Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · May 21, 1861
SELF-EXAMINATION.
SELF-EXAMINATION is a work of great difficulty, and is accordingly shrunk from, or altogether declined by the great body of professing Christians. It is more the habitual style of the mind's contemplations to look at that which is without, than at that which is within; and it is far easier to read the epistles of the written record than to read the tablets of one's own heart, and so to ascertain whether it be indeed a living epistle of Christ Jesus our Lord. There is something so shadowy and evanescent in the phases of the human spirit—such a want of the distinct and of the tangible, in its various characteristics—such a turmoil, and confusion, and apparent incoherence in the rapid succession of those thoughts, and impulses, and emotions which find their way through the avenues of the inner man—that men as if lost in the mazes of a labyrinth, deem the world which is within to be the most hopeless and impracticable of all mysteries—nor in the whole range of their varied speculations, do they meet with that which more baffles their endeavors to seize upon, than the busy principle that is lodged within them, and has taken up its residence in the familiar intimacies of their own bosom.
The difficulty of knowing our own heart is much enhanced if we are in quest of some character or some lineament which is but faithfully engraven thereupon. When the thing that we are seeking for is so very dim, or so very minute as to be almost indiscernible, this makes it a far more fatiguing exercise; and, it may be, an altogether fruitless one. Should then the features of our personal christianity be yet slightly or obscurely formed, it will need a more intense and laborious scrutiny ere we can possibly recognize them. Should there be a languor in our love to God—should there be a frailty in our purposes of obedience—should there be a trembling indecision of principle, and the weakness or the wavering of a mind that is scarcely made up on the question of a preference for time or for eternity, let us not marvel, though all disguised as these seeds and elements of regeneration within us may be, amid the vigorous struggles of the old man and the remaining urgencies of a nature which will not receive its death-blow, but with the same stroke that brings our bodies to the dust—let us not marvel, if, in these circumstances, the hardships of the search should deter many from undertaking it—and if, after months, or even years of earnestness in religion, the disciple may still be in ignorance of himself, as if blindfolded from the view of his own character; or if, arrested at the threshold by a sense of its many difficulties, the work of self-examination has not yet been entered on.
It is thus that the dark and unsearchable nature of the subject operates insensibly but powerfully as a restraint on self-examination; and certainly there would be encouragement felt to begin this exercise were it made to appear in the light of a more practicable exercise, that could really and successfully be gone through. It just like being set upon the task of searching for some minute article on the floor of an apartment, of which the window had been partially closed—a weary and hopeless undertaking, till the sun has fully arisen, and the shutters have been altogether unfolded, and the greatest possible supply of light has been admitted into the room. Then the search might be entered upon with vigor, and just because now it could be entered upon with the alacrity of a comfortable expectation. The work is less repulsive because easier—and now might the whole surface of this trial for a discovery be patiently explored, just because now a greater visibility had been poured over it.
This leads to a remark, which though a mere preliminary to the subject of self-examination, we nevertheless deem to be of great practical importance. We think that however inscrutable at this moment our mind may be, and however faintly the marks and the characteristics of our christianity are delineated thereupon, yet that even now the inward survey ought to be commenced, and renewed at frequent intervals, and daily persevered in. But meanwhile, and to facilitate the search, we should do the very thing that is done in the case of a dark apartment. There should be as much light as possible thrown upon the subject from without. If the lineaments of grace within us be faint, that ought instantly to be done which might have the effect of brightening them into a more lucid distinctness, and so making the work of discovery easier than before. If the love, and the joy, and the grateful devotedness to his Saviour's will, wherewith the heart of a believer is animated, be hardly discernible in his efforts to ascertain them, this is the very reason why all those direct expedients should forthwith be resorted to for stirring up the love and for exciting the joy, and for fixing in the bosom that grateful devotedness which he is now going so fruitlessly in quest of, and which, if they exist at all, are so shrunken in magnitude, or so enveloped in their own dimness, that they have hitherto eluded all his endeavors to seek after them, if haply he may find them. Now it is not by continuing to pore inwardly that we shall shed a greater lustre over the tablet of our own character, any more than we can enlighten the room in which we sit by the straining of our eyes towards the various articles which are therein distributed. In the one case we take help from the window, and through it from the sun of nature—and this not to supercede the proposed investigation on our part, but altogether to aid and encourage us in that investigation. And in the other case, that the eye of the mind may look with advantage upon itself, inwardly, it should often look outwardly to those luminaries which are suspended from the canopy of that revelation which is from above. We should throw widely open the portal of faith, and this is the way by which light is admitted into the chambers of experience. In defect of a manifest love, and a manifest loyalty, and a manifest sacredness of heart which we have been seeking for in vain amongst the ambiguities of the inner man, we should expose the whole of this mysterious territory to the influences of the sun of righteousness, and this is done by gazing upon him with a believer's eye. It is by regarding the love wherewith God in Christ hath loved us, that the before cold and sluggish heart is roused into the respondency of love back again. That the work of reading be made more easy, the character must be made more legible. That christianity be clearly reflected from our own bosom, all must be laid open to the christianity of the record. If we derive no good from the work of self-examination, because we find that all is confusion and mistiness within, then let us go forth upon the truths which are without, and these will pour a flood of light into all the mazes and intricacies of the soul, and at length render that work easy which before was impracticable. No doubt it is by looking inwardly that we discover what is in the mind—but it is by looking outwardly that we so brighten and bring out its characteristics, as to make these discernible. The gratitude that was before unfelt, because it lay dormant, let us awaken by the sight of him who was lifted upon the cross for our offences, and then will it meet the observation. The filial affection for our Father in heaven, which before was dead, let us quicken into a felt and gracious sensibility, by looking unto him in his revealed attitude of graciousness, and at our next exercise of self-inspection, we will be sure to find it. To revive the power of a life that is to come, which the despair of guilt had utterly extinguished in the soul, let us cast our believing regard on the promises of the gospel—and this will set it2up again, and then will we more readily ascertain that our happiness in time is less dear to us than our hopes for eternity.
It is thus that by the contemplation of that which is without we brighten the consciousness of that which is within; and the more manifest the things of revelation are to the eye of faith, the more manifest will the things of experience be to the eye of conscience—and the more distinctly we can view the epistles of Christ in the written record, the more discernible will its counterpart be in that epistle which is written not with pen and ink, but by the Spirit of God, on the fleshy tablets of our own hearts. And so the work of faith, instead of being proposed by us as a substitute, we should propose as the readiest help, and far the best preparative for the work of self-examination.
It were well, if thus we could compose the jealousy of those who deem it legal to go in quest of evidence; but better still, if we could guide the practice of those with whom the business of salvation forms a practical and not a merely theoretical or speculative question.
And first, we would say to them, that so far from setting faith aside by the work of self-examination, we hold that it is the former which supplies the latter with all its materials, and sheds that light over them which makes them visible to the eye of consciousness. Were there no faith, there would be no fruits to inquire after; and it were utterly in vain to go a seeking where there was absolutely nothing to find. To a sinner in distress, we unfold the pardon of the gospel; and we bid him look unto Jesus that he may rejoice. We surely could not say less than this to an inquirer in darkness, even though it be a darkness that has gathered and rests over the tablet of his own character, and hides from his own view all that is good and gracious thereupon. Should the eye fail of its discernment when turned inwardly upon the evidences, we should bid it turn outwardly upon the promises, and this is the way to bring down a clear and satisfying light upon the soul. Just as in some minute and difficult search over the floor of an apartment, we throw open all its windows to the sun of nature, so we ought by faith to throw open all the chambers of the inner man to the light of the sun of righteousness. It is the truths that are without, which give rise to the traces of a spiritual workmanship within; and the indistinctness of the latter is just the reason why the soul should be ever aiming by attention and belief at a communication with the former. When self-examination is at a loss to read the characters which are written upon the heart, it is faith alone which can make the inscription more legible; and never will man get acquainted with the home of his own bosom but by constant supplies of light and influence from abroad. If we feel, then, an outset of difficulty in the work of self-examination, let us go anew to the fountain-head of revelation, and there warm into a sensibility that may be felt, the cold and the faded lineaments of that image which it is the genuine tendency of the truth as it is in Jesus to impress upon the soul. That we may prosper when we examine ourselves, whether we are in the faith, we should have the faith. We should keep it in daily and habitual exercise, and this will strengthen it. If we be familiar with the truths that are without, less will be our difficulty in recognizing the traces that are within. The more we gaze upon the radiance, the brighter will we glow with the reflection; and so far from opposition in the exercises of self-examination and of faith, there is the most necessary concert, the most important and beautiful harmony.
But secondly, whatever difficulties there are in self-examination, we should even now make a beginning of the work. We should at least try it; and if we do not succeed, repeat it again and again. We should set ourselves formally down to it as we would to the prescribed task; and it were well too if we had a prescribed time every day for the doing of it and let a whole month of honest and sustained perseverance pass over our heads, ere we say of the work that it is impracticable.
The more we live a life of faith through the day, the more distinct and legible will be that other page in the record of our personal history, which we shall have to peruse in the evening; and however little we may have sped at this trial of self-examination, we will either be encouraged or rebuked by it into a life of greater effort and watchfulness in the morrow. In the business of each day there will be a reference to the account and settlement that we make at the end of it; and the conclusion of each night will serve either to rectify the errors of our preceding history, or to animate us the more in that path by which we are moving sensibly onward to the heights of moral and spiritual excellence. Thus indeed will we make a business of our sanctification; and instead of that vague, and shadowy, and altogether chimerical affair which we apprehend to be the religion of many a professor in our day, will it become a matter of solid and practical acquisitions, each of which shall have a visible reality in time, and each of which, by adding to the treasure in heaven, will have a distinct bearing on the interests of eternity.
Now, when we set about any new exercise whatever, we first begin with that which is easy, and afterwards proceed therefrom to that which is more arduous. In the work of self-examination, there is a scale of difficulty; and it were well perhaps that we should make our first entrance upon the work at some of its lower gradations, lest we begin our attempt at too high a place and be repelled altogether by finding that it is utterly inaccessible.
To guide us aright, then, in this matter, we might observe that the overt acts of our visible history, are far more noticeable by the eye of self-examination than those affections of the heart by which they have been prompted; and therefore, if not yet able to read the devices of the inner man, let our first attempt be to read the doings of the outer man. "Hereby know we that we know him, if we keep his commandments." This is a palpable test, in as far, at least, as the hand, or the mouth, or the footsteps, or any of the bodily organs, are concerned; and a series of questions regarding these were a good elementary introduction to the work of self-examination: Have we, throughout the whole course of this day, uttered the language of profaneness, or contempt, or calumny? Or have we said any of those foolish things which might be ranked among the idle words of which men shall give account on the day of judgment? Or have we expressed ourselves to any of our fellows in a tone of fretfulness or irritation? Or have we on Sabbath refrained our attendance on the public ministrations, and instead of the readings and the contemplations, and the devout exercises of sacredness, have we given any time to the business and society of the world? Or have we been guilty of disrespect and negligence towards parents and masters, and superiors of any kind? Or have we done any acts of mischief and revenge to the man whom we hate? Or have we wilfully directed our eye to that which was fitted to kindle the affections, or lead to the purposes of licentiousness? Or have we put forth a hand of violence on the property of our neighbor; and what is an offence of the same species, have we taken an undue advantage of him in the petty contests and negotiations of the exchange, or of the market-place? Or have we spoken, if not a direct falsehood, at least a cunningly devised utterance, which by the tone, and manner, and apparent artlessness of it was calculated to deceive? Or have we gone to any of the excesses of intemperance, whether of that drunkenness which infuriates the faculties, or of that surfeiting which damps and overweighs them? And what this day have been our deeds of beneficence—what our attentions of kindness and charity—what our efforts or our sacrifices in the walk of christian usefulness—what our almsgiving to the poor—what our labors of piety, either among the habitations of ignorance, or with the members of our own family? These are all matters that stand broadly and discernedly out to the eye of consciousness.
They form what may be called the large and legible types on the tablet of self-examination. They form, as it were, the primer or the alphabet of the most important branch of scholarship. It is as easy for us to frame a catalogue of these questions, and sit regularly down every evening to the task of applying them in succession to our recent history, and meet them with as prompt and clear a reply as it is for us to tell at the end of each day what were the visits that we performed, or the people whom we have conversed with, or the walks that we have taken, or the bargains that we have concluded. There is nothing of reconditeness or mystery whatever in this process, at least, of self-examination; and by entering immediately upon it, we may at length be qualified for those more profound exercises by which the intimacies of the heart are probed; and be able to arrive at a finding, and a familiarity with the now hidden depths of a spiritual experience.
There is much to be gathered even from this more rude and elementary process of self-examination. "By their fruits ye shall know them," says our Saviour; and after all much may be learned of the real character of our affections, by the acts in which they terminate. In natural husbandry, one may judge of the vegetation from the crop. It is not indispensable that we dive into the secrets of physiology, or that we be skilled in the anatomy and organization of plants, or that, with the eye of direct observation, we can satisfy ourselves as to the soundness of the root, or the healthful circulation of the juices which ascend from it. There is no doubt that a good internal economy forms the very essence of vegetable health; and yet how many an agriculturist from whom this essence lies hid in the deepest mystery, can pronounce upon that which is spread visibly before him, that there has indeed been a grateful and prosperous return for his labors. He knows that there has been a good and abundant growth, though in the language of the gospel parable, whose design is to illustrate this very thing, he "knoweth not how." And so, to a great extent, of spiritual husbandry. One may be profoundly ignorant of moral science; he may not be able to grope his way through the arcana of the inner man. There might not be a more inscrutable thing to him in nature than the mystery of his own spirit, and not a darker or more impenetrable chaos than that heart which ever teemeth with the abundance of its own thoughts and its own counsels; yet from the abundance of that heart the mouth speaketh; and words are audible things—and out of that heart are the issues of life; and the deeds of our life or history are visible things—and as the heart prompteth so the hand performeth; and thus a legible expression is sent forth, even from the depths of an else unsearchable cavern, which we at least have never entered, either to sound its recesses, or to read the characters that are graven within its secret chambers of imagery. If we cannot go profoundly to work let us go to it plainly. If the fountain be hid let us take cognizance of the stream that issueth from the outlets. If we cannot guage the designs, let us at least institute a questionary process upon the doings; and if we have wearied ourselves in vain at searching for the marks of grace upon the soul, let us remember that the body is its instrument and its vehicle, and we may at least examine ourselves as to all its movements of accordance with the ten commandments.
Let us therefore be in earnest in this work of self-examination, which is reputed to be of so much difficulty, and immediately do that which we can; and thus will we at length be qualified for doing that which we at present cannot. Let it be the task of every evening to review the palpable history of every day; and if we cannot dive into the heart, we may at least take cognizance of the handiwork. We may not yet be able to analyze the feelings which enter into the hidden life of obedience, but we can take account of the literalities of obedience.3The hasty utterance by which we wounded another's sensibilities, the pleasantries by which we enlivened a festive circle at the expense of some absent character; the tone of offence or imperiousness into which some domestic annoyance hath provoked us; the excess into which we have been betrayed amid the glee of merry companionship; the neglect of prayer and of the Bible into which we have once more been led by distaste, or indolence, or the urgency of this world's business; these, and many more, are surely noticeable things, which can be recalled by the memory, and rebuked by the moral sense of the most ordinary Christian; and which, if so dealt with at the close of any day, might give to the morrow's walk a greater care and a greater conscientiousness.
What we ought to do is to begin now the work of self-examination; we should now make a practical outset, and do forthwith all that our attainment and ability will let us; we should not despise the day of small things, not idly postpone the work of self-examination till a sense, and a spirit, and a subtlety, which we at present have not, shall come upon us as if by inspiration. If the inward motions be too faint and fugitive for us to apprehend, let us lay hold at least of the outward movements, and by a faithful retrospect and reformation of these will our senses at length be exercised to discern both the good and the evil. What we ought to chase away from the habit of the soul is a certain quietism of inert and inactive speculation, when lulled by the jingle of an unmeaning orthodoxy, it goeth not forth with its loins girded, as well as its lamp burning, and only dreams of a coming glory, and immortality, and honor, instead of seeking for them by a patient continuance in well doing. We ought earnestly to make a business of our christianity, and be diligent in doing that which our hand findeth to do; and if at present the mysteries of a deeper experience look so remote and inaccessible that we cannot apprehend them, let us at least question ourselves most strictly as to the doings of our ordinary path; and under the guidance of that Spirit whose office it is to reveal all truth, will we at length be disciplined for greater things than these.—Christian's Great Interest.
THE LORD IS AT HAND,
O sad world and weary! in fierce agitation
The wild waves of sorrow are ruffling thy breast;
Thy children, dismayed at thy great tribulation,
Can find on thy poor aged bosom no rest.
Athwart the racked earth, where perplexity reigneth,
The shadow of Time falls portentous and long;
And distant no more, lo! the "rest that remaineth"
Draws near with its loveliness, sunshine and song.
O scoffer! the dawn of the great retribution,
The Orient reddens! behold, and be dumb;
Creation, loud groaning, awaits restitution,
And sighs till the "times of refreshing" shall come.
Great God! in the day of thy dread revelation,
When heaven, amazed at thy brightness, shall flee,
When the light of thy smile on the heirs of salvation,
Like Love's blessed summer all cloudless shall be;
When earth from thy Majesty shrinketh affrighted,
And rocks to and fro, swathed in garments of flame;
And they who thy pleadings of mercy have slighted,
Are chased from thy presence in anguish and shame;
Among the great multitude, radiant in glory,
O grant us white-robed with our loved ones to stand!
Through ages unmeasured of bliss to adore thee,
Who purchased our home in the heavenly land.
IN what sense is a believer to be conformed to the image of Christ? A Christian is not to bear the image of Christ as a penny bears the superscription of the queen. That image is put there to make the coin current among men; but a penny is not the image of the queen, it is only stamped with it. There are some Christians who think that they have the seal of the Spirit upon them, the stamp of Christ's warranty, and they can claim to be accepted as Christians, because they imagine they have the seal of the Spirit and the stamp of Christ's warranty upon them. Now as the penny is not conformed after the image of the person whose face it bears, so much a man is not, by any pretended warranty he thinks he has, really conformed to the image of Christ. Nor, again, have they attained to a conformity to the image of Christ, who are content with a cold morality. The true believer, like Christ, casts aside pride, minds not toil, conquers his constitutional sloth, and like Christ is full of love, not the love which cants and whines, but the love which is true and honest, and which for love's sake dare not flatter, which dwells not in words, which is legible upon his very face, which rids him of his crabbed and stern visage, till that sevenfold visage of intolerance and bigotry is cast out of him, till he has a heart on which the name of the church is written, and a breast which bears the name of all the redeemed, as the High Priest bore the breastplate before the mercy-seat. And further, we always associate with the name of Christ not simply humility, and service, and love, but devotion and prayerfulness. We know that when he had ceased to preach he began to pray. When he had left the mountain side, which had been his pulpit, he went to another mountain which became his silent oratory.
The disciples might sleep, but not the Master. We can never be like the Master, till not only in public, but in private we are God's own; never till we know the power of knee-work, till we know how to struggle with strong crying and tears; never till our heart is ready to burst with a sacred agony, when we are wrestling with God—never till then shall we be conformed to the image of God's dear Son.
Ah, my brethren, I feel, in trying to describe what that image is, like one who handles the brush with a shaking, palsied hand, although he has the outlines of the most beauteous form sketched upon the canvass of the age to paint. Lo! I have daubed where I ought to have been skillful. I have but sought to paint one feature; but who among us can describe the whole? We can but gather up all thoughts and say, one man is admirable for his faith, another for his patience; one is distinguished for his courage and another for his affection; but He is altogether lovely! Christ is not mixed of many beauties, but he is all beauty put together.
But further, if we are ever conformed to Christ, we must bear his cross. Do you see him, Christian? He is despised and rejected of men. Do you see him passing through the midst of a crowd yelling and hooting at him? Men whom he had blessed are cursing him; lame men whom he had healed are using the power which he gave that they may run to scorn him; lips that had been dumb if he had not given them speech are venting blasphemies upon him, and he, the lovely one, forsaken of all, goes without the camp bearing his reproach. Do you see him, believer? The world counts him to be the offscouring of all things. It cries, "Away with him, away with him! It is not fit that he should live." It awards him a slave's death. See there an image of yourself, if you ever be conformed to his likeness; you must bear the cross of suffering; you must bear the shame and spitting of ungodly men.
And—blessed thought!—the believer is to be conformed to the image of the crowned one as well as of the crucified one. If we be cross bearers we shall be crown wearers. If the hand shall feel the nail it shall grasp the palm. If the foot shall be tightly fastened to the wood, it shall one day be girt with the sandals of immortal bliss.
Fear not, believer! It is necessary that you should first bear the image of the sorrowful, that you should afterwards bear the image of the glorious.—Spurgeon.
THE BROKEN BUCKLE.
By J. Hamilton
You have read in your own history of that hero, who, when an overwhelming force was in full pursuit, and all his followers were urging him to a more rapid flight, coolly dismounted in order to repair a flaw in his horse's harness. While busied with the broken buckle, the distant cloud swept down in nearer thunder; but just as the prancing hoofs and eager spears were ready to dash down upon him, the flaw was mended, and like a swooping falcon, he had vanished from their view. The broken buckle would have left him on the field a dismounted and inglorious prisoner; the timely delay sent him in safety back to his bustling comrads.
There is in daily life the same luckless precipitancy, and the same profitable delay. The man who, from his prayerless awakening, bounces into the business of the day, however good his talents and great his diligence, is only galloping upon a steed with a broken buckle, and must not marvel if, in his hottest race or most hazardous leap, he be left inglorious in the dust; and though it may occasion some little delay beforehand, his neighbor is wiser who sets all in order before the march begins.—Rev. J. Hamilton.
THE UNITY OF THE BIBLE.
As in Beethoven's matchless music there runs one idea, worked out through all the changes of measure and of key—now almost hidden, now breaking out in rich natural melody, whispered in the treble, murmured in the bass, dimly suggested in the prelude, but growing clearer and clearer as the work proceeds, winding gradually back, till it ends in the key in which it began, and closes in triumphant harmony; so throughout the whole Bible there runs one great idea—man's ruin by sin, and his redemption by grace—in a word, Jesus Christ the Saviour. This runs through the Old Testament, that prelude to the New, dimly promised at the fall, and more clearly to Abraham; typified in the ceremonies of the law; all the events of sacred history paving the way for his coming; his descent proved in the genealogies of Ruth and Chronicles; spoken of as Shiloh by Jacob, as the Star by Balaam, as Prophet by Moses; the David of the Psalms; the Redeemer looked for by Job; the Beloved of the Song of Songs. We find him in the sublime strains of the lofty Isaiah, in the writings of the tender Jeremiah, in the mysteries of the contemplative Ezekiel, in the visions of the beloved Daniel, the great idea growing clearer and clearer as the time drew on. Then the full harmony broke out in the song of the angels, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men.” And evangelists and apostles taking up the theme, the strain closes in the same key in which it began; the Devil, who troubled the first Paradise, forever excluded from the second; man restored to the favor of God, and Jesus Christ the key-note of the whole.—Evangelist.
A Touching Reply
A TOUCHING REPLY.—People are very apt to think and talk a great deal more about their afflictions than about their mercies; about what they have lost than what is still left to them. A minister, visiting the house of a widow, said to her little son, "My dear, you have no father now." The little fellow gave the following touching reply:
"No, I haven't got any father," and the tears began to start from his large blue eyes; "but," he added, with a smiling countenance, "I have got a mother though, and I've got a James and a William, and a 'Lizabeth and a Hannah," referring to his surviving parent, and brothers and sisters. Would, says the minister, that other children, and men and women also, were as reasonable and thoughtful as this little boy; and when some of their blessings were removed, would turn their grateful attention to remaining blessings innumerable which may still be enjoyed!
Jesus Died for the Ungodly
JESUS died for the ungodly; are you such? He died to bring them to God; is that where you are going?
ENTHUSIASM IN RELIGION.
WE need more of it, a hundredfold more than we have. Enthusiasm in science, in trade, in politics, we have plenty of; and all that is done for the advance of business and learning, is done by enthusiastic men.
The word needs to be guarded, but the prudent reader knows that enthusiasm is not fanaticism. The grandest subject in all the universe of God taking full possession of the soul, ought to fill it with intense emotion. It shall profit a man nothing to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul; and if we praise him who pursues business with so much industry and tact as to gain a million before he dies, shall we not much more admire the enthusiasm of him who gains heaven? Our friends, children, neighbors—we can do something to save them. If they were on a ship, wrecked off shore, or in a burning house, we would be enthusiastic to deliver them from death. May we not be enthusiastic in delivering them from hell?
The apostles were enthusiastic. The Saviour himself was filled with zeal. All the best men who have been mighty in pulling down error, or building up truth, have been enthusiastic. God grant that the church may rise and shake herself from the dust. It is a time to be up and doing. Let us work while it is day.
SHORT NOTES ON SCRIPTURE.
By Editor
ThERE are many passages of scripture, the meaning, or at least the beauties, of which are not at first sight apparent, and which a few words of explanation will render clear. We design to present the readers of the Review from time to time with such as may come under our notice, together with such comments, collected from various sources, as will free them from obscurity and bring out the ideas they were intended to enforce.
Isa. vii, 18. "And it shall come to pass in that day that the Lord shall hiss for the fly that is in the uttermost parts of the river of Egypt, and for the bee that is in the land of Assyria." From no custom at the present day could we learn what is meant by hissing for the fly, &c. But it is all clear when we learn the simple fact that hissing as a mode of calling an attendant to his master's side, is a custom very prevalent in Palestine. Says Osborne, "Whenever a servant was wanted, the usual 'shee!' which is so common throughout the land, started two or three in an instant." The text means therefore that the Lord shall call or summon the fly and the bee, as agents in the accomplishment of his purposes, from Egypt and Assyria. In chap. v, 26, the word is used in the same manner.
In Jer. xlix, 19, and 1, 44, we read of people's coming up like a lion from the swelling of Jordan. What had the swelling of Jordan to do with the coming up of lions? We see at once how it was, when we read concerning Jordan, that "in the lower Jordan the stream is bordered by numerous canebrakes; and the thickets joining the river were formerly the retreat of wild beasts, which, of course, would be driven out by a freshet; hence the figure, He shall come up like a lion from the swelling of Jordan."
Matt. xxiii, 24. "Ye blind guides which strain at a gnat and swallow a camel." In the first English translations this passage reads, "Ye strain out a gnat," &c., and the expression alludes to the Jewish custom of filtering wine for fear of swallowing any insect forbidden by the law as unclean ; and it is applied to those who are superstitiously anxious in avoiding small faults, yet do not scruple to commit great sins.
John v, 39. "Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life," &c. The word search, in the original has precisely the same form in the imperative mood, search, and in the indicative mood, ye search. It may therefore be rendered in the latter manner, which, we think, would better give the sense of the passage: Ye search the scriptures. Why? For (because) in them ye think ye have eternal life. And then Christ tells them that all the eternal life they had in their scriptures was in those places wherein they testified of him.
Luke xi, 11, 12. "If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask for a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent? or if he shall ask for an egg will he give him a scorpion?" The resemblance between bread and a stone, and a fish and a serpent, all can readily see; but where is the propriety of a contrast and comparison between an egg and a scorpion? Is there any resemblance between these two to justify such a comparison? There is. We read from those who have traveled in that country, that "the scorpion of Judea when curled up greatly resembles an egg in both size and shape."