of it well! It is the same today. Men who might have been in the thoroughfare are hidden away in some distressing obscurity. Men who ought to have been foremost are left so far behind they can hardly be seen,— dim spectres in the far-away distance. The Midianites were coming up like locusts. No sooner did the Israelites sow their seed than the Midianites had their eye upon it; and it was only by strategy, cunning almost surpassingly human, that Israel could save a handful of corn for itself. Israel was "impoverished." A very remarkable word is that. It means that they were like a door swinging on broken hinges. Israel, the redeemed people, Israel without whom there might have been no history, Israel had so sinned as to be at last like a door swinging on hinges that were broken: the door could not be shut, the door was no security, the door was a perpetual irony, yea, a daily reproach and taunt. There is a poverty that is the result of what we call misfortune; that is to be pitied and to be assisted: there is a poverty that is only the social and punitive side of sin; that is to be recognised as such— a black blot on the snow of God's holiness, a sad brand on the righteousness of things. Or the figure may be changed, for it is a double one. Israel was like a sear leaf, just hanging by one frail thread to the branch, all the juice gone, all the beautiful green dead for ever, all possibility of fruitfulness exhausted; and there hung great Israel, a leaf— sear, yellow, dead, just hanging to drop! We must realise this condition of things before we can understand the arduousness of the mission of Gideon. If we do not understand the situation we cannot understand Gideon's distress, hesitation, hopelessness. The times were out of joint. All things beautiful were dead. The whole time was given over to idolatry. There was but one man who kept to the true faith, and he seemed to worship in secret; he alone was not swallowed up in the great idolatrous passion; his father had gone religiously astray, but he himself still thought of old histories, and had in him flickering, but, oh, quite dyingly, some hope of returning faith. Then came the inevitable "cry ":— "The children of Israel cried unto the Lord" (Judges 6:6). It was a mean prayer. Some cries must not be answered; they are unworthy screams or utterances of selfish desire. The Lord will not be too critical about these "cries," for who then could stand before him and hope for any thing from his hand? What prayer is there worth being heard, not to say worth being answered? Search it, probe it, and what is it but religious selfishness— a plea for self? But men must pray as best they can. We cannot expect perfect prayers from imperfect men. In the cry there may be something which God can hear to which he will make response. But prayers are not answered, because they are not prayers; they are self-excuses, self-pleadings, desires inspired by selfishness: so they are narrow, shortsighted, out of the rhythm of the music of the universe, notes that cannot be smoothed into the general utterance of the divine purpose; they may do the suppliant good by heightening his veneration or exciting within him some inexpressible desires, but as words they fall back again like birds whose wings have been broken. Israel cried unto the Lord. What was the divine answer to that cry? It was a prophet. Jewish legend says it was Phinehas, son of Eleazar. The prayer was answered by a man:— "The Lord sent a prophet unto the children of Israel" (Judges 6:8). A "prophet" is a teacher, a man who sees the largest relations of things, one who lives above the cloud and can see what is going on underneath it; a seer, a man of penetrating vision, a man whose eyes are within, and from whom God has hidden nothing of wisdom, grace, purpose, and issue. The age must be prepared for its prophets. When the age is haughty, self-contented, self-idolatrous, prophets go for nothing; they are the object of sneering remark; they may be caricatured, they may be turned into food for merriment; but when the age becomes like a door swinging on broken hinges, or like a sear and yellow leaf when all hope has died out of it, then men ask if there be not a prophet, or one who can pray— a seer who can penetrate beyond appearances and discover germs of life or hints of hope? It was so now. The prophet came, and delivered a judicial speech:— "Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, I brought you up from Egypt, and brought you forth out of the house of bondage; and I delivered you out of the hand of the Egyptians, and out of the hand of all that oppressed you, and drave them out from before you, and gave you their land; and I said unto you, I am the Lord your God; fear not the gods of the Amorites [the Amorites were the highlanders of Palestine, and as they were the strongest of all the Canaanitish tribes they are often spoken of as representing or including the whole of them], in whose land ye dwell: but ye have not obeyed my voice" (Judges 6:8-10). Here you find a reminder,— that is to say, a reference to history. Memory was awakened and turned upon the days that had gone, God works through recollection. Marvellous are the miracles which God works by the power of memory: memory goes back, and brings to mind things forgotten, uses them in the light of today, observes their action upon the circumstances which make up the immediate present; and oftentimes a man needs no hotter hell than an awakened and stimulated memory. The recollection was followed by a reproof:— "But ye have not obeyed my voice," saying in effect: I have not changed; I was continuing the line; my purpose was one of deliverance and success and honour for Israel, but ye failed in obedience: first you became reluctant, hesitant, then weary, then you complained of monotony, then you said the yoke galled your shoulders, then you fell clean away, then you built Asherah and worshipped Baal; this is the reason of all that has come upon you; blame yourselves: for men who fall away from the road of obedience fail of the heaven of blessedness. All this is intelligible. We have been accustomed to these reminding and accusing voices ourselves, and we do not hear in them anything that startles our reason or taxes our faith. Now the prophet is succeeded by an angel. A most mysterious instance occurs, challenging our faith in its loftiest moods. Gideon was threshing wheat by the winepress, to hide it from the Midianites. He was in a little sheltered corner, not daring to use a flail, perhaps, lest the beat of it should attract the attention of some listening Midianite; Gideon was almost rubbing the wheat between his hands. He was in a little cave rather than in a winepress, which is hardly the literal translation. He was in a corner by himself, rubbing out the wheat which he had industriously sown, painfully watched, and honestly gathered. It was weary work for Gideon. He felt that he was a prisoner, almost stealing his own bread. This is not unknown to ourselves. Men sometimes have to hide their food from their own relations. Some men dare not even seem to be prosperous, because they know what havoc would be wrought by those who have been watching their honourable and successful labours. Men sometimes have to hide themselves from their own flesh, and to rub out their little handful of wheat behind some sheltering crag. Some men are bound to look poor, because they know they would be fleeced and robbed. Is that not strictly according to our own personal experience? This is the picture presented by the position and action of Gideon [hewer]: a hidden man, doing an honest work in the quietest possible way, only thankful if he can get his wheat turned into bread to satisfy his hunger. Watch Gideon, the one religious man of the place and time. If any one were to come from heaven now, he would come to Gideon. Like descends upon like. "And there came an angel of the Lord, and sat under an oak which was in Ophrah [in Western Manasseh], that pertaineth unto Joash the Abi-ezrite." For a time the angel was silent. How will he speak to a weary man? He will say to him: Poor laden one, this is sad work for Israel; poor weary Gideon, I am sorry for thee in my heart; Gideon, thou shouldst have been out in the open air swinging thy flail and separating the chaff from the wheat right cheerfully and hopefully— poor Gideon! Such sympathy would have overborne the man; it would have been the one drop that would have made the cup of his sorrow overflow. No, there must be sharp reaction; a note must be struck that will awaken the man wholly: he must not continue his dream-trouble, he must have his sleep driven away. What said the angel? "The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour." The speech seemed to be ironical. Gideon had about him the look as to weariness of a man who was exhausted. But he was a king, and he had a kingly presence, a face that only needed to be awakened to answer the angel's own in the likeness of kinship. There was no fairer man than Gideon in all the land; the make of him was a miracle of God. When he stretched himself right out to his full compass and looked his best self, one could understand how it was that he had "faithful among the faithless been," and had kept Jehovah's altar even amid the riot of the Baal-worshippers. Who shall say there is no kinship between angels and men? Who has wisdom enough to declare that there is no connection between the spiritual life or lives of the universe? It is not only a higher faith but a nobler reason which would say: All we, men, women, children, angels, spirits of the blessed, are one, warmed with one fire, radiant with one glory, expectant of one destiny. We cannot settle anything about this angel that is definite and final. What do we know that is at all of the nature of counterpart? We know something about unexpected meetings, strangers speaking to us, and yet so speaking that we know them,— speaking to us in our mother tongue, speaking to us words which we have wanted to hear but dare scarcely speak to ourselves; people making beginnings which have had happy endings;— that we know right well. We know something of unforeseen opportunities: the cloud has suddenly opened, and we have seen where we were. Clouds often do open quite suddenly. We have seen the mariner watching for the sun for days: the mariner is ready, his glass is in his hand; if there be but one little rift in that great cloud, he will avail himself of the opportunity to know where the sun is that he may know where his ship is. A rift has come, a sudden chance; it was but a moment, a glimpse, but in that moment there was communication between earth and heaven. So far we are upon familiar ground. We know something of unaccountable impressions also; and sometimes we utter prayers that angels might have inspired, for the prayers have surprised ourselves and made sudden Sabbath in the midst of the tumultuous week. If then we know something of unexpected meetings, unforeseen opportunities, and unaccountable impressions, we seem to be not far from the angel vision, the angel touch. When Gideon heard the angel's message, he said, in a tone we cannot reproduce, a tone made credulous by incredulity, yet with some resonance of strength in its very halting and shaking,— a tone representing a strange struggle between hopelessness and faith, experience and possibility,— "Oh, sir"— for the term Gideon used in the first instance was but a term of courtesy and not a title of religious veneration— "Oh, sir, if the Lord be with us"— but the angel did not say so; the angel said "thee." Who can listen critically? Who can distinguish between person and number in the grammar of an angel?̶ "Oh, sir, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? [see Deuteronomy 21:17] and where be all his miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt? but now the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites" (Judges 6:13). It was a right answer so far. It was better that Gideon should know the exact circumstances. "To know ourselves diseased is half the cure." Gideon must not have any false hopes. He must not be taking up any broken splinters of wood and saying: These splinters will be swords which we shall thrust through the bows of the enemy. It is well that he is driven into obscurity, that he is made to do his work with the utmost quietness, that he is compelled to act almost as a thief on the threshold of his own house. To be down so far is to be in that darkness which oft precedes the dawn. What did the angel do? The angel did two things. (1) He "looked." Who can interpret that word? Some biblical words must remain without interpretation. Sometimes in translating books from foreign languages into our own we are obliged to quote certain words and let them remain untranslated; we hover over them, point to them, give clumsy paraphrases of their possible meaning, but think it better after all to set down the word itself, for it has no equivalent in our own language. It must be so with this word "look." That look begat attention, inspired confidence, elevated thought, stimulated veneration, and looked Gideon into a new man. There are looks which do so. There is one look which is yet to do this in all the fulness of its meaning: the day is to come when we shall be like Christ, for we shall see him as he is. These are spiritual looks that we read of in the Old Testament, and that we have experience of in the current of our own lives. (2) The angel, however, not only looked but "said"— changed his tone, used human speech, addressed the man in his mother tongue. He said, "Go in this thy might, and thou shalt save Israel from the hand of the Midianites: have not I sent thee?" (Judges 6:14). But Gideon was astounded, and said in effect: Impossible— "Oh, my Lord, wherewith shall I save Israel? behold, my family [my thousand] is poor [the meanest] in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house" (Judges 6:15). This is quite in the line of biblical history. Sarah "laughed" when the angel said that she should be the mother of one who should be supreme in history; Moses was shocked when he was told that he, a wandering, stammering shepherd, should face the Pharaohs of Egypt and demand justice to Israel; Paul was amazed that he should be chosen for great missions of deliverance. Speaking of Gideon, the quaint commentator Trapp says: "He was well-descended, but had mean thoughts of himself. True worth is modest. Moses had distributed the people into thousands as Alfred did the English into shires, hundreds, and tenths, or tithings, whereof the ancientest were called the tithing men." Such was Gideon's view of himself and his chiliad, or thousand. But there is the accusing and stimulating question: "Have not I sent thee?" accusing men of unfaith in a tone that stimulates them to seize their grandest opportunities. Are there not new births? Are there not vivid realisations? Are there not new selves? Behold, the angel must confirm his own message and vindicate his own revelation. What is the application of all this to ourselves in addition to what has already been said? Are we not often hopeless? We say Jesus Christ is in a minority. Put down the great leaders of the world's religions, and Jesus Christ must statistically take his place near the bottom of the list. That is the arithmetical condition of affairs today. Even if every man in the church be a sound man, yet, reckoning up the sum-total, the figures often sink into insignificance. But are there not these two great lessons lying upon the very face of the history, namely, that we grow in social power as we grow in spiritual consciousness? Just as Gideon saw the angel and was conscious of a divine presence did he grow in social power. He was warmed into a larger self. It is when we see God most clearly that all difficulties vanish from our sight. See God, and you need behold no other sight to make the soul majestic and clothe the life with social beneficence. Fear God, and have no other fear. Be sure that the heavens are with you, then be confident that the harvests of the earth will he gathered even to the last grain of wheat, and the enemy shall not prevail in any degree. Then there is a second lesson lying upon the same line, namely, that we need not be socially great to be spiritually useful. Gideon said, "Behold, my family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house." "Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;" and anything but blessed are they who say, "We are rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing,"— knowing not that they are poor, and blind, and miserable, and naked. It is like God to choose the poorest tribe and the poorest man in the tribe. When did God change that plan? When did he vary that mysterious policy? Is it not that no flesh may glory in his presence? Not many wise, great, mighty, noble are called, but God has chosen the weak things to trouble the strong,— yea, things which are not— things which seem to have no existence— to bring to nought things that are: ghostly ministries operating upon material fortresses, spiritual agencies crumbling down temples in the night-time, mysterious influences rending the mighty and bringing down that which is high. Selected Note Palestine, which is only about the size of Wales, and was still largely held by the former inhabitants, was subdivided by the Hebrews into many tribal governments, as England in the Saxon period was broken up into Essex, Wessex, Mercia, Kent, Sussex, and several other kingdoms; and was, hence, in constant danger of inroad and subjugation. To the nomadic tribes of the desert, which stretched to the borders of the land on the east and south, the valleys of Gilead and Bashan, and the fertile plains of Central Canaan, were an irresistible temptation, stretching out as they did like paradises of green, before eyes wearied with the yellow sand or dry barrenness of the wilderness. Israel itself, when only so many wandering tribes, had forced a way into these oases, and had held them, and there seemed no reason why other races should not, like them, exchange the desert for a home so fair, at least during the summer and harvest of each year, by overpowering Israel in turn. The forty years' rest after Deborah's triumph was rudely broken by inroads excited in this hope. A great confederation of the Arab tribes, like that which, at an earlier day, had given the Shepherd Kings to Egypt, poured into Palestine. Midianites, Amalekites, and all "the children of the east," far and near, in countless numbers, with immense trains of camels, and of cattle, and flocks, streamed up the steep wadys from the fords of Jordan, and swept all resistance before them, from Esdraelon, on the north, to Gaza, on the extreme south. No sooner had the fields been sown each year, than these wild hordes reappeared, covering the hill pastures and the fertile valleys, in turn, with their tents; driving off every sheep, or goat, or ox, or ass, they could find, and seizing all hoards of grain they could discover, saved from the few fields that had escaped destruction by their endless flocks and herds. No visitation could be more terrible, for there was neither food nor live stock left in the land. Fire and sword spread terror on every side; desperate resistance by isolated bands of Hebrews only led to the massacre of these brave defenders of their homes, and at last safety and even existence seemed possible only by the population taking refuge in the numerous caves of the hills, and in strongholds on hill tops. —Geikie.Prayer Almighty God, come to us as thou wilt— a great fire, or a great wind, or a still small voice. We shall know thee when thou comest, for we are akin to thee; thou didst make us and put thy name upon us. We are fearfully and wonderfully made; we are a continual surprise unto ourselves: sometimes we are self-afraid; sometimes we are tempted to be as gods. Now we know ourselves to be but men, and we sigh about our frailty, and say we are as a withering leaf, as a speck of dust blown about by the wind, a vapour that cometh for a little time and then vanisheth away; then in some other mood, created by thyself, we lay our hands upon all heaven and claim it as an inheritance in Christ Jesus, saying, This is the meaning of his blood, this is the true interpretation of his Cross,— glory, honour, immortality; service without weariness, worship accompanied by growing knowledge, trust in God untroubled by a doubt. Whether we are in this mood, or that, low down or high up, moaning about our littleness or rejoicing in our spiritual sonship, take not thy Holy Spirit from us: Holy Spirit, dwell with us! As for these varying tempers and conditions of ours, are we not still prisoners of time, bondmen of the flesh? Are we not oppressed by circumstances we cannot control? But of all these we shall presently be rid, and then we shall claim thy great creation for the development of our powers, for the continuance and consummation of our worship. For all high religious feeling we bless thee; for all sweet Christian hope we thank thee: whilst the angel of hope shines within us and sings its sweet song of heaven, we know nothing of death or of restraint or of littleness; we are already in the celestial world mingling companionlike with the angels. Read thy book to us thyself, with thine own voice, in thine own tone, and the tone shall be explanation: we shall know what thou meanest when we hear thine own voice. Above all things give to us the seeing eye, the hearing ear, and the understanding heart, when we come into the sanctuary of revelation, lest we exalt ourselves and say our own right-hand hath gotten us what spiritual prey we have: rather would we say, This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes,— is not his love a continual wonder? Is not his grace a perpetual revelation? Hold us, Mighty One, today and to-morrow, and on the third day perfect us. Amen. Gideon— (Continued) Judges 6-8WHEN the angel "looked" at Gideon the good man's heart was troubled, and yet his hope was revived. His faith went so far that he would submit to receive some test and proof that the angel was in very deed the messenger of God. It is something to have got so far along the road of the better land; anything in this direction is better than deafness, blindness, and utter indifference. Gideon said, "If now I have found grace in thy sight, then show me a sign that thou talkest with me" (Judges 6:17). According to the laws of Oriental hospitality, Gideon withdrew to prepare refreshment for his wondrous visitor:— "Depart not hence, I pray thee, until I come unto thee, and bring forth my present, and set it before thee." And the angel said, "I will tarry until thou come again." "Gideon went in, and made ready a kid, and unleavened cakes of an ephah of flour:"— unleavened bread being more easily-prepared than any other— "the flesh he put in a basket, and he put the broth in a pot, and brought it out unto him under the oak, and presented it." The angel said, "Take the flesh and the unleavened cakes, and lay them upon this rock, and pour out the broth." And Gideon did so. "Then the angel of the Lord put forth the end of the staff that was in his hand, and touched the flesh and the unleavened cakes; and there rose up fire out of the rock, and consumed the flesh and the unleavened cakes. Then the angel of the Lord departed out of his sight" (Judges 6:21). Now there came a practical test to be applied to Gideon. Sooner or later that test comes to every man. If we put God to the test, what if God should in his turn put us also upon our trial? The test to which Gideon was about to be put was a practical one. As the foreign invasion of Midian was traceable to Israel's evil-doing, so the beginning of the divine deliverance must be moral, spiritual, and religious. That same night the Lord said to Gideon: Take thy father's young bullock, even the second bullock of seven years old, attach it to the altar of Baal by rope or iron, and drag it down. That was a negative beginning. We must get down the old altar before we put up the new one. "And"— when thou hast done this— "build an altar unto the Lord thy God upon the top of this rock, in the ordered place [build an altar with the wood laid in order]; and take the second bullock, and offer a burnt sacrifice with the wood of the grove which thou shalt cut down" (Judges 6:26). Gideon made one reservation. We do not wonder that he should have done so. He said, in effect: I cannot do this in the daytime; I will do it by night.— Who can blame him? Who will call him coward? It was a natural device. Men cannot be courageous all at once. Some men need to be trained and nursed into courage; be gentle with them, patient and hopeful,— who can spring into lionhood all in one sudden moment? "Gideon took ten men of his own," rather than "ten men of his servants," and pulled down Baal's altar by night. When night gives up her history, it may be found that many a man has attempted to begin a better life under the cover of darkness. We should not taunt men for want of boldness in spiritual things; sometimes they are bolder than we have imagined them to be: they may even have attempted to pray aloud when no one was present. That is a trial of a man's spiritual sincerity. It is not every man who can listen to his own voice in prayer and continue the supplication with any composure. A man's first audible prayer might smite himself down as by a great thunder-stroke: the voice seems so loud, the exercise so audacious; it is as if the universe had halted to hear the new appeal. Who shall say that men who are dumb in church have not tried in darkness and in loneliness to sing some little hymn of praise when they were quite unheard? Who knows what papers have been written, what plans of battle have been drawn up, at night-time, wherein men said they would certainly begin at this point, or at that point, to renounce a companionship, to change a custom, to release themselves from the tyranny of a habit: next time they would say No to the invitation which sought to seduce them to evil-doing. Who is not courageous when he is alone? Who is not most eloquent when there is none to hear him? We must not, therefore, fall foul upon the memory of Gideon and charge him with want of courage. But the morning came. What the city then saw! The cathedral, so to say, was pulled down! When the men of the city arose early in the morning they missed the altar and the Asherah, "and they said to one another, Who hath done this thing?" And inquiry resulted in the information that Gideon the son of Joash had done it. "Then the men of the city said unto Joash, Bring out thy son, that he may die: because he hath cast down the altar of Baal, and because he hath cut down the grove that was by it" (Judges 6:30). Joash was not a born Baal-worshipper; the foreign religion sat uneasily upon him. He had inwardly no great respect for Baal; outwardly he was addicted to his worship, but really he had serious misgivings about Baal's godhead. What if all idolators be afflicted with the same scepticism? Scepticism does not grow in the Church with relation to the true God alone; unbelievers in the true religion have scepticism often with regard to their own: they cannot tell what to make of their dumb gods; they have great philosophies about them, but no direct consequence comes of it all; so when an assault is made upon them the resistance is but reluctant or careless. Joash was a wise man; he said: Men of the city, hear me: my son has torn down the altar of Baal; if Baal be a god in very deed let him avenge the wrong himself; do not you interfere as to Baal's sovereignty and godhead: in so far as Baal is a true god he will see to it that the man who insulted his altar shall be punished for his sacrilege and audacity. The men thought this was a good answer, and they accepted it. This is the challenge of the God of the Bible. God is always challenging the false gods to come forward and show what they can do. God mocks them, taunts them, tells them they are nothing,— says they are things made out of iron and stone and wood, and not a single thought is in their carved heads. This is the challenge of Elijah; said he, "The God that answereth by fire, let him be God," whatever his name be; this is not a test of names, forms, ceremonies, dogmas: if Baal be God, let us all worship him, and if the Lord be God, let us bow down in adoration before him:— "the God that answereth by fire, let him be God." The position taken up by Joash is the position we should all take up with regard to religious things. Let God defend himself. The Christian religion is never so humiliated as when men attempt to defend it. God needeth not to be ministered unto by men's hands; nor does he require the patronage of trained intellect and swift and eager mind. God is continually vindicating himself in his providence. God's appeal is: Look at the world; look at it in great breadths of time; not in a handful of days, or in a nameable measure of months, but look at it in the light of centuries; give yourselves field of vision enough; look at the distribution of men, and the distribution of all natural products; consider the occasion well: see what boundaries are set, see what issues are inevitable, observe how ambition is cut in two at a certain point, and must begin again to raise its shattered head; watch all the ebb and flow of civilisation; observe keenly as well as widely; and if providence be not its own vindication, it is useless for any man, however swift of thought or copious in expression, to attempt to vindicate what the facts themselves do not support. Christian teaching will be strong in proportion as it takes this ground. We are not engaged in matters that can be settled by words. We look abroad and see a law operating— a law of restraint, a law of culture, a law of rewards and punishments; we try to check it, modify it, avert it, but it comes on with quiet irresistibleness— an infinite force: who can ascend beyond a certain height? or who can descend without being suffocated? Who can stretch himself out so as to touch the horizon? and who has not chafed as Job chafed when he said, "Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?" If a man would take this wide vision, and bring into focus all these infinite relations, let him look carefully at his own life; let him, as it were, write his own story in his own language, and see how the chapters fall into happy sequence. See what training the man has had, what narrow escapes, what afflictions, what deliverances,— how disappointments have been turned into the roots of prosperity, and how the grim discouraging negative has been the beginning of boldest and most successful endeavour; and when the reviewer has concluded his retrospect, let him say if he can, "All this was of chance, and luck, and incalculable fortune." Gideon, however, was punished by the people in some degree. The people must interfere a little, even in the case of avenging insults offered to Baal. So they called Gideon by a new name,— they called him "Jerubbaal." The least one can do is to give a reformer a nickname. If we may not smite him, we may at least throw some appellation at him which we hope the enemy will take up and use as a sting or a thong. So Gideon was called Jerubbaal— literally, "Baal's antagonist": let Baal strive, let Baal take up his own cause; Gideon is the man who has defied the gods. That was not a severe punishment for the beginning of a revolution. The name itself was taken up afterwards and sanctified. There is nothing the enemy can do that God cannot turn into happy issues. Now came the open conflict:— "Then all the Midianites and the Amalekites and the children of the east were gathered together, and went over, and pitched in the valley of Jezreel" (Judges 6:33). They were there first. They said, They will be well off who are soonest in the field. What had Gideon to present in reply to this tremendous muster? The story reads well at this point: "But the Spirit of the Lord came upon Gideon," and he was a thousand men in himself. Inspired, he knew no fear; the tabernacle of the living God, he trembled not before the wind and the tempest. We need inspired men, mad men, enthusiasts, men who know not whether they are fasting or feasting, men who use the world as not abusing it, who hold every thing lightly but their trust from the living God. Gideon "blew a trumpet; and Abi-ezer"— his little flock— "was gathered after him. And he sent messengers throughout all Manasseh"— the people of the tribe— "who also was gathered after him: and he sent messengers unto Asher"— who once proved faithless— "and unto Zebulun, and unto Naphtali"— who had won immortal fame in the battle last fought by Israel— "and they came up to meet them" (Judges 6:34-35). Spiritual endowment is power. It is of no consequence how many swords the Church has if it has not the living God: "Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword." Christ's kingdom is not of this world: it is a kingdom of thought, feeling, love, sacrifice; be true to that spirit, and none can stand before you. Now Gideon became afraid again, and must therefore be encouraged by another sign from heaven. We must not blame him. He is not the less earnest that he wants to be assured that he is right. Gideon invented a little test for God:— "Behold, I will put a fleece of wool in the floor; and if the dew be on the fleece only, and it be dry upon all the earth beside, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said" (Judges 6:37). Did God reply? God accommodated himself to human weakness as he has always done. Gideon arose early in the morning, "and thrust the fleece together, and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water" (Judges 6:38). ["Wool, as a good radiator of heat, would, under ordinary conditions, receive a plentiful deposit of dew, but so would the surrounding grass and soil. The second miracle was still more remarkable, inferior radiators receiving dew, when a better radiator, wool, remained dry."] Gideon was half persuaded: Now, said he, if the reverse process can be completed, I shall be strong in faith, giving glory to God:— "Let not thine anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this once: let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece and upon all the ground let there be dew. And God did so that night: for it was dry upon the fleece only, and there was dew on all the ground" (Judges 6:39-40). ["The double sign in connection with the fleece, which Gideon asked of God, is an illustration of a tendency in him to ask for signs: and nothing could be more ingenious, nothing more satisfactory, than the alternate wetting by dew of the fleece and of the whole ground. Possibly he was led to use such boldness in repeated pleadings with God, by the example of Abraham's repeated requests when interceding for Sodom (Genesis 18:23-33). And he may have asked for the dew first to concentrate on the fleece, then to spread out over the ground, as he saw how the grace bestowed first upon himself, was spreading out over Israel." —Douglas.] We may not set these fancy tests. They were proper enough at the time when Gideon applied them. The day was not then so far advanced; it was quite early morning, grey twilight, and men did not see clearly, so they asked for much assistance to their vision; and God graciously answered them. Even in apostolic days the freak of the lottery was tried, and we hear but little of the happy consequences which flowed from the adventure. We have nothing to do with putting tests for God now. Why? It would seem a natural and beautiful thing to say, as Gideon said, If the fleece be wet, or if all the earth be wet, and the fleece be dry, then God is with me, and the right way is open before mine eyes. Why may we not submit God to these tests? because the day is far advanced. This is the age of the Spirit, the age of true spiritual or religious faith. We have now to be guided by those inward and spiritual convictions which often have no words for their adequate and precise expression. We are to be students of providence. Providence itself is a succession of trials, tests, proofs. We are to see how things go, to watch their origin, sequence, consummation. We are to get rid of the superstition that life is a series of isolated incidents. Instead of being right in this particular case, or that, we ourselves are to be right, and all these things shall be regulated for us. The man who is anxious to know merely detailed right has not entered into the Spirit of Christ. He is a man who would keep a book regarding himself, and separate or distribute his life into independent lines and items. That is the Baal we must cast down,— the Baal of being right in instances, in mere details, and writing a little maxim-bible of our own. What, then, is the great aim of Providence today? To make right men, to create new and clean hearts and spirits, to make the soul right. Is that represented to us in any formal, quotable words? Surely:— "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." Expand that thought, and what happens but this great philosophy of life, namely: Be right in your soul, be right in your purpose, have a single eye, do not be playing a double game; "do justly, and love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God; "and as for the details of this opening life, they will fall into great laws of divine Providence, and will be ministers of grace to the trusting soul. What an insidious sophism lurks in this thinking, namely, that if we could have lotteries by which to test individual actions we could not go wrong. So long as you are meddling with individual actions, and trying to be guided by a kind of travelling time-bill, you cannot be right. Here is the distinctive glory of Christ's religion. "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." The man does not say, What shall I eat; what shall I drink; wherewithal shall I be clothed; what shall I do to-morrow; and on the second day how shall I be occupied; and in what spirit shall I encounter such and such a possible occasion? That is to live a little life,— to split up, and separate, and individualise, and to act cleverly, not religiously. Life is not to be a system of scheming, managing, arranging, balancing, outwitting those who are half-blind, outrunning those who are cripples or unable to run; life is a religion, a consecration, a spiritual sacrifice, a continual living in the sight and fear and love of God; that being granted, all the rest comes in musical sequence, everything else conies and goes by a rhythm divine in its swing and throb. Foolish are the men who want to be right in particular instances, who desire above all things not to be outwitted on set occasions. There was a time in human history when such desires were natural and wholly seasonable, but that time is not now; for Christ is amongst us, and says to us: Children, be the children of your Father in heaven; be ye holy, as your Father in heaven is holy; be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect; trust your Father, little flock; be not disheartened; live in your Father's good pleasure: seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all details will settle themselves. Why, who would kindle a little fire in his own field to dissolve the snow, and say he will have at least a little garden there? Is the great snow to be broken up into patches in that way, and are we to have little summers and little forces of nature, and little clever attempts to grow something under the most discouraging circumstances? Do not interfere with God's law in that way. God will send a south wind and a warm sun, and the snow will flee away. There must be a great astronomic movement— a high, mighty far-reaching movement, a change of atmosphere: and that will drive back the winter, and in due time "throw a primrose on the bank in pledge of victory." So must it be with the winter-bound heart of man. It is not by lighting little fires here and there so as to warm great feeling, or create a momentary benevolence, or rise into a temporary ecstasy; the Spirit of the living God must descend upon the whole man, must take possession of the heart; and, reigning there, ruling there, working out the mystery of inspiration there, all the life shall bud and blossom, and be gracious and hospitable as summer. This is the better plan; this is the grander philosophy of life. We do not pronounce judgment upon Gideon in any adverse terms; he did what he could. God smiled upon his infantile endeavours; the great day of spiritual inspiration had not then fully come. Gideon's purpose was to know whether God was with him. The purpose is eternal— the method of discovery was temporary. Let us also know whether God is with us, not in this particular case, or in that particular case, but whether God is with us in very deed within, ruling the mind, and heart, and will, and judgment of the whole soul; and then if we go downhill, it will be downhill on the highlands: even the valleys are lifted up in these great heights; and if we do stumble, we shall rise again— yea, though we fall seven times, the eighth endeavour shall bring us home. He who lives upon any other principle lives a sharper's life,— often very clever, often very skilful, a good deal may be said in defence of it as to particular instances and individual successes, but he is a charlatan, an empiric, an adventurer; he is setting traps for God, and fancy devices wherein to entangle the Eternal. The great life— the grand, true, simple life— is to be in Christ, in God, as to thought, feeling, purpose: then let the days bring with them what they may, all their bringing will be overruled and sanctified, and even our very faults shall help us in our higher education. Selected Note "Cast down the altar of Baal" (Judges 6:30).— The word ba'al, as it signifies lord, master, is a generic term for god in many of the Syro-Arabian languages. As the idolatrous nations of that race had several gods, this word, by means of some accessory distinction, became applicable as a name to many different deities. Baal is appropriated to the chief male divinity of the Phoenicians, the principal seat of whose worship was at Tyre. The idolatrous Israelites adopted the worship of this god (almost always in conjunction with that of Ashtoreth) in the period of the Judges (Judges 2:13); they continued it in the reigns of Ahaz and Manasseh, kings of Judah (2 Chronicles 28:2; 2 Kings 21:3); and among the kings of Israel, especially in the reign of Ahab, who, partly through the influence of his wife, the daughter of the Sidonian king Ethbaal, appears to have made a systematic attempt to suppress the worship of God altogether, and to substitute that of Baal in its stead (1 Kings 16:31); and in that of Hoshea (2 Kings 17:16), although Jehu and Jehoida once severally destroyed the temples and priesthood of the idol (2 Kings 10:18, sq.; 2 Kings 11:18). Prayer Almighty God, thou hast made the sanctuary a place of explanation: within thy house we understand all that is needful for us to know. Outside of it we cannot tell what things really are; we are in the midst of tumult and strife and anger; wrath and malice and bitterness exclude thy presence, but when we come into the house of God we see in the true light, we know somewhat of thy meaning, we are privileged to behold the outworking of thy purposes, and as we look we wonder, and as we wonder we pray, and our prayer speedily becomes a song of praise, because we see that the Lord reigneth and that the end of things is in his hands. Enable us often to come to the sanctuary. Blessed be thy grace for establishing it, so that now we may say, the tabernacle of God is with men upon the earth; God's house is in the midst of our dwellings. When we come into the sanctuary may we find the spirit of the house there,— the spirit of reverence and love, the spirit that loves the truth and follows after it and will eventually establish it; and being in the spirit in thy house, may thy book appear to us in all its breadth and lustre: wide as the great heaven, brighter than the sun when he shines in his strength; and may our hearts be comforted by the messages which they most need; and if first we must be humbled and chastened, stripped and impoverished, that we may know our right condition, thou wilt not end the process there, but having shown us our blindness and nakedness and wretchedness thou wilt give us fine gold, and ointment wherewith to anoint ourselves, and truth upon truth, until the soul is filled with the riches of Christ. So let it be now and evermore. May the sanctuary be a place of elevation whence we can see afar, and a place of revelation where we can see sights let down from heaven and hear voices meant for our instruction and comfort. To the sanctuary we bring our sin. Here we leave it, because the Cross is here; we may not— need not— take it back with us; for the blood of Jesus Christ thy Son cleanseth from all sin. Here let our sin be crucified; here let our sin be pardoned. This prayer we pray at the Cross; and we tarry at the Cross until the answer come. Amen. Gideon— (Continued) Judges 6-8THERE are critical words in every life, and critical moments. Everything seems to happen all at once,— a curious sense of suddenness affecting the whole life. The word "then," with which the first verse of the seventh chapter opens, marks a critical point of time. How easily the word is written; and how easily said; but all Gideon's life seemed crowded into that ardent moment. So it is with our own lives. We crush the whole life into one day. Or we seem to see for what our whole life has been preparing by the light which shines upon one special moment. The time of battle had come; but the time of battle came in the case of Jerubbaal, as we have seen, after long and singular preparation. All that is happening should be regarded as of the nature of preparation. We should ask ourselves now and again, even amid the monotony of life, What is the meaning of this rest? What is the point of this delay? God always has a purpose, and we ought to find it. Why all this schooling, this long and weary study, this knocking night and day at Wisdom's door? These intellectual inquiries touch the very region of prayer. What is the meaning of all these providences? In all these undulating lines of life read the philosophy and purpose of heaven regarding human service and destiny. Why these sharp trials, these rains of sorrow, these rivers of grief? Why these bereavements, losses, deprivations, disappointments, surprises? Has the tale no end? Is there no point of fire, no final climax? Is it all tumult, change, gain, loss, pleasure, pain,— on and on, and the last pain the greatest,— the pain of saying farewell before dropping into eternal silence? This cannot be. The question, then, should come to every man when he is seeing visions, hearing voices he never heard before, receiving unexpected and startling visits, What is the meaning of it all? This means action: presently the story will open upon the battle chapter. Surely some of us have had preparation enough. Long since we ought to have been in the thick of the fight, Why all this book-reading? Is there room in the crowded memory for one more volume? Surely we may say to some students, Why continue the bent head, the midnight lamp, the vigil out of season? What is the meaning of all this? The battle waits, or the battle might now begin: the world might turn round and ask, Are you not ready now to speak some gospel word, or at least look some look of hope, lifting upon our weariness eyes that might be as revelations and encouragements. It is weary work to watch how long some men are in putting on their armour. It tires the soul to see how long some men are in whetting the sickle, whilst the white harvest almost withers because of their unaccountable, if not criminal, delay. The critical morning dawned upon the life of Gideon. He took up his new name, having no objection to it. When his fellow-citizens called him Jerubbaal, he said, in effect: So be it: that name expresses my relation to the false god exactly,— namely: "Let Baal strive;" or "Let me be Baal's antagonist:" I yoke a bullock to the god, and drag him down; now let my father's advice be accepted, and let Baal defend his own case. It is wonderful to notice how many of these Old Testament people take their new name with fine grace, as if with deep sense of the fitness of the larger appellation. We, too, are called upon to pass into new names, or new categories: have we done so? Have we been called Christians? Or are we hiding the new faith under the old name, so that the people know not that a change has taken place in our title? "Beloved, now are we the sons of God." Yet some of us have hardly dared to claim and wear the name. If to some there belongs a name of controversy, battle, antagonism, take it up: it suits the times; the world wants warriors. Take the name which God gives you, or which is brought to bear upon you by the order of his providence. When does God give a less name than the old one? He adds a syllable, and thereby adds a destiny: he changes one letter, first or last, and therein changes the course of a lifetime. "Jerubbaal, who is Gideon," took his place at the head of his people, "rose up early." When did the great worker ever rise up late? Early-rising is a necessity of divine vocation. There need be no mechanical arrangement about it. The work is terrific, and the worker is straitened until it be accomplished. There is an impatience that is inspired. Gideon and his people "pitched beside the well of Harod,"— that is, beside the well of "trembling," beside the well of "fear." It is well to begin at that point. Many a man who has begun his work nervously has turned out at the end to be quite a giant. Take heart; you are indeed now at the well of Harod,— at the waters of fear and trembling,— but if you are there on God's business, have no vital fear; you may shake off all fear and pray in the church as a child might pray at home, and fight in the field as consciously called of God to do the work of battle. We must not pour contempt upon men who are nervous, timid, hesitant in their first speech, afraid to pray their first audible prayer. History ought to have taught us a good deal upon such matters. Men who have begun thus have ended in great renown. Everything depends upon our spirit, upon our reliance upon the living God, upon our knowing that the work is not ours but the Lord's. This would seem to have been the course of the divine thought, for "the Lord said unto Gideon, The people that are with thee are too many." They are but thirty-two thousand in all; yet they are too many. But how can they be too many, for the Midianites are a hundred and thirty-five thousand strong? That, said God, is making a human calculation. We get wrong by applying human arithmetic to divine decrees; or we get wrong by trying to measure God's eternity by the tape of our time. He was an inspired man who invented the phrase "for ever and ever." That is the point at which time gives up the race, falls down dead, and lets eternity stand in its nameless mystery. But today we will play the arithmetician, and deal in figures and tables and returns audited and well avouched. When will we, can we, learn that all numbering is with the Lord, and that because the battle is his he will fight it as it pleases him? Israel would make a wrong use of numbers, as most men do. Israel would say, "Mine own hand hath saved me: I was thirty-two thousand strong on that memorable day, and that was force enough to slay the Midianitish power." God will stain the pride of all glory. God will not allow any flesh to glory in his presence. If we are gospel preachers, "we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." Human ambition must be restrained. The so-called law of cause and effect, which has victimised so many men in the spiritual universe, must be upset and contemned. When the Church comes into this temper we shall hear news of victory: God will surprise his trustful Church with tidings of great joy. Two-and-twenty thousand men returned unto their houses because they were fearful and afraid. Do not contemn this cowardice, for it is the very colour and temper of our own time. Many men are bold the day after the battle; many have nearly said the word of courage, the word of just reproof. Are not the greatest numbers most cowardly? In a sense this is true. If they could fight as a crowd they would be partially courageous: but real fight comes to man by man, assault and answer. So two-and-twenty thousand men said, We had better continue in oppression, in slavery, in loss, than challenge these unequal odds. But the Lord said, "The people are yet too many;" and the number was reduced to three hundred men by a very curious and interesting test, namely, the different methods in which water was taken. Are there no such tests now? We suppose that this test has passed away and settled in venerable history, to be occasionally exhumed and wondered about: the particular instance itself may no longer be literally repeated, but the principle that is in it is the principle which is operating in the very men who deny the accuracy of the literal incident itself. Men are chosen now by curious signs. We do not know how we are chosen to any particular work; but it may be found incidentally that some little unexpected circumstance, of which we took no note or heed, determined our being where we are. Men who want servants, lieutenants, allies, co-operative assistants, are looking round; the people upon whom they are looking may be unaware of the critical inspection, but it is proceeding nevertheless. Those who are looking on say, He walks lazily, his gait is lacking in energy; he will never do for my particular work. Or: See how he walks; what fire there is in him; every action is half a battle; he needs but to be put in the right circumstances, and he will turn out a satisfactory man; or: He talks too much; his speech is without pith or regard to the number of its words; he patters and gossips and is cursed with a detestable fluency: listen; he never ceases, he never pauses, he evidently loves to hear himself chatter,— he will never do. Or: He is an excellent listener; he does not commit himself: observe, he never plunges into anything that he cannot fully grasp and comprehend; he looks more than he speaks; not a word escapes that listener: when he does speak there is marrow in his speech; he is young, but he will get over that disadvantage; he shapes well already. This process is going on through all society. Men are noting one another; seeing whether they lie down upon the ground and devour the water, or whether, being men in wise haste and under self-control, they lap it, and pass on. The little local incident has changed, but the principle of curious and even eccentric election is operating in all life, and the men who deny the Bible live over again its most curious instances. Gideon was one of those men who require continual encouragement. It was not enough to say to him once for all, "I will be with thee;" he did not doubt the divine presence: but see how Israel had been weakened, impoverished, crushed, these last seven years by the invasion of the Midianites; see how they dare not thresh their corn in the open field or accessible winepress, but had to beat it out in the concealment of the crags and rocks; observe how Israel had to listen and look to assure himself that no Midianite was looking on before he rubbed out his handful of corn and got it ready for the baking;— then say if a man could instantly become a great religious and courageous character; and then see how loving it was of God to deal with him according to his weakness, to encourage him, little by little to lead him on. Why, this is the Christly spirit: he will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax; he has the tongue of the learned, and can speak a word in season to him that is weary; he will not urge his omnipotence against our nothingness, but will accommodate his approach, and breathe upon us quietly, and send to our sinking spirits a still small voice. So Gideon needed to be encouraged again. The Lord said to him: I have made a man down in the Midianitish camp dream a curious dream; I will so operate upon him that he will begin to talk as it were in a half-sleep: go down and listen. Gideon looked afraid; the Lord noticed the blanched face and said: If thou fear to go down alone, go thou with Phurah thy servant; two may be better than one. This is an anticipation of the time when the Lord sent out his servants "by two and two." Gideon took heart when he was allowed to take a servant with him. "Then went he down with Phurah his servant unto the outside of the armed [the same word is rendered harnessed in Exodus 13:18. The probable meaning is arrayed in divisions] men that were in the host. And the Midianites and the Amalekites and all the children of the east lay along in the valley like grasshoppers [locusts. Compare Numbers 22:4-5] for multitude; and their camels were without number, as the sand by the sea side for multitude" (Judges 7:11-12). When Gideon came near a man told a dream to his neighbour; he said, "Behold, I dreamed a dream, and, lo, a cake of barley bread"— such bread as Israel has been reduced to, the bread of poverty— "tumbled into the host of Midian, and came unto a tent, and smote it that it fell, and overturned it, that the tent lay along." It is an extraordinary dream; what is the meaning of it? The other man had the faculty of interpretation; he said, "This is nothing else save the sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel." Once let the enemy have within him the fear that the opposing host will succeed, and the battle is won. Battles are lost and won in the soul. The Church has feared, and the Church has lost. The battle opened. Israel, represented by three hundred men, did according to the instructions of Gideon:— "When I blow with a trumpet, I and all that are with me, then blow ye the trumpets also on every side of all the camp, and say, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon,"— and that will correspond in instructive harmony with the dream which I have overheard; the name of Gideon has entered into the speech of the Midianites; associate that name with this great battle, and say, "The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon." So the battle opened. "And the three companies blew the trumpets, and brake the pitchers, and held the lamps in their left hands, and the trumpets in their right hands to blow withal: and they cried, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon;" and as the torches were shaken in the air, for they were torches rather than what we understand as lamps, and as the sound came from every quarter at once, Midian was afraid, and Midian was destroyed. Make the most of yourselves. You are but three hundred, but symbolically you are all heaven. This manner of assaulting the enemy is no dramatic manner, no pretence or affectation; this is a battle which is being fought on divine principles: therefore, if three hundred men seem to be three millions, they are such, multiplied by themselves and multiplied by infinity in their symbolical and representative capacity. Gideon took princes that day, even "Oreb and Zeeb," the Raven and the Wolf. The heads of the raven and the wolf were brought to Gideon on the other side Jordan,— see him with the one in one hand and the other in the other. It was an old and barbarous plan to bring the head of the enemy to the hand of the conqueror. It is not a thing to be reproduced or countenanced by Christanised civilisation; but it was the ancient mode of warfare, and must be judged by the morality of the age. This is typical. "Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength? "He has trodden the winepress alone. He is mighty to save; he is mighty also to destroy. "His enemies will I clothe with shame: but upon himself shall his crown flourish." In this faith all Christians live and work, serve and suffer, and, blessed be God, the inspiration is in us also. Men call themselves by symbolical names, as Midian was called "the Raven," but God's hand is in the heavens, and the air shall be cleansed of his enemies:— "the Wolf," but God's eyes are in the forest and the jungle and the wilderness, and he will destroy the ravenous beast. Men have called themselves by ideal and typical names, as the "Gracchi"— the jackdaws. This entry is longer than a Bible module can hold. The rest is at https://www.sermonindex.net/commentary/pb/ Gideon Judges 6-8AT the close of the song of Deborah "the land had rest forty years." The sixth chapter begins with the usual black line:— "And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord." These comings and goings of evil in human history seem to be fated. Men never get so clear away from evil as never to come back again to it; at any moment the course of life may be reversed, and the altar, the vow, the song, and the prayer may be forgotten like vanished summers. This makes the reading of human history a weary toil. We have only to turn over a leaf, and the saints who have been singing are as active as ever in evil. It would be difficult to believe this if we did not know it to be true. This Bible-history is indeed our own history written before the time. Our life seems to be spent upon a short ladder, in going up, in coming down: in going up to pray, in coming down to sin, and drying the tears of penitence; and climbing again, and then coming down; miles short of heaven. The weariness is not in the literature— it is in the fact. We are many men: when we would do good, evil is present with us; when we would do evil, the angel looks at us and reproaches our purpose. The history of Israel is the history of the world. Israel was given over to the hand of the Midianites seven years. This was not, as in the former case, an oppression; it was an attack. In our last study we saw Israel oppressed; here we see a foreign invasion, crowding upon the land inhabited by Israel. Whether in this way or in that, God will not let the battle end until he has punished evil and destroyed it. He is continuing the same policy now. Seated in the heavens, he is watching the earth as if it were the only world he had,— blessing the good, punishing the evil, threatening everything that is of another nature than his own, and keeping perdition for those only who must inevitably be lost. In the olden times there were oppressions, invasions, assaults, and the like; today Providence seems to be operating by subtler methods, but always operating to the same end: to punish the evil, and bless the good. A very vivid picture is given of the state of Israel in chapter Judges 6:2. Israel was dwelling in "the dens which are in the mountains, and caves, and strong holds." The proud and princely Israel was burrowing in the torrent gullies, instead of building cities that should have lifted their towers and spires like ascending psalms to the approving heavens. Think of it well! It is the same today. Men who might have been in the thoroughfare are hidden away in some distressing obscurity. Men who ought to have been foremost are left so far behind they can hardly be seen,— dim spectres in the far-away distance. The Midianites were coming up like locusts. No sooner did the Israelites sow their seed than the Midianites had their eye upon it; and it was only by strategy, cunning almost surpassingly human, that Israel could save a handful of corn for itself. Israel was "impoverished." A very remarkable word is that. It means that they were like a door swinging on broken hinges. Israel, the redeemed people, Israel without whom there might have been no history, Israel had so sinned as to be at last like a door swinging on hinges that were broken: the door could not be shut, the door was no security, the door was a perpetual irony, yea, a daily reproach and taunt. There is a poverty that is the result of what we call misfortune; that is to be pitied and to be assisted: there is a poverty that is only the social and punitive side of sin; that is to be recognised as such— a black blot on the snow of God's holiness, a sad brand on the righteousness of things. Or the figure may be changed, for it is a double one. Israel was like a sear leaf, just hanging by one frail thread to the branch, all the juice gone, all the beautiful green dead for ever, all possibility of fruitfulness exhausted; and there hung great Israel, a leaf— sear, yellow, dead, just hanging to drop! We must realise this condition of things before we can understand the arduousness of the mission of Gideon. If we do not understand the situation we cannot understand Gideon's distress, hesitation, hopelessness. The times were out of joint. All things beautiful were dead. The whole time was given over to idolatry. There was but one man who kept to the true faith, and he seemed to worship in secret; he alone was not swallowed up in the great idolatrous passion; his father had gone religiously astray, but he himself still thought of old histories, and had in him flickering, but, oh, quite dyingly, some hope of returning faith. Then came the inevitable "cry ":— "The children of Israel cried unto the Lord" (Judges 6:6). It was a mean prayer. Some cries must not be answered; they are unworthy screams or utterances of selfish desire. The Lord will not be too critical about these "cries," for who then could stand before him and hope for any thing from his hand? What prayer is there worth being heard, not to say worth being answered? Search it, probe it, and what is it but religious selfishness— a plea for self? But men must pray as best they can. We cannot expect perfect prayers from imperfect men. In the cry there may be something which God can hear to which he will make response. But prayers are not answered, because they are not prayers; they are self-excuses, self-pleadings, desires inspired by selfishness: so they are narrow, shortsighted, out of the rhythm of the music of the universe, notes that cannot be smoothed into the general utterance of the divine purpose; they may do the suppliant good by heightening his veneration or exciting within him some inexpressible desires, but as words they fall back again like birds whose wings have been broken. Israel cried unto the Lord. What was the divine answer to that cry? It was a prophet. Jewish legend says it was Phinehas, son of Eleazar. The prayer was answered by a man:— "The Lord sent a prophet unto the children of Israel" (Judges 6:8). A "prophet" is a teacher, a man who sees the largest relations of things, one who lives above the cloud and can see what is going on underneath it; a seer, a man of penetrating vision, a man whose eyes are within, and from whom God has hidden nothing of wisdom, grace, purpose, and issue. The age must be prepared for its prophets. When the age is haughty, self-contented, self-idolatrous, prophets go for nothing; they are the object of sneering remark; they may be caricatured, they may be turned into food for merriment; but when the age becomes like a door swinging on broken hinges, or like a sear and yellow leaf when all hope has died out of it, then men ask if there be not a prophet, or one who can pray— a seer who can penetrate beyond appearances and discover germs of life or hints of hope? It was so now. The prophet came, and delivered a judicial speech:— "Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, I brought you up from Egypt, and brought you forth out of the house of bondage; and I delivered you out of the hand of the Egyptians, and out of the hand of all that oppressed you, and drave them out from before you, and gave you their land; and I said unto you, I am the Lord your God; fear not the gods of the Amorites [the Amorites were the highlanders of Palestine, and as they were the strongest of all the Canaanitish tribes they are often spoken of as representing or including the whole of them], in whose land ye dwell: but ye have not obeyed my voice" (Judges 6:8-10). Here you find a reminder,— that is to say, a reference to history. Memory was awakened and turned upon the days that had gone, God works through recollection. Marvellous are the miracles which God works by the power of memory: memory goes back, and brings to mind things forgotten, uses them in the light of today, observes their action upon the circumstances which make up the immediate present; and oftentimes a man needs no hotter hell than an awakened and stimulated memory. The recollection was followed by a reproof:— "But ye have not obeyed my voice," saying in effect: I have not changed; I was continuing the line; my purpose was one of deliverance and success and honour for Israel, but ye failed in obedience: first you became reluctant, hesitant, then weary, then you complained of monotony, then you said the yoke galled your shoulders, then you fell clean away, then you built Asherah and worshipped Baal; this is the reason of all that has come upon you; blame yourselves: for men who fall away from the road of obedience fail of the heaven of blessedness. All this is intelligible. We have been accustomed to these reminding and accusing voices ourselves, and we do not hear in them anything that startles our reason or taxes our faith. Now the prophet is succeeded by an angel. A most mysterious instance occurs, challenging our faith in its loftiest moods. Gideon was threshing wheat by the winepress, to hide it from the Midianites. He was in a little sheltered corner, not daring to use a flail, perhaps, lest the beat of it should attract the attention of some listening Midianite; Gideon was almost rubbing the wheat between his hands. He was in a little cave rather than in a winepress, which is hardly the literal translation. He was in a corner by himself, rubbing out the wheat which he had industriously sown, painfully watched, and honestly gathered. It was weary work for Gideon. He felt that he was a prisoner, almost stealing his own bread. This is not unknown to ourselves. Men sometimes have to hide their food from their own relations. Some men dare not even seem to be prosperous, because they know what havoc would be wrought by those who have been watching their honourable and successful labours. Men sometimes have to hide themselves from their own flesh, and to rub out their little handful of wheat behind some sheltering crag. Some men are bound to look poor, because they know they would be fleeced and robbed. Is that not strictly according to our own personal experience? This is the picture presented by the position and action of Gideon [hewer]: a hidden man, doing an honest work in the quietest possible way, only thankful if he can get his wheat turned into bread to satisfy his hunger. Watch Gideon, the one religious man of the place and time. If any one were to come from heaven now, he would come to Gideon. Like descends upon like. "And there came an angel of the Lord, and sat under an oak which was in Ophrah [in Western Manasseh], that pertaineth unto Joash the Abi-ezrite." For a time the angel was silent. How will he speak to a weary man? He will say to him: Poor laden one, this is sad work for Israel; poor weary Gideon, I am sorry for thee in my heart; Gideon, thou shouldst have been out in the open air swinging thy flail and separating the chaff from the wheat right cheerfully and hopefully— poor Gideon! Such sympathy would have overborne the man; it would have been the one drop that would have made the cup of his sorrow overflow. No, there must be sharp reaction; a note must be struck that will awaken the man wholly: he must not continue his dream-trouble, he must have his sleep driven away. What said the angel? "The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour." The speech seemed to be ironical. Gideon had about him the look as to weariness of a man who was exhausted. But he was a king, and he had a kingly presence, a face that only needed to be awakened to answer the angel's own in the likeness of kinship. There was no fairer man than Gideon in all the land; the make of him was a miracle of God. When he stretched himself right out to his full compass and looked his best self, one could understand how it was that he had "faithful among the faithless been," and had kept Jehovah's altar even amid the riot of the Baal-worshippers. Who shall say there is no kinship between angels and men? Who has wisdom enough to declare that there is no connection between the spiritual life or lives of the universe? It is not only a higher faith but a nobler reason which would say: All we, men, women, children, angels, spirits of the blessed, are one, warmed with one fire, radiant with one glory, expectant of one destiny. We cannot settle anything about this angel that is definite and final. What do we know that is at all of the nature of counterpart? We know something about unexpected meetings, strangers speaking to us, and yet so speaking that we know them,— speaking to us in our mother tongue, speaking to us words which we have wanted to hear but dare scarcely speak to ourselves; people making beginnings which have had happy endings;— that we know right well. We know something of unforeseen opportunities: the cloud has suddenly opened, and we have seen where we were. Clouds often do open quite suddenly. We have seen the mariner watching for the sun for days: the mariner is ready, his glass is in his hand; if there be but one little rift in that great cloud, he will avail himself of the opportunity to know where the sun is that he may know where his ship is. A rift has come, a sudden chance; it was but a moment, a glimpse, but in that moment there was communication between earth and heaven. So far we are upon familiar ground. We know something of unaccountable impressions also; and sometimes we utter prayers that angels might have inspired, for the prayers have surprised ourselves and made sudden Sabbath in the midst of the tumultuous week. If then we know something of unexpected meetings, unforeseen opportunities, and unaccountable impressions, we seem to be not far from the angel vision, the angel touch. When Gideon heard the angel's message, he said, in a tone we cannot reproduce, a tone made credulous by incredulity, yet with some resonance of strength in its very halting and shaking,— a tone representing a strange struggle between hopelessness and faith, experience and possibility,— "Oh, sir"— for the term Gideon used in the first instance was but a term of courtesy and not a title of religious veneration— "Oh, sir, if the Lord be with us"— but the angel did not say so; the angel said "thee." Who can listen critically? Who can distinguish between person and number in the grammar of an angel?̶ "Oh, sir, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? [see Deuteronomy 21:17] and where be all his miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt? but now the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites" (Judges 6:13). It was a right answer so far. It was better that Gideon should know the exact circumstances. "To know ourselves diseased is half the cure." Gideon must not have any false hopes. He must not be taking up any broken splinters of wood and saying: These splinters will be swords which we shall thrust through the bows of the enemy. It is well that he is driven into obscurity, that he is made to do his work with the utmost quietness, that he is compelled to act almost as a thief on the threshold of his own house. To be down so far is to be in that darkness which oft precedes the dawn. What did the angel do? The angel did two things. (1) He "looked." Who can interpret that word? Some biblical words must remain without interpretation. Sometimes in translating books from foreign languages into our own we are obliged to quote certain words and let them remain untranslated; we hover over them, point to them, give clumsy paraphrases of their possible meaning, but think it better after all to set down the word itself, for it has no equivalent in our own language. It must be so with this word "look." That look begat attention, inspired confidence, elevated thought, stimulated veneration, and looked Gideon into a new man. There are looks which do so. There is one look which is yet to do this in all the fulness of its meaning: the day is to come when we shall be like Christ, for we shall see him as he is. These are spiritual looks that we read of in the Old Testament, and that we have experience of in the current of our own lives. (2) The angel, however, not only looked but "said"— changed his tone, used human speech, addressed the man in his mother tongue. He said, "Go in this thy might, and thou shalt save Israel from the hand of the Midianites: have not I sent thee?" (Judges 6:14). But Gideon was astounded, and said in effect: Impossible— "Oh, my Lord, wherewith shall I save Israel? behold, my family [my thousand] is poor [the meanest] in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house" (Judges 6:15). This is quite in the line of biblical history. Sarah "laughed" when the angel said that she should be the mother of one who should be supreme in history; Moses was shocked when he was told that he, a wandering, stammering shepherd, should face the Pharaohs of Egypt and demand justice to Israel; Paul was amazed that he should be chosen for great missions of deliverance. Speaking of Gideon, the quaint commentator Trapp says: "He was well-descended, but had mean thoughts of himself. True worth is modest. Moses had distributed the people into thousands as Alfred did the English into shires, hundreds, and tenths, or tithings, whereof the ancientest were called the tithing men." Such was Gideon's view of himself and his chiliad, or thousand. But there is the accusing and stimulating question: "Have not I sent thee?" accusing men of unfaith in a tone that stimulates them to seize their grandest opportunities. Are there not new births? Are there not vivid realisations? Are there not new selves? Behold, the angel must confirm his own message and vindicate his own revelation. What is the application of all this to ourselves in addition to what has already been said? Are we not often hopeless? We say Jesus Christ is in a minority. Put down the great leaders of the world's religions, and Jesus Christ must statistically take his place near the bottom of the list. That is the arithmetical condition of affairs today. Even if every man in the church be a sound man, yet, reckoning up the sum-total, the figures often sink into insignificance. But are there not these two great lessons lying upon the very face of the history, namely, that we grow in social power as we grow in spiritual consciousness? Just as Gideon saw the angel and was conscious of a divine presence did he grow in social power. He was warmed into a larger self. It is when we see God most clearly that all difficulties vanish from our sight. See God, and you need behold no other sight to make the soul majestic and clothe the life with social beneficence. Fear God, and have no other fear. Be sure that the heavens are with you, then be confident that the harvests of the earth will he gathered even to the last grain of wheat, and the enemy shall not prevail in any degree. Then there is a second lesson lying upon the same line, namely, that we need not be socially great to be spiritually useful. Gideon said, "Behold, my family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house." "Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;" and anything but blessed are they who say, "We are rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing,"— knowing not that they are poor, and blind, and miserable, and naked. It is like God to choose the poorest tribe and the poorest man in the tribe. When did God change that plan? When did he vary that mysterious policy? Is it not that no flesh may glory in his presence? Not many wise, great, mighty, noble are called, but God has chosen the weak things to trouble the strong,— yea, things which are not— things which seem to have no existence— to bring to nought things that are: ghostly ministries operating upon material fortresses, spiritual agencies crumbling down temples in the night-time, mysterious influences rending the mighty and bringing down that which is high. Selected Note Palestine, which is only about the size of Wales, and was still largely held by the former inhabitants, was subdivided by the Hebrews into many tribal governments, as England in the Saxon period was broken up into Essex, Wessex, Mercia, Kent, Sussex, and several other kingdoms; and was, hence, in constant danger of inroad and subjugation. To the nomadic tribes of the desert, which stretched to the borders of the land on the east and south, the valleys of Gilead and Bashan, and the fertile plains of Central Canaan, were an irresistible temptation, stretching out as they did like paradises of green, before eyes wearied with the yellow sand or dry barrenness of the wilderness. Israel itself, when only so many wandering tribes, had forced a way into these oases, and had held them, and there seemed no reason why other races should not, like them, exchange the desert for a home so fair, at least during the summer and harvest of each year, by overpowering Israel in turn. The forty years' rest after Deborah's triumph was rudely broken by inroads excited in this hope. A great confederation of the Arab tribes, like that which, at an earlier day, had given the Shepherd Kings to Egypt, poured into Palestine. Midianites, Amalekites, and all "the children of the east," far and near, in countless numbers, with immense trains of camels, and of cattle, and flocks, streamed up the steep wadys from the fords of Jordan, and swept all resistance before them, from Esdraelon, on the north, to Gaza, on the extreme south. No sooner had the fields been sown each year, than these wild hordes reappeared, covering the hill pastures and the fertile valleys, in turn, with their tents; driving off every sheep, or goat, or ox, or ass, they could find, and seizing all hoards of grain they could discover, saved from the few fields that had escaped destruction by their endless flocks and herds. No visitation could be more terrible, for there was neither food nor live stock left in the land. Fire and sword spread terror on every side; desperate resistance by isolated bands of Hebrews only led to the massacre of these brave defenders of their homes, and at last safety and even existence seemed possible only by the population taking refuge in the numerous caves of the hills, and in strongholds on hill tops. —Geikie.Prayer Almighty God, come to us as thou wilt— a great fire, or a great wind, or a still small voice. We shall know thee when thou comest, for we are akin to thee; thou didst make us and put thy name upon us. We are fearfully and wonderfully made; we are a continual surprise unto ourselves: sometimes we are self-afraid; sometimes we are tempted to be as gods. Now we know ourselves to be but men, and we sigh about our frailty, and say we are as a withering leaf, as a speck of dust blown about by the wind, a vapour that cometh for a little time and then vanisheth away; then in some other mood, created by thyself, we lay our hands upon all heaven and claim it as an inheritance in Christ Jesus, saying, This is the meaning of his blood, this is the true interpretation of his Cross,— glory, honour, immortality; service without weariness, worship accompanied by growing knowledge, trust in God untroubled by a doubt. Whether we are in this mood, or that, low down or high up, moaning about our littleness or rejoicing in our spiritual sonship, take not thy Holy Spirit from us: Holy Spirit, dwell with us! As for these varying tempers and conditions of ours, are we not still prisoners of time, bondmen of the flesh? Are we not oppressed by circumstances we cannot control? But of all these we shall presently be rid, and then we shall claim thy great creation for the development of our powers, for the continuance and consummation of our worship. For all high religious feeling we bless thee; for all sweet Christian hope we thank thee: whilst the angel of hope shines within us and sings its sweet song of heaven, we know nothing of death or of restraint or of littleness; we are already in the celestial world mingling companionlike with the angels. Read thy book to us thyself, with thine own voice, in thine own tone, and the tone shall be explanation: we shall know what thou meanest when we hear thine own voice. Above all things give to us the seeing eye, the hearing ear, and the understanding heart, when we come into the sanctuary of revelation, lest we exalt ourselves and say our own right-hand hath gotten us what spiritual prey we have: rather would we say, This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes,— is not his love a continual wonder? Is not his grace a perpetual revelation? Hold us, Mighty One, today and to-morrow, and on the third day perfect us. Amen. Gideon— (Continued) Judges 6-8WHEN the angel "looked" at Gideon the good man's heart was troubled, and yet his hope was revived. His faith went so far that he would submit to receive some test and proof that the angel was in very deed the messenger of God. It is something to have got so far along the road of the better land; anything in this direction is better than deafness, blindness, and utter indifference. Gideon said, "If now I have found grace in thy sight, then show me a sign that thou talkest with me" (Judges 6:17). According to the laws of Oriental hospitality, Gideon withdrew to prepare refreshment for his wondrous visitor:— "Depart not hence, I pray thee, until I come unto thee, and bring forth my present, and set it before thee." And the angel said, "I will tarry until thou come again." "Gideon went in, and made ready a kid, and unleavened cakes of an ephah of flour:"— unleavened bread being more easily-prepared than any other— "the flesh he put in a basket, and he put the broth in a pot, and brought it out unto him under the oak, and presented it." The angel said, "Take the flesh and the unleavened cakes, and lay them upon this rock, and pour out the broth." And Gideon did so. "Then the angel of the Lord put forth the end of the staff that was in his hand, and touched the flesh and the unleavened cakes; and there rose up fire out of the rock, and consumed the flesh and the unleavened cakes. Then the angel of the Lord departed out of his sight" (Judges 6:21). Now there came a practical test to be applied to Gideon. Sooner or later that test comes to every man. If we put God to the test, what if God should in his turn put us also upon our trial? The test to which Gideon was about to be put was a practical one. As the foreign invasion of Midian was traceable to Israel's evil-doing, so the beginning of the divine deliverance must be moral, spiritual, and religious. That same night the Lord said to Gideon: Take thy father's young bullock, even the second bullock of seven years old, attach it to the altar of Baal by rope or iron, and drag it down. That was a negative beginning. We must get down the old altar before we put up the new one. "And"— when thou hast done this— "build an altar unto the Lord thy God upon the top of this rock, in the ordered place [build an altar with the wood laid in order]; and take the second bullock, and offer a burnt sacrifice with the wood of the grove which thou shalt cut down" (Judges 6:26). Gideon made one reservation. We do not wonder that he should have done so. He said, in effect: I cannot do this in the daytime; I will do it by night.— Who can blame him? Who will call him coward? It was a natural device. Men cannot be courageous all at once. Some men need to be trained and nursed into courage; be gentle with them, patient and hopeful,— who can spring into lionhood all in one sudden moment? "Gideon took ten men of his own," rather than "ten men of his servants," and pulled down Baal's altar by night. When night gives up her history, it may be found that many a man has attempted to begin a better life under the cover of darkness. We should not taunt men for want of boldness in spiritual things; sometimes they are bolder than we have imagined them to be: they may even have attempted to pray aloud when no one was present. That is a trial of a man's spiritual sincerity. It is not every man who can listen to his own voice in prayer and continue the supplication with any composure. A man's first audible prayer might smite himself down as by a great thunder-stroke: the voice seems so loud, the exercise so audacious; it is as if the universe had halted to hear the new appeal. Who shall say that men who are dumb in church have not tried in darkness and in loneliness to sing some little hymn of praise when they were quite unheard? Who knows what papers have been written, what plans of battle have been drawn up, at night-time, wherein men said they would certainly begin at this point, or at that point, to renounce a companionship, to change a custom, to release themselves from the tyranny of a habit: next time they would say No to the invitation which sought to seduce them to evil-doing. Who is not courageous when he is alone? Who is not most eloquent when there is none to hear him? We must not, therefore, fall foul upon the memory of Gideon and charge him with want of courage. But the morning came. What the city then saw! The cathedral, so to say, was pulled down! When the men of the city arose early in the morning they missed the altar and the Asherah, "and they said to one another, Who hath done this thing?" And inquiry resulted in the information that Gideon the son of Joash had done it. "Then the men of the city said unto Joash, Bring out thy son, that he may die: because he hath cast down the altar of Baal, and because he hath cut down the grove that was by it" (Judges 6:30). Joash was not a born Baal-worshipper; the foreign religion sat uneasily upon him. He had inwardly no great respect for Baal; outwardly he was addicted to his worship, but really he had serious misgivings about Baal's godhead. What if all idolators be afflicted with the same scepticism? Scepticism does not grow in the Church with relation to the true God alone; unbelievers in the true religion have scepticism often with regard to their own: they cannot tell what to make of their dumb gods; they have great philosophies about them, but no direct consequence comes of it all; so when an assault is made upon them the resistance is but reluctant or careless. Joash was a wise man; he said: Men of the city, hear me: my son has torn down the altar of Baal; if Baal be a god in very deed let him avenge the wrong himself; do not you interfere as to Baal's sovereignty and godhead: in so far as Baal is a true god he will see to it that the man who insulted his altar shall be punished for his sacrilege and audacity. The men thought this was a good answer, and they accepted it. This is the challenge of the God of the Bible. God is always challenging the false gods to come forward and show what they can do. God mocks them, taunts them, tells them they are nothing,— says they are things made out of iron and stone and wood, and not a single thought is in their carved heads. This is the challenge of Elijah; said he, "The God that answereth by fire, let him be God," whatever his name be; this is not a test of names, forms, ceremonies, dogmas: if Baal be God, let us all worship him, and if the Lord be God, let us bow down in adoration before him:— "the God that answereth by fire, let him be God." The position taken up by Joash is the position we should all take up with regard to religious things. Let God defend himself. The Christian religion is never so humiliated as when men attempt to defend it. God needeth not to be ministered unto by men's hands; nor does he require the patronage of trained intellect and swift and eager mind. God is continually vindicating himself in his providence. God's appeal is: Look at the world; look at it in great breadths of time; not in a handful of days, or in a nameable measure of months, but look at it in the light of centuries; give yourselves field of vision enough; look at the distribution of men, and the distribution of all natural products; consider the occasion well: see what boundaries are set, see what issues are inevitable, observe how ambition is cut in two at a certain point, and must begin again to raise its shattered head; watch all the ebb and flow of civilisation; observe keenly as well as widely; and if providence be not its own vindication, it is useless for any man, however swift of thought or copious in expression, to attempt to vindicate what the facts themselves do not support. Christian teaching will be strong in proportion as it takes this ground. We are not engaged in matters that can be settled by words. We look abroad and see a law operating— a law of restraint, a law of culture, a law of rewards and punishments; we try to check it, modify it, avert it, but it comes on with quiet irresistibleness— an infinite force: who can ascend beyond a certain height? or who can descend without being suffocated? Who can stretch himself out so as to touch the horizon? and who has not chafed as Job chafed when he said, "Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?" If a man would take this wide vision, and bring into focus all these infinite relations, let him look carefully at his own life; let him, as it were, write his own story in his own language, and see how the chapters fall into happy sequence. See what training the man has had, what narrow escapes, what afflictions, what deliverances,— how disappointments have been turned into the roots of prosperity, and how the grim discouraging negative has been the beginning of boldest and most successful endeavour; and when the reviewer has concluded his retrospect, let him say if he can, "All this was of chance, and luck, and incalculable fortune." Gideon, however, was punished by the people in some degree. The people must interfere a little, even in the case of avenging insults offered to Baal. So they called Gideon by a new name,— they called him "Jerubbaal." The least one can do is to give a reformer a nickname. If we may not smite him, we may at least throw some appellation at him which we hope the enemy will take up and use as a sting or a thong. So Gideon was called Jerubbaal— literally, "Baal's antagonist": let Baal strive, let Baal take up his own cause; Gideon is the man who has defied the gods. That was not a severe punishment for the beginning of a revolution. The name itself was taken up afterwards and sanctified. There is nothing the enemy can do that God cannot turn into happy issues. Now came the open conflict:— "Then all the Midianites and the Amalekites and the children of the east were gathered together, and went over, and pitched in the valley of Jezreel" (Judges 6:33). They were there first. They said, They will be well off who are soonest in the field. What had Gideon to present in reply to this tremendous muster? The story reads well at this point: "But the Spirit of the Lord came upon Gideon," and he was a thousand men in himself. Inspired, he knew no fear; the tabernacle of the living God, he trembled not before the wind and the tempest. We need inspired men, mad men, enthusiasts, men who know not whether they are fasting or feasting, men who use the world as not abusing it, who hold every thing lightly but their trust from the living God. Gideon "blew a trumpet; and Abi-ezer"— his little flock— "was gathered after him. And he sent messengers throughout all Manasseh"— the people of the tribe— "who also was gathered after him: and he sent messengers unto Asher"— who once proved faithless— "and unto Zebulun, and unto Naphtali"— who had won immortal fame in the battle last fought by Israel— "and they came up to meet them" (Judges 6:34-35). Spiritual endowment is power. It is of no consequence how many swords the Church has if it has not the living God: "Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword." Christ's kingdom is not of this world: it is a kingdom of thought, feeling, love, sacrifice; be true to that spirit, and none can stand before you. Now Gideon became afraid again, and must therefore be encouraged by another sign from heaven. We must not blame him. He is not the less earnest that he wants to be assured that he is right. Gideon invented a little test for God:— "Behold, I will put a fleece of wool in the floor; and if the dew be on the fleece only, and it be dry upon all the earth beside, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said" (Judges 6:37). Did God reply? God accommodated himself to human weakness as he has always done. Gideon arose early in the morning, "and thrust the fleece together, and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water" (Judges 6:38). ["Wool, as a good radiator of heat, would, under ordinary conditions, receive a plentiful deposit of dew, but so would the surrounding grass and soil. The second miracle was still more remarkable, inferior radiators receiving dew, when a better radiator, wool, remained dry."] Gideon was half persuaded: Now, said he, if the reverse process can be completed, I shall be strong in faith, giving glory to God:— "Let not thine anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this once: let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece and upon all the ground let there be dew. And God did so that night: for it was dry upon the fleece only, and there was dew on all the ground" (Judges 6:39-40). ["The double sign in connection with the fleece, which Gideon asked of God, is an illustration of a tendency in him to ask for signs: and nothing could be more ingenious, nothing more satisfactory, than the alternate wetting by dew of the fleece and of the whole ground. Possibly he was led to use such boldness in repeated pleadings with God, by the example of Abraham's repeated requests when interceding for Sodom (Genesis 18:23-33). And he may have asked for the dew first to concentrate on the fleece, then to spread out over the ground, as he saw how the grace bestowed first upon himself, was spreading out over Israel." —Douglas.] We may not set these fancy tests. They were proper enough at the time when Gideon applied them. The day was not then so far advanced; it was quite early morning, grey twilight, and men did not see clearly, so they asked for much assistance to their vision; and God graciously answered them. Even in apostolic days the freak of the lottery was tried, and we hear but little of the happy consequences which flowed from the adventure. We have nothing to do with putting tests for God now. Why? It would seem a natural and beautiful thing to say, as Gideon said, If the fleece be wet, or if all the earth be wet, and the fleece be dry, then God is with me, and the right way is open before mine eyes. Why may we not submit God to these tests? because the day is far advanced. This is the age of the Spirit, the age of true spiritual or religious faith. We have now to be guided by those inward and spiritual convictions which often have no words for their adequate and precise expression. We are to be students of providence. Providence itself is a succession of trials, tests, proofs. We are to see how things go, to watch their origin, sequence, consummation. We are to get rid of the superstition that life is a series of isolated incidents. Instead of being right in this particular case, or that, we ourselves are to be right, and all these things shall be regulated for us. The man who is anxious to know merely detailed right has not entered into the Spirit of Christ. He is a man who would keep a book regarding himself, and separate or distribute his life into independent lines and items. That is the Baal we must cast down,— the Baal of being right in instances, in mere details, and writing a little maxim-bible of our own. What, then, is the great aim of Providence today? To make right men, to create new and clean hearts and spirits, to make the soul right. Is that represented to us in any formal, quotable words? Surely:— "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." Expand that thought, and what happens but this great philosophy of life, namely: Be right in your soul, be right in your purpose, have a single eye, do not be playing a double game; "do justly, and love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God; "and as for the details of this opening life, they will fall into great laws of divine Providence, and will be ministers of grace to the trusting soul. What an insidious sophism lurks in this thinking, namely, that if we could have lotteries by which to test individual actions we could not go wrong. So long as you are meddling with individual actions, and trying to be guided by a kind of travelling time-bill, you cannot be right. Here is the distinctive glory of Christ's religion. "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." The man does not say, What shall I eat; what shall I drink; wherewithal shall I be clothed; what shall I do to-morrow; and on the second day how shall I be occupied; and in what spirit shall I encounter such and such a possible occasion? That is to live a little life,— to split up, and separate, and individualise, and to act cleverly, not religiously. Life is not to be a system of scheming, managing, arranging, balancing, outwitting those who are half-blind, outrunning those who are cripples or unable to run; life is a religion, a consecration, a spiritual sacrifice, a continual living in the sight and fear and love of God; that being granted, all the rest comes in musical sequence, everything else conies and goes by a rhythm divine in its swing and throb. Foolish are the men who want to be right in particular instances, who desire above all things not to be outwitted on set occasions. There was a time in human history when such desires were natural and wholly seasonable, but that time is not now; for Christ is amongst us, and says to us: Children, be the children of your Father in heaven; be ye holy, as your Father in heaven is holy; be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect; trust your Father, little flock; be not disheartened; live in your Father's good pleasure: seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all details will settle themselves. Why, who would kindle a little fire in his own field to dissolve the snow, and say he will have at least a little garden there? Is the great snow to be broken up into patches in that way, and are we to have little summers and little forces of nature, and little clever attempts to grow something under the most discouraging circumstances? Do not interfere with God's law in that way. God will send a south wind and a warm sun, and the snow will flee away. There must be a great astronomic movement— a high, mighty far-reaching movement, a change of atmosphere: and that will drive back the winter, and in due time "throw a primrose on the bank in pledge of victory." So must it be with the winter-bound heart of man. It is not by lighting little fires here and there so as to warm great feeling, or create a momentary benevolence, or rise into a temporary ecstasy; the Spirit of the living God must descend upon the whole man, must take possession of the heart; and, reigning there, ruling there, working out the mystery of inspiration there, all the life shall bud and blossom, and be gracious and hospitable as summer. This is the better plan; this is the grander philosophy of life. We do not pronounce judgment upon Gideon in any adverse terms; he did what he could. God smiled upon his infantile endeavours; the great day of spiritual inspiration had not then fully come. Gideon's purpose was to know whether God was with him. The purpose is eternal— the method of discovery was temporary. Let us also know whether God is with us, not in this particular case, or in that particular case, but whether God is with us in very deed within, ruling the mind, and heart, and will, and judgment of the whole soul; and then if we go downhill, it will be downhill on the highlands: even the valleys are lifted up in these great heights; and if we do stumble, we shall rise again— yea, though we fall seven times, the eighth endeavour shall bring us home. He who lives upon any other principle lives a sharper's life,— often very clever, often very skilful, a good deal may be said in defence of it as to particular instances and individual successes, but he is a charlatan, an empiric, an adventurer; he is setting traps for God, and fancy devices wherein to entangle the Eternal. The great life— the grand, true, simple life— is to be in Christ, in God, as to thought, feeling, purpose: then let the days bring with them what they may, all their bringing will be overruled and sanctified, and even our very faults shall help us in our higher education. Selected Note "Cast down the altar of Baal" (Judges 6:30).— The word ba'al, as it signifies lord, master, is a generic term for god in many of the Syro-Arabian languages. As the idolatrous nations of that race had several gods, this word, by means of some accessory distinction, became applicable as a name to many different deities. Baal is appropriated to the chief male divinity of the Phoenicians, the principal seat of whose worship was at Tyre. The idolatrous Israelites adopted the worship of this god (almost always in conjunction with that of Ashtoreth) in the period of the Judges (Judges 2:13); they continued it in the reigns of Ahaz and Manasseh, kings of Judah (2 Chronicles 28:2; 2 Kings 21:3); and among the kings of Israel, especially in the reign of Ahab, who, partly through the influence of his wife, the daughter of the Sidonian king Ethbaal, appears to have made a systematic attempt to suppress the worship of God altogether, and to substitute that of Baal in its stead (1 Kings 16:31); and in that of Hoshea (2 Kings 17:16), although Jehu and Jehoida once severally destroyed the temples and priesthood of the idol (2 Kings 10:18, sq.; 2 Kings 11:18). Prayer Almighty God, thou hast made the sanctuary a place of explanation: within thy house we understand all that is needful for us to know. Outside of it we cannot tell what things really are; we are in the midst of tumult and strife and anger; wrath and malice and bitterness exclude thy presence, but when we come into the house of God we see in the true light, we know somewhat of thy meaning, we are privileged to behold the outworking of thy purposes, and as we look we wonder, and as we wonder we pray, and our prayer speedily becomes a song of praise, because we see that the Lord reigneth and that the end of things is in his hands. Enable us often to come to the sanctuary. Blessed be thy grace for establishing it, so that now we may say, the tabernacle of God is with men upon the earth; God's house is in the midst of our dwellings. When we come into the sanctuary may we find the spirit of the house there,— the spirit of reverence and love, the spirit that loves the truth and follows after it and will eventually establish it; and being in the spirit in thy house, may thy book appear to us in all its breadth and lustre: wide as the great heaven, brighter than the sun when he shines in his strength; and may our hearts be comforted by the messages which they most need; and if first we must be humbled and chastened, stripped and impoverished, that we may know our right condition, thou wilt not end the process there, but having shown us our blindness and nakedness and wretchedness thou wilt give us fine gold, and ointment wherewith to anoint ourselves, and truth upon truth, until the soul is filled with the riches of Christ. So let it be now and evermore. May the sanctuary be a place of elevation whence we can see afar, and a place of revelation where we can see sights let down from heaven and hear voices meant for our instruction and comfort. To the sanctuary we bring our sin. Here we leave it, because the Cross is here; we may not— need not— take it back with us; for the blood of Jesus Christ thy Son cleanseth from all sin. Here let our sin be crucified; here let our sin be pardoned. This prayer we pray at the Cross; and we tarry at the Cross until the answer come. Amen. Gideon— (Continued) Judges 6-8THERE are critical words in every life, and critical moments. Everything seems to happen all at once,— a curious sense of suddenness affecting the whole life. The word "then," with which the first verse of the seventh chapter opens, marks a critical point of time. How easily the word is written; and how easily said; but all Gideon's life seemed crowded into that ardent moment. So it is with our own lives. We crush the whole life into one day. Or we seem to see for what our whole life has been preparing by the light which shines upon one special moment. The time of battle had come; but the time of battle came in the case of Jerubbaal, as we have seen, after long and singular preparation. All that is happening should be regarded as of the nature of preparation. We should ask ourselves now and again, even amid the monotony of life, What is the meaning of this rest? What is the point of this delay? God always has a purpose, and we ought to find it. Why all this schooling, this long and weary study, this knocking night and day at Wisdom's door? These intellectual inquiries touch the very region of prayer. What is the meaning of all these providences? In all these undulating lines of life read the philosophy and purpose of heaven regarding human service and destiny. Why these sharp trials, these rains of sorrow, these rivers of grief? Why these bereavements, losses, deprivations, disappointments, surprises? Has the tale no end? Is there no point of fire, no final climax? Is it all tumult, change, gain, loss, pleasure, pain,— on and on, and the last pain the greatest,— the pain of saying farewell before dropping into eternal silence? This cannot be. The question, then, should come to every man when he is seeing visions, hearing voices he never heard before, receiving unexpected and startling visits, What is the meaning of it all? This means action: presently the story will open upon the battle chapter. Surely some of us have had preparation enough. Long since we ought to have been in the thick of the fight, Why all this book-reading? Is there room in the crowded memory for one more volume? Surely we may say to some students, Why continue the bent head, the midnight lamp, the vigil out of season? What is the meaning of all this? The battle waits, or the battle might now begin: the world might turn round and ask, Are you not ready now to speak some gospel word, or at least look some look of hope, lifting upon our weariness eyes that might be as revelations and encouragements. It is weary work to watch how long some men are in putting on their armour. It tires the soul to see how long some men are in whetting the sickle, whilst the white harvest almost withers because of their unaccountable, if not criminal, delay. The critical morning dawned upon the life of Gideon. He took up his new name, having no objection to it. When his fellow-citizens called him Jerubbaal, he said, in effect: So be it: that name expresses my relation to the false god exactly,— namely: "Let Baal strive;" or "Let me be Baal's antagonist:" I yoke a bullock to the god, and drag him down; now let my father's advice be accepted, and let Baal defend his own case. It is wonderful to notice how many of these Old Testament people take their new name with fine grace, as if with deep sense of the fitness of the larger appellation. We, too, are called upon to pass into new names, or new categories: have we done so? Have we been called Christians? Or are we hiding the new faith under the old name, so that the people know not that a change has taken place in our title? "Beloved, now are we the sons of God." Yet some of us have hardly dared to claim and wear the name. If to some there belongs a name of controversy, battle, antagonism, take it up: it suits the times; the world wants warriors. Take the name which God gives you, or which is brought to bear upon you by the order of his providence. When does God give a less name than the old one? He adds a syllable, and thereby adds a destiny: he changes one letter, first or last, and therein changes the course of a lifetime. "Jerubbaal, who is Gideon," took his place at the head of his people, "rose up early." When did the great worker ever rise up late? Early-rising is a necessity of divine vocation. There need be no mechanical arrangement about it. The work is terrific, and the worker is straitened until it be accomplished. There is an impatience that is inspired. Gideon and his people "pitched beside the well of Harod,"— that is, beside the well of "trembling," beside the well of "fear." It is well to begin at that point. Many a man who has begun his work nervously has turned out at the end to be quite a giant. Take heart; you are indeed now at the well of Harod,— at the waters of fear and trembling,— but if you are there on God's business, have no vital fear; you may shake off all fear and pray in the church as a child might pray at home, and fight in the field as consciously called of God to do the work of battle. We must not pour contempt upon men who are nervous, timid, hesitant in their first speech, afraid to pray their first audible prayer. History ought to have taught us a good deal upon such matters. Men who have begun thus have ended in great renown. Everything depends upon our spirit, upon our reliance upon the living God, upon our knowing that the work is not ours but the Lord's. This would seem to have been the course of the divine thought, for "the Lord said unto Gideon, The people that are with thee are too many." They are but thirty-two thousand in all; yet they are too many. But how can they be too many, for the Midianites are a hundred and thirty-five thousand strong? That, said God, is making a human calculation. We get wrong by applying human arithmetic to divine decrees; or we get wrong by trying to measure God's eternity by the tape of our time. He was an inspired man who invented the phrase "for ever and ever." That is the point at which time gives up the race, falls down dead, and lets eternity stand in its nameless mystery. But today we will play the arithmetician, and deal in figures and tables and returns audited and well avouched. When will we, can we, learn that all numbering is with the Lord, and that because the battle is his he will fight it as it pleases him? Israel would make a wrong use of numbers, as most men do. Israel would say, "Mine own hand hath saved me: I was thirty-two thousand strong on that memorable day, and that was force enough to slay the Midianitish power." God will stain the pride of all glory. God will not allow any flesh to glory in his presence. If we are gospel preachers, "we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." Human ambition must be restrained. The so-called law of cause and effect, which has victimised so many men in the spiritual universe, must be upset and contemned. When the Church comes into this temper we shall hear news of victory: God will surprise his trustful Church with tidings of great joy. Two-and-twenty thousand men returned unto their houses because they were fearful and afraid. Do not contemn this cowardice, for it is the very colour and temper of our own time. Many men are bold the day after the battle; many have nearly said the word of courage, the word of just reproof. Are not the greatest numbers most cowardly? In a sense this is true. If they could fight as a crowd they would be partially courageous: but real fight comes to man by man, assault and answer. So two-and-twenty thousand men said, We had better continue in oppression, in slavery, in loss, than challenge these unequal odds. But the Lord said, "The people are yet too many;" and the number was reduced to three hundred men by a very curious and interesting test, namely, the different methods in which water was taken. Are there no such tests now? We suppose that this test has passed away and settled in venerable history, to be occasionally exhumed and wondered about: the particular instance itself may no longer be literally repeated, but the principle that is in it is the principle which is operating in the very men who deny the accuracy of the literal incident itself. Men are chosen now by curious signs. We do not know how we are chosen to any particular work; but it may be found incidentally that some little unexpected circumstance, of which we took no note or heed, determined our being where we are. Men who want servants, lieutenants, allies, co-operative assistants, are looking round; the people upon whom they are looking may be unaware of the critical inspection, but it is proceeding nevertheless. Those who are looking on say, He walks lazily, his gait is lacking in energy; he will never do for my particular work. Or: See how he walks; what fire there is in him; every action is half a battle; he needs but to be put in the right circumstances, and he will turn out a satisfactory man; or: He talks too much; his speech is without pith or regard to the number of its words; he patters and gossips and is cursed with a detestable fluency: listen; he never ceases, he never pauses, he evidently loves to hear himself chatter,— he will never do. Or: He is an excellent listener; he does not commit himself: observe, he never plunges into anything that he cannot fully grasp and comprehend; he looks more than he speaks; not a word escapes that listener: when he does speak there is marrow in his speech; he is young, but he will get over that disadvantage; he shapes well already. This process is going on through all society. Men are noting one another; seeing whether they lie down upon the ground and devour the water, or whether, being men in wise haste and under self-control, they lap it, and pass on. The little local incident has changed, but the principle of curious and even eccentric election is operating in all life, and the men who deny the Bible live over again its most curious instances. Gideon was one of those men who require continual encouragement. It was not enough to say to him once for all, "I will be with thee;" he did not doubt the divine presence: but see how Israel had been weakened, impoverished, crushed, these last seven years by the invasion of the Midianites; see how they dare not thresh their corn in the open field or accessible winepress, but had to beat it out in the concealment of the crags and rocks; observe how Israel had to listen and look to assure himself that no Midianite was looking on before he rubbed out his handful of corn and got it ready for the baking;— then say if a man could instantly become a great religious and courageous character; and then see how loving it was of God to deal with him according to his weakness, to encourage him, little by little to lead him on. Why, this is the Christly spirit: he will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax; he has the tongue of the learned, and can speak a word in season to him that is weary; he will not urge his omnipotence against our nothingness, but will accommodate his approach, and breathe upon us quietly, and send to our sinking spirits a still small voice. So Gideon needed to be encouraged again. The Lord said to him: I have made a man down in the Midianitish camp dream a curious dream; I will so operate upon him that he will begin to talk as it were in a half-sleep: go down and listen. Gideon looked afraid; the Lord noticed the blanched face and said: If thou fear to go down alone, go thou with Phurah thy servant; two may be better than one. This is an anticipation of the time when the Lord sent out his servants "by two and two." Gideon took heart when he was allowed to take a servant with him. "Then went he down with Phurah his servant unto the outside of the armed [the same word is rendered harnessed in Exodus 13:18. The probable meaning is arrayed in divisions] men that were in the host. And the Midianites and the Amalekites and all the children of the east lay along in the valley like grasshoppers [locusts. Compare Numbers 22:4-5] for multitude; and their camels were without number, as the sand by the sea side for multitude" (Judges 7:11-12). When Gideon came near a man told a dream to his neighbour; he said, "Behold, I dreamed a dream, and, lo, a cake of barley bread"— such bread as Israel has been reduced to, the bread of poverty— "tumbled into the host of Midian, and came unto a tent, and smote it that it fell, and overturned it, that the tent lay along." It is an extraordinary dream; what is the meaning of it? The other man had the faculty of interpretation; he said, "This is nothing else save the sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel." Once let the enemy have within him the fear that the opposing host will succeed, and the battle is won. Battles are lost and won in the soul. The Church has feared, and the Church has lost. The battle opened. Israel, represented by three hundred men, did according to the instructions of Gideon:— "When I blow with a trumpet, I and all that are with me, then blow ye the trumpets also on every side of all the camp, and say, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon,"— and that will correspond in instructive harmony with the dream which I have overheard; the name of Gideon has entered into the speech of the Midianites; associate that name with this great battle, and say, "The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon." So the battle opened. "And the three companies blew the trumpets, and brake the pitchers, and held the lamps in their left hands, and the trumpets in their right hands to blow withal: and they cried, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon;" and as the torches were shaken in the air, for they were torches rather than what we understand as lamps, and as the sound came from every quarter at once, Midian was afraid, and Midian was destroyed. Make the most of yourselves. You are but three hundred, but symbolically you are all heaven. This manner of assaulting the enemy is no dramatic manner, no pretence or affectation; this is a battle which is being fought on divine principles: therefore, if three hundred men seem to be three millions, they are such, multiplied by themselves and multiplied by infinity in their symbolical and representative capacity. Gideon took princes that day, even "Oreb and Zeeb," the Raven and the Wolf. The heads of the raven and the wolf were brought to Gideon on the other side Jordan,— see him with the one in one hand and the other in the other. It was an old and barbarous plan to bring the head of the enemy to the hand of the conqueror. It is not a thing to be reproduced or countenanced by Christanised civilisation; but it was the ancient mode of warfare, and must be judged by the morality of the age. This is typical. "Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength? "He has trodden the winepress alone. He is mighty to save; he is mighty also to destroy. "His enemies will I clothe with shame: but upon himself shall his crown flourish." In this faith all Christians live and work, serve and suffer, and, blessed be God, the inspiration is in us also. Men call themselves by symbolical names, as Midian was called "the Raven," but God's hand is in the heavens, and the air shall be cleansed of his enemies:— "the Wolf," but God's eyes are in the forest and the jungle and the wilderness, and he will destroy the ravenous beast. Men have called themselves by ideal and typical names, as the "Gracchi"— the jackdaws. This entry is longer than a Bible module can hold. The rest is at https://www.sermonindex.net/commentary/pb/ Gideon Judges 6-8AT the close of the song of Deborah "the land had rest forty years." The sixth chapter begins with the usual black line:— "And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord." These comings and goings of evil in human history seem to be fated. Men never get so clear away from evil as never to come back again to it; at any moment the course of life may be reversed, and the altar, the vow, the song, and the prayer may be forgotten like vanished summers. This makes the reading of human history a weary toil. We have only to turn over a leaf, and the saints who have been singing are as active as ever in evil. It would be difficult to believe this if we did not know it to be true. This Bible-history is indeed our own history written before the time. Our life seems to be spent upon a short ladder, in going up, in coming down: in going up to pray, in coming down to sin, and drying the tears of penitence; and climbing again, and then coming down; miles short of heaven. The weariness is not in the literature— it is in the fact. We are many men: when we would do good, evil is present with us; when we would do evil, the angel looks at us and reproaches our purpose. The history of Israel is the history of the world. Israel was given over to the hand of the Midianites seven years. This was not, as in the former case, an oppression; it was an attack. In our last study we saw Israel oppressed; here we see a foreign invasion, crowding upon the land inhabited by Israel. Whether in this way or in that, God will not let the battle end until he has punished evil and destroyed it. He is continuing the same policy now. Seated in the heavens, he is watching the earth as if it were the only world he had,— blessing the good, punishing the evil, threatening everything that is of another nature than his own, and keeping perdition for those only who must inevitably be lost. In the olden times there were oppressions, invasions, assaults, and the like; today Providence seems to be operating by subtler methods, but always operating to the same end: to punish the evil, and bless the good. A very vivid picture is given of the state of Israel in chapter Judges 6:2. Israel was dwelling in "the dens which are in the mountains, and caves, and strong holds." The proud and princely Israel was burrowing in the torrent gullies, instead of building cities that should have lifted their towers and spires like ascending psalms to the approving heavens. Think of it well! It is the same today. Men who might have been in the thoroughfare are hidden away in some distressing obscurity. Men who ought to have been foremost are left so far behind they can hardly be seen,— dim spectres in the far-away distance. The Midianites were coming up like locusts. No sooner did the Israelites sow their seed than the Midianites had their eye upon it; and it was only by strategy, cunning almost surpassingly human, that Israel could save a handful of corn for itself. Israel was "impoverished." A very remarkable word is that. It means that they were like a door swinging on broken hinges. Israel, the redeemed people, Israel without whom there might have been no history, Israel had so sinned as to be at last like a door swinging on hinges that were broken: the door could not be shut, the door was no security, the door was a perpetual irony, yea, a daily reproach and taunt. There is a poverty that is the result of what we call misfortune; that is to be pitied and to be assisted: there is a poverty that is only the social and punitive side of sin; that is to be recognised as such— a black blot on the snow of God's holiness, a sad brand on the righteousness of things. Or the figure may be changed, for it is a double one. Israel was like a sear leaf, just hanging by one frail thread to the branch, all the juice gone, all the beautiful green dead for ever, all possibility of fruitfulness exhausted; and there hung great Israel, a leaf— sear, yellow, dead, just hanging to drop! We must realise this condition of things before we can understand the arduousness of the mission of Gideon. If we do not understand the situation we cannot understand Gideon's distress, hesitation, hopelessness. The times were out of joint. All things beautiful were dead. The whole time was given over to idolatry. There was but one man who kept to the true faith, and he seemed to worship in secret; he alone was not swallowed up in the great idolatrous passion; his father had gone religiously astray, but he himself still thought of old histories, and had in him flickering, but, oh, quite dyingly, some hope of returning faith. Then came the inevitable "cry ":— "The children of Israel cried unto the Lord" (Judges 6:6). It was a mean prayer. Some cries must not be answered; they are unworthy screams or utterances of selfish desire. The Lord will not be too critical about these "cries," for who then could stand before him and hope for any thing from his hand? What prayer is there worth being heard, not to say worth being answered? Search it, probe it, and what is it but religious selfishness— a plea for self? But men must pray as best they can. We cannot expect perfect prayers from imperfect men. In the cry there may be something which God can hear to which he will make response. But prayers are not answered, because they are not prayers; they are self-excuses, self-pleadings, desires inspired by selfishness: so they are narrow, shortsighted, out of the rhythm of the music of the universe, notes that cannot be smoothed into the general utterance of the divine purpose; they may do the suppliant good by heightening his veneration or exciting within him some inexpressible desires, but as words they fall back again like birds whose wings have been broken. Israel cried unto the Lord. What was the divine answer to that cry? It was a prophet. Jewish legend says it was Phinehas, son of Eleazar. The prayer was answered by a man:— "The Lord sent a prophet unto the children of Israel" (Judges 6:8). A "prophet" is a teacher, a man who sees the largest relations of things, one who lives above the cloud and can see what is going on underneath it; a seer, a man of penetrating vision, a man whose eyes are within, and from whom God has hidden nothing of wisdom, grace, purpose, and issue. The age must be prepared for its prophets. When the age is haughty, self-contented, self-idolatrous, prophets go for nothing; they are the object of sneering remark; they may be caricatured, they may be turned into food for merriment; but when the age becomes like a door swinging on broken hinges, or like a sear and yellow leaf when all hope has died out of it, then men ask if there be not a prophet, or one who can pray— a seer who can penetrate beyond appearances and discover germs of life or hints of hope? It was so now. The prophet came, and delivered a judicial speech:— "Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, I brought you up from Egypt, and brought you forth out of the house of bondage; and I delivered you out of the hand of the Egyptians, and out of the hand of all that oppressed you, and drave them out from before you, and gave you their land; and I said unto you, I am the Lord your God; fear not the gods of the Amorites [the Amorites were the highlanders of Palestine, and as they were the strongest of all the Canaanitish tribes they are often spoken of as representing or including the whole of them], in whose land ye dwell: but ye have not obeyed my voice" (Judges 6:8-10). Here you find a reminder,— that is to say, a reference to history. Memory was awakened and turned upon the days that had gone, God works through recollection. Marvellous are the miracles which God works by the power of memory: memory goes back, and brings to mind things forgotten, uses them in the light of today, observes their action upon the circumstances which make up the immediate present; and oftentimes a man needs no hotter hell than an awakened and stimulated memory. The recollection was followed by a reproof:— "But ye have not obeyed my voice," saying in effect: I have not changed; I was continuing the line; my purpose was one of deliverance and success and honour for Israel, but ye failed in obedience: first you became reluctant, hesitant, then weary, then you complained of monotony, then you said the yoke galled your shoulders, then you fell clean away, then you built Asherah and worshipped Baal; this is the reason of all that has come upon you; blame yourselves: for men who fall away from the road of obedience fail of the heaven of blessedness. All this is intelligible. We have been accustomed to these reminding and accusing voices ourselves, and we do not hear in them anything that startles our reason or taxes our faith. Now the prophet is succeeded by an angel. A most mysterious instance occurs, challenging our faith in its loftiest moods. Gideon was threshing wheat by the winepress, to hide it from the Midianites. He was in a little sheltered corner, not daring to use a flail, perhaps, lest the beat of it should attract the attention of some listening Midianite; Gideon was almost rubbing the wheat between his hands. He was in a little cave rather than in a winepress, which is hardly the literal translation. He was in a corner by himself, rubbing out the wheat which he had industriously sown, painfully watched, and honestly gathered. It was weary work for Gideon. He felt that he was a prisoner, almost stealing his own bread. This is not unknown to ourselves. Men sometimes have to hide their food from their own relations. Some men dare not even seem to be prosperous, because they know what havoc would be wrought by those who have been watching their honourable and successful labours. Men sometimes have to hide themselves from their own flesh, and to rub out their little handful of wheat behind some sheltering crag. Some men are bound to look poor, because they know they would be fleeced and robbed. Is that not strictly according to our own personal experience? This is the picture presented by the position and action of Gideon [hewer]: a hidden man, doing an honest work in the quietest possible way, only thankful if he can get his wheat turned into bread to satisfy his hunger. Watch Gideon, the one religious man of the place and time. If any one were to come from heaven now, he would come to Gideon. Like descends upon like. "And there came an angel of the Lord, and sat under an oak which was in Ophrah [in Western Manasseh], that pertaineth unto Joash the Abi-ezrite." For a time the angel was silent. How will he speak to a weary man? He will say to him: Poor laden one, this is sad work for Israel; poor weary Gideon, I am sorry for thee in my heart; Gideon, thou shouldst have been out in the open air swinging thy flail and separating the chaff from the wheat right cheerfully and hopefully— poor Gideon! Such sympathy would have overborne the man; it would have been the one drop that would have made the cup of his sorrow overflow. No, there must be sharp reaction; a note must be struck that will awaken the man wholly: he must not continue his dream-trouble, he must have his sleep driven away. What said the angel? "The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour." The speech seemed to be ironical. Gideon had about him the look as to weariness of a man who was exhausted. But he was a king, and he had a kingly presence, a face that only needed to be awakened to answer the angel's own in the likeness of kinship. There was no fairer man than Gideon in all the land; the make of him was a miracle of God. When he stretched himself right out to his full compass and looked his best self, one could understand how it was that he had "faithful among the faithless been," and had kept Jehovah's altar even amid the riot of the Baal-worshippers. Who shall say there is no kinship between angels and men? Who has wisdom enough to declare that there is no connection between the spiritual life or lives of the universe? It is not only a higher faith but a nobler reason which would say: All we, men, women, children, angels, spirits of the blessed, are one, warmed with one fire, radiant with one glory, expectant of one destiny. We cannot settle anything about this angel that is definite and final. What do we know that is at all of the nature of counterpart? We know something about unexpected meetings, strangers speaking to us, and yet so speaking that we know them,— speaking to us in our mother tongue, speaking to us words which we have wanted to hear but dare scarcely speak to ourselves; people making beginnings which have had happy endings;— that we know right well. We know something of unforeseen opportunities: the cloud has suddenly opened, and we have seen where we were. Clouds often do open quite suddenly. We have seen the mariner watching for the sun for days: the mariner is ready, his glass is in his hand; if there be but one little rift in that great cloud, he will avail himself of the opportunity to know where the sun is that he may know where his ship is. A rift has come, a sudden chance; it was but a moment, a glimpse, but in that moment there was communication between earth and heaven. So far we are upon familiar ground. We know something of unaccountable impressions also; and sometimes we utter prayers that angels might have inspired, for the prayers have surprised ourselves and made sudden Sabbath in the midst of the tumultuous week. If then we know something of unexpected meetings, unforeseen opportunities, and unaccountable impressions, we seem to be not far from the angel vision, the angel touch. When Gideon heard the angel's message, he said, in a tone we cannot reproduce, a tone made credulous by incredulity, yet with some resonance of strength in its very halting and shaking,— a tone representing a strange struggle between hopelessness and faith, experience and possibility,— "Oh, sir"— for the term Gideon used in the first instance was but a term of courtesy and not a title of religious veneration— "Oh, sir, if the Lord be with us"— but the angel did not say so; the angel said "thee." Who can listen critically? Who can distinguish between person and number in the grammar of an angel?̶ "Oh, sir, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? [see Deuteronomy 21:17] and where be all his miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt? but now the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites" (Judges 6:13). It was a right answer so far. It was better that Gideon should know the exact circumstances. "To know ourselves diseased is half the cure." Gideon must not have any false hopes. He must not be taking up any broken splinters of wood and saying: These splinters will be swords which we shall thrust through the bows of the enemy. It is well that he is driven into obscurity, that he is made to do his work with the utmost quietness, that he is compelled to act almost as a thief on the threshold of his own house. To be down so far is to be in that darkness which oft precedes the dawn. What did the angel do? The angel did two things. (1) He "looked." Who can interpret that word? Some biblical words must remain without interpretation. Sometimes in translating books from foreign languages into our own we are obliged to quote certain words and let them remain untranslated; we hover over them, point to them, give clumsy paraphrases of their possible meaning, but think it better after all to set down the word itself, for it has no equivalent in our own language. It must be so with this word "look." That look begat attention, inspired confidence, elevated thought, stimulated veneration, and looked Gideon into a new man. There are looks which do so. There is one look which is yet to do this in all the fulness of its meaning: the day is to come when we shall be like Christ, for we shall see him as he is. These are spiritual looks that we read of in the Old Testament, and that we have experience of in the current of our own lives. (2) The angel, however, not only looked but "said"— changed his tone, used human speech, addressed the man in his mother tongue. He said, "Go in this thy might, and thou shalt save Israel from the hand of the Midianites: have not I sent thee?" (Judges 6:14). But Gideon was astounded, and said in effect: Impossible— "Oh, my Lord, wherewith shall I save Israel? behold, my family [my thousand] is poor [the meanest] in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house" (Judges 6:15). This is quite in the line of biblical history. Sarah "laughed" when the angel said that she should be the mother of one who should be supreme in history; Moses was shocked when he was told that he, a wandering, stammering shepherd, should face the Pharaohs of Egypt and demand justice to Israel; Paul was amazed that he should be chosen for great missions of deliverance. Speaking of Gideon, the quaint commentator Trapp says: "He was well-descended, but had mean thoughts of himself. True worth is modest. Moses had distributed the people into thousands as Alfred did the English into shires, hundreds, and tenths, or tithings, whereof the ancientest were called the tithing men." Such was Gideon's view of himself and his chiliad, or thousand. But there is the accusing and stimulating question: "Have not I sent thee?" accusing men of unfaith in a tone that stimulates them to seize their grandest opportunities. Are there not new births? Are there not vivid realisations? Are there not new selves? Behold, the angel must confirm his own message and vindicate his own revelation. What is the application of all this to ourselves in addition to what has already been said? Are we not often hopeless? We say Jesus Christ is in a minority. Put down the great leaders of the world's religions, and Jesus Christ must statistically take his place near the bottom of the list. That is the arithmetical condition of affairs today. Even if every man in the church be a sound man, yet, reckoning up the sum-total, the figures often sink into insignificance. But are there not these two great lessons lying upon the very face of the history, namely, that we grow in social power as we grow in spiritual consciousness? Just as Gideon saw the angel and was conscious of a divine presence did he grow in social power. He was warmed into a larger self. It is when we see God most clearly that all difficulties vanish from our sight. See God, and you need behold no other sight to make the soul majestic and clothe the life with social beneficence. Fear God, and have no other fear. Be sure that the heavens are with you, then be confident that the harvests of the earth will he gathered even to the last grain of wheat, and the enemy shall not prevail in any degree. Then there is a second lesson lying upon the same line, namely, that we need not be socially great to be spiritually useful. Gideon said, "Behold, my family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house." "Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;" and anything but blessed are they who say, "We are rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing,"— knowing not that they are poor, and blind, and miserable, and naked. It is like God to choose the poorest tribe and the poorest man in the tribe. When did God change that plan? When did he vary that mysterious policy? Is it not that no flesh may glory in his presence? Not many wise, great, mighty, noble are called, but God has chosen the weak things to trouble the strong,— yea, things which are not— things which seem to have no existence— to bring to nought things that are: ghostly ministries operating upon material fortresses, spiritual agencies crumbling down temples in the night-time, mysterious influences rending the mighty and bringing down that which is high. Selected Note Palestine, which is only about the size of Wales, and was still largely held by the former inhabitants, was subdivided by the Hebrews into many tribal governments, as England in the Saxon period was broken up into Essex, Wessex, Mercia, Kent, Sussex, and several other kingdoms; and was, hence, in constant danger of inroad and subjugation. To the nomadic tribes of the desert, which stretched to the borders of the land on the east and south, the valleys of Gilead and Bashan, and the fertile plains of Central Canaan, were an irresistible temptation, stretching out as they did like paradises of green, before eyes wearied with the yellow sand or dry barrenness of the wilderness. Israel itself, when only so many wandering tribes, had forced a way into these oases, and had held them, and there seemed no reason why other races should not, like them, exchange the desert for a home so fair, at least during the summer and harvest of each year, by overpowering Israel in turn. The forty years' rest after Deborah's triumph was rudely broken by inroads excited in this hope. A great confederation of the Arab tribes, like that which, at an earlier day, had given the Shepherd Kings to Egypt, poured into Palestine. Midianites, Amalekites, and all "the children of the east," far and near, in countless numbers, with immense trains of camels, and of cattle, and flocks, streamed up the steep wadys from the fords of Jordan, and swept all resistance before them, from Esdraelon, on the north, to Gaza, on the extreme south. No sooner had the fields been sown each year, than these wild hordes reappeared, covering the hill pastures and the fertile valleys, in turn, with their tents; driving off every sheep, or goat, or ox, or ass, they could find, and seizing all hoards of grain they could discover, saved from the few fields that had escaped destruction by their endless flocks and herds. No visitation could be more terrible, for there was neither food nor live stock left in the land. Fire and sword spread terror on every side; desperate resistance by isolated bands of Hebrews only led to the massacre of these brave defenders of their homes, and at last safety and even existence seemed possible only by the population taking refuge in the numerous caves of the hills, and in strongholds on hill tops. —Geikie.Prayer Almighty God, come to us as thou wilt— a great fire, or a great wind, or a still small voice. We shall know thee when thou comest, for we are akin to thee; thou didst make us and put thy name upon us. We are fearfully and wonderfully made; we are a continual surprise unto ourselves: sometimes we are self-afraid; sometimes we are tempted to be as gods. Now we know ourselves to be but men, and we sigh about our frailty, and say we are as a withering leaf, as a speck of dust blown about by the wind, a vapour that cometh for a little time and then vanisheth away; then in some other mood, created by thyself, we lay our hands upon all heaven and claim it as an inheritance in Christ Jesus, saying, This is the meaning of his blood, this is the true interpretation of his Cross,— glory, honour, immortality; service without weariness, worship accompanied by growing knowledge, trust in God untroubled by a doubt. Whether we are in this mood, or that, low down or high up, moaning about our littleness or rejoicing in our spiritual sonship, take not thy Holy Spirit from us: Holy Spirit, dwell with us! As for these varying tempers and conditions of ours, are we not still prisoners of time, bondmen of the flesh? Are we not oppressed by circumstances we cannot control? But of all these we shall presently be rid, and then we shall claim thy great creation for the development of our powers, for the continuance and consummation of our worship. For all high religious feeling we bless thee; for all sweet Christian hope we thank thee: whilst the angel of hope shines within us and sings its sweet song of heaven, we know nothing of death or of restraint or of littleness; we are already in the celestial world mingling companionlike with the angels. Read thy book to us thyself, with thine own voice, in thine own tone, and the tone shall be explanation: we shall know what thou meanest when we hear thine own voice. Above all things give to us the seeing eye, the hearing ear, and the understanding heart, when we come into the sanctuary of revelation, lest we exalt ourselves and say our own right-hand hath gotten us what spiritual prey we have: rather would we say, This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes,— is not his love a continual wonder? Is not his grace a perpetual revelation? Hold us, Mighty One, today and to-morrow, and on the third day perfect us. Amen. Gideon— (Continued) Judges 6-8WHEN the angel "looked" at Gideon the good man's heart was troubled, and yet his hope was revived. His faith went so far that he would submit to receive some test and proof that the angel was in very deed the messenger of God. It is something to have got so far along the road of the better land; anything in this direction is better than deafness, blindness, and utter indifference. Gideon said, "If now I have found grace in thy sight, then show me a sign that thou talkest with me" (Judges 6:17). According to the laws of Oriental hospitality, Gideon withdrew to prepare refreshment for his wondrous visitor:— "Depart not hence, I pray thee, until I come unto thee, and bring forth my present, and set it before thee." And the angel said, "I will tarry until thou come again." "Gideon went in, and made ready a kid, and unleavened cakes of an ephah of flour:"— unleavened bread being more easily-prepared than any other— "the flesh he put in a basket, and he put the broth in a pot, and brought it out unto him under the oak, and presented it." The angel said, "Take the flesh and the unleavened cakes, and lay them upon this rock, and pour out the broth." And Gideon did so. "Then the angel of the Lord put forth the end of the staff that was in his hand, and touched the flesh and the unleavened cakes; and there rose up fire out of the rock, and consumed the flesh and the unleavened cakes. Then the angel of the Lord departed out of his sight" (Judges 6:21). Now there came a practical test to be applied to Gideon. Sooner or later that test comes to every man. If we put God to the test, what if God should in his turn put us also upon our trial? The test to which Gideon was about to be put was a practical one. As the foreign invasion of Midian was traceable to Israel's evil-doing, so the beginning of the divine deliverance must be moral, spiritual, and religious. That same night the Lord said to Gideon: Take thy father's young bullock, even the second bullock of seven years old, attach it to the altar of Baal by rope or iron, and drag it down. That was a negative beginning. We must get down the old altar before we put up the new one. "And"— when thou hast done this— "build an altar unto the Lord thy God upon the top of this rock, in the ordered place [build an altar with the wood laid in order]; and take the second bullock, and offer a burnt sacrifice with the wood of the grove which thou shalt cut down" (Judges 6:26). Gideon made one reservation. We do not wonder that he should have done so. He said, in effect: I cannot do this in the daytime; I will do it by night.— Who can blame him? Who will call him coward? It was a natural device. Men cannot be courageous all at once. Some men need to be trained and nursed into courage; be gentle with them, patient and hopeful,— who can spring into lionhood all in one sudden moment? "Gideon took ten men of his own," rather than "ten men of his servants," and pulled down Baal's altar by night. When night gives up her history, it may be found that many a man has attempted to begin a better life under the cover of darkness. We should not taunt men for want of boldness in spiritual things; sometimes they are bolder than we have imagined them to be: they may even have attempted to pray aloud when no one was present. That is a trial of a man's spiritual sincerity. It is not every man who can listen to his own voice in prayer and continue the supplication with any composure. A man's first audible prayer might smite himself down as by a great thunder-stroke: the voice seems so loud, the exercise so audacious; it is as if the universe had halted to hear the new appeal. Who shall say that men who are dumb in church have not tried in darkness and in loneliness to sing some little hymn of praise when they were quite unheard? Who knows what papers have been written, what plans of battle have been drawn up, at night-time, wherein men said they would certainly begin at this point, or at that point, to renounce a companionship, to change a custom, to release themselves from the tyranny of a habit: next time they would say No to the invitation which sought to seduce them to evil-doing. Who is not courageous when he is alone? Who is not most eloquent when there is none to hear him? We must not, therefore, fall foul upon the memory of Gideon and charge him with want of courage. But the morning came. What the city then saw! The cathedral, so to say, was pulled down! When the men of the city arose early in the morning they missed the altar and the Asherah, "and they said to one another, Who hath done this thing?" And inquiry resulted in the information that Gideon the son of Joash had done it. "Then the men of the city said unto Joash, Bring out thy son, that he may die: because he hath cast down the altar of Baal, and because he hath cut down the grove that was by it" (Judges 6:30). Joash was not a born Baal-worshipper; the foreign religion sat uneasily upon him. He had inwardly no great respect for Baal; outwardly he was addicted to his worship, but really he had serious misgivings about Baal's godhead. What if all idolators be afflicted with the same scepticism? Scepticism does not grow in the Church with relation to the true God alone; unbelievers in the true religion have scepticism often with regard to their own: they cannot tell what to make of their dumb gods; they have great philosophies about them, but no direct consequence comes of it all; so when an assault is made upon them the resistance is but reluctant or careless. Joash was a wise man; he said: Men of the city, hear me: my son has torn down the altar of Baal; if Baal be a god in very deed let him avenge the wrong himself; do not you interfere as to Baal's sovereignty and godhead: in so far as Baal is a true god he will see to it that the man who insulted his altar shall be punished for his sacrilege and audacity. The men thought this was a good answer, and they accepted it. This is the challenge of the God of the Bible. God is always challenging the false gods to come forward and show what they can do. God mocks them, taunts them, tells them they are nothing,— says they are things made out of iron and stone and wood, and not a single thought is in their carved heads. This is the challenge of Elijah; said he, "The God that answereth by fire, let him be God," whatever his name be; this is not a test of names, forms, ceremonies, dogmas: if Baal be God, let us all worship him, and if the Lord be God, let us bow down in adoration before him:— "the God that answereth by fire, let him be God." The position taken up by Joash is the position we should all take up with regard to religious things. Let God defend himself. The Christian religion is never so humiliated as when men attempt to defend it. God needeth not to be ministered unto by men's hands; nor does he require the patronage of trained intellect and swift and eager mind. God is continually vindicating himself in his providence. God's appeal is: Look at the world; look at it in great breadths of time; not in a handful of days, or in a nameable measure of months, but look at it in the light of centuries; give yourselves field of vision enough; look at the distribution of men, and the distribution of all natural products; consider the occasion well: see what boundaries are set, see what issues are inevitable, observe how ambition is cut in two at a certain point, and must begin again to raise its shattered head; watch all the ebb and flow of civilisation; observe keenly as well as widely; and if providence be not its own vindication, it is useless for any man, however swift of thought or copious in expression, to attempt to vindicate what the facts themselves do not support. Christian teaching will be strong in proportion as it takes this ground. We are not engaged in matters that can be settled by words. We look abroad and see a law operating— a law of restraint, a law of culture, a law of rewards and punishments; we try to check it, modify it, avert it, but it comes on with quiet irresistibleness— an infinite force: who can ascend beyond a certain height? or who can descend without being suffocated? Who can stretch himself out so as to touch the horizon? and who has not chafed as Job chafed when he said, "Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?" If a man would take this wide vision, and bring into focus all these infinite relations, let him look carefully at his own life; let him, as it were, write his own story in his own language, and see how the chapters fall into happy sequence. See what training the man has had, what narrow escapes, what afflictions, what deliverances,— how disappointments have been turned into the roots of prosperity, and how the grim discouraging negative has been the beginning of boldest and most successful endeavour; and when the reviewer has concluded his retrospect, let him say if he can, "All this was of chance, and luck, and incalculable fortune." Gideon, however, was punished by the people in some degree. The people must interfere a little, even in the case of avenging insults offered to Baal. So they called Gideon by a new name,— they called him "Jerubbaal." The least one can do is to give a reformer a nickname. If we may not smite him, we may at least throw some appellation at him which we hope the enemy will take up and use as a sting or a thong. So Gideon was called Jerubbaal— literally, "Baal's antagonist": let Baal strive, let Baal take up his own cause; Gideon is the man who has defied the gods. That was not a severe punishment for the beginning of a revolution. The name itself was taken up afterwards and sanctified. There is nothing the enemy can do that God cannot turn into happy issues. Now came the open conflict:— "Then all the Midianites and the Amalekites and the children of the east were gathered together, and went over, and pitched in the valley of Jezreel" (Judges 6:33). They were there first. They said, They will be well off who are soonest in the field. What had Gideon to present in reply to this tremendous muster? The story reads well at this point: "But the Spirit of the Lord came upon Gideon," and he was a thousand men in himself. Inspired, he knew no fear; the tabernacle of the living God, he trembled not before the wind and the tempest. We need inspired men, mad men, enthusiasts, men who know not whether they are fasting or feasting, men who use the world as not abusing it, who hold every thing lightly but their trust from the living God. Gideon "blew a trumpet; and Abi-ezer"— his little flock— "was gathered after him. And he sent messengers throughout all Manasseh"— the people of the tribe— "who also was gathered after him: and he sent messengers unto Asher"— who once proved faithless— "and unto Zebulun, and unto Naphtali"— who had won immortal fame in the battle last fought by Israel— "and they came up to meet them" (Judges 6:34-35). Spiritual endowment is power. It is of no consequence how many swords the Church has if it has not the living God: "Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword." Christ's kingdom is not of this world: it is a kingdom of thought, feeling, love, sacrifice; be true to that spirit, and none can stand before you. Now Gideon became afraid again, and must therefore be encouraged by another sign from heaven. We must not blame him. He is not the less earnest that he wants to be assured that he is right. Gideon invented a little test for God:— "Behold, I will put a fleece of wool in the floor; and if the dew be on the fleece only, and it be dry upon all the earth beside, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said" (Judges 6:37). Did God reply? God accommodated himself to human weakness as he has always done. Gideon arose early in the morning, "and thrust the fleece together, and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water" (Judges 6:38). ["Wool, as a good radiator of heat, would, under ordinary conditions, receive a plentiful deposit of dew, but so would the surrounding grass and soil. The second miracle was still more remarkable, inferior radiators receiving dew, when a better radiator, wool, remained dry."] Gideon was half persuaded: Now, said he, if the reverse process can be completed, I shall be strong in faith, giving glory to God:— "Let not thine anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this once: let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece and upon all the ground let there be dew. And God did so that night: for it was dry upon the fleece only, and there was dew on all the ground" (Judges 6:39-40). ["The double sign in connection with the fleece, which Gideon asked of God, is an illustration of a tendency in him to ask for signs: and nothing could be more ingenious, nothing more satisfactory, than the alternate wetting by dew of the fleece and of the whole ground. Possibly he was led to use such boldness in repeated pleadings with God, by the example of Abraham's repeated requests when interceding for Sodom (Genesis 18:23-33). And he may have asked for the dew first to concentrate on the fleece, then to spread out over the ground, as he saw how the grace bestowed first upon himself, was spreading out over Israel." —Douglas.] We may not set these fancy tests. They were proper enough at the time when Gideon applied them. The day was not then so far advanced; it was quite early morning, grey twilight, and men did not see clearly, so they asked for much assistance to their vision; and God graciously answered them. Even in apostolic days the freak of the lottery was tried, and we hear but little of the happy consequences which flowed from the adventure. We have nothing to do with putting tests for God now. Why? It would seem a natural and beautiful thing to say, as Gideon said, If the fleece be wet, or if all the earth be wet, and the fleece be dry, then God is with me, and the right way is open before mine eyes. Why may we not submit God to these tests? because the day is far advanced. This is the age of the Spirit, the age of true spiritual or religious faith. We have now to be guided by those inward and spiritual convictions which often have no words for their adequate and precise expression. We are to be students of providence. Providence itself is a succession of trials, tests, proofs. We are to see how things go, to watch their origin, sequence, consummation. We are to get rid of the superstition that life is a series of isolated incidents. Instead of being right in this particular case, or that, we ourselves are to be right, and all these things shall be regulated for us. The man who is anxious to know merely detailed right has not entered into the Spirit of Christ. He is a man who would keep a book regarding himself, and separate or distribute his life into independent lines and items. That is the Baal we must cast down,— the Baal of being right in instances, in mere details, and writing a little maxim-bible of our own. What, then, is the great aim of Providence today? To make right men, to create new and clean hearts and spirits, to make the soul right. Is that represented to us in any formal, quotable words? Surely:— "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." Expand that thought, and what happens but this great philosophy of life, namely: Be right in your soul, be right in your purpose, have a single eye, do not be playing a double game; "do justly, and love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God; "and as for the details of this opening life, they will fall into great laws of divine Providence, and will be ministers of grace to the trusting soul. What an insidious sophism lurks in this thinking, namely, that if we could have lotteries by which to test individual actions we could not go wrong. So long as you are meddling with individual actions, and trying to be guided by a kind of travelling time-bill, you cannot be right. Here is the distinctive glory of Christ's religion. "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." The man does not say, What shall I eat; what shall I drink; wherewithal shall I be clothed; what shall I do to-morrow; and on the second day how shall I be occupied; and in what spirit shall I encounter such and such a possible occasion? That is to live a little life,— to split up, and separate, and individualise, and to act cleverly, not religiously. Life is not to be a system of scheming, managing, arranging, balancing, outwitting those who are half-blind, outrunning those who are cripples or unable to run; life is a religion, a consecration, a spiritual sacrifice, a continual living in the sight and fear and love of God; that being granted, all the rest comes in musical sequence, everything else conies and goes by a rhythm divine in its swing and throb. Foolish are the men who want to be right in particular instances, who desire above all things not to be outwitted on set occasions. There was a time in human history when such desires were natural and wholly seasonable, but that time is not now; for Christ is amongst us, and says to us: Children, be the children of your Father in heaven; be ye holy, as your Father in heaven is holy; be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect; trust your Father, little flock; be not disheartened; live in your Father's good pleasure: seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all details will settle themselves. Why, who would kindle a little fire in his own field to dissolve the snow, and say he will have at least a little garden there? Is the great snow to be broken up into patches in that way, and are we to have little summers and little forces of nature, and little clever attempts to grow something under the most discouraging circumstances? Do not interfere with God's law in that way. God will send a south wind and a warm sun, and the snow will flee away. There must be a great astronomic movement— a high, mighty far-reaching movement, a change of atmosphere: and that will drive back the winter, and in due time "throw a primrose on the bank in pledge of victory." So must it be with the winter-bound heart of man. It is not by lighting little fires here and there so as to warm great feeling, or create a momentary benevolence, or rise into a temporary ecstasy; the Spirit of the living God must descend upon the whole man, must take possession of the heart; and, reigning there, ruling there, working out the mystery of inspiration there, all the life shall bud and blossom, and be gracious and hospitable as summer. This is the better plan; this is the grander philosophy of life. We do not pronounce judgment upon Gideon in any adverse terms; he did what he could. God smiled upon his infantile endeavours; the great day of spiritual inspiration had not then fully come. Gideon's purpose was to know whether God was with him. The purpose is eternal— the method of discovery was temporary. Let us also know whether God is with us, not in this particular case, or in that particular case, but whether God is with us in very deed within, ruling the mind, and heart, and will, and judgment of the whole soul; and then if we go downhill, it will be downhill on the highlands: even the valleys are lifted up in these great heights; and if we do stumble, we shall rise again— yea, though we fall seven times, the eighth endeavour shall bring us home. He who lives upon any other principle lives a sharper's life,— often very clever, often very skilful, a good deal may be said in defence of it as to particular instances and individual successes, but he is a charlatan, an empiric, an adventurer; he is setting traps for God, and fancy devices wherein to entangle the Eternal. The great life— the grand, true, simple life— is to be in Christ, in God, as to thought, feeling, purpose: then let the days bring with them what they may, all their bringing will be overruled and sanctified, and even our very faults shall help us in our higher education. Selected Note "Cast down the altar of Baal" (Judges 6:30).— The word ba'al, as it signifies lord, master, is a generic term for god in many of the Syro-Arabian languages. As the idolatrous nations of that race had several gods, this word, by means of some accessory distinction, became applicable as a name to many different deities. Baal is appropriated to the chief male divinity of the Phoenicians, the principal seat of whose worship was at Tyre. The idolatrous Israelites adopted the worship of this god (almost always in conjunction with that of Ashtoreth) in the period of the Judges (Judges 2:13); they continued it in the reigns of Ahaz and Manasseh, kings of Judah (2 Chronicles 28:2; 2 Kings 21:3); and among the kings of Israel, especially in the reign of Ahab, who, partly through the influence of his wife, the daughter of the Sidonian king Ethbaal, appears to have made a systematic attempt to suppress the worship of God altogether, and to substitute that of Baal in its stead (1 Kings 16:31); and in that of Hoshea (2 Kings 17:16), although Jehu and Jehoida once severally destroyed the temples and priesthood of the idol (2 Kings 10:18, sq.; 2 Kings 11:18). Prayer Almighty God, thou hast made the sanctuary a place of explanation: within thy house we understand all that is needful for us to know. Outside of it we cannot tell what things really are; we are in the midst of tumult and strife and anger; wrath and malice and bitterness exclude thy presence, but when we come into the house of God we see in the true light, we know somewhat of thy meaning, we are privileged to behold the outworking of thy purposes, and as we look we wonder, and as we wonder we pray, and our prayer speedily becomes a song of praise, because we see that the Lord reigneth and that the end of things is in his hands. Enable us often to come to the sanctuary. Blessed be thy grace for establishing it, so that now we may say, the tabernacle of God is with men upon the earth; God's house is in the midst of our dwellings. When we come into the sanctuary may we find the spirit of the house there,— the spirit of reverence and love, the spirit that loves the truth and follows after it and will eventually establish it; and being in the spirit in thy house, may thy book appear to us in all its breadth and lustre: wide as the great heaven, brighter than the sun when he shines in his strength; and may our hearts be comforted by the messages which they most need; and if first we must be humbled and chastened, stripped and impoverished, that we may know our right condition, thou wilt not end the process there, but having shown us our blindness and nakedness and wretchedness thou wilt give us fine gold, and ointment wherewith to anoint ourselves, and truth upon truth, until the soul is filled with the riches of Christ. So let it be now and evermore. May the sanctuary be a place of elevation whence we can see afar, and a place of revelation where we can see sights let down from heaven and hear voices meant for our instruction and comfort. To the sanctuary we bring our sin. Here we leave it, because the Cross is here; we may not— need not— take it back with us; for the blood of Jesus Christ thy Son cleanseth from all sin. Here let our sin be crucified; here let our sin be pardoned. This prayer we pray at the Cross; and we tarry at the Cross until the answer come. Amen. Gideon— (Continued) Judges 6-8THERE are critical words in every life, and critical moments. Everything seems to happen all at once,— a curious sense of suddenness affecting the whole life. The word "then," with which the first verse of the seventh chapter opens, marks a critical point of time. How easily the word is written; and how easily said; but all Gideon's life seemed crowded into that ardent moment. So it is with our own lives. We crush the whole life into one day. Or we seem to see for what our whole life has been preparing by the light which shines upon one special moment. The time of battle had come; but the time of battle came in the case of Jerubbaal, as we have seen, after long and singular preparation. All that is happening should be regarded as of the nature of preparation. We should ask ourselves now and again, even amid the monotony of life, What is the meaning of this rest? What is the point of this delay? God always has a purpose, and we ought to find it. Why all this schooling, this long and weary study, this knocking night and day at Wisdom's door? These intellectual inquiries touch the very region of prayer. What is the meaning of all these providences? In all these undulating lines of life read the philosophy and purpose of heaven regarding human service and destiny. Why these sharp trials, these rains of sorrow, these rivers of grief? Why these bereavements, losses, deprivations, disappointments, surprises? Has the tale no end? Is there no point of fire, no final climax? Is it all tumult, change, gain, loss, pleasure, pain,— on and on, and the last pain the greatest,— the pain of saying farewell before dropping into eternal silence? This cannot be. The question, then, should come to every man when he is seeing visions, hearing voices he never heard before, receiving unexpected and startling visits, What is the meaning of it all? This means action: presently the story will open upon the battle chapter. Surely some of us have had preparation enough. Long since we ought to have been in the thick of the fight, Why all this book-reading? Is there room in the crowded memory for one more volume? Surely we may say to some students, Why continue the bent head, the midnight lamp, the vigil out of season? What is the meaning of all this? The battle waits, or the battle might now begin: the world might turn round and ask, Are you not ready now to speak some gospel word, or at least look some look of hope, lifting upon our weariness eyes that might be as revelations and encouragements. It is weary work to watch how long some men are in putting on their armour. It tires the soul to see how long some men are in whetting the sickle, whilst the white harvest almost withers because of their unaccountable, if not criminal, delay. The critical morning dawned upon the life of Gideon. He took up his new name, having no objection to it. When his fellow-citizens called him Jerubbaal, he said, in effect: So be it: that name expresses my relation to the false god exactly,— namely: "Let Baal strive;" or "Let me be Baal's antagonist:" I yoke a bullock to the god, and drag him down; now let my father's advice be accepted, and let Baal defend his own case. It is wonderful to notice how many of these Old Testament people take their new name with fine grace, as if with deep sense of the fitness of the larger appellation. We, too, are called upon to pass into new names, or new categories: have we done so? Have we been called Christians? Or are we hiding the new faith under the old name, so that the people know not that a change has taken place in our title? "Beloved, now are we the sons of God." Yet some of us have hardly dared to claim and wear the name. If to some there belongs a name of controversy, battle, antagonism, take it up: it suits the times; the world wants warriors. Take the name which God gives you, or which is brought to bear upon you by the order of his providence. When does God give a less name than the old one? He adds a syllable, and thereby adds a destiny: he changes one letter, first or last, and therein changes the course of a lifetime. "Jerubbaal, who is Gideon," took his place at the head of his people, "rose up early." When did the great worker ever rise up late? Early-rising is a necessity of divine vocation. There need be no mechanical arrangement about it. The work is terrific, and the worker is straitened until it be accomplished. There is an impatience that is inspired. Gideon and his people "pitched beside the well of Harod,"— that is, beside the well of "trembling," beside the well of "fear." It is well to begin at that point. Many a man who has begun his work nervously has turned out at the end to be quite a giant. Take heart; you are indeed now at the well of Harod,— at the waters of fear and trembling,— but if you are there on God's business, have no vital fear; you may shake off all fear and pray in the church as a child might pray at home, and fight in the field as consciously called of God to do the work of battle. We must not pour contempt upon men who are nervous, timid, hesitant in their first speech, afraid to pray their first audible prayer. History ought to have taught us a good deal upon such matters. Men who have begun thus have ended in great renown. Everything depends upon our spirit, upon our reliance upon the living God, upon our knowing that the work is not ours but the Lord's. This would seem to have been the course of the divine thought, for "the Lord said unto Gideon, The people that are with thee are too many." They are but thirty-two thousand in all; yet they are too many. But how can they be too many, for the Midianites are a hundred and thirty-five thousand strong? That, said God, is making a human calculation. We get wrong by applying human arithmetic to divine decrees; or we get wrong by trying to measure God's eternity by the tape of our time. He was an inspired man who invented the phrase "for ever and ever." That is the point at which time gives up the race, falls down dead, and lets eternity stand in its nameless mystery. But today we will play the arithmetician, and deal in figures and tables and returns audited and well avouched. When will we, can we, learn that all numbering is with the Lord, and that because the battle is his he will fight it as it pleases him? Israel would make a wrong use of numbers, as most men do. Israel would say, "Mine own hand hath saved me: I was thirty-two thousand strong on that memorable day, and that was force enough to slay the Midianitish power." God will stain the pride of all glory. God will not allow any flesh to glory in his presence. If we are gospel preachers, "we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." Human ambition must be restrained. The so-called law of cause and effect, which has victimised so many men in the spiritual universe, must be upset and contemned. When the Church comes into this temper we shall hear news of victory: God will surprise his trustful Church with tidings of great joy. Two-and-twenty thousand men returned unto their houses because they were fearful and afraid. Do not contemn this cowardice, for it is the very colour and temper of our own time. Many men are bold the day after the battle; many have nearly said the word of courage, the word of just reproof. Are not the greatest numbers most cowardly? In a sense this is true. If they could fight as a crowd they would be partially courageous: but real fight comes to man by man, assault and answer. So two-and-twenty thousand men said, We had better continue in oppression, in slavery, in loss, than challenge these unequal odds. But the Lord said, "The people are yet too many;" and the number was reduced to three hundred men by a very curious and interesting test, namely, the different methods in which water was taken. Are there no such tests now? We suppose that this test has passed away and settled in venerable history, to be occasionally exhumed and wondered about: the particular instance itself may no longer be literally repeated, but the principle that is in it is the principle which is operating in the very men who deny the accuracy of the literal incident itself. Men are chosen now by curious signs. We do not know how we are chosen to any particular work; but it may be found incidentally that some little unexpected circumstance, of which we took no note or heed, determined our being where we are. Men who want servants, lieutenants, allies, co-operative assistants, are looking round; the people upon whom they are looking may be unaware of the critical inspection, but it is proceeding nevertheless. Those who are looking on say, He walks lazily, his gait is lacking in energy; he will never do for my particular work. Or: See how he walks; what fire there is in him; every action is half a battle; he needs but to be put in the right circumstances, and he will turn out a satisfactory man; or: He talks too much; his speech is without pith or regard to the number of its words; he patters and gossips and is cursed with a detestable fluency: listen; he never ceases, he never pauses, he evidently loves to hear himself chatter,— he will never do. Or: He is an excellent listener; he does not commit himself: observe, he never plunges into anything that he cannot fully grasp and comprehend; he looks more than he speaks; not a word escapes that listener: when he does speak there is marrow in his speech; he is young, but he will get over that disadvantage; he shapes well already. This process is going on through all society. Men are noting one another; seeing whether they lie down upon the ground and devour the water, or whether, being men in wise haste and under self-control, they lap it, and pass on. The little local incident has changed, but the principle of curious and even eccentric election is operating in all life, and the men who deny the Bible live over again its most curious instances. Gideon was one of those men who require continual encouragement. It was not enough to say to him once for all, "I will be with thee;" he did not doubt the divine presence: but see how Israel had been weakened, impoverished, crushed, these last seven years by the invasion of the Midianites; see how they dare not thresh their corn in the open field or accessible winepress, but had to beat it out in the concealment of the crags and rocks; observe how Israel had to listen and look to assure himself that no Midianite was looking on before he rubbed out his handful of corn and got it ready for the baking;— then say if a man could instantly become a great religious and courageous character; and then see how loving it was of God to deal with him according to his weakness, to encourage him, little by little to lead him on. Why, this is the Christly spirit: he will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax; he has the tongue of the learned, and can speak a word in season to him that is weary; he will not urge his omnipotence against our nothingness, but will accommodate his approach, and breathe upon us quietly, and send to our sinking spirits a still small voice. So Gideon needed to be encouraged again. The Lord said to him: I have made a man down in the Midianitish camp dream a curious dream; I will so operate upon him that he will begin to talk as it were in a half-sleep: go down and listen. Gideon looked afraid; the Lord noticed the blanched face and said: If thou fear to go down alone, go thou with Phurah thy servant; two may be better than one. This is an anticipation of the time when the Lord sent out his servants "by two and two." Gideon took heart when he was allowed to take a servant with him. "Then went he down with Phurah his servant unto the outside of the armed [the same word is rendered harnessed in Exodus 13:18. The probable meaning is arrayed in divisions] men that were in the host. And the Midianites and the Amalekites and all the children of the east lay along in the valley like grasshoppers [locusts. Compare Numbers 22:4-5] for multitude; and their camels were without number, as the sand by the sea side for multitude" (Judges 7:11-12). When Gideon came near a man told a dream to his neighbour; he said, "Behold, I dreamed a dream, and, lo, a cake of barley bread"— such bread as Israel has been reduced to, the bread of poverty— "tumbled into the host of Midian, and came unto a tent, and smote it that it fell, and overturned it, that the tent lay along." It is an extraordinary dream; what is the meaning of it? The other man had the faculty of interpretation; he said, "This is nothing else save the sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel." Once let the enemy have within him the fear that the opposing host will succeed, and the battle is won. Battles are lost and won in the soul. The Church has feared, and the Church has lost. The battle opened. Israel, represented by three hundred men, did according to the instructions of Gideon:— "When I blow with a trumpet, I and all that are with me, then blow ye the trumpets also on every side of all the camp, and say, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon,"— and that will correspond in instructive harmony with the dream which I have overheard; the name of Gideon has entered into the speech of the Midianites; associate that name with this great battle, and say, "The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon." So the battle opened. "And the three companies blew the trumpets, and brake the pitchers, and held the lamps in their left hands, and the trumpets in their right hands to blow withal: and they cried, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon;" and as the torches were shaken in the air, for they were torches rather than what we understand as lamps, and as the sound came from every quarter at once, Midian was afraid, and Midian was destroyed. Make the most of yourselves. You are but three hundred, but symbolically you are all heaven. This manner of assaulting the enemy is no dramatic manner, no pretence or affectation; this is a battle which is being fought on divine principles: therefore, if three hundred men seem to be three millions, they are such, multiplied by themselves and multiplied by infinity in their symbolical and representative capacity. Gideon took princes that day, even "Oreb and Zeeb," the Raven and the Wolf. The heads of the raven and the wolf were brought to Gideon on the other side Jordan,— see him with the one in one hand and the other in the other. It was an old and barbarous plan to bring the head of the enemy to the hand of the conqueror. It is not a thing to be reproduced or countenanced by Christanised civilisation; but it was the ancient mode of warfare, and must be judged by the morality of the age. This is typical. "Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength? "He has trodden the winepress alone. He is mighty to save; he is mighty also to destroy. "His enemies will I clothe with shame: but upon himself shall his crown flourish." In this faith all Christians live and work, serve and suffer, and, blessed be God, the inspiration is in us also. Men call themselves by symbolical names, as Midian was called "the Raven," but God's hand is in the heavens, and the air shall be cleansed of his enemies:— "the Wolf," but God's eyes are in the forest and the jungle and the wilderness, and he will destroy the ravenous beast. Men have called themselves by ideal and typical names, as the "Gracchi"— the jackdaws. This entry is longer than a Bible module can hold. The rest is at https://www.sermonindex.net/commentary/pb/ "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"Faint, yet pursuing."—Judges 8:4. A description of many a Christian heart.— We shall be judged, not by the faintness, but by the pursuit.— Not what the heart does, but what the heart would do, will be God's question.— Sometimes we are so faint that we can only look in the right direction, but the direction being right, the look shall be regarded as equal to pursuit.— There is a moral meaning in attitudes.— Endeavours are often construed into actions.— He who would give a cup of cold water to a disciple if he could, will be accounted as having done it.— Men will be judged by what has been in their hearts; then the first will be last, and the last will be first.— Allowance is made for faintness, for there is only One that fainteth not, neither is weary.— God knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.— Men must not be too deeply discouraged because of their faintness, but must often look upon it as part of their very mortality.— Even the apostle said the flesh was weak when the spirit was willing; but he knew that God would judge by the spirit, and not by the flesh.— At the same time we must be severe in our judgment upon ourselves, lest we suppose that a pleasant dream, which imposes no sacrifice, should be enough as proof of our Christian fidelity.— We must not assume faintness by easily giving way to discouragement.— Against some faintness we can bravely struggle, and our very struggling may overcome it.— Indolence must not be mistaken for this faintness.— Selfish calculation must not be allowed to take its place.— We must be true to ourselves in all these matters, or we cannot realise the Mewing that is promised.— When a man tells lies to himself about his faintness, he will soon relinquish his pursuit.— We can whisper where we cannot speak aloud.— We may be able to hold out a hand when we cannot utter a tone.— We can put large meaning into looks and postures.— There is no mistaking an earnest man. Even his feebleness may be so used as to become an element of spiritual strength. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"But the youth drew not his sword: for he feared, because he was yet a youth."—Judges 8:20. Too much must not be expected from youth.— It was a hard thing that Jether was here asked to do.— We may discourage youth by expecting too much from it at once.— It is well for that youth who understands the limits of his strength, and keeps well within them.— There is an audacity which it is hard to distinguish from impiety.— By imposing too heavy responsibilities upon youth, we may either inflame its vanity or discourage its modesty.— Every man is to consider what he can do, with propriety, and not to force himself to the front, unless others have proved unworthy of the occasion.— Under other circumstances youth is called upon to do the very hardest work. When that is the case, the revelation of duty will be made clear.— It was David who was called upon to slay Goliath.— David said, "Is there not a cause?" He was the subject of an inspiration unknown to others; he was obeying a voice which others could not hear.— It is easy to rebuke youth for not doing certain things from which young modesty shrinks; it is better to recognise the modesty than to magnify the fear.— Young people do not become accustomed to the sword all at once. For a time they must be kept at home, watching the "few sheep in the wilderness," or planting a few flowers in the domestic garden; by-and-by they may grow up to be soldiers and valiant men.— In the meantime, let us not condemn the Jethers of the age when they hesitate to shed blood. Abimelech The Bramble KingJudges 9IS Abimelech dead? Has he reappeared in our own days? Or after the devil made Abimelech did he throw the mould away? These questions are not difficult. We can easily determine them, either in the positive or in the negative. It would be something worth doing to be able to establish as a fact the absolute certainty of the death of Abimelech and all his progeny. But we must take the evidence as we find it, and abide by the issue to which it points, whatever that issue may be. This is the only just way of reading human history, and we must not suspend it, or pervert it, simply to confirm our own prejudices or inclinations. The broad lines of the career of Abimelech are written in this chapter, and are easy of comprehension. Abimelech was the son of Gideon. So far that may be put down to his credit. But his mother was only a concubine, or a wife of the second rank. So Abimelech stands somewhat on one side in history. It is often awkward to have incidental relations in life: they surprise the parties interested at unexpected times; they flash out light in the darkness; they make a noise when deep sleep falleth upon man. Still, Abimelech had advantages arising from the concubinage of Gideon. He was related to the Ephraimites on the one hand and to the Canaanites on the other. It has been pointed out in the case of our own Henry II. that he boasted that he was the first Norman son of a Saxon mother. Abimelech may make use of this peculiarity in his history, and may work along that line of policy and adventure. Still, we must not blame Abimelech where no blame is due. We are not asked how we will be born into the world, or where; otherwise some of us would never have been born at all. Do not throw a man's disadvantages in his face. There are misfortunes as well as crimes, and a just criticism of character and of history will ever distinguish between the one and the other. Abimelech must speak for himself. When he begins to talk we shall understand somewhat of the quality of his mind, but even there we must make critical and perhaps generous allowance. We do not now begin the human race. Even now we are tainted or blessed by our past Only God, therefore, can judge the world. We see but the individual man, the narrow and open circumstances of life; and the basis of inference is too narrow to justify us in supposing that it is in our power to form a comprehensive and final judgment. "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." Abimelech himself may illustrate these fundamental principles. Abimelech was ambitious. By so much he lives today. He would be king; who would not? There is a taking of the lowest seat at the feast which is the veriest pride. When Diogenes trampled upon the robe of Plato he said, "Thus I tread on Plato's pride;" Plato answered, "With greater pride of your own." So if we find Abimelech wanting to be king, the air is full of Abimelechs. There are various kingdoms and thrones and primacies for which men are striving night and day. Who has not his own little ambition? It looks innocent enough in some cases: it is but to add a letter or two to the name; or to live in a larger house; or to be able to give hospitality that will create a reputation for itself; or to be named by some distinguished writer; it does not lie at all along the high line which is supposed to be terminated by a throne: but, as a mere matter of analysis the action or purpose underlying it is as full of ambition as if the man, actuated by that motive, had fixed his eyes upon the supreme throne of the world. Abimelech was adroit. He put a question. Are interrogators dead? He put a question that was noble and unselfish in its letters, namely, "Whether is better for you?" as if to say, It is no matter of mine; your interests are supreme: I open my business on the public highway for the good of the public; it is of no consequence to me whether you buy my goods or not; I lay them before you and give you the golden opportunity, and you must say what you will do in the matter. Is that man dead? Why, he is a thousand strong in nearly every great thoroughfare! Time cannot kill him; he can be found at a moment's notice. But Abimelech was unjust in his benevolence. The question he put had no right to be put, because it involved others, namely, "Whether is better for you, either that all the sons of Jerubbaal, which are threescore and ten persons, reign over you, or that one reign over you?" (Judges 9:2). Would you like to have seventy kings, or one king? Now the spirit of Abimelech was false, because the seventy men had never said anything about wishing to be kings. Why do we first credit men with bad motives, and then charge those bad motives upon them as accusations, as if they had originated in the spirit of the men themselves? We must not put one another into false positions. If the seventy sons of Jerubbaal had said, "We would all like to be kings," the case would have been put precisely in the terms which Abimelech used. But Gideon had refused the kingship. Long ago, when the Israelites said, Rule thou over us, and thy house, he said, No, I will not rule over you, nor my house: the Lord is your king. How subtle is the temptation to misconstrue a man's purposes, and then to treat him as if he had actually originated those purposes! We transfer ourselves to the man, and having invested him with an enforced personality we judge him by that investiture. The spirit of injustice is a cruel spirit. The action which Abimelech took was to kill the sons of Gideon. That was the rude method of the times. Seventy men were in the way, and the answer to the embarrassment was— Murder! So the sons of Gideon, seventy in number, were murdered "upon one stone"— probably flung from one rock and dashed to pieces. How will Abimelech die? We must wait to see. But one son escaped, namely, the youngest, Jotham by name. How is it that one always does escape? Account for the one little Fleance always getting out of the way and coming back at unexpected times, and facing society like a living judgment. It is in so-called little things that the providence of God is vividly shown. Not the oldest, strongest son, but little Jotham, we may call him, for he certainly was the youngest. He came upon a given day, and spake a parable upon the top of Mount Gerizim. He "lifted up his voice, and cried, and said"— and then comes the parable, or fable, of the trees. It is rather a fable than what we now understand by a parable. It is more after, as we should say, the lines of Æsop than the lines of Christ. But a fable may be the larger truth. How is it that the men living at the time cannot write the history of what they see? We say, This statesman, or that reformer, must be left for critical judgment to the historian. Or we say, The event is too near us to be correctly judged. That is to say, a man who is not yet born will arise and tell the world the exact meaning of what we are now doing! Why, then, this wonderful objection to Biblical prophets and Biblical judgments? It is the very principle upon which we ourselves operate day by day. There can be nothing much more startling to what we call common-sense than that a man who is not yet born shall arise and give a true version of the men's motives, purposes, and histories who lived a thousand years before he himself was born. So fable takes up the real meaning of things,— that marvellous composition we call fiction, dramatic interpretation, the lifting of things up from low levels, into right line and colour,— that most wondrous of all God's gifts to man, the gift of Imagination. Jotham displayed amazing intellectual sagacity, and expressed himself with exquisite verbal beauty. It required an attentive mind to follow him. The man speaks about trees; the trees going forth to anoint a king over them; the trees asking the olive, and the olive declining; then asking the fig-tree, and the fig-tree saying No; then asking the vine, and the vine refusing the throne; last of all, the bramble— lean, prickly, sharp— asking in a taunting tone if they were willing to put their trust in his shadow; if so, he, the bramble, would reign over the cedars of Lebanon. Pride at first says, Who shall we have to reign over us? At last Pride says, Who can we get to be our king? God humbles pride. The first inquiry made by a Church may be, Who shall we have for our minister? and the last may be, Who can we get? who will come? It is right: all really good people are pre-engaged. The olive-tree says, "Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?" The fig-tree says, "Should I forsake my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to be promoted over the trees?" The vine says, "Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?" All the good trees are pre-occupied. All the men worth having to reign over us are already enthroned. Kings are not falling about the streets to be picked up by any passer-by. Last of all, the trees becoming a little disappointed, actually renounced their courtesy, and said to the bramble, somewhat brusquely, "Come thou, and reign over us." No question was asked; no opportunity of declining was given; but, with a kind of satiric brutality, the trees said, We must have a king— here, come, and take the throne. The parable is spoken. It is sprinkled, so to say, on the air, and is apparently lost. No; the air is full of sermons yet to be applied. They will take fire some day, and come back upon us with startling, if not destructive, energy No wise word is lost; no fable charged with sacred meaning has vanished with the smoke of the day in which it was spoken. Cheer thy heart, godly teacher; the sermons appear to be all lost They are listened to, but not answered. The appeal, warm with thy very blood, accentuated by the fire of life, may apparently be lost. But there is a time of resurrection in these things, and swift application, a day of judgment before the judgment day, and then it will be known what every man has done in endeavouring to serve his age. Again and again in the life of Christ we read such words as these, "Then remembered they,"— that is to say, circumstances had gathered themselves into such proportions, and had addressed themselves with such vigour to the mind and the memory, that something within was awakened, the old word was sounded in the ear, and it came with its full and noble meaning. The man who can make a beautiful parable can make a beautiful sermon also. Jotham made a magnificent appeal:— "Now therefore, if ye have done truly and sincerely [a bitterly ironical supposition], in that ye have made Abimelech king, and if ye have dealt well with Jerubbaal and his house, and have done unto him according to the deserving of his hands; (for my father fought for you, and adventured [cast,— "he hath poured out his soul unto death,"] his life far, and delivered you out of the hand of Midian: and ye are risen up against my father's house this day, and have slain his sons, threescore and ten persons [Jotham himself is counted in this number], upon one stone, and have made Abimelech, the son of his maidservant [intentionally contemptuous], king over the men of Shechem, because he is your brother;) if ye then have dealt truly and sincerely with Jerubbaal and with his house this day, then rejoice ye in Abimelech, and let him also rejoice in you: but if not, let fire come out from Abimelech, and devour the men of Shechem, and the house of Millo; and let fire come out [exactly fulfils Judges 9:45-49] from the men of Shechem, and from the house of Millo, and devour Abimelech" (Judges 9:16-20). The epimuthion, or application of the fable, was magnificent in moral tone. Jotham comprehended the great philosophy that water cannot rise above its level: men cannot rise above the honour that is in them. Little men cannot be great; ungrateful men cannot be just; mean souls can never be majestic. Jotham said in effect: If this is your idea of honour, so be it, take the consequences; if this is your reading of history, and this your tribute to the illustrious dead, let it be so. Men must act according to their own quality. Men do not gather grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles. The criticism with which your life is followed will be according to the quality of the critics: tainted men will see putridity in you; men of ungenerous mind will never write or speak one glowing word about your action. They are hardly to be blamed; they cannot help it: every tree grows after its own kind, so does every man. The appeal of Jotham is the appeal which men may address to the ages, though they run away as Jotham did, and flee into darkness; but the appeal will abide when the speaker has gone. Children, if this is your idea of what is due to your father and your mother who lived for you, suffered for you, had but one thought, and that a thought for your comfort and progress, if this is your idea of gratitude and justice to their memory, carry out your programme, and let the times that are coming judge you. Nations, if this is the way in which you treat your statesmen, your patriots, your reformers, so be it: nations cannot rise above their level: by your treatment of your leaders and patriots we shall know your own quality. Nations write themselves in the deeds which they do to those who have led and instructed them. Congregations, if this be your idea of what is due to your ministers and teachers, so be it; if after the men have prayed themselves into agony for you, studied your distresses that they might heal your wounds, lived for you, thought for you, sacrificed themselves on the altar of your welfare, if you care to forget the past, to throw out the old men and let them die where they may, so be it: congregations cannot rise above their level. Congregations must carry out their own idea of honour. They find it convenient to forget, to obliterate, the noblest service which man can render to man. Be it so. Do not reason with them. It is an inevitable meanness. Then the other side is true: there are grateful children; there are nations loyal to their chiefs; there are congregations greater than the ministers. So be it. On both sides we can but say with Jotham, So be it; rejoice, and rejoice in one another. After three years peace was broken. Abimelech conquered until he came to Thebez, where there was a strong tower; and full of his father's intrepidity and daring courage, he went straight up to the tower and said he would destroy it, or overthrow it, or burn it The people went to the top of the tower, and a woman among them looked out, and saw this man fighting against its very walls, and she dropped a stone, and it crushed the head of Abimelech. He killed the sons of Gideon with a stone: God also can throw stones. Let us take care: "With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." When Adoni-bezek had his thumbs and great toes cut off he said, "As I have done, so God hath requited me." The treacherous idolaters had their temple burned by the treachery of their enemies. "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." "Thus,"— we read: "God rendered the wickedness of Abimelech, which he did unto his father, in slaying his seventy brethren: and all the evil of the men of Shechem did God render upon their heads: and upon them came the curse of Jotham the son of Jerubbaal" (Judges 9:56-57). Selected Notes Cast a piece of millstone.— So that ambitious King Pyrrhus was at last slain with a tile-stone thrown upon his head by a woman. And the like deadly blow by a like hand, upon the head of Hermanius, Earl of Lucelberg, whom Pope Hildebrand had set up in opposition to Henry the Emperor, whom he had excommunicated. Simeon De' Monteforti also, another of the Pope's champions, fighting against those ancient Protestants, the Waldenses, was brained with a stone at the siege of Toulouse. That scholar that took his death by the falling of a letter of stone from the Earl of Northampton's house at the funeral of Queen Anne, was to be pitied. But commentators observe it for a just hand of God upon Abimelech, that upon one stone he had slain his seventy brethren, and now a stone slayeth him: his head had stolen the crown of Israel, and now his head is smitten. The vengeance which he had wreaked upon Shechem, he intended also for Thebez, a town placed by the Onomasticon thirteen Roman miles from Neapolis (Shechem) on the road to Beth-Shean, or Beisân; which is therefore the modern Tûbâs, twelve miles e.n.e. of Shechem. One might infer from this that the son considered himself the lawful successor of his father in the government of Israel, and meant to punish these two cities as Succoth and Penuel had been punished for their rebellion. But his utter failure, his death by the hand of a woman (like Sisera, Judges 4:9), and his miserable effort to escape by suicide from this disgrace, to a bold warrior, were the tokens in providence that he wanted the moral and spiritual qualities of Gideon. And his personal ruin, together with the immediately resulting collapse of the government which he had established over Israel, marked the fulfilment of Jotham's curse. It is mere ignorance of old English which in many copies of the Bible changed "alto brake," that is, "altogether brake," into "all to break" in ver. 53. In the providence of God a spirit of rebellion and hatred was allowed to work its influence upon the Shechemites. Gaal, probably a Canaanite, came to the city, and excited the inhabitants at the time of the vintage festival, urging that Abimelech was half an Israelite, and that it behoved them to establish a pure native rule. Abimelech was privately informed of the conspiracy by Zebul, one of his followers, whom he had made ruler of Shechem; and with an energy and promptitude that recall the military abilities of his father, at once proceeded to quell the revolt. He defeated Gaal, who attempted to exclude him from Shechem, and on the following day took the city with much slaughter of his former subjects. The temple-citadel in which the rest took refuge he burned to the ground, and then besieged Thebez, which had borne a part in the insurrection. The people fled to the citadel, and Abimelech proceeded to lay fire at the gate. Here, however, his reign and his life came suddenly to an end. A piece of a millstone, flung by a woman from the battlements, fractured his skull, and, at his own request, his armour-bearer thrust him through with a sword. Thus ended the dark, dishonourable career of "the Bramble King," after a tyranny of three years, and thus closed one of the most degrading chapters in the history of Israel. PrayerAlmighty God, we are part of thy purpose in the creation of the world. We know not why we are here. We are here by no will of our own: the times are hard, the temptations are a million in number, the chances are that we may be lost. We cannot tell what all this means. Thou didst not ask us to be here. We are often full of pain and sore distress, hardly knowing the right hand from the left; mocked in our prayers; disappointed, not only in our ambitions, but in our rational hopes; borne down by a great weight, threatened by an immeasurable cloud, full of blackness, charged with thunder. What we love we lose: we grow flowers only to see them wither, and rear children that they may break our hearts, and pet the household lamb that it may be stolen. This is a great mystery. We knew not any of its meaning in ourselves. We bless thee for a book which interprets the riddle. We hear in that Gospel-book music from heaven, voices from beyond, assurances that the darkness is but for a moment, and that a great light has already started from the eternal throne and will be here presently. We have read the story of thy Son, and we know it to be true: this Man receiveth sinners; this Man talks to the broken heart, and holds up pictures of the kingdom long enough for us to see them through our tears. He loved us: he preached in our towns and villages; he gave us bread when we were hungry; he cured the sick man whom the physicians had abandoned; he allowed us to approach him by night when we dared not go by day: he saved others,— himself he did not save; he forgave his enemies dying, and he sent gospels to them living; and now he is exalted, a King, a Prince, a Saviour, to give repentance unto Israel and remission of sins; and he carries the little earth in his heart like a thing loved with all heaven's love. We know Jesus Christ. We love him. His name is wrought into the very texture of our life: to take it away is to take away our breath. He was our visitor when none else would come near the house; he lighted the lamp when the chamber was all darkness; he came out into the wilderness to seek and to save that which was lost. We cannot forget his cross: if we forget that cross, may our right hand forget its cunning; if we cease to remember that death, may our tongue cleave to the roof of our mouth. Lead us to see that all other deliverances point to the one redemption. As we move along the line of Biblical story, may we feel that One greater is yet to come than any deliverer who has appeared. May we find our way through providence to redemption, through history to revelation, and through the altars built by men to the cross set up from before the foundation of the world; thus will our reading be profitable, full of spiritual nutriment, and our souls shall grow in the school of God, and around them shall be wrought the mystery of grace, as we spend our nights and days with Jesus. We put our hands into thine. The way is too long for us, and too rough; who made the road we cannot tell, but our feet are weary, and our eyes are distressed by the vast monotony. But in thy society there is no weariness; in thine inspiration, O Holy Spirit of the living God, heaven begins. Feed us; lead us; keep us;— may no wanderer be lost! Amen. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"Thou seest the shadow of the mountains as if they were men."—Judges 9:36. This text may be used as showing how possible it is to be magnifying dangers, or creating illusory enemies.— Whilst this is historically true, it is spiritually indisputable.— There is a tendency in the spiritual life to magnify all difficulties, and so to discourage the soul.— Who has not been frightened by shadows? Who has not shrunk from the conclusions of his own just reasoning?— The hill always looks to be highest when viewed from a distance.— When approached it subsides and becomes really easy of ascent.— We may turn some men into enemies by looking upon them from a great distance, or seeing them under unfavourable circumstances.— We must come near them, and estimate them at their proper strength.— Approach is sometimes the best solution of difficulties.— Boldness often dissolves the mystery which it has feared.— The Christian should set it down as an article of his faith that they can be only shadows which are arrayed against the Lord and against his anointed.— Even Pharaoh, king of Egypt, was "but a noise."— The mightiest men who set themselves against Christ are not so much men as shadows.— All this has been proved again and again in history, and the proof should be taken as an inspiration and an encouragement by the age now living and by all the ages to come.— All clever arguments, all elaborated scepticisms, all new heterodoxies are but so many shadows, and are on no account to be feared by the soldiers of Christ.— Remember that shadows are not to be destroyed by swords and guns, or by violence of any kind; the shadows can only be chased away by light: "Ye are the light of the world."— If we were more radiant we should see fewer shadows, or the shadows would flee away before the approaching glory.— Pray for an increase of luminous-ness, that the whole character may be as a sun, shining in his strength, and dissolving and dispersing every shadow. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"What ye have seen me do, make haste, and do as I have done."-Judges 9:48. This exhortation may be adopted by Christian believers.— What ye have seen me do in difficult business circumstances.— What ye have seen me do in the presence of great temptations.— What ye have seen me do in the way of self-sacrifice.— What ye have seen me do in great afflictions.— This may be adopted also by Christian teachers.— The Apostle Paul said. "Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ."— What ye have seen me do in the way of energy, in the way of faith, in the way of self-expenditure, in the way of forgiveness, make haste, and do as I have done.— Is the Christian believer prepared to make himself an example to others? What Christian man would be willing to say, You need not at present look any further than to myself, for I am guide and standard enough to the Church?— This exhortation may also be adopted by parents when addressing their children: each father or mother should be able to say, What ye have seen me do in the thick of domestic difficulties, in the night of pain, in the assured oncoming of poverty, in the very cloud and overshadowing of despair.— If we were to accustom ourselves to the thought that we have to show forth our own conduct as a standard, it would make us more careful to see that that standard is noble and right.— Even if we do not call attention to our actions ourselves, yet men are looking on, and may well claim that they have a right to copy us.— We may affect humility, and say, Do not look at us, but look at our Master; but after all the men of the world have a right to say, No: Christ is too high for us: we will look at his followers, and judge his Christianity by their spirit and their action.— A point, too, might be made of the words "make haste," because that which is an example today may be no example to-morrow in relation to certain practical matters; the circumstances altering, the adaptation to them must alter also. Beside, if we do not copy the example of today we may not be living to copy it to-morrow.— There are circumstances under which everything depends upon a prompt use of time.— The train goes at a certain moment, so does the post; the bank closes at a given hour: opportunities of all kinds are limited.— Hence the great importance which ought to be attached to the words "make haste." After Abimelech Judges 10WE have had much excitement in many of the pages through which we have inquiringly passed. We now come to a period of extreme quietness. For five and forty years nothing occurred in Israel worth naming in detail. Tola and Jair, though judges in Israel, lived and died in the utmost quietness. They occupy about four lines each in the history of their people. Quietness has no history. Events are recorded; stories, anecdotes, incidents,— these claim the attention of the historical pen; but peace, quietness, industry, patience, inoffensiveness, these have no historian: a line or two will do for them,— the war must have chapter after chapter. The popular proverb is, "Blessed are the people who have no annals." Within a narrow sense that is true; the sense is very narrow. Read Judges 10:1-2 :— "And after Abimelech [who is not counted among the judges] there arose to defend [or save, equal to deliver] Israel Tola the son of Puah, the son of Dodo, a man of Issachar [probably the only judge furnished by this indolent tribe]; and he dwelt in Shamir in mount Ephraim. And he judged Israel twenty and three years, and died, and was buried in Shamir." Is that dull reading? Of what tribe was the man? "Issachar." Has Issachar any fame? Let us bethink ourselves: who can remember anything said in the Bible about Issachar? The solution of the mystery may be in that direction. The individual man may have no great repute, but he may belong to a tribe quite renowned for some virtue. Mark these words: "The children of Issachar, which were men that had understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do." Then Tola the son of Puah, the son of Dodo, belonged to a tribe of statesmen. It was nothing to them to propound great schemes, work out great reforms, propose wholesome ameliorations: great things came naturally in their way. If a little tribe had attempted any one of the reforms proposed and executed by Issachar he would have become famous. A very short pedestal would make a giant of a dwarf. But the men of Issachar were accustomed to statesmanship; they were famed for their sagacity; they had the piercing eyes that could see through all surfaces, veilings, sophisms,— that could read the necessity of the age, the temper and desire of the heart of Israel. So we must not pass by these negative characters as if they were really nothing. A touch of their hand might be equal to the stroke of a powerful instrument. One word spoken by a man of the tribe of Issachar might have in it a volume of wisdom. We must not measure men by the lines which the historian spends upon them. There is family history, household training, sagacity that makes no noise, farsightedness that disappoints the immediate ambition, but that prepares for the discipline and schooling and perfecting of a lifetime. Let those who spend their lives in the shadow think of these things: they may have a fame distinctively their own, not noisy, tempestuous, tumultuous, but profound, healthful, lasting,— blessed are they who have the renown of wisdom, the fame of understanding: that will endure when many a vaporous reputation has been exhaled, forgotten. The men of Issachar were wise men,— men of solid head, clear brain, comprehensive vision; men who put things together, and deduced from them inferences which amounted to philosophies; they had understanding of the times: they were not fretted and chafed by the incidents of the passing day; they saw the meaning that underlaid the event, and they knew what Israel ought to do. Bless God for good leadership— in the state, in business, in the family, everywhere; the greater it is the more silent it may sometimes be. "And after him arose Jair, a Gileadite, and judged Israel twenty and two years. And he had thirty sons [representing an ostentatious polygamy] that rode on thirty ass colts [implying the great wealth of the household], and they had thirty cities which are called Havoth-jair [Havoth, meaning villages] unto this day, which are in the land of Gilead. And Jair died, and was buried in Camon" (Judges 10:3-5). That is the great danger of times of quietness. When there is little to excite attention and develop energy the tendency is that men may notice little things and make much of them. There was not much to do in Israel when it could be noted how many sons any man had, and whether they rode on ass colts or otherwise. That danger besets all life. In the absence of great questions, thrilling problems of an imperial or social kind, men betake themselves to little pedantries, frivolous amusements, trifling inquiries: the greater nature sleeps, and little, active, nimble fancy presides over the life, and fritters it away. We want every now and then some great heroic occasion that shall swallow up all our little fancies, whims, and oddities, and make men of us. We need visitations of a providential kind to shake us out of our littleness and frivolity, and make us mighty in prayer, almost sublime in thought, certainly heroic in self-control and patience. Thus God has educated the world. Mark how the marvellous history has gone; in what measured undulation: sometimes the mountains have been very high, and have been untouched except by the feet of the eagle, unploughed except by the lightning of God,— far away, lost in the cloud; sometimes the heights have been quite accessible, so green, so velvetlike in their sward, and so rich in new and surprising flora; then we have come further down into great gardens, quiet villages, places sacred to slumber, and whilst we were revelling in the luxury of quietness a great clang tore the air and a trumpet summoned us to sudden war. So the Bible story has proceeded, and as the sun has set upon the day quiet, or the day of strife, we have felt a sense of incompleteness, which has often become quite religious, and has said to itself, This is not all; the punctuation is intermediate, not final; surely all these occurrences mean a greater incarnation than we have ever yet beheld. We need great excitements or solemn occasions in the family, or we should drivel away into the most frivolous existence. Given sound health, abundant prosperity, everything the heart could desire,— what is the issue of it all? Satiety; great difficulty in being pleased; an outworn appetite or desire; taking up with trivial things; a sensitiveness that is easily offended; a pride that would be contemptible if it were not so transparent. How they talk who have much goods laid up for many years! How difficult to please with their books, which they never read, and their pictures which they only buy because others have recommended them! How difficult to please with their friends, their feasts, their entertainments! How sensitive to cold! How extremely sensitive to draughts! How altogether peculiar! The Lord could not allow this to be going on, or the people would decay, fall away from manhood, and disappoint the very purpose and decree of heaven. So affliction must come, and loss, and the whole house must rock under the wind; then the people will become themselves again; they will think, pray, ask serious questions, and look at the reality and gravity of life. So must it be with the Church and with the nation. We must not have too much quietness. Our quiet periods must be alternated by periods of great stress and difficulty. Watch how God has trained the world. We do not see the method in any one verse or incident. Herein is the peculiarity of the Bible, that it must be read consecutively, page after page in sequence, until we begin to feel we are perusing a great architectural design, or a marvellous plan of war, or a sublime philosophy of education. Men may read the Bible in fragments, and know nothing about it. The Bible must be read continuously and cumulatively, until it prove its inspiration by its unity, and arrest human confidence by manifest proofs of divine dictation. Therefore we cannot stop in the historical books. We are thankful for them: so full of life, colour, action; many chapters have been written with the sword, others with rough pens, and others are but living hints of things that cannot be expressed; yet on we must go to the end, until the time when the whole book satisfies itself and satisfies its readers by a grand Amen. "And the children of Israel did evil again [added to do evil] in the sight of the Lord, and served Baalim, and Ashtaroth, and the gods of Syria [see Genesis 35:2, Genesis 35:4,], and the gods of Zidon [1 Kings 11:5], and the gods of Moab [1 Kings 11:7], and the gods of the children of Ammon [Leviticus 18:21], and the gods of the Philistines [observe how the seven idols correspond with the seven retributive oppressions], and forsook the Lord, and served not him" (Judges 10:6). We are sometimes afraid of religious excitement, but who ever is afraid of irreligious enthusiasm? It is supposed that all the exaggeration and sensationalism must be on one side; hence Christians are often foolishly and unjustly charged with religious fanaticism. There are revivals of godlessness; there are revivals of worldliness. What think ye of that? This sixth verse burns with unholy enthusiasm. Hear the list:— Having taken to idolatry, Israel took to it earnestly, with both hands— "and served Baalim, and Ashtaroth, and the gods of Syria, and the gods of Zidon, and the gods of Moab, and the gods of the children of Ammon, and the gods of the Philistines,"— any number of gods. Yet if Christian people are at all warm in their subject, they become "fanatics," and are blamed for sensationalism, by men who work seven days in the week to increase their balance at the bank! Let us keep the matter steadily in view. Which is better, a great excitement in the Church in the direction of bringing men to Jesus Christ, saving souls from death, converting the world; or a devotion to Mammon, in which the name of God is never mentioned, in which the Church is forgotten, in which every religious impulse is annihilated? One or the other of the enthusiasms we must have— an enthusiasm of life (and it is hardly a contradiction in terms so to say) or an enthusiasm in death. Christians must not allow themselves to be too easily rebuked: they must rather say with the Apostle, "Whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be sober, it is for your cause." Israel could hardly have gods enough. There is a marvellous licence in irreligion. Even Cicero said it was not sufficient for the majesty of Rome to have but one god; Rome must have a multitude of gods, said he, for reasons of State. There is then enthusiasm in idolatry; a keeping up of idolatry to its very highest pitch. These revivals are published, too. The idolaters were not ashamed to say to how many gods they had bowed down. Is all courage to be on the side of the opposition? and are Christians to sit down in the quietness of death, because they are afraid of the criticism of the world? "And the anger of the Lord [compare 1 Samuel 12:9] was hot against Israel, and he sold them [or, gave them up] into the hands of the Philistines, and into the hands of the children of Ammon. And that year [imperfect, as no year is specified] they vexed and oppressed the children of Israel: eighteen years, all the children of Israel that were on the other side Jordan in the land of the Amorites [the kingdoms of Og and Sihon], which is in Gilead. Moreover the children of Ammon passed over Jordan to fight also against Judah, and against Benjamin, and against the house of Ephraim; so that Israel was sore distressed" (Judges 10:7-9). Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. The Lord said in effect: If you will have the gods of the Philistines, you may take the Philistines also; if you will have the gods of heathen, you may have the whole yoke of heathendom to carry: you must not pick and choose, taking out the gods and leaving the customs, following the idolatry and escaping the tyranny. This is the reason why the Lord sends upon us all manner of evil,— because we have forsaken him. We may not have forsaken him nominally, but there is a forsaking that is worse than a merely nominal and formal renunciation. A man may not be forsaken in any public or mechanical manner by his family, but if they neglect him, if they allow him to mourn in his loneliness, and to cry in the bitterness of an unrelieved solitude,— if they hear his complaints without replying to them, he is indeed forsaken. It is impossible, therefore, to have a church, and an altar, and a merely nominal God, and a creed full of points innumerable, and yet never to turn the living, loving heart to the Father in heaven. Providence is full of chastisement in relation to evil-doers. The Lord is very pitiful and kind, but pity may be exhausted, and kindness may come to an end. So health is broken; the strong man is bowed down; those who were proud of their vigour have now to sigh their wants because they cannot express them in words. And the business is all broken up. Nobody can account for it. All the arrangements have been as usual; every appointment has been kept; attention has been paid to the whole circle; but there is no response: everything goes wrong; every figure is turned into a cipher, old books become practically blank. And bereavement is sent,— the choice one is taken away, the best one dies, and the bird with the brightest wing takes flight; the sweetest singer becomes dumb. And the way is shut up; yet no man can see where the bars are: there is no gate of wood or brass or iron that can be touched, for then it might be broken through or opened; but the air is full of bars, and we cannot make any progress. We earn wages, and put them into bags with holes in them. Is God always going to allow himself to be mocked? The point of sovereignty must be found somewhere: shall it be found in the riotous mob, God-forgetting, God-insulting; or in the eternal unchangeable throne of righteousness? Blessed be God for broken health, depressed trade, graves without number, ways that are. barred up with invisible iron, if our use of these things should lead us to thought, repentance, and better life. Israel was "sore distressed." There is a moral in agony. It is not every pain that will make a man pray. Some pain may be treated lightly, referred to as a momentary inconvenience; but the pain becomes sharper, the agony more burning, the fire more intolerable, and men who thought they could not pray are made to "cry," for they are "sore distressed." Do not let us suppose that we can outrun or outwit the living God. He will overtake us, and trip us, and scourge us, and it shall be found that among the multitude of the deities there has been in reality but one God. "And the children of Israel cried unto the Lord ["cried they had before, as very brutes will do when they are hurt, but not with their whole heart; their cries were the fruits of the flesh for ease, not of faith for God's favour "] saying, We have sinned against thee, both because we have forsaken our God, and also served Baalim" (Judges 10:10). That is a true conception of the case. Both the points are put effectively. Not only was there a forsaking of God, but there was a taking up with Baalim. Men cannot throw off their church robe without putting on some other garment. It is impossible simply to "leave the church." Yet there are men who deceive themselves with the idea that they have simply given up attendance upon religious duties and observance— have merely withdrawn from church appointment and action: nothing else has occurred. That is a profound mistake. No man leaves the true Church, wherever and whatever it may be,— no man abandons its ceremonies and observances and duties without exposing himself to a thousand assaults and temptations: he is more easily trifled with; he listens more eagerly to temptations which appeal to his ambition or his cupidity. He who goes down in veneration goes down in every faculty of his nature that pointed towards heaven or aspired after nobler life. Israel proved this. Having forsaken God, Israel took up with Baalim, with all the gods of the heathen; with many gods— yea, countless in number— absolutely forgetting the true God. There are losses which never can be made up. Loss of character is never made up by gain of wealth: there is no correspondence between the two quantities. Loss of the true God cannot be amended by the multiplication of false gods. The many do not total into the one. Now comes a sad word. The Lord said in the course of his reply,— "Go and cry unto the gods which ye have chosen; let them deliver you in the time of your tribulation" (Judges 10:14). [Compare very carefully Deuteronomy 32:37-38; 2 Kings 3:13; Jeremiah 2:28. We do not wonder at the "cry." The wonder is in heaven, not in man: the wonder is that we have anything, not that we are left with a solitary staff; the surprise is that we have a coal in the grate, or a loaf in the cupboard, not that we die of cold and perish with hunger. The taunting word we must all approve, if it comes to a question of bare justice, fair and honourable revenge. But when God laughs the universe grieves. "I also will laugh at your calamity." Who can bear it? There is a laughter which we can return with disdain equal to its own contempt. But there is another laughter, the laughter of mocked love, the laughter of avenging affection, the laughter of dishonoured holiness: who can abide its scorn? "I also will laugh at your calamity," I will refer you to the gods you have served; I will say, "Cry aloud: for he is a god; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awakened." Cry aloud! "Acquaint now thyself with him, and be at peace." The day of "sore distress" overtakes every life. Is the Lord Jesus Christ only to be sought after when everything gets darkened, and when the pathways round about the house are so treated as to prevent any noise reaching the dying life? Is he never to be invited to the wedding, where he would make the water wine? Is he never to come to the evening feast, where all the children would grow in his presence like flowers opening in the sun? Is he never to go out with us into the fields, golden with vernal and summer flowers? Is he never to be invited into the best rooms of the house, but always to be kept outside until he is asked into the chamber darkened because light means pain, and only to be spoken to when we need something from him? The question is a solemn one, and the answer is with ourselves. The voice of warning we have heard; the voice of redemption we have also listened to. "Choose you this day whom ye will serve." Keep to your god! If Baalim be god, keep to him, serve him; if the Lord be God, cleave unto him with full purpose of heart. That the Lord is God we know— we know in our heart, in our best feeling, in our least-perverted instincts; that there is a throne in the universe we know by the history of humanity upon the face of the earth,— a living Bible, a moving apocalypse, and obvious inspiration. Many deliverers have arisen, many redeemers have appeared in time of stress and sorrow, but each of them has said in mysterious language, "I am not he: there cometh one after me." We pass through a whole array of deliverers, emancipators, soldiers, ardent in patriotism,— the meaning of them all being that there is one coming whose name is Jesus Christ. He must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet. In heavenly vision I see him, and on his vesture and on his thigh is written, "KING OF KINGS, LORD OF LORDS." On his head are many crowns, and all heaven is filled with the thunder of his praise. Be Christ our captain. Be the Son of God our infinite deliverer. Selected Note "The children of Ammon passed over Jordan" (Judges 10:9). These were the descendants of the younger son of Lot (Genesis 19:38). They originally occupied a tract of country east of the Amorites, and separated from the Moabites by the river Arnon. It was previously in the possession of a gigantic race called Zamzummims (Deuteronomy 2:20), "but the Lord destroyed them before the Ammonites, and they succeeded them and dwelt in their stead." The first mention of their active hostility against Israel occurs in Judges 3:13 : "The king of Moab gathered unto him the children of Ammon and Amalek, and went and smote Israel." About one hundred and forty years later we are informed that the children of Israel forsook Jehovah and served the gods of various nations, including those of the children of Ammon, "and the anger of Jehovah was hot against them, and he sold them into the hands of the Philistines and of the children of Ammon" (Judges 10:7). The Ammonites crossed over the Jordan, and fought with Judah, Benjamin, and Ephraim, so that "Israel was sore distressed." In answer to Jephthah's messengers (Judges 11:12), the king of Ammon charged the Israelites with having taken away that part of his territories which lay between the rivers Arnon and Jabbok, which, in Joshua 13:25, is called "half the land of the children of Ammon," but was in the possession of the Amorites when the Israelites invaded it; and this fact was urged by Jephthah in order to prove that the charge was ill-founded. Jephthah "smote them from Aroer to Minnith, even twenty cities, with a very great slaughter" (Judges 11:33). In the writings of the prophets terrible denunciations are uttered against the Ammonites on account of their rancorous hostility to the people of Israel; and the destruction of their metropolis, Rabbah, is distinctly foretold (Zephaniah 2:8; Jeremiah 49:1-6; Ezekiel 25:1-5, Ezekiel 25:10; Amos 1:13-15). PrayerAlmighty God, it is our joy to know that thou art on the throne, and that thy judgment is true and righteous altogether. We trust our all to thee, for thou didst give us all. The mystery of our being we cannot understand; but when it is most painful, we see how truly great is thy meaning towards us. Surely thou didst not make man in vain; thou didst purpose concerning him great glory and honour, because great service, in the spheres which thou thyself wilt appoint. Some come into the world under infinite disadvantages; still, they are thy children; thou knowest their whole story; thou wilt not leave them without a friend; the burden is very heavy, the cloud is very threatening, but the Lord reigneth, and his name is Love. They wonder why they are here; they dare not escape from the little prison; they would gladly do so, but thou hast wrought within them the mystery of patience, which most sweetly says, Not my will, but thine, be done. And others are crowned with advantages which they cannot use: they are filled with pride and haughtiness, and the self-trust which they boast is only idolatry; they cannot tell the meaning of all the riches with which thou hast crowded their life: behold, their wealth is multitudinous, and they listen not to the cry of the poor, nor understand the pain of necessity. Others thou hast gifted until their gifts become temptations and snares, and seem to lie close to the dread region of madness; thou dost give them dreams they cannot realise, and flash upon their eyes visions which dazzle them; they seem to be able to pluck what they want, and yet they just fall short of the tempting fruit. So life is very hard to some men, most difficult, full of pleasure, full of pain— a great distress; the joy seems to be occasional, the sorrow permanent; the delight is but for a moment, and then the bright heavens close again in great thunder-clouds. Yet still thou hast so made us that we cling to life. Herein is a great mystery. We cannot give it up. We still hope that to-morrow will redeem today, and that in the coming gladness we shall forget the sorrow that is gone. So we stand in a great mystery. Come to us with the light of Christianity, the glory of the Cross, the revelation of thy love in Christ Jesus thy Son. May he bring life and immortality to light, and show us that in the by-and-bye, which we hope for under the name of Heaven, we shall see thy purpose, and glorify thy goodness, and say thou hast done all things well. Amen. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"His soul was grieved for the misery of Israel."—Judges 10:16. We must first have sympathy, then action.— Action based on sympathy is likely to be permanent and pure.— If we do not see the miseries of mankind we shall not be moved to preach the gospel of salvation or to do the necessary work of mercy.— He who denies the existence of poverty will not be likely to become liberal in his donations.— He who does not pity the wounded traveller will not be likely to dismount and attend to his wounds.— We have learning, genius, eloquence; but what about our grief for the miseries of the world?— Men who are moved by sympathy may have to listen to many a bitter tale, and may often have to be shut up in face-to-face communion with scenes that shock and pain the heart.— Some men can only see the misery, and then relate it to others, and thus move them with their larger resources to go forth to its relief, or empower agents to represent them in the ministry of help.— The first thing we have to do is to consider the length and breadth of the case— the case of poverty, oppression, helplessness— and then our hearts having become affected by the presence and action of indisputable facts, we are to ask what can be done by way of remedy or redress.— "If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not; doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it? and shall not he render to every man according to his works? "— We do not destroy the miseries of the world by shutting our eyes to them,— No man can be truly grieved for the miseries of the world without instantly attempting to mitigate them. He may fail in his attempt, but he will make it resolutely and self-sacrificingly.— If we are merely attempting to satisfy the fancies of the world, or gratify the whims of the world, we shall often fail in our service, and continually be disappointed with its results; but if we are fellow-workers with Christ in attempting to relieve the miseries of the world we shall find that the work is its own inspiration and its own reward. Judges 11 (Annotated) ["The history of Jephthah appears to be an independent history inserted bodily by the compiler of the Book of Judges. For it is obvious that Judges 11:4-5, introduce the Ammonitish war without any apparent reference to chap. Judges 10:17-18, though in perfect agreement with what is there related."—The Speaker's Commentary.] Judges 11:1-40(Giving the results of the best available criticism.) 1. Now Jephthah the Gileadite was a mighty man of valour, and he was the son of an harlot: and Gilead begat [may mean, was the ancestor of] Jephthah. 2. And Gilead's wife bare him sons; and his wife's sons grew up, and they thrust out Jephthah [in perfect accordance with the law, see Deuteronomy 23:2-3], and said unto him, Thou shalt not inherit in our father's house; for thou art the son of a strange woman. 3. Then Jephthah fled from his brethren, and dwelt in the land of Tob [a Syrian district on the north-east of Peræa]; and there were gathered vain ["These are exactly analogous to the doruphoroi,— a body guard of spear-bearers, which an ambitious Greek always hired as the first step to setting up a tyranny. We find David (1 Samuel 22:2), and Absalom (2 Samuel 15:1), and Rezon (1 Kings 11:24), and Adonijah (1 Kings 1:5), and Jeroboam (2 Chronicles 13:7), all doing the same thing."] men to Jephthah, and went out with him [as fellow freebooters]. 4. And it came to pass in process of time [after days], that the children of Ammon made war against Israel [this has been fully related in chap. x]. 5. And it was so, that when the children of Ammon made war against Israel [at the close of eighteen years of oppression, chap. Deuteronomy 10:9], the elders of Gilead went to fetch Jephthah out of the land of Tob: 6. And they said unto Jephthah, Come, and be our captain [our leader in time of war], that we may fight with the children of Ammon. 7. And Jephthah said unto the elders of Gilead, Did not ye hate me, and expel me out of my father's house? and why are ye come unto me now when ye are in distress? 8. And the elders of Gilead said unto Jephthah, Therefore we turn again to thee now, that thou mayest go with us, and fight against the children of Ammon, and be our head over all the inhabitants of Gilead. 9. And Jephthah said unto the elders of Gilead, If ye bring me home again to fight against the children of Ammon, and the Lord deliver them before me, shall I be your head? [more than merely leader in times of war.] 10. And the elders of Gilead said unto Jephthah, The Lord be witness [be hearing] between us, if we do not so according to thy words. 11. Then Jephthah went with the elders of Gilead, and the people made him head and captain [civil as well as military leader] over them: and Jephthah uttered all his words before the Lord in Mizpeh [by some solemn religious ceremony]. 12. And Jephthah sent messengers unto the king of the children of Ammon, saying, What hast thou to do with me, that thou art come against me to fight in my land? [He speaks officially in the name of all Israel.] 13. And the king of the children of Ammon answered unto the messengers of Jephthah, Because Israel took away my land [plausible, but not factual], when they came up out of Egypt, from Arnon even unto Jabbok [the space occupied by Gad and Reuben], and unto Jordan: now, therefore, restore those lands again peaceably. 14. And Jephthah sent messengers again [because he disputed the king's facts] unto the king of the children of Ammon: 15. And said unto him, Thus saith Jephthah, Israel took rot away the land of Moab, nor the land of the children of Ammon: ["What they took was the territory of Sihon which they had never been forbidden to take, and had, indeed, been forced to take by Sihon's attack upon them."] 16. But when Israel came up from Egypt [compare Numb. xx, xxi.], and walked through the wilderness [in the second year of the wanderings] unto the Red sea, and came to Kadesh; 17. Then Israel sent messengers unto the king of Edom [as narrated in Numbers 20:14, etc.], saying, Let me, I pray thee, pass through thy land: but the king of Edom would not hearken thereto. And in like manner they sent unto the king of Moab: but he would not consent: and Israel abode in Kadesh [where they may have encamped for a great part of forty years]. 18. Then they went along through the wilderness, and compassed the land of Edom, and the land of Moab, and came by the east side of the land of Moab, and pitched on the other side of Arnon, but came not within the border of Moab: for Arnon was the border of Moab. 19. And Israel sent messengers unto Sihon king of the Amorites, the king of Heshbon [king of the Amorites by birth, king of Heshbon by conquest]; and Israel said unto him, Let us pass, we pray thee, through thy land into my place. 20. But Sihon trusted not Israel to pass through his coast: but Sihon gathered all his people together, and pitched in Jahaz, and fought against Israel. 21. And the Lord God of Israel delivered Sihon and all his people into the hand of Israel, and they smote them: so Israel possessed all the land of the Amorites, the inhabitants of that country. 22. And they possessed all the coasts of the Amorites, from Arnon even unto Jabbok, and from the wilderness even unto Jordan. 23. So now the Lord God of Israel hath dispossessed the Amorites from before his people Israel, and shouldest thou possess it? [a theological as well as a military view.] 24. Wilt not thou possess that which Chemosh thy god ["The expression shows the close connection between Ammon and Moab. Chemosh was distinctively the god of Moab, and Molech of Ammon: but the two nations were of kindred blood and allied institutions."] giveth thee to possess? So whomsoever the Lord our God shall drive out from before us, them will we possess. 25. And now art thou any thing better than Balak [are you the good, good in comparison with?] the son of Zippor, the king of Moab? did he ever strive against Israel [except with pure hatred], or did he ever fight against them, 26. While Israel dwelt in Heshbon and her towns, and in Aroer and her towns, and in all the cities that be along by the coasts of Arnon, three hundred years? [An argument drawn from undisputed possession. The time mentioned may be a marginal gloss which has crept into the text] why therefore did ye not recover them within that time [at that crisis]? 27. Wherefore I have not sinned against thee, but thou doest me wrong to war against me: the Lord the Judge be judge this day between the children of Israel and the children of Ammon. [A familiar appeal. See Genesis 16:5, Genesis 31:53, Genesis 18:25; 1 Samuel 24:15. 28. Howbeit the king of the children of Ammon hearkened not unto the words of Jephthah which he sent him. 29. Then the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah [endowing him with courage and wisdom], and he passed over ["he swept through the land from end to end to kindle the torch of war, and raise the population"] Gilead, and Manasseh, and passed over Mizpeh of Gilead, and from Mipzeh of Gilead he passed over unto the children of Ammon [went to attack them]. 30. And Jephthah vowed a vow ["A practice among all ancient nations, but especially among the Jews: Genesis 28:20-22; 1 Samuel 1:11; 2 Samuel 15:8; Psalms 66:13."] unto the Lord, and said, If thou shalt without fail deliver the children of Ammon into mine hands, 31. Then it shall be, that whatsoever cometh forth ["Jephthah ignorant as he was,— being a man of semi-heathen parentage, and long familiarised with heathen surroundings— contemplated a human sacrifice." St. Augustine ridicules the idea that there is any reference to a mere animal.] of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return in peace from the children of Ammon, shall surely be the Lord's, and I will offer it up for a burnt-offering. 32. So [And] Jephthah passed over unto the children of Ammon to fight against them; and the Lord delivered them into his hands. 33. And he smote them from Aroer, even till thou come to Minnith [Maanith, four miles from Heshbon], even twenty cities, and unto the plain of the vineyards, with a very great slaughter. Thus the children of Ammon were subdued before the children of Israel. 34. And Jephthah came to Mizpeh unto his house, and behold, his daughter came out to meet him with timbrels and with dances: [As Miriam went to meet Moses (Exodus 15:20); and the women to meet Saul and David (1 Samuel 18:6-7)] and she was his only child; beside her he had neither son nor daughter. 35. And it came to pass, when he saw her, that he rent his clothes [" Every Jew on approaching Jerusalem for the first time has to submit to the Krie, i.e., to a cut made in his sleeve, as a sort of symbol of rending his clothes."], and said, Alas, my daughter! thou hast brought me very low [crushing, thou hast crushed me], and thou art one of them that trouble me: for I have opened my mouth unto the Lord [a vow to be binding, must have been actually expressed in words], and I cannot go back [no room was left for mental reservations: Leviticus 27:28-29]. 36. And she said unto him, My father, if [omit if] thou hast opened thy mouth unto the Lord, do to me according to that which hath proceeded out of thy mouth; forasmuch as the Lord hath taken vengeance for thee of thine enemies, even of the children of Ammon. 37. And she said unto her father, Let this thing be done for me: Let me alone two months, that I may go up and down upon the mountains, and bewail my virginity, [The thought most intolerable to a Hebrew maiden was to die unwedded and childless. In this case there was additional bitterness because she was an only child, and in her early death prophecy would seem to come to nought] I and my fellows. 38. And he said, Go. And he sent her away for two months: and she went with her companions, and bewailed her virginity upon the mountains. 39. And it came to pass at the end of two months, that she returned unto her father, who did with her according to his vow which he had vowed [offered her up for a burnt offering]: and she knew no man. And it was a custom in Israel [the Targum of Jonathan adds— "in order that no one should make his son or his daughter a burnt offering as Jephthah did, and did not consult Phinehas the priest," who would have redeemed her with money], 40. That the daughters of Israel went yearly to lament [to praise or celebrate] the daughter of Jephthah the Gileadite four days in a year. Jephthah was an illegitimate son. His brethren were cruel to him: they thrust him out, and said unto him, "Thou shalt not inherit in our father's house; for thou art the son of a strange woman." (Judges 11:2). So the man was driven away. That is the first picture. The man was unfortunate, not criminal. He was the victim of circumstances. Why should society be so cruel? Is a man to be blamed because he was born blind? Who does not thrust the cripple away when there is a great feast, or a grand show, or some occasion of family pride and delight? Who does not hide the thing that is unpleasant? This is the mystery of society— that we should fix responsibility where there is none, and be very light in our thought concerning responsibility where it is evident and incommunicable— that is to say, where it is fastened upon the individual and cannot be transferred to any other person. There is something wrong here in social thought. Who does not gather himself up in a kind of conscious or unconscious disdain and look severely and repudiatingly upon a man who has come into the world under infinite disadvantages? We should show a better quality if we were more kindly disposed towards such, saying to them in effect: Poor souls! you had a bad beginning; the time will go heavy with you; you have somehow come into a world that is lacking in compassion and magnanimity; but, in God's name, some of us will stand by you, and help you, and make the world as glad for you as we can. That would be noble chivalry; that would be the very Spirit of Christ. So Jephthah is doomed to everlasting obscurity: is he? The Lord is very pitiful and kind. Jephthah was disreputable in birth, but he was illustrious in faith. That is your opportunity! However you came into the world you may go out of it a gentleman, a hero, a saint Says the Apostle: "What shall I more say? for the time will fail me to tell of Gideon, and of Barak, and of Samson, and of Jephthah." So when his mocking brothers or alien kin are all forgotten, the bastard Jephthah stands out elect, precious— a mighty man in faith as in valour. Cheer ye! you may yet have a time of gladness. There is no difficulty that is not conquerable. Many a time your disadvantages will be thrown in your face. When you are advancing with terrific pace upon the foremost men and threatening to overrun them, they will not forget your birth and your disadvantages. Every one of them will be turned into a stone, which will be thrown at you, but not one of the stones will strike you. Never mind what is thrown— have your purpose right and good, and God will defend you. So "Jephthah fled from his brethren, and dwelt in the land of Tob" (Judges 11:3)— perhaps in the land of his maternal ancestors. There is room enough in the world. Do not crowd one another so. If there is a family difference, a disagreement of a painful kind, you will find that Space may be turned into a kind of reconciliation. Divide, separate: there is wonderful healing in fresh air, and in new sunshine, and in new scenery and surroundings. If you are thrust out, it may be the making of you. Some men would have been better today if they had been driven from home. They have grown not one visible inch during the last quarter of a century. A little hardship would have been the making of them; it would have awakened them all through and through, so that most of them would not have been asleep, but every faculty would have become a burning point, a centre of new vitality. Jephthah went, and he left the shame with his brothers. That must be the law of life, if we would follow Christ. Behave you like a gentleman, however much others may mock you and persecute you. Let the shame be theirs! Wear them out by the very patience of goodness; be so constant in all nobleness, truth, honour, and genuine goodness, that at last they will give up, saying, Truly this man is a son of God! Marvellous are the healings of time and space, mountains and seas. Was there, then, no compensation? Was there nothing but disadvantage in the life of Jephthah? The question turns us back again to the first verse:— "Now Jephthah... was a mighty man of valour." Even his mother might not be without great qualities. Surely the mother lives again in the son. She was a giantess of a mother, fit to be the mother of kings. Do not scatter your contempt about too freehandedly. You cannot tell whom you are undervaluing, and whom you are attempting to deride. Your virtue may consist of some one point of respectability, and the person you contemn may be a person whose shoe's latchet you are not worthy to unloose. God knows what is in every man, woman, and child. He does not fix his eye upon little points or great, but takes in the whole man, the entire life, in its whole bulk and weight and force. Jephthah has a fortune in himself. The young man who went out from his father's house with the portion of goods that fell to him, had a fortune in his hand, not in his head— not in his heart; and whatever is in the hand only may be spent, for there is nothing so easy as spending: any fool can learn the art without a premium. Jephthah's fortune was internal, spiritual; within him, in his mind, not yet awakened: for that gigantic body habited a mind worthy of itself. Study the law of compensations. If a dozen boys are playing at a game, and there is a cripple amongst them, the cripple is the winning man; nothing can stand before the cripple; all the handsome boys will be behind. You may have seen this again and again. It seems to be a kind of law of nature. Where a man is unable to speak much, you should see one of his letters— every sentence meaning something, and there is more in one page of his letters than in all the epistles some of the most fluent speakers ever wrote. See a man who is very timid under some circumstances, and that same man may be as bold as a lion under others: in the first instance the circumstances were not equal to the man— they did not awake him; the latter appealed to his best quality. So it is all through and through life. The unsuccessful man may have a happy temperament, which is worth a very great amount as to quietness and happiness and music. God hath not left any of his creatures without some token of blessing, some point of light, some gift all his own. Search for that particular gift, and make it the beginning of heaven. You may be driven out, but how strong you are! You may be derided by others, but how wonderfully you can take care of yourself! Look at the bright side, and though you be driven into far-away lands, yet, with a soul touching God's great economies, and drawing out of them all nutriment and inspiration, every land is home. Now came a period of trial. The brethren got into trouble: "The children of Ammon made war against Israel" (Judges 11:5). But a bastard might not reign in Israel; so it was written in the law. Jephthah, therefore, must keep out of the way; the captaincy is forbidden to him. There were social reasons for this, strong enough for their time, adapted to the civilisation which they ruled. What, then, was to be done? A provision was made for overgetting the difficulty. Such a man must be called to the captaincy by the elders. Hence we find "the elders of Gilead," including the brethren, in a formal and official manner "went to fetch Jephthah out of the land of Tob" (Judges 11:5). Now we see a turn in the wheel of Providence which is not unusual. The elders said unto Jephthah, "Come, and be our captain, that we may fight with the children of Ammon" (Judges 11:6). Jephthah was but a man; who can be more, unless he be crucified with Christ— unless the life he now live in the flesh be a life of faith of the Son of God? "And Jephthah said unto the elders of Gilead, Did not ye hate me, and expel me out of my father's house? and why are ye come unto me now when ye are in distress?" (Judges 11:7). Your opportunity will come, and you will feel that question though you may not ask it. When men are in distress they seem almost inspired to be able to find out one's address. We think we are well concealed, and it will be impossible for any person whom we wish to avoid to find out where we are; but there is a kind of invisible directory they get hold of, and as soon as the wolf is upon them they are upon us. Who could keep back the question, "Why are ye come unto me now when ye are in distress? "— remember the old times when you were hard with me, and thrust me away, hardly giving me a garment with which to cover my shoulders, sending me away from my father's house without a blessing or a cheer, without one word of prayer or benediction, without a single "God bless you" to shorten the road and brighten the end; why are ye come to me now? If we push the question too much, we shall show that we are unworthy of the honour which is sought to be conferred upon us. Joseph showed a right spirit when he said to his brethren, "Now, therefore, be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves.... It was not you... but God." Jephthah was not so well instructed. Presently we shall find that he did not know the law of Israel, for if he had known it he would have saved himself infinite pain. How could Jephthah know the law? We thrust men out of their houses, drive them away into far lands, and then blame them for not being as civilised as we are, as highly educated, as fully trained. This is the evil way of the human spirit when it is not subdued and sanctified. We give men no chances, we turn them out into the bare desert, we treat them as if they were of inferior quality: and then if they make a slip or mistake, or commit offence, we charge them with ignorance of the law. We first make the heathen, then we deride him, and at last we feebly attempt to convert him! Have we not driven away many? What this land has to answer for, and many other lands, in the way of exiling men from their natural positions and opportunities! Surely the day must come when our Christian preachers will not be afraid to read and preach the whole Bible. When that day comes there will be a sword in the country, there will be a fire in the earth! Now we read the comforting promises, the tender exhortations, we apply all the needful solaces, and call such reading and preaching honouring the Bible! There is no fire so hot as the fire that burns in God's Book, in relation to all sin, injustice, irrational and oppressive inequality. The wrath of the Lamb is such wrath as cannot burn in evil breasts. Jephthah said, "If ye bring me home again"— we cannot get rid of that word" home"; it follows us into the land of Tob, and into every land, and makes a song for itself— "to fight against the children of Ammon, and the Lord deliver them before me, shall I be your head? And the elders of Gilead said unto Jephthah, The Lord be witness between us, if we do not so according to thy words" (Judges 11:9-10.) It is really a pitiful moment when one gets the better of the enemy. There is something so crouching in the humiliation of the foe that we almost wish the conquest had never been effected. The elders of Israel would do anything, give anything, promise anything, if this great Samson in anticipation would only come and deliver them from the children of Ammon. Then came the battle and the victory. Jephthah stated his case in a statesmanlike manner (Judges 11:12-27, ante, p. 71). There is nothing furious in the claim; history is stated, victories are avouched, and a claim is made. Jephthah wishes to be strong in justice. If a man is not morally strong even an arm of iron may be broken and sinews of brass may be melted. Have right on your side. That is the coat-of-mail. There is no crevice in it. Let the arrows come with the thickness of rain; they will fall harmlessly at your feet. Jephthah was a superstitious man, not well trained in the law. How could he be? He was full of a wild kind of superstition. "Then the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah, and he passed over Gilead, and Manasseh, and passed over Mizpeh of Gilead, and from Mizpeh of Gilead he passed over unto the children of Ammon" (Judges 11:29)— passed like a mighty tempest! Who can arrest a man who is made mad by the divine presence? He was not inspired in the prophetic or apostolic sense of the term, but he was "possessed "; he was no more himself, but a tabernacle of the living God. He had a purpose to realise, and God was in him that that purpose might be consummated. Jephthah made a vow. He said that whoever came out of his house when he returned should be offered in sacrifice (Judges 11:30-31). "And Jephthah came to Mizpeh unto his house, and, behold, his daughter came out to meet him with timbrels and with dances: and she was his only child; beside her he had neither son nor daughter" (Judges 11:34). Here he was just as steadfast as at the earlier points of his history. There is a wonderful consistency about the man. When he saw the child, "he rent his clothes, and said, Alas, my daughter! thou hast brought me very low, and thou art one of them that trouble me; for I have opened my mouth unto the Lord, and I cannot go back" (Judges 11:35). So he was a great man even in his heathenism. But he did not know the law, we have said. If he had been allowed to remain at home, and to study the law and acquaint himself with the ordinances of Israel, he might have known that provision was made for this very crisis. Oh, had one been at hand that day to whisper in his ear, "And if it be a female, then thy estimation shall be thirty shekels" (Leviticus 27:4)! Jephthah did not know that in the law there was mercy hidden. Jephthah was not aware that all the great necessities of life have been anticipated by providential economies, and that heaven's great, sweet law provides against the rashness and the madness into which we are plunged by our sin. For "thirty shekels" he could have redeemed his vow, and his only child might have been spared! Search the Bible for the way out of your difficulty. Everything is in the Book of God. Whatever your sorrow or strait, sit down to the inspired volume and read it until you find the gate that opens upon liberty; it is unquestionably in the Bible. All the deepest questions man has ever asked were answered before they were propounded. Who can be before the Lord, or prevent the Eternal? Into the mystery of what then happened we cannot enter. The daughter was worthy of the father. She said, "If thou hast opened thy mouth unto the Lord, do to me according to that which hath proceeded out of thy mouth" (Judges 11:36). We sometimes understand fathers best by studying the children. Jephthah's child had in her the making of a great woman. So the compensations of Providence are a million in number. They come upon a man at unexpected points, and they cheer him in the most critical distresses. Jephthah might have felt himself filled with a pride pleasing to heaven, as he heard his child utter this sublime reply. Men are sacrificing their daughters today in quite as heathenish a manner as Jephthah ever sacrificed his only child. There is less hope of them. They have passed through Moses and the prophets, the evangelists and the apostles, in so far as their moral teaching is concerned; and the men in question have come out of the process more obdurate and worldly than ever. Are there not men today who are saying, If I can marry my child to a rich man I shall be satisfied; no matter what his belief, no matter what his conduct, wealth is the one condition? Such men are cruel; they are not fit to live. They may not put the case to themselves quite so boldly; they may throw a good deal of social decoration around their proposals; but if at the heart of those proposals there is this idea of wealth, then truly their condemnation is just. There is only one thing perhaps worse than this, and that is that a daughter should vow herself away on this mean altar. But are there not people who are saying, If there is wealth, no matter what else there is or is not? What can come of an association of that kind, but disappointment, bitterness, death? Are there not some also who are saying: I dedicate my children to enjoyment; they must have a good opportunity in the world, for life is brief and chances are few, and they must not be brought up to slave as I have slaved: they must be saved from hard work, and drudgery, and humiliation; they shall run with the footmen and outstrip the horsemen in the race of time? Poor fools! they, too, are cruel. There is no kindness like the kindness of bringing up a child to work. He ought to be punished by society who leaves his child without a trade or a means of obtaining an honest living. These are the vices to frown down. These are the injustices that ought to be put down. The children will arise to condemn the memory that ought to have been for ever kept clean. Dedicate your children to honesty, industry, self-reliance, sobriety, honour. Tell them there is a poverty which is wealth, and a wealth which is poverty: a repute which is infamous, and a repudiation of a social kind which amounts to a real crowning and enthronement. If we cannot look for these things from Christian people, from whom can we expect them? This is the Spirit of Christ. In all things he was our example— in making his living, in giving an equivalent for everything he received, in giving himself for the life of the world. "If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." "To him that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin." I know of no cruelty so great as to substitute a momentary kindness for a lifelong discipline. Let us learn that every direction suited to the education and development of human life is to be found in the Book of God. He who walks by this book will walk straight into heaven; he will make no permanent mistakes; he may sometimes have a rod in his hand; sometimes his face may be darkened by a frown; sometimes his voice may tremble with menace; but, pursuing the course of education marked down in God's Book, at the last his children shall bless him, and they will speak with their father's enemies in the gate, if he should ever need to be vindicated or his honour to be upheld. Let us stand by the Bible— preach, read, study, proclaim the Bible. Human life has no necessity that has not been anticipated by the living Book of the living God. Selected Note Volumes have been written on the subject of "Jephthah's rash vow;" the question being whether, in doing to his daughter "according to his vow," he really did offer her in sacrifice or not. The negative has been stoutly maintained by many able pens, from a natural anxiety to clear the character of one of the heroes in Israel from so dark a stain. But the more the plain rules of common sense have been exercised in our view of Biblical transactions, and the better we have succeeded in realizing a distinct idea of the times in which Jephthah lived and of the position which he occupied, the less reluctance there has been to admit the interpretation which the first view of the passage suggests to every reader, which is, that he really did offer her in sacrifice. The explanation which denies this maintains that she was rather doomed to perpetual celibacy, and this, as it appears to us, on the strength of phrases which to one who really understands the character of the Hebrew people and their language suggest nothing more than that it was considered a lamentable thing for any daughter of Israel to die childless. To live unmarried was required by no law, custom, or devotement among the Jews; no one had a right to impose so odious a condition on another, nor is any such condition implied or expressed in the vow which Jephthah uttered. To get rid of a difficulty which has no place in the text, but arises from our reluctance to receive that text in its obvious meaning, we invent a new thing in Israel, a thing never heard of among the Hebrews in ancient or modern times, and more entirely opposed to their peculiar notions than anything which the wit of man ever devised, such as that a damsel should be consecrated to perpetual virginity in consequence of a vow of her father, which vow itself says nothing of the kind. If people allow themselves to be influenced in their interpretations of Scripture by dislike to take the words in their obvious meaning, we might at least expect that the explanations they would have us receive should be in accordance with the notions of the Hebrew people, instead of being entirely and obviously opposed to them. The Jewish commentators themselves generally admit that Jephthah really sacrificed his daughter; and even go so far as to allege that the change in the pontifical dynasty from the house of Eleazar to that of Ithamar was caused by the high-priest of the time having suffered this transaction to take place. Professor Bush maintains with us that a human sacrifice was all along contemplated. But he suggests that during the two months, Jephthah might have obtained better information respecting the nature of vows, by which he would have learned that his daughter could not be legally offered, but might be redeemed at a valuation (Leviticus 27:2-12). This is possible, and is much more likely than the popular alternative of perpetual celibacy; but we have serious doubts whether even this meets the conclusion that "he did with her according to his vow." Besides, in this case, where was the ground for the annual "lamentations" of the daughters of Israel, or even for the "celebrations" which some understand the word to mean? —Kitto. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"Why are ye come unto me now when ye are in distress? "—Judges 11:7. A proper inquiry to address to all applicants.— A rebuke is implied in the terms of the question.— The men had not come before. Up to this time they had disowned Jephthah; now in distress they wished to make use of him.— Circumstances test friendships and the reality and unselfishness of appeals.— God is always exposed to this kind of prayer.— Why thus ill-treat and dishonour God in the very act, as we suppose, of recognising his existence and goodness?— God does not ask us why we have come to him, but why we have come to him in distress; the coming itself is right, but the time— namely, the time of distress— may give peculiar significance to our approach.— This is a great hold which God has upon the human race.— The time of distress comes in every life, and in that hour men ask the greatest questions, and are, as it were, forced into the exercise of prayer.— When pain seizes the body, or when difficulty perplexes the circumstances, when severe family affliction clouds the house, when death has sent its forecast into the heart of the family, then men may begin to cry out for the living God.— God interrogates us, as Jephthah interrogated the elders of Gilead.— Our answer must often be one of pitiful humiliation.— God does not intend to disown us or repel us by asking the question; his purpose is to make us acquainted with ourselves, and to show us how complex is the structure and action of human motives.— Selfishness cannot pray.— Selfishness can beg, implore, intreat, whine, and make tragical appeals; but selfishness cannot get near enough to God to commune with him, or in the true sense to ask a favour at his hands.— The prayers of the wicked are an abomination unto the Lord.— If the prayer of our selfishness is answered, it is not because it is a selfish prayer, but because of God's infinite graciousness. Judges 121. And the men of Ephraim gathered themselves together [literally, were called together; the same phrase in chap. Judges 7:23-24], and went northward [in order to cross the Jordan fords. Mizpeh in Gilead lay to the north-east of the tribe of Ephraim], and said unto Jephthah, Wherefore passedst thou over to fight against the children of Ammon, and didst not call us ["the tribe of Ephraim throughout the book of Judges is represented in a most unenviable light." Compare the similar complaint of the Ephraimites to Gideon, chap. Judges 8:1; see also Joshua 17:14-18] to go with thee? We will burn thine house upon thee with fire [that is, we will burn thee alive in thy house; a threat which shows somewhat the wildness of the times. See a similar threat in chap. Joshua 14:15, and an execution of it in chap. Joshua 15:6. Burning was a mode of capital punishment; see Genesis 38:24; Joshua 7:25]. 2. And Jephthah said unto them, I and my people were at great strife with the children of Ammon [literally, I was a man of strife, I and my people, and the children of Ammon exceedingly. For a similar phrase, see Jeremiah 15:10]; and when I called you, ye delivered me not out of their hands. [The Ephraimites held themselves selfishly aloof. When Jephthah says, "I called you," he speaks in the person of Gilead or of the Gileadites]. 3. And when I saw that ye delivered me not, I put my life in my hands [in the hollow of my hand], and passed over against the children of Ammon, and the Lord delivered them into my hand [Jephthah makes his appeal to Jehovah]: wherefore then are ye come up unto me this day [for the phrase "come up," see chap. Jeremiah 1:1-16], to fight against me? 4. Then Jephthah gathered together all the men of Gilead [under great provocation. By "the men of Gilead," understand the eastern tribes generally], and fought with Ephraim: and the men of Gilead smote Ephraim, because they said [here the translation and meaning are regarded by eminent critics as highly uncertain: one says that it seems to be "implied that in spite of Jephthah's perfectly reasonable answer the Ephraimites advanced to attack Gilead, and goaded the Gileadites to fury by intolerable taunts, which prevented the Gileadites from giving any quarter when they had won the victory "], Ye Gileadites are fugitives of Ephraim [an extremely obscure passage. The Speaker's Commentary gives the following as the most grammatically correct and natural rendering of this and the two following verses: "The men of Gilead smote Ephraim, for they, the Gileadites, said, Ye are fugitives to Ephraim (Gilead lies between Ephraim and Manasseh); and Gilead took the fords of Jordan before Ephraim, and it came to pass, when the fugitives of Ephraim said, Let me pass over, and the Gileadites asked him, Art thou an Ephraimite? and he answered, No; then said the Gileadites to him, Say Shibboleth, etc., so they, the Gileadites, slew them at the ford of Jordan], among the Ephraimites, and among the Manassites. 5. And the Gileadites took the passages of Jordan [because only through them could the Ephraimites escape to their own tribe] before the Ephraimites [literally, to Ephraim]: and it was so, that when those Ephraimites which were escaped [fugitives to Ephraim. It has been suggested that a bitter retribution may be implied in these words. "The Ephraimites had taunted the eastern Manassites with being fugitives to Ephraim, and in the next verse they themselves appear to be in another but fatal sense fugitives to Ephraim] said, Let me go over; that the men of Gilead said unto him, Art thou an Ephraimite? If he said, Nay; 6. Then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth [a ford; depth of waters; water-flood; channel]; and he said Sibboleth [according to The Speaker's Commentary, this is a curious instance of dialectic difference of pronunciation between the east and west Jordanic tribes.... The sh may have been as impossible for an Ephraimite to pronounce as th is to a Frenchman]: for he could not frame to pronounce it right. ["Archdeacon Farrar says, 'On May 25th, 1802, all the French were detected by their inability to pronounce the words,' scilt, end, friend."] Then they took him, and slew him at the passages of Jordan [the Arabic version says, they led him across, but the word means rather massacred, butchered]: and there fell at that time of the Ephraimites forty and two thousand [not necessarily that they were all butchered, but only that that was the number of the invading army; it may include the slain in battle and those killed at the fords; see chap. Jeremiah 4:16]. 7. And Jephthah judged Israel [his authority embracing all Israel after the subjugation of the Ephraimites] six years. Then died Jephthah the Gileadite, and was buried in one of the cities of Gilead [literally, in cities of Gilead; according to the LXX. in his city, Gilead,— that is, Ramoth-Gilead, or Mizpeh of Gilead]. 8. And after him Ibzan [about whom nothing further is known than is found in these three verses; some have supposed him the same as Boaz] of Bethlehem [Josephus assumes that Bethlehem-Judah is here meant] judged Israel. 9. And he had thirty sons, and thirty daughters [implying polygamy, wealth, and great state. Compare 2 Kings x. I and Judges 8:30], whom he sent abroad [whom he gave in marriage out of his house], and took in thirty daughters from abroad for his sons. And he judged Israel seven years. 10. Then died Ibzan, and was buried at Bethlehem. 11. And after him Elon [the name means a Terebinth: it is customary for Orientals even now to name their children from trees. Archdeacon Farrar says that one of his muleteers in Palestine was named "Father of Olives "], a Zebulonite, judged Israel; and he judged Israel ten years. 12. And Elon the Zebulonite died, and was buried in Aijalon [a place in the tribe of Zebulun, not elsewhere mentioned: where the vowel-points are omitted, the names Elon and Aiialon are identical in Hebrew] in the country of Zebulun. 13. And after him Abdon [servant] the son of Hillel [praising. The Rabbi called Hillel is regarded as by far the greatest and best of the Rabbis], a Pirathonite [and therefore of the tribe of Ephraim], judged Israel. 14. And he had forty sons and thirty nephews [the Hebrew has, sons of sons: the word "nephews" in our version always means grandsons, "nieces" is a word which means granddaughters in Wyclif's Bible], that rode on threescore and ten ass colts [implying wealth and distinction]: and he judged Israel eight years. 15. And Abdon the son of Hillel the Pirathonite died, and was buried in Pirathon [now called Feratah, six miles west of Shechem] in the land of Ephraim, in the mount of the Amalekites [pointing to an early settlement of Amalekites in Central Palestine. "The twenty-five years, apparently consecutive ones, occupied by the judgeship of Ibzan, Elon, and Abdon, seem to have been very uneventful and prosperous, since the only record of them preserved in the annals of their country relates to the flourishing families and peaceful magnificence of two of their number.... Jephthah's victory over the enemies of Israel was followed by twenty-five years of peace under three judges.... All the three belong to the western tribes. The first from Bethlehem, the second from Zebulun, and the third from Ephraim.] [The venerable John Trapp, remarking on Judges 8:6, says, "They were discerned by their lisping, their dialect betrayed them. How many have we that can hardly lisp out a syllable of good language, and if they attempt it, falter fearfully." On Judges 8:14 he quaintly remarks, "In Persia the peasant never rideth; the gentleman never goeth on foot, but fighteth, tradeth, con-ferreth, doeth, all on horseback."] Shibboleth WE have just inquired, Is Abimelech dead? and to that inquiry we received a very decisive reply. Are the Ephraimites dead? Are they clean gone for ever? To this inquiry what reply can we discover in the history which is now before us? Why concern ourselves about an extinct tribe? Principally because we deny that the tribe is extinct. There are no extinct tribes where great moral characteristics and inspirations are concerned. Men die, but Man lives. The individual type seems to modify, and to pass away by development or by extinction, but a certain ground-line runs through all human history; there is a purpose in it, there is a grand central idea which abides. This we shall see if we study the history of Ephraim, as revealed in this incident connected with the war of Jephthah upon the children of Ammon. Are the Ephraimites dead? Are they dead who are hard upon a man when he is in circumstances of extremity? Are they dead who do not fear to strike the last blow upon a man who is supposed to be staggering and to be unable to resist? Jephthah was exhausted. The war had been a triumphant one, but even triumph is succeeded by exhaustion. Prosperity takes out of a man the very energy which he was required to show in securing the honour. Great efforts are followed by great weaknesses. Added to this, there was a vow claiming execution. The only child was away upon the mountains on a two months' respite, and in this time of extremity and agony, proud and arrogant Ephraim came to ask a question and deliver a threatening. Are the Ephraimites, then, dead? Have they no successors? Are we now quite patient, after the manner of Christ, with men who are tired, for the moment outworn, and to whose physical exhaustion great mental prostration is added? If so— if there are no such men; if there are no such cruel proposals and demands; if there are no such untimely and aggravating threats, then the Ephraimites are dead, and shame be to the preacher who would exhume such men even that he might rebuke their forgotten wickedness. Are the Ephraimites quite dead? Are there not men who cannot bear that anything should be done but by themselves— men who will deny the victory rather than award the merit? Are there not men who would not allow even the world to be converted but under their inspiration, and guidance, and cooperation? Are there Christian communions which deny to one another that they are accomplishing real and solid good in society? Is there a spirit of criticism which says, "The work may be only in appearance— a kind of superficial work is no doubt being done, but time will test and time will tell," a spirit which hampers and frets great Christian aggressions by narrow-minded and impious criticism? Ephraim could not bear that the battle should be won in which Ephraim had taken no part We measure successes by the part which we ourselves have in them. If we were not in the fray, leading it, and causing it to issue in victory, how can we suppose that the fray was other than a tumult in which there was neither reason nor righteousness? Are the Ephraimites quite dead? Are there not people who profess to be offended because they were not invited? Ephraim said, "Wherefore passedst thou over to fight against the children of Ammon, and didst not call us to go with thee?" (Judges 12:1). We stand much upon the etiquette of invitation. We are so self-restrained, and so conscious of intolerable modesty, that unless we are properly invited to pray we will not worship God, and unless we are besought almost by deputation to take an interest in Christian service we will stand back in unchristian resentment. There are people who must be invited every day. What they suppose themselves to be it is almost impossible to tell. But they must be invited, entreated; the impression must be produced upon them that the universe would go out like a dying spark if they did not come to its patronage and sustenance. They have to be courted by the Church, waited upon, sedulously attended to. If a card should be sent to other people and not to them they would have no part or lot in the matter. Their dignity perish with them! They have no right to be in the Church. They are spots in the feast of charity. Who issues the invitations? The Lord. Whose battle is it? The battle is not yours, but God's. For whom do we work when we open the door, light the lamp, throw in the coin of charity? Is it for the minister— for some man? Then why this sensitiveness? Why this retirement to bed, and covering oneself up with all the clothes, and sweltering in an undeserved and unrecognised obscurity? Who called us to the service? Our call is from eternity. We respond to a divine decree and purpose, and as we were not born of men into this service we do not own their rulership: we are the sons of God, and we will work, whoever sends for us, or ignores us, or praises us. That is the spirit of consecration, and any other spirit in any man, in the pulpit or out of it, is not of God. Reason would be shocked were we to go into detail upon this matter. The childishness, the pettishness, the resentment, which we see in some poor souls, would discourage the strongest heart, were not our trust put in the living God. When such Ephraimites retire, are they any loss? Yes, they are: when they have gone we have lost folly, pride, petulance, arrogance and a great burden which we carried with a sense of intolerable pain. Are the Ephraimites quite dead? Are they dead who have curiously forgotten their own faithlessness in the past? Jephthah said, "When I called you, ye delivered me not out of their hands. And when I saw that ye delivered me not, I put my life in my hands, and passed over against the children of Ammon, and the Lord delivered them into my hand" (Judges 12:2-3). Men curiously forget the invitations that they have actually received. They put them aside, because they were not willing to obey them; and having put them out of sight, they have put them out of memory; and having put them out of memory, they impiously deny their existence. The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Were the Ephraimites, then, so brave and bold and constant in all faithfulness that they should criticise the action of Jephthah? People should be very careful how they criticise. The popular proverb is a wise one which says, "They who live in glass houses should not throw stones." Jephthah remembered the case. He had not forgotten sending for the Ephraimites at a critical time in his history, and the Ephraimites paid no heed to his cry. We cannot always be sending for the men who are supposed to be neglected. There is a point at which common reason says, No; we will send no more for you. There is a point indeed at which decency can proceed no further. The people who have always to be sought, and always to be sent for, and always to be implored to come, will break the patience they have misunderstood, and will come to the ruin which they deserve. Are the Ephraimites quite dead? Are they dead in whom envy culminates in revenge? "We will burn thine house upon thee with fire" (Judges 12:1). They had better have reckoned with the enemy first. Some houses are not easily lighted. The spirit of men, however, is here clearly revealed. They envied Jephthah his honours, and envy has but a short distance to go to reach revenge. What will not envy do? Of what is it compounded? Of what hateful juices is that devil's cup made up,— envy, the spirit that has no generous word even for a friend, much less an antagonist; envy, that reduces everything that is done to the lowest possible point; envy, so critical in vision, so unjust in criticism; envy, that, serpent-like, entwines itself around the heart, and transforms what ought to be a fountain of benevolence into a fountain of deadly bitterness? Envy cannot rest in mere criticism. Envy must do mischief: not only is there a condemnatory word, but there is a word of menace: the inward fire expresses itself in outward conflagration. Beware of the very first symptom of envy, jealousy! Cultivate the noble spirit,— the spirit of appreciation and recognition, and if in this respect you water others, you shall be divinely watered yourselves; your heart shall be as an abundant harvest field, laden with the very gold of heaven. Are they dead who are insolent, who descend to the use of contemptuous taunts? If not, then the Ephraimites are not dead. The Ephraimites said to Jephthah and his tribe, "Ye Gileadites are fugitives of Ephraim among the Ephraimites, and among the Manassites" (Judges 12:4). You belong to neither one tribe nor another; ye upstarts, ye off-scouring, how dare you fight without asking us to lead you? That tribe can come to no good. Watch its history, and see whether such vaunting can end in honour. Are insolent men dead? the men who stealthily pick up stones and carry them until a suitable opportunity arises for throwing them at those who have outrun them and outfought them in the war? Are you ever reminded of your lowly parentage? Is it ever whispered that you were not born in royal circles? Does any adversary ever give the hint, quite in a Christian spirit, and in a fine and beautiful hypocrisy, that you were not born as highly and famously as he was, albeit the place of his birth has not to this day been discovered, though it might possibly have been found out if the lowest creature on earth had thought it worth while to put the vain and useless inquiry? Jephthah was stunned by this taunt. Many a man can bear a threat to have his house burned who cannot endure too much impertinence. Some noble natures have chafed under insolence who could have gone with some steadfastness even to martyrdom. Jephthah was roused. He now came to a kind of war he would have avoided if he could. So long as it was a heathenish war a battle with the enemy, he was equal to the occasion; but when the battle became internecine, of the nature of a family feud, partaking somewhat of the quality of civil war, his soul revolted. So long as it was Ammon, the outward heathen enemy, he was not unprepared to go forward even alone to fight the foe. But who would enter into a family feud, a tribal dispute? Who would not rather half apologise, and explain as far as possible, and swallow somewhat, rather than play the foul game of Cain and Abel? Jephthah was quiet, almost as quiet as Gideon at the first when the same Ephraimites assailed him. Jephthah said: I did send for you; I wanted you to come; I did not forget your high position; but when ye did not come I put my life in my hand; I had my life on my palm, like a loose bird that might at any moment fly away, and in that condition I went out to fight Ammon, and I take no merit or undue praise to myself: "The Lord delivered them into my hand: wherefore then are ye come up unto me this day, to fight against me?" He reasons well! There is a touch of condescension in his reasoning which detracts nothing from its dignity and cogency. Presently they will go too far with him. Ephraim said, "Ye are but the fugitives of the tribes, ill-born, ill-bred; Ephraim will not have you; Manasseh will not have you; you are playing between the two, being outcast of both,— away with you!" It was enough! We shall see who was overthrown. The Gileadites took the fords of the Jordan, and said in effect, "Every man who passes here will have to give a good reason for his doing so." When any man said, "Let me go over," the men of Gilead said unto him, "Art thou an Ephraimite?" Now we have come to real conflict Apologies are no excuse at this point, nor explanations. Every man now holds his life who can hold it. If the man said, No, I am not an Ephraimite, they tested him: they said unto him, "Say now Shibboleth: and he said Sibboleth: for he could not frame to pronounce it right Then they took him, and slew him at the passages of Jordan: and there fell at that time of the Ephraimites forty and two thousand." Do not interfere with divinely-qualified soldiers. They may expose themselves to your criticism now and again, but in so far as they are divinely qualified they will conquer at the last. There will be a period of apology and self-exculpation, there will be moments given up to explanatory statements; but let them alone, they cannot be slain. If you apply fire to their houses, the very houses will not burn. They must win, because they are sent of God. Sometimes we misapply the use of this word Shibboleth— as, indeed, what do we not misapply when we come into the spiritual interpretation of the Bible? Now the phrase is used in this sense,— namely: if we cannot pronounce the Shibboleth of a sect we are regarded as heterodox. It has become quite a proverb amongst us, has this use of the word Shibboleth. Men defend themselves by saying one to another, Although we cannot pronounce your Shibboleth, we claim to be independent and accurate thinkers. The term Shibboleth has no relation whatever to that kind of remark. The test was put, not as a test of orthodoxy, but as a test of character, and is it not true that character is tested by little things? Regarding a Christian country, the men are comparatively few in number who are guilty of great crimes or aggravated transgressions against the state, or against one another. How many men could arise and indignantly repel great impeachments: but the question relates to little matters: and what can test character more than little experiments, minute utterances and observances? We may not have sinned against God, or against one another, in a manner that could be called romantic or tragical, but what about the little offences, the minor immoralities, the white lies, the leaving out the words of letters which give them their real meaning? What about mispronunciation, false accent, calculated emphasis so laid on as to give false colour to the thought that is being uttered? What about attitudes, postures, hints? What about unuttered defamations? What about "hesitated dislike"? It is along that line you know whether men can say Shibboleth or Sibboleth. The leaving out of a syllable changes the whole message; the introduction of false emphasis is destructive of integrity. Let us, therefore, examine ourselves in so-called little things and minute ceremonies and utterances: then what hand has not done the wrong deed? What tongue has not spoken in the wrong tone, if not in the wrong language? Who, then, can claim to be white-robed? Who can say of himself that his purity is like the snow, untrodden, and unstained? We must not recede from the application of such passages by limiting them to sectarian differences, or metaphysical contrasts; but follow out the exact line of the thought, and then we shall come to a test of sincerity, a test of truthfulness, a test of character,— we shall know whether a man is trying to save his life at the expense of truth. The Ephraimite said in effect: "I will tell any number of lies, if you will only let me escape." But the Ephraimites have mocked the Gileadites— let them mock them now! So it shall be at the great upwinding of things. Sceptics, assailants, enemies of Christ and his cross, have yet to meet that same Christ in an official examination. The war does not end just now. All things are to be brought up for arbitrament and final decision, and we read of those who shall pray the rocks and the hills to fall upon them and hide them from the face— the wrath, the burning countenance— of the Lamb. We must be prepared for these test interviews and final examinations; then it will be seen that all pride, and arrogance, and insolence, and flippancy will have no reply in that day. Be wise ere the sun go down. Kiss the Son, while his anger is kindled but a little. If we have spoken haughtily even against the Son of God it may be forgiven us, if we repent with our hearts. He himself has said so. He never shut the door upon contrition, repentance, or attempts at restitution. Wherein we have been unjust to the Bible, unjust to the Church, unjust to Christ,— wherein we have been excusing ourselves from joining the war on petty grounds of not having been invited, let us repent this very day, call ourselves not only sinners, but fools in the sight of God for such a mean exculpation; and with one heart and mind and soul, let us say or sob, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" PrayerAlmighty God, do thou bless us according to our need, and have mercy upon us according unto the multitude of our sins. Thy loving-kindnesses cannot be reckoned up: behold, they are more than the sands upon the sea-shore, and they exceed the stars in multitude. We live upon them: without them we could not live. We are fed by the mercy of the Lord; we are led by the light of his glory; we stand on the rocks which he has laid as foundations, and our whole life is rooted in his eternity. We look up unto heaven expectantly and gratefully. We love thee for all thou hast given, and we must continue to live upon thy regard for us. Thou hast redeemed us at a great cost: thou hast called us to the cross of the Saviour; thou hast made known unto us thy purpose to save our souls. We are therefore full of gladness, and a new song is in our mouth, and our expectation is from on high. We commit one another to thy tender care, for they are well kept whom thou dost keep. Lead us by still waters and in green pastures, and show us where thou dost make thy flock couch at noon; and may we always be in thine arm, or guided by thine eye, or sustained by thine hand. Let thy wisdom be within us a continual light, and thy grace an abiding hope. Make our way straight before our feet: bring down all high places; make all rough places smooth; lift up the valleys; and thus do thou, preparing a way for us, delight us with the city which is at the end. We bless thee for the hope of heaven— the all-completing world, the place all light, all purity, all love. We have heard of it with the hearing of the ear, and thou art daily satisfying us that it is more than eye hath seen or ear heard or heart conceived— the sublimest of thy wonders, a city worthy of thyself. Meanwhile help us to work more, to dig deeply, to do our present duty with both hands earnestly. May our eyes be in our head, may our hearts be true and loyal to God's doctrine, and in all the way of life may we know that to do is to learn, that to obey is to be instructed, and if we do the will we shall know the doctrine, and the mystery shall not appal us, but draw us on by a marvellous fascination. This life we want to live; this discipline we are prepared by thy Spirit to undergo. The Lord work in us all the good pleasure of his will, and the work of faith with power, and then call us into upper places to behold sights we cannot now see, and enter upon work which at present is too much for our poor strength. Amen. Judges 13 (Annotated) Judges 131. And the children of Israel did evil again [see chap. Judges 3:7, Judges 4:1, Judges 6:1-11, Judges 10:6] in the sight of the Lord; and the Lord delivered them into the hand of the Philistines [who from this point to the reign of David play a most important part. By Philistines we are not to understand Canaanites, but foreign conquerors; the name means camps] forty years [terminating with the battle of Ebenezer, 1 Samuel 7:13]. 2. And there was a certain man of Zorah [place of hornets], of the family of the Danites [the words "family" and "tribe" are often used interchangeably. The tribe of Dan is said to have consisted of the single family of Shuham, Numbers 26:42], whose name was Manoah [rest]; and his wife was barren, and bare not. 3. And the angel of the Lord appeared unto the woman, and said unto her, Behold now, thou art barren, and bearest not: but thou shalt conceive, and bear a son. 4. Now therefore beware, I pray thee, and drink not wine nor strong drink [intoxicating liquor not made from grapes], and eat not any unclean tiling [a law which applied to all Israelites]: 5. For, lo, thou shalt conceive, and bear a son; and no razor shall come on his head [see the law of the Nazarite in Num. vi.]: for the child shall be a Nazarite unto God from the womb; and he shall begin to deliver Israel out of the hand of the Philistines [" begin," but not complete: many men are permitted to begin good works, but they die without their full accomplishment]. 6 Then the woman came and told her husband, saying, A man of God came unto me [angels always appear in human form], and his countenance was like the countenance of an angel of God, very terrible [see Matthew 28:3-4]: but I asked him not whence he was, neither told he me his name: 7. But he said unto me, Behold, thou shalt conceive, 'and bear a son; and now drink no wine nor strong drink, neither eat any unclean thing: for the child shall be a Nazarite [Samuel was also a Nazarite, so was John the Baptist, so was James the Lord's brother] to God from the womb to the day of his death. 8. Then Manoah intreated the Lord, and said, O my Lord, let the man of God which thou didst send come again unto us, and teach us [we should ask for second and completing inspirations] what we shall do unto the child that shall be born. 9. And God hearkened to the voice of Manoah; and the angel of God came again unto the woman as she sat in the field: but Manoah her husband was not with her. 10. And the woman made haste, and ran, and shewed her husband, and said unto him, Behold, the man hath appeared unto me, that came unto me the other day. 11. And Manoah arose, and went after his wife, and came to the man, and said unto him, Art thou the man that spakest unto the woman? And he said, I am. 12. And Manoah said, Now let thy words come to pass. How shall we order the child [what shall be the order of the child and his work?] and how shall we do unto him? [Not a step would they take without divine direction.] 13. And the angel of the Lord said unto Manoah, Of all that I said unto the woman let her beware. 14. She may not eat of any thing that cometh of the vine [see Numbers 6:3-5], neither let her drink wine or strong drink, nor eat any unclean thing: all that I commanded her let her observe. [The wine is described as the vine of wine— the grape-bearing vine; thus distinguishing it from the wild cucumber vine; see 2 Kings 4:39]. 15. And Manoah said unto the angel of the Lord, I pray thee, let us detain thee, until we shall have made ready a kid for thee [literally, before thy face. Compare with this the narrative of Gideon. A kid was a special delicacy; see Genesis 27:9; 1 Samuel 16:20]. 16. And the angel of the Lord said unto Manoah, Though thou detain me, I will not eat of thy bread: and if thou wilt offer a burnt offering, thou must offer it unto the Lord [literally, a burnt offering unto the Lord thou mayest offer it. Compare chap. 1 Samuel 6:20. The worship of angels is nowhere encouraged by angels themselves; they invariably point worshippers to God himself. The angel did not understand Manoah as preparing a simple meal, but as really making preparations for sacrifice. Cautions given by angels should be studied with care—Revelation 19:10, Revelation 22:8-9; and see Acts 10:25-26]. For Manoah knew not that he was an angel of the Lord. 17. And Manoah said unto the angel of the Lord, What is thy name [compare Genesis 32:29; Exodus 3:13; Proverbs 30:4], that when thy sayings come to pass we may do thee honour [the word implying that some gift would be presented to the angel]? 18. And the angel of the Lord said unto him, Why askest thou thus after my name, seeing it is secret? [In Isaiah 9:5, this word is rendered "wonderful ": the word must be taken as an adjective. The only angel who names himself in scripture is Gabriel], 19. So Manoah took a kid with a meat offering, and offered it upon a rock unto the Lord: and the angel of the Lord did wondrously [as in some sense verifying his name]; and Manoah and his wife looked on [all they could do]. 20. For it came to pass, when the flame went up toward heaven from off the altar [that which was a rock at first now became an altar], that the angel of the Lord ascended in the flame of the altar. And Manoah and his wife looked on it, and fell on their faces to the ground. 21. But the angel of the Lord did no more appear to Manoah and to his wife. Then Manoah knew that he was an angel of the Lord. 22. And Manoah said unto his wife, We shall surely die, because we have seen God ["as seeing him who is invisible"; Exodus 33:20; see also Genesis 32:20 and Deuteronomy 5:24]. 23. But his wife said unto him, If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he would not have received a burnt offering and a meat offering at our hands; neither would he have shewed us all these things, nor would, as at this time, have told us such things as these. 24. And the woman bare a son, and called his name Samson [to minister, a name denoting Nazaritic consecration]: and the child grew [see Luke 1:80, and Luke 2:40], and the Lord blessed him ["with a heroic spirit and extraordinary strength of body, far above that which the poets feign of their Hercules with his twelve incredible labours "]. 25. And the Spirit of the Lord began to move him at times [literally, to agitate or thrust him— " to move him hither and thither, as the bells which hung in the skirts of Aaron's garments; these bells have their name from a word which signifies that they were shaken to and fro "] in the camp of Dan between Zorah and Eshtaol. Manoah's Wife Judges 13:23THIS is part of a family scene. It is quoted from a conversation which took place between husband and wife. Let us treat the incident as showing some aspects of family life, some methods of reading divine Providence, and some sources of consolation amid the distractions and mysteries of the present world. Look at it as showing some aspects of family life. Here is the head of the house in gloom. Is he not always more or less in gloom, this same head of the house all the world over? Who ever knew a head of the house that was not more or less low-spirited, worried by a hundred anxieties, tormented by sudden fear? Perhaps naturally so: after all he is the head of the house; and probably the lightning conductor, being higher than any other part of the building, may have experience of thunderstorms and lightning discharges that lower parts of the structure know nothing about. As the head of the house you are in the market-place, you see things in their roughest aspects, you have to bear many a thing that you cannot explain to strangers, and there is an under-current in your consciousness which perhaps your truest friend has never seen, or seeing, appreciated; and therefore when we hear the head of the house complaining in tones that have no music in them, how know we but that the poor man has been undergoing vexations and distresses that he does not feel at liberty to explain? At any rate Manoah took this view of the angel's visit: "We have seen God: no man can see God and live— we shall surely die." Here we have a wife comforting her husband. Like a true woman, she let Manoah have his groan out. There is a beautiful cunning in love. It does not break in upon a sentence at a semicolon. It lets the groan get right out, and then it offers its gentle consolation. If we had heard Manoah alone, we should have said, A terrible thunder-storm has burst upon this house, and God has come down upon it with awful vengeance; and not until we heard his wife's statement of the case should we have any clear idea of the reality of the circumstances. You complain of this word "but" when a statement is made to you and it proceeds fluently and satisfactorily; the speaker says but, and you say, "Aye, there it is again." We carelessly abuse this but; it sometimes, however, introduces all the light and all the music, and is found to be the key, long lost, of the gate which had impeded our progress. "But his wife said unto him"— "but a certain Samaritan came that way." Therefore remember that help sometimes comes after words that seem only to promise some greater distress. Be the complement of each other. The husband does not know all the case. Perhaps the wife would read it a little too hopefully. You must hear both the statements, put them both together, and draw your conclusions from the twofold statement. People are the complement of each other. Woe to that man who thinks he combines all populations and all personalities in himself. He must be a miserable man who thinks that he is the only man in the world. You would get more help from other people if you expected more, if you invited more, if you put yourself in circumstances that would justify the offering of more. There is not a poor creature in the world who cannot fill up the drop that is wanting to complete the fulness of some other creature's joy. You would not be half the man that you are except for your wife, and yet you never say "Thank you" with any degree of heartiness or sincerity. You listen to her suggestions with a half contempt, as if she did not know what she was talking about, and then you go and work out her idea and get the profit of it, and say what a clever man of business you are. That is not honest, it is not just— "Thou shalt not steal." Here we have a husband and wife talking over a difficult case. Is not that a rare thing in these days of rush and tumult and noise, when a man never sees his little children, his very little ones, except in bed? He leaves home so early in the morning, and gets back so late at night, that he never sees his little ones but in slumber. Is it not now a rare thing for a husband and wife to sit down and talk a difficulty over in all its bearings? Have we not known in our own experience many a wife wronged because of the husband failing to show proper confidence? The man has been in difficulties, wherever he has gone he has been pursued by a haunting dread, and he has suffered all this alone; whereas if he had but stated the case with all frankness and loving candour, who knows but that his wife might have said some word which might have been as a key to the lock, and as a solution of the hard and vexatious problem? You will always find it an inexpressible comfort to take your husband or wife, as the case may be, into your confidence, and talk any difficulty right through, keeping back no part of the case. "It soothes poor misery hearkening to her tale." If we lived in more domestic confidence, our houses would be homes, our homes would be churches, and those churches would be in the very vicinage of heaven. Let us now look at the incident as showing some methods of reading divine Providence. There we have the timid and distrustful method. Manoah looks at the case, reads it, spells where he cannot read plainly, and then, looking up from his book, he says to his wife, "There is bad news for you: God is about to destroy us." There are these same timid and doubtful readers of Providence in society today. There are some men who never see the sky in its midday beauty, who never see summer in July at all, who really have never one day's true elevation of soul. I do not blame such people altogether. We are fearfully and wonderfully made. We cannot all read with equal facility, and see with equal distinctness. There are causes or sub-causes, intermediate, secondary influences arising from physical constitution and other circumstances over which we have no control, which trouble our vision even of God himself. Let us, therefore, put in a word wherever we can for those who are not constituted hopefully, who have not been gifted with a sanguine temperament. There are men amongst us whose life is a continual pain. It is possible so to read God's ways among men as to bring upon ourselves great distress. Is a man, therefore, to exclaim, "This is a punishment sent from heaven for some inscrutable reason, and I must endure it as well as I can; I shall never see the sky when not a cloud bedims its dome "? No, you are to struggle against this, you are to believe other people; that is to say, you are to live in other people's lives, to get out of other people the piece that is wanting in your own life. You are not to put ashes upon your head and say, "There is nothing in the universe that I do not see." You are to call little children and to say, "What do you see?" and young men and say, "How does life look from your point of view?" and you are to live in other people. We are to walk by faith and not by sight; we are debtors both to the Jew and to the Greek; and we must get from one another a complete statement of the reality of God's way among the children of men. This is the inductive and hopeful method of reading divine Providence. Some cynical people who have no licence, and therefore ought to be arrested as metaphysical felons, say that women have no logic. And that sentence sounds as if really it ought to be true. It is so pat. It is one of those little weapons that a man can pick up and use as if he had always had it. I think that Manoah's wife was in very deed learned in what we call the inductive method of reasoning, for she stated her case with wonderful simplicity and clearness. "If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he would not have received a burnt offering and a meat offering at our hands; neither would he have shewed us all these things, nor would, as at this time, have told us such things as these." That is logic! That is the inductive method!— the method, namely, of putting things together and drawing a conclusion from the aggregate. Thank God if you have a wife who can talk like that. Why, if they had both been gloomy parties, what a house it would have been! They need never have taken the shutters down, and summer might have ignored their existence. But Manoah's wife was of a hopeful turn of mind. She had the eye which sees flecks of blue in the darkest skies. She had the ear which hears the softest goings of the Eternal. She was an interpreter of the divine thought. Oh, to have such an interpreter in every house, to have such an interpreter in every pulpit in England, to have such a companion on the highway of venture and enterprise! This is the eye that sees farther than the dull eye of criticism can ever see, that sees God's heart, that reads meanings that seem to be written afar. Have we this method of reading divine Providence? I call it the appreciative and thankful method. Why, some of us can take up our loaf and say, "Only this!" and say it in a tone that means practical blasphemy; others can take up a crust and say, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow! This is God's gift. He cannot mean me to die, or he would not have put this into my hand." A litany in one sentence, worthy to find its place amid the hallelujahs and blessings of the better world. Who was it that said, "When I look at those who are higher than I am, I am tempted towards discontent, but when I go out amongst the poor and compare their condition with my own, my heart overflows with loving thankfulness"? How dare we complain, the worst, the poorest among us! Taking the average— and a low average— what man, what woman is there that ought not to join in heartfelt praise to Almighty God for mercies innumerable as the moments, delicate as the light, present as the living air round about one's poor life! Manoah droops, pines, dies; his wife goes out, gathers the flowers in the Lord's garden, brings them back to him and says, "Manoah, be a man: would God have given us these things if he meant to kill us?" And poor Manoah lifts up his drooping face to the light. Put together your mercies, look at them as a whole and say, Can this mean death, or does it mean life? and I know what the glad answer will be. There are some sources of consolation amid the distractions and mysteries of the present world. Every life has some blessings. I charge it upon you when the year closes to reckon up your blessings. Men eagerly count up their misfortunes and trials, but how few remember their mercies! One man says, I have no wealth. No, but look what a pair of shoulders you have! Another man says, I have but feeble health. True, but look what investments you have! Another voice says, I am disposed to be fearful and dispirited. But look what a wife you have! Every life has some blessing, and we must find what that blessing or those blessings are. We must put them together, and reason from the goodness towards the glory of God. Amid these blessings religious privileges are sure signs of the divine favour. We have religious privileges: we can go into the sanctuary: we can take counsel together; we can kneel side by side in prayer; we can go to the very best sources for religious instruction and religious comfort. Does God mean to kill when he has given us such proofs of favour as these? Does he mean to kill us when he has sent the minister of the covenant to tell us glad tidings of great joy? Let us find in religious blessings proof that God means no evil to us. We will persist in looking at a distress till it seems to be the only thing in our life. We need to put two and two together. Do not be losing yourselves in the midst of details that have apparently no connection. Gather up your life until it becomes shaped into meaning, and then when you have seen things in their proper relationships pronounce calmly upon the ways of God towards you. Let us put away religious melancholy. Many people are saying, "I fear I have committed the unpardonable sin; I seem to have offended God for ever, and put him far away from me, so that I can never see his face again." Wouldst thou have any anxiety about the thing if he were clean gone for ever, and had drawn the skirts of his garments after him so as to leave thee but the blackness of darkness? By the very fact of thy concern, understand that God has not purposed to kill thee. Cry mightily for him; say, "Oh that I knew where I might find him!" "Why standest thou afar off, O God?" And if thou criest so, he will surely come again, saying, "For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee." Let us learn from this family scene that great joys often succeed great fears. Manoah said, The Lord intends to kill us; his wife said, Not so, or he would not have received a burnt offering at our hands. And behold Samson was born, a judge of Israel, an avenger of mighty wrongs. Is it ever so dark as just before the dawn? Are you not witnesses that a great darkness always precedes a great light— that some peculiar misery comes to prepare the way for some unusual joy? If we could only lay hold of life in this way, and read it, not with unreasonable expectation of deliverance and joy, but with hopefulness, we should never become old, desiccated, or tuneless— to the last we should wear like old silver, to the very last there would be in us a light above the brightness of the sun. Let us read the goodness of God in others. Many a time we have been recovered from practical atheism by reading other people's experience. When things seem to have been going wrong with us, we have looked over into a neighbour's garden and seen his flowers, and our hearts have been cheered by the vision. Oh, woman, talk of your mission! Here is your mission described and exemplified in the case of the wife of Manoah. What do you want with your School Board and platform experiences, and those mysterious abstractions which you call your rights? Here is your field of operation. Cheer those who are dispirited; read the word of God in its spirit to those who can only read its cold meagre letter, and the strongest of us will bless you for your gentle ministry. Did not Paul write to the Church at Rome saying, "Greet Priscilla and Aquila," putting the wife's name first, and that in no mere spirit of courtesy, but probably in recognition of her supreme influence in spiritual direction and consolation? Who was it in the days of Scottish persecution? Was it not Helen Stirk— a braver Helen than the fiend Macgregor— who said to her husband as they were both carried forth to be executed, "Husband, rejoice, for we have lived together many joyful days; but this day wherein we die together ought to be most joyful to us both, because we must have joy for ever; therefore I will not bid you good-night, for we shall suddenly meet within the kingdom of heaven "? Who was it when Whitefield was mobbed and threatened, and when even he was about to give way,— who was it but his wife who took hold of his robe and said, "George, play the man for your God"? Oh, woman, talk of your rights, and your sphere, and your having nothing to do! We should die without you. The man is fit for murders, stratagems, and spoils who is not a worshipper of woman— a worshipper of his mother, of his sister, of his wife, of the ideal woman. Have a sphere of labour at home, go into sick-chambers and speak as only a woman can speak. Counsel your sons as if you were not dictating to them. Read Providence to your husband in an incidental manner, as if you were not reproaching him for his dulness, but simply hinting that you had seen unexpected light. Women have always said the finest things that have ever been said in the Bible. She was a woman that— we speak it with reverence— outwitted the Lord himself. He said "No" to her request. And he was not accustomed to say that word; it fell awkwardly from those dear lips. "I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel. It is not meet to take the children's bread and cast it unto dogs." But the woman outwitted him. Scribes and Pharisees would have been silenced, but the woman said: "Truth, Lord; yet the dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." Christ yielded himself a willing prisoner of love. Trust the heart of love to outstrip the brain of genius! Selected Note Samson was the son of Manoah, of the tribe of Dan, and born a.m. 2848, of a mother whose name is nowhere given in the Scriptures. His destination to great achievements began to evince itself at a very early age by the illapses of superhuman strength which came from time to time upon him. Falling in love with a woman of Sorek, named Delilah, he became so infatuated by his passion, that nothing but his bodily strength could equal his mental weakness. Betrayed by her, and forsaken of Heaven, the Philistines having deprived him of sight, at first immured him in a prison, and made him grind at the mill like a slave. As this was an employment which in the East usually devolves on women, to assign it to such a man as Samson was virtually to reduce him to the lowest state of degradation and shame. In process of time, while remaining in this confinement, his hair recovered its growth, and with it such a profound repentance seems to have wrought in his heart as virtually reinvested him with the character and the powers he had so culpably lost. Of this fact his enemies were not aware. They kept him like a wild beast for mockery and insult. On the occasion of a feast in honour of their god Dagon, Samson was ordered to be brought out to be made a laughing-stock to his enemies. He secretly determined to use his recovered strength to tremendous effect, and persuaded a boy to conduct him to the two pillars upon which the roof of the building rested. Here, after pausing for a short time, while he prefers a brief prayer to Heaven, he grasps the massy pillars, and bowing with resistless force, the whole building rocks and totters, and the roof, encumbered with the weight of the spectators, rushes down, and the whole assembly, including Samson himself, are crushed to pieces in the ruin. Thus terminated the career of one of the most remarkable personages of all history, whether sacred or profane. The enrolment of his name by an apostolic pen (Hebrews 11:32) in the list of the ancient worthies "who had by faith obtained an excellent repute" warrants us undoubtedly in a favourable estimate of his character on the whole, while at the same time the fertility of the inspired narrative has perpetuated the record of infirmities which must for ever mar the lustre of his noble deeds. PrayerAlmighty God, thou openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every living thing. Thou knowest when to open thine hand and when to close it, and it is ours but to watch the opening and the shutting. Thou art King: we are the subjects of thy crown. The Lord reigneth. That is the highest note in our song, the gladdest tone of our rhapsody. We abide under the shadow of the Almighty, and take nothing into our own hands, for they are not only unclean, but weak because unclean. We come to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Unknown One, and the for-ever Unknowable, yet still always coming to our heart's best feeling, a new light, a new warmth, a new gladness. We know thee by our love. Our hearts grope for thee, assured that thou art hidden in the darkness, and concealed in the light, and everywhere present to bless and heal and redeem. Now we know thee in Christ Jesus— the heart of God, the will of God, the whole meaning of eternity in relation to man. This is wonderful in our eyes. Sometimes we touch him, so near we are, and so reverently familiar; yet we feel that it is like touching a cloud hiding mysteries; and sometimes we stand afar off, because we do not know his language, we cannot follow his words: we know them as terms, but we cannot see all the meaning with which he charges them. Nevertheless, he is with us today, to-morrow, and on the third day; then he rises again, and we see him no more after the flesh: but we know that he lives; he left his promise with us: we claim it, we rejoice in it, our heaven begins in its music, and our eternity of bliss is assured by a living faith in the living Christ. Thou hast done all things well. Sometimes we have thought otherwise, and at those times of ignorance thou hast graciously turned away thine eyes from us, that thou mightest not see our folly; but we have come to repent; we have seen the larger work, the fuller meaning, somewhat of the ultimate intention— then our mouth has been filled with singing, and our heart with joy, and our eyes with tears of. gladness. Henceforth we will trouble thee no more. Be the rain heavy and the storm bitter, or the sky burning with gracious summer, it shall not be ours to murmur at the reigning, living, loving Father. Thou doest all things as thou wilt; the time is kept in the upper sanctuary, and the law is with the Lord and not with man. This is the gift of Christ— this glowing, triumphant faith; this is the miracle of the cross; this is the meaning of the resurrection as to our own spiritual victory. Now we glory in tribulations also. They were the last to come into the song; they stood back, far off, frowning and hesitant, unwilling to be made use of for Christian sacrifice; but now by faith we have brought them in one by one: and we glory in tribulations also— yea, we are exceedingly filled with gladness, and we forget our sorrow as the sea might forget in its fulness the stone which lies in its depths. We bless thee for all these high emotions, these noble impulses, these upward outgoings of the soul: they do us good; they cleanse the heart; they give elevation to the whole scale of life— they are the very miracles of heaven. We put our whole being into thine hand, saying, Do as thou wilt: thy will, not mine, be done; what thou choosest is best, what thou doest is right. This we have learned in Jesus Christ; this is the lesson we have received in our crucifixion with the Son of God. Thou dost administer thy discipline to us in various ways. Sometimes thou dost bring us down from great heights; sometimes thou dost chasten us with heavy sorrows, so that men pity us, so that human creatures who are strangers cannot look on without sympathetic tears. Yet the sufferer is the most rejoicing, because where pain abounds grace doth much more abound; where the background is blackest every touch of thy light shines with a new and dazzling meaning. Thou hast brought us together again after separation— some for one week, some for a few days, some for a longer period. For all renewal of fellowship, and trust, and love, we bless thee. We need all these intermediate helps, that we may be continued in our faith and patience in reference to the eternal communion. Some are in great sorrow; some cannot see for tears; many have no helpers, and a few have none to speak to: a few words of uttered misery would be a help in the wilderness, but there is nothing present but the great glaring light or the heedless wind. Say to such that thou art near, and that everything may be told to thee, even things that may not be told to sweetest mother, or most trusting and loving friend. Help us during the few days that remain. How they fly! Presently they will all be gone, and we, who were going to enjoy ourselves some day, will find that our proposals are lost in the wind, and that the opportunity is gone. Help us, then, to begin now, to enter into the joy of the Lord now, to know that now is the accepted time and now the day of salvation. Amen. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"How shall we order the child, and how shall we do unto him?"—Judges 13:12. The supreme question which parents should ask.— A question which God permits to be pat to himself.— God alone can know the true way of training a human life.— It is in vain to ask God's guidance after the foundations of the life have been laid and its policy has been determined upon. The child is to be trained up from its earliest moment.— There is a sense in which there is no time of unconsciousness to the child: we are making impressions even when those impressions are not accompanied by acts of intelligence.— Surely blessed is that child who has never seen anything in father or mother that is not true, beautiful, and good.— It would seem the easiest thing in the world to train a child; in reality it is the most difficult.— Every child has its own peculiar psychology.— Every child has its own peculiar motive, impulse, vision of things, and purpose.— The very wisdom of God is required in the right training of children.— But the child cannot be trained aright until the parent has a correct conception of life itself.— If life is a question of this world, of immediate health, wealth, and enjoyment, then the policy of child-training is easy and simple enough; but if life here is but the beginning of real life, if the present state of existence is but a gate opening upon true destinies and illimitable spheres of action, then light from above is needed, and guidance and comfort from the Father of all men.— Let parents be encouraged to consult God about child-training.— Let every child be the subject of special prayer.— Let the parent be able to say, should occasion arise, to each child, "I have prayed for thee," as Christ said to Simon Peter. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"Why askest thou thus after my name, seeing it is secret?"—Judges 13:18. Men are continually driven back from secret altars, and forbidden to indulge their curiosity in sacred places.— We may receive anonymous blessings.— It is difficult to distinguish sometimes between curiosity and reverent inquiry.— Sometimes we are more interested in the secret things than in the things revealed. When we are conscious of such interest we may know that we are animated by curiosity, and not by the spirit of reverential inquiry.— In coming to the Bible we must come for ripe fruit, for practical blessings ready to be handled, for the things which we can immediately understand and apply; and we must not be deterred from our use and enjoyment of these because a secret seems to be hidden within them all, and a ghostly presence seems to be moving in shadow across the pages as we peruse them.— There is a point at which the knowable ends: at that point we may either become fools or wise men— fools because we say there is nothing worth knowing, or wise men by saying the temporal must be conducted in the light of the eternal, the finite must be ennobled by a consciousness of the infinite, the human must be lifted up to its noblest significance by the assured presence and judgment of the divine. Samson— Light and Shadow Judges 14-16IT would be unjust to consider this as a finished picture of the man of strength. In all that we have said we have endeavoured to establish by good reasoning and clear reference. But it would be unjust to pronounce upon any life after merely looking at a few incidental points in its course. That is a danger to which all criticism is exposed. We are prone to look upon vivid incidents, and to omit all the great breadths and spaces of the daily life, and to found our judgment of one another upon peculiarities, eccentricities, and very vivid displays of strength, or very pitiful exhibitions of weakness. This is wrong; this is unjust. Samson has indeed done many things that have startled us. We have been inclined to say now and again in the course of our study, This is the man— the whole man; in this point, or in that, we have the key of his character. Now the reality is that Samson is a greater man than the mere outline of the romantic part of his history would suggest. There was another man than that which we have just seen pass before us— the great giant, the man who played with things that were burdens to other men, the man who was infantile in mental weakness on many occasions; there is another man within that outer man, and until we understand somewhat of that interior personality we cannot grasp the whole character of Samson. We must judge men by the mass of their character. Who would not resent the idea of being tested by the incidents of a few months, rather than being judged by the level and the general tone and the average of a lifetime? Man does not reveal himself in little points, except incidentally and illustratively: hence we must live with the man, and so far as history will allow us to do so we must become identified with him: when we get to understand his motives we shall begin to comprehend his conduct, and when we put together the night and the day, the summer and the winter, the fair youth and the white old age, then we may be in some degree prepared to say what the man in reality was. When this rule of judgment obtains we shall get rid of all pettish ness of criticism, all vain remark upon one another: before pronouncing the final judgment, and especially a harsh verdict, we shall say: We do not know enough about him; we have only seen a few points in the man; he seems to be a greater and fuller man than he disclosed himself to be on the occasions when we saw him; had we seen more of him, and known more of him, we should have come probably to a more generous conclusion. That is the rule of Christian charity, and whoso violates it is no friend of Christ. He may show a certain kind of critical ability, and the very malice of hell in the power of sneering, but he knows nothing about the agony and the love of the Cross. Is the life of Samson, then, comprehended within these few incidents which have just passed before us? The incidents upon which we have remarked might all have occurred within a few months. What was the exact position of Samson in Israel? He judged Israel twenty years. How often is that fact over" looked! we speak of the great strong man, the elephantine child, the huge monstrosity, but who thinks of twenty years' service— the consideration of all the necessities of the people, the frown which made the enemy afraid, the smile which encouraged struggling virtue, the recognition which came very near to being an inspiration? Who knows what headache and heartache the man had in prosecuting and completing the judgeship? Who can be twenty full years at any one service without amassing in that time features, actions, exhibitions of strength and weakness, sagacity, folly,— all of which ought to be taken into account before pronouncing final judgment? Thus may it be with us, or it will go hard with us in the day of partial and prejudiced criticism. Who will condemn you for one little month in your life? Then you were in very deed a fool; you know it; you own it: you broke through the sacred law; you did things you dare not name; you reeled and stumbled and fell, but were up again in a moment. Shall he be judge of your life who saw the reeling and the falling? or shall he be judge who knows that for ten years, twenty, or more, you walked right steadily, a brave soul, charged with generous thoughts, and often doing good with both hands? So it must be with all men. But we are prone to break that rule. How small we are, and unjust, herein; we will turn off a friend who has served us twenty years because of one petulant word which he spoke! Who has the justice, not to say generosity, to take in a whole lifetime, and let little incidents or great incidents fall into their proper perspective? Until we do this we cannot ply the craft of criticism: we are ill judges, and we shall do one another grievous injury. Some physical constitutions are to be pitied. Samson's was particularly such a constitution. He seemed to be all body. He appeared to have run altogether into bone and muscle. He was obviously only a giant. How seldom we see more than one aspect of a man! call up any great name in Biblical history, and you will find how often one little, or great, characteristic is supposed to sum up and express the man. We call up the name of Moses, and think of nothing but his meekness: whereas, there was no man in all the ancient gallery of portraits that could burn with a fiercer anger; he brake stones upon stones, and shattered the very tablets written by the finger of God. We say, Characterise Jeremiah, and instantly we think of his tears, and call him the weeping prophet: whereas who concealed an eloquence equal to his?— a marvellous, many-coloured eloquence, now so strong, and now so pathetic: now all lightning, and now all tears. We must beware of the sophism that a life can be summed up in one little characteristic. Herein God will be Judge. Some men cannot be radiant. They may think they are, but they are only making sport for the Philistines when they are trying the trick of cheerfulness which they cannot learn. Other men cannot be wise. If they have conceived some plan of so-called wisdom, and submit it to you, and take it back again, they set it upside down, and forget exactly where it began and where it ended. They are to be pitied. Weakness is written right across the main line of the face; weakness characterises every tone of the voice. They are not to be judged harshly. Blessed be God, the judgment is with himself, and what if the first be last, and the last be first? Is there hope of renewal for overthrown men? One would hope so:— "Howbeit the hair of his head began to grow again after he was shaven"— (Judges 16:22). Is this real renewal or only apparent? It was not the hair that was in fault, but the soul. We have seen that the strength lay not in the hair, but in the vow which that hair represented and confirmed. If the matter had been one purely of person adornment, the hair might have grown again on the strong and noble head, and covered it as luxuriantly as before; but it was the soul that was shorn of its honour; it was the spirit that parted with its oath. How difficult to renew a broken character! Thank God, it is not impossible. It cannot be done mechanically,— that is to say from the outside, by skilful manipulation, by obedience to tabulated rules and orders,— "Ye must be born again:" it is not enough to renew the profession, to rehabilitate the reputation, to seem to be just as you were before,— "Ye must be born again." Samson's hair comes, the locks are as raven-like as ever, but has the soul been renewed; has the strong man cried mightily unto God for the restoration of his character? That is the vital point, and to trifle with it, pass over it hurriedly, is to lose the wisdom and the music of the occasion. Looking at men outwardly, we say, They seem to be as before; all the outer semblances are excellent, but who are we that we should judge what has taken place within? Outwardly the circumstances may be as before, but the man himself should take care as to what has happened within his soul. He should hold himself in severe and close monologue upon this matter, saying, These people form a good opinion of me; they think now I am a sober, upright, reliable man; I am regular in my church attendances, I keep up with the foremost in the public race, and the general impression seems to be that I have recovered myself,— but have I done so? I will not look at the outer man, but at the heart. Is that steadfast toward God— constant in holy love, burning with pure zeal for righteousness and truth? Man must not judge me in these matters— I must therefore judge myself the more austerely and exhaustively. Blessed are we if we can apply such criticism to ourselves; and blessed if outward appearances dimly typify a spiritual life, an unseen and undying probity of mind. Samson died a curious death. He prayed in his blindness that he might yet show himself a strong man. The Philistines would have sport: Samson would that the occasion of sport might be turned into an occasion of what appeared to him to be just vengeance. Said he: Let me touch the pillars of the house; lay my poor hands on the pillars of this unholy place. And the giant's hands were lifted and put upon the pillars, and Samson cried mightily towards the heavens and shook the pillars, and the house fell, and he himself died with innumerable others. It was a poor way out of the world. But judge nothing by the death scene. In many instances the death scene amounts to nothing. Many a man has gone to heaven straight from the act of suicide. Many a man has died into heaven about whom we are prudently silent, because of some little or great incident which has disturbed our judgment of his character. It is not enough to leave the last transaction to be completed in a few moments of words without sacrifice, of profession without possible realisation. And some may have died and gone to heaven about whom we have our secret fears. Let us entertain no such apprehensions about any man whose twenty years of life lies open for public judgment. Nothing was said at the last; nay, more, the poor man got wrong within the last year of his life: he slipped, he fell, he was laid up a long time; what happened then between him and his Lord we cannot tell; but we have before us an instance or two of such secret and unreported interviews. The man who saw his Lord and plunged into the water, and came to him, had a talk with Christ all alone, and after that he became the most fervent of the apostles. The man is not to be judged by what he did in the last week of his life. It is the life that God will judge— the tone, the purpose, the main idea of the life. What is life indeed but a main idea— a grand central thought and aspiration? We shall delude ourselves and do injustice to others by thinking of collateral circumstances, things on the surface, things that come and go. Many a man has stolen who is no thief. Many a man has been overcome by strong drink who is no drunkard. Many a man has been guilty of innumerable weaknesses who is a strong man in the soul and heart of him. That these generous constructions may be perverted is perfectly possible; but I would rather that wicked men should pervert them than that the men who need such encouragement should go away in despair. We cannot tell what the dogs will do, but the children must nevertheless be fed. If any man should leave this study of Samson saying that licence has been given to do this or that which is wrong, he but aggravates his profanity by a final falsehood. On the other hand, many a man must be cheered, or he will be overwhelmed in despair, and we shall never hear of him any more. What is the central purpose of your life? what is the main idea? Answer that in the right way, and God will be merciful to you. We have still to notice the most important point of all, which, in the mere matter of literal sequence, ought to have come earlier. Samson said he would go out and shake himself as at other times— "and he wist not that the Lord was departed from him "(Judges 16:20). All the outer man was there, but it was a temple without a God. The giant was as grand to look at as ever, but his soul was as a banqueting-hall deserted. And Samson knew it not! that is the painful point— the unknown losses of life, the unconscious losses of life: power gone, and the man not aware of it,— is there any irony so humbling, so awful to contemplate? We may be walking skeletons: we may be men without manliness; we may be houses untenanted: yet the eyes are where they always were, and just as bright, the voice is as vibrant as in olden time; and yet the divinity is dead. And for a man not to know it! We have had experience of this in other than merely religious directions. The writer that used to charm thinks he writes as well as ever, and only the readers are conscious that the genius is extinct: the right hand has forgotten its cunning; the writer does not know it; having filled his page, he says, That is as bright as ever: I never wrote with greater facility: in my old age I have become young again;— he wist not that the spirit of genius had departed from him. So with the preacher. He supposes he preaches as energetically and as happily and usefully as ever; he says he longs for his work more than he ever did; and only the hearers are conscious that the man has been outworn by all-claiming, all-dominating time. The statesman, too, has lost his wizardry: he cannot see afar off; yet he supposes himself to be as great as in his most lustrous prime. All these are common incidents, and are referred to simply to show that they point towards the most disastrous effect of all— that a man may have lost the Spirit of God, and not be aware of his loss. Others look on, and pity him. The prayer has lost its pleading tone; the tears which stream from his eyes are but common water; the upward look sees nothing but cloud; the universe has become a great blank space: the stars glitter, but say nothing; the summer comes, but creates no garden in his soul; and the man does not know it. Who dare tell him? This points towards a possible ghastly condition of affairs. The Church is as large as ever, but Ichabod is written upon its door. The old words are all said, one by one with formal pomp and accuracy, but they are only words— no longer bushes that burn and are not consumed. Again and again remember that the point is that the man did not know it. Had he known it, he would have been a better man; had he really felt that the Lord had gone out from him, he might have begun to cry at last like a child, if he could not pray like a priest How is it with us? Put the question right into the very centre of the soul. We may have more words, more dogmas, more points of controversy, more little orthodox idols; but what are we in the heart, the spirit, the purpose of the mind? Seeing that this great danger is before us, there is one sweet prayer which every day should carry to heaven from our pleading soul. A child can pray it; an angel cannot add to it. That deep, high, grand, all-inclusive prayer is— "Take not thy Holy Spirit from me,"— take health, take friends, take happiness, take all the world values as good and necessary, but take not thy Holy Spirit from me! "Holy Spirit, dwell with me." PrayerAlmighty God, our hope is in thy Son; other hope in very deed we have none. We have hewn out unto ourselves cisterns, but we have found them to be cisterns that could hold no water. So by this experience, so sad and deep, we have come to know that there is no help for man but in the living God, the Saviour of all, who will have all men to be saved. We lay down our arms of rebellion, we renounce our various inventions, and we now come to thee, empty-handed, full of sin in the heart, conscious of great and aggravated wickedness, and casting ourselves upon the work of the Lord Jesus Christ, we say each for himself, God be merciful to me a sinner! We know thine answer; it is a reply of love: where sin abounds, grace shall much more abound; wherein we have grieved thee, we shall be mightily brought back again to thy side, to take part in thy praise, and to be active in thy service. May the time that is past more than suffice; may our inquiry be about the few days that remain; with earnestness, simplicity, fidelity, may we gird ourselves to the work that lies before us, and with all-burning zeal, most constant love, may we do thy will gladly, hoping only for a reward in thine own heaven. Help us in all our life. Its necessities are as numerous as its moments. Our life is one crying want. Let our life be turned into a sacred prayer, by being lifted upwards towards the all-hospitable heavens, and no longer left to grope in the earth for that which can never be found there. As for our burdens, we shall forget them if thou dost increase our strength; our sins shall be cast behind thee, our duty shall be our delight, and our whole life a glowing and acceptable sacrifice. Guide men who are in perplexity; soothe the hearts that are overborne by daily distress; save from despair those who think they have tried every gate and beaten upon every door without success or reply: save such from the agony and blackness of despair; at the very last do thou appear, a shining light, a delivering day, wherein men can see what lies about them, and address themselves to their tasks with the help of the sun. Be round about us in business; save us amid a thousand temptations; direct us along a road that is sown with traps, and gins, and snares; take hold of our hand every step of the journey, and in thine own good time bring us to rest, to death— to life. Amen. Samson— Light and Shadow Judges 14-16IT would be unjust to consider this as a finished picture of the man of strength. In all that we have said we have endeavoured to establish by good reasoning and clear reference. But it would be unjust to pronounce upon any life after merely looking at a few incidental points in its course. That is a danger to which all criticism is exposed. We are prone to look upon vivid incidents, and to omit all the great breadths and spaces of the daily life, and to found our judgment of one another upon peculiarities, eccentricities, and very vivid displays of strength, or very pitiful exhibitions of weakness. This is wrong; this is unjust. Samson has indeed done many things that have startled us. We have been inclined to say now and again in the course of our study, This is the man— the whole man; in this point, or in that, we have the key of his character. Now the reality is that Samson is a greater man than the mere outline of the romantic part of his history would suggest. There was another man than that which we have just seen pass before us— the great giant, the man who played with things that were burdens to other men, the man who was infantile in mental weakness on many occasions; there is another man within that outer man, and until we understand somewhat of that interior personality we cannot grasp the whole character of Samson. We must judge men by the mass of their character. Who would not resent the idea of being tested by the incidents of a few months, rather than being judged by the level and the general tone and the average of a lifetime? Man does not reveal himself in little points, except incidentally and illustratively: hence we must live with the man, and so far as history will allow us to do so we must become identified with him: when we get to understand his motives we shall begin to comprehend his conduct, and when we put together the night and the day, the summer and the winter, the fair youth and the white old age, then we may be in some degree prepared to say what the man in reality was. When this rule of judgment obtains we shall get rid of all pettish ness of criticism, all vain remark upon one another: before pronouncing the final judgment, and especially a harsh verdict, we shall say: We do not know enough about him; we have only seen a few points in the man; he seems to be a greater and fuller man than he disclosed himself to be on the occasions when we saw him; had we seen more of him, and known more of him, we should have come probably to a more generous conclusion. That is the rule of Christian charity, and whoso violates it is no friend of Christ. He may show a certain kind of critical ability, and the very malice of hell in the power of sneering, but he knows nothing about the agony and the love of the Cross. Is the life of Samson, then, comprehended within these few incidents which have just passed before us? The incidents upon which we have remarked might all have occurred within a few months. What was the exact position of Samson in Israel? He judged Israel twenty years. How often is that fact over" looked! we speak of the great strong man, the elephantine child, the huge monstrosity, but who thinks of twenty years' service— the consideration of all the necessities of the people, the frown which made the enemy afraid, the smile which encouraged struggling virtue, the recognition which came very near to being an inspiration? Who knows what headache and heartache the man had in prosecuting and completing the judgeship? Who can be twenty full years at any one service without amassing in that time features, actions, exhibitions of strength and weakness, sagacity, folly,— all of which ought to be taken into account before pronouncing final judgment? Thus may it be with us, or it will go hard with us in the day of partial and prejudiced criticism. Who will condemn you for one little month in your life? Then you were in very deed a fool; you know it; you own it: you broke through the sacred law; you did things you dare not name; you reeled and stumbled and fell, but were up again in a moment. Shall he be judge of your life who saw the reeling and the falling? or shall he be judge who knows that for ten years, twenty, or more, you walked right steadily, a brave soul, charged with generous thoughts, and often doing good with both hands? So it must be with all men. But we are prone to break that rule. How small we are, and unjust, herein; we will turn off a friend who has served us twenty years because of one petulant word which he spoke! Who has the justice, not to say generosity, to take in a whole lifetime, and let little incidents or great incidents fall into their proper perspective? Until we do this we cannot ply the craft of criticism: we are ill judges, and we shall do one another grievous injury. Some physical constitutions are to be pitied. Samson's was particularly such a constitution. He seemed to be all body. He appeared to have run altogether into bone and muscle. He was obviously only a giant. How seldom we see more than one aspect of a man! call up any great name in Biblical history, and you will find how often one little, or great, characteristic is supposed to sum up and express the man. We call up the name of Moses, and think of nothing but his meekness: whereas, there was no man in all the ancient gallery of portraits that could burn with a fiercer anger; he brake stones upon stones, and shattered the very tablets written by the finger of God. We say, Characterise Jeremiah, and instantly we think of his tears, and call him the weeping prophet: whereas who concealed an eloquence equal to his?— a marvellous, many-coloured eloquence, now so strong, and now so pathetic: now all lightning, and now all tears. We must beware of the sophism that a life can be summed up in one little characteristic. Herein God will be Judge. Some men cannot be radiant. They may think they are, but they are only making sport for the Philistines when they are trying the trick of cheerfulness which they cannot learn. Other men cannot be wise. If they have conceived some plan of so-called wisdom, and submit it to you, and take it back again, they set it upside down, and forget exactly where it began and where it ended. They are to be pitied. Weakness is written right across the main line of the face; weakness characterises every tone of the voice. They are not to be judged harshly. Blessed be God, the judgment is with himself, and what if the first be last, and the last be first? Is there hope of renewal for overthrown men? One would hope so:— "Howbeit the hair of his head began to grow again after he was shaven"— (Judges 16:22). Is this real renewal or only apparent? It was not the hair that was in fault, but the soul. We have seen that the strength lay not in the hair, but in the vow which that hair represented and confirmed. If the matter had been one purely of person adornment, the hair might have grown again on the strong and noble head, and covered it as luxuriantly as before; but it was the soul that was shorn of its honour; it was the spirit that parted with its oath. How difficult to renew a broken character! Thank God, it is not impossible. It cannot be done mechanically,— that is to say from the outside, by skilful manipulation, by obedience to tabulated rules and orders,— "Ye must be born again:" it is not enough to renew the profession, to rehabilitate the reputation, to seem to be just as you were before,— "Ye must be born again." Samson's hair comes, the locks are as raven-like as ever, but has the soul been renewed; has the strong man cried mightily unto God for the restoration of his character? That is the vital point, and to trifle with it, pass over it hurriedly, is to lose the wisdom and the music of the occasion. Looking at men outwardly, we say, They seem to be as before; all the outer semblances are excellent, but who are we that we should judge what has taken place within? Outwardly the circumstances may be as before, but the man himself should take care as to what has happened within his soul. He should hold himself in severe and close monologue upon this matter, saying, These people form a good opinion of me; they think now I am a sober, upright, reliable man; I am regular in my church attendances, I keep up with the foremost in the public race, and the general impression seems to be that I have recovered myself,— but have I done so? I will not look at the outer man, but at the heart. Is that steadfast toward God— constant in holy love, burning with pure zeal for righteousness and truth? Man must not judge me in these matters— I must therefore judge myself the more austerely and exhaustively. Blessed are we if we can apply such criticism to ourselves; and blessed if outward appearances dimly typify a spiritual life, an unseen and undying probity of mind. Samson died a curious death. He prayed in his blindness that he might yet show himself a strong man. The Philistines would have sport: Samson would that the occasion of sport might be turned into an occasion of what appeared to him to be just vengeance. Said he: Let me touch the pillars of the house; lay my poor hands on the pillars of this unholy place. And the giant's hands were lifted and put upon the pillars, and Samson cried mightily towards the heavens and shook the pillars, and the house fell, and he himself died with innumerable others. It was a poor way out of the world. But judge nothing by the death scene. In many instances the death scene amounts to nothing. Many a man has gone to heaven straight from the act of suicide. Many a man has died into heaven about whom we are prudently silent, because of some little or great incident which has disturbed our judgment of his character. It is not enough to leave the last transaction to be completed in a few moments of words without sacrifice, of profession without possible realisation. And some may have died and gone to heaven about whom we have our secret fears. Let us entertain no such apprehensions about any man whose twenty years of life lies open for public judgment. Nothing was said at the last; nay, more, the poor man got wrong within the last year of his life: he slipped, he fell, he was laid up a long time; what happened then between him and his Lord we cannot tell; but we have before us an instance or two of such secret and unreported interviews. The man who saw his Lord and plunged into the water, and came to him, had a talk with Christ all alone, and after that he became the most fervent of the apostles. The man is not to be judged by what he did in the last week of his life. It is the life that God will judge— the tone, the purpose, the main idea of the life. What is life indeed but a main idea— a grand central thought and aspiration? We shall delude ourselves and do injustice to others by thinking of collateral circumstances, things on the surface, things that come and go. Many a man has stolen who is no thief. Many a man has been overcome by strong drink who is no drunkard. Many a man has been guilty of innumerable weaknesses who is a strong man in the soul and heart of him. That these generous constructions may be perverted is perfectly possible; but I would rather that wicked men should pervert them than that the men who need such encouragement should go away in despair. We cannot tell what the dogs will do, but the children must nevertheless be fed. If any man should leave this study of Samson saying that licence has been given to do this or that which is wrong, he but aggravates his profanity by a final falsehood. On the other hand, many a man must be cheered, or he will be overwhelmed in despair, and we shall never hear of him any more. What is the central purpose of your life? what is the main idea? Answer that in the right way, and God will be merciful to you. We have still to notice the most important point of all, which, in the mere matter of literal sequence, ought to have come earlier. Samson said he would go out and shake himself as at other times— "and he wist not that the Lord was departed from him "(Judges 16:20). All the outer man was there, but it was a temple without a God. The giant was as grand to look at as ever, but his soul was as a banqueting-hall deserted. And Samson knew it not! that is the painful point— the unknown losses of life, the unconscious losses of life: power gone, and the man not aware of it,— is there any irony so humbling, so awful to contemplate? We may be walking skeletons: we may be men without manliness; we may be houses untenanted: yet the eyes are where they always were, and just as bright, the voice is as vibrant as in olden time; and yet the divinity is dead. And for a man not to know it! We have had experience of this in other than merely religious directions. The writer that used to charm thinks he writes as well as ever, and only the readers are conscious that the genius is extinct: the right hand has forgotten its cunning; the writer does not know it; having filled his page, he says, That is as bright as ever: I never wrote with greater facility: in my old age I have become young again;— he wist not that the spirit of genius had departed from him. So with the preacher. He supposes he preaches as energetically and as happily and usefully as ever; he says he longs for his work more than he ever did; and only the hearers are conscious that the man has been outworn by all-claiming, all-dominating time. The statesman, too, has lost his wizardry: he cannot see afar off; yet he supposes himself to be as great as in his most lustrous prime. All these are common incidents, and are referred to simply to show that they point towards the most disastrous effect of all— that a man may have lost the Spirit of God, and not be aware of his loss. Others look on, and pity him. The prayer has lost its pleading tone; the tears which stream from his eyes are but common water; the upward look sees nothing but cloud; the universe has become a great blank space: the stars glitter, but say nothing; the summer comes, but creates no garden in his soul; and the man does not know it. Who dare tell him? This points towards a possible ghastly condition of affairs. The Church is as large as ever, but Ichabod is written upon its door. The old words are all said, one by one with formal pomp and accuracy, but they are only words— no longer bushes that burn and are not consumed. Again and again remember that the point is that the man did not know it. Had he known it, he would have been a better man; had he really felt that the Lord had gone out from him, he might have begun to cry at last like a child, if he could not pray like a priest How is it with us? Put the question right into the very centre of the soul. We may have more words, more dogmas, more points of controversy, more little orthodox idols; but what are we in the heart, the spirit, the purpose of the mind? Seeing that this great danger is before us, there is one sweet prayer which every day should carry to heaven from our pleading soul. A child can pray it; an angel cannot add to it. That deep, high, grand, all-inclusive prayer is— "Take not thy Holy Spirit from me,"— take health, take friends, take happiness, take all the world values as good and necessary, but take not thy Holy Spirit from me! "Holy Spirit, dwell with me." PrayerAlmighty God, our hope is in thy Son; other hope in very deed we have none. We have hewn out unto ourselves cisterns, but we have found them to be cisterns that could hold no water. So by this experience, so sad and deep, we have come to know that there is no help for man but in the living God, the Saviour of all, who will have all men to be saved. We lay down our arms of rebellion, we renounce our various inventions, and we now come to thee, empty-handed, full of sin in the heart, conscious of great and aggravated wickedness, and casting ourselves upon the work of the Lord Jesus Christ, we say each for himself, God be merciful to me a sinner! We know thine answer; it is a reply of love: where sin abounds, grace shall much more abound; wherein we have grieved thee, we shall be mightily brought back again to thy side, to take part in thy praise, and to be active in thy service. May the time that is past more than suffice; may our inquiry be about the few days that remain; with earnestness, simplicity, fidelity, may we gird ourselves to the work that lies before us, and with all-burning zeal, most constant love, may we do thy will gladly, hoping only for a reward in thine own heaven. Help us in all our life. Its necessities are as numerous as its moments. Our life is one crying want. Let our life be turned into a sacred prayer, by being lifted upwards towards the all-hospitable heavens, and no longer left to grope in the earth for that which can never be found there. As for our burdens, we shall forget them if thou dost increase our strength; our sins shall be cast behind thee, our duty shall be our delight, and our whole life a glowing and acceptable sacrifice. Guide men who are in perplexity; soothe the hearts that are overborne by daily distress; save from despair those who think they have tried every gate and beaten upon every door without success or reply: save such from the agony and blackness of despair; at the very last do thou appear, a shining light, a delivering day, wherein men can see what lies about them, and address themselves to their tasks with the help of the sun. Be round about us in business; save us amid a thousand temptations; direct us along a road that is sown with traps, and gins, and snares; take hold of our hand every step of the journey, and in thine own good time bring us to rest, to death— to life. Amen. Samson— Light and Shadow Judges 14-16IT would be unjust to consider this as a finished picture of the man of strength. In all that we have said we have endeavoured to establish by good reasoning and clear reference. But it would be unjust to pronounce upon any life after merely looking at a few incidental points in its course. That is a danger to which all criticism is exposed. We are prone to look upon vivid incidents, and to omit all the great breadths and spaces of the daily life, and to found our judgment of one another upon peculiarities, eccentricities, and very vivid displays of strength, or very pitiful exhibitions of weakness. This is wrong; this is unjust. Samson has indeed done many things that have startled us. We have been inclined to say now and again in the course of our study, This is the man— the whole man; in this point, or in that, we have the key of his character. Now the reality is that Samson is a greater man than the mere outline of the romantic part of his history would suggest. There was another man than that which we have just seen pass before us— the great giant, the man who played with things that were burdens to other men, the man who was infantile in mental weakness on many occasions; there is another man within that outer man, and until we understand somewhat of that interior personality we cannot grasp the whole character of Samson. We must judge men by the mass of their character. Who would not resent the idea of being tested by the incidents of a few months, rather than being judged by the level and the general tone and the average of a lifetime? Man does not reveal himself in little points, except incidentally and illustratively: hence we must live with the man, and so far as history will allow us to do so we must become identified with him: when we get to understand his motives we shall begin to comprehend his conduct, and when we put together the night and the day, the summer and the winter, the fair youth and the white old age, then we may be in some degree prepared to say what the man in reality was. When this rule of judgment obtains we shall get rid of all pettish ness of criticism, all vain remark upon one another: before pronouncing the final judgment, and especially a harsh verdict, we shall say: We do not know enough about him; we have only seen a few points in the man; he seems to be a greater and fuller man than he disclosed himself to be on the occasions when we saw him; had we seen more of him, and known more of him, we should have come probably to a more generous conclusion. That is the rule of Christian charity, and whoso violates it is no friend of Christ. He may show a certain kind of critical ability, and the very malice of hell in the power of sneering, but he knows nothing about the agony and the love of the Cross. Is the life of Samson, then, comprehended within these few incidents which have just passed before us? The incidents upon which we have remarked might all have occurred within a few months. What was the exact position of Samson in Israel? He judged Israel twenty years. How often is that fact over" looked! we speak of the great strong man, the elephantine child, the huge monstrosity, but who thinks of twenty years' service— the consideration of all the necessities of the people, the frown which made the enemy afraid, the smile which encouraged struggling virtue, the recognition which came very near to being an inspiration? Who knows what headache and heartache the man had in prosecuting and completing the judgeship? Who can be twenty full years at any one service without amassing in that time features, actions, exhibitions of strength and weakness, sagacity, folly,— all of which ought to be taken into account before pronouncing final judgment? Thus may it be with us, or it will go hard with us in the day of partial and prejudiced criticism. Who will condemn you for one little month in your life? Then you were in very deed a fool; you know it; you own it: you broke through the sacred law; you did things you dare not name; you reeled and stumbled and fell, but were up again in a moment. Shall he be judge of your life who saw the reeling and the falling? or shall he be judge who knows that for ten years, twenty, or more, you walked right steadily, a brave soul, charged with generous thoughts, and often doing good with both hands? So it must be with all men. But we are prone to break that rule. How small we are, and unjust, herein; we will turn off a friend who has served us twenty years because of one petulant word which he spoke! Who has the justice, not to say generosity, to take in a whole lifetime, and let little incidents or great incidents fall into their proper perspective? Until we do this we cannot ply the craft of criticism: we are ill judges, and we shall do one another grievous injury. Some physical constitutions are to be pitied. Samson's was particularly such a constitution. He seemed to be all body. He appeared to have run altogether into bone and muscle. He was obviously only a giant. How seldom we see more than one aspect of a man! call up any great name in Biblical history, and you will find how often one little, or great, characteristic is supposed to sum up and express the man. We call up the name of Moses, and think of nothing but his meekness: whereas, there was no man in all the ancient gallery of portraits that could burn with a fiercer anger; he brake stones upon stones, and shattered the very tablets written by the finger of God. We say, Characterise Jeremiah, and instantly we think of his tears, and call him the weeping prophet: whereas who concealed an eloquence equal to his?— a marvellous, many-coloured eloquence, now so strong, and now so pathetic: now all lightning, and now all tears. We must beware of the sophism that a life can be summed up in one little characteristic. Herein God will be Judge. Some men cannot be radiant. They may think they are, but they are only making sport for the Philistines when they are trying the trick of cheerfulness which they cannot learn. Other men cannot be wise. If they have conceived some plan of so-called wisdom, and submit it to you, and take it back again, they set it upside down, and forget exactly where it began and where it ended. They are to be pitied. Weakness is written right across the main line of the face; weakness characterises every tone of the voice. They are not to be judged harshly. Blessed be God, the judgment is with himself, and what if the first be last, and the last be first? Is there hope of renewal for overthrown men? One would hope so:— "Howbeit the hair of his head began to grow again after he was shaven"— (Judges 16:22). Is this real renewal or only apparent? It was not the hair that was in fault, but the soul. We have seen that the strength lay not in the hair, but in the vow which that hair represented and confirmed. If the matter had been one purely of person adornment, the hair might have grown again on the strong and noble head, and covered it as luxuriantly as before; but it was the soul that was shorn of its honour; it was the spirit that parted with its oath. How difficult to renew a broken character! Thank God, it is not impossible. It cannot be done mechanically,— that is to say from the outside, by skilful manipulation, by obedience to tabulated rules and orders,— "Ye must be born again:" it is not enough to renew the profession, to rehabilitate the reputation, to seem to be just as you were before,— "Ye must be born again." Samson's hair comes, the locks are as raven-like as ever, but has the soul been renewed; has the strong man cried mightily unto God for the restoration of his character? That is the vital point, and to trifle with it, pass over it hurriedly, is to lose the wisdom and the music of the occasion. Looking at men outwardly, we say, They seem to be as before; all the outer semblances are excellent, but who are we that we should judge what has taken place within? Outwardly the circumstances may be as before, but the man himself should take care as to what has happened within his soul. He should hold himself in severe and close monologue upon this matter, saying, These people form a good opinion of me; they think now I am a sober, upright, reliable man; I am regular in my church attendances, I keep up with the foremost in the public race, and the general impression seems to be that I have recovered myself,— but have I done so? I will not look at the outer man, but at the heart. Is that steadfast toward God— constant in holy love, burning with pure zeal for righteousness and truth? Man must not judge me in these matters— I must therefore judge myself the more austerely and exhaustively. Blessed are we if we can apply such criticism to ourselves; and blessed if outward appearances dimly typify a spiritual life, an unseen and undying probity of mind. Samson died a curious death. He prayed in his blindness that he might yet show himself a strong man. The Philistines would have sport: Samson would that the occasion of sport might be turned into an occasion of what appeared to him to be just vengeance. Said he: Let me touch the pillars of the house; lay my poor hands on the pillars of this unholy place. And the giant's hands were lifted and put upon the pillars, and Samson cried mightily towards the heavens and shook the pillars, and the house fell, and he himself died with innumerable others. It was a poor way out of the world. But judge nothing by the death scene. In many instances the death scene amounts to nothing. Many a man has gone to heaven straight from the act of suicide. Many a man has died into heaven about whom we are prudently silent, because of some little or great incident which has disturbed our judgment of his character. It is not enough to leave the last transaction to be completed in a few moments of words without sacrifice, of profession without possible realisation. And some may have died and gone to heaven about whom we have our secret fears. Let us entertain no such apprehensions about any man whose twenty years of life lies open for public judgment. Nothing was said at the last; nay, more, the poor man got wrong within the last year of his life: he slipped, he fell, he was laid up a long time; what happened then between him and his Lord we cannot tell; but we have before us an instance or two of such secret and unreported interviews. The man who saw his Lord and plunged into the water, and came to him, had a talk with Christ all alone, and after that he became the most fervent of the apostles. The man is not to be judged by what he did in the last week of his life. It is the life that God will judge— the tone, the purpose, the main idea of the life. What is life indeed but a main idea— a grand central thought and aspiration? We shall delude ourselves and do injustice to others by thinking of collateral circumstances, things on the surface, things that come and go. Many a man has stolen who is no thief. Many a man has been overcome by strong drink who is no drunkard. Many a man has been guilty of innumerable weaknesses who is a strong man in the soul and heart of him. That these generous constructions may be perverted is perfectly possible; but I would rather that wicked men should pervert them than that the men who need such encouragement should go away in despair. We cannot tell what the dogs will do, but the children must nevertheless be fed. If any man should leave this study of Samson saying that licence has been given to do this or that which is wrong, he but aggravates his profanity by a final falsehood. On the other hand, many a man must be cheered, or he will be overwhelmed in despair, and we shall never hear of him any more. What is the central purpose of your life? what is the main idea? Answer that in the right way, and God will be merciful to you. We have still to notice the most important point of all, which, in the mere matter of literal sequence, ought to have come earlier. Samson said he would go out and shake himself as at other times— "and he wist not that the Lord was departed from him "(Judges 16:20). All the outer man was there, but it was a temple without a God. The giant was as grand to look at as ever, but his soul was as a banqueting-hall deserted. And Samson knew it not! that is the painful point— the unknown losses of life, the unconscious losses of life: power gone, and the man not aware of it,— is there any irony so humbling, so awful to contemplate? We may be walking skeletons: we may be men without manliness; we may be houses untenanted: yet the eyes are where they always were, and just as bright, the voice is as vibrant as in olden time; and yet the divinity is dead. And for a man not to know it! We have had experience of this in other than merely religious directions. The writer that used to charm thinks he writes as well as ever, and only the readers are conscious that the genius is extinct: the right hand has forgotten its cunning; the writer does not know it; having filled his page, he says, That is as bright as ever: I never wrote with greater facility: in my old age I have become young again;— he wist not that the spirit of genius had departed from him. So with the preacher. He supposes he preaches as energetically and as happily and usefully as ever; he says he longs for his work more than he ever did; and only the hearers are conscious that the man has been outworn by all-claiming, all-dominating time. The statesman, too, has lost his wizardry: he cannot see afar off; yet he supposes himself to be as great as in his most lustrous prime. All these are common incidents, and are referred to simply to show that they point towards the most disastrous effect of all— that a man may have lost the Spirit of God, and not be aware of his loss. Others look on, and pity him. The prayer has lost its pleading tone; the tears which stream from his eyes are but common water; the upward look sees nothing but cloud; the universe has become a great blank space: the stars glitter, but say nothing; the summer comes, but creates no garden in his soul; and the man does not know it. Who dare tell him? This points towards a possible ghastly condition of affairs. The Church is as large as ever, but Ichabod is written upon its door. The old words are all said, one by one with formal pomp and accuracy, but they are only words— no longer bushes that burn and are not consumed. Again and again remember that the point is that the man did not know it. Had he known it, he would have been a better man; had he really felt that the Lord had gone out from him, he might have begun to cry at last like a child, if he could not pray like a priest How is it with us? Put the question right into the very centre of the soul. We may have more words, more dogmas, more points of controversy, more little orthodox idols; but what are we in the heart, the spirit, the purpose of the mind? Seeing that this great danger is before us, there is one sweet prayer which every day should carry to heaven from our pleading soul. A child can pray it; an angel cannot add to it. That deep, high, grand, all-inclusive prayer is— "Take not thy Holy Spirit from me,"— take health, take friends, take happiness, take all the world values as good and necessary, but take not thy Holy Spirit from me! "Holy Spirit, dwell with me." PrayerAlmighty God, our hope is in thy Son; other hope in very deed we have none. We have hewn out unto ourselves cisterns, but we have found them to be cisterns that could hold no water. So by this experience, so sad and deep, we have come to know that there is no help for man but in the living God, the Saviour of all, who will have all men to be saved. We lay down our arms of rebellion, we renounce our various inventions, and we now come to thee, empty-handed, full of sin in the heart, conscious of great and aggravated wickedness, and casting ourselves upon the work of the Lord Jesus Christ, we say each for himself, God be merciful to me a sinner! We know thine answer; it is a reply of love: where sin abounds, grace shall much more abound; wherein we have grieved thee, we shall be mightily brought back again to thy side, to take part in thy praise, and to be active in thy service. May the time that is past more than suffice; may our inquiry be about the few days that remain; with earnestness, simplicity, fidelity, may we gird ourselves to the work that lies before us, and with all-burning zeal, most constant love, may we do thy will gladly, hoping only for a reward in thine own heaven. Help us in all our life. Its necessities are as numerous as its moments. Our life is one crying want. Let our life be turned into a sacred prayer, by being lifted upwards towards the all-hospitable heavens, and no longer left to grope in the earth for that which can never be found there. As for our burdens, we shall forget them if thou dost increase our strength; our sins shall be cast behind thee, our duty shall be our delight, and our whole life a glowing and acceptable sacrifice. Guide men who are in perplexity; soothe the hearts that are overborne by daily distress; save from despair those who think they have tried every gate and beaten upon every door without success or reply: save such from the agony and blackness of despair; at the very last do thou appear, a shining light, a delivering day, wherein men can see what lies about them, and address themselves to their tasks with the help of the sun. Be round about us in business; save us amid a thousand temptations; direct us along a road that is sown with traps, and gins, and snares; take hold of our hand every step of the journey, and in thine own good time bring us to rest, to death— to life. Amen. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"And he wist not that the Lord was departed from him."—Judges 16:20. This is the saddest of all mental experience.— It has its counterpart even in business and in professional life.— There are men of business who suppose they are as competent and energetic as ever, whilst those who are looking on observe how great is the decay, and how lamentable the weakness.— Men suppose themselves as capable as ever of giving advice in perplexity, yet when they come to counsel the bewildered mind they lose the centre of thought, and miss altogether the purpose which the counsel was intended to serve.— We go away from such men filled with a sense of pity.— Let us apply the same truth to the religious nature.— Note the ghastliness of having a form of godliness without the power thereof.— No irony so distressing.— A man may use the very words of prayer, and yet may not enter into the spirit of fellowship with God.— The picture is that of a man on whose outward appearance no change has been wrought which he himself accounts of any consequence, but within the house of the soul has been stripped of all that was valuable, and is left in emptiness and desolation.— A terrible thing it is to bow down in prayer after God himself has forsaken the altar.— Cut is it possible for a man to have lost fellowship with God, and yet to be unaware of the loss? All history says that it is possible.— Familiarity with certain places and modes and actions may delude the mind into believing that whilst the usage is repeated the spirit is retained.— We grow into a species of self-idolatry sometimes without intention, and often without knowledge.— How are we to know that the Lord is still with us? Always by the simple test of obedience.— But is not obedience itself sometimes a delusive action? Possibly, and therefore we should esteem most highly that obedience which imposes upon us the pain and loss of sacrifice.— How does the Lord depart from a man?— The intellect is apparently as acute as ever, external offices are fulfilled as punctiliously as before, no blemish is found upon the public reputation,— how, then, can God have departed from the man?— The mystery lies in the fact of our composite nature: we are body and soul, flesh and spirit, in us there is both time and eternity, dust of the earth and fire from heaven; and, our life being so complex, we do not instantly know when the very centre of life and thought has been changed— that is, we go on for a little while by a momentum originally received, but which has no power of self-replenishment, and therefore must die when the original inspiration is withdrawn.— Let us not make any religious experiments as Samson did.— He got into a mood of speculation and adventure, saying, If you do this or that, I shall be as other men.— He did not mean at first to tell his secret, but little by little we are led to the giving up of that which is the very mystery and glory of life.— It is infinitely dangerous to tamper with temptation.— There may be a kind of pleasure in taunting the Philistines, misleading them, mocking them, and laughing at them in their disasters, but he should be stronger than ever Samson was who ventures to play with the enemy, and to practise tricks and puzzles for the sake of bewildering and annoying them.— It is impossible to say when the last temptation may come, or how we ourselves may be tempted to try if in reality our strength lay where we supposed it to lie.— The lesson comes back again and again from all quarters, and with a thousand voices— "Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation." Judges 17 (Annotated) Judges 17["A wholly disconnected narrative here follows, without any mark of time by which to indicate whether the events preceded or followed those narrated in the preceding chapter. The only point of contact with the preceding history of Samson is that we are still concerned with the tribe of Dan.—The Speaker's Commentary.] 1. And there was [before the days of Samson] a man of mount Ephraim, whose name was Micah [a contraction of Micayehû = who is like Jehovah]. 2. And he said unto his mother, The eleven hundred shekels of silver [£136] that were taken from thee, about which thou cursedst [thou didst adjure; see Matthew 26:63], and spakest of also in mine ears, behold, the silver is with me; I took it. [See Proverbs 28:24. And his mother said, Blessed be thou of the Lord, my son. 3. And when he had restored the eleven hundred shekels of silver to his mother, his mother said, I had wholly dedicated [consecrating, I consecrated] the silver unto the Lord from my hand for my son, to make a graven image and a molten image: now therefore I will restore it unto thee. 4. Yet [And] he restored the money unto his mother; and his mother took two hundred shekels of silver, and gave them to the founder [see Isaiah's opinion of founders, Isaiah 46:6-10], who made thereof a graven image and a molten image: and they were in the house of Micah. 5. And the man Micah had an house of gods, and made an ephod, and teraphim, and consecrated [installed] one of his sons, who became his priest. 6. In those days there was no king in Israel, but every man did that which was right in his own eyes. [See this forbidden in Deuteronomy 12:8. 7. And there was a young man out of Beth-lehem-judah of the family [tribe] of Judah, who was a Levite, and he sojourned there. [See Genesis 49:7. 8. And the man departed out of the city from Beth-lehem-judah to sojourn where he could find a place: and he came to mount Ephraim to the house of Micah [probably having heard of Micah's chapel], as he journeyed. 9. And Micah said unto him, Whence comest thou? And he said unto him, I am a Levite of Beth-lehem-judah, and I go to sojourn where I may find a place. 10. And Micah said unto him, Dwell with me, and be unto me a father and a priest, and I will give thee ten shekels [the shekel weighed about half an ounce] of silver by the year, and a suit of apparel, and thy victuals. So the Levite went in. 11. And the Levite was content to dwell with the man; and the young man was unto him as one of his sons. 12. And Micah consecrated the Levite [which none might lawfully do but the high-priest]; and the young man became his priest, and was in the house of Micah. 13. Then said Micah, Now know I that the Lord will do me good, seeing I have a Levite to my priest [see next chapter for the answer]. A Series of Surprises The book of Judges properly closes with the sixteenth chapter. What follows after the sixteenth chapter has been described as an appendix— two appendices, indeed, dealing with the case of two Levites. From the seventeenth chapter onward the matter was probably written long before other portions of the book, in the days of Joshua and the greater judges. Certainly, this part of the book was written when there was no king in Israel, and when every man was left to do that which was right in his own eyes. The history of the two Levites is full of romantic interest. The first history is to be read aloud and preached about quite freely; the second is to be read in secret— hardly read at all, and yet fully comprehended, because of the following chapter in which vengeance, just and tremendous, is dealt out to men who inflicted upon Israel a scandal that was never forgotten. Let us publicly and openly read the case of the first Levite, and then read in shame and secrecy what follows; then come into the light once more, and close the book of Judges amid a blaze of glory. Is not this a fair picture of life? What undulation! What incessant variety! what visions of beauty! what disclosures of shame! how bright is the fair, great heaven; and yet how near the deep and awful hell! Micah dwelt in mount Ephraim, and stole silver from his mother: Micah afterwards became a maker of gods. What rapid transitions in character! what wonder if the rapidity of the transitions sometimes excites suspicion as to the reality of the conversion? But is not history condensed? The verses read in flowing sequence, as if no time had elapsed between one line and another: hence the shock with which we come upon the fact that the man who was but yesterday a concealed criminal is today a manufacturer of gods and churches. Is there not a punctuation in life which is inserted by the hand of God? Are not the observers to blame for a good deal of what is called unnatural and too swift transition in character? Who knows what may happen in one hour when God is the minister and a repentant soul is the subject? Sometimes life is wrought out very swiftly, so far as public observation can detect; yet it is being lived very slowly in the consciousness of the man: he is so fired with pain because of conscious sin that he would have himself transported in unnamable swiftness of time into a new consciousness and a blessed individuality. At the same time, a sober lesson does reveal itself at this very point. Whilst conversion may scarcely be too sudden, the manufacture of gods and churches ought not to take place with indecent haste, if at all. It is difficult to believe that a man can spring at one bound from being a concealed felon into being a patron of the universe— a builder of gates that open heaven, a creator of altars and priests. There should be some time spent in solitude, in secrecy, in earnest wrestling prayer: the whole night should be thus spent, and the morning light will shine upon a new personality, bearing a new and larger name. At the same time, recognising the sobriety and gravity of the lesson, let no man be discouraged should he really feel what by its purity must be a divine impulse to move instantly and to act like a man who, having wasted many days, seeks to redeem the time, and to make one day as long as two, by diligent industry, by the passion of consecrated love. This chapter is full of surprises. What can be more surprising than that a layman should consecrate a priest? This is what Micah did. Micah began where he could. Everything was to be done at once. So Micah consecrated one of his sons, who became his priest Men do things in high passion which would be unnatural and almost irrational if done in cold blood. We must always calculate the influence of spiritual temperature upon human action. Some things we must have heard, and not read; the whole meaning was in the way of saying them. The Bible only tells us that certain persons "cried unto the Lord,"— verily a poor report, utterly inadequate, yet all that was possible: for who can write down a "cry"? who can paint, even in letters, an agony? So some allowance must be made for the new spiritual passion of Micah. A man can do great things when he is really on fire. No man knows himself, as to the full volume and bulk of his being, until he is possessed— no longer a little measurable self, but part of an infinite immeasurable totality. We speak of men being "mighty in prayer." They cannot account for it. Yet they know that sometimes they have hold of God, and that omnipotence graciously yields to the gracious violence. Indeed, man must at certain historical periods make priests. Whether we are in such a historical period now, is not the immediate question, but following the unfolding of history along the biblical line we see how now and again man must be almost almighty. Despair finds new energies. Religious despair, religious helplessness, finds God, or makes an image supposed to be like him. Do not let us mock at idolatry of a really heathen kind too flippantly; there may be an aspect of idolatry that touches our sense of the ludicrous, but there is also an aspect of it which touches our tears. To be an idolater in a Christian land is not only an anachronism, it is a blasphemy: but follow the whole history of idolatry and study its pathetic side, and see if it be not true that in man's attempts to make gods, and altars, and priests, there is something infinitely touching. To that mystery in our being a divine revelation may one day be made. It may be at that very point God will begin the miracle of self-revelation— of incarnation. Man must have a priest. There are necessities which cannot be denied— urgencies of soul which must be appeased, soothed, if not gratified. Are not all men looking round— some hopelessly and indistinctly— for helpers, spiritual assistants, for brother-men larger than they and altogether mightier in the nobler life, to lift them up, to eke out their poor expressions, to find prayers which their poor lips may utter as if their own? Is there not something in the heart that cries— "Master, Lord, teach us how to pray"? The fault does not lie in the impulse, but in its perversion; nay, rather, there is an unmistakable touch and signature of divinity in the impulse. Blessed are they who have received the ministry of sanctification and have responded to the divine provision made for great human passions, and great spiritual necessities. Yet no man can make a priest. Priests are the miracles of manhood— men who have the gift of prayer, men who by looking on human sorrow are moved heavenward to intercede on man's behalf A strange gift, signalised by fire, is that of being able to pray in every tongue, so that every man may hear in the tongue in which he was born an interpretation of his soul's poverty and need. Such intercessors are not made by man: these are the gifts of God to every age. "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." Yet this is confining the idea of priesthood to intercession. If it be so confined, what possible objection can be lodged against it? To make a priest anything more than one who is mighty in prayer, mighty in sympathy, keen in moral insight, patient more than woman, is not the work of man. A surprising thing it is that a converted thief should elaborate a religious system: "And the man Micah had an house of gods and made an ephod"— a gorgeous priestly robe— "and teraphim"— little Syrian images. This is a condensed statement. Who can go into the detail of these two lines? "An house of gods "— a consecrated place— a gods' house: what patience in the elaboration of the deities; what painstaking in the fabrication of the ephod; what detailed and critical, if not artistic, care, in the shaping of the teraphim; we are apt to overlook the detail of all worship. Look upon the poorest little church, on the bleakest hillside, and what does it look like but a handful of 6tones rudely put together,— a sight that might be remarked upon at the moment, and passed by and forgotten? yet who can tell the history of these few stones? who knows with what hands they were carried and shaped and put in place? who knows how the labourers toiled when the day's work was done that they might put up the simple structure, to have a home in which to worship God? Who knows at what sacrifice the Bible was bought by these poor peasant worshippers, how small sums were laid by from week to week, and how as the little pile neared maturity the thrifty one almost had the Bible by the anticipation of love, how the Bible was preserved, loved, almost worshipped? Do not let us pass by all these things carelessly as if they meant nothing; they are full of tears, full of pathos, full of that finest quality of manhood which is the real wealth of any nation. Yet Micah was ill at ease. Who can make one of his own sons into his superior? The son was but a makeshift after all. How superstition tyrannises over men! To have a son for a priest as Micah had was like a kind of illicit marriage. A sense of un-naturalness marred the service. The son was quite right in many respects, worthy of confidence and honour and love; but in his official capacity he was still a son. Who does not like his minister to come down out of the clouds? Who likes to see a minister grow up before his very eyes— to know the child at home, to follow the boy at school, to see him pass through various processes, and at length appear as a recognised minister of Christian truth? Who does not feel slightly uneasy if he knows the minister's mother and brothers and sisters? Who does not say, "Are they not all with us? Is not this the carpenter's son"? To some people, if a man is once a carpenter's son, he never can be anything else by all the miracles of Heaven. Why? Because they themselves could never be anything else: they measure themselves in measuring him. Who does not like a species of ghostliness to be round about a minister? Who likes to think that his minister eats and drinks and sleeps? In very deed, some quite hide that aspect of the ministry and graciously pay no attention to it. Micah was but a man. It would be a beautiful thing if ministers could come down from the clouds and go back to the clouds, and we could have nothing to do with them but enjoy a momentary revelation. This has many applications. The man who felt somewhat uneasy or dissatisfied as to his son being priest, represents a great many men. Who could be so grand a minister as the brother sitting at our side, who, suddenly inflamed by the divine presence, rises and speaks to human need in human speech? If we were not so little, so superstitious, so denuded of the higher and sublimer reason, we should find in man— known man— our truest representative. It is because we have misunderstood humanity that we have undervalued the true ministry. But fortune seemed to be upon Micah's side. We are now in times of wandering and adventure and bold enterprise, and in those times a young man was travelling out of Beth-lehem-judah of the family of Judah, and he happened to be a real Levite; and when he came to mount Ephraim, to the house of Micah, Micah elicited his story, and instantly said to him, "Dwell with me, and be unto me a father and a priest." The Levites in those days were driven about. It was mourned in one of the prophetic books that the portion of the Levites was withheld from them. They were under Heaven's frown:— "I will divide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel." So this young man was wandering, more or less in a spirit of enterprise and curiosity; and he came, as we now say, by chance to the house of Micah. There was something interesting about him. He certainly was not a money-seeker; the terms were these:— "And I will give thee ten shekels of silver by the year, and a suit of apparel, and thy victuals" (Judges 17:10)— twenty-five shillings a year was not much for a priest, even including one suit of clothes and victuals. A man who had spent hundreds of shekels upon his gods thought he was liberal in spending five-and-twenty shillings a year on his priests! There are persons who think more of the church as a building than of the minister as a servant of the soul. Who was this Levite? Was he a man of any name? Not much in himself, but he was the grandson of Moses. To what adversities may we come in life, and to what "base uses"! The grandson of Moses, the caretaker of Syrian images, and the priest of an idolater! Who can say to what we may be driven? Once let the centre go; once depart from the vital point; take one step in a wrong direction, and who can calculate the issue? Be steadfast; hold on to the ascertained— to that which is proved to be beneficent, pure, noble; or you may come into a servility which not only disennobles you but throws unjustly a slur on the most famous memory. No man liveth unto himself. We have to take care of the past, if we would really take care of the future. Now Micah was comparatively happy. Micah consecrated the Levite. The Levite was not a priest, but he seemed to have an odour of sanctity about him, and, for the rest, Micah, having once got his hand into priest-making, made no account of it. The young man became his priest, and was in the house of Micah; then Micah was at rest. The greatest surprise of all remains. Here is an idolater appealing to the true God! "Then said Micah, Now know I that the Lord will do me good, seeing I have a Levite to my priest" (Judges 17:13). Here is a false worshipper unconsciously throwing off his own idols! He keeps the idols as men keep cabinets of curiosities. He has a house, a little museum, a small miniature pantheon; but in his finer moods he appeals to the true and living God. So literal are we, we like to have something to lay the hand upon. Men like a substantial and visible religion. Yet Micah felt that God would do him good, seeing he had a Levite for his priest. The son did not quite fill up the space, but now with a real living Levite on the premises, the Lord— the eternal God, the Father of every living thing— will do this man of mount Ephraim good. How we degrade God,— that is to say, how we misconceive him and misrepresent him to ourselves! The Lord will do us good if our heart is right towards him. The Lord will make up for the absence of all priests, ministers churches, books, and ordinances, if we are unable to avail ourselves of such help: God will allow us to eat the shewbread, if there be no other food with which to appease our hunger. The true Church is where the right heart is. God himself is a Spirit. There is no image of him that can be made by human hands. There is one Priest— Jesus Christ, the true Melchizedek. He alone can sacrifice and has sacrificed and is sacrificed for us. There is one altar— the cross— the cross of Jesus Christ: God forbid that we should even know any other altar than the cross of our redeeming, atoning, glorious Saviour. For what are we looking? We cannot appease our deepest needs, silence our most poignant cries, by any manufactures possible to our ingenuity and skill: the Son of God is the Saviour of the world; he is able to save unto the utmost all that come unto God by him, seeing that he ever liveth to make intercession for us. If any man should now say that he himself is needful to our communion with Heaven, he is more than wrong in opinion, the case is infinitely more serious than that which can be measured by mere mistakenness of judgment: he usurps the place of Christ, he dethrones the Son of God, he at least divides the prerogative of the one Advocate. This, then, is our Christian position: Man needs a priest— that Priest is Jesus Christ; man needs communion with Heaven— that communion is spiritual; man needs an answer to the agony of his own accusation— that answer is in the cross of Christ. These are great mysteries, but the soul may become reverently familiar with them, after great suffering, prolonged prayer, and simple trust in the living God. PrayerAlmighty God, thou hast recorded thy name in thy house, and there thou wilt meet them that seek thee. The heart seeketh God in all its pain and need; the spirit crieth out for the living God, as a land that is thirsty cries out for the great rain. We bless thee for this hunger and for this thirst; a blessing follows this desire, for this desire is none other than the gift of God. Now we know the meaning of the blessing pronounced upon those who hunger and thirst after righteousness. Hereby know we that we are not of the earth earthy, but that we have in us the fire of God, the spark of deity, the mysterious power which makes us thy children. We cannot be satisfied with what we see, or hear, or touch; beyond all this we have needs they cannot satisfy. Our satisfaction is in the living God; our rest is in heaven; we are at peace only when we are reconciled unto God by our Lord Jesus Christ; therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God, and now we rejoice as those who have entered into harmony with the spirit of heaven, and to whom is reserved an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. Our joy is pure; our peace is unspeakable; our heaven has begun below. We bless thee for all that is meant by the name Jesus Christ; in it is all eternity, and in it is all time; it is the music of creation; it is the Gospel addressed to human hearts; it is a refuge in time of need. When we need refuge, Jesus Christ is more to us than at any other time; when we feel our own littleness, then we see Christ's majesty. We come to the throne by the way of the cross. We bring with us no virtue of our own, but crying necessity, burning pain, consciousness of a great void; and yet we bring with us also a great hope; we feel that we shall not be disappointed whilst we linger at the cross, and pray where Jesus died. Our heart is full of thankfulness because of thy great mercy and care. Every day witnesses to thy tender lovingkindness. Thou dost live for thy creation; thou dost live in it, and through it all thou dost send currents of life, utterances of music, gospels of grace. So would we live that we may enter into thy purpose, and embody it, and realise it to those who look on. This being our desire, it shall surely be answered; for thou canst not deny thine own inspirations: these longings are part of the yearning of thine own solicitude. Thou wilt reply to us graciously, even when thou dost contradict and repel us in the mere letter. Why should we importune thee in the letter, when thou hast taught us to pray in the spirit and to fall into happy harmony with all thy will, first crucifying ourselves with Christ, and then having known the fellowship of his sufferings, knowing also the power of his resurrection? We will cast ourselves into thine hands, not daring to utter one petition lest we should offend thy purpose, but comprehending all our prayer in the one complete desire that thy will may be done on earth as it is done in heaven. We bless thee for all the hints of a better life, which we obtain from the existence through which we are now passing: we are walking in the night-time; we have nothing but the stars to read; but they are thy lights; thou hast set them in appointed places; thou hast taught them to glitter according to thy will, and to speak to the observant eye in significant light: and are not the breezes, too, full of hints of a better land? are they not tinctured with a fragrance not of earth? do they not come to us bringing health and revival and sweetness— all hints of a greater state? And the earth is for man: it is full of symbol and suggestion and strange writing, to be made out by the scholars of Christ. We will walk on— now up the steep places, wishing they were not so high; now down into the valleys, wishing they were not so long: but thou wilt not allow these selfish wishes to mar the perfectness of our resignation when we say with the spirit, Thy will be done on earth as it is done in heaven. All our ways are in thine hands. Keep us wherever we are; keep us near the altar, near the cross, and thus near thine own heaven. We commend one another always to thy gracious keeping: we can only be kept as we are held in the hollow of thine hand: outside that hand there is no security; within it is the security of almightiness. Help us in all good purposes; give us steadfastness therein— that sacred determination, that faithful constancy, which comes of conviction akin to inspiration. Be with all who are on the sea— that great, wide, troubled sea. Be with all our friends who are far away— in the colonies, in other lands, speaking other languages, seeking to establish friendly relations with other peoples, struggling for bread, promoting the interests of civilisation, living a hard life that they may make the lives of others easier. Forget not our sick-chambers— the churches in our homes, the abodes of pain, chambers set apart for whispering, and thought, and patience, and prayer. Be with all persons in difficulty, extremity, intolerable anxiety, and grant unto such answers to their pain from heaven; then shall they sing in the night-time and glory exceedingly even in tribulation, knowing the dominion of God in human life, and answering with glad belief the gospel that thou doest all things well. Let thy word flame like a sun, or descend like the dew, or breathe into our hearts like the still small voice. Let it come as thou wilt, under what symbol thou dost ordain, only let it come— a word of emancipation, a word of benediction, a word of comfort, gracious as the speech of Christ, and sacred as his blood. Amen. Judges 18 (Annotated) Judges 181. In those days there was no king in Israel: and in those days the tribe [may mean a tribe, or the division of a tribe] of the Danites sought them an inheritance to dwell in; for unto that day all their inheritance [a description of their inheritance is given in Joshua 19:40-46] had not fallen unto them among the tribes of Israel. 2. And the Children of Dan sent of their family five men from their coast [their lords], men of valour [sons of force], from Zorah, and from Eshtaol, to spy out the land, and to search it; and they said unto them, Go, search the land: and when they came to mount Ephraim, to the house of Micah, they lodged there [Pythias was rich enough to entertain the whole army of Xerxes, a million men, yet he died a beggar]. 3. When they were by the house of Micah, they knew the voice [perhaps by its dialect He had lived in Bethlehem] of the young man the Levite: and they turned in thither [into the room where he was officiating], and said unto him, Who brought thee hither? and what makest thou in this place? and what hast thou here? 4. And he said unto them, Thus and thus [according to this and according to that] dealeth Micah with me, and hath hired me, and I am his priest [because of the dearth of priests, Jeroboam made priests of the lowest of the people]. 5. And they said unto him [having seen glittering ephods], Ask counsel, we pray thee, of God [for censure upon such inquiry, see Isaiah 30:4; Hosea 4:12], that we may know whether our way which we go shall be prosperous. 6. And the priest said unto them, Go in peace: before the Lord is your way wherein you go [carefully ambiguous]. 7. Then the five men departed, and came to Laish [the mound of the judge], and saw the people that were therein, how they dwelt careless, after the manner of the Zidonians [they were supposed to be a colony from Zidon], quiet and secure; and there was no magistrate in the land, that might put them to shame in any thing; and they were far from the Zidonians, and had no business with any man [some read— they had no business with Syria]. 8. And they came unto their brethren to Zorah and Eshtaol: and their brethren said unto them, What say ye? 9. And they said, Arise, that we may go up against them: for we have seen the land, and, behold, it is very good [Numbers 14:7; Joshua 2:23-24]: and are ye still? be not slothful to go, and to enter to possess the land. 10. When ye go, ye shall come unto a people secure, and to a large land [wide on both hands]: for God hath given it into your hands; a place where there is no want of any thing that is in the earth. 11. And there went from thence of the family of the Danites, out of Zorah and out of Eshtaol, six hundred men appointed [girded] with weapons of war. 12. And they went up, and pitched in Kirjath-jearim [city of forests: nine miles from Jerusalem] in Judah: wherefore they called that place Mahaneh-dan [camp of Dan] unto this day: behold, it is behind [to the west of] Kirjath-jearim. 13. And they passed thence unto mount Ephraim, and came into the house of Micah [or precincts of the god-house]. 14. Then answered the five men that went to spy out the country of Laish, and said unto their brethren, Do ye know that there is in these houses an ephod, and teraphim, and a graven image, and a molten image? now therefore consider what ye have to do [whether, and how, you would possess yourself of them]. 15. And they turned thitherward, and came to the house of the young man [Jonathan] the Levite, even unto the house of Micah, and saluted him ["won with an apple, lost with a nut"]. 16. And the six hundred men appointed with their weapons of war, which were of the children of Dan, stood by the entering of the gate. 17. And the five men that went to spy out the land went up, and came in thither, and took the graven image, and the ephod, and the teraphim, and the molten image: and the priest stood in the entering of the gate [having been inveigled thither to talk to the six hundred men] with the six hundred men that were appointed with weapons of war. 18. And these went into Micah's house, and fetched the carved image, the ephod, and the teraphim, and the molten image [not to destroy but to worship]. Then said the priest unto them, What do ye? 19. And they said unto him, Hold thy peace, lay thine hand upon thy mouth [finger on the lip, is the altitude of the Egyptian god of silence], and go with us, and be to us a father and a priest: is it better for thee to be a priest unto the house of one man, or that thou be a priest unto a tribe and a family in Israel [the papists offered Luther the cardinalate to be quiet]? 20. And the priest's heart was glad [and this was a grandson of Moses], and he took the ephod, and the teraphim, and the graven image, and went in the midst of the people [where he was well guarded]. 21. So they turned and departed, and put the little ones [so it was a regular migration] and the cattle and the carriage [the baggage] before them [expecting to be pursued]. 22. And when they were a good way from the house of Micah, the men that were in the houses near to Micah's house were gathered together, and overtook the children of Dan. 23. And they cried unto the children of Dan. And they turned their faces, and said unto Micah, What aileth thee, that thou comest with such a company [the grim humour of a tribe like a serpent on the way, an adder in the path, Genesis 49:17]? 24. And he said, Ye have taken away my gods [remember Laban, Genesis 30:31] which I made, and the priest, and ye are gone away: and what have I more? and what is this that ye say unto me, What aileth thee? 25. And the children of Dan said unto him, Let not thy voice be heard among us, lest angry fellows [men bitter of soul] run upon thee, and thou lose thy life, with the lives of thy household. 26. And the children of Dan went their way: and when Micah saw that they were too strong for him, he turned and went back unto his house. 27. And they took the things which Micah had made, and the priest which he had, and came unto Laish, unto a people that were at quiet and secure: and they smote them with the edge of the sword, and burnt the city with fire [" Dan was no gainer. His name disappears from the records of 1 Chronicles 4:1, and he is not mentioned among the elected tribes in Rev. vii."]. 28. And there was no deliverer, because it was far from Zidon, and they had no business with any man; and it was in the valley that lieth by Beth-rehob [at the foot of the lowest range of Lebanon]. And they built a city, and dwelt therein. 29. And they called the name of the city Dan, after the name of Dan their father, who was born unto Israel; howbeit the name of the city was Laish at the first. 30. And the children of Dan set up the graven image [some say it was in the form of a calf]; and Jonathan [the name has been withheld until this moment], the son of Gershom, the son of Manasseh, he and his sons were priests to the tribe of Dan until the day of the captivity of the land [probably the Philistine captivity]. 31. And they set them up Micah's graven image, which he made, all the time that the house of God was in Shiloh. Micah's Sorrow WE now reach a very disturbed state of the history of Israel. All is anarchy. We have thus an opportunity of seeing what men will do when they are left to themselves without government, discipline, sense of social or natural responsibility. We shall see what the bridge is when the keystone has dropped out of it. We are told again and again in these latter chapters that "there was no king in Israel," so "every man did that which was right in his own eyes." What is the meaning of this? The meaning goes further back than the mere letter; there was no king in Israel, because in Israel there was no God. The Lord is King. You cannot have a king if you have not a God. There was no nominal renunciation of God, no public and blatant atheism, no boastful impiety; there was a deadlier heresy— namely, keeping God as a sign but paying no tribute to him as a King, worshipping him possibly in outward form but knowing nothing of the subduing and directing power of godliness. That is more to be dreaded than any intellectual difficulty of a theological kind. Intellectual heresies can do but little to impede the progress of the kingdom of truth; but dead consciences, prayerless prayers, mechanical formalities— these are the impediments which overturn for a time the chariot of Progress. This was the case in Israel. Where God is the king is. Not in any limited and measurable sense, as a man with a crown on, constituted of so much gold and so many precious stones; but a king in the sense of kingliness, sovereignty, authority, rule— the spirit of obligation and responsibility. You may have a king under any form of government. Republicanism itself is monarchical. You find the monarch everywhere— the right monarch where you find the right God. Herein is the utility of spreading far and wide right conceptions of the divine Being, as Sovereign, Father, Shepherd, Judge; let such conceptions be received into the mind; let them constitute part of the very substance of life, and you need not exhort men to keep correct weights and measures, and to pay the wages of the hireling; where the sovereign idea is right, and the supreme and dominating conviction is pure and noble, every finger of the hands serves the living God, and the whole breath is a continual sacrifice upon the altar of Righteousness. So, without going into narrow definitions of terms, we rest on the broad philosophy and reason that a right conception of God means a right conception of Man; a true, deep, complete love of God means an equal love of one's neighbour; a true theology, properly understood, is the uppermost side of a true morality. Every man was king in the anarchical days of Israel. What does anarchy do for society? Anarchy and society are irreconcilable terms. Where Self is king there can be no society; the ghastly image of it must be symbolical of injustice. The illustration and proof are found in this very chapter. Dan went out to see what could be had:— "The children of Dan sent of their family five men from their coasts, men of valour, from Zorah, and from Eshtaol, to spy out the land, and to search it; and they said unto them, Go, search the land" (Judges 18:2). In other words: Let us see what can be done. They followed the good old rule, the simple plan,— Let those take who have the power; Let those keep who can. This is the history of anarchy in a couplet: the strongest is the wisest, might is right, usurpation is justice. Things are turned upside down in their moral relations and applications when the great central thought is destroyed. Here a curious incident occurred. Dan, searching out the land and seeing what could be done, "knew the voice of the young man the Levite" in the house of Micah; "and they turned in thither, and said unto him, Who brought thee hither? and what makest thou in this place? and what hast thou here?"— (Judges 18:3). Such are the coincidences of life— the little points at which so-called providences are created by selfishness and injustice. Singular chances arise, and we construe these into visitations of Heaven, made directly on our behalf. The young man explained his circumstances; and the children of Dan said unto him: "Ask counsel, we pray thee, of God, that we may know whether our way which we go shall be prosperous" (Judges 18:5). Here you have social injustice connected with the holiest names. It is sad to see how religion has been abused. It is mysterious, beyond all other mystery, to note how men, given up to injustice, usurpation, and plunder, must now and again be religious. Thieves go to church as well as honest men. Again and again it strikes the roughest mind and the most ill-treated conscience that another attempt at prayer may be an excellent investment. For irony, look to the history of the human conscience; read the history of the Christian Church. Men have thought they could build their way half up to heaven with stones taken by unjust hands out of the quarries of earth. Men "have stolen the livery of the court of heaven to serve the devil in." Men, who would not for a moment deny God in words, have denied and rejected him in action. We should analyse our prayers, and cross-examine ourselves at the altar, and keep a strict watch upon ourselves at the holy board,— even there the whole nature should undergo a species of vivisection, that out of its agony we may extort the truth. The seventh verse presents a picture of the dangers of solitariness and self-security:— "Then the five men departed, and came to Laish, and saw the people that were therein, how they dwelt careless, after the manner of the Zidonians, quiet and secure; and there was no magistrate in the land, that might put them to shame in any thing; and they were far from the Zidonians, and had no business with any man." These circumstances have a wide application. They must not be limited by geographical lines, for they apply to the history of civilisation and to the position of every man in human society. There is a solitariness which means weakness; there is a "care lessness" which amounts to a temptation to those who behold it. Is this not so with regard to mind? Are there not persons who have intellectually no commerce with the world?— they read no books, they hear no discourses, they listen not to the voice of education or of progress; they live retrospectively; they live upon themselves, and are in a sense suicides. This intellectual solitariness is often but another name for weakness. We should know all men, all nations, all languages; all civilisations should be familiar to us. Without such large commerce with the world we shall become little and less and less, day by day, falling swiftly backward to the vanishing point. We should travel more; otherwise we shall think that one country is the world, and be amused with a fool's merriment when we hear of what is being done, in some distant kind of way, by nations which we are conceited enough to pronounce "foreign." There should be no "foreign" nations now. Modern civilisation should have rendered that an impossibility. Every language should be a man's mother-tongue— in the ideal of it, in the innermost meaning of it; not that it is possible literally and mechanically, but perfectly possible sympathetically and philanthropically. It is sad to see people dwelling within their own little sect, wondering how other persons can have the "audacity" to differ from them— forgetting that they themselves have the "audacity" to differ from other people. Why this fear of man? We should be familiar with the history of barbarism, so far as it may be said to have a history; or we should construct a history out of what we know concerning it, and out of the history extract a philosophy. This is the way to rebuke our own mind, to humble our own ambition, and to have our asperities struck off or smoothed down, by a large and continuous friction. So it should be in Christian culture. All Christian communions should intermingle. They would do one another good. They can never be constituted into one mechanical society, because of temperament, but they can realise a common brotherhood, because they may be stronger at the point of agreement than they are at the point of difference. What havoc the enemy makes upon solitary Christians! Sympathy is strength. Little trust is little support. No one Church can be the whole Church of the living God. But who does not like to live "quietly," and "carelessly"— that is, without care, not indifference— at home, sitting, as we say, under his own vine and fig-tree? If there is a pitiable sight on the whole earth today, it is to see a man sitting under his own vine and fig-tree, when the rest of the world is in poverty, weakness, or necessity. Times there will be, sabbatic and sacred, when there will be sense of home, sense of security, sense of the blessedness of having a vine and fig-tree; but that should never be the dominating feeling in the Christian breast; the dominating feeling should rather be one of large-heartedness, spreading a table for every man, asking a blessing in every language, and preaching a gospel to every creature. This was Christ's life; this was Christ's philosophy; this was Christ's practice. Let us be followers together of Christ, of God, "as dear children." The history having advanced so far, and the men of Dan having reported that they had found in certain houses "an ephod, and teraphim, and a graven image, and a molten image," a singular transaction took place:— "And the five men that went to spy out the land went up, and came in thither, and took the graven image, and the ephod, and the teraphim, and the molten image: and the priest stood in the entering of the gate with the six hundred men that were appointed with weapons of war" (Judges 18:17). This was a capture of shrines and images. Rather than not have a god they thought it better to steal one; and having stolen the gods, of course they stole the priest. They put a case to him, saying: "Hold thy peace, lay thine hand upon thy mouth, and go with us, and be to us a father and a priest: is it better for thee to be a priest unto the house of one man, or that thou be a priest unto a tribe and a family in Israel?"— (Judges 18:19). It was an appeal to ambition. That was offering the man a "larger sphere of usefulness." We have seen what his salary was in the house of Micah— namely, twenty-five shillings a year, a suit of clothes, and his victuals. Now comes a "call of Providence." Woe be unto us when we receive intimations of Providence through the lips of thieves! Distrust the devil even when he preaches a good doctrine; repel him even when he quotes Scripture by chapter and verse. What was the answer of the grandson of Moses? "And the priest's heart was glad, and he took the ephod, and the teraphim, and the graven image, and went in the midst of the people"— (Judges 18:20). To trust a thievish priest one would say would be impossible. But such contradictions are repeated in human history. The children of Dan knew that all had been stolen, including the priest himself, and yet they had some kind of grim trust in all this wild arrangement. Truly, there was no king in Israel; truly, there was no God in Israel! We should simplify our relations to great central truths. We have managed, by some process not to be explained in words, to turn religion into a great complication, so that, not understanding it, we often pervert it. To what humiliation may the human intellect and conscience be reduced! To think that stolen images could do any good! On the other hand, to suppose that the gods stolen should consent to be the protecting divinities of thieves! Yet this is the danger of every day's religious experience— namely, the danger of a perverted conscience, an unbalanced judgment, a blurred confusion as to moral relations and obligations, so that having brought ourselves into intellectual and spiritual tumult, we justify our bad conduct by our bad metaphysics! Men may steal a god, but they cannot steal a character. They may take away a whole house of gods— as Micah's building was called— and yet have no living temple, no inner sanctuary, in which to worship and to love. Micah's part in the matter is singularly illustrative of much that is taking place today. Micah having discovered the theft, "overtook the children of Dan. And they cried unto the children of Dan. And they turned their faces, and said unto Micah, What aileth thee, that thou comest with such a company? And he said, Ye have taken away my gods which I made, and the priest, and ye are gone away: and what have I more? and what is this that ye say unto me, What aileth thee?" (Judges 18:22-24). The process of deprivation went on quickly. Having stolen a god, the thieves next stole a city; having corrupted a priest, they debased a memory; and they called the name of the stolen city Dan, "after the name of Dan their father." So swiftly may men run on the smooth road to hell! Once get the hand well into wickedness, and the rest comes by daily custom and practice. We sanctify our bad deeds by attaching to some of them the names of illustrious ancestors. How deceitful is the heart and desperately wicked! What a mixture is life! what lines of various hue are shot through and through this fabric of being! Here are men stealing gods, and asking counsel of Heaven; stealing a priest and all the shrines they could lay hold of, and then justifying themselves thereby in taking a city; seizing a city occupied by inoffensive people, burning it, building another upon its ashes, and calling it by the name of a dead man. Who can analyse human life? Who can really take to pieces the mystery of human action? The whole history is not bad; certainly the whole history is not good. This, indeed, is the summary of life. Where is there a man— speaking only now of the individual— who is all bad? Surely there is not one; surely the drunkard sometimes pauses in his madness to think some good thought of the days of long ago when he tried to pray; surely even the thief does not take everything, and partly excuses himself for having taken something by saying that he has left something untaken; surely the liar sometimes strikes some note of truth; surely the unjust man has a sudden impulse upon him which leads him to do not only justly but generously. And where is the man who is all good, without stain or taint or flaw or drawback? Where? So, on the one hand, we have some reason for hope; on the other, much reason for humility and continual self-examination. But the time of judgment is not yet. God will judge us all, and he will find out the supreme motive of life, and by that he will determine everything. This is a gospel, and yet it is a judgment terrible to hear. Blessed be God, we stand in this conviction— namely, "God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." God dwelleth in the humble heart and contrite spirit. God cannot be stolen, though his image and symbol may. Blessed are they who have passed beyond the letter into the meaning of the spirit of things, knowing somewhat of God's own heart and entering sympathetically into God's own purpose; then though the literal Bible be burned, revelation remains untouched; though the church built with hands— "the sacrifice in stone"— is demolished, the temple indestructible is in the heart; though forms and ceremonies are unremembered things, the soul goes up in continual aspiration, seeking the living God and desiring only to be found in the living Christ. Selected Note The worship in Micah's house, in its object and intention, was the worship of Jehovah. Both mother and son did what they did "to the Lord." Their "gods," as they are called— their "images," "teraphim"— were set up for the purpose of a service which was meant to honour" the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."... They were significant emblems, something having a sacred meaning, which embodied religious ideas, and were to be used as a help in approaching God. They were visible types of spiritual things; material representations of what was unseen; vehicles, so to speak, by which the mind could be aided in rising upwards towards heaven, and through which divine virtue could flow down to man upon earth. It was the same with Aaron's golden calf and the calves set up by Jeroboam. In each case the professed object of the service was Jehovah. The visible things were not to be worshipped; God was to be worshipped through them. "But the thing that was done displeased the Lord." All such unauthorised attempts to aid devotion through "the likeness of anything in the heaven above or in the earth beneath" were rejected and stigmatised as sinful. Whenever employed, they "became a snare," and "caused Israel to sin." Micah was, in his way, very religious. He was not pre-eminently honest; he had but a slight sense of relative duty, and cannot be supposed to have known much of personal moral culture. It is possible, indeed, that he stole his mother's property with the pious intention of making it into images for "the honour of God." His religion consisted in a blind and superstitious veneration for the outward and visible in divine worship, and in depending for spiritual grace (if ever he thought of that) on ceremony and ritual. Hence his anxiety to have "a father and a priest," that the priest should be consecrated, that he should minister in the proper sacerdotal robe, and especially that he should be of the sacred tribe, and belong to the legitimate Levitical succession. His highest expectations were founded on this; not on character, either in the Levite or himself; not on intelligence and capacity to edify and instruct; simply on the fact that "he had a Levite for his priest." —Thomas Binney. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"When Micah saw that they were too strong for him, he turned."—Judges 18:26. Different estimates of strength.— Men are tested by circumstances.— If the pursuers had been fewer, Micah would have summoned up courage and acted differently.— He gave way. as men are now doing, to the force of numbers.— "Follow not a multitude to do evil."— The lesson is repeated in the experience of many; as, for example, in the experience of the young man who explains his conduct by saying that all his companions are pressing in one direction, and that it would be folly for him to attempt to resist them.— It applies also to the custom or fashion of the day.— Men say, As well be out of the world as be out of the fashion. When they see that the customs of society are too strong for them, they themselves turn, sophistically and foolishly arguing that it is in vain for one man to suppose that he can turn back the tide of public opinion or the flood of universally-established custom.— All history proves that solitary men have often been stronger than multitudes.— The only counting which we should permit ourselves to adopt is a reckoning as to the presence of God with us in our enterprises; assured that he goes forth with us, we have nothing to do with any other arithmetic.— Though an host should encamp against us, God will be our confidence, and will bring in our judgment and triumph.— Always ask on which side is God, on which side is Jesus Christ, on which side is conscience: and, having ascertained that side, there need be no further enumeration of forces.— The good man always says, and in saying it redoubles his courage, They that be for me are more than those that be against me. Judges 191. And it came to pass in those days [not long after Joshua's death, and before Othniel was judge], when there was no king in Israel, that there was a certain Levite sojourning on the side of mount Ephraim, who took to him a concubine [such relations were not legally forbidden] out of Beth-lehem-judah. 2. And his concubine [wife or concubine,— a wife with inferior rights] played the whore against him, and went away from him [Proverbs 30:21], unto her father's house to Beth-lehem-judah, and was there four whole months [literally, days four months; or, one year and four months]. 3. And her husband arose, and went after her, to speak friendly [to speak to her heart] unto her, and to bring her again, having his servant with him and a couple of asses [one was meant to convey his wife]: and she brought him into her father's house: and when the father of the damsel saw him, he rejoiced to meet him. 4. And his father-in-law [so the relationship was recognised], the damsel's father, retained him [with hospitable and affectionate intentions]; and he abode with him three days: so they did eat and drink, and lodged there ["in token of hearty reconciliation"]. 5. And it came to pass on the fourth day, when they arose early in the morning [to avoid the burning heat], that he rose up to depart ["It is good hearing when the Levite maketh haste home. An honest man's heart is where his calling is "]. And the damsel's father said unto his son-in-law, Comfort thine heart [literally, prop up thine heart] with a morsel of bread, and afterward go your way. 6. And they sat down, and did eat and drink both of them together: for the damsel's father had said unto the man, Be content, I pray thee, and tarry all night, and let thine heart be merry. 7. And when the man rose up to depart, his father-in-law urged him [to test his good intentions towards a faithless woman]: therefore he lodged there again. 8. And he arose early in the morning on the fifth day to depart: and the damsel's father said, Comfort thine heart, I pray thee. And they tarried [lingered] until afternoon, and they did eat both of them. 9. And when the man rose up to depart, he, and his concubine, and his servant, his father-in-law, the damsel's father, said unto him, Behold, now the day draweth toward evening [literally, is weak or has slackened to evening], I pray you tarry all night: behold, the day groweth to an end [literally, it is the bending or declining of the day], lodge here, that thine heart may be merry; and to-morrow get you early on your way, that thou mayst go home [to thy tent]. 10. But the man would not tarry that night, but he rose up and departed, and came over against Jebus [so called in the clays of David], which is Jerusalem; and there were with him two asses saddled; his concubine also was with him. 11. And when they were by Jebus, the day was far spent [he had been detained too long by hospitality]; and the servant said unto his master, Come, I pray thee, and let us turn in into this city of the Jebusites [which they would reach about five o'clock], and lodge in it. 12. And his master said unto him, We will not turn aside hither into the city of a stranger [think of Jerusalem being so described!], that is not of the children of Israel: we will pass over to Gibeah [the Gibeah of Saul,— the birthplace of the first king of Israel]. 13. And he said unto his servant, Come, and let us draw near to one of these places to lodge all night, in Gibeah, or in Ramah [two miles beyond Gibeah]. 14. And they passed on and went their way; and the sun went down upon them when they were by Gibeah [which determined them to stay], which belongeth to Benjamin [there were many other Gibeahs in Palestine]. 15. And they turned aside thither, to go in and to lodge in Gibeah [Poneropolis, or city of the Evil One]; and when he went in [through the city gate], he sat him down in a street [open place, or square] of the city: for there was no man that took them into his house to lodging [Deut. x. 9] [They would have gone on to Ramah, two miles farther north, had the daylight held out. Sunset in that latitude is almost immediately followed by darkness]. 16. And, behold, there came an old man from his work out of the field at even [an old man; an old man working; an old man working out of doors], which was also of mount Ephraim [a fellow countryman of the Levite]; and he sojourned in Gibeah: but the men of the place were Benjamites. 17. And when he had lifted up his eyes, he saw a wayfaring man in the street of the city: and the old man said, Whither goest thou? and whence comest thou? 18. And he said unto him, We are passing from Beth-lehem-judah toward the side of mount Ephraim [the depths of the hill country of mount Ephraim]; from thence am I: and I went to Beth-lehem-Judah, but I am now going to the house of the Lord [or, I am a Levite engaged in the service of the Tabernacle at Shiloh]; and there is no man that receiveth me to house [Hesiod reckons this as supreme wickedness]. 19. Yet there is both straw and provender [any grain fit for food of cattle] for our asses; and there is bread and wine also for me and for thy handmaid, and for the young man which is with thy servants: there is no want of any thing. 20. And the old man said, Peace be with thee [not merely a greeting, but an assurance of help]; howsoever let all thy wants lie upon me; only lodge not in the street [Genesis 19:2]. 21. So he brought him into his house, and gave provender unto the asses [it was the custom of the East to attend first to the wants of the animals]: and they washed their feet, and did eat and drink. 22. Now as they were making their hearts merry, behold, the men of the city, certain sons of Belial [sons of worthlessness], beset the house round about, and beat at the door, and spake to the master of the house, the old man, saying, Bring forth the man that came into thine house, that we may know him [Hosea 9:9]. 23. And the man, the master of the house, went out unto them, and said unto them, Nay, my brethren, nay, I pray you, do not so wickedly; seeing that this man is come into mine house [an appeal to the sacred rights of hospitality], do not this folly. 24. Behold, here is my daughter, a maiden [see from what depths the world has risen], and his concubine; them I will bring out now, and humble ye them, and do with them what seemeth good unto you: but unto this man do not so vile a thing. 25. But the men would not hearken to him: so the man took his concubine, and brought her forth unto them; and they knew her, and abused her all the night until the morning: and when the day began to spring, they let her go. 26. Then came the woman in the dawning of the day, and fell down at the door of the man's house where her lord was, till it was light. 27. And her lord rose up in the morning, and opened the doors of the house, and went out to go his way: and, behold, the woman his concubine was fallen down at the door of the house, and her hands were upon the threshold [as if in one last appeal of agony and despair]. 28. And he said unto her, Up, and let us be going. But none answered. Then the man took her up upon an ass, and the man rose up, and gat him unto his place. 29. And when he was come into his house, he took a knife, and laid hold on his concubine, and divided her, together with her bones, into twelve pieces, and sent her into all the coast of Israel [that he might rouse a spirit of vengeance]. 30. And it was so, that all that saw it said, There was no such deed done nor seen from the day that the children of Israel came up out of the land of Egypt unto this day [and so soon after the death of Joshua]: consider of it, take advice, and speak your minds. [The nineteenth chapter would be intolerable but for the twentieth; the two must be read together. When men remark upon the awful depravity of the one they should remember the awful vengeance of the other.]. Judges 201. Then all the children of Israel went out, and the congregation [the whole community of Israel] was gathered together as one man [a phrase which disappears after the days of Solomon], from Dan even to Beersheba [from one extremity to another,— a proverbial expression for all Israel], with the land of Gilead [the transjordanic tribes], unto the Lord in Mizpeh [not the one mentioned in Judges 11:11]. 2. And the chief [literally, the corner-stones] of all the people, even of all the tribes of Israel, presented themselves in the assembly of the people of God, four hundred thousand [so the number had been diminished by one third] footmen that drew sword [the Israelites were forbidden to use either chariot or cavalry]. 3. (Now the children of Benjamin heard that the children of Israel were gone up to Mizpeh.) Then said the children of Israel, Tell us, how was this wickedness? 4. And the Levite, the husband of the woman that was slain, answered and said, I came into Gibeah, that belongeth to Benjamin, I and my concubine, to lodge. 5. And the men [lords or masters] of Gibeah rose against me ["The Levite colours the story in a way most favourable to himself"], and beset the house round about upon me by night, and thought to have slain me: and my concubine have they forced, that she is dead. 6. And I took my concubine, and cut her in pieces, and sent her throughout all the country of the inheritance of Israel: for they have committed lewdness and folly in Israel. 7. Behold, ye are all children of Israel: give here your advice and counsel. 8. And all the people rose as one man [1 Samuel 11:7], saying, We will not any of us go to his tent [the transjordanic tribes were principally graziers], neither will we any of us turn into his house. 9. But now this shall be the thing which we will do to Gibeah; we will go up by lot against it ["The shape of the ground probably made it impossible for the whole force to operate at once"]: 10. And we will take ten men of an hundred throughout all the tribes of Israel, and an hundred of a thousand, and a thousand out of ten thousand, to fetch victual for the people, that they may do, when they come to Gibeah of Benjamin, according to all the folly that they have wrought in Israel. 11. So all the men of Israel were gathered against the city, knit together as one man [fellows of one college or club]. 12. And the tribes of Israel sent men through all the tribe of Benjamin, saying, What wickedness is this that is done among you [even Benjamin had a chance of self-defence]? 13. Now therefore deliver us the men, the children of Belial, which are in Gibeah, that we may put them to death, and put away evil from Israel. [The verb implies extermination, such as the burning out of diseased flesh.] But the children of Benjamin would not hearken to the voice of their brethren the children of Israel [an evil solidarity]: 14. But [and] the children of Benjamin gathered themselves together out of the cities unto Gibeah, to go out to battle against the children of Israel: 15. And the children of Benjamin were numbered at that time out of the cities twenty and six thousand men [diminished by about a third since the census] that drew sword, beside the inhabitants of Gibeah, which numbered seven hundred chosen men. 16. Among all this people there were seven hundred chosen men [these words are omitted by the LXX. and the Vulgate] left-handed [not an accidental defect, but an acquired art]; every one could sling stones at an hair breadth, and not miss [Cyrus valued his four hundred slingers]. 17. And the men of Israel, beside Benjamin, were numbered four hundred thousand men that drew sword: all these were men of war. 18. And the children of Israel arose, and went up to the house of God [Bethel], and asked counsel of God [by the Urim and Thummim], and said, Which of us shall go up first to the battle against the children of Benjamin? And the Lord said, Judah shall go up first. 19. And the children of Israel rose up in the morning, and encamped against Gibeah. 20. And the men of Israel went out to battle against Benjamin; and the men of Israel put themselves in array to fight against them at Gibeah. 21. And the children of Benjamin came forth out of Gibeah [the whole tribe adopted the bad deed,— an evil esprit de corps], and destroyed down to the ground of the Israelites that day twenty and two thousand men. 22. And the people, the men of Israel, encouraged themselves, and set their battle again in array in the place where they put themselves in array the first day. 23. (And the children of Israel went up and wept before the Lord until even, and asked counsel of the Lord, saying, Shall I go up again to battle against the children of Benjamin my brother? ["showing a sort of compunction"] and the Lord said, Go up against him.) 24. And the children of Israel came near against the children of Benjamin the second day. 25. And Benjamin went forth against them out of Gibeah the second day, and destroyed down to the ground of the children of Israel again eighteen thousand men; all these drew the sword. 26. Then all the children of Israel, and all the people, went up, and came unto the house of God, and wept ["The two battles must have caused an almost universal bereavement"], and sat there before the Lord, and fasted that day until even, and offered burnt-offerings and peace-offerings before the Lord. 27. And the children of Israel enquired of the Lord, (for the ark of the covenant of God was there in those days; 28. And Phinehas [the noble and heroic grandson of Aaron], the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, stood before it in those days,) saying, Shall I yet again go out to battle against the children of Benjamin my brother, or shall I cease? And the Lord said, Go up; for to-morrow [the first promise of success] I will deliver them into thine hand. 29. And Israel set liers in wait round about Gibeah ["acting with more humility, caution, and wisdom"]. 30. And the children of Israel went up against the children of Benjamin on the third day, and put themselves in array against Gibeah, as at other times. 31. And the children of Benjamin went out against the people, and were drawn away from the city; and they began to smite of the people, and kill [the wounded or beaten of the people], as at other times, in the highways, of which one goeth up to the house of God [Bethel], and the other to Gibeah in the field [probably Geba, Joshua 21:17], about thirty men of Israel. 32. And the children of Benjamin said, They are smitten down before us, as at the first. But the children of Israel said, Let us flee, and draw them from the city unto the highways. 33. And all the men of Israel rose up out of their place, and put themselves in array at Baal-tamar [Lord of the palm]: and the liers in wait of Israel came forth out of their places, even out of the meadows [a word which occurs nowhere else] of Gibeah. 34. And there came against Gibeah ten thousand chosen men out of all Israel, and the battle was sore [Benjamin was attacked both in front and rear]: but [and] they knew not that evil was near them [that the hour of ruin had come], 35. And the Lord smote Benjamin before Israel: and the children of Israel destroyed of the Benjamites that clay twenty and five thousand and an hundred men: all these drew the sword. 36. So the children of Benjamin saw that they [the Israelites] were smitten: for the men of Israel gave place to the Benjamites, because they trusted unto the liers in wait which they had set beside Gibeah. 37. And the liers in wait hasted, and rushed [set upon; see Judges 9:33] upon Gibeah; and the liers in wait drew themselves along, and smote all the city with the edge of the sword [an expression which denotes extermination]. 38. Now there was an appointed sign between the men of Israel and the liers in wait, that they should make a great flame with smoke rise up out of the city 39. And when the men of Israel retired in the battle, Benjamin began to smite and kill of the men of Israel about thirty persons: for they said, Surely they are smitten down before us, as in the first battle. 40. But when the flame began to arise up out of the city with a pillar of smoke, the Benjamites looked behind them, and, behold, the flame of the city ascended up to heaven. 41. And when the men of Israel turned again, the men of Benjamin were amazed: for they saw that evil was come upon them. 42. Therefore they turned their backs before the men of Israel unto the way of the wilderness; but the battle overtook them; and them which came out of the cities [Benjamites] they destroyed in the midst of them [that is, in their own cities]. 43. Thus they inclosed the Benjamites round about, and chased them, and trode them down with ease over against Gibeah toward the sunrising. ["The language and construction of this verse is poetical; it seems to be an extract from a song, and to describe, in the language of poetry, the same event which the preceding verse described in that of prose."] 44. And there fell of Benjamin eighteen thousand men; all these were men of valour. 45. And they turned and fled toward the wilderness unto the rock of Rimmon [the rock of the pomegranate]; and they gleaned of them in the highways five thousand men; and pursued hard after them unto Gidom [mentioned nowhere else], and slew two thousand men of them. 46. So that all which fell that day of Benjamin were twenty and five thousand men that drew the sword; all these were men of valour. 47. But six hundred men [compare 1 Samuel 14:2] turned and fled to the wilderness unto the rock Rimmon, and abode in the rock Rimmon four months. 48. And the men of Israel turned again upon the children of Benjamin, and smote them with the edge of the sword, as well the men of every city, as the beast, and all that came to hand: also they set on fire all the cities that they came to. "Having utterly destroyed the Benjamite army, except the six hundred men who were shut up in Rimmon, the Israelites returned through the Benjamite country and put to death all the remaining inhabitants, destroyed the cattle and burnt the cities" (The Speaker's Commentary). Keeping the whole tragedy vividly in mind, we shall the more profitably enter upon the study of the following subject. "Handfuls of Purpose" For All Gleaners"Tell us how was this wickedness? "—Judges 20:3. We should not shrink from scrutinising evil, and asking it piercing questions as to its origin and cause.— We cannot deal with wickedness until we have got at its roots.— Evil is not an accident which is found upon the surface, varying with the climate and the light; it is a disease of the heart, and only a heart-cure can utterly extirpate the evil and restore health to the whole man.— Men who cannot conduct a great philosophical inquiry as to the origin of evil may conduct a very searching scrutiny into their own questionable or wicked actions.— "How was this wickedness?" Was it because of a desire to fulfil a selfish ambition?— Was it done in order to quench a fiery appetite?— Was it done suddenly, in a moment of madness, or after long consideration and ample preparation?— Was it one of the sudden blasts which seize the soul without notice?— Or did we roll the iniquity under our tongue as a sweet morsel and enjoy the wickedness long in advance?— Sometimes it will do the soul good to tell the tale of its wickedness to friendly inquirers.— There is a sense in which confession even by man to man may do the soul great good.— The confession must not be made in any sacerdotal sense, as if man had power to forgive sin, but it must be told to force the soul itself into contrition, shame, self-renunciation, and to constitute a kind of judgment outside itself which it may continually fear.— It is possible by this kind of confession to create a species of criticism on the part of others which may hold us in restraint in days to come.— The great thought is that we are not to cover up wickedness, or lessen it, or decorate it, or excuse it; we are to tell the plain and shameful tale straight out from end to end, that we may know how the disease is to be treated.— "If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts." The Gospel tells us that there is a Man who receiveth sinners. His name is Jesus Christ. No man ever came to him with broken-hearted desire to repent of his sin and abandon it who was turned away with one word or look of discouragement. One Tribe Lacking Judges 21:3THE spirit of this inquiry is the spirit of the whole Bible. It is, indeed, not so much an inquiry as a wail, a burst of sorrow, a very agony of kinship and disunion. The three-fold repetition of "Israel" indicates supreme distress. Israel was meant to be a unity— a constitution not only complete but inviolable— foursquare, without break or flaw, vital at every point— a noble integrity! And now Benjamin is threatened with extinction: Benjamin is not in the house of God. From the beginning, Benjamin was but a little tribe, the least of all in Israel, numbering at first from thirty to forty thousand fighting men. Over an extremely difficult and delicate question Benjamin came into conflict with the rest of Israel, and after an almost superhuman resistance was overborne, all but extirpated indeed, only some six hundred men being left, and they hiding themselves in the rock Rimmon— the impregnable Rock of the Pomegranate— some four months, thinking of the eighteen thousand men of valour who had been "trodden down with ease over against Gibeah toward the sunrising." But there was a time of heart-breaking in Israel. In the battlefield men thought only of victory, but they went up unto what is called in the text "the house of God." That is the right point of observation. Until you have looked at your fellow creatures from the house of God, from the altar, from the cross, you have never looked at them. Israel was now in the house of God, and began to reckon, to say, Who is here? Who is not here? Then they sighed, and shed tears, as only strong men can shed them, and in their tears they said, "O Lord God of Israel, why is this come to pass in Israel, that there should be to day one tribe lacking in Israel?" Thus men come to their better selves; heat dies away, vengeance halts in its desperate pursuit, all deepest and truest instincts come to the support of reason, natural affection stands by the side of justice, and great questions are quieted by great answers. Does not the text exhibit the human aspect of the solicitude of God's own heart? In this respect, as well as in other ways, is not man made a little lower than God? In all such emotion there are suggestions infinite in scope and tenderness— suggestions of unity, family completeness, absolute unselfishness, redemption, forgiveness, reconstruction, everlasting joy! There is of course a sentiment which is without value, but this must not blind us to the fact that there is also an emotion without which we cannot sound the depths of God's own love. When we feel most truly, we often see most clearly. "Where art thou?" was the inquiry of God when Adam did not come towards him in the fearless joy of innocence. "Where is thy brother?" was the divine inquiry when Cain was found in criminal loneliness. Rather than Israel should be lost Moses would be blotted out of God's book. Christ came to seek and to save the lost And Paul— that marvellous compound of Moses and Christ— honouring the majesty of the law, yet feeling its weakness in the presence of sin— did he not tremble under the same emotion? The answer will be found in the most doctrinal and logical, yet the most profoundly emotional of all his Epistles. In the Epistle to the Romans not only is one tribe threatened with extinction, but all Israel seems to be lost. The writer cannot rest, therefore. He has "great heaviness and continual sorrow in his heart." It is not enough for him that the forces of the Gentiles are moving towards the Cross, that from Midian, and Ephah, and Sheba men are arising to show forth the praises of the Lord; nor is it enough that the flocks of Kedar and the rams of Nebaioth shall be acceptable sacrifices: all this is good, beautiful, and an exceeding delight, but— but Israel is, not in the number of those who rejoice, Israel is hard of heart, and remembering this Paul says, "I could wish that myself were anathema from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh." "My heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved." It was a sublime emotion. But who is the speaker? Take his own account of himself— "Of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin"— the very tribe which in the text is lacking! Thus history rolls round in amplified and ennobled repetition. In the Book of Judges all Israel mourned that Benjamin was lacking, and in the Epistle to the Romans, Benjamin, in the person of its most illustrious descendant, laments that all Israel is away— far off in the wilderness of unbelief— he an alien who ought to have been a prince in the house of God. Nor does the evidence of the presence of this emotion in the Bible end here. In the Apocalypse there is One— "faithful and true Witness, the beginning of the creation of God," and he says, "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in;" the same who said, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not!" the same who went after the lost sheep of the house of Israel; the same who said, "Preach the Gospel to every creature," for good news must evermore do good. There is, then, what may be called a distinct unity of emotion, call it pity, solicitude, compassion, or by any equal term, throughout the whole Bible. The Bible varies a good deal in historical and even in moral colour, but it never varies in pity, and love, and mercy. From the first, God loved man, even with atoning and redeeming love. Marvellous, truly and instructively, is the development of Biblical history. It changes page by page— now barbarous, now gentle, here an altar, there a commandment, yonder a ritual, and afar off an experience full of confusion, and riot, and tragedy: but in all the infinite tumult God looks after the wanderer with longing love, pursues him, pleads with him, says "Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?" importunes him: "Cries,— How shall I give thee up? Lets the lifted thunder drop." Even divine righteousness varies its aspects without varying its nature; in some sense it measures its demands by human weakness: now it is an order for a place or a time; then it is a series of initial and suggestive commandments; then it is an accommodation to hardness of heart,— never losing a ray of its eternal glory, it yet creates an atmosphere suited to the vision of the beholder;— but love, pity, mercy, care for the absent, wonder about the one lacking tribe,— this begins the book, ends the book stirs the book like the throb of an infinite heart. The love of God, the mercy, the pity, the compassion of God is not a revelation of the New Testament only, it is the revelation of the whole Bible. In Eden there was a Promised Seed; in the wilderness there was a mercy-seat; in Genesis there is a covenant; in Malachi there is a book of remembrance; in Exodus the Lord keeps mercy for thousands, and forgives iniquity, and transgression, and sin; in Numbers "the Lord is longsuffering and of great mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression;" in Judges "the Lord was grieved for the misery of Israel;" in Samuel he recalled the avenging angel; in Chronicles (a book of annals) he says, if his people will seek his face and turn from their wicked ways, he will hear them from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and heal their land; the Psalms are songs of forgiveness; Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel are books glowing with the love of God; and Daniel says, "To the Lord our God belong mercies and forgiveness, though we have rebelled against him;" in Hosea, God heals the backsliding of his people, and loves them freely; even Joel— that burning furnace— says that God is gracious and merciful; Jonah, in solemn anger, says he knew that God was "a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness;" and all the minor prophets praise the tenderness of God. So we find that this pity, compassion, mercy— by whatever name we call the emotion— is present from the beginning to the end of the Old Testament. Paul was the most Old Testament writer in all the New Testament. When he speaks of God being rich in mercy, good, forbearing, longsuffering, Paul is in very deed a Hebrew of the Hebrews, of the tribe of Benjamin. When the Jews at Jerusalem heard that Paul spake unto them in the Hebrew tongue they kept the more silence. We ought to do the same; for we have understood that Paul was the Apostle of the Gentiles, that his place was far off among the heathen, that special grace was given unto him that he should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and at the very time he was preaching in Syria and Cilicia he was unknown by face unto the Churches of Judea which were in Christ. Yet this man, consecrated to preach in Gentile tongues, spake in the Hebrew tongue. Why? He missed his own people. He thought that the mother-tongue might fetch some of them. His heart was ill at ease. But was not the Hebrew tongue doubly dear to Paul? Surely. For when he, as Saul, was fallen to the earth as he went to Damascus, he heard a voice speaking to him "in the Hebrew tongue, saying,... I am Jesus." So it was the mother-tongue of his Christian life. It suited the great gospel better than any other language: what other could speak with such unction of "blood"? Any other tongue would make it vulgar— a measurable thing: but in the Hebrew it was lifted up into symbolism and grandeur. "Sacrifice," "redemption," "propitiation," "pardon,"— why, how could he speak in any other than the Hebrew tongue? Thus the Apostle of the Gentiles is also the Apostle of the Jews: the foreign missionary is the home missionary, and the home missionary is the foreign missionary, for it was the whole world that God thought of when he freely delivered up his Son for us all. Paul knew nothing of an Israel reduced to eleven tribes; speaking to Agrippa, he said, with a wonderfully suppressed pathos, "Our twelve tribes"; Paul knew nothing of a broken household, he knew only of the whole family in heaven and on earth: Paul knew nothing of an exclusive gospel; when he witnessed he witnessed "both to small and great." And James— a mind without poetry, a church without a spire— wrote his letter to the full number of the tribes, "The twelve tribes," said he— still twelve, though "scattered abroad." Is it possible for a tribe to be "lacking" for ever? To become extinct? To lose its election and be damned? Where, for example, is the tribe of Dan? It disappears from the record in 1 Chronicles, and it is not counted in the Apocalypse. Were its few faithful members amalgamated with some other tribe, say this very tribe of Benjamin? Yet even in the Apocalypse, the number of the tribes is twelve. God's promise shall stand sure and steadfast, and his supper chamber shall be filled with guests! We may be unfaithful, and may lose our place, but the Blessed One who died for us shall see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied! From another point of view we shall see that this yearning over the lacking tribe was no mere sentiment. This high feeling had also a disciplinary aspect, and was, therefore, a whole feeling— a complete and ardent loyalty. When Deborah sang her triumphal song she disclosed the second and sterner aspect of this emotion. She knew who was lacking from the war against Jabin King of Hazor, and did not scruple to mention by name the guilty absentees. Why should there have been, said that mother heart, one tribe lacking on that day of war? Reuben remained among the sheepfolds, and listened to the bleatings of the flocks, when he ought to have answered the call of the battle horn and repulsed the chariots of Sisera; and Deborah named him: "For the divisions of Reuben there were great thoughts of heart; for the divisions of Reuben there were great searchings of heart." Why was he lacking that day? He sent promises, but remained at home. He was busy amongst the flocks when he ought to have been suffering with the army! Oh, these prior engagements! these other occupations! these domestic excuses! They went for nothing in the tempest of Deborah's enthusiasm, and they ought to stand for nothing in our consuming zeal for the honour of our Lord and the dominion of his cross. Nor was Reuben the only absentee. Gilead abode beyond Jordan, Dan was concealed in ships, and Asher— are we not ashamed to say it?— peeped in cowardly curiosity from behind the creeks, and wondered how the war was going on. Yet the battle was won. No credit to the absentees. Where men failed women succeeded: whilst "Zebulun and Naphtali jeoparded their lives unto the death in the high places of the field," Deborah and Jael made their names great in Israel. You may keep away from the war, but the battle will end in victory. There is another variety of the principle of the text which cannot be wisely overlooked. There is a lacking or absence which affects great indignation because it has not been observed. Men stand back for a space that they may see whether they will be missed. Others come in after the victory and demand to know why they were not allowed to share in the fight! Let history be our proof. We stand or fall by facts in an argument like this. When Gideon overthrew the Midianites, and held in one hand the head of Prince Oreb, and in the other the head of Prince Zeeb, the Ephraimites chided him sharply because they had not been sent fur. This was a trick of Ephraim— a trick he dearly paid for when he tried it upon Jephthah. "Wherefore," said Ephraim to Jephthah, "passedst thou over to fight against the children of Ammon, and didst not call us to go with thee?" Jephthah told them why. He reminded them that once he did send for them and they did not come, and now that they began to chide him the Spirit of the Lord and of true judgment burned in him, and that day he choked the passages of the Jordan with forty-two thousand Ephraimites. Ephraim was a coward. Ephraim is a branded name. For ever will it be said of him, "Ephraim being armed and carrying bows turned back in the day of battle." Ephraim was famous for archery. Ephraim might have done wonders with bow and arrow, but he turned back, and then blamed others because he was not sent for! Is it so with any who may smile at Ephraim's cowardice? Are there not those who would have done wonderful things if they had known of the opportunity? They knew not when Christ was an hungered, or athirst, or naked, or sick, or in prison, or they would have given unto him: they say so, but— "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." So the text taken in all its aspects is no mere sentiment. In presence of some gaps in the line of Israel the tears of the text become sparks of fire, because of the treachery of some and the cowardice of others. We have forgotten that Christianity is a battle as well as a gospel. Is the whole fighting strength of the Church under discipline? Are any skulking at home? Are any enjoying the delights of civilisation who ought to be in the wilderness of heathenism; nay, come closer still; are any sitting in luxury and idleness who ought to be in some department of Christian service— say in the Sunday-school, in the diaconate, in districts inhabited by poverty and ignorance? Why should there be this day one tribe lacking in Christian Israel? There is a tremendous foe. We are all needed. There is room for all— for wealth, for genius, for learning, for love, for age, for youth. Come! Surrender yourselves to Christ! Be soldiers of the Cross! But here a word of consolation may be fitly given. Some are no longer in the hot battle, yet they must not be thought of as absent or lacking from the household of God. Even the mighty David "waxed faint." He was but seventy when he died. Yet when we say "but seventy" do we not speak carelessly? What a seventy! what years they were! When he tottered under his weakness, in one of the closing battles, he nearly fell. A Philistine, Ishbibenob by name, had a new sword, and he was heavy upon the king, for the king was no longer what he used to be. The Philistine pressed hard upon him— upon him who slew the lion and the bear and the giant of Gath— upon him who made Jerusalem rich with the golden shields of Hadadezer. But he was getting old; he was but poor at last in the stroke of the sword; then came his loyal captains and said, so sweetly, with heart-breaking pathos, "Thou shalt go no more out with us to battle, that thou quench not the light of Israel." David had fought enough; the shades of eventide were gathering around him; he had been a great warrior, but it was time he retired from the field. May not this also be the experience of many? After a long fight they stand aside, but, blessed be God, they are not "lacking." They have retired from the pastorate, from the public office, from the battlefield generally, but we do not mourn over them as Deborah mourned over Reuben and Gilead and Dan and Asher. They are not willingly absent. The old feeling again stirs in them. They sometimes think they could go back and fight just as well and as successfully as ever, and could preach just as richly and effectively and reverently as they ever did. They are not in the battlefield, but they are not lacking from the hosts of God; the light of their example abides, and their remembered service is a perpetual and gracious inspiration. The text is full of tender feeling, showing itself in anxiety about the absent, though the absent one was both insignificant and ill-behaved. This anxiety is, we know, the very spirit of the whole Bible. It is the Spirit of Christ. It is the explanation of the cross. Remembering all this, we venture to say that this feeling— this feeling of profound and anxious emotion—alone can sustain constantly and worthily all Christian and missionary service. When we lose this sacred feeling we lose our inspiration. When we cease to care for others, to long for the absent, to yearn over the poor and the out-of-the-way, our Christianity can live no longer. All Christian funds will languish when Christian feeling dies. Let us speak to ourselves plainly upon this matter. Many professing Christians are learned, controversial, orthodox in words, and idolaters of propriety: but where is the feeling which cannot rest until the lacking tribe is brought back? The preacher may do more by his tears than by mere dry reasoning. Only love, like God's, like Christ's, can persist in unselfish service— observe, persist, keep on, press forward, forgive injuries, forget neglects, begin again, stand at the door and knock, never give up, keep the door ajar for the prodigal, set a candle in the window for the wanderer,— only love can do these miracles: the mother can watch longer than the doctor: the shepherd will endure better than the hireling: pity will spare where law will destroy. What is it that is troubled on every side yet not distressed, perplexed yet not in despair, persecuted but not forsaken, cast down but not destroyed? What is it? It is the faith that works by love! Why continue in the ministry and prove it in much patience, in afflictions, in distress, in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in fastings— why? "The love of Christ constraineth us." That is the eternal motive, or the motive which alone can endure to eternity. Macaulay has well reminded us of Lord Bacon's just observation that mere negation, mere epicurean infidelity, has never disturbed the peace of the world. "It furnishes," says he, "no motive for action. It has no missionaries, no crusaders, no martyrs." When Christian institutions lose their feeling they become but useless and costly machines. But, it may be urged, the feeling of the text was a feeling expressive of kinship, a family feeling, an esprit de corps. What argument can be built upon a domestic or tribal instinct? The question is out of place. Happily the answer is ready. The Christian conception of human nature is that it is one. "God hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face of the earth." The question of Malachi, "Have we not all one Father? hath not God created us?" we answer in the words of Christ— "Our Father which art in heaven." There are supreme moments in human experience; they cannot be long-continued, but what a memory they leave behind!— moments when we realise the unity of the human race, saying, "There is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him." Man is one: for God is one. A traveller in his book on tropical South Africa tells us of a tribe called the Damaras, who have no knowledge of arithmetic, enumeration, or numbers, as we understand them. He gives many amusing instances illustrative of this lack of what may be called numerical knowledge. But amidst all he says, "how does the herdsman know when an ox is missing, when he looks upon the herd under the shadows of evening? He knows not because the number is less, but because of a face which he misses." Oh, that shepherdly look! The man says, "There is one lacking." Then the face is painted before the eye of his imagination. We are not numbers in an hostelry; we are not figures in an arithmetical series; we are faces, lives, souls, spirits, sons of God. What wonder if sometimes even in heaven the question should be asked, Why is there one face missing? Why is David's place empty? We now reach the final and most pathetic point, namely, that there may be some who are saying in their hearts, not being able to say it aloud because of grief, Why is my child lacking from the Church? Why is my son not by my side at holy Sacrament? Why has my firstborn left his old father's faith and gone away? Oh, why? Be encouraged. He may return. He may come back today or to-morrow. Never give up your prayer. It is very hard to pray again after praying for years, and to mention a name that never seems to get into heaven; and the poor old heart gives way and says, "I cannot pray any longer about this: I am killed by the prodigal's very name: I will cease." Never! Hold on! After the next prayer there may be a sign in heaven— very small, but still a sign and a beginning. Sorrow may bring back the wanderer. God's veiled angel called Affliction may some night knock at the door and say, "I have brought back that which was lost." Great commercial distress may do it; an utter annihilation of the young man's foolish ambitions may do it. God hath many ministers. His chariots are twenty thousand, and who shall say in which he will go forth, in the morning, at midday, or in the evening? Hope on then. One more prayer— the greatest, the best, the fullest of heart— almost an atonement, going nigh to the shedding of sacrificial blood. Do not despair. It may be that even yet you shall have the joy of completeness:—