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SCRIPTURE HISTORY; 



OPw 



C ONTEMPLATIONS 



HISTORICAL PASSAGES 



BY THE RIGHT REV. JOSEPH HALL, D. D. 

BISHOP OF NORWICH. 

Abridged hj Rev. George Henry Glasse. 



" And beginning at Moses, and all the prophets, he expounded unto them 
all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself." — Luke,2i : 27. 



PUBLISHED BY THE 

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY; 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 



D. Panshaw, Printer. 



i 



OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS. ^ 



CONTENTS 



Couteniplation, Pago. 

1. The Creation, ...•••<••• 9 

2. Paradise, . . .' 13 

3. Cain and Abel, * . 17 

4. Noah, . 21 

5. Abraham, .•.••.... 26 

6. Isaac, 30 

7. Jacob, 34 

8. Joseph, 39 

9. Israel in Egypt, ••••••••• 44 

10. Moses bom and called, 8..«»«.43 

11. The Plagues of Egypt, 53 

12. Isi-ael in the wilderness, 58 

13. The Law, 62 

14. The Veil of Moses, 66 

15. Korah, 71 

16. Balaam, 75 

17. The death of Moses, 80 

13. Joshua, 84 

19. The Gibeonites, 89 

20. Gideon, 94 

21. Manoah, 93 

22. Samson, 103 

23. Naomi, 107 

24. The birth of Samuel , .112 



4 CONTENTS. 

Contemplation. Page. 

25, Eli, 116 

2G. Saul anointed, . . 120 

27. Samuel and David, 125 

28. David and Goliah, 129 

29. The death of Saul, 134 

SO. Nathan and David, 138 

31. The conspiracy of Absalom, . • • • . . 143 

32. The death of Absalom, 148 

33. Solomon, . , 152 

34. The Temple, 157 

35. The Queen of Sheba, 162 

3G. Jeroboam, ....•...» '^ 166 

37. Elijah at Sarepta, 172 

38. Elijah on Carmel, . . • 176 

39. Naboth, 181 

40. The ascent of Elijah, . . 186 

41. The Shunammite, 191 

42. Naaman, . . 2 195 

43. Jehu, . , . . : 200 

44. Athaliah, 205 

45. Hezekiah and Sennacherib, 210 

46. Hezekiah and Isaiah, . . , . . ; . .214 

47. Josiah, 219 

48. The captivity of Judah, 224 

49. Ezra, 229 

50. Nehemiah, 234 

51. Esther, 240 

52. The death of Haman, 247 



CONTENTS. 



THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

Coutemplation, Page. 

53. The Angel and Zacliariali, . ,...., 253 

54. The Annunciation of Christ, . ♦ . . , , 258 

55. The Birth of Christ, 262 

5G. The Sages and the Star, ...,.,. 267 

57. The Purification, 273 

58. Herod and the Infants, 077 

59. Christ with the Doctors in the Temple, .... 282 

GO. Christ Baptized, . / 287 

CI. Christ Tempted, , 292 

62. The same, , 297 

G3. Simon Peter called, . • ••■•>,, 303 

64. The Man-iage in Cana, .,.,,,, 308 

G5. The Good Centurion, ..••,,, 313 

G6. The Widow's Son raised, 317 

67. The Ruler's Son healed, 322 

CS. Matthew called, 327 

69. The Gadarenes, . , . , , , , , 330 

70. The Woman of Canaan, 337 

71. Zacchens, 342 

72. Hcrodias, 348 

73. The Multitude fed, 353 

74. Christ Walking on the Sea, 358 

75. Peter Walking on the Sea, 364 

7G. Jainis, 369 

77. The Samaritan Village, 375 



6 CONTENTS. 

Contemplation. Page. 

78. The Ten Lepers, 379 

79. The Transfiguration, ....... 385 

80. The same, 390 

81. The Lunatic healed, .....,,. 395 

82. Bethesda, . . _ 401 

83. The Power of Conscience, ....... 406 

84. The thankful Penitent, 412 

85. Martha and Maiy, 418 

86. The Blind Beggar cured, 423 

87. The Sons of Zebedee, ....... 429 

88. Lazarus, . . ..... . . 434 

89. The same, . : i 439 

90. Christ's Entry into Jerusalem, • 445 

91. Christ betrayed, ........ 451 

92. The Agony, 456 

93. Peter and Malchus, 461 

94. Christ before Caiaphas, , . 466 

95. Christ before Pilate, .471 

96. The same, 477 

97. The Crucifixion, 482 

98. The same, 487 

99. The same, 492 

100. The same, ". 497 

101. The Resurrection, 501 

102. The same, 507 

103. The Ascension, 512 







lNTR0i>u6TI0N^?7£>in^ / 



The name of Joseph Hall, Bishop of Norwich, is re- 
membered with veneration at the distance of two centu- 
ries from the period in which he flourished. Few, if any, 
of the fathers of the English Church have left behind 
them such illustrious memorials of learning, piety, and 
unwearied industry in the cause of truth. The blame- 
lessness of his life — the fervor of his charity — the variety 
and importance of his theological wi'itings, have been so 
many irresistible claims on posterity to preserve him from 
the oblivion into which most of his contemporaries have 
fallen. A wise and judicious writer of his own times, Sir 
Henry Wotton, distinguished him as the Christian Se- 
neca. He might have proceeded further. He might 
have called him the Chrysosto77i of England. 

The life and sufferings of this eminent servant of God 
have been so carefully transmitted to the present times, 
that it will here be sufficient simply to mention, that he 
was born at Ashby de la Zouch, A. D. 1574 — that his edu- ■ 
cation (which commenced at the free-school endowed in 
the place of his birth) was completed, under many diffi- 
culties and disadvantages, at Emanuel College, Cam- 
bridge — that he was successively Rector of Halstead, 
Minister of Waltham-Cross, Domestic Chaplain to the 
Prince of Wales, Prebendary of Wolverhampton, Dean 
of Worcester, Bishop of Exeter, and, lastly, Bishop of 



8 INTRODUCTION, 

Norwich — where he suffered bitter persecution in the 
turbulent times which succeeded the murder of his So- 
vereign, and where he died in an honorable and dignified 
poverty, A.D. 1656, in the eighty-second year of his age. 
He was one of four deputed to represent the Church of 
England at the Synod of Dort in 1618, but having attend- 
ed for two months, he was compelled to return home by 
the failure of his health. 

The following pages are commended to the public with 
the earnest hope, that in these times of lukewarmness and 
depravity, they may promote the glory of God, and diffuse 
more widely the knov/ledge of sacred truth — opening 
prospects of joy to the afflicted soul, and representing to 
the eye of faith Christ the End of the Law and the Ful- 
ness of the Gospel, who is over all, God blessed for ever* 
more. Amen. 



CONTEMPLATIONS* 




THE scripture" ffi'STORY. 



1.— THE CREATION. 

What can I see, O God, in thy creation, but miracles 
of omnipotence 1 Thou mad est something of nothing ; 
and of that something, all things. It is to the praise of 
us men, if, when we have matter, we can give it fashion : 
thou gavest a being to matter, without form ; thou gavest 
a form to that matter, and a glory to that form. Where- 
in can we now distrust thee, who hast thus fully proved 
thyself to be the God that doest wonders 1 

Thou mightest have made all the world perfect in an 
instant, but thou wouldst not. How should we deliberate 
in all our actions, which are so subject to imperfection, 
since it pleased thine infinite perfection, not out of need, 
to take leisure ! Neither did thy wisdom herein proceed 
in time only, but in degrees. First, thou madest things 
which have being without life — next, those which have 
life and being — lastly, those which have being, life, rea- 
son. Thus we ourselves first live the life of vegetation, 
then of sense, of reason afterwards. When the heaven 
and the earth were created in their rude matter, there 
was neither day nor light ; but presently thou madest 
both light and day. How vainly do we hope to be perfect 
at once ! It is well for us, if, through many degrees, we 
rise to our consummation. 
1* 



10 hall's scripture history. 

But, alas, what was the very heaven itself without 
light 1 How confused ! how^ formless ! Like a fair body- 
without a soul — like a soul without thee. Thou art 
lio-ht : and in thee is no darkness at all. how incom- 
prehensibly glorious is the light that is in thee, since 
one glimpse of this created light gave so lively a glory 
to all thy workmanship ! Shine thou, God, into the 
recesses of my soul, and in thy light I shall see light. 

But whence, O God, was that original light 1 The 
sun was not made till the fourth day — light, the first. 
Thou, who madest the sun, madest the light before the 
sun, that so light might depend upon thee, and not upon 
any part of thy creation. Thy power will not be limited 
to means. It was easy for thee to mai^e a heaven with- 
out a sun, light without a heaven, time without its pe- 
riodical revolutions. We creatures need not one an- 
other, so long as we have thee. A day will come, when 
we shall have light again without the sun — thou wilt be 
our Sun — thy presence our light. Light is sown for the 
righteous. That light, which thou shalt then give us, 
will make us shine like the sun in glory. 

And now the light, which was for three days dis- 
persed through the whole heavens, is united into the 
body of the sun. One star is the treasury of light to 
heaven and earth. Thus, God, the waters by thy com- 
mand are gathered into one place, the sea — thus wilt 
thou gather thy saints from all parts of the universe to 
be partakers of thy joy. We are as thy heavens in their 
first imperfection. Be thou our sun, into which all our 
light may be gathered ! 

Yet was this light by thee interchanged with dark- 
ness. What an instructive lesson hast thou thus im- 
parted to thy creatures! The day dies into night, and 
rises into morning again, that we may not expect sta- 
bility here below. It is always day with thee above — 
the night savoreth only of mortality. Lord, our night 



THE CREATION. 11 

is far spent — our day is at hand — teach us to cast off 
the works of darkness, and to put upon us the armor 
of light. 

How fitly, how wisely are all the parts disposed in 
this thine enlightened frame! Behold all purity above; 
that which is less excellent below. Each element is su- 
perior to other, that by these degrees of a§cending per- 
fection our thoughts might rise to the top of all splen- 
dor, and know thine empyreal heaven to be as much 
more glorious than the visible, as t/iai excels the earth. 
O how miserable is the place of our pilgrimage com- 
pared with our home ! We think one island great, the 
earth, scarce measurable. If we were in heaven with 
these eyes, the whole earth would then seem to us as a 
grain in the balance, or as a moat in the sunbeam. The 
greatness of thy work, God, is little inferior to its 
majesty. But oh, what a glorious heaven hast thou 
spread over our heads ! With what a precious canopy 
hast thou encircled our inferior world ! What gems of 
light hast thou set above us ! Kings build not cottages, 
but magnificent palaces — so hast thou done, O King of 
Glory ! If the pavemejit of thine heaven be so splendid, 
what shall we think of that which yet is unseen ! If this 
sun be so radiant, what is the brightness of its Creator ] 
If such a sky be prepared for the use and benefit of us 
sinners upon earth, how bright shall those eternal ta- 
bernacles be which thou hast prepared for thy children 
in heaven ! 

Behold then, in this stately building, three distinct 
stages : this lowest heaven for fowls, for vapors, for 
meteors — the second for the stars — the third for thine 
angels and saints. The first is thine outward court, open 
for all — the second is the body of thy covered temple, 
wherein are those candles of heaven perpetually burn- 
ing — the third is thine holy of holies. In the first is 
tumult and vanity — in the second, immutability and 



12 hall's scripture history. 

rest — in the third, glory and blessedness. The first we 
feel — the second we see — the third we believe. 

But to descend to this lowest and meanest region, 
wherewith our senses are more acquainted — what mar- 
vels do even here present themselves ! There are thy 
clouds, thy treasuries of rain — there they hang and 
move, though weighty with their burden — how they are 
upheld, and by what means they fall we know not, and 
wonder. There are thy streams of light, blazing and 
falling stars, fires darted up and down in many forms, 
hollow openings, and as it were gulfs in the sky, bright 
circles about the moon, snows, hail. There are thy 
subtle winds, which we hear and feel, yet neither can 
see their substance nor know their causes — whence 
and whither they pass, and what they are, thou knowest. 
If we go down to the great deep, we are there at a loss 
whether to wonder most at the clement itself or the 
guests it contains. How doth that sea of thine roar, and 
foam, and swell, as if it would swallow up the earth ! 
Thou stayest the rage of it by an insensible violence, 
and by a natural miracle confinest its waves. I say no- 
thing of those hidden treasures which thy wisdom hath 
deposited in the bowels of the earth and sea — what in- 
numerable wonders doth the very face of nature ofi^er 
us! Which of these herbs, flowers, trees, leaves, seeds, 
fruits, is there, what beast, what reptile wherein we 
may not see the footsteps of a Deity 1 — wherein we do 
not read infinite power and skill, convinced that He who 
made the angels and stars of heaven, made also the 
creeping thing that creepeth on the earth 1 O God, the 
heart of man is too limited to admire sufficiently even 
that he treads upon. How shall we speak of thee, the 
Maker of these 1 Lord, how wonderful are thy works 
in all the world ! In wisdom hast thou made them all. 
Thou spakest and they were done — thy will is the 
word— and thy word the deed. Thine hand is not now 



PARADISE. 13 

shortened — thy word is still equally effectual — all things 
still obey thee. Say thou the word, and our souls shall 
be made new again : say thou the word, and our bodies 
shall be repaired from the dust. 



2.— PARADISE. 

But, O God, what a little lord thou hast made over 
this great world ! When I consider the heavens, the 
sun, moon, and the stars. Lord, what is man 1 Yet none 
but he can see what thou hast done ; none but he can 
admire and adore thee in what he seetK : how had he 
need to do nothing but this, since only he can do it ! 

It is lawful for us to praise thee in ourselves. All thy 
creation hath not more wonder in it than one of us. 
Other creatures thou madest by thy mere command; 
man, by a divine consultation: others at once; man 
thou didst first form, then inspire : others in several 
shapes; man, in thine own image: others, with quali- 
ties fit for service ; man, for dominion. How should we 
be consecrated to thee above all others, since thou hast 
thus distinguished us above all ! First, thou didst create 
the world and furnish it ; then broughtest thou in thy 
tenant to possess it. Thou that madest the earth ready 
for us before we had a being, hast by the same mercy 
decorated a place in heaven for us, while we are yet on 
earth. The stage was fully prepared; then was man 
brought thither, both as an actor and spectator, that he 
might neither be idle nor discontented. Behold, thou 
hast prepared the earth for his use, the heaven for his 
contemplation, and himself in his soul and body, an 
epitome of heaven and earth. Even this mortal part, vile 
as it is in respect of the other, as it is thine, O God, I 



l^ hall's scripture history. 

contemplate with wonder — for lo, this heap of earth 
hath an outward reference to heaven. Yet if this body- 
be compared to the soul, what is it but a mask to a 
beautiful face, a coarse case to a rich instrument, a wall 
of clay that encompasses a treasure! Man was made 
last, because he was worthiest : the soul was inspired 
last, because yet more precious. God, who madest it, 
replenish it, possess it — dwell thou in it now, and here- 
after receive it to thyself. The body w^as made of earth, 
common to its fellow-creatures — the soul derived im- 
mediately from above. The body lay senseless upon 
earth like itself — the breath of life made it what it is j 
and that breath was from thee. Sense, motion, reason 
are infused into it at once. Thou, who by thy breath 
gavest thy disciples thy Holy Spirit, didst also breathe 
on the body, and gavest it a living spirit. To thee only 
are we indebted, without any intermediate agency, for 
our nobler part. Our flesh is from flesh — our spirit is 
from the God of spirits. How should our souls rise up 
to thee, and fix themselves in their thoughts upon thee ! 
How should they long to return back to the fountain of 
their being and the Author of their glory ! 

Man could no sooner see, than he saw himself happy. 
His eyesight and his reason were both perfect at once ; 
and the objects of both tended to his complete felicity. 
"When he first opened his eyes he saw heaven above 
him, earth under him, the creatures about him : he 
knew what all these meant, as if he had been long ac- 
quainted with them all. He saw the heavens glorious, 
but far ofl': his Maker thought it proper to prepare him 
an earthly Paradise. It was fit his body should have an 
image, on earth, of that heaven which should afterwards 
receive his soul. Had man been only formed for con- 
templaUon, he might have been placed in some vast de- 
sert, or on the top of some barren mountain — but the 
same power which gave him a heart to meditate, gave 



PARADISE. 15 

him hands to work, and work fitted to his hands. Nei- 
ther was it merely the design of the Creator that man 
should live — he willed him to be joyful. Pleasure is 
every way consistent with innocence ; it cannot indeed 
exist without it. God loves to see his creatures happy j 
our lawful delight is his. They know not God who 
think to please him by making themselves miserable. 

What rare and grateful varieties do we find in gar- 
dens planted by the hands of men ! But when He who 
made the matter, undertakes the fashion^ how must it 
be beyond our capacity excellent ! No herb, no flower, 
no tree was wanting which might be for ornament or 
use. And yet, if God had not there conversed with 
man, his abundance had never made him blessed. 

Here his pleasure was his task. Paradise served not 
only to feed his senses, but to exercise his hands. Did 
happiness consist in doing nothing, man, in his state of 
innocence, had been unemployed. But man is no sooner 
made, than his Creator gives him his appointed work : 
he must labor, because he was happy — he was happy, 
in that he labored. The more cheerfully we discharge 
the duties of our several callings, the more nearly do 
we approach to our paradise. 

Neither did these trees afl^ord him only action for his 
hands, but instruction to his heart. All other trees in 
the garden had a natural use — two a spiritual. The 
tree of knowledge and the tree of life were designed 
to nourish the soul by a lively representation of that 
living Tree, whose fruit is eternal life, and whose 
leaves are for the healing of the nations. 

infinite mercy ! Man saw his Savior before him, 
ere he had need of a Savior. He saw in whom he 
should obtain a heavenly life, ere he had lost the 
earthly. And though after he had tasted of the tree of 
knowledge, he might not taste of the tree of life, yet 
then did he reap most benefit from the invisible tree of 



16 

life when he was most restrained from the visible. Of 
this food, Savior, thou hast called me to partake. 
Lo, I eat, and in spite of Adam's disobedience, I live 
for ever. 

How divine a thing is knowledge, whereof even inno- 
cence itself was ambitious! But it Avould not content 
our first parent to know God and his creatures; his cu- 
riosity affected to know what God never made — evil of 
sin, and evil of death. We know evil well enough, and 
smart with knowing it. How dearly hath this lesson 
taught us, that in some cases our happiness consists in 
being ignorant! How many thousand souls miscarry 
with the presumptuous affectation of forbidden know- 
ledge ! O God, thou hast revealed to us as much as we 
can know — enough to make us happy. Without thee 
wisdom is folly, and learning, ignorance. 

Such was the abode of unfallen man, yet even there 
was seen the tempter. What marvel is it, if our depra- 
vity find him present with us, when our holy parents 
found him in their paradise ! No sooner is he entered, 
than he commenceth his attack : elsewhere he knew 
there v/as no danger; behold him at the tree forbidden! 
Lord, (let me beg it without presumption,) make thou 
me wiser than Adam. Even thine image, which he 
bore, preserved him not in obedience, by reason of his 
own infirmity. When he had made a covenant with 
death, and with hell an agreement, it was just for thee 
to dismiss him from his glorious abode. Why shouldst 
thou feed a rebel at thine own board 1 

And yet we transgress daily, and thou dost not shut 
lieaven against us: how is it that we find more mercy 
than our forefather ? His fancied strength deserved se- 
verity — our weakness finds pity. That God, whose face 
he fled in the garden, now makes him with shame fly 
out of the garden — those angels that should have kept 
him, now keep the gates of paradise against him. It is 



CAIN AND ABEL. 17 

not so easy to recover happiness as to keep it, or to 
lose it. 

The same cause which drove man from paradise, 
has since withdrawn paradise from the world. That 
fiery sword did not defend it against those waters 
wherewith the sins of men drowned the glory of the 
world ; neither now do I seek where that paradise 
was which we lost — I know where that paradise is 
which we must study to seek and hope to find. As 
man was the image of God, so w^as that earthly para- 
dise an image of heaven — both the images are defac- 
ed — both the first patterns are eternal. Adam was 
the first — he remained not — in the second is that Se- 
cond Adam, which said, " This day shalt thou be with 
me in paradise." There was that chosen Vessel, who 
heard and saw what could not be expressed — since as 
much as the third heaven exceeds the richest earth, 
so doth that paradise, to which we aspire, exceed that 
which we have lost. Thou, O God, shalt show us the 
path of life — in thy presence is fulness of joy — at thy 
right hand is pleasure for evermore. 



3.— CAIN AND ABEL. 

• 

Look now, O my soul, upon the two first brethren, 
and wonder at their contrary dispositions. If the privi- 
leges of mere nature had been of any value, the first- 
born child had not been desperately wicked. Behold in 
Abel a saint, in Cain a murderer ! 

Doubtless their education was holy. For Adam, 
though in paradise he transgressed the command of 
God, was devout and faithful in his exile. His sin and 
fall had made him circumspect : and since he saw that 



18 hall's scripture history. 

his act had bereaved his children of those blessings 
that were once in store for them, he would surely labor, 
by all holy endeavors, to atone for what had passed, 
that so his care might make amends for his trespass. 
Alas, who would then think that the children of this 
common parent should not be examples of mutual love % 
If but two brothers be left alive of many, we think that 
the love of all the rest should survive in them — yet be- 
hold here are but two brothers in a world, and one is 
the assassin of the other ! That spirit which caused 
enmity between man and God, now sets enmity be- 
tween man and man. All quarrels, all uncharitable- 
ness must flow from one only source. If we enter- 
tain wrath we give place to the devil. Certainly so 
deadly an act must needs be deeply grounded. 

What then was the occasion of this capital malice 1 
Abel's sacrifice meets with acceptance. What was this 
to Caini Cain's oblation is rejected. Could Abel be in 
fault on this account 1 O envy, the corrosive of all evil 
minds, and the root of all atrocious actions ! It should 
have been Cain's joy to see his brother accepted — it 
should have been his sorrow to see that he had deserv- 
ed rejection : his brother's example should have ani- 
mated and directed him in the same path of godliness. 
Could Abel prevent the fire of God from descending on 
his brother's sacrifice 1 Or should he be insensible of 
the mercy shown to himself, and displease his Maker 
to satisfy a graceless brother 1 Was Cain removed fur- 
ther from a blessing because Abel obtained mercy, and 
found favor from above 1 

How proud and how foolish is malice, which grows 
thus frantic and desperate for no cause, but that God is 
just and his servant holy ! Religion, from the introduc- 
tion of sin amongst mankind, hath ever been the occa- 
sion of danger to the children of light. O Lord, let me, 
in indifferent actions, be careful to avoid giving of- 



CAIN AND ABEL. 19 

fence — but while I walk in the way of thy command- 
ments, and receive the gracious manifestations of thy 
favor, I care not if my obedience provoke the indigna- 
tion of thine enemies. 

Seldom hath there existed a nature so perfect as 
to be altogether free from envy. Many, who, perhaps, 
do not suspect themselves, would, upon examination, 
find that they had some traces of Cain's disposition in 
their own. Too often do we hate that goodness in those 
around us which we neglect in ourselves. 

There was never ^nvy that was not bloody — for it 
will devour our own heart, if it reach not that of ano- 
ther. If it be not restrained by the over-ruling arm of 
heaven, it will surely be defiled with blood — often in 
act — always in disposition. And that God, who in good 
accepts the will for the deed, condemns the will for the 
deed in evil. If there be an evil heart, there will be an 
evil eye : and if both these, an evil hand. 
^ How early did martyrdom come into the world ! 
The first man that died, died for religion. 

But who dares measure God's love by outward events, 
when he sees the wicked Cain stand over the bleeding 
Abel 1 The sacrifice of that holy man was first accept- 
ed, and now himself was sacrificed. Death was denounc- 
ed to man as a curse, yet behold it is first inflicted on 
the innocent. How soon is this curse turned into a be- 
nediction ! I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto 
me, '' Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord." If 
death had been finally evil, and life good, then would 
Cain have been cut ofl^, and Abel would have survived. 
Now, since we see that it begins with him whom God 
loveth, we cry out with confidence, '' Death, where 
is thy sting 1" 

Abel says nothing — his blood cries. Every drop of 
guiltless blood hath a tongue ; and is not only vocal but 
importunate. How loud then was the sound which went 



20 

up to heaven when that righteous blood was shed, the 
blood of him who w^as both the Priest and the Sacrifice 
— Him, who accepted it in his divine nature, while he 
offered it in his human ! The Spirit Avhich witnessed both, 
declares that it spake better things than the blood of 
Abel. Abel's blood called for revenge — thine, Savior, 
for mercy. Abel's blood pleaded his own innocence — 
thine, the satisfaction made for all who should believe. 
Abel's blood procured Cain's punishment — thine deliver- 
ed all repentant souls from the wrath of God and the 
judgment which would have ensued. Better things in- 
deed than the blood of Abel! It is good that God 
should be avenged on sinners. It is better^ that through 
Thy mercy he should spare the penitent. 

No sooner doth Abel's blood speak to God, than God 
speaks to Cain. There is no wicked man to whom God 
speaks not — if not to his ear, yet to his heart. The words 
of the Almighty, on this occasion, are not an accusa- 
tion, but an inquiry — yet such an inquiry as would in- 
fer an accusation. God would have a sinner accuse 
himself — it is the first step towards repentance and par- 
don. He hath therefore placed his awful vicegerent in 
the breast of man. But while divine grace seeks to 
produce this ingenuous confession, unregenerate nature 
abhors it. Cain answers with stubborn insolence. The 
very name of Abel wounds him no less than his hand 
had wounded Abel. Consciences that are Avithout re- 
morse are not without horror — wickedness makes them 
either penitent or desperate. The homicide dares to be 
angry with God, as first for accepting his brother's obla- 
tion, so now for listening to his blood ! 

Lo, he presumes to answer God with a question, '^ Am 
I my brother's keeper 1" — when he should have said — 
'' Am I not my brother's murderer V He scorns to keep 
him whom he feared not to destroy. Good duties are 
base and troublesome to wicked minds, while they 



NOAH. 21 

shrink not from the most abandoned villany. Yet this 
miscreant, who -had neither grace to avoid his sin, nor 
to confess it, when he is convicted, and has received his 
just sentence, is loud and importunate in his cries and 
exclamations. He, who regards not the act of sin, shall 
be made to feel the smart of his punishment. In the re- 
gions of sorrow, the enemies of God are weary of their 
torments, but in vain. Cain, who would not keep his 
brother, is cast out from the protection of God — Cain, 
who feared not to kill his brother, fears death at the 
hand of every man. The troubled conscience projects 
fearful things, and sin makes even cruel men cowardly. 
God condemns the criminal, not to die, but to live. He 
was anxious for life — it is granted him : but it is grant- 
ed as a curse. How often doth God hear sinners in au- 
ger ! He shall live, banished from God, carrying his hell 
in his bosom, and the brand of Divine vengeance in his 
forehead. God rejects him — the earth refuses to pros- 
per him — men abhor him — he now wishes for the death 
which once he feared, but the world does not afford 
another murderer. How bitter, how endless are the 
consequences of sin! Now Cain finds that he killed 
himself rathev than his brother. We should never of- 
fend, if we foresaw in what light our offence would 
hereafter appear even to ourselves. The issue of sin 
would be found a thousand times more horrible than 
the act is pleasant. 



4— NOAH. 

What a deluge of sin preceded the flood of waters ! 
The unequal yoke with infidels caused this superfluity 
of naughtiness. The sons of God beheld the daughters 



22 hall's scrifture history. 

of men, that they were fair. Religious husbands lost 
their piety, and gained a rebellious .and monstrous 
progeny. 

That which was the first occasion of sin, was the oc- 
casion of the increase of sin. No man hath his soul in 
safety who hath not made a covenant wuth his eyes. 
Like their first parents, these deluded patriarchs beheld 
that which God had forbidden — they saw — they lusted — 
they transgressed — and they died. 

The Divine justice might have punished them with- 
out previous notice — yet, to approve his mercies even 
to the wicked, God gives them a hundred and twenty 
years' space for repentance. How loth is the Lord to 
strike, who threatens so long ! He who delights in re- 
venge, surprises his adversary — he who gives long warn- 
ingSj seeks even for the guilty a way to escape. It is the 
obduracy of man alone which occasions his suffering. 

Neither doth God in this instance give time only; he 
sends a faithful teacher. Happy are the flock whose 
pastors are righteous. Noah's hand taught as well as 
his tongue. His business, in building the ark, was a 
real sermon to the world — while the work itself pro- 
claimed mercy and life to the believer, and to the rebel- 
lious, destruction. 

Methinks I see the gigantic sons of Lamech coming 
to Noah and asking him what he means by that strange 
work 1 — whether he designs to sail upon the dry land ] 
To whom, when he declares God's purpose and his own, 
they depart in scorn, wagging their heads and saying, 
" He is beside himself — too much holiness hath made 
him mad." But all their impious mockeries deprive not 
Noah of his faith — he preaches, and builds, and finishes. 
It is probable that other hands besides his own and those 
of his family assisted him in his labors — that many con- 
tributed to build the ark, who were not preserved in the 
ark. Our outward works cannot save us without our 



NOAH. 23 

faith. We may procure deliverance to others, and yet 
be miserable ourselves. 

What a wonder of mercy is this that we here behold 1 
— a single family called out of a world — a few grains 
of corn selected from so vast a quantity of chaff! An 
unholy descendant of Noah is kept alive for his father's 
sake — not one righteous man perished in the general 
destruction. For these few the earth was still preserv- 
ed under the waves. Were it not for the godly, fire 
would even now consume that world which could not 
be purified by water. 

The most savage of' all creatures (by an instinct of 
God) come to seek the ark — not a man is seen to ap- 
proach. Reason once depraved is worse than brutish- 
ness. How gently do these tyrants of the desert ofl^er 
and submit themselves to the patriarch, renewing that 
allegiance to the repairer of the world, which before his 
transgression they paid to its first lord! The lions fawn 
upon Noah and Daniel. If the Creator will preserve, the 
creature hath no power to destroy. 

The day is come — all the guests are entered — the ark 
is shut — the windows of heaven are open — and the foun- 
tains of the great deep broken up. Now these scoffers, 
when they see the predictions of Noah about to be ful- 
filled, approach in haste and importunately crave admit- 
tance. But as they formally rejected God, so they are 
justly rejected by him in return. Before vengeance be- 
gins, repentance is seasonable — till judgment be gone 
out, we do not cry too late. While the Gospel solicits 
US, the doors of the ark are open. If we neglect the 
time of grace, we shall learn by sad experience that 
God will fearfully punish the obdurate. When from the 
tops of the mountains they contemplate their approach- 
ing dissolution with paleness and horror, they see the 
ark floating upon the waters, and behold with envy that 
which they formerly beheld with scorn. 



24< hall's scripture history. 

In vain doth he fly, whom God pursues. There is no 
way to avoid his judgments, unless we betake ourselves 
to his mercy by repentance. The faith of the righteous 
was once derided — now his success demonstrates the 
hand of God. How securely doth Noah ride out this up- 
roar of heaven, earth, and waters! He hears the pouring 
down of the rain above his head — the shrieks of men, 
the roaring of beasts around him — the raging of the 
waves beneath him. He sees the miserable end of the 
unbelievers ; and in the mean time himself neither feels 
nor fears evil. He knows that God, who created the 
waters, will direct him — that God, who had shut him in,- 
will preserve him. How happy a thing is faith ! What 
a quiet safety, what a heavenly peace doth it work 
in the soul, in the midst of all the inundations of evil ! 

At length the Almighty decreed that a renovation of 
all things should succeed this destruction. After forty 
days the heaven clears up — after a hundred and fifty, 
the waters sink down. God is soon weary of punishing 
— he is never weary of blessing. Now doth Noah send 
out the raven and the dove. The raven flies away, and 
returns no more. The carnal mind quits the church of 
God and embraces the present world j scorning to be 
restrained within the limits of christian obedience. The 
dove, like a true citizen of the ark, returns, and by her 
olive-leaf brings welcome news of the abatement of the 
waters. How worthy are those ambassadors to be re- 
ceived with joy, who, with innocence in their lives, 
bring glad tidings of peace and salvation in their 
mouths ! 

Noah believes and rejoices, yet still he waits seven 
days more ere he will despatch again his winged mes- 
senger, and two months ere he will forsake the ark : 
nor would he even then have quitted it, had not the 
God who commanded him to enter, commanded him 
likewise to depart. Happy is that man who in all 



things, neglecting the counsels of flesh and blood, de- 
pends upon the direction of Omnipotence. 

No sooner is Noah come out of the ark than he builds 
an altar — not a house for himself, but an altar to the 
Lord. Delayed gratitude is not worthy of acceptance. 
Behold this fire of Noah*s sacrifice ascends up to those 
heavens from whence the waters fell, and a glorious 
rainbow appears there, for his security and that of his 
descendants ; a pledge of the everlasting covenant be- 
tween heaven and earth. No incense can be so sweet 
in the presence of God as the holy obedience of the 
faithful. Here then was there a new and second rest. 
First, God rested from making the world, now from de* 
stroying it. We cease not to offend, but he forbears 
again to punish us by a general overthrow. His word 
was enough; but he adds a token which may speak the 
truth of his promise to the very eyes of men. Nor is 
this more evident in the natural than in the spiritual 
world. His blessed sacraments are the symbols of his 
heavenly covenant to the soul. All the signs of his in- 
stitution are proper and significant. 

But who would look, after all this, to find righteous 
Noah, the father of the new world, drunken in his tent % 
Alas, what are we men without assistance from God \ 
While he upholds us no temptation can prevail against 
us ; if he withdraw his support, no trial is too weak to 
overthrow us. He who thus sufl^ered the king, the priest, 
the prophet of the world to transgress, knows how to 
make even the errors of his holy ones tend to the ad- 
vantage of his church. If we had not such examples of 
human frailty before us, how often should we be tempt- 
ed to despair at the thought of our manifold infirmities! 

What shall we think of that vice which robs a man 
of himself, and leaves a beast in his rooml Ham be- 
holds, and laughs at the humiliation of his parent and 
preserver. Better had that ungracious son perished in 

Script, nkc -* 



26 

the waters, than that he should have lived to receive 
liis father's curse. The modest sorrow of his brethren, 
which drew on them a blessing, is their praise and our 
example. The sins of those we love and honor we must 
hear of with indignation — fearfully and unwillingly be- 
lieve — acknowledge with grief and shame — hide with 
honest excuses — and bury in silence. 



5.— ABRAHAM. 

How soon are men and sins multiplied ! While thc^ 
ee before them the fearful monuments of their ances 
tors' ruin, how quickly have they forgotten a flood! 1. 
was a proud word, " Come, let us build us a city and a 
tower, whose top may reach to heaven." Most shame- 
ful arrogance — most ignorant presumption in man, who 
is a worm — in the son of man, who is a worm! God 
wills us to look up towards heaven with lively faith — 
with humble and fervent desires, not with the proud 
imaginations of our own achievements ; but haughty 
and frantic ambition knows no limits, and so the Al- 
mighty directs his indignation against it. 

Lo ! his divine power arrests them in the midst of 
their course j by dividing their tongues he frustrates 
their work, and mocks the impiety of the workmen. 
How easily can he control or bring to nothing the great- 
est projects of men ! Wicked acts, which begin in vain- 
glory, do for the most part terminate in shame. After- 
Avards there was a time when what was here effected as 
0. punishment^ took place, by the inspiration of God, for 
a blessing to the church, that the sound of the glorious 
Gospel might be heard amidst the people, the nations 
and the languages. But alas ! to this day in our spiritual 



ABRAHAM. 27 

Sion the building doth not advance, because our tongues 
are divided. Happy would it be for the church of God 
if there we all spake but one language. While we live 
in divscord we can build nothing but confusion. Differ- 
ence of tongues caused the Babel of these sinners to 
cease, but it promotes the height of ours. 

In the land whose inhabitants thus rebelled against a 
God of justice and mercy the holy patriarch Abraham is 
born, but he is directed to seek elsewhere for his abode. 

It was fit that he who was to be the father and pattern 
of the faithful should be thoroughly tried. No son of 
Abraham must shrink' from difficulties, or expect to es- 
cape temptations, when he sees that bosom on which 
hereafter he desires to repose assaulted by such innu- 
merable trials. Abraham must leave his country and 
kindred, and dwell among strangers. The earth is the 
Lord's, and all places are alike to the wise and faithful. 
If Chaldea had not been grossly idolatrous Abraham had 
not quitted it, but no bond must tie us to the danger of 
infection. 

Yet whither must he go 1 to a place he knew not — to 
men that knew not him. It is comfort enough to a good 
man, wheresoever he is, that he is acquainted with God : 
we cannot be out of the way while we follow his holy 
calling. Never did any man lose by his obedience to 
the Most High. Because Abraham yielded, God gives 
him the inheritance of Canaan ; and the faith which thus 
takes possession, equals that which first led him to quit 
his native country. Behold, Abraham takes possession 
for that progeny which he had not — which in nature it 
was not probable he should have. He takes possession 
of that land whereof himself should never have one 
foot ; wherein his descendants should not be settled till 
almost five hundred years after. The power of faith can 
anticipate time, and make future things present. If we 
are the true sons of Abraham, we are already, while we 



28 hall's scripture history. 

80Journ here on earth, possessors of our land of pro- 
mise ; while we seek our country we have it. 

Canaan doth not afford him bread, which yet must 
flow with milk and honey to his posterity. Sense must 
still yield to faith. He must depart into the land of 
Egypt, and there seek the relief which elsewhere he 
may not find. Thrice hath Egypt preserved the church 
of God — in Abraham, in Jacob, in Christ. The Almighty 
often makes use of the world for the benefit of his chil- 
dren ; and even the wicked in many instances eflfect his 
good purpose, while themselves are intending only evil. 

The famine is past ; the patriarch returns, and with 
him the wife of his bosom, and Lot, the companion of 
his exile ; while Canaan, as if it would atone for its late 
scarcity, now brings forth by handfuls, even to these 
strangers. Before they grew rich they dwelt together} 
now their wealth separates them ; their society was a 
greater benefit than their riches. How many are griev- 
ous sufferers by that which the world holds dearest ! 

It was the duty of Lot to yield to the brother of his 
father, not to contend and stipulate. Who would not 
think Abraham the younger and Lot the elder 1 It is no 
disparagement to the greatest persons to commence a 
treaty of peace. Better does it become every servant 
of God to win with love than to sway with power. Abra- 
ham resigns his pre-eminence — Lot takes it. And be- 
hold, Lot is crossed in that he chose ; Abraham is bless- 
ed in that which was left him. God will not fail to re- 
ward him who meekly resigns his right in the desire of 
peace. 

Lot sees the fertile plains watered by Jordan — the 
richness of the soil — the benefit of the rivers — the situ- 
ation of the cities; and without inquiring further, he 
takes up his abode in Sodom. Twice did he pay dear 
for his rashness. He departed peaceably from his near- 
est friend \ ho finds war with strangers j he is deprived 



ikBRAHAM. 29 

of his liberty and substance by powerful enemies. Now 
must Abraham rescue him by whom he had been for- 
saken. That wealth which was the cause of his former 
quarrels is made a prey to merciless heathens; that 
place which his eye covetously chose endangers his life 
and his possessions. Christians, '.hile they have sought 
for gain, have too frequently lost themselves. 

Yet this ill success hath not induced Lot to depart 
from that widked region which, if it had been taught 
repentance by the sword, would have escaped the fire. 
Even this visitation Jiath not made ten good men in 
those five cities. Only Lot vexed his righteous soul at 
their wickedness. He vexed his oxen soul, for he staid 
there with his own consent ; but because he was vexed 
he is delivered — he is rescued from the judgments of 
God— he becomes an host to angels. The houses of 
holy men are full of these heavenly spirits, whom they 
know not j they pitch their tents in ours^ visit us when 
we see not, and when we feel not protect us. 

Wickedness hath but a time ; its punishment inevita- 
bljr, however slowly, approaches. Short and dangerous 
was the residue of that night in which the patriarch re- 
ceived his heavenly guests. Yet still he goes forth to 
seek his sons-in-law. No good man wishes to be happy 
alone ; faith makes us charitable at the hazard of our 
own safety. He warns them like a prophet, and advises 
them like a father, but in vain ; he seems to them as one 
that mocked, and they do more than seem to mock him 
in return. Thus, to carnal minds preaching is foolish, 
devotion useless, the prophets madmen, Paul a vain bab- 
bler. He that believeth not is condemned already. 

O the bounty of God, which extends not to us only, 
h\xi ours! He preserves Lot for Abraham's sake, and 
even the city Zoar for Lot's sake. Were it not that the 
children of God are intermixed with the world, that 
world could not stand ; the wicked owe their lives to 



30 hall's scripture history. 

those few good men, whom they hate and persecute. 
Now the sun rises on Zoar, and fire falls down on So- 
dom. Abraham stands upon the hill and sees the cities 
burning. His faith is confirmed, while his heart is rent 
with pity for those in whose behalf he had pleaded 
with his God. 

The angel, who came down from heaven in wrath to 
visit Sodom, brought to Abraham a message of peace, 
and announced the near approach of the promised seed. 
The holy man hears the tidings with joy. Sarah mis- 
trusts, and fears, and doubts, and yet hides her difii- 
dence j till, reproved for her infidelity by Him who is 
a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart, 
she is at length convinced of his omnipotence. 

Abraham believeth God, and it is accounted to him 
for righteousness. It is enough for him that God hath 
said it. He sees not the means, he sees the promise. 
He knows that his posterity shall be as the stars of 
heaven, though as yet he has no child. Faith is ever 
recompensed with blessings. Isaac is born to Sarah and 
to Abraham. 



6.— ISAAC. 

But these are in comparison easy tasks of faith — all 
ages have stood amazed at the next, not knowing 
whether they should more wonder at God's command 
or the obedience of his servant. Many years that good 
patriarch waited for his son. Now he hath joyfully re- 
ceived him, and with him the gracious promise, '' In 
Isaac shall thy seed be called." Behold, the son of his 
age, the son of his love, the son of his expectation 
must die by the hand of this wretched father. '^ Take 



ISAAC. 3 1 

thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and go to the 
land of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt of- 
fering." 

Never was any gold tried in so fierce a fire. But God 
knew that he spake to an Abraham j and Abraham 
knew that he w^as commanded by a God. Faith had 
taught him not to argue, but obey. He is sure that 
what God commands is good — that what he promises 
is infallible — and therefore he is careless of the ?nea7is, 
and trusts to the end. We hear him not exclaiming, 
*'VVhat! doth the God of mercies delight in blood ^. 
Can murder become pfety 1 Can I not be faithful unless 
I am unnatural 1 Why did I wait so long for my son 1 
Why didst thou give him me 1 Why is he so dutiful, 
•so dear, so hopeful] Why didst thou promise me a 
blessing in him 1 When Isaac is gone, w^here is my 
blessing ] God, if thy commands and purposes be 
cnpable of alteration, let thy first word stand — rescind 
this dreadful sentence !" 

These would have been the thoughts of an unstable 
heart. The good patriarch rises early and prepares 
himself for his sad journey. And now he must travel 
three whole days to the place appointed ; and still must 
Isaac be in his eye, w^hom all this while in his imagina- 
tion ho sees expiring. There is nothing so miserable as 
to dwell under the expectation of a great evil. Inevita- 
ble misfortune is mitigated by speed and aggravated 
by delay. All this time had Abraham leisure to return. 
Now when they are come in sight of the chosen moun- 
tain the attendants are dismissed. What a devotion is 
this, that will abide no witnesses? Alas, what stranger 
could have endured to see the father carry the knife 
and fire, instruments of that death which he had rather 
suffer than inflict? to see the son carrying that load on 
which he was so soon to be extended as a victim ? 

But what must be the strength of Abraham's faith, 



32 hall's scriptube histoky. 

that he could endure the question of his dear, his in- 
nocent, his religious child 1 " My father, behold the fire 
and the wood — but where is the lamb for a burnt-offer- 
ing 1" Did not that one word, " My father," inflict on 
the patriarch a death far more cruel than he could pos- 
eibly inflict on his son 1 Yet still the pious parent con- 
ceals, persists, and where he means not, prophesies, 
''My son, God himself shall provide a lamb for the 
burnt-offering." 

Reluctantly do the heavy tidings come forth — it was 
torment to Abraham to say what he must do. He knows 
his own faith, he knows not the constancy of his son. 
But now, when Isaac hath assisted in building the altar 
on which he must be offered, he hears the strange com- 
mand of God, the final will of his father. " My son, thou 
art the lamb which God hath provided for this burnt- 
offering. If my blood would have excused thee, how 
many thousand times had I rather give thee mine own 
life than take thine ! Alas, I am full of days, and for a 
long season have only lived in thee. Thou mightst have 
preserved the life of thy father, have comforted his 
death, have closed his eyes — but the God of us both 
has chosen thee. He that gave thee to me miraculously, 
bids me, by an unusual method, return thee to himself. 
It is needless to tell thee that I sacrifice all my worldly 
joys, yea, and myself in thee. But God must be obey- 
ed ; neither art thou too dear for him that calls thee. 
Come then, my son, restore the life which God hath 
given thee by me — offer thyself willingly on this altar- 
send up thy soul cheerfully to thy glory — and know, 
that God loves thee above others, since he requires 
thee alone to be consecrated in sacrifice to himself!" 

Who cannot imagine with what perplexed and min- 
gled passions, with what changes of countenance, what 
doubts, what fears, what amazement, the youth received 
this sudden message from the mouth of his father 1 



ISAAC. 33 

But when he had composed his thoughts, and considered 
that the author was God, the actor Abraham, the act a 
sacrifice, he approves himseh' no degenerate child of 
such a parent. Now he encourages the trembling hand 
of his father — offers his hands and feet to the cords, his 
bosom to the knife, his body to the altar. O holy emu- 
lation of faith! O blessed agreement of the sacrificer 
and the oblation ! Abraham no longer delays the fatal 
act of obedience — he binds those dear hands, he lays 
his sacrifice on the wood. 

And now having given him a last embrace, not with- 
out mutual tears, he lifts up his hand to inflict the stroke 
of death at once. Now the stay of Abraham, the pro- 
mised seed, the hope of the Church, the beloved of God, 
lies prepared to bleed under the hand of a father. 

What heart would be unmoved at such a spectacle as 
the patriarch and his Isaac at this moment afforded! 
What heathen, however barbarous, who had been now 
on the hill of Moriah, and had beheld the weapon of a 
parent uplifted against such a son, would not have 
been overwhelmed with horror and amazement 1 Yet he 
whom it most nearly concerned remains unshaken. In 
his pious soul faith and patience have their perfect 
work. He contemns all fears — he overlooks all impos- 
sibilities. His heart tells him, that the same povi^er, 
which by miracle gave him his son, by miracle could 
raise him again from the ashes of his sacrifice. Thus 
fortified, thus elevated above nature itself, he prepares 
for the last dreadful act, when suddenly the angel of the 
Lord stays his arm — forbids him — commends him ! , 

I The voice of God was never so welcome, never so 
seasonable as now. It was the trial he intended, not the 
fact, Isaac is sacrificed, and is yet alive — and now the 
joy and rapture of these saints of God make amends to 
them for all the sorrows which they had sustained. 
The commands of God are often harsh in the beginning, 

2* 



34. uall's scripture history* 

but in the conclusion always full of comfort. True spi- 
ritual consolation is frequently delayed. God defers it 
on purpose, that our trials may be perfect, our deliver- 
ance welcome, our recompense glorious. Isaac had ne- 
ver been so precious to his father, if he had not been 
recovered from death — if he had not been as wonder- 
fully restored as given. Abraham had never been blessed 
in his posterity, if he had not neglected Isaac for God. 
The only way to find comfort in any earthly thing is 
to surrender it into the hands of the Almighty, in pious 
resignation. 

, Abraham came to sacrifice— his purpose is not frus- 
trated. Behold, a ram stands ready for the burnt-offering, 
and as it were offers himself to the exchange. What 
mysteries are there in every act of God! Here, even 
here, in after ages, the only Son of God is on this moun- 
tain laid on the altar of his cross, a true ^crifice for 
the world — yet is he raised without any real injury, and 
exempted from the power of death. Here is he offered 
and accepted — here his death and his rising proclaim 
him doubly a Savior. The patriarch Abraham saw this 
glorious day with the eye of faith — he saw it, and was 
glad. 

, Whatsoever is dearest to us is our Isaac — happy are 
we if we can offer it to God. They shall never rest with 
Abraham who cannot sacrifice with Abraham. 



7.~J A C B . 

Of all the patriarchs none lived so privately or so 
peaceably as Isaac. Distinguished for his filial piety 
and conjugal affection, faithful to his God, dutiful to 
bis parents, a chaste observer of nnptinl fidelity, he 



JACOB. 35 

paibsed his days in the contemplation and the tranquil- 
lity that he so loved. 

But the life of Jacob was busy and troublesome ; none 
of the patriarchal race saw such evil days as he from 
whom the militant Israel of God hath taken its name. 

There is nothing but conflict to be expected where 
grace is put in competition with nature. 

Esau hath the right of primogeniture, Jacob that of 
promise ; yet to this he adds that of purchase too. The 
careless, unbelieving Esau barters for a poor considera- 
tion what in fact was not rightfully his own — what was 
now his brother's by every law divine and human. Ne- 
ver, except the forbidden fruit, was food so dearly pur- 
chased as this repast of Esau ! 

But what hath Jacob gained, if the fondness of Isaac 
for his first-born shall countervail both the purchase and 
the promise ? Blinded by age and by affection, Isaac 
prepares to bestow on Esau that blessing which be- 
longed only to the birthright he had assigned to his 
brother, and on which depended the precious privilege 
of being ancestor to the Messiah. The dearest of God's 
saints have sometimes been overcome by too great ten- 
derness of heart. Isaac knew the oracle of God that the 
elder of his sons should serve the younger. He (no 
doubt) knew that profane contempt wherewith Esau 
had rejected the privileges of his birth. He saw him 
forming impious alliances with heathens — and yet he 
will consider nothing but his own unjust partiality. 
How gracious is God, who, when we would sin, doth 
often interpose his providence, and so orders our ac- 
tions, that w^e do, not what we would., but what we 
ought I 

Lo, the affections of the parents are divided that the 
promise may be fulfilled. Isaac would unjustly bestow 
on Esau that which was Jacob's ; Rebecca, with equal 
injustice, teaches Jacob to personate Esau. The mother 



36 

shall rather defeat the son and beguile the father, than 
the father shall beguile the chosen son of his blessing. 
Her desire was good j the means she used to effect it 
were unlawful. God often accomplishes his purpose by 
means of our infirmity; yet neither is our weakness 
thereby justified, nor his unerring justice impeached. 

Here was nothing but illusion. The person, the name, 
the food, the answer, all counterfeit — yet behold a true 
blessing ! Jacob fears the failure o[ his stratagem, the 
disappointm'ent of his hopes, the curse of his father. 
Rebecca, presuming on the oracle of God and the un- 
Buspicious temper of her husband, dares be surety for 
the danger, counsels her son in his procedure, assists 
him in its progress, seeks to obviate every difficulty 
which may arise, and only regrets that while she invests 
Jacob with the garment of Esau, she cannot at the same 
time give him the voice. But this is past her remedy. 
Her son must name himself Esau in the accent of Jacob. 
No doubt, if Isaac by any of his senses had discerned 
the fraud, she herself w^ould have stood forth, would 
have taken on her own head all the blame, would have 
urged the known will of God concerning the servitude 
of Esau and the dominion of Jacob, which age and 
partiality had blotted out from the memory of their 
father. 

He who is good himself is unwilling to believe evil 
of another ; and will rather distrust his own senses than 
the fidelity of those he loves. Yet to deceive the ear 
of his father, Jacob must second his dissimulation 
with falsehood. Jacob, I love thy blessing, but I hate 
thy method of obtaining it. I would not venture thy 
fraud to obtain a benediction from the holiest of men; 
for God who pardoned thy weakness would punish my 
wilful transgression. 

Isaac believes, and blesses his younger son in the gar- 
ments of the elder ; and Jacob is no sooner gone away 



JACOB. 37 

wiih joy, than Esau comes in with presumptuous expec- 
tation. Jacob had obtained that by wrong which was 
by riglit his own. Esau, not regarding his voluntary ab 
dication of his birthright, dares yet hope for the privi- 
lege he had wantonly cast away from him. 

But the hopes of the wicked fail them when they 
are at the highest, and Esau, who in his father's bless- 
ing sought only present benefit, meets with nothing but 
a repulse. Lo, Isaac now trembles, and Esau weeps. 
Who would trust tears when we see them fall from 
such graceless eyesi 

Isaac trembles, on tiie conviction of his conscience. 
His heart now told him that he should not have purpos- 
ed the blessing where he did, and that it was due to 
him who had obtained it. Hence he durst not reverse 
what he had done by the will of God and not his own. 

It was a good w^ord, " Bless me also, O my father !" 
Every miscreant can wish himself well. No man would 
be miserable if it were enough to desire happiness. But 
the tears of Esau were false and unholy ! they were the 
tears of rage, of envy, of carnal desire ; they proceed- 
ed from that worldly sorrow w^iich causeth death. He did 
not see that God was just in all that had befallen him; 
he knew himself profane, and yet he claims a blessing. 

And now, like a second Cain, he resolves to kill his 
brother because that brother w^as more worthy. He 
lonofs for the death of Isaac, and meditates that of 
Jacob J who, to escape his present indignation, flies 
from the cruel Esau to the cruel Laban. With a sta(l 
he goes over Jordan, alone, doubtful and comfortless. 
In the way the earth is his bed and a stone his pillow; 
yet even then his heart is full of joy ; he beholds a vi- 
sion of angels ; he hears his father's blessing echoed to 
him from heaven. God is most present with us in our 
greatest dejection, and loves to give comfort to those 
who are forsaken of their hopes. 



S8 

Jacob travels far, and meets with little friendship at 
the end of his journey. No doubt, when Laban heard 
of his approach he looked for the camels and attend- 
ants which summoned Rebecca from her native coun- 
try ! he supposed that the son of Isaac would not come 
with less grandeur than the servant of Abraham. Now, 
when he sees him alone and unattended, he beholds in 
him not a kinsman but a slave. 

Lo, he serves seven years for his Rachel, and at the 
end is beguiled by the subtlety of Laban, and compell- 
ed to be the unwilling husband of Leah. In the substi- 
tution of the elder daughter for the younger he could 
jiot but remember his own past treachery. At a mo- 
ment when we think not, God often repays us our sins 
by the sins of others. Other seven years must he serve 
for Rachel. What miseries will not love overcome 1 If 
Jacob was willingly consumed in the day by the heat, 
and in the night by the frost, to become the son-in-law 
of Laban, O what should we refuse to become the sons 
of Godl 

But while Laban only considers his own advantage, 
God provides for his faithful servant — whose wealth 
(after twenty years) renders him an object of envy to 
the proud sons of a cruel father. Jacob is constrained to 
flee as from an enemy ; Laban, as an enemy, pursues 
him — meanwhile an army of men are conducted against 
him by Esau, with equally hostile intentions. But he 
who can wrestle earnestly with God is secure from the 
harms of men. Laban leaves Jacob, and Esau meets him 
with a kiss. Who shall need to fear that is in league 
with Go-d I When a man's ways please the Lord he 
maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him. 

Yet how many are the troubles of the righteous ! 
Rachel, the comfort of his life, dieth. His children, the 
j^taff o{ his age, wound his soul to the death. Simeon 
and Levi are murderous — Reuben and Judah incestuous 



JOSEPH. 39 

— Dinah is ravished — Joseph is lost — Simeon is im- 
prisoned — Benjamin, the right hand of his father, is en- 
dangered — and Jacob is driven by famine in his old age 
to die amongst the Egyptians, a people who held it 
abomination to eat with him. What son of Israel can 
hope for good days, when he hears that his father's 
were so evil ] It is enough for us, if when we are dead 
we can rest with him in the land of promise. If the 
Angel of the covenant once bless us, no pain, no sorrow 
can make us miserable. Many are the troubles of the 
^'•nrhteous, but the Lord delivereth him oat of them all. 



8.— JOSEPH. 

Suffering is ever the way to glory. If we are dear to 
our heavenly Father we are hated by our carnal breth- 
ren. Joseph is not a clearer type of Christ, than of 
every christian. 

How unsearchable are the ways of God! How do 
they transcend all human investigation ! Had it not been 
for Joseph's dreams, he had not been sold ; had he not 
been sold, he had not been exalted. Little did Joseph 
think, when he went to seek his brethren, that he should 
never more return to his father's house ; little did his 
brethren think, when they sold him naked to the Ish- 
maelites, that they should see him exalted to princely 
dignity in Egypt. 

While Joseph inquires of his brethren's health they 
arc plotting his destruction. He looked for kinsmen and 
friends, and beheld murderers ! Each one strives who 
shall lay the first hand on the many-colored pledge of a 



40 r.\ll's scmriURE iiistort. 

father^s fondness. They strip him naked, cast him alive 
into his grave, and, in pretence of forbearance, resolve to 
aggravate his misery by a death of protracted anguish. 

All this while Joseph wanted neither words nor tears 
• — the passionate suppliant entreated them, by the dear 
name of their brotherhood, by their adoration of one 
common God, for their father's sake, for their own soul's 
sake, not to sin against his blood. But envy hath shut 
out mercy, and made them forget themselves, not only 
to be brethren, but men. While the noise of his lamen- 
tation is in their ears, they sit down to eat bread, with- 
out one sensation of remorse at their having condemned 
the innocent darling of their father to perish with hunger. 

And now, while he hath nothing in prospect but 
present death, behold it exchanged for bondage. God 
will ever raise up some secret favorers to his children, 
even among their bitterest enemies. At the instigation 
of Judah, a company of Ishmaelites passing by, pur- 
chase a treasure far more precious than all their balm 
and myrrh. From the pit where he lay naked and lan- 
guishing they receive into their hands the lord of 
Egypt, the delight and ornament of the world. 

He who is mourned for in Canaan as dead, prospers in 
Egypt in the house of Potiphar, and instead of a slave is 
made a ruler — but lo, again his obedience to God and 
unshaken adherence to liis duty make him the victim 
of malice and revenge. Disappointed lust, hatred burn, 
ing furiously in the heart of a woman, procure him an 
unjust and cruel imprisonment. The patriarch submits 
in f>ilence--he knows that God will find a time to clear 
his innocence, to reward his chaste fidelity. 

No sooner is Joseph a prisoner than he is a gvar* 
dian of the prisoners. Trust and honor accompany him 
wheresoever he is. In his father's house, in Potiphar's, 
in the prison, in the palace, still hath he both favor 
and rale. 



JOSEPH. 41 

After two years of Joseph's patience, God calls him 
to more distinguished honor — sends a dream to Pha- 
raoh — imparts the interpretation to Joseph. Lo, from a 
miserable prisoner the youth is made ruler of Egypt ! 
One hour hath changed his fetters into a chain of gold, 
and the captive of Potiphar is lord over his ancient 
master. Humility goes before honor — sorrow and suf* 
fering are the best instructors to those who are called 
to dignity. How well are the children of God repaid 
for their patience ! Never doth he neglect them j least 
of all in the day of their afflictions. 

Pharaoh prefers Joseph — Joseph enriches Pharaoh. 
If Joseph had not ruled, Egypt had been undone — now 
the subjects are indebted to him for life, the king for 
liis supremacy — the bounty of God made his servant 
able to give more than he received. 

No piety can exempt us from the common visitations 
of God. The holy Jacob is afflicted by the famine which 
desolates the land of his pilgrimage. No man can tell 
by the outward event, which is the patriarch and which 
the Canaanite. His ten sons must now leave their 
flocks and go down into Egypt. They must humbly bow 
the knee to him who was once the object of their scorn- 
ful cruelty. His habit, his language, his dignity kept 
Joseph from their thoughts — while nothing tends to 
prevent his immediate recollection of those whom he 
has more reason to view as enemies than as brethren. 

Now does he behold the accomplishment of his an- 
cient dreams — now thinks he fit to hide his love from 
them who had shown him so much hatred. He speaks 
roughly — rejects their persuasions — calls them spies- 
puts them all in hold — and one of them in bonds. The 
mind must not always be judged by the outward actions. 
God's countenance is often severe to those he best lov- 
eth. What song could be so delightful to the patriarch 
as to hear his brethren in bitter remorse condemn them- 



42 HALL S SCRIPTURE IIISTORY. 

selves for their former cruelty, before him who was 
their witness and judge 1 His heart is melted — he pi- 
ties them with tears — he weeps for joy to see their 
repentance. 

Yet is Simeon left in fetters, and the rest go back 
with their corn and with their money to their father. 
Jacob was unused to perfect happiness. They who 
bring him necessary food, bring him sad tidings of the 
detention of one son, the danger of another. While they 
prevent his dying with hunger, they pierce his heart 
with new sorrows. 

The painful separation is for a while protracted : but 
at length his Benjamin must depart. No plea is so 
importunate as that of famine. The brethren return to 
Egypt laden with double money, and with a present in 
their hands. 

Now hath Joseph his desire — now doth he feast his 
eyes with the sight of that dear brother whom he bor- 
Tows, as it were, for a season, that he may restore him 
with increase of joy. Now he welcomes them whom 
once he threatened, and turns their fear into wonder. 
But soon their fear comes back with tenfold violence. 
Joseph, by a feigned accusation of Benjamin, proves his 
brethren afresh, that he may redouble their joy should 
he deem them worthy of his love. 

And now, when Judah tenderly reports the danger of 
his aged father, and the sadness of his last complaint, 
and his fond attachment to the son of his old age, com- 
passion and transport will be concealed no longer — they 
burst forth by his voice and at his eyes. Joseph sends 
out his servants, that he might freely weep. He knew 
he could not say, "I am Joseph!" without the most 
impassioned vehemence. 

Never any word sounded like this in the ears of the 
jsons of Jacob. What marvel if they stood with paleness 
and silence before him, while the more they believed 



JOSEPH. 43 

the more they feared ! " I am Joseph," implies to their 
consciences, '' Ye are murderers ! My power and this 
place give me all opportunities of revenge. My glory is 
your shame, my life your danger, your sin lives together 
with me." But soon the tears and gracious words of 
Joseph assure them of pardon and love, and change 
their doubts into gladness. Now they return home rich 
and joyful, and make themselves happy by the joy they 
were to afford their father. 

The return of Benjamin was acceptable— but that his 
dead son was yet alive ^fter so many years' lamenta- 
tion, was intelligence too rapturous for belief, and en- 
dangered the life of Jacob with fulness of joy. 

Yet his eyes revived his mind ; and when he saw the 
chariots of his son he believed Joseph's life, and sought 
earnestly for his society. "It is enough^Joseph my 
son is yet alive — I will go down and see him before 
I die."^ 

The height of all earthly happiness appeared in the 
meeting of the father and his son, endeared to each 
other by their mutual loss. God doth often remove our 
comforts for a time, that we may be more joyful in 
their recovery. This was the most unmixed joy the 
patriarch ever felt. It was reserved by heaven to illu- 
mine the evening of his days. 

And if the meeting of earthly friends be so delight- 
ful, how happy shall we be in the sight of the glorious 
God, our heavenly Father ! of that blessed Redeemer, 
whom we sold to death by our sins, and who, after his 
noble triumph, hath all power given him in heaven and 
earth ! 

Thus did Jacob rejoice when he was to go out of the 
land of promise into a foreign nation for Joseph's sake j 
being glad to lose his country for his son. O what 
shall our joy be who must go out of this foreign land 
of our pilgrimage to the home of our glorious inherit- 



44 hall's scripture history. 

ance, to that better Goshen, free from all the imperfec- 
tions of this Egypt, and full of all the riches and de- 
lights of God I 



9.— ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 

Egypt was long a place of refuge to the Israelites — 
now it becomes a prison : they who at first were ho- 
nored as lords, are now held in contempt as slaves. It 
is a rare thing to find posterity heirs of ancient love j 
one Pharaoh advances the children of Jacob, another 
labors to destroy them. How should the favor of men 
be otherwise than themselves, variable and inconstant 1 
There is no certainty but in the favor of God, in whom 
is no variableness, whose mercies descend without in- 
terruption on a thousand generations. 

If the Israelites had been treacherous, if they had 
been disobedient, there had been some pretence for this 
alienation. Now their only offence is, that they pros- 
per; that which should bring them congratulation be- 
comes the cause of malice. There is no sight so hate- 
ful to a wicked man as the felicity of the righteous. 

And what if Israel be mighty and rich 1 " If there be 
war, they may join with our adversaries." It is easy 
for those who seek for contention to find a plausible 
pretence ; here were no wars, no adversaries, no hos- 
tile dispositions on the part of Israel ; yet behold, they 
enslave their certain friends for fear of uncertain ene- 
mies. Wickedness is ever suspicious and cowardly, it 
makes men fear where no fear is — makes them (lee 
when none pursucth. David saith, '' I will not be afraid 
for ten thousand of the people who have set them- 



ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 45 

selves against me round about." Pharaoh, " If there be 
war, they may join with our adversaries." Was not 
this fear, if it really did exist, a motive for his treating 
them with kindness 1 Ought he not to have shown them 
favor, that they might have adhered steadfastly to his 
cause 1 That a people so great, so powerful, might 
have drawn their swords in his behalf 1 Weak and base 
minds ever incline to the least noble part; favors are 
more binding than cruelties j yet the Egyptians prefer 
a nation of slaves to friends. 

" Come on, let us work wisely." Evil men call wick- 
ed politics wisdom, and their success happiness, while 
themselves are the miserable dupes of sin, and of the 
great deceiver, who lays the plot and teaches his de- 
luded followers to choose villany and madness instead 
of true wisdom and virtue. 

Injustice is upheld by violence; task-masters are set 
over Israel; heavy burdens are laid upon them; the 
name of a slave is added to that of a stranger. Too pro- 
bable is it, that the children of Israel had sinned during 
their abode among an idolatrous nation, and that He 
whom they had offended, now made them suffer for their 
sins. Had they not deserved the burden of God's anger, 
they would not have borne the burdens of the Egyptians. 

But as God afflicted them with far different views 
than Pharaoh, (the one for their benefit, the other for 
their extinction,) so he caused the events to differ. 
Who would not have thought with these Egyptians 
that the extreme misery of Israel would have subdued 
and diminished themi God, who worketh according to 
liis almighty wisdom, causes them to grow with de- 
pression, with persecution to multiply ! How can his 
church be dispirited when the very malice of their ene- 
mies benefits them — when the goodness of their hea- 
venly Father turns even poisons into cordials 1 The 
vine which Thou broughtest up out of Egypt, God, 



46 hall's scripture history. 

flourished under the pruning-knife which sought to 
destroy it. 

And will not the Egyptians abhor their own malice 
when they see the prosperity of those whom they thus 
unjustly persecute! Alas, as the strength of Israel in- 
creased, so did the hatred of their inveterate enemies. 
Tyranny will try what can be done by the violence of 
others ; women must be suborned to be murderers ; the 
male children must be born and die at once. It is fault 
enough to be the son of an Israelite. Whosoever gives 
a loose to cruelty is easily carried into incredible ex- 
tremities of guilt. 

From burdens they proceed to bondage, and from 
bondage to blood. There is no sin more dangerous, 
more desperate, than that of malice ; but the power of 
tyrants often fails of answering their will. The pro- 
moters of mischief cannot always meet with equally 
mischievous agents. 

The fear of God teaches these w6men to disobey an 
unjust command : they well knew that human injunc- 
tions are not a sufficient excuse for atrocious acts. God 
spake to their hearts, " Thou shalt not kill." This voice 
was louder than that of Pharaoh — who, while he saw 
that they rebelled against his word, was prevented by 
Omnipotence from executing vengeance on them for 
refusing to comply with his impious dictates. 

But what the midwives will not do the multitude 
shall effect — it were strange if wicked rulers should not 
find some instruments of violence. All the people arc 
called upon to become executioners of a tyrant's wrath. 
Now doth cruelty flame up ; now dares it proclaim its 
odious purpose. It is a miserable state where every 
man is enjoined to be a murderer ! There can be no 
greater argument of a bad cause than a bloody per- 
secution. Truth upholds herself by mildness, and is 
promoted by patience. 



ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 47 

Such was their inhuman deed — what was the con- 
sequence 1 They who thus barbarously destroyed the 
children of the Israelites, by the just retribution of God, 
are deprived of their own children. They who caused 
these innocents to perish in the waters are themselves 
afterwards made to suffer in like manner. That law 
of retaliation which he does not permit his creatures to 
execute, himself with unerring justice can dispense. 
God would have us read our sins in our punishment, 
that we may at once repent of our transgressions and 
adore his righteous judgments. 

In the process of time another king of Egypt rises 
up, but to continue, not to deviate from the policy of 
his predecessor. The cruelties of the oppressor, the 
sufferings of the oppressed are the same. When at last 
he received a message from heaven commanding him 
to dismiss the people of God, then did his rage grow 
frantic : he was like the vapor in a cloud, which bursts 
with a fearful noise because it meets with opposition. 
A good heart yields to the still voice of God j but his 
merciful commands are treated with obdurate insolence 
by the wicked. Pharaoh takes pleasure in the servitude 
of Israel. God calls for a release; and requires what he 
knows will give displeasure to the tyrant whom he ad- 
dresses. How adverse are his precepts to unregene- 
rate souls ! It is a dangerous sign of an evil heart 
when God's yoke is deemed heavy. 

God speaks of sacrifice ; Pharaoh of work. To a car- 
nal mind nothing seems superfluous but religious du- 
ties. Christ tells us that there is one thing needful j the 
world insinuates that it is the only thing absolutely 
needless. God calls his people to devotion ; Pharaoh 
taxes them with idleness. While the wicked cast a 
specious veil over their own enormities they vilify the 
good actions of others. The same spirit which spake 
in Pharaoh now calls conscience singularity, and reli- 



4-8 hall's scripture history. 

gion hypocrisy. Every vice hath a title, and every 
virtue a disgrace. 

Yet while possible tasks were imposed there was 
some comfort. Diligence might then preserve them 
from indignities. But to require what is not — cannot 
be accomplished, is tyranny in the extreme; it is the 
very madness of cruelty. They who are above others 
in power, must measure their commands, not by their 
own will, but by the ability of their inferiors. Tho 
task is not done — the task-masters are beaten — the 
children of Israel sigh for anguish of spirit and for 
cruel bondage — and their cry comes up unto God. 



10.— MOSES BORN, AND CALLED. 

Many times doth God write presages of majesty and 
honor, even in the faces of children. This was emi- 
nently the case with Moses. Yet when his mother be- 
held her lovely babe with fear and anxiety, when she 
looked that some fierce Egyptian would come in and 
snatch him from her bosom, little did she think that 
she held in her arms the deliverer of Israel ! 

For a while she conceals him in her house from these 
messengers of death — but when she sees that her trea- 
sure can be no longer hid, she prepares him a bark of 
bulrushes and commits him to the mercy of the waves, 
to the protecting providence of God. 

Never was Moses in greater security, no not when 
myriads of Israelites pitched their tents around him in 
the wilderness, than now, when he was cast alone and 
feeble upon the waves — no water, no Egyptian can 
hurt him. Neither friend nor mother dares own him. 



MOSES BORN, AKD CALLED. 49 

and lo, God provides for his safety. When we seem 
most neglected and forlorn in ourselves, then is He 
most present, most vigilant. 

The daughter of Pharaoh, by an impulse from heaven, 
is directed to the river. The merciful offspring of a 
cruel father sees the ark, opens it, finds the child weep- 
ing. The persuasive oratory hath its efiect ; her heart 
is struck with compassion ; and the wife of Amram is 
herself appointed to receive her child, both with au- 
thority and reward. The exchange of the name of a 
mothe^r for that of a nurse hath gained her both her son 
and the care of his education, and the blessing of God 
gives her success. 

The generous princess considers him not as a wretch- 
ed outcast whom it was only necessary to keep alive — 
she educates him as her son, in all the learning, all the 
grandeur of Egypt. But no doubt his pious mother 
early taught him that the honors of courts and palaces 
were not to prevent him from taking a part in the sor- 
rows of Israel. If we had the faith of Moses we should 
make his choice. Infidelity binds us to the world, and 
makes us prefer the momentary pleasures of sin to the 
everlasting recompense of reward. 

He went forth and looked on the burdens of Israel. 
What needed Moses to have afllicted himself with the 
cfliictions of others 1 He was at ease and pleasure in 
the court of Pharaoh. But a good heart can neither en> 
dure to be happy alone nor forbear to participate with 
others in their miseries. He is no true Moses who is 
not moved with the calamities of God's church. To sec 
an Egyptian smite a Hebrew urged him to assert his 
divine commission. He supposed his brethren would 
have understood that God, by his hand, would deliver 
them. He avenged him that was oppressed ; he smcte 
the Egyptian. 

Another Hebrew is stricken, but by a Hebrew j and 

Script. Hist. 3 



50 HALL-^S SCRIPTURE IIISTOUY. 

now, instead of a deadly blow, Moses gives the aggres- 
sor a gentle admonition} reminds both parties of their 
common brotherhood and of their common adversities. 
The spirit of discord to this hour is equally active ; and 
christians, as if they had no foreign enemies, deal 
among each other every kind of destruction. While 
we ar,e in the Egypt of this world all unkind conten- 
tions would easily be composed if we did not forget 
that we are brethren. 

How bitter an answer doth Moses receive to this 
gentle reproof! None but the regenerate can say, " Let 
the righteous smite me, it shall be a kindness." Next to 
the not deserving a rebuke is the receiving it with hu- 
mility : but guilt makes a man easily provoked ; malice 
renders him incapable of good counsel ; and none are 
so great enemies to justice as those who are enemies 
to peace. 

" Wilt thou kill me as thou diJst theEgyptian 1" Had 
Moses slain him unjustly, what was this to the Hebrew 1 
Another man's sin is no excuse for ours. What matters 
it who admonishes us of our faults 1 Let us look into 
our own hearts ; let us weigh the advice given. If that 
be good it may remedy the evil, come whence it may. 
Yet, behold the providence of God by means of this 
angry Israelite gives intimation to his faithful servant 
of the danger that awaited him. The intended insult 
preserves the life of Moses; he is aware of the wrath 
of Pharaoh; he flees — he escapes. 

Still, wherever his footsteps lead him he is an advo- 
cate for innocence. In Egypt he delivered the oppressed 
Israelite; in Midian the oppressed daughters of Jethro. 
Charity and faithfulness accompany his path and follow 
him in all his ways. 

Now has Moses changed the delicacies of Egypt for 
hunger in the fields of Midian; it is a lesson which 
must be learned by all God's children, to want as well 



MOSES BORN, AND CALLED. \ 51 

ns to abound. But the act of justice he had so lately 
done brings with it a speedy recompense. Jethro re 
turns it kindly by hospitable entertainment. A good dis- 
position is ever ready to requite courtesies ; we cannot 
do too much for a thankful man. And if a generous 
heathen reward Moses in so bountiful a manner for giv- 
ing drink to his flock, how shall our God recompense a 
cup of cold water only that is given to a disciple 1 

Moses has now an asylum ; he obtains for a wife one 
of those damsels he had formerly protected. Jethro 
finds him valiant, wise, learned, nobly educated, and 
joyfully gives him his 'daughter. Yet all this kindness 
cannot make him forget the afflictions of his people; 
while absent from them he calls himself " A stranger 
in a strange land." If Moses so thought of his Egyp- 
tian home where was nothing but bondage and tyranny, 
how should we think of that our future, our glorious 
home, where is nothing but joy and blessedness. 

Yet was the deliverer of Israel forty years an hum- 
ble shepherd ; so long did the leader of God's people 
rest in contented obscurity, and willingly leave the 
world to others while he had freedom of thought ^nd 
full opportunity for holy meditation. He who hath re- 
sources in himself and can hold converse with God, 
can find more pleasure in the desert than others can 
do in the palaces of kings. 

While he is tending his sheep Jehovah appears to 
him, God addresses not the idle and inactive — when 
he finds us in our callings we find him in the tokens 
of his mercy. God was always present with Moses — 
but he was not seen till now. He is never absent from 
his children — sometimes he condescends to appear to 
the evidence of their senses. When we look on this 
burning bush with Moses, what a lively emblem do we 
see of the church which then in Egypt was suffering 
affliction ! a church persecuted but not forsaken j cast 



52 hall's scripture history, 

down but not destroyed ! The same power which en- 
lightens it preserves it, and to none but to liis eue- 
mies is he a consuming fire. 

In that appearance God nieant to call Moses; but 
when he is come he forbids his advancing too nearly. 
When we meditate on the glorious truths of his Gos- 
pel we come to him ; we come too near him when we 
pry into his mysterious counsels. The sun and fire 
forbid our immediate access ; how much more that 
Light which no man can approach 1 the weaves of the 
sea have not more need of bounds than mortal pre- 
sumption. 

Behold the patriarchs still live after so many years 
of dissolution. '' I am the God of Abraham, the God of 
Isaac, and the God of Jacob." No length of time can 
separate the souls of the just from their Maker. If he 
had said, " I am the glorious God that made heaven 
and earth; I dwell in light inaccessible, which the an- 
gels cannot behold; I am God the Avenger, jast and 
terrible, repaying vengeance to mine enemies;" then 
would the carnal heart have trembled. But to the up- 
right^ God is awful in his mercies. " There is forgive- 
ness with Thee, that Thou mayst be feared." The 
wicked heart regards not God but when thundering, 
or shaking the earth or raining fire from heaven ; the 
good can fear him in his very sunshine. Jacob, the true 
ancestor of Moses, when he saw nothing but visions of 
love and mercy, could say, " How dreadful is this 
place!" 

Behold the difference between our present and our 
future state ! There the more majesty of appearance 
the more delight. When our sin is gone, our fear as 
well as sorrow shall be turned into joy. God appeared 
to Adam in his innocence with comfort ; but the same 
form, after his fall, was insupportable. And if Moses 
cannot endure to look on his glory when he descends 



THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 53 

in mercy, how shall the wicked abide his fearful pre- 
sence when he ariseth to shake terribly the earth 1 



11.— THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 

That flesh and blood should receive a message from 
heaven is an act of condescension which passeth un- 
derstanding. Yet here "God sends an embassy to man, 
and is repulsed. Well may he ask, " What is man^ that 
I should look upon himV But for man to ask, " Who 
is the Lord!" is a proud and bold blasphemy. Pharaoh 
shall know in the event, and all the world by his means, 
who the Lord is whom he thus rejected. 

All God's judgments stand ready, and wait but till 
they are called for. They need but the word to be 
given them. No sooner is the rod lifted up than they 
are gone forth into the world. All the troops of God 
came rushing upon his adversaries. All creatures con- 
spire to take vengeance on the disobedient. Above 
them the Egyptians have thunder, lightning, hail, tem- 
pest ; at one time no light at all, at another such fear- 
ful flashes as had more terror than darkness. Under 
them the waters are changed into blood, the earth 
swarms with noisome reptiles and insects. They see 
their fruits destroyed, their cattle smitten, themselves 
afnicted with grievous sickness, their children suddenly 
snatched away by death. 

First, God begins his judgment with waters. They 
had defiled the river with the blood of innocents, and 
now it appears to them as a memorial of their guilt, 
a monument of their past cruelty, a presage of their 
future destruction. 



54 hall's scripture history. 

It is hard to say whether in this plague there were 
more horror or annoyance — yet the rod is lifted up 
again, and that Nilus which they adored becomes again 
their tormentor. Loathsome reptiles leave their element 
to punish the fury of the oppressors. Yet even this 
■wonder, as well as the preceding, the magicians are al- 
lowed to imitate. God makes use of his enemies as in- 
struments of vengeance — for himself he reserves his acts 
of mercy. 

Still Pharaoh is hardened and the sorcerers insolent. 
Behold, while this pride is at its height they are in a 
moment brought into confusion. The rod is lifted up — 
the dust receives life — lice abound every where — no 
distinction is made between beggars and princes: the 
rivals of Moses are foiled and abashed ; thej^^ are com- 
pelled to exclaim, *' This is the finger of God." 

The water was annoyed by the first plague, the earth 
by the second and third. The fourth fills the air, the 
winged army of an indignant God. He who gave these 
hornets a being, gave them their limits ; they can nei- 
ther sting an Israelite nor spare an Egyptian. 
I And now the heart of Pharaoh begins to melt. " Go, 
serve your God in this land — Go into the wilderness, 
but not far away !" Alas, how soon does he return to 
his rebellion ! Good resolutions, in carnal hearts, are 
merely transient guests. Now neither the contagion of 
his cattle nor the pestilential boils of his people can 
move him. To what a height of obduracy will sin lead 
men, and most of all sins, infidelity ! Amidst these 
storms Pharaoh sleeps till he is roused by the voice of 
God's mighty thunders and hail mingled with fire. 

Then he starts and exclaims, "God is righteous; I 
and my people are wicked ; pray for us !" But the 
thunder is no sooner over than he relapses into his dis- 
obedience. Again the plague of the locusts startles 
hina ; for when he considers the fish destroyed with the 



THE PLAGUES OF EGiTT. 55 

first plague, the cattle with the fifths the corn with the 
seventh, the fruit and leaves with this eighth, and 
nothing left him but a bare desolate earth to live on, 
necessity drives him into a temporary submission. 
" Forgive me this once ; take away from me this death 
only." 

Constrained repentance is short and fruitless. The 
west wind, with the locusts, drives away his remorse — 
and now he is ready for another judgment. Now a gross 
darkness, a darkness real and sensible, takes away the 
sight of heaven. Now they imagine that the sun is lost 
out of the firmament ahd withdrawn for ever; that all 
things are returning to their original confusion when 
darkness was on the face of the deep. All think them- 
selves miserable, past remedy; whilst the obduracy of 
Pharaoh is changed into desperation. '' Get thee from 
me, see my face no more ; when thou seest my face 
thou shalt die." What is this but to seek for the pun- 
ishment and fly from the remedy! When God's mes- 
sen<yers are abandoned destruction is near. Moses will 
see him no more till he behold him dead upon the sands, 
while God reserves his last and most fearful plague for 
the conclusion. 

In one night, in one instant,, every house hath in it a 
breathless corpse. No man could comfort another. Every 
one is too full of his own sorrow, and the cry of the city 
ascends to heaven. Now are the Egyptians as importu- 
nate in entreating their guests to depart as they were 
before peremptory in their refusal. Now they freely be- 
stow on them their rich jewels, the well-earned recom- 
pense of their past labor, the support of their present 
journey. God's people staid like slaves : they go avvay 
like conquerors, with the spails of those that hated 
them — armed for security and wealthy for maintenance. 

Far different is the state of Israel since their proge« 
riitor went with his staff and his scrip over Jordan, lu 



5d hall's scripture history. 

spite of their bondage and bloodshed they go forth six 
hundred thousand men. Tyranny itself is too weak 
where God bids increase and multiply. Lo, that very 
night, when the time appointed is expired, Israel is 
gone J and the same God who brought them out, is 
their guide and protector ; choosing their way, not with 
respect to what is nearest, but what is safest. He 
would not have his people so suddenly change from 
bondage to war. 

And as he chooses^ so he guides their journey. That 
they might not err in the pathless desert, he himself 
goes before them. Who could but follow cheerfully 
when God leads the way 1 He who conducted the 
wise men by a star, guides Israel by a cloud. Thai was 
a higher object, therefore he gave them a heavenly 
signal. This was more earthly, therefore he contents 
himself with a lower representation of his presence. A 
pillar of clouds and fire — a pillar for firmness, of clouds 
and fire for visibility and use. The greater light extin- 
guishes the less. In the day he shows them not fire, 
but a cloud ; in the night he shows them not the cloud, 
but fire. The one guards them against the heat of day, 
the other against the cold vapors of the night. The 
same God is a cloud and fire to his children, showing 
himself to them in such form as best suits their ne- 
cessities. 

i No sooner are the Israelites gone than Pharaoh de- 
termines to bring them back, though at the hazard of 
more plagues from God. The Egyptians knew that the 
Hebrews were not trained up for war, that they were 
weary with their journey and long servitude, while 
themselves were soldiers by profession, furnished with 
horses, and with chariots of iron. They give them- 
selves, therefore, the victory already, and the very Is- 
raelites are talking of their graves. They behold the 
sea before them, behind them the Egyptians j they know 



THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 57 

not which is most merciless, and are stricken with the fear 
of both. O God, thy patience is no less a miracle than 
thy power ; they had seen thy wonders in Egypt and in 
Goshen, they saw thy pillar even now before them, 
and yet did they more fear Egypt than believe thee! 
But still thou dost undertake the defence of thy people. 
Thy cloudy pillar removes and stands between the Is- 
raelites and the Egyptians, as if thou wouldst exclaim, 
^' They shall overcome me, O Israel, ere they injure 
thee." Wonder now strove with fear among the peo- 
ple, when they saw the cloud move behind them, the 
sea retreat before them. They w'ere not used to si.ch 
bulwarks. Jehovah stood behind them in the cloud j 
the sea reared them up walls on either side — that which 
they feared would be their destruction protected them. 
How easily can God make his most terrible creatures 
our friends and patrons! 

Pharaoh sees all this, and wonders ; yet thinks he 
not that God hath made a difference between him and 
Israel, nor sees w^hy he may not trust the sea as well as 
they. Lo, till he and his host arrive in the midst of the 
now dry channel, not one wave may rise against them j 
but when they are too far to return they are stricken 
with their last terror. God pursues them, and they 
cannot fly from him. The sea shows them that it re- 
gards the rod of Moses, not the sceptre of Pharaoh. It 
swallows them up in its waves and casts them upon its 
sand for a spectacle of triumph to their adversaries, 
who now magnify God for their deliverance, and ex- 
change their cries of terror for songs of exultation. 



Z* 



58 



1-2.— ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS. 



God taught his people by actions as well as by words. 
While they follow Moses through the wilderness, 
whom they followed through the sea, he who called 
them to the land of promise gives them at the entrance 
on their journey thirst and bitterness. The ways of sin 
appear pleasant in the beginning, but are afterwards 
full of misery. Holiness inures us to the worst at first, 
and sweetens our conclusion with pleasure. O thou, 
who hast undertaken to conduct us to our better coun- 
try, how faithful, how powerful do we find thee! How 
fearlessly should we trust thee ! How cheerfully should 
we follow thee through contempt, poverty, death itself! 
"Master, if it be thou, bid us come unto thee." 
' Yet none have on earth such bitter draughts as those 
whom God loves best. He w ill not expose his flock to the 
clangers of war, but he delays not to make trial of their 
patience at the waters of Marah. Savior, thou didst 
drink a more bitter cup from the hand of thy Father 
than that which thou didst refuse at the hand of the 
Jews, or than that which we can drink from thee ! 

The Israelites, instead of praying to God, murmur 
against Moses — yet what hath the righteous done 1 He 
made not either the wilderness dry or the waters bitter. 
The presence of God went before them, yet Moses is 
murmured at. It is the hard fate of those in authority, 
that when the multitude arc prosperous they praise 
themselves ; when they are unfortunate, they blame 
their governors. W^ho shall hope to be free, if Moses 
escape not 1 Behold, the first occasion of want makes 
the Israelites rebels. No benefits can stop the mouth 
of ingratitude. One year of famine, one month of un- 
seasonable weather, one week of pestilence, makes us 
overlook all the variety of blessings we receive from 
God ', and we charge our Maker foolishly. 



ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS. ^9 

Moses takes the course that they should have done, 
he prays fervently to God, and pours out his heart to 
one who never lets his servants cry to him in vain. No 
sooner hath he shown his sorrows, than God shows a 
remedy; yet a remedy of such a miraculous kind as 
demonstrates that all things are subject to the com- 
mand of their Creator. 

The thirst of Israel is quenched, and now they com- 
plain of hunger. While their provision lasted they 
were content to pray for their daily bread ; but when 
this fails, their faith fails in proportion. They should 
have said, " He that commanded the sea to guard us, 
can as easily command the earth to nourish iis ; he 
who made the rod a serpent, can make these stones 
bread. Why do we not rely on him whom we have 
found so powerful!" Nature is cheerful in the sun- 
shine of prosperity — is never weary of receiving; 
but when the sky is overcast and the clouds of afflic- 
tion intervene, faith and hope are lost amidst the mur- 
murs of impatience j ''Would to God that we had died 
in Egypt !" 

When the anger of the Lord might have been expect- 
ed in fire, his glory appears in a cloud. He who heard 
their murmurings, instead of punishing, gratifies them. 
They desired meat, and have quails ; they desired bread, 
and have manna. What a table did God prepare in the 
desert ! Never was prince so served in his greatest 
pomp, as these rebellious Israelites in the wilderness. 
How bounteous is our God to those that please him, 
who is thus liberal even to offenders ! O how plentiful, 
Lord, is thy goodness," which thou hast laid up for them 
that fear thee, and that thou hast prepared for them 
that put their trust in thee, even before the sons of 
men ! Lord, thy mercy is not shortened to give j 
quicken thou our hearts, lift up our hands, open o\\t 
mouths in prayer and praise, 



60 hall's scripture history. 

\ et though God will relieve thern with provision, he 
will punish their impatience; they shall know themselves 
to be his people ; but they shall feel that they were 
mutinous. It is a fearful thing to abuse the lenity of 
God. His mercy is abundant ; but his justice will not 
always sleep. It is through our own infatuation if we 
do not take warning. 

To find flesh in the wilderness is unusual ; but 
for bread to come down from heaven was still more 
"wonderful. They had seen quails before, manna they 
never beheld till now. What an assemblage of miracles 
was here ! In its quantity, in its place, in its composi- 
tion, in its quality, in the difference of its fall on the 
eve of the Sabbath, in its preservation in the ark, m 
its continuance, in its cessation. When they came to 
taste the bread of Canaan, it then withdrew itself, as if 
it had said, " ye need no miracles now ye have means." 

They had the types; we have the substance. In this 
wilderness of the world the true manna is rained upon 
our hearts. We know who hath said, ^' I am the bread 
that came down from heaven." All their meals were 
spiritual ; every morsel they did eat was sacramental — 
and we, in the true Sabbath of our glorious rest, shall 
for ever feed on that manna which we have gathered in 
this our day of preparation. 

Still God observes a vicissitude of evil and good; 
lo, the Israelites thirst again at the rock of Rephidim. 
When we see our afflictions removed from us for a 
season, we must expect the possibility of their return. 

O the presumption of that bold inquiry, " Is the 
Lord among us or no]" What could God do more to 
convince them of his presence, when every moment 
brought with it a new miracle 1 The plagues of Egypt 
and the division of the sea were noised abroad even to 
Jericho. Their waters were lately made sweet ; quails 
had been sent them as the sand of the sea ; the manna 



ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS. 61 

was showered on them from heaven ; they saw the pillar 
of the cloud ! and yet they say, '' Is the Lord among 
us 1" No argument is enough to an incredulous heart. 
If they are most blessed who have not seen and yet 
have believed, how lamentable is their state who close 
their eyes against the beams of light — whose obduracy 
is proof against reason, sense, and experience ! 

But such is the deep ingratitude of carnal minds. If 
they prosper, (even in wickedness,) they assert that God 
is with them. If they are thwarted in their designs, they 
distrust, and murmur, and mutiny. In their want, they 
lament his absence — in their sin, they wish for it; and 
yet wickedness, rather than affliction, argues him to 
have turned away his face^— for then is he most present 
when he most chastises. 

There is no expostulating with an unreasonable mul- 
titude ; Moses flies to Him who was able to quench 
their thirst and their fury. Wisely do we betake our- 
selves to Heaven in cases of doubt and danger. We 
shall find difficulties in all great enterprises. If we dare 
beg God to prosper them, we may securely cast all 
events upon his providence, who knows both how to 
dispose and how to end them. 

In these perilous circumstances a less courageous 
leader would have thought of flight. Moses betakes him- 
self to prayer — and that not for revenge, but help. We 
hear him not exclaiming, '^ Twice have they mutinied 
and been pardoned; yet lo, again they madly rebel — 
preserve me and punish Mem, O Lord !" On the contrary 
he seeks to God in their behalf; he imitates the mercy 
and long-suftering of his Creator; he prays, and his 
prayer is heard. 

" Take thy rod wherewith thou smotest the river." 
Thus doth the Almighty vouchsafe to strengthen the 
faith of his servant ; who might well expect this wonder, 
from that which he had tried, to be miraculous. No- 



6*2 

thing confirms the regenerate heart more than the re- 
collection of past mercies. The rod, which had turned 
the waters into blood and the sea into a rampart, opens 
the rock of stone and the waters flow out — to convince 
and to shame the infidelity of Israel. 

And now, unless their hearts had been more obdurate 
than the rock, tears of penitential sorrow must have 
burst from their eyes. Now the water they drink, as 
well as the bread they eat, is typical and figurative. 

The rock that followed them was Christ. From him 
proceed those living waters whereby the thirst of all 
true believers is refreshed. Let us but thirst, O Lord, 
not with repining, but with faith, those streams shall 
abundantly flow into our souls, and follow us, till the 
water be changed into that new wine which we shall 
drink with thee in the kingdom of thy Father! 



13.— THE LAW. 

What a wonderful agreement do we find between the 
two testaments ! In the very time of their delivery there 
is the same coincidence as in their substance. The an- 
cient Jews kept our festivals and we keep theirs. The 
feast of the passover is the time of Christ's resurrection, 
when he rescued our human nature from the bondage 
of death. Christ himself is our paschal lamb, a bone 
whereof must not be broken. On the very day wherein 
the Almighty came down in flame and thunders to de- 
liver the law, came down the Holy Ghost on the disci- 
ples in fiery tongues, for the promulgation of the Gos- 
pel. The first in fire and smoke, where obscurity was 
mingled with terror — the last in a bright fire, denoting 
the light and clearness of the Gospel — fire, not in flashee, 



THE LAW. 63 

but in tongues — not to terrify, but to instruct. Tbe pro- 
clamation of the law makes way for the reception of a 
better covenant. 

The contagion of the sins of Egypt still adhered to 
Israel — from this they must now be purified. God re- 
quires preparation on the part of his people, that they 
may be fitted for hearing his commandments. If such 
previous holiness was necessary, that the Israelites might 
receive the law, what manner of persons ought we to be 
that we may obtain the mercy promised in the Gospel 1 

Neither must ihemseives only be purified, but their 
very garments ; that by this outward act they might 
learn with what souls to appear before their Creator. 
The God of spirits looks to the inner man, and requires 
more especial sanctity where we most resemble him- 
self. '' Come out from among them, and be ye separate, 
and touch not the unclean thing, and I will receive you, 
and will be a father unto you, and ye shall be my sons 
and daughters," saith the Lord Almighty. 

Thus washed, thus sanctified, they are still prohibited 
from approaching the mount. God expects from his 
creatures the fear as well as the love of children. He 
would have us acquaint ourselves with him in the path 
of obedience ; but he is awful in his ordinances — he 
wills us to tremble at his word and judgments. 

Behold the difl^erence betwixt the law and the Gos- 
pel ! There, the very hill where God appeared might 
not be touched by the purest Israelites ; here, the mul- 
titude thronged the Savior and pressed him ; j^ea, his 
very face was not withdrawn even from the impious 
Judas. There, the earth on which he descended was 
prohibited them. Here, his body and blood are ofiered 
to our acceptance. O marvellous kindness of our God ! 
How ungrateful are we, if we acknowledge not this pre- 
eminence over his ancient people ! They who were 
his own were strangers in comparison of our liberty. 



64- HALL'S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

It is our shame and sin if we are no better acquainted 
with our heavenly Father than they who, in the time of 
his immediate intercourse with man, \vere not permit- 
ted to approach the mnjesty of his glory. 

God is ever wonderful in his works and fearful in his 
judgments — but he was never so terrible in the execu- 
tion of his will, as now in the proviul gation of it. Here 
was nothing but a display of grandeur in the eyes, in 
the ears of the Israelites, as if God meant to show them 
by this how dreadful he could be. Here was the light* 
ning darted in their eyes, the thunders roaring in their 
ears, the heavenly trumpet drowning the thunderclaps, 
the voice of God out-speaking the trumpet of the angel, 
the cloud encircling Sinai, the smoke ascending, the 
fire flaming, the mountain trembling, paleness and death 
in the face of Israel, and all the glory of heaven turned 
into terror. In the destruction of the first world there 
were clouds — in the destruction of Sodom there was 
fire — but here were fire, smoke, clouds, thunder, earth- 
quakes, and whatsoever might work more astonishment 
than was ever in any vengeance inflicted. 

And if the law were thus given, how shall it be re- 
quired ? If such were the proclamation of God's statutes, 
what shall be his tribunal] I see and tremble at the 
resemblance. The trumpet of an angel called to the 
one, the voice of the archangel and the trumpet of 
God shall summon us to the other. Of the one, Moses, 
who alone witnessed it, saith, " God came with the 
multitude of his saints" — in tlie other, thousand thou- 
sands shall minister unto him, and ten thousand times 
ten thousand shall stand before him. In the one. Mount 
Sinai only was in a flame — all the world shall be so in 
the other. In the one, there were thunders and fires — in 
the other, a fiery stream shall proceed from him, where- 
by the elements shall melt with fervent heat — the hea- 
vens and earth shall be dissolved— they shall flee away» 



THE LAW. 65 

and have no place. O God, how powerful art thou to 
execute vengeance upon sinners, who didst thus forbid 
ein 1 If thou wert so terrible a Lawgiver, what a Judge 
shalt thou appear % What shall be their doom who are 
guilty of transgressing that law, whose very delivery 
was little less than deaths If God exact his law in the 
rigor with which it was given, alas, who may abide if? 
But happy are they whom the Gospel hath rescued 
from the terrors of that law, which was given in fire, 
and in fire shall be required. 

God would have Israel see that they had not a Go- 
vernor whose commands mi2:ht be neorlected or trifled 
with — and therefore, before he gives his people a law, 
he shows them that he can command heaven, earth, 
water, fire, air, by the mere signification of his will — 
thus teaching them that it was a fearful thing to dis- 
please such a Legislator, or violate such statutes-— 
while they beheld the elements examples of that obe- 
dience which man should always yield to his Maker. 

This fire wherein the lav/ was given, remains in it, 
and will never depart — hence are those terrors which it 
flashes in every man's conscience who hath felt remorse 
for sin. Every man's heart is a Sinai, and resembles to 
him both heaven and hell. The sting of death is sin, 
and the strength of sin is the law. 

O royal law and mighty Lawgiver ! How could they 
think of having any other God, who had such evidence 
of the divine power of the God of Israel 1 How could 
they think of making any resemblance of him whom they 
could not see, but whom they knew to be infinite 1 How 
could they dare to profane his name, who proclaimed 
himself to them by the incommunicable name of Jeho- 
vah 1 How could they refuse to observe his sacred day, 
when they saw him command those luminaries by which 
days and years are measured 1 How could they refuse 
to render honor and fear to those who derive their an- 



66 hall's scripture history. 

thorily from God, when they saw him able to assert his 
own, and maintain that of his vicegerents upon earth 1 
How could they think of killings when they were so 
strongly afTected with the fear of Him who thus mani- 
fested himself able to save and to destroy] How could 
they think of the flames of impure desires^ who beheld 
such fires of vengeance 1 How could they think of sieai- 
i?ig from others, when they saw who was Lord of hea- 
ven and earth, from whom their neighbor derived all 
his possessions! How could they think o( speaking false- 
ly, when they heard the God of truth speak in so tre- 
mendous a voice % How could they think of coveting 
what was another's, when they saw how weak and un- 
certain a right they had to what was their own! 

Lord, to us was the moral law delivered, as well as to 
them. The letter and ceremonial is passed away ; the 
spirit remains, and shall remain to the end of time. There 
had not been such state in thy promulgation of it, if thou 
hadst not intended it for eternity. How should we, who 
comply with human laws to avoid some trifling forfeit- 
ure, how should we fear Thee, God, who art able to 
cast both soul and body into hell 1 



U.—THE VEIL OF x^IOSES. 

Scarce a month was past since the Israelites made a 
covenant with Jehovah — since they trembled to hear 
him say, '' Thou shalt have no other gods but me " 
— and now they say, " Make us gods to go before us." 
O ye senseless Israelites, have you so soon forgotten 
that fire and thunder \ Is that smoke vanished out of 
your viind as well as your sight! Can ye, in the very 



THE VEIL OF MOSES. 67 

face of Sinai, call for other gods 1 Can ye presume to 
say, ye know not what is become of Moses 1 Did he not 
rush for your sakes into the midst of those flames 
which ye feared to see afar off] Had he fled away from 
you into the wilderness, what could ye have done more 1 
But if he had indeed been gone for ever, must ye there- 
fore have gods made 1 If ye had said, " Choose us anoth- 
er governor," it had been ungrateful and senseless ; but 
to say, " Make us gods," was absurdly impious. The pre- 
sence of God depended not on that of Moses — still ye 
beheld him, though his servant was absent, in his pillar 
and in his manna. Oh the ingratitude of carnal minds! 
Who would not have said,'' Moses is not with us, but he 
is with God for us — he stays long — God, who called 
him, withholds him — his delay is for our sakes, as well 
as his ascent. Though we see him not, we will hope for 
him — or if God will keep him from us, he can supply the 
loss, or conduct us without him. His fire and cloud are 
all-sufficient. We will, we can have no other God — we 
desire not any other guide." Thus would faith and hope 
have argued. Natural men will have God himself sub- 
servient to their wayward wishes, and if they are disap- 
pointed, will cast him off — while his true disciples wait 
long and seek him — not only in their sinking, but from 
the bottom of the deeps call upon him, and though he 
slay them, will put their trust in him. 

Behold, our better Moses was with us a while upon 
earth ; he is now ascended up to the heights of heaven 
to intercede and mediate for us. Shall we now think 
of another Savior 1 Shall we not hold it our happiness 
that he is for our sakes above 1 

Sudden fears, when they have possessed weak minds, 
lead them into shameful errors. Aaron, who alone fol- 
lowed Moses into the trembling and fiery hill of Sinai, 
and heard God say, *' Thou shalt not make to thyself 
any graven image, for I am a jealous God" — this very 



68 HALL'S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

Aaron calls for the ear-rings of the Israelites, makes a 
graven image, raises an altar, consecrates a day to it, 
calls it their God, and weeps not to see them dance be- 
fore it. The very gold of Egypt is contagious j the 
ornaments which were bestowed on Israel in their 
flight, are perverted to the idolatry of the first owners. 
The sin was deep and grievous — this idolatry is shame* 
ful ; he whom they had offended sends down Moses to 
remedy their sin. 

Never was there so precious a record as that which 
Moses now held in his hand. How then durst he fail in 
his trust to that God whose pledge he had received 
with awe and reverence 1 Alas, while we are in the 
body of sin nothing can bereave us of infirmity. He 
who was the meekest on earth, in sudden indignation 
abandons that which in a calmer moment he would 
have held dearer than his life. He forgets the law 
written^ when he sees it broken^ and is more anxious to 
deface the idol than to preserve the tables. The good- 
ness of God pardons the indiscretion of honest zeal, and 
doth not consider the failings of our mortal weakness 
as an imputation on our fidelity. Lo ! he entrusts Moses 
with his second law, because he saw sincerity of heart 
even in his errors. 

But lately did Moses fast forty days — again he goes 
up to Sinai, and takes not any repast with him. His 
meat and drink was to do the will of Him that sent 
him ; he goes up confidently, in the sure trust that God 
was with him. There is no life comparable to that of 
faith — man does not live by bread only. The vision of 
God satisfied and feasted his servant. How perfect, 
how glorious will be that state of existence, when we 
shall behold Him as he is, if the frail mortality of 
Moses was sustained and comforted with only the re- 
presentation of his presence ! 

We see Moses, who received the law, Elias, who 



THE VEIL OF MOSES. 69 

restored it, and Christ, who fulfilled it, all fasting forty 
days ; and we find them together in glory on Mount 
Tabor. Abstinence has no nnerit in itself; but it is in 
many cases a preparation for holy duties. Hence so- 
lemn prayer takes fasting to attend it, and speeds more 
swiftly to heaven when it is so accompanied. 

When Moses came down first from Sinai, his eyes 
sparkled with anger and his face glowed with zealous 
indignation — now it is bright with glory. Before, there 
were the flames of fury in it ; now, the beams of majes- 
ty. The more familiarly we become acquainted with 
God, the more do we partake of his nature. How did 
the heart of Moses shine with illumination while his 
face was thus enlightened ! 

That which should have comforted the Israelites 
afirights them. Aaron himself, who went up into the 
mount to see and speak with God, is now afraid of him 
who hath seen God. Such a fear there is in guilt, such 
a security in innocence. When the soul is free from 
sin it shall fly to that glory with joy, the least glimpse 
of which now appals it, and sends it away in terror. 

Moses marvels to see Israel run away from their 
guide, as from an enemy ; and not knowing the cause 
of their consternation, invites, exhorts them to return. 

'^0 my people, whom do ye fearl It was for your 
sakes I ascended Sinai — for you I staid — for you I came 
down. Here are no armed Lcvites to strike you, no 
Amalekites nor Egyptians to pursue you, no fires nor 
thunders to dismay you. I have not the rod of God in 
my hand, which ye have seen command the elements. 
Or if I had, so far am I from proposing any rigor 
against you, that even now I have in your behalf ap- 
peased the wrath of the Almighty ; and lo ! here is the 
pledge of his reconciliation. God sends me to you for 
good 5 and do ye thus quit your best friend ] Whither 
will ye go, either /row me or without me ? At least stay 



70 HALLOS SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

and hear the commandments of that God from whom 
ye cannot flee." 

They perceive his voice the same, though his face 
was changed — they are persuaded to stay, to return, to 
hear him whom they dare not see — and now, after many 
doubtful steps advancing nearer, take courage to tell 
him he was grown too glorious. 

Moses, finding they could not look on the sun of his 
face, clouds it with a veil ; choosing rather to hide 
the work of God in him, than to want opportunity 
of revealing the divine will to Israel. He urges not, 
that if there were glory in his face, God placed it there 
— that he would not have placed it so conspicuously 
had he meant it to be concealed. He does not bid them 
hide their faces rather, which are blemished with their 
sin ; but modestly conceals his own radiance, and seeks 
nothing but that his words might pierce into their ears. 
It is good for a man sometimes to hide his graces, and 
not always to live at the utmost pitch of his strength. 
The patriarch had more glory by his veil than by 
his face. 

Many a precious jewel is deposited in the bosom of 
the earth ; many a pearl lies hidden in the abyss of wa- 
ters — many a star, by reason of its height, is scarcely 
visible to the eye. How did our true Moses, in the veil 
of his flesh, conceal the glory of his deity, and not only 
lay aside his majesty, but put on our weakness, con- 
cluding his divine miracles with the charge, " See thou 
tell no man!" Now, as the veil of God, which hid his 
presence in the holy of holies, was rent when the Sa- 
vior exclaimed, '* It is finished," so the veil of Moses 
was at the same moment pulled off. We daily see 
Christ, the completion of the law — Israel would not 
look to the end of that which should be abolished. 

When Moses went to speak with God, he pulled off 
his veil, presenting to the Almighty the face he had 



KORAH. 71 

first made, and afterwards made glorious. Hypocrites 
observe a contrary procedure. They show their best to 
men, their v:orst to God — but God sees both their veil 
and their face ; and beholds, with equal abhorrence, ihcif 
veil of dissimulation and their face of wickedness. 



J5.— KORAH. 

Scarcely had Israel ceased to feel the punishment 
of their last act of disobedience when they offend yet 
more deeply. The multitude is a raging sea, full of the 
unquiet billows of discontent. While God only threat- 
ened them they became bold in their sin ; it was time 
they should be made acquainted with the terrors of his 
wrath. Other warnings failed of their effect ; at last the 
Almighty had recourse to the arrows of his heaviest 
indignation. 

In the mean time how was the peace of Moses de- 
stroyed by these successive acts of rebellion in his peo- 
ple ! Danger and calumny were the rewards of his la- 
borious government. Alas, far more peaceful was his 
lot amidst the sheep of Jethro, than with these wolves 
of Israel. But, as he dared not quit his crook without 
the authority of heaven, so neither will he resign his 
sceptre till he be dismissed by him who called him j no 
troubles, no oppositions will tempt him to forego his 
duty. Who shall chase the servant of God from that 
station in which he is placed by his Maker 1 

^Moses is the prince of Israel, Aaron the priest; the 
one was mild, the other popular; they were brethren in 
office as well as in blood, yet both are conspired against, 
both are opposed at once. Ecclesiastical and civil trea- 



72 hall's scripture history. 

sons are too frequently found to inhabit the same bosom. 
There cannot be conceived an honor ^vhich tended 
less to excite envy, than this principality of Israel; a 
people who could bestow nothing, who had nothing 
themselves but in distant reversion ; a people whom 
their leader, as the vehicle of God's mercies, sustained 
with miraculous bread and water ; a people, the care of 
whom was only a burden ; and who repaid the greatest 
benefits with the deepest ingratitude. And yet this dig- 
nity renders Moses obnoxious to Korah and his com- 
panions. Nature is ever envious and disdainful, and loves 
to undermine those walls which it cannot scale. Three 
traitors, on the most frivolous pretences, seduce from 
their allegiance two hundred and fifty rulers, famous in 
the congregation, men of renown. 

Nothing can be more pleasing to the populace than to 
hear their governors slandered and themselves unjustly 
praised. "All the congregation is holy, every one of 
them. Wherefore lift ye up yourselves 1" Every word 
of the charge is false. Moses sought to abase himself. 
It was God that exalted him over Israel. And in propor- 
tion to the arrogance of Moses was the holiness of his 
adversaries! It was a tissue of infidelity, cowardice, 
idolatry, envy, mutiny and disobedience. If this be ho- 
liness, where shall we seek for impiety 1 The vengeance 
of God was even now fresh in their memory — vengeance 
drawn on them by repeated offences against the Majesty 
of heaven — and yet these miscreants say, '' All Israel 
is holy !" 

I\Ioses argues not for himself, but has recourse to 
God; and the same tongue that appeals against the con- 
spirators prays for the people. Korah had so far pre- 
vailed that he had seduced the multitude to his side. 
And now God, jealous of his insulted honor, threatens 
to exterminate them at once, when he is addressed in 
their behalf by that priest and by that prophet against 



KORAH. 73 

whom their tumultuous outcries were directed. Moses 
and Aaron were more sensible of the injuries done to 
religion than to themselves ; they were well aware that 
these traitors deserved only death; and yet they could 
not endure the thought of obtaining tranquillity by the 
sufferings of their enemies. The people rise up against 
their governors. The governors fall prostrate before 
God and implore his mercy on the people ; so far are 
they from meditating revenge that they prevail with 
their heavenly Avenger to suspend the stroke of his 
indignation. 

Korah kindled the fire^-two hundred and fifty princes 
spread the flames — all the congregation repair to the 
pernicious light — but only the incendiaries perish. In 
the midst of God's most tremendous anger he can dis- 
tinguish between the depravity of the seducers and the 
ignorance and folly of those whom they mislead. Now 
do the Israelites owe their life to them whose authority 
they denied, whose destruction they meditated. "Get 
you up from the tabernacles of Korah." The very so- 
ciety of wicked men, especially in their sins, is full of 
the most alarming danger. If we will not separate our- 
selves from them we must expect to be involved in their 
condemnation. By associating with them we share in 
their crimes j what marvel if we share in their punish- 
ment 1 

As yet it was not too late : had Korah even now ac- 
knowledged his complicated guilt, the uplifted arm of 
vengeance would not have fallen. But the presumptu- 
ous traitor and his associates stand boldly in their tents, 
as if they would out-face the vengeance of God — as if 
Moses had never wrought a miracle before them — as 
if no one Israelite had ever bled for rebelling. Pride and 
infidelity harden the heart and make even cowards 
presumptuous. 

As soon as the more innocent are departed the guilty 

Script. Hist. ^ 



7i HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

perish. The ground cleaves asunder and swallows up 
the rebels ! To have seen them stricken dead in the 
moment of their sin had been fearful ; but to see the 
earth at once their executioner and their grave, was 
still more horrible. All the elements conspire to obey 
their Creator. Both sea and earth close their jaws upon 
the adversaries of God. Now might Israel see against 
whom they had exalted their voice and lifted up their 
eyes on high. 

It is dangerous to usurp sacred functions : the mi- 
nistry will not protect the man ; the man may disgrace 
the ministry. Nadab and Abihu brought unhallowed 
fire — Korah and his company unhallowed persons — both 
perish by the just judgment of God. 

The common people, who had assembled by the flat- 
tering persuasions of these rebels, now run with terror 
from the sight of their doom ; not trusting the very 
earth they stood on, while they knew their hearts had 
been false. Blessed arc they who flee from sin and not 
from punishment. 

But, alas, when shall we see an end of these murmur- 
ings and the ensuing judgments! Because Korah re- 
belled he was consumed with his associates ; because 
they were consumed, the people rise up against Moses 
and Aaron ; and again judgment falls on them for their 
disobedience — wrath is gone out from the Lord: the 
plague is begun. 

Moses, though the beloved of God, dares not take 
upon himself this reconciliation. He knew that it was 
the priesfs ofHce to make atonement for the people. 
Aaron only must ofler up the incense of public prayer 
to God ; Aaron, whom these rebels had rejected with 
contempt, can alone prevent the general destruction. 

The holy man, armed with the shield of his proper 
ministry, presents himself before an avenging God ; as 
if he had said, *' Smite me^^ O Lord, or spare thy dclud- 



BALAAM. 75 

ed Israel !" He stands boldly between the living and 
the dead, as if he would either die with the one or 
would have the other live with him. The ministers of 
God must not regard their own perils in the general 
calamities of the church ; their prayers must ascend to 
heaA-en and arrest the stroke of vengeance. When the 
fire of God's anger is kindled their censers must smoke 
from the altar. Every christian must pray for the re- 
moval of the Divine indignation; much more they 
whom God hath appointed to mediate for his people. 
The atonement of Aaron found acceptance with the 
Almighty; he spared the offenders because he would 
not strike the intercessor. 

And if Aaron's sacrifice was thus efTectual, how 
much more shall the Mediator of a better covenant de- 
liver offenders from wrath 1 Thou, the great High Priest 
of our profession, didst thus stand between the dead 
and the living, that all who believe in thee should not 
perish. Aaron offered, and was not stricken ; but thou, 
Savior, wouldst offer, and even become the victim, 
that by thy stripes we might be healed — that we might 
be ransomed from the power of the grave. Thou art he 
that llvest and wast dead ; and behold thou art alive for 
evermore, who art also on the throne of God, who 
makest intercession for us. Amen. 



16.— B A LA AM. 

The destruction of the kings of the Amorites and of 
Bashan disturbs not Balak, till he beholds the conquer- 
ors encamped on the plains of Moab. They are encamp- 
ed, indeed, but without menace of hostility ; travellers, 



76 iull's scripture history. 

powerful to avenge themselves if injured, but neitlier 
invaders nor oppressors. Now he joins with Midian in 
consultation against them, and tries to effect their ruin 
by the tongue of Balaam. When other projects are in- 
effectual the magician is sought to. Why did not the 
king of Moab come to Israel with overtures of friend- 
ship 1 Why did he not reflect, "Either the God of Is- 
rael is 7?iore or less mighty than Chemosh 1 If less, why 
are we afraid of him? If more, why do we not serve 
him 1 The same hand which gives them victory can 
give us protection 1" 

The malicious reap no joy from their own prosperity 
while the objects of their hatred are prosperous. Had 
Balak desired nothing but security for Moah^ he would 
have requested a blessing from the prophet on his owa 
people ; not an execration upon Israel. Alas, if the curs- 
es of evil men could be effectual, the world would be 
darkness and desolation. The king of Moab shall learn 
that short is the power of Balaam ; that neither himself 
nor his prophet can avoid that vengeance which he 
seeks to bring down on the militant church of God. 

Let it not be matter of surprise to us, that the true 
God addresses himself to a false prophet. He may be- 
stow words where he will not bestow favor. It is not 
merely the sound of the Divine voice which publishes 
loving-kindness and mercy. He may speak to an 
enemy ; he speaks peace, only to his children. It is a 
vain boast, " God hath spoken to me." What spake he 1 
Did he say to thy soul, '' I am thy salvation 1" Did he 
make a covenant with thee, that he would be thy God, 
and that thou shouldst be his servant ( They that hear 
this voice have indeed a blessed foretaste of heaven. 

God prevents both the journey and the curse of Ba- 
laam. He, who knows how insufficient is the malice of 
wicked men, will not allow the king of Moab the poor 
encouragement he sought. Balak esteemed the sorcer- 



BALAAM. 77 

er a true prophet ; and Jehovah would not hare his 
name profaned among the heathen by the usurping it 
to a diabolical purpose. How many evils does the Al- 
mighty avert, of the existence of which we are igno- 
rant ! The sons of Jacob are at peace in their tents — 
they know not what is meditating against them — God 
alone hears, and derides, and brings to nought the 
counsels of their enemies. He that keepelh Israel 
maketh the devices of the wicked to be of none effect, 
and casteth out the counsels of the princes. 

The proflered rewards would at once have procured 
the presence and the curse of a covetous prophet, if 
God had not forbidden him. How often are wicked men 
checked by Divine Providence, even where they have 
every probability of success! Whence is it that the 
world is not over-run with evil, but because the good- 
ness of God endureth continually 1 

Balaam at first view appears wise and honest — he will 
not give a sudden answer — he demands leisure to con- 
sult with God, and declares he will be regulated by 
the word of the Almighty. But when he is called on 
to act^ he prevaricates and dissembles — suppresses the 
oracle of heaven, '' thou shalt not curse the people, for 
they are blessed" — insinuates his ov.n eagerness in the 
cause, and casts the blame of the prohibition on God, 
*' The Lord refuseth to give me leave to go with you." 

The message is not such as to make Balak despair 
of attaining the object of his wishes: more princes, and 
more honorable, form his second embassy. that we 
Vv'ere as solicitous to obtain the favor of heaven as 
wicked men are to strengthen their alliance w^ith the 
powers of darkness! Why do we faint in spiritual 
things when the gifts of God are not de?iieJ^ but de- 
layed 1 

How artful is falsehood when assuming the garb of 
truth ! Here was piety in the lips of Balaam, but covet- 



'78 Hall's scripture history. 

ousness in his heart. If he had not been disposed to 
listen to the king of Moab, why did he again apply 
to God after he had received so positive a refusal 1 If 
his mind had not been seduced already, why did he 
detain the messengers 1 why did he expect a change 
in God 1 why did he give hopes of success to those 
who gave him hopes of recompense 1 One prohibition 
is enough for a good man ; he dares not ask a second 
time what has once been peremptorily forbidden. 

Yet has this importunity obtained a permission, but 
a permission worse than a denial. Some things God 
tolerates in his indignation; not approving the act, but 
suffering the sinner to proceed in his path of disobe- 
dience. God commands Balaam to go, as Solomon di- 
rects the young man to walk in the way of his heart, 
and after the sight of his eyes. " My people would not 
hear my voice — would not obey me — so I gave them up 
to their own hearts' lusts, and let them follow their own 
imaginations." It is as if he had said, " Since thou art so 
eager f 01' the journey y be gone.^^ How much better is it 
to. have a gracious denial, than an angry acquiescence 
from God % 

Now does the covetous Balaam hasten on his way — 
now he makes himself sure of his success — his corrupt 
heart tells him, that as God had relented in one instance, 
he might also in another, and might give permission to 
curse. The night seems long to his impatience ; the 
prospect of wealth will not suffer him to sleep ; his 
eyes prevent the nightwatches, that he might be occu- 
pied in evil. 

It is no marvel that the anger of heaven should be 
excited against such criminal solicitude. God, who 
saw the heart of Balaam, saw what disposition reigned 
there ; he saw that his covetous desires and wicked 
hopes grew stronger the more nearly they seemed to 
approach to their completion ; he saw, that if he wanted 



BALAAM. 79 

the power he did not want the inclinailon to curse. Our 
inward disposition is the life of our actions j by this 
doth the God of spirits try us^ while men pass judg- 
ment on our external conduct. An angel is sent to 
withhold the hasty sorcerer — the dumb ass, speaking 
with man's voice, forbids the madness of the prophet. 

Notwithstanding this miraculous interference, which 
should have filled him with horror and astonishment, 
he dares yet proceed on his journey. Now are mes- 
sengers sent to Balak with news of the approach of his 
welcome guest. He who sent princes to summon him 
to his court, comes himself on the way to meet him — 
pays the most extravagant honors to one from whom 
he expects the elevation of Moab — prepares, as for a 
festival, for the execration of his enemies. 

The superstitious king, as if he had already obtained 
his purpose, feasts his prophet, his princes, his people ; 
and on the morrow carries the soothsayer to the high 
places of his idol. Who can now doubt that Balaam is 
a false prophet, when he is seen sacrificing in the 
mount of Baal '{ Had he adhered to the cause of truth, 
he would have said, '' Throw down these trophies of 
idolatry," not, " Build me here seven altars."" But here 
is nothing but a vain-glorious and magnificent pretence 
of devotion. False worshippers make pompous shows 
of piety, and splendid exhibitions of religion ; but God 
knoweth the heart. 

Now, when Balaam sees his victims smoking on the 
altars, he goes up into the mount, a counterfeit Moses, 
to receive the answer of God. '' And will God meet 
v/ith a sorcerer 1 will he make a prophet of a magi- 
cian V Nay, but, O man, who art thou that prescribest 
to God what instruments he shall use ] He knows how 
to employ not only saints and angels, but evil men and 
evil spirits to his own glory. Balaam utters only bless- 
ings on the people of God, declares their future great- 



80 hall's scripture history. 

ness and dominion, and even foretels the promised Mes- 
siah, the Star of Jacob, the Sceptre of Israel. How 
many shall say, ^' Lord, have we not prophesied in thy 
name V to whom it shall be answered, '' I say unto yon, 
I know you not whence ye are : Depart from me, ye 
workers of iniquity." 

What a madness is that of Balaam, who hopes to 
change success by change of place, and still dares to 
importune his God for permission to curse ! The re- 
ward was before him on the one hand, the avenging 
angel on the other ; he loved the bribe, but he feared 
the angel. And, while he is in this distraction, his 
tongue blesses against his heart ; his heart curses 
against his tongue ; till at last, rather than lose his 
hopes, he resolves to speak worse than curses — brings 
down vengeance on the people of God by enticing them 
to sin, and justly perishes by the sword of Israel. 



17.— THE DEATH OF MOSES, 

After many painful and dangerous enterprises the 
great leader of Israel draws near to his rest. He had 
conducted his people from Egypt, through the sea 
and through the wilderness, within sight of the promis- 
ed inheritance. Now is he called on to take posses- 
sion of that better country, whereof the land which 
flowed with milk and honey was nothing more than a 
figure. When we have fulfilled the work which our 
heavenly Father hath appointed us, to depart and be 
with Christ is the best of all rewards. This earth is 
appointed for labor, not for enjoyment : the services of 
the children of God would meet with a wretched re- 



THE DEATH OF MOSES. 81 

compense if they were always to remain in the regions 
of mortality. Let no man therefore repine when he 
sees those summoned from the world who have been 
faithful to their duty : God hath proved them, and found 
them worthy for himself. How vain the wish that good 
men should live for ever ! How vain the regret that they 
are no more ! He who sent them into the world will 
confer on them blessings of a more exalted nature than 
the world can bestow on them. Precious in the sight of 
the Lord is the death of his saints. It were injurious to 
wish that excellence should hinder any man from glory. 

God, who gave us a being, calls us hence according 
to his own good pleasure. In the case of Moses, the 
time, the place, and every circumstance of his dissolu- 
tion is previously arranged. He must ascend the hill 
to die. On Mount Horeb he received his charge. On 
Mount Sinai it was confirmed to him. On Mount Nebo 
he surrendered it to his God. On Mount Tabor he a]!- 
pears in celestial splendor, to clo homage to the Ee- 
deemer of mankind. It is a manifest token of the good- 
ness of our heavenly Father, if, v.hen he calls his chil- 
dren from the wilderness of life, he enables them in the 
hour of their departure to see the land of promise be- 
fore them, and bids them ^' rejoice in hope of the glory 
of God." 

In what familiar terms is Moses made acquainted 
with his endl The word of God addresses him, '^Go 
up, and die." To a soul properly prepared for its de- 
parture the tidings of approaching death are neither 
strange nor horrible ; the tyrant is bereaved of his ter- 
rors if his arrival hath been the constant subject of our 
solemn meditation. The christian considers the grave 
as an introduction to glory and to God, and obeys the 
mandate of his Crealor with serenity. They, indeed, 
who know him not, they who have lived without faith, 
without hope, a))d as it were without God in the vx'orld, 

4* 



83 hall's scripture history. 

have good cause to tremble, both in their life and in the 
hour of their dissolution. 

God, who had so often condescended to take coun- 
sel as it were with Moses, and to impart to him the de- 
crees of his providence respecting Israel, now tells the 
prophet what shall befall /ii?n,self. It is a great advan- 
tage to us to have time afforded us for preparation in 
the most important events of /?/<?, how much more at 
the time of our departure from the world ! It is a token 
of judgment, to come as " a thief in the night." We 
pray God to avert from us the terrible danger of unpre- 
pared death. Had the fiery chariot taken away Elijah 
without his being previously taught to expect it, we 
should have doubted whether it had been sent in anger 
or in mercy. God forewarns one by sickness, another 
by old age, another by the loss of all earthly comfort. 
If the heart is not detached from worldly delusions, it 
is because of our own folly and obduracy, and we must 
abide by the consequence ! 

Long had God decreed that Moses should not set his 
foot in the promised land. Since that time he had re- 
ceived many favors from above ; but the sentence was 
gone forth from Him, who saith of himself, '' I am Je- 
hovah — I change not." Our purposes are like ourselves, 
fickle and uncertain. His are fixed and immutable. 
Hath he said, and shall he not do it 1 Hath he purposed, 
and shall he not make it good] His hand is stretched 
out, and who shall turn it back ? 
I Moses, who had been so careful for the welfare of Is- 
rael during his life, preserves the same tender anxiety 
at the moment of his death. He takes no thought for 
himself j he knows that the exciiange v/iil to him be in- 
finitely advantageous. His warfare is accomplished ; 
his iniquity is pardoned. Let the sceptre but pass into 
a righteous hand, he dies in peace. Some envious na- 
tures make use of government only for their own ad- 



THE DKATH OF MOSES. 83 

vantage ; good hearts ever consider the future benefit 
of the church beyond their own. Moses did well to 
show his affection to the people j but had he been silent 
CJod would have provided a shepherd for the sheep of 
his pasture. That wisdom which called the prophet 
from the flocks of Jethro, will appoint him no unworthy 
successor. Who can be more proper to receive the sa- 
cred trust than one whose name, whose experience, 
whose talents, whose virtues would supply, would as 
it were revive Moses to the people 1 Joshua, who had 
searched the land befoa'e, was best qualified to guide 
Israel into it. Joshua, who was endued with the spirit 
of God, was best qualified to be his representative. 

And well doth Joshua succeed Moses. The very acts 
of God in old time were allegories. Where ihe law^ 
ends, there the Savior begins. In the law we only see 
the land of promise. Jesus, the mediator of the New 
Testament (whom Joshua prefigured in name as well as 
in office) can alone condvcl us into it. So was he a ser- 
vant of the law, that he supplied to us all its defects ; 
he hath taken possession of our inheritance for us; he 
shall carry us from this wilderness to our rest. 

Happy is that people whose rulers bear the sceptre 
in righteousness ; where the sovereign over men knows 
no higher title than that w-hich proclaims him the minis- 
ter of God ! such authority proceeds from above, and 
is maintained and supported by an Almighty arm — while 
violence, injustice, and oppression, at once make the 
people miserable, and proceed from one who is the au- 
thor of all confusion. Wretched is the state that suflers 
such tyranny ; wretched is the person w ho inflicts it ; 
for both of them have sold themselves, ihe one to ser- 
vitude, the other to sin. 

What an example of meekness do we behold in the 
last act of Moses 1 He willingly lays his hands on his 
servant and consecrates him to be his successor. A 



84 hall's scripture history. 

gracious heart acquiesces with cheerfulness in the ad- 
vancement of those whom God delights to honor. Envy 
and discontent belong to carnal minds ; peace and hu- 
mility are ever attendant on true religion. 

The same God who by his angels carried up the spirit 
of Moses to glory, by his angels transports his body into 
the valley of Moab for sepulture. Those hands, which 
had taken the law" from God — those eyes, which had 
seen his presence — those lips, which had conversed 
with the Almighty — that face, which had been irradia- 
ted with beams of heavenly glory, must not be neglect- 
ed, though the soul is gone. He who preserved his in- 
fant body amidst the bulrushes, takes charge even of 
bis lifeless remains. The care of God is manifested to- 
wards his children, both in life and in death. 
I If the ministry of man had been used in this grave of 
Moses, the place would have been known to the Israel- 
ites — but God purposely conceals this treasure, to re- 
move from his people any danger of superstition. Had 
the relics of saints been just objects of adoration, where 
had there been so fit an opportunity as this for the ex- 
ercise of it 1 

1 Lo, in the transfiguration, this body, which was hid in 
the valley of Moab, appears on the hill of Tabor. We 
know that our earthly tabernacles at the hour of death 
are not lost, but laid up. They are sown in weakness — 
they are raised in power. When Christ, who is our 
Life, shall appear, then shall we also appear together 
with him in glory. 



JOSHUA. 85 



18.— JOSHUA 



The successor of Moses had formerly viewed the land 
of Canaan in person. He was full of the Holy Spirit, 
and had the oracle of God ready for his direction — yet 
does he address two spies for a more particular survey. 
Joshua had been assured that he should lead Israel into 
the promised land ; but he knew it was unsafe to pre- 
sume. He was aware that his success would not bo 
complete without his own best exertions. Heaven is 
promised to us — but not to our carelessness, infidelity 
or disobedience. He who sets this blessed inheritance 
before us, presupposes our diligence, our failh, our ho- 
liness. 

The spies repair to the city of Jericho — to the house 
of Rahab. The goodness of God hath already prepared 
for their reception, and hath raised up a friend to his 
people in a woman that was a sinner. Who shall assign 
limits to the mercy of heaven 1 To presume on it, is 
audacity — to despair, is infatuation. 

It is an easy act of duty to show favor to the pro- 
fessors of religion when the public countenance of the 
state befriends them ; but Rahab hazards her life for 
these strangers — provides for their security against 
their enemies — neglects her own countrymen, and fears 
not the extreme displeasure of her king. We do not find 
so great faith, no not in Israel. She had heard God's 
former wonders ; and, by his past judgments, she wisely 
considered of those which were to come. Her failh, an- 
ticipating the victories of Israel, provided not only for 
her own safety but for that of her family. Nature and 
grace enjoin us to consult the eternal welfare of all, 
chiefly of those who are joined to us by the ties of blood 
or alliance. Rahab, ere she dismisses these Israelites, 
makes a covenant w^ith them, that she, who had saved 



S6 HALLOS SCRIPTURE HlSTOnV. 

their lives, might afterwards be saved by them in return. 

The spies bring news of approaching triumph to the 
camp of Israel. *' They faint because of us — therefore 
the land is ours." The country is populous — the inha- 
bitants are prepared for war ; but the Lord of Hosts is 
with us — the God of Jacob goeth before us. Joshua is 
on his march by morning ; and nothing now^ detains the 
children of Israel from the land of promise but the wa- 
ters of Jordan. 

Now the cloud vanishes wiiich hath led them all the 
way — now they participate for the last time of their 
celestial food. These supernatural aids were for their 
pilgrimage, not their rest — for the wilderness, not for 
Canaan. Yet He who before guided them in the cloudy 
now conducts them by the ark — the ark of the testimo- 
ny, which witnessed both his presence and his love. 
Within it were the Cherubim, the law, the incorruptible 
manna. Who can wish for a better guide to the land of 
promise than the God of heaven, his word, his ordi- 
nances 1 What means can so well direct us thither as 
those of his own institution! 

Nothing is so comfortable to a good heart as to see 
the pledges of God's presence and favor — to hear of his 
loving-kindness is pleasant, but to behold and experience 
his mercy is the fulness of joy. What a happy prospect 
hath God set before its, of Christ Jesus crucified for us, 
;ind oflered to our souls ! 

The same power which divided the Red Sea before 
Moses, divides Jordan before Joshua, that his people 
might see the ark as eflectual as the cloud, and the 
hand of God as present with Joshua to bring them into 
Canaan, as it was with Moses to bring them out of 
Egypt. The virtue of the priests who bare the ark was 
put to its proof — they must first set their foot in the 
river Jordan, under the confidence that a way shall be 
inaJe for them ih rough its waters. They whose calling 



JOSHUA. 87 

brings ihem near to God, must be examples to men of 
faith as well as obedience. 

The floods acknowledge their Maker. That stream 
into which Christ afterwards went to be baptized re- 
tires when the angel of the covenant approaches it with 
liis host. The presence of the ark is a sign to these 
waters, which flow back to their source, as not daring 
to touch the feet of the priests who carried it. '' What 
ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest, and thou, Jor- 
dan, that thou wast driven backl" The God who made, 
controls the very nature^ of his elements. With what 
joy did his people tread on the dry channel of Jordan, 
when they saw the promised land before them! God 
overcomes all their difficulties, removes every obstacle 
to their success. Lord, we commit unto thee the 
beginning, the progress, and the completion of our glo- 
ry. Faithful art thou who hast promised — thou also 
wilt do it. 

Now the Israelites see those cities and towers who.se 
height was reported to reach to heaven — now do they 
prepare for hostilities against a people once the object 
of their terror. They do not say in distrust, " How 
shall we scale these invincible fortifications]" What 
engines shall we use for so vast a work V They know 
the efficacy of that promise, ^' Behold, I have given Je- 
richo into thine hand." If the walls of the city had their 
foundations in the centre of the earth — if the battle- 
ments had been so high that an eagle could not soar 
over them, this word '^ I have given" were enough. In 
vain are the walls impregnable, the men valiant, the 
leaders skilful, the king prudent. What can swords or 
spears, what can wisdom or counsel do against almighty 
power 1 Had the captain of the Lord's host drawn the 
sword. /or Jericho, the gates might have been opened — 
Israel could then no more have taken the city than they 
could be prevented from entering when the walls were 



8S hall's scripture nisTORy. 

fallen. But uhat a siege was this of Jericho ! The men 
of war compass the city with trumpets — no mount was 
raised, no weapon drawn, no engine planted. Doubtless 
the inhabitants grew scornful and secure — they mocked 
the God of Israel, and deemed him as it were in jest, 
when he was preparing for their judgment. The ways 
of the Almighty arc not like our ways — if our reason 
cannot keep pace with his counsels, let us not therefore 
question his mighty power, his infinite wisdom. Let us 
follow his licavenly guidance — let us commit our cause 
to him, and the hour Avill surely come, when with a 
shout of exultation we shall say, " Thanks be to God 
who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ!" 

The ark of God casts down the walls of a wicked 
city. The same power which before had divided the 
waters, and which afterwards broke in pieces the Phi- 
listine idols, demolishes the forts of Jericho. Those 
spiritual wickednesses which to nature are invincible, 
are overthrown by the word of God. Alas, the ark of 
the covenant hath been long amongst us — why are not 
our corruptions done aw^ay 1 Why do we not follow our 
Savior \ Why do not our hearts attend on him with all 
their fervency ? 

When the trumpets sounded long on the seventh day, 
and when their alarm was joined by the shouts of the 
Israelites, the walls of Jericho fell down at once. The 
Jieavens had rung with the shout of the people — the 
earth shakes at the fall of these mighty ruins— a solemn, 
pleasing kind of horror is on the Israelites — despair 
nnd death is in the hearts and countenances of their 
enemies. They had now neither means nor will to re- 
fiist — astonishment contributes to dispatch them no less 
than the sword of Israel. God has all the praise, his 
fservants all the victory. Had one warrior assailed tlie 
walls, the glory of the Lord of hosts had been diminish- 



THE G1BE0N1TE3. 89 

ed. But here it was his own act ; his marvellous act ; 
he will not suffer his honor to be given to another. 
They gat not the land in possession by their own sword, 
neither was it their own arm that helped them ; but thy 
right hand and thine arm, and the light of thy counte- 
nance, because thou hadst a favor unto them, God ! 
In the moment of victory Joshua remembers the faith 
of Rahab. They who received life from her, now return 
it to her and to her family. They send news of peace 
and deliverance to that house, where they found their 
own security in the time of danger. Holy and charita- 
ble actions will sooner or later have their recompense. 
Now Rahab finds what it is to believe in God j while 
out of an impure and idolatrous city she is incorporated 
into his holy church, and made the mother of a royal 
and sacred posterity. 



19.— THE GIBEONITES. 

The news of Israel's early victories had flown over 
the mountains and valleys of Canaan ; and yet the 
kings and people prepare for resistance, and rush mndly 
against that judgment which their own enormities had 
drawn upon their heads. 

Only the Gibeonites are wiser than their companions, 
and resolve to yield and live. Their intelligence was 
not different from that of others ; but, as Rahab saved 
her family in the midst of Jericho, so these four cities 
preserved themselves in the midst of Canaan, because 
they believed in the power of God. Had they joined 
the forces of their neighbors they would have perished 



90 hall's scripture history. 

with them. How wise is that admonition which enjoins 
us not to follow a muhitude in evil — which calls us to 
unity with the church of God, that we may escape the 
condemnation of the world ! The neiorhborino^ cities 
mocked at this procedure of the Gibeonites, and scorn- 
ed to ask for safety at the hands of Israel. But in the 
event, the bodies of these proud heathens lay strewed 
on the earth, while the others survived and were admit- 
ted into covenant with the people of God. 

Had they staid till Israel was encamped before their 
cities, their submission would have been fruitless : now 
they make a timely peace, and are preserved. There 
is no wisdom in staying till judgment comes home to 
us. To solicit God early in the time of danger, is the 
best security against destruction. 

I commend their sagacity in seeking peace ; but their 
falsehood in the manner of seeking it is as blameable 
as the credulity of Israel — as the rashness which in- 
duced them to complete the covenant without asking 
advice of God. 

The sentence of death was gone out against all the 
inhabitants of Canaan. Yet the Gibeonites make peace 
with Israel and live. Amidst the general denunciations 
of Divine vengeance no man must despair of mercy. 
If we are convinced of the danger attendant on our sin, 
we shall cast ourselves at the feet of our Redeemer, (in 
humble prayer that the God of hope would fill us with 
all JDy and peace in believing, that we may abound in 
hope through the power of the H0I3' Ghost) and we 
shall not be condemned with the world. 

Still the fraud of these Gibeonites admits of no ex- 
cuse or apology. What a plausible tale did they feign 
of the remoteness of their country, the reasons for their 
journey, the consultation of theii" elders ! How artfully 
did they suppress their knowledge of more recent 
events, the miraculous passage over Jordan, the capture 



THE GIBEONITES. 91 

of Jericho and Ai, while they studiously recapitulated 
the former demonstrations of Almighty power! The 
case seemed self-evident j and the children of Israel 
thought it needless to have recourse to the oracle 
of God. 

And now, within three days, they find out the deceit 
of these new allies, and their near neighborhood. Joshua 
well knew the indissoluble nature of the covenant into 
which he had, however rashly, entered. He will not 
make the treachery of these heathens a pretext for his 
own. When he approaches the cities of Gibeon, he 
do€s not tell the ambassadors, " Ye came from a far 
country — these cities are near. This therefore is not 
the people whom we are engaged to protect. We will 
destroy these abodes of the Canaanites, and when we 
come to your distant confines the sword shall rest in 
its scabbard !" He feels the solemnity of his engage- 
ments. He dares not violate the oath of the Lord. 

The sequel shows both the wisdom and the piety of 
Joshua. Three hundred years afterwards, Saul, forget- 
ting or despising the vow of his ancestors, in the trans- 
ports of misguided zeal, sought to exterminate the de- 
scendants of these Gibeonites. But the God of truth 
proved himself the friend and patron of oppressed inno- 
cence ; when he made inquisition for blood, he remem- 
bered this injured people, and famine desolated the land 
which had been polluted by perjury and murder. 

Joshua and the princes had promised them life — they 
promised them not liberty — no covenant was made 
against their servitude. It was justice on the part oi 
Israel to make them sensible of their past treachery. 
How dear is life to our nature when we see men content 
to purchase it at such a rate! The Gibeonites submit to 
their doom without reluctance, and think themselvos 
fortunate in becoming hewers of wood and drawers of 
water to the congregation of Israel. 



92 hall's scaiPTURjS" history. 

But this is not the end of their calamity and danger. 
Envy, jealousy and fear combine to raise up the kings 
of the Amorites against them. Neither evil men or evil 
spirits can behold without regret the flourishing state 
of the church. There is joy in heaven over one sinner 
that repenteth; angels welcome the convert with songs ; 
hell is full of uproar and fury at his conversion. 

The Gibeonites, when they secured the friendship of 
Joshua, were not aware that they should so soon be 
compelled to have recourse to that friendship. Now 
they experience the efficacy of that covenant which en- 
titled them to protection from Israel. Whither should 
we fly but to our great Deliverer when the powers of 
darkness are in league against us 1 If we trust to our 
own means of resistance we cannot stand — if we rely 
on his omnipotence we cannot fall. 

The noble disposition of Joshua will not let him for- 
sake his new vassals. Though he never promised to 
hazard his life for theirs, yet he scorns to avail himself 
of such a wretched subterfuge — he knows no difference 
between killing them with his own sword and the sword 
of an Amorite. Their confidence in him is argument 
enough to draw him into the field. Savior, if we send 
our prayers to thee in the day of our trouble, thy mercy 
will hasten to our relief — never was any soul disap- 
pointed which put its trust in thee. Let our faith be 
but steadfast, it shall not fail of success. 

A benefit deferred proves unprofitable. Joshua march- 
es all night and fights all day for the Gibeonites. If 
Israel had been endangered he could have done no 
more. The noblest of all victories is that which over- 
comes evil with good, and buries the sense of injuries 
in a generous pardon, 

Joshua fights, but God discomfits the Amorites. He 
Blays them, not only with the sword of his warriors, but 
with mighty hailstones, the messengers of his wrath. 



TIIR GIBEONITES. 93 

x\'o wonder these five kings are overwhelmed with hor- 
ror and despair as they fly. Behind them is the army of 
Israel, whose force they are unable to resist — above 
them is the dreadful artillery of heaven, from whose de- 
structive power they are utterly unable to escape. It is 
a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. 
He shall pour down rain upon the sinners, storm and 
tempest; this shall be the portion of their cup. 

Nor i% this the only miracle displayed on the memo- 
rable day of Israel's victory. The great luminaries of 
heaven must stay their course, as if they were called on 
to witness and to wonder at the overthrow of the ene- 
mies of God. That He, who gave them either real or 
apparent motion, should by his almighty power arrest 
their progress, would of itself excite astonishment — but 
how are we amazed at that faith by which a mortal 
speaks to the sun and moon, and in the name of their 
common Lord enjoins their obedience ! It was the 
glory of God which his zealous champion studied to 
promote. That all nations might acknowledge him to 
be supreme both in heaven and earth, Joshua prays, 
that He, who at this moment was punishing an idola- 
trous people, would show his sovereignty over the 
very gods whom they worshipped with impious rites 
under many horrid symbols. Great was the faith that 
obtained this miracle — great vras the powder that ef- 
fected it. What is there which God cannot do 1 And 
what can God do which faith cannot do % 

O sing unto the Lord a new song, for he hath done 
wonderful things — Avith his ov/n right hand and with his 
holy arm hath he gotten himself the victory. The Lord 
declareth his salvation — his righteousness hath he open- 
ly showed in the sight of the heathen. He hath remem- 
bered his mercy and truth toward the house of Israel — 
and all the ends of the world have seen the salvation of 
our God. 



94 hall's scripture history. 

20.--G I D E N . 

After the deatli of Joshua, and the establishment of 
Israel in the land of Canaan, we behold a stiffnecked 
and froward people, elated with peace and liberty, and 
forgetting Him to whom they owed all the blessings 
shed on them in such profusion. We behold a con- 
tinued circle of sins, judgments, contrition, deliverance, 
and renewed transgression. Conversation with idolaters 
tempts them to sin — their sin brings down judgments 
from above — judgments move them to repentance — on 
their repentance they are delivered — on their deliver- 
ance they return to their sin. The ministry of 0th- 
niel rescued them from the Mesopotamians ; of Ehud, 
from the Moabitesj of Shamgar, from the Philistines; 
of Barak, from the tyrant of Canaan. But again the 
people offend ; again they are punished ; the bondage of 
Israel under Jabin was freedom in comparison with the 
yoke of the Midianites- They who had rejected the 
protection of God are compelled to seek to the moun- 
tains for shelter — they, who had transgressed in the 
face of the sun, hide their sins and their sorrows in 
dens and caves of the earth. 

But the mercy of God is greater than the infirmity 
of his creatures. He beheld and pitied the afflictions 
of Israel, he sent a prophet with a message of reproof, 
an angel with a message of deliverance. While Gideon 
in fear and trembling hastens to conceal the scanty 
produce of his fields from the Midianites, the great 
Angel of the covenant addresses him, '' The Lord is 
with thee, thou mighty man of valor." 

While this heavenly visitant, this lord of angels was 
with Gideon, he might well say, '' The Lord is with 
thee." From Him who sent the Comforter, did ever 
proceed the true comfort of his church. He knew how 



GIDEON. * 95 

to lay a sure ground of consolation. The only remedy 
of sorrow and beginning of joy is the presence of God. 
The same Angel who thus spake to Gideon, spake in 
after times to the sorrowing apostles, '^Behold, I am 
with you always, even to the end of the world." 

Gideon knew not by whom he was thus addressed in 
the language of encouragement. The word of the Lord 
was precious in those days, there was no open vision. 
The promise of deliverance by his means to Israel found 
not a perfect assent while uttered by an unknown mes- 
senger. Fain would he believe, but fain would he have 
sure grounds for his faith. He asks a sign of the stran- 
ger, in token that he was sent from God. 

Yet the very hope of these glad tidings, though not 
ratified as yet by miraculous attestation, awakens in 
Gideon both joy and thankfulness; he prepares a feast 
for him who had spoken comfortably to Israel. Gideon 
prepares a feast, the angel makes it a sacrifice. He 
whose meat and drink it was to do his Father's will, 
touches the food with his staff (when Gideon imagined 
he would have blessed and eaten) and suddenly con- 
sumes it with fire. While the son of Joash saw and 
wondered at the spiritual act, he lost sight of the agent. 

Now Gideon builds an altar to God, and becomes 
familiarized to visions and revelations from above. His 
first commission is to destroy the idol of the Midian- 
ites, next, the Midianites themselves. While the altar 
and grove of Baal stood on the hill of Ophrah in vain 
should Israel hope to prevail. If we would be delivered 
from the judgments of God we must examine what 
false ofi^erings and groves we have in our hearts. 
These must all be demolished. The true God will have 
no society with idols himself^ nor allow it to us. 
*' Cleanse your hands, ye sinners, and purify your 
hearts, ye double-minded!" He first abolishes the mo- 
numents of superstition, and then enjoins his own 



96 hall's scripture history. 

reasonable service. The wood of Baal's grove is made 
use of to burn a sacrifice unto the true Jehovah. 

There needs no further declaration of war. The sons 
of Midian and Amalek make haste to avenge the indigni- 
ty offered to their idol — Gideon blows the trumpet, and 
the people are gathered after him. Now, when he sees 
himself on the brink of danger, he has recourse to 
mightier aid j and not daring to trust his thousands of 
Israel, he flies to God for a further assurance of victory. 

The refuge was good — the manner of seeking it in- 
dicates distrust. It is easy to be valiant when perils 
are far distant ; but when they are near, and great, and 
imminent, then not to be dismayed is difficult and glo- 
rious. Had God made the proclamation now, which 
was afterwards made by Gideon, " Let the timorous de- 
part," the people of Israel had perhaps been deprived 
of their leader. 

How willing is the Almighty to support and strength- 
en our weakness ! Repeated miracles are called for by 
his creature, and are wrought by the Creator, to show 
the son of Joash, that He who was on his side was migh- 
tier than all the power of the enemy. The dews of 
heaven obey his mandate, and at his word they fall, or 
are withholden. Now we see Gideon armed with faith 
and resolution — confident of success — at the head of 
his troops — in the face of the Midianitcs. 

But while their adversaries cover the valley like lo- 
custs, and the Israelites think themselves too few, God 
says, "They are too manyy He is willing to give de- 
liverance to his people, but the honor of the deliver- 
ance he keeps to himself, and will diminish the means, 
that he may have the full measure of glory. God, 
thou art not benefited by our best services, whose in- 
finite greatness can receive no addition from thy crea 
tures. It is for our good thou wouldst be magnified 
by us. Teach us how to receive the blessings of thy 



GIDEON. 97 

gracious protection, and let both our lips and our lives 
show forth thy praise ! 

Gideon^s army must be lessened. God will neither 
be glorified by dastards nor avail himself of any but 
able champions. O thou of little faith, do the frowns or 
the laughter of men scare thee from thy God 1 Doth 
the hazard of a little land or silver disquiet thee % Art 
thou afraid of the Midianites in the valley 1 Away then, 
away to the world ; thou art not fit for the conquering 
band of Christ. If thou canst not resolve to follow him 
through infamy, prisons, racks, tortures, death itself, de- 
part to thine house, and Save thy life to thy destruction. 

And do not the Israelites complain of this indignity 1 
Do not they with one voice pronounce themselves fear- 
less 1 Do not they aver that tliose hearts which brought 
them after their General cannot endure the thought of 
retiring 1 Alas ! who can trust the faces of men, that 
sees in the army of Israel two and twenty thousand 
cowards 1 How many make a glorious show in the 
church, who, when they see danger of persecution, 
shrink from the standard of God 1 Hope of safety, ex- 
ample of neighbors, desire of praise, fear of censure, 
the operation of laws, the society of friends, draw many 
into the field, who (when they see the adversary) re- 
pent of the conditions, and, if they may escape, are 
gone early from Mount Gilead. They deal deceitfully 
as a brook, and as the stream of brooks they pass away. 
What time they wax warm they vanish — when it is hot 
they are consumed out of their place. 

Yet still God complains of the number of his army, 
and on a second trial dismisses nine thousand seven 
hundred more. The select band of his appointment 
leaves not one Israelite to a thousand of the enemies — 
now is the season for God to join battle. Three hun- 
dred men approach an innumerable host, not with sword 
or spear, but with pitchers, and lights, and trumpets. 

Script. Hist. 5 



98 hall's scripture history. 

The breaking- of these pitchers shall dash in pieces the 
pride of Amalek. The kindling of these lights shall 
extinguish the light of Midian. The trumpets shall 
sound an alarm of death to the armies of the aliens. 
Who shall be able to stand against the power of Godi 
Where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear, when 
the world shall be in flame, the heavens shall pass away 
with a great noise, and the trumpet of the archangel 
shall call them to present judgment 1 

Any of the weakest Hebrews might have broken an 
empty vessel of earth — have carried a light — have 
sounded a trumpet — have smitten a flying adversary. 
But God will not employ an unworthy agent — he will 
not allow so much as a cowardly torch-bearer. 

Now the Israelites pursue, overtake, destroy those 
tyrants whom once they dared not look in the face. 
Flight gives advantage to the feeblest adversary — oppo- 
sition foils the greatest. If we yield to a temptation, 
our spiritual enemies will trample us in the dust. Let 
us but resist, and they will flee — let us but stand still, 
and we shall see the salvation of God. 



21.— MAN AH. 

If the wife of Manoah had not been barren, the angel 
had not been sent to her. Afllictions have this advan- 
tacre, that they bring down from above those manifesta- 
tions of Divine mercy Vvhich are unknown to the pros- 
perous. The sick child experiences most indulgence 
from a tender parent. God addresses his best comforts 
to those hearts which stand most in need of his support. 

The Angel of God first tells the wife of Manoah the 
cause of her sorrow, and then imparts a message of 



MANOAU. 99 

joy. " Thou art barren." All our afflictions are known 
to Him, whose loving correction tends only to our final 
advantao^e. The suffering christian would sink under 
his misfortunes, if he were not persuaded that the ej'C 
of God beheld the conflict and would award the crown 
of victory. He saith to one, '' Thou art sick ;" to an- 
other, ^' Thou art poor;" to another, '^ Thou art de- 
famed ;" to another, '' Thou art oppressed." The all- 
seeing Father of mankind takes notice of every man^s 
condition, no less than if he sent his angel to tell us so. 
His knowledge and his rn^ercy are our sure resources in 
the time of our sufferings. O God, thou knowest both 
the miseries we feel, and those which have been averted 
from us by thy gracious interference ! 

Comfort comes unseasonably to that heart which is 
not apprehensive of its own sorrow. The angel does 
not vpbraid the wife of Manoah with her affliction, but, 
while he names the cause, declares the remedy. We 
must first know our evils before we can be delivered 
from them. If we cannot endure the mention of our 
infirmities w^e shall look in vain for their amendment. 
*'Thou art barren, but thou shalt bear a son." 

The mother must first be a Nazarite, that her child 
may be so. The worldling knows no restraint, no mode- 
ration ; the christian must keep under his body and 
bring it into subjection. The consecration of God is 
upon his head — his heart is the temple of the Holy 
Ghost — the base and sordid gratifications of the world 
must be rejected with abhorrence. '^ If thou return to 
the Almighty, put iniquity from thee." 

The wife of Manoah hides not the glad tidings in her 
own bosom. She imparts them to her husband, whose 
piety directs him at once to the proper means by which 
he may attain a more certain confirmation of his hopes. 
He does not send messengers from place to place in 
search of the angel, as the children of the prophets af- 



100 HALl'j> SCRirTURE HISTORr. 

ter wards sought Elijah — he applies at once to the God 
who had sent him j he knows that to have recourse to 
heaven is the most sure and speedy method of obtaining 
the good he solicits. " my Lord, I pray thee, let that 
man of God come again!" 

Manoah is a true descendant of that father of the 
faithful, who believed in God, and it was accounted to 
him for righteousness. He saw not the messenger — he 
heard not the errand — he examined not the circumstan- 
ces J yet we find his immediate care to be, how that 
child shall be ordered^ which was thus foretold j and his 
prayers to God are not for the son, which as yet he had 
not, but for directions as to his education when he 
should be. The father of John Baptist had the same 
message ; and asking a sign, lost that voice wherewith 
he asked it. The father of Samson seeks no sign for 
the promise, but counsel for himself; and yet that angel 
spake to the priest Zacharias — this, only to the wife of 
Manoah ; that, in the temple, like a glorious spirit — this, 
in the field, like some prophet or traveller. Blessed are 
they who have not seen and yet have believed. True 
faith considers all things foretold as granted, and doubts 
not of their completion when once they have been 
promised. 

He who sent his heavenly messenger unasked, will not 
fail to send him again upon entreaty ; those blessed spi- 
rits are ready both to obey their Maker and to comfort 
his children. Never was any man repulsed who prayed 
for direction in his duties to God: rather shall an angel 
descend from heaven to instruct us, than our good de- 
sires shall be frustrated. 

As yet Manoah saw nothing which denoted his guest 
to be more than human, and therefore on his return he 
offers him an entertainment denoting at once hospitality 
and gratitude. No man shall bring him good news from 
God and depart unrecompensed. How beautiful are the 



MANOAH. 101 

feet of them who bring glad tidings of eternal salvation, 
when he who announces distant temporal mercies is thus 
made welcome ! 

It is the office of good angels to incite us to piety. 
*'If thou wilt offer a sacrifice, offer it unto the Lord." 
We can never gratify the inhabitants of heaven so much 
as by our devotions to the God of lieaven. Why do we 
not learn this lesson of them w^hom we propose to our- 
selves as patterns of perfect obedience 1 Hereafter we 
shall be like angels in Our condition j why are we not so 
now in disposition of mind 1 If we do not exhort one 
another to acts of devotion and charity, if we regard a 
feast more than a sacrifice, we partake not of the na- 
ture of angels. 

Manoah, while he addresses an oblation to God, will 
not neglect his messenger. He anxiously desires to 
know the name of his guest, that he may remember it 
with honor and gratitude. True piety, while it magni- 
fies the Author of all blessings, is thankful to his instru- 
ments ; and deems it injustice to receive good tidings 
from heaven, and at the same time to disregard those 
who impart them. 

The angel conceals his very name from Manoah. In 
some cases these heavenly messengers reveal themselves 
unasked ; here entreaty will not prevail. The father of 
Samson shall conjecture from circumstances (he shall 
not be told in words) that One, whose name only is 
Jehovah, thus veiled his greatness and stood before him. 
''Why askest thou my name, seeing it is Wonderful]" 
The secret things belong to God — the things which are 
revealed, to us and our children. No words can be so 
sij^nificant as actions. Those of the an^el tell best who 
he was — he did wonderfully. When the flame of the 
sacrifice arose towards heaven he ascended in the smoke 
of it, that ]\Ianoah might see to whom belonged the sa- 
crifice and the messenger j and might know both hoAv 



102 hall's SCllIPTUEE UISTORY. 

to estimate the promise, and v.hence to expect the per- 
formance. 

Manoah believed before, and asked for no sign ; but 
that he might behold the confirmation of his hopes and 
the acceptance of his act of duty, the Angel of God 
vouchsafed to carry up the incense of his prayers to 
heaven. To him that hath shall be given, and he shall 
have abundance. Where there are beginnings of faith, 
the mercy of God will add perfection. 

Yet how did Manoah and his wife receive this mani- 
festation from above \ They had not spirit either to 
gaze at the departing angel, or even to look on each 
other. Instead of lifting up their eyes to heaven, they 
fall upon their faces to the ground — dazzled and over- 
powered with that which should have comforted them. 
What a proof do we afford of human infirmity, when 
we are afflicted with the causes of our joyl — when we 
conceive death in that glorious vision wherein our life 
and happiness consist 1 If such are the terrors of the 
saints of God, what will befall his enemies when, in 
the great day, they shall be summoned to his glorious 
tribunal 1 

The wife of Manoah first recovers her better judg- 
ment, and speaks peace and comfort to her husband. 
The argument is incontrovertible. '' If the Lord were 
pleased to kill us, he would not have received a burnt- 
offering at our hands." God will not accept gifts where 
he intends punishment and professes hatred. The sacri- 
fice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord. If our 
oblation is not rejected, we may rely on his favor and 
protection. '' If I incline unto wickedness in mine heart, 
the Lord will not hear me — but God hafh heard me, and 
considered the voice of my prayer. Blessed be God, 
who hath not cast out my prayer, nor turned his mercy 
from me !" 



SAMSON. 103 



22. — SAMSON. 

Of all the (lellverers of Israel, none was so mii^lity, 
or so weak, as Samson. God, to show the incfficacy of 
human strength and human wisdom, permitted this his 
servant, as w^ell as the royal Solomon, to be brought low 
under the tyranny of sin j that he who glorieth should 
glory in the Lord — that he who thinks his feet secure 
should take heed lest he fall. 

When the persuasions (rather than the arguments) of 
Samson had obtained a reluctant consent from his pa- 
rents to an unhallowed alliance, behold, in his way to 
Timnath a young lion, fierce, wild, hungry, rushed upon 
him: he had no weapon but his hand, no earthly refuge 
but his strength. God initiates his champions by pre- 
vious encounters — Samson and David first fight with 
lions, then with Philistines; as He whom they prefi- 
gured engaged and vanquished the roaring lion in the 
wilderness before he entered on his public ministry. 
God never gives strength but he employs it. Persecu- 
tion, shame, poverty, slander assail the christian in the 
outset of his course. It is a pledge of our future victo- 
ries if we can say, ''My soul hath been among lions.'* 
And do we think that God is angry, because we are 
called to these conflicts'! Shall we repine at our own 
glory 1 Shall we expect the crown without the struggle \ 
Can we be triumphant without resistance! 

The Spirit of the Lord came upon Samson. The ra- 
venous beast advances, rejoicing in his prey, his eyes 
sparkling with fury, and breathing death from his nos- 
trils : he is rent as if he had been a kid — the destroyer 
is destroyed by an unarmed adversary. If God be for 
ws, who can be against us 1 It is the right hand of the 
Lord which bringeth mighty things to pass. 

The brave and modest Samson boasts not of this n-reat 



lO^ eall's scripture history. 

exploit. True courage and true virtue avoid ostenta- 
tion. But who can sufficiently adore the goodness of 
God, by whom terror is changed into pleasure, and the 
greatest evils are made beneficial ] Through his al- 
mighty power the curse itself is turned into a blessing. 
The bitterness of death is exchanged into the sweetness 
of honey. 

Samson proceeds on his journey — the marriage is 
concluded j and he whom the lion could not conquer is 
overcome with the tears of a perfidious woman. "Be 
ye not unequally yoked with unbelievers," is a wise and 
necessary caution. Favor is deceitful — riches are pre- 
carious — beauty is vain — but a woman that fears the 
Lord shall be praised. Wo be to him who is united with 
a Philistine ! The betrayed and injured Samson revenges 
his own cause, and the cause of heaven, on his tyran- 
nous oppressors. He knew that God had raised him to 
be a scourge to the Philistines ; when the nuptial-feast 
terminated in slaughter, he was well aware that he 
fought the battles of the Almighty. Faith, courage, and 
the Divine assistance in a sore conflict gave him the 
victory. 

The Israelites were slaves, and the Philistines their 
masters; yet the hand of God, which urged Samson to 
revenge, withholds the rage of these oppressors. In- 
stead of requiting the death of their countrymen on the 
captive Israel, the Philistines demand only satisfaction 
from the person v.'^ho had caused it. 

Samson had drawn the sword for the sake of his coun- 
try, as well as to avenge his private injuries; but now 
ihe men of Judah conspire with the Philistines to de- 
stroy him, and (fear prevailing over gratitude) are at 
once allies with their tyrants and traitors to their friend. 
He who has not experienced perils from false and un- 
grateful brethren, has not knowTi the extreme of danger 
or of sorrow. 



SAMSON. 105 

The men of Judah approach armed to the place of 
Samson's retreat. For a moment, perhaps, he expected, 
from them assistance and support. Already he seemed 
to hear them saying, " We abhor the usurpation and ty- 
ranny of the Philistines — thou hast happily begun to 
shake off their yoke, and we are come to second thee 
with our best services — the valor of such a general 
makes our hearts beat high for conquest — under thy guid- 
ance we shall be honored, either in death or liberty." 
But who shall express the indignation of this champion 
of Israel, when he hears his kinsmen own themselves 
the abettors of barbarity and oppression ] when they un- 
blushingly require him to yield himself into their hands, 
that they might deliver him bound to the Philistines ! 

Samson might have attacked these thousands of Ju- 
dah with as much advantage as he did the uncircum- 
cised; but the blood of his countrymen was precious 
in his sight. With an acquiescence more noble than his 
former victories, he meekly offers his hands to their 
cords, that he might have the honor of a glorious deliv- 
erance. Thou, our better Nazarite, mightst have called 
on thy Father in the hour of thy betraying, and twelve 
legions of angels would have descended to thy rescue. 
But thou wouldst be bound that thou mightst triumph, 
and that we might learn of thee the instructive lesson, 
" that if we are not as ready to endure evil as to do 
good, we are not fit for the consecration of God." 

With what triumph do the Philistines receive their 
illustrious captive ! How ready are they to say, " Aha, 
so would we have it !" But the event soon turns their 
false joy into real sorrow. Rejoice not against me, O 
mine enemy, when I fall, I shall arise. The Spirit of the 
Lord came upon Samson — his bonds are as flax burned 
with fire. The countenance of his adversaries is changed, 
and their shouts are turned into shrieks; while, like the 
young lion whom he encountered, he flies upon his ene- 

5* 



103 hall's scRirrURE history. 

mies, and at the first onset sends a thousand Philistines^ 
to their graves. Thus didst thou, blessed Savior, 
when thou wert bound with the cords of death, rouse 
thyself to victory and glory ; thus didst thou vanquish 
all opposition, and lead captivity captive. Thus do thy 
saints, when they seem most forsaken, find thy Spirit 
mighty to their deliverance. Through God shall they 
do great acts, for it is he that shall tread down their 
enemies. 

And now, after our wonder at the strength of Samson, 
how shall we, without grief and fear, contemplate his 
weakness? U thou. Lord, shouldst be extreme to mark 
what is amiss, O Lord, who shall abide it ] How should 
we suspect ourselves, and maintain an incessant conflict 
with our deceitful lusts, when we behold the judge and 
deliverer of Israel betrayed, imprisoned, bereaved of his 
sight, derided of his enemies, forsaken by his God 1 
And all this because repeated warnings failed of their 
success ; because that heart which trembled not at thou- 
sands of the Philistines, was vanquished and enslaved 
by the treacherous Delilah ! 

Why do we not learn zeal of these idolaters'! They 
thankfully ascribe to their Dagon the glory of Samson's 
captivity, and proclaim a solemn festival to their sense- 
less image. " Our god hath delivered our enemy into 
our hands." O God, whatever may be the means of our 
success, thou only art its Author. O that men would 
praise the Lord for his goodness, and declare the won- 
ders that he doeth for the children of men ! 

Once more the God of mercy looks on the repentant 
captive ; and, while scorn is added to his misery, con- 
sents that his sun shall set in radiance. Even in the 
idolatrous temple, Samson, a laughing-stock to his ene- 
mies, the subject of their triumphant carousals, yet 
sees Him who is invisible. He sues to that God whom 
the heathen reproached and blasphemed, and once more 



NAOMI. 1 07 

gollclts to be strengthened with might by the Holy Spi- 
rit. Well knowing that his insulting enemies meant to 
crown their orgies by consigning him to an ignominious 
death, he collects all the forces of his soul and body to 
prevent and to punish their cruelty. God hears the 
prayer of his departing servant. Death and victory go 
hand in hand. He feels not his own dissolution while 
he dies with the Philistines. By the sacrifice of a life 
no longer serviceable to his country, he finishes his 
course with joy, and commends his exulting spirit into 
the hands of the God of Israel. 

Thou, O blessed Savior, didst thus conquer in dying, 
and didst triumph when the malice of thine inhuman 
enemies had nailed thee to thy cross. Sin, death, hell 
had never been otherwise vanquished. All our life, our 
liberty, our glory is the fruit of thy passion. "We 
therefore pray thee, help thy servants, whom thou hast 
redeemed with thy precious blood." 



23. — NAOMI. 

Seldom were the rebellious Israelites without some 
Divine visitation, to teach them repentance and humili- 
ty. The country, once flowing with milk and honey, is 
now overspread with penury ; and Bethlehem, the house 
of bread, becomes a house of famine. A fruitful land 
God maketh barren, for the wickedness of them that 
dwell therein. 

The earth is the Lord's, and it is lawful for man to 
depart from one region to another. Elimelech and his 
family remove, by reason of the famine, from Judah to 
Moab. The Creator and Governor of the world has not 



108 hull's scripture histoky. 

confined his servants to one spot, at the hazard of want- 
ing the necessaries of life. Neither pleasure, nor profit, 
nor curiosity takes the husband of Naomi from his coun- 
try. JVecessity compels him to seek in Moab the suste- 
nance which he could not find in Israel. 

How careful was Abraham to procure a wife of his 
own kindred for Isaac ! How solemnly did Isaac enjoin 
the son of his love not to enter into affinity with the 
daughters of Canaan! The sons of Elimelech know no 
such restraints; soon do they form unhallowed alliances 
in the country of Moab. But the hand of death is upon 
them, and in the early bloom of youth they are sum- 
moned to the grave of their father. Their wives are 
widows — their mother childless and helpless among in- 
fidels. The miserable INaomi finds herself bereaved of 
her country, her husband, her children, her friends ; and 
in solitude and wretchedness is constrained to struggle 
with an unpitying world. 

Unto the godly there ariseth light in the darkness — 
from these shapeless ruins Jehovah raises comfort to 
his servant. She learns that God hath visited his peo- 
ple with bread. Elimelech, alas ! is no more — her sons 
are in the tomb — she will make one effort to re-visit her 
kindred and the land of her nativity. Behold the ad- 
vantages of the chastisement of God! While Naomi 
prospered she remained contented in Moab — adversity 
recalls her to her country. When our all-wise Corrector 
deprives us of earthly blessings we betake ourselves to 
heaven for refuge — our mind is directed homeward. 

The widow of Elimelech had lost all except her for- 
titude and her trust in God. These yet remain, and sup- 
port her in the stormy night of affliction. No dangers 
appal her, no difficulties tempt her to despair. Neither 
her age, nor her sex, nor her misfortunes divert her from 
the fixed resolution of her soul. When we are left com- 
fortless in the midst of the Moab of this world, if we 



NAOMI. 109 

would return to our better country, we must press for- 
ward to the mark for the prize of the high calling of 
God in Christ Jesus. 

Goodness, even among infidels, will make itself friends. 
The daughters-in-law of Naomi are ready to forsake 
their kindred, their country, their parents for the socie- 
ty of one whose affinity died with her sons. Earnestly 
do they plead for their continuance with her, and they 
are solicitous to participate in those sorrows they are 
unable to remove. 

Naomi is not insensible of the benefits which such 
well-tried affection would procure her, but her generous 
nature rejects comfort itself if it must be purchased by 
the distresses of others. She dissuades them from ac- 
companj'ing her in her poverty, with as much earnest- 
ness as if their presence iiad really been grievous and 
burdensome. 

Orpah listens to the voice of disinterested love, and 
returns from a toilsome journey, to rest — from stran- 
gers, to her kindred — from despair, to contentment. A 
little entreaty will prevail on human nature to consult 
its own ease and convenience. None but a regenerate 
heart chooses rather to suffer adversity with the people 
of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. 

The one sister takes an unwilling farewell, and re- 
turns in tears to her native home. The other knew how 
to estimate the value of Naomi. In comparison with 
her society she held in contempt whatever allurements 
could be found in Moab. '' Entreat me not to depart — 
whither thou ofoest I will 2^0 — where thou dwellest I 
will dwell — thy people shall be my people — thy God my 
God — where thou diest I will die, and there will I be 
buried." Adversity is the true furnace of friendship. 
If love will not abide this fire it is counterfeit. Even in 
voin do we profess our faith in God himself, if we are 
not ready to suffer for him. 



no II.iLL's SCRIPTUHE HISTORY. 

" Behold, thy sister is gone back to her people, and 
to her gods — return thou after her." Beware, chris- 
tian, of such suggestions as these in thy spiritual jour- 
ney ! They have prevailed more with the world than 
all the powers of reason and argument. We think that 
either safe or pardonable for w^hich we have a prece- 
dent. How many are undone because they follow a mul- 
titude to do evil, and have not courage to think and act 
for themselves! "Have any of the rvlers or Pharisees 
believed V The mind can never be steady till it is fixed 
on the firmest ground of assurance — till it can itself lead 
the way toward heaven — till it can say with Joshua, 
(whatsoever become of the world,) '' 1 and my house 
will serve the Lord." 

Nothing can dissuade the widow of Mahlon from ac- 
complishing the purpose of her heart. She arrives at 
Bethlehem, and without a sigh, without a murmur, par- 
takes of the sorrows of that dear and honored friend, 
now no longer Naomi, but IMarah, one experienced in 
sorrows — dead to all pleasures — alive only to bitterness. 

Elimeleeh fled to Moab to avoid the famine ; Boaz 
remained in Bethlehem, and continued rich and power- 
ful. Yet though wealthy, he was not careless — he comes 
into the field to inspect the reapers. Frugality, if it de- 
generate not into avarice, enables us on just occasions to 
be liberal. He who wastes and disregards his substance 
can neither supply his own wants nor those of others. 

Educated in the school of affliction, and called to pe- 
nury by Him who at his pleasure divideth to every one 
as he will, Ruth goes forth to glean in the fields of Boaz. 
The Divine Providence which conducted her thither, 
gives her an early recompense for her love and duty to 
Naomi. From the reapers she experiences kindness — 
from their lord generosity, protection, friendship. Even 
this was a presage of her better estate. She returns 
wealthy with her ephah of barley, and blesses the libe- 



NAOMI, 111 

rality of her benefactor. Wisely doth Naomi counsel 
lier not to be seen in any other field while the harvest 
lasted. A grateful acceptance of favors is in some mea- 
sure a requital of them. The God of heaven bestows 
on us his most precious gifts: O let us not desert him, 
nor turn to the world, which can only a fiord us vanity 
and vexation of spirit! 

And now, secure in her daughter's innocence — in the 
uprightness of her own designs — in the simplicity of 
these primitive days — in the prudence and piety of her 
kinsman — Naomi dismisses Ruth to the threshing-floor 
of Boaz. The silence of the night, the festivity of the 
season, the improbability of discovery, the youth and 
beauty of the stranger, prevail not against the chastity 
of this servant of God. The progenitor of Him who 
was innocence itself blesses her as a father, encourages 
her as a friend, rewards her as a patron, and sends her 
away no less pure, and far more happy, enriched by his 
present bounty and by his promises of future kindness. 

From the threshing-floor Boaz repairs to the gate, and 
assembles the elders of Bethlehem. The object of his 
love, destitute as she was of friends and fortune, had 
yet the best of all portions. '^ The city of my people 
doth know that thou art a virtuous woman." Virtue, 
where it meets a heart that knows how to value it, is of 
far, far more estimation than thousands of gold and silver! 

The legal impediments are removed — Ruth becomes 
the wife of Boaz. Her faith, her meekness, her piety 
meet with their merited and distinguished reward — 
Marah is once more Naomi — God hatli turned her hea- 
viness into joy, hath put off' her sackcloth and girded 
her with gladness. How sure and how bountiful are his 
rewards! AVho ever came under the shadow of his 
wings in vain? Who ever lost by trusting in him'? 
Who ever forsook the Moab of this world for the true 
Israel, and did not at last rejoice in the exchange 1 



112 hall's scripture history. 



24.— THE BIRTH OF SAMUEL. 

The house of God in Shiloh was often the resort of 
the pious Elkanah. Frequently he appeared there in his 
course of attendance as a descendant of Aaron — thrice 
a year with his sons — once, on the day of solemn an- 
nual sacrifice, with all his familJ^ His office led him to 
assist at the oblations of others, but he would not with- 
hold his own. He admonishes the people not to appear 
empty before their God, and what he enjoins he prac- 
tices. Those who teach others ought ever to be exam- 
ples to them in word, in conversation, in charity, in 
spirit, in faith, in purity. 

There is nothing more lovely than cheerfulness in the 
service of God. He whom God visits with his salvation 
fails not to rejoice in the gladness of his people, and to 
give thanks with his inheritance. The day of Elkanah's 
devotion is the day of his triumph. What earthly joy 
can so elevate the heart of man as the light of God's 
countenance and favor] 

The childless Hannah finds in her festal portion a 
proof of her husband's love. It is the property of true 
mercy to regard the weakest ; in our disappointments 
and sorrows we become especial objects of the indul- 
gence of our God. He knows how to dispense his fa- 
vors so as to give us cause both for humility and grati- 
tude. Much is granted by our all-gracious Creator — 
something he yet leaves us to desire. Were it not so, 
mankind would be too haughty or too miserable. 

But the love of Elkanah, thus wisely and well be- 
stowed, causes the matron to endure the persecution 
and taunts of her envious rival. Peninnah, surrounded 
by her youthful oflspring, cannot taste happiness but at 
the price of another's misery. A good heart, while it 
enjoys the blessing of God, can pity those that want; 



THE BIRTH OF SAMUEL. 113 

uhile envy produces only one benefit, that the sin of 
others teaches us patience and charity. On the return 
of each solemnity was Hannah made the victim of jea- 
lousy and scorn — every year was she disturbed in her 
sacrifice and at her devotions. Amidst their festivity 
her cup was bitterness — she mingled her drink with 
weeping. Yet the husband of this afflicted mourner en- 
deavored, with unremitted tenderness, to assuage her 
sorrows. " Why weepest thou 1 Am I not better to 
thee than ten sons f It is the too common weakness 
of the feeling heart to give such advantage to an enemy. 
What would malice requfre, but the distress of those it 
persecutes] In so doing we delight our adversary — we 
betray our own cause — we burn incense on the altar of 
envy — we bring on ourselves aggravated wrongs. Un- 
der such trials as these our best security is to possess 
our souls in patience. Anger is then disgraced and de- 
feated j the envenomed weapons fall harmless at the feet 
of those who would fasten them in our bosoms. 

The comfort which she cannot find in the persuasions 
of her husband, Hannah seeks in the mercy of heaven. 
She rises from the feast — she repairs to the temple of 
God — she pours out her complaint before him — she 
shows before him her trouble. Whatever be the afflic- 
tion, here is the remedy. In the worst of calamities, 
prayer is yet the christian's resource j when all other 
help fails him this remains, and, while he has a heart, 
comforts it. 

The grief of Hannah adds fervor to her devotion ; she 
v/eeps, she prays, she vows. If God will grant her a son, 
she will consecrate the precious gift to the Giver. If 
his birth shall make him a Levite, her still more solemn 
dedication shall make him a Nazarite j and even his mi- 
nority shall be devoted to the temple. If we would ob- 
tain any benefit, let us ask it of God with a reference to 
his glory, and we shall not solicit in vain. 



114' hall's scripture history. 

The prayers of this afflicted servant of God, at the 
moment of their utterance, are strangely misconstrued 
by his priest. Her grief, her devotion, the humility of 
her demeanor protect her not from an unkind and rash- 
ly-formed suspicion. Eli taxes her with intemperance. 

Inured to reproaches, she answers in all the meekness 
and serenity of conscious innocence j and, without en- 
tering into a clamorous expostulation, professes herself 
to be no daughter of Belial, but a woman troubled in 
spirit. Eli sees his error and recants it,* and, to make 
amends for his unjust censure, dismisses her with his 
blessings and his prayers. 

She began her devotions in sorrow — she concludes 
them in thankfulness and joy. Great is the peace of 
that heart which has unburdened its cares, and addresses 
its fervent supplications to God. The prayer of faith is 
no sooner made on earth than it is heard in heaven. 
When we have sought unto God in our distress, we 
shall obtain either relief or patience. 

The sacrifice is ended. Elkanah and his family rise 
up to return to Ramah. Blessed is she that believeth, 
for there shall be a performance of those things which 
were told her from the Lord. The son of his mother's 
prayers, in his very name, shall acknowledge the mercy 
which gave him being, and the vow which consecrated 
him to heaven. 

When the appointed time returns, the father of Samuel 
calls his family to their holy journey — bids them prepare 
for their anniversary sacrifice, when their feet shall 
stand within the gates of the sanctuary. The success 
of those prayers which Hannah had offered up in the 
house of God now detains her at home. The charge of 
her infant is a temporary obstacle to devotions, which 
shall afterwards be paid with increase of gratitude and 
love. That soul is cold and indifferent to religion which 
en idle and needless pretences absents itself from the 



THE BIRTH OF SAMUEL. 113 

service of God. Necessary works of charity alone af- 
ford a dispensation. The world is then his temple, and 
whatsoever we do becomes an act of devotion. 

At last, when her child is weaned, she goes up and 
pays that vow which she promised with her lips jjnd 
spake v/ith her heart when she was in her affliction. 
Never did she go up to worship with so joyful a heart 
as now, when she offers to God that precious gift which 
his goodness bestowed and her grateful piety returns. 
Nor does she only present her son, but brings with him 
sacrifices more costly and more numerous than the law 
of God enjoins. She deems all this too little to express 
her thankfulness for the mercy which remembered and 
the power which removed her sorrows. If our hearts 
are truly sensible of the loving-kindness of God, we 
shall rejoice in the tribute of praise more than in the 
benefits themselves which we acknowledge. We shall 
be as anxious to show our humble and fervent affections 
as to attain the object of our wishes. We shall not rest 
till we have attempted to discharge (how feebly and 
imperfectly soever) our debt of gratitude. 

The obligation of a secret vow is no less than if it 
had been made before ten thousand witnesses. The pro- 
mise, whereby the mother of Samuel devoted him to 
God, was uttered in solemn silence. It was enough that 
her own heart knew it, and God, who is greater than 
the heart. " For this child I prayed — now therefore I 
have given him unto the Lord." 

Eli beholds with joy the fruit of those prayers to 
which his own blessing had given a sanction — he now 
receives the matron, not with suspicion, but with affec- 
tionate welcome. His heart is moved. The proof which 
was afforded of the mercy of God and the grateful fidel- 
ity of his handmaid, called him to his knees : he wor- 
shipped the Lord. In vain do we contemplate the good- 
ness of our heavenly Father and the virtues of our 



116 hall's scripture history. 

christian brethren, if we do not glorify God for his 
mercy to others as well as to ourselves. 

The happy mother returns, enriched with the bless- 
ings of God and of his servant. That piety, which de- 
voted her only child to heaven, does not fail of its re- 
ward. The gift is recompensed with a lavish hand. A 
numerous offspring repay her for that one, who was no 
less hers because he was God's. No longer is she the 
subject of indignity and scorn — no longer is she asham- 
ed when she speaketh with her enemies in the gate. She 
blesses Him who maketh the barren woman to keep 
house and to be a joyful mother of children. 



25.— E L I . 

The sons of Eli are as profligate as their father is 
holy. Had example or education the power of entailing 
virtue, we should not behold the consecrated vestments 
profaned by the crimes of Hophni and of Phinehas. But, 
alas, in these ministers of God, these attendants at his 
eacred altar, we see nothing but monsters of impiety, 
sacrilege and lust. When such as these are degenerate, 
their wickedness is above all others, as their office is 
more eminently sacred. An abandoned priest is the 
greatest criminal upon earth. 

Thus that altar, which expiated the sins of the people, 
added to those of the descendants of Aaron. But while 
the altar sanctified not its ministers, their want of sanc- 
tity deprived not the offering of its efficacy. The de- 
pravity of the priest is his own — the comfort of the or- 
dinance is from God. The ministers of religion may 
show the path to heaven by their voice^ while their feet 



ELI. 117 

walk in the way toward destruction. A sacerdotal habit 
may enclose a heart full of all subtlety and mischief — 
and he whose doctrine tends to bring salvation to others, 
must take heed to himself, or he will be a cast away. 

Unjustly, therefore, did the people abhor the offer- 
ing of the Lord because of the impiety of his minis- 
ters. It is dangerous not to distinguish between the 
work and tlie agent. If we are ofTended with our God 
because offence comcth from man, we charge our 
Maker foolishly, and are deservedly the objects of his 
displeasure. 

All Israel exclaimed at 'the flagitious conduct of Eli's 
children. If their father knew it not, his ignorance was 
criminal — nothing but age can plead in his excuse, that 
his voice was not first heard in rebuking the offenders ; 
but now, when his eyes can no longer be closed against 
the truth, his admonitions are so gentle, his partiality 
so notorious, that whether as a father, a high priest, or 
a judge, he sacrifices his acknowledged duty to the 
feelings of misplaced indulgence. He forbore not to 
reprove the mother of Samuel with severity, on the 
bare suspicion of a fault ; but the notorious villany of 
Hophni and Phinehas shall pass unnoticed, or be com- 
mented on in such a manner as to meet with coun- 
tenance rather than discouragement. '' Nay, my sons, 
it is no good report that I hear." Was this an adequate 
censure, was this a just punishment for those who were 
guilty of such flagrant offences 1 of rapine — of adulte- 
ry — of profanation ? 

But while human authority thus sleeps, the justice of 
God is awake. Eli shall learn that his imprudent ten- 
derness towards his offspring was barbarity in the ex- 
treme. The sentence is gone forth. ^' He shall see his 
enemy in the habitation of the Lord — his sons shall be 
cut off in one day — the honor of the priesthood shall be 
taken from his house — his posterity shall make humble 



118 hall's SCHIPTtJRE HISTORY. 

application to his successors for a piece of silver and a 
morsel of bread." 

The lights of the tenr^ple were dim and ready to give 
place to morning, when God called Samuel to denounce 
his indignation against the ofTenders. Unaccustomed as 
yet to the heavenly voice, and mistaking it for that of 
Eli, the youth repairs to his master and demands his 
pleasure — while the high-priest, as better acquainted 
with the ways of heaven, attributes to God those ac- 
cents which himself heard not. He is a more careful 
fsuardian, than a father — he teaches Samuel v»'hat he 
shall ansvx^er : '' Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth 1" 

Several years had Samuel ministered before the 
Lord — never till now had he been addressed in person. 
Lo, the first words miraculously imparted to him are 
demonstrations of terror and vengeance. God begins to 
prepare the hearts of his servants with holy fear; he 
makes those sensible of his greatness whom he calls to 
be eminent instruments of his glory. 

The conscience of the high-priest whispered to him 
that the Divine message concerned himself — sin needs 
no vision to assure it of punishment. A mind thus dis- 
turbed forebodes terrible things; and though it cannot 
single out the judgment allotted to it, is yet in a con- 
fused expectation of some tremendous evil. Poverty, 
death, desolation to himself and his offspring, was de- 
nounced from the God he had offended. Eli receives 
the dreadful sentence with unmoved patience and hum- 
ble submission. '' It is the Lord — let him do what seem- 
eth him good." O admirable faith, and more than hu- 
man resolution ! Constancy, worthy of the venerable 
priest of Jehovah, worthy of a heart sacrificed to hea- 
ven ! However culpable with respect to his sons, lie is 
dutiful to God ; and meekly resigns himself to the good 
pleasure of the Almighty. " It is the Lord, whom I have 
ever found holy, and just, and gracious. Let him do 



ELI. 119 

what seemeih him good — for whatever seemeth him good 
cannot be otherwise than good, however it may seem 
to me !" Every man can receive the blessings of heaven 
with complacency — but to bow the knee in adoration to 
our Creator when he visits us in indignation, this, thisr 
is peculiar only to the faithful ! 

The scandal was public ; so must be the punishment. 
Repentance prevents the elcrnal displeasure of God — 
but it may be necessary both for the sinner and for 
mankind that the temporal judgment take its course. 
Be it our care, and the subject of our earnest prayers 
to the Almighty, that what cannot be averted may at 
least be sanctified ! The exhortation speaketh unto us 
as unto children, "My son, despise not thou the chast- 
ening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of 
him ; for wdiom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and 
scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." The venera- 
ble Eli must drink of the same cup with the wise and 
beloved Solomon. " I will be to him a father, and he 
shall be to me a son. If he commit iniquity I will chast- 
en him with the rod of men, and with the stripes of 
the children of men — but my mercy shall not depart 
away from him for ever." 

The presumption of Israel gave early opportunity 
for the infliction of that sentence denounced against 
the sons of Eli. The people are smitten before their 
enemies — they send for the ark of God into the field. 
Who gave them such authority ] Not Eli — not Sam- 
uel — not the God of Samuel. The rashness of the 
elders, the superstition of the populace, which flourish- 
ed amidst the decline of true piety, caused this im- 
pious profanation. When the ark is brought into the 
host Israel fills the heaven and shakes the earth with 
acclamations. Hypocrites rest all their hopes in the 
externals of religion, and regard not the soul and sub- 
stance of it, whence only they can obtain salvation and 



120 hall's scripture history. 

peace. But God will not become the minister of sin — 
rather shall his own ark fall into the hands of the Phi- 
listines than he will give countenance to the madness 
of the people. Israel is discomfited — the ark, which 
had been brought into contempt, is carried into cap- 
tivity — and the authors of this complicated mischief are 
justly cut off in their sin. 

The messenger who ran from the host, filled the 
city with cries — they reach the ears of Eli. The good 
old man, after ninety-eight years, still sits in the judg- 
ment-seat as one who never thought himself too aged 
to do God service. He hears the news of Israel's de- 
feat, of the death of his sons, with sorrow and yet with 
patience — but when he is told that the ark of God is 
taken, he can live no longer — the word strikes him 
down from his throne, and lays his grey head in the 
dust. Not outward magnificence, not state, not wealth, 
not favor, but the presence of Jehovah is the preserva- 
tion of his Church; when this is gone the glory is 
departed from Israel. O worse than no people, more 
miserable than the very heathen ! Philistines depart in 
triumph with the ark and victory. The scattered rem- 
nant of Israel behold with horror that their iniquities 
have separated between them and their God. 



26.— SAUL ANOINTED. 

Early did Samuel begin his acquaintance with God, 
jmd he continued it to his grey hairs. If we are faithful 
to our heavenly Master, our age endears us to him the 
more. When the shadows of the evening are stretched 
out and the day is declining upon us. He who hath made 



SAUL ANOIMED. 121 

and sustained us hitherto, \vill continue still to support 
and deliver us. 

Had the sons of Samuel resembled their parent, Israel 
had not so earnestly desired a king — but these youth- 
ful judges walk not in the ways of their father — they 
accept bribes — they pervert judgment. The Hebrews 
are clamorous for a new form of government ; and God, 
whose ancient purpose it was to raise up a king to 
Israel, thinks fit to listen to their importunity. The 
prophet applies to heaven for direction, and He by 
whom kings reign undertakes to appoint the sovereign 
of his people. 

The father of Saul was distinguished amidst the tribe 
of Benjamin — his son was graceful and majestic in per- 
son, and as yet uncorrupted in mind. The providence 
of God brings this youth to the place of Samuel's 
abode — he comes on the festal day of sacrifice — he 
comes, and he finds the prophet prepared for his recep- 
tion. God had already foretold his arrival : already he 
had commanded Samuel to anoint him king over Israel. 

How kindly is Saul received and entertained by 
Samuel, whose present dignity was to be eclipsed by 
the royalty of his youthful guest! Instead of envying 
his successor's greatness, instead of looking unkindly 
on the man who should deprive him of his authority, he 
welcomes him to his house, bids him to the feast, ho- 
nors him w^ith the chief seat, and forbears not to inti- 
mate his approaching dignity : '* On whom is the desire 
of Israel 1 Is it not on thee, and on thy father's house V* 

Amazed at so strange a salutation, Saul modestly de- 
clines this unexpected and unmerited homage — ^justly 
represents his tribe as the least of Israel, and meekly 
deems himself the meanest of his family. Benjamin had 
not yet recovered from its almost universal slaughter — 
yet from this remnant of a tribe God selects a prince 
for his people — on these desolate ruins he raises a 

Script. Hist. 6 



122 hall's scaiPTURE history. 

throne. It was doubtless in sincerity that Saul thus hum- 
bled himself before the prophet of God — his beginning 
promised happiness to himself and to Israel, but true 
jrrace was not in him — he bare not fruit in age. Bless- 
ed is he that endureth unto the end — for he shall be 
saved. 

At length Samuel unveils to the astonished youth 
the whole counsel of God — he bestows the oil of regal 
consecration on his head, the kiss of homage on his 
cheek, and sends him away rich in joyful expectation. 
And now, lest his amazement should end in distrust, he 
gives him a proof of his intelligence with heaven, by 
foretelling those events which should befall him on his 
return ; he shows him whom he shall meet, what they 
shall say, how himself shall be affected. Every word 
prepares him for his approaching coronation. No sooner 
vsas Saul departed from the presence of Samuel than 
God gave him another spirit, raised his thoughts and 
dispositions to the height of royalty, prepared his head 
and his heart for the diadem, and taught him how to 
represent himself, and supply the place of God to his 
people. 

After partaking in the defeat and confusion of their 
idol, after experiencing the terror of God's avenging 
thunders, the Philistines had long refrained from hosti- 
lities against Israel ; but other enemies were in their 
borders J and Nahash with his Ammonites was at their 
gates. The commencement of Saul's reign is a season 
of war and tumult. The anointed king shrinks from a 
task so full of difficulty and danger, till the God who 
had chosen him brings him forth to the light, offers 
him to the applause and admiration of his people. 

Nov/ the people shout for joy ; they behold the so- 
vereign whom they had anxiously desired ; they behold 
his majestic person, his royal demeanor, and they en- 
tertain the most flattering presages of happiness under 



SAUL ANOIMED. 123 

his protection. Samuel, who had ceased to be their 
judge, was yet their prophet; in this moment of trans- 
port he instructs both king- and people in their mutual 
duties J he writes them in a book, he lays it up before 
the Lord. The most powerful monarch is still under 
subjection to the laws of heaven. If he transgress these 
he is accountable to One who is higher than the high- 
est, King of kings and Lord of lords. Equally anxious 
for the welfare of the prince and people, Samuel teaches 
the former justice and moderation, the latter obedience 
and loyalty. Whoever disseminates other doctrines, 
does his utmost to effect the ruin of the community, 
and is the adversary of God and man. 

There was never yet virtue so perfect as to escape 
detraction. Amidst the rejoicings of Israel at the in- 
auguration of Saul, murmurs of dissatisfaction were ut- 
tered by the seditious. They well knew that Saul had 
been raised to his dignity by the immediate appoint- 
ment of God — that he sought it not — that he coveted 
it not — that he modestly retired from the exercise of it. 
The honor of his family, the beauty of his person, the 
privilege of his Divine authority, the praises bestowed 
on him by Samuel, could not protect him from obloquy ; 
even merit and virtue afford sufficient ground for envy 
in the soul of the wicked. In such cases a man's com- 
fort arises from himself j from the conscious rectitude 
of his heart. 

The armies of Nahash approach, the danger grows 
more and more imminent, and the news of Gilead's dis- 
tress fills all Israel with affliction. The people are in 
tears ; Saul is moved with ardor rather than sorrow. 
God, who had before given him the spirit of prophecy, 
now bestows on him a spirit of fortitude : now he proves 
himself worthy of a throne, worthy to be the prince and 
captain of his people. He undertakes and accomplishes 
the deliverance of Gilead ; assembles Israel, leads them 



l^i HALLOS scninuRE iiistohy. 

to the field, raises the siege, puts the enemy to flight, 
brings peace and victory to his country. 

The grateful Israelites now inquire who they were 
whose voices had refused allegiance to such a leader. 
*' Bring forth these men, that we may slay them." The 
crime of these men was the same, had Saul been defeat- 
ed in Gilead j but now his triumph animates the hearts 
of his people, and teaches them to call down instant 
vengeance on the head of his enemies. The king him- 
self, who had been injured most deeply, prevents its 
execution. He will not have any interruption to the 
general joy. No blood shall flow by the hand of Israel 
but that of the invaders. " There shall no man die this 
day ; for this day the Lord hath saved his people." 

How nobly was the beginning of Saul's reign adorned 
with every royal virtue — with wisdom, valor and cle- 
mency ! His prophecies showed him to be miraculously 
w^ise ; his battle and victory bore witness to his cour- 
age ; his pardon of these rebels demonstrated his mer- 
cy. He who had conquered the Ammonites was now 
triumphant in a severer conflict ; he overcame the emo- 
tions of anger and resentment ; he knew when to draw 
the sword and when to let it rest harmless in the scab- 
bard. He who is slow to anger is greater than the 
mighty ; and he who ruletli his spirit, than he who 
taketh or rescueth a city. Now the Israelites see they 
have a king who can both shed blood and spare it. His 
gentleness gains those whom even his valor had not 
won to loyalty. Had he but continued as he began, 
David had remained in the peaceful obscurity of his 
pastoral life. Mercy and justice are inseparable in God; 
they should dwell conjointly in the hearts of kings. 
Wheresoever they are severed, government falls into 
distraction, and terminates in ruin. 



SAMUEL A^D DAVID, 125 



27.— SAMUEL AND DAVID. 

To declare the end from the beginning is solely the 
prerogative of infinite wisdom. In the commencement 
of Saul's reign he was renowned for courage, justice, 
and mercy ; in its progress he proved to be a sacri- 
legious tyrant and a rebel against God. Samuel mourns 
for him, who was too obdurate to mourn for himself. 
The defection of Saul brings tears into the eyes of the 
aged prophet. Had one spark of ambition lurked in his 
heart, he had rejoiced at the misconduct of his rival — 
but his heart was the seat of nobler passions. It grieves 
him to see the plant so soon withered which he had 
raised to such distinguished honor in the garden of 
Israel. He weeps, and he retires to Ramah — he will no 
longer be a witness of enormities which he can neither 
prevent nor remedy. He will not countenance that man 
with his presence, on whom he sees God frown. 

The Almighty does not blame this sorrow, but mode- 
rates it. "How long wilt thou mourn for Saul ]" Those 
tears which flow justly for his sin, must cease, because 
of his rejection. A good heart relies on the justice of 
God's decrees, and forgets all earthly prepossessions, 
while it has respect to heaven. God will not bereave 
his children of a king, but will bestow on them one 
more worthy. Virtue and sovereignty shall be united — 
Jehovah himself shall rule by the ministry of his chosen 
servant. Happy are the people who are in such a case; 
yea, blessed are the people who have the Lord for their 
God. 

The prophet receives a commission to repair to Deth- 
lehem. He carries with him, not a sceptre, in token of 
dominion, but the holy oil, to indicate Divine consecra- 
tion. He is directed to the house of Jesse, the descend- 
ant of Ruth the Moabitess. Her faith and piety made 



126 

her worthy to become the parent of kings. The retri- 
butions of God are ever bountiful, and exceed our ut- 
most deservings. The just man walketh in his integ- 
rity — his children are blessed after him. 

The policy is not unlawful which eludes the suspi- 
cion of a jealous tyrant. Samuel takes a heifer with 
him for sacrifice. There was no place, no time where- 
in it was not fit for the descendant of Aaron to offer 
peace-oflerings unto God j but when a king was to be 
anointed, it was an act, not merely of devotion, but of 
necessity. The authority which is derived from God 
must be consecrated by public solemnities; every im- 
portant action requires a sacrifice to bless it, much 
more that on which depends the welfare of a church 
and nation. 

The elders of Bethlehem conjectured, not without 
reason, that matters of highest import had drawn the 
prophet from his retirement. They feared lest some 
root of wickedness, springing up amongst them, had 
given occasion for the arrival of this unexpected guest. 
They welcome him with trembling, not on his account, 
but their own. " Comest thou peaceably V It is a good 
thing to revere the messengers of God, and to expect 
their admonitions with awe. The elders rejoice to hear 
of no other errand than a sacrifice — they hasten to pre- 
pare themselves for the pious solemnity. We must not 
presume to sacrifice unto God if we are not sanctified. 
Unrepented sin, lurking in the heart, renders our devo- 
tions ineffectual, and the prayer of the hypocrite is 
abomination, because he profanes that which should 
be holy. 

All the citizens sanctify themselves ; but Jesse and 
his sons are more especially sanctified by Samuel. In- 
teresting as his errand was to all Israel, it was peculiarly 
so to this distinguished family. With what anxiety did 
Samuel look on the sons of Jesse, that he might see the 



SAJIUEL AND DAVID. 127 

face of the man whom God had chosen I And now, 
when the eldest son came forth, a youth whose heauty 
was not inferior to that of Saul, he imagines the choice 
soon made, and the first impulse of his heart is to pour 
the consecrated oil on the head of Ellab. " Surely the 
Lord's anointed is before him." The best judgment is 
subject to deceit — the holiest prophet falls into error 
if he waits not for the direction of God. 

That which should have forewarned Samuel, deceives 
him. He had seen these very hopes once frustrated, 
and yet his eye suggests to him that Eliab was appointed 
to rule. But what saith the answer of God unto him ] 
*'Look not on his countenance, nor on the height of his 
stature, because I have refused him — for God seeth not 
as man seeth." The king whom he will choose shall owe 
his advancement not to his person, but to his heart. 
Seven sons of Jesse are presented to the prophet — no 
one is omitted whom their father thought worthy of 
honor. If Samuel or Jesse had chosen, David had never 
been king — yet behold him summoned from the fold, 
and by the choice ofOod destined to the throne! Even 
a father's partiality could not suggest ought to Jesse 
which might induce him to offer David as a candidate 
for honors — yet him hath God fixed on to rule. 

The countenance of David was fair and ingenuous- 
hut he was left with the sheep while his brethren were 
at the sacrifice. j\Iodest and simple in his demeanor, 
he was judged unfit for royal dignity. The purport of 
this consecration, though probably explained to Jesse, 
was doubtless concealed from his children. They un- 
derstood not, or believed not what God would do with 
their brother. They saw him endued with spiritual 
gifts, but knew not whither they tended. David returns 
to his sheep, and in humble submission to the will of 
God resigns himself to the disposition of those hands 
which had chosen him — when suddenly a messenger is 



128 hall's scripture history. 

sent from Saul to call him in all haste to that court 
of which he should afterwards be master. The occa- 
sion is from God as well as the event. 

That the kingdom is departed from iSaul is his least 
misfortune. The Spirit of God departs also from him. 
His soul droops in melancholy dejection, or raves with 
tumultuous frenzy. His courtiers have recourse to an 
expedient, innocent at least, if not fully efficacious, to 
allay the tempest of his passions. They call in the 
assistance of music — they fly for aid to the harp of the 
son of Jesse. 

David, from the time of his consecration, had lived in 
the same peaceful retirement as before — his only care, 
his only ambition was to promote the welfare of his 
flock. But the wisdom of God finds occasion to bring 
him on that theatre where he was to shine with unri- 
valled lustre. However he is neglected by his brethren, 
the acts of his youthful prowess against the tyrants of 
the desert are rehearsed — the fame of his virtues and 
accomplishments is not buried in obscurity. That skil), 
which had for its object no more than the recreation of 
a pastoral life, shall now introduce him into the pre- 
sence of his afflicted sovereign. 

Doubtless the father of David noted these things, and 
pondered them in his heart. He could not but behold 
the wonderful interposition of Divine Providence, by 
which the youth, who was brought from the field to be 
anointed, was summoned thence as unexpectedly to the 
palace of Saul. Now he perceived that God was pre- 
paring for the accomplishment of his promise ; and he 
awaited the issue in joyful expectation. 

No sooner is David in the presence of Saul than he 
obtains the royal favor. The Giver of all grace has or- 
dained that even wicked men should honor the virtues 
which they wili not imitate. The harp of David chases 
away the melancholy of his lord — the psalms which he 



DAVID AND GOLIATH. 129 

sung to it sooth his frantic despair. To this day their 
efficacy is undiminished. Our hymns and spiritual 
songs are adverse to the powers of darkness, and re- 
joice the hlessed angels of heaven, who sing their hal- 
lelujahs in the choir of glory. " It came to pass, when 
the evil spirit was upon Saul, that David took a harp 
and played with his hand ; and Saul was refreshed, and 
was well, and the evil spirit departed from him." 



28.— DAVID AND GOLIATH. 

The harp of David has chased the evil spirit from 
Saul, and the youth has again leisure to retire to 
Bethlehem. The splendor of a court is less dear to 
him than the solitudes of the wilderness. A good heart 
frames itself to all conditions, and however outward 
circumstances vary, is still the same. Worldly minds 
rise without difficulty, but cannot descend from their 
elevation with patience or with safety. 

There he remains amidst his flocks till God calls him 
into the field of battle. Forty days had Goliath defied 
the armies of Israel. Where was the courage of him 
who once slew his thousands'? — of him, who once in- 
dignantly asked, '' What aileth the people, that they 
weep V — of him, whose own gigantic stature made him 
no unequal competitor to the Philistine \ The spirit 
of God is the spirit of fortitude — of that Saul's diso- 
bedience had deprived him — it was transferred, with 
the prophet's blessing, to his rival. 

Scarcely has David saluted his brethren, when the 
proud champion steps forward before his troops and 
renews his insolent challenge against Israel. David 

6* 



130 

sees him, hears his defiance, and wonders that all faces 
turn pale at his approach. The youth is filled with 
Bhame and amazement at the pusillanimity of his coun- 
trymen — who, while they fly from Goliath, speak of the 
reward which should be consequent on a victory they 
dare not undertake. Alas, how many, who yield ihcm- 
selves an easy prey to their spiritual adversaries, can 
descant on the glory reserved in heaven for the faithful ! 

Those difficulties v/hich appal faint hearts serve to 
animate an heroic mind. David is ready to encounter 
this mighty wariior, because no one else dares behold 
him. While he hears the proud boast of the challen- 
ger his eyes sparkle with indignation, his heart beats 
with generous disdain. '^ Who is this uncircumcised 
Philistine that ho should defy the armies of the living 
Godl" 

The envious heart of Eliab considers this holy cou- 
rage as a reflection on himself. " Is it for thee, proud 
idle boy, to interfere with affairs of war 1 Is yonder 
champion a fit antagonist for thee 1 What dost thou 
think of thyself or of us 1 Go to thy sheep, and look 
not in the face of Goliath. The wilderness becomes 
thee, and not the field, unequal as thou art to any here, 
save only in arrogance and presumption. The pastures 
of Bethlehem could not detain thee ; thou must come 
down to see the battle. I know thy pride, and the 
naughtiness of thine heart. This was thy thought — 
There is no glory to be obtained amidst the sheep-folds; 
I will seek it in arms. J\Iij brethren are winning honor 
amidst the troops of Israel , while I am basely te?iding 7ny 
flocks Why should not I cjideavor to obtain distinction 
as well as they ? This vanity makes the shepherd a sol- 
dier, and the soldier a champion ! Depart, rash strip- 
ling, to thy crook and to thy harp ; and leave swords 
and spears for those who know how to use them !" 

David, ere he engages in other conflicts, first over- 



DAVID AND GOLIATH. 131 

comes himself, and then his brother — himself, in his pa- 
tient forbearance — his brother, in the mildness of his 
answer, " What have I now done 1 Is there not a 
cause 1" It was not time to return railing for railing, 
when the swords of the Philistines were drawn, and 
Goliath was defying the armies of Israel. Surely this 
triumph was more difhcult and more glorious than that 
which followed. That man is fit to fight the battles of 
the Lord who has learned to be victor over his passions. 

The fire of David's zeal is not to be thus extinguish- 
ed. His courage, which meets with scorn at the hands 
of a brother, finds appla,use amidst unprejudiced hearts. 
The rumor flies to the ears of the king, that a youth is 
found who is desirous of encountering the Philistine. 
David is brought into the presence of Saul. Alas, that 
ungrateful prince has already forgotten not only his 
services but his person ! And now, when he beholds the 
young and ruddy shepherd, and hears him ofier to enter 
the lists with Goliath, he receives him with a contemp- 
tuous pity, *^ Thou art not able to go against this Phi- 
listine to fight with him ; for thou art but a youth, and 
he is a man of war from his youth." 

All this cannot w'eaken that heart which has received 
its strength from faith. David must justify that courage 
to Saul which he is eager to prove against Goliath. He 
modestly recites the past transactions of his life in sup- 
port of his more ambitious pretensions. *' Thy servant 
slew both the lion and the bear; and this uncircumcis- 
ed Philistine shall be as one of them, seeing he hath 
defied the armies of the living God." He knew that the 
presumption of Goliath would be the cause of his de- 
struction — he knew that holiness was an invincible 
shield to the faithful. He had already experienced the 
blessing of God's assistance, and he relied on him for 
his continued favor 

Kesolution thus grounded makes even Saul himself 



132 hall's sciiiriuRE iiistohy. 

confident. David has both his consent and blessing. He 
comes to Saul as a shepherd — he shall go towards Go- 
liath as a warrior. The king's own armor is not too rich 
for one who shall fight for his country. But what avails 
the splendor of Saul's coat of mail if it is not adapted 
to David] The honor is only an encumbrance — danger 
would ensue instead of security. The son of Jesse de- 
clines the glittering burden: his staff, his scrip, his 
sling, five smooth stones out of the brook, are fitter for 
his purpose than royal panoply. A time shall come, 
when David, invested with ail the honors of Saul, shall 
Und them still a burden — heavy, but not to be relin- 
quished, because committed to him by God. If we envy 
the dignity of others, it is through ignorance of the 
anxious cares by which that dignity is accompanied. 
Could we feel their weight, even for a moment, we 
should return to a less exalted station with joy and 
thankfulness. 

Goliath, armed with his sword, and shield, and spear, 
advances into the field. When David appears in the lists 
■with such an adversary, the eyes of Israel and of the 
Philistines are fastened on him. His countrymen behold 
him with anxiety and compassion. " Alas, is that strip- 
ling to contend against so mighty a foe 1 Is he sent un- 
armed to such a contest 1 Is the honor of Israel entrust- 
ed to such hands as these 1" The Philistines, especially 
their champion, look on him with the utmost scorn and 
insult. " Am I a dog, that thou comest against me with 
staves'? Come hither, and I will give thy flesh to the 
fowls of the heaven and to the beasts of the field." 

Presumption is both the presage and the cause of ruin. 
An avenging God, by the arm of David, shall bring to 
nought the arrogance of the unbelievers. Goliath shall 
learn too late, how formidable that enemy is who goeth 
forth in the strength of the Lord God, who abideth un- 
der the shadow of the Almighty. David runs toward the 



DAVID AND GOLIATH. 133 

Philistine, and, full of the hopes of victory, directs the 
stone against his vast forehead. God was not unmindful 
of his servant. He showed strength with his arm : he 
cast down the proud in the imagination of his heart. 
There lies the great defier of Israel, gasping in the 
pangs of death, and biting the earth Avith shame and 
indignation that he falls by the hand of a shepherd. 
So shall all thine adversaries perish, O Lord! 

O thou, who canst arm the weak against the mighty, 
wherefore should we be afraid of man that shall die, and 
the son of man who shall be as grass, and forget thee, 
our refuge and strength", our present help in trouble ? 
Wherefore should we fear in the day of adversity, be- 
cause of the fury of the oppressor, as if he were ready 
to destroy ] Thou, even thou art He that comforteth, 
defendeth, fjghteth for us — and where is the fury of the 
oppressor 1 

Thou turnest the face of the wicked against them- 
selves — thou makest thine enemies the instruments of 
their own destruction. The sword of Goliath, in the 
hand of David, avenges the honor of God and brings 
victory and glory to Israel. 

When the generations of men fled away in terror 
from the powers of darkness, thou, Savior, didst 
undertake our cause alone — thou, O Son of David, by 
thy death destroying death, didst overcome the enemy 
with his own weapons. Now is come salvation, and 
strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power 
of his Christ ; he hath ransomed us ; he hath deliver- 
ed us from the grave. He is gone into heaven, and is 
on the right hand of God; angels, and authorities, and 
powers being made subject unto him. 



ISi hall's scripture history. 



29.— THE DEATH OF SAUL. 

What a striking difference do we behold in the his- 
tory of individuals and of nations, as it pleases Divine 
justice to prosper or to punish ! When the Philistines 
set themselves in array against God a stripling can be 
the occasion of their discomfiture — when they fight the 
Lord's battles, by arming against sacrilegious tyranny, 
the presence of a powerful monarch, or even of the ark 
itself, gives no security to Israel. Then " the Lord 
breaketh in pieces the staff of the ungodly and the scep- 
tre of the rulers. The man who smote the people in 
wrath with a continual stroke, the oppressor, who ruled 
the nations in anger, is persecuted, and none hindereth." 

The prediction of Endor had almost slain Saul before 
the battle. He had forsaken the Lord — he had held com- 
munion with demons — he had received his last morsel 
at the hand of a sorceress — and now necessity draws 
him into that field where he sees nothing but death 
and despair. The prophecy of the counterfeit Samuel 
sunk into the heart of the apostate monarch. Those fa- 
tal words have already stricken him to the ground. He 
expects, in horror and consternation, the doom which, 
however denounced, he is too conscious of having de- 
served. While the mind is uncertain of success, it re- 
lieves itself by the probability of good — even in less 
promising circumstances, there is some mixture of 
hope. Thus far the spirit of a man may sustain his in- 
firmities; but a wounded spirit who can bear 1 Not a 
ray of light penetrates through the gloom — the waters 
overwhelm the despairing sufferer, and the stream goetli 
over his soul. The wages of sin is death ; while the gift 
of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

It is probable that the same moment saw David vic- 
torious over the Amalekiles, and Saul defeated by the 



THE DEATH OF SAUL. 135 

Philistines. David consulted with God, and prevailed — 
Saul with the powers of darkness, and perished. The 
effect is proportionate to its cause — the end corres- 
ponds with the means which led to it. " I call heaven 
and earth to record against you," saith the voice of 
God, " that I have set before you life and death, bless- 
ing and cursing. Have I any pleasure at all in tiie death 
of him that diethl" 

The slaughter of Saul and of his sons did not take 
place in the commencement of this tragedy — these sad 
events were reserved for its awful close. First, the peo- 
ple fly, and fall down wounded on Mount Gilboa — next, 
the sons of Saul are numbered with the slain. Death 
knows no partial distinctions — even Jonathan himself is 
involved in the common destruction. If valor, if holiness, 
if sincerity of heart could have averted the fatal blow, 
Jonathan would have survived — the son of Saul would 
have lived to share in the prosperity of the son of Jesse — • 
to rejoice in his possession of a throne to which him- 
self made no pretensions, the rival of David only in 
friendship and in virtue. God willed it otherwise — he 
had brighter rewards in store for that illustrious youth 
than an earthly diadem. The arrows of the Philistines 
dismiss the royal Jonathan to a more exceeding weight 
of glory than that v.'hich he relinqnished to tlie brother 
of his love. 

Meanwhile the miserable Saul beholds his legions 
scattered, his children lifeless, his enemies triumphant, 
his honor prostrate in the dust. Wounded in body and 
desperate in mind, he sees nothing before him but agony 
and death — and now, destitute of all hope, he requests 
that blow at the hand of his armor-bearer which his in- 
dignant spirit disdained to receive from a Philistine. 
He asks, but he is denied — no entreaty, no extremity 
can move the arm of that faithful servant against his 
lord. Had the unhappy monarch shunned the reality 



13^ hall's scripture history. 

of sin as carefully as the appearance of dishonor, his 
sun had never set in blood — he had neither lived nor 
died a murderer. 

What a faithful servant refuses to execute, his own 
rash hand shall accomplish. Wicked men regard the 
censure of the world more than the peril of their own 
souls. What if Saul had died by the hand of a Philis- 
tine 1 Jonathan his son did so — and yet he died with 
glory. The carnal heart fixes an idea of shame to what 
is in itself either innocent or indifferent ; and for the 
sake of idle popularity scruples not to commit actions 
prejudicial to dearer and better interests. 

Now is the blood of the innocent priests and the me- 
ditated slaughter of David required at the hands of the 
tyrant. From the beginning of his defection to this last 
act of violence he was an enemy to himself and to his 
God. His death corresponds with his life — his own arm 
pays him the reward of all his v/ickedness. 

As yet his spirit lingers, and seems reluctant to de- 
part from its earthly associate. His armor-bearer has 
more successfully imitated the desperate act of his lord, 
and is no more. Saul yet breathes, and drinks to the 
dregs the cup of fury. Chance brings an Amalekite to 
the scene of his sufferings — and he, v. ho had been once 
called and anointed by God, the pride and hope of Israel, 
the terror of their enemie.-, the conqueror of Ammon, 
Amalek and Philistia, receives his last blow, at his own 
impassioned request, from a wayfaring stranger. " Know- 
est thou not this of old, since man was placed upon 
earth, that the triumphing of the wicked is short, and 
the joy of the hypocrite is but for a moment 1 Though 
his excellency mount up to the heavens, and his head 
reach unto the clouds, yet he shall fly away as a dream, 
and shall not be found — he shall be chased away as a 
vision of the night. The eye also which saw him shall 
see him no more, neither shall his place any more be- 



THE DEATH OF SAUL. 137 

hold him. lie shall flee from the iron weapon, and the 
bow of steel shall strike him through. It is drawn, and 
cometh out of his body, yea, the glittering sword passeth 
through his heart. Terrors are upon him. The heavens 
shall reveal his iniquity, and the earth shall rise up 
against him. This is the portion of a wicked man from 
God, and the heritage appointed him by the Almighty." 

Common rumor had already fixed on David as the 
anointed heir to the kingdom of Israel — to be the first 
bearer of news so grateful as the death of Saul — to lay 
the ensigns of royalty at the feet of his successor — to 
be entitled to the reward, not merely of a messenger 
of glad tidings, but of one whose hand, in destroying a 
tyrant, had done good service to the state : what splen- 
did prospects for an Amalekite! '^I am the man to 
whom David owes his kingdom, I am the author of his 
deliverance and his happiness." A mind wherein self- 
love rules with absolute dominion, is unable to compre- 
hend the emotions of a generous heart. 

How is this alien disappointed of his hopes, when he 
finds his tidings the occasion of fasting, and weeping, 
and mourning ! when that voice, half stifled with tears, 
calls him to account for the murder, instead of ac- 
knowledging his merits! Doubtless the stranger plead- 
ed for himself with fair plausible arguments. ''Alas, 
Saul was already fallen upon his own spear — it was 
mercy to shorten his sufferings — his importunate pray- 
ers moved me to hasten his approach to the gates of 
death. Had I stricken him as an enemy, I had perhaps 
deserved the censure, but the blow was that of a friend. 
Why am I regarded with horror for obeying the voice 
of a kingl for perfecting what himself had begun, but 
could not finish! If neither his own wound or mine 
had dispatched him, the Philistines were at hand, ready 
to do that with insult which I did in favor. Had not 
my arm anticipated theirs, where had been the crown 



138 

of Israel which I have presented to thee 1 I could have 
delivered it to Achish, king of the Philistines, and have 
been rewarded with honor. Let me not die for an act 
well meant to thee, however unkindly misinterpreted !" 
But all these excuses avail not to his deliverance. 
" Thy blood be upon thine own head, for thy mouth 
hath testified against thee, saying, I have slain the Lord's 
anointed. Every drop of royal blood is sacred, and he 
who sheds it is accursed of God and man." Of how 
difTerent a spirit from this of David are those men who 
suborn the death of princes, and justify the atrocious 
act, and celebrate and canonize their murderers! "O 
my soul, come not thou into their secret — unto their 
assembly, rnine honor, be not thou united!" 



30.— NATHAN AND DAVID. 

With what terror and amazement, O God, do we con- 
template the transgression of thine anointed servant 1 
What an universal example doth his sin and his repent- 
ance afford to mankind ! What an awful, instructive 
lesson, that we should never be led astray by presump- 
tion or despair! Both are excluded by the crime and 
by the contrition of David. When we see so great a 
saint thus fallen, thus risen, we cannot but be sensible 
of our own infirmities, and the transcendent mercy of 
our God. 

Now the king of Israel is in undisturbed possession 
of his dear bought spouse. The brave and faithful Uriah 
lives no longer. The splendor of royalty has soon dried 
up the tears of his perfidious widow. But the just and 
holy God will not suffer his name to be thus profaned 



NATHAN AND DAVID. 139 

among his people — he will not have occasion given to 
his enemies to blaspheme, without severely punishing 
the oflender. As that offender is more dear to him, the 
sin becornes more heinous, more aggravated. David, 
who has been lost in a lethargy of guilt, shall be sud- 
denly awakened by the terrors of the Lord. 

If any superiority of condition could have afforded a 
privilege from sin, the angels had not transgressed in 
heaven, nor Adam in paradise, nor David on the throne 
of Israel. Yet, alas ! what language can palliate crimes 
of so deep a die, or plead in excuse for the insensibility 
which followed 1 Though some transient remorse might 
have affected his soul, we hear of no effectual repent- 
ance till a faithful monitor is sent, by Divine appoint- 
ment, to call the deluded monarch from the error of his 
ways. Perhaps, had the precious balm been longer with- 
holden, David's wretched impenitence would have been 
protracted. But blessed be the wisdom and mercy of 
God, who out of evil can produce good — who can bring 
light itself out of darkness ! This one sin shall be the 
means of preventing millions. How many would have 
fallen in a vain reliance on their own strength, if David 
had not offended ! How many would have been despe- 
rate in the consciousness of their own guilt, if David 
had not received assurances of pardon ! 

While Nathan complains of the cruel rich man who 
had forcibly taken away the only lamb of his poor neigh- 
bor, David eagerly listens to the storj'. With a rigor 
which no laws could justify, he pronounces sentence 
against the offender. Here was no murder — no adultery, 
yet the blood of the imaginary tyrant must atone for his 
unfeeling cruelty. Little did the king suppose that he 
had uttered these menaces against himself. We have 
open ears to the crimes of others, we are deaf and in- 
sensible to our own ; in the one case, rigorous judges — 
in the other, obsequious parasites. 



140 hall's SCRirXURE HISTORY. 

The life of doctrine is in the application. When the 
prophet brings the word home to the bosom of David 
lie cannot but be sensibly afTected. " Thou art the manJ'^ 
Though David be a king, he shall hear of his faults; 
God's messages are always impartial. To regard great- 
ness on these occasions is treacherous flattery. The 
ambassadors of Christ must be gentle in the form, but 
in the matter of reproof resolute. They are the heralds 
of the King of heaven ; they proclaim his will to man- 
kind — " Thus saith the Lord God of Israel." 

The heart of David is not able to withstand the mes- 
sage of God. Confounded and self-condemned, he cries 
out in the bitterness of a contrite heart, " I have sinned 
against the Lord !" The word was short, but earnest 
and passionate — it came from the bottom of a penitent 
soul. God cares not for studied phrases, but sincerity 
and aflection ; the deepest sorrow is not that which is 
loudest or most loquacious. 

The first step towards repentance is the confession 
of guilt. '^ I have acknowledged my sin unto thee, O 
my God, and mine unrighteousness have I not hid." No 
sooner doth David say to the prophet, " I have sinned 
aoainst the Lord," than he receives the comfortable as- 
surance, " The Lord hath put away thy sin." He that 
covereth his transgressions shall not prosper, but he 
that confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy. 
Who would not accuse himself, to be acquitted by Godl 
Who would not declare his sin to the Searcher of hearts, 
to be relieved from that anguish of spirit which it is 
death to conceal 1 If we have ofTended, why should we 
hesitate to perform that duty which shall at once give 
glory to our Maker and bring consolation to our souls 1 

David had sworn, in a zeal for justice, that the rich 
oppressor, for taking his poor neighbor's lamb, should 
die the death. God is more favorable to David than to 
judge him out of his own mouth. " Thou shalt not die.'* 



NATHAN AND DAVID. HI 

the wonders of redeeming love! The letter of the 
law demanded eye for eye, tooth for tooth, blood far 
blood ; but (as if a penitent confession had dispensed 
with the rigor of justice) God saith, ^' Thou shall not 
die." David was the voice of the laii\ awarding death 
nnto sin: Nathan was the voice of the Gospel, awarding 
life unto repentance. '' Come unto me," saith the Savior 
of mankind, '* all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and 

1 will give j'ou rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn 
of me — my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." 

David himself shall not die for his transgression, but 
he shall be deprived of the son of his adultery; the 
sword shall not depart from his house ; he shall expe- 
rience ingratitude and disaffection from his friends and 
from his children ; he shall afford an example to future 
ages that God can grant absolution, and yet reserve his 
full right to inflict temporal punishment for sin. Where 
he has forgiven he may yet chastise ; he does not for- 
bear present correction, though he remits the future tre- 
mendous sentence. While he smites us not for our of- 
fences as an angry Judge, we may endure to smart at 
the will of a loving Father. 

Yet even this infliction David deprecates with tears. 
The child is sick ; the parent fasts, and prays, and weeps, 
and lies all night upon the earth, and is deaf to the voice 
of comfort. He mourns — he sues that the monument 
of his sin and the record of his shame, for whom he still 
entertained all the fondest sentiments of affection, misht 
even yet be preserved to him. No doubt his grief was 
aggravated by the thought that God, to chastise the 
guiky father, was about to deprive him of his innocent 
child ; while the cheering reflection that the gates of 
heaven would receive the unpolluted spirit which was 
hastening thither, seems for the moment to have been 
hidden from his eyes. Against this stroke he offers his 
prayers— he lifts up his soul to the throne of mercy. 



142 hull's scriptuhe history. 

No chastening is joyous, but grievous ; the best riaturo 
cannot yield to it without some degree of reluctance. 
Far v/as it, nevertheless, from the heart of David to form 
any undue opposition to the will of God; he made use, 
not of murmurs, but supplications. There is no impa- 
tience in entreaties. He well knew that the Divine threat- 
cnings were not so denounced as to be incapable of re- 
vocation. If any means under heaven can avert judg- 
ments, it is the prayer of faith. 

But neither faith nor prayer can preserve a feeble mor- 
tal from all temporal afflictions. Since the admission of 
sin into the world, the decree is gone forth, and '' man 
is born to trouble." David must drink deeply of the cup 
of sorrow — the infant is no more. 

His anxious attendants only whisper this sad news; 
they had witnessed the sufferings of their lord, they now 
look for all the paroxysms of frantic grief. This very 
secresy proclaims to the vigilant ear of suspicion the 
sad truth which they trembled to utter. David perceives 
that his child is dead : and now he rises up from the 
earth on which he lay, and changes his apparel, and 
goes first into the house of the Lord to worship, and 
then into his own to eat — now he refuses not to listen 
to the voice of comfort. Till we know the determina- 
tion of God, it is lawful for us to be importunate in our 
prayers; when the event has taken place, he demands 
our duteous resignation. 

" While the child lived, I fasted and Avept ; for I said, 
Who can tell whether God will be gracious to me, that 
the child may live 1 But now he is dead, wherefore 
should I fast 1 can I bring him back again 1 I shall go 
to him, but he shall not return to me !" There spake 
the voice of faith and hope. David knew that those 
aflections which God hath implanted in the soul would, 
like that soul, survive the body. He knew that a day 
would come when he should rejoin his child, to be se- 



THE CONSriRACY OF ABSALOM. Ii3 

parateJ from him no more. He knew that his sincere 
repentance entitled him to look for a reception in those 
heavenly mansions to which innocence itself is trans- 
lated. " Turn ye unto me, from whom ye have deeply 
revolted — cease to do evil — learn to do well. Let the 
wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will 
have mercy upon him — and to our God, for he will 
abundantly pardon !" 



3L— THE CONSPIRACY OF ABSALOM. 

When the son of Jesse (in the calamities of his early 
life) wandered in the wilderness, an exile, a fugitive, 
his safety every hour endangered by the machinations 
of Saul, there was peace in his soul. In the afflictions 
of his later days he feels the torture pf a self-reprov- 
ing conscience. His future pardon is promised, but not 
without his present suffering. In the heinous offenco 
of Amnon, in the subsequent murder of the guilty prince, 
in the dissimulation by which that murder was effected, 
the unhappy father reads his own transgressions. The 
sting o( sorroWj as well as o[ death, is sin. 

Yet these are the beginnings of wo. Other chastise- 
ment is in store for the king of Israel. He must expe- 
rience the utmost extreme of earthly misery — he must 
meet with the blackest ingratitude from the object of 
his fond affection. 

The tears of David for the irrecoverable loss of his 
first-born now fall no longer — he comforts himself con- 
cerning Amnon, and begins to feel a degree of impa- 
tience for the return of Absalom. The long absence of 



14-i HALLOS SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

that darling son was more a punishment to the king 
than to the prince. Joab perceives the wishes of his 
lord, and artfully inclines him to their accomplishment. 
A woman of Tekoa personates a mourner, and, while 
she speaks of the loss of one child and the danger of 
another, excites in David compassion for himself and 
favor to his banished son. A parable taught him to re- 
pent — a parable teaches him to forgive. 

Now Joab speeds to Geshur. The exiled prince shall 
return to Jerusalem ; but as yet he is not admitted into 
the presence of his father. David's excessive lenity had 
already occasioned him the bitterest sorrows — he now 
assumes a severity of temper he cannot feel. " Let him 
go to his own house, but let him not see my face." 

Two years is Absalom thus excluded from all inter- 
course with his parent. At last his impatient spirit can 
bear this absence no longer He sends for Joab, the so- 
licitor of his return — he requests instant death or un- 
conditional pardon from his father. Perhaps his heart 
was not yet corrupted — or perhaps even now the deep- 
laid stratagem was forming which afterwards brought 
down ruin on his head. '^ Let me see the king's face, 
and if there be iniquity in me, kill me !" Either banish- 
ment or death seemed more tolerable to him than these 
public tokens of the royal displeasure. 

What a torment shall it be to the wicked to be ex- 
cluded from the presence of God without hope of re- 
covery ! Absalom will not live unless he beholds the 
face of that father whom afterwards he most unnatural- 
ly sought to destroy. God is the Father of spirits, with- 
out whom there can be no life, no being. To be exiled 
from Him is eternal death, eternal misery. If in thy 
presence, God, is the fulness of joy, in thine absence 
must be the fulness of anguish and horror. hide not 
thy face from us, but show us the light of thy counte- 
nance, that we may live and declare thy praise ! 



THE CONSPIRACY OF AESALOM. 145 

The impatience of Absalom pleads his cause with a 
fond parent — it seems to demonstrate, beyond all doubt, 
the ardor of his filial affection. Long had David been 
weary of his displeasure — at length he receives his son 
into his favor, and seals his pardon with a kiss of ten- 
derness. Earthly parents know not how to retain ever- 
lasting anger towards their offspring, how much less 
shall the God of mercies be irreconcileably displeased 
with his own, and suffer his indignation to burn like 
fire which cannot be quenched 1 He will not always 
chide, neither keepeth he his anger for ever. His 
wrath endureth but a moment — in his favor is life — 
heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in 
the morning. 

Absalom is now as much distinguished for greatness 
as for beauty. Beauty and greatness excite his pride, 
and pride occasions his ruin. Ambitious spirits will not 
rest contented with moderate prosperity. Before two 
years are expired Absalom frames a plot of most atro- 
cious rebellion. None but his own father was his su- 
perior in Israel ; none was so likely as himself, in all 
human probability, to succeed his father. If his turbu- 
lent mind could have been restrained for a few years, 
he might have expected that by succession which now 
he sought by force. An aspiring heart is always impa- 
tient, and holds time itself an enemy — thrusts itself im- 
portunately betwixt the hope and the enjoyment. Full 
of labor and travail, it has no intermission of its uneasi- 
ness till it hath brought forth its abortive progeny. O 
that our affections were as eager for spiritual and hea- 
venly exaltation! O that our souls were equally ambi- 
tious to feel the weight of that crown of glory ! 

Outward pomp, unaccustomed shows of magnificence 
are wont to affect the light minds of the vulgar. Absa- 
lom, therefore, to the incomparable graces of his per- 
son adds the unusual state of more than royal dignity 

Script Ilisl. * 



146 hall's sceipture history. 

His chariots rattle and his horses trample proudly in 
the streets. Fifty footmen run before their glittering 
master. Jerusalem resounds with the praises of this 
glorious prince, and all are dazzled with his continual 
display of grandeur. The generous David suspects no 
danger from this studied ostentation. His partial love 
considers all this splendor as expressive of joy and 
thankfulness 5 as designed to do honor to their recon- 
ciliation J as not unbecoming the age, the rank, the 
beauty, the virtues of Absalom. 

Having thus engaged the eyes and tongues of the 
people, the insidious prince lays snares for their hearts. 
He rises early and stands beside the way of the gate 
A.nbition is ever vigilant and industrious — the conde 
scension of Absalom is equal to his greatness. How 
gloriously doth the prince of Israel neglect himself, and 
prefer the care of justice to his own gratifications ! His 
ear is open to all who petition, all who complain ; there 
is no cause which he flatters not. '' See, thy matters 
are good and right, and there is none deputed by the 
king to hear thee." What insinuations could be more 
powerful 1 What music is so sweet in the ear of the 
unstable multitude, as to hear themselves commended, 
their governors censured \ Every man says, '^ How 
gracious a prince is Absalom! What a just and care- 
ful ruler would Absalom be % How happy were we, if 
we might be judged by Absalom. These qualities which 
singly exalt a character, conspire in his : beauty of per- 
son, magnificence of state, gracious affability, unwearied 
diligence, humility in the midst of grandeur, the ten- 
derest pity, the most ardent love of justice, the most 
anxious care for the general welfare !" 

Thus the hearts of the people are not won^ but stolen 
by a false traitor from their lawful sovereign. Nothing 
was wanting but a cloak of religion to complete the 
treachery of that ungracious son, whose words were 



THE CONSPIRACY OF ABSALOM. 147 

peaceable, while war was in his heart. How easily is 
this also assumed ! Absalom has a holy vow in Hebron. 
The devout man made it long since in Syria, and now 
hastens to perform it. '' If the Lord shall bring me 
back again to Jerusalem, then will I serve the Lord.'' 
Hypocrites scruple not to profane the name and the 
worship of God himself in the accomplishment of their 
sacrilegious purpose. 

How glad is the good old king that he is blessed with 
so pious a son! How does he, at Absalom's departure, 
implore the favor of heaven on his designs ! The clouds 
of rebellion have long been gathering, at last they burst 
in all their fury over the astonished father. 

With a heavy heart, his head covered, dissolved in 
tears, clothed in sackcloth, David retires from Jeru- 
salem. Never did any sorrow, but that of his sacred 
and innocent Descendant, approach to his sorrow. How 
could he but weep, when the barbarous insurrection of 
a too dearly beloved child drove him from his house, 
from his throne, from the ark of his God ] Shimei fol- 
lows him with curses j Ahithophel, his once faithful 
counsellor, forsakes and betrays him; Absalom, in- 
vested with the royal purple, pursues his life with im- 
placable hatred; and the moment is come when the 
issue of a battle must decide whether David perish in 
his own person or in that of his son. 

''I said. Lord, be merciful unto me, heal my soul, for 
I have sinned against thee. All mine enemies whisper 
together against me, against me do they imagine this 
evil. Let the sentence of guiltiness proceed against him ; 
and now that he lieth, let him rise up no more! Yea, 
even mine own familiar friend in whom I trusted, who 
did also eat of my bread, hath laid wait for me. O thou 
God of my strength, why hast thou forgotten me 1 Why 
go I thus heavily while mine enemies oppress me — 
while they say daily unto me, Where is now thy GodV^ 



lis hall's scripture history. 

''Why art thou cast down, O my soul 1 and why art 
thou disquieted within me 1 Hope thou in God, for I 
shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my counte- 
nance, and my God.'* 



32.— THE DEATH OF ABSALOM. 

The day of battle is come. David, who had formerly 
been clad in armor to defend himself against a tyran- 
nous father-in-law, must now seek the same protection 
against an unnatural son. He musters his soldiers, ap- 
points his commanders, marshals his troops; and since 
their loyal importunity will not suffer him to hazard 
his own person, encourages them with his eye, and re- 
strains them with his tongue. '' Deal gently with the 
young man Absalom, for my sake." O holy David, 
what means this ill-placed love, this unjust mercy 1 
Deal gently with a traitor! that traitor a son ! that son 
an Absalom ! the graceless darling of so good a father ! 
and this for thy sake^ whose crown he had usurped, 
whose blood he was thirsting after! For whose sake 
should Absalom be pursued, if he is spared for thine 1 
He was courteous to thy followers — affable and plausi- 
ble to all Israel — cruel and implacable only to thee. 
And yet thou sayest, "Deal gently with the young man 
Absalom, for my sake." 

O perfect type of that ineffable mercy of the true 
King and Redeemer of Israel, who prayed for his per- 
s'3Cutors, for his murderers, and, while they were at 
once scorning and killing him, could say, " Father, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do !" If we 
are sons, we are ungracious, we are rebellious — but still 



THE DEATH OF ABSALOM. 149 

our heavenly Father hath compassion upon us — conti- 
nues that life to us, and those endowments by which 
we provoke him — and bids his holy angels spare us and 
carry us in their arms. O the depth of the riches of the 
love of God ! Flow unutterable is his goodness, and his 
love past finding out ! 

The battle is joined — David's followers are only a 
handful in comparison with those of Absalom. But what 
the pious king wants in numbers is supplied by the jus- 
tice of his cause. The sword of Absalom is unsheathed 
by desperate ambition — David's, in his own necessary 
and just defence. By faith he was confident of victory j 
by faitk^ when the host shouted for the battle, he con- 
jured the leaders of his army to spare his son. 

They who had at first followed Absalom in their sim- 
plicity cannot now persecute his father in malice. With 
what courage could any Israelite draw his sword against 
David 1 On the contrary, who could want zeal and 
alacrity to fight for a righteous king and father against 
the conspiracy of a wicked child 1 The God of armies, 
who at his pleasure can save with many or with few, 
takes part with justice, and lets Israel feel what it is 
to bear arms for an impious usurper. The sword devours 
them by thousands, and '^ the wood devours more than 
the sword." Let no man hope to prosper by rebellion ; 
the very trees, and thickets, and pits, and wild beasts 
of the woods shall conspire to the punishment of trai- 
tors. Among the rest, a fatal oak singles out the leader 
of this vile insurrection, and with one of its spreading 
arms snatches him away to speedy execution. The 
beauty of Absalom was every way ruinous. Those tres- 
ses, which once hung loosely dishevelled on his shoul- 
ders, now support the weight of his body, and make his 
pride his torment. Behold him suspended between hea- 
ven and earth, as one deservedly abandoned both by 
God and man ! As if the Divine justice had selected 



150 hall's scripture history. 

this punishment for treason, Absalom, Ahithophel, and 
Judas all die the same death. So shall they perish who 
lift up their hands against the Lord's anointed ! 

A soldier passes by and sees, but dares not strike the 
rebellious prince. His arm was restrained by the public 
charge of David, '^ Beware that none touch the young 
man Absalom." Joab, on the contrary, when he hears 
the tidings, hastens to the place, and without hesitation 
fixes his javelin in the offender's heart. His zeal accom- 
plishes what the soldier's obedience had forborne. He 
feared not to prefer the safety of his sovereign to his 
command — regarding the life of David and the peace of 
Israel more than the weak affection of a father. That 
zeal and that obedience w^ere both deserving of praise — 
the loyal subject equals the ardent patriot — the one re- 
vered his king, the other loved his master, and by that 
love disobeyed. All Israel did not afford Absalom so 
firm a friend as Joab had once proved himself. He 
taught the woman of Tekoa to intercede with David for 
his recall, after his three years' exile. He brought him 
up from Geshur to Jerusalem. He led him into the pre- 
sence, into the arms of his parent. Yet now he who was 
his solicitor for the king's favor, is his executioner 
against the king's charge. He now forgot that he 
had been the friend of one ^vho had forgotten that he 
was a son. 

The dart of Joab is seconded by the weapons of his 
followers. Absalom dies as it were by a variety of 
deaths. The hand of Divine retribution makes his crimes 
legible in his punishment. He had exalted himself against 
his lawful sovereign — he had pierced his father's heart 
\vith many sorrows — he had caused strife and division 
in Israel. If by the law of Moses, he who cursed the au- 
thors of his being was stoned to death, how justly is a 
heap of stones cast on him who sought to imbrue his 
impious hands in a parent's blood ! 



THE DEATH OF ABSALO.'\I. 151 

Now Joab sounds the retreat, and calls off his eager 
troops from execution. He knew what his rebellious 
countrymen had deserved; but when Absalom is no 
more, mercy shall arrest the sword of justice. The gen- 
erous heart can distinguish betwixt the leader of a fac- 
tion and the misguided multitude ; and Can pity those 
who are deceived, while it ordains vengeance to their 
deceiver. 

The proud and ambitious Absalom thought it would 
be injustice to mankind if he sufTered the memory of his 
grandeur to perish. His three sons died in early infancy. 
That he might supply the loss, he reared a stately pillar 
in the king's dale, and called it after his own name, to 
perpetuate the honor of Absalom. Behold this curious 
pile demolished, and a ruinous heap thrown over his 
lifeless body, the monument of his rebellion and of his 
shame ! Hear this, ye vain-glorious boasters, who leave 
li6 memorial behind you but of ill-deserved greatness : 
who teach death itself the language of adulation, and 
who enumerate the pompous titles which shall be re- 
corded on your tombs! The best of this affectation is 
vanity; the worst is infamy and dishonor. While the 
memory of the just is blessed ; and if his humility re- 
fuse an epitaph and retire to an unnoticed grave, God 
himself shall write his name upon the pillar of eternity. 

Absalom is dead — who shall report it to his father 1 
The busy Ahimaaz offers himself to be the messenger, 
and will not be dissuaded. Joab knew David too Avell 
to employ a friend on such an errand. An Ethiopian 
servant was fitter to bear this message than the son of 
the priest. Ahimaaz, though he anticipate the arrival 
of Cushi, tells only of the victory : artfully suppressing 
those less welcome tidings which should fill his mas- 
ter's heart with unutterable anguish. 

David inquires not, " How fares the host V but, '' How 
fares the young man Absalom 1" Like a wise and faith- 



152 HALLOS SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

ful messenger, Cushi, by an honest insinuation, reveals 
the fatal truth — '' The enemies of my lord, and those 
that seek his life be as that young man is !" 

How is the king thunderstruck with the word of his 
servant 1 How is he bereaved of all comfort, and regard- 
less of existence ? " O my son Absalom, my son, my son 
Absalom, would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, 
my son, my son !" What do we hear 1 that he whose life 
was esteemed by his people as of more value than ten 
thousand of theirs, should be exchanged for an incestu- 
ous traitor 1 that he should lay down his life for a par- 
ricide and a murderer 1 But what shall we say to thy 
love, O Savior 1 Thou hast said to thy rebellious chil- 
dren, " I am the good Shepherd — the good Shepherd 
giveth his life for the sheep — No man taketh it from 
me, but I lay it down of myself." O love infinite, in- 
comprehensible, whereat the angels of heaven are amaz- 
ed, whereat thy saints are filled with transports of grati- 
tude ! For scarcely for a righteous man will one die — 
yet peradventure for a good man some will even dare to 
die — but God commendeth his love to us, in that, while 
we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. He hath said, 
" Deliver them from going down to the pit — 1 have found 
a ransom." Blessed are the people, O Lord, that know 
the joyful sound — they shall hear, and delight in thy sal- 
vation for ever and ever. 



33.— S O L M N . 

At length the hour approaches which must put a pe- 
riod to the life and sorrows of David. And will not the 
towering ambition of Adonijah wait till the throne is 



SOLOMON. 153 

vacant, before he sets up his presumptuous claim 1 Too 
nearly resembling Absalom in pride and ostentation, he 
rushes eagerly into the crimes, into the misfortunes of 
his brother. He too '' prepares chariots and horsemen, 
and fifty men to run before him." Absalom and Adoni- 
jah were the darlings of their father, 1 Kings, 1:6; 
from their childhood they had known no rebuke, no 
contradiction. How rarely does this undue partiality 
terminate in joy ! Absalom sought the life of David — 
Adonijah now grasps at his crown. 

The government was as yet in the immediate appoint- 
ment of God. He had chosen David as the successor of 
Saul — he had fixed on Solomon to supply the place of 
David. From that time till the extinction of the royal 
authority in Judah, the sceptre passed in uninterrupted 
order from the father to his first-born son. 

Meanwhile Adonijah wants not friends to support his 
usurpation. Abiathar the priest, and Joab the captain of 
the host, the once faithful adherents to David, assist the 
aspiring prince with their presence and counsels. They 
had shared the fortunes of their sovereign in all his for- 
mer calamities — they now behold him on the bed of age 
and death, and they pay their homage to the rising sun. 
The permanency oi friendships as well as happiness^ can- 
not be ascertained by man till the last moments of his 
life. When we can no longer reward or punish, then 
will it appear who loved us for ourselves, and who asso- 
ciated with us for their own advantage. 

The designation of Solomon to the throne was made 
public by the voice of Heaven. God had sent him at 
his birth a message of honor and love — had promised 
him the privilege of building a temple to His glory, and 
the establishment of his throne for ever. In vain, there- 
fore, does Adonijah frame his conspiracy — in vain does 
he single out his brother as the object of indignity and 
neglect. In the decay of David's body his intellectual 

7* 



IS-i hall's scripture history. 

faculties were not impaired. " As the Lord liveth, who 
hath redeemed my soul from all adversity, Solomon my 
son shall sit on my throne this day." From the bed of 
sickness he steers the government of Israel with no un- 
steady hand. Instantly he gives full directions for the 
regal inauguration of Solomon. Zadok the priest, and 
Nathan the prophet, and Benaiah, a w^arrior of unshaken 
fidelity, are commanded to take with them the royal 
guard, to place Solomon on his father's mule, to carry 
him down in state to Gihon, to anoint him with the ho- 
ly oil of the tabernacle, to sound the trumpets and pro- 
claim him in the streets, to bring him back with triumph 
and magnificence to the court, and to set him on the roy- 
al throne with all the due ceremonies of coronation. 

How pleasing w^as this command to them, who in 
Solomon's glory saw their own security ! Benaiah ap- 
plauds it — and, not fearing a father's envy, in David's 
presence wishes that the throne of Solomon may be 
exalted above that of David. The people are ravished 
with joy at this hopeful succession, and rend the earth 
and fill the heaven with the noise of their music and 
shouting. '' God save the king — Long live the king — 
Let the king live for ever !" 

The feast of Adonijah, which began in presumption, 
terminates in horror. The ears of the guests are sud- 
denly pierced with the sound of those trumpets which 
at once proclaim the triumph of Solomon and their 
own confusion. Astonishment, and fearful expectation 
of vengeance fill their souls : and when the son of Abia- 
thar brings more certain intelligence of their disappoint- 
ment, every heart is cold — every face pale — terror gives 
wings to their feet. How suddenly is this daring troop 
dispersed ! Adonijah, their aspiring prince, flies to the 
horns of the altar — as distrusting all hopes of life, save 
those which he rested on the sanctity of the place and 
the mercy of his generous rival. 



SOLOMON. 155 

Now David beholds a worthy object of his love in 
peaceful possession of the throne of Israel — now does 
he charge him to keep the commandments of God, to 
take heed to the statutes, and walk in the ways of the 
Almighty. The dying prophet exhorts the youthful 
monarch to exemplary holiness — he admonishes him to 
pay due allegiance to the King of kings — he gives him 
the weighty charge of building the house of God — he 
lays before the eyes of his son the model and pattern 
of that sacred work, the merit of which belongs to 
David no less than Solomon. David bestows the gold 
and silver for this holy use — an hundred thousand tal- 
ents of gold — ten times'as much silver — brass and iron 
beyond all weight. David excites the princes oi Israel 
to give their assistance — takes notice of their bountiful 
offerings — numbers the Levites and sets them their re- 
spective tasks. Even the singers and musicians are 
appointed to their office by the sweet Psalmist of Israel. 
And when all things are in their desired order and due 
state of preparation, he blesses Solomon and his people, 
and sleeps with his fathers. O happy soul, how quiet 
possession hast thou taken, after so many tumults, of a 
better crown! Thou, who didst prepare all things for 
the house of thy God, how art thou welcomed to that 
glorious tabernacle, a house not made with hands, 
eternal in the heavens! 

Again is Solomon crowned the sovereign of Israel — 
now in his own right, as formerly in his father's, he sits 
upon the seat of David. He loves the Lord, and is loved 
by him. The wicked are taken away from before the 
king, and his throne is established in righteousness. 

As yet the high places, on which stood a variety of 
altars, were frequented both by the people and the king. 
Before he builds the temple at Jerusalem, Solomon goes 
up to Gibeon. There was the allowed altar of Jehovah ; 
there was the tabernacle, though the ark was in the city 



156 hall's scripture history. 



of David. The young monarch, desiring to begin his 
reign with God, offers on that altar no less than a thou- 
sand sacrifices. 

How sweet is the repose of true piety ! The night 
cannot but be happy if the day hath been holy. Solomon 
lays him down to sleeps and lo, he sees him who is in- 
visible, and hears the voice of a merciful God, "Ask 
me what I shall give thee." We cannot be so liberal to 
ourselves as by our oblations to the Author of all good. 
Though the cattle on a thousand hills are his own, he 
graciously accepts the freewill offering of his servant. 
And art thou less bounteous, God, to thy poorest 
worshipper under the Gospel, than thou wast to the 
prince of Israel 1 Thou hast said, " Whatsoever ye shall 
ask the Father in my name, [ will give unto you." Let 
thy merciful ears be ever open to the prayer of thy ser- 
vants; and that they may obtain their petitions, make 
them to ask such things as shall please thee ! 

There needs no time for deliberation — the waking 
thoughts of Solomon had been intent on wisdom. His 
heart was so filled with the love and admiration of that 
heavenly gift that it fastened at once on the grace it 
had longed for. " Give thy servant, an understanding 
heart to judge thy people." Had not Solomon been 
already distinguished for wisdom he would have been 
less sensible of its value — he would not thus have pre- 
ferred it in his desires — he would not have esteemed it 
the pearl of greatest value in his diadem. Solomon well 
knew that royalty without wisdom would be only pre- 
eminence of infamy — that life itself would be tedious 
and power unprofitable. 

The king of Israel awakes and finds that his dream 
was divine and oracular. Illumination is shed over his 
heart ; he feels that God hath given him a new soul. 
No wonder that on his return from the tabernacle to the 
ark he testifies his joy and thankfuhiess by burnt-offer- 



THE TEMPLE. 157 

ings, and peace-oflerings, and public feastings. The 
heart which is filled with a sense of the presence and 
favor of God, cannot refrain itself from the outward 
expression of gratitude. '' God is the Lord who hath 
showed us light — bind the sacrifice with cords, even 
unto the horns of the altar ! Thou art my God, and I 
will praise thee ; thou art my God, I will exalt thee." 



34.— THE TEMPLE. 

Four years are soon elapsed in preparations for the 
house of God. Solomon avails himself of the exquisite 
art of the Tyrians, of the zeal and ardor of his own 
people. Hiram procures him artificers in gold, in silk, 
in purple j thirty thousand Israelites in their courses 
hew down the stately cedars; while the humble Gibe- 
onites, the objects of Saul's furious and unhallowed 
zeal, (being in number an hundred and fifty thousand,) 
are employed in hewing stones and bearing burdens. 
None are so mean but they may be useful in their call- 
ings : even less honorable services are equally neces- 
sary. Let us but labor with honest alacrity, and God 
will accept our industry and count it for skill. 

The temple is framed in Lebanon and set up in Sion. 
Neither hammers nor axes are heard in this holy struc- 
ture. There was nothing but noise in Lebanon ; nothing 
in Sion but silence and peace. Vv'hatcver tumults are 
abroad, all should be quietness and sweet concord in 
the church. God, why do we sufier schism and fu- 
rious contention to be heard within thy sanctuary 1 
Lord, knit the hearts of thy servants together in the 
unity of the Spirit and the bond of peace ; that we may 



158 hall's scripture history. 

mind and speak the same things ; that thou, who art 
the God of peace, mayst take pleasure to dwell in our 



souls ! 

Now is the foundation laid, and the walls are rising of 
that glorious fabric which all nations have admired and 
all ages celebrated. Even those piles which were laid 
on the base of the building were not rugged and rude, 
but hewn and costly ; the part which lies covered with 
earth was no less carefully wrought than those which 
are more conspicuous. God hath delight in the hidden 
value of his spiritual temple. How many noble graces 
of his servants have been buried in obscurity — neglect- 
ed or forgotten by men, but held in their due estima- 
tion in the sight of God ! 

The matter of this splendid frame vies with its pro- 
portion. Nothing but white marble is seen without, 
nothing but gold and cedar within. Upon the hill of 
Sion stands that snowy fabric, w^hich both invites and 
dazzles the eye of the passenger afar off. God admits 
of nothing that is not pure and exquisite. His church 
consists of none but the faithful. He dwelleth only in 
the heart which is devoted' to his fear. 

Thef(ishio7i of the temple corresponded with that of 
the tabernacle in the wilderness — both were constructed 
under the same heavenly directions, the same mystery 
w^as shadowed out in both. But the one was framed in 
the state of Israel's wanderings, the other in the land 
of promise — the one was fitted for motion, the other for 
rest — the one denoted the good will of a multitude, the 
other the munificence of a king. 

But why do we fasten our eyes on wood, and stone, 
and metals 1 God has no pleasure in these for their own 
sake, but for their spiritual signification. Wherever He 
is, there is his temple. O God, thou vouchsafest to dwell 
in the humble and contrite heart — while we have our 
being in thee, thou hast thine abode in us. The heaven 



THE TEMPLE. 159 

of heavens is not able to contain thee, but thou dost 
not despise the hallowed mansion of a regenerate soul. 
In the heart of thy faithful servants, in the church of 
thy saints on earth, in the throne of thy celestial glory, 
thou art present, and abidest for ever. All these were 
typified by thy material temple — it had its porch, its 
sanctuary, its holy of holies. Yet what is the value of 
this assemblage of gold and marble in comparison with 
the living temple of the Holy Ghost, which is our body 1 
What is the temple of tliis body of ours to the temple 
of Christ's body, which is his church 1 And what is the 
temple of God's church on earth, to that which triumphs 
gloriously in heaven] 

Lo, in the outward porch, we see an image of the 
christian soul entering into the society of the church — 
in the holy place, the communion of the true visible 
church on earth selected from the world — ^in the holy 
of holies, whereintothe high-priest entered once a-year, 
the glorious heaven, into which our true high-priest, 
Christ Jesus, entered once for all, to make atonement 
betwixt God and man. 

In all these there is the most perfect correspondence, 
in proportion, in matter, in situation. 

How exquisite di symmetry hast thou ordained, O God, 
betwixt the faithful heart and thy church on earth, with 
that in heaven ! In the believing soul there is no im- 
measurable height of pride, nor breadth of passion, nor 
yet the absence of grace — in the militant church, a ne- 
cessary inequality without disproportion, its govern- 
ment, its extent, its jurisdiction in harmony with each 
other — in the church triumphant, eternity, perfection, 
and incomprehensible glory. 

With respect to the materials^ all were most excellent. 
The wood was precious, sweet, lasting — the stone, beau- 
tiful, costly, insensible of age — the gold pure and glit- 
tering. So perfect are the graces of the children of 



160 

God — so perfect are the ordinances of his church — so 
perfect is the felicity of Iiis glorified saints. 

In situation^ we find one court of the temple open 
even to the uncircumcised and unclean — another, re- 
served for the children of Israel — a third, inaccessible 
but to the tribe of Levi. There was the altar for sacri- 
fice — there was the sea of brass for purification. While 
in the covered rooms of the temple, one part was ap- 
propriated to the Levites — another yet more holy, to 
the priests — the holiest of all, to the chosen descendant 
and representative of Aaron. 

If from the walls we look to the furniture, still every 
thing is typical and figurative. What is the altar where- 
on our sacrifices of prayer and praise are offered to the 
Almighty, but a devout and contrite soul 1 What the 
golden candlesticks, but the understanding illuminated 
by grace, wherein the light of the knowledge of God 
and of his divine will shines for everl Naj--, if we pre- 
sume so far as to enter into the holy of holies, even 
there, God, do we find our unworthy hearts so ho- 
nored by thee, that they are made as the very ark where 
thy royal law and thine heavenly manna are preserved 
for ever : there do we behold that mercy- seat from 
whence, shaded by the wings of the glorious cherubim, 
thou givest the testimony of thy good Spirit witnessing 
with ours that we are the children of God. 

Behold, if Solomon built a temple unto thee, thou hast 
built a temple to thyself in us. We are not only by thy 
grace parts of thy spiritual building, but are ourselves 
living temples in thy Sion. O do thou ever dwell in this 
thine house, and there let us ever serve thee ! Where- 
fore hast thou a temple but that thou mayst be present 
with us, and that we may show forth thy praise 1 Once 
did thine ark reside \\\i\\ thy people in tents, ever 
changing and removing from place to place — then didst 
thou sojourn in Shiloh — afterwards thou didst conde- 



THE TEMrLE. 161 

scend to take up thine abode amongst men, and to dwell 
in thine own house at thy Jerusalem. So didst thou at the 
beginning hold converse with the patriarchs — so didst 
ihoii sojourn with Israel under the law — but now under 
the Gospel dispensation thou dost make a constant re- 
sidence in the hearts of thy grateful children. From 
thence thou wilt depart no more — they shall be sepa- 
rated from the world — they shall be separated from 
themselves — but who shall separate them from the love 
and from the presence of Christ 1 

Great was the glory of the first temple — greater still 
that of the second. Though unequal to the former in 
outward circumstances of splendor, the bringing in of a 
better hope caused the ministration of righteousness to 
exceed in glory. " Yet once — it is a little while — and I 
will shake all nations — and the desire of all nations shall 
come — and in this place will I give peace — and I will 
fill this house with glory," saith the Lord of hosts. 

Wheresoever thou art, O God, thou art worthy of 
adoration. Since thou wilt not disdain to dwell in 
us, be thou ever worshipped in us. From the altars of 
our hearts let the incense of holy meditation, of fer- 
vent prayer, of cheerful thanksgiving ascend, and find 
acceptance. Let the pure lights of faith and godly 
conversation shine before thee and before men, and 
never be extinguished. Let our souls be refreshed and 
strengthened by the bread of life — let us treasure up 
thy sacred laws, and the unfading promises of thy 
Gospel. Speak thou comfortably to us from thy mercy- 
seat, thou that art the propitiation for our sins. Suffer 
nothing to enter in that is unclean. Sanctify us to thy- 
self, and be thou ever sanctified in us! 



162 hall's scripture history. 

35.— THE QUEEN OF SHEBA. 

The great lights of heaven are not intended for ob- 
scurity. The fame of Solomon's wisdom is diffused 
throughout the world — all nations are fall of admiration 
and praise. Even so, O thou everlasting King of peace, 
thy name is great among the heathen, thy sound is gone 
out into all the earth, and thy words unto the ends of 
the world. Thou art a light to lighten the Gentiles, as 
well as the glory of thy people Israel. 

No doubt, many from all coasts came to behold this 
prodigy of wisdom. Among the rest a sovereign prin- 
cess, herself distinguished by a variety of endowments, 
travels from the far-distant seat of her dominion to Jeru- 
salem, that she may hear, and learn, and wonder. Many 
are known to cross the seas from motives of curiosity — 
some few philosophers have travelled far in pursuit 
of science — merchants repair to foreign climates for 
wealth — and princes send their ambassadors to other 
regions on their affairs of state — but that a rich and 
great queen should travel from the remote Sheba to 
hear the wisdom of Solomon, and be instructed in the 
doctrines of his religion, is an occurrence unexampled 
in the history of mankind. Why should we then think 
any labor too great, any difficulties too formidable to 
hear one greater than Solomon 1 How justly shall the 
queen of the south rise up in judgment with this ge- 
neration, and condemn us, who, when Wisdom crieth in 
the streets, do not, will not regard the heavenly voice 1 

Dissatisfied with the learning, and probably disgusted 
with the worship of her own country, she betakes her- 
self to the oracles of God. It is good that in matters 
of such consequence we should examine for ourselves j 
and happy are we when we obtain the satisfaction we 
desire. The mind which takes all upon trust, will be 



THE QUEEN OF SHEBA. 163 

destitute of knowledge — the mind which is always per- 
plexed with doubts, will know nothing as it ought. A 
proper spirit of inquiry animates us in the pursuit of 
truth — conviction establishes us in the truth, when we 
have found it. It were misery and disquiet to doubt, 
did we not look forward to that period when all doubt 
shall be removed. Thoughts of this nature must not 
dwell too long upon the soul. They may be useful as 
passengers — they are dangerous as inmates. Happy 
are we if we can find a Solomon to remove them. Now 
we know in part ; but a time shall come, when that 
which is in part shall be done away, and all shall be per- 
fection of knowledge and of glor^". 

Fame, in its variety of rumors, too frequently ex- 
aggerates. The wise princess will not trust to this 
precarious informer, whose narratives are often either 
doubtful or fabulous, and (like winds or streams) in- 
crease in their progress. If great things had not been 
spoken of Solomon, report had wronged him — if the 
facts were but justly related, they still must fill the 
minds of the hearers with astonishment. The queen of 
Sheba comes in person to examine into the truth of 
these wonders. She knew that wisdom was more pre- 
cious than rubies — that its merchandise was better than 
the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than 
fme gold. Alas, how dangerous is it, in the most impor- 
tant of all concerns, to trust implicitly to the opinions 
of others ! Those rational faculties are misapplied, 
which are not devoted by their possessors to the in- 
terests of religion and the benefit of their own souls. 

Should we come to a rich treasure, we should need 
no injunction to avail ourselves as much as possible of 
the benefit. The royal proselyte, who had been deterred 
by no difficulties in the pursuit of knowledge, when at 
last she is arrived at Jerusalem, will not forego her own 
advantage. She states all her doubts to this great mas 



164 

ter of wisdom, and receives instruction while he re- 
solves them. O let us not neglect the opportunities 
afTorded us of furnishing our souls with profitable, with 
saving knowledge ! Of what use is it, that he who 
taught Solomon condescends to be our teacher, if, sit- 
ino- at the feet of Christ, we leave our hearts either in 
ignorance or perplexity 1 

The queen of Sheba came with a magnificent train, 
with camels laden with gold, and jewels, and rich odors. 
Though she sought the presence of a rich and mighty 
king, she will not be sparing of her oblations. She 
came in search of an invaluable treasure, and she will 
not withhold the just tokens of her gratitude. 

Expectation is no better than a kind enemy to merit; 
if we look beyond an object, it escapes our accurate view. 
Many would have been admired, if they had not been 
too loudly proclaimed by the voice of fame ; many, up- 
on inquiry, fall as much below their real standard of ex- 
cellence as our imaginations had raised them above it. 
This disadvantage had Solomon with his royal guest. 
Rumor bade her look for incredible excellence j yet so 
wonderful were the perfections of Solomon, that they 
overcame the highest expectation and the most liberal 
belief. When she beheld his royal buildings, the mag- 
nificence of his kingdom, the solemnities of his religion, 
his stately ascent into the house of the Lord, she con- 
fessed her own incredulity, and the inadequacy of those 
very reports which she had condemned as fabulous. "I 
believed not the words, till I came, and mine eyes had 
seen it; and lo, the half was not told me." How should 
our souls be filled with wonder at thee, thou Son of 
David, who didst not receive the Spirit by measure 1 
who hast framed this glorious temple of the universe, 
and the still greater splendors of thy celestial palace 1 
whose infinite providence ordereth all things in heaven 
and earth 1 who, when thou didst ascend upon high, 



THE QUEEN OF SHEBA. 165 

didst lead captivity captive, and gavest such gifts un^ 
to men 1 

The wise princess can now form a just estimate of 
the mercy of God in bestowing such a monarch on his 
favored people. She pronounces them blessed on whom 
that lio-ht shineth which was sent from heaven to benefit 

o 

mankind. '' Happy are thy servants who stand continu- 
ally before thee and hear thy wisdom." She held this 
privilege more valuable than any gift which the world 
had to offer ; more precious than earthly thrones and 
sceptres. How should we, who hear the words of God 
and live under the sound, of the glorious Gospel, how 
should we look on ourselves as the happiest of mankind ! 
How should every worldly advantage and delight be es- 
teemed as less than nothing in comparison with distinc- 
tions like these ! 

The experience of the queen had taught her how hap- 
py is that people whose rulers delight in wisdom. She 
magnifies the God of Israel — she blesses Solomon — she 
congratulates his subjects. ''Blessed be the Lord thy 
God, which delighteth in thee, to set thee on the throne 
of Israel. Because the Lord loved Israel for ever, there- 
fore made he thee king, to do judgment and justice." 
The glory of Solomon was equalled by the happiness 
of Israel. There is no earthly proof of God's love to 
any nation comparable to that of his delegating his au- 
thority to wise and pious rulers. They are the minis- 
ters of God to us for good; in their time shall the righ- 
teous flourish. But, God, how hast thou loved thy 
chosen Israel, the church, in setting over us that righ- 
teous Branch of Jesse, whose name is Wonderful, Coun- 
sellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince 
of Peace! in his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel 
shall dwell safely, and this is his name whereby he shall 
be called, Me Lord our Righteousness. Sing, O heaven, 
and rejoice, O earth, break forth into singing, moun- 



166 hall's scripture history. 

tains, for the Lord hath comforted his people, and will 
have everlasting mercy upon his heritage ! 

Rich and magnificent as Solomon was before, the 
queen of Sheba adds yet to his wealth. An hundred 
and twenty talents of pure gold, with precious jewels 
and costly odors, are sent by her to the royal treasury. 
Was not this a type of that homage which thou shouldst 
receive, blessed Jesus, from the Gentile world ] '' The 
kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall bring presents; 
the kings of Sheba and Seba shall offer gifts ; yea, all 
kin^s shall fall down before him — all nations shall serve 

o 

him." 

Solomon requites these presents with the munificence 
of a patron, with the generosity of a prince. We can- 
not but be gainers by whatever we present unto thee, 
God of wisdom and peace. Teach us to leave the re- 
mote regions of our infidelity and worldly thoughts, that 
we may learn of thee, who givest to all men liberally, 
and upbraidest not ! Then shall our hearts, our sincere 
(though imperfect) services find acceptance in thy sight ; 
then shall we receive from thy gracious hand present 
comfort and eternal glory. 



36. — JEROBOAM. 

The successor of David now sleeps in the tomb ; his 
wisdom, his infirmities, his sin and his repentance no 
longer awaken the sorrow or the admiration of mankind. 
Rehoboam, his son, fears no rival; he goes up to She- 
chem to take undisturbed possession of the vacant 
throne. Thither assembled the tribes of Israel, and at 
their head the proud and factious Jeroboam. 



JEROBOAM. 167 

" Thy father made our yoke grievous — make thou it 
lighter, and we will serve thee." How much danger 
lurked under this specious request! Is it the promise 
of allegiance, or the threat of sedition 1 Is it the voice 
of humility or of treason] How artfully does the par- 
ricide hold the olive-branch over his sword ! If Reho- 
boam refuses to gratify the people he endangers his 
kingdom. If he yields, he throws disgrace on the me- 
mory of his father. 

The suggestion itself was false^ as well as undutiful. 
The warlike reigns of Saul and David had given un- 
avoidable cause for complaint. All was calm when So- 
lomon held the sceptre; the tributes o^ foreign nations 
enriched his treasury — his temples and palaces were 
reared hy foreign labor: while the tasks of Israel were 
easy — as free from servility, as from pain. In his reign 
Judah and Israel were many as the sand on the sea- 
shore, rejoicing each man under his vine and under his 
fig-tree. In his reign, silver was in Jerusalem as stones, 
and cedars as sycamore trees in the vale for abundance. 
Did this universal plenty and prosperity indicate oppres- 
sive exactions! But base and grovelling souls delight 
in casting censures on departed worth. The benefits of 
Solomon's reign are passed over in silence — imaginary 
grievances are descanted on with clamor. Who shall 
hope that his merit or his greatness shall altogether 
exempt him from obloquy, when the name of Solomon 
is thus traduced in the very presence of his son! 

The ancient counsellors of the deceased monarch had 
learned of their master, that " a soft answer turneth 
away wrath." Wisely, therefore, do they entreat Reho- 
boam to speak good words unto the people, and attach 
them to him for ever. It is no hard condition, by meek- 
ness and condescension to bind the hearts and secure 
the allegiance of a mighty nation. Had this sage ad- 
vice been adopted, the son of Nebat might have fled 



168 hall's scripture history. 

again into Egypt — rebellion would have found an un- 
fruitful soil in Israel. 

Age brings with it experience, and ripens wisdom — 
youth is too often rash, headstrong, seduced by passion, 
the foe to reason. Many a kingdom, many a life, many 
a soul has been lost by evil counsellors: such were 
those whom Rehoboam preferred to the grey-headed 
servants of his father. He now hears how unfit it is for 
majesty to submit to any terms and stipulations — how 
requisite it is to deal harshly with this presumption, and 
to crush the yet unformed mischief ere it break out 
into rebellion. They bid him speak the language of 
haughty and indignant pride. He glories in the falsely- 
alleged tyranny of Solomon. "My father made your 
joke heavy, I will add to your yoke ; my father chas- 
tised you with whips, I will chastise you with scor- 
pions." 

senseless people and infatuated prince ! Had they 
complained that in the latter days of Solomon religion 
had been corrupted, had they besought their new king 
to begin his reign with God, to demolish the idols, to 
purify the temple, to restore devotion to its original 
simplicity, such requests as these would have done 
honor to their national character — now they seek for 
nothing but the gratification of themselves; and their 
king, regardless of their reformation, has nothing in 
view but imperious sovereignty. Let him but accom- 
plish this point, his people may be profligate or mise- 
rable, it is a matter of indiflerence to himself! 

Now that flame bursts out at once, which was never 
more to be extinguished. The furious multitude, grown 
desperate by these denunciations of rigor, exclaim with 
one voice, '^ What portion have we in David ] To your 
tents, O Israel !" 

The son of Nebat has now the crown he was so soli- 
citous to obtain. The tribes of Judah and Benjamin 



JEROBOAM. 169 

alone adhere to the descendant of David. The example 
of a genera] rebellion will not make them unfaithful to 
their misguided sovereign — their swords are ready to 
be drawn in his defence — they breathe nothing but 
vengeance and war — when suddenly a message from 
God forbids the battle, and dismisses these mighty ar- 
mies. There was yet some virtue in Rehoboam, in that 
he submitted to the will of Heaven, and held his peace, 
because the Lord had done it. With a hundred and 
fourscore thousand adherents he dares not strive against 
his Maker — at once he lays down his arms, and after 
such a prohibition, will not seek even the recovery of 
his kingdom by bloodsh&d. 

Meanwhile his successful rival foments a spiriiual 
as well as a civil defection. He well knew the affinity 
between treason and idolatry — he knew that they who 
feared God would not fail to honor the king. Thus, 
therefore, he reasons in his heart, " It is true, that the 
ten tribes have placed the sceptre in my hands — this 
sudden advancement may as suddenly decline — their 
return to their loyalty will at once deprive me of my 
life and kingdom. If they go up to worship at Jerusa- 
lem, they will behold the glorious temple, they will see 
the magnificent palace of Solomon, and remember their 
first allegiance. There the solicitations of their breth- 
ren, the admonitions of the priests, the feelings of their 
own hearts will bid them throw themselves on the mer- 
cy of their lawful prince. I must therefore divert them 
from Jerusalem, or my glory is baseless and unreal. 
Without having recourse to direct prohibition, which 
will but inflame their desires, I will propose to them a 
more compendious, more plausible worship. They shall 
have gods, and altars, and priests, and sacrifices of 
their own." 

How easily is the variable populace seduced by every 
blast of vain doctrine, through the slight of men and 

Script. Hi?t 8 



170 hall's scrarxuRE niSTORi'. 

cunning crafiiuess wliereby they lie in wait to deceive! 
No sooner are the idols of Jeroboam set np, than all 
Israel falls prostrate in humble adoration — the new 
king stands before his new altar, and the censer is in 
his impious hand. 

At this moment a man of God comes from Judah to 
denounce the indignation of Heaven. When the king 
of Israel is in the height of his state and superstition, 
the courageous prophet fears not to interrupt the ser- 
vice with solemn exclamations of judgment. The mes- 
senger of Jehovah fears neither the power nor malice 
of the tyrant, whom he dared to reprove so sharply in 
the midst of his pompous magnificence. He foretells 
the name of that descendant of David who should over- 
throw these altars, annul these ceremonies, and (re- 
covering his own rights and those of his God) should 
overw'aelm the rivals of both w-ith demolition and ruin. 

And, lest the remote event of the prediction should 
lessen its credibility, a present demonstration evidences 
its future accomplishment. The altar even now^ is rent 
in pieces — the ashes on it even now are scattered. With 
Avhat amazement must the seduced Israelites behold 
this miracle ! How must they tremble at their apostacy, 
when they see the power of the God whom they had 
forsaken 1 when they see him rending the altars of idol- 
atry, and breaking them to pieces at the voice of his 
prophet 1 Thus some of the beholders might possibly be 
aflected : but Jeroboam, impatient of reproof, rebellious 
ao-ainst God and man, instead of bowinar the knee in hu- 
miliation, stretches out his hand for revenge — " Lay 
hold on him." 

How easily can the Almighty prove to the profane 
and tyrannous that wherein they deal proudly he is 
above them ! The hand stretched out in rage suddenly 
dries up and remains senseless and immoveable. There 
stands the king of Israel, like some ancient statue, to 



JEROBOAM. 171 

wliich the skill of the artist has given looks and ges- 
tures of indignation, while itself is only lifeless marble. 
Now are his threats converted into humble entreaties — 
the prophet, so late the object of his wrath, must now 
intercede with God for his restoration. He might justly 
have been answered, " Thine intentions to me were 
cruel — had thine hand prevailed / should have sued to 
ihee in vain. Continue a fearful spectacle of the ven- 
geance of thy Maker!" But the servant of God must 
not strive — he must requite barbarity itself with meek- 
ness. The prophet makes intercession for Jeroboam — 
he is heard and answered with success. 

And vj'iW not even this prevail on an obdurate heart 1 
Will not the king of Israel now renounce his idolatry X 
Will not he say, '^ Lord, thou hast stricken me injus- 
tice — thou hast healed me in mercy — I will provoke 
thee no more — this hand which thou hast restored me 
shall be consecrated to thee, in pulling down these bold 
abominations V Alas, he persists in his impieties, and 
as if he had neither experienced the goodness nor se- 
verity of God, lives and dicr an idolater; 

The wretched heir to his crimes, as well as his throne, 
falls by assassination — his family is exterminated — his 
name remembered with horror, and handed down \\\i\i 
infamy to succeeding generations. " Knowest thou not 
this of old, since man v/as placed upon the earth, that 
the triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of 
the hypocrite for a moment \ I went by, and lo, he was 
gone — I sought him, but his place could no where be 
found !" 



172 IIALl\s SCniPTURE HISTORY 



37.— ELIJAH AT SAREPTA. 

The providence of God seems to have reserved his 
most illustrious prophet for an age of extreme depravity. 
The Searcher of hearts adapts his servants to the work 
which he commissions them to perform, and raises him- 
self up such witnesses as are best able to evince their 
heavenly mission. Moses, gentle in spirit, mighty in 
wonders, was fitted for the various events which befell 
him in his intercourse both with Pharaoh and with the 
afflicted, and at the same time rebellious Israelites. The 
grave and holy Samuel flourished when the people of 
God were quietly seated in the land of promise — while 
the ardent zeal of Elijah was such as best became that 
desperate state of declension into which '^back-sliding 
Israel" had fallen, when the crimes of Jeroboam were 
buried in those of Ahab. 

"As the Lord God of hosts liveth, before whom I 
stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but 
according to my word." After many solicitations and 
v/arnings, Israel is sentenced by the tongue that had so 
often interceded with God in its behalf. The courage 
of Elijah is equal to his power. He dares proclaim to 
the face of Ahab those judgments to which the wicked- 
ness of both king and people had exposed them. No 
earthly power could be formidable to one who had such 
an interest in heaven that lie could cither shut it up or 
open it at pleasure. Those prayers which could restrain 
the clouds, could far more easily avert the sword of 
persecution. 

The drought which had been denounced by Elijah 
occasions an immediate famine. From the consequences 
of this visitation the prophet himself is not exempted. 
The children of light are often suffered to participate 
in the temporal calamities of offenders. The brook of 



ELIJAH AT SAREPTA. 173 

Cheritli shall for a while relieve the thirst of the nian 
of God — and he, whose worth entitled him to a wel- 
come even in the courts of kings, is fed by miracle in 
his retirement. 

At length the brook is dried up, and the prophet is 
commanded to seek elsewhere for support. ■' Many wi- 
dows were in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the 
heaven was shut up three years and six months — but 
unto none of them was Elijah sent — he repaired to Sa- 
repta, a city of Zidon, unto a woman that was a widow." 

The prophet follows the directions of his God — the 
widow of Sarepta, under the same guidance, goes forth 
as it were to meet him. Emboldened by the charge he 
had received, Elijah no sooner beholds her than he re- 
quests some sustenance for exhausted nature. ^* Fetch 
me a little water in a vessel that I may drink — bring 
me, I pray thee, a morsel of bread in thine hand." 

Even in a city of Zidon, the habit and demeanor of 
Elijah proclaim him to be a prophet of Jehovah. When 
every morsel was precious, he scruples not, in virtue of 
his character, to solicit immediate relief. The claim 
seems at once to be acknowledged — but the person 
whom he addresses is compelled to an unwilling refusal. 

'^ As the Lord thy God liveth, I have nothing, save a 
handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse ; 
and, behold, I am gathering a few sticks, that I may go 
in and dress it for my son, that we may eat it and die." 
It was time for the prophet to bring comfort to these 
mourners. The miserable parent was now preparing 
her last meal — after one wretched repast, she looked 
forward to a twofold death, in her own person, and that 
of her child. It is the glory of God to assist us when w^e 
seem to be utterly forsaken — our deliverance is then 
most w^elcome, as being least expected. 

But what a trial is this of the faith of a weak prose- 
lyte ] Fear not, do as thou hast said — but bring me there- 



174 hall's scripture history. 

of first, and afterwards make for thee and thy son. For 
thus saith the God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not 
wasle, nor the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the 
Lord send rain upon the earth.'''' She must part with her 
present food, in expectation of future, which was to be 
provided her by miracle — she must feed a stranger ere 
she attended to herself and her son — she must shorten 
her life, in hopes of its continuance. "Bold Israelite," 
might she have said, " wast thou even a friend, or brother, 
would such a request beseem thee 1 Had I superfluity 
of provision thou mightest have shared it with me — now, 
that I have only one morsel for my child, what can in- 
duce me to listen to an unknown traveller 1 Thou say- 
est the meal shall not waste, nor the cruse of oil fail. 
At this moment let thy word come to pass. When thou 
hast exhausted the remainder of my store, in vain shall 
I challenge the performance of thy promise. If thou canst 
thus multiply food, why art thou in want of sustenance V* 
But the pious widow was taught by God not to dis- 
trust his prophet. Without one murmur or complaint 
she obeys his commands, and hopes for the accomplish- 
ment of his prediction. '^ He that saveth his life shall 
lose it ; and he that loseth his life for my sake, the same 
shall save it." Surely her faith ^vas no less efficacious 
than the prayers of Elijah. The mercy of God crowns 
her liberality with an abundant reward. Who shall fear 
to extend relief to the necessitous, when the Father of 
heaven has declared that he will hold in everlasting re- 
membrance the Christian's work, and labor that pro- 
ceedeth of love 1 

The barrel of meal wastes not, the cruse of oil doth 
not fail. With what thankful devotion must she havo 
partaken of that food w^hich the providence of God be- 
stowed in so supernatural a manner ! How welcome a 
guest was Elijah, who was thus the minister of God to 
her for good ! No longer apprehensive of famine, she 



ELIJAH AT SAEEPTA. 175 

now looks on her son with all those exquisite feelings 
of hope, and love, and rapture which none but parents 
can conceive — which not even parents can express ! 

Alas, at what moment can we pronounce ourselves se- 
cure from evil 1 The youth who had been thus rescued 
from famine is suddenly attacked by sickness. While 
her roof is yet honored with the presence of Elijah she 
beholds the beloved of her heart torn by the irresisti- 
ble arm of death from her embraces. 

How ready are we to mistake the grounds of our afflic- 
tion, and attribute them to imnginary causes! The pas- 
sionate mother imputes ihe death of her son to the pre- 
sence of Elijah. In distraction of her grief she spares 
not her best benefactor. '^ What have I to do with thee, 
O thou man of God ] Art thou come hither to call my 
sins to remembrance, and to slay my sonl" 

The prophet, instead of chiding the afflicted parent, 
humbly expostulates with his God. Though he was 
fervent in spirit, his pity extinguishes all anger at this 
unjust accusation — it rather serves to increase the ar- 
dor of his application to the Almighty. His only reme- 
dy is prayer. That which shut heaven from rain, seeks 
to open it for life. He pleads his interest with God — the 
distress of the sufferer — her insupportable calamity in 
being deprived of her last remaining comfort — and he 
presumes to urge the consequences which would befall 
himself. " See what a return Elijah has made for hos- 
pitality — surely he must be devoid either of power or 
of gratitude !" 

Having thus made intercession with his God, the pro- 
phet, in an ecstasy of spirit, approaches the lifeless re- 
mains. Thrice does he stretch himself upon the body, 
as if he would transmit into the child a portion of his 
own existence — thrice does he call on the Almighty to 
restore the departed soul. The effectual fervent prayer 
of the righteous, in al! cases of difficulty and danger. 



176 

has recourse to the Divine omnipotence. What can 
Elijah ask that God shall deny 1 The Lord heard the 
voice of his servant — the soul of the child came into 
him again, and he revived. 

Call upon me in the time of trouble — so will I hear 
thee, and thou shalt praise me. With what delight does 
the man of God take the living child in his arms and 
present him to his mother, a glorious proof of the power, 
the mercy, and the peculiar favor of heaven ! 

Now, when the astonished parent grasps the warm 
hand of her son ; sees his eyes once more fixed on hers ; 
beholds life, health and activity in every action, in every 
gesture; now she exclaims, ''By this I know that thou 
art a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in thy 
mouth is truth." Alas, had she not before sufficient evi- 
dence of Elijah's Divine commission! Was not the bar- 
rel of meal, was not the cruse of oil demonstration'? 
The most enlightened soul may sometimes stand in 
need of fresh supplies of heavenly assistance. Blessed 
be the mercy of that God who provides help for our in- 
firmities, and condescends (as it were on our own terms) 
to increase our faith and work out our salvation. 



38.— ELIJAH ON CARMEL. 

For more than three years was the land of Israel af- 
flicted by drought and famine. Elijah, to whom the peo- 
ple ascribe their misery, is all this time the object of 
their hatred and execrations. They abhor, not those 
sins which had deserved God's vengeance, but the righ- 
teous prophet by whose ministry it was injlicied. At 
length the voice of heaven calls the holy man from Sa- 



ELIJAH ON CARMEL. 177 

repta, and sends him on his perilous embassy : '' Go^ 
show thyself to Ahab, and I will send rain upon the 
earth." The king and people of Israel shall witness that 
God performeth the word of his servants and proves his 
own veracity in theirs. 

The governor of Ahab's house is faithful to Jehovah, 
while his master is the slave of Baal : he had hazarded 
his own life to preserve those prophets whom Jezebel 
sought to destroy. To him, therefore, while he is sent 
in search of pasture and springs of water, Elijah fears 
not to present himself, demanding an interview with 
his master. 

Obadiah, who had prostrated himself to the earth on 
sight of the prophet, receives the message with terror ', 
he sees nothing but danger and death either to himself 
or to Elijah; to himself, if the object of Ahab's fury 
be rescued j to Elijah, if he encounter the tyrant's 
indignation. 

But when the holy man confirms his purpose with an 
oath, and declares that he will surely behold the face of 
Ahab, Obadiah delays no longer. No doubt the king 
was astonished to hear that Elijah was coming to meet 
him. He feared, though he hated the prophet. He was 
aware that the man whom he had so long and so fruit- 
lessly sought to destroy, would not seek his presence 
but under a sure guard and with some high commis- 
sion. He knew that Elijah was invested with no com- 
mon powers from above — that the mantle of the pro- 
phet was more honored than his own royal purple. The 
withered arm of Jeroboam is now in the eye of his 
fancy. He dares not lift up his hand against the mes- 
senger of Jehovah. 

But while he refrains from actual violence he for- 
bears not to inveigh against Elijah as the occasion of 
this general misery : '' Art thou he that troubleth Is- 
rael 1" The prophet had reproved an adulterous genera- 

8* 



178 

tion ; he had denounced the judgments of God on their 
disobedience ; but the true cause of their suffering was 
their sin. Foolish men are plagued for their offence^ and 
because of their wickedness. Most justly therefore does 
Elijah, in all the boldness of conscious innocence, repel 
and retort the charge : '^ I have not troubled Israel, but 
thou and thy father's house, in that ye have forsaken 
the commandments of the Lord." Standing alone amidst 
the train of Ahab, he shows him that no earthly glory 
can appal that man who is blessed with revelations from 
God. He commands him, as one having authority, to 
gather together his idolatrous prophets to the top of 
Carmel — he bids him convene an assembly of the people. 
He speaks as if he were about to perform some amazing 
miracle in the sight of all Israel. The heart of the tyrant 
is overawed by superior virtue — he trembles and obeys. 

The tribes are met together. Elijah reproves them, 
not merely for their idolatry, but for their inconstancy 
and irresolution. ''How long halt ye between two opi- 
nions'? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, 
then follow him !" Indifference and neutrality in reli- 
gious matters is of itself a grievous crime; it is in fact 
the worst of all hostility against God. 

AVhether from guilt, or fear, or uncertainty, Israel is 
silent — and Elijah addresses them once more. '' I only 
am a prophet of the Lord, while Baal's prophets are four 
hundred and fifty men. Let us each prepare a sacrifice — • 
ikeir devotion shall be combined, mine single — the God 
that answereth by fire, let him be God." The proposi- 
tion is fair, and open, and incapable of evasion. Israel 
cannot but approve it. The prophets of Baal dare not 
signify disapprobation. The God who commanded this 
trial prepared confusion for the authors of idolatry and 
triumph for his heavenly truth. 

The prophets of Baal embrace the condition in all the 
terror of guiltiness. They prepare the sacrifice ; they 



ELIJAH ON CARMEL. 179 

lay the victim on the wood ; they cry unto their idol 
from morning until noon, "0 Baal, hear us!" They 
rend the skies with clamor ; they leap upon the altar, 
Qs if they would ascend to meet those fires which de- 
layed to come down ; mount Carmel echoes with their 
shrieks, but the heaven is silent. Elijah himself forgets 
his austerity, and derides their mockery of devotion. 
" Cry aloud, for he is a god; either he is talking, or he 
is pursuing, or he is on a journey, or peradventure he 
sleepeth, and must be awakened." 

The idolaters renew their horrid cries; they seize in 
frantic rage on the instruments of sacrifice, and shed 
their own blood upon their altar. How cruel, how ty- 
rannous is superstition ! The true God abhors those 
self-inflicted tortures. He wills us rather to mortify our 
corruptions^ to subdue our irregular desires, to worship 
him in spirit and in truth, to present our bodies a living 
sacrifice, holy, acceptable to himself, which is our rea- 
sonable service. 

How gladly would the apostate spirit, who once fell 
like lightning from heaven, have now come down in 
that form on the altar of his votaries! But God forbids 
it. All the powers of hell are unable to convey one spark 
of fire into the air. The evening draws on — the hope of 
idolatry is turned into confusion. The prophets of Baal, 
dismayed at the ill success of their shrieks, and wounds, 
and frantic gesticulations, maintain the contest no lon- 
ger — they sit down, overwhelmed with shame, and wea- 
riness, and anguish — tormenting themselves with their 
own despair, and dreading the success of their adversary. 

Now does the prophet of Jehovah call the people to 
witness his sincere proceedings. He avails himself of 
the opportunity of time and place — at the hour of even- 
ing-sacrifice he repairs the altar of God which the de- 
generacy of Israel had suffered to fall into ruin. holy 
man, what means this labor 1 What need is there of 



180 hall's scripture historv. 

these unseasonable reparations 1 Was there not an aitar, 
was there not a sacrifice now ready 1 Did not the vic- 
tim which the worshippers of Baal had prepared await 
the descent of that fire which thy prayers should bring 
down from heaven] It was thy just detestation of idol- 
atry which made thee refuse to avail thyself of their 
profanations. The altar, which in better times had been 
consecrated to thy God, is more dear to thee in its ruins 
than all the pride and magnificence of pagan worship! 

Elijah lays twelve stones on this hallowed pile, ac- 
cording to the number of the tribes of Israel. Ten of 
these were perverted to Baal. He regards not their 
present apostacy — he has respect unto the ancient cove- 
nant made with the holy patriarchs — he would, if pos- 
sible, bring them back to their primitive simplicity of 
Avorship. He well knew that the past unworthiness of 
Israel would not blot them out from the book of remem- 
brance, if they returned from their delusions to the 
ways of truth. 

While thus he reminds his people of their degeneracy, 
he bids them prepare a trench round his altar. He com- 
mands them to fill the trench with water ; to pour it on 
the sacrifice and on the wood. Ahab and all Israel are 
full of anxious expectation, and wait the event in so- 
lemn silence. And now, when God's appointed hour of 
the evening sacrifice was come, Elijah reverently ap- 
proaches his altar, and, looking up to heaven, thus ad- 
dresses the Almighty : '' Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob, let it be known this day that thou art God in 
Israel, and that I am thy servant, and that I have done 
all these things by thy word. Hear me, Lord, hear 
me ; that this people may know that thou art the Lord 
God, and that thou hast turned their hearts back again." 

The invocations of the idolaters were tedious; those 
of Elijah were short, but effectual. He committed to 
God the charge of his Divine truth, his covenant, his 



NABOTII. ISl 

glory. Behold, the prayer of faith pierces the heavens, 
and irresistibly ascends to the throne of grace. Israel 
shall see that the God whom they had forsaken doth 
not slumber nor sleep. In an instant the fire descends 
from heaven — consumes the sacrifice, the wood, the 
stones, the dust, and licks up the water that was in the 
trench. With what terror must an idolatrous king and 
people have beheld this amazing spectacle! How must 
they have trembled lest those devouring flames should 
light on their guilty heads as well as on the sacrifice of 
Elijah ! However they might reject the mercy of their 
Creator, they could not but confess and adore his power. 
When all the people saw it, they fell on their faces 
and said, ^' The Lord, he is the God— the Lord, he is 
the God." 



39.— NABOTH. 

The vineyard of Naboth was near adjoining to the 
palace of Jezebel — happier would he have lived, if it 
had been situated in the wilderness. How often is wealth 
a snare both to the soul and to the life ! The posses- 
sions of this Jezreelite are a perpetual cause of jealousy 
and envy to Ahab and to the inhuman partner of his 
throne. The vicinity of Naboth's vineyard makes it an 
object on which an evil eye fails not to rest, and awak- 
ens those covetous desires which can neither admit of 
satisfaction nor brook control. 

Twice had the king of Israel been victorious over the 
Syrians — he returns home, to be oppressed and van- 
quished by the wayward desire of his neighbor's inhe- 
ritance. In vain shall Ahab boast of subduing a foreijrn 



182 

enemj', while a domestic foe remains triumphant wilhiu 
his own breast. 

The proposition, ^Yhether of purchase or exchange, 
was specious and plausible. Even the tyrant himself 
dares not invade those rights Vvhich long prescription 
had sanctioned, and which gave Naboth a more just title 
to this vineyard than himself had to the throne. Yet 
dares not Naboth comply with the wishes of his master ; 
the Lord forbade him to alienate the inheritance of his 
fathers. The command of God was more binding- to the 
conscientious Israelite than the requests or injunctions 
of Ahab. An equivalent was easy to be obtained ; but 
what is a man profited if he gain the whole world and 
lose his own soul 1 or even wound his own conscience 1 
The Divine ordinances took e?pecial care to preserve for 
individuals and familiss their respective proportions in 
the land of promise. Nothing but extreme necessity 
allowed them to consign the inheritances to others; and 
even ihen, at the great year of jubilee, they reverted to 
the original owners. It was not without a spiritual im- 
port, that w^hosoever had once his part in the heavenly 
gift was directed to keep that safe which was committed 
to his trust. Ahab well knew the positive nature of the 
restriction, and yet he scrupled not to say, "Give me 
thy vineyard." 

The innocent Naboth must now either displease his 
king or disobey God. He prefers conscience to policy ; 
he fears not them that kill the body ; whether in death 
or life, he resolves to hold fast his integrity. Ahab can- 
not but see that the Divine prohibition alone interfered 
with his desires; and yet he goes down to his house 
heavy and displeased — he throws himself on his bed — 
he refuses to take sustenance. How ill can a proud 
heart endure contradiction ! The monarch of Israel, the 
conqueror of Syria, the vanquisher of him who brought 
two and thirty tributary kings into the field of battle, is 



NABOTII. 183 

a prey Lo anger, to grief, to pining sickness, because he 
cannot possess the vineyard of Naboth. the insatiable 
desires of covetousness ! O miserable Ahab, who, in the 
midst of royal splendor and most signal victories, art 
lost to all enjoyment while one trivial wish remains un- 
satisfied! 

Corrupt as was the heart of Ahab, he fears to make 
use of either fraud or violence for the accomplishment 
of his designs. The king of Israel is a mere novice in 
wickedness, when compared with his Zidonian v/ife. 
Jezebel approaches the bed where her lord abandoned 
himself to the petulance ef childish sorrow. '' Dost thou 
now govern the kingdom of Israel ] Arise, and eat bread, 
and let thine heart be merry. I will give thee the vine- 
yard of Naboth the Jezreelite." She chides the pusil- 
lanimity of her husband, and persuades him that his 
power is fettered if he regards the laws of justice. She 
demands his royal signet— she frames a letter in his name 
to the ciders of Jezreel — she bids them proclaim a fast, 
suborn false witnesses against Naboth, accuse him of 
blasphemy and treason, and consign him to instant death. 
Such is the price which Naboth must receive for his 
envied possession ! 

Who can without indignation contemplate the impious 
Jezebel naming a fast 1 The enemies of God can yet 
turn religion to their own advantage. She was not ig- 
norant that amongst the Israelites blasphemers were 
punished with death ; she knew their manner was to 
expiate a sin of this crying nature by public humiliation ; 
that two witnesses were necessary to convict the offend- 
er. All this she urged to her own purpose. There is 
no mischief so diabolical as that which is masked with 
piety. Villany is then redoubled, and the guilt of mur- 
der itself receives a deeper dye. 

But shall the rulers of Jezreel tamely acquiesce in 
these inhuman proceedings 1 Shall they not shudder at 



184^ 

the idea of being accomplices in such wickedness ] The 
Lord, who forbade Naboth to alienate the inheritance of 
his fathers, forbade them also to frame a perjury, to be- 
lie the truth, to abet corruption, to condemn the guilt- 
less. Alas ! the depravity of Israel was extreme ; they 
whose office called them to the punishment of crimes 
were most eager to oflend ; they who were called to tlie 
administration of justice were not afraid to shed inno- 
cent blood. Jezebel well knew whom she addressed — 
she found the ready obedience which she expected. A 
fast is proclaimed — the offender is summoned before his 
impious judges — false witnesses rise up — the magis- 
trates rend their garments, to testify their horror at 
Naboth's crime and their regret on account of its con- 
sequences. The blameless man is dismissed to instant 
execution j his vineyard, forfeited by his imaginary 
crimes, descends not to his children, who probably 
shared the fate of their father, (2 Kings, 9 : 26 ;) the re- 
morseless tyrant arises from his bed, goes down to the 
vineyard of Naboth, and takes immediate and unmolest- 
ed possession. 

How often does God, in his extreme displeasure, per- 
mit the sinner to effect the purposes of a wicked heart! 
The temporary success of guilt seems to argue that 
heaven and earth befriend it 3 till the slow but sure re- 
tribution, bursting on the head of the offender, pro- 
claims at once the justice and the power oC Jehovah. 
While Ahab is rejoicing in his nev/ acquisition, and pro- 
mising himself convenience and pleasure, he beholds 
Elijah sent to him from God with denunciations of ven- 
geance. How does the king's countenance change at 
once ! With what paleness in his cheek, what conster- 
nation in his eye, doth he behold the unwelcome pro- 
phet ! What a tumult of agonizing passions is in his 
soul while his tongue faintly utters, '' Kast thou found 
me, O mine enemy f ' 



NAEOTH. 



185 



How great is the power of conscience! Elijuh and 
Ahab had parted as friends j the king knew himself in- 
debted to the interposition of the man of God for those 
refreshing showers which had revived the hopes of Is- 
rael, but now his heart told him that he had nothing to 
expect but frowns from heaven. His continued idolatry, 
now seconded with blood, could not but make him odious 
to the Lord and to his prophet ; he felt that himself was 
an enemy to God, and therefore he looks for neither 
peace nor friendship at the hand of Elijah. '^ Hast thou 
killed, and also taken possession] Thus saith the Lord, 
In the place where dogs licked the blood of j\faboth^ shall 
dogs lick ihy bloody even thineP Well does the prophet 
charge this murder on Ahab. He knew the only means 
by which Jezebel could obtain the vineyard of Naboth — 
he knew the consequences of intrusting his signet to a 
merciless woman. He was accessary to the crime be- 
fore and after its perpetration. They who are in authori- 
ty may offend as much by connivance as others by act; 
not only command, but even permission involves them 
in the sins which they might have prevented and would 
not. The Divine law punishes by retaliation — v.diat Ahab 
hath done in cruelty he shall suffer in justice. Naboth, 
however, dies in his integrity — Ahab in his guilt. Na- 
both bleeds as a martyr — Ahab as an assassin. 

Soon does the battle in Ramoth-Gilead afford oppor- 
tunity for the infliction of this sentence. Neither the 
personal bravery of Ahab nor all his artful stratagems 
can avail to ward off the fatal blow. An arrow shot at 
random, but winged with Almighty vengeance reaches 
the heart of the disguised tyrant. O the just and mighty 
hand of that Divine providence which directs all things 
to the accomplishment of its own purpose ! Too late 
doth Ahab now think of the warnings of Elijah — too 
late doth he regret that he ever listened to the voice 
of Jezebel or the flatteries of apostate prophets. His 



186 EALl's SCRIPTUUE IIISTOSY. 

guilty blood runs down into the midst of his chariot and 
pays the arrear to Naboth — the chariot is washed in the 
pool of Samaria — the dogs lick up the blood of the king 
of Israel. The honor of God is justified — the word 
of his prophet is fulfilled — the death of his servant is 
avenged. Righteous art thou, O Lord, in all thy ways, 
and holy in all thy works ! 



40.— THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH. 

Long and successfully hath Elijah fought the good 
fight of faith, and nov/, after his victories, God will send 
him a chariot of triumph. How full of joy was the soul 
of the prophet when he was in immediate expectation 
of blessedness! With what contempt did he look on 
that earth which he was so shortly to leave ! With what 
i^apture did he cast his eyes towards that heaven which 
was about to receive him ! 

As the last public act of his mission he visits the 
sons of the prophets — those whom God had yet se- 
lected from an apostate nation to keep alive his sacred 
truth. 

Elisha resolves to accompany his master in all his 
journey. Thrice is he dissuaded from this act of zealous 
friendship — thrice he persists, in spite of entreaty and 
even command — Elijah, who expected his own assump- 
tion into heaven, knew not what witnesses might be 
permitted to behold it — his modest humility sought an 
unnoted and silent departure. But shall we not pardon 
the holy disobedience of this faithful disciple 1 "As 
the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave 
thee !" His master may be withdrawn from him, but he 



THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH. 187 

will not depart from his master — lie knew that the bless- 
ing was at the parting j and will not consent to it. 

The sons of the prophets, both at Bethel and Jericho, 
are aware of what shall befall Elijah. His departure was 
nn event of such importance that it was necessary to 
usher it in with tidings of preparation. Elisha has nei- 
ther leisure nor inclination to hold converse with his 
brethren — his whole thoughts, as well as his eyes, are 
fixed on his departing master. Together do this won- 
derful pair arrive at the banks of Jordan — while, at an 
awful distance, fifty of the consecrated band pursue 
their footsteps, and gaze on them w'ith respectful vene- 
ration. Miracles are not designed for obscurity : God 
will have witnesses to his marvellous acts. "When the 
Savior of mankind arose from the dead, he was seen of 
more than five hundred brethren at once : when he as- 
cended into heaven he arose from the Mount of Olives 
in the view of many eyes — eyes which were fixed on 
that astonishing sight with such intenseness as not to 
be recalled from it even by the approach of angels. 

How exact was the parallel between those mighty 
prophets who were afterwards seen in glory with their 
Lord upon Mount Tabor ! Both received visions on Ho- 
reb — to each of them God appeared there in fire, earth- 
quakes, and other forms of terror. Both resorted to the 
wilderness — were sent on embassies from heaven to re- 
bellious kings — dispensed miraculous food — were zea- 
lous for the extermination of idolatry — quenched the 
drought of Israel — divided the waters — finished their 
glorious labors near the banks of Jordan. The body of 
Elijah is translated — that of Moses is hidden — what one 
effects by his rod the other can accomplish by his man- 
tle. With this he smites the river, and bids its weaves 
retire before his feet, that he may without delay ascend 
his celestial chariot. 

Now, when Elijah feels himself treading on his last 



188 hall's scripture history. 

earth he no longer addresses his faithful associate with 
words of discouragement. '' Ask what I shall do for 
thee before I be taken from thee." The holy prophei 
waits not long for a reply — out of the abundance of the 
heart the mouth speaketh. '' I pray thee, let a double 
portion of thy spirit fall upon me." Elisha demands nei- 
ther wealth, nor safety, nor ease, nor honor — he holds 
no blessing comparable with his master's spirit. No am- 
bition mingled itself with the fervent request. He knew 
that the times into which he was fallen required no com- 
mon exertions — he knew that the successor of Elijah 
must be endued with the spirit of miracles as well as 
that of prophecy. We cannot be too desirous of spirit- 
ual gifts, especially such as enable us to promote the 
glory of God in our respective stations. Our wishes 
are the touchstone of our hearts — such as we seek to 
be, we are. The worldling covets earthly things ; the 
christian those which are Divine. 

Elijah acknowledges the difficulty of the request, yet 
on one condition promises its completion — '* If thou see 
me, when I am taken from thee, it shall be so unto thee 
— if not, it shall not be so." The eye of Elisha must be 
fixed in attention, that his faith may be confirmed by the 
miracle he shall behold. If his thoughts are remiss, if 
his eye-lids slumber, his hopes are cancelled — there 
must be more than common vigilance in those who 
desire a double portion of heavenly graces. 

Lo, while these servants of God are thus employed, 
the chariot of fire appears. Elijah is summoned from 
the world at a moment when he is instructing another, 
not praying for himself. There can be no better state in 
which the minister of Christ can be found by the mes- 
senger of dissolution, than that of diligence in his sacred 
calling. Attendance on these duties is no less pleasing to 
God than immediate devotion. Blessed is that servant, 
vv^hom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing! 



THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH. 189 

marvellous display of celestial splendor! A\lio, 
save Enoch and Elijah, was visibly taken np to eternal 
rest 1 What glory exceeded theirs, save that of Him, 
who by his ov.-n immediate power, and not by the min- 
stry of ano^els, raised himself far above the heavens 1 



isi 



He ascended as the Son — they as servants. He ascended 
as God — they as creatures. By their reception into 
heaven we are assured that even our earthly tabernacle 
may be admitted into the regions of joy — in their case 
instantaneously, by the command of God — in ours, after 
that mysterious exchange, when this corruptible shall 
put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on im- 
mortality. Hereafter a dUy shall come, when the Son 
of man will descend from heaven with a shout, with 
the voice of the Archangel and the trump of God. 
Then they who are alive and remain will be caught 
up together, with the raised bodies of saints, into the 
clouds, to meet the Lord in the air, and to rejoice for 
ever in his glory. At that awful moment, when the ele- 
ments shall be dissolved, and the heavens shall be in 
flames around him, the christian will lift up his head re- 
joicing, for his redemption draweth nigh. Meantime, 
be it death, or fire, or whirlwind, the messenger is wel- 
come which calls him to immortality. 

Sudden and immediate as was the ascent of Elijah, 
his disciple can yet exclaim, as he beholds it, '^ My fa- 
ther, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
thereof!" The glory to which the prophet is sum- 
moned cannot altogether bring comfort to those he 
leaves behind him. While he is yet between heaven 
and earth, the son of his adoption rends his clothes in a 
transport of sorrow, and pities the desolation of Israel. 

The mantle of Elijah falls from him as he is rising. 
Elisha takes up the dear memorial of his glorified mas- 
ter. With this he had been invested when he received 
his Divine appointment to the ministry — it now comes 



190 

to him, as it were from heaven, for a possession. Sen- 
sible of its preternatural value, he casts it reverently 
about him— he approaches the waters of Jordan — 
" Where is the Lord God of Elijah 1" As if he had said, 
" Lord God, it was thy promise, by my departed mas- 
ter, that if I should see him in his ascent, a double por- 
tion of his spirit should rest upon me. J followed him 
with my eyes in that fire and whirlwind — now, there- 
fore, O God, fulfill thy word unto thy servant — show 
some token unto me for good — make this the first proof 
of that miraculous power with which thou hast endued 
mc. Let Jordan give way to me, as it gave to my mas- 
ter!" Immediately the stream, acknowledging as it 
were the same mantle, though in other hands, divides 
itself and yields a passage to the highly-favored Elisha. 
The fifty sons of the prophets, who had witnessed 
these admirable events, are not slow to do obeisance 
to the man of God — but, full of zeal as well as reve- 
rence, they would fain seek for the departed saint, 
as if the Spirit of God had taken him to some remote 
mountain or valley — as if he had not been translated 
beyond the sphere of mortality. For awhile Elisha for- 
bids them, till their vehemence extorts his unwilling 
permission. After three days' anxious search, the mes- 
sengers return, abashed and weary; no longer are they 
deaf to conviction, no longer insensible of their master's 
happier lot. They who would indeed follow Elijah, 
must aspire to the heavenly Paradise; they must walk 
in the ways of his holy and constant obedience ; they 
must imitate his fidelity, his patience, his undaunted 
courage, his fervent zeal; so shall God send the fiery 
chariot of death to translate them to the heaven of 
heavens, where with the spirits of just men made per- 
fect, and with Jesus, the mediator of a better covenant, 
they shall triumph in the fulness of everlasting glory. 



THE SHUNAMMITE. 191 



41.— THE SHUNAMMITE. 

"Into whatsoever city or town ye shall enter, inquire 
who in it is worthy, and there abide till ye go thenoe." 
Such was the injunction delivered by our Lord to the' 
earliest preachers of Christianity. Sometimes they were 
to experience the persecution which befell the prophets 
of old — sometimes they were to receive the same kind 
olliccs of hospitality. Elisha, in his progress through- 
out the land of Israel, finds at Shimcm a pious family 
who knew how to vaUie the privilege of having un- 
der their roof a man of Gx>d. AVith this venerable pair 
(whose names are lost, while their virtues are recorded) 
the prophet was received in the name of a prophet — he 
was welcomed as a frieii'i — he v/as hi^nored as a father. 

The Shunammite, a wealthy and religious matron, 
finding that the duties of Elisha's public character called 
him often near her dwelling, requests her husband to 
prepare for their guest a place of reception suited to 
the simplicity and holiness of his characier. That holi- 
ness made her ambitious of his fiiendsliip — she sought 
for no other recompense than his prayers. 

Blessed of God is that man who in the partner of his 
life finds an help meet for him in the way towards hea- 
ven. The request is no sooner made than granted. 
The tumult of a numerous family was unfit for the quiet 
meditations of a prophet — retirement was best adapted 
to one v>'ho held familiar converse with his God. 

Elisha is not so fastidious as to neglect this friendly 
ofier of accommodation. He gladly talies up his abode 
•with persons of so much worth j and pleased with his 
own quiet repose and their hospitable attention, sends 
his servant Gehazi with a message expressive of his 
satisfaction and gratitude. " Behold, thou hast been 
careful for us with all this care — what is to be done for 



192 hall's scripture history. 

thee 1 Wilt thou be spoken for to the king, or to the 
captain of the host 1" An ingenuous disposition cannot 
receive favors without purpose of return. Elisha, who 
had not been wanting in spiritual duties, gives the 
Shunammite her choice of a temporal recompense. 

But how shall the prophet find such favor in a profli- 
gate court as to promise his influence with the king in 
behalf of merit 1 The time was when his illustrious 
predecessor was met with words of anger and de- 
fiance — "Hast thou found me, mine e?iemyV^ But 
now the recent miracle -wrought by Elisha in favor of 
Jehorara (whose armies he had relieved when fainting 
with thirst, and crowned with unexpected victory) gives 
him no difficulty of access to the throne. Faulty as was 
the son of Ahab, he honored the prophet of God; if the 
Shunammite desire any token of royal favor, she shall 
need no other solicitor than Elisha. There cannot be a 
better office, nor one more becoming a prophet, than 
to speak in behalf of the dumb, to befriend and patron- 
ise the oppressed, to win greatness t-o the protection 
of innocence. 

The good matron is not insensible of Elisha's kind- 
ness, but modestly declines accepting it — " / dicell 
among mine own people. Thy courtesy is great in itself, 
but not useful to me. I live quietly in a contented ob- 
scurity, out of the reach either of the glories or cares 
of a court — free from wrongs, free from envy. Not so 
high as to provoke an evil eye ; not so low as to be 
trodden on. My neighbors are my friends — my friends 
are my protectors— and, if I should be so imhappy as 
to meet with injurious treatment, would not fail to be 
my advocates. Thy profTered favor is for those who 
covet grandeur or groan under oppression — I do nei- 
ther — I dwell among mine own people." Shunam- 
mite, who can hear of thine happy condition, of thy 
peaceful contentment, without admiration and applause! 



THE SHUNAMMITE. 193 

If the world afford any perfect felicity, it is in a middle 
estate, equally distant from penury and from excess — 
it is in a cahn freedom, a secure tranquillity, a thank- 
ful enjoyment of ourselves and all that is ours. 

But, alas, by how frail a tenure do we hold the best 
of earthly privileges'! how long is the Shimammite thus 
blessed with peace 1 The day is not far distant when 
she shall throw herself, a miserable suppliant, at the 
feet of the king of Israel, deprived by famine and ty- 
ranny of all those possessions which afforded her such 
comfort. They who seem to stand securely are not ex- 
empt from danger — no man can say that he shall not 
need the protection of friends. Her suit would have 
found no acceptance, had not Gehazi, in the absence of 
Elisha, interceded for her with the king, and performed 
that office of friendship which was not accepted from 
his master. 

Even now, in her more prosperous days, the Shu- 
nammite was not exempt from sorrow. She was child- 
less; she was a stranger to that tender joy which fills 
the maternal bosom. Elisha shall now bring her glad 
tidings, and greet her with the promise of a blessing 
she deemed incredible. " Thou shalt embrace a son." 

How bounteous is the mercy of God, who limits not 
his favors to our thoughts, but gives us benefits more 
than we presume to ask, more than we even dare ex- 
pect ! The holy matron doubts, from excess of joy — 
^'Nay, thou man of God, do not lie unto thine hand- 
maid!" She well knew that the prophet was incapable 
of wilful falsehood ; but she thought it possible that a 
trial of her faith might be intended, not a positive as- 
sertion of such welcome import ! Yet, lo, the promise 
is fulfilled; at the time appointed the Shunammite bears 
a son. They who have mourned under her affliction can 
best conjecture her transports. The child grows up, 
and is now able to attend the delighted father in his 

Script. Hiit. 9 



194? hall's scripture history. 

rural occupations, and to share the ''joy of harvest/' 
O the instability of human happiness ! The hot beams 
of the sun beat upon that head which too much care 
had made delicate. The child complains to his father 
of his pain ; he consigns him to the care of a tender 
mother. At noon her son expires on the bosom which 
had preserved his infant-life ; to which he had so often 
been clasped in maternal fondness. 

The Shunammite hath lost her child; her faith she 
hath not lost. Passion deprives her not of wisdom. 
With a presence of mind beyond all praise she conceals 
her anguish ; she demands permission of her husband 
to repair to l\rount Carmel ; she hastens to the feet 
of Elisha. 

The man of God sees her afar off, and anxiously 
sends Gehazi to inquire after her welfare and that of 
her family. She has no words for the messenger of Eli- 
sha ; no ear shall receive her complaint but that of the 
prophet. The long-suppressed sorrow bursts forth as 
she embraces those venerable knees: '' Did I desire a 
son of my lord \ Did I not say. Do not deceive me? O 
thou servant of God, had I with undue importunity' so- 
licited the blessing I have lost, had I wearied heaven 
with petulant exclamations, I might have imagined that 
the gift was bestowed on me in anger. I might have 
looked forward to some melancholy reverse of fortune. 
But since thy prayers, not my complaints, ascended to 
the throne of mercy, since they were heard and an- 
swered, was I to expect this aggravation of torment 1 
Was not the want of a son less grievous than the lossl 
Was not barrenness itself more tolerable than such a 
deprivation l Did I receive my child for no other pur- 
pose than that I might lament him ] O thou man of God. 
let that same intercession which procured me the object 
of my love, restore him to my arms ; let not my vene- 
ration for thee be repaid with such exquisite misery. 



NAAMAN. 195 

Hasten, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to console a 
distracted mother ; as the Lord liveth, and as thy soul 
liveth, I will not leave thee." 

O noble faith of the Shunammitc, not to be discouraged 
by death itself, raising up her heart to an expectation 
of that life which in the eye of nature had been irrevo- 
cable, impossible ! infinite goodness of the Almighty, 
which would not suffer such faith to be frustrated — 
which chose rather to reverse the laws of nature, to 
raise a body from death, to recall a departed spirit, than 
that the confidence of a believing heart should be disap- 
pointed ! We adore and praise thee, O God, for the 
gifts and graces bestowed on these thy holy prophets — 
glorious fellow-laborers in the vineyard, through whose 
powerful intercession with thee such miracles were dis- 
played to mankind — who by faith wrought righteous- 
ness, obtained promises, escaped the edge of the sword, 
reproved idolatrous kings, caused water to spring from 
the earth, and fire to descend from the skies — through 
whose prayers women received their dead raised to life 
again — who had one mantle, one spirit— ^who ascended 
one Carmel, one heaven ! 



42.~NAAMAN. 

Greatness can secure no man from calamity. Naaman 
was a great warrior, an honorable courtier, the distin- 
guished favorite of his sovereign, but he was a leper; 
and under the pressure of this loathsome sickness all 
his valor, dignity, renown, victories, seem only an ag- 
gravation of his sorrow. The God of Israel looked on 



196 hall's scripture history. 

this Syrian with an eye of pity, and his Divine provi- 
dence pointed out the means of deliverance. 

The captivity of a poor Hebrew female effects this 
astonishing work. How gaod is it to acquaint our chil- 
dren with the mercy of God ! Many shall hear it and 
fear, and shall put their trust in the Lord. Removed 
from the land of her nativity, reduced to servitude, a 
stranger in a strange country, this daughter of Israel 
forgets not Jehovah or his servant. '^ Would God mj^ 
Lord were with the prophet in Israel, for he would heal 
him of his leprosy." 

The word was not spoken in vain. The king of Syria 
delays not to send his favorite with letters to the king 
of Israel, requiring the cure from his hands. The Sy- 
rian imagined that what a subject could do a sovereign 
might command : proudly does he signify his wishes, 
without deigning to point out the means whereby they 
may be effected. " Now when this letter is come unto 
thee, behold I have herewith sent Naaman my servant 
to thee, that thou mayst recover him of his leprosy." 

Jehoram rends his clothes in terror and amazement. 
" Am I God," saith he, '^ to kill, and to make alive 1" 
To require that of a mortal which is proper only to the 
Almighty, is a manifest derogation from that power 
which belongeth unto God. Had Jehoram been truly 
religious, the injury done to his Maker would have more 
affected him than his own personal danger. He was not 
unacquainted with the virtue of Elisha's prayers — he 
had himself experienced their efficacy — yet must that 
service be proffered which ought to have been instantly 
and earnestly requested. '^ Wherefore hast thou rent thy 
clothes'? Let him come now to me, and he shall know 
that there is a prophet in Israel." 

We must not set too great a value on our own dignity 
where we expect a benefit. Naaman comes richly at- 
tended, with his troop of servants and horses, and waits 



NAAMAN. 197 

in his chariot at the door of Elisha. The prophet re- 
ceives him not under his roof, nor does he even go forth 
to do honor to this illustrious stranger. He will make 
trial both of his faith and his humility. " Go, wash in 
Jordan seven times, and thou shalt be clean." 

Naaman departs in transports of fury — he considers 
the word as uttered in scorn. " Can water cleanse from 
leprosy 1 Is Jordan more medicinal than other streams'? 
Am I come thus far to be insulted by an Israelite 1 Is 
this the event of my journey and the letters of my kingl 
Could this prophet find none but Naaman to treat with 
indignity 1 Had he meant seriously, why did he not 
condescend to come forfh to me 1 Why did he not 
touch me ,with his hand, and bless me with his prayers, 
and heal me with his blessing 1 Is my misery fit for his 
derision 1 If water could remove it, why did I leave my 
native country 1 Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of 
Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel ]" Folly 
and pride strive for mastery in the carnal heart, and it is 
hard to say which is most predominant. The natural 
man is altogether led by his outward senses — judges of 
all objects by the mere appearance — acquaints not him- 
self with God — adheres obstinately to his own false prin- 
ciples — disdains the supposed inferiority of others — up- 
braids them with proud and insulting boasts of his ima- 
gined excellence. To such a man the doctrine, the ser- 
vices, the ordinances of Christ are objects of contempt 
and ridicule. He looks on Jordan with Syrian eyes, one 
drop of which, set apart by Divine ordination, has more 
real virtue, more saving efficacy, than all the waters of 
Abana and Pharpar. 

Happy are they who, whatever be the station of the 
adviser, disdain not to listen to wholesome admonition. 
The servants of Naaman prove his best and most valua- 
ble friends. They fear not to approach him in the height 
of his indignation. " ^ly father, if the prophet had bid 



198 hall's scripture history. 

thee do some great thing, wouldst thou not have done 
it 1 How much rather then, when he saith to thee, Wash 
and be clean ?" These men consulted not the passion 
but the welfare of their lord ; they would rather advise 
than flatter — rather exhort him to good than follow him 
to evil. Since it was a prophet from whom he received 
the injunction, they entreat him not to despise it. They 
alledge that the simplicity of the proposed remedy was 
no argument against its efficacy while the power of him 
who prescribed it was supernatural. They tell him that 
the virtue of the cure depended on his own faith and obe- 
dience, not on the outward means suggested by Elisha. 
They persuade, and prevail. Naaman goes down, at their 
earnest persuasion, and dips himself seven times in Jor- 
dan. Next to God and the prophet, he may thank his 
attendants that he is no longer a leper. His unjust fury 
has not prevented his recovery ; the word of Jehovah 
and of his consecrated servant stands sure, in spite of 
mortal petulance and presumption. Long might Naaman 
have washed there in vain if Elisha had not sent him : 
many a leper had bathed in those waters and remained 
unclean. It is the ordinance of God which gives effect 
to what in itself is weak and inadequate to its purpose. 
Naaman departed in rage ; he returns filled with hu- 
mility and gratitude. His heart is no less purified from 
turbulent passions than his body from sickness. He re- 
turns not to the royal court either of Benhadad or Je- 
horam ; he will not even make his family partakers of 
his joy till he has presented himself before that holy 
prophet, once the object of indignation, now of reveren- 
tial love. The man of God admits the recovered Syrian, 
though he refused to see the leper. Purposely did he 
decline the former interview, that he might share no part 
of the praise with his Maker — that he might hear this 
noble confession in its full force, ''Behold, now I know 
that there is no God in all the earth but in Israel." 



NAAMAN. 199 

But while Naaman thus does homage to the Author 
of his cure, he will not forget the instrument. Richly 
furnished with silver, and gold, and raiment, he will not 
confine himself to barren acknowledgments. Some tes- 
timony of his thankfulness he is anxious to leave behind 
him, though all earthly recompense fall short of the 
benefit received. '' I pray thee, take a blessing of thy 
servant." 

The holy prophet, with a degree of honest vehemence, 
refuses to accept these free-will offerings of gratitude j 
not that he deemed it unlawful, but in the present in- 
stance inexpedient. He would have his new convert see 
cause to be more enamored of true piety, which teaches 
her children to contemn those riches and honors that 
are adored by worldlings; and would impress upon his 
mind that the gifts of God are neither to be purchased 
nor rewarded with money* 

Naaman acquiesces and departs. He goes, resolved 
to profess himself an Israelite in religion. All the court 
of Syria shall know that he sacrifices on consecrated 
earth to the God of Israel ; they shall hear him protest 
that he has neither heart nor knee for Rimmon. If he 
must go into the house of that idol, it shall be of ne- 
cessity, not of choice ; his duty to his master shall carry 
him, not his devotion to his master's god. Yet had not 
Naaman deemed this a fault he would not have requested 
pardon. His heart told him that a perfect convert should 
have abhorred the temple, the sight of Rimmon ; that 
his obedience to an earthly master should not draw him 
to any secondary observance of idolatry — that a sincere 
detestation of sin was utterly inconsistent with this 
temporizing submission. 

Far, therefore, is Naaman from being an example, save 
of weakness ; he is yet more than half a Syrian — he is 
a babe, unskilful in the word of righteousness. The pro- 
phet, who would have rebuked an Israelite^ will not ob- 



200 hall's scripture history. 

scure the dawn of a heathen's conversion. He dismisses 
him in the accustomed terms of valediction. They are 
parted. 

Gehazi cannot thus take his leave. His heart is in 
the treasure of Naaman. He deems his lord frantic for 
refusing the proffered gifts. He runs with guilty speed 
that he may recover a part of the booty. Naaman sees 
him, and spares not to humble himself before the ser- 
vant of Elisha. The half-breathless messenger utters 
his plausible fiction — receives a boon beyond his utmost 
wishes — returns with the glittering load, and, when he 
has secreted it, stands boldly before his master. O Ge- 
hazi, couldst thou so long have poured water on the 
hands of Elisha, and still be ignorant of that eye of Pro- 
vidence which was ever fixed upon thy heart 1 Didst 
thou not know that thy paths were overlooked by invi- 
sible witnesses 1 Couldst thou hope to delude God and 
his prophet 1 Hear then thy sentence, and be convinced 
to thy confusion : " Thou wouldst take part of Naaman's 
treasure^ thou shalt inherit his loathsome infirmity. As 
a monument of thy guilt, and as a proof that God is not 
mocked, the leprosy of Naaman shall cleave unto thee, 
and to thy seed for ever." 



43.— JEHU. 

For a long series of years had the crimes of Ahab's 
family caused horror and consternation in Israel. At 
last the measure of their enormities is full. The Divine 
mercy will be scorned and insulted no longer. Reproofs, 
admonitions, judgments, deliverances, have all failed of 



JEHU. 20 1 

their effect. What remains, but that the offended jus- 
tice of heaven take its course 1 Awake, awake, put on 
strength, O arm of the Lord. It is time for thee to work, 
for they have made void thy law. Arise, O God, main- 
tain thine own cause. The presumption of them that 
hate thee increaseth more and more. 

The voice of inspiration had long since commanded 
Elijah to anoint Jehu king over Israel. The disciple of 
Elijah was no doubt commissioned by his master to ac- 
complish whatever his own sudden translation to glory 
had left unfinished. What could be a more convenient 
time for this purpose, than when the army of Israel 
were assembled under the command of Jehu, in the ab- 
sence of the wounded Jehoram. A moment now lost 
might have been irrecoverable. Elisha sends a messen- 
ger in haste to Kamoth-Gilead to pour the consecrated 
oil on the head of the unsuspecting warrior. 

No sooner is the young prophet arrived at the place 
of his destination, than he calls Jehu from his assem- 
bled companions. The wisdom of God fixed on a mo- 
ment Avhen the public view of a sacred messenger, and 
the mysterious nature of the conference he demanded, 
might prepare the hearts of these commanders of Israel 
to the expectation of some great design. 

Now shall the blood of the prophets be avenged on 
Jezebel; the tyranny and idolatry of the house of Ahab 
shall bring destruction on their heads. Ahab shall have 
no posterity, Jezebel no tomb. The long-threatened, 
long-delayed vengeance, \vhen it seemed forgotten by 
God and man, falls at once in all its terrors on this im- 
pious family. 

The prophet has fulfilled his ministry, and is gone. 
Jehu returns to his impatient companions, who cannot 
for a moment restrain their curiosity. '^ Is all well '? 
Wherefore came this mad fellow to thee V The pro- 
phets of God were to these idolatrous Israelites like 

9* 



2C2 hall's scripture history. 

meteors — their appearance seemed to portend only de- 
struction. While the priests of Baal sacrifice, all is well ; 
but when the servant of Jehovah presents himself, their 
guilt vainly attempts to shelter its terrors under the af- 
fectation of contempt. 

The message was not given to Jehu for concealment. 
The habit of the stranger had sufficiently declared him 
a prophet. Their general acquaints them with all the 
circumstances of the momentous interview — tells them 
of the prediction — presents himself to them as their 
lawful sovereign, anointed by the direction of God to 
drive the race of usurpers from a throne polluted by 
their crimes. 

Scarcely had the captains of the host heard the con- 
clusion of the story, ere they rise from their seats, 
moved by some Divine impulse, and instantly seize 
their arms : a throne is raised for Jehu — the leaders of 
Israel vie with each other in their zeal to do him ho- 
mage — they proclaim with sound of trumpet, "Jehu is 
KING !" Mad as they pronounce the prophet, at his word 
they adventure their lives and allot the royal dignity. 
God gives a secret authority to his despised servants ; 
they who hate their persons will yet respect the truths 
they are commissioned to impart. Even scorners can- 
not but reverence the faithful ambassadors of Christ. 

Jehu is no less wise than valiant. He determines to 
surprise Jehoram in the palace of Jezreel before any 
messenger can carry intelligence of his inauguration. 
"While the trumpets are yet sounding he ascends his 
chariot. 

Ahaziah, king of Judah, too nearly connected with 
Jehoram in manners as well as blood, was at this time 
feasting in Jezreel. The watchman on the tower espies 
a company. All was supposed to be at peace in Israel — 
Judah was so closely joined to it in bands of amity, that 
the two monarchs were under one roof, as friends and 



JEHU. 203 

brethren — yet an alarm is hastily given. Jehoram 
knows not whether the approaching multitude consists 
of Syrians who have recovered Ramoth, or of his own 
vanquished subjects, or of conspirators against his per- 
son and throne. The messengers he sends to meet them 
are forcibly detained. The king of Israel forgets his 
wounds and goes himself in search of death. 

Yet when he sees the captain of his armies, hope 
contends with fear and apprehension — " Is it peace, Je- 
hu ? What means this sudden journey 1 Is the army 
defeated by the Syrians 1 Have they retaken Ramoth- 
Gileadl Has the dispersion of the enemy left thee no 
room to display thy valor] Or is thy speed occasioned 
by some unexpected misfortune V 

There scarcely needs an answer. Fury sparkles in 
the eyes of Jehu ; his look is the harbinger o( destruc- 
tion to his adversary — ^' What peace, so long as the 
whoredoms of thy mother Jezebel and her witchcrafts 
are so manyV 

" Why speakest thou o( peace with men, inhuman 
tyrant, who hast so long waged war with God 1 Thine 
accursed mother trained thee up to blood, and inured 
thee to impious idolatry. Her crimes, her cruelties are 
thine — thou art corrupted by her abominations ; thou art 
enchanted by her sorceries. The just God, whom thou 
and thy parents have daringly blasphemed, sends thee 
by me, this last message of his vengeance." 

While he speaks, his hand is drawing the fatal arrow 
from his quiver. Too late doth Jehoram turn his chariot 
and flee. Too late does the traitor to God complain of 
Jehu's treason. The weapon is directed to his heart, it 
is fixed there by the unerring arm of Divine retribution. 

How just are the judgments of God! It was in the 
field of Naboth that Jehu met with Jehoram. That pro- 
phecy, which he had heard pronounced by Elijah to 
Ahab, his own hand has now accomplished. The blood 



204« hall's scripture history. 

of Jehoram falls on that ground which had been tyran- 
nously seized by the father, and which the son had nei- 
ther the piety nor the justice to restore. 

It was time for Ahaziah to flee. Long since should 
he have withdrawn himself from the crimes of the house 
of Ahab. He partakes in their sin ; he partakes in their 
punishment. The impious alliance brings its too well- 
deserved wages. The king of Judah, who had accompa- 
nied Jehoram in his idolatries, accompanies him also in 
his death. 

What now shall become of Jezebel 1 Will she not be- 
take herself to sackcloth and ashes, when she hears of 
the untimely fate of her son, the degradation of her 
family, the success of her prosperous rivall Will she 
not cast herself as a suppliant at the feet of Jehu, and 
implore him to spare her life, (though sullied with such 
various guilt,) in pity to her age and the dignity w^ith 
which she was invested ] Will she not petition for her 
yet surviving children 1 Far otherwise. Her proud 
heart is incapable of submission. She collects her 
haughty spirits, and, instead of humbling her soul by re- 
pentance, or preparing for instant death, she seeks to 
daunt the courage of this conqueror by the sudden 
beams of majesty. She looks down upon him with in- 
solent disdain — challenges him as a traitor-^calls to his 
remembrance the short-lived glories of Zimri, who slew 
his master — forgets that her own life is in his hands, and 
that she has no dependence but on his clemency. 

The resolution of Jehu was not to be shaken by a 
painted face or an opprobrious tongue. He looks up 
and commands the fawning minions of Jezebel, who 
stood around her, to cast her down headlong. Who shall 
trust the venal services of a treacherous heart 1 Long 
had these eunuchs bent their knee in humble obsequi- 
ousness to the queen of Israel — now, at the call of a 
triumphant enemy, they forget her royalty and their own 



ATIIALIAH. 205 

allegiance, and consign her, as willing executioners, to 
her miserable fate. Such was the fall of pride — so perish- 
ed the insolent, the idolatrous, the sanguinary Jezebel! 

Death puts an end to all dipleasure. Jehu, who spared 
not the life of this impious woman, will not forget her 
sepulture. Though the tranquillity of his kingdom and 
his personal safety \vould not suffer him to pardon her, 
he commands her to be interred as a Zidonian princess, 
the daughter, wife and mother of kings. The dogs have 
already prevented him in his purpose. The word of 
Elijah is fully verified — the dreadful sentence is literally 
fulfilled — the blood of Naboth and of the prophets is 
fearfully required. 

Righteous art thou, O God, and just are thy judg- 
ments! 



44.— A THALIA H. 

Now is Jehu peaceably settled on the throne of Israel, 
^lankind no longer tremble at the enormities of the 
house of Ahab. The sacrilegious rites of Baal are ban- 
ished out of the land. The sword of Divine justice re- 
turns into its scabbard — it is at rest — it is still. 

Unambitious of further conquests, the king forbears 
to take advantage of those confusions into which the 
neighboring empire is thrown by the death of Ahaziah. 
He has finished the task for which the prophetic voice 
appointed him — he has prospered in the work he vv'as 
commissioned to perform. Idolatry and tyranny are 
heard of no more. Had he but reformed as well as re- 
stored the \vorship of Jehovah — had he destroyed the 
imajres of Jeroboam as well as the idols of Ahab, the 



206 hall's scripture history. 

blessing of the house of David would have fallen on his 
head and on his remote descendants. 

But, alas, the heart of Jehu was not perfect with God. 
He fears to deviate from the fatal policy of his prede- 
cessors. He dares not commit his way unto the Lord 
— he dares not bid the tribes go up to worship at Jeru- 
salem. Yet shall his obedience, partial as it is, not fail 
of a temporal reward. Four generations of his posterity 
shall sit on the throne of Israel before the family of Jehu 
is extinctj like that of Omri, of Baasha, and of the son 
of Nebat. 

In the meantime what scenes of horror are passing in 
the kingdom of Judah ! How truly is Athaliah the sis- 
ter of Jezebel, in soul as well as alliance ! To her care 
the sceptre had been committed by her son when he de- 
parted to assist Jehoram in war. Ahaziah was fallen — 
his brethren were no more — they perished by the hand 
of Jehu. See 2 Kings, 10 : 13, 14. Who would not pity 
the sorrows of the disconsolate Athaliah 1 Who would 
not imagine, that when the first transports of her grief 
were over she would seek with avidity her only remain- 
ing comfort, the society of those dear and innocent chil- 
dren whose early orphanage called for a more than com- 
mon share of tenderness from the mother of their slaugh- 
tered parent "? She does indeed betake herself to the 
place of their abode — she repairs thither to feast her 
eyes with death and assassination. O the cruelty of aa 
ambitious heart! To secure herself in the royal dignity 
the barbarian can command, can even witness a deed of 
so atrocious a nature as is altogether unparalleled in the 
annals of mankind. 

In the horrors of a siege, in the ravages of famine, 
the hands of miserable women have fastened on their 
offspring ; alas ! here was nothing but the craving of 
pride — nothing but an execrable thirst for sovereignty. 
"Even the sea-monsters draw out the breast, they give 



ATHALIAH. 207 

suck to their brood ;" even the lion, who fills his holes 
with prey and his dens with rapine, takes the spoil and 
tears it in pieces for his young ones. Their cruelties are 
tender mercies in comparison with those of the daugh- 
ter of Omri. Zion spreadeth forth her hands, and there 
is none to comfort her — her eyes do fail with tears, be- 
cause the children and the sucklings perish in the streets 
of Jerusalem. How is the faithful city covered with a 
cloud of sorrow! It was full of judgment, righteous- 
ness lodged in it, but now murderers. Her adversaries 
are the chief, her enemies prosper, her priests sigh, her 
virgins are afflicted, and §he is in bitterness. 

Wicked Athaliah ! dost thou think that God has for- 
gotten his servant David, and the terms of his holy co- 
venant \ Shall thy guilty zeal for Baal, or thine inordi- 
nate lust of empire, root out all the posterity of the son 
of Jesse ] The man after God's own heart shall have a 
lineal heir to sit in his throne when thou and thy father's 
house shall have perished — when the records of thy 
guilt shall alone preserve thee from oblivion. 

Happy was it for Israel that the crown disdained not 
to hold alliance with the temple. The sister of Ahaziah 
thought it no degradation to her dignity to become the 
wife of Jehoiada the high-priest. No sooner is this royal 
matron acquainted with the recent massacre than she 
hastens into the chamber of death. Athaliah had already 
retired, assured that the bloody w^ork was accomplished. 
Jehosheba perceives a spark of life not utterly extin- 
guished in the heart of the infant Joash — she boldly 
takes him from among the slain — she recalls his depart- 
ing spirit — she commits him to the protection of her 
husband. God looks down from heaven upon the strata- 
gems of tyrants, and confounds them in their ou-n de- 
vices. The word hath gone forth to David, " Of the 
fruit of thy body will I set upon thy throne j" in vain 
ehall earth or hell conspire to frustrate it. 



208 hall's scripture history. 

Six years does Judah groan under the tyranny of an 
idolatrous woman — so long is the lawful sovereign con- 
cealed in the recesses of the temple, into which the 
worshippers of Baal disdained to enter. Jehoiada now 
thinks fit to assert that title which had been lost in usur- 
pation. Ambition might have prompted him to continue 
Joash in obscurity, and advanced his v*^ife, the daughter 
of Jehoram, to the throne ; his heart has far other ob- 
jects in its view. He assembles the scattered remains 
of those servants of God on whose zeal and piety he 
could depend ; he gives every one his charge ; he dis- 
poses all things for the safety of the prince, the punish- 
ment of Athaliah, the prevention of tumult, the estab- 
lishment of the royal authority on the head of Joash in 
peace and joy. 

All things are now ready for the solemnity. Every 
heart pants for the approach of the long-concealed sove- 
reign to his inauguration. Every one vows to devote 
his life to the service of his lawful king. At length Je- 
hoiada presents him to the assembly in the temple. 
Scarcely can the multitude refrain from shouting aloud 
too soon. One traces in his countenance the features of 
his father Ahaziah — another those of Jehoram-^ while 
the more aged warriors dwell fondly on his fancied re- 
semblance to their beloved master, the great and good 
Jehosliaphat. All find in his face the natural impres- 
sions of majesty — all read in it the most auspicious pro- 
mise of future happiness. Jehoiada, with joyful haste, 
proceeds to his coronation. The holj^ oil is poured on 
his head — the diadem is placed on his brows — the book 
of the law is presented to his hand. By these instructive 
ceremonies he was taught to entertain a proper sense of 
the calling of God, the dignity of his own character, 
and the importance of that Divine word by which all his 
actions should be regulated. 

Now do the people clap their hands and burst out 



^TIIALIAH. 209 

with loud acclamations of joy. From the recesses of 
her palace Athaliah hears the shouts of the multitude, 
the noise of trumpets, the tumult of applause. Instantly 
she repairs to the temple, on whose threshold her feet 
had probably never trodden. Those honest hearts which 
had devoted themselves to their king and their God had 
agreed in religious secresy. No circumstance had trans- 
pired. Tyranny itself wms devoid of suspicion. Atha- 
liah feared not to approach those hallowed walls alone 
and unattended. 

What a spectacle for an impious usurper ! She hears 
the multitude exclaiming, " God save the king!" She 
sees the heir to the kingdom sitting on his throne, in- 
vested with all the insignia of royalty, guarded by a 
faithful band of soldiers, proclaimed with trumpets, hail- 
ed by the joyful shouts of the people. 

As if that voice of hers might command all hearts, 
all hands, she rends her robes and cries, " Treason, trea- 
son !" O Athaliah, of whom dost thou complain 1 Thine 
was the treason, theirs is justice. The true son of Aha- 
ziah, whom thy cruelty sought to number w'ith the dead, 
now sits on his father's throne. The time is now come 
when the royal blood of Judah, shed by thine hand, shall 
be requited — when thy life shall justly pay the forfeit of 
thine unnatural conspiracy. 

There needs no regularity of trial. Jehoiada, the 
priest of God, the near kinsman and protector of the 
young monarch, by no undue exercise of his delegated 
authority consigns the criminal to justice. Not a sword 
is drawn in her behalf — no heart pities, no eye bewails 
her. The God of righteousness maketh inquisition for 
innocent blood. The wicked is reserved to the day of 
destruction ; suddenly doth he consume, perish, and 
come to a fearful end. 

Every thing now wears the face of tranquillity. Again 
is Judah restored to itself, after so long a deprivation. 



210 

The people scarcely believe their own eyes for joy and 
wonder. Jehoiada takes advantage, of these favorable 
impressions. He employs his influence for the public 
good. He calls upon the people to renew the covenant 
with their God at the solemn moment \vhen they vow 
allegiance to their king. Their zeal casts down the 
temples and altars of idolatry — Jehovah is the sole ob- 
ject of religious adoration — Baal is destroyed out of 
Judah as well as Israel. 



45.— HEZEKIAH AND SENNACHERIB. 

The Assyrian monarch triumphs in the palaces of 
Samaria and Jezreel. The nobles of Israel are led away 
in chains, and consigned to servitude and exile. That 
once flourishing kingdom is come to a fearful end, and 
is so vanished in its dissipation that no man could ever 
afterwards say, '' This was Israel." terrible example 
of vengeance on that peculiar people whom God had 
chosen for himself out of the world! All had beheld 
their miraculous deliverances — all had witnessed their 
crimes — all shall tremble at their punishment. 

Israel is gone, Judah is scarcely in being. Who can 
behold without pity the languishing remains of the king- 
dom of David] Yet even now out of these dying em- 
bers doth God raise up a glorious light to his forlorn 
church, and blesses his people with the virtues of Heze- 
kiah. Scarcely can we imagine a state of greater misery 
than that in which Jerusalem was left at the death of 
the impious Ahaz. Hezekiah revives the hope of Judah ; 
the impiety of the father is lost in the holiness of the 



A' 

I 



HEZEKIAH AND SENNACHERIB. 211 

son; a new life, as it were, is given to the disconsolate 
remnant of the people of God. 

Now does the religious prince exert himself in the 
necessary work of public reformation. The high places 
are removed, the idols are destroyed, the groves are cut 
down, the holy temple is purified, the priests are re- 
stored to their offices, the sacrifices are duly performed, 
the order of God's service is established, the long-ne- 
glected passover is kept with due solemnity. In a word, 
all things are ordered as if David himself were alive 
again in this blessed heir to his crown and his piety. 
Judah, happy in thy king! Hezekiah, happy in the 
restoration of thy people ! For three hundred years the 
man after God's own heart had no so perfect a represen- 
tative. The devotions of the best princes of Judah were 
in some measure defective ; now the zeal of Hezekiah 
brings back the worship of God to its original purity. 
Even the brazen serpent of Moses, once the type of a 
future Savior, is broken in pieces, because the degene- 
racy of a wicked age had converted it into an idol. 

Since the heart of Hezekiah was thus upright with 
God, we cannot wonder that the Lord was with him — 
that in prosperity and in adversity he was guided and 
supported by omnipotence. 

Fourteen years does the pious king enjoy the bless- 
ings of peace ; at length he must prepare for scenes of 
a different nature. The king of Assyria comes up against 
the fenced cities of Judah and takes them. Jerusalem 
only remains, surrounded by a host of enemies, robbed 
of all its wealth by the former exactions of Sennacherib, 
helpless, friendless, comfortless, looking forward to the 
utmost extremity of hostile fury. 

The captains of the Assyrian army demand a confer- 
ence. What blasphemies, O God, doth the insolent Rab- 
shakeh utter against thee! How doth he insult thine 
anointed servant ! How doth he tempt thy people with 



212 hall's scripture history. 

base offers of advantage ! Above all, how daringly doth 
he profane thy holy name, and plead thine own commis- 
sion, to bereave them of their last, their dearest, their 
only hope! "Am I now come up without the Lord 
against this place to destroy it 1 The Lord said to me. 
Go up against this laiid^ and destroy it.'''' 

In vain does Eliakim implore the haughty Eabshakeh 
to make use of a language unknown to the people. That 
tongue is best suited to his purpose which may do the 
most extensive mischief. The humble request of Heze- 
kiah's princes serves only to increase the insolence of 
the blasphemer. In accents familiar to the assembled 
multitude, he terrifies them with the mighty power of 
Sennacherib — he debases the force of Hezekiah — he al- 
lures them with brilliant promises — he discourages them 
with the impossibility of their deliverance — he sets be- 
fore them the example of greater nations, vanquished by 
that sword which now was brandished over their heads. 
" Where are the gods of Hamath, and of Arpad V 

Not a word is uttered from the walls of Jerusalem. 
All is hushed in silence. The injurious blasphemies of 
Rabshakeh meet with the reception they deserve from 
the faithful people of God. The boaster returns, exas- 
perated at this contemptuous treatment, and denouncing 
the utmost extremity of vengeance. 

Meanwhile the king of Judah has recourse to the Lord, 
and to his prophet. He sends his princes to Isaiah — he 
betakes himself to the house of prayer. Under that sacred 
roof, clothed in sackcloth, he pours out his complaint to 
the Almighty, he laments the indignities offered to his 
God. There, there is the refuge of all faithful hearts in 
the time of adversity. Isaiah sends a message to the king, 
which shall dry up his tears and turn his sorrow into joy. 
While Sennacherib is in the height of his triumphs, the 
prophet foresees his ruin, and while the tyrant thinks on- 
ly of life and victory, passes on him the sentence of death. 



IIEZEKIAir AND SENN-ACHERI3. 213 

The army of the king of Ethiopia claims the immedi- 
ate attention of the proud Assyrian. He raises the siege 
of Libnah, and thinks to terrify Hezekiah by reiterated 
threats, and yet more daring blasphemies. Again does 
the holy prophet send to Hezekiah a message of com- 
fort — again does he announce the approaching fall of 
Sennacherib. He declares that the arm of God shall be 
miraculously exerted for his people — that the earth shall 
bring forth spontaneous fruits — that peace and prospe- 
rity shall return to the land of Judah. 

'' Behold, the name of the Lord cometh from far, burn- 
ing with his anger, and ,the burden thereof is heavy. 
His lips are full of indignation, and his tongue as a de- 
vouring fire — and the Lord shall cause his glorious voice 
to be heard, and shall show the lighting down of his arm, 
with the indignation of his anger, and with the flame of 
a devouring fire, and with scattering, and tempest, and 
hailstones. For through the voice of the Lord shall the 
Assyrian be beaten down which smote with a rod !" 

Thus spake the prophet. The angel of the Lord went 
forth, and smote in the camp of Assj'ria an hundred and 
fourscore and five thousand — and when the morninof 
dawned, behold, they were all dead corpses. Thy crime, 
O Sennacherib, was enormous — thy punishment was 
terrible. Whom hast thou reproached and blasphemed 1 
and against whom hast thou exalted thy voice and lift- 
ed up thine eyes on highl even against the Holy One 
of Israel — His almighty arm has cut off thy legions — ■ 
take heed lest he spare not thee. Go now, and tell of the 
gods of Hamath, and of Arpad, of Sepharvaim, of Henah, 
and Ivah! Assert that the God of Judah is as one of 
these. Go and add this Deity to the number of thy con- 
quests, and say that the God of Hezekiah, in whom he 
trusted, hath deceived him and graced thy triumphs ! 

How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war 
made trophies of Divine justice ! How speedy, how mi- 



2U 

raculous is this execution ! No human arm shall have 
the glory of such a victory. 

With shame and grief is the disappointed tyrant re- 
turned to Nineveh, leaving behind him the pride and 
strength of Assyria on the fields of death. Vengeance 
waits for him at home, and welcomes him to his palace. 
While he is performing his idolatrous worship in the 
temple of Nisroch, two of his own sons become his mur- 
derers. And he who had spurned all laws Divine and 
human, is reserved for the torment of this unnatural 
stroke, directed by the sacrilegious hands of his wretch- 
ed and ill-taught children. 

Thou art avenged, God, thou art avenged of thine 
enemies. Whosoever strives with thee, meets with de- 
feat, and shame, and destruction. The Assyrians are 
cut off, Rabshakeh (no doubt) among their number — 
Sennacherib is punished for his blasphemies — Jerusa- 
lem is rescued — Hezekiah rejoices — the nations wonder, 
and tremble. O love the Lord, all ye his saints : for the 
Lord preserveth them that are faithful, and plenteously 
rewardeth the proud doer. 



46.— HEZEKIAH AND ISAIAH. 

O God, how dost thou correct them whom thou lov- 
est ! Who was so dear to thee in the throne of Judah as 
Hezekiah 1 Who so devoted to thy service! Yet, be- 
hold, he is no sooner relieved from a miserable siege, 
than he pants under a grievous sickness. While as j'et 
he has no child to succeed him, the prophet Isaiah is 
sent to him with heavy tidings. "Set thine house in or- 
der — for thou shalt die, and not live." It is no small to- 



HEZEKIAII A.\D ISAIAH. 215 

ken of God's mercy, when he gives us warning of our 
end. We shall not profit by the gracious admonition if 
we make not preparation for our departure. They who 
have not a house, have yet a soul — no soul can without 
danger come unprepared before the all-righteous Judge. 
The neglect of this case is desperate. Set thy soul in 
order, man, for thou shalt die, and not live. 

Never till now was the word of Isaiah otherwise than 
welcome. Often had he been an ambassador of peace 
and deliverance — with equal fidelity he discharges the 
duties of his office when God calls on him to deliver a 
message of death. The j)ious king receives it with 
meekness and reverence — he utters no menace against 
the prophet — he betakes himself to heaven with lamen- 
tations and prayers — " I beseech thee, O Lord, remem- 
ber how I have walked before thee in truth and with a 
perfect heart !" Couldst thou fear, Hezekiah, that 
God had forgotten thine integrity 1 Dost thou doubt 
his remembrance of thy virtues, because he summons 
thee to glory and immortality] What is the object of 
thy mournful supplications 1 Thy royal ancestor haih 
given language to thy thoughts — '^ let me live, and I 
shall praise thee, O God." From a natural man this 
wish might be expected — who cannot but wonder at it 
in a saint 1 His happiness begins when his life ceaseth 
— his misery ends when his earthly pilgrimage is over. 
He might be supposed therefore desirous to depart and 
be with God — ready to exclaim in all the fervor of de- 
vout affection, " let me die^ that I may enjoy thee !" 
Why then is Hezekiah appalled with the news of that 
death which even Pagans have welcomed 1 Certainly 
the best of men is not divested of human infirmity. As 
long as we remain in the body, we retain those feelings 
implanted in our nature — a love of life — a degree of 
terror at the thoughts of dissolution. But the mind of 
Hezekiah was not uninfluenced by nobler motives — he 



216 

regarded the prosperity of that church which he had 
restored from its ruins — he saw how much its safety 
would be endangered by his departure. His very tears 
said, ^' God, thou knowest the eyes of the world are 
fastened on me, as one that hath abandoned idolatry 
and revived thy holy worship. I stand alone, in the 
midst of a wicked and faithless generation. If they see 
me cut off in the midst of my days, will not the heathen 
blaspheme! will they not triumph in my untimely ex- 
tinction 1 Alas, what will become of thy church, to 
which my zealous services have been devoted! How 
soon will it be overgrown with superstition and hea- 
thenism! Lord, if thou callest me to thyself, have 
mercy on this thy vineyard. Let not the boar out of 
the wood root it up, let not the wild beast of the field 
devour it." 

Not a word of Hezekiah is uttered or a tear shed in 
vain. The king of Assyria came up to destroy his city 
and people — prayers and tears send him away in con- 
fusion. A more resistless tyrant came, not without au- 
thority, to bind him in chains of iron — prayers and tears 
take the spoil out of the hand of the mighty. Before 
Isaiah was gone out into the middle court, the Lord of 
life and death speaks to him from heaven, '^ Turn again, 
and tell Hezekiah the captain of my people, Thus saith 
the Lord, the God of David thy father — / have heard 
ihy prayer — / have seen thy iears — behold^ I will heal 
iheer 

And hast thou then, O God, so soon changed thy 
purpose 1 Was it not thine own message which thy 
prophet delivered to Hezekiah! If thou hadst designs 
of mercy and favor, why didst thou suffer him to say, 
" Thou shalt die, and not live !" 

God is not a man, that he should repent — the mes- 
sage is changed; the Divine power and will are un- 
chanfyeable. In the first instance, the king of Judali 



HEZEKIAH AND ISAIAH. 217 

was told what he had to expect from the nature of his 
disease — afterwards he was made acquainted with the 
success of his own fervent importunity. '' Yet forty 
days and Nineveh shall be overthrown" left space for 
repentance and pardon to its inhabitants. He who said, 
" Thou shalt die," can yet listen to the ardor of de- 
votion which implored a longer life. 

How w^onderful is the goodness of heaven! While 
the tears of Hezekiah are yet streaming down his 
cheeks, while the prayer is scarcely spoken by his lips, 
God sends an answer of peace. He will not suffer his 
faithful servant to languish, even for an hour, in ex- 
pectation of the threatened stroke. He has seen his 
ways and will heal him — within three days his feet 
shall stand in the courts of the house of the Lord — he 
who now weeps on the bed of sickness, shall sing a 
song of joy and thanksgiving in the temple. O thou 
that hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh come ! 
With what cheerful hope should we approach that 
throne of grace, where never any petition is rejected, 
unless for the highest ultimate good !. Lord, our best 
state is a state of uncertainty — thy wisdom hath judged 
it inexpedient for us to know the appointed period of 
our existence. Teach us therefore, O God of mercies, 
so to number our days that we may apply our hearts 
to thy heavenly wisdom ! 

The loving-kindness of God towards his servant* ends 
not here. Hezekiah shall be blessed not only with 
health but peace. The proud Assyrian (not yet fallen a 
sacrifice to the ambition of his children) threatens 
another invasion. His late discomfiture rankles in his 
breast, and urges him to revenge — but the God of 
heaven maintains his own cause. " I will deliver thee 
and this city out of the hand of the king of Assyria — I 
will defend this city for mine own sake, and for my ser- 
vant David's sake." For healthy under the infinite good- 

.«=5cript. Hist. 10 



218 hall's scripture history. 

ness of God, Hezekiah is indebted to his prayers — for 
peaccy lo the precious memory of his royal ancestor. 
To tlie man after his own heart had God pledged him- 
self by a gracious promise — the word standeth sure — 
the Almighty fails not to remember his ancient mer- 
cies. The piety of David shall be a light to lighten the 
unborn — shall entail a blessing on future generations. 

The sudden contradiction of the message causes a 
just difficulty in the assent — Hezekiah demands a sign, 
not because he distrusts, but that he may trust the 
more. "Lord, we believe, help thou our unbelief!" 

The languishing monarch has his option. His father 
Ahaz was offered a sign, and refused it — Hezekiah asks 
a sign, and obtains it — " Shall the shadow go forward 
ten degrees, or back ten degrees 1" As if heaven lay 
open to his choice, as if time itself were ready either 
to advance or retire for his confirmation ; as if the 
laws of universal nature were in subjection to the failh 
of the servants of God. 

Hezekiah fixes on that sign which is most difficult, 
most widely removed from the course of probability. 
The going back of the shadow was a convincing proof 
of that mighty power, the exertion of which was ne- 
cessary to bring back the departing spirit of the king 
of Judah. " Nay, but let the shadow return back ten 
degrees !" 

Shall we more wonder at the love of God towards 
Hezekiah, or the mighty faith of his prophet 1 " Isaiah 
cried unto the Lord — and the Lord brought the shadow 
ten degrees backward, by which it had gone down in 
the dial of Ahaz." No wonder the Chaldean sages re- 
paired eagerly to Jerusalem to investigate so striking 
a prodigy. Whether the day was supernaturally length- 
ened, or whether the miracle were local on the sundial 
of Ahaz, the proof of Divine omnipotence was the same. 
The life of Hezekiah was hastening towards the night 



JOSIAH. 219 

of death — the voice of God recalls it. O Lord, thou 
wilt rather alter the course of heaven and earth, than 
suffer the faith of thy children to sink for want of thine 
assistance. 

Now does the king of Israel repair with joy to the 
temple of God — now does he ofl^er the sacrifice of 
grateful thanksgiving in the house where his honor 
dwelleth. *'I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live, 
I will sing praise unto my God while I have my being." 



47.--JOSIAH. 

Now is the throne of Judah, for the last time, the 
seat of purity and justice — now does that light once 
more shine, so soon to be succeeded by the deepest 
obscurity. The crimes of Manasseh and of his short- 
lived son have already cancelled all those lessons of 
piety which the precepts and the example of Hezokiah 
enforced for a time on the inhabitants of Jerusalem. 
All seems desperate — the Divine vengeance is advanc- 
ing with hasty steps to inflict the threatened destruc- 
tion — when the blow is for a while arrested by the 
piety of young Josiah. 

Experience has in general demonstrated that the 
cares of government demand the utmost vigor of 
mental faculties in the ruler, and all those advantages 
which maturity of age and perfection of reason can 
bestow. " Wo unto thee, O land, whose king is a 
child !" Yet in the case of Josiah we find that God 
knows how to deviate from the ordinary course of his 
dispensations. There are instances in which a virtuous 
heart confers as much distinction on its possessor as 



220 hall's scripture history. 

he can derive from the hoary head, that crown of glory. 
There have been illustrious characters, who, having 
lived a short time, fulfilled a long time — who proved to 
an admiring world that wisdom is as grey hairs unto 
men, and unspotted life as old age. 

Even the minority of Josiah was not idle. No sooner 
was his heart capable of reflection, than he applied him- 
self to seek after God — the first acts of his royal au- 
thority showed that he sought him not in vain. Exam- 
ples are the best rules for the inexperienced — the king 
of Judah sets before him his royal ancestor David as the 
object of imitation. The word of truth is a lamp unto 
his feet and a light unto his paths — with his whole 
heart he seeks the Lord God of his fathers. The testi- 
monies of Jehovah are his delight and his counsellors. 

The good principles with which the pious king had 
stored his mind are early reduced to practice. 

His dearest care is to purify Judah and Jerusalem from 
the impurities with which they abounded — the high 
places, the groves, the images, the altars of Manasseh 
and Amon, all are done away. Nothing is left unac- 
complished which can show the pious king's detesta- 
tion of idolatry. 

No sooner is this important reformation eflfected than 
Josiah turns his thoughts to the restoration of the house 
of God. Many times had this venerable structure been 
made to suffer, through the rage of foreign invaders or 
the careless impiety of sacrilegious princes. How did 
the ruinous state of the hallowed pile bear witness to 
the past calamities and transgressions of Judah, when, 
m the true spirit of his father David, Josiah made pro- 
clamation for the repairing of the temple ! 

The freewill offerings of zealous piety are joyfully 
contributed — the high priest himself is delegated by 
Josiah to direct and superintend the execution of a work 
in which the welfare of religion is so deeply interested. 



JosiAii. 221 

Never does the God of heaven withhold his blessing 
from the devout endeavors of his faithful servants. While 
the high priest Hilkiah was diligently restoring the tem- 
ple to its state of perfection, he finds the book of the 
law of Moses. That authentic and original record was, 
by especial command of the great Legislator, appointed 
to be carefully kept within a safe shrine in the sanctuary. 
Some faithful priest, in the depraved times of idolatry, 
had removed the precious volume to a place of greater 
security — had withdrawn it from the eye of curiosity, 
from the hand of sacrilege j studious to preserve that 
ancient monument of Divine goodness from the fury of 
impious profanation. Some transcripts were doubtless 
extant — Josiah could not be unacquainted v/ith the law 
of his God — but the whole body of these awful records, 
since the recent night of confusion, idolatry, and perse- 
cution, saw not the light till now. Hilkiah finds the 
long-lost treasure and transmits it to his royal master. 

Josiah hears with grief and consternation those dread- 
ful threatenings of judgment which the voice of Heaven 
denounced against idolatry. Guiltless himself, he yet 
trembled for his Judah — he rends his clothes, in fear- 
ful expectation of some national calamity. His eyes 
gush out with tears because men keep not the law of 
God. 

But the sorrow of the pious youth loses not itself in 
inaction — he sends to inquire of the Lord for himself, 
for his people. Whence, Josiah, is this deep perplex- 
ity ! If thy fathers were idolatrous, hast thou not aban- 
doned their sins 1 If thy people were once guiltj', have 
they not expiated their crime by repentance 1 Are not 
all abuses carefully reformed ] What mean these tears, 
this earnest solicitude 1 Too well does thy fear antici- 
pate the message which the prophetess is commissioned 
to send thee. " Go, tell the man that sent you, Thus 
saith the Lord — Behold, I ivill bring evil upon this place. 



222 hall's scripture history. 

Evil awaits the guilty Jerusalem — all the vengeance 
foretold shall be accomplished. A moment's respite is 
granted in consideration of thy pious fidelity — but the 
measure of public iniquity is full — the predicted ruin 
must shortly take its course. It is enough for thee that 
thou shalt sleep in the tomb before the storm take place 
— thine eye shall not see what thy people shall feel — 
Judah shall become a curse, and Sion a desolation — but 
thine heart shall only suffer from the expectation of evil. 
The humility and devotion of Josiah has exempted 
himself horn vengeance — he leaves no expedient untried 
to procure the deliverance of his people. He causes 
those awful words which had made such an impression 
on his own heart, to be publicly and solemnly recited in 
the streets of Jerusalem. The assembly is universal. 
The priests, the prophets, the multitude are gathered 
together — the depravity has been general — the danger 
hangs over every head — the law of God shall sound 
in every ear. If the people do not imitate the piety 
of their king, they are not worthy to partake with 
him in his impunity. At all events they shall not 
want a great example to direct their national humilia- 
tion. The wise and good Josiah stands by the pillar 
of the temple (see 2 Kings, 11: 14-; and Judges, 9:6) 
and renews the solemn covenant with his God. The 
people cannot, dare not refuse to join in his devotions. 
In the midst of the horror they feel at the predictions 
of impending destruction, they will not withdraw their 
obedience from their king, and from their God. Josiah 
contents not himself with the expressions of fervent piety 
— his actions second his words. Whatever monuments 
remain of paganism are defaced by him with indigna- 
tion — no endeavor is wanting to testify his zeal for 
that name of God which had been so profaned by the 
idolatry of his people. He burns the vessels of Baal, 
and puts down his impious priests — he strews the dust 



JosiAH. 223 

of their idols in the brook Kidron — defiles Tophct, the 
scene of their abominations — takes away the horses and 
chariots dedicated to the sun — omits nothing which 
might appease the anger of God, renew the hearts of 
the people, perfect the reformation he had begun. 

Nor is this care confined to Jerusalem and the adja- 
cent cities. It extends itself to the utmost parts of his 
kingdom. Even Bethel, the unhallowed seat of Jero- 
boam's idolatry, (now once more under the dominion of 
Judah,) shall partake of his pious solicitude. Some traces 
of the ancient superstition yet remained — Josiah hast- 
ens, with earnest care, to fulfil that ancient prophecy 
which pointed him out by name as the restorer of 
true religion four centliries before his birth. " O altar, 
altar, thus saith the Lord — Behold, a child shall be born 
unto the house of David, Josiah by name — by him shall 
men's bones be burnt upon thee !" The hour is come — 
the word is accomplished. Josiah remembers with joy 
that God had so long before ordained him to the task of 
piety, and called him byname to this acceptable service. 

The prophet who foretold these events had his tomb 
in Bethel — that tomb was inscribed with some portion 
of his history. The Israelites themselves had preserved 
the monument of their own conviction. Though the 
bones of the prophet were amongst the sepulchres of 
idolaters, his epitaph preserves them from desecration. 
The lion was not suffered to tear him at his death — the 
multitude are restrained from violating his bones in his 
grave. Josiah commands them to rest in peace — he will 
not suffer those ashes to meet with indecent contempt 
or superstitious reverence. 

The false worship is removed — Josiah hastens to cele- 
brate the passover. The book of the law informed him 
of the time, the place, the circumstances of this ordi- 
nance. His zeal so carefully follows it, that, since the 
days of Samuel, the feast had never been so punctually 



224. 

celebrated. Jerusalem is the place — the fourteenth clay 
of the first month the time — the Levites are appointed 
to minister — a spotless lamb is selected — no bone of it 
is broken — the blood is sprinkled on the door-posts — 
the passover is eaten with bread unleavened — the re- 
mainder is consumed with fire. Every true Israelite par- 
ticipates with joy in the monument of past deliverance 
— the pledge of future salvation— the type of the expect- 
ed Messiah. 



48.— THE CAPTIVITY OF JUDAH. 

What cause, O God, led thee to reject thine own in- 
heritance 1 "What sin of thy people demanded this aw- 
ful display of thy justice l What but the same crime by 
which a host of angels lost their celestial thrones 1 
Pride, rebellion, apostacy, sins which set thy mercy at 
defiance and provoked the severity of thine almighty 
vengeance ! Like the backsliding Israel, the treacherous 
Judah went astray in the paths of delusion. " The peo- 
ple forsook the commandments of their God and made 
them molten images — they worshipped all the host of 
heaven — they served Baal — they caused their sons and 
their daughters to pass through the fire — they used divi- 
nation and enchantments — they sold themselves to do 
evil in the sight of the Lord, they provoked him to an- 
ger with horrible abominations." 

Nor were these the fruits of ignorance. They were 
wilful crimes — obstinate impieties — continued, notwith- 
standing the efforts of more than one religious king — 
increased, notwithstanding the reproofs, the menaces, 
the doctrines, the miraculous works of those holy pro- 
phets which God in his mercy had sent amongst them. 



THE CAPTIVITY OF JUDAH. 225 

Thy calamity is of thyself, O Judah ! What could the 
just hand of Omnipotence do less, than destroy a nation 
so incorrigibly flagitious 1 — a nation so unthankful for 
mercies, so prone to disobedience, so devoid of lasting 
repentance 1 — a nation so favored, so warned, and yet 
so shamelessly, so daringly wicked 1 

What people under heaven can deem themselves se- 
cure from danger of punishment, when Jerusalem itself 
is made a desolation 1 What church could record such 
instances of the peculiar favor of God as this, his-di- 
vorced, his faithless spouse ? It is not for us sinners of 
the Gentiles to be high-minded : let us rather fear. If 
God spared not the natural branches, we also must take 
heed lest we, through pur unfruitfulness, be cut off. 

First and chief among the authors of those horrid im- 
pieties which drew down the vengeance of heaven, was 
the cruel and execrable Manasseh. Not content with 
his personal guilt, he seduced the people of God to his 
abominations — he spared not his innocent child from the 
idolatrous fires — he shed the blood of the prophets, till 
he had filled Jerusalem with slaughter and massacre. 

The mighty God, whose name only is Jehovah, was 
not thus to be insulted with impunity. Regardless of all 
consequences to themselves, his intrepid servants thun- 
dered in the ears of this monster of impiety, '' Thus 
saith the Lord, Behold, I am bringing such evil upon Jeru- 
salem and Judah, that whosoever hears of it both his ears 
shall tingle." The sin of Manasseh had spread itself by 
its contagion among his people — the punishment shall 
be as general as the oflfence. No ear shall hear of it 
which shall not glow with astonishment and commise- 
ration. What then is that vengeance, O God, which thou 
threatenest with such a preface of horror ] " I will 
stretch over Jerusalem the line of Samaria and the plum- 
met of the house of Ahab. I will forsake the remnant 
of mine inheritance. I will deliver them into the hand of 
10* 



226 

their enemies ; and they shall become a prey and a spoil 
to all that hate them." 

Alas, what ear will not tingle, what eye will not weep, 
what heart will not be confounded at the mention of so 
dreadful a sentence 1 Can there be a more grievous 
judgment than desolation, captivity, desertion, the scorn 
of prevailing enemies ] O God, shall this befall thy Je- 
rusalem, the place which thou hast chosen to thyself, 
the glory of the earth, the darling of heaven, the lot of 
thine inheritance, the place of which thou saidst, ''Here 
shall be my rest for everV Jerusalem hath grievously 
sinned, therefore shall she be removed. There is no 
place whatever from which the Almighty will not with- 
draw his protection if the transgressions of its inhabi- 
tants demand the fatal separation. '' I would have heal- 
ed Sion, but she would not be healed : therefore have 
I forsaken mine house — I have left mine heritage — I 
have given the dearly beloved of my soul into the hand 
of her enemies." The remembrance of former happiness 
shall cause increase of sorrow — the height of past pros- 
perity, aggravation of ruin. 

While the sword of Divine indignation is thus prepar- 
ing to quit its scabbard, the transcendent merit of Josiah 
turns the curse into a blessing, and the destroying an- 
gel himself forbears to strike. 

But, alas, that religious, just, and virtuous prince is 
snatched away in the vigor of his years. The God 
whom he serves calls him unexpectedly from behold- 
ing and partaking the miseries of Judah. O how mer- 
ciful are the judgments of heaven! how blessed the por- 
tion of the children of God who are revived by death, 
united by dissolution, glorified by mortal weakness and 
infirmity ! The good Josiah is now an associate with 
saints and angels — instead of a fading and corruptible 
crown, he now enjoys an eternal. His subjects, like or- 
phans bereaved of a tender parent, give vent to their 



THE CAPTIVITY OP JITDAH. 227 

unavailing sorrow — they are aware that the light of Ju- 
dah is extinguished, and that darkness and misery await 
her. If the souls of the blessed could be capable of afflic- 
tion, the calamities of his sons, his people, his country 
would have affected Josiah even in the mansions of 
peace. 

O woful and unworthy succession to the best of kings ! 
one son is a prisoner, another a tributary, both are wick- 
ed. The people relapse into their ancient idolatry — no- 
thing now delays the execution of predicted vengeance. 
Nebuchadnezzar, like a destroying tempest, advances 
with resistless fury. The wretched Jehoiachin, newly 
seated in the throne, is seized and put in irons. The con- 
queror removes him to Babylon — his wife, his mother, 
his princes, his warriors accompany him, manacled and 
chained, to their perpetual bondage. His sorrows are 
multiplied instead of being lessened by such society. 

The first wo is past — behold, another wo cometh 
quickly. 

One branch yet remains of Josiah's miserable pro- 
geny — Mattaniah, the brother of Jehoiakim. Nebuchad- 
nezzar, changing his name to Zedekiah, sets him up in 
the tributary throne of Judah. There might he have 
continued in peaceful subjection — but he who had been 
always rebellious against God, fails in obedience to the 
king of Babylon. The prophet Jeremiah forewarns him 
of the consequences, but in vain — nothing could teach 
him but sad experience. 

Thrice had Jerusalem revolted — thrice had conspira- 
cies been formed against that powerful monarch, who in 
the midst of conquest had hitherto been forbearing. Now 
for the last time his mighty armies surround the de- 
voted city. Zedekiah, guilty and self-condemned, at- 
tempts to escape by flight — he is pursued — he is over- 
taken — he hears the tremendous decree of the conquer- 
or. His children are slaughtered ; his eyes are put out, 



228 hall's scripture history. 

having first witnessed a scene of horror which shall 
dwell on his niind for ever — he is bound in fetters of 
brass — he is carried away to Babylon, the victim of 
sorrow and despair. 

Now hath the Lord covered with a cloud the daugh- 
ter of Zion — he hath cast off her altar, he hath abhorred 
her tabernacle, he hath given up into the hand of the en- 
emy the walls of her palaces. Nebuzaradan, comman- 
der of the Babylonian armies, comes up against the 
wretched, the defenceless city, breaks down its forts, 
burns the temple of the Lord, the house of the king, 
every pleasant and magnificent edifice 5 drives the re- 
maining inhabitants into captivity; carries away the last 
spoils of the sanctuary. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the 
wonder of all ages, the excellency of greatness and glo- 
ry, how art thou become heaps of ashes, a spectacle of 
desolation, a monument of ruin ! Though later in time, 
how hast thou shared with thy sister Samaria in the bit- 
ter cup of Almighty vengeance ! Long had thy God fore- 
warned thee, '^ Though Israel play the harlot, yet let 
not Judah sin." Thou hast partaken of her iniquities, 
thou hast smarted under her doom. Both are in the 
dust, both are made a fearful example to all ages. O 
God, who shall escape thy justice if thine own Jerusa- 
lem thus perished by reason of wickedness 1 Alas, those 
goodly cedars of the temple are devoured with fire — 
those curious marbles, placed in reverential silence on 
thy holy hill, are broken down with resounding axes 
and hammers — the veil is rent — the sacred ark of God 
is violated and defaced — the altars are beaten down — 
the sanctuary, whereinto none might enter but thine 
high-priest once a year, thronged wdth insulting pagans 
— the pillars demolished — the pavements dug up — the 
very ground whereon the temple stood, desecrated and 
deformed. 

How frail, how unstable, are the most magnificent 



EZRA. 229 

works of man ! Only the temple not made with hands 
is eternal in the heavens. Thither may He graciously 
conduct us, who hath called us to his everlasting glory, 
for the sake of that merciful High Priest who entered 
once for all into that holy of holies! Amen. 



49.— EZRA. 

While Babylon was a queen, Judah was a vassal ; 
but when the oppressors fell, the people of God began 
to arise. The Babylonian monarchy is no sooner swal- 
lowed up by that of Persia, than the Hebrews feel the 
comfort of returning liberty. The iron yoke is dashed 
in pieces which had enslaved the captive Sion. Cyrus 
is at the same moment a conqueror and a deliverer. 
He sees and pities the wretchedness of the Jews ; he 
sends them, under the conduct of Zorobabel, to their 
almost forgotten country. Doubtless he was not igno- 
rant that he had been forenamed in the voice of pro- 
phecy — that he had been appointed by Heaven to this im- 
portant service almost two centuries ere he had a being. 

The first year of his monarchy is not expired be- 
fore he publishes his royal edicts throughout the 
kingdom for the restoration of Judah. He calls on all 
his subjects for their aid. More especially he enjoins 
and encourages the children of the captivity to pro- 
mote the pious work. He dismisses the Jews with 
tokens of princely liberality. Five thousand and four 
hundred vessels of gold and silver (the precious spoil 
taken by Nebuchadnezzar) are once more set apart for 
the service of the house of God in Jerusalem. How 
does thy munificence, royal Cyrus, condemn the ra- 



230 hall's SCEirTUEE HISTORY. 

pacity of those who fill their houses with sacrilegious 
plunder ! who usurp, for unhallowed purposes, the 
treasures which ancierit piety had consecrated to God! 

And was it then to the monarch of Persia alone that 
the Jews were indebted for their freedom 1 Didst not 
thou, God, in whose hands are the hearts of kings, 
stir up the spirit of this virtuous heathen to be the 
friend, the protector, the father of thy church 1 Did 
not thy providence dispose his mind to the accomplish- 
ment of thine own purpose, and teach his generous soul 
to feel for the calamities of the daughter of thy people 1 

Now do the chief of the fathers of Judah and Benja- 
min prepare for their auspicious journey ; now they 
take down their harps from the willows which grew 
near the waters of Babylon, and, unbidden^ sing the 
songs of their much-loved Sion. They arrive in safety 
at Jerusalem — Jerusalem, dear to them even in its state 
of ruin and desolation ! Their first care is a public and 
solemn sacrifice. The interruption of their devotions 
hath made the service of God still more interesting, 
still more delightful. 'With joy inexpressible they " de- 
clare the name of the Lord in Sion, and his worship in 
Jerusalem." Their prince and their high priest are 
eager to set up the altar on its basis. Before the foun- 
dations of the temple are laid, a place shall be appoint- 
ed whence the oblations of their grateful hearts might 
ascend to heaven. 

The feast of tabernacles is kept, while they are con- 
strained to abide in tents, before they had prepared 
them habitations to dwell in. This office performed, 
they devote their labors to the house of God. Artificers 
are selected, Tyrian workmen are again called for, Le- 
banon again bestows her stately cedars. The materials 
are ready — and now, while the foundation of the tem* 
pie is laying, the priests stand in their consecrated vest- 
ments, with trumpets and cymbals, singing praises to 



EZRA. 231 

the God of Israel, who had turned their captivity as the 
rivers in the south ; the people second their hymns 
with acclamations of transport, whilst the remembrance 
of past magnificence brings tears into those aged eyes 
which had beheld the former house in all its glory. If 
in that militant church, of which we are members, our 
delight is still attempered by heaviness, let us not aban- 
don our glorious hope ! A day shall come when the ser- 
vants of God will be received into their heavenly Jeru- 
salem, the high and holy city of peace, and love, and 
joy. No temple made w^ith hands shall be therein, for 
the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple 
thereof. God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; 
there shall be no more, death, neither sorrow nor cry- 
ing, neither shall there be any more pain, for the for- 
mer things shall pass away ! 

How different is this unclouded heaven from the 
tumultuous scenes of mortality ! How soon is the rap- 
ture of the Jews turned into grief and disappointment ! 
Their patience was not yet fully tried. The malicious 
suggestions of their Samaritan rivals must yet prevail 
against them for a season. Long and melancholy is the 
period during w^hich the walls of the temple lie waste 
— the city is defenceless — the children of Judah are a 
derision to their insulting enemies. Edicts of a very 
different nature from those of Cyrus are promulgated 
by his successors. The uplifted arm of authority re- 
strains the people of God. They seem only to have ex- 
changed one captivity for another. In silence and sor- 
row they cease from their labors, till the prophets 
Haggai and Zechariah rouse them from this state of 
torpid dejection, and inspire new courage into their 
disconsolate hearts. 

Darius was now seated on the throne of Persia. His 
officers come, as before, to expostulate. " Who hath 
commanded you to build this house 1" The Hebrews 



232 

wisely and modestly plead the service of the God of hea- 
ven — the decree of Cyrus — their just and undoubted 
rights in consequence of it, which subsequent edicts, if 
they could suspend, were not able to cancel. (See Dan. 
6 : 15.) The impartial governors seek not to exaspe- 
rate — they send messengers to the king, stating the fact, 
without any malicious comment — they request that 
search may be made for the decree of Cyrus — they ask 
the royal pleasure concerning its validity. Darius seeks, 
finds, ratifies, enlarges it — charges his officers to pro- 
mote, not to hinder the work — levies tribute beyond the 
river for the expenses of the building, for the service 
of the altar — threatening utter ruin to all who should 
by any means prove adverse to the cause of Jehovah. 
" The God of heaven, who hath caused his name to 
dwell there, shall punish all kings and people who shall 
put to their hand to alter and destroy this house of God 
which is at Jerusalem. I Darius have made a decree j 
let it be done with speed." 

Who would have expected such an edict from a Per- 
sian 1 No Solomon, no David could have said more, s 

In the sixth year of the reign of Darius the temple 
of God is finished : and now the dedication of it is cele- 
brated by a joyful feast — the victims smoke upon the 
consecrated altars — the priests are appointed in their 
divisions — the Levites in their courses — the children of 
the captivity esteem this day a sufficient compensation 
for all their sorrows. 

Alas, how soon does it appear that the most salutary 
instructions may be corrupted by human folly and per- 
verseness ! How soon have abuses crept into Judah, 
which call loudly for reformation! Artaxerxes hath 
learned of his father to befriend the people of God. Un- 
der his government the wise, the learned, the religious 
Ezra is sent to Jerusalem with authority to inquire into 
the wants and redress the grievances of his country- 



EZRA. 233 

men — to check the progress of national corruption — to 
ordain magistrates and judges — to promote obedience 
to the laws — to punish the contumacy of ofTcnders. 
Thus called, thus encouraged, the consecrated priest 
assembles a new colony of the Jews j and (secure in 
the protection of God) will not ask a band of soldiers 
to help him against the enemy in the way. He had told 
the king of Persia, with a courage worthy of the faith 
which inspired it, '^ The hand of our God is upon all 
them for good that seek him — but his power and his 
%vrath is against all them that forsake him." The Al- 
mighty will not suffer this holy confidence to be disap- 
pointed. All the armies of Artaxerxes could not have 
so strongly guarded the people of God as their invisi- 
ble, their omnipotent Protector. 

After a journey of four months, Ezra and his com- 
panions arrive at Jerusalem — his heart cannot but feel 
a momentary joy when he beholds the temple of Jeho- 
vah, but soon is he filled with heaviness at the recital 
of those enormities which had overspread the people. 
He comes, to find paganism in Judah — he comes, to be- 
hold a mixture of idolatrous rites polluting the service 
of God — while the priests and rulers, who by precept 
and example should have checked this daring impiety, 
have been chief and foremost in the trespass. 

Distracted with sorrow, Ezra sits down upon the 
ground — he rends his garments — he remains astonished 
till the time of evening sacrifice. Then, rising from his 
heaviness, he spreads out his hands unto the God of his 
fathers, professing his shame to lift his face from the 
earth — confessing the iniquities of his people, which 
were increased over their heads, and grown up to hea- 
ven — acknowledging the just hand that had followed 
them in all their judgments, and the confusion where- 
with a guilty nation were standing before an offended 
God. 



234 hall's scripture nisTORY. 

The prayers and tears of Ezra are seconded by zea- 
lous and active exertions. When evil hath prevailed, it 
is the part of wisdom not only to lament but to redress 
it. He calls on the Jews to renew their covenant with 
the Almighty — he binds them by an oath of the utmost 
solemnity that they will return to better obedience. 
Tears bespeak their contrition — vows, uttered from the 
heart, proclaim them eager to bring forth fruits of re- 
pentance. " Yet is there hope in Israel concerning this 
thing. Now therefore let us make a covenant with our 
God ! Arise, for this matter belongeth to thee — we will 
also be with thee. Arise, be of good courage, and do 
it." If they have done iniquity, they will do no more — 
if other lords have had dominion over them, henceforth 
they will only make mention of the name of Jehovah. 

O happy endeavors of the devout and faithful Ezra, 
which have thus restored Jerusalem to herself and to 
her heavenly King ! God is not unrighteous, that he 
should forget the blessed work, the labor of love. It 
shall be had in everlasting remembrance — it shall be 
proclaimed in that awful day when they who are wise 
will shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they 
who turn many to righteousness ^ as the stars for ever 
and ever. 



50— NEHEMIAH 



Thirteen years were expired since Ezra went up to 
Jerusalem. During that period of time the holy man 
had diligently availed himself of the commission granted 
him by the king of Persia. He had re-established the 



NEHEMIAH. 235 

purity of religious worship — he had introduced a gene- 
ral reformation among the people — he had set in order 
the services of the newly-consecrated temple. But, alas, 
much remained unfinished which regarded the welfare 
and prosperity of Jerusalem. The walls lay waste — the 
city was ruinous — the house of God exposed to every 
danger which might be feared from the secret treachery 
or open hostility of their evil neighbors. Ezra sees all 
this, and laments that he is unable to do all that is 
necessary. But the Lord will not cast off his people, 
neither will he forsake his inheritance. 

Hanani, a faithful servant of God, prompted by his 
own zeal and probably encouraged by Ezra, departs 
from Jerusalem to the court of Artaxerxes, to implore 
assistance for his desponding countrymen. He repairs 
to his brother Nehemiah, and with all the eloquence of 
impassioned grief tells him that the people are in afflic- 
tion and reproach — that the fortresses are broken down — 
that the gates are in the same ruinous condition to which 
the fury of Nebuchadnezzar had reduced them. 

Nehemiah was at peace in the court of Persia, be- 
loved and distinguished by his sovereign. He was in 
possession of all that the world holds dear or desirable. 
Why should his happiness be affected by the danger of 
Jerusalem 1 If those remote walls are on heaps, he is in 
the palace of Susa. If his far-distant countrymen are 
despised, he is held in honorable estimation by the mon- 
arch of the world ! But the private felicity of a good 
man is lost in the public distress. When the head suf- 
fers, all the members suffer with it. 

Nehemiah had once indulged the hope that the gra- 
cious edict of Darius, and the royal benevolence which 
had been extended by his successor to Jerusalem, would 
have advanced its strength and glory. Now, when he 
hears that the holy city is still in confusion, despised 
of men, and, as it were, forsaken by God, he fasts and 



236 hall's scripture history. 

mourns, and implores the mercy of heaven. How many- 
inhabitants of Jerusalem actually beheld those ruins 
with dry eyes, or at best were affected with a fruitless 
sorrow ! Nehemiah hears of them afar off, and weeps j 
he resolves to devote his life to the service of his coun- 
try. That grief is useless which centres in itself, and is 
not joined with active endeavors for redress. 

He determines to throve himself at the feet of his 
generous master and make intercession for Jerusalem, 
but he will first have recourse to his God. He knew 
that the hearts of earthly kings are under the guidance 
of the King of heaven ; he was not ignorant of the effi- 
cacy of fervent prayer. In all our undertakings, if we 
seek not the blessing of the Almighty, it is in vain to 
hope for permanent success. 

Thus armed, thus prepared, Nehemiah approaches his 
royal master. The king beholds him overwhelmed with 
sorrow — sorrow which he neither attempts nor wishes 
to conceal. His distress 'was visible in his features, and 
could not fail of exciting the curiosity and compassion 
of his lord. He expected this ; and his hope is not frus- 
trated. '' Why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou art 
not sick ] This is nothing else but sorrow of heart." 
And is a heathen master so gracious! is he so tender 
toward his servant's grief] O thou Father of mercies 
and God of all comfort, with wliat confidence should 
the troubled spirit, the soul in anguish, betake itself to 
thee % With what compassion doth thine eye behold 
our miseries! how is thine ear attentive to all our 
complaints ! 

Nehemiah dares not open his mouth to the king till 
his heart has addressed a sudden ejaculation to God. 
No business can be so urgent that it may not thus be 
consecrated to heaven. The prayer of faith ascends 
(even from the inmost soul) with rapid wings to the 
throne of mercy. It can solicit God, and bring down an 



NEHEMIAH. 237 

answer of peace, before a word is uttered by our lips. 
How can we expect a blessing, which we are either too 
proud or too careless to ask 1 

" Let the king live for ever ! Why should not my 
countenance be sad when the city, the place of my fa- 
thers' sepulchres, lieth waste, and the gates thereof are 
burnt with fire V With an humble preface doth Nehe- 
miah interest the feelings of the king before he utters 
his request. The generous Artaxerxes listens with be- 
nignity to his servant, and cannot but commend the zeal 
he testifies for his country. He encourages him to speak ; 
his petition is granted ere it can be uttered. Nehemiah 
first asks permission for-liis journey, and next, the royal 
assistance in the prosecution of his laudable designs. 
Both are readily granted ; and he departs with joy 
and hope. 

The proud and insolent adversaries of Judah are cut 
to the heart at the arrival of a man thus qualified, thus 
empowered to seek and to promote the welfare of Je- 
rusalem. There can be no greater torture to wicked 
minds, than to behold the prosperity of God's people. 
They need no other tormentor than that which at such 
a moment lurks in their own bosoms. 

Nehemiah soon perceives that the service in which 
he is engaged is full of difficulty and danger. He sees 
that all his prudence and all his courage must be called 
forth to avert the threatened evils. He rises in the 
night and secretly views the decayed walls of Jeru- 
salem — the ruined gates — the ravages of the trium- 
phant heathen. Yet even now does he anticipate in his 
mind that complete restitution of the city of God 
which her friends dared not hope, which not even her 
.jealous and vigilant enemies suspected, or feared. 
Having fully digested this great work in his own mind, 
he assembles the rulers of the congregation — he con- 
doles with them on account of the common distress 



238 hall's scripture history. 

and reproach j but tells them of the hand of his God 
which was good upon him. The people behold him 
with ecstasies of joy, as one sent from heaven for their 
support and comfort. With hopes to which their souls 
had long been strangers, they cry out in transports of 
zeal, " Let us rise up and build." No man is idle — no 
part is intermitted — every Israelite knows his station. 
All Jerusalem is at once encompassed with busy labor- 
ers. What greater success can be expected than from 
the joint endeavors of faithful hearts united under the 
protection of Godi 

At the commencement of the work the adversaries of 
Judah are full of scorn — its rapid progress converts 
their derision into rage. The Moabites, Ammonites, 
Arabians conspire against the holy city, and, ere the 
battlements are set up, seek to demolish those envied 
ramparts. Wherein hath Sion offended 1 Was it crimi- 
nal to seek the means of security 1 Was there any 
danger that the Jews would rebel against Artaxerxes, 
or carry on offensive war against the neighboring 
states 1 Had it been so, there might appear some pre- 
tence for this hostile disposition — but, alas, how could 
the feeble remnant of an afflicted and persecuted nation 
be formidable 1 Jerusalem only endeavors not to be 
miserable — and lo, the heathen rage, and the people 
imagine a vain thing. The enemies stand up, the Gen- 
tiles take counsel together against the children of God. 

Meanwhile, how do Nehemiah and the Jews consult 
their common safety 1 They pray to God — they watch 
against their assailants. The adversaries of our salva- 
tion are furious if the contrite heart endeavors to se- 
cure itself against their assaults — but we know how to 
prevail against those spiritual wickednesses which war 
against our souls. No evil can surprise us if we watchy 
no evil can hurt us if we pray. 

The enemy was subtle and malicious : " They shall 



NEHEMIAH. 239 

neither know nor see till we come in the midst of them 
and slay them." Open force is not so dangerous as 
secret dissimulation. They would seem Jews while 
they were Moabites and Ammonites, and would come 
under the disguise of brethren for purposes of murder. 

Nehemiah, aware of the impending danger, calls to- 
gether the faithful people of God — bids them remember 
the Lord, who is great and terrible, and fight for their 
brethren, their sons and their daughters, their wives 
and their houses. Motives like these cannot fail of in- 
spiring courage — cannot but animate the weakest heart. 
Nothing can excite the militant soul to stand fast in the 
day of adversity so mufch as the remembrance of that 
infinite power and wisdom which can either avert, or 
mitigate, or sanctify it. 

The task is now divided: each zealous Hebrew is a 
workman and a soldier. What an image is here of that 
church where every one labors invested with chris- 
tian armor — where every one so works that he is 
ready to ward off all assailants — where diligence is not 
hazardous, nor valor fruitless ! 

But what can weapons avail if there are no means to 
warn us against an enemy 1 Without a trumpet we are 
armed in vain. The work is large, and we are sepa- 
rated one from another — only the sacred trumpet of 
God calls us to associate for our mutual preservation. 
Wo b« to the watchman, if the sound he gives be 
uncertain ! Wo be to the people, if when they hear 
the sound they resort not to the signal ! United forces 
may prosper — single opposition is desperate. All hands 
and hearts must meet together in the cause of truth 
and of God. 

Discovered stratagems are already in a great mea- 
sure prevented. The adversaries of Jerusalem hear 
that the city hath warning. They relinquish their exc 
crablc purpose — they depart in shame and confusion. 



240 hall's scripture history. 

Nehemiah, delivered from the impending danger, 
completes the fortifications of the holy city. No long- 
er is she a reproach to the nations of the earth. All is 
accomplished which can tend to the peace, the welfare, 
the dignity, the security of Sion. And now, what re- 
ward shall be given to the deliverer of his country! 
What bright recompense shall crown his assiduous la- 
bors! He needs, he seeks, he will accept no other 
than is afforded by the conscious feelings of his heart. 
He calls upon his God to think on him for good — to 
keep in memory what he hath done for his brethren. 

Blessed are they that always keep judgment and do 
righteousness ! They shall be thine, O Lord, in that day 
when thou makest up thy jewels. Thou shalt remem- 
ber them with thy peculiar favor — thou shalt visit them 
with thy salvation. They shall see the felicity of thy 
chosen — they shall rejoice in the gladness of thy peo- 
ple — they shall give thanks with thine inheritance. 



51.— ESTHER. 

What bounds can be assigned to human ambition 1 
Ahasuerus, king of Persia, whose empire was extended 
to the most distant regions of the globe, prepares to add 
yet other provinces to his conquests. He cannot hope 
to see the land he now possesses, and yet he cannot rest 
while he hears of more. How small a portion of earth 
is sufficient for the mighty dead, whom, while living, a 
whole world could scarcely satisfy 1 How vain and fri- 
volous is that happiness which depends on popular ap- 
plause — on the exaggeration of those titles which are 
very far from conducing to real glory 1 Nothing can 



ESTHER. 241 

properly fill the heart of man but He who made it. 

Ahasuerus, by way of triumph for his past victories, 
and with a view of animating his princes and soldiers 
to future exploits, makes a feast, like himself, princely 
and magnificent. For six whole months the people, the 
nations and the languages resort to Susa. The spa- 
cious court of the palace is turned into a royal hall — • 
the walls are of rich hangings — the pillars of marble — 
the couches enriched with silver — the pavement of por- 
phyry — the vessels of the purest gold. 

Amidst all this princely magnificence, in the height 
of his ostentation and <?lory, the lord of Asia finds him- 
self despised and set at nought by a capricious woman. 
The scorn and disobedience of his queen, so publicly 
demonstrated to the world, at once eclipses all his 
magnificence, fills that heart with sorrow which had 
expected nothing but joy, and puts the king of so many 
kings to shame before those very nobles whom he meant 
to send away astonished at his power and majesty. 

The Jews were only partially returned to the land of 
their captivity ; many of that wretched people were yet 
in the dominions of Ahasuerus — all were under the scep- 
tre of his power. Lo, the mercy of God causes light to 
arise in the midst of darkness, to cheer the hearts of a 
repentant and afflicted nation. The pious and faithful 
Esther is called on to share the throne of Ahasuerus, ia 
place of the repudiated Vashti. It was happy for this 
orphan that, in the land of her captivity, the tenderness 
of Mordecai had fulfilled all those duties which the 
early death of her parents forbade them to discharge. 
Above all things, he impressed upon lier young mind 
those religions sentiments which preserved her con- 
stancy unshaken amidst the severest trials — taught her, 
in an idolatrous city, to worship the God of Israel — 
taught her, while in the splendid palace of Susa, to 
think with the fondest afl^ection on Jerusalem. 

Script. Hirt. 1 1 



She prays, she meditates in secret — for Mordecai, on 
her advancement to the royal dignity, enjoined her to 
conceal for a season the circumstances of her birth. Her 
unparalleled beauty had raised her to the throne — he 
feared lest (while her honors were yet unsettled) the 
mention of her captivity might expose her to unmerited 
contempt ; he looked forward to the time when her vir- 
tues should endear her to every heart ; when her name 
should dignify her nation, and take away the reproach 
from the people of God. 

The office of jMordecal led him to daily attendance at 
the palace of Ahasuerus — his piety and religion taught 
him faithfulness in his service. Two of the king's cham- 
berlains conspire against the life of their lord. Morde- 
cai discovers the meditated treason, and reveals it at 
once to Esther. With what joy does the queen avail 
herself of this opportunity to commend in public the 
fidelity of one whom she secretly loved and honored ! 
She imparts the discovery to the king in the name of 
Mordecai ; the circumstances are examined ; the plot is 
discovered ; the traitors executed ; the service record- 
ed in the Persian annals. No greatness can afford a se- 
curity from malice or violence. He who ruled over mil- 
lions of men, the lord of an hundred and twenty-seven 
provinces, extending from India to Ethiopia, is in dan- 
ger of his life by the arm of an assassin. How much 
more happy is the meanest christian ! He can look for- 
ward to a crown incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth 
not away, reserved for him in the regions cf glory. No 
force, no treason can reach thither; there can be no 
peril either of violence or forfeiture. 

Without any other recompense than is afforded by 
his own conscious virtue, Mordecai returns to the du- 
ties of his office. Little did the people imagine that the 
child of his adoption was seated in the throne of Persia ; 
little did the proud Haman imagine that the man who 



ESTHEn. 



243 



refused to pay obeisance to his new-born dignity stood 
BO nearly connected with the empress of the world ! 

All the servants, all the subjects of Ahasuerus, fall 
prostrate, by the king^s command, before his minion. 
Mordecai cannot, dares not pay this forbidden homage. 
His companions charge him with disobedience, and 
spare not the language of expostulation : he is silent 
for a while ; at last he imparts thus much, in justifica- 
tion of his conduct; "Let it suffice that I am a Jew, 
and Haman an Amalekite." 

How prone are men to hate those who are deaf to 
their persuasions ! The associates of Mordecai hasten 
to inform the favorite ,that a proud and stubborn Jew 
sat among them, who scorned to bow the knee to his 
greatness. No sooner is the accusation made than the 
Agagite in a transport of fury repairs to the king's gate, 
that he might view the man who dared deny reverence 
to the greatest prince of Persia. How did his eyes 
sparkle with fury when he saw that no apprehension of 
personal danger could prevail on Mordecai to trans- 
gress the law of his God ! 

A Jew had offended Hamr\n; the whole nation must 
perish to assuage his wrath. The monarchy of the 
world was now in the hands of Ahasuerus; scarcely 
was there a Hebrew upon earth out of the reach of 
Haman's fury and his master's power. The generation 
shall die at once ; the people who had been renowned 
for so many thousand years shall fall a sacrifice, in a 
moment, to the indignant pride of Haman. Perhaps the 
hereditary quarrel between Israel and Amalek inflamed 
his rage and gave fresh vigor to his resentment. 

Having previously determined on the day for the in- 
tended massacre,* he repairs to Ahasuerus in a careless 

♦ It seems to have been a provideniial interference of God, thai 
the day fixed on by lot for the perpeiration of this atrocious act 



244 hall's scripture history. 

confidence of success. He demands, as if it were a tri- 
vial request, that a certain people scattered among the 
king's provinces, a people differing in laws and customs 
from the rest of mankind, a people useless and burden^ 
some, if not actually dangerous, may be exterminated 
from the face of the earth. How easy is it to suggest 
untruths when there is no man to answer! That the 
Jews were dispersed was their misery, not their choice j 
it was a circumstance which should have disarmed re- 
sentment and pleaded for pity ; often did they cry unto 
God in sorrow of heart, "Have mercy on us, O Lord^ 
and save us; our soul is full of contempt ; we are scat- 
tered among the heathen !" That they were seditious^ 
was a most unjust and cruel slander. Their laws en- 
joined obedience, and denounced vengeance against re- 
bellion. That their extinction would tend to the glory 
and welfare of Ahasuerus is a charge which Haman 
himself disproves, while in contradiction to his own as- 
sertions he offers ten thousand talents of silver to the 
royal treasury as the price of innocent blood! 

Too long had the king been enslaved to his unworthy 
favorite. Without considering the weight of these spe- 
cious arguments, he delivers to the sanguinary monster 
his royal signet. The secretaries are called — messengers 
are despatched into all the provinces — the day is ap- 
pointed on which all Jews, without regard to age or 
sex, through the whole extent of the Persian empire, 
shall be sacrificed to the wrath of Haman. 

Who shall express the tears, the lamentations, the out- 
cries of this miserable and devoted people when the 
fatal decree was promulgated 1 Above all, who shall 
attempt to paint the grief of Mordecai \ " Alas, am not 



should have been at so considerable a distance of time from the 
projfciing of it. In the period of eleven months the treachery of 
Hdraan was discovered, and the Jews were spared. 



ESTHER. 245 

I the sole cause of this general calamity 1 Could I have 
imagined that the revenge of Haman would have been 
thus dreadfully extensive! Had it terminated in my 
blood, I had died contented — now, to have brought 
death on so many thousands of innocents, what sorrow 
equals mine 1 Why did I contest with so powerful an 
enemy % Why did I not hide myself from the face of 
that proud Amalekite \ Alas, no man of Israel will live 
to curse me — mine enemies only shall record my name 
with ignominy, and say, Mordecai was the bane of his 
people! O Lord, if my presumption hath incurred thy 
displeasure, in what have thy coptive tribes offended 1 
O let it be thy just mer<;y that I should perish alone!" 

Such thoughts as these were doubtless in the breast 
of Mordecai while he walked in sackcloth before that 
palace whcreinto no mun was suffered to enter in the 
habit of a mourner. How different are the ways of God 
from those of man. That which caused exclusion from 
the court of Ahasuerus, opens ivide the portals of hea- 
ven. The sa-crifice of God is a broken spirit — a broken 
and a contrite heart, God, thou wilt. not despise. 

The public sorrow of Mordecai cannot long be con- 
cealed from Esther. Her diadem, her royal purple af- 
ford her no joy while the friend she loves and honors is 
sitting in sackcloth and ashes. With what e<?nsternation 
dose she learn the cause of his grief I How does her 
heart faint within her when she receives the charge of 
h€r kinsman to exert all her power, all her interest with 
the monarch of Persia in behalf of her afflicted people. 
Alas, whoever dares enter into the royal presence un- 
called must die — nothing but the extended sceptre can 
rescue the offender from the grave. Esther could only 
bewail, she could not hope to avert the impending cviL 

Mordecai will not be thus discouraged — thouj^h he 
mourns, he will not utterly despair. Again he addresses 
the queen in more animated language. " What, is it death 



246 hall's scripture history. 

thou fearest 1 Hast thou any thing but death to expect 
if thou avoidest the present clanger 1 Art thou not of the 
race of Israel 1 If these unalterable edicts exempt no in- 
dividual of our nation, how shalt thou escape 1 Wilt thou 
prefer certain peril to the possibility of hope 1 Away with 
this weak timidity, unworthy a believer, unworthy a 
queen. But if fear or policy withhold thine aid from thy 
people, if thou neglect the church of God, God will not 
neglect it. It shall not be in the power of tyrants to ex- 
terminate the chosen seed — the Holy One of Israel shall 
rather work miracles from heaven, than that his inherit- 
ance shall perish on earth, or that his own prophecy shall 
fail. Let me then adjure thee by that tender love which 
trained up thine orphan infancy — by those grateful sen- 
timents thou hast expressed in return — by the name of 
the God whom we adore — that thou awaken thine holy 
courage, and adventure thy life for thy people. Hath it 
not pleased the Almighty to exalt thee to that pre emi- 
nence of honor for this very purpose, that light may 
arise by thee to them that sit in darkness, that the rem- 
nant of his chosen servants may be saved by thee from 
utter destruction!" 

Mordecai has said enough — his words have inspired 
Esther with becoming intrepidity. " Go, gather the Jews 
that are present in Susa, and fast ye for me — I will fast 
likewise — and so will I go unto the king, which is not 
according to the law; and if I perish, I perish." Heroic 
thoughts befit great actions. The pious queen trusts to 
her devotions rather than her beauty. "This is the vic- 
tory that overcometh the world, even our faith." 



THE DEATH OF HAMAJf. 247 



52.— THE DEATH OF HAMAN. 

The time devoted to prayer and abstinence is expired 
— Esther, arrayed in royal apparel, meekly submitting 
herself to the will of Heaven, advances to the throne 
of Ahasuerus. In her look, in her demeanor, courage 
seems blended with diffidence. As if she said, "It is 
necessity, not disobedience, that leads me to this bold 
approach — according to thy will, O king, I live or die 
— I am prepared for either alternative." 

The unexpected presence of Esther, her beauty, her 
magnanimity at once delight her lord and excite pity 
in his breast. Love hastens to banish fear. The king 
held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his 
hand. Without this act of clemency her life had been 
forfeited. The Persian monarchs afTected to conceal 
themselves in stern retirement from the eyes of their 
subjects. It was death to solicit them uncalled. Blessed 
are they who dwell in the courts of that King of kings 
who is always more ready to hear than v.'e to pray, who 
is never inaccessible — never v/earied by our requests. 
His compassions fail not — in his presence is life — his 
mercies are renewed every morning! 

The royal suppliant is not only received with pardon, 
but cheered with words of more than common benignity. 
" What wilt thou, queen Esther, and what is thy re- 
quest \ It shall be given thee, even to the half of the 
kingdom." How is the mercy of God majnified \i\ 
times of extraordinary difficulty and danger f She who 
had trembled at the austerity of Ahasuerus, is now 
amazed at his munificence. Surely the king's heart is 
in the hands of the Lord, as the rivers of water — He 
turneth it whithersoever he will. 

The wise queen thinks it not good to make her re- 
quest too suddenly. Well aware of the importance of her 



243 hall's scripture history. 

Buit, she desires to prepare the mind of Ahasuerus for 
its reception. The Inng and Haman are called to the 
banquet. Again is Esther solicited to unfold the object 
of her wishes — again she hesitates, as fearing to speak 
— another banquet, on the ensuing day, shall give utter- 
ance to the purposes of her heart — the haughty favor- 
ite is once more invited to the royal pavilion. 

But still Mordecai is an alloy to his happiness — no 
edict of death can bow his knee — before, he looked at 
Haman as an Amalekite, now, as a persecutor. 

No doubt he had received early intelligence from 
Esther of her gracious welcome — of the extent of the 
king's promise. He has thrown ofT his sackcloth — his 
couraofe is raised to a more scornful nesflect of his inso- 
lent adversary. Honest indignation sparkles in his eyes 
and bids the proud Haman defiance. 
' Full of rage and fury, the minion returns to his palace. 
He assembles his family and friends — descants on his 
magnificence, the height of his favor, the excellency of 
his glory — " Yet all this avails me nothing, so long as I 
see ]\Iordecai the Jew sitting at the king's gate." The 
darlings of the world are strangers to perfect happiness 
— some latent sorrow shall still disturb their best en- 
joyments, and make even their prosperity miserable. 

The wife of Haman stimulates him to instant revenge 
— her impatience will not wait for the distant month 
Adar. All the council applaud her murderous design — 
'* Let a gallows be made fifty cubits high, and to-mor- 
row speak thou to the king that Mordecai may be hanged 
thereon — then go thou in merrily with the king unto the 
banquet." But God had other designs for his ajfHicted 
church, and, in the very instant of intended mischief, 
he accomplishes his purpose of mercy. He, '* who nei- 
ther slumbereth nor sleepeth," causeth sleep that night 
to depart from Ahasuerus. Either to beguile the time, 
or to employ it well, the king commands the written 



THE DEATH OF IIAMAN. 219 

chronicles ot Persia to be brought before him. The un- 
erring hand of Providence directs him to the record of 
Mordecai's past zeal — of that vigilant fidelity which 
preserved the monarch of the world from nightly assas- 
sination. 

Alarmed at the very recollection of such imminent 
danger, the king feels new gratitude arise in his bosom, 
With the anxiety of a generous mind, he demands what 
honor has been shown to Mordecai in return for his ser- 
vice j and he learns with sorrow, that the merit to which 
he was indebted for life, has been too long neglected and 
forgotten. 

The implacable Ham'an was already in the outer 
court of the palace to demnnd the head of Mordecai. He 
is commanded to approach ; and ere he can utter the 
purpose of his wicked heart, his master prevents him — 
" What shall be done to the man whom the king delight- 
eth to honor V 

Could Haman have thought that the question concern- 
ed any mortal but himself, he had not so lavishly con- 
sulted a display of such magnificence. He had already 
the power of Ahasuerus — he covets a temporary investi- 
titre of his royal dignity. The crown shall be on his 
head — the mantle of the king upon his shoulders — no 
meaner person shall attend him in his supposed great- 
ness, than one of the noblest princes — the streets of 
Susa shall witness the pomp and echo with the splendid 
proclamation, '^ Thus shall it be done to the man whom 
the king delighteth to honor !" 

Never is the heart of man so cold within him as 
when from the height of expected good it falls at once 
into evil. What were the sensations of thy breast, O Ha- 
man, when thou heardest the killing word, " Do thou this 
to Mordecai !" Hast thou but one proud enemy in the 
world, and art thou singled out to grace himl Did it 
embitter all thy happiness, that this Jew would not Ao 
11* 



250 

©"beisance to thee, and must thou bow to him 1 Must 
thou be his herald to proclaim his honor through Susal 
M'^hy dost thou not signify to thy master the purport of 
thy coming ] Why dost thou not speak of thy murder- 
ous preparations 1 

The mortified Haman retires in distraction of heart, 
and prepares for the hated service. When Mordecai 
«ees his enemy approach, he imagines himself already 
summoned to execution — when he sees the purple robe, 
he says in his heart, "Is it not enough that he kill me, 
but he must insult my last distress 1" But when he sees 
the royal crown ready to be set on his head, and marks 
the submissive gestures of Haman, and finds that no 
mockery is intended, he concludes that this proceeds 
from Esther^s intercession — he lifts up his heart with 
joy — he forms the most auspicious hope for himself and 
for his people. 

With a covered head and dejected countenance the 
Amalekite hastens home to impart his sorrows. He as- 
sembles his wife and friends — miserable comforters are 
they all! *' If Mordecai be of the seed of the Jews be- 
fore whom thou hast begun to fall, thou shalt not pre- 
vail against him, but thou shalt surely fall before him." 
Out of the mouth of Pagans, O God, hast thou ordained 
truth, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger. 
O Lord, thou art the same yesterday, and today, and for 
ever. If we be thy spiritual Israel, neither earth nor 
hell shall prevail against us — we shall surely stand, or 
surely rise, while thine enemies shall lick the dust. 

The vengeance which has hitherto slept is now 
Qwake, and prepares itself for just execution. While 
the presage of evil is scarcely uttered, its completion 
is begun. The messengers of Ahasuerus call Haman in 
haste to the fatal banquet. 

The king is now impatient for the long delaj'ed suit 
of Esther. Thrice had he pledged himself to grant her 



THE DEATH OF HAMAN. 251 

request, though it should extend to half his kingdom. 
The same wisdom which deferred the prayer, now 
brings it suddenly forward. To every thing there is a 
season — a time to keep silence and a lime to speak. 
" If I have found favor in thy sight, O king, let my 
life be given me at my petition, and my people at my 
request." Ahasuerus expected some high and difficult 
boon ; now that he hears his queen beg for /(/«?, he is 
transported with fury against her yet unknown adver- 
sary : he interrupts her speech with vehement indigna- 
tion, and as if he had heard too much already, furiously 
exclaims, "Who is he 1 Where is he, that durst pre- 
sume in his heart to do sol" 

How differently do we behold the same actions un- 
der different impressions of mind ! When Ahasuerus 
had signed the decree for the massacre of the Jews, he 
sat down carelessly to the feast with his favorite — now, 
when he hears the partner of his throne is involved in 
their danger, he can scarce contain the transports of 
his heart, while the royal suppliant, fixing her eyes on 
her hated persecutor, cries out with undaunted courage, 
" The adversary and enemy is this wicked Haman !" 

Ahasuerus rises from the unfinished banquet, hurried 
away by the tempest of his passions. The criminal sees 
his fate denounced against him in the angry looks of 
his master. His tongue falters, his lips tremble, his 
guilty heart fails him. With a meanness proportioncii 
to his former wickedness, he prostrates himself before 
the queen in agonies of despair. Even this act of sub- 
mission is misinterpreted by the enraged Ahasuerus on 
his return to the pavilion. " The wrath of the king is a 
message of death." The face of Haman is covered for 
his approaching execution. No more shall he behold 
the sun. They who had before done homage to the 
successful favorite, congratulate each other, and insult 
him on his downfall. Ahasuerus is made acquainted 



252 

with his intended malice against the faithful Mordecai* 
Haman is doomed, by a just decree, to that ignominious 
engine of death which he had prepared for the object 
of his hatred. The Jews have light, and gladness, and 
joy, and honor. The sentence against them cannot be 
reversed — its danger is seasonably prevented. Mor- 
decai succeeds to the dignity so justly forfeited by the 
impious Haman. He who sat in the gate is made next 
unto the throne. The feast of Purim is ordained for a 
perpetual memory of the deliverance of the people of 
God. 

"Behold! the wicked travaileth with mischief: he 
hath conceived sorrow and brought forth ungodliness — 
he made a pit and digged it, and is fallen himself into 
the destruction that he made for others. Wherefore 
then should he blaspheme God, while he doth say in his 
heart, " Thou wilt not require it ?" " Surely thou hast 
seen it ; for thou beholdest ungodliness and wrong — that 
thou mayest take the matter into thine hand — the poor 
committeth himself to thee j for thou art the helper of 
the friendless." 



THE 

NEW TESTAMENT. 



53.— THE ANGEL AND ZACHARIAS. 

The time of the promise draweth nigh — the Sun of 
Righteousness is ahout to arise with healing in his 
wings. Already do we see the dawn which proclaims 
the approach of day. " Comfort ye, comfort ye, my 
people, saith our God." 

'* When the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on 
the earth 1" The demand, O Savior, had a view to thy 
second advent — it was but too applicable to thy firsL 
The Jewish church was in a state of extreme corrup- 
tion when the harbinger of the glorious Gospel was 
Bent into the world. Yet, bad as it was, not only the 
priesthood but the courses of attendance continued even 
from David's time till Christ. A settled good is not 
easily defeated. Often does it remain unchanged even 
in the change of persons, and when at length it is com- 
pelled to give way, it fails not to leave memorable 
traces behind it. If David foresaw that these holy or- 
dinances would continue till the coming of the Messiah, 
how did he rejoice, how did he bless the God who 
loved Sion and declared it to be his rest for ever ! 

The services of the legal ministration were uninter- 
rupted. But, alas, how little remained of that spiritual 
life, without which the law and all its institutions were 
fruitless and imperfect! That filial obedience which 
flowed from the heart, was for the most part vanished. 
The temple yet was standing when the ministers of 



254" hall's scripture history. 

the temple delighted in sacrilege and impiety. The or- 
dinance yet remained, while hypocrisy and every spe- 
cies of guilt were arrayed in the vestments of sanctity. 

Yet never were times so desperate as not to yield 
some remnant of good. Some fruitful ears of corn are 
to be found even in the midst of famine. Zacharias 
and Elizabeth were righteous before God in a degene- 
rate age — in days of grievous depravity they walked in 
all the ordinances of God blameless. Distinguished by 
piety and exemplary virtue, while their souls were 
united in duty to heaven, as their hearts in affection to 
each other, they descended together into the vale of 
years. 

The God whom they so devoutly served thought 
proper to exercise the faith and patience of these his 
saints. "They had no child, because Elizabeth was 
barren." During the greatest part of her life the holy 
matron was childless: a circumstance always lamented 
under the Jewish dispensation, but now more particu- 
larly deplored when the people were awakened to the 
expectation of their promised Deliverer. Of parents 
thus advanced in age the herald of Christ was to be 
Ijorn — that the miraculous manner of his birth might 
excite the attention of mankind, and dispose them to 
listen to his voice when it should be heard in the wil- 
derness ; while it prepared them for that still greater 
event foretold by the prophet, "Behold, a virgin shall 
conceive, and shall bring forth a son!" 

The promise to Zacharias was made at the time of 
incense, when having put on the robe of honor, and 
being clothed with beautiful garments, he entered the 
temple. The people assembled without, sent up their 
united prayers to the throne of grace, through the in- 
tercession of him who represented " One that should 
arise after the order of Melchisedec, and not after the 
order of Aaron." While the joint prayers of priest and 



THE ANGEL AND ZACHARIAS. 255 

people were thus oflered up with the blood of sprink- 
ling-, and the sweet odors of holy incense, an angel 
suddenly appeared to Zacharias as he was ministering 
in the house of God, where these blessed spirits delight 
to resort, as a resemblance of those happy mansions 
whence they descend. 

Twice in every day the law commanded the priests 
to offer incense to Jehovah. The prayers of the chris- 
tian should ascend in like manner, with every rising and 
setting sun, to that gracious Being who maketh the 
outgoings of the morning and of the evening to praise 
him. The elevation of our hearts should be perpetual; 
but if, at least twice in the day, we present not our 
solemn addresses to our God, we declare (as far as ac- 
tions can speak) that the Gospel of Christ requires less 
scrupulous observance than the law of Moses. 

While the people are praying, the priest offers in- 
cense : the angel of the Lord comes down, to signify 
the divine acceptance of both these oblations. Long 
had God withdrawn from Judah these visions and reve- 
lations from above — now, on the approach of the Savior, 
he visits mankind with his angels before he speaks to 
them by his Son. Always do these blessed spirits en- 
camp round about us — they are equally present when 
they are invisible. But it was the will of God to dis- 
tinguish, by miraculous exertions of his power, the birth 
of him who should proclaim the Redeemer. He would 
give strength and dignity to that voice which should 
precede the coming of his ever-blessed Son ; he would 
demonstrate to the world, that the fore-runner of the 
Messiah should himself be conceived through the mi- 
raculous power of that God whose advent he announc- 
ed to mankind. 

Zacharias, who had so long lived and served in the 
presence of God, was overwhelmed with fear at the 
sight of his angel. In vain may we seek for perfection, 



256 hall's scripture histoey. 

even in the best of men. The weakness of human nature 
is overpowered by celestial glory — and man, conscious 
of having offended against his Creator, naturally trem- 
bles at a messenger from heaven. But while the holy 
priest was alarmed at the approach of his fellow-ser- 
vant, the good angel is anxious to remove his terror 
with words of comfort and encouragement — " Fear not, 
Zacharias ; thy prayer is heard." 

Often had the holy man prayed for the redemption of 
Israel ; his faith and piety are now rewarded by his 
being made, in so wonderful a manner, the father of 
one who should "go before the face of the Lord to 
prepare his ways." The priest was anxious for the wel- 
fare of the church ; and the man was blessed in his fa- 
mily. He sought first the kingdom of God and his righ- 
^ousness; and he heard of joy and gladness when the 
gift he had so long solicited for himself was added 
thereunto. The promise of a son, and such a son; that 
his birth should be the subject of general joy; that he 
should be great in the sight of the Lord ; consecrated 
to heaven ; filled with the Spirit ; beneficial to his coun- 
trymen J the immediate herald of the Prince of Peace ; 
intelligence of so stupendous a nature could not fail to 
overpower the heart with ecstasy of joy, and to take 
away that tongue with amazement, which was afterwards 
lost by incredulity. 

The extent and greatness of the promised blessing 
seem for a while to have suspended belief. Zacharias 
dwells on the difficulty, the utter improbability of the 
event foretold — the supernatural tidings astonish his 
heart, and he distrusts the power and the truth of God. 
*' Whereby shall I know this 1 for 1 am an old man, and 
my wife well stricken in years." If the natural man too 
presumptuously encroach on spiritual things, he is in 
danger of being taken captive by infidelity. We must 
be assured that God is able to do that which we cannot 



THE ANGEL AND ZACHARIAS. 257 

comprehend — we must behold with the eye of faith that 
light which cannot be viewed by mortal perception. 
How different from the conduct of Zacharias was that 
of his father Abraham, " who, against hope, believed in 
hope, that he might become the father of many nations, 
according to that which was spoken ! He staggered not 
at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong 
in the faith, giving glory to God, being ftilly persuaded 
that what he had promised he was able also to perform." 
Zacharias demands a sign — a sign is granted in punish- 
ment of his unbelief. The powers of that tongue, which, 
instead of uttering praises, expressed only doubts, are 
taken from him — and a long silence is imposed as a 
penalty for his abuse of speech. 

Zacharias tarried in the temple till the impatience of 
the people was converted into amazement — at last he 
comes forth, pale, speechless, astonishing them more 
by his presence than his delay. The multitude would 
not depart till he returned to bless them ; now he 
beckons to them, and remains silent. He gives them to 
understand by signs that God was preparing salvation 
for his church. His hand speaks what his lips cannot 
utter. But when the wonderful child was actually born, 
who had been thus miraculously promised, then the 
mouth of the father was opened, and (to show us the 
proper employment of the tongue when heaven grants 
the use of it) he spake and praised God. Faith restored 
what incredulity had taken away. And his heart having 
been prepared by silence and retirement for the recep- 
tion of celestial influences, he was filled with the Holy 
Ghost, and ascribed blessing to the Lord God of Israel, 
'* who had visited and redeemed his people." 



258 hall's scripture history. 

54.— THE ANNUNCIATION OF CHRIST. 

How is the morning-star, which precedes the perfect 
day, eclipsed by the brightness of His rising who should 
be an everlasting light to his people ! How is the sense 
of all other mercies overwhelmed by that grateful trans- 
port wherewith we contemplate the incarnation of the 
Son of God ! 

Never was the Holy Spirit so minutely accurate in 
any description as in that which concerns the appear- 
ance of the Messiah upon earth. It was fit that no cir- 
cumstance should be omitted in the narrative of that 
event whereon depend the faith and salvation of the 
world. The number of the month, the name of the an- 
gel, the place, the person to whom he was sent with 
joyful tidings, the very words of that message he was 
commissioned to reveal, all are faithfully recorded. 
From her state of darkness and sorrow the church is 
called on to behold her Redeemer coming to impart 
new life to mankind, and to enlighten the world with 
his glory. The messenger of this salvation was an arch- 
angel. Heaven rejoiced and the earth was glad when 
God spake comfort to his people. No greater honor 
could be conferred on an immortal spirit than was con- 
sequent on an embassy like this. 

"Hail, thou that art highly favored! the Lord is with 
thee; blessed art thou among women." An evil angel 
was the author of our fall — a good angel is the herald 
of our deliverance. No power but that of God could 
accomplish this work of mercy j but the inhabitants of 
heaven triumph in its completion, and increase their 
own felicity by bringing news of ours. Joyfully did 
this blessed spirit announce to the virgin the approach 
of redemption. The first preacher of the Gospel was an 
angel. How glorious the office of proclaiming salva- 
tion from sin and death ! 



THE ANNUNCIATION. 259 

Whither is the celestial messenger sent by God but 
to the obscure and despised Galilee! a region which 
the Jews themselves held in such contempt as to deem 
it excluded from the benefits and from the privileges 
of their nation — "Out of Galilee ariselh no prophet." 
Thou seest not, O Lord, as man seeth ; neither pride 
nor prejudice can stop the progress of thy mercy — 
where thou wilt bless, they cannot reverse it. To that 
country whence no prophet is said to come forth, an 
angel is commissioned to descend. In a land thus ne- 
glected, thus stigmatized, the Lord of prophets and of 
angels is conceived, and takes up his abode. It is the 
person who gives honor to the place, not the place to 
the person — the presence of God constitutes heaven — 
the incarnation of Christ causes Nazareth itself to ex- 
ceed the haughty Jerusalem in glory. 

Who shall presume to dictate to the Almighty in 
what manner he should bestow those distinctions 
which alone are of intrinsic value 1 He seeks out the 
poor, the meek, the despised, as objects of his peculiar 
favor — the cottages of Galilee are more precious in his 
sight than the palaces of Sion. Why then should we 
be enslaved by vanity and ambition, when we see their 
dearest gifts so lightly esteemed in the presence of God 1 

The angel approaches the humble virgin with salu- 
iation, not with prayer. The appearance of the angel, 
accompanied with celestial splendor and radiance, im- 
pressed her mind with awe, notwithstanding the benig- 
nity of his address. If Zacharias himself was filled with 
consternation at such a vision, we cannot imagine that 
Mary could be altogether free from astonishment and 
fear. But the troubles of holy minds do not fail to ter- 
minate in comfort. The design of the message was to 
impart joy and not terror. Anxiety disquiets the soul, 
and for the time makes it unfit to receive communica- 
tions from above. Soon are these troublesome mists 



260 hall's SCRIPTtRE HISTORY. 

of apprehension done away — the beams of heavenly 
comfort shine on her who is thus highly distinguished. 
" Fear not, Mary ; for thou hast found favor with 
God." Let those tremble who have reason to expect 
the displeasure of heaven — thy happy state calls for 
confidence, and that confidence for joy. The High and 
Lofty One who inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, 
will speak peace to thine heart and revive thine humble 
spirit. 

What can we fear if we are favored by his almighty 
power to whom all things in heaven and in earth, and 
under the earth, do obeisance 1 The dangers most 
alarming to us proceed from the temptations of the 
powers of darkness, not from the unexpected presence 
of the children of light. Yet even these assaults 
of our spiritual adversaries would be less formidable 
if we kept in view the terms of our high calling 
of God in Christ Jesus. We have not received the 
spirit of bondage unto fear, but we have received the 
spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, " Abba, Father !" 
With such exceeding great and precious promises, with 
this hope the anchor of the soul, why should we fear in 
the day of adversity 1 How can the powers of hell pre- 
vail against us while the Spirit itself beareth witness 
with our spirit that we are the children of God 1 

It was no ordinary favor that the virgin found in 
heaven. " Thou shalt conceive, and bear a Son, and 
shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall 
be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God 
shall give unto him the throne of his father David j 
and he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever, 
and of his kingdom there shall be no end." 

Awake, awake ; put on thy strength, O Sion ! pnt on 
thy beautiful garments, O city of our God ! for the Lord 
hath mercy on his people, and the days of their mourn- 
ings shall be ended. The blessing announced to the 



THE ANNUNCIATION. 261 

highly-favored Mary diffused its gracious influence on 
all the world. The honor was to her alone — the salva- 
tion unbounded and universal. The promise made by 
the angel to the mother of our Lord, is to us, to our 
children, to all that are afar oft', as well as to those that 
ore nigh. There is no regenerate soul in which thou, 
O Savior, art not formed again. Christ dwelleth in our 
hearts by faith; our bodies are the temples of the Holy 
Ghost. O God, who can partake of thee and not be 
happy? Blessed art thou, who hast thus made thy ser- 
vants blessed ! 

The blessed virgin having heard the mysterious mes- 
sage from above, inquires,'but v/ith awful reverence, as 
to the manner wherein the promise should be accom- 
plished. Her desire of information was altogether dif- 
ferent from the doubts of infidelity. Her words are 
the words of faith mingled with admiration. Not, 
" Whence, and who art thoul What kingdom is this 
whereof thou makest promise] When and where shall 
it be established r' But, taking for granted what the 
unbelieving heart would at once have rejected, she 
only insists on that which necessarily required a fur- 
ther intimation, and does not distrust, but demand. 

The angel answers in language tending to inform 
her judgment and support her faith — not such as had 
in view the solution of doubts or the mere satisfaction 
of curiosity. He refers the pious virgin to the almighty 
power of Jehovah. It is enough for us to be assured 
who is the Author of our salvation ; we are aware that 
the means whereby it was accomplished ought not to 
be too presumptuously investigated. O Lord, we are 
content to know in part, till the day of perfection shall 
come, when that which is in part shall be done away. 
Why should we seek for other elucidation where the 
subject is involved in awful obscurity 1 O let us not 
break through to gaze — let us keep it ever in our 



262 hall's scripture history. 

hearts tlial the place Avheroon we stand is holy ground. 
It is for none but the Almighty to know that which 
more immediately concerns himself. He hath taught 
his creatures all that is necessary for their salvation. 
The secret things belong to God — the things which are 
revealed, to us. 

We hear of no more interrogations on the part of the 
blessed virgin. A devout and humble heart, when it un- 
derstands the good pleasure of God, argues no more, 
but rests in quiet expectation — " Behold the handmaid 
of the Lord — be it unto me according to thy word." 
There is not a more exalted proof of our love to God 
than is sho\vn when we submit all the faculties of our 
souls to him, and follow where he is pleased to lead 
the way. When we are made acquainted wilh his holy 
word, disputes and cavils arise only from infidelity. 
Great is the mystery of godliness — God was manifest 
in the flesh. Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
sinners. O Lord, thou art faithful, thou art powerful — 
it is enough that thou hast said it. In the humility of 
our obedience we resign ourselves to thee — ''Behold 
the servants of the Lord — be it unto us according to 
thy word." 



55.— THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 

Now is the christian church arrayed in her festal gar- 
ments ; now are the high praises of God more especially 
in the mouths of his people. We contemplate mercies 
whereby light Is given to a world that sat in darkness — 
we record benefits worthy of being revealed by an 
angel and celebrated by. the assembled choir of heaven. 



THE BIRTir OF CHRIST. 263 

Cry out and shout, city of Sion, for great is the Holy 
One of Israel in the midst of thee. Unto us a Child is 
born, unto us a Son is given ; and the governnment shall 
be upon his shoulder — and his name shall be called, 
Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting 
Father, the Prince of Peace. 

No sooner had the messenger from heaven delivered 
his embassy to the mother of our Lord, than she arose 
in haste and went into the hill-country of Judea. She 
had been told by the angel of those wonders of divine 
power and mercy displayed towards the hnppy Eliza- 
beth ; whose unexpected fruitfulness, in her old age, 
was a token of other and greater miracles of omnipo- 
tence. The blessed virgin is anxious to visit her vene- 
rable friend- — nothing shall delay that meeting, which 
can only be paralleled by the felicitations of glorified 
spirits in the kingdom of God. Elizabeth, in ecstasies of 
joy, proclaims her guest to be blessed among women — 
applauds her faith — confirms her hope — declares her- 
self unworthy of a privilege so distinguished as to re- 
ceive under her roof the mother of her Lord. Mary, in 
humble but fervent gratitude, acknowledges the bounty 
of heaven ; her soul doth magnify the Lord ; her spirit 
rejoiceth in God her Savior. "Break forth into joy, 
sing together, for the Lord hath comforted his people j 
he hath redeemed Jerusalem. Let us be glad, and shout 
for joy; the winter is past; the storms of affliction are 
over and gone. Discord is vanished away and melted 
into harmony. He that is mighty hath done great things, 
and holy is his name." 

At length an edict of Augustus summons Mary to the 
city of David. The providence of God directs the pub- 
lic actions of men to the accomplishment of his sacred 
purpose. The charge was universal, to innumerable sub- 
jects through all the Roman empire. By means of this 
taxation Christ shall be born in Bethlehem. Ccesar had 



no views but for his own advantage — God meant to 
fulfil his prophecies ; and so to fulril ihem, that they 
who were most nearly concerned should read his will 
in the events themselves, not in the steps which led 
to them. 

What a testimony is borne to the Savior of mankind 
by the government and by the decree of Augustus! 
Now the whole world was at rest. All was quiet under 
the sceptre which made preparation for the Prince of 
Peace. But this sceptre was departed from Judah — 
Herod, Cyrenius, Augustus, all were aliens. It was time 
for Shiloh (Gen. 49 : 10) to come. A tribute is imposed 
upon the people of God; the very act of bondage is the 
signal of approaching liberty. At the moment when Sion 
said, '' The Lord hath forsaken me, and my God hath 
forgotten me," she is blessed by the appearance of her 
Redeemer — when she is most oppressed by foreign sove- 
reignty God sends her a King of her own, before whose 
throne Ceesar himself shall hereafter appear in humble 
subjection ! 

Whither must Joseph and Mary come to be taxed but 
to Bethlehem 1 ^1 he very place proved their descent. 
He who should succeed David in his throne must also 
succeed liim in the place of his birth. So clearly was 
Bethlehem described by the prophets as the scene where 
this great event should happen, that the very priests and 
scribes could point it out to Herod as the city wherein 
the King- of the Jews should be born. 

Hither the blessed Mary was called on by the edict 
of Augustus to repair when the time of her delivery was 
at hand. Joseph, who had been taught by God to lovo 
and honor her, was doubtless unwilling to expose her to 
so manifest a hazard ; but the charge was peremptory, 
the obedience exemplary. That God by whom kings 
reign teaches us, by example as well as precept, to pay 
allegiance to lawful authority. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 265 

The difficulties of the journey are surmounted — but 
the daughter of David finds no compassionate shelter, 
no kind reception in the city of her royal ancestor. 
Little did the inhabitants of Bethlehem imagine what 
a guest they refused. How gladly would they otherwise 
have opened their doors to him, through whose merits 
and intercession alone the kingdom of heaven will be 
opened to all believers! Now in their inhospitality they 
have their punishment. They have lost that honor and 
happiness which they might have enjoyed, and which 
would have far exceeded all earthly glories. But why 
do we reproach their ignorance, and forget our own in- 
sensibility 1 If we suffer worldly thoughts and sensual 
desires to exclude Christ from our souls, how much 
greater is our guilt, how much deeper our ingratitude ! 

O God, in what language shall we express our w^on- 
der at this humility 1 Thou, whom the heaven of hea- 
vens cannot contain, when thou wouldst visit this world 
of thine, hast not where to lay thine head. Thou, at 
whose disposal are the many mansions of thy Father's 
house, art refused admittance into the meanest cottage 
of Bethlehem. Thou xiamest to thine own, and thine 
own received thee not. Hadst thou assumed the form 
of some mighty potentate — hadst thou taken to thyself 
an abundant portion of those gifts which mortals hold 
desirable, even then thy self-abasement would have been 
worthy of our grateful adoration; but when thou art 
content to appear in the form of a servant, and when a 
manger is the scene of thine humble birth, how great, 
how unutterable is thy condescension ! Didst thou not, 
blessed Lord, didst thou not thus debase thyself to 
teach us lov»'liness of mind, to sanctify poverty, to 
quench the spirit of arrogance in our hearts, casting 
down imaginations and every high thing which exalteth 
itself against thee, and bringing into captivity every 
thought to thine obedience 1 

Script Hist. 12 



266 hall's scripture history. 

The kings of the earth are at rest, and are not sum- 
moned to attend on him to whom they owe their great- 
ness J but the Messiah is no sooner born, than the glory 
of the Lord shines with brightness inexpressible on a 
company of shepherds keeping watch by night over 
their flocks near Bethlehem. 

It was no new thing for manifestations from heaven 
to be vouchsafed to persons employed in the pastoral 
life. Among those who were thus distinguished by the 
Divine favor, we find the holy patriarch Jacob, Moses 
the legislator, and David the king of Israel. These, and 
many others, while attending on their flocks, had visions 
and revelations from the Almighty — with these he often 
deigned to hold converse in their solitudes. And now 
the welcome message of redemption is imparted by the 
ministration of angels to a band of shepherds employed 
in their peaceful and innocent occupation. Never have 
we more reason to expect a blessing from above, than 
while we are engaged in our respective callings with 
cheerful diligence, relying on the good providence of 
God. While a sacred terror took possession of the souls 
of these Israelites, a multitude of the heavenly host 
joined in the song of rapture and hailed the propitious 
arrival of the Son of God. 

How doth the Divine wisdom make choice of the 
weak to confound the mighty ! At midnight, in the 
fields, to obscure and lowly persons, the light of re- 
demption is made manifest by the choir of heaven. No 
station is so mean as to exclude us from the Divine fa- 
vor J the Lord of glory is an inmate of the humble 
soul ; he putteth down the mighty from their seat, and 
exalteth them of low degree. 

" Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace, good 
will towards men." O ye blessed angels, the church of 
God unites her praises with yours j a thankful world, at 
the feet of its Deliverer, pours forth its eflusions of joy 



THE SAGES AND THE STAR. 267 

and welcomes the hour of liberty. Our soul is escaped 
as a bird out of the snare of the fowler ; and now, in- 
stead of drooping and pining away in miserable bond- 
age, it flies on the wings of rapture, and sings its song 
of praise at the gates of heaven — celebrating a day yet 
more glorious than that whereon the morning stars first 
sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy. 

No sooner do the shepherds hear tidings of a Savior, 
than they repair with haste to Bethlehem — regardless 
of their flocks, they esteem all things as of no value 
which can detain them from that blissful sight. It is not 
possible that a faithful heart should hear of Christ and 
not desire earnestly to approach and to enjoy him. 
Where art thou to be found, O Lord, but in thine house, 
thy word, thy ordinances 1 There thou seekest for us, 
there thou callest us to thyself. let us make speed 
to find thee, and let us by faith behold the glory that is 
revealed. In thy light shall we see light — cast us not 
away from thy presence— take not thine Holy Spirit 
from us. 

" This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta- 
tion, That Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. ^^ 



56.-.THE SAGES AND THE STAR. 

The shepherds, full of joy and wonder, behold the 
Redeemer of mankind in his state of great humility — 
they depart, and publish in the adjacent country what 
they had seen and heard. Their narrative occasions a 
temporary amazement — but soon the sound dies away 
and sinks into oblivion. No inhabitant of Bethlehem is 
awakened to the duties of hospitality — still does HE lie 



258 hall's scripture history. 

in a manger whom the angels left their thrones to pro- 
claim, whom the sages travelled from the east to wor- 
ship, whom a bright star notified to the world as claim- 
ing the adoration of heaven and earth. The Gentiles, 
O Savior, came to thy light, they came to the brightness 
of thy rising. This first event foretold those which 
should follow: the heathen come from far to adore the 
Messiah, while the Jews reject him. 

Studious in their researches after truth, the wise men 
were selected by God to do honor to the manifestation 
of his Son. Human learning, well improved, makes us 
capable of divine. There is no knowledge, whereof God 
is not the author — he would never have bestowed on 
his creatures a gift which had a tendency to estrange 
them from himself. What can be more groundless than 
the assertion, that an inquiry into the laws of nature 
tends to make us atheists 1 No man is so qualified to see 
the star of Christ as a diligent proficient in philosophy 

The miraculous light which conducted the sages to 
Judea was visible to others — they only followed it who 
knew that it could not be accounted for on natural prin- 
ciples. He is truly wise whose wisdom tends to salva- 
tion. Had these men been acquainted with all the lumi- 
naries of heaven and remained ignorant of this star, 
they would have been destitute of spiritual knowledge — 
the light that was in them would have been darkness. 
Learning, when separated from Christianity, is but a 
false and treacherous phantom, which seduces mankind 
to the paths of error and destruction. 

How does the mercy of God proportion his grace to 
the capacity and disposition of its objects ! The angels 
direct the shepherds — the star guides the sages : their 
skill in astronomy had taught them that the form, the 
brightness, the motion of this luminous orb was every 
way miraculous. The superstitious might well conjec- 
ture that some strange news was portended to the 



THE SAGES AND THE STAR. 2G9 

world — but that this star announced the birth of the 
Messiah, was a truth which needed another light — had 
it not been accompanied by revelation from God, it 
would have led the wise men only into fruitless wonder. 

He who taught Balaam that a star should arise out of 
Jacob, enlightened the heart of these sages with divine 
illumination. The Spirit of God knows no partiality, no 
restriction. Man}?- shall come from the east and from 
the west, and shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven. 
The Almighty confined not his favors to Jerusalem — 
the sound went forth into all the world — not only Jews, 
but Gentiles were chosen to be the instruments of his 
glory. ^ 

Whither should the wise men repair but to Jerusa- 
lem 1 Where should they hope to hear of the new King 
but in the metropolis of the kingdom X The star only 
conducted them to Judea — the rest is left to their in- 
quiry. Their Vv?isdom could not teach them to imagine 
that a prince could be born whom heaven itself an- 
nounced to the world, and that his own subjects could 
be ignorant of it — not deeming the question difficult to 
be answered, they demand, '' Where is he that is born 
King of the Jews V 

Had these sages .met with the shepherds near Bethle- 
hem, they had received that intelligence of Christ, which 
they sought in vain at Jerusalem. The glad tidings of 
salvation were hidden from the wise and prudent, and 
were revealed unto babes. Even so. Father, for so it 
seemed good in thy sight. Meanwhile no circumstance 
was wanting which might confirm the truth of the Gos- 
pel, or put to silence the arrogance of infidelity. The 
chief priests and scribes attest the predicted place of 
our Savior's nativity. If the star had led the wise men 
at once to Bethlehem, the learned Jews had never 
searched the import of those prophecies which led at 
once to their conviction. 



270 hall's scripture history. 

It was well that the name of foreigners could plead 
in excuse for those who sought a new king at the court 
of Herod : had any of his own subjects made the de- 
mand, the offender would (no doubt) have been punish- 
ed with death. The tyrant would not have aspired to 
the crown of Judea, nor pursued such indirect measures 
to obtain it, if his heart had not been enslaved to ambi- 
tion. With what terror and consternation did he hear 
the words of the sages 1 His long residence among the 
Jews had made him familiar with those many and con- 
fident reports of a Deliverer who should ere long arise 
out of Israel ; now, when he is told that a King is born, 
whose coming is notified by a star from heaven, he is 
struck with sudden consternation. Every thing alarms 
the guilty — usurpation is always full of jealousy and 
torment. 

Why art thou troubled, O Herod ^ A King is born, 
but a King whose government concurs with lawful sove- 
reignty — a Prince, by whom righteous kings hold their 
sceptres, not lose them. The wise men speak of a king, 
the star tells thee he is heavenly — here is cause of secu- 
rity, not of fear. If men could know how much delight 
is afforded by the presence of the Redeemer, he would 
be received by them, not with apprehension, but with 
grateful welcome. 

Herod assembles his council, and demands where 
Christ shall be born. The miraculous light has disap- 
peared — but there is a fixed star, shining in the writings 
of the prophets, which sends them directly to Bethle- 
hem. As yet envy and prejudice had not blinded the 
eyes and perverted the hearts of the Jewish teachers — 
they now clearly justify that Messiah whom they after- 
wards condemn, and, by thus justifying him, condemn 
themselves in rejecting him. If God had no more wit- 
ness than from his enemies, we have ground enough for 
our faith. 



THE SAGES AND THE STAI^^ 271 

Herod feared, but dissembled his fear. The tyrant's 
pride would not suffer him to betray his terror to stran- 
gers — he contents himself with sending the sages to 
Bethlehem in search of the new-born King. How easily 
might the cruelty of Herod have suborned some of his 
bloody minions to rid him of all apprehension ! But the 
good providence of God would not suffer the machina- 
tions of evil men to counteract the designs of his hea- 
venly mercy. The kings of the earth stand up, and the 
rulers take counsel together, against the anointed of the 
Lord J but Jehovah will not leave him in their hand. 

There is no villany which cannot mask itself under a 
show of piety. Herod will also worship the babe ! The 
courtesy of a tyrant is death — never does a hypocrite 
imagine so much wickedness as when he speaks the 
fairest. The wise men depart full of expectation and 
desire — they depart, but unaccompanied. Whether im- 
peded by distrust, or fear, or infidelity, of all the thou- 
sands of Judah no individual attempts to see that King 
whom strangers came from the east to visit. Yet are 
not these resolute sages discouraged ; they cheerfully 
pursue their journey to that place which the ancient 
light of prophecy pointed out. And now, behold, God 
bears witness to them from heaven, by sending again 
their first guide to direct their steps towards Bethlehem. 
What joy these wise men conceived Avhen their eyes 
beheld the reappearance of that friendly star, they only 
can imagine who, after a long and grievous night of 
sorrov/, have experienced the loving-kindness of God 
shining upon their souls. If with obedience and con- 
stancy we follow his commandments, we shall not want 
supplies of comfort. If we forsake not our God, he 
will look down upon us, and bless us, and show us the 
light of his countenance, and be merciful unto us. 

He who led Israel by a pillar of fire to the land of 
promise, leads the sages by a star to the promised ]\Ies- 



272 hall's scripture history. 

siah. All his directions partake of his o^vn Divine nature. 
God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. His good- 
ness condescends to human infirmity — his knowledge 
vouchsafes to instruct our ignorance. 

When the wise men see the star become stationary, 
they look around for the royal palace which they had 
so long and anxiously sought — they scarcely trust the 
evidence of their senses, that under that lowly roof they 
are to find their expected King. Yet do they not refuse 
to enter. They approach, and behold thee, O Savior, 
in thy state of meek humility, wrapped in swaddling- 
clothes, lying in a manger, unattended but by thy blessed 
mother and her betrothed husband. What a sight was 
this, after all the glorious promises of the star, after all 
the predictions of the prophets, after all the magnificence 
of their expectation ! 

Had these holy men been weak in the faith they had 
sought elsewhere for their King, and sought in vain. 
But they had not so learned Christ — no sooner do they 
behold the heavenly infant than they fall downi and wor- 
ship. They behold his royalty, though afar oif — a royalty 
more than human, the glory of the only begotten of the 
Father, full of gi*ace and truth. Nor are they contented 
to hold up empty hands to the Redeemer ; they accom- 
pany their adoration with gifts, the most precious pro- 
duce of their country. Gold, and frankincense, and 
myrrh are presented to Jesus, in humble testimony of 
his supremacy. 

The oblations of faith and piety cannot fail of finding 
acceptance in the sight of our heavenly Father. He re- 
gards as a free-will oftering to himself the tnbute of grate- 
ful love. The sacrifice of the righteous is well-pleasing 
unto God — how much more when he bringeth it with a 
willing mind ] 



THE PURIFICATION. 273 



07.— THE PURIFICATION. 

He wlio came to be sin for us, would satisfy the law, 
that he might take away our uncleanncss, that righteous- 
ness might be imputed to us also. Though he were ex- 
empt from the common condition of our birth, he conde- 
scended to a compliance with those accustomed rites 
which implied the weakness and imperfection of human 
nature. Not a day is changed, cither in the circumcision 
of Christ or the purification of Mary. However ill-adapt- 
ed was the scene of our Lord's birth for this appointed rit- 
ual, he would not transgi-ess the institutions once delivered 
by himself. We cannot be thine, O Lord, if our souls are 
uncircumcised — O grant that we may be partakei*s of thy 
holiness — cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspi- 
ration of thy blessed Spirit — that we may perfectly love 
thee, and worthily magnify thy glorious name ! 

"When the angel of God appeared to Joseph, to vindi- 
cate the character of his espoused wife, and to remove 
those suspicions which had agitated his mind, he told the 
adopted father of our Lord by what name he should call 
the heavenly child. *' She shall bring forth a Son, and 
thou shalt call his name Jesus — for he shall save his peo- 
ple from their sins." Already had instructions to the 
same effect been given to Mary. When she received the 
glad tidings of joy and salvation, the celestial messenger 
declared that the promised Messiah should be known by 
a name, signifying both his power and mercy — a name ex- 
pressive of deliverance vouchsafed by God to his faithful 
people. The illustrious successor of Moses, the great 
High-Priest who led the children of the captivity to their 
much-loved Jerusalem, had borne the same ajipellation. 
Each was an eminent forerunner of our Lord — each was 
more than in name a minister of deliverance. The one 
conducted the chosen joeople of God from the wilderness 
12* 



274 hall's scripture history. 

into the land of promise, v/itli victory, and glory, and joy 
— tlie other brought them once more from their misera- 
ble vassalage, to liberty and peace. While the Author of a 
greater salvation, calling us out of the desert of this world, 
out of the miserable bondage of sin, invites us to the man- 
sions of eternal ha2:)piness — to that Jerusalem, which be- 
ing above, is free — to the glorious liberty of the children 
of God. " Therefore hath his almighty Father highly ex- 
alted him, and given him a name which is above every 
name — that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, 
of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things 
under the earth — and that every tongue should confess 
that Jesus Christ is the Lord, to the glory of God the 
Father." 

No sooner is the blessed virgin capable of undertaking 
the journey, than she repairs from Bethlehem to Jerusa- 
lem, to perform the holy rites which the law of Moses had 
appointed for herself and for her Son — to purify herself, 
to present her first-born. She goes not to her own house 
at Nazareth, she hastens to the temple of God. If puri- 
fying were a shadow, thanksgiving is a substance. That 
mother, who (having experienced the mercy of heaven in 
the hour of pain and danger) refuses to offer her tribute 
of cheering praise, partakes neither of the gratitude nor 
the devotion of Mary. 

The rumor of a King newly born at Bethlehem was 
yet recent at Jerusalem, since the journey of the eastern 
sages. With v/hat joy would the minions of Herod have 
betrayed him to their master, had not the merciful provi- 
dence of God shielded him from discovery ! With what 
joy would they have proclaimed, *' Here is the babe 
whom the star announced, whom the wise men sought, 
whom the angels celebrated, of whom the shepherds dis- 
coursed, whom the chief priests and scribes notified, who 
is already the rival of our sovereign." Yet to this very 
Jerusalem, which had been troubled at the news of his 



THE PURIFICATIOxV. 275 

birth, is Christ come — while the tyrant who sent to Beth- 
lehem to seek him is foiled and baffled in his own mise- 
rable policy. God saw that it was not time to give scope to 
the fuiy of the ojopressor. Surely the wrath of men shall 
praise thee, O Lord — the rage of thine adversaries shall 
conduce to their shame and thy glory. 

On the day appointed by the law the blessed virgin 
presents herself and her infant in the temple. She urges 
not her high privilege, but dutifully complies with those 
ordinances which could in no case be ncQ:lected without 
offence or danger — like the mother of him whom it be- 
hoved to fulfil all righteousness — like the mother of him, 
who, though he knew thp children free, would yet him- 
self pay tribute to Caesar. 

The service required by God is regulated by our abil- 
ity. Every mother among the Jews was not able to af- 
ford a lamb for a burnt-ofiering : a pair of turtle doves, 
or young pigeons was an oblation easy to be procured 
by those in the meanest state. These did the Lord of 
heaven and earth prescribe in his law — accepting them no 
loss graciously than the cattle upon a thousand hills. He 
seeks some testimony of gi-ateful devotion ; but he wishes 
to proportion it to the station and power of the worshij^- 
per. The smallest offering of an humble and thankful 
heart is precious in his sight — a mite from the poor 
widow is more dear to him than all the talents of the 
wealthy. 

The blessed virgin comes in the form of poverty before 
her God — the offering itself spake her penury. How can 
we despise a fellow-christian for the lowliness of his con- 
dition, when we reflect that the mother of our Lord was 
unal)le to provide a lamb for her purification ? O Mary, 
thy Son, for whom thou broughtest that dove to be sacri- 
ficed, was that sacrifice which the dove represented. 

There was nothing in him but perfection of innocence ; 
and by the oblation of him the children of men are puri- 



276 hall's SCRirTURE HISTORY. 

ijed, and made lioly. Since in ourselves we cannot be in- 
nocent, liappy are we that the spotless victim is sacrificed 
for us, to make us innocent in Him ! 

Not only to offer the sacrifice of purification for herself, 
but to present the child Jesus to his heavenly Father, did 
the virgin approach the temple. Every first-bom son, by 
a general consecration, was holy unto the Lord. Since 
that display of almighty power and mercy which brought 
death to Egypt and life to Israel, God had claimed this 
service as due unto himself The Lora of all creatures 
had an unlimited title to his own ; and the obedience of 
Christ would leave nothing unaccomplished which eter- 
nal wisdom had enjoined. But when God, by his immedi- 
ate appointment, chose the tribe of Levi to minister unto 
himself, the first-born of the other tribes (instead of being 
immediately devoted to the ministry) were merely pre* 
sented in the temple, and afterwards restored to their pa- 
rents. Nor did this law regard only the children of men 
— the first male of every clean beast was set apart for 
sacrifice ; of every unclean, exchanged for a price. The 
Divine institution conveyed a useful lesson, that the best 
of God's gifts is most fit to be consecrated to the GiA-er. 
Every thing we have exceeds our deserts — how much 
more, if we think any thing too precious for Him '? 

God would not leave himself without witness. Within 
those sacred walls he had prepared an attestation to his 
blessed Son. There the devout Anna fastened her eyes 
on the hope of Israel — there the holy Simeon, who had 
been assured that he should not taste of death till he had 
seen the Messiah, poured forth the effusions of gi'ateful 
transport. How lovely is that old age which can reflect 
on the past without remorse, and look forward to the fu- 
ture with faith and hope ! Go to thy repose, thou faithful 
servant of thy Master — thine eyes have seen his salvation 
— let thy hoary head rest in peace, in humble expectation 
of its crown of glory. Again shalt thou see thy Lord and 



HEROD AND TUE INFANTS. 277 

Savior — thou shall see him again — thine heart shall re- 
joice — never more shall that joy be taken away from 
thee. 

How glorious did the temple now appear! This was 
the hour, this was the guest, by reason of whom the glory 
of the second house should exceed that of the first. That 
Desire of all nations, the Lord, who was sought by faith 
and hope, was now in the hallowed abode consecrated to 
himself There had he long dwelt, in his spiritual and in 
his typical presence. Nothing was either placed or done 
within those walls which had not a reference to, or a re- 
semblance of him — and now the substance of these sha- 
dows is come, and presejits himself in that place where 
he had ever been prefigured to mankind. 

Under the Gospel we are all first-born ; all heirs — eve- 
ry soul is consecrated to the Lord — we are a royal gen- 
eration, a holy priesthood. Nothing can become us but 
holiness. O thou, to whom we are devoted, by whose 
holy name we are called, accept our services — pardon our 
imperfections — glorify thyself by us — and, through thy 
merits and mediation, let us be glorified with thee for 
evermore. Amen. 



58.— HEROD AND THE INFANTS. 

The secrecy of Herod was of itself just cause of suspi- 
cion to the eastern sages. If his designs were laudable, 
what needed his dark and private consultations 1 Why did 
he intrust an affair of such magnitude to strangers, with- 
out associating himself or his people with them in their 
search after the new-born King ] 

God, who had conducted the wise men to Judea, takes 



278 hall's SCRirTURE HISTORY. 

on himself tlie guidance of tlieir return. No sooner have 
they paid their adorations and presented their oft'eringa 
to liis blessed Son, than they are honored with a second 
message from the Almighty. They saw the star in the 
way, the angel at Bethlehem. The star directed their 
journey to Christ, the angel taught them to shun the pre- 
sence of Herod — they saw the star by day, the angel by 
night. God, who had already spoken to their eyes, now 
addresses their hearts. No doubt they who had publish- 
ed the birth of the Messiah by their inquiry at Jerusalem, 
were not silent when they had found him at Bethlehem. 
What might they nave expected but death, had they re- 
turned to the tyrant ] Herod meditated destruction to the 
babe whom they sought — would he have spared those 
who openly acknowledged his rival ] But the object of 
their mission being accomplished, He who sent them pro- 
vides for their safety. When God countemianded Herod 
there was no hesitation whom to obey. Aware that they 
had every thing to expect from the usurper's fury, if (be- 
fore they left Judea) he should discover that he had been 
mocked in his own territories by strangers, they were con- 
tent to commit their way unto the Lord — they trusted in 
him — and his mercy brought to pass their deliverance. 

The wise men once more in tlieir native country, fill 
the world with expectation and wonder — while Joseph 
and Mary are yet in Jerusalem, ignorant of those dark 
stratagems which jealousy and suspicion were forming 
against the innocent Jesus. The city was full of rumors 
— but the object of them was concealed from the eye of 
curiosity or malice. How, when the blessed virgin pre- 
pares to return to Nazareth, (the destined place of her 
abode,) God prevents hor by his angel, and sends her for 
security into Egypt. 

It was not long since a messenger from heaven had ap- 
Dcared to Joseph, to attest the innocence of the mother 
and the divinity of the Son — he appears again for the pre- 



HEROD AND THE INFANTS. 279 

iiervation of both, a preservation only to be effected by 
flight. No shadow of doubt intervenes, no disbelief per- 
]>lexes this servant of God. He says not — " Is this the 
King who shall deliver Israel ? If he be the Son of God, 
-vvhy is he subject to the violence of man ] If he be al- 
mighty, why must he flee 1 Why depart from that land 
he conies to govern and to save "?" The pious Joseph had 
learned better things from the angel. He had treasured in 
liis mind the words and actions of the wise men, of Anna, 
of Simeon. He knew that faith was the evidence of things 
imseen. Implicitly relying on the power and wisdom of 
the God who thus signified his holy will, he believed, and 
wondered, and obeyed. 

O strange condition of the King of glory ! Even the 
lowly estate in which he was born will not afford that 
safety which is the best privilege attendant on poverty; 
There was no room for him, either in Bethlehem or in^ 
Judea — no sooner is he come to his own, than he must 
flee from them and betake himself into Egypt. How 
easily, O Savior, mightest thou have rescued thyself 
against Herod 1 How could an arm of flesh have prevail- 
ed against thy mighty power ? Thou mightest have com- 
manded fire to come down from heaven, or have bidden 
the earth open her mouth and swallow up thine enemies 
— but as thou wouldst be boni poor and lowly, so thou 
wouldstlive subject to human vexations, that having taught 
us how good it is to boar the yoke even in our youth, thou 
mightest sanctify to us early aflflictions. Why then do 
the members complain if they partake of those sufferings 
which were patiently submitted to by their Head ? 

The life and the adversity of our Redeemer began to- 
gether. Already did the sword pierce the blessed virgin's 
soul, while she clasped the heavenly infant to her bosom 
in all the anxiety of maternal tenderness, and trembled 
for his innocent life. Egypt itself was a Paradise, while 
it afforded him a place of refuge. His presence ond liis 



280 HAI-L.'S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

safety were arguments of comfort in the midst of sorrow 
— a light which shone through suiTounding darkness. And 
does the mother of Jesus flee for succor and preserva- 
tion to the scene of Israel's past affliction, the once cniel, 
once inhospitable land which oppressed the people of 
God ? What a change is here 1 Israel, the first-born of 
God, flees out of Egypt into Judea — Christ, the first-born 
of every creature, must flee from Judea into Egypt. O 
thou, who art every where present, every where the same, 
thou canst make all things tend to the deliverance of thy 
children. The fiery furnace, the den of lions, the deep 
and wide sea, the land of Egypt itself, can all by thy 
command become mansions of peace and security. 

Joseph having received his charge in the night, delays 
not till morning. God said " Arise !" and he arose. Obe- 
dience hastened his departure ; the charge was direct — 
the business important — he dares not taiTy for the light, 
but departs at once towards Egypt. The tyrant had not 
yet so fully arranged his horrible designs as to make the 
removal of the holy family a matter of difficulty — thus far 
their poverty seems to have sheltered them from suspicion 
and procured them a peaceful introduction to the land of 
their pilgi'image. But they had greater and stronger pro- 
tection — all the host of heaven encamped around the Sa- 
vior of mankind — neither Herod nor the united force of 
the powers of darkness could prevail against him. In the 
region whither God himself had directed them to seek 
for refuge, they abide in peace and security till these 
calamities are overpast. 

Meantime the sanguinary Herod laments his folly and 
infatuation, beholds all his stratagems fail of their effect, 
all his treachery prove abortive. In vain does he expect 
the return of the eastern sages. His falsely-assumed piety, 
his specious pretext of a design to worship the heavenly 
child, have neither engaged these illustrious converts in 
his service, nor inarked out to him the object of his vin- 



HEROD AND THE INFANTS. 2S1 

tlictive terrors. He learns that the wise men are depart- 
ed from Bethlehem — that they are returned into their own 
country — that his designs are baffled and counteracted 
both by God and man. 

The chief priests and scribes had made him acquaint- 
ed with the place where the Messiah should be born. He 
suspects not the flight of Jesus — he knows not the name, 
he cannot exactly ascertain the age of Him whom the 
sages had proclaimed King of the Jews. But now his an- 
ger passes all bounds, and his fear proves desperate. All 
the infants of Bethlehem shall bleed, that the rival of He- 
rod may be among the slain. All, even to the age of two 
years, shall be included in, the massacre. Some precious 
pretence is alleged for assembling into one place the in- 
habitants of the adjoining coasts. A tyi'annous guiltiness 
never thinks itself safe ; but still seeks further security 
in the excess of cruelty. He who had made such private 
inquiries after Christ, no doubt kept secret his abhorred 
design till the moment fixed on for its perpetration. 
Then, on a sudden the messengers of his fury rush in, 
tear the helpless victims from the arms of maternal love, 
and, without any regard to tears or entreaties, murder the 
innocent babes, and leave their wretched mothers in a state 
between madness and death. *' In Ramah was there a 
voice heard — lamentation, and weeping, and gi^eat mourn- 
ing — Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be 
comforted, because they are not." 

Behold the first fruits to God and to the Lamb ! While 
their early age made them incapable of judging for them- 
selves, their sufferings are accepted and recompensed with 
a martyr's crown. Summoned to the bosom of their 
heavenly Father, they escape the sorrows of a miserable 
world and enter at once into everlasting joy. There are 
they joined by an innumerable multitude of blessed souls, 
whom it has pleased God, from time to time, to take 
away in the dawn of life from the world unto himself — 



2S2 HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

happy objects of their Savior's love, who, even in their 
tender years, are ripe for glory. 

The bloody, inhuman tyrant survives not long this odi- 
ous execution — he could take away the lives of others — 
he could not protract his o\\ti. While he imagines that 
he has cut off his rival from the earth, and beguiled the 
star, and eluded the prophecies, he is summoned to the 
tribunal of that just God who maketh inquisition for 
guiltless blood. The ungodly in his pride doth persecute 
the poor — he lieth waiting secretly, as a lion lurketh in 
his den — he imagines wickedness, and practises it. But 
thou, O God, shalt bring him into the pit of destruction — 
blood-thirsty and deceitful men shall not live out half their 
days — Oh how suddenly do they consume, perish, and 
come to a fearful end ! 



59.— CHRIST WITH THE DOCTORS IN 
THE TEMPLE. 

The oppressor is no more — the voice of God recalls the 
holy family from their exile. That voice which had dis- 
missed them into Egypt, bids them retuiTi without fear or 
hazard to their native country. There, in the retirement 
suited to his tender years, the blessed Jesus lives subject 
to his mother and to her husband. Yet even the spring 
shows us what we may expect from the approaching sum- 
mer. In his childhood our Savior would give mankind a 
proof of his Divine graces, to prepare the world for that 
perfection which afterwards demonstrated him to be the 
power of God, and the wisdom of God. The sun would 
dazzle all eyes, if at its first rising it appeared in its ful- 
ness of strength — but the morning-star precedes that glo- 



CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE. 283 

nous luminary, and the lively colors of tlie dawn proclaim 
its approach. Thus the eye is comforted, not overj^ower- 
ed by the appearance of the orb of light, when it cometh 
forth as a bridegi'oom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth 
as a giant to run his course. 

The blessed virgin went up to Jerusalem yearly at the 
feast of the passover, accompanied, even in his early 
youth, by the child Jesus. In all his actions he had a view 
to our instruction — he was not only " a sacrifice for sin, 
but also an example of godly life." That example guides 
our first years into timely devotion. Happy are they 
whose childhood, spent in piety to God, sanctifies their 
riper age ! He who rises isarly in the morning to pursue 
his journey, is more likely to meet with success than he 
who idly lingers till the day be far sjoent. 

The inhabitants of Judea, according to the custom of their 
ancestors, w^ent up by companies to the solemnity of their 
holy festival at Jeinisalem. They went and they return- 
ed together. Friendship, combined with piety, is of it- 
self a preparation for heaven — the journey, always de- 
lightful, affords new comfort by means of this blissful so- 
ciety. It is not the least benefit of our solemn assemblies, 
that the mutual encouragement of christians excites them 
to love and to good works. ** I was glad w^hen they said 
unto me, Let us go unto the house of the Lord. Our feet 
shall stand within thy gates, O JeiTisalem ! Jerusalem is 
built as a city that is at unity in itself — for thither the 
tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, to testify unto Israel, 
to give thanks unto the name of the Lord." 

The blessed virgin having concluded her acts of devo- 
tion, departs from the holy city. Who can express tlie 
sorrow of her heart when, at eventide, she sought for Je- 
sus among her kindred and acquaintance, and sought him 
in vain ? How did she blame her credulous neglect in 
not attending to the precious charge 1 How did she re- 
gret that her eyes had ever been removed from the ob- 



284 hall's scripture history. 

ject of her love 1 What imaginations of hoiTor tortured 
her spirit ! O Mary, has the successor of Herod, by more 
prosperous devices, prevailed against the childhood of 
that Son whose infancy was so miraculously preserved ? 
Or has any want of duty or attention on thy part occasion- 
ed his absence 1 Or is he, without any previous notice, 
withdravv^n from earth and returned to his heavenly glory ] 

Lord, who can but mourn when in a state of separation 
from thee ] Who, that has seen the light of thy counte- 
nance can do otherwise than lament thy departure 1 Just 
is that grief, seasonable are those tears which are bestow- 
ed on such a loss. What comfort can we receive without 
thee ? What can afford us relief, or mitigate our distress, 
but thyself] If in thy presence is the fulness of joy ^ to be 
bereaved of thee is the fulness of sorrow, and all is dark- 
ness and desolation till thy return. 

In vain is Christ sought among his kindred — his anx- 
ious mother returns to Jerusalem. She goes about the city, 
by the streets and open places, and seeks him whom her 
soul loveth — she seeks him, and finds him not. At last, 
on the third day, she enters into the temple of God. 
Where wert thou, O blessed Jesus, for the space of these 
three days ? With whom didst tliou take up thine abode ] 
Who or where were thine attendants 1 Didst thou call on 
thy heavenly Father to support thee by miracle 1 Didst 
thou command the ministry of angels ? Or didst thou deign 
to accept the hospitality of some highly-favored mortal ? 
O God, what thou hast not revealed we presume not to 
inquire into — of this only are we assured, that thou here- 
by wouldst acquaint thy blessed mother with a portion 
of thy mighty power — and wouldst convince her, that not 
out of any indigence, but in merciful condescension, thou 
wouldst ordinarily depend upon her care. • 

In the mean time thy Divine wisdom could not but foie- 
know all those corroding thoughts with which the heart 
of thy fond parent would bleed during this painful sepa- 



CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE. 285 

ration — yet vvouldst tliou leave her for a season to lier sor- 
row. Even her who bare thee thou didst chasten with 
this early affliction. Never did any love thee who are not 
sometimes visited with thy coiTecting hand. 

" Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself, O God of 
Israel, the Savior." Therefore dost thou withdraw thy 
face from thy servants, that they may experience the joy 
of recovering thee, and may be more anxious to retain 
thee. Thou hast said, who canst not lie, " I am with you 
alway, unto the end of the world " — but sometimes while 
really j^rcsent, thou thinkest good to be absent from our 
apprehensions. O Lord, if thou leave us thou wilt not 
forsake us — thou mayest leave us for our humiliation ; but 
thou wilt not forsake us to our final discomfort. If we seek 
thee, thou wilt be found of us — miore especially if we seek 
thee in that place where thine honor dwelleth. None 
ever sincerely desire thy presence to whom thou dost re- 
fuse to manifest thyself, when it seemeth good in thy sight. 
Hope deferred maketh the heart sick — thine absence shall 
not be so lono- in its duration as to extini^uish that lidit 
of our souls. In due season we shall find thee — and where 
shall we hope to find thee, if not in thy temple ] This is the 
habitation of the Lord of glory — this is the place of his 
rest for ever. 

Ye who lament the departure of your Savior know 
where to direct your researches in sure confidence of suc- 
cess. In vain shall ye hope to find him amidst worldly 
cares or vain gi-atifications — let your steps be directed to 
the sanctuary — seek him with faith — seek him with piety 
— there shall ye meet him, there shall ye find him. 

The Son of God had duties to perform in his Father's 
house when those of his companions were ended — he tar- 
ried therefore, not to gaze with admiration on the outward 
glory and magnificence of the temple, but to hear the 
teachers of the law in their place of assembly, and to im. 
fa.rt, while he seemed to receive, information. He from 



28G hall's scripture UIStORY. 

wliom all knowledge is derived, hearkens, as the son of 
man, to the wisdom he had implanted in tlie wise. The 
Author of all learning sits in their school as an humble dis- 
ciple — not yet called by his heavenly Father to his pubhc 
function, he is contented to hear with diligence, to ask 
with modesty, and to teach only by gentle insinuation. 
Let all those consider this who deem it not necessary to 
await a solemn designation to the office of the ministry, 
according to the laws of God and man. Let them open 
their eyes and behold their Savior meekly sitting as an 
auditor amidst the Jewish teachers, and hearkening to the 
voice of instruction. Never did he preach unto the people 
till the solemn consecration of his Father, at his baptism, 
sent him forth to declare the counsel of God. 

Behold the Son of God thus reverently placed at the 
feet of the doctors of Israel and seeking for the treasures 
of ancient wisdom. First he hears, then he asks — how 
much more does it concern us to be hearers ourselves, 
ere we presume to be teachers of others ! If we expend 
before we gather, we shall in vain hope to lay up the j^len- 
teous stores of useful and saving knowledge. 

When he hath heard, he asks ; and afterward he an- 
swers. Doubtless those very questions were instructions, 
and designed for the advantage of those to whom they 
were propounded. Never had these masters of Israel 
heard the voice of such a teacher — in whom the wisdom 
of God in part concealed itself, in part was discovered to 
mankind. No marvel that they all wondered at the un- 
derstanding of their youthful associate — their eyes beheld 
nothing but human weakness — their eai's heard Divine sub- 
limity of matter — between both, their hearts were full of 
doubtful admiration. Why did ye not remember, O ye 
Jewish teachers, that a Child should be bom, a Son given, 
whose name should be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the 
Prince of Peace ? Why did ye not remember what the 
star, the ^ages, the angels, Zacharias, Simeon, Anna had 



CHRIST BAPTIZED. 287 

revealed iii your aays ? Fruitless is that wonder which 
does not terminate in faith. No liQ^ht is sufficient where 
the eyes are sealed up by prejudice or unbelief. 

How did joy strive with astonishment in the heart of 
the blessed virgin when her eyes were fastened on her 
child ! Forgetful of those higher claims, which in a calmer 
moment she could not but acknowledge, she breaks forth 
into a loving expostulation — ** Son, why hast thou thus 
dealt with us 1 Thy father and I have sought thee soi- 
rowing !" Our Savior in his reply, not only accounts for 
his absence, but points out the momentous purpose which 
had occasioned it. Mary, in compliance with the sup- 
position of the world, had. spoken of Joseph as the fa- 
ther of Christ. The Son of God directs her thoughts from 
earth to heaven. " Wist ye not that I must be about my 
Father's business V The eternal Son of his eternal Father 
tells the daughter of man that all earthly considerations, of 
what nature soever, must give place to the God of spirits. 
She hears the just admonition and acquiesces in respect- 
ful silence. O thou who hast vouchsafed to call us thy 
children, by whose gracious adoption we are the sons of, 
God, teach us to lay aside all earthly distractions, and dedi- 
cate our hearts to thee. One day in thy courts is better 
than a thousand elsewhere. Let us wait for thy loving- 
kindness, O Lord, in the midst of thy temple ! 



60.— CHRIST BAPTIZED. 

In a state of separation from the world, and under the 
immediate tuition of heaven, John the Baptist was initi- 
ated into the mysteries of Divine wisdom. It is expedient 



2SS hall's scripture history. 

that solitude and contemplation should prepare the mni- 
ister of the Gospel for the duties of his important office : 
the servant of God, who would faithfully discharge liis 
high calling in j^ublic, must first qualify himself for that 
purpose in private. In the pursuit of heavenly knowledge, 
he must, as it were, converse with patriarchs and prophets, 
apostles, martyrs, confessors, holy men of God, who onco 
adorned the church by their lives, and have continued 
since their death to edify it by their writings. He must 
have recourse to a state of calm retirement, where anxious 
cares and delusive pleasures may not break in upon him, 
to dissipate his attention — where no uncharitable spirit 
may blind his understanding or obstruct the illumination 
from above — where every bud of piety, sheltered from 
noxious blasts, may be gradually reared up into strength, 
and beauty, and fragrance — where, in a word, " he may 
wax strong in spirit until the day of his showing unto 

Israel." 

But the retirement of this blessed saint of God is finish- 
ed, and he must now exchange the pleasures of contem- 
plation for the scenes of active life — he must behold, with 
gi'ief and indignation, the sins and follies of mankind, and 
encounter the opposition of a world that would not fail 
to take arms against a preacher of repentance. 

Attracted by the uncommon sanctity of the Baptist, the 
inhabitants of the neighboring cities and villages repair 
in great numbers to the wilderness. They behold one 
cominsr forth on a sudden, like an inhabitant of another 
world, whose person, demeanor and manner of life were 
themselves an illustration of his doctrine. They behold 
one sent to prejDare the Avay for Christ, and to bring 
the glad tidings of the Gospel — that mercy might save 
from the wrath which justice had denounced, and that 
Jesus might comfort those whom Moses had caused to 
mourn. Elijah reclaimed the people from the worshii:> of 
Baal to that of the true Jehovah. John called his hearers 



CHRIST BAPTIZED. 2S9 

from unbelief, hypocrisy and vice, to faith, to holiness, 
and to God. 

It was fit that He, whose coming into the world was 
foretold by prophets, and notified by angels, should be 
proclaimed by this his herald, when he should reveal 
himself to mankind. John was the voice of one crying in 
the wilderness — Christ was the Word of God himself 
The voice of the messenger justly preceded the word of the 
Father, " Repent ye — for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. 
A new and heavenly kingdom is about to be set up amongst 
you, under a heavenly king, the promised Messiah — and 
none but men of a temper and disposition corresponding 
to it can possibly become' its subjects. I am die person 
commissioned to prepare you for your happy change by 
calling you to repentance, and to my baptism, which is 
the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins, 
through faith in Him who cometh after me to confer par- 
don and forgiveness. I am the prophet foretold by Malachi 
and Isaiah, sent to prepare the way for Him who is your 
King and your God, now ready to be manifested as the 
Savior of men." 

Thus must the way be made for Christ in every 
heart — violence must be offered to our corruptions ere 
we can have room for grace. Never will he enter that 
soul where the herald of repentance hath not been 
before him. 

At last the Sun of Righteousness begins to show itself 
to the world. After thirty years passed in retirement at 
Nazareth, the Redeemer of mankind appears, to enlight- 
en them by his doctrine and refresh them by the influences 
of his grace. The vast concourse of all ranks of people 
attending on the Baptist at the river Jordan, rendered that 
the fittest place where the Messiah might first show him- 
eelf to the world. He who knew no sin, would both be 
circumcised, to sanctify the past dispensation, and baptiz- 
ed, to consecrate the future ; that so under both testa- 

Script. HlsL 13 



290 hall's SCRirTURE HISTORY. 

nients he miglit open a way into heaven for us, heing 
made the righteousness of God in him. 

Never till this moment had the forerunner of our Sa- 
vior seen him whom he was commissioned to proclaim. 
Jesus Avas brought up at Nazareth — John in the wilder- 
ness — no interview had passed between them ; lest the 
voice of infidelity should accuse them of acting in concert 
to favor each other's pretensions. When Jesus there- 
fore came to be baptized, John had no knowledge of his 
person. Immediate revelation from God points out to tlie 
Baptist that the Lord's Anointed is before him. He hears 
the name, the place of abode of Jesus. While others 
]>refaced their baptism by a solemn confession of sins, he 
beholds one whose whole life had been a life of unspotted 
iiinocence. This then could be no other than that Just 
One whose coming he had been taught to expect, and 
to whom the Almighty was about to bear witness from 
heaven. 

Confounded at the thought that the master should thus 
humble himself before the servant, the Baptist modestly 
declines an honor he deemed too o^reat even for the ori'eat- 
est of prophets — " I have need to be baj^tized of thee, and 
comest thou to me ]" A sense of human infirmity, and a 
due estimation of the value of spiritual gifts, is the best 
trial of a reorenerate heart. Our Blessed Savior denies not 

CD 

the assertion of his forerunner — but he will thus far exalt 
the Baptist and demean himself — " Suffer it to be so now, 
for thus it becometh us to fulfil all lighteousness." Thy 
mercy, O Lord, condescends to be beholden to thy crea- 
tures for those gifts which they originally received from 
thee. Made under the law, thou woulchst fulfil the righte- 
ousness of the law, consisting in an obedience to ceremo- 
nial rites as well as moral precepts. The counsels and 
a2>pointments of God are *' righteousness" itself. There 
needs no other motive, either to the servant or the Son, 
than the knowledge of those righteous pui^oses. This was 



CHRIST BAPTIZED. 291 

enough to lead the faitliful heart through all difficulties — 
the unanswerable aro^ument which challenofed instant 
obedience. John accepts in all humility the high office to 
which his Savior hath called him — he gives ba2:)tism to the 
Redeemer of mankind. Others were baptized for the re- 
mission of their sins — now He through whose merits a 
sinful world obtains forgiveness unto life. 

No sooner was Jesus ba^^tized than he came up straight- 
way out of the water — He stood on the brink of Jordan, a 
greater than Joshua, preparing to lead the people of God 
to the land of promise. There, O Savior, didst thou pour 
forth thy soul in prayer to thine almighty Father — there 
didst thou implore success in the gi'eat work thou hadst 
undertaken in behalf of a sinful world. What prayer of 
thine could ascend to heaven unheard ? Lo, while thou 
prayest, the eternal Spirit of God descends on thy sacred 
head, and in a form emblematical of peace, and innocence, 
and purity, it rests upon thee. Thus did the Father conse- 
crate thee to thine office — thus did he anoint thee with the 
Holy Ghost and with power. Long since had this aston- 
ishing event been foretold by thine evangelical prophet. 
Speaking in thine own person, he proclaimed to mankind, 
" The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord 
hath anointed me to preach good tidings to the meek — 
he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim 
liberty to the captives, and the opening of the j^rison to 
them that are bound — to comfort them that mourn." This 
day — it is thine own word — this day was the oracle of Je- 
hovah fulfilled in the ears of thy people — for, lo, a voice 
from heaven, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am 
well pleased." 

.Tohn bare record and said, ''Behold the Laml of Gcd 
which taketh away the sin of the world. Behold that bless- 
ed person, prefigured in the law and foretold by the pro- 
phets — one who is all meekness and innocence, patience 
and resignation, without offence in his lips, without guile 



292 hall's scripture history. 

or malice in his heart, in whom dwelleth the fulness of the 
Godhead bodily. This is the Lamb, of which the patri- 
arch Abraham spake to his son, that God would send him 
in due time — the Lamb, by the sprinkling of whose blood 
the true Israelites are preserv^ed from the destroyer — the 
sacrifice, on which are laid the iniquities of us all — the 
Savior, who by expiating, taketh away the sin of the world 
and conferreth righteousness on them who will be con- 
formed to his example. This, O all ye that behold him, 
this is he of whom I said, after me cometh a man which is 
preferred before me — for he was before me. His existence is 
from everlasting — he is fairer than the children of men 
— full of grace and truth — of Divine glory and celestial 
beauty, endued with the fulness of the Spirit, dispensing 
honor and immortality to mankind. He is the Son of 
God — he is the King of Israel!'* 



61.— CHRIST TEMPTED. 

The water of baptism is succeeded by the fire of temp- 
tation. The Holy Spirit of God hath no sooner descend- 
ed upon the blessed Jesus than he is called to encounter 
the powers of darkness. The more we are engaged in tho 
service of God by our public vows, and by the Divine fa- 
vor, the more is the rage of Satan exasperated against us. 
When we come forward into the field of battle, as mem- 
bers of a militant church, he labors to wrest our weapons 
from our hands or artfully to turn them against ourselves. 

The voice from heaven had acknowledged Christ to 
be the Son of God. This glorious testimony does but 
inflame the malice of the enemy. The serpent swells with 
more malignant poison, and hastens to assault Him whom 
God hath honored from his throne. O Lord, how shall 



CHRIST TEMPTED. 293 

a mortal escape that wicked one, when the Son of thy love 
could not be free — when grace itself draws on enmity 1 
Will he who spared not to strike at the Head, forbear to 
attack the members 1 Arm thou us, O God, with expec- 
tation of that evil we cannot avoid — make thou us as in- 
trepid as the tempter is malicious — let thy strength be 
made perfect in our weakness — so we shall be more than 
conquerors through him that loved us. 

During the time that our Savior dwelt in his peaceful 
retirement, Satan bent not his forces against him — now, 
that he meditates the public exercise of his sacred office, 
he must be prepared for all the fiery darts of the wicked. 
O Savior, who can sufficiently wonder at the presumption 
of that apostate spirit who dares oppose himself to the 
Son of the overliving God 1 Who can sufficiently admire 
thy meekness and patience, which would condescend to 
be thus tempted 1 The rashness of thine adversary is ex- 
ceeded by thine own humility. If a state of innocence 
could have affi>rded an exemption, the first Adam would 
not have been thus assaulted, much less the second. But, 
O gracious Lord, how glorious was it for thee, how happy 
for us, that thou wert tem.pted ! Hadst thou not been 
assailed, how shouldst thou have overcome 1 Without a 
conflict there can be no triumph, no victory — how had 
thy power been manifested if no antagonist had waged 
war against thee 1 The first man is of the earth, earth- 
ly — the second man is the Lord from heaven — the first 
was tempted, and he was subdued — the second was 
tempted, and overcame. How boldly then may we ap- 
proach the throne of grace to obtain mercy, and fin«J 
grace in time of need ] We have not a Savior who 
cannot be touched with the feeling of our infii-mities ; but 
was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. 
Lord, in viewing thy conflict with thine adversary we see 
the maimer of his assault — we see how he is resisted, how 
be is overcome. If the sins to which he tempts us are of 



294 HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

the most atrocious nature, we remember that thou wast 
solicited to infidehty, to covetousness, to idolatry. Being 
troubled on every side, we are not perplexed — being per- 
secuted, we are not in despair. How glorious was it for 
thee therefore, O Savior, how happy for thy servants, that 
thou wert tempted ! 

But whither, O blessed Jesus, didst thou go to encounter 
thine adversary and ours ] That the glory of thy victory 
might be gi-eater, thou didst retire into the waste howling 
wilderness, the haunt of wild beasts, a scene of horror and 
desolation. There didst thou remain during the space of 
forty days, fasting, solitary, exposed to the various attacks 
of the malicious enemy. The time of thy ligorous absti- 
nence corresponded with that of thy great forerunners, 
Moses and Elias. At the accomplishment of the law and 
the promulgation of the Gospel, thou, the Redeemer of 
mankind, thoughtest fit to fast forty days and forty nights, 
that (by an act designed for our wonder, rather than our 
precise imitation) thou mightest teach us how to invest 
ourselves with spiritual armor. 

He who would suffer death for our sakes, would also 
suffer hunger — in the fast, he manifested his mighty pow- 
er — in the cessation of it, the truth of his manhood. Moses 
and Elias, through the miraculous support afforded them 
from above, had fasted as long a time — after these pre- 
cedents the Author of our salvation abstained from food 
till he deemed it expedient to prevent all cavils against the 
verity of his human nature. To prove that there was no 
difference between him and his creatures (save only that 
he was exempt from sin) he would be supported with 
food — would fast — would hunger. O Savior, why should 
thy children be discouraged in tlie want of earthly com- 
forts, when they behold thee thus destitute of society, and 
voluntarily abstaining from sustenance ? 

No sooner does Christ begin to suffer hunger, than the 
adversary is at hand with his temptations. Vainly sup- 



CHRIST TEMPTED. 296 

posing that he has espied a vulnerable part, he commences 
his assault without delay. We have a foe no less vigilant 
than malicious — one who will watch every opportunity 
to injure us — one who will not forego the least possible 
advantage. How should we guard ourselves against this 
mighty adversary ! How should we labor for our own 
safety, while he seeks with so much activity to effect our 
destruction ! 

Our Savior was an hungered — Satan tempts him in 
respect to food — he knew that this was not the mo- 
ment for avarice or ambition to offer their illusions — he 
adapts the trial to the circumstances — he directs the wea- 
pons of his warfare where* they are most likely to sink 
deep into the soul. 

In every temptation there is an appearance of good, 
whether it respects the mind, th-e body, or the estate. The 
lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life 
oppose themselves to various duties. The progenitor of 
mankind was assaulted by these, and was subdued — the 
Redeemer was tempted by them, and was triumphant. 
The stones were to be made bread — the guard of angeb 
was to be presumed on — the kingdoms of the world and 
the glory of them were to be purchased by apostacy and 
profanation ! 

Satan was not a stranger to the record God had given 
of his beloved Son. The message and the acclamations 
of the heavenly host; the supernatural light of the star; the 
homage of the eastern sages — the testimony of more than 
oiie faithflil servant of Grod — the various predictions of the 
inspired prophets — all these were present to his mind. 
Yet now, beholding the object of his jealousy and malice 
oppressed with hunger, and not comprehending how such 
infirmities were consistent with his Divine nature, he pre- 
sumes to approach him with a supposition, in itself tlie 
grossest of all calumnies — '* If thou be the Son of (Jod." 
On the establishment of this truth nothing less depends 



296 hall's scripture history. 

than the eternal salvation of mankind. How should he 
have ransomed the w^orld, how should he have obliterated 
the sentence of death, how should he have reconciled all 
things to himself, whether they be things on earth or things 
in heaven, had he been otherwise than the Son of God 1 To 
undermine this important basis of our faith has ever been 
the grand object of our spiritual enemy — to assert and to 
maintain this truth must ever be the christian's glory. 

There is nothing more common with our spiritual ene- 
my than to take occasion by our wants to move us to sin. 
He seeks to tempt our Savior to distrust the providence 
of his eternal Father, to abuse his marvellous powers, to 
work a miracle at the suggestion of hell. It had been 
easy for thee, blessed Lord, to have foiled thine adversary 
by the exertion of thine omnipotence — but thou wouldst 
^•anquish him by the sword of thy Spirit, to teach us how to 
resist and overcome the powers of darkness. Assisted by 
this Divine armor, we may also be victorious. Nothing 
can resist an assault of this perilous nature but the revela- 
tion of our God. Teach me, O Lord, the way of thy sta- 
tutes — O take not the word of thy truth utterly out of my 
mouth. Let thy testimonies be my delight and my coun- 
sellors — let those be my songs in the house of my pilgrim- 
age ; so shall I make answers unto my blasphemers — for 
my trust is in thy word. 

Our Savior shows the tempter, from the highest of all au- 
thority, that his suggestions are unfounded — that man lives 
not merely by his daily food, but by eveiy word that pro- 
ceedeth out of the mouth of God ; who can either support 
his creatures without bread, or give it them by miracle, or 
multiply miraculously that which is given. All things are 
sustained by that almighty word which created them. We 
live by bread, but God makes it the means of our preser- 
vation — through his providence alone it affords us nour- 
ishment. Should he withdraw his hand from his creatures, 
they would langiiish and expire — in the midst of abuii- 



CHRIST TEMPTED. 297 

clance they would inevitably perish. ** When thou hidcst 
tliy face they are troubled — when thou takest away their 
breath they die and return to their dust," Why do we 
turn our eyes to the instrument and forget that graciovLS 
power who gives it eflicacy 1 Blessed is the people whose 
( fod is the Lord Jehovah — whom he hath chosen to be his 
inheritance. Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them 
that fear him, and upon them that put their trust in hi« 
mercy, to deliver their souls from death, and to feed them 
in time of famine. 



62.— CHRIST TBMl?TED,—co?iliHucd. 

In the first assault the enemy of mankind moved our 
Savior to doubt his Father's providence, and to use uii- 
lawful means for the support of nature— izt the next, he 
tempts him to presume on his Father's protection, and the 
service of his blessed angels. It is not one repulse which 
discountenances this bold and unweaiied opponent — if 
we cannot be sunk into despair he seeks to lift us up to 
aiTOgance and pride. Temptations, like waves of the sea, 
follow each other" in rapid succession. While we are in 
this warfare we must not expect a respite when it was de- 
nied to the Captain of our salvation, 

O Savior, the wilderness was fitted for a trial arising 
from want — when thine adversary would solicit thee 
to vain-glory, he carried thee to the pinnacle of tlie 
temple. There, not ashamed to stand by thee, lie presum- 
ed to address thee in words like these — " Thou didst re- 
fuse to depend on aught save the bounty of thy Father 
with respect to thy food — thou wouldst be sustained by 

13* 



298 hall's scripture history. 

his power rather than thine own — I now call on thee, if 
thou be the Son of God, to make further trial of his pro- 
vidence, and to challenge the ministry of his angels for 
thy miraculous preservation. Cast thyself down headlong 
from this height. Behold, thou art here In Jemsalem, the 
great and holy city — thou art on the highest pinnacle of 
that temple which is dedicated to thy Father, and (if thou 
partakest of his Divine nature) to thyself Thou canst not 
devise a more compendious method of extending thy glo- 
ry, and making proclamation of thy Godhead. The eyes 
of all men will be upon thee. All the world will adore 
thy power and bow to thine omnipotence. Does the dan- 
ger appal thee ] What can hurt him who is the Son of 
God 1 To what purpose art thou suiTounded by attendant 
spirits, who are commissioned by thy Father to watch 
over thee and keep thee ] In this one act thou wilt assert 
thy glory without prejudice to thy security. Rely on thy 
Father, and on the guardianship of his angels — Cast thy- 
self down." 

O thou malignant Spirit, why did not the presumptuous 
hand which raised the Savior of mankind to that giddy 
height, itself precipitate him thence ] Was it tliat thou 
soughtest the destmction not of his sacred body, but of 
his soul 1 Or was thy power restrained by an almighty 
arm from being subsei-vient to thy malice 1 He who 
had permitted thee to lift him up, forbade thee to cast 
him down. Wo to us, if thy destructive fury were 
uncontrolled ! Blessed be his name who hath said uiito 
thee, as to the raging sea. Hitherto shalt thou come, and 
no further — and here shall thy pride and thy malevolence 
be stayed. 

How many faithful servants of their Master are called 
to a conflict of this nature with the enemy of their salva- 
tion ! He exalts them, that their fall may be more deadly ; 
he suggests to them proud ideas of their own merit or ho- 
liness, that they may incur the displeasure of their God. 



CHRIST TEMPTED. 299 

Vv hilc ilic Failier of mercies humbles his cliilJien that 
he may bring them to glory, Satan lifts up that he may c^fct 
down, and in tlieir advancement purposes their overthrow. 
Tliere is not a more venomous or deadly shaft in his qui- 
ver than this encouragement to depend on our infallible 
claim on the Divine favor. *' Thou art the elected and re- 
deemed of God — sin, lx?cause grace hath abounded — sin, 
that it maj/ abound. Thou art safe, though thou offend — 
be not a foe to thine own liberty." Alas, is it a j^roof of 
liberty that we transgi'ess the law of liberty 1 Is not this 
the most galling of all servitude ? What is our spiritual 
freedom but a freedom of shi 1 O thou, whose blessed Son 
was manifested that he might destroy the works of the de- 
vil, and make us children of God and heirs of eternal life, 
teach us, having this precious hope, to jiurify ourselves 
even as he is jiurc. We are bought with a price, let us 
glorify God in our body and in our spirit, which are God's. 
Let a sense of our adojition lead us to reverence and obey 
thee — because we are sons, let us not cast ourselves doAvn 
into sin. 

But in what language docs Satan enforce his presum])- 
tuous req\iest 1 " It is written, lie shall give his angels 
charge over thee .'" Let no man wonder to hear the Scrip- 
tures quoted by hypocrites and false pretenders to religion, 
when the prince of darkness himself endeavors to pervert 
ihem to his purpose. Still, the word is holy, and the 
commandment holy, and just, and good. Shall we abstain 
from our necessary food because instances have occurred 
wherein it has been made a vehicle for deadly poison ? 
It is not the letter of the Scriptures, but the spirit, which 
is proper for doctrine, for instruction in righteousness — if 
we separate the one from the other, we profane that word 
no less than Satan did. Behold that apostate spirit con- 
verted into an angel of light ! behold him veiling his mur- 
derous purpose under a mask of holiness ! If hypocrisy 
Kecks to deceive with an afft^ctation of zeal and piety, we 



300 hall's scripture history. 

see from whence it has its origin. Alas, how many souls 
are endangered by the abuse of that word, which in itself 
is a guide to salvation 1 O God, who hast given us light, 
grant us a right judgment in all things, that we may per- 
ceive and enjoy the light thou hast aftbrded us. Teach us, 
O Lord, the way of thy statutes, and we shall keep them 
unto the end — we shall know the tiTith, and the truth shall 
make us free. 

O false application of that most sure promise by which 
the Father of mercies speaketh comfort to his children ! 
Yea, Lord, thou wilt give thine angels charge over us. 
We are never unattended — we are in the midst of a guard, 
though invisible, yet careful and mighty to protect us. 
Though the world insult and despise us, the angels of 
God are our associates and our defenders — no walls, no 
prisons can separate them from us — they go down into 
the christian's dungeon, they partake of his exile — how 
can he either fear danger or complain of solitude, when 
he has so inseparable, so glorious companions ? 

The blessed Jesus will yet have recourse to Scripture, 
though Satan had misapplied it. Lo, he takes the sword 
from that impious hand and foils him with his o^^^l wea- 
pons — " It is written. Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy 
Gody Wheresoever the oracles of truth appear to be in- 
volved in difficulty, that difficulty will vanish if we compai^e 
spiritual things with spiritual. "It is ti-ue, O Satan, that 
God hath given this charge, and that his holy angels have 
undertaken it. He will preserve his children, but not in 
their sins — they may trust him, they may not tempt him — 
he seeks to encourage their faith, not their presumption. 
To cast ourselves on any immediate providence, when we 
have the ordinaiy means of safety, is to disobey, not to 
believe in God. We may rely on what he has promised ; 
but we must not subject his promises to our capricious 
inclinations — fully assured of his power, his justice, his 
mercy, we have recourse to them in time of need, but we 



CHRIST TEMPTED. 301 

do not make trial of them to gi'atify our vain devices." 
All the ingenuity of Satan could not elude the force of 
this Divine answer — he no^v sees how vainly he had tempt- 
ed Christ to spiritual pride. 

Yet again do we behold him (as not despairing of the 
victory) endeavoring to shake the constancy of the Son 
of God by the offer of earthly dignity. He could neither 
move him to distrust nor presumption — but he has other 
anows within his quiver. If we are not victorious in all 
our conflicts with the adversary, it is in vain that we plume 
ourselves on any partial triumph. 

From the pinnacle of the temple our Savior is suddenly 
transported to an exceeding high mountain. That which 
Balak had once done by his instigation, Satan himselt 
attempts — he seeks, by frequent change of place, to attain 
the object of his wishes. If retirement will not move us, 
we are called into public life — if we escape this danger, 
we arc thrown once more into solitude — no place is free 
from his malice — none should be made prejudicial by our 
nco-lifrence. 

o o 

The kingdoms round about Judea were represented to 
the eye of our 'Savior — the glory of them to his imagina- 
tion. ** Where wouldst thou look for pomp, or majesty, 
or pleasure, in comparison with the courts of kings ] 
There is gorgeous apparel, honorable attendance, royal 
state — there are lich jewels, sumptuous feasts, magnifi- 
cent triumphs. Will not these aw^aken thine ambition 1" O 
false and treacherous deceiver ! How artfully is all the 
care attendant on exalted stations concealed from the 
^ iew, while every thing is brought forward which can al- 
lure or captivate ] Thus is it ever his fatal policy to varnish 
over his temptations. Might they be viewed in their 
genuine colors, in vain should he attempt to prevail. 
Now, when he solicits us to evil, he conceals the stings 
of conscience, the wrath of God, the teiTor of judgment, 
the mansions of soitow — nothing appears to the eye but 



302 HALL'S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

plcTisurc, profit, and a seeming happiness in tlie enjo}^l•lent 
of our desires — he reserves those objects of wo for our 
later hours, when he who had been once a parasite be- 
comes a tp-ant, and makes us know and feel how evil and 
bitter a thing it is to dejjart from the living God. 

But who shall paint the presumption which dared ap- 
proach the Son of God with the specious promise, " Al! 
these things will I give thee if thou \\'ilt fall dovrn and 
worship me ?-" On what base, what vile conditions does 
the accursed spint offer the whole world to the JMaker of 
it ! With what effrontery does he promise kingdoms to 
the Lord of lords, if he may but be adored by the gTcat 
object of adoration in heaven and earth ! O Satan, had 
thy blasjihcmous proposition been complied -with, how 
wouldst thou have accomplished thy w^ord ? Not by thee, 
but by the Almighty, do kings reign, and princes decree 
justice. The powers that be are ordained of God. Thine 
assertion was no less false than sacrilegious. What but 
deception can be looked for from the father of lies ! Fi- 
delity and truth are the progeny of heaven. Faithful is 
He that hath promised, who also will do it. 

The blessed Jesus, who with respect to his Divine na- 
ture thought it not robbery to be equal with God, could 
not without just indignation hear of this impious rival- 
ship. Nor yet does he have recourse to his unconti'olable 
power, that he may drive away the malignant spirit — he 
repels him, not by the thunder of his -WTath, but bv the re- 
sistless force of holy Scrijiture — *'It is written. Thou shall 
■worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou servcP 
Here was no place for reply, no room for evasion. In the 
shame and confusion of a total defeat, the adversary of 
God and man betakes himself to flight, and hides his giiilty 
head in the regions of darkness. 

We cannot be delivered from the importunate solicita- 
tions of -that wicked one, but by continued resistance. He 
who thus triumphed over the malignity of Satan will also 



SIMON PETER CALLED. 303 

befriend his faithful servants — he will strengthen, he will 
help, he will ujjhold thein by the right hand of his power, 
lie will have their faith and their constancy exercised, 
but he will not give them over unto death. In that he 
himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succor 
them that are tempted. 

O Lord, in thee have wc trusted — let us never be con- 
founded. 



63.— SIMON PETER CALLED. 

The conflict with the powers of darkness is at an end, 
and victory hath crowned the Son of God. For this pur- 
pose was he manifested, that he might destroy the works 
of the devil. O sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed 
gloriously ! Thou didst arise, O Savior, and thine enemies 
were scattered — they also which hated thee fled before 
thee. Like as the smoke vanislieth, so didst thou drive 
them away — like as wax melteth at the fire, so did they 
disappear from before the presence of God. Now does 
thy heavenly Father remove thine hunger by a supply of 
celestial food. Those holy angels (on whose miraculous 
aid thou didst refuse to presume by rushing into unneces- 
sary danger) now approach with songs of congi'atulation. 
They celebrate thy first triumph, the prelude to other and 
greater glories. Salvation, and strength, and the kingdom 
of our God, and the power of his Christ even now begin 
to appear — even now is the accuser of the brethren 
taught to expect his future and final overthrow. With 
what transports, O Lord, did the blessed children of light 
set forth thy praises ! How did tlioy deem themselves in- 
vested with an increase of glory and felicity, when they 
were commissioned to minister to their Creator ! 



304 fiall's scripture history. 

Encouraged and succored by heaven, unconquered }>y 
all the malice of hell, our Savior goeth forth in the strength 
of the Lord God. He is fully prepared for that great and 
mighty work to which his own mercy and the will of his 
eternal Father had ordained him. The voice of him that 
ciied in the wilderness was heard there no longer. Al- 
ready was the gi'eat fore-runner of the ^Messiah cast into 
prison by the jealousy of a cruel tyrant, who afterwards 
spared not his life. From that time Jesus began to preach, 
and to say, ** Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand!" 

He who had been *' seen of angels," will now select his 
chosen followers from among mankind, as ministers and 
eye-witnesses of the word. Neither the great nor the hon- 
orable, nor the learned, nor the mighty, are called. The 
nobles and sages of Judea must resign this distinguished 
privilege to the humble fishermen of Galilee. 

As the sun at its first rising attracts all eyes by its radi- 
ance, so did the Sun of Righteousness when he first shone 
forth into the world. His miraculous cures brought pa- 
tients — his heavenly doctrine brought auditors — both uni- 
ted to call together the admiring multitude. Why do we 
not still follow thee, O Savior, whithersoever thou goest, 
that we may be healed, that we may be instructed 1 It 
was thine own prediction, that when thou wert lifted up, 
thou wouldst draw all men unto thee. Long since thou 
hast been lifted up as a sacrifice for our sins on thy cross 
— as the only begotten Son of God on the throne of thy 
glory. Thy word is still the same — it is equally effica- 
cious to enlighten the understanding and to remove the dis- 
eases of the soul. " Draw us, and we shall run after thee." 

The people not only follow Christ, but press upon him 
— delighted with his sacred word, they importunately 
throng around the speaker — they would not lose one ac- 
cent which may fall from his Hps. Yet doth not our Sa- 
vior check thie boldness of their zeal, but rather encoura- 



SIMON PETER CALLED. 305 

gea and applauds it. That the kingdom of heaven should 
be sought after with earnestness, disj^leases not him who 
speaketh unto every one of us in the tender language of 
a Father, "My son, give me thine heart !" 

Meanwhile the increasing multitude of auditors con- 
strains him to leave the shore, and to instruct them from 
a small ship which was Simon's, stationed on the adjoining 
lake. His Divine power, which had made the sea and 
the dry land, causes both to contribute to the benefit of 
his children. 

After a night of unsuccessful labor Simon was employ- 
ed in washing his nets, when he was honored with the pre- 
sence of the Savior of mankind. The fisherman, who had 
seen the people flock after Christ, who had heard him 
speak with so much power, could not but conceive a gen- 
eral and confused apprehension of some excellent worth 
in such a teacher, and therefore gladly receives into his 
ship this Messenger of salvation. A mind thus disposed 
was judged not unworthy of future honor — already is Si- 
mon prepared to be a disciple of Christ — already hath his 
fervent spirit devoted him to the service of his Redeemer. 

Blessed Lord, who shall fail of a recompence that min- 
isters unto thee 1 No sooner is thy seraion ended, than 
thou commandest the admiring fisherman to launch forth 
into the deep, and let down his nets for a draught. In thy 
miracles thou wouldst ever improve, not counteract the 
powers of Nature — thou wouldst meet her in her own 
bounds, and when she had done her utmost, wouldst 
supply the rest by thine omnipotence. The same power 
which could have caused the waters to retire and leave 
their treasures on the sands of the lake, commanded Si- 
mon to launch out into the deep. 

Rather in a desire to obey and gratify the prophet, than 
in hope of advantage to himself, the son of Jonas obeys — 
had Christ enjoined a harder task he would not have re- 
fused — now, though he had spent the night in unprofita- 



306 hall's scripture history. 

ble labor, the day shall witness his ready compliance. 
Often does the Divine providence, after disappointing our 
more sanguine expectations, give a blessing, at a time and 
in a manner we dared not even hope — '* When they had 
so done, they enclosed a great multitude of fishes, so that 
their net brake." 

Who would not obey thee, blessed Lord, since thou 
dost so bountifully requite our weakest services ? Yet 
didst thou not merely intend retribution in this event ; 
thou hadst in view the instruction of thy convert. The 
act itself was not without its spiritual signification. He 
v/ho should be made a fisher of men, in this draught fore- 
sees his success — '* The kingdom of heaven is like a net 
cast into the sea, which, when it is full, men draw to land,'* 
No sooner does Simon Peter the apostle preach Jesus and 
the resurrection, (after the descent of the Holy Spirit up- 
on his head,) than three thousand souls are added to the 
church of Christ. O powerful voice of the glorious Gos- 
pel, which can draw sinful men from the abyss of natural 
corruption into the blessed liberty of the childTen of God ! 
O happy souls, who when they hear the word of God, 
keep it, and bring forth fruit to life eternal ! 

Abundance is sometimes as troublesome as want — the 
net of Simon is broken by the draught of fishes — but he 
is not without assistance or relief. There cannot be a 
duty more incumbent on mankind, than that they should 
help each other in all honest and lawful industry. Where- 
fore hath God made us partners and associates, while on 
this troublous sea of mortality, but that we should give 
and receive comfort when requisite, that we should love 
as brethren, that we should rejoice with them that do re- 
joice, and weep with them that weep 1 

Simon well knew that this draught was not according 
to the laws of nature. Without regard to the sudden and 
unexpected advantage, he falls down at the feet of Jesus 
— turns his eyes from the act of the Author — acknow- 



SIMON PETER CALLED. 307 

ledges his own vileness, and our Sarlor's majesty — ** De- 
part from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord !" O Peter, 
thy Lord is come to call thee, and others, by thee, unto 
blessedness — and dost thou say, " Depart from me !" 
Surely it was the voice of astonishment, the voice of hu- 
mility, the voice of reverential fear, which proceeded from 
thy grateful lips. Because thou art a sinner, tl\ou art in 
need of a Savior — because thou dost acknowledge thy sin- 
fulness, Christ delights to abide with thee, and will re- 
ceive thee into his more immediate favor. Happy is that 
man who abases himself before God. O blessed disciple, 
thou couldst not more effectually secure the privilege af- 
forded thee, than by this meek confession of un worthiness. 
God resistetli the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. 
Complain of thine own infinnities, pour out thine heart to 
Him who knows its weakness, and thou shalt be satisfied 
with the abundance of his mercy. He whom thou lovest 
will not depart from a contrite spirit — ** Fear not ; I will 
make thee henceforth a fisher of men." 

Lo, this humility is succeeded by an apostleship — Si- 
mon pleads no longer his ignorance or insufficiency. 
Christ hath declared that his gi-ace shall be present with 
his servant, and what he hath promised he is able to per- 
form. Lord, how much skill, and labor, and patience is 
requisite for this spiritual calling ! Who can, without thine 
especial aid, discharge it to thy glory, to the edification of 
others, and to his own everlasting salvation ] All things 
are of thee, O God : give thy blessing to those who preach, 
and to those who heai' thy word — let the ministers and 
stewards of thy mysteries so prepare and make ready thy 
way, by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wis- 
dom of the just, that at thy second coming to judge the 
world we may be found an acceptable people in thy sight, 
and may enter into the joy of our Lord. Amen. 



308 hall's scripture history. 



64.— THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 

Our blessed Lord would now *' make full proof of his 
ministry." The draught of fishes, which had brought con- 
viction to the minds of those immediately concerned, and 
had increased the number of his followers, might yet have 
been accounted for by a reference to natural causes. The 
Son of God thought it good to manifest his glory by a mi- 
racle evidently beyond the powers of nature, that he might 
confinn the faith of his newly-called disciples, and that his 
works might bear witness that the Father had sent him. 

And was this thy first miracle, O Savior, that thou 
wroughtest in Cana of Galilee ] Hadst thou dwelt thirty 
years upon earth without making public demonstration 
of thine omnipotence ? Did thy Divinity so long remain 
shrouded in the retirement of an obscure province in 
Judea, unknown to that world thou earnest to redeem ?- 
Wouldst thou so long restrain the patient expectation of 
those, who since the appearance of a star from heaven had 
waited for the revelation of the Messiah 1 Alas, with what 
pomp of ostentation does the pride of mortals display their 
trivial excellence, while thou, who didst not receive the 
Holy Spirit by measure, art content in thine humble sta- 
tion, and concealest that power which made the world, in 
one of the cottages of Nazareth ! Which of all thy mira- 
cles is more worthy of astonishment than this demon- 
Btration of thy humility 1 

Yet while thy wisdom thought fit to withhold the mani- 
festation of thyself from the eyes of thy countrymen, thy 
blessed mother could not remain in ignorance. From the 
moment of thy birth she had kept and pondered in her 
heart the various proofs of thy pre-eminence and glory. 
No doubt the long season of thy retirement afforded her 
more convincing evidence, from day to day, that thou wert 
indeed the Chiist, the chosen of God. 



THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 309 

The first public display of Christ's almighty power 
graceth a maiTiage. It is an ancient and laudable custom, 
that this holy lite should not be without its due solemnity 
of celebration. He who gave his blessing to the union of 
our first parents in their paradise, bestows his first miracle 
on a Galilean marriage — he who authorized and sanctified 
the nuptial vow, by his holy presence docs honor to his 
own ordinance. Hapjiy are they, who, in this important 
act of their lives, place their best hope on the smiles of a 
gracious God. Thus is Christ even nov/ present with his 
faithful servants — his Spirit his gracious benediction come 
down upon his altar, and hallow the resemblance of his 
eternal union with his church. 

It was no rich or splendid festival, to which Christ (with 
his mother and his disciples) vouchsafed to come from the 
further parts of Galilee — probably some of the kindred of 
Mary had requested of our Savior to bless their nuptials 
with his attendance. We find him not at the magnificent 
banquets or sumptuous triumphs of the great — the pride 
and luxury of the world but ill agreed with the lowly con- 
dition he had chosen — he is present where the poverty of 
his host cannot furnish wine enough, even at a bridal-feast. 
Mary, in charitable compassion, and desire to maintain 
the decency of hospitable entertainment, inquires into the 
necessities of her friend, pities them, and will at least en- 
deavor to afford them relief When they wanted wine, 
the mother of Jesus saith unto him, *' They have no wine." 
She is aware of the necessitous state of a poor Israelite, 
and is studious to remove the cause of his anxiety. If our 
thoughts are solely fixed on our abundance, or even on 
our own indigence, to the neglect of others, we are not 
worthy to be called by the name of our Savior. 

To whom should complaint be made of want, but to 
the Maker and Giver of all things 1 The blessed virgin 
knew to whom she sued ; she was not unacquainted either 
with the power or the benignity of her son. No doubt 



310 hall's scripture history. 

the bridegi'oom, who " dwelt among his own people," 
might have procured among his friends and neighbors an 
adequate supply for the remainder of the feast ; but the 
liberal fountain of every good was present, and ready to 
afford that requisite assistance. A¥hither should we be- 
take ourselves, blessed Lord, in all our necessities, but to 
thine infinite munificence, which giveth abundantly to all 
men and upbraideth not ] We cannot want, we cannot 
abound, but with thy permission. Give us what thou wilt 
— teach us to be contented, and thankful for that which 
thou gives t. 

Jesus saith unto her, '-Woman, what have I to do with 
thee ? mine hour is not yet come." Though as a son he 
was in subjection to his earthly parent, he was still the 
assertor of his eternal glory — neither time nor method 
might be prescribed to him for any act of his omnipo- 
tence. Even the blessed virgin herself must be admon- 
ished, lest she presume on her natural authority by having 
recourse to it for things supernatural and divine. He 
whose mildness and condescension never dismissed a sup- 
pliant ungratified, would not frown on her who bare him ; 
he who had commanded us to honor and revere our pa- 
rents would not himself treat his mother with disdain. 
But with respect to his heavenly and spiritual nature, it 
was necessary that he should point out the limits, which 
no mortal, how highly favored soever, might be permitted 
to exceed. O blessed Mary, if in thy state of inefiable 
happiness thou dost notice what is 2:>assing here below, 
how dost thou pity and reject the presumptuous supersti- 
tion of vain men, whose invocations make thee a solicitor 
for blessings from above ! How falsely they do assert thy 
glory, who pay thee the homage which belongeth to God 
only ! How unwelcome are those honors which are sa- 
crilegiously taken from thy Redeemer and ours, the great, 
the only Mediator between God and man ! 

Even on that just and necessary rebuke the mother of 



THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 811 

Jesus can build a foundation of hope. If the hour of 
Christ's manifestation of himself was not actually come, 
it was not therefore far distant : when the expectation of 
the guests and the necessity of the occasion have prepared 
the way for the miracle, it shall he demonstrated to their 
joy and wonder. While she hears with reverence the 
words of her Son, she directs her speech to the attendants 
on the feast; "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." 
Obedience to the commands of Christ is a fit jircparation 
for our receiving the dispensations of his bounty. In the 
present instance, as in all others, his 2)ower was indepen- 
dent of his creatures : he could have wrought wonders 
had they refused to obey him, but their contumacy and 
pervcrseness might have prevented his miraculous favors. 
He who by his gi'ace enlightens the understanding, will 
not detract from the value of his gifts by subjecting them 
to the blasj^hemous scorn of the obdurate and rebellious. 

In the guest-chamber were six water-pots of stone, 
placed there for the jiurpose of outward purification. As 
if sin was merely external, and had not its seat in the in- 
most soul, the superstitious Jews imagined holiness to con- 
sist in frequent ablutions. Many less innocent traditional 
ceremonies had been engrafted on the simplicity of their 
ancient law. Water is made by Christ himself the em- 
blem of washing away sin, in token that the heart must 
be cleansed if we would find acceptance with God; and 
how shall this be effected but by means of that precious 
blood which taketh away the sins of the world ] Through 
the all-powerful efficacy of this fountain, opened for sin 
and for uncleanness, O Lord, renew a right spirit witliin 
us ; wash us, and we shall be whiter than snow ! 

The attendants hear with astonishment the command 
of Jesus to fill the water-pots with water. But the in- 
junctions of Mary, and their own sentiments of him whom 
they reverenced as a projihet and teacher of righteous- 
ness, led tlicm to obey with cheerfulness, and patiently to 



312 HALL*S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

wait the issue. O Savior, that mighty word which changed 
water into wine could at once have caused these vessels 
to overflow, as by some new creation ; but in all thy mi- 
racles thou didst gTound thy mighty works upon former 
existences : thou didst multiply the bread — thou didst 
cause the pool of Siloam to bring sight to the blind — thou 
didst restore the withered limbs. In the present instance 
thou didst that instantaneously which thine ordinary pro- 
vidence accomplishes by insensible degrees, according to 
the laws of vegetable nature. Thy bounty bringeth forth 
*' grass for the cattle, and herb for the service of man — 
that thou mayest bring food out of the earth, and wine 
that maketh glad the heart of man, and bread to strengtli- 
en man's heart." 

How liberal are the provisions of Christ ! How doth 
he display his munificence, his power, his mercy ! It is 
our sin and our shame if we abuse his favors by pervert- 
ing them to the purposes of riot and intemperance. He 
is ever attentive to the necessities and to the comfort of 
his creatures ; but he hath commanded no man to do wick- 
edly, neither hath he given any man license to sin. Whe- 
thei' we eat or drink, or whatever we do, we must do all 
to the glory of our God. 

There is a marriage to which wc are all invited, and 
wherein we are all most nearly interested ; there shall 
we not be guests only, but shall be "betrothed to our God 
in truth and righteousness." The sound shall go out into 
all lands, " Behold, the bridegroom cometh, go ye forth to 
meet him !" Even so come. Lord Jesus. In thy presence 
is the fulness of joy — at thy right hand there is pleasure 
for evermore. Blessed are they who are called to the 
marriage-supper of the Lamb. Amen, 



THE GOOD CENTURION. 



G5.— THE GOOD CENTURION. 

How vast, how extensive were the mercies of redeem- 
ing love ! With what gi*acious condescension did the Sa- 
vior of mankind receive those who came to him without 
any prejudice or partial exclusion ! Of a truth, O God, 
thou art no respecter of persons. In every nation he that 
feareth thee and worketh righteousness is accepted in thy 
sight. For he is not a Jew who is one outwardly, neither 
is that circumcision which is outward in the flesh ; but he 
is a Jew who is one inwardly ; and circumcision is that 
of the heart, in the spirit and not in the letter — whose 
praise is not of men, but of God. 

Even the bloody trade of war afforded disciples to the 
Prince of Peace. Amidst the Roman legions was found 
one who did homage to that Jesus whom so many Jews 
despised. If this centurion was an alien by birth, he wa3 
in disposition an Israelite indeed; he loved the nation 
which was chosen of God, and patronized the established 
worship, to which he was himself no mean benefactor. 
The brave and loyal servant of Caesar builds a sjmagogue 
to the honor of Jehovah. 

Desirous of procuring (in behalf of a faithful domestic) 
the benefit of those miraculous powers which already 
caused the fame of Jesus to be diffused throughout all 
Judea, the centurion approaches our ever-blessed Savior. 
He comes with no rude or importunate application, but 
in all the meekness of an humble suppliant. He avails 
himself of the intercession of his friends before he offers 
his petition in person : the elders of the Jews readily 
state the merits and pretensions of this zealous proselyte, 
and request oui' Lord's benevolent assistance. Meanwhile 
the pious Roman, to avoid all imputation of negligence, 
seconds their efforts with his own. Cold and fruitless aie 
the exertions of others, if our lips are silent where it most 

Script. Hist. 14 



314 hall's SCRIPTUItE HISTORY. 

becomes us to speak. Alas ! did we but address God for 
our own souls with that fervency wherewith the centurion 
sought relief for this his servant, when would our peti- 
tions fail of success ? But what marvel is it if God refuse 
to grant us his spiritual blessings, when we refuse to en- 
treat for them at all, or solicit them with cold and care- 
less indifference ? We have not, because we ask not ; we 
ask, and we receive not, because we ask amiss. 

Various were the characters and situations of those 
who resorted to Christ, imploring his charitable aid. One 
besought him for a son, another for a daughter ; here a 
good and liberal master offers his earnest supplications in 
favor of his servant stricken with the palsy. He first, 
with the tenderest compassion, provides all things for the 
sufferer's relief and comfort under his own roof, and then 
seeks to the Savior of mankind in humble but earnest en- 
treaty ; " Lord, my servant lieth at home, sick of the palsy, 
grievously tormented." Had the master been sick, the 
most faitliful servant could not have done more. He is 
unworthy of the benefits which arise from the services of 
those beneath him, vdio is unwilling to recompense those 
services by a generous protection and patronage. An ima- 
ginaiy superiority must not lead us to neglect the duties 
of christian charity ; w^hile we behold our servants on 
earth, we must remember that we have a Master in heaven. 

O that exery penitent and faithful heart would approach 
the Author of life, and earnestly implore his assistance ! 
" Lord, my soul is giievously tonnented by unbelief — by 
self-love — by vain and inordinate desires." It were unne- 
cessary to say more. The mercy of God would need no 
further entreaty, but would cheer the suppliant in the gia- 
cious lano^uao^e wherewith our Savior addressed this Ro- 
man proselyte — " I will come, and I will heal." 

Blessed Lord, what thou didst promise to one thou hast 
performed in behalf of all. We were sick unto death ; 
our sins had taken hold on us, and the life of grace was 



THE GOOD CENTURION. 315 

gone. Thou didst behold us from heaven, and, having 
found a ransom, thou earnest dow^n into this miserable 
world, and in thine own person didst vouchsafe to heal 
us. We shall not die, but live, and declare thy works, O 
Lord. O teach us to praise thee aright for that admirable 
mercy which thus abased thee, that so our humility may 
imitate thy condescension — that a sense of our own un- 
worthiness may lead us to form a just estimate of the 
wonders of love ! 

Christ would go down and visit the sick servant : the 
master of that servant saith, " Lord, I am not worthy that 
tliou shouldst come under my roof." The Jewish elders 
who had mediated for him dwelt on his merits ; when he 
comes to plead for himself he confesses, " I am not wor- 
thy." They saw in him one in authority, a founder of a 
synagogue, a patron of religion ; he waves all these spe- 
<;ious j^reteusions, and says, *' A^as ! Lord, I am not worthy. 
I am a Gentile, an alien, a man of blood ; thou art holy — 
thou art all-powerful." True humility teaches us to esteem 
the perfections of others, and to set no immoderate value 
on our own. Pride, on the contrary, shows us nothing 
but matter of admiration in ourselves— of contempt in 
those around us. While the good centurion thinks thus 
meanly of himself, his exalted faith teaches him to think 
aright of our blessed Savior's omnipotence ; *' Speak the 
word only, and my servant shall be healed." Nothing but 
a Divine power is unlimited ; that power is committed by 
the Father to the Son. At thy word, O Jesus, our sins 
shall be forgiven — our souls shall be healed — our bodies 
shall be raised from the grave — our whole man shall be 
translated to life everlasting. 

Whereupon was the steady confidence of this centurion 
grounded 1 He saw how powerful his own word was 
with those under his command, the force whereof extend- 
ed even to absent performances ; well, therefore, might he 
argue, that if a mere mortal found such ready obedience 



316 hall's scripture history. 

paid to his commands, the most obstinate disease must 
yield to the sujDreme power of the Messiah, Cheerful 
and dihgent service had obtained for the sufferer in ques- 
tion the favorable care of a benevolent master. Why do 
we forfeit our title to His favor to whom we owe all sub- 
mission and allegiance ! Alas ! when he commands us to 
*' do this," we do it not — if he prohibits us, we do it. He 
says, "Go from the world" — we fly to it. He says, 
" Come unto me " — we depart far from him. Alas ! this 
is not service, but enmity. How can we look for favor, 
while we return rebellion ? We have a gracious Master : 
there can be no duty of ours which he sees not — which 
he acknowledges not — which he cro\\nis not. We could 
not but be happy if we were obedient. 

He whose Divine grace wrought this faith in the cen- 
turion, api^roves it, not without expressions of wonder. 
When he first framed the heaven and the earth, he beheld 
with pleasure all things that he had made ; ^vith equal 
pleasure he contemplates the graces of a regenerate heart. 
Our wealth, our beauty, our wisdom, our learning, our 
honor may make us accepted by men, but it is faith only 
which exalts us in the sight of God. The gloiy of the 
Roman convert is the shame of Israel. Amidst all that 
once-favored people there had appeared no such example 
of virtue. We look for a plenteous harvest where the 
soil has received diligent cultivation ; if it be less fruitful 
than the untilled ground, how just is the disappointment 
and sorrow of the husbandman ! Our blessed Lord with- 
holds not this testimony from the people ; he utters it in 
their ears, that he may at once awaken their shame and 
emulation. In all things, save those of a spiritual nature, 
our self-love makes us impatient of superiors, and even 
of equals ; how can we with guilty complacency see others 
overtake us, and leave us at a distance, in the path which 
leads to heaven ! 

Christ, who had v\TOught this faith, disdains not to re- 



i 



THE widow's son RAISED. 317 

ward it : ** Go thy way ; and, as thou hast believed, so be 
it done unto thee." The master's piety brings liealth and 
deliverance to the servant. His cure is perfected at that 
very hour. O Savior, how powerful is thine intercession 
with thine almighty Father ! What can we want while 
thou art a Mediator for us ] In thee is our happiness, our 
health, our salvation, our glory. To thee, therefore, O 
mighty Redeemer of Israel, with the Father and the Holy 
Ghost, one God, infinite and incomprehensible, be all 
praise, and honor, and adoration, for ever and ever. Amen. 



66.— THE WIDOW'S SON RAISED. 

In what rapidity of succession were the favors of our 
beneficent Savior conferred upon mankind! He went 
about doing good, and healing all those who were op- 
pressed by sickness, sorrow, and even death itself; .for 
God was with him. No sooner has he called the centu- 
rion's servant from the bed of languishing, than he raises 
the widow's son from the bier. 

The fruitful showers are not ordained to fall all on one 
field. Nain must partake of the bounty of Christ as well 
as Cana or Capernaum. The sun diffuses light and glad- 
ness to all the world. The Sun of Righteousness does 
the same. 

The little city of Nain stood near Mount Tabor, under 
the hill of Hermon, whose refreshing dews (celebrated 
by the sweet Psalmist of Israel) afforded less delight than 
those blessings of which they w^ere significative — the doc- 
trine and miracles of our Savior. 

As our Lord approaches the city, accompanied by a 
great multitude of people as witnesses of his power and 



318 hall's scripture history. 

mercy, he beholds the mournful procession of a funeral. 
A widow, attended by her weeping neighbors, is follow- 
ing her only son to the grave. 

There was nothing in this spectacle which did not awa- 
ken compassion. He, whose unbounded pity devoted 
itself to the relief of all mankind, could not look on it 
without the tenderest emotions. Doubtless his own sa- 
cred eyes scarcely refrained from tears, while he enjoined 
the disconsolate mourner to cease from weeping. A youth, 
in the flower of his age, in the fulness of strength, and 
vigor, and beauty, torn away by the arm of death — what 
heart is so insensible as to be unmoved at such a spectacle ] 

But here was an aggravation of sorrow. It was the 
only son of his mother who was snatched to an untimely 
gi'ave. No condition whatever can make it otherwise than 
grievous to a parent to sustain this severe visitation of 
God; reason justifies, religion permits, our tears. Yet 
surely it is some mitigation of sorrow, when we can turn 
our eyes to those living objects of affection whom it may 
please the Divine mercy to continue to our love. How- 
ever we may lament our loss, we cannot but hope that it 
may be in some measure supplied by the survivors. But 
if all our joys and affections are centred in one, — when 
they must either live or die with an only child, — that 
stroke, if it take place, admits of no earthly consolation. 
When God would describe the most passionate expression 
of sorrow that can befall the miserable, the voice of inspi- 
ration thus addresses a wi-etched people : " O daughter 
of Jerusalem, gird thee with sackcloth, and roll thyself 
in ashes ; make lamentation and bitter mourning, as for 
thine only son .'" Such was the loss, such the soitow of 
this agonized mother ; neither words nor tears could suf- 
fice to do it justice. 

Alas ! had she been aided by the counsel and support 
of a husband, the burden had seemed less intolerable. 
Then might she have poured forth her anguish into a fond 



THE widow's son RAISED. 310 

and faithful bosom — she would not have borne the extre- 
mity of the conflict alone ; there had been one to mode- 
rate the frenzy of grief or to enliven its torpid melancholy. 
But even this consolation is denied her; the widowed 
mourner looks forward to nothing on this side the grave 
but solitary wretchedness ; all her hope, her happiness, 
lier comfort, the stay of her life is gone. 

And now, when she considers herself as desolate and 
forlorn, as a wretch past all capacity of redress or conso- 
lation, the God of all hope beholds, and pities, and re- 
lieves her. In the sight of all the people will he give a 
foretaste of that blessed day when he shall swallow up 
death in victory — when the Lord God shall wij^e away 
all tears from the eyes of his people. 

Here was no solicitor but his own compassion : in other 
cases either the sufferer in person or some tender and 
sympathizing friend implored his mercy. The centurion 
besought him for a servant ; the ruler for a son ; Jairus 
for a daughter ; a company of charitable friends and neigh- 
bors for the paralytic ; now Christ himself seeks to the 
mounier, and offers his all-powerful and unrequested aid. 
The Father of mercies knoweth our frame ; our sorrows 
are all in his sight, our afflictions are the most powerful 
suitors to his mercy. No tears, no lamentations can move 
him so much as his own Divine commiseration. O God, 
none of the distresses of thy children are hidden from 
thine eyes, none are absent from thine heart — they are in 
the book of remembrance before thee ; and when we seem 
past all hope, all possibility of help, then art thou nearest 
to us for deliverance. 

Concealment does not remedy but aggravate our wo. 
When the Son of God enjoins this sorrowing mother to 
refrain her voice from weeping, and her eyes from tears, 
he seems to her as demanding what humanity itself cannot 
comply with. Have words such efficacy as to dispel this 
justly-founded sorrow ? To bid her not weep who had 



320 hall's scripture history. 

lost her only son, was to persuade her to be miserable, 
and not to feel it — or else to withhold from her the sad 
privilege which nature hath given to affliction. But that 
she might know that the Son of Man had power even on 
earth to ransom us from the gi'ave, he saith unto those life- 
less remains, ''Young man, I say unto thee, Arise !" The 
Lord of life and death speaks with authority ; no finite 
being could have uttered this with success — without pre- 
sumption. This is the voice which hereafter shall call our 
vanished bodies from those elements into which they may 
have been resolved, and shall raise them from their dust. 
The deep and wide sea shall give up her dead — all the 
fetters of our mighty erxemy shall not detain our earthly 
tabernacles when God shall command them to be restor- 
ed. Why doth incredulous nature shrink from the diffi- 
culty of a resurrection, and deem it impossible, when the 
God of nature undertakes it 1 It is as easy for the almighty 
word, which gave being unto all things, to say, *' Let them 
be renewed," as, "Let them be made !" 

Our Savior speaks to the dead as if he were alive, and 
by that word restores him to life. Death has no power to 
detain that man whom God commands to ** Arise." Im- 
mediately he that was dead sat up. So, at the sound of 
the last trumpet, by the power of the same voice, we 
shall arise out of the dust, and stand up in glory — this cor- 
ruptible shall put on incon'uption — this mortal immortali- 
ty. The body shall never perish — it shall be sown, that 
it may spring up with increase of blessedness. How des- 
perate, how miserable would be our lying down, if it were 
not for this assurance of rising ! And now, lest our weak 
faith should stagger at this gi'eat mystery, by the present 
he gives assurance of the future. The power which can 
raise one man, can raise a thousand — can raise a world : 
no power can raise one, but that which is infinite — and 
how shall that which is infinite admit of limitation ? What 
state, what degi'ee of dissolution shall hinder the efficacy 



321 

of this supreme command 1 The daughter of Jairus arises 
from her bed — the youth at Naiu from his bier — Lazarus 
from his gi-ave — the saints at Jerusalem from their dust. 
Turn ye to the strong-hold, ye prisoners of hope — He that 
hath the keys of death can without difficulty pei-\'ade even 
the inmost recesses of those abodes of darkness. 

Behold the youth, miraculously awakened from his dead- 
ly sleep, opening those eyes which had been closed in 
night — descending from the bier — casting himself down, 
in gi-atcful transjjort, at the feet of his almighty Deliverer 
— adoring that Divine power which commanded back his 
soul to its forsaken mansion — uttering words of praise and 
wonder. Our Lord, who in this marvellous act had pitied 
the mother, and for her stike had raised the dead, delivers 
him into the hands of his enraptured parent. Who can 
paint the amazement and ecstasy of joy which diffused 
itself through the soul of that revived mourner when her 
son now salutes her, as from another world, imparting and 
receiving congratulation 1 How suddenly were all the 
tears of that mourning train exchanged into expressions 
of joyful astonishment ! How soon is that funeral pomp 
turned into a birthday feast ! What awful and admiring 
looks were cast upon that Lord of life, who in the midst 
of humility had approved liis omnipotence ! How gladly 
did every tongue celebrate both the work and the Author ! 
** A gi'eat prophet is risen up among us, and God hath 
visited his people." As yet they were not acquainted with 
God manifested in the flesh. This miracle might well 
have assured them that he whom they beheld was more 
than a propliet. Hereafter they shall be taught that the 
prophet who was now raised up to them was the God 
who now visited them ; even that God who in the last day 
shall display the same power to them and all the world, 
which he had now displayed in their sight — should recall 
them also from death to life — should speak to every one 
of them, " I say unto thee. Arise !" 
14* 



322 hall's scripture history. 

67.— THE RULER'S SON HEALED. 

Already had Cana in Galilee received abundant demon- 
stration of the power and goodness of God. There the 
Savior of mankind had manifested forth his glory, and 
confirmed the faith of his disci2:)]es by the first public evi- 
dence of his mission. Now^, being returned to the same 
highly-favored spot, he makes it the scene of another 
stupendous miracle, different in its nature, but equally 
decisive with the former. Before he graced a humble 
marriage festival ; now he sends comfort to the house of 
mourning, that he might teach us whither to have recourse 
in the hour of sorrow. 

How doth the goodness and munificence of God trans- 
cend that of man, even of those who amongst mortals 
are most loudly celebrated for their charitable actions ! 
His mercies are constant, progressive, infinite. He is not 
weary of well-doing ; his blessings, whether we consider 
their number or their magnitude, are beyond our imagi- 
nation to conceive. The coasts of Galilee already resound- 
ed with his praises, when behold ! other and yet gi-eater 
wonders call for new demonstrations of gratitude. Great 
and marvellous are thy works, O Lord God almighty; 
thou hast magnified thy name and thy word above all 
things. 

Seldom do we find persons of exalted station attendant 
on our Lord ; his comjDanions, his friends, his disciples 
were all selected from among the poor and the lowly ; but 
here one eminent in rank, abounding in all that life holds 
most desirable, is a petitioner for his dying son. Earthly 
greatness is no defence against afflictions. Disease and 
death make no exception in favor of the great ; they trem- 
ble not when they assail the mighty. Why should any 
complain or murmur at that common lot, that one event, 
which happeneth unto all mankind 1 



THE ruler's son HEALED. 323 

The rumor of our Savior's return from Judea into Ga- 
lilee soon reached the ears of the anxious father. Many 
seek to Christ in the day of their necessity, who in their 
prosj3erous fortunes were the followers of vanity, the 
slaves of ambition. Happy was it for this man that he 
was visited by the hand of God ; he had not else been 
made acquainted with his Savior — his soul had continued 
in ignorance and unbelief. For what purpose does our 
heavenly Father send us pain, sorrow, disappointment, 
opposition, but that we may throw ourselves into his arms 
for comfort ? Whither should we go in the day of adver- 
sity, but to that omnipotent Being, that Physician of souls, 
who healeth all our infimiities, that we may hereafter ex- 
claim with joy, " It is good for us that we were afflicted V* 

It was a day's jouniey from Capernaum to Cana in Ga- 
lilee. Thence did the nobleman come to our blessed Lord, 
to entreat him that the fever might depart from his son. 
How prodigal are we of labor in our researches after bo- 
dily health ! No way is long, no fatigue insupportable. 
Our souls, the best and dearest part of our existence, are 
oppressed by the malignant influence of unbelief and of 
self-love ; we are aware of this, and yet we remain in 
careless insensibility and see them languish unto death. 

This ruler was neither faithless nor believing. Had he 
been faithless, he would not so eagerly have sought after 
our Savior. Had he believed aright, he would not have 
formed so inadequate a judgment of the power of that 
"Word which is every where present and efficacious. As 
if Christ could not have healed his child unless he stood 
by the bed of languishing — as if he could not have re- 
called him even from the arms of death — " Master, come 
down, ere my child die !" 

How diiferent was the Roman centurion from this Jew- 
ish ruler ! The one came for his servant, the other for his 
son. The son is above the servant, but the faith which 
made intercession for the latter far excelled that which 



324 hall's scripture ihstory. 

approached our Lord in behalf of the former. The one 
exclaims, " Lord, come not under my roof, for I am not 
worthy — but speak the word, and my servant shall be 
healed " — the other insinuates, ** Come under my roof, 
or my son cannot be made whole." Shall not he then 
prescribe to us in what manner he will impart his favors 1 
Shall we presumptuously limit him to one certain system 
of conferring blessings on us ? How shall the all-wise 
God endure to be dictated to by his creature ] " Give us 
that which is needful for our souls and bodies " is a wise 
and lawful prayer — but *' Give us happiness by means of 
wealth, or honor, or prosperity, " is an unwarrantable in- 
trusion on God. In spiritual things, he has acquainted us 
with the means whereby he will work, even his OA\ni word 
and ordinances — upon these, because they have his pro- 
mise, we may confidently seek a blessing. In matters of 
a temporal nature we must commit our way unto the Lord, 
and resign ourselves to his all-wise dispensations. It is 
for us to receive, and not to appoint. 

He who came to seek relief for his son's sickness, hears 
of his own — ** Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will 
not believe !" This nobleman was of Capernaum — there 
had Christ often preached — there was one of his chief 
places of residence. This man therefore had often heard 
the doctrines of our Savior, unless he absented himself 
through prejudice and infidelity — and the miracles of Je- 
sus could not be unknown to him, at least on the attesta- 
tion of others — yet, in his application to Christ, he seeks 
the advantage of human skill and wisdom, not the pleni- 
tude of almighty power. Incredulity was the prevailing 
error among the Jews — it was a gloom which no ordina- 
ry light could dispel — they demanded wonders and por- 
tentous tokens from heaven. "An evil and adulterous 
generation seeketh after a sign." Had they not been wil- 
fully obdurate, they had already sufficient proof of the 
Messias, even of the kind they sought for. The circum- 



THE ruler's son HEALED. 325 

Stances attending on his own birth, and that of his fore- 
runner, the star, the journey of the sages, the voice of 
God at his baptism, what were these but signs and won- 
ders ] Yet their stubborn hearts will not accede to the 
truth, unless each individual see with his own eyes the 
wonderful works of God. Blessed are they that have not 
seen, and yet have believed ! 

The charge is awful and alarming — " Ye will not be- 
lieve !" Without faith there is no true repentance — with- 
out repentance, how shall we look for pardon 1 The ben- 
efits which had been offered to this dignified inhabitant 
of Capernaum had not yet taught him to work the works 
of God. Alas, the greater our light, the more culpable 
is our unbelief. What shall be our sentence if we stum- 
ble, in the clearest sunshine that ever beamed from hea- 
ven on any church or nation 1 Be merciful to our sins, O 
Lord — take away from us all ignorance, hardness of heart, 
and contempt of thy word. Keep it ever imprinted on 
the souls of thy people, that, without faith, it is impossi- 
ble to please thee ! 

Still, the mind of this anxious parent is fastened on his 
son. Our Savior tells him of his unbelief — he repeats 
his importunate petition — he complains of soitow — as 
yet he is not awakened to a sense of duty. O the meek- 
ness and tender mercy of our blessed Lord ! He implants 
in our hearts the fond affections of nature — he allows of 
their fervor — he pities, instead of condemning, their ex- 
cess — *' Go thy way — thy son liveth." What a word is 
this from those gi'acious lips v/hich even now liad accus- 
ed this suppliant of unbelief! ^Vho would not have ex- 
pected that some punishment would have fallen on the 
offender 1 that he would have departed in giief and dis- 
appointment unheard, and unanswered ? O Lord, if we 
measure our hopes by our own un worthiness we can liave 
no expectation of blessings — if we regard thy bounty and 
compassion, we can have no doubt of prevailing. How 



326 hall's scripture history. 

gently dost tliou deal with our perverseness ! The cries 
and petulance of the wayward infant serve but to excite 
the anger of strangers — the mother clasps him to her 
bosom. 

Yet while our Lord condescends to grant the petition 
of a doubting father, he refuses to go under his roof. For 
the trial and confirmation of his faith, he bids him depart, 
but assures him of the recovery of his child. Outward 
things caiTy no respect with God. The image of his Di- 
vine majesty shining inwardly on the soul, obtains his fa- 
vor, whatever be our state. The centurion's piety could 
do more than the ruler's gi'eatness — and the faithful man's 
servant was more regarded than the rich man's son. 

The ruler's request was, " Come and heal " — our Lord 
returns for answer, " Go thy way, thy son liveth." The 
mercy of God meets those in the end, whom he has tried 
by previous correction — graciously interprets our prayers 
— gives us what we desire at his own time, and in the 
manner which seemeth good in his sight. Justly doth he 
forbear to go down with this ruler, lest he should confirm 
him in the opinion that his power was merely local — but 
he performs that miracle in absence, for which his pre- 
sence was required, and gives a greater demonstration of 
his omnipotence than his petitioner had asked. How of- 
ten is he deaf to our will, that he may listen to our advan- 
tage ! The holy Paul would be fi-ee from temptation — lie 
hears of a fresh supply of gi^ace : the sick man prays for 
recovery, and hears of patience — for life, and is received 
to glory. 

The fever of the child, and the infidelity of the parent 
are vanished. Had not the nobleman gone home satisfied 
with the intimation of his son's life and recovery, how 
could he have expected any mercy or favor at the hands 
of God ? Now the news that the Divine promise is per- 
formed meets him on the way — and he who believed in 
part when he left Capernaum, and yet more as he return- 



MATTHEW CALLED. 327 

ed thitlier, now advances to higher degi'ees of faith, and 
diffuses it throughout the whole compass of his family. 
He who boasts of a full stature in the first moment of 
assent, may presume, but does not believe. 



68.— MATTHEW CALLED. 

Where is the boast of prejudice and superstition, when 
we see Matthew the publican called to be an apostle of 
Christ ? Who shall prescribe to the Author of our salva:- 
tion, or point out to him the proper instruiiients of his 
glory ? The other disciples, whose calling is recorded, 
were poor and humble fishermen : Matthew is taken from 
the receipt of custom to be both an apostle and evange- 
list. They were unlettered ; he by his very profession, 
stigmatized as base and infamous. The condition was not 
in itself sinful ; but while the taxes which the Romans 
imposed on God's free people were odious, the collectors 
of them were held in abomination, as persons devoted to 
oppression, cruelty and tyrannous exactions. Yet, behold, 
a publican called, from the actual discharge of his hated 
office, to be of the household and family of Christ. Jesus, 
as he passed by, said unto him, " Follow me." He dis- 
covered a disciple and a preacher of the truth in the veiy 
temple of avarice and extortion. Nothing can be hidden 
from his piercing eye, nothing can escape his all-powerful 
knowledge — he is a discerner.of the thoughts and intents 
of the heart. Blessed Lord, thou canst behold true piety 
and the love of virtue in the most abject situation ; thou 
canst detect hypocrisy, and pride, and all uncharitable- 
ncss, though glittering in the sunshine of prosperity. 

The real penitent is ever ready to accuse himself, and. 



328 hall's scripture history. 

seeks not to disguise or palliate liis offences. How do 
we hear the shame of our apostle recorded, but by his 
own mouth 1 Matthew the Evangelist speaks of Matthew 
the publican — the other historians of the Gospel distin- 
guish him by the name of Levi — he publishes the disgi*ace 
annexed to his past calling, in gi*ateful remembrance of 
the mercy wliicli had delivered liim. When we humble 
ourselves in the sight of God, then is he ready to exalt 
and lift us up. 

That voice, which spake to the astonished publican, 
*' Follow me," w^as the same all-powerful word which 
once said, "Let there be light!" and there was light. 
The omnipotent Savior, by the influence of his gi^ace, at- 
tracts the heart of his servant — " he arose, and follow^ed 
him." We are all by nature averse from thee, O God — 
lo, thou speakest, and we, instead of following thee, like 
this thy servant, remain in willing subjection to a sinful 
and miserable world. Yet cast us not away from thy 
presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from us. The 
heavenly voice may not ahvays address "us in vain — a 
time may come when we shall hear it speaking effectu- 
ally to our hearts — then shall we also arise and fol- 
low thee. 

How does the regenerate soul account the riches of 
this world as dross, in comparison with that better trea- 
sure, which fadeth not away, the prize of the high calling 
of God in Christ Jesus ! The called apostle at once aban- 
dons his profession (however lucrative) and follovrs his 
Redeemer in contented poverty. He foresaw, in that 
hajipy and honorable attendance, a more excellent, more 
enduring substance, which had great recompense of re- 
ward. If we hold any earthly possession so dear that 
we refuse to part with it for Christ, we are more fit for 
publicans than disciples. 

The blessed Jesus calls Matthew to be a disciple. Mat- 
thew presumes to invite his Lord to a feast. The plea- 



MATTHEW CALLED. 329 

sure of his designation to a better office causes him, ere 
he abdicate the world, to celebrate, as a festival, the day 
of his entrance on a new and spiritual life. Here was 
cheerful gratitude rewarded by Divine condescension. 
The new sei-vant bids his Master, the penitent, his Sa- 
vior — and is honored by his gracious presence. Not for 
thine own sake, O blessed Lord, didst thou, on this and 
other occasions, vouchsafe to hold converse with tliy 
creatures in the hour of their joy. Thy meat and drink 
was to do the will of thine eternal Father — in pursuit of 
thy work of mercy, thou wert ready to afford the benefit 
of thy conversation to the humble publican as well as the 
superstitious Pharisee. When thou wert with sinners, 
thou didst convert them-— when with converts, thou didst 
instruct and confirm them — when with the poor, thou 
didst feed them — when with the rich, thou didst impart 
more precious gifts than all the treasures of this world 
could bestow. Whither didst thou go, and not leave a 
blessing behind thee ] The bridegi'oon at Cana beholds 
the water miraculously converted into wine — Simon the 
Pharisee hath his table honored by the public forgiveness 
of a sinner, and the heavenly doctrine of the remission of 
sins. Salvation came to the house of Zaccheus with thee 
its Author ; thy presence made the chief of the publicans 
a son of Abraham — Matthew, already a disciple, is num- 
bered with the holy apostles — Martha and Mary enter- 
tain him, and besides Divine instruction, receive their bro- 
ther from the dead. O Savior, thou takest up thine abode 
in our hearts — thou dost receive us to thy spiritual ban- 
quet — in both is honor and blessedness. 

The public contempt had taught these receivers of cus- 
tom the lesson of unanimity — and led them to seek mu- 
tual comfort in that society which others held loathsome 
and contagious. At the table of his new convert our 
Lord beholds an assemblage of pubHcans and sinners — 
meeting together in the hope of that mercy which tlieir 



330 hall's SCniPTURE ihstory. 

associate had found — or perhaps invited by the disciple 
to be partakers of the plenteous grace which had been 
liberally afforded to himself O merciful Lord, who hast 
made all men, and liatest nothing that thou hast made, 
what sinner can fear to kneel before thee, when he be- 
holds thy gracious condescension 1 Who can fear to be 
despised by thy merciful benignity, which did not disdain 
to hold converse, even with the vilest of mankind ? Thou 
didst vouchsafe to cast an eye of pity on the malefactor 
expiring on his cross, on the sinner weeping at thy feet, 
on the Canaanite crying to thee by the way, on the blush- 
ing and contrite adulteress, on the perjured disciple, on 
the furious persecutor of thy Church, nay, on thine own 
executioners and murderers. How can we be unwel- 
come guests at thy table, if we come with hearty repent- 
ance, with steadfast faith in thy mercy, and full purpose 
of amendment in our hearts and lives ? " This is a faith- 
ful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Je- 
sus came into the world to save sinners.'" 

The envious Pharisees misinterpreted all the actions 
of our Lord. Where they should have admired his good- 
ness, they charge him, in the presence of his disciples, 
with impiety — " Why eateth your master with publicans 
and sinners 1" They durst not address our blessed Sa- 
vior himself, whose answer would at once have convicted 
their malice ; but they level their assaults where they 
will be most likely to do extensive mischief. We cannot 
reverence that man whom we think imj^ious. Christ had 
lost the hearts of his followers, if they could for a mo- 
ment have listened to these malevolent insinuations — 
"Can he be worthy of the name of a prophet, who is pro- 
fane ? Can he be otherwise than profane, who eateth 
with publicans and sinners ]" Proud and senseless Pha- 
risees, ye fast in your houses, while Christ eats with sin- 
p^ers — but if ye fast from pride, while he eats in humili- 
ty ; if ye fast for applause or popularity, while he, at liis 



MATTHEW CALLED. 331 

repast, seeks the edification and conversion of offenders ; 
your fast is unclean — his feast is holy — ye shall have your 
portion with hypocrites, when he shall come in glory, 
and call those souls to joy which have been purified by 
repentance. 

When these wicked censurers thought the disciples 
had oflended, they spake, not to them, but to their mas- 
ter — " Why do thy disciples that which is not lawful I" 
Now, when they judge our Lord to have transgi'essed, 
they speak, not to himself, but to his followers. They 
leave no expedient untried to bring dissension into the 
family of Christ, and to check the progi'ess of the Gospel. 
Meanwhile the omnipotence of our Savior hath discerned 
the thoughts and intents of the hearts, and his voice an- 
swers concerning himself — " They that be whole have 
no need of a physician ; but they that are sick." The in- 
solent Pharisees over-rated thsir o"vvn holiness, and joass- 
ed ready condemnation on the lives of others — as if them- 
selves were untainted by secret sins — as if others were 
incapable of pardon. The Almighty beholds arrogance, 
and finds the judges worthy of punishment, the accused 
not unworthy of remission. The sickness of these sin- 
ners is less desperate than the health of their haughty 
censurers. Every soul is sick; those most, who feel it 
not. They who feel it, complain — they who complain, 
are healed. The wretch, who is on the verge of eternity, 
is insensible of pain, because the killing mortification is 
actually begun. 

O blessed Physician, by whose stripes we are healed 
— by whose death we live — happy are they who betake 
themselves unto thee. With thee is the fulness of wis- 
dom, and power, and mercy — make thou us sensible of 
our sins ; we are then as safe as thou art gracious. " Art 
thou not from everlasting, O Lord God, our Holy One ? 
We shall not die, O Lord — for we are thine, thou lover 
of souls !" 



332 hall's scripture history. 



69.— T HE GADARENES. 

While the unwearied mercy of God provides inces- 
santly for our good, the powers of darkness are indefati- 
gable in their attempts to do us evil. Their malice, 
were it not controlled by God, would give us not a mo- 
ment's intermission — the world would be full of nothing 
but sin, and sorrow, and torment. But blessed be the 
Lord, whose omnipotence hath limited and restrained the 
power of our enemies — blessed be our strong Helper, 
who hath not given us over for a prey unto their teeth. 
They are mighty, and rage horribly ; but yet the Lord, 
who dwelleth on high, is mightier. 

" When our blessed Savior had passed over the lake, 
immediately there met him out of the tomb a man with 
an unclean spirit." 

The fetters wherewith this wretch had been bound by 
the charity of his friends, were no sooner fastened on 
him than they were broken — he escapes into the wilder- 
ness, carried thither by the resistless impulse of roaring 
insanity, transported by his tyrannous inmate to a place 
of gloomy desolation, that he might be out of the capa- 
city of all relief and comfort. 

There is no misery incident to human nature Vv'hich 
is not known and pitied by our gracious Redeemer. 
Without entreaty, either from the miserable sufferer him- 
self, or even from any charitable friend, the God of sj^ir- 
its takes pity on his distress, and commands the mali- 
cious adversary to depart from him. O mercy, that antici- 
pates our requests, that exceeds our thoughts, that forces 
benefits on our state of helplessness, that does for us 
more than we ask or feel our need of! If men, upon 
our earnest entreaty, afford their aid, we praise and ad- 
mire their bounty — but thou, O God of all goodness, art 
more ready to hear, than thy creatures to pray unto thee. 



THE GADAPvENES. o33 

And is thy loving-kindness impaired by thy glory ? If 
thou wert thus compassionate upon earth, art thou not 
equally so in heaven 1 How dost thou, at this moment, 
behold with the tenderest pity all our sorrows, all our in- 
firmities ! How does thy grace, in the midst of our sever- 
est afflictions, give us a way to escape, that we may be 
able to bear it ! What evil can befall us, which thou dost 
not behold from thy heaven, and feel, and relieve ? 

The poor demoniac is compelled to give utterance to 
the horrors wherewith the presence of Jesus affected 
the malignant spirit — " I beseech thee, torment me not." 
Guilt would fain escape out of sight — never is it so ap- 
palled and confounded as when it beholds the radiant 
face of innocence. Sataix had learnt by experience how 
fruitless it was to enter the lists against the Son of God 
— he stood before our Lord with that grief and conster- 
nation which will hereafter overwhelm his wretched vo- 
taries, when they shall say to the mountains, " Fall on 
us!" and to the hills, "Cover us!" That proud spirit, 
which had once presumptuously demanded adoration 
from the Messiah, now casts himself down at his feet v.'ith 
servile and abject gestures of submission. AVho shall 
value himself on the mere external homafje of lifeless 
superstition or hypocrisy, when he sees Satan himself fall 
down and worship 1 In the outward demeanor is the 
body of devotion — in the disposition of the mind, the sou! 
of it. True religion unites these in the homage which 
the christian pays to God — how different is that homnge 
from the counterfeit prostrations of evil men and evil 
spirits I The sincere believer serves the Lord in fear 
and rejoices in trembling. He adores that heavenly 
Master, in whose supremacy is his comfort and protec- 
tion. His duty is the duty of a son, not that of a slave. It 
is fear enlivened with joy, and joy attemj^ercd by fear — 
tvhereas the service of devils, and their ministers on 
earth, is only an act of form or of constraint, as to their 



334 HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

Judge — as to their tormentor — not as to their Lord : in 
mere hypocrisy, not in reverence — in gloomy melancholy, 
without all delight — in a perfect horror, without capa- 
city of joy. 

But in what terms do we hear the confession of the 
apostate spirit ] " I beseech thee, O Jesus, Son of the 
most high God!" A confession, which (if we knew not 
its author) we should attribute to some faithful convert, 
or some adoring saint ! That name, which was announced 
by angels, is invoked by devils. That great and awful 
name, at the recital of which ** every knee shall bow, in 
heaven, in earth, and under the earth,'" is called on with 
eager importunity by this prostrate adversary. He be- 
lieves and trembles ; and what he believes he confesses. 
It was reserved for infidels to deny what hell itself is 
not presum23tuous enough to question. Yet how little 
can mere speculation avail us in matters that concern 
our souls 1 If charity edifies not, knowledge only serves 
to allure us to our destruction. If there be not a sense 
of our interest in this Savior, if we have not gi'ace and 
disposition of mind to apply to ourselves his merits, and 
reap the benefit of his atonement, we attain no ease, no 
comfort ; we are neither safer nor better ; we are only so 
far enlightened as to understand who shall be our Judge. 

It is for none but God to hold converse with Satan. 
He, who might touch the leprosy without legal un- 
cleanness, because he touched to heal, might safely speak 
to that enemy whom he sought to overcome. Our in- 
firmity cannot do this without sin, because we cannot do 
it without danger. Be it our care to fly from this une- 
qual conflict — and if the spirit of disobedience endeavor 
at a conference with us by his secret temptations, let us, 
with the Archangel, (see Zech. 3 : 2, Jude, 5 : 9,) at 
once commit ourselves to Jehovah for our defence ; let 
us, with the royal prophet, exclaim — " Depart from me, 
ye wicked — I will keep the commandments of God." 



THE GADAIlEXES. ^ 335 

What a combination is there among the powers of 
darkness ! What wonder is it, that wicked men conspire 
in evil, that there is such unanimity among the enemies 
of Christ, when devils themselves are one, in act, in title, 
in habitation ? " My name is Legion— for we are many." 
Alas, how doth it behove the servants of God to unite 
themselves together in a communion of saints ? If armed 
troops assault a single warrior, what hojje has he of life 
or victory ? All our forces are necessary to make head 
against this league of destruction. Our enemies come 
upon us like a torrent — O let us not be separate, like 
drops which fall into the dust ! 

How fearful is the consideration of the multitude of 
apostate angels ! If a Iqgion can attend one man, how 
many are they who are dispersed over the world for the 
punishment of the wicked, the benefit of God's cliildren, 
the trial of both ! There is no place, no time, wherein 
we may be secure from the onsets of these enemies. 
The wicked shall not want furtherance to evil, the good 
shall not want combatants in their christian warfare. 
Awaken your courage, stir up your hearts, make sure 
the means of your safety, ye servants of Christ. Yet are 
there more and mightier with us, than against us. The 
God of heaven is with us, if we are with him — and our 
guardian angels behold the face of God. If every malig- 
nant spirit were a legion, we are secure in his omnipo- 
tence. Though we walk through the valley of the sha- 
dow of death, we shall fear no evil — he shall stretch 
forth his hand against the furiousness of our enemies, 
and his right hand shall save us. 

The malice of these powers of darkness extends itself 
over the whole creation. When the almighty word of 
our blessed Savior commanded the evil spirits to depart 
from the present object of their cruelty, they sought per- 
mission to enter into a herd of swine, then feeding near 
the mountains. If they may not vex the body of man, 



336 hall's scripture history. 

tliey will destroy Lis possessions. Any way, every way, 
they seek our misery. But if it be fearful to think how 
great things evil spirits can do with permission, how are 
we revived by the thought, that they can do nothing 
without permission ! Their enmity would destroy the 
whole world — more especially, mankind — most of all, 
christians — yet if without authority from God they can- 
not assault even a senseless beast, what can they do to the 
living images of their Creator ? They are' not able to 
suggest one thought to our hearts, but under the permis- 
sion of our Savior. He doth not afflict willingly, nor 
grieve the children of men. He sends us to the contest, 
that we may reap the glories of the victory. Having 
shed his own most precious blood to save us from 
evil, he will not give us over into the power of our 
enemies — when we sit in darkness the Lord will be 
a light unto us. 

No sooner are the spirits departed from the man than 
they enter into the swine — and suddenly, with impetuous 
speed, the whole herd run violently into the sea, and 
perish in the waters. And was this not written for our 
sakes 1 For our sakes, no doubt, this was written. AVhy 
vrill not our zeal to do good keep pace with the activity 
of others to do evil ? 

The Gadarenes hear all that has been done, and, in- 
stead of expressing joy or gi'atitude at the act of heavenly 
power and mercy which had restored their miserable 
neighbor, they make supplication with one voice to Je- 
sus, that he would depart out of their coasts. AVhat mis- 
erable and pernicious misconstructions do men make of 
the Divine attributes and actions 1 With what ingenious 
sophistrj^ do they deceive their own souls, that they may 
rob themselves of God? " He is omniscient — why should 
I pray 1 He is provident — why may not I be careless 1 
He is merciful — why should I not offend 1 Foolish men 
say unto the Almighty, " Depart fi'om us — for we desire 



THE WOMAN OF CANAAJT. 337 

not the knowledge of thy ways." O Savior, how worthy 
are they to be deprived of thy presence who sohcit thy 
departure ! Thou hast just cause to be weary of us, even 
when we seek thy face — but when our wretched un- 
thankfulness grows weary of thee, who can wonder that 
we are abandoned to ourselves ] Yet leave us not, nei- 
ther fjrsake us, O God of our salvation — even thy chas- 
tisements are mercies, when compared with the horror 
of rejection — even thine anger is less insupportable than 
thine absence ! 



70.— THE WOMAN OF CANAAN. 

Not only the palaces of the great, but the cottages of 
the poor, are gilded by the radiance of the sunbeam. 
The miracles of our blessed Savior, during his ministry 
on earth, were not confined within the limits of his pecu- 
liar people — that perfect light shone upon all — none 
were excluded. Though his mission principally regard- 
ed Judea, as far as related to his personal residence, he 
would sometimes extend the influence of his power and 
mercy to the Gentile world. Departing into the coasts 
of Tyre and Sidon, he finds a woman of Canaan oppress- 
ed with intolerable anguish, and stretches forth his hand 
for her relief- 
It was long since the name or nation of Canaanites had 
been mentioned in the world. All the country of Pales- 
tine had been once so styled, but the people were now in 
a manner forgotten. Yet this woman, as descended fi-om 
those Phoenicians who were anciently expelled out of 
Canaan, is called by the name of her parent-nation. God 
would magnify his own mercy, and shame the ingratitude 
of his rebellious people — a faithful Canaanite is a suppli- 

Script. Iliet. 15 



338 hall's scripture history. 

ant to Christ, while the Jewa despised and neglected so 
great salvation. 

The unhappy mother did not speak without the most 
A'ehement expressions of sorrow. Affection raised her 
voice to an importunate clamor. The God of mercy de- 
lights in these impassioned solicitations of penitence and 
faith. Words and not prayers go forth out of careless 
and feigned lips. If we feel our wants, we shall express 
them in the animated language of real supjDliants. If we 
would prevail with God, we must address ourselves to 
the throne of grace with all the fervor of our souls. 

In her application to our Savior for his pity and assist- 
ance, we find an abstract of that faith which it is tlie 
christian's duty to keep inviolate, as the foundation of 
his dearest hope. ** Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou 
Son of David !" What proselyte, what disciple could have 
said more 1 What does she confess, but the divine and hu- 
man nature united in the one Messiah — his divinity, as 
Lord — his humanity as the Son — both, as the Son of 
David 1 To Abraham was promised a blessing on his 
posterity — to David perpetual dominion. The woman 
of Canaan, in addressing our Lord by this title, proclaims 
him the everlasting King of his church, the Rod which 
should proceed from the stem of Jesse, the ti'ue and only 
Savior of the world. He who thus approaches Christ, 
approaches him not in vain. " God hath given us an un- 
derstanding, that we may know him that is true — and we 
are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. 
This is the tiTie God, and eternal life." 

Being thus acknowledged, he is entreated to show mer- 
cy. The daughter of the suppliant, not herself, was tor- 
mented — but she says, ** Have mercy on me.*^ Perhaps 
the child was senseless of misery — the parent feels a 
double portion of soitov/. It was this affliction which 
sent her to Christ. We cannot have a better advocate 
than our own calamity : unassisted, it sues, and pleads, 



THE WOMAN OF CANAAN. 339 

and importunes for us with God. That which too often 
disgusts and discourages men, whose compassion is finite, 
attracts him to us, whose loving-kindness endureth for 
ever and ever. " O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest 
and not comforted, in a httle wrath I hid my face from 
thee for a moment ; but with everlasting kindness will I 
have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." 

But neither the strength of our faith, nor the sincerity 
of our obedience, can secure us against bodily and tem- 
poral affliction. All Israel could not afford a parallel to 
the zeal and devotion of this Canaanite — yet was she tor- 
mented in her daughter. Against inward and spiritual 
diseases religion affords us an unfailing antidote — other 
chastisements, though grievous in appearance, may be 
salutary in the event. Our heavenly Father makes use 
of various means to promote one important end — the 
eternal salvation of mankind. When the messenger of 
Satan buffets us, it is enough that God hath said, " My 
gi'ace is sufficient for thee." 

To the prayer of faith and humility offered at the feet 
of the Savior of mankind, what might have been expect- 
ed but an immediate and satisfactory reply ] Yet, be- 
hold, "he answered her not a word." Whence, O Lord, 
was this unaccustomed silence 1 An unhappy mourner 
implores thy mercy — thou, the God of mercy, art sneech- 
less. Couldst thou do otherwise than pity, and regard 
her 1 She could never have said, " O Lord, thou Son of 
David," but from thee — No man calleth Jesus Lord, but 
by the Holy Ghost. But it seemed good to thy Divine 
wisdom to make trial of the patience of this thy servant 
— and while her fervent prayers were no less welcome 
to thee than the adoration of angels, thou wouldst seem 
as if thou didst not hear, or at least regard them. When 
we have sent up our petitions to the throne of mercy, 
happy are we, if we receive an immediate answer of 
peace — but if the blessing is sometimes delayed, let us 



340 hall's SCRIPTIRE HISTORY. 

not therefore abandon ourselves to despair — let us not 
imagine that our prayer is ineffectual, or that CTod is 
deaf to our entreaties. A faithful suitor in the present 
instance addresses a gracious Savior — and yet he answers 
her not a word. If we are poor in Sj^irit, God is rich in 
mercy — he cannot, he will not send us away empty — but 
he will teach us the lesson of duteous perseverance ; and 
oppose our will, that he may advance our benefit. 

In consequence of our blessed Lord's silence, his dis- 
ciples are moved to pray for this afflicted parent. They 
approach their INIaster, not requesting her dismission — 
that had been no favor, but a grievous punishment. If to 
be held in suspense be miserable, to be sent away with 
a repulse is aggi'avation of sorro^v. They rather implore 
him to extend his wonted mercy, and to grant her the 
desire of her heart. They saw her grief — they were ac- 
quainted with its cause — they admired her faith and con- 
stancy, and became suitors for her, unrequested. It is 
our duty, in all cases of necessity, to intercede for each 
other with God — to approach him with earnest supplica- 
tions for the relief of the distressed. We are command- 
ed to say, " Our Father" (not my Father) " which art in 
heaven !" That man cannot pray, or be heard for him- 
self, who offers not his petition for others. No prayer 
hath efficacy without faith — no faith without charity. 

Christ, who spake not to the woman, answers his dis- 
ciples — but who shall decide, whether the silence or the 
reply were most grievous? "I am not sent but to the 
lost sheep of the house of Israel." What is this but a 
defence of his apparent neglect ? — a proof that it was by 
no means casual, but purjjosely designed ? While he re- 
mained silent he might have been supposed to be occu- 
pied with higher thoughts — now his answer tends to 
drive away even the shadow of hope. Like a faithful 
aml>assador, he has regard to his commission. He who 
in the mysterious conflict with the patriarch (see Gen. 



THE WO.AIAN OP CANAAN. 341 

32 : 24-32,) had clianged his name and dismissed him 
with a blessins:, will not foro-et his old lovino^-kindncss to 
the house of Israel. Till their Divine Shepherd came 
down from heaven, the sheep of his pasture (a prey to 
tyranny and superstition) had neither food nor protection 
— they wandered, and were lost. O blessed Savior, we 
gee thy charge — thou art sent to the humble and contrite 
heart, not to those who are securely fenced in their own 
vain confidence — thou art sent to sheep — to sheep that 
are lost. He is not a Jew who is one outwardly. Every 
Israelite is not a true one. Thou wilt not brino: us back 
to thy fjld, if we be not lost in our own apprehension. 
O make us so sensible of our own wanderings, that we 
may know, and feel, and rejoice in that mercy which 
recalls us unto thee ! 

And will not the wretched mother now desist from her 
importunity ? Will neither the silence of Christ nor his 
denial put an end to her entreaties ? Could she have one 
glimpse of hope after a repulse like this? Still, as if she 
saw no cause of discouragement, she comes, and worships, 
and cries, "Lord, help me!" No refusal, no contempt 
can cast her off. True faith is steadfast and unmoveable. 
The woman of Canaan approached our Lord, not to mur- 
mur, but to expostulate — to pray — to prostrate herself at 
his feet. She saw that divinity in our blessed Savior 
which bowed her to the earth — before, she had confessed 
him with her mouth ; now, she bends the knee before 
him. There cannot be a fitter posture for mortals in 
their supplications to God. 

Still the constancy of this servant of Christ must en- 
dure a fiercer flame. *'It is not good to take the chil- 
dren's bread and to cast it unto the dogs." How difte- 
Tcnt are the ways of heaven from those of men ! Even 
this severity argues favor. O Lord, the trial had not been 
so sharp if thou hadst not found the faith of thy suppliant 
strong, and designed her a happy issue to her sufferings. 



342 hall's scripture history. 

Behold the triumph of pious humility ! " Truth, Lord — 
yd the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's 
table. Thou art truth itself, and thy words are the words 
of truth. Yet however despicable my condition, admit 
me to this favor and privilege, that I may partake, at an 
humble distance, of that mercy which thou dost bestow 
60 liberally on thy children. The blessing I require, 
though great to me, is as nothing to thine infinite power 
and goodness. I presume not to press to thy board — 
give me this boon, and I shall retire with transports of 
gi-atitude." 

Never was such zeal and piety unrewarded. "O wo- 
man, great is thy faith — be it unto thee even as thou wilt 
— and her daughter was healed in the self-same hour." 

We cannot be more precious in the sight of God than 
when we humble our souls before him. Nothing is ob- 
tained by vain ostentation — nothing is lost by lowly self- 
abasement.* O God, when, from the consideration of thine 
holiness, thy purity, thine omnipotence, we turn our eyes 
to our own vileness and imperfections, how shall we ex- 
press our shame and confusion ! O let us acknowledge 
our infirmities to thee, who canst pity, forgive, redress 
them — so setting ourselves down on the lowest seat at 
thy table, that thou, the great Master of the feast, mayest 
in thine own good time advance us to the height of glory. 
Amen. 



71.— Z AC CHE US. 

Our blessed Savior "went about doing good" — wis- 
dom, truth and mercy were ever his companions. If the 
duties of his sacred office call him from place to jilace, in 



ZACCHEUS. 343 

his progress he will difiuse the knowledge and faith of 
God, and afford comfort, instruction, deliverance to man- 
kind. The good Shepherd, who came to seek and to 
save that which was lost, is unwearied in his endeavors to 
bring back the wanderers into the fold. In his way from 
Galilee to Jerusalem, he betows the light of his heavenly 
doctrine on the inhabitants of Jericho, and brings salva- 
tion to the house of the humble Zaccheus. 

The conversion of a sinner cannot fail of affording joy 
and exultation to every faithful heart. To see men per- 
verted from God to the world, from truth to error, fi"om 
piety to irreligion, is both common and lamentable — but 
the return of the penitent to the path of life, the adoption 
of a wretched transgressor into the glorious inheritance 
of the children of God, is a subject of delight even to tlie 
blessed angels. 

The name of publican was in itself a term of abhor- 
rence. So highly did the Jews regard their freedom, that 
every impeachment of it seemed an unpardonable crime. 
They questioned not merely the expediency, but even 
the legality of paying tribute to the Roman emperors. 
Matthew, 22 : 17. To a people so impatient of the yoke, 
any office of exaction must of necessity be grievous — 
more particularly where the avarice and extortion of the 
officers appointed for that purpose rendered the impost 
of Caesar doubly odious. Even wealth itself, thus ac- 
quired, failed of procuring a publican the respect and 
affection of his countrymen. They considered the office 
as an exclusion from the privileges of the sons of Jacob — 
they who filled it were ranked with heathens, with the 
vilest of sinners, with strangers from the covenant of 
promise. Yet from this perilous and unhallowed traffic 
^Matthew is called to be an apostle and evangelist, and 
Zaccheus, the chief of the publicans, to be an eminent 
disciple of our Lord. 

When the fame of Christ diffused itself throug-hout the 



344 hall's scripture history. 

city of Jericho, Zacclieus was earnestly desirous to behold 
the mighty Prophet. Curiosity, rather than faith, at first 
led him to this interview. The rumor of those astonish- 
ing miracles which exalted our Savior above mankind 
induced this publican to seek his presence — and the 
mercy of God gave occasion to the belief, and conver- 
sation of a penitent. 

And can we wonder at the eagerness wherewith Zac- 
cheus surmounted all difficulties, that he might attain the 
object of his wishes 1 What glorious scene could the 
world exhibit comparable with the sight of the Messiah 1 
The aged Simeon wished this spectacle to close his eyes, 
as if he deemed it no less than disparagement to look on 
ought after it ; and prayed to depart in peace, having 
seen the salvation of God. The father of the faithful, at 
the distance of almost two thousand years, saw his day, 
and was glad. The great Apostle of the Gentiles speaks 
of this as his most signal distinction — " Have I not seen 
Jesus Christ our Lord V* Blessed Savior, if to behold 
thee on earth is the subject of exultation, what shall be 
their joy who shall not only be admitted to see, but to 
partake of thy glory in heaven 1 Even now, though 
the eye of faith be dim, yet it is sure. O Lord, teach us 
to covet eamestly the best gifts — teach us to aspire after 
those regions of bliss where we shall see thee as we are 
geen — where we shall know thee as we ourselves are 
known. 

The streets of Jericho are thronged by the assembled 
multitude — here were many beholders, but few disciples. 
If gazing, if profession, were godliness, how many would 
be numbered among the children of God ! But vainly do 
we boast of our forwardness to see and hear the Savior 
of mankind, if we receive him not into our hearts with 
sincerity and truth. '' If a man love me, he will keep my 
words — and my Father will love him, and we will come 
unto him, and make our abode with him." 



ZACCHEUS. 345 

The crowd hides Christ from Zaccheus, Alas, how 
common a thing is it, hy the interposition of the world, 
to be kept from the siglit of our Lord ! In vain shall we 
hope for the blessed vision of God, if we follow a multi- 
tude to do evil. Let us escape from all sun-ounding 
obstacles, all tumultuous cares, and press forward with 
ardent expectation towards the prize of the high calling 
of God in Christ Jesus. 

Zaccheus, disappointed of the object of his wishes 
climbs up into a sycamore tree to see Jesus. O Savior, 
how adorable is thy mercy towards the contrite and hum- 
ble spirit! Who ever sought thee with a faithful heart, 
and was disappointed? The eye of the Lord is upon the 
righteous — and lighteousuess is by his mercy imputed to 
the jDenitent. How v/as Zaccheus astonished to hear him- 
self called by name, addressed with kindness and familia- 
rity by the Redeemer of mankind ! He who telleth the 
number of the stars — He who (addressing his chosen 
people) saith, **I have called thee by thy name, thou art 
mine," can speak peace and comfort to this descendant 
of Abraham, however the pride of superstitious bigotry 
might hold him in derision. " Zaccheus, make haste and 
come down, for to-day I must abide in thine house." O 
Savior, what dost thou every day to thy servants, but in- 
vite thyself to them in thy word and ordinances. Who 
are we, O God, that we should entertain thee, or that 
thou shouldst vouchsafe to bless us with thy presence '? 
Thy condescension and mercy are exalted even by our 
unworthiness. Though we are sinners, thy voice speak- 
eth unto us as unto children. Lord, we love thee because 
thou hast first loved us ! 

Can we wonder that Zaccheus descended with haste ? 
that he welcomed the Messiah with grateful joy 1 that he 
celebrated as a festival the coming of his sacred guest ? 
Had we been in liis stead, how would our liearts have ex- 
ulted at the presence of our Savior ! How should we have 

15* 



346 hall's scripture history. 

recorded the incomparable happiness of that day in which 
the Lord of heaven was an inmate under our roof ! Even 
now, in a spiritual sense, we can receive him into our 
liearts ; we can prepare him an habitation for himself — 
unworthy indeed, but such as he will not despise nor 
reject: there let us implore him to take up his abode till 
he calls us in return to those blissful habitations, the 
dwelling-place of his holiness and' glory, to remain with 
him, not for any limited season, but through the countless 
ages of eteiTiity. 

While the publican was thus filled with joy, discontent 
rankled in the hearts of the Pharisees, Pride, envy, 
superstition, ignorance, combined to awaken this tumult 
in their souls. Their eye was evil, because Christ was 
good. Though none of them contested with Zaccheus 
the distinguished honor of welcoming our Lord to the 
offices of hospitality, they murmur at this unworthy host. 
They deem the privilege which themselves neglected 
too gi'eat for a sinner — the very mercy and condescension 
oXour Lord is to them an aggravation of torment. 

It is true, the sins of Zaccheus had been notorious — 
theirs, shrouded under a veil of secrecy. The idea of 
that secrecy leads them to insult one whose transgressions 
were written on his forehead. It is no less unjust than 
dangerous, to look at the offences of others with scorn, 
at the moment when we should behold our own with sor- 
row and humiliation. 

Thus they stumbled and fell — but Zaccheus arose. 
All their malignant insinuations could neither diminish 
his joy nor abate the ardor of his piety. Never was 
our Savior better welcomed. The penitent publican, 
from this auspicious moment, renounces all violence and 
extortion. Justice and liberality are the handmaids of 
faith. Gifts shall be bestowed on the needy — restitution 
shall be made to the injured. "Behold, Lord, the half of 
my goods I give to the poor — and if I have taken any 



ZACCHEUS. 347 

thing from any man by false accusation, I restore him 
four-fold." The ti-ue repentance of this holy convert ex- 
presses itself in confession of sin, in atonement for past 
offences. This confession is full, liberal, open — he scru- 
ples not to give shame to himself, that he may ascribe 
glory to God. Wo be to that fatal bashfulness which 
terminates in confusion of face ! Happy are they w^ho 
humble themselves w^hile the day of salvation lasteth — 
so shall they not be confounded in the hour of solemn 
retribution, when the Son of man shall come in the glory 
of his Father, with his holy angels. 

O blessed and bounteous recompense ! '* This day is 
salvation come to this house." That which thou bestowest 
on the poor, O true believer, is little in comparison with 
what thy Saiior bestows on thee. Didst thou dispense 
all the riches of the world, it were nothing when put in 
the balance with that which thou receivest. It is but 
dross which thou dost give — thou art rewarded with sal- 
vation. Even now do thy faith and charity obtain for thee 
the assurance of thy future reward — even now do the 
everlasting gates of glory fly open to thy view. Thou 
hast dispersed abroad, thou hast given to the poor — thy 
righteousness remaineth for ever — thine horn shall be ex- 
alted with honor. Thou providest thyself bags that wax 
not old — a treasure in heaven that faileth not — where no 
thief approacheth, neither moth corrupteth. The mercy 
of thy Savior calls thee to a kingdom incorruptible, unde- 
filed, and that fadeth not away, reserved for the redeem- 
ed of God. 



348 hall's scripture history. 



72.— HERODIAS. 



The forerunner of Christ, rigid and austere in his man- 
ners, was ill fitted for the refinements of a court. A 
preacher of repentance could not hope for permanent 
favor where the most enormous crimes were practised 
with unblushing audacity — where tyranny, usurpation, 
and incest bade defiance to public and private virtue. 
Yet the invitation of Herod had drawn him thither ; and 
his sanctity and integrity for a while maintained in that 
cruel heart a degree of respect and veneration for his 
character. ** Herod feared John, knowing that he was a 
just man, and a holy; and he heard him gladly." But 
when the prophet began to call him to account for his 
adulterous alliance — when the faithful messenger of Hea- 
ven (in the true spirit of his great j^redecessor) feared not 
the face of man, while he denounced the judgments 
of God, then was he to experience all the resentment of 
indig-nant malice. Another Ahab, at the instigation of 
Jezebel, thirsts after the blood of this Elijah. 

The reformer will meet with little success in his de- 
signs, whose zeal is not seconded by fortitude. The appre- 
hension of danger, the frown of power, will alter his senti- 
ments — he will turn with every blast of fashion or inte- 
rest — a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed. 
Not so the Baptist. "What went ye out into the wilder- 
ness to see ] A reed shaken with the wind V* No — a 
column firm and immoveable, against which the winds 
might blow, and the waves beat vehemently in vain — 
one who, being come to serve the Lord, had prepared his 
heart for temptation — one who had fixed his principles, 
and considered well before he entered upon action — one 
whom neither promises nor threatenings could induce to 
recede from duty, through hope of temporal good, or fear 
of temporal evil 



HERODIAS. 349 

The first act of Herod's cruelty towards the Baptist 
was heinous. He was guilty of various enormities, but 
he *' added this above all, that he shut up John in prison." 
The violence offered to the ambassador of God was an act 
of open hostility against the Majesty of heaven. The 
tyrant well knew the reputation of this saint of God — he 
could not but see how odious it would be to persecute 
the preacher for that just reproof which his crimes had 
too well deserved. But the subject of Herodias was a 
tender point, on which the tetrarch was not disposed to 
hear the law, because he was not disposed to do it. He 
was determined to persevere in what was wrong — and 
his once-loved monitor soon became insupportable. O 
servant of the Highest^ who would not rather share thy 
prison than glitter in all the magnificence of the throne 
of Herod 1 Who can behold thee without admiration, 
sequestered once more from the w^orld, and meditating 
on that blissful place and happy society to which thou 
art hastening 1 

Herod had thrown John into prison — but this would 
not satisfy Herodias. Still she seemed to hear that awful 
voice reproaching her for her crimes, and proclaiming- 
the indignation of heaven. Nothing but the blood of the 
prophet could appease her fears, or disarm her resent- 
ment. She had a quaiTel against him, and would have 
killed him — but for a while she could not. The partner 
of her crimes is easily won over to her purpose. Were 
it not for fear of the people, John should soon be murder- 
ed — but the policy of Herod as yet prevails over his 
malice. The reputation of the Baptist was such as to 
awaken all his fears. The tyrant was not unacquainted 
with the temper and disposition of the Jews ; who, not- 
withstanding their natural depravity, could not but honor 
that exalted virtue which feared not tlie face of man 
when called upon to assert the glory of God. 

What a conflict is in the bosom of a sinner, even when 



3o0 hall's scripture history. 

meditating crimes as yet not perpetrated ! On one side 
he is urged by his evil inclinations, and the suggestions 
of the tempter — on the other he is alarmed by the stings 
of conscience, by remorse and hon'or. " There is no 
peace, saith my God, to the wicked." Herod fears the 
people — he regards not the Almighty. What could an 
offended people effect, in comparison with the just dis- 
pleasure of heaven ] They might have recourse to arms 
— stir uj) mutinies and tumults — disturb, perhaps over- 
turn the government. Be it so. The wrath of God can 
arm the universal world against the sinner, can make 
every creature a weapon for the extirpation of his ene- 
mies. The day of the Lord is great and very temble, 
and who shall abide it ? O wretched Herod, who fearest 
temporal disgi-ace and danger, but wast not dismayed 
with the apprehensions of eternal torment ! 

The malice of Herodias is still on the watch. She is 
determined, sooner or later, to effect her revengeful- 
purpose. As if sin could not be committed with im- 
punity while the Baptist was living to hear it — as 
if his blood would not cry louder than his voice, and 
reprove this unhallowed union. On the birth-day of 
Herod a magnificent feast is set before the lords, high 
captains, and chief estates of G alilee. That day shall call 
a martyr to heaven, and stamp with indelible infamy 
the name of Herodias. A deed shall be done, which, 
while it fills the hearers with hoiTor and astonishment, 
shall teach mankind that the greatest of prophets and 
best of men are not more secure from violence than 
natural death, if with fidelity and courage they execute 
the trust committed to them. 

Salome, the daughter of Herodias by her lawful hus- 
band, is present at this pompous festivity, and dances 
before the assembled guests. In all ages and nations 
this hath been a method of expressing joy and gladness. 
But that a royal princess should appear in this character 



HERODIAS. 351 

before a set of revellers in tlieir debauch, became only 
the daughter of an Herodias, educated by such a mother. 

Herod, inflamed with wine and thrown oif his guard 
by the performance of Salome, utters an imprudent pro- 
mise, and confirms it with an oath — " Whatsoever thou 
shalt ask of me, I will give it thee, even to the half of 
my kingdom !" O Salome, was not this suflicient I Has 
not the king offered thee a boon more than equal to thy 
wishes 1 Wilt thou require something yet more valuable 
than the ivhole of his dominions, did they extend to the 
utmost limits of the world ! Will nothing satisfy thee 
but the honor, the conscience, the soul of thine adopted 
father ] Alas, such is the price which sin never fails to 
ask, and sinners are to(5 ready to bestow ! The glorious 
opportunity of revenge was not to be lost. Herodias is 
consulted by her daughter, and the tender Salome re- 
turns to the banquet athirst for blood — " Give me in a 
charger the head of John the Baptist — of one whom thou 
knowest to be innocent, upright, holy. Make me this 
sacrifice and I am content." With such eagerness and 
sagacity doth the adulteress hunt for the precious life ! 
Proverbs, 6 : 26. 

Bad as Herod was, the petition of Salome at first shock- 
ed him. " The king was sorry." He thought of John's 
character, the atrociousness of the murder, and the opi- 
nion which the world would entertain of the murderer. 
But the tide which had ebbed soon flowed again, and 
obliterated in a moment what had been written on the 
sand during its recess. The love of Herodias — the ad- 
dress of her daughter — the festivity of the season — the 
presence of the assembled nobles, who had witnessed the 
promise, and might approve the proposal — all these cir- 
cumstances on the side of the temptation prevail. Herod 
himself, on recollection, thinks that the obligation of his 
oath will afford him a better excuse than can hereafter 
oc.ur, for complying with the importunity of Herodias, 



352 hall's scripture history. 

and silencing a monitor troublesome to theni both. Tims, 
if any extraordinary wickedness is to be effected, re- 
ligion must be made the pretext. As if wrong became 
light when acted in the name of God — as if it were more 
acceptable in his sight to massacre a prophet than to re- 
pent of an inconsiderate promise. 

The Baptist's fate is determined. " Immediately the 
king sent an executioner, and commanded his head to be 
brought — and he went and beheaded him in the prison." 
The deed of darkness was done in its proper season. At 
midnight the blessed martyr is awakened from that sleep 
which truth and innocence often secure to their possessor 
in the most perilous situation. Well do the generality of 
mankind implore the Almighty to spare them from sud- 
den death, lest it should surj^rise them in one of their 
many unguarded hours. But to this holy prisoner no 
moment could be unseasonable. He had finished the 
work which God had given him to do. He had kept the 
faith, and preserved a conscience void of offence. He 
had done his duty ; and he waited daily for his departure. 
Now therefore is he called from his station with honor, 
to quit the well-fought field for the palace of the Great 
King — to refresh himself, after the toil of a laborious 
day, with the never-failing streams of life and immortali- 
ty — to exchange his blood-stained armor for a robe of 
glory — to receive an eternal reward for his temporary 
labors — to sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, 
in the kingdom of God — and, as the friend of the bride- 
gi'oom, to enter into the joy of his Lord, From the 
gloom and confinement of a prison he passed to the lib- 
erty and light of heaven — and while malice was gratified 
with the sight of his head, and his body was canned in 
silence to the grave, his triumphant spirit repaired to a 
Court where mercy and justice are enthroned together 
with power — where no Herodias thirsts after the blood 
of a prophet — where he who hath labored with diligence 



THE MULTITUDE FED. 353 

fjid sincerity in the work of reformation, cannot fail of 
welcome acceptance — where the holiness, and zeal, and 
constancy of the saints are rewarded with blissful immor- 
tality — where the righteous " are crowned, and receive 
palms from the )Son of God, whom they have confessed 
in the world." 



73.— THE MULTITUDE FED. 

The Savior of mankind, though on some occasions the 
object of popular fury unjustly and falsely excited by 
others, was followed by an admiring multitude. Their 
well-meant importunity caused him to remove from the 
land to the sea.* Still they pursue him with eyes of 
eager anxiety, and when they perceive his place of desti- 
nation, they are present, ready to receive him at his land- 
ing. The winds or oars did not so swiftly drive on the 
ship as desire and zeal impelled these ardent followers. 
Nothing is more acceptable to God than our importuni- 
ty in seeking him. If he withdraw himself for a while, it 
is with this view, that we may yet more earnestly seek 
his face and pant after the blessings of his presence. 
Jesus seeing a great multitude, passes from the ship to 
the shore. The same motives which brought him fi'om 
heaven to earth, brought him also from sea to land — 
compassion for the souls and bodies of m.ankind — that he 
might instruct, and comfort, and heal, and feed them. 

Amidst the assembled people, no doubt many w^ere 
laboring under divers infirmities. What marvel, if the 

* By the Sea is meant the Lake of Galilee, or Gennesareth, on the 
Vicstem side of which stood the city of Tiberiae : hence the lake itsi'lf is 
called the Sea of Tibcria?, John, 0:1. 



354 hall's scripture history. 

report of Christ's amazing miracles attracted to him 
those who stood in need of healing? They fomid advan- 
tages beyond the power of human aid — beyond all tliat 
could be derived from the wisdom and exjDerience of 
mortals. Even now, as heretofore, O Lord, thou art our 
all-perfect, and bounteous, and benevolent physician, 
who healest all our diseases, and takest away all our in- 
firmities. O that we would but have recourse to thee in 
all our spiritual maladies ! It would then be as impossi- 
ble for us to be without help, as for thee to be without 
power and mercy. 

He who had filled the souls of his hearers with a spi- 
ritual repast, will now approve himself to be the great 
Father and Preserver of the world, by whose liberal pro- 
vision mankind is sustained. The eyes of all wait on 
thee, O Lord, and thou givest them meat in due season. 
The eyes of all wait upon thee : thou givest food to all 
flesh, for thy mercy endureth for ever. Thou openest 
thine hand, and fillest all things living with plenteousness. 

The apostles, who had noted the diligent attendance 
of the multitude, now (towards evening) come to their 
gracious Master in their behalf. ** This is a desert place, 
and the time is far sj)ent : send the multitude away, that 
they may go into the country round about, and into the 
villages, and buy themselves bread; for they have no- 
thing to eat." How well does it become spiritual guides 
to regard the bodily necessities of the people of God! 
How just reason have the people to expect from their 
teachers a due proportion of charitable care ! L^nmeet 
parsimony here, if the means are afforded us, is not 
merely odious, but sinful. The same voice which com- 
mands us to continue instant in prayer, bids us distribute 
to the necessities of the saints — admonishes us that we 
be given to hospitality. 

The place was desert — the time, evening. Doubtless 
our Savior made choice of both these, that there might 



THE MULTITUDE FED. 355 

be more necessity for his miraculous aid, and greater 
evidence of his power. When other means fail, the 
Almighty is ever ready to assist and befriend us — it is on 
such occasions that we may safely ask and expect his 
aid. Superfluous benefits can neither be so earnestly de- 
sired nor so earnestly sought, nor even so gratefully re- 
ceived from the hands of mercy. " Cast thy burden up- 
on the Lord, and he shall sustain thee." Hence is it 
that the divine assistance comes ever in the greatest ex- 
igency of our trials — when our faith, our hope, our zeal 
have been exercised — when salvation itself is rendered 
doubly welcome. 

The disciples, in a kind concern for the necessities of 
the multitude, solicit their dismission. How are they 
astonished at the reply of their gracious Master ! " They 
need not depart — give ye them lo eat." He knew, though 
they were ignorant, what supply he intended for his peo- 
ple. His wisdom prepared his servants for the intended 
miracle — he would perform it after mature deliberation 
— not abruptly, nor without duly intimating his purpose. 
Meanwhile his followers, adhering to the literal sense of 
his command, urged their inability to comply with it — 
" We have here but five barley loaves and two small 
fishes." Alas, how slender a provision was this, even for 
our Lord and his own disciples ! Though every beast 
of the forest was thine, O Savior, and the cattle upon a 
thousand hills — thine the com which covereth the whole 
surface of the earth — thine all the fowls of the air, and 
whatsoever passes through the seas — though thou couldst 
at thy pleasure have assembled innumerable quails, or 
rained down manna from heaven, yet art thou contented 
with the humble portion of five barley loaves and two 
small fishes ! Certainly this was thy tvill, not thy need — 
thou wouldst teach us, that our appetites may be relieved, 
not pampered — that our coiTuptible body is not to be 
our master, much less our god ; that our glory may not 



356 hall's scripture hlstory. 

be our shame, that our end may not be destructioiL 
Meat was ordained for the body, the body for the soul, 
the soul for God. The more we are devoted to heaven- 
ly things, the less shall we be attached to what is earthly. 
What shall this world be to us, when we are all spirit 1 
According to the degi'ee of our intellectual purity will 
be our indifference to bodily gi'atifications. 

When we look with the bodily eye on an object, we 
see an impossibility of those effects which faith can 
easily apprehend, and omnipotence more easily produce. 
In such cases, the virtue is not in the means, but in the 
Ap-ent — " Brino^ them hither to me." O blessed Lord, 
how hadst thou implanted in the hearts of thy disciples 
the duties of mercy and compassion ! They regard not 
their own necessity — they plead not for themselves, nor 
for the relief of their hunger, but cheerfully contribute 
the whole of their humble store, willingly yield to thy 
commands, and trust to thy mercy for their sustenance. 
O God, when thou callest on us to relieve the necessities 
of our brethren, let us not be more thrifty than obedient 
— let not our eye be evil, while thou art good. Better 
had it been for us to have wanted those gifts ourselves, 
which we ungratefully withhold from thee. 

The great Master of the feast marshals his guests. 
" He commanded the multitude to sit down on the 
gi-ass." They obey, in faith and joyful expectation. Not 
a doubt, not a cavil is heard among so many thousands. 
All meekly look up to Chnst for the means of their sup- 
port, and wait upon his merciful hand. It is easy to pre- 
serve our serenity in the midst of abundance — but in 
the hour of want and adversity to depend on Him who 
is invisible, to fly to him for succor, and rest with con- 
fidence on his promises, this is a true and noble act of 
faith, worthy of that God who inspires, beholds, ap- 
proves it. 

Christ, who could have multiplied the bread in absence, 



THE iMULTITUDE FED. 3-57 

or in silence, takes and blesses it before them all — that he 
might at once show to his admiring guests both the Au- 
thor and the means of this increase. It is thy blessing, 
O God, that maketli rich. Some languish in the midst 
of abundance — others are cheerful and happy in the 
midst of poverty. Second causes must not be denied 
tlieir place ; but the over-ruling power is from above. 
Nothing can take away from the right, from the pre- 
eminence of the Creator. 

" There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth." It is 
the grain cast into the fun'ows of the earth, and not that 
deposited in the storehouse, which yields its rich pro- 
duce to the husbandman. Christ, wlien he multiplied tlie 
loaves and fishes, gave them to his attendants, not fijr 
their own use, but that they might freely dispense them 
to the people. Away with our weak and parsimonious 
distrust — God himself, who hath declared that it is more 
blessed to give than to receive, will recompense the 
bounty of his servants. Nothing can enrich them like 
beneficence. Blessed is he that considereth the poor — 
his children shall not be forsaken — his seed shall not beor 

o 

their bread. * 

The amazed disciples set the miraculous food before 
their guests. Not even Judas reserves a share to him- 
self till our Savior's commands are literally obeyed. 
The whole multitude eat, and are filled — twelve baskets 
of fragments remain, when all are satisfied. O work of 
boundless omnipotence! The right hand of the Lord is 
exalted — the right hand of the Lord bringeth mighty 
things to pass. If he prepare a table for his Israel in the 
desert, their bread shall be the food of angels — a no less 
marvellous extent of his bounty provides for the suste- 
nance of five thousand men, besides women and children. 
The measure of his beneficence cannot but run over. Not 
according to our merits, but his mercy, do we receive 
blessings at his hands. O Lord, we are full of thy good- 



35S hall's SCRinUKE kistorv. 

ness — let our hearts and voices be full of thy praise ! 
Yet while we wonder at this thy miracle, O merciful 
Savior, let us not forget the daily exertions of thy munifi- 
cence. Whence is it that we have our continual provision ] 
One and the same gi-acious hand does all. If the Israel- 
ites are fed with manna in the desert, and with com in 
Canaan, both proceed from the same power and the same 
bounty. If the disciples and the people are fed by the bread 
multiplied, and we by the grain multij^lied, both are the act 
of the same omnipotence. What is this but a perjDetual 
miracle, O God, which thou workest for our preservation 1 
Without thee, there is no more power in the grain to mul- 
tijjly, than in the bread. It is thou that givest it a body 
at thine own pleasure, and to every seed his own body. 
Why should thy goodness be less magnified because it 
is universal % Thou visitest the earth, and blessest it — 
thou makest it very plenteous — thou preparest com, for 
so thou providest for it — thou waterest her fuiTows — 
thou sendest rain into the little valleys thereof — thou 
makest it soft with the drops of rain, and blessest the in- 
crease of it — thou crownest the year with thy goodness — 
the folds are full of sheep — the valleys are covered over 
with com — they shout for joy — they also sing ! 



74.— CHRIST WALKING ON THE SEA. 

Both the created world in general, and its component 
parts, are in equal subjection to the Maker of all things. 
Our Savior, who had approved his power on the land, 
will now show it with respect to the air and waters. He 
who had preserved the multitude from the peril of hun- 
ger in the desert, will now preserve his disciples ffom 
the peril of the tempest in the sea. 



CHRIST WALKING ON THE SEA. 359 

The day was now far spent; and at this unusual hour 
our blessed Lord constrains his disciples to depart, and 
to leave him in mysterious solitude. The people, whose 
love and thankfulness were now raised to the highest 
pitch, would have forced on his acceptance those honors 
which had so long been usurped from the family of 
David. But the kingdom of our Savior was not of this 
world. To avoid the proffered sceptre he retires in 
haste from the multitude, and withdraws into the lonely 
wilderness. When the glory of the world pressed upon 
him, he fled away from an earthly diadem — when the 
hour of his passioii was come, he voluntarily sun-endered 
himself to his persecutors. And is there less danger 
in suffering, than in outward dignity and prosperity] 
Blessed Jesus, why do we dote on those earthly distinc- 
tions which thou didst so studiously avoid? How can 
we believe, who receive honor one of another, and seek 
not the honor which cometh from God only? 

Devotion, as well as humility, draws our Lord aside 
from his followers — he went alone up to the mountain 
to pray. Thou, O Savior, to whom the gi'eatest throng 
was a solitude, when compared with the host of angels 
that surround thy throne of gloiy; thou, who wert inca- 
pable of distraction from thy gracious Father with whom 
thou wert ever one; wouldst yet retire, as man, for the 
opportunity of prayer — to teach us, who are ever assault- 
ed by wandering thoughts and the intrusions of a giddy 
world, how best to frame our minds to address the 
majesty of Heaven. Thus didst thou pray for us, who 
are unable of ourselves to ask — unworthy to be heard 
but by the efficacy of thy prayers. Lord, how assiduous 
should we be in our supplications to the throne of mercy, 
when thou, who art the God of all power, where thou 
misfhtost have commanded, wouldst entreat? Therefore 
do we pray, because thou hast left us the example — 
therefore do we hope to be answered in our prayers, 



SCO hall's scriptuhe history. 

because thou didst pray for us on eaitli, and no^v makest 
intercession for us in heaven. 

The night approached. The disciples had long waited 
for their Master, and could not without regret forsake 
the shore — but his command was positive, and admitted 
of no evasion. They were "constrained" to depart. The 
moments of their exjDectation, so tedious to themselves, 
were employed by our blessed Lord in holding converse 
with his Father. He was on the mount, they on the sea 
— yet, while he was thus employed in his sublime con- 
templations, he could see his absent disciples, and pity 
them while tossed on the waves. That all-piercing eye 
is restrained by no limits. At once he beholds the high- 
est heavens, and the rnidst of the sea; the glory of his 
Father and the misery of his servants. Whatever pros- 
pects present themselves to his view, he can bestow the 
tenderest compassion on the distressed of mankind. 

How much more, O Savior, from the height of thine 
eternal felicity, dost thou look down on us thy poor crea- 
tures, buffeted by the unquiet waves of this troublesome 
Avorld, by the rude and boisterous storms of affliction 1 
Thou didst foresee the toil and danger of these thy dis- 
ciples — and yet wouldst send them away, that they might 
experience the horrors of the tempest. Thou who 
couldst prevent our sufferings by thy power, wilt permit 
them in thy wisdom — that thou mayst glorify thy mercy 
in our deliverance, and confirm our faith by the event of 
our calamities. 

How do all things apparently conspire to fill the disci- 
ples with consternation! The night was dark and tem- 
pestuous ; their Master was absent, the sea was strong, 
the winds high and contrary. Had their Lord been with 
them, howsoever the elements had raged, they would 
have considered themselves secure. Had the waves 
been tranquil, or the winds propitious, they might have 
remained in a state of serenity durino- his absence — now. 



CHRIST WALKING ON THE SEA. 361 

the season, the wind, the sea, and the retirement of their 
Master contribute to render them miserable. Sometimes 
the providence of God thinks fit so to direct the course 
of events, that to his most faithful servants there appears 
no glimpse of comfort; but such a universal gloominess, 
as if heaven and earth had conspired to overwhelm 
them with sorrow. Thou, O Savior, in the stormy night 
of thine adversity, in the bitteraess of thine agonized 
spirit, didst exclaim with accents of despair, **My God, 
my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Yet in all these 
extremities of ^\Tetchedness our heavenly Father de- 
signs the increase of his glory and ours — he has in view 
the triumph of our faith, the reward of our victory. 

Through the tedious and threatening night the disci- 
ples are beset with danger and horror, abandoned as it 
were to the fury of the winds and waves — but in the 
fourth watch, when they are wearied with labor and sor- 
row, they hear the voice of their gracious Redeemer. 

At their entrance into the ship, at the rising of the 
tempest, at the close of the day, they heard not of their 
Master — but when they had long been vexed by the 
winds and waves, and their own troubled thoughts, at 
the dawn of day, and not till then, Jesus came unto 
them. He had purposely absented himself, that he might 
exercise their patience — that he might teach them to 
wait on divine providence — that their devotions might 
be animated, not weakened, by delay — that they might 
give more grateful welcome to their deliverance. Thus, 
O God, even thus thou dost at this hour deal with thy ser- 
vants. We are often cast upon the sea, the winds rage, 
the billows swell, and thine absence heightens our sor- 
rows — but he that endureth to the end, the same shall 
be saved. Heaviness may continue for the night, but joy 
Cometh in the morning. O let us not faint under adversity 
— but let us wait for thee, depend on thy mercy, and trust 
in thee with undaunted patience and holy resolution ! 

Script. Hist. 10 



3G2 hall's scripture history. 

Thou earnest at last, O Savior — but yet so, that at 
first there was more of dread than of joy in thy pre- 
sence. Thy coming was both miraculous and fearful. 
The God of elements passed through the air — walked 
upon the waters — making no impression on that liquid 
pavement, but consolidating the v/aves, that they might 
yield a firm support to his sacred feet. Alas, why are 
the disciples teiTified at his appearance 1 What object 
could be so pleasing to their eyes as their beloved Mas- 
ter 1 What could be a greater proof of his Divine power, 
than was presented to their view at this moment 1 The 
waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee, and were 
afraid — the depths also were troubled. The floods are 
risen, O Lord — the floods have lift up their voice — the 
floods lift up their waves. The waves of the sea are 
mighty and rage horribly — but yet the Lord, who dwell- 
eth on high, is mightier. 

Lo, they who had most especial occasion of joy and 
grateful adoration, are terrified and afli'ighted — not at 
the coming of their Lord, but at the maimer of his com- 
ing. The wonderful works of God, if we see them not 
with the eye of faith, are liable to dangerous misappre- 
hension. The very sunbeams to which we are indebted 
for our sight, if we view them intensely, dazzle and over- 
power us. Wretched mortals are too apt, on all occa- 
sions, to question the most salutary truths, to fly from 
their own safety, to mistake the kind intentions of their 
best Benefactor. 

]>ut ichy are the discij^les thus troubled ] " They sup- 
posed that they had seen a spirit." That there hath 
been such intercourse between the visible and invisible? 
world, and their respective inhabitants, has been a ti*uth 
imdoubtedly received, though in the dark times of super- 
stition much fraud and collusion were mingled with re- 
ality. Crafty men and lying spirits agreed together to 
abuse a credulous world. But even where there was not 



CHHIST WALKING ON THE SExi. 363 

trutli, there was horror. The good angels themselves 
were not seen without fear — their appearance was deem- 
ed a prelude to immediate death — how much more were 
the malignant powers of darkness objects of terror and 
consternation 1 

Yet wherefore should they fear 1 Evil spirits are pre- 
sent, though unseen — equally armed for mischief, though 
unknown and unsuspected. Visibility adds nothing to their 
power or their malice. Had the eyes of the disciples been 
opened they would, like the servant of the prophet, have 
seen more with them than against them — a sure though in- 
visible guard of more powerful spirits, and themselves un- 
der the protection of the God of spirits, who, singly, can 
control all the principalities of hell. But their faith was 
in the bud, and the appearance of this dreaded object 
was sudden, and afforded no time of recollection to their 
thoughts. 

O the wickedness of our frail nature, so easily terrified 
at the idea of those adversaries whom we profess daily 
to resist and vanquish — against whom the decree of God 
hath opposed us in an everlasting conflict ! Are not these 
the men commissioned by their Lord, not only to heal 
the sick, but to cast out devils ] Are not these the men 
who returned with joy, and boasted of their victory over 
the emissaries of Satan 1 Yet now, when their disturbed 
imagination represents to them an unembodied phantom, 
they are overwhelmed with sudden fear. What power 
there is in the eye to betray the heart ! 

It was high time for our Savior to speak. The tem- 
pest, the darkness, the supposed apparition had almost 
bereaved his disciples of their senses. How sweet, how 
seasonable is his mercy ! How are their imaginary ter- 
rors mitigated and done away by the sound of his gra- 
cious voice ! " Be of good cheer — it is I — be not afraid." 
There needs no other cordial to the drooping soul. In 
the worst of Our afHictions let us but be assured that 



364 hall's scRirxuRE history. 

diriyt is with us, and in spite of liell we are safe. God 
is our hope and strength, a very present help in trouble. 
Therefore we ^vill not fear, tliough the earth be removed^ 
and thouGrh the hills be carried into the midst of the sea 
— though the waters rage and swell — though the moun- 
tains shake at the tempest of the same. 

Thy word, O blessed Jesus, was evidence enough — so- 
well were the disciples acquainted with the accents of 
their Master that their sorrow is at once turned into joy. 
Thou art the good Shej^herd. We are not of thy flock 
if we know not thy voice. The same Divine person who 
spake unto Moses, *' I am that I am/* saith unto his ter- 
rified disciple, " It is I — I, your friend and Master^ — I,, 
the Creator and Redeemer of the world — I, the com- 
uTander of winds and waters — I, the sovereign Lord of 
heaven and earth — I, the God of spirits." O powerful 
and gracious word of a compassionate Savior, able to 
calm all tempests, able to revive all hearts — " Be of good 
cheer — it is I — be not afraid." 



75.— PETER WALKING ON THE SEA, 

No sooner hath Jesus said, **It is I," than Peter, with 
all the impatience of joy, calls him by the name of 
" Master." On every occasion the fervent zeal of this 
apostle made him foremost in bearing testimony to his 
Lord. While his companions were silent, Avhile as 
yet our Savior was at a distance from the shattered 
vessel, Peter owns his Master and requests permis- 
sion to approach him. Yet how is this love and cou- 
rage contrasted by doubt and fear! What a mixture 
do we behold, even in this illustrious disciple, of faith 



PETER WALKING ON THE SEA. 3G3 

r.ritl Jlstrust ! It was fliith that saiJ, ** Master" — it was 
<iistnist that added, " If it be tliou," It was faith that 
f:aid, **Bid mc come unto thee," (implying that the word 
of Christ could enable, as well as command,) and that, 
<.n receiving 2>ermission, durst step down upon that 
watery pavement — it was distrust, that, upon the vehe- 
mence of a mighty wind, feared. It was in faith that 
he walked — it was in distrust that he began to sink — 
it was in faith that he cried, "Lord, save me !" O im- 
perfect condition of the holiest saint on earth, wherein 
MO gold is so pure as not to be alloyed with })ascT 
elements ! The fulness of gi'ace can only be found in 
the fulmess of glory — our very virtues here below are 
mingled with infirmity and corruption. Hereafter the 
children of G od shall shine as the Sun in the kingdom of 
their Father, when they shall be invested with the bright 
beams of heavenly radiance — on earth they are but in 
their dawn, wh«re light is necessarily blended with dark- 
ness. Far be it from us to be discouraged by a sense of 
our infirmities. He who alone fashioned the heart of 
man, best knoweth whereof we are made — he rcmem- 
bereth that we are but dust. 

I/et others then cavil at thy request, O blessed apostle 
— let others descant on thy weakness — I admire and 
venerate thy faith, thy fervor, thine intrepidity; while in 
no faltering accent thou didst exclaim, ^* Bid m^e come 
viwio thee on the waters!" Thou.mightst have suspected 
tliat the voice of tliy Master ^was as miitable by the ima- 
gined spirit as his person — thou mightst have dreaded the 
raging tempest, the threatening billows, the yielding 
nature of that tiH3aclw3rous element — ^but thy desire to 
iipproach thy Savior leads thee to banish every thought 
(;f fear. ''O my Lord and INIaster — all thiags are pessi- 
ble to thee — thou canst command both the wav<^s and 
me thy servant — thou art great in power, and kno^^•est 
ihem who tiust in thee — thou hast thy way in the whirl- 



366 hall's scripture history. 

wind, and thy path in the storm. All things obey thee. 
Bid me come unto thee upon the waters.'' 

The actions of the zealous disciple second his wordsi. 
No sooner hath our Savior expressed his assent to the 
courageous request, than he sets his foot on the unquiet 
sea, disregarding all difficulties, contemning all dangers. 
We are wont to admire the daring spirit of that man 
who first committed himself to the sea in a frail bark, 
guarded as he was by all possible means of safety. How 
much more signal is the adventurous braveiy of this 
servant of Christ ! Well did Peter know, that he who 
had called could uphold him. He therefore sues to be 
bidden and trusts to be supported. True faith is not easily 
terrified or dismayed. Its virtue is represented, not as 
the achievement of some trivial performance, but as the 
removing of mountains. Like some heroic champion, it 
desires the honors of danger, and petitions for the first 
onset — while the unbeliever is freezing in torpid fear, and 
consults nothing but his own ease, or his own security. 

How easily might our Savior have disappointed the 
ardor of his apostle, and denied his unprecedented re- 
quest ! " The acts of my omnipotence are not design- 
ed as examples to thy weakness. It is no less than pre- 
sumption in thee, a mortal, to seek to imitate the mira- 
culous works of the Son of God. Remain in thy ship 
and wonder — thinking thyself sufficiently happy that thou 
hast a Master to whom winds and waves pay homage 
and do obeisance." Yet, behold, the assent of our Lord 
is no sooner solicited than obtained. The suit of ambition 
was suddenly denied to the wife of Zebedee. The suit 
of revenge was not more successful when proffered by 
her children — but the prayer of faith, though its object 
transcended the very laws of nature, met with no denial 
from the Lord of mercy. How much less, O Savior, wilt 
thou reject thy servants who ask thee for that grace which 
they continually need ? Never did any man say, "Bid me 



PETER WALKING ON THE SEA. 367 

come unto thee in the way of tliy commandments," whom 
thou didst not invite, and enable to come. 

True faith rests not in mere speculation, hut decides 
and executes. If we rest contented with a vain and fruit- 
less desire without actually endeavoring to present our- 
.selves before God, we feel only the faint and delusive 
impulses of self-deceit. Blessed Savior, thou hast com- 
manded us, in spite of all perils, all obstacles whatever, to 
seek thy face. Thy face, Lord, will we seek. The waves 
of this troublesome world shall not affright us — the winds 
and storms of temptation shall not withhold us — no way 
can be otherwise than safe while thou art the end. 

The apostle, like his divine Master, walks upon the 
waves. Sujoported by the power of Christ, and by his 
ovm faith, he is safe in the midst of danger. Had it not 
been for that power, that faith would have proved vain. 
Had it not been for that faith, that power would never 
liave been exerted. While we are here in this world, 
we walk upon the waters. Still the means of our pre- 
Fei*vation are the same. Without the assistance of Christ 
v/e perish; the waters cover us, and the stream goeth 
over our soul — without the operation of a true and lively 
faith, we imitate not the courage but the weakness of the 
apostle — who, when he saw the wind boisterous, was 
afraid — and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, *' Lord, 
save me !" 

When he sought permission to walk towards Chiist 
OH that liquid pavement, he thought of the waters, but 
adverted not to the winds which raged on those waters — 
nr if he had prepared his mind for some difficulties, the 
icmpest he had to e!2counter was beyond the limit of his 
expectation. Let o<ur haste to approach thee, blessed 
Lord, be zealous, but not improvident. Before we quit 
the ship, let us foresee the storm : if we are prepared 
for the worst, we shall be canied safely over those bil- 
lows which overwhelm the negligent. 



368 hall's SCKli'TURE HISTORY. 

As soon as Peter began to fea)-, he began to sink. 
While he believed, the sea was brass — when he began 
to distrust, those waves were water. He cannot sink 
while he relies on the power of his Master — he cannot 
hut sink, when once he doubts it. Our faith gives us not 
only courage but success — infidelity makes us liable to 
every danger, every mischief 

It was the improvidence of Peter not to foresee — it 
was his weakness to fear. It was the effect of his fear 
to sink — when lo, in the very moment of extreme peril, 
his faith revives, breaks through his unbelief, and as he 
is sinking, bids him exclaim, " Lord, save me !" His 
heart implores deliverance ere the waters flow over his 
head — he is aware who could uphold him from sinking, 
and deliver him, though sunk — and therefore out of the 
deep he called unto thee, O Lord — and thou didst hear 
his voice. 

It was Christ, the Lord, whom Peter had offended by 
distrusting. It is Christ, the Lord, to whom he sues for 
deliverance. His weakness doth not discourage him 
from his refuge. To whom should we seek for succor, 
but to thee, O God, who for our sins art justly displeas- 
ed? Against thee only have we sinned — in thee only 
is our help. In vain shall all the powers of heaven and 
earth conspire to relieve us, if thou withhold thine aid. 
Lord, when we have offended against thy justice by 
mortal infirmity, teach us to have recourse to thy mercy 
by faith and true repentance ! 

That mercy is no sooner sought after than found. 
" Immediately Jesus put forth his hand and caught him." 
Even though he had ceased to trust in that power which 
alone could 2Dresei*\'e him — though he had \Nronged the 
care of his blessed Master by weak and ungi'ounded dif- 
fidence, he is not abandoned to destruction. Indignation 
is disarmed by pity. In a moment that power which 
created the sea and the dry land is stretched out for his 



jAmus. 369 

rtViief. When did tlio voice of a believer solicit tlic 
lUGTcy of God, and solicit in vain? Thou, Lord, art 
good and ready to forgivo, sxid plenteous in mercy to all 
tliat call upon thee — thou art great, and doest wondrous 
tilings — the right hand of the Lord bringeth mighty 
things to pass. 

Jesus, while he saves liis trembling apostle from de- 
struction, meets him with the voice of just reproof. *' O 
thou of little faith, whei'efore dids't thou doubt ]" Well 
as our Savior apj) roved the zeal and sincerity of his ser- 
vant, he would not v/ink at his infirmities. Where there 
was such gi-ound for coniidence, the doubts of infidelity 
were worthy of censure and reprehension ; but the sin 
of Peter was forgiven, for he loved much. It is the fruit 
of thy favor and mercy, O Lord, that w'e escape judg- 
raent — we are not therefore to escape rebuke. Had not 
Peter found grace in thy sight, he might have been suffer- 
ed to sink in silence — now he is saved, with rejoroof. 
There may be more compassion in frowns than in smiles. 
Correct us, O Savior, in judgment, not in thine anger, 
lost thou bring us to nothing. O let the righteous God 
fimite us, v/hen we offend, with his gracious admonition — 
it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break the 
iiCad — for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, even 
iis a father his son in whom he delighteth. 



76,— JAIRUS. 

Already had our blessed Savior demonstrated to man- 
kind that he was the Lord of life and death. Already 
had he commanded the return of a departed spirit, and 
brought it from the unseen world, that it might be rein- 
ttated in its earthly mansion. No wonder that the fame 
16* 



370 hall's scripture history. 

of such an astonishing act diffused itself far and wide 
throughout the region of Judea. No wonder that all 
who stood in need of assistance had recourse to the Lord 
of mercy and power. The people of God resorted in 
countless multitudes to mount Carmel to behold the mi- 
racles of Elijah. Lo, a greater than Elijah is here. 

Even among the rulers of the synagogue prejudice 
could not prevail over natural affection. When Jairus 
beheld his dear, his only child in the agonies of death, 
he paid no attention to those hard sayings which ungod- 
ly sinners spake against the Savior of the world. The 
question of triumphant bigotry, " Have any of the rulers 
or Pharisees believed ]" was not unanswerable. Yes, 
they have believed. With the heart they have believed 
unto righteousness, and with the mouth they have con- 
fessed unto salvation. While Jesus spake unto the peo- 
ple, there came a Ruler and worshipped him, saying, " My 
little daughter lieth at the point of death — but come and 
lay thy hands upon her, and she shall live." O Jaiinis, 
great is thy faith, founded on an immoveable Rock. The 
winds and storms of affliction, the poisonous arrows of 
death itself are directed against it in vain. Thy God, 
whom thou servest continually, he shall deliver thee. 

Behold and see how gracious the Lord is — blessed is 
the man which putteth his trust in him. No sooner hatli 
the tender father offered up his j3etition, than he receives 
an answer of peace. " Fear not — believe only, and she 
shall be made whole." Instantly our Savior directs his 
footsteps to the house of his suppliant — Jairus accom- 
panies him, full of anxious expectation, not yet aware 
that the object of his parental fondness was even now a 
lifeless corpse. These dreadful tidings meet him on his 
way, while the multitude, thronging round our blessed 
Lord, detain him from a speedy arrival. 

That not a moment might be unemployed in acts of 
mercy, our Savior works a miracle of healing in his very 



JAIRUS. 371 

progress. Even by virtue of liis garment he delivers a 
miserable sufferer from the jaws of death. How shall 
we imitate thee, gracious Lord, if we suffer our hands to 
relax from works of benevolence 1 Our life passes away 
with our time — we lose that hour which we improve not. 

While this recent display of Divine omnipotence ele- 
vates the heart of Jairus, and awakens such sentiments 
in his mind that against hope he believeth in hope, the 
importunity of the multitude on the other hand awakens 
the most painful emotions. He was imploring the mercy 
of Christ for his daughter — the assembled people im- 
pede the Lord of life from blessing his roof with his j^re- 
sence. Every man is most sensible of his own necessity 
— we cannot be too emulous of the Divine favor, of the 
Divine benediction. 

The only child of this ruler lay dying when he came to 
solicit the help of Christ, and was dead while he solicited 
it. There was hoj^e in her sickness — in its progress there 
was fear — in its event he is told to despair of comfort. 
" Thy daughter is dead — trouble not the Master." Had 
Jairus betaken himself for aid to a merely finite being, 
the word had been just. But since an omnipotent agent 
is concerned, death itself is no impediment to his power. 
Thy daughter is dead, O faithful and devout parent, but 
cannot he, in whose hands are the issues of life and of 
death, bring her back again ] Cannot thy Lord and Sa- 
vior be gracious to thee, that thy child may revive 1- 

The messenger addressed himself to the ear of an af- 
flicted father. Jairus receives the sad confirmation of his 
fears, and is now about to resign himself to the bitter- 
ness of sorrow. But that Divine Benefactor of mankind, 
whose office it was to comfort the miserable, speaks peace 
to the wretched parent, and awakens his faith and his 
hope. " Be not afraid — only believe." Alas, who, under 
such a fatal calamity, could be insensible to sorrow ] Who 
could do otherwise than grieve for the loss of an only 



372 HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

child ? Who could do otherwise than imagine, that 
death, having once seized on the innocent victim, would 
not abandon its prey ] 

But perfect faith, as well as perfect love, casteth out 
fear. Unbelief is nearly allied to that timid, suspicious 
temper, which will take nothing upon trust, even where 
God himself is Agent. If our Lord had commanded Jai- 
rus what was easy to perform, where had been the praise 
of his obedience 1 While the child was yet alive, to believe 
that she might recover was no difficult operation of the 
mind — but to believe that the dead should live again was 
an illustrious proof of faith and piety — faith, stronger 
than death itself, and able to burst those iron bonds like 
threads of tow. How much natural impossibility is there 
in the return of our bodies from the dust of the earth, in- 
to which, through many degrees of dissolution, they shall 
at last be mouldered ] Yet be not afraid, O my soul — 
believe only ; and in thy flesh thou shall see God. 

The work might have been as easily done by a distant 
command — the power of Christ was there, while himself 
was absent — but he will go personally to the place, that 
he might be confessed the Author of so great a miracle. 
Blessed Savior, it was thy delight to repair to the house 
of mourning — thou hadst no gi-eater joy, when thou wert 
a partaker of our human nature, than to pour the full 
measure of comfort into the heart of the afflicted. 

What a confusion is there in worldly sorrow ! How is 
the awful silence of that lifeless body contrasted by the 
shrieks of the wretched mother, the loud lamentations of 
the attendants, the cries of sympathizing friends, the dis- 
cordant minstrelsy hymning its funeral dirge ! Soon docs 
the Redeemer banish these clamorous mourners. Not 
that he wished to check those tears, which in circum- 
stances of such a nature are natural, are unavoidable — 
not that, with a stem austerity, he was averse to that 
Bublime and heaven-taught art, which enhances joy, and 



jAiRUs. 373 

charms the troubled soul* — but because he knew these 
tloleful ceremonies to be premature and unseasonable. 
" Give place — the maid is not dead, but sleepeth." The 
grave itself is but a place of rest, whence the christian 
shall be recalled by the trumpet of the Archangel — but 
the daughter of Jairus, so soon to be awakened, was but 
in a kind of temporary re230se. Death and sleep are 
jilike to thee, O Lord — thy voice can recall us from the 
sleep of death — without thee we are not able to arise 
from our ordinary slumber. 

Before, the people, and the domestics of Jairus, held 
Jesus for a prophet — now they account him an idle 
visionary. They who came professedly to mourn, cannot 
refrain from contemptuous laughter — " Who ever died, 
if this be sleep 1 Have we officiated at so many funerals, 
have we seen and wej)t over so many corpses, and cannot 
v/e distinguish between sleep and death 1 The eyes are 
fixed — the breath is gone — the limbs are cold and lifeless 
— Why does he mock that sorrow which it is beyond his 
power to remove ?" How easily may we be led astray 
by prejudice and self-conceit, in things pertaining to 
Heaven ! The proud philosopher, the haughty moralist, 
are ready to insult and blaspheme God when he speaks 
of things beyond their compass — but God is not mocked 
by the unbelief of his creatures. He that dwelleth in 
heaven shall laugh them to scorn — the Lord shall have 
them in derision. These vain and foolish Jews, in spite 
of foiTner convictions, persist in eiTor and incredulity ; 
and deem the words of eternal wisdom and mercy no 
better than foolishness. 

The sorrowing parents share not in these senseless 
cavils. They look towards the Lord of life with eyes 
which give utterance to all the emotions of their hearts 



* " And when they had sung an Hymn they went out into the Mount 
of Olive?." Matthew, 2G : 30. Mark, 14 : 26. 



371 hall's scripture history. 

— -and await the issue in trembling expectation. Three 
chosen disciples attend their Master into the chamber of 
death. O Savior, when is thy goodness discouraged by 
the petulance of scornful infidelity 1 In spite of turbulent 
<)pposition, or wayward folly, thy Father worketh hither- 
tD, and thou workest. It is enough that thy marvellous 
acts shall honor thee, and convict thy gainsayers. " He 
took her by the hand, and called, saying, 'Maidy ar'ise^ 
and she arose straightway." 

How could that voice be other than effectual ? He 
who made that hand, now touched it. He who hereaf- 
ter shall say ''Arise, ye dead," now said, " Maid, arise." 
The soul is in the powder of the God who gave it. He 
saith to it, " Go," and it goeth — "Come," and it cometh. 
The late dissolved spirit knows its place, knows its ofhce, 
and at the divine injunction returns to that abode, which, 
by the same injunction, it had so lately quitted. The 
astonished and enraptured parents behold the darling of 
their hearts restored not merely to life, but to health, 
and vigor, and activity. Omnipotence goes not the pace 
of nature — all the immediate works of G od are, like him- 
self, perfect. " She arose and walked — and he com.- 
manded to give her meat." 

O Savior, when thou dost enjoin our souls to arise 
from the death of sin, they cannot but obey thee — when 
thou shalt enjoin our bodies to arise fi'om our grave, 
they shall revive at thy voice — in vain shall our sin or 
the grave withhold us from thee. "For I am persuaded, 
that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, 
nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
height, nor de])th, nor any other creature, shall be able 
to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
Jesus our Lord." 



THE SAMARITAN VILLAGE. 375 



77.— THE SAMARITAN VILLAGE. 

The time now approached " when Jesus should be 
received up" — but he would take death in his way. He 
would be lifted up on his cross ere he ascended to 
heaven. Yet the contest is not mentioned by the divine 
historian — we hear only of the victory. Blessed Lord, 
the members of thy mystical body must also die, that 
they may be glorified — like thee, they must look beyond 
the grave to that transcendent joy which awaits them — 
like thee, they must rise superior to that hour of trial, 
which will terminate in a blissful immortality. 

Armed with divine resolution, our Savior, though 
aware of all the malice of his enemies, undauntedly " set 
his face to go to Jerusalem :" to the abode of his most 
inveterate opponents, the amphitheatre of his conflicts, 
the place where he was appointed to die. In his pro- 
gress from Galilee he passes through the region of 
Samaria, attended by the chosen band of his disciples. 

The animosity between the Jews and Samaritans had 
ever been productive of the most unhappy consequences 
to the contending parties. Fatally mistaking the spirit 
of religion, they polluted those streams of truth which 
should ever flow in the utmost purity, by controversy 
and unhallowed strife. No enmity is so desperate as that 
which arises from theological disputes. The champions 
in this unnatural contest dare to approach the Prince of 
Peace with confused noise, with wrath, and hatred, and 
contention — being more persecuting, more intolerant, as 
they are more deeply entangled in the mazes of error. 
Wilt thou not visit for these things, O God of truth 1 
Shall not thy soul be avenged on such profanations 
as these 1 

Our Savior demanded nothing at the hands of these 
bigoted Samaritans, but the accustomed rites of hospi- 



076 KALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

taiity fur himself and his companions — a Httlc food — a 
place where he might lay liishcad. Even this is refused, 
"because his face was as though he would go up to 
Jerusalem." The Lord of nature is denied an insignifi- 
cant portion of his gifts — he v/ho could have commanded 
iingels, sues to Samaritans — he whose unutterable ma- 
jesty fills the heaven and earth, asks a few hours' shelter 
ill an obscure village, and asks it in vain. The ardor of 
his indignant disciples, James and John, cannot brook 
this act of unkindness. With a zeal yet more i-eprehen- 
sible than the offence which called it forth, these " sons 
of thunder " would at once have recourse to the most 
horrible of all vengeance — " Lord, wilt thou that we 
command fire to come down from heaven and consume 
them, as Elias »did ?" Who can but shudder at this 
presumption, at this vindictive haste in those whom God 
had separated from a sinful world! This awful instru- 
ment of divine indignation had been very rarely exerted 
ajrainst mankind. The oi-acles of truth record no other 
instances of it than the tremendous doom of Sodom and 
its neighbor-cities — the punishment of the rebcUicnis Is- 
raelites — the trial of that gi'eat pattern of all patience — 
and the instance which the sons of Zebedee now would 
urge as a precedent. O God, how unfrequent are the 
demonstrations of thy wrath in comparison with the 
multitude of thy tender mercies ! 

Though the anger of the sons of Zebedee could not 
but be excited to see the great prophet and Savior of the 
world rejected, and treated with unkindness, we cannot 
palliate their rash ciiielty, their unjust and inordinate 
lage. Nothing is so evil as the corruption of what is 
good — a right zeal is not more laudable than its excess 
is hateful and dangerous. Without the use of fire miui 
would inevitably perish under the severity of the win- 
ter's cold — but what can be more dreadful than the fury 
of this dcvourincr clement when it invades our dwell- 



THE SAMARITAN VILLAGE. 377 

iDgs, or consigns our possessions to sudden desolation 1 
Thus sometimes zeal becomes Indiscretion — some- 
times frenzy — sometimes even murder. ** They that kill 
you, shall think they do God service." Blessed Is that 
zeal which Is well gi'ounded and well governed — ground- 
ed on the word of truth, not on unstable fancies — gov- 
erned, not by Intemperate zeal, but by wisdom and 
charity : wisdom, to avoid rashness ; charity, to avoid all 
just offence. 

O pure and heavenly zeal, the genial warmth and 
vital temper of piety, whither hast thou withdrawn thy- 
self from the hearts of mankind ] To what can we 
attribute thy departure but to the dreadful ravages of 
sin ] How many are there who think that wisdom con- 
sists only In cold Indlfierence — who freeze In miserable 
apathy, when they should glow with fervent devotion ! 
How quick and a|)prehenslve are we In cases where our 
own honor Is concerned, how Insensible of the Indignities 
offered to our Savior ! 

The disciples, erring In a contrary extreme, want not 
a pretext for their vehement request. "■ Ellas did so. 
Why should not we 1 He was a holy prophet — the 
occasion which led him to Inflict such vengeance was not 
altogether dissimilar — yet there the Indignity was offered 
to the servant, here to the Master — there, to a man ; 
here to the Son of God. Wilt thou not that we command 
fire from heaven, as Ellas did ?" There Is nothing more 
perilous than to consider all the acts of godly men as 
examples. Not only because they had the weaknesses 
and Infirmities Inseparable from nature, but because In 
some extraordinary circumstances the commission which 
they had received from above gave them that peculiar 
warrant, which If we expect, we shall expect in vain. 
We cannot therefore be too cautious in our Imitation 
of the best examples, save of thine only, O blessed and 
holy Jesus — lest we be drawn suddenly into the com- 



378 hall's scripture history. 

mission of sin, and our well-meant actions prove the 
destruction of our peace. 

The Son of God forbears not to chide where he best 
loves — he blames not our ardor, but will moderate its ex- 
cesses. " Ye know not what spirit ye are of." The fault of 
uncharitableness cannot be atoned for by zeal — the God 
whom we serve will not have the best cause supported 
by the violation of our duty. Can his good Spirit excite 
us to revenge, to animosity, to thirst of blood ? That 
Spirit, when he assumed a visible form, came not as a 
ravening eagle, but in a bodily shape as a dove. Not in 
the whirlwind, not in the fire, but in the ** still small 
voice " did God manifest himself to his prophet. O Sa- 
vior, what need we any other precedent than thine, by 
whose name we are called ] Thou camest to thine own 
— thine own received thee not. Didst thou call for fire 
to come down from heaven and consume them ? Didst 
thou not rather pray and weej), and bleed for their 
sakes ? Better were it for us, O Lord, to have no spirit, 
than to have any other than that which we derive fi-om 
thee. Thou hast left us an example, that we should fol- 
low thy steps. 

" The Son of man came not to destroy men's lives, 
but to save them." There, there is the tiiie and genuine 
spirit of Christianity. Then are our intentions praise- 
worthy, and our actions laudable, when they accord 
with this pattern of all giace and excellence. Blessed 
Savior, when we contemplate thy dealings with mankind, 
v,re find many lives preserved by thee from })crishing — 
some that had actually perished, recalled by thy voice : 
never any one destroyed at thy command. Thy power 
was able to control all nature. The unfruitful fig-tree in- 
deed withered away at the blasting of the breath of thy 
displeasure — but to man, how favorable wast thou, how 
indulgent ? So rejected as thou wert, so reviled, so per- 
beeuted, so laid wait for, betrayed, apprehended, airaign- 



THE TEN LEPERS. 379 

eJ, condemned, crucified, whom didst thou strike dead 
for these heinous indignities ? When the zeal of thy 
faithful apostle smote oif the ear of one of thine enemies 
who came upon thee to take away thy life, instantly thou 
didst touch his ear and heal him. When, after thy last 
glorious victory, thou didst rejoin thy disciples who had 
forsaken thee in the conflict, thou didst hail them by the 
endearing name of brethren. When bigotry and preju- 
dice refused thee the common offices of hospitality, thou 
didst depart in peace and meekness to another village. 
Surely the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness 
of God. O thou preserver of men, how can we sufficient- 
ly love and adore thy mercy ! Teach us to walk in thy 
footsteps, blessed Lord. Send thine Holy Ghost, and 
pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity. 
Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and 
evil speaking be put away from us, with all malice — and 
let us be kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving 
one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven 
us. Amen. 



78.— THE TEN LEPERS. 

It is the prerogative of misery to unite the most es- 
tranged hearts in one common band of friendship and so- 
ciety. Even the fixed and hereditary rancor between 
Jews and Samaritans gave way when this more power- 
ful interest prevailed. At the entrance of a certain vil- 
lage Jesus was addressed by ten men that were lepers — 
and one of them was a Samaritan. 

Excluded from all intercourse with the rest of man- 
kind, these wanderers sought relief in the company of 
each other. Community of suffering has made them 



3S0 hall's scripture history. 

friends, whom religion itself has disjoined. The unhap- 
py suppliants, with one consent, direct their steps to- 
wards our Savior — not casually, but on due deliberation : 
ihey had long and anxiously waited for this propitious 
moment, when the appioach of Jesus led them to hope 
for deliverance from so loathsome and miserable a dis- 
ease. The mighty Naaman, valiant and successful in war, 
the friend and favorite of his master, scrupled not, 
under the same circumstances of distress, to take his 
journey from Syria to the banks of Jordan for his cure. 
W<5 ai'e all sensible enough of our bodily infimiities. O 
that we could be equally weary of those diseases whicli 
affect our souls and endanger our eternal happiness ! 
Surely our spiritual maladies are no less than mortal, if 
they be not healed. O Lord, from thy power and thy 
mercy alone can vv'e expect a remedy. Give us gi'ace to 
teek thee, give us patience to wait for thee — so wilt thou 
f^urely find us, to our comfort and deliverance. Retun?, 
O God of hosts — show the light of thy countenance upon 
us — and we shall be made whole. 

Tlie lepers, standing afar off, as the law of Moses en- 
joined, lift up their voices with one accord, and address 
the Lord of life with all the energy of impassioned sor- 
row. "Jesus — Master — have mercy on us!" 

Dis'tant with respect to place, they are not distant 
with respect to the acceptance of their prayer. The 
Lord is nigh unto all such as call upon him, to all such 
as call upon him in truth. O Savior, while we are far off 
from thee, thou art near to us — never do we make such 
successful application to thee, as when we stand aloof in 
holy diffidence. The consideration of thy mercy leads us 
to come boldly to the throne of thy grace — but oh, how 
great is the majesty t)f that throne ! how great the un^vor- 
thiness which we bring with us into that awful presence! 

The sorrow of these sufferers, no less than their dis- 
tance, bade them cry aloud for help. Affliction " opens 



THE TEN LEPERS. 381 

the moutli of the dumb, and makes the tongues of thent 
that camiot speak, eloquent." Jew and Samaritan unite? 
in one common supplication. If \vc Avould obtain the 
favor of heaven, we must not content ourselves with 
private and solitary devotion — we must join our forces 
together, and put forth all their strength. Two are bet- 
ter than one, because they have a good reward for their 
labor. No fervent prayer is unheard, or unanswered ; 
but vvhen many faithful hearts unite in their jietition, 
they have the promise of peculiar favor from above. 
IIow can we fail of a blessing, (if we are not wanting to 
ourselves, and to God.) when the word of truth has de- 
clared, "All things whatsoever ye ask in prayer, believ- 
ing, ye shall receive V 

O wonderful power of the Son of God ! It was not 
necessary that the compassionate hand of Jesus should 
reach the objects of his pity. While yet they stood afar 
off, conscious of their infirmity, and not daring to ap- 
proach, a glance of his eye, a word from his sacred lips 
accomplishes the work of mercy — *' Go, show yourselves 
to the priests" — with whom, according to the institu- 
tions of Moses, it rested to ascertain the reality of a le- 
per's cure. They obeyed — " and it came to pass, that, as 
they went, they were cleansed." Verily thou art the God 
that doeth wonders. The voice of the Lord is mighty 
in operation — the voice of the Lord is a glorious voice. 

Not only evil must be avoided, but offence, Christ 
himself, who was above the law, would not transgress it. 
Of old he had ordained (through the ministry of the pa- 
triarch) that all persons restored to health after the 
plague of the leprosy should present themselves before 
God and his consecrated sei^^^ant, with a sacrifice of 
grateful love. The ordinances delivered from Sinai now 
approached to their consummation — but the veil as yet. 
was not taken away — he will not anticipate the appointed 
time, when the law should be succeeded by the Gospel, 



382 hall's scripture history. 

Alas, who were they, blessed Lord, to whom thou 
didst enjoin this tribute of respect and obsers'ance to be 
paid ? When we look to the priests of the Jews, we 
see pride, corruption, hypocrisy, professed hostility to 
thyself — yet all this will not induce thee to omit the at- 
tention due to their office. Had this duty been neglect- 
ed, what clamors would have been raised by the adver- 
sary ! What impious murmurs against the Lord of life ! 
They who scrutinized all his actions with such jealous 
malignity, who could discover a subject of accusation in 
the unwashed hands of his disciples, in the works of his 
mercy shown on the Sabbath, how would they have 
calumniated him, if by his neglect the law of leprosy had 
been palpably transgressed ! Now, Avhat a testimony is 
afforded to the power and truth of the INIessiah ! How 
could the Jews, whether priests or people, refrain from 
believing in our Savior, when such a positive jiroof is 
afforded them of his divine mission? One of themselves, 
even a teacher of their own, (Rabbi Mcnachcm on Lcvit. 
13,) asserts, that, by the common opinion of his nation, 
leprosy is the finger of God — a disease peculiarly of his 
sending and removing, and that it is not lawful for the 
physician even to attempt the cure of it. How could 
they but say, when they saw such a display of omnipo- 
tence, " This work is supernatural — no limited agency 
could do this — how is he otherwise than God, if his 
power be infinite ?" Tljough their unhallowed lips re- 
fuse to bear testimony to the truth, their own eyes shall 
be witnesses and judges of their conviction. 

The lepers themselves consider not the nature of the 
c(>mmand — they have respect to the authority of him 
who gave it. They obeyed, and went. Had they refused 
to comply, they had still been lepers — now, with what 
speed does the blessing overtake their obedience 1 The 
law enjoined this attendance on the priest, in case they 
were actually healed — now, they only anticipate the time 



THE TEN LEPERS. 383 

a little, and do that upon hope, which they must have 
done afterwards, when hope should be turned into joy.. 
But how is the mercy of Christ heightened, as well by 
the horrid nature of the calamity from which he rescued 
his suppliants, as by the easiness of the task he prescrib- 
ed as a prelude to their recovery ! It is the bounty of 
that God whom we serve, to reward our worthless en- 
deavors with infinite requitals — he will have no propor- 
tion between our acts and his remunerations. 

Yet, besides this recompense of obedience, O Lord, 
thou hast respect to thine own glory. Had not these le- 
})ers been healed in the way, but at the end of their jour- 
ney, the miracle might not have been attributed to thee, 
its only author — the priests might have challenged it to 
themselves — they might have ascribed it to the efficacy 
of their own prayers, not to the object of their jealousy 
and hatred. Now there can be no pretence whatever 
for competition — the leprosy vanishes in the icay — nei- 
ther thy power nor thy praise admits of participation. 

What joy, what amazement fill the hearts of this 
once mournful train, when each in the same moment 
finds himself restored to health, and to the enjoyment 
of those privileges of which his calamity had deprived 
him ! How do they congratulate each other ! how do 
they pant for the happy moment when their fi'iends 
and families shall welcome them to their aiTns ! Tl^eir 
society, which had alleviated their soitows, now height- 
ens their new joy. 

All were healed — one only was properly thankful — 
one man alone forsakes his companions, to prostrate 
himself at the feet of Christ, and to acknowledge his 
mercy. There are cases in which singularity is not only 
lawful but laudable. " Thou shalt not follow a multitude 
to do evil." It is a base and unworthy thing to be sub- 
jected to the example of others in cases of obvious duty. 
When evil is proposed to be done, or good to be neg- 



384 n.VLL's SCKIPTURE HISTORY. 

lectecl, how much better is it to walk in the right path 
alone, than to go astray with numbers ! 

But whom do we behold thus pouiing forth the effu- 
sions of a gi'ateful heart 1 Alas, were there not ten 
cleansed 1 Where are the nine ? One man only, and he is 
a Samaritan, ascribes the glory to God, and shows forth 
his praise. Blessed Lord, what an awful example is here 
afforded us of the folly, the sin, the danger of spiritual 
pride ! The Jews, to whom the terms of salvation v.-ero 
freely offered, neither valued the gift nor adored the Giv- 
er. The Gentiles heard with joy the blissful tidings — 
they heard, they believed, they obeyed. Now therefore 
are they no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citi- 
zens with the saints, and of the household of God — and 
are built upon the foundation of the apostles and pro- 
phets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief comer-stone. 

Even now. Lord, but for thy mercy wc are aliens 
from the commonwealth of the true Israel — our sins, 
like a leprosy, infect our souls, and fill our hearts with 
all uncleanncss. We are excluded from the gate of hea- 
ven, into which no impurity can enter. Lo, we betake 
ourselves to thee — thou beholdest our distress, and thy 
vv'ord effects our deliverance. Thou wilt make us a clean 
heart, O Lord, and renew a right sjjirit within us. No 
longer are we separated from our God — no longer are 
we objects of abhoiTence to ourselves and to thee. By 
grace are wc saved, through faith — and that not of our- 
selves — it is the gift of God. 

And shall we then imitate the churlish ingratitude of 
the Jewish objects of thy favor? Shall we not hasten to 
express, at thy feet, our sense of thine inestimable mer- 
cies ] Shall we not turn back from all other pursuits, of 
what nature soever, and adore thee, our Redeemer 1 Shall 
we not celebrate thy praise, O thou who alone doest migh- 
ty acts — whose mercy endureth for ever — who forgivest 
all our iniquities — who hcalest all our diseases — who sav* 



THE TRANSFIGURATION. 385 

est our life from destruction — wlio crownest us with lov- 
ing-kindness and tender mercies 1 Angels and archangels 
worship thee — the earth declareth thy power — the hea- 
ven thy glory. All thy works praise thee for ever — let 
not man be all that is insensible, all that is ungrateful in 
the world ! 



79.— THE TRANSFIGURATION. 

Hitherto have we contemplated thee, O Lord, in thy 
state of gi'eat humility — thy mercy now vouchsafes us a 
glimpse of that ineffable glory, whereof we can have no 
j)erftci idea on this side heaven. When we accompany 
thee to mount Tabor, we there behold thy majesty, shin- 
ing even in this region of thy shame and abasement. 
What then, O what is the splendor of thy celestial 
throne, the place where thine holiness and thine honor 
dwelleth ! Thou, who didst command thy chosen disci- 
ples to be silent on the subject of thy transfiguration till 
thou wert risen from the dead, now thou art risen and 
ascended, wilt have it spoken of throughout the world — 
that all mankind may acknowledge the fulness of the 
Godhead dwelling in thee bodily — that from this tempo- 
rary glory some judgment may be formed of that which 
is everlasting, 

*' Verily I say unto you, there be some standing here 
who shall not taste of death till they have seen the Son 
of Man come in his kingdom." Thine act, O Savior, is 
the best comment on thy words. Peter and the two sons 
of Zebedee were they who tasted not of death till their 
eyes had seen this heavenly image of the royalty of their 
glorified Master. The promise is immediately followed 

Script. Hiit. 17 



3S6 HALL S SCIUPTURE HISTORY. 

by its 2)eiTormaiice. They are called on to witness that 
sight \\hich the christian church views at this moment 
with the eye of faith — she beholds the grandeur of her 
Lord and Savior — she rejoices, and is glad. 

Tradition has ever assigned Mount Tabor as the place 
where this majestic scene was displayed to the astonish- 
ed aj^ostles. Surely the j^lace itself was not chosen with- 
out some mysterious import, as being itself an image and 
symbol of that heaven towards which it arose. How 
many times did God aj^point his acts of glory and mag- 
nificence to be done on these elevated stations ! How 
often is the region of eternal blessedness described un- 
der the name of the holy hill of God ! On Horeb he 
appeared to the gi'cat Shepherd of his people — on Sinai 
was the law delivered in all its sublimity. On Moriah 
the voice of Jehovah bare ■v\-itness to the triumphant 
faith of Abraham — on Rephidim Moses made interces- 
sion with God to crown the arms of Israel with victory 
and glory — on Ebal and Gerizim, the solemn denuncia- 
tions of the wrath of God against sinners, and his tender 
mercies towards his faithful servants, were recited to the 
assembled tribes — on Ramali and Gibeah the sons of 
the prophets received their visions and revelations from 
God — on Carmel the prayer of Elijah called down fire 
from heaven, when the Lord oj^enly showed his righ- 
teousness in the sight of all the people. AVho knows 
not that on Mount Sion stood that temj^lc which was 
the wonder of so many ages, the excellency of holiness 
and majesty? " I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, 
from whence comcth my help — my help cometh from the 
Lord, who hath made heaven and earth." 

He whose immensity filleth all space, knows no local 
distinctions — he is not, as was once impiously suggested, 
" a CJ^od of the mountains, and not a God of the valleys." 
But he would teach his peculiar people, that the viind 
should be raised above the earth, towards heaven — that 



THE TRANSFIGURATION. 3S7 

110 intervening object should keep from our view tliose 
blissful regions to wliicli our faith and hope are direct- 
ed to ascend. If we would be transfigured with Christ 
we must abandon all worldly thoughts, and seek those 
things v.-hich are above — we must leave below the cares, 
distractions, anxiety, labor, sorrow, servitude of the body, 
while with the spirit and with the understanding we go 
uj^ and worship) God. 

Thus removed from the busy eye of curiosity, tlie 
Savior of mankind appeared to his favored discij^les in a 
state of majesty and glory. His face did shine as the 
sun — his raiment was bright as the light. The law and 
the prophets, in the person of Moses and Elias, appeared 
and did homage to the Redeemer. That Moses, with 
whom the Almighty held converse as a m.an talketh to 
his friend — that Elias to Avhom God manifested himself 
in the solitude of the wilderness, paid their united adora- 
tions to Him, of whom Moses in the law and the pro- 
phets did write — to Him who came, not to destroy, but 
to fulfil their word. 

What comfort, what assurance of future blessedness 
was thus afforded to those living witnesses who were 
present at this stupendous scene ! With what joy did 
they behold these examples of the glory that shall be re- 
vealed ! They saw in Moses and Elias what themselves 
should be, after they had passed through the grave and 
gate of death. How could they fear being miserable, 
how could they be apprehensive at the idea of dissolu- 
tion 1 If one went from the dead, it was urged that he 
would impart conviction to the most obdurate. It was 
urged in reply, that Moses and the prophets bore testi- 
mony of equal magnitude and importance. Behold here 
Moses and the mighty prophet, and them too come as it 
were from the dead ! Behold, and consider that the 
saints of God are not lost, but departed — gone into a far 
country with their Lord, to receive a kingdom and to 



333 IIALl/s SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

return. They shall stand at the latter day upon the 
earth, when Jehovah shall come with ten thousand of his 
saints. Nor is this the condition of Elias only, who was 
snatched miraculously to heaven — Moses, who died and 
was buiied, is his associate. 

And shall none be seen with God but they who were 
present in Horeb, in Carmel, in Tabor 1 When Christ 
who is our life shall appear, then shall tve also appear 
with him in glory. We shall not all sleep, but we shall 
all be changed — while neither our sleep nor our change 
shall separate us from our God. O thou sersant of 
Christ, whether thou art called on to die, as in Mount 
Nebo, or whether the fiery chariot call thee, amidst the 
conflagi-ation of a world, from this vale of mortality, re- 
member that thou shalt behold his presence in righteous- 
ness ; that when thou awakest in his likeness, thou shalt 
be satisfied with it : so shalt thou triumph over thy last 
and most dreadful enemy, dispelling all his terrors by 
the blissful foretaste of glorj-. 

The amazed discij^les (their senses being overj^ower- 
ed by the magnificence of the spectacle before them) 
seem for a while to be lost in speechless ecstasy. Be- 
holding unutterable things, they arc entranced, as in 
some heavenly vision. At last their joy and wonder find 
words — "Master, it is good for us to be here!" 

But while their eyes are thus cheered with visions of 
glory, what accents meet their ears ! On what subject 
do the great legislator and the illustrious prophet hold 
converse with their Lord ! In the presence of those dis- 
ciples who still fondly adhered to the expectations of his 
temporal kingdom, they spake openly of his decease — 
*' they spake of his decease, which he should accomplish 
at Jerusalem." How could the apostles bear the idea of 
such a pai-ting? The throne of David was in their eye — 
how could they endure the scandal of the cross 1 The 
society of their Master was their joy and life — it was 



THE TRANSFIGURATION. 389 

deatli to tliiiik of liis departure. Yet, O Lortl, what a 
time dost thou select for thus aiinouncmg thy passion] 
lV/i€?i do thy blessed saints declare the wonders of thy 
love, and the bitterness of thine approaching sufferings ? 
Even in the hour, when that face did shine as the sun, 
which should afterwards be bruised and spat upon — 
when that head was encircled with glory, which should 
be crowned with thorns — when those garments -^vere 
bright and glittering, which should be torn and divided 
by thy rapacious and merciless executioners — when thou 
wast adored by the spirits of just men made perfect, who 
shouldst be scorned by the basest of men — in a word, 
when thou wast invested with the majesty of the eternal 
God, who shouldst afterwards be exposed to the utmost 
extremity of reproach, and shame, and torture. O Lord, 
we learn by this great example the proper subject of 
our most solemn meditations. We will never forget thy 
mercy — we will at no period whatever lose sight of 
the wonders of thy love. Henceforth will we *' know 
nothing save Jems Chrhl and him ci'ucified.^* 

O Savior, if thou wert so glorious in Tabor, what art 
thou now in heaven ] If this were the brightness of thy 
human nature, what is the excellence of thy Godhead 1 
Of this fulness we shall all receive. Thou art our head, 
we are thy members. We are already delivered from 
sorrow — hereafter shall we be received unto joy. Thou 
shalt change our vile body, that it may be like unto thy 
glorious body. These earthly tabernacles shall be bright 
as the sun — heaven itself shall be manifest on our coun- 
tenances — we shall be clothed upon with immortality — 
and in our flesh we shall see God. 

Let us look on ourselves, not so much with contempt 
of what we are, and were, as in the joyful hope of what 
we shall be. And when our courage is tried by the 
change of our bodies from health to sickness, from life to 
death, let us comfort ourselves with the assurance of this 



390 hall's scripture history. 

change from dust to incorruption. We are not more sure 
of our grave than our transfiguration. " All the days of 
our ajjpointed time will we wait till our change come," 



SO.— THE TRA'NSFlGVRATlO:<i—conti7iued. 

The display of heavenly glory which shone around the 
disciples seems almost too magnificent for human nature 
to sustain. Its effect upon their minds must be conceiv- 
ed — it cannot be painted or described. Scarcely do they 
lift up their eyes to this manifestation of the divine 
Majesty, when they cry, in broken accents of rapture, 
" Master, Master, it is good for us to be here !" They 
are anxious to prolong the stay of their celestial guests — 
" Let ws make here three tabernacles — 07ie for thee, and 
one for Moses, and one for Elias. Here let us abide, and 
all earthly honors, riches, pleasures, glories will be vaiu 
and contemptible. One day, one moment in this blessed 
society is better than a thousand years spent in the 
enjoyment of all that is dear or valuable to mortals." 

Lo, while they thus speak a cloud overshadows them. 
That cloud was of old the testimony of God's presence 
— it covered the mountain, the tabernacle, the oracle. 
While it bore witness to the majesty of Jehovah, it sig- 
nified that such majesty was not for the eyes of man to 
behold. Hereafter a day will come when we shall have 
the light without a cloud, the clear vision and fruition of 
God without any manner of interposition. With him is 
the well-spring of life — in liis light we shall see light. 

What astonishment was in the souls of the disciples 
while they stood encompassed by that bright cloud, ex- 
pecting some miraculous event at the close of the heav- 



THE TRANSFIGURATION. 391 

enly vision! With what inexpressible awe did they hear 
those sacred words resounding in their ears — *' This is 
my beloved Son, in tchom I am well pleased — hea?- kini.'^ 
They need not be told whose that voice was. The place, 
the words, the subject evinced it. No angel of heaven 
could have presumed to utter those expressions, where- 
by the Lord God omnipotent bore witness to the Savior 
of mankind. How gladly doth Peter afterwards repeat 
them, to establish and strengthen the faith and hope of 
his converts ! " We have not followed cunningly de- 
vised fables, when we made known unto you the power 
and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eye-wit- 
nesses of his majesty. For he received from God. the 
Father, honor and glory, when there came such a voice 
to him from the excellent glory, T/iis is my beloved Son, 
in lohom I am loell pleased. And this voice (which came 
from heaven) we heard when we were with him in the 
holy mount." 

Twice did God speak these words from heaven — at 
the baptism and the transfiguration of his Son. Here 
they are uttered as a direct and irrefragable testimony of 
the Messiah. Moses and Elias were servants — or if sons, 
they were made so by grace and adoption. Here is the 
eternal Son of the eternal Father, united with him in 
one essence, so beloved, that in him, and for his sake, he 
is well pleased with all mankind. Herein is love, infi- 
nite, incomprehensible as the God fi'om whom it flows — 
love, not confined to the ever-blessed Jesus, but extend- 
ed to his children, his disciples, his friends, his servants 
— yea, to all mankind. Without Christ, there is nothing 
but enmity betwixt Grod and the soul — with him, all is 
love and peace. Behold the Son of God, the reconciler 
of the world, the teacher and legislator of his church ! 
Behold him, demanding our faith, our love, our adora- 
tion, our obedience ! O Lord, we obey, we love, we 
believe, we adore. The Lord is our Judge, the Loi'd 



392 

is our Lawgiver, the Lord is our King, he will save us. 

The bright cloud caused wonder in the disciples — hut 
the voice, though the voice of mercy, overpowered their 
mortal faculties. Who can blame a frail and perishable 
creature for being thus affected by the voice of his Crea- 
tor? Yet this word was merely an exhortation to obe- 
dience unto life. O God, what shall be the hoiTor ai:.l 
consternation of thine enemies when they hear the dread- 
ful sentence of death ? Who shall not be afraid in that 
awful hour, when they who have slighted the gracious 
invitations of thy love shall call on the rocks to hide 
them from the terror of thy judgments ! 

The God of mercy pities our infirmities. While the 
disciples lay in a state of amazement, their whole souls 
absorbed by what they had seen and heard, the voice 
of the Redeemer of mankind awakened and comforted 
them — "Arise, and be not afraid!" That voice might 
well raise them from the earth which shall hereafter re- 
call them from the grave. O Savior, let those accents 
cheer us, let that gracious hand be extended to our re- 
lief; whether we are entranced in sorrow, or sleeping 
in vain security, or even dead in sin, we shall arise. 

** They looked up and saw no man, save Jesus alone." 
They saw him, and doubtless in his wonted form. All 
was now gone — Moses, Elias, the cloud, the voice, the 
radiant majesty. Heaven will not allow to earth any 
long continuance of its glory. Constant happiness can 
only be looked for and enjoyed in those regions where 
we shall behold our Savior in his unchangeable bright- 
ness — where the light shall be never clouded. 

Moses and Elias are gone — Christ only is left. The 
glory of the law and of the prophets was but temporary 
— it endured but for a moment, that the bringing in 
of a better hope might be more conspicuous, more 
perfect. Jesus Christ alone is the same yesterday, an<l 
to-day, and for ever. They came but to bear testimony 



THE TRAXSFIGURATIO.V. 393 

to the Messiah — when that is done they are vanished. 

But why should their departure occasion any regi-et to 
the disciples, as long as their Master was yet with them '? 
Had Jesus been gone away, it had been little satisfaction 
to them, when they recovered their scattered senses, that 
Moses or Elias, or both were yet on the mount. Their 
society, though glorious, could not have comforted them 
— their absence affords not a moment's sorrow. O Sa- 
vior, it matters not who is away, as long as thou art on 
our right hand to helj^ and defend us. Thou art God 
all-sufficient — while thou art our Shepherd we can lack 
nothing: though we walk through the valley of the sha- 
dow of death, we will not fear ; for thou art with us. 

But, O blessed Lord, why are thine enraptured dis- 
ciples compelled to silence ] Why may they not impart 
to their companions, why may they not publish to the 
world, the majesty and greatness of their Lord 1 It is 
sufficient that thy wisdom gave the charge, which it had 
been impiety and madness to disobey. It is not for frail 
mortality to know the times and the seasons which thou 
hast put in thine own power. The day was not far dis- 
tant v/hen thy rising from the dead should take off all 
restrictions — when the chosen witnesses of thy transfigu- 
ration should no longer be obliged to conceal the heaven- 
ly vision ; but should be at full liberty to confirm the faith 
of thy church, by recounting this prelude of thy glory. 

In the meantime they are prepared for the distressful 
scenes about to follow — " Let these sayings sink down 
into your ears — for the Son of man shall be delivered 
into the hands of men." Be not dismayed, nor shaken 
in your faith, when you see your Master betrayed, tor- 
mented, basely and sacrilegiously murdered. Let not 
your hearts be troubled — ye believe in God — believe 
also in me. Ye have seen a portion of my glory — be 
not discouraged or oflended when ye shall be once 
more selected from your brethren to witness mine 
17* 



394 hall's scripture history. 

agony. In that awful, that tremendous moment, re- 
member the bright vision on Mount Tabor. 

And can we then be ignorant, O Savior, of the proper 
object of our hopes and desires 1 Can we return to 
earth, after these subUme meditations, witliout tlie most 
ardent aspirations after that heaven which we have seen 
foreshadowed l There we shall be admitted to the par- 
ticipation of thy blessedness — we shall be received into 
the city of the living God, to the general assembly and 
church of the first-born, to the spirits of just men made 
perfect, to thee our gracious Redeemer, wlio sittest on 
the throne of thy co-eternal Father. How can we be 
attached to the delusions of the world, how can we 
dote on the misery of this fading life, and not rather 
fly up to the felicity of saints, to the society of angels, to 
that blessed contemplation, when we shall see God in 
himself, God in us, ourselves in Him l There shall be 
no son'ow, no complaint, no fear, no death. There no 
malice shall rise against us, no misery afflict us, no hun- 
ger, thirst, weariness, painfulness, temptation, shall set 
themselves in an-ay against us. There shall be rest from 
our labors, peace from our enemies, freedom from our 
sins. How many clouds of anxiety darken the sunshine 
of our joy while we remain here below ! Complaint of 
, evils past, sense of present, apprehension of future, share 
our lives amongst them. But there shall we be always 
joyful, always beholding the presence of .Him who hath 
purchased and prepared for us this unutterable glory. 

Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in 
the morning. O my soul, is there a heaven '? is there a 
Savior? is there jnire and perfect felicity under the 
shadow of his wings ] Lift up thine eyes to the ever- 
lasting hills — contemn the specious oflers of the world — 
acknowledge its misery and mutability — and fixing thy 
thoughts on the regions of eternal bliss, exclaim, Lord, 
it is good for us to be there ! 



THE LUNATIC HEALED. 395 



81.— THE LUNATIC HEALED. 

AVherefore, O Lord, when thou didst return from the 
scene of thy glorious tran,s figuration, were the people 
greatly amazed ] Why did they fly to thee with eager 
impatience ? Why salute thee with more than common 
veneration ? Was it not, that some remains of glory 
overshadowed thy countenance 1 Was it not that the 
form which veiled thy divinity bore testimony to thy 
celestial origin ! — that like thy great forerunner, with 
whom thou hadst been discoursing, when thou earnest 
down from the mount, thy face shone with more than 
mortal radiance ] Thou couldst not altogether, and in a 
moment, divest thyself of thy splendor. When the gi'eat 
luminary of heaven has finished his daily course, the eye 
still fixes itself with admiration on the vivid colors of 
the twilight. 

Whik our Savior was transfigured on IMount Tabor, 
his disciples who remained in the valley had been in a 
state of perplexity and distress. Three of his followers 
were with him on those heights, transported with joy at 
the miraculous proofs of his Godhead — the rest were 
attempting, but in vain, to deliver a miserable demoniac 
from tormenting frenzy. 

Much people had assembled to attend on Christ, and 
they will not depart till he is come down from the moun- 
tain. Their patient assiduity detained them on the spot 
whither their zeal and devotion had originally led them. 
We are not worthy the name of his servants, if we do 
not diligently seek the face of our Master, and wait for 
his salvation. 

After his retirement from the world, to hold converse 
with his eternal Father, and to receive the homage of 
i\Ioses and Elias, he returns into the plain to the multi- 
tude. He had been called apart for a season, to prayer 



396 hall's scripture history. 

and contemplation — now lie brings tlie gilts of healing, 
and imparts his divine instructions to the people. The 
ministers and stewards of his mysteries may learn their 
duty from the example of their Lord — they must either 
be preparing themselves, or seeking the conversion of 
others — one while in meditation, afterwards in action — 
alone, to study ; in the assembly to preach. They must 
give attention to " reading as w^ell as to exhortation and 
doctrine." 

Moses, when he came down from the mount, heard 
the shouts of idolatry in the valley — Christ is assailed by 
the noise of tumultuous discord. The scribes were en- 
gaged in vehement controversy with his disciples — they 
saw the Master absent, they saw a part of his train left 
behind, and they esteem this a proper moment for their 
assaults. The children of darkness avail themselves of all 
advantages ; still do they direct their weapons at the most 
defenceless. If we are for a moment removed from Him 
whom our soul loveth, we are buffeted with powerful 
temptations. 

Our vSavior, while yet on the mount, well knew what 
was passing in the valley — he hastens to the support of 
his disciples. As the darkness flies before the dawn, as 
the cloudy vapor is dispelled by the sunbeam, so do these 
cavils vanish at the presence of Christ. Never was it 
more conspicuous than at this moment, that mankind in 
beholding him saw the glory of the only-begotten of the 
Father. Instead of opposition, they are on their knees 
— here are now no quarrels, but humble salutations — 
malice, envy, prejudice itself is hushed in silent awe. 

The solemn pause is interrupted by the earnest sup- 
plications of an afflicted parent. He had in vain applied 
to the disciples, whose inability to afford him relief had 
doubtless exposed them to the scorn and sarcasms of 
the envious scribes. He noAv, vnxh. better hope of suc- 
cess, caats himself at the feet of Jesus. Whom will not 



THE LUNATIC HEALED. 397 

sorrow make both humble and eloquent 1 The case was 
a case of more than common distress ; and it was de- 
scribed accordingly. The child is lunatic — and that not 
merely from natural disorder, but from the possession of 
a cruel and merciless spirit which vexed him with inces- 
sant torture — a spirit which, triumphing in successful 
malignity, yielded not to the power of the sei'vants of 
Christ. *' I besought thy disciples to cast him out, and 
they could not — therefore, Lord, have thou mercy on my 
son." Despair of other help sends us immediately to 
the God of our salvation. Here only was the parent's 
refuge. The *' strong man armed " had seized on his 
child — none but a stronger than he could dispossess 
him. O God, spiritual wickednesses are ever ready to 
invade our souls — all human help is insufficient — thy 
mercy, combined with thy power, can alone effect our 
deliverance. 

Who can listen, without shuddeiing to this tale of 
wo, to the recital of sufferings like these 1 Frenzy has 
taken possession of this miserable youth — its fury is sec- 
onded by the malignant spirit, which at one time be- 
reaves him of his intellect, at another restores it, to his 
torment — at one time exhibits him a fearful spectacle of 
raging madness, foaming and gnashing his teeth — at 
another, languishing and pining away in melancholy de- 
jection — casts him, sometimes into the fire, sometimes 
into the water — (but rather for torture than dis2:>atch — it 
was too much mercy to let him die at once) — rejoices in 
the complicated mischief which he had brought on the 
creature of God. O Savior, what enemies have we to 
encounter ! how unequal are we to the conflict, without 
thy gracious aid ! Blessed be that triumph of thine, 
which deprived the principalities and powers of dark- 
ness of their usurped dominion, and brought light and 
salvation to thy people ! 

Who can listen without shuddering to this tale cf 



398 hall's scripture iilstory. 

wo ] Eut sliall we be insensible of those still more 
giicvous miseries wherewith Satan endeavors to over- 
whelm our souls ? Lo, he seeks to cast us into that fire 
whose everlasting burnings know no intermission — to 
distract and torture us with inordinate cares and sorrows 
— to make us rave, with ineftectual struggles, at the 
afflicting hand of God — or pine and languish in a state 
of spiritual decay, the victims of misery and desj^air. 

The unhappy father had not neglected the means of 
his son's recovery — he had brought him to the disciples 
of Christ, not as seeking them, but their Master. In the 
mysterious absence of Christ he sought for his remedy at 
their hands. Often had tliey prevailed over the spirits of 
disobedience — often had they exultingly declared, "Lord, 
even the devils are subject to us by thy word." With a 
degree of confidence therefore had the suppliant address- 
ed them — and now hov/ does his heart sink within him 
Avhen he finds that his hope is frustrated ? " They could 
not cast him out." No doubt the disciples laid their 
wonted chai'ge on this stubborn sj^irit — that charge 
which hitherto had never been without its eflficacy. 
With the utmost gi'ief and consternation they behold 
themselves baffled and overpowered, even in the pre- 
sence of their insulting enemies. Scarcely was the father 
of the demoniac more troubled at this event than them- 
selves. Perhaps they feared that their Master had (with 
himself) withdrawn that power which he had commis- 
sioned them to exercise. They knew not the purpose of 
his departure, or the time of his return. Was he ascend- 
ed into the heavens like the pro2:)het of old, and had he 
forborne to leave a portion of his spirit upon his followers ] 

When Moses went up into the mount, the faith and 
piety of the Israelites vanished with their guide. The 
followers of Christ were not thus unmindful of their duty 
— but the God whom they served would nevertheless 
make them remember his own supremacy. lie is no less 



THE LUxNATIC HEALED. 399 

glorified in our disappointment than in our success. If 
his graces were always at our command, they would 
seem naturally our own, and would excite a far less de- 
gi'ee of gratitude to their Author — now we are justly 
held in an awful dependance on that gracious hand, 
which gives, but excites not vanity — denies, but leads 
not to despair. 

The father of the demoniac complains not of the dis- 
ciples' inability to help — it had been injurious to have con- 
sidered as a crime what they felt that they could not do. 
In his address to our Lord he merely alleges the stub- 
bornness, and laments the invincible obstinacy of that 
evil spirit. 

And will not a compassionate Savior extend his accus- 
tomed mercy to this afflicted parent and his miserable 
child ? Will not that gracious voice speak comfort to 
the troubled soul, and mitigate those heart-rending sor- 
rows ] Alas, what do we hear] — "O faithless and per- 
verse generation, how long shall I be with you ? hov/ 
long shall I suffer you f O Savior, a bruised reed thou 
wouldst not break — thou wouldst not add more sorrov/ 
to a heart that was grieved — the cavils of thy malignant 
enemies, cavils too eagerly listened to by the impatience 
of soiTow, occasion these expressions of just displeasure. 

But soon shall that faith be revived which the sugges- 
tion of infidelity had caused to droop — he who had for a 
time been tempted to despair, shall suddenly be awaken- 
ed to joyful hope — " Bring thy son hither — if thou canst 
believe, all things are possible to him that believcth." 

What a happy change is here! "How long shall I suf- 
fer you ? — Bring him hither to me." The one is a word 
of anger, the other of favor ; his indignation does not im- 
pede his heavenly goodness. In the midst of judgment 
he remembers, he exercises mercy — his sun sliineth in 
the midst of the storm. Whether he smile or frown, it is 
all for one purpose, that he may support the weak and con- 



400 hall's SCKIPTURn iii^torv. 

vince the disobedient. O blessed Savior, wliitliev sljould 
thy ministers direct the power which tliou hast given tliem 
but to edification, and not to destruction 1 They are 
physicians — they arc not executioners : they give medi- 
cines to heal, not poisons to kill. Till that day when an 
all-righteous Judge shall say to the wicked, " Depart 
from me," it is the office of his ambassadors to invite 
them with tender entreaties to tlie participation of mercy. 

Already have these coals of fire melted the heart of 
this anxious supjjliant. Tears of penitential soitow burst 
from his eyes — "Lord, I believe — /)clp thou mi)U unbelief. 
Pity and forgive a wretched father, whom excess of mis- 
cry has betrayed into a momentary distrust — let not my 
infirmities prevent the restoration of my cliild. O gra- 
cious and lioly prophet, visit not my faults on him !" 

The youth is brought into the midst, that the scribes 
themselves might witness both the conflict and the vic- 
tory — the devil is rebuked, and driven out — that power- 
ful spirit which would not obey the commands of the 
disciples, stoops to the voice of the Master — the almighty 
Word which in the beginnino^ cast him out of heaven, 
can easily remove him from an earthly tabernacle. If 
the Lord rebuke thee, Satan, how canst thou do other- 
wise than flee ? 

The disciples, troubled at their own want of success, 
anxiously inquire its reason : little imagining that they 
should hear their unbelief assigned as the cause of their 
disappointment. Had they not been deficient in faith, 
they had not been deficient in jjowcr. Meanwhile they 
must pray to God that they may have the victory — they 
must fast, to make this prayer more effectual. We can- 
not now command — but we can fast and pray. Our God 
iiath not withdrawn from his servants the means of 
quenching the fiery darts of the wicked. If we are in- 
vested with christian armor, Jehovah will fight for us — 
Satan cannot prevail ngainst us. 



BETIIE.SDA. 401 



82.— B E T H E S D A . 



In the various actions of his life, our blessed Savior 
•was an example not only of moral virtue, but of religious 
obedience. The law enjoined every Hebrew to present 
himself three times in the year before the Lord. Though, 
as a Son, he might have pleaded exemption from this 
tribute of seiTice, he wovild not omit one of those ceremo- 
nies which himself had enjoined. Thus did it become 
him to fulfil all righteousness, whatever dangers might 
attend on the exercise of his duty. He had been con- 
strained to depart from Jerusalem, through the malice 
of those enemies who sought his life, ere he had yet 
accomplished the work of Him that sent him — he now 
returas, unappalled by every danger, regardless of all 
the fury of his adversaries — " In the volume of the book 
it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God — 
yea, thy law is within my heart." 

O Lord, how wonderful are thy works, whether per- 
formed in the ordinary course of thy providence, or by 
the immediate interference of thine almighty power, or 
by the ministry of thy holy angels ! Every where we 
find just cause of astonishment, just subject of adoration. 
In particular, how didst thou vouchsafe to display thy 
miracles to thy peculiar people, notwithstanding their 
blindness and apostacy ! If thou hadst not done among 
them works which no other nation beheld — if thou hadst 
not revealed thyself to them in a manner which no other 
nation ever experienced, they had not exhibited such 
a fearful example of obduracy and ingi^atitude. Now 
** have they both seen and hated both thee and thy Fa- 
ther ■' — although the works which were wrought among 
them bore such witness to the truth — although the de- 
monstrations of thy power were such as called for uni- 
versal conviction fiom mankind. 



402 hall's scripture history. 

The miraculous waters of Bethesda fixed on their 
brink a multitude of sufferers. There, in anxious expec- 
tation, they waited for that moment which should bring 
comfort to one, disappointment to multitudes. When 
the troubled state of the waters announced that the heav- 
enly visitant had bestowed on them their medicinal vir- 
tue, these jealous competitors rushed forward with eager 
impatience, in hope of that gift of healing which await- 
ed him who first plunged himself into the stream. 
Blessed Lord, how vast, how unlimited are those mer- 
cies which the bringing in of a better hope secured to 
thy creatures ! The grace of God which bringeth salva- 
tion hath appeared unto all men. " Whosoever will, let 
him come and take the water of life freely. In my 
Father's house are many mansions. Come unto me, 
all yc that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give 
you rest." 

Among these companions in misery, our Savior be- 
holds a wretched man, who for eight-and-thirty years 
had supported life under circumstances which seemed to 
render it an almost intolerable burden. Alas, what called 
this unhappy sufferer to the waters of Bethesda '? What 
reasonable ground of expectation could he possibly en- 
tertain that his endeavors would be crowned with suc- 
cess, in a trial which depended on personal speed and ac- 
tivity ] Others, affected in a different manner, must ne- 
cessarily have the preference. Vain must be the attempts 
of one, bowed down to the earth by 2:)ainful infirmity, to 
outstrip his fellows. Yet still does he persist — still does 
the energy of hope teach him to remain at that spot 
where alone he deemed a possibility of cure to be ex- 
pected. He persists, and continues his anxious labor — 
each returning season bringing along with it fresh hojies 
and fresh disappointment. 

O ye that are afflicted with spiritual diseases, come 
to that living fjuntain which is opened for sin and for 



BETHESDA. 403 

uncleanness. Approach the well-spring of life — those 
never-failing streams whose virtues are not temporary, 
whose blessings are not confined to one competitor — 
where every one that asketli receiveth, and he that seek- 
eth findeth, and none who apply with faith are sent 
empty and despairing away. Do ye complain of the 
blindness of your ignorance 1 Here shall yo receive 
clearness of sight — Of the infirmity of your best resolu- 
tions ] here ye shall obtain a fresh supply of grace — Of 
the tumultuous frenzy of passion ? here is peace to the 
troubled soul — Of the cold and withered languor of your 
zeal and piety]- here is life, and strength, and activity 
freely offered to your acceptance. Whatsoever sickness, 
whatsoever danger, whatsoever sorrow there be, come to 
your Savior, and be healed. 

Yet even here, as at Bethesda, the God of all hope 
will exercise the patience of his servants. He will have 
us sensible of the value of those blessings we solicit, that 
when they are imparted to us we may both enjoy them 
and praise his mercy the more. How enviously did these 
sufferers at the medicinal stream look on each other as 
rivals ! How did they watch, and suspect, and scruti- 
nize, and struggle for a preference ! How, like the jeal- 
ous candidates for earthly honors, did they esteem their 
expectation itself to be misery, and their disappointment 
torture ! But he who commits his way unto the Lord 
must hope for those gifts which he bestows at his own 
time, and in such a manner as is good in his sight. O 
that men would thus tarry at the true Bethesda, the 
house of the Father of mercies and of all comfort — O 
that men would " wait for thy loving-kindness, O Lord, 
in the midst of thy temple !" Did they diligently attend 
thine ordinances, did they value their own happiness 
aright, they could not fail of those blessings which thou 
hast covenanted to bestow. Alas, here, and here only, 
are they faint, remiss and indolent ! If their temporal 



404 hall's SCRiPTURE IIISTORV. 

welfare is to be consulted, tliey tany long, anJ endure 
patiently, and toil, that they may toil yet longer; submit- 
ting to certain misery for the sake of a few uncertain 
days of happiness. Why is it not thus with the soul ? 
The wretched patient at Bethesda, without even the 
probable means of support or comfort, would yet attempt, 
yet labor to attain the object of his wishes. And can we 
not, blessed Lord, can wo not then be equally solicitous 
to accomplish- the work of our salvation] Can we not be 
as ardent in our endeavors for our spiritual recovery 1 
What can be more important — what of nearer moment 
— what better deserving our most animated exertions, 
than the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus ? 

Our Savior when he beheld this child of sorrow, when 
in accents of loving-kindness and tender mercy he spoke 
as one that was touched with the feeling of his infirmity, 
did not ask the question without effect. He did not kin- 
dle the spark of hope in the sufferer's breast, to check it 
by subsequent despair. Christ, the 2)Ower of God, said 
unto the sick man "Arise " — and he arose. 

And wilt thou then, O sinner, be made whole ? Look 
unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith, and 
thou shalt be saved. Though thou art bowed down to 
the earth with infirmity, stooping under thy grievous bur- 
den — though thy sin hath taken hold on thee, that thou 
art not able to look up, depriving thee of that pnvilege 
which the most high God bestowed on m.an at his crea- 
tion — tura not a deaf ear to that gracious voice. Be not 
too hasty in pronouncing thyself free from all spiritual 
sickness, when it may be that the deadly contagion is 
making rapid advancers to thine heart. Say not, " there 
is peace and safety," while thou art encompassed about 
with an host of enemies. What hast thou to do with 
peace, so long as the sorceries of sin prevail against thee, 
anil her witchcrafts are so many ? 

How dear to human nature is the breath of life ! how 



BETHESDA. 405 

Strongly has the Author of our being attached us to ex- 
istence, though accompanied with every circumstance 
of pain and misery ! O Savior, if that Hfe which must ere 
long be succeeded by death is thus precious to us, how 
precious, how inestimable is that life which thou hast 
purchased for us, the inheritance of eternal glory in thine 
heavenly kingdom ! No grief, no pain approaches to af- 
fect those unsullied joys which are to be found in thy 
presence. We embrace, O Lord, we hold fast the bless- 
ed hope of everlasting life, given unto us by thee ! 

But who shall presume to dictate to the Almighty the 
precise time or manner in which he shaJl work our deliv- 
erance 1 The sufferer before us is not healed by those 
miraculous waters to which alone he looked for his re- 
covery. Relief and salvation are afforded him in another 
and still brighter form. vShall we despair of attaining those 
lieavenly gifts after which we are permitted to aspire ? 
Shall we be petulantly impatient, or as petulantly des- 
pairing '? Know we not that tribulation worketh patience, 
and patience experience — and experience hope — and 
that hope maketh not ashamed 1 Though the blessing 
be for a while delayed — though spiritual comfort may 
not be afforded at the moment when our solicitude would 
expect it, yet shall it surely come, and shall not taiTy be- 
yond its appointed time. What God hath promised, he 
is both able and willing to perform. If our earlier days 
have been visited with every species of distress — if our 
souls and bodies have been brought low unto the earth, 
yet the clouds which overcast the meridian of our life 
may disappear towards its evening, and our sim may go 
down in brightness and serenity. 

O Savior, thou art no longer conversant in person with 
mankind. Thou art returned to the participation of that 
ineffable glory wherewith thou wert invested " before 
the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and 
the world were made." But art thou not still present, in 



40G hall's scripture history. 

thy holy word, in tliy Divine ordinances? There dost 
tliou yet call to us — there dost thou address thy suffering 
children with the same mercy and the same jiower that 
called the languishing sufl'erer at Bethesda from soitow to 
joy, from weakness to strength, from anguish of heart to 
transports of gi'atitude. Wherefore then shouldst thou 
be afraid, O my soul, in the day of adversity 1 Why do 
fearfulness and trembling come upon thee, and an horri- 
ble dread overwhelm thee 1 wait thou only upon God — 
be strong, and he shall comfort thine heart — put thou thy 
trust in the Lord. 



S3.— THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. 

The life of Christ Avas a life of incessant labor. In the 
day he was in the temple — in the night in the mount of 
Olives. His retirement was for prayer — his public ap- 
pearance was for preaching. The multitude were yet 
divided in their sentiments. While some believed his 
word, there were too many on whom no impression had 
been made by the repeated demonstrations of his omni- 
potence. Among the scribes and Pharisees in particular 
all was malice and hostility. Messengers were sent and 
suborned to aj^prehend him ; nevertheless he retunied to 
the temple. Lord, thine example teaches us no less than 
thy precepts. It is for indolence or fear to be discoura- 
ged by opjiosition. When God calleth, we must over- 
look and contemn the displeasure of men. After a scanty 
liarvest we must sow — in spite of the fury of our adver- 
saries, we must yet ** speak in God's behalf" 

The auditors of Christ, though with different purposes 
of heart, are numerous and attentive. The people come 
to learn — ihc rulers to cavil and murmur at his doctrine. 



THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. 407 

Meanwhile a company of Pharisees jiresent themselves 
before him, under a pretence of zeal for justice and scru- 
pulous regard to virtue. As lovers of chastity and haters 
of licentiousness, they bring to him a woman convicted 
of the heinous crime of adultery. They have recourse 
to our Savior's authority, which on other occasions they 
impiously disregarded, that from his exercise of it they 
might find a new subject of accusation. 

The wretched criminal, standing in the midst of an in- 
dignant multitude, awaits her sentence with all the hor- 
ror and consternation of guilt. Her zealous accusers be- 
gin their plausible charge. Their own complicated wick- 
edness they imagine undetected — that they keep secret 
among themselves, every man in the deep of his heart. 
Little did they think that the moment was near ap- 
proaching when their own conscience should rebuke 
them more than a thousand witnesses, and the voice of 
God more than a thousand consciences. 

They who complain of the offence do not hesitate to 
point out the punishment. " Moses in the law command- 
ed that such should be stoned — but what sayest thou ]*' 
If they are not sure that Moses said so, why do they af- 
firm it 1 If otherwise, why do they question what they 
are aware is decided 1 It was their accustomed boast, 
" We are Moses' disci23les — we know that God spake by 
Moses." Gladly would they lead our Savior to contra- 
dict their great legislator, that they might take advantage 
of his contradiction. It is the common endeavor of the 
enemies of truth to set the law in opposition to the Gos- 
pel ; but they shall never be able to effect it by all the 
sophistry of malice. God hath joined them together — 
man cannot put them asunder. They are firm and indis- 
soluble associates : each speaks for the other, each estab- 
lishes the other. Moses was faithful as a servant — Christ, 
as a Son. The law was our schoolmaster to brimr us 
to Christ — He came not to destroy, but to fulfil. While 



403 HALL S SCUIPrURL HISTORV. 

by biin, aiul him only, all that believe are justified, the 
law is nevertheless holy, and the commandment holy, 
and just, and good. Even now must we adhere to the 
vioral law, if we would have our part in the bringing in 
of a better hope. So shall Moses lead us to Christ, and 
Christ to glory. 

Had the Pharisees proposed this question with an hon- 
est heart, in sincere desire of information, the reference 
had been wise and laudable. Whither should we have 
recourse, O Lord, but to thee, the Word of thy Father, 
the teacher of thy Church ? But here it was far otherwise. 
They came not to learn, but to tempt — and to tempt, 
that they might accuse. They had remarked our Savior's 
readiness to annul those false comments which their pre- 
sumptuous scribes had added to the law. They had seen 
his gracious and merciful disposition leading him on some 
occasions to acts which their scrupulous bigotry deemed 
contrary to the law. He had touched a leper — had healed 
on the Sabbath — had selected for his discij^les two ac- 
knowledged publicans. How shall he escape this artful 
stratagem 1 He must either second the decree of Moses, 
by sentencing this woman to death — or contradict that 
decree by dismissing her unpunished. If he command 
her to be stoned, he loses the honor of his mercy — if he 
pronounce her acquittal, he loses the honor of his jus- 
tice. Take away either of these, and he can be no vSavior. 

O the folly of vain men, seeking to beguile wisdom it- 
self! At first, silence and neglect shall confound them — 
at last, the word shall be spoken to their conviction. Our 
Savior stoops down, and, without vouchsafing an answer 
to these malicious and busy cavillers, with his finger ho 
traces characters on the ground, as though he heard them 
not. While by this cautious j^rocedure he avoided the 
snares which they hatl laid for him, he excited the more 
curiosity on their part, and led their eagerness into justly- 
deserved shnme. 



THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. 409 

The more reluctance they observed in Christ, the more 
do they press him with wearisome importunity. At length 
compelled to speak, he raises himself; and since their 
vehemence will not bear denial, gives them such an an- 
swer as they little expected to hear. ^^He that is without 
sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. There is 
not one of you but is as guilty as she whom you accuse. 
But your crimes are veiled in secrecy, hers are brought 
forth to light. You have more need to make your own 
peace by repentance, than to urge severity against an- 
other. If death be her due, let not the sentence be execut- 
ed by those unhallowed hands — your hearts know that 
ye are worthy, not to inflict, but to suffer punishment." 

What do we hear 1 These scribes and Pharisees were 
noted for their extraordinary and unexampled holiness — 
their demeanor was not merely inoffensive, but sanctifi- 
ed and austere — yet that all-seeing eye hath discovered 
latent wickedness in these specious professors. What se- 
cret is there, which our God searcheth not out 1 Though 
we retire into the deepest concealment, his power follows 
us — he observes all our actions — no bolts, no darkness 
can bring security — how then can we dare to offend ] 
Those crimes which from length of time are forgotten 
even by ourselves, are held in remembrance before 
God. Fearfully shall he recall them to our memory, and 
shall make us possess the sins of our youth. " These 
things hast thou done, and I kept silence ; thou thought- 
est that I was altogether such an one as thyself; but I 
will reprove thee, and set them in order before thine 
eyes." 

O wonderful transition from arrogance to remorse ! 
When the Pharisees hear the voice of Christ, hypocrisy 
itself is thunderstruck, and malice can maintain the 
contest no longer. These zealous asserters of the law, 
ashamed, self-convicted, ** went out one by one, begin- 
ning at the eldest e^en unto the last." A man can no 

Script. Hist. 18 



410 hall's SCRIi'TUnE HISTORY. 

more resist the stings of conscience than he can resist 
the power of God. He who placed it in our bosom, di* 
rects it to accuse — there is no denial when we are thus 
declared guilty. If our heart condemn us, in vain are 
we acquitted by the world. No wicked man needs to 
seek out of himself for a judge, an accuser, a witness, a 
tormentor. 

No sooner do these ii\'})Ocntes hear of their offences 
from the mouth of Christ, than they are gone — had they 
been struck with true remorse, they would rather have 
fallen upon their knees and said, " Lord, wo know and 
feel that thou canst trace our most secret sins — this ar- 
gues thy divine omniscience. Thou art able to discern 
our faults, art able also to remit them on our repentance. 
O pardon the iniquity of thy sei'vants — thou hast accused, 
do thou also absolve !" But an obdurate man can neither 
bear the mention of his sins, nor the presence of his 
Savior. The Pharisees turn their backs on the heaven- 
ly monitor and flee. Thou blind Pharisee, couldst thou 
as easily flee from the wrath, and from the vengeance of 
God, there would be at least some shadow of excvise for 
thy departure — but while in him we live, and move, and 
have our being, what doest thou ? whither goest thou 1 
Thou mayest banish thyself from his mercy — from his 
judgments thou canst not escape. 

Jesus is left alone. His perfect and spotless inno- 
cence, which knew no sin, shrinks not from the test pro- 
posed by himself The word was addressed to the 
scribes and Pharisees ; they dei^arted in guilty conster- 
nation from the temple. There yet stood the wretched 
adulteress. She might have retired, like her accusers — 
none constrained her stay — but that which sent them 
away, riveted her to the spot, Conscieiice^ She knew that 
her transgression was })ublit:ly denounced, and could 
not be denied even by herself — fastened there by her 
own bleeding heart, she awaits her doom in trembling. 



THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. 411 

No sooner had our Savior put to silence the vaunts of 
his hypocritical opponents, than he returned to his first 
gesture of seeming inadvertency — " again he stooped 
down and wrote on the ground." He now lifts up him- 
self, and as though he had not been aware of the conse- 
quences of his own decision, says, "Woman, where are 
thine accusers ] Hath no man condemned thee ?" 

O thou that art heavy laden with the insupportable 
burden of thy sins, whither shouldst thou betake thyself 
but to the presence of thy Savior] Couldst thou choose 
thine own refuge, to whom wouldst thou flee ? Happy 
are they, who, when convinced of their miserable de- 
pravity, can at once betake themselves to that Judge, 
who is their Advocate, their Redeemer, their Surety, 
their Ransom, their Peace. 

In a state of fluctuation between hope and fear, the 
criminal expected her decision — hope, in that her accu- 
sers were gone ; fear, in that she knew what she had de- 
serv^ed at the hands of justice. Had sentence passed 
legally. He, who would not intrude on the office of 
others, would not have opposed others in the execution 
of those righteous decrees once delivered by himself. 
Now, under these unexpected circumstances, his heaven- 
ly mercy hath its perfect work. Not that he would pal- 
liate the enormity of guilt — not that he would pass over 
this flagi'ant offence by a too gentle reprimand. But ho 
who once said, " Who made me a ruler and divider 
among you V said also, " Neither do I condemn thee." 
He came, not to be an arbiter of civil causes, nor a judge 
of the criminal, but a Redeemer of mankind — he came, 
not to destroy the body, but to save the soul. Such was 
his care towards this miserable offender — *• Go, and sin 
no more." How can we sufficiently magnify thy mercy, 
O blessed Lord, who, far from taking pleasure in the 
death of a sinner, so camest to save, that thou urgest our 
unkindness and ingratitude to thee in being miserable — • 
*' Why will ye die, O house of Israel ?" 



412 hall's scripture history. 

But, O tliou Son of God, though thou wouldst not ihtn 
be a Judge, thou wilt hereafter be. In thy first coming 
thou wouldst not enter into judgment with thy sen-ants 
— at thy second advent a world shall stand before thy 
tribunal. Thou shalt come in the glory of thy Father, 
with thy holy angels, and shalt judge every man accord- 
ing to his works. That we may not hear thy terrible 
voice spectking unto us, " Depart, ye cursed," let us now 
hear thy voice of mercy, " Go^ and sin no more.'* 



84.— THE THANKFUL PENITENT. 

The Pharisees were universally known to be the proud 
enemies of Christ — men intoxicated with their own 
fancied superiority — haughty and contemj)tuous toward 
others — severe in their manners, but hj^iocrites in heart 
— strict sectaiies, but persons destitute of true and vital 
religion. Yet even among these some were found ex- 
empt from the general censure of " despising the coun- 
sel of God against themselves." They could not only 
boast of Nicodemus and Gamaliel as their own, but could 
furnish another of their number, who was not so far 
blinded by prejudice as to be insensible of the honor 
and hajipiness derived from the presence of our Lord. 

The Savior of mankind knew no mean and partial dis- 
tinctions. Whether it were Pharisee or Publican who 
spake, his heart refused not their proffers of friendship 
and hospitality. Thus did his wisdom and mercy induce 
him to be all things to all men, that he might save the 
more. And shall we not, after thine example, O blessed 
Jesua, endeavor by all honest means to win the souls of 
mankind to thee 1 Shall we not strive to recover thoso 



THE THANKFUL PENITENT. 413 

from the snare of tlie enemy wlio are taken captive by 
him at his will 1 How vain is that pride, or that preju- 
dice, which leads us to stand aloof and sacrifice our 
charity, that we may avoid contamination ! If we can, 
without endangering our own souls, impress on the 
hearts of sinners a sense of their duty, by exhibiting re- 
ligion in its most amiable form, then do we walk in the 
steps of him who scrupled not to sit down to meat in 
the Pharisee's house. 

While th-e Savior of tlio world was imparting his di- 
■\'ine instructions, and suiting them to the capacity of his 
heai"ers, behold, ** a woman that was a sima43r " approach- 
ed that threshol-d, where, but for the presence of Jesus, 
she hud little to expect sav^e the extreme of rigorous jus- 
tice. They who valued themselves on their own righ- 
teousness could not but recoil from acknowledged guilt. 
What a sight was a notorious sinner to one who looked 
on the best of men as sinners, if not of the same persua- 
sion as himself! Yet n-either the known severity of the 
man, nor the probability of an unkind recej)tion, can pre- 
vent her from seeking after the God of comfort. No dis- 
advantage can deter tlie penitent soul from a speedy re- 
course to Christ. Were Jesus indeed amidst his ^lis- 
ciples, were he among a multitude of the people, were" 
he in the house of son^e hinmble Publican, she migfht 
have approached with less charge of presumption, with 
less danger of repulse — bait every moment is precious to 
those who would be reconciled to God. Dif^ress must 
not be too scrupulous — faith must not indulge ill-gi*ound- 
ed fears. We are not worthy of the comfort of thy pre- 
sence, O God of our salvation, if wheresoever we know 
thou art, we do not hasten thither to implore thy mercy. 

The place was not more unpropltious than the time. 
The house of a Pharisee might seem as ill suited for a 
sinner as the tears of a pciiltent to the hour of festi- 
vity. ** To every thing there is a season" — what could 



41,4 hall's scripture iiistorv, 

be more discordant than sorrow in the mid.-it of joy 1 
Ahi-s, these trifling considerations have no weight with 
an anxious soul which would make its peace with God. 
The heart which has felt the stings of remorse, and is 
earnestly desirous of pardon, can scarce delay the ex- 
pression of what it feels, and cannot be confined to com- 
mon terms and circumstances. 

Whence then was this zeal, this fervency 1 Doubtless 
she had heard from the mouth of Christ, in his divine ad- 
monitions to the people, many gracious invitations to the 
troubled and afflicted soul. She had seen him amidst 
Publicans, amidst enemies ; she had noted many acts of 
his transcendent mercy. Deep contrition is in her heart 
— the arrows of the Almighty are fixed there, and drink 
up her spirit. Is there no balm in Gilead ? Is there no 
physician there 1 Who is this that cometh, travelling in 
the greatness of his strength 1 Thou, Lord, that speak- 
est in righteousness, mighty to save ! She comes in and 
finds the Redeemer whom she sought— she comes, with 
the oblation of a penitent and grateful heart. The irre- 
gularity of her life had not erased from her mind those 
precepts which she had too frequently, too notoriously, 
transgressed. She could not but remember that none 
could appear before the Lord empty. To testify her re- 
verential devotion, she biings an alabaster-box, pure and 
costly, fit for the reception of those precious odors, 
which she had prepared for the Savior of mankind. 

The soul which is truly sensible of its sin, can think 
nothing too dear, too valuable, as an atonement, to 
make reconciliation with the offended JMajcsty of heaven. 
" Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow my- 
self before the most high God 1" MIcah, 6 : 6, 7. The 
repentant sinner begins with the tender of burnt-offer- 
ings and calves of a year old — thence he ascends to hec- 
atombs — thousands of rams — ten thousand rivers of oil. 
Nay, ho would bo content, like the heroic patriarch, to 



THE THANKFUL PENITEKT. 415 

give his very first-born, the object of his fondest, tcnder- 
est affection, to expiate the sin of his souL Any thing, 
every thing is too small a price for peace. O Savior, we 
bring thee the tribute of our humble obedience — all that 
we have, or are, we consecrate entirely to thee. What 
earthly retribution can compensate thine inestimable mer- 
cies ? If we have devoted a portion of our days to sin, to 
vanity and folly, lo, we now turn unto thee with contrite 
hearts, and earnestly imjilore forgiveness. Teach us 
henceforth to employ all our time, all our abilities, to 
thy glory — weak and inadequate, alas, are our best en- 
deavors to testify our sense of thy mercy and our own 
unworthiness ! 

The ponitent, whose courage had induced her to vcn- 
turc into the presence of the Savior, dares not yet behold 
the beams of his awful countenance. She casts her de- 
jected eyes to the earth, and will not so much as raise 
them to Him from whom she seeks commiseration. An 
humble diffidence is both a token and an efftct of grace, 
" Were they ashamed when they had committed abom- 
ination ] yea, they were not ashamed, neither could 
they blush — therefore they shall fall." O God, could we 
but think how wretched we are by nature, how vile 
through our actual transgressions : how glorious, how sa- 
cred, how powerful thou art, before whom the brightest 
angels veil their faces, with what sentiments of fear and 
veneration should we approach thy majesty ! What is 
i/ian, who is a worm ? and the son of man, wblcli is a 
"worm ? 

Behokl here not only shame but sorrow — the heart 
which had been devoted to sin now melts witli giief and 
contrition. Whence was this change but from the secret 
working of the Spirit of God ? He smote the rock, and 
the waters gushed out. The feet of the Savior are be- 
dewed with penitential tears. " Blessed are they that 
DQOuro — for iho.y shall be comforted." They have sown 



416 hall's scripture history. 

in tears-;- they shall reap in joy ; their just affliction and 
abhonence of those sins which they have renounced, shall 
be graciously rewarded with a plenteous increase of hap- 
piness and glory. 

Meanwhile not a word escapes from the mourner's 
lips. In the eloquence of silent grief she pours forth her 
soul before her God — every look, every gesture is vocal. 
The religion of the hypocrite is in his tongue, not in his 
heart — the true christian had rather give proof of his 
faith by his actions than his words ; as well knowing 
that not he who commendeth himself is approved, but 
whom the Lord commendeth. 

The Pharisee saw all this ; but with an evil eye — in- 
fidelity, instead of compassion, is excited in his soul. ** If 
this man were a prophet he would have known what 
manner of woman this is that toucheth him — for she is a 
sinner." O Pharisee, how dost thou undervalue not only 
thy guest, but his weeping suppliant 1 A prophet 1 Yea, 
I say unto thee, and much more than a prophet. His om- 
niscience not only is acquainted with the son'ows of a 
contrite heart, but even now reads what is passing in 
thine ; while the humble penitent, no longer a sinner, but 
a convert, hath quenched the fiery darts of the wicked 
one by the tears of unfeigned remorse. 

But why was it inconsistent with the knowledge or 
the holiness of the prophet to accept these demonstra- 
tions of grief and shame 1 How was the purity, the per- 
fection of thy glorious guest impeached by this exercise 
of his mercy? "Behold" in him "the Lamb of God, who 
taketh away the sins of the world." How unjust, then, 
how ill-grounded is thy censure ! 

The Pharisee spake — but it was within himself. "Jesus 
answered." What we ihiyik we speak to our hearts, and 
we speak to One who hears us. The busy intruder 
may present itself, and be rejected with scorn — so far we 
are guiltless — but if we give it welcome, though we of- 



THE THANKFUL PENITENT. 417 

fend neither in word nor action, the blasphemy of the 
heart, the murder of the heart, the adultery of the heart, 
shall be answered by the just indignation of God. Here the 
Savior of the world saw nothing but ignorance and sim- 
plicity, and he conveys reproof by gentle insinuation. By 
a short but interesting parable he opens the eyes of this 
blind Pharisee. Out of his own mouth he judges him; and 
proves to his conviction, that where there is greater mercy 
in the forgiveness, the love and gi-atitude of those who are 
pardoned are excited in a proportionate degree of ardor. 

Then turning his face to the poor penitent, (as one 
who regarded a true humiliation for sin more than the 
highest vaunts of affected holiness,) he bestows on her 
that solemn absolution which she had asked with tears, 
but which her voice had not dared to implore. " Her 
sins, which are many, are forgiven." How did this 
gracious voice impart new life, new animation to her 
drooping spirit ! Not more powerful was that word, 
when in the first confusion of universal nature G od spake, 
^' Let the earth bring forth grass " — when in a moment 
the face of creation assumed its new luxuriance — burst- 
ing forth into leaves, and buds, and blossoms, and fruits. 
When the ear heard thee, O Savior, then it blessed thee, 
and when the eye saw thee it gave witness unto thee. 
Her former tears said, *' Who shall deliver me from the 
body of this death ]" Those she now sheds say, '' I 
thank God, through Jesus Christ my Lord." 

Seldom do we find so thorough a penitent — seldom so 
gracious a dismission. Now does the Pharisee envy one 
whom he lately scorned. What can be wished by any 
mortal, but remission, safety, faith, peace ! All here 
combine to make a contrite soul happy. Remission the 
ground of her safety — faith the ground of her peace. 
Salvation the consequence of her pardon — and t!ie effect 
of righteousness, imputed through Christ, ** qiiietnes* 
and assurance for ever." 

IS* 



418 hall's scripture history. 



85.— MARTHA AND MARY. 

Our Savior was in his progress to Jerusalem, to some 
holy feast. His devotion neglected not any of those 
august solemnities which the great legislator of Israel 
had enjoined. In his way (assured of a grateful wel- 
come) he turns aside to the village of Bethany. We 
have already seen him the g-uest of a contrite publican 
and of a rigid Pharisee — we now bdhold him under that 
roof where his benignant spirit partook of the delights 
of holy friendship. There dwelt the devout sisters of 
Lazarus, and their brother whom Jesus loved. O holy 
and blessed family, how should we envy your felicity 
were we not even now partakers of your high privilege ! 
When we extend our charity and hospitality to one of 
the least of our brethren, we do it to our Savior — if he 
is an hungered we feed him — if he is thirsty we give 
hira drink. Nay more — when our faith and jiiety hath 
its perfect work, we abide in him, and he in us. " If a 
man love me, he will keep my words — and my Father 
will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our 
abode with him." Be it unto us, O Lord, according to 
thy word — enter in and abide with us, not for a limited 
time, but through the ages of eternity — satisfy our souls 
with thy presence — speak that gi'acious word, " This is 
my rest for ever — here will I dwell !" 

No sooner is Jesus within the friendly mansion of 
Lazarus than he begins to impart his heavenly instruc- 
tions. How dear, how precious was every word that fell 
from those sacred lips ! Every moment he accounted as 
lost, wherein he promoted not the salvation of mankind. 
" My meat and drink is to do the will of Him that sent 
me, and to finish his work." How should they who ai'e 
ordained to be ministers of the word of life follow this 
illustrious example ! How should they who arc appoint- 



MARTHA AND MARY. 419 

e<l as lights in the christian world, dispense without in- 
termission the beams of heavenly truth — instant, at every 
season, to reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all diligence 
and care I 

Domestic avocations occupy one of the sisters of La- 
zarus — the other remains at the feet of Jesus, in humble 
and submissive attention to his heavenly doctrines. The 
one was desirous to express her thankfulness for the pr(^- 
sence of so blessed a guest, by more than common solici- 
tude for his entertainment — the other, in fixed compo- 
sure, remains riveted, as it were, to the ground, unwil- 
ling to lose one accent of that voice which was able to 
make her wise unto salvation. 

At length the anxiety of Martha for the welcome of 
her Savior leads her to complain to him of the neglect 
of Mary. In terms of eager expostulation she exclaims, 
' Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to 
serve alone]" She knew that as long as Jesus preached, 
Maiy was fixed, as with chains of adamant, at his feet, 
unless his own interference dismissed her. 

And does the sister of Lazarus then presume to dic- 
tate to the Lord of heaven and earth 1 to tax him with in- 
attention and neglect? to prescribe to his infinite wisdom, 
instead of receiving directions from his mouth 1 Alas, how 
ready is our weakness, upon the slightest cause of discon- 
tent, to mumiur against a good and gi'acious God, as if 
he neither heard our voice nor beheld our sorrows ! If 
v/e gToan on the bed of sickness, tormented with pain, 
and complaining of the wearisome nights of ang-uish, how 
ready are we to exclaim, " Lord, dost thou not care that 
we suffer'?" If the church of Christ is in apparent danger 
— if our adversaries are the chief, and our enemies pros- 
per — if they roar in the midst of the congregation, and 
set up their banners for tokens, immediately we ci-y out, 
*• Lord, dost thou not care V But be assured, O thou 
feeble and distrustful soul, that the more thou sulTcrest, 



420 hall's scripture history. 

the more thou art in calamity, so much the more thou 
art loved and cared for. Never is God more truly a 
Father than when he visits thee with salutary correction. 
Thou knowest, Lord, the works, and the labor, and the 
patience of thy servants — we may be ignorant of thy 
counsels — we may not see the hand that chastises us — 
thou canst not but be gracious. 

The devout Mary could not hear this complaint with- 
out a degi'ee of sorrow and astonishment. She could not 
but think, "If I have offended, why was I not admonish- 
ed less publicly ] If I have omitted any duty of practical 
religion while absorbed in these heavenly meditations, 
why must I be reproved in the presence of my Savior 
and his disciples 1 Lord, dost thou not care that I am 
injuriously censured ]" But her devout spirit was too 
well versed in the faith of Christ to engage in angry con- 
troversy. Not a word escapes her lips. In silence and 
meekness she hears the accusation of her sister. JMartha 
blames her for her piety — the disciples afterwards blame 
her for her bounty, (John, 11 : 3) — still does she possess 
her soul in patience. " Grievous words stir up anger 
— therefore leave off contention before it be meddled 
with." She is slow to speak, slow to ^vl'ath — committing 
her vindication to Him who is a discerner of the thoughts 
and intents of the heart. 

What need had she to plead for herself when she had 
such an Advocate ] Doubtless Martha had entertained 
the thought that her sister would be dismissed with re- 
buke, herself with thanks. Now her expectations fail : 
and though she be not directly reproved, she hears the 
just tribute of preference bestowed on Mary — '* Thou 
art careful and troubled about many things — but one 
thing is needful." Our Savior was not insensible of the 
courtesy which sought to give him grateful welcome — 
but he will not overlook her eiTors, or justify her weak 
misapprehensions. No obligation should so far weigh 



MARTHA AND MARY. 421 

with us, as to prevent us from discovering and reprov- 
ing the faults of those we love. Those are base and ser- 
vile spirits which refuse to utter a word in due season. 
" Admonish thy friend — it may be he hath not done it — 
or if he hath, that he do it not again." In some degree, 
our care must necessarily extend to earthly things. Reli- 
gion is not confined to duties merely speculative ; nor 
must we be so far lost in contemplations, however sub- 
lime, as to forget those concerns which belong to this 
our state of warfare, till our change come. He that pro- 
vides not for his own, and specially for those of his own 
household, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an in- 
fidel. But our care must be free from distraction, free 
from distrust — from distraction, that it interfere not with 
the due exercise of piety and charity — from distrust, that 
while we use our best endeavors, we may still rely up- 
on the providence of God. 

How different from this care is that of the worldling ! 
God is not in all his thoughts — Christ dwelling not in his 
heart by faith. One man finds perplexity and trouble in 
his estates — another labors to aggrandize his family — an- 
other is deprived of present happiness by fears of a re- 
verse, revolving in his anxious mind the precarious con- 
dition of all things, and opposing his fears to his hopes — 
another studies how to escaj^e (perhaps how to retaliate) 
the machinations of his enemies. O ye children of men, 
why are ye thus careful and troubled about many things ] 
why do ye impose on yourselves these unnecessary bur- 
dens, so grievous to be borne ? why do ye groan under 
a weight, from which the kind Providence of God hath 
offered to relieve you 1 Hath not he commanded you to 
cast all your cares upon him, promising that he will make 
you the objects of his care 1 Why are ye not as ready 
to depend on your heavenly Father, as he is to exert his 
power and mercy in your hehalf 1 

While Martha is gently reproved for her solicitude, her 



422 hall's scripture history. 

eister is commended for her devotion. " One iliing is 
needful ; and Maiy hatli chosen that good part which 
shall not be taken away from her." One thing is needful 
— not as superseding the necessity of every thing else — 
but as asserting its just claim to pre-eminence. Earthly 
duties must not set aside those of a spiritual nature. If 
without attention to the former we cannot live tempo- 
rally, without regard to the latter we cannot live eter- 
nally. Both are necessary in their degree — hut the last 
is most highly momentous. There is no opposition be- 
tween these, but a just subordination. The body and 
soul should be friends, not rivals : the christian should re- 
member that he is a man — the man, that he is a christian. 

O blind and senseless vanity, which, neglecting that 
one thing necessary, affects so many things superfluous — 
which considers nothing as needless but that which is 
indeed of the utmost im2:)ortance — which loses an ines- 
timable treasure it knows not how to value, while it 
cares unduly for the fleeting and unreal pageantry of a 
transitory world ! 

The freedom of our will remains inviolate, though the 
grace of God alone bringeth salvation. " Mary hath cho- 
,s 671 the good part " — there is no force, no compulsion — 
all is voluntary choice. Good and evil are set before us 
— we are in possession of perfect freedom, through the 
mercy of him who hath set us free. We are called to 
christian liberty ; happy are we, if we can improve it to 
the benefit of our souls ! 

The stability and perpetuity of good adds much to its 
value. What Mary chose shall not be taken away from 
lier. The act of her hearing was transient, the fruit was 
permanent. What she now receives into her ear, is 
gi'afted inwardly on her heart, and shall remain there 
for ever. 

What couldst thou hear, O Mary, from those sacred 
lips which we hear not still ? That hoavenly doctrine is 



THE BLIND BEGGAR CURED. 423 

ever the same ; not more subject to change than the 
Author of it. Its benefit and virtue are as inseparable 
from our souls as the souls of the faithful from God. 
The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of 
the Lord endureth for ever : and this is that word which 
by the Gospel is preached unto us. In the tempest of 
affliction, in the night of sorrow, it shall adhere stead- 
fastly to us ; and till death, in death, after death, shall 
make us happy. 



86.— THE BLIND BEGGAR CURED. 

" Jesus passing by, saw a man which was blind from 
his birth." The case of such a sufferer required not 
merely art but power — a power no less than infinite, no 
less than divine. Nature presuj^poses matter, though 
without form — art looks for matter formed to our hands. 
God regards not either — his omnipotent word alone can 
create — he calleth those things which be not, as though 
they were. Great is the Lord, and great is his power, 
yea, and his wisdom is infinite. Such as this object of 
compassion appeared to our Savior, such are we with 
rCvSpect to all spiritual things. We want not only sight, 
but eyes — it is his grace and mercy which makes us 
capable of receiving illumination. 

The blind man sat begging — he must be indebted for 
relief to the charitable eyes of others. The poor, the 
sick, the desolate are cast upon our mercy. Happy are 
we, if we can supply the place of limbs and senses to 
the needy, if we can be ministers of God to them for 
good. When the hour of adversity comes upon us, light 
will arise in the midst of darkness, if we can indulo^c the 
grateful reflection that we have been eyes to the blind 



424 hall's scripture history. 

and feet to the lame — that wo have delivered the poor 
that cried, the fatherless, and him that had none to help 
liim — that the blessing of them that were ready to perish 
came upon us — that we caused the widow's heart to 
sing for joy ! 

Where should he seek for pity and relief hut at the 
gate of the temple ? True piety and true charity are 
inseparable — they are twin stars which shine not singly 
on the soul. Then are we best disposed to mercy to- 
wards our brethren, when we come to implore the divine 
mercy towards ourselves. How can we refuse our mites, 
when we come to ask for talents ] 

Jesus passed by ; but his eye was fixed on the helpless 
sufferer. His goodness antici2:»ates our solicitations — he 
knows our necessities before we can express them — he 
gives us those things which for our unworthiness we 
dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask. With his 
accustomed mercy the Savior of mankind cast a gracious 
look on the dark and disconsolate object before him. If 
we suffered, and our God regarded not, we should in- 
deed be the victims of despair — but his eyes are on the 
ways of men — their sorrows are all in his sight. O Sa- 
vior, why should we not imitate thee in this thy charity ? 
Wo to those eyes which can gaze only on beauty, mag- 
nificence and gi'andeur; and turn away with disdain 
from poverty and anguish ! 

The disciples as well as Christ behold the blind man, 
but with difierent impressions — " Master, who did sirij 
this man or his parents, that he was born blind 1" The 
answer is direct and positive — there was a higher cause 
— the glory which would redound unto CJod by this de- 
monstration of mercy. The divine visitations are not all 
punishments — some ai*e for our tnal, our warning, or 
our reformation — all show forth the power, the justice 
and the goodness of God. 

He who at first made man out of the clay, with clay 



THE BLIND BEGGAR CURED. 425 

anoints the eyes of him that was born blind, and sends 
him to the pool of Siloam for the completion of his re- 
covery. All things receive their virtue from divine insti- 
tution. How could bread and wine strengthen and re- 
fresh the soul but for the blessing annexed to it from 
above 1 On this depends all their use and all their effi- 
cacy. Jordan can then heal the leper, and Siloam give 
light to the blind. " He went his way, and washed, and 
came, seeing." 

O Lord, what were the thoughts of this object of thy 
compassion when his eyes were now first given him ! 
Into what a world of wonders did he find himself trans- 
ported ! How did he gaze with admiration on the heav- 
ens and earth, the faces and shapes of all creatures, the 
varieties of colors around him, the cheerfulness of the 
light, the lively beams of the sun, the vast expanse of the 
air, the limpid transparency of the waters, the glorious or- 
naments of the temple, the stately palaces of Jerusalem ! 
Every thing was full of delight, full of astonishment. 
With what sensations, O blessed Savior, will thine happy 
servants enter into the joy of their Lord ! How will 
they be affected, when the darkness of mortality being 
done away, they shall behold thy presence in righteous- 
ness — when they shall be called on to witness the felicity 
of that other world, the exaltation of thy saints and 
angels — the majesty of thy throne — the incomprehensible 
brightness of thy glorious Godhead ! O my soul, set 
thine affections on things above, not on things on the 
earth — accustom thy thoughts to a foretaste of that heav- 
en to which they should aspire — keep it ever in remem- 
brance, that the objects of earthly ambition have no value 
when compared with "that true glory which excelleth." 

The beggar who had asked alms at the gate of the 
temple could not be unknown to the inhabitants of Jeru- 
salem or of Judea — his own calamity, the place of his 
resort, the importunity of his requests, had made him 



42G hall's scripture history. 

every way remarkable. Our Savior purposely made 
choice of such a subject for his miracle — one so pooi', 
one known so publicly. The veiy doubts, the very inqui- 
ries of those who questioned his identity tended more to 
the confirmation of the truth. The Jews could not be- 
lieve that he, who now looked on them with confidence 
and joy, was the v/retched suifercr whom they had so 
lately seen in darkness and misery, till they obtained 
demonstration that prejudice itself was unable to gainsay 
or resist. The miracles of Christ caused a sensible alter- 
ation in men, not more in their own apprehension than 
in the judgment of others. Thus in the relief of our spi- 
ritual blindness, the whole habit of the man is changed. 
Before, the face was dark and gloomy — now it is full of 
light and cheerfulness, through the knowledge of God 
and the hope of heaven. Before, the heart was devoted 
to earthly things — now, the convert uses this world as not 
abusing it. Before, his thoughts and anxieties had refer- 
ence only to his body, his estate, or the opinion of man- 
kind — now, they regard the displeasure of God and the 
peril of his soul. If any man be in Christ, he is a ?ieio 
creature — old things are passed away — behold, all things 
are become new ! 

The subject of these doubts is himself eager to remove 
them — ** I am he." He would not conceal from others 
the mercies he had experienced — he would not be so 
unjust, or so ungiateful, as to suppress the loving-kind- 
ness of God. We are not worthy, O Lord, of that light 
which thou hast shed abroad into our souls, if we do not 
seek to diffuse it among mankind. Let them give thanks 
whom the Lord hath redeemed and delivered from the 
liand of the enemy — let them laud him with their whole 
lieart — let them show forth all his marvellous works — let 
them declai'e his name among their brethren — let them 
proclaim his praises in tlie great congregation. 

Man is ever inquisitive. AVe search studiously into 



THE BLlxND BEGGAR CURED. 427 

the wonders of the natural world — wo delight in contem- 
plating the elaborate inventions of art. No marvel, if, in 
a case transcending both art and nature, the utmost de- 
gree of curiosity was excited. A thirst after forbidden 
knowledge once cost us dear — but where it is good and 
lawful to be informed, a desire of information is com- 
mendable. " How were thine eyes opened ?" Our ig- 
norance can only be removed by impartial inquiry — if 
we make this inquiry from just motives, and in the spirit 
of meekness, we improve, as w^e ought, the first privilege 
of human reason. 

He who had been so ready to declare himself the sub- 
ject of the cure, is equally zealous to proclaim the author 
of it. "A man that is called Jesus made clay and anoint- 
ed mine eyes, and said to me. Go to the pool of Silomft 
and wash — and I went and washed, and I received 
sight." As yet his faith was not arrived at that pre-emi- 
nence which afterwards ranked him among the most 
illustrious professors of the truth. Hitherto he thought 
his benefactor a wonderful man, a mighty prophet — and 
soon from the principles of the doctiine of truth we be- 
hold him advancing to perfection — no longer a babe in 
righteousness, but growing in gi'ace and in the knowledge 
of our Lord and Savior, unto the measure of the stature 
of the fulness of Christ. "Why herein is a marvellous 
thing, that ye know not from whence he is, and yet he 
hath opened mine eyes. Since the world began was It 
not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was 
bom blind. If this man were not of God, he could do 
nothing." 

Had the people who made inquiry into this astonish- 
ing fact heard it with unprejudiced ears, they could not 
but have listened M'ith pious admiration, they could not 
but have declared their belief in so omnipotent an Agent 
— now, adverse to the blessed Jesus and partial to the 
Pharisees, they summon him that was once blind before 



428 hall's scripture history. 

these implacable enemies of Christ. Unjust autliority 
will not want some base and dastardly souls to soothe it 
in its tyrannous courses, though truth, and righteousness, 
and nature itself arc made victims on its unhallowed al- 
tar. " He is of age, ask him — let him speak for himself. 
These words spake his parents, because they feared 
the Jews — for the Jews had agi'eed already, that if any 
man did confess that Jesus was Christ, he should be put 
out of the synagogue." 

Our Savior had performed this euro on the Sabbath. 
Never is charity unseasonable ; never is it more season- 
able than on that holy day devoted to a God of mercy. 
Yet even this can afford subject of accusation to the bi- 
gotted and scrupulous cavillers, who misconstrued the 
very wonders which proved the divinity of our Lord and 
deemed them impeachments of his holiness. " Therefore 
did the Jews persecute Jesus, and sought to kill him, 
because he had done these things on the Sabbath day." 

We now find the man who once sat and begged, wit- 
nessing a good confession before the assembled Phari- 
sees. We find him defending the gi'acious Author of his 
cure against the cavils of malignity and injustice. We 
see him, a resolute confessor, suffering excommunication 
for the name of Christ, and maintaining the innocence, 
the honor, the divinity of his benefactor — we hear him 
teaching the doctrines of truth to them who sat in the 
chair of Moses, and convicting them of blindness who 
punished him for seeing. 

O blessed and zealous servant of thy Master, how 
valiant art thou for the faith of that God who helpetli 
them that are fallen — that God, who giveth sight to the 
blind ! From thy state of poverty and wretchedness 
thou ait exalted to be an advocate for thy Savior. Thy 
gain of bodily sight hath opened the eyes of thine under- 
standing. Thou hast lost a synagogue and hast found 
the way to heaven. Thy father and thy mother forsako 



THE SONS OF ZEBEDEE. 429 

tliee — but the Lord taketli thee up. Thou art rejected 
by hypocritical sinners — thou art received with a gra- 
cious welcome by the God of glory. 



87.— THE SONS OF ZEBEDEE. 

The time now drew nigh when the Author of our sal- 
vation should depart from the world and go unto the 
Father — he foreknew, and he had foretold, his death. 
Every moment seemed precious to those who had any 
favors to solicit either for themselves or others. Had 
the wife of Zebedee been as judicious with respect to 
the subject of her petition as she was with respect to the 
lime of urging it, she had met with no reproof at the 
hands of her Redeemer. The suit is half obtained which 
is seasonably made — it was at the departure of the An- 
gel that Jacob imjjlored a blessing — the double portion 
of Elijah's spirit was not asked for till the moment of 
his ascending. 

The misapprehension of this anxious mother must 
not be concealed — but her faith makes atonement for 
her error. While she hears Christ speak of his suffer- 
ings and death, she talks of his glory — while he points 
out his cross, she looks forward to his crown. Had she 
seen the elders of the Jews approaching our Savior with 
a submissive proffer of their allegiance — had she seen 
the usurper Herod, or the governors appointed by Ca?sar, 
tendering to Christ the sceptre of his royal ancestor, 
the wisdom of this world would have been led to enter- 
tain the thought of his sovereignty. But, when the sound 
of ignominy, suffering and death was in her ears, then to 
request distinction and pre-eminence for her children in 



430 hall's scripture history. 

the kingdom of Jesus, argues a degree of constancy no 
less deser^dng of wonder than of praise. When, in health 
and peace and prosperity, we talk of our trust in God, 
and our assurance of his favor, our professions are of 
little value — but if, in the hour of adversity and son'ow, 
we can believe, and hope, and rejoice, our piety is so 
much more noble as our difficulties are gi'eater. Bless- 
ed was that servant who, when he sat in sackcloth and 
ashes, exclaimed with rapturous fervency, " I know that 
my Redemer livetli." 

The fond parent, whose zeal thus brought her to the 
feet of Jesus, knew not the extent and nature of her own 
request. Connected by near ties of consanguinity with his 
blessed mother — herself one of his most constant and di- 
ligent attendants from the earliest period of his mission 
— happy in the various distinctions conferred on her 
sons, she profl'ers her petition to the Lord of life without 
apprehending a refusal. She urges him not on her own 
behalf. Her fervent affection for her children teaches 
her to lay aside all selfish considerations, and to think of 
nothing but their future honor and advancement. It is 
only for her beloved offsj^^'^^o ^^''^'^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ Zebedee 
is ambitious. 

Though oiu- Lord had not where to lay his head — 
though he was despised and rejected among men — 
though he could not, without a miracle, pa.y the accus- 
tomed tribute, the devout matron pervades this veil of 
obscurity, and in the person of Him who made himself 
of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a ser- 
vant, she acknowledges the Messiah the King of Glory. 

i3chold her in the lowest gesture of a suppliant, at the 
feet of her Lord. She signifies her desire that he would 
give effect to her wishes — but as yet she hesitates, and 
seems conscious of their impropriety. When our desires 
arc not con'ected by reason, we are afraid and ashamed 
to clothe them in language. The proud man sighs for 



TIIK SONS OF ZEDEOEE. 431 

temporal iionors — tlic covetous for wealth — the mali- 
cious for revenge on his enemies — the profligate for 
luxury anil j^leasure. But the prayer of faith and love 
approaches with boldness to the throne of mercy, assured 
of a favorable reception ; nor stands blushing without, as 
not daring to appear. When we know that our requests 
are holy, we cannot come with too much confidence into 
the presence of God. 

He who knew the thoughts of this mother and of her 
sons, asks, (as if he had been a stranger to their pur- 
poses,) " What wouldst thou V The suit is no longer 
delayed. Emboldened by the condescension of her Lord, 
the wife of Zebedee gives utterance to her thoughts — 
" Grant that these my two sons may sit, the one on thy 
right hand, the other on the left, in thy kingdom !" O 
Lord, be it our ambition to lead a life of holiness, and to 
aspire after everlasting felicity — but as to precedence 
in celestial dignities, we do not, we dare not solicit it. 
Let us but enter into the joy of our Lord — and for the 
rest, " deal thou with us according to thy name : for 
svv'eet is thy mercy." 

The mother makes her request — the sons have the 
answer. ** Ye know not what ye ask." In his judgment 
on human actions, God ever has respect to the first 
mover, as well as to the instrument. Christ informs his 
erring disciples, that while faith is the gi'ound of prayer, 
knowledge should accom2:)any faith — that in our ordinary 
conversation an idle v.ord is dangerous, but in our appli- 
cations to heaven, if we understand not our own peti- 
tions, it is an aggravated fault — that if we come with re- 
quests that ought not to be made, we profane that name 
which we invoke. 

To convince them of their unfitness for glory, they are 
told of their inability to suffer. " Are ye able to drink 
of the cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized witli 
the baptism that I am baptized with 'i" Blessed Lord, 



432 hall's scripture history. 

what cup was ever so full of bitterness as thine 1 The 
potion tendered thee by thine enemies, though mixed 
with vinegar and gall, what was it, when compared to 
that cup which could not pass from thee — which for our 
sake thou didst drink to the very dregs 1 And can we 
repine and murmur at our light afflictions, when we see 
thee, the Son of thy Father's love, thus acquainted with 
grief] We will endeavor, O Lord, we will endeavor, as 
far as our mortal weakness will permit, to walk in thy 
footsteps — we cannot be thine, if we partake not of thy 
cup — through much tribulation must we enter into the 
kingdom of God. In vain shall we expect to pass, by a 
sudden transition, from luxury and base indulgence to 
celestial glories. The path of vice is not that which 
leads to the throne of heaven. To follow our Savior 
through his sufferings to his rest and happiness is no easy, 
no trivial labor. If ihei/ were scarcely able to do it who 
had been so long blessed with his presence, informed by 
his doctrine, and, as it were, possessed of their heaven 
by anticipation in his society, how shall our feeble body, 
how shall our imperfect mind support the conflict 1 
Blessed Savior, what can we do, what can we suffer 
without thee 1 If thy strength be not made perfect in 
our weakness, who shall be able to share thy bitter cup, 
thy painful baptism ] Cover thou our heads in the day 
of battle — prepare us for our trials, enable us to sustain 
them — we can do all things through the aid of thine 
omnipotence. 

Even holy men of God may be in an error as to their 
own degi'ee of christian perfection. Out of an eager 
desire of honor the sons of Zebedee accept of the condi- 
tions — " We are able." Alas, how different are suffer- 
ings in speculation and in practice! How near was that 
hour in its approach, wherein all the disciples, James 
and John among their number, forsook their Master and 
fled — forsook him in the moment when he was suiround- 



THE SONS OF ZEBEDEE. 433 

ed by his implacable enemies who thirsted for his life ! 
Nothing is more dangerous than to vaunt presumptuous- 
ly of our own abilities — then are we more especially 
suffered to fall, that we may be " ashamed of this self- 
confident boasting." O God, let us ever humble our- 
selves under a due sense of our own insufficiency — let us 
ascribe all glory to thee, and take nothing to ourselves 
but our infirmities I 

O wonderful benignity of the Son of God ! He pities 
the weakness of his apostles, and neither inveighs against 
their ambition in asking, nor their presumptuous reliance 
on their own strength — he rather views their answer in 
its more favorable light, and omitting their errors, en- 
courages their good intentions — " Ye shall drink indeed 
of my cup — ye shall be baptized with my baptism^ — but 
to sit on my right hand and on my left shall be given 
to them for whom it is prepared of my Father." In 
what acts of condescension and love, O blessed Lord, 
hast thou expressed thy concession and thy denial ! 
Surely that which thou didst grant was equal in value 
to that which thou didst refuse. To be thus associated 
with thee was a dignity as great as that which the anx- 
ious mother solicited in vain. If we suffer with our Mas- 
ter we shall also reign with him. If we are faithful unto 
death, we shall obtain the crown of everlasting life. 

Therefore, seeing we have received this ministry, as 
we have received mercy, let us faint not — but let us run 
with patience the race that is set before us — looking 
unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith — who for 
the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, de- 
spising the shame : and is set down at the right handof 
the throne of God. 



Script. Hist. 19 



434 hall's scripture history. 



88.— LAZARUS. 

As the stream runs more widely the nearer it ap- 
■proaches to the ocean into which it flows, so Joth tlie 
Savior of mankind -work more powerfully as he draws 
nearer to his glory. The restoration of Lazarus from 
death was one of his last and of his greatest mira- 
cles — when he was himself about to die, he recalled his 
faithful servant from the tomb. Blessed Lord, none but 
an infinite power could so far go beyond nature as to 
revive one who had been four days dead — none but He 
who created man, could thus make him anew. The 
earth, from which thou didst raise his body — the invisi- 
ble world, from which tliou didst summon back his spirit, 
are equally under the control of thine omnipotence. 

Sickness is the common prelude to death. No human 
being is exempt from this condition of our nature — nei- 
ther youth, nor wisdom, nor holiness can avert the 
awful visitation. Lazarus, ichojji Jesus loved, is on the 
bed of languishing. 

The anxiety of a fond sister is eager to have recourse 
to the assistance of her Savior in behalf of one so dear 
to them both. If his arm was ever ready to be stretched 
out to the relief of strangers, if his gracious voice brought 
comfort to the house of mourning when no especial 
cause moved him to show mercy — how surely might the 
power of that voice, that arm, be relied on in behalf of 
Lazarus ! Doubtless Martha and Mary imagined that 
they had secured the recovery of their brother, when 
they sent unto Jesus saying, " Lord, behold he whom 
thou lovest is sick !" 

Not a pang that was felt, not a groan that was uttered 
by Lazarus was unknown to our blessed Savior — yet 
tliis Lord of life suffers the friend so dear to him to 
sicken, and even to die, without approaching or seeming 



LAZARUS. 435 

to interpose in his behalf. Not that there was either hia- 
bility, or disinchnation to help — " this sickness," howev- 
er outward appearances indicate the contrary, " is not 
unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God 
might be glorified thereby." O Savior, tliou didst usually 
call thyself by the humble appellation of " the Son of 
man," veiling thy Godhead under the garb of our mortal 
infirmity — but sometimes thou wouldst show the radiance 
of thy light, beaming through the clouds which surround- 
ed thee. Thou wert near to thy passion. It was season- 
able for Thee at this time to assert thy just title. Nei- 
ther was this an act which thine human nature could 
challenge as its own, but one far transcending all finite 
powers. To die, was appointed to the Son of man — to 
raise from death and corruption, was the prerogative of 
the Son of God. 

But wherefore, O Lord, wouldst thou be so long ab- 
sent from thine afflicted servants'? Wheiefore, but to* 
exalt the glory of thy miracle, to foreshadow thine own 
resurrection, to strengthen the faith of thy disciples i! 
Hadst thou prevented the death of Lazarus, his recovery 
might have been deduced from natural causes — hadst. 
thou arrived speedily after his decease, it might have) 
been imagined that no positive separation had taken 
place between his soul and body — now, this period of 
time which elapsed makes his dissolution certain, and 
thy demonstration of almighty power decisive. 

Our Savior, when he judged it seasonable, at length 
addressed his disciples — *' Let us go into Judea again." 
He had retired from the tyranny of his persecutors, and 
from their murderous attempts to take away his life, be- 
cause his hour was not fully come. Now, his love for 
-Lazarus, and the care of his divine glory bring him thith- 
er once more, prepared for the utmost extremity of suf- 
fering. He calls his servants to shai'e with him in those 
grievous trials. They cannot be his true discijjles if 



436 HALI.'d SCRirXUKE IlIisTOUY, 

they will not take up the cross of their Lord. We nui3t 
be cai'eless of all danger when he summons us to the 
conflict. Whithersoever he bids us follow him, though 
snares and sorrows, and death are in the path, we must 
commend our spirits to his protection, and cheei-fully 
obey his commandment — " Let us also go, that we may 
die with him." 

Our Lord had formerly assured his disciples that the 
sickness of Lazarus was not fatal — he now will not at 
once acquaint them with the death of their companion, 
nor wdll he altogether conceal it. Shadowing it out un- 
der a figurative expression, he said to them, *' Our friend 
Lazarus sleepeth ; but I go to awaken him out of his 
sleep.*' O meek and merciful Savior, thou who thought- 
est it no robbery to be equal with God didst not disdain 
to give the endearing title of friends to the cliiklren of 
men — " Henceforth I call you not servants — you arc my 
friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you." O happy 
and honorable distinction, far exceeding all human de- 
sert, worthy of the most animated exertions of the chris- 
tian to obtain and preserve ! If God be for us, who can 
be against us ] If he be our friend, \\hat shall we fear, 
though evil men and evil spirits are enemies ] 

And dost thou, O Savior, describe the separation of 
soul and body under the gentle tranquil image of sleep ] 
Thou, who art the great Lord of life and death, canst 
not be unacquainted with the nature of both. It is enough 
that thou hast said it — let not our fears or our infidelity 
mislead us — while thy wisdom hath impkmted in thy 
creatures a natural and necessary love of life, thy mercy 
hath disarmed death of its most excruciating torment — 
thou hast made it an entrance into the joys of immorta- 
lity — thou hast converted a merciless enemy into a salu- 
tary faithful friend. Who shall fear to take his rest by 
night, after the wearisome toils of the day ] What can bo 
80 refreshing to the cxliausted traveller as the comfort of 



LAZARUS. 437 

repose ?- Let us but be prepared by faith and repent- 
ance, and if he come "at even, or at midnight, or at 
the cock-crowing, or in the morning," we shall be ready 
to meet the bridegroom. We will lay us down in peace, 
and sleep — for it is thou, Lord, only, that makest us to 
rest in safety. 

Lord, from this sleep ihy voice will awaken us, as it 
did thy Lazarus — " In our flesh shall we see God." The 
word which created can revive, can restore U6 — can 
command the soul to return to that body it once in- 
habited — can command the body to arise, incorruptible, 
immortal, and to re-unite itself to the soul. It is our 
comfort and security against the terrors of death, and 
the power of the gi'avc, that our re?urrection depends 
on the omnipotence and immutability of God. 

Unwilling to return to Judea, the scene of past trou- 
bles and persecutions, the disciples are forward to em- 
brace the words of their i^Iaster in a literal sense — 
Lord, if he sleep, he shall do tcell — If thou hast no other 
design in this perilous journey than the restoration of 
thy beloved Lazarus from his sickness, nature is already 
anticipating thy purpose. His sleep is an indication of 
speedy recovery — extremity of pain no longer deprives 
him of his rest — a grateful respite is given to his sufler- 
ings." Had our Savior only spoken of natural sleep, 
their ai-gument had been plausible, though even then not 
absolutely conclusive — now, their misconstruction of the 
words of their master led them astray, so that " this say- 
ing w^as hidden from them, neither understood they the 
things which were spoken." Nothing can be more dan- 
gerous than to confine ourselves entirely to the letter, 
when we take into our hand the oracles of God — one er- 
ror may draw on more ; and though the first be never so 
slight, the last may be pregnant with the most fatal mis- 
chiefs to our souls. 

Soon does our blessed Lord explain his meaning — 



438 hall's scripture history. 

" Lazarus is dead : and I am glad for your sakes that I 
was not there — nevertheless, let us go to him." Thus 
didst thou, O Savior, testify thine omniscience to thy dis- 
ciples, that from thence they might form a just conclu- 
sion of thine almighty power. Thou didst not exj^ressly 
declare that thou wort both able and willing to recall 
him from his grave — but if (while absent and at a dis- 
tance) thou couldst speak with certainty of his dissolu- 
tion, they could not but form the just inference, ** We 
serve a Master who knows all things — and l^lc who 
knows all things, can do all things." 

The absence of our Savior from the death-bed of Laz- 
aiiis was not accidental, but voluntary. To the pious 
sisters of the departed christian it afforded nothing but 
present anguish — but the advantage which their faith 
would gain by so divine a miracle as followed, was more 
than able to counterbalance this momentary distress. 
The cause of their grief therefore is to our blessed Lord 
a subject of joy. When a father beholds his son fighting 
for his country, he sees danger and death on one side, 
renown and victory on the other — he grieves at the peril, 
but he rejoices in the honor. Thus doth the Almighty 
in all our sorrows — he hears our groans, he notes our 
tears, and pities us — but he looks upon our patience, 
our faith, our hope, our crown, and is glad that we are 
afflicted. 

" Lazarus is dead — nevertheless, let us go to him," 
What should separate, if death cannot ] Friendship it- 
self can but dismiss the lifeless remains to their tomb, 
attending them thither with pious soitow, and commit- 
tino^ them to their silent dust. But here is an unshaken 
Friend, whom the gi'ave itself cannot sever from us — O 
love, stronger than death, love triumphant over corrup- 
tion! Lord, even these our earthly tabernacles shall 
hereafter be members of that mystical body whereof 
thou art the Head. We " know that our Redeemer 



LAZARUS. 439 

livctli, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the 
earth ; and though after our skin, worms destroy this 
body,-. yet in our flesh shall we see God." 

O Savior, death cannot hinder our approach to thee, 
or thy return to us. The hour cometh, when all that are 
in the gi'aves shall hear thy voice, and shall go forth to 
meet thee. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust — for 
thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast 
out her dead. The ransomed of the Lord shall return, 
and come to Sion with songs, and everlasting joy shall be 
on their heads — they shall obtain gladness and joy — and 
sorrow and mourning shall flee away. 



89.--L A Z A R U S .—continued. 

The news of Christ's approach seems to have awaken- 
ed some degi'ee of comfort in the sisters of Lazarus. 
Had he been present at an earlier period, the enemy 
would sooner have been vanquished. Death would have 
retired from so unequal a contest, and fled before the 
Lord of Life. The words of Martha, when she came forth 
to meet her Savior, are not the words of one who sor- 
rowed without hope — "■ Lord, if thou hadst been here 
my brother had not died — but I know that even now, 
whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." 
Joy was wont to possess her soul at the aiTival of so 
blessed a guest — she now receives him as one whose 
grief was sanctified by faith and piety. She as well as 
her sister had in time past sat at the feet of Jesus and 
heard his word — she knew that her brother would rise 
again in the resun-ection at the last day. And when He 
whom God sent spake the words of God, " I am the 



440 hall's scripture history. 

Resurrection and the Life — he that believeth in Me, 
though he were dead, yet shall he live," she replied with 
rapturous fervency, "Yea, Lord — I believe that thou art 
the Christ, the Son of God, who should come into the 
world." In language worthy of the Holy Ghost which 
inspired it, (see 1 Corinthians, 12 : 3,) she bears testimo- 
ny to the power and Godhead of the Messiah, and to 
the certainty of a future resurrection. This conference 
hath revived her drooping spirit — the consolations of 
God have raised her heart to the expectation of some 
wonderful event. Now therefore she hastens back to her 
Bister, and endeavors to communicate to her a portion of 
her hope. She finds her, not alone, but surrounded by 
many sympathizing friends, who came from Jerusalem 
to join their tears with hers, and lament the death of 
Lazarus. Thus circumstanced, Martha dares not give 
utterance to the various feelings which agitate her soul. 
She will not make an open proclamation of the arrival 
of Jesus. The hostile edict of the Jews, (John, 11 : 57,) 
aimed at his liberty, if not his life, was doubtless the sub- 
ject of public rumor. However well affected these 2)er- 
8ons might be to herself and her sister, either fear or 
prejudice might have rendered them unfit to be made 
acquainted with the presence of Christ. She speaks 
therefore secretly to Mary, " The Master is come, and 
•calleth for thee." 

That word sus2)ends all her sorrows. She forgets all 
other considerations. She suddenly dej^arts from her as- 
sembled friends and hastens to the Redeemer of man- 
kind. She departs — but not unattended. The zealous 
assiduity of those who shjii-ed her woes would not sufter 
them to remain inactive when they saw her rush for- 
ward, with eager haste, they knew not whither. Perhaps 
they dreaded some frantic paroxysm of grief — at least 
they were of opinion that she sought the dangerous 
indulgence of giving vent to her passionate lamentations 



LAZARUS. 441 

at the grave of her much-loved brother. If every eur- 
rouiicling object, while she remained in the house of 
mourning, brought with it a repetition of sorrow — if the 
scenes of their once haj^py society awakened every pain- 
ful sensation, and caused fresh tears to flow — how would 
she be affected with insupportable anguish, were she 
rashly to intrude on the solemn mansions of the dead ! 

The friends of Mary mistook her errand. While they 
supposed that she was going to a dead brother, she re- 
paired to a living Savior. The world, whether from 
iealousy or kindness, is too apt to misconstrue both the 
actions and the situation of the servants of God. They 
think them sorrowful, when in fact they are rejoicing — 
dying, when behold they live — having nothing, while 
they are possessing all things. 

In the true gesture of a suppliant, Mary falls dovni at 
the feet of Jesus. Though in the presence of so many 
witnesses, some of whom were prejudiced beyond the 
reach of conviction (John, 11 : 46,) — though well aware 
that the homage she paid was forbidden by the tyranny 
of superstition — though no less than excommunication 
was denounced against all them who confessed him to 
Ve the Messiah — she prostrates herself and worships : 
while those bended knees and uplifted hands speak no 
less plainly than the accents of her sister, " Thou art the 
Christ, the Son of God!" 

The passionate grief of Mary, the weeping of her 
surrounding fnends, and above all, the cause of their sor- 
row, awaken our blessed Savior to the tenderest pity — 
" He groaned in his spirit, and was troubled." He 
would no longer delay that manifestation of his power 
which should turn this heaviness into joy. But ere he 
can arrive at the place where those dear remains are de- 
posited, his own example consecrates those tears, which 
are every way compatible with the most duteous resig- 
nation. Infidelity hardens the heart, and bide us, with 
19* 



442 hall's scripture history. 

flry eyes and sullen apathy, submit to the evils of a rig- 
orous destiny. The doctrine of Christ leaves us in full 
possession of those sensibilities which are an honor, not 
a disgrace to human nature. " Jesus wept." 

The sepulchre of Lazarus was a cave, on the top of 
which a massy stone had been placed as a covering. He, 
who by the efficacy of his voice was about to raise the 
dead, will remove this obstacle by the ministry of other 
hands. Surrounded by busy and malignant enemies, he 
will so work as to give them no oj^portunity of cavilling, 
or charging him with collusion. The command to re- 
move the stone is seconded by an act of omipotent pow- 
er — and the miraculous proof of his Godhead is so much 
the more wondered at as it was least expected. 

We are all buried, O Savior, in the grave of our sins. 
The stone of obduracy must be taken away from our 
hearts before we shall attend to thy reviving voice — 
then shall it be heard, even in the region of coiTuption, 
and we shall not be exhorted in vain, "Awake, thou that 
eleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give 
thee hght." 

^ The faith which had for a while led the sister of Laza- 
rus even against hope to believe in hope, now seems to 
have withdrawn itself from her soul. Both her zealous 
professions and the gracious words of her Master are 
vanished and forgotten. Unwilling to disturb the sacred 
repose of death, she urges that the body of Lazarus, who 
had been dead four days, would be noisome and pestilen- 
tial. Alas, how does the weakness of our mortal nature 
throw obstacles in the way of heavenly mercy, and op- 
pose even that power which alone can rescue us. "Said 
I not unto thee, that if thou wouldst believe thou shouldst 
see the glory of God]" 

They who were preparing to remove the stone, for a 
time refrained from their labor — one while fixing their 
eyes on Christ, one while on the sister of Lazarus, to 



LAZARUS. 443 

hear what would be the event of so important an objec- 
tion. But soon are they given to understand, both by the 
words of our Savior and the duteous acquiescence of his 
handmaid, that in spite of apparent difficulties and discou- 
ragements, the word of God must be obeyed. The stone is 
removed, and now they behold him dead whom they shall 
soon see revived. Eveiy impediment is done away — all 
are in silent expectation — our Savior begins his miracle. 

His eyes are raised to heaven — thence he derives his 
power — thence he expects and is assured of success. 
His tongue addresses the Almighty by the name of Fa- 
ther — that claim which his enemies judged to be blas- 
phemy worthy of death, is made publicly, before a cloud 
of witnesses — Christ, as the Son of God, gives thanks to 
him that sitteth on the throne for having granted his 
heart's desire and fulfilled all his mind. Psalm 20 : 4. 
Then, lifting up his voice with divine authority, he cries 
aloud, ''Lazarus, come forth!" O glorious representa- 
tion of that majestic sound wherewith the last trumpet 
shall address all that sleep, and shall awaken them from 
the dust ! It is thy voice, O Savior, which we shall hear 
sounding in the recesses of the tomb — that voice which 
ehall pierce the rocks, and divide the mountains, and 
summon the dead from the lowest deeps — that voice 
whereby a world was made, and whereby it shall be 
dissolved — that voice which called time into being, and 
which, when time is no more, shall declare the approach 
of eternity. 

Lo ! the almighty Word hath loosed those bands 
whereby the beloved Lazarus was holden — the linen 
folds which, according to the custom of the Jews, were 
wrapped around his body, (together with aromatic spi- 
ces,) are yet left on him, that the astonished beholders 
might see the signs of death with the proofs of life, and 
that they might be convinced, by iiTefragable evidence, 
both of the separation of his soul and body, and of their 



444 hall's scripture iiistorv. 

re-union. If the voice of Christ wa8 thus powerful 
while he remained in his state of humility, how powerful 
shall it be in that awful day when he shall return, with 
majesty and glory, to judge the quick and the dead ! It 
shall then shake the canopy of heaven, and move the 
foundations of the earth. Once it shook the earth — but 
now lie hath promised, saying, " Yet once more I shake 
not the earth only, but also heaven." 

With what salutations, what joyful embraces did the 
happy sisters of Lazarus receive him from his grave ! 
What amazement was in their looks — what ecstasy in 
their hearts ! what adoration of that God and Savior who 
recalled him to life ! The surrounding neighbors and 
friends behold the mighty act, but with vai-ious impres- 
sions of mind. Some of them believed and confessed that 
Jesus was the Christ — others went their way to the 
Pharisees, and by means of his veiy miracles inflamed 
the rancor of his enemies. Lord, when thy hand was 
lifted up, they would not see — the veil of prejudice and 
obduracy was on their hearts — they received not the love 
of the truth, that they might be saved. In vain had 
Moses said unto the fathers, "A Prophet shall the Lord 
your God raise up unto you — every soul that will not 
hear that Prophet shall be destroyed from among the 
people." In vain had all the prophets from Samuel, and 
those that followed after, foretold the promised Messiah. 
They heard not Moses and the prophets — neither were 
they persuaded, though one rose from the dead. 



Christ's entry into Jerusalem. 445 



90.— CHRIST'S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. 

Never did our Savior take so much state upon him as 
now, when he was going towards his passion. Other 
journeys he undertook without pomp or dignity — this 
with numerous attendants and loud acclamation. Yet 
even here, O Lord, thou didst blend thine accustomed 
humility with thy triumphs — Thou, whose chariots are 
twenty thousand, even thousands of angels, (that the 
Scripture might be fulfilled,) wouldst, even in this thy 
royal progress, demonstrate thy contempt of worldly 
magnificence — " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion — 
shout, O daughter of Jerusalem — ^behold, thy King com- 
eth to thee — ^he is just, and having salvation — lowly, 
and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an 
ass." O blessed Lord, thou who wert indeed the King 
of Israel, wouldst be proclaimed so — but in the very mo- 
ment of thy asserting thy just pretensions, thou wouldst 
make it appear that thy kingdom was not of this world 
— that the glories on which the affections of mankind 
are wont to dwell so fondly, were held by thee in their 
due estimation. The multitude alone are thine attend- 
ants — their homely garments, their green boughs are 
spread in the way before thee — they exclaim with shouts 
of joy, " Hosanna to the Son of David — blessed is Ho 
that Cometh in the name of the Lord !" 

Where are now the Scribes and Pharisees ] Where 
are the great rulers of the synagogue, who had declared 
that whosoever confessed that Jesus was the Christ 
should be punished with instant excommunication. Be- 
hold here the bold and undaunted followers of the Mes- 
siah, who bare witness to him in the presence of all 
their brethren, at the gate of the royal city. In vain shall 
the adversaries of Christ attempt to suppress his glory. 
Sooner shall they veil the face of the sun from shining 



446 hall's scripture history. 

on the workl, llian withhold the beams of his divine truth, 
by their envious ojoposition, from the eyes and hearts of 
liis people. In S2:)itc of all Jewish malignity, his kingdom 
is confessed, is applauded, is blessed. 

O thou that art fairer than the children of men, in thy 
majesty ride prosperously, because of truth, and meek- 
ness and righteousness. Full of grace are thy lips, be- 
cause God hath blessed thee for ever ! 

Thus proclaimed, thus accompanied, our Savior enters 
into the city of Jerusalem — Jerusalem, noted of old as 
the residence of kings, of priests, of prophets. Of kings, 
for there was the throne of David — of priests, for there 
was the temple — of prophets, for there they delivered 
their oracles, and their blood was shed. Thither would 
Jesus come in his three-fold character as King, as Priest, 
as Prophet. Acknowledged with hosannas as a King — 
teaching the people, and foretelling the desti'uction of 
their city, as a Prophet — and, as a Priest, taking posses- 
sion of his temple, and vindicating it fi.T)m the foul profa- 
nations of Jewish sacrilege. Often had he repaired to .Je- 
rusalem without alarming his enemies, because without 
any semblance of state — now, when he gives some little 
glimpse of his royalty, '' all the city is moved." When the 
eastern sages brought the first notice of the King of th-e 
Jews, Herod was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him — 
the Kin"- of the Jews himself approaches, and lo, a new 
commotion ! One spectator dra^vs on another — the noise 
iiicreases with the concourse — all is fear, and anxiety, 
and expectation. " Who is this V 

Was it a question of applause, or of contempt, or of 
ignorance 1 Doubtless the multitude inquired seriously, 
from a desire of information. Not that they were unac- 
quainted with the person of Christ, whose doctrine and 
miracles had justly rendered him well known amidst his 
countrymen — but they beheld him invested as it were 
with some new and mysterious character— laying claim 



CHRIST S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. 447 

to distinctions from which he had hitherto retired — en- 
couraging and applauding the zealous acclamations of his 
adherents. 

The attendant disciples could not be at a loss for an an- 
swer. Which of the prophets had not put itin their mouths? 
" Who IS this? Ask Moses, and he shall tell you — The 
Seed of the woman thai shall break the serpent's head. Ask 
our father Jacob, and he shall tell you — The ShUohof the 
tribe of Judah. Ask David, and he shall tell you — The 
King of glory. Ask Isaiah, and he shall tell you — Emanu- 
el — Wonderful — Comisellor — The Mighty God — The Ev- 
erlasting Father — The Prince of Peace. Ask Jeremiah, 
and he shall tell you — The Branch of David — The Lord 
our Righteousness. Ask Daniel, and he shall tell you — 
The Messiah. Ask Hosea, and he shall tell you — The 
Lord God of Hosts — the Lord is his memorial. Ask John 
the Baptist, and he shall tell you — The Lamb of God. 
Ask the God of the prophets. He hath told you, This is 
my beloved Son, i?i ivhom I am tcell pleased. Ask even the 
powers of darkness themselves — they have been compell- 
ed to exclaim, / kriow thee 2cho thou art, the Holy One of 
God:' Gen. 3 : 15 ; 49 : 10 ; Ps. 24 : 7, 10 ; Isa. 7:14; 
9:6; Jer. 23 : 5, 6 ; Dan. 9 : 25, 26 ; Hos. 12 : 5 ; John, 
1 : 36 ; Mat. 3 : 17 ; Luke, 4 : 34. 

Among the attending multitudes some are found v,'hose 
voice, preventing that of the disciples, makes answer — 
" This is Jesus, the prophet of Nazareth in Galilee." 

Ye undervalue your Master, O ye sincere but mista- 
ken followers of Christ — the herald who proclaimed his 
approach was himself more than a prophet. This is no 
other than that God by whom the prophets were both 
Rent and inspired. Not Nazareth, but Bethlehem was the 
place of his birth, the proof of his tribe, the evidence that 
he was the expected Messiah. He whom ye thus confess- 
ed no doubt pardoned the defects of your confession. Ye 
soake according to the common rumor which was diffus- 



448 hall's scripture history. 

ed among llic people. The two disciples on their way 
to Emmaus gave him no other title. Their faith had not 
yet received its completion — the Holy Spirit of God 
had not yet descended from heaven to teach them all 
things. Even this testimony, imperfect as it was, found 
favor with the Father of mercies. If we make profession 
of the truth, according to the best of our knowledge, 
though in many things we all offend, the goodness of God 
endureth continually — not judging us for what we havo 
not, but accepting us in what we have. Shouldst thou, 
O Lord, be extreme to re<]uire from us perfection of 
knowledge, O Lord, who could abide it ? What would 
be the condition of those souls whose errors, not pro- 
ceeding from malice, but ignorance, meet with pity and 
forgiveness at thy throne ? Blessed Savior, how can we 
sufficiently adore thine infinite mercy, that, where thou 
findest a diligent inquiry after the truth joined with an ho- 
nest simplicity of heait, thou regardest not our unwilling 
defects, thou dcspisest not our well-meant confessions ! 

Already had the people proclaimed Christ as a King — 
now, they declare him to be a Prophet. Why did not 
the Roman legions betake themselves to arms on the 
former declaration ? Why did not the scribes and Phari- 
sees, and the envious priesthood, revolt against the lat- 
ter 1 They had made decrees against him — they had laid 
wait for him — they had repeatedly attempted to take 
away his life — yet now, behold, he passes along through 
the streets of Jerusalem hailed as the King and Prophet of 
his people, witliout a shadow of opposition from his ene- 
mies. To what can this be imputed but to the powerful 
and over-ruling arm of his Godhead ? He who restrain- 
ed the rage and malice of Herod on the first news that a 
King was born, now restrains all the rulers of Jerusalem 
from lifting up their hand against this last and public ac- 
knowledgment of the regal and prophetical office of 
Christ. Till the Divine suflerer himself consents to pour 



nRIST*S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. 449 

out his soul unto death, in vain do his adverBaries take 
counsel together to destroy the Lord's anointed. 

In this manner, O Savior, dost thou pass through the 
streets of Jerusalem to the temple — not to the royal 
palace, not to the ** chief places of concourse," but to the 
temple. When a j^ious and dutiful son returns from a 
far country, whither does he first betake himself but to 
his father's house 1 There thy presence, O Lord, v/as 
most necessary — there the fountain of truth, corrupted 
and poisoned by deep and dangerous abuses, sent forth 
polluted streams into the once holy city. Surely all good 
or evil is increased and strengthened in proportion as it 
is connected with the temple. If God have there faithful 
servants — if men find there wholesome instruction and 
holy examples, the people will not be without benefit. 
The precious oil which was poured on the head of 
Aaron, descended to the skirts of his garments. 

No sooner is Chiist aiiived at the house of God than 
ho begins the work of Reformation. That holy ground 
was profaned by sacrilegious traffic — a public mart was 
held within the court of that sacred place. The great 
Lord of the temple comes to vindicate its insulted honor 
— and, full of just indignation, drives out these impious 
offenders — casts dow^n their tables — scatters their guilty 
heaps — and sends away their adherents with shame and 
confusion. 

With what astonishment of mind did these Jews be- 
hold their heavenly Reprover ! How did their con- 
science smite them more than his scourge, while that 
meek and gentle Savior, who came to take our stripes 
upon liim, darted forth sacred vengeance from his eyes, 
and with his uplifted arm chastised their profanations ! 
Surely it became thee, O Redeemer of men, to let the 
world perceive that thou hadst not lost thy justice in thy 
mercy — that while thy compassion is infinite, thy severity 
is awful — that thou couldst thunder as well as shine. 



450 hall's scripture history. 

There is a reverence due to the house of God, and to 
the service to which it is dedicated. Actions of a se- 
cular nature are not fit for that sacred roof, much less 
those which are unhallov/ed and profane, " Ye shall 
reverence my sanctuary — I am the Lord." The cove- 
tousness of the priests, the frauds of the money-changers, 
were an intolerable abuse of the temple. What but 
holiness can become that place, which is itself the 
Beauty of Holiness ] 

" Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall pre- 
pare the way before me — and the Lord whom ye seek 
shall suddenly come to his temple — even the messenger 
of the covenant, whom ye delight in : behold, he shall 
come, saith the Lord of Hosts. But who may abide the 
day of his coming 1 and who shall stand when he appear- 
etli I for he is like a refiner's fire, and like fuller's soap. 
And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver — and 
he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold 
and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering 
in righteousness. Then shall the offering of Judah and 
Jerusalem be pleasant unto the Lord, as in the days of 
old, and as in former years. And I will come near you 
to judgment, and I will be a swift witness against the 
sorcerers, and against the adulterers, and against false 
swearers, and against those that oppress the hireling in 
his wages, the widow, and the fatherless, and that turn 
aside the stranger from his right, and fear not me, saith 
the Lord of Hosts." 



CHRIST BETRAYED. 451 



91.— CHRIST BETRAYED. 

So obnoxious were Christ who raised Lazarus, and 
Lazarus whom Christ raised, to the envious priests, and 
scribes, and elders, that they consult to murder both. 
While either of them lives, the glory of that miracle can- 
not die, nor the shame of its opponents. Assembled in 
the palace of Caiaphas, they join with one consent, 
and are confederate against the Son of God. Eager as 
they are for the destruction of the innocent, their pru- 
dence suggests to them that open violence will be fruit- 
less. Subtilty and treachery must do that which would 
be vainly attempted by power, 

A fit instrument is speedily pitched upon for this ac- 
cursed purpose. Among the chosen followers of Christ 
one is found who was in his heart the servant, not of 
God, but of Mammon. Of what arts is not that soul ca- 
pable which is enslaved by the hateful power of avarice 1 
Judas, who heard Christ daily, whom others heard preach 
Christ daily, who witnessed the miracles of his Master, 
and doubtless shared those miraculous gifts bestowed on 
his companions, is first a thief, and afterwards a traitor. 
" What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto you ]" 

O wretched Judas, what will they, what can they give 
of equal value with Him whom thou offerest as a victim 
to their malice ? Were they able to pay, or thou to re- 
ceive, all the precious treasures of the world, how were 
this price equivalent to that Word of God by whom 
all things were made 1 Could they have bestowed on 
thee the empire of the universe, or given thee suj^rema- 
cy over the bright luminaries of heaven, thy folly would 
still have kept pace with thy presumption. Alas, what 
had they, miserable men, to offer for such a purchase 1 
The time was, when he who instigated thee to this trea- 
$on could say to thy Master, "All the kingdoms of tho 



452 hall's scripture hlstory. 

world, and the glory of them arc mine — all these will I give 
thee." Had he attempted to shake thy fidelity by a simi- 
lar proposal the base worldling might have found some ex- 
cuse for thine apostacy — but when we behold thee giving 
up thy blessed Lord and vSavior to his enemies for thirty 
pieces of silver, we know not whether more to abhor thy 
treachery or to wonder at thine infatuation. 

The price was not more despicable than the undertak- 
ing was audacious. Had all the powers of hell combin- 
ed with their emissary, they could not have delivered our 
Savior into the hands of men. '* No man taketh my life 
from me," saith Christ, " but I lay it down of myself." 
Had he been pleased to resist, his word would at once 
have consigned the traitor and his accomplices to their 
just punishment. O blessed Lord, all our safety, all our 
happiness depends not so much upon thine act^ as upon 
thy will. In vain might we expect benefit from thy pas- 
sion, if thou hadst undergone that by constraint which 
thou didst voluntarily sustain for our salvation. 

The compact is made — the price is given — Judas re- 
turns and with unblushing effrontery looks on his Mas- 
ter and on his companions. His heart told him he was 
false — but he was in possession of the price of blood ! He 
wa3 not now^ for the first time a hypocrite. The pass- 
over is at hand — Judas is no less diligent to make pre- 
paration for it, no less ready to receive it, than the most 
faithful and zealous of the apostles. 

How many proofs had this traitor received of his Mas- 
ter's omniscience ! Every day afforded fresh demonstra- 
tion that \\w thoughts and intents of the heart were un- 
der the cognizance of Christ — nay, while Juda^ attempts 
to conceal his baseness, our Savior conceals not his own 
knowledge of it. " Verily I say unto you, that one of you 
ehall betray me." Who would not think that wickedness, 
BO discovered, would be full of shame 1 Did not Judas 
blush, and grow pale again, and cast down his guilty 



CURI3T BETRAYED. 453 

eyes, and turn away his troubled countenance 1 Alas, that 
brow is steeled against every generous feeling ; that 
heart knows neither pity nor repentance. Could the dis- 
ciples have observed on any countenance among their fel- 
lows the least token of confusion, the words of their Mas- 
ter would have affected them with less poignant sorrow — 
now, rather thinking fit to distrust their own innocence 
than their Master's assertion, each trembles while he in- 
quires, *' Lord, is it I ]" It is possible there may lurk 
some secret wickedness in the soul, unsuspected by our- 
selves. Whither may we not be suffered to fall, if we 
trust too presumptuously to our own strength 1 It is both 
wisdom and duty to be ever on our guard, and to examine 
our hearts with the most scrupulous accuracy. liappy is 
the man who so feareth alway. " Lord, is it IV 

Meanwhile, how hath Judas deceived his companions ! 
Had his former life been stamped with notorious wick- 
edness they would have found an object on which to rest 
their just suspicions. Now, his past villany has been so 
studiously concealed that every one of the apostles is 
as ready to suspect himself as him who was really guilty. 
Well might the God of all knowledge exclaim, *' The 
heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wick- 
ed!" Judas can hear the denunciations of judgment 
against himself — he can hear his Master say, '* Wo be 
to that man by w hom the Son of Man is betrayed — good 
were it for that man if he had never been bom," and yet 
he is no more appalled than very innocence. He has 
made a covenant with death, and with hell an agreement, 
O Judas, didst thou ever hear ought but truth from tlie 
lips of thy divine reprover 1 canst thou distrust the cer- 
tainty of that dreadful menace of vengeance 1 how wert 
thou not afraid, after such an intimation, to persist in 
thine atrocious purpose 1 

As if that shameless offender would brave all accusa- 
tion, and stifle all remorse, he too dares ask, " Master, is 



4o-i hall's SCRIPTUIIE HISTORY. 

it I V No disciple shall protest more loudly against this 
crime than he who fosters it in his own Losom. His Lord 
knows him to he a traitor — he shall not live to complain 
— his brethren account him virtuous — all is well, while 
he is well esteemed. Reputation is all the care of false 
hearts — not truth, not honor, not conscience : T^'hile they 
appear innocent to men, they care not how criminal they 
are in the sight of God. 

Had our Savior been less perfect in knowledge, a 
Tjuestion of this nature would have led him to doubt the 
reality of his apostle's guilt. Who could imagine that a 
self-convicted sinner would thus meet a just accusation ] 
But He, whose all-piercing eyes behold things as they 
are, not as they seem to be, can answer this bold inquiry 
with a direct affirmation — " Thou hast said." Wretched 
Iscariot, couldst thou think that thou wert able to endure 
the beams of that Sun which pervades the recesses of 
thine heart ] Was it no-t sufficient for thee to be secretly 
vicious, unless thou contendest with an omniscient ac- 
cuser ? Thou didst imagine thy crime unknown — to men 
it was so. Had thy Master been no more than man, it 
had been unknown to him — now his knowledjre arcfues 
him divine. How canst thou yet resolve to lift up thine 
hand against Him who knows thine offence, and can ei- 
ther prevent or avenge it ? 

The words spoken by Christ to his treacherous a^^ostle 
were unheard by the guests around them — but the guilt 
o-f Judas shall soon be whispered to one and kno"\m by 
all. Humble and penitent sinners have a claim on us for 
pity and concealment. Shame is meet for those who are 
destitute of shame. 

The zealous and impatient Peter cannot rest under 
the anguish of so doubtful a crimination. His breast is 
tortured with suspense till he know tlie man. His signs 
ask what his voice dares not. The beloved disciple un- 
derstands this silent language and dares give words to 



CHRIST BETRAYED. 455 

Peter's tliouglits. The indefinite assertion of treason 
among the apostles affords sufficient ground for this in- 
quiry — " Lord, who is it ?" 

That which was timorously demanded, is answered 
graciously — '* He it is to whom I shall give a sop when 
1 have dipped it." Our Savior was unv/illing to name 
the criminal — but he will point him out by a sign to 
his anxious querist. He says not, "Mark that man on 
whom I shall fi'own — mark him on whom I shall inflict 
some public censure " — he rather bestows on the guilty 
parricide a token of more than ordinary respect and 
affection. The outward gifts of God are not alv/ays 
proofs of his love — riches, pleasures, honors may be 
either withholden from us in mercy, or dispensed in just 
indignation. How groundless had been the jealousy of 
that disciple who envying the favor done to Judas, had 
deemed himself treated with undue neglect ! So vain 
are they who measuring God's affection by temporal 
benefits, are ready to applaud successful wickedness, and 
grudge them their short-lived happiness who are incapa- 
ble of any better. 

Favors ill-used make the heart capable of any evil. 
Judas, comparing his Master's action with the gestures 
of Peter, and the recent conference (unheard by him- 
self) between Jesus and the son of Zebedee, is now 
more irritated to perform what he had wickedly pro- 
mised. But, O Lord, how shall we find words in which 
to express our sense of thy meekness, thy divine long- 
suffering 1 No angiy words escape thy lips even when 
addressing the most cruel of thine enemies — " That thou 
doest, do quickly." Why are we inflamed by our petty 
wrongs ] why do we swell with anger and fly to re- 
venge on every occasion, when the gi'eat Examjjle of 
all patience will not revile even the foul and bloody 
traitor 1 The disciples yet remain in ignorance — they 
know not for what intent our Lord hastens the depar- 



4oG lIALl/s SCRIPTUKE HISTORV. 

turc of his abandoned conspirator. The deed was every 
way villanous : but if it must be done, delay is only an 
aggravation of misery. The innocent victim, already 
doomed to die, speaks as one prepared for suffering, and 
meekly resigns himself to all the malice of his enemies. 
That obdurate heart will not relent. The traitor 
knows his way to the palace of the High Priest, and 
points out the time, the place, the manner in which ho 
will give effect to his perfidy. ** Whomsoever I shall 
kiss, that same is he." Yet more hypocrisy 1 Yet more 
presumption on such unparalleled lenity 1 Shall that 
sacred cheek be contaminated by thine unhallowed 
touch ] The tongue of him who has agreed to sell his 
Master, dares say '* Hail ;" the lips which have passed 
the compact of his death, dare to kiss him whom they 
had covenanted to murder. O Savior, the scourge, the 
thorns, the cross, the spear of thy persecutors were not 
so painful, so piercing as this kiss of Judas. The stahs 
of an enemy could not be so ginevous as the treacherous 
embrace of a disciple. 



92.— THE AGONY. 

What a prelude do we find to our Savior's passion ! 
A liymn and an agony. A cheeerful hymn and an 
agony no less sorrowful. A hymn begins, both to 
raise and to testify the courage of the divine sufferer — 
an agony iolUnvs, to show that ho was truly sensible of 
those extremities of pain and sorrow which he was about 
to endure. All the apostles (the perfidious Judas ex- 
cepted) bore their part in tliat hymn. It was fit they 
should all see that heroic magnanimity with which he 



THE AGONY. 457 

entered into the lists with his mighty enemies. Only 
three shall be allowed to be witnesses of his agony — 
those chosen disciples who had seen his transfiguration, 
That sight had well fore-armed and prepared them for 
the scenes which should follow. How could they be dis- 
heartened at the spectacle of his sorrows, who had con- 
templated his splendid Majesty on Mount Tabor 1 How 
could their faith and constancy be shaken by his suffer- 
ings, who had been present at the manifestation of his 
celestial radiance, when his face did shine as the sun, and 
his raiment was bright as the light 1 How could they 
be offended at seeing him encompassed by Judas and 
his train, whom they had seen receiving homage from 
Moses and Elias 1 How could they be discouraged at 
hearing the reproaches of base and slanderous men, 
when they had heard the voice of God bearing witness 
from that excellent glory, " This is my beloved Son, in 
whom I am well pleased 1" 

Now before the eyes of these apostles the Savior of 
mankind is entering into a dark cloud of anguish — " He 
began to be sorrowful and very heavy." Many anxious 
thoughts for those whom he came to redeem had on for- 
mer occcisions been subdued by his divine fortitude — at 
last his grief is too great to be concealed — " My soul is 
exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." Blessed Lord, 
what must thou have felt at the moment of thy com- 
plaining 1 Feeble minds are apt to bemoan themselves 
on slight occasions — but that grief must needs be violent 
which causes a strong heart to break forth into passion- 
ate lamentation. Alas, what a word is this for thee, the 
Son of God, to utter ! Where is that Comforter whom 
thou didst promise to send to others 1 Where is thine 
eternal Father, the Father of all mercies and God of all 
comfort, in whose presence is the fulness of joy, and at 
whose right hand there is pleasure for evermore 1 Where 
is thine undaunted resolution, that thou wouldst walk 

Script. Hist. 20 



458 hall's scripture history. 

tbrougli the valley of the shadow of death without fear 1 
O Lord, thou couldst not thus have suffered, had not the 
face of thy God been for a while withdra\>Ti from thee, 
that thou mightest " tread the wine-2:>res3 alone." 

But to whom dost thou reveal thy sorrows, O Savior 
of mankind ? Hard is the lot of him who must resort for 
support to his inferiors. Had Peter, or James, or John 
uttered such a lamentation to thee, they would at once 
liave found rest to their souls — thou wouldst have been 
both ready to show compassion and able to afford relief 
But now, while thou makest thy lamentation to them, what 
issue dost thou expect 1 They might be astonished and 
filled with horror at thy grief, but they had no power to 
give thee assistance, or even to mitigate, while they 
shared, thy wo. Indeed, what could all the angels of 
heaven, of themselves, do to succor thee 1 What strength 
could they have but from thee 1 What creature can 
help when thou complainest 1 

The venerable Simeon prophesied to thy blessed moth- 
er, that a sword should pierce through her soul. How 
many swords in one moment pierced through thine, 
when thou criedst out, " My soul is exceeding sorrowful 
even unto death ]" It was not thy body that suffered 
now — yet thou who wert best acquainted with the nature 
of thy sorrows, declarest thyself not only assaulted, but 
possessed, by grief — grief so vehement as to be without 
relaxation, and as it were without remedy — exceeding 
sorrotcful unto death. 

O blessed Savior, what was it, what could it be, which 
thus lay heavy on thy divine soul 1 Was it that thou 
didst fear to die 1 Was it that thou didst shrink with 
liorror from the pain, and shame, and torment of thine 
approaching crucifixion ? O poor and base thoughts of 
weak and impotent mortality ! How many thousands of 
thy blessed martyrs have welcomed no less exquisite tor- 
tures with smiles and congratulations ? how many have 



THE AGONY. 459 

triumphed in the midst of those sufferings which their 
very persecutors thought were intolerable 1 If their 
weakness was thus undaunted, and could thus prevail, 
how could thy power fail of the victory 1 No — it was 
the grievous weight of the sin of a guilty world — it was 
the burden of thy Father's wrath in consequence of that 
sin, which thus pressed upon thy soul, and wrung from 
thee these affecting lamentations. 

What can it avail thee, O Savior, to tell thy grief to 
man ] Who can afford thee succor, but He of whom 
(speaking in thy human character) thou saidst, " My 
Father is greater than I V Lo, to Him thou hast re- 
course. "O my Father, if it be possible, remove this 
cup from me !" 

Was not this the prayer, blessed Lord, which in the 
days of thy flesh thou offeredst up, with strong crying 
and tears, unto Him that was able to save thee from 
death 1 Never was any voice so strong — never was God 
80 solicited. O thou who saidst, " I and my Father are 
One," dost thou suffer ought from thy Father but what 
thou hadst consented, hadst determined to suffer ? Was 
this cup placed in thy hands by accident or by compul- 
sion 1 Away with these mistaken suppositions of igno- 
rance and frailty. Thou camest to suffer, and thou wouldst 
do what thou camest for. But since thou wert willing to 
embrace the whole of our human nature, sin only except- 
ed — since it is human and not sinful for the heart to recoil 
at suffering — thou wouldst both show what the nature 
which thou hadst assumed would be inclined to wish, and 
what, in regard to the salvation of mankind, thou hadst 
deliberately fixed on. "Not as I will, but as thou wilt !"^ 

While thy mind was thus agitated by varied emotions, 
no marvel if thy feet were not fixed — thy place is 
changed, but not thy thoughts — now thou awakenest the 
vigilance of thy disciples — now thou retumest to thy 
ardent prayer. Again thou art prostrate on thy face — . 



460 hall's scripture history. 

thy soul as well as thy body is brought low, even to the 
earth — it cleaveth to the dust. As thy soitows increase, 
so doth the vehemence of thy supplication — " Being in 
an agony, he prayed more earnestly — and his sweat was, 
as it were, great drops of blood falling down to the 
ground." O thou Lover of souls, what pain, what fear, 
what strife, what horror was in thy sacred breast ! How 
didst thou struggle under the burden of our offences 
while thou wert encountering the indignation of heaven 
in our behalf ! Till thou earnest to take our human na- 
ture, all was peace with thee — thou wert one with thy co- 
eternal Father — all the angels worshipped thee — all the 
powers of heaven and earth acknowledged thy supreme 
dominion. It was thy condition as man, which exposed 
thee to this misery and tonnent. In that, thou didst sus- 
tain thy Father's wrath. If eternal death be intolerable — 
if every sin deserve eternal death — what were those suf- 
ferings which in one tremendous hour made atonement 
for a guilty world ! Teach us, oh teach us to abhor our 
own wickedness — to admire and to bless thy mercy. 

But, O ye glorious spirits who came to comfort the 
Savior of mankind in his agony, how did ye look upon 
the Son of God when ye saw him in this severity of 
conflict ! With what astonishment did ye behold the 
object of your adorations thus ** acquainted with grief!" 
In the wilderness, after he had been assaulted by Satan, 
ye came and ministered unto him — and now, after a hard- 
er combat, ye appear to strengthen him. O marvellous 
dispensation of the Almighty — an angel shall relieve him 
whom God doth afflict. The Son shall suffer — the ser- 
vant shall bring consolation. The God of angels is over- 
' whelmed with sorrow — the angel of God appears unto 
him, strengthening him. 

Blessed Jesus, if as a man thou wouldst be made a 
little lower than the angels, it could not dishonor thee to 
be attended and comforted by an angel. Thine humility 



PETER AND MALCHUS. 461 

would not have disdained relief, however administered — 
thy God pours balm into thy wounds, as seemeth good 
in his sight. Behold, though thy cup shall not pass from 
thee, its bitterness shall be diminished — though thou see 
not the face of thy Father, the hand of his mercy is upon 
thee — what could that spirit have done but under the 
sanction of the God of spirits 1 O Father of mercies, thou 
mayest bring thy servants into agony, but thou wilt not 
give them over unto despair. "Whatever are the means 
of our support, we acknowledge and adore the Author. 
*' In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy com- 
forts delight my soul," 



93.— PETER AND MALCHUS. 

Alas, what broken reeds are menl While our Savior 
is in his agony, the apostles are sleeping, as in a moment 
of the most profound tranquillity. Admonitions, threaten- 
ings. entreaties, cannot induce them to watch one hour 
with their suffering Master. While he tells them of 
danger, they think of ease — and though twice awakened, 
return to their slumber. O Lord, what consolation was 
afforded thee by these thy followers 1 The sincerity of 
their intentions was rendered ineffectual by the preva- 
lence of mortal infirmity. In the mount where thou 
wert transfigured they were overwhelmed with amaze- 
ment — and now in the hour of thine agony they are lost 
in sleep, when they should compassionate thy sufferings. 

Doubtless even this disregard made thy prayers more 
fer^-ent. The less comfort we meet with on earth, the 
more we seek, the more we find above. Thou, O Sa- 
vior, " wert heard in that thou fearedst." An angel sup- 



462 hall's scripture history. 

plies what was deficient through the weakness of men. 
That spirit was vigilant while thy disciples slept. Thou 
couldst not but be benefited by the exchange. 

No sooner is this good angel departed than the son of 
perdition appears. Judas shows himself at the head of 
his band of ruffians. The remorseless traitor, who had so 
long followed his blessed Master, affects to be the leader 
of these barbarous assailants — still he mixes hypocrisy 
with villany — his very salutations and kisses murder. 
Even now, O Lord, (while the audacious sinner by hia 
enormities crucifies thee afresh,) the false pretender to 
religion betrays thee. All who under a show of godliness 
practise impiety — all who honor thee with their lips, 
while their hearts are far from thee, walk in the steps of 
the apostate Judas, and follow his example. 

Who can, without the liveliest emotions, hear the gi'a- 
cious words of the Lamb of God to his rebellious disci- 
ple ? " Friendy wherefore art thou come V As yet, 
Judas, it was not too late. Had one spark of grace re- 
mained in thy perfidious bosom, that word had brought 
thee on thy knees. But all this sunshine cannot melt an 
obdurate heart. The sign is given : Jesus is taken. 
Wretched traitor, why wouldst ihou for this purpose be 
so attended ] Why was such a band so armed, employed 
against the Lord of life 1 Had our Savior refused to 
obey, all the forces of the world, all the powers of hell 
had been insufficient ; and since he was ready to be deliv- 
ered up into the hands of sinners, there was no need of 
an hostile multitude. When he said, " I am he," that 
breath alone routed all the troops, and cast them to the 
earth. What if he had said, " I will not be taken," 
where had they been 1 or what could their swords and 
staves have done against omnipotence ? 

The disciples who had failed of their vigilance, fail not 
of their courage. They had heard their Master speak of 
providing weapons, and now they thought it was time to 



PETER AND MALCHUS. 463 

use them — " Lord, shall we smite 1" But Peter, instead 
of opening his lips, unsheaths his sword — instead of 
waiting for permission, smites. He had noted Malchus, 
a servant of the high priest, too ready to second Judas 
and to raise his sacrilegious hand against the Savior of 
mankind. On a sudden his indignation rises and his arm 
is lifted up. That ear which had officiously listened to 
the unjust arid cruel charge of a wicked traitor, is now 
severed from the head of this audacious offender. 

I love and honor thy zeal, O blessed disciple. Thou 
couldst not endure the wrong done to thy divine Master. 
Had thy life been dearer to thee than his safety, thou 
wouldst not have drawn thy sword upon a whole troop. 
It was in the sincerity of thine heart (notwithstanding 
the sad events which followed) that thou hadst aveiTed, 
** Though all men should be offended, yet will not I — 
though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee." 
But wherefore didst thou not rather attack the miscreant 
who betrayed thy Lord, than the stranger who arrested 
liim ? Were not the head and heart which devised this 
atrocious mischief more culpable than the hand which 
executed it '? Was not the treason of a friend more odi- 
ous than the hostility of an hireling ] Or was it that the 
guilty wretch, after the perpetration of his crime, shroud- 
ed himself under the wings of darkness ? — that thou 
couldst not at once comprehend the extent of his villany'? 
— that thou couldst not instantly be roused to indignation 
against him who had been thy companion, thine equal, 
and thine own familiar friend 1 Whatever were thy 
motives, the act itself meets with reproof from that inno- 
cent Sufferer in whose defence thou vvert thus insensible 
of danger. " Put up again thy sword into its place — for 
all they that take the sword, shall perish by the sword." 
Good intentions will not give a sanction to intemperate 
rashness. The God whom we serve can at once accept 
our m.eaning and censure our act. Could there be an 



464 hall's scripture history. 

object more worthy of zealous affection than such a Mas- 
ter 1 Could there be a more just cause wherein to be 
prodigal of life 1 Yet this love, this cause cannot exempt 
Peter from the gentle correction of his Lord. 

When the Prince of Peace bade his followers sell 
their garments and buy a sword, he meant to insinuate 
the danger, not the method of averting it. "When they 
therefore replied, ** Behold, here are tico swords," he 
answered, ** It is enough." If he had actually intended 
to arm them in his defence, many more would have been 
necessary. If he would be led as an unresisting victim 
to the slaughter, the zeal of Peter is superfluous — " Put 
up thy sword." There is a temporal sword ; and he 
who bears it, bears it not in vain : for he is ordained to 
be an avenger, thatM^rath maybe executed on evil-doers. 
But wo to him who draws it without just authority, 
without lawful commission from above ! No mars-el if 
they who so take the sword should, by a just retribution, 
perish by the sword. ** Thou hast zeal, O my faithful 
servant, but not according to knowledge. Thine act is 
not only inconsiderate, but dangerous. The cup ichich 
my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it ? Thou 
drawest thy sword to rescue me from suffering. Alas, if 
I suffer not, what would become of thee 1 what would 
become of mankind ] how would effect be given to that 
eternal purpose, whereby I am a Lamb slain from the 
beginning of the world "? Wilt thou hinder thine own 
salvation, and that of all others, to the end of time ? 
Hast thou forgotten the rebuke given thee on a former 
occasion, when thou didst suggest to me this immunity 
from my passion 1 Mat. 16 : 23, and wilt thou attempt 
a real opposition to this great and necessary work ] 
Canst thou imagine that this suffering of mine is not al- 
together free and voluntary ? Canst thou think that I 
yield, as having no means of resistance ? Have not I giv- 
en to thee, and to the world, the most undeniable proofe 



PETER AND MALCHUS. 465 

of my omnipotence t Even now hast thou seen the pow- 
erful efficacy of one word from my lips on these weak as- 
sailants. At this moment, were I to ask aid of my Father, 
all the glorious angels of heaven would leave their thrones 
for my rescue. Could this accord with the justice of my 
decree, with the glory of my mercy, with the benefit of 
man's redemption, it would be done — my power would 
triumph over the impotent malice of my enemies. But 
now, as that decree must be accomplished, as that mercy 
must be approved, as mankind must be ransomed, as all 
this cannot be done without my suffering, thy well-meant 
valor is no other than a wrong to thyself, to the world, to 
me, to my Father." 

While thou rebukest the zeal of thy disciple, O Lord, 
thou dost at the same time interpose for his presei-^^ation. 
Though he hath smitten, he is unwounded — though his 
arm hath caused blood to flow from thine enemy, he re- 
ceives no return of violence from that band of ruffians. 
It was thy power which restrained their rage — thy 
gracious interposition which prevented their revenge. 

Meanwhile, how does thine example as well as thy 
doctrine teach us the forgiveness of injuries ! O thou 
compassionate Savior, many greater wonders hadst thou 
wrought — none which exhibited more mercy, more divine 
meekness, than this thy last miracle of healing — none 
which more loudly proclaimed thy gracious clemency, thy 
goodness to thy very enemies. Wherefore came this man 
but in a hostile manner to deprive thee of life or liberty ? 
What pretensions could the ser\'ant of Caiaphas make to 
favor ] Had hg^not been foremost among thine assail- 
ants, how would he have met the sword of thine apostle ? 
Yet now, encircled by the throng of thine apprehenders, 
while their malice and violence were at their height, 
while thou wert in instant peril of death, thou healest 
that ear which had refused to hearken to thine instructive 
voice — which had listened eagerly to the blasphemy of 

20* 



466 hall's scripture history. 

the multitucle, while they conspired to take away thy life. 
O Malchus, is not thine heart broken with remorse for 
having meditated evil against one endued with so much 
power and goodness 1 Wilt thou devise further mischief 
against him 1 Wilt thou not acknowledge his omnipo- 
tence and magnify his tender mercies ] Can thy com- 
panions behold a spectacle like this with relentless 
hearts 1 Unthankful Malchus and cruel soldiers, ye will 
not abandon your execrable purpose. Steeled against 
pity, remorse, conviction, ye persist in your bloody en- 
terprise — ye accomplish your hoixible design. " They 
that had laid hold on Jesus led him away." 



94.— CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS. 

The traitor Judas, who soon after terminated his 
crimes by a miserable suicide, gave this charge concern- 
ins: his blessed Master — *' Hold him fast." Fear makes 
his guard cmel : they bind their innocent prisoner, and 
think no manacles strong enough for this mighty adver- 
sary. Behold those hands which made ^jeaven and earth 
wrung together and bruised with those merciless cords — 
behold Him bound who came to restore us to the liberty 
of the children of God — behold the Lord of Life contemp- 
tuously dragged through the streets of Jerusalem to An- 
nas, to Caiaphas, to Pilate, to Herod, wTUIe the base and 
inconstant multitude follow him with expressions of insult 
and contumely ! The act of death has not in it so much 
misery and horror as the pomp of death. 

But what needed all this pageant of cruelty 1 Where- 
fore this lingering of an unjust execution 1 Was it that 
their malice thought a quick despatch too great mercy t 



CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS. 467 

Was it that while they meant to be bloody they would 
seem to be equitable ] A sudden violence would have 
been evidently murderous : now the color of a legal pro- 
cess seems to conceal their deep malignity — seems to 
render them honorable, and the accused guilty. 

This seizure of our Lord was effected in its proper 
hour — a deed of so much darkness was not for the liglit. 
It is now resolved that he shall die ; and now pretences 
are sought that he may appear worthy of death. The 
priests, and scribes, and elders are foremost in this atro- 
cious act — they have paid the price of his blood, and they 
look on Jesus as their own. The convention is held in 
the hall of Caiaphas. False witnesses are sought for and 
receive their instructions. What safety can innocence 
find where the evidence is thus wilfully corrupted ] 
What state was ever so pure as not to afford some mis- 
creants who would barter their conscience for gold ? 
Yet even so the accusers of Jesus agree not, but shame 
themselves and their suborners. God hath set a mark 
upon falsehood — he hath stigmatized it with dissonance 
and distraction. Blessed Savior, w^hat purity was in thy 
doctrine, .w];iat holiness in thy life, that malice itself, 
when it sought thy destruction, could not so much as de- 
vise what to slander ! 

At last two false witnesses are found, whose testimony 
is less incongi'uous and contradictory to itself — " This 
fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and 
to build it in three days." And were these the words 
which proceeded from his sacred lips 1 He spake of a 
temple — of destroying — of building — of three days ; but 
he spake of the temple of his body : in the figurative lan- 
guage of prophecy he fore-shadowed his death and his 
resun-ection — he spake of his conflict, and his victory. 
The words were his — the construction yours ; the words 
were true — the evidence false and slanderous. 

Where the resolution is previously taken, any pretence 



468 hall's scripture history. 

will be sufficient to carry it into effect. Had those words 
been spoken, as it was suggested, they contained no 
crime — had he been, as they supposed him, a mere man, 
the speech had carried a semblance of ostentation, no 
semblance of blasphemy. Yet how vehement is Caia- 
phas for an answer ! as if that hallowed pile had already 
suffered sacrilegious violence : as if our Lord had rashly 
assailed the temple and Him that dwelleth therein. 

That infinite wisdom well knew how little satisfaction 
there could be in his reply, where the sentence was de- 
termined. *' Jesus held his peace." Where the ques- 
tioner is unworthy, the question captious, the tendency 
of it malicious, the best answer is silence. 

When our Lord stood before the cruel Annas, his 
sacred cheek was smitten for his just and moderate re- 
ply — now his silence is no less displeasing. Caiaphas 
was crafty as well as rancorous. What was in vain at- 
tempted by false witnesses, shall be accomplished by 
means of the prisoner himself — a solemn adjuration shall 
make it unnecessary to have recourse to the testimony 
of accusers. ** I adjure thee by the living God that thou 
tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God." O 
Caiaphas, thy lips are unhallowed, but thy charge is 
dreadful. Now, if Jesus hold his peace, he incurs the 
guilt of disregarding that awful name — if he speak, he is 
ensnared. An affinuation is death — a denial, worse than 
death. Now then shalt thou leara that it was not fear 
which had closed that gracious mouth. He who hath 
charged us to* confess him before men, will not refuse to 
confess himself — "Jesus saith unto him, Tliou. hast said." 

There is a time to keep silence, and a time to speak — 
Christ, the wisdom of God, hath given us an example of 
both. We must not so speak as to give advantage to 
cavils — we must not be so silent as to betray the truth. 
Proud and insulting Caiaphas, no longer shalt thou com- 
plain of a speechless prisoner : thou shalt liear more 



CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS. 469 

than thou demandest. " Hereafter shall ye see the Son 
of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming 
in the clouds of heaven." There spake the Messiah — 
the voice of God, and not of man. The Son of Man, 
whom thou seest arraigned before thy consistorial seat, 
is the Son of God, whom thou shalt hereafter behold, to 
thine unutterable confusion, sitting in majesty on the 
throne of heaven, attended with thousands of glorious 
angels, and coming in the clouds to that dreadful judg- 
ment, when profane and remorseless hypocrites shall 
stand before his just tribunal, and receive the recom- 
pense due to their crimes. 

The design of Caiaphas is answered. Now, in an af- 
fected zeal for the honor of religion, he rends his gar- 
ments at the words of Christ. Certain of the applause 
and support of those around him, he addresses them as 
one jealous for the insulted majesty of God. " What 
further need have we of witnesses 1 Behold now ye have 
heard his blasphemy. What think ye f And they an- 
swered and said, " He is guilty of death." 

What indignities can be too great for him Avho is de- 
clared worthy to die ] Now, O blessed Lord, is the fury 
of thy malignant enemies let loose upon thee. Now is 
thy face defiled with their spittle-'— now their cruel hands 
are lifted up to buffet thy cheek — now scorn and insult 
trample upon thy humble patience. " Prophesy unto us, 
thou Christ — who is he that smote thee V The predic- 
tions of thy lamentable passion are literally fulfilled. 
Well spake the Holy Ghost of thee by the mouth of 
Esaias, " He was despised and rejected of men, a man 
of sorrows, and acquainted with grief — for the transgres- 
sion of my people was he smitten." Thou art buffeted, 
O Lord, in whose mouth was no guile — thou art con- 
demned, who canst alone absolve the world. 

But, O gracious and merciful Redeemer, how can we 
sufficiently adore the wonders of thy love, who in the 



470 hall'6 scripture history. 

midst of all these scenes of barbarity couldst vouchsafe 
to cast an eye of pity on thy frail, thy fallen apostle ! 
When that murderous band apprehended thee, thou 
didst forget thine own danger, and warn him against the 
effects of intemperate and furious zeal — now, in the 
midst of thine arraignment and condemnation, thou dis- 
regardest thy personal sufferings, to reclaim him from 
more grievous errors — and by that seasonable look, to 
strike his heart with salutary contrition. He who lately 
was so intrepid as to hazard his life in thy defence, now 
shrinks from the imputation of being thy disciple — he 
who had not been daunted with the sight of a hostile 
troop, is at once deprived of courage by a word. Thou 
didst foreshow his danger, and by thine admonition didst 
aggravate his offence. The stone at which he stumbled 
was previously pointed out to him by thy wisdom and 
mercy. How loud were his declarations, that though he 
should die with thee, he would not deny thee '? Had he 
received that too necessary caution with trembling 
silence, his fall had been less shameful and dangerous. 
Good purposes, when they are abandoned, serve only to 
augment the guilt and sorrow of the offender. 

O Peter, whence this vehement and peremptory de- 
nial of thy blessed Master 1 What danger had attended 
on thy public profession of thine adherence to him ? One 
of thy companions was known to the high-priest as a 
follower of Jesus — yet he not only came into the assem- 
bly where his innocent Master was declared worthy of 
death, but procured thy subsequent admission. They 
that kept the door knew him to be, what he affected not 
to conceal — they therefore address thee with confidence 
— " Art not thou aho one of this man's disciples 1" What 
accusatif»n was brought against thine associate ? What 
danger did he incur ] Whence arose thy fear and con- 
sternation 1 Was it that thou wert apprehensive of pun- 
ishment by means of the late-wounded Malchus, his 



CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 471 

friends, or kinsman'?- Didst tliou despair of assistance 
from thy Lord now standing at the tribunal of his arro- 
gant enemies ] To avoid the imputation of too much 
zeal, dost thou renounce all knowledge of him for whom 
that zeal had been exerted ] 

Be this as it may, thy sin was heinous. I tremble at 
the fall of such an apostle. It was thou, O Peter, who 
didst afflict thy Master more than these insolent Jews. 
It was to thee he turned his face from them, that he 
might see the man by whom he most smarted — he heard 
thy thrice repeated denials, and answered thee with a 
look — such a look as was able to melt and to convert 
the soul. That one glance hath recalled thee to virtue 
and to repentance — it hath awakened thy faith, thy love, 
thy constancy — but it hath caused to flow abundantly the 
streams of penitential sorrow. Now is thine head as 
waters, and thine eyes are as fountains of tears. " And 
Peter went out and wept bitterly." 



95.— CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 

The Jewish people had rejected their heavenly King, 
and justly fell under the Roman yoke. Too well did 
Tiberius consult their froward and restless dispositions, 
in delegating his authority to one who permitted their 
malice to wield the sword which had been wrested from 
them by their conquerors. 

Had they been suffered to retain the power of life and 
death in their own hands, they would not have been be- 
holden to Pilate for the murder of our Lord. Now, re- 
pining at their slavery, but at the same time not unwilling 
to cast the odium of this bloodshed on another, the great 



472 hall's scripture history. 

masters of Israel flock from their own consistory to the 
judgment-hall of Pilate. The sentence had been theirs, 
the execution must be his. They approach the Roman 
governor with assurance of success — they imagine that 
their numbers, their age, their authority cannot fail of 
completing their triumph over Jesus of Nazareth. 

But wherefore, O ye rulers of Jerusalem, do ye i-e- 
main at the door of Pilate % Why do ye not enter that 
public court of judicature, to call for the justice ye are 
soliciting? Was it that ye would not defile yourselves 
with the contagion of a heathen's roof? Holy men ! your 
consciences would not suffer you to yield to so impure 
an act — your passover must be kept — your persons must 
be hallowed — while ye pretend to seek justice from the 
man, ye abhor the pollution of the place. Vv^o unto you, 
scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! Could there be any 
mansion so unclean as that of your own breasts ? Not 
Pilate's walls, but your hearts are impure. Is murder 
your errand, and do you fear a local infection ? Are ye 
thirsting after innocent blood, and do ye fear to be de- 
filed by setting your foot on Pilate's pavement 1 Where- 
ever ye are met, O ye dissemblers, there is the resort of 
guilt, of impiety, of foul and atrocious wickedness. 

The lenient governor condescends to gratify their su- 
perstition. They dare not come within his walls : he 
goes forth to the blood-thirsty consjiirators. There is 
more equity amongst Romans than amongst these barba- 
rous Jews. Even Pilate begins the conference with the 
just and necessary inquiry, ** What accusation bring you 
against this man ?" The priests and elders thought it 
enough that they had sentenced Jesus — they expected no 
other than a speedy execution. Civil justice must blind- 
ly second their murderous designs. They deem it enough 
conviction that he is given up to the secular powers — 
they have judged ; Pilate must kill. " If he icere not a 
malefactor, we xcould not have delivered him up unto thee. 



CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 473 

What needs any minute investigation ? Dost thou know, 
Pilate, by whom thou art addressed ] Is this the respect 
paid to our holy priesthood ] Is this thine estimation of 
our sanctity 1 Had the meanest of the vulgar complained 
to thee thou couldst not have shown more jealousy and 
suspicion. Our rank, our station might have exempted us 
from such distrust. If our scrupulous observance of the 
law of Moses forbids us even to enter thy walls, how canst 
thou question the purity of our consciences ] After a full 
hearing, mature deliberation, and all possible regard to 
justice, we have sentenced this malefactor to death — 
nothing more remains but thy command for its infliction." 

O malice and iniquity beyond example ! Must he 
needs be a criminal, O ye priests and elders, whom ye 
are resolved to condemn ? Is your word a sufficient 
authority for murder 1 How often have ye and your 
fathers been stained with innocent blood ] By whose 
hands perished the prophets ? Had truth and sincerity 
governed your lips, ye must have exclaimed, " l£we had 
not been malefactors, we should not have delivered up 
to thee this guiltless object of our hatred." 

That must needs be notoriously unjust which Pagans 
cannot hear without detestation. Pilate receives the 
base and wicked suggestions of the Jewish elders with 
deserved abhorrence — " Do ye pretend holiness, and 
urge so injurious violence 1 If he be such as ye repre- 
sent, where are the proofs of his crime ? If he be not 
legally sentenced, why should he die ? Is your com- 
plaint sufl^cient conviction ] If I must decide, wherefore 
do ye prejudge 1 Can you imagine that I will condemn 
any man unheard 1 If your Jewish laws give you this 
liberty, the Roman laws give it not to me. Rather com- 
plete the work ye have begun ; and if your prisoner is 
deserving of punishment, let him be punished to the ex- 
tent of your delegated power. Take ye him, and judge 
him according to your lavj.'' 



474 hall's scripture history. 

How palpably doth the tongue of these accusers he- 
tray the malice of their hearts ! They answered, " It is 
not lawful for us to put any man to death.'^ Pilate 
speaks of judgment — they speak of that which was their 
only aim. Law is but a pretext — ^judgment is but a 
ceremony — death is their object, and without this all 
their hopes are frustrated. It was well that power 
should be restrained where malice and cruelty are thus 
predominant. No innocence could be safe if these san- 
guinary tyrants were uncontrolled. Indeed, their fury 
did not always confine itself within the prescribed limits. 
What law permitted them to put to death that holy and 
innocent Martyr, whose expiring voice uttered a prayer 
for his murderers ] Even now what law jiermitted them 
to procure that death by false and unjust insinuation, 
which they were not permitted to ivflict ? It is the 
wretched policy of hypocrites to seek a plausible pre- 
tence for the accomplishment of their crimes, and to 
make no other use of laws, whether divine or human, 
than such as tends to promote their hateful purposes. 

The adversaries of Christ, once more interrogated, 
are not at a loss for their reply. ** What accusations, O 
Pilate 1 Heinous and capital. Thou mightst have be- 
lieved our solemn asseveration — but since thou wilt needs 
urge us to detail particulars, know that we found this 
man perverting the natioii, and forbidding to give tribute 
to Casar — saying that himself is Christ, a King. We 
come furnished with such a charge as cannot but fill 
thee with horror and astonishment. Besides the blas- 
phemy which led us to esteem his life forfi;ited, he is a 
seducer of the people, a raiser of sedition, a bold usurper 
of sovereignty." O Savior, what marvel is it if thy faith- 
ful servants are loaded with slanders, when thou, who 
wert innocence itself, couldst not escape these shameful 
eliminations 1 Thou a perverter of the nation, who didst 
teach the way of God truly ! Thou a forbidder of tribute, 



CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 475 

who didst pay it, didst prescribe it, who didst prove it to 
be Caesar's due ! Thou a claimant of temporal dominion, 
who didst avoid it, who didst renounce it, who didst take 
upon thee the form a servant ! Well does thine apostle 
remind us, that through evil report as well as good re- 
port lies the path of those servants who would follow 
their blessed Master. " False witnesses did rise up , 
they laid to thy charge things that thou knewest not — 
their mouth was full of cursing, deceit and fraud — under 
their tongue was mischief and vanity." 

Now Pilate is startled at their accusations : the charge 
is of such a nature as to awaken his most serious atten- 
tion. No longer does he deem it *' a question of their 
own superstition." He is brought back, as by some po- 
tent spell, to the hall of judgment. At his tribunal the 
innocent and holy Jesus stands meekly to be judged — he 
who shall at the last day come to judge the quick and the 
dead — he, before whose awful majesty a guilty world 
shall stand in terror and amazement. 

The name of a king, the name of Caesar is brought in 
question — the least whisper of usurpation or disturbance is 
received with proper jealousy and care. Pilate demands 
of his prisoner, "Art thou then the King of the Jews V 
He felt himself wounded in the tenderest part. Daniel's 
iveeks were known to be near their expiration. Many 
arrogant usurpers, (as Judas of Galilee, Theudas and the 
Egyptian seducer,) under this pretext, had raised several 
conspiracies, set up new titles to the crown, gathered 
forces to maintain their false claims. Pilate imagines 
this to be a case of the same nature, and eagerly seeks 
for information. 

He who was no less wisdom than truth thought it not 
best either to affirm or to deny at once. To disclaim 
that title suddenly, which had of old been given him by 
the prophets, at his birth by the easteni sages, and so 
lately by the applauding multitude, would have been in- 



476 hall's scripture history. 

jurious to himself. To challenge and demand it abso- 
lutely would have derogated from the unambitious 
meekness of his character. By wise and just degrees 
therefore doth he so affirm this truth, that he both satis- 
fies the inquirer and takes off all invidiousness from his 
assertion. Pilate shall know that he is a King; but 
such as no king needs to di'ead, such as all kings ought 
to acknowledge and adore. " My kingdom is not of this 
world." It is your own misconception, O ye earthly 
potentates, which is the parent of your fears. Herod 
hears of a King born, and is troubled. Pilate hears of a 
King of the Jews, and is incensed. Were ye not igno- 
rant, ye could not be jealous — had ye learned to distin- 
guish aright, your suspicions would vanish. 

There is an earthly, and there is a heavenly kingdom 
— neither of these militate against the other. Your 
kingdom is secular — Christ's is spiritual : your laws are 
civil — his divine : your reign is temporal — his eternal : 
your glory is in pom^?, in riches, in magnificence — his 
glory is in the graces of sanctification, love, peace, righte- 
ousness, joy in the Holy Ghost. You are opposed by 
bold usurpers and seditious insurgents — his enemies are 
the devil, the world and the flesh. Your sword is mate- 
rial — his the power of the "Word and Spirit : your rule 
is over this outward frame — his over the heart and con- 
science : you can but kill the body — he is able to destroy 
both soul and body in hell. So far is he from opposing 
your government, that by him ye reign — your scejDtres 
are his — but to maintain, not to wteld ; much less to re- 
sist. O the unjust fears of vain men ! His intention is 
not to make you less great, but more happy. He takes 
not away your earthly kingdoms, who can give you heav- 
enly — he removes not your present diadems, who can 
crown you with immortal glory. 



CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 477 

96.— CHRIST BEFORE TIL ATH. ^continued. 

The accusation is so fully disproved that Pilate ac- 
quits his prisoner. The Jewish rulers stand without — 
their malice still yields to their superstition. Pilate has 
examined Jesus in the judgment-hall, and now comes 
forth to these eager complainants with an answer ill-suit- 
ed to their expectations — " I find in him no fault at all." 
O noble testimony to Christ's innocence, from those lips 
which afterwards doomed him to death ! When the Ro- 
man governor becomes a slave to the malignant Jews, 
he can then say, *' Let him be crucified." That cruel 
sentence cannot stigmatize him who has received this 
free attestation. In spite of the rancor of his enemies, 
his guiltless life shall have its just tribute of praise — 
rather than Christ shall want witness, the mouth of 
Pilate shall be opened in his justification. 

How were the murderous Jew^s thunderstruck with 
this unexpected word ! The absolution of Jesus was 
death to their hopes : his acquittal was their conviction. 
" No fault, when we have found crimes 1 No fault at all, 
when we have condemned him for capital offences '? 
How palpably doth Pilate brand us with falsehood ! 
How shamefully doth he affront our authority and dis- 
j)arage our administration of justice !" The open and 
ingenuous declaration of the governor exasperates the 
fury of these zealots — the fire of their indignation is 
heated seven times more by the sense of their repulse. 

As yet, Pilate is not only just but merciful. Gladly 
would he have protected Jesus, whom he had found 
faultless. 

Corrupt custom, in memory of their deliverance from 
Egyptian bondage, induced the Jews at their passover 
to liberate one prisoner, however grievous the crimes 
laid against him. Pilate seeks to avail himself of their 



478 HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

assumed jirivilege for the safety of Jesus. That he 
might be more likely to prevail, he opposes him to the 
nomination of a malefactor so notorious as might be 
justly deemed unworthy of all mercy — Barabbas, a 
thief, a murderer, an exciter of sedition — infamous for 
all — odious to all. Had he proposed a prisoner whose 
guilt was questionable, he might have feared the decis- 
ion — he cannot doubt the competition between Jesus of 
Nazareth and that atrocious ciiminal. " Then cried they 
all again, Not this man, hut Barabbas /" 

Who can but lament that a heathen should see Jews 
so impetuously unjust, so savagely cruel ? He knew that 
there was no fault to be found in Jesus ; he knew that 
there was no crime not to be found in Barabbas — yet 
he hears, and blushes to hear, their malignant outcry. 
*' Though they found no cause of death in him, yet desir- 
ed they Pilate that he should be slain — they denied the 
Holy One and the Just, and demanded a murderer to be 
granted unto them." O Savior, what an indignity was 
this from thine own nation ! Didst thou refuse all glory, 
to put on shame and misery for their sakes ] Didst thou 
disregard thyself to save them, and do they refuse thee 
for Barabbas ? Didst thou say, ** Not heaven, but earth ; 
not sovereignty, but service ; not honor, but abasement ;'* 
and do they say, " Not him, but Barabbas 1" 

Thus did ye requite the Lord, O foolish people and 
unjust. Thus was his soul wounded, even before his 
death — while he saw your impious rage, and heard your 
clamor, " Crucify, crucify !" 

Pilate would have chastised and released his prisoner. 
Even this had been an act of cruelty — for what evil had 
Jesus done ? but the cruelty of Pilate was tender mercy in 
comparison with that of the Jews ; no punishment would 
satisfy them but the death of their victim. While the Ro- 
man governor again proclaims our Savior's innocence, 
his enemies more loudly proclaim their inveterate ma- 



Christ BEFont pilate. 479 

lice. They cried the more, '* Crucify him, crucify him '/' 

As their clamor increased the justice of Pilate declin- 
ed. His feeble and dubious virtue was carried away by 
the tide of popular tumult. Thrice had he declared our 
Lord guiltless ; now, " willing to content the people," he 
prepares to sentence him to death. O wretched slave to 
human ambition ! Not God, not his conscience meets 
with regard, but the giddy multitude — that senseless idol 
of the proud man's adoration, whose anger is but a 
fleeting shadow, whose applause is as the wind that 
passeth away, and cometh not again. 

Now must the Gentiles complete the bloody deed 
which these remorseless hypocrites had begun. The 
cruel Pilate, though he knew that Jesus was delivered 
for envy, falsely accused, basely and slanderously traduc- 
ed, no longer refuses to yield to Jewish bigotry land su- 
perstition. O Savior, thou didst fulfil thine own word, 
** I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them 
that plucked off the hair — I hid not my face from shame 
and spitting." Lord, how can we be sufficiently sensible of 
those sins which occasioned thy bitter sufferings ! Thou 
wert wounded for our transgressions — thou wert bruised 
for our iniquities — the chastisement of our peace was 
upon thee, and by tliy stripes we are healed. 

Now, into what a world of reproaches, indignities, 
miseries, art thou entering ! To an ingenuous disposi- 
tion unmerited ignominy is torment enough — but here, 
bodily anguish is added to mental suffering — and both con- 
S2)ire to gratify the despite and malice of thine enemies. 

The perpetrators of these savage cruelties are fierce 
and merciless soldiers — men inured to blood — in whose 
very faces were written the characters of murder. These 
are called together with eager haste — each man has his 
appointed office — each man, joining insult to barbarity, 
hastens to add more sorrow to a heart that is grieved. 

Was it not enough then, O Savior, that thv sacred 



480 hall's scripture history. 

body was stripped of its garments and disfigured witli 
bloody stripes, but that thy person must be thus indig- 
nantly treated by thine inhuman enemies — thy back dis- 
guised with purple robes — thy temples wounded with a 
thorny crown — thy face spat upon — thy cheeks buffeted 
— thy head smitten — thy hand sceptred with a reed — thy- 
self derided with bent knees and scoffing acclamations ? 
Whence are all these mockeries but to insult Majesty 1 
Whence are the ornaments and ceremonies of royal in- 
auguration but to cast scorn on the despised and perse- 
cuted Jesus 1 Was that head fit for thorns which every 
eye shall hereafter see crowned with glory and suprema- 
cy 1 Was that hand fit for a reed, whose sceptre con- 
trolleth all the world 1 Was that face fit for contumeli- 
ous spitting, from whose dreadful aspect impenitent sin- 
ners shall flee in guilty consternation when he shall arise 
to shake terribly the earth ] 

How dost thou abase thyself, O thou Son of the Fa- 
ther, how dost thou abase thyself for mankind ? We 
have sinned, and thou art punished — we have exalted 
ourselves, and thou art dejected — we have dishonored 
thee, and thou art scoraed — we have smitten thee, and 
thou art smitten for us — we have clothed ourselves with 
shame, and thou art covered with robes of ignominy. 

Thus disguised, thus bleeding, thus mangled, art thou 
brought forth to the furious multitude, presented to their 
derision and reproach. " Behold the Man ! Behold him, 
O ye Jews, the man whom ye envied for his greatness, 
and feared for his usurpation. Does he now command 
your reverence ? Will he wrest the sceptre from the 
hands of Caesar? Behold him discolored by cruel buf- 
fetings, wounded with thorns, torn with scourges, bathed 
in blood. Is he not now sufficiently miserable ] Would 
ye expose him to more aggravated sufferings and tor- 
ment 1" 

What an inward war is in the heart of Pilate ! His 



CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 481 

conscience bids him spare — his regard to popularity bids 
him kill. His wife, warned by a dream, cautions him to 
refrain from shedding the blood of that just man — the 
importunate multitude press him for a sentence of death. 
All expedients have been tried to liberate one whom 
justice pronounces innocent — all violent motives are urg- 
ed to condemn one whom malice pronounces guilty. 

In the height of this contention, when conscience and 
a regard to duty are ready to gain the victory in the 
heart of Pilate, the Jews cry out, " If thou let this man 
go, thou art not Caesar's friend." Now Jesus must die — 
this is the fatal, the decisive allegation. In vain shall we 
hope that a wicked man can prefer virtue to safety. Pi- 
late hastens to the judgment-hall — his lips no longer re- 
fuse to pronounce the bloody sentence — " Let him be 
crucified." 

To what miserable expedients has the sinner recourse 
when he vainly seeks to stifle the voice of conscience ! 
In the presence of the multitude Pilate took water and 
washed his hands, saying, ** I am innocent of the blood 
of this just person, see ye to it !" Can the hands then 
cleanse the heart ? Can a crime be so easily obliterated 
from the book of remembrance ] Can a protestation of 
innocence absolve the guilty ] Is murder of no deeper 
die 1 Poor and fruitless evasion ! Wretched policy of 
the offender who flattereth himself in his own eyes, and 
saith, ** Peace, peace," when there is no peace ! 

Little did the desperate Jews know the weight of tho 
blood which they imprecated on themselves, on their 
children. Had they, like the specious Pilate, sought for 
iviputnlty, their actions would yet have called on heaven 
for vengeance — but now when they bring it on them- 
selves by a willing execration, what marvel if they suffer 
accordingly ? They delighted in cursing, and it came 
ujion them — they loved not blessing, therefore it was far 
from them. And have ye not now felt, O wretched and 

gcript. Hist. 21 



482 hall's scnirTURE history. 

deluded nation, ichose Llood it wap, the guilt of which ye 
claimed as your own ] Have ye not been made a most 
memorable and lasting example of Divine indignation ? 
Did not many of you live to see your city buried in ashes 
and drenched with slaughter ? Was there ever a people 
under heaven which exhibited such a spectacle of desola- 
tion and misery] Your former cruelties, apostacics, idola- 
tries, occasioned you to be led captive for a season. God 
cannot but be just. This sin under which you now suffer 
must needs be something greater than those which went 
before, as your punishment is more signal. And what can 
that sin be, but the murder of the Lord of Life ? Ye have 
what ve wished : ye must be miserable till ye are penitent. 



97._THE CRUCIFIXION. 

The sentence of death is past — and now the spotless 
victim must be led to instant slaughter. All the streets 
are full of gazing spectators, waiting for this moninful 
Bight. At last, O Savior, thou comest out of the gate of 
Pilate's house, bearing the engine of death. To expect 
thy cross was not torment enough, thou must cany it, 
and must be an agent in thine own sufferings. Thine in- 
sulting enemies are more imperiously cruel, as they arc 
more sure of success. Their merciless tormentings have 
made thee half-dead already — yet now, as if they had 
done nothing, they begin afresh, and will force thy weak 
and fainting nature to new tasks of pain. O true form and 
condition of a senant ! Yet oven this act proceeds more 
from thy love towards mankind, than from the power 
and malice of thine enemies. Not without thy gracious 
concurrence did thy Father lay on thee the iniquity of us 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 483 

all. It was thine own mercy which caused thee to bear 
our sins upon the cross, and to bear the cross with the 
curse annexed to it for our sins. Teach us, blessed 
Lord, to imitate thy divine fortitude — teach us with 
meekness and resignation to submit to thy correcting 
hand — write thine own words on the tablet of our hearts, 
" If any man come after me, let him deny himself and 
take up his cross and follow me !" 

When thy loss of blood and excess of pain caused 
thee to faint under the weight of this burden — when thy 
feeble paces were too slow for their purpose — when 
their thirst for thy blood made them impatient of delay, 
Simon of Cyrene is deputed to bear thy cross : not out 
of compassion to thy misery — not out of regard to thy 
bitter sufferings. Thou hast struggled with thy load 
through the streets of Jerusalem ; now they prefer the 
expediting of thy death to inflicting on thee the pain 
of a lingering progress. While thou livest they do not 
esteem themselves either safe or happy. 

Hadst thou done this out of choice, O Simon of Cy- 
rene, which thou didst out of constraint, how would thy 
name have been made glorious as the first man who bore 
the cross of thy Savior — an office to which millions of 
blessed martyrs have aspired, and wherein they have 
been ambitious to succeed thee. Thus to bear the cross 
had been more honorable than to receive a sceptre — 
when weighed in the balance with this high privilege, 
earthly glories had been less than nothing — the mere 
vanity of vanities. 

While thus the Savior of mankind passes along, the 
streets resound not with one common exclamation. If 
the malicious Jews and ciTiel soldiers railed on him, 
his faithful sei-^'ants were no less vehement in their cries 
and lamentations — especially his blessed mother and her 
zealous associates were passionate in their expressions of 
sorrow. The divine Sufferer cannot be unmoved at their 



484 hall's SCRII'TIRK HKSTOKY. 

anguish — his ears are ever open to the voice of grief — 
his heart feels the tenderest pity. " Daughters of Jeru- 
salem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for 
your children." Who would not have thought, O Savior, 
that thou wouldst have been wholly engaged by thine 
own soiTows ] The expectation of so bitter a death 
would have overwhelmed any soul but thine — yet, even 
now, thy gracious eye can look beyond thine own mise- 
ries at those of others ; and can pity them, who, insensible, 
of the future, mourned for thy present calamities. While 
they pour out their grief on thee, thou directest them to 
other causes of sorrow. While thou art in sight of Cal- 
vary thou canst foresee and pity the devastation of Je- 
rusalem — prophesying the near approach of ruin to that 
city which had lately cost thee tears, and now shall cost 
thee blood. All the cruelty and ingratitude of man de- 
prives thee not of thy mercy. 

Jerusalem had other malefactors though Barabbas was 
dismissed. To give a greater appearance of justice to 
their bloody revenge, the Jews appointed two capital of- 
fenders, adjudged to death, to accompany the Savior of 
mankind in his last moments. O blessed Jesus, it would 
have been disparagement enough to thee to have been 
compared with the best of men — but to be thus associa- 
ted with notorious transgressors, whom vengeance would 
not suffer to live, is such an indignity as confounds our 
thoughts. Surely there was no angel in heaven who 
would not have rejoiced to attend thee ; and whom 
could the earth afford worthy to form thy train ? Yet be- 
hold, the malice of thine enemies has given thee com- 
panions neai'ly allied to hell — that their sin might in 
some measure reflect upon thee — that their acknowledg- 
ed guilt might cast a stain upon thy perfect innocence. 
So guarded, so attended, so accompanied, O Savior, art 
thou led to that disgraceful hill, which thy last blood shall 
render sacred. Now thou settest thy foot upon that rising 



THE CIIUCIFIXION. 485 

ground which shall anticipate thine Olivet — whence thy 
soul shall ascend into thy glory. 

There, while thou art preparing for thy last act, thou 
art presented with that bitter potion, wherewith dying 
malefactors were wont to have their senses stupificd be- 
fore the torments of their execution. 

That draught, O Savior, was not more welcome to the 
guilty than hateful unto thee. In the vigor of all thine 
inward and outward faculties thou wouldst encounter 
the most violent assaults of death, and scornedst to abate 
the least circumstance of thy quickest apprehension. 
Thou well knewest that the w^ork thou hadst to perform 
claimed all thy powers — thou didst not seek thine own 
ease, but our redemption. 

Now, even now, O Savior, art thou entering into those 
dreadful lists, and art about to begin the conflict with thy 
last enemy. Again do these merciless soldiers lay their 
rude hands upon thee — again must thy sacred body un- 
dergo the shame of an abhorred nakednccs. Lo, thou, 
that clothest man with apparel, animals with hides, and 
plumage, and scales, and shells, earth with flowers, hea- 
ven with stars, art despoiled of thy raiment, and exposed 
to the sconi of these blasphemers. As the first Adam en- 
tered into his Paradise, so dost thou, the second Adam, 
into thine — and as the first Adam was clothed with inno- 
cence, so art thou in this thine humiliation. O happy 
shame, whereby we are invested with glory — whereby 
our souls are arrayed in perfect holiness and unfading 
beauty ! Hadst thou not been dishonored, O Lord, we 
had been clothed in confusion — the curse had been pour- 
ed upon us, and we had trodden the wine-press of the 
wrath of God. 

Shame is succeeded by torture. Now do these barba- 
rous executioners fasten the Savior of mankind to his cross 
— now do those iron nails, passing through the palms of 
his sacred hands, fix him to the accursed tree ; which 



486 hall's scripture history. 

being suddenly raised up, is settled in the earth by a ve- 
hement concussion. Blessed Jesus, how are thy limbs, 
and joints, and sinews torn by this horrible distension ! 
how does thine own weight torment thee, while thy 
whole body rests upon this forced and painful hold, thy 
nailed feet bearing their pari in the torturing support ] 
How did the iron enter into thy soul, while, passing 
through these exquisitely-sensible parts of the body, it 
riveted thee to thy cross ! 

There, O blessed Savior, there art thou lifted up, in the 
sight of thine enemies, naked, bleeding, forlorn, desj^ised, 
the spectacle of miseiy, the scorn of men. Be abashed, O 
ye heavens and earth, and let the world be covered with 
confusion, to behold the shame, and anguish, and sorrow 
of its great and omnipotent Creator. O Lord, didst thou 
take our nature upon thee to be thus derided, thus man- 
gled, thus tortured 1 Was this treatment fit to be offered 
to thy sacred body, which was the pure and hallowed 
temple of the living God 1 The carnal eye acknowledges 
thee not, O Savior, in this thine hour of suffering — it can- 
not distinguish thee, though it approach to thy very cross 
— while the eye of faith sees thee afar off; and in all this 
ignominy, and pain, and wretchedness admires the glory 
of thy mercy. Alas, is this the head that is decked by 
thine eternal Father with a crown of pure gold, with im- 
mortal and incomprehensible majesty, which now is shad- 
ed with a thorny diadem 1 Are these the eyes that saw 
the heavens open, and the Holy Ghost descend on thy- 
self? — these the eyes that beheld the splendor of celestial 
brightness on mount Tabor, which now begin to be over- 
clouded with death 1 Are these the ears that heard the 
voice of thy Father owning thee from heaven, which now 
bleed with thorns and glow with reproaches 1 Are these 
the lips that spake as never man spake, full of gi'ace and 
truth, that raised the dead, healed diseases, cast out de- 
vils, preaclicd the glorious Gospel of salvation, which now 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 487 

are swollen and discolored by sacrilegious bufl'etings 1 
Are these the hands that stretched out the heavens like 
a curtain, that by their touch gave instant relief to the 
lame, the deaf, the blind, which now^re bleeding w^ith 
the nails ? Are these the feet that lately walked upon 
the liquid pavement of the sea, before whose footstool 
all the nations of the earth are commanded to worship, 
which are now so painfully fixed to the cross ? 

O cruel and unthankful mankind, who offered such in- 
dignities to the Lord of Life ! O gracious and loving Re- 
deemer, who wouldst sufler all this for unthankful man- 
kind ! That the avenging arm of lawful authority should 
punish offenders with loss of life is terrible, though just : 
but that wicked men should act thus towards the holy 
and blessed Son of God — it is beyond the capacity of our 
horror ! 



97.— THE CRVCIFIXIO^, ---continued. 

The malice which brought our blessed Lord to his 
cross leaves him not there to expire, without every ag- 
gTavation of torment, every varied indignity which hell 
itself can suggest. Two thieves are appointed to be his 
companions in his last moments — his enemies place him 
in the midst, as one laden with more than ordinary guilt. 
AVhercsoever he turns his eyes, they are met by objects 
of shame and disgust. But, O blessed Jesus, how shall 
we celebrate aright thine infinite mercy, who didst im- 
prove this refinement of Jewish revenge to the salvation 
of one, to the comfort of millions ! Was not this, as the 
last, so the greatest act of thy wonderful compassion, 
that thou didst convert that dying offender ] that at such 



488 hall's scripture history. 

a time, in such circumstances, thou didst deliver an im- 
mottal soul from the very jaws of destruction ? Lord, 
how do we bless thee for this work ! — how do we stand 
amazed at this degionstration of thy goodness and power ! 

The criminal came to die : nothing was in his thoughts 
but g-uilt and torment — while he was yet in his blood, 
thou saidst, " This soul shall live." Ere yet the intoxi- 
cating potion could affect his senses thy spirit infuses 
faith into his heart. He who saw death and torture be- 
fore his eyes, is raised from the things which are seen to 
the things which are not seen — " Lord, remember me 
when thou comest in thy kingdom." Is this the voice 
of a malefactor or of a disciple ? A'erily we find not so 
great faith, no not in all Israel. He saw thee hanging on 
the accursed tree, and he styled thee " Lord " — he saw 
thee dying, yet talked of thy kingdom — he felt himself 
dying, yet sj)ake of a future remembrance — he saw his 
companion still obdurate, and called upon him to fear 
God, to acknowledge his own guilt, and the innocence of 
Jesus — he looked beyond the cross to a crown ; beyond 
dissolution to life and glory. Lord, which of thine apos- 
tles thus bare witness to thee in the hour of thy sufferings ? 
After thy resurrection, when thou wert entering on thy 
glory, what wonder if they discoursed of thy kingdom ? 
But in the moment of thy shameful death, for a dying 
malefactor to speak of thy reigning, and to implore the 
remembrance of himself in a future state of blessedness 
— this is an act of such exalted faith as fills the whole 
Boul with admiration. 

O thou who wort thus brought into the true fold, how 
graciously wert thou called to take up thy cross and fol- 
low thy Master, as a partaker of his sufferings, a zealous 
witness to the truth, a patron of tnumphant faith, a hap- 
py object of infinite mercy ! " This day shalt thou be 
with me in Paradise." Thou implorest a remembrance — 
thy Savior speaks of immediate possession : thou suest 



THE CRUCIFIXION, 489 

for that remembrance as a favor to the absent — thy Sa- 
vior speaks of thy presence with him : thou speakest of 
a kingdom — thy Savior of Paradise. As no disciple 
could be more faithful, so no saint could be happier. 

Now, ye cruel priests and elders, ye are at leisure to 
feast your eyes with the sight ye so much longed for — 
ye have now the blood ye purchased. And is not your 
malice yet satisfied ? Is not this enough, without your 
taunts and insulting mockeries ? The people, the pass- 
ers by are taught to deride where they should adore. 
Many a tongue utters impious calumny against him in 
whom was no gTiile. A generous nature is more wound- 
ed by slanders than by the utmost severity of torture. 
What grief must have entered into thy heart, O blessed 
Lord, to hear these bitter reproaches from those whom 
thou earnest to save ? 

But alas, how small were these son'ows in compaiison 
with that inward torment which thy soul felt in the ap- 
prehension of thy Father's wrath for the sins of the 
world now laid upon thy head ! While he looked upon 
thee with eyes of favor, what hadst thou to fear fi'om 
earth or hell ? but when he turned his face from thee, 
though but for a moment, this, this was worse than death. 
No marvel if darkness was upon the whole earth when 
ihy Father's countenance was hid from thee by the inter- 
position of our sins. That word of thine, O Savior, was 
enough to bring the sun from heaven and to dissolve the 
face of nature, when thou criedst out, ** My God, my 
God, why hast thou forsaken me I" What pangs were 
these, which occasioned such a lamentation ! What 
could be more acceptable to thine enemies than to hear 
this language from thee ? Never could they have ima- 
gined the anguish of thy soul, if thine own lips had not 
expressed it — yet not regarding their exultation, thou 
pourest out thy sorrows — and where so much is uttered 
who can conceive what is felt ? 
21* 



490 hall's scripture history. 

How is it then, O Savior, that tliou makest this ago- 
nizing complaint 1 Hath thy God left thee ? Art thou 
severed from him 1 Far, far be this thought removed 
from the hearts of thy servants ! No more can thy 
blessed Father be separated from thee, than from his own 
essence. His union with thee is eternal — but he would 
for a season withdraw from thine human nature the in- 
fluence of his comfort. Thou didst bear our sins in thine 
own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sin, might 
live unto righteousness. Hadst thou not been thus appa- 
rently forsaken, we had indeed perished without recovery. 
Thou wert made to be sin for us, who knewest no sin, 
that we might be made the righteousness of God in thee. 
' But while we are full of the sense of thy sufferings, 
let us not forget the riches of thy mercy. Thine enemies 
rejoice in thy death, and triumph in thy misery ; thou 
implorest the compassion of heaven in their behalf — 
" Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." 
They blaspheme thee, thou prayest for them — they 
scorn, thou pitiest — they sin against thee, thou implorest 
forgiveness for them — they profess their malice, thou 
pleadest their ignorance — they claim the guilt of thy 
blood, thou art eager to deprecate it — they kill, thou 
8uest for their remission and life. O compassion without 
example, without measure, worthy of the Son of God, 
worthy of the Savior of men ! 

Blessed Lord, that prayer could not but be heai'd. 
They who from ignorance and simplicity (not from in- 
veterate malice) thus persecuted thee, find the happy 
consequences of thine intercession. Hence was it that 
three thousand souls were soon after converted at one 
sermon. It was not the speech of Peter, it was thy 
prayer which was thus effectual. Lord, what offence 
ebould we be unwilling to remit, when thou, while hang- 
ing on thy cross, couldst thus pray for the forgiveneee of 
thy murderers and blasphemers ] 



THE CRCCIPIXION. 491 

O blessed Savior, thou art drawing near the end of 
thy painful sufferings, when, exhausted with labor and 
tomient, thou criest out, *' I thirst." Alas, how couldst 
thou do otherwise ? The night had been passed in 
watching, in prayer, in agony, in thy conveyance from 
the garden to Jerusalem, from Annas to Caiaphas, from 
Caiaphas to Pilate, in tyrannous and unjust examinations, 
in buft'etings and stripes. The day had been spent in 
thine arraignment, in thy removal from place to place, 
in scourgings, in shame and contumely, in loss of blood, 
in fainting under thy cross, in woundings and distension, 
in pain and passion. No marvel if thou didst suffer thirst 
amidst these complicated woes. Yet there was more in 
this drought than the mere craving of nature. It was no 
less requisite that thou shouldst thirst, than that thou 
shouldst die. Both were foretold by the same prophetic 
voice — both rested on the same authority. Now is that 
word accomplished, " All my bones are out of joint — my 
heart is like wax, it is melted in the midst of my body. 
My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue 
cleavelh to my jaivs, and thou hast brought me into the 
dust of death." Had it not been to fulfil those Scriptures, 
of which one jot cannot pass away, though thou hadst 
felt this thirst thou wouldst not have declared it. Alas, 
what could it avail thee to confess thy misery to insulting 
enemies, whose delight was in that misery "? Would they 
who pitied not thy bloodshed pity thy thirst 1 Not so thou 
spakest — not as expecting any favor, but as confirming the 
word of thy sei^ants and establishing thy sacred truth. 

And dost thou complain of the want of a few refresh- 
ing drops, blessed Lord, who sendest the springs into the 
rivers which run among the hills ] who makest the wa- 
ters that are above the firmament and those which arc 
beneath it 1 O grant us to thirst after those never-failino" 
streams of heavenly gi-ace — let the water which thou 
shalt give us be unto us the w^ellspring of 'jternal life. 



492 hall's scripture history. 

O Lord, how marvellous are the dispensations of thy 
providence ! Thy murderers, while they seek to gratify 
their revenge, bear testimony to thy divine mission, and 
to the truth of thy word. In thy thirst "they gave thee 
vinegar to drink." This draught, O Savior, presented to 
thee by thine enemies, completed the sorrows thou wert 
to endure, and the prophecies thou wert to fulfil. 

Now all thy labors are ended — the full consummation 
of all predictions, of all types and ceremonies, of all 
suffering, of all atonement, is effected and immediate- 
ly proclaimed. Nothing now remains but a voluntary, 
Bweet and heavenly resignation of thy blessed soul into 
the hands of thine eternal Father, and an instant entrance 
into rest, triumph, glory. When Jesus had received the 
vinegar, he said, " It is finished ! Father, into thy hands 
I commend my spirit." And he bowed his head and gave 
up the ghost. 



99.— THE CRUCIFIXION*— co7i/i;iue^. 

The atonement is completed. The wrath of heaven, 
the curse of the law, the power of sin, of death and hell, 
are annihilated by the glorious victory of the Son of God. 
The prophecies are fulfilled, the legal ceremonies are 
abolished, our everlasting peace is effected, the sufferings 
of our Redeemer are at an end. 

Despised and rejected of men, without form or comeli- 
ness, the scorn of an ungrateful world, the object of mal- 
ice, envy, and persecution, our Savior, from the com- 
mencement to the close of his life, had been familiarly 



From Bishop Hall's Passion Sermon. 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 493 

acquainted with sorrow. All was love, and mercy, and con- 
descension on his part — all was base and cruel ingratitude 
on the part of mankind. Behold him, rejected of the 
Bethlehemites, laid in a manger, persecuted by Herod, 
driven into Egypt, obscurely educated in a cottage of 
Galilee, tempted by Satan, derided by his own kindred, 
traduced by the Jews, persecuted by the Pharisees, be- 
trayed by his own disciple, apprehended, arraigned, 
scourged, condemned, crucified. 

Blessed Lord, the more we contemplate these won- 
ders of thy mercy, the more are we lost in grateful 
amazement. Every circumstance adds to the ignominy 
of thy passion — to the glory of thy triumphant love. 

All shame is heightened by public notice. Jerusalem 
was the place where thou wouldst suffer — Jerusalem, 
which thou hadst honored with thy presence, instructed 
with thine heavenly doctrine, astonished with thy mira- 
cles, bewailed with thy tears. The time, that of the pass- 
over — when all the inhabitants of Judea were summon- 
ed to perform their devotions in the temple. At this sea- 
son, thou, the true Paschal Lamb, wert sacrificed for us. 
Thou didst not disdain to become an oblation for sin — to 
shed thine innocent blood for a guilty world. 

While thus, O Savior, thou didst show forth the won- 
ders of thy mercy, thy cup was embittered by the scorn 
and barbarity of thine adversaries. The inhuman Jews, 
the cruel soldiers triumphed over thy misery — thy blood 
would not satisfy them unless they filled thee with unjust 
reproach. Thine ears heard the blasphemy of the multi- 
tude — thy lips were defiled with gall — thy sacred body 
was mangled and tortured — and all this was but the ex- 
ternal part of thy sufferings. Thine inward anguish as 
far exceeded these torments, as the sensibilities of the 
soul are more keen, more exquisite, than those of the 
body, the wrath of God was more grievous than all the 
malice of men — and therefore never was there soitow 



494 hall's scripture ihstory. 

like unto tliy sorrow. Thy faithful servants have been 
victorious in the midst of bodily torments no less acute 
than those which were inflicted on their Lord — but that 
face which was hidden from thee, shone benignantly on 
them and supported them under the severity of their tri- 
als. The chastisement of our peace was upon thee — the 
curse, denounced against our sins. Therefore was it, 
that thou didst oft'er up prayers and supplications, with 
Rtrong crying and tears, unto Him that was able to save 
thee. Thou didst behold the wrath of thy Father, and 
therefore thou didst fear — thou didst feel the burden of 
our transgressions, and therefore wert thou gi'ieved — 
but. well aware that we must have perished but for thy 
suffering, thy love surmounted every obstacle, beheld 
every danger with intrepidity. 

In the utmost extremity of sorrow there is some relief 
from the compassion and sympathy of those we love. 
The Savior of mankind looked for some to take pity on 
him, but there was no man ; neither found he any to 
comfort him. He trod the wine-press alone ; none to 
accompany, none to assist him ! Might the angel, who 
supported him in his agony, have soothed his anguish on 
the cross, there had been some alleviation of misery. But 
how can angels help whom God shall afflict 1 How 
much less can men, were they disposed to extend their 
charitable aid ? But what did they 1 The soldiers mock- 
ed, buffeted, scourged him. The passers by reviled and 
laughed him to scorn. The Jews sought his destruction, 
and eagerly thirsted for his blood. His disciples to a 
man forsook him — one, the loudest in his protestations 
of zeal and fidelity, denied him with vehement execra- 
tions. Alas, who shall comfort the innocent Sufferer 1 
His Father ] Here, here was his hope. But even he de- 
livers h;ra into the hands of his enemies — " My God, my 
God, why hast thou forsaken me ]" How could the hea- 
vens and the earth remain undissolved, while the Maimer 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 495 

of them thus poured forth his sorrows 1 They remained, 
but in some degree partook of his passion. The earth 
trembled and shook — the rocks rent — the gi'aves open- 
ed — the sun itself withdrew its light, as not daring to be- 
hold this sad and fearful spectacle. 

But now " it is finished " — and the storm wherewith 
tlie world itself was shaken is passed over. The Phari- 
sees, soldiers, priests, executioners, nay, the powers of 
darkness themselves have labored to no purpose. Our 
Savior, upon his cross, is triumphant over them all. Our 
enemies are vanquished — the divine wrath is appeased — 
the charter of our salvation is renewed — the Mediator be- 
tween God and man hath reconciled all things to himself, 
whether they be things on earth or things in heaven. 

O Savior, shall we not strive for the mastery, that we 
may reign where thou reignest, having j^reviously shared 
thy sufferings ] Thou beholdest us from thine heaven — 
the reward is prepared ; the day of deliverance is ap- 
pointed ; the hour of redemption draweth nigh. We, 
who now go forth weeping, shall doubtless come again 
with joy to the mansions of everlasting rest. The ran- 
som is paid — there is neither accusation, nor judgment, 
nor eternal death for them that repent and obey the 
Gospel. It is God that justifieth — who is he that con- 
demneth ] 

Let us follow thee, O gracious Savior, whether in life 
or in death. In our last moments let us remember thine. 
Teach us to commit our departing spirits into the hands 
of a faithful Creator and most merciful Redeemer. Lord, 
the eye of faith beholds thee on thy cross — it beholds 
ihce meekly bowing thine head as thou givest up the 
ghost, and all the fears of mortality vanish away. If thou 
didst freely lay down thy life for us, shall we repine and 
murmur when we are called upon to forsake the world 
and go unto our Father ] Shall we consider death only 
as an obiect of hoiTor, when thy sufferings have taken 



496 hall's scripture history. 

away its sting and removed its malignity 1 Hadst thou 
not died, it had been still a tyrant: now it is a van- 
quished slave. 

Happy are they, who during their life so walk with 
God as to resign themselves to his guardianship, with 
humble confidence, in the day of their dissolution. Fear- 
ful and miserable is the state of that man who must part 
with his soul to go he knows not whither. SuiTender it 
he must. If Satan hath possessed it during life, can he 
hope that God will receive it at its departure ] *' The 
Boul that sinncth it shall die." 

Had we no soul, we could but lead a sensual life. O 
thou who pouredst out thy soul unto death, keep it ever 
in our remembrance that we are thine, and that we are 
on our progress to our Father's house. How safely, how 
confidently shall we pass through the gates of death un- 
der the guardianship and jDrotection of that all-merciful 
Being who created, redeemed, renewed us — who doth 
protect, presei-ve, establish us — and who will bestow on 
us the crown of immortality ! 

Lord, while our souls dwell on earth they are subject 
to sorrow, distempered by passion, assaulted by sin, 
vexed by temptation. Above, in the cloudless regions of 
joy, are none of these enemies to our peace. How should 
it be otherwise ? This is the place of our pilgrimage — 
that, our home : this, our wilderness — that, our Land of 
Promise : this, our house of bondage — that, our glorious 
kingdom, where the servants of Christ shall reign with 
tlieir Lord for ever and ever. 

Are we then unwilling to resign this frail spirit ? Do 
we linger with fond anxiety in this world of sorrows ? 
Where is our love, our hope, our joy in believing ] 
Where our remembrance of his precious death, whom 
we now behold on his cross ? O God, let us glorify thee 
on earth — let us finish tlie work which thou givest us to 
do. Then let us in humble tranquillity surrender into 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 497 

thine hands that immortal gift which we received from 
thee — so shall we behold tliy presence in righteousness, 
and when we awake after thy likeness, we shall be 
satisfied. 



100.— THE CRVCIFIXIO^. —couli?iued. 

And now, O blessed Jesus, how grievously have carnal 
eyes mistaken the circumstances and intention of this 
thy last and most glorious work ] Our weakness could 
of itself see nothing but pain and ignominy — but our 
understandings, enlightened by thee, contemplate, in this 
thine humiliation, both honor and happiness. Lo, thou 
that art the Mediator between God and man, the recon- 
ciler of heaven and earth, art lifted up between earth and 
heaven that thou mightest deliver us from going down to 
the pit, having ransomed us from destruction. Thou, the 
great Captain of our salvation, the Conqueror of all the 
adverse powers of darkness, art exalted on thy cross as 
on a triumphal chariot, that thou mightest trample upon 
death and lead the adversaries of our salvation manacled 
after thee. Those arms, extended by the violence of thy 
persecutors, are stretched out to all mankind, embracing 
them with thy mercy and inviting them to the benefits of 
thine all-sufficient redemption. Even while thou sufler- 
cst, thou reignest. Can thine enemies disgi'ace thee with 
their miserable scoff's, their poor wretched indignities ? 
Lo, the heavens declare thy righteousness, O Lord, and 
the universe shows forth thy power. The sun ceases to 
give light — the earth trembles as if it shuddered at the 
wrongs done to its Creator — the rocks are rent — the 
veil of the temple is torn in pieces — the whole frame of 



498 hall's scripture history. 

nature acknowledges the dominion of that Son of God 
whom man despised. 

! Sin and hell have done their worst. Thou, O Savior, 
art in thy paradise, victorious over the malice of men and 
devils. Thy sacred remains are yet not free from violence 
and insult. The soldiers part thy garments, and cast 
lots for thy vesture ; (glorifying thee, and fulfilling the 
Scripture by their proceedings.) The Jews sue for per- 
mission to show thee yet further indignities, but they sue 
in vain. Thy garments could not be whole — thy bones 
could not be broken — one inviolable decree oveiTule3 
both. Thine enemies look on that lifeless body as if it 
were altogether at their mercy — little do they know the 
guard which is set on that precious body. In spite of all 
the gates of hell that word standeth sure, ** A bone of 
him shall not be broken." 

Meanwhile, that no part of the divine prediction may 
remain unaccomplished, he whose bones might not be 
broken, shall be wounded in his flesh — he whose spirit 
was returned to God, must yield his last blood, even 
after his dissolution. *' One of the soldiers with a spear 
pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and 
water ; and he that saw it bare record." Malice is wont 
to end with the life of its object — here it survives it. 
What means this superfluous barbarity ? What commis- 
sion was there for such an atrocious act 1 Pilate had 
given orders to break the bones of the living ; not to 
pierce the side of the dead. How must indignation have 
been joined to sorrow in the hearts of those friends and 
followers of Christ who stood weeping by his cross, 
when they beheld this sacrilegious outrage! But, O God, 
when we look up to thee, and consider that thine infinite 
wisdom can turn apparent evil into certain good, while 
we abhor the cruelly of thine enemies, we bless and 
adore thy mercy — this very wound proclaims the sacred 
office of Christ and the truth of inspiration — Thei/ shall 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 409 

look on Him whom they have pierced. Behold the Rock 
which was smitten, and the streams of life flowing out ! 
Behold the fountain set open to the house of David for 
«in and for uncleanness ! This is he who came by water 
and blood, even Jesus Christ — not by water only, but by 
water and blood. O Savior, by that water we are wash- 
ed, by that blood we are redeemed. These, together 
with that spirit which thou didst surrender to thy Father, 
are the three witnesses on earth, 1 John, 5 : 7, 8, agree- 
ing in one, and expressive of the sacred union of persons 
in heaven, who are co-eternal together and co-equal in 
the Godhead. 

The Roman officer and his band who were placed as 
guards round the cross of Jesus, beheld the miraculous 
events which attended his crucifixion. They beheld 
them with unprejudiced eyes. They were free from all 
malice and bigotry, and therefore capable of a more in- 
genuous confession than the rancorous and cruel Jews — 
" Now when the centurion and they that were with him 
watching Jesus, saw the earthquake and those things that 
were done, they feared greatly, saying, *' Truly this was 
the Son of God." 

No marvel that these men confessed as much — how 
could any spectator do otherwise than confess it ? The 
evidence was sufficient to bring conviction to all man- 
kind, and cast them at the feet of their ciTicified Redeem- 
er. But some minds are obdurate against every gene- 
rous impression — the cold heart of unbelief is proof 
against demonstration itself While Pagans were melt- 
ed, Jews (for the most part) continued impenitent and 
unrelenting. 

Yet even of that nation some beholders, whom envy 
and partiality had not interested in this atrocious murder, 
were stricken with just astonishment, and smote their 
breasts, and with passionate gestures spake what their 
tongues durst not. How many must there needs be ia 



500 HALL S SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 

this universal concourse, of them wliom he had healed 
of diseases, or fed by miracle, or convinced of sin, or 
benefited in some signal manner either in their own per- 
sons, or vs^ith respect to others dearer to them than them- 
selves ! These (though deeply afiectcd with the shame- 
ful indignities offered to their acknowledged Messiah) 
are in some measure comforted, when they see those 
awful demonstrations of the Godhead of Him in whom 
they had believed. Distracted in their minds, while they 
compared those sufferings with that omnipotence, they 
trembled in the midst of their joy. As yet their faith 
was in its bud, their knowledge unconfirmed — *' If he 
were the Son of God, how could he die 1 If he were 
not the Son of God, how could these things be ]" Soon 
shall his resurrection from the dead, his ascension into 
heaven, remove these clouds of apprehension — now, 
their hearts could not but endure the conflict of thoughts 
hard to be reconciled. Meanwhile they glorify God, and 
standing amazed at what they behold, look forward with 
anxious expectation to the event which may follow. 

But chiefly thou, O blessed mother of our Lord, how 
many swords were fastened in thy soul, while, standing 
])y the cross of thy Son, thou didst behold him thus de- 
Bpitefully treated, thus nailed, thus bleeding, thus dying, 
thus pierced ! IIow did thy troubled heart then recall 
llie words reported to thee from heaven by an Archangel 
at the annunciation, that "He should be great, and should 
be called the Son of the Highest " — the prophecies con- 
cerning him — the adoration of the shepherds — the ap- 
pearance of the star — the journey of the eastern sages — 
the wonders of his early years — those supernatural works 
of his, the solemn, the incontestable proofs of his divin- 
ity ! How was evei-y tender thought awakened in thy 
bosom by his care of thee in his dying moments ! What 
deep horror possessed thy senses when thou heardest 
him exclaim, " My God, my God, why hast thou for- 



THE RESURRECTION'. 501 

saken me ]" But when, seeing ihe heavens bear a part 
with thee in thy distress, feeling the earth tremble no less 
than thyself, finding a dreadful concussion of the universe 
proclaim the deity of Him who would thus suffer and 
die, remembering his frequent predictions of drinking 
this bitter cup, and being thus baptized in blood — when, 
beholding these wonders, thou didst begin to collect thy 
scattered thoughts, thou couldst not but resume thy cou- 
rage, and take comfort in the assurance of future blessed- 
ness. More than once had he j)redicted his victorious 
rising — he had openly professed that Jonas was his type, 
and had promised in three days to restore the ruined 
temple of his body. " The just shall live by faith." O 
Mary, that faith of thine in his resunection, and in his 
triumph over death, gives thee new life — cheers thy 
drooping soul — bids it rise superior to thy fears and sor- 
rows — and represents to thee Jesus, whom thou now 
eeest dead and despised, as living, immortal, glorious. 



101.— THE RESURRECTION. 

True merit seeks not to obtrude itself on public 
notice ; and till it be called on to the exercise of active 
virtue, remains in peaceful obscurity. During the life of 
the blessed Jesus no mention is made of Joseph of 
Arimathea — yet was he eminently rich, and wise, and 
good — a worthy, though bashful disciple of our Savior. 
Faith may be reserved, but will not be cowardly. Now 
he stands forth and craves the body of Jesus. 

No doubt the centurion had related to Pilate the mi- 
raculous circumstances attending on the crucifixion of 
Jesus. His lieart tells him he had done too much 



502 

already, In sentencing innocence to death. The body by 
his pennission is taken down, wrapped in fine linen, 
curiously washed and embalmed. O Savior, thou who 
liadst not where to lay thy head when living, hast riot a 
grave where thy lifeless remains may be deposited. The 
faithful Joseph resigns his tomb to thee who livest for 
ever and ever — whose soul is in Paradise, whose God- 
liead is every where. There, purely wrapped and sweet- 
ly embalmed, thy sacred body is committed to its repose. 

And are ye not now at rest, ye Jewish rulers 1 Is not 
your hatred dead and buried with its object ? Has not 
Pilate ministered enough to your envy and revenge ? O 
rancor not to be terminated by death, malice and hostility 
that cannot die ! The chief priests and Pharisees came 
together unto Pilate, .saying, " Sir, we remember that 
this deceiver said while he was yet alive, After i/iree 
days I will rise again. Command therefore that the 
sepulchre be made sure till the third day, lest his disci- 
ples come by night and steal him away, and say to the 
people he is risen." 

How full of ten'or arid perplexity is guiltiness ! These 
men were not more troubled with envy at Christ when 
alive, than with fear of his resurrection now he is dead. 
But what expedient can secure them ? Pilate consented 
to his death — but who can keep him from rising ! How 
fain would these Jews think him a deceiver, whom they 
knew to be no less true than powerful ! Lazarus was in 
their thoughts — that man was no phantom — his death, his 
reviving were undeniable — Christ, who raised Lazarus, 
predicted his own resuiTection — what need we any other 
witnesses than the mouths of these inveterate enemies 1 
That which he would do, they confessed he foretold — 
that the truth of his word might answer tlie power of his 
deed, and that both might prove him to be the God of 
truth and power. 

But now tlie sepulchre must be secured. A massy 



THE RESURRECTION. 503 

Stone, a strong guard must be provided — that stono 
must be sealed — that guard appointed under the direc- 
tion of the Jews. O madness of vain men, who think by 
force or artifice to frustrate the counsels of the Almighty ! 
How justly does the Lord of all the world laugh them 
to scorn in heaven, and delude them in their own devi- 
ces ! Blessed Savior, how convincing is the evidence 
given to thy resurrection by the malicious devices of 
thine enemies ! How irrefragable a proof of thy rising 
is afforded by their fruitless and abortive stratagems ! 

The devout women who had wept at the cross of Je- 
sus, j^assed their sabbath in grief, and hope, and wonder. 
They thought on the prodigies which attended his death 
— they sorrowed at the remembrance of his suffering — 
they treasured in their hearts the frequent and clear pre- 
dictions of his resurrection. No sooner is it lawful for 
them to visit the sepulchre, than they repair thither 
(though the morning has scarcely dawned) to bestow 
their humble oblations. Had they been aware that Jesus 
was alive, how would they have hastened with redoubled 
ardor ! We know that our Redeemer liveth-r-?f?e know 
where he is. O Savior, how cold, how heartless is our love 
to thee, if we do not make speed to find thee in thy word 
and worship ! if our souls do not fly up to thee in all holy 
affections, and seek thee w^here thou mayest be found ! 

At the tomb of Jesus every thing combined to fill these 
pious w^omen with horror. The place was solitary and 
sepulchral — the time, night — the errand, the visitation of 
the dead body. All this is overcome by their zealous 
love. They had followed him in his sufferings when the 
disciples left him — they attended him to his cross weep- 
ing — they went with him to his grave and beheld how 
Joseph had laid him — even there they leave him not, but 
return once more to pay the last tribute of their love. 
They were not ignorant that both Joseph and Nicode- 
mus had brought odors for those sacred remains — but 



504 hall's sckiptlhl history. 

they rest not satisfied \vitli the zeal and piety of others ; 
they bring an offering of their own. O Lord, what ad- 
vantage is it to us that those around us are diligent in 
their duty to thee, if we are cold and heartless in thy ser- 
vice ? We may rejoice in their virtues — but if we add not 
our exertions to theirs, a day will come when Ave shall 
with horror see ourselves excluded fi-om those regions of 
bliss to which others shall be called l^y their Lord. 

The holy women, when they were present at the se- 
2)ulture of Jesus, had noted the inner grave-stone, which 
Joseph fitted to the mouth of the tomb. This they are 
anxious to remove. " Who shall roll away the stone V 
That other more weighty load wherewith the vault was 
closed — the seal — the guard set upon both, came not in- 
to their knowledge. This was the private plot of the 
Jews and Pilate, beyond the reach of their thoughts. 

How well do we succeed when we go faithfully in the 
discharge of our duty and leave the event to God ! Lo, 
his power hath removed that obstacle which his visitants 
actually feared, and that which they would have feared 
had they known of its existence. The stone is rolled 
away — the seal is broken — the massy rock is removed — 
the guards are dispersed. God sends an angel from 
above, the earth quakes beneath, the soldiers escape 
in terror and astonishment, the tomb is opened, Christ is 
risen, his enemies are confounded. Who are we, wretch- 
ed mortals, that we should attempt to control the designs 
of our Creator] There is neither wisdom, nor under- 
standing, nor counsel against the Lord. 

O marvellous pomj:) and magnificence of our Savior's 
resurrection ! The earth quakes, the angel appears, to 
demonstrate that universal power belonged to the divine 
person now rising. At the dissolution of iiis human na- 
ture was an earthquake — at its re-union is an earthquake. 
While he lay in the recesses of the tomb all wajs still — 
now, when he came, a Conqueror over death, *' the earth 



THE RESURRECTION. 505 

trembled at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of 
the God of Jacob." O Savior, thou didst lie down in 
weakness, thou didst arise in power and glory — thou 
didst lie down as a man, thou didst arise as a God. 

What a lively image hast thou given us of the dreadful 
majesty of the general resurrection and thy second ap- 
pearance 1 Then, not the earth only, but the powers of 
heaven shall be shaken — not some few graves shall be 
opened, and some saints appear, but all the bars of death 
shall be broken, and all that sleep in their graves shall 
awake, and stand up from the dead before thee — not 
some one angel shall descend, but thousand thousands 
of those glorious spirits shall attend thee, the great Angel 
of the covenant. If these soldiers were so filled with ter- 
ror at the earthquake and the appearance of an angel that 
scarcely any breath remained in them, how shall thine 
enemies, O Lord, abide that day when the earth shall reel 
to and fro, the elements shall be in flames around them, 
and the heavens shall be wrapped together as a scroll 1 

The terrified soldiers saw the countenance of the an- 
gel vivid and radiant as the lightning — both they and the 
women beheld his garments shining and white as snow 
— such a presence became his errand. In the passion of 
our Lord the sun was darkened, and all things were 
clothed in heaviness. At his resurrection the inhabitants 
of heaven celebrated his triumph with suitable tokens of 
festal joy. They could not but partake of our happiness 
to see the work of man's redemption thus completed. 
If there be joy among the angels of God at the conver- 
sion of one sinner, what must be their rapture when a 
world of sinners were ransomed from death and restored 
to their salvation ? It is their perpetual employment to 
praise thee, O blessed Jesus — behold a new song is put 
into their mouths : thou, the God of light, hast vanquish- 
ed the powers of darkness : thou, the Lord of Life, hast 
swallowed up death in thy glorious victory. 

Script. Hist. 22 



506 hall's 3CRIPTURE HISTORY. 

Certainly, if heaven can be capable of any increase of 
joy, never had those blessed spirits so great a subject 
of exultation as on this day of thy rising. How much 
more should we, v/hose nature thou didst assume, for 
whose sake and in whose stead thou didst suffer and die, 
whose souls are delivered by thy death, whose bodies 
shall be raised by thy resun-ection, how much more 
should we be overjoyed at the contemplation of this 
Avork of divine power and inconceivable mercy ! 

Behold now, though weak and insufficient of ourselves, 
yet in the confidence of our Savior's resurrection we 
dare boldly challenge and defy the adversaries of our 
salvation. In spite of all their power and all their ma- 
lignity, we are safe. 

Is it sin that threatens us 1 Lo, our Redeemer by his 
rising proclaims our deliverance. Our Surety was cast 
into the prison of his grave — had not the utmost farthing 
been paid he could not have come forth. He is como 
forth — the debt is discharged and cancelled. 

Is it the wrath of God 1 Wherefore is that but for 
. sin 1 If our sin be expiated, that peril is at an end. If 
our Savior hath suffered for us, shall we yet suffer the 
penalty in ourselves 1 Infinite justice will not be doubly 
paid. " It is Christ that died — Yea rather, thai is risen. 
Who is he that condemncth V 

Is it death itself? Our Savior overcame death by dy- 
ing, and triumphed over him, in returning from the grave. 
How can we fear a conquered enemy 1 What harm is 
there in the serpent but for his sting? The sting of 
death is sin — Ikal is taken away by the power of our Ke- 
deemer — it cannot now harm us, though we caiTy it in 
our bosom. 

O great and glorious Savior, we bless thee for thy 
death, but we bless thee more for thy resurrection. Thy 
death was a work of wonderful humility — of infinite 
mercy : thy resurrection was a work of infinite power — 



THE RESURRECTION. 507 

of transcendent majesty. In the one was human weak- 
ness — in the other, divine omnipotence. In the one, 
thou didst die for our sins — in the other, thou didst 
rise again for our justification. 



102.— THE R^SVURBCTIO^. ^continued. 

The repentant Peter and the disciple whom Jesus 
kjved hastened, as well as the pious women, to the tomb 
which Joseph of Arimathea had appropriated to our 
Lord. They hastened, but they found only the spoils of 
oLeath — the grave-clothes wrapped up — the napkin which 
had been about the head of Jesus folded together and 
laid in a place by itself They saw and they returned in 
amazement. 

In their speed to the sepulchre, society had been f jr- 
gotten — they flew on the wings of zeal to see what was 
become of their Master. Their desire is equal — but 
John, with the activity of youth, arrives before his fel- 
low-apostle. Standing aloof, he contemplates the se- 
pulchre — Peter first enters into its recesses. Such was 
their happy competition^ each endeavoring to be most 
ardent in the inquiry after Christ ! Yet still is their faith 
unsettled and feeble — they knew not the Scriptures — 
they went away more astonished than confident — more 
full of wonder, than of belief. 

The apostles are gone — but Mary Magdalene remains 
at the mouth of the cave, weeping. As she weeps she 
stoops and looks down into the sepulchre of her Lord. 

Holy desires cannot fail of answerable success. 
There she sees two glorious angels, the one sitting at 
the head, the other at the feet, wliere the body of Jesus 



508 hall's scripture history. 

had lain. Peter and John were newly come out of the 
sepulchre — they saw not these celestial visitants. That 
unexpected radiance presents itself to the eyes of the de- 
vout penitent, whose heart was so taken up with thoughts 
of her Savior, that even this sudden wonder cannot in- 
terrupt her tears, or constrain her to silence. To their 
question " Why loeepest ihouV^ her ready answer pro- 
claims, " They have taken away my Lord, and I know 
not where they have laid him." God and his angels take 
notice of every tear of true devotion. Of whom dost 
thou complain, O devout soul % Who hath removed thy 
Savior but the power of his own Godhead ] Turn back 
thine eyes and see Him standing by thee whose absence 
tliou lamentest ! She turned about and saw him — but 
she knew not that it was Jesus. 

For a while the Lord of life conceals himself from his 
faithful convert — he beholds her tears — he hears her im- 
portunity and inquiries. At last (as the patriarch could 
not contain himself before his brethren. Gen. 45 : 1, 2, 3,) 
the compassion of Jesus turns the soitow of this mourn- 
er into joy. He saith unto her, " Mary !" She was used 
to the name, to the address, to the accent. Before, her 
Lord had spoken to her as, a stranger — now, as a friend, 
as a Master. The good Shepherd calleth his sheep by 
name, and they know his voice. 

She turneth herself and saitli^ unto him. " Rabboni," 
which is to say, " Master." Her eyes had before been 
fixed on the angels — this word directs them to the sacred 
object of her solicitude. We do not rightly apprehend 
thee, O Lord, if any creature in heaven or earth call 
away our attention from thee. The angels were bright 
and glorious — thy appearance was even now that of a 
servant — yet when she heard thy voice, she turned from 
the splendid vision, saluted thee with the name of 
Master, and fell down before thee with admiration and 
delight. 



THE RESURRECTION. 509 

But wherefore, O Savior, dost thou check these effu- 
sions of joy ? Wherefore dost thou say to her, " Touch 
me not ; for I am not yet ascended to my Father ]" 
Was it that her thoughts were fixed too intently on thy 
bodily presence ] Was it that her eagerness seemed to 
imply a fear of disappointment, as if she beheld only a 
visionary form, which was not to make a lengthened 
abode upon earth before its ascension to glory 1 O 
Lord, even our well-meant zeal in seeking and adoring 
thee may not be faultless. If we have known thee after 
thy flesh, henceforth we know thee so no more. Could 
■we say, *' Here didst thou dwell, here didst thou take 
thy repose, here wert thou crucified, here buried, here 
didst thou arise, hence didst thou depart unto thy Fa- 
ther," we should dwell with delight on the memorials 
of thy presence — but if we so fix our contemplations on 
thee, as not to look to the spirilual part of thy benefits, 
the power and virtue of thy resurrection, our knowledge 
is vain and unfruitful— we have need to be instructed 
again in the first principles of the Gospel of Christ. 

No sooner art thou risen, than thou sj^eakest of as- 
cending — that is the consummation of thy glory, and of 
ours in thee. " Go to my brethren and say, / ascend unto 
my Father and your Father, to my God and your God^ 

To whom dost thou send her? "Go, tell my breth- 
ren." Alas, who were thy brethren % Had not these 
men forsaken, denied, abjured thee ] O admirable hu- 
mility ! O infinite mercy ! At first they were thy ser- 
vants — afterwards thy friends — now, disregarding their 
imperfect sendees, thou dost not disdain to call them 
brethren. When we consider our offences, they are 
heinous — but when we look at thy mercy, ** Who shall 
separate us from the love of Christ ]" Yet even now, 
sinners as we are, we are thy brethren — brethren in 
thee, who art ascending for us — in thee, who hast made 
thy Father our Father, thy God our God. 
22* 



510 hall's scripture uistory. 

The disciples, whose flight had scattered them at the 
seizure of their Master, were now re-assembled in secret. 
Still were they fearful — still were the Jews malicious. 
With what joy and wonder did they receive the tidings 
of their Master's resurrection and life ! Lo, while their 
thoughts and discourse are taken up with so happy a 
subject, his own miraculous presence bids their senses 
witness his reviving, and their own happiness. When 
the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled 
for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst 
and said, ** Peace be unto you!" O Savior, they who 
once trembled, supposing thee a spirit, when before thy 
crucifixion thou didst walk upon the waters, could not 
now behold thee returning from the grave without aston- 
ishment, and even terror. Thy mercy hastens to dispel 
these fears — after thy wonted greeting, thou showest 
them thy hands and feet, stamped with the impression 
of thy recent sufferings. Thy respiration argues the 
truth of thy life. Thou breathest on them as man — thou 
givest them thy Spirit as God — and as God and man 
thou scndest them on the great errand of thy Gospel. 

All the mists of doubt, fear and ignorance, are now 
dispelled — the sun breaks out at once, and darkness is 
removed for ever. They were glad when they saw thee, 
O Lord ! They remembered the marvellous works 
which thou hadst done — the proof of thy deity gave 
them confidence, and thy presence filled them with joy. 

We cannot but be losers by our absence from religious 
assemblies. Where wert thou, Thomas, when the rest 
of that sacred band were met together ] Had thy fear 
put thee to so distant a flight that thou wert not yet re- 
turned to thy fellows ] Wherefore wert thou not pres- 
ent, to partake of that divine inspiration which taught 
them to rejoice in God their Savior ] They said unto 
thee, " We have seen the Lord." Is there no certainty 
but in thine own senses 1 These tongues are commis- 



THE RESURRECTION. 511 

sioned to convert a world — and art thou the first to re- 
fuse thine assent to their word 1 Had not thy divine 
Master foretold to thee with the rest, that he must be 
crucified and the third day rise again ? Is any thing 
beyond the reach of divine omnipotence ] 

Blessed Lord, how justly mightest thou have left this 
man to his pertinacity'? It had been no mai-vel if he had 
been suffered to remain in this unbelief. But, O thou 
good Shepherd, who wouldst leave the ninety and nine to 
go after one that was gone astray in the wilderness, how 
careful wert thou to brinor this wanderer back ao^ain into 
thy fold ! Thy disciples were once more so met togeth- 
er, such was the season, such the place, when (that un- 
believing apostle being present) thou didst stand in the 
midst, didst single him out from his fellows, and offering 
him the demonstration he required, didst exhort him 
"not to be faithless, but believing." 

Behold, thy mercy as well as thy power hath melted 
the heart of thy servant. " Thomas answered and said 
unto him. My Lord and my God." The sense of their 
Master's omniscience spares the labor of all further dis- 
quisition. He believed, and therefore he spake — ** My 
Lord and my Grod !" 

Happy for us was that distrust which occasioned so 
perfect evidence of Christ's rising, whereon all our sal- 
vation depends, and produced that clear and explicit 
attestation of his divinity who thus arose. Thomas 
acknowledges not only the resurrection, but the God- 
head of Jesus, and his own happy interest in both. And 
now, if they are blessed who have not seen and yet 
have believed, blessed is he also, who having thus seen, 
has thus believed — and blessed art thou, O God, who out 
of evil canst produce good, and canst make even the in- 
finnities of thy children subservient to thy glory, the 
welfare of thy Church, the comfort and edification of 
mankind. Amen. 



512 hall's scripture history. 



103.— THE ASCENSION. 

Had the Savior of mankind considered nothing but his 
own glory, he would instantly on quitting his grave have 
repaired to liis celestial throne — but he, who for our 
sakes vouchsafed to descend from heaven to earth, would 
have due regard to the welfare of his servants as to tlie 
time of his return. His death had troubled the hearts of 
many ; and thoughts of diffidence had siezed the holi- 
est breasts — he therefore condescended to remain upon 
earth till his disciples had received such proofs of his 
resuiTection as incredulity itself could neither gainsay 
nor resist. 

Of all this period, O Savior, thou only canst give an 
account — it is not fjr our sinful and coriiiptible nature 
to trace the ways of immortality. Yet often wert thou 
pleased to manifest thyself unto men, not only appearing 
to thy disciples, but renewing to them the familiarity of 
thy wonted intercourse, walking, eating, confen-ing with 
them, teaching them the things which concerned the 
kingdom of God, and at last, before thy departure, as- 
sembling them for a solemn and affectionate benediction. 
** When he had spoken these things, while they beheld, 
he was taken up, and a cloud received him out of their 
sight." O happy parting, fit for the Savior of mankind, 
suitable to that divine conversation, to that succeeding 
glory! 

Lord, whither didst thou ascend from mount Olivet 
but to thy celestial throne ] Thou art gone up in tri- 
umph, and hast demonstrated ihine universal dominion. 
The earth confessed thee her Lord, when at thy voice 
she restored thy beloved Lazanis, when she trembled at 
thy passion, and surrendered the bodies of thy departed 
saints — the sea bare witness to thee when it hushed its 



THE ASCENSION. 513 

waves in obedience to thy word, when it yielded its 
abundant stores at thy command, when it became a 
pavement to thy feet and to the feet of thy disciple. 
Hell found and acknowledged thee in that thou didst 
vanquish the prince of darkness, even him that had the 
power of death. It now remained that as Lord of heav- 
en thou shouldst ascend to the habitation of thy holiness 
and of thy glory ; that as all power was given unto thee, 
so every tongue might confess thy supremacy in heaven, 
in earth, and under the earth. 

But how, O blessed Savior, didst thou ascend 1 While 
they beheld thou wert taken up — so taken up as that 
the act was thine own, the power of that act only thine. 
Thou who descendest wert the same who didst ascend, 
still and ever the Master of thine actions. Thou didst 
lay down thine own life — thou didst raise up thine own 
body — thou didst carry up thy glorified nature and didst 
place it in heaven. The angels attended thee, they did 
not aid thee — thou didst not stand in need of a fiery 
chariot to waft thee to thy glory. As thou didst exalt 
thyself, thou wilt hereafter exalt thy faithful people. 
Thou shalt change this vile body that it may be made 
like unto thy glorious body, according to the mighty 
working whereby thou art able to subdue all things to 
thyself 

As after thy resurrection thou madest choice of those 
eyes whom thou wouldst bless with the sight of thee, 
manifesting thyself to five hundred at once, but avoiding 
the presence of thine enemies and murderers : so in 
thine ascension thou didst select a sufficient number of 
witnesses to attest thy miraculous reception into thy 
kingdom. They only beheld thine exaltation who had 
shared thy state of deep humility. Thus dost thou still 
deal with thy servants, O Lord, and we rejoice in the 
condition. If we will converse with thee in thy lowly 
estate on earth, partaking of the afflictions of the Gospel, 



514 

we shall in thine own time be made happy by the sight 
and participation of thy glory. 

What a sight was this of joyful assurance, of spiritual 
consolation ! Behold the Savior of mankind rising insen- 
sibly from mount Olivet, taking leave of his admiring 
disciples with gracious looks, with uplifted hands, with 
heavenly benedictions ! O how unwilling did their eager 
eyes recede from so blessed an object ! How unwel- 
come was that cloud which interposed itself between 
them and their Master, leaving behind it a glorious 
splendor, as the bright track of his ascension ! With 
what gestures, what exclamations of attentive wonder 
did these transported beholders follow thee their tri- 
umphant Savior, as if they would have looked through 
that cloud which hid thee from them, to the emp^Teal 
heaven ! 

But oh what tongue of the highest Archangel can ex- 
press the welcome of thee, the Lord omnipotent, into 
those blessed regions of immortality ! God ascended with 
a shout, and the Lord with the sound of a trumpet. If, 
when he brought his only-begotten Son into the world, 
he said, ** Let all the angels worship him," much more 
now, that he ascends on high, and hath led captivity cap- 
tive, hath he given him a name which is above every 
name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow. 
If the heavenly host rejoiced at the moment of his birth, 
on his entrance into that state of humiliation and infirmi- 
ty, with what congratulations did they receive the Con- 
queror of hell and death, returning from the complete 
achievement of man's redemption ? " Lift up your heads, 
O ye gates, even lift them up, ye everlasting doors — and 
the King of Glory shall come in." Thousand thousajuls 
ministered unto him, ten thousand times ten thousand 
Btood before him, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain 
to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, 
and honor, and glory, and blessing. Blessing, and honor, 



THE ASCENSION. 515 

and glory, and power be unto Him that sittetli upon the 
throne, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever." 

And why do we not join the celestial choir 1 Why 
are we not filled with transports of holy joy, to behold 
our human nature thus associated with the divine, to see 
the Son of Man exalted above all the powers of heaven, 
adored by angel and archangel, crowned with inexpress- 
ible and eternal majesty ? 

Lo, for our sakes, thou, the forerunner and Captain of 
our salvation, art entered into thy glory, and preparest 
the way for thy servants. How studiously should we 
follow thee in faith and love, in humility and long-suffer- 
ing — how ardently should we aspire after the mansions 
of bliss ! O teach us to follow thee in the conflict, that 
we may partake of thy triumph, and may sit down with 
thee on thy glorious throne. 

Among the multitude of angels who v/itnessed thine 
ascension, some are commissioned to attend on thine 
astonished disciples, and to comfort them with the assur- 
ance of thy return. Arrayed in robes of light and joy, 
they came to testify that thy task was done, thy victory 
accomplished, and the crown placed upon thy head. 
And shall not our transports equal those of thine angels, 
when with the eye of faith we see thee thus ascended '? 
It is for us, O Savior, that thou art gone to prepare a 
place in those blissful abodes — it is for us that thou 
makest thine all-powerful intercession. While thou wert 
on earth thou didst pray to thy Father that they whom 
he had given thee might behold thy majesty — whither 
thou art gone, though we cannot follow thee now, yet 
we shall follow thee afterwards. In the assured hope of 
future blessedness we are filled with joy unspeakable 
and full of glory. This is our God — we have waited 
for him, and he will save us. This is the Lord — we 
have waited for him — we will be glad and rejoice in his 
salvation. 



516 hall's scripture history. 

" Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into 
heaven V O ye blessed spirits, what eye could but be 
intent on the path whereby the Son of God was ascended 
to his throne 1 How could they do otherwise than fix 
their admiring looks on that cloud which had received 
their Master out of their sight ] Never could they have 
gazed so eagerly as now. Their treasure was in heaven 
— their heart was there also. Not with any intention of 
conveying reproof, not with any design of checking the 
zeal and fidelity of the disciples, did ye address them in 
this language. Ye would have them still behold him, 
but with the eye of faith, and of hope, and of joy. *' This 
same Jesus, who is taken vp from ynu into heaven, shall so 
come, in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven. 
Look not after him, O ye wondering disciples, as so de- 
parted that ye shall see him no more. If he be gone, he 
is not lost. Those heavens which have received him 
shall restore him. Ye have seen him ascend on the 
chariot of a bright cloud — and in the clouds of heaven 
ye shall see him descend at the last day to judge the 
world. He is gone — rejoice that ye have an Advocate in 
heaven. If it be sorrow to part with him, it is comfort 
and felicity to meditate on the place whither he is gone. 
If his absence be grievous, his return shall be happy and 
glorious." 

** Even so. Lord Jesus, come quickly !" in the mean 
time, neither can heaven separate thee from thy children, 
nor can earth detain us from thee — raise up our souls to 
a life of faith with thee — let us ever enjoy thy conversa- 
tion while we expect thy return. 



TOE END. 





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BS635.A2H17 

Scripture history, or, Contemplations on 

Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Library 



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